Nick Fury was a skilled spy. One of the first tricks he learned in this line of work was to keep his face blank, no matter what was happening in front of him.
So even as Romanoff calmly reported a paramilitary terrorist assault on a SHIELD embassy, complete with a superhuman who could somehow manipulate wind, he did not react. Not even when she described the attackers slipping through the embassy's layout like they had memorized the blueprints, which meant traitors. Not even when she mentioned how close they had come to wiping out the entire building.
His face remained stone.
And when she moved on to the part about SHIELD being infiltrated by a supposedly long-dead Nazi organization, he still did not twitch. Hydra. Which, if true, meant a giant conspiracy had been operating under his nose for years.
Even the part about the intel coming from a superpowered clown wielding abilities that were borderline magical while using a goddamn lightsaber did not break his expression. He was the Director of SHIELD. He had a reputation to maintain, and if he started reacting to every piece of nonsense thrown at him, he would never stop.
"…and that concludes my report," Romanoff said from the video call. "Do you have any questions, sir?"
He hummed. In his head, he had questions stretching down the block and looping around the corner, but he was not about to show it. Goddammit, why did this kind of shit keep landing on his desk? "You think this information is credible?"
He already knew something was off inside SHIELD. His instincts had been screaming after that first investigation. But a conspiracy like this? Fiction would be more realistic.
Romanoff paused. A faint crease appeared between her brows, which was disconcerting. He was used to seeing her composed in all situations.
"He knew I was a Widow," she said quietly. "Not just that. He knew several names from my past. He knew things no one alive should know. It sounds like gibberish, Director, but I can't dismiss it. How the hell did he know?"
"Did he perhaps read it from you?" Fury asked. "I trust your skills, Romanoff, but the world is turning strange. For all we know, he pulled a tarot card and chicken bones or god knows what else. Just because he is right about one thing does not mean he is right about the rest."
"True…" Romanoff nodded, though uncertainty flickered for a moment. Then her expression hardened. "Permission to extend my mission parameters? I would like to verify this personally."
Fury leaned back, fingers steepled, mind already racing ahead. He eyed her through the monitor. "If I said no, would you actually listen?"
Romanoff remained silent. The silence was damning enough.
He exhaled through his nose and rubbed his temple. "Fine. Report back the moment you get any kind of confirmation."
"Thank you, sir." She offered a crisp nod. "I know this situation is… stressful. I believe the Captain would be more than willing to assist you. He is already impatient, if I had to guess. Romanoff out."
The line clicked off.
"Right. The Captain," Fury muttered. He slumped back in the safehouse chair and let his head tilt toward the ceiling. "This is all just a dream, Nick. You are going to wake up and none of this nonsense will be real…"
It was insanity—no other word for it. There was no way he could have missed a conspiracy of this scale. No way Hydra had grown, infiltrated, and embedded itself for decades without anyone noticing. No way his friend Alexander had been tied up in some draconian secret society.
…Right?
Right.
He was not the type to hide from reality, even when it came swinging with a baseball bat. If the universe insisted on throwing this circus at him, he would drag it into the light piece by piece. If only to prove every part of it was dead wrong.
Fury picked up his secure phone, thumb hovering for a moment before dialing the number. Now was not the time to be stingy.
"Talos," he said once the other end clicked open, "I've got a job for you."
—
The flight over was wonderful in a way that made me wonder how anyone ever went back to economy after doing it once. A private jet was a 10/10 experience, and Zemo hadn't skimped, so we ended up with the full first-class treatment, where even the water tasted posh somehow.
Anna spent the first hour poking every button her seat had, then sat through my attempt to introduce her to the wonders of magical girls. Or at least, magical girls as they existed in the Marvel universe.
Peeking at the internet was strange. So much was familiar, but so much wasn't. Anime existed, but it hadn't taken off in this universe like it had in mine, which meant we were stuck watching a shoddy, slightly-off fan-sub of a magical girl show. It was still fun.
But the blissful part of traveling only lasted so long.
Our fake identities marked us as wealthy socialites, just two rich kids on a self-indulgent trip. Security barely glanced at us, and the hotel staff treated us like royalty. That was about when the sunshine-and-rainbows period ended.
I had the bright idea of meeting the Ancient One in Kathmandu. What I did not have was a plan. In Doctor Strange, the Ancient One used clairvoyance to nudge everything along and had Mordo scoop Stephen off the street.
Ironically, my trait No Peeking was shooting myself in the foot. Great for preventing clairvoyants or precogs from snooping around, but kind of terrible for being found by an ancient sorcerer who relied on exactly that.
We spent a couple of days trying to track it down ourselves. But Kathmandu was enormous; it was the capital of Nepal, not a back-alley village. Online maps were barely a thing in this time period, and asking locals about secret monasteries earned us nothing but confusion or us getting scammed. After two days of wasted effort, we resorted to wandering the streets and hoping we got lucky.
Which led to this.
Three rough-looking men blocked the alley ahead of us. Kathmandu had been mostly uneventful despite us being foreigners, so this was surprising. Then again, the crumbling brick walls, muddy ground, and general emptiness of the area made it pretty clear why this happened.
Ah. Maybe wandering around poor areas blindly wasn't the brightest idea
The leader twirled a rusted machete and grinned. "Money. Now."
Anna raised an eyebrow and simply turned to me. "You wanna or should I?"
He stepped closer. "Shut up and hand—"
I inhaled. I didn't even bother to use a form.
My foot hit the ground, and the world stretched thin. I blitzed forward and slapped the flat of his blade aside, then planted a heel in his chest. He hit the dirt with a grunt.
The second man swung a pipe at my head. I ducked, slid forward, and jabbed his knee. He screamed and toppled.
The third tried to stab me, but he was moving in slow motion. I flipped him clean over my shoulder. He landed face-first and didn't get up.
Thunder Breathing lets humans contend with demons. It felt almost unfair to use it against punks.
I crouched beside the leader, grabbing his collar. "Hey. Quick question. Kamar-Taj. Have you ever heard of it?"
He shook his head so fast it buzzed. His eyes were wide open like he was looking at a monster.
I tugged the machete from his hand.
The trio of thieves went very quiet when I grabbed the machete.
"Relax."
A soft mental chime rang.
[Feat Achieved! Rob the Robbers!]
[+1 Bronze Ticket]
Neat.
"Go. I won't be so nice next time."
I nudged the leader with the machete, and the trio scrambled away as fast as they could with their dignity leaking behind them.
Anna looked at them fleeing. "Shouldn't we call the police?"
"Nah. I've got no clue how the cops handle things here, and I'm not risking us getting pulled into all that," I replied. "Besides, I think they're scared enough already."
Anna raised an eyebrow at the spoils in my hand. "Why'd you take his machete?"
"A hero deserves his just rewards," I said, giving it a dramatic flourish. "Don't I look dashing?"
I struck a pose. A rat scurried past my foot, killing any chance of dignity.
"Pfft." Anna held up a lazy thumbs-up. "Yeah, suuuper heroic."
"So many critics." I tossed the machete aside like a stage prop that had betrayed me.
She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, are we actually going to keep looking? Wandering around the poor parts of the city forever isn't going to magically lead us to the secret wizard temple."
"Yeah, yeah. You're right. We've been at it for a few hours, so let's grab lunch or something."
"Yes!" She perked up immediately. "I never realized food could be this good. My auntie always bought TV dinners for everything."
"You gonna clean out the stall again, you glutton?" I teased.
"It was one time!" Her face went pink as she speed-walked ahead.
I chuckled and followed. It was something we noticed pretty quickly—between the Sun Princess Ring's regeneration and the Ring of the Bull's strength, Anna was burning through calories like a runaway furnace. Harmless, but wow, did she inhale food. She'd demolished every snack on the plane, then walked into a small bakery stall here in Nepal and basically performed a hostile takeover on their entire pastry inventory.
Honestly, she'd give Saber or Luffy a run for their money.
Which was why I wasn't surprised when she led us straight to another big stall overflowing with carb-heavy options. Nepalese street restaurants had a kind of cozy chaos to them: narrow alleys opening into bright food courts, steam lifting from bamboo baskets, vendors shouting over sizzling pans, and the smell of spice and fried dough drifting through the air.
The stall we stopped at served Tibetan-style dumplings, thick fried bread, and a couple of rice dishes I couldn't pronounce. Zemo had given us what he cheerfully called "spare change," which, in practice, was enough money to live like royalty for a few weeks. So lunch wasn't an issue.
Anna went to order while I claimed one of the outside tables. The wooden chair creaked when I leaned back. A moment later, she returned, looking embarrassed for reasons I could guess.
I opened my mouth to make another joke, but she shot me a glare that shut me right back up. I snorted. She hmphed, then bulldozed past the moment.
"So, I know we're going to see these wizards. But you never told me what we're actually going to do there?"
"Well…" I hesitated. She deserved honesty. "Besides getting magical assistance or protection, I think learning the mystic arts might help with your power."
She leaned in, eyes widening with hope. "You mean…?"
"Yeah. I think they might be able to teach you to control it," I said quietly.
Rogue's power in the comics was life-force absorption, and while the reason for her control issues varied in each comic, more often than not, it was a subconscious problem. The Mystic Arts had a whole bunch of techniques related to life force and the mind, so I had high hopes they'd be able to help with it at least.
"That's amazing," she whispered.
"No guarantees." I needed her to understand that part. The last thing I wanted was to crush her if it didn't work.
"It's fine, Jack." She rested her head on the table. A single white strand of hair fell forward, brushed by the breeze. She didn't look ecstatic or overwhelmed. Just… peaceful. "For so long I've been stuck with this power, and there was nowhere to look. Everything kept getting worse. But you keep pushing me forward, so even if this doesn't work… It's fine. Because one day I know you'll find something that will."
The smile she gave me was simple and sincere in a way that hit harder than anything. It was beautiful, and I felt the words catch in my throat.
Before I could reply, someone shouted out our order. Anna shot up with excitement and jogged over to grab the plates.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to get my heartbeat under control. Focus. Find Kamar-Taj.
We'd been asking around and wandering for days to no luck. Going blind like this wasn't getting us anywhere. Maybe we needed to cause a ruckus? Stir things up?
But No Peeking cut off any surveillance on me. So they'd have to hope the analog method would work. Kamar-Taj probably had people in the city or informants, so maybe making noise would draw their attention. Then again, making a mess in someone's backyard probably wasn't the most graceful first impression.
I was running out of ideas.
"Jack, make some space! I might've overordered."
I blinked out of my spiraling thoughts and turned. Anna was marching toward me with an armful of plates stacked so high I couldn't even see her face behind them. Pastries, dumplings, fried bread—it looked like she'd raided the entire stall again. Beside her stood an older Asian man, calm as a mountain, one hand steadying the top plate before it slid off.
Short hair. Mustache. A small, neat goatee. Robes disguised as casual clothing.
Anna beamed at me from behind the tower of food. "Mr. Wong was kind enough to help me!"
She set the plates down with a thump. Wong gave me a polite nod as he spoke with Anna about the food.
I stared back, too stunned to speak.
Or… they could just run into us.
Fate really was a bitch sometimes.
***
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on my Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.