The SHIELD agent sitting across from Luke had the kind of smile that made you want to trust him immediately.
Which was exactly why Luke didn't.
Phil Coulson radiated "friendly government employee"—the warm expression, the slightly rumpled suit, the self-deprecating humor. It was a carefully constructed persona, refined through years of fieldwork. The kind of mask that made sources relax, that convinced targets to share secrets they'd normally guard with their lives.
Luke had seen enough spy movies to recognize the technique. Coulson wasn't just a bureaucrat following up on paperwork. He was one of SHIELD's best—a man who'd probably extracted confessions from hardened criminals just by offering them coffee and asking about their day.
"So," Coulson began, his tone conversational, "about last night's incident—"
Luke decided to cut straight to the point. No sense letting the agent control the conversation's pace.
"You mean when we were surrounded by vampires, subjected to heavy weapons fire, and forced to defend ourselves in what was clearly a life-or-death situation?" The words came out rapid-fire, aggressive. "The situation where we were the victims of an unprovoked attack by supernatural creatures operating within US borders?"
Coulson's pleasant expression didn't waver, but Luke caught the slight pause—the momentary recalculation happening behind those mild eyes.
Good, Luke thought. Let him adjust his approach.
The truth was, if not for the extraordinary combat capabilities Luke and his companions had displayed, SHIELD wouldn't have bothered investigating at all. Vampire affairs were technically outside their jurisdiction—and for good reason.
The US government received substantial tax revenue from the vampire nation every year. Billions of dollars flowing into federal coffers, paid in exchange for official non-interference. It was an open secret among certain intelligence circles, and a closely guarded one everywhere else.
Nobody wanted to rock that particular boat. Not when the checks kept clearing.
But three unknowns had crashed a vampire operation and walked away without a scratch. That kind of capability drew attention, regardless of jurisdictional niceties.
"Fair enough," Coulson conceded, adjusting his approach with practiced ease. "Let me rephrase. Who exactly are you people?"
That was the real question, wasn't it?
Luke leaned back in his chair, studying the agent. Behind Coulson, through the apartment's grimy window, he could see the SHIELD backup team trying to look inconspicuous on the street below. Black SUVs. Tactical gear barely hidden under civilian jackets. The whole nine yards.
They weren't even trying to be subtle. Or maybe they were, and SHIELD's idea of "subtle" was just that bad.
"Who do you think we are?" Luke kept his voice neutral, giving nothing away.
Coulson's smile turned slightly rueful. "Honestly? I have no idea. And that's what concerns my superiors."
He pulled out a tablet, swiping through screens that Luke couldn't see from his angle.
"You have no names on file. No information anywhere. We searched every database in Asia based on your appearances—facial recognition, biometric markers, travel records. Nothing." Coulson looked up, his friendly demeanor unchanged but his eyes suddenly sharp. "It's as if you didn't exist before a few months ago."
Luke said nothing, waiting.
"So I have to ask." Coulson's voice was still pleasant, still conversational, but there was steel underneath now. "Are you extraterrestrial?"
It was actually a reasonable hypothesis, Luke had to admit. Someone who left no traces in any earthly system might not be from Earth at all. SHIELD dealt with alien incursions on a semi-regular basis—or at least, Nick Fury's classified files did. The average SHIELD agent probably thought aliens were science fiction.
Coulson, clearly, was not an average agent.
"No traces means alien?" Luke allowed a hint of amusement into his voice. "You're a spy, Agent Coulson. You know there are plenty of ways to stay off the radar. Fabricated identities. Sealed records. Countries that don't share data with American agencies."
"True." Coulson nodded agreeably. "But those methods shouldn't fool SHIELD. We have... extensive resources. Unless..."
He trailed off, the unfinished thought hanging in the air like bait.
Unless you have resources that exceed ours, was the implication. Unless you represent something bigger than we realized.
Luke saw his opening.
Time to plant the seed.
He'd been thinking about this moment since Coulson first knocked on the door. SHIELD was going to investigate regardless—that much was inevitable. The question was how to shape their investigation. How to make them cautious instead of aggressive.
The answer, Luke had decided, was fear.
Not the kind of fear that made people attack. The kind that made them step carefully, second-guess themselves, wonder if they were poking something that might bite back.
"We've been watching SHIELD for years," Luke said, letting the words hang in the air like a pronouncement. "Everything you've done. Every operation, every classified project, every skeleton in every closet."
Coulson's expression flickered—the first crack in his pleasant facade.
"Including the Kree invasion."
The name landed like a bomb.
Coulson went still. Not the calculated stillness of a trained operative—the genuine stillness of someone who'd just heard something impossible.
"If Carol Danvers hadn't handled it," Luke continued, pressing his advantage, "we would have intervened ourselves. Earth would not have fallen."
"What?"
The confusion in Coulson's voice was genuine. He clearly had no idea what Luke was talking about.
Perfect.
That was the whole point. The Kree incident and Carol Danvers were classified at the highest level—information that Fury kept locked away from everyone, including his most trusted agents. By casually dropping those names, Luke was implying access to secrets that shouldn't exist outside of Fury's personal vault.
It suggested a mysterious organization operating in the shadows. One powerful enough to have monitored Earth's defenses for decades. One that had been prepared to fight an alien invasion if necessary.
All of it was complete bullshit, of course. Luke only knew because he'd watched the movies. Captain Marvel. The post-credits scenes. The interconnected web of MCU lore that any dedicated fan could recite from memory.
But Fury didn't know that.
"Take that message back to your director," Luke said, maintaining his composure despite the adrenaline surging through his veins. "He'll understand what it means."
Coulson stared at him for a long moment, clearly trying to process what he'd just heard. The friendly mask had slipped completely now, replaced by the calculating focus of a veteran intelligence operative.
"You know our director?" The suspicion in his voice was almost palpable.
"Nick Fury." Luke let the name sit there, heavy with implication. "One eye. Black coat. Trust issues that make clinical paranoids look well-adjusted."
Another hit. Coulson's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"I see." He straightened his tie—a nervous gesture, Luke noted, poorly disguised as casual adjustment. "This is clearly above my clearance level. I'll need to report back before we can continue."
"You do that."
Coulson stood, tucking away his tablet. His movements were controlled, professional, but Luke could read the tension in his shoulders. The agent had come here expecting a routine interview—maybe some enhanced individuals, maybe some vigilantes with interesting toys. Instead, he'd stumbled into something that touched the deepest secrets of his organization.
"This conversation is concluded for now. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr...?"
"Luke."
"Very well, Mr. Luke." Coulson's smile was back, but it didn't reach his eyes anymore. "We may return for further discussion. I hope you'll be welcoming when that happens."
"That depends entirely on your attitude."
Luke walked him to the door, maintaining his confident facade until the agent and his backup team had departed. He watched through the window as the black SUVs pulled away, waiting until they'd turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
Then he let out a long breath.
That was either brilliant or catastrophically stupid.
He couldn't relax. Not yet. Coulson might have planted bugs or surveillance devices during the visit—the man was a professional, and professionals took every opportunity. The apartment would need to be swept.
More concerning: how many of those SHIELD agents outside had actually been HYDRA? The organization had infiltrated every level of SHIELD's hierarchy. They'd definitely be making moves soon.
Luke might receive a very different kind of "visit" tonight. One that involved fewer questions and more bullets.
He'd have to stay alert.
SHIELD Headquarters. The Triskelion.
Nick Fury stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, staring out at the Potomac River. The afternoon sun glittered off the water, peaceful and serene—a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his mind.
His black eyepatch covered the eye he'd lost to a Kree ambush, years ago. His black turtleneck and leather coat had become practically a uniform, the kind of stereotypical spy aesthetic that he'd long since stopped caring about.
The AC in his office hummed steadily, keeping the room cold enough that most visitors shivered. Fury liked it that way. Discomfort kept people off-balance.
"Any progress on the Stark situation?"
The question was directed at nobody in particular. Fury often talked to himself when processing problems—a habit that his subordinates had learned not to comment on.
Tony Stark's disappearance was already giving him ulcers. The heir to Stark Industries, the most valuable defense contractor in the Western world, had vanished somewhere in the Afghan mountains. Military search teams were finding nothing. Meanwhile, Obadiah Stane was making increasingly suspicious moves at the company, consolidating power like a man who didn't expect his boss to come back.
A headache wrapped in a migraine wrapped in a full-blown national security crisis.
A knock at the door interrupted his brooding.
"Enter."
Phil Coulson walked in, his expression carefully neutral. But Fury had known the man for years—long enough to recognize the signs of carefully controlled alarm.
This isn't about Stark, Fury realized immediately. Something else happened.
Coulson stopped at precisely the right distance from the desk—close enough for conversation, far enough to show respect. The man's instincts were impeccable.
Fury had been about to assign him to the Stark case. He needed someone competent on it, someone who could navigate the corporate politics and military bureaucracy while also investigating Stane's activities.
But then Coulson started talking.
He reported everything. The apartment visit. The cramped living space that somehow housed three people with no recorded identities. The two women with superhuman capabilities—one who'd nearly crushed him with a sword's weight, another who'd watched with the serene indifference of a predator observing prey it didn't consider worth hunting.
And the conversation with Luke.
Word for word. Every impossible claim. Every classified reference that shouldn't have been possible.
When Coulson finished, Fury was silent for a long moment.
"He actually said those things? The Kree invasion? Carol Danvers by name?"
"Yes, sir. Verbatim."
Fury turned away from the window, his single eye fixed on something far beyond the office walls. His mind was racing, calculating probabilities, assessing threats.
He'd been worried about Tony Stark. A legitimate concern—Stark's technology in the wrong hands could destabilize entire regions.
But this? This was something else entirely.
How did this "Luke" know about the Kree?
That incident was buried deep. Classified beyond classified, locked in files that even Fury sometimes forgot existed. Alexander Pierce—the Secretary of the World Security Council, Fury's nominal superior—didn't have clearance for those records.
Neither did Coulson. Neither did anyone in this building except Fury himself.
And yet this stranger had dropped Carol Danvers's name like it was common knowledge. Like he'd been there.
"We've been watching SHIELD for years. Including the Kree invasion. If Carol Danvers hadn't handled it, we would have stepped in."
Fury turned the words over in his mind, analyzing every possible interpretation.
The implications were staggering.
Luke was claiming to represent some kind of organization. One that had been monitoring Earth's defenses for years—possibly decades. One with enough power and confidence that they'd considered intervening against an alien invasion fleet.
One that knew secrets Fury had never shared with anyone.
Who the hell are these people?
And more importantly: how much do they actually know?
Fury reached for the classified filing cabinet behind his desk, his hand hesitating over the lock.
Inside was a pager. Modified, untraceable, connected to a single recipient somewhere in the vastness of space. His emergency line to Carol Danvers herself.
He'd promised only to use it if Earth faced a threat beyond his ability to handle.
Was this that moment?
His fingers brushed the cabinet's surface, then withdrew.
Not yet, he decided. Not until I know more.
But the pager stayed in his thoughts, a reminder that some situations couldn't be handled with conventional resources.
"Sir?" Coulson's voice pulled him back to the present. "What are your orders?"
Fury was quiet for a moment longer. Then he turned back to his most trusted agent, his expression carved from stone.
"Classification level on this conversation: Level 10. My eyes only."
Coulson nodded, unsurprised. "Understood."
"And Coulson?"
"Sir?"
"Forget about your vacation. You're finding Tony Stark."
The Stark situation was still important. But now it was also a convenient excuse to keep Coulson busy while Fury dealt with this new mystery personally.
Because if Luke's organization was real—if there really was a shadow power that had been watching Earth for decades, preparing to defend it against threats from the stars—then Nick Fury needed to know everything about them.
Before they decided that SHIELD itself was a threat worth eliminating.
PLZ THROW POWERSTONES.
300 , 500 , 1000 for each milestone 1 Bonus Chapter.