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High above the clouds, Hawkeye's vehicle docked smoothly into a Quinjet. The hatch sealed shut, engines roaring as the aircraft surged forward.
{A/N: It's a flying car like Coulson's Lola.}
Storm followed silently.
His invisible suit adjusted instantly, thrusters flaring as he matched the Quinjet's speed—then exceeded it with ease. The distance between them vanished in seconds.
Suddenly—
A blast of energy erupted from the Quinjet's right side.
The explosion tore through the hull, ripping open a jagged hole as two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were blown out into open sky.
Storm reacted instantly.
With a flick of his wrist, two shurikens shot forward, attaching themselves magnetically to the agents' suits. Blue stabilizers flared, slowing their descent until they drifted safely downward instead of plummeting to their deaths.
"Stabilized," Storm muttered.
He turned back toward the damaged Quinjet and flew straight toward the breach.
Inside, the scene was chaos.
Hawkeye was locked in close combat with several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, arrows snapped and repurposed as melee weapons while batons and blades clashed around him.
Storm hovered just outside the opening.
"…Are there impostors among them?" he muttered.
"What are you all doing?!" Hawkeye demanded, ducking under a strike.
One of the agents laughed coldly.
"Don't worry, Mr. Barton," the man sneered. "You're going to die anyway. And we're not generous enough to tell you who we really are—"
He never finished his sentence.
A white blur flashed past.
The man's head separated cleanly from his body, spinning away as blood sprayed across the cabin walls.
The remaining agents froze.
Then—
The white suit shimmered into existence.
Storm stood there, fully visible now.
"Storm?!" Hawkeye shouted, stunned. "Why are you here?!"
"Ethan-sama predicted someone would come for the Tesseract," Storm replied calmly. "But even he didn't expect it would be your own teammates."
Storm vanished again.
Five flashes.
Five dull thuds.
Five heads rolled across the Quinjet floor as bodies collapsed lifelessly.
Silence fell.
Hawkeye stared at the carnage, frowning.
"Why did you kill all of them?" he asked looking at him. "We could've interrogated them—found out who they were!"
Storm reappeared and knelt beside one of the corpses, slicing open the collar with precision.
"You wouldn't have been able to," he said evenly.
Hawkeye followed his gaze—and stiffened.
Blackened veins pulsed beneath the agents' skin, branching unnaturally across their necks and faces. Their eyes were glassy, pupils distorted.
"Some kind of drug," Storm continued. "A kill-switch compound. If I hadn't acted, it would've activated soon."
He paused.
"And when it did… they wouldn't have died."
Hawkeye grimaced.
"We would've had to fight mindless monsters," Storm finished.
Hawkeye exhaled sharply and turned, grabbing the Tesseract Cube's containment case.
"…Damn it," he muttered. "Let's get back to Ethan's house. I'll call for backup from there."
Storm nodded.
He floated toward the damaged hull and placed two metallic discs on either side of the breach. Nanites spilled out instantly, spreading like liquid metal, weaving together and sealing the hole completely.
Pressure normalized.
The Quinjet steadied.
"I've taken over the Quinjet systems," Storm said as the cockpit lights shifted. "Rerouting control."
Hawkeye released his grip from the side railing, no longer being dragged by the air pressure as the cabin fully sealed.
The aircraft leveled out smoothly, clouds rolling past the reinforced windows as the Quinjet changed course.
Hawkeye sat back in his seat, arms crossed, sighing as he looked at the dead bodies on the floor. Across from him, Storm sat calmly, posture relaxed as he cleaned his sword calmly.
"They were my team," Hawkeye said quietly. "The S.H.I.E.L.D. Strike Unit. The best agents we had. Every single one of them was cleared, vetted, trained together. We've run dozens of missions like this."
He exhaled sharply.
"And yet they turned on me… just like that."
Storm tilted his head slightly.
"Maybe they didn't turn," he said evenly. "At least—not willingly."
Hawkeye looked up. "What do you mean?"
Storm's eyes narrowed behind the faint glow of his visor.
"Ethan-sama predicted this. He believes there is another faction inside S.H.I.E.L.D.—a shadow hiding directly beneath its light."
Hawkeye stiffened.
"Another faction… inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Yes," Storm replied evenly.
"It's the only possible explanation. If someone was able to move against Ethan-sama so precisely, then there must be people within S.H.I.E.L.D. who already knew of his existence—and chose to act anyway."
Hawkeye's gaze drifted to the lifeless bodies secured in the Quinjet.
"So there's another group in S.H.I.E.L.D., operating just like a strike team… but answering to someone else."
Storm nodded once.
"Most likely."
He continued calmly, "This is also the reason Ethan-sama never shared much information, even when he could have. He does not trust S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole—only a few individuals, such as Agent Coulson."
Hawkeye exhaled slowly.
"After today… I can't blame him. Even I'm starting to have doubts."
He paused, eyes narrowing in thought.
"But I might know a way to confirm what's really going on inside S.H.I.E.L.D."
Storm turned his head slightly.
"What way?"
"Black Widow," Hawkeye said.
"She's the best psychological specialist we have. She can read people, manipulate conversations, and get the truth out of almost anyone without them even realizing it."
He glanced at Storm.
"If I bring her into this quietly—off the books—there's a good chance she can uncover who's pulling the strings."
Storm considered it for a moment, then nodded.
"That… is a logical choice."
The Quinjet continued its course, the tension inside heavier than before.
"If this shadow group exists," Storm said quietly,
"then Ethan-sama was right to be cautious from the very beginning."
Hawkeye nodded once.
"Which means my next move has to be going undercover."
He stood up from his seat, expression resolute.
"If word gets out that I'm still alive, they'll just bury themselves deeper. I won't be able to find anything."
Hawkeye looked around the cabin.
"Destroy this Quinjet," he said firmly. "And take me away."
"From this moment on," Hawkeye continued, "Clint Barton is dead to S.H.I.E.L.D."
Storm paused for half a second—then nodded."As you wish."
He stepped forward and flicked a small metallic disc toward Hawkeye. The device snapped open mid-air, unfolding into a wave of liquid nanomaterial that surged over Hawkeye's body.
In seconds, it sealed into place—forming a sleek black combat suit that covered him from head to toe.
Hawkeye flexed his fingers, feeling the suit respond instantly."…Impressive."
"Let's go," Storm said.