Washington, D.C., USA: The electronic access control system in the director's office of S.H.I.E.L.D. emitted a ghostly blue glow.
Nick Fury stared at the global threat assessment report on the holographic projection screen with his single eye, his right hand tapping rhythmically on the table.
Just then, the access control system beeped softly. After the iris scan confirmed the visitor's identity, the alloy door slid open without a sound.
"Sir."
Phil Coulson strode in, impeccably dressed in a suit, his hair thinning, a data tablet in hand, his expression unusually tense.
Without looking up, Nick Fury asked flatly,
"Speak. What is it?"
"Emergency report from the New Mexico bureau—Priority A-3."
Coulson placed the tablet on the table and swiped his finger across its surface. The holographic projection instantly switched to a satellite monitoring data stream.
"At 9:47 p.m. last night, the Socorro Near-Earth Orbit Warning System in New Mexico detected a high-density object entering the atmosphere. Initially classified as a meteorite, subsequent data revealed anomalies."
Nick Fury finally raised his head, his lone eye narrowing slightly.
In the projection, a brilliant white streak slashed across the New Mexico night sky, accompanied by spectral analysis overlays.
"Go on."
"According to NASA's Near-Earth Object Monitoring Network, the object had a mass of approximately 19 kilograms upon atmospheric entry—but it showed no ablation or mass loss during descent."
Coulson pulled up a comparison graphic and continued,
"Ordinary meteorites lose about 30% of their mass due to atmospheric friction around 80 kilometers altitude. This one? None. Zero."
He gestured to the two perfectly parallel mass curves—one expected, one observed.
Nick Fury stood and approached the projector.
Thermal imaging revealed no detectable heat signature within a five-kilometer radius of the impact point. Even more perplexing, geological scans showed no crater: the surface vegetation at the predicted 15-meter-diameter impact zone remained completely undisturbed.
"Results of the on-site investigation?"
"The rapid response team reached the coordinates three hours ago."
Coulson displayed images of agents in protective suits scanning the desert, then added helplessly,
"No impact debris, no magnetic anomalies—not even the faintest space-time distortion readings."
A brief silence settled over the office, broken only by the low hum of the holographic projector.
"What did the observatory say?"
"'Blue Book Protocol' has been activated. All observational data has been routed to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure servers. The public cover story cites sensor error—misidentified space debris."
Coulson pulled up the processing log and replied briskly.
Nick Fury walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the Washington Monument reflected cold sunlight.
Suddenly, he turned, jabbed a finger at a blank spot on the satellite image, and issued his order:
"Assemble a Level-7-or-above research team. Equip them with a quantum resonance scanner and a gamma-ray spectrometer. I want to know exactly what can fool twelve global monitoring networks."
Coulson nodded, then added carefully,
"Sir, the signal strength in New Mexico far exceeds that of any typical meteorite event. I'll need more reliable field support."
Upon hearing Coulson's request, Nick Fury frowned and said,
"Huh? Your tactical team is already the best in the department. Don't tell me you can't even seal off the scene."
"It's not a lockdown issue."
Coulson opened the folder, his gaze falling on Sitwell's file, and replied,
"The unusual falling object exhibited an unknown energy reaction. The Special Operations Team's equipment is more compatible, and Sitwell's team has handled similar energy anomaly events before. I need him to be in charge of on-site security and equipment debugging."
The reason was perfectly valid, and Nick Fury couldn't directly refuse. He softened his tone and said,
"Hmm… Sitwell is currently investigating a nuclear materials smuggling case in Eastern Europe. Are you sure it has to be him?"
Upon hearing this, Coulson said firmly,
"I'm absolutely certain. His team's emergency response procedures for unknown energies are the optimal solution."
After another brief silence, Nick Fury's voice rang out again:
"Have him transfer the Eastern European case to Brett and report to you in an hour."
One hour later…
S.H.I.E.L.D. Trident Headquarters, underground hangar.
At this moment, the noise here was even louder than usual. The engines of the Quinjet fighter jets roared deafeningly as they warmed up; the hydraulic systems of the robotic arms hummed rhythmically; and short commands crackled constantly through the agents' walkie-talkies.
Coulson stood beside the fighter jet's gangway, his fingertips swiping rapidly across a tablet. The screen scrolled through satellite images and geological data of New Mexico.
The hem of his black suit jacket fluttered slightly in the Quinjet's exhaust draft. Without looking up, he shouted,
"Agent Sitwell, has the calibration data from the energy detector been transmitted?"
"Final verification in progress, Agent Coulson."
Sitwell's voice came from the equipment area. He was bending over to check the lock on a silver metal case, his dark blue bespoke suit gleaming coldly under the hangar lights.
Several Special Operations Team members surrounded him, deftly carrying the portable energy barrier generator into the fighter jet's cargo hold and minimizing the clanging of the metal equipment.
On the other side of the hangar, the technical team's agents were racing against time to debug the equipment.
"Coulson."
Nick Fury appeared at the hangar entrance, his one-eyed gaze sweeping over the bustling scene. "The Special Operations Team has completed weapons authorization, and your flight route application has just cleared the North American Air Defense Identification Zone."
He handed Coulson an encrypted USB drive, adding,
"This is the latest geological fault map. Three abnormal magnetic field fluctuations were observed within fifty kilometers of the fallen object."
Coulson took the USB drive, inserted it into the terminal, and a red magnetic field strength curve immediately appeared on the screen. He looked up at Nick Fury and said,
"Understood, sir. We expect to arrive over the target area in two hours, conduct low-altitude scanning and reconnaissance first, and then establish a temporary base."
"Be safe."
Nick Fury nodded, then turned and walked toward the command center. The sound of his military boots striking the metal floor was quickly swallowed by the background noise.
Sitwell then walked over, holding an electronic checklist, and said to Coulson,
"All equipment has been inventoried. The energy detectors, portable laboratory modules, and tactical teams are all in place."
He paused, then added,
"The Special Operations Team has completed its tactical briefing and confirmed that the area where the object may have crashed is mostly desert. We'll coordinate with local law enforcement to secure the perimeter in advance."
Coulson nodded, climbed the gangway, then gestured toward the cockpit and shouted,
"Let's go!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Quinjet's landing gear emitted a soft hydraulic hiss, and the fuselage slowly lifted off.
Coulson lo
oked down through the porthole and saw the lights of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters gradually dim—soon swallowed by the night.
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