Unfortunately, the Infinite Fist currently has many limitations.
First, it must use the Infinity Stones as its energy source. Second, the power is too vast, and Lock cannot control it with precision.
Once he acts, it will definitely be earth-shattering!
If he were to fight on the ground, a single strike could destroy a city. Such power cannot be used recklessly.
Only if, in the future, he can refine the energy of the Infinity Stones to his will, could it ever become as flexible as Captain Marvel's power.
At this moment, the staff on the Helicarrier and the civilians on the ground finally realized the danger was over. A tidal wave of cheers erupted!
Countless people looked at the lone figure standing atop the tower. Though they could not see him clearly from afar, his presence was majestic beyond measure.
Some among the religious even began to kneel and pray toward him.
But what most people, including Lock himself, did not notice was this—when the two Infinite Fists blocked the Chitauri's star-bomb, a small stream of energy slipped past, breaking through the wormhole and vanishing into space.
That ray of blue light struck something hidden in the void.
A massive hunk of metal suddenly shimmered into view. The impact had torn through its cloaking, and from the shadows emerged a vast spacecraft. Its edges were jagged where the hit had cut into its hull, and its stealth systems flickered.
Inside, a group of blue-skinned aliens with ridged chins and pointed ears howled in alarm.
One of them quickly stabilized the ship's controls, forcing it back into stealth.
But not before dozens of Earth's satellites recorded the anomaly.
This ship, however, was not entirely unknown. A handful of people on Earth knew of them. Nick Fury was among them.
They were the Skrulls, the very same race that had arrived with Captain Marvel more than twenty years ago.
Now, one adult Skrull stared down at Earth with lingering fear, muttering in his heart: When did Earth gain such a peerless warrior besides Captain Marvel?
Lock, on his side, carried away the Tesseract.
This decision immediately caused headaches within the Time Variance Authority.
Originally, in the sacred timeline, Thor was meant to return to Asgard with Loki and the Tesseract.
The Mind Scepter was meant to remain on Earth, eventually giving birth to Vision.
But now the timeline had shifted dramatically.
Lock had already grasped the Infinite Divine Fist—there was no chance he would hand the Tesseract to anyone else. Who was more qualified than he to keep it safe?
As for the Mind Stone, with Loki fleeing through the wormhole, who knew whether Vision would even be born?
But these were matters Lock could not be bothered with.
Let the TVA pull titshair out.
Besides, his system rewarded him with a new surprise.
The moment the wormhole closed, a cascade of "ding, ding, ding" sounded in his mind—reminders of how many lives he had saved, and how much the Avengers' trust in him had risen.
That trust manifested as luck shared with him.
Even Captain America, who had been distant at first, now showed a trust level of 50%.
In his inventory, the number of healing potions had stacked so high that a golden potion auto-synthesized.
One million lesser potions combined into a purple potion.
By the end of it, Lock had gained: 1 purple potion, 50 golden potions, and thousands of ordinary ones scattered about.
New York. Lock's house.
Since buying it, he had not set foot here again.
When he entered, he immediately noticed dozens of hidden traps laid throughout.
If an intruder forced their way in, they would be stunned or incapacitated instantly. Obviously, Black Widow's handiwork.
Lock ignored them with ease, strode in, showered, and sprawled on the sofa with the TV on—like returning to his shut-in days from his past life.
The war had shaken the world. Superheroes could no longer remain hidden.
Fury gave up on secrecy and instead began guiding public opinion.
Captain America quickly became the darling of the masses, saving countless lives and basking in a glory that stretched back over seventy years.
Reporters swooned as women recounted how they were rescued by him, their eyes glittering like fangirls—much like Daisy's starry-eyed look whenever she watched Lock.
Iron Man, already a global celebrity, rose even higher. From Playboy to savior, his legend was cemented.
Even the Hulk gained his own fanbase.
In the West, there is never a shortage of admirers for hulking muscle—and the Hulk was muscle beyond compare.
Thor, now revealed to the world as a true god, drew flocks of religious devotees and power-seekers. But uninterested, he simply swung Mjolnir and flew off.
And yet, the one who remained the most mysterious was the lone figure who had stood beneath the wormhole.
Almost no one had clear information on him.
Partly due to Fury's secrecy, partly because Lock rarely interacted with ordinary people.
Most of the time, he flew through the skies, avoiding cameras, his face hidden from public eyes.
By the time the battle at Stark Tower had reached its peak, civilians had already evacuated. All they ever glimpsed was a silhouette, blurred against the sky.
Thus, this godlike hero became a mystery to the public.
Still, whispers spread—perhaps intentionally released by Fury—that he had come with Thor. Many began to assume Lock was another god from Asgard.
Lock didn't care.
In the past, he might have feared villains targeting him if he gained too much fame. But now? Such worries were beneath him.
When strength reached a certain point, public opinion lost its weight.
One evening, Black Widow returned from her missions. Without a word, she leapt onto Lock, her legs coiling around him like a serpent.
The sparks that followed lasted long into the night.
...To show respect, there should be more space here.
Later, Natasha rested her head on Lock's arm, absentmindedly tracing circles on his chest.
Lock drew out a golden potion. "Natasha, this should heal your body completely—let you bear children in the future."
Her eyes lit with joy. She took the vial, about to drink—but stopped.
"Lock… wars are breaking out constantly. I don't think now is the right time."
She looked at him cautiously. "You… won't blame me, will you?"
Lock chuckled. "How could I? Honestly, I've never even thought about being a father this suddenly. I still feel like a kid myself."
Indeed, a man does not truly grow up until he shoulders responsibility.
And Natasha was right—the coming years would be full of turmoil. There was no time to think of children.
Even Iron Man's daughter, Morgan, was born only in the quiet after Thanos' defeat.
But for now, Natasha soon returned to her rhythm—missions every few days.
Lock grumbled inwardly. Fury had no sense at all. Next time, he'd make him pay consulting fees until S.H.I.E.L.D. went bankrupt.
Bored, Lock strolled the city one day.
Sipping coffee in a small shop, he unexpectedly spotted a familiar face—the immigrant smuggler who once ran a shady "passage shop."
The man, along with two thugs, was devouring burgers. Seeing Lock, he burst out laughing.
"Hey, Oriental! Didn't expect to see you here!"
Lock remembered him well for robbing him of two dollars.
The smuggler remembered Lock, too—not only for that incident, but because he was an Asian face that had stood out.
The three swaggered over, surrounding Lock's seat.
"Look at you now," the smuggler sneered. "Dressed sharp, living nice, huh? Doing well for yourself?"
Lock had no patience for this.
From his coffee cup, three drops of liquid slowly rose into the air, swirling, deadly—ready to end them right there.
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