Chapter 902: Not-So-Secret Invasion (Part 2)

At the entrance of a secret base in Pennsylvania, Natasha waved vigorously at a massive transport vehicle: "Stop over there! Can't you see the sign? There's no room here—unload over there…"

"And you—don't park here blocking the way. What? Your cargo is heavy? Look around, who doesn't have heavy cargo? Wait, let me check your cargo bay. My god, how much equipment is this…?"

Natasha wrinkled her nose, waved her hand in front of her face to disperse the dust, leaned into the cargo hold, and stared at the utterly unidentifiable machines. "These look expensive. Fine, unload here then. Lona! Lona! Come over—need help here…"

Polaris, on the other side of the hill, flew over impatiently. "What's wrong? I'm unloading over there. Oh my god, how much more equipment is this? What the hell have you all been looting?"

"Don't ask questions. Use your power—get these machines inside, right next to the last shipment. Hurry, the transport plane's coming soon. Once unloaded, get the trucks out or they'll block everything…"

Polaris sighed, extended her hand, and the connecting devices on both sides of the transport truck clicked open.

The entire cargo bay lifted into the air, rotated 180 degrees mid-flight, and one by one, the machines—like they had grown legs—flew out of the truck's hold and into the massive warehouse ahead.

The warehouse entrance, carved between the mountains, was enormous—large enough for an aerospace carrier to pass freely—like a gaping abyss. Even Polaris, hovering midair, looked tiny beside it.

In a flash of light, a shimmering figure appeared beside Natasha. She brushed her hair back. "Both trucks at the opposite entrance are unloaded. When's the transport plane arriving?"

Natasha checked her watch. "Baron was on a mission in New Mexico—he hasn't returned yet. He's supposed to be escorting the supplies from there. Oh, wait—he's calling…"

"Hello? Baron? What's up? You're almost here? Good, I know—landing's clear anytime…"

Just then, Polaris's voice erupted from inside the warehouse: "Don't let the transport plane land here—it's already full!"

Polaris flew out of the warehouse. "Since last night, we've been cramming things in—each machine bigger than the last."

"There's a bridge-builder in the aerospace carrier dock, two mining machines on the main lift elevator, two single-bucket excavators stuffed on the repair platform, and every corner crammed with small gear. Where the hell are we supposed to put the transport plane's cargo?"

Natasha rubbed her forehead, pushed her hair back. "But those guys hid dozens of bases in Ohio and New Mexico—those were all big machines too, all rocket-related…"

"This warehouse is the biggest one Nick has. The southern bases aren't even half this size… Forget it, Baron—don't come to New York. I'll send you a new address—go to another warehouse…"

After hanging up, Natasha sighed. Polaris landed beside her. "I'm really curious—where did you get all these weird machines? And they keep coming…"

"I'm starting to think you robbed a small country… Wait, no…"

Natasha crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Which small country has five or six rockets? Those generals are filthy rich—each general has three secret bases on average. Now I know where all those military budgets went…"

"These came from the military???" Polaris stared, stunned. "You raided the military?? But isn't that too extreme? Won't they retaliate? Even if Nick Fury is…"

She suddenly froze. "Oh right—the Director of S. . . . . . is dead. If they want revenge, they've got no one to target."

Natasha raised her voice. "How many trucks left?" She turned to the shimmering figure beside her. The figure counted. "About ten more."

"Oh god! The warehouse's already full! Where are we supposed to put all this?" Polaris rubbed her temples. "And some machines must be laid flat—otherwise they won't function…"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "You didn't stack them?"

"How do you stack them?" Polaris asked, then explained: "When I worked in the Andromeda Galaxy, I learned—many machines can dig through mountains, but their frames aren't strong enough. Heavy weight on top crushes them…"

Natasha waved dismissively. "Let them break. They'd break anyway—I mean, no problem."

"But… those big machines are worth hundreds of millions—no, probably billions. If you store them like that, half'll be ruined…"

"So what? I say it's fine. They'll break eventually anyway. Keep shoving more in until it's full. Oh—and put the fragile and flammable machines near the edges."

"Fragile and explosive machines?" Polaris narrowed her eyes, thinking. "Those experimental weapons the generals made—looked like orbital weapons, maybe planet-killers…"

"Those ones. Put them right by the entrance—so they're visible the moment the door opens." Natasha snapped her fingers.

"But most of them are just shells—unfinished prototypes. They're nowhere near as efficient as the working mining machines…"

"Who cares? They're flammable and explosive. That's enough." Natasha waved the trucks forward. Polaris shrugged, didn't understand why, but got to work.

A while later, Natasha picked up the phone. "Really? Okay, got it. Don't worry—no problem."

From the receiver, Hill's voice came through: "The Director says he's been revived, but his memory's damaged—side effects of resurrection. He needs to re-inventory the warehouse. You'll need to provide records…"

"You've already prepared them? Good, I'll inform the Director. Thanks, goodbye."

After hanging up, Hill turned to Nick Fury. "Director, Natasha's team has updated the warehouse registry. It'll be delivered in a few days."

Nick nodded. "Good. The resurrection side effects are giving me a headache. I need to ensure S. . . . . .'s assets are stored safely…"

Hill frowned slightly but said nothing. Nick spoke up: "By the way—did Dr. Sheeler come to the base today?"

Hill glanced at the calendar. "Dr. Sheeler only comes on even-numbered days. He'll arrive tomorrow. What do you need him for?"

"Call him. Ask if he's free—I need to speak with him. It's urgent."

Hill nodded and left. A moment later, she returned. "Dr. Sheeler says he's on his way."

As she spoke, Sheeler walked in. Hill paused, then said: "Oh, he's here. I won't interrupt. Call if you need me."

Hill left. Sheeler sat across from Nick. "Director, what do you need?"

"Nothing much. You know resurrection damaged my memory. You're an excellent psychologist—how long will this last?"

Sheeler paused, then narrowed his eyes—as if focusing to read something. "Director, based on your condition, I don't think it's serious. But memory trauma isn't always immediate—it may require long-term observation to…"

"As long as it's not serious." Nick smiled, stood up. "Enough. Let's talk business. The Avengers suffered heavy losses. Iron Man, Captain America, Spider-Man—all core New York heroes—dead within days. But we had a backup plan."

"How's your top-secret project going? I mean—Project TAHITI. I recall it had preliminary results?"

Sheeler nodded. "Correct. GH325 can revive humans shortly after death. We can use this plan to…"

As he spoke, his phone rang. He answered, face darkening. "What? The lab was attacked? It's heavily guarded—how? All the serum stolen? Damn it! How did this happen?!"

Sheeler hung up, face grim. "Bad news, Director. While you were dead, those idiot generals and senators sent men to raid our lab—to revive superheroes ahead of schedule."

"They stole every batch of serum we produced. All usable doses are gone. And they certainly won't store them properly…"

Sheeler shook his head. "To produce new batches will take a long time…"

Nick paused, then spoke: "Don't worry. I prepared for this. A batch of GH325 was moved before production ended. And during your death, a secret lab kept operating…"

"The new GH671 serum can perfectly revive humans. Now, we just need to find the heroes' bodies—and we can bring them back perfectly…"

"I've sent trusted agents to track down the bodies. You'll see your friends again soon."

Sheeler's eyes widened. "Perfect revival? Already? I thought it was still…"

"We all know the secret lies in the raw material—alien tissue. As long as the active components are sufficient, revival is possible…"

"Before I died, I hid part of my own tissue—waiting for this day. To revive the Avengers."

Sheeler nodded slowly. "Director, foresight."

"Then…" Nick stood, gazing out the window at New York. "Prepare for the heroes' return."

The screen froze on Nick's serious expression. On the couch before it, a row of people sat with questions. Peter and Steve turned first, staring at the Nick Fury beside them.

Then they looked back at the screen, then again at the Nick beside them. Peter scratched his head. "This… is that your double? Director Fury, how are you two so identical?"

Steve narrowed his eyes. He couldn't tell any difference between the two Nick Furys.

Stark noticed more. "If he's not your double, how does he know about Project TAHITI? You said only you, Sheeler, and Natasha knew about it."

"If he's a bio-engineered imposter with special abilities, he couldn't know these secrets—only you knew them. What's going on?"

The Nick on the couch smiled, watching the live feed. "Keep watching. He'll do more than that."

Nick, sitting on the sofa, smiled and said, watching the live stream on the screen:

"Keep watching—he'll do more than just this."