The moment the scientist’s smug words left his mouth, Steve Rogers reacted. No hesitation. No drawn-out speeches. Just a clenched fist and a devastating right hook.

CRACK.

The sound of impact echoed through the sterile lab as the doctor’s body twisted mid-air before crashing hard onto the floor, his glasses flying off, shattering as they hit the ground. He was out cold before he even hit the floor.

As the dust settled from the moment, Steve reached down, pulling a set of handcuffs from a pouch in his darker, more tactical uniform, its matte navy-blue and black tones giving him a more somber, battlefield-ready appearance. His jaw was set like stone as he crouched, securing the cuffs onto the unconscious doctor’s wrists.

His voice was ice.

"Se vis pacem para bellum, Doctor. I'm a man of peace, not war. But war... that is what you asked for."

Tony Stark, still standing a few feet away, smirked behind his helmet, despite the situation escalating.

"Nice one, Cap. How very John Wick of you."

The levity was short-lived. Suddenly, the walls themselves came alive—the humanoid robots crawled like spiders, their mechanical limbs scraping against the metal infrastructure of the lab. Sickly green energy glowed from the cores embedded in their chests, illuminating the dimly lit corridor as they moved with eerie, unnatural fluidity. They weren’t just programmed machines. They were something else.

Steve barely had time to shout orders before the first wave struck.

"Tony, can you hack them?"

Iron Man had already raised his gauntlets, repulsors charged, as he prepared for the onslaught. The first of the grotesque, brain-wired constructs lunged at him with clawed hands, but he blasted it mid-air, sending it flying back into a row of computer terminals.

"I'm trying... Five seconds." Tony said as he dodged another attack, his HUD running calculations at lightning speed.

Across the room, Sharon Carter had already drawn her pistols, her expression grim but focused.

"Sharon, get the exits. Don’t let the scientists escape."

"On it, Steve."

She moved with the deadly precision of a SHIELD agent, weaving through the chaos toward the nearest corridor. A scientist was mid-sprint, trying to flee, but Sharon’s boot connected hard with his ribs, sending him crashing into the metal frame of the exit door. She spun, training her pistol on another scientist just as he reached for an emergency alarm.

"Try it. I dare you." Her voice was cold, sharp.

The scientist froze.

"Janet, can you take down their computers?"

A miniature-sized Wasp zipped overhead, dodging laser fire as she flitted between control panels.

"On it, Cap," she said over comms, shrinking even further to avoid a robotic hand that tried to swat her like an insect. She maneuvered between the circuitry of the mainframe, shoving an energy charge into the console.

Electric sparks exploded outward.

The room dimmed for a second, a few of the robots twitching violently, but they were still coming.

The horrors of the battlefield came all at once.

Captain America spun into motion. He vaulted over one of the crawling machines, ricocheting a shield throw straight into its glowing green "eye," causing it to detonate in a shower of sparks. Another machine leaped at him mid-air, but he pulled his shield in time, blocking a blast that rebounded straight into the face of two more enemies, sending them crashing into the walls.

Meanwhile, Sam Wilson landed beside Cap, his mechanical wings snapping back into place, the red and silver vibranium glinting under the emergency lighting.

"Cap, these things are fast—like, freakishly fast."

Sam’s dual pistols roared, sending precise armor-piercing rounds straight into the exposed joints of one of the machines. The robot collapsed mid-leap, its legs severed, but it kept crawling, reaching out for him like some nightmarish thing.

Sam stomped his boot onto its head, crushing the delicate brain-like core.

"I can't hack them."

Iron Man’s voice came over the comms, frustrated but still calculating.

"They're using the brains as processors. The rest is just simple circuit work. I'd have to get to the main console."

Steve clenched his jaw.

"Can you do it?"

"It’ll take longer."

He could hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice. The scientist’s words replayed in his mind. They had captured people. Real people. And now, their minds were trapped inside these mechanical husks. Steve hated everything about this.

"Jesus, this is horrifying." Sam said his voice disgusted by the brains pulsing inside the broken machines.

Sam had stopped for a brief second, his eyes scanning the battlefield. They weren’t just fighting machines. These things might have been people once.

"It's inhumane." Cap added.

Another robotic soldier lunged at him, green energy crackling in its fingertips. Sam sidestepped and sliced its leg off with his wings, the precision of his flight harness allowing him to move like a ghost between the chaos.

"What should we do?"

Janet’s voice came in urgently.

Steve made his decision.

"We can’t kill them. If there’s even a chance they have consciousness, we would be killing them."

Tony Stark had already been blasting apart several of the robots with precise repulsor shots, but at Steve’s words, he paused, adjusting his trajectory.

"Be mindful, Tony."

Tony exhaled sharply inside his helmet, reluctantly modulating his blasts. He fired at non-lethal points, disabling legs, arms, and power sources without destroying the brain cores.

His voice was tense.

"Cap, I think these people are already dead."

Steve’s expression darkened.

"I won’t kill a single living thing until we find out if there’s a chance to save them."

Tony’s HUD flashed red, alerting him to a dozen new hostiles incoming from a secondary hallway.

"Cap—"

"This is not an argument, Stark. It’s an order."

The silence in the comms lasted only half a second.

"Understood, Cap."

Tony fired two precise EMP blasts, sending three more constructs into shutdown mode without destroying them.

"Do it, Stark. Van Dyne, I need you with us."

Janet reappeared, growing in size mid-air, her once tiny form suddenly expanding to giant proportions. She reached out with massive hands, yanking two of the machines straight off the walls like fruit from a tree, slamming them into the ground.

The impact left craters.

She was now the largest thing in the room, and the robots seemed to register it immediately.

Several swarmed her, clambering up her body like ants on a giant, clawing and digging into her armor plating.

"Wilson, go to Van Dyne!"

Sam hesitated briefly—he had been covering Cap’s back. But one look at Janet struggling was enough.

"But you, Cap?"

Steve deflected two more energy blasts, knocking down another enemy with a well-placed shield bash.

"I'll be fine. Do it."

Sam turned, activating his wing thrusters, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Wilco, sir."

With the battlefield now split into three chaotic fronts, the Avengers fought on.

Captain America didn’t hesitate. His body was a blur of movement, a perfect storm of speed and strength as he vaulted over the robotic monstrosities, his shield slamming into their torsos with the force of a battering ram. He wasn’t killing them—not yet, not when he wasn’t sure if there was still something human left inside. But he was dismantling them, tearing off arms, breaking legs, ensuring they couldn’t fight back without completely destroying what remained of their forms.

With a brutal efficiency honed over decades of battle, he twisted mid-air, catching a robot by its wrist before using his own momentum to rip its limb clean off. Sparks and hydraulic fluid sprayed from the exposed joint. Another enemy lunged, its grotesque metal fingers clawing for his face, but Steve ducked, slamming his shield upward into its head with enough force to send it flying back into its mechanical brethren. He slid low, boots skimming across the cold floor, kicking out the legs of another before rising with the precision of a trained fighter, catching another enemy’s swinging arm and tearing it away in one fluid motion.

If anyone had ever doubted that the so-called man out of time could still outfight the best of today’s special forces, they would’ve been proven dead wrong in this moment.

And still, they just kept coming.

"How many of these damn things are there?" Wasp’s voice crackled through the comms, her massive form swiping at the robotic swarm clambering over her. Even at her towering size, they were like insects, crawling up her arms and legs, their clawed hands leaving deep gouges in her armor.

"Too many." Captain America’s voice was clipped, his breath measured even as he fought.

Falcon was cutting through them like a red-and-silver blur, his wings slicing through metal with razor precision. He twisted mid-air, a combat knife flashing in his grip as he severed the wiring of one machine’s head. It convulsed violently before collapsing.

"If these are criminals, they must have gotten an entire federal prison out of people," Sam muttered. He wasn’t out of breath—he was just angry.

"We’ll shut down this facility."

Steve was already moving before he finished the sentence. He caught sight of Sharon Carter out of the corner of his eye, surrounded by a small battalion of these perverse mechanical husks. Her pistols flashed as she took precise shots, each bullet aimed at non-lethal yet debilitating points—joints, servos, critical wiring. She wasn’t wasting a single round.

Still, she was getting overwhelmed.

Before she could be fully swallowed by the horde, Steve propelled himself forward. He launched his shield ahead of him like a missile—it slammed into the torso of the nearest robot, sending it flying back into the others, knocking them down like dominos. Sharon didn’t even flinch as the vibranium disc spun back to Steve’s waiting hand.

"Thanks, Steve."

It was just two words. Simple. Efficient.

But Steve caught the smallest flicker of a smile, barely there, almost imperceptible—but it was there.

"Carter, is there anyone else in the facility?"

Sharon immediately tapped her earpiece, switching to the SHIELD emergency frequency. Her voice was sharp, commanding. "Come in, this is Agent Carter to all local SHIELD operatives, do you copy?"

There was a brief moment of static before a voice came through, urgent and strained.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"CARTER, THIS IS MARSHALL. WE ARE PINNED DOWN IN THE SECOND LEVEL. WE NEED IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE."

Steve’s jaw tightened.

"Understood, Marshall, we're moving over."

"Godspeed."

"Carter out."

She turned to Steve, her expression deadly serious. "Cap, we need to go. There are agents in the second floor."

Steve took stock of the battlefield in seconds. Wasp had just shrunk down, zipping through the chaos, firing off bio-electric stings that disabled the nearest threats. Sam had taken to the skies again, cutting a clean arc through the battle, his weapons shifting to precision strikes instead of kill shots. Tony had already blasted through a small pile of decommissioned machines, his armor’s systems whirring as he worked to hack into the facility’s mainframe.

They needed to split up.

"Van Dyne, Wilson, stay here and try to turn these things off."

"Understood, Cap," Wasp responded, kicking another robot down before disappearing into the air.

Sam hovered briefly, his wings adjusting for stability. "Steve—"

"It's an order, son." Steve’s tone left no room for debate.

Sam hesitated for only half a second before nodding.

"Got it."

With that settled, Steve turned on his heel. He and Sharon were already moving before another word was spoken.

"Sharon, with me. Let’s save your men."

Together, they disappeared into the corridors, the sounds of battle fading behind them. The mission wasn’t over yet.

The air in the corridor was thick with the scent of gunpowder and ozone, a testament to the sheer volume of ammunition being unloaded. The rhythmic crack of machine-gun fire echoed through the halls as the SHIELD agents fought back against the tide of robotic husks. Muzzle flashes strobed in the dim light, illuminating grim faces set with determination and fear.

Captain America and Sharon Carter moved fast, weaving between the battered remains of combatants, both human and machine. The moment Steve spotted the entrenched SHIELD agents, he barked out the order.

“HOLD FIRE!”

A pause. The gunfire didn’t stop immediately, but hesitation flickered through the ranks. One of the senior agents—a man in his late thirties, with a cut jawline and a battle-hardened presence—turned to face him.

“Cap?”

Steve stepped forward, lowering his shield slightly in a gesture of authority but not relaxation. His blue eyes locked onto the agent. “Who are you, son?”

“Agent Myers, sir. I’m senior field commander in this op.”

“Alright, Agent Myers. Tell your men to hold fire. No more headshots—go for the limbs. These things still might be people.”

Myers hesitated. His hands curled into fists. “Sir, I… I’m afraid they’re long gone.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Steve said, his tone steady but unwavering. “Not until we’re absolutely sure.”

The silence stretched for a full two seconds. A heartbeat. A decision. Then—

“Understood, sir.”

Myers turned, barking at his men. “Focus on the limbs!”

A younger agent, Briggs, visibly confused, looked up from his reloading. “What? Why? We need to—”

“It’s a damn order, Briggs. Do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, Agent. I’ll put the word out across the comms.”

Myers gave him a tight nod. “Thank you, sir.”

There was a momentary lull, as if the battle itself paused for this decision to take hold. Then a robotic shriek echoed down the corridor—another wave was coming.

“Hold the fort here,” Steve ordered. “We’re heading down below.”

Myers exhaled, then squared his shoulders. “Alright, but things are awful down there, sir. It’s like a slaughterhouse.”

“Thankfully, Captain America is here,” Sharon said, her voice edged with just enough dry humor to lighten the moment, if only barely.

Steve didn’t crack a smile. “Let’s move.”

As they advanced, the halls became narrower, the lighting flickering from the structural damage sustained in the battle. Sparks burst from broken panels, casting jagged shadows against the walls.

More SHIELD agents were pinned down by enemy forces further in the corridor. They fought in controlled bursts, keeping the machines at bay, but it was clear they were struggling.

Without hesitation, Steve surged forward. Sharon was right beside him, moving with practiced efficiency, her dual Glocks raised. Her shots were surgical, each bullet finding its way through the slits in the robots’ armor. She didn’t waste a single round.

Steve noticed. “You got better with those pistols, Sharon.”

She didn’t even pause as she reloaded in one smooth motion. “These puppies? These are Bella and Edward.”

Steve frowned slightly. “I think I’ve heard those names before.”

Sharon smirked, ducking behind cover and popping off another shot. “I hope you didn’t.”

Steve let out a low breath. “Let’s move on.”

Ahead of them, a stairwell led deeper into the facility, the metal steps illuminated by dim red emergency lights. Smoke curled up from somewhere below, mingling with the distant screams of metal grinding against metal.

Without missing a beat, Steve vaulted over the railing. He twisted mid-air, one hand catching onto a pipe to slow his descent before landing with barely a sound.

Sharon leaned over the railing, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “I’m not a super soldier, remember?”

Steve was already moving. “Lives won’t wait, Sharon.”

She muttered something under her breath but followed, taking the stairs three at a time.

The lower level was a mess of blood and steel.

Three SHIELD agents lay sprawled against a thick blast door, their bodies torn apart, their tactical gear shredded like paper. The metallic stench of iron was overpowering, but what made it worse was the precision of the wounds—these weren’t mindless killings. They were surgical.

Steve immediately knelt, pressing his fingers to the first agent’s neck. Nothing.

He exhaled sharply, then reached out to close their eyelids, whispering something under his breath.

Then—movement.

Steve barely had time to react before three of the cybernetic husks vaulted over the debris, moving unnaturally fast, their clawed hands reaching for him.

His instincts took over.

The first lunged, but Steve sidestepped, catching it mid-motion and tearing a hole in its arm with his bare hands. Sparks and tubing burst free like blood vessels. The second came immediately after, but Steve ripped the first robot’s severed arm from its socket and swung it like a club, slamming the metal limb against the second attacker’s head so hard it dented inward.

The third, however, was smarter. It had waited, tracking Steve’s movements before launching itself onto his back, its reinforced fingers clawing at his face, reaching for his eyes.

A gunshot cracked through the air.

The third machine jerked violently, its head exploding in a shower of mechanical shards and circuitry before it went still.

Steve turned, breath heaving.

Sharon stood there, her Glock, Bella, still raised, smoke curling from the muzzle.

She lowered it, cocking an eyebrow. “Sorry, Steve. To make an omelet—”

Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face unreadable. “Not all blood spilled is senseless.” He exhaled sharply, picking up his shield. “Let’s move.”

They didn’t hesitate. There were lives to save.

The air was thick with the smell of burnt ozone and scorched metal, the scent of war waged in a laboratory instead of a battlefield. The SHIELD soldiers were hunkered down behind whatever cover they could find—broken machinery, overturned crates, scorched remnants of once-sterile workstations. Energy blasts screamed through the air, hammering against walls, sending sparks and shrapnel flying.

One of the soldiers groaned, his face contorted in pain as blood oozed from a deep wound in his abdomen, his tactical suit dark with it. Sharon and Steve dove for cover beside him, their backs pressed against the makeshift barricade.

"Sharon, assistance, now!" Steve barked.

Sharon was already moving, reaching behind her plate carrier and unfastening her med-kit pouch. Her fingers moved with precision, pressing down on the wound, working quickly to stem the bleeding. The wounded soldier gritted his teeth, a strangled groan escaping him as she applied pressure.

The only other agent still holding ground was firing bursts from an energy MG, the light from the weapon flashing violently against his grim face.

Steve turned to him. "Marshall?"

The agent gave a grim shake of his head, nodding toward the center of the circular room. "No, sir. That’s Marshall."

Steve followed his gaze. His breath caught for a fraction of a second.

In the middle of the room, sprawled lifeless, was a headless corpse—a SHIELD uniform torn, blood pooling across the sterile floor.

Steve’s jaw clenched. His grip on his shield tightened.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.

The surviving agent looked at him, his expression barely concealing the weight of everything that had just happened. He hesitated, then scooted over slightly.

"Scoot over, soldier," Steve commanded.

"Yes, sir."

The agent relinquished the energy MG, his hands shaking slightly as he passed it to Captain America. Without hesitation, Steve slung his shield onto his back and took the heavy weapon into his grasp.

His eyes scanned the battlefield. Assess. Plan. Execute. He wasn't going for lethal shots. Not yet. Not until he was absolutely certain.

Then, he let loose.

The energy MG roared to life, the concussive blasts hammering through the air, lighting up the chamber in flashes of blue and orange. Steve’s aim was surgical—he didn't target the torsos or heads of the machines, but their legs, their arms. He tore them apart piece by piece, forcing them to crawl, neutralizing without fully destroying.

The sound of the MG hummed down into silence.

For a moment, only the ragged breathing of the wounded soldiers filled the room.

"Sharon," Steve ordered, voice firm. "We need Medvac. Immediately. Call Fury."

Sharon was already pulling out her communicator, her fingers moving quickly over the encrypted frequency.

Then—a sound.

A deep metallic thud, shaking the very foundation of the underground chamber.

Steve barely had time to react before a vault door came flying through the air.

"DOWN!" he bellowed, shoving the wounded soldier and Sharon into cover, his shield snapping up as the massive metal slab slammed into the wall behind them, embedding itself into solid concrete.

Silence. A sharp ringing in the air. Then—the ground trembled.

A behemoth stepped forward.

Emerging from the gaping hole where the vault door once stood, it loomed. Its massive frame was cast in shadows, its towering figure just barely scraping the ceiling. The glow of its internal energy core pulsated within its torso, but the most unnerving part?

Its face.

Not a standard robotic visage.

Not a cold, steel construct.

But a skull.

A metallic skull, its surface stitched with grotesque fleshy bits, like remnants of something that had once been human. The eyes—if they could be called that—glowed a sickly red, soulless, artificial, but deeply unsettling.

Its left arm was a cannon, glowing with volatile energy.

Its right arm was a massive steel claw, servos grinding as it clenched and unclenched.

And its legs…

There were none.

Instead, it rolled forward on heavy tank treads, grinding against the blood-streaked floor, slow, deliberate, an apex predator that knew it didn’t need to rush.

It stopped, looming over the battlefield, casting its ominous shadow over Steve, Sharon, and the wounded SHIELD soldiers.

Then, its voice rang out, a harsh, digitized growl laced with something almost… organic beneath it.

“IDENTIFYING HOSTILES… MUTAGENIC SIGNATURE DETECTED… ENHANCED COMBATANTS CONFIRMED… INITIATING TERMINATION SEQUENCE.”

Steve exhaled sharply, adjusting his grip on his shield.

"Everyone stay behind me." Captain America said.

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of scorched metal, the battlefield a chaotic symphony of crackling energy and grinding machinery. Captain America’s grip tightened on the energy MG as he let out another controlled burst, the searing blue bolts hammering against the iron behemoth’s reinforced plating. The shots barely left dents, but he wasn’t aiming to destroy it yet—only to draw its fire.

He glanced back toward Sharon, voice sharp over the chaos.

"Is he stabilized?"

Sharon, crouched low behind cover, pressed a final clotting agent onto the wounded agent’s abdomen, sealing the worst of the bleeding before adjusting her grip on her sidearm. Sweat beaded at her temple, but her hands were steady.

"Yes, sir."

"Move to the MG," Steve ordered. "I'll drag its attention away."

Sharon didn't hesitate. "Got it." She scrambled low and fast, keeping her head down as she moved toward the mounted heavy machine gun the fallen SHIELD agents had used in their last stand. The weapon was still operational—bullets spilling from its feed, the barrel still hot from suppressing fire. It was their best bet for concentrated firepower.

Steve vaulted over his cover, his powerful legs launching him forward in a single fluid motion. The moment his boots hit the ground, he yanked his shield from his back and braced it against his chest, a moving wall of vibranium against the monstrous firepower now hammering toward him.

The massive iron behemoth roared, its cannon-arm unleashing a storm of plasma rounds, the sheer force of them searing the air around him. Steve zig-zagged, weaving between the incoming blasts, his speed and instincts razor-sharp, anticipating every strike before it landed. The concussive force of the shots still rattled his bones, but he never faltered.

From behind, Sharon opened fire with the MG, a steady stream of energy rounds slamming into the machine’s weaponized limb, focusing on its energy cannon to disrupt its firing system. Sparks flew from the impact points, but the monster still advanced, undeterred.

Steve hit the ground into a slide, his shield angled just right to deflect the next blast, sending the redirected energy straight back into the machine’s shoulder joint. The impact was enough to cause a momentary stutter in its targeting systems.

That was all he needed.

In one swift motion, Cap reached to his belt and drew his adamantium combat knife.

Steve rolled to the side and lunged—his blade plunging deep into the exposed joints near the machine’s treads. He twisted the blade sharply, severing a key set of circuits, causing the machine to spasm violently. Its treads locked up, jerking forward erratically, its sensors struggling to recalibrate.

Wasting no time, Cap climbed onto the machine, straddling it like a bull rider, gripping onto whatever plating he could as it began to thrash beneath him.

A heavy metal fist swung upward, aiming to crush him like an insect—

—but Steve ducked at the last second, using the momentum of the swing to maneuver around the machine’s back, driving his knife deep into its reinforced spine-like support system.

Sparks exploded from the gash he had just created.

Using his incredible strength, he tore open a larger gap in the plating, exposing the tangle of wires and circuits beneath.

The machine roared in a distorted, synthetic screech as Steve reached inside, grabbing a handful of cables and ripping them free with a forceful jerk.

The machine spun wildly, its cannon arm firing erratically—energy beams tearing into the walls, obliterating half of the room as it struggled to maintain control.

Steve held on tightly, gripping the exposed machinery near its neck, just as a secondary weapon unfurled from its other arm—a high-energy laser cannon glowing bright.

It turned toward the battlefield.

It was about to unleash devastation on Sharon and the other agents.

Steve acted instinctively.

Using the exposed wires as leverage, he reached higher, toward the thing’s head, and yanked hard.

With a metallic screech, the machine’s entire skull-like faceplate tore free, revealing… something grotesque beneath.

Steve froze.

His stomach dropped as he looked inside.

At first, it was just wires. Circuits. Tech.

But then—he saw it.

A brain.

Encased inside a pulsating, cybernetic core. Still alive.

And then—it spoke.

A horrifying, ragged voice, a distorted plea, one that cut deeper than any wound ever could.

"KILL ME."

Steve’s heart clenched.

He had seen this before. He had heard it before. But never here. Never at home.

This wasn’t just AIM’s doing. This wasn’t just another faceless villain using tech to terrorize the world.

This was something more sinister.

The voice gurgled, more desperate now.

"PLEASE. KILL ME."

His grip tightened around the exposed circuitry.

"We can help you, son." Steve said, voice steady. "Just hold on—"

"KILL ME. JUST KILL ME."

Steve’s expression darkened. His breath came slow. Heavy. He clenched his jaw.

He looked at the grenade on his belt.

The man—the thing inside—begged again.

"ARE YOU SURE?" Steve asked, his voice pained.

"KILL ME!"

There was no hesitation in its words.

Steve took the grenade.

His fingers shook only slightly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you." His voice was heavy with regret.

And then—he shoved the grenade inside.

"GRENADE! FIND COVER!" Steve bellowed, diving behind his shield as the others did the same.

The explosion was deafening, a shockwave ripping through the chamber, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.

The mechanical screeching of the abomination came to an abrupt halt.

When the smoke cleared, the machine was gone. What remained of its monstrous form lay in ruined, twisted pieces.

Silence.

"WE DID IT!" one of the recruits shouted, his voice shaky but triumphant.

Then—another sound.

A sickening metal-on-metal scraping.

Steve turned sharply.

From the walls—more crawling.

Robotic limbs tearing through concrete, more of them emerging from hidden access points. Hundreds of them.

They swarmed forward, ready to continue the slaughter.

Steve raised his shield.

Sharon readied her pistols.

The agents steeled themselves for another fight.

Then—

BZZT.

One by one—the green lights in the machines' cores flickered.

Then died.

Their mechanical bodies seized up, collapsing like lifeless puppets—all at once, the monstrous wave of machines fell silent.

Steve exhaled sharply, his heart still pounding.

Then, Iron Man’s voice crackled over the comms.

"Cap, I got it. The machines are down."

The battle was over.

But the horror remained.