Marvel: Apocalyptic Beginning, a High-Level Game!

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Failed.

A crushing defeat.

Tony Stark lay on his back in the rubble, the light on his chest dimmed to the point of almost going out.

The nano-armor was still working frantically, trying to repair every inch of his damaged body—four ribs were broken, his left scapula was comminuted, his spleen was ruptured, and internal bleeding was compressing his lungs.

But he couldn't feel any pain.

Or rather, the pain has been overwhelmed by something heavier.

He turned his head and looked at the figure not far away who was locked in combat with Thanos—Thor, the King of Asgard, the Guardian of the Nine Realms. At this moment, he held a hammer in each hand, Stormbreaker and Mjolnir whistling through the air, each swing carrying the power of thunder.

But it's no use.

Thanos's double-edged sword moved like a living thing, effortlessly weaving through, parrying, and counterattacking Thor's attacks. The purple giant didn't even use a single Infinity Stone—his power alone was enough to crush everything.

Thor was kicked away, crashing through three walls.

Tony closed his eyes.

They gave it their all.

They once trampled this monster underfoot, beheaded him, seized his helmet, and made him watch in despair as the "great cause" he had built with his own hands vanished.

They thought that was victory, that everything was over.

But at this moment, the monster stood up again.

Stronger. Faster. More ruthless.

Tony struggled to get up. His ligaments were torn, and his bones were dislocated in several places; every movement felt like someone was grinding a red-hot iron rod against his nerves. But he still managed to get up.

Because he is Iron Man.

Because he is Tony Stark.

because--

They haven't lost yet.

Even if the hope is as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, as long as he has a breath left, he will not fall.

He staggered to his feet, the cannon in his palm emitting a weak buzzing sound.

Then--

Golden sparks burst in the air.

One, two, three... countless halos lit up simultaneously behind the heroes.

Tony was stunned.

The first figure to emerge from the circle of light, as agile as a black panther—T'Challa, King of Wakanda. He nodded to Steve, his eyes burning with an indomitable spirit.

Immediately afterwards, Falcon burst out of the circle of light, followed by a densely packed Wakandan army—the Doramiraj Guard, the Border Tribes, and countless warriors wielding vibranium weapons.

The aperture is expanding further.

The gates of the Sorcerer Supreme's sanctuary opened, and the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj filed out, wielding magical weapons, with golden shields unfurled before them.

The sky was shrouded in shadow—those were Asgardian ships, gladiators from Sakaar, and countless reinforcements arriving from every corner of the universe.

The Nova Corps of Xandar, the rebels of the Kree Empire, the warriors of the Shi'ar Alliance...

And that red and blue figure.

Spider silk swayed from a distant high-rise building, and a small figure flipped and jumped in mid-air before finally landing steadily on the roof of an overturned car.

Tony knew that pose all too well—it was his Spider-Man, his little guy.

This time, however, those eyes weren't looking at him.

His gaze fell on the purple giant in the distance, filled with an anger that Tony had never seen before.

"On your left."

A voice rang in Steve's ear. Sam Wilson hovered in mid-air to his left, his pair of red and white mechanical wings gleaming in the sunlight.

Steve turned his head.

He looked at everyone who walked out of the halo—those who had been reduced to ashes, those who had fought to the death, and those who had never given up.

He looked at the warriors of Wakanda, the remnants of Asgard, the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj, and allies from every corner of the universe.

His eyes welled up with tears.

Then he looked down at the shield in his hand, which was covered in scratches.

He raised his head.

"The Avengers—"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the entire battlefield.

"—Assemble!!"

The battle roar shook the heavens.

Thor was the first to charge out. Stormbreaker and Mjolnir spun in his hands, thunder roared behind him, and he transformed into a bolt of lightning, cleaving into the enemy ranks.

The spear of Proxima Midnight came straight at him, but he parried it with his hammer, and then chopped off the purple head with an axe.

Black Dwarf roared and lunged at T'Challa, only to find that his proud power was useless against vibranium—the king nimbly dodged and counterattacked, his claws tearing the joints of the mechanical arm.

Ebony Maw attempted to imprison Wanda with his psychic powers, but Scarlet Witch's crimson light was faster, more ruthless, and more violent. She was hurled into the air and then crashed into the center of the Chitauri formation like a meteorite, the scarlet energy spreading like a tide.

Everyone is fighting.

Everyone is working desperately.

Thanos stood in the center of the battlefield, watching all of this unfold.

He was somewhat surprised.

This Earth doesn't seem to be protected by only a group of heroes, as he had previously explored. Nor are there only the threats of Asgard and the Sorcerer Supreme. There are many more forces he cannot comprehend emerging.

But it's okay.

He raised his double-edged sword.

"Now," he said calmly, as if discussing something trivial, "it's time for you to fulfill your promise."

This was said to the person next to him.

Dean, the general of the space pirates, stood atop his hovercraft, overlooking the chaotic battlefield below.

His metal mask concealed his expression, but a dangerous glint flashed in his slightly narrowed eyes.

"Of course," he said.

Then he waved his hand.

The space pirate fleet opened fire.

Laser beams rained down from the sky, blasting deep craters into the ground.

The silver robot army surged onto the battlefield like a tidal wave, each shot from their laser cannons easily tearing apart a Zeta Swiss soldier—or a hero.

The four Black Generals also moved.

They were like four sharp spears, piercing fiercely into the ranks of heroes.

Black Dwarf's iron fist smashed a tank; Night Bini's spear pierced three Doramiraja warriors; Ebony Maw's telekinesis ripped a spaceship from the sky and slammed it into Wakanda's formation.

Slaughter. Chaos. Despair.

At the heart of all this—

Hawkeye Clint Barton is running wildly.

He clutched the deadly object in his arms—the Infinity Gauntlet. The six gems gleamed dangerously on the back of his hand. He didn't know what to do with it, or who to give it to. He only knew he had to run. He had to get it to safety.

But the problem is-

This damned battlefield is teeming with enemies.

He had just escaped from the encirclement of a group of vanguard guards and hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath when he discovered that another group of enemies had already set their sights on him.

"The gloves are over there!!"

Someone shouted.

In an instant, countless eyes turned to him.

Chitauri, Vanguard, Silver Robots, Obsidian Five... everything that could move was rushing towards him.

"Are you kidding me?!"

Hawkeye was on the verge of tears. He clutched his gloves tightly and took off running. His legs were weak, his lungs were burning, and every breath felt like swallowing a handful of shards of glass. But he dared not stop. He couldn't stop.

Steve's voice came through the communicator, cutting through the noise of the battlefield:

"Everyone, listen up—preserve the gloves at all costs!!"

The heroes began to gravitate towards Hawkeye.

T'Challa tore two Vanguards apart with a single claw and charged toward Hawkeye.

The falcon swooped down from the sky and strafed the pursuers with its machine gun.

Wanda's red light launched a group of silver robots into the sky.

Doctor Strange's golden shield blocked several lasers aimed at Hawkeye.

But there are too many enemies.

More and more Vanguard Guards jumped out from behind Hawkeye, only to be stopped one by one by the heroes.

However, some still managed to break through the defenses—those silver robots piloting hovercraft, though only a little over a meter tall, could blast huge craters into the ground with every shot from their laser cannons.

Hawkeye dodged a beam of light, but was thrown to the ground by the shockwave. He struggled to his feet, but before he could even regain his footing—

A huge figure blocked his way.

It was a colossal beast. Over three meters tall, its body covered in rough, gray skin, and its gaping maw was full of fangs. It roared, the sound so powerful it made Eagle Eyes' eardrums ache.

Like a giant version of King Kong. Or rather, more like a crazy version of the Hulk.

Hawkeye drew his sword from his waist and gritted his teeth.

We'll give it our all.

He was about to rush forward—

A dark figure descended from the sky.

The vibranium gauntlet, carrying the weight and acceleration of the entire body, slammed heavily into the beast's head. With a dull thud, the massive beast swayed and crashed to the ground.

"Give me."

Black Panther—T'Challa—stood before him, extending his hand. His eyes held no kingly majesty, only the unwavering resolve of a warrior.

Hawkeye paused for a moment. Then he remembered a few years ago at that airport in Siberia, when he had handed the gloves to someone else in the same way.

He believed in the King of Wakanda.

He handed over the gloves.

T'Challa took the glove and instantly transformed into a black lightning bolt.

His physique truly resembled that of a cheetah—agile, elegant, and deadly. His vibranium claws tore apart any enemy who dared to stand in his way; the vanguard guards couldn't even withstand a single blow from him.

We're getting closer and closer to that bread truck.

Just put the gloves in, just put them in—

boom--!!!

A purple figure descended from the sky, wielding a double-edged sword that cleaved the bread cart in two.

Thanos.

He stood amidst the ruins and slowly raised his head.

The next second, Ebony Maw's fingers twitched slightly. Telekinesis, like an invisible chain, instantly froze T'Challa in mid-air as he charged forward.

The king struggled desperately, but the force was too strong, too strong to break free from.

Thanos strode toward him.

Everyone saw this.

Everyone roared and tried to rush forward to stop them, but the enemy's overwhelming offensive held them firmly in place.

"No--!!"

Wanda's screams echoed across the battlefield.

But it was too late.

A silver figure rushed in from the side, faster than anyone else.

Dean, the short, silver robot, swept past Ebony Maw and casually took the glove that was hovering in mid-air. His movement was as light as if he were taking a piece of ordinary luggage.

Then he soared into the sky and hovered above the battlefield.

Everyone looked up at him.

"No—!!" More screams rang out.

Tony looked up at the silver figure, then at Doctor Strange, who was casting a spell beside him.

His voice was hoarse, with a tremor he himself didn't even realize:

"Tell me—if there was such a thing as a chance, is this one?"

Dr. Strange frowned as he watched the plot completely veer off course.

Where did those silver robots come from?

So where did those space pirates come from?

Why wasn't the gauntlet stolen by Thanos, but instead held by some unknown guy?

he does not know.

He no longer had time to think about these things.

"Perhaps," he said.