Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 109

Chapter 109: Why Not Report It?

Fury carefully secured the pager in the inner pocket of his jacket. “I hope so, too.”

The final farewell was brief, conducted in the sterile silence of the docking bay. The Skrulls, their true forms revealed, lined up in two solemn rows. They offered Fury a salute—not one born of awe or fear, but of deep gratitude. Gratitude that he hadn’t handed them over to the Kree, gratitude for his help in repairing their vessel, and gratitude for treating them as people worthy of dignity, not as monsters or trophies to be dissected.

“May you find a new home,” Fury said, the words carrying a rare, unvarnished sincerity.

“May Earth always know peace,” Talos replied, his voice heavy with the weight of their journey.

Carol and Fury locked eyes for a long moment before she extended a hand. “Take care, Fury.”

“Take care, Danvers,” Fury said, his grip firm. “Show the universe what an Earthling is made of.”

A smile touched Carol’s lips, a brilliant flash that held both the sharp edge of a warrior and the unwavering radiance of an idealist. “I will.”

She turned without another word and boarded the Skrull ship. The hatch hissed shut, sealing her away.

Fury returned to his own small shuttle, the cockpit spartan and familiar. He fired up the engines, the low hum a stark contrast to the silence that had preceded it. With a soft jolt, the docking clamps disengaged.

The two ships drifted apart in the vastness of low Earth orbit, their paths diverging. One pointed toward the endless black of deep space, the other toward the comforting blue-and-white marble of home.

Through the viewport, Fury watched as the Skrull vessel’s jump engine flared to life. Space warped around it, reality bending into a swirling halo of blue light. The ship elongated, faded, and then vanished, leaving only the cold, indifferent stars behind.

He sat alone in the cockpit, the silence pressing in, for a long, long time.

The voyage back to Earth was peaceful. Fury’s shuttle sliced through the atmosphere, a controlled descent that ended at a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base nestled in the Nevada desert. The moment he stepped onto the tarmac, a team of agents in severe black suits materialized to escort him for his debriefing.

In a sterile briefing room three levels underground, three men waited. At the head of the table sat S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Alexander Pierce. Beside him was one of the deputy directors, and across from them, a middle-aged man whose uniform epaulettes marked him as high-ranking military, though Fury didn’t recognize him.

“Agent Fury,” Pierce began, his smile warm but perfectly practiced. “Welcome back. We received your preliminary report… It’s quite astonishing. Alien refugees, the Kree Empire, and an Earth woman with superpowers. Can you give us the details?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Fury delivered a careful account of the mission. He started with the initial tracking of the Skrulls, detailed the discovery of Carol Danvers, recounted the Kree ambush, and described how Carol awakened her powers to repel the enemy. He concluded with the Skrulls repairing their ship and departing.

His narrative was fluid, detailed, and impeccably logical.

Except for one glaring omission.

He completely erased Mavuika from the record. There was no mention of Asgard, no reference to a sun goddess descending from the heavens. In Fury’s carefully constructed version of events, the formidable Kree fleet had been single-handedly driven back by Carol Danvers.

This was not a spontaneous decision. Fury had weighed the consequences during the entire flight back. He had concluded that Mavuika’s existence, and the Asgardian power she represented, was a variable that Earth could neither comprehend nor handle.

Reporting this intelligence would trigger one of two reactions: utter disbelief or a catastrophic overreaction.

Disbelief would mean ignoring a very real, cosmic-level power. Overreaction, however, was far more dangerous. It would inspire some ambitious fool to try and “contact,” “study,” or even “control” a literal deity. The results of such hubris would be absolutely disastrous.

So, Fury chose to conceal it. At least for now.

“…,” Fury finished, standing ramrod straight, “the Skrull refugees have left the solar system and will not be returning in the short term. Ms. Carol Danvers chose to accompany them, partly to ensure their safety and partly to intercept potential threats in deep space before they can reach Earth.”

Pierce and the other two men exchanged loaded glances.

“This Ms. Danvers,” the military officer spoke up, his eyes gleaming with an undisguised, strategic interest. “How strong do you assess her abilities to be?”

“Very strong,” Fury answered, his tone deliberately cautious. “She can single-handedly repel a team of Kree elite warriors, survive unaided in the vacuum of space, and perform precision welding with her bare hands. As for her upper limit… I can’t say. She admitted herself that she’s still learning to control her power.”

“If she could be used by us…” the official murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

The words sent a chill through Fury, but his expression remained a mask of stone. “General, Ms. Danvers has an exceptionally strong will. A significant reason she chose to leave Earth was her refusal to be ‘used’ by any organization. I believe our best strategy is to maintain a friendly relationship and offer assistance should she ever require it. Any attempt to control her will fail.”

Pierce nodded, a placating gesture. “Agent Fury is right. These… special individuals must be handled with care. Force will only prove counterproductive.”

He turned his gaze back to Fury, and his smile seemed to gain a sliver of genuine warmth. “Regardless, you have completed an unmatched mission and successfully managed a potential alien crisis. S.H.I.E.L.D. is proud of you, Agent Fury. This performance will be noted in your file.”

It was the unmistakable language of an impending promotion. Fury understood, but merely gave a curt nod. “Thank you, Director. I was just doing my job.”

After the debriefing concluded, Pierce asked Fury to stay behind.

“One more thing,” Pierce said, his tone shifting from professional to serious. “Regarding that Skrull prisoner… the one you took custody of from Howard’s old files. Where is he now?”

Fury felt a knot tighten in his gut, but his face remained impassive. “He left with the other Skrulls, Director.”

“Why wasn’t this in any of your reports?” Pierce asked. It wasn’t an interrogation, but his curiosity felt sharp, probing.

“The Skrulls’ shapeshifting ability is flawless. The existence of that prisoner had to be kept under the tightest possible seal,” Fury explained smoothly. “At the time, we had to operate under the assumption that the agency itself could have been infiltrated. Until we could guarantee security, the fewer people who knew, the better.”

Pierce was silent for several seconds, his eyes unreadable. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Your concerns are justified. Very well. You will continue to be responsible for that file. Maintain the highest level of confidentiality. Report any new developments directly to me.”

“Yes, Director.”

Leaving the briefing room, Fury bypassed his office and headed straight for the base’s archives. This was no ordinary library; it was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s vault of classified history, a place of secrets and shadows.

Using his highest-level clearance, he accessed all files related to ‘Norse Mythology,”Asgard,’ and any’Records of Alien Civilizations.’

He then returned to his office, locked the door, and drew the blinds, plunging the room into shadow. Now, finally, he was alone.

Fury powered on his personal computer—a completely air-gapped, encrypted terminal with no connection to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s main servers. He began to organize the data he had pulled from the archives. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s records on Norse mythology were surprisingly limited.

Most of it had been seized from the Nazis during World War II. Their obsession with the occult had led them to collect a vast amount of esoteric literature. The rest consisted of ancient manuscripts and inscriptions that Howard Stark had gathered from across the globe in the years following the war.

Fury skimmed through the digitized files, his one good eye flying across the screen as he took notes:

Asgard, home of the Aesir gods. Described as a massive, golden city floating in the cosmos, connected to other worlds by a rainbow bridge called the Bifrost.

Odin, the All-Father, King of the Gods.

Mavuika, the Sun Goddess.

Hela, Thor, Loki… He saw the names of the major figures from the myths, along with scattered, cryptic descriptions of the ‘Nine Realms.’