Let's reach 200 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
-Coulson-
I assess the scene. Total chaos. A building looks like it went a few rounds with a heavyweight champ. I stroll through the debris, Agent May at my side, Ward a step behind.
"Report," I say.
Ward steps forward, notepad in hand. "Sir, eyewitnesses report a large green creature, presumed to be the Hulk, engaged in combat with multiple entities. Some described as…monstrous. Others, well, giant lizards, sir."
"Lizards?" I ask.
"That's the gist, sir. Also, reports of a guy on a motorcycle, the same one from Times Square, seen helping people escape."
"Cipher," I say. "Always a showman."
"Casualties?"
"Surprisingly light, sir. Thanks to… the motorcycle guy, apparently. And some kind of healing touch from another entity. We're still compiling the data."
Before I can digest that, a familiar voice booms.
"Coulson! What the hell is going on here?"
General Ross, face redder than usual, strides toward me, a gaggle of soldiers in tow. "This is a military operation, Coulson. You have no jurisdiction here."
I raise an eyebrow. "General. Always a pleasure. I'd say we have every reason to be here. We suspect a… monster sighting. Falls under our purview."
"Monster? This is about Banner! Don't play coy with me, Coulson."
"General, I wouldn't dream of it. But let's be frank, you're chasing a green giant. We're looking at something…else. Something that turns buildings into abstract art."
"You think I'm stupid, Coulson? This is about Banner. Always has been."
"General, I assure you, SHIELD has broader interests than just Dr. Banner. Although, I will admit, his… transformations, are certainly of interest."
"So, what? You think there are two monsters in this town? That's your excuse?"
"I'm not sure what to think, General. All I know is, the world has gotten stranger lately. And SHIELD is in the business of investigating strange."
We stand there, sizing each other up. A political dance, as old as time. Ross wants Banner. I want…well, I'm not entirely sure what I want yet. But I know it involves Digimon, a kid playing hero, and a mess of unanswered questions.
I sigh, internally. "General, I propose a compromise. We share information. Your men focus on Dr. Banner. We focus on the, shall we say, other… anomalies. We keep each other in the loop. Mutually beneficial, wouldn't you agree?"
Ross chews on it. He needs Banner, and he knows SHIELD won't back down easily. "Fine. But I want full access to your findings. And I call the shots on Banner."
"Of course, General. We wouldn't have it any other way."
We shake on it, a fragile truce in a city already teetering on the edge of chaos. As Ross barks orders to his troops, I pull out my phone.
"Agent Hill, patch me through to the Director."
A moment later, Fury's voice crackles through the speaker.
"Coulson. What's the situation?"
"Complicated, Director. We had a Hulk sighting. Also, Cipher and his…associates, were involved. Plus, a new variable: General Ross."
"Ross. Figures. What about Cipher? Did you ID him?"
"Negative, Director. Still a ghost. But I have a theory. He seems to be following the Digimon."
"You think he's headed for the Pacific?"
"It's my best guess, Director. We know about the reports of that Digimon in the Pacific. The big one. Too strong for us to contain in the water. If Cipher is hunting Digimon, that's where he'll go next."
"Keep an eye on it, Coulson. But don't engage without backup. That thing in the Pacific is a whole different ball game."
"Understood, Director. Coulson out."
I pocket the phone, a familiar weight settling in my gut. This Digimon business is escalating fast. And a storm is brewing in the Pacific.
"May," I say. "Prep the Bus. We're going on a trip."
…
The blackest depths of the Pacific conceal secrets best left undisturbed. A SHIELD vessel, a mere speck on the vast, indifferent ocean, lowers a submarine into the crushing abyss. Its mission: to hunt a phantom, a digital anomaly rumored to lurk in the inky black. Inside the cramped vessel, two souls, ill-prepared for the terrors below, steel themselves for the descent.
The submarine groans under the immense pressure. Each meter deeper is a step further into a realm devoid of light and hope. One of the agents, his face pale and slick with sweat, thought he saw a fleeting shadow move past the viewport.
"Did you see that?" the agent asks, his voice tight with unease.
"See what?" replies the other, eyes glued to the sonar display.
"Something just went past the window. Big."
The second agent shakes his head. "Sonar's clear. Probably just your imagination."
Deeper and deeper they plunged, the silence broken only by the hum of the submarine's engines and the frantic beating of their hearts. The sonar screen flickers, then erupts in a blinding display of chaotic energy. An enormous shape, a void of darkness against the black backdrop, fills the screen. It's impossibly large, defying all known parameters of marine life.
"What the hell is that?" one of the agents gasps, his voice cracking with terror.
Before his partner could respond, a deafening screech of metal fills the submarine. The vessel rocks violently, alarms blare. The lights cut out, plunging the interior into total darkness.
"Report!" a voice crackles over the comms from the ship above. "Sub, report your situation!"
Static. Then, a distorted, garbled transmission, barely audible above the din. "We're under attack… something huge… can't see…"
The transmission cuts out. The sonar screen goes blank, replaced by a wall of static. All contact is lost.
On the SHIELD vessel above, a cold dread settles over the crew. They stare at the empty sonar screen, imagining the horrors unfolding miles below. The shadow remains, a silent, unblinking eye watching from the depths. Its form is serpentine, impossibly long and sinuous, with edges that ripple and distort as if reality itself is fraying around it. A monstrous silhouette, a predator from a realm beyond human comprehension, has claimed its prey. The submarine is gone, swallowed by the darkness, leaving only silence and the chilling certainty that some secrets are best left buried at the bottom of the ocean.
***
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