At S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters,
Fury was looking at Luke's fake ID, which seemed to have been created only two weeks ago. Fury found one thing strange—before that, there was no trace of Luke in any database, not even the most obscure records.
No school files, no medical history, no tax trails, no digital footprint. It was like he was a ghost before those two weeks, and then suddenly appeared out of thin air.
Fury really didn't like dealing with this kind of people—those with power but no history, no background, no strings to pull. People he couldn't control. He had handled enhanced individuals before, but at least most of them left some sort of paper trail. This one? Nothing.
"Not a single thing," he muttered, tapping the file against the table. "This guy just walked into the world out of nowhere."
And it wasn't just the mystery. Fury could already say with certainty that Luke was a dangerous individual, someone operating beyond normal human limits.
A walking heaven's weaponry, capable of tearing through enemies and vanishing without leaving a trace. That made him unpredictable—and unpredictability was the one thing Fury hated the most.
He leaned back in his chair, the ID still between his fingers, as the screens around him replayed clips from Harlem. Buildings scorched, ground cracked, enemies crushed. Fury's one good eye narrowed.
But he could conclude one thing—Luke wasn't some unstable, criminal-minded lunatic. From all the surveillance they'd gathered, Luke seemed to live a surprisingly normal life.
No suspicious dealings, no sudden acts of violence outside Harlem, nothing that painted him as a threat to the public. If anything, he looked like a man trying to blend in.
So Fury's thoughts began drifting in another direction. If this guy wasn't a loose cannon, maybe he could be something more useful.
Maybe even an asset. The Avengers program was still in its infancy, still more of an idea than a reality, but every day Fury was reminded that the world was filling with extraordinary individuals. And this one—whoever Luke really was—might be one of the strongest yet.
But before Fury could even consider extending an offer, he needed more information. He needed to know what kind of powers Luke truly had, how far they stretched, and, more importantly, what sort of man he was. Ally or enemy—that decision couldn't be made on instinct alone.
As he mulled over the possibilities, the door to his office opened with its familiar soft hiss. Without needing to look, Fury already knew who it was.
Natasha Romanoff stepped in.
"Romanoff, your current mission is investigate target Luke and find everything," said Fury, his tone flat but leaving no room for negotiation.
Originally, Fury had planned to send Natasha undercover at Tony Stark's side to monitor his palladium poisoning and unstable behavior, but now another dangerous individual has surfaced—one who might be an even bigger variable than Stark.
The choice of who to send was obvious. After all, why Natasha? Did anyone even need to ask? She was the best S.H.I.E.L.D. had. She could adapt to any situation, vanish into any cover identity, and more often than not, charm her way into a target's trust without raising suspicion.
And, Fury thought with a trace of cynicism, most men preferred a beautiful woman watching them rather than some sweaty, grim-faced operative breathing down their necks. If subtlety was the mission, Natasha was the tool.
Natasha, who heard his reasoning without him even needing to spell it out, exhaled quietly through her nose. She knew exactly why he was sending her. It wasn't just surveillance—it was practically a honey trap.
She'd been here before, dozens of times. Get close, get information, manipulate if necessary. It was a dance she knew all too well.
"And try to find any way for us to cooperate with him," Fury continued, leaning back slightly in his chair. "We can't make enemies of him. If we don't get Luke as an ally, the last thing we want is him standing against us."
After sometime,
In Luke's house hall, the atmosphere was quiet but tense.
Selene sat calmly on the sofa, legs crossed, her expression unreadable, while Natasha Romanoff lounged across from her on the couch, a faint, polite smile on her lips.
"May I ask how much longer Mr. Luke is going to stay in the bathroom?" Natasha asked, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Selene. Her tone was casual, but her eyes were sharp, scanning every detail—posture, micro-expressions, body language.
As a trained assassin, Natasha's instincts immediately went on high alert. This woman sitting across from her was dangerous.
Definitely not normal. She didn't carry herself like a civilian at all—there was precision in her movements, an edge that only came from long years of combat.
Natasha knew she had to stay careful. She had come here for a purpose: to talk to Luke and gather information about him.
Since Luke already knew her identity, Natasha didn't bother with disguises or subtlety. A direct approach would be more effective—but that also meant she needed to stay sharp.
Yet, thirty minutes had passed, and the woman kept repeating that Luke was "bathing."
Natasha internally frowned. Can a man really spend thirty minutes in the bathroom? Even women don't take this long. Unless… something was being hidden.
"So, may I ask… what is your relationship with Mr. Luke?" Natasha asked at last. Her tone was calm but probing. Any information about him would be useful.
"Wife," Selene replied simply, her voice steady and controlled.
"How did you meet him, and where?" Natasha continued, her eyes carefully studying Selene for any slip of detail.
"Which department are you with?" Selene asked in return. Her gaze was level, almost daring Natasha to keep pushing.
Selene thought to herself as she looked at Natasha. Since this woman already knew Luke's name, she must have met him before. She was beautiful, confident, and seemed like the kind of woman Luke would normally be drawn to.
And Luke is a known playboy—well, she got to know this guy. But when did he get involved with her? How did she come straight to our house without him saying a word?
He didn't even mention meeting another woman behind my back… Selene's lips were pressed into a thin line. She made a mental note to ask him some questions later.
"I'm with the FBI," Natasha said, producing a badge and holding it up clearly for Selene to see. "I came here to investigate Mr. Luke's involvement in an accident."
For an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D., producing credentials like this was as effortless as breathing.