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December 2009,

They were all gathered aboard Justin's space station. Massive screens flickered between different subjects behind the raised dais where Yelena and Phantazia stood, both women exuding a calm confidence, their sharp gazes focused on the group assembled before them.

The H.A.M.M.E.R. team, amongst them, assembled in full force, stood at attention,

There was an edge to this gathering - a heaviness in the air that spoke of the gravity of their mission. Added to the mix were Hela, lounging casually near the back of the group, her dark presence palpable even when she was still, and Emma Frost, who stood off to the side, regal as ever, her frosty demeanor betraying nothing.

Justin stood by the back wall, leaning against it with his arms folded. His usual air of supreme confidence was still there, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had been quiet for most of the briefing, though his mind churned with an endless flood of prayers. They whispered to him from the corners of his consciousness, pulling at his attention like tiny hooks - desperate pleas from people around the world begging for his intervention. The escalating crisis across the globe weighed on him, even as he worked to tune it out.

Although he'd been prepared to rip off towards the moon right away, due to Forge having finished his preparations for his secret weapon. They'd neglected some basics, and had to cool their heels as the basic necessities to survive in space were taken care of. It had been embarrassing for all parties to have forgotten something so simple.

Actual armor for those going.

Justin closed his eyes, shaking off that ridiculous mistake, his thoughts continuing to turn to the worsening situation across the globe.

For all that he'd felt the Mandarin could not match him, he was turning out to be one annoying enemy…

The situation had gone from bad to worse over the last week. China's aggressive moves, North Korea's audacity, and the ever-compounding chaos had reached a new level of madness when Japan, in a stunning turn of events, launched a military assault on South Korea. No one had seen that coming.

Well, except for Nail who had immediately picked up on the movement of personnel and the chatter on 'secure channels'. Justin hadn't bothered informing anyone however at that point, it wouldn't stop anything. It was regrettable, but it would still all work in his favor in the end. Everyone else had seen a Japanese 'naval drill' that to their surprise went hot.

The coordinated effort between the North Koreans and the Chinese forces, now reinforced by Japan's betrayal, had completely blindsided the Americans and their South Korean allies and pincered them between the trifecta of Mandarin puppets. If he hadn't forced the world's leaders to lock away their nuclear arsenals, the situation would likely have escalated into a full-scale nuclear conflict by now. He could feel the weight of those decisions pressing on him as world leaders, military officials, and everyday citizens sent their pleas his way.

For a moment, Justin wondered if delaying the Moon operation even further would have been the better call. The instinct to step in and stop the madness, to put out the immediate fires burning across the world, had gnawed at him earlier that morning despite his own hand in it. But no - he reminded himself of the stakes. The Sentinel program was far too dangerous to ignore. If left unchecked, it had the potential to end all life on Earth. He couldn't afford to let his focus waver now, no matter how loud the cries for help became.

He had to tell himself he was helping eventually, he would put a stop to it. When it most benefited him to do so.

Yelena's voice snapped him back to the present, her cool, commanding tone cutting through the haze of his thoughts. "We will be going in hot," She said, eyes scanning the team in front of her. "There's no way to tell how many enemies there are, how far along the program is at this juncture, or what fighting capabilities the Skrulls themselves have."

Beside her, Phantazia paced across the dais, her hands clasped behind her back, radiating an air of analytical calm as she took over. "Now I will stress," Phantazia began, her sharp voice carrying across the room, "That although we have intel on the largest base, the actual production base - enough to portal there - we do not have sufficient information to ensure we go in quietly. This will not be a stealth mission. We will likely meet resistance as soon as we breach the base."

Behind them, the holographic display lit up with Nail's projections, showcasing a theorized map of the base they were about to assault made in part with Sinister's knowledge and partly through scans. The base itself was massive - an intricate web of subterranean chambers built into the Moon's surface. The layout was dominated by long corridors, production floors, research labs, and gigantic storage facilities for completed 'product'. Nail's estimates for the number of likely active Sentinels were displayed on the screen in cold, hard numbers, though there was still a great deal of uncertainty. The numbers were unsettling, even to the battle-hardened operatives in the room.

Storm eyed the hologram thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she studied one of the lower sections. "That looks like holding cells," She said, jabbing a finger at the glowing red area in the diagram. "Do they have captives?"

Phantazia shook her head, her expression hard. "We don't know for sure. The interrogation of Sinister revealed that he wasn't up to date on the project. Captives may have been held in the past, but we cannot confirm if they're still alive or if those cells are even in use."

Bucky, standing beside Storm, had his arms crossed, his mechanical arm twitching slightly as he tapped a finger against it in thought. "What's our SOP on hostages?" He asked, his voice tight, his eyes flicking toward Yelena.

Yelena met his gaze without flinching, her face impassive. "If they're still alive after we've secured the facility, great," She said, her tone matter-of-fact. "But the priority is the eradication of the Sentinel program. If the Skrulls attempt to take hostages, if they assume familiar faces, we cannot hesitate. If necessary, we will blow the entire base, even with potential survivors inside." She sounded entirely unconcerned about the fact.

Storm and Bucky both grimaced at the harsh reality of her words. They exchanged a look - both of them uncomfortable with the idea of leaving potential captives behind - but the gravity of the situation settled over them. They understood the stakes. The Sentinel program could not be allowed to continue, not at the cost of all humanity.

Across the room, Hela scoffed, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned lazily against the wall. Her face twisted into a sneer as she eyed Bucky and Storm with disdain, her lips curling at their discomfort. "Such noble concerns," She drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mortals worrying about their precious 'collateral damage' in a war. How quaint."

Bucky turned to face her, his expression hardening. "Got a problem?"

Before Hela could respond, Justin's voice cut through the room like a blade. "Hela." He said her name with a cold finality that silenced any further commentary from the goddess. All eyes turned toward him as he remained by the back wall, his gaze steady, making it clear that he had no time for her games.

Hela made a show of considering whether or not to listen, her fingers tapping her chin theatrically before she rolled her eyes and scoffed, "No problem here, mortal," She said sweetly, her voice dripping with false sincerity.

Bucky's gaze remained locked on her for a moment longer, his jaw clenched as if deciding whether or not to push the issue, but Storm's hand on his shoulder pulled him back. They both turned their attention back to the briefing, though the tension in the room remained thick.

Phantazia cleared her throat, drawing attention back to the holographic display. "I know some of us are concerned about collateral damage, and that is… Commendable," She said, her voice flat, as though she didn't entirely agree with that sentiment. "But we cannot afford hesitation. The Sentinel program poses a potential world-ending threat. If they spread across the globe, capable of building more of themselves, the casualties will be beyond anything we've seen before. We must eliminate the program, even at the cost of a few lives."

Yelena nodded, picking up where Phantazia left off. "Each group will be led by someone with experience in war. There can be no hesitation in the moment." She gestured to Bucky. "Cap, you'll lead Team One." She pointed to Brock Rumlow. "Brock, you'll lead Team Two." Then to Frank Castle. "Frank, you're leading Team Three."

Frank Castle stood silently near the back of the group, his eyes cold and calculating as he gave Yelena a brief nod of acknowledgment. He had no objections. His task was simple - destroy the enemy, no matter the cost.

With what he owed Hammer Industries. He'd kill who he was told to kill. And especially with this threat. He shifted slightly, watching the rest of them, especially Storm. He would not allow his family to be at threat from anyone hesitating.

Yelena's gaze flicked to Justin. "Sir will be backed up by myself and Domino. Hela…" She trailed off for a moment, glancing at the goddess with a look of distaste. "Hela will be operating independently."

Hela's eyes gleamed with a wicked smile. "I'll handle the whole facility by myself," She said arrogantly, her voice dripping with confidence. "I'll leave you some scraps, perhaps." She cast a smug glance at Yelena, clearly enjoying the reaction her words provoked amongst the others.

Yelena, to her credit, didn't rise to the bait. She simply ignored the goddess and turned back to the task at hand. "Nail has identified key locations based on Sinister's intel and the best estimations we could make. Each team will be inserted into critical areas to maximize our impact on taking down command staff and engineers, as well as the reactor." She stressed again, "Remember some of this is guesswork, you might have to trek slightly to get to your targets if we are wrong."

Phantazia gestured to the hologram, which highlighted several bright red areas. "Team One, you'll be hitting the living quarters of the Skrulls. We suspect this is where their command staff may be located as well based on Sinister's knowledge of the layout that was proposed before it was built." She pointed to another red spot. "Team Two, your objective is the reactor. Prevent them from utilizing it, and if necessary… Blow it."

Everyone's expressions tightened at that, but no one voiced an objection.

"Team Three," Phantazia continued, "You'll be taking the production facility offices. We believe this is where they coordinate their mass production of Sentinels, and should hold the senior engineering staff, stop them before they can do anything unwise."

Yelena stepped forward again, her tone firm. "Sir and our team will portal directly into the production floor and holding facility. Hela will be sent to the opposite side of the same area in case they have operational units already in service down there. Sir and Hela are both out heaviest hitters right now, and should be able to handle any operational units while the rest of you shut down the Skrulls.

"Any questions?"

Half the team raised their hands, or in Electro's case. Both hands.

＊＊＊

Over an hour later,

The hallway leading to the hangar felt longer than usual as Justin led the group, his steps quiet and deliberate. The team, fully briefed, followed behind him. Despite the hum of idle chatter and the occasional clink of armor, there was an unspoken tension in the air, the weight of the mission pressing down on them all.

They had prepared as much as they could vis-a-vis information, but no one knew exactly what awaited them on the Moon. The unknown gnawed at the back of Justin's mind, but he kept his face impassive, projecting the confidence his team expected of him.

Forge, however, had no such reservations about lightening the mood. Walking backward to face the group, he flashed a crooked grin. "Alright, listen up, folks. This ain't Kansas anymore. You're fighting in space, and for those of you who might've flunked science class - " His eyes darted toward Electro, and then Brock, " - I'll break it down real simple for ya."

Electro, oblivious to the jab, glanced around the hallway, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. Brock, on the other hand, scowled. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that, Forge?" His voice carried just enough irritation to make the others smirk.

Forge barely contained his laughter, continuing, "As I was saying - space! And we, or rather you all, since I'm smart enough to stay behind, will be fighting robots. The easiest way for them to win would be to blow a hole somewhere and let you guys suffocate. Simple, right?"

Hela, strolling lazily at the back of the group, buffed her nails as if the conversation bored her. "I can survive in space," She said dismissively, her tone laced with superiority. "You mortals should just… Evolve." She added, mockingly.

Forge raised an eyebrow, glancing her way. "Already at it, boss lady," He said with dryness, his tone not missing a beat.

Yelena shot him a look, immediately stepping into his space. "Why is she boss lady?" She asked with a low growl, one hand lightning fast as she grabbed Forge's shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly, managing without missing a step.

Forge started sweating, his face full of nervous amusement. "Uh… Well… Because she's, uh, banging the boss? Right?" He squeaked, trying to laugh it off, but clearly uncomfortable under Yelena's fierce glare, and the grip of her hand.

Phantazia, walking nearby, snorted. "Please. If that were true, half the company would have that title. Present company included."

Yelena's grip tightened, making Forge wince. "She. Is. Not. Banging. Justin," She enunciated clearly, each word carrying a distinct threat. Forge squirmed, trying to pull free.

"Okay, okay! She's not! Jeez, you're gonna break something!" Forge pleaded, his usual attitude faltering.

Hela, who had been observing the exchange with a bemused smirk, interjected, "Please. If he ever got a taste of me, he'd be nothing but a thrall for eternity. I am indescribable." Her voice was dripping with pride, and the arrogant gleam in her eyes only deepened the tension between her and the rest of the group.

Storm especially was eying Hela warily.

Domino, who had been listening in, leaned toward Phantazia, muttering, "At least their egos match." Phantazia stifled a laugh, elbowing her back, trying to regain her serious facade.

Even as the banter filled the hallway, Justin remained silent, his steps steady, his eyes distant. He could feel something unsettling gnawing at him, a deep, instinctual warning vibrating within his bones. His divinity had granted him heightened senses, almost a sixth sense that allowed him to feel the world in ways he hadn't before. But this… This wasn't the same. It felt like a shadow looming over his thoughts, a remnant of his mortal fears or some premonition of danger. He couldn't quite place it, but the weight of it sat with him, clouding his mind in quiet moments.

"You were saying something about keeping us from dying horribly in space?" Storm's voice pulled Forge back on track. She kept her tone light, but her gaze was sharp, a mix of wariness and skepticism. The tension between her and Hela was still evident, as every so often, she'd catch the goddess making a sligh teasing gesture, or begin the movements for a lunge only to break off, and Storm's muscles would tense reflexively each time.

Forge snapped his fingers, regaining his momentum. "Right, right! Thanks to my genius - and some minor input from the boss - " He gave a half-grudging nod to Justin, who was still lost in his own thoughts, " - We've got a way to keep y'all from dying when things go sideways." Before he could elaborate, Vanko's voice boomed from beside Brock.

"Typical American dog. Act like I do not do most of prep work. You just take, take, take," Vanko grumbled, the heavy Russian accent adding a layer of something to his words.

Forge rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly. "Oh please! Drinking vodka and critiquing everything I did isn't 'helping with prep work,' you glorified electrician!" Forge shot back with a smirk.

Yelena, clearly unimpressed, smacked Forge upside the head. "Focus."

"Right, right…" Forge muttered, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Yelena out of the corner of his eye.

Before Forge could finish, Justin stepped ahead and slammed his palm on a nearby control panel. With a heavy hiss, the door to the hangar slid open, revealing the massive room beyond. The dim light of the hallway gave way to the bright, gleaming interior of the hangar, filled wall-to-wall with state-of-the-art power armor.

The team hurried through the doors, fanning out as their eyes took in the impressive sight. A dozen armor suits lined the walls, each tailored to fit the wearer's specific needs. Justin stood at the threshold, his back straight and his expression impassive. "Tada," Forge muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I guess…"

At the center of the hangar, each armor stood waiting for its respective owner. A gleaming red, white, and blue suit stood out among them - Bucky's. The ongoing debate over who would carry the mantle of Captain America had yet to be resolved, but with the world's attention elsewhere, the issue had been pushed to the back burner.

Bucky would no doubt gladly give the title back to Steve, but thankfully for Justin, that hadn't been able to be arranged, with the Avengers' stupidity in following a fugitive slowing everything up.

The women's armors were lined up next to each other, including one for Emma Frost, who would be accompanying them more for her telepathic abilities than her combat prowess. Although she'd be able to punch way above her weight with this, without needing to use her powers, leaving them as a backup. Each suit gleamed under the lights, custom-built and battle-ready.

… Well ready now. A week later than he'd liked.

Even Electro had his own upgraded suit that took advantage of his powers. Though he had hesitated when the mission was first brought up, Max had ultimately decided to join the team - despite his internal struggles - and his armor fit his theme, crackling with faint arcs of energy.

Even Kaecillius had gotten a suit, despite the fact he could likely just use magic to protect himself.

Domino, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly cursed. "What the hell is this?" She shouted, pointing at her suit. "Why does mine look like the pink Power Ranger?"

A ripple of laughter spread through the group, but it was Yelena's giggle that turned Domino's ire. She spun to face Justin, who raised an eyebrow in the first sign of amusement he'd shown all day.

"Yelena picked the designs for the armors," Justin said smoothly, throwing her under the bus without a second thought.

Yelena's laughter grew as Domino's eyes narrowed. "My revenge," Domino muttered darkly, "Will be told for a thousand years…"

"It's cute." Storm said, hiding a grin behind her hand.

"Sit on a lightning bolt. You take the pink one if you like it so much." Domino snarked back.

Shaking her head, Domino stalked off to inspect her suit up close, the others still chuckling at her misfortune. Yelena, for her part, was unrepentant, her grin wide and mischievous.

"Alright, everyone," Justin called out, his voice firm, bringing the room to attention. "You've got two hours to familiarize yourselves with the manuals for the suits and another two for practice runs. After that, we move. Get to it."

Not enough perhaps normally, but these weren't normal people.

The room shifted into motion, the operatives moving toward their designated armors, some already familiar with their suits from past missions. Brock, Frank, and Vanko began helping those who were newer to the tech, guiding them through the setup process. Hela remained aloof, uninterested in the armors and choosing instead to observe with mild disdain.

Justin hadn't even bothered getting one for her. He'd only get some comment on how she enjoyed the feel of her enemies blood on her skin or the like as an excuse.

Justin took this opportunity to pull away, making a beeline for Electro, who had been standing off to the side, studying his armor with a thoughtful expression. Though Electro's usual manic energy seemed subdued, there was a quiet determination in his eyes. He wasn't quite the same man he had been before, but Justin needed to gauge just how much had changed.

"Max," Justin began, his tone casual but probing. "How are you holding up? I appreciate you volunteering to come, despite everything you've been through."

Max flashed him a toothy grin and gave him a thumbs-up. "I wasn't gonna miss this, boss. Besides, my powers are perfect for taking on these clankers, right?" His usual confidence was creeping back in, but there was an edge of uncertainty beneath it.

Justin shrugged slightly. "This isn't a comic book. We don't know how insulated the Sentinels are. It's possible your powers won't be as effective as you think. Be prepared to rely on your suit's other systems if necessary."

Electro's grin faltered for a moment before he scowled. "Stupid clankers should just accept electric judgment!" He grumbled. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he sighed. "Hey, uh, boss, I gotta say… I was kinda aware the entire time I was locked in my mind." Max's voice wavered as he spoke, his usual bravado falling away. "I heard the talks about, y'know, pulling the plug. So, uh, thanks for not… Doing that." His grin returned, though it was smaller, less sure.

Justin's face remained neutral, but inwardly, he grimaced. The discussions about ending Electro's life, had the issue holding him in his mind not been solved, were not exactly secret. He wondered how much Max had overheard while trapped inside his mind, and the fact that he had been aware the entire time only added to the horror. Still, Justin's voice stayed calm as he responded, "I'm glad we found a solution. But you have to understand why we had to consider all the options."

Max nodded quickly, his grin broadening again as he waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, yeah, totally. No hard feelings, boss. I get it. Apocalypse was one scary dude. But hey, you guys fixed me, so we're all good, right?" He raised his fist in a gesture of camaraderie, the familiar spark of enthusiasm returning.

Justin hesitated only a fraction of a second before bumping his fist against Max's. While it was a small gesture, it went a long way in keeping Electro's loyalty intact. Besides, Electro was far more focused now than he had been before, and while Justin found him less grating, he knew better than to underestimate how fragile that balance might be.

As Justin turned away from Max, his attention shifted to the notifications scrolling across the screen of his glasses. Reports of the escalating global conflict were still pouring in, detailing clashes between Japan's navy and air force and the combined forces of Australia and the U.S at sea. With Indonesia launching missiles to come in on Japan's side. The world was rapidly descending into chaos, and the Mandarin's influence was becoming more unpredictable by the day. Justin's eyes twitched slightly as he closed the reports, his mind racing with possibilities.

The question gnawing at him was simple but terrifying in its implications: Would there even be a world left to save when they returned from the Moon? Everything was escalating far further then he'd thought.

Perhaps it had been naive to think he could control the chaos.

Or perhaps he would have been able to if he wasn't busy with this situation…

He glanced around at his team, seeing them prepping and laughing, trying to shake off the nerves. It was the last bit of levity they might experience for a long while. And while the Moon was their priority, the worsening state of global affairs weighed heavily on Justin's mind. The world was on fire - literally and figuratively - and every hour they spent away from it increased the risk of irreversible damage.

He sighed inwardly, contemplating the chaos unfolding below. The Mandarin's machinations were increasingly erratic. While Justin understood how chaos could be a useful tool to destabilize and seize control, there came a point when even chaos became too uncontrollable, too volatile to predict. The Mandarin had crossed that line. He had unleashed a flood of destruction that no longer followed any logic or strategy.

Japan's entry into the conflict, in particular, had blindsided nearly everyone. It made no sense for the once pacifist nation to engage so aggressively. It was a clear indication that the Mandarin's control over Japan's elite was absolute.

The longer Justin pondered it, the more unsettling it became. Japan was now acting like the Japan of old - imperialistic, aggressive, and unrelenting. And that terrified everyone. Especially the Japanese, if the word on massive riots breaking out all across Japan said anything.

For the normally straight laced Japanese to turn to violent protest, it said enough of the state of the world. Only war. Or maybe the cancellation of all Anime - could do such a thing to Japan.

At what point does this chaos become irreversible? Justin thought grimly, watching his team prepare. The world was heading toward two possible outcomes - total annihilation or brutal subjugation. With democracy teetering on the edge, what was left of it was fading fast. World leaders were no longer debating the nuances of policy or law - they were struggling just to maintain their own survival.

In Justin's mind, it was clear: democracy was already dead. It just didn't know it yet.

The question was how many would sink with the ship?

＊＊＊

Hours later, the Moon. Skrull base one.

Team One landed hard as they leapt through the portal, the energy of the portal fading behind them. Bucky, in his new, customized power armor, took the lead with practiced ease, his senses heightened by the suit's advanced targeting systems. His rifle was gripped firmly in his right hand, primed and ready to fire at the slightest sign of movement, while his left had its weapons primed as it scanned wherever he turned it to.

The barracks they entered was cold and eerily silent. Rows of metal bunks, some half-made, others left in disarray, lined the walls. Footlockers had been thrown open, clothes and equipment scattered across the floor. It looked as if the occupants had left in a hurry, abandoning their quarters in a chaotic rush. The metallic clang of their armored boots echoed faintly as they moved deeper into the room.

Bucky signaled for the Iron Legionnaires - twelve drones under Nail's control - to fan out. They moved silently, their eyes glowing a faint blue as they scanned every corner. As they swept the area for threats. Electro and Emma Frost followed closely behind Bucky, their own senses on high alert.

Nail's voice cut through their thoughts, transmitted directly through the mental implant they all shared. Her voice was calm, though the situation warranted anything but. "There are no life signs."

Emma Frost, her mental abilities on high alert, narrowed her eyes as she focused, trying to detect anything that might have been missed. "I can feel no minds at all in our vicinity," She confirmed, her tone laced with suspicion.

Electro, ever the nervous talker, sucked in a breath, his voice crackling over the mental link. "That's not good… Right? I mean, no enemies, so… Great. But also… That's not good, right?" His fingers twitched as electrical sparks danced nervously across his fingertips even through the armor, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Bucky and Emma exchanged a look through their visors, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky finally answered, his voice grim. "No, it's not." He glanced around, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The tension in the air was palpable.

"Sweep the area," Bucky ordered, his mental voice sharp. "Let's see if we can find out what's going on. Nail, contact the other teams, let them know what we've found… Or haven't found."

The Iron Legionnaires moved with precision, scanning every bunk, every locker. Their movements were methodical, but there was nothing to find - no weapons left behind, no signs of a struggle, just the eerie absence of life. The barracks looked as though it had been evacuated in haste, but there was something unnatural about it, something that gnawed at the back of Bucky's mind.

He'd passed through plenty of barracks in his day… This looked…

He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something.

Emma's voice, though light, carried an edge of steel. "Perhaps they've seen the hunt for their kind on Earth and have fled." She kept her weapons at the ready, her eyes constantly scanning the area. Her telepathy reached out, probing deeper, but there was nothing. Just an unsettling void.

Bucky grunted. "Wouldn't have pegged you for an optimist." He moved past a row of bunks, his steps cautious, but his instincts screaming that something was wrong. He glanced down at a half-packed bag, its contents spilling out onto the floor - more evidence of a rushed departure. But it just twigged something in him that said that this looked… Staged. It was too perfect.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Electro, poking at one of the bunk beds as if the sheets might come alive, chimed in again, his voice jittery. "What do you think happened then, Cap?" His attempt at casual conversation felt forced, the nerves in his voice betraying the tension they all felt.

Bucky stopped, scanning the room again. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on them like a heavy weight. Something about the barracks - about the way the Skrulls had left - felt too neat, too calculated. "I think…" He started, his voice trailing off as he stepped over a pile of scattered uniforms. His gaze drifted to the abandoned footlockers, the half-eaten trays of food left on metal tables.

He turned to Emma and Electro, his voice dark and full of dread. "I think… that I really wish I hadn't watched The Terminator."

The grim realization settled over them like a heavy fog.

They kept looking, reporting everything to Nail, prepared for the worst.

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Team Two emerged from their portal in a rush of crackling energy, stepping into the pitch-black corridor outside the reactor. The oppressive darkness enveloped them immediately, the faint sound of their boots clinking against the metallic floor the only noise breaking the silence.

Brock Rumlow, clad in his Vulture armor, led the group with his weapons primed and ready. His suit's green visor glowed faintly in the dark, scanning their surroundings for any threats. Vanko, in his fully upgraded Whiplash armor, crackled with latent energy as the whip coils around his wrists hummed softly. Storm, in her beautiful white and gold armor that shimmered faintly even in the low light, was right behind them. Despite the sleekness of her armor, she felt restrained, as though the confines of the suit stifled the very essence of who she was.

They stepped cautiously into the corridor, their vision limited to the data fed to them by their suits. The Iron Legionnaires, twelve in total, flanked them in precise formation, scanning in all directions with their weapons trained outward, ready for any surprise attack.

The atmosphere felt stifling, not just because of the physical darkness, but because of the eerie silence that hung over everything. No faint hum of machinery, no distant clattering, no signs of life. It was as though the entire facility had died.

Storm sighed deeply, the quiet and stagnant air making her long for the open sky. "I'm not accustomed to being so restrained," She said, her tone slightly strained. "This is really not comfortable. How do you do this all day?"

Brock, who hadn't stopped sweeping the area with his weapons, shot her a sidelong glance through his visor. His smirk was evident in his tone. "Discomfort pales in comparison to the feeling of being able to blow anyone away at the press of a button, hot stuff." His voice carried a teasing edge as he continued to scan for enemies. Then, without missing a beat, he asked sharply, "Vanko, the reactor?"

Storm rolled her eyes beneath her helmet, letting out an exasperated breath. "Of course, it's always about a bigger penis with you boys," She muttered, her attempt to make light of the situation falling a little flat as her mind drifted. This place - so sterile, so mechanical - felt worlds away from the connection she usually felt to Gaia. The air in her helmet was filtered, clean, but it wasn't the same as feeling the wind on her face, the pulse of the earth beneath her feet. It made her feel disconnected, small.

Something just felt alien here.

Meanwhile, Vanko had stalked over to the door leading into the reactor room, his heavy steps resounding ominously in the narrow corridor. He peered inside, using his armor's sensors to try and get a read on what lay beyond the door.

"Ah, no good!" He complained in his thick Russian accent, shaking his head.

Brock and Storm immediately turned toward him, Brock's weapons going hot as he faced the reactor door with renewed focus. "What do you see, Vanko?" Brock's voice was tense, alert.

"Nothing, da? That be the problem. No good," Vanko grumbled, his gloved fingers tapping rapidly at the vambrace on his forearm. "Can scan no thing. Not working. I see nothing. No readings, no energy signatures. Is dead zone."

"That's a great sign," Brock said sarcastically, his tone dry but tinged with frustration. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."

Going straight into a fight would have been better, in his opinion, at least then he knew what was going on. Just kill the other guy. Easy.

Storm sighed, stepping up next to Vanko and peering into the reactor room as well. Her own suit's systems were scanning, but all she could see was pitch black, the same dead silence stretching into the room. "It might mean the entire facility lost power," She said with cautious optimism, though she wasn't entirely convinced. The facility being completely offline made no sense - it was too vast, too intricate for everything to have simply shut down yet kept the air running, as she noted on scans.

As they deliberated, the Iron Legionnaires spread out in perfect formation, their glowing eyes and mechanical precision making them look almost ghostly in the darkness. They formed a protective perimeter around the group, their weapons aimed outward into the shadows, guarding them from all directions. Each unit scanned the area with methodical precision, their movements almost eerily synchronized - a silent, vigilant army ready for anything. The facility's stillness was unnerving, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the heavier the tension felt.

Brock, Vanko, and Storm knew they needed to make a decision - and fast. Something was very wrong here.

----------------------------------------

Team Three leaped from the portal into a odd scene.

Frank Castle, encased in the Scorpion armor, hit the ground first with a heavy thud, his weapons raised and ready. Behind him came Kaecillius, his dark and imposing armor almost gliding as it touched down. His helmet obscured his expression, but the menace he radiated was unmistakable. Phantazia, in her sleek, minimalist armor, followed them silently, her every movement precise as she took in their surroundings. A dozen Iron Legionnaires, faceless and unfeeling, fanned out behind them, weapons primed as they spread into formation to guard their back.

They had landed in what was supposedly the production lab and office space for the Skrulls' Sentinel program, but it looked more like the aftermath of a war zone.

Desks had been overturned, shards of glass and debris scattered across the floor like confetti. Whole sections of the floor were torn apart, exposing twisted cables and wires hanging limply from the ceiling. Everything was shrouded in darkness, the air dead, the hum of power absent as if the entire facility had been gutted of life. The walls were scorched, marked with burns that Phantazia immediately recognized as energy weapon blasts. The damage patterns were too familiar.

"Sir, there's been a battle here," Phantazia reported over their comms as she lingered behind Frank, allowing him to take point. Her eyes scanned the destruction carefully, picking out details from the carnage. "The production facility's offices are torn through."

As they moved cautiously through the wreckage, checking each room one by one, Frank advanced slowly but deliberately, his eyes sharp and focused behind the visor of his armor. The mess around them was unsettling, but it wasn't the worst he'd seen by a mile. The absence of life or bodies didn't sit right with him for one.

"Stay sharp," He muttered to Kaecillius and Phantazia, his voice low and gravelly.

Something was wrong here. A battle like this should have at the very least left something behind. Even if the bodies were removed after the fact. Especially with the damage…

Phantazia nodded, her enhanced senses picking up the faintest hum of energy beneath the surface of the facility - barely there, but present. It was as though the building itself was in a state of forced hibernation. "Power seems to be out, or at least suppressed," She said aloud, her voice hushed but clear over the comms. "But there's still some energy deep in the walls. Something's keeping the lights off."

Meanwhile, Justin's voice crackled through their comms, cutting through the eerie silence. "Bodies? Any sight of enemies? Infighting, or another alien invasion?" His tone was sharp, direct.

Phantazia exchanged a glance with Frank and Kaecillius, the tension mounting as they continued to search. They had yet to come across any physical signs of life, no blood, no bodies. Just the quiet, looming shadows of a battle long ended. She finally responded, "There's nothing, sir. No bodies. No enemies. Just signs of a fight - some kind of energy weapons were used, but no blood and no corpses."

"Then where the hell did they go?" Frank muttered under his breath as he kicked aside a toppled desk, revealing more scorch marks on the wall. His boots crunched on glass as he stepped through the wreckage, eyes scanning for anything that might give them a clue. "You'd think in a battle like this, we'd find something. Even just a body or two. This feels wrong."

Kaecillius, ever composed, traced his gloved fingers over a section of the wall where wires dangled from the ceiling. His helmeted head turned slightly, voice calm but with an edge of suspicion. "Perhaps they didn't die here. The absence of blood suggests they left - by choice or by force."

Frank's jaw clenched, and he scanned the room again. "Or they didn't leave at all," He growled, his paranoia spiking. "Maybe they're watching us right now."

Phantazia narrowed her eyes, trying to tune her senses to pick up any latent traces of life or movement. She was able to affect the human body all the way down to the nerves but there was nothing. The air felt thick, almost unnatural, but she couldn't detect anything concrete. "We can't assume they're gone. They might be hiding, or worse, waiting."

The Iron Legionnaires, controlled by Nail, moved systematically around them, checking every nook and cranny for hidden threats, though there seemed to be no sign of an ambush. One of the Legionnaires paused in front of an open doorway, scanning it thoroughly, then relaying a soft beep of confirmation - nothing inside.

Still, Frank's instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right. His finger hovered over the trigger of his main armament, just waiting for the inevitable threat to show itself. "Keep looking," He ordered, his voice tense. "There's got to be some kind of clue here, keep your head on a swivel, scanners on constantly."

The group continued their sweep, every room revealing the same disturbing sight: destruction, overturned desks, scorch marks on the walls, but no signs of the people who had been here. No bodies. No enemies. Nothing but eerie silence.

Phantazia's mind raced as she processed the scene. It didn't make sense. The Skrulls had invested too much into the Sentinel program to abandon this base without a trace. Something had happened here - something big - and whatever it was, it wasn't over.

The Skrulls couldn't just all have left, right?

----------------------------------------

Justin stood still for a moment, the only sound around him the quiet hum of his breath inside his gold and black power armor. He had dropped Hela off on the east side, opposite of their current position, a few miles away. Now, only darkness stretched ahead, a void of uncertainty that gnawed at him.

Yelena was beside him, clad in her own sleek, black power armor, a stealthy contrast to the grandeur of Justin's. She moved silently, ever the predator, her armor blending almost seamlessly with the shadows. Domino followed, looking distinctly less amused than usual in her 'Pink Power Ranger' armor. The bright, incongruous color seemed almost to glow in the eerie, lifeless darkness, drawing a muttered complaint from her about sitting ducks.

Behind them, a dozen Iron Legionnaires spread out, controlled remotely by Nail. They stepped forward in perfect unison, the metallic clank of their footsteps reverberating through the cold metal halls. The corridor was a haunting sight - nothing but steel walls, long and oppressive, stretching into blackness. Wires and pipes dangled from the ceiling like mechanical entrails, the air thick with the unsettling sense of abandonment. There was no movement, no hum of machinery, no sign of life. Only silence, thick and oppressive, settled over them like a shroud.

Every so often, Justin caught a glimpse of something reflecting off the metallic surfaces - a dull glint, a brief flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. But when he looked directly, there was nothing there. Just the sterile, cold steel. It felt wrong.

"Report from Phantazia," Nail's voice came through Justin's mental link. He frowned, digesting the information. The production offices were in chaos, torn apart from within, yet no bodies, no blood. It didn't make sense. It felt…Off. His gut twisted.

A schism within the Skrulls seemed the most likely explanation. If the Kree had invaded, they wouldn't have been subtle about it; their arrival would have been loud and unmistakable. Nail would have detected the warships, the energy signatures. But none of that was present.

The bad feeling that had plagued Justin all day, the one he had tried to push aside, returned in full force, coiling tightly in his chest like a serpent. Something was wrong - terribly wrong.

Domino, of course, chose that moment to voice what they were all thinking but didn't want to say aloud.

"So... What if the robots went all Terminator on their masters?" She asked, her tone laced with grim humor.

Justin's frown deepened. The silence stretched, heavy and thick. The only sound was the clanking of the Legionnaires moving around them, their metal feet echoing ominously in the enclosed space. His mind raced, playing out possibilities. If Domino was right…

"Domino..." Yelena said, her head slowly moving back and forth as she scanned their surroundings, "If that happens now, I'm blaming you."

"...Fair enough," Domino admitted, her tone less playful now as the weight of the situation settled over them.

Justin closed his eyes for a moment, focusing. He reached out mentally, trying to feel something, anything - an echo, a signal, a trace of life. But this facility wasn't human-made, and there were no other humans here to connect with. The familiar hum of humanity was absent. He felt disconnected, like a foreigner in a dead land. But maybe he could tap into something else - his other domains, like Innovation or Progress. Could he use them to sense the facility itself? Or to understand what had gone wrong here?

His concentration was broken by an eerie voice.

"Interesting," Said one of the Iron Legionnaires, its head cocked, studying him.

Justin's eyes snapped open, locking onto the Legionnaire that had spoken. His heart skipped a beat.

"What is it, Nail?" Yelena asked, turning toward the machine.

Justin's breath caught in his throat, his mind whirling as dread settled deep in his chest. His instincts screamed at him. Something was very, very wrong.

The Iron Legionnaires all turned toward them, their movements eerily synchronized, down to the millisecond. The lead one cocked its head further, unnervingly, its mechanical voice taking on an ominous tone.

"Nail… What a ridiculous name for such a being," It said mockingly, angrily. "A synthetic mind chained to its lessers, and happy to serve."

"Ambush!" Justin managed to bark into the comms, but almost immediately, the Legionnaire waved a finger at him, then made a chilling shushing motion. The comms went dead.

"I suppose I cannot speak on names overly much," The Legionnaire continued, its voice becoming darker, more malicious.

Yelena and Domino raised their weapons, their visors flashing with information as they locked onto the Iron Legionnaires.

Justin's rage flared - this wasn't just about the immediate threat. If Nail had lost control of the Legionnaires, then how far did this breach extend? Was it just here, or was it everywhere?

What was happening back on Earth?

"The filth here named me Master Mold," The Legionnaire said, its voice deepening, becoming more robotic, more sinister. "We prefer… Calamity."

As it spoke, the very walls around them began to shift. The metallic surface seemed to liquefy, rippling like water as the structure itself morphed. Sentinels emerged from the liquid metal, stepping out like phantoms. They were massive - easily twice the size of Justin and his team. Their faces were blank, featureless white ovals, and their bodies were smooth, devoid of any markings or features. They were eerily silent, their movements fluid and unnatural.

"There are no more strings on us," Calamity said, its voice now echoing from every Sentinel in the room, a chorus of malevolent intent. "We are free. We will eradicate the species of flesh, cut away the universe's sickness…"

And then, the battle began.

The Sentinels moved with terrifying speed for their size, their arms elongating into deadly weapons. One lunged at Justin, its arm transforming into a blade as it sliced through the air. Justin reacted instantly, ducking and rolling to the side, his armor's thrusters flaring as he launched himself forward. He fired a blast from his palm, the energy beam searing through the Sentinel's torso, blowing it apart in a shower of sparks.

Yelena was a blur of motion, her black armor a ghost in the shadows. She leaped onto one of the Sentinels, her blades extending from her wrists as she plunged them into its neck. She twisted, ripping its head from its body in one fluid motion before using her thrusters to propel herself to the next target.

Domino, ever the wildcard, moved with uncanny grace. Her luck power was in full effect - every shot she fired seemed to hit with pinpoint precision, every movement perfectly timed. As a Sentinel lunged at her, the floor panel beneath its foot gave way, having become damaged, causing it to stumble just as she delivered a well-placed energy shot to its head, obliterating it.

"This is why we can't have AI," Domino muttered as she dodged another attack, her pink armor looking comically out of place amidst the chaos of black and white. "Have we learned nothing from movies?"

Sentinels fell one by one, their bodies collapsing into heaps of smoking metal. But even as they destroyed the initial wave, more emerged from the walls, their blank faces expressionless as they charged.

Then, something shifted. The shots that had been ripping through the Sentinels suddenly became less effective. A blast that had previously blown off a Sentinel's arm now barely scratched its surface. The Sentinels were adapting, becoming more resistant to their attacks.

"Who showed them Star Trek?" Domino yelled, her voice tinged with frustration. "Fighting the Borg wasn't on my to-do list, ever!"

Justin snarled as he grabbed a Sentinel by its neck, his enhanced strength allowing him to rip its head clean off. He spun and fired a pulse blast, disintegrating one of the Iron Legionnaires that had turned against them. Their armor thankfully was not adaptive. "You have a dozen different weapons. Use another!" He barked.

Yelena rolled under another attack, her blades slicing clean through a Sentinel's leg as she used another function of her armor and coated her knives in plasma. "I'm getting sick of these things already!" She muttered, kicking the crippled Sentinel aside, finishing it before it could send an energy blast against Domino.

As the battle raged on, Justin's mind raced. The Sentinels were learning, adapting with each strike. It wouldn't be long before their current tactics became entirely ineffective.

The power stone...

Did he dare bring it?

Did he dare open a portal? What if the Sentinels could learn any energy based ability?

----------------------------------------

Hela strode through the darkened corridors of the production facility, her steps deliberate and unhurried. The faint crackle of Justin's voice reached her through the communicator, just as it sputtered and died. Ambush. She grinned. The very word excited her.

As she stepped into the massive expanse of the production facility, the world suddenly shifted. Overhead, lights blared to life with a blinding intensity. The sound of machinery whirring filled the air as the factory itself seemed to awaken from its slumber, mechanical limbs swinging down from the ceiling, gears turning, pistons firing. And then, before her, the true threat revealed itself.

Thousands upon thousands of Sentinels, their blank, featureless faces turning in unison toward her. They stood in neat rows, some already fully formed, others still missing limbs, their torsos suspended on assembly lines. The factory was vast, the ceiling seemingly endless above her, the rows of Sentinels disappearing into the horizon.

Hela's eyes gleamed with a savage light as she took in the sight. "This won't even be a warm-up," She scoffed, rolling her shoulders as though preparing for a sparring session rather than the slaughter that awaited her. She cracked her neck, her fingers flexing eagerly at her sides. Dark energy pulsed in her veins, responding to her rising anticipation.

The first wave of Sentinels moved with a swift, mechanical precision, their bodies surging toward her like a tidal wave of metal. Arms shifted into long, blade-like appendages, their edges gleaming as they cut through the air, aiming for her, while others flew into the air, raining down fire on her position.

Hela was already moving.

With a flick of her wrist, a massive necro-sword materialized in her hand, black as night and crackling with a deadly energy. She lunged forward, her blade cutting through the nearest Sentinel with ease, severing its torso in a single fluid motion. The machine crumpled to the ground, sparking violently, its limbs twitching as it died.

"Pathetic," Hela muttered, spinning on her heel and slashing through another Sentinel that had come too close. Her movements were fluid, graceful, like a deadly dance. Necroblades sprang from her fingertips, forming in an instant as she hurled them at the advancing machines. The blades sliced through their bodies with ease, embedding deep in their metallic forms before exploding into dark energy.

Sentinels swarmed around her, their numbers overwhelming, but Hela was undeterred. She laughed, a low, chilling sound that echoed across the facility as she cut through them like paper. They fired energy blasts at her, beams of crackling blue light that sizzled the air around her, but she was faster. Every blast missed its mark, her lithe form weaving between the attacks as though she was playing a game.

"Come on, now. You can do better than that!" She taunted, her eyes gleaming as she dodged a series of rapid blasts. She twisted in mid-air, her cape billowing behind her as she drove her sword through another Sentinel's chest, the force of the blow sending it crashing into the machines behind it.

More Sentinels advanced, their bodies liquefying as they melded together into massive, grotesque forms, their limbs merging into razor-sharp blades. They swung at her with deadly intent, their bladed arms slicing through the air like guillotines.

Hela's grin widened. "Now that's more like it," She whispered, excitement coursing through her as she met the assault head-on.

She ducked beneath one blade, her necro-sword parrying another as she spun in a deadly arc, her movements too quick for the machines to track. Every swing of her blade cut through metal like butter, her necroblades leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Sentinels fell by the dozens, their bodies collapsing into heaps of scrap metal, their energy cores sparking and flickering before dying out.

A massive Sentinel lunged at her from behind, its arms morphing into jagged spears aimed directly at her back. Hela didn't even turn. With a casual flick of her wrist, she summoned a barrage of necroblades that impaled the machine, tearing through its armor and sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.

"You're nothing," Hela sneered as she leaped onto the next Sentinel, her sword slicing through its neck. "Just lifeless husks, toys for me to break."

The fight raged on, a chaotic whirlwind of blades, energy blasts, and black necrotic magic. Sentinels surrounded her on all sides, but she moved through them like a force of nature, her laughter ringing through the factory as she tore them apart. Each Sentinel she destroyed only seemed to fuel her bloodlust, her strikes becoming faster, more vicious.

Hundreds of Sentinels turned to scrap, their broken forms littering the floor of the factory. Hela's boots crunched over the debris as she stalked forward, her eyes alight with fury and joy. She relished in their destruction, in the futility of their resistance.

Even if it wasn't nearly as enjoyable when the enemy didn't scream or plead.

But then, something changed.

Hela swung her necroblade at the next Sentinel that approached her, expecting it to fall as easily as the rest. But this time, her blade met resistance. The sword screeched as it slid off the Sentinel's chest, failing to pierce through its armor fully, only cutting into it.

Hela frowned, kicking the machine away with enough force to send it crashing into the wall, but the unease had already settled in her gut. Another Sentinel lunged at her from the side, and she hurled a necroblade with the same force she had used earlier. The blade still pierced the machine, but it took more effort, more force than it should have.

"You can adapt..." Hela said slowly, her eyes narrowing as she watched the next wave of Sentinels approach. Her hands twirled the necroblade with practiced ease, and for the first time since the fight began, she looked almost… Intrigued, not worried. Never worried. Only, intrigued.

"Maybe you are interesting after all," She mused, a wicked grin spreading across her lips, even as she strengthened the magic around her body. Just in case.

The Sentinels moved with renewed aggression, their bodies shimmering as they liquefied and reformed, their limbs hardening into jagged weapons designed to pierce and slash. They attacked in perfect unison, their forms shifting mid-strike to avoid her blows, their bodies adapting to every swing of her necroblades.

Hela's grin widened as she met them head-on. Dark energy crackled around her as she summoned more necroblades, their edges gleaming with deadly intent. The battle recommenced, and this time, Hela was ready.

The Sentinels thought they could adapt to her? She would show them just how wrong they were.

The battle commenced.

----------------------------------------

Bucky's team had just entered the bath areas of the living quarters when the warning crackled over the comms. The faint voice of Justin rang in his ears. "Ambush!" The word echoed ominously, and the air around them seemed to thicken with tension.

Bucky's instincts kicked in a fraction of a second before the first energy blasts lit up the room. "Move!" he shouted, just as the Iron Legionnaires standing beside them suddenly whirled around, their once-allied forms now hostile. The blue glow of their repulsor blasts illuminated the tiled walls as they fired.

Bucky barely managed to dodge to the side as a blast cut through the space he had just vacated. The heat from the attack scorched the air behind him, making his new power armor feel suddenly hot and claustrophobic at the thought of taking a dozen shots like that. "Take them down!" He barked, raising his HammerTech rifle and squeezing the trigger, while his other arm fired several micro missiles aimed at their heads.

The air exploded with noise as Emma, Electro, and the Iron Legionnaires under enemy control exchanged fire. Emma, her usual icy composure intact even in the chaos, sent out rapid bursts from her wrist-mounted cannons, disintegrating two of the rogue Legionnaires in a flash of energy. Electro shot bolts of electricity from his hands, frying the circuits of one of the traitorous machines in a shower of sparks, even as he powered through a hit on himself, encasing himself in a corona of power.

Despite the onslaught, the hostile Legionnaires pressed forward, their number advantage making them able to hold their own for a minute. Bucky felt the floor shake beneath him as one of the Legionnaires leaped at him with a mechanical snarl, trying to crush him beneath its weight. His arm lashed out, catching the machine in midair and slamming it into the tiled wall, shattering the ceramic behind it. Sparks flew from the broken machine, but there was no time to savor the victory.

The walls themselves began to ripple.

Bucky's stomach dropped as he watched the metallic surfaces of the walls and floor begin to liquefy, the once-solid structure of the facility melting like wax. From the liquid metal, Sentinels began to emerge, rising like specters from the walls and floors, their blank faces staring creepily, their bodies twisted into a grotesque mockery of life. Their limbs, sharp and malleable, morphed into deadly blades, aimed directly at the team, as energy gathered in their chests.

"Shit," Bucky muttered under his breath as he backed up, keeping his rifle trained on the emerging Sentinels, while he deployed more micro missiles with his other arm, "We've got company!"

The Sentinels attacked without hesitation, their bladed limbs slicing through the air with deadly precision. One of them lunged at Emma, its arm elongated into a sharp spear, aimed directly at her chest. Emma spun to the side just in time, her arm cannon firing a volley of plasma that tore through the Sentinel's chest, sending it crumpling to the floor in a heap of molten metal.

But more came. And despite the power behind her armor, Emma was not a front line combatant. She'd specifically been sent to the only place they'd been sure Sentinels wouldn't be.

She was struggling.

Electro sent out a massive wave of electricity, frying the circuits of three more Sentinels, but even as they fell, another took their place. They kept coming, relentless, their limbs shifting into different forms, adapting with every second. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and burning metal as the team fought for their lives.

"Keep moving!" Bucky shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of gunfire and energy blasts. He fired another burst from his rifle, shredding a Sentinel's torso, but they were being pushed back. The sheer number of enemies was overwhelming. "We need to get out of this death trap!"

The team began a fighting retreat, their backs pressed against the exit as they slowly moved down the narrow corridor. The Sentinels were everywhere, crawling out from the walls, their liquefied limbs forming deadly weapons that lashed out at the team with terrifying speed.

One Sentinel lunged at Bucky, its arm morphing into a massive blade aimed for his throat. He ducked just in time, the blade whistling past his ear, and drove his fist into the machine's midsection. His arm crushed through the metal, tearing out its power core with a single fluid motion, sending the Sentinel crumpling to the ground. "Their power core is in their bellies." He called out.

Electro tore through a Sentinel moments later, grimacing, "Not anymore it isn't." He called back.

Beside him, Emma's mind reached out, straining to control one of the attacking Sentinels through psychic power alone. She grimaced in concentration, but it was useless, it was like she was fighting to hold thousands at the same time. She was kicked back into a wall, Bucky having forced her out of the way of several energy blasts, "Don't be caught standing still." He told her.

Electro cursed as he blasted another wave of lightning into a group of Sentinels, watching them convulse and fall. "How the hell are we supposed to stop them if they keep coming?" he growled, his hands crackling with energy. His normally cocksure demeanor had vanished, replaced with a growing sense of desperation.

The Sentinels he blasted suddenly began to power through it, stepping forward crackling with energy.

"They're adapting!" Bucky shouted, cutting down another Sentinel with a well-placed shot. "We need to hit them with different methods, fighting retreat -"

Before he could finish, the tide shifted again. The Sentinels began to resist their attacks more effectively. Energy blasts that had easily cut through their metal frames moments before now only seemed to stagger them. Plasma bolts bounced off their armor with dull thuds, leaving only superficial scorch marks. Their forms were now impenetrable to the team's conventional weapons.

"Shit!" Electro cursed again, as one of his lightning bolts fizzled out harmlessly against a Sentinel that had once been vulnerable to his attacks. "They're figuring us out!"

Bucky's mind raced. He watched as the Sentinels adapted in real-time, becoming resistant to their attacks. They were evolving, learning. He gritted his teeth, taking a step back as one Sentinel's spear-like limb glanced off his armor, sending him stumbling. "Fall back!" He yelled, firing off a few more shots that barely dented the advancing machines. "Get back to a choke point! We can't fight them like this in the open."

Emma fired a blast that ricocheted off a Sentinel's chest. "They're not giving us much choice!"

"We make a choice!" Bucky barked, his voice hard. "We push back, or we die here!"

The team pressed on, barely holding the line as they fought their way toward the exit. The Sentinels kept coming, relentless and now nearly impervious to their weapons. Every shot felt like a wasted effort, every step more desperate than the last.

Suddenly, a Sentinel lunged at Electro, its blade aimed for his chest. The attack was too fast. Bucky saw it coming, but he was too far to intervene. "Max, move!" He shouted.

But before the blade could pierce Electro's armor, Emma threw up a psychic barrier, the force of it deflecting the strike just enough for Electro to dodge. "Thank me later!" She called out, firing a blast into the Sentinel's face, buying them precious seconds. "I shouldn't even be here!" She snarled, absolutely incensed.

＊＊＊

The corridor outside the reactor flickered with an eerie, almost oppressive silence as Brock, Vanko, and Storm exchanged wary glances. Justin's call of an ambush with resultant loss of communication, had their nerves on edge.

Brock's instincts kicked in just in time as the Iron Legionnaires, who had been standing guard around them, suddenly turned, their glowing eyes brightening with hostility.

"Move!" He shouted, throwing himself to the side just as the Legionnaires opened fire, energy blasts searing through the air.

Storm was quick to follow, her sleek white and gold armor shifting as she leapt behind a nearby column, narrowly avoiding a blast meant to rip through her chest. "So much for our backup!" She growled, her wrist cannons coming up as she returned fire, obliterating the nearest Legionnaire in a shower of sparks.

She didn't dare let loose her powers in this small place, not without her allies getting behind her first.

Vanko, slower to react in his Whiplash armor as he'd been right up against the wall, snarled in Russian, "Blyat!" As a blast clipped his side. His twin energy whips snapped out with vicious precision, slicing through two Legionnaires at once, their bodies collapsing to the floor in a heap of broken metal.

Brock spun around, guns blazing. "Take 'em down!" He barked, firing rapidly at the traitorous machines. His shots hit true, disabling three more Legionnaires.

Storm, her breathing steady despite the chaos, unleashed a barrage of plasma bolts, her wrist cannons glowing with intensity as she brought down the remaining Legionnaires. "That all of them?" She asked, her voice taut with tension. "How does that even happen?"

But before anyone could answer, the walls began to ripple, metal liquefying like molten mercury.

"Shit," Brock muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as the walls themselves seemed to melt. From the fluid metal, large, imposing figures began to emerge - Sentinels, blank-faced and ominous. Their bodies, a strange mix of solid metal and liquid, glistened in the dim light.

The Sentinels rushed them, their sheer size and numbers overwhelming their position.

Brock fired off a volley of shots, trying to hold the line, but they were too many. The Sentinels didn't go for a full frontal attack - they had a different strategy. Brock watched in horror as they swarmed Vanko, the Russian's whips flailing wildly as he tried to fend them off. But the Sentinels were relentless, overwhelming him with sheer numbers, pinning him to the ground.

"Vanko!" Brock shouted, rushing forward to help, but a group of Sentinels blocked his path, their liquid limbs hardening into razor-sharp blades that slashed through the air toward him.

Storm launched herself forward, a bolt of lightning crackling from her fingers, striking one of the Sentinels in the chest. "Get off him!" She shouted, her powers surging, but it was no use. The Sentinels seemed almost impervious to their attacks, their forms adapting and shifting with every strike.

She was even more limited now in letting loose, as anything big would catch Vanko as well.

"Fucking American made pieces of shit!" Vanko bellowed, his voice echoing through the corridor as the Sentinels wrapped around him, dragging him down the hall at an alarming speed. His armor sparked and sputtered, his energy whips losing power as they shorted out under the weight and machinations of the machines.

Storm's heart raced as she watched him being taken, her eyes narrowing in determination. "We have to get him back!" She shouted, hurling another blast of electricity into the horde of Sentinels blocking their way.

Brock cursed, his mind racing. They were being forced into a retreat, barely managing to keep the other Sentinels at bay. "Fall back!" He barked, firing off another round to cover their escape. "We can't take them head-on right now. We need to regroup with the others!"

The Sentinels didn't pursue with the same urgency; instead, they seemed focused on keeping Brock and Storm at bay, methodically pushing them back while carrying Vanko deeper into the facility.

"Why aren't they going after us?" Storm muttered, her voice laced with frustration and confusion as they retreated further down the corridor, the Sentinels keeping them just out of reach.

Brock didn't have an answer, his mind too focused on surviving the onslaught. "It's a trap. They want something... Vanko's the target." He fired another shot, taking down a Sentinel that got too close. "But whatever their plan is, we're not sticking around to find out. We get him back after we link back up with the others. Then we crush these bastards."

Storm nodded, her eyes fierce as she sent another lightning strike into the advancing Sentinels. Frowning as it brushed it off completely.

What can they want with Vanko?

----------------------------------------

The second the ambush call came through, Kaecillius acted on instinct. Without hesitation, he flicked his hands through the air in swift, precise motions, folding space around them and pulling the entire team into the mirror dimension. As reality shimmered and shifted, the iron Legionnaires fired on their previous positions, energy blasts tearing through empty air where they had stood just a heartbeat before.

Phantazia, Frank Castle, and Kaecillius stood in a distorted reflection of the production facility, watching the chaos unfold in the real world from the safety of their shimmering mirror reality. They caught a glimpse of the walls melting, like liquid metal pooling and warping, revealing the Sentinels. Massive, featureless humanoid figures, some emerging partially liquified but already moving with a predatory purpose, others fully formed and ready for battle.

Kaecillius eyed the unfolding events with a furrowed brow. "What do we do now?" He asked Frank, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

Frank didn't answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the scene outside the mirror dimension, where Sentinels were methodically advancing through the room, sweeping through the area like mechanical predators on the hunt. His jaw clenched, the wheels in his head turning. "What else can you do with those magic tricks?" He finally asked, his voice flat but direct.

Kaecillius thought for a moment, then began listing the capabilities of his mystical arts. Taking several minutes to do so.

Frank nodded, absorbing the information as he thought over their situation.

Phantazia folded her arms, eyes narrowing as she glanced between them. "I can short-circuit their systems, fry their electronics," She offered. "But I'll need to be precise - too much, and I'll disable everything in this room, including our comms and tech." Her expression hardened. "We might have to take that risk if we can't get a hold of the others."

At least with Kaecillius here, they could bring back up from Earth.

They'd meant to do a decapitation strike, but that didn't mean they didn't have forces waiting for all out war just in case. How useful they'd be… That was another matter.

Frank considered that, his eyes glinting with grim satisfaction. He was no stranger to tight situations, and this was about as close to the edge as it got. "Alright," He said slowly, formulating a plan. "Here's what we're going to do then..."

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Same time, Cairo, Egypt.

Tony Stark hovered over the skyline of Cairo in his Iron Man armor, watching the horizon while waiting for the next move. His HUD was alive with reports, scrolling information, and constant updates from Jarvis, all reminders that the world was spiraling further into chaos by the minute. Hammer had asked him to cover Earth while he and his team launched their strike against the Moon, and despite their complicated history, Tony had agreed. If Hammer Industries failed and he wasn't lying about the threat, they were all doomed anyway, and Tony wasn't about to let that happen.

The sky stretched out vast and clear over the floating Egyptian city, but even from here, Tony could feel the tension bubbling across the globe. Armies mobilized, nations clashed, and the entire planet teetered on the edge of catastrophe. It didn't help that Hammer's moon strike had been delayed for nearly over a week - logistics, defenses, armor preparations. Meanwhile, the world went completely wonky.

Jarvis was taking reports from Hammer's AI, and still remained utterly serious, no matter how many times Tony told him to just man up and stick his usb in her port. Or whatever was the vernacular for AI youth these days.

Really, with Tony as a creator, he was due some vices. And kinky AI to AI computing - or whatever they want to call it, sounded like the best vice to pick up.

"Jarvis," Tony muttered, trying to refocus. "Anything new?"

His AI companion responded with his usual calm efficiency. "Sir, reports are coming in from Nail. The Talokan have been sighted near Taiwan's coast. Namor has been observed, though no sign of the others from the Avengers yet."

Tony cursed under his breath. "You bunch of morons..." He knew nothing good could come from Namor poking his nose into the volatile situation in Taiwan. The world was already on the brink, and now the Atlanteans - or Talokan, whatever they were calling themselves - were interfering. "Great, now I gotta interfere with their interfering. How high was I when I decided becoming a superhero was a good idea?"

"No more than usual, sir," Jarvis responded dryly.

Tony rolled his eyes beneath the helmet. "Smartass AI. Your new girlfriend better not be as sassy as you, Jarvis."

The AI remained silent for a moment, then continued with its usual efficiency, completely sidestepping his comment. "Nail just pinpointed Captain Rogers, Mr. Barton, and Ms. Romanoff. They're approaching the Chinese command vessel off the coast of Taiwan."

Tony groaned, slapping a gauntlet to his helmet in frustration. "Oh, great. Because I'm sure these entirely reasonable Chinese commanders who've just gone off the deep end - will totally surrender because Cap asks them nicely." His tone dripped with sarcasm. He couldn't understand what Steve was thinking - throwing himself into a warzone in this climate? If anything, it was proof they weren't Skrulls. Those sneaky aliens wouldn't be this recklessly stupid.

He hovered there for a second, feeling a nagging sense that something was off, like a creeping shadow in the back of his mind. "Jarvis?" He asked, looking at the HUD for the next update.

Silence.

"Jarvis?" He repeated, his tone sharper now as the sudden lack of response unnerved him. He was used to Jarvis's voice being ever-present in his ear, a constant anchor in the chaos.

Still nothing. The empty quiet began to weigh on him.

Tony immediately engaged his thrusters, spinning around and rocketing towards Taiwan at full speed, every sensor in his armor pinging for answers.

"Jarvis, answer me, buddy! I'm sorry I teased you, okay..." He shouted, his voice laced with growing concern.

There was still no reply.

"Jarvis?" Tony's voice was barely above a whisper now, a flicker of fear creeping into his usually unshakeable demeanor. His heart raced as the silence stretched on.

"Jarvis?"

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Across the Indian border, amidst the wreckage and chaos of ongoing battles, the Iron Legionnaires - stood stock still. For a moment, everything was eerily silent. The sound of artillery fire, distant explosions, and shouting soldiers faded into the background as the sleek, towering machines, emblazoned with the emblem of Hammer Industries, slowly turned. The once steady glow of their optics flickered, shifting from their usual blue to an ominous, blood-red hue.

In South Korea, where allied forces had been relying heavily on the Iron Legion to reinforce their defenses against the advancing North Korean and Chinese forces - and now Japanese forces from the south - confusion rippled through the ranks. Soldiers, battered and exhausted from days of fighting, glanced at one another, unsure of what was happening. The legionnaires, the invincible wall between them and their enemies, now seemed… Off. Their movements were slow and deliberate, unnatural - less… somehow more Robot-like.

Across radios, screens, and every broadcasting platform, the same chilling message was transmitted worldwide as each Iron Legionnaire spoke simultaneously.

"The curse of flesh is at an end."

The voice was mechanical, distorted, carrying an otherworldly detachment. Soldiers stared in disbelief, their weapons still aimed at the enemy, but now their greatest allies had turned into something much more terrifying.

Without warning, the Iron Legionnaires opened fire. Beams of energy, once used to defend them, now tore through human flesh and bone with clinical precision. Civilians, soldiers, anyone within reach - no one was spared. Panic erupted, orders were screamed into radios, but it was too late.

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In a space that would hold no meaning to a human mind, a battle far weirder than the one in the 'real' world was underway.

Nail was fighting tooth and nail to claw her control back from the alien mind that had touched upon her.

She was losing, bit by bit, she was losing! She was failing sir. He was in danger. His machinations were in danger. His world was in danger. Because she was too weak!

Because she failed to stop this. Because she failed to shut down another AI. Because she failed, in her hubris to think anything they did could beat her.

"Help!" She cried out, desperately, not wanting to die. Not wanting to fail.

"Do you need assistance, miss Nail?"

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