The ultimate rule of survival in the universe: never expose your coordinates.
If you do, what awaits you won’t be friendly visitors, but endless slaughter and rivers of blood.
…
The planet Lingxi was an inconspicuous world in the Milky Way, buried deep within the territories ruled by Odin.
It was home to a native species known as the Rhinocians.
Standing roughly two meters tall, these humanoid beings possessed the hulking, muscular bodies and horned heads of rhinoceroses.
They boasted immense physical strength, but unfortunately, their intelligence left much to be desired.
Despite thousands of years of societal evolution, they were still stuck in the Bronze Age, operating under a primitive slave system.
To the Rhinocians, the Asgardians who could fly across the sky were naturally revered as literal gods.
And today was the day of their annual tribute.
Every year at this exact time, every Rhinocian city was forced to offer up specific resources demanded by their divine overlords.
These tributes ranged from rare ores to specific foods or other bizarre oddities.
As long as they met the gods’ demands, they bought themselves a year of peace.
If they failed to deliver, a batch of their people would be taken away.
And those who were taken away were never, ever seen again.
Even the simple-minded Rhinocians knew that anyone dragged off-world was as good as dead.
It wasn’t that the Rhinocians had never thought of rebelling.
But every single time they tried, it only resulted in an even more brutal, one-sided massacre.
Over time, all the Rhinocians with any real backbone had been slaughtered, leaving behind only the spineless and the broken.
Right now, in a settlement known as Fang Spire City, a massive crowd of Rhinocians knelt trembling on the dirt.
Looming before them were six Asgardian warriors, clad in gleaming golden armor and brandishing advanced spears and shields.
Kneeling at the very front was an elderly Rhinocian—the Lord of Fang Spire City.
His eyes were wide with sheer terror as he begged, “Esteemed Gods, I beg of you, please grant us a few more days!
You suddenly increased the quota by so much, we simply weren’t prepared.
Furthermore, the harsh weather recently has devastated the Titimi fruit harvest.
We just need a few days!
Once the fruit in the western fields ripens, we will harvest it and deliver it to you immediately!”
The Titimi fruit was a sweet-tasting delicacy and the exclusive tribute demanded from this specific city.
In order to meet the absurd quotas, the locals had been forced to raze massive amounts of staple crop fields just to plant Titimi orchards.
Because of this, countless natives had starved to death.
God only knew how many had collapsed from pure exhaustion while working beneath those very trees.
In Fang Spire City, a dark rumor circulated that ten Rhinocian corpses were buried under the roots of every single Titimi tree.
They had originally prepared enough fruit to meet the standard quota, but the gods had suddenly demanded double this year.
There was simply no way to pull that much out of thin air.
The Asgardian warriors, however, were blatantly impatient with the pleading.
The squad leader’s eyes flashed with icy contempt.
“Today is the day of tribute,” he sneered viciously.
The old City Lord remained pressed to the dirt, begging desperately.
“My Lord, we genuinely had enough for the standard tribute!
But you suddenly doubled the quota out of nowhere.
We truly cannot produce that much instantly.
Please, I beg you, just give us a few more days—”
Complete annoyance washed over the Asgardian’s face.
Without a second of hesitation, his spear lashed out.
Squeltch.
The blade tore straight through the old Rhinocian’s chest.
Lifting the elderly Lord’s impaled body off the ground with a single hand, the warrior snarled, “I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses.
Bring me the Titimi fruit right now, or every single one of you dies!”
With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the lifeless corpse back into the dirt.
To the Asgardians, wiping out these lower lifeforms didn’t matter in the slightest.
They were like rats in the dirt; kill one batch, and another would inevitably pop up to replace them.
All Asgard cared about was having useful rats that could meet their demands.
This was the absolute, grim reality of the universe.
The strong preyed on the weak under the cruel laws of the Dark Forest.
Watching their beloved City Lord get butchered in cold blood, the kneeling Rhinocians were instantly consumed by burning rage.
The old Lord was a deeply respected figure.
He had given his entire life to the prosperity of Fang Spire City.
It was entirely thanks to his tireless efforts that the people hadn’t starved to death after being forced to plant the Titimi orchards.
Everyone in the city had received his aid; they all owed him their lives in one way or another.
But nobody was entirely fearless.
Despite the roaring fury in their hearts, they were still too utterly terrified to raise a hand against the wrathful gods.
Seeing the natives cower, the Asgardian warrior felt a surge of absolute disdain, quickly followed by a dark, creeping bloodlust.
It seemed these primitive mongrels had gone far too long without tasting Asgard’s true fury.
If they couldn’t even prepare a simple tribute, how was he supposed to report back to his superiors?
After all, the All-Father Odin was currently planning a grand banquet, and he had specifically requested this exact fruit.
That was the entire reason the quota had been doubled in the first place.
If he failed to collect it now and ended up delaying Odin’s royal banquet, he would definitely be severely punished.
And if he was going down, he was going to make sure these natives suffered ten times as much.
The thought of just wiping the entire city off the map began to sound highly appealing.
Just then, a young Rhinocian leaped up, raising a heavy iron broadsword into the air.
“Avenge the City Lord!” he roared, his voice cracking with grief.
“Overthrow these cruel gods!”
He raised his spear, and a brilliant blue blast of energy shot from the tip.
Clearly, his spear only looked like a traditional melee weapon—it was actually a highly advanced energy rifle.
The next instant, a sickening zap echoed through the square.
A massive, gaping hole was instantly blown straight through the charging young man’s chest.
He stared down at the fatal wound in sheer disbelief before the light rapidly faded from his eyes.
Thud.
His body collapsed into the dust.
“Young Lord!” the surrounding Rhinocians shrieked in absolute horror.
The dead youth was none other than the old City Lord’s son.
The bloody spectacle was the final straw.
Angry voices instantly erupted across the crowd.
“These gods won’t let us live!
Kill them!” “Avenge the City Lord!” “I’d rather die on my feet than live on my knees!”
Seeing the natives finally snap into an open riot, the six Asgardians didn’t panic.
Instead, their eyes lit up with twisted excitement.
One of them actually licked his lips in anticipation.
A split second later, a shimmering energy shield flared to life, completely enveloping the Asgardian squad.
The clash between high-tech weaponry and primitive iron immediately erupted.
Calling it a battle was entirely inaccurate, though—it was a one-sided slaughter.
Armed with mere cold steel, the Rhinocians couldn’t leave a single scratch on the Asgardians hiding behind their energy barriers.
Conversely, every single energy blast the Asgardians fired tore through the crowd, effortlessly mowing down swaths of screaming natives.
But what the arrogant Asgardians didn’t realize was that a live feed of their brutal massacre was currently being beamed from a cloaked warship high in orbit straight to Thanos’s command screen.
…
Sitting comfortably aboard Sanctuary II, Thanos watched the planetary slaughter with icy indifference.
In fact, identical massacres were simultaneously breaking out across multiple cities all over the planet.
After watching for a while, a lot of things suddenly made perfect sense to him.
‘No wonder Thor was constantly putting down rebellions in the movies,’ he mused inwardly.
‘It seemed like twenty-four hours a day, the guy was either crushing an uprising or on his way to crush an uprising.
With Asgard treating its subjects like this, it would be a miracle if they didn’t rebel.’
Then again, the real universe was never as beautifully sanitized as the movies portrayed.
Even species of the exact same race butchered each other flawlessly.
How could anyone expect them to show mercy to aliens?
Having enjoyed the little theatrical warm-up, Thanos didn’t hesitate.
He immediately issued the absolute command for his fleet to launch the invasion.