The smoke hadn't even cleared when Tony's HUD blared a new alert across his visor. Radiation readings from the pod's implosion flickered in strange, inconsistent pulses. Not Tesseract-based. Not Earth-native either.
"Fury's going to love this," Tony muttered, drifting closer to the fading crater, his repulsors flaring as he hovered. "Alien surveillance tech now showing up like Amazon Prime deliveries."
Below him, the street was torn apart. The blast from Alexander's final strike had scorched everything around it—cracked pavement, scorched metal, and a faint hum still lingered in the air like static before a storm.
Alexander stood at the edge of the smoldering pit, silent. His posture was still, but the shadows around his armor twitched like they were alive—like they were listening.
Natasha dropped down from the nearby rooftop, landing softly behind them. She kept her sidearm holstered but ready, eyes scanning the damage. Her gaze lingered on Alexander, not with fear—but with growing unease.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
Alexander didn't turn. "I'm alive. That's enough."
Tony landed with a dull thud nearby, the faceplate of his helmet retracting. "So... what was that armor thing you just did? I've seen all kinds of weird tech—usually from myself—but that looked more like a full-on metamorphosis."
Alexander finally turned to face them. His expression was calm, but his eyes betrayed the toll the fight had taken. The deep violet hue still glowed faintly beneath his skin.
"It wasn't planned," he said. "It responded to the threat. The shadows evolved when I was close to death. A reflex."
Natasha frowned. "So it's adaptive."
"Only under pressure. I don't control it. Not fully."
Before anyone could say more, a low rumble coursed through the ground beneath them. Subtle, but rhythmic—like a heartbeat.
Tony looked down, eyes narrowing. "Picking up a low-frequency pulse... Something underground. Could be the city's grid, but—"
Alexander interrupted, voice low and sharp. "No. That's not the city."
He crouched slightly, extending his fingers toward the fractured concrete. The shadows at his feet stretched outward like ink in water, weaving into the cracks of the street. The surrounding light dimmed unnaturally, casting the block into a momentary twilight.
And then—nothing.
The signal cut off.
Alexander pulled back slowly, a chill creeping into his stance. "They were scanning me. Monitoring my response."
"Who's they?" Tony asked, stepping closer. "Chitauri? HYDRA? Someone new?"
Alexander shook his head. "I don't know. But I think it's tied to Loki. That surveillance pod wasn't targeting the battlefield. It was targeting me."
Before Tony or Natasha could respond, Natasha's gaze darted skyward.
A SHIELD Quinjet emerged from the clouds—rotors silent, almost ghost-like. Its searchlight flared to life, casting a cone of harsh white over the scorched street.
"We've got inbound," Tony muttered, activating his faceplate.
Alexander stepped backward, the edges of his form already blurring into shadow.
"Wait." Natasha stepped forward, her tone firmer now. "You're not going to disappear again, are you?"
He hesitated.
"I have to find Loki," Alexander said. "If he's already moving, we're behind. He won't wait for us to catch up."
Tony raised a brow. "You think he's still making plays after escaping the Helicarrier?"
Alexander nodded. "He's not done yet. And the next move... it won't be subtle."
The Quinjet dipped lower, searchlight sweeping. Soldiers were visible inside—armed, ready.
Alexander turned away.
"Tell Fury to stop watching and start preparing," he said.
And then he vanished into the shadows.
But high above the city, amidst clouds and blinking satellites, a new transmission pulsed to life—untraceable, encrypted, and marked by one familiar signature.
Loki's.
End of Chapter 72
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