Chapter 186 - CHAPTER 186:The Coming of a New Era

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All of Qi Mu Nanxiong's clones moved in perfect sync before vanishing—some shooting into the sky, others phasing underground—with no ripple in space, no tremor in the ground, just silence followed by instantaneous disappearance.

This moment, captured by Jarvis and broadcast globally, became a historical event etched into the collective memory of humanity.

To the watching world, these so-called "rescuers" from Chaldea remained a mystery; their powers, their origins—all unclear—but soon, awe brought clarity.

Several clones of Qi Mu Nanxiong clashed with enemy forces at hypersonic velocities, appearing beside alien warships with unnerving ease, dismantling them within seconds, and then vanishing toward their next target. To the naked eye, it was chaos incarnate—streaks of light cutting through the sky, explosions of fire igniting in bursts, and raining metal descending like divine judgment—as if comets themselves were disassembling an entire fleet.

Observers couldn't track the Chaldeans' movements, only watching as skyborne infernos bloomed and alien alloy debris rained like steel hail onto the broken city below.

It was terrifying; it was beautiful.

People stood dazed, unable to react until the flaming remains of battleships crashed thunderously before them.

"Take cover, now!" came the desperate cry, as soldiers and civilians—many still evacuating near what remained of the Vatican stronghold—scrambled into motion, panic overtaking their limbs. But before even a shard of shrapnel could strike, Qi Mu Nanxiong raised his hand casually, halting every metallic fragment midair before diverting them forcefully, encasing the humans within a translucent telekinetic barrier impervious to destruction.

"Are these all your people?" Tony's voice broke through the wind as he flew in beside Shen He, his gaze locked in disbelief on the sky-wide suppression unfolding above. "Why didn't you call them out sooner?"

This wasn't just Tony's question—it echoed in the hearts of everyone watching. Even the Chitauri, once perceived as a galactic threat, were falling like flimsy cardboard; it felt absurd, like someone holding a hidden ace yet choosing to take punches first.

Shen He's voice came from behind his dragon-inscribed mask, weary and heavy with truth. "Because the cost is immense. Support from headquarters requires high-tier authorization and significant payment. Even then, their deployment time is limited. Tony—you remember what I said about my deployments."

"…Right," Tony muttered, falling into silence as he recalled Shen He vaguely mentioning that his interdimensional missions yielded great resources, but only within brief, timed bursts—a rule that clearly applied to this overwhelming support force as well.

Tony's curiosity about Chaldea burned hotter than ever.

General Fury and General Ross exchanged glances, each reading the caution in the other's expression. But with Shen He visibly drained and in no mood for interrogation, neither dared push the issue further.

The mere presence of thirty to forty Chaldean personnel stationed in this world alone proved they could, without question, overthrow any existing national power.

For all those watching—from world governments to the few remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. loyalists—this display became the clearest glimpse yet into Chaldea's terrifying strength.

Whether it was the stoic, bald mage standing atop Mount Kunlun, the other bald commander intercepting enemy comms from the Chitauri mothership, or even the distant galaxy's throne where a bald overlord radiated transcendent aura in total stillness—this shared pattern of calm dominance sparked equal parts reverence and unease.

Maybe baldness was Chaldea's uniform.

For the Chitauri Commander—Thanos' subordinate—the prevailing emotion was dread. His fleet was being dismantled piece by piece, his lieutenants captured, and the Tesseract recovery operation—his singular mission—teetered precariously on the edge of failure.

Contacting his master was unthinkable, because he understood Thanos's stance on failure—there was no mercy, only oblivion.

Shen He, meanwhile, remained unconcerned with his enemy's psychological unraveling. He had just completed another deception layered in reality—a technique he had refined during the Aleister incident—and now stood aboard the Helicarrier, suspended above the storm-ravaged Vatican skyline, escorted by a clone of Qi Mu Nanxiong.

This clone possessed full access to the original's psychic, gravitational, and probability-altering powers, making it less chaotic than Aleister's infinite-minds theory but still potent enough to strike wariness even in the strongest Inhumans or mutants.

Shen He stood at the edge of the flight deck, watching as his forces cleansed the battlefield below, recognizing that even though Marvel Earth was riddled with anomalies, glitches, and literal cosmic bugs—Qi Shen himself remained a walking contradiction to natural law.

And with Chaldea's capability to summon operatives from multiversal records, it was clear they had barely begun tapping into their true arsenal.

Perhaps now was the right time to say it: this journey… is a voyage toward the endless sea of stars.

"Master, they're retreating," Jeanne's voice called from behind him, light but fierce, as the wind whipped around her silver armor and her blue eyes shimmered with a rare optimism, because even a temporary victory offered a momentary reprieve from death.

"Did we... win?"

"Seems so."

"They're really pulling back to the other side of the rift?"

"Yes," Shen He answered, turning his head back.

Someone—maybe Star-Lord—suggested over comms, "Can we throw a victory party now?"

"…"

Voices filled the radio—Tony, Steve, even Fury joining in—relief seeping into every word.

One by one, as the hour passed, the Qi Mu clones began fading—returning just as silently as they had arrived.

"Hubby, Violet, come here," Shen He called softly, waving over the two girls. Violet's violet eyes were heavy with fatigue, having overexerted herself, and both she and Hubby had performed beyond expectations—second only to Qi Mu in their impact on the battlefield.

"Thank you," Shen He said, gently brushing the dust and alien ichor from Violet's golden hair before raising his head again.

Above, the rift still pulsed.

"The war isn't over yet," he said, his voice dropping into the comms like a guillotine.

Everyone went quiet, because they understood instantly: Shen He was right—this was no conclusion.

"Jarvis," Shen He said, "put me on the global broadcast."

The screen shifted instantly.

Shen He stood on the Helicarrier's deck, his sinister armor retracted, surrounded by the bloodstained warriors of Chaldea—even the pale skin of Hubby, her lavender hair whipping in the high-altitude wind, was smeared with alien blood, creating a strange, divine image of innocence fused with destruction.

"The alien army has retreated—for now," Shen He began, his voice calm yet commanding. "But the rift—the channel to the new world—remains open. The enemy watches from beyond, ready to regroup."

The camera panned upward.

For the first time in Earth's history, the entire world saw it clearly—a vortex hovering in the clouds, and on its far side, a shadowy cosmos filled with black motherships and slithering mechanical dragons, all cloaked in silence but poised to descend.

"This is the true face of our universe," Shen He continued, his tone unwavering. "Endless stars. Infinite war. Across the void, civilizations rise through conquest—and fall through arrogance."

People stared, frozen.

"Yet humanity has been fortunate. We've survived—not because of strength, but through protection. Asgard's Bifrost once shielded this planet. Hidden forces like the Ancient One's Sanctum and others have silently guarded our fragile world."

Thor, now standing beside Shen He, met his gaze with a grateful nod, acknowledging that this entire catastrophe had begun with Loki—and the shame of Asgard's involvement weighed heavily upon him.

But then Shen He's voice turned colder.

"However," he said, "Asgard is not omnipotent. One rebellious prince—Loki—shattered the Rainbow Bridge, crippled Asgard's greatest weapon, and plunged the Nine Realms into chaos. Earth was left exposed. The invasion began. And where was Asgard?"

Thor's jaw clenched as silence hung around him; he remembered the war-torn Nine Realms, the delayed mobilization of reinforcements, and the desperate struggle to repair the bridge using Earth's Tesseract—all of it true.

"These are facts," Thor finally admitted, his voice steady. "But I'll do what I can to stop further war."

His honesty, rare among kings, spoke volumes.

And at that moment, the public understood—Asgard, despite its warriors and grandeur, could not save them.

Only one faction could.

Chaldea.

Shen He had aligned the sequence of events perfectly. The world now understood the truth.

"Before war arrives, it's already here," Shen He said, his voice rising with purpose. "Chaldea may not be a nation, but we will defend humanity. However, we need a united Earth."

He turned slowly toward the camera.

"For too long, we've bled from within. Infighting. Distrust. Sabotage. But the cosmos doesn't care. The enemy doesn't care."

"The entire Earth is now one tribe."

"And the new era—has begun."

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