Clint Barton crouched low on the ledge of a battered rooftop, eyes narrowed against the smoke and wind whipping past his face. The skyline was on fire — streaks of blue plasma, orange flame, and dark Chitauri silhouettes tangled in a deadly dance above Manhattan. His bowstring hummed as he loosed another arrow, then another, each one finding its mark among the swarm of skimmers.
Below, the streets howled with chaos. Above, the war was being fought at a thousand feet.
Clint pressed a finger to his comm and said, his voice deadpan as ever, "Stark. Riyo. You both have a whole parade of strays on your tail. Thought you should know."
To his right, a half-dozen Chitauri skimmers buzzed after Iron Man in a tight, angry pack, their plasma bolts tearing through the air around him. Further out, the Marauder, sharp and dangerous against the haze, veered into a screaming dive, Riyo's hair just visible through the cockpit glass — though her ship was being shadowed by something much, much bigger.
Tony's voice came back immediately, sardonic through the comm: "Just tryin' to keep them off the sidewalks, Legolas. You're welcome, by the way."
Riyo's voice cut in next, bright and biting: "Yeah? Well, in case you're wondering, I've got a giant space whale trying to swallow me whole, so maybe hurry it up?"
Clint's mouth ticked into the faintest smirk as he loosed another arrow, the shaft screaming through the air and punching through the skimmer's cockpit. It detonated, tumbling into a neighboring building.
"Well," he replied coolly, drawing another arrow and sighting down the shaft, "they can't bank worth a damn."
He fired.
This one looked wide — but the arrow hooked at the last second, embedding in the chassis of a skimmer behind him without Clint even glancing at it. The craft exploded mid-spin.
"Case in point," he murmured.
Tony streaked by Barton's rooftop in a blazing streak of red and gold, forcing Clint to step back from the gust of hot air and dust.
"Roger that," Tony grumbled, banking hard as Clint dropped another skimmer on his tail.
Barton leaned casually on his bow, watching Iron Man zip through the skyline, baiting his pursuers into a tighter cluster like sheep to slaughter. His repulsors flared, burning one skimmer after another out of the sky in bursts of light and metal.
Tony shot into a tunnel with three Chitauri still on his tail, weaving through the columns with impossible precision. Barton's smirk widened faintly as the skimmers smashed one by one into the concrete, fireballs blossoming in his wake.
"Oh, boy," Tony muttered over the line as he looped back toward open sky. Then, with a grin audible even through his modulated voice: "Nice call, Legolas. What else you got?"
Clint had already nocked another arrow. "Well… Thor's busy dismembering a whole squadron down on Sixth."
"And he didn't invite me?" Tony shot back, mock-offended. "The guy really needs to learn about sharing."
Across the battlefield, lightning split the clouds as Thor dove through another wave of skimmers, hammer spinning, sending wreckage raining into the streets below.
But then Riyo's voice came through again — breathless now, but no less sharp. "Not to break up your little bromance, boys — but I've got a Leviathan breathing down my neck. Kinda important."
Clint's eyes flicked to the sky as he caught sight of her.
The Marauder banked hard left, its engines screaming as the Leviathan's jaws clamped shut just behind her tail. The massive creature roared, slamming through two buildings as it pursued.
Inside the cockpit, Riyo gripped the controls with white-knuckled precision, her braid whipping over one shoulder as alarms blared and the ship's hull groaned.
"Come on, sweetheart," she muttered under her breath, coaxing the freighter through a brutal roll that nearly shaved the side off a skyscraper. "Show me what you've got left."
The Marauder's turbolasers powered up with a rising whine, the barrels glowing red-hot as she lined up her next pass. The Leviathan was still on her, its plated maw opening wide as it lunged.
Riyo's lips curved into a wicked grin.
"Open wide, ugly."
She slammed the trigger.
Twin beams of molten energy erupted from the freighter's cannons, punching deep into the Leviathan's throat. The creature howled, the beams boring deeper, brighter, until —
Crack.
A shockwave split the air as its massive head erupted in fire and shattered bone. Its body convulsed mid-flight before crumpling to the street below, crushing everything in its path as it came to rest in a smoking heap.
Riyo exhaled, one hand leaving the yoke to brush hair from her face. Then she keyed the comm, her tone back to its usual playfulness: "Leviathan down. You're welcome."
Barton gave a low whistle as he fired another arrow, catching yet another skimmer.
"Not bad for a kid in a cargo freighter," he drawled.
Her laugh came back quick: "Not bad for an old man playing Robin Hood."
Tony's chuckle joined theirs on the channel, full of snark and mischief: "Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun."
And then his thrusters roared and he dove back into the battle, red and gold blurring as he streaked past the burning carcass of the Leviathan.
Above them all, the sky split wider still.
And below — the fight only got bloodier.
—
The office tower shuddered as the Leviathan slithered past.
Its shadow fell across the thirty-story windows, blotting out what little sunlight still cut through the smoke.
The thing was colossal — plated in alien armor, studded with barbs, its massive maw opening and closing as it roared. Rows of dagger-like teeth scraped the glass, leaving long white fogging streaks as it eyed the tiny, cowering humans inside.
Phones clattered to the floor.
Somewhere, a woman wept quietly.
A man in a suit clutched a chair leg like it would make any difference. "Is it… looking at us?" he asked hoarsely.
Then — footsteps.
Fast. Heavy. And getting louder.
The floor panels trembled. Computer monitors toppled. A painting fell from the wall.
"What the hell—"
That was as far as he got.
Hulk crashed through the far side of the office in an explosion of plaster, wood, and shattered desks. His massive green form roared down the corridor, sending a shower of debris in his wake.
He did not stop.
Not even a little.
The floor-to-ceiling windows didn't slow him any more than the cubicles had. With a roar that shook the glass, Hulk launched himself through the pane, shattering it into a glittering storm of shards.
One massive hand clamped onto the Leviathan's dorsal plates. His feet slammed into its armored hide. The beast shrieked, banking hard away from the building as Hulk snarled into its ear-hole.
"Mine," he growled, low and guttural, and drove his fist into its neck with bone-crushing force.
The Leviathan bucked, its enormous wings beating furiously as it writhed in the air. The tower behind them receded, but Hulk clung tight, muscles flexing as he smashed again and again into its hide, prying a scale loose and tossing it aside like tin foil.
Above him, through the haze of smoke and glass, something else moved.
HK-47.
The copper-plated droid was crouched at the edge of the rooftop, claws dug into the concrete, photoreceptors glowing a faint malevolent red.
"Observation," HK intoned, his synthetic voice carrying over the howling winds. "Organic reptilian target appears distracted by gamma-irradiated meatbag. Ideal time to introduce additional carnage."
He jumped.
HK arced through the air like a predator, legs tucked, claws extended. His landing on the Leviathan's back was punctuated by a solid clang.
"Exclamation: Bullseye! Glorious carnage detected! Commencing joyous disassembly of disgusting biological target!"
He was already at work.
HK's claws gouged deep furrows into the Leviathan's plating as he skittered across its back, finding the gaps in the armor and wrenching them wider. He drew a blaster from his back and jammed it directly into the creature's sensory ridge, firing shot after shot as sparks and thick black ichor sprayed into the air.
Hulk paused mid-punch to glance back at him.
"You're… weird," Hulk rumbled, brow furrowing.
"Correction: Efficient," HK replied without looking up. He tore loose a hunk of alien bone and hurled it into the wind. "Addendum: And having the time of my miserable synthetic existence!"
The Leviathan bellowed and rolled, trying to shake them both off. The sudden motion sent Hulk skidding nearly to the edge — but he snarled and dug his fingers into a seam of armor, hanging on.
HK, meanwhile, was laughing. Or something close enough to it.
"Observation: This is even more satisfying than anticipated. Oh, the screaming! The thrashing! Such beautiful music to my auditory sensors."
He skittered further down the creature's back, leaving a wake of ripped plates and cauterized flesh.
"Request: Please thrash harder, you hideous biological error. Oh, the memories I'll save from this day."
Below them, the workers pressed against the shattered window frame, staring.
Horrified.
Awestruck.
Unable to look away.
The two of them — green rage and copper malice — had turned the Leviathan into prey.
Its shrieks now sounded less like fury and more like fear.
"Terminate," HK declared gleefully, digging both claws deep and firing his blaster point-blank into the creature's spinal node.
"Smash," Hulk growled at the same moment, fists coming down one final time, shattering vertebrae with a wet crack.
The Leviathan's wings faltered. Its head dropped. Its whole body began to list sideways, crashing through a construction crane as it fell.
Hulk leapt free just before impact, landing on the next rooftop with a seismic thud.
HK… stayed on the creature all the way down.
And as it slammed into the street in a spray of rubble and gore, HK finally stood atop its ruined back like a conquering warlord.
"Statement," he called over the comms, voice perfectly calm despite the carnage beneath him. "Organic threat neutralized. You're welcome."
Hulk dusted off his hands, gave the droid a long, baffled look… and muttered under his breath:
"…still weird."
HK turned just enough for his photoreceptors to flash red at him.
"Retort: Better weird… than weak."
And then the fight above them raged on.
—
The air above the overpass was alive with fire and shrieking metal. Skimmers darted between plumes of smoke, the ground below scattered with broken cars and broken bodies.
Natasha Romanoff barely registered the chaos. Her focus was a scalpel. She moved like one too.
A Chitauri lunged out of the haze, claws outstretched. Natasha pivoted low, flipping it over her shoulder into the path of a plasma bolt fired by its own squadmate. Its body dropped with a wet thud as she sprang up onto the hood of a burned-out taxi.
Another warrior charged, blade raised.
Natasha didn't flinch. She raised her arm mid-spin and fired her Widow's Bite into its chest. The blue shock lanced through its armor and dropped it, twitching.
"Still not impressed," she murmured, snatching the alien rifle as it fell and firing a clean shot through its skull just for good measure.
She straightened, just in time to hear the heavy thunk of boots landing behind her.
Natasha whirled around, rifle already leveled—
But it wasn't Chitauri.
Steve Rogers stood there, shield at the ready, dirt and soot streaking his perfect jawline. Beside him, Harry Potter landed lightly on his boots, his crimson-and-black armor crackling faintly from residual magic. His emerald eyes glowed against the smoke, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as though he'd just wandered in from somewhere much less apocalyptic.
Natasha exhaled and let the rifle drop slightly.
She leaned casually against the crumpled car between them, lips curling into a faint smirk.
"Captain," she said dryly. "None of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don't close that portal."
Steve followed her gaze up to the tear in the sky. The portal was a bleeding wound, spewing Chitauri into their world faster than they could kill them.
His jaw tightened.
"Our biggest guns couldn't touch it," he admitted, glancing at Harry.
Natasha's gaze sharpened, something calculating behind her calm.
"Maybe it's not about guns," she said simply.
Harry spoke up then, rolling his shoulders with a faint chuckle. His voice was quiet, almost lazy, but there was something dangerous lurking under the humor.
"Oh, I don't know about that," he drawled, emerald eyes glinting as he looked skyward. "But maybe it needs a magical solution. Not just… blasting it harder."
Steve gave him a look somewhere between concern and trust. Then turned back to Natasha.
"You wanna get up there, Romanoff?" he asked evenly. "You're gonna need a ride."
Before Natasha could answer, a cool, accented voice cut through the noise behind them.
"Zen take me too," Fleur Delacour said smoothly as she strode into view. Her wand was already in her hand, and her blonde hair — streaked with soot but somehow still shining — caught what little light remained. Her blue eyes held no fear. Only challenge.
Natasha raised an eyebrow at her. Fleur gave a tiny shrug, as if daring her to argue.
"If zere is spellwork required," she added, "I am probably ze best person for ze job."
Natasha only smirked faintly and nodded. "Fine."
Fleur's eyes flicked up at the skimmers darting past above them. One corner of her mouth curled.
"We got a ride," Natasha muttered, starting to move. "Could use a boost though."
Steve set his shield and crouched slightly, ready. His voice was calm as ever.
"You sure about this?"
Natasha gave him a wicked little grin as she started sprinting toward him.
"Yeah. It's gonna be fun."
At the last second, Steve boosted her high into the air with his shield.
Fleur followed immediately behind, wand raised. Harry's hand flared crimson as he swept it upward, catching Fleur mid-jump with a surge of magic. She flew skyward behind Natasha, hair streaming like a banner of gold in the smoke-filled wind.
Both women caught the edge of a passing skimmer and swung up into position with practiced ease.
Below, Harry and Steve stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching them ascend.
Harry smirked faintly.
"Still never gets old," he murmured.
Steve gave a small, lopsided grin before turning his attention back to the line of Chitauri pushing toward them.
"We'll keep it that way," he said, raising his shield.
Above, Natasha vaulted fully onto the skimmer's back. The rear guard turned, too late. She drove both her daggers into its armor with a sharp twist and kicked its body into the wind.
Fleur was already landing behind the next warrior, crouched low and poised as it raised its weapon toward her.
Her eyes narrowed, and her wand flared white.
"Non," she purred, and a jet of flame sent the warrior spinning off the craft in a smoking heap.
Natasha snarled something under her breath and yanked the driver back by his armor, driving a blade into his neck and using his body to jerk the skimmer into her control.
The vehicle wobbled and careened slightly as she got the feel of it, gritting her teeth.
"Okay," she muttered to herself. "Just like Budapest… but stupider."
Two more skimmers flanked them suddenly, weapons blazing. Natasha cursed and tried to bank, but the blasts seared past them.
Fleur was already standing, one boot planted on the hull, wand out and steady.
"And now… au revoir," she murmured, her voice cool as ice.
Twin golden jets lanced out from her wand, slamming into the skimmers and sending them spinning away in explosions of sparks and fire.
Natasha threw a quick glance over her shoulder, lips quirking faintly.
"Not bad."
Fleur crouched again, her hair whipping wildly in the wind, and smiled serenely.
"You are welcome, ma chère," she replied, her French accent wrapping around the words like velvet.
Below them, Cap and Harry exchanged one last glance before diving back into the battle — the team still holding the line as Natasha and Fleur soared off toward the portal and whatever impossible thing lay ahead.
Harry allowed himself a dry little smile as he gathered another spell into his palm.
"Oh yeah," he muttered under his breath. "This is gonna be fun."
And then the sky split with fire, and the real fight began.
—
The overpass was hell.
Smoke choked the air, acrid and hot, stinging the eyes. Chitauri weapons hissed and cracked, lighting the battlefield in strobe flashes of blue. Piles of debris, overturned cars, and half-melted barriers turned the stretch of concrete into a war maze.
Aayla Secura's lekku flicked as she ducked another blast, her violet blade spinning in a tight, perfect arc. The Chitauri warrior who'd fired didn't get the chance to reload before her saber plunged clean through its chest.
"Try aiming next time," she murmured dryly as it toppled, before turning and striding forward without missing a beat.
Shaak Ti was already clearing her side of the overpass with surgical precision, her twin blades crossing in an X as she sliced through two more soldiers in one fluid motion. Her white-and-crimson face was an expressionless mask, but her eyes burned cold fire.
"One more wave," she called over her shoulder, her clipped Coruscanti accent cutting through the noise.
Aayla was already moving to the next problem: an overturned sedan, half-crushed under a chunk of concrete, smoke billowing from the hood.
Inside — a woman clutching a sobbing child.
"We see you!" Aayla shouted, crouching low, her saber held in reverse grip. "We're going to get you out!"
The girl's wet, frightened eyes locked on hers. Even through the grime and fear, Aayla held her gaze — steady, calm.
Shaak joined her on the opposite side of the car, planting her boots against the ground.
"On three," she said, her tone flat but her posture already coiling to move.
Aayla nodded, crouching lower and planting both hands under the mangled frame.
But then—
A ripple.
Both Jedi froze at the exact same instant, their heads snapping toward the source.
Intent.
Rage, clumsy and hot.
Thirty feet away, behind the smoke — a human man, dirty, wild-eyed, clutching a hunting rifle like a lifeline. His finger was already slipping into the trigger guard.
Aayla's eyes narrowed.
"Drop it," she said, loud enough to carry but calm as ever.
Shaak's voice followed a split second later, lower and colder:
"Put. That. Weapon. Down."
The man's grip only tightened. He took a step closer, eyes darting between them, the child, and the crimson glow of Shaak's saber.
"You— you think you can fool me?" he spat, voice cracking. "You're one of them. Don't care what side you're on now. I know what you really are!"
Aayla kept her hands just high enough to show she wasn't moving yet. Her voice stayed level.
"We're here to help. There are civilians—"
"Shut it!" he barked, knuckles white on the stock. "I can see what you are. I'm not stupid."
"Debatable," Shaak muttered under her breath, her blades still humming.
His breathing came faster, more erratic, and his finger began to tighten on the trigger—
And then a flash of red, white, and blue cut through the air.
The clang of vibranium against wood echoed over the overpass as Steve Rogers' shield struck the rifle clean out of his hands, sending it clattering across the concrete.
Before the man even had time to react, Steve was already there — boots pounding, blue eyes blazing.
He caught the shield on the rebound and closed the distance in three long strides, planting himself squarely between the man and the Jedi.
Steve jabbed a finger into the man's chest, his voice low and lethal:
"You want to tell me exactly what the hell you think you're doing?"
The man's bravado cracked instantly. He stammered, his eyes dropping to the ground.
"I— I thought— they're—"
Steve cut him off like a knife.
"Stop. Trying. To be a hero."
Another jab of his finger, harder this time.
"If you can't tell the difference between the people saving lives and the ones burning this city down — then put your damn weapon down and stay out of the way. You get me?"
The man swallowed, his shoulders collapsing as he nodded mutely and backed into the smoke.
Steve turned just in time to see Shaak and Aayla lift the wreck clean off the car, their lean muscles straining, and guide the woman and her daughter out safely.
The little girl clutched Aayla's hand on instinct, staring up at the Jedi with wide-eyed wonder.
Aayla crouched down to her level and winked, the corner of her mouth quirking.
"Told you we'd get you out."
The mother murmured her thanks through tears, holding her daughter close as they scurried away.
Steve let out a slow breath and glanced at the Jedi.
Aayla straightened, brushing dirt from her sleeve, and gave him a wry, crooked smile.
"Thanks for the assist, Captain."
Steve's own smile was tight but faintly amused.
"Don't thank me yet. We've still got work to do."
Shaak stepped up beside Aayla, her sabers reigniting with a hiss as she stared out at the next wave of Chitauri skimmers screeching down the avenue.
"No…" she murmured, her crimson eyes flashing in the dark. "But neither do they."
The three of them fell into stride together, charging back into the chaos.
Behind them, the smoke swallowed the coward and the rescued family alike — but for just a moment, the overpass felt a little less hopeless.
—
The sky above the overpass cracked open in a streak of red and gold.
Two Chitauri skimmers barreled down toward the street — only to be vaporized mid-swoop by twin repulsor blasts. Their smoking carcasses spiraled into the asphalt in showers of flame and shrapnel as Iron Man shot through the wreckage like a comet, his boots leaving molten gouges in the air.
"Boom," Tony Stark said conversationally into the comms as he twisted in midair, gauntlets already powering up again. Another cluster of Chitauri darted into his HUD field of view, and he fired without even glancing. "Boom. …and boom. Honestly, fellas, it's embarrassing you even showed up to this thing."
Behind him, another five — no, six — skimmers peeled off from the fleet, diving toward him in tight formation.
"Ah," Tony muttered, scanning the readouts. "Bring-your-whole-pathetic-family-to-work-day. Cute. J.A.R.V.I.S., you seeing this?"
"Indeed, sir," came J.A.R.V.I.S.'s dry, clipped reply through the helmet. "I'm almost impressed. They seem to have at least some instinct for survival."
Tony smirked. "Not for long."
He twisted sharply, upside-down now, and fired a wave of micro-missiles behind him. Three of the skimmers erupted instantly in fireballs, scattering their pilots across the skyline.
"Three down," J.A.R.V.I.S. noted.
"Yup," Tony said, already corkscrewing back to street level, "and three about to find out why I'm the best thing to happen to Manhattan since pizza delivery."
He dove straight down toward the overpass, dragging the remaining Chitauri in his wake. A stray plasma bolt sizzled past his helmet.
"Watch the paint, boys!" Tony barked over his loudspeaker as he dropped to mere feet above the pavement, slamming boots-first into a lone warrior and flattening it against the median. "Local celebrity coming through!"
He didn't stop.
Up ahead, Captain America was already in motion — a whirling storm of shield, fists, and boots. He moved through the Chitauri like a wrecking ball, one precise strike after another, his jaw set, his every motion fluid and practiced.
Steve ducked under a spear swipe, drove his knee into a warrior's ribs, and came up just in time to catch the streak of gold out of the corner of his eye.
"On your left!" Tony's voice rang out.
Steve didn't hesitate. He raised his shield just as Tony fired.
The focused repulsor beam slammed into the vibranium with a crackling roar — reflecting outward in a perfect, blinding arc. Every Chitauri in a thirty-foot radius was knocked sprawling, their armor smoking, their weapons clattering.
When the flash faded, Steve lowered the shield and glanced at Tony with the faintest flicker of a smirk.
"Nice aim."
Tony touched down next to him with a puff of dust and heat, casually rolling his shoulders as the whine of his thrusters faded.
"Oh, please," Tony said, voice dripping with mock modesty. "Don't sound so surprised. Genius and good aim. Kinda my thing."
Steve stepped into another Chitauri, flattening it with his shield and not even breaking stride.
"Whatever your thing is," he said gruffly, "keep doing it."
"Roger that, Cap." Tony's HUD flared as more targets pinged on a rooftop a few blocks away. He grinned under his helmet. "Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S., you seeing this?"
"Of course, sir. Shall I ready the fanfare?"
Tony's grin widened. "You read my mind."
His thrusters screamed to life, kicking up a shockwave as he shot straight up the side of a skyscraper.
Halfway up, a Chitauri skimmer swooped into his path. Without missing a beat, Tony rolled sideways, flipped inverted, and fired a point-blank blast into its underbelly. It exploded in a satisfying plume of fire as he threaded the gap between two buildings.
"Who's next?!" Tony shouted, the joy crackling in his voice. "Come on! Daddy's just getting warmed up!"
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s dry tone came back immediately. "Your bravado, sir, is as exhausting as it is effective."
"Aw, you love it," Tony shot back, and then he was gone — a streak of red and gold carving up the skyline, picking off Chitauri like target practice.
Below, Steve adjusted his grip on the shield, his eyes scanning the next wave already charging the overpass.
He didn't bother watching Stark's fireworks for long. There were still civilians to protect — still ground to hold.
And as much as he'd never say it aloud, he had to admit: they made a hell of a team.
—
Barton crouched low on the lip of the high-rise, the wind tearing at his jacket and the smell of ozone thick in the air. His fingers worked automatically, an arrow already notched as his keen eyes tracked the movement below.
One Chitauri warrior scrambled up a window ledge on the opposite tower, plasma rifle ready, its mouth open in a snarl.
Clint exhaled, dead calm.
"Say cheese," he muttered, and let the arrow fly.
The shaft buried itself cleanly between the warrior's eyes. It didn't even scream before gravity claimed it, and it disappeared into the maelstrom below.
But then—
Twin plasma bolts streaked upward toward his perch, sizzling through the air. Clint dropped flat, feeling the heat sear past the back of his neck as they blasted two shallow craters in the concrete behind him. Shards rained down around him.
He rolled to his knee, quick and easy, already lining up another shot.
"You guys just don't quit, do you?" he said, dry as dust, and loosed.
The arrow struck the pilot of a low-flying Chitauri skimmer dead-on, and the pilot jerked sideways, sending the craft into a wild, uncontrolled spin.
Barton watched it go with grim satisfaction.
"That's what you get for not tipping your archer," he muttered.
The doomed skimmer pinwheeled straight into the head of a Leviathan slithering between the towers, gouging its armor and showering flame across its plated crown.
The beast shrieked in fury, its wings beating faster now as it tried to shake loose whatever dared defy it.
That's when Clint spotted the green.
Hulk was already on it.
The jade goliath clung to the Leviathan's spine with one hand while the other swung wildly, swatting Chitauri soldiers like gnats. Every time one got close, Hulk grabbed, ripped, and threw—sometimes back into the skyline, sometimes down into the street below.
The Leviathan thrashed, wings cleaving the air as it bucked and weaved between buildings.
Clint smirked.
"Yeah," he said to himself, reaching for another arrow. "Go get 'em, big guy."
And then—
Thunder.
A deafening crack! split the sky as lightning danced across the skyline.
Thor landed in a flash of blue-white light, cape flaring as Mjolnir crashed into the Leviathan's armored back. The creature staggered under the blow.
Thor straightened, the wind whipping his blonde hair and crimson cloak as he planted his boots firmly on the Leviathan's spine. His booming laugh rolled over the rooftops.
"HA! I was beginning to think you'd have all the fun without me!"
Hulk responded with a guttural roar that might have been laughter… or just bloodlust.
He tore a massive slab of armor from the Leviathan's skull, exposing raw flesh and sparking circuits beneath. The creature shrieked and banked dangerously close to a tower.
Thor's eyes lit up, Mjolnir already raised high.
"Good!" he bellowed, his grin wolfish. "HOLD HIM STEADY, BEAST!"
Hulk slammed his feet down and wrenched, holding the Leviathan's head still as Thor summoned the storm. Lightning poured down into Mjolnir, crackling and sparking as the head of the hammer glowed white-hot.
And then Thor brought it down.
The shard of armor drove like a spear through the Leviathan's skull, lightning arcing across its length.
The beast let out one final, horrific shriek as it pitched downward, its wings going slack, its body hurtling into the streets below in a cataclysm of screeching metal and pulverized pavement.
Thor stood atop its corpse, breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling as the smoke curled around him. Mjolnir still hummed faintly in his hand.
Hulk planted his massive foot on the Leviathan's neck and let out a triumphant roar that shook windows two blocks away.
Thor turned to him, a faint smile tugging at his lips, his voice dropping into something almost fond.
"Well fought, monster. Truly, you—"
He never finished.
Hulk's fist swung in a blur, catching Thor square in the chest.
The thunder god yelped in surprise as he went flying off the carcass, cape fluttering madly behind him before he crashed through the side of a city bus.
Hulk snorted, his lips curling into something that might've been a grin.
"Puny god," he growled, before leaping away toward the next target, leaving nothing but a crater and the echo of his roar.
---
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