Marvel : The God Of Punishment System

It turned out that Jason's instincts were accurate. The Chitauri invasion was happening right now, and the massive portal had torn open directly above Stark Tower.

Jason felt a surge of bewilderment. Was there some kind of inexplicable attraction drawing aliens to Stark's property?

In Hawaii, Stark nearly dropped his drink watching the news coverage. His face contorted in disbelief.

"Oh, come on!" Stark shouted at the screen, hands thrown up in disbelief "Goddamn it! Why my building again?"

He paced like a caged reactor core about to blow, throwing his hands in the air.

"The Avengers base is literally right across the Hudson! Big, shiny, impossible to miss—the freakin' headquarters of the most powerful group on Earth!"

He jabbed a finger at the TV like it had personally offended him.

"By any logical standard, that should've been your first stop, you cosmic morons!"

Without another word, he called the Mark VI. The armor responded instantly, sleek metal plates snapping into place with practiced precision. He strode onto the balcony as repulsors roared to life beneath his feet.

Then he was airborne—rocketing toward New York at Mach 3, the skyline shrinking behind him in a blur of heat and velocity.

But even punching through the clouds at supersonic speed, the two-hour journey felt like it would never end.

High above the Earth, with the wind screaming past his helmet, a rare emotion crept in—dread. Stark exhaled sharply.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Another building bites the dust..."

...

Ebony Maw stood atop Stark Tower, his ethereal form hovering over the Cosmic Cube's containment device. Energy beams coalesced in the sky, ripping open a portal to the stars. Scattered around him lay the remains of Stark's defense robots—their twisted metal forms testament to his casual brutality. The machines hadn't survived a single exchange.

The Big Apple, America's crown jewel city, found itself thrust into peril once again. Fearless reporters flooded the streets, cameras capturing every angle of Stark Tower's violation. Their voices crackled with excitement as they broadcast the unfolding catastrophe across the globe.

Remarkably, New Yorkers displayed zero signs of panic. The moment danger struck, citizens executed well-practiced evacuation protocols, streaming orderly from buildings into underground shelters and subway stations. Some even maintained casual conversation mid-crisis.

"Hey Jack, which bunker you headed to this time?"

"Probably that 23rd Precinct subway entrance up ahead. Cops usually keep things under control there. Last invasion, I made the mistake of going through 14th Street station—place was a madhouse. I swear, it felt like a war zone from top to bottom. My back still hasn't forgiven me."

"Uh... you mean that 14th Street station right over there?"

Through news cameras, the world witnessed New York's orderly evacuation. Self-proclaimed experts across multiple nations praised America's superior civilization and social order. But many viewers shared the same haunting thought: These New Yorkers had become disturbingly proficient at surviving alien invasions.

...

At the Avengers compound, Jason studied the dimensional rift with calculating eyes. Behind him stood his assembled team: Wolverine, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Professor X, and their newest recruit, Angel.

"Damn shame about Cyclops, Storm, and Phoenix being absent," Jason remarked. "Their abilities would've been perfect for this situation. Still, no point crying over missing teammates. We've got a city to save and an invasion to stop!"

Professor X interjected gravely, "Remember your priorities: protect yourselves first, civilians second, everything else third."

"Wise words, Professor." Jason nodded sharply. "Let's move out. Handle ground forces while the Professor and I investigate that portal situation at Stark Tower!"

Before anyone could protest, Jason seized Xavier's wheelchair. Together they soared skyward, leaving their team to coordinate the defense below.

The rooftop stood eerily deserted save for the active portal device. Jason knew the Cosmic Cube's self-protective properties would make conventional damage impossible.

"BANG! BANG! BANG!"

His shots ricocheted harmlessly off the machine's surface. Even Mjolnir's lightning strikes proved futile against its defenses.

"Looks like we're out of options here, Professor," Jason admitted with a shrug.

Charles' expression hardened as he finished his mental sweep.

"I can't reach them either. There's nothing—no neural activity, no consciousness. They're more like Stark's drones than sentient beings... empty shells, not minds."

The two stood in awkward silence, surrounded by the growing tide of extraterrestrial warriors.

"The sheer numbers are overwhelming," Charles said grimly, eyes tracking the endless tide. "Only your powers seem capable of inflicting meaningful losses."

"Consider it done," Jason replied without hesitation.

He tightened his grip on Mjolnir, ready to rise into the storm—when the air shimmered. A squad of Chitauri materialized around them, weapons raised, energy cores humming with lethal intent.

Charles froze. The brutal truth struck hard—he was no longer a battlefield commander, no longer a powerful mutant leader. Just a disabled, aging man in a wheelchair… trapped on an active war zone.

Before the first bolt fired, lightning exploded across Jason's form. The storm answered. In the blink of an eye, the squad was reduced to smoking wreckage scattered across the ground.

Jason glanced back casually. "So, Professor—what's your preferred firearm? Handgun? Rifle? SMG?"

Charles blinked, speechless.

"Someone's gotta cover you," Jason added, mock thoughtful. "Of course the Thunder Armor had to be in for upgrades today of all days. Great timing, right?"

Charles didn't respond. His breath caught in his throat, not from the smoke, but the realization sinking in:

Had he just put New York at even greater risk—by being here at all?

...

Ground forces were engaged in their own desperate battle. A monstrous humanoid wielding a battle-axe the size of a car door had arrived—Cull Obsidian, one of Thanos' lieutenants. His first charge sent the mighty Colossus flying backward.

Wolverine's berserker rage drove him forward, only to receive a contemptuous backhand that launched him airborne. Nightcrawler and Angel, recognizing their physical limitations, quickly switched to support roles—teleporting and carrying their fallen comrades to safety.

Despite their combined efforts, Logan's adamantium claws couldn't penetrate Cull Obsidian's hide. Each assault ended in brutal defeat.

"INCOMING RPG!"

A rocket screamed past their position, exploding on target. When the smoke cleared, Cull Obsidian stood unscathed, mildly irritated at best.

Wolverine cursed viciously while jets screamed overhead, missiles painting the sky with destruction. Several Chitauri soldiers plummeted earthward, caught in the blasts.

"We're not alone in this fight," Jason called out to Xavier, both sensing the military's arrival.

Relief flooded the Professor's features. He'd been seconds away from dramatically sacrificing himself.

Jason's eyes gleamed knowingly. The military's effectiveness would be short-lived. The Chitauri possessed flying tanks and massive Leviathan carriers capable of decimating conventional forces. Real solutions remained with him and Xavier.

"Logan's team needs backup," Jason noted. "Time to even the odds."

...

Initially, Cull Obsidian absorbed punishment from repeated RPG and tank fire. When the dust settled, the alien general emerged completely unharmed.

"Bullshit!" muttered Wolverine.

Seeing the enemy advancing on their military support, Logan charged once more. But this time, Cull Obsidian's patience had evaporated. Instead of playfully batting aside the nuisance, he delivered a devastating overhead punch that shattered every bone in Wolverine's body.

The axe rose above Logan's broken form.

"LOGAN!" his teammates screamed in horror.

Through the haze of pain, Wolverine braced for the killing blow, cursing internally at the agony to come.

"I strongly advise against that course of action," came an amused voice. "Your hand might suffer from the impact!"

Cull Obsidian whirled to find a handsome young man floating behind him, casually pushing a wheelchair-bound elderly man.

Recognizing a worthy opponent, the brute kicked aside Wolverine's battered form and sized up these newcomers.

"Ready to regain your confidence facing this guy?" Jason asked the Professor.

"Absolutely," Charles replied with renewed determination.

Though unable to understand their exchange, Cull Obsidian bristled at their dismissive attitude. With powerful legs, he launched himself fifteen meters upward, axe descending with murderous intent.

Jason calmly observed the unique weapon design. "Shame that's not a hammer."

At the moment of impact, Cull Obsidian froze mid-swing. Jason leisurely guided Xavier out of harm's way. The massive form crashed earthward, sending debris flying.

"His consciousness is remarkably strong," the Professor admitted, slight sweat on his brow.

"Then he will get a special vacation in my facility," Jason declared as his absolute zero dimension enveloped their opponent.

At that moment, both Jason and Professor Xavier tensed, heads snapping toward Stark Tower. A pulse of dark energy signaled something deadly.

Two tall, lean figures dropped from the sky with silent, predatory grace. One bore a gleaming scepter radiating with eerie psychic resonance. The other—Corvus Glaive—gripped his infamous warblade, a weapon bound to his very soul. As long as the blade remained unbroken, so too would he.

They approached without haste, every step exuding cold authority.

Corvus spoke first, his tone smooth and detached.

"Earthlings, kneel. I may allow you to live."

Jason's mouth curved into a confident smirk. "Aliens, kneel. I might let you live."

"Hmph. You dare mock me?" Corvus snarled.

Jason met his glare, unflinching. "Hmph. You dare mock me?"

Corvus's eyes darkened. "You're imitating me now?"

Jason's grin widened. "You're imitating me, now?"

Corvus's patience snapped. He shifted into a combat stance, warblade raised, energy pulsing at the edge of violence.

Jason turned quickly to Charles. "Professor, lock them down—now!"

Xavier reached out with his mind, face tightening with frustration.

"I... I can't! Their thoughts are blocked—completely shielded!"

Jason blinked, caught off guard. "...What?"

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