The wind on the rooftop of Washington was still biting and piercing, the howling wind carrying the city's clamor into everyone's ears, but it couldn't dispel the solidified silence at this moment.
The five stood rooted to the spot, their hearts filled with immense shock. Lynn's few words had completely shattered all their previous understanding and plans, revealing the core truth of Hydra, the Zola Algorithm, and Project Insight.
They fled and encountered setbacks along the way, enduring missile bombardment in an underground base, and risking being wanted by the entire internet to capture Sitwell. They thought they had found the truth and the right way out, but little did they know that they had only been passively groping and blindly forging ahead from beginning to end.
It turns out that the Project Insight was never a simple matter of military control, but rather a method of using big data to predict and eliminate all potential resistance at its source. This seemingly unsolvable method of control is far more sinister and terrifying than anyone imagined.
Just as everyone was calming down and silently digesting this revolutionary information, their emotions still churning, Lynn's helpless yet insightful voice rang out again through the receiver, breaking the silence on the rooftop.
"Stop standing there reviewing the game. Hearing you guys messing around like this, I'm worried for you."
Lynn's tone was filled with helplessness, accurately grasping the situation of everyone blindly forcing their way in, and then directly offered a new breakthrough. "Now, go find Fury."
The moment those words were spoken, the Shang-Chi the rooftop froze, and everyone's expression stiffened.
Before anyone could speak, Hill's brows furrowed suddenly, a sense of utter absurdity and bewilderment washing over her. She spoke rapidly, interrupting the rebuttal with an incredulous tone.
"Can you please stop being so arbitrary? Fury was attacked and seriously injured, losing too much blood and dying on the spot. We personally witnessed his passing and handled his funeral arrangements!"
Hill's voice was urgent, tinged with suppressed melancholy, and each word was earnest. "The man has already perished before our eyes. Where are we supposed to find him? Are we supposed to go to the morgue to find a corpse?"
The series of Extremis journeys and overwhelming intelligence had already put the group on edge. Lynn's sudden request to find Fury was truly baffling, even absurd.
Lynn paused briefly on the other end of the phone, seemingly anticipating everyone's reaction, before patiently continuing, her tone tinged with a hint of helplessness. "Don't be so impatient, don't rush to deny it."
"Is Coulson with you? Just have him take you to the highest level of safe house in Ohio."
The sudden roll call instantly drew everyone's attention to Coulson.
Steve, Natasha, Hill, Sam all turned their heads at the same time, their gazes fixed on Coulson's face, their eyes filled with doubt, inquiry, and anticipation.
On the empty, cold rooftop, four pairs of eyes locked onto him. Even Coulson, a veteran of countless battles and with exceptional mental fortitude, couldn't help but feel a tightness in his chest and a slight chill run down his spine, inexplicably feeling a bit awkward about being seen through in public.
He instinctively straightened up and quickly spoke into his phone's speakerphone, his tone hesitant and uncertain. "I know the place you're talking about, that super-secure detached house in Ohio."
As soon as he finished speaking, he frowned slightly and voiced his doubts. "But that outpost was an old emergency shelter, long since decommissioned and sealed off. It's been neglected and out of service for years, completely unusable. What would you want us to do there?"
"Knowing the location is enough; don't worry about whether it's been deactivated or not."
Lynn's patience had completely run out. His tone suddenly became urgent and serious, giving everyone no more time to hesitate. His words were pressing. "You must set off now, immediately, right away. You'll understand once you get there."
"And remember, Fury, that hollow, dark-skinned bald Nick Fury, is ridiculously cunning. He won't die so easily. The death you see might not be the real end."
A casual comment directly overturned everyone's established facts.
Before everyone could recover from the shock of " Fury faking his death," Lynn's tone suddenly changed, becoming full of warning and instantly creating an atmosphere of crisis.
"Furthermore, abandon Sitwell immediately and evacuate at full speed!"
"He's equipped with Hydra deep listening and dual-location chip. The time you spent capturing him and talking to me has already S.H.I.E.L.D.."
"The special agents who are chasing you, along with the Winter Soldier, should already be on their way. If we don't leave soon, we'll all be surrounded and killed on the rooftop!"
Finally, Lynn's exasperated rant came through. "Use your brain and ask questions when you encounter problems. Don't be like Steve, who only knows how to brute force and rely solely on his physical strength to survive."
"I'm hanging up now. Remember to call me if you need anything. I can't help with anything else, but Tony, Ivan, and I are pretty good at fighting."
Without giving anyone a chance to reply or ask further questions, the phone was abruptly disconnected.
The receiver went silent instantly, leaving only astonishment and a sudden sense of unease on the rooftop.
No one questioned Lynn's warnings. From beginning to end, the other side's intelligence predictions were never wrong, and every reminder accurately hit the core of the crisis.
Hill reacted the fastest; almost the instant the call ended, he turned around and rushed to the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the street below.
At the edge of the horizon, several all-black, uniformly styled SUVs were speeding towards the building. Their bodies were low to the ground, and they were moving at extremely high speeds. The sound of their tires screeching against the ground could be faintly heard. Their target was clear: the office building.
The vehicles had no markings, but everyone knew perfectly well that this was a top-level S.H.I.E.L.D.. field pursuit convoy, and most likely, it also carried the Winter Soldier's pursuit force.
Hill turned around, his expression extremely grave. He nodded slightly to the group and warned in a deep voice, "They're here. Retreat at full speed. There's no time to hesitate."
The situation is critical; a matter of life and death.
Sitwell, slumped on the ground, had not yet fully recovered from the shock of the high-altitude ordeal. His body was still weak and powerless. He stared blankly at the group of people who had suddenly become tense. He had not understood the key information from the previous call, nor did he realize that a life-threatening crisis had already befallen him.
Steve's eyes darkened, and he didn't hesitate at all.
He strode forward, raised his hand, and precisely struck Sitwell's neck with a steady force and accurate angle, delivering a clean and decisive chop to the neck.
Sitwell's eyes rolled back instantly, his body went limp, and he fainted, completely losing consciousness.
Without lingering, the four disregarded the mid-level Hydra agent, decisively abandoned the bait, and turned to flee swiftly towards the rooftop safety exit.
The iron gate was quickly closed, blocking out the cold wind from the high altitude and completely shaking off the approaching pursuers' line of sight.
The ensuing evacuation was a perilous and nerve-wracking ordeal.
The street downstairs had been sealed off in advance, and plainclothes agents were all in place, setting up an airtight search network. Every entrance and exit, and every corridor was tightly controlled, and the search was carried out at an extremely fast pace.
Taking advantage of the complex interior structure of the office building, the four kept their bodies low and their breaths concealed throughout, perfectly replicating the way ordinary office workers evacuate after get off work, cooperating in pairs and taking turns providing cover.
They encountered patrol teams searching each floor several times along the way, but each time they narrowly avoided detection by hiding in blind spots. With their exceptional stealth experience and seamless teamwork, they evaded precise searches time and time again.
No one spoke throughout the entire process; everyone tacitly and frantically ran to escape, their nerves stretched to the limit, daring not to make the slightest mistake. If they were exposed at this moment, they would face a massive encirclement and Extremis, with no possibility of breaking out.
With their familiarity with the city's terrain, the agents' superb stealth skills, and a bit of luck, the four of them finally managed to avoid all the checkpoints, bypass the main road blockade, and quietly escape through the abandoned fire escape at the back of the building.
After a long and arduous escape, avoiding surveillance cameras and traffic checkpoints, daring not to take any public transportation or use any electronic devices, and walking through alleys and detours to avoid detection, he finally shook off his pursuers and escaped the core war zone of Washington after more than half an hour of thrilling escape.
After confirming that there were no spies or tracking signals behind them, the group slowed down slightly, took a short breath, and dared not linger. Following the clues given by Lynn, they continued their journey towards Ohio without stopping.
They traveled by civilian vehicles, avoiding all data monitoring and checkpoints, day and night, and finally arrived safely in a remote area outside Ohio several hours later.
This area is far from the city, sparsely populated, densely forested, and secluded. It is not covered by surveillance and is untouched by anyone, perfectly matching the site selection logic of a highly secure and confidential house, making it an excellent hiding place.
Coulson stood at the edge of the forest, gazing at the hidden entrance half-hidden by vegetation, his expression full of surprise.
Based on his memory of the confidentiality permissions from many years ago, he stepped forward to verify the information step by step. The verification equipment, which he had thought had been powered off, scrapped, and completely paralyzed, suddenly lit up completely, with the screens flickering and the hibernation system instantly awakened.
Fingerprint, iris scan, voiceprint, and multiple keys—layer upon layer of cumbersome encryption and verification are initiated one by one.
This top-level security verification process was S.H.I.E.L.D..'s most advanced security mechanism in its early years. It has extremely high privileges and is very complicated. Ordinary agents are not even qualified to know about it, let alone pass the verification.
Coulson focused intently and completed all the verification steps one by one. Each time a data point was successfully matched, the device would light up a green light. The entire process was smooth and seamless, without any signs of lag or failure.
At that moment, Coulson was completely convinced.
This safe house was never truly decommissioned or abandoned; the so-called sealing and hibernation was a deliberate deception from beginning to end.
As the final key verification was successful, the heavy alloy security door slowly opened inward with a deep mechanical turning sound.
A wave of dry, clean, and consistently cool air hit me, without any musty or decaying smell, only the subtle hum of precision equipment running, clearly indicating that this place is maintained and kept in a standby state year-round.
The four exchanged glances, their eyes filled with shock and doubt, before stepping inside one by one.
Behind the door is a long, deep, straight corridor made entirely of alloy material. The walls are clean and tidy, the lighting is soft and stable, and the floor is spotless. Various concealed sensors and protective devices are hidden on both sides of the walls, creating a highly secure and technologically advanced atmosphere.
The corridor was long and led deeper into the corridor, isolating it from all outside sounds of wind, traffic, and people, so quiet that only the sound of the four people's footsteps could be heard.
Walk straight ahead, through the long corridor, and at the end of the passageway, a closed isolation room door stands quietly before you.
The moment they pushed open the door, the scene inside came into full view of the four of them. The four, who had been on the run and had prepared themselves mentally, instantly had their pupils shrink and stood frozen in place, completely shocked.
The room was spacious and simply laid out. One side was equipped with sophisticated medical monitoring instruments, recuperation equipment, and a research workbench. Various medicines and instruments were neatly arranged, demonstrating a level of professionalism far exceeding that of ordinary special agent outposts.
In the center of the room, a man in a clean white lab coat sat at the control panel, head down, focused on adjusting the instrument data. He was steady and his movements were skillful. When he noticed the door open, he slowly looked up and calmly looked at the four people in the doorway. There was no surprise or panic in his eyes, as if he had been waiting for them for a long time.
On the ward bed inside the room, a familiar figure lay quietly, languid and steady, breathing evenly and deeply. Although his face was slightly pale and tired, his vital signs were stable, showing no signs of passing away.
Nick Fury.
The director who was attacked and seriously injured in front of everyone, pronounced dead, had his funeral concluded, and completely withdrew from the S.H.I.E.L.D.. game, is now lying here peacefully, unharmed.
Lynn's words on the rooftop, " Fury isn't that easy to kill," were now completely proven true.
The quiet air inside the room rippled slightly. The man in the white coat slowly lowered his fingers from adjusting the instruments, stopping all his work. His expression was gentle and calm, revealing little emotion, as his gaze swept over the fine marks on the four people at the door.
He silently rose, walked to the corner of the room, lifted the dust cover, and pulled out a heavy, well-sealed medical-grade medical kit. The kit was entirely matte black with precise locking edges, representing S.H.I.E.L.D..'s highest-standard field medical equipment, specifically designed for high-risk trauma emergency treatment.
With a click, the lock popped open, and the man skillfully opened the box, revealing neatly arranged disinfectant, wound dressings, repair ointments, and fine gauze. The instruments were clean and brand new, clearly indicating that they were regularly maintained by a dedicated person and were always ready to be used.
He turned slightly to the four people standing at the door, gesturing for them to sit down. His tone was calm and composed. "Sit down, everyone. Take off your coats. You treated the burns and abrasions from the explosion too roughly; leaving them will create hidden dangers."
The tension that had gripped them during their escape eased slightly. The four exchanged glances, silently took their seats, and removed their dust- and smoke-stained outer combat uniforms. The crisscrossing cuts and large, red burn marks on their skin were now fully exposed, a shocking sight—all marks left by the explosion at the Wheaton base and the days of relentless pursuit.
In the tranquil atmosphere of healing, a hoarse yet extremely familiar voice came from the inner hospital bed, lazy and with a hint of helpless teasing, completely breaking the silence in the room.
"You guys have finally arrived."
Everyone looked up abruptly at the sound, their gazes all focusing on the hospital bed.
Nick Fury, who had been lying quietly, slowly opened his remaining eye. His eyes held no trace of weakness or dejection, only a weary and helpless understanding of everything. His tone was thick with sarcasm. "He has his own backup communication channels, yet he never proactively tests or reports them. When something goes wrong, all he does is run around aimlessly, force his way in, and cause trouble."
"I secretly sent people to contact and search for you countless times, and each time we were just one step away, but you always managed to escape, wasting so many plans and opportunities."
Having witnessed Fury's "death" firsthand, grieving for him for days, and now struggling to escape in Extremis, the group was now experiencing an extreme mix of emotions: astonishment, speechlessness, and a bittersweet feeling.
Coulson was the first to lose his composure, stepping forward with a tone tinged with long-suppressed doubt and a hint of anger, and directly asked, "Chief, since you're alive, why didn't you contact us at all?"
His gaze was fixed on Fury, his words earnest. "We were there the whole time that night. We saw with our own eyes your chest being ripped open by a sharp blade, you were critically wounded and on the verge of death, the medical staff confirmed on the spot that your vital signs had disappeared, and everyone saw with their own eyes that you had sacrificed yourself. We all believed it, and we were filled with grief. How could you have remained completely silent from beginning to end?"
Faced with Coulson's questioning, Fury showed no remorse. Instead, he sighed, his tone full of exasperation, and slowly explained, "I would like to contact you."
"But the four of you, after leaving the hospital and having a brief meeting, started causing trouble and recklessly forcing your way in. I know their wiretapping methods all too well; any unusual communication will be detected."
"I dare not contact you proactively, for fear of signal tracing and being traced back, which could completely cut off your last remaining path to survival. I can only resort to the next best thing: leaving coded messages, risk avoidance tips, and crisis warnings repeatedly on all dedicated backup encrypted channels and secret communication ports."
He raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone utterly speechless. "And the result? You didn't watch it even once, from beginning to end."
These words left everyone present speechless.
Hill immediately frowned and instinctively retorted, her tone full of absurdity. "You had already been confirmed dead, and the whole time you were searching for information and handling the aftermath." Who among us would bother to look through the communication records left by a 'dead person'? No one would have imagined that this was your backup plan.
His words silenced everyone.
The logic is indeed sound, but the ending is absurd and ironic. Everyone was completely kept in the dark about the staged death and the behind-the-scenes scheme, enduring days of torment, risk, and anxiety for nothing.
The atmosphere inside the room became awkward and stagnant for a moment, it was hard to tell whether it was grievance, helplessness, or a mixture of laughter and tears.
After a long silence, Fury was the first to break the strange silence. He slowly adjusted his lying position, his tone returned to calm, and he stopped joking and slowly revealed the real inside story of this shocking fake death.
"Alright, stop with those pitiful looks. You're probably wondering how I managed to fool all the medical staff, the diagnostic equipment, and everyone else, even though my injuries were clearly life-threatening."
His gaze was calm as he slowly revealed the answer, "I used the Tetrodotoxin Subtype B developed and improved by Dr. Banner."
"This specially formulated toxin is extremely unique; it causes virtually no harm to the human body, does not damage organs or impair bodily functions, and its only effect is extreme physiological suppression."
"It can forcibly suppress the body's metabolism, slow down the heart rate, and reduce the pulse and heart rate to once per minute, to the point that even an electrocardiogram monitor cannot detect a valid beat. Breathing becomes so weak that it is almost imperceptible, and body temperature drops simultaneously."
"Ordinary medical instruments and routine vital sign monitoring methods cannot distinguish between a real and a false diagnosis; they will simply determine that vital signs have dropped to zero and declare the person dead."
Fury nodded slightly, his tone tinged with a mixture of emotion and relief. "This was a special emergency drug that Banner researched in his early years. It had almost no effect on him, but no one expected that it would be so effective in creating a perfect state of suspended animation."