"Wha—what?"
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s mechanical voice crackled with unprecedented distortion, stopping Tony's cocky smirk mid-formation. The holographic displays surrounding him flickered with chaotic bursts of static.
"You're not seriously telling me this stuff is real, are you?" Tony's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his eyes narrowing at the impossible data flooding his screens.
Invasion of the heavens?
His jaw clenched so tight he could taste metal. The supermodels draped over his shoulders—whose names he'd already forgotten—suddenly felt like deadweight. Their perfume, cloying. Their giggles, insufferable.
What kind of cosmic joke is this?
This violated everything he knew! Other worlds? Fine, the math supported that. But magic? Witchcraft? Gods? Ridiculous! Tony Stark worshipped at the altar of science, of cold, beautiful equations that explained the universe without mystical nonsense.
He flung himself into his chair, fingers dancing across holographic keyboards as he attacked the problem.
"A hacker outclassing me?" He broke into a razor-sharp laugh that held no humor. "Now that's worth getting out of bed for."
His gaze burned into J.A.R.V.I.S.'s central processor, watching diagnostic after diagnostic fail spectacularly. A tingle of excitement—genuine excitement—crawled up his spine for the first time in years.
An electronic information system that can overpower mine?
"Oh, honey," he whispered to the invisible adversary, "you just made the biggest mistake of your digital life."
Kamar-Taj – The Sanctuary
"Hmm?"
The Ancient One's bare feet made no sound as she glided across the moonlit courtyard. Her golden robes caught starlight like liquid metal as her gaze shot upward to the impossible visions tearing through reality itself.
For the first time in seven centuries, genuine shock cracked her serene mask.
The timeline... it's not just changing—it's shattering!
Emerald radiance bloomed from her chest as the Eye of Agamotto unfurled like a mechanical flower. Within its depths, countless futures crystallized and dissolved, patterns too chaotic even for her ancient mind to track.
Behind her, apprentices gathered in fearful clusters, their whispers rising like wind through autumn leaves.
"Master," one ventured, voice trembling, "is this the end?"
The question hung in the air. The Ancient One's lips curved in a ghost of a smile.
"No," she said softly. "Something far more dangerous."
"What could be more dangerous than the end?"
Her eyes reflected impossible starlight.
"A new beginning."
Asgard – The Golden Hall
"Invasion of other worlds?"
Odin's single eye snapped open, burning with golden fire as he rose from his meditation. The Allfather's weathered hand clenched around Gungnir, the spear humming with ancient power that responded to his agitation.
The runes hovering in Asgard's sky burned themselves into his mind:
[Invasion of the Heavens]
[Selected conscripts will travel to other worlds. Missions may be triggered along the way. Completing them will yield grand rewards...]
[Including, but not limited to: magic, witchcraft, artifacts, technology, bloodlines, immortality...]
"Rewards?" The word tasted bitter on his tongue.
Odin's frown carved deeper lines into his ancient face. The proclamation bore no signature he recognized—neither Celestial nor Eternal nor any of the Elder races whose schemes he'd foiled across millennia.
One certainty, however, blazed clear as Asgard's twin suns.
"Heimdall!" His voice thundered through the hall. "What do you see?"
The golden-eyed guardian's voice came back hollow with disbelief:
"My King... I see everything... and yet... nothing at all."
Odin's grip tightened until Gungnir's runes flared with warning light.
"Midgard... is about to drown in blood again."
His expression darkened to storm clouds.
And this time, the tide may rise beyond even Asgard's shores...
Loki's Chambers
"Witchcraft? Magic?"
Loki's laughter cut through the shadows of his chambers like poisoned silk as he lounged on emerald cushions, watching the spectacle unfold through a window of his own sorcery.
What a delicious joke.
He twirled a dagger between nimble fingers, the blade dancing over knuckles that had mastered illusions before most races had mastered fire.
"I am the most accomplished sorcerer in the Nine Realms," he murmured to himself, emerald eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "No magic exists that I cannot bend, break, or bind to my will."
This was clearly nothing but an elaborate illusion—an impressively crafted one, he had to admit—designed to manipulate lesser minds.
Minds like...
That mountain of muscle with the intellect of a particularly dim bilgesnipe.
Thor's Quarters
"BATTLE? WHERE IS THIS GLORIOUS BATTLE!?"
Thunder cracked outside as Thor's booming voice shook dust from ancient rafters. His eyes blazed with electric excitement, tiny lightning bolts dancing between his fingers.
The cosmic message set his warrior's blood singing.
He snatched Mjolnir from its resting place, the legendary hammer humming with anticipation that matched his own. The weapon nearly pulled him toward the door, so eager was it to find new foes worthy of its power.
"Finally!" He roared to the empty room, spinning Mjolnir until it blurred. "A challenge worthy of the son of Odin!"
His imagination already painted vivid scenes of himself striding triumphantly across strange new worlds, bringing Asgardian glory to realms beyond Yggdrasil's branches.
"PREPARE THE BIFROST!" he bellowed, already halfway to the door.
Metropolis – Daily Planet
"Another group of ambitious fools trying to drag the world into war?"
Clark Kent's voice was soft, but his fingers had crushed the metal pen he'd been holding into dust. Around him, the Daily Planet newsroom was chaos incarnate—reporters scrambling, phones ringing off hooks, Perry White's voice bellowing orders above the din.
Nobody noticed how Clark's eyes focused not on the screens around them, but through the walls, scanning the panicking city with vision that could pierce concrete and steel.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on him like a mountain of kryptonite.
Not just Earth this time. Not just this dimension.
He closed his eyes, hearing heartbeats accelerating across the city—fear, excitement, confusion—a symphony of human emotion rising to a dangerous crescendo.
"Lois," he called across the newsroom, decision made, "cover for me."
She met his eyes, understanding in an instant.
"Go."
New York City – A Rooftop
"Bloodlines?"
Gwen hung upside-down from a gossamer thread, white mask reflecting the eerie glow of the cosmic announcement. The wind tugged at her hood, but she remained perfectly still—a spider frozen in mid-hunt.
"Wait... so my Spider-Sense isn't just some random mutation from that bite?" she muttered, mind racing faster than her heartbeat. "It's from some kind of special bloodline?"
She fired another web, launching herself higher to get a better view of the celestial broadcast. Her movements were liquid grace—part dance, part predatory stalking.
"That would explain why not everyone the spider bit got powers..."
A shadow of doubt crept in. If her powers came from some predetermined bloodline, what did that mean about Uncle Ben's philosophy? About responsibility being a choice?
"Doesn't matter," she decided, voice firming as she perched on the edge of a gargoyle. "Bloodline or accident, what matters is what I do with it."
Something prickled at the base of her skull—that familiar electric warning. Her Spider-Sense wasn't just tingling—it was screaming.
"And right now," she whispered, shooting a web toward the source of trouble, "someone needs help."
Wayne Manor
"Invasion of the heavens?"
Bruce didn't move a muscle as the celestial announcement reflected in the massive array of monitors surrounding him. The only sign of his attention was the slightest narrowing of eyes behind the cowl he hadn't bothered to remove.
His gauntleted fingers danced across multiple keyboards, pulling up simulations, analysis programs, and security protocols that had never been tested.
"Weaknesses," he growled to himself.
Alfred appeared silently at his side, a steaming cup balanced on a silver tray. "I suppose this means you won't be attending the charity gala tonight, sir?"
Bruce didn't look up. "Cancel everything for the next two weeks."
"Very good, sir." Alfred paused, eyeing the cosmic threat assessment forming on the screens. "Shall I prepare the contingency protocols?"
"All of them."
A glacial glint hardened Batman's eyes.
"And activate the Justice League emergency channel. Priority Alpha."
Somewhere
"The universe..."
A rumbling voice like distant thunder rolled between skyscrapers.
The massive figure stood perfectly still amid the panicking crowds, untouched by the chaos as humans flowed around him like water around stone. His blue skin gleamed like polished sapphire beneath the cosmic light show.
After a moment of contemplation, his lips curled into a smile that would have sent brave men running for their mothers.
Finally, something worthy of my attention in this insignificant realm.
He closed his eyes, savoring the moment like fine wine.
The revelation sent tsunamis through the world's consciousness.
In Vatican City, cardinals fell to their knees in prayer, fearing Judgment Day had come at last. In Silicon Valley, tech billionaires frantically bid against each other for satellite time, desperate to analyze the phenomenon. In Moscow, Beijing, and Washington, military leaders scrambled to emergency bunkers, nuclear footballs clutched in white-knuckled grips.
Some wept in religious ecstasy. Others laughed with manic glee. Most huddled around screens, hypnotized by the impossibility unfolding before their eyes.
Governments unleashed their intelligence agencies like rabid dogs, each convinced this had to be an attack—some unprecedented breakthrough in psychological warfare or mass hallucination technology.
To them, this was beyond human capability. Therefore, it was a threat.
And yet...
Before anyone could form a coherent response, the celestial display shifted again, colors rippling like aurora borealis gone mad.
[The Invasion of the Heavens Begins!]
[Scanning for a suitable world...]
[Anchor: Resident Evil]
[Coordinates: Raccoon City]
[...]
BOOM!
An invisible shockwave pulsed through reality itself, rattling teeth and setting dogs howling across continents.
The cosmic screen stabilized, no longer showing a montage of different realities. Now it focused with merciless clarity on a single location.
A city drowning in perpetual rain and darkness.
A labyrinth of streets crawling with the walking dead.
Mass Hysteria
"I—holy sh*t! What the actual hell is THAT?!"
"Jesus Christ, are those things eating people?!"
"Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick..."
Television broadcasters frantically scrambled to cut away, horrified producers screaming into headsets: "BLUR IT! BLUR IT NOW! There are CHILDREN watching!"
But they couldn't look away. Nobody could.
The screen displayed a creature beyond nightmares—a once-human thing with skin sloughing off in rotting sheets. Black fluid oozed from ruptured veins. Its jaw hung at an impossible angle, exposing a forest of jagged, blood-slicked teeth.
Then—
RRIP!
The zombie lunged with inhuman speed, tearing into a scientist's throat with savage hunger. Arterial blood painted laboratory walls in violent crimson arcs.
Women fainted in Times Square. Children screamed in terror. Men turned away, retching onto expensive shoes.
But the true horror was just beginning.
The scientist—white coat now stained red-black—collapsed to the ground, twitching.
Seconds passed.
His hand moved. Fingers clawed at tiles.
Slowly, with sickening jerks and twitches, he rose again, reborn into undeath.
His flesh already blackening with accelerated decay. His eyes—once human—now empty pools of milky hunger.
The newly-made monster joined the shambling horde, another soldier in death's unstoppable army.
Social Media Eruption
"What... the absolute fuck did I just witness?"
"That was too real. TOO. DAMN. REAL."
"This has to be the most insane viral marketing campaign ever. What studio is behind this madness!?"
"I'm scared shitless, but I can't stop watching. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!"
"Some sick bastard hacked every screen on earth for THIS?!"
"SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY! WHERE CAN I PLAY THIS GAME!?"
Social media platforms crashed under unprecedented traffic. Terror battled morbid fascination. Religious hashtags trended alongside horror movie references.
But in Kamar-Taj...
"It's gone."
"The signal... it's completely vanished."
Master Wong frowned as sorcerers dispersed, shaking their heads in dismissal.
"Nothing but illusion and trickery," one scoffed. "A waste of our sacred attention."
"Only fools would be taken in by such obvious deceptions," another agreed.
They returned to their ancient tomes and mystic duties, confident in their judgment.
If only they knew...
This wasn't just the beginning.
It was the end of everything they thought they understood.