"They're captured Hydra assets," Shen He said as he landed beside the others, sleek mecha armor humming. "Tony, check out the base—there should be more Inhumans still trapped inside. I'll handle the interrogation here."
"Got it."
Tony gave a curt nod, casting one final glance at the twins before launching into the air.
He couldn't shake the unease that lingered. He was used to opposition, to being hated by enemies—but the look the girl gave him wasn't tactical hostility. It was personal. That kind of hatred only came from pain—deep, unresolved pain.
"Your Majesty Black Bolt, one moment," Shen He said, turning to the silent king. "We're aware of the coup in Attilan. Chaldea stands by our promise—we won't abandon your people."
"Thank you," Black Bolt signed with dignified calm, Jarvis translating seamlessly. "Call me by my true name. I will never forget Chaldea's aid."
"Then I will respect your wish—Blackagar," Shen He said. He then pointed at the restrained twins. "These two don't seem to be Inhumans."
While mutants didn't exist in this world, people born with powers still emerged outside of Inhuman lineage—especially in a reality where the supernatural, alien, and scientific often overlapped.
"They don't exhibit Inhuman markers," Blackagar signed. "A genetic test could confirm, but even if they were, Attilan would not shield criminals."
Gestures couldn't express technical nuance easily, but Shen He understood: Blackagar referred to Inhuman gene markers. If the twins lacked those, they weren't part of Attilan's bloodline.
"So, no diplomatic immunity then," Shen He said with a subtle grin, turning back toward the Maximoff siblings.
Pietro instinctively stepped in front of Wanda, arm outstretched protectively. Wanda clutched his elbow, red energy flickering faintly at her fingertips. Both looked young, barely older than sixteen or seventeen—not the composed warriors they'd become in the future.
"Who's running that base?" Shen He asked, his voice even.
Pietro remained silent, glaring at him with stubborn defiance. A flicker of disdain danced in his eyes.
"Baron Strucker?" Shen He mused aloud, stepping forward casually. "Where'd he go? Don't know? Did you see Garrett? The overweight guy with the smug face? Yes? Know where he's headed? No? The secret base… where is it?"
Through it all, the twins remained silent.
But Shen He listed every answer correctly—one by one—as if reading their minds.
Wanda suddenly turned to look at Qi Mu Nanzi in horror. Her lips parted slightly, trembling.
She hadn't sensed any intrusion—no psychic waves, no mental probes, no warning. Yet this girl had somehow read them. That meant one of two things: either Nanzi's mental powers were so refined she could extract thoughts without detection—or her sensory perception was strong enough to detect the micro-thoughts that naturally radiated from the brain.
Either way, she was terrifying.
Wanda had trained with Hydra's mental weapon specialists. She knew how powerful telepaths could be.
But this… this was something far beyond.
"Cooperate," Qi Mu Nanzi's voice echoed directly into their minds, devoid of emotion, "or I'll regress your cognitive functions to that of a toddler."
Wanda's breath caught in her throat.
"It's an island… a remote one. Called Tahiti. You won't find it on any map," she finally stammered, clearly shaken.
"What the hell…?" Shen He rubbed his chin. "Do I really look that scary?"
"I gave them a little scare," Qi Mu Nanzi said telepathically to Shen He.
"You're intimidating people now?" Shen He shot her a wide-eyed look.
"Not Qi Mu Nanxiong—this was Qi Mu Nanzi's debut. First impressions matter for discipline," she replied without changing expression. "Besides, we need to move quickly. Garrett doesn't need Coulson anymore—not after he got what he wanted."
From her link to Shen He's inner thoughts, she had gleaned critical insight—he didn't view the twins as true enemies. He intended to guide them.
"How far is this base?" Shen He asked Wanda directly.
"It's far… we'd have to cross almost half the planet," Wanda whispered, curling inward.
The trauma hit her hard. She remembered the days trapped under rubble, clutching her brother's hand, staring at a missile shell stamped with Stark Industries. It never exploded—but the terror it inspired… that left a permanent scar.
Shen He noticed the distant, haunted look in her eyes but didn't comment.
They were clearly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Diagnosed clinically, PTSD. Right now, reasoning with them would be useless. Once the immediate mission was over, then they could be helped.
"Shen," Tony's voice came over the comms. He landed nearby in a light thud, armor still glowing faintly. "Base is burned. All data wiped clean. No sign of their command—whoever was running the operation bailed. We might be a few minutes too late. There's evidence of a recently launched jet."
"We're not too late yet," Shen He said, updating him on what they'd learned.
They had lost precious time thanks to the earlier attack from conventional troops—but they still had a shot.
"Jarvis, map a pursuit trajectory," Tony ordered. "Ping all orbital satellites—search for high-speed aircraft from this corridor. Also, contact Pepper. Have her send my modified jet—this suit won't cover half a planet on its current reserves."
"Blackagar," Shen He said thoughtfully, turning back to the silent king. "Do you know where Crystal is?"
"Lockjaw brought me here—then vanished," Blackagar signed. "I've encountered a few who hunted me… from them, I learned Crystal escaped too."
"Then we split up," Shen He decided quickly. "Tony, your priority is interception—catch Garrett before he vanishes. We'll search for Crystal. Lockjaw will likely be near her. Once we find them, we'll teleport and regroup. Also, contact Steve—send a secure squad to protect these Inhumans. They need a shower, warmth, and a decent meal."
Unknowingly, Shen He had begun taking on responsibilities S.H.I.E.L.D. once held.
Hunt threats. Protect innocents.
"On it." Tony blasted off again, tracing the escape route.
The trail wasn't cold yet—if they could pinpoint Garrett's path, they still had a window.
"How do we find Crystal?" Blackagar asked.
"I can offer myself as bait," he signed. "If they're still hunting me, they might give away her position."
"No need for that."
Shen He turned, eyes scanning the team. The servants had returned from combat, quiet but ready.
"I have Jeanne."
If Crystal had escaped, she wouldn't have gone far. Jeanne d'Arc's divine intuition sharpened with proximity. The closer the target, the stronger her spiritual resonance.
And when it came to tracking lost hope—Jeanne had always been a beacon.