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The room went silent. The term "Kree" hung in the air like a guillotine blade.
"Little Hermione..." Coulson's voice trembled. "Could it be...?"
Hermione nodded slowly, her expression flat. "Yes, Phil. They're aliens. Blue ones."
Alien.
This word struck everyone like a heavy hammer blow. After New York, the world knew about the Chitauri. But learning that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been secretly harvesting alien biology to resurrect their agents? That was a different kind of horror.
Coulson stood frozen, as if struck by lightning. He had considered countless possibilities—cybernetics, clones, voodoo—but he never imagined his second life was gifted by Kree blood.
"No wonder Fury kept it a secret," Coulson murmured, bitterness seeping into his tone. "Injecting alien genetic material into human agents... that violates every ethical code we have."
Garrett, standing in the back, narrowed his eyes. Kree blood, he thought. That's the key. That's the miracle.
Later. The Bus Lounge.
Garrett and Triplett had departed, taking Ian Quinn to the Fridge (or so they claimed). The team was decompressing.
Coulson found Hermione alone in the lounge, staring out the window at the clouds.
"Hermione," Coulson said sincerely, sitting opposite her. "Thank you. If you hadn't arrived in time, Skye might have ended up like me. A guinea pig for Project T.A.H.I.T.I."
He rubbed his chest. "I don't know the long-term effects. I feel... different. I didn't want that for her."
"Oh, that," Hermione said casually, waving a hand. "You don't need to worry. Even if you had given her the GH-325 serum, there wouldn't have been any negative side effects. She wouldn't go crazy like you did."
Coulson blinked. "Why?"
He pressed for an answer. The scribbles on the wall, the compulsion to draw alien maps—it was driving him mad. Why would Skye be immune?
"Nothing special," Hermione said slowly, turning to look at him. "It's just that I noticed something while I was treating her. Her DNA... it sang when I healed it."
Coulson's heart leaped into his throat. "What do you mean?"
Hermione's gaze was calm, all-knowing.
"Skye... she's not from Earth, Phil."
"Or rather," Hermione corrected, "not entirely Earthling."
"WHAT?!"
Coulson's voice rose an octave. "Skye is an alien? No way! She looks exactly like a human! She has a belly button! She eats junk food!"
"Skye has alien markers in her genome," Hermione stated factually. "She is compatible with Kree biology because she is part Kree. Or rather, she is a product of Kree genetic engineering."
Coulson slumped back. Although his rational mind rejected it, he knew Hermione didn't lie about magic or biology.
"Does she know?" Coulson asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Not yet."
Clack.
A slight noise came from the doorway.
They turned. Skye stood there, gripping the doorframe. Her face was as pale as paper. Her body trembled.
She had heard everything.
"...Now I know," Hermione shrugged.
Coulson: "..."
"Hermione... Coulson..." Skye's voice was barely a whisper. "What were you just saying? Were you joking? Is this... is this Hazing Day?"
Coulson stood up, reaching out. "Skye..."
Hermione cut in, her voice firm. "I'm not kidding, Skye. To be precise, you are an Inhuman."
Skye took a shaky breath. "Inhumans? What does that even mean?"
Hermione explained, her voice turning into a lecture mode.
"Thousands of years ago, the Kree Empire came to Earth. They experimented on early humans, splicing Kree DNA into the human genome to create weapons—super-soldiers to fight their wars."
"The Kree eventually abandoned the project and left, but the test subjects survived. They reproduced."
"Their descendants are the Inhumans. They look normal. They live among us. But inside their genetic code lies a dormant power. When exposed to a specific catalyst—Terrigen Mist—they awaken. They change."
Skye listened blankly. It sounded like a sci-fi movie. It sounded like madness.
But then, her hacker brain connected the dots.
The 0-8-4 designation. The way I was moved around. The way S.H.I.E.L.D. erased my history.
Skye looked up, a glint of desperate hope in her eyes.
"Wait... you said Inhumans rely on reproduction... so my parents..."
Hermione nodded. "That's right. At least one of your parents was an Inhuman. Probably your mother."
Skye's eyes shone with tears. After years of searching, of hitting dead ends and redacted files, she finally had a lead. She wasn't just a mistake. She was a species.
"My parents..." she whispered.
Hermione watched her, a pang of pity in her heart.
Poor Skye, Hermione thought. She has no idea what kind of horror show she is chasing.
Hermione knew the files. She knew the truth.
Skye's life was a Greek tragedy written by a sadist.
A Mad Father: Calvin Zabo, a doctor driven insane by grief, experimenting on himself until he became the monstrous Mr. Hyde.
A Perverted Mother: Jiaying, dismembered by Hydra, stitched back together by her husband, surviving only by draining the life force of others. A woman so broken she would eventually try to kill her own daughter.
An Undercover Boyfriend: Grant Ward, the man Skye was falling for, was a Hydra sleeper agent who would betray them all.
And a Broken Her: Skye herself, destined to shatter the world.
It was a mess.
Skye took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. "The Inhumans... where do they live? Can I find them?"
Hermione shook her head. "They hide, Skye. For good reason. They are not like wizards; they don't have a government. They have secluded colonies. 'Afterlife' is one of them. But be careful what you look for."
Skye fell silent, then smiled weakly. "Thank you, Hermione. For telling me the truth."
Hermione shrugged. Then, she paused. An idea formed.
If Skye was inevitable... why not accelerate it? Why let her be weak when Ward turns?
"Do you..." Hermione asked suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "...want to have superpowers?"
Two Days Later. A Secluded Field.
Hermione stood before Skye, holding a metal briefcase. Inside was the Obelisk—the Diviner—which she had "borrowed" (stolen) from a S.H.I.E.L.D. archive using the Imperius Curse on a guard.
"This is it," Hermione said. "Touch it."
Skye hesitated, then reached out. The metal didn't turn her to stone. It glowed.
CRACK.
Terrigenesis.
The cocoon formed. The cocoon broke.
Skye emerged. She felt the vibrations of the universe. She felt the frequency of the earth.
She held out her hand.
BOOM.
A shockwave erupted, shattering a boulder fifty yards away.
Skye looked at her hands, stunned. She had evolved. She was "Quake." Or as Hermione called her, "Whitebeard" Skye.
"I feel..." Skye laughed, power rushing through her. "I feel like I could take on anyone! Even a wizard!"
She looked at Hermione, a playful, challenging glint in her eyes. Let's fight!
Hermione smirked.
"Mirror Dimension."
She waved her hand. The world folded.
Skye found herself falling. And falling. And falling.
For thirty minutes.
When Hermione finally let her out, Skye crawled onto the grass, dizzy and humbled.
"Okay," Skye gasped. "Wizards are still cheating. I yield."
"Good," Hermione patted her head. "Now go practice controlling your vibrations before you accidentally shake the plane apart."
Hogwarts.
Having set the MCU plot off the rails (in a good way), Hermione didn't linger. She returned to her "day job."
She appeared in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Lupin was packing his briefcase, looking weary.
Suddenly, the door banged open. Severus Snape swept in, his black robes billowing.
"Lupin," Snape sneered. "Come with me. The Headmaster requires your... unique perspective."
"Severus?" Lupin looked confused. "What for?"
"The Press," Snape spat the word like a curse.
"A representative from the Daily Prophet is here. They want an exclusive interview with our resident celebrity, Miss Granger. And apparently, they want comments from her teachers."
Snape looked at Hermione, his eyes narrowing.
"The interviewer is Rita Skeeter."
Hermione's eyes lit up.
Rita Skeeter?
Oh, this is going to be fun.