Nancy's voice was low but clear, like a spy's whisper, "Agent Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. just called. He wants to meet with you. Do you want to meet Coulson?"
Lance smirked slightly, his characteristic calm and half-mocking smile. "Visiting me at a time like this... aren't you looking for extra trouble?"
Nancy raised an eyebrow, then returned the smile calmly. Her gaze was sharp, as clever as the pocket knife she always concealed. "I haven't officially joined S.H.I.E.L.D., so I don't know much about their internal conditions. But from Coulson's tone... they're drowning in problems."
Lance chuckled softly. "Of course they're in chaos. If not, why would they contact me?"
He stood up from his chair with a lazy movement, stretched his back a little, then dusted off his cloak. Lance's eyes gazed out the window, far beyond, as if he could see the troubles coming from beyond the sky.
"Besides, this place is starting to get boring," Lance muttered. "I need a reason to leave. Meeting them... yeah, why not?"
With that, Lance stepped away.
...
...
...
Warm lights hung from the ceiling of the living room, softly spreading across every corner, reflecting a golden hue on the walls and furniture. The atmosphere felt calm, almost like a silence waiting for something to happen.
Lance sat back on a dark gray plush sofa. The man's eyes sparkled under the light, his gaze sharp yet tranquil. A dagger swung lightly in Lance's hand, spinning slowly between his nimble fingers. Each glint of the metal reflected light like the twinkling stars in the night sky—holding secrets, whispering something ancient.
Coulson would be a while yet, and Lance knew this time was precious—a moment to understand the mysterious object that Lance now held.
Beside Lance, Nancy sat quietly, leaning against the sofa. In Nancy's lap was a sunflower-patterned pillow—Katie's pillow that still carried the scent of home. Nancy's eyes were fixed on the kitchen in the distance, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere.
Some homemade snacks were still left on the table. They had brought them to the party earlier, and now all the utensils had returned with them. Without much conversation, Lance simply tapped the edge of a plate with his fingers, and the plates began to wash themselves. Water flowed, soap danced, the gentle chime of porcelain echoed—like the rhythm of a harp in a quiet night.
Nancy watched it all with wide eyes. Even after several minutes, the wonder had not lost its charm.
Is this... magic?
It was nonsensical. But real.
As Nancy was still entranced by the sound of water and the clinking plates, a soft sound like birdsong floated into her ears, making Nancy turn her head.
The dagger in Lance's hand was now enveloped in a faint light, and glowing patterns appeared on the surface of the dagger—beautiful and delicate—curving and forming the silhouette of a phoenix spreading its wings.
Its light grew brighter. A golden flame enveloped the dagger in a blazing aura... but strangely, there was no heat.
Instead, there was a gentle warm sensation, as if a breath of spring had seeped into Nancy's chest. Nancy felt... comfortable. Calm. Alive.
"What's happening?" Nancy asked, almost whispering, her voice wrapped in awe.
"Nothing much," Lance replied softly. He swung the dagger slowly. Lance's movements were calm, like the dance of an ancient priest in a secret ceremony. The light on the blade of the dagger flickered, creating a shadow of wings that trembled... then vanished in a flash of light. "I have awakened the sealed power within this dagger. As I suspected—there is a phoenix spirit within this dagger."
This phoenix was not a creature that destroys galaxies. Not a cosmic entity from comics. Not the Phoenix Force. This... was something else, more sacred.
A being from Eastern mythology. A firebird that brings renewal and life.
The fire was not a fire that harms. The phoenix heals. Revives. The Phoenix Fire.
This dagger was clearly not a product of modern times. Like the Breath of Blue that can seal dragon spirits, this one, the Kris knives—dubbed the Phoenix Dagger—contained the essence of a phoenix.
But this dagger... was only half.
According to John, the dagger was part of a pair. Two inseparable twin weapons.
The Twin Kris knives.
Lance looked at Nancy, his eyes narrowing slightly, reading her expression. "Can you use the dagger?"
Nancy paused, then nodded slowly. "Of course. We were trained in various types of weapons. Dagger is one of the main ones."
A small smile appeared on Lance's face—thin, but genuine. "Good. Once I find its pair... the other will be yours."
A promise. But also a kind of destiny.
Weapons like this should not be used for cheap sacrificial rituals. Too precious, too alive to be made into uncertain offerings. Nancy's potential was too great to be wasted.
Vivi already possesses the Rainbow Erosion Fang. Christine has mastered the Breath of Blue Glory. Both of them have their own legendary equipment.
Now, it's Nancy's turn.
The Kris knives will belong to Nancy.
Nancy froze for a moment. Her eyes were fixed on the glowing dagger. Her breath caught. "I can use the dagger... but I don't know how to control a magical weapon like this..."
"Don't worry," Lance said, looking deeply into her eyes. "You will learn it soon."
For an ordinary person, the Phoenix Fire is something untouchable. But Nancy is about to become more than ordinary. With the White Lantern Ring and the Fullbring power that Nancy will learn, she will be able to control that fire. Just like Vivi. Just like Christine.
And perhaps... even more than they do.
Congratulations to Lance! The White Lantern Corps now has a new member.
Unfortunately... the number of women is more dominant, and this group is slowly slipping into the brink of irrelevance.
From a distance, footsteps could be heard approaching—precise, steady, and without doubt.
Coulson has arrived.
With a casual gesture, Lance raised a finger. The large wooden door that was previously tightly closed suddenly opened slowly, silently.
However, on the other side of the door, Coulson was still knocking hesitantly.
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