Thank You,
Knight Teir: "Jacob", "Ralfs Abele", "Lucas Varnas", and "Joel Vincent"
For Becoming A Member On My Pa'treon. The Emperor Protect.
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At this moment inside Essen Heavy Industries Group, Astor sat drenched in sweat, his eyes locked on the live broadcast screen. When Tony bounced off the leg-fixing structure of the monstrous machine, Astor hadn't even processed it, yet the sight alone was enough to crush him. Tony Stark, with nothing but his Warframe, was actually able to stand toe-to-toe with a massive mechanical-biological battleship.
The Federation's entire armor module project had been entrusted to Essen Heavy Industries. But now, with the sudden update of Tony's Warframe models, iteration after iteration, the pace was faster than they could dream of catching. Astor felt utterly beaten, his confidence shattered. Just looking at those intricate structures on the screen made his skin crawl, goosebumps spreading over his body.
Behind him, a young engineer whispered nervously, "Mr. Astor, I think the technical level of the Mark 7 is far beyond us. We should start from Mark 2. At least we're familiar with that structure."
Astor's expression twisted. Until now, it had all been bluster. They had bragged endlessly, but after seeing Stark's suit with their own eyes, they knew their so-called designs were hollow. Tony's battle armor wasn't just advanced, it was complete, seamless, and terrifyingly efficient. Still, Essen had been ordered to develop a "Mark-type" suit no matter what. The Ark Reactor had been outsourced elsewhere, but their shame was unavoidable.
The only small comfort Astor clung to was this: as far as he knew, none of the other R&D departments had achieved anything either. Norland's New Elements division had even destroyed more than a dozen particle colliders in failed experiments. That fact alone soothed his humiliation, if only slightly.
"Keep going!" Astor barked, slamming the phone onto the table. "It's all up to us now!"
He glanced at his team, forcing himself to sound steady. The suggestion was correct; they only had the capacity to reproduce something on the level of Mark 2. That was their starting point. The rest would have to wait.
The live broadcast flickered, shifting away from Stark's battle to the top of a high-rise where Hawkeye was stationed.
[ A Chitauri warrior leapt onto the rooftop. Hawkeye struck swiftly, grappling with his short bow before hurling the creature over the edge. He glanced skyward, and two squadrons of dozens of Chitauri soldiers were soaring toward him. ]
[ At the moment of crisis, Hawkeye reached for an arrow only to find his quiver empty. He pressed a hidden button, releasing a concealed arrow from its slot. ]
[ Behind him, more Chitauri advanced, and the skyline erupted in blasts as high-rise windows shattered one after another. ]
[ Hawkeye vaulted from the roof, twisting his body midair. He fired his last arrow against the wall. ]
[ Click! A claw snapped into place. It was a rope-grappling hook. The line pulled taut, swinging him in through a building's glass as he smashed through the pane and rolled safely inside. ]
"Damn! That scared me to death!"
"His arrow count is way too low!"
"Someone give this man infinite arrows already!"
"Is this what the legendary AD carry looks like in real life?"
"No way. He's just a regular human, even if he's a top-tier agent."
"Good thing his reactions are so sharp."
"I swear, I thought the explosion would take his head off."
"But those arrows, what a variety. Explosives, delayed timers, grappling ropes, even flash rounds. He's carrying the weight of humanity's fight, and I don't want a single one of them to die."
"Coulson's death already gutted us. Please, let the rest survive."
Hawkeye and Black Widow were the "ordinary ones" of the Avengers, yet each time they stepped forward, it seized the audience's hearts. Their fragility made their courage shine brighter. And this time, Hawkeye pulled through.
[ Down on the streets, Hulk kicked a wave of Chitauri aside with primal fury. He raised his head and roared, only to find himself encircled by hundreds of enemy aircraft. ]
[ From above, energy beams rained down. Blast after blast struck his massive frame until the sky itself seemed filled with nothing but explosions. Hulk's roar reverberated across the city, but the relentless firepower began to bury even his fury. ]
The viewers erupted in outrage.
"Dammit! That's inhumane, so many ganging up on Hulk!"
"No matter how tough he is, nobody can withstand endless fire like that!"
"Hulk, stand up! Tear them apart!"
"Black Widow, close that portal already!"
"Thor, get in there! Back him up!"
"This is the era of Terra Earth, they'll save it, they have to!"
"I don't want any of them to die. Not one."
Quietly, on the Network forums, someone opened a prayer thread for the heroes. At first, it gained little attention, but as the battle escalated, the thread surged to the top, outpacing even major scientific discussions. Soon, it dominated the board.
Messages poured in from across the Federation, many of them deeply moving:
"Hello, heroes of Terra Earth. Even if time and space separate us, even if you are already history, I still pray for your safety. Some call your time an 'era of broken history,' but I believe it is thanks to your desperate sacrifice that our Terra Federation even exists today. If I could, I would stand and fight beside you."
The war dragged on, and the battle's climax loomed. More and more people flooded into the live broadcast. Tanner stared at the skyrocketing numbers of online viewers, more shocking to him than any battlefield scene.
The screen shifted again.
[ On the streets, Rogers fought beside Thor, slashing down a Chitauri with his shield. But a blast from an enemy rifle struck his abdomen. Rogers fell to one knee, his face pale with sweat. ]
[ Thor rushed to his side, smashing a car into the Chitauri before hauling Rogers upright. Blood soaked the Captain's uniform. ]
[ "Can you still fight another round?" Thor asked grimly. ]
[ Rogers gasped, lips tight. "Why? You getting tired?" ]
[ Thor grinned, summoning Mjolnir back to his hand. Side by side, the two charged again into the fray. ]
The chat exploded with anguish.
"Rogers is bleeding badly!"
"He's only human!"
"Why must there always be war?"
"God damn it! Where's Loki, kill him already!"
Prayers and curses mixed together in the barrage. Exhaustion was visible on every hero's face, yet none stopped, none retreated. Millions of Terra citizens pressed their palms together, whispering hope into the storm.
The expert panel fell silent. Historian Johan broke the quiet with a solemn voice: "Every one of them is worthy of respect."
Silence followed. Heroism demanded reverence. Across the Federation, citizens clenched their fists as the feed jumped again.
[ An aircraft lifted from the carrier deck. "Commander Fury has been stripped of command. Order 7-A-1-1 is active!" ]
[ The pilot confirmed: "7-A-1-1 acknowledged. Cleared for takeoff." ]
[ In the control room, Hill blanched. "Sir, an aircraft is moving!" ]
[ Fury bolted for the deck. ]
[ "Prevent that takeoff!" Hill barked. "I repeat, takeoff unauthorized!" ]
[ Fury charged outside with a bazooka, and he fired. ]
[ Boom! The shell struck just as the fighter neared takeoff, destroying it in a fireball. But before relief could settle, another jet launched. Fury drew his pistol, firing helplessly as it climbed into the sky. ]
[ He slammed the comms. "Tony! Do you copy? A nuclear warhead is en route to Manhattan!" ]
The live broadcast reached past three hundred million viewers. The screen drowned under furious comments:
"Damn bureaucrats!"
"That's a nuclear bomb, millions will die!"
"Why destroy the city you're supposed to protect?!"
"They had one job, stop the invasion, not nuke Manhattan!"
"The detonation isn't that simple, right? Right?!"
"Fury, what good is calling Tony now?!"
"Let Black Widow close the portal already!"
"Somebody stop that missile!"
Terra boiled like a pot at full fire. Entire schools abandoned lessons. Principals declared openly: "Let every child watch this. Let them see history clearly."
For many, this was their first true lesson in the power and horror of nuclear weapons. Children whispered anxiously:
"Teacher, if the bomb explodes, won't the heroes die too?"
"Why would they sacrifice them like that?"
"The bad guys are the worst. They caused this!"
Even the teachers were shaken. Some truths were too cruel to soften.
In the military command room, the director trembled with rage, voice shaking: "Damn it! Those decision-makers don't understand the battlefield at all; they're playing with millions of lives!"
Experts joined in, anger boiling over.
"It shouldn't be like this!"
"No! Not like this!"
The feed flashed again. Each flicker of the frame clawed at the audience's nerves.
[ Tony gritted his teeth. "Jarvis, divert all energy to the thrusters!" ]
[ "Ready," Jarvis replied calmly. ]
[ With a roar, Stark blasted upward, breaking free of the Chitauri surrounding him. His damaged armor strained, sparks spitting as he surged skyward. ]
[ Over the ocean, the warplane leveled off. The pilot's hand pressed the launch trigger. A missile streaked into the air, "Nuclear warhead deployed. Detonation in 2 minutes, 30 seconds." ]
Time itself seemed to stop. Two minutes, thirty seconds. Every citizen of Terra felt the phantom tick of a clock echo in their ears, death's scythe swinging closer.
Faces across the Federation turned pale. A nuclear bomb was hurtling toward the Terra Earth Era, set to annihilate a city to contain the Chitauri and the cosmic cube.
Millions watching, only one question burned in their hearts: "Is it… worth it?"