"We moved first," Natasha said. "Because of what we learned from you, we caught Iron Front off guard at the start. We even identified their man at the top. Pierce."
She took a breath before continuing.
"Then the Tesseract was stolen from us. They reproduced energy weapons based on old wartime designs. That changed everything. We were hit hard, fast. We had to abandon the Triskelion and scatter to safe houses."
Her jaw tightened.
"One of those safe houses was compromised from the beginning. Winter Soldiers were already waiting. We were ambushed. Casualties were heavy. Director Fury didn't make it."
The room fell silent.
"We barely escaped," Natasha finished. "Everyone you see here is what's left. We came to you because there was nowhere else to go."
She explained the rest without embellishment. Project Insight had been sold as a preventative defense system. Three airborne carriers, constant surveillance, threats neutralized before they could act.
In reality, it was a purge algorithm. Names calculated, futures predicted, executions automated. Anyone who might one day oppose Iron Front would be erased long before they had the chance.
"And once that was done," she said quietly, "the carriers would be used to bring the rest of the world into line."
Steve Rogers shook his head. "That cube should've stayed at the bottom of the ocean."
He didn't need to explain why. He had lived through the first time that power had fallen into the wrong hands.
"You're right," Coulson said. "If Fury hadn't pushed to study it, Iron Front wouldn't have had the opening to steal it."
There was no bitterness in his voice. Just exhaustion.
"I don't agree," another agent snapped. A middle-aged man with hard eyes and clenched fists. "If we'd cracked the tech first, we'd have won. Fury would still be alive."
"John," Coulson said quietly. "I get it. I really do. But this isn't the time. We can argue about mistakes later. Right now, stopping Project Insight is all that matters."
Rowan had been listening without comment.
Then he smiled.
"Before we go any further," he said lightly, "I should probably learn everyone's names."
The man who had spoken earlier straightened. "John Garrett."
Others followed.
"Grant Ward."
"Jemma Simmons."
"Leo Fitz."
"Alphonso Mackenzie."
"Barbara Morse."
Rowan nodded along, pleasant and attentive.
When the last name was spoken, his smile sharpened.
"Well," he said, voice calm, "that explains a lot."
Several people frowned.
"You were ambushed because Iron Front never left your side," Rowan continued. "You brought them with you."
Eyes turned. Confusion rippled through the room.
"Garrett. Ward," Rowan said, meeting their gazes directly. "Seasoned infiltrators. Impressive performances, too. I almost believed the grief."
Before anyone could respond, Professor Xavier pressed a hand to his temple.
"There are armed units outside the grounds," he said, his voice echoing softly in everyone's mind. "Enhanced soldiers. They can't enter, but they're searching."
"Two traitors," Rowan said thoughtfully. "Possibly more."
Natasha stepped forward. "Rowan, we're out of time. Iron Front controls the carriers. If they launch, we're finished."
"You're right," Rowan said. "But if we don't remove the rot first, nothing else we do will matter."
He looked back at Garrett, still smiling.
"So let's begin there," Rowan said. "One at a time."
The carriers didn't worry him. Three machines weren't enough to terrify a planet full of sleeping giants. If they rose, someone would swat them down.
What mattered was timing.
And letting the world see who stepped in when everything else failed.