"Gravik, is this really how we're going to live on Earth? We can't speak our own language, can't show our true faces… and now we even have to go through physical exams like lab rats?"
They were in the basement of a LexCorp warehouse in Kansas—a temporary settlement designated for Gravik and the group he led.
Before the Skrulls could move freely, they were required to undergo full medical screenings, ensuring they didn't carry any unknown cosmic diseases.
The screenings weren't just for humanity's protection. They were also a safeguard for the Skrulls who genuinely wanted to coexist peacefully. Only by confirming they posed no hidden threat could they safely integrate into human society.
Still, even this basic precaution stirred resentment among some of them.
Despite fighting with the Kree for over a thousand years and becoming recognized as galactic refugees, many of them still looked down on Earthlings, who had yet to set foot in space.
To them, Earth was a primitive world. If the Skrulls were going to live here, it should be under the leadership of a more advanced race. That was the way they saw things.
"Don't say that, Sykris. This isn't a Skrull world," Gravik replied, cutting her off firmly.
He had been appointed as the group's representative after extensive talks with Talos, who believed he had the insight and restraint to lead. Gravik understood something others often overlooked: Earth wasn't as weak as it appeared.
Mega-corporations like LexCorp, Stark Industries, and Doom Industries held incredibly advanced technologies. Humanity might not have reached the stars yet, but it was only a matter of time. If war broke out, it wouldn't be the humans who lost. It would be the Skrulls.
And there was another reason Gravik dared not act recklessly: Martian Manhunter.
Though he was close with Carol and she strongly supported the Skrulls, if there were ever a conflict between Skrulls and humans, J'onn J'onzz would be the first to take control of them.
Gravik kept all of this in mind. That's why even though he also secretly believed Skrulls were superior to humans, he didn't dare act on it. In front of figures like Reid, he was respectful, never stepping out of line.
What he didn't know was that the moment Carol left, Reid used his telepathy to scan the thoughts of every Skrull present.
The ones who had once lived aboard the Kree cruiser were fine. They were grateful for the help the humans had offered and held no thoughts of betrayal.
But the others—those who hadn't fought side by side with humans against the Kree—felt differently. Even if they didn't show it, many harbored quiet resentment toward the current arrangement.
That discontent lingered deep within their minds. Most didn't even realize it themselves. After all, before coming to Earth, they were just refugees drifting through space. But now that they had a taste of stability on Earth, that buried ambition would eventually rise to the surface.
Gravik, the representative of this group, was one of them.
"Sykris, don't overthink it. What matters now is surviving. We need to rebuild our population, which is down to just a few thousand. That's the real priority."
"I understand," she replied, though her expression showed otherwise.
After calming the new arrivals who were already showing signs of restlessness, Gravik filed a status report with LexCorp security and received permission to leave the compound. Taking the form of a human guard, he exited the Kansas facility and stepped onto the quiet streets.
The city felt crude to him. Its buildings were simple, its technology outdated. Still, he forced himself to remain calm, pushing down the storm of conflicting thoughts swirling inside.
'It's not time. Not yet.'
He made his way to a nearby supermarket, bought some fresh food and other necessary items, then quickly left. He'd only requested thirty minutes for supply shopping, and staying too long might raise suspicions. He needed to get back to LexCorp quickly.
But as he hurried down the empty street, he started noticing something strange.
Back when Carol found him, Gravik had been leading a group of Skrull refugees, always on alert and dodging Kree patrols. His senses were sharp, and changes in his surroundings didn't go unnoticed.
"Why is no one here?" he muttered, glancing around.
They'd spent time aboard the cruiser studying human society to better blend in once they arrived. He knew this was a rest period for most humans, but still—there should've been at least a few people on the street.
Sensing danger, Gravik instinctively tried to reach for a weapon. But ever since he arrived on Earth, all his gear had been confiscated. The only thing he could use now was the kitchen knife he had just bought at the supermarket.
Bang!
A gunshot shattered the silence. The bullet flew at supersonic speed toward Gravik, who had been on high alert.
'So they are watching us. Was it that conversation just now...?'
Gravik had long suspected the humans were monitoring them. Now, his suspicions were confirmed.
While thinking, he threw himself into a diving roll, narrowly dodging the bullet. Though it moved faster than sound, his battle-hardened instincts kicked in just in time.
But the moment he stood up again, his foot caught on a thin wire stretched across the alleyway, nearly invisible in the dim light.
Snap!
In the next second, two crossbow bolts shot out from the shadows, piercing straight into Gravik's back.
"Argh!!!"
Green blood splattered across the pavement as he let out a howl of pain.
"Who's there?! Come out and face me if you've got the guts!" he shouted, voice ragged with fury.
All that talk about not revealing his true appearance in human society was gone in an instant. Right now, all Gravik wanted was to survive and defeat whoever was attacking him.
Of course, he didn't actually expect his words to work. It was just a taunt, a bluff.
But unexpectedly, his opponent didn't follow the script.
"Very well. Here I am."
The voice came from behind. Gravik whirled around and froze.
A man stepped out of the shadows, clad in orange and black armor. His face was partially obscured, but one cold eye glared at him. In both hands, he carried blades that glinted under the streetlights.
"Who are you?! Why are you attacking me?!" Gravik demanded, inching backward. His enemy had clearly come prepared, and he wasn't stupid enough to charge straight in.
But Deathstroke ignored the Skrull's cautious retreat. He simply spoke in a calm, indifferent voice.
"Do I need a reason to kill a green-skinned, green-blooded alien?"
**
**
**
Thank you for reading! If you'd like access to extra chapters and want to support my work, you can visit my P@treon:
P@treon/SilverShark769
Vote with Power Stones for Bonus Chapters!
Your support means a lot, thank you!