The 05 Council was holding another meeting at Site-01, though "holding" was more of a conceptual term than a physical one. Not all of us were present in the same room. Holograms, illusions, and video calls filled the gaps where we couldn't be. Darius's figure flickered slightly above the conference table, projected in full 3D from who-knows-where. Michael, as usual, had forgotten the meeting until reminded moments ago and appeared as a slightly lagging video feed on the massive holo-screen. Julius was represented by one of his soul-powered illusions, quietly tapping through paperwork no one could see, and I was seated at the head of the table in person, my fingers drumming idly on the polished wood.
"Alright," I started, leaning back in my chair and letting my voice carry over the projected members. "Let's get straight to it. SHIELD has been increasingly… irritating. Losing anomalous items to them is a trend we don't appreciate. They're clumsy, slow, and completely beneath our notice—but irritating nonetheless."
Darius's hologram shifted slightly, his shadow stretching unnaturally. "I've been monitoring them," he said. His tone was even, cold. "They're trying to expand their operations into anomalies we've already secured. Mostly they're ineffectual. Items we can easily track and recover if necessary. But their interference has increased in frequency."
Michael's feed flickered before stabilizing. "Frequency? Darius, you mean they're stepping on our toes, or just moving their own furniture in our house?" He chuckled, but there was an edge to the joke, as always. "Because if it's the former, it's a problem. The latter… well, it's SHIELD. Their incompetence is already public record."
"I'd say it's somewhere in between," I replied, steepling my fingers. "They're doing damage to the chain of acquisitions and research. A few of the items they've taken are minor, yes. Beverly lost a few of the less useful artifacts—but this mosquito is persistent. Annoying enough that it's worth discussing strategy."
Julius's illusion shifted slightly. His voice was smooth, the sort of dry tone that could carry sarcasm even when his body wasn't physically present. "Strategy? You mean stamping it out? Because I don't see a mosquito worth bothering with if all it does is buzz around and annoy the perimeter guards."
I smiled faintly, amused. "You underestimate their persistence. A mosquito can still ruin a dinner party, Julius. It's the principle of it. SHIELD isn't dangerous… yet. But the longer we leave them alone, the more audacious they'll become. They're learning, adapting, thinking they can manage anomalies. It's an arrogance that needs… monitoring."
Darius interjected, his tone clipped. "Monitoring is sufficient. We do not engage. Their global reach is limited, their knowledge base shallow. Intervening directly would be a waste of resources. They don't pose a real threat. Any losses can be recouped quickly."
Michael groaned, leaning toward the camera. "So… we're just going to watch them flail about like toddlers playing with fireworks while we sip tea and count our trillions?"
"Yes," I said, finally. "Exactly. There's a certain satisfaction in observing incompetence unfold without lifting a finger. It's called efficiency, Michael. You should try it sometime."
Julius snorted, though the illusionary form of his mouth barely moved. "Efficiency, or laziness? The line blurs for some of us."
Darius's hologram shifted, one of his eyes glowing faintly in the projection. "It is neither. It is calculation. Every unnecessary interaction increases risk. SHIELD's mistakes provide us intelligence without exposure. The more they attempt, the more we learn about their methods and weaknesses."
I leaned forward, fingers tapping on the tabletop. "Exactly. Let them try. Let them stumble. Every misstep, every mismanaged acquisition, tells us exactly where to focus if they ever grow bold enough to challenge us seriously—which they won't. Not with our resources, not with our operatives in the right places. We're centuries ahead of them, and they don't even know what they're stepping into."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "So… basically, we're treating them like children with dangerous toys. Let them play until they inevitably cut themselves on reality."
I chuckled, a faint note of amusement in my tone. "Perfect analogy. And when they cut themselves, we'll be the ones cleaning up, healing, and taking notes—still untouched, still invisible to the world, still in control. They're irritating, yes—but a mosquito can be swatted at any time."
Julius's illusion tilted its head. "And when they do get bold? When SHIELD inevitably makes a move we can't ignore?"
I allowed a small, confident smile to stretch across my face. "Then we act. But until that day, let them believe they're making progress. It keeps them motivated, keeps them exposed, and keeps our hands clean. Observing is better than interfering—always."
Darius's hologram gave a subtle nod. "Then monitoring continues. No engagement. Every operation logged, every agent accounted for. The mosquito is noted."
Michael muttered something under his breath, something about "boring supremacy," but I ignored it, letting the conversation settle. SHIELD was nothing more than a minor annoyance—a buzzing mosquito in a universe we dominated. We had time, resources, and the advantage of centuries of preparation.
And as long as that remained true, the upstart organization could keep buzzing all it wanted. It wouldn't matter. Not yet.