Marvel: Familia System

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The streets were filling with police and emergency vehicles, the flashing lights casting long shadows across the pavement. The people who had been under Killgrave's control were starting to come back to themselves, some of them breaking down in tears, others standing in stunned silence as they tried to piece together the fragments of their shattered lives.

Erwin, now in control of the police operation, efficiently directed the officers on the scene. He dispatched units to gather statements from the victims, but not without ensuring that medical personnel were present at each site, ready to offer comfort and care. This wasn't just any incident—it was a supernatural event, and he knew it had to be handled with extreme caution. After a brief but necessary update to Fury before he left SHIELD HQ, Erwin hadn't waited for orders; he came straight to the scene on Nero's directive.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration cutting through the din of the unfolding operation. Pulling it out, he saw Fury's name on the screen. "Yes, Director?" Erwin answered, keeping his tone steady and professional.

"What the hell is going on out there, Smith?" Fury's voice was sharp, laced with the controlled intensity that Erwin had come to expect from the Director.

"A controlled crisis," Erwin replied succinctly. "Mind control, extensive and wide-reaching. We're containing the situation."

There was a brief pause on the other end, just long enough for Fury to process the information. "Mind control? You better not be telling me we've got a supervillain loose in the suburbs."

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," Erwin confirmed. "Purple Man. He had an entire neighborhood under his influence. The situation is under control now, but it's going to take time to unravel the damage."

Fury's silence spoke volumes. When he did respond, his voice was laced with frustration. "Who authorized the engagement? I didn't give any green light for SHIELD intervention."

Erwin didn't hesitate. "I did. The intel came through reliable channels, a friend of mine, and by the time we had the full picture, immediate action was necessary."

Fury's voice cut through the line, seething with barely contained anger. "Who the fuck is your friend, and how is he involved?"

Erwin remained composed, his tone steady. "He's a private investigator, works independently. Goes by the name L. He had a lead on Killgrave and was following up when things escalated. When it became clear how deep this went, he signaled for help. That's when I stepped in."

"L?" Fury's voice dripped with skepticism. "You're telling me you're trusting an outsider on something this big? And he just 'signaled' for help? Since when do we trust freelancers with the kind of intel that could get hundreds killed?"

"He's not just any freelancer, sir," Erwin replied, choosing his words carefully. "L's been effective in his own right, and in this case, he was already embedded in the situation before SHIELD had eyes on it. He's been dealing with cases that our standard channels can't always reach, and he's got a track record that's hard to ignore."

"Hard to ignore doesn't mean reliable, Smith," Fury snapped back. "You should've brought this to me before making a move. Now, we're cleaning up a mess that should never have happened."

Erwin's grip on the phone tightened slightly, but his voice remained calm. "I understand the protocol, Director. But by the time I had the full picture, there was no time for a formal request. L was in the middle of it, and the longer we waited, the more people Killgrave could've hurt—or worse."

A tense silence hung between them before Fury spoke again, his tone hard. "I want a full report on this L, including how you got involved with him. And make sure you clean up this mess fast—SHIELD doesn't need another incident blowing up in our faces."

"Understood," Erwin replied. "I'll have the report on your desk by morning."

"See that you do," Fury said, his voice clipped before the line went dead.

Erwin slipped the phone back into his pocket, his eyes scanning the scene before him. The flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow over the neighborhood, but the immediate danger had passed. Now came the difficult part—helping these people rebuild their lives after the nightmare Killgrave had put them through.

He moved through the scene, giving clear, concise instructions to the officers and medical personnel. They were efficient, and Erwin appreciated their professionalism in handling such a delicate situation. The victims needed not just care but also reassurance that they were finally safe, and that was something SHIELD could provide.

As Erwin continued to coordinate the operation, he spotted L approaching from the edge of the crowd. The detective's usual calm demeanor was in place, though there was a faint hint of fatigue in his eyes. Jessica walked beside him, wrapped in a blanket, her face pale and drawn but showing signs of resilience.

Erwin stepped toward them, his eyes briefly meeting L's. "How's she holding up?"

"Better, considering the circumstances," L replied, his tone measured. "She's strong. But it'll take time."

Erwin nodded, his gaze shifting to Jessica. "We'll make sure she gets the help she needs. There's a secure facility where she can recover, away from all of this."

Jessica looked up at him, her eyes weary but determined. "I don't want to be locked away. I don't want help."

Erwin nodded at Jessica's determination, respecting her wish to handle things on her terms. He gestured to an officer nearby. "Take her statement, and then they're free to go."

The officer, a young man with a calm demeanor, quickly approached. "Yes, sir," he said with a crisp salute. Turning to L and Jessica, he softened his tone. "If you'll follow me, we'll get this over with as quickly as possible."

L gave a small nod, guiding Jessica to the side as the officer led them away. Erwin watched them go, noting how Jessica carried herself despite the trauma she had endured. She had a long road ahead, but the fact that she was still standing, still pushing forward, spoke volumes about her inner strength.

Satisfied that things were moving as they should, Erwin resumed his duties, ensuring the operation was running smoothly. The neighborhood was gradually coming back to life, the residents starting to process what had happened, some leaning on each other for support, others accepting help from the medical teams. It was a scene of recovery, but the scars would linger.

In his office, Fury leaned back in his chair, the dim light from the computer screen casting a sharp contrast against the darkened room. He stared at the search results displayed before him, his expression hardening with frustration. The name "L" had yielded nothing useful in SHIELD's extensive database, not even a trace of a lead. Undeterred, Fury switched tactics, opening a web browser and typing the same letter into Google.

The results were even less promising. The first hit was a Wikipedia page about the letter "L," followed by a collection of YouTube videos featuring nursery songs, and then a site dedicated to the etymology of the letter. Fury's patience was running thin.

He slammed the laptop shut, exhaling sharply through his nose as he reached for his phone. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen, typing out a message with an intensity that matched his rising irritation.

On the other side of the city, Erwin's phone buzzed in his pocket as he finished directing the last of the emergency response teams. Pulling it out, he saw the message from Fury: "Tell me that motherfucker's full name right now!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of Erwin's lips. Fury was clearly on edge. He could almost picture the Director's simmering frustration on the other end of the line, and it was enough to amuse him for a brief moment.

Erwin's fingers hovered over the screen as he thought about how best to respond. He decided to go with the truth—well, a version of it that L had provided.

With a calm precision, Erwin typed back: "Agami Right."

It was L's official name in this universe, created by Sorella. Yagami Light had once introduced himself with a subtle twist of his accent, transforming "Ruragito" into something that sounded like "Lawliet" in Japanese. It was a sly move, a way to spite L by revealing his name in plain sight. In return, L had adopted "Agami Right," a name that mimicked Yagami Light's own, a small but satisfying payback.

Fury quickly typed "Agami Right" into his search bar, his frustration clear in the forceful clack of keys. The results flooded in almost immediately. The screen filled with documents, credentials, and records linked to the name. According to the official files, Agami Right's family history was steeped in hardship.

His great-grandfather had emigrated to the United States in the 1920s, seeking better opportunities. However, during World War II, the family, like thousands of other Japanese Americans, was forcibly relocated to internment camps under Executive Order 9066. The U.S. government had issued the order after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, driven more by fear and racism than any real evidence of disloyalty. The internment camps were harsh, uprooting lives and stripping away dignity. Despite the later formal apology and reparations from the government through the Civil Liberties Act in 1988, the scars ran deep. The Agami family had lost their land, their homes, and many of their connections.

Agami Right himself was born in 1990, growing up in Utah before attending the University of Wyoming. Fury's eyes narrowed as he read that detail. "Same as Erwin," he muttered under his breath. The connection between the two men began to take shape. "Are they friends from school?" The thought made Fury pause, piecing together what he knew so far. Erwin's swift action and the trust he placed in L—this "Agami Right"—started to make more sense if they had a personal history.

Fury clicked through more records, finding nothing that contradicted the information Erwin had provided. Everything about Agami Right checked out—his schooling, his work history, even his family's background was meticulously documented. The more Fury read, the more convinced he became that L was no mere freelancer but someone deeply entrenched in the kind of work that SHIELD handled daily.

Frustrated, yet begrudgingly impressed by the thoroughness of the information, Fury leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. He wasn't satisfied, but for now, he had to let it be. Fury picked up his phone again, sending a brief, curt message to Erwin: "I want a debrief first thing in the morning. Don't leave out a damn thing."

Erwin's phone buzzed with Fury's message as he stood outside the mobile command center set up near the suburban neighborhood. He read it quickly, a faint smirk touching his lips. The response from Fury was expected—direct and demanding, just like the man himself. Erwin typed out a quick acknowledgment before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

He turned his attention to the scene unfolding around him. The police were still processing statements from the residents, some of whom were in shock, while others seemed eager to recount their experiences, desperate to make sense of what had happened. Medical personnel moved through the crowd, offering blankets and words of comfort, while the occasional sob or raised voice punctuated the night air.

SHIELD would never let so many people who knew about the supernatural just walk away without intervention. Erwin knew they'd have to be either put under "protection" or convinced they'd experienced a mass delusion. The thought of that—erasing or altering memories—made Erwin sigh as he pondered how best to handle the situation. After a moment, he decided to consult Coulson.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. The line clicked, and Coulson's voice came through, calm and direct as always. "Smith, I assume you've got the situation under control."

"More or less," Erwin replied. "But we've got a problem. The neighborhood's been through hell, and everyone here knows something happened. They're talking, remembering. SHIELD isn't going to let this many witnesses go without doing something."

Coulson's silence on the other end told Erwin that the agent understood the implications. Finally, Coulson spoke, his tone thoughtful. "We've got options, but none of them are ideal. We could try the memory wipes, but with this many people, it's going to be messy. Alternatively, we can bring them all in for 'debriefing,' but that'll mean relocating families, uprooting lives. Neither choice is clean."

"Neither is desirable," Erwin agreed, scanning the faces of the people around him, some still visibly shaken, others just starting to piece together the horrors they'd experienced. "But we can't risk letting them leave without intervention. If word gets out, if the media picks it up, we'll have a lot more on our hands than just a neighborhood in shock."

"Fury's not going to like it," Coulson said, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But the best course might be to go with containment. We'll need to set up a temporary relocation program. Tell them it's for their own protection, that the incident might have left some lingering effects. SHIELD can monitor them, keep things under control without outright wiping their memories. It's not perfect, but it's better than risking exposure."

Erwin nodded, even though Coulson couldn't see him. "Understood. I'll get things moving on the ground here. We'll start the relocation process immediately."

"Good. Keep me updated. And Smith—be careful with how you present this. These people have been through enough. The last thing we need is a panic."

"Will do." Erwin ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead.

Erwin walked over to where a group of officers were gathered, discussing the next steps. He gave them clear instructions to begin organizing the residents, informing them that they would need to be temporarily relocated for their own safety. The officers looked concerned but nodded, trusting Erwin's judgment.

As the relocation process began, Erwin moved through the crowd, speaking with as many people as he could. His demeanor was calm and reassuring, explaining that the situation was still under control but that they needed to take extra precautions. The residents, still in shock, mostly complied without protest, their minds too overwhelmed by the events to argue.

He spotted L in the distance, standing near Jessica, who was now talking quietly with one of the officers. L's expression was unreadable as always, but there was a subtle tension in his posture that told Erwin the detective wasn't entirely comfortable with how things were being handled. Not that L would ever say as much.

Erwin made his way over, giving L a brief nod. "Everything alright here?"

"As well as can be expected," L replied, his tone neutral. "Jessica's holding up. She's tougher than she looks."

"Good," Erwin said, his eyes briefly flicking to Jessica before returning to L. "We're relocating everyone for now. SHIELD will handle it, make sure they're taken care of."

L gave a slight nod, though his gaze remained fixed on the crowd. "I expected as much. It's the only way to keep this contained."

Erwin sighed, glancing back at the chaos surrounding them. "Not the cleanest solution, but it's all we've got. What about you? Need anything before you go?"

L shook his head. "No. I'll take Jessica somewhere safe. After that, I'll disappear for a while. I've already been here too long."

"Be careful," Erwin advised, his voice low. "Fury's got his eyes on you now."

L's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I always am."

Without further words, L turned to Jessica, gently guiding her away from the scene. Erwin watched them go, his mind already turning to the next steps. He knew that this was far from over, and the fallout from tonight would be felt for a long time.

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