"I was having such a nice afternoon," Jay muttered, watching Fury's face fill the screen.

  Reed stood, straightening his shirt with one hand while the other unconsciously stretched to grab his tablet. "HERBIE, invite them in. And prepare the conference room, please."

  "Acknowledged, Dr. Richards."

  Sue moved to stand beside Reed, Franklin secure in her arms. The baby made a small sound, sensing the shift in atmosphere.

  Domino rose as well, her hand moving unconsciously toward her gun.

  Jay caught the motion and shook his head slightly. "No shooting anyone. Yet."

  "Yet?" Domino's eyebrow arched.

  "Let's see how the conversation goes first."

  The elevator chimed.

  The doors opened, and Nick Fury strode into the Baxter Building like he owned it. His leather coat swept behind him, and the vein on his forehead pulsed with each step. Every line of his body radiated tension, coiled and ready to explode.

  Clint and Natasha flanked him, both looking tired but alert. Maria Hill carried a tablet, her expression professionally neutral. Steve Rogers walked slightly behind, shield and uniform conspicuously absent. And Phil Coulson, miraculously alive and looking only slightly confused about that fact, brought up the rear.

  Reed stepped forward, extending his hand. The movement was slightly awkward, his body still adjusting from the week of constant vigilance. "Director Fury. Captain Rogers. Welcome back to the Baxter Building. Shall we adjourn to somewhere more comfortable to discuss whatever's brought you here?"

  Fury's single eye fixed on Jay with an intensity that could bore through titanium. His jaw worked. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

  When he finally spoke, each word sounded like it was being dragged out of him against his will.

  "First," Fury said, his voice tight, "I need to say something that goes against every goddamn instinct I have."

  Jay's danger sense didn't activate, but his confusion sense was screaming. He tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Fury's eye twitched. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

  Then, like he was spitting out broken glass: "Thank you."

  The silence that followed was profound.

  Jay blinked. His expression cycled through confusion, suspicion, and finally settled on genuine befuddlement. He leaned forward slightly, studying Fury like he was an alien specimen.

  "Wait. What? What's wrong with you?" Jay leaned forward, squinting at Fury. "Are you an imposter?" He turned to Maria Hill, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Is he a you know? Should I be worried about shapeshifters now? Because this is freaking me the hell out."

  Fury's eye twitched.

  Behind him, Clint made a choking sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. Natasha's lips curved slightly. Even Steve's expression cracked into a smile.

  "I am Nicholas J. Fury!" The director's voice rose, then he caught himself. "And I am not a Motherfucking shapeshifter!"

  "Language!" Steve and Sue spoke simultaneously, Steve's voice carrying that particular Captain America brand of gentle rebuke while Sue's maternal instincts flared.

  "We have a baby here," Sue added, shifting Franklin protectively.

  Fury sagged slightly. His soldiers were losing it behind him, Clint actually turning away to hide his grin. The legendary Director of SHIELD, humbled by language police.

  It would have been funny if it wasn't so surreal.

  "Are you having a stroke?" Domino asked seriously. "Should someone call a doctor? Because I'm pretty sure I just heard Nick Fury say thank you, and that can't be right."

  Behind Fury, Clint made another choking sound. Natasha's lips curved dangerously close to a smile.

  Fury's vein pulsed harder. "I am trying," he ground out, "to express gratitude. Don't make me regret it already."

  "But you never... you don't..." Jay gestured helplessly at Fury. "This doesn't compute at all. What the hell happened to our routine? You show up pissed about something I did, I act like I don't care, you make threats you can't follow through on, I offer you something useful, you act like a tsundere, and we part ways until I do the next impossible thing that pisses you off."

  Steve stepped forward, his voice carrying that particular Captain America brand of gentle authority. "Jay, maybe let the man speak?"

  Fury took a breath. Visibly composed himself.

  When he spoke again, his voice had steadied, though his fists remained clenched.

  "Without you, twelve hundred people, including some of my best damn agents, would still be dead. Permanently. Phil, Clint, and hundreds of civilians with families, futures, and people who love them. You brought them back." He paused, the words clearly costing him. "I can't be anything but grateful for that, even if admitting it makes me want to punch something really hard."

  Jay stared.

  His usual masks of power broker, of the man with all the angles slipped. For once, he looked genuinely uncertain how to process positive emotion directed at him without strings attached.

  Coulson stepped forward. His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, where Loki's scepter had punched through. The gesture was subtle but habitual, like checking for a wound that should be there.

  "I need to say this too," Coulson said quietly. His usual dry humor was absent, replaced by something raw. "When I was dead, there was... nothing. Not peace or darkness. Just complete absence of everything. And then everything rushed back at once. Sight, sound, breath and pain." He swallowed hard. "I'm here because of you. I don't know how to thank you for that, but I'm trying."

  Clint was next. His usual cocky demeanor was gone, stripped away by something more vulnerable. "Laura had a panic attack after seeing the broadcast of the battle," he said, his voice rough. "Only calmed down when I called to prove I was alive and not some cruel joke. When she finally came to meet me, she couldn't stop touching my face. Like she thought I'd disappear if she let go." His hands clenched at his sides. "She cried for an hour straight. So yeah. Thank you doesn't cover it, but it's all I've got."

  Natasha moved forward, her green eyes fixed on Jay with an intensity that matched Fury's. "Clint's been my partner for years. The closest thing I have to family." Her voice was soft but carried complete sincerity. "You gave him back to me when I thought he was gone forever. I owe you a debt I can't repay."

  The gratitude sat over Jay like a physical weight.

  Domino's hand settled on his shoulder. The touch grounded him, reminded him he was allowed to accept this without suspicion or deflection.

  Sue, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in conversation and decided to redirect. "What happened in the UN meeting to get you so stressed, Director?"

  Fury's face underwent a transformation. The gratitude vanished like someone had flipped a switch, replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. The vein on his forehead pulsed in rhythm with his jaw clenching.

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  "It was a complete shit show!" The words exploded out of him. "Bureaucrats wanting to get you in one of their meetings to gain popularity by hook or by crook. They don't care about security, protocols or anything except how they can use the man who brought people back from death to boost their approval ratings."

  He began pacing, his coat swirling with each sharp turn. "Not to mention the insurance companies and courts drowning in paperwork from insurance claims of people who died and came back. Do you have any idea what kind of legal nightmare that creates? People who had death certificates, suddenly walking around alive and healthy. We're talking billions in disputed claims. The insurance industry is having a collective meltdown."

  Fury's voice rose steadily. "And worse, we've got new laws being proposed every day. Either for mutant rights or superhuman vigilance, or new clauses about resurrections and afterlife experiences. What happens when someone dies and comes back? Are they legally the same person? Do they retain ownership of their property? What if they saw something in death that changes them fundamentally?"

  He threw his hands up. "And don't get me started on the political angle! The POTUS and other Security Council members are breathing down my neck to make sure they have a one-on-one with you. They want to ride your popularity to the next term. Use you like some kind of campaign prop. 'Vote for me, I'm friends with the man who conquered death!' It's disgusting."

  After his long rant, Fury stopped mid-pace. His shoulders sagged. The legendary spymaster looked exhausted, the kind of bone-deep weariness that comes from fighting battles on too many fronts.

  He moved to one of the conference room chairs and sat heavily, his coat pooling around him.

  For a moment, he just stared at his hands.

  Hill spoke up, her voice carrying dry amusement. "Not to mention the cults."

  Jay's head snapped up. "What? Cult? What are you talking about?"

  Natasha smiled, and the expression was teasing. "Cults, plural. You've spawned multiple religious movements in less than two weeks. They call you Lightbringer or The Honoured One. It's actually impressive from a sociological standpoint. They claim you to be the Harbinger of the Age of Marvel's, God of Life and heroes, while they call your girlfriend the Goddess of Luck. The most popular sermon was about how you made death her bitch."

  Jay's entire body went rigid.

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop. A chill ran down his spine, visceral, like ice water in his veins.

  Lady Death's warning echoed in his mind.

  His hands trembled slightly before he clenched them into fists.

  "Not to mention official religions trying to claim you," Hill continued, consulting her tablet. "The Hindu community is declaring you the Kalki Avatar, the tenth and final incarnation of Vishnu. Multiple Catholic bishops are claiming you might be the second coming of Christ. Some Buddhist monasteries are debating whether you're a Bodhisattva. There's a growing movement in Egypt claiming you're a reborn pharaoh blessed by Anubis."

  Jay pressed both hands to his face, trying to breathe through the embarrassment. "This isn't funny," he said, his voice muffled by his palms. "This is what you don't understand. I can't be worshipped. I can't have people building shrines and calling me a god."

  "The cults are real," Hill said flatly, her amusement fading as she registered Jay's distress. "Your resurrection count hit twelve hundred confirmed cases. That's biblical levels of miracle. People are building shrines in seven countries. The largest following is in Mumbai, approximately three thousand members as of yesterday."

  Jay groaned, embarrassed. "I need to shut this down."

  "How?" Steve asked, smiling. "You can't control how people choose to worship. It's protected by religious freedom laws in most countries."

  Jay went silent, processing this, causing the mood in the conference room to dip.

  Seeing this and trying to change the topic, Steve cleared his throat and gave Jay a moment to collect himself before speaking. "While we are eternally grateful for your help against Loki, that doesn't mean you have the right to detain him yourself. Especially since he committed crimes against humanity. Now every major power wants a piece of him. They want to make him an example, parade him in front of cameras, use him for their own purposes."

  Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out Loki's card.

  The god's face was frozen mid-scream, his features twisted in terror. His mouth formed soundless words, perhaps pleas, perhaps curses. The image was disturbing, a once-powerful being who'd nearly conquered Earth reduced to two dimensions and trapped in Jay's pocket.

  "I just had a word with Odin himself," Jay said calmly, extending the card toward Fury. "And an accord has been reached. Loki will spend his sentence for crimes against humans on Earth. However long that takes. After which, he'll be taken back to Asgard where they'll decide his sentence amongst themselves. Though I must warn you not to test Odin's patience on this matter."

  Fury stood slowly from his chair, moving toward Jay with careful steps. He reached out, and Jay placed the card in his palm.

  The director stared down at the trapped god. His hand trembled—just slightly, but noticeably. The weight of what he was holding seemed to press down on him physically.

  A prince of Asgard. A being who could have destroyed Earth. Reduced to a playing card.

  "Jesus," Fury whispered.

  Then, louder: "How long can you keep him like this?"

  "Indefinitely," Jay said teasingly, remembering the courtroom's reaction to his threat. "Oh, don't tell Thor, but just tear the card, and he'll be back to normal."

  Fury carefully tucked the card into an inner pocket of his coat, treating it like the bomb it essentially was. "Thank you for being understanding. But what about the Tesseract and the Mind Stone you took during the..."

  Fury stopped mid-sentence.

  The temperature in the room dropped. Not physically, but perceptually.

  Everyone felt it.

  All the smile and casualness left Jay's eyes. The transformation was instantaneous. His expression became utterly flat, his eyes hard. The genial young man who'd been embarrassed about cults vanished, replaced by something much more dangerous.

  The Power Broker stared at Fury with an intensity that made the director's instincts scream.

  Steve moved quickly, recognizing the shift. The air felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. He stepped forward with his hands raised in a placating gesture, positioning himself slightly between Jay and Fury.

  "What he means is, as long as you can guarantee that they'll never be exploited against humanity, it'll be easier to get the World Security Council to understand. We're not demanding. We're just asking. For reassurance."

  The tension held for three seconds that felt like minutes.

  Behind Steve, Clint's hand had moved unconsciously toward his weapon. Natasha had shifted her stance, weight on the balls of her feet. Hill's grip on her tablet had tightened. Even Coulson had straightened, ready to move.

  The room held its collective breath.

  Then Jay's expression shifted again. The smile returned like someone had flipped a switch. Casual and friendly, like the previous moment had never happened.

  But everyone in the room had seen it. Had felt it. The reminder that Jay wasn't just powerful, he was dangerous when pushed on certain topics.

  "The stones are safe," Jay said simply. "Safer than SHIELD could keep them. Safer than any government vault. That's all the reassurance you're getting."

  Fury nodded slowly. He knew when to push and when to retreat.

  This was definitely a retreat situation.

  The conversation shifted to lighter topics. Rebuilding efforts. Coordination between SHIELD and various hero teams. The logistics of managing thousands of newly awakened enhanced individuals.

  Reed and Sue excused themselves after twenty minutes, Franklin needing to be fed. Sue gave Jay a warm smile on her way out, a silent message of support.

  Domino stood, stretching. She moved to Jay, leaned down, and spoke quietly in his ear. "Don't do anything stupid without me. And if Fury pushes about the stones again, remember: you don't owe them shit for explanations."

  Jay caught her hand, squeezed once. "I know."

  She smiled, pressed a quick kiss to his temple, and followed Reed and Sue out. The gesture was casual but intimate, a reminder that he wasn't alone even when she left the room.

  Jay watched her go, something in his expression softening.

  Then he turned back to the remaining group, and the Power Broker mask slid back into place.

  That left Jay, Fury, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Hill, and Coulson in the conference room.

  Steve moved to sit across from Jay, his posture open and non-threatening. "Now that we are alone, there's something else we need to discuss. Something that requires discretion."

  "Hydra," Jay said quietly. His voice dropped, losing all traces of levity. "Have they attempted something?"

  Coulson's expression darkened. There was something different about him now—a hardness that hadn't been there before death. Like coming back had burned away some essential softness.

  "No, actually. They're scared. Terrified, even. Same as the rest of the world. The possibility of drawing your attention has them quiet. Very quiet. Too fucking quiet, which makes me nervous, but quiet nonetheless."

  Jay nodded. "How long would it take to form a proper attack?"

  Fury leaned forward, organizing his thoughts. "Xavier was nearly done identifying every Hydra affiliate before the invasion. But this clusterfuck, combined with their plans to hit Sinister simultaneously, caused delays. However, by the end of this month, we'll have everything we need. Every name, every safe house and every financial connection."

  Steve's expression hardened. His hands clasped together on the table, knuckles white. "We're going to deal with Hydra completely, root and stem. No more playing whack-a-mole with cells. We're burning the whole thing down at once, so thoroughly they can never rebuild."

  Jay nodded slowly. The implications were massive. A coordinated strike against Hydra's entire infrastructure would shake the intelligence community to its core.

  But it was necessary.

  "You'll have my support," Jay said. "Whatever you need."

  "I was hoping you'd say that."

  They talked for a few more minutes, discussing logistics and timing.

  Then Jay felt it. A whisper of danger sense, faint but insistent. His head turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows before he consciously registered why.

  Through the glass, across the Manhattan skyline, something caught his eye. Movement that didn't belong. His enhanced vision focused automatically.

  A man with mechanical wings flew across the skyline. The wings were clearly homemade, cobbled together from salvaged Chitauri technology and human engineering. They worked, but barely, sparking and stuttering with each beat.

  Chasing him, swinging through the air on white webbing, was a figure in red and blue. The suit was clearly homemade too; the colors slightly off, the webbing pattern inconsistent.

  But the movement was fluid, natural, enhanced beyond human capability.

  Jay's eyes widened. A grin spread across his face, genuine surprise and delight mixing with something like recognition.

  "Spidey?!"