Henry had already guessed who the visitors were the moment Tony mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D.
The bald man in the trench coat was unmistakable—Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., widely known (though not officially) as the "King of Agents." And standing beside him was a woman equally striking: sharp eyes, sleek red hair, and a black bodysuit that screamed elite operative. She was Natasha Romanoff, better known as the Black Widow.
Together, they were arguably two of the most formidable individuals in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks.
Henry didn't particularly care for either of them.
He knew the type. Trained agents who studied every flicker of facial expression, every syllable uttered, using psychological profiles to manipulate and "persuade" people into compliance. Nick Fury, especially, was a man who believed everyone could be categorized and maneuvered like chess pieces.
Fury didn't bother with pleasantries. The moment he stepped into the living room, he went straight for the sofa and sat down with authority, his one eye fixed on Henry.
"Henry, I presume?" he began, his tone deep and direct. "Tony briefed you, I'm sure."
"I know who you are," Henry replied flatly. "Let's skip the introductions. I'm not interested in joining the Avengers."
Fury didn't even blink. He clearly expected resistance.
"I heard that part," he said. "But I'm not here to argue. I just want to ask a few questions. Tony mentioned you're a mage?"
"Yes."
Fury let out a low whistle. "I've seen a lot of things in my time… aliens, gods, monsters. But magic? That's new. Still trying to wrap my head around it."
"You better start," Henry said. "Because it's very real."
Fury leaned back, adjusting his coat. "Obadiah Stane vanished right before our eyes. Vanished into thin air. You did that, right?"
Henry didn't answer.
Fury continued, "I don't mean to sound rude, but… are there many like you on Earth?"
Henry's eyes narrowed. "That's not a polite question."
Fury raised his hands. "Fair. But you must understand—S.H.I.E.L.D. exists to safeguard this planet. When someone with your abilities appears, it's my job to assess the potential risks. If there's a force out there that can bend time or rip reality apart, I need to know about it."
"So you think I'm a threat?" Henry asked calmly.
"I don't know yet," Fury said. "That's what I'm trying to determine. You, or someone like you, could save the world—or destroy it. I need to prepare for both possibilities."
Henry wasn't surprised. This was classic Fury—always assuming the worst.
But his tone, though rational, made Henry uncomfortable. It wasn't the logic that bothered him. It was the underlying arrogance—the belief that human agents could somehow control or predict everything.
"So what's your plan?" Henry asked. "Force anyone with power into your system? Build a team of so-called heroes and hope they keep each other in check?"
Fury nodded without hesitation. "That's exactly what the Avengers are for. A contingency. A defense against the unknown."
"And what if someone doesn't want to join your little initiative?"
Fury's eye darkened. "Then they're unpredictable. And unpredictability is dangerous."
Henry's smile disappeared.
The room chilled slightly. The air grew thick with tension.
For a moment, neither man spoke. Their eyes locked. Henry's expression was unreadable. Fury's remained cold and calculating.
The silence was finally broken by Natasha Romanoff, who had been standing quietly near the door.
"I don't believe Henry is a threat," she said. "He helped Stark. If he meant any harm, he could've done it long ago."
Her words were calm and well-timed—an obvious attempt to cool things down.
Henry appreciated the change in tone. Whether she was playing "good cop" or being genuine, at least she wasn't treating him like a bomb waiting to explode.
"You're more reasonable than him," Henry said, giving her a faint smile. "Why aren't you the one running S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Natasha shrugged playfully. "Maybe because he's older. In our line of work, experience still counts for something."
"Then you're at a disadvantage," Henry replied with a smirk.
Natasha chuckled. "Tell me about it."
Fury, however, wasn't amused. His brow twitched as he turned toward her. "Agent Romanoff. Professionalism, please."
Natasha held up her hands. "Just trying to keep the room from freezing over, sir."
Fury turned back to Henry, narrowing his eye. "You knew who I was before I introduced myself."
Henry tilted his head, clearly enjoying the shift in dynamic. "Of course I did. You were an Army colonel during World War II. You joined S.H.I.E.L.D. after the war. Want me to go on?"
Fury stiffened. "How do you know that?"
"That's not public information," Natasha said, visibly concerned.
"I'm a mage," Henry replied smoothly. "Information finds its way to me."
Fury's lips tightened. "Are you saying you've been spying on us?"
"I'm saying your little organization isn't as airtight as you think."
That shut Fury up.
"You believe you're the one pulling the strings," Henry continued, voice sharp now. "But the truth is, S.H.I.E.L.D. lost control of the chessboard a long time ago. You just haven't realized it yet."
Fury didn't respond.
"I don't believe in your Avengers," Henry went on. "I don't trust shadow organizations that operate without transparency, and I certainly don't believe that forcing superpowered individuals into a team makes the world any safer. You don't even know who you're protecting it from."
His words were blunt. Too blunt.
But they struck true.
Fury's silence was confirmation enough. In this verbal spar, Henry had the upper hand.
Still, Fury tried one last time.
"The World Security Council won't sit quietly knowing there's a powerful individual like you who refuses oversight," he said. "You'll be questioned, investigated—maybe even targeted."
"That doesn't scare me," Henry said. "Wasn't Tony hounded by the government too? He didn't cave. And neither will I."
Tony, who had been quiet through the exchange, nodded. "Yeah, I basically told them all to shove it. Sometimes you just gotta let people bark."
Fury's shoulders dropped slightly. "Then I'll wish you luck."
"Thanks," Henry said dryly. "I've always been lucky."
Fury stood, adjusting his coat. "For what it's worth, I'm not your enemy. I just want to protect Earth."
"That's noble," Henry replied. "But you should start by protecting it from itself."
There was no more to say.
Natasha gave Henry a respectful nod before turning toward the door. Fury followed, though he looked back once with an expression that said he wasn't done—not yet.
Tony stood as well, preparing to leave.
"I'll head out too," he said. "I've got some work to do on the reactor. Thanks again, Henry. For everything."
But just as they reached the front door, Fury's phone buzzed.
He answered immediately.
His face shifted the moment he heard the voice on the other end.
A pause. Then his tone turned grim.
"Trouble is coming," Fury said, slipping the phone back into his coat. "Tony… we're going to need your help."
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