Unbeknownst to anyone, the ground of Times Square had become sticky—a result of blood flowing across it and being trampled by countless feet.
This blood came not only from Hydra and the Latverian criminals, but also from the superheroes.
A large chunk of flesh had been sliced off Hawkeye's left leg; the fur on Werewolf's back was scorched; one of Jack Monroe's arms was dislocated...
The superheroes' injuries ranged from mild to severe, and the Hydra soldiers fared no better. Almost every minute, enhanced soldiers fell in their battles against the superheroes, dying on the spot.
The blood flowed and merged on the ground, a perfectly normal occurrence that didn't form winding patterns like something out of a ghost story.
Even to Batman's senses, his Spider-Sense didn't trigger any warning of danger from the blood itself, continuing to register everyone other than the superheroes as the threat.
However, as Batman continuously traced the original positions and movement trajectories of the Hydra forces in his mind, those paths gradually intertwined in his head into a massive web.
When Madame Hydra arrived leading her Serpent Squad, a chill ran down Batman's spine.
He finally understood what his instinctual sense of danger meant. Batman quickly leaped down from the rooftop and landed in front of Captain America, attempting to convince him to lead the superheroes away from the area.
In response to Batman's warning, however, Captain America only stared at him coldly before asking him to leave.
Batman could have led a portion of the Avengers and Justice League away, but doing so would only drastically increase the pressure on Captain America's team, leading to heavy casualties.
Even if Batman threw himself into the battle, he couldn't eliminate all these supervillains in a short amount of time.
Ignoring the increasingly brutal slaughter in Times Square, he swiftly contacted Venom Robin in Manhattan's Lower East Side:
"Robin! Drop everything you're doing and head to Bat Island!"
With that, Batman turned sharply and sprinted toward Bat Island as well.
When Venom Robin arrived seven or eight minutes later with a bewildered expression, he was stunned to see Batman—who had always relied on science as his power—drawing a complex, mysterious pattern on the ground.
This pattern was drawn by Batman based on the Hydra movement trajectories he had reverse-engineered, and Venom Robin felt a strange sense of familiarity from it for no apparent reason.
"Old Bat, why did you call me here..." Venom Robin started to ask.
"Draw the magic array Khonshu the Moon God taught you before we went to Wakanda, right onto this for me," Batman hurriedly interrupted him.
"What?" Venom Robin didn't react immediately; if Batman hadn't reminded him, he would have forgotten about it long ago.
Fortunately, as a creature made of a symbiote combined with moonlight, Venom Robin had no concept of amnesia or forgetting. After pondering for a moment, he asked:
"Where do I draw it?"
"Right on top of this!" Batman pointed to the pattern he had already finished drawing on the ground.
"Got it!" Venom Robin didn't waste any time. Taking the pen, he quickly started drawing with swift strokes.
The pattern—or rather, the structure of the magic array—was extremely complex, and because it was being drawn on top of an existing diagram, Venom Robin's progress wasn't fast.
More than ten minutes later, when he finished and straightened his back, Robin saw that Batman's face was solemn beyond measure.
"Dad?"
Batman's expression made Venom Robin hesitate to use the nickname "Old Bat" that he had gotten used to calling him recently.
"Robin," Batman looked at the somewhat anxious Robin. "Don't be afraid. Things are still within my control."
"Phew..." Robin breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly pressed on, "Dad, you haven't told me yet—what did you discover?"
Batman's voice returned to its deep, authoritative tone, as though he had already prepared a contingency plan for everything:
"Either Khonshu, the Moon God we met when we went to Wakanda, was fake."
"Or he was tricked."
"The sole purpose was to have us draw this magic array amidst blood when the battle arrived."
"Once these two magic arrays merge into one, the true disaster will descend."
Venom Robin's mouth dropped open; Batman's words made his already inactive brain even more sluggish:
"What do you mean?"
"I've been studying Norse mythology and Runes—the runic alphabets—lately." Batman pointed to the two magic arrays on the ground. "This is roughly a ritual mechanism designed to summon something like a demon through sacrifice."
"A sacrifice? Sacrificing whom?" Robin asked.
Batman said nothing. Venom Robin followed his gaze and saw, positioned between the two magic arrays, a short-handled hammer pattern entangled in clawing, evil markings.
"Sacrificing Thor, the God of Thunder from Norse mythology," Batman said.
In an apartment near Times Square, Manhattan.
Due to the war between the superheroes and Hydra raging outside, the family living in this apartment, like countless other households, chose to lock their doors and stay inside.
The husband locked his wife and child inside the closet, while he sat on the sofa in the living room, holding two loaded M16 rifles in his hands.
This young husband was fully prepared: the moment an intruder entered his home, no matter who it was, he would pull the trigger immediately and fight to the death.
However, as a flash of green light flickered, his eyes—previously wide with tension and desperation—narrowed, and a sinister aura emanated from his entire being.
The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk, as if everything were well within his grasp.
Picking up an M16 for a glance, he casually tossed it onto the floor. Then, taking unhurried steps, he walked over to the window and looked out at the two sides fighting in Times Square.
"Very cautious, very interesting."
"But useless."
The young husband softly clapped his hands and looked to his side:
"Amora, Batman didn't lay down the magic array as we anticipated, so you'll have to take care of it personally."
Beside him, Amora the Enchantress, dressed in a green evening gown, actually rose up from the shadow, crossing her arms over her chest:
"Loki, are you sure this method can kill Thor?"
This young husband was none other than Loki, the God of Mischief!
Or rather, his body was currently being controlled by Loki, just like the mercenary under Ulysses Klaue back then.
"Of course. This is the blood of some of the most powerful people in this world, gathered together through covert manipulation."
Loki turned his head, looked around, walked over to the apartment's wine cabinet, took out a bottle of red wine, poured a little into a glass, and swirled it gently without drinking it:
"Using their blood to draw the magic array and sacrifice Thor to the Dimension Lord is the simplest way to kill him."
"These people, supposedly the strongest on Earth, are nothing special. Why not use the blood of Asgardians or Frost Giants? Even picking someone at random would be far stronger than these Earthlings," the Enchantress asked in confusion.
"This is Midgard, the hub connecting the Nine Realms," Loki explained with a smile. "Judging by the current situation, it will be difficult for those superheroes to die on a massive scale. So I need you to draw another magic array to allow the Frost Giants to flatten this place..."
"Maxwell, who are you talking to?" Hiding in the closet, the wife, holding her child, heard voices talking instead of gunshots. Unable to hold back any longer, she asked.
Loki set down the wine glass, walked up to the closet, opened the door, and reached out to pat the young wife and child on the head.
The mother and child immediately collapsed onto the floor with a thud, though their breathing remained steady—it seemed they had fallen asleep rather than being killed on the spot.
"Even Loki, the God of Mischief, acts so hypocritical?" The Enchantress sneered disdainfully.
"When I become the Lord of the Nine Realms, they will all be my subjects." Loki smiled faintly. "I will be a good king."
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