The air above Manhattan trembled.
A sonic boom rippled through the clouds as the silver-armored figure reappeared mid-flight, diving headfirst toward the ground. Energy bled from its wings—jagged arcs of violet and black. Every window in a five-block radius shattered at once as it struck the street with an impact that seemed to pause time itself.
The explosion of force cratered the road, sending asphalt, rebar, and shattered concrete into the air. Vehicles nearby were flung like toys, and streetlights snapped like twigs. Dust clouds roared outward, swallowing entire intersections in gray.
And from the heart of the crater, the figure rose.
Its armor pulsed with primal energy, etched with runes that shimmered like molten steel. The weapon it once held as a staff had shifted—now a double-bladed spear, its edges serrated with pulsing violet electricity. With a slow, methodical turn, the figure scanned the battlefield. There was no urgency. No rage. Just certainty, as if it had already won.
Then it moved.
In a blink, it vanished from the crater and reappeared behind a squad of SHIELD agents. The agents barely had time to register its presence before the spear slashed through the air. Shields and rifles shattered on impact, armor peeled away like foil. The agents were hurled back—but not slain. A wall of shadows intercepted the final blow.
Alexander stood between them and death.
His shadow cloak trailed behind him like a living storm, tendrils swirling and tightening with rage. Cracks ran through his armor, and blood stained his lip, but his stance was unwavering.
"You've made a mistake," he said, voice steady and cold. "You stepped into my shadows."
The figure tilted its head ever so slightly, like a machine analyzing a threat.
Their clash was instant.
Void and cosmic energy collided with such violence that the ground buckled beneath them. Every strike of blade against spear unleashed thunderous shockwaves. Light twisted unnaturally, shadows lengthened, glass imploded. The air screamed.
Alexander's strikes were ferocious, fueled by resolve and sheer will—but this enemy moved with eerie precision. It wasn't brute force. It was control. Every parry, every dodge, was a masterstroke.
Elsewhere, the Avengers regrouped.
Thor landed beside Captain America in a surge of lightning, armor scorched and breathing heavy. "The creature fights like a warlord of the Nine Realms."
"Then we give it a war it won't forget," Steve said, gripping his shield. He looked to the chaos erupting around them. "No more distractions. Everyone fights."
Tony soared overhead, micro-missiles deploying from his shoulders. "I'll thin the skies. Try not to get stabbed while I'm being amazing."
High above, the swarm from the second vessel was still pouring into the city. Tony weaved through the fliers, blasting left and right. "JARVIS, prioritize clusters. And if you see another one of those spear guys—warn me first."
"Understood, sir. Targets locked. Releasing countermeasures."
Natasha's voice cut in. "We've got the last of the civilians through the breach. We hold this ground now." She crouched behind a damaged SUV, reloading with quick, fluid motions. One of the remaining agents passed her a fresh clip without a word.
"I never thought I'd say this," Natasha muttered, "but I miss Loki. At least he monologued."
On the far end of the field, Bruce Banner emerged from cover. He wiped sweat from his brow, breathing deeply, fists clenched. The weight of what he was about to unleash sat heavy on his face.
Steve called over comms, "Banner, we're out of time."
"I know," Bruce replied. "I'm always angry."
With a roar that echoed down the ruined avenues, he transformed. The Hulk burst from the alleyway, a freight train of muscle and fury. He hurled himself at the nearest Chitauri beast, grabbing it mid-charge and slamming it through a wall.
Alexander, locked in combat, barely turned as Hulk arrived—but the silver figure did.
It raised a hand.
And caught Hulk's punch.
The shockwave from the impact shattered the street again. Hulk skidded backward, shock and confusion in his expression.
Alexander didn't hesitate. He vanished in a puff of black smoke—reappearing behind the figure with his blade poised. He drove it toward the joint in the figure's back.
But the figure spun at the last second, deflecting the blow. Even so, Alexander's shadows reacted. They erupted from the ground, binding the figure's arms and shoulders.
"NOW!" Alexander roared.
Mjolnir soared through the sky.
The hammer collided with the figure's chest in a flash of blinding blue. The resulting thunderclap knocked everyone nearby to the ground. The enemy flew backward, crashing into a flaming vehicle, which exploded on impact.
For a moment, silence.
Smoke and fire billowed from the wreckage.
Clint, crouched behind rubble, peered through his scope. "Did we get it?"
The flames parted.
The figure walked out, armor scorched but unbroken. It was slower now. Not weakened—focused. Even more dangerous.
It raised a hand toward the swirling portal above the skyline. The second vessel responded immediately.
A red beam of light speared downward, piercing the atmosphere like a spear from the gods.
And through that beam, something massive began to descend.
A shadow darker than night.
Its silhouette was unclear—fluid, ever-shifting—but its size dwarfed even the Chitauri Leviathans. It roared, and the very air quivered.
Alexander looked up, jaw tightening. "It's not over yet."
End of Chapter 82
_________________________________________________________________________
🔥 Hey legends! Quick updates! 🔥
💥 Can't wait for the next chapter? Good news—ALL advance chapters are available on Patreon for just $5! No more waiting, just pure binge-reading goodness! 🚀
👉 patreon.com/cyci07
✨ Power Stone Challenge! ✨
If we hit 100 power stones, I'll drop 2 bonus chapters! Let's see if you guys can make me suffer! 😂
💬 Enjoying the story? Leave a review and let me know your favorite moment so far! It helps the novel grow and reach more readers!
Thanks for all your support—you guys are awesome! ❤️