The blue glow of the Higher-Dimensional Laser collided thunderously with the scarlet chaos particles in midair.
There was no eardrum-shattering explosion as expected, only the high-frequency shriek of two extreme energies annihilating each other. The air was instantly sucked dry, and the intense heat warped the surrounding light into strange ripples.
Taking advantage of the moment when the Main Cannon's beam was blocked, Gwen Stacy smashed headfirst through the half-melted floor-to-ceiling window. Glass fragments slashed her white mask, and the intense heat seared broad, blackened patches into her suit. Ignoring the searing, tearing pain across her body, she dropped to one knee and rolled to absorb the impact. Her bloodshot eyes pierced the raging energy turbulence and locked onto Lynn on the sofa.
Lynn sat upright on the leather sofa, his breathing unchanged. He looked at the night sky overhead, now completely swallowed by scarlet, then glanced at Ghost-Spider, who was staring at him like a beast guarding its food, and secretly clenched his back teeth.
Rather than being caught between these two crazy women and risking being torn apart at any moment, I'd really like to go back to Konohagakure for a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen, or lie down at the training grounds and space out under the setting sun. Lynn's fingertips gently brushed the lingering warmth of Wanda's magic as he inwardly ranted.
But for all his complaints, his brain was working beyond capacity. Not only had Pierce's Main Cannon shot failed to eliminate him, it had instead become the perfect "vessel"-a vessel that fully ignited Wanda's urge to destroy. In this intelligence game between agents, Hydra had already lost everything.
Gwen Stacy flicked her wrist, and a strand of webbing shot through the air toward Lynn's shoulder.
It was an extremely subtle feint. Her real target was the blind spot beside Lynn; she was trying to use the specially made webbing's secondary recoil to drag him forcibly out of this dangerous area.
But Lynn did not even dodge. An exceedingly thin scarlet barrier automatically appeared over his body, instantly vaporizing the webbing into a wisp of white smoke.
"Don't waste your energy, Gwen," Lynn said, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "If you rush over now, she'll kill you."
The view shifted hundreds of kilometers away.
In Washington, D.C., the Director's Office in the Triskelion was filled with the strong, mingled smells of gun smoke and premium cigars.
Alexander Pierce stood before an enormous floor-to-ceiling window. He held a glass of bourbon whiskey, the ice clinking crisply against its sides. His gaze passed over the Potomac River and fixed on the coordinate readings for the outskirts of New York on the tactical screen.
"The energy peak has exceeded the critical threshold," Rumlow reported through gritted teeth, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "Sir, that variable has been completely wiped off the map by the Main Cannon."
Pierce tipped his head back and drained the liquor in his glass, his tense facial muscles finally relaxing. Lynn, that "rogue ninja" beyond Hydra's control, possessed far too much top-secret intelligence and had even turned that Skyfather-level witch into his own exclusive weapon. An uncontrollable pawn like that had to die.
Bang!
The heavy blast-resistant doors were kicked open with tremendous force. The warped metal panels slammed onto the expensive Persian carpet, stirring up a cloud of dust.
Steve Rogers strode inside, blood from Hydra agents still dripping from the edge of his Vibranium Shield. Sam Wilson followed closely behind, his Mechanical Wings folded against his back, his gun aimed straight between Pierce's eyes. Natasha, who had disguised herself as a member of the World Security Council, tore the Silicone Mask off her face and shook out her short red hair.
"Pierce, the game's over." Steve's voice barely contained his extreme anger, his chest heaving. "Your so-called Project Insight means turning your guns on twenty million innocent people?"
Pierce turned and set his empty glass on the desk with deliberate calm. Looking at the exhausted Avengers before him, he curled his lips into a mocking smile.
"Steve, you've always been too naive about this world. Bloodshed is a necessary price for establishing absolute order."
"You're a complete lunatic," Natasha said coldly, her index finger already tightening on the trigger.
"No, I'm a visionary." Pierce braced both hands on the desk and leaned forward, a sickly fanaticism in his eyes. "You have no idea what you're facing. That low-level agent named Lynn-he's the real monster! He treats that reality-altering witch as his own 'jade,' playing with everyone's bonds and destinies without restraint!"
Steve's brow furrowed, and his fingers abruptly tightened around his shield. "Lynn? He's just a victim fighting back against you to protect the woman he loves. You won't even spare him?"
"A victim?" Pierce laughed aloud as though he had heard an enormous joke. "Steve, his pathetic disguise has you completely fooled! Just moments ago, I ordered Helicarrier One's Main Cannon to lock precisely onto his safe house."
Pierce straightened and adjusted the tie of his expensive suit, his tone filled with the absolute arrogance of someone who controlled everything. "Under an orbital strike from thirty thousand feet, there won't even be ashes left. I've personally eliminated the greatest variable. Sacred order is about to descend."
Steve's pupils abruptly contracted, and the muscles in his arms bulged with extreme fury. He had never imagined Pierce would be mad enough to bombard a civilian area with the Main Cannon.
"You actually..." Falcon gritted his teeth and was about to pull the trigger.
At that very moment.
Beep-beep-beep!
Without warning, a piercing, highest-level red alert rang wildly throughout the office. The enormous tactical screen on the wall was instantly covered in blinding scarlet.
The smile on Pierce's lips abruptly froze. He whipped his head around and stared at the screen.
That was not footage confirming the Main Cannon had hit its target.
On the screen, the various sensor readings for Helicarrier One were skyrocketing at a speed that defied the laws of physics. Armor integrity instantly plummeted from 100% to 40% and continued dropping precipitously.
"What's happening?!" Pierce seized Rumlow by the collar, his voice distorted by sheer terror.
"Sir... the energy reading at the New York coordinates hasn't disappeared..." Rumlow hammered frantically at the keyboard, cold sweat soaking his combat uniform, his voice trembling too badly to form coherent sentences. "That energy... it swallowed the Main Cannon's beam in reverse! It's climbing... up the beam!"
Steve and Natasha exchanged a glance, each seeing profound shock in the other's eyes.
The Holographic Projection flickered several times before forcibly switching to the external surveillance view beneath the Helicarrier.
In the image, the blue pillar of light that should have destroyed everything was now tightly entwined with countless scarlet energy tendrils. Like living abyssal pythons, those tendrils surged upward against gravity and latched directly onto the Helicarrier's thick underside armor.
Riiip-
The carrier's hull, capable of withstanding a tactical nuclear strike, was torn apart as easily as fragile wet tissue before those scarlet particles.
The ultimate weapon Pierce took such pride in was being dismembered in midair by a pair of invisible hands of a deity.
"No... that's impossible..." Pierce's legs gave out, and he collapsed into his leather swivel chair. The trump card he was so proud of was nothing but a joke before that absolute destructive power.
He finally understood that he had provoked a forbidden existence that could not be measured by ordinary standards.
The scarlet glow on the screen grew ever brighter, its dazzling red light illuminating the shocked faces of everyone in the office.
Pierce shuddered violently and, like a drowning man grasping at his last straw, lunged frantically for the console on the desk. He was going to activate the backup firing sequence for the remaining two Helicarriers. He was going to take all of Washington, D.C. down with him.
But just as his finger was about to touch the Red Self-Destruct Button.
The cold barrel of a pistol emerged without warning from the shadows beneath the desk and pressed firmly against the underside of his jaw.
"Councilman Pierce, I imagine you're regretting not buying yourself a hefty accident insurance policy in advance."
The low voice of a one-eyed man, tinged with amusement, sounded softly beside Pierce's ear.
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