New York City moved like it always did.
Fast. Loud. Constant.
But for Lucas—
It was starting to make more sense.
Beside him, Natasha Romanoff said his name again.
"Lucas."
He glanced at her.
"…Yeah."
"You respond to it quick."
"It works."
A faint smile touched her expression.
"Good."
They walked a few more steps before she slowed near a small stand on the sidewalk.
"Hungry?" she asked.
Lucas looked at it.
Then at her.
"…A little."
"That's progress."
She ordered without asking.
Two coffees. Something small to eat.
Efficient.
Lucas noticed that.
They stepped aside while waiting.
"You didn't ask what I wanted," he said.
Natasha shrugged lightly.
"You would've said you didn't know."
He thought about it.
"…That's fair."
She handed him the drink.
"Try it."
He studied it briefly, then took a sip.
A pause.
"…That's different."
"Good different or bad different?"
"…Still deciding."
That pulled a small smile from her.
They moved to the side, leaning briefly against a railing.
"Lucas," she said again.
He looked at her.
"You said that name mattered."
"It does."
"How?"
He took another sip before answering.
"…He was the only one who ever pushed me."
Natasha watched him.
"…In what way?"
"Everything," he said. "Skill. Control. Thinking ahead."
A pause.
"…He didn't lose because he was weak."
That—
Meant something.
"…Then why did he lose?" she asked.
Lucas looked ahead.
"…Because I didn't."
Calm.
Simple.
Certain.
Natasha let out a quiet breath.
"…You respected him."
"I still do."
Before she could respond—
A faint voice came through her earpiece.
"Romanoff, do you copy?"
Her expression didn't change.
"…Yeah," she said quietly.
Lucas noticed the shift.
Didn't interrupt.
Just watched.
"We have audio confirmation," the voice continued. "Name is Lucas Trowman. Director wants verification."
"…Understood."
Lucas tilted his head slightly.
"…You talk to yourself often?"
She didn't miss a beat.
"Only when I need good advice."
A small pause.
"…Does it help?"
"Sometimes."
He took another sip of his drink.
"…That's useful."
She studied him for a moment.
Hard to tell if he noticed.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters—
Everything had sharpened.
"Run it again," Nick Fury said.
Audio played.
"…Lucas Trowman."
Fury stood still.
Thinking.
"Search everything," he ordered. "Global records. historical archives. digital, physical—everything."
"Yes, sir."
"No matches so far," an agent added.
Fury nodded once.
"…Good."
That got a look.
"…Sir?"
"If we found something that fast," Fury said, "it wouldn't be him."
A pause.
He looked back at the screen.
Natasha walking beside him.
Talking like this was normal.
"…He gave us a name," Fury said.
"…Which means he wanted us to have it."
No one argued.
"Keep digging."
Back on the street—
Natasha pushed forward.
"So," she said, "you respect strength."
"I respect people who don't waste it."
"And people here?"
Lucas glanced around.
At the city.
At the movement.
"…They're trying."
That wasn't what she expected.
"…Trying?"
"They build," he said. "They adapt. They keep going."
A pause.
"…They just don't realize how far they can go yet."
Natasha watched him closely.
"…And you do?"
Lucas looked at her.
"…Not yet."
They stepped back into the flow of the street.
"So what happens when you figure it out?" she asked.
He thought about it briefly.
"…Then I decide what matters."
"And if someone gets in the way?"
He met her gaze.
"…Then I deal with it."
Calm.
But clear.
Natasha nodded slightly.
"Good to know."
They walked a few more steps.
"…You ask a lot of questions," Lucas said.
She glanced at him.
"Occupational habit."
"That's not what it is."
That caught her attention.
"…Oh?"
"You're trying to understand me," he said. "Same as I'm trying to understand this place."
A pause.
"…Difference is, you already know how this works."
Natasha held his gaze for a second.
Then smiled slightly.
"…And you don't?"
"Not yet."
They kept walking.
But now—
The balance had shifted.
Not completely.
But enough.
And somewhere far above—
People were still watching.
Still listening.
Still trying to understand something they didn't fully see yet.