A storm of agents rushed toward them.
Nick, Hill, Natasha, and Clint fought back with ease. The difference was undeniable. These were low and mid-level operatives; they were top-tier. In SHIELD, rank wasn't just decoration. It meant strength, precision, instincts honed to perfection. And in combat, those four were the best the agency had.
But not all infiltrators were grunts. The real threats —the strategists, the masterminds— hadn't made a move. The painting had exposed them, yes, but they were still hiding deep within the folds of the organization. Coming into the open would've been idiotic. Even among the combatants, revealing themselves was suicide.
Unless, of course, the goal was never to win.
Pierce wasn't stupid. He knew they had no chance. All he needed was time.
By the time Fury realized what was going on, it was too late. Pierce was already strapping on a parachute, handed to him discreetly by one of his men.
Clint, always the most observant, reacted in a flash. He fired a thicker arrow toward the ceiling —a harpoon. It pierced through the roof, spread metallic claws like a spider, and anchored itself to the floor above.
Without pause, he shot three more arrows, each connected to the same cable. One to Fury. One to Hill. One for himself.
"Natasha!" he shouted.
She understood immediately. With catlike agility, she darted between the infiltrators and grabbed Clint's hand just as he fastened the hook to his belt.
Then came the explosion.
Light. Noise. The floor vanished. Most of the people in the room fell to their deaths.
Pierce was unharmed, protected by a blue energy shield that absorbed the blast. As he fell, he opened his parachute and calmly descended until a jet swooped in and picked him up. A second later, it vanished into the horizon.
The other four survived too —thanks to Clint's quick thinking— but the blast had thrown them hard against the Helicarrier's walls. They were out cold.
---
~ HYDRA Base ~
"Damn it!"
Alexander Pierce slammed his fist on the table.
"That bastard Laplace ruined our entire infiltration. It doesn't even matter if they find us now —the government suspects SHIELD as a whole. And if SHIELD's no longer operational, then what's the point of having control over it?"
"You should calm down"
Strucker said calmly across the room.
"Calm down? The council's gone. It's just you and me now. Three, if we count that old computer."
At that, Strucker's expression shifted from composed to stunned.
"That's impossible. SHIELD shouldn't have the ability to catch them all. They were military elites, politicians, even members of secret organizations almost larger than SHIELD."
Pierce let out a dry, bitter laugh.
"SHIELD? You forget who we are? We started the Second World War. SHIELD isn't after us —the entire world is."
Strucker turned pale. The full weight of their situation finally hitting him.
"What do we do now?"
"For now, we lay low. No bold moves. Anything that gets us exposed, we avoid. But hiding like cowards? No. We still have people in high places. We apply pressure. SHIELD's no longer useful. Let's destroy it before it tries to destroy us."
Pierce stepped closer, his tone sharpening.
"In the meantime, we'll split the surviving agents from the council's cells between us. Until we find new members to replace them."
Strucker's lips curled into a cold, precise smile. If society had rejected him, if influence and politics were out of reach —then he would return to what he did best:
Science.
Because true power wasn't political, social, or even military. It was the power to rewrite the rules of nature.
He had failed before. Again and again. But each time, he learned the same truth:
It still wasn't enough.
Even reaching the peak of human potential wasn't enough. If he wanted to rule, he'd need to surpass the very concept of "human."
The past few years had proven it.
A green monster that smashed through cities.
A man who summoned lightning.
A girl with super strength and lightning reflexes.
And now, someone who could see the future.
The military, the economy, the global powers —none of them could stop these beings.
That was the kind of power Strucker wanted.
He didn't yet have the resources, but he had a plan. A dangerous, ambitious plan.
It wouldn't start with him, of course. That would be foolish. He'd begin with others: men, women, adults, children —it didn't matter. As long as they were human, he could test on them.
Grant them abilities beyond comprehension.
Refine the process.
Replicate it on himself.
And then…
He would stand above all of them.
'What nature refuses to give, science can manufacture.'
Both Strucker and Pierce smiled to themselves —each lost in his own vision of the future.
---
~ Helicarrier - Medical Bay ~
Nick Fury stirred.
The hit had been brutal. Anyone else would still be out cold.
But Fury wasn't "anyone else." He was always prepared. Always armed, even inside his own Helicarrier.
Still, that wasn't what irritated him the most.
What truly got under his skin was the message he'd received the moment he woke up:
The World Council wanted to speak with him.
And after everything that had happened, the last thing Fury wanted was to deal with a bunch of arrogant politicians who thought they knew better.