The Purple Silk Star was a massive aging star, more than three million kilometers in diameter. Its surface glowed a dull orange, like embers that refused to go out, and five planets circled it in slow, tired orbits.
Judging by its age, the Purple Silk Star had already entered the late stage of its life.
Perhaps because of that, the only planet among the five that had ever nurtured life—Ehe Star—was now on the brink of complete collapse.
Earthquakes tore through its crust almost daily. Volcanoes erupted without warning, spewing ash and lava into the choking skies. Civilization had long since crumbled, and life itself was slowly, stubbornly fading away.
One week later, Ehe Star welcomed its first visitors since the apocalypse.
A small, miniature spaceship pierced the turbulent atmosphere.
It pushed through thick clouds mixed with volcanic ash and glowing streams of lava bursting from the ground below, finally touching down on a relatively flat hillside.
"Sizzle…"
The engines shut down with a tired hiss. The hatch popped open, and a man leapt out with the casual confidence of someone who had absolutely no business being that relaxed.
Yes—an Earthling.
Short brown hair, light-colored eyes, pale skin, and a battered raider uniform that had clearly seen better centuries. He was none other than the infamous Peter Jason Quill.
Star-Lord.
Star-Lord quickly activated his helmet, pulled out a holographic map, and headed straight toward his destination as if this were just another routine job.
About ten minutes later, he arrived at the entrance of a rocky cave and slipped inside.
Which meant he completely missed the moment when a vast, terrifying black shadow silently spread across the sky behind him.
Inside the cave, Star-Lord switched off his helmet, cranked up some music, and began walking deeper in with a loose, swaying gait, occasionally throwing in an exaggerated dance move that would have embarrassed anyone watching.
Inside, the cave was filled with bones.
Skeletons lay scattered across the ground, piled against the walls.
This alone proved that life on this planet hadn't died out too long ago. Otherwise, the remains would have already been eroded into dust by time and disaster.
Judging by the crude patterns painted along the cave walls, intelligent life had once flourished here—but only briefly. They had never reached an advanced technological age.
Because the intelligent species of Ehe Star never reached even a Type I civilization, they had no way to escape their dying world.
And so, almost all life had perished.
Almost.
Occasionally, space pirates passed through this system, looting resources and sometimes abducting survivors along the way. That was the only reason any news of this planet ever escaped into the wider galaxy.
Star-Lord moved easily through the ruins, reached the hidden chamber, and after solving a series of simple puzzles—honestly, a little too simple—claimed his prize.
The Orb of Destiny.
There were no ambushes from alternate timelines. No unexpected multiversal nonsense. He stored the orb away without incident and headed back out of the cave, already mentally celebrating.
The moment he stepped outside, his smile vanished.
His eyes widened, and disbelief froze him in place.
Because in the sky above him loomed a spaceship so enormous it nearly blotted out the heavens.
"Oh… for sale, a dog."
For once, Star-Lord genuinely didn't know what to say.
Faced with a warship of this scale, it was obvious that even if he somehow summoned his father's entire raider fleet, escape would be a fantasy.
As if to make the point clearer, several smaller ships descended from the sky and landed nearby.
With sharp hissing sounds, their hatches opened.
Nebula jumped out first, her expression cold and focused. Behind her followed several members of the Dark Order—humanoid in form, but radiating quiet menace.
More warriors poured out of the other ships.
Within two minutes, Star-Lord found himself surrounded by thousands of soldiers.
Seeing this, he immediately raised both hands.
"Okay, okay, let's all calm down," he said quickly. "I'm just here for a walk. You know—fresh air, light looting, very normal stuff."
Nebula didn't even glance at him.
"Keep an eye on him," she ordered flatly. "The rest of you—search the cave."
With that, she led most of her forces inside.
Star-Lord noticed that only ten soldiers remained behind to guard him.
His eyes darted around. His mind raced.
He wasn't the type to accept his fate quietly. Even cornered, even hopelessly outmatched, Star-Lord always believed there was a way out.
He shifted his weight, preparing to make a move—
Then more spaceships appeared overhead.
Several of them immediately targeted his own ship.
One shot.
That was all it took.
His beloved ship exploded in the air, reduced to blazing debris that rained down in silence.
"Barbie!"
Star-Lord let out a raw, furious shout, grief and rage twisting his face as he stared at the wreckage.
That… hurt.
Barrett was a very cute, strikingly beautiful red-skinned alien woman.
Her appearance might have seemed a little… unconventional to most Earthlings, but Star-Lord had never been picky. His tastes were broad, adventurous, and gloriously free of prejudice.
Before coming here, he and his partner had spent a considerable amount of time being affectionate aboard the spaceship—far more than was strictly necessary for mission readiness. Unfortunately, love has a stamina tax. By the time Star-Lord left, his partner was completely exhausted and decided to stay behind to rest.
That decision cost her life.
Star-Lord didn't even get the chance to process it properly, let alone vent his fury. A sharp crack split the air.
Bang!
An electromagnetic round fired by the surrounding members of the Black Order slammed straight into his chest. The impact was instantaneous—and fatal. Star-Lord collapsed, lifeless, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.
…
Inside Temple Number Two, Thanos watched Star-Lord fall and offered nothing more than a cold, satisfied smile.
He had personally given the order to fire.
What was the point of letting someone like that live if he couldn't be used or subdued? Existence without utility was just wasted air.
Still, something nagged at him.
Star-Lord had emerged from a cave moments earlier. That meant there was a very real chance the Power Stone had been with him.
After a brief pause, Thanos issued another command.
"Bring me his body."
At once, Black Order warriors moved forward, reaching down to retrieve the corpse.
Then—
A sudden flash of blue light burst from Star-Lord's chest.
In the next instant, the fatal wound sealed itself as if it had never existed. His eyes snapped open, glowing with raw energy, his entire body radiating an overwhelming blue aura.
"Ahhh!"
The roar that tore from his throat was primal and furious. A shockwave of power erupted outward, instantly vaporizing everyone nearby—armor, weapons, bodies, all reduced to nothing.
Thanos' eyes narrowed.
As expected. Star-Lord was not so easily killed.
It made sense. As the son of a Celestial, even if his father Ego had once been little more than a malnourished, half-formed being, his bloodline could never produce something truly mortal.
And Star-Lord wasn't just any descendant. He had inherited Ego's most potent traits—along with a vast reserve of terrifying energy.
What was happening now was obvious. On the brink of death, Star-Lord had prematurely awakened that latent power.
After a moment's thought, Thanos turned his head toward Ronan, who stood beside him.
"It's time for you to act."
He hadn't chosen Ronan at random. The Marvel universe was vast and unpredictable, and when Celestials might be watching, caution mattered. Better to let Ronan test the waters.
Otherwise, why bring him along at all? Just for the company?
If the Celestials truly took notice of Star-Lord, Thanos already knew what he would do—abandon Ronan without hesitation and withdraw.
He had good reason for that fear.
In Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Star-Lord had shattered his limits again and again, gone head-to-head with Ego himself, and even managed to destroy an entire planet with what amounted to a glorified bomb. Anyone who claimed the Celestials hadn't quietly intervened was either lying or hopelessly naïve.
Ronan nodded grimly.
"Yes."
Gripping his Kree warhammer, he launched himself downward.
He had already felt the eruption of sub-Celestial-level energy below—and this time, he had no intention of underestimating it.
.....
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