The investigation wasn't over. Not by a long shot. "You said Levels Twelve and Thirteen. Which specifically is Cindy in? Can't you narrow it down?"
"NEGATIVE. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO TELL WITHOUT INSIDER INFORMATION."
"All these schematics and we can't find out? Why?"
"THE SCHEMATICS I HAVE CURRENTLY SHOWN ON YOU ARE BASED ON THE ORIGINAL PROPOSAL MADE BY NICK FURY. AND AS MENTIONED, THE NEW SHIELD FACILITY HAS BEEN GIVEN A UNIQUE STATUS AS ITS OWN INDEPENDENT ORGANIZATION IN ORDER IT IS TO STOP ANOTHER INCIDENT LIKE WITH REED. THIS IS LARGELY BECAUSE THEY CANNOT FATHOM HOW HE INFILTRATED IT, OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT HE DID."
"So they've completely isolated it." Felix ended up chuckling. "Dammit, Reed. Making things complicated, even to the end."
Levels Fourteen and Fifteen were next.
"FACILITY FAIL-SAFE SYSTEMS," Herbie explained. "REACTOR ISOLATION. STRUCTURAL SEPARATION. EMERGENCY SCUTTLE CHARGES."
"Potential escape route," Felix remarked.
"PRECISELY."
Finally, Level Sixteen. "LEVEL SIXTEEN HOLDS ANCHOR AND STABILITY SYSTEMS, BEDROCK PYLONS, AND SEISMIC DAMPENERS."
"Hm. So not something we need to worry about."
The full structure settled on-screen. "SECURITY SUMMARY," Herbie said. "NO EXTERNAL INTERNET ACCESS. AIR-GAPPED INTERNAL NETWORK. ONE-WAY DATA RELAY. MULTI-FACTOR AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED AT ALL LEVELS. DESIGNED FOR NINETY DAYS OF AUTONOMOUS OPERATION."
Felix leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. "So," he said after a moment, "it's almost like a fortress-warehouse-prison. For people SHIELD doesn't know what to do with."
"CORRECT," Herbie replied. "PRIMARY DESIGN GOAL: CONTAINMENT OF ENHANCED HUMANS AT OR ABOVE THE SUPER-SOLDIER THRESHOLD."
Felix stared at the schematic. "I could swim my way through if I make a suitable suit...."
'Hngghh…' Rash did not like that idea.
"But at those pressures, still risky. What material on Earth could withstand that kind of pressure? Only Adamantium and Vibranium, really."
"AGREED. AND THERE IS THE CONSIDERATION OF TIME. I CANNOT FATHOM THE TIME NECESSARY TO CREATE SUCH A SUIT FOR YOU AND THE SYMBIOTE."
"Most the Symbiote." He exhaled slowly. He considered his choices. "Yeah, I'll need help. People with specific skills."
"AGREED, MASTER FAETH. HOWEVER, THERE IS ANOTHER REASON FOR THE INCLUSION OF OTHERS."
"Hrm? What?"
"IT IS REGARDING WHAT WILL BE NECESSARY IN ORDER TO INFILTRATE THIS LOCATION. THE SCHEMATICS I HAVE CURRENTLY SHOWN ARE LARGELY BUILT ON NICK FURY'S ORIGINAL PROPOSAL."
"Meaning it's changed. I know. We'll have to re-gather information and blueprints. That'll be easy, we just have to..."
Ah.
"...to find the people that were either responsible for its creation or faculty members..." he trailed off. "And since there's no physical documents that they can give me..."
He looked up at the monitor and then his own hands. He stared. He contemplated.
"Do the ends justify the means?" Felix suddenly asked aloud. "In order to beat this Devil, will I really have to..."
Felix fell silent. A lump of fear bobbed down his throat.
***
Phone tucked between shoulder and ear, lounged sideways on the edge of the hotel bed, was Felicia Hardy.
"I'm telling you, the acoustics were terrible. I don't care how historic the venue is—if the sound system fights you, you lose every time."
But not that Felicia Hardy. Not the thief. This was Earth-65's Felicia. This was the singer. She looked nothing like her thieving counterpart at first glance; dark skin, sharp cheekbones, white hair cut into an asymmetric fall. The similarities only surfaced the longer one watched her. The same catlike stillness. The same knowing eyes. The same way she smiled like she was already three moves ahead.
She put the phone down, sighing. "How annoying."
Across from her, perched barefoot on the windowsill, sat the thieving Felicia Hardy. Pale skin, white hair, the Black Cat. "Ha, listening to you sometimes makes me annoyed. You're so demanding."
"Says the lady who never uses the door. That's way more demanding than anything I do."
"Different universes, different legalities."
"I doubt breaking and entering is legal in any universe, Felicia."
They laughed together. San Francisco stretched out beneath them in a sprawl of lights and fog. The hotel was expensive, anonymous, and deliberately forgettable. Rogue was also here, leaned against the far wall, arms folded, quietly observing the exchange with mild amusement.
This was Rogue's first time meeting this Felicia Hardy. By coincidence, she had been there during her arrest. Her backstory was nothing special: this Felicia was from France and a former thief alongside her father. They were successful, to the point that they were able to steal from the Kingpin himself. Matt Murdock sent to make an example of them. And so a dead man fell in an alley and a girl was left alone with nothing but her voice.
Singing for spare change. Singing to survive. Singing until the world noticed.
A career that burned fast and bright. A concert staged like a trap. An invitation left for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The Hand spilling into the crowd like rot. Spider-Woman stepping in. A punch thrown not to save Murdock, but to stop Felicia from killing him. She was put into a SHIELD facility, albeit not for long. Celebs had extra privileges. People tried to deny it, but it was true.
Rogue exhaled softly through her nose. "You two really do sound alike."
Earth-65 Felicia smirked. "That's what happens when the universe runs outta ideas."
Felicia snorted. "Rude." She stretched, arms over her head, when a faint, sharp chirp cut through the room.
Then another, and another. Felicia blinked thrice.
Her eyes dropped instantly to the small spider-bot resting on the nightstand, its legs flexing in tiny, precise twitches. The sound wasn't random. It was patterned.
Beep. Beep-beep. Pause. Beep.
"Oh," she murmured.
Rogue straightened. "What?"
Felicia rolled off the bed and scooped the bot up, turning it slightly, listening more closely now. Her expression shifted from lazy to alert in the span of a second.
"…Morse," she said.
Earth-65 Felicia blinked. "You're kidding. Wait, so you really ARE in contact with Spider-Man!?"
Felicia nodded. "Yep. That's definitely him."
She translated under her breath, fingers tapping unconsciously against the casing as the sequence repeated.
Her shoulders sagged as realization settled in. She yawned, rubbing at one eye with her knuckle. "Damn it. I was really hoping for at least one full night of sleep."
Even Rogue had to do a double-take. "He's calling us already?"
"Not us," Felicia replied. "Felix—"
"Felix!?" Rogue brightened. "Why didn't you say so!? Let's get going already!"
"Felix?" Earth-65 Felicia furrowed her brows. "Who's Felix? Is he hot or something?"
Felicia giggled. "I prefer the spider."
"He's a scientist, he's amazing," Rogue insisted. She was already walking to the door. "Come on, let's—"
"Calm your horses. It's not an emergency and it's pretty far too."
"Far? Like how far?" Rogue asked.
"Well…" Felicia paused. "There's one more thing. According to the message, Felix specifically asked for me."
Rogue's smile fell steeply. "...ha?"
***
Two days passed. Felicia arrived just before dusk, when the light along the coast started to flatten into gray and gold.
Norfolk, Virginia wasn't glamorous, but it was useful. A working port city with too many piers, too many warehouses, and entire neighborhoods that the rest of the country forgot about unless a ship ran aground or a storm came through. Seagulls cried somewhere overhead, bold and annoying, like they owned the place.
The café sat on a quiet corner a few blocks from the water, wedged between a shuttered bait shop and a boarded-up laundromat. Its sign—HARBORLIGHT COFFEE—hung crooked, one letter missing, the windows dark and dust-filmed. Someone had tried to paint over graffiti on the brick and given up halfway through.
Felicia parked across the street and got out, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Obviously she wasn't in costume, just jeans, boots, and a jacket that looked worn enough not to stand out.
In this world there were two things that motivated her: finding the Auction Master and money. She was promised the latter today.
She didn't know the details aside from it being a break-in around this area and the fact that it was a request from Felix Faeth. It was strange that Spider-Man and Felix were so close. "Probably his supplier or something," she mused to herself.
She crossed the street, heels crunching softly over grit and broken glass, and pushed the café door open. It creaked loudly.
The place was stripped nearly bare. Tables stacked upside down. Chairs gone. The counter was still there, scarred and chipped, with an old espresso machine rusting behind it like a fossil. Light filtered in through grimy windows, cutting the dust into slow-moving bands.
Someone was already there.
A blonde woman leaned against the counter, arms crossed, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. She wore a dark jacket, tactical pants, and boots that had seen real use. Her hair was pulled back tight and her emotions were decidedly not neutral.
Felicia stopped just inside the doorway.
"…Huh," Felicia said lightly. "This feels like a trap."
The woman smiled without warmth. "You always say that?"
Felicia tilted her head, studying her. "Depends. You gonna introduce yourself, or are we doing the long, awkward stare first?"
"Yelena Belova," the woman said. "You probably don't remember me."
Felicia's brow creased slightly.
Yelena's smile sharpened. "You kidnapped my friend once. Kate Bishop?"
"Ohhh." The recognition hit her and Felicia cackled. "In my defense, money is money."
"You drugged her."
"She was still annoying afterward."
Yelena pushed off the counter, boots scraping softly against tile. "You're lucky. Kate isn't interested in pursuing you and the guy I'm here for also isn't."
Felicia shrugged. "I have that effect."
The door behind Felicia opened again. The temperature in the room seemed to change. Heavy footsteps crossed the threshold.
Felicia glanced back—and looked up.
The man who entered was enormous. Broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his coat, thick arms held close to his sides, posture rigid with contained force. His presence filled the doorway, blocked the light, made the café feel suddenly much smaller.
M'Baku.
Felicia didn't know him personally, but she knew of him. The Wakandan who had once challenged a king. The man who had tried—unsuccessfully—to assassinate T'Challa years ago and lived to tell the tale.
Yelena blinked. Once.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Yelena muttered.
M'Baku's dark eyes swept the room, assessing, dismissive. They landed on Felicia for half a second, then moved on, uninterested.
"Where is Felix?" he asked.
Felicia opened her mouth to respond—
"Ah—sorry! Sorry, I'm late."
—and then a voice came from behind the counter.
Felix emerged from a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, looking exactly like he did when he didn't want to be noticed. Slightly rumpled jacket. Hair not quite behaving. A tablet tucked under one arm like he might drop it at any moment.
He froze when he saw everyone assembled.
"Oh. Good. Everyone's here," Felix said, visibly relieved. Then, hurriedly, "And—uh—thanks for coming. All of you."
M'Baku's gaze fixed on him. "You summoned us."
"Yes. Right. That. I did." Felix adjusted his collar. "I've set everything up. Location's secure, but we shouldn't stay out here."
He gestured back toward the rear of the café. "If you'll come with me, please. We can talk in private."
Felicia watched him for a beat, then smirked faintly.
"Well," she said, stepping forward, "you did promise money."
They moved deeper into the café, past the counter and through the narrow doorway Felix had come from. The back rooms were darker, tighter—storage spaces that smelled faintly of mold and old beans. Wooden boards were stacked everywhere, leaning against walls, laid across tables, some tagged with marker notes and strips of tape. It looked less like a café now and more like a temporary war room built by someone who hadn't planned on staying long.
Felix flicked on a portable work light. It cast a harsh white glow over the room.
Maps were pinned to corkboards. Names written in black marker. Strings of red thread connecting faces to locations, companies, dates. Tablets and laptops were scattered across a folding table at the center, humming quietly.
Felicia let out a low whistle. "Wow. Cozy. You always do this, or am I special?"
"You're special," Felix said automatically, then winced. "I mean—professionally. You're professionally special."
Yelena snorted and crossed her arms. "Start talking, Felix. You don't gather this kind of company for small talk."
M'Baku remained standing near the doorway, arms folded, eyes scanning the boards. "You told me this concerns a prison," he said. "And SHIELD."
Yelena glanced over, as did Felicia. He told M'Baku a bit more, it seemed.
"Yes," Felix said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But not directly. Not yet."
He took a breath, then another, steadying himself. "There's someone in SHIELD custody. Cindy Moon. Possibly Matt Murdock as well—depending on how things unfold." He paused, watching their faces for reactions.
Felicia shrugged. "Heard worse reasons to get dragged out of bed."
Yelena tilted her head. "Why them?"
Felix explained and lied, "Cindy Moon was involved in a medical research project. One that predates her arrest. I need to talk to her about it. Clarify some things. As for Murdock… he's a contingency. He knows people. That's all."
"So you want to talk to two dangerous criminals. Literally, some of the most dangerous people to ever live in New York. You know that SHIELD doesn't let people just… have conversations," Yelena finished.
"Exactly. I know. It'll be tough, so if any of you want to back out..." Felix's eyes flicked between everyone.
M'Baku nodded first. "It matters not to me. I have a debt. Speak, and I will listen."
Felix inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you, M'Baku."
Felicia leaned back against a table, arms crossed. "And I'm here because you said you'd pay."
"Yes."
Yelena sighed. "I'm here because you helped me once. And because I'm bored." She narrowed her eyes at him. "But don't mistake that for blind trust."
Felix accepted that with a small nod.
He reached down and pulled a compact, rectangular device from a case on the table. Matte black, about the size of a thick book, with faintly glowing seams along its edges.
Felicia's eyes lit up. "Oh. That thing. You still have it, huh?"
Yelena's lips twitched. "The Little Thief."
"What is it?" M'Baku asked.
Felicia grinned. "I stole it."
"For him," Yelena added flatly.
Felix cleared his throat. "It recreates environments. You feed it data—blueprints, police reports, witness accounts, materials, timelines. It doesn't predict perfectly, but it gives us a working model. A place we can… walk through."
He tapped the device. It hummed, projecting a faint green holographic grid across the room before fading again. He had not yet inputted any data. "But," Felix continued, "we're not using it on the SHIELD facility."
That got their attention.
Yelena frowned. "Why not?"
"Because we don't know enough," Felix said. "Not even close. Fury wiped everything. No public blueprints. No contractors listed. No digital trail that matters."
Felicia squinted at the boards. "So what's all this?"
Felix stepped aside, gesturing to the largest corkboard. Names were written in neat columns.
"There are two kinds of people that have a human connection to the SHIELD underwater prison: the people that used to work there and the people who built it," he said. "Some SHIELD, some not. Doesn't really matter if they are or aren't; what matters is who can help us paint the most accurate picture. I've decided that former workers are not very viable."
He pointed at some of the other boards.
"The facility only recently opened, literally last year, so there aren't many former workers. I estimate there are only four."
"Estimate? Did you hack SHIELD or something?" Yelena interrupted. "Sorry, I mean, I should have expected it but...are you sure you weren't caught?"
"Very sure," Felix said flatly. "Trust me, they don't even know. Anyway, my point is that these names here..." He tapped on a column labelled "FW" or Former Workers. "Among these four names, we're going to choose one and only one."
"Why's that?" Felicia asked.
"Because of timing and these guys." He shifted his finger to the next column of names labelled "IC". "IC stands for Important Creators. As you can see..." His index finger dragged all the way down. "There are dozens of names. I've drawn stars on the three we should focus on. This civil engineer Walter Newell, for example, he oversaw pressure-resistant foundations. He's important. We need him. And another is this naval architect, Lei Ling. She aided in designing the cells."
"I see only two names with stars for ICs," Felicia pointed out.
"That's because I theorize there is a project manager who coordinated the whole facility all without ever being told the full picture. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten a name. But regardless, we need to hit all four targets at the same time. One former worker, and three important creators."
M'Baku studied the various boards. The connections Felix made were highly detailed and astonishing. Finding dates of when the FW were gone and when they returned. Hell, Yelena squinted when Felix seemed to find out that a company that a certain engineer was working for was in fact a shell company owned by SHIELD.
All in all, his investigation seemed sound.
"Hrm. Walter Newell…Lei Ling…" M'Baku repeated.
"They have incredible resumes, so there's no doubt on my mind about them. But for the project manager, it's hard to pick out one genius or veteran out of dozens," Felix explained. He started pointing again. "Fury was unfathomably thorough with wiping away data."
"Four targets...but they are not soldiers or armed people," Yelena added pointedly.
"No," Felix said quietly. "They're not."
"And you just said there isn't any physical evidence." Yelena's jaw tightened. "You're talking about interrogation. You want each of us to peak out an interrogation target."
"Yes. Yes, I do."
The word hung in the air. Interrogation. They were selected to interrogate these people. At the end of the day, Felix Faeth was scientist. He was some guy. None of them realized or recognized that he was something more or that he wanted more. It was partially why he didn't pick someone like Aaron Davis. He would say no. He would say this wasn't like Felix or that this wasn't necessary. He would ask questions.
Felicia didn't blink. "Okay." She had morals, but those morals could be bought. Felix himself had experienced it.
M'Baku nodded once. "If this is the path, we walk it." M'Baku owed him the dignity of his life; from standing around nude to the whims of a princess to being able to walk free.
Only Yelena was hesitant. She looked between them, then back to Felix. "They were just doing their jobs, Felix. Are you sure about this? Really sure?"
"I know," Felix said. His voice was softer now. "And I hate that it's come to this. Fury built this place to never be compromised. Ever. He would rather burn the ocean than let someone walk in uninvited."
"I don't know, Felix, it's just…"
'This isn't you?'
Felix's heart seemed to go pitter-patter. He could feel that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't him.
"The ends..." Felix couldn't believe he was saying this but he had to. For himself. To himself. "...justify the means. What Cindy Moon has could save people. If a couple people are going to be hurt for it, then…so be it. Because there's no other way."
'I have no other means of getting information on the Auction Master. I'm desperate here. Please, Yelena…'
Yelena searched his face. "I heard about you did in New York. You're a hero to people because of what you did. Is there really no other choice? Is this medicine that worth it?"
Felix looked away, guilty. "I'm...not as smart as you can. Or as heroic. What I'm asking for could end certain diseases. Save millions."
Liar, liar, liar. In order to save his own skin, in order to maintain being Spider-Man, he was spouting lies. Nonsense. The only aspect of life he was pursuing was death. The only thing he was after was the Auction Master. The Devil.
But he was dangerous. He was unstable. He was causing political havoc. He needed to be taken down...right?
Yes. Yes, he did. He killed Pepper Potts. He killed Harry Osborn. That kind of ideology was too dangerous to be allowed to run amok. Spider-Man had to act. Felix had to act.
"You're different when you say that."
Felix met her gaze, unflinching. "Because this matters."
A long silence followed.
Finally, Yelena exhaled. "I don't like that you are the one asking for this."
"So…?"
Yelena straightened. "But I'm in."
Felicia let out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Yelena, you won't regret it. I needed you all since, well, if one of them gets interrogated—"
"Fury probably has agents around them. One of them gets hurt, the agent will signal to mother SHIELD, and the department will go into panic mode," Yelena finished.
"And he's the Director of SHIELD now," Felix continued. "So he has the full power of SHIELD behind him. I've already confirmed that since his appointment, he's sent better SHIELD agents around the former workers and important creators."
Yelena did a double-take. "Excuse me, what!? Nick Fury is Director of SHIELD now!? What happened to Peggy Carter."
Felicia cleared her throat. "Ah. Bit of a story, that. Let's just say Peggy Carter is out of commission."
M'Baku didn't care. It made no difference who was running SHIELD or why.
Felix sighed. "We can tell stories for later. For now…" He turned. "Our focus is on these two: Walter Newell and Lei Ling. Through them, we'll find out third target, the project manager."
"What about the former worker?" Felicia asked. "There's four of them - which are we going after?"
"Who else but the person that came out most recently?" Felix pointed at the final name in the FW column. "Sharon Carter."