After Trevor delivered his line, the room fell silent for a moment. Then, Killian raised his hands and applauded Trevor's outstanding performance.
Turning to Eric, Killian said, "He's perfect. He's the one. I think it's time to begin our plan."
After speaking with Eric, Killian turned back to Trevor. "Congratulations. From today onward, you're our boss."
"Wha—?!" Trevor was stunned. How did he suddenly become their boss?
But he quickly realized he had misunderstood. He wasn't truly in charge—his status as "boss" was only in name. Killian and the others didn't show any real respect for him. At most, they were just slightly more polite than before.
Now that Killian had confirmed Trevor was the attention-grabbing figure he wanted, he studied Trevor's appearance more carefully. While Trevor's acting was excellent and he could convincingly portray a terrifying terrorist leader, his appearance didn't quite match Killian's expectations for the role.
So Killian decided to give Trevor a small "upgrade."
"Eric, take our boss here and help him clean up a bit. And—" Killian raised an eyebrow at Trevor, "Boss, I assume you wouldn't mind a little upgrade? The kind that involves some minor cosmetic adjustments."
"As long as you're still going to pay me like you promised?" Trevor didn't mind the talk of plastic surgery. What he really cared about was getting paid.
Killian didn't answer with words—he simply gestured to Eric. Eric opened a drawer and pulled out several crisp, ink-scented $100 bills, handing them to Trevor.
"Do your job well, and there'll be a lot more where that came from. Now come with me—we're going to change your image. You need to look a bit more... respectable."
S.H.I.E.L.D. - Tri-Wing Base
At S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Tri-Wing base, Melinda May handed Coulson a stack of files. "These are the dossiers on the top agents you asked for."
"Let's see which exceptional talents you've chosen," Coulson said, picking up the thick file.
"Hmm… Leo Fitz, expert in mechanical and electrical engineering. Weak in combat. Jemma Simmons, biochemistry PhD—also weak in combat," Coulson said, then looked up at May. "May, this team will be going on field missions. They're impressive, no doubt—but if it's just you and me out there, the work might be overwhelming."
"Don't get me wrong, sir. I'm just the pilot. The field agents you need are on the next page."
"Alright then." Coulson flipped to the next page and saw a photo and bio of a man.
"Grant Ward. Specialist in black ops. Weak on team dynamics, but a strong solo operative with a solid track record… impressive résumé."
"There are more below."
"No, just these will do. I don't need a big team." Coulson placed the file back on the desk and pulled out the dossiers for Fitz, Simmons, and Ward, handing them back to May.
"Please send these up for approval. Let's get this team up and running—we've got a lot to do."
"Understood. I'll get it processed right away." May turned to leave with the files, but then her eyes accidentally caught sight of a photo on another report Coulson had set aside.
"What's that?"
"Our first mission."
Upstate New York — A Private Villa
In a quiet villa, a blue portal shimmered into existence, and Clark stepped through with a vial of bright red blood in hand.
He walked over to Banner and handed it to him. "Here you go."
"Thanks, Clark." Banner took the vial eagerly, clearly itching to get back to the lab and begin testing whether Godzilla's blood could neutralize the gamma radiation in his own.
"Just be careful, Banner. Don't get reckless with your experiments this time. Don't use yourself as a test subject before all the data is in."
"I know. Once was enough." Banner gave a small smile. Ever since that one reckless experiment created the Hulk, he'd sworn never to do that again.
"Good. Want me to send you back?"
"If you're offering—truth is, I've never actually stepped through one of your portals before."
Clark smiled, then casually stretched out his right hand. A glowing blue portal opened up before them.
"Incredible…"
As Banner stepped through the portal, he found himself instantly back in his familiar lab inside Tony Stark's upstate warehouse.
"How does your portal work? I know a bit about the Tesseract, but this… this thing you do with just a wave of your hand—where's the energy coming from?"
"I have no idea how it works," Clark shrugged. "I just know that it works. Call it magic, I guess."
After all, just because someone can use a smartphone doesn't mean they know how it was made. Clark was the same way—he didn't know the principles behind the spell. He just knew how to use it.
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