Nick Fury's expression shifted ever so slightly, but Nolan caught it. That flicker of unease was all the confirmation he needed.
Nolan leaned back on the sofa, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Since meeting Tony Stark, there was one kind of person he had come to despise the most: the self-righteous show-off.
And in Nolan's eyes, Nick Fury was even worse than Stark.
Tony's arrogance was often unconscious, a byproduct of his genius and flamboyant nature. But Fury? Fury carried it deliberately, wielding it like a weapon. He strutted through conversations with an aura of superiority, as if the entire world were a chessboard and everyone else his pieces.
"Who the hell do you think keeps indulging you?" Nolan thought with disdain.
He didn't bother sparing Fury another glance. Instead, he sank deeper into the sofa, one leg casually crossed over the other, radiating calm control.
Fury, meanwhile, glanced at the Terminators stationed around the room. Their gleaming metallic frames reflected the dim light, their eyes glowing with cold hostility. He dared not move recklessly. One wrong twitch, and he couldn't be sure if their weapons would fire on instinct.
For the first time in years, the seasoned spymaster felt a flicker of regret. He had walked into Nolan's den too casually. A man in his position should have been more cautious. This misstep was unlike him, and he knew it.
Gathering himself, Fury spoke in his steady, authoritative tone.
"Nolan Lock, I came here today to discuss the battle in Harlem."
Nolan turned his gaze on him, his voice calm yet edged with warning.
"Director Fury, perhaps you don't realize this, but I hate uninvited guests the most. Not long ago, another man barged into my home thinking his strength would be enough to kill me. His corpse is now fertilizer."
Fury studied Nolan's face, trying to judge if he was bluffing. Given what he already knew of Nolan's ruthlessness, he decided the story was entirely plausible.
Explaining himself would be meaningless. Nolan wasn't a fool. So Fury got straight to the point.
"The Hulk and the Abomination you saw those were just one example of the supernatural crises our world is facing. And they're only growing in number. In recent years, the frequency and scale of such threats, even extraterrestrial ones, have risen to an unprecedented peak."
He paused, his one eye gleaming with determination.
"To face them, I've decided to assemble a team. Not soldiers. Not spies. True superheroes. An organization created solely to protect this world."
At last, he spoke the name.
"The Avengers."
He expected Nolan to react. Shock, hesitation, perhaps even curiosity. But instead, what he caught in Nolan's eyes was something far more unnerving: ridicule.
"Avengers?" Nolan chuckled softly, the sound tinged with mockery. "Forgive me, Director, but I don't trust any government-backed organization that claims to stand above the law."
Fury's expression faltered for just a moment.
Damn it.
Inside, he cursed himself. This was exactly what he had feared. Coming here had been a mistake. If he had gone to Stark first, the conversation might have been smoother. Tony, for all his arrogance, at least had a soft spot for the idea of legacy and glory. He could be persuaded.
But Nolan Lock? He was harder to bend than steel.
Still, Fury didn't give up entirely. His voice remained even as he glanced at the surrounding machines.
"The Avengers aren't a government branch. They exist only to counter threats beyond human control. You don't have to join now. But the door will always remain open for you."
He gave a subtle gesture, signaling that he was done.
Nolan's lips curved faintly. "Red Queen, release crisis control mode."
Instantly, the Terminators disengaged. Their weapons lowered, their formation parted, leaving Fury a clear path to the exit.
Fury rose with all the dignity he could muster, walking toward the door without breaking stride. But once outside, his steps quickened, almost betraying his relief.
That had not gone according to plan. Not at all.
Still, he reassured himself, it wasn't over. Tomorrow, he would approach Tony Stark. Stark would listen. Stark had to.
Back in the villa, Nolan watched Fury leave and snorted.
"What a sly old fox. Best to keep my distance."
He knew men like Fury too well. Cold, calculating, devoid of personal attachment. For them, morality was negotiable, and people were pawns. Such men would use any means necessary to reach their ends.
Fury was the perfect spymaster. But for that very reason, Nolan found him intolerable.
Deciding not to dwell further, he picked up his phone and dialed Tony Stark. A plan was already forming.
The next night, Fury arrived at Stark's mansion fully prepared. But when he stepped inside, the vast villa was silent, empty. Not a trace of its owner.
His lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Negotiations, in his world, were about seizing the initiative. And the best way to hold the upper hand was simple: control the ground before your opponent even arrived.
He lifted a communicator. "Begin."
Within seconds, the villa's power grid shut down. Backup generators whirred to life, but they too were cut. The house fell into suffocating darkness.
A high-grade signal jammer activated next, cutting all outside contact.
Only then did Fury move. The shadows welcomed him like an old friend as he slipped inside, silent and precise.
Finding a chair, he sat calmly and checked his watch. By his calculations, Stark would be home in ten minutes.
Everything was perfect.
Or so he thought.
Elsewhere, at Stark Industries, Tony was with Natasha Romanoff. He gave her a long, serious look.
"Tell me, Natasha. Do you think we could ever be… more than just colleagues?" His tone was unusually solemn.
She frowned. This wasn't right. Tony was a flirt, yes, but never this direct, never this heavy. Something was off.
"You know," Tony added casually, "if the answer's no, I may have to let you go."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. This was strange. And it grew stranger when Tony made no move to return home, despite the hour.
In truth, Tony already knew the game being played. Nolan Lock had warned him about Fury. Without that, he might have walked straight into the trap tonight.
Instead, he had checked J.A.R.V.I.S.'s subsystems before leaving. Just as expected, his villa's network had gone dark.
So Tony made a decision. He wouldn't just stay away he would keep Natasha close too, denying her any chance to tip off Fury.
Back at the mansion, Fury sat waiting. Minutes ticked by. His confidence gave way to irritation. Then, slowly, to realization. Stark wasn't coming.
"Damn it!" Fury clenched his fists.
First Nolan. Now Stark. Both had slipped from his control.
Fine. If the subtle approach didn't work, he would escalate. He was Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He still had cards to play.
The next day, after confirming the situation with Natasha, Fury went directly to Stark in person.
"Tony Stark. I am "
"Director Nick Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony interrupted smoothly, his face calm, almost bored. "Yes, I know exactly who you are."
Something was wrong. Fury felt it immediately. Stark's body language screamed arrogance. From the tilt of his head to the curl of his lip, he radiated disdain.
Fury was used to difficult men. But this one treated him as if he were beneath notice.
Steeling himself, Fury explained the Avengers Initiative. As expected, Stark dismissed it with a shrug, clearly unimpressed.
But Fury had anticipated this. His eye glinted with cold confidence as he delivered the killing line.
"That arc reactor in your chest saved your life. But if I'm not mistaken, it's also killing you. And time isn't on your side."
Still, Stark's expression didn't flicker. That unsettled Fury.
He pressed on anyway.
"Years ago, your father left behind something for you. A blueprint of a future city. He entrusted it to me, to deliver to you when the time was right. Howard Stark was a true visionary, a genius limited only by his era. But now, it's time. Within those plans may lie the solution to your problem."
His voice brimmed with certainty. For once, he thought he had the upper hand.
But then Stark tapped the table lightly. A holographic projection lit up the room, displaying a detailed model of a futuristic cityscape.
"You mean this?"
Fury froze.
Tony's face darkened, his eyes sharp with fury. Fury knew about the Future City project something only his father had left him. And worse, Fury had kept it hidden all this time, pretending to be his father's trusted friend.
Tony's hands clenched. In that moment, he hated Fury more than ever.
Fury, however, could only stare at the hologram, shock running through him.
Damn it. How did Stark know about the Future City Project?
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