The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents swiftly mobilized resources, preparing for this sudden attack.
"These are... giants?"
Inside the monitoring room, the Frost Giants' massive, oppressive figures appeared on the softly glowing screens. The image occasionally flickered with slight signal fluctuations, lending the scene an even greater sense of realism and urgency.
These giants stood over two meters tall, like walking statues. Their muscles bulged, hard as rock, as though every sinew contained endless strength.
Their skin was nearly bare, with only crude garments made of brown and dark-brown fur draped over them. The pelts had clearly been stripped from some large beast, displaying both their primitive savagery and a sense of reverence for—and unity with—the forces of nature.
Huge beast fangs hung from their necks as ornaments. The fangs glinted coldly under the sun, each one seeming to tell a bloody, brutal hunting tale, making the giants appear even more primitive and wild.
Their skin was ice-blue.
Their gazes were deep and hollow, filled with savagery and madness. They were like Killing Machines that had emerged from The Mist of ancient times, without the slightest trace of modern civilization.
It was a pure, primitive aesthetic of violence—the most direct and brutal pursuit and display of power.
"These are... giants?"
Coulson and an Army Major General from the America military voiced the same question at the same time, their tones filled with both surprise and disbelief.
Their eyes remained fixed on the surveillance screen, as if they wanted to burn every detail of these giants into their minds.
The scene truly looked as though it had crossed over from a barbaric tribal age, carrying a wildness and primitiveness that did not belong to this era.
Yet these giants were simply too tall. Though they had not reached the dozens of meters attributed to