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A cruel smile crossed Zhib-Ran's face. He watched Miss America's body slam into the floor with enough force to rip the concrete from the very ground. Hyperion took his time floating toward Chavez, intent to continue beating the girl to within an inch of her life. If only. He'd have to hold back significantly if these insects had any hope of surviving this trivial encounter. Normally, Zhib-Ran didn't worry himself about keeping his enemies alive. But this was a special case. It was not yet time to reveal his true loyalties. So for now, Hyperion pulled his punches. "I must say, Miss, I expected more from you. Perhaps the good captain overestimated your abilities." Zhib-Ran jeered. He hoped his taunting would drive the girl to her feet. If she was as brutish as Hyperion suspected, the dimension-hopper would lose her cool and attack him out of spite. Anger was a powerful asset, but few knew how to control it. "Come now. You're not down and out after that, are you?"

The doors to the training room slid open. Zhib-Ran briefly turned toward the new arrival, and was mildly surprised to see the so-called Ant-Man standing in the doorway. 

"I guess you can call me truant for this shindig."

O' gods. Hyperion internally grumbled. He makes ant puns. Kill me now. The absurdity of it all was uncanny. Zhib-Ran was an alien god. He was destined to lord over the entire Milky Way galaxy. He was only months away, perhaps weeks, from slaughtering every so called 'hero' on this backwater world and setting himself up as its sole ruler. And his primary adversary, the only people who had any sort of hope at stopping Hyperion's conquest, were these 'Avengers.'

And one of them made ant puns.

"Seriously?" Zhib-Ran muttered. This is ridiculous. Who in their right mind wou- In his moment of utter perplexity, Hyperion had neglected to mind his surrounding. He was totally unaware of Miss America's recovery and subsequent charge until she had struck him directly in the jaw. If he had been any of the six billion or so gnats that populated earth, Zhib-Ran's head would have promptly exited his shoulder at three digit speeds. But Hyperion was no fragile human. Miss America's strength, while greater than many of the mightiest warriors earth bred, was nothing compared to this particular alien. Zhib-Ran stumbled backwards a step. Surprise crossed his face for but a moment. "Ha!" He proclaimed as soon as he realized what had occurred. "Well done, my dear. You took advantage of my ineptitude. You struck when your enemy was at his weakest. Very well done indeed!" Hyperion caught Miss America's followup swing. He squeezed his larger hands around Chavez's fist, a look of pure adrenaline in his eyes. With his free hand, Hyperion launched a backhand toward the snared superhuman's cheek.

He estimated that the blow would be likely to land and turned his attention toward Pym. He fired off another pair of concussive energy beams at Ant-Man and chucked his compatriot (if she hadn't found a way to escape in that brief lapse of miliseconds, that is) at subsonic speeds right at him. "Where are the rest of you, by the way? I was told the entire team would be present. I was hoping to go a few rounds with the Norse gods and the armored one as well."
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