After countless battles on the battlefield and witnessing the magnificent landscapes of countless planets across the cosmos, returning to Earth once more makes one appreciate how peaceful and serene this cradle of life truly is.
Yes, even though Earth is constantly embroiled in conflicts between superheroes and supervillains—battles of capture and escape, cycles of revenge and counter-revenge—compared to the vast, cold emptiness of space, this planet, protected by so many powerful beings, is truly a place worth longing for.
For centuries, this world was safeguarded by the Supreme Sorcerer. And now, people are beginning to recognize another formidable figure—Duncan, the leader of a powerful faction, commanding a group of fearsome warriors stationed on this planet.
Sometimes, people wonder: What will Earth's future look like? With an individual as powerful as Duncan, who also controls the Xenomorphs—a species with terrifying potential and a uniquely ruthless expansion method—what fate awaits the planet? Will every living person, sooner or later, end up becoming a Xenomorph?
Perhaps. But if that time ever comes, it will likely be many years from now. That's a concern for those who stand at the pinnacle of power and strength, those who have already sensed the massive upheavals brewing in the universe and have begun to uncover the truth about what's happening on Yggdrasil.
This time, Duncan didn't just repel a demon god—he outright killed a Sky Father.
A Sky Father, one who had left his mark in the annals of human history.
Yet, despite receiving such shocking news, most of those privy to this information had no real concept of what a Sky Father-level being was capable of or what kind of power they wielded. They couldn't even fathom the idea of someone destroying a planet with a single punch.
After all, from the dawn of human civilization to the present, no one has ever demonstrated such a feat. If someone had shattered the Earth—or any other planet in the solar system—with a single strike, humanity's existence would be an entirely different story.
But Nick Fury understood.
"Laufey is dead? The strongest Frost Giant is actually dead? Are you sure this information is reliable?"
Fury could hardly believe his ears. He instinctively looked up at the sky outside his window, half-wondering if his mind had been compromised—if he was hearing things. Otherwise, how could something so absurd and unbelievable be real?
Hill, ever loyal, reported, "I believe it's true, sir. The source of this information is S.W.O.R.D., and we all know they have connections with the gods of the Grand Celestial Realm."
S.W.O.R.D...
Fury turned his head away at the mere mention of the name. He didn't like dealing with those people—especially after his failed attempt to establish contact with Asgard.
If only Thor hadn't been captured and recruited by Duncan in New Mexico... Fury had originally hoped that bringing Thor into the Avengers would have been a historic game-changer.
"The Bifröst has been appearing frequently near the Weyland Building. Each time, new Xenomorphs emerge from the portal. Based on our analysis, those creatures likely originated from Jotunheim and have parasitized various Frost Giant clans." Hill continued.
Hearing Duncan's name alone was enough to give Fury a headache.
He had watched Duncan rise from a complete nobody, bringing with him the Xenomorphs—initially dismissed as mere biological experiment results—and, within just a year, expand like a snowball rolling downhill, growing exponentially into the force he commands today.
Now, even the mighty Frost Giants had been defeated by Duncan's army, and a Sky Father had fallen. It was simply beyond comprehension.
"A Sky Father… A being of that level might even surpass Carol in strength…"
Fury made up his mind. It was time to activate some of the more dangerous assets he had been reluctant to use. Reality was making it painfully clear that if he didn't act soon, it might be too late.
"Hill, expedite the Mother Mold Project. The new platform must be built and deployed into solar orbit as soon as possible. We need to mass-produce the war machines we've envisioned. If Duncan, that megalomaniac, ever decides to make a move, I want to ensure we have enough firepower to take on the Xenomorphs in battle."
Fury swiftly issued his orders. "But we can't put all our hopes on just one project. I'll personally oversee the revival of another sealed initiative. It's time to wake up the symbiotes that have been in stasis since the 1970s."
Hill's expression changed. "The symbiotes? But those things come with extreme risks—"
"I know, but we don't have a choice. Expecting to achieve everything without taking risks is a fantasy. Even someone like Duncan has taken aggressive, high-stakes actions, constantly negotiating with dangerous entities and seizing opportunities in the narrowest of margins to fuel his rapid rise.
And what have we been doing? Resting on our past glories? That's unacceptable."
Fury's thoughts drifted to that bizarre black dragon. He still wasn't sure how or why it had fallen from space and become encased in ice, motionless ever since. But the black organic material covering its body remained active. Samples extracted from it had shown remarkable properties—able to rapidly form a parasitic, worm-like lifeform that hovered between the line of living and non-living. If harnessed correctly, it could significantly enhance human soldiers' combat effectiveness.
Unfortunately, there was one major issue: these symbiotes carried an inherent ability to corrupt minds. It wouldn't take long for a perfectly sane individual to descend into madness.
In the 1970s, Fury personally used a symbiote and understood what it was like to be parasitized. He knew that the symbiote's inherent evil would gradually erode his mind.
But now, he had no time to worry about such things. One thing was clear to Fury: if he didn't take drastic measures to create powerful soldiers, how would he stand against Duncan's alien army? How could he resist Duncan's rapidly expanding forces?
And it wasn't just Duncan—there were also the mutants.
The mutants had already declared the establishment of their nation on Krakoa.
"We need more capable allies, boss. The Damned Bullets who joined Kamar-Taj haven't sent back any updates for a long time," Hill reminded him.
At the mention of this, Fury had no patience left. He had no idea what had happened to the Damned Bullets. Those hundreds of warriors had disappeared overnight after Ancient One and Duncan joined forces to repel Dormammu.
"Damn it. The Damned Bullets devoured countless funds to mass-produce clones, and after finally cultivating a few hundred qualified soldiers to join Kamar-Taj, they just vanished without a trace? I refuse to believe that Ancient One simply swallowed them up!"
"Oh? This is happening faster than I expected. It seems that Professor X and Magneto are making good progress. They may have already recruited some impressive talents."
Having just returned to Earth, Duncan received the news with no sign of surprise.
The establishment of the mutant nation on Krakoa meant that Earth's political landscape had become even more delicate. The conflict between humans and mutants was now openly laid on the table.
Krakoa was a living island and also a mutant itself. In the end, those two had made the wisest decision—founding the mutant kingdom on Krakoa. It was a safe and brilliant idea.
"I've heard that mutants are continuously crossing the ocean to join them. But I don't think that's enough. We should also take action and recruit mutants. If we properly nurture them and integrate them with the Xenomorphs inside them, they could become valuable mid-tier forces for us."
Druig, who had returned to Earth with Skurge, advised Duncan, "I have watched these mutants struggle for years without any real progress, always resorting to war in the end. Since that's the case, why not absorb them into our ranks entirely? That way, we can eliminate the problem at its root."
Druig had little regard for mutants. In fact, strictly speaking, he looked down on everyone except Xenomorphs.
If every mutant became a Xenomorph, there would be no more disputes related to mutants.
"Mutants? You mean those Midgardians with superpowers? That's nothing impressive. They're weak. They can't even withstand my bullets. There's no need to waste time on them."
It was Skurge's first time meeting Duncan, and he was eager to prove himself. He spoke in his rough, booming voice, pushing his strongest skill—killing.
"Why not just attack the mutants directly? Those who survive the war will prove themselves worthy of joining us."
But Duncan shook his head. "This isn't about whether we can defeat the mutants. It's about whether we should. Starting a new war would drag on endlessly, forcing us to waste enormous effort. Instead, we should focus our resources on something more valuable from the very beginning."
He then turned to Druig and added, "By the way, you've trained Skurge well. The fact that he can say something like this at least proves he has fully adapted to his new identity."
"If you're willing to give me a mission, I'll adapt even faster. I'll prove my worth through action. Don't underestimate me—I may be small, but my body holds immense power."
Skurge stood tall, his exaggerated muscles bulging. Even at over two meters in height, among the Xenomorphs, he was still considered small.
"Very well. I have a target for you: The Hand. Take thirty Xenomorphs as your guards and eliminate those troublesome ninjas. Bring me the heads of their so-called 'Five Fingers.'"
Duncan casually assigned the task.
This globally notorious assassin organization had been an ongoing nuisance. From sending Elektra to their constant attempts to infiltrate Weyland Tower or sabotage the Xenomorphs, they had been relentless.
Everyone knew the immense value of Xenomorphs. On the black market, a complete Xenomorph corpse was already worth tens of millions of dollars.
Skurge left excitedly. He had no idea what The Hand was, but that didn't matter. No matter who the enemy was, he would slaughter them all with his guns.
Eager to prove his loyalty and skill, Skurge was impatient. He had yet to truly establish a fearsome reputation. His rise to power had only just begun when he fell in war, and the entire world collapsed.
No one understood Skurge's burning desire for glory better than Druig.
"This guy is incredibly strong and has a bloodthirsty side. He will be a sharp blade in our hands," Druig remarked, clearly impressed by Skurge.
"His future is no less than that of Thor," Duncan commented, surprising Druig.
Moiré listened to their conversation, understanding little of it.
Thor—she knew him, of course. And she also knew that, in the normal course of history, he would eventually stand with humanity. Whenever the mutant kingdom tried to take action, the Avengers and other hero teams would always step in to stop them.
But in this timeline, Thor never joined the Avengers. From the moment he arrived on Earth, Duncan had led him down a different path. That fact alone left Moiré in shock and confusion.
And now, Duncan had even killed Laufey? Worse, he had used Laufey's body as an incubator to birth an unspeakably terrifying Xenomorph?
The more she learned, the more lost she felt. It all came back to Duncan. He was the reason for all these deviations from what she had once believed to be fate.
"Moira, let me remind you once again—control your thoughts. Wasting too many brain cells on meaningless things is not a wise choice. It will only trap you in a cycle of illogical thinking, eventually driving you insane."
Duncan suddenly shifted his gaze to one of the Xenomorphs beside him.
It was a relatively beautiful Xenomorph, but aside from that, it had no remarkable traits—neither in physique nor presence. It was utterly unremarkable in every aspect.
Yet, Duncan was inexplicably fond of her. He kept her by his side when nothing was happening, and when there was, such as during the conquest of Jotunheim, he would leave Moira in a perfectly safe place, meticulously protected.
Among the Xenomorphs present, a towering and formidable Laufey-type Xenomorph stood in formation.
Duncan would never recklessly send out special individuals like the Laufey Xenomorph or Moira. If they were to be caught in the residual shockwaves of a battle and eliminated, Duncan would be devastated.
The Laufey Xenomorph was different—it only needed time to grow. Before long, it would be capable of holding its own. While it might never reach the peak of the original Laufey, it wouldn't be too far off.
At the very least, it would be comparable to a Death Maiden—an entity capable of exchanging blows with a Skyfather-tier opponent.
But the most fragile and unique of them all was undoubtedly Moira. If she were to die, who knew where she would reincarnate next?
Duncan certainly wasn't confident that, upon her next rebirth, she would still be bound to the Xenomorphs.
She was a rare existence, and Duncan had a preliminary plan for how to use her. If he were ever backed into a corner, Moira might prove to be an unexpected trump card.
Regardless of how useful she turned out to be, Duncan had a habit of incorporating anything that wasn't entirely worthless into his contingency plans. His greatest pleasure was devising countermeasures for every conceivable event, burying them deep in his mind so that when real trouble arose, he wouldn't be left in the dark, relying solely on brute force.
"I'm just confused about my future. I can't figure out what I even am anymore… The foresight and knowledge from my past two lives have become nearly useless in this one. Mutants don't need me anymore. No, I'm not even human now—I've become a Xenomorph…"
A deep sense of bewilderment appeared on Moira's face. Even though she had been a Xenomorph for some time, she still occasionally struggled with her identity.
To someone like Druid, this was utterly incomprehensible. Others would kill for the opportunity to embrace the truth, yet this reincarnated being, who had inexplicably become a Xenomorph, dared to lack sincere faith?
"You could give her to me. I'll teach her what gratitude means," Druid said to Duncan.
"No need. I believe you would succeed, but I'm also concerned that, in the process of repeatedly cleansing Moira's mind, you'd turn her into a complete idiot."
Duncan dismissed Druid. If this fanatic was so devoted, he could go deal with people who had wronged Duncan in the past instead.
"I'm different from the others. I have no special abilities, no talent for strategy or decision-making. I'm sure I'm of no use to you," Moira murmured, her voice growing quieter.
"No one is born a success, and no success is eternal. It's simply not yet your time to shine. But you can, at the very least, uncover your own potential."
"Discover my potential? But my ability is reincarnation—I don't even know how many times I can still come back. Especially this time… I was reborn as a Xenomorph. God, even the most insane novelists wouldn't come up with something this absurd. I don't know why this happened to me. Maybe my ability is malfunctioning."
Moira hesitated. "Maybe if I die again, it will be the final time."
"Or maybe not," Duncan countered. "You just need to reframe how you use your ability. For instance, you could trap your enemies in an endless time loop for a brief period. I can't think of a weapon more suited to you than that. You could truly become a formidable Xenomorph."
Moira was special, and Duncan saw immense potential in her, even though, at the moment, she was no stronger than an ordinary Xenomorph—pitifully weak.
Her ability was clearly time-related. If she trained and honed it properly, she might become something akin to a diminished version of the Time Stone—an absolute nightmare for any enemy trapped within the bounds of time.
In essence, another Death Maiden capable of stalling powerful foes, even if only temporarily.
"Time loops…" Moira murmured, her mind slowly grasping the concept. Though she now had a rough direction, she still needed time to figure out the specifics.
Duncan didn't interrupt her thoughts.
"Gloria, issue a new round of recruitment announcements. Our forces are expanding rapidly—we need more capable individuals."
Duncan summoned his assistant, a normal human who handled documentation.
Gloria Grant had once been a friend of Peter Parker's at Westside Apartments. When Peter died under murky circumstances, she was devastated. She had originally planned to join the Daily Bugle but ultimately chose to work for Weyland Corporation instead.
Dressed in a sharp business suit, Gloria entered the room, holding a file in her hands. She had long since become desensitized to the Xenomorphs surrounding Duncan.
After all, Weyland Tower saw frequent traffic from regular humans—representatives from major corporations and organizations seeking to broker deals with Duncan.
"Boss, hiring people has never been a problem. The question is—what kind of people? Superhumans? Mutants? Or perhaps scientists and engineers with specialized knowledge?"
Gloria efficiently presented a list of candidates. "Last month, the company recruited seventeen people, all specializing in management and documentation. This ensures that we're never short-staffed when dealing with other companies."
"Believe me, Gloria," Duncan said with a smirk. "Even if it were Xenomorphs handling negotiations instead of humans, those people would still force a smile and go out of their way to please us. We hold what they want. Who would gamble with their own lifespan? Who would risk their safety?"
As Gloria poured him a glass of water, Duncan gave a slight nod. "Focus on one person—Jane Foster, a young astrophysicist."
"Understood, Boss."
Gloria searched her memory but found no recollection of this name. Though she was puzzled, her professionalism prevented her from questioning her superior.
Just as she was about to leave to carry out the order, Duncan spoke again.
"I heard Peter Parker was an exceptional high school student—smart, cautious, humble. He had all the qualities of a great scientist."
A trace of sadness crossed Gloria's face. "Yes… Unfortunately, he's gone. I even attended his funeral."
"Existence isn't limited to a single form. The dead may yet return in another guise."
Duncan took a sip of water, savoring the warmth.
Gloria was intelligent. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she grasped the implication behind Duncan's words.
She had risen quickly in Weyland Corporation. Gloria was no naive fool unaware of the darker realities of the world.
"Xenomorphs? Is that even possible?" Gloria muttered to herself, her mind conjuring an unsettling image of an alien bursting from Peter Parker's lifeless corpse—one carrying his genetic traits. A shiver ran down her spine.
She knew that if it were a Druid, they would wholeheartedly embrace such a transformation, but she still found it difficult to accept.
Duncan, however, didn't care what she was thinking.
After learning from Mordo that the Heirs had killed Peter Parker, Duncan had immediately dispatched xenomorphs to Queens to search for his remains—and they had succeeded in finding them.
If Duncan wished, he could easily create a Peter-Xenomorph. But right now, there was no real need to do so.
The Spider-Man devoured by the Heirs had lost his Spider-Totem essence. Without unlocking the Molting ability, he couldn't revive himself. Even if Duncan forcibly created a xenomorph with Peter's DNA, it would serve little purpose.
At least, not until the big event unfolded.
After all, with Spider-Men across the multiverse—including a Dinosaur Spider-Man, Pig Spider-Man, Toei Spider-Man, and Mecha Spider-Man—introducing a Xenomorph Spider-Man in the future seemed perfectly reasonable.
The moment the Spider Society extended its invitation to all Spider-Men across the multiverse, that would be Duncan's cue to create his own Xenomorph Spider-Man.
Inside a parked RV, Jane Foster sat in front of her computer, fully engrossed in its screen.
"Are you still waiting for an email reply? I just don't get it—why are you so interested in Weyland, of all companies? With your talent, I wouldn't be surprised if you joined Stark Industries one day. Why are you so fixated on Weyland? If you're into biotech firms, even Oscorp would be a better choice."
Her friend, Louise, clearly couldn't understand Jane's decision.
She was baffled. Why would a brilliant, promising astrophysicist be so preoccupied with a company that specialized in biological research?
"I just feel like I missed an opportunity, Louise. Do you know that feeling?"
Jane hugged her knees, curling up in her chair, her dazed eyes fixed on the unchanged computer screen.
Louise groaned. "Are you still hung up on that? That was not an opportunity! So what if Thor landed on Earth that night? Sure, he was ridiculously close to us, almost within arm's reach—but that wasn't something we were supposed to be involved in! Did you forget what happened afterward? That desert got completely wrecked by a brutal battle! We went back there days later and saw the aftermath with our own eyes!"
Jane simply shook her head. She had replayed that moment in her mind countless times. If they had driven just a little faster or slower that night—if they had managed to cross paths with Thor—would their lives have turned out differently?
No, they definitely would have.
Jane was obsessed with unraveling the mysteries of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. The young scientist yearned to understand how different dimensions were structured, how the Nine Realms were distributed, and to map out the World Tree's intricate design.
To an astrophysicist, this was an irresistible temptation.
But unfortunately, what was lost was lost. Jane never got the chance to meet Thor. Instead, she and Louise had reacted like any ordinary civilians—sensing danger and speeding away in a frantic escape.
"This company—no, this organization—has control over xenomorphs. Not only that, but they're willing to give them to their employees. And they've also established close cooperation with Asgard, allowing them to use the Bifrost freely…"
Jane's eyes sparkled. "If I can get in, maybe I can become a xenomorph myself. A stronger body, limitless stamina, endless time—then I could explore the unknown beyond Earth however I please!"
"You're insane!"
"I'm not! This is just a logical deduction based on reasonable possibilities. See? My patience wasn't wasted. Weyland just replied to my application—I got in!!"
Jane leapt up, banging her head on the RV ceiling but barely noticing. She jumped around excitedly before hastily packing her bags and booking the earliest flight to New York.
The moment Jane stepped into Weyland, she couldn't help but envision a xenomorph sitting at the reception desk, its razor-sharp fingers tapping away at a keyboard as it processed her employment paperwork.
Of course, no such thing happened.
Xenomorphs were present in the building, but the receptionist handling her paperwork was just an ordinary human.
"Jane Foster, your clearance level is higher than standard. You need to go to the 92nd floor."
At first, the receptionist had worn a standard corporate smile. But after glancing at her records, his expression changed instantly—his face betraying both respect and fear.
Jane had no idea why. And when she reached the 92nd floor, she became even more confused.
"What's going on? They want me to be implanted already? I heard this is supposed to be a highly selective process, with limited spots. Why am I—"
Jane stared, dumbfounded, at the enormous xenomorph egg before her. A sense of dread crept over her—it was a primal fear, the kind that came from facing the unknown.
But still, she had no other path forward.
"I knew it. This was never some humanitarian organization… Looks like I have no choice."
Half-willingly, half-reluctantly, Jane accepted the implantation.
Even though this was something she had fantasized about in her dreams—gaining a power that countless others could only long for, transcending humanity—she still found herself overwhelmed by disbelief.
Yet, what happened next left her utterly speechless.
She was led by a woman into a secluded chamber. Inside, she was met with an utterly shocking sight—a hammer.
Her eyes widened in astonishment. "Wait. You expect me to lift this thing?! Don't try to fool me—I know exactly what this is. This is Thor's weapon! And I refuse to believe you'd go to the trouble of making a fake one just to mess with a new recruit like me!"
Rather than wanting to lift it, Jane was far more interested in studying it—as a scientist.
"Yes, it is Thor's weapon," Gloria replied, her expression unwavering. "But if you can lift it, then you will become Thor. From that moment on, it will be your weapon."
Her tone was filled with confidence, as though she fully believed in Jane's potential. But in truth, she was just as skeptical.
Even she was questioning—Why does this woman qualify to touch Mjolnir?
After all, even the mighty Sentry had tried to lift it just this morning—and he hadn't been able to budge it.