Crackling bursts of energy filled the air, followed by a relentless series of sharp, rhythmic impacts that echoed across the ruined square. The coordinated assault of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents was precise and overwhelming, their movements synchronized as they closed in on Max from every direction.
Working together, they surrounded him completely, their black Venom suits enhancing their speed and resilience. Energy-charged weapons fired in controlled bursts, forcing Max to react again and again without pause. Though he could manipulate lightning and even partially convert his body into pure energy, that didn't mean he could simply stand still and endure everything.
These agents were trained for this.
With their combined effort and relentless pressure, Max—who had only just awakened his abilities—was quickly pushed to his limits. The battlefield turned into a storm of clashing forces, the fight grinding into a tense stalemate as both sides refused to give ground.
Then, like a spear cutting through chaos, Captain America charged in.
He moved with explosive speed, his shield raised as he leapt into the air and brought it crashing down with brutal force. The impact sent Max slamming into the ground, the shock rippling through the already shattered terrain.
Before Max could recover, Steve followed up immediately, closing the distance and unleashing a barrage of strikes. His fists and kicks came one after another, precise and relentless, leaving no room to breathe.
Individually, the blows weren't devastating.
But the humiliation behind them was suffocating.
Max had already seen through him—seen the arrogance behind that polished image, seen how easily he had sided with lies, how quickly he had labeled him a villain without hesitation. That sense of injustice burned hotter than any physical pain.
This wasn't justice.
This was oppression dressed up as righteousness.
A surge of electricity burst from Max's side, crackling violently as he forced himself up. In the next instant, he shot forward like a bolt of lightning, charging straight at Steve with explosive speed.
"With this symbiote armor, what can lightning possibly do to me?" Steve shouted, refusing to retreat as he braced himself for the impact.
The air filled with a deafening roar as the two forces collided.
Electricity screamed and surged, wrapping around Steve's body as he pushed forward, his stance unyielding. For a moment, it looked like he truly might endure it, standing firm like an unbreakable pillar.
From the edges of the battlefield, the remaining onlookers erupted into excited shouts.
"Look at that! Captain Steve is crushing that villain!"
"That's how you deal with mutants. They should all be wiped out!"
"Wait… something feels off here."
"The electricity coming off that guy is insane!"
"Captain Steve is actually holding his ground? That's unbelievable!"
"Hold on—something's wrong! His hair…!"
"His hair is burning!"
"He's completely bald now!"
"What the hell—that's a full-on American bald head!"
The cheers twisted into stunned disbelief.
Steve froze for just a fraction of a second as those words sank in. At first, he felt a surge of pride at the praise—but then something cold crept down his spine. Slowly, almost mechanically, he reached up and touched his head.
Smooth.
Nothing but smooth skin.
His mask was torn, and the golden hair that had once been part of his iconic image was gone, burned away completely.
For a man like him, who embodied the perfect image of a hero, it was more than just a cosmetic loss. It was humiliation.
Rage surged through him instantly.
With a furious shout, he hurled his shield forward, the weapon spinning through the air with deadly force as it smashed toward Max.
But the situation had already changed.
The man who had been pinned down moments ago was no longer the same.
Max moved.
Like a blade finally drawn from its sheath, his presence sharpened, his control tightening as something inside him clicked into place.
"You've had your turn, Captain Steve," he said, his voice low but steady. "Now it's mine."
Before the words had even fully left his mouth, the energy around him exploded outward.
A blinding surge of electricity erupted from his body, the force of it sending Steve flying backward as if he had been struck by a truck. The impact slammed him into the ground, his body skidding across the debris.
Max didn't stop.
He drove both hands into the ground, and in the next instant, the entire battlefield lit up.
Lightning spread outward in every direction, converging into countless beams that tore through the area. The Venom agents, along with their leader, were engulfed instantly, their formation shattered under the overwhelming assault.
Steve gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening painfully as he endured the shock coursing through his body.
Damn it.
This kind of power—it wasn't something ordinary people could fight against.
Max's ability wasn't just about generating electricity. It was control—control over the currents of an entire city. Even in its undeveloped state, it was already far beyond what most could handle.
Explosions rang out in rapid succession.
The Venom agents were blasted off their feet again and again, their bodies thrown across the battlefield before they forced themselves back up. Their suits allowed them to endure far more than normal humans, but even they were being pushed to the brink.
They kept moving, kept fighting, like machines that refused to shut down.
At the center of it all, Steve staggered back to his feet.
Even now, he didn't retreat.
He had been beaten before—by Spider-Man, by unknown monsters, by enemies who far outclassed him. But every time, he had stood back up.
This was no different.
This was his moment to restore S.H.I.E.L.D.'s honor.
His expression hardened, his posture straightening as he prepared to charge again. If not for the glaring shine of his bald head, he might have looked every bit the heroic leader he believed himself to be.
But now, there was something almost absurd about it.
Above them, Max hovered, his control growing steadier with each passing second. The pressure, the near-death experience, the relentless assault—it had forced him to adapt, to evolve.
Not everyone could survive having their heart pierced.
But those who did?
They became something else entirely.
"I'm going to teach all of you a lesson," Max said through clenched teeth, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "You so-called heroes… I'll show you what justice really looks like."
The sky responded.
Lightning began to fall like rain.
Strike after strike hammered down, turning Times Square into a storm of pure destruction. The Venom agents and Steve himself were forced onto the defensive, scrambling to avoid the relentless barrage.
Their formation collapsed.
Even when they tried to regroup, it didn't matter.
On this battlefield, ideals meant nothing.
Justice meant nothing.
Only power decided the outcome.
Barely managing to roll beneath a slab of broken concrete, Steve slammed a hand against his communicator.
"Fitz," he growled, his voice tight with frustration. "We need backup."
On the other end, the response came quickly, laced with disbelief. "A full Venom squad isn't enough to handle this?"
"That's bullshit," Steve snapped, the restraint finally cracking. "That mutant can control electricity on a massive scale. This isn't a normal fight."
Even with their equipment, even with their training, they were barely holding on.
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D., silence followed the transmission.
Agent Fitz turned toward the man seated behind the desk, waiting for a decision.
Nick Fury sat there, unmoving, his single eye fixed on the data in front of him. The anger simmering beneath his calm exterior was unmistakable.
The Avengers—reduced to this.
Struggling against a single opponent.
Without Tony Stark, the gap had become painfully clear.
Fury exhaled slowly, his thoughts shifting as he weighed the options.
Then, at last, he spoke.
"How's the progress on the Spider-Man clone project?"
.....
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