Chapter 131Avengers
Arc 8 - Ch 23: The Battle of New York
Saturday, May 05, 2012.
Location: Stark Tower, Midtown Manhattan, New York
A giant space worm flew through the portal above Stark Tower. The Chitauri Leviathan carried hundreds of soldiers along its armored flanks as it descended toward street level. Black Widow, Hawkeye, Captain America, and Wolverine scattered as aliens jumped from compartments, descending with inhuman shrieks.
Captain America stared upward. "Stark, are you seeing this?"
"I'm seeing, still working on believing." Tony's voice came tight through the comms. "Where's Banner?"
A calm, feminine voice answered. "The Hulk has been rampaging since being released from Loki's control. Currently in the Apple store on 5th Avenue, just south of Central Park."
Iron Man jet between skyscrapers. "Alright, keep me posted." Banking sharply, he asked, "What about the kid? Did he finish his Duel of the Fates? Because it looks like Earth's fate is still up in the air."
Every person in Manhattan heard Tyson's voice simultaneously. Not through their ears but directly in their minds. The message repeated, broadcasting to every consciousness within miles as panic transformed into chaotic purpose.
Natasha broke from the group. "Wednesday, guide me to Tyson. He'll need protection while he's vulnerable."
"That answers that," Tony said. "If they don't make him the new voice of the subway after this, I'll be surprised."
The Leviathan continued its destruction, smashing through buildings. Tony swerved and faced the creature head-on. A miniature multiple rocket launcher rose from his shoulder and fired. The missiles struck its face in brilliant flashes.
The Chitauri Leviathan roared and turned toward him.
"We got his attention." Tony's voice went tight. "What the hell is step two?"
On the ground, Cap ducked behind an overturned taxi as Chitauri energy blasts peppered his cover. Logan crouched beside him, adamantium claws extended.
"What's the story upstairs?"
"The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable," Thor said.
"Thor is right." Iron Man strained as he evaded the Leviathan. "We gotta deal with these guys."
Logan slashed through a Chitauri soldier, alien blood splattering. "How do we do this?"
Cap rose to his full height. "As a team."
The streets had transformed into a war zone. Cars lay overturned and burning, windows shattered. Yet amid the chaos, people moved with purpose toward the evacuation points, guided by Tyson's psychic broadcast.
Wolverine snarled as he cut down another alien. "These things just keep coming."
Then came a sound that echoed through the streets. A sonic boom followed by a whistling descent as Tyson dropped from the sky. His landing cracked the asphalt, creating a small crater. Dust billowed around him. The metal components of nearby vehicles trembled, singing a high-pitched note that made the air itself feel charged.
Natasha swung down from a fire escape, landing at his side. Her red hair was disheveled but her eyes stayed alert. She didn't speak, just took position slightly behind and to his left. The unspoken understanding between them was clear.
"Stark? We got him," Cap said.
"Banner?" Iron Man asked.
"No, Tyson. He's back in play."
"Hope you're ready, kid." Static crackled. "I'm bringing the party to you."
Iron Man's armor appeared from behind a skyscraper. Behind him, the massive Chitauri Leviathan followed, smashing through a building corner as it turned. Debris rained down as the creature roared.
Black Widow stared. "I... I don't see how that's a party..."
Iron Man swooped down the street, the Leviathan barreling after him like a freight train. The ground trembled as it approached.
Cap turned to Tyson. "Can you handle this?"
Instead of answering, Tyson tilted his head. "Hey Wednesday, we got eyes on me?"
"Affirmative," the AI replied. "The battle is being recorded from multiple angles and broadcasting live across several networks."
"Why are we worried about this now?" Natasha asked.
Tyson never took his eyes off the approaching Leviathan. When he spoke, the words came out quiet. Almost conversational. But they carried the weight of a death sentence, cold and final in a way that made the hair on Natasha's arms stand up.
"Because I want everyone to see what happens when you come into my city and threaten my people."
The moment stretched. Natasha had seen Tyson angry before. Seen him fight. This was different. This was cold. This was the part of him she'd glimpsed in training but never truly witnessed unleashed. She felt her pulse quicken, not from fear but from something more complicated. Something she didn't want to examine too closely.
The Leviathan tore through abandoned vehicles and street lights, pursuing Iron Man toward their position.
"If you're squeamish," Tyson said in that same eerily calm voice, "you might not want to watch this."
"Watch what?" Cap asked.
Thor's voice came sharp. "The Chitauri are cybernetically enhanced."
The Leviathan closed to a block away. Tyson raised his arm, palm open.
The effect was immediate.
The massive alien beast, moving at hundreds of miles per hour, stopped in midair. It hung suspended above the street, momentum completely negated.
Iron Man veered off sharply. "What the—"
Tyson closed his fist slowly.
The metal lining the Leviathan's body began to shift. Armored plates that had protected the creature expanded outward. Then violently reversed direction. They pierced inward through flesh, tearing and impaling. The Leviathan shrieked as its own armor became a thousand knives cutting from the inside.
Tyson turned his hand ninety degrees, fingers still clenched.
The metal embedded throughout the Leviathan began to spin.
The creature's body contorted, twisting in ways no living thing should move. It was being shredded from the inside out, organs liquefied by spinning blades of its own armor. The Chitauri soldiers riding along its back weren't just killed. They were pulped, eviscerated, reduced to a fine mist of tissue that rained down on the street below in a grotesque spray of alien blood and viscera.
The shrieking stopped.
Where once had been a fearsome creature, only organic matter remained, scattered across the pavement in unrecognizable chunks. The alien metal suspended in the air like a grotesque sculpture, still spinning slowly, dripping.
No one spoke.
Natasha found herself unable to look away. She'd known Tyson was powerful. Had seen him practice, watched him train. But this—this was him with the safety off. This was what he could do when he stopped holding back. When he wanted to send a message.
A small part of her whispered that she should be horrified. The rest of her felt something different. Something that made her glad she was on his side.
Cap stared, shield lowered. Even Wolverine looked impressed.
Thor gripped Mjolnir tighter. "Impressive."
"Remind me never to get on your bad side, kid," Tony said, hovering nearby. His usual banter fell flat in the silence that followed.
Tyson lowered his arm as the remains dropped with a wet splatter. When he turned to face the team, his grey eyes had narrowed to slits, the blue and green rings barely visible. His voice carried across the street, cold and final.
"They came for a war. But what they'll find is a slaughter."
The metal from the destroyed Leviathan hovered around him like a deadly constellation, tracking the movements of the remaining Chitauri forces overhead.
"Hey Wednesday, what's the current kill count?" His tone turned casual, the shift jarring after what they'd just witnessed.
Nick Fury's voice crackled through the comms. "Are you turning this war into a game?"
"Not a game, Director." Tyson flicked his wrist, sending shards of alien metal through three Chitauri warriors attempting to flank Black Widow. "Just maintaining tactical awareness of enemy reduction."
"Current confirmed eliminations," Wednesday said crisply. "Tyson: 113. Thor: 52. Iron Man: 48. Black Widow: 26. Captain America: 13. Hawkeye: 13. Wolverine: 12."
"You're keeping score?" Steve asked.
Thor laughed as he summoned lightning. "A warrior should know the weight of his victories!"
"If you're done comparing numbers," Natasha called out, dispatching another alien, "we've got more incoming."
"The kid's got a point though," Tony said. "Knowing how many we're taking down helps gauge their numbers. JARVIS, start recording my kills separately from Wednesday's count. I think she's lowballing me."
"I assure you, Mr. Stark, my calculations are precise," Wednesday replied.
Logan grunted. "Less talking, more killing."
Tyson gathered the floating metal into a swirling sphere. "Speaking of which... I'm assuming the Leviathan was worth a hundred since I haven't taken out that many individually. How much is Loki worth? I gotta get those points since I took him out, right? We're not allowed to kill him because we need to bring him back to Asgard."
"He's the golden snitch from Harry Potter," Natasha said. "Worth a thousand, but I don't think he's out of the fight yet."
Fury's sigh came audible through the comms.
"I'll just have to do better than that," Tyson replied, "in case one of you gets to him first."
His expression shifted, more calculated. "I should probably use some strategy. Fury, bring that helicarrier up the East River and take out any stragglers trying to leave the island."
"And what exactly are you planning to do?" Fury asked.
"I'll start inland and close the box between the two House of M locations."
"That's two miles."
"It's not a problem." Tyson turned to the team. "Wednesday, have Vanko draw the line from the Park Avenue Armory south to the end of Central Park."
Tony hovered above. "Why there?"
"Closes the box a little. And it's easily visible from the sky. I don't have a HUD like you do, and Thor doesn't know the city."
"We'll hold this position," Cap said.
Natasha stepped closer. "Be careful. These things are more dangerous than they look."
"So am I." Tyson gave her a grim smile before launching himself skyward with a burst of magnetic force.
He streaked westward, wind whipping past as he accelerated to speeds that would have torn a normal human apart. Buildings blurred beneath him until he reached Times Square, its iconic billboards cracked and flickering.
The farthest Chitauri stragglers had reached here, shooting at civilians from their flying chariots. People ran screaming. A family cowered behind a yellow taxi as a Chitauri warrior aimed its weapon at them.
Tyson descended like a meteor. With a gesture, he seized the metal components in the Chitauri's body. The alien shrieked as its cybernetic implants tore free, leaving behind only organic remains that dropped to the pavement.
He moved methodically through Times Square. Each Chitauri met the same fate: cybernetic components ripped from their bodies while vehicles and weapons were preserved.
"Wednesday, update on civilian evacuation status."
"Evacuation is 37% complete. Estimated time to full evacuation: 42 minutes."
"Not fast enough." Tyson gathered the metal from fallen Chitauri into deadly shards that orbited around him. The alien chariots and weapons followed in his wake, creating a bizarre flying armory.
A Chitauri leviathan appeared from behind a skyscraper, its massive form casting a shadow over the street. Tyson focused his power. The metal components within began to vibrate, then twist. The leviathan roared as its cybernetic systems were forcibly separated from its organic parts. The creature collapsed, metal ripping furrows through its body before joining Tyson's growing arsenal.
"Tyson, we've got a problem." Natasha's voice came through the comms. "More of them are coming through the portal. We can't keep up."
"I'm working on it. How's Vanko's line holding?"
"The Sentinels are operational," Wednesday reported. "They have established a perimeter from the Armory to Central Park South. However, they are facing heavy resistance."
Tyson accelerated, leaving behind a trail of dismembered corpses. The metal he'd collected formed into shields and walls to protect civilians as he passed.
"Stark, how's the situation at the portal?"
"Not great." Repulsor blasts punctuated Tony's words. "More of these space whales keep coming through. We need to find a way to close it."
"Working on it." Tyson reached a group of Chitauri that had cornered a bus full of civilians. He ripped all the metal from the aliens, then formed larger pieces into a protective barrier around the bus. "Get to the nearest evacuation point. Follow the NYPD officers."
As he continued, his flying arsenal grew more impressive. He formed some of the metal into barriers to block streets and funnel the Chitauri into killing zones.
"Fury, status on the helicarrier?"
"ETA three minutes."
The battle raged across Manhattan. Tyson continued his systematic destruction, his collection of alien metal growing with each enemy. The flying arsenal that followed him had become so massive that civilians below pointed upward in awe.
Wednesday's voice came with urgent news. "We have a problem. Hulk has engaged Ivan Vanko at Park and 59th. That's only one block from the Lexington evacuation point."
"We need someone who can handle the Hulk there now. Time to switch dance partners."
"Who can handle the Hulk?" Natasha asked, breathless.
Tyson surveyed the battlefield. "Me or Dr. Sofen. But not me, because he's probably pissed at me for taking out Sterns while he was in the Hulk's head. Karla, you're up."
"Dr. Sofen?" Fury's voice carried skepticism.
"She can go intangible. It'll keep him occupied, and if anyone can talk him down, it's her."
"Kind of got my hands full," Karla said, strained. Moonstone was currently engaged with Angela.
"Point her in my direction." Tyson paused. "Wait a minute, where's Max?"
"Max is with the defenders around Grand Central Terminal," Wednesday said.
"He's at Stark Tower?" Grand Central was right under Stark Tower, where the portal continued to spew Chitauri. "Never mind. Send Max to Thor to hold the portal. Karla, go after Hulk..." He trailed off, mentally reshuffling. "Uh... who can keep Angela busy... Natasha, and where's Jessica?"
"Me?" Natasha sounded surprised as she webbed up a Chitauri.
"Yeah. Spider people are great at keep-away. Just keep away from her punches. Where's Jessica?"
No one answered.
"If you intend to follow directions," Wednesday said, "please head south toward downtown."
Natasha dispatched her current opponent. "On my way. Don't forget, we still need a way to close that portal." She sprinted, vaulting over abandoned vehicles and using her webs to swing around corners.
— Rogue Redemption —
The subway entrance at Lexington and 37th Street had transformed into a critical evacuation point. A steady stream of terrified civilians poured down the concrete steps, guided by House of M personnel.
Yuriko Oyama stood alert at the entrance, adamantium claws extended. Her black hair whipped around her face in the wind created by passing Chitauri vessels.
"Keep moving. Faster."
Beside her, Remy LeBeau leaned against a streetlamp with deceptive casualness. He shuffled a deck of cards between his fingers, the movements fluid and practiced. His trench coat flapped in the wind, revealing body armor beneath.
"No need to frighten them more, chérie. They moving as fast as they can."
Ann Marie directed traffic at the bottom of the stairs, her Southern drawl carrying upward. "Stay to the right! Keep moving! There's room for everyone!"
A woman clutching a toddler stumbled on the steps. Ann Marie caught her arm, careful to avoid skin contact. "Careful now, sugar. Just a little further."
The air suddenly filled with a mechanical whine.
"Incoming!" Yuriko shouted.
Three Chitauri chariots swooped around the corner, energy weapons glowing blue. Yuriko dropped into a defensive stance as the chariots dove. She leapt sideways, rolling as energy blasts scorched the concrete where she'd stood. The civilians screamed, rushing for the entrance.
Gambit pulled several cards from his deck. They began to glow with kinetic energy, pulsing magenta between his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them spinning toward the lead chariot.
"Pick a card. Any card."
The charged cards exploded on impact, tearing through the hull. The chariot spiraled into a second vessel. Both erupted in flames.
"Two for one. House always wins."
But the third chariot banked sharply, circling back with reinforcements. Five more vessels appeared, forming a staggered formation.
"Get down!"
A barrage of energy blasts strafed the street. Gambit dove behind an abandoned taxi, but not quickly enough. Three blasts caught him. One in the shoulder, another grazing his side, the third hitting his leg. The impact threw him across the pavement. He skidded to a stop, cards scattering, body limp.
"No!" Ann Marie's voice carried from the subway entrance.
Her face contorted with fear as she abandoned her post, running toward Gambit's fallen form. Her movements were awkward compared to the trained fighters. No enhanced agility, no combat training. Just determination and fear propelling her forward.
Yuriko saw the danger immediately. Another wave of chariots banking for another pass. Ann Marie would be exposed, defenseless.
"Stay back!" Yuriko shouted.
Ann Marie kept running.
Yuriko intercepted her, positioning herself between Ann Marie and the approaching threat. In that moment, as they crossed paths, Yuriko made a split-second decision.
She retracted her adamantium claws and reached out.
Ann Marie's bare hand brushed against Yuriko's exposed skin.
The pull activated instantly.
It felt like falling and being ripped apart simultaneously, like drowning and suffocating at once. Knowledge flooded into Ann Marie that wasn't hers. Training she'd never done. Fighting techniques she'd never learned. Memories of pain, of healing, of adamantium bonding to bone while someone screamed and screamed and never stopped screaming. The sensation of claws extending from fingertips, metal sliding through flesh. All of it rushed through her in the space between heartbeats, overwhelming and invasive and terrifying.
Her body absorbed it hungrily, greedily taking everything Yuriko had to offer. Powers, reflexes, healing factor. The other woman's essence flowing into her like water into a sponge that had been bone-dry and desperate.
Ann Marie gasped at the sudden influx but kept moving forward. Behind her, Yuriko staggered back, momentarily weakened by the transfer, hand clutching at her chest.
Four steps later, a Chitauri blast caught Ann Marie in the side.
The impact spun her around. Heat seared through her jacket, through flesh beneath, cutting deep. She felt the wound open wide, felt blood begin to pour hot and wet down her side. The pain was white-hot, immediate, worse than anything she'd experienced. Like being branded with a hot iron pressed directly against her ribs.
Then the healing factor kicked in.
Ann Marie stumbled but didn't fall. The wound began to close. She could feel it happening, tissue knitting back together with impossible speed, cells regenerating faster than they were dying. The pain receded, replaced by an odd tingling sensation as her body repaired itself. Within seconds, only torn fabric and blood remained as evidence of the injury.
She kept moving, dropping to her knees beside Gambit. Blood soaked through his coat, but his chest still rose and fell in shallow gasps.
His eyes fluttered open. Recognition dawned through the pain, and despite everything, a smile tugged at his lips.
"Not how I pictured you touching me today, chère."
Ann Marie didn't hesitate. She placed her bare hand against his cheek, skin to skin, and activated her power once more.
This transfer was different. Where Yuriko's abilities had felt like steel and survival and screaming metal, Gambit's energy manipulation flowed into her like liquid fire. Warm. Electric. Alive. Intimate in a way the first absorption hadn't been. She felt the cards calling to her, felt the kinetic energy responding to her will like it had always been there, waiting for her to reach out and claim it.
Fragments of his consciousness came with it. His accent, his mannerisms, the muscle memory of a thousand card throws, and underneath it all, something softer. The way he saw her. The way he'd always seen her.
"Hold on, Remy." She gathered his scattered deck with her free hand, the cards feeling right in her grip, like they belonged there.
Above them, the Chitauri chariots regrouped for another attack run.
Ann Marie stood. Cards fanned between her fingers. They began to glow with the same magenta energy Gambit had channeled earlier, responding to her will like extensions of her own body. The power hummed through her, eager to be released.
The first chariot dove toward them.
Ann Marie flicked a card. The Queen of Hearts. Gambit's muscle memory guided her movements, made them perfect, made them effortless. The card connected with the vessel's underside, exploding on impact. The chariot disintegrated, its pilot thrown clear only to be caught by a second card. The Jack of Spades detonated against its chest.
Two more chariots approached from different angles.
Ann Marie threw cards in rapid succession, each finding its mark with precision she'd never possessed before. Explosions bloomed in the air as vessels fell from the sky in burning fragments. The power sang through her veins, and for the first time in her life, touching someone hadn't been a curse. It had been salvation.
The remaining Chitauri broke formation, retreating.
She knelt beside Gambit again, helping him sit up. His wounds were serious but not immediately life-threatening.
"Thanks for the save." Gambit winced as he shifted position. He looked at the cards still glowing in her hand and managed a pained smile. "You always did have a way of stealing a man's heart."
The sky above Manhattan had become a theater of war. Chitauri vessels crisscrossed between skyscrapers while larger Leviathans drifted ominously through the clouds. Yuriko and Ann Marie worked together to move Gambit toward the subway entrance, his arm draped across Ann Marie's shoulders.
"We need to get you below."
"I can still fight." His legs threatened to buckle with each step.
Yuriko scanned the skies. "Something's coming."
Overhead they saw a figure in black, swinging between buildings. Initially, they thought it was Spider-Man, but the figure wore a uniform with light armor and had a feminine shape.
Their attention shifted as a streak of blue light shot northward. A woman whose body glowed with energy blasted a Chitauri vessel with concentrated beams. The alien craft spiraled downward, crashing into an abandoned bus. But the woman never slowed, heading toward Central Park.
With another woman flying after her. In just underwear.
The unknown Spider-Woman fired a webline and caught the nearly-naked woman's ankle. The webline stretched taut. Natasha braced herself against the side of a building, muscles straining. The woman in underwear was yanked backward, trajectory interrupted. She plummeted, body spinning before crashing into the pavement below. The impact created a small crater.
That had to hurt.
But when Natasha swung down to ground level, the woman was standing in the center of the crater, looking completely unharmed. Red hair and beauty that seemed untouched by the violence. She stood in a wide stance, confident despite her lack of armor or clothing.
"You dare interrupt my pursuit, mortal? I was hunting worthy prey."
Natasha landed gracefully, keeping her distance. "No wonder Tyson wanted to wrestle her."
"I am Angela of Heven. And you have denied me my quarry. Perhaps you will provide a worthy challenge instead."
Angela reached behind her back, pulling a spear from seemingly nowhere. She twirled it with practiced ease.
"I've been looking for you. You're working with Loki."
Angela's expression darkened. "The trickster and I share a common goal, nothing more."
She lunged forward, spear slicing through the air. Spider-sense flared. Natasha flipped backward, the blade missing by millimeters.
"You move well," Angela said.
"I'm full of surprises."
Without warning, Angela pivoted and hurled the weapon.
Spider-sense screamed. Natasha twisted in mid-air, body contorting as the spear passed through the space her heart had occupied an instant before. The weapon embedded itself in the concrete wall behind her, sinking halfway to its haft.
"Nice throw." Natasha fired twin streams of webbing at Angela's feet.
Angela leapt upward, evading easily. She hovered ten feet above the ground, red hair flowing around her face. "Your sticky traps are child's play."
Natasha seized the opportunity, firing webbing at Angela's spear. With a powerful yank, she tore it free and spun it in her hands. "Let's see how you do without this."
"A warrior is never defined by a single weapon." Angela reached behind her back again, this time producing a sword.
Natasha closed the distance, spear in hand. She thrust forward, forcing Angela to parry. The weapons met with a metallic clang. Natasha didn't waste energy responding. She redirected Angela's force, stepping inside her guard, sweeping her legs. The Asgardian hit the ground.
Natasha fired webbing at Angela's legs and arms, continuing to fire, using her webbing to create a cocoon.
For a moment, it seemed she'd succeeded. Angela lay immobilized.
Then Angela's body began to glow with faint golden light. Her muscles tensed, veins standing out as she exerted godlike strength.
The webbing began to tear.
Angela roared. The webbing exploded outward as she freed herself with a single violent movement. She rose, eyes blazing.
"You fight with cunning and skill. But you cannot hope to defeat a daughter of Heven."
She launched herself at Natasha with renewed fury. Natasha barely managed to evade, spider-sense giving just enough warning. Angela's fist connected with her forearm. The impact sent her skidding backward, pain radiating up her arm.
"Need a new strategy."
Natasha fired webbing at Angela's face. The Asgardian tore it away with a snarl, but the brief distraction allowed Natasha to close the distance. She struck with precision, targeting pressure points and joints.
Angela grunted in surprise as the strikes found their marks. She swung her sword in a wide arc. Natasha ducked beneath the blade, firing webbing at the Asgardian's sword hand. Before Angela could break free, Natasha had circled behind her, launching a kick that connected with the back of Angela's knee.
Angela's leg buckled. Natasha capitalized, firing more webbing at her other hand and foot, creating anchor points.
Angela roared again, face contorted with frustration. "You fight without honor, using tricks instead of facing me directly!"
"I fight to win. Honor is a luxury for those who can afford to lose."
— Rogue Redemption —
The line of sentinels hovered high above East 66th Street, from Central Park to the East River. Several on each block, each standing seven feet tall with a stylized 'M' emblazoned on chest and forehead. Wednesday had suggested the design, knowing Tyson would get a kick out of the Majin Buu reference.
The first wave of Chitauri pushed outward from Stark Tower, their alien crafts weaving between buildings. Three warriors on speeder crafts accelerated toward the sentinels.
The sentinels unleashed devastating beams. The first speeder exploded, sending its rider plummeting. Micro-missiles tracked the second with unerring precision, reducing it to debris. The third banked between buildings, but a sentinel detached from the line, pursuing with whip-like energy tendrils that sliced through the engine.
More Chitauri approached in a coordinated formation, splitting into groups to overwhelm different sections. The sentinels moved with mechanical precision but fought with almost human creativity, covering each other's blind spots and adapting to threats in real-time.
A larger craft approached, carrying at least twenty warriors. Five sentinels assembled into a pentagonal formation, energy arcing between them before discharging as a single devastating attack that lanced through the craft.
The Chitauri recognized the blockade and concentrated their attacks on East 66th Street. Dozens of speeders and foot soldiers assaulted the line.
The sentinels held. Not a single alien made it past.
After suffering heavy losses, the Chitauri began circumventing by heading into Central Park.
Ivan Vanko had retreated to a far-off chamber in the Alley after Tyson revealed his belief in an impending invasion. He'd spent weeks here, working in solitude to create a suit that could withstand an alien attack. One that would utilize all the best sentinel, suit, and drone technology, even designs that never left the planning stages.
"If bird comes to Russia, this is what we do," Vanko muttered as he made final adjustments.
The chamber was cavernous, one of the few spaces in the Alley large enough to house his creation. Overhead lights gleamed off the polished metal of the Whiplash Sentinel. Twenty feet of ruthless engineering stood before him, its frame bulkier than the standard sentinels but no less agile. The chest plate bore the stylized 'M' logo with intricate circuit patterns etched into the titanium alloy.
The arms ended not in hands but in specialized housings for his signature weapon: energy whips, now upgraded to slice through virtually any material. Four additional whip mechanisms mounted on the back. The legs were reinforced with thrusters for stability during flight and combat.
Vanko had spent days integrating the neural interface, allowing him to control the massive machine with the precision of his own body. The cockpit sat in the chest cavity, protected by layers of shielding.
"Wednesday, status report."
"The Chitauri have bypassed the line, moving into Central Park."
Vanko nodded grimly. "Then it is time."
He pressed his palm against a scanner on the sentinel's leg. The chest plate slid open with a pneumatic hiss. Vanko climbed the access ladder and settled into the control seat.
"Neural interface online," Wednesday announced as he connected.
The cockpit sealed around him, screens illuminating to show external views. The familiar tingle of neural connection established itself, the massive machine becoming an extension of his own body.
"Whiplash Sentinel activation sequence initiated."
The sentinel hummed to life. Diagnostics flashed green.
"Why this chamber connects to the lake, I do not know. But today, it serves purpose."
He'd modified the suit for underwater deployment, adding specialized seals and propulsion systems for navigating the flooded tunnel connecting this chamber to Central Park Lake.
"Flood sequence initiated."
The blast door behind the sentinel sealed. Ahead, another massive door slid open, allowing water from the lake to rush in. Cold water rose around the sentinel's legs, then torso, finally submerging it completely.
"Underwater propulsion systems engaged."
The sentinel moved forward through the flooded tunnel, sonar mapping the path ahead. The journey took less than a minute.
The sentinel reached the tunnel's end. With a surge of power, Vanko directed it upward.
The surface of Central Park Lake erupted.
Twenty feet of metal rose from the depths. Water cascaded down the sentinel's frame, catching the sunlight and creating a momentary rainbow around the imposing figure. A metal colossus emerging like some mechanical sea god.
Chitauri speeders patrolling the park perimeter immediately converged, energy weapons charging.
"They come to Ivan Vanko." A grim smile crossed his face. "Good."
The sentinel's systems locked onto approaching targets. The chest-mounted repulsor array fired, a devastating wave of energy that reduced the lead speeder to atoms.
The remaining Chitauri opened fire. Vanko laughed as the diagnostic showed minimal damage taken.
"Now my turn."
The whips deployed. Eight gleaming tendrils extending from arms and back, moving with impossible speed. They sliced through Chitauri craft like paper. Three speeders fell in as many seconds, their pilots screaming as they plummeted. More forces diverted, recognizing the new threat. A formation of ten speeders approached from the north while ground forces gathered at the lake's edge.
Vanko engaged the flight systems, rising higher.
"You want to enter park? Must go through Vanko first."
The weapon systems came online simultaneously. Repulsors, energy whips, and shoulder-mounted missile arrays. The air around Central Park filled with streaks of energy and explosions as Vanko unleashed his creation's full arsenal.
Chitauri speeders fell in burning heaps. Ground forces met precisely targeted missile strikes that left only craters.
A larger transport approached, attempting to deploy troops directly into the park. Vanko directed all power to the main chest repulsor. The resulting beam cut through the transport's hull, igniting its power core. The explosion lit up the sky.
Vanko maneuvered the sentinel in a patrol pattern above Central Park. Any Chitauri attempting to enter was immediately engaged and destroyed.
"Central Park is secured," he reported through the comm. "No Chitauri will pass through Ivan Vanko."
Hovering over Grand Army Plaza at the southeast corner of Central Park, Vanko surveyed the battlefield. Chitauri forces had been effectively repelled from this sector, their broken speeders and bodies scattered across the plaza. The massive machine rotated slowly, sensors scanning for new threats while energy whips swayed beneath it like the tentacles of some mechanical kraken.
Movement caught his attention. The Apple Store's glass facade had shattered, people rushing out.
"Civilians looting electronics during alien invasion." Vanko shook his head. "Americans."
Then an entire display cabinet came hurtling through the storefront, landing with a tremendous crash that sent glass and metal skittering across the plaza.
Vanko directed the sentinel closer, hovering thirty feet above the entrance. External speakers activated. "Who is there? Show yourself!"
"Caution is advised," Wednesday said.
"Is Chitauri?"
"No. The Hu—"
"If not Chitauri, then not my concern." Vanko leaned forward.
"I must insist you do not engage the—"
"Come out now! This area is under protection of House of M!"
"You shouldn't do that."
The warning came too late.
A deafening roar erupted from within the store. A massive green figure burst through what remained of the entrance. The Hulk stood amid the rubble, massive chest heaving. His eyes locked onto the hovering sentinel.
"What is this?" Vanko stared. "Looks like less scaly version of Lizard."
The Hulk's muscles tensed. Knees bent.
He launched himself skyward, covering the thirty-foot gap in an instant.
Vanko deployed four energy whips simultaneously. They lashed out, wrapping around the Hulk's limbs mid-flight and halting his trajectory just feet from the sentinel's chest.
"Got you." The neural interface translated his thoughts as the whips tightened.
The Hulk roared, struggling against the glowing restraints. Vanko increased power, sending electrical current surging through them. Blue-white energy crackled along the Hulk's massive form, eliciting another roar tinged with pain.
"Whatever you are, you calm down now."
For a moment, it worked. The Hulk's struggles lessened, his head dropping forward as if stunned.
"I tried to warn you," Wednesday said. "That's Dr. Bruce Banner, also known as the Hulk. He is classified as an ally by SHIELD and—"
The Hulk's head snapped up. Before Vanko could react, the green giant grabbed one of the energy whips with both hands. Despite the electrical current, he pulled with such force that the sentinel lurched forward.
"Impossible."
Warning lights flashed across the control panel.
The Hulk roared again, this time in triumph. With a violent twist, he tore the energy whip from its housing, sending sparks erupting from the sentinel's arm.
"Structural damage to right primary manipulator," Wednesday reported calmly. "Energy whip system compromised."
Vanko increased power to the remaining whips. The Hulk grabbed another, seemingly impervious to the electrical current now. Muscles bulging, veins standing out against green skin, he began pulling the sentinel downward.
"Divert power to flight systems!"
The repulsors flared brighter, straining against the Hulk's incredible strength. For a moment, they hung in equilibrium.
Then the Hulk grabbed a third whip.
With a savage yank, he tore it free, the force spinning the sentinel in the air. Vanko fought with the controls, stabilizing just as the Hulk began using the severed energy whip like a flail, swinging it against the sentinel's leg with a resounding clang.
"Armor integrity at 92 percent. The entity's strength exceeds design parameters."
"Then we fight differently." Vanko retracted the remaining whips and activated the shoulder-mounted missile arrays. Targeting systems locked onto the Hulk, who had dropped back to the ground and was preparing for another leap.
"Non-lethal ordnance selected."
Before Vanko could fire, the Hulk leaped again with even greater force. He crashed into the sentinel's chest, the impact sending them both careening backward. Warning alarms blared.
The Hulk clung to the chest plate, fingers digging into the metal with alarming ease. With a roar that Vanko could feel through the machine's frame, the Hulk began tearing at the armor, ripping away chunks of reinforced alloy like tissue paper.
"Armor breach imminent. Cockpit integrity compromised in approximately twenty seconds at current rate."
Vanko diverted emergency power to the chest repulsor. The weapon hummed as it charged, barely audible over the Hulk's continued roars and the screech of tearing metal. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The temperature in the cockpit was rising, alarms screaming warnings he couldn't silence.
The Hulk paused, seeming to sense the building energy. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the glowing circle at the center of the sentinel's chest. With a snarl, he raised both fists above his head.
The chest repulsor whined, growing in intensity. Vanko's eyes flicked between the power readout and the external feed showing those massive fists poised to strike. The calculation was clear and simple and terrifying.
The repulsor wouldn't reach full power in time.
"Bozhe moi. This will hurt."
If the Hulk smashed through the central arc reactor while it was charging, the resulting explosion would incinerate the cockpit. Vanko had survived prison, Siberian winters, and Tony Stark. He wasn't about to die at the hands of an overgrown green rage monster.
His palm slammed against the red button.
"Emergency ejection protocol."
Mechanical locks disengaged around the cockpit as the sentinel's head assembly separated from its body. The Hulk's fists were already descending as repulsors ignited beneath the ejection pod.
The sentinel head shot upward like a champagne cork.
Through the viewscreen, Vanko watched the Hulk's fists connect with the glowing arc reactor, now exposed and critically unstable.
The world turned white.
The explosion was magnificent. The shockwave expanded outward in a perfect circle, a miniature sun blooming in the heart of Manhattan. The Hulk, for all his strength, flew backward like a rag doll, crashing through the remains of the Apple Store and continuing through the back wall.
Vanko's ejection pod tumbled through the air, spinning wildly as the shockwave caught it. His stomach lurched. Warning lights flashed as the stabilizers struggled to compensate.
He activated the secondary transformation sequence.
The pod split open, revealing the Whiplash v3 armor. The sleek, compact version unfolded around his body, plates sliding into place with mechanical precision. This was the newest version of the armor he'd worn at the Stark Expo. It lacked the sentinel's raw power, but its agility and speed were vastly improved.
The transformation completed just as the pod's trajectory sent it hurtling toward a nearby building. Vanko engaged the suit's repulsors, arresting his fall and hovering above the devastation below.
The explosion had left a crater in the street, chunks of asphalt and concrete scattered across the plaza. Store windows for a block in every direction had shattered. Water from broken mains gushed into the depression.
"Wednesday, status report."
"The Sentinel has been completely destroyed. Estimated property damage exceeds twelve million dollars. No civilian casualties detected."
Vanko nodded, relieved. "And the green monster?"
"The Hulk survived the explosion. He is currently emerging from the building across the street."
Sure enough, the rubble at the back of the Apple Store shifted. A massive green hand emerged, followed by the Hulk's head and shoulders. He shook debris from his body like a dog shaking off water.
"Blyad. Round two, then." Vanko charged his whips.
Before he could descend, a streak of white-gold light caught his attention. A figure dropped from the sky, hovering between Vanko and the emerging Hulk. The woman wore white and emanated a golden aura that pulsed with power.
"Head east toward Lexington," Wednesday instructed. "The helicarrier will be taking position above the East River. Try to clear whatever you can between Stark Tower and there. You'll know it when you see it."
Moonstone raised a hand to her ear. "Alright, I'm here, Tyson. Any tips?"
Vanko turned eastward, leaving the Hulk situation in Moonstone's capable hands.
Tyson's voice crackled over the comms, calm despite the chaos. "You're the psychologist, but here's what I think. The Hulk isn't just a monster. He's a psychological defense mechanism. Banner created him subconsciously to protect himself from trauma."
Karla hovered above the crater, watching the green behemoth shake off concrete dust and twisted metal. His eyes scanned for the threat that had just tried to obliterate him.
"Think of him as a child with the power to level buildings. He experiences emotions intensely but lacks the emotional regulation to process them constructively. His tantrums are legendary because they're exactly that. Tantrums."
The Hulk spotted Vanko's retreating form and roared, the sound reverberating through the shattered storefronts. Moonstone positioned herself between them.
"Most importantly, never call him Banner. He hates that. There's significant trauma there. Hulk exists to protect Banner, but Banner fears and rejects him. Everyone fears him because of the destruction he causes, including the very person he was created to protect. He's the part of Banner that Banner needs, but hates most about himself."
Karla recognized the complex dissociative relationship Tyson was describing. The comms fell silent for a moment.
"How did you come up with a psyche profile more detailed than our own?" Maria Hill asked.
"Power absorber, remember? I've been speaking with Dr. Sofen for months, and you had me cooped up on base with Stern's intellect. I had a lot of time to think."
"That was helpful," Karla said. "I'll see what I can do."
She deactivated her comm and descended slowly. The golden light surrounding her dimmed as she approached. The Hulk watched her, breathing heavy, posture shifting from aggressive to wary.
"Hello." Her voice came calm and measured, the same tone she'd used with countless patients over the years. Professional. Steady. Non-threatening. "My name is Karla. I'm not here to hurt you. And I don't want you to hurt anyone else either."
The Hulk grunted. His eyes darted between her and the direction Vanko had flown. Massive hands clenched and unclenched, each fist large enough to crush her skull like an egg.
"I know he tried to hurt you, and that wasn't right. He made a mistake."
She landed gently on the ground about twenty feet from him. Close enough to engage. Far enough to give him space. The psychological profile Tyson had provided aligned with what she was observing. Beneath the rage was something almost childlike. Something that wanted to be understood.
"Hulk smash metal man." He took a step forward. The ground trembled beneath his weight.
"You could go after him." Karla surprised him with her candor, watching his expression shift. "You're strong enough to smash just about anything."
The Hulk paused. Waiting. Listening.
Karla took a careful step closer. Close enough now that she could see the individual pores in his green skin, smell the concrete dust clinging to him mixed with something organic and wild. Her heart hammered in her chest, pulse visible in her throat. Every instinct screamed at her to activate her intangibility, to put distance between herself and this creature.
But she kept her voice steady. Kept her expression open. This was just another session. Another patient who needed understanding, not fear.
"But right now, there are people who need that strength to help them, not hurt them."
She gestured toward the sky where Chitauri speeders streaked between buildings, firing indiscriminately. A Leviathan could be seen in the distance, its massive form barreling down an avenue. Screams echoed from somewhere to the north. The city was burning, and they were wasting time when the real enemy was everywhere around them.
"Those are the ones who should be afraid of you. Not us."
The Hulk followed her gaze, watching the alien invaders. His focus shifted from Vanko to the Chitauri. A new target presenting itself, something that made sense to his simple worldview. Bad things that needed smashing.
"They're hurting many people. They want to take over our world." Another step closer. Now she had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes. He could reach out and grab her right now. Squeeze until there was nothing left. The thought made her mouth go dry, but she pushed through it. "This is your home too. And you can protect it better than almost anyone."
The Hulk looked down at her. Studying her with an intensity that would have sent most people running. Those eyes weren't mindless. There was intelligence there, even if it was buried under layers of rage and trauma. Something evaluating. Deciding.
Karla Sofen had spent years analyzing the human psyche, understanding what drove people to their breaking points and how to pull them back. She was betting everything on Tyson's assessment. The Hulk was an extreme case, yes. But the principles remained the same. Everyone wanted to be seen. To be understood. To have their strength recognized not as a curse but as something valuable.
She raised her hand slowly, palm up. A gesture of peace. Connection. An offering without expectation.
"I know what it's like to find purpose in using your strength." Her voice softened, became more personal. Not therapist to patient but one person to another. "Those aliens up there, they need to learn to fear the Hulk. Not the people down here."
The moment stretched. Karla could feel her pulse in her throat, could hear the blood rushing in her ears. One wrong move and she'd be paste on the pavement. But she held her ground. Held his gaze. Let him see that she wasn't afraid of him. That she saw him as more than just a monster. That she understood he was trying, in his own way, to protect the only thing Banner had ever created that couldn't be taken away.
The Hulk's breathing slowed. The rage visibly receding from his expression, replaced by something closer to determination. He looked at her outstretched hand, then back at her face. For a heartbeat, she thought he might take it. Might accept that simple gesture of connection.
Instead, he spoke. Two words that carried the weight of a promise.
"Hulk protect."
Relief flooded through Karla, though she kept her expression calm. Professional. "Yes. Hulk protect."
Without warning, the Hulk leaped past her. The force of his jump created a small crater in the already damaged street, loose debris flying outward. He soared upward, intercepting a passing Chitauri speeder and tearing it apart mid-air. The alien screamed as the Hulk used its body as a projectile, hurling it into another speeder with devastating accuracy.
Karla watched him go with a satisfied smile. She activated her comm. "Hulk is now engaged with the Chitauri. Threat neutralized and redirected."
"Impressive work, Doctor," Maria Hill responded. "I didn't think that was possible."
"Sometimes understanding is more effective than force. Tyson's psychological profile was spot on. The Hulk isn't just mindless rage. He's a protective entity with the emotional regulation of a child. He responds to respect and clear purpose."
"In Russia, we would have used tanks," Vanko said, Wednesday having added him to the larger comm channel.
"And how many tanks would you have needed?"
Vanko considered this, then shrugged inside his armor. "Many tanks. Very many."
"Dr. Sofen, Mr. Vanko, Chitauri forces are converging on the evacuation route along Park Avenue," Wednesday interrupted. "Civilians are trapped between 42nd and 46th Streets."
They soared eastward, leaving behind the redirected Hulk as he continued his rampage against the Chitauri, now a force of destruction aimed precisely where it was needed most.
— Rogue Redemption —
Max Dillon soared through the smoke-filled sky, electricity crackling around his body as he navigated between damaged buildings. Below him, civilians streamed into the Grand Central Station shelter. He'd been guiding them to safety, but now Tyson needed him elsewhere.
Max banked sharply, then accelerated upward toward Stark Tower, its distinctive architecture rising above the chaos.
At the pinnacle stood Thor, red cape billowing as he surveyed the battlefield, Mjolnir in hand.
Max landed on the edge of the platform, his body still humming with electrical energy. Despite the dire circumstances, he couldn't help the flutter of excitement at working alongside an actual god. Thor. The Thor. Standing right there.
"Mr. Odinson! Tyson sent me to help you hold the portal."
Thor turned, blue eyes assessing Max with a warrior's gaze. A smile broke across his face, transforming his stern expression into something warm and welcoming.
"It's a battle, my friend. There is more than enough to go around."
The sky darkened as Thor raised Mjolnir high. Clouds swirled and gathered, responding to his command. The air crackled with potential energy, making the hair on Max's arms stand on end, making his own power respond in sympathy.
A massive bolt of lightning streaked down from the heavens, connecting with Mjolnir in a blinding flash. Thor pivoted, directing the concentrated energy toward the portal just as another Leviathan emerged.
The lightning struck the creature with devastating force. The Leviathan convulsed, alien flesh charring as electricity coursed through its massive body. It plummeted toward the streets below, dead before it hit the ground.
Max watched in awe, his mouth slightly open. That was power. Real power. The kind he'd only dreamed about.
Then understanding dawned like a switch flipping in his brain.
"That's why Tyson sent me. It has to be." He hovered forward, electricity dancing between his fingertips, his heart hammering with equal parts excitement and terror. "Hit me with one of those."
Thor's eyebrows rose. "Are you certain?"
"Yes." Max nodded firmly. His hands were shaking, but not from fear. From anticipation. From the knowledge that this moment would change everything. "The biggest you can."
Thor studied him for a moment, then smiled. A warrior's smile. One that said he understood exactly what Max was asking for.
Thor raised Mjolnir once more, but this time pointed it toward Max.
The sky responded immediately. Clouds darkened to an ominous pitch black, swirling faster as they gathered more energy. The air became heavy with potential, a pressure that made ears pop and skin tingle. Max could feel it building, feel the storm recognizing him as kin, as something that belonged to it.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself, every nerve ending already firing in anticipation.
The lightning bolt that struck him was massive.
Not channeled through Mjolnir but directed straight from the heavens. It connected with Max in a blinding flash that momentarily outshone everything else in the battle, turning the world white and gold and electric blue.
Power flooded through him.
Every cell in his body ignited at once. It wasn't pain. It was transcendence. It was becoming. Energy beyond anything he'd ever experienced, raw and ancient and alive, poured into him like he was a vessel that had been waiting his entire life to be filled. His nervous system lit up like a circuit board, pathways he didn't know existed suddenly blazing with current, new connections forming faster than thought. He felt his cells charging, absorbing energy at a rate that should have killed him, that should have burned him to ash, but instead made him feel more alive than ever before.
The lightning didn't hurt.
It sang.
It roared through his veins like music, like poetry, like every beautiful thing he'd never had words for. This was what he was meant for. This was what his body had been designed to hold. All those years designing power plants, that accident, meeting heroes, and having fears and moments of losing control; all the training had been leading to this. To standing on top of a tower with a god and accepting power that would have destroyed anyone else.
He threw his head back and laughed, pure joy bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest. The lightning coursed through him, around him, became him. He was the storm. He was the flash before the thunder. He was electricity given human form.
When it finally faded, Max glowed like a beacon in the darkened sky, pulsing with brilliant blue-white energy. Electricity arced between his fingers and danced across his skin in patterns that looked almost alive. He looked down at his hands in wonder. He could see the energy flowing through his veins like luminescent blood, feel it waiting to be unleashed, eager and ready and infinite.
"I feel incredible." The words were inadequate. He felt like he could light up the entire city. He felt like he could fly to the sun and back. He felt invincible. "I feel..."
He couldn't finish. There were no words.
Above them, the portal rippled as two more Leviathans pushed through, their massive bodies twisting as they entered Earth's atmosphere.
Without hesitation, Max thrust both arms forward.
Twin streams of lightning erupted from his hands, each striking one of the massive creatures. The power flowing through him was unlike anything he'd ever channeled before. Pure, concentrated, devastating. It felt effortless, like breathing, like his body had always been meant to conduct this much energy. More than that. Like it had been starving for it.
The Leviathans convulsed under the assault, armored hides blackening as electricity found every weak point, every gap in their defenses. They thrashed in midair, movements becoming erratic before they began to fall, smoke pouring from their bodies.
Max maintained the connection, pouring more power into them, ensuring the creatures were thoroughly destroyed before they could reach the ground. When he finally released the energy, the Leviathans crashed into the streets as smoking husks, completely neutralized.
Thor watched with obvious approval, something like pride in his expression.
"Well struck!" He clapped Max on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a normal human.
Max couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, wide and genuine and probably ridiculous-looking. He was fighting alongside Thor. Channeling the power of a god. Destroying alien monsters with lightning. If someone had told him a year ago this would be his life, he would have laughed. Now he was living it.
"Valravn was right to send you." Thor scanned the skies for their next targets. "Together, we shall ensure none of these beasts reach the ground."
Above them, the portal pulsed with ominous energy as more Chitauri forces emerged.
"Ready for another round?" Electricity crackled between Max's palms, eager to be released again.
Thor twirled Mjolnir, summoning more storm clouds. "Always."
The sky darkened further as both men prepared to unleash their combined might against the next wave of invaders. For the first time since the battle began, Max felt more than hopeful. He felt powerful. He felt like he belonged. With literal gods fighting beside him, perhaps they really could win this impossible fight.
— Rogue Redemption —
The swarm of metal surrounding Tyson shifted and condensed as he hovered above Bryant Park. The Chitauri were spreading through the city like a virus, and despite the team's efforts, more continued pouring through.
He needed to end this, not just contain it.
Closing the portal meant using Loki's Scepter, like Natasha had done in the movie. The problem was he'd taken the Mind Stone out. It was in his necklace now, and he didn't know if it could be used the same way. That left him with four options.
Option 1: Try barebacking the Mind Stone again and hold out long enough to shut down the portal. Aka the dumb choice.
Option 2: Get the scepter, put the Mind Stone back in, and use it to close the portal.
Option 3: Put the Mind Stone into another weapon. His sword Nexus was a likely candidate, given it enhanced psionic abilities, but he worried about putting the Mind Stone into a weapon bound to his soul. Its influence might leak out like it did with the scepter, and who knew how that would affect his soul. Aka the second dumb choice.
Option 4: Use a different Infinity Stone. The Tesseract was powering the portal itself, so that was out. The only other Infinity Stone on Earth was the Time Stone, in possession of the Ancient One.
The New York Sanctum was in the village. In Endgame, the Ancient One was on the roof during the time heist, fighting the Chitauri. Now, with his intervention, the Sanctum shouldn't be in the Chitauri's range. It was south of the Flatiron Armory, and the sentinel line at House of M should be holding them.
"Change of plans," he said. "I'm heading to the village to get more help."
"What about containment?" Fury asked.
"I have an idea for closing the portal. That needs to take priority. I'll sweep on the way back uptown if I can."
"What, you got a craving for some authentic Italian food in the middle of an alien invasion?" Tony joked. "The cannoli at Ferrara's isn't going anywhere, kid."
Tyson didn't laugh. He adjusted his trajectory, the metal swarm reshaping as he accelerated southward.
"I need to speak with the Ancient One. She has something that might help us close the portal."
"The Ancient who?" Cap asked.
"She's the Sorcerer Supreme. You met her at the private showing of Logan's story."
"You think her powers can get through the barrier?" Natasha's voice came sharp with realization.
"Exactly." Tyson dispatched a stray Chitauri chariot, the alien metal tearing apart and joining his swarm. "She might be able to close the portal if we can't use the scepter."
As he flew south, the devastation became less severe. The Chitauri hadn't yet reached this far downtown in force. He dispatched occasional stragglers, barely slowing.
"Wednesday? What's downtown look like?"
"Current scans show minimal Chitauri activity. The House of M defensive line appears to be holding at 25th Street."
"Good. At least something's going according to plan."
As he passed Washington Square Park, Tyson could see the distinctive circular window of the Sanctum Sanctorum. Unlike the chaos uptown, this area was eerily quiet.
"I've reached the Sanctum. Going radio silent for a few minutes while I speak with the Ancient One."
"Make it quick," Fury ordered. "We're losing ground uptown."
Tyson landed on the steps, the swarm of metal hovering around him like a protective cloud. Before he could knock, the door swung open. A bald woman in yellow robes stood in the doorway, her serene expression at odds with the apocalyptic battle raging miles north.
"Tyson Smith." The Ancient One's voice came calm and measured. "I've been expecting you. I know why you're here. The question is whether you understand what you're asking."
"I think I do." He followed her inside. The door closed, shutting out the distant sounds of battle. "I need to use the Time Stone to close the portal."
She led him through the ornate interior, past artifacts and relics of immense power. "The Time Stone is not a tool to be used lightly. It is one of the most powerful forces in our universe."
"I've already held the Mind Stone. I know what I'm getting into."
The Ancient One stopped and turned, eyes piercing. "Do you?" She reached up and touched the amulet hanging from her neck. The Eye of Agamotto. "I cannot simply hand it over, even in these circumstances."
"Then use it yourself. Come with me to the portal. Help us end this invasion before more people die."
She studied him for a long moment, and something in her expression shifted. Almost resigned. "I will not accompany you." Turning toward the hallway, she said, "But she will."
The sound of boots clicking against hardwood preceded Illyana's appearance. Her blonde hair fell in waves around her shoulders. Blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and the scent of brimstone and lilac wafted through the air.
She wore her adamantium armor with the Soulsword strapped across her back.
"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you," Illyana said, her Russian accent thick with playful exasperation, "he's not my boyfriend."
Relief flooded through Tyson at the sight of a familiar face. Someone he trusted. Someone who could actually help turn this fight. His shoulders dropped from the tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying, and for the first time since the portal opened, he felt like they might actually pull this off.
"Lyana," He coughed into his hand to hide the grin. "Oh, it's so nice to see you again. But we don't have much time. Option 4 is out, so we have to pick another one. Let's go!"
"Why do I get the feeling Option 4 was the most reasonable option?"