Liam walked down a street toward an old café on the outskirts of New York. 'They went remote in case things go south, huh?' he thought, looking at his surroundings. The black SUVs parked outside made it clear he was in the right place. As he looked around, he spotted several agents attempting to blend in. 'That's a lot of precaution,' he mused.
Entering the café, Liam spotted Agent Coulson seated at a table in the middle of the room, with Clint Barton—Hawkeye—standing beside him. A few other agents behind them, 'the agents seem nervous. I wonder what he told them.' Liam wondered.
"Good to see you, Liam," Coulson greeted, gesturing toward the empty chair across from him.
"Agent Coulson." Liam's looked at the agents behind him. "Are they necessary?"
Coulson replied with a calm smile, "They certainly are, given we're dealing with someone who isn't affected by bullets and can take out dozens within minutes."
Liam smirked. "If you know that, why are you so comfortable here? Is it the man with the bow giving you confidence?"
"We trust your character. And yes, having the 'bow man' does provide some reassurance," Coulson replied smoothly.
"Alright, enough with the small talk." Liam sat down, fixing his gaze on Coulson. "What do you want from me?"
"Straight to the point. I appreciate that," Coulson said, leaning forward. "Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Agent Phil Coulson, from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. S.H.I.E.L.D. specializes in monitoring and containing supernatural existences to keep our country safe."
"I see. So, are you here to make a deal with me… or deal with me?" Liam asked.
"We're here to understand your motives for what happened with those 30-plus people—and how you did it," Coulson said. "So, what was your motive, Liam?"
"My motive?" Liam leaned back. "Do you really need a motive when you're getting rid of people like that?"
"The law was made for situations like that," Coulson replied. "Why did you feel the need to take justice into your own hands?"
"If the law was supposed to protect innocent people, why were those criminals free to terrorize them in the first place?" Liam replied, his voice low. "I don't kill for fun, Agent Coulson. I don't want to be an executioner. But if it comes down to it, I'm not going to stand by while innocent people are terrorized by savages. Knowing I could help and choosing to do nothing? That would make me as bad as they are." He paused. "Does that answer satisfy you?"
Coulson nodded, taking a moment to study him. "Yes, it certainly does. But would you also answer a few questions regarding a certain… 'monster,' 'armor,' and 'red spear'?"
Liam smirked. "There's only one answer. Magic." As he looked at Coulson he couldn't help but be amused.
"Magic?" Coulson raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You understand, of course, that we can't allow someone to roam freely who can cause that level of damage?"
Liam gave a slight nod.
"Which is why I'm here to offer you a choice." Coulson leaned back. "Join S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent, or let us confiscate your… weapon."
Liam appeared to think for a moment before shaking his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll go with the third option—which is neither."
"Are you sure?" Coulson pressed. "As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you'd have access to resources, advanced training, and support from some of the best specialists in the world."
"Becoming an agent sounds good," Liam replied. "But I'm not interested in being controlled by an organization." He paused, standing up. "However…"
At this, the agents behind Coulson raised their weapons, and Clint notched an arrow, aiming at Liam.
Turning his back on them, Liam summoned his armor. The agents fired immediately, but the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the armor. Once the gunfire stopped, Liam continued, "While I'm not interested now, I may reconsider joining S.H.I.E.L.D. sometime in the future. Until next time, Agent Coulson. And you, Clint."
Clint's eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised that Liam knew his name. Coulson, however, simply watched.
Liam turned and walked towards the door. The agents stationed outside, having heard the gunfire, grouped around him, but he sprinted past them.
Coulson exhaled as the door closed. "Well, that could've gone better.... At least he's considering S.H.I.E.L.D. in the future."
"How the hell did that kid know my name?" Clint asked, frowning.
"That's a good question," Coulson said. "At any rate, we should prepare to follow the tracker you shot onto him."
After a few minutes, Coulson checked his phone, watching as the tracker signal stopped moving, pinpointed at a nearby park. "Let's go—he's stopped."
When they reached the park, Coulson's gaze fell on something odd: a bundle of clothes spread across a bench, with the tracker resting on top.
"Well," Clint said, half amused, "looks like the kid knew afterall."
Coulson approached the clothes, frowning. As he picked up the tracker, he noticed a small piece of paper underneath it. He unfolded the note and read it:
'I left your gift behind. While I appreciate it, it wouldn't be welcome where I'm going. I left a little gift of my own—you'll find it soon.'
"A gift?" Coulson muttered.
---
As Liam walked away with a pack of limited time Captain America cards in his hands, his thoughts went back to the talk. 'That went better than expected. With the little "gift" I left for Coulson, I may be able to arrange a meeting with Fury next time.' He smirked. 'Since I showed some interest in joining them in the future, they'll probably leave my grandfather alone, too. In this way I won't join S.H.I.E.L.D. to do dirty work, like Clint or Natasha.'