CHAPTER 158: CHAPTER 158: TEA WITH OLD FRIENDS PART - 1

The next morning found Arthur in the manor’s kitchen, watching Ariadne methodically eat breakfast while reviewing surveillance photos spread across the mahogany table. She’d been at it since dawn, cross-referencing guard rotations with architectural blueprints, marking entry points with colored pins that formed a rainbow of tactical planning.

"You should eat something more substantial," Arthur said, eyeing her single piece of toast with concern. "You’ll need the energy."

"I’m fine." She didn’t look up from the photos, her finger tracing a patrol route for the third time.

"At least let me go over the magical items one more time. The Peruvian Darkness Powder has a specific activation method—"

"Arthur." She finally looked at him, expression patient but firm. "I appreciate the concern, but your hovering isn’t helping. I’ve memorized everything. Twice."

"I’m not hovering."

"You’ve been standing in that exact spot for twenty minutes."

"I’m... observing."

"You’re nagging." She softened the words with a slight smile. "I know you’re worried, but I need to focus. Alone."

Before Arthur could formulate a proper rebuttal, the Kree communicator on his wrist buzzed with an incoming transmission. He’d taken to wearing it regularly since reconnecting with Carol.

Arthur tapped his forearm, and Carol’s holographic face flickered into view, looking uncharacteristically... chipper.

"Arthur! Perfect timing," she said, her voice crackling slightly. "Get your wizardly ass over here. Maria’s. Now."

"Carol? What’s the emergency? Did Maria kick you and Monica out of the house already?"

"No. Though she was on the verge of doing exactly that many times last night." Carol’s grin was audible even through the distortion. "Listen, Fury and Talos just showed up. Apparently, some ’unidentified individuals’ were spotted at the farm yesterday, and Fury—bless his paranoid little heart—took the first flight out from D.C. He’s practically vibrating with curiosity. Thinks we’re plotting galactic domination over sweet tea. Come join the fun. It’ll be hilarious."

Arthur glanced at Ariadne, who was already waving him off with ink-stained fingers. "Go," she said. "I’ll feel better and be in the best state without you nagging all the time."

"Fine," Arthur said into the communicator. "Give me five minutes."

He ended the call and turned back to Ariadne. "Duty calls. Apparently, I need to reassure a certain one-eyed agent that I’m not about to take over the Milky Way galaxy."

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "Are your friends just as annoying as you?"

"I take offense to that." Arthur placed a hand over his heart in mock indignation. "Anyway..."

He turned toward Winky, who had materialized with her usual impeccable timing, dust cloth still in hand. "Keep an eye on her."

"Winky knows. Winky is ready."

Arthur looked back at Ariadne one more time. "Good luck. Not that you’ll need it."

"Luck is for amateurs," she replied, already returning to her photos. "I have preparation."

With that, Arthur disapparated with a sharp crack, choosing the magical method over a portal. No need to show Fury all his tricks and have him searching the globe for the source.

—

He appeared in the Rambeaus’ backyard, immediately casting a disillusionment charm to avoid breaking the Statute of Secrecy, no matter how useless he thought it was in the soon to be age of aliens and enhanced individuals.

The scene inside the cozy living room was exactly as Carol had described. Maria was refilling a pitcher of iced tea, looking amused. Monica was perched on the arm of Carol’s chair, chattering excitedly. Talos, in his human guise, was examining a family photo with polite interest. And Nick Fury, sitting rigidly on the sofa, radiated suspicion like a poorly shielded reactor.

Arthur knocked on the back door, enjoying the way Fury’s hand twitched toward his concealed weapon.

"It’s open!" Maria called.

He entered to find five pairs of eyes on him, with varying degrees of welcome. Monica beamed, Carol looked relieved, Maria nodded politely, Talos offered a lazy wave, and Fury glowered with the intensity of a man who’d found too many unknowns in his equations.

"Agent Fury," Arthur said cheerfully, pulling out a chair. "You look well. The new eyepatch really completes the whole ’spymaster’ aesthetic."

"Hayes." Fury’s voice could have frozen helium.

Arthur tilted his head. "What’s with the tone, Fury? Did I break any laws?"

"What about illegally entering United States airspace without proper documentation?"

"What are you going to do? Deport me?" Arthur’s grin was sharp as a blade.

"I’d love to, but I know it wouldn’t work."

Carol intervened before the verbal sparring could escalate. "Okay, okay. Let’s not get too serious. We’re here to have fun, not fight."

Arthur leaned back in his chair. "As if Fury could fight me?"

"I’d ask Carol to fight you," Fury shot back.

Carol opened her mouth to respond, but Arthur cut her off. "Oh, she and I did fight yesterday—or was it the day before? Difficult to keep track of time when you’re hopping between planets. Well, I’ll have you know I was the winner in the end."

The room went silent. Fury’s good eye widened fractionally—the equivalent of another person’s jaw hitting the floor.

"You... beat Carol?" His voice was carefully controlled, each word measured.

"Yes, and the fight didn’t last long." Arthur accepted a glass of iced tea from Maria with a grateful nod. "Don’t look so shocked. I’m the one who fought off a Kree bombardment while she was having her power-up montage, remember? And that was three years ago. I’ve gotten considerably stronger since then."

"How much stronger?" Talos asked, genuinely curious.

Arthur considered the question. "If I wanted—and this is purely hypothetical—I could probably conquer Earth in a week. A few trips to key locations, some strategic threats here and there, a handful of well-placed spells, and it would be over."

"You wouldn’t," Fury said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Of course not. Ruling is tedious. All those ceremonies, meetings, paperwork, people constantly asking for things." Arthur shuddered theatrically. "I’d rather fight another dark lord. At least that’s straightforward."

"Then what do you want?"

"Currently? To finish my tea without being glared at like I’m about to steal the Crown Jewels. Long-term? To be left alone unless there’s something interesting happening." Arthur’s expression hardened slightly. "But let me be crystal clear, Fury. I don’t care about your rules, your organizations, or your threat assessments. Touch me or the people I care about, and you’ll discover exactly how creative I can be when properly motivated."

"Is that a threat?"

"It’s a statement of fact. Like saying water is wet or Carol is terrible at poker."

"Hey!" Carol protested, nearly spilling her drink. "I’m excellent at poker."

"You literally glow when you bluff," Maria pointed out dryly.

"Only a little!"

Fury ignored the byplay, his focus laser-sharp on Arthur. "What if someone pushes you? What if they threaten... people close to you? What then?"

A cold smile touched Arthur’s lips. "Then they’ll find out exactly how dangerous I can be. I don’t know what an angry me looks like, Fury. Neither do you. And frankly, I’d prefer we never find out. So maybe, just maybe, don’t poke the wizard who can bend space to his will."

Fury exhaled sharply, shifting tactics. "Fine. Let’s talk about your... associates. The one systematically attacking the Hand across Europe. She’s causing chaos. Several governments are demanding we intervene, put a stop to it."

Arthur waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, you mean my friend Ariadne? She’s not my associate; she’s on a personal vendetta against an organization called The Hand. Nasty bunch—human trafficking, drugs, assassination, the whole evil package. I’m not controlling her, and it certainly isn’t my idea. I dismantled the underworld once; I have zero interest in doing it again. But how does this fall under SHIELD’s jurisdiction? I haven’t gotten any warnings from MI6 or anyone from Europe."

"It becomes SHIELD’s job when you’re involved."

"I’m honored by the special attention." Arthur’s voice dripped sarcasm. "But again, I tried stopping her. She’s adamant."

"So you’re just going to let her wage her private war?" Fury pressed.

"If you arrest her, fine. I might break her out later, but I’ll also use the time she’s in prison to convince her that maybe, just maybe, there are better ways to spend her life than getting shot at by hundreds of gang members." Arthur paused, meeting Fury’s gaze directly. "But as long as you don’t kill her, we’re good. And honestly, Fury, isn’t the world better off without The Hand?"

"Vigilante justice—"

"Is sometimes the only justice available," Arthur interrupted smoothly. "Your own operations aren’t exactly legal, Fury. All those Skrulls you’re harboring, for instance."

Monica, who’d been quiet until now, piped up. "Wait, if this is such a big deal, why haven’t I seen anything about it on TV?"

Arthur turned to her with a teacher’s patience. "What you see on television has been reviewed by people like Fury. You don’t see anything they don’t want you seeing. Think about it—if it was known that one person was trying to destroy criminal gangs and the governments, instead of helping her, were stopping her? It would lead to protests, maybe even toppling of governments."

"But why?" Monica pressed.

"Same reason superheroes aren’t liked by authorities. It makes the officials look weak or corrupt, possibly in bed with the criminals they claim to fight."