Flying in the sky, with who knew how many people watching, Su Ming did not reveal any Cosmic Energy or Symbiotes. He merely flew around casually, swung his weapon to cut down a few bugs, and went through the motions.
The Annihilation Swarm King accepted those terms. It had no choice. At least until it was absolutely certain it could defeat Deathstroke, it would not be coming back.
The remaining minions and three Brood Queens were left behind as punching bags for those who needed to vent their anger. Anyone who wanted to hit a "sandbag" could go ahead. Su Ming, meanwhile, felt perfectly calm.
The vortex in the sky was rapidly shrinking, like water reversing down a toilet. Countless bugs fled in all directions under the pursuit of the heroes in the sky, trying to escape back into the giant hole.
But the three Brood Queens had clearly been tied up by the Guardians of the Galaxy. The platforms they relied on for movement had been wrecked by Rocket's gatling gun, leaving them unable to go anywhere.
Star-Lord had come from the Space Marauders. They were mercenaries and pirates, with the occasional side job as tomb raiders or bodyguards. By the usual rules of space piracy, crippling an enemy ship's thrusters or engines was basic practice.
The Guardians had assembled, and Gamora was among them. It looked like Star-Lord would soon be facing Thanos and the Chitauri.
Still, the comedy troupe probably would not feel much pressure. After all, Deathstroke had already taught Dancer the essence of awkward dancing.
Flicking the blood from his weapon, Su Ming returned to the ground, picked up the arm he had chopped off the Annihilation Swarm King, and tossed it into Strangle's mouth.
"Analyze the Annihilation bugs' genes and see whether there's anything