Mr. Rogers And ME [BL]

Chapter 8: Shadows in the City



He planned to bring out the remaining cookies for the agent, bake a fresh batch, and perhaps throw in a special cheese pastry on the house.

After all, everyone enjoys compliments—even elves.

And with Clint showing so much enthusiasm, Lirael found it hard to be anything but pleased.

But the moment he pulled aside the curtain, everything changed.

As an elf with heightened senses, Lirael immediately sensed something amiss.

At the same time, Clint, who had just been savoring the cookies, snapped to attention, his eyes turning sharp.

Both of them heard the faint commotion outside—the rising cacophony of panicked shouts and screams.

Closer still, there was an ominous rustling sound above the shattered storefront windows, like a predator lying in wait, ready to pounce on its chosen prey.

The air carried an unsettling, nauseating darkness.

"What's—"

Jimmy, holding a tray, was about to ask what was going on when Clint abruptly stood up and motioned for him to step back.

Lirael silenced Jimmy by clamping a hand over his mouth.

With a nod to Lirael, Clint smoothly drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, aiming toward the upper right corner.

The instant the shadowy figure lurking outside the bakery's wall revealed itself, Clint let the arrow fly.

It whistled through the air like a streak of lightning, striking its target squarely in the forehead.

A guttural roar tore through the air.

The creature, its head pierced by Clint's arrow, tumbled from the wall, crashing onto the shards of broken glass below.

It was vaguely humanoid, grotesque in appearance, standing barely a meter tall.

Its disproportionately long, thin limbs gave its body a warped, unnatural look.

What was most disturbing, however, was its skin—a sickly, dark green, like decaying seaweed left to rot underwater.

"What the hell are these things?!"

Clint nudged the lifeless creature with the toe of his boot, his expression grim.

Outside, the street was rapidly filling with more of the same monsters, swarming from all directions and driving terrified civilians into a frenzy.

Some creatures had already invaded nearby buildings, wreaking havoc on everything they touched.

Even Avengers Tower, several blocks away, was not spared.

Above the chaos, the roar of engines signaled the arrival of Iron Man, his red-and-gold suit bursting through the top-floor windows of the tower.

Captain America, with Falcon's assistance, descended into the densest cluster of monsters, joining Hulk in clearing the invaders.

Meanwhile, Black Widow regrouped with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who had responded to the crisis, coordinating efforts to evacuate civilians and shouting for everyone to report their positions.

Having just returned from a mission and barely catching his breath, Hawkeye now found himself thrown into another chaotic situation.

His expression was far from pleasant.

Bolting toward the door while activating his comms, he continuously reported his position and situation over the channel.

As he loosed arrows at the advancing creatures, he made sure to shout instructions to the two people inside the bakery, urging them to evacuate immediately and follow S.H.I.E.L.D.'s directives to reach safety.

Much like the time Loki led the Chitauri invasion, it seemed New York was once again destined to become the battlefield for the Avengers against an imminent threat.

"First, I get kidnapped, and now I'm witnessing a monster invasion in New York. These past two days have been just

fantastic," Jimmy muttered sarcastically.

Standing akimbo, he watched as Hawkeye disappeared around the corner of the street.

Turning back toward his companion, Jimmy expected to find the same dejection mirrored on Lirael's face.

Instead, he noticed that ever since Clint had taken down the creature, Lirael had been staring intently at the corpse on the ground.

His lips were pressed tightly together, and a rare mix of shock and confusion clouded his usually composed expression.

"...Are you okay?"

Jimmy, assuming that the elf might have been scared stiff, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, ready to offer a few kind words.

However, Lirael suddenly turned toward him, his piercing green eyes—bright as fresh leaves—glinting with a complexity that Jimmy couldn't begin to decipher.

"Do you know what those things are?"

Lirael's question broke the silence, his voice unusually serious.

When Jimmy shook his head, baffled, Lirael's lips curled into a grim smile.

"I do."

"These are goblin scouts, the vanguard of orc forces."

And they came from the same place he did.

Without waiting for Jimmy's reaction, Lirael darted out of the bakery like a gust of wind, chasing after Hawkeye toward the place where the battle was most intense.

...

"I swear, I might just be the first Avenger to die from exhaustion."

Leaping down from his vantage point, Clint took another quiver of arrows from a nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

As the monstrous creatures swarmed in from all directions, he wiped his face and couldn't resist griping over the shared comms.

"I don't even care what the hell these things are anymore—can someone tell me where they're coming from? Why can't we just cut to the chase and blow up their nest?"

[ Tony's on it. He should have something in about ten minutes. ]

With a solid thud, Steve slammed his shield into a goblin and pinning it to the wall.

He scanned the battlefield that was littered with grotesque corpses, and then pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Get to Sector B4, Clint. Thor's not here, and we need your sharpshooting backup."

"Copy that."

With Iron Man's assistance, Clint quickly reached the rooftop of a nearby building.

From his elevated position, he efficiently thinned the goblins' ranks, providing his teammates with much-needed breathing room.

Occasionally, a creature would scale the walls and attempt to ambush him, but their efforts were laughable.

Goblins, while plentiful, weren't particularly formidable.

Compared to the Chitauri invasion of New York before, this felt more like target practice than a real battle.

Or so he thought.

When heavy footfalls suddenly thudded behind him, Clint assumed it was yet another clumsy ambush.


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