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Chapter 302: Hardcore—One Man Takes on a Starship
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 16:15:33 +0000 UTC
“I never expected Alex to be this monstrous.”
“This guy… he’s a straight-up freak!”
“So what if he’s a freak? So what if he chased us here?”
“Right, I refuse to believe he can handle our starship!”
…
The bridge of the Skrull warship echoed with sharp voices.
The initial panic of seeing Alex in the vacuum of space had begun to fade, replaced with the icy arrogance of a warrior race. Their pride clawed its way back to the surface.
Yes, Alex had done the impossible and traversed space with nothing but his own body. But in the end, what was he? A single man.
And they… were aboard a fully armed Skrull battleship, forged for war against the Kree.
They refused to believe a lone primitive mutant could withstand the wrath of their firepower.
“Commander, what should we do?” Yabo asked, his jaw tight as he stared at the projection screen where Alex’s glowing figure drew ever closer.
Nakel’s expression hardened. His voice cut like a blade.
“What else? If he dares to rush to his death, why should we hesitate?”
Tuga sneered, eyes narrowing. “Weapons systems—prepare to fire!”
Nakel didn’t waste another word. His tone was sharp, ruthless. “Open fire.”
“Yes, Commander!”
The pilots’ hands flew over the crystalline controls. Along the starship’s armored hull, vast cannon arrays rotated with mechanical precision, each barrel aligning toward the crimson blur tearing through the void.
“Target locked. Shall we fire?”
“Fire!” Nakel barked.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dozens of glowing energy shells erupted from the cannons, streaking across the void like falling meteors. They lit the darkness with violent streaks of green-white light, converging in a deadly storm that completely blanketed Alex’s path.
From the bridge, Nakel, Tuga, and the others leaned forward, cruel satisfaction twisting their expressions.
Yes. That was the difference.
One man could never stand against the might of a starship.
So what if he was Alex? So what if C-53 worshipped him like some demigod? Out here, in the endless dark of space, his so-called “prestige” was meaningless.
In the next heartbeat, he would be reduced to ash.
---
“Quite rude, aren’t they?”
Alex muttered the words with a trace of amusement curling at his lips. His eyes reflected the storm of oncoming shells—dozens, hundreds of them, blazing with destructive energy.
Yet his speed never faltered.
Not once did he veer aside.
Not once did he lift a hand to shield himself.
He simply kept flying straight ahead, as if none of it mattered.
It wasn’t arrogance. It wasn’t recklessness.
Alex was curious.
He had pushed his body, evolved again and again, his very cells reforged into living weapons. And now, at Silver Alex, his durability had reached levels even he didn’t fully understand.
So this was the perfect test.
The storm reached him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The void erupted in a chain of colossal explosions, each blast brighter than a sunburst. Fire and plasma spread in waves, overlapping until Alex’s figure was swallowed entirely by a furnace of annihilation.
From the bridge of the Skrull ship, Nakel and his officers grinned with open mockery.
“What was he thinking?” Tuga jeered. “Was he too slow to dodge? Or just some backwater fool, terrified by weapons he doesn’t understand?”
“Either way,” Nakel said coldly, “he’s finished.”
Yes. That had to be it.
The great Alex Winters—C-53’s so-called strongest mutant—erased in seconds by a single volley of Skrull cannons.
The thought eased the burn of humiliation they had felt when first seeing him. The shame of panic, the sting of awe—they laughed it off now.
What a farce.
A primitive was a primitive.
“Commander, look!”
The shout tore through their smugness like a blade.
A young warrior stood frozen, his trembling finger pointed toward the main display.
The flames parted.
And from within that burning sea of destruction, a figure soared forth.
Unharmed.
Not even singed.
Alex emerged through the inferno with calm eyes, his cape trailing like a banner of war. His breathing was steady, his hair unruffled, his expression composed—as though he hadn’t just been buried under a bombardment meant to level cities.
The bridge fell silent.
“What…?”
“How… how is this possible?!”
“He’s completely unscathed!”
Every smug smile froze, every arrogant sneer shattered. Horror rippled through the Skrull ranks like a tidal wave.
Their shells had been like… air. They hadn’t even scratched him.
It was madness. Impossible. Unbelievable.
“Commander, our firepower has no effect!”
The words were redundant. Every eye had already seen the truth.
Nakel’s teeth ground together. His face twisted, but he didn’t hesitate.
“Fine. Then we escalate. Ready the railgun!”
The command dropped like a thunderclap.
Gasps spread across the bridge. Several warriors paled.
The railgun wasn’t just another weapon. It was a fleet-killer, designed to pierce the armored hulls of capital ships, capable of splitting an enemy cruiser in half with a single shot.
And now, they were pointing it at… a single man.
It was madness. It was obscene.
But given what they had just witnessed—given the sheer impossibility of Alex surviving the previous barrage—this was the only answer.
“Yes, Commander!”
The crew obeyed. The massive railgun cannon locked into position, humming with dreadful power. Energy began to gather, brighter and brighter, the glow swelling until it rivaled a star’s birth.
And then—
BOOOOM!
The railgun fired.
A beam of annihilation screamed across the void, racing toward Alex faster than thought.
This time, Alex’s eyes narrowed. He could feel the weight of it. This wasn’t like the earlier shells. This was real danger.
Even with his monstrous body, taking this head-on was a gamble.
So Alex moved.
Raising one hand, his fingers splayed wide, he summoned forth his will. Energy rippled from him in a crimson surge, condensing into a shimmering barrier of raw psychic force.
The railgun struck.
CRAAAAAASH!
The explosion lit the void like a newborn sun, a shockwave slamming into the Skrull warship hard enough to rattle its armored frame. Alarms screamed across the bridge.
For long moments, the display showed nothing but blinding light.
Nakel’s jaw tightened.
“Is he dead?”
“He should be. That was the railgun,” Tuga said quickly, clinging to reason. “No one survives that. Not even a fleet cruiser could.”
“Exactly. That weapon can tear apart starships. What chance could one man possibly—”
But the words withered on their lips.
Because the light began to clear.
And once again—
A figure emerged.
Alex.
Still standing.
