"Multiversity is accelerating. The number of Parallel Worlds we can monitor has been cut in half. They died without a sound."
After completing another mission to destroy another Earth and returning to Earth-1610, Iron Man said this to Fury.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Egghead's Life-Model Decoy replied with its arms folded. Its single eye turned toward the newly appeared Earth in the sky. "Saves us from wasting the few bombs we have left."
"The multiverse has inertia, Fury. It's hard for me to explain." Iron Man let out a breath, walked over to the Black man, and looked up at the sky beyond the carrier. "That means the countdown before each collision between Earths will only get shorter and shorter. Maybe so short that we won't have time to destroy their resistance, or even blow up the other Earth."
The red-and-gold armor bore a few scratches, and the forehead of the mask was slightly dented. Sighing, Iron Man tried to bend it back into place with his hand.
"At least it hasn't happened yet. Your concerns may have some crazy scientific basis, but I haven't seen that moment actually arrive. So get ready for the next operation."
Fury shook his head and turned toward the crowd. The people around Deathstroke were lively and energetic, sampling late-night snacks and black tea.
The Ultimates, meanwhile, were in miserable shape. They were all dirty and disheveled, and they had lost personnel in the previous operation. Though he had merely been some obscure Superhero brought in to fill out the numbers, seeing him knocked down and devoured by the zombies had evidently crushed morale.
But that was not something the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to consider. He was a general, a leader, not a squad commander.
How to encourage the team, how to