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Chapter 42: Shadows of Invincibility
Carter Farm, Montana – Morning
Ethan stands in the Carter family's golden fields, sunlight cascading over him like a cosmic forge. Seven days of basking in Earth's yellow sun have supercharged his Kryptonian cells—strength to split moons, speed to chase comets, senses that pierce galactic veils. He's invincible, the Last Son of Krypton, a solitary god. But Lily's warning burns in his mind: "A star lady's watching." Faora. Another Kryptonian. His heart races, dread eroding his godlike calm. He's not alone, and Faora's a predator, her claws poised to strike. If she's soaked in this sun, could she hurl planets? Outrun stars? His invincibility feels fragile, a shield against a supernova.
Jane Foster, sipping coffee on the porch with Thor, notices his distant stare.
"Ethan, you're quieter than a Montana winter. What's wrong?"
He forces a half-smile, cape fluttering in the breeze.
"Thought I was the last Kryptonian. Now there's her, and I'm wondering how many mountains she can break."
Thor, Mjolnir gleaming at his side, nods gravely.
"Faora's no mere warrior. Under this sun, she could rival gods."
Ethan's eyes trace the horizon, imagining Faora's fist shattering skies.
"That's what scares me. I'm her target."
Daniel Carter swings from the barn roof, webs glinting, aiming to patch a leak.
"Call me Spider-Farmer!" he boasts, only to tangle in his own web, crashing into a hay bale.
Rebecca, tending chickens, snorts.
"Stick to plows, hero. Leave the webs to Peter."
Ethan chuckles, but the humor fades—Faora's shadow looms too large.
He activates a memory crystal, linking to Jor-El's AI in the Martian Fortress.
Jor-El's hologram materializes, voice resonant.
"Faora, of Zod's elite, seeks the six Infinity Stones to resurrect Krypton, rewriting reality to restore her lost world—its cities, its people. Her Kryptonian physiology, like yours, amplifies under Earth's sun, potentially surpassing your power. The Kree, a militaristic empire from Hala, ally with her, craving her blood to transform their DNA, forging a race to dominate the galaxy."
Ethan's fists clench, dust rising under his grip.
"Her blood? What's the Kree's endgame?"
Jor-El's gaze is unyielding.
"Kryptonian DNA, solar-charged, grants unparalleled strength. The Kree, led by their Supreme Intelligence, have failed past DNA experiments—mutants too unstable, Skrull genes incompatible. Faora's blood is their key. They backed Malekith's Aether plot to destabilize rivals, trading resources for chaos, and now offer Faora tech to chase the Infinity Stones, expecting her blood in return."
---
New York – Same Time
Laura trains in Ethan's townhouse, her Kryptonian suit pulsing silver as she slices a reinforced dummy, sparks flying.
Lily watches, clutching a juice box, eyes wide.
"You're like a ninja knight!"
Laura rolls her eyes.
"Don't get mushy, kid."
Lily's eyes glow silver, precognition flaring.
"The star lady's sending a ship. It's big and shiny."
Laura smirks, sheathing her claws.
"Star lady sounds like a bad sci-fi flick."
Lily pouts, sipping her juice.
"Better than your claw-sharpening show!"
Laura laughs, texting Ethan:
"Kid's freaking out about a shiny ship and your star lady. You worried?"
Ethan replies:
"More than I want to admit. Stay sharp."
Peter Parker, as Spider-Man, swings through Manhattan's concrete canyons, tailing an Oscorp truck loaded with black-market tech. His spider-sense buzzes like a warning siren as he hacks its log, texting Ethan:
"Oscorp's cooking symbiote gear via Weapon X. No Faora vibes, but it's sketchy—Malekith's leftovers, maybe?"
Ethan responds:
"Good catch, Peter. Don't get goo on you."
Peter mutters, dodging a pigeon,
"Symbiotes and pigeons. New York's finest."
---
New York – Afternoon
Times Square explodes in pandemonium as Norman Osborn, Green Goblin, soars on his glider, hurling pumpkin bombs that erupt in fiery gouts, melting billboards. Oscorp drones, their hulls writhing with symbiote tendrils, spray lasers, hacking traffic systems to trap civilians. Osborn cackles,
"This city bows to me!"
Crowds scream, fleeing as symbiotes slither, corrupting screens with static.
The Avengers charge in, Ethan a red-blue streak slicing the sky, but worry gnaws—if Faora's this invincible, Osborn's just a warm-up.
The team counters:
Tony's repulsors vaporize drones, quipping,
"Norman, that glider's last season's tech! Upgrade already!"
Steve's shield deflects bombs, carving a path through symbiotes, barking,
"Form a perimeter—save the people!"
Laura's claws shred tendrils, snarling,
"I don't do city chaos or crazy green freaks."
Peter's webs snare drones, joking,
"Those bombs, Norman? Total fire hazard—OSHA's gonna fine you!"
Natasha's tasers fry symbiote circuits, her movements a blur.
Clint's arrows pierce drone cores, pinning symbiotes to walls.
Thor, still weakened, summons lightning, cracking the pavement, his roar defiant.
The Carters swing in, webs crisscrossing, Daniel webbing a drone, muttering,
"City fights beat plows any day."
Rebecca downs another, grumbling,
"I'm too old for this circus."
Ethan rockets into Osborn, slamming him into asphalt, the shockwave toppling a hot dog cart. Civilians cheer, phones flashing, but Ethan hesitates, scanning the clouds. Is Faora watching?
Osborn laughs, blood dripping.
"You're terrified, Superman. Weapon X forged me, but something worse is coming!"
Ethan binds him in steel girders, heart pounding—Faora's a predator, and he's prey.
---
Helicarrier – Evening
The Avengers regroup in the Helicarrier's war room, Osborn in SHIELD's deepest cell. Fury paces, eye narrowed.
"Oscorp's Weapon X is churning symbiote tech, no Faora link, but it's rooted in Malekith's old network—dark elf scraps turned corporate nightmare."
Ethan stands by a viewport, worry carved into his face.
"I'm stronger than ever—seven days in the sun, I could punch through stars—but Faora's Kryptonian. If she's been basking too, she's a predator, and I'm her mark."
Tony lounges, sipping coffee.
"So, you're the sun-charged MVP, and she's the rival ready to steal your trophy? Been there."
Ethan's jaw tightens, unamused.
"She's not stealing a trophy. She's hunting me."
Jor-El's hologram, projected via Ethan's crystal, expands:
"Malekith sought eternal darkness, wielding the Aether during the convergence to reshape reality, allying with symbiotes for destruction, Faora for her might, and Kree for tech. Symbiotes, born in a void older than stars, crave entropy, bonding with hosts to spread chaos—now Faora's enforcers and Oscorp's experiments. Faora hunts the Infinity Stones to restore Krypton, bending existence to revive its spires and bloodlines. The Kree seek her blood to reforge their race, their past DNA trials—mutant hybrids, Skrull grafts—failing. They offer ships and weapons, chasing the Stones' power."
Tony interrupts, smirking.
"Blue skin, green capes? Kree need a stylist, not super-blood."
Clint chuckles, spinning an arrow.
"Fury's got a form for alien invasions, right? I'm not signing it."
Laura crosses her arms.
"Faora's got gooey pets and blue aliens chasing cosmic jewelry? Terrific."
Peter raises a hand.
"So, we stop a super-Kryptonian with a Stone fetish how?"
Steve meets Ethan's gaze, steady.
"Together. She's not facing you alone."
---
Times Square – Night
A Kree ship decloaks above Times Square, its angular hull pulsing with emerald runes, symbiotes writhing in containment pods before retreating. News choppers buzz, cameras streaming globally as civilians gape.
A holographic Kree messenger, clad in ornate armor, his voice cold as space, projects across the square:
"Kryptonian, I speak for Faora. Surrender, or Earth faces annihilation. The Infinity Stones will be ours, and your world will burn."
Ethan floats before the ship, eyes blazing with heat vision's glow, but fear coils inside—if Faora's sun-charged, her power could eclipse his, a predator ready to strike.
The Avengers brace below:
Tony's suit hums, targeting systems locked;
Steve's shield gleams, stance unyielding;
Laura's claws glint, itching for a fight;
Peter's webs coil, whispering,
"That ship's bigger than my student loans!"
Natasha hisses,
"Zip it, Parker," her tasers ready.
Clint's bow aims,
Thor's Mjolnir crackles, and
The Carters stand poised, webs taut.
Ethan's voice cuts through, steel and defiance:
"Tell Faora Earth's not her playground. We're ready for her."
The hologram flickers out, the ship vanishing into the night sky, leaving a city buzzing with fear and defiance.
News anchors speculate wildly,
"Alien invasion or Superman's next fight?"
---
Carter Farm – Dawn
Ethan sits on the porch, confiding in Laura, voice low.
"I was the last Kryptonian, my world's only echo. Now Faora's here, maybe stronger, chasing Stones to bring Krypton back. She's a predator, and I'm in her crosshairs."
Laura's claws glint, her gaze fierce.
"You've got us, Ethan. She's not winning this hunt."
Daniel swings by, webbing a tractor to the barn.
"Fixed it with style!"
Rebecca, untangling her laundry from his stray webs, snaps,
"Great, now unweb my shirts, Spider-Farmer!"
Ethan manages a smile, but Lily tugs his cape, eyes glowing silver.
"Green fire's coming, and it burns cold."
Jor-El's hologram, summoned again, warns:
"Faora's Kryptonite may sap your strength, but your will is your shield."
Ethan nods, facing the Avengers, their silhouettes strong against the dawn.
"Faora's got her cosmic sequel, chasing Stones and power. Let's write the ending."
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