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[Marvel: Xenomorphs] Chapter 63: Who Can Fulfill His Fantasy? Could It Be Duncan?
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 16:51:27 +0000 UTCDuncan had secretly released Xenomorphs across the world, ready to let them evolve into Queens at any time. By using the Xenomorph plague as a strategic weapon, he could effectively hold the world hostage.
This was no secret, and it was undeniably effective. Even before gaining full control over the Xenomorph Sentrys, Duncan had already forced the world into a position where no one dared to act recklessly against him. Unless absolutely necessary, no one wanted to openly confront him.
However, the global effort to locate the Xenomorphs had never ceased. If they could find a way to pinpoint every single Xenomorph’s location and gain the ability to eliminate them all in an instant, they could nullify Duncan’s biological threat.
Professor X should have been the ideal candidate for such a task. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, he had allied himself with Magneto.
Coulson considered this with some regret, but he had already found the best possible candidate to counter the Xenomorphs.
“You said you want to help me? With just you ordinary humans?”
The young man before him had an unremarkable appearance, but an unusual psychic aura radiated from him—an innate form of telepathy.
Most importantly, the Xenomorph standing silently behind him should have been hunting in the South American rainforest as one of Duncan’s bio-weapons. And yet, here it was—calm, obedient.
Coulson felt reassured. This Eternal in front of him truly possessed a special ability—a natural dominance over all living creatures, one that gave him an unparalleled influence and control.
“Druig, isn't it? One of the hidden Eternals—how fitting. We went through quite some trouble tracking you down.” Coulson spoke with deliberate enthusiasm.
Druig coldly eyed him. “Get out. I have no interest in the affairs of the outside world.”
“Not even when your fellow Eternals have been killed?” Coulson pressed. “A lot has happened recently—”
“I know.”
Druig cut him off, his icy gaze shifting past Coulson to the armed agents behind him. Then, he gestured to the Xenomorph beside him. “This Xenomorph has been in several battles. I’ve already seen everything through its mind. My ‘kin’ were restless as ever and ended up clashing with someone named Duncan. They suffered a terrible defeat.”
Even Makkari had died…
A fleeting trace of sorrow passed through Druig’s otherwise detached eyes—but only for an instant.
Unlike the other ten Eternals, his ideology had always been at odds with theirs. For centuries, he had remained in seclusion deep within the rainforest, avoiding all contact with his kin.
If anything had truly piqued his interest, it wasn’t the deaths of his fellow Eternals—it was this Xenomorph that had somehow traversed mountains and jungles to take root in his domain. This was the first time he had encountered such a fascinating creature.
With its natural exoskeletal armor, towering physique, and sleek, predatory form, Druig could tell at a glance—this was a species engineered purely for slaughter.
Through their mental connection, he had confirmed this. He had even detected traces of Duncan’s influence.
But it didn’t matter. Druig had absolute confidence in his abilities. He was destined to be the ultimate friend of all creatures.
That, of course, included Xenomorphs.
See? This one was already following him like a loyal guardian.
What Druig appreciated most about Xenomorphs wasn’t their combat prowess, however.
“I have no interest in external conflicts. My Xenomorph companion has already told me that the last batch of Deviants has been wiped out. That gives me even less reason to leave.”
Druig’s expression darkened with impatience as he glared at the heavily armed agents. “If you’ve come for this Xenomorph, forget it. I won’t give it to you. Its mind is far purer than yours—it’s not tainted by the filth of human hypocrisy.”
Pure mind?
Coulson’s face stiffened slightly.
Well, sure, Xenomorphs were pure when it came to their goals. Their entire existence revolved around one thing—killing anything in their path or dragging victims back for parasitic reproduction. Vampires could certainly attest to that.
“Your kin recommended you to me. You don’t care about that either?”
“My kin?” Druig scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. “Who are you referring to? Ikaris, the traitor? Or Ajak and her band of self-righteous fools?”
Now, Coulson understood why this Eternal was at odds with Ajak and the others—he seemed a bit cynical.
"For the past seven thousand years, we have witnessed humanity's journey from savagery to civilization. We have watched over human history with our own eyes, silently protecting them by eliminating the Deviants," Druig said, his expression growing twisted.
Coulson frowned slightly but quickly relaxed, cautiously replying, "Yes, humanity's progress is partly thanks to you. That’s exactly why, in the face of an evil enemy like Duncan, you should unite with the other Eternals—"
"Unite? You, a mere human, dare talk to me about unity?!"
Druig's voice suddenly rose, almost to a shout. "I have seen countless humans slaughter each other, genocide after genocide! As Eternals, we had the power to stop it, to guide you toward peace. And yet? Who allowed all this to happen? Who let the world become the mess it is today? Ajak! And now she’s involving herself in human affairs again? What a joke!"
At that moment, Coulson fully grasped Druig's stance—an idealist, someone who subconsciously saw himself as the guardian of human civilization, bearing the responsibility of guiding its future.
But clearly, the other Eternals—especially their leader, Ajak—did not share his views. After eliminating the Deviants, they chose to retreat from human civilization, each going into seclusion.
Druig's resentment and his complete severance from the other Eternals stemmed from this deep ideological divide.
"That’s exactly why we need you to step up. The best time to plant a tree was ten years ago. The second best time is now." Coulson looked at him earnestly. "You have the power to make a difference, just as you always have."
Druig fell silent for a moment.
"Fine. I don’t know what Ajak told you, and I don’t care about whatever ugly scheme you people have planned."
His irritation was evident. "But Ajak is wrong. Human society should be far better than it is now!"
"Exactly. That’s why we need you to stand up."
Deep inside, Coulson felt a twinge of pity for Druig.
Since when did humanity need an Eternal to lead them?
Druig shot him a sharp glance and sneered. "You should really learn to control your thoughts. Even if I’m not actively reading your mind, your thoughts shine like a beacon in the dark."
Pity? Druig didn’t care about that. If he had ever cared about what others thought, he wouldn’t have severed ties with his fellow Eternals in the first place.
"The most urgent issue right now is that we’re dealing with an extremely dangerous enemy. He’s rapidly expanding his forces, brutally capturing different species to sacrifice for his Xenomorphs," Coulson explained. "From a human perspective, his actions are absolutely unforgivable."
"Then let me ask you this," Druig said coldly. "This villain, Duncan—has he ever implanted an embryo in a human host? Even once?"
Coulson hesitated. "Yes. As far as I know, he infected a human dark sorcerer—"
"I told you, this Xenomorph beside me has fought in many battles. If it weren’t a seasoned warrior, Duncan wouldn’t have sent it to survive in a place like this."
Druig cut him off brusquely. "That dark sorcerer—he killed far more people than any Xenomorph ever has! So what exactly is your point?"
Coulson thought for a moment. If mutants counted as humans, then Duncan had indeed attacked Alkali Lake, capturing a group of brainwashed mutants. But would he actually implant embryos in them? Hopefully, Magneto and Professor X were already opposing him.
Clearly, in Druig’s mind, implantation and chest-bursting were two entirely different concepts.
As Coulson mentally calculated the situation, a chilling realization hit him.
Duncan’s entire campaign of abductions and experiments—every single host he had captured—was either an animal or a vampire. His implantation rate for regular humans was practically zero.
What did that imply?
That this self-proclaimed bio-military leader, this warlord who repeatedly defied the established order, who had caused countless direct and indirect upheavals, was actually… protecting humanity?
The very idea was absurd!
For a brief moment, Coulson felt a deep sense of irony, as if he were witnessing a mass murderer, dripping with blood, proclaiming to his victims, "I'm doing this for your own good."
By that logic, should New York's crime lord, Kingpin, be crowned as a saint of human civilization?
Duncan’s rapid expansion and calculated, methodical approach unsettled Coulson deeply.
Raw power alone wasn’t the most terrifying thing. Even a massive army wasn’t enough to instill despair.
The real nightmare was when someone possessed both—and remained unnervingly, impossibly calm.
Druig finally said, "I have a great fondness for Xenomorphs. Their minds are pure. So, I’m going to meet Duncan myself. If he’s unworthy of them, I will strip him of his control over them."
Coulson smiled. "Of course. He’s a skilled strategist and an ambitious man. But I assure you, he never anticipated encountering someone like you. Druig… you must stop him."
The conversation hadn’t unfolded exactly as Coulson had envisioned, but the outcome was exactly what he wanted.
He needed Druig to sever Duncan’s control over the Xenomorphs. That alone would be enough. Without them, Duncan’s power would be cut in half.
And if things went even better than expected—if Druig could control the unhatched Xenomorph embryos within the Sentrys—then they could even turn Duncan’s own forces against him.
Duncan would be cornered, with no way out.
His empire, built so carefully, would crumble overnight, every ounce of progress swallowed by S.H.I.E.L.D.
Coulson smiled as he led Druig and the Xenomorph onto the helicopter. The group quickly departed from South America, heading toward North America.
Even on the flight, Coulson kept glancing at Druig and the Xenomorph, eagerly anticipating the look on Duncan’s face when he realized he had lost control.
"No matter how cunning Duncan is, against an Eternal with such overwhelming psychic abilities, he’s bound to suffer an unimaginable defeat." Coulson thought.
Duncan knew about Ikaris and the others, but did he also have a clear understanding of Druig, who hadn’t meddled in worldly affairs for centuries? Impossible—Duncan wasn’t omniscient.
...
Alkali Lake
The raging flood roared like an earth-shaking beast, carrying billions of tons of water as it surged downward with unstoppable force.
It was foreseeable that, before long, the downstream towns would suffer catastrophic damage, and many lives would be lost.
Duncan and his group forcefully broke through the torrent.
Looking up at the invisible jet in the sky, Duncan said calmly, “You’re late.”
Several mutants leaped down from the aircraft.
“Is Stryker dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead. By now, his corpse is probably nothing more than a pulp of flesh and crushed stone,” Duncan remarked casually.
“Serves him right. A scumbag like him should’ve died long ago,” Cyclops spat on the ground, feeling vindicated.
Magneto, his face grim, stared coldly at Duncan without speaking. Or rather, he had no idea how to communicate with him—discuss chestburster care tips, perhaps?
He’d rather stick to manipulating metal.
“Duncan, those mutants are just innocent kids. They were forcibly captured and brainwashed by Stryker! I can hear the pain in their hearts,” Professor X said, his face pale as he sat in his wheelchair.
Hearing this, Duncan turned to look at his spoils of war.
Each Xenomorph was holding one or two mutants, more or less.
“Charles, that’s quite rude of you. Instead of focusing on recovering your health, you come to me asking for people? You know I need manpower more than you do. You have the X-Men, the Brotherhood, and countless mutants around the world eager to join you. What do I have?” Duncan shook his head.
Professor X responded, “You also have countless humans who want to follow you. They’re gathered around your new fortress, hoping to become your soldiers and seek protection.”
Duncan smirked. Was that even the same thing?
A bunch of ordinary humans—whether he chose to implant chestbursters or not—would only have limited usefulness. But mutants were different. When fused with Xenomorphs, they could integrate both genetic systems, combining the strengths of both species. Their combat effectiveness would increase exponentially.
Just imagine—a mutant with even a minor superpower, enhanced by an immensely strong physique and an extraordinary healing factor. If they were willing to self-mutilate, they could even weaponize their Xenomorph blood. The transformation would be nothing short of revolutionary.
Duncan remained silent, but the Sentry standing beside him sensed his leader’s intent. He stepped forward, clenched his fists, and sneered, “Who the hell do you think you are? You did nothing, and now you want to take everything we’ve worked for?”
“You’re spewing nonsense! They’re not objects—they’re living, breathing people!” Wolverine growled, tossing away his cigar.
His action successfully drew the Sentry’s attention. In a flash, he transformed into a streak of golden light, moving so fast that most present couldn’t even react. With a thunderous punch, Wolverine was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, leaving a trail of blood in the air.
“What, I didn’t punch through his chest? Oh, I get it—he’s Wolverine,” the Sentry muttered, shaking his fist in annoyance. Running into two freakishly durable individuals in a row was frustrating.
But it wasn’t a problem. At least one of them—Lady Deathstrike—was already in their hands. Soon, she would be one of them.
With the Sentry’s sudden attack, the tension in the air became palpable.
Jean Grey, in particular, reacted aggressively. Terrifying energy surged around her, her immense telekinetic power raging wildly. She was nothing like her once gentle and composed self.
“Calm down, Jean. They are not our enemies,” Professor X said urgently.
The Sentry snorted, his golden aura blazing. “Even if we were, you’d still be nothing but defeated pawns.”
“That’s enough, Reynolds. Shut up,” Duncan ordered. “The flood is gaining momentum. Stop holding back and divert it to an uninhabited area.”
The Sentry immediately conjured a continuous stream of golden barriers, using his energy in an almost wasteful display of raw power. As the golden force clashed with the raging flood, the deafening impact shook the entire mountain.
He let out a bestial roar, releasing waves of energy that carved massive fissures into the ground.
“This isn’t the place for a discussion. We’re leaving,” Duncan declared. He wasn’t asking for their opinion.
“You can take our jet—”
“No need. I have a better way to travel.”
Duncan swung Mjolnir and soared into the sky. Meanwhile, the Hyper-Speed Xenomorphs blurred across the battlefield, swiftly retrieving the remaining Xenomorphs and, of course, their war spoils.
“Should we follow them? Picking a fight with Duncan right now would be terrible for our cause. Besides, he was the one who rescued those mutants. We were, ultimately, too late,” Magneto said, frustrated.
Every encounter with Duncan was suffocating. No matter how they acted, it felt like they were on the losing side. He hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time.
The chestburster inside him pulsed with each breath, as if echoing his unspoken words, making Magneto’s expression even more complicated.
Professor X remained silent, gazing into the distance at the Sentry—an overwhelming powerhouse who followed Duncan with unwavering loyalty. Then, in a low voice, he said, “You all misunderstand me. It’s true that we must protect our mutant brothers and sisters, but not without limits… Things are different now. If we are to establish our own nation, sacrifices will be necessary.”
Everyone turned to stare at Professor X in shock, as if they were seeing him for the first time.
None of them were fools—they understood the implication behind his words.
Wolverine, his face battered, limped back. He had been knocked across the battlefield twice in such a short span of time. Gritting his teeth, he growled, “Then why the hell did you say all that earlier? You risked pushing Duncan away, for what?”
“Logan, show some respect to the Professor,” Cyclops snapped. He was sick of Wolverine’s constant lack of decorum. More than once, he had been tempted to blast him with an optic beam.
Wolverine shot Cyclops a glare but didn’t argue further. He stared straight at Professor X.
“We need to unite more people, weaken and eliminate those who oppose us—even if they are mutants who might hinder our grand vision… But Duncan is different. There’s a chance he could be on our side, a potential ally. That’s why I want him to value our mutant brethren.”
Unconsciously, Professor X's face grew even paler. Even he could hardly believe that such a blatant display of political maneuvering would come from his own mouth—and that he would actually begin to act on it.
Magneto looked at him approvingly. “You’ve finally woken up, Charles. If we can’t even come to this realization, we might as well abandon our independence, surrender to the humans, and wait for them to exterminate us.”
“So what should we do? Just let Duncan implant his parasites into those mutants?” Jean's voice was cold.
Magneto shot her a wary glance. He was deeply cautious of this fellow mutant, whose potential power was terrifyingly vast. He replied, “What’s the alternative? Don’t forget, those people were brainwashed countless times by Stryker. They’ve been turned into mindless weapons. At least with Duncan, they’ll be placed under strict control instead of being left to run amok.”
“It seems Duncan put you in the ‘right place’ after capturing you. Otherwise, you’d probably be running wild right now,” Jean Grey retorted, her words now carrying an unmistakable sharpness. An invisible wave of psychic energy pulsed outward as she spoke.
The flicker of rage in Magneto’s eyes was gone in an instant. He was about to act, but Professor X subtly shook his head in warning before turning his attention to Jean, speaking with concern. “We need to have a proper conversation.”
“About what?”
“You are an irreplaceable member of our group. Right now, our top priority is to help you unlock your full potential—and control it.”
Jean remained silent. Though her dominant personality was still in control, she nodded slightly.
In that moment, the trajectory of fate shifted once more, veering toward an outcome none of them had foreseen.
Duncan had anticipated changes in destiny like this. He also knew that sooner or later, Professor X and Magneto would go on to establish the mutant nation on the living island, Krakoa.
But this particular deviation—this part—was beyond Duncan’s expectations.
“They didn’t follow me? So that was their plan… A reminder, and a warning.”
Through the embryo inside Magneto, Duncan understood what Professor X was implying. Treasure them? If he could effectively utilize these brainwashed mutants, that was already the greatest form of “treasuring” them.
Otherwise, even if he handed them over to Professor X, there was no guarantee that their minds could ever fully recover.
Regardless, Duncan had no intention of compromising. What he obtained through strength, he would never return to Professor X.
“The Professor is a man of principle. The only way someone like him would ever make a concession is for the sake of a so-called ‘great cause,’” Duncan mused.
Across countless realities, whenever ideological extremes united, it was always through bloodshed and tragedy. As mutant leaders, both Magneto and Professor X had personally taken the lives of numerous mutants.
But that had nothing to do with Duncan. He had no interest in mutant affairs—his only concern was securing his spoils of war.
Yet, just as Duncan and his forces returned to Weyland Tower and barely had time to rest—
“…Hmm? The Xenomorph I sent to South America has returned?”
Duncan was on the 93rd floor of Weyland Tower. This level was completely sealed off; the elevators didn’t even stop here. It was the Queen’s egg-laying chamber.
With his own hands, Duncan placed a Facehugger onto Deathstrike’s face, successfully taking control of this mutant, whose combat prowess exceeded even that of Wolverine.
He attempted to use the Xenomorph embryo’s consciousness to probe Deathstrike’s mind—only to discover that her mental state was utterly hollow, filled with nothing but absolute obedience.
As a result, the Xenomorph embryo, which should have remained dormant inside her, had to stay fully conscious at all times in order to pilot her body.
“Well, that works too. The combat instincts of a Xenomorph aren’t inferior to Deathstrike’s own self-awareness. Combined with her beta-grade Adamantium skeleton and insane regeneration, she can use her corrosive blood offensively without hesitation.”
Duncan was highly satisfied. He admired Deathstrike in her current state—just as he did the Sentry.
But in terms of sheer battle instinct, Deathstrike far surpassed the Sentry. She knew no fear, no hesitation—she was a true killing machine, perfectly suited to be Duncan’s right hand.
As for allowing the embryo to burst from her chest, fully transforming her into a Xenomorph? Duncan had considered it—but quickly dismissed the idea.
Because once the Xenomorph emerged, it would lose the beta-grade Adamantium skeleton.
This special skeletal structure possessed self-repair capabilities. Even if it were shattered by a Skyfather-level or higher force, it could gradually regenerate. It was the result of a unique fusion between Adamantium and Deathstrike’s extraordinary healing factor.
With beta-grade bones, Duncan wouldn’t hesitate to have Deathstrike tank a nuclear explosion head-on. Her skeleton would maintain her body’s basic framework, protecting her brain. As long as she wasn’t completely annihilated, her regeneration would eventually restore her to full strength.
But without that skeleton? Forget it. A flesh-and-blood body wouldn’t stand a chance against a nuclear blast—it would be vaporized instantly, leaving no opportunity for regeneration.
Duncan looked at the cold, expressionless woman before him and nodded in satisfaction. As for the other captured mutants, the Xenomorphs would take care of their implantation—none were worthy of his personal attention.
Now, standing at the window, Duncan exuded a sense of absolute control. To his left stood the Sentry. To his right, Deathstrike. Together, they gazed out at the cityscape.
And then—
A colossal, rectangular spaceship appeared in the sky, its surface adorned with intricate golden patterns.
Several figures in blue bodysuits emerged from the ship, floating in the air, locking eyes with Duncan from a distance.
“Ajak… Gilgamesh… and Sersi, who can manipulate matter… Kingo, the long-range shooter… Sprite, the illusionist trickster… Thena, the battle-crazed warrior… Phastos, the master of energy-forged weapons…
“Oh? And leading them is none other than Druig—the one who seized control of my Xenomorph…”
Without realizing it, Professor X’s face grew even paler. He could hardly believe it himself—such blatant political maneuvering was coming from his own mouth, and worse, he was actually putting it into action.
Magneto looked at him approvingly. “You’ve finally woken up, Charles. If you lacked even this level of awareness, we might as well give up on independence, surrender to humanity, and wait for our extinction.”
“What should we do then? Just let Duncan parasitize those mutants?” Jean’s voice was cold.
Magneto cast a wary glance at Jean, deeply cautious of this fellow mutant with overwhelming potential. He replied, “If not parasitism, then what? Don’t forget, those mutants have been brainwashed by Stryker countless times. They’ve been turned into weapons without self-awareness. At least by letting Duncan take them in, he can place them in appropriate positions and keep them under strong control. He won’t allow them to run amok.”
“It seems that after Duncan captured you, he put you in an appropriate position as well—otherwise, you’d be running amok right now,” Jean Grey said, her words carrying a subtle sting. An invisible psychic force emanated from her as she spoke.
A flicker of anger flashed through Magneto’s eyes, but before he could act, Professor X gently shook his head to signal restraint. He then turned to Jean with concern. “We need to have a proper talk.”
“About what?”
“You are an irreplaceable member of our group. Right now, our priority is to find a way to unlock your latent power and help you control it.”
Jean remained silent for a moment, then nodded lightly, with her primary personality still in control.
At that moment, fate’s trajectory shifted once again, veering toward a path none of them had foreseen.
Duncan had anticipated some changes in destiny. He also knew that, sooner or later, Professor X and Magneto would head to the living island Krakoa to establish their own mutant nation.
But this particular deviation was something even he hadn’t expected.
“They didn’t follow me? So that was their plan—a reminder, but also a warning.”
Through the embryo inside Magneto, Duncan understood Professor X’s message. Cherish them? The best way to cherish these mutants, who had lost their self-will, was to make full use of them.
Otherwise, even if he left them behind for Professor X and the others, there was no guarantee that they would ever regain their consciousness.
In any case, Duncan had no intention of compromising. What he had obtained through strength, he would never return to Professor X.
“Charles is a respectable man. If someone like him is going to back down, it will only be for the sake of some grand cause,” Duncan mused. Across countless realities, whenever two opposing sides had merged, the result had always been bloodshed and tragedy. As mutant leaders, Charles and Erik had taken countless mutant lives with their own hands.
But that had nothing to do with Duncan. He had no interest in meddling in mutant affairs—his only concern was claiming his spoils of war.
However, when Duncan returned to the Weyland Building with his army and had barely begun to regroup—
“…Hmm? The Xenomorph I sent to South America has returned.”
Duncan was on the 93rd floor of the Weyland Building, a sealed level where the elevator didn’t stop. This was the Queen’s egg-laying chamber.
With his own hands, he placed a Facehugger onto Deathstrike’s face, successfully bringing this formidable mutant—whose combat abilities surpassed even Wolverine—under his control.
He attempted to use the consciousness of the Xenomorph embryo inside her to probe her mind, only to find it utterly hollow, devoid of anything but absolute submission.
As a result, the Xenomorph embryo, which would normally remain dormant, had to stay awake to pilot Deathstrike’s body.
“Well, that works too. The Xenomorph’s combat instincts aren’t inferior to Deathstrike’s self-awareness. Combined with her Beta-Admantium skeleton and powerful regeneration, she can freely use her acidic blood as a weapon.”
Duncan was highly satisfied. He admired the current Deathstrike—she was a unique creation, much like the Sentrys.
But in terms of sheer battle readiness, Deathstrike far surpassed the Sentrys. She knew no fear, no hesitation—she was a true killing machine, the perfect right hand for Duncan.
As for allowing the embryo to burst from her chest and fully develop into a Xenomorph, Duncan had considered it but ultimately dismissed the idea. If that happened, the new Xenomorph would lose its Beta-Admantium skeleton.
This particular skeleton was remarkable—it possessed regenerative capabilities. Even if shattered by a Skyfather-level being or something stronger, it could slowly heal over time. It was a fusion of Adamantium and Deathstrike’s unique healing genes, resulting in an extraordinary material.
With Beta-Admantium, Duncan wouldn’t hesitate to send Deathstrike head-on against a nuclear explosion. The skeleton ensured that her body’s framework remained intact, safeguarding her brain. As long as she wasn’t utterly annihilated, her healing factor would always restore her.
Without Beta-Admantium, however, surviving a nuclear blast would be impossible—her body would be vaporized instantly, leaving no chance for regeneration.
Duncan looked at the cold, emotionless woman before him and nodded in satisfaction. As for the other mutants, they were left to the Xenomorphs for parasitization—none were worth his personal attention.
Now, Duncan stood calmly by the window. The Sentry was to his left, Deathstrike to his right, as he gazed outward.
In the next instant, an enormous rectangular spaceship appeared in the sky, its surface engraved with intricate golden patterns.
Several figures in blue bodysuits flew out of the ship, locking eyes with Duncan from a distance.
“Ajak, Gilgamesh, and—oh, look—Sersi, who can restructure matter. Kingo, with his long-range energy blasts. Sprite, the illusionist. Thena, the erratic warrior. Phastos, the craftsman of energy-based weapons… And leading them is Druig, the one who has taken control of my Xenomorphs.”
