This was a collision of giant fists and giant palms, a collision of power between giants.
This was Dormammu's immediate judgment.
As the former ruler of the Dark Dimension, he was incredibly confident in his power. He believed he would surely emerge victorious in this clash of power.
But soon, he realized that things were not unfolding as he expected.
As the golden palm descended, the dark fist grew smaller and smaller.
No, it wasn't the dark fist getting smaller, but the golden palm getting bigger.
This thought had barely surfaced before Dormammu shook it out of his mind.
No, that wasn't right either.
The golden palm wasn't getting bigger. It's just that the golden palm wasn't getting bigger, and his dark fist wasn't getting smaller either. But as the distance closed, the size difference between the two became increasingly vast.
Dormammu watched.
The dark fist went from being a bit larger than the golden palm, to being slightly smaller than the golden palm, then to being like a single finger of the golden palm, a single hair, a single pore, an imperceptible speck on a palm line.
Boom!!!
There was no more time for Dormammu to observe carefully.
The golden palm descended, and his dark fist was instantly obliterated.
Fortunately, Dormammu was an energy being and did not have to endure the pain of broken bones and torn tendons.
But at this moment, if enduring the pain of broken bones and torn tendons could take him back a few minutes, Dormammu would rather endure that pain.
The golden palm continued to descend, and all of Dormammu's attempts to stop it were in vain.
Energy blasts, spikes.
All tangible and intangible attacks that landed on the golden palm caused no ripples.
Seeing that he couldn't stop the golden palm from descending, Dormammu made a decisive move.
His dark energy converged, reforming his right hand, then he crossed his hands in front of him, making a tearing motion.
As terrifying dark energy erupted, the Octopus Dimension space was easily torn open by Dormammu.
Crack... Crack...
A black line like an abyss appeared, and Dormammu twisted his body into an energy beam, shooting towards the black line.
Could Dormammu escape the Octopus Dimension by passing through this spatial rift?
Yes.
Passing through this spatial rift, Dormammu successfully escaped from the Octopus Dimension into the Superflow.
Turning back, Dormammu glanced at this dimension that he had just acquired not long ago, a hint of heartache flashing across his face.
This was the foundation he had worked so hard to build, and he hadn't expected to have to abandon it so quickly.
However, the second time is easier than the first, and this wasn't the first time he had been chased out of a dimension.
Reluctantly withdrawing his gaze, Dormammu's expression became resolute as he looked forward.
He would fight to reclaim the Dark Dimension!
Boom!!!
Suddenly, the Superflow vibrated violently, and streams of vortex-like matter descended from the sky, impacting Dormammu's body, causing his energy form to sway.
Dormammu frowned, looking towards the source of the vibration, and his face instantly changed dramatically.
The golden palm!
That golden palm was chasing him!
No longer caring to sigh, Dormammu transformed into a stream of red, black, and purple light, rushing towards the depths of the Superflow.
But no matter how he fled, as long as he looked up, he would find that golden palm suspended above his head, slowly descending at a constant speed.
And as the golden palm continued to descend, it continuously grew larger in Dormammu's eyes.
From a mountain range to a continent, from a continent to the surface of an unfurled Planet.
From the surface of a Planet to a star system, and then from a star system...
Dormammu had already known the fact that he had nowhere to retreat, but only now did he finally accept it.
He stopped, yelling at the golden palm, "I agree to your terms! Whatever terms!"
"Good, die."
The owner of the golden palm responded to Dormammu.
Of course, this was not the answer Dormammu wanted.
The next moment, the golden palm descended, as if crushing an ant, or perhaps just brushing away a speck of dust
"What!? You just killed Dormammu directly?"
Back in Kamar-Taj, Strange asked Lucas this question.
"Is there a problem?" Lucas replied.
Strange put a hand to his forehead. He took several deep breaths before calming down.
"The Multiverse might be in big trouble."
Strange suddenly lowered his voice, speaking in a tone only he and Lucas could hear, "I've learned from some ancient texts that when such large-scale Multiverse-level crises occur, Multiverse-level deities often intervene."
"They either appear directly or send their representatives to act. But the impact of this Infinite Ultron incident has not subsided for so long."
"Is it long?"
"Isn't it long?"
"Not long. The immortal Gods' sensitivity to time is different from ours." Lucas shook his head and explained.
Strange clearly didn't understand that the time scale of Gods was vastly different from that of mortals.
For mortals, a hundred years is a lifetime, a thousand years is history.
But for some immortal beings, ten thousand years is merely a stage of infancy.
But there was one thing Strange might have guessed correctly.
Lucas also lowered his voice. "Perhaps, the Multiverse is in big trouble, and the Multiverse Gods are also in big trouble."
Lucas felt the sense of repulsion that seemed to come from every corner of reality.
He had not absorbed the energy sent by the Creator during this period.
A large part of the reason he had done so was this sense of repulsion from reality.
As he absorbed energy, he became stronger, the reality's repulsion intensified, and his resistance also strengthened. It seemed like there was no problem, everything maintained a dynamic balance.
But Lucas could clearly feel that even if he didn't get stronger, this sense of repulsion was increasing day by day.
And if he became stronger, the rate at which this sense of repulsion increased would also accelerate.
If it weren't for the fact that this sense of repulsion had no hostility, like a subconscious act, Lucas would have suspected that he was being targeted by Eternity, the embodiment of the Marvel world.
And the current situation, coupled with Ikor's read-and-burn letter from before, gave Lucas another guess.
Eternity was in trouble.
Although he had a suspicion, Strange was still shocked when Lucas confirmed it.
After a moment, Strange recovered from the shocking news and asked, "Lucas, do you have any ideas? Do you want to go and see more of the Multiverse? Perhaps you might discover something."
Strange's voice interrupted Lucas's contemplation.
Lucas seriously considered Strange's suggestion, and an piece of information suddenly flashed through his mind.
Ikor's gift and his letter before his imprisonment.
Months ago, before his confinement, Ikor gave Lucas a promised thank-you gift and a read-and-burn letter.
In the letter, Ikor told Lucas that a major crisis sweeping through all Universes was imminent. He also cautioned Lucas not to easily leave the Marvel world and venture beyond the Neutral Zone.
If he wanted to know what was happening, he should send someone to look beyond the Marvel world.
By relying on Ikor's thank-you gift—a manufacturing technology for a spaceship capable of traveling beyond the Universe.
"No need, I probably won't get any news within the Multiverse. I already have an idea."
"What idea?"
"It's not time to say yet."
Strange: "..."
Strange gave Lucas a resentful look. Seeing that Lucas wasn't joking, he said no more.
He understood the principle that secrets are made by keeping silent, and plans fail by being revealed.
Ultimately, he only instructed, "Give me a deadline. When the time comes, tell me your plan, otherwise I'll take action myself."
"Okay, tomorrow."
"Tomorrow already?"
"I'll give you the deadline tomorrow."
— — —
"Tomorrow? You can't possibly think this is like playing one of those cheap, pay-to-win mobile games where you just click around and hack the GM backend to spawn items, right?"
In the laboratory at Avengers Tower, Tony said.
Lucas defended himself, "I'm just estimating the construction time for this ship, it's not like we have to build it tomorrow. I've looked at the technology, and the documentation explains all the difficulties thoroughly. Theoretically, there are no problems."
Tony retorted, "Theory and reality are worlds apart."
Lucas said, "But right now I only need a theoretical timeframe, not the actual construction."
Bruce, standing nearby, took off his glasses. He withdrew his gaze from the dense documentation and looked at Lucas and Tony, who were arguing.
After carefully wiping them and putting his glasses away, Bruce began to explain, "Theory is usually based on ideal conditions and assumptions, but in reality, engineering faces various complex factors."
"The materials and processes involved in this technology are not achievable with Earth's current technological level."
"Even though the documentation provides multiple solutions, tackling these difficulties one by one will still take time. And exactly how much time that will take is completely unpredictable."
Lucas nodded, showing he understood.
He then walked over, poured a glass of water, and drank it down.
After setting the cup aside, he said, "Materials and processes, Earth's technological level cannot solve these temporarily. But what about the Dwarf Kingdom of Nidavellir? Can we hand the manufacturing work over to them?"
Tony frowned.
He had heard Thor and Loki mention Nidavellir. It was Asgard's armory, famous throughout the Universe for its advanced construction techniques.
Its industrial manufacturing level was decades, if not centuries, ahead of Earth.
But...