Marvel: I became an ancestor by sacrificing offerings.

Kur's physique changed again.

His thin, hunched figure grew rapidly to over two meters tall.

His face also changed from that of a gaunt old man to that of a dignified, gloomy, and oppressive middle-aged man.

His skin was covered with dense, ancient, dark green runes:

Those were inscriptions of fear, each one representing a civilization's dread of him.

Original Sin stood behind him, feeling Kur's strength rise like an inflating balloon, and a smug smile appeared on his face.

Earth is destined to become Kur's possession.

As he embarks on his new journey, he will act as the other party's agent on Earth, taking complete control of the seven billion people on this planet.

She slowly raised her head, her gaze piercing through the cave's dome, looking up at the unseen sky.

Father.

Did you see it?

I finally... surpassed you!

Her lips curled up slightly, a smile that contained madness, elation, and a hint of...sorrow that she herself didn't even notice.

……

new York.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Building.

The conference room was deathly silent.

The LED lights on the ceiling emitted a pale white light, making everyone's faces appear faintly white.

The electronic screens were still displaying images of disasters from around the world.

But no one watches those images anymore.

Captain America sat at one end of the long table.

Interlace your fingers and place your hands on the table.

His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

But he couldn't utter a single word.

He wanted to say, "We still have hope," but the words circled in his mouth three times, each time being stopped by reason.

What's the point of saying it?

A mortal's hope is nothing more than air in the face of a god.

Tony sat at the other end, with three laptops spread out in front of him.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, trying to deduce a feasible plan to defeat the enemy.

One plan was overturned.

Both plans were overturned.

The seventeenth plan was overturned.

bang~

The computer was swept to the ground, and the screen shattered.

Tony took off his glasses and slumped into the chair as if all the bones in his body had been removed.

No matter how you extrapolate, the outcome seems destined to be nothing but despair.

The gap in strength between the two sides has exceeded the limit that tactics can overcome.

Natasha sat expressionlessly in the corner, wiping her tactical dagger in her hand.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The blade had long been polished to a gleaming shine, but her hands still didn't stop.

This is the only way she can relieve stress.

As long as her hands are moving, she can pretend that she is still doing something.

Pretend things aren't beyond redemption yet.

Harry leaned against the wall, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

He wanted to say something to lighten the mood—a joke or a witty remark, whatever.

But he swallowed the words back down his throat.

A god is out there issuing a challenge to the whole world.

In this situation, any joke is nothing but self-deception.

After a long silence, someone finally spoke.

"We cannot sit idly by and wait to die, no matter what!"

A clear female voice suddenly rang out in the deathly silent conference room, like a pebble thrown into a stagnant pool.

Everyone's eyes turned to the sound.

Gwen stood in her place.

Her long golden hair was combed to one side, and her expression wasn't exactly relaxed, but her eyes burned with something completely different from the atmosphere around her.

It's not blind optimism.

It's about trust.

A near-obsessive, unreserved trust that originates from the depths of the soul.

"I believe that once Peter returns—everything will turn around!"

Upon hearing the name "Peter," everyone in the conference room instinctively looked up.

Captain America's fingers loosened slightly.

Tony opened his tightly closed eyes a crack.

Natasha paused in her action of wiping the blade.

But then... they lowered their heads again.

Everyone knew that Peter would be the key to turning the tide.

There is no doubt about that.

But the problem is...

Kur's declaration of war came far too suddenly.

His strength far exceeded everyone's worst expectations.

With just a flick of a finger, more than forty coastal countries around the world could be submerged.

Faced with such immense power...

Can they really hold out until Peter returns from Asgard?

Thinking about it more deeply... the current situation has deteriorated to this extent.

Even if Peter really comes back, can he really lead them to turn the tide?

That was, after all, a god!

As the silence returned to the conference room, Gwen's heart sank to the bottom.

She clenched her fists.

Even she didn't know what more powerful words she could say to break through this despair.

Bang!

Just then.

Without warning, the conference room door was blasted open from the outside by a burst of crimson energy!

The heavy alloy door panel was flung away like a piece of paper and embedded itself in the thick cement wall.

Upon seeing this, several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the hallway outside instinctively drew their weapons, but before they could raise their guns, their bodies were gripped as if by an invisible hand.

They remained in the position of raising their guns... but just couldn't pull the trigger.

Because the crimson light had already enveloped their entire bodies before they did.

Immediately afterward, a man and a woman strode in.

Walking in front was a young woman wearing a red leather jacket, with long dark brown hair hanging over her shoulders, and her eyes gleaming with a scarlet light.

Behind her was a blond young man with an expression that said, "Whatever my sister says goes," his hands in his pockets and his steps nonchalant.

Wanda Maximov.

Pietro Maximov.

"I thought the famous Avengers were something special..."

Pietro's gaze swept across the faces of everyone in the conference room, his tone filled with undisguised contempt and disappointment.

"Now it seems they're nothing but a bunch of rotten fish and shrimp!"

These words were harsh, but at that moment, no one present could find a single word to refute them.

"Without Peter Parker, you're nothing?"

Wanda's words were even harsher, like a knife precisely stabbing into everyone's sore spots.

There was a two-second silence.

Harry was the first to lose his temper.

He abruptly sat up from the wall he was leaning against, clenching his fists:

"You have no right to speak here!"

Just as he was about to vent his pent-up emotions, he saw Wanda casually raise a finger.

A crimson energy gently wrapped around his body.

He found himself unable to move.

The clenched fist remained clenched, but every muscle in the body was out of control.

The power of chaos magic to control—it's described in a way that sends chills down your spine.

"Think what you want!"

Wanda withdrew her gaze, her tone shifting from sharp to cold.

She glanced around the dejected conference room, as if she saw nothing at all.

"I thought you useless people could at least help maintain order."

"Ordering the evacuation, stabilizing public morale, or even just standing up and telling the world that we still have hope would all be fine."

"But now it seems that even this kind of thing can't be counted on you."