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[Marvel: Xenomorphs] Chapter 66: The Universe Where Spider-Man Got Snapped
🕑 Added 2025-03-04 15:14:34 +0000 UTCThe sky was a murky gray, making it seem like a torrential downpour could start at any moment, yet there was no certainty. It left people hesitatingâshould they bring an umbrella or not?
It was like trying to predict a womanâs moodâimpossible to tell whether it would rain or stay dry.
Hopefully, it wouldnât rain, especially not heavily, because rain was something criminals loved. It could quickly wash away any traces of their crimes.
Daredevil, Matt Murdock, had just finished his daytime job and was preparing for his second shift.
As a blind man, he would have despised rainy days if not for the rigorous training he received from Stick since childhood. Through years of pushing his body to the limit, he developed a unique "biological radar" that allowed him to perceive his surroundings without sight.
Whoosh!
Daredevil skillfully climbed up to a window, carefully listening beyond the walls, trying to determine whether this place was one of Kingpin's crime dens.
He heard faint rustling sounds, accompanied by a distinct odor.
Daredevil sniffed carefully but couldnât quite identify itâmaybe spoiled tomatoes?
This must be the place.
Lately, a powerful new drug had appeared on the market, one that extended lifespan with almost no side effects. It had become an obsession for the wealthy.
Naturally, with limited supply and limitless demand, its price on the black market had skyrocketed.
The official price from Weyland Corporation was $100,000 per pill. A full treatment required seven pillsâone a day for a weekâto extend life by two weeks.
However, from the second treatment onward, the effectiveness dropped by 30%, and by the third course, it plummeted even further.
Yet even with diminishing returns, the demand far exceeded supply. Countless people were willing to risk everythingâhiring professionals to steal, rob, con, or even assassinate for just one pill.
It had caused a surge in crime, leaving Daredevil overwhelmed. By day, he was a lawyer dealing with endless legal battles over the drug. By night, he donned his suit and wielded his baton to fight the chaos it created.
"Another crime linked to the ALIEN-1 drug⊠I wonder which rich guy Kingpinâs men are targeting this time. What a nightmare."
Daredevil remained hidden, stealthily infiltrating the building.
Everyone knew that a few extra weeks of life wasnât enough to make the big players risk everything. But this was just the first-generation drug. It was inevitable that ALIEN-2 and ALIEN-3 would follow, with stronger effects and longer lifespan extensions.
Getting their hands on the drug early meant they could study it. Reverse-engineering it would be far better than being at the mercy of Weyland Corporation.
Even if they couldnât replicate it, just surviving a few extra weeks might be enough for those near death to hold on until the next-generation drug arrivedâpotentially unlocking an endless cycle of extended life.
No one would willingly give up on more time. And when violence could buy more lifespan, crime was bound to escalate.
Once Daredevil confirmed that the people inside were trading in bloodstained ALIEN-1 pills, he didnât hesitate. He crashed through the window.
"Damn it, Daredevil! You again?!"
A throwing knife shot toward where Daredevil landed, but he had already drawn his baton and deflected it mid-air.
"Bullseye? Kingpin actually sent you? Is he dying or something? Otherwise, why would he care this much about lifespan?"
Bullseye was a towering man, his helmet marked with a bullseye symbol.
"You donât know shit! This is business! This new market is a goldmineâway more profitable than selling weapons, people, or drugs. Right now, one pill is going for half a million dollars! And it's only going to get higher!" Bullseye spat on the ground, his face twisted in greed.
For people like him, crime was about maximizing profit. If there was a way to achieve their goals through illegal means, they would take it without hesitation.
"If you love this drug so much, why donât you break into Weyland's lab and steal the formula? Afraid to try?" Daredevil taunted, shifting into a battle stance before lunging forward.
Within moments, he took down several gang members and engaged Bullseye in a fierce fight.
Bullseye slashed at Daredevilâs stomach. As Daredevil sidestepped, Bullseyeâs wrist flicked, suddenly changing the bladeâs trajectory into a horizontal cutâat the same time, he threw another hidden throwing knife.
This was Bullseyeâs specialtyâturning anything around him into a lethal weapon with pinpoint accuracy.
But Daredevil was familiar with his old foeâs tactics. He immediately dropped to the ground and rolled, avoiding the attack. It wasnât graceful, but it worked.
"You think I haven't considered that? The lab's security is insane! It's way tougher than Stark Tower or Oscorp Tower."
Plenty had tried to steal the formula, but it was impossible.
Breaking through high-tech security was one thing, but dealing with an army of eyeless, screeching alien creatures? That was another. What were they supposed to doâcharge in and brawl with xenomorphs?
That wouldnât be a heist. That would be suicide.
No matter how much Kingpin offered, Bullseye wasnât about to take that job.
"A couple million a month? Not worth my life."
"Fair enough. But I heard Weyland is openly recruiting. Theyâre expanding their business. Youâd fit right inâitâd mean one less scumbag in the world." Daredevil tried to distract Bullseye, but it didnât work.
The companyâs job listings were making headlines. In the employee benefits section, it blatantly listed "parasitic host positions" as an option.
The sheer honesty left people speechless.
Being a xenomorph host? Disgusting.
But then again, the moment you got infected, youâd transform into something beyond humanâstronger, faster, more resilient, longer-lived.
In a world where no one knew whether tomorrow or death would come first, the idea was unexpectedly popular, dominating news cycles.
Daredevil and Bullseye clashedâtwo master martial artists, trading over thirty blows without a clear winner.
Normally, their battle would have continued, but soon Bullseye was forced to stop.
He watched in horror as Daredevilâs baton struck with pinpoint force, shattering the metal vial containing over fifty pills.
Nearly $25 million worth of drugsâgone in seconds.
Bullseye nearly lost his mind.
He wanted to kill Daredevil.
But he had no choice. He turned and fled.
"If you had come just a little earlier or later, he wouldnât have escaped. I worked hard to find him." Daredevil sighed, watching Bullseye disappear through the shattered window.
Erica walked in with graceful steps.
Daredevil tilted his head, sensing the presence of his ex-girlfriend from his university days. He sighed helplessly and said, "You've changed a lot. The old you would never have said something like that. What do you mean by 'becoming one of you'?"
"It's exactly as it sounds. You always like to wander around Hell's Kitchenâdon't tell me you don't even understand this," Erica replied bluntly, showing him no courtesy. She was usually a very composed woman, but seeing Matt made her feel like losing her temper.
"You donât have a strong enough body, nor do you have the kind of regeneration ability needed for these situations. Stop running around the streets like a reckless monkey. It makes me feel like Iâm talking to an immature child."
"Oh my God, are you really Erica? No one's impersonating you, right? I actually heard concern for me coming from your mouth! It looks like that person treats you wellâso well that even your personality has changed. The good news is, youâre still you, not some alien."
Daredevil slowly stepped back, leaning against the wall, sensing the locations of numerous Xenomorphs, ready to escape at any moment.
Erica shook her head. "Youâve misunderstood. Duncan wouldnât be interested in someone like me," she said, her voice completely calm, as if she were discussing something unrelated to herself.
"Well, in that case, I can breathe a sigh of relief. A small fry like me doesnât have to worry about his retaliation," Daredevil remarked. "Even if I destroyed the valuable medicine his client purchased before it got stolen."
"You donât need to worry about that. Otherwise, why do you think Iâm here? That medicine was bought by Norman Osborn. Whether he takes it himself or tries to crack its formula, he is our client. If he gets robbed in New York, we take it back."
"Wow. What an impressive level of customer service. You guys are really dedicated when it comes to business."
For a moment, Erica couldn't tell whether Matt was being sarcastic or genuinely complimenting them.
Not long after, several Xenomorphs returned, dragging along a half-dead Bullseye and casually tossing him to the ground.
"Iâm willing to join the Weyland Corporation! I pledge my loyalty to Duncan! Iâve had enough of working for Kingpin!" Bullseye coughed up blood as he forced out the words. "I know Duncan is currently sending troops to fight a war in space. He needs world-class assassins like me, doesnât he?"
Erica nodded in agreement. "Well said. Then you can wait to be transformed into a Xenomorph and sent off to an alien battlefield."
"Wait! What I meant was, I want to be a killer who doesnât get a chestburster inside meâ"
"Thatâs not for me to decide."
The Xenomorphs dragged Bullseye away again. Once he reached the 93rd floor of Weyland Tower, he would be reborn.
"The war in space is really that intense? Even someone like Bullseye is needed?" Daredevil asked.
Erica shook her head. "We have no choice. The number of vampires around New York is dwindling. Repurposing some lowlife criminals is just an efficient use of resourcesâno waste allowed."
Daredevil had no words for that.
He also noticed a few Xenomorphs using their razor-sharp claws to carefully pick up the scattered medicine from the ground. If someone from Osborn Industries saw this, theyâd probably be quite pleased.
Rumors said Norman Osborn hadnât appeared in public for a long time. People suspected he was suffering from a health issue. Maybe it wasnât just baseless speculationâperhaps he really needed this medicine to stay alive.
"Before you get too suspicious of me, I have some unfortunate news for you," Erica said. "Stick became a vampire. Heâs now being hunted by Blade, Captain America, and the others."
His and Ericaâs martial arts master had turned into a vampire?
"Because he was about to die of old age? To extend his lifespan?" Daredevil couldnât help but ask.
But turning into a vampireâhow was that any different from joining the Eternals a few days ago?
Vampires were Duncanâs favorite hosts. Once New York ran out of them, Duncan would surely target vampires in other parts of the world.
"Iâm not sure. I only know one thingâhe must be killed. He deserves to die with dignity, not as a monster who survives by drinking human blood." Erica's voice was ice-cold. That was the greatest mercy she could offer Stick.
"What about the Chaste, the organization he led?"
"It was disbanded two days ago. Most of its members were either hunted down or absorbed by the Hand."
Daredevil was silent for a long time. The news was too shocking. His mind went blank.
He watched as Erica turned and left with the Xenomorphs. After hesitating for a moment, he followed, walking alongside several of the terrifying yet brutally efficient creatures. The experience was deeply unsettling.
Walking beside Xenomorphsâand not getting attacked by them?
"Where is Stick now?" Daredevil tensed up, staying on high alert. He had heard that Xenomorphs were highly organized and disciplined creatures, but that didnât stop his instincts from keeping his guard up.
The Xenomorphs didnât even glance at him, as if he didnât exist.
"Heâs in New York, searching for a sorcerer."
"A sorcerer? Why would Stick be looking for one?"
"There are two possibilities. If heâs searching for a dark sorcerer, heâs probably trying to use dark magic to rid himself of his vampire bloodline. If heâs looking for a Kamar-Taj sorcerer, then heâs likely seeking an audience with the Sorcerer Supreme. According to reliable intel, Stick was once taught by the Ancient One in his youth," Erica said without turning her head.
Daredevil was even more confused.
Kamar-Taj? The Ancient One? He had never heard of either.
By the time they arrived at Weyland Tower, Daredevil had only just begun to grasp the existence of this hidden world of supreme magic users.
He stood at the entrance of the tower, tilting his head up, sensing his surroundings and picking up even the subtlest details in the air. He couldnât see, but his heightened senses revealed more than sight ever could.
What he felt was surprisingâthis entire building was constructed from extremely expensive materials, thick and sturdy. He had heard rumors that Magneto himself had overseen its construction. Now he was inclined to believe them.
What truly made Daredevil hesitate, though, was that he sensed no negativity here. This place was spotlessly clean, orderly, and well-maintained.
It was hard to reconcile that with the words "Duncan" and "Xenomorphs."
He also noticed ordinary people coming and going from the tower, discussing business mattersâmedication sales, to be precise.
"Why did you stop?" Erica asked. "Most people think of Weyland Tower as a monsterâs lair. But in reality, itâs an advanced architectural marvel with breathtaking views. Even its green space is among the best in New York."
With that, she stepped up the stairs and entered through the main entrance.
After a long hesitation, Daredevil followed.
They took the elevator straight up to the 13th floor.
Some of the ordinary people who entered the building for business seemed to adapt to this place better than he did.
He made his way to the conference room on the thirteenth floor, where two people were engaged in conversation.
Daredevil finally met the master of this place.
His first instinct was to use his radar-like ability to perceive Duncan. However, the moment he did, it felt as if he had crashed into an impenetrable wall of steel. Every nerve in his body screamed in unease. In the next instant, the barrier ahead transformed into a black hole, carrying a mind-devouring force that threatened to swallow his entire consciousness.
Yet, upon closer inspection, nothing had actually happened.
âWell then, Mr. Duncan, itâs an honor to meet you. I bring my fatherâs regards. You are truly a genius and a generous man.â
âOf course. I always have been. If youâre willing to join the Weyland Group, youâll experience my generosity firsthand. What do you think, Harry?â
Harry Osbornâs expression stiffened. His words had been half genuine, half polite, but Duncan had responded in an entirely unexpected wayâextending an invitation to join him outright.
Standing before a man who was at least 2.5 meters tall and radiated an ever-present aura of impending violence, Harry felt a chill run down his spine.
âHahaha, look at your face! Itâs just a joke. Norman would never allow his son to join another company,â Duncan said with a laugh, patting Harry on the shoulder.
Harry forced a polite smile, but inwardly, he thought: This isnât just about switching companies. This could mean changing species altogether.
Elektra tossed a batch of recovered pharmaceuticals to Harry, who caught them in a hurry before quickly leaving.
Duncan watched him go and murmured, âIt seems Normanâs condition is dire. The rumors are trueâhe must be close to death. Otherwise, he wouldnât have sent his heir to negotiate with me.â
Elektra asked, âWhat do they want to collaborate on? Are they after the Xenomorph secretions? Thatâs non-negotiableâyouâve made that clear. Besides, as two biotech companies, weâre bound to clash sooner or later.â
âOf course. Anything related to the Xenomorphs is off the table. Iâm thinking of something else entirely.â
Duncan found the situation fascinating.
This universe had Oscorp. It had a dying Green Goblin. But no Spider-Man.
With just a few leading questions, Harry had unknowingly revealed information he considered trivial. He probably hadnât even realized why Duncan was so interested in his high school years. According to Harry, during a school-organized biology exhibition, Peter Parker had gone missing. Shortly after, news of his death broke.
This revelation took Duncan by surprise. He alone understood how unusual this was.
Even if Peter Parker were still just a little kid in this universe, it wouldnât matter. Even if he were middle-aged, an old Spider-Man, that would be fine too.
But for Spider-Man to have died before ever making his debutâespecially just as Norman Osborn was nearing death? That was entirely unexpected.
âIâve spent months stabilizing things, only to discover this just as I was about to establish my intelligence network⊠But how did Peter Parker die? Did he get bitten by a radioactive spider and fail to survive the venom? Or is the Spider-Man of this universe actually Aunt May or Uncle Ben?â
It was entirely possible. Duncan still didnât know the numerical designation of this universe.
Even if someone suddenly appeared one day and told him this was a Cancerverseâthat everything in this world was spiraling into a Lovecraftian nightmareâhe would accept it and begin studying parasitic evolution accordingly.
A true survivor never complains about their environment. Duncan relished a challenge.
âWhat are you thinking about? I havenât seen you this focused in a long time. Not even when we faced the Eternals,â Elektra said, waving a hand in front of his face, curiosity written all over her expression.
Duncan lifted his head. âDonât tell Druig about this. If he finds out, heâll think Iâve had some grand revelation again and will stop at nothing to track me down and demand to know what new truths Iâve uncovered.â
Druig?
Daredevil took note of the name. Based on what he knew about Duncanâs faction, there was a high likelihood that this referred to the Eternal who had famously betrayed his own kind.
Lately, the internet had been flooded with analyses about Druigâs defection. Yet, no matter how people theorized, they all seemed to arrive at the same conclusion:
Duncan was remarkable.
And so, they, too, wished to follow such an extraordinary man. If they could be his followers without getting chest-bursted or sent to the battlefield, that would be ideal.
Damn it. This was starting to look like the early days of some twisted cult. Young and naive fanatics earnestly envisioned their version of Duncan and prayed to him, hoping to reap all the benefits without bearing any of the burdens.
âMatt Murdock. The righteous guardian of Hellâs Kitchen. A blind lawyer who fights for the poor. Welcome.â
Duncan wasnât a bloodthirsty brute. He carried himself like an approachable leader.
Daredevil turned his gaze toward Elektra, his meaning clear: You told him?
âI didnât say a word. But if he wanted to know about you, it wouldnât be difficult,â Elektra shrugged. After all, the Xenomorph embedded in her chest allowed Duncan to perceive her every action.
âYouâre quite famous. And you used to be Elektraâs lover. It would be harder not to notice you,â Duncan said with a smile, shaking Daredevilâs hand as if they were two ordinary people meeting for a casual chat.
If not for the Xenomorphs acting as security around them, it might have actually felt that way.
âThank you for taking care of Elektra, sir. At least you kept her out of The Handâs graspâthatâs not a good place to be,â Daredevil said.
âIn my ranks, you can be sure of one thing: I do not treat my trusted subordinates as mere tools. But for certain people⊠I will go to great lengths to capture them and squeeze every last drop of value from themâas tools.â
âFor example⊠Bullseye?â
A chill ran down Daredevilâs spine. Once again, he was reminded of the fundamental difference between people like himself and people like Duncanâthe complete and utter disregard for human life when necessary.
Duncan poured him a glass of water. âHere, have this. I donât like tea, coffee, or soft drinks. And I havenât hired enough staff to pour drinks yet.â
Daredevil touched the glass. It was scalding hot. Then he heard Duncan casually down the boiling water in one gulp.
He fell silent.
Xenomorphs were terrifying. He didnât belong here.
âSir, forgive my bluntness, but I donât understand why someone of your status would allow Elektra to bring me here,â Daredevil finally asked.
Duncan gave him a curious look. âYou were brought here by Elektra. Naturally, she is responsible for everything you do and say. I have no need to interfere.â
"What do you think this place is? A concentration camp? An inquisition tribunal? Do you think I eradicate everything that happens without my permission? Donât be ridiculous. If I had that kind of time, Iâd rather spend it contemplating more meaningful thingsâlike which god I can take down next, or which interdimensional demon is worth eliminating."
Duncan seriously pointed out Daredevilâs mistake.
What kind of conversation was this? Daredevil felt that his own experience was too shallowâhe had absolutely no common ground with someone like Duncan. They werenât even speaking on the same wavelength.
Gods? Demons?
Even Elektra felt embarrassed for her ex-boyfriend. But there was nothing she could doâthose who hadn't joined this faction, who hadnât been parasitized by the Xenomorphs, simply couldnât comprehend many of the things that went on here.
Druig had defected the moment he sensed the depths of Duncanâs mind. That wasnât just some irrational impulseâit was entirely in line with Druigâs naturally fanatical tendencies and idealistic beliefs.
Duncan continued, "I know youâre looking for your mentor, Stick, and that you want to eliminate him. Donât get me wrongâI have no interest in Stick himself. Heâs not worth my personal attention. But I am interested in the people behind him."
"What do you need me to do?"
"If I go through Stick to find this so-called Sorcerer Supreme, will she actually meet me?"
"Of course not. Which is why I have no intention of meeting her in person."
Duncan pointed at Elektra, and Daredevil immediately understood.
Using a Xenomorph as an intermediaryâvery clever.
Daredevil made a mental note of this. He had just learned another critical piece of information about Xenomorphs: they could serve as a form of wireless communication.
What a grim joke. He wondered if Kamar-Taj had WiFi.
Daredevil was tempted to ask how Duncan knew that Stick had once trained under the Ancient One. But after some thought, he decided against it.
Elektra took the initiative to explain, "There are many sorcerers in this world. Aside from dark sorcerers, the vast majority come from Kamar-Taj. Most of them learn a spell or two and then return to the mortal world. Kamar-Taj never stops them from leaving."
So, in this world, the existence of Kamar-Taj wasnât exactly a top-secret matter. Many ordinary people probably talked about it in passingâmaybe even dismissed it as the boasts of third-rate magicians.
But finding the location of Kamar-Taj? Now that was a different issue. Even former disciples who had left couldnât disclose that information.
Duncan pondered his next move. He needed to find a way to talk to the Ancient Oneâat least to confirm what was really going on in this universe.
He couldnât remain passive forever. He hated being passive.
Of course, there was a real possibility that the Ancient One would consider him a threat. Given the immense power he had accumulated, it was theoretically part of Earthâs strength, but at this point, it had already begun to disrupt the planetâs stability.
That was why he had continuously sent forces to fight alongside the Asgardians. It was a path he could always abandon if necessary.
Even if conflict became inevitable, Duncan assessed the forces he had at his disposal. After careful consideration, he concluded that while a battle against the Ancient One wasnât unwinnable, it would be extremely risky. There were too many unknown variables. It wasnât a fight he wanted to pick unless absolutely necessary.
"Letâs see... Ancient One, are you male or female in this universe? If youâre the female version, thatâs fine. But if itâs the male, Yao, that means more trouble. Iâll have to make more careful preparations for the future and revise my development plans accordingly."
Once he confirmed this with the Ancient One, it would be time to shift his focus beyond Earth.
At the very least, he needed to resolve the Asgard situation.
They owed him a debtâtwice as much as he had expected.
It was time to collect. After everything he had done for Asgard, they had better repay him properly.
