Inside St. Paul's Cathedral, chaos reigned.
Yet, in the face of powerhouses on the level of the Ancient One and Odin, the might of the Cybermen appeared rather feeble.
Confronted with these monsters—abominations originally modified from human stock—those present had little inclination to ponder anything else.
With a casual wave of her hand, the Ancient One released a surge of energy that caused a large swath of Cybermen to detonate instantly. Meanwhile, Odin wielded Gungnir, the Spear of Heaven, easily piercing through ranks of the metal soldiers.
The only issue was the sheer speed at which these things appeared. Furthermore, the presence of the spatial rift prevented the deployment of any abilities related to extra-dimensional spaces.
Thus, for the moment, the Ancient One and Odin were forced to confront these inferior adversaries head-on.
"Do you require me to summon the warriors of Asgard?" Odin asked casually, though he knew it was unlikely he would receive the Ancient One's consent.
Nominally, Earth belonged to the Nine Realms under Asgard's management. But in the current Nine Realms, who could truly claim authority over the Ancient One, the Master of the Dark Dimension?
Not to mention the existence of Bul-Kathos, an entity whose power defied comprehension.
"Not for the time being. If the need truly arises, I would prefer the warriors of Asgard to appear before a genuine calamity," the Ancient One replied flatly.
The current Earth was too frail. Although superheroes would soon emerge in an explosion of activity, the planet remained far too fragile.
A single Thanos could render this planet helpless. If Earth were to face the Seven Great Evils in such a state, destruction would be a foregone conclusion.
The Ancient One even planned to intentionally go easy, allowing a single Cyberman to escape so that organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. could pursue it.
It was necessary to force humanity to unite in the face of a tangible enemy, lest they continue to waste their strength on internal strife.
Although reports of everything happening in London had long since landed on the desks of various key officials, these people could not be allowed to rest. Once they learned that Hell was real, who knew which madman would try to pull back the curtain on a new Age of Exploration?
Humanity didn't understand, but the Ancient One knew all too well.
For humans, Hell was a scorched earth where survival was impossible. Even if it possessed land without end, it held little value. However, Hell represented a twisted concept of "immortality," and the Ancient One had absolute faith in politicians.
She had faith that, when faced with profit and temptation, they would absolutely not do the right thing.
As for research?
One of Earth's greatest scientists was here, experiencing these events firsthand. Research was inevitable.
Thinking of this, the Ancient One felt a flicker of anticipation regarding just how far Tony Stark could go. Could he become the Iron Sorcerer Supreme she had glimpsed within the river of time?
"These things... they seem to be getting stronger bit by bit. Or am I being too sensitive?" Odin muttered after shattering several Cybermen with the shaft of Gungnir.
He felt that the bodies of these Cybermen were slightly harder than they had been at the start.
To Odin, the change was merely the difference between crushing one ant versus crushing two. But the increase in strength was undeniably real.
"That is unimportant. What matters now is when Bul-Kathos can resolve the Demon Lord on the other side, allowing the Doctor to close this spatial rift," the Ancient One said, closing her eyes as she blasted another Cyberman apart with a precise burst of energy.
The energy she used contained not a shred of excess; it was calibrated exactly to the threshold required to destroy them. Therefore, she was even more acutely aware of the Cybermen's adaptation than Odin was.
"I feel like I'm just getting in the way here. Can I leave? Looking at those hollow eyes makes me feel like I'm going to have nightmares," Constantine remarked with abject boredom, though his body was trembling ever so slightly.
Just moments ago, the severed arm of a Cyberman had suddenly grabbed his ankle and delivered an electric shock.
Constantine didn't know how they did it, but he wasn't surprised. After all, wasn't it normal for robots to be remote-controlled?
In any case, once the Ancient One and Odin realized this, any Cybermen they smashed were now rendered completely immobile.
At the rear of the battlefield, Constantine and Daimio huddled together, while Tony Stark held the severed head of a Cyberman, studying it intently.
Everyone unsuited for frontal combat had retreated to the corners to avoid interfering with the vanguard.
Every time Constantine saw Rorschach's violent fighting style, he felt a twinge of fear. He was terrified that if a Cyberman were to take him hostage, Rorschach would simply punch through him to kill the machine.
The Doctor, whose combat prowess was rather average—even frail—stood guard with his sonic screwdriver, watching the Cybermen surging forward like a tide.
His expression was grim, yet not overly worried. After all, in this encounter with the Cybermen, he was surrounded by beings fully capable of handling them.
His primary concern was the monster that looked like a Dalek.
A Dalek with tentacles wasn't surprising; the creature encased within the pepper-pot shell was essentially indistinguishable from a small octopus.
But tentacles growing out of the pepper-pot casing? That was abnormal.
Even the largest Dalek specimen would simply occupy a larger casing; it wouldn't look like an adult wearing a child's clothes, with fat spilling out of the seams.
It was grotesque.
Nimuë stood at the front lines with Rorschach, battling the Cybermen. She was no longer the fragile woman the Doctor had first met; she was now the infamous Blood Queen.
Combat? Mere drizzle to her.
Rose Tyler, however, watched Nimuë weaving through the battlefield like a dancer with a look of displeasure. Jealousy tainting her voice, she asked the Doctor, "Fine, you always manage to attract the affection of girls. But have you figured out how to deal with the Cybermen yet?"
"I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with that Dalek covered in fleshy tentacles," the Doctor replied, furrowing his brow.
A Dalek's combat power was not something a Cyberman could rival, and their assimilation technologies were worlds apart.
For a Cyberman to fully convert a human, they had to send the victim to a factory to face mechanical arms and saws, finally encasing them in that red-hot steel suit.
A Dalek was much more efficient. Their nanoclouds would invade a human upon contact, instantly beginning the transformation into a Dalek puppet.
Inside that little pepper pot was merely a creature of flesh and blood resembling a small octopus, yet the technology of that casing was beyond the comprehension of normal humans.
"I recall you saying these things were converted from humans?" Tony asked thoughtfully, turning the Cyberman head over in his hands.
His metal-gauntleted fingers scraped against the Cyberman's skull, producing a harsh screeching sound.
Tony was filled with curiosity regarding the existence of these Cybermen.
He had a vague feeling that perhaps some humans on Earth had already achieved this twisted form of immortality. Although he had no evidence, the intuition was strong.
Perhaps it was fate, but Tony began to form a long chain of associations regarding the Cybermen's mode of existence.
"Inside that helmet is a human brain. I wager you wouldn't want to crack it open and see for yourself," the Doctor said. But as he spoke, his eyes suddenly lit up. He had an idea.
"Mages! Do you have any methods to attack the soul!?" the Doctor shouted loudly toward the figures fighting at the front. The chaotic noise of the battlefield made quiet conversation impossible.
"You mean to say, inside these metal shells, there are human souls?"
Tony's face was written with astonishment. With a exertion of force, his hands tore open the outer casing of the Cyberman's head. The trembling human brain inside was exposed to everyone's view.
"Urgh!"
Rose Tyler was standing relatively close to Tony. Although she was devoted to the Doctor, they were currently in the middle of a spat. Thus, she had subconsciously drifted closer to Tony—perhaps his unique charm with women was at work.
The moment Rose saw the brain, still quivering like jelly, the stubborn, strong-willed woman couldn't control her reaction.
"Well, looks like that guy is dead for sure," Hellboy, who was lying obediently on the ground, furrowed his brow. The crown of fire above his head flickered.
He had some resistance to disgusting things—he could even tolerate a wet goodbye kiss from Baba Yaga, that withered old witch. But that didn't mean he could look at a brain covered in vomit without expression.
Although he lay prone, every muscle in his body was tense.
With Imperius's "help," Hellboy had finally recovered his consciousness, but he was currently struggling against the authority of Hellfire gifted to him by the Demon Lord Satanis.
The conflict between his bodily instincts and his will meant his condition was not as comfortable as it appeared.
"Lady, I have to ask, what did you eat before coming here?" Constantine pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. The smoke made the smell slightly more bearable.
After all, the sour stench of partially digested food mixed with the high temperature was thoroughly off-putting. Constantine could tolerate it, but there was no need to suffer.
"By the way, mages have countless ways to harm a soul, but I assume you're asking for a method that only targets the soul?" Constantine turned his head to address the Doctor.
When the Doctor arrived, Constantine hadn't had a chance to display his magical means, so his identity as a mage had been unintentionally overlooked.
"Give him a quick end, Playboy!" Daimio turned his head to continue watching the battle. Beside him lay Johnny Blaze, who had not yet awakened.
"I really didn't want to get this stuff on my suit. The armor on my hands alone costs a fortune."
Tony placed the object, which had become indescribably disgusting, onto the ground. Fortunately, the back of the Cyberman's helmet was seamless, so he wouldn't need to clean his body afterward.
Then, the "flashlight" in his palm drove a beam of light into the Cyberman's remaining brain.
Once converted into Cybermen, all emotions were suppressed. Their minds contained nothing but obedience and slaughter. There was no need to worry about whether this unfortunate Cyberman would be left with psychological trauma.
Cybermen had no feelings.
"He was beyond saving, Rose. You don't need to blame yourself," the Doctor said. His expression was a bit awkward, but seeing Rose's pale face, he refrained from saying anything harsh.
"Where do we go now? Tell me, Doctor! Just like you always do!" Rose looked at the Cyberman head, now baked into ash, and spoke to the Doctor with determination.
"Unless we find the Cyberman leader and force him to issue a command to stop all this, the only option is to seek more help. specifically, magic that only damages the soul. Such a thing could be incredibly useful against Cybermen."
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