The Chitauri invasion had ended that night, but S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were still stuck cleaning up the mess—and dealing with some truly reckless enemies.
The aliens had left behind a ton of weapons, and now some gangs were planning to arm themselves with Chitauri tech.
"Move it, boys! Strip those freaks and grab the gear! Hurry up!" The Chitauri were roughly human-sized, and their armor and weapons fit humans just fine.
On the stage of a crumbling, abandoned theater, the gang was busy at work.
Their bearded boss watched eagerly as his men disassembled the gear piece by piece. He strapped it on himself with excitement. Chitauri armor was made from cosmic metal—bulletproof. Their wrist cannons packed serious punch, and they came with collapsible rifles stored on the back. It was seriously top-tier tech.
Now those weapons were in the hands of criminals. Once the full suits were on, the boss looked down to see blue gem-like lights glowing on his arms and sides. His helmet sealed itself, and with that, he instantly figured out how to operate the gear. Wrist cannon, energy spear, collapsible rifle, grenades—for a total of four weapons between commanders and regulars. He could use them all.
"This feels amazing. With this stuff, a bank vault's no better than a wet paper bag. Our good days are here." The bearded man was thrilled. Alien tech really lived up to the hype.
The gang hyped him up with praise, and he beamed with pride. "We've still got a few more sets. Hurry up and strip 'em. From now on, we run New York."
Honestly, you couldn't say the gang leader was wrong. He was bold and capable. He thought to use alien gear for crime—but he seriously underestimated the government. Just as he was getting cocky—ding—he saw something fly in.
A flashbang.
"Ahhh—!"
The sudden burst of light blinded his men. But thanks to the armor, the boss wasn't affected. He knew this meant the cops had arrived. He immediately fired in all directions.
Orange fireballs burst from his wrist cannon, blasting the theater's old walls and shaking the entire building.
"Open fire!" Rat-a-tat-tat! The two flanking agents opened fire as well. Their bullets pinged and sparked off the armor's surface.
The boss laughed. He knew this stuff was bulletproof. He fired two blasts toward where the bullets were coming from—Boom! Boom!
Bricks flew. The blast sent the agents flying like rag dolls. Not every agent was Captain America. It might look like the Avengers were slicing through Chitauri like nothing, but when regular agents stepped in, it was a whole different story. This alien gear packed firepower on par with a rocket launcher—and it could fire repeatedly without needing to cool down.
"Hahaha! That's it! This is the power I've been waiting for!" The boss felt more confident than ever in his plan to rob banks and take over turf.
Ada saw her teammates go flying. She frowned. Whoever was inside had gotten way too full of himself. She raised her pistol, dashed into the theater, stepped onto a seat back, and leapt forward, gun raised.
Bang!
One clean shot—straight to the boss's upper arm.
Ada had already killed who knew how many Chitauri. She knew their armor didn't cover the upper arms, thighs, or hands and feet. She had no hesitation attacking the weak points. The only reason she didn't go for the kill was because this guy was human.
The boss groaned in pain and clutched his cannon arm. That hand could no longer lift.
"You'd better surrender now." Ada stood balanced on the narrow seat back, steady as any elite athlete. She raised her pistol with one hand and aimed at her target.
The bearded man hadn't even had time to enjoy his moment before things went sideways. Furious, he shouted, "Surrender your ass!" His wrist cannon was out of commission, so he grabbed a Chitauri grenade from his belt. Even the Chitauri rarely used these on the battlefield. "Die!"
The square-shaped grenade blinked rapidly with blue light, warning everyone nearby to get out fast. But the enraged gang leader had no idea how powerful it really was. He just hurled it.
It flew to the center of the theater, hovered mid-air, and suddenly stopped blinking.
That didn't bring any sense of relief. In fact, a wave of dread swept through everyone present.
Woooooooom—BOOM!
A spherical shockwave burst outward. Ada felt a massive force slam into her and send her flying. Thankfully, her burning Microcosmos energy formed a protective shield. She was tossed aside but unharmed. That grenade packed the punch of a missile. No wonder even the Chitauri barely used them—it was practically a suicide bomb.
The gang boss was also blown away, tossed like a paper boat in a hurricane. Shrapnel tore into him like a storm of bullets, like getting hammered by a heavyweight champ's lightning-speed punches. There was no time to react.
Woooooooom—CRASH!
The blast expanded outward and burst the decrepit theater wide open, like a melon exploding from the inside.
The shockwave was heard across New York. It stretched for several kilometers before dying down. The entire theater vanished, replaced by a crater.
Ada lay at the bottom of it. Her Microcosmos had shielded her, proving once again that only Microcosmos could resist Microcosmos. She wasn't injured at all. She stood in silence, surveying the devastation, then walked toward the gang boss.
He was barely alive. At that range, no one could survive a blast like that. Even the Chitauri only used grenades for suicide attacks.
The bearded man looked up at Ada's expression of pity, blood bubbling from his mouth.
"Using weapons you don't understand only ends up hurting yourself," Ada sighed. She'd lived through two different worlds. One thing remained the same—humans loved playing with things far beyond their understanding.
"…Ki…ll… me…" The man was in agony. The explosion had shattered his internal organs. Every breath collapsed his lungs. Death was only a matter of time, but each moment before it was sheer torment.
"Kill… me…" he begged.
Ada aimed her pistol at his forehead. "It didn't have to be this way. Rest in peace."
"…Thanks…" the man whispered, closing his eyes peacefully.
Bang. Ada didn't like killing people. But in the end, she showed mercy and ended his pain.
Her two teammates were dead. The rest of the gang was dead. The alien weapons were destroyed in the blast. This mission had been a disaster.
Still, it proved just how dangerous alien weapons really were. If someone mishandled one again, this kind of tragedy could happen all over again.
Ada pulled herself together and resumed collecting what was left of the gear. It reminded her of the old days when she was recovering viral samples.
Back then, the only threats around her were zombies. Now she had to protect innocent people, not just herself.
Between the two, recovering viruses had almost been easier. Now, her burden was much heavier.