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Ward's mind raced.
This was no coincidence.
If Fury sent the coordinates to Coulson, then Fury was there.
And Garrett had sent him there too, which meant...
"Skye..."
Ward looked at her, face twisted in an I-hate-this-but-I-have-to-do-it grimace.
"I think... Coulson's right."
"What?" Skye froze, staring at him in disbelief.
"I want to help you, really," Ward said earnestly. "But Coulson's our Officer. On this plane, we follow his orders."
"And if those coordinates really came from Director Fury... we have to check them out. Either to clear his name or to bring him in."
Ward turned and nodded at Coulson.
"Sir, I support your decision."
Coulson exhaled, giving Ward an approving glance.
"Thank you, Ward."
Skye glared at the two men, stamping her foot in frustration.
"You... you're impossible!"
"This isn't a democracy, Skye," Coulson said, authority restored, voice brooking no argument.
"I'm the Commander of this aircraft. While I'm on it, my word is law."
He turned to Melinda May.
"May, set a new course. Maximum speed to those coordinates."
"Roger." Without another word May pushed the yoke forward.
The wings tilted; engines roared as the Bus carved a wide arc through the clouds, racing toward the mysterious coordinates.
Skye flopped back into her seat, cheeks puffed in anger.
She watched the bustle around her, feeling like an outsider.
"Fine... if you won't listen to reason..."
Skye bit her lip, fingers creeping to her wristwatch.
She fired off a message through the watch's encrypted channel.
[Operation obstructed. Coulson forcing course change, target coords 49.27.41.-80.3.40. Suspected Nick Fury hideout. – Skye]
...Time returns to the present.
New York, Midtown Manhattan.
The former Avengers Tower, now Vought Tower.
A giant "V" logo crowned the rooftop.
Inside, renovation crews worked at full swing.
But Tony's original lab had been specially designated by Homelander as the "Stark Independent R&D Center."
At the moment Tony wore safety goggles, welding torch in hand, fine-tuning a bizarre-looking mechanical assembly.
"This is insane..."
He muttered to himself while studying a holographic blueprint, eyes gleaming with the fervor unique to scientists.
"Neural overclocking... temporal-perception warping... using the spine as both heat-sink and conduit core..."
"The concept ditches exoskeleton protection entirely, chasing extreme human augmentation."
"Brutal, but—damn—brilliant."
Cursed by knowledge, Tony instantly grasped the tech's potential.
Solve rejection and neural load, and humanity jumps to the next evolutionary tier.
"Still, the original design's savage."
Tony grabbed a stylus and slashed several X's across the drawing.
"No need to rip out the spine; we can do surface neural bridging with nano-assist..."
In his mind the first sketch of "Mark-grade Sandevistan" was already taking shape.
Clack, clack—footsteps.
Homelander walked in, two coffees in hand.
"Up all night again, Chief Scientist?"
"Couldn't sleep," Tony replied without looking up. "The toy you gave me is fascinating."
"Looks like you're cracking it. Any chance of mass production?"
"Mass production?" Tony lifted the goggles and rubbed bloodshot eyes. "Technically yes, but the original's too brutal—users will likely go insane. I'm refining the neural dampeners and swapping metal interfaces for bio-gel."
"If it works..." Tony's eyes lit, "any Joe could curb-stomp Captain America—ten glorious seconds at a time."
"That's all I need."
Homelander nodded, satisfied.
"Split Sandevistan into two lines. Military and civilian."
"Civilian?" Tony frowned. "For what—rushing supermarket egg sales?"
"To let everyday people feel evolved," Homelander smiled. "Even if it's just faster gaming reflexes, they'll pay."
"You're a capitalist through and through." Tony shook his head but didn't object.
"Understand, Tony—superheroes can't stay untouchable forever.
If we hoard the tech, the public will fear us, brand us freaks.
Only when the people evolve alongside us will they support us without reservation.
Heroes come from the people and must return to them—that's Vought's philosophy."
Tony stayed silent a moment.
"You're a scary man, Anthony." He sighed. "Run for U.S. President someday and you've got my vote."
"One more thing, Tony."
"What?"
"About your identity."
Homelander tapped the Mark 43 displayed in the glass case.
"Vought's registered-hero roster is still missing its most important name."
"Iron Man."
Tony fell silent.
He set down his tools and looked at Homelander.
"We've talked about this, Anthony."
His voice dropped.
"I'm in no shape to play hero. Really.
Ultron taught me—the harder I try to protect the World, the more I break it.
My head's not right for climbing back into that tin can.
I need quiet—research, inventions. That's my redemption.
Heroics..." he glanced at Homelander, "...are your gig now. You're better at it than I ever was."
Homelander studied him, seeing the weariness, the retreat.
He knew the Ultron debacle had wounded Tony, and with the Avengers dissolved, the man needed time to lick his wounds.
"All right."
Homelander exhaled, letting it go.
Forcing the armor on a reluctant heart would fail the system anyway. There'd be time.
"If that's your choice, I respect it.
This lab's always yours. Tell Ashley whatever you need."
"Thanks." Tony lifted his coffee in salute.
Alert! Special popularity value +2,000! (From Tony Stark)