Back on the battlefield, Ben's breathing finally steadied.
The portal still swirled above like a wound in the sky—and he knew with chilling certainty: this fight was far from over.
Ben steeled himself his eyes sharp—ready to face whatever came out next. As more deployments of chitauri chariots came Ben's way, his hands resting over his utility belt.
" Ariana eta three minutes, " Olivia's sounded inside Ben's helmet.
" That's more than enough, " his eyes sharp and unhesitant, as the chitauri chariots raced to his location.
****
Ben pivoted on his heel and sprinted forward, the shriek of incoming chitauri energy blasts crackling through the air behind him. The swarm of alien chariots having spotted him—racing through the sky, their weapons unleashing a relentless barrage of searing plasma fire. Explosions rocked the rooftop. Debris rained down—concrete shards clattering against him as he sprinted, the heat of plasma blasts causing his suit temperature to rise.
Glancing back mid-stride, Ben dove low, sliding into cover behind the rooftop stairwell entrance. Sparks flew as enemy blasts struck the reinforced structure, slowly chipping away at the concrete and steel. He didn't flinch; his hand darted to his belt, fingers closing around three discs.
The three disc-shaped devices etched with faint green circuitry.
Ben narrowed his eyes, his mind already calculating distance, trajectory, and blast radius with precise, almost instinctive efficiency. He tightened his grip, waited for the perfect moment—than he hurled the discs high overhead in a smooth, practiced motion.
The air shimmered as the trio of devices activated mid-flight, each emitting a high-pitched chirp as they honed in on the oncoming chitauri. Just as the alien vessels closed in, The discs sizzled—then burst into acrid green sludge that hissed as it fused to chitauri hulls, smelling like burnt rubber and ozone.
The engineered goo burst outward in wide arcs, coating the chariots in a fast-hardening compound derived from Goop's chemical makeup.
The results were immediate and chaotic.
Several chariots slammed into each other, bound together mid-air like insects trapped in resin. Their engines flared uselessly as they spiraled out of control, erupting in fiery collisions. One clipped a nearby building and exploded in a plume of smoke, sending shards of glass cascading down onto the street below.
Ben smirked. " Goop's gunk beats fireworks any day."
He glanced toward the portal above—the sky still torn open, with more chitauri pouring through like a swarm of locusts. The brief reprieve was over.
No time to waste.
Ben bolted from his cover and sprinted toward the rooftop's edge. Without hesitation, he leapt off. As he fell, he extended his arms outward, and with a hiss of compressed energy, a pair of green-tinted glider wings unfurled from his under arms—slim, aerodynamic, and buzzing with subtle air propulsion. As the gliders helped carry Ben's weight in the air.
The cityscape stretched out below him, chaos unfolding on every block. Inside his helmet, the visor flickered to life—projecting tactical analysis overlaying across his field of vision. Enemy formations, heat signatures, damage estimates—all streamed in real-time across the HUD.
"Olivia," Ben called out, his voice steady and even.
"Reading you loud and clear," Olivia's voice crackled through the comms, calm but urgent. "Heads-up—three more chariots inbound at your six, closing fast!"
Ben glanced back. As another group of Chitauri war chariots were hot on his tail like missiles.
"Great," he muttered, underneath his helmet.
His glider wings were agile but exposed—arms outstretched left him wide open from the flanks and rear. He banked hard left, but the chariots adjusted, matching his every move. As they chase after him, weapons drawn, ready to strike him down.
No cover. No firepower from this angle. He needed a boost.
Ben twisted his torso just enough readjusting his position mid-air his glider wings retracting back. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a black line shot from the launcher mounted on his forearm, trailing a high-tensile, retractable sticky line. It latched onto the corner of a nearby skyscraper with a magnetic clink.
With another jolt of his wrist launcher it snapped—a yanking him skyward with a hiss— as inertia whipped him into a wild arc. The chariots zipped beneath him, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected maneuver.
As he soared upward, with his glider wings retracted, streamlining his body—reducing his target profile as stray energy blasts sizzled past where he'd just been.
At the apex of his arc, he re-deployed the glider. The wings snapped open again, stabilizing his descent as he kicked off the wall of the tower with both feet, flipping in midair.
"Olivia, mark rooftop with the best vantage for a counterstrike," he said as he caught the wind again.
"Marked. 80 meters northeast—flat roof, low profile, moderate debris. Uploading nav-point now."
Ben's HUD pinged with a glowing marker. He shifted his trajectory and angled toward it, his body cutting through the smoky sky like a blade.
But the momentary reprieve ended quickly —two of the chariots had recovered and were now hot on his tail again, weaving through ruined skyscrapers with uncanny speed.
Ben made a sharp dive towards the ground– this also allowing him to reached back into his belt, prepping another disc—this one fitted with a delayed fuse and a micro EMP charge. Before spreading arms wide re-deploy his glider wings. Which also gave him a little boost back into the air.
"Let's see how you like flying blind…"
Ben twisted into a spiral midair, plasma bolts scorching past his glider as he weaved between rooftop antennae and broken scaffolding. With practiced precision, he tucked into a somersault, momentum carrying him forward as he snapped his arm back and hurled a small, cylindrical device toward the incoming chitauri patrol.
The squadron attempted to break formation, the lead riders veering sharply in a desperate attempt to evade. Too late. The EMP erupted with a deafening crack—a spiderweb of blue lightning lashing the chariots. Alien engines whined, sputtering smoke as riders clawed at sparking controls. In seconds, the entire group was tumbling out of control—several smashing into each other mid-descent, others spiraling into buildings below in a cascade of fire and debris.
Ben hit the rooftop just moments after, his knees buckled on impact—pain lancing up his shins as he skidded across gravel. His armored shoulder striking a ventilation unit before he came to a halt, sprawled near the edge. His glider retracted automatically, and his helmet's cushioning had absorbed the worst of the impact. Winded but intact, he exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling.
"Graceful as ever, boss" Olivia teased through his earpiece, her voice laced with dry humor. "Impact absorption at 87%. Might I remind you to install bubble wrap mode next time."
Ben groaned, rolling onto his back. "I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."
With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, brushing dust and soot from his combat suit. Shards of concrete crumbled beneath his boots as he moved toward the rooftop's edge, scanning the skyline. Plumes of smoke rose like black columns in every direction, while the swirling vortex above Manhattan continued to churn with relentless fury.
"Time to set up a little welcome party for our uninvited guests," he muttered.
As if on cue, a low hum signaled the arrival of one of his support drones. It decloaked just above him, its triangular form shimmering back into visibility. The drone descended, a panel on its underside hissing open to reveal a mounted compartment. A mechanical arm extended, presenting a compact piece of folded tech.
Ben grabbed it with one hand. The moment his fingers closed around it, the device shifted—panels locking into place, grips extending, barrel forming. It unfolded into a sleek sniper rifle, matte-black with subtle green lines running through its core. Just above the trigger, the Omnitrix iconic hourglass symbol glowed faintly.
Ben knelt at the rooftop ledge and peered through the scope. The rifle interfaced directly with his HUD, overlaying wind patterns, trajectory markers, and distance calculations in real-time.
"Visual uplink is clean," Olivia confirmed. "Targeting sync is active."
Ben's finger hovered near the trigger. "Let's see how this batch handles enhanced ordinance."
This wasn't standard ammunition. Each round was fitted with a smart core—custom-built payloads calibrated by Ben himself, and thanks to alien insights from transformations like Jetray and Buzzshock. Enhanced vision, kinetic reflexes, and electromagnetic sensitivity had given Ben a deepened understanding of precision shooting over the years. Now, that knowledge translated into deadly accuracy.
His scope locked onto a chitauri foot soldier down in the streets below—charging forward between two abandoned cars, unaware of the silent death above.
Ben gently exhaled. "Target acquired."
He squeezed the trigger.
The specialized round exploded midflight, dispersing into a cluster of magnetic shards that detonated in a tight radius. The Chitauri and two others nearby were immediately engulfed in a pulse of energy, armor locking up before they dropped like ragdolls.
"First wave neutralized," Olivia reported.
Ben chambered another round with a click. "Let's make sure the second doesn't even touch the ground."
Midtown Manhattan – Above the Skyline
Iron Man streaked across the broken skyline, weaving through smoke columns and shattered glass as another Leviathan tore through the city below. Beneath him, one of its fallen kin lay sprawled in a twisted heap, its scorched metal crackling with green electricity—remnants of Buzzshock earlier assault. Its limbs still twitched, twitching with residual energy.
"Hey, Transformer-boy," Tony called over comms, his tone dry but edged with urgency. "You planning to pull a car battery out of that watch, or does it come with a setting labeled 'city-sized alien can opener'?"
He fired a cluster of micro-missiles at a high-rise teeming with chitauri. Explosions tore through the glass and steel, sending alien bodies tumbling from the façade in flaming arcs.
Ben's voice buzzed in his ear, tense but focused. "I'm on cooldown. Eight minutes until my watch recharges. "
Tony groaned. "Perfect. Nothing like bad timing to keep things exciting."
A tremor shuddered through the air as the Leviathan slammed into the side of a nearby tower. The upper floors groaned, then buckled—part of the rooftop collapsing under the beast's weight. Through his HUD, Tony spotted terrified civilians inside, banging on windows for help.
"If this thing keeps treating Manhattan like drywall," he muttered, eyes narrowing, "we're gonna need more body bags than backup."
He rocketed forward, then banked hard around a collapsing scaffolding. Twin streams of bullets erupted from his shoulder cannons, peppering the Leviathan's face. The beast let out a thunderous, mechanical roar—part animal, part war machine—and shifted course, now locked onto him.
Tony hovered midair, chest heaving inside his armor, eyes locked with the charging monster.
"Alright. Got its attention… now what the hell was step two again?"
Bridge Street – Ground-Level Combat Zone
The street was hell. Smoke hung thick over the asphalt, clinging to every surface. The air stank of ozone, scorched metal, and burning fuel. Sirens wailed in the distance, barely audible over the shrieks and gunfire.
In the center of the chaos, Clint Barton moved like a phantom—fast, brutal, precise. He ducked under a swinging blade, tripped a chitauri with his bow, and drove an arrow into its throat. Without turning, he loosed another shot over his shoulder. The arrow found its mark with a wet thud.
Beside him, Natasha Romanoff was a whirlwind of motion. She vaulted onto a chitauri's back, jammed her Widow's Bite into its spine, and sent a surge of electricity through its nervous system. As it collapsed, she rolled forward, scooped up an alien rifle, and twisted it sharply. It hissed to life, pulsing with green energy.
A warrior lunged. Natasha slid low beneath the swing, boots screeching against the pavement. She popped up, drove the weapon's blade into the attacker's skull, then pivoted and fired. A second enemy fell in a spray of sparks and ichor.
Above them, one of Ben's drones shimmered into partial visibility. It made no sound but the faint whirr of its rotors. From a concealed hatch, it dropped a flash mine into a nearby alley. A burst of light blinded three chitauri flanking Natasha, sending them stumbling.
A second drone hovered above a rooftop. A micro-net deployed with a quiet snap, ensnaring a chitauri sniper in a hardened adhesive web. The creature screeched, bound and neutralized.
"Nice timing," Natasha muttered, ducking behind a cab as plasma scorched past her head. "This little of yours toys are starting to grow on me."
Barton didn't reply. He was already loosing another arrow, eyes scanning for the next threat.
"I heard that," Ben's voice crackled over a secondary comm channel, wry beneath the static. "Glad someone's making use of my toys while I'm stuck on recharge."
Clint grunted as a chitauri tackled him, slamming him into the pavement. He wrestled free, jamming an arrow into its gut and flinging it into the side of a delivery truck. Another alien struck from behind, a brutal kick knocking him onto the trunk of a cab. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs.
Natasha wasn't faring much better. Two warriors pressed her back onto the roof of a taxi, their strikes hammering down. She twisted, parried, tried to counter—but one ripped her weapon away and hurled her across the hood. She landed hard, a sharp cry escaping her as pain flared in her ribs.
Overhead, a low whine cut through the chaos. One of Ben's drones streaked in, hovering for a heartbeat before deploying a cluster of green-glowing adhesive grenades. They burst in tight formation around the taxi, erupting in compressed blasts of slime. One chitauri was pinned to the street; the other stumbled, legs gummed up.
Natasha didn't hesitate. Gritting her teeth, she flipped to her feet, snatched her stolen weapon, and drove it into the stunned alien's throat. It spasmed once, then dropped.
Clint peeked over the cab, clutching his side and smirking. "Tell your drone it's got a fan."
"Buy it a soda later," Ben replied dryly. "For now, heads up—more chitauri inbound from the east."
Stark Tower – Penthouse Level
The sky above shimmered, the portal pulsating with unnatural light. Beneath it, on a rooftop of shattered glass and bent steel, two gods collided with the fury of a storm.
Mjölnir slammed into Loki's scepter, throwing sparks and thunder into the air. The impact rattled the rooftop, sending fragments skittering over the edge.
"End this madness, brother!" Thor bellowed, eyes crackling with lightning. "You bring ruin to the realm that gave you shelter!"
Driven back, Loki skidded across the marble floor, cloak torn and eyes blazing. "Madness?" he spat. "No, Thor—freedom. No throne. No father. No chains."
Then, with a sharp twist of his hand, he vanished.
Thor's hammer cut only air.
He froze, scanning—too late. Six copies of Loki shimmered into view, forming a circle around him, each wearing the same sly grin.
"Still too slow," they hissed in unison.
They attacked as one. Thor struck—an illusion. A real blade cut shallow across his arm—gone before he could strike back. Another illusion passed through his side, laughing. Thor spun in place, turning tight, hammer at the ready.
"I tire of these games!" he roared, thrusting Mjölnir skyward.
Lightning crashed down, engulfing the hammer in divine fury. With a grunt, Thor hurled it—cutting through two illusions before slamming into the real Loki. The god of mischief smashed into the base of the portal generator, armor sparking as he hit.
Thor advanced, chest rising with each breath. "It doesn't have to end like this. You're still my brother."
Loki dragged himself to his feet, blood trailing from his mouth. His eyes, however, held only shadow.
"Is that what we are now?" he said softly. "Just brothers—on opposite ends of a blade?"
He raised the scepter. This time, the illusion wasn't of himself.
Frigga appeared between them—serene, radiant, watching Thor with gentle, imploring eyes.
Thor faltered. "Mother…"
Loki's voice dropped to a whisper. "I learned from the best. She always saw you. But me? I was never more than potential. A shadow in the corner."
Thor's grip tightened—but the illusion vanished just as he swung.
Loki stepped from behind it, real again. Their weapons collided in a spray of sparks—scepter against hammer, steel screaming against uru.
They fought like shadows and storms, flickering across the rooftop in bursts of divine speed. Loki's illusions danced in and out of sight—some wielding blades, others whispering taunts in the voices of their past. But Thor pressed on, swinging Mjölnir with relentless precision and fury, each strike clearing away lies until only truth remained.
At last, a blow sent Loki's scepter skidding across the floor in a burst of sparks.
He dropped to one knee, chest heaving. Yet still, he smirked. "You always were the forceful one."
Thor stood over him, not triumphant—just tired. "And you, the clever one. But cleverness has made you blind."
A sudden tremor shook the tower. Overhead, a Leviathan screamed past, its armored bulk grazing the edge of the rooftop. The gale forced both brothers to brace themselves against the storm of its passage.
"Stop this, Loki!" Thor shouted, ducking a beam of searing blue energy from a passing chariot. "You were never meant to be their king!"
"I am burdened with glorious purpose!" Loki roared, surging forward and driving his scepter into Thor's side.
Thor grunted, stumbling—but he seized Loki by the collar and slammed him into the floor with a crash that sent marble tiles flying. Lightning cracked down the building's frame, thunder rolling through the air.
"You think yourself above them," Thor growled, standing tall. "But you are nothing without the power you've stolen."
Loki vanished in a flicker of green—only to reappear behind Thor, scepter poised for the kill.
But Thor turned in time, catching the weapon mid-thrust.
With a savage roar, he headbutted Loki, sending him sprawling across the floor.
For a long moment, Thor stood over his brother, chest rising and falling. "I don't want to hurt you," he said, quieter now. "But I will stop you."
Loki coughed, laughing bitterly as blood trickled down his lip. "You're too late. Even if you kill me, the invasion won't end. The Others will come."
Thor's expression shifted. "The Others…?"
Before Loki could elaborate, another tremor rocked the rooftop. A Chitauri skimmer shot past, its engines screaming. Thor looked up instinctively—and in that blink, Loki rolled to his feet and darted toward the balcony.
"We're not finished!" Thor shouted.
"No," Loki replied, pausing at the glass edge, a crooked smile on his face. "We're just getting started."
"Just getting—?" Thor's voice sharpened. "Look around you! You think this madness ends with your rule?"
"It's too late," Loki said with a bitter laugh. "Too late to stop it."
Then, in one fluid motion, Loki spun backward and dropped off the edge of the building—only to explode into green mist mid-fall.
Thor stepped forward, watching the smoke dissipate into the wind. His brother was gone.
"Using magic… again," he muttered grimly.
Lightning crackled across the clouds above as Thor turned back to the portal—aware now that whatever this was, it ran deeper than Loki's ambition.
Midtown Manhattan – Near Grand Central
The ground rumbled beneath Captain America's boots as another Leviathan thundered overhead, casting a monstrous shadow over the chaos below. Smoke curled through the air. Fires raged along storefronts. Civilians screamed and scattered as chitauri soldiers dropped from the sky like a plague.
Cap skidded around a corner, shield raised as plasma fire rained down from a chariot. He dove, rolled across the pavement, and came up throwing—his shield arcing through the air and smashing into the pilot. The craft veered and slammed into the side of a bank in a fiery burst.
He landed beside two NYPD officers hunkered behind a taxi. One was trembling, fumbling to reload his pistol.
"That won't do much," Cap said, kneeling beside them. "But your positioning will. Push the civilians south, one block at a time. Prioritize the wounded and families."
The officer blinked. "How do we even hold the line?"
Cap stood, shield up. "You don't have to hold it alone."
From behind, one of Ben's stealth drones zipped past—flickering into visibility as it dropped a compact bundle by the officers. It unfolded into a waist-high energy shield, along with adhesive mines and modified flashbangs.
The cop stared. "Is this one of ours?"
Cap gave a short nod. "He's got our backs."
Over the earpiece, Olivia's voice crackled through. "Cap, you've got a cluster at 45th and Madison—four chariots, dozen foot soldiers. Barton and Romanoff are tied up on Bridge Street. Rerouting two more drones to you now."
"Copy that," Cap said, already sprinting.
Ahead, a city bus lay on its side. Civilians banged on the emergency hatch as chitauri troops closed in, weapons drawn.
Cap picked up speed.
He vaulted off a parked sedan, landing between the invaders and the bus. "You want through?" he shouted.
He slammed one aside, hurled his shield into two more, bouncing it off a stop sign and catching it on the rebound. Another soldier leveled a plasma rifle—Cap spun and hurled one of Ben's enhanced flashbangs. It detonated mid-air in a searing burst of light and green adhesive goo, gluing two enemies to a mailbox.
"Move!" Cap shouted, waving civilians out of the rear hatch.
A fresh chariot descended behind him—but Ben's drone dive-bombed it, unleashing a burst charge mid-air. The craft spiraled out, exploded against a lamppost, and lit the sidewalk in flame.
Cap exhaled, sweat and ash streaking his brow. The tide was shifting—but not fast enough.
Above, another Leviathan roared.
He pressed a hand to his earpiece. "Stark, Tennyson—any chance we can bring down one of those big bastards before they flatten the block?"
"We're getting on it," Ben replied.
"Then get on it. And Fast." Cap broke into a sprint toward another squad of chitauri ground troops.
Back on the Rooftop
Ben crouched behind a cracked HVAC unit, his green-and-black suit streaked with soot. He chambered another sonic round into his rifle. Below, the streets writhed with chitauri foot soldiers, their metallic shrieks echoing off the high-rises. Two blocks away, a Leviathan tore through a parking garage.
Tony's repulsors flared as he strafed the monster's armored side.
"Hey, Bug Zapper!" Tony yelled over comms. "Either turn into Godzilla or call in an airstrike—your pick!"
He twisted mid-air to dodge a swarm of chariots, firing behind him as another screeched by.
Ben fired a sonic shot into a nearby pilot. The round hit hard, sending the chariot spinning into a fire hydrant with a wet crash.
"Hey, try pulling your weight for once!" Ben snapped.
"Olivia! Where's my ride?"
"E.T.A sixty seconds," Olivia answered, calm as ever.
A moment later, the roar of a high-performance engine echoed through the smoke—deep, powerful, unmistakable. A smirk tugged at Ben's lips beneath his helmet.
"Right on time."
Helicarrier – Command Bridge
A communications operator sat hunched over his console, headphones clamped tight, eyes scanning incoming data. Suddenly, his fingers froze mid-keystroke. He stared at the screen, confusion etched across his face.
Deputy Director Maria Hill noticed the hesitation immediately. Her brow furrowed. "MacKenzie," she snapped, her tone sharp and precise.
He flinched slightly, straightening. "Yes, Deputy Director?"
"What's the situation?" Her voice cut clean through the ambient hum of the bridge. "We don't have time for hesitation with an alien army leveling Manhattan."
MacKenzie swallowed hard. "I, uh… I just got a report. A green-and-black BMW M3 GTR is tearing through Midtown—taking out squads of Chitauri. Dozens."
He paused, uncertain if he believed the words himself.
Hill's eyes narrowed. Green and black? That's Ben's car going by the description.
"Unless it's urgent, don't get distracted," she said curtly. "Stay focused."
She turned back to her screen, but her voice held a sharper edge now. "Olivia—does Ben's vehicle have a live visual feed?"
"Yes, ma'am," Olivia replied in her slow Texas drawl. "But you'll need his clearance to connect to Ariana's camera feed. I'll communicate your requested to my boss."
Battlefield – Midtown Streets, Manhattan
Three blocks east, a green-and-black BMW M3 GTR fishtailed around a smoldering tank carcass. Smoke coiled behind it. The reinforced chassis gleamed under flickering firelight. Tires screamed as the car slid into view, now with an armored look and bristling with mounted weaponry.
The twin miniguns on the hood spun to life with a high-pitched whine—then erupted in a storm of bullets. Chitauri infantry were shredded mid-charge, armor and flesh dissolving under the relentless fire.
A low-flying chariot swooped in to retaliate. The BMW's roof-mounted EMP emitter pulsed with a shriek of electricity. The chariot froze mid-air, systems fried, before crashing into a storefront in a burst of fire and shattered glass.
The car surged forward, afterburners roaring as it launched off a debris ramp. Mid-flight, the electro-net launcher on the front bumper fired—catching two alien speeders in a crackling web. They slammed into a fuel truck behind them. The resulting explosion rippled down the block in a wave of fire.
The BMW emerged through the blast, untouched.
Tires shrieked again as it drifted sideways, dodging a Leviathan's passing overhead causing falling from high above debrie as that smashed into the pavement inches away. Plasma blasts slammed into the ballistic shields now covering the windows, sizzling on impact.
High above, Ben grinned behind his helmet.
Four chariots peeled away from the Leviathan, diving in formation toward the car. The BMW's EMP fired again—blue lightning arcing outward. The chariots spasmed and dropped. Two smashed into a billboard, the others tore through a diner in a blast of glass and alien metal.
Ben leapt from a rooftop above, glider wings hissing open as he plunged through the air. Plasma bolts zipped past his ears. At the last moment, he tucked in, collapsing the wings—
—and dropped straight through the BMW's sunroof, slamming into the driver's seat.
Gloved hands gripped the wheel.
The car lurched forward, shields locking in place as chitauri firestormed across its frame.
Tony (over comms): "Nice landing, Stretch Armstrong. Mind helping me turn this space worm into sushi?!"
Ben yanked the wheel hard, skidding around the Leviathan's thrashing tail. Spike launchers flipped open from the rear bumper. With a hiss and THWIP, micro-thrusters launched armor-piercing spikes upward.
THOOMPH. THOOMPH.
Explosions ripped through the Leviathan's underbelly. The beast shrieked in agony, buckling sideways into a skyscraper. Tony didn't waste a second—he blasted its exposed innards with a volley of repulsors, tearing through hide and sinew.
Elsewhere on the battlefield:
Barton fired arrow after arrow, keeping a swarm of chitauri at bay. He shouted a warning as they started to overwhelm him. Natasha pushed through the pain, charging to his side and firing twin pistols with ruthless precision.
They fought back-to-back, surrounded.
Then Cap crashed into the fray, shield-first, knocking two aliens flying. "Hold the line!"
Above, lightning cracked the sky.
Thor descended like a thunder god unleashed, Mjolnir blazing. He slammed it into the ground—electricity surged outward, vaporizing a dozen chitauri in a single flash of light.
Captain America stepped forward, shield glinting under the ash-choked sky. "What's the story upstairs?"
Thor's grip tightened on Mjolnir, lightning flickering in his stormy gaze. "The Tesseract's barrier is beyond even Asgard's might. It will not yield."
Tony's voice crackled through comms, frayed with static. "Translation: We're stuck babysitting these metal-parasites. Tenison—you still alive down there?"
Ben's laughter burst over the channel, wild and unhinged. "Six of us against an entire army?Hilarious. But hey—" Tires screeched as his BMW M3 GTR plowed through a pack of chitauri foot soldiers, alien bodies crumpling under reinforced alloy."—history books love underdogs!"
Natasha arched a brow. "Underdogs? You're driving a million-dollar death machine."
"Your point?" Ben shot back, the car's mounted plasma cannons whining to life. A Chitauri chariot erupted mid-air, raining molten debris. "Stark, you seeing this? Ariana's got better moves than your Mark Six."
Thor's voice boomed, cutting through the banter. "Loki's scheming ends here. I will drag him back to Asgard myself."
Barton adjusted his quiver, readying his arrows. "Oh yeah! Get in line," he quipped wanting to settle his own score with Loki.
Ben snorted."Cool story, Goldilocks. But last save the family drama for the after party. "
Cap's jaw tightened. "Focus. Loki wants us divided. We stay—"
A roar of engines drowned him out. Banner pulled up on a battered motorbike, his glasses askew, surveying the apocalypse with a scientist's detached horror.
"So, this all seems horrible," Banner said, shaking his head.
Natasha shot him a wry smile. "I've seen worse."
"Sorry," Banner offered quietly.
"No, we could—use a little worse," Natasha replied, her tone light but her eyes serious.
Captain America raised his voice into his earpiece. "Stark, we got him. Just like you said."
Inside his Tony's HUD, his voice echoed. "Then tell him to suit up. Me and transformer-boy are bringing the party to you."
Tony streaked around a skyscraper, repulsors flaring. The Leviathan's shadow swallowed the street, its armored bulk screeching as it plowed through steel and glass. Beneath it, Ben's BMW—Ariana—weaved like a predator, turrets blazing drifting into view engine roaring and guns firing racing towards the team.
Natasha's voice trembled slightly. "I don't see how that's a party."