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After much noise and confusion, everyone finally made their way inside.
Pan-Universe Culture & Technology Co., Ltd., surprisingly, the interior didn't look half bad.
The suite was small but tidy. A side door led to a modest bedroom, while out front stood a single desk with a boss's chair positioned squarely behind it. On the desk sat a shiny nameplate with the word: Chairman!
To the right of the entrance was a restroom. All in all, two words summed it up nicely: open and clear.
Of course, the very first problem the group ran into was… seating.
There was only one chair in the entire office, the Chairman's own throne. And even Arthur wasn't shameless enough to steal that from the balding Phil sitting before them.
Especially not when the man looked like some weary retired cadre, clutching a cup as he carefully fetched himself hot water. The sight alone could stir pity.
Natasha finally broke the silence, her voice unusually gentle.
"You've worked hard."
"It's nothing," the balding Phil replied, shaking his head. "All for Earth. Though honestly, I didn't expect the lot of you to suddenly show up here. Did you come to take me back home? The language here isn't a problem, but reading and writing… that's where I trip up. No matter where I go, people look at me like I'm a hopeless illiterate."
Everyone's eyes naturally shifted to Arthur.
Arthur coughed lightly. "According to my agreement with Nova Prime, this shouldn't be all they gave you, right?"
"To avoid attention," The man admitted quietly. He paused, then added, "Truth is, this so-called Pan-Universe Culture & Technology Co., Ltd. only exists on paper in Xandar's system. It doesn't actually operate. Even if they gave me some extravagant office, it wouldn't matter. And honestly? Even fetching hot water here takes a few minutes. It's… dull."
Arthur glanced over at Tony, arching an eyebrow. "See? It's not me slacking. The real issue is that your products haven't gone into production yet."
Tony groaned. "Fine. Let's just check things out here first. In a few days, I'll sit down with Nova Prime and remind her of our arrangement. They promised us an information hub. If this--" he gestured around the plain little office "--is all they're giving us, then remember what we did to the Sovereigns? We can do the same thing to Xandar."
The others nodded without hesitation.
Arthur, meanwhile, felt a headache coming on. One victory raid, and suddenly these so-called heroes were acting more like hungry pirates. He sighed internally.
People's hearts really do change. This bunch is getting harder and harder to lead.
The balding Phil, oblivious to Arthur's worries, beckoned them forward. "Come. Let me show you the real secret."
He led them deeper, where the truth emerged: the floors above and below this one actually belonged to Pan-Universe Culture & Technology Co., Ltd. as well.
It was cleverly disguised. Each door on those levels opened into plain, ordinary-looking rooms. But hidden beyond the false walls and floors lay the actual facilities, the real heart of the operation.
From the Phil's office, one could directly access the core system, and from there, maintain secure transmissions back to Earth.
After inspecting everything, Tony still didn't look satisfied. He folded his arms, eyeing the structure thoughtfully.
"Our first move should be to buy out this entire building and make it our official headquarters. As for redesigning the whole place? Leave that to me."
"The real issue is product operations," the balding Phil said gravely. "Right now, everything we have depends entirely on what the Xandarians provide us. Even my salary is covered by them. But if things continue like this, we'll become nothing more than parasites feeding off Xandar. And no civilization will ever tolerate parasites sucking away their lifeblood, not even if those parasites once saved the world."
His words were blunt, but painfully true. Everyone nodded in quiet agreement.
Even Spider-Man, usually the most innocent of the group, spoke up. "He's right. People will love you one day, cheer for you, even say they'd name their kids after you. But the next day? They'll forget. And if the wrong rumor spreads, suddenly you're not a hero anymore. You're a villain. Overnight, people who praised you will happily hold signs protesting you, shouting for you to disappear. All you can do is scrape away the filth they've thrown on you… until they change their minds again."
The room fell even quieter.
That, too, was reality, the cruel truth hidden beneath the glossy image of being a superhero.
Arthur broke the silence at last. "Then what is it? What reason keeps you all going?"
For him, the answer was clear. The looming shadow of Thanos, the ever-present fear of a single snap, had always been one reason. But it wasn't just that. It was also the countless people he'd met on this long road. Yondu had shaped Star-Lord's path, just as others had shaped his. Every encounter, every sacrifice, every bond had pushed him forward, whether he wanted it or not, until he became who he was now.
Arthur's words lingered in the air, and for a moment, no one spoke. The group exchanged glances, each lost in thought.
Finally, Spider-Man offered simply: "With great power comes great responsibility. That's the reason. Whether people accept me or not, I'll keep doing what I should do."
The sincerity in his voice struck like a bell, simple, honest, and unshakable.
Then Banner spoke, adjusting his glasses. "I just… want to stay true to my own beliefs. Hulk was the one who bore everything at the beginning. It wasn't me. For a long time, my only goal was to get rid of him. Later, I realized… I didn't have to. We've been together ever since. Walking a path alone is hard. But with more people beside you? That road suddenly doesn't feel so impossible."
Next was Brock, who raised his hand like a schoolkid. "Uh, I haven't been a superhero that long, so I don't have any deep insights yet… But speaking of which, boss, when are you going to deliver on that promise about starting up my media company?"
Even in a heavy conversation, there was always room for Brock to derail things.
And sure enough, with that, the atmosphere shifted. Instead of ideals and burdens, the room dissolved into chatter about salaries, money-making ventures, and brainstorming the feasibility of outer-space business trips.
That last notion, in particular, caught everyone's imagination.
Up to now, Arthur had been the one to organize every interstellar expedition. But the idea of casually traveling into space on business, of having their own independent system, was intoxicating.
Arthur himself began to picture it: one day, they could have their own dedicated space station. A massive hub, connected to Earth through teleportation arrays. From Camp Lehigh, to the station, and from there… the entire universe within reach.
And if they successfully built something like that, then one day interstellar travel might not be an extraordinary adventure at all, just another trivial piece of everyday life.
(End of Chapter)