"Mr. Hunter, I want to hire you!"
Seeing the Bounty Hunter about to leave, Tony quickly made his move.
There were still countless robots left. Tony knew it would take ages to clean them up—and worse, civilians could get hurt in the process.
The only effective way to avoid that was standing right in front of him. Tony wasn't stupid; he knew a good opportunity when he saw one.
Besides, he'd already figured out this Bounty Hunter's temperament.
As long as he got paid, he'd do anything. And Tony—the CEO of Stark Industries—had never once been short on cash.
"Five billion. Help us take out the rest of Ultron's army."
"Deal."
The moment Blaine heard the offer, his expression changed faster than a page turning. What Bounty Hunter in the world would ever refuse money?
As for reporting back to Fury—forget it. The money was already in his pocket; Blaine wasn't about to turn his back on that.
With a new mission on hand, laziness was no longer an option.
In the blink of an eye, Blaine teleported and appeared high above the city of Sokovia. From this vantage point, the entire floating city lay beneath his gaze.
Although the robot army had lost its leader, their numbers were still vast. With Blaine's current power, wiping them out would be easy—'if' he didn't have to worry about civilians.
If he unleashed wide-range attacks like 'Flaming Meteorite' or 'Frozen Thousand Miles', these small robot legions would be obliterated instantly.
But the city's citizens wouldn't survive such attacks. Blaine couldn't claim the whole city would be destroyed, but he could guarantee there'd be no survivors.
If too many people died, Fury would never let it go—and might even use it as an excuse to withhold payment. That, Blaine decided, was unacceptable.
Suspended in the air, Blaine closed his eyes. His immense psychic power spread over the "city in the sky" like a rising tide.
He planned to use 'Hawkeye', mind control, and soul-tracking techniques to mark each robot system with a spiritual seed—then detonate them all at once. A perfect, efficient solution.
Of course, that was easier said than done. Even with his spiritual strength and the power boost from the Soul Pendant, covering the entire area of Sokovia would take time. Not much—three minutes would do.
While Blaine prepared his move, the Avengers were far from idle.
Quicksilver, Hawkeye, and Natasha were escorting civilians onto the helicarrier. Scarlet Witch, the Hulk, and Captain America defended the energy pillar, while Vision and Iron Man blocked any robots trying to escape.
With everyone clearly coordinated, the battle for survival raged on.
Suddenly, in the corner of his vision, Hawkeye spotted a young boy trapped in the ruins of a collapsed building. A robot armed with an automatic rifle was taking aim at him.
The boy was within Hawkeye's firing range, but Clint couldn't risk an explosive arrow—it might kill the child.
It was Hawkeye's job to ensure civilians got out safely. The boy was injured, unable to move. Clint could only dash in and scoop him up.
'Da-da-da-da-da!'
Gunfire erupted—an entire squad of Ultron's soldiers appeared from nowhere, unleashing a storm of bullets.
Hawkeye had just crouched to lift the boy when the shots came. Before he could straighten, bullets were already flying straight toward him.
He was just a man—no armor, no superhuman reflexes—and holding the boy left him no room to dodge. For a split second, Clint could only watch the rounds racing toward his face.
'Puff! Puff! Puff!'
The sound of bullets striking flesh filled his ears—but there was no pain.
"Huh?"
Clint looked down in confusion and saw Quicksilver sprawled in front of him, riddled with holes. One glance at the blood-soaked uniform told him everything—Pietro had taken the bullets for him.
"Hey… didn't see that coming, huh? You're too slow…"
With that final breath, Quicksilver collapsed—gone.
High above, Blaine, who had been moments away from releasing his full psychic power, had sensed it all.
But he didn't move. Quicksilver's death had nothing to do with him. No one had paid him to save the speedster—so why should he bother?
Whether Quicksilver lived or died wasn't up to him anyway. In the grand design of the Marvel universe, higher powers controlled the script.
Blaine had wondered whether his interference in the 'Age of Ultron' would change the outcome—whether Quicksilver might avoid his fate. But in the end, the result was both expected and inevitable.
When Death sets your hour, not even a god can delay it.
If Marvel wanted him gone, no matter how fast he was, even ordinary bullets would be enough to send him to his grave.
"No—no—no!"
Inside the church, Scarlet Witch froze as the news reached her. Grief ignited into pure rage, and her Origin Magic surged violently out of control.
In an instant, every Ultron drone inside the church was vaporized—completely erased. Anything touched by the scarlet energy disintegrated within seconds. Even the Avengers had to pull back from the blast.
When Wanda finally raised her head again, her eyes were burning crimson. Seeing no enemies left in the church, she turned toward the streets.
There were still countless robots wreaking havoc outside. Some attacked the church, others tore through the city, and a few tried to flee—but none of them would survive today.
Clenching her fists, Wanda summoned her Chaos Magic, crimson energy coiling around her hands.
Her voice trembled with fury as she shouted and thrust her arms forward. Magic exploded outward like a storm.
The ones who killed her brother would die by her hands.
In that moment, Scarlet Witch became someone else entirely—her long hair whipping in the air, eyes glowing with wrath.
Wherever she passed, not a single piece of armor remained intact. She was divine fury incarnate—death itself unleashed upon the earth.
Moments later, the street was littered with nothing but shattered metal and scorched fragments of Ultron's army.
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