Hal shot forward like a missile, his fist cutting through the air straight at the Vision-drone's head. The drone raised a hand to block, but Hal's punch smashed through the arm like it was paper. His fist connected squarely with the drone's face, the impact echoing like a cannon blast.
Despite the force behind it, the blow barely dented the synthezoid's vibranium skull—one of the strongest metals on Earth.
Before the drone could recover, a swirling portal burst open beside it. Illyana leapt through, Soulsword raised high, and swung with brutal strength. The blade hit the drone's hip, sending the machine flying across the field like a wrecked drone caught in an explosion.
Before it could hit the ground, Hal slammed his hands to the ground. Thick green chains erupted from the earth, wrapping around all of the Vision-drone's limbs. As the body slammed into the ground, Hal willed the chains to pull, yanking in opposite directions with raw force.
With a harsh metallic shriek, the drone's arms and legs tore free, sparks and synthetic fluids bursting out.
Hal and Illyana didn't have time to celebrate.
Before their eyes, silver nanotech tendrils crawled from the torn stumps, rebuilding the lost limbs in seconds. In less than a minute, the Vision-drone stood again—whole, relentless, and entirely unfazed.
Hal cracked his knuckles, feeling the dull ache from punching vibranium. "Target the arms and legs," he said to Illyana through gritted teeth. "They're the weak spots. They're not made of vibranium."
"And if he keeps regenerating?" Illyana asked, tightening her grip on her sword.
"Then we keep breaking him," Hal muttered. "Until the Avengers show up and help us."
"Or they join him," Illyana said dryly.
The drone raised its hands again, repulsors flaring. A barrage of energy blasts rained down. Hal absorbed some into his body, the glow around him intensifying. Illyana, with quick precision, slashed through the rest with her Soulsword, each blast breaking harmlessly against her magical blade.
Neither of them was touched.
Hal launched himself forward once more. Conjuring thick, long energy needles to his sides, he hurled them at the Vision-drone, aiming for the vulnerable joints.
But the machine had learned.
At the last second, the drone twisted its body, letting the needles slam into its vibranium-plated back. The needles shattered on impact, fragments vanishing like dust.
Hal didn't hesitate. He conjured a slick, frictionless patch of ground beneath him and slid with blinding speed toward the drone. In one motion, he grabbed the robot's legs in both arms as he slid to the slide of the robot, making him fall frontwards.
Hal dismissed the slippery surface, summoned new chains from the ground, and wrapped them tight around the Vision-drone's torso. The chains snapped tight, slamming the machine into the dirt.
Roaring with effort, Hal yanked with everything he had. At the same time, Illyana summoned a portal above them. Its rim gleamed like a blade, and as the Vision-drone struggled, its arms reached upward—straight into the trap. The portal snapped shut like a guillotine, severing the drone's arms cleanly at the shoulders.
The Vision-drone's legs were torn from its body with a wrenching screech, and its severed arms clattered to the ground, sparking violently at the joints. Illyana kicked the arms away with a grunt, while Hal hurled the broken legs across the field.
Chains still bound the machine to the ground, thrashing as it struggled to move. Illyana, not wasting a second, drove her Soulsword down toward the drone's head, aiming to pierce through.
Clang!
The blade bounced off uselessly, the sound ringing across the night.
"How is this thing so damn impenetrable?!" Illyana shouted in frustration, her grip tightening on the sword.
Before Hal could answer, a mechanical whirring caught his attention. He looked down just in time to see the drone's chest plates split open, revealing a glowing arc reactor embedded in its core—the machine's heart.
Hal braced to attack—until realization struck him like lightning.
The drone hadn't exposed its weakness. It had opened its chest to unleash something far worse.
Electricity sparked wildly around the arc reactor, and Hal's instincts kicked in. He lunged at Illyana, grabbing her and throwing up a barrier just as a massive beam of pure energy erupted from the drone's chest.
The night sky lit up as if a second sun had burst into existence.
Hal's barrier shattered almost instantly under the force, but he absorbed the brunt of the blast with his own body, protecting Illyana. His shirt was burned away by the searing energy, smoke rising from his skin, but he stood firm.
Before he could recover, he felt a brutal grip around his legs.
The Vision-drone hurled him like a ragdoll, sending him crashing far across the battlefield, separated from Illyana.
Now unchallenged, the machine turned its focus to her.
The drone's hand shifted, morphing into a jagged sword-like blade. Boosters flared at its feet, propelling it forward with deadly speed.
Illyana barely had time to react. She raised her Soulsword in defense. The impact of the strike slammed into her, forcing her back. The ground tore apart beneath her boots, gouging a deep trench through the earth.
Gritting her teeth, she twisted sideways, sliding around the machine's side. With a precise slash, she crippled its boosters by slicing through its legs.
For a brief second, her face flickered—her eyes glowing, her expression shifting into something feral and horned, a demonic apparition slipping through the cracks.
But before the rage could fully take her, Hal was back.
He rocketed into the fray, grabbing the Vision-drone by the neck with both hands, hauling it bodily into the air.
Higher and higher they soared into the night sky, grappling midair.
Hal felt the machine tense, and he saw the chest plates open again, the arc reactor glowing violently, about to unleash another devastating blast.
Instead of fear, a wild grin spread across Hal's burned face.
"Gotcha, you motherfucker," he growled.
The unstable orange energy that had been crackling around him since the last blast flared out of control—and with a roar, Hal detonated, exploding in a brilliant cascade of energy, lighting up the sky like a New Year's firework.
—
As the remnants of Hal's explosion still shimmered in the sky like dying fireworks, the world below remained tense and electric. Sam, Roberto, and Dani were surrounded—green laser sights locked onto each of them from every direction.
Slowly, they stepped backward, instinctively keeping Dani between them, shielding her as they raised their hands in a mock surrender.
"Get down on the ground!" one of the agents barked. "Your friends have been incapacitated! Surrender now, and you won't be harmed!"
"You sure about that?" Roberto smirked, his voice dripping with defiance. "Looks to me like your robot's the one that just blew up."
The group of agents parted, making way for a man who strode forward with an air of authority. His uniform was sharper, cleaner—and his posture said everything about who was really in charge here.
"Vision is made of vibranium," the man said coldly. "That explosion won't be enough to destroy him."
"Seen plenty crazier'n this," Sam said easy-like. "Reckon I'll take my chances."
The man sighed heavily, as if tired of playing nice. "You're delusional. The Avengers will be here soon to arrest you. You thought you could run to them for protection?"
"I doubt Captain Rogers even knows what you're doing," Dani snapped. "Or do you not report war crimes to him?"
A flicker of irritation crossed the man's face. He clicked his tongue in disgust. "Enough talking. I offered you a peaceful surrender. You chose otherwise."
With that, he turned his back on them, retreating toward the safety of the armored vehicles.
The agents moved in, rifles raised, cuffs ready.
"Sam," Roberto muttered through clenched teeth. "Anytime now. If I Hulk out first, we're gonna get turned into swiss cheese."
"I know, I know, dang it!" Sam hissed, flexing his fingers.
A low, thrumming vibration began to hum from Sam's body, starting at his chest and rippling downward to his feet. The sound grew louder, a mechanical buzz filling the air. Guns snapped up in alarm, fingers tightening on triggers—
Too late.
Bullets erupted from every direction, but an invisible force field shimmered around Sam, deflecting the rounds effortlessly.
"Move!" Sam shouted.
On cue, Roberto and Dani dove to the sides. Sam launched himself forward, a living battering ram of kinetic force. He plowed through the agents with brutal momentum, tearing a deep trail through the dirt and grass. Smoke and dust billowed into the air as bodies were thrown left and right, weapons skittering across the ground.
Sam slid to a stop, breathing heavily from adrenaline, just a few feet from where he'd started.
"Nice!" Roberto whooped, flashing a grin. He spun to Dani. "Go! Get to the woods! I'll keep them distracted!"
Dani hesitated only for a second before nodding and sprinting toward the treeline.
Roberto took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Alright," he muttered. "Time to give 'em a real show."
He inhaled once, exhaled slowly, and let the power inside him rise.
The heat came first, rippling off Roberto's body in shimmering waves. His clothes ignited, burning away in seconds, but he made no sound—no cry, no scream. Instead, he stood tall as the fire consumed him.
The flames grew brighter, almost blinding, until suddenly they darkened into an oppressive, searing black. His skin turned the color of coal, and fire clung to him like a living thing. In the middle of the night, it looked as though a sunspot had torn through the sky and anchored itself to the ground.
The brilliant flare of his transformation created the perfect distraction. Dani slipped away unnoticed, vanishing into the forest as the agents' attention snapped back to the new threat.
Roberto rose into the air, propelled upward by swirling thermal currents. Against the night sky, he looked like a living specter—an omen of destruction. A flickering flame in the darkness, but he himself was the darkness.
Panic rippled through the agents. They scrambled back toward their armored vehicles, weapons firing wildly. Bullets struck Roberto's coal-black skin, but each round melted on contact, dripping harmlessly to the ground like raindrops of molten lead.
Across the field, Sam and Roberto locked eyes—and smiled.
Without hesitation, Sam reactivated his ability, his body buzzing with raw kinetic energy. With a sudden burst, he launched himself toward the lead armored vehicle. The impact was catastrophic—the heavy transport flipped backward onto its roof, the reinforced steel armor crumpling like paper, agents inside groaning and stunned.
Meanwhile, Roberto arced high above, hands glowing with dangerous intensity. He hurled two concentrated blasts of thermokinetic energy at the rear convoy vehicles. The engines exploded on contact, fireballs erupting into the night and reducing the trucks to smoking wrecks. Twisted metal littered the road, blocking any chance of retreat.
Trapped between wreckage and two unstoppable forces, the remaining agents froze in fear.
Inside one of the middle vehicles, the commanding officer—the man who had tried to talk them down—sat heavily in his seat. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he watched the chaos unfold outside his window.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, groaning under his breath.
"They're just kids," he muttered bitterly. "Kids..."
—
About fifteen minutes before the confrontation with SWORD began, Natasha Romanoff was in the kitchen of the Avengers Compound, assembling a simple sandwich. Across the room, Steve Rogers leaned against the counter, laundry bag slung over one shoulder from his weekly visit.
"I'd offer something fancier, but I'm no gourmet chef," Natasha said dryly, sliding the sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.
Steve chuckled, accepting the plate. "Trust me, I'm not looking for a five-star meal tonight."
Natasha smirked, then set to work on making a second sandwich for herself. They both sat down at the dining table, the quiet comfort between them stretching a few peaceful moments longer before Steve broke it.
"How's everything been?" he asked, voice casual but carrying a current of real concern. "With the team?"
"Oh, the usual," Natasha replied, shrugging. "There's been a string of killings in New York. Rhodey's handling the investigation."
Steve's brows knitted together. "Barton?"
Natasha's hands paused briefly before she shook her head. "Too soon to say, but it feels... unlikely. Besides, Frank Castle's still running around New York."
"Different weapons, different style," Steve mused.
"Exactly," Natasha sighed. "We're still sorting it out. What about you? How's counseling?"
"Well enough," Steve said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Some of the guys are finally moving on. Building new lives instead of clinging to the past."
"That's good," Natasha said, the faintest smile flickering across her face. "Must be nice."
Their moment was interrupted by a sharp beeping sound from the table. Natasha tapped the surface, and a holographic message appeared, displaying a man clad in tactical gear.
"This is Director Tyler Hayward of the Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division," the man said with an authoritative voice. "We have detected six hostile individuals within your vicinity. Requesting Avengers support to ensure their detainment. Repeat: Requesting immediate assistance—"
Natasha cut the message off with a swift tap.
"Sounds serious. Let's move." She stood up quickly.
Steve's frown deepened. "The what division?"
"S.W.O.R.D.," Natasha explained briskly. "They're Air Force-backed. They're the ones who took Vision's body for research."
"What?" Steve's jaw tightened. "I thought Vision was buried."
Natasha shook her head grimly. "Billions of dollars' worth of vibranium, Steve. They weren't about to leave it in the ground. I can't do anything about it."
Steve stood as well, already sliding into battle mode. "We'll talk about this later. Suit up."
Before either of them could move, a deafening explosion rocked the ground beneath them. They sprinted to the window just in time to see a dazzling eruption of lights outside—like fireworks tearing open the night sky.
Steve stared, tense. "What is happening out there?"
"I don't know." Natasha's frown deepened. "But we'd better find out."
As they turned to leave, a crash from the opposite side of the room made them spin around. The window shattered inward, glass scattering across the floor. Instinctively, Natasha reached under the table, retrieving a hidden sidearm and leveling it at the breach.
They approached carefully. Amid the broken glass lay a bloodied wolf, whimpering in pain. Before their eyes, the creature's form began to shift—bones snapping, fur receding—until a girl, no older than fifteen, was left in its place, naked, trembling and bleeding.
Steve and Natasha exchanged a glance before slowly approaching.
The girl stirred, looking up at them with wide, desperate eyes. Blood streaked her matted hair from the broken glass, and her voice cracked as she spoke.
"Please," she gasped, "ye've gotta help us. They're tryin' tae... tae catch us. Maybe even kill us."
"Easy," Natasha said gently, grabbing a nearby blanket to wrap around her. She knelt down, covering the girl's trembling body. "Who's after you?"
"S.W.O.R.D.," the girl whispered hoarsely. "They're huntin' us... mutants..."
Steve's expression turned into more confusion. "Mutants? Nat, know anything about this?"
"Not at all," Natasha said grimly. She turned back to the girl. "Can you tell us everything you know?"
The girl nodded weakly, pulling the blanket tighter around her bloodied form.