"Open fire! Blast those Terra-crazy maniacs into sieves!"
The Nova Corps' interim Commander—a purple-onion-headed alien—stood on a hovering platform, roaring in fury.
To him, this was outright farce.
A bunch of primitive Earthlings in ridiculous spandex, without even proper armor, dared to run wild in Xandar's capital plaza?
It was like grinding the Nova Corps' face into the dirt.
Zzzt—
Whizzz!
At the Commander's order, countless Nova fighters locked on in unison.
Thousands of yellow energy beams poured like a rainstorm, instantly swallowing the tiny figures at the square's center.
"Hmph, clueless."
The Commander sneered, not even bothering to look. "Notify sanitation—prepare to scrub the area."
However, the next second, his grin froze as if super-glued in place.
BOOM!
When the smoke cleared, no shredded limbs were to be seen. Instead, a colossal blue figure slowly rose from the center of the blast.
Apocalypse.
At this moment his body was skyrocketing in size.
Five meters... ten... fifty!
In the blink of an eye he became a sky-spanning blue titan. His white-and-purple battle suit, stretched to this scale, radiated an eerie divinity.
The once-lethal energy beams struck his rock-like blue skin, as if harmlessly scratching an elephant—no mark left behind.
"That all you got?"
Apocalypse lowered his head, gazed at the mosquito-sized Nova fighters, and showed a savage grin.
"Your tech is pathetic."
"As the vanguard of Lord Frieza, I'm thoroughly disappointed."
Whoosh—
Apocalypse swept out an arm, swatting.
No fancy tricks—pure power and size domination.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Several fighters that couldn't evade exploded mid-air, blooming into brilliant fireballs.
"If you must die, then die spectacularly."
Apocalypse laughed wildly and clenched the empty air. His telekinesis erupted, crumpling two frigates together into a twisted scrap-iron knot.
"W-what is that monster?!"
The Commander's eyes nearly popped and his communicator clattered to the floor.
"That... that's a Terran?"
Since when did Earthlings evolve into Gundams?
Before shock could even register, on the battlefield's other side, Erik moved.
He showed none of Apocalypse's brutality. He simply hovered in elegant repose, hands conducting an invisible symphony.
"Metal..."
Erik closed his eyes, a rapturous smile blooming.
"What a delectable aroma."
"Seems the Nova Empire's tech is rather rich."
Zzzt—
An unseen magnetic field blanketed the entire airspace.
Then the horrific scene began.
Above, hundreds of Nova fighters performing evasive maneuvers suddenly lost control. No matter how pilots yanked the sticks, the ships stayed frozen or rather, refused every command.
"What's happening?! Engine failure!"
"No—the ship's moving by itself!"
Amid the pilots' terrified screams, every fighter was dragged by an invisible hand, forcibly changing course. They turned about, their cannons aimed at wingmen.
"A little fireworks for Lord Frieza." Erik's lips curled coldly and his hands slammed together.
Boom!
Rumble—
Hundreds of fighters collided simultaneously, igniting a sky-spanning pyrotechnic display.
Debris rained down, sending ground-bound Nova Corpsmen scurrying for cover.
[Ding! Mass panic detected in Nova Corps! Fear Points +2000!]
[Ding! Fear Points +3000!]
...
High above, Frieza, swirling his wineglass, listened to the sweet notifications in his mind.
He sipped, then turned his gaze to the battlefield's quietest corner.
There sat a bald elder.
Professor X, Charles Xavier.
He remained motionless in his wheelchair, an anomaly amid the carnage.
Yet within a hundred-meter radius, no one dared approach.
"Your turn, Charles."
Frieza's voice, laced with unquestionable command, echoed in Charles's mind.
"No slacking, I'm watching."
Charles's fingers trembled faintly.
He lifted his head, eyes once full of wisdom and compassion now held only ashen numbness.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered, as if confessing to the air.
The next second, he pressed two fingers to his temples.
Zzzt!
A titanic psionic wave swept across the battlefield.
Nova Corps soldiers, moments ago firing wildly, froze in perfect unison. Thousands of fully-armed troops stood like powered-down robots.
Their eyes bulged in terror—conscious yet utterly helpless.
"What's going on?! My arm won't obey!"
"Commander, help! My rifle—it's rising on its own!"
Amid desperate cries, their arms lifted, muzzles aimed at comrades beside them.
"No... please..."
A single muddy tear rolled down Charles's cheek, yet his brain faithfully executed the demon's order.
Clean up.
"Fire."
Bang... Bang...
Zzzt—
A gruesome slaughter began.
Once-inseparable brothers, now under irresistible control, wept as they pulled triggers, blasting holes through one another's chests.
Blood painted the plaza red.
"Devils... they're devils!"
On the command platform, the Commander, witnessing this, collapsed mentally.
Even against the Kree fleets, he'd never seen such eerie, hopeless carnage.
Physical attacks useless!
Weapons hijacked!
Soldiers' very minds seized!
How could this battle be fought?
"Quick! Contact the Nova Prime—NOW!"
The Commander clutched his communicator, roaring.
"Request maximum support! Activate the World Barrier!"
Meanwhile, at the battlefield's far end.
Wanda tore heavy support cruisers apart mid-air like paper with her chaos magic.
Azazel teleported, reaping heads.
Wolverine carved a bloody swath through the crowd.
Under assault by these "Earth bumpkins," the Nova Corps line collapsed in under ten minutes.
High above, Frieza, watching the one-sided battle, gave a bored yawn.
"Too weak."
"Not even enough to warm me up."
He flicked the empty glass away and straightened his white suit, crimson eyes turning toward the tallest three-pointed star spire at the city's heart.