Jeanne didn't linger long after the moment they shared.
Once she left, Shen He lay back down, mind adrift with scattered thoughts. The weight of recent events pressed down on him, and before long, exhaustion took over.
He didn't know how much time had passed. But when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the serene smile of the saint standing beside his bed.
"Good morning, Master."
"Jeanne d'Arc... when did you get here?" Shen He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from sleep.
His vision was hazy, and seeing such a beautiful face right after waking made him wonder if he was still dreaming.
"I arrived just a moment ago. But there are people waiting outside to meet you." Jeanne spoke calmly, her expression steady. "Mr. Rogers believes your presence is necessary."
"Agents?" Shen He asked, sitting up.
"Yes. A dozen or so of them, all experienced in field operations." Jeanne turned her head slightly, her cheeks subtly tinted. "I'll wait outside while you prepare, Master."
"Alright." Shen He nodded, sensing her quiet fluster but not in the mood to tease her this time.
Steve Rogers had moved faster than expected. Or maybe these agents had found their own way here—driven by instinct, desperation, or perhaps hope.
Either way, if Chaldea was to establish a complete intelligence and logistics network, meeting them face-to-face was essential.
After a quick shower and putting on formal wear, Shen He carefully adjusted his hair and composed his expression in front of the mirror.
From this point onward, he would face the world as a true leader—not just a strategist in the shadows, but the visible head of a new order.
He stepped out and saw only Jeanne waiting at the door. The morning sun was faint, the sky still pale blue. Shi and Violet were likely still asleep.
"Does Master need anything from me?" Jeanne asked gently, eyes warm as she looked over his refined appearance.
She could see it clearly—her master was changing, growing more commanding with each day.
"Just stay by my side," Shen He replied with a calm smile.
They walked together into the main hall.
Inside, silence fell. All eyes turned toward them the moment Shen He entered. Seated among the assembled were Steve Rogers and roughly a dozen agents—each bearing scars of battle, exhaustion, and loss.
"I heard you were looking for me?" Shen He said, moving with unhurried confidence. He sat at the center sofa, his posture upright, hands folded naturally before him. The faint pressure of his gaze settled over the group like mist.
Even he didn't realize—his presence already exuded the authority of command.
It mattered.
"Mr. Shen," one of the agents—Hilter—spoke first, stepping forward as representative. "Captain Rogers said you'd be willing to accept us."
"Is that so?" Shen He glanced at Steve with mild surprise. "Captain, I may need to clarify. I never said anything about containment. What I offered was employment."
"Employment?" scoffed a white man with short blond hair, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I knew it. Just another glorified security gig for billionaires. You all jumping ship now that S.H.I.E.L.D. is toast? Where's the pride of being agents?"
Shen He looked at him calmly, unfazed. "What's your name?"
"Lance Hunt. Level 6 field agent, S.H.I.E.L.D." He shrugged. "I'm just being honest. I thought this place might be different."
"I'm not sure what you expected." Shen He's gaze swept across them, sharp and searching. "But originally, after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collapse, the one to receive you would have been Fury or Coulson."
The room went still. Faces hardened. Except for Agent Hill, everyone appeared stunned.
"Original plan?" Lance narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'original'? Are you saying S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall was planned? What kind of plan is that?"
To many of them, the events of the last 24 hours had been a blur—betrayals, hidden Hydra agents, a battle that erupted from within, and then news that Fury was dead. The government had disavowed them. They were fugitives now, not heroes.
And here stood someone implying it had all been orchestrated.
"The name of the plan," came Hill's voice as she rose from her seat, "is Phoenix Nirvana."
All heads turned toward her. She stood tall and resolute, making sure her gaze met every agent in the room.
"I was informed of the plan at 3:40 yesterday afternoon," she said. "Director Fury told me personally. Alexander Pierce—the man who sat on the World Security Council—was Hydra's supreme leader. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been under Hydra's influence for seventy years. The only way to save it... was to burn it down."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Fury's emergency broadcast had warned of Hydra's infiltration, but not even they had expected someone as high up as Pierce to be their true commander. To think that S.H.I.E.L.D.—the very agency they dedicated their lives to—had been controlled by the enemy since its founding?
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
"I didn't know Fury gave it such a poetic name," Shen He added, his tone dry. "But yes—Phoenix Nirvana was my brainchild. I proposed it. Directed it. Last night's battle followed its outline to the letter. That's how we won. And Alexander Pierce? He's been eliminated."
The agents turned instinctively to Hill, seeking confirmation. Her subtle nod—and the flicker of respect in her gaze—spoke volumes.
They turned back to Shen He, expressions shifting. Wariness. Curiosity. A few even had the beginnings of awe in their eyes.
"Who exactly are you people?" someone finally asked.
"A good question," Shen He said, rising from his seat.
"You'll have time to learn. For now, those who are willing to join this new S.H.I.E.L.D. Bureau—Captain Rogers will take command temporarily. Your first assignment is the rescue of Agent Coulson. Those who decline—feel free to leave. I have other priorities today. Steve, I leave the rest to you."
With that, Shen He turned and exited the room, Jeanne silently following behind.
This wasn't about appearances or manipulation. Chaldea didn't need a spy agency—but it helped. Still, Shen He knew where his real power came from.
It wasn't agents or politics or weapons.
It was the servants who stood by him—the heroic spirits summoned through the Grail, the living legends reshaping reality with every step.
That was his true strength.
And now… it was time to move forward.