NOVEL NEXT Chapter 298 : Unlucky Hawkeye
The appearance of General Glaive and the others was like a lightning bolt in the dark, instantly tearing through the already chaotic and brutal battlefield.
It marked the moment the Chitauri launched a full-scale assault. No longer content with probing attacks, they were now committing their entire force, determined to crush their enemies in one decisive blow.
The Chitauri ranks had swelled in both numbers and firepower.
They came in endless waves, crashing down like a relentless tide. There was no break, no reprieve—just a ceaseless barrage of alien soldiers flooding in.
Their firepower was astonishing. The sky roared with the thunder of artillery and the smoke of destruction, draping the battlefield in a hellish curtain of flame and ash.
Everyone fighting—whether members of the Avengers or heroes from the Illuminati—felt the suffocating pressure bearing down on them.
They had withstood much through sheer will and honed skill, but now, facing this unstoppable onslaught, they were being driven back step by step.
Natasha Romanoff cursed between ragged breaths. "Damn it... why does it feel like their attack's getting stronger by the second?"
She stared at the endless tide of aliens surging forward. Her muscles ached, her chest burned. These weren't the same weak Chitauri she was used to. These were enhanced, faster, stronger.
In earlier battles, she could dispatch them with a single strike or a quick burst of gunfire. Now, they withstood hits that would have felled ten of their predecessors. They were more resilient, more aggressive, and it was beginning to shake her confidence.
She tapped her earpiece, voice sharp and anxious. "What the hell is going on out there?"
On the other end were Steve Rogers and Clint Barton.
Steve had already recognized the change. A veteran of World War II, he knew what it meant: the enemy's main force had entered the field. Up until now, they had only been fighting cannon fodder—scouts and grunts meant to wear them down.
Clint's voice came through, grim and focused. "The real monsters are here. I spotted three—different builds, definitely stronger. These aren't just soldiers. These are killers."
From atop a nearby skyscraper, Hawkeye surveyed the battlefield with practiced precision.
His face was a mask of calm intensity. Even from over a hundred meters away, he could feel the oppressive aura rolling off the alien elites. Corvus Glaive, Ebony Maw, and Proxima Midnight stood like titans in the storm, their presence a weight pressing on the very air.
He exhaled slowly. "They're not just powerful—they're brutal. This isn't a typical invasion. These things... they don't just conquer. They exterminate. We can't underestimate them."
His gaze followed the trio's path of destruction. Wherever they passed, silence fell. Streets once filled with screams and gunfire became tombs. Dust, blood, and shattered bodies littered the asphalt. The wind itself seemed to retreat in fear.
Then he saw her.
Proxima Midnight. Her cruel, glittering eyes locked onto him from across the distance. A sadistic grin spread across her face.
Hawkeye stiffened.
She had seen him.
A spike of dread shot through him. He had been cautious, keeping his distance, hidden in shadow, but it wasn't enough. They could still sense him.
Below, Proxima Midnight narrowed her eyes. "Looks like we've got a rat watching us."
Floating serenely nearby, Ebony Maw's voice was cold and disdainful. "Just an insect. Not worth the effort. Our priority is the Space Stone."
But Proxima had no intention of listening.
She was bored—frustrated by the lack of challenge. Spotting even a moderately competent opponent like Hawkeye gave her a chance to entertain herself.
She vanished in a blur of motion, streaking across the battlefield like black lightning aimed straight at Clint.
Corvus Glaive saw his wife take off and immediately followed, unwilling to let her show him up.
Ebony Maw watched the two take off with thinly veiled contempt. He had no desire to waste time, but he wasn't foolish enough to let them act without supervision. With a sigh of exasperation, he followed, gliding ominously in their wake.
Meanwhile, Hawkeye had only just moved from his post when a shadow loomed overhead, diving toward him with terrifying speed.
He reacted instantly. Years of training as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had honed his instincts razor-sharp.
He dove into a roll, vanishing from his perch just as an explosion rocked the rooftop, blowing apart the spot he'd occupied seconds earlier.
Smoke and debris filled the air.
Hawkeye stumbled to his feet, heart pounding. A crater smoldered behind him—if he'd been a heartbeat slower, he'd be dead.
But the danger wasn't over.
A sudden chill sliced through the air behind him—he didn't need to look to know what it was.
He turned, trying to dodge, but Corvus Glaive was already there. The edge of his scythe caught Clint across the back, tearing a deep gash into flesh and armor alike.
Pain flared white-hot, but Clint gritted his teeth and forced his body to move.
He had no choice. It was either fight or die.
He spun, drawing a special arrow from his quiver—a compact explosive charge at the tip.
He fired.
The arrow flew in a perfect arc and struck Corvus square in the chest.
Boom!
Smoke engulfed the enemy general.
Clint didn't wait to confirm the kill. He nocked another arrow, fired, and used the grappling line to swing to a nearby rooftop.
Building to building, he moved like a ghost, pushing his body to its absolute limits.
He didn't stop until he was nearly a hundred meters away, lungs heaving, sweat pouring down his face. He pressed his back to the wall, trying to catch his breath.
His wounds ached, but he was alive. Barely.
He turned to resume his surveillance—only to find someone standing right in front of him.
Ebony Maw.
Slender, silent, and smiling with faint amusement.
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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