Chapter One

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Director Nick Fury walked up the steps to the small, rundown apartment, of which's door graced the space in front of him. London, England was never Fury's favourite place to be for an extended period of time; the tourists, the crowds, and the rain were just some of the annoyances of the city, but he knew the reason he was there was more important than his own pet peeves.

As he stood at the door, he glanced down at the files in his hand, one labelled 'the Avengers Initiative' and the other, 'Umbra– Grey Caron'. Fury sighed as he flicked through the second file, pausing at several photos showing a young woman, newspaper clippings (all seemingly describing the same laboratory fire), and strange photos on what appeared to be floating phones, coffees, and clothes.

Fury eventually moved to knock at the door, but as he raised his hand, the door opened. Before him, a soft, medium sized grey shirt floated, as if a body was wearing it. A pair of socks folded over each other like feet, one rubbing up an invisible leg as an air of curiosity surrounded Fury and the outline in front of him.

Fury cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, taking in the obscure person in front of him before he started to speak. "Miss Caron, I presume?"

"That depends on who's asking," a woman's voice came from the figure, the tone light but with an underlay of suspicion. She had a British accent, but some of the words she spoke were rounded with French pronunciation.

"Director Fury, here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D."

The invisible veil started to melt away, and a young woman stood before Fury. Her light brown hair was loose around her head, and she stared at Fury with suspicion as she moved to let him into her small apartment. (Y/N)'s eyes were narrowed as she watched him, and she zoned straight into the file in his hand.

"Why do you have a file with my name on it?" she asked, her apprehension towards Fury growing by the minute. "What importance do I have to you people?"

"We've been keeping tabs on you, Miss Caron. For a good three years now." Fury slapped the two files down on the coffee table between the two couches and sat down, looking up at Grey, who continued to stand, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as he spoke.. "We started after the fire at the Palynoloical Laboratory here in London, and we've continued ever since."

"Why?" Grey asked in exasperation, "I've been quiet, I haven't caused any trouble. I have a job, a home, I'm a normal person!"

"But you're not normal, Grey, that's why we've been tracking you and why I'm here on your couch." Fury explained, looking up at her. "'Umbra'– that's why I'm here."

Grey scoffed, rolling her eyes at his words. "That's what they're calling me? 'Shadow' in Latin? Creative." She looked down at the files as she sat on the opposite couch. "What do 'the Avengers' have to do with 'Umbra'?"

"We want you to join us," before Grey could say anything, Fury quickly continued despite her glowering expression. "A hostile force has taken a very powerful weapon from S.H.I.E.L.D., and we're bringing together a group of people – enhanced people, like you – to get it back."

"What people?" Grey asked, "If you had stalked me thoroughly, you should know I prefer my own company."

Fury gave a wry smile as he nodded. "Then you'll fit right in. We're bringing in a number of superior humans. It's all in the file."

Grey picked up the folder, flipping through it. Her eyes landed on one name, and she groaned. "Tony Stark, that insufferable man from the news?"

"His power is something we cannot afford to ignore. You're not the only one to complain." Fury let out a chuckle as he stood up, brushing his hands on his black trousers. "I've got a flight back to DC to catch. A car will come to collect you at 0800 hours... are you ready to become one of Earth's mightiest heroes?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I, Sir?" Grey stood up as well, her face retaining the calm expression she'd wore for the entire conversation. Fury turned to her, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to get in that car tomorrow, Grey. You can stay here, with your job and your apartment, and we can continue watching you... or you can come with us and maybe make an impact on this Earth. It's your own choice."

With that last sentence, Fury left, leaving Grey alone with her thoughts and two large piles paperwork. She sighed, the exhaustion she felt finally showing through as she sat back down on the couch. She rubbed her eyes as she looked down at both files. As her eyes focused on her own folder, bright images of orange, flickering flames invaded her mind. She pushed that one away with an air of disgust, instead opting to open the Avengers profile.

Scenes of gunfire filled her vision as she took everything in. Assassins and Gods, billionaires and war heroes... Grey gulped as she continued to read, frowning in disbelief at some of the information written in there.

"Am I really expected to fight with these people?" she mumbled to herself, and already she felt small compared to them.

Though Grey didn't notice, the lamps surrounding her in her apartment had started to flicker. As she continued to read, her anxiety about this task grew, and as Grey felt her chest start to tighten in fear, the light bulb next to her suddenly blew.

Grey jumped, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she stared at the light. All the others had stopped glowing curiously as she focused on the one lamp. She reserved it just to the bulb burning out, but a tiny voice in her mind whispered sinisterly; "it was you."

'That's enough for today.' Grey thought, her breathing finally slowing. She slapped the file back down on the table, and headed into her own bedroom. Her mind was full of doubts and questions, ones that could only be answered by actually getting in the car that would be arriving in a few hours.

Grey was still unsure whether to accept Fury's offer or not. She decided to sleep on it, but throughout the night she tossed and turned, unable to close her eyes without seeing fire and bullets.

In the end, Grey dug out an old suitcase from the bottom of her wardrobe, absentmindedly filling it until it was full. She then sat, simply thinking, until a knock at the door came at eight o'clock that morning.

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