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35 Gods Among Mortals
🕑 Added 2024-10-25 18:15:01 +0000 UTCHarry and Coulson walked side by side along the exterior of the SHIELD base. The sun had set long ago, and the facility was the only area lit up in the barren desert. Harry moved with purpose, murmuring ancient Latin incantations under his breath. With each whispered word, a subtle shimmer spread out from the point of contact of his feet, blending seamlessly with the earth, creating a nearly invisible detection ward. The ward would alert him the moment anyone crossed the perimeter.
Coulson watched Harry’s movements, feeling the weight of the silence between them. He knew that Harry was still nursing wounds—emotional ones, the kind that didn’t heal quickly. The tension from their earlier conversation, where Coulson had inadvertently made light of Harry’s situation with a joke about tazing Tony Stark, lingered awkwardly in the air.
Phil, usually so confident in handling people, felt uncharacteristically hesitant. He considered his words carefully, knowing he needed to tread lightly. As they reached the next checkpoint, he finally broke the silence.
Coulson cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “We reached out to Professor Elliot Randolph at the University of Seville. He’s an expert in ancient languages and Norse mythology. He analyzed the inscriptions we found on the hammer and sent back his interpretation. They roughly translate to something like, ‘He who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm.’ It’s quite poetic, in a way.”
Harry nodded, his eyes still scanning the perimeter as they walked. “It’s fitting,” he said, his voice contemplative. “If the legends are true, that hammer isn’t just a weapon. It’s a conduit for incredible power.”
Coulson glanced at Harry, trying to gauge his mood. “There’s more,” he continued, encouraged by Harry’s response. “Professor Randolph also mentioned the triquetra symbol on the side. He believes it represents the connection between Asgard, Midgard—our Earth—and Utgard, which is linked to Jotunheim. These are key realms in Norse mythology, apparently part of the Nine Realms.”
Harry stopped for a moment, considering the information. “The triquetra isn’t just decorative,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s the rune that’s anchoring the hammer to the ground, keeping it immovable. The magic involved is ancient and incredibly powerful.”
Coulson nodded, impressed by Harry’s quick assessment. “If our speculations are right, then this hammer could be the legendary Mjolnir, the source of Thor’s power. It’s fascinating to think that it might be connected not just to Norse mythology, but to something even older. We’re way out of our depth here, but that’s what makes it exciting, doesn’t it?”
Harry finally turned to look at Coulson, his expression softer now. “It’s not every day you come across something like this,” he admitted. “But if this really is connected to Asgard, then we’re dealing with something—or someone—beyond anything we’ve encountered before.”
Coulson frowned slightly. “You think someone’s coming for it?”
“I’m sure of it,” Harry replied, his voice firm. “The hammer is calling out. It’s only a matter of time before its rightful owner, or perhaps even its enemies, come to claim it.”
Coulson glanced at Harry as they continued walking, the silence between them lingering just a little too long. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up, especially after everything that had happened earlier. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had to ask.
“So... a wizard, huh?” Coulson said carefully, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution. “That’s, uh, one hell of a secret to keep from a friend. You didn’t think this was worth mentioning, I don’t know, at some point?”
Harry didn’t meet Coulson’s gaze at first. His expression remained unreadable, but after a moment, he let out a quiet sigh and gave a small, sad smile. “It’s not exactly something you just drop into casual conversation, Phil.”
“I suppose not,” Coulson replied, though his curiosity was clearly piqued. He hesitated before continuing, trying to strike the right balance between curiosity and respect. “How... how does someone even become a wizard? Were you born with these powers, or did you get it from somewhere else?”
Harry nodded, his voice carrying a note of something deeper sorrow, perhaps, or weariness. “Yeah. I’ve had these powers ever since I was born. It’s not something I chose, it’s just... a part of my soul I guess.”
Coulson looked thoughtful, his brows furrowing as he tried to wrap his head around the enormity of what Harry was saying. “And are there... others like you? I mean, I saw the monk in yellow earlier, the one who stopped you from picking up the hammer. Is she...?”
Harry finally turned to face Coulson, his expression more open now, though still guarded. “No,” he said quietly. “There’s no one like me here. Not in this universe, at least.” His gaze drifted for a moment as if lost in memories of another world. “Yao—she’s different. She and her people are part of an ancient order. A secret group that protects this world, this universe, from Interdimensional threats.
Harry continued, “They use magic too, but it’s not like mine. My magic... it’s internal. It’s part of my very being, tied to my soul. Their magic, the kind Yao and her followers use—it’s borrowed. They draw it from the chaos dimension, tapping into energies that don’t belong to them. It’s powerful, but it’s different. Dangerous, if mishandled.”
Coulson’s mind started to piece together the puzzle of past events, the memories of Harry’s unexpected appearances flashing through his mind. “Is that how you were able to make sure none of my team died when we were up against the Iron Monger?” he asked, his voice tinged with the realization that the baffling moments he’d witnessed over the years might finally explain.
Harry looked at him, a faint smile playing on his lips, but there was a hint of weariness in his eyes. “I didn’t do much then, Phil,” he replied, his tone modest but honest. “By the time I got to you guys, I was already running on fumes. The injuries your team had weren’t as bad as they could have been. All I did was a bit of magical first aid to stabilize things, to make sure no one was in immediate danger.”
Coulson nodded slowly, his thoughts still turning over the implications of what Harry was saying. “You make it sound like it was nothing, but... it’s more than most people could have done. Stane was... well, he was a lot of things, but that suit—he could’ve wiped us all out.”
Harry’s expression darkened slightly as he remembered that day. “Stane was dangerous, but he was also inexperienced with the suit. It was the first time he had used the suit. If he had... things might’ve gone very differently.”
Coulson absorbed that, the weight of what could have happened settling in. “Still, you were there when we needed you. I always thought it was just luck... or maybe something else. But magic... it makes a lot of sense now.”
Harry gave a small, almost rueful chuckle. “It’s not always as reliable as you might think. But yeah, I was there. And I’ll keep being there, as long as I can.”
Coulson looked at Harry, a newfound understanding in his eyes. “You know, for a long time, I wondered how you managed to pull off some of those things that I had read in your military file. You always seemed to show up just in time, like you knew where to be before things went south. Now I know why.”
Harry shrugged slightly; his gaze thoughtful. “It’s not just magic, Phil. Sometimes, it’s just instinct. And a bit of luck. But I’m glad I could help, even if I wasn’t always able to do as much as I wanted.”
Coulson smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad you were there. And I’m glad you’re here now.”
“How did you train yourself in magic if you’re the only wizard around?” Phil asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Harry’s lips curved into a cryptic smile. “Where else? In a school for wizards and witches.”
Phil frowned slightly, trying to make sense of Harry's words. “But you just said you’re the only wizard in this universe. How could there be a—” He paused, the realization dawning on him. “Oh, wait…”
Harry’s smile widened just a fraction as he watched Phil piece it together. The truth was there, hovering just out of reach, but before Phil could fully grasp the implications of Harry’s statement, the moment was interrupted when Harry’s senses alerted him of an intruder.
“There’s a perimeter breach,” Harry stated calmly, though the slight tension in his voice betrayed his alertness. The sky began to grumble ominously, a bolt of lightning cracking across the clouds before the rain poured down in torrents. The weather seemed almost too fitting. “You think the god of thunder is back to claim what belongs to him?” Harry asked, smirking slightly as he exchanged a glance with Coulson. Despite the lighthearted question, his eyes betrayed the seriousness of the situation.
The two rushed towards the control room, the alarms blaring throughout the facility as floodlights bathed the entire site in harsh, glaring light. As they reached the lip of the crater, the light rain had become a downpour. Harry murmured an incantation under his breath, a subtle protective charm against the elements, though he knew his mind would be focused elsewhere soon enough.
Harry’s eyes tracked every movement, every shift in the shadows as they watched the unknown assailant systematically dismantling the SHIELD ground forces with nothing but his bare hands. There was a power in his movements, a raw, untamed force that sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He could feel the magic in the air, something ancient and potent that tugged at his senses, urging him to step in.
But he held back.
Coulson’s voice cut through the downpour, sharp and authoritative. “I want eyes up high. With a gun. Now!”
Harry watched as Clint equipped himself with a bow and arrow and swiftly moved to a crane bucket, which lifted him high above the battlefield. Harry felt the itch in his fingers, the instinct to intervene, to join the fray. But he resisted. There was something about this that felt… inevitable. Something this man needed to face on his own.
He and Coulson continued to observe as the man tore through the SHIELD agents, his raw strength and determination unmistakable. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest, every fibre of his being ready to leap into action. But he reminded himself of Yao’s words—of the importance of letting things play out as they were meant to.
Coulson, too, was watching closely, his usual calm demeanour showing signs of tension as the man relentlessly advanced. The agent wasn’t just thinking about the mission; Harry could sense Coulson’s concern for the safety of his men. But Coulson’s trust in Harry’s judgment, and perhaps in what they assumed to be Thor’s destiny, kept him from giving the order to escalate.
As Thor reached the last junction box, just before the entrance to the cube structure where Mjolnir lay, he was suddenly met with a powerful blow across his jaw. Harry watched, his breath catching as Thor staggered, dazed, and looked up to see a massive SHIELD agent standing in his way. Even now, Harry’s urge to intervene surged, but he knew this was part of the god’s trial. He couldn’t interfere.
"You're big. Fought bigger," Thor grunted, his voice carrying a mixture of respect and resolve.
The two titans clashed, their struggle sending them crashing through walls and into the mud. Harry’s eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming at him to step in, to help. But he knew that this was not his fight. Thor needed to reach his hammer on his own terms.
As Thor finally stood before Mjolnir, Harry’s breath hitched. The hammer seemed to pulse with energy, glowing with a power that Harry could almost taste in the air. He watched intently as Thor reached out, his hand wrapping around the hilt, a triumphant smile forming on his face.
But the hammer didn’t move.
Harry felt a pang of sympathy as Thor tried again, straining with all his might, his screams of frustration echoing through the storm. But still, Mjolnir wouldn’t budge. The runes that briefly glowed on its surface seemed to mock him before fading away.
Thor fell to his knees, rain mixing with the blood and mud on his face. He was broken, lost. Harry’s heart ached for the man, understanding all too well the feeling of being deemed unworthy, of failing when everything was on the line.
Coulson, too, looked on with disappointment. “Barton… hold your fire,” he instructed over the radio, his voice quieter now, tinged with an understanding of the gravity of what had just happened.
As SHIELD agents moved in, surrounding Thor, Harry watched with a mix of sadness and respect. Thor had been tested and found wanting, and now he would face the consequences. But this was not the end of his story—Harry could feel it in the air, in the lingering magic that still crackled around Mjolnir.
“Ground units, move in. The show’s over,” Coulson’s voice brought Harry back to the present.
But as the agents closed in on Thor, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger, something that would soon draw them all into a new and dangerous chapter.
Thor knelt in the mud, rain pouring down as the weight of his failure settled on his shoulders. The SHIELD agents moved in cautiously, weapons drawn but unnecessary—Thor didn’t resist. He was a man defeated, no longer the unstoppable force that had torn through their ranks. Coulson gave a subtle nod, signalling his men to secure the now-subdued god.
As Thor was led away in handcuffs, Harry and Coulson exchanged a brief glance. There was a mutual understanding—whatever had just transpired was significant, and it wasn’t over yet. As Coulson led Thor to the holding cell to question him, Harry along with Clint went to the control room to watch the interrogation.
In the control room, the atmosphere was a mix of tension and curiosity. Harry stood with Clint Barton, both watching the interrogation unfold on the CCTV monitor. Phil Coulson, calm and composed, sat across from Thor, who seemed utterly lost, his spirit visibly crushed.
“So, that’s the Norse god of thunder?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically. Despite having seen Thor single-handedly take down their best agents, there was still a part of Clint that found it hard to believe.
“That is who we are assuming it to be,” Harry replied, his tone even, but his eyes never left the screen. There was something about Thor’s demeanour that tugged at his thoughts—a god stripped of his power, facing a reality he wasn’t prepared for.
But then, Harry felt it. A subtle ripple in the magical wards he had set up around the base. His senses sharpened, and he glanced at Clint. “The wards have been breached.”
Clint immediately stiffened, his casual demeanour giving way to a more alert stance. “Are you sure?” he asked, already scanning the various monitors displaying security footage from around the facility.
Harry nodded, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the arcane energies in the air. “There’s someone here who shouldn’t be.”
Clint’s eyes darted back to the footage of Thor, now looking even more intrigued. “You think someone’s here to break out our Norse god?”
Harry’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though his expression remained serious. “That’s a likely possibility. Whoever it is, they’re skilled enough to slip past the guards without being noticed. I’m going to check the holding cell. You keep an eye on the surveillance cameras.”
Clint nodded, his attention already divided between the different monitors. “Be careful,” he added, his tone half-serious, half-joking.
Harry didn’t respond verbally, but the glance he shot Clint conveyed both his gratitude and his confidence. He turned and left the control room, his mind already racing through possibilities. If someone was here to free Thor, it could only mean one thing—there was more at stake than just a hammer and a fallen god. And whoever this intruder was, they were likely as formidable as Thor himself.
Harry moved swiftly through the SHIELD facility. His mind raced as he honed in on the holding cell, where Thor was being kept. The breach in the wards had been subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone without magical sensitivity, but Harry had felt it, a ripple that signalled something was very wrong.
He reached the cell and slowed his pace, his senses on high alert. The room was shrouded in shadows, the only light coming from the dim overheads. Thor sat in the centre, still bound, his posture one of defeat. But there was something off—Thor's eyes were focused, his lips moving as if he were speaking to someone.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest. There was no one else in the room. At least, not anyone visible.
He raised his hand, glowing faintly in the darkness. With a whisper, he cast the Revelio charm, the spell sweeping through the room like a wave. For a moment, nothing happened. But then, a foot away from Thor, the air shimmered, bending and twisting as if reality itself were warping. Slowly, the figure of a man began to materialize.
He stood tall and slender, draped in a finely tailored grey suit that seemed almost too perfect for someone of his mischievous nature. The suit was modern yet timeless, with sharp lines and an otherworldly elegance. His raven-black hair was slicked back, framing a face that was both handsome and unsettling—pale skin, high cheekbones, and eyes that gleamed with a mixture of intelligence and malice. A thin, knowing smile played on his lips as if he were privy to secrets no one else could comprehend.
Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him. This was no ordinary intruder; this was a being of immense power and cunning.
“What are you doing here?” Coulson’s voice broke through the tense silence, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his usually composed tone. He had stepped into the cell behind Harry, unaware of the full extent of what they were dealing with.
Harry quickly raised a hand, signalling for Coulson to remain silent. This was not the time for confrontation, not yet. He needed to understand what this man was up to before making a move.
Coulson hesitated but then nodded, his trust in Harry overriding his instinct to take control of the situation. As Coulson entered the holding cell to continue his interrogation of Thor, the unknown man simply turned and began to walk away, his movements fluid and unhurried, as if he were strolling through a park rather than a heavily fortified base. It was as if he believed he was invisible to all—except Harry.
Harry followed, his steps careful and deliberate. The tension in the air was palpable, the very atmosphere charged with the potential for disaster. The man moved with an air of absolute confidence, not bothering to look back, fully confident that nobody could see him. He was heading towards the hammer, Mjolnir, and Harry’s mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen or what this person’s intentions were.
Agents and scientists scurry around the crater, their focus entirely on repairing the damaged area around Mjolnir. Unseen and unnoticed, the man glided through the chaos, his presence like a ghost amid the bustling scene.
The man approached the hammer cautiously as if the hammer might spring to life at any moment. His long fingers hover over the handle before gripping it firmly. For a brief second, his eyes flicker with hope—could he, too, wield the power of Mjolnir? But as he tries to lift it, the hammer remains rooted to the ground. His expression sours, a sneer curling his lips as he releases the handle. He steps back, seething with quiet frustration.
When he turned away from the hammer, he froze, momentarily caught off guard. Standing a few paces away, Harry was watching him intently. Unlike the oblivious humans around them, Harry saw him with perfect clarity.
"And who might you be?" Harry asked, his voice steady but edged with suspicion. "The one who banished the person or just a messenger?"
The man’s surprise was fleeting, quickly replaced by his usual air of superiority. He tilted his head slightly, studying Harry as though he were a peculiar insect. "How is it that you can see me?" His tone was one of idle curiosity as if he was mildly interested in Harry’s answer but not enough to truly care.
"Your notice-me-not charm might be enough for these mortals," Harry replied, his eyes narrowing, "but it’s too simple to fool me. So, I'll ask again—why are you here?"
Loki’s lips twitch into a faint smile, one that doesn’t reach his cold, calculating eyes. He steped closer to Harry, his presence almost suffocating. "A Seiðmaður," he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with a mix of intrigue and disdain. "I thought your kind had long since wiped themselves out, victims of their own hubris."
Harry doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Loki, refusing to be intimidated by the god’s looming presence.
Loki’s smile widened, his arrogance unfurling like a dark cloud. "Come then," he said, his voice laced with mocking invitation. "Kneel before me, as your ancestors did before the All father. I am Loki, son of Odin, and rightful king of Asgard. It would be wise for you to acknowledge me for your better."
Harry's laughter echoed through the area, sharp and unrestrained, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Wow, you really are delusional if you think I'm going to grovel at your feet and worship you," he said, his tone dripping with amusement. "I don’t know who you are or what you want but let me tell you something—neither you nor that guy you just met is worthy enough to lift that hammer. Mjolnir, right? That’s what it’s called, isn’t it?"
Loki’s eyes narrowed, the smirk on his lips faltering ever so slightly as Harry continued. "I don’t know what your grand purpose is, but if you’re here to cause harm, then I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you. Consider that a friendly warning."
Loki’s smirk returned, colder and more condescending than before. "I see this world has forgotten what it means to respect the gods," he sneered. "But what more can we expect from a species whose lifespan is barely a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things?"
Loki raised his arms slowly, and an eerie green and gold light began to swirl around him, rising from the ground in tendrils like serpents. The air crackled with arcane energy, making the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end. Loki’s voice echoed with a cold, disdainful finality as the light enveloped him. "Mock me if you will, Seiðmaður, but remember this—I am Loki, the rightful king of Asgard. Your insignificance in the face of my power will soon be made clear."
With a final, arrogant glance, Loki vanished into the shimmering light, leaving Harry standing alone by the hammer. The air around him hummed with residual magic, but Harry’s expression remained unshaken. He stared at the spot where Loki had disappeared, a determined glint in his eyes.
"Rightful king of Asgard," Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."
But as he turned away from the hammer, his mind raced with thoughts of what Loki might do next. The god’s arrogance was as dangerous as his power, and Harry knew that this encounter was far from the end. There was a storm coming, and he had to be ready.
As Harry left the crater site, his mind was still racing from the encounter with Loki. The arrogance of that so-called god gnawed at him, but he pushed the thoughts aside as he approached the holding cell. There was something else he needed to handle now—Thor, or rather, the man who had just failed to reclaim Mjolnir.
As Harry entered the holding cell, he was surprised to find a commotion already unfolding. A man had arrived to bail Thor out, and Harry quickly made his way over to Coulson for an explanation.
“That’s Dr. Erik Selvig,” Coulson began, his tone reflecting a mix of respect and curiosity. “He’s not just any scientist—he’s a renowned astrophysicist and one of the leading minds in the field of Theoretical Astrophysics at Culver University. Selvig’s written some of the most influential papers on thermonuclear astrophysics, and his work has paved the way for much of our understanding of cosmic phenomena.”
Coulson paused, glancing at the security feed where Selvig was already engaged in a conversation with Thor, who appeared just as bewildered as the SHIELD agents observing him.
“Donny, Donny, Donny! There you are!” Selvig called out, his voice brimming with relief.
Thor looked up, his expression one of confusion and surprise. Before he could react, Selvig pulled him to his feet, wrapping him in a warm, almost desperate hug.
“It’s going to be all right, my friend. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Selvig assured him, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Harry stood back observing the scene unfold with confusion. It was clear that Selvig was trying to get Thor out of SHIELD’s custody, but the sincerity of his actions made it difficult to intervene. Thor, still bewildered, allowed himself to be led away.
As they made their way past the security room, Thor’s eyes caught something. His gaze lingered on a pile of stuff for a moment before his hand darted out, snatching a journal and slipping it into his pocket.
Harry noticed the subtle movement but chose not to react. He’d seen enough to know that Thor wasn’t the real threat—at least not now.
Meanwhile, Coulson was at his workstation, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the computer screen. Donald Blake’s DMV record was displayed, but a glaring security warning flashed over the image: "SECURITY ALERT: FALSIFIED DATA." He’d been suspicious from the start, but this confirmed it.
Coulson’s gaze shifted to where Selvig and Thor were already heading out. He didn’t seem angry, just resigned, as if he knew there was little point in stopping them now.
Harry stayed back as Coulson watched Selvig help Thor towards the waiting SUV.
“Just keep him away from the bars,” Coulson called out, his tone carrying a hint of dry humour.
Selvig turned back, giving a quick nod. “I will!” he promised, ushering Thor into the vehicle.
As the SUV drove away, Harry and Coulson exchanged a look. There was an unspoken understanding between them—Thor’s story was far from over, and whatever Loki’s plans were, they would have to be dealt with soon.
Coulson turned to Harry, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So, how do you want to deal with him? We can’t just let him walk away without keeping an eye on him.”
“Why is this Dr. Selvig bailing out Thor? Are they related somehow?” Harry asked.
“Selvig’s here with Dr. Jane Foster, another brilliant scientist, and their intern, Darcy Lewis. They’re investigating the bizarre weather events in this area, which Dr Foster suspects are linked to an Einstein-Rosen Bridge—a wormhole if you will. It’s cutting-edge stuff, the kind that blurs the lines between science fiction and reality. We confiscated all their stuff recently to ensure that the information regarding the hammer and Thor remains confidential.”
“But why would someone like Selvig go to such lengths for a man he barely knows?” Harry wondered
Coulson leaned in closer to the monitor, watching as Selvig and Thor made their way out of the compound. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Maybe he sees something in Thor that we don’t, or maybe there’s more to this than we realize. Either way, it looks like Selvig’s convinced himself—or been convinced—that Thor is worth protecting. They must know something to go to such lengths. Whatever Selvig’s up to, it’s clear he believes Thor is key to something big. And I have a feeling we’re just scratching the surface of what’s really going on here.”
Harry leaned against the doorframe; his eyes thoughtful as he considered the options. “You already tried the bad cop routine,” he said with a smirk. “Now, it’s my turn to play good cop. Let me approach them as a civilian, someone who’s just as curious about all this as they are. Thor’s broken right now, and from what Yao hinted at, he’s going through some kind of trial to regain his power. If I can get them to open to me, we might learn more about what’s really going on.”
Coulson raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical but willing to trust Harry’s instincts. “And you think they’ll just spill their secrets to some random guy off the street?”
“Not just any random guy,” Harry replied, a grin spreading across his face. “A fellow curious mind. Someone who seems harmless, and approachable. Let them think they’ve found an ally. You keep the focus on the hammer—keep it under SHIELD’s watchful eye. I’ll dig into Thor and his friends.”
Coulson folded his arms, still not entirely convinced. “Alright, but I’m assigning a few agents to trail you, just in case things go sideways. I don’t want you getting into a situation you can’t get out of.”
Harry chuckled, the sound light but with an underlying confidence. “Phil, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s how to get out of tight spots. But sure, I’ll play along with your backup plan. Just make sure they keep their distance—I don’t want to spook anyone.”
Coulson gave a reluctant nod. “Just... be careful, alright? This is bigger than anything we’ve dealt with before. Gods, magic hammers—it’s a whole new ballgame. You might be magical, but I guess there are limits to what you can do too.”
Harry gave him a reassuring smile, though there was a seriousness in his eyes. “I know. But if we’re going to figure out what’s really going on, we must take some risks. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
With that, Harry turned and walked out, leaving Coulson to stare after him, a mixture of worry and trust in his gaze. Coulson shook his head, muttering to himself, “Just don’t do anything too reckless, Potter.”
