Memory Alteration (Second Update)

"That’s strange." Skye licked her lips. "Why does my mouth taste like black tea, and why are there cookie crumbs on my clothes?"

Fitz and Simmons, who were busy in the laboratory converted from the Airbus cargo hold, both stopped what they were doing. They exchanged a glance, then nodded. They had noticed something was wrong before Skye did. The plane was currently heading toward the site of the 0-8-4 mission, and they did not want to trouble Coulson over such a minor matter, so they could only discuss it in private.

As close friends who told each other everything, they had exchanged opinions long ago.

"We have the same feeling as you. We’re investigating what chemical substance could be causing it," Simmons said cheerfully. "As far as I know, none of the experimental chemicals we brought onto the plane can leave a black tea taste in our mouths, so it can only be some interesting compound. And we haven’t been poisoned, so it should be something harmless and non-toxic. Fitz is testing the composition of the air in the cargo hold. Maybe the cabin needs testing too… Oh, Skye, we won’t blame you for secretly eating cookies behind our backs. If you get the chance, you should try the cookies my grandmother makes."

"Mm, they’re delicious." Fitz nodded in agreement. "When S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy started, she brought a huge box of cookies. And a whole pile of tea bags. A proper Brit."

"If we can identify this compound—maybe some special tea polyphenol—I won’t have to spend time drinking tea anymore." Simmons smiled at Skye, then lowered her head and continued working amid the pile of chemicals.

Skye licked her lips again. Mm, sweet, with lots of sugar. Just her kind of taste. She was not satisfied with Simmons’s explanation. There were simply too many suspicious points in this matter—she had always looked forward to the life of an agent, but if strange things could happen at any moment in daily life, then this profession was far too awful.

And why had she instinctively thought of Bear’s cookies when she stuffed the crumbs into her mouth? That was way too strange, wasn’t it?

But those questions were quickly washed away by the excitement of participating in an official mission for the first time. She naturally put on the sunglasses she had supposedly bought earlier, looked around through the dark lenses, and made a few cool-looking agent gestures and hand signals she had just seen in the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy field guide. Perhaps Agent Grant Ward did not care whether she could fight, but Skye was still very interested in going out on missions.

Wait, sunglasses? When did I buy sunglasses? Skye hurriedly took them off for a look, then rummaged through her jeans pocket and pulled out a crumpled store receipt.

When had I ever been to New York?

"May?" Agent Coulson approached Agent Melinda May, who was piloting the Airbus, with a form in hand. "After this mission is over, there’s somewhere we need to go."

"Where?"

"New York. We need to visit someone."

At the center of all these strange happenings, Salomon calmly drank black tea and pushed the cookies toward his guest. However, the visitors to this apartment had changed. This guest was in rather poor condition. The Arcanist had rescued him from the rug in the entryway. Had Salomon come out one moment later, this visitor would have suffocated inside the rug, and the Artificial Human would have stabbed him as well.

Nick Fury wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked the relaxed Arcanist sitting across from him, "How did it go?"

Being trapped in the rug earlier had been an extremely unpleasant experience—hot, cramped, and the rug had nearly crushed his ribs and twisted his spine apart. Even so, he had no intention of taking off his black leather trench coat—this was high-tech body armor, and the clothes beneath it were body armor too.

"Do you really care that much about Coulson’s team? Where were you hiding when they came to visit? Upstairs, or around the stairwell landing? I thought you had pulled back those surveillance agents. Apparently, another agent now knows my information."

"Do you remember what you said? Agent Coulson would save the world. I think the time has come. Agent Coulson is a man who does not exist. Few people know he was resurrected, and even fewer know about GH325." Nick Fury spoke with unmistakable pride. "I need Coulson to help me investigate the force within S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents below Level 8 clearance cannot know about him. As an agent hidden this deeply, only this kind of work can make full use of him. He can save S.H.I.E.L.D., and S.H.I.E.L.D. can save the world—that is what your vague prophecy meant."

"But that still doesn’t explain why you gave him my address."

"Because I already paid for your help, Salomon." Nick Fury pointed at his single eye. "Don’t tell me you didn’t take the money. I don’t know why you suddenly need mundane currency, but isn’t it perfectly normal for me to spend hundreds of millions of dollars to buy your help?"

"That is an insult to my character."

"Is it? Then please tell me, who else in this world puts a broom beneath their backside and flies into the sky?"

"Perhaps some disobedient student at Hogwarts. I’ll find an owl and write a letter to ask for you. You should know Professor Dumbledore and I get along rather well…"

"Good God, Salomon! Do you want me to expose even more of your illegal activities?" The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. sneered. "Do you think I don’t know whose territory this neighborhood your apartment is in belongs to? Although S.H.I.E.L.D. is not low enough to mix with street gangs, getting some information isn’t particularly difficult."

"I didn’t take those gangsters’ lives." Salomon spread his hands, looking utterly innocent. "Who told them to keep thinking about harassing the residents of this building? Everyone here is from respectable families. Nothing like this had ever happened before. So I merely taught a few punks trying to sell drugs a lesson. It wasn’t a big deal."

"You didn’t kill them, true, but they’ll have to stay in the hospital for an entire year and pay enormous surgical bills. I really don’t understand why you did that. Why shatter their bones with bullets?"

"I couldn’t be bothered to use my fists. Besides, I wasn’t illegally carrying a firearm. Those guns belonged to them."

"Either way, Salomon," Nick Fury said, "I hope you will provide Agent Coulson with some assistance, especially if he accidentally comes into contact with something related to magic. In that field, you’re the only expert I know."

"You didn’t tell Stark and Captain Rogers about Coulson?"

"No, they can’t know about it yet… They’ll learn one day, but not now."

"Fine, but I have to tell you, I can’t do that—because they’ve already forgotten about coming here." The Arcanist blinked. "It’s a spell I learned recently. I’m still a little unpracticed when casting it, so they might forget some things they shouldn’t have forgotten."

"Goodbye, Nick Fury." Salomon sounded as though he were seeing him off.

Work’s over, QAQ. Please vote!