S.H.I.E.L.D.
After yet another exhausting day leading the largest spy organization in the world, Nick Fury prepared himself for something almost mythological in his routine: rest.
As director, he enjoyed certain privileges—and secrets no one would dare imagine. One of them was hidden behind a false wall in his own office.
With a simple tap on his technological wristband, the wall slid smoothly to the side without making a single sound. The mechanism was as perfect as it was discreet, revealing a small hidden room, carefully shielded from sensors and cameras.
There was no luxury. No extravagance. No visible advanced technology.
But there was something there that no one—absolutely no one—would ever expect to find.
The interior of that space completely contrasted with the cold, ruthless, and calculating image Nick Fury showed the world. The walls were covered in photographs—dozens, maybe hundreds.
Photos of cats.
Big cats and small cats. Some fluffy, others short-haired. There were images of them sleeping peacefully on cushions, curled up in blankets, stretching lazily under the sunlight. Others stared into the camera with almost wise expressions, as if they guarded ancient secrets.
It was a true feline sanctuary.
That was, without a doubt, the best-kept secret of Nicholas Joseph Fury.
The man who commanded secret agents on ultra-classified missions across the globe…
Was, in reality, hopelessly in love with cats.
If the world ever found out, it would probably burst into laughter. Or fall into absolute shock.
Fury stepped closer to one of the photos, his hard gaze softening almost imperceptibly. In the lower right corner of the image, there was a small handwritten note, simple and discreet:
Goose.
"Ah… Goose…" he murmured, his voice heavy with nostalgia.
But Goose was not just a cute cat.
That "feline" had a… peculiar history.
It was during a highly classified mission that Fury had lost his left eye. He always said he'd been attacked by an alien.
Which, ironically, wasn't a lie.
After all, the one who had torn out his eye was Goose himself—a Flerken disguised as a cat.
As he drifted through those memories, an abrupt sound shattered the absolute silence of the office.
The door burst open.
"Director, I have something important to report—"
Time seemed to freeze.
Maria Hill stopped at the doorway, completely motionless. Her eyes swept over the wall of cats, then Fury… and then slowly back to the cats. Her agent instincts went into maximum alert.
Immediate retreat. Abort mission. Run. Now.
Fury's expression was that of a man caught in his most vulnerable moment.
Hill swallowed hard.
"I… I'll come back later."
She closed the door with precise, almost robotic movements, as if this were just another tactical maneuver. Inside, Fury remained still for a few seconds. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and tapped his wristband again.
The wall closed.
The mural vanished as if it had never existed.
His cold, imposing mask returned. A face like stone. Director Nick Fury was back.
Knock Knock
"You may enter, Agent Hill," Fury said.
"Director, something big has happened," she said as she walked in, maintaining her usual composure. She was trying with all her might to pretend that nothing had happened.
But when she saw Fury's face, she knew. That dark, icy gaze wasn't just concern over the news she was bringing.
"The leader of the Mutant Brotherhood, Erik Lehnsherr—Magneto—has just entered New York."
Fury stood up immediately, eyes widening.
"Is he alone?" Fury asked seriously.
"He's accompanied by the mutant known as Mystique."
"Where are they headed?"
"Apparently, they're going to the Xavier Institute."
Fury frowned, clearly surprised.
"Weren't he and Charles Xavier declared enemies?"
Fury crossed his arms and stared into nothing for a moment. Magneto appearing in New York, without fanfare, heading straight to Charles Xavier's school? That didn't smell right.
"We're going there immediately."
"Yes, sir."
Hill turned and left quickly. As she closed the door behind her, she let out a heavy sigh, placed a hand on her chest, and murmured:
"I'm alive."
Hill glanced at the ceiling and, after sighing in relief once more, went to prepare everything as Nick had ordered.
---
Xavier Institute
Magneto gazed at the Institute's façade with nostalgic eyes, like someone revisiting the past.
"This place hasn't changed at all…" he murmured, a faint smile on his lips.
At his side, Mystique—disguised thanks to her ability—remained silent. Her eyes carried the same nostalgic gleam.
That was when Wolverine appeared.
Logan had sensed Magneto's arrival the moment he reached the gates.
"What are you doing here?"
"As blunt as ever, Logan. It breaks my heart. Aren't we old friends?"
Logan didn't reply. He had no patience for irony. His claws snapped out with a metallic sound, and he lunged forward with a roar to attack Magneto.
Magneto merely raised a hand, and with a subtle gesture, Logan was launched like a cannonball, slamming against the Institute's iron gate with a metallic crash.
"If you didn't have adamantium in your body, perhaps you might have had a chance to defeat me."
The old game between the two continued. But the result was always the same.
The other X-Men didn't take long to appear.
Jean stepped forward.
"You shouldn't be here, Magneto. Leave."
"Is that how you welcome a guest? It was Charles himself who invited me. Or is this some kind of trap?"
"The Professor invited you?" Rogue said, surprised.
Doubt hung in the air.
At that moment, Charles Xavier appeared at the top of the entrance staircase, seated in his wheelchair.
"Calm down. He's right. I'm the one who invited him."
The X-Men exchanged shocked looks.
Jean seemed to understand something as she took in the situation. Her eyes shone with restrained hope. Perhaps the Professor was finally considering Arthur's ideas—the plan that could change everything.
Even so, Magneto's presence among them kept everyone from fully lowering their guard. He walked with confidence, but there was no welcome in any of the eyes watching him.
As he passed Logan, Erik couldn't resist and said, "How have you still not aged after all this time?"
Mystique, for her part, cast a suggestive glance at the old mutant.
Logan looked away, visibly irritated.
Magneto simply smiled and lowered his hand. Logan dropped to the ground with a dull thud.
The tension at the Xavier Institute was palpable. And even though he had entered at the Professor's own invitation… no one there believed he was present merely for a courtesy visit.
(End of Chapter)