While Heisenberg flipped through the comic book, Barbara asked softly,
"That light that shot out of your eyes earlier… was that heat vision?"
"Hmm?"
Heisenberg paused, then composed himself and responded with the calm confidence of someone used to being mistaken for others. Pretending to be an elder Kryptonian, he answered,
"I'm not entirely sure myself. After all, these abilities only manifest once we're under your yellow sun. If you believe it was heat vision… well, then it probably was."
As he spoke, he quickly flipped through the pages of the comic in his hand.
It was one of the early Superman issues, chronicling his origin story—how Kal-El, the last son of Krypton, came to Earth.
There was a surprising amount of useful information in just one volume.
For instance, Superman's powers were granted by Earth's yellow sun, a stark contrast to Krypton's red sun, under which Kryptonians were no more powerful than humans.
Also noted was Superman's vulnerability to Kryptonite—radioactive fragments of his home planet.
Most intriguingly, the comic hinted at the "Codex"—a genetic blueprint of the Kryptonian race encoded within Superman's DNA in certain iterations.
Heisenberg closed the comic with a thoughtful expression and set it aside.
"I can't believe it," he muttered.
"The main character here seems like he might be one of my descendants. Did Kryptonians arrive on Earth before me?"
"Of course not," Barbara replied, crossing her arms. "Before you, nobody believed there was a whole civilization of Kryptonians out there in the galaxy."
"That's what makes this so strange," Heisenberg said, feigning confusion.
"I truly have no idea what state Krypton is in anymore. I was imprisoned and exiled… eighteen thousand years ago. Since then, the only companions I've had were silence and time.
Has Krypton forbidden natural births, as this comic suggests? Is my homeworld really gone?
I wish I could say for sure—but can you?"
"Don't ask me," Barbara sighed. "If I had answers, I wouldn't have been thrown at you like a pawn in some political game."
"Hey."
"Hey," she echoed, sighing again.
The two shared a long glance before Heisenberg chuckled softly.
"Maybe I should find a ship and go home… see for myself."
He didn't mean it, of course, but Barbara's eyes widened slightly.
"Maybe I should quit while I still have a choice," she murmured. "Before they decide a female agent like me is better off in someone's bed than on the field."
Her words hung heavily in the air, and Heisenberg, usually smooth-talking, found himself speechless.
Barbara smiled knowingly at his silence.
"Let's change the subject. I'm here because my orders say I need to stay close to you. So… consider this my formal introduction."
"Uh…" Heisenberg blinked. "You're… very honest."
"So when you find out my job is to get close—very close—to you, to learn everything I can... how do you feel about that?"
She nudged his leg with her foot, teasing.
"I…."
For the first time, Heisenberg faltered. Turns out, when a woman really wants to toy with you, she'll do it until your whole body forgets how to move.
Amused, Barbara nudged him again.
"C'mon. I never did this kind of intelligence work before. How does a guy like you see someone like me?"
"How do I see you?" Heisenberg shrugged with a smirk. "Lying down, mostly."
She raised an eyebrow. He continued with mock innocence.
"I'm just grateful that in my era, Krypton hadn't yet banned natural reproduction like it says in that comic."
Barbara's face flushed deep red. She kicked his leg with more force this time.
"You're so—! Ugh, you're really something! I'm Barbara. Barbara Morse. Now we're properly introduced."
Heisenberg took her hand, smirking.
"Heisenberg. As for a surname—Kryptonians in my time didn't have those. They just called me 'Elder Heisenberg.'"
"Well, I'm not calling you Elder anything."
"You can call me Husband Heisenberg if you like. I won't mind."
"Ugh! You're impossible!"
Barbara laughed despite herself, leaping up from the sofa like a firework bursting into bloom.
She went to Heisenberg first, gave him a firm punch on the arm—playful, not hostile. Clearly, the two were acquainted.
Then, she turned and walked away.
As she moved, she tapped her earpiece with her index finger.
"My director just gave me new orders. Let me build you a bar you'll actually like. Rooftop view, right? Plenty of sunlight?"
"Hey, thanks a lot," Heisenberg replied, waving as Barbara disappeared down the street.
Once she was out of sight, Heisenberg smirked and clicked his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk... That bionic bird's got more charm than half the actresses on modern TV."
Admiring her form and subtle gestures, Heisenberg shook his head, processing what just happened.
Clearly, after witnessing the scale of his power, S.H.I.E.L.D. had opted for a gentle recruitment strategy. They didn't send guns or threats—they sent charm. Barbara's casual leak of her orders was no accident; it was a deliberate display.
It reminded Heisenberg of animals preparing to fight—only for one to realize the other was far too powerful.
What then?
You roll over. Show your belly.
S.H.I.E.L.D., in Heisenberg's eyes, had just rolled over like a submissive hyena, wagging its tail and cooing like a spoiled pet.
"Come on, rub my belly. I'll even show you where I hide the good stuff!"
If it weren't for his current identity—Earth's one and only Kryptonian—he wouldn't bother engaging with them at all.
Because even a submissive hyena... is still a hyena.
Let your guard down, and they'll sniff out your weaknesses, manipulate your habits, maybe even manufacture your vulnerabilities. And when the moment comes—they'll sink their teeth into your throat, your chest… even your dignity.
But right now? Heisenberg was the only Superman in the entire MCU.
And that meant, like it or not, he had to engage with S.H.I.E.L.D.
Why?
Because while his job here was relatively stable—his true income was something else: origin material, capable of manifesting any imagination.
And how much he received depended on how much influence he had in this world.
Influence required presence. Drama. Chaos.
So, to affect the fate of more people in the Marvel Universe?
He had to do things.
And if he wanted to kick off that chaos strategically, he'd rather it start with S.H.I.E.L.D.—a known factor—than with Hydra, the CIA, MI6, or whatever clone-ridden Black Widow training program was active now.
Gross as they were, at least the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents looked familiar.
Better the devils you know.
Sunlight warmed his skin as Heisenberg sorted out his thoughts.
He'd use S.H.I.E.L.D. for now.
Use them to insert himself into major events, to control leaks about his presence, to enjoy the perks of being on the world stage. Maybe even steal a few shows—"Tonight, brought to you by Heisenberg."
More importantly, he'd use them to build a fearsome image.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't tame him, what chance did anyone else have?
So yeah, he'd ride this wave.
At least, until S.H.I.E.L.D. crumbled under Hydra's inevitable betrayal.
He'd ride it all the way to the top.
Elsewhere…
Nick Fury had just finished getting dressed and had no idea that his nightmare was only beginning.
Now, he and Maria Hill were organizing an emergency level-seven agent meeting. The room was packed with high-clearance personnel. Virtual imaging equipment buzzed quietly, and surveillance footage from earlier played on the main screen—directly from Heisenberg's mechanical eyeball.
The reactions were immediate—shock, disbelief, nervous chatter.
Nick Fury waited until the murmuring died down, then said flatly:
"Heisenberg has been identified as an extraterrestrial. He claims to be the High Elder of the Kryptonian Council. In short—he's their leader."
"Hold up," someone cut in—an older man, cigarette dangling from his lip.
"You serious? Kryptonians? That's comic book stuff."
"John, I thought it was a joke too," Fury snapped, "but watch the footage. Indestructible body. One punch caused a level six earthquake. Heat vision. Frost breath. It's all there."
He stared coldly at John Gartler, an old comrade and constant thorn in his side.
Time had eroded their trust. Gartler always had a jab ready—but he knew when to shut up.
So Nick continued.
"Heisenberg landed at 00:26 hours and left the Triskelion by 03:43. In those seven hours, satellite tracking showed him circling Earth over 7,000 times. At speeds we can't track, let alone match."
"He's powerful. Arrogant. And he sees us as… negotiable."
The room was silent.
Nick went on.
"He could breach any of our bases. And if all he wants is a damn espresso, I don't want any of you drawing your sidearms on him!"
He let that hang.
A couple minutes passed. Quiet muttering resumed.
Then Nick slammed his hand on the table.
"Until we have a guaranteed way to kill him, there are no hostilities. Not from anyone!"