Chapter Eight: The Bureau of National Strategic Defense and Offensive Logistics Support

“All right, I admit it—that’s me.” Arthur shrugged as he looked at the photograph.

“It’s enough that you’re not denying it. Our Homeland Strategic Defense, Attack, and Logistics Support Bureau oversees certain special existences on Earth, such as aliens—and, indeed, special humans like you and the Hulk,” Nick Fury explained to Arthur.

“Can you describe what has happened to you? How did you come to possess these extraordinary abilities?” Fury asked.

“My powers are innate. I hail from the underwater kingdom of Atlantis,” Arthur continued to spin his tale.

“We’ve investigated you. You grew up in Iceland. Your father died in a shipwreck. If you had those abilities since childhood, why didn’t you save your father during the accident?” Fury clearly didn’t believe him.

“All right. I didn’t have powers back then. It was during that shipwreck that I awakened them. That’s the only reason I survived,” Arthur replied helplessly.

“Fine. Can you describe your specific abilities?” Fury pressed on.

“I can breathe underwater, move swiftly through the sea, and my body is a bit stronger than a normal person’s—though not quite as strong as that creature I fought,” Arthur revealed, giving only a hint of his powers.

“We can see from the videos how powerful you are. We have a proposal and would like to invite you to join us.” Fury produced a dossier and handed it to Arthur.

The words “Avengers Initiative” were written at the top—so it really was the Avengers project. Arthur began to read intently.

“The Avengers Initiative is my plan to counter threats from aliens or other special humans. I intend to gather powerful individuals with unique abilities like yourself into a task force, so we can respond to unexpected crises,” Fury explained.

“Who else is on your list?” Arthur asked.

“Sorry, that’s top secret. I can’t disclose that now. I can only tell you that the Hulk, whom you’ve already met, is also on our recruitment list,” Fury replied.

“If I join, what will I be required to do? As you can see, I’m running a restaurant—I don’t exactly have a lot of free time.”

“We’ll only contact you when your skills are needed. Otherwise, you’re free to live your life,” Coulson explained from the side.

“Is there a salary?” Arthur asked suddenly.

“…Of course. Five thousand dollars a month, same as a federal employee,” Fury replied.

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” Arthur declined.

“Why? Do you think the job is too easy?” Fury asked.

“No reason. I’m just used to my freedom—I don’t like being constrained by others,” Arthur said.

“We won’t restrict your actions! We’d only ask you to lend us your strength at critical moments,” Fury coaxed.

“Not interested! For all I know, you might haul me off for experimentation. The last I heard, you were always chasing the Hulk,” Arthur retorted.

“That wasn’t us—it was General Ross of the U.S. Army who wanted to capture him. We’re just monitoring his movements,” Fury explained.

“So you’ll be monitoring my every move as well?” Arthur shot back.

“Sorry, that’s our job. We have to keep track of anything or anyone on Earth classified as a potential threat,” Coulson explained.

“You can go now! I have no interest in this so-called Avengers Initiative,” Arthur ordered them out.

Fury and Coulson exchanged glances, realizing that Arthur was stubborn and difficult to negotiate with.

“How about this—we change it to a partnership? Contract work?” Fury suggested.

“How would that work?” Arthur asked.

“If we need your help, we’ll hire you as a contractor. We’ll pay you, and you decide whether to take the job,” Fury proposed.

“How is that any different from joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Arthur asked.

“We won’t interfere with your life. We’ll simply ask for your help when necessary—and we’ll pay you. If you ever need something from us, we can assist you as well. If you have trouble with the police or anyone else, we can step in,” Fury said.

“I’ll think about it. It’s not impossible, but it depends on what you ask me to do,” Arthur replied helplessly. Although he didn’t have a good impression of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury and Phil Coulson seemed decent enough. Doing them a few favors wasn’t out of the question—and it would put him closer to the main story.

Fury and Coulson left satisfied. Though Arthur hadn’t agreed outright, his attitude toward S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t entirely hostile. If they ever needed his help, a fair price should be enough to persuade him—Fury could only hope for the best.

…

Arthur returned to his monotonous daily routine: training every morning, checking on the restaurant at midday, and returning to the ocean at night to absorb energy.

Deep beneath the sea, Arthur had built a stone house from the wreckage of sunken ships—a secret base of sorts. Inside, he kept treasures he’d collected from the ocean: antiques, gold coins, pearls, and jeweled ornaments. He had no need for these things; he wasn’t interested in money. They might serve as small gifts in the future.

Arthur lay on a coral bed inside his underwater house, closed his eyes, and gradually emptied his mind, absorbing the energy the ocean provided. Colorful fish darted joyfully around him, as if playing hide and seek. Yet Arthur felt the energy available to him diminishing, as though his body had reached its limit—each night’s cultivation brought less and less benefit.

He felt lost. Had his body reached its energy threshold, or was this stretch of ocean simply no longer able to meet his needs?

He decided to explore other seas. His current condition left him no choice.

At the Atlantis Restaurant, Arthur informed the staff that he would be gone for a while and instructed them to take care of the place. They all nodded, assuring him he could leave with peace of mind.

And so, Arthur left New York.

…

The vast Atlantic lay before him as Arthur sped through the water. The underwater world was as magnificent and vibrant as ever in his eyes.

He headed ever deeper, intent on finding the most mysterious region in the Atlantic: the Bermuda Triangle.

It was said that many ships had vanished there without a trace, as had planes and submarines—a dangerous and enigmatic stretch of sea.

Arthur felt as if some mysterious power was calling to him from within those waters.

He swam toward the deepest part of the ocean. The area was riddled with deep trenches, bottomless and complex, and peppered with active volcanoes. Arthur could see magma boiling in the volcanic vents.

The deeper he swam, the blacker his surroundings became, until there was no light at all—yet to Arthur, it was as bright as day. He pressed on swiftly.

But as he advanced, Arthur sensed something unusual in the currents. The further he went, the more turbulent the waters became, slowing his progress.

The water pressure increased, the currents raged, and his speed slowed to a crawl. Suddenly, a massive waterspout formed ahead—a colossal vortex into which everything around was being drawn.

Arthur realized something was wrong and tried to swim away, but he was already too close. The powerful current pulled at him, and despite all his strength, he could barely inch away from the whirlpool.

But fate was not on his side. The vortex seemed to move toward him. As the distance closed, Arthur realized he was powerless before the might of nature.

“Damn!” Everything went black as the water yanked him violently, spinning him around. He was swept into the heart of the immense whirlpool and lost consciousness.