Two months later.
After absorbing an entire giant planet, Thanos hovered in the void, gazing at a distant star that shimmered like a cold ember. A sudden thought flickered through his mind.
If planets provided energy through their cores… then stars should contain far more terrifying power.
And now, his body should be able to handle it.
Probably.
He quickly opened his personal attributes panel.
Physical Condition: 0.4Strength: 0.1Agility: 0.5Mental Strength: 0.4
Active Skill: World-Destroying Power
Passive Skills: Titan Bloodline, Super Regeneration, Super Constitution, Super Strength, Super Agility, Powerful Spirit, Tough Skin
Active Skills: Ruler, Star Absorption Technique
Equipment: Tyrant's Blade, Tyrant's Armor, Infinity Gauntlet, Power Stone, Mind Stone
After this period of training, his strength had undergone a qualitative leap. The numbers barely told the story anymore.
If Odin were to stand in front of him now, Thanos was confident the All-Father wouldn't survive a single blow. Attribute panels couldn't properly account for stacked bloodlines, skill multipliers, and the sheer unfairness of his growth.
Just as he was about to move toward the star and test the Star Absorption Technique, a notification flashed into his mind.
"Master, it appears Miss Gamora has reached the outer edge of the Laniakea Supercluster," Deep Blue reported.
Thanos paused.
The star would have to wait.
A strange unease tugged at him—an inexplicable feeling that someone, somewhere, might interfere with his attempt to claim the Soul Stone. The sensation irritated him.
A warning? From whom?
He shook his head slightly. His mental strength had exceeded fifty thousand, but prophecy and precognition were not among his talents. There was no logical reason for this feeling to exist at all.
Was this interference malicious… or some twisted form of help?
After a brief moment of thought, Thanos made his decision.
If he intended to fulfill Death's mission, all six Infinity Stones were non-negotiable.
The next instant, his figure vanished.
Temple Number Two.
"Deep Blue, set course immediately."
"Yes, Master."
"On the way," Thanos added after a beat, "stop by the nearby planetary belt. Collect ten thousand—no, one hundred thousand—couples."
Deep Blue paused for exactly one nanosecond."Yes, Master. I'm sure they'll be grateful."
…
Three hundred million light-years away from the Milky Way.
Rocket Raccoon leaned back in the pilot's seat, one paw on the controls as his ship drifted toward a solitary star.
Normally, celestial bodies weren't loners. Stars clustered, danced, orbited black holes together like cosmic herds. Even the most distant stars were rarely more than a hundred light-years apart.
But the star ahead of them?
It wandered alone.
No nearby stars. No galactic orbit. Just a silent, stubborn glow cutting through endless darkness.
After half a year of travel, even Rocket's patience was wearing thin.
"Gamora," he muttered, squinting at the display, "you sure there's an Infinity Stone out here? Because this place looks like the universe forgot it existed."
In the rear cabin, Gamora finished her set and lowered the dumbbells with a quiet exhale. Sweat trickled down her green forehead as she straightened up.
"Based on everything I've tracked over the past few decades," she said, rubbing her temples, "it should be on that desolate star."
Should being the key word.
Star-Lord lounged nearby, headphones on, pretending to listen to music while very obviously not missing a single detail.
"Don't stop," he said cheerfully. "You're doing great."
Ignoring him, Gamora wiped the sweat from her face and headed downstairs.
It had to be said—green skin aside, Gamora's beauty was hard to ignore. Her movements were powerful and fluid, her abs sharply defined, her athletic figure clinging to her tight outfit thanks to sweat. The fabric left very little to the imagination, which Star-Lord noticed. Repeatedly.
Her long wine-red hair stuck slightly to her neck, framing a face that could have stopped traffic on half the planets in the galaxy.
They'd already slept together more times than Star-Lord could count, but somehow, it still felt unfair that he wasn't allowed to stare openly.
His eyes lit up.
Without hesitation, he followed her downstairs.
Some habits, after all, were impossible to break.
After all, two months was a long time to be trapped in a tin can pretending to be a spaceship. Even the most disciplined crew would go a little stir-crazy. Monotony, like space radiation, really needed some seasoning.
That was when Rocket Raccoon suddenly shouted, voice cutting through the cabin like a blaster shot.
"Unidentified spacecraft detected—one thousand kilometers out. Everybody up! Battle stations!"
Barely a minute later, Gamora and Star-Lord came sprinting in, faces slightly flushed and clothes suspiciously neat, as if they'd leapt into action a second faster than dignity allowed.
Drax, still gloriously shirtless, grabbed his twin short swords and looked thrilled. Clearly, this counted as cardio.
Only Groot remained where he was, unmoving, unbothered, and possibly asleep with his eyes open.
Gamora stepped forward and leaned over the passenger console, eyes scanning the display. A second later, her expression darkened.
"That's Nebula's ship," she said quietly. "I didn't think she'd find us this fast."
If she had to list the people she least wanted to meet in the entire universe, her father was at the top—and her sister was a painfully close second.
They'd been sisters for decades. Gamora had already made peace with betraying her father. Betraying Nebula, though? That was another wound entirely.
Rocket's eyes lit up like someone had just promised him free explosives.
"So, what's the plan?" he asked eagerly. "We fly over and say hello… or we fly over and say hello with cannon fire?"
With ten small fortunes practically waving at him from the future, excitement was unavoidable. Asking Rocket to walk away from that would've been crueler than spacing him.
So retreat was clearly not on the table.
Before Gamora could finish weighing her conscience, Star-Lord clapped his hands and said, "Charge. Take out the engine—no killing."
It was the gentlest solution his brain could produce under pressure.
After all, Nebula was Gamora's sister. Killing her would shred Gamora's heart—and probably make the rest of the trip unbearably awkward.
Gamora nodded. She could live with that decision.
What happened to Nebula after being stranded in the middle of nowhere? Not her problem. At least not today.
Unfortunately, mercy was not a two-way agreement.
Before the Milano could even close the distance, Nebula's ship fired first—a laser blast screaming through space.
A normal pilot would've thrown up shields immediately.
Rocket Raccoon was not a normal pilot.
He shoved the engines to full throttle, yanked the controls hard left, and skimmed past the blast by a hair's breadth. The counterattack came instantly, precise and vicious.
The Guardians of the Galaxy might have questionable morals, but they were terrifyingly good at what they did.
After several sharp exchanges, Nebula's ship took a direct hit to the engine. Power sputtered, then died.
Moments later, a blinking icon appeared on the console.
"Incoming transmission," Gamora said.
The projection flared to life, revealing Nebula's blue face—tight with rage, eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"I knew it was you, Gamora," Nebula snapped. "So this is it? You're betraying Father?"
Gamora straightened, her voice steady but heavy.
"Sister… do you really think Father is right? Under his rule, people don't live—they endure. No freedom. No happiness. Can't you see that?"
Even now, she was reaching out.
Nebula's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.
"Freedom? Happiness?" she scoffed. "In this universe, surviving is hard enough. Wanting more than that is just another way to die."
.....
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