The silvery-white Schicksal fleet, like moving mountains, hovered above the shattered skyline of New York. Cold muzzles and weaving Valkyries spun a web of death, sweeping away the remnants of the Chitauri army like autumn leaves. On the ground front, surviving police and civilians gazed at the scene in the sky as if divine soldiers had descended, a mix of post-disaster daze and unbelievable ecstasy. However, on this battlefield that was rapidly being brought under control and heading toward victory, there was still a discordant blue light, like a stubborn tumor embedded at the top of Stark Tower, continuously emitting unsettling spatial fluctuations.
The quinjet, like an arrow flying against the current, passed through the relatively "clean" aerial corridor cleared by the Schicksal forces and plunged straight toward the source of the storm. Outside the porthole, Valkyries clad in various armors could be seen streaking past like meteors. They were efficient and calm, occasionally casting a glance at this jet that was clearly a "local creation" yet dared to charge toward the core, but they did not stop it—evidently, it had been identified as an "allied unit" in the highest directives.
The closer they got to Stark Tower, the denser the lingering Chitauri wreckage and energy turbulence became. The tower itself had been damaged in the previous melee, its outer walls covered in scorch marks and holes, but the main structure still stood. The portal device on the rooftop, constructed from complex machinery and Tesseract energy, was emitting an increasingly unstable blue light, as if realizing its end was near and making a final struggle.
The jet made a forced landing on a relatively intact observation deck in the middle of the tower. The hatch opened, and Artoria and Minerva leaped out, met by piercing cold winds and the thick smell of gunpowder. The chaos of the city below and the solemn background of the Schicksal fleet in the distance became a remote tapestry at this moment. Their attention was entirely focused on the final flight of stairs leading to the top floor, and at the end of those stairs, the faintly visible dark green figure leaning on a scepter embedded with the Mind Stone.
"Keep close to me, Minerva," Artoria said softly, her golden magic lightsword condensing once more, the light flowing along the blade more solid and sharp than ever before. With the Herrscher of Truth's perspective fully expanded, she could "see" the chaotic spatial energy on the rooftop, the violent radiation from the Tesseract's core, and Loki himself, whose power, though still strong, faintly carried a scent of bluffing and madness.
Minerva nodded silently, the long blade in her hand—a combination of Uru metal properties and Runic runes reinforcement—already unsheathed, its body flowing with a shimmering light of interwoven blue and silver. Her optical sensor locked onto the area above, calculating every possible attack angle and energy node. One in front and one behind, like the most synchronized hunters, they stepped onto the stairs leading to the final confrontation.
On the top floor of Stark Tower, the originally luxurious and modern space had been transformed into a temporary, eerie altar filled with Asgardian and Chitauri styles. The Tesseract was placed in the center of a complex energy extraction and amplification device, its blue light pulsing like a heart, maintaining the slowly shrinking spatial rift overhead. Loki stood with his back to the stairs, looking up at the fading rift and the Chitauri army being ruthlessly slaughtered by the Schicksal fleet outside, his silhouette exuding a chilling sense of desolation and frenzy.
Hearing footsteps, he slowly turned around. That once handsome and elegant face was now stained with dust and a trace of dried blood, his ice-green eyes burning with resentment, spite, and a hint of desperate madness. He looked at Artoria, then at Minerva, who stood ready beside her, his lips curling into a twisted arc.
"Ah... look who's here. The'special' friends my dear brother made on Earth." Loki's voice was hoarse, filled with undisguised sarcasm. "Brought your cold toy to witness my 'failure'? Or perhaps... to enjoy the pleasure of ending it all yourself?"
"End this, Loki," Artoria's voice was cold, her sword tip pointing at him. "Shut down the portal and hand over the Tesseract. Your farce needs to end."
"A farce?" Loki laughed neurotically, as if he had heard a great joke. "You call this a farce? I was so close to succeeding! So close to making this tiny, backward, filthy World grovel at my feet! It's all because of you! Because of you! And Thor! And those silver flies that appeared out of nowhere!" He pointed toward the Schicksal warships in the sky outside, his eyes filled with bone-deep hatred.
"You never succeeded, Loki." Artoria took a step forward. Her Herrscher of Truth perspective allowed her to clearly see the disorder of the divine power within Loki and the unstable connection between him and the Tesseract. "You are just immersed in your own fantasies and madness, using lies and destruction to cover up your emptiness and jealousy. Look outside, look at the innocents who died because of you, look at this city you've torn apart! Is this the 'throne' you wanted?"
"Shut up!" Loki interrupted sharply, slamming his scepter into the ground. The Mind Stone's light flared as a powerful mental shock mixed with frost magic surged forward! "What do you know?! What right does an unknown monster like you have to judge me?!"
Artoria was well-prepared. The "friend of asgard" mark on her forehead grew slightly warm, and an invisible mental barrier combined with her own steadfast will neutralized the shock. Simultaneously, the lightsword in her hand blazed with light as an extremely condensed golden sword beam tore through the air, aimed straight at Loki's face! It wasn't meant to kill, but to force him to interrupt the energy guidance to the Tesseract.
Loki swung his scepter to parry, the scepter and lightsword colliding and exploding in a burst of blinding energy sparks. His figure flickered as he cast an illusion, instantly leaving several indistinguishable afterimages in place while his true self appeared behind Artoria's side, the scepter thrusting toward her heart with sinister frost energy!
However, Artoria's Truth perspective had already seen through the deception. Without turning her head, she swung her sword back, accurately blocking the scepter. At the same time, Minerva moved. Her figure was like a ghost, cutting between the two at a speed exceeding Loki's reaction. Her long blade drew a cold arc, slashing straight at Loki's wrist holding the scepter! The Runic runes flowing on the blade suddenly lit up, carrying properties of magic-breaking and shockwaves.
Loki was shocked and could only hastily withdraw his scepter to defend, but he was jolted by the terrifying kinetic energy and runic power in Minerva's blade, his arm going numb as he stumbled back and hit the edge of the control console. A flash of alarm and anger crossed his eyes; he clearly hadn't expected this "toy's" melee capabilities and weapon to be so strangely powerful.
"Together! Subdue him as quickly as possible!" Artoria shouted. Coordinating perfectly with Minerva, they flanked him from left and right, their sword light and blade shadows enveloping Loki like a violent storm. Artoria's swordsmanship fused Saber's grand majesty with her own precise destruction of energy structures, specifically targeting Loki's energy nodes and spell wind-ups. Minerva was like the most lethal assassin, her blade techniques tricky and ruthless, her speed and power reaching an inhuman level. Combined with the armor-piercing and interference effects of her energy blade, Loki's famous illusions and magic were almost impossible to deploy, leaving him to parry miserably, several wounds soon appearing on his body.
The battle was intense but brief. Without the cover of the Chitauri army, in poor condition himself, and facing a pair of opponents with extraordinary strength and seamless coordination, Loki quickly fell into a disadvantage. He tried to use the Tesseract's energy to counterattack, but Artoria's Truth perspective always provided early warning and interfered with his energy guidance. He tried to use the Mind Stone to influence Minerva, only to find that her consciousness structure was as cold and solid as the most precise firewall, without a single flaw.
The scales of victory seemed to be tipping rapidly toward Artoria's side. In just another minute or two, Loki would be completely subdued and the portal closed.
However, just as Artoria's sword swept aside Loki's scepter and Minerva's blade was about to touch his throat—
An anomaly occurred from the most unexpected angle.
It didn't come from Loki, nor from the portal that was about to close.
Instead, it came from behind Artoria, from the airspace that had seemed "safe" due to the Schicksal fleet's control.
A pitch-black, narrow shadow that seemed to absorb all light tore through space without warning. Like the most venomous snake, it moved at a speed beyond visual capture, silently piercing toward Artoria's defenseless heart from behind!
Contained within that attack was a pure, ultimate will of "annihilation" and "plunder" directed at life and soul! Its energy level and pure malice far exceeded that of an ordinary Chitauri, even faintly surpassing Loki!
"Artoria!!" Minerva's optical sensor captured the lethal threat within a ten-thousandth of a second of its appearance, and her core processing speed instantly soared to its limit. Her logic module completed a deduction within a thousandth of a second: given Artoria's current posture and position, she absolutely could not dodge or defend against this attack. The only way to stop the attack from hitting her vitals...
Before her mind could make a decision, her body had already reacted, following the underlying logic of the "Highest Code of Conduct" personally inscribed by Artoria that overrode all other protocols, as well as some deeper drive that could not be defined by programming.
She abandoned the finishing blow against Loki.
Her form forcibly twisted and snapped back in a manner that nearly defied the laws of physics.
Her silver hair trailed an afterimage in the air.
She placed herself, precisely and without hesitation, between that pitch-black shadow blade and Artoria's heart.
"Squelch—!"
A slight yet hair-raising sound of a sharp blade piercing through an extremely tough substance rang out.
Time seemed to be infinitely stretched and frozen at this moment.
The look of impending victory on Artoria's face suddenly froze, turning into an unbelievable daze. She felt a warm "liquid" with a pale golden fluorescence and a unique energy aura splash onto the back of her neck and her cheek.
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