AN: I do not own Marvel; I am writing a fanfic using their characters. Marvel Entertainment and Disney own marvel.
The conference room was thick with tension as the heroes deliberated over the relentless storm that had besieged them for the past month.
"Look," Tony's voice rose, frustration evident. "This storm has been raging for a month!"
Morbius countered, equally agitated, "And there's nothing we can do but wait!"
"Enough!" Steve's hands slammed onto the table, silencing the room. "Arguing gets us nowhere. Morbius, any idea how long Alex will remain comatose?"
Morbius shook his head, exasperated. "I don't know. I can't even determine why he's in this state."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "If you're clueless, why are you even here?"
Natasha smirked, "Same reason as you."
Max leaned back, adding with a grin, "You're the mascot."
Tony's gaze shifted to Max. "And why are you still here?"
Max's smile widened. "I'm adorable." He leaned forward, tone turning serious. "But since you bring it up for the thousandth time, after we deal with Richie, Natasha and I will move out. You won't have to endure my adorableness much longer."
Steve interjected, steering the conversation back. "Let's focus on the issue at hand."
Tony's voice was cold. "Eliminate Alex, and the problem's solved."
Barton stood abruptly. "Are you suggesting killing a child is the solution?"
Tony retorted, "I never said that. You did."
Barton scoffed. "Call me when your solutions don't involve murder." He moved towards the door just as Storm and Logan entered.
Storm's voice was firm. "Killing him isn't the answer."
Tony challenged, "Got any better ideas? We're running low."
Logan growled, "We do, bub! You think this is bad? It's nothing compared to what happens when a Wendigo dies."
Tony's skepticism was evident. "And you know this how?"
Storm replied calmly, "We raised him. Took him in when he was nine."
Tony's brow furrowed. "On purpose?"
Logan's claws extended slightly as he glared at Tony. "Watch your mouth before I cut your tongue out."
Max stood, diffusing the tension. "Tony's not great with guests. How about a drink?"
Logan retracted his claws, nodding as he followed Max out.
Storm took a seat, addressing the group. "I understand your frustration and confusion about why we took him in." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Alex came from a troubled home—beaten, starved, left to die by his father. One night, the wandering spirit found him. That same night, his father attacked his mother in front of him. With the Wendigo's aid, Alex killed his father... and tragically, his mother as well."
The room was silent, absorbing the weight of her words.
Storm continued, "We heard reports of villages being decimated in days. When we found him, he was out of control. We took him in, trained him, helped him heal. But he fell in with the wrong crowd, despite our warnings."
Tony interrupted, dismissive. "Everyone faces hardships."
Barton snapped, "Shut up! The worst thing that happened to you was being sent to school and losing your dad. You think the world revolves around you. You're only upset about this storm because it affects you. Someone needs help, and you're whining. You'll be the downfall of this team!"
Tony pointed to the door. "Get out!"
Barton didn't hesitate. "Gladly."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, standing to follow. "See ya."
"Barton, Natasha!" Steve called after them.
Bruce sighed, rising. "Sorry, Steve." He exited.
Morbius gestured to Storm. "Come, I'll take you to Alex."
Steve remained; the weight of the fractured team evident. He turned to Tony, disappointment in his eyes. "Congratulations, Tony." He left without another word.
Alexis pushed open the med bay door and quietly slipped inside. Her steps were hesitant, uncertain, as she made her way to the chair beside Alex's unmoving body. She sat in silence for a moment, nervously twisting her fingers in her lap.
"The adults are arguing again…" she finally whispered, breaking the quiet. "Tony wants to—" She exhaled a shaky breath and shook her head. "It's stupid."
She gave a faint, hollow smile. "I usually make jokes to hide how much it hurts, but I've got nothing this time." Her voice wavered. "I've never had real friends... never had anything, really."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Max has Natasha," she sniffled. "And me? I'm just the third wheel."
Her lower lip trembled. "Sometimes I wonder why they even bothered saving me. I don't matter to them. I'm always the extra piece—never the reason."
She looked down, her voice cracking. "I just wanted something normal. And when you showed up, for once, I felt like I was normal."
Her eyes filled, spilling tears down her cheeks. "But now you're dying!" she cried, her voice rising. "You think your mission's over because you got your revenge—but what about the people who still need you!?"
She choked on a sob. "I need you, Alex… more than ever."
Collapsing into herself, she buried her head in her arms and sobbed against his still body.
Meanwhile, upstairs...
Thunder cracked overhead. A deep, earth-shaking thud followed, echoing from the roof.
"That must be Thor," Max muttered, glancing up.
A few minutes later, the elevator chimed, and Thor stepped out carrying an ancient, leather-bound book.
"My father wasn't pleased with me giving you access to this," Thor said, setting the book down with a heavy thud.
"Well, thank him for me," Max replied, already flipping it open.
"That will never happen."
Max chuckled under his breath as he flipped through the yellowed pages. "Got it!" he said, jabbing a finger at one of the entries.
"What is it?" Logan asked.
Steve leaned in. "Old... artifacts?"
"Not just any old artifacts," Max said with a grin. "Wolfsblade." He pointed to a faded illustration of a silver, curved dagger. The blade had a jagged indent near the tip. Its golden hilt was etched with crisscrossing Xs, and the cross-guard bore a screaming wolf head with a ruby set in a silver crown.
"Magic Bullet." He pointed at a carved image of a grinning bullet, the words etched right on its casing.
"WOLFSEYE." Another carving showed a glaring, violet eye surrounded by intricate runes.
Steve frowned. "How do we find these artifacts?"
Thor scoffed. "That is the hard part."
Max smirked. "Hell. More specifically—Vârcolac's Hell."
Logan narrowed his eyes. "How do you get to this guy's version of Hell?"
"There's an entrance," Max explained, "hidden inside an abandoned carnival. Only those with lycanthropy can pass through. I'll take Jack and head there myself."
Steve folded his arms. "Feels a little too easy."
"It's easy getting in," Max said grimly. "Getting out is the hard part."
"What do you mean?" Steve asked.
"If one of us dies inside, that's it. No second chances. We stay there. Forever. As tormented souls."
Steve's face hardened. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." Max closed the book and handed it back to Thor. "If Richie shows up, hold him off. I'll be in Hell."
"See you on the other side," Steve said.
Max grinned. "See you on the other side." The two shared a brief, firm hug. Then Logan stepped up.
"Don't die on us," Logan muttered as he pulled him in for a hug.
Max nodded, turned to Morbius, and headed toward the stairs. "Let's go."
Back in the tower, Steve's voice rang out. "Let's move! Richie won't stay hidden forever. We need to be ready!"
The team dispersed.
In her room, Natasha unlocked a chest and opened it on her bed. She slid on her Widow Bites, attached her dual electro-batons to her hips, and loaded two Glock 26s, holstering them against her thighs.
Steve grabbed his shield, slinging it onto his back. He picked up a 9mm and secured it in a thigh holster.
"Barton," he called out, "I need you on overwatch. Find a rooftop with a clear line of sight."
"On it," Barton replied, grabbing a duffel bag and sprinting out.
Across the street, he climbed a stairwell inside an old building. His bow and quiver extended from his back as he reached the rooftop. All clear.
He dropped the duffel, pulling out tripwires and explosives. He rigged the entrances—front, back, and rooftop—with precision, then returned to the roof. There, he mounted a bowgun on an AC unit, attached a motion sensor, and aimed it at the rooftop door.
"I'm in position," he said through the comms.
"Good," Steve answered.
Barton scanned the horizon, then froze. His eyes widened slightly.
"Hey… the storm stopped."
Steve looked at Natasha.
"I'm on it!" she said, sprinting up the stairs.
She reached the medical bay, opened the door, and paused as she heard Alexis sobbing.
"Please don't go," Alexis cried softly, her head resting on Alex's chest.
Natasha was about to quietly back out to give her space—but Alexis called out without looking.
"Mom… please stay."
Natasha swallowed hard and stepped back in. "Whatever you need, sweetheart," she said gently.
Alexis turned and wrapped her arms around Natasha, clinging to her as the sobs wracked her body. Natasha held her tightly, resting her chin on the girl's head.
An hour outside Manhattan, Max, Jack, and Morbius pulled into a decaying, abandoned carnival. Rides lay in ruins, rusting and broken. Food stands were collapsed, game booths shattered. Signs hung by a single bolt, creaking in the wind.
"Well… this is charming," Morbius muttered as they walked through the desolate grounds. "What exactly are we looking for?"
"A train ride," Max replied without breaking stride.
As they moved deeper, a light flickered above an old booth, its electricity crackling in the silence.
"That's it," Jack said.
A dirty red train screeched to a stop under the flickering light.
"Welcome aboard. Want to ride?" a voice asked.
Morbius looked around sharply. "Who said that?"
Max shrugged. "No one knows. No one's ever asked."
The train door creaked open.
Max turned to Morbius. "Head back to the tower. If Richie shows, they're going to need all the help they can get."
Morbius nodded and sprinted back to the car.
Max glanced at Jack. "You ready?"
Jack gave a single nod. Max stepped inside; the door groaning shut behind him.
The train jolted, reversed a few feet, then sped forward into darkness. The tunnel plunged into a steep slope. With a loud horn, the train vanished into a swirling portal.
Jack was thrown forward and hit the ground hard. Groaning, he got to his feet. "Max?" he called, spinning around. "Max!"
He stumbled out of the train—and froze.
Rotting trees surrounded him, their branches heavy with skeletal remains of werewolves, some impaled on spears, others hanging lifeless. Bones crunched beneath his feet with every step.
A red sun glared down through a yellow sky, casting an oppressive heat. A soft whimper made him turn—he spotted dying werewolves in rusted metal cages, barely clinging to life.
"Where am I?" he whispered.
Meanwhile, Max stirred awake to the sound of cheering.
He stood in the center of a gladiator-style arena surrounded by crowds screaming from the stands.
"Welcome the new contestant!" a voice called from above.
Max growled. "Vârcolac…"
Laughter echoed from a balcony, and a shadowed figure appeared. "Bring out the first challenger!"
A large, muscular man charged from a gate wielding a sword. He lunged at Max, who dodged just in time.
"Where's my weapon?!" Max shouted.
"Oops," Vârcolac laughed. "Fight for one!"
The crowd roared.
Max caught the attacker's wrist, twisted it until bones snapped, then drove his hand into the man's throat. Seizing the sword from his grasp, Max spun behind him and drove the blade through his back. With one final motion, he decapitated him.
Blood soaked the sand. Max gripped the sword tightly, raising it toward the balcony.
"You will never have my soul, Vârcolac!"
"We'll see about that!" the voice echoed. "Next challenger!"
Jack stumbled through the cursed forest, his legs torn and bloodied by the skeletal debris. He collapsed out of the tree line, gasping in pain. Ahead of him, a wooden altar stood shrouded in black mist. Atop it—a box.
He limped forward, but laughter surrounded him.
"Be careful, Jack Russell," Vârcolac's voice mocked. "Take that artifact at your own risk."
Jack reached the altar—then staggered back, clutching his head as visions overwhelmed his mind. The image of a monstrous werewolf surrounded by skulls filled his vision.
"Locking yourself away every full moon won't save the ones you love!"
"I've resisted you before!" Jack growled. "And I'll do it again!"
With a roar, he smashed a nearby skull into the box. The chest burst open.
Back in the arena, Max slashed through his next opponent, driving the blade into his neck.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. The arena shook violently. Screams erupted from the crowd.
Max and Vârcolac locked eyes.
Up in the human world, Barton was still scanning the road.
"Cap, it's been two hours, I don't—"
The entire building shook beneath him.
He gasped as the rooftop crumbled—his foot slipped. Falling fast, he yanked an arrow from his quiver and shot it into the edge. The grappling line caught just in time, stopping his fall inches from the ground.
"Barton!" Steve's voice called over the comms. "Are you okay?!"
"I'm okay," Barton said breathlessly. "I'm okay."
Pressing a button on his bow, he was pulled back up onto the roof. "Was that an earthquake?"
Downstairs, Natasha, and Alexis came rushing down the steps.
"What was that?!" Alexis asked.
"It's probably Max and Jack," Steve replied, scanning the area. "Which means Richie won't be far behind."
Vârcolac's Domain
Jack clutched the WOLFSEYE artifact and bolted deeper into the forest. Black mist quickly consumed the trees around him, clouding his vision until he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.
He pressed forward blindly, hoping his instincts were leading him the right way.
Then—cheering. Shouting. A flicker of light ahead.
"Max!" Jack called out, running toward it.
As he broke through the mist, the light swallowed him—and he suddenly stood in the middle of the arena.
Max was mid-fight, locked in brutal combat. The enemy dodged and slashed Max across the back, then drove a blade into his neck.
"MAX!" Jack screamed and sprinted forward—but the ground crumbled beneath him, sending him plummeting.
He crashed hard, bouncing across the bone-strewn earth before coming to a stop. Pain shot through him. Wheezing, he forced himself to stand—only to stumble and collapse again.
Jack gasped awake, lying atop a pile of skeletons, face-to-face with another altar. He groaned, pressing his hands over his face.
"Get up!" a voice echoed. "Jack Russel, get up!"
Jack looked up to find a werewolf, half-fused into a tree.
"Who… who are you?"
"Vârcolac's punishment," the figure growled.
"What did you do?"
"I came for the artifacts… and I failed. He's coming for you now, Jack. You don't have much time."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Why should I trust you?"
The werewolf bared his teeth. "Would you rather trust Vârcolac?"
Jack remained silent, then gave a reluctant nod.
"Then get moving."
"Thanks," Jack muttered. He grabbed another skull and shattered the chest, pulling out the Magic Bullet.
"Don't mention it!" the voice called as Jack disappeared into the mist again, running toward his final goal.
Back in the Arena
Max drove a blade through his attacker's heart and kicked the body to the ground. The arena shook again, violently.
Back in the human world, Barton struggled to keep his balance on the roof as it trembled beneath him.
"How much more of this are we going to take?!" Thor shouted, bracing himself.
"My guess? One more hit," Steve said grimly.
"Where is Richie?" Bruce asked, just as he walked toward the front entrance.
A deafening CRASH shook the tower as an armored truck burst through the front, slamming Bruce into the wall.
Seconds later, heavily armed soldiers poured out, rifles raised.
"You should look behind you," Tony called calmly, stepping out from the conference room.
"We're not falling for that!" one of the gunmen barked—
—Just as their own armored truck was hurled back out the building and onto the street with a violent BOOM.
"Told you," Tony added, smug.
A massive green hand tore through the rubble. Hulk emerged, snarling, and clapped his hands together—creating a shockwave that detonated the soldiers nearest to him.
"Get your suit, Tony!" Steve ordered.
"I'm on it!" Stark yelled, bolting up the stairs.
"What do you want us to do?" Storm asked.
"Fight," Steve growled. "We defend this tower for as long as we can!"
"We've got incoming!" Barton shouted from above.
Across the block, a fleet of armored vehicles approached—machine guns mounted, soldiers swarming in formation.
The weapons clanked to life, and seconds later, a storm of bullets rained toward the tower.
Hulk roared and leapt from the window, landing hard on one of the vehicles and crushing it.
"HULK SMASH!" he bellowed, slamming both fists into the ground. The road shattered like glass, sending more vehicles flipping end over end.
Inside, Natasha turned to the others. "Jane, Pepper, Betty—go upstairs to the med bay. Alexis, you're with them. Protect them."
"On it!" Alexis responded, rushing upstairs as the others followed.
The Avengers ran outside as the battlefield fell into a moment of eerie silence—only the groaning of overturned vehicles and the spin of loose tires filled the air. One of the wrecked trucks rocked violently before a massive hand burst through the metal. With a screech of torn steel, the Blob emerged.
"Is that all you've got?" he cackled, stepping out of the wreckage.
Hulk growled and charged, landing a punch straight into Blob's chest—only for his fist to sink uselessly into fat. Blob laughed harder.
"Richie said you were the strongest man alive," he mocked. "Look at you now."
His body oozed downward, his legs anchoring themselves into the ground like melted wax. He grinned and delivered a punch to Hulk's jaw, then recoiled, shaking his hand. "Ow! What the hell are you made of?!"
Hulk stepped back, eyes narrowing.
"Hey! What are you doing?! Stop that—it hurts!" Blob shouted, panicking as Hulk backed up.
With his legs still rooted in the earth, Blob was launched forward when the connection broke. Hulk caught him mid-air by the head.
"HULK STRONGEST THERE IS!" he bellowed.
A sickening pop echoed across the battlefield. Blob's headless body hit the ground with a thud, blood pooling around it as Hulk's green hand dripped with gore and brain matter.
The attackers panicked and charged.
"Thor, you're up!" Steve commanded.
Mjölnir spun in Thor's hand as he launched into the sky. With a thunderous roar, he hurled it into the enemy ranks, unleashing a devastating blast of lightning that obliterated half of them.
Above, Storm's eyes turned pure white. "Hear me and obey!" she cried, calling dark clouds that blanketed the sky. A colossal lightning bolt followed, vaporizing the remaining soldiers.
Two jets streaked overhead—only to be blown apart mid-air by Tony.
"I gotta say, I'm a little disappointed in Richie's effort," Tony quipped.
"Not for long," Barton warned.
A semi-truck barreled down the road toward them. Barton fired an explosive arrow into the wheels. The truck skidded, flipped, and crashed on its side with a deafening crunch.
"Still disappointed," Tony muttered.
A hulking 7-foot man leapt through the wreckage. He wore a crimson helmet and sleeveless red armor, his muscle-bound frame radiating raw power. Hulk and the new foe locked eyes and roared before charging. One devastating punch from the man sent Hulk flying. He sprinted after him without hesitation.
A chorus of laughter echoed from the truck's trailer as a wave of mutants poured out, attacking immediately.
Logan snarled as his adamantium claws slid from his fists. He charged into the fray, cutting through enemy after enemy with primal fury.
Natasha reached for her guns, but a stretchy mutant coiled around her like a snake, restraining her limbs. Storm tried to intervene but was ambushed from below—watery arms grabbed her ankles, and a water golem rose, engulfing her. She thrashed, struggling to breathe.
Surrounded and outnumbered, the Avengers froze—hostages in sight.
"Enough!" a familiar voice rang out.
Richie limped into view, supported by a cane, a smug grin on his face.
Meanwhile...
Jack burst from the forest and found himself on a jagged mountain terrain. In front of him stood a ten-year-old boy in a dark suit, surrounded by werewolves.
"Hello, Jack," the boy said calmly.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
"A friend," the boy replied, lifting a wooden chest in his hands and stepping forward.
Jack hesitated, his instincts prickling. "Who are you?" he growled.
The boy ignored him, extending the chest. "Take the final artifact."
Jack's eyes narrowed further. "Nice try, Vârcolac!" He slapped the chest out of the boy's hands. It shattered on impact, and the Wolfsblade slid across the ground.
The boy laughed as his body transformed—twisting, stretching, growing until a monstrous shadowed werewolf stood in his place. "Very good, boy. But your arrogance will be your downfall!"
He lunged.
Jack dodged, unarmed and barely able to defend himself.
"Your presence only confirms your damnation!" Vârcolac snarled. "Many of your bloodline are trapped in my heart—including your pathetic father!"
Jack rolled away, seized the Wolfsblade, and stood tall. "I've spent my life running from who I am. But I see now—this is who I'm meant to be."
Vârcolac sneered. "You'll never understand the curse!" He lunged again, screaming, "You can't escape damnation!"
As he struck, a blinding light erupted from Jack, forcing Vârcolac to recoil in agony. He clutched his chest as the trapped souls found peace. With a final roar of defiance, he tried to absorb Jack—only to shudder, crack, and explode.
When the light faded, Jack stood alone, clutching the three artifacts. The trees parted, revealing the train. He stumbled toward it, climbed inside, and shut the door behind him.
Back in the real world...
Richie stood before the Avengers. "Search the tower," he barked. "Drag out anyone you find—and kill them."
"On it!"
Several mutants charged inside.
"Check every room!" one of them ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the others echoed, splitting up by floors.
"Clear," one of the mutants said through an earpiece.
"Clear," the others echoed.
The leader opened a door and stepped into the medical bay—only to be met with a blur of movement. Alexis leapt off a medical bed, plunging her claws into his throat. She pushed off him, sending him crashing to the floor in front of Alex's bed, where Jane, Pepper, and Betty were hiding.
Without hesitation, Alexis grabbed his legs and dragged him into a nearby room, leaving a thick trail of blood behind her.
Hearing the commotion through their earpieces, the other mutants rushed toward the medical bay.
Alexis slid to the door, pressing herself against the wall. As it opened, she elbowed the first mutant in the face, slamming his head into the wall. Another attacker came at her—she ducked, landed a brutal shot to his kidneys, and when he dropped to a knee, she grabbed his head and snapped his neck.
"Who's next?!" she growled.
An attacker charged, swinging a punch. She dodged, but he caught her by the hair and drove his knee into her face. Blood poured from her nose as she staggered back. Snarling, she charged him, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him down, clawing at his face in a vicious frenzy.
Before she could finish him, an electric blast struck her, launching her across the room. Electricity danced over her body as she hit the ground hard. She groaned, trying to stand, but another blast hit her—this one a continuous stream. Alexis screamed in agony as she rose into the air, writhing.
The mutant laughed as he approached, electricity surging through his hands. "Once I'm finished with her, you're next!" he growled at the women.
"Stop it!" Jane screamed. "You're killing her!"
"You sure about that?" a voice growled.
The mutant turned—and Alex grabbed him by the neck. "You like hurting women?" he roared.
Electricity surged from the mutant's hands into Alex's arm. Gritting his teeth, Alex let go, then kicked the man through the window. Glass exploded outward as the mutant screamed, falling from the tower.
Down below, Richie stared at the mangled body parts scattered across the impact zone. He looked up and locked eyes with Alex standing in the broken window.
"Kill them!" Richie roared.
Logan snarled and drove his claws into a mutant's chest before charging Richie. He picked him up and slammed him into the ground.
Inside the tower, Alex gently lifted Alexis and placed her on the bed. "Take care of her," he growled to the women, then ran for the window. He leapt out, crashing down on two mutants below, crushing them instantly.
Looking up at the water golem still holding Storm, he roared, "Let her go!"
As if on cue, the storm returned with a vengeance. Winds screamed through the streets, and snow pelted the buildings. The water golem howled as it began to freeze solid.
Alex charged, slamming into the frozen legs of the golem, shattering them into pieces. The creature lost its form and released Storm, reverting into a man—now legless—who collapsed in agony.
Storm collapsed, gasping and coughing up water. "Thank you," she whispered in a raspy voice.
Natasha, still wrapped up, took advantage of her captor freezing. With a quick twist, she shattered him into shards. Grabbing her electric batons, she sprinted into battle, striking down mutants one after another.
Storm floated into the air, her eyes glowing white. Her former captor tried crawling away.
"Hear me and obey!" she thundered. "Touching me was your biggest mistake!"
Thunder cracked as lightning ignited the sky. Clouds spun into a massive vortex above. Tornadoes began forming in the churning clouds.
With a scream of fury, Storm called lightning down on the crawling mutant. He screamed as his body blackened and burned.
Bolts of lightning struck everywhere, and tornadoes slammed into the streets.
"Let's go!" Alex shouted as the storm spiraled out of control. Just then, a deafening screech tore through the wind.
Mutants screamed as they were flung into the air or dragged into the tornadoes.
"Logan!" Steve shouted. "How do we stop this?!"
Logan jammed his claws into the pavement as he slid toward the Avengers. "We need to calm her down!"
"How?!" Natasha yelled over the wind.
"I need a boost!"
Suddenly, Tony slammed into the ground beside them. "I… might be able to help!"
Steve gave a sharp nod. "Do what you need to do!"
Tony grabbed Logan. "Man, you're heavier than you look!"
"Shut it, bub," Logan growled.
Tony took off, straining, and launched Logan toward Storm. Logan tackled her midair, slamming them both into the ground.
Storm, consumed by her rage, struggled violently.
Lightning struck Logan again and again, searing his back. He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain. "Snap out of it, Ororo!" he roared.
He raised a clawed hand, tears in his eyes. "Don't make me lose another friend."
Storm opened her eyes.
"Logan…" she choked out.
The winds slowed. The tornadoes vanished. The lightning faded.
And the storm… calmed.
As the storm settled, the Avengers turned toward a silhouette emerging from the haze.
The figure screeched, "FATHER!"
Tony's eyes widened behind his visor. "…Father?" he whispered.
Richie stumbled to his feet, laughing hoarsely.
"You're not going to be laughing much longer," the silhouette hissed as it stepped into the light.
What emerged was a nightmare in the flesh. Gore clung to rotted sinewy muscle. Its eyes were sunken pits, hollow voids devoid of light. Pale, blackened lips curled into a twisted grin, revealing rows of yellow, crooked teeth. Bloodied talons jutted from cracked fingertips, and four claw-like toes—three in front, one in back—scraped against the ground with every step. It wore only a tattered loincloth.
"I'll kill you again!" Wendigo roared, charging at Richie.
Richie caught him by the neck. "Weak," he snarled, and flung him across the field.
Wendigo landed on all fours, snarling. "Not for long." He groaned and dropped to one knee as his body began to contort and grow. Within seconds, he stood fifteen feet tall—his form elongated and skeletal. Skin stretched tight over jutting bones, and a deer skull replaced his face, crowned by twisted, blood-drenched antlers.
"I'll show you weak!" he roared—
—but before he could move, the armored man slammed down from the sky, grabbing Wendigo by the antlers and hurling him into a nearby building.
"Nice work, Juggernaut," Richie muttered, unfazed.
The ground trembled as Hulk sprinted toward Juggernaut, each step leaving fractured craters in his wake. His eyes blazed green.
He roared—raw and furious—and slammed a thunderous punch into Juggernaut's chest, sending the behemoth skidding backward, heels gouging into the asphalt.
Before Juggernaut could react, Hulk leapt into the sky.
BOOM. He crashed down like a meteor, fists crashing into his enemy with unrelenting fury.
Hulk didn't stop.
He pounded him again.
And again.
And again—each blow harder than the last, the ground quaking beneath them like the earth itself was afraid.
"RRRRAAAHHHH!" Hulk bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. His muscles bulged, skin tightening, glowing faintly with gamma light.
The angrier he got, the stronger he became.
Meanwhile, Wendigo crashed into a shopping mall. Screams erupted from trapped civilians as he stumbled to his feet. He let out a soul-rattling shriek—glass shattered, and the building trembled as cracks spread across the walls.
Suddenly, something knocked him to the ground. A massive white werewolf stood before him, baring its teeth. It growled, low and deep, forcing Wendigo to pause, lowering his head in submission.
Elsewhere, Logan charged Richie, claws bared. He drove them into Richie's chest, then lifted him and slammed him through a building wall. Blow after blow landed—torso, skull, then under the chin—before he hurled Richie to the ground.
Logan turned to regroup with the Avengers—
—but Richie's laugh echoed across the rubble.
"Is that all you've got?" he sneered.
He staggered to his feet. His eyes dangled from their sockets, and his jaw hung loose. With a sickening crack, he reattached his mandible and pushed his eyes back into place.
Then he screamed.
A wave of raw energy exploded from his body, knocking everyone to the ground. As the dust settled, Richie began to grow—his form towering nine feet tall. A dark fur coat materialized around him, his hair lengthened, his teeth twisted into jagged blades, and his eyes burned crimson.
Grinning, he pulled a monstrous 11-foot spear from his cloak. "Let us play."
He lunged. Logan met the strike with his claws, but the impact launched him backward. He dug into the ground with his claws to stop himself.
Richie turned on Steve. The Captain raised his shield just in time, but Richie's next blow forced his knee through the asphalt.
Gritting his teeth, Steve launched upward with everything he had, knocking Richie off balance.
Tony rocketed down from above, boosters at full power, slamming Richie into the ground before losing control and crashing through a nearby building.
Thor soared into the sky. Gripping Mjölnir, he summoned a lightning bolt and hurled it at Richie, erupting the ground beneath him in a blinding explosion.
Hulk came crashing down—but Juggernaut intercepted him, catching his fist mid-swing.
Hulk snarled, grabbing Juggernaut's arm with his free hand. With a sickening crunch, he twisted—snapping the shoulder out of place.
"STILL THINK—YOU'RE—UNSTOPPABLE?!" Hulk roared, spittle flying from his teeth, eyes blazing with gamma fury.
Juggernaut tried to speak—only a gasp escaped.
Hulk lifted him by the chest plate with one hand and slammed him down, hard enough to create a shockwave that threw back debris and sent nearby buildings crumbling into dust.
Back in the crater, Hulk stood over Juggernaut's shattered form. His fists trembled. His breath surged like steam vents erupting. His green skin pulsed with radiation, glowing brighter with every heartbeat.
"NO ONE—STOPS—HULK!" he snarled.
Then his fury ignited again.
He grabbed Juggernaut's lifeless body and began smashing it into the ground, over and over—every impact another detonation of rage, another thunderous boom shaking the earth.
Back to the fight with Richie, Thor himself charged, only to be swatted out of the air like a fly.
"What the hell!" Natasha shouted.
Richie stood tall, laughing. "Immortality! You can't kill me. All I have to do is wait."
Wendigo burst through the nearby buildings, stumbling wildly. He collided with Richie, sending him flying, his icy fury raged toward him.
Frost spewed from Wendigo's maw, striking Richie with a beam of arctic force. Richie tried to resist but couldn't—the beam froze him solid in seconds.
Wendigo turned as the frozen Richie exploded free as he threw his spear toward him, piercing his chest. He shrieked in pain and stumbled back. Thick black liquid oozed from the wound as he yanked the spear out and hurled it to the ground.
Richie charged at Wendigo. With a roar, Wendigo rushed forward, slashing Richie across the chest and knocking him to the ground. Pouncing on him, Wendigo bit into Richie's neck, tearing flesh as blood sprayed in every direction.
With a desperate punch, Richie knocked Wendigo off. He staggered to his feet, clutching his bleeding neck as crimson seeped between his fingers and dripped to the floor.
"You'll die, Alex!" he bellowed, sprinting toward his fallen spear. He grabbed it and charged.
Wendigo spat out torn flesh, blood dripping from his fangs. Wiping his mouth, he dropped to all fours and leapt again, slashing Richie across the back.
Richie screamed and crashed through a nearby building. As Wendigo lunged again, Richie twisted and stabbed the spear into his side. Wendigo roared in agony, collapsing to the ground with the weapon lodged in his chest.
Gunfire rang out—Natasha fired at Richie. "Hey!" she shouted, drawing his attention.
Steve sprinted forward, hurling his shield. It struck Richie and forced him to turn.
"Pathetic!" Richie growled. Grabbing his spear, he lunged toward them.
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath their feet. Richie leapt, but a ghostly train erupted from the earth and slammed down in front of them.
Jack crashed through the train roof, landing atop it. "Richie!" he shouted, pointing. "Your time is over!"
Black mist appeared before Jack. From within, a massive curved sword was revealed—six feet from hilt to tip. Its silver blade gleamed, ending in an indented edge. The handle was gold, engraved with "WOLFSEYE" and "Magic Bullet." The cross-guard bore a snarling wolf's head with a blood-red ruby set in a silver crown.
Richie faltered at the sight. Jack's eyes narrowed. "You look nervous."
Thick brown fur crawled across Jack's body, tearing through his clothes. His feet grew into sharp, jagged claws as he hefted the sword onto his shoulder with ease.
Richie snarled and lunged, spear first. Jack leapt into the air and brought his blade crashing down.
Richie screamed as the sword severed his arm. He dropped to one knee, blood gushing from the wound. "You—!" he roared, swinging his remaining arm and slapping Jack away.
Jack flew back, crashing hard and rolling to a stop. His sword spun through the air, embedding itself into the ground.
Richie stood, trembling with rage. "You'll pay for that!" He tried to lift the sword—but it refused to budge. He strained harder, gritting his teeth—until a shockwave of energy blasted him back.
The ground split open. A hand burst from the earth, slamming down—and Max emerged, eyes blazing.
"Let's finish this!" he roared. Black fur erupted across his body, forming armor around his hips. His eyes burned crimson. The moonstone at his chest turned blood-red, and a snarling wolf's head molded into his torso. His claws and fangs tore through skin, jagged and deadly. Darkness enveloped him—and when it vanished, a shadowed crown hovered above his head.
Snarling, Max gripped the sword and charged. Richie tried to dodge but was too slow—Max severed his foot, sending Richie howling to the ground.
With a roar, Max leapt into the air and plunged the blade into Richie's chest. Mist poured from the wound as Richie writhed in agony.
"You'll never harm my family again," Max growled, voice deeper, darker.
Richie spat blood. "What comes after me…" He coughed, gasping. "Is more than you can imagine! I'm not in charge… my boss will make you—"
Max drove the sword deeper. "I could do the same to him."
The earth trembled as a massive trench split the street. Smoke billowed from its depths—and skeletal wolves crawled out, circling them.
"Your presence in the underworld will be appreciated."
Richie screamed as the wolves swarmed, their fangs tearing into his flesh. Blood splattered everywhere as they dragged him into the pit. His cries echoed, growing fainter—until the gate slammed shut.
Silence fell.
Max stood, panting. He looked at his hands, then at the sword. A dark chuckle escaped his lips.
"This power…"
"That's not good," Tony muttered.
Max turned slowly, eyes glowing red. Corrupted by power, he let out a snarl and lunged toward them. Tony fired his repulsers, but Max dodged and landed in front of them, roaring again.
As he launched another attack, Natasha stepped between him and the others, arms outstretched.
"You want to kill someone?" she shouted. "Then kill me!"
The corrupted Max tightened his grip on the sword, eyes scanning the remaining heroes. He fixated on Thor as the god subtly shifted into a defensive stance. But then—movement. Max turned sharply as the women slowly stepped out of the tower behind him.
A sound echoed to his other side.
He spun around to see the white werewolf standing beside Wendigo, who was beginning to sit up. The fury in Max's eyes dimmed. His hand trembled before the sword slipped from his grasp and hit the ground with a metallic clatter. As it landed, the weapon shattered into fragments and dissolved into shimmering light—absorbing into Jack, who now stood shirtless and human once more. Etched into his chest were the three artifacts, branded like glowing tattoos.
Max's body shuddered. He extended a hand beside him. Natasha stepped forward, gently taking his hand.
"Let's go home," she whispered.
Without warning, the ground beneath them cracked and crumbled. They fell through the fissure, vanishing into the darkness.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
The only sound was the rhythmic pounding of Hulk's fists echoing through the ruins. Betty, carrying a duffel bag, approached the massive figure. Hulk paused, turning to her as she softly spoke—too quiet for the others to hear. Then, without a word, he lifted her gently into his arms. With one powerful leap, they vanished into the Horizon—leaving only dust and silence behind.
Thor wrapped an arm around Jane's waist. With a quiet nod to the others, they lifted into the sky and flew off.
"It's your tower, Tony," Barton muttered, watching the skyline. A Quinjet roared in from above and descended nearby. As its engines whirred, Barton walked toward the open bay door. He glanced over his shoulder. "It's what you wanted," he called over the noise, then stepped inside and hit the control panel. The ramp closed, and the jet disappeared into the clouds.
Steve slid his shield onto his back. "Maybe one day you'll change your mind," he said to Tony before walking toward a sleek black car. The door opened for him, and he climbed into the passenger seat. It pulled away, tires whispering over broken asphalt.
Logan and Storm approached Alex and the white werewolf—who quickly reverted back into Alexis, collapsing to her knees. Storm removed her coat and draped it over her.
"Thank you," Alexis whispered through chattering teeth.
Alex shifted back to his human form, suddenly naked in the middle of the wreckage. "Sorry..." he muttered, lowering his head. "I'm sorry."
Alexis reached out and placed her hand over his. "You didn't hurt anyone," she said softly.
Another Quinjet descended nearby, its bay door opening with a hiss. Beast strode down the ramp with a grin. "Heard there was trouble," he said, crouching to help Alex up. The five of them boarded the aircraft, which quickly lifted into the sky.
"Where to?" Beast asked as he took the controls.
"Budapest," Alex replied.
Back at the tower, Tony and Pepper stood in front of the shattered remains. Collapsed buildings surrounded them, the cityscape marred by destruction. Tony exhaled and turned to her.
"Are you leaving?" he asked.
Pepper shook her head and stepped closer. "Who would take care of you if I did?"
He pulled her into an embrace. "How did I get so lucky?"
"I honestly have no idea," she teased, chuckling. Tony grinned and lifted off the ground, flying back up into the tower.
In a dark, windowless room, a group of shadowy figures gathered around a table, watching footage of Tony flying into the tower. One of them turned off the broadcast.
"The Avengers are disbanded. What else can we do?" a voice asked.
"We need more than that," another replied, his voice rough and cold. "Wake the soldier."
"Yes, sir," a figure answered, standing to attention.
"Alexander?"
"Yes, sir."
"Failure is not an option."
"Yes, sir."
The man raised his arm, clenched in salute. "Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA!" the others echoed in unison; their fists raised in the same grim salute.