The high-octane car chase wrapped up fast.
Not because Ronan stepped in to help, but because "Matchstick" slammed himself into a plane.
Yup—an invisible Quinjet.
Ronan never would've guessed that a certain "global superstar" from his past life had this much pull.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D. in this alternate world named their jet after a chunk of his name.
Guess the ikun fanbase stretched across parallel universes.
Back to business.
Matchstick, now locked in a "box," was still out cold. Word was, this box was tough as nails.
At least, its defense was top-tier.
Regular physical hits barely scratched it.
The more Coulson's crew hyped it up, the more Ronan itched to test it.
What can you say? Young blood—rebellion's the name of the game!
As for Ronan showing up, Coulson's team had mixed vibes.
Some knew him.
Well, "knew" as in they had his name, identity, hobbies, even home address and deep dossier.
The one thing they didn't peg? Ronan being Mr. Fantastic.
"Alright, let's circle back to that book you mentioned."
Coulson, fresh off handling one mess, finally had a sec to tackle Ronan's request.
He was already dreading it.
Ronan's presence gave him a bad feeling about what was coming next.
An already tangled case plus a wildcard like Ronan? Honestly, it sucked.
"You don't need to babysit me."
"I'll tag along for a few days 'til I snag my target."
Ronan grinned, trying to downplay his footprint.
Truth be told, he'd mostly forgotten what lay ahead for Coulson's squad.
But he vaguely recalled them jetting off to some cosmic planet.
Even hitting the future.
Where Earth got wrecked—by Skye, no less.
Wild plot, right? Felt like pure fanfic.
Early seasons tracked reality decently, but later? Brain-melting weirdness.
No wonder it got booted from the main universe lineup.
With that kind of nonsense—Earth trashed—where's Doctor Strange in all this…
Wait!
Ronan's face froze.
He'd been to the 616 universe. No Coulson squad there.
Or rather, 616 had similar folks, but their fates? Totally different.
No squad, no current shenanigans, no Inhumans even.
So…
In this universe, Skye blows up Earth someday?
Tsk tsk tsk.
Didn't that kinda diss Ronan, the Sorcerer Supreme?
"Here's the straight talk, Phil."
"You tailing us gives me this weird dread."
"You're way out of our league."
Less dread, more like Coulson couldn't control Ronan.
Fear's root? Ronan could slip his grip anytime.
Nobody likes that vibe.
"Don't sweat it, Phil. That dread's just curiosity spinning out."
"Think about it—if you hadn't made that one bad call, would you still feel this?"
Ronan grinned, hinting heavy.
Coulson caught the drift.
That "bad call"? When he tailed Ronan and Skye.
Got hit with a "your team dies" threat.
He'd mulled it over after—every time, cold sweat.
If he hadn't misjudged Ronan's vibe and power, he wouldn't have tracked him.
Worse—if Ronan had gone hard…
How many of them would've made it back?
Every time he ran that math, one answer.
Only one.
All dead.
Ronan had basically spared them.
"May, who is he?"
"Phil looks spooked."
Leo Fitz whispered to Melinda May nearby.
May didn't answer—just stared at the two, stone-faced.
She knew Coulson—knew him deep.
Someone who rattled him this bad, and so young? Who was that?
Plus, May knew Ronan.
She'd staked him out with Coulson once. He'd also dropped Skye—and that traitor she hated mentioning—off at NYPD.
Not really his doing, though.
"Don't ask too much."
May warned Fitz, a theory brewing.
Something tied to Ronan and S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Only one option.
Mr. Fantastic!
May wasn't wild enough to peg Ronan as the Mr. Fantastic yet.
But her gut screamed he wasn't small-time.
"I'll cop to misjudging you."
"But if you want our help without giving anything back, sorry—that's not fair."
Coulson snapped out of it, locking eyes with Ronan.
Honestly, he couldn't recall the last time he'd "threatened" someone this soft.
Yeah, the words had edge, but his confidence? Shaky.
Every card he held—useless against Ronan.
No leverage, no threat.
"Phil, you're stingy as hell."
"Before I got here, I patched up one of your crew—pure humanitarian vibes."
"Ran into another agent too—she even pulled a gun on me."
"Guess your team's got your charm."
Ronan fired a little jab first.
That line packed info.
A patched-up teammate. A female agent.
Coulson's squad had three women.
Skye was AWOL. Of the two left, May was right here—untouched by Ronan.
That left one obvious candidate.
"Gemma? What happened?"
"What'd you do to her?"
Leo Fitz—Gemma's boyfriend—stepped up fast.
He wasn't dumb—sharp as a tack.
From Coulson and Ronan's chat, plus May's warning, he knew.
Ronan was bad news.
But him name-dropping Gemma? That set off alarms.
Ronan just shrugged, flopping onto a couch.
That non-answer cranked Fitz's panic higher.
Did something happen to her?
"Hey, I'm talking to you."
"What'd you do to Gemma?"
Fitz moved to confront him.
Before step two, Coulson grabbed him.
Let him get close? Disaster waiting.
"Relax. I don't love guns in my face, but I get it."
"Asking for help means playing nice. She's just your teammate."
"She's fine—I swear."
Ronan shrugged, tossing Fitz a bone.
Fitz eyed him, half-trusting, half-doubting—couldn't tell truth from bluff.
"Call her."
Coulson whispered to Fitz.
Lightbulb—Fitz bolted to the lab.
His phone was there.
"Enough already."
"You're not here just to spook my team."
"I'll help with the book—but you fix a problem for me."
"Fair trade, right?"
Coulson took a deep breath, ditching his urge to dig more from Ronan.
His original play? Pry about the Darkhold.
He had a hunch it linked to his current mess.
But now? Keep talking, and Ronan might drop worse bombs.
So he backed off.
"No problem."
"If your 'problem' is that guy, I can handle him now."
Ronan nodded at the waking Matchstick, grinning.
Robbie Reyes—Matchstick himself—felt fear for the first time.
No, wait.
He clutched his chest, stunned.
It wasn't his fear. The thing inside him was scared of this guy!
So clear, Robbie could feel it trembling.
"Him?"
Coulson turned, spotting Robbie awake.
"Yup. Him—or what he turns into."
"I can fix that right now."
Ronan dangled a tempting fix.
Coulson went quiet, weighing it.
Robbie was dangerous—had been on his mind.
"Who are you?"
"Why… why's it scared…"
Robbie stared at Ronan through the box's window, disbelief crashing over him.
Years of torment—and now, someone made the monster inside him quake?
Whoosh.
Next second, Ronan teleported meters, landing inside the box.
He tilted his head at Robbie.
In Ronan's eyes? Just a demon hitching a ride in Robbie's body.
Fitz, back from confirming Gemma's safety, froze.
"Who opened the pod and let him in?"
No one answered.
They were all glued to the scene.
Ronan grabbed Robbie's throat, hoisting him up.
Choking hit Robbie hard—full-body suffocation.
"Hey, Ronan, stop!"
"I didn't say kill him!"
Coulson lunged forward, shouting.
This wasn't his plan for Robbie—he had uses.
Ronan glanced back, smile gone.
"Doesn't matter if you want him gone—I'm handling it."
"It's my job."
With that, his grip tightened.
Pain and choking doubled down.
Robbie fought back with what little he had.
Useless.
He was weak.
Buzz!
At the brink, the dormant demon in Robbie woke up!
Flames erupted, torching his body. As fire roared, his head morphed into a skull!
A flaming skeleton freak!
Coulson's team had seen this before—but never this close.
What floored them more? Ronan.
His hand gripped Robbie's neck—and the blazing fire.
He wasn't… burning?
"Damn Kamar-Taj mage!"
"I'll kill you!"
The demon clearly knew Ronan.
Ever since Ronan showed, it'd stayed quiet in Robbie's body.
Ronan's vibe? Too close to Hell's lord for comfort.
Kamar-Taj?
Mage?
Coulson's ears caught those.
Mage—job title, sure.
But Kamar-Taj? Ronan's crew? Some unknown place?
"Demon from Hell…"
"Why can't you just stay down there?"