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The sky over Manhattan didn't just darken; it bruised, turning a sickly shade of violet as the fabric of reality began to fray. From the swirling rift above Stark Tower, a legion of Chitauri flyers poured out like a swarm of metallic locusts.
streaked across the skyline, a crimson-and-gold blur. "Jarvis, divert all power to the chest RT," Tony Stark commanded, his voice tight. A blinding beam of unibeam energy sliced through a formation of alien crafts, sending them spiraling in flames.
"Secure the perimeter!" a voice commanded—sharp, steady, and impossible to ignore. vaulted over a crushed taxi, his vibranium shield catching the afternoon sun as it ricocheted off a Chitauri warrior's helm. He caught the shield on the fly, signaling to Black Widow and Hawkeye , who were already a blur of martial arts and high-velocity arrows, clearing the path for fleeing civilians.
He wasn't alone. A thunderous crack shook the air as a bolt of lightning arced from the heavens, grounding itself into the pavement. stood amidst the smoke, Mjolnir spinning so fast it was a silver halo. With a guttural roar, he launched the hammer, watching it shatter a dozen chariots in a single, impossible arc before returning to his hand.