Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

Coulson didn't answer right away.

He paused, thinking seriously for a few seconds before replying, "I don't think it's necessary to suppress Superman."

"What's your reasoning?" Nick Fury asked, his eyes fixed on the image of Malrick standing unscathed in the middle of the explosion.

"Even though Superman's only appeared once, and he destroyed the Eagle military base with overwhelming force—he didn't harm a single innocent person in the process," Coulson explained.

"His actions were deliberate, targeted. He even made an effort to protect vulnerable civilians. Every local witness spoke of him with gratitude and respect."

"In other words, Director, he's more like a protector—or a judge—operating under a strict moral code. He may be powerful, but he's acting with purpose and discipline."

"If we try to suppress someone like that, we risk provoking a backlash—creating a much larger problem than we started with."

Nick Fury nodded slowly. It echoed what had been weighing on his mind: when you're dealing with someone that powerful and principled, aggression might be the worst approach.

Still, nothing unnerved Fury more than a situation he couldn't control.

Even knowing the smart move was diplomacy, he couldn't shake the need to plan for the worst.

"What if…" he said, pausing. "What if we could defeat him easily? Do you still think we shouldn't act?"

He was clearly thinking of Captain Marvel. With her power, taking Superman down might actually be possible.

Coulson went quiet again. This time, the pause lasted longer. Eventually, he shook his head.

"I still think it's a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because we still don't fully understand what he is, or what he's capable of. If he's anything like the Superman from the comics… exposure to sunlight makes him stronger."

He took a breath. "If we make a move, and fail to finish the job immediately, we could end up with an enemy who gets stronger by the day. One whose full potential we can't even predict."

Nick Fury narrowed his one good eye, staring at Superman frozen on the screen.

The room was silent.

"…I have to admit, you're right, Coulson."

He turned his chair slightly. "Alright. Your assignment's complete for now. Get your team ready. Keep an eye on Superman, monitor any sightings, and make contact when the opportunity arises."

"And," Fury added, "manage the media. Keep the narrative balanced. No hero worship, no demonization. We don't want to push him in the wrong direction."

"Yes, Director." Coulson nodded, gathering his files and tablet before heading out.

If there were such a thing as a perfect field agent, it was probably him.

Fury leaned back once Coulson had gone, turning toward the window.

He picked up a Superman comic lying nearby, thumbed through it, and tossed it aside with a sigh.

"The world's changing fast… That plan's going to need acceleration. As for agents—one Level 7 woman with cavalry credentials? Not enough…"

---

"Beep!"

Jarvis's calm voice chimed in. "Sir, your solar recharge session is complete."

Malrick sighed and pressed a button on the console, opening the hatch of the small solar capsule. He drifted back to Earth without much enthusiasm.

Lately, his power growth had been accelerating. Every time he bathed in solar radiation, he felt like his entire body was riding a surge of energy. It was… addictive.

Still, he couldn't go overboard. Testing the limits of his abilities required control, consistency—fixed exposure time, no variables.

But he had to admit… if it were up to him, he'd just live out there in orbit. In the sun, forever.

Within seconds, he landed back at the beachside mansion in Los Angeles.

He walked inside and checked the time on the wall display.

"Only 4 PM. Tony probably won't be back until seven or eight."

"Guess I'll run the usual strength diagnostics, then eat alone."

He muttered absentmindedly, heading toward his room to change into something more comfortable.

But he froze mid-step, one foot still hovering.

"Tony?" Malrick said aloud, his ears twitching slightly.

He had just heard something strange—another heartbeat in the house.

His super-hearing was usually dialed down, limited to what he wanted to hear. For something to slip past that meant it was very close.

Too close.

He stood still, listening again. It wasn't Tony.

Tony's heartbeat was erratic—faster, more uneven, years of stress and tech addiction taking their toll. But this one? Steady. Calm. And it was coming from Tony's room.

Malrick's brow furrowed. He didn't ask Jarvis. Instead, he quietly activated his X-ray vision.

Walls turned transparent. Furniture faded away.

His vision passed through Tony's massive bed… and there she was.

"…Natasha?"

Malrick's expression twisted into confusion.

Beneath Tony's bed—barely thirty centimeters of clearance—lay the infamous Black Widow.

She was flat on her back, eyes closed, breathing slowly, limbs relaxed like she was asleep. Her signature red hair was damp, draped over the floor.

If Malrick didn't know better, he'd think someone had left a mannequin under there.

But it was definitely her.

His first reaction was confusion.

His second was—why the hell was she hiding under Tony's bed?

And more importantly… why not under his?

Wait, no. That wasn't the point.

Something was off.

Even if SHIELD had decided to monitor Tony after his Iron Man reveal, sending Natasha Romanoff to literally hide under the man's bed seemed like an absurd move.

Was she planning to ambush him? Spy? Seduce? Assassinate?

It didn't fit her usual tactics.

Still uneasy, Malrick finally decided to check in with Jarvis.

"Jarvis, did anyone enter the mansion while I was gone?"

"No, sir," the AI responded smoothly. "All entry points were sealed after your departure."

---