The vast New Mexico desert stretched beneath a starless sky. Wind kicked dust across the sand as floodlights illuminated a remote research facility on the brink of collapse.

Alarms wailed, red emergency lights strobed against concrete walls. The compound moved with frantic precision — an evacuation in full force. Out in the desert, a remote research facility was in panic. A swooping helicopter flew in, its blades thundering through the night, whipping sand across the landing zone. Chaos erupted. Men in suits ran in the familiar we have to leave fashion. Soldiers leapt into Humvees, accelerating away. A voice bellowed from hidden loudspeakers. The helicopter touched down hard, the pad shuddering as wind howled around it. Standing a few yards from the landing pad, a fed in a suit with shades watched the helicopter land. This was SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson. He didn’t flinch as sand whipped past him, coat fluttering slightly, expression tight. Shield Agent Maria Hill stepped out next — sexy, fierce, and determined. Shield Director Nick Fury followed. Together, Hill and Fury approached Coulson.

“How bad is it?” Nick Fury asked. The helicopter blades spun behind them, a deafening backdrop.

“That’s the problem, sir. We don’t know,” Agent Phil Coulson said. Nick Fury’s jaw tightened as alarms blared. Agent Coulson led Hill and Fury through the radiation section. Technicians scurried around, grabbing only essentials. Beeps and machinery hummed amid the chaos.

“Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from the Tesseract four hours ago,” Coulson said. “NASA didn’t authorize Selvig to test phase,” Fury replied.

“He wasn’t testing it,” Coulson explained. “He wasn’t even in the room. Spontaneous advancement.”

“It just turned itself on?” Hill asked. “What are the energy levels now?” Fury demanded. “Climbing,” Coulson said. “When Selvig couldn’t shut it down, we ordered the evac.”

“How long to get everyone out?” Fury asked. “Campus should be clear in the next half hour,” Coulson replied. “Do better,” Fury said. They continued down to the radiation facility floor. “Sir, evacuation may be futile,” Hill said, eyes narrowing. “Should we tell them to go back to sleep?” Fury asked. “If we can’t control the Tesseract’s energy,” Hill replied, “there may not be a minimum safe distance.”

“I need you to make sure that PHASE 2 prototypes are shipped out,” Fury said. “Sir, is that really a priority right now?” Hill asked. “Until such time as the world ends, we will act as though it intends to spin on,” Fury said. “Clear out the tech below. Every piece of PHASE 2 on a truck and gone.” “Yes, sir,” Hill said. She turned to the agents. “With me.”

INT. NASA SPACE RADIATION FACILITY, VACUUM CHAMBER – CONTINUOUS

Fury entered the lab where the Tesseract was held in a compact muon solenoid coil chamber. Its glass walls reflected the cube’s violent glow, flares shooting out.

“Talk to me, doctor,” Fury said. Dr. Erik Selvig emerged from behind the CMS machine, concern etched. “Director…”

“Is there anything we know for certain?” Fury asked. “The Tesseract is misbehaving,” Selvig said. “Is that supposed to be funny?” Fury asked. “No, it’s not funny at all,” Selvig said. “The Tesseract is not only active… she’s misbehaving.”

“How soon until you pull the plug?” Fury asked. “She’s an energy source,” Selvig said. “If we turn off the power, she turns it back on. If she reaches peak level…”

“We’ve prepared for this, doctor,” Fury said calmly. “Harnessing energy from space.” “We don’t have the harness,” Selvig admitted. “Our calculations are far from complete. Now she’s throwing off interference, radiation. Nothing harmful… low levels of gamma radiation.”

“That can be harmful. Where’s Barton?” Fury asked. “The Hawk? Up in his nest, as usual,” Selvig said. Fury tapped his earpiece. “Agent Barton, report.” He paused, then muttered under his breath while his eyes scanned the catwalks: “20 bucks he’s with Agent {{user}}.”