A religion that worships Xenomorphs? Well, it sounded reasonable enough. Throughout history, mysterious powers beyond human reach had always sparked wild speculation and unrealistic fantasies among certain groups.
Thompson had been watching coldly at first, irritably thinking they were all idiots. But he soon thought of the recently prominent Weyland Tower.
The mysterious force led by Adam... more accurately, a cluster of mysterious forces... occasionally recruited openly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, do you know who the newly appeared female Thor is? I'll tell you... she was definitely a new recruit brought into Weyland! Of course, we don't expect to compare ourselves to her, but if we can make contact with the Xenomorphs and become one of them, we'll finally escape these frail, worthless bodies!"
The man leading the group, dressed in a black robe, passionately preached his theory to the crowd.
It was ridiculous. Adam himself probably had no idea he had gained such a follower spreading these absurd ideas in the streets.
Religions were popping up now. It made people feel like the end times had arrived.
"For ordinary people like us, this is the end times. Surviving the disasters depends on either luck or the Xenomorphs!!"
The black-robed leader held up two fingers and explained with mock seriousness.
It sounded somewhat logical, though a bit forced.
Thompson looked at the listeners... mostly hopeless cases: drug addicts who had been beaten down by life or hardened gang members with long criminal records.
The important part was that he actually recognized the man giving the speech.
Carl Burbank, a six-foot-three, two-hundred-plus-pound preacher.
Clearly, Burbank had spotted Thompson in the crowd as well and looked straight at him.
"Your eyes are as sharp as ever, Reverend, but I never imagined you'd walk this path and betray your faith."
After the crowd dispersed, Thompson frowned and stared at the burly preacher. "Maybe I shouldn't come to you for confession anymore when I'm feeling restless."
"On the contrary, you should come to me even more. I can help you." Burbank spoke with absolute confidence. His face was impeccably groomed, not a trace of stubble.
"Help me by making me believe in Xenomorphs? You've lost your mind. Why worship an actual living creature that can be killed?"
"Don't say that. Unless you can kill a Xenomorph and show me. With your skills, I believe you could take down an ordinary one. But what about the stronger variants? Have you seen the footage of those two new types? Try killing one of those."
Flash Thompson's expression darkened. He knew exactly what Burbank was referring to.
One was the Dracula-type Xenomorph. There were quite a few of them, often appearing as squad leaders. Many had tried to figure out their origins... what vampire bloodline could be so powerful... only for Adam to quietly deal with them.
The other was the four-meter-tall, white-and-blue-skinned giant Xenomorphs. Those were easy to guess. Their hosts had to come from giant races beyond Earth. After all, Adam sending troops to fight in alien wars wasn't exactly a secret.
"You're not saying anything? Thompson, do you know why I suddenly changed my mind? I watched too many young people overdose and kill themselves with drugs. That's when I realized how fragile humans are... pitifully weak and beyond saving, slaves to base desires! We know something is wrong, yet we can't stop ourselves! Trying to save ourselves is just wishful thinking."
Burbank slowly raised his head, revealing a savage smile. "So I thought long and hard and finally found the best solution: simply give weak-willed people a powerful entity to control them. When being a preacher couldn't save humanity, becoming a Xenomorph could!"
"I refuse. I acknowledge how powerful the Xenomorphs are, but I don't think becoming one of them is the way to solve my problems."
"Even if it could heal the trauma in your mind? Reactivate those shattered nerves inside you?" Burbank said with a low chuckle. At that moment, he looked less like a preacher and more like a serial killer.
Thompson fell silent. He dreamed of escaping the terrible aftereffects the symbiote had left him with. But could he really go to Adam? Being implanted with one of those creatures and leaping into superhuman status... would that truly pull him out of his nightmares?
"Why are you so confident?" Thompson asked quietly. To an outsider, their conversation might have looked like a drug deal.
"Remember the Hand? That infamous ninja organization from Japan. You crossed paths with them back in the last century, right? That group is on its last legs."
Burbank's smile turned cruel. "A Jotunheim native... you know Jotunheim, right? One of the Nine Realms from the old myths... has joined Adam. He's currently leading an assault on the Hand. Can you imagine the chaos? This bald, short giant running halfway across the planet with two M16s, gunning down ninjas! I hear Japan has turned into complete pandemonium. People have spotted what look like symbiote-Xenomorph hybrids there. Adam is clearly testing new weapons."
"So what exactly are you trying to say?"
"The symbiotes that caused you so much pain have now been captured by Adam. He has many powerful people under him, and he's already deploying symbiotes on the battlefield! There are even reports of human hosts carrying symbiotes inside Weyland Tower!"
A fervent light appeared in Burbank's eyes. "How could Adam not know how dangerous the symbiotes' flaws are? Why isn't he worried about his subordinates losing control? It proves one thing... he can completely control every symbiote, just like he commands the loyalty of every Xenomorph! Stop lying to yourself, Thompson. I know how much pain you're in. Why not try a different way of living? It's not like you'd be asked to do anything monstrous."
For the first time, Thompson genuinely hesitated. Honestly, he was tempted. He dreamed of breaking free from the symbiote's influence.
Every quiet night, he fought against the insane impulses in his mind, desperately suppressing his instincts.
As for working for Adam and inevitably having to kill... Thompson didn't see that as a problem. After all, he was a former high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and a symbiote host. Killing was routine for him.
"You've already gotten a Xenomorph?"
"Not yet. But if I can bring someone like you... an outstanding agent... the chances of success will be much higher." As Burbank spoke, he casually ripped off his preacher's robes, revealing a heavily muscled physique.
Whoosh!
A shield suddenly flew in, ricocheting off the alley walls at strange angles and heading straight for Burbank's head.
Burbank ducked and threw a powerful upward punch, knocking the shield away. It quickly returned to its owner through some attractive force.
"Don't listen to him, Thompson. A man with your talents shouldn't be joining someone like Adam."
Steve stepped out from the shadows. Fortunately, he had been fast. If he had arrived any later, Flash Thompson might not even be human anymore.
But the situation still didn't look good.
"Why give up being a perfectly good human to become a Xenomorph? Isn't having your full personality and free will better? Don't tell me you don't know that anyone who chooses to become a Xenomorph can never betray Adam. The slightest hint of such a thought and they get chest-bursted. You'd be Adam's puppet for the rest of your life."
Steve, ever the voice of justice, spoke with conviction and earnest concern.
But when his sense of justice became tied to S.H.I.E.L.D., it took on a different flavor.
Thompson had only been hesitating before. Captain America's appearance actually helped him make up his mind.
"I've decided to seek Adam's help. I'm sick of being tormented by the symbiote! I've done more than enough for S.H.I.E.L.D., but you people have done nothing for me. Now you restart the symbiote program, Adam disrupts it, and suddenly you remember me... this guy whose mind is barely stable... and want to use me as a disposable tool?" Flash Thompson's face darkened.
Steve lowered his head, a flicker of helplessness crossing his features before his expression hardened. "My mission is to bring you back. I won't allow you to join Adam and his people."
"Come on, Captain. Who do you think you are? Or do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. is some amazing organization? You can't do anything. Which major crisis have you actually stepped up and solved?" Thompson's muscles tensed, ready for a fight.
"That's why we're trying to do better now."
"It's too late. If you want to fight, stop wasting words!"
Burbank and Thompson worked together for the first time with perfect coordination. The two men faced the famous Captain America in the narrow alley.
Though on a planetary scale, that "fame" seemed rather laughable.
With Captain America's combat ability, suppressing two ordinary humans shouldn't have been a problem.
The issue was that no one would let them act freely.
Soon, gang members from various factions who heard the commotion rushed over. The moment they saw Captain America, they opened fire without hesitation.
Captain America, who routinely cracked down on crime, had long been a thorn in the side of every gang. They would kill him if given the chance. They knew he was just a super-soldier... not invincible. Ordinary firearms still had a shot at taking him down.
Though Steve was overwhelmingly skilled, skillfully ricocheting his shield to take down wave after wave of attackers.
But the Thompson he had come to capture used the chaos to slip away.
"Mission failed." Steve sighed, standing amid the groaning bodies on the ground. He pressed a finger to his comms device.
"Understood. I was going to send Blade and the others to support you, but it's too late now. The moment I moved, I noticed Xenomorphs mobilizing," Fury replied.
"Looks like I'm being watched. Not great news, but these Xenomorphs haven't launched a direct attack."
Steve kicked the ground, scooped up his shield, and gripped it firmly. He left Hell's Kitchen calmly, scanning his surroundings. He had already spotted scattered Xenomorphs moving nearby.
"These things have already spread to Hell's Kitchen? It won't be long before the entire city is crawling with them. Human society shouldn't have this many non-human creatures intruding."
As Steve walked, he continued speaking to Fury. "I need to complete that Tesseract-related plan you mentioned as soon as possible. This situation can't continue. I suspect I couldn't even beat the Xenomorphs around me right now."
Fury stayed silent. He had pulled up satellite feeds and local surveillance to assess the situation and realized Steve might actually be right.
The nearby Xenomorphs clearly had symbiotes bonded to them... and they appeared to be the unknown vampire variants.
Yes, Dracula-type Xenomorphs equipped with symbiote gear.
Their physical abilities far surpassed Captain America's. Combined with their natural combat physiology, terrifying battle instincts, numerical advantage, and the shape-shifting symbiotes as support, they were formidable.
"Steve, withdraw. No need to waste energy here," Fury said decisively.
Perhaps every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent felt a pang of frustration. There had been a time when they were an unshakable titan in front of Adam. But not anymore. Their proud representative hero struggled against mid-tier Xenomorphs.
"What about Thompson and the others…"
"Can't be helped. I'll hand over all symbiote-related materials to Stark and Banner. They'll make good use of them."
Thompson's defection as an old comrade left Fury silent for several seconds.
Having decided to abandon S.H.I.E.L.D., Thompson followed Burbank all the way to Weyland Tower.
"You'd better tell me... what exactly is your status in this so-called Xenomorph cult of yours?"
The two stood before Weyland Tower. Thompson watched the various Xenomorphs moving silently around them, especially lingering on those with soft, partially liquid bodies. He asked in a low voice.
"I have no status. I only founded this cult less than a day ago. At first I was thinking about scamming some money from young people. They love powerful, cool creatures." Burbank looked at him strangely, wondering why Thompson would ask such a question.
"What? You're joking?"
"I was joking before, but not anymore. Adam values talent highly. He has two incredibly powerful species capable of massively boosting ordinary people... the Xenomorphs and the symbiotes. From what I've seen, there's no genetic conflict between them. People like us, who are skilled at fighting, at least won't get turned away." Burbank dragged the shocked and angry Thompson into the lobby.
Thompson looked at the busy business elites hurrying around and felt slightly reassured. Otherwise, he would have seriously suspected that the shady preacher had tricked him.
Next came a dizzying array of HR procedures: submitting personal information, background checks, file creation. The entire process was incredibly professional and formal, making it feel less like a monster headquarters and more like a legitimate business.
Soon, a dedicated receptionist arrived.
"Carl Burbank, Eugene 'Flash' Thompson. You are rare talents. We're very glad you've chosen to join Weyland Corporation. Trust me, you won't be disappointed."
The moment Gloria appeared, she drew attention and surprised murmurs from those nearby.
"Gloria? Why is she handling this personally? Who are these two guys that she'd come out herself?"
"This just proves Weyland has an extremely comprehensive talent database. I don't know where they get their information, but they can screen applicants incredibly fast."
Anyone with half a brain knew that many people around them were spies from various factions, gathering intelligence. There might even be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents disguised as businessmen from other companies.
Without question, every successful applicant to Weyland would be recorded by these people and the information sent back to their respective organizations for special files.
"It's enviable. The appeal of joining Adam keeps growing. Anyone with even a little ambition is trying to earn his favor."
"What's that? When it was just Xenomorphs, people were already flocking to him. Now they have symbiotes too! Although the symbiote super-soldier program was a famous failure, with Adam in control, if he dares to use them, he must have a way to eliminate their flaws."
People doing business in Weyland Tower usually had solid backgrounds or at least excellent connections and sharp ears for information. They knew many details ordinary people couldn't access.
You needed real skill to even dare enter Weyland Tower.
Joining Weyland and aligning with Adam meant getting a Xenomorph embryo and instantly gaining superhuman status that most people could never achieve in a lifetime. There was even a good chance of extended lifespan... though exactly how much longer remained unknown. No one could give a precise timeframe.
At the very least, as official Weyland employees, they could use ALIEN-type serums to steadily prolong their lives.
According to rumors, ALIEN-1 serum was already considered semi-obsolete inside Weyland Tower. Mr. Sinister had developed a second-generation version with even stronger life-extension effects.
It sounded unbelievable... when had extending lifespan become so simple? But one only needed to look at this world where gods and demon gods kept appearing, along with geniuses like Tony Stark madly advancing technology trees, to realize the universe was vast, full of anomalies, and short lifespans weren't enough to explore the unknown.
A tiny minority knew about the existence of numerous alien races, such as the three major interstellar empires. They understood even more clearly that life-extension technology was essential. It was just that, with humanity's current level of civilization, finding a method for large-scale application was difficult.
But Adam could do it. The substances secreted by his Xenomorphs were the source of longevity drugs.
In the waiting room, the three men were surprised to find someone had arrived before them.
"Taskmaster? You're Taskmaster, right? I've heard of you!" Thompson's expression changed as he spoke. "You're joining Adam too?"
"I don't know you," Taskmaster replied coldly. As someone proficient in every fighting style and weapon in the world, he had no reason to recognize a minor figure like Thompson.
"Looks like another person who could be called a superhero outside…" Burbank's expression grew thoughtful. The more talented people who joined, the more it proved his choice was correct.
Taskmaster clearly had something on his mind. He spoke indifferently, "If we're ranking by strength, everyone here is a superhero. It's no big deal."
Without question, the fact that these three had entered the room meant they had all received approval to join Weyland.
Just as Burbank had said, any one of them dropped into the outside world would qualify as a superhero or supervillain. Each stood at the peak of ordinary humanity, mastering various combat skills and weapons, but their physical limits had permanently capped their potential.
That was in the past. From now on, they would transcend human limits and gain extraordinary power.
The price was that they would never escape Adam's shadow.
Since it couldn't be changed, many simply shifted their thinking. They chose to worship Adam and sacrifice to the Xenomorphs with everything they had. That way, they could cut off all psychological burdens and worries, gaining endless desire and confidence.
"Gloria, handle the onboarding for these three. Keep it simple. We've always been accommodating toward talent. Get their implantation done as quickly as possible. I'll have use for them soon." Adam sent the message to Gloria.
"Boss, are you going to war? Or do you need personnel for a large-scale mission? I'm not trying to pry into your plans. I just want to prepare logistics in advance... transporting large amounts of meat, ensuring pure water supplies, organizing staff…"
"I'm not entirely sure yet. It depends on what our guest is thinking, coming all the way back to Earth from who knows how many tens of thousands of light-years away."
To Adam, gaining a few decent individuals was just a nice side note... a seasoning in daily life. As for nonsense like the Xenomorph Cult, he paid it no mind.
Since the extremist preacher Burbank wanted to do things this way, Adam couldn't be bothered to interfere. He had never liked meddling in his subordinates' personal lives or beliefs anyway.
Compared to that, he had more important matters to attend to.
"Finished? Sometimes I really can't understand why someone like you would run a boring company like this. It's just a way to manage funds."
Mordo, sitting on the sofa opposite Adam, made the comment.
Adam smiled slightly. He knew Mordo's personality and that the remark wasn't meant to be overly rude. "I don't take the company too seriously myself. It's just a convenient front for operating on this planet. If one day I decide to leave Earth, I'll naturally discard this tiresome shell called Weyland."
"Leave? When did you start thinking like that? Does the Sorcerer Supreme know? Oh, right... she definitely knows. She's probably already seen you leaving." Mordo hesitated.
"That doesn't sound like you. I thought you'd be thrilled to drive me off the planet." Adam spoke calmly. He quite enjoyed seeing these people show sides of themselves different from before.
Just months ago, Adam had to tread carefully around someone of Mordo's level. Back then, facing Kaecilius required extreme caution, and dealing with Loki demanded even more meticulous preparation.
But times had changed. Those who couldn't keep up with the era and adapt would be eliminated. Adam had become a major figure in their eyes.
In fact, Mordo believed Earth would be better off not losing someone like Adam. While the man created serious threats in certain areas, even the picky Mordo had to admit that Adam's presence on Earth was genuinely reassuring. When trouble arose, Adam charged forward without hesitation.
No guardian could reject someone like Adam... not even the Sorcerer Supreme, Mordo thought.
"Let's not talk about that, the two of us. If anyone should discuss it, it's me and the Ancient One. For now, let our guest explain why he came to find me… Sorcerer Krugarr, I don't believe we've crossed paths before."
Adam gestured toward the person sitting beside Mordo.
It was a red-skinned, fish-headed humanoid being.
Krugarr, one of the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj. He had since left the order, departed Earth, and joined the Ravagers.
His masterful teleportation magic was surely highly valued by the Ravagers, ensuring he received the best protection at all times... extremely convenient for raiding and plundering.
In certain parallel universes, Krugarr had even become Earth's Sorcerer Supreme.
"I originally thought you would build a powerful force capable of deterring Earth... or even the entire World Tree. Something like Kamar-Taj, capable of teaming up with the Ancient One to repel Dormammu, killing Laufey, and cooperating with Odin's Asgard. You shouldn't be so… low-key."
Krugarr's slender body swayed slightly. His fish-like tail flicked gently against the floor with a soft pat.
"That day will come, and soon. Although I have great patience, I never pass up an opportunity when it appears. No need to worry about me."
Adam spoke with a calm expression. If he wanted, he could indeed build a force comparable to Kamar-Taj, just as Krugarr described.
Kamar-Taj had magical inheritance, allowing members to study sorcery and gain supernatural power.
Other, lesser organizations had their own inheritance methods... some stronger, some weaker.
Adam possessed the Xenomorphs and symbiotes... strictly speaking, these symbiotes were no longer complete symbiotes but another form of Xenomorph. Either one was enough to instantly turn ordinary people into superhumans.
The process was fast and suitable for mass production. It was far superior to joining Kamar-Taj, studying magic for years just to reach beginner level, casting pathetic little fireballs, and shouldering debt.
Krugarr shook his head. Two fin-like organs appeared where his ears would be, fluttering like fans. "In my years with the Ravagers, I've seen many ambitious individuals. You are stronger than them, so you should have even greater ambitions. Do you want to swallow the entire Earth, including Kamar-Taj?"
"If I had an appetite like that, Earth would already be beneath my notice. The universe is so vast, with so many races. Focusing one's gaze solely on Earth would be abnormal." Adam tapped the side of his head.
What was Earth? What were mortal affairs? Adam's vision had already stretched far into the distance, reaching toward the ends of the cosmos.
"My time is valuable, Sorcerer Krugarr. If you've traveled billions of light-years back to Earth and used someone from Kamar-Taj as an intermediary to see me, I assume that if you've come to join me, I would welcome you warmly and grant you a lofty position." Adam's fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk.
"That's an excellent idea, but I also have an interesting proposal."
A strong fervor burned in Krugarr's eyes. "I come from the Ravagers. You probably already know that, but you may not know that our crews are vast and divided into different factions, so we're always short on capable fighters… Since you were willing to send troops to fight for the Asgardians, I wonder if you'd be interested in letting me take a batch of Xenomorphs to other parts of the universe?"
Adam looked enlightened. So that was Krugarr's angle.
Considering how recklessly the Ravagers roamed the galaxy and their high mortality rate, it made perfect sense for them to covet the Xenomorphs... perfect combat weapons.
The "business card" Adam had sent out during the Jotunheim campaign was finally producing results.
^^^
If you'd like to read up to 50 chapters ahead, feel free to visit our patron: pat reon . com/XElenea