High above Fifth Avenue, Cobalts White and Purple fought the Fury with every martial art skill they had.
It was a violent, fast and furious fight.
White unleashed a burst of spinning high kicks—while flying—at the same time as Purple shot down from above and unloaded a series of super-powerful punches at weak spots in the Fury’s armour.
Bigger and more cumbersome than the twins, the Fury recoiled at their rapid-fire blows and practised coordination.
As the superfast rolling fight moved along the length of Fifth Avenue to the airspace in front of the New York Public Library, White even managed to dent the Fury’s facemask and he sprang back in surprise.
The twins kept at it, harrying him, hitting him, moving with speed and cooperation, and just when it seemed that the two of them might overwhelm the Russian superhuman, Cobalt White rushed down at him from above with her right leg poised. But he pivoted and she went by him and he reached out with one of his giant fists and snatched hold of her by the leg and the throat and—in a single, shocking instant—broke her neck like a twig and threw her like a rag doll toward the ground two hundred feet below.
Winnie smashed through one of the huge lion statues in front of the library, blasting it into pebbles.
She came to rest in front of the grand old building, lying face-down on its steps, her neck broken, unable to move and groaning in agony.
Seeing his sister fall, Purple redoubled his efforts, hurling blows at the Fury in the air.
But now the Fury’s twofold advantages in strength and power began to show.
As their fight moved toward the Empire State Building further down Fifth, he just absorbed Purple’s kicks and punches, barely even reacting, before abruptly he managed to get hold of Purple and hit him square in the face.
Purple’s nose broke.
Blood sprayed.
His head was thrown back and his eyes rolled, so stunned was he by the power of the blow.
It was then that, gripping the limp body of Cobalt Purple, the Fury of Russia flew down the face of the Empire State Building at speed, grinding Purple’s body against its windows, causing them to shatter in a long wave-like sequence of showering glass.
It finished with the Fury slamming Cobalt Purple into Fifth Avenue with such force that he created a crater in the middle of the street and sent hundreds of tiny missiles of rock fanning out in every direction.
But the colossal impact didn’t kill Purple. He lay on the street, moaning, dazed.
So the Fury clenched one of his fists and punched him so hard in the face that the blow penetrated Purple’s skull completely, breaking it open like a burst tomato.
That killed him.
A groaning sound made the Fury spin.
As he turned he yanked his bloody fist out of the remnants of Purple’s head and saw Purple’s twin sister, Cobalt White, still on the steps of the public library, gamely trying to move her arms, but because of her broken neck, completely unable to.
The Fury grabbed a nearby traffic light pole, snapped it in half and carried it over to Cobalt White.
He stabbed her through the back with it.
Cobalt White shuddered horribly before she went still, dead.
The Fury of Russia stood over the bodies of New York’s superheroes and looked up at the city around him.
‘I can smell your fear, America! I drink it in! I love it!’
Then he let out a primal roar of triumph.