Alien Milk

In the barren, highlands of the rural expanse, a group of men in ragged clothing created an ambiance of vicious determination, their weathered faces echoing stories of hardship. Their weapons, an eclectic array of spears, swords, and small blades, glinted ominously in the harsh sunlight. They were garbed in tattered greens and browns, their clothes as worn and rugged as the land they inhabited. Their air was not of desperation, but a steely resolve that dared to defy their bleak surroundings.

The road they surveyed from their high vantage point was paved and long-winding, cutting through the monotonous terrain like a grey serpent. Some of them were engrossed in a game of cards, a circle of men huddled on the gritty soil, their faces etched with concentration. Others, however, had their hawk-like gazes fixated on the winding road below, their postures tense, the dull glint of their weapons revealing their readiness for any unexpected occurrence.

"Why are we still surveying this place again, brother Yang?" one of the men, with a rough beard and a potbelly, grumbled, his back supported by a craggy wall, his sword sheathed by his side. His clothes were a dirty green, standing out against the rusty color of his surroundings.

The man referred to as Yang had bushy eyebrows and a robust physique. He shot a glance at the man with the potbelly, his expression far from amiable. "Don't get me started. The boss is too greedy, even wanting us to survey such a remote place, waiting for some fools eager to get their goods stolen," he retorted, his voice laced with annoyance.

Another man chimed in, gulping down a pinkish liquid from a dirty bottle, the liquid shimmering in the sun's harsh light. "Yeah, we could be more useful for the incoming 'invasion,' but he sent us to rot in this place," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"If it was for me, I..." he was cut off when one of the men looking out from the vantage point called out, "Brother Yang, someone's coming!"

The group instantly silenced, their attention shifting to the road below. A towering figure could be seen in the distance, a purple man of towering stature and intimidating physique. His attire was modest, a reddish shirt and pants, simple in design, but failing to hide the bulging muscles that threatened to rip through the fabric at any moment. His steady, unhurried strides were the epitome of nonchalance, a testament to his confidence and absolute command over his surroundings. A bracelet glistening with iridescent hues on his wrist, and a humble-looking ring adorned his right index finger. Despite his simple appearance, he commanded attention, a solitary figure cutting through the barren landscape.

Yang squinted at the approaching figure, the corners of his lips tugging downwards. "An easygoing posture, alone, and almost zero possession on him, he is either a lone cultivator or a rogue monk, in both cases, we should avoid him," Yang stated, his eyes momentarily flickering a dark red as he observed the stranger.

The rest of the group nodded, their postures relaxing slightly as they hid themselves behind the rock formations, thankful for Yang's foresight that had saved their lives numerous times. But their relief was short-lived, as the calm was suddenly shattered by the sound of a gruesome slash and a head rolling down from the rock formation.

Chaos erupted as one of the bandits fell, his head cleaved off from his body. The immediate panic revealed the culprits - two monstrous bug-like creatures emerged from the shadows, their razor-sharp scythes glinting ominously. The first was crowned with two blackish horns that stretched backward, the second with a single, radiant blue horn adorning its head. Their dual pairs of piercing, bluish eyes glowed with malicious intent, while their scythe-like appendages dripped with fresh blood. These creatures were like nothing the bandits had ever encountered before, yet, in their terror, they could identify a resemblance to some known monsters of their world.

The few remaining bandits had little time to comprehend their predicament. Yang was a seasoned fighter, but even he had not faced such horrific beasts before. However, he maintained his composure, rallying the remaining men, his voice ringing loud and clear above the sounds of impending doom, "Regroup! We block, then counter!"

Under the leadership of Yang, the remaining bandits tried to regroup. While the bug-like creatures were fast and lethal, they seemed fragile. One of the bandits managed to pierce the abdomen of one of the creatures with his spear, indicating a potential weakness. With a renewed sense of hope, Yang directed his remaining men, his voice booming over the chaos, "Attack!"

The battle was brutal and relentless. One by one, the bandits fell, their numbers rapidly dwindling from dozens to just a handful. In exchange, however, the creatures began to slow, their attacks losing precision as they bled from multiple wounds. Seizing this opportunity, Yang commanded once more, "Kill!"

With a dreadful screech, the creature with the giant horn lunged at Yang. Yet, Yang anticipated the creature's move. Drawing his bow, he let loose an arrow that sped past his remaining comrades and accurately struck one of the creature's eyes. A blood-curdling screech echoed through the air as the beast writhed in pain. Using this opening, a bandit with a long sword lunged forward, his weapon cleaving through the belly of the beast. The monster's insides spilled out as another deafening screech filled the air.

But amidst the thrill of the impending victory, something changed. A swift, chilling breeze swept over them. Yang's headless body tumbled to the ground, his wide, surprised eyes staring at his own decapitated body. Chaos erupted once more as another creature joined the fray, slicing through the remaining bandits with an eerie efficiency. It moved like a ghost, its figure barely visible as it darted in and out of the shadows. Meanwhile, the two-horned bug raged on, its attacks becoming even more ferocious in its injured state. It skewered a bandit with its horn, lifting him high into the air as his cries filled the scene.

The formation crumbled, their leader dead and a new enemy among them. The remaining bandits fought desperately, but the onslaught was too much. The shadowy figure continued its lethal dance among them, while the two-horned creature wreaked havoc. One by one, the last bandits fell until silence once again took hold of the area.

At last, the battlefield fell silent. The monstrous bug-like creatures stood victorious amidst the carnage. For a moment, they stood still, gazing at a rolling bottle from among the bandits' belongings. They reached out towards it, but a sudden voice halted them, "Still." The authoritative command resonated in their minds, freezing them in place.

A figure descended onto the scene. A colossal man, his crimson clothes fluttering in the wind, landed gracefully. His presence was akin to a god among mortals, radiating immense power that commanded respect. The bandit's bottle floated towards him, landing gently in his large hand.

Thanos, the purple titan, reached out for the bottle with an unnerving calmness. His large hands opened the container with an almost comical difficulty, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. The scent that wafted from the bottle was familiar, stirring memories that were long buried in his mind.

"Is this... milk?" he murmured, a trace of surprise lacing his deep, resonant voice. He downed the pinkish liquid with a thirst he hadn't felt in ages, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the refreshing taste. It was an oddly domestic scene, the titan casually enjoying a beverage amidst the bloodbath he had orchestrated.

With a slow, languid motion, Thanos turned the empty bottle upside down, shaking out the last few drops of the precious liquid. His amethyst eyes narrowed in contemplation as the sweet taste lingered on his tongue. He traced his thumb over his lips, savoring the residue, before finally setting the bottle down.

"These bandits wannabe," he mused out loud, a peculiar gleam in his eyes. "I wonder if they have more." His gaze swept over the dead bodies strewn about, each one a carbon copy of the other - a similar insignia emblazoned on their vests, identical boots encasing their feet, the same rugged hairstyles. Yes, they were part of a larger pack, there was no doubt.

The bugs hissed in unison, echoing their master's curiosity. Their strange eyes flickered with a sinister light as they surveyed the area, eager to taste the liquid that had enchanted their creator. Their mandibles clicked in anticipation, their shiny exoskeletons shifting with restlessness.

"Call your brethren and scout every single piece of rock to find their whereabouts." The command was unmistakable. It echoed with an authority that commanded respect and obedience. The two creatures, driven by their master's will, let out a series of piercing screeches, high and eerie, a call to their kin.

A moment passed before the call was answered. From the shadows of the rocky terrain, the grotesque shapes of more bug-like creatures emerged. They swarmed towards the site, their glowing eyes illuminating the dusk, a grotesque sight to any onlooker. However, Thanos merely watched impassively, not bothered by their monstrous appearance.

His eyes flickered back to the bottle, his fingers still clutching its neck. He let out a low sigh, reminiscing the sweet flavor that once filled it. He could almost taste it again, the tantalizing flavor dancing on his tongue.

"Spread out," he ordered, breaking the silence. His voice resonated through the quiet desert, vibrating the very sand beneath their feet. Without a moment's hesitation, the bug creatures spread across the vast expanse, their wings buzzing in the twilight, the ground trembling beneath their monstrous feet.

Thanos stood alone amongst the bodies of the fallen bandits, his figure a commanding silhouette against the fading light. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he imagined the bandits' lair filled with the tantalizing liquid. Today would indeed be a copious feast for some, and a merciless death for others. The Swarm was back, reborn into an unknwon world, yet their purpose remained the same, to serve their god, their creator, Kai Thanos.