Alex was now sitting inside a S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier meeting room, a stack of classified files open in front of him. The engines hummed softly beneath the floor.
Across the table stood Agent Phil Coulson.
Coulson fixed his tie, trying to look professional—but his eyes were focused and hopeful.
"So," Alex said, raising one eyebrow, "you want me on your team?"
Coulson nodded. "Yes. I know you're officially an Avenger… but you're also too powerful to ignore. And too independent." He cleared his throat. "So I thought you could help me with this team. A smaller one. More… flexible."
Alex leaned back in the chair.
"Hmm. Interesting."
Then he looked up at Coulson more carefully.
"Leaving that aside… how are you doing?"
Coulson blinked. "Me?"
"Yeah, you," Alex said, tapping a finger on the table. "How are you doing, Coulson? You know… after getting skewered by the alien scepter?"
Coulson smiled politely. "I'm fine now. I spent some good time in Tahiti. It's a magical place."
Alex glanced at Hill, who stood beside him.
Hill shook her head almost invisibly.
Alex looked back at Coulson. "Right. Tahiti. Magical."
Coulson didn't notice anything off. He simply straightened the folder in his hands.
Alex leaned back. "Alright. I'll join your team… but a little later. I have things to handle first. Is that okay?"
Coulson nodded. "As long as you're joining, that's fine."
"Good," Alex said with a faint grin. "See you later… Son of Coul."
Coulson sighed at the nickname but smiled anyway as he turned and walked out of the room.
Alex walked to the helicarrier window, watching Coulson leave.
"He doesn't know," Alex said quietly.
Hill stepped forward beside him. "He doesn't need to," she answered softly. "He's better off not remembering."
Alex didn't argue. He kept watching the empty hallway where Coulson had disappeared.
"He's not the same anymore," Alex said. "He feels it. He just doesn't understand why."
Hill's voice stayed calm. "Fury made the choice. And Coulson chose to keep moving forward. That's enough."
Alex sighed and folded his arms.
"Maybe," he said. "But when he finally learns the truth… I hope he can handle it."
Hill gave him a small look—half warning, half understanding. "If he ever does, don't be the one to tell him."
Alex smirked faintly. "Relax. I'm not that cruel."
Hill walked toward the door. "Good. Because we need Coulson stable. What's coming next… we'll need every agent who can think clearly."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "What is coming next?"
Hill paused at the doorway.
"The Tesseract is missing… so the question isn't what is coming, but who is coming," she said, and then she left.
"I guess she's become paranoid after living with Fury for so long," Alex muttered, shaking his head as he left the Helicarrier.
On the way out, agents greeted him—respectful, alert.
At this point, Alex wasn't just another enhanced operative; he was almost a senior authority within the building, someone the Avengers themselves treated seriously—and often, cautiously.
Leaving the Helicarrier, Alex returned home.
It was still a mess from last night's… activities.
His girls were still lounging around without a care in the world—naked, well, not like anyone could just walk in, but still.
Alex shook his head, smirked, and sat down on the couch.
He turned on the TV while ordering some food.
"I should hire someone for this job," Alex mumbled, seeing all his lazy girls sprawled everywhere. "Someone who can take care of them, keep the place clean…"
He stretched out, still watching the screen.
"I'll ask Mygarth later. He's a noble in Hell—maybe he has some servants he can spare," Alex muttered as he leaned back and focused on the TV.
And then the screen flickered to a familiar face.
J. Jonah Jameson.
Of course.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Jameson shouted, practically vibrating with anger, "WE HAVE A PROBLEM IN THIS CITY!"
Alex raised a brow. "Here we go…"
Jameson slammed his fist on his desk.
"This masked menace—this wall-crawling disaster calling himself Spider-Man—has been SWINGING around the city like he owns the place!"
A dramatic picture of Spider-Man appeared, looking heroic.
Jameson immediately replaced it with one where Peter was mid-dive, looking like he was about to fall on his face.
"Is he helping people? Maybe. Does he stop crime? Possibly. But is he an UNREGISTERED VIGILANTE risking PROPERTY DAMAGE and ENDANGERING CITIZENS?! YES!"
Jameson pointed directly at the camera.
"And mark my words—this Red-hooded Menace is causing trouble! He's already taken down the so-called new 'big boss' in town—this mysterious masked man."
Alex paused mid-sip.
"…What masked man?"
Jameson continued, animated as ever.
"This unknown figure, wearing red and black—you saw the leaked footage! The one who single-handedly crushed an entire underground gang! Well guess what? Spider-Man FOUGHT him too!"
Alex narrowed his eyes.
"Spider-Man… fought me," he muttered, remembering the incident.
Jameson kept going.
"That masked freak and Spider-Man were seen clashing near the ports! We don't know who he is—but one thing is clear: the menace attracts more MENACE!"
Jameson leaned forward dramatically.
"WHERE IS OUR BELOVED Avengers, The most powerful Avenger ALEX? WHY ISN'T he DOING SOMETHING ABOUT THIS?!"
Alex blinked.
"…What?"
Jameson slammed the desk again.
"I tell you this! If Alex doesn't get involved, this 'Masked Demon' fellow will bring chaos to our city! WE ARE DOOMED!"
The TV cut to a dramatic explosion graphic.
Alex sighed.
"Wow… so I'm a villain and a hero now," he mumbled. The masked guy Jameson talked about was from years ago—back when Maria had been sick and he needed a lot of blood crystals. He'd worn that mask while hunting the underground gangs, clearing them out one by one.
"But Spider-Man only showed up recently… and that was years after that," Alex muttered, frowning.
He leaned back, confused.
"So who the hell is pretending to be me now… and wreaking havoc in town under my old persona?"
"Fortunately, I told Coulson I'd join later," Alex muttered. "Let's see what this is really about."
He stood up, rolling his shoulders as darkness spread under his feet, swirling like living smoke.
From his back, shadow-wings unfolded—silent, weightless, and sharp.
"Darkness Authority: Evil Eyes Creation," Alex whispered.
In response, several floating dark eyes formed around him—each one glowing faintly with demonic power. They scattered across the city at high speed, slipping through shadows and walls.
Alex's own pupils shifted, connecting to their vision.
"Alright…" he said softly. "Show me where that masked idiot is hiding."
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