-Broadcast-
Cull Obsidian didn't waste time on threats or posturing. He simply stood up from the crater where he'd landed, shook off debris like a bear shaking off water, and charged at the Hulkbuster Mark II with single-minded fury.
Inside the armor's cockpit, Bruce Banner's panic was rising. His hands flew across the controls, trying to remember Tony's crash course on the suit's systems. "Hulk! Hulk, I know you like making a mess, and honestly, right now would be a really good time!" His voice pitched higher with each word. "Come on, man! We're dying here!"
He aimed the Hulkbuster's right palm cannon at the charging alien and fired. The repulsor blast struck Cull Obsidian in the shoulder, scorching his armor but barely slowing him down.
The massive warrior closed the distance in seconds. He ducked under Banner's follow-up strike with surprising agility for someone his size, spinning around Banner's right side. His chain-hammer whipped forward, the chain wrapping around the Hulkbuster's left arm. Cull Obsidian planted his feet, used his back as a fulcrum, and pulled with all his considerable strength.
Metal screamed. Hydraulics burst. The Hulkbuster's left arm tore completely free from the torso in a shower of sparks and fluid.
"HULK! HULK! HULK!" Banner screamed, his face suddenly beginning to turn green. For just a moment, his features started to expand, his eyes beginning to take on that familiar emerald glow—
"NO!" The green receded as quickly as it had come. Hulk's roar turned into Banner's furious shout. "Screw you, you big green asshole! I'll do it myself!"
Rage—not Hulk's rage, but Banner's own—flooded through him. He was tired of being afraid. Tired of being useless without the other guy. Tired of being helpless.
"COME ON!" Banner roared, engaging the Hulkbuster's thrusters at full power. The armor rocketed forward, closing with Cull Obsidian before the alien could ready another attack.
Banner flew into the air, then used gravity and momentum to deliver a devastating haymaker to Cull Obsidian's face. The impact echoed across the forest like a thunderclap. Before the warrior could recover, Banner spun and backhanded him, the massive mechanical fist catching Cull Obsidian in the temple and sending him crashing into the nearby river.
Water exploded upward as the alien's body hit the surface. Cull Obsidian stood up in the shallows, water streaming from his armor, his face twisted with fury—
Banner's mechanical fist caught him with an uppercut to the jaw. The blow snapped Cull Obsidian's head back so hard that teeth flew from his mouth. He staggered, momentarily dazed.
Banner brought both arms down in a double hammerfist strike, trying to finish the fight—
But Cull Obsidian had been fighting for decades before Banner was born. Combat instinct overrode the pain, and he caught the descending mechanical arm in both hands. Then he clenched his fist and drove it forward into the Hulkbuster's chest with pile-driver force.
The punch dented the armor's chestplate inward. Banner felt the impact through the cockpit, felt his ribs protest. The Hulkbuster was blown backward several meters, crashing to the ground and sliding through dirt and vegetation before finally stopping.
Cull Obsidian approached slowly, savoring the kill. He flexed his prosthetic left arm, and a wrist-blade extended with a metallic snikt—easily two feet of razor-sharp alien metal.
Banner struggled to his feet, the Hulkbuster's damaged servos whining in protest. He looked around desperately for a weapon, anything—
His eyes fell on the severed left arm of the Hulkbuster, lying in the grass a few feet away. The limb's arc reactor was still glowing, still active.
Cull Obsidian charged forward with a roar, his blade raised for a killing strike. He brought it down toward the Hulkbuster's cockpit—
Banner grabbed the severed arm and thrust it upward. The blade meant for his head instead plunged into the detached limb, impaling it completely. The blade was stuck, driven through layers of armor and circuitry.
"GET OFF MY PLANET!" Banner screamed, and slammed his remaining fist into the arc reactor on the severed arm.
The reactor sparked, its containment compromised. Banner engaged the thrusters at full power—both the ones in the severed arm and his own remaining jets.
The severed limb—with Cull Obsidian's blade still embedded in it, with Cull Obsidian refusing to release his weapon—rocketed into the air like a missile. The alien warrior was dragged along, his own strength working against him as his grip on the blade handle kept him attached to the ascending arm.
They shot upward toward Wakanda's energy barrier. Cull Obsidian screamed in fury and pain as the acceleration crushed against him. Then they hit the shield.
The energy barrier didn't discriminate. It recognized Cull Obsidian as a threat and activated its full power. The alien's body began to burn immediately, friction and energy discharge combining to cook him alive. His screams intensified as his armor heated to white-hot, as his flesh began to char and peel—
The arc reactor exploded.
The detonation sent a shockwave through the energy barrier, visible as a ripple of force that spread across the dome. Cull Obsidian's body was torn apart, pieces of him scattering across the sky, burning as they fell back to earth.
Banner stood in the damaged Hulkbuster, breathing hard, staring up at the fading explosion. "Hulk," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. "We really need to have a conversation."
-Real World-
Tony Stark clapped Banner on the shoulder, genuine respect in his expression. "That was seriously impressive, Bruce. You used the armor for the first time and still managed to outwit one of Thanos's elite warriors."
Banner shook his head, not accepting the praise. "It wasn't enough. If Hulk had been willing to come out, Black Dwarf wouldn't have been a problem at all."
The reality was clear: Earth's population was hostile to the Hulk, and the other guy simply wasn't willing to help humanity anymore. Banner's task—his burden—was to somehow resolve that rift before the real invasion came.
T'Challa watched the barrier ripple from the explosion and his expression grew troubled. "The shield isn't strong enough anymore. Shuri, work on reinforcements—both to the barrier's integrity and its underground sensors."
His sister nodded, already making mental notes.
T'Challa continued, addressing his father who sat nearby. "We also need more long-range weaponry. This close-combat approach is outdated. We were nearly overwhelmed by the forces from a single ship. If Thanos brings a full armada, we'll have no way to defend ourselves."
T'Chaka, always the voice of peace, nevertheless understood the wisdom in his son's words. "Preparation is not the same as aggression. We will strengthen our defenses."
-Broadcast-
While Banner was destroying Cull Obsidian, the battle in the trench continued. Proxima Midnight fought both Natasha and Okoye simultaneously, her superior strength and combat experience forcing both Earth warriors backward step by step.
A Thresher wheel rolled overhead, forcing all three combatants to duck. In that moment of vulnerability as they stood back up, Proxima Midnight lashed out with a kick that caught Natasha square in the face. The Black Widow was lifted off her feet and crashed into the trench wall.
Okoye immediately thrust her spear forward, trying to capitalize on Proxima's extended position—
But the alien warrior anticipated it. She sidestepped the thrust with minimal movement, reached out with serpent-quick hands, and grabbed the back of Okoye's neck. Using the Wakandan's own momentum against her, Proxima hurled Okoye across the trench. She crashed into the opposite wall and slid down, stunned.
-Broadcast-
In the forest, without Banner's protection, the severely wounded Vision was completely outmatched. Corvus Glaive's war-blade gleamed as he advanced on the synthezoid with professional efficiency.
Vision tried to phase, to become intangible—but his power reserves were nearly depleted from the interrupted surgery. His systems were compromised, his connection to the Mind Stone unstable. He raised his hands weakly, trying to fire a beam from the stone—
Nothing happened.
Corvus Glaive's blade plunged through Vision's synthetic chest, piercing through vibranium and circuitry with its reality-warping edge. Vision's golden eyes widened in shock and pain.
The alien warrior leaned close, his voice cold with contempt. "I thought you were formidable, machine." He twisted the blade, drawing a staticky gasp from Vision. "But you're just like every other creation we've encountered—fragile. Temporary."
With brutal force, Corvus Glaive yanked the blade free. Vision's systems sparked and failed, his body going limp. He collapsed to the forest floor like a puppet with cut strings.
Corvus Glaive knelt beside the fallen synthezoid and reached for his forehead, fingers extended to dig the Mind Stone from its mounting—
A shield slammed into him from the side with tremendous force, the impact lifting Corvus off his feet and sending him tumbling across the ground. His war-blade flew from his grip, clattering into the underbrush.
Captain America had finally arrived, his legs burning from the sprint across the battlefield. He'd run faster than he'd ever run, enhanced metabolism pushed to its limits, because he knew every second counted.
Steve rolled to his feet and immediately gestured toward Vision. "Get out of here!" His voice was hoarse from exertion but still carried command.
Vision tried to move, but his damaged body barely responded. He managed to drag himself a few feet before his systems gave warning signals. He couldn't stand. Couldn't fly. Could barely move.
Corvus Glaive climbed to his feet, rage replacing his earlier cold professionalism. This human insect had dared to interfere. He dove for his fallen blade, fingers closing around the handle, and spun toward Captain America with murder in his eyes.
The war-blade came at Steve in a horizontal slash meant to decapitate. Steve brought both shields up in a cross-block, catching the blade between them. The impact drove him back a step, but the vibranium held. He shoved the blade aside and drove his fist into Corvus's jaw with enhanced strength, the blow snapping the alien's head to the side.
"GO!" Steve shouted at Vision again, not taking his eyes off Corvus.
-Broadcast-
Back in the trench, Natasha forced herself to her feet despite the stars in her vision from Proxima's kick. She broke her electrified batons apart at the central joint, creating two separate weapons—shorter, more maneuverable.
Proxima Midnight swung her three-bladed spear in a wide horizontal arc, trying to take advantage of Natasha's compromised state.
Natasha ducked beneath the swing with inches to spare, her training taking over. She came up inside Proxima's guard and jammed both batons into the alien's wrist. Electricity crackled, muscles spasmed, and Proxima's grip on her weapon faltered. The spear fell from her hands.
Enraged, Proxima Midnight abandoned all technique and simply started throwing punches. Her fists were like hammers, each blow capable of shattering bone. Natasha blocked with her batons, but even through the weapons the force was tremendous. She was driven backward, her arms going numb from the impacts.
A punch got through—caught Natasha in the shoulder, spinning her around. Another hit her in the ribs, driving the air from her lungs. A third knocked her to the ground.
Proxima Midnight stepped forward and planted her boot on Natasha's chest, pinning her. A blade extended from her wrist gauntlet with a metallic snikt—six inches of razor-sharp death. She raised it high, preparing to drive it through Natasha's throat.
Natasha brought both batons up in an X-formation, catching the descending blade between them. The electrified weapons sparked against alien metal, barely holding the blade at bay. But Proxima was stronger, much stronger. The blade descended slowly but inevitably toward Natasha's exposed neck.
Natasha's arms trembled with effort. The blade was inches away. Then centimeters. She could see her reflection in the metal, could smell the alien chemistry of Proxima's breath—
Red light erupted from behind Proxima Midnight. Wanda Maximoff had finally recovered, had finally pushed through the pain and disorientation. Her eyes blazed with crimson power as she extended both hands.
Chaos magic wrapped around Proxima Midnight like chains of pure energy. The alien warrior was lifted off Natasha's chest, suspended in the air, unable to move despite her struggles.
Wanda's expression was cold, merciless. With a sharp gesture, she hurled Proxima Midnight high into the air—
Directly into the path of an oncoming Thresher wheel.
The spinning blade caught Proxima Midnight at waist height. There was a brief moment where time seemed to slow, where everyone could see exactly what was about to happen—
Then the Thresher's serrated edge tore through alien flesh and armor like tissue paper. Proxima Midnight's body was bisected in an instant, blue blood spraying in a wide arc as the wheel continued its deadly roll. What remained of Thanos's commander splattered across the grass, scattered in pieces.
The battle was over. Proxima Midnight, one of Thanos's most deadly warriors, was dead.
Wanda collapsed to her knees in the trench, exhausted, her power temporarily spent. Natasha sat up slowly, touching her throat where the blade had come so close. Her fingers came away wet—with Proxima's blue blood, not her own.
She looked at the alien remains coating the grass and muttered with disgust, "That's going to be hard to explain to the dry cleaner."
Okoye stood, wincing from bruised ribs, and surveyed the carnage. Two members of Thanos's Black Order were dead. But the cost had been high, and the battle was far from over.
In the forest, Corvus Glaive remained—and he still wanted the Mind Stone.