The hull of the Strike Cruiser Retribution opened.
Hundreds of Drop Pod roared out, trailing red flames as they crashed toward the ground.
Never underestimate the power of Drop Pod.
Because this thing is fucking hard!
Drop Pod traveling at 12,000 kilometers per hour is simply impossible to intercept.
A Drop Pod crashed through an office building opposite Avengers Tower, penetrating from the twelfth floor to the ground. The reinforced concrete shattered like a biscuit, and the shockwave overturned several Chitauri aircraft parked on the roadside.
Another Drop Pod struck a Chitauri aircraft, smashing it and its crew into a pancake.
Another missile struck a Leviathan warship that was hovering at low altitude, piercing through its spine and abdomen, causing the blue-purple energy liquid to explode into a mist.
Some of the Drop Pod landed on the streets, the enormous impact creating deep craters in the road, and the surrounding Chitauri soldiers were instantly turned into mincemeat.
The door of the Drop Pod popped open.
There was no one inside.
There was only one pre-loaded twin-barreled Storm Bolter and one automatic fire control servo.
The Bolter automatically rotated its muzzle, unleashing a barrage of fire at the surrounding Chitauri soldiers.
The side armor plate of the other Drop Pod exploded and fell off, and the twin-barreled Bolter inside began to spin, the explosives sweeping towards the nearest Chitauri aircraft with trails of flame.
Another Drop Pod crashed into the center of the Chitauri ranks. After the armor plates fell off, a Deathwind Missile Launcher was revealed. The missile, trailing a spiraling flame, slammed into the densest area of Chitauri soldiers at close range. The blast wave sent half a street of alien debris flying into the air.
Various automatic weapons were set up throughout the streets and alleys of New York.
The Wolf Spider Sentry Gun positions were set up at the intersection of Park Avenue, with twin Las-cannon pointing skyward. Whenever Chitauri soldier entered the firing range, the cannon barrels would vibrate slightly at an extremely high frequency, shooting down Chitauri aircraft in the air as if swatting a mosquito.
Outside the atmosphere, a batch of F-22 variant fighter jets were ejected from the cruiser's hangar.
In space, they don't need to consider aerodynamic shape. With their diamond-shaped noses aimed at the struggling Leviathan warship, air-to-air missiles detach from their pylons, leaving trails of flame as they slam into the wounds on the Leviathan's side, exploding from the inside.
The Avenger Bolt Cannon sprayed bullets wildly at Leviathan's abdomen.
The massive Leviathan warships, like punctured balloons, exploded one after another, crashing into the city.
The Stormtroopers jumped from the shuttle, their jetpack exhausts tracing arcs between the buildings.
They wore Power Armour and crushed the wreckage of the Chitauri aircraft as they landed.
They advanced in groups of three, providing cover for each other.
The Hellgun Laser beam swept across the street, piercing through the armor of the Chitauri soldiers like paper, their bodies tumbling off the aircraft.
The Valkyrie Transport roared down, Planetary Defence Force rushed out from inside, quickly deploying in squads.
"Stay calm, don't rush in!"
"Suppressive firepower!"
"Maintain the 3-3 formation!"
While shouting instructions, the veterans took the lead, skillfully seizing cover and setting up crossfire points. At every street corner, someone was gesturing to direct the advance, and the remaining Chitauri soldiers in the entire block were being suppressed and beaten.
On the ground, Steve Rogers stood beside the overturned taxi, his shield still in the throwing position, but there were no targets around.
The Chitauri soldiers were either killed by Laser, blown to pieces by explosives, or being chased and finished off by the Planetary Defence Force.
He noticed that the soldiers' tactical movements were not the lone-wolf actions of superheroes, but the coordinated actions of professional soldiers.
They covered each other, took turns reloading, advanced as squads, and some were even searching through corpses.
Just now, Steve Rogers was about to rush over to help when he saw a Planetary Defence Force soldier shoot down a Chitauri soldier with one shot, then skillfully crouch down, remove the weapon and energy core from the soldier's body, and stuff them into his own sack.
One of them handed the weapon to his teammate behind him, then placed his hand on the hull of the aircraft, turned to the other and shook his head—this thing is too heavy to disassemble.
"Tow the aircraft away! Dismantle all the weapons! Don't take the corpses, they're too ugly, I don't want to eat this kind of Corpse Starch."
The soldier who was speaking kicked aside the corpse of Chitauri soldier at his feet, bent down to pick up the energy gun from the other's hand, weighed it in his hand, and then put it into the spoils bag on his back with satisfaction.
"Hurry up and rush forward, there are still many aircraft to be dismantled ahead."
The teammate next to him had already dismantled the energy core of the other spacecraft, and was carrying it in his arms as he ran towards the recovery point. After running a couple of steps, he turned back and tore off the metal counterweights hanging on that spacecraft as well.
The soldiers fought and looted at the same time.
Their movements were so practiced it was heartbreaking.
This is clearly not the first time they've done something like this.
Captain America watched as the soldiers dismantled all the Chitauri equipment on the street, opened his mouth as if to say something.
Tony slowly landed next to Steve Rogers, opened his mask to reveal a face with an extremely complex expression, looking at the three cruisers overhead that blocked out half the sky.
"I told you he was a robber." Steve Rogers picked up his shield from the ground, looked at the group of soldiers busily collecting corpses, and remained silent for several seconds.
"You're right."
The battle ended quickly.
In less than half an hour, the Chitauri soldiers on the ground were cleared away.
The wormhole in the sky was also completely destroyed by the cruiser's Lance.
The streets of New York are littered with Chitauri corpses and aircraft wreckage.
The soldiers of the Planetary Defence Force were busy loading the wreckage onto trucks, humming a little tune.
The Avengers stood on the ruins, looking at each other, and realized they had been completely inactive throughout the entire ordeal.
S.H.I.E.L.D. command center of the Helicarrier.
Nick Fury stood in front of the main screen, his single eye fixed on the satellite image.
Three Imperial cruisers were anchored at the wormhole entrance, their Macro-cannon still firing intermittently.
The Destroyer hovered over Manhattan as Valkyrie Transport dropped the last vehicles to the ground.
Ground troops are systematically clearing the battlefield and recovering supplies.
The Chitauri army over New York was wiped out in just a few tens of minutes.
A row of senior S.H.I.E.L.D.. agents stood behind him, but no one spoke.
Maria Hill held Data Pad in her hand, the screen displaying the estimated firepower parameters she had just obtained; the power of a single Macro-cannon far exceeded that of any known shipborne weapon system.
No one on the entire Helicarrier could come up with a reasonable interception plan.
Fury stared at the screen, his one eye narrowing more and more.
This is no longer a question of whether or not it can be controlled. Any one of those four spaceships overhead could turn the entire Helicarrier into space debris in a single salvo.
He watched the group of soldiers on the ground dismantling the Chitauri aircraft in the video, watching them load the weapons into carts one by one, their movements as practiced as if they were doing wholesale.
He clenched his teeth and forced out a few words.
"It's him again."
"That bastard, he's robbing us again."
The smoke of battle gradually dissipated.
The streets of New York were littered with the corpses of Chitauri and the wreckage of burning aircraft.
Soldiers from the Planetary Defence Force were using plasma cutting guns to deftly dismantle usable weapons and energy cores, piling up sacks like small mountains.
A deep engine roar came from overhead.
The Stormbird heavy gunship slowly descended, its jets kicking up dust and shards of glass.
The hatch opened, Fu Haoran stepped out, his boots landing on the cratered surface.
Ronan followed behind him, Power Axe in hand, the bloodstains on his black Power Armor still wet.
Kallen was the first to rush forward, circling the crashed Leviathan warship not far away.
The giant bio-weapon, its torso pierced by a missile, still had half of its body hanging from the steel frame of the station's dome.
Its exoskeleton was embedded with biological tubing, and blue-purple energy fluid was flowing down its broken ribs, pooling in a small puddle on the gravelly ground.
--
The behemoth's head was relatively intact, with four rows of fin-like respiratory organs hanging below the twisted bridge structure. Even in death, the odor it emitted was still more pungent than that of the bottom of the Hive City.
"Your Excellency!" Kallen's prosthetic eye flashed with excitement, and the scanner in her hand beeped, "Biological tissue integrity 87%! Nerve core intact!"
"Selling it to the Archmagos of biology would fetch a very good price!"
"Tear it down, take it all with you." Fu Haoran ordered without hesitation.
Several Servitor carried plasma cutting guns forward, sparks flying from the seams of Leviathan's bio-armor on its neck.
Fu Haoran then walked to a row of flying motorcycles that had been towed back.
Unlike the organic-textured armor worn by the Chitauri soldiers, the flying motorcycle's metal shell is relatively regular, and the structure of the thruster nozzles vaguely reveals some reusable engineering logic.
Fu Haoran kicked a Chitauri flying motorcycle beside his feet. "Load all these flying motorcycles as well, and take them back for research."
At this moment, Titus approached, rubbing his hands together, and asked, "Boss, I've found a lot of good stuff here, and I'm itching to get my hands on it." Fu Haoran cleared his throat and raised his voice so that the surrounding soldiers could hear him. "We're here to maintain world peace, and we will never take a single needle or thread from the common people!"
"As for those unclaimed items, we will keep them safe for them."
"Got it!" Tychus immediately understood. If something doesn't have a name written on it, then it's unclaimed.
You say it's yours?
How can you prove it's yours?
A group of soldiers roared and ran after Tychus, the sacks in their hands swinging loudly.
Just then, a red and gold figure circled around from between the buildings, slowed down, hovered, and landed steadily in front of Fu Haoran.
"Splash!"
The surrounding soldiers immediately raised their guns and aimed, the dark muzzles pointing directly at Iron Man.
With just a gesture from Fu Haoran, Tony would be riddled with holes in an instant.
Fu Haoran waved his hand, and the gun barrels all lowered, but they still maintained a guarded posture.
Ronan took a half step forward, slightly raising the Power Axe in his hand, his eyes fixed on Tony.
Tony opened his visor, swallowing back the foul-mouthed line that was already on the tip of his tongue.
He glanced at the menacing soldiers around him.
He glanced again at Ronan's Power Axe, which could cleave even a Chitauri connected vehicle in two, and at the Chitauri energy fluid residue still clinging to the opponent's matte black Plasteel Power Armour.
There were also Servitor squatting on the head of the Leviathan, cutting bones.
It then swept over the Wolf Spider Sentry Gun used for surveillance.
Tony, being very tactful, gave a polite smile, "Mr. Fu, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Fu Haoran was very satisfied.
This kid was so stubborn the last time we met, but now he finally knows the rules.
"I don't think you'll be happy," Fu Haoran joked. "But it's okay, I won't be staying here for long."
Tony visibly relaxed. "That's good, that's good. You're here for a vacation?"
Fu Haoran asked with a smile, "Do you have a place you could recommend that can accommodate 300,000 soldiers on leave?"
Tony immediately shut up.
Unless you book all the hotels in New York, it's hopeless—wait, that doesn't seem impossible, it wouldn't cost much anyway.
"Just kidding." Fu Haoran waved his hand, not continuing to tease him. "Don't worry about my people. We're just here to buy some food and water, and exchange some techniques. We'll probably be staying with you for the next few days, I hope you'll welcome us."
Tony instinctively wanted to say no, but his gaze involuntarily fell on Ronan's Power Armour.
Although this thing looks clumsy, covered in rivets, with obvious riveting marks at the joints, and the overall structure looks like it was hand-hammered, it doesn't fit his aesthetic at all.
But Tony had to admit that, in terms of the efficiency of the joint transmission and servo motor coordination alone, this suit of armor surpassed all the Power Armour he had ever seen.
Especially after witnessing firsthand how easily the wearer of this Power Armour tore apart several Chitauri, Tony realized he wasn't such a superficial person who would judge things by their appearance.
As for living with those big, burly men—well, I'll just have to put up with it.
Tony shook his head, banishing the absurd thought from his mind.
I'm not gay.
Just then, a cold and impatient voice came from behind Fu Haoran.
What are we having for dinner tonight?
Lucifer emerged from the hatch of the Stormbird gunship.
Her long, emerald-green hair reached her waist, her pale skin shone with an almost transparent luster in the New York afternoon sunlight, and her emerald-green eyes were filled with impatience.
Ever since she learned that the fleet hadn't brought any extra food, she'd been in a "don't mess with me" mode, Planetary Defence Force soldiers within three meters of her would consciously keep their distance.
Tony's eyes lit up instantly.
Oh, I'm in love again.
He quickly straightened his hair, flashed a classic Stark smile that made countless women swoon, strode forward, and extended his hand. "Beautiful lady, please allow me to introduce myself."
"I'm Tony Stark, you can call me Tony."
"Perhaps your previous understanding of me was limited to news reports, but I must say, those photos completely failed to capture my charm."
Tony spoke quickly, with a hint of unintentional boasting. "I happen to know a few Michelin Samsung chefs in Manhattan who are currently hiding in safe houses."
Give me an hour, and I can prepare the best private dinner in all of New York.
"We don't need those grown men bothering us, it's just the two of us."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, her disdainful gaze filled with reproach. "No way, dining with monkeys will ruin my mood."
Tony even doubted his ears.
Am I hallucinating?
Yes, that must be it!
Just as Fu Haoran was about to laugh, Lucifer's disdainful gaze swept over him. "Darling, you'd better keep your promise, otherwise—"
A green portal to a different dimension appeared behind Lucifer, and half of the Scorpion Destroyer's figure emerged, stomping through the ground with a single step.
"Warning! Warning! High-threat unit detected."
In fact, Tony didn't even need JARVIS's warning; he could see how terrifying this monster was.
"Oh, darling, I know a Chinatown restaurant nearby. The food there must be pretty good," Fu Haoran reassured her skillfully.
"Really? Then let's go quickly."
"Okay, this way."
Watching Fu Haoran skillfully comfort and lead the way, Tony suddenly felt a pang of sympathy.
"Too quickly hang himself on one tree, what a pathetic man."
Tony shook his head, feeling much better.
He has never liked overly violent women; he prefers women with a fiery personality like Chili Pepper.
Miami.
Private villa by the sea.
Ivan Vanko leaned against an inflatable raft, clutching a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hand.
Several bikini-clad models were splashing and playing in the pool, while Latin dance music played from a speaker by the pool.
His new McLaren was parked in the garage, and the refrigerator was crammed with freshly air-freighted Russian pickles and frozen dumplings.
Ever since he beat Tony up at the Stark Expo, he had completely lost interest in causing Tony any more trouble.
My father isn't dead, and I have money, so why go looking for trouble?
He tilted his head back and took a swig of vodka, the liquid dripping down his gray beard and into the pool.
The 100-inch outdoor TV by the pool was playing the news, but the anchor's voice was muffled by the music.
"----The alien invasion over New York has been repelled----Large amounts of alien debris are being cleared by ground forces----Four unidentified giant spaceships are currently still anchored over New York ----"
Ivan rolled over, turning his back to the television, and continued drinking.
"----A spokesperson for this fleet, which claims to be from the Holy Terra Empire, stated that they are an interstellar Expeditionary Force returning from a campaign representing human civilization, and have no ill intentions towards Earth.----The spokesperson emphasized that Earth is the cradle of humanity and an integral part of the Empire----"
"----Let's take a look at the scene; this is their warship insignia."
Ivan turned to look at the television, and then----
"Puff!"
Ivan spat out the vodka in his mouth, his eyes widening like saucers.
Double-Headed Eagle!
Holy Terra!
The man is back!
He suddenly flipped over in the pool, splashing water all over the model next to him.
He shoved aside the inflatable buoy blocking his way, and the model screamed as she fell into the water.
Ivan rushed barefoot into the living room, grabbed his passport, wallet, and car keys from the coffee table, and dashed out the front door to the garage.
The garage door slowly rose, and as his McLaren pulled out of its parking space, two spotlights shone from both sides of the driveway, illuminating the entire front yard.
He rushed into the garage, jumped into his modified sports car, and floored the accelerator.
The sports car roared and sped out of the villa gate.
Just as he rounded the corner, Ivan slammed on the brakes.
The tires left long, black skid marks on the ground.
In the middle of the intersection, a dozen soldiers wearing black Force Feedback Power Armor stood there, their Hellgun all pointed at him.
Ivan's expression froze instantly.
He slowly raised his hands, revealing an awkward yet polite smile.
"Don't shoot."
I surrender.
He knew all too well what this situation meant; not resisting meant he wouldn't have to suffer.