Inside S.H.I.E.L.D.
"You've been staring at something this whole time."
Maria Hill knocked, stepped in with a file to hand over to Nick Fury, then paused. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, as if on something she could not see.
"Nothing," Fury said, eyes still flicking over the quiz chatroom's messages. "What's up?"
"This needs your signature, then it goes to archives." She passed him the folder. "The World Security Council cut our funding by ten percent. They say Project Pegasus tied to the Tesseract is too costly."
"But Mr. Alexander Pierce is already negotiating with the Council. I expect the withheld funds will be released to us soon."
Fury nodded, signed, and returned the file.
As Hill turned to leave, he hesitated, then spoke. "I need a few people monitored. Closely."
"Oh? Names?"
Hill reached out for a list.
"A doctor named Stephen Strange. A pair of twins named Wanda and Pietro. And a young man named Aoi Shun."
Hill frowned. "Too vague. I need surnames, identities, current addresses, anything concrete."
"I don't have them. Just the names."
He knew it was asking a lot. With a world this big, duplicate names were inevitable. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. would be searching a needle in the ocean.
But the Sorcerer Supreme in that chatroom had said everyone present was either a future superhero or someone tied to one. Fury could not ignore that.
"What I do know," he went on, "is that Strange is a physician. The twins Wanda and Pietro are orphans from Sokovia. When they were eight, their parents were killed by weapons made by Stark Industries."
"If we can confirm the twins' current ages, then with timing and location we might pin them down. Beyond those facts and the names, I've got nothing."
He glanced back at the chatroom, at Aoi Shun's handle and its suffix.
"As for this Aoi Shun, I know absolutely nothing."
"I'll try," Hill said after a beat. "Dr. Stephen Strange is doable. He's already well known in New York's medical circles."
"Wanda and Pietro, no promises. And Aoi Shun... the world is too big."
"Understood."
Once Hill left, Fury leaned back and studied the flowing conversation in the chat.
If the Sorcerer Supreme was right and everyone here was a hero, then his own presence meant something too. Did it imply his Avengers Initiative would one day succeed?
And Tony Stark likely would not die in the imminent attack. Otherwise he would not qualify to appear in this chatroom.
What about Steve Rogers? Everything here pointed to the future. If Steve could be present, then he must still be alive, merely not yet awakened.
If that was true, it was terrifying... and fantastic.
Fury pulled out his phone and sent terse messages to Natasha and Barton.
Simple objective: find ways to draw out everyone's identities.
One way or another, if superhumans existed, he would recruit them for the Avengers.
He set the phone down, eyes returning to the chat as his mind raced over the question.
Who had orchestrated the attack on Tony Stark?
Get it right and there would be a reward. If the prize truly was Teleportation, that was far too tempting to pass up.