Anton frowned. "Skrulls can shapeshift. Why do you think Nick Fury really left?"
"Because I've been tracking his position through surveillance," Tony said, spreading his hands. "Come on, you don't think I'd overlook something that obvious, do you?"
He paused for a moment, then confidently explained, "Jarvis processes data faster than any supercomputer in the world. The surveillance cameras in New York constantly compare facial recognition data with big datasets. If someone doesn't belong, I'll find them."
As he spoke, Jarvis projected realistic images around Anton. The faces kept shifting, but one figure remained unchanged—marked by a red halo, like hostile recognition in a video game.
"So, do you know where the guy pretending to be Nick Fury is?" Anton's eyes lit up.
"Not bad." Tony nodded. "He's in an apartment building in Brooklyn. Looks like one of their safe houses."
"Give me the location, and I'll verify your guess." Anton stepped forward.
"No." Tony shook his head. "I'm coming with you."
Anton shrugged. "Whatever you want."
The two took the elevator down to the garage.
"Take my car."
Tony slid into the driver's seat and looked over at Anton. "Yours isn't as fast as mine."
Anton sighed, not bothering to argue. He opened the passenger door and got in.
The engine roared to life—buzzing—before the modified Audi sports car shot forward, flames spitting from the exhaust.
Meanwhile…
Agent Z, second-in-command of the Men in Black, faced Maria Rambeau in a spacious room. They were alone.
"I'm Agent Z, Men in Black," he introduced himself. "Ms. Maria Rambeau, I think you know why I'm here."
After a brief pause, he continued, "The Skrulls pose a serious threat to humanity. You claim Nick Fury took them all off-world, but our intel says otherwise."
Maria shook her head. "I don't know anything. But if the Skrulls are still here, you should know they're far smarter than you think. Their fear of humans runs deeper than you can imagine. I doubt they'd be reckless."
"Fear of humans?" Z frowned, not quite understanding her meaning.
"I'm not here to argue with you," he said after a moment. "But if what you're saying is true, do you have any advice?"
Maria hesitated. "Not much. Even though the Skrulls have lived on Earth for years, Nick Fury and I never gave them the full trust you think we did. Under our watch, they've always followed the rules."
"And have you considered that the ones you've dealt with are just a fraction of the Skrulls here?" Z countered. "The Skrulls are refugees. Their homeworld is gone, and they've scattered across the universe. Who's to say other groups haven't found their way to Earth—with their own agenda?"
Maria fell silent. She had no immediate counterargument. Skrulls were, after all, the ultimate spies.
"You know I have a daughter," she said suddenly.
Z nodded. "Yes, Monica Rambeau. I know her. Is there a problem?"
"I can't give you more advice, but Monica can."
With that, Maria stood up and, escorted by the guard at the door, returned to her separate prison cell.
Z didn't stop her. He had already gotten the information he wanted.
"Monica Rambeau..." he murmured. His expression remained calm, but a glint of excitement flickered in his eyes.
Just as he suspected, Maria had taken precautions against the Skrulls, the cosmic refugee race.
New York. Brooklyn.
A seemingly ordinary apartment building.
Tony's flashy sports car roared down the street, its loud exhaust echoing through the block.
Passersby turned their heads.
Anton sighed, exasperated. "If you drive like that, the whole apartment building will hear us coming."
"So what?" Tony shrugged. "I've had Jarvis monitoring this place. The guy hasn't left since he walked in."
"Never left?" Anton's gut twisted with unease.
"Move!"
The second Tony parked, Anton flung open the door and sprinted toward the apartment.
"Wait, what's wrong?" Tony frowned, still not sensing anything amiss but hurried after him.
Reaching the designated room, Anton didn't hesitate—he kicked the door open.
Inside, the stench hit them first. A Skrull corpse lay sprawled in the small living room, its body already decomposing.
"He's dead." Anton sighed, standing over the body. "We're too late."
"How?" Tony's brows furrowed. "Jarvis was watching him the whole time. No one entered or left since he came in. How does he just end up dead?"
"Suicide?" he muttered to himself.
"It's not suicide. It's murder."
Anton crouched beside the body, his sharp eyes spotting a nearly invisible pinprick on the Skrull's neck.
"Injected poison," he murmured. "Someone got in here and killed him without being detected. But why?"
Tony still looked baffled. "Who would want him dead? The Skrulls fighting each other?"
Anton's eyes lit up. "Infighting... yes, that makes sense."
Tony gave him a questioning look. "Explain."
"What if this Skrull was actually one of Fury's?" Anton theorized. "The Skrulls on Earth could've split into two factions—one that wants to invade in secret, and another loyal to Fury, hoping to coexist with humans."
He exhaled, piecing it together. "For whatever reason, to prevent conflict, Fury left Earth with the Skrulls who sided with him. But that also meant leaving behind the troublemakers…"
A pause.
"And maybe—just maybe—Fury left behind a few trusted Skrulls to keep an eye on things. To warn us."
…
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