"Why did you save me?" Skye asked suddenly, breaking the quiet rhythm of their conversation. Her voice was low but tinged with suspicion.
The way Ethan had approached her—it was too deliberate. Too planned. Yet, somehow, she hadn't felt the need to stay on guard around him.
"Because I want to help you," Ethan said, calm and steady, like he'd rehearsed it.
Skye narrowed her eyes. "Help me? So you're trying to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D. too? Is that it? You want to save the world from them?" Her words spilled out, full of passion and frustration.
Ethan hesitated for a beat, the smallest flicker of thought passing behind his eyes. "Can you tell me why you're against S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Because they've been hiding the truth from everyone," she said, her voice rising. "They manipulate the facts, they decide what we get to know, and they strip people of the right to decide for themselves."
She reached over and grabbed the data pad from Katie's hands without waiting. Her fingers flew across the screen.
"The Rising Tide noticed it years ago—S.H.I.E.L.D. tampering with online data, deleting entire incidents, erasing people. Top-level hackers started tracing the digital fingerprints. What we found... it was terrifying."
Skye tapped a few commands on the nearby console, and suddenly the screen came to life with grainy, jittery footage.
Some clips showed the Hulk in a rampage, fists smashing through tanks.
Another had Ghost Rider roaring down a city street, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. In the background of several videos, strange, shadowy figures flickered—too fast, too vague to identify.
"They're not protecting anyone," Skye said, her voice like flint. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a blunt weapon the government uses to keep people in check. They're wolves in sheep's clothing, hiding behind the words 'freedom' and 'security.'"
Ethan let out a short laugh.
It wasn't mocking—more like pity. His eyes lingered on Skye with something unreadable.
Is S.H.I.E.L.D. really the enemy Skye believes them to be? In some ways, yes. It's not a beacon of freedom. It's a powerful machine, centralized and secretive.
If someone told Nick Fury that he was against democracy, he'd probably smile, swear he was a champion of liberty, then walk off to find a memory-erasing gadget to make sure you forgot you ever asked.
Democracy, freedom—it's all a show.
Even the nations that claim to uphold those ideals still play the same political games in the shadows.
There's no perfect system, just ones that fit the time they're in.
If democracy could save this world—this Marvel world—then S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't need to do what it does.
Imagine the chaos if people saw the raw footage of Mephisto's arrival. Governments would collapse overnight.
Cults would rise. The internet would burn with panic.
S.H.I.E.L.D. exists to hold the line between what people can handle and what they aren't ready to face.
Like the secret keepers of old, they protect knowledge until the world is ready for it.
Ethan's tone shifted, his posture tightening. "Based on everything you just said, I'll give you a choice."
His gaze locked onto Skye, intense and unwavering. "Do you want to understand how the world really works? Do you want to truly live?"
Skye opened her mouth, then paused.
There was a weight behind those words.
Ethan stood nearby, silent, but something about his stillness hinted at power—unseen but undeniable.
She remembered something—being pulled through a wall like it was the wall was never there.
That hadn't been a trick. It had been real.
Suddenly uneasy, she turned to the wall she thought they'd come through.
She ran her hands across it, searching for a hidden panel, a false seam—anything. But there was nothing.
Just a solid, ordinary wall.
But at that moment, when Skye glanced back at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents by the roadside, a chill crept down her spine.
Cold sweat prickled on her forehead, and for a split second, it felt like the world had paused.
In her mind's eye, two glowing options hovered in the air—"Yes" or "No."
"I... alright, I'm in!" she said after a beat, her voice firm and resolute.
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
Skye continued, "I've always had this urge to breach S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems—not just for the sake of justice or rebellion. The real reason? I want to know where I came from. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been hiding my background. I just want to find my parents, figure out who I really am. Only then can I actually live."
"Excellent." Ethan snapped his fingers with a grin. "Then I'll take that as a yes. Come with me."
Skye's jaw dropped. "What? Didn't you hear me? I just said no!"
"Yeah, but you want to find your parents, right? You want to really live?" Ethan turned around to face her.
His gaze was serious now. "Then come with me. Because your answers are in the real world."
Skye blinked. "You know who my parents are? That's impossible. I've searched for years, dug into everything I could, and I know for a fact—only someone deep in S.H.I.E.L.D. could possibly know who I really am."
"Exactly." Ethan pointed at himself calmly. "I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Skye: "o_O???"
She turned to look at Coulson, who had walked off moments ago, then back at Ethan.
A rush of spy movie tropes flooded her mind.
Could this be it? Was she standing at the edge of some underground war between light and dark inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?
While Skye stood frozen, Katie leaned in close to Ethan and whispered,
"So, this Skye… she's Mr. Hyde's daughter? How the hell do you know that?"
"I got it from the S.H.I.E.L.D. database," Ethan casually lied with a casual smile.
He knew about it from the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. TV series, of course he wouldn't tell her that.
"Huh. Feels too convenient," Katie said, furrowing her brow.
Then she sighed and shook her head with a soft laugh. "Whatever. I believe you anyway."
Katie was sharp.
She could read people better than most.
And even though she could be fiery, she knew when to trust someone.
"Alright," she said, shifting into business mode. "Next step is to get this info out there. Pete, do you still have Deadpool's number?"
"Of course~!" said Colossus Pete. He pulled out his phone, dialed, and immediately hit the speaker button.
What followed was a barrage of panting and groaning on the other end.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?! I was in the middle of a very intense battle. The enemy was relentless! I finally had her cornered, bullets locked and loaded—and then bam! Your call made my gun jam! Do you know how many innocent lives you've just doomed? All because you couldn't wait five more minutes?!" Deadpool's voice practically exploded through the speaker.
Pete, looking alarmed, tilted his head. "Uh… did I screw something up? Wade sounds like he's in real trouble. Should we help?"
Ethan gave Pete a long look. "Honestly? I don't think he'd want you to. Even if he is currently being whipped into next week."
Pete frowned, still confused. "But we're friends. Shouldn't we fight together?"
"Sure, but… his car's faster than ours. There's no way we'd catch up," Ethan said, patting Pete's shoulder like a tired teacher.
"Spend some time with John and Bobby. Their driving might be reckless, but at least they stay on the road. Deadpool's funeral-drift style? You're not ready for that yet."
Pete: "??"
...
In a dim underground lab buried beneath a forgotten part of the city, the air buzzed with the low hum of machines.
Researchers in lab coats moved between flickering monitors and strange instruments. At the center of the chaos stood a dark-skinned woman with curly hair—Raina.
She was frowning as she flipped through a thick folder, her brow tense with concentration.
"Bang!" The heavy metal door swung open with force.
"Raina! Get over here—now!" A man in a dark suit, his hair wild and unkempt, strode in with urgent steps. There was something wild in his eyes.
"Sir, you're back." Raina straightened immediately, her tone formal as she approached him.
"I came to tell you—Francis, the one working with us? He's dead." The man's voice trembled, but he didn't stop. "But that's not why I'm here. Forget that. I need you to find someone for me, fast. A girl named Skye. Use the Rats—track her down. I want every piece of information we have."
Raina blinked.
The tension in his voice caught her off guard. She'd never seen him like this.
"Sir, may I ask... who is she to you?"
The man's expression darkened.
He stepped in fast and grabbed her by the neck, his grip tightening. "I said no questions. I want her file. Now. Especially a photo—I need to see her face."
Raina struggled, her voice barely escaping. "Sir... please...!"
Then, just as quickly, he let go.
He stepped back, eyes wide like he'd just woken from a nightmare. "What am I doing... I'm sorry. You know how I get. My emotions—they don't always stay in check. Just hearing her name—it brings back everything. The memories. The pain. You understand, don't you?"
Raina coughed, clutching her throat.
Her voice was shaky, but steady enough. "I understand, sir."
She'd known this man for most of her life—adopted by him, raised under his shadow.
Mr. Hyde.
That was the name others whispered when they thought he couldn't hear. Lena knew what he'd done to himself. How the experiments, the drugs, had changed him.
She didn't wait another second. Moving quickly to the console, she typed command after command, calling out to every digital contact in the Rats—underground hackers, info brokers, ghost networks. Behind her, Hyde paced like a caged animal, each heavy step thudding with rising impatience.
Finally, the screen lit up.
"Sir, I found something." Raina clicked open a file. Relief flushed through her. Someone had already compiled a profile on Skye. She only had to bypass a couple of firewalls to get it.
"Let me see." Hyde stepped forward, almost shoving her aside as he stared at the screen. His hand trembled slightly as he clicked to zoom in on the photo.
And then—
"It's her... It's really her! Ha!" He erupted into a crazed laugh, spinning like a man possessed. "Yes! Yes, it's her!"
Raina stared. This wasn't excitement—it was obsession.
"Sir... who is she to you?"
Hyde turned, grabbing her by the shoulders, eyes gleaming. "She's my daughter, Raina. My beautiful, perfect, brilliant daughter. Look at her! That nose, those eyes—just like her mother's. I'd recognize her in a heartbeat. After all these years... I've finally found her."
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Word count: 1844
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