The table was surrounded by twenty representatives from both sides. Tony remained silent, his gaze shifting to Hill. Though Alexander Pierce wielded the true power within S.H.I.E.L.D., Maria Hill, as the acting Director, still held significant influence.
As the meeting's moderator, Hill began by formally welcoming Hong Fei and his entourage before cutting straight to the point.
"As the founding organization of the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. will oversee the team's development planning and provide logistical support moving forward. However, the Avengers retain full autonomy over their decisions. Today, Coulson and I are here solely as observers. We will not interfere with the Avengers' internal affairs."
Her tone was stern, her expression unyielding. After delivering her statement, she leaned back in her chair, signaling the end of her contribution.
"Told you they were just here for show," Hong Fei remarked dryly.
Tony took the reins, turning to Hong Fei.
"Let's cut to the chase. This meeting is about formalizing a long-term, stable, and cooperative relationship. As for the details of the agreement—Jarvis."
At his command, a three-dimensional holographic screen materialized above the center of the table, displaying the agreement's text in crisp detail. Just as Tony began to walk through the document, Hong Fei interrupted.
"Save it. I've already read the entire thing. There's no need to waste time going over it line by line. But I do have an issue with the member exchange program."
Tony's brow furrowed. The exchange program was the cornerstone of the agreement—everything else was secondary.
"What's the problem?" he asked tightly.
"You spelled out the basics well enough," Hong Fei said. "One exchange at a time, lasting a minimum of three months, at least twice a year. That's fine. But the fine print you tacked on at the end? Unacceptable."
Tony's face remained impassive, though inwardly he relaxed. As long as Hong Fei wasn't outright rejecting the exchange program, there was room to negotiate.
"If there's an issue, we can discuss it. That's what this meeting is for."
Hong Fei shook his head.
"No discussion. Either scrap those clauses entirely or cancel the whole program."
Tony's expression darkened, and the other Avengers mirrored his unease. Hong Fei, however, remained calm and unreadable. So, what was in those contentious details? Nothing extraordinary, really. They were standard provisions regarding the treatment, training, and operational involvement of exchanged members—basic rights guaranteed to anyone joining the opposing team.
Initially, Hong Fei hadn't objected to these terms. To him, they were inconsequential. After all, the combined benefits of all eight Avengers paled in comparison to what anyone on his side received. But Wenwu had raised a valid point. First, in terms of strength, Hong Fei's team held an undeniable advantage. While the agreement framed their collaboration as a partnership, it was closer to charity.
Hong Fei never felt he could learn anything from the Avengers. On the contrary, the current Avengers could stand to learn a great deal from him—like what rules were and what a team truly meant. Second, the Avengers were a semi-official entity, a status unlikely to change, while Hong Fei's organization was entirely private.
Wenwu's deduction was clear: the Avengers would inevitably clash with those politicians, and when they did, Hong Fei's people would be dragged into the fray. The agreement had been drafted entirely by the Avengers, yet Hong Fei's side accepted every term without protest.
The gesture reeked of sincerity—too much sincerity. It made the other side uneasy, like they were being set up for a trap. Wenwu had opposed signing anything from the start. In his eyes, the Avengers weren't worth the paper their agreement was printed on.
His stance was domineering, his analysis razor-sharp. But after Hong Fei laid out his reasons, Wenwu relented—though he still nitpicked every clause. Sometimes opposition for opposition's sake wasn't entirely pointless.
Tony frowned.
"I don't follow. These clauses don't infringe on team privacy or undermine your authority. What's the problem?"
Hong Fei didn't answer. He leaned back, and another voice cut in.
"The agreement's clear enough. No need to gild the lily."
Wenwu's tone was ice-calm.
Tony turned.
"These are just clarifying details for the main clauses."
"Then they're redundant."
"Standard procedure."
Wenwu didn't blink.
"I don't follow your procedures."
Tony's jaw tightened.
"Do you even have final say here?"
Hong Fei interjected.
"He does."
Every eye in the room snapped to Wenwu.
Hong Fei continued, "Let me introduce Wenwu. He's from the same place as me—though you can probably tell he's older. By about a thousand years."
A ripple of shock crossed the Avengers' faces.
"Oh, and you might recall Tony's little incident last year," Hong Fei added. "An American terrorist tried to overthrow your president, pinned it on the Ten Rings, and even slapped a label on them."
He paused deliberately.
Wenwu smiled, genteel as a Renaissance portrait. "Gentlemen, I am Wenwu. Leader of the Ten Rings."
The revelation hit like a thunderclap. As they reassessed the man before them, Tony recovered first.
"The Ten Rings are terrorists," he shot back.
Wenwu didn't flinch.
"Child, engage your brain before speaking."
Tony stiffened. No one had ever called him "child" before. Hong Fei barely suppressed a laugh.
Tony's voice turned venomous.
"Am I wrong? I've seen the files. The Ten Rings don't exactly have a clean record."
"'Seems,' 'files'—how tedious."
Wenwu's lip curled.
"I know terrorism. The groups I've dealt with would haunt your nightmares."
He leaned forward.
"Centuries ago, I walked North America when it belonged to the tribes. Then your ancestors came. Slaughtered them. Built a nation on genocide."
His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Sound familiar?"
Silence. Even Steve flinched. History, after all, was unkind to victors.
I heard that later, people like you stepped onto that continent and slaughtered everywhere, and only then did you have this country established by the descendants of a group of genocide perpetrators. Am I right?
Few spoke openly about the past, except for those brainwashed groups who clung to their distorted narratives. Most knew the truth and avoided discussing such matters with outsiders. Wenwu, however, showed no such restraint. His words struck like a hammer, branding them all as descendants of genocide perpetrators. In the United States, where racial tensions were a powder keg, his accusation hit hard.
The more fragile a truth, the sharper its sting. Wenwu's gaze swept the room, landing on Rhodes, Luke Cage, and Sam. He pointed at each in turn.
"Not you."
Hong Fei smirked. Their ancestors had likely been tending watermelons or picking cotton back then.
Rhodes and Luke Cage's jaws tightened. They glanced at Hong Fei, then lowered their heads. Sam, the rookie, seethed silently, careful not to let his anger show. Tony, however, wasn't one to stay quiet. He slammed the table and shot to his feet.
"Do you have any idea what you're saying? This is an insult to all of us!"
"Is it?"
Wenwu crossed his arms, cutting Tony off mid-sentence.
"If a few words can insult you, it only proves you've been struck where it hurts. Or perhaps, despite your appearances, you're still infants, crying when the milk runs dry."
Tony jabbed a finger at Wenwu.
"You don't know the first thing about empathy! All you do is dig up old wounds and revel in others' pain!"
Wenwu chuckled.
"Interesting. Scars require wounds first. Did I inflict those wounds?"
Tony glared.
"Your words make me sick!"
"The stench coming from you," Wenwu replied coolly, "is no different from those bandits back then—ignorant, arrogant, shameless, and stupid."
Tony froze, momentarily speechless. Wenwu pressed on.
"I killed many of them back then. Who knows? Maybe one of the ants I crushed underfoot was your ancestor."
Tony exploded. Hong Fei watched Wenwu with newfound respect. He'd expected a man of few words, but Wenwu's verbal precision was razor-sharp. Why call him Wenwu? He was Wen the Roaster.
As Tony moved to summon his armor, ready to brawl with Wenwu for the next three hundred rounds, Steve finally intervened. He rose quickly, holding Tony back while murmuring reassurances. A glance at Coulson sent the agent darting forward to escort Tony away.
Steve cleared his throat.
"Hong, let's talk instead."
Hong Fei nodded with a smile. The Avengers side swiftly amended the detailed regulations on member exchange, and both parties signed the agreement. Though Tony wasn't present, his signature was a foregone conclusion.
With the agreement finalized, the first round of member exchange began. The Avengers proposed Daredevil, Matt Murdock, a rookie who'd joined their ranks early through sheer luck. Hong Fei, Frank, and Wenwu exchanged quick glances. This matched their earlier speculation perfectly.
On their side, Hong Fei nominated Yelena. It made sense—he'd previously mentioned sending young Black Widows to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. Many had already succeeded in entering the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, and now it was time to send a leader to oversee their progress. If Hong Fei hadn't wanted to overdo it, he might have even pushed for Natasha to join them.
The meeting concluded. Though the process had been tense, the outcome wasn't bad. As Hong Fei brushed past Tony on his way out, he heard the man deliberately snort.
Tony muttered, "Just wait and see."
"Next time, I'll come myself and dig out every last one of your dirty little secrets!"
Hong Fei's lips curled into a vicious grin.
"Next time I show up, I'll give you a proper demonstration of what real hell looks like."