Ally Miller sits in her chair. Her brown hair low, casual, as she leans over and reads the responses from Karlen last night. She reads his answers to her questions casually. Written in Chinese. She pulls out her phone and uses Google Translate as she goes. "Can a human not become a fox in your world?" she had asked. He responded, "Yes, but only so long as they keep their soul protected. Even a small mental barrier prevents the inversion process. It's not enough to stop the physics of the realm, or fox-behavior, but it is enough to stop being turned inside out. It's working on you because of long-term exposure to another shadow soul—one fully committed to being near you. I can't even visit home because I need to be here for the process to stay stable." She sighs, unsure what half of this means, but notes it down in her growing understanding of soul physics. Her other question: "Why do the children with shadow fox links not transform?" He responds, "Because their shadow foxes are not fully there. They spend little time watching them. It's more like... they sense their children only during strong emotions. A somewhat solid wall is in place. One we do not have. Mr. Fox was the only reason that wall is not there. He chooses the walls of his domain."
She stares at her own hand, laying still on the desk. Normal fingers. Normal nails. But she knows what she'd seen in the dream. Purple cracks. Animated skin. Fox ears. A tail flickering behind her like light behind glass. Though she guesses everyone is animated in that dimension. But still... she kind of hates how animalistic she feels half the time. Yet... she still feels like herself. Her question: "Would you want to be human?" His response: "No. I enjoy being a fox now, I guess. I have friends in the fox realm. A job. A purpose. I just want to be accepted. Though I do miss how solid things feel in the real world." Then her last question for this session: "Why do you think Mr. Fox chose foxes?" Karlen's response? "I don't know, but... I think it's because it reflects human nature. The truth—that we are still animals. Even with societies. We feel, assume, and go blind to things we should know. When in reality, animals are more honest. Animals don't lie—at least not as often as humans. We hide our animal nature. So, in his mind, I guess... when inverted, a soul becomes animal."
Then she reads his questions to her. "Do SHIELD kill because they lack power not to kill?" She was confused by the statement, then remembered a report about a mission from another department—where they killed. She sighs and writes on her computer, to print later in the proper language: "I'm not sure, but yeah. We don't have the ability to pull people into TVs and prevent them from harming others easily." She moves on. "What do you miss about human movement most?" She responds: "People not staring at me like I'm a freak." Leaves it at that, with an annoyed face. His next question: "Would you like to visit the realm? Just for a night. Mr. Fox contacted me recently and offered." She frowns deeply at that one.
She decides to think on it. Prints her responses in Chinese, gets it ready to send next week. She arrives at work. A woman's suit on her frame. But her walk is unprofessional. Her high heels help resist her natural desire to walk like an animal. But... her knees bend down, making her already short frame shorter. Her movements are precise. Her eyes wander and observe the room instinctively. Shoulders slouched. Hands close to her body. A natural anxiety. Others notice. She doesn't fit in as she enters SHIELD headquarters. Elevator ride. Her personal research wing. Small. High-level security. High-level secrecy. So they can talk about the Fox case in private. She prepares for their weekly meeting—notes, hypotheses, behavioral profiles. They're still trying to understand his methods. His mind. His physics. That's the goal.
The meeting starts. Agent Lawton at the head. Herself. Tom. Agent Dill. Dill is security. His job is to prepare for hostility. He... hates her. Reasonable, maybe. She walks like a fox now. Has a fox in her shadow. The team knows it. Just not that she communicates with it. Lawton speaks. Her eyes focus hard on his. Direct. Unusual. "Let's start," Lawton says. "First, Mr. Fox's newest kits. So far... no changes in behavior. But he's expanding. Pings are reaching into Mexico and Canada. It's getting harder to track him. Predictions?" Tom replies: "My data shows his pings will reach the whole globe in weeks. Either he's expanding... or always could, and is now choosing to." She nods quietly. Dill says, "That's a problem. We don't know how his senses work. What he can see. What his network really is." He glares at her. "Every shadow fox is probably one of his eyes." She glares back. Holds the growl. They'd argued days ago. She yelled. Growled like an animal. Left the room. He's not wrong about the eyes—just... Karlen chooses what gets shared.
Tom breaks the tension. "Seriously, stop it. She's already stressed. Having a shadow fox follow her—" Dill cuts in: "She needs a checkup before I trust her. She's avoided all exams after the first one. You can all tell... she's not moving right." Silence. Tom sighs. "I kind of agree. But stop being rude." Lawton says, "Fury told me to let her be. She's allowed to keep secrets, if it's for SHIELD's sake. He trusts her. She's our diplomatic connection to Mr. Fox." Dill grits his teeth. "I'd trust her more if she wasn't clearly hiding things."
Tom leans in. Arms folded. Voice softer. "Ally. You know we don't think you're dangerous. But it's starting to show. People notice." His tone is like someone defusing a bomb. "I've worked beside you for months. You're still you. But you've got... someone in the passenger seat. We want to know who's driving." He means it. It's not suspicion—it's care.
She wants to lie. Dodge. But... she frowns. They're right. They deserve to know. They're cleared. Trusted. So she speaks slowly. "Fine. It's personal. First—Mr. Fox said, shadows are people. Changed people. But still people. No mind control." Her knees bent too much. Hands close. Shoulders slack, crouch-like. She doesn't fit anymore, and they see it. "That's the first thing. The shadow foxes follow him because they choose to. After recovery." Lawton locks eyes. "That intel—no one else has. Can you speak to Karlen? Your shadow?" Silence. The bad kind. Fear hanging. She blinks. Swallows. "Yes. I can... kind of." Tom leans back. Not shocked. He knew. The data was always off. She wasn't possessed—no parasitic pattern. He asks, "What do you mean, kind of?" Dill sharpens. Lawton listens, neutral but intense.
She sighs. Foxish. Cuts it off. Makes it a human sigh. She's nervous. "At first? Nothing. No weird feelings. Not even a shadow sense. Ordinary people—or even our best sensors—can't detect him. Then... dreams. Then sleepwalking. Then I set up cameras. Then... we learned to communicate. I guess. It wasn't possession. It was like... sharing. Negotiated. Scheduled. Every Saturday night." The room goes still. Dill sharpens again. "You gave that thing access to you?" She snaps: "You try telling a man who's been a shadow fox for 40 years, who just remembered what food tastes like, 'no.'" Dill sputters: "That thing's not human!" She snaps back, calm and sharp: "You don't know what it means to be human. From what I've seen... he is. Mind's still human. He once had a body. A life." Lawton slams the table. "Quiet! Sit! We are here for Miller's report!" Dill growls but sits. Miller turns away, sitting, low and growling under her breath.
She has what no sensor could find. What no op could extract. That made her dangerous. And irreplaceable. Lawton speaks low. "Fury says leave her be. I agree. She's not the same, but she's still with us. If that means she walks like a fox and growls at meetings, fine. Miller... if you're willing to share more, let me know. Dill—you're one comment away from reassignment. Fury's orders." Miller looks up, surprised. Her face still human. But her eyes too honest. Or too animal. Movements: animal. But mind: human. It's weird. She's quiet. Tom adds, "I'm sorry. I know you're changing. But we need to understand." She nods. "Fine." Ignores Dill. "But first—accept the shadows are human. They have cities. They call their world the Anima-Tied Realm. Or the Fox Realm. Everything becomes animated there. Even people. Even non-foxes. Becoming a shadow fox is effortful for Mr. Fox. It depends on mental resistance."
Tom asks, "How human is Karlen?" She sighs, rubs her head. "More than most I know. Just... basic. He explained it. When someone becomes a shadow fox, they're turned inside out. And that means... no more lying to yourself. Nothing held back. No block. Feel sad? You look sad. Dislike someone? Shows. Don't understand something? It rises—child-like curiosity." Lawton nods. "So they become human-adjacent. Human—but transparent." Miller nods. "Mr. Fox doesn't punish them. He lets them live. Build. Create. Just don't lie—to others, or to yourself. They punish themselves. Karlen said most choose to stay. Many stop caring about being human. Mr. Fox can't undo the change. Not after full transformation."
Tom asks, "Can they lie to others?" Miller pauses. "Yes. But only if they choose. They can't fake emotions. Can't mask. They can only balance or minimize feelings truthfully. They must be truly healthy." Dill snaps: "You want us to empathize with a thing that altered your body. You growl now. You walk like an animal. This isn't personality—it's biology. We don't know where this ends." Silence. Lawton glares. Karlen's shadow bristles. Tom watches—tense. Miller snarls: "How is this different from Captain America or the others? The only difference is it's from a cartoon realm. With cartoon physics. In my soul." Dill barks, "You just want to be an animal!" Her rage ignites. Nearby screens glitch. Shadow ears behind her—just for a second. She growls. Animal, perfect. Then stops. Breathes. Grips the metal table—dents it. Silence. Tom mutters, half-fear, half-joke: "Proving my point." Leaves the room.
Tom pauses, then returns. "You okay?" Ally Miller doesn't answer right away. Breathes. Leans back. Whimpers. "Yeah. Just... can we get that guy off the team?" Lawton is quiet. "I'm not sure. He has a right to be concerned. You made the lights flicker. Bent metal. That's beyond human. I believe you're human. I believe the foxes are human. But that doesn't make them safe. Their body is a weapon. Their shadows are phenomena. We still don't understand." The room feels cold. Miller is quiet. Tired. Lawton breathes. Makes the call no one wants. "This can't go on without oversight. You need training. Monitoring. Not containment—Fury said no. I agree." She closes up. Whimpers. Sighs. Half-animal. Half-surrender. "Fine... but seriously—keep it as classified as possible."