Three days later.
Los Angeles. A retro café near Union Station.
The sunlight was bright, but the atmosphere inside the café felt strangely tense.
Skye sat alone in the corner, wearing an ordinary hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low. Her fingers flew across her laptop keyboard, code cascading down the screen at lightning speed.
Outside, in a black SUV parked across the street, Phil Coulson lowered his binoculars, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips.
"Sir, target confirmed," Ward's voice came through the earpiece.
Coulson nodded. "May, prepare to move. Don't hurt her."
"Copy," came the flat reply.
The SUV door opened.
-----
Inside the café, Skye stared at the deliberately planted bug on her screen and silently counted.
Three… two… one.
"I couldn't help noticing," a voice said above her, smooth and polite, "mind if I buy you a coffee?"
Skye looked up.
Ward.
She froze for half a second—then snapped her laptop shut and bolted.
Too late.
At the back door, a woman in a leather jacket blocked her path, arms crossed, eyes cold as steel.
The front door opened again.
A middle-aged man with a slightly receding hairline and a professionally friendly smile walked in.
Phil Coulson.
"Skye, right?" He flashed a black badge. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Or… you can call us S.H.I.E.L.D."
"We'd like to have a chat."
Skye backed against the wall, fear and suspicion filling her eyes. Her right hand instinctively brushed the cold metal of the mechanical watch on her wrist.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.?" She sneered. "The organization that wants to turn the whole world into a prison? What is this—are you here to arrest me, or erase me?"
"Maybe," a cold female voice replied from behind her.
Skye stiffened.
Melinda May—the woman known as The Cavalry—had appeared without a sound.
Slowly, Skye raised both hands in surrender.
"Well damn," she said sarcastically. "S.H.I.E.L.D. really mobilized half the cavalry just to catch one harmless girl. I should feel honored."
"You're not harmless," Coulson said, stepping closer, the friendly smile gone.
"You broke into our systems. You exposed our agents. You embarrassed us on a global scale."
"By protocol, I should throw you in the Fridge."
Skye's heart skipped a beat. She resisted the urge to reach for the watch.
"But," Coulson continued, his tone shifting, "I think you're talented."
"We're forming a small team to deal with… unusual cases. And we need someone who understands technology. Someone who doesn't think the way we do."
He extended his hand.
"How about it? Want to see… the real world?"
Skye stared at his hand.
Everything—every step—was unfolding exactly as Antony had predicted.
She hesitated, struggled, then sighed in reluctant defeat.
"If I say no," she asked, "will you let me walk out of here?"
Ward snorted. "You already know the answer."
"Figures."
Skye rolled her eyes and shook Coulson's hand.
"But I have one condition."
"Name it."
"I'm bringing my van," she said, pointing toward the alley.
Coulson chuckled.
"Deal. Our plane… is pretty big."
…
Thirty thousand feet above ground.
A heavily modified Boeing C-17—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s so-called air bus—cruised through the stratosphere.
Skye sat alone in a locked lounge, silent and thoughtful.
Step one: infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.
Now came the harder part—playing the role of the "recruited hacker" convincingly in front of seasoned agents.
The door opened.
Ward walked in, carrying two bottles of water.
"Thirsty?" He set them on the table, clearly trying to assert dominance with his hard-man routine.
"I don't drink anything handed to me by strangers," Skye said coolly.
Ward shrugged, twisted one open, and took a long drink.
"Listen, Skye. I don't care who you worked for, or what your agenda is."
He leaned forward, brows furrowed, pressure radiating off him.
"You're on my plane now. If you try anything funny—"
"What?" Skye shot back. "You'll kill me with your eyebrows?"
Ward choked on the comeback.
"I'm warning you," he said coldly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't keep dead weight. If you're useless, even Coulson won't save you."
"Useless?"
Skye smiled.
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a USB drive, and tossed it onto the table.
"Inside is intel on three hidden Centipede Project facilities operating in Los Angeles."
"Consider it my welcome gift."
Ward froze.
The Centipede Project was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s biggest headache—an unstable super-serum turning people into walking bombs.
"How did you get this?" Ward asked sharply.
"I have my ways," Skye replied with a mysterious grin. "I've got… friends."
Antony, she thought.
Vought's intelligence network had already sunk its teeth into the criminal underworld. Those so-called Centipede soldiers were nothing more than HYDRA's failed Extremis knockoffs.
This intel was Antony's way of giving her solid footing inside S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Interesting," Ward said at last, pocketing the drive.
He stood and headed for the door.
"Looks like you're more useful than I thought."
He paused.
"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D., Skye."
The door closed.
Skye exhaled deeply and looked down at the watch on her wrist, brushing it with her thumb.
"I did it, Homelander."
-----
Outside, Manhattan glittered beneath the night sky—but Antony had no interest in the view.
His eyes were locked onto the system interface floating before him.
Current Special Popularity: 69,500
Antony stared at the number, fingers tapping against the armrest.
"Almost seventy thousand…" he muttered.
Back in his previous Kryptonian days, this would've been the perfect moment to hoard thirty thousand more and go for a ten-pull—SSR or bust.
But there was a problem.
He was a born gambler.
"Damn it, I can't hold back!" Antony snapped.
"Single pulls create miracles. Ten-pulls destroy lives!"
He fixed his gaze on the glowing option: Superhero Blind Box.
The interface shimmered seductively, as if whispering: Come on. Live a little.
"System," Antony said mentally, "can we talk? Your gacha UI is way too plain. No animations. No hype. I feel nothing."
No response.
"At least give me sound effects next time," he continued seriously.
"When I pull something good, shout something like—'Whoa! Golden! Legendary!' You know? Ritual matters."
Silence.
"Tch. Fine. You're classy. You're above this."
Antony rolled his eyes.
"Alright then… screw it."
He slammed the command.
"ALL IN. Give me two pulls."
--------------
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