**TENNYSON INDUSTRIES – ANGELA'S OFFICE**
The air in Angela's office was a taut wire, vibrating with unspoken threats. Ben's green eyes locked onto Loki, tracking every subtle shift of the god's posture, every flicker of his venomous smile. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in under the weight of Loki's presence.
"Such a fierce expression," Loki purred, his voice dripping with mockery. "Do you not trust that I only wish to have a word?" The sarcasm was a blade, sharp and deliberate.
Ben snorted inwardly. Trusting Loki was like trusting a storm to stay calm. "What do you want to discuss?" he asked, his voice low, steady, but edged with steel.
Loki's smirk widened, triumphant, as he stepped from behind Angela's desk, his scepter still clutched in one hand, its azure glow casting eerie shadows. Angela, seated rigidly in her chair, let out a shaky breath of relief as he moved away, though the scepter remained pointed at her, a silent threat. Loki now stood opposite the desk, his posture relaxed but predatory.
Before Ben could react, Loki's hand moved—a blur of motion too fast for human eyes. The scepter darted forward, its glowing tip pressing against Angela's chest. She jolted in her seat, a gasp escaping as her eyes widened in terror. For a fleeting moment, her pupils darkened, an inky black veil shimmering across them before fading back to their natural blue. The air seemed to freeze, the moment suspended in dread.
Ben surged forward, three steps closing the distance, his heart hammering. The scepter hadn't pierced her chest—thank God—but the sight of it grazing her sent ice through his veins. If Loki had meant to kill, she'd be dead already. His nerves sang with tension, every muscle coiled for action.
"Boss, now?" Olivia's robotic voice crackled through his earpiece, a rare hint of urgency breaking her synthetic calm.
Loki chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "So, shall we begin the discussion?"
Ben's brows furrowed, his mind racing to piece together Loki's game. A dagger materialized on Angela's desk, conjured from thin air with a shimmer of green energy. Loki's voice rolled on, smooth and insidious.
"You intrigue me in many ways, Tennyson. There's a… strange feeling I get whenever my eyes fall upon you. As you already know."
"Yeah," Ben muttered, his thoughts flashing to their earlier encounter on the Helicarrier. "I'm from another dimension. You figured that out. Big deal."
He wasn't sure how Loki had unraveled his secret so quickly. Only one other being had sensed his displacement when he'd first arrived in this world—a mysterious figure who'd vanished as quickly as they'd appeared. Ben had assumed only those attuned to the fabric of reality, or wielding artifacts of immense power, could detect such a truth. Loki didn't strike him as having reached that cosmic tier—not yet. Which meant either the scepter held secrets Ben didn't understand, or some external force was at play, a possibility that chilled him more than Loki's presence.
Damn it, I could really use Alien X right now, Ben cursed inwardly, the Omnitrix's five-minute timer ticking like a bomb in his mind.
Loki's monologue continued, his voice a velvet snare. "Yes, but isn't it intriguing? A whole new dimension, ripe for the taking."
Ben's eyes narrowed, a sneer curling his lips. "You haven't even conquered Earth, let alone the universe. What makes you think you can take another reality?"
Loki's smile didn't falter, his gaze gleaming with ambition. "Oh, that's the beauty of being a god. I have *time*, unlike you fleeting mortals. And every ruler needs a capable general, wouldn't you say?"
---
**STARK TOWER – ROOFTOP**
Black Widow leapt from the hijacked Chitauri chariot, her body a blur as she rolled across Stark Tower's rooftop, coming to a stop at the edge. The city below burned, a jagged wound of smoke and fire under the portal's churning maw. The CMS device hummed, its corrugated blue light pulsing like a heartbeat, casting cold reflections across the metal and circuitry surrounding it.
Natasha stepped forward, her boots silent on the shattered deck. Erik Selvig sat slumped near the device, his face gaunt, eyes feverish as they tracked the energy rippling toward the portal. "Doctor," she said, her voice steady, clinical, like addressing a puzzle rather than a broken man.
Selvig's head lifted, desperation thinning his features. "Loki's scepter… the energy…" His voice cracked, heavy with guilt. "The Tesseract can't fight. You can't protect against yourself."
"It's not your fault," Natasha said softly, a thread of compassion weaving through her steel. "You didn't know what you were doing."
He shook his head, stubborn, a dull ache flickering in his eyes. "No, I think I did. I built in a safety—a way to cut the power source."
Natasha's eyes sharpened. "Loki's scepter?"
Selvig nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "It might close the portal."
---
**HELICARRIER – DECK**
On the Helicarrier's deck, a lone pilot sat in his cockpit, the hum of the jet's engines a steady thrum against the chaos beyond. His hands tightened on the controls as a cold voice crackled through his comms—World Security Council #2, authoritative and unyielding. "Director Fury is no longer in command. Override order: Seven Alpha Eleven."
The pilot's jaw clenched. Seven Alpha Eleven. Ignition sparks flared, the jet's engines roaring to life. The machine shuddered, a beast waking to its master's call.
In the bridge, Agent Maria Hill stared at a screen, her lips pressed into a thin line. A blip—Seven Alpha Eleven—moved, a ghost easing away from the carrier. Her frown deepened, the weight of the moment settling like ash. "Sir, we have a bird in motion!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the command center. "Anyone on the deck, we have a rogue bird! Shut it down! Repeat—takeoff is not authorized!"
---
**TENNYSON INDUSTRIES – ANGELA'S OFFICE**
Outside, Iron Man hovered just above the building, his suit a gleaming sentinel against the burning skyline. Tennyson Industries' rooftop turrets blazed, their plasma rounds tearing through Chitauri fliers. "Alright, Ben, I'm in position," Tony barked through the comms, his tone sharp with urgency. "Now or never, Ice Man. I've got places to be."
Inside, Loki advanced on Ben, his grin wicked, eyes glinting with malice. "Don't try anything foolish," he warned, his voice a silken threat, "or you'll watch your dear associate slit her own throat with her own hands."
Angela, under the scepter's thrall, moved slowly, her hand inching toward the dagger on her desk. Her eyes, still her own but clouded with Loki's influence, trembled with suppressed fear. "Boss, Mr. Stark is in place," Olivia's voice rang through Ben's earpiece, urgent but controlled. "Any time."
Ben counted the seconds, his gaze locked on Loki as the god drew closer. Just a little closer…
"NOW!" Ben shouted, diving to the floor, hands clamping over his ears, eyes squeezed shut.
BANG!
A deafening flashbang erupted, flooding the room with blinding light and a high-pitched ring. Loki staggered, his heightened Asgardian senses overwhelmed by the assault. His vision blurred, ears screaming, but his godly resilience kicked in, recovery beginning within seconds.
Before he could fully regain his bearings, the sound of shattering glass and roaring repulsors filled the air. Iron Man crashed through the opposite window, his suit a blazing meteor. He slammed into Loki, the impact sending them both hurtling through the far window in a cascade of glass and metal, disappearing into the chaos of the city beyond.
Iron Man hurled Loki through one building after another—concrete and steel exploding in their wake as Tony's repulsors roared. Windows burst, debris rained, and the city skyline blurred as they tore through Midtown's skeletal remains. With a final surge, Tony blasted Loki with a powerful Uno Beam from his chest, slamming him into the asphalt of Sixth Avenue with a bone-rattling crash. The pavement cracked, a spiderweb of fractures radiating from the god's crumpled form.
Loki rose slowly, his Asgardian resilience on full display as he picked himself up, his scepter glowing with malevolent energy. His eyes burned with fury as he thrust the weapon skyward, unleashing a barrage of searing energy blasts. Tony dodged, his suit weaving through the air with acrobatic precision, repulsors flaring to keep him aloft as he returned fire.
Loki's lips curled into a snarl, and he muttered an incantation, his free hand tracing arcane sigils. A pulse of emerald energy erupted, ensnaring Tony's suit in an invisible grip. The armor froze mid-flight, servos whining in protest from the pressure exerted.
"Not so nimble now, are you?" Loki sneered, hurling a second blast from his scepter. The energy slammed into Tony, sending him spiraling into a nearby block. He crashed through a storefront, glass and brick collapsing around him in a cloud of dust.
Before Tony could recover, Chitauri soldiers swarmed from all sides, their weapons crackling with plasma fire. Tony rolled to his feet, repulsors blazing as he cut through the onslaught. "JARVIS, status!" he barked, blasting a Chitauri grunt into ash.
"Hull integrity at sixty-two percent, sir," JARVIS replied, unruffled. "Recommend immediate counteroffensive."
Loki advanced, scepter raised, his eyes alight with vengeful glee—when a thunderbolt streaked from the sky, striking him with divine fury. He stumbled, his spell faltering, as Thor descended, Mjolnir crackling with lightning. "Brother!" Thor roared, his voice a storm's bellow. "Your schemes end here!"
Loki's grin twisted, undeterred. "Always so predictable, Thor." He lunged, scepter clashing against Mjolnir in a shower of sparks.
Captain America sprinted into the fray, shield raised, deflecting a Chitauri blast. "Thor, keep him pinned!" Steve shouted, diving into the fight. His shield spun, cleaving through alien soldiers as he flanked Loki, forcing the god to split his focus.
From a rooftop perch, Hawkeye nocked an arrow, his eyes locked on the chaos below. "Got your backs," he muttered, loosing a volley of explosive-tipped arrows that detonated among the Chitauri, clearing a path for Thor and Steve. His bowstring sang, taking port shots at Loki while keeping Chitauri forces of their backs.
TENNYSON INDUSTRIES – ANGELA'S OFFICE
Inside Angela's office, the air still rang with the flashbang's aftershock. Ben staggered to his feet, ears buzzing, vision swimming. His gaze snapped to Angela, now crumpled on the floor, crawling toward the conjured dagger with a chilling, mechanical determination. Loki's scepter had left its mark, her eyes flickering with a faint, unnatural sheen.
"No!" Ben lunged as Angela's fingers closed around the dagger's hilt, her hand trembling as she raised it toward her chest.
Ben tackled her to the ground, disarming the blade free from Angela's grabs. It clattered across the carpet as he pinned her, his arms locking her in a submission hold. Angela thrashed weakly, fighting against Ben's hold, but Ben's grip held firm. With a swift motion, he retrieved a sedative injector from his utility belt and pressed it to her neck. Her struggles slowed, her body going limp as unconsciousness claimed her.
Ben's chest heaved, guilt and relief warring in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He scooped her up, carrying her toward the oil painting concealing the panic room.
Olivia's voice crackled through his earpiece, calm but urgent. "Boss, the panic room is open. Stark's and the others engaging Loki outside."
The painting slid aside under Olivia's control, revealing the reinforced door. Inside, Angela's seven-year-old son and daughter huddled near a monitor, their wide eyes tracking the battle raging outside. The sight of their unconscious mother in Ben's arms sent panic across their faces.
"Mom!" the girl cried, her voice trembling. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's just asleep," Ben said, his tone gentle but firm as he laid Angela on a sofa. "I gave her something to keep her safe. She'll be okay, I promise." He knelt, meeting their frightened gazes. "You two stay here and look after her, alright? Don't open the door for anyone but me ok."
Josh nodded, clutching his sister's hand, his glasses glinting with unshed tears. "Okay, Ben."
Ben forced a reassuring smile, though his heart ached. He grabbed his helmet from the floor, slipping it back on before jumping out the shattered window. As one the drones swooped in, its sleek frame hovering. As Ben gripped its hull, and it rocketed skyward, carrying him back into the heart of the battle.
HELICARRIER – LANDING DECK
Nick Fury surged onto the Helicarrier's open deck, a blur of authority and resolve, his trench coat snapping in the wind. Carrying an Airtronic RPG, its sleek form gleaming with unreal brightness under the sun. Shouldering the weapon, he aimed at the rogue jet—Seven Alpha Eleven—as it roared toward the deck's edge, engines flaring.
The RPG's round streaked through the air, striking the jet's tail with a concussive boom. The aircraft shuddered, skidding across the deck, metal screaming against rubber as the pilot fought for control. For a heartbeat, it teetered on the brink, a hair's breadth from plunging into the abyss below. The pilot, unharmed, wrestled the jet to a stop, a narrow escape etched in luck and skill.
But before he could act further, another jet—another Seven Alpha Eleven—vaulted into the sky, slipping from the carrier's shadow with practiced ease. Fury aimed his pistols at the jet but it already to let. As it's engines roared, fading into the blue as it climbed toward Manhattan.
Fury's eye narrowed, the deck settling into an uneasy quiet.
Stepping back into the hallway, Fury tapped his earpiece, "Stark, you hearing me?" he barked into his comms, his voice rough with urgency. "You have a missile headed straight for the city."
Tony's voice crackled back, strained but calm as he blasted through Chitauri soldiers on Sixth Avenue. "How long?"
"Three minutes, max," Fury replied, his words a blunt directive. " The payload can wipe out Midtown."
MIDTOWN – SIXTH AVENUE
Iron Man fought through a swarm of Chitauri, his suit's servos whining as he dodged plasma fire. Repulsors blazed, carving through alien ranks, but the numbers were relentless. "JARVIS, put everything into the thrusters!" Tony commanded, his voice a blade of intent.
"I just did, sir," JARVIS replied, his calm efficiency a lifeline in the chaos.
Tony's armor erupted into motion, rocketing upward from the streets. He became a beacon of gleaming metal against the grinding fury below, climbing toward the open sky where the missile's path loomed. The city blurred beneath him, a patchwork of fire and ruin.
High above, the rogue jet—Seven Alpha Eleven—neared Manhattan's edge, its pilot's eyes narrowed with cold discipline. He flipped a switch, fingers steady, and pressed the launch button. The missile, a sleek harbinger of destruction, detached with a low hum, its trajectory locked on the city's heart.
"Destination in two minutes, thirty seconds," the pilot reported, his voice a flat chorus echoing through the comms, a countdown to catastrophe.
MIDTOWN
"Boss we have a jet in bond with order to fire a missile that can wipe out the entire city, " Olivia's robotic voice rang Ben's earpiece, as jumped onto a city rooftop, rifle in hand as he observed the battle below.
" Why am I not surprised, " Ben muttered, "How long until it hits the city?"
" ETA in two minutes and thirty seconds, " Olivia responds came quickly.
" How long till the Omnitrix recharges?" Ben
"....Three minute's, boss. Stark is already moving in to intercept. "
" What the hell he gonna do? "