Chapter 46: Give You a Chance to Survive
"What are you talking about, Agent Dante? I'm just here alone, having a beer."
Grant Ward, that absolute scumbag—his acting was flawless. Even when caught off guard, he didn't crack at all.
Dante had to admit, if he hadn't transmigrated into this mess of a multiverse, he would've definitely been fooled by this snake.
"Drop the act. Keep pretending long enough and you might actually start believing it yourself." Dante sat down beside Ward, leaned in close, and whispered in his ear, "Assassination, infiltration, deep cover—you're one of the most elite agents in the FBI. And also one of HYDRA's most trusted dogs."
Grant Ward smiled, but his hand had already started to draw the silver Glock from his waistband.
Too bad for him—Dante was faster.
The moment the gun was drawn, Dante pressed it right back into the holster and casually flipped the safety on like he was clocking into his day job.
Ward watched the whole thing unfold in stunned silence. His brain was screaming at him to react, but his body couldn't keep up with Dante's speed at all.
In the end, all he could do was let go of the gun, helpless, wearing the perfect face of a loyal and brave man caught in a desperate situation.
"Who are you, really? Are you the HYDRA agent who infiltrated the Bureau? Damn it! I won't let what happened a few years ago repeat itself!"
Dante watched his little performance and almost applauded for real.
Why waste talent as a HYDRA agent? With those acting chops and that face, if he jumped into the entertainment industry, he'd blow every idol group off the stage.
"My god, your acting is phenomenal, isn't it?"
"For a second there, I was starting to think you actually had dissociative identity disorder. One personality is FBI Agent Grant Ward, the other is HYDRA Agent Grant Ward."
"That would also explain why you weren't technically brainwashed by HYDRA. Most people with mental illness are immune to brainwashing or psychic interference. Like Harley Quinn. Unless HYDRA cuts open her skull and scrambles her brain structure, there's no way she'd be controlled."
Dante's tone was full of mock admiration, complete with a wide-eyed Oh my god face.
Then he casually grabbed a bottle of beer from in front of Ward.
Ward was still putting on a tough act, but beads of sweat were clearly forming on his forehead.
His earlier outburst had been loud, loud enough to get attention—yet no one responded. Which could only mean one thing: there was no one else on the mobile command center. And all the surveillance systems had been shut off or destroyed.
Grant Ward realized: he was completely, utterly alone.
And this situation… had clearly been arranged in advance by the agent across from him.
But most importantly…
There was no way in hell he could beat the beer-sipping monster in front of him.
"Oh, right—your old handler was John Garrett, wasn't he?"
"...No comment! You HYDRA bastards won't get anything out of me!"
"I really should stop praising your acting, but your commitment is truly impressive." Dante gave him a thumbs-up—but his eyes gleamed sharper than ever. "John Garrett, one of HYDRA's top leaders. And you… his most loyal dog."
The moment those words left Dante's mouth, Ward's back went stiff, and a wave of cold sweat drenched his collar.
That was his second-biggest secret—exposed in a single sentence. Fear aside, his brain couldn't process how someone else could possibly know this.
"Agent Dante... Officially you're a Level 7 Agent, but in reality, your clearance is just below Fury himself. So why would someone at your level be targeting me?"
"Oh? Still not gonna tell the truth?"
Dante sighed. He didn't have time for this Oscar-winning performance.
"You really think I said all that just to bait you? You've got it all wrong. The best liars are the ones who doubt everything." Dante tapped the beer bottle on the table, watching foam and liquid trickle down the bar to the floor. "Once upon a time, you were a protector—guarding your little brother from your abusive father and older brother. But in the end, you were the one who shoved him into a well and crippled him."
"Your hidden past, that's the real story, isn't it? No matter how good your acting is, no matter how much you've rewritten those memories in your head… you're still the abuser. The liar. The betrayer."
Grant Ward's breath caught. The grief and stubbornness in his eyes instantly shifted into something colder—something darker.
As a transmigrator, Dante knew: in Ward's heart, screw HYDRA, screw John Garrett. None of that compared to the fantasy he'd constructed to justify himself.
Some childhood "brother protector"? Get real.
"...Who the hell are you? How do you know all of this? Do you know my brother? Garrett wiped my past clean!"
The barrage of questions meant only one thing—Ward's mental defense just shattered.
Dante smirked to himself. Nailed it.
"I'm just an FBI agent. You don't need to know how—I just know everything. Compared to me, John Garrett calling himself 'The Clairvoyant' is a joke. His so-called power? Just a Level 8 security clearance and a big mouth."
"Pfft, what a joke. I could laugh about that for ten years straight."
As Dante laid out every detail—Ward's secrets, Garrett's motives, even the bit about Ward liking older women—without holding anything back, something interesting happened.
Grant Ward stopped freaking out.
He got calm.
"...What do you want me to do?"
"Oh? Not gonna go out in a blaze of glory? That's not very HYDRA of you."
"Right now, this entire airborne command center is cut off. No contact with the ground or sky. My odds of escape are zero. But you haven't killed me yet… which means you want something."
Resigned, Grant Ward prepared for whatever came next. After all, there wasn't much else he could do.
And honestly? It wasn't like he was some ride-or-die HYDRA loyalist anyway.
"Correct. Very sharp."
"Now I want to give you a chance—a chance to live. The only question is…"
"Do you want it?"
(To be continued.)
Chapter 47: Supervisor Dante
Grant Ward froze.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Don't overthink it. I mean it literally," Dante said coolly. "Only by helping me with a few things will you get to keep your life—and your secrets."
He didn't give Ward room to argue. Wouldn't have entertained it anyway.
Ward seemed to be weighing the pros and cons. His expression darkened, unreadable.
"So… what do I get out of this?"
"What? You want benefits?" Dante looked at him like he'd grown an extra head. "I'm letting a HYDRA agent live. What more do you want? That's already the golden ticket, buddy."
"…Alright. Got it."
Grant Ward wasn't loyal to America.
He wasn't loyal to HYDRA.
He sure as hell wasn't loyal to John Garrett.
The only thing Ward ever served was himself.
Survival above all.
So, he stayed silent.
Dante finally let his smirk fade. "Looks like you've come to terms with it. Good. First thing you need to do… is kill someone."
"Kill who?"
"Oh, there's more than one," Dante said breezily. "First up: Agent Sitwell. One of the top officials in the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Most of the HYDRA moles in the Bureau were brought in by him. And the guy's network of political contacts? A roach nest. He's got half of Capitol Hill tangled in HYDRA threads."
Dante's tone chilled.
"So you're gonna kill him."
He paused, then added, "And while you're at it, send all those HYDRA-colluding politicians straight to hell. It's probably a long list. But for your own life, I trust you'll get it done."
"…You're more HYDRA than HYDRA."
With that, he held up his hand—and transformed it partially into diamond.
Then slowly ground the beer bottle in front of him into glittering glass powder.
Ward's eyes widened like saucers.
"You… you have powers besides self-healing?"
Dante gave him a smug look and retracted the transformation.
"Who told you I only had one ability? Even if I did, I'd still be able to beat you into a meat smoothie. Now get lost, Grant Ward. And don't forget to tell Coulson you're off the team."
Ward stood, eyes flicking between fear and gratitude, and backed out fast.
Faced with the choice between killing others and dying himself… he picked others. Instantly.
Dante watched him leave, lips curling into a cold sneer.
Sure, he remembered the major players, but the intricate web of HYDRA influence in the political arena? That was still fuzzy.
But Ward knew.
And nothing cleans out a roach nest better than turning one of the roaches loose on the others.
As for Sitwell—that shiny-headed bastard—Dante hadn't expected him to survive the last HYDRA purge. And yet, here he was, still hiding under Maria Hill's chain of command.
The FBI still needed a good old-fashioned purge. And not a single HYDRA agent was getting a free pass this time.
Luckily, cleaning house would be easy.
The X-Men alone had over a dozen telepaths.
Psychics were very good at sniffing out moles.
Didn't matter how deep the brainwashing went—no lie held up under mental scan.
Thinking of this, Dante suddenly smacked his forehead and jumped up to open a portal.
…
Three days later.
Phil Coulson stood outside the airborne command center and addressed the team.
"With regret, I'm here to inform you that Agent Grant Ward has, for personal reasons, withdrawn from the Special Emergency Team."
"But in his place, we welcome a new member: FBI Level 7 Agent Melinda May. Recruited into the Bureau by none other than America General Bureau's first Director—Peggy Carter. And she used to be my partner."
The younger team members clapped and cheered.
Melinda May walked calmly up to the group, gave a curt nod, then shot Coulson a look sharp enough to cut glass.
"You said this team had two science nerds and one forensics girl. Now there's a hacker baby too?"
She looked straight at Skye, who suddenly seemed very interested in her shoes.
"This team already has two non-combat liabilities. And now there's a third?"
"Ahem," Coulson cleared his throat quickly under her death glare. "While Skye wasn't part of the initial lineup, she's proven that a top-tier hacker is too valuable to ignore."
"However," he continued, "Skye told me she doesn't just want to stay behind a screen. She wants to train as a field Agent. For that, I've assigned her a personal supervisor."
"Supervisor?" May narrowed her eyes and scanned the squad—her gaze settling on Oliver Queen and Wade Wilson.
Green Arrow and Deadpool. Definitely looked like combat-ready babysitters.
But then, right on cue, a portal opened beside her.
Dante stepped out, casually adjusting his jacket and coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her.
"Dante. I've heard a lot about you."
They shook hands.
"So you're the one assigned to the hacker baby?"
"Yep. I'll be sticking with Coulson's crew for a while."
"Oh? What about the Star Team?"
"They're off on a one-month war training program," Dante said, visibly shuddering. "Our Death Goddess is running it."
Training… from a god.
Ada and Harley were fine—they were into that kind of thing—but the pitiful little eyes of Wanda and Pietro?
Dante honestly couldn't bear to look.
Utter misery.
(To be continued.)
Chapter 48: The Undercover Skye
"Oliver, you get any of that?"
"Nothing major. They said Skye's new supervisor is Agent Dante—Captain of the Star Team. Oh, and the Star Team got dragged off for special training by the Death Goddess."
The Death Goddess.
Just a few days ago, when Dante brought her down from Asgard to HQ, the energy detection system across the entire building nearly exploded.
Getting special training from that kind of monster—was that a reward or a death sentence?
"But still," Wade said, turning to Skye with actual envy, "you're seriously lucky. Dante's personally your supervisor. Even without his powers, he's still in the same league as Natasha Romanoff."
Skye didn't hear a word of that.
Her gaze was laser-focused on Dante.
He didn't have a mountain-of-muscle build—more like a lazy, streamlined leopard. The kind that seemed harmless until it pounced and shredded you before you could blink.
She instantly regretted going undercover in the FBI for the Rising Tide.
She could've just been a hacker. But noooo, she had to go chasing conspiracy theories…
And now the biggest conspiracy of all?
That the government had been hiding a snack like Dante from the public.
…
After greeting the entire Coulson Team, Dante finally stepped in front of Skye.
"Hey, Skye. I'm your new supervisor, Dante."
"Hello," Skye replied politely, reaching out for a handshake.
And that's when Dante yanked her into a sudden embrace.
She instinctively opened her mouth to curse—only to feel her shoulder strap flip up in that exact moment.
Her blood turned cold.
Tucked inside that strap was a microSD card containing sensitive FBI intel—data she was meant to pass to the Rising Tide.
"Coulson. Catch," Dante said casually, tossing the card across the room. "Didn't you say someone's been downloading classified data beyond their clearance level? It's hacker baby. Found it right here."
He didn't have X-ray vision. He just knew Skye.
And while this world's timeline was a little scrambled—Skye joined the FBI earlier than expected—Coulson and the rest were still in the dark about her identity.
Facing the silent stares of the others, Skye suddenly stopped resisting. Her brain flipped to 'screw it' mode.
"How are you going to keep the truth hidden? The truth is everywhere! The Rising Tide will rise! You'll never stop us! You'll never find our true faces! We are the tide, we are the resistance, we are the voice that speaks against the ones who silence truth!"
Skye shouted like she was halfway through a drama monologue about to roll into the "torture scene."
Dante just blinked.
He honestly felt like he'd watched too many two-person stage plays with overly dramatic lighting and one camera angle.
He gave her a soft, almost divine smile—so serene, it short-circuited her brain.
Then, without warning, he dropped a black hood over her head.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?! The FBI is a monster built to devour truth! The Rising Tide are the Guardians of knowledge! We resist your corrupt, fascist—"
"Blah blah blah, chirp chirp chirp—aren't you noisy?" Dante casually flicked her on the forehead, dead center.
"When did hacker orgs start branding themselves as heroes of justice? Sounds real cute on paper, but let me guess—you're aware the Rising Tide has been selling classified intel on the black market, right?"
"Lies! Slander! The Rising Tide is the embodiment of truth and freedom!"
"Fine. Righteous justice partners, got it." Dante sighed. "Now shut up. Say another word and I'll spank you. Be warned, I'm single and not entirely against doing something inhumane."
"…Wait, you're single?"
"Skye. I have never seen someone fall that hard, that fast, in my life."
…
In front of the entire team, Dante and Coulson tossed Skye into the mobile command center's interrogation room.
"Dante, confirmation just came through," Coulson said. "While the files she accessed weren't extremely sensitive, they were definitely outside a probationary agent's clearance."
"Also," he added, "latest intel says Skye was spotted at yesterday's New York explosion. She used the Rising Tide's account to post a video. A guy in a hoodie scaled a building, pulled someone out, then jumped off the fifth floor without gear."
Dante nodded, yanked off the black hood, and dropped into a chair.
Skye blinked hard as her vision returned. She was in a small, sterile metal room. Gray walls, dull lights, one table, two chairs.
Classic "you done screwed up" aesthetic.
"Am I about to get interrogated?"
"Eh," Dante shrugged, flipping through her file. "Honestly, your little drama doesn't even warrant a real interrogation."
"But you do have some information we're interested in. Namely, what do you know about yesterday's explosion?"
Dante had a general sense of where the plot was going, but the multiverse shuffle meant everything had already deviated.
Best to let it unfold naturally.
Especially since he couldn't just walk up and tell Coulson, "Hey, I'm really into this explosion because I know the script." That would raise… questions.
"Skye, we need a name," he said, suddenly serious. "That person in the video was a hero. And thanks to your little upload, he's now in deep trouble."
"Why do you think I know who it was?"
"You infiltrated the FBI as an undercover agent. You were at the explosion site. So yeah, we're assuming you filmed that video and gave it to Rising Tide."
"Uh-huh, but you just realized you can't crack the encryption on my laptop or my phone… so in reality, you've got nothing."
"You know, the FBI doesn't work like the NYPD—we don't need all that 'due process' stuff," Dante said casually. "So technically, we can still say you caused the explosion just to bait out the enhanced individual."
That hit a nerve.
Skye slammed her hand on the table and stood up.
"You think it was me?! You people are the ones who always cover things up with explosions! This isn't your first time! And what about the Centipede Project?!"
"…Centipede? What Centipede Project?" Coulson narrowed his eyes.
Skye's mouth dropped open.
"Wait… you seriously don't know?"
And then she cracked up.
Like, full-body, chair-shaking, villain-laugh cracked up.
"Hahahaha! You've got billions of dollars of cutting-edge tech—and you guys are still flying blind! I could crush your entire communications department with just my laptop!"
(To be continued.)
Chapter 49: Even If a Man Isn't Drunk, He Can Still Make You Cry
Dante glanced at Skye—who was still laughing—and then shot Coulson a look.
She wasn't wrong. The FBI's communications department really was trash-tier.
Even with a crushing advantage in equipment, they still got led around like puppies on a leash by Rising Tide.
This definitely needed to be handed off to the FBI Academy later. It was about time they started recruiting and training hackers with actual talent—like Skye.
"But think about that person," Dante said, tone dropping. "Yes, we admit we want to recruit him… but just to bring him in, not to harm him."
He leaned forward across the table, hands braced. Their faces were now just inches apart.
Close enough to feel each other's breath.
"But what about the others? You know the kind of groups out there—the ones that thrive on chaos. They won't stop at recruiting him. They'll use him. And after that?"
Dante stared into her eyes.
"They'll cut him up. Best-case scenario, they slice him open for research. Worst case? They slice him up just to taste him."
"...The Centipede Project," Skye finally said, her tone more cautious now. "It showed up briefly on the job boards online, then vanished once they had enough recruits. I tracked it through its MAC access point. The signal was coming from the building where the explosion happened."
A flicker of hesitation flashed in her eyes, but ultimately, she gave up the info.
Because Skye wasn't stupid.
She wasn't some diehard zealot either. She was smart, which is exactly why she'd become a legend in the hacking world.
And Dante's words had hit their mark.
She might see the government as a truth-suppressing monster, but even monsters had rules.
The ones in the dark? They only existed to destroy.
Dante watched her with interest.
"Let's see… hacked the FBI, infiltrated the FBI, stalks Superhumans online… you weren't just camping outside Tony Stark's bearded skyscraper, hoping to bump into Iron Man for a 'chance encounter,' were you?"
He gave her a wicked grin. "Wait… are you a Superhero stalker?"
"Excuse me?! That's slander!" Skye's eyes widened. "I only… did it once! I was just curious! What, a hacker girl can't do a little surveillance and suddenly it's stalking?!"
Then came a flood of barely decipherable words like "I swear I'm not into Iron Man" and "Wait, did you really say you don't have a girlfriend?"
The interrogation room, somehow, turned into a sitcom set.
Coulson watched the scene unfold and knew it was time to move on. There were more important things at stake.
Like not letting the team's first mission crash and burn.
Thinking quickly, the middle-aged fox shifted gears.
Coulson pulled a syringe-shaped device from his coat pocket.
A gun-shaped syringe.
He laid it on the table in front of Skye and spoke in an unnervingly calm voice.
"This is a QNB-T16. You probably don't recognize the model, but it's the FBI's latest and most powerful truth serum. Even the strongest-willed person will end up spilling how many times they wet the bed as a kid. The effect lasts about an hour. Long enough. But not too long."
Dante immediately caught on—Coulson wanted him to play along.
Originally, this kind of job would've gone to Grant Ward. But since that ship had sailed, guess it was his now.
If the serum had been real, Dante would've shot Coulson right there on the spot.
But…
It was fake. A bluff.
A con pulled on a fangirl.
"You don't need to worry," Dante said, keeping his voice gentle. "We'll release you as soon as we get the full intel."
He raised his hand slightly.
Signal received.
Coulson gave a small nod, then casually jabbed the syringe into Dante's arm.
He gave Dante's tricep a friendly pat and muttered under his breath:
"It's just saline."
Dante gave him a slight nod back, then said aloud, "Agent Dante, does it hurt?"
"Of course not. But getting stabbed out of nowhere is scary as hell…"
He paused, then smoothly shifted tone.
"Okay, maybe it hurts a little, but I swear it's nothing—Wait a sec! Coulson, why is this stuff kicking in so fast?!"
The last line was the cue. Coulson nodded subtly and left the room.
Man didn't even look back.
"You didn't trust the Bureau, right? Thought we were the monsters who devour truth?" he said on his way out. "Well now, you can ask him anything. I mean anything."
And just like that, he was gone.
But before disappearing, Coulson gave Skye a look that practically screamed: "You know what to do."
And Skye?
She absolutely knew what to do.
The moment the door closed, she sauntered over to Dante with a grin that was half-mischief, half-manic.
Gone was the righteous freedom fighter. Now she was a girl who had just found a shiny new toy.
She didn't say a word. Just took off her thin jacket, revealing a light gray tank top underneath, and sat down right next to him.
Like, very next to him.
Leaning in slightly. Definitely intentional.
"Agent Dante… are you nervous?"
"Nervous? Please," Dante scoffed. "You are gorgeous, no doubt. But I'm the kind of man who can juggle three women. There's no reason for me to get nervous around a kid like you."
"I'm not mature enough? You sure? You like older women, huh?" Skye ran her fingers through her hair. "Then why do I feel you trembling just a little?"
"Oh, that," Dante said, not missing a beat. "I was just imagining what'll happen if the three women I mentioned saw this moment right now."
"To be specific—two women and a goddess. They'd kill me."
…
Outside the room, Melinda May and Coulson watched through the monitor.
"Hard to believe a young agent like Dante could sync up so fast with a middle-aged fox like you," May muttered. "Now I see why Fury gave you two almost full autonomy. You three are exactly the same breed."
"I neither confirm nor deny that compliment," Coulson replied smoothly, still playing the harmless middle-aged man card. "But I am recording this footage. I have a feeling Agents Ada Wong and Harley Quinn would be very interested."
Yeah. Coulson was still holding a grudge about that "dating my ex in the Arctic" thing.
"Phil, everyone in the FBI knows Agent Dante's relationships with Ada and Harley are in a… delicate balance. You really want to be the one who tips it?"
"Balance is meant to be broken," Coulson said cheerfully. Then his expression hardened. "What did Fitz and Simmons find in the blast zone?"
May raised an eyebrow just as the two scientists walked out of the lab.
"We've got some bad news," Simmons said.
"The explosion was caused by a Centipede-type IV enhancer," Fitz added. "We analyzed the contents. It's a cocktail of all currently known enhanced-serum components—Extremis, Gamma radiation, Super Soldier Serum, and even alien material."
Coulson's face darkened. He had assumed this was a basic Rising Tide stunt tied to some rogue enhanced person.
But this?
This was a cover-up.
A cleanup job.
A wipe.
"And the main structure?" Coulson asked.
"It's a fusion—but mostly based on Extremis," Simmons said grimly. "We're talking about a patchwork version."
Everyone turned toward the voice that spoke next.
It was Dante.
He'd just finished playing his "truth serum" role.
And beside him, Skye was grinning like a fool, cheeks flushed, convinced she'd just wrung a goldmine of FBI secrets out of him.