Cloned bodies.
Cloned Cloth.
Hawk thought about what HYDRA might be up to, gave a careless grin, and with a flick of intent drew back the projection of his microcosmos.
But…
Sharon and Tony kept staring straight past him.
They were still lost in the cosmos he'd just shown.
As for Gwen…
This wasn't her first time seeing it.
Still—
remembering the microcosmos Hawk had just projected, Gwen murmured, "Why do I feel like it got bigger?"
The last time Hawk had revealed his microcosmos was up on Kamar-Taj's snowy peak.
But Kamar-Taj had been a long time ago.
Hawk nodded to her. "I still haven't hit the ceiling."
Even after leaning on the Reality Stone, the Four Primal Elements, the Ancient One's Time Stone, and later Tiamut's life force to aid his training,
his microcosmos still hadn't reached the upper limit of a Sixth Sense, Silver-level cosmos.
Though it wasn't far.
Gwen didn't quite follow what ceiling he meant, but seeing how relaxed he looked—no trace of anger—she made sure one last time: "So even if HYDRA really did clone you, there's just no way they could beat you?"
Hawk chuckled.
"Of course."
"Swear it. On Anya's name."
"Alright."
He saw how serious Gwen was and knew exactly what she feared. He swore crisply, "Done. Better?"
Gwen finally smiled.
She could believe Hawk might downplay things so she wouldn't worry—but he would never swear lightly on his sister Anya.
So…
HYDRA's plan to use a cloned Hawk plus a cloned Cloth to defeat or kill Hawk was just a dream.
With Hawk's oath on Anya, Gwen fully let go of the fear.
But peace of mind didn't change a hard fact.
HYDRA was trying to clone Hawk.
With that thought, Gwen's disgust toward HYDRA deepened. She looked to Sharon: "Can we find Dr. Merrick?"
Sharon glanced at Gwen, then—mind returning from Hawk's dazzling cosmos—nodded. "We're still digging. But we can confirm the Rhyolite ghost-town complex wasn't the site for cloning Hawk."
The Rhyolite base had been a cloning facility—but for the Cloth.
Probably because Cloth-cloning was part of the overall Hawk-cloning program, the system there contained "Hawk clone" keywords.
That was how S.H.I.E.L.D. even learned HYDRA was secretly running a cloning plan.
Unfortunately, they still had no lead on where HYDRA was keeping the Hawk-clone lab.
The moment they saw those keywords, they notified Hawk.
They were worried, after all, about HYDRA actually producing a Hawk whose power matched the real one—but aligned with evil.
Right now…
Hawk's answer eased them.
A little.
After speaking, Sharon added, "Once the intel came in, Commander Hand ordered every S.H.I.E.L.D. resource consolidated. We must find Dr. Merrick as fast as possible."
Hawk wasn't afraid of "what if." He was certain HYDRA could never clone his microcosmos along with the body.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was afraid of "what if."
So—
to prevent an evil-aligned Hawk clone, not just S.H.I.E.L.D., but the Security Council itself got spooked and ordered S.H.I.E.L.D. to locate Merrick immediately.
Bottom line:
Hawk wasn't worried.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was.
Gwen nodded at Sharon's update. "Find him fast. This plan is vile."
Hawk told Sharon, "Once you do, call me."
Sharon nodded. "Count on it. You'll be the first to know."
Even if Hawk hadn't asked, they'd have looped him in. This was about him—and open, transparent comms were the best way to avoid any S.H.I.E.L.D.–Hawk friction from misunderstandings.
But—
by the time the spring term of Hawk and Gwen's sophomore year ended, S.H.I.E.L.D. still hadn't found HYDRA's hidden cloning base.
They did, with the Council's "act first, get permission later" waiver, hit multiple HYDRA nests tucked into the corners of various third-world states.
But from all the data J.A.R.V.I.S. scraped and analyzed, those sites had no sign of Merrick—nor even a whiff of the word "clone."
And the captured HYDRA agents—no matter the measures S.H.I.E.L.D. used—when asked about cloning, their frightened eyes turned into the empty, undergrad stare.
Clear and dumb.
They knew nothing about any cloning project.
Still, ignorance didn't stop the hunt. With time ticking, S.H.I.E.L.D. grew increasingly antsy.
If a HYDRA cloning base existed out there, then HYDRA remnants still existed.
And if remnants remained, then the cleanup wasn't done.
So…
Search.
Keep searching.
Even if they had to dig three feet down, they'd drag HYDRA's clone lab into the light.
Compared to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mounting frustration, Hawk didn't care in the slightest. He didn't put HYDRA's "clone Hawk" on his mind at all.
Fake is fake.
A sparrow never turns into a phoenix just by perching higher.
That said…
Seeing Hawk so unbothered—attending classes as usual—helped Sharon, Commander Hand, and Director Hill relax a notch, despite the lack of progress.
The less Hawk cared, the more it supported his claim:
HYDRA's cloning work was useless.
Still…
S.H.I.E.L.D. kept to a weekly check-in—not with Hawk, but with Gwen.
Hawk famously forgot his phone.
Everyone knew: if Hawk was in New York, then finding Gwen meant finding Hawk.
Also common knowledge.
And so—
on day one of winter break,
Hawk sat on the living room couch, rubbing antifreeze onto the cast of his left arm, when Gwen came downstairs with the phone.
She was about to tell him S.H.I.E.L.D. had hit another HYDRA site the previous week—still no cloning leads—when she saw what he was doing and her brow twitched.
"What are you doing?"
"It's cold out. The cast is cracking. I figured I'd condition it with some antifreeze."
Hawk didn't look up.
Gwen's mouth twitched. She jogged a few steps and snatched the bottle from his hand.
Hawk looked up. "Hey, my antifreeze."
"Today is day one-oh-one. I told you last night—the hundred days are over. You can take that thing off."
"Uh…"
He looked at his left arm, then up at Gwen, face full of reluctance.
"Can we extend another hundred days?"
"No!"
Only God knew how many times in the past hundred days she'd regretted the whole scheme.
It was finally over.
Extend?
Ha.
Keep dreaming.
Gwen shut it down, carrying the bottle toward the garage. "And don't forget—we're going to Grandpa's tomorrow. You really want to show up with a cast and sling?"
Hawk blinked; right, that was tomorrow.
But…
what did that have to do with the cast?
He tried anyway. "Why not?"
From the garage, Gwen didn't look back as she opened the door. "My grandpa's old white."
As the words fell,
Hawk went very quiet.
Gwen set the antifreeze back in the garage, came inside—and stopped at the sight of a live magic trick:
One second earlier he'd been in a T-shirt and shorts with a sling. Now he wore a burnt-orange leather duster, tight denim, tall riding boots, and a cowboy hat.
He slid his left hand from his pocket, flicked the brim, tipped his chin at her, and arched a brow. "How about it?"
If he smoked and had time to light one, it'd complete the picture.
Gwen stared at the man who'd just spent a hundred days roleplaying "injured" and was now roleplaying "cowboy," her mouth twitching wildly.
"Where did you even get that outfit?"
"The store. I've had it stashed in the safe room in the basement."
Hawk grinned. "Was gonna surprise you. Surprised?"
Gwen's expression froze for a beat.
Then it bloomed into a smile.
A broader smile.
"Hawk!"
"Yeah?"
"You look great. Let's go."
"Go where?"
"I can't wait to show Mom your outfit—and hear her gush."
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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