( 3rd POV )
A few days had drifted by since the catastrophic assault on New York by Magneto and his Brotherhood. The aftermath resonated in a colossal, towering building on Theodore Roosevelt Island, an oasis on the Potomac River straddling the line between Washington, D.C., and Virginia. In one of the rooms high up in this fortress of steel and glass, a man sat alone in contemplation.
The room was minimalist, utilitarian to the core, with steel walls reflecting the dim, moody lighting. A single window looked out over the vast sweep of the Potomac River, its tranquility a stark contrast to the chaos Fury had been mired in. Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., sat behind an imposing steel desk, which was cluttered with holographic displays, classified files, and a half-empty cup of coffee gone cold. His one good eye was glued to the video footage playing out in front of him, each frame deepening the frown etched on his face.
Knock! Knock!
The sudden knock on the door snapped Fury out of his intense scrutiny. The door creaked open to reveal a woman with short black hair, her presence as formidable as the tailored black suit she wore, perfectly hinting at military precision. A sleek sidearm rested in the holster at her side, a testament to her experience and readiness.
It was Maria Hill who entered, her footsteps silent on the reinforced floor. She wore her usual no-nonsense expression, her eyes sharp as she scanned the room.
Knowing who was coming, Fury didn't look up from the video feed playing on his desk. Magneto's attack on New York had left scars—crumbled buildings, scorched streets, and terrified civilians. The Brotherhood's relentless assault was finally thwarted by a group of mysterious figures with the help of the X-Men. He had been watching and analyzing these particular videos and reports since he got the news.
"Sit down, Hill," Fury grunted, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Report."
Hearing her boss' command, Maria took her seat. "I've got news from Romanoff. She has finished handling the Brotherhood members, like Pyro and Banshee," she began. "She's got them secured in a subterranean facility. No chance of escape."
Fury leaned back, fingers steepled. "And the rest of them?"
"Blob and Marrow are confirmed to be dead. After his fight with Wolverine, Sabretooth took the opportunity to flee. Mystique is nowhere to be found, while Azazel and Magneto's current situations are unknown." She paused for a moment before continuing.
"Especially for Magneto—we don't know if he is dead or not. The girl who claims to be a legendary figure from myth shot a destruction beam toward him and his stadium, evaporating them in a second." Maria's lips twitched as she recalled the absurd scene.
"Hmm," Fury seemed lost in thought before he continued to ask, "How is the investigation into the Chaldea people? It's been three days, I need a confirmation," he demanded, his voice carrying a weight of urgency and authority.
Hill hesitated, a rare occurrence for her, and when she spoke, her tone carried the weight of frustrating uncertainty. "This..." she began, but then paused, shaking her head. "Boss, we've done everything we can to investigate those people, but the results are the same. We only managed to find their general information and IDs on the internet, but as we presumed, it was all forged."
Fury, his brow deeply furrowed, listened intently. Hill continued, "We scanned every camera across the entire US, using facial recognition software with records from the last week, even the last year, but we still found nothing. It's as if they either have the power to erase themselves from the internet, or they simply don't exist in the digital world."
As she finished, Fury leaned back in his chair, his expression grim. The room felt even tighter as he grappled with the growing pile of mysteries. The more he delved into their identities, the more questions surfaced, questions that seemed determined to remain unanswered. As the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., facing such an unknown made his skin crawl with anxiety and paranoia.
He let out a heavy sigh, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "We're dealing with terrorists, vampires, werewolves, mutants, and now you're telling me they might be time-traveling historians? What's next—a talking raccoon? Or are you just going to tell me they simply don't exist?" He rubbed his temples rubbing his temples as if to stave off the headache forming from such ludicrous possibilities. The absurdity of the situation gnawed at him, each new piece of information a jagged edge scraping against his carefully maintained sense of control.
Maria's lips twitched, a hint of a wry smile playing at the corners. "Wouldn't surprise me; they could do 'magic' after all."
Fury grunted, sitting up straighter. His mind raced with the implications. "I can't hold the Council off forever, Hill. They want answers. A mysterious organization suddenly appearing wielding unimaginable power is making them anxious," he said, his voice taking on a harder edge as he recalled the heated meeting with the World Security Council.
The members of the Council had been relentless, demanding that S.H.I.E.L.D. provide answers or face the consequences of the Council taking their own actions against Chaldea. Fury had managed to buy them some time, but the pressure on his shoulders was as heavy as ever.
Sensing genuine concern in her boss's weathered features, Hill nodded, her own sense of duty and urgency heightened. "I know, boss, but currently, we don't have any way to deal with this magical problem. Magic needs magic to solve it; that's our reality now."
Even as Hill spoke, Fury knew she was right. Magic was a glaring gap in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s vast arsenal, a chink in their otherwise formidable armor. Accepting the situation with a reluctant nod, Fury decided to shift the focus. "Fine. What about Romanoff now? Did she find anything?" he inquired, eager for some semblance of progress.
A slight smile tugged at Agent Hill's lips. "Well, Romanoff is quite annoyed that her vacation was disturbed by the sudden chaos and your request," she said, amusement sparkling in her eyes as she remembered the agitation in Black Widow's voice over the communication line. "But, fortunately, she's got some leads on the Chaldea people. It's still uncertain whether the information is accurate, so she's asked for more time to investigate."
For a moment, Fury's stern demeanor softened, if only slightly. "Finally, some good news. I don't care if she's angry at me; she can take her vacation as long as she finds a clue about them." His single eye locked onto Hill's with fierce determination. "Hill, keep an eye on Romanoff's report, but remember, if you cross paths with them, don't engage. We can't afford more surprises." His tone was unyielding, each word delivering the weight of his command. As long as there was even a sliver of a chance of uncovering more about Chaldea, Fury was resolved to pursue it.
Understanding the gravity of his orders, Maria stood, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor punctuating the silence of the room. "Understood, Director," she said crisply. With that, she turned on her heel and departed, leaving Fury alone to battle his thoughts and the myriad holographic displays that flickered in the dim light.
As Maria Hill exited, the room seemed to settle back into its tense quiet. Fury was left in solitude, surrounded by a sea of holograms and the persistent weight of a world that threatened to unravel faster than he could mend it. Each image and fragment of data represented a piece of the larger, more intricate puzzle that was Chaldea, a puzzle that Nick Fury was determined to solve, no matter the cost.
.....
On the other side of the chaos enveloping the world's attention, the elusive group that everyone's been searching for enjoyed a grand breakfast in the newly redecorated dining hall of their mansion. Just last week, the once-dull walls had been transformed, now adorned with rich, burgundy damask wallpaper highlighted with subtle golden fleur-de-lis patterns. The coffered ceiling, painted a soft cream hue, boasted intricate molding and a crystal chandelier that cast a warm, inviting light over the room.
At the heart of this elegant space stood a long, rectangular dining table, serving as the focal point for the Chaldea members who were indulging in a delightful array of breakfast dishes that Mash and Ken had lovingly prepared. They ate with great relish, their conversations mingling with the clinking of silverware and the hum of contented chatter.
"I didn't expect a guy like you to know how to cook, Ryougi," Olga remarked, her tone tinged with genuine surprise after finishing her plate.
"Indeed, it is quite a good meal," Waver added, his coffee steaming as he took a slow, appreciative sip.
Ken looked up from his own portion, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Thanks, but Mash helped me prepare everything," he replied nonchalantly before returning to his food. Beside him, Mordred was already on her twentieth serving, too engrossed in her meal to join the conversation. Her plate towered beside her, a testament to her voracious appetite, and Ken could only watch her helplessly.
"Speaking of Mash, where is she?" Sion asked, her eyes scanning the room and noticing the absence of the lilac-haired girl.
Da Vinci, overhearing the question, responded warmly. "She's checking on the person Hassan brought back. That individual is still in a coma, even after three days."
Ushiwakamaru added, "Mash already had her breakfast, so she won't be joining us. And could you please eat more slowly, Mordred? Try to show a demeanor befitting nobility, Pendragon-san," Ushiwakamaru finished, her tone exasperated. After three days of living with the wild lion cub, she was continuously baffled by Mordred's lack of decorum.
Mordred, however, remained unperturbed. With her mouth full and cheeks bulging like a squirrel, she looked briefly at Ushiwakamaru, crumbs dotting her face, then resolutely returned to her epic breakfast without a word.
Sensing the growing tension, Hassan, sitting beside Ushiwakamaru, could see the red-clad warrior's frustration rising. Quickly, Waver, ever the strategist, decided it was time to change the subject before things escalated.
"Speaking of which, your appearance that day is still quite hot on the internet and in the news," he noted, addressing the room but directing his comment at Ken.
"Right, you almost jeopardized the entire Chaldea, Ryougi," Olga interjected sharply, her frown deepening as she glanced at the main character of that event. Her expression was a mix of annoyance and concern.
"Relax, Director, it was all according to our plan," Da Vinci chimed in, her voice a soothing contrast to Olga's sternness. "Didn't Ken talk to us first before he intervened with the Magneto farce in New York that night?"
Ken set down his utensil, his calm demeanor belying the gravity of the situation they faced. "I know you're worried, Director Olga, but you know that was necessary. Sooner or later, people would have learned about us anyway. Rather than wait, I saw that event as an opportunity to take action."
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "I joined the fight, announcing our existence and declaring Chaldea's noble purpose. At least now, people know we're on the side of humanity."
Sion nodded, her analytical mind already whirring. "It'll definitely attract those shady organizations, but it's not like we can't handle them. With SHEBA and LAPLACE, there's nothing they can hide from us. We could even try to use them to our advantage."
Waver chimed in, his wisdom shining through. "I agree. The benefits outweigh the risks, and it's not like we have much choice. This will give us a better chance to recruit the people on our list, once they see we're fighting for justice."
Olga sighed, the weight of their circumstances etched on her face as she massaged her temple. "I know, I'm just worried. We're understaffed, low on resources, and lack the necessary firepower. Ushiwaka, Mash, Mordred, and Hassan are the only ones who can really fight."
She paused, then asked, "What about those people on the recruitment list? Can we actually get them to join us?"
Ken pondered the names on the recruitment list. "Well, there's always a possibility, and we'll monitor them first before asking them to join us. We can bait some of them with the information and support they need, while the rest are simply looking for a way to live in this forsaken world – they just want a home."
When they had their meeting in Chaldea, they had all agreed to recruit potential people from this universe into their organization. They couldn't rely solely on the power of the Servants or things from their previous universe when they were stuck in this reality. With the help of the MARVEL file that Ken had written, they had identified people and used SHEBA to locate their whereabouts, putting them on the recruitment list.
Guaranteed, not all of them would agree to join, but at least knowing them and becoming their allies would surely be a good thing to have. Chaldea would need the help of the natives of this universe, after all.
"If they agree to join us, the problem of lacking staff could also be solved," Sion nodded in agreement.
"Or we could summon Servants for Olga and Sion," Waver suggested, his concern for his former student's safety evident. "It would also serve as protection for you guys while the current fighting members are out on missions."
"That's a good idea, Waver-san!" Da Vinci exclaimed, her excitement palpable. "As expected from the vessel of Zhuge Liang! We could go back to Chaldea to use the FATE system anytime we want with the Shadow Border, and maybe check on Romani's work, fufufu."
As the Chaldea members continued to discuss their plans, their voices mingling with the sounds of Mordred's epic breakfast, a sense of purpose and determination filled the air. Ken, Waver, Da Vinci, Hassan, and Ushiwaka focused on the recruitment efforts, while Olga and Sion strategized ways to acquire more resources.
Amidst the flurry of activity, Mordred remained blissfully unaware, her sole focus on devouring plate after plate of food, unconcerned with the weighty matters her comrades debated. The lioness cared only for her own growth, oblivious to the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead for Chaldea.
.....
( ??? POV )
"Uu..ugghh..."
I groaned as a wave of fatigue and disorientation washed over me, my eyelids heavy as I struggled to open them. The moment my eyes fluttered open, I slowly took in my surroundings. I was in a bedroom, but not one I recognized. The room was spacious, filled with elegant furniture that looked like it belonged in a mansion. Sunlight poured in through a large window, casting a warm, golden glow that made the room feel oddly comforting despite my confusion.
'Ugh... Where am I?'
I wondered, my mind racing as I tried to piece together the last fragments of my memory. The last thing I recalled was the panic and fear I had felt as I fled from my home, my mother's unconscious form because of my touch haunting my thoughts. I had run for an entire day before someone with sharp claws and crimson skin had attempted to abduct me. I had been helpless, dragged off to meet a man named Magneto. After that, my memory was a black void.
'Mom... This is all because of me... I'm sorry...'
The thought of my mom, possibly still unconscious and alone, twisted my stomach with guilt. I shouldn't have run; I shouldn't have even touched her. What was happening to me? I felt lost and terrified, unsure of what had happened or what was going to happen next.
My introspective musings were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. Turning my gaze, I watched as a young woman with lilac hair and glasses entered the room, a tray of food in her hands. She looked at me with a mixture of surprise and relief, and I'm sure my own expression mirrored hers.
"Ah, you're awake!"
.....
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