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Xandar. The Lower Commercial District.
The entire sunlit square seemed to have been put on mute.
Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket Raccoon, and Groot stood completely dumbfounded. The heavy, metallic clatter of dropped blasters echoed against the silent paving stones.
Lady Witch?
Who the hell was Yondu calling Lady Witch?
This was the little girl who picked up the fake Orb like a dropped tennis ball. The girl who ran away with the impossible, tireless stamina of a cybernetic cheetah. The girl who just cracked open a multi-billion-unit cosmic artifact like it was a cheap gashapon machine, only to happily claim a plastic troll doll.
Quill's brain short-circuited. His mouth moved faster than his survival instincts. He pointed a trembling finger at Hermione and blurted out, "Wait... she's that Cabbage Witch?!"
The words hung in the air for exactly one microsecond.
SMACK!
No sooner had he finished speaking than an invisible, overwhelming force collided with the side of Quill's face. He was hit as if by a speeding, invisible freight train.
"WAAAH—!"
Quill screamed as he was launched off his feet. He flew dozens of meters through the air in a perfect, parabolic arc, soaring over a fountain before crashing heavily into a meticulously landscaped flowerbed at the edge of the square.
Thud! A massive cloud of dirt, crushed petunias, and dust kicked up into the air. He didn't get up.
Hermione slowly lowered her extended hand. Her face darkened, a terrifying shadow crossing her features as she coldly swept her gaze over the remaining Guardians.
"If anyone," Hermione said, her voice dropping to a freezing, absolute zero, "dares to add any random vegetable prefixes to my title again... I will skip the slapping and throw you directly into outer space. Are we clear?"
Gamora, Rocket, and Groot swallowed hard in unison. Their backs were instantly soaked with cold sweat.
They had almost shouted the ridiculous moniker out loud right along with Quill. Luckily, that star-spangled idiot had been quick-witted enough to speak first and take the invisible slap for the rest of them.
Gamora, however, felt her blood run colder than the others. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints as the title registered in her mind.
She finally realized who this seemingly harmless, dark-haired little girl actually was.
Although this was the first time she had seen her in person, Gamora had heard the hushed, terrified whispers of the "Witch of Terra" more than once from her adoptive father, Thanos. The Mad Titan had analyzed the telemetry of the Battle of New York. He had watched the footage of a petite, adorable girl single-handedly annihilating his entire Chitauri armada with reality-warping flora and apocalyptic fire.
A profound, crushing sense of powerlessness welled up in Gamora's chest.
How did she end up on Xandar? Gamora thought frantically. Aren't these mysterious, powerful Earth mages supposed to be isolationist homebodies who refuse to leave their own realm?
This was a massive problem.
Gamora had originally calculated that even if she were captured by the Nova Corps today, she would easily have a chance to break out of the Kyln using her cybernetic enhancements and combat skills.
But now, standing face-to-face with the legendary "Witch," Gamora's last shred of resistance vanished instantly. She couldn't even muster the slightest desire to reach for her sword. The power gap wasn't a gap; it was an insurmountable, cosmic abyss.
Rocket Raccoon and Groot were equally frightened, though for different reasons. No one expected a legendary, armada-destroying warlord to look like a teenager on a school trip!
"Wow..." Rocket Raccoon whispered, his shock slowly giving way to his innate, obsessive mechanical and biological curiosity. His snout twitched. "Hey, wait a minute. What kind of biotechnology made those giant cabbages anyway? Are they silicon-based or carbon-based? How high is their energy conversion efficiency? Can I get some tissue samples to study—"
SMACK!
A second, crisp sound rang out like a gunshot across the plaza.
"YEEEOUCH!"
Rocket Raccoon followed exactly in Quill's aerodynamic footsteps. He flew backward through the air, landing with pinpoint precision in the exact same flowerbed, right on top of the groaning Star-Lord.
Seeing his loudmouthed companion's fate, Groot wisely zipped his wooden mouth shut. Not a single leaf rustled, though his main branch trembled slightly in fear.
Hermione casually dusted off her hands, acting as if she had merely shooed away two annoying gnats.
Yondu kept his head bowed low, staring intently at the paving stones, seemingly entirely oblivious to the flying mammals and humans around him.
Ten Minutes Later.
Quill and Rocket Raccoon were dragged out of the flowerbed by the scruffs of their necks. Their faces were bruised, swollen, and covered in dirt. Together with a deeply compliant Gamora and Groot, they were slapped into specially manufactured, yellow energy-suppressing handcuffs by the Nova Corps.
General Roman rushed to the scene, his cape billowing behind him. His sharp gaze fell on the four restrained prisoners. When he saw the green-skinned Zehoberei woman, a look of extreme solemnity flashed in his eyes.
"Thanos's adopted daughter... Gamora," General Roman stepped forward, scrutinizing her closely. His tone was filled with awe and astonishment. "The most dangerous woman in the universe. I never expected to capture you on Xandar."
Gamora: "..."
She slowly turned her head to look at Hermione, who was casually standing in the background, examining her new troll doll. Gamora looked back at Roman with a blank, deadpan expression, her eyes seeming to ask: Are you absolutely sure I'm the most dangerous woman in the universe right now?
Quill, sporting a massive, swelling black eye, watched as General Roman focused solely on Gamora, completely ignoring him. His bruised ego couldn't take it. He immediately began to complain in dissatisfaction.
"Hey! What about me?!" Quill yelled, struggling against the glowing cuffs. "Peter Quill! Star-Lord! Ever heard of him? The famous Star-Lord! Why are you only talking about the green lady? What about my rap sheet?!"
General Roman frowned, glancing at the battered, dirt-covered man out of the corner of his eye. He spoke in a flat, thoroughly unimpressed tone. "What title? Never heard of it. Take them away to the holding cells!"
Quill: "..."
It's not very harmful physically, Quill thought miserably, but it is extremely insulting.
Just as the four were about to be marched into the armored transport vehicles, Yondu stepped forward. He gave a sharp salute to the Nova officer. "General, I would like to speak with Quill alone for a moment before processing."
General Roman paused. He glanced at Yondu, then looked over at Hermione for permission. Hermione gave a subtle nod.
"Very well," Roman said. "You have five minutes."
The Holding Cell.
Soon, Quill was shoved into a small, temporarily isolated, sterile white interrogation room.
Yondu walked in, the heavy door sliding shut behind him. Seeing Quill's indignant, bruised expression, Yondu didn't mince words. He got straight to the point.
"Where is the real Orb, boy? Where is it hidden?"
Quill scoffed, leaning back in his metal chair. "I don't know what you're talking about, old man! The one I picked up in the temple on Morag was real! Who knew it contained a stupid, broken troll doll?!"
Yondu gave him a deep, piercing look. It was a look that seemed to drill right through Quill's ribcage.
He knew this boy. He had raised him from a whimpering, terrified child. He knew Quill could lie without batting an eye to a stranger, but those cheap little smuggler tricks were useless against the man who taught him how to cheat in the first place.
"Snort."
Yondu snorted coldly. He stopped asking questions. He knew Quill had stashed it on his ship. Yondu turned on his heel to leave.
"Hey! Yondu!" Quill cried out urgently, dropping the tough-guy act as he realized the pirate was actually leaving him. "Aren't you going to help me out of here? Break me out? We've at least got history!"
"Get you out?"
Yondu stopped and turned around, his red eyes narrowing. "The Witch said you should use this time in prison to sober up. You're going to the Kyln."
"Come on!" Quill pleaded. "I know you've been taken hostage by her! Why didn't you just sneak away? You have your ship! You have the Yaka arrow!"
"Run?"
Yondu seemed to have heard a hilarious, terrifying joke. A vivid hint of pure fear flashed in his eyes. The horrific image of his twenty-eight mutinous crewmen, collapsing into cold corpses without a single drop of blood spilled, involuntarily flashed in his mind.
He shook his head, his tone incredibly complicated. "If a dog doesn't run away, it can be kept as a useful pet. If it runs away... it is immediately reclassified as prey."
He paused, looking at Quill's deeply puzzled expression, and sighed.
"And at first, yes, we were indeed coerced by her. But as time went on... we found that this Witch is actually quite loyal to her own people. As long as we don't cross her absolute bottom line or question her decisions... she never interferes with our freedom."
Yondu recalled his recent, bizarre experience of "assisting in maintaining order" on Xandar. Although it sounded completely absurd for a Ravager, it had actually allowed his crew to live a stable, highly profitable, and peaceful life they had never known before. They had power, respect, and zero fear of the Nova Corps.
"With such an unfathomable, god-like backer protecting me, I can openly move around on core planets, drink in the best bars, and do things for her. What's wrong with that arrangement?"
Yondu shrugged, adjusting his red coat. "It's a hell of a lot better than living on the edge in deep space all the time, constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting to get caught by the Kree or stabbed in the back by my own men, right?"
Quill fell completely silent, stunned by Yondu's pragmatic surrender.
Yondu said nothing more. He turned and walked out of the room, the door hissing shut behind him.
The Strategy.
After Quill, Gamora, and the others were loaded into the transport and escorted away to the Kyln, Yondu approached Hermione on the plaza.
He leaned in and whispered respectfully, "Sir. I know Quill too well. He's lying. He definitely hid the real Cosmic Orb on his ship, the Milano."
Hermione was casually munching on a crisp, red apple she had pulled out from who-knows-where. She mumbled an "Mmm," swallowed, and said plainly, "I know."
Yondu paused, somewhat surprised. "You know? Then... why did you let the Nova Corps put him in jail? Why not just Legilimens him, find out where his ship is parked, and take the real ball?"
Knowing Hermione's terrifying magical capabilities as he did, breaking Quill's mind or preventing him from going to prison altogether would be an incredibly easy, trivial thing for her to do.
Hermione took another bite of her apple, offering a dark, meaningful smile. "Because, Moore... I'm not the only player on the board who wants the Cosmic Orb."
She casually tossed the apple core into a nearby disintegration bin.
"It's far too much trouble to hunt down Ronan the Accuser, Nebula, and Thanos's lackeys one by one across the galaxy. Let Quill stay in the Kyln. It's the perfect, highly publicized bait box. When word gets out that he's there, we will let all the rats hiding in the shadows jump out into the open to fight for the Orb."
Hermione's smile widened, but there was absolutely no warmth in her dark eyes. "I'll let them converge. And then... I'll deal with them all at once."
"Those who want to touch what I have claimed," Hermione whispered, the air around her chilling slightly, "won't get away with it."
Yondu grinned, a wicked pirate smile showing his metallic teeth. It was a brilliant, ruthless trap.
He asked cautiously, shifting his weight, "And... Quill...?"
Hermione glanced at him and said calmly, "Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't die. I need him alive to open the vault."
Yondu breathed a massive sigh of relief. Although Peter Quill was a disobedient, arrogant idiot who constantly caused him trouble, Yondu was still the man who had raised him from a boy. He still harbored a deep, paternal affection for the Star-Lord.
However, Hermione's next, seemingly casual words made Yondu's heart leap straight into his throat. His pupils contracted sharply, and a look of absolute, unadulterated terror washed over his blue face.
"Oh, right," Hermione asked casually, looking at her fingernails as if she had just remembered something trivial.
"By the way, Moore... do you know a Celestial named Ego?"