Chapter 34

Two colors suddenly flowed, and the air filled with faint crackling, like ice splitting or charcoal burning.

As the chain dangled from Zhao Yu's palm, Mordo heard the soft scrape of metal, like wind brushing dead branches on a winter night.

He watched five-colored streams of light cycle through the links—crimson followed by deep blue, deep blue fading into frost white, frost white seeping into earthy brown, and a hint of fresh green blooming from the brown.

Those lights were not still. They crawled along the chain like living vines.

Mordo did not move.

He kept even his breathing shallow.

Zhao Yu seemed to say something. His voice drifted over, but it never reached Mordo's ears.

Mordo stared only at that chain.

When it coiled around the corner of the table, an old crack in the wood visibly healed; the next second, the tip tapped a glass, and spiderweb-like frost spread across its surface; in another instant, the chain lifted a book from thin air, its pages fluttering as though invisible hands were reading it.

Five kinds.

He counted them clearly.

Attack, healing, control, freezing, and... perception?

Mordo suddenly felt his nose sting, as if someone had shoved his face into a river in the depths of winter.

"Master."

Zhao Yu's voice sounded again.

Mordo raised a hand, palm outward—stop.

Don't speak.

He needed silence.

He needed that silence to wrap around him like a cocoon and smother the things that were breaking apart inside him.

The image he had built over the years—the form magic should take, the steps cultivation should follow, the balance between power and cost—had all been ground to powder by a single chain in those few minutes.

So rules could be torn apart so easily.

So someone could casually mold "impossible"

into a toy.

Mordo looked at his hands.

These hands had practiced countless spells, steady as stone when forming seals.

But now they merely rested on his knees, his fingertips cold.

He remembered the sandalwood fragrance that never faded from the sanctum, the rigorous rune diagrams in ancient texts, and his mentor's words that magic was the echo of order.

Those things that had once seemed so sacred suddenly felt like paper lanterns on a stage, ready to collapse at the slightest poke.

The sky outside darkened.

Clouds hung low, and distant thunder rolled.

But the room was quiet, so quiet that he could hear his heartbeat striking hollow echoes in his chest.

Mordo closed his eyes.

In the darkness, that chain of shifting five-colored light still swayed.

Zhao Yu's existence made Mordo feel like dust.

He stared at that figure, his fingertips still carrying the burning pain from practicing spells the night before.

What was the point? No amount of sweat could compare to someone else's innate talent.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, and a muffled murmur rolled from his throat, like a sigh, or a prompt of resignation—Let it all end soon.

Zhao Yu looked away.

The air was filled with the scent of old books mixed with sandalwood, but he could not focus on those weighty tomes.

The process of mastering magic was indeed fascinating. Every flow of energy brought a wholly new thrill.

It was just that the effort spent by the person guiding him had probably far exceeded expectations.

The flickering candlelight on the wall stretched out his profile. The shadow swayed faintly, as though it too were expressing some unspoken emotion.

In Kamar-Taj's courtyard, time seemed frozen.

The sound of water running through stone channels was steady and soft. Several dead leaves hung beneath the corridor without moving at all.

This place was cut off from the clamor of the mortal world, like a tranquil fragment accidentally left behind among humanity.

Yet beneath the same sky, New York was being torn apart.

At first came screams—not from humans, but the shrieks of twisting metal and shattering glass.

People looked up and saw a brilliant blue pillar erupting from the top of Stark Tower, a building that had once symbolized the pinnacle of human ingenuity.

The beam pierced the clouds. It was not the end, but the beginning—the sky, like a fragile sheet of cloth, was forcibly ripped open by a hideous gash, and deep blue light seeped from within.

Then came the swarm.

No, denser and faster than any swarm of bees.

Countless black specks poured from the rift like a black waterfall flowing in reverse.

A crimson-and-gold point of light surged upstream, trying to stop the pouring flood.

Blazing white beams burst from that point of light, exploding into several fleeting sparks amid the black tide.

But the resistance was too weak. The black tide merely slowed for an instant before spreading across the entire city with even greater fury.

They had arrived.

With inhuman, piercing shrieks, and the teeth-grating hum of charging weapons.

When the first pale beam fell, the asphalt street melted and curled like hot wax.

Then came the second, the third... ** the roaring was no longer a single deafening blast, but a continuous background noise that crushed the eardrums.

Mixed within it were the muffled crashes of collapsing concrete, the ** of twisting metal frames, and... the brief cries and abruptly cut-off screams of humans.

A smell of metallic blood mixed with something sharp like ozone spread rapidly through the air.

Chitauri soldiers walked through the ruins, their steps heavy and rhythmic. Their armor clattered with "clack-clack"

sounds, occasionally accompanied by several meaningless snickers that sounded electronically synthesized.

Their weapons lit up again. Every flash meant a life going out somewhere.

Running, falling, searching for cover... all the struggles of ordinary people seemed clumsy and futile before those precise, merciless beams.

The streets were no longer streets. They had become a maze filled with wreckage and scorch marks, where echoes of despair lingered.

New York, that forest of steel, was being ruthlessly harvested by unfamiliar hunters.

Flames tore through the sky that had once belonged to the city.

That crimson-and-gold figure emerged from behind a bursting ball of light, both hands continuously pouring out blazing white streams of energy that pierced one circling alien craft after another.

Occasionally, he used agile turns to force his pursuers into the facades of the towering buildings on either side.

Inside the armor, Tony Stark's breathing sounded as heavy as if he were trapped inside an iron can.

"Give me the numbers, JARVIS."

His voice squeezed out through clenched teeth.

"More than thirty minutes have elapsed since the first wave of the invasion."

The calm electronic voice replied, "Estimated economic losses are measured in the hundreds of billions.

Civilian casualties... are approaching two hundred and fifty thousand.

And, sir, that number is updating every second.

If the invasion is not contained, the entire city will show no signs of life."

The report coming through the communicator made his knuckles turn white.

More than eight million—that had been the population living here not long ago.

But in those terrifyingly brief minutes just now, that number had mercilessly shrunk by more than two hundred thousand, and there was no sign that the downward curve was slowing.

He could almost hear the city wailing.

"Stark, watch your right."

A familiar female voice cut into the channel, interrupting the darkness spreading through his mind.

"Finally remembered me?"

He tried to make his tone sound lighter, though he could not force the corner of his mouth upward at all. "I thought you all went off to enjoy afternoon tea."

"Parker Street.

I'll lead a group there. Be ready."

The other side was concise.

The moment he heard his companion's voice, the muscles in his tense back seemed to loosen by the slightest fraction.

Facing this sky-blocking metallic tide of tens of thousands of alien invaders alone, the crushing sense of isolation finally cracked open by a sliver.

The rift in the sky was still pouring out invaders like a tide.

Tony Stark knew that even if he were facing tens of thousands of livestock, clearing them all with this suit of armor alone would take a long time.

Much less the alien soldiers now pouring in with energy weapons.

He needed his teammates.

He drew a string of Chitauri soldiers after him and turned toward Parker Street.

A thunderous explosion suddenly erupted.

That small squad of pursuers instantly became scattered wreckage.

But when he looked up, shadows were still writhing in the depths of the rift, and more black specks were pouring out in droves.

Tony changed direction and rushed toward those new targets.

In the distance, Hawkeye's fighter jet was trying to support Thor as he battled Loki atop the tower.

Another piercing explosion rang out.

The deep blue beam fired from the tip of Loki's Scepter precisely punched through the fighter's engine.

Hawkeye could only barely control the out-of-control aircraft, making a crooked emergency landing on the devastated street below.

The shield-bearing warrior leaped from the cabin and joined Hawkeye and Black Widow. Their target was still that towering building.

At that moment, the rift in the sky suddenly darkened.

The outline of an enormous creature slowly squeezed out. It resembled a giant whale from the deep sea, nearly a hundred meters long, its metal shell gleaming coldly beneath the sunlight.

The massive ship swept low over the city blocks,

"Tony, do you see that thing?"

The captain's voice sounded over the comm channel, tense and grave.

"I see it. Quite the visual impact. I'm still adjusting."

Tony's voice was mixed with the rush of wind from high-speed flight. "Is Banner in position? Notify me the moment he arrives."

The crimson-and-gold armor suddenly accelerated, its exhaust flames stretching out as it tightly pursued the massive ship ahead. "JARVIS, scan its structure and find its weak point."

Tony ordered, his gaze fixed on the enormous shadow constantly disgorging soldiers ahead.

Meanwhile, on the streets below, the captain, Hawkeye, and Black Widow were doing everything they could to guide panicked civilians toward relatively safe corners while clearing out scattered enemies that had landed nearby.

Gunfire, ** explosions, and shouts mixed together.

At the street corner, a slightly ridiculous little electric scooter wobbled over. Riding it was the tardy Dr. Banner.

"Tony,"

Black Widow glanced at the figure and spoke softly into the communicator, "he's here."

When the captain's voice sounded, the air still carried the charred smell from the previous battle.

"Get him equipped. I'll bring the 'surprise' over right away."

No one understood what that meant.

Until that crimson-and-gold trail appeared on the horizon—Tony Stark was rapidly approaching, and behind him, a steel behemoth was tearing through the clouds.

Its outline brought to mind a whale from the deep sea, but the shriek it made as it crashed through a building belonged to machinery.

The entire building broke apart down the middle. Chunks of concrete fell like rain, while that "whale"

continued charging forward.

Tony had led it here.

"I wouldn't call that a surprise."

Black Widow's voice was soft, as if she were speaking to herself.

Banner's gaze swept across the group, and he hesitantly took half a step forward.

"Banner, now would be a good time to get angry."

The captain's voice came again.

The green-skinned scientist turned his head, pulling his lips into an unnatural curve.

"That's my secret, Captain."

He said, "I'm never calm."

His body began to change.

The crisp sounds of bones stretching were drowned out by the tearing of fabric. The muscles beneath his skin swelled as though being inflated.

In less than three seconds, that gentle figure vanished, replaced by a green giant nearly three meters tall.

The road beneath his feet split into spiderweb cracks.

The instant his fist swung, the air compressed with an explosive boom.

The speeding steel behemoth abruptly stopped in midair, as though it had struck an invisible wall.

Its enormous momentum made its tail rear upward, bending its entire body into a distorted arc.

High above, Tony raised his arm.

A slender beam shot from the armor's forearm and precisely cut into the behemoth's middle.

** There was no fire, only the piercing shriek of metal being torn apart.

The two halves of the wreckage crashed onto opposite sides of the street, avoiding the crowd gathered below.

The crisis was temporarily resolved, but no one smiled.

Because the shadows atop the surrounding buildings were already filled with alien soldiers holding energy weapons.

Their eyes beneath their helmets glinted coldly, their gun barrels all aimed at the street.

And the rift in the sky was still expanding.

More shadows poured from the depths of the fissure like a black waterfall flowing in reverse.

The second and third steel behemoths slowly poked their heads out, their swimming movements reminiscent of a school of deep-sea fish.

Even these people, who had been through countless battlefields, felt their breathing grow heavy.

Black Widow's gaze was seized by the sky.

Everyone looked at her, then turned to the captain.