Chapter 132
Avengers
Arc 8 - Ch 24: The Sacrifice Play
Saturday, May 05, 2012.
Location: Midtown Manhattan, New York
Edgar Lascombe sat at the head of the conference table, addressing the Marchand Pharmaceutical board members. Quarterly projections filled the screen behind him, showing impressive growth across all divisions.
"As you can see, our new arthritis medication has exceeded market expectations by seventeen percent," he said. "R&D has already begun phase three trials on—"
The double doors burst open. His administrative assistant, Vanessa Klein, rushed in, her usual composure shattered.
"Mr. Lascombe, there's an emergency. A portal has opened above Stark Tower. Aliens are pouring out and attacking the city."
The board members exchanged confused glances, several reaching for their phones.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Bernard Worthington, the elderly CFO, asked.
Vanessa grabbed the remote and switched to a live news feed. The boardroom fell silent. Footage showed a swirling blue vortex above Stark Tower. Strange armored creatures on flying vehicles streamed through, firing energy weapons at buildings and civilians.
"My God," Janet Cho whispered.
"Meeting adjourned," Lascombe said. "Everyone get to safety immediately. Follow building evacuation protocols."
The room erupted. Board members gathered tablets and papers, some already calling family. Security personnel appeared at the doorway, ready to escort them out.
"Vanessa, stay."
She remained by his side, tablet in hand, blonde hair pulled back in a perfect chignon that hadn't moved despite her rush.
Through the conference room windows, smoke rose from several buildings. In the distance, a massive serpentine creature floated between skyscrapers.
A voice suddenly filled Lascombe's head, calm but authoritative. Mirage. The mutant from House of M.
"Attention, citizens of New York. This is an emergency broadcast. Proceed immediately to the nearest shelter location. Shelters are located at..."
The voice listed locations throughout the city. Lascombe committed them to memory automatically.
"Look for individuals from House of M. They will guide you to safety. Remain calm. Help is here."
He turned to Vanessa. "Options?"
Without hesitation, she swiped through her tablet. "The nearest House of M shelter is six blocks south. Our helicopter is fueled and ready on the roof. Traffic is gridlocked on all major avenues. I've already instructed security to prepare your armored vehicle."
"Satellite status?"
"All operational. We have eyes on ninety-seven percent of the conflict zone." She handed him the tablet, showing multiple camera feeds. One tracked Iron Man weaving between buildings, blasting alien craft from the sky.
"Current assessment?"
She pulled up another screen. "Iron Man and House of M forces have established a perimeter. They're keeping the skies clear around our building for now, but the situation is deteriorating rapidly. The portal continues to widen."
A massive explosion rocked a building three blocks away. The windows vibrated with the concussion.
"The helicopter, then."
"Already running, sir. She's standing by."
Lascombe walked to the window. A squadron of metallic sentinels, clearly House of M technology, engaged a group of alien craft, firing energy beams that cut through the invaders.
"Interesting," he murmured. "House of M has been busy."
"Very," Vanessa agreed. "Their technological advancement curve has exceeded our projections by nearly thirty percent."
Another explosion, closer this time. The building trembled.
"We should move, sir."
He nodded, but his secure phone vibrated before he could respond. The display showed an encrypted group call from five different numbers he immediately recognized.
"The Council," he said.
"I'll give you privacy."
"No, stay. Guide me to the copter."
He accepted the call, activating the holographic display. Five figures appeared, their features obscured by darkness; the other heads of HYDRA.
"Lascombe," the central figure said, voice digitally altered. "Report on the New York situation."
"Alien invasion in progress. Origin appears to be a portal above Stark Tower. Stark and the House of M mutant Mirage are coordinating defense efforts."
"And the Tesseract?"
"Likely the power source for the portal," another voice added. "The Tesseract was stolen from SHIELD."
"This changes our timeline."
The shadowy figures erupted into debate, their voices overlapping.
"This is an opportunity," one insisted. "With SHIELD and these so-called heroes distracted, we can accelerate Project Insight."
"Foolish. If these aliens conquer Earth, our plans become irrelevant. We should deploy our assets to assist in the defense."
"And expose ourselves? Decades of infiltration jeopardized for what? To save a few city blocks?"
Lascombe listened as Vanessa guided him toward the executive elevator, her hand lightly on his elbow. The building shuddered as another explosion rocked nearby structures. Emergency lights flashed in the hallway.
"Our primary concern should be the Tesseract," a fourth voice said. "If it falls into the wrong hands—"
"It's already in the wrong hands. The question is how major an obstale these aliens represent."
Vanessa pulled out her phone and spoke quietly as they entered the elevator. "Confirm rooftop ready for arrival..."
"The Winter Soldier is in position in DC," the central figure said. "We could redirect him to New York."
"Too valuable an asset to risk in an uncertain scenario. Besides, the alien threat appears contained to Manhattan for now. He can't fight a battle on his own."
The elevator ascended smoothly. Vanessa checked her tablet, swiping through security feeds showing the building's evacuation progress.
"What about Mirage himself? Can he provide intelligence on House of M's defensive capabilities?"
"Communication blackout," Lascombe lied. "Mirage and his people are fully engaged in containment."
The elevator opened to the executive floor. Two security personnel in tactical gear waited, submachine guns at the ready.
"Sir," one nodded. "The situation is deteriorating. We need to move quickly."
They formed a protective formation around Lascombe and Vanessa. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, smoke rose from dozens of locations. In the distance, a man seemed to summon lightning from a clear sky, striking a cluster of alien craft.
"The council has reached a decision," the central figure announced as they moved toward the stairwell. "Lascombe, you have twenty minutes to evacuate the Manhattan containment zone."
"Twenty minutes? May I ask what happens after that window?"
"Contingency protocol Omega. The World Security Council will be discussing measures imminently."
Vanessa's eyes widened slightly, indicating she understood the implications. Contingency protocol Omega meant a tactical nuclear strike on Manhattan.
"Understood," Lascombe said. "I'll ensure all valuable assets are extracted."
"See that you do. The loss of Manhattan is regrettable but acceptable if it contains the alien threat. HYDRA has invested too much in the future to allow an extraterrestrial invasion to derail our plans."
They reached the roof access door. One security guard checked the exterior camera feed before nodding and pushing it open. The roar of helicopter rotors immediately filled the stairwell.
"Evacuate, Lascombe. After that, Manhattan becomes a cautionary tale in our new world order."
The call terminated. Lascombe pocketed his phone and stepped onto the rooftop helipad.
The full scale of the invasion became immediately apparent. The sky above Stark Tower pulsed with unearthly blue energy, the portal a dark wound above the clouds. Alien craft continued to emerge. Several buildings were ablaze, and columns of black smoke rose into the clear spring sky. Explosions provided a constant backdrop to the chaos.
The corporate helicopter waited, rotors already spinning, the Marchand Pharmaceutical logo emblazoned on the side.
Lascombe paused, taking in the scene. A massive worm-like creature emerged from the portal, slowly descending toward the streets. In the distance, Iron Man intercepted it with a barrage of missiles, looking tiny against the creature's enormous bulk.
"Sir," Vanessa urged, gesturing toward the helicopter. "We need to depart immediately."
He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the portal above Stark Tower. The swirling vortex seemed to be growing larger. More alien craft poured through, their energy weapons leaving trails of destruction across the Manhattan skyline.
As they crossed the threshold onto the roof and headed for the chopper, an alien craft passed overhead. Suddenly, an aliens leapt down, dropping nearly thirty feet to land on the helipad. Their vehicles kept moving. The aliens straightened to their full height, nearly seven feet tall, wearing armored exoskeletons.
"Contact!" one security guard shouted, raising his submachine gun.
The aliens raised their own weapons; strange, rifle-like devices. Both sides opened fire.
The security personnel unleashed a barrage of bullets, rapid-fire weapons chattering. The aliens responded with energy weapons that discharged bolts of searing blue light.
One guard took a direct hit to the chest. The energy bolt punched through his tactical vest as if it were paper, leaving a smoking, cauterized hole. He collapsed without a sound.
An alien staggered backward as bullets tore through its armor, dark fluid spraying from the wounds. It fired wildly as it fell, the energy bolt striking the second guard in the face. The man's features melted away in an instant, leaving an unrecognizable mass.
The remaining combatants continued their exchange, neither side finding cover on the open helipad. Energy bolts crossed paths with bullets. The helicopter pilot ducked low in the cockpit.
Lascombe pulled Vanessa behind an air conditioning unit, the only available cover. They crouched low as energy bolts sizzled overhead, leaving scorch marks on the concrete.
"Stay down," he ordered calmly.
The firefight intensified. One guard managed to drop an alien with a well-placed burst to what appeared to be its throat, dark fluid spurt from between the plates of its armor. Another energy bolt struck the third guard in the abdomen, burning through flesh and bone. His scream cut short as a second bolt took him in the chest. His body crumpled, smoke rising from the charred wounds. The last guard emptied his magazine into the final alien, bullets pinging off armor until one found a gap near what might have been a joint. The creature made a high-pitched keening sound before collapsing, its weapon discharging one final time. The bolt caught the guard under the chin, vaporizing his jaw and continuing upward. He stood for a moment before toppling backward.
Silence fell across the helipad, broken only by the steady thrum of helicopter rotors and distant battle sounds.
Four security personnel and three aliens lay motionless on the rooftop.
"Unfortunate," Lascombe remarked, straightening his tie as he rose.
Vanessa emerged from cover and walked purposefully toward one of the fallen aliens. She knelt beside it, examining its weapon with professional curiosity. The device was unlike anything human-made, with organic curves blending seamlessly into technological components, glowing with an internal blue light.
She turned the weapon over in her hands. Lascombe watched with mild interest, seemingly unconcerned about the delay.
Vanessa rose, holding the alien weapon. She glanced at the fallen security personnel, their bodies horribly disfigured. Where the bolts had struck, flesh had not just been burned; the guards were left almost unrecognizable. One man's face had collapsed inward, features running together like melted wax. Another's torso displayed a perfect, cauterized hole.
"I appreciate your initiative, Vanessa," Lascombe said, "but we need to get to the helicopter."
She joined him, still carrying the weapon.
When they reached the helicopter, Vanessa stepped ahead and opened the door for him. Lascombe moved to enter but froze mid-step.
A beautiful Japanese woman sat at the controls, her dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her expression coolly professional. She wore the standard pilot uniform, but Lascombe recognized her immediately.
"What are you doing here, Maki?"
Maki Matsumoto had been his associate until Mirage had taken her from him. She didn't answer. She simply stared back and smiled with a sharp, knowing expression that sent ice through his veins.
Lascombe turned to Vanessa.
The blonde woman's skin rippled like water. Her hair retracted into her scalp before sprouting again in vibrant red. Her fair complexion darkened to a rich blue, textured like fine scales. Her eyes morphed from hazel to a striking yellow. Her entire frame shifted, bones and muscle rearranging beneath the skin in a fluid motion that should have been impossible.
The transformation took only seconds, but Lascombe felt each one stretch out. His assistant, the woman who had been by his side for months, who knew every detail of his operations, every secret meeting, every encrypted communication, had never existed at all.
The woman who stood before him was no longer Vanessa Klein. She was a mutant, undoubtedly one of Mirage's operatives.
"You're one of his freaks," he said flatly. The resignation in his voice surprised even him. He didn't bother reaching for a weapon. The security team lay dead on the rooftop, and he knew what Maki was capable of. There was no escape from this.
Mystique didn't waste a word.
The energy bolt struck Lascombe directly in the face before he could draw another breath. His expression remained frozen in understanding for a fraction of a second, eyes wide, mouth just beginning to form words that would never come, before the energy consumed everything. Flesh, bone, and brain matter vaporized instantly, leaving a cauterized stump where his head had been. The smell of burned meat and ozone filled the air. His body remained upright briefly, a macabre puppet with cut strings, before collapsing to the helipad with a heavy thud.
Mystique stepped over the body without ceremony. She knelt beside it, her blue fingers rifled through his jacket. She extracted his wallet, security badges, and most importantly, his personal phone. She checked the device briefly, confirming it was intact, before pocketing everything.
Standing again, her body rippled once more. This time, her entire form shifted and reshaped. She grew taller, broader in the shoulders. Her blue skin paled to match Lascombe's complexion. Her red hair receded and darkened. Within seconds, an exact duplicate of Edgar Lascombe stood on the helipad.
She climbed into the helicopter beside Maki, settling into the passenger seat. As she slipped on the headphones, already beginning to adopt Lascombe's precise posture and mannerisms, Maki turned to her with a slight smile. The Japanese woman's eyes gleamed with dark humor.
"Hail, Hydra," Maki said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Mystique rolled her eyes. "No time to joke. We have a problem. They're going to nuke the city."
— Rogue Redemption —
Loki's body hurtled through the air, Mjolnir pressed against his chest like an anvil. The magical hammer propelled him away from Stark Tower with the force of a jet engine, his limbs flailing helplessly as Manhattan blurred beneath him. Wind tore at his armor and hair.
He crashed into a small park, carving a crater into the manicured lawn. Dirt and grass exploded around him as his body created an impression in the earth. Pain radiated through every inch of him, but he couldn't move. Mjolnir rested squarely on his chest, pinning him like an insect in a collection.
Loki stared up at the sky, watching Chitauri vessels streak across the blue expanse. Battle sounds echoed in the distance; explosions, screams, the distinctive whine of alien technology. His army was here, yet he was trapped in this humiliating position, unable to lead them.
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Mjolnir suddenly lifted from his chest, responding to its master's call. The hammer shot skyward. He was free to move, yet he remained motionless in the crater. His body ached, but his pride suffered the deeper wound.
"Mirage," he whispered, the name bitter on his tongue.
The mortal had lifted Mjolnir. A Midgardian had proven worthy of Asgard's greatest weapon when he, a prince of Asgard, could not. The memory of his own failed attempts flashed through his mind, each one a fresh cut. And worse, Odin had elevated the man, bestowing upon him a title and status that should have been reserved for Asgardians alone.
Valravn.
The thought made his teeth clench until his jaw ached. First Thor, always Thor, and now this mortal stood above him in Odin's esteem. Though if they were to be believed, he was mortal no longer. Which was hardly a balm to his pride.
He finally pushed himself to a sitting position, wincing as his ribs protested. His armor was dented and scraped, his cape torn. He had no weapon, his scepter left behind at Stark Tower, his dagger claimed by Mirage on the Rainbow Bridge. He was lying in a ditch in some insignificant patch of greenery in this wretched city.
But the Chitauri were here. The invasion had begun. He needed to return, to regain control, to ensure Angela and Sterns stayed on task. His plans could still succeed if he moved quickly.
As Loki prepared to stand, the air several paces from his crater shimmered. The familiar gold and green glow of Asgardian magic formed a perfect circle, spinning with runes and symbols.
His eyes narrowed as Amora the Enchantress stepped through the portal.
Her long blonde hair flowed around her as though caught in an invisible breeze, her striking green eyes immediately finding him in his undignified position. Power radiated from her like heat from a flame. Her lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she approached the crater's edge.
"My, my," she purred, her voice musical and dangerous. "The mighty Loki, once Steward of Asgard's throne, has fallen so low."
Loki's jaw tightened. He and Amora had a complex history. Allies at times, rivals at others. Her presence here, now, was no coincidence.
He finally stood, brushing dirt from his armor with as much dignity as he could muster. He straightened to his full height, refusing to appear weak before her.
"The Tesseract and the Scepter have shown me much," he said. "Including the path to my rightful throne."
"And that path required the assistance of these..." Amora glanced skyward at a passing Chitauri chariot. "Creatures?"
"They serve their purpose. As all will serve when I rule this realm."
Amora circled the crater slowly. "And what of Asgard? Does the golden realm not call to you anymore?"
"Asgard will follow once Midgard kneels."
"Always so ambitious. It's what I've always admired about you, Loki."
He studied her carefully. Amora never appeared without purpose, never engaged without an agenda. Her presence here was calculated, her timing precise.
"You aligned yourself with the mortal. Now my army has arrived to take over his world, and yet you still mock me." He paused. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here, Amora?"
She looked toward Stark Tower where the portal continued to spill Chitauri into the sky. "Perhaps I missed our conversations. Perhaps I wished to see your grand conquest firsthand."
"Or perhaps Odin sent you. Another of his pawns to bring the wayward son to heel."
Amora laughed. "Yes, of course, it was that. How could I forget? In the time since you left Asgard, I stood as protector of this realm, and Odin rewarded me for my service, then tasked me with your return. Why would I stop now?"
Loki stepped out of the crater. "You think being deemed goddess of beauty makes you a match for the god of mischief?" he sneered.
Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. "No. Being the most accomplished sorceress in Asgard is what makes me a match for the god of mischief."
He was without a weapon. His eyes narrowed, calculating his options in the heartbeat before he made his decision. With a snarl, he lunged for her, fingers outstretched to grasp her throat. Amora didn't flinch. She simply stomped her foot against the ground, her eyes flashing with emerald power. A wall of stone erupted from the earth between them, forcing him to pull up short.
"Your tricks are predictable," he spat, backing away from the wall.
Amora opened her hand, palm facing the barrier. The wall cracked and splintered, chunks breaking free and firing toward him like missiles. Each piece whistled through the air, only to pass harmlessly through his body, his image flickering like a disturbed reflection.
An illusion.
The real Loki materialized beyond the wall, directly in front of her. His movement was fluid, practiced, the culmination of centuries of combat training. He landed a heavy blow to her face, his fist connecting with her jaw.
Amora fell to the ground, her blonde hair spilling across the dirt. Blood ran from the corner of her mouth, staining her perfect skin.
Loki stood over her, triumph gleaming in his eyes. "You forget who taught you many of your tricks, Enchantress. Hope that bruise doesn't mar your perfect beauty."
The victory was short-lived.
Something massive slammed into him from behind, a hammer blow that felt like Mjolnir all over again. The impact sent him flying forward. He hit the ground hard, breath knocked from his lungs, stars exploding behind his eyes.
He rolled onto his back, gasping for air, expecting to see Thor. What he saw instead was the wall wasn't a wall at all. It was an earth elemental. A massive humanoid figure composed entirely of stone and soil. One of its boulder-like fists was still extended from the punch it had delivered to his back.
"You forget," Amora said, rising gracefully and wiping blood from her lip, "that I have learned many tricks from many of Asgard's mystics."
Loki tried to stand, but the ground beneath him shifted and softened. What had been solid earth moments before was rapidly transforming into thick, clinging mud that pulled at his limbs like hungry hands. He struggled against it, but each movement only sank him deeper.
This wasn't normal mud; it was enchanted to hold even an Asgardian. The more he fought, the more it enveloped him, cold and unyielding.
"Release me!" he demanded as the mud reached his waist.
Amora approached, careful to stay on solid ground. The earth elemental lumbered behind her like an obedient pet. "I think not. You've caused quite enough trouble for one day."
His eyes darted around, searching for escape. The mud continued to claim him, inch by inch. "The Chitauri will overrun your precious mortal allies. This realm will fall, with or without my direct guidance."
"Doubtful," she conceded, crouching down to meet his gaze. "But Odin has commanded your return, and I intend to deliver you after the battle is won."
He laughed bitterly. "And you believe yourself capable of subduing me? You've grown arrogant, Amora."
She stood, brushing invisible dust from her attire. "I've grown powerful, Loki. There's a difference."
With a gesture, the earth elemental moved to stand guard. Loki continued to struggle against his muddy prison, but the enchanted earth only tightened its grip, now reaching his chest.
"While you've been plotting in the shadows with your alien allies, I've been honing my craft."
His face contorted with rage. "You align yourself with these mortals against me? Against your own kind?"
"I align myself with those who show wisdom. And in this matter, Loki, you have shown none."
The mud crept higher, reaching his neck. His struggles became more desperate, his eyes wild with fury and perhaps fear at the realization that he might truly be outmatched.
"When I free myself, and I will free myself, you will regret this betrayal," he hissed.
Amora smiled, the expression both beautiful and terrible. "I've betrayed no one. I serve Asgard, as I always have. And you… You might want to save your breath."
— Rogue Redemption —
Nick Fury faced the viewscreen displaying the World Security Council members.
"This is out of line, Director. You're dealing with forces you can't control."
Fury's eye narrowed. "Have you ever been in a war, Councilman? In a firefight? Did you feel an overabundance of control?"
The council member's jaw tightened. "You saying that this Asgard has declared war on our planet?"
"Not Asgard. Loki."
"The Avengers Initiative was shut down."
"This isn't about The Avengers."
"We're running the world's greatest covert security network, and you're gonna leave the fate of the human race to a handful of freaks," the councilman spat.
"I'm not leaving anything to anyone," Fury countered. "We needed a response team, and I believe they're exactly what we need."
A female Council Member leaned forward. "You believe?"
"War isn't won by sentiment, Director," the first Councilman added.
Fury's expression hardened. "No, it's won by soldiers." He gestured to a nearby screen showing the battle in New York. "Turn on your televisions. We're holding the line."
Maria Hill approached. "Sir, the Chitauri numbers are still increasing. Our team is fighting hard, but—"
"They'll hold," Fury said with conviction, though his expression betrayed a flicker of concern.
On another monitor, they could see Thor's lightning along with a glowing blue man from House of M tearing through a Leviathan. Iron Man flew between buildings, leading Chitauri away from civilians. Captain America coordinated ground efforts while Wolverine carved through alien footsoldiers.
The council members conferred briefly off-screen before the Councilwoman spoke again. "Director Fury, the council has made a decision."
"I recognize the council has made a decision, but given that it's likely a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it."
The Councilman leaned forward. "Director, you're closer than any of our subs, you scramble that jet..."
"I'm not just closer than your subs," Fury interrupted sharply. "We're over the East River, councilman. If you're not familiar with the island of Manhattan, we're above the United Nations building, protecting it. Less than a mile from the portal." His voice dropped to a dangerous timbre. "Until I'm certain my team can't hold it, I will not order a nuclear strike against a civilian population. We're talking a death count in the millions from the blast, and potentially tens of millions within the lethal fallout radius."
"Director, we've received updates. We've regained contact with Tyson. He's attempting to close the portal. Loki has been encountered," Phil Coulson added from the doorway.
Fury nodded slightly, not taking his eye off the council.
"If we don't hold them in New York, we lose everything," the Councilman insisted.
"If I send that bird out, we already have," Fury countered. "Agent Mirage is already enacting a plan to close the portal."
On a secondary screen, technicians tracked Tyson's progress at Stark Tower. Another showed Amora engaged with Loki.
Maria Hill added, "Sir, House of M reports successful evacuation of civilians to underground shelters. The sentinels are holding a northern perimeter at the southern tip of Central Park and just north of 24th street."
A third Council Member spoke up. "Director, our analysts give your team less than twenty minutes before they're overwhelmed. The portal continues to widen."
"I'll pass on the word to Agent Mirage that he needs to work quickly."
"What exactly is his plan?" the Councilwoman demanded.
"To do what you can't," Fury replied. "Save lives while closing that portal."
Coulson received an update through his earpiece. "Sir, we've lost contact with Mirage and the others at Stark Tower."
"Not unexpected. Keep me updated."
"This is reckless, Director," the Councilman warned. "If your team fails—"
"They won't," Fury stated with finality. "And until they do, the nuclear option remains off the table."
— Rogue Redemption —
Tyson stepped out of the Sanctum with Illyana at his side. The sounds of battle were far away, as they were south of the line drawn at the Flatiron Armory's House of M. Explosions, alien screeches, and what might have been the distant roar of the Hulk seemed a world away.
"We need to move." He scooped her into a bridal carry and opened his comms. "I know what I need to do to close the portal, but I'm not going to be able to do it alone. Anyone who can reach the top of Stark Tower that isn't currently engaged should meet me there."
Illyana's arms wrapped around his neck. "You have me."
Across the city, Natasha was breathing hard after her brutal fight with Angela. The Asgardian warrior was currently immobilized, wrapped in layers of webbing. Blood trickled from a cut on Natasha's lip as she looked to the portal in the sky. Another wave of Chitauri poured through. She gave one last look at the trapped Asgardian before turning uptown and swinging off for Stark Tower.
"I'm on my way."
Felicia's voice crackled through the communication system. "I've been coordinating the battle from the tunnels below Stark Tower. I'm coming."
"I was in position to protect the helicarrier," Dr. Sofen added, "but I can reach the tower in seconds."
"I need all the help I can get," Tyson said.
He took to the sky, not using his full speed, and still covered the distance in less than thirty seconds. The city blurred beneath them, smoke rising from buildings, fires raging unchecked, and civilians still trickling into the underground shelters his people had prepared.
On the way, he passed Natasha as she swung between buildings. Without slowing, he used his magnetism to scoop her up, pulling her into their flight.
"Fancy meeting you here," Natasha quipped.
Tyson managed a tight smile. "Thought you might appreciate the lift."
Felicia had just reached ground level as Tyson arrived at Stark Tower. She was pulled up under his power, her body rising smoothly through the air to join them.
"The sentinels are holding," she reported as she ascended.
The platform where Dr. Selvig had set up the device utilizing the Tesseract came into view. The scientist himself lay unconscious nearby, thrown clear when the portal initially opened. The machine hummed with otherworldly energy, a column of pure blue light shooting upward into the tear in reality.
As Tyson landed with Illyana, Natasha, and Felicia, Karla arrived just behind them, coming from the East, glowing with golden energy.
Tyson gently set them down. Around them, the battle for New York raged. Chitauri screechers flew past the tower, the Hulk's roars echoed between buildings, and lightning flashed as Thor and Max continued their assault.
Illyana pointed at Karla. "Another blonde? You can't help yourself, can you?"
Tyson groaned, but Natasha answered, "He can't. Now get to it, how do we close this?"
The four women stood loosely around Tyson and waited expectantly.
He spread out his hands. They all felt a tingle in the air, like static electricity dancing across their skin. The sounds of battle seemed to dim, creating a bubble of silence around them.
"I'm blocking communications," Tyson explained. "I don't want anyone to hear this." He gestured toward the machine where the Tesseract pulsed. "The Tesseract is powering the portal and the shield around it. For those who don't know, the Tesseract is an Infinity Stone, a source of near limitless power. Subsequently, the shield around it is almost unbreakable."
Felicia's eyes narrowed as she studied the blue energy field. "Almost?"
"The only way to counteract an Infinity Stone is to use a similar power source." Tyson reached for the necklace at his throat, the Amulet of Captured Thoughts that he and Amora had created. He held it up. "Inside this is another Infinity Stone. The Mind Stone." He paused. "I used it once before, and it's... not friendly." The words came out quieter than he intended. "It threatened me inside my head. Got into my thoughts, my memories. Promised me things." His hand tightened around the amulet until his knuckles went white. "I got the feeling that if I tried to use it again, things would go much worse."
Natasha crossed her arms. "Define 'much worse.'"
Tyson met her eyes. "It would try to take over my body. Use me as its vessel."
The silence that followed felt suffocating. Even with the distant sounds of battle, the bubble of quiet around them seemed to press in from all sides.
"That is so much worse," Felicia said, her voice rising slightly. She stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm, fingers curling against the fabric of his suit. The touch was warm, grounding. "There's not another way?"
The hope in her voice made his chest ache. He shook his head. "Unless any of you is hiding an Infinity Stone."
The brilliant white and gold shimmering around Karla dimmed as she stopped hovering and landed among the other women. "Okay, so a stone of infinite power will try to take over your mind." Her tone was clinical, professional, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. "We can handle this. We've been working on your mental health for months."
"You've fought mental battles before, against all the psyches in your head," Illyana added, moving closer to his other side. "If there's anyone prepared for this, it's you."
Tyson shook his head, more emphatically this time. The amulet felt heavy in his hand, heavier than it should. "I can't beat an Infinity Stone in a mental battle. It's the material manifestation of all the power of thought in the universe."
The realization seemed to hit them all at once. Illyana's face went pale. Felicia's grip on his arm tightened. Natasha's expression shifted from professional assessment to something rawer, more vulnerable. Even Karla looked horrified.
"So what do we do?" Natasha asked. "Why bring us here?"
Illyana cursed under her breath in Russian, the words harsh and guttural. "I think I know, and it's a stupid plan."
Tyson smiled despite everything. "So you're in?"
"Of course." Illyana moved to his side without hesitation. She placed her hand in his, her fingers intertwining with his own. Her palm was warm against his skin, and he could feel the faint tremor running through her. Not fear, but something deeper. The knowledge of what he was about to do, and the choice to stand with him anyway.
"I can't beat the Mind Stone in a mental battle," Tyson repeated, looking at each woman in turn. "But I don't have to. I just need to hold it off long enough to use it to close the portal."
Understanding dawned in Natasha's eyes. "Like the Guardians of the Galaxy you told me about? You need us to help spread out the load, just long enough to close the portal? Are you sure it'll work the same way with a different Infinity Stone?"
"No," he admitted.
Still, she stepped forward and placed her hand on top of Illyana's. Her expression was the face of a woman who had faced impossible odds before and survived, who had looked death in the eye and refused to blink. But there was something else there too, something softer. Trust. Absolute and unwavering.
Felicia moved next, placing her hand on top of Natasha's without a word.
Karla hesitated only briefly. "I don't know what the Guardians of the Galaxy are, but I'm with you," and she added her hand to the pile, resting it atop Felicia's. Despite having almost no idea what they were talking about, despite having known him for the shortest time, she trusted him.
The five of them stood there, connected by touch and purpose. The wind whipped around them, carrying the distant sounds of battle, the screams of Chitauri, the thunder of explosions. But within their circle, there was only resolve. Only this moment. Only them.
Tyson looked at their hands, one stacked upon another. These women, each one fierce and capable and brilliant in her own right, were choosing to anchor him. To fight for him. To hold the line against an Infinity Stone with him.
With his free hand, Tyson flipped open the Amulet of Captured Thoughts. The Mind Stone gleamed within, a brilliant yellow that seemed to pulse with awareness, with hunger. It knew he was coming. It had been waiting for this moment.
Without allowing himself a moment of doubt, he reached in and grasped the Mind Stone.
— Rogue Redemption —
The SHIELD Helicarrier hovered over the United Nations building. Several jets and quinjets flew in defensive positions nearby, their engines humming as they patrolled the airspace around the carrier.
A lone pilot sat in his cockpit on the flight deck, his fingers drumming nervously against the control panel. His plane was equipped with a nuclear warhead and should have been in storage, not on deck. But it had been prepped in secret. He adjusted his oxygen mask, checking his instruments one final time as sweat beaded on his forehead.
The radio crackled to life. "Director Fury is no longer in command. Override order, 7 Alpha 11."
The pilot hesitated for just a moment. "7 Alpha 11, confirmed. Prepare to take off."
He ignited his engine. Across the deck, another plane did the same. The jet shuddered beneath him as power surged through its systems.
Back in the helicarrier's bridge, Agent Hill's eyes widened as she noticed an anomaly on her monitor. She leaned forward, fingers flying across the screen.
"Sir, we have an unscheduled bird in motion!" Her voice cut through the controlled chaos of the bridge. She checked the registry and her blood ran cold. "Anyone on the deck, we have a rogue bird! We need to shut it down! Repeat, take off is not authorized!"
Fury spun around. "What the hell is happening on my flight deck?"
"Sir, unscheduled take off," Hill reported, her voice tight with urgency. "Nuclear capability."
Before anyone could interfere, the jet lifted off the deck. Almost simultaneously, the second jet also took to the skies. Both aircraft turned toward Manhattan, their deadly payloads locked and ready.
"Councilwoman, what have you done?" Fury growled into his comm.
"What's necessary, Director," came the cold reply. "The alien threat must be neutralized at any cost."
The jets both launched their payloads. After releasing their missiles, they turned away from the city and fired their afterburners, desperately trying to escape the blast radius.
On the bridge, technicians frantically tried to override the missile guidance systems, but the Council had locked them out. Fury watched the trajectory on the main screen.
"Stark, Tyson, anyone, you hearing me?" Nick Fury shouted desperately over the comms. "We have a pair of missiles headed straight for your tower. Nuclear. Total annihilation."
There was a moment of static before Tony's voice came through, unnaturally calm. "How long?"
"Twenty seconds."
Tony fired his repulsors, breaking away from the Chitauri he had been engaging.
"Jarvis, give me everything we've got."
"Sir, time to intercept the first missile, eight seconds," Jarvis replied. "We cannot collect both missiles. The second is approaching from a different vector."
Tony banked hard to the right, pushing his suit to its absolute limits. The skyscrapers of Manhattan blurred beneath him as he zeroed in on the first missile.
"Tyson!?" Tony called out, hoping the mutant could intercept the second missile.
Instead of Tyson, a different voice answered through his comm. "Communication was cut from Tyson," Wednesday reported.
Tony cursed under his breath as he closed in on the missile. His arms extended, fingers grasping for the sleek metal surface. The missile was moving fast, but the Iron Man suit was faster. His hands locked onto the warhead, and he immediately began adjusting his flight path, steering the missile upward toward the portal.
Through his peripheral vision, Tony spotted movement. Another suit had reached the second missile. The design was unfamiliar, bulkier than his own creation.
"Is that a sentinel?" Tony asked.
"Not sentinel. Better." The voice that answered was familiar but unexpected.
"Vanko?"
Vanko laughed. "Suit is overrated, Stark. You should try mine sometime."
"Maybe later," Tony retorted. "Right now we have bigger problems."
Both men veered their rockets upward, fighting against the missiles' guidance systems that were still locked on the tower. The g-forces pressed Tony back into his suit as he struggled to maintain control.
"These things are going to detonate soon," Tony warned. "We need to get them through the portal."
They turned the missiles just in time to go vertical, aligning their trajectories parallel with Stark Tower.
As they passed the upper floors, Tony caught a glimpse of Tyson standing on the rooftop. He was holding something up to the barrier around the Tesseract, with several others holding on to his hand. Blood streamed from his nose and ears, but his eyes were vacant as he clutched what appeared to be a glowing stone against the energy field with one hand, and had his other hand linked with several others standing around him.
"Good luck, kid," Tony mumbled, as they blew by.
Both suits went up and up, the air thinning around them as they approached the swirling vortex. The portal's edges crackled with cosmic energy, a tear in reality that now represented their only hope.
"Stark," Vanko called out, his voice suddenly serious. "If we do not make it back..."
"Save it for the debrief," Tony interrupted.
"Almost there," Tony muttered. "Almost there."
The portal loomed before them, a gaping wound in the sky that revealed the star-studded blackness beyond. Tony could see the massive Chitauri mothership hovering in the void.
"Perfect target," Vanko observed, his voice now breaking up through the comm.
They passed through the portal.
The transition was jarring, violent. Earth's atmosphere gave way to the vacuum of space. The sensation was like being plunged into ice water, if ice water could also steal the air from your lungs and freeze the moisture in your eyes. Tony's ears popped painfully. The suit's internal pressure tried to compensate, systems screaming warnings as they fought against an environment they were never designed for.
The HUD inside Tony's helmet began to flicker, red alerts cascading across his vision faster than he could process them. Warning lights flashed like a Christmas tree having a seizure.
"Sir, power levels critical," Jarvis's voice said, distorted and breaking up. "Suit integrity compromised. Oxygen supply diminishing."
Tony ignored the warnings. His grip on the missile was the only thing that mattered now. Below, or was it behind him now, the city looked impossibly small. Millions of lives reduced to a landscape of steel and glass that would be obliterated if he failed. The thought was almost too big to hold in his mind. His suit began to shut down. Life support systems failed one by one, each shutdown accompanied by a soft chime that sounded almost apologetic. The heating elements went first, and cold seeped through the armor like water through cracks. Then the secondary stabilizers. The heads-up display flickered, went dark, came back, flickered again.
The cold of space pressed in around him, seeping through every seal and joint. It was a different kind of cold than he'd ever experienced; absolute, unforgiving, the complete absence of warmth rather than just its opposite. His breath came in short gasps as the oxygen thinned. Each inhale brought less and less air, until he was pulling at nothing, his lungs burning with the effort.
The missiles continued on their trajectory, now aimed directly at the heart of the Chitauri fleet. The mothership was massive, easily the size of Manhattan itself.
He released his grip.
For a moment, he just watched. The missile sailed away from him, surprisingly graceful without atmosphere to create drag. Beside him, Vanko had done the same, both nuclear warheads now hurtling toward the alien mothership in perfect silence.
Tony's vision began to dim at the edges, a creeping darkness that felt almost gentle. Like falling asleep. The oxygen gauge in his failing HUD read zero. His lungs screamed for air that wasn't there. Every instinct in his body was firing, demanding he do something, fix this, solve the problem the way he always did.
But there was nothing to fix. No solution to engineer. No clever quip to deflect the reality of what was happening.
He was going to die out here.
The thought came with surprising clarity, cutting through the oxygen deprivation and the cold. He was going to die in space, floating in the void, watching nuclear fire consume an alien fleet.
The last thing he saw was the first missile striking the Chitauri vessel. The explosion expanded outward in complete silence, a sphere of white light that should have been accompanied by sound, by thunder, by the roar of annihilation. But there was nothing. Just light, pure and terrible and beautiful. The second missile followed a split second later, multiplying the devastation. The blast rippled through the alien armada like a wave, tearing through metal and flesh and technology with equal indifference. The mothership began to collapse in on itself. Secondary explosions cascaded across its surface as the nuclear blast tore through its core, each one a silent flower of fire blooming and dying in the void. It was beautiful, in a way. Terrible and beautiful.
As darkness closed in around him, Tony felt a strange sense of peace.
He had done it. They had done it. The threat was neutralized. Earth was saved. And if this was to be his final moment, at least it meant something. At least it mattered.
His suit powered down completely, the last failing systems giving up their ghost. The faint hum that had been his constant companion since he'd first donned the armor went silent. He was alone now, truly alone. No Jarvis. No HUD. No connection to the world below.
Just him and the stars that seemed impossibly bright and numerous without Earth's atmosphere to dim them. More stars than he'd ever imagined, stretching out in every direction, infinite and ancient and indifferent. He'd never been much for poetry, but he thought he understood it. The terrible beauty of the universe, vast and uncaring.
Tony's last conscious thought was of Pepper. Her smile. The way she'd looked at him the last time they were together, equal parts exasperated and fond. He hoped she would understand. Hoped she wouldn't be too angry with him for this. Hoped she would know that he'd thought of her at the end.
The cold embrace of space claimed him.
Vanko drifted nearby, his suit similarly disabled, his body still. The two former enemies, now unlikely allies, floated just beyond the portal to Earth, surrounded by the wreckage of an alien fleet and the infinite stars beyond.