At 9:14 that night, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier was stationed above Phoenix, carrying out point-to-point sniper strikes against the ever-increasing number of Chitauri single-soldier airships nearby.
This Helicarrier embodied what could be called one of the top five technological powers on Marvel Earth.
Since it had arrived, more than eight thousand Chitauri warriors had died under its attacks. Its achievements were utterly brilliant... my ass!
Director Hill stood before the command console with her arms folded, not the slightest trace of joy on her face as countless thoughts raced through her mind.
Over the past hour, more than three thousand nuclear weapons had been launched across the world.
Yet humanity's ultimate weapon, the one Earth had always taken pride in, had been effortlessly neutralized by those aliens.
That result also proved certain philosophical arguments through cold, hard fact.
What determined the height of a civilization was never its destructive power, but its ability to protect itself!
In that regard, the aliens had won with ease.
Watching the Chitauri army continuously spread outward from the central United States, watching those alien creatures massacre every civilian they encountered...
Hill's heart was breaking.
But with every mobile force she had already sent out to fight and rescue people, what else could she do?
Fight personally?
If she were merely a superhero, then of course she would have gone herself, just like Natasha was doing at this very moment.
Also a woman, Natasha was wearing Iron Man Armor and flying through Phoenix, slaughtering enemies like mad!
But against an endless enemy force numbering in the hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions...
Hill knew full well that what she lacked had never been just one person, but hundreds of thousands, even millions, of warriors capable of fighting!
Of course, those warriors would need equipment at least on