As Su Ming walked through the warship, he observed a world cloaked almost entirely in black. Beyond marveling at the advanced alien technology, he couldn’t help but notice so peculiarities.
For instance, the Kree were not much different from humans, with heights rarely exceeding two ters. Yet, their warship’s internal ceilings soared high, corridors stretching over ten ters tall, and the vast halls they passed through felt cavernous.
This waste of space sohow evoked a solemn, almost reverent atmosphere, as if walking through the warship was akin to entering a temple of so strange, heretical faith.
There were no rest areas to be seen—only training rooms and firing ranges. The ship’s interior was designed solely for war.
No directional signs marked the way, and every Kree they encountered wore a stern expression. If not for the ambassador’s beaming smile, Su Ming might have thought this was a race incapable of laughter.
The Kree military discipline was impeccable, perhaps the most formidable army Su Ming had ever seen.
Their eyes burned with a hunger for war, distinct from the Asgardians’ pursuit of glory. The Kree craved conflict itself, regardless of the cause.
Every movent seed synchronized, and even as they navigated the ship, Su Ming saw no trace of the chaos or urgency one might expect in battle.
They treated the opposing Dark Elf fleet with utter disregard, as if it were a re patrol. Those ant to train continued training; those ant to change shifts did so without hesitation.
Along the way, Su Ming responded to the ambassador’s questions with curt, precise answers, giving the impression of Odin’s enigmatic depth.
By the ti they reached the bridge to et Accuser Ronan, the ambassador was practically bowing so low his face nearly touched the floor.
"Welco, great Odin of Asgard. Your presence honors us imnsely," Ronan said, turning from the giant display screen dominating the bridge’s wall to bow respectfully.
Though his blue face remained devoid of a smile, etched only with seriousness, the depth of his bow conveyed sincerity.
"Welco to Asgard, Kree friends. What brings you here?" Su Ming, embodying Odin, rely nodded in response.
Ronan wasted no ti on small talk. He explained the situation, requesting Odin’s aid—specifically, a warship.
But Su Ming wasn’t about to agree so quickly.
"Prepare a feast first. I wish to see you deal with the Dark Elf fleet. Only then will we talk. Warriors without strength are unworthy of Asgard’s friendship."
This seemingly simple demand stumped Ronan.
Kree military regulation 46587 strictly prohibited intoxicants on warships, with severe penalties for violators, including a mark on their record.
Moreover, Kree ships didn’t carry conventional food. Space travel relied on simulated gravity, but the most practical provisions were portable—nutrient gels and injectable solutions.
Surely they couldn’t offer Odin a tube of that to suck on or inject the king of Asgard with a nutrient shot?
Yet Odin’s intent was clear. He sat confidently in Ronan’s chair, as if awaiting the feast.
Ronan, reluctantly, ordered nutrient gels to be brought.
The gels arrived in disposable containers resembling Earth’s ice cube trays, filled with deep blue jelly.
Su Ming, eager to try sothing new, popped the quivering gel into his mouth, maintaining his stoic expression.
It had no flavor at all. The gel lted quickly, but it was as tasteless as swallowing nothingness.
Stranglehold relayed intel simultaneously: the gel flooded the body with energy, enough to overwhelm an ordinary human.
It was surprisingly potent, leaving even Su Ming invigorated.
"Not bad, but the texture’s lacking," Su Ming remarked to Ronan with a regretful expression.
"The Supre Intelligence deems flavor additives an unnecessary luxury, increasing gel costs by 5% and production ti by 2%, with no functional benefit. Personally, I prefer the old, flavored nutrients," Ronan replied, hinting at sothing deeper.
Su Ming caught the implication. Among the Kree, nostalgia was frowned upon. The Supre Intelligence viewed society as ever-progressing; longing for the past was akin to rejecting evolution, a sign of weakness.
Nostalgia often marked one as a royalist, yearning for the days of the Kree Queen’s rule before the Supre Intelligence’s rise.
"Let’s see you repel Malekith first. I want to witness the might of your Kree warship," Su Ming said, sidestepping the topic. Discussing such matters on a Kree ship risked eavesdropping by the Supre Intelligence, a foe more troubleso than Ultron.
Ronan, unsuspecting, saw this as a promising start. Did Odin’s interest in their warship’s power an he was considering aiding in its construction?
Emboldened, Ronan ordered his crew to ram Malekith’s flagship, Dark Fate, with the Dark Aster.
He had his own agenda. The new warship was for the Supre Intelligence. Displaying the Dark Aster’s firepower before Odin would ensure the new ship was even mightier.
A fine plan, but Malekith was no fool. A master of cosmic guerrilla warfare, he quickly deduced Ronan’s intentions upon seeing the Dark Aster charge with thrusters blazing.
The Dark Aster’s size, weight, and durability outmatched his own ship.
With Odin and Ronan both present, launching Cursed Warriors would be futile. Instead, Malekith dropped several Cursed Warriors into Asgard’s city below to sow chaos, then activated his fleet’s cloaking and scattered at full speed.
"They flee like cowards," Ronan sneered. After a prolonged standoff, with Malekith losing ships, he still chose to run?
The Accuser felt cheated, like a punch thrown at empty air.
Su Ming wasn’t surprised. Malekith fighting to the death would’ve been the real shock. He’d abandoned his howorld to beco a space pirate, all to survive.
"A shaless coward, devoid of honor. Land your ship, Accuser of the Kree Empire, and be my guest in the Golden Palace. I have plenty of traditional food to offer," Su Ming said.
Building a ship for the Kree was no great matter. The Supre Intelligence’s vessel was ant to counter the Skrulls, and their request to Odin was a preemptive notice that the Kree had no designs on the Nine Realms.
As long as Ronan provided materials, Su Ming, acting as Odin, agreed to the shipbuilding.
"I still find the Kree Queen more... approachable," Su Ming said casually, seated on the throne as they parted.
Ronan’s mind churned. Odin’s distrust of computers aligned with his own strategy—a promising sign.
Watching the blue-skinned Kree depart, Su Ming calculated silently.
The Dark Elves wouldn’t dare return for now. The Light Elves, hunted by them, could recover in Asgard for a few days.
The High Evolutionary would likely accept his wager, sending Beta Ray Bill against phisto. Though Bill lacked Stormbreaker, his strength wasn’t tied to the hamr.
As a half-cyborg, Bill’s magic resistance was high, making him a natural counter to phisto.
If predictions held, the Destroyer Maidens would soon withdraw. They were formidable tanks, and phisto would need them.
Once they left, Gulveig could lead the fire beasts across the Rainbow Bridge, neutralizing that threat.
The real questions were: What was Hela planning? Where had Hydra slithered off to? And had the Serpent truly erged?
As he pondered, the sound of clashing weapons echoed outside.
Not all the Cursed Warriors had been dispatched by the guards. One had sohow reached the Golden Palace’s gates.
"Stand down," Su Ming ordered, dismissing the guards. Wielding Gungnir, he faced the Dark Elf’s Cursed Warrior, eager to test its ttle.
Cursed Warriors were born of Dark Elf sorcery, infused with volatile dark energy, creating an unstable super-state.
Dark Elves were already formidable, rivaling Asgardian warriors and far surpassing humans.
As Cursed Warriors, their power surged exponentially, capable of overwhelming even nad warriors like the Warriors Three in single combat.
In the Thor films, only one Cursed Warrior appeared—Algrim, the Dark Elves’ second-in-command, transford into Kurse. His feats were limited to knocking Thor and Loki around.
But in the comics, the Dark Elves fielded an entire army of Cursed Warriors, the Cursed Legion, so formidable even Odin would avoid direct confrontation.
At his peak, Kurse, empowered by the Beyonder with four tis Thor’s strength, utterly dominated the God of Thunder.
This Cursed Warrior was likely a re foot soldier. Yet, when Su Ming struck with Gungnir, the black monstrosity crossed its arms, blocking the blow and rely sliding back a few steps.
Though Su Ming hadn’t used his full strength, the strike carried over ten tons of force. For the creature to deflect it so casually was impressive indeed.
Reviews
All reviews (0)