"James, can you give them cover fire?" Phil asked.
"I can try. But don't stand near me—I have no clue how far that thing can shoot. If it sees my muzzle flash, I might not get a second shot."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James told Phil to pull his team back. He wasn't looking to play hero. He wasn't trying to sacrifice himself—he was just confident he could avoid whatever the Destroyer threw at him.
And truthfully, this wasn't about saving the Earth or humanity.
It was about progress.
James needed to get closer to the Tesseract—the space gem. If possible, he wanted to claim it for himself. Even if that wasn't feasible, just being near it might allow him to absorb some of its energy.
Right now, his entire plan revolved around personal strength. This was the Marvel Universe, or something close enough. It was the only name he could use to separate it from his original reality.
In this place, power was everything. If he wanted to survive and live comfortably, he had to become stronger. SHIELD was just a stepping stone to something bigger. And besides, he liked the mystery, the thrill of it all.
His heart started pounding. Since his last enhancement, his heart rate could spike above 500 bpm during combat without his heart exploding or his veins popping from the pressure. Normal human heart rates ranged from 60–100. Athletes sometimes clocked lower. But James? He'd gone beyond.
At 500+ bpm, his strength, reflexes, and cognitive speed were seven to eight times that of a normal human. But unlike Captain America, his state couldn't be maintained long—it drained nutrients fast. Steve Rogers had a drug-enhanced body with long-term efficiency. James didn't. And Cortana couldn't reverse-engineer the genetic code yet.
Everything slowed down as Cortana processed trajectory and environmental variables.
James stood, bracing the sniper rifle—left hand on the barrel guard, and finger on the trigger.
Bang!
The 7.62mm round flew from the barrel, trailing air current. James tracked it through the scope.
Down below, the Destroyer had just knocked Sif away and was preparing to fire. Its faceplate opened, energy charging in its core.
The bullet entered the helmet, ricocheted, and struck something inside.
A small explosion burst from within. Nothing major, but it staggered the Destroyer, interrupting its attack. Then it raised its head and locked onto James' location—800 meters away.
"Huh. That actually worked," James muttered.
[Confirmed. Minor internal explosion detected. Structural integrity still intact. Energy core location is confirmed to be internal, but direct destruction is unlikely.]
"What about grenades?"
[More effective, theoretically. But close proximity is extremely dangerous.]
James smirked. "Yeah, but nothing beats getting close to danger and feeling like a hero."
He stowed the rifle. The Destroyer hadn't shown any signs of firing yet. Either it couldn't—or it didn't think he was worth it.
"Phil, I'm going in. Don't follow."
James jumped into a SHIELD vehicle, tossed his gear into the seat beside him, and floored the gas. The engine roared as he shifted gears and tore through the town.
Thor stood up in the distance in front of him, as if to stop him—but James wasn't backing off.
He turned the wheel and hit the brakes hard, then gas it to start slipping, spun into a controlled drift. The rear of the car slid wide, but didn't touch Thor, successfully avoiding him. Then James hit the accelerator again.
The Destroyer's face plate opened. Energy swirled inside.
James pulled out his Beretta 92F with his right hand and fired out forward, shattering the front windshield—bang, bang, bang. The bullets went inside its face, bounced inward, and disrupted the energy buildup once again.
The Destroyer twisted violently once more, faceplate shifting close and open.
Cortana drop 2 grenades on James left hand, as they drove close to the Destroyer, he hurled the grenades already cooking inside the faceplate, timing it just right as it opens.
James drove past the Destroyer as the grenades exploded.
Seeing minimal damage, the car lurched as James slammed the brakes. In a smooth motion, he walked out the car, going face to face with the Destroyer. 'I really didn't want to use this
"Cortana, deploy the Umbra Sentinel, chest and arm"
[Deploying.]
Sleek black plating unfolded from his chest to the right arm—locking into place with metallic clicks. The arc reactor on his chest surged to life. His right hand locked into its target snapped forward with a sharp whine as it powered up.
The Destroyer regains control once more, facing toward James and opening its faceplate—light building fast, forming the familiar deadly glow. It had regained its stance, starting to rechannel the Odin force for another blast.
James didn't hesitate.
Bracing himself, powering the repulsor on his hand to maximum, and let Cortana sync his shot.
[Target locked. Core stability: rising. Fire now.]
A blinding pulse ripped from his hand. The Repulsor Blast screamed through the air and punched directly into the glowing slit of the Destroyer's faceplate—just as it began charging its beam.
The result wasn't subtle.
A violent spark chain burst from inside the construct. Its armor spasmed, then twisted as internal power feedback surged through its body. The glow inside its head snapped off like a lightbulb exploding from the inside.
Thor stared, stunned. James had no reason to fight this battle—yet he was doing it anyway.
But James wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about not dying.
The Destroyer swelled unnaturally. Its plates bent and bulged.
The Warriors Three grabbed Thor and ran. James went back in his car and drove fast.
Then came the real explosion.
WHUMPHH.
The Destroyer detonated. The shockwave leveled the town, flattening buildings and tearing through the streets. A massive energy surge followed it.
James had made it out of town—but not far enough. The shockwave slammed into him and launched the car many meters ahead, James got flung out through the open driver door since he had no seatbelt on.
[Adjust trajectory. Follow my lead,] Cortana said.
James twisted his body midair, stretching out his limbs and using his right hand repulsor, angling his body to kill spin and bleed velocity for a safer landing.
He landed hard, feet-first, rolled with the momentum, and tumbled across the dirt like a parkour professional launched from a cannon.
When the dust settled, he looked like someone who'd been buried alive.
Covered in dirt, coughing up dust, he stood and brushed himself off as he quickly stored the armor back in his storage space. His mouth tasted like sand.
He turned and looked back.
The town was gone.
But the fight was over.
James started walking towards what was left.