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The agent in front of them really was a Skrull in disguise. But the unexpected bonus was that, just before Henry took him down, he'd heard the man curse.
"Fuckin' Kryptonian!"
It was spoken in an Earth language, so Henry understood it clearly. As for whether Barbara had noticed it—he wasn't sure.
That meant the entire incident finally had a clear cause: his Kryptonian identity had been exposed to the Skrulls, and they wanted him eliminated.
That, in turn, raised several questions for Henry.
Did this universe also have Krypton?
What kind of grudge existed between Krypton and the Skrulls?
And most importantly—the thing Henry was most curious about—did the Skrulls not know the effects of yellow sunlight on Kryptonians? If they did know, why would they use such a crude, roundabout scheme to frame him?
And just how much did the Skrulls actually know about Krypton and Kryptonians?
The answers could only come from the Skrulls themselves. Or perhaps from the Kree who were also bound to show up.
Either way, both were interstellar-empire-level powers. There was no reason the Skrulls would know about Krypton while the Kree knew nothing.
"…This is the alien Fury was talking about?" Barbara stared at the lifeless, green-skinned Skrull, eyes wide in disbelief. "The one that can change its appearance?"
Compared to that, whether Henry had killed someone barely even registered. Killing an unregistered alien—could that really be a big deal?
…Well, saying it wasn't a big deal also felt wrong.
Barbara's mind was in complete chaos as she watched Henry calmly wipe the fingerprints off the gun in his hand, then place it back into the grip of the agent who'd been shot earlier—the one who still looked human.
He made sure to press the grip and trigger properly, leaving clear prints, then laid the gun neatly beside the human agent's body.
"Henry… what are you doing?" Barbara asked blankly.
Henry found the handcuff key on the fallen agent and unlocked the cuffs behind Barbara's back before replying.
"They like telling stories based on what they see. So I helped them write one."
He gestured toward the bodies.
"One of your agents discovered an alien, opened fire, and both of them went down. Meanwhile, the two people they were guarding took advantage of the chaos and escaped. Sounds reasonable enough, right?
"Ballistics don't lie. Whose gun fired which bullet will be clear once they run the tests. That way, they can't pin it on us.
"And if S.H.I.E.L.D. still insists on blaming us after that—"
Henry pointed at the dead green-skinned alien.
"—then I've got nothing left to say."
Freed at last, Barbara flexed her arms, sore from being twisted behind her back. She still wanted to ask how Henry had broken free of the handcuffs—everything she knew about him only said he was bulletproof.
But there was something more urgent.
"So what do we do now?" Barbara asked. "Leave? Stay? Do we tell Fury? At this point, Director Keller looks suspicious too."
Henry didn't answer right away. Instead, he whistled toward the hill.
Only then did Barbara realize that Katie was hidden behind the slope, perfectly positioned to pounce at any moment—assuming Henry gave the order.
The whistle wasn't a signal for an ambush, though. That had only been a backup plan. Katie simply padded over at her usual leisurely pace and stopped by Henry's side.
After giving the tiger a few casual pats on the head, Henry finally spoke.
"Of course we're leaving. Staying here doesn't help anyone inside the base—unless we storm it ourselves.
"And that's the option I oppose the most. You've seen it already: the aliens have infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. Unless we kill them, we can't tell who's human and who isn't.
"With them stirring chaos inside, we'd have no way of knowing whether the people attacking us were Skrulls or just S.H.I.E.L.D. agents being manipulated.
"This one gave himself away by framing us too blatantly. But inside the base, there are regular soldiers on guard too. If we force our way in, how do you think they'll react?"
Henry looked at her seriously.
"You wouldn't suggest that they're allowed to shoot us, while we're only allowed to knock them out—no killing, right? If that's the case, we're better off staying as far away as possible.
"As for Nick Fury—whether to warn him is up to you. Decide for yourself whether you think he's in on it, or just an idiot who hasn't noticed yet."
"Damn it… that idiot," Barbara cursed under her breath. "Being his subordinate is a fucking nightmare."
Even so, she still pulled out the S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued two-way communicator and rapidly typed out a short message before sending it.
By then, Henry had already driven the car back onto the road. At another whistle, Katie deftly slipped through the open rear window and into the back seat—fluid and effortless, like only a true feline could be.
After sending the message, Barbara finally climbed into the passenger seat. Henry immediately drove off.
Still, Barbara kept muttering anxiously and glancing back from time to time.
Seeing this, Henry could only reassure her.
"Don't worry about Fury. I don't know his full background, but he's far more experienced than we are. If anyone expects us to charge into danger to rescue him, they're mistaken. He's much more capable of getting himself out."
"But at the start, he told us to act as backup," Barbara said.
"Yes—but when things went wrong inside the base, he contacted S.H.I.E.L.D.'s higher-ups first, not us. That alone tells you he didn't think we could solve it.
"Having us as 'backup' was more like an excuse to keep us outside."
Henry's logic was flawless, but Barbara still didn't like it. Back at school, she'd been considered both brilliant and formidable—how had she turned into dead weight the moment she joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Just as she was about to argue again, the communicator in her hand lit up with a single message:
LEAVE
Her mood sank instantly.
Henry hadn't yet learned how to read electronic displays through solid objects, and the angle was wrong anyway, so he had no idea what the message said.
"What is it?" he asked.
Barbara held the screen up in front of him, her voice subdued.
"Fury wants us to leave."
"Looks like his situation isn't great either," Henry said. "Otherwise he wouldn't have sent just five letters."
"But we can't help him anyway…"
"Not making things worse is helping," Henry replied calmly. "With so many unknowns, rushing back to 'save' someone—how do you think that ends?
"You save me, I save you, and in the end, no one gets out. Movies do this all the time."
Barbara gave him a strange look.
"You sound like the guy in a movie where the female lead says she'll stay behind to cover the escape—and you actually just run away."
"What's wrong with that?" Henry said matter-of-factly. "One person escaping is better than two people dying. That's the rational choice."
"But then how is the movie supposed to continue?"
"That's exactly why I didn't become an actor," Henry said with a shrug. "Everyone complains those plots are stupid—but if you don't film them that way, no one watches.
"So who am I supposed to laugh at? The audience? The director? Or the actors who compromise and go along with it?"
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