"Do you know something?"
Leon floated above the kneeling Avengers, the Mind Scepter gleaming faintly in his hand.
"With this scepter, I could rewrite your minds—turn you into obedient puppets, just like that one."
He gestured toward Loki's "corpse" lying on the ground.
"But I chose not to. Do you know why?"
"Because you're sick!"
Steve Rogers charged forward without hesitation, driving an elbow strike toward Leon—
Only to be swatted away mid-motion, the blow augmented by telekinetic force.
He crashed across the pavement.
"Steve Rogers," Leon said calmly, "you are the weakest among them. You're hardly worth restraining."
"Your shield is broken. Why continue?"
Steve forced himself back up.
"Because I'm human."
"A flesh-and-blood human."
Blood streaked his brow. He grabbed a bent steel rod and advanced again.
Leon's expression did not change.
"Human?"
"So fragile. So insignificant."
A flick of his finger—
Steve was hurled backward once more.
Leon did not kill him.
He wanted to see him break.
And yet—
Steve stood again.
And again.
Leon did not particularly admire him on a personal level—but this willpower?
It was worthy of recognition.
Humanity's hymn is the hymn of courage.
To act, knowing you cannot win.
"Why stand?" Leon asked softly. "Kneel, and I may spare you. The Great Titan does not target individuals."
"Only death treats all things equally."
At that moment—
A voice crackled through Steve's earpiece.
"Avengers. I need to inform you of something unfortunate."
It was Nick Fury.
"The Council has authorized a nuclear strike. A high-yield missile capable of leveling Manhattan is being prepared. I'll delay launch as long as I can. Evacuate immediately. Tell Thor and Hulk."
Steve froze.
"What…?"
The steel rod in his hand bent under unconscious pressure—
Then slipped from his grasp.
Clang.
Tony and Natasha—though gagged by steel restraints—showed the same stunned disbelief in their eyes.
On a distant rooftop, Hawkeye nearly lost his footing in shock mid-combat.
We are ready to die fighting—
Why are you surrendering first?
The thought echoed through all of them.
But reality pressed in.
Endless Chitauri.
Four Avengers captured.
The three strongest among them bound and helpless.
Only Hawkeye and a shieldless Captain America remained standing.
Despair crept into Steve's bones.
Slowly—
He removed what remained of his shattered helmet.
There was nowhere left to retreat.
And no civilians left who could retreat either.
Then—
"EBONY MAW!"
Steve roared and leapt forward, crossing over ten meters in a heartbeat—his human body smashing against overwhelming telekinetic pressure.
"Pointless."
Leon froze him midair with a flick.
Another gesture—
Steel surged upward.
In an instant, Steve was bound like the others—kneeling in a row.
Tony.
Thor.
Banner.
Natasha.
Now Steve.
The Avengers.
Defeated.
The World Watches
All of it—
Broadcast live.
The stream came from a channel titled "NieR's Moving Castle."
The host—
A tall blonde woman with a single high ponytail, asymmetrical bangs, and a pristine white commander's uniform.
Arcee.
Her camera feed was flawless.
Government cyber teams attempted to shut her down.
They failed.
No location trace.
No signal breach.
Her commentary had been passionate, relentless from the first explosion until this very moment.
Now—
She faced the camera, hand pressed to her chest.
"Even Captain America has fallen."
"Is this where the war ends?"
She shook her head fiercely.
"No!"
"The oceans, the skies, the land—this planet is humanity's home!"
"We will not surrender a single inch!"
"New York will not kneel to alien fire!"
Her expression sharpened.
"But where is the military?"
"Why has no official force intervened?"
"Have they abandoned New York?"
"Have they abandoned its people?"
"This is Commander White."
"I will remain here with you—live—until the very end."
"May humanity's glory endure!"
The chat exploded.
"May humanity's glory endure!" × thousands
Other comments flooded in:
"This response time is NOT normal."
"Maybe Manhattan's already been written off."
"No way. Too many elites live there."
"Bro, does anything look normal right now?"
"Where's Homelander?"
"Yeah, where's your so-called national symbol now?"
"He's probably fighting on the other side of that portal!"
"Wake up."
Then—
A new comment.
With an image attachment.
A sewer-level angle, looking up through a 2.5 cm crack in a manhole cover.
In the distance—
Leon's back.
Five floating steel orbs.
And—
Mjolnir.
Lying less than half a meter from the manhole.
Within arm's reach.
Chat froze.
Then erupted.
"No way."
"Brother, you're HIM."
"Pick it up."
"DO IT."
"Wait—"
The final message cut off mid-type.
"Watch out—he noticed—"
The screen stuttered.
Then flooded with:
"Brother, rest in peace."
"You lived straight to the end."
Above—
Leon slowly turned.
His gaze drifting.
Toward the sewer grate.
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