Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 179

Chapter 179: The Cost of Salvation

Fury hung up and dialed again. The line rang out, unanswered.

“That bastard…” he muttered, his one good eye narrowing.

He swiped through his contacts and stabbed another name—Mavuika.

This time, the phone barely completed a single ring before the other side picked up.

“Director Fury?” Mavuika’s voice was calm and clear, a thread of impossible warmth carried on the night breeze.

Fury took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of smoke and cordite thick in the air. “Ms. Mavuika, S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters is under attack by HYDRA. The Helicarriers are launching as we speak. I need your help.”

A beat of silence stretched across the line, a moment of perfect stillness amidst the chaos.

“Understood.”

The call ended.

Fury lowered his phone, his gaze fixed on the night sky outside the window, now stained a hellish red by the fires consuming the Triskelion. He had to find a way to stall, to buy every precious second he could before Mavuika arrived.

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s loyalist defensive forces were already targeting the ascending behemoths, but it was a futile gesture. The small arms fire from ground personnel was less than a nuisance to the massive Helicarriers. Bullets sparked harmlessly against their armored hulls, unable to so much as scratch the reinforced steel plates.

Most of the air wing was grounded, trapped. HYDRA had anticipated their deployment and wouldn’t allow a single aircraft to launch. The moment a pilot tried to power up a Quinjet, a storm of concentrated firepower would erupt, turning the tarmac into a shooting gallery.

The few fighter jets that had managed to scramble into the air were hopelessly outmatched. As the Helicarriers’ deck-mounted cannons swiveled to track them, the S.H.I.E.L.D. pilots could do nothing but break formation and dive, desperately trying to evade the incoming ordnance.

The battle was grim, a one-sided slaughter that made even Fury’s palms slick with sweat.

Finally, after five agonizingly long minutes of holding on by a thread, it appeared.

A streak of light blazed in from the northern horizon. It was golden-red, a falling star burning in reverse, cutting a brilliant swathe through the night as it rocketed toward the Helicarriers.

The knot of tension in Fury’s chest finally loosened. A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

“She’s here.”

Mavuika flew at the head of the incandescent comet. Her eyes, calm and ancient, took in the sight of the three colossal warships rising into the sky. The golden-red fire of a god-queen blazed around her, a personal sun that banished the darkness.

She did not slow her approach. Instead, she accelerated.

The light intensified, the heat growing until it felt as though a true sun had descended to Earth. She became a living meteor of divine flame, aiming straight for the hull of the central Helicarrier.

The HYDRA soldiers lining the deck saw the approaching light, a beautiful, terrifying spectacle. They had no time to react, no time to even comprehend the doom that was upon them.

Boom—

The golden-red light pierced the Helicarrier’s hull as if it were parchment, entering one side and exiting the other in a single, molten shriek of metal. The vessel’s advanced armor was rendered as fragile as paper before her fire, instantly melted, torn, and blasted through.

The entire warship shuddered violently, then began to list, its internal structure compromised. Fire poured from the gaping wound in its side, thick black smoke billowed into the sky, and the piercing wail of emergency sirens screamed through the night.

Mavuika emerged from the far side of the dying machine, tracing a graceful arc against the stars before banking hard toward the second Helicarrier.

The same impossible speed. The same blinding light. The same devastating result.

Boom—

The second Helicarrier was impaled. Its hull began to tear itself apart as the fire devoured its internal framework. On its decks, soldiers screamed in terror, scrambling for emergency parachutes that would do little to save them.

Mavuika then turned her attention to the third and final Helicarrier.

This time, she came to a halt, hovering directly in its path. She regarded the massive ship, and the golden-red light around her began to condense, growing brighter, hotter, more impossibly dense.

She raised her hand.

A focused beam of pure, golden energy shot from her palm, striking the warship’s bow. The beam was a scorching knife of cosmic heat, and with silent, terrible efficiency, it cleaved the Helicarrier clean down the middle, splitting it perfectly in two.

The two halves of the hull tilted away from each other, belching smoke and fire as they began their slow, ponderous fall back to earth.

Mavuika withdrew her hand, hovering serenely in the night sky as her long, golden-red hair fluttered in the wind she had created.

Three Helicarriers. Annihilated in less than a minute.

On the ground, Fury watched the three warships transform into falling fireballs. The faint smile on his lips widened.

“Well done,” he said softly.

Coulson’s hesitant voice crackled through his earpiece. “But Director… those were our trump cards. We spent countless man-hours and resources to finally build them. There were only four in total, and now…”

The words struck home. Fury remembered the immense pride he’d felt seeing them completed, his ultimate deterrents, his final line of defense. Now, ambushed by HYDRA and turned against him, three-quarters of that fleet was gone.

Thinking of the cost, Fury felt a sharp pang in his chest, a wound that bled credits and years of work. But there was no other way. The situation had been critical, and Mavuika’s actions, however destructive, had been correct. If those carriers had reached their targets, the consequences would have been catastrophic.

Thor and Loki had not followed Mavuika into the sky. Their targets were on the ground.

Thor, Mjolnir resting on his shoulder, descended from the heavens and slammed into the pavement, shattering the concrete and creating a deep crater. He rose to his full height, a wide, eager grin spreading across his face as he looked at the squadron of HYDRA soldiers before him.

“Who’s first?”

The soldiers stared, momentarily stunned by the god who had just fallen from the sky.

Thor didn’t give them time to think.

He raised Mjolnir, and a bolt of lightning crashed down from the storm clouds above, striking the hammer’s head. The raw power transformed into a dazzling blue beam that blasted into the HYDRA ranks. Several soldiers were thrown from their feet, their bodies convulsing violently.

The others, recovering from their shock, retreated and opened fire.

The bullets ricocheted off Thor’s chest as if they were hitting a plate of solid steel, the warheads deforming and clattering uselessly to the ground. Thor strode forward, swinging his hammer in wide, brutal arcs, sending soldiers flying with every blow.

Then, a silvery-white flash of lightning streaked past him.

The movement was so fast that Thor’s eyes couldn’t track it. He felt a gust of wind, and then something struck him hard across the back of the head.

He staggered a step and spun around—no one was there.

A blur of motion, and Pietro reappeared on his left, driving a fist into his ribs.

Thor let out a muffled grunt and stumbled again. Pietro’s speed was on another level; Thor couldn’t lay a hand on him.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Pietro’s mocking laughter seemed to come from all directions at once.

Thor’s grin returned, this time with a feral edge. He raised Mjolnir high and summoned the storm.

Lightning swirled outward, erupting from him as the epicenter and forming a crackling blue net of pure electricity.

No matter how fast Pietro was, he couldn’t outrun lightning.

He was caught in the electric mesh. His body seized, every muscle locking up, and his impossible speed vanished.

Thor seized the opportunity, swinging his hammer in a devastating downward smash.

Pietro, his control returning just in time, threw himself to the side. He avoided a direct hit, but the shockwave from the impact still caught him, sending him tumbling through the air. He landed hard, skidding to a stop on one knee. He raised his head, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and smiled, a genuine spark of excitement in his eyes. “Not bad. Now this is interesting.”

Thor looked at him, his brow furrowed slightly. The young man’s speed was truly remarkable, fast enough to be a genuine nuisance. But Thor could feel the lack of power behind the blows. Pietro hadn’t yet mastered his abilities; his speed was incredible, but his control was imprecise. He sometimes overshot his marks, and his braking was clumsy.

also, his physical durability was not much greater than that of a normal human. Against an Asgardian, a single solid blow would leave him seriously injured.

“You have great talent,” Thor said, his voice booming with authority. “But you still need practice.”

Pietro’s smile stiffened, replaced by a cold glare. “Practice? Do you think we’re playing house with you?”