Having trouble getting up this morning would be an understatement. My caramel blonde hair was up in a semi-loose ponytail, and I was practically using my windbreaker as a pillow during breakfast. When a knock came to the door, I hit the back of my head against my chair.

Talk about a wakeup call.

Cautiously, I peeked my head through the door, and then opened it wide when I saw the face of Josh Roland. As usual, he had his red hair close-cropped and was well shaven.

I blinked. "Hey. You're home early."

He let out a little laugh and shook his head. "For a reason. Cole, this time, you've got to come with me."

I blinked again, taking a double take. "Wait. What?"

"You've got to come with me." He repeated.

"Huh. Doesn't sound too fun. What if I don't want to?"

"Does the end of the world sound more fun?"

Normally, I would've said, "You're joking." But when Josh Roland gets that look on his face, he never jokes.

Climbing into the passenger side of Josh's Tribeca, we exited New York City. We drove for about ten minutes in the countryside, if that's possible. We took an exit into a dirt road. We stopped in front a flimsy steel gate with a yellow sign.

" 'The bridge is out,'" I read. "Well, this takes the saying 'off the beaten path' to a whole new level, huh?"

"And this—" he stomped the gas pedal. "Is taking 'off-road driving' to the next level."

Okay folks, you can use your imagination. I mean, come on! How would you react if your adoptive father drove off a freaking cliff?

Yeah. Just a thought.

"You can open your eyes now." Josh said.

When I unclenched my fists from the sides of my seat, I opened my eyes. I didn't check to see if we were on solid ground, because for one thing, the car wasn't totally surrounded by water, and the windows weren't totally shattered. I flexed my cotton white fingers, feeling blood rush back into them. I eyed the black jet in front of us suspiciously.

"Let's go then," I said, unlocking my door.

Josh shook his head. "Not me. Just you."

I froze. Would this count as kidnapping? "But—"

Josh looked at me with so much sorrow, I was afraid he'd burst into tears. Very hesitantly, I opened the door and swung a leg out. I felt something tug on my left arm. I turned.

Josh retracted arm, slowly. "You'll see me again soon, I promise."

Josh Roland was always serious about his promises.

"Okay," I said. "Fine. If the fate of the world depends on it, then it must be important."

He nodded, and I turned my baseball cap around, hoping that the visor will cover most of my face. They probably knew what I looked like anyway. I shoved my hands in my pockets and made my way towards the jet.

I noticed three people were waiting: the oldest looking in his late forties, early fifties at the most. He had a serious look on his face and wore a black suit. I could see from the other side of the landing strip (yes, apparently they exist in the middle of nowhere) that his badge read S.H.I.E.L.D. Coulson, Phil.

Standing next to him was a boy with his hands crammed into the pockets of his dark wash jeans.. He had a gray button-down with short sleeves over long-sleeved blue Under Armor. His long brown hair cleared his ears, but his gray eyes shone, nervously darting back and forth, like he didn't want to be here.

That made two of us.

The last guy gave me the creeps. He had dirty blonde hair like mine, although mine was a bit darker, and his was styled to one side, whereas my bangs were swept to one side. Both of us had denim blue eyes. He wore a brown leather jacket over a plaid shirt, and khakis. When I got to the already lowered boarding ramp, I turned around and saw that Josh had already drove off. Like I didn't see that coming.

"Colby Roland?" Phil extended his hand. I raised mine and I was about to shake it when he said, "Glad you could be here."

"I think that makes one of us." I said, dropping my hand. I glared at it until he awkwardly dropped it to his side.

"I trust that Agent Roland brought you here safely?"

I stared at him. "He's a freaking agent?"

Coulson stared for a moment, and then cleared his throat. I already figured out that my adoptive father was actually an agent. I mean, it does explain why he was gone a lot. I just wanted to see how he would react.

He cleared his throat. "I assumed you were informed of his occupation."

"Well, clearly that wasn't the only thing I was left in the dark about!" I fumed. That part was at least true.

The youngest guy with the brown hair was on my right. He coughed a bit. "The world's at stake isn't it? Let's just get in the jet and get this over with."

With that, I begrudgingly walked up the ramp.

Apparently, the jet was for military use, because it was a black as the exterior, and there was one long bench on each side, up to the entrance to cockpit. There were seatbelts too, although I'm sure the only person who actually used them was the pilot and co-pilot. Coulson decided to stand at the entrance to the cockpit.

I sat down a couple seats away from the cockpit on the right side. The blonde guy sat down across from me, and the brunette sat to my left. Both the blonde and I were handed glass tablets.

After turning it on, the top of the screen read "Avengers Initiative."

"What the heck is this?" I asked the brunette.

"A team of special people." He answered. "Can I see that?"

"Sure." I handed him the tablet.

"This—" he tapped on another file, labeled, "the Tesseract," "Is the Tesseract."

"No duh." I said.

He smiled. "I think S.H.I.E.L.D.'s trying to use that to create a clean, constantly renewable energy source. But Loki, this god stole it."

"And the Avengers Initiative, like I said, it's a team of special people. Huh, we're not on the list."
"Why would be on the list?" I asked.

"Well, it'll be for the Initiative, obviously. We're under eighteen so we're still minors. I guess its because we're either really, really talented, or have super powers or something like that to even be considered."

"Such as?"

"I, well—uh . . . it kind of sparked during this one sleep away camp session I had. Dad pulled me out before it ended."

"What happened?"

"Well, long story short, I stopped getting shot by an arrow. I caught it with my mind."

"So you're psychic?"

"I'm a telekinetic and telepathic, not a fortune-teller. I can't read minds, but I can communicate with telepathy."

I nodded. "That's pretty sweet."

"Yeah, sort of. What about you?"

"I'm enrolled in online classes. I quit public schools after this one incident I had with bullies. I really don't give a crud who they are or where they come from. They're annoying. So one day, I totally snapped. The guys cut in front of me at the salad bar and knocked my tray out of my hands. I punched him into the opposite side of the room, and busted the other guys up pretty badly. The staff called security, and I outran them all the way home. After that, Roland enrolled me online."

I don't know why I called him Roland. It just didn't feel right to call him Dad, or even Josh anymore, I guess.

"So, you're strong, and fast?"

"I guess."

"You know, I was there while you were asleep."

Bryan and I stopped talking and looked up sharply. It was Coulson, talking to the guy sitting across from me.

"Ugh," Bryan said. "I was hoping this wouldn't happen."

"What?" I asked. "Who's that guy anyway?"

"That's Steve Rogers. He's a captain." Bryan winced. "My dad's a huge fan of him."

"Oh." I blinked. "Coulson's your dad?"

"Yeah. It's a little unfortunate."

"I mean," Coulson was saying. "I was present while you were unconscious."

Steve had a forced smile on his face that said, "Oh. Great."

Bryan looked like he wanted to turn invisible. "Dad, just stop. Please."

I turned to him. "He's a fanatic about Steve? He's doing a great job of curbing his fanboy outbursts."

"Yeah. You see, Steve's uh, Captain America."

I've studied more than my fair share of World War II. To be honest, it was the only thing that in history class that I was remotely interested in. And by that, I meant that it was the only thing that kept me awake.

I blinked. "That's the most normal thing that I've found out all day."

Bryan laughed.

Phil turned to us. "You kids okay?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"You haven't read the files yet, have you?"

"Not really."

Bryan nudged me. "Well, Steve's part of the Initiative, obviously. I know for sure that have a genius in gamma radiation, and a couple master assassins."

"And we're supposed to be part of this crazy group?"

"Looks like."

We ran out of things to talk about, so we started paying attention to the conversation Phil and Steve were having.

"What about the suit?" Steve asked. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little old-fashioned?"

Bryan and I exchanged looks."

The jet landed, and a woman with short red hair greeted us. Her black jacket had the same eagle emblem that was on Phil's badge. She had a gun in a holster strapped to her leg.

She could probably snap me like a twig.

Phil introduced her as Natasha Romanoff, another one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'S agents. Then she acquainted us with Dr. Bruce Banner, who was the expert in gamma radiation, and part-time green troll that was all over the news four years ago.

Who would've known?

"So this thing is a giant boat?" I asked, walking to the edge of the landing strip.

The others joined me, looking over the edge.

As the floor we were standing on began to shake, Rogers asked, "Is this a submarine?"

"Really?" Banner replied. "They wanted me in a pressurized metal container?"

As if on cue, the water just rushed downward, like someone pulled the plug in the ocean floor. Then, a propeller rose out of the water.

"Oh, no. This is much worse."

"You may want to step inside in minute," Agent Romanoff said. "Its gonna get a little hard to breath."

Natasha led us into the command center, which was filled with a myriad of screen, screen, and wait for it— a giant window. Standing at the middle was a dark-skinned man with an eye patch. He wore a trench coat.

He turned around. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

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