Fury moved first.
He didn't look at anyone. Walking straight to the corner, he pulled out the satellite phone—the brick-like black device. His back was rigid, like a steel bar drawn tight.
"It's me," he said quietly, but the command in his voice cut through the air. "Initiate Beacon Protocol. Highest priority. Clear Flight Corridor B-7. All airspace. Yes—all of it."
He didn't explain why. He didn't need to. The person on the other end existed only to execute.
Levi ignored him. He walked over to Maria and Monica and crouched down in front of the little girl, softening his voice.
"Monica, that office among the stars—are you sure you saw it on a computer?"
Monica nodded hard, her big eyes full of seriousness, not fear.
"Mm-hmm! On the biggest computer in Auntie Lawson's office! She even let me play Minesweeper."
"Good." Levi smiled and ruffled her hair. "You helped a lot."
Carol leaned against the wall, her face still pale. She looked at the one-eyed man issuing orders, then at the exhausted Skrull general on the couch. Finally, her gaze settled on Levi.
Everything had fallen apart. She had been fooled for six years.
"I…" She tried to speak, but her throat felt clogged with sand.
"Say it after we get what we came for," Levi said, standing up and cutting her off. "Right now, it's time to move. Mr. Fury has already called our ride."
Fury finished his call and turned back. He glanced at Talos, then at Carol, and finally at Levi.
"Helicopter arrives in fifteen minutes. One and a half hours to the old Pegasus base. Perimeter is cleared, but internal systems are still live—biometric locks and encryption. We'll need to crack them on site."
His tone was calm, as if he hadn't nearly drawn his gun earlier. Only he knew that when dealing with Levi, every muscle in his body had to stay tense to avoid showing weakness.
"No need to crack anything," Levi said. "We have the key."
He pointed at Monica.
Fury's single eye lingered on the girl for two seconds, confusion flashing through it. But he didn't ask. He had already learned—never apply common sense to Levi.
Fifteen minutes later, the thunder of rotor blades rolled in from afar. A matte-black Black Hawk helicopter, completely unmarked, hovered steadily over the open ground outside. The cabin door slid open, and Phil Coulson leaned out, waving them over.
"Talos, you stay here," Levi said to the Skrull general. "Keep your people in the ship. Don't move. Mr. Fury, I assume your people would be more than happy to help 'look after' such a precious alien craft?"
Fury's mouth twitched. He said nothing. This was exactly what he wanted—a living Skrull general and an intact ship. A gold mine of intelligence.
Talos hesitated, glancing at Levi. The look he received left no room for negotiation. In the end, he nodded. He had no leverage.
"Maria, you and Monica are coming too," Levi added.
"Us?" Maria froze.
"Monica is the key. She has to be there. You go with her," Levi said simply.
In the end, the ones who boarded the helicopter were Levi, Carol, Maria, Monica, and—representing S.H.I.E.L.D.—Fury and Coulson.
The helicopter lifted off, heading deep into the desert.
No one spoke inside the cabin.
Carol leaned against the window, watching the landscape race by below. Trees, houses, roads—all shrinking into small blocks of color. She had looked down on planets from the sky countless times before, but always on missions. Targets. Threats. Extraction routes.
This was the first time she was simply looking at a world.
The world she had been born on. The world taken from her.
Memories flickered like a damaged tape—sunlight, grass, a woman's smile. Lawson. Her chest tightened again.
Fury sat with his arms crossed, eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping. His mind was racing.
Levi—codename Ghost. Ability assessment: unknown. Threat level: maximum.
This man wasn't a chess piece. He was the board itself.
He could rewrite rules at will. Compared to him, the Avengers Initiative felt like a joke.
But the opportunity was right here—Skrulls, light-speed engine tech, Carol. Stepping stones toward the stars.
The risk was enormous. So was the payoff.
He had to gamble.
Coulson sat between them, feeling like a mortal who had wandered into a battle between gods. He stole a glance at Levi. The man was leaning back with his eyes closed, as if truly asleep.
Yet Coulson felt certain—sleeping or awake, Levi was still the most dangerous person on board.
An hour and a half later, the helicopter touched down in the desert.
In the distance, a massive concrete complex lay half-buried in sand, like a stranded steel beast. The old Pegasus Project base—once home to humanity's highest secrets, now nearly abandoned.
Several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents waited at the entrance. When they saw Fury, they snapped to attention, then stole nervous, curious glances at Carol and Levi. Their orders had been to clear the site—no one had told them who was coming.
"Sir, physical barriers are disengaged," a tech reported. "But the central system still has independent biometric encryption and passcodes."
"Take us to Dr. Lawson's office," Fury said.
The corridor was long, bathed in cold metallic light. Dust hung in the air, mixed with the smell of old machinery. Emergency lights flickered, stretching their shadows across the walls.
Carol walked unsteadily.
She remembered this place.
Arguing with Lawson over engine parameters. Lawson telling her she was too stubborn. Drinking terrible instant coffee in the break room—Lawson always added two sugar cubes.
These small, ordinary memories—Carol Danvers' memories—came flooding back, making her ache with both familiarity and pain.
They stopped before a heavy metal door.
Dr. Mar-Vell – Chief Research Lab
"This is it," Carol whispered.
Coulson and two techs moved to the control panel. Code streamed across the screen.
"Negative, sir," the tech said a few minutes later, sweating. "Triple encryption. Our programs need at least three hours."
Fury frowned.
"Move."
Levi stepped forward.
He didn't look at the panel. He placed his hand directly on the metal door.
Hummm.
A low, dull vibration.
From the outside, nothing changed. Inside the lock, however, gears and pins made of special alloys began to groan—twisted, crushed, forcibly reorganized by an unseen force.
Click.
The door opened.
Less than three seconds.
The two techs stared, mouths agape. Ten years of education felt like it had just been stomped into the dirt.
Fury's eyelid twitched. He said nothing, only gestured for everyone to move in.
Dust-laden air greeted them. The office was large, filled with equipment now outdated, frozen exactly as it had been six years ago.
"That one!" Monica broke free from her mother and ran to the corner, pointing at an old computer with a massive spherical display.
Coulson rushed over and hooked up equipment.
The computer powered on, displaying a password prompt.
Three failed attempts will permanently lock and erase all data.
"Damn it," Coulson muttered.
Everyone held their breath.
"Monica," Carol knelt, her voice gentle, "do you remember how Auntie Lawson opened it? Anything special she did?"
Monica tilted her head, thinking hard.
"I… don't remember the password. But…" She frowned. "She always touched the winged horse on the desk first."
All eyes turned to the desk.
A half-worn wooden Pegasus figurine sat on the corner.
Coulson picked it up, inspecting it for hidden switches.
"Not like that," Monica shook her head. "She just… touched it."
Levi walked over. He glanced at the figurine, then at the screen.
"Your turn," he said to Monica.
He lifted her onto the chair.
"Just like you remember."
Monica nodded. She gently touched the Pegasus's wing, then hesitated before pecking three letters on the keyboard.
S-K-Y.
She pressed Enter.
The password box vanished, replaced by a deep starfield.
Success.
Coulson and his team barely restrained their cheers. Carol hugged Monica and kissed her forehead.
Fury watched, conflicted. The best tech, the best agents—defeated. A child's memory had solved it.
Inside the system, Coulson found a heavily encrypted folder labeled Home.
More frantic attempts. More failure.
Levi remained silent, watching. He knew the final key was still Monica.
"Monica," Carol asked softly, "do you remember anything else?"
Monica's eyes lit up.
"Yes! Auntie Lawson sang when she opened it!"
"…Sang?" Coulson stared at Fury in disbelief.
Fury's face darkened.
"Voiceprint," Levi said calmly. "Let her sing."
Monica cleared her throat and sang softly into the mic, slightly off-key:
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star…"
The moment the first line left her lips, the Home folder opened.
Inside—one file.
Coordinates.
A long string of symbols pointing to a location deep in space.
They had found it.
Fury's eyes shone. He grabbed his satellite phone immediately.
"Get me Quonset Point. Activate the Quinjet prototype. I don't care what test phase it's in—fuel it up and have it in the hangar within an hour."
He hung up and looked at Levi. He knew what came next wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D.'s show.
"Good," Levi said. "Coulson, take Maria and Monica back to the helicopter. Things are about to get lively."
They obeyed.
Only Levi, Carol, and Fury remained.
"You have your coordinates," Fury said. "Your aircraft is ready. What's the next step?"
"My plan?" Levi smiled. "I don't have one. I'm just an audience member. She's the protagonist."
He pointed at Carol.
Carol inhaled deeply, resolve hardening in her eyes.
"I'm going up. I'll find the lab—and then I'm settling accounts with the Kree."
"Good," Fury nodded, then looked at Levi. "You're coming?"
"Of course," Levi replied. "Someone has to make sure she doesn't tear the lab apart. And Talos is coming too—he needs to verify the coordinates."
Fury frowned.
"A Skrull aboard our most advanced aircraft?"
"Problem?" Levi countered. "Director Fury, understand this—you're not the one setting conditions. You're providing the venue. Besides, aren't you curious how Skrulls react to humanity's best tech?"
Fury had no retort.
"…Fine. Ground command stays with me."
"Whatever," Levi shrugged.
As they headed for the hangar, Levi suddenly stopped and turned back.
"Director Fury."
"Yes?"
"Your Avengers idea—it's not bad," Levi said casually. "But remember one thing."
He stepped closer, voice low.
"Don't put all your eggs in one basket. And don't assume your ace is the biggest card on the table."
With that, he patted Fury's shoulder and boarded the sleek, futuristic Quinjet.
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