Chapter 219 — Abrupt
"Get behind me!"
Gaius's voice cut through the chaos, firm and clear.
Tony didn't hesitate.
He had already seen enough to understand when to listen. The moment the words left Gaius's mouth, his thrusters fired in short bursts, pulling him back and dropping him directly behind the massive armored figure.
Wanda didn't move.
Her eyes were still locked on Thanos, red energy burning around her like a storm. Her breathing was uneven, her focus absolute. Everything else had faded for her, the battlefield, the shouting, the warnings. None of it mattered.
Only him.
Above them, the sky lit up.
Missiles began to fall.
At first, they looked like streaks of light. More followed, then dozens, then hundreds.
The Sanctuary II had opened fully.
The bombardment wasn't aimed.
It didn't need to be.
It was meant to destroy everything.
The sound came next, a rising roar that filled the air as the missiles tore downward, cutting through smoke and cloud alike.
People looked up.
Some shouted warnings.
Others simply braced.
The first explosion hit close to Wanda.
It wasn't direct, but it didn't need to be.
The blast tore into the ground beside her, sending fire and debris outward in a violent wave. The force struck her from the side, breaking her stance and tearing her focus apart.
Her grip on Thanos shattered.
The red energy around him flickered, then collapsed completely.
Wanda's body was thrown back, spinning through the air before slamming hard into the ground several meters away. The glow around her dimmed, unstable, her breath knocked out of her chest.
Above her, Thanos dropped.
He hit the ground with a heavy impact, one knee bending slightly as he absorbed it. For a brief moment, he stayed there, head lowered.
Then he stood.
His chest rose and fell once, heavier than before.
His hand moved briefly to the wound Gaius had left, the blood still dark against his armor. His expression steadied again, becoming controlled and focused.
Behind Gaius, Tony barely had time to process what was happening before activating his energy shields. The missiles were already descending toward them.
Gaius didn't move away. Instead, he stepped forward. His stance shifted slightly, just enough to place himself fully between Tony and the incoming barrage. His body angled with precision, positioning himself exactly where the impacts would land.
Observation Haki spread outward.
To Tony, it looked like nothing, but to Gaius, everything became clear. Every trajectory. Every point of impact. Every shift in the air.
Then Armament Haki flowed over him, reinforcing his armor, his body, every part of him that would take the hit.
The first missile struck, and the explosion swallowed them.
Fire burst outward, followed by shockwaves that tore through the ground. Dust and debris blasted in every direction, filling the air so thick that visibility dropped to almost nothing.
Another missile struck, then another, and another after that. The barrage didn't stop. Each impact landed close, some slamming directly against Gaius's frame, others detonating just meters away, but all carried enough force to tear buildings apart.
Tony's HUD flooded with warnings: heat spikes, pressure spikes, shockwave alerts stacking faster than he could process them.
Through all of it, Gaius didn't move. He simply stood there and took it.
Each explosion slammed into him. Each wave of force pushed against him. But he remained planted, absorbing it all, blocking everything that would have reached Tony.
Inside the armor, Tony went quiet.
He had seen durability before. He had built for it. But this… this was different.
Gaius wasn't just surviving the barrage.
He was choosing to take it, for him.
Tony didn't say anything. He just stayed behind him.
Even as the bombardment continued, Gaius's awareness didn't narrow—it expanded.
His Observation Haki stretched across the battlefield, reaching out to where his forces were. He checked them, one by one.
They were still standing.
And then he understood why.
Doctor Strange stood at the front of the Ultramarines.
His hands were raised, fingers moving in precise, controlled patterns as golden symbols formed in the air above them. The shield spread outward, wide enough to cover the group.
Missiles struck it.
Explosions rippled across its surface, sending waves of light through the barrier.
But it held.
Strange's face was pale.
Sweat had formed along his brow.
It wasn't just the strain of holding the shield.
Something else was affecting him.
His breathing was tighter.
His connection felt strained.
He glanced to the side, toward the armored figure standing among the Ultramarines—the Sister of Silence.
Even without fully understanding it, he could feel the difference.
A gap. An absence. Something missing where something should have been.
He turned slightly, still holding the shield in place.
"Who is the girl in armor?" he asked, voice controlled but tight. "She's… severing my connection with the Vishanti."
Near him, Metaurus turned his head slightly. He had already noticed—this one was different.
A psyker. Strong. Stronger than most.
Even under the presence of a Blank, he was still able to cast, still able to maintain a barrier like this. But he was affected, unlike the woman before him.
Metaurus gave a short nod.
"She is a Blank," he said. "Soulless. Because of that, she negates psychic powers and causes discomfort in others."
Strange listened.
He didn't question it or argue. He simply accepted it and adjusted. That was enough for now; there were more important matters at hand.
His attention turned once more, to the Dreadnought.
Through the chaos and the bombardment, he could still sense it. A presence inside, ancient, heavy, and beneath it, something else.
Pain.
Constant.
Unending.
Strange's eyes lingered on it for a moment too long.
The Dreadnought noticed.
Its massive frame turned slightly, its sensors locking onto him.
"What is it, mortal, that has you curious?" its voice rumbled, deep and mechanical, yet carrying something more than a simple machine tone. It spoke plainly; this psyker was currently helping them defend against the attacks from the xenos ship.
Strange didn't look away.
"I can feel it," he said quietly. "The pain. Constant. Unending."
A small pause followed.
"Tell me… is it what keeps you alive?"
The Dreadnought's attention settled on Doctor Strange, or at least, that was how it felt. Not a gaze, not eyes, but something far less natural. Like being weighed, measured, and understood all at once, without permission.
For a moment, there was no response.
Then the Dreadnought spoke.
"No."
Its stance shifted slightly.
"It is not what sustains me."
Another pause.
"It is simply… what remains."
Its voice never changed. No emotion. No strain.
"I endure it as I endure all things."
A final pause.
"For as long as I am required."
Strange didn't reply.
There was nothing to say.
He looked at it for a moment longer,
Then turned his focus back to the shield.
Strange frowned mid-gesture. The shield trembled, not from impact, but from something interfering beneath it, something not of this reality… and not from the woman in armor.
"…That's not possible."
The bombardment began to slow.
The last few missiles struck the ground, their explosions echoing across the battlefield.
Then silence settled in, not complete, but enough to be felt. Smoke filled the air as fires burned across the broken ground. The battlefield had changed once again.
Gaius stepped forward.
There was no hesitation. The moment the last explosion faded, he moved. His focus narrowed to one thing: Thanos.
Then he broke into a run.
Across the field, Thanos had already recovered his stance.
Ebony Maw stood beside him, composed as ever.
The debris around them had shifted during the bombardment, but Maw had kept the worst of it away.
They were still standing.
Still ready.
Gaius closed the distance, then halted as he felt something ominous arrive.
Something changed.
It wasn't a sound or a movement, but a feeling, something pressing against the world itself. Everyone felt it: the Avengers, the Wakandans, the Sorcerers, the Ultramarines, even Thanos, even Gaius.
It wasn't the pressure of battle.
It was something different.
Wrong.
The fighting slowed, then stopped entirely. One by one, heads lifted and eyes turned upward.
The sky tore.
At first, it was only a thin, unnatural crack. Then it seemed to struggle, the fracture trembling as if resisting something forcing it open. But it widened anyway. The edges twisted and pulled apart as though reality itself were being forced open from within.
There was no light beyond it, no color, only darkness.
Not empty darkness, but something deeper.
Something that felt alive.
The air around it warped and bent in ways that made no sense. The ground beneath them trembled faintly, as though the world itself rejected what it was seeing.
Then something moved within the tear.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
A shape began to emerge.
At first it was unclear, too large, too distorted. But as it pushed further through, it became visible.
It had no fixed form. It couldn't. Its body shifted constantly, folding, stretching, and twisting as if space itself refused to define it. Countless tentacles extended outward, moving through the air as though they did not follow the same rules as everything else.
At its center was an eye.
Watching.
No one moved, not at first.
Even the strongest among them felt it. That sense that something was wrong.
Not just dangerous.
Wrong.
Doctor Strange's eyes widened in shock.
His lips parted, but nothing came out at first.
"…no…"
"…it can't be."
Then his mouth opened fully.
"It's Shuma-Gorath…?!"
His voice cut through the silence, sharp and clear.
"Why is it here?"
~~~
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