Based on Marvel's The Avengers
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"Listen, I know school sucks. I know you wanna save the world, but you are not ready yet. Stay close to the ground and stay out of trouble"
In Earth#201
Eight months had passed since the events of Avengers: Endgame...
In the hushed confines of the room, the only audible rhythm was that of keyboard keys dancing under the firm touch of fingertips.
Within the cocoon of his comfortable office, framed by clear skies visible through the window, soft sunlight bathed the room in a gentle glow, bestowing upon it an atmosphere of tranquility and warmth.
"I'm already there..." The words escaped the man's lips in a murmur, his brow furrowed in concentration as he leaned forward, his frame ensconced in the embrace of a plush, ergonomic chair.
The man appeared seasoned, his countenance weathered by time and experience, his complexion the rich hue of dark chocolate. Yet, it was the pronounced scar tracing a jagged path from his eyebrow to just above his cheek that commanded attention.
With deft precision, his fingers danced across the keyboard, the luminance of the screen casting a subtle gleam upon his eye patch as he guided a pixelated yellow circle through the maze, evading spectral adversaries of vibrant hues.
However, his focus was shattered by a rap on the door.
Dressed in attire as dark as his demeanor, the man swiftly paused the game of Pac-Man and secured his tabs, his meticulous nature leaving no detail unattended as he straightened his already orderly desk in preparation.
Seated upright, he interlocked his fingers upon the armrests, assuming the mantle of authority as he granted entry with a commanding tone. "Come in," his voice resonated.
A figure clad in a simpler uniform entered cautiously, bearing a folder marked 'classified' with utmost care.
"I hope I'm not intruding," the newcomer offered a faint smile, advancing with purpose towards the desk, the weight of the folder palpable in his grasp.
"Not at all." The seated man shook his head with composure.
"Just attending to some computer maintenance," he offered by way of explanation, settling into his seat with a subtle shift of posture.
The younger man, one of his most trusted agents, nodded in acknowledgment before placing the folder upon the polished surface. "Mr. Fury, I'm here to deliver this to you."
Fury regarded him with a sidelong glance, curiosity piqued by the unexpected delivery. Accepting the documents, he rifled through them with growing anticipation.
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