#cyclops!nick

Chapters

Grafting a Dream: Andy/Prologue, Part 1

The Company We Keep: Andy/Prologue, Part 2

The First Hunt: Ari, Part 1

Marked: Ari, Part 2

Prey: Ari, Part 3

Into The Wilds: Ari, Part 4

Polls

First Story? Ransom, Lloyd & Fowler, Ari, or Jake?

Uh...how many words is too many words?

Shenanigans

The nickname rolled off his tongue like it had always been there. You gave him a weak smile, grateful. Andy’s arms came around you from behind—slow and solid. He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head.

“Hey,” he murmured. “She’s my Sunshine.”

Lloyd raised his hands in mock surrender. “Borrowing. With affection.”

Andy huffed a quiet laugh and kissed the side of your head. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t…” He gave a slow shrug you could feel against your back. “They’ll learn.”

You let yourself lean into him. The nervous buzz was still there, but now it had warmth braided through it.

The library they were building stood nearby—half-finished, magic humming in the walls. You’d helped organize what little had been shelved already, your handwriting now mixed with Andy’s on the cataloging tags. It wasn’t finished, and neither were you. But this place, this life—it fit. In some ways, it had felt so fast—and in others, you couldn’t remember life before all this.

You and Andy had gone over everything in the weeks since.

He hadn’t rushed you. You’d walked through it together—your job, your apartment, your bank account—your old life. What to keep. What to let go. You’d tried to explain the feeling and found your voice catching, oddly solid despite the weight of it all. “I thought it would feel like grief,” you’d said. “But it feels like pruning. I’m genuinely relieved.”

Andy had looked at you then, expression unreadable for a beat. Then he nodded, slow and proud.

“Some of it I tossed without thinking,” you added. “But... my family. That’s different.” You glanced down at your hands.  “I don’t need to be in their daily lives. I choose this life. I choose you. I just... I don’t want to disappear on them. Maybe I could send a letter sometimes? And I want them to know you. Maybe we could attend weddings and milestones? Send holiday cards, even?”

He held you closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I’d love to know your family. If nothing else, I want them to know how cherished you are—even if they can’t know the details.” He shifted slightly, thoughtful.  “It’s not impossible,” he said. “But it is complicated.” Then a pause. A faint smile. “If anyone could figure it out, though,” Andy murmured, “it’d be Jake. Sounds like the kind of challenge he’d enjoy.”

You nodded, even though Jake didn’t know you existed yet. No one did—not really. Not outside this orchard and the half-built library at your back. But they would. Soon. And when they did, you wanted them to know you’d chosen Andy. You’d chosen Themorea. And you loved it. Even if you still wanted to send your family Christmas cards.

———

Andy’s request for a Concord—an official meeting of The Circle and The Circle only—had been acknowledged three days ago. Now, it was time.

He walked beside you through the winding paths of the Agora, his cloak heavy across your shoulders, the hood pulled low. Your heart beat a little faster with each step. The shops and passageways of the central square bustled around you, but no one gave you a second glance.

If only they knew a human walked among them.

The Council Hall rose ahead, gleaming in the mid-morning sun. Unlike the surrounding structures, which pulsed gently with the organic magic of their respective provinces, the Council Hall was clean stone and a weathered copper dome. The columns bore no crests, only the etched lines of the Circle’s sigil over the arched entry—accorded neutral ground.

“This is where we gather with the seconds,” Andy said quietly as you climbed the steps beside him. “Concords are only for The Circle and are held in The Ring. They’ll wait here until the Concord ends. They usually handle a lot of the unofficial discussions while we’re in session. Truth be told, we rarely call Concords—most meetings happen here with our seconds present.”

You nodded beneath the hood, unsure if you were relieved or disappointed not to meet them yet.

Inside, the Council Hall was quiet—almost reverent. Long stone benches lined the outer chamber where any observers would sit. At the center stood a wide circular table, and off to the side the portal gate to The Ring sat on an elevated platform of silver-veined marble, carved with the sigils of each region.

Your eyes traced the inlaid symbols and their slow, rhythmic glow. Your throat tightened.

Andy turned to face you, lifting a hand to gently adjust the hood over your forehead.

“Once we step through,” he said, “we’ll be in The Ring. They’ll come in after us, one by one. They’ll expect something—but not you. Not this.”

You exhaled slowly. “And when they realize?”

“They’ll see what I see.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Eventually.”

You searched his face, trying to pull courage from it. Andy’s hand brushed your cheek, grounding.

“They’ll hear us out in The Ring,” he said. “That’s the law. They can be surprised. They can be angry. But they will listen. And they will understand.”

“I hope so,” you murmured.

“They’ll love you, given time. And don’t forget—you already have friends in there. Lloyd and Fowler will be with us.”

He hesitated a beat, then offered his hand. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s show them.”

———

You stepped onto the platform with him. The sigils flared bright. Light swelled. And together, you vanished into the heart of Themorea.

Light receded, revealing a garden framed by crystal and stone. The Ring shimmered around you—vast, echoing. Geode walls arched high overhead, faint glints of amethyst catching the drift of floating lights near the ceiling.

Other portals ringed the space.

“Those are our private gates to The Ring,” Andy murmured, following your gaze. “That one’s mine,” he added, nodding toward a portal flanked by two flowering trees. “We rarely use them—only in emergencies. It’s considered rude not to be seen arriving through the main gate. An old-world courtesy, but it's stayed with us.”

You nodded, absorbing each detail.

At the center of the Ring stood a circular open-air pavilion of smooth opal columns crowned with a jade roof. A single, massive table of burled olivewood anchored the space, surrounded by mismatched chairs, each one unmistakably tailored to the ruler it belonged to.

Andy led you toward the table, his hand loosely holding yours beneath the cloak. At the edge, he paused. With one gentle sweep, he pulled the fabric more fully around you, veiling your features as you tucked behind him. He glanced down at you, quiet reassurance in his eyes, then turned to face the center of the space and waited.

———

The main portal flared once. Then again. And again. One by one, the others arrived.

Maria. Ari. Jake. Natasha. Curtis. Steve and Bucky. Ransom. Lloyd and Fowler came last, unreadable as they slipped into their usual seats with nods of greeting.

Their gazes swept the Ring—and Andy—but no one seemed to notice you tucked at his back. Once everyone was seated, Natasha started: “You called for a Concord.” Her tone was cool, probing. “That’s rare.”

“It is,” Andy replied. “But warranted.”

He didn’t elaborate. Not yet.

Ari studied him. “You’ve been quiet since returning from the mortal realm.”

“Noticeably missing,” Natasha added, arms folding.

“So what is it?” Curtis asked, calm but direct.

Maria’s eyes narrowed speaking before Andy could answer. “I received a report—of a human woman in the Grove.” She looked directly at Andy. “Is that what this is about?”

Heads turned. Andy didn’t flinch.

“Andy,” Steve said, uncertain. “You didn’t—”

“You brought a human here?” Natasha cut in, sharper now. “Is she—do you mean to keep her here?”

“She’s not some souvenir,” Andy said evenly, annoyed at being derailed so quickly. “She is my mate. My companion. And she will rule the Grove by my side." He paused before adding, "Forever.”

The words landed like stone in still water. Ripples of disbelief moved around the table.

You could feel the shift—the tension, the judgment, the weight of every gaze you hadn’t yet met. Andy straightened, voice low but unshakable. “She’s here, you know. She hears you.”

Silence fell harder. Then—all eyes turned to you.

Heart hammering, you stepped forward, easing the hood back. You gave a small, nervous wave. “Hi.”

Another beat of stunned quiet.

“You actually brought her here?” Ransom blinked, incredulous.

“I told you,” Andy said, placing a steadying hand at your lower back. “She’s not an accessory. She’s mine. This isn’t temporary. This isn’t a game. And if any of you speak about her like she isn’t standing here again…” His voice edged lower. “We’ll be having a very different kind of Concord.”

Tension tightened and Natasha’s gaze sharpened. “The pact is maintained?”

The words meant something to everyone in the room except you.

Andy’s reply was steady. “We’ll need time before that.”

A pause.

Maria leaned forward, exhaling. “A good sign,” she murmured. “He hasn’t lost all sense.” Her eyes flicked to you. “Maybe he didn’t lose it at all.”

That broke the stillness. A few quiet nods followed—cautious, but no longer hostile.

Then the scrape of a chair. Natasha stood.

“I would speak with her,” she said, voice clear and firm. “Alone.”

She turned to you—not cruel, but not optional either.

“Please follow me.”

You glanced up at Andy.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You're not in trouble.”

Still, your legs felt shaky as you stepped toward her. Natasha led the way, guiding you back through the portal. The Ring vanished behind you.

A graceful woman with features similar to Natasha's visibly startled at Natasha’s sudden reappearance in the Council Hall. Her gaze landed on you, assessing—curious.

Without a word, she fell into step behind you as Natasha led you down a quiet corridor and opened the door to a small side chamber.

Inside, the air was calm. Soft chairs circled a low table. The woman moved with quiet efficiency preparing tea while Natasha gestured for you to sit.

You sat. Waiting. Ready, or at least trying to be.

———

As the portal shimmered closed behind Natasha and Sunshine, a taut silence lingered. Andy didn’t move.

“She’s mortal,” Maria said at last. “You know what that means.”

“I do.” His voice was steady but raw. “And I tried. Gods, I tried not to feel it. I left the realm. I ran halfway across the world. I didn’t go looking for her.” He glanced around the table, jaw tightening. “I fought it. Weeks of silence, distance, rationalizing. I told myself I wasn’t feeling what I was feeling—that it wasn’t real.” His gaze lifted. “But it is. She’s mine. And I’m hers. I won’t run from that.”

“Even knowing what she’ll lose?” Bucky asked quietly.

Andy didn’t flinch. “She knows. And she’s still here.”

Curtis leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, studying Andy. Silent. Unreadable.

Lloyd whistled low. “Andy’s not reckless,” he said. “He wouldn’t be standing here unless he was damn sure.”

“She’s unexpected,” Fowler added, languid in his coil, chin resting in one hand. “But maybe that’s the point. When has fate ever brought us what we expect?”

Ransom snorted, expression dry. “True. It’s always the unexpected ones that shift the tides.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “If she truly understands the cost and still chooses Andy…. She might actually belong here.”

Steve hadn’t spoken, but now shifted forward slightly, elbows on the table. “I don’t like surprises,” he said. “But I know your word, Andy. If you say this is right—” He gave a short nod. “Then I’ll listen.”

Curtis stayed still, watching from behind folded arms. “You’ve always held the line,” he said simply. “No one questions your loyalty to Themorea or to The Circle. But this will change everything.”

From his side of the table, Bucky gave a low hum of agreement.

Ari’s fingers tapped the arm of his chair—slow, deliberate. “This path you’re starting—it’s not built for her kind. It won’t be easy.” Then, after a beat, he added, “But if anyone can walk it with her… it’s probably you.”

Andy inclined his head in silent thanks.

Jake gave a short chuff, feathers rustling as he tilted his head, sharp eyes glinting. “You said she knows what she’s giving up. But have you two considered what she doesn’t have to lose?” His fingers flexed against the table as he glanced around the Ring. “There are ways. Pathways. We’re not without options.”

Andy took a slow breath. “We’ve been thinking about that. About the long road ahead. We had some ideas… but they’ll need refinement. And infrastructure.” He met Jake’s eyes. “If anyone could find a way, it’s you.”

Jake raised a brow, amusement flickering. “Well. That does sound like my kind of problem.”

Around the table, a few glances were exchanged. The air, though still wary, had softened.

Andy turned back to the group. “I brought her here to The Ring before you all because she’s my future. I won’t be parted from her.”

Maria finally leaned back, exhaling through her nose. “No one wants to lose you. We’ll see what Natasha says.”

———

Natasha settled opposite you. “This is Yelena,” she said simply. “My second.”

Yelena nodded once, setting a delicate cup in front of you before taking a seat at Natasha’s side. Her eyes—unlike Natasha’s—gave more away: keen, alert, kind.

The questions began. Not rapid-fire. Not aggressive. Just... precise.

How did you meet Andy?

When did things shift between you?

What did he say when he told you the truth?

How did he treat you?

Do you have your own space?

Do you freely move around his estate?

It wasn’t an interrogation—but it wasn’t small talk either. At first, you answered plainly. Honestly. You told them about the kind man who tried to soften a horrible day. How he saw you when you felt invisible. How he made space for you—gently, steadily—and how it ached when he tried to stay away. How you’d never felt so drawn to someone.

But something in Natasha’s eyes made you pause.

She wasn’t looking at you. Not entirely. She was watching for something—listening between the lines. And suddenly, you understood.

This wasn’t about you. It was about him.

Not whether you were good enough. Whether he was safe enough.

They weren’t trying to measure your worth. They were trying to protect you from the possibility that this was something else—something darker. Grooming. Manipulation. Imbalance cloaked as fate. And you realized—they weren’t judging you. They were trying to save you.

The realization strengthened your resolve. You didn’t try to impress them after that. You focused on truth. Reassurance. You told them that you hadn’t gone looking for Andy either—but now that you found him, you wouldn’t let him go. That your world had settled around him before you had words for what it was. That love had never felt like home until him.

No flowery language. No grand declarations. Just one truth, grounded and steady: “I’ve never felt so cherished or safe. I want to give him the same. He’s my everything.”

You hoped that simple truth shone in your eyes. Then held their gaze and waited.

After a fraught moment Yelena leaned back in her seat, one brow lifting slightly. “I like this one,” she said, her voice quiet but certain.

You weren’t sure if it was approval or solidarity, but it felt like both.

Natasha’s gaze stayed steady a moment longer. Then she nodded, slow and thoughtful. “Me, too,” she smirked.

She reached for her own teacup, movements graceful but purposeful. “We’ll talk logistics soon. There will be things to consider—protections, expectations, adjustments.” Her tone shifted, less testing now. More grounded. “But if what you feel is real, then we’ll find a way.”

Yelena gave a small, satisfied hum beside her. And for the first time since stepping into the unknown, you felt something loosening in your chest. You were welcome here.

The air softened after that. Natasha asked fewer questions, and Yelena—who’d quietly claimed a second cup of tea—chimed in now and then with dry, unexpected humor. You found yourself relaxing by degrees.

They asked about your background, your hobbies, how you’d handled discovering a world you never knew existed. The conversation meandered with gentle curiosity, not inspection. It was very… easy.

When Natasha finally set her empty cup down with a quiet clink, she studied the delicate swirl of leaves at the bottom. “That should be enough time,” she murmured.

You blinked. “Enough time?”

Her mouth curved with a hint of mischief you wouldn't have assumed possible from her. “For Andy to convince the others, of course.”

Your breath caught. “He’s—They’re—” You weren't sure what you wanted to say exactly but the two gorgons understood all the same.

“Oh yes,” Yelena said breezily. “They’re probably all brooding about it together. Lots of meaningful silences and dramatic nods.”

You laughed despite your rising panic, but Natasha only gave a quiet, almost fond sigh. “I’ve known my friend a long time,” she said. “I trust that he’s fighting for you. I just had to be sure he wasn’t injuring himself—or you—in the process.” That truth settled over you like a warm blanket. You weren’t here because they doubted you. You were here because someone loved Andy enough to make sure he was okay, even in his joy. And somehow, that made you feel even safer.

“Come. Let's get the issue settled.” Natasha said standing. She shared a look with Yelena who nodded and headed out the door back to the other seconds. Natasha led you back to The Ring.

———

You and Natasha stepped through the portal together, her expression playful while you were clearly at ease. The Circle looked up.

Andy stood immediately, his eyes locking on yours. A breath he hadn’t realized he was holding eased out of him.

Natasha returned to her chair as you returned to Andy's side. She faced the others and said, simply: “My new friend is lovely. I'm looking forward to getting to know her better.”

The meaning wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t a verdict—it was a statement of alignment. Natasha wasn’t just approving you. She was joining Andy’s side. She turned to him, her voice softer now. “I’m very happy for you.”

“We all are in our own ways,” Lloyd added quickly, keeping the positive momentum going.

"It goes without saying, really,” Fowler followed smoothly.

You smiled. You saw right through those two and appreciated it all the same.

A quiet hum of approval rippled through the room.

Jake was surprisingly the first to speak. “Cool. This is actually a good transition into something I wanted to bring before the Council today. I know I didn’t send out an addendum—it’s last minute.”

He waited for a few nods.

“Pronge is still looking into Andy. He’s even managed to track down a few of our vendors.”

A murmur of discontent stirred, but Jake held up a hand. “Relax. He’s not a threat. Just... annoying.”

Andy muttered, exasperated, “He thinks I’m running a damn mafia.”

The others stilled—

Maria spoke first. “...Could we?”

Jake grinned. “I kinda get it. Dark money, shadow networks, unexplained disappearances.” He waggled his eyebrows at you at that part and you laughed. “And the best part? He already believes it. We give him the story he wants, he stops digging. We stay clean.”

Ransom actually laughed. “We are unreasonably attractive and well-dressed. Feels on brand.”

“Oh, I like this,” Lloyd offered, leaning forward. “No one wants to poke the mob too hard. They're more likely to assume you’re corrupt than immortal.”

Steve frowned. “We can’t let them think we’re criminals. If we’re seriously considering more contact with the mortal world, we need clean fronts. Reputable channels.” He paused. “Pronge may be the sleaziest of our contacts but our business with him was still above board. If we even pretend to dirty our hands now, it’ll cost us later.”

Silence followed. No one refuted Steve—but no one seemed sure where that left them.

You broke the silence.

“Then… give him what he expects. Legit business. Clean records. A team of very polished executives…” you gestured to the room, “…who just happen to have a hint of something darker behind the scenes.”

You fought down a giggle—it was your favorite kind of fantasy: mafia meets billionaire CEO.

No one noticed the mischief in your eyes except Andy. He raised an eyebrow and squeezed your thigh under the table, but said nothing.

Jake perked up. “Oooo, dramatic. A corporation with whispers. The kind of brand that makes government men lean away.”

Fowler tilted his head toward you. “She gets it.”

Andy sighed, smiling despite himself. “And now they’re the problem.”

Lloyd grinned. “Oh, she gets it.”

You, Maria, Natasha, and Ransom all laughed. Even the others cracked smiles.

Curtis raised his hand slightly. “Before you all get carried away with Jake and Andy’s new project—may I suggest we close this Concord?” His eyes met yours. “Its original purpose is clearly resolved. Welcome.”

You nodded, warmth spreading in your chest.

Curtis returned to addressing the room. “Whatever front we use, I think we should council with our seconds.”

“Agreed,” Maria said immediately. “Shall we?”

One by one, they began making their way back toward the Council Hall.

———

Yelena had already gathered the others.

Cole—a Satyr and Andy’s second—was the first to approach, slipping easily to your side with the casual grace of someone already considering you family.

“I take it went well?” he asked, voice pitched low and friendly. “I’ve been nervous. Not everyone appreciates these kinds of grand gestures.”

You smiled at him, touched, but Andy answered before you could.

“It went very well,” he said. “I’ll explain everything in Council.”

He guided you gently forward, where the others were gathering around the central table. The seconds found their places with practiced ease—some quiet, some curious, all assessing. Andy remained standing.

“The formal Concord is concluded,” he said, voice carrying easily through the space. “This is now a working session. We need input. And we need alignment.”

A few nods met his words. No one objected.

Andy glanced around the table before continuing. “Some of you know already, but for the rest—this is my partner. She’s the reason I called the Concord.”

His voice softened as he offered your name. No one missed the weight the shift carried. Reactions varied from surprise to amusement.

“I’ve chosen her. She’s chosen me. And after speaking with The Circle we’re moving forward. Together.”

There were no interruptions, only measured silence.

Andy moved on, his tone sharpening. “While that remains personal, it connects to something larger. Jake raised an issue just before we adjourned: Pronge.”

That earned a collective groan from a few of the seconds.

Jake gave a short shrug, feathered brow raised, about to elaborate when Lloyd cut in: “Before we get into that, why don't you all introduce yourselves to Sunshine here.”

“Sunshine?” an ethereal being with a flanged voice next to Jake asked.

“It’s what we call Andy’s darling mate,” Fowler offered smirking.

“Ah, I see. Greetings, Sunshine. I am ELARA, Lord Jake's second—Sentinel of the Aerie.”

Jake beamed. “ELARA: Executive Logic and Adaptive Response Assistant. Most brilliant construct you’ll ever meet.”

ELARA nodded politely.

A cyclops sitting next to Maria leaned forward. “I’m glad to finally have a good look at you. You’re even lovelier up close. I’m Nick, Warden of the Anvil—second to Lady Maria.”

Andy raised an eyebrow and turned to Maria. “Report, huh?” She shrugged without apology.

Yelena was next. “You know I’m Natasha’s second, but my formal title is Steward of the Red Redoubt. We're going to be good friends. I can tell.”

A man with a warm smile seated beside Steve gave a small wave. “I’m Sam—Skywarden of the Reach.” He gestured to Steve and Bucky, “Second to these two.” He then patted the bird at ease on his shoulder. “And this is Redwing, Falcon of the Reach.”

The bird puffed up with pride and chirped once. “Flirt,” Sam muttered. You smiled.

A pale man with an easy manner offered a nod. “I’m Benoit, milady.” He greeted in an accent hinting at something not quite American South to your ear. “Ransom’s second—Harbormaster of the Drift. It’s a pleasure.”

A regal figure with antlers gave a dignified incline of his head. “I am Thranduil, Seneschal of the Wilds. I serve Lord Ari.”

A tall, imposing woman followed with a nod. “Val. Chatelaine of the Hollow, second to Lord Curtis.”

And finally—

“Gant,” said the last man, giving you a little salute. “Chamberlain of the Veil. Second to these two snakes.” He winked as he pointed a thumb at Lloyd and Fowler.

———

Once the greetings had passed, Jake refocused the room.

“Pronge’s still digging—into Andy, into our vendors, our activity trails.”

“I’m fairly certain he thinks I’m mafia,” Andy muttered, still annoyed.

That got a few smirks.

“We all agreed we can’t risk exposure,” Andy continued. “But we also can’t ignore the world we came from—especially if we plan to maintain any contact, no matter how quiet or careful.”

Gant nodded, arms folded loosely across his chest. “You want a front.”

“A clean one,” Steve added. “If we’re doing this, we do it right.”

“Public enough to explain our presence,” Natasha said. “But private enough to disappear when needed.”

Jake leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “A sleek brand. Executive types. Whispers of shadow networks, but nothing provable.”

Thranduil hummed. “Bespoke secrecy. It’s elegant.”

“That’s where we’re leaning,” Andy said, glancing toward you just briefly. “And I’d like you all involved. If this front is going to work, it needs legitimacy. Structure. And the appearance of something human.”

Val nodded, considering. “Shell corporation?”

“Something like that,” Andy replied. “A multinational. Quiet. Nimble. With enough red tape to keep nosy contractors confused for years.”

Jake grinned. “Sounds like we’re going corporate.”

Maria sighed but didn’t argue. “Then we’d best get to work.”

———

Groups broke off. Notes were exchanged. Maria already had a framework in motion. ELARA projected layered data strings, shifting with each input. Andy stood quietly beside you, but you could feel his shoulders had eased. The path ahead wasn’t clear, but it was forming.

Eventually, someone—maybe Ransom, maybe Curtis—murmured the name that stuck.

The Morea Group.

“Isn’t that too obvious?” Natasha worried.

Yelena pondered. “It could muddy the waters if anyone somehow gets real information. Plus, you have to admit—it’s hilarious.”

Bucky approved with a quiet nod. Jake, who you were realizing was a bit of a troll, was practically glowing.

With the name agreed upon Lloyd spoke again, cutting across the murmur.

“All right,” he said, tipping back slightly in his chair. “If we’re playing the long con, I have a requirement.”

“Oh gods,” Natasha muttered.

Lloyd grinned. “We need codenames. Something cool. Something ominous.”  

Natasha didn’t even look up. “No.”

Fowler chuckled. “Let him have this.”

“I’m just saying,” Lloyd continued, completely unbothered, “if we’re all going to be high-powered shadow execs fronting a vaguely sinister multinational—”

“A legitimate consultancy,” Steve interrupted.

“—we should at least have codenames,” Lloyd finished, unrepentant. “Stylish ones.”

Ransom gave a soft snort. “You already have one in mind. Let's hear it.”

“Mr. Lloyd Handsom.”

The collective groan was impressive.

“What?” Lloyd said, mock wounded.

“Let’s go with Mr. Lloyd Hansen. Still insufferable, less suspicious," Jake countered.

“Barely,” Gant muttered, smiling

“I’ll allow it.” Lloyd answered at the same time.

Curtis murmured, “Children.”

ELARA chimed in without missing a beat. “Assigning internal identifiers could assist with compartmentalization and communication protocols. Though I suggest numerical pairings.”

“Buzzkill,” Jake muttered. “I vote Buzzkill as ELARA’s codename.”

“I do not require a codename,” ELARA replied dryly. “I am already classified.”

“I’m already known as Mr. Andy Barber,” Andy said, finally stepping in with a grin tugging at his mouth, “No point in changing it.”

Fowler immediately jumped in on the fun gesturing to Nick. “I’m stealing your name. I think Mr. Nick Fowler has a nice bite to it. We need a good looking Nick.”

Nick was completely unbothered. “If I ever get sent out, I’m going as Mr. Nick Fury.” He eyed Maria. “Just to annoy Maria.” Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.” He laughed teasing her further,  “Oh, I absolutely would. It’s a strong brand. I’ll wear the eyepatch and everything.”

Gant laughed. “Love it. I’ll follow my lord's lead. We do need a good looking Nick, so I’ll be Mr. Nick Gant if I’m ever called on.”

Yelena snorted. “You lot are menaces.”

Natasha was smiling, “As long as the illusion holds, I don’t care what they call themselves.”

Curtis leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, voice calm but firm. “This is a solid foundation. But it’s still just theory and details.”

Ari, ever the blunt one, nodded once. “It doesn't actually mean much if we can't get it up and running.”

The shift was immediate. ELARA’s projections stilled. Jake’s posture straightened. Natasha’s eyes narrowed, already calculating next steps.

Maria was the first to speak. “I have half a dozen leads that need scrubbing before we make any move. If we’re serious about operating in the human realm, we’ll need clean contacts.”

Nick was already adding notes to a faintly glowing scroll. “I’ll handle our back-end metadata, make sure The Morea Group looks boring enough to avoid real scrutiny.”

“We can’t all go,” Steve said. “And we can’t send the wrong mix—too strange, too magical, too memorable.”

“We need a team that can blend,” Natasha added, “but still carry weight if it comes to that.”

Jake was already rising. “I’ll go.”

Andy lifted his head. “You sure?”

Jake’s smile was razor-sharp. “Please. You think I’ve never run a covert human-side operation before? I built ELARA in a garage in Atlanta.”

“You also nearly blew up said garage,” ELARA said mildly.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Jake muttered, but he was already gathering things. “Someone needs to establish the system—lay the foundation. Talk to contacts. We’ll need infrastructure, digital pathways, real-world logistics.”

Fowler leaned toward Lloyd, voice quiet but firm. “One of us should go, and you match Jake's energy better. ”

Lloyd arched a brow. “Tempting.”

“You blend in,” Fowler continued. “Too well. And no one sees you coming when you’re smiling.” They shared a look that was more than a look.

The room went still for a beat.

“I’ll go,” Lloyd said, slowly stretching to his full height. He straightened his cuffs, voice dry. “Can’t have Jake doing something brilliant and accidentally starting a war.”

Jake grinned. “You love it when I start things.”

“And I love it more when I finish them,” Lloyd returned.

“I’ll go with them,” Ari sighed, rising with quiet finality. Thranduil did a double take, studying his lord. “We need someone who can track. And protect.” Ari's gaze flicked briefly to you, then to Andy. “If she’s connected to the mortal world, so are we.”

Andy gave a single, grateful nod. He didn’t say thank you. He didn’t have to.

Thranduil nodded.

Curtis glanced at the group and gave a soft grunt of approval. “That’s a strong trio.”

“Agreed,” Maria said. “But move quietly. And don’t start anything unless you’re ready to finish it.”

“Would we ever?” Lloyd grinned.

“Yes,” came multiple voices in unison.

Lloyd didn’t argue.

“Have fun babysitting, Ari.” Nick teased.

Jake laughed and pulled up a map overlay from ELARA’s systems and tapped a glowing dot. “We’ll start here. Pronge has a trail and I have a few old threads we can pull. If we do this right, we won't just throw him off. We’ll use him.”

“Use him how?” you asked softly.

Jake smiled. “As a megaphone.”

Ari’s mouth curved into something almost approving and entirely predatory.

Natasha raised her drink in mock toast. “To subtlety.”