The Predator Elder knelt there, stunned, as if he'd lost his senses.
After a long moment, he snapped out of it and pounded his chest toward Roy—a gesture Roy recognized as the Predator clan's way of expressing gratitude, something the Predator captain had done before.
Then, with great solemnity, the Elder handed Roy his war spear and a small object that looked like a medal.
"What's this?" Roy asked.
"This is a token of the Predator clan. If you need help, press the button. It'll send out a cosmic long-wave signal, and any Predator ship receiving it will come to your aid immediately. But it can only be used once, so use it wisely."
So, a one-time "call for backup" tool. Not exactly useful for Roy.
If an enemy was too tough for him to handle, what good would calling in Predators do?
Unless… they could swoop in and take out the American government, wiping out the world's biggest troublemaker?
Hmm, that idea didn't sound half bad!
Maybe they could clean up the Middle East while they're at it?
That'd cut global conflicts in half, at least!
But it was just a fun thought—something to keep as a memento.
The Predators soon boarded their ship and left Earth.
Now, Roy could finally claim his spoils.
The two battles had lasted over ten minutes, but the Xenomorph Queen hadn't moved an inch, lying there gasping.
Roy examined her closely. Her body was covered in cracks, with an unnatural red glow seeping through them, occasionally flickering with sparks.
After a moment's thought, Roy figured it out: Hellfire must have entered the Queen's body, slowly eating away at her life force.
Hellfire wasn't something you could just extinguish. The Queen might look alive now, but she'd eventually burn out and turn to ash.
"Tch, tch, tch. Sometimes being tough isn't such a great thing," Roy remarked.
Her resilience only prolonged her suffering as the Hellfire burned inside her, with no one to end her pain.
The Queen gazed at Roy with pleading eyes, as if begging him to put her out of her misery.
"Don't worry, I'll send you off quick."
Roy raised the Leviathan Axe high. Only a kill with the Leviathan Axe on a legendary creature would yield a rune—death by Hellfire wouldn't count.
The axe came down hard, severing the Queen's head.
[Ding! Obtained the Xenomorph Queen's Fate Chest! Open it now?]
[The Leviathan Axe has slain a legendary creature. You may choose a rune enhancement.]
With her brain gone, the Thing cells in the Queen's body went haywire. Roy held off on checking his new rune and focused on dealing with the cells first.
In the end, most of the Queen's body, along with the Thing cells, was incinerated by the Hellfire. All that remained was her incredibly durable fan-shaped carapace, which Roy stashed in his inventory as a keepsake.
With that, the Alien vs. Predator and The Thing incidents were officially over.
As dawn broke, the rising sun in the east helped Roy orient himself. He found the snow vehicle left behind by Lucas Barnes and planned to drive it back to McMurdo Station.
Unfortunately, Roy's luck took a turn for the worse.
Not long after setting out, he ran into another blizzard. Antarctica's weather this year was downright ridiculous.
Worse, the snow vehicle broke down in the storm. Roy didn't know the first thing about fixing it, so he was stuck staring at the stranded vehicle.
He couldn't help but miss Bumblebee and Clauria. If those two Cybertronians were here, he wouldn't be in this mess.
No choice now—Roy set off on foot toward McMurdo Station. His long-range teleportation wasn't reliable enough yet; the margin of error was too big, so he didn't risk it.
It was just a longer walk. No big deal.
By afternoon, his luck improved. A helicopter flew by in the distance.
Roy quickly pulled out his Smith & Wesson M500 and fired into the air. The revolver's booming shot could be heard for miles.
Sure enough, the helicopter turned toward him.
A few minutes later, Roy realized this wasn't an ordinary chopper—it was a military transport helicopter with Russian markings.
The helicopter lowered a rope ladder, and Roy climbed aboard.
Inside were a dozen burly soldiers and a striking blonde woman.
Clearly, the blonde was the central figure on this helicopter.
Her eyes lit up when she saw Roy, and she excitedly said something in Russian.
Too bad Roy didn't speak Russian. He could only respond with the classic Nick Young confused face.
After a moment, the woman realized her mistake and switched to fluent English. "Hello, are you Mr. Roy Black?"
Roy looked at her curiously. Did she know him?
"Yeah, I'm Roy Black."
She immediately got even more excited. "Mr. Black, I've seen your Olympic performance! Oh, I forgot to introduce myself—I'm Anya Kozlov."
Anya extended her hand, and Roy shook it politely.
The woman was practically a fangirl, holding onto his hand a bit too long, even though she looked a few years older than him.
(Anya Kozlov, played by Milena Radulovic)
Some of the Russian soldiers were curious about Anya's excitement. After she explained in Russian, several of them lit up too.
Russia's a boxing powerhouse, with a history of world champions. The military especially values strength.
Even those who hadn't seen Roy's fights showed respect when they learned he was an Olympic champion.
The military transport helicopter turned into an impromptu fan meet-and-greet. After signing autographs for everyone, Roy finally had a chance to ask Anya, the only English speaker, where the helicopter was headed.
"Uh, there are some things I can't say. I can only tell you I'm a microbiologist here to deal with an infectious disease incident. But don't worry—once we reach our destination, the helicopter will head back, and you can ask the pilot to take you wherever you want."
An infectious disease incident?
Roy had a sneaking suspicion he'd stumbled into another movie plot. A scientist this gorgeous felt like something straight out of Hollywood.
But Anya was on a Russian military mission, and Roy was lucky they'd even let him on board, so he didn't press the issue. He just sat quietly.
Anya, however, kept sidling up to him, asking questions and trying to keep the conversation going.
Roy didn't mind. A beautiful blonde looking at him with admiration? That was a win.
The helicopter flew for another two hours, reaching its destination around 5 p.m.
It appeared to be a Russian mining operation. Roy spotted a massive drilling rig towering over the site.
He found it odd. Antarctica did have rich mineral and energy resources, but with current technology, drilling here was a losing proposition.
The shipping costs alone would be astronomical!
Plus, Russia wasn't exactly short on resources back home. Why drill here?
As they disembarked, Anya gave Roy a heads-up. "Mr. Black, this is a military restricted zone, so it's best if you don't wander. Stay near the helicopter."
Roy nodded. He had no intention of causing trouble.
But sometimes, trouble finds you whether you want it or not.
A young man with glasses and a mustache approached the helipad to greet Anya. He seemed important, flanked by several soldiers.
When he saw Anya, his eyes lit up, and he hurried over, fawning over her while completely ignoring Roy by her side.
Yeah, that was the vibe. Roy didn't understand Russian, but the guy's attitude made it clear.
Anya looked annoyed, clearly put off by the young man's sleazy demeanor.
They bickered in Russian, and somehow, the conversation seemed to involve Roy. The young man suddenly shot him a hostile glare, which Roy found baffling.
The argument escalated, and the young man started yelling. Out of nowhere, he ordered the soldiers behind him to seize Roy.
"What the hell do you want?" Roy snapped.
He wasn't some pushover. When the soldiers rushed him, Roy floored them with a few quick punches, shocking the young man.
Anya hurriedly apologized. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Black! Mikhailov is my suitor. I rejected him, and he's taking it out on you."
Roy was speechless. Being handsome had its downsides—random grudges like this.
If Roy looked like Gerald, Mikhailov wouldn't have dared pin this on him.
Gerald: Excuse me, you polite?
"Anya, translate for me. I'm just a lost American in Antarctica, leaving soon. I don't want trouble."
Roy's American identity was a bit tricky, especially as an FEA agent—basically a special operative.
If that got out, it could spark a diplomatic incident.
But Mikhailov was clearly unhinged, shouting in Russian. Anya's face paled as she translated.
"Mr. Black, get back in the helicopter and hide! He's calling you an American spy. He's the second-in-command here—your situation's dangerous!"
Roy couldn't help but roll his eyes.
So young and already second-in-command in a critical military zone? This guy wasn't just second-in-command—he was a second-generation rich kid, wasn't he?
This kind of thing wasn't uncommon, no matter the country. Nothing new under the sun.
"I've got a better idea," Roy said.
He stepped forward and slapped Mikhailov to the ground.
Joking aside, Roy had fought demon lords. Was he supposed to take this kind of nonsense?
He'd already given the guy enough face. But Mikhailov kept pushing, acting like Roy was nothing. Time for a lesson.
Anya stared, stunned, as Mikhailov clutched his face, eyes wide, looking like he was thinking, "Even my dad never hit me like that!"
"Anya, translate this: I don't want trouble, but if someone tries to give me trouble, I'll send them to hell to find it."
"Uh, Mr. Black, that's…" Anya hesitated, the words too provocative.
"Just translate what I said!"
With no choice, Anya softened the translation to avoid escalating things further.
It didn't help much, though. Roy was radiating killing intent, scaring Mikhailov so badly he wet his pants.
In Antarctica's cold, those thick insulated pants kept it a secret only Mikhailov knew.
Must've felt warm, though.
Cold outside, warm inside—self-contained comfort, right?
More Russian soldiers rushed over. Seeing Mikhailov on the ground and their comrades groaning, they raised their rifles at Roy.
Anya spread her arms, stepping in front of him, explaining in Russian.
The soldiers didn't buy it, but as a key microbiologist, Anya wasn't someone they'd dare shoot. A standoff ensued.
A few minutes later, a white-haired man with a dangerously bold hairstyle arrived, ordering the soldiers to lower their weapons. He asked Anya what happened.
After her explanation, the man gave Mikhailov a exasperated look. He clearly knew the guy's antics all too well.
Then he spoke to Roy in English. "Hello, I'm Grigoryev, the person in charge here. Mr. Black, I believe this is all a misunderstanding. May I invite you into the base to sit and clear things up?"
Grigoryev's attitude was reasonable, so Roy decided to play along.
"Mr. Grigoryev, I just want to get back to McMurdo Station quickly. No trouble."
Grigoryev adjusted his glasses. "I understand, Mr. Black. But the transport helicopter needs refueling, which will take time. Why not come inside and sit for a bit?"
With Grigoryev putting it like that, Roy gave him the courtesy. "Alright."
Roy was led to a stark room with just a table and a chair, like an interrogation cell.
But the door was open, signaling he wasn't detained.
Anya, after a brief chat, was whisked away to work.
Poster for The Kola Superdeep
Adapted from the Russian film The Kola Superdeep.