The private jet, a sleek testament to Stark's wealth, sliced through the high-altitude air.
Lucifer sat across from 'Natalie' (Natasha Romanoff), sipping a sparkling water while she worked on her tablet.
"You have an interesting resume, Mr. Morningstar,"
Natasha began, not looking up. Her voice was smooth, but Lucifer's Basic Empathy sensed the subtle, coiled tension—a fishing line being cast.
"From manual labor in the Bowery to a high-security logistics consultant for Stark Industries in six months. That's quite the career leap. Did you, perhaps, have a hidden advantage?"
Lucifer gave her a placid smile.
"I'm excellent at meeting deadlines, Natalie. And I never miss a delivery."
He kept his answers vague, letting the spy think whatever she wanted.
He didn't care if she knew he had power; he cared if she knew how it worked.
He knew she was trying to bait him into revealing the source of his funds or the nature of his abilities, but before he could offer another non-committal reply, the world violently shifted.
A sudden, jarring explosion ripped through the jet's tail section.
The lights flickered, the plane shuddered, and the sound of high-pressure air screaming through a breach filled the cabin.
[Danger: Immediate Combat Scenario. Cabin Pressure Compromised.]
[Threat Level: A (Mercenary Attack - Air Assault Specialists)]
Natasha dropped her tablet, instantly shedding the 'Natalie' persona.
Her glasses were gone, and her eyes, now focused and lethal, locked onto the emergency exit.
"Get down!"
She barked, drawing a concealed weapon from her cuff.
Lucifer didn't move.
He felt the terrifying speed of the external attack—a team of specialized mercenaries attempting to cut a hole in the fuselage to grab the package.
They would use explosive decompression as a weapon.
He had three minutes.
"Shield Up!"
Lucifer didn't just activate the field around himself.
He focused his will, pushing the consciousness of the Tier 6 Force Field outward, visualizing a solid, shimmering cocoon of dense, liquid metal alloy surrounding the entire private jet's cabin and cockpit.
KZZZZT!
The Tier 6 Shield flared into existence.
It covered the exposed tear in the tail and sealed the cabin, muffling the roar of the wind and instantly stabilizing the air pressure.
The metallic sheen of the defense was visible, covering the windows like a highly polished mirror.
Natasha froze, her weapon half-raised, staring at the sheer physics-defying impossible barrier now surrounding them.
Her Basic Empathy signal spiked from Control to sheer Bewilderment and Aggressive Classification—she was processing him as a high-tier threat, categorizing the power as a meta-human ability.
"What in God's name was that?"
She demanded, her voice low and dangerously controlled.
Lucifer, straining against the power drain of maintaining a defense around a whole aircraft, spoke through gritted teeth.
"Basic protection. Didn't want the package getting wet."
Outside, the mercenaries, confused by the sudden impenetrable barrier, switched tactics.
They started peppering the fuselage with heavy-caliber rounds, hoping to breach the cockpit.
DUD-DUD-DUD!
The heavy impacts were absorbed silently by the liquid metal alloy shield.
The jet continued to shake from the pilot's struggle, but the cabin remained structurally intact.
Lucifer held the defense for a grueling 2 minutes and 15 seconds, just long enough for the mercenary assault to fail and for the pilot to execute a controlled, rapid descent.
[Tier 6 Force Field Activated (9/10)]
[Power Usage: Extreme Load (Area Defense)]
[Ability Cooldown Reset: 5 minutes (Normal Cooldown)]
Lucifer let the shield dissipate in a silent shimmer.
He felt the raw, physical stress of the exertion, but he also felt the subtle feedback of his system.
The jet, badly damaged but whole, executed a violent emergency landing in a remote, mountainous forest clearing somewhere in the Midwest.
The second it ground to a halt, the cabin filled with the acrid smell of burnt metal.
Natasha was already moving, checking the cockpit, securing the sensitive equipment, and assessing the damage.
The pilot confirmed the plane was grounded; there was no flying out of this clearing.
She turned back to Lucifer, her face a mask of professional intensity. The disguise was completely gone.
"You're a meta. Or a mutant. I don't care which. I'll let the director worry about the classification,"
She said, retrieving the secure package and tossing Lucifer a heavy-duty backpack.
"The data card is intact. We are 900 miles from San Francisco, and every agency that saw that tracking blip disappear is going to be here in an hour. We are proceeding on foot."
Lucifer shrugged, stuffing essentials into the backpack.
He didn't bother to deny the 'meta' label. Let S.H.I.E.L.D. think he was a classified asset; it gave him cover.
"Lead the way, Agent"
Lucifer replied, strapping the bag on.
"But this trek better count as two high-risk deliveries for the trouble."
Natasha paused, a flicker of something resembling grudging respect in her eyes.
"You really are loyal to the job, aren't you?"
"My account balance isn't going to raise itself,"
Lucifer countered, checking his Force Field's cooldown.
"Let's go. I'd like to be out of the blast radius when S.H.I.E.L.D. decides to 'recover' this plane."
He pulled the encrypted data card and secured it firmly.
He was alone with the Black Widow, deep in the woods, with a Platinum-Tier delivery to complete and every spy agency in the world on their tail.
[Current Status: Stranded in Midwest Wilderness. Partnership: Black Widow (Hostile/Conditional).]
[Next Objective: Reach San Francisco via unconventional means to complete the delivery.]
Little spoiler: Dimensional Logistics Unlocked
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