Alexander Pierce was developing a migraine.
When he accepted leadership of the rebuilt S.H.I.E.L.D., he hadn't expected Nick Fury to leave behind such a spectacular collection of problems before disappearing into the Hero Bureau.
Now Pierce had inherited all of it.
Worse, the new S.H.I.E.L.D. had effectively become America's latest privileged intelligence authority.
Which was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Everyone knew the United States' three major intelligence agencies were vicious territorial predators. Giving S.H.I.E.L.D. overlapping authority was like tossing a fourth shark into blood-filled water.
Pierce genuinely wondered whether the new president had lost his mind.
Then again, maybe not.
Pierce still vividly remembered the president discovering that one rival political faction had deep ties to Eastern European oil interests. The man had charged forward eagerly, convinced he'd uncovered a career-ending scandal.
Right up until he learned that members of his own faction and several close aides were tangled up in it too.
The expression on his face had been unforgettable.
Like someone trying to swallow broken glass while smiling for cameras.
Pierce had no doubt that if the president kept digging deeper, eventually a national security official would quietly visit him late at night and explain, in very calm detail, how certain powerful American families had once dominated politics before abruptly collapsing overnight.
Entire bloodlines erased.
Careers annihilated.
Heirs mysteriously dying before adulthood.
History had a way of teaching lessons to ambitious puppets who forgot who actually held the strings.
Pierce even remembered hearing that the final surviving heir of one particularly famous political dynasty had died in a "car accident" barely a week before turning eighteen.
Convenient.
The old families were remarkably committed people.
If they decided your bloodline ended, they tended to follow through.
And they never forgot.
Not after decades.
Not ever.
The slow, methodical destruction wasn't just punishment.
It was a warning.
A reminder to everyone in power that presidents, senators, and officials were often far less important than they imagined.
Even as one of Hydra's senior leaders, Pierce felt constrained now.
Hydra might have been one of the most dangerous organizations on Earth, but the rise of Drex Valen and the Hero Bureau had changed the game completely.
Pierce had no idea how effective Drex's intelligence network truly was.
But he had absolutely no intention of underestimating a man like that.
Most geniuses specialized in narrow fields. Science. Engineering. Strategy.
People like that often struggled with leadership or interpersonal control.
But occasionally, monsters appeared.
People who combined terrifying intelligence with equally terrifying social instincts.
The kind of person who could revolutionize science in the morning and reorganize a global institution by evening.
Natural rulers.
Drex Valen was that kind of anomaly.
Which was exactly why Hydra had drastically reduced most visible activity.
Nobody wanted the Director of the Hero Bureau noticing patterns.
Unfortunately, that left Pierce fighting America's intelligence agencies using mostly his own political leverage instead of Hydra's hidden resources.
Still, even organizations like the FBI and CIA had weaknesses.
Pierce knew that firsthand.
Years ago, the FBI had arrested a state governor over a five-thousand-dollar bribery charge.
Publicly, the media focused obsessively on the absurdly low amount.
Late-night comedians mocked it.
News networks turned it into political entertainment.
What almost nobody talked about was what the investigation uncovered afterward:
A massive organ trafficking network stretching across much of the United States.
The deeper the FBI dug, the uglier things became.
The trail eventually started leading toward both the CIA and members of Congress.
At that point, the investigation effectively committed suicide.
Several FBI investigators suddenly developed severe depression and "took their own lives."
High-profile prisoners somehow killed themselves inside facilities specifically designed to prevent suicide.
Funding for the FBI mysteriously suffered again shortly afterward.
And every other agency involved quietly decided they'd seen enough.
That was how America really worked beneath the surface.
Pierce intended to exploit that reality.
The United States only had so much power to distribute. Four intelligence agencies competing over the same territory inevitably created friction.
Officially, the CIA lacked domestic law enforcement authority.
Unofficially?
CIA operatives impersonated FBI agents constantly.
At this point, half the complaints sent to the FBI involved crimes committed by someone pretending to be FBI personnel.
Naturally, the FBI retaliated by impersonating the CIA and NSA whenever convenient.
The entire intelligence community resembled a pack of wolves wearing each other's skins.
Pierce sighed.
"Funny how Russia manages to let Hammer and Leviathan coexist without immediately trying to strangle each other."
Then his expression hardened.
Don't blame me for moving first.
Because if you waited too long in this game, you died.
Pierce immediately began arranging his next moves.
Exactly the kind of outcome Drex had worried about when privileged superhuman agencies started spreading worldwide.
At that exact moment, Drex Valen stood inside the Hero Bureau Academy.
The students gathered there represented the absolute peak of global talent.
Future operatives.
Military prodigies.
Enhanced candidates.
Among them were elite trainees originally prepared by Leviathan as future Russian intelligence assets.
Others came from American black-ops programs designed to produce the next generation of super-agents.
Every nation had sent monsters in human form.
Drex looked down calmly at the assembled recruits.
"Starting today," he said evenly, "and continuing until graduation, each of you will receive a designation number."
His voice echoed across the enormous training hall.
"You will have no names. No public identities. No records. No history."
The room remained completely silent.
"Everything connected to your previous lives will be erased."
A few students visibly stiffened.
Drex continued without pause.
"Only the twenty-six most exceptional agents will earn individual letter designations."
One letter.
That alone would become their identity.
"That," Drex said coldly, "is how the Hero Bureau operates."
He scanned the crowd slowly.
"If anyone dislikes those terms, leave now."
Nobody moved.
Not a single one.
Because every person in that room already understood something terrifying:
They weren't enrolling in a school.
They were volunteering to become weapons.