Thanos lowered his gaze to the Power Stone in his hand. The gem pulsed steadily, radiating raw, terrifying energy, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Slowly, deliberately, he clenched his fist around it.
A surge of black energy erupted instantly, wrapping around his massive frame like living smoke. It seeped into his body through every pore, every opening, sinking into him as though it had finally found a proper home.
In the next instant, a violent flood of power detonated inside him.
The Power Stone carried no inherent attributes—it was pure, unrestrained energy, capable of becoming anything its wielder desired. The moment it entered Thanos's body, it transformed seamlessly into destructive force, amplifying his physical strength to terrifying new heights.
"Ahhh!"
A deep, thunderous roar tore from his throat. The shockwave blasted outward, rippling the air like an explosion.
An overwhelming aura followed, crushing down on everything nearby.
One by one, the members of the Black Order were forced to their knees, their bodies trembling under the pressure. Even Ronan staggered, his legs bending involuntarily. Only by slamming his Kree warhammer into the floor did he manage to stay upright.
Even so, the shock in his eyes was impossible to hide.
The pressure was suffocating—so absolute that it made him feel smaller than an ant. It was as if a single wrong move, a single moment of defiance, would result in his body being crushed into nothing.
But Ronan clenched his teeth and endured.
He was the Accuser of the Kree. Kneeling here would not shame just himself—it would shame the Empire. No matter how violently his legs trembled, he refused to bow.
After a long moment, the Power Stone finally seemed to accept Thanos as its master. The raging energy gradually calmed, sinking quietly into his body.
Thanos opened his eyes.
With a casual motion, he lifted the Power Stone and embedded it into the Infinity Gauntlet on his left hand.
He looked down at the glove, now holding two Infinity Stones, their light gleaming ominously against the metal. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.
"I'm getting closer," he murmured.
How powerful would I become once all six stones are mine?
Then his gaze drifted to the empty space where Star-Lord had vanished earlier. His expression turned thoughtful, faintly suspicious.
Who exactly was that unknown existence?
Ego… Star-Lord's biological father?
Or some other Celestial being hiding in the shadows?
After a moment, Thanos dismissed the thought. There was no point obsessing over unanswered questions.
Once he possessed all six Infinity Stones, even the entire Celestial race would have nothing to make him fear.
…
Ten days passed in the blink of an eye.
More than a hundred warships emerged from hyperspace, appearing one million kilometers away from Xandar. At the front of the formation was Ronan's flagship and his fleet, with Sanctuary II and Thanos's armada following close behind.
Inside his command vessel, Ronan stared at Xandar's image projected in full 3D. His heart pounded with anticipation as he imagined the planet burning—its beautiful surface reduced to ash. In his mind, he could already see the vengeance he had waited years to deliver.
Just then, an incoming call request flashed onto the projection.
The sender: the Supreme Accuser of the Kree Empire—his superior.
Ronan's expression darkened instantly.
He knew exactly why she was calling. The Kree Empire had signed a peace treaty with Xandar to focus all its strength on the war against the Skrulls. They would never approve of this invasion.
But Ronan didn't care.
He refused to accept that his father and his people had died for nothing. If the Empire would not seek justice, then he would do it himself.
After a brief hesitation, he accepted the call.
This was no longer a request—it was a declaration. A final notice that war was coming.
The projection flickered, and a blue-skinned woman with brown hair appeared. Her expression was icy, clearly furious.
"Ronan," she demanded, "where are you? The Xandarian government is protesting, claiming you've invaded their star system. Explain yourself."
Ronan shook his head slowly. "Supreme Accuser," he said, his voice low, "do you remember how my father died?"
Without waiting for her reply, he continued, his words sharpening with every sentence.
"Those despicable Xandarians bypassed our defense systems and dropped planet-destroying missiles on our world."
"On that day, ninety-nine percent of our population died."
"My father. My grandfather. Every member of my family."
The Supreme Accuser's expression wavered, and she spoke after a pause. "I know the Xandarians were wrong to launch that sneak attack. But we are currently engaged in a full-scale war with the Skrulls. The Empire cannot afford to open a second front. You must understand our position."
Ronan's eyes narrowed.
Instead of answering, he continued quietly, "Do you know how I survived?"
"They were my family—my father, my mother, my grandfather, my clan. One hundred and thirty-seven people."
"They piled themselves around my shelter, shielding it with their own bodies. That is the only reason the world-destroying flames didn't consume me."
"If not for them," he said coldly, "I would have died that day."
His gaze hardened, burning with hatred.
"How could I not seek revenge for a debt like that?"
After saying that, he ignored the Supreme Accuser's furious shouts and cut the communication without a second thought.
In the movies and comics, Ronan's hatred is mostly skimmed over, treated like a footnote rather than a wound. No one ever really explains what he went through back then, or what it cost him.
And honestly, telling someone to "do good" without having lived through their suffering is just empty noise.
It was safe to say that no one in the galaxy truly understood what Ronan had endured, much less the emotions boiling inside him. That kind of hatred didn't fade with time. It didn't soften. It couldn't be reasoned with.
For him, it was a deadlock that would only break when one side was destroyed.
At that moment, a new call request flickered to life on the mid-air projection.
Thanos.
Ronan didn't hesitate. He accepted immediately.
The next second, Thanos's massive purple face filled the projection, his expression unreadable as ever.
"Ronan," Thanos said calmly, "the Kree Empire doesn't know you've come to Xandar for revenge, does it?"
Time had dulled even Thanos's memory. Many of the details from the Marvel storylines had slipped through the cracks. At first, he hadn't realized that Ronan's assault on Xandar was never sanctioned by the Kree Empire to begin with.
If Ronan hadn't contacted him earlier, Thanos would still be completely in the dark about the whole scheme.
Ronan nodded without hesitation. "Yes. Is Lord Thanos having second thoughts?"
By this point, Ronan had already made up his mind. If Thanos refused to help, he would go to Xandar alone.
He would pay any price.
Even his life.
Hearing this, Thanos slowly shook his head. "This is a promise I made to you," he said evenly. "Not to the Kree Empire. What they think is irrelevant."
Ronan's eyes burned with restrained excitement. "Thank you, Lord Thanos."
The projection vanished, and silence settled in once more.
Thanos leaned back into his throne, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest, his gaze distant and calculating.
The galaxy cluster they occupied was known as the Virgo Supercluster—spanning roughly 110 million light-years and housing over two thousand galaxies. Control of this vast region was divided among three great empires and ten major alliances.
The three empires were the Skrull Empire, the Kree Empire, and the Shia Empire.
That alone was proof of just how terrifyingly powerful the Kree Empire truly was.
As for the ten alliances—the Merchant Alliance, Pirate Alliance, Mercenary Alliance, Wanderer Alliance, Extraordinary Alliance, Gods Alliance, Peace Alliance, Raider Alliance, Adventurer Alliance, and Warblade Alliance—each was made up of countless independent factions banded together for survival.
In a universe this brutal, strength alone wasn't enough. You needed allies. You needed numbers. You needed someone watching your back while you sharpened the knife.
Xandar, for example, was merely one faction within the Peace Alliance.
If he could stir the Peace Alliance and the Skrull Empire into jointly opposing the Kree Empire… then chaos would follow.
And chaos was opportunity.
Only when the universe was in turmoil could he expand his influence freely. Otherwise, no matter how powerful he became, he would always have to consider the risk of others uniting against him.
Of course, if his strength ever reached the level of a single universe—or even the multiverse—alliances and coalitions would mean nothing.
But for now?
He was only at the Godfather level.
And that was precisely why he hadn't refused Ronan.
.....
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