Chapter 21: Seriously Injured! Tearing Apart an Interstellar Warship with Bare Hands!
The smoke and scorching heat waves slowly dissipated, revealing a shocking, charred crater in the center of the street. The melted and solidified road surface glowed with a dull red residual heat, and debris and scorched earth were scattered everywhere.
The roar of the dozens of main cannons firing in unison still echoed in the ears; the entire block was deathly silent, save for the faint sound of heat waves rolling, and unextinguished sparks drifted among the ruins.
Delta poked her head out from behind a half-collapsed wall. Her right arm still bore the injury from when Dur had shaken her, and waves of soreness washed over her.
She ignored her numb limbs, stood on tiptoe to peer into the thickest smoke at the bottom of the crater, her fingertips tightly gripping the rubble on the wall.
That carpet bombing had come too suddenly, leaving no room for evasion or buffer. Her heart tightened, and she even held her breath slightly.
Allen stood by her side, his single eye fixed intently on the center of the smoke, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
He knew very well the power of the Viltrumite warship's main cannons; ordinary planetary defenses were like paper under such firepower, let alone resisting with a physical body. Yet, Marcus had stood right in the center of the bombardment, without even any cover.
The wind swept past, carrying dust, and the thick smoke finally gradually dispersed, exposing the scene at the bottom of the crater to the two of them.
In the very center of the crater, Marcus stood quietly, his Bio-field slowly receding.
The saturation bombardment poured out by dozens of main cannons had its impact completely nullified by this invisible barrier. His clothes were as neat as before, without even a trace of scorch marks or wrinkles, and he was completely unharmed from head to toe.
And a few meters away from him, Dur was slowly pushing himself up from the scorched earth with one hand.
The injuries from Marcus's barrage of heavy punches remained; dried blood still stained his mouth and nose, and his face was still swollen and bruised. His standard-issue imperial uniform had been scorched ragged by the heat of the artillery fire, its edges charred and curled, and he looked utterly disheveled.
But it was precisely this indiscriminate carpet bombing that had forcibly disrupted Marcus's rhythm, allowing him to completely break free from the near-death, passive situation.
Allen did not miss this moment. His single eye narrowed sharply, his feet pushed off the ground, and he propelled himself from the edge of the ruins, shouting in a low voice, "While he's injured, let's attack together!"
Delta moved at almost the same time. Her right arm was still aching severely, but she did not hesitate for a second. Her figure cut in from the side, her five fingers spread into claws, and her black and white tail taut like a straight line, like an arrow released from a bowstring.
Marcus watched the two figures rushing out from left and right, then glanced at the blood-covered beast at the bottom of the crater that was currently standing up. Dur's expression was no longer just anger; it was a madness that had burned through his sanity after being pushed to the brink.
Marcus moved his feet slightly to follow, shouting urgently in a deep voice, "Watch out!"
Dur stood up. He pushed off the ground with his uninjured leg and shot up from the bottom of the crater. While still in mid-air, a hoarse, distorted roar squeezed out of his throat: "You ants! I will kill you!"
Ignoring his injuries entirely, his muscles tensed violently, and he charged headlong toward the two of them.
In an instant, the two sides were close. Allen's full-force heavy punch struck straight at Dur's face, and Delta's sharp claws simultaneously slashed toward his vital side ribs.
Dur did not dodge or evade, meeting Allen's fist head-on with his right fist.
"Crack—" A piercing sound of bones shattering exploded suddenly. Allen's entire right arm was instantly twisted and deformed in the head-on collision; bone fragments pierced through the skin and were exposed. Intense pain swept through his entire body, and he let out a muffled groan as he flew backward uncontrollably.
Almost at the same instant, Dur swept his left leg out, accurately kicking the joint of Delta's blocking left arm. Another crisp sound followed; Delta's left arm was snapped on the spot, and the tremendous force sent her flying, smashing her heavily into the pile of rubble at the edge of the crater, unable to rise again.
Having crippled the two, Dur didn't even glance at the flying Allen and Delta. His scarlet eyes locked firmly onto the approaching Marcus, and without pausing, he charged straight at him with the fierce momentum of someone seeking mutual destruction.
Marcus did not retreat. He had already rushed toward Dur, and the two collided in the low air like two crashing meteorites.
"Bang—!" Marcus hadn't expected him to be this insane. His powered-up heavy punch landed solidly on Dur's face, causing his facial bones to cave in and blood to spray wildly.
But Dur was completely oblivious to the pain; his left hand formed a blade, and using his momentum, he slashed fiercely at Marcus's chest.
"Riiip—" With a sound, skin and flesh were forcibly sliced open, and a hideous, bone-deep wound ran across Marcus's chest, blood instantly soaking his clothes.
Dur pressed his advantage, flipping his wrist, and a second hand-blade struck again with a shrill whistle, aiming directly for Marcus's throat.
Marcus did not dodge, raising his hand to block horizontally in the air.
"Pfft—" The razor-sharp hand-blade pierced directly through his left palm, the fingertips protruding from the back of his hand, leaving a shocking, bloody hole.
Just as Dur was about to pull his hand back to attack again, he discovered his wrist was being gripped tightly. Marcus's five fingers locked onto his wrist bone like a steel hoop, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't pull it back even a fraction.
In the very moment of Dur's shock, Marcus's right hand, gathering all his strength, formed a blade and thrust forward cleanly and decisively.
"Pfft—" The cold hand-blade pierced straight through Dur's chest, precisely crushing his heart.
Dur's whole body stiffened violently, the fierce light in his eyes instantly dissipated, and his body went limp and hung down.
Marcus expressionlessly withdrew his right hand that had pierced the heart, blood dripping down between his fingers. He then gripped Dur's shoulder, exerting slight force to slowly pull out the hand-blade that was stuck in his left palm; the bloody hole in his palm was still bleeding continuously.
He didn't even glance at the two serious injuries on his body, looking up at the high sky instead. That black warship was still exchanging fire with the Planet Maoendefense forces, streaks of artillery fire continuously tearing through the sky.
The next second, Marcus stomped hard on the empty air, and a sonic boom exploded around him. Ignoring the intense pain in his chest and palm, he turned into a streak of blood-colored light and shot straight into the clouds, using his own physical body as the sharpest weapon, slamming fiercely into the warship's hull.
With a thunderous roar, the thick alloy hull was forcibly pierced through by him, and the interior of the ship instantly exploded with a sky full of metal fragments and electric sparks.
He did not stop, dashing back and forth at high speed inside the warship; once, twice, three times... Each penetration carried destructive power, and the ship's energy pipelines, main cannon structures, and power core were shattered and destroyed one after another.
In just a few breaths, the entire warship was completely paralyzed, losing all power, and the massive hull trailed rolling black smoke and flames as it lost balance and fell from the high sky.
Marcus pierced out from the bottom of the hull for the last time and circled beneath the warship. He no longer continued to ram inside. He held the main keel of the hull that was breaking apart with both hands, his muscles tensed, his teeth clenched tight. The wound on his chest reopened as he exerted force, and blood flowed down along his abdominal muscles.
He held the hundreds of thousands of tons warship, slowly and steadily turning, then flew toward the empty wilderness on the outskirts of the city, finally throwing the warship wreckage steadily onto the uninhabited open ground.
After a thunderous crash, smoke and dust shot into the sky, and this interstellar massacre crisis was thus completely ended.
Chapter 22: A Tearful Choice! Total Evacuation
Three days later.
Inside the central hospital of Sok City, after emergency cleaning and repairs, the damaged ward had resumed basic operations.
The air was filled with the pungent scent of disinfectant, mixed with the faint, bitter aroma of medicinal herbs unique to Planet Maoen, quietly lingering in every corner of the corridors and wards.
Inside the private recovery room, the light was bright and soft.
Marcus sat on the edge of the bed by the window. The hideous hand-blade wound that had spanned his entire chest had completely scabbed over, with new, pale pink flesh growing in neatly, like a shallow, healing crack in the earth, shedding the shocking bloodiness from before.
The bloody hole that had completely pierced his left palm had also mostly healed within just three days, leaving only a few small, dark scars lingering in the center of his palm.
The self-healing ability inherent in the Viltrum Empirebloodline allowed his injuries to recover very quickly.
He slowly flexed the knuckles of his left hand and frowned slightly.
A dull, stiff soreness still lingered in his joints, but it no longer affected his ability to exert force or fight; his combat capability had basically been restored.
Just then, the sliding door of the ward was gently pushed open, and Delta slipped in sideways.
Her entire left arm was secured in a professional orthopedic splint, tightly wrapped in layers of bandages and slung around her neck, unable to move. Her long, black-and-white tail, which usually flicked around with agility, now hung listlessly behind her.
But the moment her gaze fell upon Marcus by the window, her amber pupils instantly lit up, sweeping away the lethargy of the past few days.
"Boss! Are your injuries healed?"
"Just about."
Marcus slowly stood up, his gaze falling on her slung arm, his tone gentle: "And you?"
Delta shook her slung arm, and her tail began to sway gently again. Her tone held a hint of ease and certainty: "I'm fine. With the recovery ability of us people from Planet Maoen, in six or seven days at most, the splint can come off, and I'll be able to spar with you again, Boss!"
As she spoke, she stepped closer and poked the new, pale pink scar on Marcus's chest with her uninjured hand. Her amber eyes were filled with unquestioning trust: "It's actually you, Boss, who was hurt much worse than me. Let me take care of you for the next few days."
Marcus raised his hand and gently brushed away her restless fingertips, his tone flat: "No need. Just focus on recovering yourself first."
Delta pouted and flicked her tail in dissatisfaction, but the brightness in her eyes didn't fade at all. Just as she was about to say something else, the ward door was pushed open once more.
Allen stood at the doorway. His entire right arm was wrapped in thick bandages and secured in a sling across his chest. The fatigue under his single eye had lessened significantly compared to three days ago, but his expression was more solemn than ever.
"You're both here. Good." He walked into the ward, pulled the door shut behind him, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Without any small talk, he got straight to the point.
"Marcus, Delta. We need to talk about what to do next."
He raised his left hand, pulled a palm-sized holographic projector from his coat, and pressed the switch. A light blue star chart hovered between the three of them, rotating slowly. His finger traced an arc across the star chart and landed on the region marked with the blue emblem of the Alliance.
"This is the star region under the jurisdiction of the Coalition of Planets. Departing from here, it's about a two-week journey."
Allen's voice was unusually serious. His single eye moved away from the star chart and swept over the two of them. His tone was low and heavy, carrying an unquestionable, realistic coldness.
"You should both be aware that this trouble has escalated completely."
"A warrior of the Viltrum Empire has died on Planet Maoen. An Imperial warship has completely crashed on this land."
His fingertip pointed to the pitch-black, blank star region on the chart—the remote area where Planet Maoen was located.
"The rules of the Viltrum Empire have always been zero-tolerance. Whenever an alien race kills their people or destroys their warships, they will never let it go."
"Now that his entire force has been wiped out and died here, it won't be long before the news reaches the Viltrum Empire."
"And then, there will definitely be stronger and more Viltrumites crossing the star sea to come for revenge."
The air in the ward seemed to have its temperature sucked away in an instant.
Delta's tail, hanging behind her, suddenly tensed, and her amber pupils constricted slightly. She opened her mouth, wanting to say, "If they come, we'll just kill them back," but when the words reached her lips, she found she couldn't say them.
She had personally experienced Dur's power. Just that one punch had numbed her entire arm and smashed her into the ruins like a rag doll. And for Marcus to kill him, his chest had been torn open with a wound deep enough to see bone, and his palm had been pierced through; he had almost lost his life.
What if those who came were stronger than Dur? What if there was more than one?
"So." Allen's gaze fell on Delta's face, his tone softening a little, but his content was not the least bit euphemistic. "I suggest you evacuate Planet Maoen immediately, have all the residents board the transport ships and freighters, and come with me. Go to the star region under the jurisdiction of the Coalition of Planets. There are Alliance fleets stationed there, and the Viltrum Empire won't dare to cross the border openly for the time being."
Delta didn't answer immediately. Her tail slowly drooped behind her, the tip gently touching the floor, motionless.
Marcus leaned by the window, not urging her. Allen also fell silent, his single eye watching her quietly.
After a long while, Delta took a deep breath and slowly raised her head.
"You're right." Her voice sounded as if it were being squeezed out of her throat bit by bit. There were no tears in her amber eyes, but they were veiled in a gray, dim light; the fearlessness and flamboyance she had possessed in the past were now shattered completely.
"I grew up on this planet. That forest outside the city, I trained there for decades. Every street in the city, every neighbor, I know them all. I thought I could protect them."
She looked down at her left arm slung around her neck and forced a bitter smile: "But I couldn't even stop one of them. If Boss hadn't been there, I would have died long ago. If you guys hadn't been there, there wouldn't be a single living soul left on this entire planet right now."
She raised her head to look at Allen, her eyes filled with the exhaustion of having her pride crushed by reality, but more than that, a determination made through gritted teeth.
"I agree. We'll go. Everyone, we all go."
Allen looked at her, silent for a moment. He didn't say any words of comfort, just nodded solemnly.
"I'll go contact the Alliance patrol fleet and have them send escort ships to receive the refugees." Allen stood up, put away the holographic projector with his uninjured left hand, and turned to walk toward the door.
The door closed gently, leaving only the two of them in the ward.
Delta stood by the bed, her tail lying limply on the floor. Marcus walked up to her and looked at her lowered head. Those black-and-white furry ears were drooping softly, like a young animal drenched in a rainstorm.
He didn't say anything like "You did the right thing," but simply raised his left hand, which still bore the scar on its palm, and pressed it gently on her head, pausing for two seconds.
"Let's go. Go tell your parents."
Delta's shoulders trembled. She raised her uninjured right hand, rubbed her eyes hard, then stood up, took a deep breath, and her tail began to sway again—though much slower than usual, at least it was no longer dragging lifelessly on the floor.
"Mhm."
Chapter 23: Parting Ways in the Star Sea! Beginning a Brand New Dimensional Journey
One week later.
Eighty kilometers west of Sok City, various types of starships were parked on a vast, temporarily leveled clearing.
Civilian transport ships, old-fashioned freighters, modified private shuttles, and even a few retired colony ships, their thrusters still bearing the marks of repaired welds.
All the ships' engines were preheated, their low hums merging together, causing the fine gravel on the ground to tremble slightly.
The clearing was bustling with people. Cat-folk, Sirius-folk, and a few other alien races moved slowly along the temporarily erected boarding ramps, carrying backpacks, holding cubs, and supporting the elderly. No one was making a scene. Occasionally, the crying of a child would ring out, only to be softly soothed and hushed by an adult.
Marcus stood on a raised hillock at the edge of the clearing, overlooking this migration. After a full week of recovery, his wounds had completely healed, leaving only a faint, light-pink mark on his chest, and the scar on his left palm had faded into an inconspicuous light color.
Familiar footsteps came from behind.
Allen and Delta walked up the hillock one after the other. The bandage on Allen's right arm had been removed, clearly indicating that his bone injury had completely recovered.
Delta followed behind him, the splint on her left arm finally removed; her long black-and-white tail had regained its former vitality, swaying briskly from side to side behind her.
"Boss!" Delta hurried to Marcus's side, following his gaze toward the massive boarding queue on the clearing. She was quiet for a moment, her tail tip gently hooking around Marcus's wrist.
Allen walked to the other side of Marcus and stood still, his single eye sweeping over the ready-to-depart fleet below, his tone lightening a bit: "The Alliance's escort ships are already waiting in orbit; two patrol ships are enough to safely escort this group to their destination."
Marcus nodded, turned to look at Allen, and said calmly: "Allen, I won't be going with you."
Allen was slightly stunned, then immediately understood. Marcus continued, his voice devoid of fluctuation: "I'm going to Earth. I asked Captain Lobster for directions before, and I remember the route."
Allen looked at him, silent for a moment. Then, his single eye crinkled, and a hearty smile appeared on his face. He didn't try to persuade him otherwise, just reached out and patted Marcus on the shoulder: "Alright. Then I'll see you on Earth later."
As soon as he finished speaking, Delta beside them suddenly looked up, her tail stiffening abruptly, and without thinking, she blurted out: "Boss! I want to go with you too!"
Marcus turned slightly upon hearing this, his gaze landing on her face. His expression was calm, without a hint of surprise, and he spoke indifferently: "If you go with me, what about your kin, your family? Are you going to abandon them?"
This sentence was like a basin of lukewarm water poured over Delta's burning impulse. The eagerness on her face stalled slightly, her fingers hanging by her sides curled, and the ear tips that had been perked up high quietly drooped a bit.
Delta looked back.
On the clearing below the hillock, the boarding queue was still moving slowly and orderly. Her brothers, wearing armbands of the temporary security team, were standing on both sides of the passage maintaining order, occasionally bending down to help up cubs who had tripped. Takul was supporting Delia as they stepped onto the transport ship's gangway; Delia was holding Roro in her arms, and the little girl was waving her small hand vigorously toward the hillock.
Delta also raised her hand and waved toward that side. Her tail swayed gently behind her, the movement very slow, like an oar passing through water.
Marcus watched her. The wind blew across the hillock, blowing her long, black-and-white interwoven hair to cover half her face, making her expression unclear.
He reached out and pressed his hand on top of her head. The pair of furry ears beneath his palm trembled slightly.
"After you've settled them down, you can just come to Earth to find me."
Delta didn't answer immediately. She lowered her head, the stray hair on her forehead blocking her eyes. After two seconds, she replied in a muffled voice: "Mm."
Marcus withdrew his hand and tilted his head toward the bottom of the hillock: "Go on."
Delta turned around. She walked forward two steps, then suddenly turned back, gave him a forceful hug with her uninjured hand, her arms tightening, her tail wrapped around his waist, lingering for only a brief moment.
Then she let go, turned, and ran toward the edge of the hillock, leaping into the air; her black-and-white figure traced a clean arc and landed steadily at the base of the transport ship's gangway.
She did not look back again.
Allen stood beside Marcus, watching Delta's retreating figure after she landed, and laughed with his arms crossed: "This girl is certainly devoted to you."
He lowered his arms, turned to Marcus, his single eye crinkled, his tone returning to his usual heartiness: "Alright, I'm off too. Her whole family is waiting for me to escort them; I can't just take her cat grass for nothing."
He reached out and gave Marcus a heavy pat on the shoulder.
"See you on Earth, brother."
After speaking, he leaped, his orange figure sweeping over the hillock, flying toward the transport ship, tracing a straight trajectory in the air before landing next to the Defense Department personnel.
Marcus stood alone on the hillock. The roar of engines below grew denser, and the first transport ship began to slowly lift off, the anti-gravity thrusters beneath its hull emitting a low hum.
He stood there watching for a while, until that transport ship retracted its gangway and its hull fully ascended, only then did he turn around and walk toward where his own medium-sized starship was docked.
Marcus stepped into the ship's hatch, and the cabin's life support system automatically lit up with a soft white glow. He sat in the pilot's seat, his fingertips tapping rapidly on the navigation panel, inputting the route coordinates he had noted down from Captain Lobster one by one, confirming the route, calibrating the orbit, and locking in the auto-cruise mode, with an estimated journey time of two years.
After setting the auto-cruise, he leaned back in his seat, his mind stirring, and opened the attribute panel.
The transparent interface unfolded silently before his eyes, and the data on it made his gaze pause slightly.
[ Super Strength: Level 4 (55%) ]
[ Super Durability: Level 4 (63%) ]
[ Super Mind: Level 4 (75%) ]
[ Super Speed: Level 4 (53%) ]
[ Bio-field: Level 4 (20%) ]
Marcus stared at the panel for a moment.
When he took the cat grass, his Super Strength was still hovering around 34%. That battle with Dur—clashing head-on, trading wounds for life, and tanking the bombardment of the warship's main cannons—had caused every one of his attributes to surge significantly. Especially the Bio-field, which had broken through from the peak of Level 3 directly to Level 4, and had even pushed an extra 20%.
He slowly clenched his left fist, the few remaining scar spots on his palm turning slightly white as his muscles contracted.
Sure enough, combat was the fastest way for Viltrumites to improve their strength.
His gaze continued to move downward, landing on the line of text at the very bottom of the panel.
[ Dimensional Travel: Level 1 (1%) ]
Over the past year, he had tried to use this ability every day. Since returning from The Boys Universe, he had never stopped. Every time, the result was the same: absolutely no reaction.
With a thought, he activated the ability.
This time, it was no longer unresponsive. The air inside the cockpit vibrated silently, and a pitch-black void slowly tore open in front of him. Unlike the previous dead silence, he clearly sensed two distinct pulls emanating from deep within the void: one was familiar, leading to The Boys Universe; the other was completely strange and unknown.
He turned off the auto-pilot and parked the starship on a nearby desolate asteroid.
Marcus stood up, picked up the alloy case containing the medicine, and stepped into the void in one stride. The moment the darkness swallowed his figure, he paused for only an instant between the two perceptions, then turned and walked toward the strange side.
The passage closed silently. Inside the cockpit, only the soft white light of the life support system remained, quietly shining on the empty seat.
Chapter 24: Airdrop into the Battle of New York! Three Leviathans Down in an Instant, Tony Stunned.
New York, Manhattan.
Scorching shockwaves swept through the entire street, carrying shattered glass and dust, while the roar of explosions slammed into eardrums one after another.
In the sky, a hideous spatial rift, like a torn wound, continuously spewed out Chitauri soldiers and aircraft. The blue light of energy cannons wove between the buildings, leaving fire and flying debris in its wake.
Piercing sirens were completely drowned out by the sound of explosions, and the entire city had become a smoke-filled battlefield.
At the intersection of Third Avenue and 42nd Street, a police car had been overturned by an energy blast, its roof crushed, the police lights still flashing silently.
Two police officers huddled behind the car door. One of the officers gripped the communicator, veins bulging on his hand, his throat already hoarse from shouting: "Boss! We can't hold them off! There are too many of these alien bastards!"
No sooner had he finished speaking than three Chitaurisoldiers went flying with a dull thud, crashing into the wall by the roadside and falling silent.
Steve retracted his shield and turned sideways, his uniform stained with scorch marks and dust. Having just cleared the three infantrymen nearby, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a Chitauri aircraft diving from mid-air. The rider on the craft raised the energy weapon in his hand, aiming directly at the police car. The blue light at the muzzle suddenly lit up, locking onto the two officers hiding behind the car.
Without a moment's hesitation, he kicked off the ground and leapt up, landing steadily on the dented roof of the police car. He held his Vibranium shield horizontally in front of him, completely shielding the area behind him, while shouting in a deep voice: "Get down!"
The two officers instinctively covered their heads and pressed themselves to the ground, their hearts pounding wildly.
Hum—
The scorching energy blast, accompanied by a shockwave, arrived with a roar. Steve tensed his arm muscles, ready to deflect the force. Yet, the expected massive impact did not come; there was only a dull explosion that went off in front of him, sending dust billowing, but not even a fraction of the shockwave managed to cross the boundary in front of him.
Steve frowned and slowly lowered his shield.
The sight before him made his pupils constrict.
A young man wearing a black casual hoodie and dark trousers was standing quietly a few meters in front of the police car. He held a metallic alloy case in his left hand. Dressed in ordinary casual clothes, with no armor and no shield, he had forcibly withstood the entire Chitauri energy blast. His whole body seemed to be wrapped in an invisible barrier, with all destructive force blocked out.
It was Marcus, who had just stepped out of the spatial rift.
Marcus's gaze landed on the round shield in the other man's hand, then shifted to the face he had seen countless times on the screen in his past life.
Captain America. Vibranium shield. Chitauri invasion.
He instantly understood where he was—the Marvel Universe, the Battle of New York, the very moment the Avengers first assembled.
Steve leapt down from the police car roof, hooked his shield back onto his back, and walked quickly to Marcus. He stood straight, his gaze neither overly scrutinizing nor filled with any unnecessary caution, and he extended a hand toward Marcus.
"Thanks for the backup." His voice was steady, carrying simplicity and frankness. "I'm Captain America, Steve."
Just as Marcus was about to reach out and take Steve's hand, two sounds tore through the clamor overhead almost simultaneously.
"For the glory of Asgard—!"
A roar, mixed with the rumbling of thunder, crashed down from the clouds. Thor raised Mjolnir high; thick, dark clouds swirled madly above him, and countless bolts of thunder poured into the hammer.
He swung Mjolnir downward violently, and the thunder filling the sky transformed into dense lightning spears, simultaneously piercing through two Leviathans advancing toward the city center.
The giant beasts' metal bone armor melted and shattered in the electric current, their massive bodies stiffened for an instant in the air, then plummeted to the ground trailing black smoke.
On the other side, Hulk's battle cry sounded like the roar of a beast: "Hulk smash!"
The giant green shadow had already leapt onto the back of the third Leviathan. He clasped his fists together like a hammer and smashed them one after another into the beast's skull, each punch shattering bone armor and causing dark purple blood to spray out.
After dozens of punches, the Leviathan's skull was forcibly smashed through, and its massive body lost power and plummeted toward the ground.
Just as Marcus turned his head to speak, a teasing voice with a metallic resonance rang out from the communicator in Steve's ear: "Captain, our Point Break lead and the big green guy have already taken care of three big monsters. Why aren't you doing your job, who are you catching up with over there?"
Steve retracted his extended hand and pressed his fingertip to the communicator in his ear: "I've got an expert here helping out, I was just thanking him."
"An expert?" Tony's voice dragged with a lazy tone, the hum of his armor's thrusters passing overhead, "How expert? As expert as our Point Break lead and the big green guy?"
Before he finished speaking, a red and gold suit of armor swept past the buildings, its thrusters tracing an arc in the air.
Tony hovered over Third Avenue, separated by the entire street, and scanned Marcus from head to toe: ordinary casual clothes, no armor, no magical artifacts, no mutated body. His eyebrows beneath the faceplate couldn't help but arch high.
"This is the expert?" Tony hovered in mid-air, tilted his faceplate toward Marcus, and raised an eyebrow, "Looks pretty ordi—"
Before he could finish, Black Widow's voice cut into the communication channel, her tone urgent: "Captain, Tony, stop chatting. We've got big trouble. Five more Leviathans have crawled out of the wormhole. Thor and Hulk are each pinning one down, there are still three that need fire support."
Tony immediately dropped the teasing, his faceplate locking with a "click": "Copy that, leave it to me."
He had just pushed down on the thrusters, preparing to take off and intercept the three giant beasts approaching the residential area, when a dull sonic boom exploded from the ground. He instinctively turned back to look.
Marcus was no longer in his original spot. The alloy case was firmly adhered to his side by a Bio-field. He had transformed into a straight black line, using his own body as a weapon, instantly crashing into the skull of the first Leviathan. Before the sound of the bone armor shattering could even emerge, his figure had already pierced through the back of the beast's neck, bringing out a cloud of dark purple blood mist.
Before that Leviathan could even begin to fall, the black line had already turned ninety degrees, piercing through the chest of the second, then entering through the eye socket of the third and exploding out of the top of its skull.
The thrusters of all three Leviathans shut off simultaneously. Their massive bodies paused for an instant in mid-air, like machines that had been unplugged all at once, and then fell toward the ground in unison.
Tony hovered in the air, his thrusters automatically maintaining balance, but his body was frozen stiff inside the armor. The scanner inside his faceplate was still faithfully refreshing data—target speed, kinetic energy readings, destruction radius—every single item was skyrocketing crazily.
The communication channel was silent for a full three seconds.
Then Tony's voice rang out again, his tone uncharacteristically devoid of any teasing: "Fine. Never mind what I said."
Chapter 25: Weaving Through the Manhattan Battlefield, Loki's Craft Shatters Instantly
Ten thousand meters above, inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier suspended above the clouds, the command hall was brightly lit, with dozens of giant holographic screens broadcasting every corner of the New York battlefield in real-time.
Nick Fury stood before the main console, his single eye unblinking, locked intensely on the young figure in the black hoodie on the holographic screen.
Street surveillance, optical logs from Tony's armor, satellite-locked flight paths—dozens of data streams were divided into dense windows on the main screen, each one repeatedly replaying the same sequence: the man crashing through three Leviathans with his bare body. It reminded him of someone.
"Hill," Fury said without turning his head, his voice extremely low, "I want all his files. And the complete data from that moment just now."
Maria Hill's fingertips flew across the holographic keyboard. Seconds later, she looked up, her expression like that of someone who had just confirmed a number she couldn't bring herself to believe.
"Sir, there is no information on him in our database. Facial recognition, biological markers, energy signatures—all zero matches." Her voice carried unconcealable gravity: "Also, his speed just now was..."
Hill's gaze rested on the flashing red number on the screen, her pupils contracting slightly.
"800 times the speed of sound."
The air in the command hall seemed to be sucked away for an instant. Several technicians operating the consoles subconsciously stopped, looking up at the main screen.
Nick Fury stared at the young man in casual clothes floating in mid-air on the screen, his single eye narrowing.
He cursed under his breath: "Motherfucker."
He then pressed the communication channel, his voice dropping low: "Tony, you should have heard what we said. Do not provoke him, or I'll only be able to send people back to avenge you."
Tony hovered in mid-air, his thrusters spewing flames, his repulsors firing in succession. Two Chitauri crafts attempting a flanking maneuver instantly exploded into fragments.
His voice came through the comms channel, his speech faster than usual, laced with the irritation of a scientist encountering a paradox: "Do you really think I'd go and provoke someone who is over two hundred times faster than me—"
He paused for a beat, his armor veering slightly amidst the hum of the thrusters, blasting away another craft that grazed past him.
"Fuck." Tony cursed under his breath.
Then his tone shifted from irritation to a deeper kind of conflict, the kind of stubbornness that only appears when facing phenomena that are completely unexplainable: "800 times the speed of sound, no shockwave, no damage to the surroundings—this is simply unscientific."
Before he could finish, the armor streaked toward the next block of fighting, its thrusters dragging a brilliant gold-red arc across the sky.
On the other side, Marcus's figure flashed silently across the entire battlefield. He passed straight through the smoke-filled window of a burning apartment, securely shielding two trapped children in his arms, and landed gently beside a fire truck on the street; in the blink of an eye, he appeared three blocks away, crushing the energy core of a heavy Chitauri mech with one palm, snapping off the main gun mount with a backhand, and tossing the entire mech aside, smashing it fiercely into the cluster of soldiers approaching the defensive line.
The pressure on the police defensive line suddenly eased. Several officers didn't even see who had attacked; they only saw the enemies in front of them suddenly flying sideways.
Steve looked up in the gap between shield blocks at the straight black line weaving rapidly across the battlefield, the corners of his mouth lifting as he said: "With this expert helping, the battlefield is much easier."
Barton nocked another arrow on the rooftop, pulling the bowstring taut. The black line in his field of vision had already cleared all aerial threats in the entire right sector for him. He released the string, hitting a target on the other side, and said into his comms: "I don't know who this guy is, but I'm going to buy him a drink."
Marcus's figure never stayed in any one place for more than three seconds. Like a precision black missile, he constantly turned and wove through the Manhattanskyline, every landing and flash precisely placed in the most critical areas of the battle.
Just then, an unusual flight path entered his peripheral vision.
In the distance, a Chitauri individual craft streaked rapidly along the high-rises. On the craft, Natasha's red hair was blown back by the high-speed airflow; one hand steadied the control stick, while the other pressed against her earpiece as she sped in a certain direction.
Less than two hundred meters behind her, another craft was in hot pursuit. Loki sat on the craft, his cape trailing behind him in a dark green line, wearing his signature, confident sneer. The scepter in his hand had begun to charge, the blue light at its tip growing brighter and brighter.
A bolt of energy shot from the tip of Loki's scepter. Natasha yanked the control stick, the craft narrowly dodging it. The energy bolt grazed the right side of the fuselage, blowing off half the tail wing.
She gritted her teeth, steadying the tilting craft and attempting to pull up, but the control stick began to vibrate violently in her hands; the damaged tail wing had completely lost its propulsion balance. The craft began to roll uncontrollably to the right, its altitude dropping sharply.
Natasha looked back. Loki's scepter had finished charging again, the blue light this time brighter than the last.
Just the moment before the energy bolt was fired, the Black Widow released the control stick, kicked hard against the craft with both legs, and ejected herself to the side.
The energy bolt struck the craft dead center. Ten meters behind her, the entire craft exploded into a fireball.
The shockwave of the explosion hit her from behind, completely disrupting her previously controlled trajectory. She lost all leverage in the air, her limbs splayed uncontrollably, falling straight down with her back toward the reinforced concrete dozens of meters below.
Marcus had already moved the moment the energy bolt hit the craft.
His figure vanished from where he stood, appearing in front of Loki's craft the next instant. The sneer on Loki's face hadn't even had time to fade before he saw a black shadow crashing toward him.
Marcus's fist smashed directly through the front armor of the craft, his entire body passing through the interior, and the craft exploded into a mass of twisted metal fragments behind him.
Loki's body was like a baseball hit into the air, ejected backward from the explosion's flames, drawing a pathetic parabola in the air as he fell straight toward Stark Tower.
His back smashed through the glass curtain wall of the top floor of Stark Tower. The Mind Scepter flew from his hand, clanging as it hit the edge of the helipad, rolling half a circle before coming to a stop.
Loki's figure disappeared inside the building, leaving only the lingering sound of shattering glass echoing.
Marcus didn't spare him another glance. At the same moment he pierced through the craft, his figure had already descended, chasing in the direction Natasha had been blown away by the shockwave.