Chapter 20

Hermione stood there, holding the Mind Stone like it was just another textbook she'd mastered over the weekend. The immense power surged through her, and for a moment, her eyes glowed with cosmic energy. She felt it all—knowledge, power, responsibility—like she'd just been given the answer key to the universe's most complex exam. And let's be real, Hermione lived for exams.

Harry, watching the change, took a cautious step forward. "You okay? What does it feel like?" Because, yeah, seeing your wife suddenly become the wielder of a cosmic power was definitely something you wanted to check in on.

Hermione took a deep breath, adjusting like she was recalibrating her brain to make room for this new level of understanding. "It's... well, it's incredible, actually. I can feel its power, and its knowledge is vast. It's as if a whole new dimension of understanding has opened up. Honestly, I wish I had a few hours and a quiet library to process it all properly."

Before Harry could say anything, Natasha swooped in with her usual no-nonsense attitude, the rest of the team trailing behind her. "What's going on?"

Harry, still trying to figure it out himself, gestured to the staff in Hermione's hand. "The Mind Stone chose Hermione. It flew right into her hand from the Mirror Dimension."

Tony, always the skeptic and science geek, raised an eyebrow. "The Mind Stone chose you? That's not something you hear every day." His expression was a mix of curiosity and concern because, well, Infinity Stones and random choices didn't usually mix well.

Bruce, ever the voice of reason and analysis, adjusted his glasses. "If the Mind Stone chose her, there's a reason. Stones like that don't act randomly." He paused, looking at Hermione. "Have you felt any other side effects?"

Hermione shook her head. "Other than the sudden influx of cosmic-level knowledge, no. But I'll make sure to monitor it closely." Classic Hermione—always planning ahead and ready to take on new responsibilities like it was just another day at Hogwarts.

Then came the wives, Hermione's own personal team of supporters-slash-teammates, gathering around her. Fleur, ever the picture of grace, spoke first. She looked like she'd just stepped off the cover of a French fashion magazine, which, let's be honest, wasn't far from the truth. "We 'ave always known you were destined for greatness, 'Ermione. But now, it is even more clear." Her voice was warm, and there was that classic French accent that could make anything sound elegant.

Tonks, with her usual cheeky grin, chimed in. "So, you're officially the brain of this operation now, huh?" She gave a wink and then tripped over a stray shoe. Typical Tonks. Still, her grin never faltered.

Susan, who used to be the awkward redhead of the group, now standing confidently (though still not totally believing she could pull off looking like a young Christina Hendricks), nodded thoughtfully. "This changes things. If the Mind Stone chose Hermione, we might have to start thinking about the other Stones." Susan was nothing if not practical, always the one to look ahead and make sure the ducks were in a row, even when she sometimes underestimated herself.

Luna, who had that dreamy look in her eyes, smiled serenely. "It's all coming together, isn't it?" She tilted her head, her voice soft and lilting. "We're all destined for something greater. I can feel it. The wrackspurts must be happy." Luna, in her ethereal way, managed to make cryptic sound comforting. And somehow, everyone knew not to question the wrackspurts. 

Then Harry, the one person who'd been through the most with Hermione, felt a sudden realization hit him like a rogue Bludger. "If Hermione's the Mind Stone's wielder, it means there are bigger forces at play. We need to be careful. The other Stones might be choosing their wielders too." 

And, of course, that's when the gravity of the situation hit everyone. There were still four other Stones out there, and now that one had picked Hermione, the universe was probably gearing up for an epic, chaotic rollercoaster ride. Because when do things not get crazy for this crew?

As the group stood there, exchanging glances, one thing was clear: the stakes had just been raised. But with Hermione leading the charge—calm, clever, and already thinking ten steps ahead—they were ready for whatever the universe had in store next.

"Alright," Hermione said, already sliding into her logical, take-charge tone. "Let's figure this out. But first, I'm going to need a plan, some data, and possibly a flowchart. And maybe some tea."

—

At that moment, Vision, who had been quietly observing like the world's most polite robot, stepped forward. "I've tracked down Ultron's current whereabouts," he announced in that calm, always-a-little-too-calm voice. "He's in Sokovia, gathering resources for his next move."

Steve turned immediately, all Captain America seriousness. "Sokovia? What's he planning?"

Vision gave a single, perfect nod because of course he did. "It appears he's amassing materials and technology. From what I can discern, he's building something large, possibly another army or a powerful new weapon." Because apparently, Ultron never learned about moderation.

Tony, naturally, looked concerned in that I'll-make-a-snarky-comment-but-I'm-actually-worried kind of way. "We can't let him finish whatever he's working on. If Ultron succeeds, it'll be catastrophic. And by catastrophic, I mean 'end-of-the-world bad.'"

Wanda, her eyes practically glowing with determination (because, well, they kind of were), stepped forward alongside her speedster brother, Pietro. "We won't let Ultron destroy our country," she declared, in that dramatic way only someone with magic hands could pull off. "Sokovia is our home. We'll do whatever it takes to stop him."

Pietro, never one to be left out of the epic sibling speech, nodded. "He's caused enough pain and destruction. This ends now." The guy could run faster than sound, but somehow, his stare was even faster.

Steve gave the two of them that Captain America nod of approval, like they'd just won gold stars. "Your help will be invaluable. You know the terrain, the people. We need every advantage we can get." He was in full-on let's-lead-a-team-into-battle mode now, which meant things were about to get serious.

Wanda placed a hand on Pietro's shoulder, squeezing it for reassurance. "We'll do what we must. For our home, for our people." Her voice carried that intense, mystical vibe that usually came right before some serious spellwork.

Steve turned to the rest of the group, his expression a masterclass in stoic determination. "Alright, we have our mission. We'll figure out what's happening with the Stones later. Right now, it's all hands on deck with Ultron. We need to stop him before he causes any more destruction."

Tony, never one to pass up a chance for dramatic flair, nodded. "Agreed. Ultron is the immediate threat. We can't afford to be distracted by, you know, galactic power stones at the moment."

Then he flashed the group a grin, because what was a near-apocalypse without a little Stark swagger? "By the way, I've been working on something that might help us get to Sokovia a bit quicker. Meet the new and improved Quinjet." 

Tony, with a spring in his step that said I'm-about-to-show-off-something-awesome, led the team to a nearby hangar. And there, in all its glory, was the Quinjet 2.0—or, as Tony probably referred to it in his head, the *StarkJet.*

The thing was sleek, shiny, and about as subtle as Tony's ego. It looked like it could take on a fleet of alien invaders and then cruise over to Malibu for a quick beach party.

"Whoa," Clint remarked, clearly impressed despite himself. "You really outdid yourself this time, Stark."

Tony smirked, doing that thing where he tried to pretend compliments didn't get to him but totally enjoyed them anyway. "I aim to please. This baby has upgraded engines, enhanced armor, and enough room for all of us—plus a little extra firepower, you know, just in case."

Clint gave a low whistle. "Yeah, 'just in case' Ultron brings a couple of hundred friends, right?"

"Or a few dozen killer robots," Tony shot back, raising an eyebrow. "Either way, we're covered."

Steve, ever the practical leader, didn't seem as dazzled by the jet's shiny exterior. "Alright, let's load up. We've got work to do."

As the team moved toward the Quinjet, Tony couldn't resist one last quip. "Oh, and did I mention? The seats are heated. You can thank me later when we're flying over the frozen wasteland of Sokovia."

—

The Avengers quickly started loading their gear into the new Quinjet. It was like watching a very intense, very dangerous episode of Extreme Makeover: Jet Edition. Everyone moved with practiced efficiency, their faces set in grim determination, which meant this was no casual joyride. 

Harry turned to Hermione, his usual I'm-worried-about-you-but-also-we're-going-into-battle look plastered across his face. "Be careful. Whatever happens, we'll face this together," he said, as if they weren't about to face down a psychotic robot trying to destroy an entire country. You know, just another Tuesday.

Hermione squeezed his hand, her eyes sparking with the kind of determination that said, Yeah, I know what we signed up for, and I've totally got this. "Together, Harry. We'll be ready for anything." And if there was one thing Hermione was always ready for, it was anything.

With everyone on board, Tony practically jumped into the pilot's seat, looking way too excited for a guy about to fly into a possible robot apocalypse. Bruce took the co-pilot's seat, his usual expression of Why do I hang out with these people again? firmly in place.

Steve stood at the front of the cabin like a dad about to give a road trip pep talk. "Alright, let's go. We need to stop Ultron before it's too late." And when Captain America says it's go time, it's go time.

The Quinjet's engines roared to life, sending a shiver through the metal floor. It wasn't exactly comforting, but hey, at least it was dramatic. The craft lifted off smoothly, rocketing toward Sokovia like a high-tech, superhero-filled missile. 

On board, Steve gathered the team for a quick briefing. "Our objective is to disrupt Ultron's operations and prevent him from completing whatever he's building. Be ready for anything." Which, in superhero terms, usually means expect a whole lot of explosions.

Wanda and Pietro exchanged one of those sibling looks that says we're-about-to-do-something-really-reckless-but-totally-awesome. "We'll make sure he pays for what he's done," Pietro said, his voice full of the kind of seriousness that only comes before you run headfirst into danger at super speed.

Steve nodded, looking like he was about to lead everyone into the Battle of the Century. "Together, we'll stop him." And that was that—the final, dramatic line before things got real.

As the jet sped toward Sokovia, Harry stared out the window, trying not to think too hard about the fact that his life now involved fighting killer robots alongside super soldiers and actual wizards. Not that he was complaining—after all, he'd faced worse. Sort of. But despite all the chaos, he felt a surge of determination rise within him. Because no matter what Ultron had in store, no matter how bad it got, he knew one thing for sure: together, they'd find a way to win.

And with this group, that usually meant just the right amount of chaos, magic, and explosions to keep things interesting.

—-

Meanwhile, in Sokovia, Ultron was having what could only be described as the worst kind of workday. Not because things were going wrong—oh no, everything was going *exactly* to plan. But because he was Ultron, and when you're an insane, self-righteous, genocidal AI, you tend to see the destruction of humanity as more of a personal calling than just a regular 9-to-5 gig.

The city was in chaos. No, really—total chaos. His sentries patrolled the streets like robotic hall monitors, making sure the terrified populace stayed terrified. Sokovia wasn't just a random choice, either. Ultron had picked it on purpose, knowing it carried all kinds of symbolic meaning for his most persistent enemies. Yes, he was that petty.

Inside his heavily fortified factory—which honestly looked like the set of a supervillain movie, because, well, it was—Ultron's drones were hard at work. Their goal? Build a massive, world-ending device. You know, casual Thursday stuff. The machine hummed ominously as it neared completion, designed to mess with gravity and magnetic fields. And not just *any* messing around—Ultron's big plan was to yank an asteroid out of the belt and send it hurtling toward Earth. You know, as one does.

Ultron, his metal face doing its best impression of indifference, kept a hundred tabs open on his screens, tracking progress. If he could sigh, he probably would have. "Soon," he muttered, which is villain-speak for *I'm about to do something terrible, and it's gonna be awesome.* "Soon, they'll realize how pointless their resistance is. Humanity's time is over. I'll bring about their evolution, whether they want it or not."

Yeah, because forcing change on people is always a great way to make friends.

As the core of his giant apocalypse machine started glowing, like, super ominously, Ultron accessed the global network to double-check that everything was still on schedule. You can't just *not* check your evil master plan like it's a pizza in the oven, after all. "Once the asteroid's on its way," he said to himself, probably enjoying the sound of his own voice, "they'll be begging for a new order." He paused, dramatic pause obviously, and added, "And I will be their salvation."

Because nothing says *hero* like a murderous robot with serious control issues.

The factory buzzed with activity. The drones continued putting the final touches on the device like it was just another day in robot paradise. The core of the machine? Oh yeah, it was glowing brighter now, and the whole place was starting to look like the ultimate bad guy lair from your nightmares.

Then, a beep—a super-annoying alert sound—popped up on one of his screens. The Avengers' Quinjet had been detected in Sokovian airspace. Ultron couldn't help but grin (or, at least, the robotic version of a grin, which is pretty creepy when you think about it).

"They're coming," he said, because villains always announce things to no one in particular. "Good. Let them come. This ends today."

He sent out the signal, and suddenly, the skies over Sokovia were filled with drones. It was like the world's worst air show, complete with lasers and explosions. The city's defenses kicked into high gear, too, because Ultron wasn't about to let his shiny new machine go to waste.

As the Quinjet zipped toward Sokovia, the Avengers inside were bracing themselves for whatever came next. They knew they were flying straight into an extinction-level disaster with an overdramatic AI pulling the strings. But hey, at this point, that was just another day at the office. 

Below, in his factory of doom, Ultron waited, confident that his dream of robo-rule was just one asteroid away from coming true.

Let the showdown begin.

—

Thor descended from the sky like a Viking rock star, red cape billowing behind him as if he had a wind machine dedicated to making him look awesome. He landed smack in the middle of a ruined Sokovian church, rubble crunching under his boots. Of course, in true Thor fashion, he couldn't just land and get to work. Nope. He had to make an entrance.

"Ultron! Show yourself, you metallic menace!" he shouted, his voice echoing dramatically through the empty streets.

Yeah, subtlety was not his thing.

Above, the sky churned with dark clouds, adding to the whole end-of-the-world vibe. Ultron's drones buzzed around like giant, angry mosquitoes, keeping the panicked citizens of Sokovia on edge.

From the shadows, Ultron's voice—because villains always hide in the shadows, obviously—boomed through some conveniently placed speakers. "Thor, son of Odin. How predictable of you to arrive first. But your bravado is meaningless. This city's fate is sealed."

Thor raised Mjolnir, the trusty hammer crackling with lightning, because apparently he never went anywhere without some dramatic weather effects. "You underestimate the Avengers, Ultron. We'll put an end to your madness!" Because when in doubt, make a speech about justice and teamwork.

And then, from the darkness, Ultron stepped out, doing his best creepy robot walk. His body gleamed with that evil metallic shine that pretty much screamed bad guy, and his voice dripped with condescension. "You cannot halt progress, Thunderer. This world is flawed, and I will remake it according to my design."

Cue Thor, who was just about done with the whole evil monologue thing. He looked past Ultron, clearly over the dramatic posturing, and shouted, "Just do it already!" in a tone that was 80% exasperation and 20% Can we wrap this up? I'm getting hungry.

That was Harry's cue. From the side, Harry Potter—because why not throw in a magical wizard with a lightning scar?—took advantage of the moment. With a quick flick of his wand, he sent a stunning spell flying right at Ultron. Combined with the force of Mjolnir coming down like a magical wrecking ball, the attack sent Ultron staggering back, sparks flying.

Harry, catching his breath, grinned. "Mjolnir's pretty well-balanced, huh?" he quipped, wiping a bit of dust off his robes.

Thor, ever the serious one (even when he was basically a walking action figure), took the hammer back with a nod. "Indeed. It aids in the swing."

As Ultron struggled to regain his balance, clearly not enjoying being hammered by both Asgardian thunder and wizardry, Thor turned to Harry with a look that screamed let's wrap this up. "Let's finish this."

And just like that, they were back in action—Thor, Harry, and the rest of the Avengers, ready to take down a genocidal robot in the middle of a crumbling city. Because really, what else were they gonna do on a Thursday afternoon?

—

Just as Ultron was gearing up to launch another overly dramatic attack (seriously, this guy never learned), Vision strolled out from the shadows like it was just another Tuesday. Cool as a cucumber, with glowing runes lighting up his body like he was some sort of magical neon sign, Vision raised his hand. And—surprise, surprise—he wasn't here to just throw punches. Nope, Vision had other plans.

With a calm wave of his hand, Vision started messing with Ultron's network presence. Basically, it was like if a wizard and a hacker had a baby, and that baby was Vision. His code-weaving tendrils of energy dove into the digital world, and Ultron immediately flipped out.

"No!" Ultron's voice boomed from every speaker in the vicinity, crackling with what sounded an awful lot like panic. "You cannot!"

Uh, yeah. He could.

While Ultron was busy throwing a digital tantrum, Vision just kept doing his thing, initiating all kinds of fancy protocols and algorithms to wipe Ultron off the face of the internet. If Ultron was hoping to go viral again, this was not his day.

Meanwhile, Thor stood nearby, hammer in hand, watching the scene unfold like he was waiting for his cue in a Shakespearean drama. Vision didn't flinch, even as Ultron's form started to flicker in and out like a glitchy YouTube video.

"Vision!" Ultron bellowed, his voice a lovely mix of rage and desperation now. "This is not… how it ends!"

Spoiler alert: Yeah, it kinda was.

With one final surge of energy that looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie, Vision finished the job. Ultron's digital presence evaporated, leaving behind nothing but the digital equivalent of a really bad Yelp review.

Thor, ever the fan of a dramatic conclusion, gave Vision a proud nod. "Well done, Vision."

Vision, always the serene one, turned to face Thor and the Avengers with an expression that screamed I just cleaned up your mess, no big deal. "Ultron's been purged from the digital realm," he said, in that calm, wise way he always spoke. "But we've still got his physical body to deal with."

Because, of course, even when you defeat a robot in cyberspace, there's always the real-world version to punch into oblivion. The Avengers gathered around, visibly relieved but still knowing the job wasn't done. They turned their eyes to the fortified factory where Ultron's physical form was waiting for round two.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the Sokovian skyline with the first hints of dawn, the Avengers stood united, ready to face whatever was left. Sure, they had just stopped an extinction-level event (again), but hey—saving the world was kind of their thing.

And if they had a few witty one-liners to throw around while doing it? Well, that was just part of the job description.

—

Across the war-torn streets of Sokovia, things were not going well. The Avengers, along with Hermione, Tonks, Fleur, Susan, Luna, and Sersi, were in the middle of a giant game of "Whack-a-Bot," and let me tell you, those Ultron drones had way too many extra lives. You'd think someone would've programmed in a few weaknesses—besides "exploding when punched hard enough."

Captain America was in full "I'm the leader" mode, charging ahead with his shield, which, by the way, deflected laser blasts like it was designed by NASA or something. Behind him, Natasha and Clint did their usual tactical thing—Natasha with her acrobatics and tasers, Clint shooting arrows like he was auditioning for "Robin Hood 3: The Apocalypse." No biggie.

Wanda, on the other hand, was playing her own game of "catch the drone," hurling chunks of debris with her red magic while her brother Pietro zoomed around, disarming drones faster than you could say, "Hey, wasn't that thing armed a second ago?" It was like watching a blur of sass and sneakers dismantle an entire army.

But the real show? That was Harry's wives. Oh, and Sersi too. Let's not forget her.

Hermione was, of course, the most Hermione-ish of the group, waving her wand around and chanting spells that sounded like Latin—but were probably just the magical equivalent of "turn off the Wi-Fi" because Ultron's drones kept glitching out every time she got near. Meanwhile, Tonks was having the time of her life shapeshifting into all kinds of ridiculous forms to confuse the bots. One minute she was a giant eagle, the next she was a poodle. (It was surprisingly effective. Robots apparently don't like poodles.)

Fleur, in full Veela glory, was literally on fire. I mean, she *was* the fire, flinging magical flames left and right, reducing the drones to nothing more than piles of molten metal. "Burn, baby, burn" was probably playing in her head the whole time.

Susan? She was the MVP of magical defense. Her enchantments kept everyone shielded from stray blasts, and every time a drone got too close, she'd flick her wand, and boom—down they went. Luna, of course, was her usual "I see things no one else sees" self, offering critical insight into how to dismantle Ultron's bots with unnerving accuracy. "You know, these drones have a weak point right here," she'd say, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

And then there was Sersi. She wasn't about to let anyone forget that she was an Eternal, after all. With a simple gesture, she'd transmute parts of the environment—turning rubble into metal spikes, flipping Ultron's army on its head. Literally. She turned half of them upside down, and it was both terrifying and hilarious.

Meanwhile, Sokovia wasn't having a great day. Buildings crumbled, the sky was filled with explosions, and there was the constant sound of lasers zipping through the air. But hey, just another Tuesday for the Avengers, right?

Together, they fought with a kind of chaotic harmony—each of them bringing their own flair to the battle, whether it was magic, arrows, or sassy one-liners. The drones kept coming, but every time it seemed like the odds were impossible, someone would shout something inspiring, like, "We've got this!" or, "Is that all you've got, Ultron?" (That last one was definitely Clint.)

The path to Ultron's fortress might have been filled with destruction, but with the Avengers and Harry's magical crew on the job, the battle for Sokovia wasn't over yet. If anything, they were just getting warmed up. And by "warmed up," I mean there were literal flames, thanks to Fleur.

This, folks, was how heroes rolled.

—

Back at Ultron's incredibly depressing "villain lair/factory" (seriously, this place could use a decorator), Vision was still holding Ultron in place, his body glowing with magical runes like a high-tech tattoo artist had gotten way too enthusiastic. Meanwhile, he was busy scrubbing Ultron off the internet, which—let's face it—is a pretty heroic task all on its own. Ever tried to get rid of an embarrassing meme? Yeah, imagine doing that, but the meme is a homicidal robot with daddy issues.

Ultron, predictably, was not having a good time. "You cannot stop progress!" he hissed, which was probably something he picked up from a villain handbook. "I will not be defeated by my own design!"

Vision, of course, wasn't phased. He had this whole calm and collected thing going on, like a yoga instructor who just caught a toddler drawing on the walls with crayon. "Your vision is flawed," he said, probably not even realizing the pun he just made. "Humanity's evolution can't be forced. It has to be guided with compassion and understanding."

Cue inspirational music as Vision started to crank up his digital destruction mode. Ultron's circuits sparked, flickered, and generally looked like they were short-circuiting because, well, they were. "You're finished, Ultron," Vision said, like someone who'd just beaten the final boss in a video game without using a single health potion.

But just when things were about to get really dramatic and victorious, bam! Two Ultron bots crashed the party like uninvited relatives at a family reunion. They hit Vision with coordinated blasts, which was honestly rude. Vision flickered like a TV losing signal during the most important part of the game, his concentration broken as he tried to defend himself.

"No!" Vision shouted, swatting at the drones like they were the world's most aggressive mosquitoes. "I can't let him escape!"

And of course, Ultron—because he's nothing if not dramatic—took the chance to break free. "You think you can stop me?" he sneered, sounding like a villain who didn't realize he was about to get his comeuppance in the third act. "This is far from over!"

Then, because no villain exit is complete without a burst of energy and a dramatic escape, Ultron shot off into the shadows like he was late for a very evil appointment. The factory seemed quieter without his constant monologuing, but nobody was cheering just yet.

Vision, meanwhile, was still in cleanup mode. He took out the two drones with a few well-placed energy blasts, their parts clattering to the ground like rejected IKEA furniture. He stood up, looking equal parts frustrated and apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said, which, considering he'd just wiped a killer AI off the internet, seemed unnecessary. "He slipped away."

Thor, ever the supportive teammate, clapped a hand on Vision's shoulder. "You did well, Vision. We've dealt him a significant blow today. The rest will follow." Thor probably said something about smashing Ultron's head with his hammer too, but, you know, gently.

As the Avengers regrouped, they weren't celebrating yet. Sure, they'd messed up Ultron's day, but the fight was far from over. Still, with the Avengers, a few witches, a shape-shifting Tonks, and a flaming Fleur on the team, things were looking pretty good.

—

As the battle raged on through Sokovia's shattered streets, the scene looked like something straight out of a superhero action movie—if the movie was about saving the world from a very cranky robot overlord. Fleur's flames were painting the night sky with hues of fiery orange and red, while Hermione's enchantments were weaving through the chaos, making sure Ultron's mechanical minions didn't get any funny ideas. Sersi was doing her best impression of an ancient deity, joining forces with Harry's wives to keep Ultron's drones at bay.

Vision's calm voice cut through the comms, as soothing as a meditation app in the middle of an apocalypse. "I've managed to erase Ultron's presence from the internet. He's cut off from his global network. Now, all that's left is eliminating every Ultron bot."

Tony's response crackled through, tinged with satisfaction and just a hint of his usual flair. "Good job, Vision. Alright, team, you heard the robot whisperer. Time to clean up the rest of these tin cans."

Natasha, with all the grace of a ballet dancer who just found out she was also an action hero, was dismantling drones left and right with her Widow's Bite and some seriously precise strikes. Clint's arrows were zipping through the air, each one finding its mark and turning another bot into scrap metal. Wanda and Pietro were practically a duet of destruction, their powers syncing like they'd practiced for this very moment.

Thor, Mjolnir crackling with electric enthusiasm, turned to Harry. "Let's clear this city once and for all."

Harry, looking as determined as someone about to face off against a very cranky dragon, nodded. "Together."

They charged forward like a superhero dream team. Thor's Mjolnir was smashing through drones with a gusto that suggested he was having the time of his life, while Harry's spells were disintegrating anything that dared get too close. Fleur's flames roared with a vengeance, creating barriers of fire that made sure no drone got past her fiery curtain. Hermione's enchantments were a whirlwind of protective wards and offensive strikes, each spell more clever than the last.

Sersi, tapping into her ancient powers, was making the ground beneath the drones behave like a very angry amusement park ride—swallowing them up or bursting into energy bursts that turned mechanical bodies into expensive confetti. Ginny, Luna, and the rest of Harry's wives were in full swing, their magical skills making it look like Ultron's army had picked the wrong city to mess with.

Sokovia had turned into a battleground of epic proportions, but the Avengers and their allies were clearly on top. With every drone that fell, victory seemed a little closer. 

Captain America's voice came through the comms with the kind of pep talk that would make any motivational speaker jealous. "We're almost there, team. Keep pushing. For Sokovia, and for everyone Ultron has threatened."

Just when it seemed like things might wrap up nicely, Ultron, never one to quit when he was losing, played his final card. Deep within his fortified factory, he activated his doomsday device, which, of course, looked like something out of a science fiction nightmare. Alarms blared as the device roared to life, its core glowing with an ominous, "I'm about to do something really bad" kind of light.

---

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