Desperate Battle

An unexpected delight.

Dormammu's flaming face occupied half the sky, yet his gaze—those two eyes blazing like supernovas—pierced through the smoke, the ruins, and layer upon layer of despair.

It fell on the green figure on the ground.

Hulk.

It was no casual sweep. Dormammu's will, like invisible abyssal tendrils, touched something on Hulk—something unusual.

"Hmm?"

That low murmur, as if it had come from the depths of the universe, froze the air across the entire New York battlefield for an instant.

The fiery patterns on Dormammu's face stopped pulsing. His stare, like tangible shackles, coiled inch by inch around Hulk's enormous green body.

Hulk was struggling to stand. His hands braced against the shattered concrete slab, knuckles sinking between rebar and broken stone. Rage still burned, but the stare of that giant face made him like an insect pinned in amber—every cell screaming in defiance, yet his body refused to obey.

"Hulk!" Steve Rogers charged forward, shield raised.

He did not even make it three meters.

An invisible force field stretched across his path like a wall. It was not an attack, only a cold, emotionless "rejection." Steve slammed into it, staggered back three steps, then charged again and struck it again. The instant his shield touched the force field, a piercing shriek of friction erupted, like fingernails scraping glass, like metal gnawing metal.

"Cap!" Sam dove down from the air, Redwing's thrusters at full power.

He was blocked too. As if he had hit an invisible cement wall, his whole body flattened against the surface of the force field, and a muffled groan came from beneath his mask.

"Don't waste your strength."

Natasha's voice came through the comms. She did not charge. She simply stood where she was, gripping the tactical baton that had already run out of