Marvel : I'm in Westview Town

London Bridge is Falling Down! Falling Down ! Falling Down !

My Fair Lady

Boom!

Under the relentless assault of the elemental forces, London Bridge had already suffered immense devastation. Now, after a violent impact, the central section of the bridge finally gave way.

Countless fragments of stone crumbled into the river below, creating a massive splash. Agatha, caught by inertia, plunged into the turbulent waters along with the wreckage.

Not far away—

The elementals, composed of raging winds, flickered erratically. The dark storm clouds that had blotted out the sky for so long briefly dissipated before reforming almost instantly.

"Wilhelm, what's going on?!"

Inside a nearby promenade, mysterio stood by a large window. His sharp gaze fixated on the scene outside, capturing the moment the London Bridge collapsed.

More importantly, he noticed something unusual—the drones' formation had become unstable, their projected elemental illusions flickering inconsistently.

"Quentin, it's the shadow," Wilhelm's voice came through the earpiece, his tone laced with urgency.

Quentin Beck, better known as Mysterio, stiffened at the words. His mind raced as he processed the implications.

"Are you sure?" he snapped. "Why the hell didn't you tell me before?!"

"Apologies. Edith didn't intercept the interference earlier—"

"Shut up!" Quentin roared. "If something happens to me, everything we've built crumbles! I'm taking over drone control now!"

His fingers flew across the control panel as he redirected the drone systems. "Edith, lock onto the shadow. Target Nick Fury and the Scarlet Witch. Await my order—destroy them on sight."

"Yes, sir."

The moment the drones locked onto their new targets, the elemental projections stabilized once more.

"Damn it!"

Quentin scowled and pulled up the surveillance feed. His frustration deepened when a familiar figure appeared on-screen.

It was him—the same shadow that had previously sabotaged his plans!

Above the Ruins of London Bridge

Black storm clouds loomed overhead, illuminated by violent streaks of lightning. The atmosphere crackled with an eerie intensity.

A lone figure stood high above the broken bridge. His masked face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes gleamed coldly.

"Not dead yet," Finn muttered, a hint of surprise in his voice.

He peered down at the chaotic river below and sensed Agatha's presence—weak, but alive.

"She's barely hanging on. Won't last much longer."

Just as he prepared to descend and finish her off, a familiar voice called out from behind. The deep, almost theatrical tone left no doubt as to who it was.

"Shadow, why are you here?"

Finn didn't even need to turn around. Only Mysterio would speak with such an exaggerated cadence.

"Walk away," Finn responded coolly. "Superhero drama isn't for you."

In the corridor, Quentin's face darkened as he heard this through his earpiece. He pressed down on his mic, seething.

"What the hell did you just say?!"

Finn finally turned, locking eyes with the illusionist. He raised his hand, and in an instant, one of Mysterio's drones materialized out of thin air—snatched mid-air by an unseen force.

Then—

Boom!

With a single, crushing motion, Finn squeezed the drone into scrap metal. His voice dropped into a chilling monotone.

"Quentin, I'll give you a head start. Run now. Because you're next."

Inside the Corridor

A wave of dread washed over Quentin as he stared at the distant figure standing atop the ruined bridge. His blood ran cold.

He knows.

Worse, he hadn't acted sooner out of sheer arrogance. He had underestimated his opponent.

Or perhaps… he had always been a pawn.

Realization dawned on him like a cruel joke. His mind reeled at the implications. Had he been played all along? Had someone orchestrated this entire scenario to expose him?

"Oh, so that's how it is," Quentin growled under his breath, his jaw clenched in fury.

The pieces clicked together in his mind. It was meaningless to continue the act now. The final battle scene was no longer necessary.

Because—

The opponent was an actual magician.

Illusions wouldn't fool him. Tricks wouldn't save him.

Unless he could eliminate the shadow.

A dangerous thought crossed his mind. He leaned closer to the microphone and issued a chilling command.

"Edith, execute order. Eliminate the shadow."

"Acknowledged."

The violent winds generated by Mysterio's drones whipped across the river's surface, creating monstrous waves. The wreckage of London Bridge churned in the chaos.

"Cough… cough…"

Among the floating debris, Agatha clawed her way to the surface. Her strength was nearly spent.

Her face was ashen, drained of all color.

The battle had been a one-sided slaughter. Against this younger, merciless opponent, she had no chance.

As soon as she surfaced, an invisible force wrapped around her throat.

In an instant, she was lifted into the air, brought face-to-face with her adversary.

Finn's eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he observed her battered state.

"You're surprisingly resilient. No wonder you've survived for centuries."

Agatha coughed, barely able to form words. "Finn… you'll regret this."

Finn's expression remained unreadable. "Regret?" He tilted his head slightly. "Killing those who deserve it? I don't regret anything."

Suddenly—

Vrrrrrrr—

The distant hum of engines roared to life. Mechanical whirring filled the air, accompanied by the ominous click of gun barrels.

Ka-Ka-Ka-Ka…

A second later—

Boom!

Explosions lit up the sky as an onslaught of bullets rained down upon Finn's position.

Above them, an entire swarm of drones filled the air. Their weapons locked onto the shadow, unleashing relentless firepower.

To an observer from afar, it would seem as though the sky itself had opened fire. The overwhelming barrage of gunfire drowned out everything else.

Buildings trembled from the sheer force of the onslaught.

The citizens hiding in the nearby structures watched in horror as the attack unfolded before their eyes.

Inside the Museum

Hidden behind a display case, Ned Leeds clutched his phone with clammy hands. His eyes were glued to the chaotic scene unfolding outside.

"G—God, where's Peter?!" Ned's voice shook. "The shadow's here—he's taking direct fire from Mysterio's drones! Can he even survive this?!"

Beside him, MJ (Michelle Jones) was pale. She had seen a lot—but nothing like this.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "I… I don't know."

Her breath hitched.

"But this kind of firepower… not even a tank could withstand it."

At the Same Time, in the Glass Corridor

"Shadow, don't blame me. People need a hero worth remembering."

Quentin looked at the figure engulfed in flames, an insidious smile creeping onto his lips.

There was only one thing on his mind—killing Shadow.

Once that happened, everything would fall back into place. He would still be the superhero the world admired.

Mysterio.

The name that would be etched into history as the savior of the people.

But the next second—

The scene outside the window made Quentin's expression freeze in shock.

On the bridge, the black shadow was still in midair, untouched by the storm of bullets. The projectiles fired by the drones seemed to be suspended in the air, as if hitting an invisible barrier!

Not only that, but the hundreds of drones had also stopped moving.

A scarlet glow wrapped around their fuselages, pulsating ominously.

Their signal sources had been severed—isolated from the host.

And the one responsible for all of this stood on the ruined bridge, arms outstretched, fingertips radiating endless crimson energy. The magic wove itself into a massive net, capturing every single drone in its grasp.

Then—

The scarlet net tightened.

BOOM!

The drones crumpled under the force, crushed like tin cans. One by one, they exploded, sending sparks scattering in every direction.

"Damn it—it's Wanda!"

Quentin's voice was filled with rage as he slammed his fist against the wall.

In his earpiece, Wilhelm's voice rang with urgency.

"Quentin, leave now! We can't handle them!"

CRASH!

Before Quentin could respond, something crashed through the glass wall beside him.

A figure landed hard, shattering the corridor's side panel.

It was Peter Parker.

He had arrived just in time.

Earlier, when he was about to jump off the plane, he saw London Bridge in ruins. Happy had been forced to circle the area for safety, but as soon as Peter found an opening, he leaped into action—literally.

Now, standing between Quentin and the exit, Peter's eyes burned with determination.

"Sorry, sir. You're not going anywhere today."

Quentin, however, wasn't the least bit afraid.

Instead, he smirked.

"Peter? You came just in time."

On London Bridge

The air was thick with smoke.

Empty bullet casings littered the ground, while broken drones lay scattered like debris from a battlefield.

With over a hundred of them destroyed, the illusion over the Thames had vanished. The dark clouds that once covered the sky were gone.

The howling winds had stopped.

"Quentin is really asking for death," Finn muttered under his breath. His face, hidden beneath the mask, was filled with an icy resolve.

Though the attack hadn't harmed him, he hated being provoked.

But then—

His gaze landed on a familiar figure at the edge of the bridge.

And the tension in his expression softened.

His lips curled slightly into a smirk.

"Wanda."

Her presence alone was enough to ease some of his irritation.

However—

"Finn, I told you, you'll regret this."

The voice was weak but laced with conviction.

Finn looked down at the bruised, battered figure in his grasp.

Agatha Harkness.

She was barely clinging to life.

"If Wanda finds out you approached her just for Chaos Magic, what do you think she'll do?"

Finn chuckled at her words.

"You think I'm doing this for Chaos Magic?"

Agatha let out a raspy laugh.

"Nobody cares what your real intentions are, Finn."

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"Deception is the deadliest weapon of all. And you'll regret everything you've done."

Finn's expression darkened.

"Enough talk."

His grip tightened.

A sickening crack echoed in the air.

Agatha gasped—her body tensed—then went limp.

Without a second glance, Finn let go.

Thud.

Her body hit the ground.

Her lifeless eyes stared blankly at the sky, frozen in fear.

For a moment, the eerie silence made the scene even more unsettling.

Finn didn't care.

"She deserved it."

Taking a deep breath, he turned back toward Wanda.

But then—

WHOOSH!

A scent filled the air—soft, familiar.

Then, a pair of hands, glowing with scarlet energy, emerged from behind him.

Pale fingers, wrapped in raw, crackling power, reached for his mask.

Finn's breath hitched.

Wanda's hands.

What is she doing?

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