"I admit," Maw said, brushing dust from his robe as if he hadn't just been kicked through a wall, "I did not expect you to find me.
But it seems I may have underestimated you all… a bit."
His voice carried a thin, grating smugness — like someone trying to pretend they still had the upper hand when every card in their hand was on fire.
"No doubt too used to bullying primitive civilizations," I replied coldly. "That's what you and your master are. Bullies who hide from the strong and prey on the weak."
Maw tilted his head.
"A poetic interpretation," he mused. "Not accurate, of course, but charming in its simplicity."
Loki's grip tightened around Gungnir; golden sparks rippled across the spear, crackling with his temper.
"You dare speak with such arrogance," Loki growled, "after hiding in shadows like a frightened rat?"
Maw smiled thinly — a blade disguised as courtesy.
"I do not hide out of fear, Lord Regent. I hide because the battlefield is a place for crude instruments."
His eyes flicked to the spear in Loki's hands.
"I prefer… precision."
Galahad stepped forward, shield raised, stance flawless.
"You will find none of us crude," he warned.
Maw's gaze slid over him, amused. "I admit I am surprised by your strength. It is unexpected to find someone as strong as you and your friends in a world like this. Naturally, you are nothing before my master — but still, at least worthy of recognition."
Galahad said nothing — he didn't need to. His silence held more threat than Loki's shouting.
I stepped beside him.
"My knights do not need the recognition of monsters and murderers. And that is what you and your master are — you bring nothing but death and destruction. And while I can't end your master's mad quest, I will at least end a part of it." I said as I brought out Rhongomyniad.
The lance burst into physical form in a flash of golden, sacred light.
"O lance of the heavens, pillar that binds the world to its shadow,
tower that holds the sky and the earth separated,
rise and bind, block and shelter,
separate this from that,
reverse the inside and outside,
and seal the sky!"
My words boomed through the room, and all eyes turned up towards the tear in the sky — yet it was unchanged, still pouring forth the Chitauri host.
"My dear, I don't think it worked," Loki said, as if embarrassed on my behalf.
Maw too let out a dark chuckle. "You thought your petty tricks could stop the storm? You little goddess have no idea what you are dealing with."
I just shook my head. "I did not attempt to seal that. No, Maw, what I sealed was your fate. This room… nothing can enter, nothing can leave. You have failed." My words were slow and measured, each heavy with the truth.
Could I have sealed the rift? Likely enough. At least, if I couldn't close it, I could still place a seal on it that would stop more of the Chitauri from coming through. But that was never my goal.
My target had always been Maw, and the Mind Stone, as well as ensuring that they didn't get away with the Space Stone.
I had no doubt Maw was planning something to make his escape. While it would likely spoil Thanos's plans somewhat, as long as none realized he had two of the Infinity Stones, it wouldn't be too big a deal.
But it was also something I didn't want to see. So my goal had always been to stop that. This war… it was indeed just a distraction, not just from Maw's side, but from mine and Loki's as well.
Let Maw kill a few humans — compared to what could and would happen if Thanos got the Tesseract, it would hardly matter.
A necessary sacrifice.
"There will be no escape. I can't stop Thanos's mad plan, but I can end your part in it today. Thanos's crusade shall lose not just you, but also the treasure in your hand; his failure shall be complete. Loki, Galahad, end this."
Maw's eyes widened in shock as I mentioned the treasure in his hand, and his fingers tightened around the sceptre.
"All I have to do," he hissed, "is kill you all — and the problem disappears."
Cold. Calculated. Murderous.
He flicked his wrist.
"AHH!"
A jagged bolt of golden-blue psychic force erupted from the Mind Stone, lancing straight toward me—
—but Galahad moved.
While it might have looked like he teleported due to his speed, it was nothing like that. He just moved.
Perfectly. Cleanly. Exactly where he needed to be.
His shield, half metal, half wood, stood unbreakable as the ideal it embodied: equality. No strike, no power too strong for him to withstand. He was a shield of the innocent, and his defence only grew stronger the more sinful he saw his opponent.
And against someone who oversaw Thanos's slaughter of entire worlds, Maw was as sinful as he could be. He was an enemy of man, an evil that couldn't be redeemed; he wasn't human. He pretty much hit all the requirements for unleashing the seals I had once placed on Excalibur and Rhongomyniad.
He was the type of enemy Galahad would be all but invincible against.
Even against the blast of an Infinity Stone.
The golden-blue beam slammed into Galahad's shield like a miniature star being born — an explosion of light so intense it painted the entire chamber in violent brilliance.
The floor cracked beneath Galahad's feet.
The air rippled.
The mind-force screamed against him, distorting the space around his body, bending gravity itself.
And still—
He did not move.
Not an inch.
Not a tremble.
Not a breath wasted.
His eyes were steady.
His posture perfect.
His shield unwavering.
Maw faltered.
"That—" he whispered, voice thin with disbelief. "That should be impossible."
Loki laughed.
It was a sharp, wicked sound — half triumph, half fury — the laugh of a king who finally had an enemy cornered.
"Oh, Maw," he said softly, almost kindly, "you truly have no idea what you are dealing with."
The air crackled as Gungnir ignited in Loki's hand, golden lightning coiling around the spear like a serpent preparing to strike.
"Now," Loki snarled, stepping forward as Galahad held the line, "face the judgement of Asgard!"
Maw answered with his sceptre, summoning the infinite power hidden within and hurling it outward again, this time in a telekinetic shockwave so dense it bent the metal supports of Stark Tower like wet branches. Tables, consoles, shattered glass — everything became a weapon, a storm of debris converging on Galahad.
While the real force of his attack met Loki's golden beam of light from Gungnir mid-air.
I had to admit, I was impressed at how quickly Loki moved behind Galahad after his attack, as he clearly knew what would happen as the two forces collided.
What followed was hard to describe, yet the effects of it were clear as daylight. The top floor of Stark's tower just ceased to exist. The already broken ceiling, the crumbling walls, the metal supports — it all just vanished.
Galahad had to unleash his own Noble Phantasm, Lord Camelot, to summon the phantom walls of Camelot into being — the pure white walls of humanity's unreachable dream, a true utopia.
Once upon a time, a demi-servant named Mash had used this Noble Phantasm to block the end of humanity itself as Beast I unleashed it. And now, in the hands of Galahad himself, it too blocked all harm from befalling us.
"Now… that was close," Loki chuckled nervously. The devastation that blast had caused surprised even himself.
He wasn't the only one.
The storm of annihilation slowly subsided around us, dust and fragments of the tower drifting outward into open air where walls had once stood. The entire upper structure of Stark Tower was simply — gone.
Erased.
Vaporized.
Reduced to nothing more than a few glowing ribbons of molten metal clinging to bent supports.
Only one thing had endured:
The shining ramparts of Camelot, towering around us like an impossible memory carved out of heaven itself. White stone unmarred. Holy light radiating like a heartbeat.
Galahad stood at its center, shield planted firmly before him, cloak fluttering in the rising wind.
His voice was steady.
"Lord Camelot endures."
Maw stared at the walls — at the miracle that stood between him and total victory — and for the first time, the telekinetic's composed mask fractured.
"You…" he whispered, voice hoarse. "You blocked that?"
Galahad didn't even bother answering him. He just stood before me, shield in hand, ready to defend me with everything he had.
Loki grinned viciously. "You picked the wrong mortals to antagonize, Maw."
Maw's lips twisted into something ugly and strained.
"I see," he murmured. "Then precision will not suffice."
He raised his hand—
telekinetic tendrils writhing out like claws—
and ripped the entire chamber's remains into the sky.
Chunks of metal spun into orbit around him.
Shattered steel twisted into spears.
Concrete folded into jagged blades.
The debris storm formed an armada of weapons, suspended in Maw's telekinetic field, each one aimed at Loki, Galahad, and me with laser-sharp intent.
"Then allow me," Maw intoned, "to show you the meaning of inevitability."
He brought his hand down.
The storm fell.
Thousands of metal tendrils crashed forward—
—and Galahad raised his shield.
"Lord Camelot!"
The phantom walls flared brighter, their white stone reflecting the Mind Stone's golden blaze. The debris struck with the force of a meteor.
Sparks cascaded down the holy bastions.
Metal screamed.
The shockwave rippled out in a ring visible across all of Manhattan.
But the wall of Camelot did not yield.
Not even a crack.
Maw staggered backward, disbelief twisting his features into something almost grotesque. His breathing became ragged, his telekinetic hold flickering.
"Impossible," he whispered.
"You sound upset," Loki said sweetly, spinning Gungnir. "Shall I hit you harder?"
Maw snarled. "You dare—"
"Yes," Loki said, thrusting forward.
Gungnir released a golden torrent that tore across the remains of Stark Tower like divine judgement. Maw threw up a telekinetic barrier — his strongest yet — but Gungnir's strike cracked it like glass.
Maw screamed as he was hurled backward through the air, slamming into the far edge of my sealing barrier with enough force to warp it visibly.
He fell to one knee, clutching the sceptre, gasping.
I had seen it clearly — at the last moment, he had managed to move the sceptre into the path of the blast, using it to shield himself. It had ensured he survived, but he did not escape unscathed.
His arrogance still clung to him, but it now trembled — shaken, cracked, bleeding uncertainty.
"You…" Maw croaked. "A mere regent… wielding this much power—?"
Loki stalked forward, eyes glowing with divine fire.
"I am Loki Odinson," he growled. "Lord Regent of Asgard. Slayer of Frost Giants. Wielder of Gungnir. Protector of the Nine Realms."
He raised the spear.
"And you," he said, pointing it directly at Maw's heart, "are nothing but Thanos's dog."
Maw's face twisted — anger, shame, desperation all at war behind his eyes.
"You think you have won?" he rasped. "Without that spear you would be nothing!"
"And without your head you would be nothing but a corpse," I replied coldly, tired of his arrogance. "Loki, it's time to finish this."
Loki didn't need to be told twice. "Gladly!"
(End of chapter)
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