Hearing Coulson's deduction, Elliot Randolph nodded and said, "You're definitely more perceptive than most people, Agent Coulson."
Coulson looked at him with a smile, "You're the Asgardian warrior who stayed behind, aren't you?"
Elliot gave a pleading look, "Please, don't tell anyone."
Outside the room, Killer Bee watched the surveillance feed and remarked, "Who would've thought he's Asgardian?"
Fitz agreed, "Yeah, who could've guessed? A real Asgardian, right here in broad daylight."
Skye, curious, asked, "How long do you think he's been on Earth?"
Simmons chimed in, "A thousand years, maybe longer."
"If we could get a sample—tissue or fluid—we could confirm it for sure."
Skye teased, "Or, you know, you could just ask him. You weirdo."
She continued, "This is way better than watching the History Channel. This guy has seen it all—Crusades, Black Death, disco."
Meanwhile, Killer Bee was intrigued by the lifespan of Asgardians, asking, "Do all Asgardians live that long?"
Fitz responded, "Based on their first appearances in the 13th century until now, we estimate their lifespan could be several thousand years."
Killer Bee muttered, "Thousands of years… That's a long time."
In Killer Bee's experience, ninjas had lifespans similar to regular humans.
Moreover, due to the constant state of war in the ninja world, few died of old age—most perished in battle or on missions, leading to a life expectancy often shorter than that of ordinary people.
Skye turned to Killer Bee, curious, "Do ninjas have long lifespans too?"
Killer Bee shook his head, "Same as yours. I've never heard of a ninja living for over a hundred years."
Simmons interjected, "Skye, didn't you hear Coulson earlier? Ninjas are just like us—they're humans from Earth."
"Since we're all from Earth, why would our lifespans be any different?"
At that moment, May approached, holding a tablet and working on something. Skye asked, "What are you doing?"
May, focused on her task, replied, "Locking down the interrogation room. Coulson's orders."
Inside the interrogation room, Elliot Randolph heard the sound of the door locking. With a smirk, he said, "You're going to lock me up? I've been in smaller cells than this."
Ward stated, "This room is made of pure Adamantium, designed specifically for people like you."
Elliot looked at Ward and replied, "But you're in here too, and that door has to open eventually."
Coulson calmly responded, "It opens when I tell them to open it."
He continued, "So, the myths… they're basically your autobiography?"
Elliot waved his hand dismissively, "I didn't write those. I didn't want people to know who I was, but I just couldn't keep my mouth shut."
Ward, still expressionless, asked, "Were you captured?"
"Or tortured?"
Elliot Randolph replied, "No, I was just a fool in love."
"In 1546, I met a French girl. She liked hearing stories, so I told her a great one."
"About a peace-loving Asgardian warrior who stayed behind. How was I supposed to know her priest brother would write it all down and turn it into legend?"
Coulson asked, "Do you know Thor?"
"Of course, I hung out with the future king of Asgard all the time."
Then he quickly changed his tone, "No. No, I don't know Thor."
"I'm just a stonemason, carving rocks," Elliot Randolph said.
"I've been carving rocks for thousands of years—you can't even imagine."
"When they came to recruit soldiers, of course I signed up. I just wanted to see the world."
Ward retorted, "But you had the staff."
Elliot scoffed, "I hated that thing. Others were intoxicated by the power that came with rage, but I didn't care for it."
Looking directly at Ward, he added, "Seems like you don't either."
Ward's tone grew serious, "What did the staff do to me?"
Elliot replied, "It illuminated the darkest corners of your soul. Whether you're human or Asgardian, it's equally uncomfortable."
Outside, Simmons muttered, "Illuminate? That's as good as saying nothing."
Meanwhile, Killer Bee thought about the information he had read in the Summoning Realm.
If the Hulk got his hands on that staff, his power would keep increasing endlessly. This weapon absolutely shouldn't fall into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands.
He began considering ways to retrieve it, possibly trading the staff for enhancement serums with S.H.I.E.L.D.
Elliot continued, "The staff is forged from a rare metal. It affects anyone who wields it, creating a connection."
"I went to great lengths to hide it, but unfortunately, the legend got recorded."
"For thousands of years, people have been searching for it."
Hearing this, Coulson interjected, "I need you to help me stop them from getting the last piece of the staff."
Elliot leaned back in his chair, sighing, "I'm a pacifist now."
When Elliot refused, Coulson pressed further, "You don't want your true identity exposed, do you?"
Elliot seemed unfazed, "Listen, you don't need to worry about these angry young people. They'll calm down, grow old, and eventually die."
"That's the beauty of life on Earth—everything changes."
Coulson replied, "I'll tell you what will change—your secret identity."
"Unless you help me find the last piece of the staff. Also, you might not know Thor, but I do."
Elliot considered this for a few seconds before finally responding, "Ireland was where I had my first love on Earth. There's a temple there."
"The monks gave me a comfortable bed, some soup, and warm wine."
Coulson added, "Closer to god."
Elliot nodded in agreement.
...
Meanwhile, in Helheim-
Hela sat at a lavish table, enjoying a meal and drinking with Charles, the two of them chatting happily.
At one point, Hela said, "You want to conquer planet after planet? A brilliant idea. Why don't you unseal me now and take me away from here?"
"Once I return to Asgard and awaken my slumbering soldiers, together, we'll be unstoppable."
But Charles shook his head, "The time hasn't come yet."
Hearing this, Hela's expression turned cold.
"If I can't leave, what's the point of everything you've told me? What do I gain?"