Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters, concepts, places, etc.

Author's Note:

Hi!

This is my first story on here! I've been working on it for nearly two years. It will be divided into three parts, which will be labeled along with the chapter.

This prologue may not seem to match the summary, but it's important in laying the foundation for the rest of the story. If it has a good reception, I'll post the first chapter soon!

In this fanfiction, the events of The Avengers took place in May 2012, the events of TASM took place in September 2013, and the main events of the fanfiction take place from November 2013 on.

Rated T for: some language, sex and drug references, moderate violence, and eventual underage substance use.

Please, please, please review!

It would mean a lot to me, and feedback helps me improve my writing.

Thanks, and I hope you enjoy this!

~Argeiphontes

Acatalepsy (Noun): the real or apparent impossibility of arriving at certain knowledge or full comprehension

Prologue

New York, New York, Approximately 10 Hours After the Lizard Attack

Helicarrier Observatory

Golden light diffuses throughout Manhattan as the sun rises. The city is half-gazed upon with scrutiny, as if its secrets can be seen from seven miles above. In all actuality, some secrets can be seen. Rubble is heaped in a pile on 57th Street. Slightly older damage is scattered throughout the cityscape.

The city's observer sighs. New York can't seem to get a break.

"Director," says a woman's voice. Nick Fury turns.

"Look at this shit," he grumbles.

The woman shifts her weight and continues, not responding to his comment. "The area around the OsCorp tower is off limits to the public, for safety and classification reasons, effective immediately."

He glares at her, the action unhindered by his lack of an eye. "Classification?"

"Well, it is protocol, sir."

He shakes his head. "You have no idea. No fucking idea."

She scowls. "Excuse me?"

Turning back towards the window overlooking the city, Fury says, "Things are changing, Agent Hill. We can't hide this shit from them anymore." He gestures at the streets below, " Everything we denied for decades- superheroes, aliens, the supernatural- It's all about to come out, and it's going to be one giant clusterfuck. The more we try to deny, the more we try to cover up- it's all going to make this mess worse."

Agent Hill's skin seems to be tightly pulled over her face, giving her a strained look. "Then exactly what," she speaks deliberately, "are you insinuating we do, sir?"

"I am insinuating that we tell the truth."

A bitter, brief chuckle escapes her breath. "They're not ready, Director. They'll never be ready. To tell them the truth would be to rock the very foundation of their world"

"They already know." His voice rises. "No, we didn't confirm that aliens attacked New York. And I understand, we're not going to confirm OsCorp's little Godzilla disaster. 'Protocol' and all that crap." He snorted. "The hell to protocol. They know. It's all over the news. Not the tabloids, the New York Times. The Wall Street Journal. The Washington Post. Even without our stamp of approval. They don't need that from us anymore. "

She purses her lips. "Well, then what do they need?"

"Protectors," he answers immediately.

"Then tell me, where were the Avengers last night?" Her words are scathing to his ears.

"Assembly is a hell of a lot harder than the instruction manual might lead one to believe," his words are just as sharp as her's.

Agent Hill crosses her arms. "The project's failed, Director. Those individuals are simply too... volatile."

Now, he's the one who appears to be strained. "'Volatile' saves lives. Your damn 'protocol' is useless, in that department."

Agent Hill holds a steady gaze with her superior. "While I'm sure others agree with your view, it doesn't change anything at the moment, sir. We've proceeded with the protocol for the OsCorp case. The area is off-limits to the public, as I mentioned before, and a cover has been produced."

"Which is...?"

"Terrorist attack."

Fury rolls his one eye.

"I will bring you updates, Director." Hill turns and begins to walk for the door.

"Don't bother," he grumbles.

She spins back around. "I'm sorry?"

"I'll get updates from the control center," he mutters only slightly louder, fingering his earpiece.

Hill crosses her arms. "Director Fury, I have always respected your judgement. But lately, it seems you've abandoned all reason. I get it, what happened in New York isn't what we've historically dealt with."

Fury opens his mouth to cut in, but she continues. "However, that is not cause to abandon all of our standards!"

She ignores the slow shaking of his head. "We can't tell the world the truth because the truth is dangerous. We have to stick with protocol, because the Avengers will fail you. It's not fair to put so many lives in the hands of such an incompetent few," she maintains. "We have to protect people, sir, not endanger them. I stand by that, and if you're not willing to hear it, I will keep my distance."

"Maria-" Fury starts.

She throws a file of papers into his hands, and begins to walk away. "Well, since you have such an affinity for extraordinary individuals, you might as well look into this. The kid's going to get himself killed, if someone doesn't intervene."

With that, she leaves.

Fury opens the file. The first document is the day's issue of a newspaper, and the headline reads: BIOLOGICAL ATTACK ON MIDTOWN MANHATTAN; SPIDER-MAN SAVES THOUSANDS.

S.H.I.E.L.D has pinned a copy of a passport to the paper. The photograph shows a brown-haired, brown-eyed, bored-looking teenager.

His given name is Peter Benjamin Parker.

Fury places the file inside his coat and turns back to the Helicarrier window, scouring the city as he was before.

"Protocol," he chuckled, quietly, bitterly. "Fuck protocol. It's a brave new world."