Stark Industries' decision to shut down its weapons division was the hottest topic on television.
In a viral segment, a flamboyant talk show host leaned forward with an exaggerated grin, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Stark Industries is closing its weapons department, huh? Let's take a wild guess at what happens next!" he declared theatrically.
With a dramatic flourish, he placed a ceramic cup on the desk, pulled out a baseball bat from under the table, and, with one swift motion, smashed the cup into shards.
"This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when a weapons manufacturer stops making weapons," he said, nodding sagely as if he had just imparted profound wisdom.
Nick Fury sighed heavily and turned off the screen.
These so-called analysts were always running their mouths.
As if they had any idea of the bigger picture.
"You look exhausted. Our 'big mess' give you a nice little surprise? Do you regret it?" A voice, laced with amusement, cut through the dimly lit room.
Fury glanced up. "You're here."
Ethan stood casually in front of him, hands tucked into his coat pockets.
"Why regret, Fury? If not for you, Tony Stark wouldn't have been rescued so easily."
Fury knew Ethan was right.
If Mystique hadn't staged that appearance as Stark, their enemies would have stayed hidden.
Instead, they made mistakes.
One suspicious communication was all it took for S.H.I.E.L.D. to pinpoint Tony's location.
The military swept in before Stark could collapse from exhaustion in the desert.
"No regrets," Fury muttered, shaking his head.
Tony's press conference was unexpected, sure, but not world-ending.
The kid had a knack for being unpredictable.
Stark Industries, for all its technological prowess, was built on a foundation of arms manufacturing.
Shutting that down overnight?
Impossible.
Contracts had to be honored, penalties paid, stocks stabilized.
Even if Tony was serious about this change, it would take time.
And if Stark's former weapons engineers found themselves out of a job?
Well, Fury had plans for that, too. It wouldn't hurt to pick up some talent—and maybe a few patents—while the dust settled.
"So? What's this about?" Ethan knocked on the desk, snapping Fury out of his thoughts.
"Official business." Fury slid a folder and a small black notebook across the table.
"Your position's confirmed. Congratulations, you're now a legitimate S.H.I.E.L.D. employee."
Ethan opened the folder and scanned the title. "'Special Security Consultant'? Wasn't I supposed to be heading the Anti-Hulk Emergency Response Team?"
"That's just to keep the World Security Council happy," Fury said flatly.
"The team exists, sure, and you'll have control over it. But this title gives you flexibility. You're not tied down like a regular agent."
Ethan flipped through the pages. "So, I got a promotion?"
"That's right. Comes with a nice pay bump too."
"Well, that's not bad." Ethan smirked slightly as he signed the document.
He handed it back, but Fury just gave him a cryptic smile.
"And that's it?" Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Not quite." Fury leaned forward. "Your clearance level is now nine. Outside of me and a select few, no one else has access to your files.
You're off the books. As for S.H.I.E.L.D. agent rankings, they don't apply to you. But you have Level Five inquiry access, meaning you can dig into files up to that classification."
Ethan nodded. "Got it. So, am I free to go now?"
"One more thing." Fury's tone turned serious. "What's your take on Tony escaping before the military got to him?"
Ethan paused, considering. "It's strange. No way he got out on his own.
Either someone helped him, or he used something—some kind of tech. Maybe both."
Fury nodded. "That's what I figured, too. We combed through the wreckage of the terrorist hideout. They evacuated in a hurry, left a mess behind.
Our reconstruction suggests a small-scale battle went down. It's likely Tony built something—a weapon, maybe—using the materials those idiots gave him."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Let me guess—he built a suit."
Fury smirked. "Bingo. He cobbled together a crude, armored exoskeleton and tore through those bastards."
Ethan let out a low whistle. "Took him three months to put together a war machine and fight his way out? Damn. Gotta admit, the guy's a genius."
Fury leaned back, watching Ethan closely. "And now?"
Ethan sighed. "Now, you're interested in what he built. You wouldn't be bringing this up otherwise."
"You're catching on," Fury said, his expression unreadable. "That suit? It was just a prototype. I guarantee you—Tony's working on something even better.
"And that's your interest." Ethan finish,
"Honestly, I'm more interested in the energy source than the armor itself," Fury stated, his voice calm but focused.
"From the intensity of that battle, there's no way any conventional battery could have powered that suit for even a minute, let alone long enough for Stark to escape. Which means… Tony must have developed a new energy source."
As he spoke, he pulled out a worn folder from his desk, flipping it open to reveal aged documents and schematics.
"Following this theory, I did some digging into Stark Industries' technological patents. Turns out, Howard Stark was researching arc reactor technology over thirty years ago. But due to the limitations of the time, the project was shelved and buried."
"So you're saying Tony managed to complete his father's work, and that's what really has you interested," Ethan summarized, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.
"Partially. But I'm not the only one interested," Fury admitted. "A powerful energy source like that would completely revolutionize military weapons. It could spark a new arms race."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You don't want it falling into the wrong hands."
"Exactly. I don't need that kind of tech myself, but I sure as hell can't let it slip through Tony Stark's fingers into someone else's. That's why I need to confirm if this thing is real. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Ethan exhaled sharply. "Yeah, but why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I need to get close enough to Tony to scan his chest, see what's really powering that suit. You can help me with that."
"Hold up." Ethan raised a hand. "Last I checked, I was here to deal with the Hulk. What does this have to do with the Hulk?"
"Nothing," Fury replied bluntly.
"…Then why the hell am I involved?"
Fury smirked and tapped the thick contract in his hand. "Because, as of today, you're officially a special security consultant for S.H.I.E.L.D. And according to Article 233, you're required to assist with intelligence operations when necessary."
Ethan's eye twitched. "Are you serious? You tricked me?"
"You should have read the fine print." Fury shrugged, flipping to the exact page and pointing at the clause in question.
Ethan groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I swear, I agreed to two days of work and a year off. How the hell did I get roped into this mess?"
Fury's smirk widened. "That's what happens when you sign contracts without reading them."
Ethan shot him a glare.
He briefly considered quitting on the spot—until he remembered he'd already spent the advance salary S.H.I.E.L.D. had paid him.
Fury, reading the conflict in Ethan's expression, chuckled to himself before continuing. "Right now, Tony's locked himself in his lab. The only people who can see him are Pepper Potts and Obadiah Stane.
I already sent Coulson to try using Miss Potts to gain access, but she wasn't very cooperative."
"So, what, you need a reason she can't refuse?" Ethan guessed. "Like a doctor who can 'save' Tony?"
"Exactly."
Ethan blinked. "Wait. You're not seriously expecting me to pretend to be a doctor, are you?"
Fury waved him off. "Of course not. Your skill set is… let's just say, not suited for delicate medical work."
"Damn right," Ethan muttered. "If I slip up, I'd probably end up tearing out his heart instead."
"That's why you're just the backup plan," Fury clarified before sliding a photo across the table. It was a picture of a red-haired woman.
Ethan's eyes widened. "Jean Grey?"
"Bingo," Fury confirmed. "She's one of the few mutants who's publicly acknowledged and relatively cooperative with government agencies.
According to our research, her telekinetic abilities should allow her to extract the shrapnel in Stark's body safely."
Ethan studied the picture before nodding. "Makes sense. Though, if we're talking about metal manipulation, there's another guy who'd be even better suited for the job."
Fury sighed. "Yeah, I thought about him too. But let's be real—that guy isn't exactly an easy option."
"No argument there." Ethan smirked. "So you want me to reach out to Professor X and Jean Grey, get them on board with your plan?"
"That's the idea," Fury confirmed. "If Jean agrees, Coulson will take her to Stark under the guise of medical treatment.
While she's keeping him distracted, we'll run a discreet scan to see what's really in his chest."
Ethan scratched his chin. "Alright, I get the plan. But before I go, there's something I've been dying to ask."
Fury raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"…Are you sure you and Tony Stark aren't secretly related?"
Fury's face went blank. "→_→"
Ethan joke, he already knew the reason but want to watch Fury reaction to it.
"Kidding, kidding. But seriously, you're looking out for Stark a lot. You saved his ass in the Middle East, and now you're making sure he doesn't accidentally kill himself with whatever he built in that cave."
Fury exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "Howard Stark was my first boss. He gave me my first job."
Ethan's grin faded slightly. "I see." he muttered pretending to be shocked.
Fury reached into his drawer, pulling out another old photo and sliding it toward Ethan.
The picture showed a young Howard Stark standing beside a blonde woman, surrounded by children holding a banner that read: 'Congratulations on the opening of the Howard Welfare Institution!'
Ethan's breath hitched. "Wait a second…"
"That's right," Fury said quietly. "Howard Stark wasn't the cold, heartless man Tony believes he was.
He had his flaws, sure. But he also built an orphanage and helped more people than his son will ever know."
Ethan clenched his fists. "And yet Tony still bad-mouths him every chance he gets."
Fury smirked. "People grow at their own pace. Some just take longer than others."
Ethan scoffed. "Sounds like you're not just talking about Tony."
Ethan exhaled through his nose, then stood up. "Fine. I'll talk to Professor X and Jean Grey. But whether they agree to help or not—that's on them. I'm just the messenger."
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