As Tony directed his repulsor blasts to another part of the battlefield, once an airport now turned to chaos, Wanda faced Vision, her glowing red eyes alive with the power of her reality-altering abilities. Vision, ever the composed sentinel, stood immovable before her, his emotionless gaze methodically assessing her for any vulnerabilities or forthcoming attacks.
Wanda raised her hand with deliberate focus, a swirling crimson mist coalescing around her arms and weaving through her fingers. Behind Vision, a stationary truck began to shimmer ominously, enveloped in the scarlet energy she commanded. In one swift motion, Wanda flicked her fingers, and the truck hurtled toward Vision with explosive momentum, appearing like a meteor on a reversed trajectory.
As the truck neared Vision's back, his form suddenly became intangible, allowing the vehicle to phase harmlessly through him. Before the truck could vanish from reach, Vision solidified his body once more, seizing the truck by its cab frame. Demonstrating calculated precision, he spun on his axis, hurling the vehicle back at Wanda with formidable force.
As the truck approached Wanda, time seemed to stretch, and in the distance, a blur of motion streaked toward her with an otherworldly speed that defied all logic.
BAM!
The truck collided with the spot where Wanda had been standing, but Vision turned his head to see her in a different location, cradled in the arms of her brother, Quicksilver, who was glaring at Vision with intense hostility.
"You tried to harm my sister!" Quicksilver growled through clenched teeth, his piercing eyes locked on the android.
"Pietro... I'm fine, you can put me down now!" Scarlet Witch interjected, her face flushing crimson with embarrassment as she added, "I'm not a little girl anymore, okay!" As her words trailed off, Quicksilver gently set her down, his expression softening as he turned to her.
"It's a family's duty to look out for one another, isn't it?" he remarked, patting Wanda affectionately on the top of her head and offering her a warm smile.
Vision hovered above the ravaged airfield, his synthetic gaze methodically surveying the volatile battlefield. His expression remained serene, yet every micro-servo beneath his advanced exterior shifted in preparation. A faint glow pulsed through the experimental device embedded in his forehead, a sophisticated power core radiating controlled precision rather than a cosmic artifact.
The scorched ground still smoldered from where he had flung the truck just moments earlier. Across the fractured asphalt, Wanda Maximoff stood rigid, her crimson aura swirling chaotically with unstable energy. Each labored breath she took bent the air around her, reality itself quivering as though stretched to its limits.
"Step aside, Vision," Wanda demanded, her voice soft yet trembling with a surge of emotion. "You have no idea what you're interfering with."
Vision inclined his head slightly, his tone measured and calm. "You are unpredictable when uncertain," he observed, his words devoid of malice. "I am here to prevent further harm, to anyone."
Her brow tightened, a flash of shame flickering behind her anger. "Do you think I want to lose control?"
"Intent," Vision replied, descending gracefully until his boots met the cracked ground with a muted thunk, "does not absolve the consequences."
Her hands tensed, and the energy coalescing around them darkened from red to an almost black hue, sparking with erratic, chaotic arcs. Behind Vision, a forklift trembled as it levitated off the ground, groaning under the strain of her telekinetic grip. Her jaw quivered as she fought for control, but the object twisted and buckled violently in midair.
Then—
WHOOSH!
A streak of silver tore through the haze, accompanied by the familiar roar of displaced air. Vision's sensors flared in warning mere milliseconds before impact.
CRACK!
Pietro's fist collided with the side of Vision's faceplate, snapping his head sharply to the side with a metallic reverberation. Before Vision could complete his recalibration sequence, another blow struck his abdomen, followed by a rapid succession of hits. Each impact resonated like distant thunder.
"Not so composed now, huh, tin man?" Pietro taunted, his voice distorted into echoes as he zipped around Vision in rapid, mocking loops.
Vision pivoted smoothly, shifting his density mid-turn to allow one of Pietro's strikes to phase harmlessly through him. "You confuse speed with strategy," he remarked, his tone calm and precise.
"Oh yeah? Let's see how much strategy helps when you can't even see me!"
A smirk spread across Pietro's face as he accelerated, transforming into a blur of light and motion. Dust swirled around Vision in a spiraling cyclone, shrouding everything in a haze of gray and silver. From within the whirlwind, Pietro's voice punctuated the chaos:
THUD!
A strike to the ribs.
THWACK!
A jab to the shoulder.
BANG!
A kick that sent Vision sliding backward, his boots scraping against fractured asphalt.
Wanda's hands hovered midair, trembling as she tried to intervene but faltered. Her heart pounded with every beat. Any slip of control could unleash another catastrophic surge.
"I can't... not again…"
Vision straightened methodically, the servos in his neck whining faintly as he realigned his head. His eyes flicked briefly toward Wanda before locking onto the streak of motion encircling him. "Your speed is indeed impressive," he acknowledged, recalibrating his sensors. "But even velocity follows a rhythm."
WHAM!
Vision solidified his density in an instant, swinging his arm through the blur and connecting with force. Pietro's body slammed into a wall of synthetic muscle, the impact hurling him backward through a baggage cart, splintering the metal on impact. He rolled across the ground, groaning, but quickly rose to his feet, spitting blood with a grin. "Lucky shot," he taunted.
"I do not believe in luck," Vision said, stepping forward with calculated precision.
Before he could press his advantage, Wanda snapped.
"ENOUGH!"
Her scream tore through the air, raw and trembling. Crimson chaos erupted from her body in a spiraling burst, crashing into Vision like an unstoppable tidal wave. The telekinetic force hurled him backward, smashing him through a concrete barrier. Dust and debris filled the air as the structure crumbled.
Wanda's chest heaved, her glowing red eyes burning with intensity. "Don't touch him!" she cried out, her voice cracking between fury and desperation.
From the rubble, Vision emerged unharmed but visibly unsettled. His body phased through the debris, the edges of his form flickering as he recalibrated. "You wield far more power than you comprehend, Wanda," he said, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency. "But power without control—"
"Spare me your lecture!" she interrupted, thrusting her hands forward. Red energy surged once more, twisting into a vortex that tore the ground apart as it barreled toward him.
Vision countered, phasing through the initial assault and solidifying just long enough to snatch a chunk of airborne asphalt and hurl it back. Wanda shattered it with a flick of her wrist, the fragments disintegrating into sparks as they collided with her barrier.
In a blur, Pietro was back in motion. He struck from behind Vision with a sharp elbow to the back of the head and vanished before Vision could react. Then he reappeared, landing a knee to the ribs, followed by a punch to the jaw. His movements were chaotic, a deliberate unpredictability in his attacks.
"You don't get to hurt my sister!" he shouted, his voice distorted by his speed.
Vision's patience wore thin. "You are interrupting a correctional process," he said coldly. Adjusting his density mid-combat, he synchronized his movements with perfect mathematical precision. Pietro landed another strike, only for Vision to phase and then instantly re-solidify, delivering a calculated backhand that caught the speedster square in the face.
CRACK!
Pietro crashed to the ground, skidding across the dirt before coming to a halt. His breathing was labored, his speed impaired by the electromagnetic interference Vision had subtly introduced to the field, disrupting him just enough to slow him down.
Wanda's panic surged as she rushed toward Pietro, her hands glowing with energy, tears streaming down her face. "Pietro! Get up!"
He propped himself up on one knee, wiping blood from his lip. "I'm fine," he muttered, forcing a grin. "Just... give me a moment..."
Vision stepped forward, his tone soft yet resolute. "You both need to stop. This is not control... It's chaos."
Wanda's power ignited again, surging brighter, the crimson glow seeping into her eyes. Her voice was low, trembling with fury as she hissed: "Then perhaps chaos is what you deserve."
The earth beneath her cracked apart, releasing a tempest of scarlet energy that spiraled like a vortex, pulling everything in its wake. Vision stood firm, his body flickering between solid and intangible states, analyzing, recalculating. For the first time, uncertainty shadowed his expression.
In the distance, the rumble of another battle rolled like distant thunder.
Tony's HUD lit up in a glaring crimson as the impact alert blared through his visor as Tony was preparing to unleash his repulsor blast on Bucky.
"IMPACT DETECTED."
The ground tilted violently beneath him. Metal screamed in protest as the earth surged upward. Captain America collided with him like a missile, sending both men crashing across the shattered concrete.
Mid-roll, Tony's thrusters ignited in a desperate attempt to stabilize, but the unrelenting weight of Steve's shield slammed him back down with a resounding metallic crash that echoed through the deserted terminal.
Sparks erupted like a swarm of fireflies as Tony's armor scraped against the jagged asphalt.
"God, dammit, Steve!" Tony growled, shoving a repulsor between them. A surge of blue-white energy burst forth, hurling Steve away in an explosive flash. Cap landed in a crouch, shield poised, chest heaving, his jaw set with determination.
Tony pushed himself upright, his armor hissing and venting steam as his gaze locked on Steve. The airstrip, once pristine, had devolved into a wasteland of destruction, fractured asphalt, smoldering vehicles, and the shattered remnants of a bond that once felt unbreakable.
Nearby, Bucky struggled to his feet, clutching his bruised shoulder. The metal of his Soviet-era prosthetic groaned under strain, its surface scarred with dents and sparking wires. His expression was etched with guilt and pain, a reflection of the weight he carried.
Tony's armored hand rose, the repulsor glowing with deadly intent. The hum intensified, casting a stark light over Bucky's haunted face.
"You killed my mom," Tony said, his voice devoid of emotion, not a shout, not a tremble, but a cold and final judgment.
Bucky remained silent. His throat worked as though to speak, but no words emerged. His jaw tightened, a resigned acceptance in his stance as though he had anticipated this moment.
Tony's hand trembled, the repulsor's rising whine building into a deafening shriek. But as Steve placed himself directly in front of Bucky, the charge faltered. A wave of betrayal crashed over Tony, cutting deeper than any physical wound. Seeing someone he had considered a friend, almost a brother, stand in defense of the man responsible for tearing his family apart left him utterly shaken.
For a moment, the air was heavy with silence. A silence more devastating than any sound could ever be.
Tony's voice broke through the comms, raw and strained. "Don't make me do this, Steve. Please!"
Steve's grip on the shield wavered for a fleeting moment. "He wasn't in control. He didn't have a choice—"
"Don't you dare say that!" Tony bellowed, his repulsors flaring to life as he launched forward like a missile. The scorching wind and heat left seared marks on the ground beneath him.
The shield rose just in time.
The repulsor beam smashed into it, a shockwave shattering the tarmac and spraying shards of asphalt in every direction. Steve planted his feet, his muscles quaking under the force, the brilliant blue light of the beam dancing in his eyes like a lightning storm.
Tony showed no mercy.
He fired again, and again, each blast a visceral scream of rage, and guilt, condensed into raw energy.
Steve pressed forward through the relentless assault, his shield absorbing the impacts until he finally closed the distance. The collision reverberated like thunder as he drove the shield into Tony's chestplate, sparks erupting in all directions. Tony staggered back, gritting his teeth, and retaliated with a savage uppercut from his gauntlet, striking Steve's jaw with a metallic crack that echoed like a gunshot.
Steve hit the ground hard but rolled instinctively, springing back to his feet in an instant, the soldier's training deeply ingrained. Tony followed up with another repulsor blast, but Steve angled his shield with precision, deflecting the beam into a nearby hangar door. The resulting explosion roared, engulfing the battlefield in a fiery glow.
They clashed once more, fists, shield, gauntlets, and raw fury colliding in a storm of combat.
Tony's attacks were precise, calculated, and relentless, each strike a testament to his desperation and engineering genius. Steve's counters, however, were instinctive, disciplined, and driven by unwavering conviction rather than anger.
In one swift motion, Tony caught the edge of Steve's shield mid-swing, twisting it with mechanical force as his thrusters roared to life. He used the momentum to hurl Steve through a weakened pillar, which groaned under the impact before collapsing. Steve crashed to the ground, coughing through the cloud of dust that rose around him.
Tony's repulsor hummed as it powered up, aimed directly at Steve's vulnerable chest. His voice cracked as he shouted, "Why did you side with him, Steve?! You knew what he did to my parents, you knew!"
Steve raised his head, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with pain and unyielding determination. "Because… he's my friend."
Tony's lip quivered, his expression shattering with emotion. "So was I."
The repulsor beam fired, but the shield intercepted it mid-blast. Steve surged forward, spinning with all the strength he could muster, and drove the vibranium shield into Tony's chestplate. The impact dented the armor and sent Tony hurtling into the side of a jet fuselage, the metal screeching and buckling under the force of the collision.
As the two of them clashed, another fated battle was beginning nearby.
The air shimmered with heat and tension as focus narrowed on the ruined airstrip. Black Panther crouched low, muscles taut like a predator ready to strike, his claws momentarily sheathed within his gloves. Every movement he made was deliberate, fluid, and deadly. Opposite him, Bucky Barnes steadied himself, his metal arm still emitting faint sparks from the earlier clash. Though battered and bruised, his stance remained defiant.
The two combatants stood mere yards apart, surrounded by a desolate landscape of twisted asphalt and smoking debris. Molten shards of metal glimmered amidst the chaos like embers in the gloom. For a long, charged moment, neither moved. Their eyes locked, breaths slow and calculated, each silently measuring the other's strength and resolve.
Without warning, Black Panther surged forward, his body a blur as he aimed low toward Bucky's midsection. Bucky reacted instinctively, raising his metal arm to block the strike. The impact reverberated through his frame, sending jolts of pain up his shoulder. Black Panther pressed his advantage, unleashing a rapid flurry of precise jabs designed to probe and exploit weaknesses in Bucky's defense.
Driven back by the relentless assault, Bucky struggled to adapt, each blow forcing him to recalibrate. Summoning his strength, he swung a powerful hook toward Panther's head, but the Wakandan warrior evaded with a graceful roll, using the motion to propel himself into a lightning-fast leg sweep. Bucky barely managed to leap over the strike, his good foot scraping the ground in the effort.
"You're fast," Bucky muttered, his breath labored as his metal fingers flexed in readiness.
"And you're finished," Black Panther replied, his voice calm and measured, yet laced with a menacing edge.
Once again, they collided with unrelenting force, fists and boots crashing, metal meeting flesh. Black Panther's unmatched speed and agility granted him a slight advantage; every time Bucky lunged forward, he found himself just a fraction too slow, unable to keep up with Panther's fluid movements. Yet, Bucky's metal arm provided him with a resilience beyond human limits, each parry and counterstrike earning him invaluable moments to recalibrate.
Black Panther's blows were precise and deliberate, more a measure of Bucky's capabilities than a relentless barrage. However, Bucky's battle-hardened instincts and sheer grit kept him firmly in the fight. With a fierce swing, he forced Panther to retreat momentarily, but in the blink of an eye, Panther was on the move again, circling with the calculating focus of a predator.
Sweat mingled with grime as the intensity of their clash grew. Each combatant landed strikes and fended off attacks, the tension escalating with every exchange. Panther's marginal superiority became evident, his movements carried a rhythm and efficiency that Bucky struggled to counter, but Bucky's unyielding determination kept him from faltering. His jaw set, his unwavering gaze locked onto his opponent, Bucky remained prepared to exploit the slightest opportunity.
A haze of dust enveloped them as the battle continued, boots scraping against shattered asphalt, fists and elbows striking in a brutal, almost choreographed conflict. Panther's speed and precision afforded him a delicate upper hand, but Bucky's indomitable spirit and the strength of his metal arm ensured he remained in the game, compelling both fighters to push the boundaries of their skills and endurance.
The battle continued with the sound of Black Panther unsheathing his deadly vibranium claws.