Stepping through the portal, Stark glanced around with curiosity.
The office was nothing like he had expected.
Bamboo chairs. A solid wooden table. A few small teacups neatly arranged on top.
If it weren't for the presence of Black Devil, he might have thought he had stepped into some traditional study rather than the lair of the most wanted man in the world.
As the portal gradually faded behind him, Gene followed them in.
At the same time, the nanobots covering his armor were already at work, seamlessly repairing the minor damage he had sustained in the fight against the Kree reconnaissance robot.
"Sir, a special energy signature has been detected on his body," Jarvis's voice rang inside Stark's helmet. "The pattern suggests nanotechnology."
Hearing that, Stark couldn't help but clench his fists slightly.
Nanotech.
The very thing he himself was working on.
The problem was—it was insanely difficult to develop, even for him. His current armor still relied on self-assembly mechanisms, and achieving what Gene had just demonstrated was far beyond his reach.
He felt a twinge of envy as he eyed the smooth, seamless repair process on Gene's armor.
"So, uh…" Stark cleared his throat. "Mind filling me in? Because right now, I feel like the dumbest guy in the room."
"Mr. Black Devil." Mar-Vell spoke up, his voice serious. "Since you know my name, you must also understand how dangerous Ronan the Accuser is."
"Ronan is already on his way to Earth."
"You've seen it yourself—the Kree Empire has already sent their advance reconnaissance units."
His expression darkened.
This was just the beginning.
"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Stark interrupted. "Who the hell is this Ronan guy? And the Kree Empire?"
Mar-Vell sighed and began explaining.
The Kree Empire, a vast interstellar civilization spanning multiple star systems.
Their homeworld? Hala, located in the Large Magellanic Cloud.
And the Accusers? Elite enforcers of the Kree Empire, judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one.
Among them, Ronan was the most feared—a warlord obsessed with conquest.
Stark listened, his eyes growing wider and wider.
"So, you're telling me that an entire alien empire has its sights set on Earth?"
"And that giant killer robot we just fought—that was just a scout?"
His stomach twisted with unease.
The Avengers had barely formed, and now he was being told they might be utterly outclassed?
While Stark was still processing this, Gene had already seated himself in his chair.
His mind was elsewhere.
His neural network was actively linking to the S.W.O.R.D. deep-space satellites, scanning for any signs of incoming threats.
Within seconds, he found something.
Seventeen light-years away.
A massive unidentified object was approaching at high speed.
Gene narrowed his eyes.
"Ronan's Dark Aster."
He tapped his fingers against the table, lost in thought.
A plan was already forming in his mind.
Take down the leader—take down the entire operation.
Ronan himself was the key.
If the warlord dared to bring his mothership near Earth, Gene would personally meet him in battle.
And see if he was strong enough to challenge one of the Kree Empire's so-called gods of war.
The soft tapping of his fingers against the table caused Mar-Vell to pause mid-sentence.
Gene turned to him.
"Mr. Black Devil," Mar-Vell said, his voice serious. "You understand how dangerous Ronan is. So tell me—what's your plan?"
Gene didn't answer right away.
Instead, he snapped his fingers.
A holographic screen instantly materialized in front of them.
For a moment, Stark was distracted—not by the screen, but by the finger snap.
Where had he seen that before?
The thought disappeared as soon as he laid eyes on what the holographic display showed.
At the center, a symbol caught his attention—a sleek, sharp arrow-like emblem.
And beneath it—
" Sentient World Observation and Response Division Bureau… S.W.O.R.D.?"
Stark muttered the words out loud.
In his opinion, that name was way cooler than S.H.I.E.L.D.
He was not a fan of playing defense. He liked being proactive.
And from what he could see, S.W.O.R.D. was exactly that.
The holographic screen shifted—
Live footage from all across the world.
Anomalies. Strange incidents. Teams in action.
Stark's eyes widened.
"This is…?"
"Yes," Gene said calmly. "This is what S.W.O.R.D. does. We monitor. We protect."
Stark saw strike teams deploying.
He saw mutants neutralizing threats.
He saw covert operations carried out with precision.
And just like that—his entire worldview was shaken.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had always presented itself as the world's only protector against the unknown.
But here was something even bigger.
Something that had been operating in the shadows all along.
Watching. Analyzing. Controlling.
"Who do you think you are?" Stark's voice was sharp. "Sitting in the shadows, deciding the fate of the world from behind the scenes?"
Gene finally turned to him.
"If it weren't for me," he said evenly, "do you really think you—and the so-called Avengers—could stop Ronan?"
Stark opened his mouth—then closed it.
Because he knew the answer.
As much as he hated to admit it, the Avengers weren't ready for something like this.
They had barely come together as a team, and now an entire intergalactic warlord was en route to Earth?
They were not enough.
Stark clenched his jaw.
"Even if you're right," he said, shaking his head, "I don't agree with your methods. You're playing with fire."
Gene simply shrugged.
"I don't need you to agree with me."
His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
"I'll prove it my own way."
Before Stark could respond, the air beside them began to distort.
A ripple in space—
And suddenly, a new figure was seated across from them.
A bald man with a dark trench coat.
His one good eye immediately locked onto Mar-Vell.
"Well, well," Nick Fury said smoothly. "Welcome to my office."
"Coffee or tea?"
There was no emotion on his face, but his piercing gaze lingered on Mar-Vell for a few extra seconds.
Mar-Vell let out a deep sigh.
"We don't have time for this," he muttered.
"There's something extremely important we need to report."
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T/N:
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