"It looks like the world has already fallen into chaos."
As a fugitive wanted by the U.S. government, Jessica had been keeping a low profile lately.
She knew that her priority was to minimize all possible dangers.
"The world has always been chaotic, hasn't it?" Bruce wiped his hands, picked up the cup beside him, and took a sip of coffee.
At this moment, the Batcave was beginning to take shape.
With Spider-Woman's assistance, the renovation process had gone smoothly.
Now, Bruce had a dedicated storage space for his suits, where several battle suits were already waiting in silence.
However, the materials used to modify the Batcave had all been transported from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s safe houses and secret locations.
In a way, the current state of the Batcave was largely thanks to the sheer number of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hidden facilities.
So many, in fact, that even some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents themselves were unaware of their existence.
Even Jessica had been surprised when she first entered these secret bases.
It wasn't just the level of sophistication that amazed her—it was also how accurate Bruce's intel was.
Although these places lacked S.H.I.E.L.D.'s insignia, their construction methods and materials clearly bore the organization's mark.
She was curious about who had built so many of these hidden strongholds.
But Jessica understood that, at this moment, ensuring their safety was the top priority.
Of course, Bruce had a pretty good idea of whose equipment Jessica had brought back.
After all, he was the one who had discovered those locations in the first place.
The Nick Fury of this world was evidently far wealthier than the bald man Bruce was familiar with.
In New York City alone, he had nearly a dozen secret bases.
As for other locations, Bruce hadn't investigated, but he could easily imagine just how many unknown bases the S.H.I.E.L.D. director had at his disposal.
It seemed that this world's rampant arms race had greatly benefited S.H.I.E.L.D.
Bruce figured that, for Nick Fury, this was nothing but a good thing.
"So, what do we do now?" Jessica walked up to the monstrous vehicle Bruce had just finished working on.
She crouched down, running her fingers over the armored surface.
The cold, rough texture revealed everything about its design.
Every piece of armor plating on this vehicle was made from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s super-reinforced protective materials.
Compared to so-called military-grade armor, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s plating was not only far stronger but also exceptionally lightweight.
Durable yet agile.
Not to mention the various weapons mounted on this beast of a machine.
If this thing ever appeared on the battlefield, it would utterly dominate any existing armored vehicle.
"I'm going to restore order to New York," Bruce said, his face emotionless.
"This thing can withstand a direct hit from an SMAW 83mm rocket launcher. What exactly are you planning to do with it?"
As a member of S.H.I.E.L.D., Jessica wasn't a scientist, but she had a rough understanding of just how strong this thing was.
She turned to look at Bruce, who was still holding his coffee cup, her curiosity growing.
Bruce said nothing.
He simply shifted his gaze toward the monstrous vehicle.
Both he and it were waiting for the right moment to make their presence known to the world.
As night fell, rain began to drizzle from the sky.
New York City had long since recovered from the electromagnetic pulse caused by the nuclear explosion. Naturally, they were also aware of what had happened in Washington.
But they didn't care.
To the ordinary citizens of New York, as long as they could continue their daily lives, nothing else mattered.
However, for some people, this chaos was exactly what they thrived on.
With Texas declaring independence and Sentinel robots advancing across the states, the situation had escalated to its peak.
Everyone now understood—America was no longer the all-powerful force that could suppress anything with ease.
The old order had collapsed.
Hell's Kitchen seemed to have expanded overnight, no longer confined to just a few small streets.
The chaos spread across Manhattan, gradually creeping into other boroughs as well.
New York's descent into madness had begun.
Countless lunatics were unleashing the chaos that had long festered in their hearts upon the city.
They unleashed their fury upon the entire city.
Even as the rain poured harder and harder, it couldn't extinguish the raging flames of madness in the hearts of the rioters.
"Whoa!!"
"We are the true rulers of New York!"
At this moment, New York had become a battlefield, resembling a war zone in the Middle East. Gang vehicles rampaged through the streets, with thugs standing in the truck beds, waving their rifles in the air and firing wildly into the sky.
For them, at least in this moment, all traces of order had completely disappeared.
The police station's phone lines had long since been overwhelmed.
Every available officer had already been deployed onto the streets, struggling to maintain some semblance of control.
They had taken all the weapons they could carry.
But against the hordes of criminals spilling out of Hell's Kitchen, the police firepower was clearly no match for the unrestrained brutality of the gangs.
"Motherfucker!!"
Jefferson, who was on the verge of being promoted to senior inspector, couldn't comprehend how everything had spiraled into chaos in just a matter of moments.
It was as if every criminal in the city had agreed on this day to wreak havoc.
At this point, it wasn't just a riot—it was an outright terrorist attack.
Using police cruisers as cover, the NYPD officers found themselves completely pinned down by the gang members' relentless assault.
No one dared to expose themselves.
At the rate things were escalating, no one could predict when a police car would be blown apart.
"Requesting backup! Requesting backup!!"
In this situation, Jefferson had only one option: call for reinforcements.
But the NYPD was stretched too thin.
They couldn't cover every street.
They couldn't protect every officer.
"Shit!!!" Jefferson cursed and angrily shut off his radio.
At that moment, a deep, roaring engine sound echoed through the chaotic gunfire—so loud that even the relentless shooting couldn't drown it out.
It was accompanied by the sound of metal smashing against metal.
Jefferson's heart skipped a beat. He had already abandoned the hope that anyone would come to their aid.
Not even the so-called superheroes.
According to reports from other officers, Spider-Man was still in Brooklyn, taking down rioters.
As for when he might make it here, no one knew.
New York was falling apart.
The military's previous actions had locked away most of the city's street-level heroes.
There was no hope for a miraculous superhero intervention.
And the army?
They were likely still trapped in the confusion of their own command structure.
The engine noise grew louder, approaching fast.
And the gang members' gunfire was no longer just aimed at the police.
It seemed they had encountered something else.
That unmistakable, futuristic-sounding engine now roared through the streets.
Summoning his courage, Jefferson peeked out to get a look.
What he saw was a mechanical beast, crouched low to the ground—a massive vehicle, reinforced with heavy armor, dwarfing any car he had ever seen.
But what truly sent a chill down his spine were the two Gatling guns mounted prominently at the front of the vehicle.
Bullets from the gang members' guns struck its surface, but all they managed to do was create harmless sparks.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09