The sky shattered like glass.
It didn't just crack—it ruptured. A web of jagged white fissures burst across the firmament, originating from a single point directly above the alien flagship. The fractures pulsed outward like lightning frozen mid-flash, and with them came a sound no human had ever heard: a high-pitched wail that sliced through the atmosphere, drilling into the minds of everyone who heard it.
Reality twisted.
Buildings flickered, their edges doubling and rippling like reflections in a disturbed lake. Chitauri fliers faltered, many crashing into walls or spiraling into the streets below. The sky was no longer a sky—it was a broken mirror suspended above the city, each shard trembling with power.
Alexander staggered back a step. His shadow armor convulsed, as if recoiling from the cosmic pressure. Deep inside him, the ancient magic tied to his powers reacted violently. This wasn't merely energy. This was dimensional instability. Whatever that silver-armored figure had done—it was tearing at the seams of the world.
He gritted his teeth. "This… is not normal."
From the eye of the rupture, something began to fall—not debris, but light itself. Streams of distorted luminescence poured downward like rain, and wherever they struck, time seemed to skip. A collapsed taxi blinked in and out of existence. A lamppost bent sideways as if rubber, then snapped back.
On the floating platform, the armored figure slammed its staff against the surface with thunderous finality.
A jagged beam of energy lanced from the fractured sky, striking the containment dome around Grand Central Station.
The effect was immediate.
The dome shimmered, its surface rippling like water before crystallizing. Its purple hue darkened to obsidian, then hardened into something reflective—like a sphere made of black diamond. Energy tendrils running along its base shifted into interlocking spires, rising like a ribcage enclosing the city center. Where once there was a barrier, now stood a prison.
Inside, the chaos intensified.
Tony flew in tight circles above the new dome. His HUD scrambled with errors. "This thing's not a shield anymore—it's a sarcophagus."
"JARVIS," he snapped. "Breach point, now!"
"Sir, the structure has solidified. It is no longer made of plasma or shield energy. It is… solidified spatial displacement. Like a physical construct formed from broken dimensions."
Tony blinked. "English, please."
"It's made of whatever is holding reality together, and now it isn't."
Thor surged upward with a roar. "Then let it be broken!"
Mjolnir spun furiously in his grip before he hurled it at the dome. The hammer connected with a blinding flash. The resulting shockwave cracked every window in a three-block radius—but the dome remained unscathed.
Thor caught Mjolnir on the return, his jaw clenched. "Stubborn walls."
Alexander stepped forward. "Then we don't attack it. We infiltrate it."
Over the comms, Natasha's voice snapped through. "That's suicide. We don't even know what's inside anymore. That thing's rewriting the laws of physics."
"They're still people in there," Alexander said, his tone cold. "I'm not leaving them."
Without another word, shadows erupted around him. They rose like wings, then pulled inward. Alexander leapt high, slicing through the warping air, and vanished the moment he touched the dome's surface. Where he disappeared, the space shimmered and twisted—as if reality itself made room.
Inside the dome, madness ruled.
The war beasts had turned feral. Their armor, once mechanical, now pulsed like living metal. Chitauri soldiers fired indiscriminately, their weapons distorting the air with every blast. Collapsed parts of the station had become labyrinthine corridors, shifting with each step.
SHIELD operatives and civilians were cornered behind a collapsed train platform, trying to maintain a defensive perimeter. A family huddled in the far corner, shielding their children from stray blasts.
A flicker of shadow cut through the chaos.
Alexander emerged mid-stride from a wall that should not have existed. His blade materialized in his hand, trailing black flames. One of the war beasts lunged toward a group of agents.
Alexander didn't hesitate.
He dashed forward, leapt, and landed on the beast's back. In one smooth motion, he drove his blade into the seam beneath its neck plating. The creature convulsed violently. With a final roar, it collapsed in a heap, blue blood seeping through its fractured armor.
The agents turned in disbelief.
One of them—a young sergeant with blood on his brow—stared. "That… that's the guy. The one from the shadows."
Alexander didn't respond. His gaze locked on the pulsing energy at the dome's core. It was growing.
"We're getting out," he said. "All of you. Stay behind me."
Outside, the silver-armored figure moved to the edge of the platform. It raised its staff again—but this time, not toward the dome.
The clouds overhead twisted and roared.
A second vessel emerged—sleek, angular, and almost silent. Its underbelly glowed red. A swarm of new fliers poured from its hangar like hornets from a hive.
Alexander looked up just as the sky dimmed again.
End of Chapter 80
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