Strange watched as Wanda's crimson energy trail vanished into the storm-blackened sky. With a resolute breath, he turned to Wong. "I'm going to the London Sanctum."
"I'm with you," Wong affirmed immediately, his stoic presence a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of their new reality.
Seeing them prepare to depart, Pietro hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty on his face. "What about me? What should I do?"
Strange placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering a weary smile. "For now? Rest."
Pietro's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Okay," he mumbled. "To be honest, I am a little tired."
The Ancient One, however, remained still, her gaze fixed on the distant storm. Her mystical senses perceived another threat brewing, a second fire beginning to smolder while all eyes were on the first. "Pietro," she commanded, her voice cutting through his momentary self-pity. "Your speed is needed. Go to Tony Stark. Tell him the fire elemental is about to awaken. It will emerge from the heart of a volcano."
The speedster lit up, a mission finally his to own. "On it!"
He slapped his pockets for his phone, only to find it gone—lost somewhere in the temporal chaos. With a frustrated sigh, he simply vanished. A silver blur shot from the rooftop, streaking across the New York skyline toward Stark Tower at a speed that defied physics.
Moments later, he skidded to a halt inside the executive lobby, the residual energy of his sprint sending a whirlwind of documents fluttering across the floor. The staff, their memories of the recent emergency wiped clean by the reversal of time, simply stared in mild annoyance, completely unaware that their world had just been saved. Not finding Happy at the security desk, Pietro made a beeline for the top floor.
He materialized in Pepper Potts' office with a crackle of static electricity. She was buried in quarterly reports and let out a startled yelp, nearly jumping out of her chair.
Seeing who it was, she pressed a hand to her chest, her heart hammering. "Pietro! Good heavens, give a girl some warning. What is it?"
He leaned against the wall, catching his breath from the cross-city sprint. "Pepper… contact Tony. Now," he gasped. "Tell him… the fire elemental. It's about to break ground."
"The fire elemental?" Pepper's eyes widened as the reality of the Avengers' battle came crashing back. "Right. Okay!" She didn't hesitate, grabbing her phone and frantically dialing Tony's number.
On the battlefield in the sky, the situation had grown dire. The tornado's wind speed had surpassed 322 kilometers per hour and was still climbing, a monument to destruction. On the ground below, the towns they had been trying to protect were gone, scoured from the face of the Earth by the horrifying storm. There were no survivors. The barren, scarred ground was a testament to the elemental's terrifying power, and its zone of devastation was already beginning to spread.
"I can't maintain the beam!" Rhodes yelled, his voice strained. "Systems are critical!"
Smoke now poured from the overloaded repulsor emitter on his chest, and his HUD was a frantic collage of red warning lights. His armor, supercharged with divine power, had given all it had.
"Damn it! It's having no effect!" he cursed, pulling back. He stared at the colossal tornado with a sense of utter futility. The elemental was no longer a stationary target. It was moving, maneuvering with a chilling tactical awareness that kept it just out of Carol's effective range.
She watched it drift away, her teeth gritted in frustration. Even as the distance grew, the pressure of the storm didn't lessen. It was a bizarre, unnatural equilibrium; if she relaxed for even a second, she would be thrown back or, worse, sucked into the vortex. The sheer power of the entity was beyond anything she had encountered in her cosmic travels—a raw, corrupting force that defied comprehension.
Thor watched Carol's stalemate, then glanced down at the complete annihilation where a town once stood. A cold fury settled in his heart. If this creature wasn't stopped, the entire continent would be next. He made a decision. Tilting his head back, he looked not just to the sky, but to the stars beyond, and bellowed with the full power of his divine voice.
"HEIMDALL! OPEN THE BIFROST! TARGET THE ELEMENTAL'S CORE!"
In his golden observatory in Asgard, Heimdall had been watching. He saw the devastation, saw Carol's struggle, and understood. Asgard would not stand idle. With solemn purpose, he drew his greatsword, Hofund, and plunged it into the central console. The cosmic machinery began to whir and rotate, aiming the realm's ultimate power across the vastness of space.
Rhodes glanced at Thor in astonishment, the thunderous command barely audible over the storm. The Bifrost? He knew it was a teleporter, but as a weapon?
Before he could voice his doubt, the sky broke open again. A pinprick of impossible color appeared in the dark clouds, widening into a brilliant, cascading pillar of light. A bridge of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple slammed down from the heavens like the focused wrath of a god, piercing the swirling black tornado.
"What is that?!" Rhodes stared, his jaw slack, as the spectacular Rainbow Bridge plunged into the storm.
"THAT, COLONEL, IS THE WRATH OF ASGARD!" Thor roared over the din. "IT IS A BRIDGE BETWEEN WORLDS, AND A WEAPON THAT CAN UNMAKE THEM!"
Fury, watching from S.W.O.R.D. headquarters, filed that terrifying piece of intel away for later. Right now, all that mattered was results.
The elemental reeled under the cosmic assault. It desperately pulled the dark, Dormammu-blessed clouds around its core, forming a shield of pure darkness that boiled and hissed where the Bifrost struck. The two energies clashed—the pure cosmic power of the bridge versus the corrupting magic of the Dark Dimension—and for a moment, the shield held.
But as the elemental focused all its defenses, the sky above began to clear, the sun finally breaking through. Rhodes let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his visual sensors finally recalibrating.
Thor watched with unwavering confidence. The Bifrost would break through. It had to.
Sensing its impending doom, the elemental unleashed one final, terrifying surge of power. The tornado, already spinning at 350 kilometers per hour, became a blur. It began pulling in atmosphere from hundreds of kilometers away. On satellite displays, meteorologists would later stare in disbelief as cloud formations from half a continent away moved in unnatural, sweeping patterns, converging on the single point where a god's fury was tearing a hole in the sky.
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