Lynn picked up his beer, shifted his chair back, and settled into a more comfortable position.
"That hammer outside is called Mjolnir. It isn't from Earth. It comes from Asgard. Yes, the one you know from Norse mythology. It really exists. Strictly speaking, though, Asgardians aren't gods. They're more like an alien civilization, with lifespans much longer than ours and technology advanced enough to build a Bifrost between galaxies for instantaneous transport. Oh... the Bifrost is what physics calls an Einstein-Rosen bridge."
Coulson's fingers stopped on the rim of his juice glass.
"Because of certain things, Odin stripped Thor of his divine power and right of succession, then exiled him to Earth. Odin threw the hammer down here too, with an enchantment placed on it. Only someone worthy at heart can lift it and gain the power of the God of Thunder. Thor is nearby right now, with an astrophysicist named Jane Foster.
"He's lost his divine power and become an ordinary man, just a little bigger and far stronger than most." Lynn took a sip of beer. "Those cranes of yours... stop wasting your time. They can't move it. This isn't a question of technology. It's a question of rules. Asgard's magic and technology have merged to a degree that you can't pry apart with brute force."
Coulson fell silent for a moment. He neither questioned the truth of those words nor asked, "How do you know?" He simply lifted his gaze from his interlaced fingers to Lynn's face.
"You mean Thor will come to try to reclaim the hammer within the next few days? And as he is now, he won't be able to lift it, correct?"
"Correct," Lynn said. "Thor will fail, but that's not the point. What matters is what comes after him. Whoever Asgard sends to kill Thor won't care about buildings or lives on Earth. That thing is being sent by Odin's other son to make sure Thor can never return to Asgard. You can call it the Destroyer."
Coulson said nothing. Lynn set his beer on the bar and leaned forward slightly.
"With your clearance, you have the authority to organize a temporary evacuation. This town isn't large. Moving the residents out ahead of time could save a lot of people. That's within your power, isn't it?"
Coulson's expression changed. His instincts as an agent rapidly calculated time, resources, routes, casualty figures, and the likelihood of being held accountable by his superiors. His hand left the rim of his glass and pressed against the edge of the bar, his knuckles whitening slightly under the pressure.
"When you say 'within the next few days,' exactly how many days do you mean? As for the hammer..."
He took a deep breath and slowed his speech. "Besides, we can't delay the operation at the hammer indefinitely. The higher-ups are already pressing us. Are you sure there's enough time to evacuate the entire town?"
"Yes."
Lynn's tone brooked no doubt. "Enough for you to get everything ready. If there isn't, I can help too. Don't forget, you've seen some of what I can do."
Coulson was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. Lynn picked up his beer, leaned back in his chair, and took another sip, leaving Coulson to digest all the information that had just been thrown at him.
Coulson regained his composure quickly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the cool precision of an agent had returned to his eyes.
"Since you said the second matter won't happen immediately," he said, folding his hands on the tabletop again, his gaze resting steadily on Lynn's face, "what's the major incident you mentioned? The one you said would happen within a month or two."
Lynn set down his beer. He looked at Coulson's face. This agent had just heard about an alien deity's hammer and the pursuer who would soon descend after him, yet had regained his composure in less than a few minutes. But what came next wasn't news on the level of "most of this town will be destroyed."
"If things proceed as they otherwise would, and Fury doesn't stop his ignorant probing..." Lynn spoke quietly, but every word was as clear as cracking ice. "An alien army will arrive before long. A portal will open over New York, and tens of thousands of alien troops will descend into the city center. Directly above Manhattan."
Coulson did not move, but a faint crack appeared in those eyes that had remained gentle and composed through decades as an agent.
"...Aliens?" he repeated, as though making sure he had heard correctly.
"Yes. I think they're called the Chitauri. A half-biological, half-mechanical army, controlled from behind the scenes by someone more powerful than any enemy you've ever encountered. They aren't coming to negotiate or make a show of force. They're coming to conquer. The civilians, buildings, and infrastructure in central New York will be as fragile as paper against an invasion on that scale." Lynn leaned forward slightly. "You should be able to imagine the casualty figures. I won't describe them in detail."
Coulson's fingers stopped on the rim of his juice glass, then slowly withdrew and folded together on the tabletop. His voice was lower than before, but it retained an agent's calm tone.
"What is Director Fury researching?"
Lynn picked up his beer and leaned back in his chair, a faint smile forming on his lips. It wasn't his usual casual smile when joking around, but something subtler, an understanding tinged with helplessness.
"Things haven't reached the point where they have to be dealt with immediately. Besides, even if I told you now, you wouldn't believe all of it, would you?"
Lynn set his beer on the bar and looked at Coulson. "There's still plenty of time. Don't rush. Once we've dealt with what's in front of us, investigating it yourself will be more convincing than anything I could say here, won't it? Files you uncover yourself, evidence you see with your own eyes-you won't need anyone else to explain them."
Coulson looked at Lynn in silence for a long time. Then he picked up his now-warm juice, took a sip, and set it down.
"All right. We'll deal with the immediate problem first."
"Then... what's the last remaining matter?"
Lynn raised his eyes. His expression barely changed, but Coulson clearly saw him gently push his beer aside and sit a little straighter. When he spoke again, his tone was cold to the point of indifference, entirely stripped of the casualness he had shown while discussing the hammer, and unlike the steady gravity with which he had spoken of the alien threat.
"I'll give you just one keyword. How much of the truth you uncover is entirely up to you."
Coulson frowned slightly but did not interrupt.
"I don't want to bring trouble down on myself, much less get tangled up in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention and problems. If you uncover any clues, that's down to your ability and luck."
Lynn lightly tapped a finger against the edge of the bar, as though underlining his words. "The most important point is this: whether or not the result is confirmed, whatever you see or verify afterward, I cannot be your source. You understand what I mean."
"Mr. Lynn..."
Lynn cut him off, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. Seeing Coulson's eagerness to question him, he raised a hand to signal him to stop.
"Accept these rules and give me your word, and I'll continue. Otherwise, forget what I just said. Pretend I never mentioned it. To preserve the peaceful life I have now, I'll keep my mouth shut."
"Of course, if you agree, I can give you another piece of information in exchange."
He lowered his hand and leaned back in his chair, meeting Coulson's eyes calmly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has watched me for so long. You know what I'm like. There's no need for empty formalities."
Coulson fell silent. Ever since Lynn had brought up the first matter, his instincts as an agent had been sounding the alarm: the three matters escalated one after another. The first was the fallen Mjolnir and the crisis facing the town; the third was an alien army invading New York. Seen that way, the second matter, described as "overturning everything he knew," was the weightiest of all these hidden threats. It might not be the most destructive, but the truth would certainly be heavy enough.
He sat quietly for a long time, long enough for the condensation on his glass to slide down its sides and spread into a small, dark patch on the wooden tabletop. Finally, he raised his eyes and nodded solemnly.
"All right. I give you my word. I accept every condition you've stated."
Lynn looked into his eyes. Given Coulson's position and way of doing things, once he gave his word, he would never go back on it. His professional integrity and character were worthy of Lynn's trust.
"Serpent S.H.I.E.L.D."
The brief phrase landed on the counter like an unexploded shell. The solemnity instantly drained from Coulson's face, giving way first to blank confusion, then to bone-deep shock. Having spent more than a decade deeply involved in S.H.I.E.L.D., he understood the implication behind those words all too well. The deeper meaning of Lynn calling S.H.I.E.L.D. "Serpent S.H.I.E.L.D." made his usually gentle eyes crack for the first time.
Lynn gave him little time to digest it. "One extra piece of information: Natasha, Fury, Clint, and you-the four of you are allies on the same side. As for everyone else... you'll have to investigate them yourself."
He picked up his beer and drained it in one go. "With your judgment, it shouldn't be hard to guess the truth behind that term."
"Mr. Lynn..." Coulson's lips moved. He nearly voiced the question in his heart, then forcibly swallowed it back. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice grew hoarse. "Are you certain?"
"Whether you believe it, whether you investigate, and how you investigate have nothing to do with me. I'm just a nobody with neither power nor influence. Even if there are things about me that differ from ordinary people, my abilities are limited. This is all I can do."
Lynn stood and set his beer glass on the bar, deliberately avoiding Coulson's direct gaze. His tone was mild, its earlier cold hardness gone. He left Coulson no room for further questions. "You have my number. If you run into something you can't handle, contact me. I can't help with much else, but fighting... I'm fairly good at that."
Coulson remained seated, glancing down at the barely touched juice before him before looking up quietly at Lynn. As Lynn walked past him, he distinctly felt that gaze, and his steps faltered involuntarily. After hesitating several times, he ultimately said nothing more. He patted Coulson's arm, turned, and walked toward the bar's entrance.