High above the towering buildings, Tony Stark and Captain America stared down at Fenric.
They exchanged glances, and both could see the same shock in each other's eyes.
Jumping from the fifty-fifth floor without a single injury?
Terrifying.
Even Captain America, with his enhanced body, knew that if he were to fall from such a height, he would be left in pieces.
(In Captain America: The Winter Soldier, he only jumped from a dozen stories high—and that was already pushing the limit.)
"Stark, I don't think you're getting your armor back," the Captain said with a sigh.
Tony's jaw tightened, but he refused to respond.
He knew the Captain was probably right, but he wasn't about to admit it.
Above them, Loki had been watching everything with narrowed eyes.
To be honest, Loki was feeling uneasy.
Just as Fenric had left earlier, he had looked up—right at him.
Loki was certain that this mysterious man had noticed his presence.
Then why didn't he interfere?
Fenric had clearly said he would fight against Loki's forces, yet when he spotted Loki… he did nothing.
The God of Mischief couldn't make sense of this human's intentions, and that made him uncomfortable.
"Master! The portal is ready to open!"
Dr. Erik Selvig's excited voice broke Loki's thoughts.
Loki's eyes gleamed, his unease instantly forgotten. "Do it. Now."
"Yes, Master!"
Dr. Selvig immediately activated the Tesseract device.
"Ooooom—"
A powerful blue beam shot skyward, tearing through the clouds.
Moments later, a massive spatial rift opened in the sky above Manhattan.
Through the shimmering gateway, the outlines of countless Chitauri soldiers could be seen, lined up and ready to invade.
The sheer spectacle drew the attention of everyone in the city.
Even Tony and the Captain paled at the sight.
Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in Fenric's mind:
"Attention, all Samsara Players. The main mission has been issued!"
"Main Task: Kill at least 20 Chitauri soldiers within 10 hours!"
"Time Limit: 10 hours."
"Mission Failure: Obliteration!"
"Note: The more Chitauri you kill, the higher your mission evaluation will be."
Almost simultaneously, every Samsara players participant across New York received the same notification.
They had been preparing for this moment. One after another, they sprang into action.
But Fenric?
He did the opposite.
He calmly made his way to an abandoned villa, where he retrieved Mark VII and began his own preparations.
The Chitauri invasion didn't concern him—not yet.
"Ten hours is plenty of time," Fenric muttered. "Let the others burn themselves out. I'll strike hard when it matters most."
Mark VII was unlike any of the previous suits. Sleek, advanced, and versatile, its design resembled a flight capsule.
Fans of The Avengers would never forget the scene where Tony, thrown from Stark Tower by Loki, was saved mid-fall when Mark VII flew in, attached itself, and fully assembled around him.
Now, the Mark VII was right in front of Fenric.
The only problem?
He had no idea how to start it.
This wasn't his creation, after all.
After a moment of hesitation, Fenric simply pressed his hand on the armor.
No response.
He frowned. "Start?"
Click! Whirrr!
To his surprise, the armor responded to his voice command.
The entire suit lit up, mechanical components shifting and separating with smooth precision.
In seconds, the armor began to assemble itself over Fenric's body, piece by piece.
Within a few breaths, there was another Iron Man standing in the room—except this one was Fenric.
"Damn, this is awesome!" Fenric couldn't help exclaiming, turning his alloy-covered arms over in admiration.
No wonder Tony Stark had become so iconic.
A man's dream—mecha.
"Master, this is Zero, at your service," said a calm male voice in his ear.
It was the armor's built-in AI.
"Zero? Ugh, I don't want some guy's voice talking to me all day. Change to a female voice."
"Understood, Master," the voice shifted instantly into a soft, slightly playful tone. "Would this voice please you more?"
Fenric grinned. "Much better. But don't make it too cute—something normal."
"Okay, Master," the AI replied, adjusting its tone again.
"Perfect. Oh, and from now on, your name's not Zero. I'll call you… Tsunade!"
The name came from one of Fenric's favorite characters from an anime he loved in his past life.
"Acknowledged. Tsunade is at your service, Master," the AI responded.
Fenric laughed with satisfaction.
He began testing the armor's controls, familiarizing himself with its flight and combat systems.
"Tsunade, tell me about your weapons."
"Certainly, Master. The shoulder weapon bays can launch 92 micro-missiles simultaneously. Additional missile systems are located in the legs. Each arm is equipped with triple-barrel laser cannons, capable of emitting beams at over 3,000°C. The thrusters in both hands can double as repulsor energy cannons."
Fenric's smile widened. "Nice. Very nice."
Meanwhile, in Manhattan, New York—
The war for humanity's survival had begun.
The Chitauri swarmed out of the space-time portal like a relentless tide.
"Iron Man" Tony Stark, "Captain America" Steve Rogers, "Hawkeye" Clint Barton, and "Black Widow" Natasha Romanoff were already on the battlefield, fighting tooth and nail.
Thor, the God of Thunder, had also escaped his imprisonment to confront his "good" brother, Loki.
But the Hulk was still nowhere to be seen.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had believed these heroes were humanity's greatest hope against the alien invasion.
But they quickly realized something shocking—
The Samsaras.
A group of mysterious, powerful individuals had suddenly appeared all across Manhattan, slaughtering Chitauri soldiers with terrifying efficiency.
According to the original timeline, humanity had been utterly powerless against the Chitauri's technology and strength.
Without the Avengers, they would have been annihilated.
But now, these Samsara players—each one as strong as a superhuman—were turning the tide of battle.
Their desperation to earn high mission scores drove them to fight like madmen.
"Someone tell me… where did these people come from?!"
Loki's expression twisted as he watched from above.
For the first time, the God of Mischief felt a twinge of unease.