"Cough… cough…"
The ragged sound of coughing broke through the settling dust. Blackrow, bruised and bloodied, staggered to his feet, face contorted in pain. Purple blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, glistening unnaturally in the low light.
He wasn't the only one.
Around him, several other Mogadorians—hulking, pale-skinned aliens—groaned and pushed themselves off the ground, their sleek armor cracked and smoking. These were elite invaders, genetically engineered for war. Stronger, faster, more durable than any human.
And yet, half their strike team was dead.
Alex's sonic blitz hadn't just taken them by surprise—it had torn through them like they were made of paper.
The ones who'd survived?
Crippled. Shaken. Barely clinging to life.
Even the fad resilience of the Mogadorian warriors ant nothing here.
Not against him.
"You're… you're not from Earth…" Blackrow gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. "What planet are you from?!"
He stared at Alex like he was seeing a god.
No human should have this kind of power. In the blink of an eye, thirty Mogadorians—his soldiers—had been annihilated.
This had to be a trick. So kind of alien infiltration.
A Kree? Skrull? So hidden species they'd overlooked?
But none of them were this absurdly powerful.
Alex didn't answer. He didn't even blink.
Instead, he gave a short, dismissive grunt.
Then his eyes glowed red.
No...
Blackrow's body tensed. A primal sense of death crawled up his spine.
Without thinking, he launched himself backward, legs kicking off the ground like pistons.
SHZZZ-KRACK!
Twin beams of blazing heat vision roared from Alex's eyes, carving a molten crater into the pavent where Blackrow had just been standing.
Energy blasts cracked through the air. The surviving Mogadorians raised their alien rifles, firing volleys of plasma at Alex.
Bright bursts of blue and white tore through the night.
And Alex didn't move.
He didn't flinch. He didn't dodge.
He let the blasts hit him—dozens of them—full force.
Blackrow's lips twisted into a cruel grin. "That's it… no one survives that much firepower."
At that rate, even a war machine would be reduced to scrap.
But then—
The grin died.
The smoke cleared.
Alex was still standing. Completely unhard.
No burns. No bruises. Not even a tear in his clothes.
He didn't even look annoyed.
What… what is this guy?
And then—
SHZZZ!
More heat vision.
More carnage.
One by one, the Mogadorians fell.
"Ugh!"
"Argh!"
The beams sliced through their armor like it was made of foil, cutting them down with surgical precision. They didn't even have ti to scream.
It wasn't a battle.
It was a massacre.
They weren't surrounding Alex.
He was hunting them.
Their attacks couldn't scratch him. They were barely an annoyance. But every ti he moved, soone died.
It was like watching a god cut down insects.
Every blow was instant death.
No one survived.
No one.
Blackrow's throat tightened. He clutched his weapon—but his hands trembled. His legs refused to move.
What was the point?
If that much firepower didn't even make Alex blink… what could he possibly do?
Still…
Blackrow was Mogadorian.
He didn't need to win a fight.
He just needed to buy ti.
A cruel smirk twisted across his lips.
He threw his head back—and let out a piercing, alien shriek.
"Don't let him finish!" Smith shouted, panic lacing his voice. "Stop him now!"
Number Six's eyes widened in horror. "He's calling it…"
Smith tried to run, but plasma fire cut him off.
"Smith, look out!" Six yelled, springing in front of him.
With a burst of telekinesis, she flung a shield between them, deflecting the incoming blasts.
SHZZ! SHZZZ!
Before the Mogadorians could fire again, Alex's eyes lit up—again.
The attackers didn't even scream. They just dropped, smoking holes through their chests.
Smith froze mid-sprint. His eyes tracked the last of the Mogadorians as they hit the ground.
Alex was about to turn his heat vision on the last few—when sothing stopped him.
He tensed.
Looked up.
Frowned.
Everyone followed his gaze—Selene, the vampires, even Six.
And then they saw it.
Sothing massive was flying through the sky.
A monster.
Huge, winged, snarling. Its claws glead like blades. Its fanged maw twisted into a snarl, and its tail bristled with barbed spikes.
It looked like a genetically-engineered dragon crossed with a prehistoric predator.
A flying bio-weapon.
"What the hell is that?!"
"My God…"
People gasped. Even the vampires took involuntary steps back.
The creature scread—
ROAAAARRR!
Its shriek shook the very air, rattling eardrums and making the asphalt tremble. Even hardened killers like Selene flinched. Others staggered, clutching their heads as the sheer force of the roar cracked the night wide open.
This thing wasn't prey.
It was apex.
Alex didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
SHZZZ!
His heat vision fired again, twin beams slamming into the beast's torso mid-flight.
A spray of sizzling, purple blood exploded from its side. Flesh split open, scorched by the blast.
But the creature didn't fall.
It roared again—angrier.
The damage had landed.
But it had barely slowed down.
That's new, Alex thought, narrowing his eyes.
This thing could take a hit.
Good.
He was just getting ward up.
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