MARVEL: THOSE YEARS I WAS UNDERCOVER IN S.H.I.E.LD

In the early morning, the warm sunlight streamed through the blinds, scattering countless golden spots across the pristine white quilt.

The alarm clock buzzed relentlessly. A long, slender hand emerged from beneath the covers and silenced it with a swift press of the stop button.

"Ugh..."

Stretching lazily, a handsome young man sat up from the bed. His gaze swept around the room before he let out a quiet sigh, though a fleeting trace of regret flickered in his eyes.

Last night, he dreamt of home again.

By his count, it had been twelve years since he last returned.

Who would have thought?

The man whom S.H.I.E.L.D. regarded as one of Nick Fury's most trusted operatives—his true identity was actually an undercover agent from the Spear Bureau, planted deep within S.H.I.E.L.D.

Letting out a deep breath, he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

Facing the mirror, he studied his own reflection—youthful, sharp, and full of charm. Grimclaw pinched his cheek lightly before flashing a bright, confident smile.

Maintaining this image was crucial.

To Nick Fury and his colleagues at S.H.I.E.L.D., he was a cheerful, dependable presence—an ever-radiant force that warmed those around him like a small sun.

That was precisely why he was so well-liked within S.H.I.E.L.D.

More often than not, it allowed him to overhear valuable but supposedly "harmless" intel—intel that was, in truth, extremely useful to him.

This was the fundamental skill of any good undercover agent.

Of course, blending in too well and remaining entirely unnoticed had its own risks.

If that were the case, how could he ever gain access to the classified information that S.H.I.E.L.D. guarded so closely?

Grabbing his toothbrush, he squeezed some toothpaste and began brushing while his thoughts wandered back to the past.

He had arrived in this world as an infant, abandoned on an empty street.

How he ended up here remained a mystery, but fate had intervened in the form of Deathstrike, who happened to be driving home late at night.

At the time, Deathstrike was not yet the head of the Spear Bureau. He scoured the area for any sign of the child's parents, but after finding nothing, he realized the baby had been abandoned.

So, he took him in and raised him within the Spear Bureau.

Years passed in a blink.

By the time Grimclaw turned seven, something extraordinary happened—his system activated, granting him abilities.

First came teleportation.

Then fire manipulation.

And eventually, physical enhancements that far surpassed ordinary human limits.

Recognizing his potential, Deathstrike—now the Director of the Spear Bureau—made a critical decision. He would train Grimclaw in secret and embed him within S.H.I.E.L.D. as an undercover agent.

Surprised?

It shouldn't be.

Even within the Spear Bureau, S.H.I.E.L.D. had planted agents before. Decades ago, Peggy Carter herself embedded spies within their ranks—one of whom was once Steve Rogers' girlfriend.

This kind of maneuvering was routine.

After all, while both the Spear Bureau and S.H.I.E.L.D. operated with the goal of protecting the world, they remained deeply wary of each other.

Under normal circumstances, someone like Grimclaw—who stood out so starkly from the black-and-white framework of S.H.I.E.L.D.—would have never been fully trusted, let alone given any real responsibilities.

It was precisely for this reason that Deathstrike had waited until Grimclaw was ten before sending him in.

By doing so, S.H.I.E.L.D. would believe they had personally nurtured and trained him as their own asset.

Additionally, his remarkable abilities all but guaranteed that he would attract S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention.

And the best-case scenario?

Nick Fury himself would take him under his wing.

As unlikely as it seemed, that was exactly what happened.

Wasn't Melinda May's recruitment by Peggy Carter proof that such a thing was possible?

The only difference was that May had been recruited by Peggy Carter, while Grimclaw had been personally brought into S.H.I.E.L.D. by Nick Fury.

The official story was simple:

While traveling overseas with his "family," a sudden "accident" struck, wiping out his relatives. Amidst the chaos, his abilities "unexpectedly manifested," drawing the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D., who then took him in.

Of course, every detail of this tragic backstory had been meticulously orchestrated by Deathstrike.

Some might wonder—why embed such a powerful superhuman within S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of keeping him in the Spear Bureau?

The answer was simpler than one might think.

Contrary to popular belief, the Spear Bureau housed many superpowered individuals.

With its ranks swelling beyond 150,000 personnel, it had more than its fair share of enhanced operatives.

And those were just the documented ones.

There were still classified files, restricted to only Deathstrike and a handful of top-ranking officials, detailing the existence of even more powerful individuals.

But most importantly—when the Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division (S.W.O.R.D.) was established, shifting its focus beyond Earth, the Spear Bureau could no longer afford to remain passive.

"Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will never be defeated in battle."

This ancient wisdom had guided them well.

Especially with the emergence of the Skrulls.

That's right. The Skrulls had infiltrated both the Spear Bureau and S.H.I.E.L.D. for years. In fact, the Spear Bureau had established its control over a faction of Skrulls long before S.H.I.E.L.D. even caught wind of them.

Furthermore, past undercover agents sent into S.H.I.E.L.D. had never managed to access high-level intelligence before being discovered and expelled.

That was why Deathstrike had devised this plan—to ensure that S.H.I.E.L.D. truly believed Grimclaw was one of their own.

After finishing his morning routine, Grimclaw examined his reflection in the mirror and flashed another warm smile.

"Come on, Grimclaw. You're the best-looking guy here."

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the living room, he was greeted by the sight of Natasha Romanoff bringing breakfast from the kitchen.

At this moment, the Black Widow was at the peak of her beauty—her long, wine-red hair cascading over her shoulders, accentuating her sharp yet alluring features.

"You're supposed to be on vacation. Why are you back?"

Grimclaw put on his signature sunny smile as he watched her set the plates on the table.

Just to be clear, they weren't living together.

They were simply neighbors.

"Where did you pick up this habit of skipping breakfast? Don't tell me Nick Fury taught you that."

Rolling her eyes, Natasha sat down without hesitation, picked up her fork, and started eating.

Grimclaw chuckled. "What can I say? When you're on missions all the time, you get used to skipping meals."

Taking his seat, he casually grabbed a piece of toast from the plate in front of him.

No formalities were needed.

He, Natasha, and Clint Barton were Fury's hand-picked field agents.

They had fought side by side, saved each other's lives countless times, and survived against impossible odds.

Why would they need to be polite with each other?

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