The hour was late, but Nick Fury's office had never known the meaning of rest. Stacks of reports lined his desk like fortifications, each one heavier than the last.
His responsibility was endless, as were his headaches.
Stark had run off to Albion of all places, which was already bad enough, but he had decided to spend more than a month there, which had nearly driven Fury mad with all the requests and not-so-veiled orders to deal with him.
He understood their desire for Stark's tech; he still wanted it himself, but he wasn't about to kill him to get his hands on it. SHIELD owed his father far too much, plus it was sheer stupidity to kill the goose that lays golden eggs.
He still struggled to understand why Obadiah Stane, a man who had built everything he owned around the brilliance of the Stark father and son pair, thought he would benefit from killing Tony.
No, staying on Stark's good side was important, far more than the petty ambition of those paper-pushers in the senate.
After all, mere months after finishing his first suit, built in a cave from little more than reused scraps, he had upgraded the suit countless times. Given time, what he had now, what they could get now would be countless times better, infinitely superior.
But at least Stark was finally back, even if Fury wished he hadn't made that stupid new Iron Knight suit. That really put some pressure on him.
Still, he was home and unlikely to cause more problems for a bit, allowing Fury to shift his focus onto more important issues.
Those mainly being Albion, Mutants, Doom, and Wakanda.
Those four issues were something that couldn't and shouldn't be ignored, yet they were hardly the only ones.
Like mother-fucking demons.
Or the magic secret military arm of the Vatican, or whatever they were.
Yeah, hadn't that been a real shocker? He had long since known about Vampires and their whole headache, but he hadn't expected that, alongside normal vampire hunters, random folks, and families who took on that duty, the church also had such a force.
He was getting really tired of these surprises.
These days, Fury often felt tempted to ask Carol for help, ask her to come back and protect the Earth… but he also knew, she likely wouldn't do much before leaving again, he understood what kind of person she was.
She was a hero, someone who wanted to save lives, not rule them, not control them, but save them. And if people were safe and happy? She wouldn't care who ruled them.
If she returned to find all of Earth under Arthuria Pendragon's rule, but the vast majority of people were happy? Fury doubted she would give Arthuria more than a warning before leaving.
The mutant issue? She would call it dumb and tell them to handle it themselves, or worse yet, agree with Magneto and support mutant rights.
Carol wasn't someone who cared about politics; she didn't understand it. And the other threats Earth faces… it wasn't worthy of her time.
More so when they all knew that Earth was under the protection of Asgard, despite doing nothing when the Kree came, it still meant that Carol would likely continue to entrust them with keeping Earth safe… so no, she wasn't an option.
Instead, Fury was starting to rely on phase 2.
A new generation of weapons, able to really threaten the enemies they faced, not mere lead bullets that bounced off a demon's skin, or turned against them by the wave of a mutant's hand.
Wakanda and Doom were proving to be excellent examples of what superior tech could do.
Fury's one eye lingered on the thick folder marked with Latveria's seal, sitting apart from the rest like it carried a contagion. Victor von Doom didn't just use advanced technology — he was advanced technology, wrapped in steel and arrogance. Every time Fury read an analysis of Latverian defenses, it left him with more questions than answers.
Doom had drones that outmaneuvered SHIELD's best interceptors; he had automated robots and localized energy shields. He had turned his little kingdom into a fortress that even he couldn't see how it would be breached. Only the fact that he had been attacked before he had completed his grand transformation prevented him from becoming a global player just yet.
His arrogance was as great as his danger and power; that was something SHIELD had identified long ago. His ego didn't allow slights and could be used against him.
The UN thought Doom was just another strongman dictator, but Fury knew better. Doom was a visionary — and visionaries were always more dangerous than thugs.
Ultimately, Fury figured that Doom could be used, but they would need someone, something to counter him. Reed Richard could be that, Phase 2 could be that… as could Wakanda.
Wakanda, though… Wakanda was the opposite problem.
They smiled. They bowed. They played nice in meetings. And yet behind the smiles, behind the façade of tradition and spears, sat a civilization that made Stark look like he was tinkering in his garage.
Vibranium in every streetlamp, med-tech that could cure half the diseases SHIELD tracked, stealth systems that made satellites go blind. And now that Arthuria had forced them out of hiding, everyone knew it.
Fury still couldn't decide if he was thankful for Arthuria pointing out this hidden threat, or if he should be angry because now this threat was something he had to deal with.
Fury didn't trust easy — but he trusted Doom more than he trusted Wakanda. Doom was arrogant, blunt, loud. You always knew he was planning something because he told you. Wakanda was different. They played the long game. They'd hidden their true strength for centuries, and no one pulled that off without being patient, calculating, and ruthless.
This meant that for now, Fury planned to turn the two against one another, weaken both, while getting their tech for SHIELD. That way, once the smoke cleared, SHIELD would be able to level the playing field and restore peace.
Until he was ready, he would let things continue. Latveria's neighbours, with UN support, would keep Doom busy, and half of Africa was putting pressure or downright attacking Wakanda, not that it did much, hiding behind their energy shield.
Really, the world was a mess; thankfully, Phase 2 would soon reach initial success, and a new generation of weapons would be born.
Plus, his intel told him that after learning about Wakanda and their massive shield, Stark was working on his own energy shield tech and was getting close to matching the personal shields Doom had.
Stark might be a headache, but he was also someone Fury could trust to at least not want to take over the world, simply because Stark would be too lazy to rule.
And maybe because his heart was in the right place.
And so his eye drifted to the battered folder again. Avengers Initiative.
Because between Albion's knights, Doom's sorcery-science, Wakanda's cloaked empire, and Magneto's mutant kingdom, Fury could feel it in his bones: the age of ordinary men was already over.
"Perhaps it's time to push this again." He muttered, his last attempt still failed, but he knew the security council wasn't far off approving it.
He just needed to prove that even after Phase 2, they would still need special and rare individuals to handle rare and troublesome missions.
An elite fighting force.
Fury leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose, when the intercom crackled.
"Director," came Maria Hill's voice, clipped and urgent. "You're needed immediately."
His eye narrowed. "Hill, it's past midnight. This better not be another Senator crying about Albion."
"No, sir," Hill said, her voice tight. "It's the Cube. We've got an anomaly. Reed Richards is on site, and he says it's… waking up."
Fury was already on his feet, coat in hand. The Avengers folder lay open on his desk, the names inside half-shadowed by the lamp.
"Get the car ready. If the Cube's stirring, then playtime's over."
He killed the light, left the office, and muttered under his breath as he walked.
-----
The Cube facility thrummed like a heart under strain. Alarms pulsed in red along the walls, people running around, some carrying equipment to be saved in the worst case, and others to get themselves out before things possibly turn from bad to worse.
Nick Fury's car screeched to a halt outside, and he strode in with Hill and a detail of agents at his back. The moment the inner blast doors opened, the roar of the Tesseract struck him — not loud, but deep, a vibration that carried through bone and mind alike.
Fury's one good eye narrowed as he took in the scene. Banks of computers flickered, consoles sparking. A blue light flooded the room, casting long, trembling shadows. And in the middle of it all, standing at the edge of the containment rig, Reed Richards was working furiously, his arms stretched in impossible arcs, twisting knobs and typing commands across multiple stations at once.
"Richards," Fury barked, "you want to tell me why my Cube looks like it's about to tear a hole in the planet?"
Reed didn't look up. His voice was clipped, distracted. "It's not tearing a hole — not yet. It's… resonating. Something's pulling at it, trying to force a connection. If I can just stabilize the energy matrix—"
"You can't stabilize it, Reed!" Johnny Storm shouted, pacing like a caged tiger, fire flickering dangerously at his fingertips. "You've been poking that thing for weeks, and now it's—" he gestured helplessly at the blinding light "—this!"
"Johnny's right," Ben Grimm rumbled, his rocky skin catching the blue glow. "Whatever this is, it ain't natural. We need to shut it down, stretch. Pull the plug before the whole place blows."
"I can't shut it down!" Reed snapped, his voice fraying with tension as another monitor exploded in sparks. "The Cube is self-sustaining. It's feeding on the attempt to restrain it. If I cut the dampeners, we risk a runaway cascade that could level half the state."
Sue Storm had been silent until now, her hands clenched tight as faint ripples of force shimmered around her. She turned to Fury, her voice sharp but steady. "Director, you need to get people out of here. If Reed's wrong, if this thing blows—"
Fury's jaw tightened. "If this thing blows, there won't be a 'here' left to get people out of."
The Tesseract pulsed harder, a shockwave rattling the chamber. Hill caught herself against the railing, shouting over the din. "Sir, readings just spiked again! We're losing containment!"
Reed's arms blurred as he typed across three consoles at once, his face pale in the light. "No, no, no — I can still bring it under control. If I just redirect the—"
"Reed!" Johnny snapped, flame bursting fully to life now. "Listen to yourself! You're talking like—like Doom! Trying to bend something bigger than you into your damn equations!"
The name made Reed flinch — but he didn't stop.
The Cube screamed, a beam of pure blue lancing upward into the ceiling, punching through steel like it was paper. The facility shook as if gripped by a giant's hand.
Sue's shield snapped into place around them instinctively, holding back a wash of energy that would have incinerated lesser men. Johnny and Ben braced at her side. Fury's coat snapped in the gale as he raised his voice again.
"Somebody tell me what the hell we're looking at!"
No one answered. Reed's fingers flew across the consoles, eyes wide with something between fascination and terror. "It's not just energy anymore. It's… direction. Something's pushing from the other side."
"Other side of what?" Fury roared.
The Cube pulsed, harder this time, blue light swallowing the chamber in a blinding flare. For one impossible moment, Fury thought he saw shapes forming within the light — stretched shadows, a hint of a figure pressing outward, like a hand against glass.
Then the power spiked again, the floor groaning beneath them.
Hill's voice cracked through the din, urgent, almost panicked. "Director! Whatever this is — it's not contained! If it keeps climbing, the Cube won't just burn out, it'll—"
Her words vanished in another pulse. The air itself seemed to shudder, vibrating like a drumskin.
Fury bared his teeth against the storm, his one good eye fixed on the heart of the chamber where the light thickened, swirling like a wound torn in the world.
Something was coming through.
(End of chapter)
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