Defences

Saint felt like he was losing his grip on reality.

Another loud series of bangs filled the air, as his bracelet's energy released yet another powerful blast. Each fist he threw crackled with an intense force, but every single punch still hit the shield. Again and again, his attacks landed with explosive strength—only to be stopped cold by Captain America's shield. After what felt like dozens of hits, Saint's rhythm started to slip. He knew he couldn't afford this. If he slowed down, his opponent would take advantage and go on the attack. But there was nothing he could do; his hands just hurt too much.

Ever since he'd received these strange bracelets from the gods, they had given him strength beyond anything he'd ever known. With them, he could break through almost anything. But now, after punching that unbreakable shield over and over, his hands felt like they were going to shatter. The pain throbbed through his fingers and wrists, and it didn't take long before the ache reached up to his shoulders.

His strength was fading fast. His body had grown tired from pushing so hard, and he knew his attacks were slowing down. Then, Captain America's shield shifted slightly, and Saint caught a glimpse of the hero's eyes peeking out from behind it.

"Feeling worn out?" Captain America taunted, eyes sharp. Without any hesitation, he took the chance to go from defense to offense. In one quick motion, he swung the shield down at Saint like a heavy blade.

Saint's thoughts were racing. Here it comes again. Every time I slow down, he's all over me! he thought, trying to dodge. He ducked low, hoping to slip under the shield's edge, but before he could even move, Captain America's huge, clenched fist was already waiting for him.

Saint reacted on instinct, the energy in his bracelets flaring up, making his fists surge with power. He was ready to hit back with all his strength, but he hadn't expected Captain America to pull a trick. Instead of a real punch, Captain America faked him out, forcing him to lunge forward with a punch, only to bring up his shield at the last second.

Saint cursed under his breath as he saw his mistake. The shield rose up to block his punch, and he couldn't stop himself in time. Bang! His fist slammed right into the shield's surface, which absorbed the blow and sent the energy rebounding back at him. He felt a dizzying shock roll up his arm, almost like a thunderous echo inside his bones. 

The impact felt like an explosion in his head. His vision darkened as a ringing sound filled his ears, almost like a swarm of angry bees. All he could do was stumble back, trying to put some space between himself and Captain America. He needed to recover—even just for a few seconds.

But Captain America's controller, Charlie, was one step ahead. With a quick command, he directed Captain America to launch his shield like a flying disc. The shield spun through the air, cutting straight toward Saint with unbelievable speed. Saint barely had time to see it before thunk!—the shield struck him square in the chest, sending him flying backward.

As the shield rebounded back to Captain America, he leaped forward in a spin, catching the shield with a practiced grace. In a blur, he launched a spinning kick, sending the shield smashing into Saint's forehead.

Blood trickled down Saint's face as Captain America followed up with yet another powerful strike, bringing the shield down on Saint's head one more time. The shield's special ability absorbed the energy from the blows, storing it and then using it to power Captain America's next attacks even more.

After these repeated hits, Saint's head felt like it was splitting open, and he couldn't even see straight. He staggered back, hoping to regain his balance. As he fell back, he noticed his allies—a few remaining soldiers—being taken down by Black Widow and Hawkeye. They were distracted by his fall, which gave the duo the perfect chance to strike.

Then Captain America looked up, eyes narrowing. Standing on a high ledge in the shadows was another figure. This person had been watching the entire time, hidden away in the darkness. Saint had heard him called the "God Lord." This was their true enemy.

The figure's eyes were dark green, glowing with a dangerous intensity, as he slowly stood up. As he did, Captain America readied his shield, preparing to defend. Charlie, Captain America's controller, kept his hand on the defense button, watching closely. He wasn't sure what this new enemy could do, but he had a feeling it would be serious.

Suddenly, Captain America's shield was yanked out of his control. A powerful, invisible force pulled him toward the shadowed figure. Charlie gasped, hitting the defense button frantically as Captain America flew forward, shield-first.

"What's this… some kind of magic?" Charlie thought, surprised. 

Captain America raised his shield just in time as a massive fist came down, colliding with the shield and sending out a blast of energy. The impact launched Captain America back, and he hit the ground hard, his shield clattering as he struggled to stand. But as he looked up, the shadowed figure was already closing in, striding forward with a look of complete control.

The figure was tall, with a body almost like a human's but strangely out of proportion. His glowing green eyes were cold and empty, fixed on Captain America as he approached.

Captain America rolled out of the way, trying to get up, but again that strange force grabbed him, dragging him toward the figure. Captain America raised his shield to block another attack, but the figure's punch sent him hurtling backward once again.

On the screen, Captain America stumbled, struggling to keep his footing as he tried to defend himself. Charlie clenched his fists, watching closely.

"It seems Captain Rogers might not be enough for this fight," Friday's calm, electronic voice remarked.

"Yeah, it looks like we'll need a bit more firepower," Charlie muttered.

As the figure advanced, Captain America braced himself, watching every move. The shadowed figure raised one hand slowly, preparing for another attack, but he moved with an almost lazy confidence. Then, from behind, a streak of light shot through the air, heading straight for him.

But the figure didn't even flinch. He held up one hand as if to casually catch the incoming attack, like it was no threat at all.

But the projectile hit him with a loud boom!, knocking him off balance and sending him rolling backward, all his cool, confident stance lost in a single blow.

It was a hammer—a high-speed, high-powered hammer, thrown with such force that it broke through his defenses.

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Read entire fic at P@treon.com/Onesword