Just wretched scum. That's what they are. That's the only way to describe those ugly green freaks in futuristic suits with faces like green shit.
Their weapons were too advanced for human flesh to resist in any way. If you could somehow survive a bullet wound, the energy plasma they fired offered no such mercy. A single shot from their weapon literally disintegrated you, but in a far more gruesome way, with a lot of blood.
In the air, Goliath saw how the aliens' shots tore through people, those who didn't react in time.
And these creatures didn't care at all, because they came to conquer.
And just as they didn't care, neither did Goliath, because with such beings, he didn't engage in any conversations. Absolutely none. Force must be met with force.
Plasma from the aliens' weapons flew toward him, but no matter how hard they tried, they can't do shit. Their shots meant nothing—neither from their standard weapons nor from their tanks that had turned their focus on him.
Ahead of him was an army, and behind him were teenagers dealing with smaller groups that had managed to break away from the rest.
" Team Teen. Good start for Mark. "
*BOOM*
The siege with their devastating weapons began just after Goliath had scattered their tanks earlier, reducing the once-formidable war machines to smoldering wreckage. But as he was dealing with the tanks, new portals ripped open in the sky, disgorging fresh reinforcements. The newcomers already had a target locked in—him. And for a brief moment, all they could do was fire. Just for a second. He couldn't let this continue any longer; the damage to the city was already mounting, and every shot they took risked reducing more of it to rubble.
Their plasma shots rained down, each blast kicking up clouds of dust and debris that soon shrouded the battlefield. Through the thick haze, Thomas could see the twisted, victorious grins on the faces of the green freaks. They thought they had him. They thought he was done.
But there was just one problem.
With a sharp, deliberate motion of his hand, Goliath swept aside the veil of smoke, revealing himself to the aliens. Their grins faltered, then vanished entirely. There wasn't even a hole in his clothes. A faint golden glow surrounded him, a shimmering barrier that had protected even the fabric he wore.
"My turn," he growled, his voice low and seething with anger. And then he was moving, charging at them like a locomotive.
***
"Take her to the hospital, now!" the girl in the sleek pink suit commanded, her voice firm but laced with urgency. She was referring to the Invincible, whose name she didn't yet know. To her, he seemed like a novice—maybe even a complete rookie—judging by the way he was staring at the blood staining his hands and the unconscious elderly woman he cradled. His wide goggles were fixed on the woman, as if he were remembering something or coming to a sudden, painful realization. She couldn't quite tell what was going through his mind, but it was clear he was shaken.
"You... Atom—" he began slowly, his voice trailing off as if he were about to say something significant. But he caught himself, snapping back to the reality of the situation. Abruptly, he rose from his sitting position, his arms tightening protectively around the elderly woman. His movements were quick but careful.
He glanced at the girl in the pink suit, his expression a mix of gratitude and resolve. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. Without another word, he took off into the air, the woman held securely in his arms, heading straight for the hospital.
The girl in pink watched him go, her brow furrowing slightly. His voice sounds familiar. She hope that he get to the hospital in time. Though there's still work to do.
"I have a solution for our alien problem," came an absolutely emotionless voice through the earpiece of the red-haired heroine in the pink suit. It was Robot, the leader of the Teen Team, as calm and calculating as ever. He was always the first to come up with a plan, even in the most chaotic situations.
"Whoa, boy, exactly what solution are we talking about?" another voice crackled through the comms, this one far more emotional. It was Rex Splode, always fiery and ready to throw in a few pleasant words. "Overgrown old man fuckin got it, as usual," Rex continued sarcastically over the radio, his tone dripping with his trademark snark.
The girl in pink—Atom Eve—turned her gaze toward the massive portals still looming in the distance. The alien army, or what was left of it, was in disarray. Tanks lay broken and smoldering, weapons discarded as a sign of surrender. The aliens were retreating in panic, their leader the only one left standing. He was shouting furiously in his guttural language, waving his arms wildly in every direction, likely calling his troops cowards as they fled.
"Eve." Robot's voice cut through the comms again, calm and precise.
"Yeah?" she responded, her focus sharpening.
"I need your help. Goliath forced the Floxans to capitulate, but we need to search for civilians under the rubble. Goliath's 'Damage Control' on their way." Robot explained, his tone as steady as ever.
"Got it,"
*
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[ I LIVED BITCH ]