Chapter 74: Do We Know Each Other? (Please Vote for Recommendations)

It was deep into the night, and Manhattan's southern district—usually ablaze with lights—had become a vision of hell. High above, the dark clouds churned restlessly. Even the howling wind could not drown out the tumultuous roar rising from the city below.

“Aaaah!”

“Clang! Crash!”

“Rumble—”

Human screams of despair and the thudding of falling neon signs echoed, but nothing compared to the thunderous sound of the enormous black portal as it crushed the surrounding skyscrapers.

Tony and Vision hovered, stunned, suspended in midair.

They heard nothing now, for all their senses were focused on that strange black space. The world seemed to shift into an uncanny silence.

Darkness spilled across the ground.

From the ever-expanding, nearly circular exit of that portal, the two of them glimpsed the universe on the other side.

Silent and impenetrable, a thick darkness filled the world. Without sun, moon, or starlight, only dim silhouettes of celestial bodies could barely be distinguished amidst the gloom.

Tony and Vision stared wide-eyed, unaware of when their mouths had fallen open.

From within the enormous portal, masses of black shadows surged forth, slowly swallowing more than half the night sky.

At its edge, New York’s normally broad avenues had long since been blocked by collisions caused by panicked drivers. Countless people fled desperately on foot.

Like ants crushed beneath a human heel, people—now reduced to ant-like proportions—were being devoured by the ever-expanding darkness.

Tony could feel his throat constrict, his heart pounding as if it might leap from his chest. For a fleeting moment, it seemed his blood rushed backward, every hair on his skin standing upright.

Even Vision, whose emotions were not particularly deep, trembled with rage at the sight. The blue-ringed black pupils of his eyes sparkled intensely.

“Friday! Can you sense what’s happening?” Tony asked his AI assistant from within the Iron Man suit.

“There is a 71.82% chance this is spatial erosion. Some high-energy entity has opened a portal connecting to Earth. The geological and atmospheric composition of Manhattan is changing rapidly. Simply put, it is becoming uninhabitable for humans.”

Tony was on the verge of losing his composure. He turned to Vision: “Can you sense anything?”

Vision touched the Mind Stone on his forehead with his right hand’s index and middle fingers, frowning in rare displeasure and pain. “It’s a very, very powerful presence. Evil, cold… Such a terrifying darkness…”

“That’s our enemy, then!” Tony muttered, half to himself, while reaching through a small compartment in his suit for an impossibly old-fashioned phone.

That phone represented a person, a team, and a promise that would always be kept.

It had only one contact—Captain America.

If Tony dialed that number, Captain America and the group of superheroes who had 'defected' during the ‘Civil War,’ refusing UN and official command, would ignore the worldwide warrant for their arrest and return to help Tony repel the alien invaders threatening Earth.

Tony hesitated.

The Civil War had not been a matter of right or wrong, but a conflict of principles. Tony believed superheroes should be regulated by governments and the UN. Captain America thought they should act according to their inner sense of justice.

Tony always felt that calling this number would be an admission of defeat to Steve.

“Mr. Stark!” A voice snapped Tony from his thoughts.

Following the direction of the call, Tony saw, atop a nearby skyscraper’s spire, a lithe figure clad in blue pants and a red hooded bodysuit.

It was Peter Parker—Spider-Man, a young man.

With Peter, Tony always felt half a father. Instinctively, he wished to keep Peter away from danger, but found himself unable to say it.

A hero, after all, is one who stands up in humanity’s darkest hour.

If you flee from danger, you don’t deserve the name.

And Spider-Man was one of the few hero-level assets on Tony’s side.

“Peter, you’re here?”

“Of course, this is New York!” Peter replied as if it were only natural, then asked, “Mr. Stark, do you know what’s happening?”

“I…” Tony almost admitted he had no idea, when Friday suddenly alerted him.

On the display inside the Iron Man mask, one particular figure appeared highlighted, with a 99.99% match beside it.

Tony suddenly felt his anger rise. “Peter, want to know what’s going on? Follow me. Vision, you too.”

Washington Square lay between Greenwich Village and the East Village, surrounded by New York’s most bohemian freedom and decadence. Since its establishment, the western Greenwich Village had become a haven for writers and artists.

Now, it was in ruins.

Nearly everyone was fleeing away from danger—even the bravest firefighters and police officers, after a brief hesitation, joined the stampede.

Who were they kidding?

This kind of overwhelming terror wasn’t something ordinary people could confront!

Yet a handful of people stood out even more than pillars of strength. They advanced toward Washington Square, moving swiftly against the flow of the crowd, heading for the expanding darkness.

But they were quickly entangled—no, to be precise, they were followed by several heavyweights.

Above the street, nestled between skyscrapers, Spider-Man swung along on his webs, nonchalantly keeping pace with the three, moving like a pendulum.

To the left, Vision flew smoothly ten meters above the ground. On the right, Iron Man soared less than two meters above street level, nearly colliding with cars jammed against the curb.

Iron Man’s irreverent voice rang out: “Hey! What a surprise—our Grand Sorcerer ‘Merlin’ himself! Fancy meeting you in New York again. It’s rare that you’re not disguised as if you’re headed to a costume party.”

Merlin was deeply annoyed.

Why had he gotten involved with this bunch?

Well, to be fair, the Avengers headquarters was in New York.

But—

“It’s an honor, Mr. Tony Stark... but do we know each other?” Merlin had barely finished before the Avengers erupted in reaction.

Iron Man staggered, nearly crashing into a double-decker bus.

Marvel’s famed chatterbox, Spider-Man, was even more dramatic—he tumbled onto the roof of a nearby car, laughing so hard he rolled as if stricken by a cramp.

Even Vision, usually as expressionless as wood, let out a peculiar, soft chuckle.

What did their reaction mean, exactly?