The cold air bit sharply as the Stark sister stumbled out of the ruined lab, her breathing ragged, the glow from her arc reactor casting eerie shadows on the cracked concrete walls. The city was no longer recognizable — fragments of skyscrapers floated like broken shards against the bleeding twilight, and the sky fractured with swirling rifts of blue and violet.
She pressed a hand against the still-warm reactor embedded in her chest, feeling its pulse sync with the frantic beating of her heart.
Who am I? The question echoed in her mind like a ghost.
Far above the chaos, Spider-Man swung effortlessly between the skeletal remains of buildings, his suit torn and scuffed but his movements precise and determined. Each leap was a defiance against the crumbling world around him.
"Hey, Cap," Peter's voice crackled through the comms, tinged with nervous energy. "You seeing this? The multiverse is basically throwing a temper tantrum."
Captain America's steady voice answered, calm but heavy with burden. "Hold your ground, kid. We're regrouping. We need a plan."
Steve Rogers' eyes were locked on the horizon, where rifts twisted and pulled at the very fabric of reality, tendrils of energy slithering like serpents through the sky.
Meanwhile, Thor stood atop a ruined skyscraper, Mjölnir raised high as lightning danced around his arm. His voice echoed like thunder:
"We face an enemy unlike any before — not flesh and blood, but time itself unravelling. If the timelines collapse, everything we know will be erased."
He glanced skyward as the air shimmered, revealing brief glimpses of alternate realities—worlds that might have been or could still be.
In the shadows, Black Widow moved with lethal grace, her every step measured, her gaze sharp as a hawk's. She scanned the surroundings for signs of danger — old wounds of the past threatening to reopen.
Her communicator buzzed. A familiar voice spoke softly: "Nat, we've got a situation. Strange is picking up unnatural magic surges. This is bigger than the last attack."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Then we don't have time to waste."
Doctor Strange appeared amid a swirl of glowing glyphs, his hands weaving complex symbols in the air. His eyes glowed faintly as he concentrated, reaching out across the tangled timelines.
"The multiverse is fracturing faster than I anticipated," he muttered. "Someone, or something, is accelerating the collapse. It's no coincidence the Stark sister has awakened now."
A ripple of unease crossed his face. "She may be the key... or the catalyst."
In a quiet, isolated room, Wanda sat alone, crimson energy crackling around her fingertips. Her eyes reflected pain and power, memories of loss flickering behind them.
She whispered, almost to herself, "The scars of the past... they always come back."
Her magic surged uncontrollably, threatening to spill beyond her control.
Back in the shattered lab, the Stark sister steadied herself against a broken console. She reached out and activated a holographic interface, streams of data and schematics flooding her vision.
Her fingers flew over the controls, searching for answers hidden deep within Stark's last projects. One file caught her eye — marked "Project Continuum."
A voice whispered in her ear, cold and distant:
"The truth will change everything. But beware — some legacies are better left buried."
Her eyes widened. Suddenly, the ground trembled violently beneath her feet. The rifts in the sky flared, sending waves of energy crashing through the city.
She looked up — a massive silhouette emerged from the largest rift, cloaked in shadows and crackling with cosmic energy.