Chapter 427 – Allen Finds the Human World Increasingly Complicated
The Dark Order's starship streaked through the cosmic void like a meteor.
Thanos, ruler of a dominant galactic force, looked calmly at the Black Dwarf Five.
They were famed throughout the universe and not a power to be provoked lightly.
Thanos' reputation as the "Mad Titan" alone intimidated countless forces—so much so that even the Three Great Galactic Empires kept their distance.
The key reason: the Dark Order had no fixed planetary base, making them flexible and adept at ambush warfare.
Of course, Thanos had his own code—he would never conquer other planets without cause. His only targets were the Eternals.
Much had transpired in the past thousand years.
Among the most significant: Titan, Thanos' homeworld, had been destroyed by the Celestials.
The Titans had naively believed they had escaped the Celestials' control, but in the end, their planet became nothing more than nourishment for the birth of a new Celestial.
As a result, Thanos inherited Titan's divine power and set foot on the path of vengeance.
Outmatched in power, he recruited five subordinates who had suffered similar fates.
Indeed, each of the Black Dwarf Five hailed from worlds destroyed by Celestial emergence. As the last survivors of their kind, they willingly followed Thanos in his revenge.
"Master, we're approaching the human world," Ebony Maw announced, pointing at the blue planet ahead, his eyes full of envy.
Without a doubt, the human world was among the most valuable planets in the galaxy.
It was teeming with life, boasting a rich ecosystem—ideal for habitation by countless species.
"No mass landing. Send an elite team to investigate the Eternals," Thanos ordered.
He was wary of large-scale deployments backfiring.
Any indigenous civilization witnessing an organized fleet descend from space, along with legions of alien beasts, would understandably regard it as an invasion.
Besides, this was the homeland of his former captain. Out of respect, he preferred not to cause widespread destruction.
However, had Allen been present, and the landing target was America, he would have thrown up both hands and feet in support.
After all, he didn't consider himself a citizen of the "land of the free."
"Master, I suggest we wait for confirmation of their location before making a move. Earth has many powerful beings—we don't want to provoke unnecessary misunderstandings," Ebony Maw advised.
As the Dark Order's strategist and a sorcerer on par with Doctor Strange, his counsel carried weight.
Though the Black Dwarf Five were itching to take out the Celestials' minions, they had to consider the big picture—reckless moves could alert the Eternals and give them time to escape.
"Our first move should be to take out Ajak. She's the leader and retains full memory. She's escaped us several times and is incredibly slippery," Supergiant reminded them.
"This time, she won't get away."
Proxima Midnight polished her god-spear, eyes brimming with murderous intent.
Repeated failures to kill Ajak had left her deeply frustrated—and had tarnished her reputation within the Dark Order.
Thanos quietly listened to his five generals strategizing.
He was the ace-in-the-hole. Should their plan fail, he would step in personally to clean things up.
…
A peaceful day in New York City.
Spider-Man Peter Parker swung through the concrete jungle.
Showy and eager to play vigilante, he wasn't exactly annoying—but his enthusiasm was hard to miss.
"Hey, guys. Nothing major's happened lately. I think my popularity's tanking."
He was headed to his usual lunch spot.
From the doorway, he spotted Quicksilver—puffing on a cigar, belly out, furiously stir-frying noodles with focused intensity.
At a table, Wade Wilson (Deadpool) watched the older man work with a look of admiration bordering on infatuation.
Only Nightcrawler, Kurt, was missing—probably out delivering takeout.
"Spidey, want me to rob a bank or something to help boost your clout?" Wade offered casually.
"Wade, everyone knows we're friends. It'd be too easy to trace it back."
Peter sat down and poured himself a glass of cold water.
"Your fried noodles."
Pietro placed two heaping portions on the table, took a deep drag on his cigar, exhaled with contentment, and said, "I like peaceful days. Except when that lunatic shows up."
"Shit, you talking about me?" Wade mumbled through a mouthful of noodles.
"I meant Allen," Pietro clarified.
"Oh… that little bastard. Now that you mention him, I kinda miss the guy."
Among Wade's few genuine friends, Allen was one he actually got along with.
Peter, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about Allen.
They knew each other, sure—but Allen once kidnapped his only family, Aunt May, which Peter could never forgive.
And yet, Aunt May had come home rambling about how he hadn't visited again—asking when he was coming back to kidnap her.
Suddenly, a cloud of black mist swirled as Kurt teleported in, visibly panicked.
"What happened?"
Peter's Spider-Sense flared—he knew something big was coming.
His danger-sense wasn't just reactive; it bordered on precognitive.
"I was delivering food, and the house seemed empty. But there was blood everywhere," Kurt said, grabbing a drink to steady himself.
"Probably the homeowner shot some trespassing black guy. Happens all the time in America," Wade remarked offhandedly.
Kurt composed himself and clarified, "It's not that simple. I teleported to a rooftop for a better view of the city. In some nondescript areas, I saw unknown creatures hunting humans."
Peter shot to his feet, mask on, bolting for the door.
"You didn't pay for your food," Pietro yelled after him.
"I'll settle up when I get paid!"
With that, Peter fired a webline and swung out of sight.
"Should we help?" Kurt asked.
Wade silently slurped his noodles. Pietro turned on the news like any regular civilian, showing no concern for the unfolding crisis.
Deadpool was a mercenary—no cash, no action.
That said, he'd step in if it involved his friends.
As for Pietro, he'd left the X-Men long ago and lost the youthful fire that once drove him.
…
Arkham Fortress.
Fresh out of the shower, Allen felt recharged. In the pocket of his hospital gown were two red bats, wrapped in socks.
Just then, Faora emerged in a loose patient robe.
Don't get the wrong idea—they'd showered in separate stalls.
Allen's Kryptonian armor had been rebuilt by Unita, now infused with vibranium and other materials, significantly boosting its performance.
And the robe Faora was wearing? It was Allen's.
With Arkham Asylum closed, his clothes had to be sent back to the fortress for laundering.
It wouldn't be long before Arkham reopened—Wayne Enterprises wouldn't let one of its assets go to waste.
Especially since Sadako hadn't reappeared, suggesting the danger was over.
"Unita Sun Sun, any updates from your investigation?"
Allen scratched a tricolor cat's belly with a back-scratcher. The cat sprawled out in bliss, limbs flopped in all directions.
"Commander, not only did I locate the targets, but I also uncovered some additional data," Unita replied, summoning a holographic projection with a wave.
Using facial recognition, she pinpointed the Eternals previously hunted by the Justice League and the Avengers.
Unita's true terror lay in her ability to hack Tony Stark's armor and Cyborg's system—undetected.
By tapping into the city's surveillance network and orbital satellites, she easily tracked the Eternals and identified other members.
However, the footage also showed hound-like creatures—hairless and skinned—engaged in battle with the Eternals and hunting humans.
"Mutates!"
Allen instantly recognized them.
About the size of a bull and carnivorous, even a lone one could kill lions or tigers.
Mutates reproduced asexually. Just one could lead to an outbreak.
"What exactly are Mutates?" Faora asked, puzzled.
The universe was vast and full of wonders—so vast that even the Three Great Galactic Empires couldn't claim full understanding.
"They're like Xenomorphs—but worse."
At least Xenomorphs needed hosts to gestate. Mutates didn't. As long as they had food, they could grow rapidly.
Most critical of all, Mutates could absorb the Eternals' energy and evolve.
At the mention of Xenomorphs, Faora's face changed.
During Krypton's search for a new homeworld, they'd encountered Xenomorphs—causing a major biohazard incident.
"Commander, based on my analysis, the Mutates are likely hiding in New York's sewer system," Unita reported.
It made perfect sense.
Mutates hadn't reached critical mass—if they bred on the surface, the authorities would have already wiped them out.
Only by consuming Eternals' energy could they evolve into humanoid forms.
Right now, they were still too weak to pose a threat to modern weapons.
The sewers—vast and full of homeless people—were the perfect breeding ground.
"Finally, it's my turn to shine."
Allen flipped his hair and tucked his back-scratcher and flyswatter into his collar like weapons.
"Boss, my twin pistols are thirsty for blood," Arthur said with a cackle, drawing his guns.
Cobblepot propped a phone on his umbrella while Edward held a tablet—clearly, the comic relief trio were planning to livestream to boost their political campaign.
"You're reminding me of that tragic romance between fugitive Zhou Kehua and the massage parlor girl."
Yee-haw!
Before anyone could figure out who Zhou Kehua was, Allen suddenly leapt onto Faora's back.
"Giddy-up, Krypton!"
"You know you can teleport, right?" Faora rolled her eyes.
She remembered this guy was a mage with expert-level teleportation.
Why ride when you could warp?
"You think I'm stupid? I've got a mount—I'm gonna ride it!"
"…"
Faora nearly cursed in Kryptonian.
As the two flew off, the remaining team exchanged glances.
"Big guy, we can just use Unita's quantum teleportation," Arthur grinned.
With nothing better to do, Uxas decided to tag along. Staying at Arkham Fortress was boring anyway.
The comic relief trio had no idea the being before them was a galactic overlord.
Boom boom boom…
High above the city, Faora flew in classic Superman pose while Allen shifted positions constantly—riding, lying down, sitting cross-legged.
"Will you sit still already?" she snapped.
"No~!"
Allen struck a seductive pose, whining, "I'm a respectable man, I don't do that sassy uwu nonsense."
"One more word and I'm going on strike."
"Strike?!"
Allen's face turned serious. "Faora, you came to Earth to study. Don't pick up America's bad habits. Learn gratitude. Learn to give back. One day, rebuild Krypton and create a new home."
"Krypton's gone. What the hell am I rebuilding?" she retorted.
"There, there… getting all mad over a chat."
Unfazed, Allen stood on her back, hands behind his back, solemnly declaring, "I, having reached the Great Ascension Realm, now comprehend the art of flying upon others."
BOOM!
Just then, two F-22 fighter jets approached from both sides, flanking them.
America took aerial security very seriously. After all, with all the shady things they'd done, they feared enemies might strike at any moment.
The moment the radar picked up a potential target, elite fighter pilots were immediately dispatched.
"Headquarters, it's not an enemy aircraft. It's a man and a woman flying through the sky. They're wearing hospital gowns."
The camera mounted on the pilot's helmet transmitted the footage back to base.
Hiss…
The officer stationed at headquarters inhaled sharply when he got a clear look at the two.
"Withdraw immediately. Do not display any hostile intent."
"Understood!"
One was a Kryptonian invader. The other was someone listed by the top brass as an ultra-classified taboo figure.
They couldn't afford to provoke either of them—truly, absolutely couldn't.
After weighing the pros and cons, they decisively pushed the problem off to the Justice League.
Seeing the two fighter jets suddenly bank and vanish, Allen said in confusion, "Why'd they leave?"
"Aha! I get it now."
Realization dawned on Allen, and he said smugly, "They must've been so ashamed after seeing my unparalleled good looks that they fled with their tails between their legs. Damn it, I really should've worn a plastic bag over my head before going out. Letting the world bask in my radiant handsomeness—it's bound to hurt people's self-esteem."
"…"
Shameless.
If shamelessness were a crime, he'd be sentenced to two hours of execution on the spot.
Faora rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Did it never occur to you they might be afraid of me?"
"Come on, Fi, can we not pretend?"
Allen gave her a quick once-over and said blandly, "What's so scary about you?"
Er…
Faora realized that, in front of Allen, she really had no right to say that.
As they chatted, a figure in a tight-fitting suit caught up to them.
"Supes! What a coincidence, meeting in the sky like this." Allen waved in greeting.
"Allen, so it's you," Clark relaxed visibly. So it wasn't an enemy invasion. He asked casually, "Faora, why are you dressed like that?"
"You've got the wrong person. I'm not Faora."
Faora covered her face with one hand as she continued flying, firmly refusing to admit her identity.
So humiliating.
After getting beaten up not long ago, her current appearance would definitely be mocked to death.
Clark just smiled without saying a word.
In truth, he didn't want to kill the last of his fellow Kryptonians, so during the pursuit, he had gone easy on her at every turn...