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Storm explained the plan quickly and precisely, laying out every detail—the fake transmission, the accident narrative, and how it would be planted inside the black box data recovered from the crash site.
A faint smile tugged at Ethan's lips.
"A fabricated audio log," he said. "Panic. Confusion. Last-second bad decisions."
"Yes, sir," Storm replied. "It must sound authentic. Human and Panicked."
Ethan nodded once.
"I can do that."
He cut the call without another word.
Thirty minutes later, Storm's communicator chimed.
A single file transfer arrived.
AUDIO LOG – PARTIAL RECOVERY – TIME STAMP: FINAL MINUTES
Storm played it aloud.
Static crackled.
Breathing—fast, uneven.
"—this wasn't approved! Who authorized contact with the cube?!"
Another voice, strained.
"It's spiking—readings are off the chart!"
A sharp metallic clang, followed by shouting.
"Pull back! Pull back—!"
A rising hum drowned everything else out, swelling into a violent roar.
"God—energy surge—this was a mistake—!"
Then screaming.
Then Explosion.
Then silence.
The file cut off abruptly.
The room was dead quiet.
Hawkeye let out a slow breath.
"…That's terrifying."
He glanced at the audio file again, shaking his head slightly.
"He copied my voice perfectly. Just what he can't do," he muttered surprised.
"Here," Storm said, handing the device to Coulson. "Go plant it among the evidence."
Coulson took it and nodded.
"With this, we keep Ethan out of the picture—and we hide both Hawkeye and the Tesseract."
Storm inclined his head in agreement.
Coulson looked at Hawkeye.
"So what's your plan? Where will you lay low?"
"I'm going to stay here and train with Storm," Hawkeye replied. "After fighting him, I realized there are a lot of things I still need to learn."
Coulson glanced at Storm skeptically.
"I doubt Ethan-sama would mind," Storm said calmly, "as long as he does not enter the basement."
Coulson considered it for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright. Then it's settled. Lay low here until I get updates from Fury."
He turned to Storm, his expression serious.
"Keep the Tesseract safe until I come to retrieve it."
Storm nodded once.
"As you wish."
Coulson didn't linger. He turned and left, the door sealing shut behind him.
Silence settled over the room.
Hawkeye rolled his shoulders and looked at Storm."So… what do we do until then?"
"Didn't you say you wanted to learn?" Storm stood up. "Then join me for my daily exercise," he said, leading the way.
Hawkeye nodded and followed—but then paused, tugging at his clothes."First, I need a bath," he muttered.
Storm gestured toward the hall, showing him the guest rooms.
A week later, Coulson returned—this time with Black Widow.
"I'm sure you've already played it with Tesseract to your heart content." Coulson said, looking at Ethan. Dark circles sat under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept for days.
"Yes," Ethan mumbled. "I did… play for a while."
Even with my magically enhanced physique, granted by the Quan Chi template, being awake for seven straight days is still exhausting, he thought. Not to mention, I was working constantly.
Coulson's gaze shifted to the glowing cube resting on the table.
"So," Ethan asked, nodding toward the Tesseract, "are you ready to take back this hot potato?"
Coulson nodded.
"Yes. Director Fury wants it returned and placed in a secure locker."
Ethan simply nodded in response. Over the past week, he had already extracted an absurd amount of cosmic energy from the cube—enough that losing access to it now didn't bother him in the slightest.
"What about the moles in your organization?" Ethan asked.
"We're working on it," Coulson replied. "This is Black Widow—you've met her. She'll be leading the investigation."
Ethan nodded toward Natasha while stifling a yawn.
"It looks like you didn't even bother sleeping for the last few days," Natasha remarked, studying the dark circles under his eyes.
"I wasn't about to let go of it before finishing my analysis," Ethan replied casually. "Worth it."
She hummed, unimpressed but intrigued.
"By the way," Coulson added, "did you build the suit we asked for?"
Ethan nodded. "I did."
He placed a small, coin-sized disc onto the table.
"That's… the suit?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow as she picked it up.
Ethan nodded again.
"It's made of nanites, with multiple variations. It can adapt to any environment and can even operate independently if needed."
Natasha turned the disc over in her fingers. "And now?"
"Biometric activation," Ethan said, pulling out a tablet. "Place it on your palm."
She did.
The disc vibrated softly—then melted outward, spreading across her hand like liquid metal before retracting and locking into place.
"…Done," Ethan said. "Now it's keyed to you."
The nanites reshaped themselves, forming a sleek black watch around her wrist.
"Tap the watch three times, then hold for five seconds," he instructed.
Natasha followed his directions.
A translucent interface bloomed into existence in front of her eyes, projected directly from the watch.
Ethan continued calmly,
"From here, you can select any mode you want—stealth, flight, underwater operations, Poison survival, radiation protection. The core combat suit is already included."
Natasha stared at the interface for a long moment.
"And bulletproof?" she asked.
"It's missile-proof," Ethan replied confidently.
She smiled and nodded.
"Thank you for this."
"Don't thank me. I was paid for it anyway," he said, and she nodded in response.
Coulson and Widow stood up, ready to leave. Coulson paused and added,
"We'll also need you not to mention anything about moles again in the future. Only a select few know about this."
Ethan nodded.
With that, they turned and left.
The door slid shut behind them as they boarded the Quinjet. Moments later, the engines hummed to life and the aircraft lifted off.
Coulson settled into his seat and glanced toward Natasha.
"So," he asked, "how is it?"
Natasha raised her wrist, studying the sleek watch now resting there.
"I'm still learning," she admitted. "But… it even has a full suit capable of operating in outer space."
Coulson let out a low whistle.
"That guy never does things halfway."
She nodded faintly, eyes still on the interface.
"We need to keep this quiet for now. Especially after everything that's happened."
"Agreed," Coulson nodded. "Until we're sure how deep the moles go, this stays classified."