I'd never been to New York before, though I was fairly certain that there shouldn't be so many aliens running amok. The Chitauri and their gargantuan living transports were pouring through from a portal I now knew led to Ginnungagap, the abyssal realm of space that they claimed for themselves. The air was thick with the tooth-aching drone of small two-man flying devices that launched from the long eel-like bodies of the transports, overwhelming the distant screams and explosions of a battlefront that had moved past me.

Curs. The light of Bifröst's transport beam faded from around me, leaving me in the centre of Times Square, and the centre of attention. I wore my loose blue-and-gold robes and heavy gold gauntlets, exposing my upper arms and chest - the stark lines of my divine cybernetics perfectly integrated with my new Asgardian physique. Whipping in the updraft created by the magic disrupting Amulet of the Four Winds, my gold-and-white cloak shone like the dawn.

The ground around me was littered with debris - burnt and crushed cars, possessions and bodies. The flying aliens were strafing anything that moved, and taking up positions on building tops - some kind of rocket exploded above and across from me in a ball of blue-grey flame, sending a hail of shrapnel from a huge video-monitor advertising the coming Stark Expo.

I could see a few civilians cowering wherever they could find cover, in buildings or even under the wreckage, their profiles illuminated by my cybernetic eyes. Gritty dust rained down everywhere, with rubble from where the troop carriers ground their bony spines against buildings, and there was as stink of scorched asphalt and plastic - almost concealing the aroma of burning flesh.

One of the living airships turned to me, its elongated skeletal head - as big as I, but tiny against a body the size of a destroyer - gaped wide in a scream as it turned and dove at me.

I stood my ground until it had no chance to evade, then pulled deeply on my internal mantra capacitors. A glimmering golden spider's web, a half-dozen strands thinner than a hair that nonetheless demanded attention so strongly that they were plain to see, spread in a surging flash before the charging ship.

The results were messy. A thousand tons of metallic bone and sinew, brimming with strange cybernetics, crashed against the unbreakable filaments that were anchored into the very fabric of reality. Shards of dry meat and metal dripping with dark blood slopped through the web, accompanied by bright gouts of blue flame and a hundred choked cries as the passengers within torn apart with their ship. No different from the mindless Gohma, how pathetic.

I didn't let the drain show. The last thirty years had worn down my divine cybernetics - despite my alchemical experiments it took more mantra than I could channel to create the materials I needed. My only proper mantra capacitor was aging, and the octagonal trigram-etched replacements made of common gold and silver that I wore around my waist melted after each use. Despite being in one of the most populated cities on the Earth, their people were in no state to aid me - they did not know how to direct their prayer, and while I could draw passively on the mantra of pride, it was in short supply before the invading Chitauri.

At least their pride I could harness - until I broke it.

I reached under my cloak and into my enchanted backpack with both hands, drawing with one hand the Sword of Cerebov - a thick black blade, barbed and jagged, dripping deep crimson hellfire - and summoning my vajra drone array.

All nine of the semi-autonomous drones flitted into position at my back, each a short rod of mantra-infused gold-bronze orichalcum the length of my forearm, with a hollow ball at each end formed by five claws that almost met at the tips. They crackled with the black-cored white lightning that was the physical manifestation of the mantra of pride.

Just in time for them to dart to my front and intercept a flurry of blue needle-beams from the surrounding Chitarui soldiers, firing down on me from the rooftops. Sparks of white-black lightning snapped at the incoming attacks, an aggressive shield that refused to merely withstand the assault.

Before it could be overwhelmed, as more of their troops added their fire, I leapt up, pushing mantra into my legs and blasting from the pavement with a pulse of lightning. I'd never mastered Sun's cloud-step - much to his amusement - but this was enough to take me level with the very surprised Chitauri atop the ten-story building across from me.

Of the dozen soldiers I landed amongst - grey skinned humanoids with wiry slabs of muscle and skull-like faces, wearing only scraps of bronze and black alien armour and wielding slender knife-like rifles - only two survived the three sweeps of sullen Cerebov I cast among them. Cursed fire lit their flesh like kindling, burning through their lungs as it chased screams out through their mouths.

One tried to run, only to take only of my vajra drones through the back with my contempt. The other, taller than the rest and wearing a thick bronze circlet that swept up past the back of his head, snarled and raised a bulky, organic gun the size of my thigh. The blast was a brilliant blue that crashed against my vajra shield and shattered the rooftop, pushing the array to its limits and pulling deeply on my mantra.

I made a mudra with my free hand as the smoke cleared, racing the Chitauri now raising the cannon to fire again. "Om Humkara."

He froze, held still by my spell and pointing finger. Not even the broken rooftop beneath him moved as I approached, not daring to break my command. My vajra array returned to cover my back, dancing in circles.

"Think again, fucker." Cerebov carved through his weapon, and I leant in close to his gaunt face, skinless cheeks caught frozen in a snarl. Small black eyes set deep under ridged bone brows met mine, which glowed with residual mantra. I felt his pride shatter, and drew out the last dregs. "If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little invasion was about to bring down upon you."

I kicked him in the chest, instantly killing him and propelling his corpse off the rooftop to burst against another of the alien carriers as it flew past, which shuddered and rippled from the impact. From a silken pouch on my belt I pulled a dull silver disc the size of my palm, which at my touch began spitting uncontrollable balls and bolts of blue-white magical lightning across the rooftop and into the sky.

I pushed the mantra of the dead alien into my voice, splitting the air with thunder. "You better prepare for the storm, maggots!"


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