Lancelot's grip tightened around Mjolnir.
Lightning surged wildly from the hammer, crackling with distorted rage. It wasn't natural. Mjolnir had never looked like this—not even in Thor's darkest battles. The moment Lancelot claimed it, the sacred weapon began to scream against its own divinity, storm clouds above twisting like a writhing serpent.
"That—" Tony choked, hovering mid-air. "That's not supposed to be possible."
Thor stared, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. "He's corrupted it. He's making Mjolnir his own."
Lancelot raised the hammer. For a moment, the battlefield fell silent, as if even the wind held its breath. Then came the thunder.
It split the heavens.
The bolt he called down was not a gift of Asgard. It was wrath incarnate. Twisting red and violet, the lightning struck the ground and exploded outward like a solar flare, sending Hulk flying and ripping a massive trench across the battlefield.
Rin threw up a barrier just in time to shield herself and Natasha. Even then, the impact cracked it down the center.
"We can't let him keep that thing!" Clint shouted, rolling to his feet. "Thor, can you recall it?"
Thor extended his hand. The hammer twitched.
Lancelot twisted his grip, and the storm obeyed him.
Thor's eyes widened. "No. Not while he holds it as his Noble Phantasm. It listens to him."
Tony swore under his breath. "Okay. Time for Plan C."
"We had a Plan C?" Clint asked.
"We do now. Buy me thirty seconds!"
As the others moved in, Rin turned, looking beyond the ridge—toward the quiet dome of force still separating Wanda from everything else. Pietro stood just outside it, pounding his fists against the barrier, shouting. There was pain in his voice now. Desperation.
Rin's heart clenched. She was still trying to figure out the end goal of corrupted Wanda. It struck her—Berserker was just a distraction. A stalling tactic to keep them busy.
She looked toward Wanda, eyes narrowing. Wanda... we don't have time.
Lancelot hurled Mjolnir again. Thor leapt to intercept it in midair, and the clash detonated a shockwave so massive it shattered nearby boulders. Both combatants were flung back, Thor skidding to his knees, blood at the corner of his mouth.
Lancelot didn't stop. He surged forward, grabbing Mjolnir again mid-flight, twisting into a brutal spin as he brought it down on Hulk—who caught it, just barely.
"HULK ANGRY!" Hulk roared, muscles bulging with effort.
Mjolnir sparked against his palms. Hulk's knees buckled.
Tony's voice crackled in Rin's ear. "Stabilizer's nearly ready. I just need a shot."
"You'll get it!" she replied, eyes narrowing. Her hands moved in a blur as she cast a layered burst—a blinding starfield of fake magical signatures erupting in the air to momentarily confuse Lancelot's corrupted senses.
Natasha and Clint coordinated instantly, weaving between the flickers to strike from opposite sides. Clint fired a chain of grappling arrows, wrapping Lancelot's legs, while Natasha vaulted over his back, jamming a spell-pulse baton into the base of his neck.
Lancelot jerked in pain. Hulk capitalized, driving Mjolnir into the ground with all his might and smashing Lancelot beneath it.
For one beat, there was silence.
Then Lancelot rose.
Slowly. With fury. With purpose.
And he brought Mjolnir down in an arc of blackened thunder that obliterated the hillside.
Tony fired.
The stabilizer beam struck Lancelot square in the chest—an experimental hybrid between arc reactor energy and a disruption algorithm tuned to Noble Phantasms. It wasn't enough to destroy him... but it broke the connection.
Mjolnir screamed.
It tore itself from Lancelot's grasp and shot skyward, vanishing into the clouds.
Thor collapsed to his knees, relief and exhaustion washing over him.
But Lancelot still stood.
Unarmed again.
Rin stepped forward. Her voice was low.
"We end this now."
And the storm—now finally silent—watched as the final round began.
......................
While the Avengers battled Lancelot, Pietro continued trying to reach Wanda. She stood still within the dome, unmoving, her gaze vacant, ignoring the chaos.
But then—she moved.
Her head turned toward Lancelot. Though he still held the upper hand in the fight, he was clearly injured and unlikely to endure much longer.
There was no expression on her face. No grief. No fury.
But her power surged.
And she began to speak in a slow, monotonous voice:
"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the Archduke of Contracts be the foundation..."
The incantation one which Rin would have recognized instantly—the summoning ritual.
Energy exploded outward. Pietro was hurled back, crashing hard against the rocks.
The dome cracked from within. Energy traced down its surface like lightning on glass, and Wanda stepped forward as the edges began to disintegrate into stardust. Her hair floated, suspended in magical current. Her eyes shimmered—not red, but pure white.
.................
Simultaneously, Lancelot's battle with the Avengers intensified. He had discarded his helm, face revealed and twisted in silent wrath. Arondight returned to his hands, gleaming darkly.
For the first time in the battle, the Avengers had the advantage. They pushed him, pressed him, drove him back.
But then, from Wanda's position, a pulse of energy erupted.
Pietro came crashing down beside them, unconscious.
A new energy filled the air. Everyone turned.
Above them, the corrupted sky of the Mirror Dimension transformed.
A massive, luminous ring now hung in the heavens, glowing with divine intensity. Perfect and circular, it radiated a pale, otherworldly light. The light bathed the sky in serene hues—violet, silver, pale indigo—beautiful and terrible, motionless and eternal.
It felt like time had stopped. The air no longer moved. Even Lancelot turned to look.
Rin staggered, eyes wide in horror.
"That's not just a sky..." she whispered. "It's a sigil. A gateway."
Her voice rose in warning.
"Angra Mainyu is trying to use Wanda's power to get the Holy Grail—HE'S FORCING A MANIFESTATION!"
The ring above pulsed with malevolent light, the next phase of the nightmare had begun.