Jason Wayne exhaled sharply as the holographic displays in his Gotham lab flickered off. The last twelve hours had been spent analyzing HYDRA's latest movements—cell locations, weapon shipments, even whispers of a new "Project Eclipse." But raw intel wasn't enough.
"Alfred," he said, tapping his earpiece. "Scrub the data. And those 'guests' in our basement?"
"The HYDRA operatives, sir?" Alfred's dry tone crackled through. "Already en route to a… chilly reception in Siberia. The others—corporate spies—are enjoying a lovely stay at Blackgate Penitentiary."
Jason smirked. "Good. Tell Lucius I need the 'Aegis Protocol' prepped by tonight."
He strode toward the armory. It was time to meet a legend.
The "Shadow-X" armor awaited him—a matte-black exoskeleton lined with nanotech dampeners (courtesy of reverse-engineered Chitauri tech) and a vibranium-weave underlay. Not for combat. For secrets.
"Skynet," Jason muttered. The AI's interface flared to life inside his retinal display.
"Systems nominal. Cloak engaged."
A shudder as the armor's optical camo activated, bending light around him like liquid shadow.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s got new toys. Can we bypass them?"
"Probability of detection: 17%. Their ultrasonic grid is… problematic."
Jason grimaced. "Then we'll be quick."
With a roar of repulsors, he shot into the night.
New York's skyline glittered below as Jason circled S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fortress. The Triskelion's defenses were infamous: motion-tracked turrets, gamma-wave scanners, even psychic dampeners (courtesy of a certain Doctor's advice).
"Master, they've pinged us," Skynet warned.
"How?!"
"Subsonic resonance. Their entire structure's a tuning fork."
Jason cursed. Fury's paranoia was next-level.
"Override it."
"Already done. But hurry—they'll notice the glitch."
Diving toward a service hatch, Jason phased through via short-range teleportation (a gift from a rogue sorcerer in Kathmandu).
Nick Fury's office smelled of gun oil and burnt coffee. The man himself scowled at a hologram of Antarctic ice cores—until the door hissed open.
"I said no damn donuts," Fury growled.
Silence.
His eye twitched. No footsteps. Instincts screaming, he palmed the hidden plasma pistol under his desk—
"That won't work, Director."
A voice from inside the room. Fury's blood went cold.
Ripples in the air. The intruder materialized: black armor, a featureless mask, and the presence of a predator.
Fury's finger hovered over the panic button. "Who the hell are you?"
"A concerned citizen," the figure said. "Call me Prophet."
Fury snorted. "Prophets don't break into secure facilities."
"And S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't let HYDRA fester in its ribs," Prophet shot back.
Fury's eye narrowed. "Prove it."
Jason's mask retracted, revealing his face—just for a second. Long enough to see Fury's shock.
"Jason Wayne? Bruce's kid?" Fury's voice dripped skepticism. "You're supposed to be dead."
"Funny. So are you," Jason said, tapping his wrist. A hologram flared: blueprints of a S.H.I.E.L.D. bunker in New Mexico—stocked with Chitauri weapons.
"Your 'secure' Facility Zeta. HYDRA's had access for six months."
Fury's jaw tightened. "Impossible. That bunker's off-grid."
"So was your last secret base," Jason said, flashing footage of HYDRA agents in familiar black armor patrolling the halls.
Silence.
Then Fury did something unexpected. He smiled. "Alright, kid. Talk."
Jason leaned forward. "HYDRA's building something. Code-name: Eclipse. It's not just a weapon—it's a key."
"To what?"
"The Tesseract's twin. And they're days from activation."
Fury's eye darkened. "And you want…?"
"To burn them out. But I need your access to the World Security Council."
A beat. Fury exhaled. "You're asking me to trust a ghost."
"No," Jason said, tossing a S.H.I.E.L.D. badge onto the desk. Fury froze. It was Phil Coulson's old ID—stained with blood.
"I'm asking you to avenge one."