Inside the abandoned church in Seville, the team was tense. The ground was still shaking slightly after Ward had touched the metal of the Asgardian staff, which was now in his hands. The faint glow of the piece shone in his eyes, but as he held it, a feeling of heaviness and pain overcame him.
Coulson and May noticed the change almost instantly. Ward's face went rigid, as if he were fighting something internal. His breathing quickened, and he gripped the staff tighter.
"Ward?" Coulson called cautiously. "What's going on?"
Before Ward could answer, a side door of the church was thrown open with a bang, echoing through the stone corridors. A group of men and women, dressed in black and carrying symbols engraved on their clothes, burst in. In the center of the group was the couple who had found the first piece of the staff.
The woman, who was already wielding her own part of the Berserker Staff, stared at Ward. Her eyes, once ordinary, now glowed with an intense, uncontrollable fury.
"Give me the staff!" she shouted, advancing toward him. "That power does not belong to you!"
Ward was still paralyzed, struggling with the memories the staff had triggered. He could feel his body begin to shake, as flashes of his painful childhood played in his mind.
The scene before his eyes dissolved. He was no longer in the church in Seville. He was back on his family's farm in the Virginia countryside, where the screams of his younger brother, Thomas, echoed in his mind. He could clearly see the well. The well where, years ago, he had been forced to throw Thomas on the orders of his older brother, Christian.
"Do it, Grant," Christian's voice echoed in his mind, cold and authoritative. "Throw him in there. That's what he deserves."
Ward, in the memory, was holding Thomas's small hands, begging for help. The fear in his younger brother's eyes was as real now as it had been on that terrible day. He remembered the feeling of helplessness, the repressed fury he felt at not being able to save Thomas. Christian's voice pierced him like a knife.
"You won't help him. Don't you dare disobey, Grant."
Ward felt his breathing become ragged. It was as if he were reliving the trauma, as if he were in that moment all over again. His fists clenched involuntarily, the anger he had always tried to control surging with force.
"Ward!" May's voice brought him back. She was at his side, trying to pull him out of his trance.
Before Ward could react, the couple and their group of followers advanced. The woman, with the staff in her hands, hit one of the pillars of the church, collapsing part of the ceiling. The battle began immediately. May, always agile and precise, attacked with quick movements, knocking one of the men down with a kick straight to the chest.
Coulson, next to Ward, opened fire, trying to contain the group's advance. But the woman, with the superhuman strength that the staff granted her, seemed unbeatable. She moved with a speed and fury that left the agents at a disadvantage.
"We need to get out of here!" Coulson shouted, as he retreated.
Ward, still holding the piece of the staff, finally reacted. He swung the staff towards the woman, blocking one of her blows. The impact of the two parts of the staff colliding caused a wave of energy to run through the ground, cracking it. The force of the blow made them both retreat.
"This will not end here!" the woman shouted, with uncontrollable fury. "The staff is rightfully ours!"
She glanced at her group, and in a quick maneuver, one of the followers managed to grab the piece of the staff from Ward's hands while he was still recovering from the emotional effects. Now, with both parts in her hands, the woman smiled victoriously.
"No!" Coulson shouted, but it was too late.
The couple and their group fled through the same door they had entered, disappearing into the shadows of the night. Ward fell to his knees, panting, as May and Coulson quickly approached.
"Ward, are you okay?" May asked, visibly worried.
Ward shook his head, trying to regain control.
"I... I'm fine. I just need to... breathe."
But the look in his eyes said otherwise. He was still trapped in the dark memories of his past.
Back on the Bus, the atmosphere was tense. Simmons was tending to Ward in the medical area, running some tests to check the effects of the staff on his system. Ward was sitting on the stretcher, visibly uncomfortable.
"Ward, I need to test your adrenaline levels and other hormones," Simmons explained, holding a syringe. "The staff may have released substances into your body that are causing these intense reactions."
Ward glared at her, his patience at its limit.
"I don't need tests, Simmons. I'm fine."
"I understand that this is frustrating," Simmons said calmly. —But we need to make sure there are no serious side effects. I just want to help.
Ward took a deep breath.
He stared at the staff, trying to control himself. He knew Simmons was just trying to do his job, but the mix of anger and pain he'd felt since touching the staff was eating at him.
"Simmons…" He paused for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry if I'm being rude. I don't mean to be." Simmons looked at him sympathetically.
"I know you're going through something hard, Ward. Do you want to talk about it?" Ward shook his head, carefully pulling the syringe away from Simmons.
"When I touched the staff… it brought back memories. Memories I've been trying to bury for years." Skye, who had been watching closely, cautiously approached.
"What did you see, Ward?" He hesitated, looking at the ground before answering.
"My childhood. My little brother, Thomas. I was forced to… throw him down a well. Christian, my older brother, made me do it. He's always been cruel, manipulative. And I... I couldn't do anything to help Thomas."
Simmons and Skye exchanged surprised glances. They knew Ward had a complicated past, but this was the first time he'd spoken about his family in such detail.
"The staff... it amplifies the pain and anger," Ward continued, his voice now lower. "And it all came back. Everything. The anger, the hatred, the guilt. I tried to forget, but this... it brought it all back to me."
Skye placed a comforting hand on Ward's shoulder.
"I know what it's like," she said softly. "To have a past you can't forget, that haunts you. But you're not alone in this."
Ward looked at her, his eyes showing quiet gratitude. He took a deep breath and stood up from the stretcher.
"Just... I'm sorry for anything I say or do while you're like this. I don't mean it, I swear."
Coulson, who had entered the room without Ward noticing, heard the last words.
"We understand, Ward," Coulson said, his expression serious. "But we need you in control. We still have work to do. We can't let that staff affect your judgment."
Ward nodded, determined. "I'll be fine. I just need some time to process everything."