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Earlier. The Safehouse.
Natasha swallowed hard, her face pale.
"He uploaded everything," she whispered, looking at the tablet. "Hermione's file. Her identity. The Wizarding World."
"But that's not the worst part," Natasha continued, her voice trembling. "There's a note attached. A file labeled 'Project Ouroboros'."
"What is it?" Fury asked immediately.
Natasha looked up, her green eyes wide with dread.
"A prophecy," she said. "'The Coming of the Witch.' It says she isn't just a wizard. She's the catalyst for the end of secrecy. And the end of the world."
S.H.I.E.L.D. Hub Base.
The control room was a scene of devastation. Sparks rained down from shattered server racks.
Skye stood in the center of the chaos, her hands thrust forward.
BOOM.
Invisible shockwaves radiated from her palms. The air distorted violently, each pulse hitting with the force of a freight train. She was pushing her new Inhuman powers to the limit, trying to shatter the intruder.
Opposite her stood a wizard in black robes. He wasn't one of the elite eighteen from the Helicarriers, but he was competent. A Ministry hitman.
He raised his wand casually.
"Protego."
A shimmering, translucent halo appeared in front of him. It looked fragile as glass, yet when Skye's vibration wave hit it, the energy simply... stopped. Neutralized.
Coulson gripped his I.C.E.R. pistol tightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"We came here for the Clairvoyant," Coulson muttered to May. "Why is there a wizard?"
Skye gritted her teeth. She screamed in frustration, increasing her output. The shockwave became tangible, ripples cracking the concrete walls around them.
"ENOUGH!"
The wizard looked bored. He flicked his wand.
BUZZ!
The concrete floor beneath Skye instantly liquified into gray sludge.
"Whoa!" Skye yelped as gravity took over. The swamp sucked her down to her waist in seconds, trapping her legs in hardening stone.
"Skye!" Coulson shouted. He raised his gun and fired two blue stun rounds.
The wizard didn't flinch. The bullets stopped dead one meter from his face, hanging in the air for a second before dropping harmlessly to the floor.
Melinda May pounced from the flank like a cheetah, launching a flying kick aimed at the wizard's head.
The wizard didn't even turn around. He made a lazy, backward shooing motion.
"Depulso."
CRACK.
May hit an invisible wall of force. She groaned as she was launched backward, slamming into a bank of monitors and crumpling to the floor.
"Give up," a deep voice rasped from beneath the hood. "Your toys are pathetic."
He turned back to Skye, who was struggling in the cement.
"The Inhumans..." he mused. "An interesting power. Crude. Biological. But interesting."
Coulson's heart sank. He knows about Inhumans? This wasn't a random attack. This was a targeted strike.
"Who are you?!" Coulson demanded, stepping in front of Skye. "Who sent you?!"
The wizard didn't answer. He raised his wand, the tip glowing green.
Despair rose in Coulson's chest. They had survived aliens and super-soldiers, but against magic, they were children fighting with sticks. Even Skye, their heavy hitter, was helpless.
SWISH.
A red beam of light silently pierced the air from the doorway.
There was no shout. No warning. Just a soft snap as the wizard's Shield Charm shattered like sugar glass.
The red spell continued, striking the wizard squarely in the chest.
"Ugh—!"
THUD.
The black-robed figure stiffened, his eyes rolling back, and he fell face-forward onto the floor. Stunned cold.
The control room fell deathly silent.
Coulson, May, and Skye froze.
What just happened?
A figure slowly walked in from the shadows of the corridor.
It was a girl. She looked... dreamy.
She had waist-length, dirty-blonde hair that looked like she hadn't brushed it in days, yet it fell in perfect, ethereal waves. She wore a strange necklace made of butterbeer corks and radish-shaped earrings. Her eyes were large, protuberant, and a silvery-grey that seemed to look right through the walls.
She walked with a skipping step, humming a tune, curiously surveying the messy room as if she were in a museum, not a warzone.
In her hand, she held a wand.
Coulson's heart was in his throat. Another one?
The girl's gaze finally drifted to Coulson. She tilted her head, her eyes unblinking.
"Are you Coulson?"
Her voice was light and airy, like wind chimes, carrying a hint of distant curiosity.
Coulson paused, nodding instinctively. He kept his gun raised but lowered the aim. "I am."
A faint, serene smile appeared on the girl's face.
"Hello," she said. "I am Hermione's friend. My name is Luna Lovegood."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The name "Hermione" was the magic password.
Skye looked at the unconscious wizard, then at the dreamy girl. Frustration bubbled up. She had just unleashed an earthquake and done nothing. This girl walked in, waved a stick, and ended the fight in one second.
Magic is cheating, Skye thought bitterly, trying to pull her legs out of the stone.
Coulson stepped forward, holstering his weapon. "Miss Lovegood. Thank you. You have... good timing."
He glanced at the enemy. "Do you know who he is? Why did he attack us?"
"Huh?" Luna looked surprised, her eyebrows raising. "You guys don't know?"
"Know what?"
Before she could answer...
BANG!
The heavy blast doors were kicked open.
A squad of fully armed S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team soldiers rushed in, tactical lights sweeping the room.
The leader strode in, his face rugged and concerned. John Garrett.
He spotted Coulson, alive. He spotted the wizard, unconscious. He spotted Luna.
Garrett's expression froze for a microsecond. Who the hell is the hippie?
He recovered instantly, putting on his best 'relieved friend' face.
"Coulson! You guys are alright! That's great!"
He walked over, clapping Coulson on the shoulder. "Thank goodness! I heard the distress call. I thought you were toast."
"Garrett?" Coulson asked, confused. "What brings you to the Hub?"
Garrett smiled, but internally he was screaming. Pierce promised me the wizard would handle this. Why is he sleeping on the floor? And who is the new girl?
"I came to provide support," Garrett lied smoothly. "I heard chatter about an attack..."
"EVERYONE! WEAPONS DOWN!"
Another group surged in from the opposite corridor. These agents wore different tactical gear.
The leader was a stern woman with red streaks in her hair and glasses. Victoria Hand, Level 8.
The atmosphere in the room turned icy. It was a three-way standoff.
Hand glanced at Garrett (whom she suspected), Coulson (whom she suspected), and the unconscious wizard (whom she didn't understand).
"We just received a Top-Level Alert from the Triskelion," Hand announced, her voice grim.
She looked at them, ensuring they heard every word.
"Hydra, in conjunction with the Ministry of Magic, has launched a full-scale decapitation strike on S.H.I.E.L.D."
Coulson's pupils contracted. "What?!"
Everyone thought they had misheard.
Hydra? Ministry of Magic? Attack?
It was a word salad of nightmares.
Hand continued, speaking rapidly.
"The attack in D.C. failed. The Witch—Hermione Granger—destroyed three Project Insight Helicarriers. She single-handedly defeated eighteen high-ranking Aurors and a Ministry official named Tom Riddle."
"However," Hand looked at the unconscious wizard on the floor. "This was a coordinated global strike. They are hitting every base. They are hunting S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."
She looked at Luna Lovegood.
"And apparently," Hand said, "the Wizards are having a civil war on our front lawn."
Luna hummed, tucking her wand behind her ear.
"Oh, it's not a civil war," Luna corrected dreamily. "It's just a Wrackspurt infestation. The Ministry is full of them. That's why Hermione is angry."
She looked at Coulson.
"By the way, Hermione is coming. She said she needs to borrow your plane."