"You despicable, inferior civilization! The Kree Emp—"
Bam!
Before Ronan could finish his furious outburst, he abruptly swung his hammer in front of himself to block. A man half his size charged in with a shield and sent him flying with a thunderous crash.
The Supreme Accuser's usually ice-cold expression grew increasingly twisted and ferocious. Ronan strode forward to meet Steve Rogers, but halfway there, a silver-gray steel giant of nearly equal size leaped into the air and intercepted him.
Peter Rasputin swung the Adamantium Battle Axe with wild abandon, chopping so fast that Ronan could barely defend himself. It was as if this Kree commander had some great blood feud with him.
Each blow came faster than the last, as though he feared Laura and the others might steal this immense credit for the kill if he took even a moment too long.
Captain Rogers, whose opponent had been snatched away, shrugged helplessly. He didn't know many of the Legion's young recruits from the Mutant Academy, but he knew those kids were all more ferocious than the last.
With a touch of sentiment, as though one generation was giving way to the next, Steve turned his gaze toward the fallen Dark Aster's bow. A Kree warrior stood there in silence, her face indistinguishable from that of a human woman.
Her gaze was fixed on the Giant Wolf Throne at the far end of the battlefield, her eyes locked on the black-haired, black-armored figure.
Bzzzt.
"...Vers, Vers! We have to destroy the ship behind Howlett! If Magneto and that psychic keep controlling the battlefield like this, we won't last ten minutes."
The Kree Empire's next "Marvel," Vers-Vell, listened to Yon-Rogg's anxious shouts over the communicator, her expressionless gaze remaining fixed on James Howlett at the other end of the battlefield.