"SPIDER-MAN! DIE!"
The hulking gray mass of Riot roared, tearing through the trunk of the yellow convertible.
Jonah Jameson kept his foot slammed on the gas pedal, steering wildly through the debris-littered streets. He turned the passenger-side camera to frame himself and the chaotic fight happening in his backseat. He shot Spider-Man a bewildered glare in the rearview mirror. "You actually have a personal grudge against these alien freaks?!"
"I killed this specific one at the docks last night!" Peter yelled over the rushing wind, dodging a massive, jagged gray blade. "Well, I think I killed him twice, actually. But his alien god-king apparently has a great resurrection policy!"
Peter's white lenses narrowed as he blocked another heavy strike from Riot.
Jonah gripped the steering wheel, his journalistic instincts flaring. "You seem to know a hell of a lot about what's going on, Spider-Man. The Avengers, too?"
"We know, Jonah," Peter grunted, kicking Riot square in the chest. "But I can't broadcast it. Not because I don't want to, but to ensure the safety of the civilians."
"Damn it, tell me right now, web-head!" Jonah barked, his mustache bristling. "I have the right to know! The people have the right to know the truth!"
"If you want the truth, you're going to have to force the federal government to declassify the illegal human experiments the U.S. military was running at the bottom of the Hudson River!" Peter shouted back. "But if I spill those state secrets on your live feed right now, I guarantee the Pentagon will sever your cellular uplink in ten seconds flat. So you better think carefully, Jonah—do you want to stay on the air and show people the truth of this invasion, or do you want to get blacked out?"
It was a blatant threat, and Jonah Jameson recognized it instantly. But the threat wasn't coming from Spider-Man or the Avengers; it was coming from the shadows of the United States government. Spider-Man's dialogue explicitly linked this apocalyptic alien invasion to black-book military experiments. The military had these things locked in a lab? After a tense moment of silence, Jonah suddenly roared over his shoulder, "Spider-Man! Turn that camera around! Let the people see something meaningful!"
"Alright, viewers at home!" Peter yelled, leaning into the camera's frame while simultaneously parrying a gray tentacle. "This is your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! As you can see, J. Jonah Jameson is hosting a special, live-action episode of his podcast—Escape from the Brink! I'll handle the monsters, and Jonah's in charge of the getaway driving! Let the games begin!"
Peter moved at lightning speed. Riot lunged forward, his jaws unhinged, but Peter was ready. He channeled a concentrated burst of bio-electricity through his gauntlets and slammed his palms into Riot's chest.
A dazzling, blinding flash of white lightning illuminated the street.
Riot shrieked, violently thrown backward out of the convertible and tumbling across the asphalt. But a second later, the gray sludge stabilized, pooling together and rapidly reforming its hulking humanoid shape. It immediately resumed its sprint, chasing the speeding car.
Because Riot currently possessed no human host, he was a pure, unadulterated symbiotic mimic. The bio-electric shock that had previously threatened to stop Ward's heart now only served as a temporary stun. Coupled with Riot's absurd base stats, which easily rivaled Peter's enhanced strength, this was going to be an incredibly brutal war of attrition.
Just my luck, Peter thought.
Riot's massive legs pounded against the pavement, his running speed easily matching the vintage convertible's engine.
Peter fired two thick web-lines at a massive, digital billboard mounted on a nearby brick wall. With a sharp yank, he ripped the heavy steel-and-glass screen off its moorings and whipped it directly into Riot's path. The symbiote smashed right through the heavy debris in an explosion of sparks and shattered glass, barely breaking his stride.
Jonah watched the chaos in the rearview mirror, his jaw dropping. "Good grief, Spider-Man! Do you have to cause millions of dollars in property damage every time you fight?!"
"Property damage isn't as important as human lives, Jonah!"
Peter fired another web, grabbing the chassis of a wrecked, abandoned sedan on the sidewalk. He swung the entire two-ton vehicle like a medieval flail, smashing it directly into Riot. A fireball erupted as the gas tank ruptured.
From the center of the flames, Riot emerged, completely unfazed, his gray armor unaffected by the heat.
"Spider-Man! He's still charging at us!" Jonah yelled.
"I can see that, Jonah!"
As Riot prepared to launch himself at the bumper of the car, Peter tapped his left wrist. The pearlescent white blade of the Dragonfang sword materialized in his grip. As Riot lunged, Peter slashed the magical weapon in a flawless, horizontal arc.
The blade cleaved Riot completely in half at the waist. No blood splattered. For a second, the top half of the monster slid off the bottom half. Then, the gray liquid simply reached out, pulled its two halves back together, and seamlessly merged back into a single, charging behemoth.
Jonah stared into the mirror, his eyes wide. "Is that thing a freaking T-1000?!"
"Do you happen to know where there's a conveniently located vat of molten steel we can dump him in?!" Peter yelled. "If not—"
Peter didn't finish his sentence. Four sleek, silver Ultron drones suddenly dropped from the sky, hovering directly between the speeding car and the charging symbiote. The robots unleashed a synchronized barrage of concentrated heat beams and high-frequency sonic cannons, temporarily pinning Riot to the pavement in a shrieking puddle of gray sludge.
Peter let out a heavy sigh, dropping into the backseat to catch his breath.
"Drive to Avengers Tower, Jonah," Peter ordered, his chest heaving. "All the survivors who couldn't evacuate the island have been funneled there for temporary refuge."
"I am not a deserter, Spider-Man!" Jonah barked stubbornly. "I'm not running to a bunker!"
"I'm not telling you to desert your post," Peter pointed forward, his white lenses narrowing. "I'm telling you to point your camera at the real story. Because the enemy is attacking the Tower."
A few miles down the avenue, looming over the midtown skyline, a nightmare was unfolding.
The colossal black symbiote dragon, Grendel, was slowly beating its massive wings, advancing on Avengers Tower.
In the airspace around the beast, the immune strike team was waging a desperate, brilliant war. The Human Torch and Living Lightning flew in tight formations, unleashing blinding torrents of plasma and pure energy to singe the dragon's wings. Down on the street, Goliath had expanded to his maximum sixty-foot height, physically wrestling the dragon's sweeping tail to halt its advance. Above him, Iceman rode a slick glacier of his own making, firing massive, sub-zero shackles around the beast's claws to freeze it in place.
The combined assault of the heroes was magnificent, staggering the beast and hindering its progress. But it seemed to be a losing battle of attrition. The dragon just kept roaring, its void-like eyes locked onto the shelter.
Jonah Jameson gripped his steering wheel, a dark, heavy realization settling in his gut. Can the Avengers actually win this?
Beyond the confines of Earth, across the vast, dimensional expanse of the cosmos, existed realms of unparalleled magic and ancient civilizations.
Asgard remained as magnificent as ever, its golden spires gleaming under the eternal twilight. The inhabitants of the Eternal Realm enjoyed a carefree, joyous day of feasting and training.
Except for one.
The dark-haired warrior goddess, Sif, walked out onto the edge of a sweeping, golden terrace. She found Thor leaning heavily against the ornate railing, staring out at the cosmos.
"You have been sullen all morning, Thor," Sif observed quietly. She noted the heavy, ornate goblet of mead in his hand that remained completely untouched.
"I am worried about Midgard, Sif," Thor murmured, his deep voice carrying a heavy burden. "The turmoil that realm has faced in the last five years has surpassed the sum of the past millennium. The Chitauri. The Dark Elves. Now... I have a terrible feeling in my gut. Something apocalyptic is happening on Midgard right now."
"But you told me Midgard has great, noble warriors you can trust, did you not?" Sif asked gently. She didn't press the real issue—she knew he was implicitly worried about the mortal, Jane Foster, but she allowed him his pride.
"Yes. The Avengers will fight to their last breath to protect Earth," Thor nodded, his grip tightening on the stone railing. "But I constantly wonder if they are currently bleeding for a cause they cannot win without my hammer. If only the Bifrost were fully operational..."
Several months ago, Thor had returned to Asgard with Loki and the Tesseract. Odin had immediately harnessed the near-infinite cosmic energy of the Space Stone to begin the arduous process of rebuilding the shattered Rainbow Bridge. Once completed, Asgard could finally project its protective influence back across the Nine Realms.
But Thor was growing incredibly impatient.
A heavy set of footsteps echoed behind them. A god clad in brilliant blue and silver armor approached the terrace. He possessed long, flowing golden hair, much like Thor's, and carried an aura of absolute, radiant light.
Thor turned, mildly surprised. "Balder? What is it?"
Balder the Brave stopped, his expression grave. "The All-Father sent me to find you, brother. The repairs to the Rainbow Bridge are complete. The gateway is open." Balder placed a heavy hand on Thor's shoulder. "Midgard is under a catastrophic siege. Odin has ordered you to deploy immediately and rescue the mortal realm. But you must go to the throne room first. Our father has something crucial to tell you before you depart."
Thor didn't hesitate. He set his untouched goblet of mead down on the railing.
He reached his hand out over the terrace. With a deafening crack of thunder, the legendary hammer, Mjolnir, ripped through the sky and slammed firmly into his palm.
"I will go at once."
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