"Who am I?"
The old white man stopped in his tracks and scrutinized everyone with his uncovered right eye.
That gaze gave Coulson an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
"Lower your gun, Coulson."
The old white man spoke as casually as if they were discussing everyday matters.
"The safety on that gun of yours is loose. I warned you about it back in Peru, but it looks like you still haven't fixed it."
"Ah, you're..."
Coulson could not help crying out. His eyes went wide as he stared fixedly at the utterly unfamiliar white face.
That tone.
That way of walking.
And that little detail about the gun safety, something only he and a handful of others knew.
"...Director Fury?" Coulson looked utterly incredulous. "But... you... your skin color..."
"Even M.J. didn't change as thoroughly as I did, right?"
Fury shrugged indifferently.
"It's called tactical camouflage, Coulson. For certain well-known reasons, that black face would set off red alerts at any airport in the world now. I had no choice but to... make some minor adjustments."
He walked past Coulson and stopped before "Black Nick Fury."
That "Black Fury" looked at the approaching old white man, rolled his neck, and then the skin on his body began to change as well.
A few seconds later, another Skrull—Talos—appeared before them.
Drawing another round of sidelong glances from the group.
Fury turned around, his gaze finally settling on the restrained Ward.
"Confused, Agent Ward?"
"The coordinates you received were correct. I really was here."
"But unfortunately... there were no alien weapons here for you. Only a snake trap specially prepared for Hydra."
Ward gritted his teeth, his eyes dark and venomous. "How's Garrett?"
"Fine. You'll be seeing him in hell soon enough."
Fury ignored him and shifted his gaze.
"Originally, this was only