"You coming or not?"
Even through the phone, Peter could hear the heavy breathing on the other end.
Not the kind that came from leisure—but from relentless work.
At the top floor of a sealed high-rise, streams of data and schematics flashed across multiple screens. Mechanical arms moved in precise coordination as a new suit of armor was being assembled piece by piece.
In the past three days, Tony Stark had slept less than three hours.
Every ounce of his focus had gone into upgrading his armor.
"I'll be there."
Tony's voice was low, steady.
"I've been waiting for this moment."
He glanced back at the nearly completed suit behind him, eyes burning with anticipation.
He had waited long enough.
-----
At the same time, on the outskirts of New York…
Within a secluded estate, a sleek black jet slowly lifted into the sky.
For promises made—
And debts owed—
The X-Men were mobilizing in full force.
Every available combatant had been called in.
With the military unable to mount an effective response, this half-official, half-civilian force had become humanity's frontline.
Soon after, Peter finished his own preparations and boarded a Quinjet with the others from the Helicarrier.
The aircraft cut through the sky, heading straight toward Washington, D.C.—now completely overrun and reduced to enemy territory.
"Oh… my God."
The moment they reached the outskirts of the city—the designated rendezvous point—Steve Rogers couldn't help but whisper in shock.
Before them…
Was a vision of apocalypse.
Unlike the movie scenario, where the Avengers had intercepted the invasion almost immediately after the portal opened—
This time, the Chitauri had faced no resistance.
The wormhole had opened over an unprepared, undefended Washington.
Nearby military bases had responded quickly. Troops were deployed, reinforcements rushed in, and attempts were made to contain the invasion.
But—
They were facing an alien army.
Their weapons couldn't penetrate Chitauri defenses.
Their armored vehicles were shredded like paper under alien fire.
Only heavy artillery had any chance of dealing damage—but against fast-moving aerial units, such firepower was too slow, too clumsy.
It didn't take long.
The reinforcements were annihilated.
And after that—
Came the slaughter.
Washington, D.C. was reduced to ruins under the brutal assault of the Chitauri.
…
Banner's breathing grew heavier.
A flicker of anger ignited in his eyes.
This wasn't a movie.
This wasn't fiction.
This was real.
And he could feel it.
Sona, standing nearby, looked on with quiet sorrow. Her gentle nature made the destruction before her almost unbearable to witness.
Even if she followed Peter's commands without question—
She was still who she was.
And it was that kindness that had earned her the trust of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury… allowing her to stand among the Avengers.
"When do we attack?"
Steve's voice cut through the silence.
Just three days ago, he had left this city to board the Helicarrier.
Since awakening, he had been living here—because it brought him closer to Peggy.
And now—
Everything he recognized had been reduced to hell.
The newly enhanced super-soldier clenched his fists, fury evident in every line of his body.
"Not yet," Peter replied calmly. "We wait."
He glanced at the others.
The anger in their eyes didn't go unnoticed.
And he approved.
Anger wasn't a weakness.
It was fuel.
It sharpened resolve. Strengthened will.
Especially for Banner—
The angrier he became…
The stronger the Hulk would be.
But this wasn't a reckless charge.
The Chitauri had already established formation.
After taking Washington, they hadn't rushed outward. Instead, they consolidated their position—clearing the city, fortifying their foothold.
That was the difference between an army…
And a mob.
Thanos didn't conquer the universe through chaos.
He did it through discipline.
…
Knowing this wasn't the right moment, the group returned to the cabin, waiting in tense silence for the rest of their forces to arrive.
It didn't take long.
A sharp sonic boom echoed through the sky.
On radar, a fast-approaching object appeared.
Moments later—
With a thunderous impact, a massive figure descended from above, landing heavily near the Quinjet.
The metallic weight alone told Peter everything he needed to know.
The hatch opened.
And Tony Stark stepped inside.
Behind him, visible through the open door, stood a towering three-meter-tall armored machine—bristling with weapons, its design aggressive and imposing.
War Machine.
"Not bad," Peter said with a smirk. "Looks like you didn't waste these three days."
Tony ignored him completely.
Dark circles framed his eyes as he slumped into a seat, closing them almost immediately.
He needed rest.
But peace didn't last long.
Within minutes, another aircraft appeared—the sleek silhouette of a Blackbird jet.
It descended smoothly, landing nearby.
The hatch opened.
Scott Summers stepped out first, visor gleaming under the light.
Behind him came Ororo Munroe—Storm herself.
Then—
Two familiar figures.
Quicksilver.
And his sister.
And finally—
At the rear of the group—
Two elderly men walked side by side.
Together, they were nearly two centuries old.
Magneto.
And Professor Charles Xavier.
A rivalry for the ages.
…
Peter glanced at the group, then nodded approvingly.
"Now this… this is what I call firepower."
His gaze lingered briefly on Magneto and Professor X.
"Looks like your side's packing a bit more punch."
But then—
He felt it.
A gaze.
Sharp.
Lingering.
Unmoving.
Peter didn't need to turn to know who it was.
And for once—
He didn't dare.
He had promised to visit them.
Said he'd make time.
But he hadn't.
Busy as he was, the most he had managed was two video calls a week.
For girls who had just fallen headfirst into love—
That was… pushing it.
The fact that they hadn't dumped him yet?
Honestly—
That was already a miracle.
--------------
T/N:
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