Hawkeye didn't hesitate—he drew his bow and released an arrow straight toward Captain America. The Captain dodged skillfully, then sprinted toward him.
The battle began. The Captain's shield clashed against Hawkeye's arrows in a fierce duel. Using his shield for defense, the Captain displayed extraordinary combat skills, trying to close the distance and break Loki's control over Hawkeye.
Relying on agility and pinpoint accuracy, Hawkeye kept his distance, firing arrows aimed at the Captain's weak points. But the Captain, with sharp instincts and tactical precision, kept pressing forward, looking for an opening to counterattack.
He quickly realized that the narrow stairwell would limit Hawkeye's shooting angles. Dodging arrows with agility, he moved swiftly through the tight space, deflecting each shot with his shield.
The two fought fiercely through the stairwells and corridors of the Stark Tower.
Not to be outdone, Hawkeye adjusted his stance, leapt onto the stair railing, and fired a rapid volley of arrows from above. The Captain, however, reacted swiftly—rolling, ducking, and avoiding every strike.
Seizing a moment, the Captain surged upward from below, smashing his shield toward Hawkeye. Hawkeye parried with his bow, the impact sending him rebounding backward to maintain distance.
They clashed in brutal close combat. The Captain switched fluidly between offense and defense, his well-honed training evident in every movement. Shield blocks, punches, and knee strikes came in relentless succession, giving Hawkeye no chance to breathe.
Hawkeye countered with deadly precision, arrows flashing through the air, aiming for vital spots. He moved gracefully, dodging blows and keeping his range, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.
"Your aim could use some work," the Captain taunted from the corner.
Using the gaps in the staircase, the Captain maneuvered cleverly—hiding behind corners, vaulting over railings, blocking arrows mid-motion, and charging in with fierce attacks.
Hawkeye kept shifting his aim, eyes sharp, seeking the slightest flaw in the Captain's defense. His arrows came fast and deadly, every shot meant to take the Captain down.
But as his quiver emptied, the Captain spotted an opening—he lunged forward, smashing Hawkeye's bow arm with his shield.
Hawkeye staggered back in pain but stubbornly held his stance.
Seeing the Captain's swift movements, Hawkeye switched to close combat. He lunged forward and landed a heavy punch across the Captain's face.
The Captain gritted his teeth through the pain and counterattacked instantly. His strikes were fierce and precise, a perfect balance of power and agility.
Hawkeye dodged fluidly, retaliating with swift, accurate blows. His movements were sharp and graceful—each attack targeting the Captain's vulnerabilities.
The Captain's eyes hardened with determination. Using the environment to his advantage, he pushed off walls and railings, his shield strikes becoming faster and more unpredictable. He suddenly leapt, slamming his shield down—but Hawkeye narrowly evaded.
Hawkeye regained balance using the railing, countering with quick, powerful kicks that drove the Captain back.
But the Captain didn't flinch. He charged again, unleashing a flurry of punches and shield strikes like lightning. Hawkeye tried to dodge, but the sheer speed and precision overwhelmed him.
Gradually, the Captain noticed Hawkeye's weakening defense. He increased the pressure, landing blow after blow until Hawkeye was forced onto the defensive.
Hawkeye realized he was losing ground. Desperate, he focused and prepared to strike back—
But the Captain threw his shield.
BANG!The shield slammed into Hawkeye's chest.
"Take a nap, Clint," the Captain said coldly, following up with a solid punch that knocked Hawkeye unconscious.
After Andre telekinetically blasted a squad of Chitauri soldiers away, he suddenly sensed a powerful mental force attacking him. He immediately raised his psychic defenses, closing his eyes and focusing all his will to resist the invasion.
"This time, there will be no one to save you," Proxima Midnight said coldly, her psychic energy flooding the battlefield, reaching deep into Andre's mind.
Andre stood firm, his telekinetic power forming an invisible barrier around him. His will was unshakable—he would not allow anyone to enter his mind.
"Get out!" Andre roared, eyes snapping open as his power flared.
Their minds collided. Proxima tried to invade his consciousness, to turn him into her puppet. Andre resisted fiercely, merging willpower and psychic strength to repel her.
Proxima's power pulsed stronger and stronger as she searched for weaknesses, her eyes sharp and calculating. She knew that if she could control Andre, the battle would turn in her favor.
Andre gritted his teeth, enduring the immense pressure. His telekinesis expanded, building a mental fortress to keep her out. His thoughts became razor-sharp—he refused to be broken.
Their psychic clash intensified, power waves colliding in the unseen realm.
"You think I'm still on the defensive?" Andre smirked. "You're wrong."
Gathering his energy, Andre launched a telekinetic shockwave straight at her.
Proxima's eyes widened. She tried to dodge—but the blast hit her dead on.
The explosion hurled her backward, slamming her into a wall with a thunderous crash, leaving a deep dent in the metal.
"I don't need to resist forever," Andre said with a wicked grin. "I just need to beat you first."
Without hesitation, he lifted debris with his mind—chairs, tables, shattered metal—all flew toward Proxima like a storm.
She struggled to block them with psychic energy, but the relentless barrage forced her back.
"Looks like you're still not fully recovered," Andre taunted.
Channeling even more power, he created a telekinetic storm—winds howled, lightning crackled, and energy tore through the battlefield, shredding Proxima's defenses.
She gritted her teeth, trying to hold on, but Andre's power overwhelmed her. Her psychic shield shattered, and her body trembled under the strain.
Finally, Andre's will crushed hers completely. Proxima collapsed, powerless, her body twitching slightly.
"Your control ends here," Andre said firmly, his voice calm but commanding.
Proxima looked up weakly, eyes still burning with defiance.
"You… still can't stop… them," she rasped.
Andre frowned. He knew exactly who she meant—the Chitauri army. The real battle was far from over.
"Loki and the Chitauri…" he murmured.
Proxima coughed weakly, forcing a faint smile.
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