"Honestly, Commander Camila, I sincerely recommend you surrender now," Dante said, flashing Coulson's old flame a bright, sincere smile. "Because fighting me is really going to hurt."
Camila ignored Dante's jab and gave a crisp, clear order.
"Teams One and Two, suppress the target! Team Three, on alert! Teams Four and Five, surround the temple—don't let anyone escape!"
In her eyes, sure, these Federal Bureau of Investigation agents were strong—strong enough for a handful to drop an entire squad—but no matter how you sliced it, they were still trying to stop a tank with a toothpick. Against an organized military force, they'd get flattened.
If it were that scumbag Grant Ward, even he would've given up on a frontal assault by now and tried sneaking out another way.
But reality check…
Even without Dante, just three top-tier Agents plus Steve Rogers was already an overkill combo.
And with Dante—this literal walking cheat code?
Forget it.
"Sigh, how stubborn." Dante shook his head like a disappointed teacher.
Right as he finished speaking, his eyes lit up—literally.
The sky, previously cloudless, suddenly roared with thunder.
Lightning Manipulation.
Thousands of lightning bolts crashed down from above.
The soldiers didn't even get to scream—just dropped on the spot, twitching uncontrollably.
But under Dante's meticulous control, despite the fireworks show, not a single life was lost.
It looked divine—felt divine—but in the end, it was just a warning.
These were still soldiers fighting for their republic. Risky? Yes. But honorable in its own way.
Still, those poor guys would be stuck in bed for a solid month.
Camila Reyes could only stand there in stunned silence, helplessly watching as everything around her crumbled.
The commotion outside drew Fitz and Jemma from the temple—ignoring the 084's high-frequency radiation warnings to come running out, still clutching the item.
Jemma pointed at Dante, stunned.
"…Another new ability? Can we still call Agent Dante human?"
"If nothing's changed, he should still think he's human… right?"
"I'd love to run a full body scan on him," Jemma muttered. "Maybe even a few biopsies. He's got insane regeneration anyway."
Everyone slowly turned to look at her.
"Wh-why are you all staring at me?! I was making a cold scientific joke! I wouldn't actually dissect a colleague!" Jemma groaned. "Besides, I'd probably need a Vibranium scalpel just to scratch him."
"So let's skip the dissection." Coulson chuckled. "If you're curious, just ask him. Dante's always open about that kind of stuff. In fact, I'm kinda curious too."
Coulson nodded and turned to contact the International Military Tribunal.
Since no one had died, Camila would probably walk away after some diplomatic back-and-forth between Peru and the Tribunal.
The country was still in internal turmoil—they'd shield their commander.
Still, he had other concerns.
"Tell me, Camila. Who exactly is this lunatic called 'The Clairvoyant'? Have you seen him in person?"
"Everything about him is a mystery… and yet, he knows everything about us. Like a prophet from legend…"
Prophet.
Coulson had never been one to believe in that nonsense.
But over and over, reality forced his hand.
A prophet is dangerous.
A malicious prophet? Even worse.
And Dante had whispered the name "The Clairvoyant" right in Camila's ear…
Coulson glanced over at Dante, who was now patting Fitz on the back while spinning some exaggerated war story.
Maybe he'd get the answer from him.
...
"Dante, I've got some things I need you to explain."
Back at FBI HQ, the Coulson Team's Airbus was docked nearby.
The rest of the team was off waiting for the Slingshot Protocol to kick in.
The Slingshot Protocol—officially—was the Bureau's method for destroying uncontrollable or unanalyzable 084 items by launching them into the sun via rocket.
Unofficially?
Just a smokescreen.
Agents Level Seven and up knew the truth: there was nothing in the rocket.
The real 084s went into a top-secret facility known only as The Fridge.
So while junior agents crowded around the viewing platform to watch the rocket show, Dante and Coulson were somewhere more productive.
Dante put down his green soda and smirked.
"Couldn't hold it in, huh? You want to know who that bastard 'Clairvoyant' is, right?"
"I don't believe in prophets. But this guy's clearly a danger to global security."
Dante slid a glass of Coulson's favorite whiskey toward him.
"First, consider this: if he really was a prophet, why didn't he tell Camila about that weapon earlier? That 084's been sitting in the Peruvian jungle for thousands of years. Why wait until the Bureau detected it?"
That made Coulson freeze.
Dante continued:
"If he wasn't just watching drama unfold for fun, then it means he only learned about the 084 around the same time as the Bureau."
"But even then," Coulson muttered, "what organization could rival our intelligence network?"
"No one," Dante said flatly. "Because the guy is FBI."
Coulson's head snapped up.
"A senior Agent," Dante added. "Once you hit Level Eight or above, you get access to intel you couldn't dream of seeing at lower levels."
"But unlike you honest types, who treat that access like a curiosity binge, this guy saw it as a goldmine."
"He exploited global information gaps to rake in massive profits."
"And this guy? He's an old friend of yours. FBI Level Eight Agent—John Garrett."
"WHAT!?"
Coulson slapped the table and shot to his feet.
Two betrayals in one day—who wouldn't crack?
"John Garrett? That can't be right!"
"Why not?" Dante tilted his head. "He's not just the Clairvoyant. He's HYDRA."
PFFT!
Coulson had just taken a sip of whiskey, only to immediately spit it out.
"Cough cough cough—!" Coulson wheezed, ignoring the insult as he wiped his face. "You're sure? John Garrett? He's not just The Clairvoyant—he's HYDRA too?"
"Positive." Dante nodded. "Remember the Centipede Project? He created it—to prolong his own life. And he even contacted Stark, pretending to represent the Bureau, trying to get Extremis research."
Coulson's face turned grim.
He'd never expected Garrett—trusted colleague, veteran Agent—to be both a snake and the mastermind behind the Clairvoyant.
After a long silence, he spoke again.
"If Garrett's HYDRA… then what about Grant Ward? He was trained by Garrett."
"Bingo. Ward's HYDRA too. That's why I kicked him off your team from the start."
"You kicked him off?"
"Technically, I nudged him. Then offered a deal."
"A deal?"
"I said, work for me and I'll give you a way to survive. Pretty good offer, right?"
"But he's HYDRA!" Coulson stood up again, the calm facade completely gone.
HYDRA—the very cancer that led to the FBI's internal purge. That had gotten him killed.
No way he was letting HYDRA go.
"I get it. But I made a promise. I'll keep it." Dante shrugged. "You didn't make any promises, though."
Coulson exhaled slowly, calming himself.
"…You're not the kind of guy to expose Garrett just for kicks. So what's your angle, Dante?"
"Can't fool you, huh?" Dante grinned. "Ever heard of Project Insight?"
"Fury mentioned it back when he was working on Project T.A.H.I.T.I… but that got shelved after the Bureau's last internal shakeup."
"Well, Stark visited the Bureau recently. Under Fury's persuasion, he upgraded all three Insight-class Helicarriers. They'll be completed soon."
"But Project Insight is too risky!" Coulson said, frowning. "If someone modifies the algorithm, it'll go from protection to mass execution!"
Dante waved him off.
"Relax. This version of Project Insight is real—but it's also bait."
"HYDRA bait," Coulson said slowly.
"You got it," Dante confirmed. "That last purge? That was just HYDRA sacrificing pawns to save kings."
"Now we are laying the trap."
"We'll use Project Insight to lure HYDRA's main force into the open—then crush them."
"And your team?" Dante added, leaning forward. "You guys are assigned to protect The Fridge."
"As the Bureau's top-secret storage facility, its value to HYDRA is only second to Project Insight."
(To be continued.)