Tony Stark entered the room, the doors swinging shut behind him as they echoed, a hollow, empty sound. It was a sharp crack compared to the silence of the tower's meeting room, which had no windows, only a set of double doors at the one end, which at the moment he rendered as a threat to security. But instead, his thoughts were turned to the woman sitting in a lone chair at the end of the room. She sat in a darker corner, the end of the table seeming miles away from his perspective.
"What's the problem now, Hill?"

Maria Hill was perched in a swirly chair, her elbows on the cool grey table. Her palms touched one another, her chin resting atop the ends of her fingers in an annoyed, yet focused way. Her young face was thoroughly shadowed by a wisp of black-brown hair that hung in her face, somehow fallen out of the ponytail she usually wore. This of course, rendered her expression unreadable; even though Tony doubted that her face would be readable anyhow. Her cheekbones seemed to be elevated higher than usual as her head tilted up slightly, a smirk spelled across what was visible of her face. She tilted her head slightly, the smirk curling into a curious smile. She reached forward, breaking the elegant composure she had been holding; and fingered a set of orange manila folders. She quickly brushed her hands across them however, sending them careening across the table towards him. He noted the long navy blue sleeves that obscured her arms, and soon after that the bird patterned patch on her shoulder. The fact she was wearing her SHIELD uniform slightly bothered him, since at the moment she was in fact working for him, ever since the collapse of the agency.
The folders finally slid to a stop. He reached forward to pick them up, the thickest only seeming to be five pages thick. Stark of course, would have usually come up with a clever remark, but however; when he glanced up at Maria, her lips were pressed back into the thin line they were when he had entered the room, rendering the silence dead serious.
"Oh." He said quietly.

There was a pregnant pause, both of them glancing between the each other and the folders.
Suddenly, Hill broke the silence. "SHIELD has verified another possible threat."
Tony stood still for a moment, trying to piece together what he should say. Suddenly he felt a dawning realization fall down upon him. "Wait a moment. Isn't SHIELD, like, not supposed to exist anymore?"
Maria chuckled, and he could see the ever darker shadows under her face lengthen, indicating her eyebrows raising in amusement. "Not just yet Anthony."
"Does that make you in charge then?" The billionaire said with a satisfactory tone, his head titled back slightly in curiosity.
"I assure you, I'm still only the vice principle in this school." She grinned avidly. "I'm still receiving orders from a higher status. Though, I have been assigned responsibility of your 'team'. It seems a bit scattered at the moment, now doesn't it?"
Tony let out a shallow breath. "I've still got it under control."
"Oh, is that true?"
"Yes." He stammered.

Maria moved back to the position she had before quickly gesturing for him to read the folders. He looked at them, an eyebrow raised, a scowl now spelled across his face, the patterned stubble on his chin twisting. He realized she had changed the subject of the conversation away from the position SHIELD was currently in. He dismissed the thought, promising himself to come back to the subject later. As he picked up the folder he noticed how surprisingly light they were, confirming his suspicions. They had limited information.
This made the subject only worse.
Tony glanced at each of the tabs before reading them thoroughly. He read a small list of names, Charles Xavier, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Kathrine Pryde, Logan Howlette, and Kurt Wagner. And lastly he read the name Henry McCoy. Suddenly a light switched on inside his mind. Henry McCoy had been a name frequently mentioned in the news, though pictures were never shown of the man. The name was always noted alongside the recent rise in mutant population, therefore, Tony suddenly had a feeling he knew just what he was going up against.
Tony felt his stomach sink as he opened the folders, fully aware that there eight names, compared to the six on his team. He could recruit Rhodey, maybe make Pepper a suit- she'd flown one before anyway.

He sighed, opening the first folder, under the name of Charles Xavier.
Kept in line to the top with a paper clip was a small collection of photographs. The first was clearly old, he noted, the pixels grainy and coloration slightly off. Together they portrayed a picture of a young man wearing a suit and tie, a wave of curly brown hair spread across his head, a long pointed nose along with narrow eyes. The color was disappointingly untraceable, the man was squinting. The other most notable photo was much newer, thankfully clearer and much easier. The man sat in a wheelchair, surrounded by a small collection of people, though not as many as there were files, so he assumed that it was still a few years old. Afterwards, Tony quickly skimmed the information for what was actually relevant. He quickly compiled a list of notes inside his head.
'Name: Charles Xavier, Age: 82, Notable aliases: See mutant files. Former Korean War veteran, owning a school designated to the mutant species. Possibly owns undercover team similar to mine, owns underground area, a large mutant tracing computer which can only be used by telepaths. Nearly destroyed the planet once, five years ago. Immobile, probably useless in a fight. Unless he's in range, but he'll most likely send out the members of the agency. Location: Bayville-' Tony swallowed. 'Bayville, New York.'
He moved on. Tony quickly glanced at a picture of a young man, with mop of brown hair atop his head. He wore a pair of red shades, and was smiling, sitting next to a woman on a bench. 'Name: Scott Summers, Age: 27, Notable aliases: Just as before. Orphan, missing brother due to plane crash, brought into the school by Xavier, possibly- no, most likely recruited for agency. Has a permanent stream of- lasers? Really? - coming out of his eyes, incorporating the need for always wearing glasses with ruby-quartz lenses.'
Tony sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced a picture of a red haired woman. She was smiling brightly, and she had striking green eyes similar to Natasha's. 'Name: Jean Grey, Age: 25, Notable aliases: Not gonna bother, it's probably gonna be the same for every person in these files anyway. Daughter of John and Elaine Grey. Haven't made much contact since fourteen years ago. Contains the ability of telepathy and telekinesis. Both are unstable and she has difficulty using them. Is seen with Scott Summers often.'
Next was a much younger person. He flipped through the pictures, all depicting a teenage girl with brown hair, blue eyes, and a tall composure. She too was smiling in most of the photo's. 'Name: Kathrine 'Kitty' Pryde, Age: 18. Born in Deerfield, Illinois. Parents are Carmen and Theresa Pryde. Jewish, though does not embrace it. Has not made contact with parents for six years. If any contact, it is rare, more often than Jean Grey. Possesses the ability to walk through any solid object. Nicknames ability 'phasing'. When she phases through technology, it shorts out. Very acrobatic.'

Tony winced at the next pictures, shaking his head in distaste. The best pictures of the next man were an army profile from World War two, showing a very grumpy looking face and sideburns, along with hair that seemed like it belonged to a Dracula that hadn't slept in a hundred years. There was also a much newer picture, actually from only a week ago at a museum. He was exactly the same. Along with that, a blurred photo of the same man showed three elongated objects erupting form each fist. 'Name: Logan Howlette, Age: 132.' Tony glanced up Maria, who simply shrugged, her hands coming apart slightly to indicate her surprise as well. 'Born on a plantation in the Northwest Territories of Canada in 1882. Served in World War Two, is not often seen in public, if seen at all, often in the wilderness. Volunteered for adamantium bone bonding. Possesses greatly enhanced healing factor, pushes any assailant out of his body and heals almost instantly. Also has three adamantium covered claws on each hand. As well as a heightened sense of smell, has great agility, endurance and the knowledge of Tia-Kwon-Doe and Karate. Has enhanced knowledge on the battlefield.'
Tony swallowed, convinced that Logan Howlette could be very, very lethal when he wanted to. He shook his head, letting out a sigh, and read the next one. He also winced at the pictures of the next man. He was apparently covered head to toe in short blue fur, and his feet had only two toes as a matter of fact. His hands had only three fingers. He had jet black curly hair large yellow eyes and a prehensile tail, as well as a set of wicked sharp fangs. He looked almost demonic, minus the horns and red coloration. 'Name: Kurt Wagner, Age: 19. Born in Germany, exact location unknown. Lived in a traveling circus with gypsies, but was beaten heavily when the circus moved to America. Has a prehensile tail that is just as useful as a third hand. Can rapidly teleport, which also smells disgusting. Has fangs, yellow eyes provide night vision and glow in the dark. Feet are just as flexible as regular hands. Can stick to nearly any surface, similar to the abilities of Spider-man. Has control over small creatures with a similar form and abilities as he does, though only three or four are alive today. Is very acrobatic, apparently has go excellent skills in parkour like sports, is fast, runs like a cat, and has a high knowledge in fencing.' Tony sighed in both anxiety and relief as he came to the last folder. The picture showed a large fluffy blue man, who had a catlike face and was seemingly in a laboratory. 'Name: Henry 'Hank' McCoy, Age: 37. Born in Dundee, Illinois to Norton and Edna McCoy. Has not made contact with parents for sixteen years. Has large opposable feet, is covered head to toe in long blue fur. Has a catlike face, extreme strength and acrobatics. Is also very smart, is the person who singled out what makes mutants 'mutant'. Most likely will not partake in battle.'

Tony heaved a sigh, placing the files back down on the table with a loud slap. "So, you want us, your 'Avengers' to infiltrate a school and eliminate possible threats?"
Maria shifted uncomfortably, her face twisting with doubt and anxiety. "Not eliminate. Simply incapacitate. We need information, and that's it." She said coolly, dismissing all apparent struggle to gain words. "So you want us to kidnap eight people, including the principle of the said school, from the school?"
Maria sighed. "However you want to handle it Stark."

She stood abruptly, leaning over the table. "And keep the files. That's all we've got. And you might want to let everyone else know who you're going up against."
She walked around the table, pacing by him. Suddenly she stopped as Tony reached forward quickly, grabbing her arm. She glanced over at him, a hollow glare forming in her brown eyes.
"Who are they?"
Maria again let a smirk settle across her thin face. "They must have been inspired by you, honestly speaking. They call themselves the 'X-men'."