Namor hovered in mid-air, his expression grim as he locked eyes with Captain Supre, Steve Rogers. The brief exchange they'd just had told Namor everything he needed to know—this man was no ordinary opponent. In terms of combat prowess and physical strength, he was either Namor's equal… or even stronger.
What unsettled Namor even more was how familiar Rogers looked—eerily similar to soone from his past.
"I don't care who you are," Namor growled, golden trident humming with power as he pointed it at Rogers. "But if you stand in my way, then you will be punished."
Rogers raised his shield to chest level, his voice clear and sharp: "You reek of salt and rot, sea creature. This land isn't yours to defile. Crawl back to your murky depths."
"You're courting death!" Namor snarled, launching himself like a golden cannonball toward Rogers, trident gleaming with deadly energy.
BOOM!
The golden trident collided with the vibranium shield, unleashing a massive shockwave that exploded outward from the point of impact. The ripple of energy knocked over dozens of Atlantis warriors, their reinforced armor shattering as they collapsed. Many wouldn't get back up.
Before the others could respond, Atlantis foot soldiers on the ground raised their energy rifles, unleashing a volley of shimring blasts toward Rogers.
But just in ti—
"Hey! Filthy blue sardines! Do us all a favor and stop stinking up the mainland!"
Spider-Man swung in, his eight chanical arms flaring out in a deadly arc. With lethal precision, he began mowing through the soldiers, his claws cutting through Atlantean armor like paper.
Behind him, the Winter Soldier opened fire. Every shot from his high-energy rifle tore through clusters of enemy troops, the rainbow flashes of plasma fire illuminating the battlefield like a laser show of death.
And above it all, two figures hovered—Wanda Maximoff and the Mandarin.
Each of their attacks was devastating. Chaos magic and alien ring technology turned them into true reapers of the battlefield. With each movent, dozens fell. They were unstoppable.
High above in a support aircraft, Daisy Johnson sat stunned, staring at the holographic projections of the battlefield. As a new recruit to the Sharp Blade Squad, Rogers had assigned her to support and logistics—safe and out of the action. But what she was witnessing below sent chills down her spine.
She had expected the Sharp Blade Squad to handle covert missions—silent assassinations, tactical sabotage—not to rampage through armies like living superweapons.
And yet here they were—charging in headfirst, breaking everything.
Every single one of them radiated terrifying strength. The Mandarin, with his calm deanor and unassuming smile, had just transford into a walking weapon of mass destruction. Wanda, her friend, had literally held back a tsunami with her bare hands and magic. Just the mory made Daisy's arms erupt with goosebumps.
One day, could I be like them too? she thought. Gene had said it was possible—if she trained, if she committed.
Her fists clenched in resolve.
Suddenly, a blinding red energy beam shot toward Rogers, fast and deadly. His communicator erupted with ergency alerts.
"Dangerous energy signature approaching!"
Spider-Man's suit lit up with warning signals as well.
The red beam tore through several skyscrapers, lting through steel and glass like butter—until it reached Rogers.
"Perfect timing," Rogers said coolly, lifting his shield. "Wanda! Mandarin! Take care of the sea warships! Bucky, Spider-Man, we hold Namor here!"
The red beam smashed into Rogers's shield… and stopped. Not a single scratch. Rogers didn't even flinch. Like an unshakable fortress, he stood firm, shielding not just himself but Spider-Man as well.
"Damn, Cap. Your shield is indestructible," Spider-Man muttered in awe.
"You're damn right it is. It's tougher than your fancy spider-suit," Rogers quipped, his tone still calm under pressure.
Behind them, Bucky blocked residual energy blasts with his cybernetic arm, standing like an unyielding wall beside his friend.
Wanda and the Mandarin soared into the sky, heading straight for the nearby coast where the true army of Atlantis was gathering.
Row after row of elite soldiers erged from the surf in glistening blue armor. Behind them, titanic warships rose from the water, unleashing glowing barrages of energy into Manhattan.
The Statue of Liberty had already fallen into the sea. Her iconic torch? Gone without a trace.
"One each," the Mandarin said to Wanda, almost cheerfully, as if he were preparing to share dessert.
"No problem," Wanda smiled, her eyes glowing red. Chaos magic rippled through the air around her.
In an instant, one of the colossal underwater ships twisted and shriveled under the weight of reality-warping magic. It shrank, contorted, and compressed into a single cube the size of a suitcase.
The Mandarin's ten rings lit up with multicolored power—flas, frost, gravity, magnetism, particle disruption…
He unleashed a maelstrom of attacks, vaporizing soldiers and reducing ships to molten debris.
"One step behind, little girl!" he laughed, blasting yet another vessel to pieces.
"Oh, you're on," Wanda said. Two more Atlantean warships were instantly swallowed by swirling red storms, crumpling into useless tal husks.
Below them, the surviving warriors of Atlantis scread and fired in desperation—but neither the Mandarin nor Wanda were so much as touched. They danced through the air, weapons of myth made real.
And in that mont, the once-proud soldiers of Atlantis began to feel a new emotion.
Despair.
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T/N:
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