"This has to be the work of Spider-Man! I don't want excuses, I don't want arguments, this is his fault!"
The cry echoed throughout the offices of the Daily Bugle, audible despite the noises from outside the building. J Jonah Jameson, publisher of the paper, stood in the doorway of his office and glared out at his staff.
"Where's Parker? I need pictures of this! Proof of what that vigilante bug has done to the city!" The staff ignored him, being more concerned with the city-wide battle that was already crashing through their walls as the webslinger himself exploded through the window and crushed Jameson's desk on impact.
"Oh hey, J.J.," he said, noticing the fuming man swinging around to glare at him. "You might wanna get somewhere safe, this isn't gonna be pretty." Before the man could respond, Spider-Man had leapt to his feet and catapulted himself back through the broken window. Jameson rushed to the window but the hero was already out of sight.
"This is your fault!" he bellowed. "I'll prove it! YOUR FAULT!"
"What's the current situation?" barked Nick Fury, eye-patched agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. as he surveyed the screens in front of him. Half of them had lost their picture, and he could pick up little from the remaining images.
"There've been no substantial gains for either... for any side. No territory has been lost yet but there's no sign that the invasion forces are slowing. We have a number of reported civilian casualties, but the capes seem relatively-"
"Have they got into Stark Tower yet?" Fury snapped, turning to look at the man addressing him.
"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. Stark is holding up well but he's running out of suits."
Fury growled.
"And ... any sign of him yet?"
"We're looking out for him but there's nothing so far."
"Goddammit!" Fury shouted. "Ok, keep me in the loop. We've fought off enough aliens, we're not losing this one!"
Wolverine snarled as another shot hit him, and staggered backwards, but he was healed in a moment.
"That all ya got, bub?" he smirked. He leapt forward and whirled his claws, slicing through metal as the figures around him dropped to the ground, dead. A car sped past him pursued by another flying beast.
"Hey, you!" he roared, springing off the ground to impale the creature with his claws. It screeched and dropped out of the sky, slamming into the road with Wolverine on top of it.
Logan, do not forget your mission. Wolverine jerked his head as Xavier's voice drifted through his head.
"Oh yeah," he muttered. "The crack." With a quick scan of the street in case of another attack, he darted down a back alley toward Central Park.
This was way outside of his usual fare. Murderers were normal. Mobsters, gangsters, they were just run of the mill criminals. Hitmen, assassins, fine. But alien robots? That was not normal.
Frank Castle raised his shotgun and looked around him. There were half a dozen, but the trees offered some cover from their fire and the rough terrain seemed to throw them somewhat. He leapt from his cover and fired four shots, dropping four of them instantly, and then pulled a grenade out and yanked the pin in his teeth. A couple of shots went past his ear as he rolled it out, blowing the bastards up from underneath. Then there was a kind of silence, amid the noise of battles ranging around the rest of the city. The crack seemed to draw in the sound, leaving air empty of the noises of war. He was almost tempted to go closer, but... no. That was bad, the Doctor had warned them of that.
Speaking of which... where the hell was the Doctor anyway?