The Tesseract activated at 2:47 PM.
A beam of blue energy shot skyward from Stark Tower's penthouse, piercing the clouds like a lance. Justin watched through his suit's optical zoom as the sky... tore.
A portal opened above Manhattan. Circular. Vast. And through it—
Aliens poured into Earth.
"Sir," AEGIS said, voice calm despite the apocalypse unfolding. "Chitauri invasion force detected. Estimated strength: ten thousand units and growing. Leviathan-class organisms incoming. Recommend immediate engagement."
"ARES Division, execute defensive protocols. Frank, you have ground command. All units: protect civilians at all costs."
Justin activated his Prometheus Suit's jump jets, launching toward the nearest concentration of Chitauri soldiers. The aliens were exactly as he remembered from the movies—gray-skinned, armored with organic metal, flying on anti-gravity sleds.
They were also dying.
His suit's arm-mounted plasma weapons spoke, each shot designed specifically for organic-armored targets. Chitauri vaporized. More came. Justin held his ground at a street intersection, creating a chokepoint while civilians streamed past behind him.
"Evacuation Route Alpha is clear," Yelena reported through comms. "Moving to Bravo."
"ARES Team Two holding at 43rd," Frank added. "Heavy engagement but manageable."
The Avengers were in the sky—Iron Man's repulsor blasts, Thor's lightning, Captain America's shield cutting through alien formations. Justin caught glimpses through the chaos. Heroes doing what heroes did.
But heroes couldn't be everywhere.
A Chitauri blade punched through his shoulder armor.
Pain—sharp, immediate, overwhelming. Justin grabbed the alien that stabbed him, his suit's strength amplified by rage, and ripped it in half. The blade stayed in his shoulder, grinding against bone.
His regeneration factor activated. Tissue knitting. Pain fading. The wound closing around the blade, pushing it out as his body repaired itself.
Three minutes later, the shoulder was functional again. The armor was damaged, but Justin was fighting.
This is why I took that power. This is why I paid the price.
More Chitauri came. Justin kept killing them.
The Leviathan broke through the Avengers' line at 3:23 PM.
Justin saw it coming—massive organic warship, easily a hundred meters long, filled with soldiers. It was heading directly toward an evacuation shelter where Frank Castle was coordinating civilian extraction.
"Frank, Leviathan incoming your position. Approximately forty seconds to impact."
"Negative evac options, boss. Three hundred civilians still inside. We're trapped."
Three hundred people. Forty seconds.
Justin made a decision.
Second power slot. Activate telekinesis.
The power he'd taken from Sarah Alen—the dying woman who'd begged him to remove her migraines—flooded into his body. He felt it settle alongside regeneration, filling his second active slot. Two powers running simultaneously. His void corruption screamed in protest.
Justin raised his arms and pushed.
Telekinetic force slammed into the Leviathan. Not strong enough to stop it—the thing was massive—but enough to redirect. The organic warship's trajectory shifted, crashing into an empty building instead of the shelter.
The impact threw Justin backward. Glass shattered. Concrete crumbled. The void marks on his arms blazed with light, visible even through his armor's interior displays.
"Sir," AEGIS reported. "Void corruption has spiked to 17%. Recommend discontinuing dual-power operation."
"Not an option."
"Your body is not designed for extended dual-power usage."
"Then I'll burn out after we win." Justin forced himself upright. "Frank, status?"
"Leviathan missed us. Shelter intact. What the hell did you just do?"
"Something expensive." Justin reactivated his weapons. "Hold the line. We're not done yet."
Tony Stark flew past overhead at 3:47 PM.
Justin intercepted a comm channel—his suit wasn't supposed to access Avengers frequencies, but AEGIS had cracked their encryption months ago.
"Stark, Hammer here."
"Hammer? What the hell are you—"
"My people are holding the ground. You focus on that portal. We'll keep casualties down here."
Silence. Then, surprise edging into grudging respect: "You're actually helping."
"We can compete later. Right now, let's save the city."
"Fair point. Don't die down there, Hammer. I'd miss our rivalry."
"No promises."
Tony flew toward the portal, and Justin returned to combat.
Four hours into the battle, Justin's armor was held together by transmuted patches and stubbornness.
He'd saved an estimated eight hundred civilians personally. His people had saved thousands more. Three ARES Division operatives were dead—killed defending evacuation points, buying time with their lives.
Justin felt each death like a wound that his regeneration couldn't heal.
Kowalski. Martinez. Chen. Good people. Dead because I put them in positions where dying was possible.
But six thousand civilians were alive who would have died without his organization.
Focus on the math. The terrible, necessary math.
"Sir," AEGIS said. "Warning: void corruption at 18%. Recommend immediate medical attention."
"After we win."
"You may not survive until 'after' at current rate."
"Then I'll survive anyway."
The portal kept spewing Chitauri. Justin kept fighting. And somewhere above Manhattan, the fate of Earth hung in the balance.
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