Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"I just received a report?"

Nick Fury frowned as the secure video feed connected.

Then his expression darkened.

"...You handed that dog over to someone else?"

The memory of Habs still lingered like a bad dream.

A talking dog was disturbing enough.

A talking dog that could out-argue most people was another matter entirely.

If word ever got out, the public would lose its collective mind. Conspiracy theories would explode overnight. Someone would claim canines had evolved superior intelligence and were preparing to inherit the Earth. Grocery stores would be stripped of bottled water by panicked shoppers, and Hollywood would probably greenlight a blockbuster called Planet of the Dogs before the week was over.

Because of that, Fury had repeatedly ordered Coulson to keep a close eye on the husky.

Now Coulson was telling him he’d entrusted it to someone else.

"Director, everything is under control," Coulson replied calmly under Fury’s skeptical stare. "I can assure you Habs won’t cause any trouble."

"You can assure me?"

Fury snorted.

"Please. That dog isn’t even intimidated by me. What makes you think it’ll listen to you?"

By every reasonable measure, Nick Fury was a far more intimidating figure than Phil Coulson.

If Fury couldn’t keep the dog in line...

How was Coulson supposed to?

Coulson smiled with quiet confidence.

"Fifty kilograms of premium beef."

He paused.

"And twenty bags of luxury dog food."

"After that, Habs became remarkably cooperative."

Fury blinked several times.

Thinking back, the dog had been absurdly food-motivated.

Combined with his trust in Coulson’s judgment, he reluctantly accepted the explanation. Coulson wasn’t the type to make careless decisions. If he’d delegated responsibility for Habs, he must have had a reason.

"So the dog really found Stark?"

"It appears so."

Coulson nodded.

"According to the rescue team’s report, Habs stayed perfectly quiet throughout the flight. Then, without warning, he started barking insistently in one direction."

"The helicopter changed course."

"Roughly twenty kilometers later..."

"They found Tony Stark."

"Twenty kilometers?"

Fury’s remaining eye widened.

An ordinary dog’s effective scent range was only a tiny fraction of that.

Coulson wasn’t finished.

"Taking the helicopter’s altitude, speed, wind direction, and wind speed into account, Habs’ actual detection range was probably closer to thirty kilometers."

Fury fell silent.

For a fleeting moment, one ridiculous comparison surfaced in his mind.

The Hulk... if he were a dog.

Then he remembered Habs wasn’t technically a dog at all, but a magical construct.

That somehow made the situation even stranger.

He decided not to dwell on it.

"I assigned you two priorities," Fury said, steering the conversation back on track. "Assist the military in locating Tony Stark and keep an eye on that unusual dog."

"You’ve delegated both."

"What happened that’s so important?"

"Yesterday," Coulson answered, "a twenty-man U.S. Army search team came under attack."

"The attackers were five mutates."

"Mutates?"

Fury repeated the word.

"What were the casualties?"

"Everyone except Sergeant Kobe’s five-man fire team."

"And the mutates?"

"Two were killed during the initial engagement."

"The remaining three pursued the survivors until A-10 Thunderbolt IIs eliminated them with close air support."

Coulson brought up several photographs on the screen.

"They displayed no supernatural abilities."

"No energy projection."

"No telepathy."

"No elemental powers."

"Their mutations were entirely physical."

"Extreme strength."

"Extreme speed."

"Exceptional durability."

"Small arms were largely ineffective."

"But anti-armor weapons destroyed them as easily as ordinary humans."

Fury folded his hands.

"They don’t sound especially dangerous."

Since Captain America’s disappearance, the most famous mutate in recent years had been the Hulk.

Compared to him, these creatures seemed almost ordinary.

Many mutates possessed bizarre powers capable of controlling minds, teleporting, manipulating fire, ice, or electricity.

By comparison, enhanced muscles and thick skin felt almost simplistic.

"They aren’t the strongest mutates I’ve encountered," Coulson agreed.

"I know individuals who could have wiped out that twenty-man search team alone without suffering a scratch."

He drew a slow breath.

"But this case..."

"...is unlike anything I’ve ever seen."

Fury’s expression hardened.

He trusted Coulson’s judgment.

As a Level Seven S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Coulson had investigated countless enhanced individuals over the years. If he considered this unprecedented, it deserved serious attention.

"Explain."

Coulson enlarged several photographs.

"Based on eyewitness testimony..."

"The Predator drone footage..."

"The intact corpses recovered from the first battlefield..."

"And preliminary examinations of the remains recovered from the second..."

He hesitated briefly before continuing.

"Every mutate possessed virtually identical physical traits."

"Their abilities were identical."

"Their biological structures were nearly indistinguishable."

Silence settled over the room.

Finally, Fury spoke.

"Do you understand what you’re implying, Agent Coulson?"

"I do, Director."

Fury leaned back.

Mutates existed throughout the world, but they represented only a tiny fraction of humanity.

More importantly...

No two were exactly alike.

Their powers were as individual as fingerprints.

Different genes.

Different mutations.

Different abilities.

That was how nature worked.

Unless...

The mutations weren’t natural.

Clones shared identical genetic structures.

Artificial life could produce identical results.

Which meant...

If these mutates had been engineered instead of born...

Then identical abilities suddenly became possible.

Another memory surfaced.

The Super Soldier Program.

Had Dr. Abraham Erskine survived and perfected his research, every successful recipient would have possessed physical abilities comparable to Captain America’s.

Not identical people.

But identical enhancements.

The similarities were impossible to ignore.

No exotic powers.

Only overwhelming physical augmentation.

Could someone have recreated the Super Soldier Program...

Or perhaps built something even worse?

After a long silence, Fury gave his orders.

"Agent Coulson."

"This investigation is classified."

"Do not discuss it outside authorized channels."

"Your mission remains unchanged. Return with Tony Stark as planned."

He looked directly into the camera.

"But I want everything."

"The bodies."

"The tissue samples."

"The photographs."

"The drone footage."

"Every scrap of evidence."

He paused one last time.

"And bring back every surviving soldier who engaged those mutates."

"Understood, Director."

The transmission ended.

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