Mark's baton struck Corvus Glaive square in the chin with a sharp crack, sending his head snapping back. Without missing a beat, Mark spun on his heel, his movements fluid and precise. He brought his left elbow crashing into the side of Corvus's head, the force of the blow sending the assassin reeling.
Corvus staggered, attempting to regain his balance and shift his position to counterattack, but Mark was relentless. Before Corvus could react, Mark launched a powerful kick into his chest, the impact forcing the wind out of Corvus's lungs and sending him skidding backward across the battlefield.
Breathing heavily, Corvus glared at Mark, disbelief etched across his face. He struggled to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "How can a mere human like you possess such strength?!" Corvus spat, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.
Mark's eyes were aflame with rage as he stared down at Corvus Glaive, the fury of losing his friend, Loe, fueling his every move. His grip tightened around his batons, and he charged forward with the force of a storm.
Corvus raised his glaive to meet the onslaught, but Mark was faster than before. Fueled by the serum coursing through his veins, his strength and speed were a hundredfold. Mark feinted with his right baton, drawing Corvus's glaive to block. Then, in a brutal, lightning-fast motion, he slammed his left baton into Corvus's side, the sound of ribs cracking under the impact echoing through the air.
Corvus grunted in pain, his breath ragged, but before he could react, Mark followed with a vicious strike to his knee, shattering the joint. The assassin collapsed to one knee, but Mark didn't let up. He swung both batons in an overhead arc, slamming them down onto Corvus's shoulders with bone-shattering force.
Corvus cried out in agony, the glaive slipping from his grasp as the pain overwhelmed him. His body shook, trying to rise, but Mark was relentless.
"You asked how I have this strength," Mark snarled, driving his knee into Corvus's face, blood splattering across the ground. "It's not just power. It's rage. It's vengeance."
Corvus, his face bloodied and bruised, tried to swing a desperate punch, but Mark caught his wrist midair and twisted it savagely until the bones snapped. Corvus screamed in agony, his body slumping.
Mark didn't hesitate. He unleashed a flurry of brutal baton strikes—first to Corvus's ribs, then his face, then his chest. Each strike landed with the force of a sledgehammer, cracking bones and tearing flesh. Corvus's body jerked with each hit, his once smug demeanor now reduced to a gasping, blood-soaked mess.
Mark's eyes blazed with fury. He spun, delivering a crushing kick to Corvus's midsection, sending him flying backward into a pile of rubble. Corvus hit the ground hard, coughing up blood, his body broken and battered.
Corvus tried to pull himself up, but Mark was on him in an instant. He grabbed Corvus by the throat and slammed him into the ground, pinning him with a terrifying force.
"You think you're invincible," Mark growled, his face inches from Corvus's. "But you're nothing."
He raised one of his batons high and brought it down with a sickening crack onto Corvus's face. The glaive-wielding assassin's skull fractured under the force, blood pouring from the wound. Corvus's body spasmed, but Mark showed no mercy. He continued to rain down blows—baton strikes smashing into Corvus's already battered body until the assassin lay limp and broken.
Corvus gasped weakly, barely clinging to life. His once proud and fearsome demeanor was gone, replaced by a pitiful, wheezing shadow of his former self.
Mark stood over him, blood splattered across his face, his chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. He dropped his batons to the ground, staring down at the nearly lifeless body of Corvus Glaive.
"This is for Loe.." Mark said, his voice low and filled with finality. Without another word, he lifted Corvus by the throat, his grip tightening as Corvus gasped for air. With a sickening crunch, Mark snapped Corvus's neck, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground.
Corvus Glaive, the once feared warrior, lay dead at Mark's feet.
Mark wiped the blood from his face, his heart still racing with adrenaline. He looked back at Emily, who watched in silent awe. Then, he whispered, "It's over."
Mark's transformation when overwhelmed by his emotions was not new, but with the serum Michael had given him, those traits had become more pronounced—almost primal. It was the same in the 1950s, back when Mark was still discovering who he was, and why people began to call him "The Wild Beast."
Whenever rage consumed him, like it did now after losing Loe, Mark's strength grew exponentially, turning him into a force of nature. His movements became less about calculated strikes and more about raw, unrelenting power. It was as if the serum fed off his emotions, amplifying every muscle, every instinct, and every drive to fight until there was nothing left standing.
Michael had recognized this trait early on. Even before the serum, Mark's emotions were a key to unlocking his potential. In moments of deep anger or overwhelming stress, his body would push past its limits. But after receiving the serum, Mark's transformation into the "Wild Beast"
When Michael first saw it back in the day, he had told Mark, "You're not just a man when you're angry. You're a beast, untamable and wild. That's why I'm calling you 'Nightwing, The Wild Beast.' When you let that side of you out, no one can stand against you."
Now, standing over the lifeless body of Corvus Glaive, Mark had become that beast once again. The raw power flowing through his veins felt unstoppable, but it came at a cost—he always felt on the edge of losing control. His chest still heaved with the aftershocks of battle, his muscles thrumming with energy that demanded release.
...............
The battle raged on as the X-Men fought tooth and nail against the relentless onslaught of Chitauri invaders. With each passing moment, the urgency in Professor X's voice echoed louder in their minds: Thanos was coming.
Gambit, still flipping through the battlefield with effortless grace, charged more cards with kinetic energy. "Guess we better clear this mess up before the big guy shows, non?" he quipped, hurling them into a group of Chitauri. The resulting explosions lit up the sky in bursts of purple energy, sending the aliens flying in every direction.
Meanwhile, Wolverine was a bloodied, savage force of destruction. His claws gleamed as he tore into the Chitauri ranks, ripping through armor, flesh, and bone with brutal efficiency. He could smell their fear, hear their weak attempts at rallying as he disemboweled them one after another. "I ain't got time for this!" he growled, plunging his claws into the chest of a Chitauri warrior and twisting them, eliciting a sickening crunch.
Beside him, Cyclops unleashed another massive optic blast, cutting a swath through the aliens. His visor pulsed with energy as he carefully aimed, taking out dozens of Chitauri with each shot. "We're getting overrun here!" he shouted, gritting his teeth as more aliens poured into the streets. "We need to focus our firepower!"
Storm soared overhead, her white eyes glowing as she summoned a tempest of wind and lightning. A powerful bolt streaked down from the darkened clouds, frying several Chitauri in one strike. Her control over the elements was unmatched, and as the winds howled, they swept up entire groups of Chitauri, tossing them into buildings or hurling them into the sky. "Keep pushing forward!" Storm called out, her voice booming like thunder as the weather bent to her will.
Below, Beast was fighting with his usual mix of animalistic fury and intellectual precision. He leaped from enemy to enemy, using his immense strength to crush Chitauri skulls, his claws raking through their ranks. "I must say, they're incredibly tenacious for such mindless brutes!" he mused, flipping over a Chitauri, grabbing its arm, and slamming it into the ground.
Iceman, skating across an ice ramp he created in mid-air, froze an entire platoon of Chitauri with a single wave of his hand. "Frozen alien popsicles, anyone?" he joked, smashing through the frozen invaders with a powerful kick, shattering them into icy fragments.
But as powerful as the X-Men were, the Chitauri seemed endless.
Gambit, still trying to get Rogue's attention, launched himself into another group of Chitauri, charging a whole stack of cards. He threw them in all directions, the explosion so massive that it sent a shockwave across the battlefield. Rogue, busy smashing aliens into walls, barely glanced at him. "You're showing off again, Remy!" she yelled, tossing a Chitauri through the air.
"Can't help it, chérie!" Gambit replied with a cocky grin, spinning around and taking down another alien with his bo staff.
Above them, Angel swooped down, his metal wings slicing through the Chitauri like blades. His aerial attacks were relentless, cutting down enemy after enemy. "We need to cut them off from the source!" Angel shouted, scanning the area for any sign of leadership among the Chitauri.
Suddenly, the ground shook as an enormous figure entered the battlefield. It was a Chitauri general, towering over the other soldiers, with thick armor and a massive energy weapon in its hand. It roared, charging at Cyclops and Wolverine.
"I'll take this one!" Wolverine snarled, charging headlong into the general with reckless abandon. His claws slashed through its armor, but the general's size made it a formidable foe. It swung its massive arm at Wolverine, sending him crashing into a nearby car.
"Logan!" Cyclops yelled, firing an optic blast at the general, but its armor absorbed most of the blow.
Jean Grey, hovering nearby, focused her telekinetic energy, lifting the general off the ground momentarily before hurling it into a building. "We have to take it down, now!" she urged, her voice strained from the effort.
The X-Men regrouped, each of them focusing their attacks on the Chitauri general. Gambit threw a volley of charged cards, Storm summoned a lightning strike directly onto the general, and Iceman formed a massive ice spike, impaling it. Finally, Wolverine leaped onto its back, driving his claws deep into its neck and severing its head with a feral roar.
As the general fell, the remaining Chitauri began to retreat, but the X-Men didn't let up. Cyclops fired one final blast, clearing a path as the aliens scattered.
As the dust settled on the battlefield and the last remnants of the Chitauri invaders either fled or lay scattered in defeat, Gambit leaned on his bo staff with a cocky grin. "Well, that was fun," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "What's next?"
Before anyone could answer, a familiar voice rang out in their minds, clear and urgent—Professor X. His mental presence surged into their consciousness with a weight that none of them could ignore.
"Brace yourselves, X-Men… Another wave of aliens is coming."
The team tensed, battle-worn but alert. Every eye suddenly turned toward Gambit, who, noticing the collective gaze, threw his hands up in mock innocence. "What?!" he said, blinking in genuine confusion.
Cyclops crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly. Storm sighed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement on her face. Even Wolverine, bloodied claws still extended, gave a gruff snort of disapproval.
Gambit shrugged, flashing a grin. "Ain't my fault y'all can't appreciate good style in a fight."
"Focus." Cyclops echoed sternly, turning his attention to the horizon as the distant roar of approaching ships filled the air.
The X-Men readied themselves once more. The battle wasn't over.
.........
In another dimension, a swirling vortex of energy crackled as Spot hovered, surrounded by dark, pulsating portals. His body twisted and shifted, absorbing matter from across the multiverse, his form warping and expanding as he grew stronger. "Aurg!!" Spot growled, his voice echoing with power as the last remnants of energy surged into him.
His once sporadic, unstable portals were now precise and focused, his body brimming with newfound strength. He grinned menacingly, his eyes glowing with dark intent.
"Now," Spot said, his voice low and dripping with menace. "I'm ready... Miles Morales, prepare yourself. Your true arch-nemesis is coming."
With a single motion, he opened a massive portal behind him, leading to Miles' dimension. The universe itself seemed to tremble as Spot stepped through, ready to unleash chaos upon his rival.
To be continue