On the ruinous battlefield, the scent of smoke and blood mingling in the air, Thanos, the Mad Titan, stood towering over Black Bolt, the defeated king. He looked at the fallen monarch like an insect, the cold blue of his eyes lacking any warmth or mercy. Beneath his gaze, Black Bolt seemed insignificant, a fragile creature squashed under the colossal weight of defeat.

Thanos then shifted his attention, advancing towards the queen of the Inhumans, Medusa, her once regal presence diminished by their harsh circumstances. She was encircled by grotesque insectoid Swarm, their cruelly segmented bodies twitching, antennae quivering, ready to pounce at their master's command. They radiated a stench of alien musk, the smell of cold, unfeeling nature.

"I wish I could regale you all with the thrilling details of my successful invasion," Thanos began, his voice a thunderous echo against the backdrop of desolation. "But," he continued, "I am not a third-grade villain, and I don't want to jinx myself."

Finally, Thanos arrived before Medusa, her face a portrait of despair and fury. His gaze, as penetrating and clinical as a scalpel, made the queen flinch. For a moment, she looked like a statue carved in alabaster, frozen under the heavy gaze of Thanos. Even her cascade of sentient hair seemed immobilized, as if touched by Medusa's namesake, the Gorgon herself.

His massive hand rose and approached her face. She closed her eyes, bracing for the touch, but what he did next took her by surprise. He removed the mask that hid her forehead. The moment his fingers brushed against her skin, a chilling wave ran through her, leaving her frozen in time. His eyes met hers, and it felt like the titan was peering directly into her soul.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. This elicited a sharp look from the defeated king, his gaze burning with indignation at the sight of this creature touching his wife. But Thanos' smile was not one of mockery. It was for a different reason altogether.

Medusa, the queen of the Inhumans, was indeed a sight to behold. Her hair, an unending cascade of fiery red locks, danced around her like sentient tendrils, each strand reflecting the scarce light around them. Her face, although marred by recent battles, retained an air of ethereal beauty, her features delicate yet firm. Her curves, accentuated by the regal attire, were a symbol of her femininity, not her weakness. The sight of her, even in this state, was enough to captivate anyone. But Thanos, he wasn't captivated by her beauty. He was merely acknowledging it.

Medusa began, her voice cracking under the weight of the situation. Her words were a plea, a final attempt to protect what remained of her people. "I beg of you, spare the children and women. They pose no threat to you."

"I have no need of them," the titan replied with a dispassionate shrug. His words were a death sentence, a judgment passed without any consideration. This cold, callous response triggered a lioness-like fierceness in the queen's gaze. However, trapped as she was within Thanos' psychokinetic grip, her fury was but an illusion, her helplessness a stark reality.

Yet, within the depths of despair, a glimmer of hope flickered in Medusa's heart. She remembered Lockjaw, her loyal canine companion, who had successfully managed to teleport a significant number of their people away from Attilan.

Therein lay the seeds of a future, a chance for her civilization to rise from the ashes, to rebuild, and one day, perhaps, to avenge the wrongs of this horrific day.

As the realization of potential salvation took hold, Medusa's gaze hardened. With a force of will that belied her trapped state, she glared at Thanos. It was the glare of a queen who would not bend, of a lioness protecting her cubs, of an indomitable spirit undeterred by the direst of circumstances.

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Yet as she glared, the Mad Titan merely turned, unperturbed by her silent defiance. Instead, he began to wander aimlessly around the battlefield, his massive hands pulling masks and artifacts from the bodies of fallen Inhumans. To the eyes of the survivors, this seemed an act of pointless desecration, the titan casually plundering the spoils of his victory. His large, rough fingers delicately removed even the smallest trinkets, seemingly fascinated by the alien technology and artistry. A few survivors shot seething looks at the titan, their expressions mirroring the dying embers of their once-mighty city, smoldering in mute fury.

Thanos then began his slow march towards the entrance of Attilan, the grotesque Swarm parting before him like the Red Sea did for Moses. His towering figure cast an intimidating silhouette against the smoky backdrop, a daunting reminder of the omnipotent force that had brought Attilan to its knees.

However, before disappearing into the shadows of the entrance, he paused. His back to the broken Inhumans, he began to speak. "Ah, about those people who were teleported by that giant dog," he began, his voice echoing ominously across the battlefield, "I know where they are."

The words struck Medusa like a bolt of lightning, the implications of his statement sending chills down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest, the hope that had begun to rekindle threatened by a fresh wave of despair. "You... you are lying!" she called out, her voice strained but filled with a fervent denial.

Ignoring her outburst, Thanos continued, his back still to the survivors. "Egypt, a sanctuary in the middle of nowhere." He let the words hang in the air, their importance sinking into the hearts of the remaining Inhumans.

The realization shook Medusa. Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened in stark horror. The defiant king Black Bolt, too, was no better off. A surge of desperate fury overtook him as he strained against Ulysses's hold. His silent scream fell flat, the effects of the mysterious syringe still lingering.

"But don't worry, I will let them live," Thanos added nonchalantly, a sardonic edge to his voice. As he neared the entrance, he added a chilling addendum.

"Somehow."

At his final word, a cacophony of grotesque shrieks filled the air. It was a silent command to the Swarm, an order to massacre the remaining Inhumans. The battlefield erupted into a gruesome symphony of despairing cries, pleading for mercy, and the sickening sounds of bodies falling. As Thanos ambled away, the sorrowful orchestra became the background score to his departure.

He walked through the vast corridors of the royal palace, seemingly untroubled by the lingering screams.

Thanos navigated the labyrinthine palace with an air of grim determination. His massive frame dwarfed the narrow corridors and imposing cell doors that seemed to stretch on forever. He walked with a strange grace that belied his massive size, his boots echoing on the gleaming floors. A tangle of cables and wires lined the ceiling and walls, their intricate configurations illuminating the space with a soft, cyan glow.

He then entered in what looked like a prison. A long, grim hallway lined with cells stretched before him. They were empty now, a sure sign of the desperate times Attilan had faced. "They probably freed the prisoners to have more manpower," he muttered, running a hand along the cool, sleek surface of the cell doors.

A voice echoed in his head, soft yet impatient, "Who cares, I want to see my little girl. Those bastards must have starved her." The voice felt like a grandmother yearning to see her granddaughter, a sentiment that almost felt alien in Thanos' mind.

At last, he stopped in front of a cell, different from the rest. Inside the cell, a petite woman floated suspended within a translucent pod filled with a bluish liquid. Her blonde hair floated around her like a halo, catching the light that seeped in through the narrow slit at the top of the cell. Her naked body was covered with a fine network of tubes and wires, a mask obscuring the lower part of her face, providing her with life-sustaining oxygen.

She looked fragile, innocent, a stark contrast to the grim surroundings. But there was a sense of latent power in her, a dormant strength waiting to be awakened.

A small smile crept onto Thanos' face, his first in a long time. "Hello, Chloe," he said softly. The Titan found what he was seeking for, but this was only the beginning. Because as the victor, all the loots of war were his to be taken. But for now, he had found Chloe.