In Shen He's long-term strategy, the Inhumans were considered potential allies of humanity—key to a stable balance in an increasingly unstable Earth.
After the Battle of New York, Earth's citizens had no choice but to acknowledge a harsh truth: humanity was no longer alone in the universe. Aliens existed—and some, like the Inhumans, possessed abilities that mirrored or even rivaled Earth's superhumans.
That made Black Bolt—the wise, reserved, and honorable King of the Inhumans—a crucial part of the equation. His alliance could have bridged Earth and Attilan. But Maximus's coup had thrown everything into chaos.
"River, the armor's en route to your location." Tony's voice rang from Shen He's phone, steady as ever. "I'll head there first. With any luck, I'll have everything cleaned up before you arrive."
"I'd love to see you say that with a straight face in front of Black Bolt's Queen," Shen He replied, maneuvering his sleek sports car onto the open freeway. "You really need to hurry up with the mecha upgrades. The world's evolving faster than we expected. We're getting caught flat-footed."
Ever since drawing rare tech blueprints from the artifact-lottery system, Shen He had handed most of them over to Tony for analysis. Repulsor-enhanced circuitry, graviton-field stabilizers, and even energy-conversion cores decades ahead of current science—he gave them all.
But even with Stark's genius, breaking down alien tech, reproducing it, and scaling it for mass use took time.
Pepper had already shown up more than once, demanding Shen He stop burying Tony under constant lab work.
"You underestimate me," Tony said with a chuckle. "People like you—superhumans—have power. But smart people? We don't have weaknesses. And I'm smart."
"Confidence is healthy," Shen He said dryly.
He brought the car to a screeching halt on the side of the road, then leaped straight into the air, soaring eight to nine meters high. His trajectory was intercepted mid-air by a streaking blur—the advanced battle armor, locking seamlessly around his body in motion.
"Jarvis, remove flight restrictions. Prioritize acceleration. I'm not a glass cannon like Tony."
To Shen He, the armor wasn't protection—it was a vehicle. His Sage Body alone rivaled Thor's raw power. The AI, aware of his reinforced physiology, diverted every ounce of available energy into propulsion. The engines shrieked as the armor shattered the sound barrier and surged forward, the strain beginning to push the suit's structural limits.
The sky tore open in a streak of blinding white.
Shen He passed Tony mid-air, rocketing toward their destination.
"These troops aren't Mexican military," Tony muttered through the comms. "They're too organized, too heavily equipped. There's an underground command structure in place. Jarvis detected cloaking signatures over a massive facility… Only Hydra could hide something like this. We need intel on Coulson."
"Perfect," Shen He replied grimly, tearing through the clouds like a missile.
The base in question wasn't on any S.H.I.E.L.D. archive—not even the redacted ones. But it was suspiciously close to the U.S. border. That left only one conclusion: Coulson had been taken here by John Garrett during the chaos.
And he was running out of time.
…
As it turned out, Garrett was already inside the base.
Hydra had repurposed this secret facility as a collection center for super-powered individuals. Officially, it never existed. Unofficially, it had always been there—lurking beneath S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. The original mandate was to monitor and contain enhanced humans deemed unstable.
But with Hydra in control, that directive had warped.
Now, 'containment' meant experimentation. And 'monitor' meant manipulation.
Garrett had arrived for a specific purpose: to extract something buried in Phil Coulson's mind. Something Hydra needed.
But fate had other plans.
On his first day, a high-powered escape incident had rocked the facility. Several prisoners, including some critical assets, had escaped. Hydra agents scrambled to lock down the base.
"Baron Strucker!" Garrett stormed through the hallway, dragging Coulson behind him. "You'd better not be telling me the enhanced I need already slipped out!"
"You mean the twins?" Strucker turned, his voice dry. "No. Look behind you."
Garrett spun around and froze.
A young man and woman stood silently. They were barely in their twenties, with pale skin and tired eyes. They didn't flinch or move, only watched.
"You're wondering why they didn't run?" Strucker asked casually. "They're different. Still raw, but their potential is massive. They're not prisoners—we've entered into a... cooperative relationship."
Garrett narrowed his eyes. He recognized the flicker of rage in the twins' gaze.
Hatred.
The most useful tool in Hydra's arsenal.
"I can't stay here much longer," Garrett muttered, yanking Coulson forward. "S.H.I.E.L.D. remnants will be inbound. I need what's in this man's head. A secret that can reverse death itself."
Only those with Level 10 security clearance had ever known. Before the war, Alexander Pierce had briefed him in secret.
Coulson was the key.
"John," Coulson grunted, his arms restrained but his mind intact, "I've told you… that secret comes at a price. No one comes back the same."
"And yet the six agents who underwent the experiment are alive, right?" Garrett leaned in, voice harsh. "I gave everything to S.H.I.E.L.D. And Fury let me rot. No resurrection, no cure. Just silence."
Coulson shook his head. "Let's not exaggerate. After we became senior agents, we barely even saw each other."
"Whatever," Garrett snapped, shoving him toward the girl twin. "Do it. Get in his head. Now!"
"Wait," Coulson tried, seeing the girl's hesitant expression. "You don't have to—"
He didn't get to finish. The girl reached out, her fingertips brushing his temples.
A soft red glow bled between her fingers. Reality shimmered.
Coulson arched back, screaming.
Baron Strucker watched for a second before turning away. "Begin data purge. This base is compromised. We won't hold much longer."
Hydra agents rushed to erase files, destroy samples, and prep for emergency evacuation.
A soldier ran in, breathless. "Sir! Radar picked up a supersonic aerial signature—likely Iron Man!"
"Iron Man?" Strucker hissed. "That narcissist in a tin suit? We're saving the world, not him! He thinks he's the messiah? He's just a clown in armor!"
Strucker turned toward the gathered Hydra soldiers, voice rising like a sermon.
"You are the elite. You are the future. One man in a flying suit will not stop us! Fight for Hydra! Long live Hydra!"
"Long live Hydra!" The soldiers echoed in unison, zeal in their eyes.
Strucker approached Garrett once more and whispered, "If Iron Man's close, the Chaldeans won't be far behind. I'm leaving first. Good luck."
Then he was gone—vanishing into the tunnels of the collapsing Hydra fortress.