So that’s what caught SHIELD’s attention.
The realization eased the knot in Evenson’s stomach.
Speculative investing wasn’t unusual. Plenty of people gambled on the stock market every day. The only difference was that he happened to possess abilities that made people look twice. Coulson wasn’t here because SHIELD had proof. He was here because the timing looked suspicious, and SHIELD’s job was to investigate suspicious coincidences.
Still, Evenson knew better than to relax completely.
A veteran field agent wasn’t someone to underestimate. One careless sentence, one flicker of hesitation, one glance in the wrong direction could become another piece of evidence. SHIELD trained its agents to notice details most people never realized they were revealing.
Evenson straightened behind the counter, his expression turning serious.
"Let’s be completely honest with each other, Agent Coulson."
He folded his arms.
"You, or perhaps SHIELD as a whole, suspects I possess some kind of ability to see the future. Or maybe you think I somehow orchestrated, or at least participated in, Tony Stark’s disappearance."
Coulson didn’t dodge the question.
"Yes."
He met Evenson’s eyes.
"Those possibilities have been considered."
"Good."
Evenson suddenly pointed toward the corner of the shop.
"Then tell me what you see over there."
Coulson turned his head.
A battered trash can sat beside the shelves.
It was overflowing with instant noodle cups.
Evenson spread his hands.
"That’s today’s breakfast."
He pointed again.
"And yesterday’s lunch."
"Along with yesterday’s dinner."
Then he raised his voice toward the hulking Doomguard standing motionless against the wall.
"Doomin! You forgot to take out the trash again!"
The demon looked over with complete indifference.
Evenson sighed dramatically before turning back to Coulson.
"Now answer me honestly."
"If I really could predict the future..."
"...would I still be living on instant noodles?"
He gestured toward the mountain of empty containers.
"Eating enough preservatives to qualify as a hazardous waste site?"
"I made, what? Ten thousand dollars? Maybe a little more?"
"If I truly had that kind of power, why wouldn’t I just buy a lottery ticket?"
That was the simple truth.
His stock play had earned him a respectable profit, but nowhere near life-changing money.
An American lottery jackpot, on the other hand, could easily reach eight or nine figures.
Before Coulson could answer, Evenson pointed toward another corner.
"And what about that?"
Coulson looked again.
"A globe."
He paused.
"A rather cheap one."
"I wasn’t asking for a product review."
Evenson’s eye twitched.
"Does it look like I spend every day hugging that thing while plotting world domination?"
"You know..."
He made a theatrical gesture toward the globe.
"Like the dictator in Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator."
Coulson rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I understand the point."
"I’ll admit our suspicion was... speculative."
"Speculative?"
Evenson’s expression hardened.
"No."
"Not speculative."
"Imagine thirty years ago."
"A Porsche convertible tears down the highway."
"If the driver is white, no one gives it a second glance."
"If the driver is Black, there’s a decent chance he’s getting pulled over before he reaches the next intersection."
"Same car."
"Different assumptions."
"That’s what this feels like."
Coulson immediately shook his head.
"That’s not what this is."
"We’re not prejudging you because of who you are."
"You possess abilities ordinary people can’t explain."
"Then an extraordinary coincidence occurs."
"My job is to investigate extraordinary coincidences."
"I hope you can understand that."
"I do understand."
Evenson looked away.
"Just like those officers understood why they assumed the expensive car had to be stolen."
Coulson let out a tired sigh.
"All right."
"I’m sorry."
"Truly."
"There isn’t any prejudice here."
"We simply..."
"Fear it."
Evenson finished the sentence for him.
Coulson frowned.
Evenson continued quietly.
"People have always feared what they couldn’t understand."
"History is full of examples."
"Countless innocent people were accused of witchcraft simply because they were different."
"Giordano Bruno died at the stake because his ideas terrified the people judging him."
"It’s the same instinct."
Coulson was silent for a long moment before answering.
"No."
He spoke carefully.
"Not fear."
"Responsibility."
"In SHIELD’s eyes, there isn’t much difference between a Warlock like you and a mutant."
"You both possess powers beyond ordinary human understanding."
"Powers capable of shattering the worldview of anyone who witnesses them."
He leaned forward.
"But those powers aren’t the foundation of civilization."
"They can’t be mass-produced."
"They can’t be taught to humanity as a whole."
"Most people will never possess them."
"That’s why civilization advanced through science."
"Not magic."
"Not mutations."
"Our responsibility is to keep truths humanity isn’t ready for from causing unnecessary chaos."
He held Evenson’s gaze.
"When we investigate people like you..."
"It’s because of that responsibility."
"Not because we’re afraid."
"Do you understand, Mr. Richter?"
Evenson didn’t answer immediately.
Because...
Coulson wasn’t entirely wrong.
Humanity hadn’t reached the modern age because a handful of mutants existed.
Science had fed billions.
Science had transformed agriculture until entire nations no longer starved after a single failed harvest.
Science had defeated diseases like smallpox, cholera, and the Black Death.
Science had dramatically increased human life expectancy.
Tony Stark couldn’t hand everyone an Iron Man suit.
The Hulk couldn’t make humanity bulletproof.
Even Thor, a literal god, couldn’t magically double the world’s food supply simply by swinging Mjolnir.
If every mutant disappeared tomorrow...
Human civilization would continue.
If modern science disappeared...
Civilization itself would collapse.
Compared to that, the contribution of superhumans to everyday human progress was astonishingly small.
Yes, they occasionally saved the world.
But ordinary scientists had quietly prevented humanity from destroying itself countless times without anyone calling them heroes.
Evenson let out a long breath.
"Hmph."
"You’ve almost convinced me I’m the one who should be apologizing."
He managed a faint smile.
"Fine."
"I shouldn’t have mocked you."
"But being treated like a suspect for no reason..."
"It doesn’t feel great."
Coulson nodded.
"Then let me apologize again."
"And thank you for understanding."
He rose from his chair.
"That concludes my assignment."
"Thank you for your cooperation."
He had barely taken a step toward the door when Evenson spoke again.
"Agent Coulson."
Coulson froze.
The last time Evenson had stopped him like this, the conversation had ended with Red Skull, Hydra, and a nightmare that had consumed SHIELD’s attention for days.
His entire body instinctively tensed.
What now?
Please don’t tell me another dead Nazi has come back to life.
Instead, Evenson smiled.
"If SHIELD still hasn’t found Tony Stark..."
"...and you’re still looking..."
"I might be able to help."
Coulson blinked.
Before he could respond, Evenson turned toward the entrance and shouted,
"Habbs!"
"We’ve got work to do."
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