New York City. Manhattan.
The sky was no longer the sky.
It had become a vast, oppressive slab of black iron, sealing the city beneath it.
Malekith had no interest in games of cat and mouse.
The moment he confirmed that the woman carrying the scent of the Aether was somewhere within this concrete jungle, he issued a single, final command—
"Erase it."
Tens of thousands of Scythe fighters stopped their scattered assaults.
Like a swarm of killer bees answering their queen's call, they converged from every direction.
No dives.
No dogfights.
They simply hovered—occupying every inch of Manhattan's sky.
And that stillness was far more suffocating than the bombardment before it.
From Central Park to Wall Street.
From the Empire State Building to the Statue of Liberty.
Layer upon layer.
Blotting out the sun.
New York fell into shadow, accompanied only by the low-frequency hum of alien engines.
"Zzz—zz—zz—"
"Hmmm—hmmm—hmmm—"
The sound of energy resonance dragged across every nerve in the city like a rusted saw.
They were charging.
Thousands of dark cannon muzzles ignited at once, glowing a deep crimson.
That wasn't starlight.
Those were the eyes of death.
"They're… going to wipe New York off the map."
On the ground, Tony Stark stared upward, his helmet open, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"JARVIS… route all remaining power to the chest unibeam."
"Sir, the arc reactor temperature is already critical. Forced discharge may cause a catastrophic overload."
"Then let it overload."
Tony looked at the annihilation gathering above them and smiled bitterly.
"Let's fight to the very last second."
Nearby, Steve Rogers stood atop an overturned school bus. His shield was scorched and battered, its paint marred by black burn marks.
He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms.
Helplessness.
An emotion Captain America rarely felt.
He could charge HYDRA tanks.
He could punch alien armies.
But against saturation annihilation on this scale… human courage felt painfully small.
"Kids," he said quietly, "get behind me."
Only now did the once-confident Superhero Trainees truly understand what war meant.
"As long as we're standing, we haven't lost," Steve said, tightening the strap of his shield.
"If this is the end—then we meet it like soldiers."
It was all he could offer.
…
Jessica Jones knelt amid the rubble.
The Aether particles within her surged violently with her emotions, teetering on the edge of collapse. Pain threatened to knock her unconscious, but she dug her fingers into the ground and refused to fall.
"That… bastard…" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Is he… coming or not…"
Elsewhere, Deadpool casually picked his teeth with half a broken blade.
"Wow. That's a big setup."
He whistled at the sky.
"These visuals are way better than that franchise with the glow-stick swords and daddy issues. But shouldn't the director cut now? Isn't this where a guy in red underwear shows up to save the world?
…Oh wait. Ours doesn't wear underwear. He prefers freeballing."
Despair spread through the city like a disease.
In bunkers.
In ruined streets.
In livestreams watched by millions.
Everyone looked up at the falling light.
No one screamed.
Fear, taken to its extreme, steals the voice.
Until—
A dust-covered boy stood on the grass of Hunters Point South Park in Queens.
Peter Parker clutched a copy of The Adventures of Homelander, personally signed.
His small body trembled.
But his eyes held stubborn belief.
"Homelander…" he whispered.
His voice vanished beneath the charging hum.
"Homelander!"
Louder now.
A homeless man beside him turned sharply, as if grabbing a lifeline.
"Homelander?"
"HOMELANDER!!"
The name carried power.
In a world swallowed by darkness, it became the only light.
The voices spread.
From Central Park to Fifth Avenue.
From Brooklyn to Queens.
Livestream chats exploded.
No arguments.
No debates.
Just endless lines flooding the screen—
[HOMELANDER]
[HOMELANDER]
[HOMELANDER]
Millions of voices.
Faith, given form.
-----
Vought Tower — Control Room
Ashley stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the apocalypse outside.
Her legs shook violently.
But her hand stayed pressed against the console.
She was waiting.
Waiting for the time he gave her.
"Five…"
She glanced at her watch—the countdown Homelander had set before leaving.
"Four…"
The red glow in the sky burned blindingly bright.
"Three…"
The air itself began to scorch.
"Two…"
Ashley closed her eyes and slammed the red playback button.
"One!!"
BZZZT—
Power surged.
Atop Starr Tower, the citywide sonic array roared to life.
Across America, every Vought broadcast cut simultaneously.
The music began.
That soaring, heroic, world-shaking score—
"Theme From Superman."
The opening notes thundered across New York.
DUN—DUN—DUN—DUN—!!
At the crescendo—
BOOOOOOM—!!!!!
The atmosphere split apart.
No one saw what happened.
They only saw a red-and-blue streak—
a spear of light hurled from hell toward heaven.
Speed.
Absolute speed.
With Team Assembly active, he reached Mach 450.
He circled the planet once, compressing his kinetic energy beyond imagination.
At that moment, he was no longer a man.
He was a divine warhead.
"PU-PU-PU-PU-PU—!!!!"
The sky ignited.
His body became countless lines of death, ripping effortlessly through the dense fighter formation.
Where he passed, ships shattered—exploded—rained fire.
In mere seconds, the black canopy above New York was violently erased.
The sky… brightened.
It was destruction.
And it was the most expensive fireworks display humanity would ever receive.
The shockwaves faded.
Amid the burning wreckage—
A figure came to a stop in midair.
A tricolor cape snapped in the heat.
Blond hair flawless.
Uniform spotless.
Below him: flaming debris.
Above him: dispersing darkness.
Vought's Hummingbird drones surged into position behind him with perfect timing.
The camera pushed in.
His back.
Broad.
Unyielding.
As if it could carry the entire world.
He turned his head slowly.
Blue eyes met the lens—met every person watching.
He smiled.
Softly.
"As long as I'm here…"
"…no one gets to steal your tomorrow."
--------------
T/N:
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