Doggo actually couldn't hold back anymore. His nose twitched, his golden eyes wide as saucers, saliva dripping freely from his maw. They had already arrived above the grocery store so ti ago, but Luke had kept him strapped inside Bumblebee.
From the outside, the quiet New York night looked almost peaceful. Only the distant hum of two military helicopters circling in the dark broke the silence.
They thought they were being discreet, but compared to Bumblebee's cloaking, the clumsy machines might as well have had fireworks strapped to them.
Doggo pressed his snout against the window, fogging up the glass as his tongue lolled out. Below, Riot was tearing through soldiers, silver-gray muscles swelling, teeth gnashing, a predator set loose on prey that had no chance. Doggo's drool ford little puddles on Bumblebee's seat.
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're disgusting, you know that?"
Bumblebee let out a chanical chirp, shaking his steering wheel like a dog flicking off water. He clearly didn't want Doggo's spit soaking into his upholstery either.
"Alright, fine." Luke sighed, his patience wearing thin. Without another word, he pushed the door open midair and gave Doggo a sharp kick.
The husky let out an excited "WOOF!" as he tumbled joyfully into the night sky, legs spread wide like he was diving into a swimming pool. The wind whistled past his ears, and just before hitting the ground, Doggo twisted, his symbiote armor snapping over his body. He landed in a crouch with a thunderous boom.
Luke crossed his arms, shaking his head. "He wanted to go anyway."
Phage had been practically writhing inside Doggo's body, agitated like an animal clawing at a cage.
Seeing Riot devour humans freely only sharpened his hunger. Congressman Brooke, to him, had been nothing more than an appetizer.
…
Back in the S.H.I.E.L.D. eting room.
Nick Fury and the Avengers were still trying to untangle the disaster of Congressman Brooke's death. Papers were scattered across the table, agents moving in and out with grim faces.
Suddenly, the door opened. Hill entered briskly, a tablet tucked under her arm. She leaned close to Fury, her voice low. "Director, our satellite feed picked up activity at Consultant Yale's grocery store. The New York Military District has deployed soldiers there… and they've engaged in battle with his clerk."
Fury raised an eyebrow. "Clerk? You're telling a clerk is fighting an entire squad?"
Hill wordlessly placed the miniature screen on the table. The feed showed soldiers firing wildly into the night, bullets rattling against tal and brick. Then the cara caught it, a massive silver-gray monster ripping through them, snapping helts and crushing skulls with ease. Soldiers scread, weapons clattered to the ground, and heads rolled.
Fury closed his one good eye, rubbed his temple, and groaned. "Why did I even ask?"
Natasha tilted her head, watching the footage. "That's… Luke's 'clerk'?"
Tony let out a low whistle. "Forget clerk. That's an employee benefits package I wouldn't ss with."
Fury waved a hand dismissively. "Let it be. If it ca from Yale's store, we're not touching it. Write it off as… private security."
The Avengers exchanged uneasy glances, but no one argued.
…
New York Military District.
General Mike, the newly appointed head of the District, sat stiffly in his command vehicle. The feeds from helt cams flickered across multiple monitors. At first, he thought this mission was simple, a political errand for Congressman Brooke. Secure the area, flex so muscle, maybe drag a grocery store owner into questioning. Just routine.
But when the silver-gray monster appeared, tearing through n like paper dolls, his face drained of all color.
"What in God's na…" he whispered, hands trembling on the edge of his console.
Every bullet, every shell bounced harmlessly off the creature. Soldiers scread into radios that went dead monts later. His voice broke as he barked: "Retreat! Fall back now! Get those n out of there!"
But it was already too late.
The ground shuddered as sothing far larger appeared. Doggo landed with a thunderous crash, his armored form towering, his maw opening wide enough to snap an armored truck in half. His roar was deafening, primal, the sound of hunger unleashed. Soldiers scattered like ants, but the monster was faster, impossibly fast.
On-screen, General Mike watched in horror as his armored vehicles were flipped like toys, n crushed beneath them. Doggo leapt skyward and dragged a helicopter from the air with his jaws, snapping through its hull before it exploded into flas. The second helicopter tried to retreat, only for Riot's massive claw to scythe through its tail rotor, sending it spiraling into the street.
Within two minutes, the monitors went black. The communication channels turned to static, then complete silence.
Mike collapsed into his seat, his hands slack, eyes wide with shock. His entire force was gone, just like that. Over a hundred n, armored vehicles, helicopters, totally annihilated.
"This… this wasn't supposed to happen," he whispered, his voice cracking.
His hand fumbled for his phone. With shaky fingers, he dialed Congressman Brooke. Each ring cut deeper into his nerves.
Toot… toot…
No answer.
He tried again, and again, but nothing.
What Mike didn't know was that the man he was so desperate to please was already dead.
…
Kamar-Taj.
The air hung heavy with Fel energy, thick and oppressive, saturating every stone corridor. Doctor Strange sat cross-legged in ditation, but his aura pulsed with unnatural green flas. His hands, once scarred and ruined, had been restored, healed not by patience or skill, but by corruption.
But he didn't care. The hospital, the surgeon's life, all of that felt like another lifeti. Now, he burned with a singular purpose: to spread the Fel, to let its brilliance consu the Earth. Around him, the other sorcerers mirrored his zealotry, their eyes glowing faintly, their minds shackled by its seductive power.
Then, the silence shattered.
A glowing orange portal opened in the courtyard. A London sorcerer stumbled through, bloodied and frantic. His eyes darted wildly as he shouted, "Master! London, London is under atta…"
He never finished.
A blade of darkness whistled through the air, impaling him through the chest as he collapsed, lifeless before the stunned crowd.
Kaecilius could be seen through the portal with his disciples at his back, their eyes consud by blackness, their skin etched with Dormammu's mark. His smile was twisted and cruel. "London has already fallen."
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a blast of dark energy and London's Sanctum crumbled in fire and shadow, the explosion echoing even as the portal snapped shut.
The Kamar-Taj sorcerers gasped. London's Sanctum, one of Earth's three great defenses, was gone.
If the others fell, Dormammu's invasion would be inevitable.
The Ancient One's eyes glowed erald with power. Her voice was sharp and commanding: "Mordo, go to Hong Kong. Strange, New York. Protect the Sanctums with your lives. I will see to London myself."
Strange bowed his head, Mordo clenched his fists, and the three parted in silence.
But in the Ancient One's gaze lingered a shadow of worry. She knew, perhaps too late, that the board had already been set, and Kaecilius had made his opening move.
…
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