•ONE•

In an office buried deep underground, concealed from the rest of the world, a man hunched over his desk, a yellow file in his hands. Big, bold red words were stamped across it: CONFIDENTIAL. He looked back at his laptop and sighed, then slowly opened the file. Seven pictures fell out, giving him an unobstructed view of the bold black letters printed neatly on white paper.

AVENGERS INITIATIVE.

The photos all showed vastly different people. People who, frankly, didn't look as if they would get along very well with each other. They didn't have much in common, except for one thing: their files were all stamped with the words DANGEROUS. POSSIBLE INHUMAN. UNDER SURVEILLANCE.

The man heaved a deep sigh and picked up the first photograph, which showed a vibrant scarlet-haired woman in what looked to be assassin gear, with a dagger in her hand and a matching threatening look on her face. She was looking slightly away from the camera, her other hand resting on the glinting hilt sheathed in her belt, her muscles tensed as if to throw at an unseen enemy.

Scrawled on the top of her file, the letters glaring up at the man, were the details his spies had gathered about her, before she had come to them.

NAME: Natalia Alianovna Romanova

OTHER NAMES: Natasha Romanoff

ALIAS: Black Widow

CURRENT STATUS: Alive. S.H.I.E.L.D Agent.

Reaching through the multitude of papers on his desk, he received a black stamp and stamped her file. When he lifted the stamp, it read, in large letters: GREEN.

He set to work, examining the other pictures and their corresponding files, stamping some with the green stamp and some with red.

Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man: green.

Thor, Norse god of thunder: red.

Bruce Banner, a.k.a the Hulk: red.

Steven Rogers, Captain America: green.

Clint Barton, Hawkeye: green.

Finally he set aside Hawkeye's file and reached for the last one. For a brief moment, he hesitated, as if reluctant; but then he seemed to shake it off and picked up the photograph with new resolve.

A black haired teen stared back up at him.

It looked to be a yearbook photo, maybe two or three years old. The boy had windswept, raven black hair, which refused to be tamed, though someone had evidently tried, and striking green eyes that bore into the soul. They were a unique colour, one that the man had never seen before on anyone else, despite scanning files like these on a daily basis. Accompanying that photo were several others, grainy, which looked as if they had been taken from a street CCTV. It was hard to match the smiling boy in the yearbook photo to the security photos; one might even think they were entirely different people. However, the man sitting at the desk knew better.

This boy's file stood out from all the rest, if only because of the lack of it. The man stared down at the single piece of paper in front of him, which contrasted sharply with the stacks of paper for the others (except Thor) which could have made up several books.

NAME: Perseus Jackson

AGE: 16

MOTHER: Sally Jackson

FATHER: Unknown

The man frowned, massaging his temples. How was it that a simple sixteen-year-old boy had evaded S.H.I.E.L.D surveillance for so long? They were the most technologically advanced, the best in the world. There was definitely something suspicious about him, even if he was only sixteen. He exhaled, seeming uncomfortable, before stamping it RED.

His thoughts still lingering on the mysterious boy, he reached for the phone sitting on the desk and punched in a set of numbers. Leaning back, he listened to the rings. One ... two ... three ...

"What is it? I'm busy," came the slightly annoyed voice of the former Russian spy.

Nicholas Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, let out a long-suffering breath at the sound of her clipped tone. "I have a job for you."