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[Marvel: Xenomorphs] Chapter 65: Weyland Is a Serious and Proper Company
🕑 Added 2025-03-03 15:08:53 +0000 UTC“A regular agent? Hard to believe. Just a few months ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to deal with these so-called ‘regular’ agents.”
“Well, reality keeps moving forward. Haven’t you all been constantly adapting your methods to deal with me? It’s just that I’m too strong, leaving you with no viable options.” Duncan walked in.
Despite his best efforts to hide it, there was a deep sense of disappointment on Coulson’s face. “I truly thought I could win this time. No matter how I looked at it, you were the one who was supposed to lose. You had no chance.”
His voice carried exhaustion and bitterness.
How did it come to this?
Coulson had prepared meticulously for this battle. He had personally reached out to the Eternals, ventured deep into the South American rainforests, and brought back Druig.
He had run countless simulations on his computer, considering every possible factor. After learning about Druig’s abilities and how they could affect the Xenomorphs, he was convinced of his victory.
Duncan had won many times before, but this time, Coulson believed—no, he was certain—that he would finally win, just once. That would be enough. He could lock Duncan away in prison forever.
But the battle that unfolded left even an experienced agent like Coulson dumbfounded. It was as if he had picked up the wrong script, his perception altered by some unknown force, making him question whether everything he saw was an illusion.
“Druig successfully took control of all the Xenomorphs, yet he turned that power against his own kind. Such betrayal is rare in human history, let alone among the Eternals.”
Coulson slowly stood up from his desk, exhaling deeply as he stretched, feigning the demeanor of an ordinary office worker.
But he wasn’t.
“Is that your final statement?”
“Not entirely. I want to know—what exactly did Druig see in your mind? How many terrifying mental traps have you secretly implanted in yourself?” Coulson asked, his expression complicated.
Duncan countered, “Can’t it simply be that my mind is… pure?”
“Sure. Pure enough to brainwash an Eternal who’s thousands of years old and turn him into your fanatic mid-battle? I believe in science,” Coulson scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t believe a single word Duncan said.
From Coulson’s analysis, Duncan must have spent years constructing an intricate web of mental defenses—psychic labyrinths and cognitive restraints—to shield himself from telepathic intrusions.
“You did this to counter Professor X, didn’t you? That’s what I think. As far as I know, your Weyland Corporation doesn’t possess advanced psychic shielding technology like S.H.I.E.L.D. does. Unlike us, you don’t have high-tech defenses against people like Xavier, so you had to rely on this method,” Coulson stated.
Duncan glanced at the expensive surveillance equipment behind Coulson, which was actively transmitting their conversation in real-time.
Nick Fury’s voice came through the speakers. “Duncan, spare his life. I can offer you the best weapons in exchange. Ever heard of symbiotes? I’ve got a stash of them. I can give them to you, and you’d instantly command an army of incredibly powerful Xeno-Symbiotes.”
“No thanks. I’m not particularly interested in symbiotes,” Duncan replied.
“Then what’s your plan? Turn him into your puppet, like you did with Elektra and the Sentry?” Fury’s voice turned cold. “We can negotiate.”
Duncan chuckled and turned to Coulson. “Did you hear that? He’d rather see you dead than let me extract any useful information from your mind.”
“This is an agent’s fate, and you should know that,” Coulson sighed. “Once we have no way out, we’re trained to self-destruct—erase every secret we hold. That’s what high-level agents like me are supposed to do.”
He let out a helpless smile. “Director Fury initially wanted to send the Howling Commandos and Steve Rogers to protect me, but I declined. If the Eternals lost, there was no way I could escape. Besides, an agent who fails the same mission multiple times has no value.”
“I had high hopes for you,” Duncan remarked. “You’re diligent and dedicated, but that’s exactly your problem. You focused all your efforts, all your strategies, solely on dealing with me.”
“Goodbye, Coulson.”
A Xenomorph emerged from behind Duncan, its tail whipping forward and piercing Coulson’s skull, destroying his brain.
Duncan sighed, glanced at Coulson’s lifeless body, and then sat down in the seat Coulson had occupied moments before.
“Nick Fury, are you satisfied now? Your operation has been dismantled once again. Your most trusted agent is dead at my hands. The only difference this time is that I’ve grown stronger. The power of the Eternals is now mine.”
Duncan continued, “You can afford to fail countless times, but with each victory I claim, I take a giant leap forward, limiting the options you have left.”
“That was your victory speech? Pretty basic,” Fury said.
“No, this is my declaration of war. You’d better hope I never find out where you are. Though, knowing your paranoid nature, I’d guess that the moment Druig switched sides, you already fled to some secret location, far from civilization, with all the necessary precautions in place.”
“You’re right. But I’d prefer you use the word ‘retreat’ rather than ‘flee.’ This is far from over,” Fury responded.
“It’s already over. You’re powerless against someone like me. Your best chance was to take me down before I revealed my full potential. Unfortunately for you, who would pay attention to a nobody? By the time you reacted, it was too late.”
Duncan smirked. “And now, you’re not just dealing with me—you’ve got the mutants to worry about too. Neither of us is a threat you can handle alone.”
“Watch closely, Duncan. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not as simple as you think.”
Fury ended the transmission. There was no point in continuing. After this failure, he needed time to regroup, to find the right people to fill the void left by Coulson’s death.
But he had not conceded. As long as he lived, and as long as S.H.I.E.L.D. endured, the war was not over.
“If pheromones and telepathy both failed, then what other methods…? There must be something. If the mundane world offers no solution, then I’ll turn to the arcane.”
Ultimately, Duncan was just one piece of the puzzle. The real threat was still the mutants.
S.H.I.E.L.D.’s eagerness to control Duncan’s growing army, hoping to turn that power against the mutants and other threats, had brought them to this point. Coulson’s death was merely a consequence of their ambition.
Every event inevitably causes ripples across time, and at certain critical junctures, those ripples can become tidal waves, altering the course of history.
With a deafening explosion, the entire building was engulfed in lightning and crumbled into ruins.
When Duncan emerged from the destruction, everyone understood what had happened.
The mastermind behind it all—was dead.
But who could it have been?
There were many who coveted the Xenomorphs, but few dared to challenge Duncan directly. Even fewer could rally the Eternals to fight against him.
At this point, however, no one cared who had died.
Because the dead no longer mattered.
“The entire Eternals army has been wiped out. What a pity—these people contributed so much to humanity.”
“Tsk tsk, I just want to know what Duncan said to that Eternal who could control the Xenomorphs. Whatever it was, it made him so agitated that he immediately started a rebellion.”
“Who knows? It must have been some intelligence shocking enough to overturn his understanding of reality. Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. or some telepath managed to eavesdrop on it remotely.”
“If that rebellious Eternal could control the Xenomorphs, doesn’t that mean telepaths are Duncan’s natural enemies? Maybe we should find some telepaths to control the Xenomorphs ourselves.”
“That’s a brilliant idea. I suggest you go try it right now—then wait for Duncan to capture you and send you off to fight in Asgard’s wars. Let’s see… do people who need money take an interest in banks? Why don’t they just rob them? Oh wait, is it because they simply never thought of it?”
In the underworld, those with access to information were constantly exchanging intelligence, and without exception, all of it revolved around Duncan.
Across the globe, no one and nothing attracted more interest than Duncan and the Xenomorphs.
On a steel island in the middle of the ocean—
“The Eternals have failed. Aside from Ikaris, who remains distant, the others have all met a tragic fate.”
Professor X removed his Cerebro helmet, his expression unnervingly calm.
Originally, he had been checking to see whether Duncan was treating the captured mutants from Stryker properly.
Even if these mutants had lost their self-awareness and now existed solely as tools, tools still had their uses.
Throwing them into Asgard’s wars was one option. Keeping them as security in the Weyland Building was another.
Thankfully, Duncan’s approach gave Professor X a sense of relief—at the very least, he wasn’t treating mutants as disposable assembly-line products. That was a small comfort.
Yet, during his observation, he had also witnessed the Eternals’ full-scale attack—only for them to be utterly annihilated.
“Every time you use Cerebro, it makes me nervous. I always worry something will go wrong with your mind,” Mystique said, frowning.
“I won’t fall before our cause is complete. My mind is one of our strongest weapons.”
“But new recruits might fear your abilities,” Mystique murmured.
Cyclops, however, stated matter-of-factly, “Then they were never truly our brothers and sisters to begin with. Anyone harboring ill intent doesn’t deserve to join us.”
Around them, the former Brotherhood mutants exchanged odd looks, staring at Cyclops.
Ill intent? How many Brotherhood members hadn’t done questionable things in the past? How many didn’t harbor any darkness within them?
Even now, there were plenty of mutants who resented and distrusted Professor X.
Take Azazel, for example—he feared both Professor X and Magneto, yet deep down, he didn’t truly care about either of them.
Unifying the X-Men and the Brotherhood was difficult enough. Bringing in those powerful, dangerous indiviDuncanls who operated outside both groups? That was an entirely different challenge.
Professor X observed their varying expressions. Even without using his telepathy, he could roughly guess what they were thinking.
“We will establish strict and comprehensive laws, categorizing different superpowers in detail and setting up special guidance courses for young mutants as they awaken.”
He pointed to his own head. “Of course, we will also regulate when and how abilities can be used. I’ll lead by example—after all, my mind is the ‘weapon’ the world fears most.”
His words carried a trace of self-mockery, easing the tension in the room.
“It’s inevitable—those remaining Eternals will ultimately fall under Duncan’s control. With each victory, his power will undergo an earth-shattering transformation,” Magneto said.
He had complete faith in Professor X’s abilities—whether it was his telepathy, moral character, or leadership. As long as he shed his past naïve beliefs about humanity, Charles Xavier would undoubtedly be an excellent leader.
Even so, Magneto remained more interested in Duncan—curious as to how he had managed to turn the tide.
Professor X mused, “Conversely, if Duncan suffers a significant setback, he might fall into an abyss from which he could never recover.”
“How did he turn that Eternal against his own kind? You said he was a telepath as strong as you.”
Magneto instinctively thought of his helmet. Could it be that in the brief time Duncan had captured him, he had studied and replicated the technology for a telepathic shielding helmet?
But no… things couldn’t be that simple.
“Duncan didn’t employ any form of defense—he let Druig invade his mind freely,” Professor X said, his face full of disbelief. “Druig must have seen something utterly terrifying—something that made him abandon everything he once believed in, choosing instead to stand with Duncan and slaughter his own people.”
“I don’t believe Duncan has a normal human brain. His mind must be filled with all sorts of cognitive traps,” Magneto replied. Mystique nodded in agreement.
It wasn’t unheard of to implement mental defenses within one’s own mind.
Even some exceptionally strong-willed indiviDuncanls, despite being mere mortals, could resist telepathic invasions through psychological conditioning, self-hypnosis, or constructing personal logic systems only they could navigate.
Case in point: Batman.
God only knows how many layers of mental labyrinths he had built within his own mind, how many blind spots he had designed that even divine beings would struggle to detect.
“Charles, if Druig could do it, so can you. You could control all the Xenomorphs in an instant—even Duncan himself—just by invading his mind.” Magneto found the thought amusing.
Duncan had once parasitized him. Now, Duncan was being pressured by Professor X. And Professor X, to some extent, still listened to Magneto.
Professor X said nothing. He was already working on adjusting his old beliefs.
When it came to the fate of mutantkind, some of his past ideals would have to be set aside. There was no other choice.
But controlling Duncan…? Somehow, Professor X doubted it would be that easy.
Druig had already lost himself—like a fanatic, he had completely devoted himself to Duncan. No one knew what he had seen inside Duncan’s mind, but whatever it was, it had reversed his entire worldview. He had willingly abandoned his Eternal heritage and mission to follow Duncan with unwavering loyalty.
“We’re allies for now. There may come a time when we fight alongside him,” Professor X finally said. He really didn’t want to find himself on the opposite side of someone as troublesome as Duncan.
While Professor X pondered, the last remaining Eternal was deep in thought as well.
Ikaris didn’t even dare to show himself. Relying on his superhuman vision and hearing, he constantly monitored his surroundings, avoiding any trace of Xenomorphs.
“Their numbers are steadily increasing… all over the world…”
His expression darkened.
Ever since Ajak and the others had cast him out, his mood had remained sour. Now, he was nothing more than a wanderer, roaming the Earth without a home.
A wandering Eternal? Ikaris found the thought absurd. He was one of Arishem’s most valued Eternals—how had he fallen to such a state on this insignificant planet?
Why? Oh, it was all because of that man—Duncan—and the Xenomorphs under his command.
"Ajak is dead. Sersi is dead too..."
A flicker of pain flashed through Ikaris’ eyes, but it wasn’t much.
Did he have feelings for his fellow Eternals? Of course, but not enough. If sacrificing a teammate meant gaining a greater advantage, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.
And as it turned out, Ikaris was the last Eternal left standing. But he doubted he would survive for much longer.
Because he had noticed something troubling—among Duncan’s Xenomorph legion, a new figure had emerged: a man called the Sentinel. He, too, could fly. He might even possess enhanced vision and hearing. And, just like Ikaris, he could fire heat vision from his eyes.
Perhaps he was even stronger. That thought made Ikaris deeply anxious. If Duncan decided to scour the entire planet for him, what could he do? Run? He had no place left on Earth. His only option would be to flee into the depths of space.
"Ajak and the others have probably already become Duncan’s Xenomorphs. All the power they accumulated over the years… now it all belongs to him. How am I supposed to fight against so many powerful enemies?"
Ikaris felt wretched. Looking back, all he did was take the initiative in attacking Duncan and the Xenomorphs. Yet now, this was his reality—out of the eleven Eternals, only he remained.
Druig no longer counted. His body and mind had already been consumed by the Xenomorphs.
Would he have to submit to Duncan as Druig had?
It was an idea worth considering. From what he had observed, Duncan treated his subordinates fairly well and rarely interfered with their actions.
Just as this thought crossed his mind, darkness suddenly engulfed his vision. In an instant, he found himself standing in the vast cosmos, where countless stars shimmered in the distance.
A colossal figure appeared before him.
"Arishem?!"
Ikaris' expression was one of utter disbelief.
—
"Arishem must have sensed the changes on Earth. He should respond… hopefully."
Back in Weyland Tower, Duncan turned to Druig and asked, "Has Arishem contacted you?"
"No. Ikaris is still alive. If Arishem were to reach out, he would contact him first." Druig shook his head, then looked at Duncan with fervent admiration. "Besides, Arishem no longer matters. You are the truth. You should be the god."
He had never encountered anyone like Duncan before. Even on a spiritual level, Arishem paled in comparison to the entity that was Duncan—the consciousness of countless beings fused into one.
But in terms of raw power, Arishem was still stronger.
"Thank you for the praise," Duncan said smoothly. "I’m not a particularly humble person, so I can handle as much flattery as you want to give me."
Duncan had noticed something peculiar—ever since Druig defected to the Xenomorphs, his mindset had swung from one extreme to another.
In the psychic realm, this was evident as well. Duncan could connect with every Xenomorph, which meant he could also perceive Druig’s consciousness indirectly. The once-mind master’s psyche had transformed into a blinding light, orbiting Duncan alongside the rest of the Xenomorphs.
Clearly, after Druig had fully submitted to him, Duncan’s resistance to psychic influence had skyrocketed. One of his greatest weaknesses had just been patched.
Even if he were to face Professor X now, Duncan was confident he could mount a solid mental defense.
That was the terrifying thing about Duncan—his consciousness and mental strength only grew stronger as his Xenomorph army expanded. Every single Xenomorph served as an unbreakable shield for him.
"Tiamut, Earth’s slumbering Celestial, remains dormant. By all logic, it’s only a matter of time before he awakens. As long as nothing happens to Tiamut, Arishem won’t take action personally," Duncan mused.
Every newborn Celestial was essentially nurtured by the conscious energy of countless intelligent beings—only to eventually eradicate those very beings.
Once matured, the Celestial would journey across the cosmos, generating gravity, light, and heat to facilitate the birth of more life.
"We have more than enough time to neutralize Arishem as a threat. Besides, even if he were to descend upon Earth right now, there’s no guarantee he’d leave unscathed."
After all, the Ancient One guarded Earth, and the Time Stone was here as well. If they could repel Dormammu, they could deal with Arishem too.
"Ikaris is a loose end. I’ll find him and bring him into our fold," Druig volunteered.
His eagerness was enough to draw glances. At the very least, Elektra looked at him with a strange expression.
"Chestburster or no chestburster?" she asked.
"It doesn’t matter. No matter the method, he will always be one of us. As long as you live, he will never be separated from us. That is the truth I see."
Druig’s gaze burned with devotion whenever he looked at Duncan. But when he turned to others, his eyes turned cold.
Duncan didn’t mind Druig’s fanaticism. Casually, he said, "Then I’ll leave it to you. If you need assistance, just say the word. There’s no place for Eternals who still serve the Celestials on this planet anymore. Oh, and that spaceship outside—make sure it’s properly stored. Park it in the open space north of Weyland Tower and activate its cloaking system."
Druig left immediately, diligently carrying out his orders.
But as soon as he stepped outside, he was met with a large crowd of humans gathering once again.
Listening to their voices, Druig realized that many of them revered Duncan just as much as he did. They longed to join him.
"Even if it's just to seek power—to transform from ordinary humans into superhumans—it’s something worth acknowledging. It only proves further that Duncan is right. Everyone’s consciousness should be linked together," Druig thought.
Someone spotted him and shouted his name.
Some praised his bold move of leading the Xenomorphs against the Eternals, while others eagerly asked to join Duncan’s ranks.
"Sir, what’s your name? Why did you break away from the other superhumans?"
"Look at me! I’m strong! I’d make an excellent Xenomorph host—just as long as I don’t get a chestburster."
Druig realized he had underestimated the fanaticism of these people.
Then again, in a world growing ever more chaotic—where battles between superheroes and supervillains often left countless civilians caught in the crossfire—what could be more important than obtaining power?
And when it came to gaining power, Duncan’s Xenomorphs were an option no one could ignore.
Through numerous battles and relentless vampire hunts, these once-shadowy creatures, lurking in alleyways, had been exposed to the public eye.
Joining Duncan meant gaining access to the Xenomorphs. In an instant, one could transcend humanity at low cost and with high rewards. It was an opportunity that drew hopefuls and thrill-seekers alike.
To Druig, their desires only served as proof of the inevitable future.
"They’re weak… but if we let the Xenomorphs infect them, they could be useful… No, our strength is already overwhelming. We don’t need them. Not yet."
Druig ignored the crowd and boarded the massive spaceship they had arrived on when they first came to Earth.
Naturally, this caused a huge commotion, with countless people pulling out their cameras and frantically snapping photos.
Everything seemed to settle down.
With Duncan seemingly halting his advance on the surface, the entire world suddenly felt much quieter. Superheroes and supervillains alike were preoccupied with their own matters, and the mutants were busy determining the location for their new nation.
It was a rare period of peace.
As time passed, something unexpected happened—Weyland Corporation's name began to spread, gaining increasing prominence as the company started producing various medical drugs.
Those aware of the truth behind it knew that these drugs were likely spearheaded by Mr. Blue, also known as Samuel Sterns.
That alone was surprising enough, but what truly shook the world was when Weyland released a drug capable of extending human lifespan—codenamed ALIEN-1.
The global reaction was explosive.
A drug that could prolong life? In the 21st century, such a thing was beyond belief. Many initially suspected it was an elaborate scam.
However, the moment they saw that the drug was produced by Weyland Corporation—and more importantly, that the company was led by Duncan—they fell silent, though their skepticism remained strong.
Then, as some brave individuals took the risk and tested the drug—confirming its effectiveness—the world's media erupted.
Even those who had previously criticized Duncan and his Xenomorphs online completely reversed their stance, now praising Weyland Corporation for making history and leading the advancement of Earth's biotechnology.
“The drug is real? It actually works by extending human telomeres?”
“I don’t buy it. No need for any special health regimens—just one pill and you get a longer life? There’s gotta be a catch.”
“Taking the drug for a week extends lifespan by about two weeks. But with each dose, the effect diminishes significantly until it eventually stops working altogether. It’s not like you can suddenly gain years or decades in one go. This has been verified.”
“Tsk… I just want to know how this drug is actually made…”
Of course, powerful organizations with expertise in biological research quickly figured it out.
“This… this seems to be derived from Xenomorph secretions? We can’t be certain, but the molecular structure is strikingly similar! Xenomorphs can be used like this?”
If anyone had the authority to comment on this, it was S.H.I.E.L.D. After all, they had briefly possessed a batch of Xenomorphs before and had preserved some specimens for study.
“A while ago, Duncan had Samuel Sterns register a large number of trademarks. Looks like it was all in preparation for this.”
To be honest, no one had expected this turn of events.
Since its founding, when had Weyland Corporation ever operated like a conventional business? It had primarily focused on cultivating Xenomorphs and expanding its own power.
Even its headquarters was just an old, abandoned building—originally approved by Stryker—dilapidated, with leaks everywhere.
But now? They had constructed a massive skyscraper. And now, they were seriously conducting research?
On top of that, they were selling longevity-enhancing drugs derived from Xenomorph secretions, winning over public opinion worldwide.
Some more cynical minds speculated that Duncan was setting up a long-term strategy.
“He's playing the long game. If he ever needs more soldiers, he’ll have a global supply of ‘willing’ hosts.”
He wouldn’t even need to recruit elite soldiers directly—just use a bunch of homeless people as hosts, and within minutes, he’d have an army of battle-ready Xenomorph warriors.
From the public’s perspective, Weyland Corporation’s status in biotechnology skyrocketed overnight. After all, no one would reject the opportunity to extend their lifespan.
Throughout all this, Duncan remained completely calm.
It was true—using Xenomorph secretions to create a drug that extended human lifespan was something he had planned from the very beginning.
“Humans have an average lifespan of just a few decades. That’s far too short. Left to their own devices, who knows how long it would take them to develop life-extending drugs? Since I have the Xenomorphs, I might as well take the lead.”
Sitting on a bench, Duncan gazed through the glass, looking down at the world below.
The area surrounding Weyland Tower was still relatively desolate, with few buildings nearby. But that was only temporary.
It wouldn’t be long before people started migrating here, settling in the vicinity of the tower.
After all, as the world continued its downward spiral, as countless disasters took more lives, leaving people in ever-deepening pain and despair, they would eventually come to a realization—this was the safest place to be.
Xenomorphs constantly patrolled the streets and alleys, eliminating any who harbored ill intentions.
Duncan lowered his gaze, looking at the growing number of people outside—those desperate to join Weyland Corporation and become superhumans. He shook his head.
This is just the beginning, and they’re already this anxious? The future will be far more overwhelming.
“Binding the world through Xenomorph fear. Manipulating global society with Xenomorph-based longevity drugs. In the end, this planet will be completely dependent on the Xenomorphs… and on me.”
And when that time came…
A vast, inexhaustible army would stand as Duncan’s ultimate stronghold.
An overwhelming force of Xenomorph superhumans would surge into deep space, revealing their razor-sharp claws to the universe.
