For 50 + advance chapter: patreon.com/Snowing_Melody
Xandar. The Golden Skiff.
"Ego?"
Yondu's voice cracked. He sounded as if he had just heard a forbidden, cursed incantation. He stumbled backward, his red eyes wide with sudden, primal terror. "Witch... why did you suddenly bring him up?"
Hermione sat comfortably in the pilot's seat, watching Yondu's blue face drain of color. A slight, knowing smile played on her lips.
"Do you really think I couldn't see it?" Hermione asked softly, casually tossing the plastic troll doll she had taken from the fake Orb from hand to hand. "I am highly attuned to magical and cosmic signatures. The moment I looked at Peter Quill, I saw the anomaly. A mortal human shell containing half the genetic sequence of a Celestial."
Yondu was shell-shocked. She knows. She actually knew that Quill was the spawn of a god!
"Don't be nervous, Moore," Hermione said, setting the doll on the dashboard. "I have absolutely no interest in your ancient history, your kidnapping contracts, or whatever daddy issues Quill has with Ego."
Hermione finally raised her head. A sharp, predatory glint shone in her dark eyes.
"I just want to know where his planetary coordinates are. Because Ego has something I want."
Upon hearing this, Yondu felt a slight, twisted sense of relief. At least she wasn't punishing him for taking the boy. But that relief was instantly swallowed by dread.
Years ago, Ego the Living Planet had hired Yondu's Ravager clan to go to Earth and retrieve young Peter. At the time, Ego was wearing a friendly, human-shaped avatar, pretending to be a grieving, loving father searching for his missing heir. He paid lavishly and showed no signs of malice.
But Yondu had seen the truth.
When Yondu had delivered previous children to Ego's core, he had seen the caverns. The endless, mountainous piles of small, white bones. He realized then just how cruel and utterly insane the Celestial was. Ego had systematically slaughtered every single one of his offspring who hadn't inherited the Celestial light, treating them like failed batteries.
So, in a rare, uncharacteristic moment of compassion, Yondu had broken the Ravager code. Instead of handing the terrified Earth boy over to the slaughterhouse, he had kept Quill, raised him as a pirate, and fled into the deep cosmos.
It was better to let the galaxy think he was a ruthless child-trafficker than to let that kid meet his father.
"Lady Witch..." Yondu swallowed hard, carefully considering his tone. He didn't want to anger her, but he had to warn her. "What could you possibly want with Ego?"
"Like I said," Hermione replied, tracing a rune on her wand. "He has something I require. A core. A spark. However, knowing his nature, he might not be willing to give it to me voluntarily. So, I will have to extract it myself."
Yondu understood. Anything that caught the eye of this terrifying, armada-destroying Witch must be an artifact of unimaginable power.
He took a deep, trembling breath and lowered his voice. "Witch... Ego is not to be trifled with. Very not to be trifled with."
Although Yondu knew Hermione's terrifying strength and had seen her vaporize men with a thought, he was genuinely unsure how she would fare against a Celestial.
"He isn't a guy in a ship," Yondu warned. "He is an ancient god. He has lived for millions of years. He is an entire, living planet!"
Hermione merely smiled. "Good. I've never dismantled a planet before. It will be a fun challenge."
Yondu realized her decisions were absolute. He could only silently pray that Quill wouldn't be dragged into the crossfire.
The Breakout.
Soon after, a flashing, high-priority transmission blinked on the Nova Corps comms channel Hermione had tapped into.
Alert. Code Red at the Kyln. High-value inmates Peter Quill, Gamora, Subject 89P13, Groot, and Drax the Destroyer have breached containment. Suspects have commandeered a confiscated vessel (The Milano) and fled the sector.
Hermione read the scrolling holographic text and merely raised an eyebrow, looking exactly as if she had planned it.
She turned to Yondu. "Right on schedule. Let's go, Moore. Set coordinates for the Void."
Yondu's heart skipped a beat. "Yes, Boss."
Moments later, the sleek, golden Asgardian spaceship silently departed the Xandar orbital port, tearing a hole in spacetime and speeding into the dark depths of the cosmos.
Knowhere. The Void.
It was an extremely special, macabre location in the universe.
From a distance, it appeared as a colossal, hollowed-out skull floating aimlessly in the stardust. It was the severed head of an ancient Celestial being, decapitated eons ago in a forgotten cosmic war. Dim, sickly yellow lights flickered in its hollow eye sockets.
As the ship drew closer, the sheer, terrifying scale of the skull became apparent. The inside of the dead god's head had been transformed into a massive, chaotic, and desire-filled free port.
Countless mining tunnels and scaffolding extended deep into the bone and brain tissue, brightly lit by neon signs and teeming with illicit activity. Mining pods buzzed around the skull like flies on a carcass, harvesting precious spinal fluid and organic matter to sell on the black market.
This place—Knowhere—was completely outside the jurisdiction of any interstellar empire. It was the most lawless place in the galaxy, a cyberpunk nightmare built inside a corpse. It was a paradise for smugglers, assassins, and space pirates.
The entity who controlled the entire Void was none other than the famous, eccentric billionaire: Taneleer Tivan, The Collector.
The Collector's Museum.
Inside a towering, heavily armored building in the central cortex of the skull, the atmosphere was thick with strange, exotic incense. The room was lined with thousands of illuminated glass cages containing rare beasts, forgotten artifacts, and sentient slaves.
Taneleer Tivan, dressed in a flamboyant white fur cape, gazed at the heavy metal Cosmic Orb resting on his velvet table. A frantic flicker of pure, unadulterated greed burned deep in his ancient eyes.
Standing opposite him were the escaped convicts: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, and the heavily tattooed Drax the Destroyer.
After escaping the Kyln and forming a reluctant, highly dysfunctional alliance, Quill had retrieved the real Cosmic Orb from his ship's hidden compartment and headed straight for the highest paying buyer in the Void.
"Collector," Quill said, puffing out his chest and feigning ultimate composure, though inwardly his palms were sweating. "The goods have been delivered, as requested."
This was Quill's first time standing face-to-face with a cosmic titan like Tivan. The sheer wealth and weirdness of the room was intimidating.
Tivan raised his head. His gaze swept over the motley crew, lingering briefly on Groot with a collector's hunger, before settling back on the metal Orb. A hint of profound satisfaction flashed in his eyes.
"Magnificent," Tivan whispered. He looked up at Quill. "Tell me, young Star-Lord... how much do you want for it?"
Quill took a deep breath. He thought of the most ridiculous, astronomical, untouchable number his brain could comprehend.
"Five billion Units!" Quill declared, crossing his arms.
"Deal," Tivan agreed instantly, not even blinking.
Quill froze. His jaw dropped slightly. "Ah?"
He wondered if the translator implant in his neck was malfunctioning. Did he just say deal? Just like that?
The next second, the horrific realization of basic economics washed over him. He was filled with immediate, crushing regret.
Oh no! The offer was too low! I should have said fifty billion! I should have asked for a moon!
He glanced instinctively at Gamora. The green-skinned assassin rolled her eyes so hard she nearly strained a muscle, utterly speechless at his amateur, money-grubbing stupidity.
Tivan seemed to see right through Quill's internal panic. He smiled, a thin, unsettling expression.
"Young man," Tivan explained smoothly, putting on a pair of specialized, thick-lensed goggles. "Cosmic treasures of this magnitude cannot be measured in mere currency. Five billion, fifty billion... it is just a symbolic number. It simply represents my 'sincerity' in acquiring the Orb."
He picked up a set of metallic tongs. "If you feel it is not enough, I can easily add more."
"That's great!" Quill blurted out, greed overriding his confusion. But he couldn't help but ask the burning question. "Sir... what exactly is inside this thing? What makes it worth that much?"
Tivan smiled mysteriously. He placed the heavy metal Orb onto a specially constructed, automated mechanical pedestal.
The machine whirred to life. Laser cutters and magnetic locks engaged. Slowly, the interlocking halves of the metal sphere began to twist and pull apart.
In an instant, a blinding, terrifyingly beautiful purple light burst forth from the crack, instantly illuminating the dark museum and casting long, sharp shadows across the room.
A raw, uncut gemstone, shimmering with volatile, destructive purple energy, lay suspended in the center of the magnetic field. The moment it was exposed, a low, heart-pounding hum filled the air. Everyone in the room felt the hair on their arms stand up. The sheer, naked power radiating from the stone was physically oppressive.
"Behold," Tivan whispered, his voice trembling with religious fervor. "One of the six Infinity Stones."
He turned to the awestruck crew. "The Power Stone."
"What is that?" Quill stared at the dazzling purple light. He felt a terrifying, primal instinct screaming at him to run away. His heart hammered in his chest.
Tivan walked toward a holographic projector, activating an ancient, golden display.
"At the beginning of the universe," Tivan narrated, the holograms showing the Big Bang, "there was nothing. Then... boom. The universe was born. And the remnants of six singularities were forged into concentrated ingots. Six Infinity Stones. Space. Reality. Power. Soul. Mind. And Time."
He gestured to the purple gem. "They possess boundless, infinite power. Only beings of immense, extraordinary strength can even hold them without being instantly incinerated."
Tivan was in a fantastic mood. He had secured the ultimate prize, and he patiently explained the lore to the petty thieves without his usual haughty arrogance.
Apart from Gamora, everyone else was completely stunned, awestruck by the sheer scale of this grand cosmic secret. This tiny, glowing rock contains enough power to wipe out a planet?
Tivan turned, his specialized goggles reflecting the purple light. He pointed a long, bony finger at the green-skinned assassin.
"The lady next to you, however," Tivan said meaningfully, "should know very well what this is. It seems she did not tell her new friends the whole truth."
Quill tore his eyes away from the stone and looked at Gamora with a deeply betrayed, puzzled expression. "Gamora?"
Gamora sighed helplessly. She closed her eyes for a second. Knowing that the secret was out and she could no longer hide her true motives, she confessed.
"He is right," Gamora said, her voice hard. "I do know what this is. I was sent by my father, Thanos, to assist Ronan the Accuser in stealing the Power Stone from Morag."
Quill stepped back, his hand hovering near his blaster. "You set us up?"
"No!" Gamora snapped. "I experienced the dangerous, apocalyptic power of these Stones firsthand. I saw what Thanos intends to do with them. So, I decided to betray him. I planned to steal the Orb and sell it to the Collector, to ensure it never falls into the hands of Thanos or Ronan."
She looked at Quill, her eyes pleading for him to understand the stakes. "If Ronan gets this stone... the entire universe will face a catastrophe. Billions will die. Starting with Xandar."