"How about it? Do you guys agree?" John asked once again, his tone calm but resolute.
"John… you do realize you're talking about Mars, right?" Fury said, his brow furrowed, tone heavy with suspicion.
"Yes," John replied simply. Seeing the confusion written across their faces, he shook his head and waved his hand.
In an instant, a swirling blue portal bloomed into existence in the middle of the hall. Its glow painted the room in shifting light, the air humming with strange energy.
Everyone froze. Their eyes darted from the portal to one another, unease heavy in the silence. Building a city on Mars was one thing—but surviving there? No matter how powerful they were, Mars was a barren wasteland.
For a long, tense moment, no one moved.
Then, without a word, three figures rose from their seats. Thor, the Ancient One, and Tony stepped forward with quiet confidence. Without waiting for approval, they vanished into the shimmering gate.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Seconds later, only Tony returned. His face was unreadable at first—until a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You guys really need to see this," he said, before disappearing back into the portal.
The tension broke. Slowly, the rest of the team began to follow, their doubts replaced by curiosity. One by one, they stepped into the unknown.
In the end, only Peter and his friends lingered behind.
"You can go too," John said, his voice softer now. "It's your future college, after all."
Hearing that, they exchanged hesitant glances, then made their way into the portal. Peter was the last to approach. He stopped at the edge, glancing back at John.
"Uh… Mr. Arcanist," Peter asked, his voice unsure, "aren't you coming with us?"
"You all go ahead," John replied with a faint smile. "I'll catch up later."
Peter nodded reluctantly and stepped inside. The portal sealed behind him with a soft hum, leaving John alone in the hall.
He stood still for a moment, the silence pressing in. Then he exhaled slowly.
"Finally. What should I do next?" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Ah… yes. Coulson. Let's see what you're up to."
With a wave of his hand, a golden portal opened before him, sparks scattering across the marble floor. John stepped through.
---
Paris, Night Sky
The world on the other side was chaos.
Tracer rounds slashed through the night sky as The Bus shuddered under another barrage. Sparks rained from overhead panels, alarms shrieked, and the stench of scorched metal filled the command deck.
"Engine three's gone!" May's voice snapped from the cockpit. "We're running out of sky!"
Daisy gripped the railing as the plane lurched violently. "We can't take another hit like that!"
"I'm trying!" Fitz shouted, fingers flying across his console. "Just give me one more—"
The hull jolted again, cutting him off. Everyone braced as Coulson's eyes scanned the tactical table, searching for an option that didn't exist.
And then… the air in the center of the deck twisted.
A circle of golden light tore open, sparks cascading across the floor. A tall figure stepped out calmly, his presence cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Weapons snapped up. Daisy's hands glowed with quake energy, Simmons froze in shock, and Fitz ducked for cover.
"What the hell—?!" Daisy exclaimed.
Jemma's voice wavered. "Did… did someone just walk out of a portal onto this plane?"
But Coulson didn't flinch. He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the newcomer.
"John."
The name dropped like a stone. The others turned sharply toward him.
"You know this guy?" Daisy demanded, disbelief heavy in her voice.
"Yeah," Coulson said evenly, never taking his eyes off John. "I know him."
John gave Coulson a faint nod before turning to the others. "And unless I'm mistaken, you're about to be shot out of the sky. Let me handle it."
From the cockpit, May's voice cut through the comms, sharp and suspicious. "Coulson, who the hell just appeared on my plane?"
"Someone I trust," Coulson replied firmly.
That did little to ease the others, but there was no time for questions.
The enemy jet roared closer, its cannons glowing hot. John lifted his hand. A portal spiraled open beneath the cockpit of the hostile craft. In an instant, the pilot was ripped from his seat and sucked into the void. The jet spun wildly, trailing smoke, before erupting into flames and plunging into the sea below.
The portal snapped shut. Another appeared—this time inside The Bus. The enemy pilot dropped onto the deck with a heavy thud.
The figure writhed on the floor, its skin rippling. Within seconds, its disguise melted away, revealing green skin, a ridged chin, and alien eyes.
Simmons gasped, stumbling back. "That's… that's not human!"
Daisy's hands vibrated with quake energy, ready to strike. "Coulson, what the hell is that?!"
Coulson's face hardened. "A Skrull."
The word hit like a thunderclap.
John crouched beside the alien, pressing two fingers against its temple. His eyes narrowed. "Let's see what you're hiding."
The Skrull writhed in pain, but John didn't waver. After a moment, he looked up. "Oh… they're quite angry."
Turning around, his eyes met Coulson's. "You've been quite busy, Coulson."
"Alright, what exactly did you see, John?" Coulson asked, picking up the dropped files from the ground.
Taking a seat, John replied, "Nothing much—just that you've been a pain in the ass. So they sent him to take care of you. As for why… I don't know."
Suspicion flashed in Daisy's eyes. "And how exactly do you know that?"
John met her stare silently, his expression unreadable.
Coulson stepped forward, his tone cutting, final. "Because if he says it, I believe it. That's all you need to know."
Uneasy glances spread across the team. Daisy's lips pressed into a thin line, Simmons still trembled, and Fitz muttered under his breath. But no one challenged Coulson.
The Skrull groaned on the floor, bound and defeated.
Coulson glanced at John, a faint smile breaking the tension. "You always did have a flair for timing."
John's reply was steady, almost dry. "And you always did find trouble in the sky."
For the first time since the attack began, Coulson let out a quiet chuckle. Then his expression hardened again as he turned to his team.
"May, keep us steady. Fitz, Simmons—start analyzing our guest. Daisy keep him locked down. We've got bigger problems than bullets now."