The vampires were having a terrible night.
Under normal circumstances, every major organization around the world had taken part in anti-vampire operations at one time or another. The vampires knew their place in the food chain and usually kept a low profile.
Perhaps it was Deacon Frost... the one who tried to become a "blood god" only to be killed by Blade... that drew too much attention. Whatever the reason, the vampires had once again landed firmly in everyone's crosshairs.
No matter how hard they racked their brains, they couldn't figure out why, of all the organizations on the planet, that bastard Adam had chosen to target them.
---
Nighttime New York was a place where glamour and crime tangled together in the shadows.
In quiet back alleys, eerie black figures darted silently and swiftly through the darkness.
An occasional drunk stumbling around looking for a place to relieve himself would rub his eyes, convinced he was seeing things.
Ordinary people were ignored. The vampires had nowhere to hide.
Bang!
A door was violently ripped open. Xenomorphs poured inside, launching brutal purges on one vampire stronghold after another.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
"These aren't daywalkers! What the hell are they?!"
"Xenomorphs! These things are Xenomorphs... run!"
"Run my ass! Do you know how much these things are worth on the black market? They're going for tens of millions of dollars each!"
"Get them! Catch just one and we can retire!"
Chaos erupted. Most vampires turned tail and fled. A few stared at the Xenomorphs with fanatical greed, drawing weapons in hopes of capturing one.
Gunfire rattled through the air... pistols, automatic rifles.
"Idiots, watch your fire! If you kill them, the bodies are worthless!"
"Huh, these Xenomorphs are weird. They're not killing the ones who run. They're just cutting off limbs…"
Some of the stronger vampires grinned savagely, tossing aside their guns. They relied on their superior physiques to take on the creatures hand-to-hand.
News of the Xenomorphs had already spread across the world. Any organization with real influence knew they existed. The fact that the ones appearing now showed no hostility only fueled the vampires' frenzy.
But dreams, no matter how grand, still require strength to back them up.
In the face of the cold, mechanical Xenomorph strike teams, the complex urban environment quickly turned into a bloody slaughterhouse.
The creatures moved like nightmarish ghosts, appearing and disappearing at will. Their coordination was flawless. From the very start, without any visible communication, they executed tactics as precise as if they had run them through a computer simulation dozens of times.
True, Xenomorphs weren't invincible. Conventional firearms could injure ordinary ones. But those losses were entirely acceptable.
Keep in mind, the vampires were using standard 21st-century Earth guns... not the advanced future weapons from movies or comics.
One vampire shouldered a rocket launcher, aiming at a Xenomorph cutting through the crowd.
The next second, both his arms were severed by a blade.
"You're making this difficult for me. Too many dead vampires and I won't be able to deliver."
Elektra landed lightly on the ground. None of the Xenomorphs attacked her.
Several vampires immediately swung their guns in her direction and opened fire.
Clang-clang-clang!
With a single blade, Elektra unleashed a storm of slashes, precisely deflecting every bullet... an undeniable display of superhuman skill.
"Damn it, who the hell is she? Why aren't the Xenomorphs attacking her?!"
Screams, curses, and desperate pleas filled the air as the vampires fell like wheat before a scythe. The red blood that sustained them sprayed out in fountains, painting the scene in macabre beauty.
Elektra showed no mercy. She had never liked these parasites. She led the Xenomorphs in repeated sweeps.
Even more remarkably, the vast majority of the vampires attacked by the Xenomorphs survived.
The creatures severed their tongues, then carried them off like cargo... some skewered on tails like gruesome kebabs, others clutched by their collars in groups and hauled away.
Long crimson trails of blood stretched across New York.
Countless eyes watched the spectacle in silence.
"Another stronghold wiped out. I took a look... mostly severed limbs. A couple of unlucky bastards left as corpses. Tsk."
"Who's that woman? She's ridiculously strong. A mutant? One who's thrown in with Adam?"
"Hm. So it looks like Xenomorphs can only parasitize living hosts. That's important intel. Next we need to figure out how they grow inside a body, whether they can be surgically removed, and if a superhuman with rapid healing can survive after one bursts out of their chest…"
Normal humans had zero sympathy for vampires. These things were parasites on humanity.
Seeing the vampires now facing an even more terrifying group... and the prospect of being parasitized themselves... left everyone who witnessed it with a strange, absurd feeling.
After all, they were worthless vampires. Who cared how many died? Still, was Adam really operating this openly now? No restraint at all, not even bothering to keep up appearances?
"I remember Blonsky got parasitized, right? Then he died. He had Hulk-level strength and powerful regeneration, but he still died."
"Maybe Blonsky was killed afterward. It doesn't necessarily mean super-healing doesn't work."
In a world where superhumans were no longer rare, plenty of sharp minds were already making logical deductions about the Xenomorphs' traits.
A species that could gain a host's power through parasitism... and potentially surpass them... held an irresistible allure. For some ambitious individuals, the implications were unprecedented.
Who would have imagined such creatures existed? Now they did.
So what was the upper limit of their abilities?
And where did they come from? Were they really something Adam created himself?
---
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.
Nick Fury faced five screens displaying the most powerful people in the human world.
"Nick Fury, you've done excellent work."
The five offered glowing praise for the director.
One of them said, "Those two-hundred-million-dollar invoices you submitted earlier had us thinking you were joking. A random young man and his toys, and you wanted two hundred million to deal with him? We suspected you were padding expenses."
Another picked up smoothly. "But the facts prove you're still the best agent in the world, with the sharpest instincts! That man is worth every penny!"
"So, Fury, when are you bringing him into S.H.I.E.L.D.? Or are we waiting until he's killed every vampire on the planet?"
"Wiping them all out isn't realistic. What we want to know is the Xenomorphs' reproduction rate. How do they breed? What's their social structure? Is there a queen-like role dedicated to reproduction? Can we control them the same way Adam does?"
"…"
Motherfucker.
How could he have predicted that in such a short time, Adam's "simple" actions would send shockwaves across the world?
He certainly hadn't expected the Xenomorphs to possess such terrifying racial abilities and growth potential, along with this unheard-of, insanely effective method of expansion…
At this moment, Fury displayed the professional poise of a master spy. His expression remained calm and confident, as if he had foreseen everything. He spoke steadily, "It's nothing. Just doing my job. However, to move to the next phase of operations against him, I'll need more funding."
...
After the meeting ended,
"Dugan, give me the latest update."
Fury summoned his subordinates and began issuing orders.
"I successfully infiltrated Kamar-Taj…"
"Not that," Fury cut him off. "Besides, it was one of your lucky clone bodies that got into Kamar-Taj. That's not your success. And I strongly suspect your so-called 'infiltration' was orchestrated by the Sorcerer Supreme herself."
Dugan shook his head vigorously. "At least it proves my talent was recognized by the Sorcerer Supreme, right?"
"You sure about that? Why did you fail for years, unable to even find the door to Kamar-Taj, but now you keep succeeding? You go in every few days. You don't honestly believe she doesn't know who you are, do you? If that's the case, I'd have to question her competence. Or maybe a centuries-old guardian of Earth is suddenly dying and has a change of heart, deciding to take on students left and right?"
"Maybe I awakened a magical affinity gene or something."
"You should go dunk your head in the icy waters of the Himalayas. We haven't cracked the secrets of magic yet, but there's probably no such thing as 'affinity.' You don't need to absorb wind or earth elements from the air into your body."
"Boss, the fact that we haven't cracked it only means one thing... not enough money! Approve a bigger budget and I'll handle it. With enough funding, I could even ask the Sorcerer Supreme directly."
Fury stared coldly at this version of Dugan. He was certain this one, who knew nothing about certain sensitive information, wasn't the Level 10 original. Which meant the real Dugan had ditched work again.
Had the original actually joined Kamar-Taj to study magic under the Ancient One? If so, Fury wouldn't feel relieved or impressed by his subordinate's talent. He'd just think the man had lost his mind and it might be better to eliminate him.
A Level 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with global responsibilities, wasting time learning magic? In Fury's eyes, that was idiotic.
Kamar-Taj's strength lay in the Ancient One and her direct disciples, in their endless supply of powerful spells and artifacts, in their vast network of mystical intelligence and global ley-line nodes... not in cheap apprentice mages!
Over the years, how many sorcerers had learned a bit of magic at Kamar-Taj only to return to normal society? And how many of those who left actually mastered anything worth teaching or inherited artifacts they could wield effectively?
S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't lack sorcerers!
If they wanted to recruit, they could pull in plenty from around the world... though some would undoubtedly be black magicians with hidden agendas and tight organizations.
The only reason Fury might accept would be if Dugan were a once-in-a-century magical prodigy worthy of the Sorcerer Supreme personally taking him under her wing for hands-on training.
Fury would sooner believe Adam would announce tomorrow that he had developed a miracle cure for mutants... the same claim Adam made when applying for government subsidies to found Weyland Corporation.
Dugan was the same as always: all he did was ask for money, swallowing up who knew how much funding every year. It was enough to make anyone's head hurt.
Of the two hundred million they had squeezed from the big powers earlier, a full third had already disappeared into Dugan's projects!
"Dugan, my patience has limits. Next time I ask, you'd better have a genuinely valuable answer. Every year you're busy spending a fortune... what exactly have you accomplished?"
"Understood, boss. I'll call a brain-cloud meeting with the other clones."
Dugan's expression grew serious. He paused, then added, "On Adam's side, I've made some discoveries. Rough calculations put the Xenomorph egg-laying rate at no more than five new ones per day! He's captured a lot of vampires... not all for parasitization. He needs to keep some as food reserves…"
No one in the room batted an eye. They had seen far crazier things... cultists sacrificing people to cosmic demons or hell lords. Adam's actions were small potatoes by comparison. Besides, vampires weren't really people. They were allowed to hunt humans, but humans couldn't hunt them?
"Adam's current total force shouldn't exceed twenty individuals," Dugan reported.
Fury glanced at him. "The fact that he let you calculate that much means your numbers are exactly what he wants you to know. I don't believe Adam would expose his real strength so openly."
"Maybe the Xenomorphs have a higher reproduction rate. We still haven't found any juveniles or eggs, so we don't know how long their growth cycle can last. Adam's been extremely cautious. He's never sent Xenomorphs out carrying eggs. He'd rather go through the trouble of crippling the vampires and dragging them back."
In other words, Adam likely still had a stockpile of unhatched eggs or unimplanted facehuggers ready for a critical moment?
"Plant listening devices on vampires who might be Adam's next targets," Fury ordered. "We need to be ready to move at any time. We cannot allow an uncontrolled force like this to keep growing."
A dozen or so Xenomorphs... excluding the one born from Abomination... weren't too difficult to handle. Heavy weaponry could deal with them.
But if their numbers increased, it would become a disaster. S.H.I.E.L.D. could not tolerate an uncontrolled power... or species... operating outside their oversight.
This wasn't about Fury's or any agent's personal morality or ambition. It was simply S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mandate. They had to act this way.
Failing to think and operate like this would mean they lacked even basic professional standards.
"We've got trouble," Dugan's face suddenly changed. He tapped the side of his head.
"I already know," Fury said, his expression darkening. "A T0-level threat just flew into the New York suburbs carrying several metal crates."
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