High above the chaos, the storm elental shrieked, a vortex of unnatural wind and debris fighting to tear itself free. Thor spun Mjolnir faster, the hamr becoming a silver blur that generated a counter-cyclone, its own powerful whirlwind pushing back against the tempest's fury. He ascended into the heart of the gale, a god determined to ta the heavens. Beside him, Carol Danvers was a blazing cot, streams of pure photon energy lancing into the swirling darkness. Though her power was waning after the prolonged fight, her resolve was iron, each blast a brilliant starburst against the raging storm.
Far below, on a separate battlefield, the fight against the fire elental had turned the valley into a furnace. A wall of heat slamd into the heroes with physical force. The 2nd-generation Spider-Man felt a flicker of gratitude for Tony Stark's design; while his suit's external sensors blared with temperature warnings, its internal regulation system kept him cool under pressure.
The sa couldn't be said for the others. Both Harry Osborns, clad in their respective armors, were fighting a losing battle against the heat. Their visors fogged with condensation, and warning chis echoed in their helts. Sweat dripped from the 1st-generation Spider-Man's chin, plastering his mask to his face, while the 2nd-generation Gwen fought to keep her breathing steady in the oppressive, shimring air.
"This thing is an inferno," the 1st-generation Spider-Man grunted, dodging a wave of fire that lted the rock where he'd just been standing.
Doctor Strange's hands moved in a complex, arcane dance, tracing a mandala of crackling orange light in the air. "Then we shall have to extinguish it." With a final, resonant thrum, the portal tore open not in the air, but on the distant ocean floor.
A torrent of frigid, crushing darkness erupted from the gateway. An entire ecosystem of deep-sea pressure and glacial water surged into the valley like a phantom tsunami, roaring toward the fire elental that towered hundreds of ters high.
The mont the water t the elental's incandescent legs, the valley exploded. An earsplitting hiss drowned out all other sound as colossal volus of seawater instantly vaporized, throwing a thick, white shroud of steam into the sky that blotted out the sun. The elental barely flinched. The malevolent, dark purple lines etched across its form pulsed with an unholy energy—the power of Dormammu—sizzling against the water but refusing to yield. The titan was utterly immune to the impact.
"Oh no! The steam's coming our way!" the 2nd-generation Spider-Man yelled.
Strange, ever-prepared, widened the gateway to the Mirror Dinsion, pulling them all into its crystalline safety just as the superheated cloud enveloped their previous position. From within the pocket dinsion, they watched the scene unfold. The valley had beco a gigantic, boiling cauldron. Fish, swept from the deep ocean, thrashed desperately in the scalding water before floating lifelessly to the surface.
Yet, the elental marched on, its thunderous steps unimpeded by the boiling soup that swirled around its calves.
Strange narrowed his eyes, refusing to give up. He widened the portal to the ocean, increasing the flow of cold water in a desperate bid to lower the temperature of the impromptu lake. He dared not risk transporting the elental directly into the sea—its true power was an unknown variable he wasn't willing to gamble on—but he could safely bring the sea to it.
The flood of boiling water, however, was having unintended consequences. At the S.W.O.R.D. command center, Maria Hill's expression was grim. On the main tactical display, the icons for the first responding fire crews flashed red. "Get Strange, now!" she commanded. "Tell him to shut it down!"
The firefighters who had rushed to combat the wildfires on the valley's edge were being swamped. The terrain had turned into a muddy quagmire, and their heavy trucks were sinking, their tires spinning uselessly as the hot seawater rose around them.
Of course, Strange, sealed within the Mirror Dinsion, couldn't receive her call.
Hill pivoted instantly. "Patch through to the battalion chief on the ground." A mont later, she was giving new orders. "Use your flares. Signal for help."
A lone firefighter, hearing the command crackle over his radio, took a deep breath. He climbed out of his truck's cab and onto its precarious roof, the scalding water rushing just inches below his boots. The torrent was thick with debris—uprooted trees, sharp rocks, and the pale, cooked bodies of deep-sea fish. A heavy boulder slamd into the side of the truck, making the entire vehicle shudder. Ignoring the danger, he raised his flare gun to the sky and fired three crimson stars into the dense, foggy air.
The wind, a lingering remnant of the defeated air elental, was rcifully blowing away from their position, clearing just enough of the steam for the signal to be seen.
From his vantage point, the 2nd-generation Spider-Man caught the faint red streaks. His suit's lenses automatically zood and clarified the image, cutting through the haze. He knew that pattern instantly. It was a sight he'd seen too many tis over the skies of New York.
"Guys," he said, his voice sharp with urgency. "Soone's in trouble over there. That's a distress signal."
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