The portal had opened successfully.
The invasion had not.
The biochanical leviathans produced by the fleet, along with the endless swarms of soldiers pouring through the gateway like locusts, had been shredded before they could properly establish a foothold on Earth.
Then even the flagship, the Hive, had been destroyed.
And through the entire disaster, Loki had vanished after his little stunt in Germany.
Thanos sat there in silence, wearing the cosmic equivalent of a deeply offended expression.
He had provided Loki with troops.
Resources.
An Infinity Stone.
And in return?
Not only had Loki failed to retrieve the Space Stone, he had sohow lost the Mind Stone too.
That was not failure anymore.
That was fraud.
Still, beneath the anger, Thanos also understood sothing.
If Loki had obediently followed the script from beginning to end, then all the ambition and hatred Thanos had sensed in him would have been fake.
No.
This felt more deliberate.
Perhaps Loki had planned from the beginning to exploit him.
"Excellent."
Through the darkness before him, Thanos could almost picture Loki standing sowhere across unimaginable light-years, choosing Earth over him.
Choosing betrayal.
Then Thanos smiled.
"Asgardian… you've done sothing worthy of your ancestors."
His voice echoed through Sanctuary I like distant thunder.
"No one has ever dared to steal from ."
"No one ever could."
"You should feel honored for achieving it, Loki."
The smile vanished.
"And now you can wait for death to arrive."
There was no doubt in Thanos's mind.
Once his affairs with the Shi'ar Empire concluded, he would personally crush Loki alongside the primitive little world he had chosen to protect.
Of course, that did not an Thanos intended to sit idle in the anti.
Orders had already been issued.
Whether Earth could survive what was coming remained to be seen.
…
New York.
After Drex Valen personally intervened and claid the city as S.W.O.R.D.'s new headquarters, massive reconstruction efforts had begun.
The outer periter had first been reinforced with a steel wall over six feet thick and nearly sixteen feet tall, encircling what had once been New York City.
Everything inside was now classified at the highest possible level.
Ordinary civilians knew almost nothing about what was happening there.
Even most extraordinary people only knew fragnts.
What they did know was that the number of third-generation War Machine units, massive Decepticon-like combat platforms, seed to be increasing continuously.
The first-generation War Machine units, anwhile, were gradually being transferred into police departnts across various nations rather than military use.
Mostly because the technology evolved too quickly.
Fighter jets did not beco obsolete this fast.
War Machines had replaced tanks and aircraft almost overnight.
Then they had started replacing themselves.
Only smaller countries still treated first-generation War Machines as strategic weapons comparable to nuclear deterrents.
…
Los Angeles.
Stark Tower was still undergoing large-scale reconstruction.
At the top floor, Tony Stark sat staring at unfinished blueprints with exhausted frustration.
Nearby, Peter Parker quietly played gas while trying very hard not to attract attention, like a nervous kid pretending not to exist while his father worked.
Every so often, Peter glanced sideways at Tony before sneaking a look at ssages on his phone.
The ssages ca from Harry Osborn.
Peter's wealthy best friend.
Though recently, Harry's life had been spiraling downhill.
Both personally and professionally.
OsCorp's headquarters had been located in New York too, which ant the damage from the invasion had been catastrophic.
Then again, considering the entire city had basically ceased to exist for a while, Harry figured he was hardly alone in suffering.
Still, his own problems remained.
Which was why he finally decided to contact Peter.
The mont Tony beca distracted, Peter slipped out unnoticed.
"So what's going on, Harry?"
Ever since Peter beca Spider-Man, things with Gwen had escalated fast.
Very fast.
The two of them had fallen into each other with almost ridiculous intensity. Every ti they looked at one another, it felt like the universe itself was pushing them together.
Eventually, Peter found himself thinking less and less about Mary Jane.
It was not intentional.
Being around Gwen simply felt different.
Stronger.
More real.
And Gwen was also his superhero senior, the famous Spider-Woman herself.
A married pair of Spider-heroes sohow felt weirdly perfect.
Neither of them realized the attraction had probably been intensified by the mutated spider itself.
At the mont, though, they were far too deep in love to question it.
"Peter."
Harry looked terrible.
Pale.
Exhausted.
His usual confidence and energy were gone, which shocked Peter imdiately.
"What happened? Is this about OsCorp?"
"No."
Harry shook his head slowly.
"Do you know what a retrovirus is?"
Peter blinked. "Not really."
"HERV. Human endogenous retrovirus."
Harry hesitated before continuing.
"You can think of it as the Osborn family disease."
"Anyone born with it is basically dood."
"I'm dying, Peter."
The bitterness in his voice was hard to miss.
Norman Osborn had spent nearly all his ti obsessed with business. He had even sent Harry away to boarding school when he was eleven years old.
Only after Harry's symptoms began worsening had Norman finally told him the truth about the hereditary disease.
And the disease only got worse over ti.
There was no cure.
No resistance.
No miracle.
During the Battle of Manhattan, Harry had briefly wondered whether cybernetic conversion might allow him to survive as so kind of machine-human hybrid.
But deep down, nobody wanted to abandon being human.
And Harry lacked that kind of technology anyway.
Still, OsCorp's research had shown him sothing important.
Spider genetics contained regenerative properties.
Which naturally made him think of Spider-Man.
Of course, Harry admired Spider-Man.
But he had no idea whether Spider-Man would actually help him.
Harry was not selfish enough to assu heroes treated everyone equally just because they saved people publicly.
And asking for Spider-Man's blood was a huge request.
Still…
Trying was better than waiting to die.
"So I want you to help find Spider-Man."
Peter froze.
Because the problem was not simple.
If his blood could definitely save Harry, Peter would hand it over without hesitation.
But he was terrified it might kill him instead.
Of course, Norman had not expected Harry to overthink the issue this much.
Even if Norman had drifted away sowhat from the World Serpent organization, Umbrella Corporation still existed.
All he really needed to do was request additional suppressant doses from the Boss each month.
But Harry did not know that.
"I'll try," Peter said carefully.
Then an idea suddenly hit him.
"But honestly… maybe you should try talking to Drex Valen instead."
Harry's eyes lit up instantly.
Then dimd again.
"Soone like him probably wouldn't even look at twice."
After all, who was Drex Valen?
The discoverer of two entirely new elents.
The man scientists already expected to enter history textbooks the mont he died.
The father of new elents.
New weapons.
New materials.
A figure operating on a completely different level from ordinary people.
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