The bloodstained gold badge rested against the dark-red molten iron left on the console, giving off a faint hiss. The stench of scorched flesh and blood spread with the waves of heat.
Coulson's index finger was still pressed against the scorching back of the badge. The residual heat charred his flesh, but he did not so much as flinch. His bloodshot eyes remained fixed on Nick Fury's dark face.
Only the dying hum of the ventilation ducts and the high-frequency charging whine of the Palm Cannons in Tony's armor remained in the hall.
Fury's lone eye glanced sideways at the warped eagle insignia. His hands drew deeper into his coat pockets, his face taut, a barely perceptible shadow passing through his eye.
"Coulson, have you misunderstood something about me? I've never treated you as tools. You're soldiers, all of you. Soldiers protecting your home."
"Misunderstood?"
Coulson tugged at the corner of his mouth. His once-straight back sagged half an inch, and the miniature motor in his chest gave a dull mechanical throb. A suppressed, low-frequency hum came from beneath Tony's faceplate as his holographic display swiftly locked onto Coulson's abnormal heart rate readings. Beside him, Steve looked grim, his jaw clenched hard.
"When I was studying at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Communications Academy, you came to address us at graduation. You stood right in the middle of the stage. You said S.H.I.E.L.D. was the last wall standing between humanity and the dangers lurking while it slept. As long as we kept our eyes on your light, we would never lose our way in the dark."
Coulson slowly withdrew his right hand, letting his charred, bloodied fingertip hang beside his trouser seam. His voice was weightless, yet it cast cold echoes through the lead-lined hall.
"I believed you for twenty whole years, sir.