Coulson caught the look on Li Feng's face—the look of a man who'd already mapped the entire board—and offered Uncle Ben an apologetic smile before slipping into the hall. He shut the door, thumbed Fury's number, and said, "Director, Austin knows we're monitoring the Parkers. He didn't tell me to pull it, but the message was clear."
On the other end, Fury was quiet a beat. "Tell me exactly what he said—words, tone, body language, all of it."
Coulson blinked, then obliged, walking through the exchange in detail, trying to figure out what nuance Fury was digging for.
When he finished, Fury rubbed his chin. "Got it. Pull surveillance on the Parkers. And his attitude toward them?"
"Too short a window to confirm my earlier read," Coulson said. "At minimum, he treats Mr. Parker like a friend." He hesitated. "Director, Peter Parker spotted the sensors too. He's… promising. Should I bring him into the Academy? Tighten our bond with Austin and get talent at the same time."
Fury thought it over, then shook his head. "No. Whatever Austin felt about us before—fear, disgust—it's shifted to disdain. We move on the kid, and Austin will yank him out by the scruff an hour later. We'll save face and keep the bridge standing."
Coulson nodded. He was about to hang up when a stray thought slipped out. "Director… did you know Austin's RV can fly?"
Fury hadn't seen it airborne. He didn't need to. He had tire tracks on Stark's helipad, stealth-coating purchase orders, and enough breadcrumbs to draw the picture. "I know it flies," he said dryly. "And it can cloak."
Before Coulson could press, Fury cut him off. "Tell Austin my lab is ready. He can 'play with the cube' whenever he likes. Laura's got the coordinates."
He killed the call, headed for a secure subterranean site, and personally swept it three times. If he was going to let a sorcerer poke at the Tesseract, it would be on his turf.
Coulson slipped his phone away, brow furrowed at how deep the tiers kept him in the dark. Right then, Li Feng stepped out of the hospital room, done with Uncle Ben.
"You've got 'confused' written all over your face," Li Feng said, amused. "Share with the class. I could use a laugh."
Coulson's smile was paper-thin. He gestured toward the elevator. "Director Fury asked me to let you know the lab is prepped. You can go try the Rubik's Cube—his words—anytime."
Li Feng scratched his head. Something in Fury's timing was off. If the man truly believed the Cube manipulated space—and knew Li Feng could sling portals—protocol should've been lockbox, blindfolds, air gaps, and ankle bracelets, not a red-carpet invite. Still… the Tesseract. Hard to say no.
He waved. "Lead on. Didn't think you folks moved this fast. Or did you just dust it off some shelf?"
Coulson kept the smile. "My education on the Cube started with you, Mr. Austin. Before today, I didn't know it existed."
Subtext received: Ask all you like. I don't know squat.
Li Feng pursed his lips. "Fine. I'll ask Fury myself. You gonna put a stocking over my head, drive Laura in circles, and drop me blindfolded at your boss's feet?"
"Stocking?" Coulson sighed. "If you insist, I'll buy one fresh from the package."
—
Elsewhere, a Quinjet ferried Fury to the bunker. After triple-checking the perimeter, he took a seat in a bare room—one table, two chairs—and rested a hand on a silver briefcase.
Minutes later, Coulson arrived with Li Feng—black hood on his head, feet moving like he could see just fine. At Fury's wave, Coulson left.
Fury slouched in his chair, one arm over the backrest, the other palming the briefcase. He said nothing. Across from him, Li Feng reached unerringly for the water, took a sip, and smacked his lips. "Last time you had the decency to offer beer. Today it's tap water?"
"Budget cuts," Fury said, tapping the bottle. "Mineral water."
"Same difference. Both worse than beer." Li Feng tugged off the hood, shrugged. "Hit up Stark for sponsorship. Man's loaded."
His eyes slid to the case. "That the Tesseract?"
Fury nodded, then pivoted. "Your take on Stark wanting to reverse-engineer your healing spell?"
"My take?" Li Feng tilted his head. "Neck's stiff—want me to lie down for it?" He flicked a look at Fury. "You say that like you weren't planning to study it."
Fury folded his arms. "You used to guard your tricks. Lately, in front of Stark? You heal at every chance. First meeting, you healed. Then again. I counted. So what's the play? Stark might be obsessed with survival, but he's not stupid. He'll figure you out. Or is there already a deal? Tech that can broadcast healing fields?"
So he sniffed the pattern. Li Feng kept the smile lazy. "It's not that I choose to heal Tony every time. It's that every time I see him, he's half-dead. What am I supposed to do—curse him?"
Fury's gut said he was dodging. He tried another angle. "Imagine Stark builds a portable healer. Families saved. Gratitude pouring in. Fame, money, influence—automatic. Meanwhile, your name stays buried. Waste of a legend, if you ask me."
He leaned forward. "Skip Stark. Partner with us. You get the glory and the payday. S.H.I.E.L.D. gets the tech."
Li Feng grinned, shook his head. "Spoken like a spymaster. Thanks, but no thanks. No deal with Stark, no deal with you, and I'm not chasing clout. What I do want—" he tapped the briefcase—"is to study the Tesseract. And you? Kindly roll yourself out and send in your scientists. They can watch me work."
No partnership, then… but he's been nudging Stark, Fury thought. He stood, crossed to the door, then paused. He pulled a slim recorder from his pocket and held it up. "How about I play your last line for Stark?"
Li Feng waved him off, bored. Do whatever.
Truth be told, his pulse ticked higher.
Fury left. A moment later, a team in heavy biohazard suits wheeled in a cart bristling with instruments. With a care born of terror, they opened the case and lifted out the Cube, faint blue light spilling over gloved hands.
Li Feng licked his lips without thinking. To the researchers' alarm, he closed his eyes and laid two fingers on the Tesseract.
A breath. Another.
Relief spread through him. He'd guessed right.
The outer lattice was doing two things at once—shielding the Space Stone within and keeping him from touching it directly. Stronger now than ever, he could feel the thrum of spatial energy bleeding through the casing—alive, inexhaustible—and he knew it wouldn't tear him apart.