The Fallen Universe

The capitalists were discussing how to profit from the apocalypse.

Meanwhile, outside the Bleecker Street Sanctum, the battle had reached a brutal fever pitch. The air warped under all kinds of energy attacks—scorching heat, bitter cold, acid corrosion, and more—filled with the smells of char, sulfur, and blood. On the ground, shattered magical runes mingled with cooling metal wreckage.

Every so often, dark purple, unknown fluid could be seen writhing as if alive—residue left behind by slain, highly mutated dark cultists.

"Those damned human traitors!" Captain America Steve Rogers's shield was covered in fresh scratches and scorch marks. Panting heavily, he knocked back a mutated cultist of tremendous strength who was swinging a burning bone blade, then turned and shouted into his comms, "East side, Third Block needs support! The entrance to the civilian shelter has been breached!"

Captain America's voice was urgent.

"Falcon copy! I'm on my way, but there are Bat-Winged Demons interfering in the air!" Sam Wilson's voice came through amid howling wind and the shrill whine of energy beams.

Elsewhere, Captain Carter and Captain Britain stood back to back, holding off a tide of enemies. The cultists' skin was as hard as petrified stone.

Corrosive black mist spewed from their mouths.

They might have been far from gods.

But they were no longer close to human, either.

The gradual approach of the Dark Dimension was transforming and strengthening these cultists.

"This will never end at this rate!"

Brian Braddock swung the Star Scepter, dispersing a cloud of black mist, his expression grim. "Their power is growing! The denser the power of the Dark Dimension gets, the crazier these corrupted bastards become!"

He had clearly seen what was happening.

"Hold on! The sorcerers are trying to reinforce the nodes!"

Captain Carter parried a heavy blow, her arm