It had been roughly ten to twelve minutes since the infiltration began—though calling it an "infiltration" might've been giving them too much credit. Four figures—well, technically three humans and one Asgardian—had entered the Chitauri mothership with little resistance. There was no alarm system, no lockdown protocol, not even a centralized security response. The only real threat came from wandering Chitauri patrols, who opened fire on sight but lacked any coordination beyond that. It felt less like sneaking into an enemy stronghold and more like crashing a party no one was watching.
Nathan, currently in his Cyborg form, had managed to interface with the ship's systems—not a full takeover, but enough to poke around and learn a few things. Hacking the ship hadn't been particularly difficult in the traditional sense. The challenge came from the nature of the technology itself. It wasn't conventional machinery—it was biotechnology, pulsing and alive, connected directly to the Chitauri hivemind. It was like trying to hotwire a living creature.
"This thing's built more like a nervous system than a computer," Nathan muttered, scanning pulsing conduits that glowed faintly beneath the ship's walls. "Creepy, but impressive."
Nearby, Tony Stark glanced over, then turned his attention to Ben. "Your watch charged up, kid?"
Ben nodded, fiddling with the Omnitrix as it hummed softly with power. "Yup. Took a minute, but I'm back in business. Want me to go Brainstorm? Give us some extra IQ points?"
Nathan shook his head, wires extending from his mechanical arm with practiced ease. "Nah, I've got a better idea. I've studied my own watch enough to pick up a few things. Let me try something."
He reached out, placing his hand gently over the Omnitrix on Ben's wrist. Thin, sleek cables emerged from his fingers, snaking into the interface. For a second, the device flared with green light as data streamed back and forth between the two systems. Then there was a soft ping—confirmation of success.
Nathan retracted the wires and grinned. "Go ahead, check your playlist."
Ben tapped the dial, eyes widening. "Whoa. All my old forms… they're back! Every alien I've ever used—this is awesome!"
While Ben marveled at the restored database, Tony studied the glowing map Nathan had projected into the air—an intricate layout of the mothership's internals. Their target was clear, and the path forward even clearer.
"Alright," Tony said, pointing toward a pulsating chamber near the ship's core. "That's the cooling node. If we blow that, the energy flow will overload the engine matrix. Chain reaction kicks in, thermal energy spikes, boom. Big enough to take the entire ship with it."
Thor, standing sentry near the corridor entrance, slammed another unlucky Chitauri into the wall with the flat of Mjölnir. He didn't say much—he was focused, alert, and perfectly comfortable playing the role of vanguard.
"Raph," Nathan asked silently, directing his thoughts inward. "What do you think? This plan hold up?"
[It is well-structured and likely to succeed, as expected from Iron Man. However, efficiency can be improved. Recommend increasing the oxygen flow to the engine core prior to overload. This will amplify the combustion and significantly expand the blast radius.]
Nathan relayed the suggestion out loud. "We tweak the oxygen feed before the blow, it'll kick the explosion into overdrive."
Tony gave an approving nod. "Good call. That's doable. Only problem? We're gonna need a ridiculous amount of power to destroy that thing, as it's surrounded by thick metal."
Nathan cracked his knuckles, a soft mechanical whirr accompanying the motion. "Yeah, don't worry about that. I've got a plan."
"Fourarms," Ben called out as he slapped down on the Omnitrix, his body instantly engulfed in a familiar green glow. The transformation rippled across his form—muscles bulging, skin turning red, extra arms sprouting into place—until the towering Tetramand stood in his place, cracking his knuckles with anticipation.
"Man, it feels good to be back," he grinned, voice deeper now, rougher, echoing faintly through the chamber.
With renewed energy, the four of them surged forward in sync. Tony's repulsors lit up the corridors with sharp bursts of plasma. Thor's hammer crackled and danced with thunder as he hurled bolts of lightning down hallways, frying anything in their path. Ben barreled ahead like a freight train, smashing through walls, Chitauri, and whatever else got in his way. Nathan, still in Cyborg form, fired precise energy blasts from his arm cannon, disintegrating anything that tried to flank them.
The Chitauri came in waves—mindless, aggressive, unrelenting. But coordination made the difference. The team moved like they'd done this before, covering angles, backing each other up, clearing room with brutal efficiency.
Another twelve minutes passed in a flurry of combat and movement. Eventually, they reached their target: a massive chamber at the ship's core, humming with unstable energy. A towering cooling unit sat at its center, surrounded by thick, alien alloys and pulsing tubes of liquid light.
Tony stepped forward, scanning the structure. "Alright, now remind me—what's this genius plan of yours?"
Nathan turned to Ben. "Time for Upgrade."
Ben nodded and hit the dial again. The flash of green returned, and his form twisted and stretched until the techno-organic alien known as Upgrade emerged. Smooth black surface, green circuitry lines glowing faintly—he shimmered with potential.
"You want me to Upgrade you?" Upgrade asked, voice now layered with a mechanical distortion that echoed in the chamber.
"Nope. Upgrade Tony's suit. Specifically, the blasters."
Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Whoa, hold on. I'm not letting some alien goo crawl inside my systems. I've seen Venom, thanks."
"Come on," Nathan said, half-laughing. "You might even learn something from it. Besides, you'll still be in control. Think of it as... a temporary weapons buff."
Tony hesitated. Then sighed. "Fine. For Earth."
Upgrade slithered over, merging briefly with the armor's arms. The suit pulsed as new alien components spread along the gauntlets, reshaping and reinforcing the blasters with adaptive alien tech. Tony flexed his fingers, eyes flicking through diagnostics.
"...Okay, that's actually pretty slick."
"Now," Nathan said, stepping up with two thick cables extended from his arms, "I'll feed power straight into your suit. But we're gonna need something bigger to get through that cooler."
He turned to Thor. "Hit me with your strongest lightning bolt. No holding back."
Thor narrowed his eyes. "You're certain?"
Nathan nodded without hesitation. "Do it."
Thor raised Mjölnir to the ceiling. Thunder rumbled like a promise. With a roar, he brought the hammer down—and a blinding bolt of divine lightning arced straight into Nathan's outstretched arm.
And then something incredible happened.
Nathan absorbed the bolt, and instead of short-circuiting or overloading, his systems channeled it. The energy surged through him into the cables, flooding Tony's upgraded blasters. The modified suit didn't just hold the charge—it amplified it. The blasters began to glow, no longer just repulsors, but cannons of supercharged plasma infused with lightning.
"Whoa," Tony muttered. "Okay. This is definitely not in the manual."
"Do it!" Nathan yelled.
Tony took aim. The weapon hummed with pressure, heat building with a high-pitched whine. Then—
FOOOM!
A beam of raw, concentrated energy tore through the chamber. It slammed into the cooling core and sliced through the reinforced structure like a hot blade through ice. The central column split with a deafening crack, and alarms finally started blaring as systems began to fail.
The lights flickered red.
Tony looked around. "Yup. That did it. Time to run."
As soon as the cooler was destroyed, the ambient temperature inside the ship began to spike. Lights flickered as the heat ripple surged through the core, not chaotic yet—but steadily building toward catastrophic.
"We need to find a way out, now," Nathan said, scanning the internal map. "Portal's still open. It's anchored just outside the hull—we came in through that breach."
Ben nodded and slapped the Omnitrix. "Jetray!"
In a flash of red light, his form shifted into the sleek, aerodynamic alien with twin bio-jets pulsing from his back.
"Nice," Tony muttered, then looked toward Nathan and Thor. "You two got flight covered?"
Nathan's thrusters extended from his back with a click and a rising mechanical hum. "More than covered."
"I can fly," Thor added, spinning Mjolnir with ease. "Shall we?"
They moved quickly through the heated corridors. The metal beneath their feet was getting hotter, and the air had turned dry and heavy. The ship wasn't breaking down—yet—but the temperature was pushing the limits of comfort. If they didn't leave soon, it would cook them alive.
At last, they reached the outer airlock they'd breached during entry. Through the fractured hull, space lay open before them. In the distance, they could see it—a glowing ring, shimmering with unstable blue energy, the portal home still active.
"It's holding," Tony said, surprised.
"For now," Nathan replied, already propelling forward.
Ben led the charge, slicing through space with Jetray's hyper-speed. Nathan followed close behind, engines at full burn. Thor hurled himself forward with a roar of wind and thunder. Tony brought up the rear, his repulsors leaving trails of light as they all surged toward the portal.
And just as they approached the event horizon—
The explosion hit.
A searing wave of heat and light burst from the mothership behind them, as if the entire engine core had detonated at once. The delayed chain reaction finally peaked—the cooling system's failure allowing the heat to reach critical mass. The ship didn't merely explode; it bloomed like a supernova, casting metal and plasma into space with blinding intensity.
The shockwave rushed at them.
They dove through the portal.
And then—
They were back.
New York City blazed in light as the other end of the portal lit up the sky. A silent burst in the heavens—no sound, only the haunting beauty of a star-like flare as the Chitauri mothership tore itself apart in orbit.
On the rooftop where they first departed, the four crashed down hard—Jetray reverting back to Ben mid-tumble, Tony skidding along the roof, Thor landing with a thunderous boom, and Nathan floating down last with flickering thrusters.
"Okay…" Tony groaned, lying flat. "This time… maybe we overdid it."
Ben sat up, panting, his hair smoking slightly. "Worth it."
Nathan grinned. "Told you the plan would work."
Thor exhaled slowly, looking to the sky. "A worthy explosion… I will not miss that ship."
They all looked up at the heavens—at the last light of the mothership's demise slowly fading from the night sky. New York had survived. Earth had survived.
The Chaturi army started to fall, without the hivemind they couldn't perform, now all they needed was to close the portals. Yet it happened automatically… suddenly the portals closed.
To understand why that happened, let's go back a bit.
As angels have attacked Gabrial who was posing as Loki, Micheal soon realised that either there was another archangel involved or Asgardians have just become too good at dealing against the heaven.
Yet the biggest problem was Lucifer, for some reason Lucifer had become extremely aggressive, bringing up the army of Demons to attack the heavens directly.
If Micheal were to go down himself to find the mind stone, things in heaven would get complicated.
In the end he decided Raphael (The Archangel) was the best choice.
The sky above Stark Tower was fractured with energy, pulsing as the last Chitauri portal spun chaotically in the air. "Loki" stood atop the platform, watching it flicker. The scepter hung loosely in his hand, glowing faintly.
Behind him, a gust of shimmering gold spiraled into existence.
Wings unfolded—vast, radiant, unshakably calm.
Raphael, Archangel of Heaven.
His eyes studied the figure ahead.
"Loki of Asgard," he said, voice even. "You've interfered in matters far beyond your realm. The artifact—give it to me."
The man in green didn't turn. He gazed up at the portal as if lost in thought. Then, softly, "Isn't it fascinating… how everyone wants something from me today?"
He turned slowly, the grin already forming. "And here I thought your kind preferred to stay behind the veil."
"You shouldn't have crossed it."
"No one told the Chitauri that." His voice was smooth, disturbingly calm. The faintest glow danced behind his eyes—but it didn't match anything Raphael recognized. Not quite Asgardian… not quite angelic either.
Nearby, Selvig clutched the edge of the console, half-collapsed. His lips moved in a whisper: "Angels… gods… no, not again…"
Raphael ignored the human. His focus remained on the scepter.
"You're wielding something you don't understand."
"Oh, I understand more than most," Loki replied. "And this?" He twirled the scepter once. "Why does Heaven even want it?"
Raphael stepped forward. "It holds something beyond your understanding. It belongs to Heaven."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Like that's ever worked before."
Without warning, he fired a strange energy blast.
Raphael deflected it with a flick of his hand, but frowned. There was something about the energy—an undertone that didn't belong to Asgardian craftsmanship. It was layered, cloaked in trickery. Possibly an artifact touched by celestial magic—stolen, maybe… or inherited. But not forged in any forge of the Nine Realms.
Not directly.
"You've tampered with something angelic."
Loki's grin widened. "You say that like it's forbidden. Surely if angels never intended for these trinkets to be touched, they should've hidden them better."
The wind around them began to build. The scepter pulsed brighter in response.
At the console, Selvig suddenly snapped, shouting at the controls. "No, stop—stop it—what are you doing?!"
Just then, the sky beyond the portals lit up in an enormous flash. A thunderous bloom of energy—the Chitauri mothership had exploded.
Loki was already moving, fingers gliding across the console with unearthly precision. Lines of alien code shifted as the portal nodes blinked in and out of sync.
All across the world, portals began collapsing. The sky flickered.
Chitauri ships vanished mid-flight.
Raphael stepped forward, sharp. "What are you doing?!"
"Cleaning up," Loki said calmly. "The show's over."
One final sequence finished. The last portal above them pulsed—then folded into itself.
Silence.
Raphael's voice turned cold. "That device—what are you planning to do with it now?"
"Me?" Loki feigned surprise. "I'm going on a little trip."
A portal opened behind him. Not Chitauri. Not Asgardian. A deeper cut—folded space, absence and darkness. Even Raphael couldn't recognize the spellwork.
Loki stepped backward toward it.
Raphael summoned a blade of light. "You're not going anywhere until I get that scepter."
Loki paused at the edge. "Examine it all you like."
Then, casually, he tossed the scepter at Raphael's feet—
Except as it landed, it transformed into a silver lighter.
It clicked open. Fwoosh.
A ring of holy fire burst forth, encircling Raphael in a perfect trap.
He stopped short, one wing catching a sear at the edge.
His eyes narrowed. "Clever," he said quietly.
Loki offered a final smirk, stepping into the portal. "I try."
And then he was gone.
The holy fire roared in his wake, cutting off pursuit.
Raphael stood in the fading light, eyes fixed on the now-empty sky.
Whatever "Loki" had just done—it wasn't merely Asgardian. He had used something that truly bore angelic influence…
Someone had just slipped through Heaven's grasp.