"So, when can we start?"
Rumlow asked eagerly, urged by Nick Fury.
These guys were always curious about the unknown.
Fury observed Bulkathos through Rumlow's chest camera.
Seeing his old comrade's supposedly dead child stirred some excitement.
Though he wouldn't let personal matters interfere with duty, handling both was ideal.
"If you're willing, now. But your performance in the secret realm will project clearly on the plaza, like a movie, for us idle folks to watch.
Whether you get cheers or laughs is uncertain."
Bulkathos stuck the iron rod gently into the ground, the leg fully cooked.
He stood, facing the agents.
"Boss, we..."
Before his subordinate finished, Rumlow interrupted.
"We'll go now."
As S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top combat unit, their team ranked among the world's best.
With the finest gear, they doubted they'd be ridiculed.
As for food—they weren't stranded tourists; supplies were ample.
"Then suit yourselves, but no one will save your lives in there."
Bulkathos walked to the towering stele outside the Elders' Temple, opening a golden-glowing portal with a gesture.
"You can enter."
Turning back, his emotionless eyes made Rumlow shiver, like facing a natural predator.
This was Nephalem blood suppressing this world's humans; activating the portal stirred Bulkathos's bloodline.
After enduring Death's pressure, the Ancient One and Jill felt nothing.
But Rumlow struggled.
"Koss, stay outside."
To avoid total loss, Rumlow left his most trusted deputy, the seemingly timid one.
Koss was performing—his innate pessimism made others underestimate him.
"Boss, I'll wait for your return."
Koss trembled, but those who knew him saw the act.
Bulkathos watched them file in, bored.
This lowest-level realm didn't warrant his attention.
His interest lay in how these "brave" fools would face the ordeal.
...
"Bulkathos, is this okay?"
The Ancient One worried. Rumlow's villainy mattered little; she feared S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra coveting barbarian power.
Ambitious types wouldn't relinquish graspable strength.
The secret realms offered real power gains.
Not bloodline-related, but any corner might yield Diablo-world gifts.
Even demons there could teach combat experience to supernatural novices.
Lowest-tier barbarian gear granted superhuman power.
"I doubt they'll pass unless they quit."
Bulkathos implied judgment: their gains might be rich, but survival odds low.
Their arrogance alone doomed them to death.
Tess, left behind, caught Bulkathos's unfiltered words, eyes flickering.
As Rumlow's trusted aide, he aligned with Hydra.
His chest camera relayed everything to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ.
...
"Now, experts, your turn."
Fury addressed the roundtable of specialists—behavior analysts and more—studying Bulkathos's footage.
Others focused on Rumlow's team entering the realm.
Their goal: analyze the "secret realm's" power from the visuals.
Due to secrecy, they knew only their tasks, not the full context.
All began recording and analyzing; Fury, hands clasped under chin, pondered Jill.
The family's death was intolerable for Frank Castle; a man's vengeance was inevitable.
Fury felt no ripple over dead gangsters, but it fell outside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s purview.
He'd reviewed Frank's family files, including autopsies—his comrade was alone.
Yet Jill's appearance suggested complexity.
Suspicion brewed.
Paranoia was a top agent's trait; Fury excelled.
His thoughts veered to alien civilizations.
Verifying guesses felt futile.
Captain Marvel, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ace, couldn't be casually deployed.
Hearing Bulkathos's comment, worry mounted, but he was powerless.
Rumlow's team was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s strongest assault force.
Now, hope rested on them encountering the first monster, gaining something, and returning alive.
(End of Chapter)
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