Anyone who attempts to invade Duncan's mind, spirit, or consciousness is inevitably shocked by the scenes inside his brain.
After all, as the dominant consciousness, being surrounded and protected by the minds of countless aliens, Duncan is an extremely rare life form in the entire universe.
Duncan had long understood that the more aliens there were, and the stronger their average power, the stronger the protective force around him.
Consequently, the spiritual power he could wield became even more formidable. In fact, as long as his consciousness was strong enough, there would be no problem for him to eventually complete his own unique alien astral projection technique. Every time he descended—even across universes—the pressure would be shared by countless aliens.
Indeed, much like how Ancient One cultivated numerous ascetics to shoulder debts, the things a magician could do, Duncan had taken a similar yet entirely different path, using his unique abilities to create something akin to constructing a magical system.
Ancient One observed the person before her. Just moments ago, Duncan was standing there, but now he had reverted to Reynolds and an alien embryo.
She had never explored Duncan's brain, but she vaguely sensed that his spiritual structure was unlike anything else.
"Many people think Duncan is just lucky, that he either accidentally created or obtained aliens from some hidden dimension, but in reality, Duncan himself is the most special of all."
Ancient One sighed lightly. It was the same sentiment. If this were decades or even centuries ago, as the Supreme Sorcerer, she would have used every method at her disposal to suppress Duncan, preventing him from expanding his influence excessively on Earth, lest it destabilize the planet.
At the very least, Ancient One didn't want the planet she was guarding to eventually become a world overrun by aliens—such a scenario would be disastrous.
She didn't want to be in opposition to someone like Duncan.
But now, Ancient One had more important matters to attend to.
The recent confrontation with Dormammu had drained her significantly, and many of the ascetics in Kamar-Taj were probably dead.
She had seldom needed the ascetics, but she had left more behind for Strange as a precaution. This situation, however, was special.
With a thud, Reynolds collapsed unconscious.
Ancient One raised her hand and sent Reynolds through a portal, sending him back to the Vilander Building.
"I know you're in poor condition, but I must remind you—if one day, you manage to accomplish what you wish, you must leave some room for Earth... because I may not live to see that day, and when it comes, stopping you will no longer be my task," Ancient One said.
It sounded like a final wish. Perhaps Ancient One had already prepared herself for the worst.
So, who had she chosen? Was it Strange? Spider-Man was dead, so there would never be a Spider-Man Supreme Sorcerer.
Duncan thought to himself, his mind exhausted, falling into a rare, deep sleep.
He slept for two days.
Two days wasn't long, but the outside world had already undergone drastic changes. What certain people had desperately tried to hide before could no longer be concealed.
Undoubtedly, the most affected were the many celestial beings on the World Tree. They had watched the unique battle from afar, witnessing Dormammu being slowly forced back by two humans from Midgard. He was forced to steal some strange creatures and retreat to the Dark Dimension.
It was an extremely dangerous battle, and the powerful entities on the World Tree could clearly feel the waves of energy emanating from it.
If this had been in other parts of the universe, entire planets would have shattered, and even the sun might have gone out.
"Dormammu still retreated. I originally thought the strongest being in Midgard was Ancient One, but unexpectedly, another fierce being appeared, and their combat style was entirely different."
Ancient One used magic, which was normal. After all, humans from Midgard were famous for being weak among the Nine Realms, with the lowest average combat power. But suddenly, a mighty fighter who excelled in hand-to-hand combat emerged, which definitely caught everyone's attention.
People from various worlds scattered, using different methods to search for relevant information. Soon, they learned about the recent events in Midgard.
"Duncan? Aliens? Parasitism? Chest bursting? How interesting. I didn't expect such strange beings to exist in a place like Midgard."
In Muspelheim, Surtur's daughter, Queen Sind, another celestial being of immense power, eagerly opened her eyes, recalling the vast amount of information she had just received.
"When Dormammu made his final move, I remember he was willing to risk being attacked by those two humans just to directly strike at Midgard. It seems he was after these aliens. But no matter how I look at it, these aliens don't seem remarkable enough to astonish a god."
Queen Sind was quite interested in the aliens, but no matter how she assessed them, she didn't find anything particularly extraordinary about these parasitic lifeforms.
If the aliens themselves weren't special, then perhaps their origin was?
Every being at the All-Father level had a life essence far beyond that of countless lesser beings. Their brains functioned at a level vastly superior to conventional supercomputers, allowing them to calculate endless possibilities within mere moments and systematically eliminate unlikely outcomes.
More and more powerful beings began to realize that Dormammu's true interest might not have been the aliens at all—but rather, Duncan himself, especially now that Kaecilius was dead.
"Hmph, so the one who created these aliens is a Midgardian?" Sind sneered. "I originally planned to track down the mastermind behind them after conquering Asgard, but it seems he has revealed himself."
If there was an All-Father who understood the aliens best, it was undoubtedly Laufey, the ruler of Jotunheim. Too many of his kin had fallen to these fearless, relentless creatures.
These wretched beings had extreme adaptability, were born solely for battle, and even possessed highly corrosive blood capable of melting through superalloys. As a species, they had an incredibly high starting point. If the aliens had existed in the distant past, one of the worlds hanging from Yggdrasil might very well have become an "Alien World."
Because they were worthy of it.
"What surprises me even more is that if the creator of these aliens were just some Midgardian scientist with the ability to control them mentally, that would be one thing. But now it seems that's not the case at all. This man actually has a subordinate who can hold his own against Dormammu…" Laufey narrowed his eyes, his blue irises flashing with newfound caution.
As an ancient God-King, Laufey would have gladly eliminated Duncan and assimilated the alien species into the Frost Giant ranks as a vassal race. Nothing could be more fitting.
But now, that was no longer an option. He had to be careful. If Duncan could once again display the kind of power he used against Dormammu, even Laufey had to think twice—was it really worth provoking such an enemy before Asgard was fully dealt with?
"Even the Ancient One only became an All-Father-tier being through Kamar-Taj's centuries-old heritage and magic. But Duncan? How long has he even existed?"
Laufey couldn't understand it. Many other All-Fathers couldn't either. Even in the farthest reaches of the universe, ancient civilizations and primordial beings began to take notice.
That tiny planet, Earth, had suddenly become a subject of great discussion.
"Hey, Quill, did you hear about that incident? That battle took place at the exact coordinates of your homeworld, right? Yondu snatched you from there, didn't he?"
"Oh, damn it, stop asking me about this! I've answered a hundred times already! I was a kid back then—I don't remember anything about Earth! And I have absolutely no interest in going back!"
Star-Lord irritably shoved aside the drunken Ravager pestering him.
Hanging around with the Ravagers, he had long felt there was no future for him there. He was already making plans to leave.
But Earth, huh? That backward planet, with its ridiculously short human lifespans—could it really have produced such a powerful figure?
Star-Lord even began to suspect there had been a mistake. Perhaps they were talking about a different planet altogether.
Still, he etched the name "Duncan" into his mind.
After all, just as Duncan had once told Dormammu, there is no better way to announce yourself to the universe than by trampling over an ancient demonic god.
Meanwhile, Earth itself was in utter chaos.
Anyone who wasn't blind or a fool had seen the terrifying demon god appear in the planet's outer atmosphere.
Historians and scholars who had long been dismissed as lunatics began pulling out their old research papers—once regarded as mad ravings—to prove the possible existence of extra-dimensional deities. Though the publicly available information was fragmented and incomplete, it was enough for people to realize just what they had been dealing with.
"First, Thor appeared, seemingly proving the existence of Asgard. Now, a god from some 'Dark World' has shown up? Is this really the universe we thought we knew?"
"I even saw powerful sorcerers standing up to defend Earth! That glowing trail in the sky—that had to be magic, right? Magic is real!"
"I thought vampires were crazy enough, but now we've got mythological gods and beings from alternate dimensions? I swear, I must have slipped into a parallel universe."
For the people of Earth—more specifically, its civilians—the past year had been an overwhelming rollercoaster.
One world-shaking event after another had shattered everything they thought they knew.
The beliefs they had built from their education and the internet had been torn apart in less than a year.
They could still understand Tony Stark—after all, he was a billionaire who built a suit of armor using technology. They could also comprehend the Hulk, a biochemical monster.
But as things progressed, everything became increasingly incomprehensible. The world was quietly but fundamentally changing, and an influx of bizarre beings appeared all at once, as if all of humanity had collectively traveled to another reality.
It turned out that when humanity as a whole was forced to reevaluate their world, it naturally led them to revisit and scrutinize historical myths and legends.
For a time, Earth was like a boiling pot of soup, and even the smallest splashes felt like alien blood, burning those they touched and making them howl in pain.
Previously, organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. could still find ways to cover things up. Even when the battle in New Mexico took place—when Duncan lifted Thor's hammer and forcibly altered the weather on a massive scale—they had methods to limit the spread of information as much as possible.
But when the demon god Dormammu arrived, they were utterly powerless.
The most direct consequence was that people began to actively seek extraordinary power. They had witnessed firsthand the sheer strength of those who stood against Dormammu, and it gave them a profound sense of security.
Even though the battle took place across an unimaginably vast distance—so far that even the most advanced astronomical equipment could barely capture its details—humanity only needed to know one thing: that individuals could possess power capable of standing against otherworldly monsters. That knowledge alone was enough.
"That golden, glowing figure—I think I recognize him. He's the superhero known as the Sentry, a follower of Duncan!"
"Damn it, we couldn't get a clear shot of that guy's face. All we know is that he took off from somewhere in the Himalayas! Since when was the Sentry in the Himalayas?"
"Look around the world—who else has power like his? Oh, wait, maybe one other person: the one who appeared on Broadway back then. But he's been missing for a long time. Besides, who else but the Sentry would step up to fight for us when we're facing an existential crisis?"
"You're all fixated on the Sentry, but I noticed something else—the one giving him orders. The Sentry was taking commands from someone! And that other indistinct figure? That might have been another of Duncan's subordinates… or maybe Duncan himself."
Most ordinary people had never heard of the Sorcerer Supreme, but they all knew Duncan.
Recently, in the wake of numerous major incidents, Duncan's presence had become a constant. Even when he wasn't personally visible, his Xenomorphs were omnipresent—slipping through the darkness, moving like spectral assassins, their razor-sharp tails poised to deliver lethal strikes. That was the public's general impression of them.
And more and more people were beginning to understand exactly what happened when one was parasitized by a Xenomorph.
To put it bluntly, they became superhuman.
In the current climate, that temptation was far too great.
After all, mutants also had superpowers, but they were universally despised and hunted. But those who became Xenomorph hosts? All they had to do was pledge their loyalty to Duncan.
"Xenomorphs are the future! Embrace the Xenomorphs—join the glorious evolution!"
"Hey, we should establish a Xenomorph cult and trick a bunch of regular folks into joining. We could make a fortune off this…"
"Get lost! If you wanna die, don't drag me down with you. From now on, I'm cutting ties with all of you—I don't even know which eldritch god you're worshiping, and I don't want to find out."
Before long, someone dug up an old Weyland Corporation recruitment notice.
Immediately, countless people rushed to join Duncan's ranks, eager to become superhuman through a "safe and side-effect-free" process.
Of course, they were well aware of the possibility of chestbursters.
But as long as they did what was expected of them—so long as they didn't betray Duncan—how could that ever happen to them?
Day after day, massive crowds gathered outside the Weyland building, keeping watch with binoculars, meticulously observing every movement. Whenever a Xenomorph was spotted patrolling the area, it would be met with frenzied cheers and fanatical worship.
Truth be told, if not for Duncan's ability to directly sense the Xenomorphs' mental states and issue orders accordingly, countless reckless individuals would have already died at their hands.
When Duncan awoke, he casually glanced out the window and was met with a vast sea of people. With his enhanced hearing, he could hear nothing but fervent chanting.
"What a spectacle. Even more lively than before. If I so much as cracked the door open, these lunatics would throw themselves in without hesitation."
He took a sip of hot water, smacking his lips. The noise outside was somewhat irritating.
As everyone knew, Duncan had little interest in parasitizing ordinary humans.
"What the hell happened? My head feels foggy, like I had some fragmented dream. And my whole body aches—I'm covered in wounds. Even using stellar energy to heal myself, it'll take time before I'm back to full strength."
At that moment, Reynolds—rarely seen using the elevator—arrived before Duncan. The once robust man now looked emaciated and pale, his body bearing clear signs of severe damage.
As Reynolds struggled to recall his fragmented memories, he began to realize that he might have done something truly remarkable.
"Rejoice, Reynolds. Look outside—those people are cheering for our achievements."
Duncan gestured toward the crowd. "That body of yours personally drove back a demon god."
Reynolds hesitated. "Did I really do that? I remember… but I could've sworn it was you—"
"It was us, Reynolds. Us," Duncan interrupted.
"...Yes. It was us."
Reynolds murmured to himself, and soon, his eyes lit up. He realized there was no need to overthink things—all he had to do was embrace the glory of the moment.
With a single step, he pushed his weakened body forward and flew out of the Weyland building. He mustered what little energy he had left, his entire form glowing brilliantly as he soared through the sky. Naturally, the crowd erupted into cheers and screams of admiration.
Watching Reynolds zip back and forth in the sky, Duncan shook his head.
It was a trivial indulgence—he wouldn't bother interfering.
There were far more important things to focus on.
"Over the past two days, countless planets must have received my signal and learned of my existence… This will lay a solid foundation for the future. But at the same time, many ill-intentioned individuals will inevitably set their sights on me."
Duncan stroked his chin in thought, a look of calm understanding on his face. He had to admit that deep within him lay a streak of madness and recklessness. Whenever he saw an opportunity for advancement, he would never let it slip away. Instead, he would seize it with a fervor bordering on hysteria, doing everything in his power to grasp the future.
"Relying on Reynolds alone is not enough. Death Maiden is strong, but her strengths and weaknesses are equally pronounced—she alone is not enough to serve as a fully capable Skyfather-level combat unit. I need more powerful subordinates. Meanwhile, Samuel has made significant progress with the gene bank project… Soon, when the time comes..."
Duncan pondered deeply. He had already verified that his consciousness could successfully descend into the Xenomorphs, a discovery of immense importance.
He decided to contact Thor.
Asgardian Palace
Thor was struggling to understand the sounds coming from the Xenomorph in front of him.
"Hiss! Hhh! Hiss!"
"Thor, what is it saying?"
Thor frowned, clearly troubled. "I've been listening for a while, but I still don't get it… Something about riding a sausage to Nidavellir to walk a dog?"
Sif considered it for a moment before offering a guess. "Maybe it wants custom-made equipment, just like we have?"
"I'm not sure… But at the very least, this proves one thing—our Xenomorph language course needs to be developed faster. Otherwise, we won't even be able to communicate properly with these Xenomorph brothers."
"But the war isn't over yet," Sif said helplessly. "We barely have enough manpower to defend multiple planets and remain vigilant for a Frost Giant attack at any moment. Since you have such a good relationship with Duncan, I think we should seek his help again. It wouldn't be the first time we've called on him."
The Asgardian warriors in the room all turned their gazes toward the Xenomorphs, their eyes burning with anticipation.
They weren't wrong—once you asked for help once, asking again became second nature. There was no shame in it.
No one had expected Duncan to don the Destroyer Armor and actually push back Dormammu. Even though it was known that Duncan had won at great cost—and only with the Ancient One's assistance—it was still an extraordinary feat, enough to earn the admiration of all Asgardians.
"If the All-Father were still alive and learned of this, he would surely summon Duncan," Fandral said wistfully.
The mood in the room grew somber, except for one person—Loki, whose expression remained stiff and unreadable.
"I just want to know when he plans on returning the Destroyer Armor," Loki interjected suddenly. "And while he's at it, Mjolnir too. It's not like he's using it!"
"The Xenomorph just told me that Duncan will soon dispatch a new army to finish this war once and for all," Thor said solemnly.
"By 'finish,' does that include King Laufey of the Frost Giants?" Loki sneered. "Does Duncan actually think he can do as he pleases within the Nine Realms? What a joke!"
Thor glanced at Loki. His brother felt more and more unfamiliar to him. "And what if he actually can?"
Loki only responded with a cold smile. He knew Odin wasn't truly dead. He also knew how difficult Laufey was to deal with. At worst, Laufey could always escape. There was no way Duncan possessed the ability to survive prolonged combat in deep space, let alone wage war against Asgard or Jotunheim.
Yet despite all that, Duncan could threaten him.
Loki, ever prideful, found himself deeply unsettled by Duncan's meteoric rise. He felt lost. By all accounts, he was superior to Duncan—smarter, more cunning, and with over a thousand years of experience on his side. And yet, the gap between them was growing wider by the day.
A fierce resentment burned within Loki. Sitting on this throne, it seemed as though he held all the power—yet, in reality, he was merely a tool, bound by the very authority he wielded.
"This is our chance," Thor declared to everyone. "We have gained an incredibly powerful ally. This war will soon be over."
He felt immense pride, knowing that Duncan and the Xenomorphs were allies he himself had secured.
Initially, Thor had put aside his pride to ask Duncan for no more than a hundred Xenomorph warriors. But now, the total number of Xenomorphs on the battlefield had exceeded ten thousand.
Thor's respect and gratitude toward Duncan grew stronger. He pondered how best to express his thanks.
The Xenomorphs in the palace had heard the entire conversation, and naturally, so had Duncan. But he remained indifferent to their disputes.
The trickster god Loki was indeed formidable. Had this been a few months ago, Duncan would have viewed him as a serious threat. But now? That feeling had all but disappeared.
"Unless Loki somehow becomes this universe's Sorcerer Supreme, he's no longer an enemy I need to take on with my full strength. We will never see another battle like the one in New Mexico."
Duncan prepared for his latest wave of military expansion. Soon, he would deploy an overwhelming force into Asgard, bringing this war to a decisive end.
He needed prisoners—plenty of them. By doing so, he would carve out his own place within the divine hierarchy of the World Tree.
On one hand, he was sending Xenomorphs to Kamar-Taj to study magic. On the other, he was aggressively pursuing divine power.
"Hmm… wait a second. Why is there a strange presence among my Xenomorphs…?"
As Duncan meticulously planned his next move, his expression shifted slightly. He turned his gaze toward a particular location.
Weyland Tower, 93rd Floor
A newly born Xenomorph, having just completed its chestburster stage, stood motionless amid the gory remains of its host—a vampire's mangled chest cavity.
It slowly swiveled its head, taking in its surroundings with dull, unfocused curiosity.
The other Xenomorphs immediately sensed something off about this newcomer. Even the other freshly hatched Xenomorphs reacted at once, closing in and surrounding it in a tight circle.
"Where is this? Why am I here?? There's so much blood and flesh on me… and I actually feel excited… Wait, something went wrong with this reincarnation!"
The strange-looking Xenomorph was utterly dumbfounded by its current situation. The moment it opened its eyes, it found itself surrounded by a horde of bizarre creatures. This inexplicable scenario terrified her.
As a mutant with the ability to reincarnate, Moira had never encountered anything like this in her past two rebirths. At the very least, she had always started anew as a mutant. But this time? She wasn't just not a mutant—she wasn't even human!
When Moira lowered her head to examine her body, she was completely stunned.
"This is… my body? White skin, sharp claws, and this tail… My body is constantly growing at an accelerated rate… Is this really me? No, I don't even have eyes! I'm truly no longer human!"
Her entire body trembled, her emotions far more complex than those of an ordinary Xenomorph. She opened her mouth, instinctively wanting to say something, but only managed to produce a few simple sounds.
"Hiss! Hiss-hiss!"
The surrounding Xenomorphs responded in the same language.
Moira was horrified to realize that she actually understood them.
She wanted to escape, but the moment she made a move, the other Xenomorphs immediately pounced on her, pinning her effortlessly to the ground.
However, just as suddenly as they had restrained her, the creatures seemed to receive some kind of order. They released her and silently went about their business, leaving her alone in the middle of the room.
"Who am I now? Where am I? I'm a mutant—I should be helping Professor X and Magneto unite against humanity after reincarnation… But why have I become like this? Did my ability malfunction? Have I been reborn as a monster? And what even is this creature? Why have I never heard of it in my past two lives?"
Curled up into a ball, the Xenomorph shivered. Despite having lived three lives, she was still just a young girl.
Every thought and emotion she experienced was fully perceived by Duncan.
Duncan pondered for a moment. Without hesitation, he launched a psychic invasion, forcibly sifting through Moira's memories from her past two lifetimes.
Moira immediately sensed his presence. Rationality told her to resist fiercely—her mind was crucial, and she couldn't allow some unknown entity to violate it. But at the same time, an instinctual and absolute obedience took hold of her, leaving her trapped in a violent conflict between resistance and submission. The contradiction was driving her insane.
"Who are you?! What do you want? You did this, didn't you? What have you done to me?!"
"Calm down, Moira. I know you're afraid, but fear won't solve anything—it will only make things worse, turning into a black hole of despair. A different beginning isn't necessarily a bad thing. For you, it might be the very opportunity to rewrite your fate."
As Duncan sifted through her memories, he saw Moira's past struggles—how she had been bullied, humiliated, and ultimately met tragic ends in both previous lives.
"This is unexpected… A mutant with reincarnation abilities being reborn as a Xenomorph? Could it be that my battle with Dormammu disrupted the established flow of time? A slight deviation in fate's trajectory? No wonder the Ancient One never liked revealing the future seen through the Time Stone—she always said the future is chaotic."
Duncan was utterly fascinated. He felt as if he had discovered a delightful new toy, and without restraint, he amused himself by manipulating this unique being—a Xenomorph with the soul of a young girl.