In the cold, silent theater of the cosmos, the war had begun.
With the thunderous arrival of Captain America and the gleaming tide of the Iron Guard, Tony was snatched from the jaws of the Chitauri swarm. The energy shield shimmering around his armor flickered, but the fresh scratches and scorch marks on the golden-red plating were impossible to miss.
"You alright, Tony?" Steve's voice crackled over the comms as he drove his armored fist through the skull of a Chitauri soldier. It was clear from his stiff movements that he was still unaccustomed to fighting encased in a ton of metal.
"You could have taken your time," Tony shot back, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Another minute and you could have scraped what was left of me off their windshields."
"Don't say that, Tony." Rhodey's familiar voice joined the conversation.
"Rhodey?" Tony recognized the voice of his best friend instantly, a note of indignation creeping into his tone. "What are you doing in one of Primus's suits?"
"Hey, don't blame me. Your old War Machine armor didn't exactly come with a deep-space life support system," Rhodey retorted helplessly.
Tony grunted. "Okay, my bad."
"Could you guys maybe chat after we're not being swarmed by an alien army?" Peter yelped, his voice strained. He was pinwheeling through a dense cloud of Chitauri, their energy rifles spitting a constant stream of violet plasma in his direction. For the first time in his life, he was beginning to think that witty banter during a fight might not be the best idea.
"You hear that, old-timer?" Tony quipped, his hands glowing as repulsors charged. "Don't keep the kid waiting!"
The next moment, he was a missile again, blasting headfirst back into the densest part of the Chitauri formation. The void lit up with a silent, strobing display of countless plasma blasts and repulsor beams. Spurred by his reckless courage, the other heroes charged forward, a tiny band against an endless ocean.
But even with their power, they were hopelessly outnumbered. Even if Steve Rogers could fight a hundred men at once, it was a drop in the bucket against a fleet of thousands. Fortunately, a battle of attrition was never his plan.
"Stick to the plan," Captain America commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. Then, like the tip of a spear, he plunged deep into the enemy ranks, vanishing into the surging sea of aliens like a stone tossed into the ocean.
Ten minutes later, a concussive blast blew a gaping hole in the fleshy, armored hide of a gargantuan Leviathan. Steve shot through the opening, the breach sealing behind him. Inside the cavernous, organic corridor, his armor hissed open. He stepped out, his fingers pressing the comm link in his ear.
"This is Steve Rogers. Infiltration successful."
Natasha's voice came through immediately. "Natasha, I'm in."
"T'Challa, infiltration successful."
"Wait, wait, wait, I've got a problem here—!" Peter's panicked voice shouted through the channel. "I've got a whole welcoming committee on my six—and I can't shoot webs out here—!" His frantic report was cut off by the muffled sound of a massive explosion, followed by a moment of static. Then, Peter's voice returned, breathless. "Spider-Man is in. Oh my god, I can finally take this thing off…"
"Who else is still outside?" Steve asked.
"Can't break through their lines, Cap!" Falcon reported, the sound of evasive maneuvers screaming in the background. He wasn't alone; Rhodey, Clint, and Tony were all still pinned down by overwhelming fire.
"I think I'm drawing at least thirty percent of their total firepower!" Tony yelled, his suit juking and weaving through a storm of plasma. "They will not leave me alone, dammit!"
"You are too flashy, Stark," T'Challa's regal voice observed coolly.
He was right. Ben's Iron Guard suits were painted in practical, dark colors. Tony's armor, however, was its signature, ostentatious golden-red. In the dark of space, it was as conspicuous as Steve's shield, a bullseye screaming for attention. The Chitauri, like enraged bulls seeing a red cape, were chasing him relentlessly.
"I'm coming to support you," Rhodey announced, abandoning his own attempt to infiltrate and banking hard to provide covering fire for his friend.
Inside the Leviathan, the scattered heroes began their separate missions. The gargantuan beast was still birthing warriors, with countless Chitauri pouring from launch bays to join the battle outside, completely oblivious to the cancer that now grew within their war machine.
Steve ran through the pulsating, biological passageways, a blur of red, white, and blue. Every enemy he encountered was dispatched with ruthless efficiency. Chitauri soldiers would round a corner, preparing to join the fray, only to see a circular shield ricocheting toward them like a bolt of lightning. In the confined spaces, it was devastating, clearing a path for Steve in seconds. His definition of stealth was simple: kill anyone who sees you.
"Eunice, let's get those schematics," he said into his comms. "Let's meet up in the main control room."
"Please wait," Eunice's calm, synthesized voice replied. "Analysis of the Leviathan's bio-architecture will be complete in ten seconds. 10… 9… 2… 1. Scan complete. Data imported. Forwarding optimal routes now."
A holographic projection of the whale-like creature appeared in each hero's helmet display, its internal structures laid bare. The pathways leading to the central command hub were clearly marked.
"Attention," Eunice added. "I am detecting an individual in the main control room with an astonishingly high life-energy signature."
Steve studied the route for a single moment, his enhanced mind committing it to memory. "A unique individual," he mused. "Sounds like we've found their leader."
Peter, meanwhile, was employing a much quieter approach. He crawled along the ceiling of a massive chamber, his form shifting and shimmering to match the grotesque patterns of the alien flesh around him. Several patrols of Chitauri soldiers marched directly beneath him, completely unaware of his presence. This wasn't just skill; it was technology. Dr. Connors, using his research into genetic mutation and species-specific abilities, had helped Ben develop a new suit for him. Derived from the mimicry of a chameleon, the bio-material suit could actively change its color and texture, granting Peter near-perfect camouflage in low-light conditions.
The easiest infiltration, however, belonged to T'Challa. He was a force of nature. Clad in his vibranium suit, he was effectively invincible, a silent black phantom tearing through the ship's corridors.
"Mr. T'Challa, your current trajectory is suboptimal," Eunice advised.
"I do not think so," he replied.
The provided route would have him navigate a maze of corridors and levels. T'Challa preferred a shortcut. He drove the claws of his gauntlets deep into the fleshy inner wall of the beast and, with a surge of power, tore a new doorway for himself.
"This is faster, do you not agree?"
Eunice was silent for a moment. "Rerouting. You will now arrive at the main control room ahead of the others."
"Then I shall be the one to greet our host," T'Challa declared.
Natasha, on the other hand, was heading in the opposite direction. Eunice had given her a different objective. "Scan results indicate a primary hatching chamber in the creature's ventral abdomen," the AI had explained. "A steady stream of Chitauri soldiers is being spawned from that location. It must be destroyed."
"I hate places that breed soldiers," Natasha muttered, her knives already in her hands.
The Other had noticed the fleas scurrying about inside his living ship. He wasn't sure how many there were, but he didn't care. If these mortals wished to deliver themselves to his feet, who was he to deny them? He even ordered his personal guard to stand down, to allow the intruders to come to him. His battle-axe was thirsty.
"Come to me, prey!" he hissed with relish.
Outside, the battle was turning against them. As more Chitauri poured from the Leviathans, the Iron Guard was being pushed back, their line buckling under the pressure. Dozens of the drones had already been destroyed. Tony had exhausted his entire missile payload; only his energy weapons remained.
"Ben, whatever you're doing, you better be done soon!" he yelled, his voice strained with panic as the Chitauri line crept ever closer to Earth's atmosphere. The smaller Leviathans had now joined the fight, and even they were several times larger than the creatures from the Battle of New York on Ben memories.
One of the beasts swerved, its massive form crashing directly into Tony. It was like being hit by a skyscraper. He screamed as his armor was sent spinning into the void.
"Sir, the left arm has sustained critical damage," Jarvis reported calmly.
Feeling a surge of pain from his own arm, Tony gritted his teeth. "I can feel that, thank you!"
"Delay them for another half an hour," Ben's voice came over the comm, still unnervingly calm.
"You might as well ask me to die!" Tony roared back. But even as he cursed, he spun his damaged suit around and rocketed back toward the enemy. He flew directly into the open maw of a smaller Leviathan. A moment later, it shuddered, its insides glowing before it exploded from within.
"Tony!" Rhodey shouted in alarm.
Tony's battered armor shot out from the fireball, trailing smoke and sparks.
"Sir, armor integrity is at 35%," Jarvis announced. "There is a critical failure in the primary repulsor port."
Tony's face was grim, but his voice was steady. "Jarvis. Deploy Veronica."
As soon as he spoke, a massive launch bay opened atop Avengers Tower back on Earth. A colossal, crimson red device shot into the sky, accelerating to unimaginable speeds.
Tony's ultimate armor would make its debut against the Chitauri. It wasn't alone. Streaking into the cosmos alongside the crimson behemoth was a sinuous, writhing missile of pure black.
Venom was on its way.