In the Supreme Court courtroom, the air seemed to congeal into a block of lead, pressing heavily on everyone's chests.
Nick Fury, dressed in an orange prison uniform, his single eye sweeping over the jury, then the expressionless judge, finally landing on Captain America, who sat in the spectator section representing the Arbitrators, his face solemn.
His back was ramrod straight, like an unbending steel nail.
"The Star Program?" Fury's voice was low and hoarse, carrying an almost fanatical certainty, "Its only mistake was being launched too late! Power! Absolute power, unrestrained and above national and human order, is itself the greatest threat! The Arbitrators? Look at them now! The entire Planet is cheering for them! They move a finger, and the World order is rewritten! Today they can be heroes, but tomorrow? When their will overrides billions of ordinary people, who will limit them? Who will judge them?"
He suddenly pointed in the direction of the Arbitrators' representative seats, his single eye burning with a final flicker of defiance: "To let them run wild? That is to create a new group of tyrants in hero's clothing for this World! History has proven countless times that absolute power inevitably leads to absolute corruption! There must be limits! There must be a trump card to control them! The Star Program? That was just the beginning! A necessary means!"
The faces of the jury members showed undisguised disgust and absurdity.
Limit the Arbitrators? Control the Arbitrators?
At a time when the Arbitrators had saved Blue Star from countless disasters and prevented numerous malicious incidents, with their prestige soaring, Fury's accusations sounded like a madman's ravings.
Some even shook their heads slightly, letting out inaudible sighs. In the spectator section, a low hum of discussion arose, filled with disdain.
The judge emotionlessly struck his gavel: "Silence!"
His gaze towards Fury was devoid of warmth, "Defendant Nicholas Joseph Fury, your inflammatory statements end here. Based on your crimes of colluding with Valentina to develop illegal super soldiers and planning actions that threaten global security and stability, this court's final verdict is: life imprisonment! Immediately escorted to the Mariana Trench Prison!"
No chance for appeal.
The sound of the gavel falling brought a cold finality to Fury's era.
The heavy metal gate slammed shut behind Fury, completely cutting off the last sliver of light from the outside World.
The Mariana Trench Prison is located beneath the deepest, darkest trench in the Pacific Ocean, a tomb specifically for superpowered high-risk criminals.
Damp, cold air, heavy with the smell of salt and rust, filled his nostrils. Fury took a deep breath of the suffocating air and walked to the only light source in the small cell—a dim, White lamp.
"It came sooner than I expected," Fury said without turning, his voice remarkably clear and calm in the empty, silent cell.
Just behind him, the thick shadows untouched by the light seemed to come alive, silently twisting and stretching. Two figures emerged from the darkness like ink, solidifying completely.
Vergil, with hair as White as snow, his pupils gleaming coldly in the dim light, his right hand casually resting on the hilt of his Yamato. Beside him, Uchiha Madara, his Reincarnation Eye swirling with a faint, deep purple glow in the shadows, his scarlet Sharingan faintly visible.
"It seems I was right," Fury slowly turned halfway, his single eye sharply scanning the two, a knowing, relieved smile even gracing his lips, "He's not like any 'hero' I've ever known. He's more like a player behind the chessboard. Magneto? The Mutant Brotherhood? Are those so-called 'villains'… also pieces on his chessboard?"
"On the surface, he's a righteous Arbitrator—passionate, just, kind. The fervor and selflessness he displayed in eliminating enemies threatening Blue Star, was it all a disguise?"
Fury chuckled at this, "I truly underestimated Chen Tian. I never would have thought that a young man in his twenties could simultaneously control both Light and Shadow."
"Vergil, you were the one who rescued Erik and Logan from the HYDRA Base in the North Pole, weren't you?"
Vergil and Madara remained silent like two statues.
No words, no movements. Only the killing intent, almost congealed into liquid, permeated and froze the cold air of the narrow cell.
But this deathly silence was, in itself, the loudest answer.
The smile on Fury's face deepened, carrying a weary sense of relief after understanding everything. "Heh… as expected. That kid hides really deep… even deeper than I do…" He sighed, as if a thousand-pound shackles had been lifted, his body relaxing slightly.
He no longer looked at the two, but instead gazed up at the cold alloy ceiling of the cell, as if trying to penetrate the Earth and see the sky he had sworn to protect with his Death. "Do it. Give me a quick end. Don't make him wait too long."
Madara's Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan rotated silently. A crimson light suddenly ignited and exploded in Fury's single eye!
The expression on Fury's face instantly froze.
There was no clash of blades, no flying flesh and blood. In the depths of Fury's consciousness, the absolutely real illusion descended instantly.
He "saw" Black Widow Natasha's mocking smile as she plunged a fatal poison needle into his carotid artery; he "saw" Captain America Steve Rogers, his eyes cold as ice, fiercely striking his head with his vibranium shield; he even "saw" Maria Hill, his most capable assistant, personally altering S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest directives, branding him a traitor…
Scene after scene, all the people he had trusted and relied on most in his life, betraying and tearing him apart in the most direct, coldest ways!
Each betrayal was like a heavy hammer striking his heart, each "Death" brought suffocating despair and overwhelming rage!
Real physiological reactions instantly swept through his entire body!
His blood pressure surged wildly like an out-of-control Rocket, tearing at fragile blood vessel walls; his heart pounded frantically and irregularly in his chest, each beat bringing tearing pain, as if it would explode at any moment!
His face instantly turned from ashen to a terrifying purplish-black, his breathing rapid like a broken bellows, each inhalation accompanied by a burning pain in his lungs, each exhalation with a dying gurgle.
The immense mental shock and the extreme physical pain intertwined, assaulting his already overburdened nerves!
"Ugh… glug… pfft—"
Fury's body suddenly stiffened, as if struck by a massive hammer, and he twitched violently.
A mouthful of sweet-smelling blood uncontrollably spurted from his mouth, splattering onto the cold floor, forming a small puddle of dark red.
The crimson light in his eyes suddenly extinguished as if the power had been cut, his pupils instantly dilated and unfocused, the flame of life completely extinguished within them.
His body lost all supporting strength, like a section of rotten wood that had been chopped down, falling straight and heavily forward, hitting the cold, hard ground with a thud.
Vergil's cold gaze swept over the lifeless body on the ground, as if looking at a piece of trash.
The Yamato silently returned to its sheath, emitting an almost inaudible "clink."
He turned, his figure merging into the darkness like a drop of Water, instantly vanishing without a trace.
Madara cast a final indifferent glance at the corpse on the ground, his scarlet Sharingan slowly closing.
A black vortex silently swirled and expanded beside him, and the next second, his figure also completely disappeared from the spot.
Inside the cell, only Fury's corpse remained, lying quietly on the cold ground, a gradually congealing puddle of dark red blood beneath his mouth and nose.
The dim light cast down, making this Death appear especially lonely and cheap.
— — — — — —
Three days later.
"Breaking news from this station," the dignified female anchor on the television screen announced with a formal solemnity, "Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury, who was sentenced to life imprisonment in the Mariana Trench Prison for treason and multiple felonies, was found dead in his solitary cell three days ago by prison authorities. According to preliminary autopsy reports and internal prison surveillance records, Fury's cause of Death was sudden, large-scale myocardial infarction complicated by cerebral hemorrhage… The time of Death was approximately late at night three days ago… There were no signs of external intrusion or struggle at the scene… Experts analyze that his long-term exposure to immense mental stress and psychological burden may have been the primary cause of his sudden Death…"
In a brightly lit lounge at Arbitrators Headquarters.
Coulson stood quietly by the large floor-to-ceiling window, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
Outside the window was the busy, orderly Arbitrators Base, with aircraft silently taking off and landing, and industrial robots busily transporting S.W.O.R.D. data.
The female anchor's voice on the television continued, calmly announcing Fury's end.
Coulson's face showed no emotional fluctuations, but a complex, hard-to-read emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes, finally settling into a silent undercurrent.
He raised his coffee cup, took a sip, and the warm liquid slid down his throat.
Setting the cup down, Coulson's fingers reached for his chest.
Pinned there was an emblem belonging to the now-defunct S.W.O.R.D.. His fingertips paused on the cold metal emblem for a moment, then he pulled it off without hesitation—
Rip!
The emblem was cleanly torn off, the pin on its back scratching faintly against the fabric.
From an inner pocket of his uniform, he pulled out a brand new emblem.
A silver Base, with the Arbitrators' simple yet powerful symbol in the center—a sword in front, and behind it, a ring symbolizing Blue Star, as well as inclusion and connection.
The metal gleamed with a new, resolute luster under the light streaming in from the window.
Click.
Coulson securely and neatly pinned this Arbitrators emblem to its original position on his chest, replacing the empty space.
His movements were fluid, without the slightest hesitation. The old S.W.O.R.D. emblem he had torn off was casually tossed into the nearby trash can, making a slight clinking sound, like the echo of an old era being completely discarded.
He adjusted his collar, turned, and called out in a deep voice towards the door: "Come in."
With a soft click, the heavy door slid open. Light poured in, revealing several familiar faces at the entrance.
Melinda May was the first to step in, her black tactical suit outlining her lean, capable physique. Her gaze was sharp as an eagle's, first sweeping over Coulson's new Arbitrators emblem, then settling on his face with a hint of cold mockery: "Job-hopping champion? Pretty quick, Coulson. How was the price Stark offered? How much did your salary increase?"
The complex solemnity on Coulson's face was instantly replaced by a helpless smile: "May, can't you care about something else? Like the fact that the new boss's benefits are actually quite good?"
"Benefits?" May snorted, walked to the wall, crossed her arms, but her gaze swept across the entire office, habitually assessing the environment, "I only care if the equipment provided is the latest model from Stark Industries."
Following May was Monica Rambeau, dressed in a sharp dark blue uniform, her eyes steady and strong. Seeing the emblem on Coulson's chest, she nodded slightly, everything unspoken.
The scientist duo, Fitz and Simmons, seemed a bit excited and flustered. Fitz pushed up his glasses, his eyes gleaming with curiosity for unknown technology, while Simmons wore a gentle smile, but her eyes also held anticipation for the future.
The last to enter was Mei, Fury's former assistant from S.W.O.R.D., her expression the most complex, with scrutiny and a hint of tension.
"Alright, don't just stand there, find a place to sit." Coulson greeted them, the atmosphere loosening slightly due to Mei's blunt teasing.
He picked up the prepared document from the desk and walked to the center of the office.
"I know everyone has questions," Coulson raised the tablet in his hand, "To be honest, when I received the appointment notification from Tony Stark, I was a bit stunned myself."
He smiled, with a hint of self-mockery, "After all, jumping from a S.W.O.R.D. that was almost dismembered to the core department of the flourishing Arbitrators, that's quite a big step."
His gaze swept over everyone, finally settling on the tablet in his hand.
"However, they offered real money, full of sincerity." He swiped his finger across the screen, and projections of several virtual documents instantly shot out in front of everyone, accurately suspended.
Everyone's eyes were instantly drawn to the projections.
The document titles were concise and cold, yet carried a heavy weight:
Arbitrators Alliance Intelligence Department (A.I.D.) - Core Structure and S-Rank Authority Description
"A.I.D.?" Fitz subconsciously read aloud, his eyes widening, and he snatched the light screen floating in front of him, his fingers rapidly swiping.
"God! Unlimited access permissions?! Including Stark Industries' S-Rank database?! Including Wakanda's Vibranium technology archives?! This… this level of authority…"
Fitz's voice was distorted with excitement.
Simmons also quickly scanned the document, sucking in a cold breath: "Not just… also observation rights for the global defense system? Access to intelligence below SS-Rank from the Watcher Platform? This… this scope of authority…"
Monica Rambeau's expression became extremely serious, and she asked in a deep voice: "Coulson, this authority… is almost equivalent to having the eyes and ears of the entire Planet. Stark… or rather, the Arbitrators Alliance, what exactly do they want us to do?"
Mei also raised her head, her voice calm: "This level of authority probably corresponds to an equivalent level of responsibility, doesn't it?"
Coulson did not answer immediately. He walked to his desk and gently placed the tablet in his hand down.
Click.
With a soft sound, a faint blue light suddenly lit up in the center of the desk!
The light rippled out like water, instantly forming a suspended, slowly rotating three-dimensional holographic projection—it was the silver Arbitrators emblem: a sharp sword in front, an invisible circle symbolizing the protection of the blue Planet behind, emitting a dignified halo.
The light in the entire office seemed to be drawn in by this suspended emblem, and everyone's eyes were firmly fixed on it.
Coulson extended his finger, his fingertip hovering an inch below the tip of the rotating sword, not actually touching it, but as if an invisible force connected them.
He raised his head, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a hawk-like sharpness and a sense of mission as deep as an abyss.
His gaze swept over every old subordinate, every new member, his voice not loud, but clearly striking everyone's eardrums, with a firm tone:
"Do what?"
The Arbitrators emblem below his fingertip seemed to sense his will, its rotation suddenly accelerating, the cold gleam of the sword flashing more dazzlingly.
"From now on, we, A.I.D., are the eyes, ears, and brain of the Arbitrators!"
"We do not participate in the battles on the battlefield, but we must see the enemy's claws reaching out from the shadows!"
"We do not interfere in the internal affairs of other countries, but we must hear any conspiracy threatening the safety of the blue Planet from any corner!"
"We must unravel every mystery, anticipate every crisis, and control the flow of all key information!"
Coulson's voice suddenly rose, resolute:
"Fury's era is over!"
"From today on—"
His fingertip suddenly pressed down, as if imprinting this emblem, symbolizing supreme authority and responsibility, into the void!
"We are the eyes of the World! The light in the darkness will be lit by us!"
— — — — — — — —
Coulson's final words, "The light in the darkness will be lit by us!" were still buzzing in the holographic projection, showing his face, full of a sense of mission, looking like it belonged in a recruitment advertisement.
"Pfft—!!!"
Tony didn't waste a drop of his coffee, spraying it all over the clean desk and the floating screen.
"Cough, cough, cough… Damn it!" He frantically wiped his mouth, his eyes wide as he pointed at the screen, looking as if he'd seen an alien, then turned to the person behind the desk and yelled: "Listen! Chen Tian! Listen! Did I say something wrong back then? Coulson?! That Coulson with the weird smile?! How could he say such… such hot-blooded manga lines?! Has he been possessed by something strange?!"
He gripped the hair at the back of his head, his face full of incredulous absurdity.
Behind the desk, Chen Tian was comfortably nestled in a high-backed chair, his feet propped up on the clean desktop.
A pure black eye mask was loosely wrapped around his face, covering his eyes, but the lower half of his face wore a lazy, roguish smile.
A delicate metal pen twirled deftly between his long fingers, so fast it almost left afterimages, making faint "whoosh whoosh" sounds.
Hearing Tony's shriek, he didn't even move his head, just widened the smile at the corner of his mouth, "Hmm? Not bad. Having drive is a good thing. Saves us worrying, and it's good to give them something to do so they don't get bored and cause trouble."
Tony looked at his sluggish demeanor, rolled his eyes dramatically, "Alright, you're right."
His gaze swept over Chen Tian, then over 2B, who stood quietly behind the side of Chen Tian's chair.
The female android's silver-white short hair was immaculate, her delicate face expressionless, her ice-blue eyes calmly gazing at the air in front of her.
Tony's gaze finally fell on a row of pale blue light screens floating above Chen Tian's desk.
Those light screens displayed complex charts and text, their state very peculiar—they were densely covered with various precise electronic circles, markings, and notes, and even strong, sharp-lined electronic signatures!
Tony narrowed his eyes, then suddenly poked one of the light screens with his finger, "Hey, hey, hey! Chen Tian! Explain yourself clearly! I asked you to be a 'Commander' to handle affairs! Not to dump all the 'Commander's' work on 2B! Look! These annotations! This signature! It's all YoRHa-style data stream font! Do you think I'm blind?!"
He poked hard at a freshly signed, sharply angled electronic signature on the light screen.
Chen Tian's pen-twirling motion smoothly stopped, and he used the pen tip to tap the black eye mask on his face, looking innocent and righteous: "Come on, boss! I'm blind! Really blind! Can't see the light screen! It's perfectly reasonable to have my 2B help me 'read' the content, right? Understand work-related injury benefits?" He even deliberately drew out the words, "Work-related—injury—benefits—"
"Reasonable my ass!" Tony was so angry he almost jumped up and down, pointing at 2B, "'Read' content?! You call this 'reading'?! She directly approved it! Signed it! This is subbing in! This is taking over! This is… this is work-related injury fraud!"
He was a bit incoherent with anger, "Do you think my Friday is just for show? Can't it give you voice output? Do you have to use a combat android to approve official documents?!"
2B's gaze seemed to flick ever so slightly towards Tony, then quickly retracted, maintaining her perfect standby posture, as if she wasn't the one just accused of "usurping power."
Chen Tian chuckled, swaying his feet on the table even more comfortably: "Ah, Mr. Stark, you don't understand this. 2B 'reads' with emotion, is highly efficient, and can also help me analyze pros and cons. Friday? It's too AI, cold and boring, not interesting to listen to. Besides," he fumbled and slid something on the desktop, activating a new floating light screen report, and with a "thwack" pushed its data stream in front of 2B, "2B, come, show the boss what high-efficiency collaborative office work under 'work-related injury benefits' looks like."
"Yes, Master." 2B's cool, steady voice sounded, and she began to browse the light screen in front of her without hesitation.
Her pupils instantly glowed with a rich blue light, and her fingertips rapidly swept through the void, leaving trails of data light.
Line after line of complex text was read out by her clearly, steadily, and without fluctuation, and at the same time, along the trajectory of her fingertips, precise electronic annotations, highlight symbols, and even concise and powerful analytical points next to key paragraphs, instantly generated on the light screen as if by magic!
Tony watched this scene dumbfounded, watching that troublesome report, which he had originally planned to argue about for at least half a day, being processed and annotated at an astonishing speed under 2B's emotionless "reading" and Chen Tian's occasional short commands of "rejected," "add money," and "let them argue with XXXX."
"Efficiency… is really high…" Tony murmured, rubbing his temples, feeling his capitalist bottom line being subjected to unprecedented shock and temptation.
He looked at Chen Tian's smug "see how convenient this is" expression, then at the hyper-efficient 2B, and finally could only wave his hand weakly, resignedly sitting back on the sofa: "Alright, alright… work-related injury benefits… work-related injury benefits… you win! Damn it! Why did I agree to let you sit in the office in the first place?! It's like inviting a wolf into the house! No, it's like inviting a lord back to worship!"
Just then, 2B's cool voice sounded again, interrupting Tony's mumbling: "Master, Mr. Stark, lunch time has arrived. Today's chef recommendation: charcoal-grilled Kobe Wagyu with black truffle sauce, or, braised beef noodle soup with double portions of braised eggs and beef brisket."
The office instantly fell silent.
Tony's complaints were caught in his throat, his expression twisted.
And Chen Tian's roguish smile instantly widened, he loudly sniffed, put his feet down from the table, and excitedly slapped the armrest: "Good! That's the one! Beef noodles! Double braised eggs, double beef brisket! Extra spicy! 2B, let's go!"
He very naturally extended his hand towards 2B.
2B skillfully stepped forward, bent slightly, her arms passing under Chen Tian's armpits and knee bends, performing a standard bridal carry, effortlessly scooping up her hands-off Master.
"Hey! Chen Tian! The report isn't finished yet! You…" Tony called out futilely.
"Food is the first necessity for the people! Tony! Nothing is more important than eating! Work-related injury benefits, understand?" Chen Tian was comfortably held, his head resting on 2B's shoulder, his voice lazily drifting back from the doorway, "I'll come back to 'review' the report during afternoon tea, alright!"
The door slid open silently, then closed silently.
Leaving Tony alone with half a cup of cold coffee and the perfectly annotated, but somehow irritating, light screen report floating on the desk, he fell into deep thought: Should I also create an efficient, intelligent robot to help me review documents?
-----------------------
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