Inside the SWORD New York command center, Fury stared at the report in his hand, his expression grim.
If his face weren't already dark enough, it would have looked even worse.
He put the report down and took a deep breath.
His head throbbed.
Standing up, Fury walked to the window and looked out over Manhattan. Reconstruction was in full swing. Traffic flowed below, busy and orderly.
He let out a long sigh.
Scenes like this were something he probably wouldn't get to see often anymore. Before long, he would be boarding Tony's newly built aerospace carrier.
The construction of that carrier wasn't simple. Tony planned to integrate the latest alien technology, which meant the timeline would be longer than before.
Fury didn't really care about that.
What he cared about was stability. Peace.
What gave him some comfort was that even now, with certain "unknown" factors at play, many cosmic pathways had appeared throughout the universe.
Because of them, numerous alien races had arrived on Earth.
Yet those distant visitors hadn't caused much trouble.
Perhaps the mages had prepared for this in advance. That was a matter for the magical world, though, and had nothing to do with him.
What Fury was truly proud of-aside from maintaining a decent relationship with the mages-was that he had personally built a superhero organization for the ordinary world.
With that organization, many problems could be handled without outside help.
Even with mages protecting Earth from the shadows, ordinary people weren't exactly happy about being safeguarded by a group fundamentally different from themselves.
It felt like captivity.
That might have been an exaggeration, but for many powerful figures in the ordinary world, that was their honest feeling.
Fury didn't like such people.
Personally, he found them unpleasant.
But he wouldn't comment on it. Those were other people's thoughts, not his.
He had briefly felt something similar when he first formed the Avengers.
Those thoughts were long gone now.
No matter what, he had created a superhero organization for ordinary people with his own hands.
And now, that organization had a problem.
A serious one.
A few days ago, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent-now a scientist affiliated with the Avengers-had been robbed.
More than three vials of Pym particles were stolen.
If it had happened at Dr. Pym's home, it wouldn't have been so alarming.
But the theft took place inside the Avengers Compound.
A location with strict security and countless safeguards.
"Damn it."
Fury slammed his fist against the windowsill.
Frustration churned in his chest.
The perpetrators were highly skilled.
They knew exactly when Ant-Man would be at the compound that day.
They avoided every surveillance system.
Their timing was precise.
They even knew Dr. Pym's daily habits.
Everything pointed to one conclusion.
This was an inside job.
Someone from within S.H.I.E.L.D.
Possibly even an Avenger.
The military stationed there wouldn't know the internal surveillance layout.
Outsiders would have no chance of fully understanding Tony Stark's security systems.
Very few people could accurately track the Avengers' patrol routes or predict when items would enter the compound.
But the Avengers could.
Their clearances allowed it.
Their abilities made it easy.
Avoiding surveillance?
Child's play.
As long as someone knew coverage ranges and movement intervals, slipping through was trivial for them.
Understanding schedules. Knowing who was doing what.
That wasn't difficult either.
A few casual inquiries would be enough, if no one was being cautious.
As for who did it?
That would be nearly impossible to determine.
Anyone could be the culprit.
And investigating it now might not even matter.
Even if he found something, then what?
The damage was already done.
This incident alone was enough to tear the Avengers apart from the inside.
But not investigating was even worse.
That would be tacit approval.
And it would be unfair to everyone else.
That contradiction was exactly why Fury felt so heavy.
He had a strong feeling this involved more than one Avenger.
"Why did it have to come to this..."
He took a deep breath and slowly sat back down.
The computer screen in front of him glowed quietly.
Work piled up endlessly.
He had no motivation to touch any of it.
"Should I go to London?"
The thought surfaced again.
If it really came to that, he felt he might have no choice but to visit the one living in seclusion there.
In Fury's eyes, there were probably no secrets in the world to that person.
"Director."
Hill's figure appeared on the screen.
Fury straightened slightly and looked up.
She was standing outside his office.
He opened the door.
"What is it?" he asked, forcing his tone steady.
"Director, the meeting upstairs has concluded. They want this matter resolved as soon as possible," Hill said calmly, standing at attention.
SWORD's oversight had long since shifted.
No more World Security Council.
Now, it answered directly to the leaders of the five superpowers.
Their authority was unmatched.
The projects they handled affected the entire planet.
"I understand," Fury said, rubbing his temples. "Anything else?"
"They also want us to accelerate the processing of the information Agent Natasha transmitted regarding Hydra," Hill continued.
"That?" Fury nodded. "Tell them to move faster."
When Natasha, Steve, and Bucky executed their plan to dismantle Hydra, Natasha had released massive amounts of Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. data to the world.
Even though it was encrypted, a determined investigation could still uncover plenty.
The higher-ups didn't want that.
S.H.I.E.L.D. itself was already a sore point.
They didn't want more embarrassment.
Fury's task was clear.
Separate what belonged to Hydra.
And what counted as classified S.H.I.E.L.D. material.
"Director," Hill said suddenly, lowering her voice, "there's something else."
Fury looked at her.
After a moment, he nodded.
"Go on."
"Please look at your computer."
She pulled out her own device and sent a video file over.
"I found this while organizing Hydra's mission logs."
Fury clicked play without hesitation.
Then he saw the timestamp.
The figures on screen.
His face darkened instantly.
Howard Stark.
His wife.
James-Bucky.
The video was barely over a minute long.
Less than two minutes.
Yet it made Fury feel like he had crawled out of hell.
This was the night they died.
This was the mission Bucky carried out while under control.
Cold flooded his body.
He stared at the screen, motionless.
It felt as though something unseen was brushing against his back.
A quiet, suffocating dread.
"This video..." Fury finally asked, his voice hoarse. "How many people have seen it?"
"So far, only me," Hill replied softly.
"Director... what do we do?"
What to do?
Fury felt cursed.
First the stolen Pym particles.
Then the possibility of Avengers betraying one another.
And now this.
He could already imagine the sparks this would ignite.
"Do not let this video leak," Fury said through clenched teeth. "No one else is to know about it."
His voice dropped even lower.
"No one. Understood?"
"Understood," Hill replied, then turned and left.
Fury leaned back heavily.
This situation had grown far beyond what he anticipated.
If things continued, an internal catastrophe was inevitable.
And once again, he seriously considered going to London.
While Fury wrestled with these thoughts, Steve and Bucky arrived at Tony's office.
Tony sat in front of his computer, simulations of intricate designs flashing endlessly across the screen.
"This is what you asked for."
Steve stepped forward and placed three red vials on the table.
"Pym particles. The mission is complete."
"Congratulations," Tony said flatly.
He didn't look at either of them.
His eyes never left the screen.
"Put them down and leave. Don't interrupt my work. Got it?"
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