"Oh shit."
"Who else on our side has some kind of special talent?"
"If you want to show it, I absolutely welcome it…"
While muttering, Tony encountered Falcon again, and Falcon swooped down at the same time. The two met head-on, facing each other tit for tat, as if a direct clash was inevitable.
Unexpectedly, Falcon's cleverness never seemed to run out. He suddenly fired small flying darts from the carbon-fiber armored wings on his back—possibly miniature flight controllers.
Because Falcon was diving downward, Tony rose into the air. Who could have imagined that a hidden weapon would suddenly shoot out? Tony didn't even notice it before he was struck in the head.
Bang.
The sound of metal colliding rang out. Even with the armor on, Tony felt his head spin. After all, he'd been hit squarely in the head.
"Hey, Barton, how's retirement life at home?"
Just after flying up, Tony looked down at his old comrade on the ground aiming at him and joked casually.
"Oh, it sucks,"
"Playing golf—eighteen holes, leverage straight into the bunker."
"Still, that shot was pretty accurate."
"But this time, it won't work."
Tony dodged Hawkeye's arrow without even glancing back at the explosion behind him. Maybe that's what made a real man. He cracked another joke.
"Yeah, it's a little off, but it gets you to look back."
Hawkeye shrugged and actually lowered the bow in his hand. Did he plan to stop fighting? No—he knew the moment Tony drifted a little too far.
Behind Tony was a stacked parking structure. Hawkeye's arrow had detonated at just the right spot, blowing out a load-bearing support. Cars overhead immediately began to fall toward Tony indiscriminately.
No matter how Tony dodged, the cars seemed to have eyes, all crashing straight toward him. Only then did he realize Scarlet Witch behind Hawkeye was remotely controlling them.
Before long, Tony couldn't hold out. There were simply too many cars, falling on him like raindrops. Just like that, Tony was buried tightly beneath a heap of vehicles.
"Check for damage."
"Extensive armor damage detected…"
"Oh shit, I can see that. A large area is damaged."
On the ground, Black Panther quickly intercepted Captain America and Bucky. He still believed Bucky was his father's killer—how could he possibly let him escape right under his nose?
"You want to take them?"
"Then you have to get past me first."
At this moment, Ant-Man stepped forward again. With thighs towering like mountains, he once more stood in front of Black Panther. After speaking, Scott swept one giant foot forward again.
Left with no choice, Black Panther rolled across the ground to evade. Perhaps because Scott had grown too large, his movements had slowed.
One kick wasn't enough. Scott reached out to grab him directly. From Scott's perspective, Black Panther was nothing more than a kitten.
Boom boom boom…
Boom boom boom…
Boom boom boom…
Scott bent down, but before he could fully extend his hand, an explosion erupted in front of him. Looking closer, it was the War Machine who had been thrown away earlier. And with him, little Spider-Man came flying in as well. At the same time, the War Machine's onboard weapons unleashed a frantic barrage at Ant-Man.
The two advanced while providing covering fire. As they closed in on Ant-Man's massive body, little Spider-Man flicked his wrist, shooting out several webs that wrapped tightly around Scott's arm.
Little Spider-Man was incredibly agile. Compared to Scott's enlarged, bulky form, the difference was like a rabbit racing a snail.
After circling Scott's arm several times, little Spider-Man landed firmly on Scott's body.
On the ground, Hawkeye arrived just in time. Without a word, he rushed in and fired at Black Panther indiscriminately.
Hawkeye's rate of fire was astonishingly fast. According to Blaine's calculations while observing the fight, he could shoot ten to twenty arrows per minute. Though there was still a gap compared to Blaine, it was already impressive.
Black Panther moved like a real panther—dodging left and right, leaping and twisting, even avoiding the arrows entirely.
At the end, he crossed his arms and caught the arrows directly by their shafts. Even explosive arrows detonating near his ears didn't affect his composure at all. His suit absorbed the damage and converted it into kinetic energy, ready to strike back.
"It seems we haven't formally met yet,"
"My name's Clint."
"I don't care who you are."
As Hawkeye flicked his bow into a spear-like weapon, Black Panther extended the spikes from his claws. Close combat was inevitable.
As the two fought fiercely—whether from complete focus or deliberate restraint—the War Machine slammed directly into Ant-Man's fist.
This time, he was knocked flat and lay motionless on the ground.
Seizing the moment, Scott cleverly grabbed a long truck from the ground and hurled it straight at the War Machine.
Sensing danger, the War Machine immediately dropped to one knee, aiming all his mounted weapons at the incoming truck.
Boom boom boom boom…
Da da da da da da…
Missiles and bullets poured out relentlessly, as if ammunition were free.
By the time the massive truck reached him, only the section still clutched in Scott's hand remained.
Taking off once more, the War Machine glanced at Captain America and Bucky already making their escape. Without hesitation, he rushed to pursue them.
At this moment, Black Panther was tied up with Hawkeye, Tony was being hounded by Falcon, and little Spider-Man was helping restrain Ant-Man. That left the War Machine to give chase. Now it was time to see how he performed.
The War Machine moved just as little Spider-Man slumped onto Ant-Man's helmet, blocking his vision.
"Get down here!"
Scott was frustrated. With such a massive body, he couldn't do anything about someone so small. But little Spider-Man didn't seem to have a perfect solution either…
Seeing that no one could deal with Ant-Man, Vision—who had been watching from the sidelines—couldn't sit still any longer.
He slammed into Ant-Man's body with his arms crossed over his chest. Vision's vibranium body—let alone against flesh and blood—even a steel wall would be smashed through if he wanted.
As expected, Scott felt his legs go weak upon impact. He staggered backward and crashed down, crushing a plane beneath him as he fell…
Now, all eyes turned to the War Machine.
…
"Uh—"
Before he could react, a flash of red light sent him flying.
*************************************
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