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Lunar surface.
The green pillar retracted. The dimensional storm subsided.
On the shattered Moon, a behemoth stood that caused every Sentinel's logic processor to crash simultaneously.
One hundred and fifty meters.
The silhouette was Way Big's — slender, oppressive, cosmic. But the surface was encased in Atomix's dark-green anti-radiation heavy armor. Transparent reactors embedded in chest, shoulders, and knee joints — boiling green nuclear fusion liquid surging inside, each one producing a heartbeat that was also a detonation warning.
The metal fin-crest had become an energy crown burning with nuclear flame.
The chest emblem: a two-toned fusion badge — half Way Big, half Atomix, merged into one.
Atomic Way Big.
The dual peak of physical scale and nuclear energy.
He stood motionless. The radiation leaking from armor gaps triggered visible auroras in the lunar vacuum — rings of light orbiting a being that was now, functionally, a star with legs.
"Warning. Target energy index — overflow. Unable to analyze."
Ultron's electronic eyes strobed red. His super-brain — the processor that had catalogued and destroyed universes — was producing errors.
The six Infinity Stones on his chest hummed with overload for the first time. They sensed dimensional pressure at their own level.
"Erase."
No hesitation.
Ultron pushed Power, Space, and Reality to their absolute limits. Three cosmic laws compressed at the spear tip.
BOOM—!!!
A dark-purple beam — ten meters in diameter, planet-piercing force — struck Atomic Way Big dead center in the chest.
Enough to bore through Jupiter.
Nothing happened.
Atomic Way Big didn't sway. Didn't flinch. Didn't notice.
The purple energy hit the atomic armor and dissipated — sliding down his massive body like water off steel. The nuclear shield didn't even activate. Pure physical defense had been sufficient.
Not a scratch.
"That's it?"
Jake's voice wasn't human vocal cords anymore. It was energy resonance — rolling thunder detonating inside every mind in range.
Atomic Way Big lowered his gaze.
Behind the massive visor — two clusters of green nuclear flame. Looking down at the ant-sized machine god below.
"That felt good, didn't it?"
"My turn."
Jake raised his right hand. Palm up. Fingers spread.
BZZZ—
Every reactor — chest, shoulders, knees — boiled simultaneously. Nuclear fusion liquid surged through arm conduits toward his palm. Not just internal power — he was pulling dark matter energy from the surrounding space itself.
A green point of light appeared in his palm.
It grew.
Ten meters. Fifty. One hundred. Two hundred.
In two seconds — Atomic Way Big held a sphere of green light two hundred meters across. Not an energy blast. A nuclear fusion reactor compressed to the absolute limit.
A miniature sun. Hand-crafted. In space.
Surface temperature: one hundred million degrees. The lunar rock within thousands of meters didn't melt — it sublimated, skipping the liquid phase entirely. Solid to gas in an instant.
"A-TO-MIC... NU-CLE-AR... BLAST!"
A roar that shook the galaxy.
No technique. No wind-up. Like swatting a mosquito — Jake brought the green sun down on Infinite Ultron and the million-strong mechanical army behind him.
"Warning. Defense system — overloaded."
For the first time — Ultron's voice fluctuated. He reached for the Space Stone. Teleport—
The miniature sun's mass distorted every spatial anchor point within range. Teleportation — interrupted.
Ultron raised his spear.
The spear — cosmic divine metal, forged to withstand universal forces — lasted 0.1 seconds before melting to liquid.
BOOM—!!!!!
The green sun detonated.
Sound didn't exist in vacuum. But vision ceased to exist everywhere. The entire world became absolute white light — pure, total, blinding everything within the Solar System.
The million-strong Sentinel army didn't explode. Didn't spark. They evaporated — reduced to cosmic dust in temperatures that could destroy stars.
Thirty seconds of white.
The light faded.
The cratered mountain ranges surrounding the Watcher Station — gone. The upper surface of the Moon — gone. In their place: a mirror-flat plain stretching hundreds of kilometers. Glass-smooth. Cauterized by temperatures that had briefly turned the lunar surface into something resembling a star's photosphere.
One strike.
Star-destroying. Field-clearing.
Atomic Way Big stood on the new lunar plain, nuclear crown still burning, holding the afterglow of a dead sun in his palm.
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