How strong was Adam? Truthfully, no one on Earth, or in the cosmos, could offer a precise measure.
Even those who'd watched him closely, witnessing his rise from the start, likely couldn't gauge him now.
Just two years ago, Adam was merely a promising young man, securing a derelict building from Stryker to serve as a biological research lab.
Then he created the Xenomorphs.
Today, one foe after another had fallen at his feet, their bodies, flesh, and finest genetic lineages claimed as his own.
Adam had amassed immense power. Gods and god-kin alike crumbled before his advance, reduced to mere stepping stones for his throne.
When Adam, for the first time, unveiled his true might before the world, dispersing his consciousness across numerous Xenomorphs, only then did people glimpse the terror of his full force.
In the Weyland Tower, Adam's true body sat, eyes gently closed, a trace of fatigue on his face.
"Scattering my soul across so many entities is taxing." He murmured. "But it's worth it if it works."
He lifted his head, eyes glinting with piercing cold.
Beside him stood Deathlok, his ever-present bodyguard, silently vigilant. Even a Skyfather-tier foe's sudden assault would meet Deathlok's formidable resistance, buying Adam precious time.
Facing Knull, the God of Symbiotes, Adam finally revealed a fraction of his amassed power.
Across the globe, figures launched skyward, savagely carving through symbiote hordes, rocketing into the heavens.
Only Xenomorphs of Skyfather-tier or higher, handpicked by Adam, could host his astral projection.
Reynolds and the Hyperion Xenomorph breached Earth's atmosphere, entering the cosmic vacuum. Like Superman, they smashed through symbiote barriers, standing defiantly before Knull.
"My body hasn't changed." Jane Foster lamented, battling symbiotes with fervor. "Am I unworthy?"
Her divine-powered frame felt sluggish, numb. Despite slaying countless symbiotes, her spirits sank. Adam hadn't chosen her body, and the realization stung.
"This isn't some supreme honor." Adam's voice soothed, sensing her pain. "Your exclusion isn't a failing. Your time will come."
What was this bizarre rivalry among his Xenomorph heroes?
Were they vying to offer their bodies, fearing his disfavor?
Foster's anguish, though poignant, was understandable.
Far off in Japan, Skurge felt equally slighted.
The two-meter "diminutive" giant faithfully executed Adam's orders, mercilessly butchering Hand ninjas.
No offer, threats, pleas, or bribes, from the Hand's leaders, the Five Fingers, swayed him. Without Adam's command to cease, Skurge would see his mission through.
The ninjas were driven to madness, their numbers dwindling as the Hand collapsed under Skurge's relentless onslaught, leaving them reeling, wondering when it would end.
Yet Skurge, sensing no shift in his body, no external consciousness seizing his robust frame, felt deeply aggrieved.
"I've worked so hard." He muttered. "Am I still unworthy of Adam's possession? My strength isn't lacking!"
His mood soured.
In truth, this Asgardian-Jotunn hybrid, capable of rivaling Thor in other universes, where he was Thor's nemesis, didn't impress Adam. At best, Skurge was sub-Skyfather, a tier below what Adam needed for this battle against Knull.
Adam's response clarified his stance, spurring Skurge to greater ferocity. His mixed heritage had bred a lifetime of torment, forging an extreme drive to hone his divine power.
"Next time, he'll choose me." Skurge roared, clutching twin M16s, redoubling his hunt for Hand ninjas. "My mighty body will draw him."
Rumors reached him: the Hand's true master was a demon from Hell.
Skurge's face twisted into a terrifying grin. Hellish demons meant nothing to him, if it could bleed, it could die, and he'd kill it thoroughly.
As Adam acted, several figures soared into Earth's outer orbit, each radiating immense power.
Reasonably, Knull thought, at his peak, a single slap would obliterate these foes, every last one.
But now, constrained to a makeshift body of countless symbiotes, he faced Adam, an anomaly.
This form sufficed for ordinary planetary life, but against Adam, it faltered.
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"You've scattered your consciousness across so many entities? You're a madman, forsaking your self. Is every Xenomorph essentially you?" Knull's voice dripped with malice.
Even he had never attempted such a feat, nor conceived it. At his zenith, he was too mighty, despite defeats and flights from Celestial ambushes, he never pinned his hopes on his symbiote creations.
Rather than banking on symbiotes for a comeback, Knull trusted the artifact he drew from the abyss upon waking: the Necrosword, the primal symbiote from which all others derived.
Regrettably, he had yet to reclaim it, lacking the time and means.
"Many say we're alike." Reynolds spoke, but it was Adam. "I'm telling you, we're worlds apart. I'm far more unique, far greater. Your only edge is being born earlier, spawned in the universe's primal darkness. You are darkness, and beyond that, you're nothing."
Adam's tone was icy. "With your starting point, I'd have you scampering like a monkey, you know what a monkey is, right? Ask Loki. You've been frozen too long, out of touch with the cosmos. A pitiful god."
The Hyperion Xenomorph spread its arms. "Each chosen Xenomorph is me, yet I'm not any single Xenomorph. I am their entirety, their collective sum. That's where I surpass you. To you, symbiotes are mere tools. I wield every Xenomorph as an extension of myself."
Knull fell silent, then unleashed a chilling laugh. "Words are meaningless. Survival proves rightness, the simplest, purest truth, binding even gods."
Adam nodded, striking first. He never squandered an opportunity.
The Laufey Xenomorph, Reynolds, and the Hyperion Xenomorph, three Skyfather-tier powerhouses, unleashed their might. Divine power surged, rending spacetime. Under Adam's direct control, billions of afterimages erupted, each Xenomorph wringing every cell's energy, overloading for a relentless assault.
Earth quaked, as if on the brink of detonation.
In distant stars, colossal energy particles, moving faster than light, ravaged all, observed by countless worlds.
Beyond the Yggdrasil's reach, far-flung star domains registered Earth's upheaval.
"It's begun." Odin mused, clutching Gungnir, poised to act. "This is Adam's full strength… No, knowing him, he's holding back. Unleashing everything in one battle isn't his way."
Odin monitored the clash closely, ready to intervene only if absolutely necessary. His aged body, too frail for the Odinforce's full weight, bore the scars of past glory, a cruel cycle of repayment. One more great battle, and he'd perish.
If he had a choice, he'd abstain, biding time until Thor matured to inherit the Odinforce, becoming a top-tier Skyfather to guard the Yggdrasil and Asgard.
Odin gazed at Midgard with complex emotions.
Midgard encompassed not just the solar system but numerous neighboring galaxies.
Under Adam's onslaught, the entire Midgard realm resonated fiercely.
Deploying multiple Skyfather-tier units to counter a foe was a feat that awed even Odin.
Earth already boasted the Ancient One, yet in a mere nap of Odin's multimillion-year life, Adam had risen.
His bizarre method, growing stronger with each spawned Xenomorph, absorbing every defeated foe's essence, was unprecedented.
"I thought you'd intervene." The Ancient One's consciousness reached Odin. "Your prized heir fights for Adam on Earth."
Odin, once unfamiliar with the mystic mage, had grown acquainted through Thor's Earth exile and their exchanges.
"This doesn't warrant my all." Odin retorted. "This symbiote god isn't at full strength. If he were a true cosmic deity, I'd relish the fight, like against the Celestials long ago." He turned the question back. "You, though, Earth's in chaos. Your mages fight desperately, yet you're nowhere to be seen."
The Ancient One's mental presence was serene, unruffled, as was her wont.
Most universes' Ancient Ones acted thus, tending only their duties, indifferent to matters beyond their purview.
Take the Black Strange, who split himself. White Strange remained the righteous Sorcerer Supreme, while Black Strange pursued power, collapsing his universe into a horrific singularity. That universe's Ancient One only appeared to chastise Black Strange after the catastrophe, never intervening despite choosing Strange as her heir.
The Ancient One was Sorcerer Supreme, not Earth's or the cosmos' nursemaid.
Backed by Eternity or the Vishanti, every Ancient One sought magic's path, chasing the unknown's endless frontier.
"Any other time, I'd have acted." She replied. "But not now. Per my agreement with Adam, I have a better offensive approach than direct intervention."
Her consciousness brimmed with certainty, observing Adam and Knull's cataclysmic clash.
Billions of energy particles scattered through the vacuum, triggering countless spacetime tremors, accompanied by the annihilation of endless symbiotes.
Under Adam's all-out assault, Knull's colossal symbiote form withered at an astonishing rate, shredded and decomposed second by second.
No matter how Knull roared, straining his powerful consciousness to bolster his temporary vessel, he remained limited. If he were truly mighty, he wouldn't be in this state.
Reynolds and the Hyperion Xenomorph, like Supermen, sliced Knull's body with heat vision.
The Laufey Xenomorph charged head-on, channeling frost divine power to tap the Yggdrasil, invoking its might to reject and suppress Knull.
Knull weakened, his vast symbiote form shrinking rapidly.
"It seems I've won round two." Adam declared, his gaze piercing through his Xenomorphs. "Evil God Knull, your vaunted legacy is worthless before me. The foundation you built over eons will become a nest for mightier Xenomorphs. Even gods are no exception."
The battle neared its end. All symbiotes would soon be Adam's captives.
Yet both Knull and Adam knew this was merely the prelude. When Knull reclaimed his body, the ensuing storm would herald a grand finale.
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