"Now you're the Dark Dimension's master?" Bul-Kathos asked, eating dinner at the wooden table. He'd worked out his rustiness, missing mealtime.
Ancient One sat across from Jill, calmly stirring her bread bowl. Jill didn't grasp the conversation but watched her.
"The Dark Dimension shattered under your power's fear, coalescing into me. It's no longer a dimension—more a seed of dark energy," Ancient One said. Bul-Kathos sensed the decay in her aura gone, replaced by a faint echo of Li-Ming.
"Any more punching bags like that?" he asked, chewing black bread.
Dormammu's stench had been unbearable, or Bul-Kathos might've spared him for future sparring. "Maybe," Ancient One replied, thinking of Odin. Once the mightiest in the Nine Realms, age had weakened him, likely making him the feeblest of their tier.
"Good. Hope the next one doesn't enrage me," Bul-Kathos said, staring blankly at the table.
"Someone might open a Hell portal for you," Ancient One suggested, picturing Mephisto.
"We'll see when I meet them," he replied, eating quietly.
"Director, I request to go to that mountain!" Rumlow stood before Nick Fury, eyes resolute.
Fury hesitated, sensing something amiss. "Your team's understaffed. Isn't that too risky?"
"Now's the perfect time. If my attacker's still out there, a short-handed team is their chance!" Rumlow's eyes blazed.
A real pursuer might infiltrate a new team, but Rumlow knew no such person existed. His performance was to gain Fury's trust. Pierce suspected Fury knew something; Fury suspected internal enemies. The Commandos distrusted both. A single spark could ignite a Pierce-Fury clash. Unaware of Hydra's reach, Fury might die, and an exposed Hydra would fall under global assault. The Commandos' veterans would triumph.
"I'll consider it," Fury said, rejecting Rumlow's request. Exploring the mountain's dangerous secret realms required strong agents, but sending his best risked hidden enemies. Losing key operatives wasn't an option. Rumlow's intel left Fury's top agents tied up, stretching resources thin for the first time.
"Stand by. You'll be notified if approved," Fury said. Rumlow left to pitch his "plan" to Pierce, setting up Hydra's exposure.
Coulson entered. "Director, the Purple Man's report is ready." He placed it on Fury's desk.
Investigations tied many superhuman crimes to the corpse. Coulson felt relieved; Bul-Kathos's casual killing had unnerved S.H.I.E.L.D., but the Purple Man's evils eased their wariness.
Fury skimmed the report, setting it aside. "Has Frank abandoned his revenge?"
His eye flickered. Vengeance wasn't wrong, but he knew Frank. Once he acted, it'd be a city-shaking war, not a silent assassination.
"No. He's gone elusive, slipping our surveillance," Coulson said. Frank, a peak human warrior, easily evaded tracking. Knowing Coulson's presence exposed his intent, he'd gone underground to avoid obstacles.
"Focus on the gangs. Don't aid him—just handle the aftermath," Fury decided. It'd cost minimal resources, just an agent notifying local precincts. Dead criminals were no loss.
"Can we replicate the Purple Man's powers?" Fury asked, holding the report.
"Not yet," Coulson replied.
Fury dismissed him. "Not yet" was a delicate phrase. For S.H.I.E.L.D.'s elite, work never stopped.
(Chapter End)