Shameless Note from a Shameless Author 😎
Day 4, people! Four days in a row with consistent chapter drops. 🎉 Honestly, I'm on a roll here, full of motivation and caffeine (mostly caffeine ☕), and it's all thanks to your support.Â
I had to rewrite this chapter a couple of times because I just couldn't get it right, especially when it came to the S.H.I.E.L.D. access test. I've been thinking a lot about it, and I know a lot of you are not too fond of Max being part of S.H.I.E.L.D. because of Fury's potential control over him. But here's the plan: the "condition" Max set for S.H.I.E.L.D., which is bound to break sooner or later. (I won't say when, no spoilers here 😉).
So, if you're enjoying the story and want this streak to continue, you know what to do! Drop those thoughts, theories, or even just a simple "great chapter!" in the comments. And if you're feeling extra generous, well… you know where the powerstones go. 😉
Let's keep this momentum going! For now, enjoy the chapter.
---
Fury watched as Max processed the invitation. The young man was clearly intelligent, but also filled with distrust. That was the problem with kids like him: they knew too much to be naive, but not enough to understand how things really worked.
He couldn't blame him. Max had survived on his own for far too long. He was the kind of person who trusted no one, and Fury understood why. However, if Hydra had tried to kill him, it was because he posed a threat. And any threat to Hydra could be a valuable asset to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Keeping him close wasn't just the best way to protect him; it also ensured he wouldn't become a problem. Fury had learned long ago that the best way to handle variables was to control them. And Max was definitely an unpredictable one.
Max broke the silence, his voice filled with skepticism. "You want me to join your organization? Why? Because Hydra wants me dead? Sounds more like a punishment than an invitation."
Fury kept his gaze steady on the boy. He didn't let the remark throw him off. "I'm not offering you punishment, kid. I'm offering you an opportunity. One that many don't get."
Max let out a dry laugh, clearly unamused. "Opportunity? To be your pawn? Sounds tempting."
Fury ignored the sarcastic tone but mentally noted the challenge. He was stubborn, but that was better than being fragile. A broken man was useless. A rebellious one, however, could be molded.
"Let me explain something," Fury said, leaning forward. "I'm not asking for permission. I'm offering you a way to survive. Hydra wants you dead, and I want to know why. But to find that out, I need you alive. And the only way to guarantee that is to keep you under my supervision."
Max stared at him, narrowing his eyes as if trying to read between the lines. "And what do I get out of this? What's to stop you from betraying me like everyone else?"
Fury let out a small sigh, but his gaze remained intense. "You get one thing, kid: time. Time to figure out what all of this means. Time to protect those who matter to you."
Max's face shifted slightly at that, an almost imperceptible movement, but enough for Fury to know he had struck a nerve. The boy's mother was his Achilles' heel, that much was clear. And Fury would use it if necessary.
"That's why I'm saying this now, and I'm saying it clearly," Fury continued. "If you accept, you work for me. I'll train you, make you someone who can face whatever comes your way. But the most important thing, Max, is that under my protection, they won't be able to touch you… or your mother."
Max tensed at the last words, but didn't respond immediately. Fury saw the internal conflict play out on his face. The kid was smart, but still young. He had learned to survive on his own, but now he was facing something he couldn't handle alone.
And that was exactly what Fury wanted.
Finally, Max spoke, his tone more controlled. "Let's say I accept. What am I supposed to do?"
Fury allowed a slight smile to form on his lips, but without softening his authoritative stance. "First, you learn. Then, you obey. And in the meantime, you make sure you don't give me any reason to regret this decision."
Max was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he spoke, evaluating the situation.
"If I accept, I have one condition. I want you to take care of my mother. She depends on pills, she can't stop taking them, so that needs to be under control. Also, I want you to make sure she never lacks the essentials: money, food, medical attention. And above all, that no one from Hydra or anywhere else gets near her or threatens her in any way. If you can't guarantee that, forget it."
Fury didn't flinch, his gaze fixed and calculating.
"Your mother has nothing to worry about. I'll protect her, but that means you have to commit too. If you accept, you work for me, and you fulfill what I ask. There's no room for half-conditions."
Max stared at him in silence for a few seconds before extending his hand. Fury shook it firmly, making it clear that this wasn't an equal agreement.
Fury smiled to himself. Keeping Max close not only gave him control over his actions, but it also protected him from future threats. He wouldn't send him on dangerous missions; instead, he would use him as a key piece, making sure he didn't make reckless decisions that could put him at risk. Moreover, in some way, this allowed him to settle the score with Gabe, keeping the boy safe under his wing.
Fury released Max's hand and straightened up, turning his back as he walked toward the door. "Welcome to the National Logistics and Strategic Intervention Agency, kid. Now, get ready to work."
Max watched as Fury left the hospital room, not in a hurry but with a firmness that made it clear he wouldn't be stopped. Just before crossing the threshold, the director turned slightly to the side without looking directly at him.
"Your test starts now," he said in a deep, sharp voice. "You have a limited time to find the training field. Your instructor will be waiting for you there. If you're late, the consequences are yours."
Max blinked, surprised by the abruptness of the comment. For a few seconds, he remained silent, weighing what he had just heard. Finally, almost as a whisper, he muttered, "And how am I supposed to get there?"
Fury, already walking down the hallway, didn't stop or turn around. His response came clearly, with a hint of challenge. "That's your first mission, kid: gather information."
And with that final word, he disappeared through the door.
Max remained sitting on the hospital bed, his mind processing the instructions. He looked over at Dr. Vandross, who was still in the room reviewing his notes.
"Do you know how to get to the training field?" Max asked, his tone mixing curiosity with slight frustration.
The doctor looked at him uncomfortably before shaking his head. "I've never been to one of those fields, kid. My job is here, not there. Sorry."
Max let out a long sigh, his gaze falling to the IV connected to his arm. It was clear that Fury wasn't going to make things easy from the start. This was a test, one of many more that would surely follow.
"Well, doctor," he said, raising his arm and pointing to the needle connected to the IV, "can you take this off? If I'm going to find that field, I'd rather not carry this thing around."
The doctor looked at him doubtfully, but after a moment, he sighed and began to carefully remove the needle. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard. You're still supposed to be recovering."
"Recovery," Max repeated, with a dry smile. "Something tells me Fury doesn't believe in that."
As the doctor finished disconnecting the IV, Max stood up, stretching his arms slightly to regain mobility. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. Finding the way to the training field was just the beginning, but he wasn't going to stop.
With his eyes fixed on the door, he thought to himself: If this is how he wants to test me, so be it. But he won't break me that easily.
Just as Max was about to leave, the doctor gestured for him to wait. Max stopped, and the doctor, pointing to a table nearby, motioned for him to approach.
"You need to put this on," the doctor said, pointing to a package that seemed to be a rolled-up blue blanket, wrapped in clear plastic.
Max approached, curious, as the doctor continued explaining.
"This way, the guards or agents won't stop you, thinking you're an infiltrator while you're investigating," he added, with a serious tone, as if what he was saying was more than just advice.
Max took the package in his hands and quickly unwrapped it. The blue blanket turned out to be a lightweight but functional uniform. It was a dark blue, almost black, with a fabric that reflected the light slightly but didn't shine ostentatiously. The fabric was soft to the touch but seemed durable, as if it could withstand multiple uses without wearing out quickly.
The doctor nodded in approval when he saw Max looking at the uniform.
"Put it on quickly. It's an identification uniform for cadets in training, designed to ensure your access to authorized areas without issues," the doctor explained, giving him a brief pat on the shoulder before returning to his work station.
Max nodded without saying a word. He had no alternatives, and anything that spared him from facing uncomfortable questions from the guards was a welcome temporary relief. With a contained sigh, he grabbed the uniform and headed to one of the nearby rooms to change. As he did, his thoughts kept running over what he had just discovered and what lay ahead.
Max adjusted his new outfit, took a deep breath, and left the hospital room. The first mission had begun, and he wasn't going to give Fury any reason to doubt him.
Max walked out of the hospital with a cautious expression, observing the long hallways of metal and glass. The base was a futuristic maze, full of intersections and areas that looked almost identical. Without a guide, he decided to start walking straight ahead.
He passed through more crowded areas, with agents moving around who seemed to ignore him entirely. The walls were adorned with holographic monitors displaying cryptic notifications like "PROTOCOL SIGMA 5 ACTIVATED" and "ACCESS RESTRICTED TO LEVEL 3." Good thing I have no idea what any of this means, he thought with irony.
The first change was noticeable when Max crossed an automatic door that seemed thicker and more resistant than the previous ones, some with access panels and color codes he didn't understand. The surveillance was more visible: cameras in every corner and agents well-positioned, watching every move. The atmosphere was marked by almost complete silence, only interrupted by the distant hum of machinery. Discreet plaques near the doors indicated restricted areas like "Confidential Data Analysis Room" and "Temporary Holding Area."
As he turned at an intersection, Max almost bumped into a tall man, dressed in an all-black uniform with the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem on his shoulder. The man was carrying a metal briefcase that seemed heavier than it should be.
"Hey, excuse me, do you know where the training field is?" Max asked, trying to sound casual.
The agent looked at him for a second, as if assessing whether he should answer or not. Finally, he gave a dry response:
"You shouldn't be here if you don't know where you're going. This is the security wing."
Without further explanation, the man continued on his way, leaving Max with more questions than answers.
Although Max didn't know exactly what this section was for, he could deduce that it was designed to protect information and control access. "Okay, I'm definitely not in the right place," he thought.
Instead of turning back, he decided to keep going. "If this is the security wing, maybe the hallways lead to something important," he reasoned. Besides, no one had stopped him yet, which meant he could continue exploring without raising suspicions.
He kept walking, carefully observing any clue that might lead him to the training field.
---
In Fury's briefing room…
The giant screen in the briefing room showed Max moving through the base, each of his steps perfectly tracked by the security cameras. Fury, Clint Barton, and Maria Hill were watching the young agent's movements from a safe distance, all in silence, each processing the information in their own way.
The screen adjusted automatically, switching cameras as Max moved through different areas of the base. The monitoring technology was impressive, with cameras that could zoom in with precision and change angles without any visible effort. Everything seemed programmed to follow Max without human intervention, adjusting to his movements in real-time.
Fury watched the screen without diverting his gaze, his expression impassive as he analyzed each step Max took. It wasn't just about security, but also about evaluating the boy's behavior. He knew Max was in a process of adaptation, but he also knew his potential could be great. However, Fury wasn't one to trust surprises. He still didn't know how well Max could handle what was coming.
Clint, next to him, watched the screen intently, his fingers lightly tapping on the table. He hadn't spoken, but his body language showed that he was just as focused as Fury on Max's movements.
"What do you think?" Fury asked without taking his eyes off the screen, his voice low, almost a murmur.
Clint took a moment to respond, but finally did, his tone thoughtful.
"He's lost, both literally and figuratively. He needs a map… and a lot of training. If he's going to join my squad, he's going to have to get his act together quickly."
Fury nodded slowly. He knew it couldn't be an easy path for Max, but he hoped he was willing to take on the challenge. Somehow, S.H.I.E.L.D. had bet a lot on him, and he wouldn't let him slip away.
Maria Hill, standing next to the table, was also watching the screen, her face serious. However, she couldn't help but let a slight sigh escape her lips. "He has potential. But there's something that worries me."
Fury gave her a quick glance, his eyes cold, used to dealing with the tensions of difficult decisions. "What's bothering you, Hill?"
Maria paused before answering, her voice grave. "Clare Jones. She's not happy that Max is part of S.H.I.E.L.D. You know she has some resentment toward you."
Fury didn't take his eyes off the screen. In his mind, the conversation with Max's mother was clear. "I know." He paused, his thoughts moving through the pending conversation. "It's something I've been putting off. But I can't avoid it any longer."
With a sigh, Fury turned his head slightly toward Maria, the hardness of his expression still intact.
"Clare has her reasons, but I'm not going to let her resentment interfere with what Max needs. If she cares about her son, she'll have to understand. And if not, Max will do what he needs to do, no matter what she thinks."
As he said this, Fury's eyes remained fixed on the screen. Max seemed to be walking aimlessly, his curiosity guiding him from one place to another. He stopped in front of a closed door, touched the handle, and then walked away, as if unsure of what to do.
"He doesn't give up easily," Clint commented, observing.
Fury nodded, his face expressionless. "That's what I like about him."
The screen switched cameras, focusing again on Max, who was moving toward a restricted area. Unknowingly, he was getting closer and closer to the training field, but he still didn't know it. Lost in his thoughts, he kept walking without realizing that the base had been guiding him toward his real test.
Fury averted his gaze for a moment, his mind returning to what he had been avoiding. "It's time to take care of this." Finally, he stood up from his chair, his deep, decisive voice resonating in the room.
"Hill, cancel my appointments for the next two hours. There's something I need to handle personally."
Clint watched him, but Fury had already turned, leaving with firm steps, not saying another word. Maria Hill nodded without saying anything, knowing that conversation would finally come.