When Namor faced the two Superman Xenomorphs, his expression was grave but unsurprised.
Their presence on the battlefield was expected. True to Adam's nature, he relished deploying freshly chestbursted Xenomorphs to gauge their strength firsthand.
"It seems the Xenomorph from Laufey hasn't fully matured." Namor mused. "For now, only those wielding divine power or magic avoid being prime capture targets."
Exhausted from relentless combat, Namor had discerned the Xenomorphs' behavioral patterns, witnessing their racial traits up close.
Without Adam, he reasoned, this species' starting point was modest. A marginally competent force could've wiped them out before their explosive growth.
But seeing the Attuma Xenomorph plunged Namor into prolonged silence.
From their outward forms, Xenomorphs appeared similar, yet, like recognizing distinct twins, Namor could now identify certain unique individuals.
His heightened senses suggested this new Xenomorph was likely the one birthed from Attuma.
"Unbelievable, Attuma." Namor murmured. "To see you like this at the end of my life, what irony. Those two Eternals you summoned were useless, becoming the very foes that doomed Atlantis." His voice dripped with self-mockery, though he soon questioned what right he had to scorn Attuma.
Surrender was unthinkable. It was clear Adam was resolute in annihilating Atlantis, transforming its entire population into Xenomorphs.
Lacking quality hosts, Adam found Atlanteans, far superior to vampires, delivered to his doorstep. Why refuse such a gift?
The Attuma Xenomorph moved silently, lunging at Namor, its obsidian claws slashing viciously. Namor countered decisively, thrusting his trident.
In their first clash, Namor was stunned. The Xenomorph surpassed the original Attuma in strength, speed, and defensive resilience.
"As the rumors say." Namor breathed, "these creatures with terrifying growth potential absorb the host's finest genes. Given enough time, they outstrip their host. How can such a thing exist?"
He sighed deeply, wielding magic and high-tech gear to fight, momentarily matching the Attuma Xenomorph.
But as time wore on, waves of Xenomorph legions stormed Atlantis, wreaking havoc. Though every Atlantean, man, woman, and child, took up arms, boosting their efficiency in slaying Xenomorphs, the relentless, inexhaustible horde overwhelmed them, swallowing them in a torrential flood.
Atlantis drowned in ceaseless slaughter and despair, screams and wails permeating every drop of seawater.
"This isn't the end." Namor growled. "I have a plan. Trigger the Black Tide, unleash those horrors from the abyssal depths…"
His bloodshot eyes froze mid-thought.
Hyperion Xenomorph moved, a meteor plummeting from above, parting the ocean to crash into the heart of Atlantis's seabed continent. It burrowed downward, the entire kingdom quaking violently.
And rising.
Hyperion Xenomorph was lifting the entire Atlantean kingdom!
Its piercing screech betrayed the immense effort, Xenomorphs rarely vocalized without purpose.
As the vast continent ascended, Atlanteans in submersibles bombarded Hyperion Xenomorph with magic and energy blasts, yet failed to inflict the slightest harm.
Soon, they could no longer focus on the continent's fate. Swarms of Xenomorphs crippled them, binding their bodies, making death an unattainable mercy.
Namor stared, dumbfounded, as Hyperion Xenomorph heaved the seabed continent, hurling it into the exposed chasm below.
Instantly, a cataclysmic earthquake erupted, torrents of seawater surging in all directions, a force sufficient to eradicate the last Atlanteans.
Atlantis was finished.
Despair etched Namor's face. He hadn't foreseen the 20,000-year-old race ending under his reign as Sea King, extinguished in the modern era by an outsider.
A host of Xenomorphs, radiating formidable auras, descended upon Namor, engulfing the defiant Sea King entirely.
---
"History is strikingly similar." Adam remarked, distantly sensing the oceanic carnage, shaking his head slightly. "Hyperion Xenomorph lifted all of Atlantis and smashed it to bits. A bit wasteful, there were survivors left to capture as hosts, now all gone."
In a parallel universe, a deranged Hyperion similarly hoisted Atlantis and obliterated it.
"Boss, we've detected numerous bizarre creatures in the ocean, fish-like, with dark skin." A subordinate reported.
"No concern." Adam replied. "Those are Deep Sea Fishmen, one of Atlantis's ancient foes. With Atlantis gone, we'll assume their duty. Dispatch a force to suppress these vermin, a fine way to bolster our ranks."
Adam dismissed the Fishmen. A group incapable of defeating Atlantis stood no chance against Xenomorphs; their fate was sealed.
This war sent shockwaves worldwide.
Those with access to information, witnessing the ceaseless Xenomorph legions blanketing the oceans, dense, unending, felt an instinctive chill.
Imagining facing such a fearless, unkillable army was a vision too brutal.
"What's the Sorcerer Supreme doing?" A voice demanded. "Just watching the mortal world descend into chaos, doing nothing?"
"The Sorcerer Supreme isn't your nanny." A voice countered. "She follows her own code. Perhaps she sees this as no threat to Earth. Following that logic, it suggests one thing: a far greater enemy has emerged, prompting Adam to adopt such aggressive measures to rapidly expand his forces."
The world never lacked sharp minds. By listing every possibility and eliminating them one by one, they could arrive at this conclusion.
But who could it be? What foe drove Adam to spark a global oceanic war, annihilating an entire race?
What enemy warranted such caution from Adam?
No one knew, but it likely wasn't terrestrial, perhaps extraterrestrial or extradimensional.
Adam, however, knew exactly.
He recalled the invasion of Earth by Knull in Universe 616.
Knull alone brought three Celestials, each parasitized by carefully selected symbiotes, enabling him to dominate them utterly.
Dispatching merely a fraction of his symbiote army, Knull enveloped Earth, sealing it in an impenetrable cocoon, blotting out all sunlight.
Adam reckoned that even if this universe's Knull paled against his 616 counterpart and hadn't regained peak strength, a detachment of symbiotes from Klyntar would overwhelm Earth.
Unlike the battle against Dormammu, this was a clash of numbers. Even the Ancient One couldn't weave spell arrays across every remote corner of Earth or the solar system, sealing every gap. Impossible.
Against a vast enemy, one either obliterated the planet and its legions in a single blow, clearing fodder swiftly, or slogged through a grueling war of attrition.
During the Civil War event, heroes like Captain Marvel and Hyperion, stranded beyond Earth by Hydra's Captain America, faced endless Chitauri swarms, eventually succumbing to exhaustion and death.
Adam was fully prepared. Now, it was Loki's move.
And… how much of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hidden projects would Fury unveil?
"This war must drain S.H.I.E.L.D. entirely." Adam resolved. "Then the organization can exit human history. In countless parallel universes, S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolves, replaced by motley groups, a common fate."
Adam was determined to give S.H.I.E.L.D. no further chances.
With a Xenomorph legion exceeding 400,000 and growing exponentially, future expansion would only accelerate.
No one could face that without dread.
As Atlantis's chief rival, Wakanda descended into turmoil.
Monitoring the war's progress, they watched their long-time foe, Atlantis, obliterated by Xenomorphs with ruthless efficiency, heedless of cost or loss. Too terrifying.
Undoubtedly, this war further swelled Adam's power.
"The sheer numbers alone leave us helpless." Prince T'Challa said grimly, under immense pressure.
King T'Chaka sat on his throne, his face etched with solemnity.
Wakanda was no obscure nation, nor a backdrop risen without cause. The first Black Panther drew power from the legendary Panther God, a legacy passed down through generations.
During World War II, the Red Skull invaded Wakanda, seeking to plunder Vibranium.
Now, a ferocious outsider had emerged, crushing Atlantis in both quality and quantity, annihilating its people.
Their ancient enemy met a fate worse than death, leaving Wakanda trembling, fearing Adam might learn of them from Atlantean captives and turn his forces their way.
"We've never provoked him or harmed a single Xenomorph." T'Challa said. "Our shield envelops our nation, impossible for Xenomorphs to infiltrate and be mistakenly killed by our people."
Princess Shuri, with an intellect surpassing Tony Stark's, spoke up, her mind outpacing everyone present. "I've analyzed all data on Adam, building a comprehensive psychological model. Simply put, Wakanda, save for Father, likely doesn't register to him. We can't provide quality hosts."
Wakanda's warriors relied on Vibranium mines to climb the tech tree, most wielding advanced technology.
"Should we take comfort in our people's weakness?" T'Challa asked.
"Why not, brother?" Shuri replied. "The world has changed, unrecognizable. We must view this planet anew."
Addressing the tribal elders in the palace, she raised her voice. "Who among you believes they can face that monstrous Xenomorph legion? Soon, their numbers will surge past a million, two million, even tens of millions! Against such a foe, how long will our shield hold? That's assuming only standard Xenomorphs. If Adam's elite lieutenants strike, what do we have to resist?"
They couldn't summon the multiversal Panther God.
Bast, the Panther God, wouldn't care for a single universe's Wakanda. Countless universes perished constantly, Bast wouldn't save each one.
Unless she was mad.
Especially in Adam's universe, an unnumbered backwater ignored by the gods.
Perhaps one day, a formidable figure would emerge here, drawing divine attention and earning this universe a designation.
Wakanda reached a consensus, dispatching Prince T'Challa as an envoy to New York to meet the fearsome man.
With a reputation built on annihilation, cemented in blood and bones, none could face Adam without fear.
Entering the Weyland Tower, T'Challa cautiously surveyed his surroundings. Beyond the Xenomorphs patrolling each floor, it resembled the headquarters of a corporate titan.
The eerie orderliness was chilling, as if the Xenomorphs' ceaseless transport of Atlantean captives to the 93rd floor didn't exist.
"Madness." T'Challa thought. "This man rivals demon gods. Perhaps only hell's devils could outdo his insanity."
Greeting the prince was Gloria, the Weyland Tower's chief secretary and the late Spider-Man's friend.
Had King T'Chaka come himself, Adam might have deigned to meet him. A future Black Panther didn't merit his personal attention.
Gloria offered a professional, polished smile. "I'm afraid I'll have to receive you. Our leadership is occupied with other matters…"
"With what?" T'Challa pressed, his instincts screaming it tied to Adam's military buildup.
"Planning to maintain world peace, of course." Gloria replied courteously, flawless in demeanor, leaving T'Challa bewildered.
World peace? The term clashed jarringly with Adam and his Xenomorphs.
But T'Challa soon learned a cataclysm loomed over the world.
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