Chapter 22: Where Could Such a Living Person Have Gone?

World of Warcraft, Azeroth.
A timeline destined for destruction.
Year 4 after the opening of the Dark Portal, July 14th, clear skies.
The magical kingdom of Dalaran.
Ronin, newly promoted to full mage and nicknamed "Lucky Ronin," crept stealthily into the forbidden section of the Dalaran Library, a place not open to ordinary mages.
He intended to "borrow" the collection of books belonging to the Astral Mage Medivh, which Grand Mage Khadgar had brought from Karazhan!
Suddenly, footsteps echoed nearby.
Several "Dalaran Iron Knights" were patrolling, drawing ever closer.
Ronin was not concerned at all.
He was experienced.
Richly experienced in such struggles.
Ronin raised his staff and began to cast a spell.
"Invisibility!"
However...
Nothing happened.
"Huh? Where did my Invisibility spell go? Such a big spell, and it just vanished?"
Ronin was baffled.
What was happening?
The footsteps drew nearer.
He had no time to dwell on it, so he cast again.
Still no effect.
"This can't be right. The Violet Enclosure isn't known for suppressing magic!"
"Even if it did, it would only cause the spell to collapse or fail, not make it disappear altogether—there should at least be some magical residue."
"I clearly cast the spell successfully!"
The footsteps came closer, faster now.
Evidently, the Iron Knights had sensed the mana fluctuation, realizing someone was up to no good in the forbidden archive—a place where neither spellcasting nor entry was allowed.
Ronin grew anxious, stubbornly casting once more.
The spell vanished again.
He had no time left to cast. The Iron Knights rushed in.
"It's Ronin! The bane of Dalaran! I knew it was him—he escaped several times before! Quick, seize him!"
One knight shouted.
"No need to report to Speaker Antonidas or Councillor Krasus. Just throw him in solitary!" ordered another, his face grim, clearly the captain.
Ronin looked bitter.
Once again, he’d have to rely on Teacher Krasus to bail him out.
How embarrassing!
…
…
Laboratory.
A well-equipped S.H.I.E.L.D. field team stormed into the quantum reaction chamber.
"Don't move!"
"Hands up!"
"Face the wall and squat!"
But the next moment, they froze.

Before them, the room was empty—not even the battery case remained.
Only the lone quantum generator stood, accompanied by two laptops.
Grant Ward frowned.
As S.H.I.E.L.D.'s famed "Covert Operations Specialist," a level 5 agent, he trusted his professionalism and the new tech gear from the science division.
The X-projector screen had clearly shown three people moments ago!
Their faces were indistinct, only rough outlines, but it was obvious—two men and a woman.
How could living people just vanish?
Was there a secret door?
Or some optical device warping the light?
Like a grand stage magic trick, making people disappear?
"You two, guard this spot!"
"You two, search the left side!"
"You two, search the right!"
"Everyone else, search the room!"
Ward gave swift orders, then pressed his communicator and brushed the third button on his shirt.
"Sir, the people are gone!"
"The quantum generator's battery is missing too!"
…
…
Five kilometers from the laboratory, on a main road.
The red sports car, Lola, sped along.
Black Widow Natasha raised one long, snowy leg and slipped off her loose jacket.
Seasoned driver Coulson instinctively glanced, his eyes tracing down her leg—catching a glimpse of something, his excitement made his hand twitch, sending the steering wheel spinning and nearly causing a collision with an oncoming truck.
"Eyes on the road!" Natasha snorted, donning her tactical suit.
The phone rang, masking Coulson's embarrassment.
Upon hearing Ward’s report, Coulson hesitated, then issued a command: "Lock down the lab, continue searching."
He hung up, then spun the car around sharply.
Screech!
Natasha, caught off guard, ripped her tactical knife through her undergarment, exposing a flash of white.
"What are you doing?" Natasha asked, expressionless, continuing to dress.
Coulson, pressing the accelerator, replied, "Someone took the quantum generator’s battery!"
Natasha frowned deeply. "Steal it to sell?"
"A single battery case could fetch at least a hundred thousand dollars… or perhaps they plan to continue the experiments," Coulson said. "My gut tells me this is connected to the lab’s accident. My contacts in the LAPD told me that the bodies of the other lab personnel were never found—not a drop of blood, not a strand of hair. It’s as if they vanished into thin air."
Natasha pondered, "I’ve read the files. Both the generator and its battery were made by Eli. Do you think the thief might seek out Eli?"
"Maybe Joseph instead—he’s the lab supervisor, the team’s core," Coulson said, pressing his communicator. "Director, here’s the situation… We’re heading to the LA prison… Already sent someone to the hospital for Joseph? The rapid response special forces are nearby? Their captain is Brock Rumlow, a world-class fighting master aiming to rival Captain America. Understood."
…
…
Skye held her breath, carefully inching away.
She didn’t know exactly what had happened, but it felt impressive.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were right there, yet hadn’t noticed her—had Old Wang left behind a trick?
No, who knows how many tricks Old Wang has.
That man is riddled with secrets; he’s practically synonymous with secrecy!

Footsteps?
The breeze stirred by walking?
Even breathing and heartbeat might alert a skilled agent—especially a level 5 covert specialist like the one before her.
But, sorry—not possible.
A surge of true energy flowed from Old Wang’s hand into her body, masking her heartbeat.
She held her breath.
She moved slowly, leaving no trace.
Robbie beside her did the same.
Old Wang led the way.
A master monk of the Pandaren, capable of training on a single lotus leaf; Old Wang, a grandmaster, was even more adept—footsteps were undetectable.
Carrying the battery case as he passed between the two agents, Old Wang felt a pang of regret.
The quantum generator was too large, fixed to the floor, impossible to take.
But the two laptops were just sitting there—brand new, each worth thousands of dollars. How could he have forgotten?
Would it be too late to go back for them?
He considered it and decided it was possible.
But, better not.
S.H.I.E.L.D. could surely track the laptops; once online, escape would be impossible. Skye’s hacking wasn’t yet strong enough—if S.H.I.E.L.D. targeted her, she’d be exposed.
Not worth it.
Old Wang turned and smiled warmly at Lucy, gentle as a boy next door.
Lucy and her three colleagues exchanged bewildered glances, as though they'd seen a ghost, suddenly feeling cold and shivering all over.
This man—no, the boss—has yet another trick up his sleeve: invisibility, just like in movies and novels. Unbelievable, terrifying.
That’s it, freedom is gone, time to accept fate.
They hurried after him.
The Dodge Charger was parked farther away, in a spot without surveillance.
Once in the car, Old Wang glanced at Lucy.
Lucy understood:
She was to be their guide.
Sheltered under someone else's roof, there was no choice but to comply. Lucy sighed.
Two hours later, the Dodge Charger stopped in front of a dilapidated old house in the countryside.
"This is the place? Hmm, I sense some powerful dark energy."
Old Wang recalled the Battle of Mount Hyjal.
Back then, with the help of the Bronze Dragonflight, he crossed time and personally killed Kil'jaeden’s trusted lieutenant, Reggie Winterchill, claiming an epic magic tome: Chronicle of Dark Secrets.
The aura was quite similar.
"The Dark Grimoire, here I come!"
…
…
Meanwhile, Coulson and Natasha stood before the surveillance screens at Los Angeles Prison, staring unblinkingly at Eli inside.
"How much longer do we have to watch? Is someone really going to break him out?" Natasha shifted to a more comfortable position.
"My gut tells me, they will," Coulson straightened his back.