One hour ago.
"Ben, how long until the shield is active?!"
Inside the repurposed S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite, Tony Stark's voice was tight with anxiety, his face beaded with sweat. He had spotted the approaching Chitauri fleet a full hour ago—an overwhelming torrent of organic leviathans moving like a migratory tide through the sea of stars. There were dozens of the colossal beasts, the largest of which was several kilometers long, a monster that could swallow all three H.A.M.M.E.R. Helicarriers without a second thought.
And the planetary defense shield was still not ready.
"I'm making the final adjustments now," Ben's voice, filtered through Brainstorm's high-pitched cadence, replied calmly.
This final step should have been simple, but he had never dreamed that Loki would vanish. Safely harnessing the Tesseract's power before it was fully awakened was a task of incredible delicacy. As an Asgardian who had possessed the Tesseract for centuries, Loki's understanding of the artifact far surpassed that of anyone on Earth. Ben's plan had relied on him to coax the energy from the cube, to act as a regulator. But now he was gone, his communicator silent, and Ben was left to improvise a solution on his own.
"I knew that reindeer-games-playing son of a bitch was unreliable," Tony cursed.
They were perched precariously at the edge of Earth's atmosphere. If they couldn't get the shield online before the Chitauri arrived, he and Ben would be the first, and likely last, line of defense. That was a minor problem. The far greater one was that the Chitauri armada would march straight into the planet's embrace. Once the battle began on land, the casualties would be catastrophic.
"Launch the armors," Ben commanded. "Engage them first. We have to keep the battle in space for as long as possible."
Tony nodded grimly. That was exactly what he was thinking.
Simultaneously, the Avengers on the ground were mobilizing. Each hero was fitted into a customized, space-worthy suit of armor, designed to get them from the carrier to the surface of a Chitauri Leviathan.
Norman Osborn placed a hand on Spider-Man's shoulder. "Once you're out there, we can't provide any support," he said, his voice heavy. "Your safety comes first, understand?"
"Don't worry, Mr. Osborn," Peter replied, knowing full well that Norman was speaking not to Spider-Man, but to the boy he had watched grow up.
Harry stood nearby, his face a mask of frustration. He wouldn't be joining them; his Green Goblin armor, for all its power, was not designed for the harsh environment of space.
Seeing that everyone was ready, Steve Rogers sealed the helmet of an Iron Guard suit. He raised his arms, his voice ringing with unshakable resolve. "Avengers, assemble!"
The back of the armor erupted with violent energy, the propulsion systems kicking in and launching him into the sky like a rocket. The other Avengers followed, a stream of light ascending into the heavens. Then, from the decks of the Helicarrier, thousands of armors ignited their thrusters in unison. The well-organized steel warriors of the Iron Guard formed a massive, gleaming torrent, surging toward the cosmic horrors that descended upon their world.
Above New York, the sky was filled with fire and light. This war was not being fought in the shadows. Norman had made the threat public, evacuating most of the city's population and placing the entire world on high alert. If the Chitauri breached the atmosphere, every nation on Earth was prepared to launch its missile arsenal—a desperate second line of defense.
At Primus Tower, Felicia and Mary Jane stood with their families, alongside a worried Ben Sr. and May. With the building's advanced security systems and the contingent of Iron Guard robots on site, it was one of the safest places on the planet. They weren't alone; Dr. Connors, Dr. Octavius, and Bruce Banner were also there with their loved ones.
Ben had lied to his aunt and uncle, telling them that he and Peter had been assigned to civilian positions within H.A.M.M.E.R., doing non-combat technical work. As a powerless civil servant, Ben mused from orbit, it would be perfectly reasonable for me to dispatch a few alien invaders, right?
In the cold abyss, the Chitauri Leviathans swam through the void. Aboard the flagship, a behemoth of flesh and stone, The Other stood tall. Like all his kind, he was a grotesque fusion of biology and mechanics, a cyborg lifeform built for conquest. Though he was deep within the creature's belly, he could see everything its children saw. The brains of the Leviathans were linked, transmitting a unified sensory feed directly to him.
He saw the blue planet glowing in the distance. It was beautiful.
The Other stretched out his gray-blue, charcoal-blackened hand toward the Earth, curling his fingers as if to crush the fragile marble in his palm. He would conquer this world. He would take it and lay it at the feet of his master.
"Take this world for me," his voice rasped, a command broadcast to every soldier in the fleet. "I will dedicate it to the glorious Thanos."
As he spoke, the Chitauri warriors stirred. They were hunched, skeletal beings, their faces gaunt and fleshless. They were the self-proclaimed immune system of the universe, a plague that sought to cleanse all civilization, all free will. In reality, they were simply beings who craved the primal release of war.
"Eliminate all disorder!" their collective hiss echoed through the fleet.
Hatchways opened along the flanks of the Leviathans, and countless Chitauri soldiers, mounted on personal flying skiffs, swarmed out. From a distance, they were a dark blue wave, a tsunami of death rolling across the starry sky.
The sight brought Venom's words back to Ben's mind: Locusts.
They truly were a swarm.
Tony, his own armor sealed and gleaming, was the first to charge. Knowing he would face an enemy in space, he had designed every suit in his new legion for the vacuum. As always, he rushed to the front line. Fortunately, he was not fighting alone. The Iron Legion armors he had been using to refit the satellites broke formation and flew to join him. On Ben's end, the Iron Guard surged forward under Eunice's flawless control.
But even combined, their numbers were pitifully small against the Chitauri horde.
Boom!
Sound could not travel in space, but the flash of explosions was blinding. Tony, leading his small squadron, was a lone swordsman charging an infinite army. He was instantly swallowed by the sheer mass of the Chitauri. This was not the Battle of New York from the movies, where the enemy was bottlenecked through a narrow portal. This was open space, the heart of the Chitauri battlefield, and their mothership was nowhere in sight.
Tony gave up on aiming entirely. The enemy was everywhere. He simply cranked his suit's firepower to maximum and unleashed a continuous, desperate barrage. Hitting something was a certainty.
"Jarvis, divert all non-essential power to shields!" he yelled, his armor shuddering under a hundred simultaneous impacts.
"Shields at maximum, sir," the AI replied calmly.
An energy barrier shimmered to life around Tony's suit, deflecting a storm of energy blasts. But it wouldn't hold forever. He was about to be overwhelmed. If his armor's life support failed, he would suffocate in a tomb of his own making.
From his throne, The Other saw the tiny, defiant spark resisting his tide. He swung his battle-axe, letting out a low, guttural roar that was transmitted as a psychic command. Instantly, the Chitauri warriors became even more frenzied, infused with the fanatical loyalty of an insect hive for its queen. They rushed Tony like madmen.
They were expendable, cannon fodder born and bred for the slaughter, and they knew it. They abandoned their weapons, choosing instead to tear at Tony's shield with their bare hands, their bodies burning away against the energy field. One ripped open a momentary gap, its arm incinerated in the process. Another squeezed through before the shield could restore itself.
Tony's sensors screamed, the proximity alerts a piercing wail inside his helmet. Hideous, skeletal faces pressed against his visor, their dead eyes staring in. He could almost smell the burning flesh.
"Anyone got a minute? Could use a little help over here!" he yelled into the comms.
At that moment, Peter's voice shot through the chaos. "Hold on, Mr. Stark! We're coming!"
A brilliant beam of light cut through the swarm. Steve, his shield held high, had arrived. The arc reactor in his suit's chest flared, unleashing a massive unibeam that vaporized a massive swath of Chitauri.
Like a drowning man finally breaking the surface, Tony struggled out of the gap in the swarm. He raised his head and looked toward Earth.
Thousands of steel warriors, a gleaming wall of red and gold, stood arrayed before him, a fortress against the coming darkness.
"We're here, Tony," Steve's voice said, calm and resolute, cutting through the static. "We won't let you fight this alone."