But New York has never been a city that surrenders easily.
The very second the wormhole opened, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s global surveillance system issued a highest-level alert.
Red warning lights flashed in the headquarters' hall, and all screens simultaneously switched to the view above New York.
Fury stood in front of the big screen in the command center, staring fixedly at the Chitauri warriors pouring out of the wormhole. His face was expressionless, but his fists were clenched tightly at his sides.
"All units, Level 1 combat readiness! New York City, initiate the highest-level emergency plan, evacuate civilians, and activate all ground defense systems." Fury's voice echoed through the communication channel.
"Agent Hill, contact the Pentagon. Coulson, mobilize all available Quinjets. Natasha, Clint Barton—are you in New York?"
Natasha's voice came through the communicator, mingled with the sounds of explosions and screaming from the streets.
"Just arrived, Midtown Manhattan. The situation is very bad, Director."
Fury didn't say anything more. "Then take action immediately!"
"Where is the Captain?" Fury asked next.
"Arriving soon," Steve responded in a low voice.
Natasha hung up the communicator and poked her head out from behind an overturned taxi.
She was wearing a black tactical suit, holding a pistol in each hand, her eyes as sharp as a leopard's.
Beside her, Clint Barton crouched behind the wreckage of a bus, his bow fully drawn, the arrowhead aimed at a Chitauri flying board diving in the sky.
Clint Barton released the bowstring, and the arrow cut through the air, precisely piercing the pilot of that flying board.
The Chitauri warrior's skull mask was shattered by the arrow, and its body fell from the board. The board lost control, crashed into a nearby building, and exploded into a fireball.
Natasha fired at the same time, her two pistols alternating shots, the bullets precisely hitting two low-flying boards.
The Chitauri warriors' bodies fell from the sky, smashing onto the street with a dull thud.
But more Chitauri warriors were pouring in; they were like an endless torrent, continuously gushing out of the wormhole and covering the entire sky.
Tony's figure flew in from the direction of Manhattan, his red and gold armor cutting through the sky. His thrusters were firing at full power, leaving a long blue trail in the air.
Dozens of micro-missiles fired from his shoulders and back, precisely hitting the Chitauri warriors charging from the front, and the flames of the explosions connected into a single sheet in the sky.
"Jarvis, scan the energy fluctuations of the wormhole!"
"Sir, the wormhole's energy source comes from the Space Stone. The energy output is extremely stable, and it cannot close naturally in the short term."
Tony swerved in the air, dodging a laser beam. "Then find a way to close it! Has Banner arrived?"
"Dr. Banner is approaching, expected to arrive on the battlefield in thirty seconds."
Before the words had faded, a green figure descended from the sky like a meteorite, smashing into the most densely packed area of the Chitauri army.
The ground caved in beneath him, and the shockwave sent the surrounding Chitauri warriors flying.
He stood up—tall, strong, with bulging muscles, his dark green skin gleaming with a dull luster in the setting sun.
Hulk.
He looked up at the dense swarm of enemies in the sky and let out a deafening roar.
That roar pierced through the sounds of explosions and screams, pierced through the screeches of the Chitauri, and rolled over the streets of New York like a thunderclap.
The Chitauri warriors hesitated for a moment, shaken by the roar; it was the biological instinct of fear toward an apex predator.
Hulk grabbed a diving flying board and pulled hard. The board shattered in his hands, and he grabbed the Chitauri warrior by the head, crushing it like an egg.
He smashed the corpse into another board; the two boards collided and exploded into a fireball.
Tony hovered in mid-air, watching Hulk sweep through the army on the streets, and couldn't help but whistle.
"Banner, your temper arrived just in time."
Hulk didn't answer, just continued to smash, throw, tear, and bite—no technique, only pure violence and rage.
On the ground, more S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents had arrived.
Fury jumped down from a Quinjet, his black trench coat flapping in the wind.
He held his gun, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, and quickly made a judgment.
"Natasha, Clint Barton, clear the ground. Agent Hill, provide aerial fire support. Coulson, take your men and evacuate the civilians east of Eighth Avenue."
A confirmation reply came through the communicator.
Fury looked up at the sky covered by the Chitauri army; there was no fear in his single eye, only a cold, almost calculating glint.
Just then, a familiar figure rushed over from the other end of the street.
The figure was astonishingly fast, weaving through the gaps in the Chitauri army, stepping on the wreckage of a board with every step, leaping over a fallen Chitauri body with every stride.
The red, blue, and white Vibranium shield in his hand reflected a dazzling light in the setting sun.
Steve Rogers.
"The Captain is here!" a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent shouted.
Steve charged into the battlefield, his shield flying from his hand, tracing a precise arc in the air, knocking down three Chitauri warriors in succession before bouncing back into his hand.
He landed and crouched behind an overturned taxi, joining up with Natasha and Clint Barton.
"What's the situation?" Steve's voice was steady, without a hint of panic.
Natasha glanced at him. "You're late, but not too late."
Clint Barton shot another arrow through a flying board.
"The evacuation in the North District needs cover. Can you break through?"
Steve stood up, shield in hand.
"Leave it to me."
He rushed out, his Vibranium shield blocking two laser beams, his pace never faltering.
He jumped onto an overturned truck, used it to leap up, and smashed his shield into a low-flying board, knocking the Chitauri warrior down.
The moment he landed, the shield was already back in his hand, and he continued to charge forward.
Fury watched that red, white, and blue figure carve a path forward through the gray torrent, the corners of his mouth slightly raised.
"Nice work, Captain."
Not far away, in a Villa in New York, Mavuika was there, and Wanda stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the sky outside stained red by the flames of war.
Her hands pressed against the glass, her fingertips trembling slightly, as dark red Chaos Magic swirled around her like an anxious snake.
She could hear the screams, the explosions, and the screeches of the Chitauri warriors—they pierced through the glass, pierced through the walls, and pierced through her defenses.
Pietro stood behind her, holding a bottle of water, but he wasn't drinking it. His body was slightly tilted forward, like a fully drawn bow.
He could see the Chitauri warriors pouring out of the wormhole, he could see Tony fighting in the air, he could see Hulk roaring on the streets, and he could see people running.