After the initial burst of laughter on the school bus faded, the children gradually settled down. Sitting in small groups, they chatted about whatever caught their interest.
"Clara, my dad's turning thirty-six in a few days," Jeresia whispered excitedly in Clara's ear. "I'm thinking of giving him a birthday present I make myself."
"That's a great idea," Clara smiled. "What are you planning to make for Uncle Celt?"
"How about thirty-six paper cranes? I can write blessings inside each one!"
"That'll work," Clara nodded. "If you put them in a pretty glass bottle and add some gold-colored sand, it'll turn into a really nice decoration."
"That's exactly what I was thinking!" Jeresia hesitated, then grew awkward. "But… you know my craft class always gets a failing grade… and you're the best in the class…"
Clara immediately caught on.
"Hey! A birthday gift for your dad should be made by you to mean something. Don't even think about making me do it."
Jeresia's expression gave her away completely.
"Please—Clara—help me!" Jeresia clung to Clara's arm like a koala. "I'll treat you to cake! Or ice cream! Or fried chicken! Burgers—"
"Alright, alright!" Clara surrendered helplessly. "I'll help you fold them, but you have to write the messages yourself."
The real reason she gave in was simple— Jeresia's clingy pleading was far too effective.
"I knew you were the best, Clara!" Jeresia cheered, immediately pulling out a box of pastel Hello Kitty square papers and a decorative glass bottle from her bag. She'd clearly come prepared.
Jeresia wrote messages like Happy Birthday, Dad and Stay healthy. After glancing at a few, Clara stopped reading. Her hands moved like fluttering butterflies—fold, crease, turn—one paper crane after another took shape in seconds, leaving Jeresia staring in open-mouthed admiration.
"Look! It's Iron Man!"
A boy suddenly shouted. In an instant, the kids rushed to one side of the bus, crowding against the windows to catch a glimpse of the superhero.
Clara, seated near the window, barely had time to react before she was squeezed flat against the glass, almost losing her breath.
Through the slightly fogged window, she saw Stark Tower—a little ugly, a little imposing, but undeniably magnificent. Hovering near the top was a red, armored figure whose silhouette was unmistakable.
Iron Man.
A thunderous boom echoed in the distance. Iron Man seemed to be blasted backward by some kind of impact before plunging into Stark Tower. Moments later, a towering blue beam of light shot up from the roof, tearing open the sky itself.
A deep sense of dread tightened in Clara's chest.
...
Five minutes earlier.
Tony's armor was faster than Steve's jet, allowing him to reach Stark Tower first.
Dr. Selvig had already completed the preparations to activate the Tesseract. Even though JARVIS had shut down the Arc Reactor, the Tesseract itself continued to operate—it was a power source unto itself.
As it ran, a pure-energy shield formed around it. Tony's repulsors couldn't even scratch it.
Standing on the balcony, Loki smiled. Watching Tony struggle helplessly against the Tesseract put him in an excellent mood.
Realizing brute force wouldn't work, Tony retreated into the tower. He needed to switch to a new suit—and that required a bit of conversation, right under the enemy's nose.
"You've come to beg for mercy," Loki sneered. "To ask me for clemency."
"No," Tony replied calmly. "I'm here to threaten you."
"Then you should be wearing your armor."
"Won't help. You're holding a glowing stick of destiny. Want a drink?" Tony grabbed a glass of red wine from the bar, casually offering it to Loki.
Tony's composure unsettled Loki. Cornered like this—did they really still have a trump card?
"We call ourselves the Avengers," Tony went on. "Let's count, shall we? Your handsome brother. A living legend who doesn't die. A big guy who kills people when he gets angry. Two elite assassins. And you? Tough luck—you pissed all of them off."
While Loki was momentarily distracted, Tony slipped on the bracelet resting on the counter—his newest suit controller.
"I have an army," Loki said coldly.
"We have the Hulk. Maybe your army can conquer Earth—but we'll hunt you down. As long as we live, you'll never sit on a throne in peace."
Tony's words struck home. Even with the Chitauri army, it wasn't his army. If the Avengers united against him, Loki's reign would never know peace.
"Then I'll make you turn on each other," Loki decided. "You'll be too busy fighting yourselves to stop me."
He raised the scepter and stabbed it into Tony's chest.
Nothing happened.
Loki frowned and tried again.
Still nothing.
"I never miss…" Loki muttered, bewildered.
"Hey, everyone has off days," Tony quipped. "Don't beat yourself up—"
Enraged, Loki grabbed Tony by the throat and hurled him off the tower.
If he couldn't control him—he'd kill him.
At the last second, JARVIS deployed the emergency suit. The auto-assembling armor wrapped around Tony mid-fall, saving him from becoming a smear on the pavement.
Iron Man shot back up, cannons blazing, blasting Loki with a brutal repulsor blast.
"And you pissed off one more guy," Tony said coldly.
"Agent Coulson."
…..
The blue beam roared skyward.
A massive space portal tore open.
From the black void beyond, the Chitauri army poured forth.
The disaster came without warning. Alien firepower sent cars flying through the streets as panic-stricken crowds fled in all directions, desperately searching for shelter.
Drivers abandoned their vehicles on overpasses. Clara's school bus was trapped in the gridlock, unable to move.
Though terrified, Ms. Daisy and the driver stayed composed. They opened the doors and ushered the children out, guiding them to follow the crowd away from Stark Tower.
"Clara, I'm scared!" Jeresia clutched Clara's hand, tears welling in her eyes.
"It'll be okay," Clara said, forcing herself to stay calm. "Just stay with the crowd."
Once off the bus, the pressure truly hit. The streets were chaos—people screaming, shoving, scattering. The children were separated, swept along by the tide of fleeing bodies.
The Chitauri showed no mercy.
Blue cannons flashed endlessly as alien fire rained down on New York City.
Clara felt herself lifted violently by an explosion, thrown high into the air—
then slammed down hard.
The world went black.
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