Deep within the heart of the Triskelion, Phil Coulson sat before a glowing terminal, his eyes scanning the data Barbara Morse had transmitted.
The intelligence was a series of hammer blows to his understanding of the world. He summarized the key findings in his mind:
First, Shiranui Hayate's physical power defied all biological norms. Barbara estimated his raw lifting strength at over three tons—a level that surpassed even the most elite special forces and ventured deep into the territory of high-level 'Enhanced' individuals.
Second, a suit of iron armor—suspiciously similar to the one forged in an Afghan cave—sat in Hayate's private quarters.
Third, the symbol represented Konohagakure—the Village Hidden in the Leaves. It was a sophisticated society with its own military academy and a rigid power structure. Most crucially, it was not located in Japan, but in some unknown, hidden corner of the world.
Fourth, those who wore the mark were Shinobi. Upon graduating from the Academy, they were granted the forehead protector as a mark of their true status.
Fifth, the ranks were clearly defined: Genin, Chunin, and Jonin. Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, and Rock Lee were Genin—the lowest rank. Umino Iruka was a Chunin, and Shizune was an elite Jonin.
As for Shiranui Hayate? His rank remained a terrifying question mark.
Coulson felt a chill. Behind Hayate stood a hidden nation with a perfected training system and a hierarchy of supernatural warriors. This wasn't just a mercenary group; it was a sovereign shadow power.
He printed the files, the paper still warm as he gripped them. He didn't wait. He headed straight for the Director's office.
In the war room of the Shiranui firm, the atmosphere was heavy enough to crush bone.
Hayate sat at the head of the obsidian table, his gaze cold and distant. One by one, his subordinates filed in. Uzumaki Naruto, having just finished a long day of missions, stumbled in half-asleep, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey, Uncle! Did you call us all here for some super-important S-Rank mission?"
His voice echoed loudly in the tense silence.
Elena Morse stood among the newcomers, her expression a mask of professional curiosity. Inside, her heart was a frantic bird. She had checked her room for bugs and cameras—there were none. Her transmission had been shielded.
Did I slip up? No, it's impossible, she told herself.
Shizune was the last to enter. She placed a small, nondescript box on the table before Hayate and stepped back into the line.
The room was divided. On one side stood the shinobi: Naruto, Sasuke, Lee, Iruka, and Shizune.
On the other stood the "Executioners": Hotaru, John Wick, Carlos, Wesley, and Elena.
Hayate's eyes swept over them. Suddenly, his presence expanded.
A wave of terrifying killing intent, thick with raw chakra, flooded the room. It was like the sudden weight of a collapsing mountain.
Shizune and the other ninja braced themselves, recognizing the sheer scale of Hayate's power. But for the others—John Wick and Carlos included—it felt like the air had turned to lead. Cold sweat broke out on their brows, drenching their clothes in seconds.
Hayate let the pressure linger for a heartbeat before pulling it back into himself.
"As a leader," he began, his voice low and vibrating with a dangerous resonance, "I consider myself fair. I provide for my people. I protect them."
He paused, his eyes narrowing into predatory slits.
"But there are two types of people I will never tolerate. The first is the traitor—the one who eats at my table and plots behind my back."
The Executioners shifted, their eyes darting toward one another. The shinobi on the opposite side kept their gazes fixed on their counterparts, their hands hovering near their weapon pouches.
The air in the room was electric, ready to ignite.
"The second," Hayate continued, "is the wolf in sheep's clothing. The spy who thinks they can hide in my shadow."
His gaze locked onto the blonde woman at the end of the line.
"Isn't that right, Agent Elena Morse?"
Barbara's blood turned to ice. She didn't wait for him to finish. She knew she had been compromised.
In a blur of motion, she lunged for Wesley, the person closest to her. She needed a hostage—a shield to negotiate her exit.
But she never reached him.
SHING!
A green blur flickered across her vision. Before she could even register the movement, a hand like an iron vice slammed into the back of her neck, driving her face-first into the floor.
Rock Lee stood over her, his expression unusually grim.
"Move again," Lee said, his voice devoid of its usual cheer, "and I will break every bone in your body."
"Bring her forward," Hayate commanded.
Lee pulled a length of specialized rope from his pouch, binding Barbara's arms with professional efficiency before hauling her to the front of the table.
Hayate reached out and opened the box Shizune had brought. Inside lay the satellite phone and the spherical signal dampener.
Barbara looked at the devices, her mind reeling. She still didn't understand how they had detected her.
"Elena Morse... or should I say, Barbara Morse?"
Hayate leaned forward, the light from the overhead lamps casting deep shadows across his face. He remembered her now—the face was unmistakable. In another life, another world, she was a hunter. Here, she was merely a bird in a cage.
The mention of her real name shattered the last of her composure. Barbara looked up, her gaze hardening as the mask of 'Elena' finally fell away.
"So you knew," she spat, her voice cold.
"I am Agent Barbara Morse. I represent the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."
She raised her chin, meeting Hayate's terrifying gaze with the defiance of a woman who had already accepted her fate.
"Codename: Mockingbird."