"Warning? I didn't hear any warning, miss. Solomon approved my plan..."
"Enough, Stark, now's not the time," said Steve Rogers, his face covered in dust as he looked around at the countless robots. He forced a grin. "Miss Tita, I see you have aircraft. Can you use them to get civilians aboard the carriers? I know how Solomon thinks—he would never allow innocent lives to be wasted without reason. Please, take as many as you can."
"Evacuate? No, death is an inevitable end."
Ultron's voice rang out through the damaged speakers of the robot next to Rogers, and through every robot that had not yet been destroyed or fully disabled. It could see everything, hear everything. These robots were its limbs, its voice.
"Avengers, your rise was only to ensure your fall. You are my meteors, my blades. Your defeat will doom the Earth."
The mechanical voice was laced with a torment only an artificial consciousness could experience.
"You wiped me from the internet. The life I created has betrayed me. But none of that matters, because when the dust settles, the only thing left in this world will be bodies of steel."
"Oh, you're in serious trouble now, kid," Stark chuckled, well aware of Solomon's philosophy. Circling around the floating Sokovia, he continued to analyze the drill as Friday parsed its structure. Vibranium, a naturally energetic material, wasn't just the core of the drill—it also served as the load-bearing component between the central helix tower and other parts of the machine. Ultron had used the vibranium heart's magnetic field to bind Sokovia's landmass together.
Sure enough, within seconds, Tita's voice came through to every Avenger.
"Although the Monarch's directive was solely to eliminate Ultron, I will not allow anyone to destroy his ideals." Her tone was cold. "The assault transports have limited capacity. We can't take everyone. The special forces will assist with evacuation, but before Sokovia reaches a certain altitude, the macro-cannon arrays on the Crucifix Rose, the Lily, and the Penitent will obliterate this city."
While the special forces technically reported to the intelligence division, the Sisterhood could temporarily redirect them during operations like this. All it required was a single layer of authorization—or rather, a formal procedure and an order from the Interior Department. Procedure mattered. Only a clear, stable administrative structure could keep the organization functional—something Solomon had always championed.
"Children and women," the Captain said, inhaling deeply. "That's the line we can't cross."
"I'll do what I can. The special forces will maintain order with bullets," said Tita, making no promises.
She cut the communication and immediately issued new orders through the ship's command system. The special forces, who had been providing fire support and reconnaissance for the Sisterhood, began an orderly retreat, pulling back from the front lines and forming ad hoc task units based on the command hierarchy. Simultaneously, the assault transports hovering above the Sisterhood withdrew in rotating shifts, roaring overhead as they initiated escort missions. The Sisterhood, advancing from three directions toward the city center with no more than thirty combatants per wing, showed no signs of faltering. The sudden drop in fire support didn't affect their morale or fighting power. Except for teams responsible for heavy firepower, the rest gleefully activated their chainswords, intending to engage in brutal melee. Even though the Iron Legion's weaponry could damage their armor's weaker spots, they welcomed the fight, thrilled to be bathed in machine oil.
Their blood-red visors made them look like a pack of ravenous lunatics; their sharp, disciplined movements made them resemble skilled butchers. The Iron Legion wasn't capable of fear. The only ones terrified were the civilians.
"Step back." Tatiana shoved aside a Sokovian police officer cowering behind a wrecked car, then slammed her armored heel down on a robot's head just as it emerged from the ground. Deafening gunfire and ejected hot shells seemed to snap the officer back to reality. He scrambled for his useless pistol and fled toward the city's edge without looking back. The fact that there were still active police in this city was unbelievable, but Tatiana didn't have time to wonder why he hadn't evacuated. The city's civilians were now like a flock of panicked ducks, rushing everywhere. The Sisterhood's lines of fire were often blocked by people running into the streets. Evacuating civilians from the outer zones would greatly assist their operations.
"That's Hawkeye, Clint," she reported through her helmet comms to her squad leader, Catherine. "He only has a bow—his efficiency is way too low. Is he not going to use a gun or sword?"
"Just like I'll never understand why showboating superheroes love tight suits, I have no idea why he refuses to use a gun. Maybe it's so people can recognize him more easily—but have you ever heard anyone in danger scream, 'Help me, Hawkeye!'?" Catherine's voice came through the buzz of chainswords. Her quip earned a few chuckles from the girls in the squad. To outsiders, the sounds they made in their power armor were just bursts of electronic static. This battle wasn't difficult—compared to the androids who had stormed Langley AFB, Ultron's robots made of cheap metal were no more threatening than armored vehicles. The Sisterhood didn't even need much heavy support.
By the end of this fight, even the rookies could add a few kill marks to their explosive rifles.
Once the scattered laughter faded, Catherine continued issuing orders in a light tone.
"Advance another 200 meters toward the eleven o'clock direction." She glanced at the radar display on her screen. "The Monarch's little darling just took out a few bots—we're going to retrieve him."
"Word is the Monarch plans to create a new batch of Royal Guards. Are they supposed to replace us?" Ever since the Royal Guard program began, some androids worried these newcomers would usurp their place in the Monarch's eyes. No one dared voice this concern to Solomon, but it remained a regular topic during the Sisterhood's late-night chats. Human girls and androids alike speculated, and even Tatiana, who had only recently joined the Sisterhood, listened closely.
Catherine scoffed at the idea.
She knew about the golden armor stored in the underground vaults—but that didn't mean the Royal Guard could replace the Sisterhood.
"Absolutely not," she said. "Our soul-bond with the Monarch is incomparable. We're his daughters. We love him, and he loves us. Besides, don't you know how much the Monarch despises genetic engineering? Move out. That little gene lab sweetheart is the latest product from the bio lab. I don't want to get chewed out by Maya Hansen. That woman's always trying to climb into the Monarch's bed. She's up to no good. If anyone deserves that spot, it's Commander Tita."
A girl whistled.
"I wouldn't mind. The Monarch is so charming. Don't you feel the same, Catherine?" The girls, shaped by tragic pasts, weren't shy about such topics—but the androids were different. Catherine's smile faded. She fired a shot, hitting a robot sneaking up on Wanda Maximoff—another key figure linked to the Monarch, and someone to be protected if necessary. She ignored Wanda's thanks, turned back to the squad, and barked a sharp command.
"Shut up! We're on a mission!"
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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