Xenu is unsettling because he barely has a face.

The story gives him fleets, prisons, psychiatrists, tax inspections, hydrogen bombs, and cinemas for the dead. What it does not give him is a body. No height. No expression. No monster-shape to hold in the mind.

He is a bureaucrat with nuclear weapons, a middle manager of genocide. That blankness may be the sharpest horror in the whole myth.