A shadowy figure moved swiftly through the secret base, a black suitcase clutched tightly in his hand. The figure wore a black overcoat, black gloves, black boots, black socks, and a black eyepatch covering one eye… basically, everything about him was black.
This mysterious figure, who seemed to be the very embodiment of darkness, was none other than Nick Fury—the best spy and the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.
He was heading toward one of several emergency exits, where a car was waiting for him.
Though he felt conflicted leaving several of his men behind to slow down the mysterious invader, he had no choice. He couldn't allow what was inside the black briefcase to fall into the wrong hands.
The briefcase contained the Tesseract, an object of immense power. S.H.I.E.L.D. had recovered it from the wreckage of a Hydra bomber plane called Valkyrie, which Steve Rogers had heroically crashed into the Greenland coast to prevent New York from being bombed.
*"Sigh."*
"If only I hadn't sent Black Widow on that other mission," Nick Fury muttered. "That invader would've been cold by now."
Fury hadn't expected something like this to happen on one of his routine visits to check on the progress of the weapons research involving the Tesseract.
But despite the bad luck of the situation, Fury also felt a strange sense of fortune. If he hadn't been here, the Tesseract would probably already be in the hands of the invader.
Whoever this person was, they had easily defeated several of Fury's most trusted and capable agents.
After walking for a few more moments, he finally reached his destination. A car and a group of agents were waiting for him.
The base's destruction was imminent. Now at the exit, Fury gave his final order to the remaining agents, those still inside the base trying to delay the intruder.
"Agents, retreat. There's no need to slow the enemy down any longer!"
With that message sent, Fury signaled to the driver to get them out of the base immediately, as the countdown to self-destruction was running low.
The driver started the car, and they sped toward the exit. Sitting in the back seat, Fury allowed himself a moment of relief as he thought to himself, **"There's no way the intruder will be able to reach us now."**
Unfortunately for Fury, those thoughts set a grim stage—a proverbial death flag.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a voice came from the seat next to him.
"Leaving already? The fun's just begun!"
Instead of looking at the intruder who had somehow appeared next to him in the car, Fury's well-honed instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, he pulled a pistol from inside his overcoat and fired at the unwanted guest.
In an ideal world, that shot would've killed the intruder instantly. Unfortunately for Fury, the person he shot at wasn't real—it was just an illusion.
He watched in disbelief as the bullet passed straight through the figure, making him wonder if he was hallucinating.
Before he could fully process what had happened, the front right tire of the car was struck by an arrow.
As if that weren't bad enough, it wasn't just any arrow—it was an explosive one.
The arrow's charge went off, sending the car spinning out of control. The vehicle rolled over multiple times, crashing for more than ten meters before finally coming to a stop.
Bruised and battered, Fury crawled out of the wrecked car, still clutching the briefcase containing the Tesseract.
His whole body ached, but he forced himself to keep moving, determined not to lose the suitcase. As he crawled away from the crash, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Give it up, Fury. This is the end of the line. Hand over the suitcase."
Fury's head was ringing from the accident, his ears buzzing. Though the voice sounded familiar, he couldn't immediately place it.
He finally managed to lift his head with his one good eye, and his heart sank when he saw who it was.
"Barton… what the hell are you doing? Are you betraying S.H.I.E.L.D.?!"
It was Hawkeye—Clint Barton—one of Fury's best agents. And now, Barton was standing over him, an arrow drawn and aimed directly at Fury's head.
"No," Barton replied calmly, "I didn't betray you. My eyes have just been opened to a world I didn't know existed."
"Everything I'm doing now is for him. There's nothing else to think about, nothing else to do, except follow his orders."
Barton's words were cold, devoid of any hesitation, as he looked down at his former commander.
"Now, give me the suitcase, and maybe I'll spare your life."