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Marvel: Xenomorphs Chapter 52
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 14:47:05 +0000 UTCChapter 52: The Xenomorphs Will Always Be the Friends and Brothers of the Aesir!
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"This time, we've finally captured a prisoner. Let's take it back for interrogation and figure out what this species is really about!"
On a life-bearing planet riddled with craters, the air was thick with bone-chilling cold.
Four Frost Giants had spent considerable effort to cripple a Xenomorph.
In a war-torn world, capturing a Xenomorph without the aid of magic or technology was no easy feat.
Xenomorphs were masters of utilizing complex environments in combat. Each one exhibited terrifying patience and had an uncanny ability to seize fleeting moments to strike. Since the war began, countless unfortunate Frost Giants had fallen victim to their ambushes.
Even when Frost Giants managed to defeat Xenomorphs, capturing them alive was an entirely different challenge. These creatures were simply too ruthless. As long as there was even the slightest chance of victory, they rejected all forms of threats, bribery, or surrender. If they determined that death was inevitable, they would use every last ounce of strength to launch a suicidal charge, preferring to take their enemies down with them in a final explosion of acidic blood.
Over time, the Frost Giants had come to truly understand the sheer madness and terror of this species.
Yet, they were undeniably powerful. In the first days of the war, they managed to maintain a three-to-one casualty ratio against the Frost Giants, killing or capturing hundreds of them.
"Heh, we've figured these bastards out. Their losses are piling up. Ten of them aren't worth even one of us now, and soon, even more will fall. Sooner or later, they won't be able to hold on," one Frost Giant remarked, looking down at the fallen Xenomorph. "With a species this extreme and fanatical, I doubt their numbers are very high."
The more recklessly a species fought, the higher its casualties would be in every conflict. A high death toll meant a lower total population—simple logic.
Besides, if the Xenomorphs on the battlefield were this insane, their "civilians" couldn't possibly be the same, could they?
No way. Absolutely not. No Frost Giant would believe such a thing.
"Idiot. Even if the ratio were twenty-to-one, it would still be a failure for us Frost Giants! We are on the verge of defeating the Aesir and ruling the Nine Realms. How can we afford heavy losses against some nameless species?"
"Enough! All of you, shut up!"
A robed Frost Giant pulled back his hood, sweeping a cold gaze over the others. Clearly, this was someone who wielded divine power and magic. "The higher-ups are paying close attention to these creatures. They want to make them our vassals, so you'd better watch your tongues."
"But these creatures haven't shown the slightest willingness to communicate. If we hadn't confirmed that they possess high intelligence, a structured society, and a strict hierarchy, I would've thought they were nothing more than primitive beasts," the first Frost Giant muttered in frustration.
A moment later, his mouth was frozen shut by a terrifying spell.
"Even primitive creatures can have extraordinary value and qualify to become one of us—let alone the fact that these are anything but primitive!"
The leading Frost Giant maintained a steady output of divine power, ensuring the Xenomorph on the ground remained encased in ice.
It was necessary.
They had long since determined that Xenomorphs had an absurd resistance to extreme temperatures—so much so that even the Frost Giants, with their inherent affinity for cold, were shocked.
Take the bipedal Xenomorphs, for example. According to Frost Giant evaluations, these were only the second-lowest tier in the Xenomorph hierarchy, just one step above the crawling ones.
Yet even these weaker specimens could withstand temperatures of negative 100 degrees Celsius!
And there were stronger ones at the same tier—bigger, more powerful, even surpassing weaker members of the next rank up.
It was terrifying.
Rumors circulated that someone had tried using fire magic on them. The result? It took a staggering 1,800 degrees Celsius just to begin melting the weakest of the second-lowest tier.
This meant Xenomorphs could conduct planetary invasions on most worlds in the universe, suffering only a slight decrease in combat effectiveness under extreme conditions.
No wonder the Frost Giants were interested.
A species that was fanatical, highly disciplined, willing to self-sacrifice, resilient, adaptable, and capable of tactical thinking? Everyone wanted them—even the gods would welcome Xenomorphs as vassals.
And the species clearly had elites. Some were massive, powerful enough to engage Frost Giants in hand-to-hand combat. Even if there were only a few hundred of these warriors, their existence proved that the Xenomorphs had a high potential ceiling.
Several Frost Giants pinned the struggling Xenomorph down.
"Hey! I've got hold of its inner jaw! No need to worry about it killing itself now," one giant exclaimed, prying open the creature's mouth while another restrained its limbs.
Similar scenes were playing out across multiple battlefields.
Everything should have gone smoothly.
Unfortunately, the Frost Giants weren't just dealing with Xenomorphs.
— Whoosh!
From a distance, an arrow shot through the air, felling a Frost Giant.
Above them, a small aircraft soared in, and from its hatch, a heavily armored Thor descended like a thunderbolt, bringing his axe down on another giant.
Dozens of Xenomorphs followed, leaping down from the vessel.
"Damn it! What are the Asgardians doing here?!"
The remaining Frost Giants were thrown into chaos, staring in dismay at the swarm of Xenomorphs surrounding them.
Without Thor and his companions, they might have been able to use their frost magic to freeze the Xenomorphs, kill a few, and then retreat safely.
If they were lucky and avoided encountering any Xenomorph elites, they might have been able to wipe out all of these creatures.
But now? They were doomed.
A horde of Xenomorphs swarmed in.
Thor's blood burned with excitement. Since the war began, he had barely fought at all. He eagerly raised his weapon, ready to charge—only to be tackled and pinned to the ground by a massive Xenomorph before he could swing.
Once the remaining Frost Giants had been rendered unconscious or crippled…
"The war's only been going for a week, but the Xenomorphs have already suffered over 2,700 casualties. If this keeps up, given their reckless disregard for death, they might fight to the last for Asgard!"
Vandal was both awed by their ferocity and deeply troubled by their staggering losses.
Too many had died.
Who knew how their leader would react to this news?
Would he be furious? Would he think the Asgardians were deliberately sending Xenomorphs to their deaths?
It was entirely possible.
Forget the Xenomorph king—Vandal only had to put himself in that position, and his heart ached at the thought. If he commanded such loyal warriors, watching them fight and die with such insanity, he would be devastated.
Thor hesitated as well.
The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt. He scratched his scalp, feeling as though he was growing a brain for the first time.
"I only casually mentioned borrowing troops… I just wanted a small squad. But Duncanr cheerfully lent me an entire legion… and never said a word about how I should lead them…"
Thor looked down at the Xenomorph recovering from its frozen state, its body clearly battered by divine power and magic particles. Guilt welled up inside him.
Typically, Xenomorph squads consisted of 30 to 50 members. The fact that only one remained from this group…
The Asgardians had always admired boldness, courage, and honor in battle.
Now, looking at the Xenomorphs, they realized that every single one of their virtues fit these creatures perfectly—perhaps even too perfectly.
Hell, the Xenomorphs had raised the bar for these qualities, inspiring the Asgardians to fight even harder.
If things went smoothly and they didn't encounter any strong Xenomorphs, they could have easily wiped out these dozens of creatures.
A large number of Xenomorphs charged forward, making Thor's blood boil with excitement. Since the battle began, he hadn't had much chance to fight, so he eagerly swung his weapon to join the fray. However, just as he moved, a strong Xenomorph suddenly pinned him to the ground, rendering him immobile.
Once several Frost Giants had been beaten into a crippled and unconscious state—
"We've only been fighting for just over a week, yet the Xenomorphs have already lost more than 2,700 soldiers. If we keep going, given their fearless nature in battle, I fear they might all die for Asgard!"
Fandral was both astonished by the Xenomorphs' ferocity and reliability and deeply troubled by the staggering casualties.
Too many had died. Who knew how their master would react upon learning of such losses?
Would they be enraged? Would they think the Asgardians were deliberately sending Xenomorphs to their deaths?
It was highly possible. Forget about what the Xenomorph king would think—just putting himself in their shoes, Fandral already felt heartbroken. If he had such capable subordinates who fought so recklessly and fiercely on the battlefield, he would be devastated by their losses.
Thor hesitated as well.
The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt. He scratched it absentmindedly, as if trying to force himself to think.
"I originally just mentioned borrowing some soldiers. I only planned to take a small squad, but Duncan generously lent me an entire legion without a single word about how I should lead them…"
Thor looked down at a Xenomorph lying on the ground. It had recovered from being frozen but was severely injured from divine and magical attacks. He felt a deep sense of guilt.
Normally, a Xenomorph team consisted of thirty to fifty members, but now, this squad had been reduced to just this one survivor.
The Asgardians had always admired boldness, grandeur, and bravery in all forms. Yet now, seeing these Xenomorphs, they realized that every single one of Asgard's noble virtues fit them perfectly—almost too perfectly. In fact, the Xenomorphs had even pushed these qualities to new extremes, inspiring the Asgardians to fight with renewed determination.
Look at them—these alien beings were throwing themselves into battle for your land and your people, fighting fearlessly and sacrificing themselves without hesitation. And you, Asgardian, who claim to embody bravery and heroism—how can you just stand there?
"The casualties are truly staggering," Thor admitted. "Duncan has honored his promise. A few days ago, he sent five thousand fully equipped soldiers. But I can't keep leading them like this. I've decided to take the Xenomorphs back to Asgard to recover, and if possible, withdraw them from this war altogether—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a Xenomorph stepped forward and grabbed his face, shutting him up.
If anyone else had dared to treat Thor like this—even in his weakened state—he would have fought back without hesitation, and the other Asgardians would have immediately drawn their weapons in anger.
Yet, no one reacted negatively. They all thought the Xenomorph's behavior toward Odin's son was certainly bold and rude—but as a reliable and loyal comrade-in-arms, it wasn't a problem at all.
After all, the Three Warriors and Thor had often put their arms around each other and exchanged insults while drinking—this was nothing in comparison.
"Hiss! Hiss!"
The strong Xenomorph shook its head, expressing its refusal.
All eyes turned to Thor.
Thor studied the creature's tone and body language, carefully trying to interpret its meaning.
"I… I think it's saying they absolutely won't withdraw before the war is over. The Xenomorph Expeditionary Force will give everything here—this is Duncan's order…"
"No wonder you're Thor—you managed to understand so much from just two hisses! But are you sure you're not just making this up?"
"Damn it, I said I was just guessing! Guessing!! Xenomorph language studies haven't even started yet—no, actually, we haven't even begun researching it! Our scholars were so inspired they went straight to the battlefield instead of working on language development! Given the context, I'm already doing an incredible job figuring this much out!!" Thor shouted.
It was just like the Flora Colossi of Planet X—those humanoid tree beings who only ever repeated the same phrase. To outsiders, it sounded like they were endlessly introducing themselves.
But when combined with context, expressions, body language, and even subtle spiritual fluctuations, their repeated words could convey countless meanings. Those who had studied their language could understand exactly what they meant.
Right now, research on Xenomorph speech hadn't even begun, and most Asgardians had no way of understanding them.
The group fell silent, staring at the Xenomorph, unsure of what to say.
"But… but still, the death toll is too high. The war has barely started…" Thor stammered.
"If it weren't for the Xenomorphs, Asgardian casualties would be at least double!" someone countered. "And that's just on paper! The Xenomorphs have boosted morale across the entire realm, helping us move past Odin's death. That alone is immeasurable. Without them, our situation would be far worse. If anything, Laufey might have already taken advantage of our weakness, abandoned his border planets, and launched a direct assault on Asgard."
In high-level wars, prolonged conflicts were the norm. Look at the Kree and the Skrulls—two interstellar empires locked in a million-year war, still unable to determine a victor.
And that's despite their vast populations—just the Kree Empire alone had over 30 billion people.
But these were still mortal races. Without high-tech equipment, they would die instantly if exposed to the vacuum of space.
Meanwhile, the divine beings of Yggdrasil were far stronger but had a much smaller population. Their wars wouldn't last a million years, but expecting a world war to end in just a few days was unrealistic.
Unless a Skyfather-level entity stepped in from the very beginning and completely annihilated the opposing side with overwhelming power.
But right now, Odin was officially dead, and Laufey, unsure of the truth, wasn't willing to make a move. So, the war had to continue.
The more the Asgardians saw the Xenomorphs' bravery and sacrifices, the more inspired—and ashamed—they felt.
"Back home, public opinion is growing more divided. Many of our people are openly outraged—they're demanding to know why the Vanir, our own distant kin, didn't send troops immediately, while a race from Midgard has already sacrificed so much of their blood and lives for us…" Fandral murmured to Thor.
Thor said nothing. He boarded the ship with the remaining Xenomorphs.
He was truly in a difficult position. The Xenomorphs were too useful, and they greatly aided Asgard. But at this rate, they were being sent to slaughter.
These soldiers had been borrowed—but if they all died, what would he return?
Duncan had trusted him completely, not even assigning one of his own people to oversee the Xenomorphs. He had handed over everything to Thor.
And Thor knew exactly how the Xenomorphs reproduced—after all, he had been a host once himself. That's why he made sure that all captured enemies were handed over to the Xenomorphs.
Just as they boarded the ship, an encrypted transmission came in from the rear.
"Heimdall? Did something happen to the Bifrost? Or is there a major event in the Nine Realms?" Thor asked, his expression serious.
"There is indeed a major event. I thought you should know… Duncan has gathered another army and is calling for me to open the Bifrost."
Even Heimdall, usually cold and indifferent, showed a rare hint of emotion.
Hearing this, Thor felt a rush of warmth surge through his heart, overwhelming him with emotion.
"Duncan, my brother! I never expected that, in my darkest hour, the one willing to help me without hesitation would be you! I swear, Asgard will never forget this!"
From now on, if a single Xenomorph was ever in trouble anywhere in the universe, and an Asgardian knew about it—they would do everything in their power to save them.
This—this was true friendship!
