Engines growled in tandem as the S.H.I.E.L.D. SUV rolled out of the hangar, Blaze's motorcycle following close behind. The night air was cool, the city skyline glowing in the distance.
You could've ridden in the car, Aegis commented dryly in Blaze's head.
"Far more comfortable. Air-conditioning. Cup holders."
"Cup holders don't make you faster through traffic," Blaze muttered, weaving smoothly between two sedans as they hit the freeway.
"True. But when Agents Fitz and Simmons are reporting you to May for reckless driving, please remember that I did suggest the SUV."
Blaze smirked beneath his helmet. "Relax. I'm not about to scratch Lola again."
In the SUV ahead, Simmons was peering through the back window at the streaking motorcycle lights. "He's really keeping up."
Fitz made a face. "Of course he is. He thinks he's James bloody Bond on two wheels."
"Or," Simmons countered, "he's just efficient."
Traffic parted easily for the bike, and before long, the convoy rolled into cordoned-off streets downtown. Police tape fluttered in the night breeze. The building ahead was scorched black, the windows blown out, the acrid tang of burned chemicals still hanging in the air.
The SUV rolled to a stop at the cordoned-off block. Blaze's motorcycle purred to a halt beside it, the engine cutting as he swung off. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burned chemicals. Police tape flapped in the breeze, keeping civilians back while S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved through the wreckage in hazmat suits.
The lab itself looked gutted — walls blown outward, windows shattered, black scorch marks spiderwebbing across the concrete. Portable floodlights bathed the ruin in stark white, shadows long and sharp.
Fitz grunted as he hauled his case out of the SUV. Simmons was already at the perimeter, waving her scanner eagerly. Blaze followed, helmet in hand, scarred jaw catching the glow.
"Stay close," he said, scanning rooftops, alleys, vantage points. Always thinking perimeter. Always thinking ambush.
Simmons' device beeped furiously. "Oh, this is… strange. Very strange."
Fitz crouched beside her, frowning. "Not a chemical accelerant. The blast pattern's wrong. See that? Too focused. Something internal."
Blaze knelt by a blackened section of concrete, brushing away debris with gloved fingers. Ash crumbled beneath his touch. He didn't need Aegis to tell him this wasn't a normal explosion, but the AI chimed in anyway.
"Observation: Thermal residue inconsistent with combustion. Energy source unidentified. Recommend retrieval for lab analysis."
Blaze straightened, eyeing the jagged ruin. Another piece of the puzzle, he thought grimly.
"Look at this," Simmons called, crouching near a twisted steel beam. Her scanner shrieked with data spikes. "Residual biological material fused into the metal. But… no identifiable DNA sequence. That shouldn't even be possible."
Fitz's brow furrowed. "We'll need to run a 3D reconstruction back on the Bus. Maybe then we'll know what detonated."
Blaze gave a short nod. "Then let's make sure you two get the samples." He kept his voice steady, but his eyes lingered on the heart of the blast zone, unease prickling at his skin.
Aegis spoke again, softer this time.
"Preliminary conclusion: This was not an accident. But the source remains unclear. Caution recommended."
Blaze slipped his helmet back under his arm. Yeah. Caution.
Behind him, Simmons carefully bagged fragments while Fitz deployed his drones to map the site. The night hummed with quiet urgency, every beep of their scanners pulling them deeper into a mystery Blaze already knew was bigger than it looked.
When they finally regrouped at the SUV, Simmons' excitement was tempered with unease. "Once we run this data, we'll know more."
"Or worse," Fitz muttered.
Blaze swung onto his bike, visor snapping down. "Either way," he said, engine growling to life, "Coulson's going to want answers fast."
And with that, the convoy pulled away from the ruin, carrying questions that would only grow sharper once the Bus saw the results.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Back aboard the Bus, the samples and recordings from the lab were laid out across workstations. Fitz hunched over the holographic projector, Simmons at his side, eyes darting between data streams. Blaze stood nearby, arms crossed, helmet resting against the console.
The recording of the explosion played back — distorted sound waves captured from city surveillance. Fitz adjusted the projection until a 3D model blossomed above the table: a glowing reconstruction of the blast.
"Not a bomb," Simmons said, her voice tight with awe and unease. "It was… a man."
The model flared, showing the figure at the epicenter. The blast began from inside his body, energy tearing outward until the lab disintegrated.
"A test subject," Fitz said grimly. "Like a human power source. But unstable."
Blaze's jaw clenched. His scars itched faintly as he watched the figure collapse in the projection. Aegis' voice hummed in his ear.
"Confirmation: instability inevitable. Without containment, all subjects will detonate. Including any future variants."
Blaze said nothing. Coulson was already piecing it together, his gaze distant but sharp.