CHAPTER 125 — THE GATE OPENS
Tony Stark stood near the edge of the building, hands resting on the railing as he looked down at the street below. The city lights of Metropolis stretched far into the distance, bright and alive. Sirens echoed faintly. Helicopters moved far away, barely visible.
Behind him, Gaius stood still.
He did not pace. He did not speak. He simply looked forward, his posture straight, his golden armor reflecting the city lights in muted tones. His mind was already set.
Without warning, Gaius stepped forward.
Tony turned just in time to see him walk off the edge of the rooftop.
"Well, damn," Tony muttered under his breath.
Gaius dropped straight down.
There was no attempt to slow his fall. No visible burst of power, no hesitation, no adjustment. He simply let gravity take him, his armored form cutting cleanly through the air as he fell toward the street below.
The impact was thunderous.
Concrete burst outward in a wide circle as he struck the ground. Cracks spread across the road, branching through the pavement. Dust and debris were thrown into the air, nearby windows rattling in their frames as parked cars shifted slightly from the force before settling again.
It was a good thing the area was sparsely populated.
Gaius stood immediately, unharmed, at the center of the broken concrete as the dust slowly settled around him. He took a brief look around, confirming his position and surroundings.
Then he raised one hand.
The air in front of him began to distort. At first it was barely noticeable, like heat rising off sun-warmed asphalt. Then the space itself seemed to draw inward. Light bent and stretched, pulled toward a single point. A low, steady hum filled the street, subtle but strong enough to be felt in the chest.
The space split open.
A vertical tear formed, tall and wide, glowing faintly. It held its shape, solid and stable. The SHARED GATE had opened.
The first figure stepped through.
Titus emerged from the gate, his heavy boots striking the ground with solid weight. He wore thick, battle-scarred armor, worn from long service and built for close combat. A massive shield was braced on one arm. In his other hand, he carried a chainsword, its teeth motionless and silent as he took in the surroundings.
He took one step forward.
Then he knelt.
Titus brought his shield down with a solid Thud against the ground and bowed his head. The motion was practiced, deliberate.
"Captain Gaius," Titus said clearly.
Three more figures followed him through the gate.
Bladeguard Veterans.
They emerged in tight formation, armor marked by use, movements controlled and precise. Each carried a shield held close to the body. One bore a double-bit axe, its broad blade heavy and functional. The other two carried swords, simple designs, well-maintained, clearly used and trusted.
They did not look around in confusion.
They did not question where they were.
They knelt together and saluted.
The ground trembled again.
This time, the arrival was far heavier.
Something large descended through the gate, metal grinding softly as immense mass passed from one space into another. The street gave way further as the form landed, cracks spreading deeper through the pavement under the sheer weight.
A Dreadnought.
Its towering frame dominated the street, thick armor plates layered and reinforced, joints locking into place as it settled. Weapon systems were mounted along its arms and hull, powered but silent. Even at rest, its presence carried weight, not just physical, but structural, something built for war, standing where it did not belong.
Its voice boomed, deep and mechanical.
"Brother," it said, "where is the Emperor's enemy?"
The sound echoed off buildings, rolling down the street.
Gaius looked up at the machine without urgency or concern. He met its gaze through the narrow slit calmly, as if it were any other warrior under his command.
"There are enemies," he said. "But first, understand where we are."
He paused, then spoke clearly.
"We are on Terra," Gaius continued, voice clear and even. "But not our Terra. This is another universe." He added after a beat, precise and deliberate, "Terra 2K."
The response was immediate.
Titus froze slightly.
The Bladeguard paused.
Titus turned his head toward Gaius. "Terra 2K, Captain?"
The Dreadnought lowered one massive arm. Its power fist pressed into the ground, the pavement giving way beneath the weight, concrete breaking and crumbling into dust.
"Is this… Terra?" the Dreadnought asked. Its voice was slower now, the mechanical tone carrying something close to reverence.
"Yes," Gaius replied. "But this world has no Warp. No Emperor. No Imperium."
Silence followed.
Not confusion. Not anger.
Acceptance.
Then Gaius continued.
"Your mission is simple," he said. "You will take control of this city. This country will provide supplies."
He listed them clearly.
"Grain. Food. Meat."
His gaze moved from one warrior to the next, measured and deliberate.
"You are not to kill civilians without cause. Engage only if attacked or if your advance is blocked."
Titus rose to his feet and brought his shield up in salute once more. "Affirmative, Captain Gaius."
The Bladeguard echoed the salute.
The Dreadnought spoke again, its voice carrying easily through the empty street. "I shall complete the mission for the Emperor's Champion."
The sound of its voice, combined with the earlier impacts, had drawn attention. From the surrounding buildings, people began to emerge, their faces illuminated by streetlights and the faint glow of the city at night. Residents, shopkeepers, and late-night pedestrians had stopped to see what had caused the commotion.
They saw them immediately.
Armored figures stood in the open street, their forms catching the light in flashes against the dark. The Dreadnought loomed above them, metal plates reflecting lamplight, while Titus and the Bladeguard glinted in the dim glow.
A few people screamed. Others stumbled backward, not out of terror so much as confusion over which way to run this time. A handful bolted, their feet pounding the asphalt like they'd been training for "alien invasions" their whole lives.
One man, pointing at the armored figures with a mix of awe and irritation, shouted, "Aliens! Again? Seriously? Metropolis, can we get a break?"
He sprinted like a man who had clearly practiced this exact maneuver more than once.
Others followed.
Cars sped away. Doors slammed. Windows closed.
Gaius ignored them.
"This country's army will arrive," he said calmly. "Destroy it."
The Dreadnought's response was immediate. "Understood."
Gaius turned away without another glance.
"I have another mission," he said.
He rose into the air, flying toward Gotham without another word.
Above, Tony watched the scene unfold, eyes wide beneath his helmet.
He was genuinely shocked by Gaius's ability to summon people from his world. Tony also was thinking of its limits, surely Gaius couldn't summon endlessly. Otherwise, he would have brought an entire army.
He whistled softly. "You really don't do things halfway, do you?"
He launched after Gaius, armor flaring as he caught up.
They reached Gotham fast.
The moment they arrived, the sound of combat filled the air.
Batman and Superman were already engaged, locked in combat amid the city streets below, each move precise, controlled, and dangerous.
The ground was torn up. Smoke drifted through the air. Debris lay scattered across the area.
Tony slowed in midair, hovering a short distance above the street, eyes scanning.
Batman was winning.
Superman staggered, movements sluggish and heavy. Each step seemed to require more effort than the last, his posture uneven, his strikes slower.
Tony was shocked. Batman seemed to be gaining the upper hand, but Superman looked significantly weaker than when he and Gaius had confronted each other at LexCorp Tower.
Batman and Superman separated when they sensed the arrivals.
Batman turned first, his expression tight but controlled. "Gaius," he said. "Tony. Why are you here?"
Tony touched down, boots hitting the cracked pavement. He stepped forward carefully, hands relaxed but ready. "You need to stop fighting," he said evenly. "Superman isn't the bad guy."
Superman looked at him, surprised.
Tony continued, voice steady. "Lex Luthor took his mother. Forced him into this."
Superman's expression shifted. Relief mixed with guilt.
Before anyone could say more, Tony paused.
"JARVIS," he said.
The reply came instantly. "Search complete, sir. Martha Kent located. Gotham City. Abandoned warehouse. Dockside Avenue, Warehouse 17."
Tony opened his faceplate, looking at Superman with a calm, reassuring expression. "You should've waited," he said gently. "We found her."
Superman bent forward slightly, breathing hard. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think—"
Tony waved him off with a small, understanding gesture. "Fear does that," he said. "It's fine."
Batman stood a short distance away, silent, taking it all in. His eyes narrowed slightly, processing the situation carefully.
"I was used," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.
He stepped forward. "I'm sorry."
Superman looked at him. "Where is my mother?"
He said her name. "Martha."
Batman froze.
Tony broke the moment. "Dockside Avenue. Warehouse 17."
Then he paused.
Jarvis spoke softly in Tony's ear.
"Sir, the scout ship over Metropolis appears to be drawing power from the city."
"Uh, guys," Tony said. "The scout ship is pulling power from the city."
Batman turned sharply. "Clark. Go."
Superman shook his head. "My mother—"
"I promise," Batman said firmly, his tone steady and unwavering. "She won't die tonight."
Superman studied his face, reading the determination and resolve there. After a long moment, he nodded, trusting the promise.
Without another word, Batman took off, running toward his objective.
Tony sighed. "Guess we're heading back."
Superman took off.
Tony and Gaius followed.
~~~
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