The moment those words left Gamora's lips, the entire group went dead silent.
Everyone turned to stare at her, their faces cycling through confusion, surprise, and growing concern. The weight of what she'd just said—that Thanos was actively collecting the Infinity Stones—hung in the air like a ticking bomb.
"Wait, hold up," Star-Lord said, holding up his hands. "Back up a second. You're telling us that your psycho adoptive dad is going around the galaxy collecting these space death rocks? Like, on purpose?"
"That's..." Rocket's ears flattened against his head. "That's really, really bad news, isn't it?"
"I am Groot," Groot rumbled, his wooden features creased with worry.
"Yeah, buddy, I'm thinking the same thing," Rocket muttered, running his paws through his fur nervously. "If someone that scary wants to collect all of these things..."
Drax crossed his massive arms, his scarred face serious for once. "The Destroyer of Worlds seeks ultimate power. This explains much about his actions."
They all looked expectantly at Gamora, waiting for her to explain the full scope of what they were dealing with. But before she could speak, she found herself staring at Marcus with wide, surprised eyes.
"How do you know about that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanos never exactly advertised his plans. Even among his followers, only his most trusted inner circle knew about the Stones."
Marcus tilted his head slightly, studying her with those unsettling pale eyes. "You mean you don't know what he really is?"
"What he really is?" Gamora's brow furrowed. "He's Thanos the Mad Titan. Everyone in the galaxy knows that much."
"Mad Titan, sure," Marcus said with a slight shrug. "But that's just a title. What he actually is... well, that's much more interesting."
The group leaned in closer, even Quill looking intrigued despite having no context for any of this.
"He's one of the last survivors of the Eternals," Marcus said casually, like he was commenting on the weather.
The word hit the group like a physical blow. Gamora actually took a step back, her green skin paling slightly.
"Eternals?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "That's... that's impossible. I've been with him for years. I've heard every story about his past, every legend. No one ever mentioned—"
"Most people don't know about them," Marcus interrupted. "And why would they? The Eternals weren't exactly big on publicity."
Star-Lord raised his hand like he was in school. "Uh, sorry, but what the hell are the Eternals? Because that sounds like something I should probably know about if we're dealing with one."
"Yeah," Rocket chimed in, his tail twitching anxiously. "And why should we be worried about some old race? I mean, if they're all dead except for purple chin guy, how dangerous could they be?"
Marcus let out a dry laugh. "The Eternals were created as protectors. Guardians, you might say. Their job was to watch over and protect developing worlds until... well, until a certain cosmic event could take place."
"What kind of cosmic event?" Gamora demanded, her hand instinctively moving to her sword.
"The birth of new Celestials."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Even those who didn't fully understand the implications could tell from Marcus's tone that this was something monumental.
"Celestials," Quill said slowly, his mind racing. "As in, those massive cosmic beings that are basically gods?"
"The very same," Marcus nodded. "See, Celestials don't just spawn out of nothing. They're planted as seeds inside planets, where they gestate for millions of years, feeding off the life energy of the world's population. When they're ready to be born..." He made a small explosive gesture with his hands. "Bye-bye planet."
"That's..." Star-Lord's voice cracked. "That's horrible."
"I am Groot!" Groot said urgently.
"Yeah, Groot's right," Rocket translated, though his voice was shaky. "That's completely insane! You're telling us there are cosmic parasites growing inside planets?"
Drax's expression had gone from serious to thunderous. "And the Eternals were supposed to protect these... abominations?"
"That was the idea," Marcus confirmed. "The Eternals were programmed to ensure nothing interfered with the Celestials' development. They'd guide civilizations, prevent extinctions, make sure there were always enough people around to feed the growing Celestial."
Gamora felt like the ground was shifting under her feet. "But Thanos... he destroys civilizations. He wipes out half of every population he encounters. That's the opposite of protection."
Marcus's smile was grim. "Exactly. Somewhere along the way, Thanos figured out what was really happening. He discovered that his entire race, his entire purpose, was to be space livestock farmers. And he decided he wasn't okay with that."
"So he's trying to prevent the births," Quill said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "By reducing populations, he's starving the Celestials in their eggs."
"In the most brutal way possible, yes," Marcus nodded. "Don't get me wrong—his methods are absolutely horrible. But his goal? Preventing the deaths of entire worlds when Celestials emerge? That's actually noble, in a twisted way."
Star-Lord ran his hands through his hair. "This is insane. You're telling me the biggest monster in the galaxy is actually trying to save it?"
"The universe is complicated like that," Marcus said with a shrug. "Sometimes the villain of one story is the hero of another."
The group stood in stunned silence, processing this revelation. Finally, Gamora found her voice.
"If that's true... if he's really trying to prevent Celestial births... then why does he need the Infinity Stones? Why not just continue what he's already doing?"
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Think about it. He's one Eternal against an entire cosmic system that's been running for millions of years. How long do you think he can keep up his current approach? How many worlds can one person save before he gets overwhelmed, or killed, or just burns out?"
"But with the Stones..." Quill said slowly.
"With all six Infinity Stones, he could accomplish his goal instantly. One snap of his fingers, and he could reduce the population of the entire universe by half. No more armies to maintain, no more planets to conquer one by one. Just... done."
The implications hit them like a freight train. Gamora looked like she might be sick.
"And he'd think he was saving everyone," she whispered.
Before anyone could respond to this earth-shaking revelation, Marcus casually waved his hand and opened a shimmering blue portal in front of them.
"Well, this has been a fascinating philosophical discussion," he said, his tone suddenly much more cheerful, "but we've got places to be. Come on, let's head back to Xandar. I'm pretty sure Queen Adora will want to clear your criminal records after what you just did."
The abrupt change in topic left everyone feeling whiplashed, but they followed Marcus through the portal anyway. What else were they going to do?
They emerged into what looked like a tense standoff. On one side stood Queen Adora and a formation of Nova Corps officers, their weapons drawn but not quite pointed. On the other side was a motley crew of rough-looking space pirates surrounding a blue-skinned man with a distinctive fin-shaped crest on his head.
"Queen Adora," the blue-skinned man was saying with an exaggerated bow, "we came here to help Xandar in her time of need. Surely that kind of heroic assistance deserves some form of... compensation?"
His tone was jovial, but there was definitely an undertone of 'pay up or else' that everyone could hear.
"This is not your territory, Yondu," Queen Adora replied firmly, though she looked more exasperated than actually threatened. "But yes, Xandar honors her debts. We'll discuss appropriate payment for your assistance."
"Yondu?" Star-Lord perked up, and for a moment his face lit up with something that might have been excitement before quickly shifting to annoyance. "What are you doing here, you old bastard?"
The entire standoff paused as Yondu turned around, his weathered face breaking into a grin that somehow managed to be both fond and predatory at the same time.
"Well, well, well," Yondu drawled, his distinctive accent thick with amusement. "If it ain't my boy Quill. Should've known you'd be in the middle of whatever mess this turned out to be."
"I'm not your boy," Star-Lord shot back, but there wasn't much heat in it. "And what do you mean, whatever mess? We just saved the entire planet!"
"Uh-huh," Yondu nodded sagely. "I'm sure you did, kid. Just like you 'saved' that Orb from those Ravagers, right?"
Before Star-Lord could sputter out a response, Tony came dropping out of the sky with a soft repulssor whine, his nanotech helmet retracting as he touched down.
"How did it end so fast?" Tony asked, looking between Marcus and the group of misfits. "Last I saw, you and that blue maniac were going at it pretty evenly. I was expecting to come back to a smoking crater."
Marcus chuckled. "Nothing too dramatic. Our new friends here decided to join the fight at just the right moment. Star-Lord pulled out some... unconventional tactics that caught Ronan completely off guard."
"Unconventional tactics?" Tony raised an eyebrow.
"He danced," Rocket said flatly. "The idiot actually danced at a space-powered warlord. And somehow it worked."
"Hey!" Star-Lord protested, puffing up with pride. "That wasn't just any dance! That was a carefully executed distraction maneuver using advanced Earth cultural techniques!"
Tony stared at him for a long moment. "You... danced. At Ronan the Accuser."
"It was a very specific dance," Star-Lord said defensively. "A classic! Do you want to see? I could teach you!"
Before Tony could respond with what was sure to be a sarcastic rejection, Star-Lord had already pulled out his Walkman and started connecting it to some nearby speakers that the Nova Corps had set up for communication purposes.
"Oh no," Gamora muttered, but she was trying not to smile.
The familiar opening notes of "Come On Eileen" started playing, and Star-Lord immediately launched into his full routine. His movements were every bit as ridiculous as they'd been during the fight—all exaggerated pointing, spinning, and what could generously be called interpretive hip movements.
"Come on, everyone!" Star-Lord called out, never breaking rhythm. "It's a group activity! You can't just watch!"
To everyone's surprise—including her own—Gamora found herself starting to move along with the beat. The dance was infectious in the most ridiculous way possible.
"I am Groot!" Groot said happily, swaying his massive wooden form in what was probably the world's first example of tree dancing.
Even Drax, who had initially looked disgusted by the display, was starting to nod his head in time with the music. "This... this is not entirely terrible," he admitted grudgingly.
Rocket threw his paws up in the air. "Fine! But if anyone records this, I'm shooting them!" He started doing what could only be described as the world's angriest breakdancing.
Tony watched the entire display with growing horror and fascination. The music was definitely from Earth—he recognized the song, even if it was from a bit before his time. But seeing it performed here, on an alien world, by this collection of misfits...
"Where the hell did you learn that dance?" Tony asked when the song finally ended.
Star-Lord beamed with pride. "Earth, man! This is classic Earth culture right here! Dexys Midnight Runners, 1982! Pure musical genius!"
Tony's expression shifted from confusion to recognition to something that might have been sympathy. "Kid... that song and dance style have been out of fashion for like thirty years."
"What?" Star-Lord's face fell. "No way. This is timeless! Classic never goes out of style!"
"I hate to break it to you, but classic and current are two very different things."
Star-Lord looked crushed, but then his eyes suddenly lit up with realization. He stared at Tony intently, taking in the guy's features, his technology, the way he carried himself.
"Wait a minute," Star-Lord said slowly. "You know Earth music. You know about fashion trends. You..." His eyes went wide. "Holy crap, you're from Earth too, aren't you?"
Tony glanced at Marcus, who just shrugged as if to say 'your call.'
"Born and raised," Tony confirmed. "Though I'm guessing I left a lot more recently than you did, judging by your... vintage taste in music."
"Another Terran!" Star-Lord practically bounced on his feet. "This is amazing! How long has it been since you left? What's Earth like now? Do people still listen to music? Are there flying cars yet? Please tell me there are flying cars!"
"Slow down there, space boy," Tony said, though he was smiling now. "And yeah, there are flying cars. I should know—I make them."
Before Star-Lord could launch into what was sure to be an endless barrage of questions about his home planet, Marcus cleared his throat loudly.
"As entertaining as this reunion is," he said, looking pointedly at the two groups who were still technically in a standoff, "we've got some business to take care of."
Marcus stepped between the Nova Corps and Yondu's Ravagers, his presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. Yondu, in particular, seemed to tense up, his hand moving instinctively toward the whistle arrow at his belt.
Marcus noticed the movement and smiled slightly. "Relax, Yondu. I'm not here to cause trouble."
"Don't believe I caught your name," Yondu said carefully, though his tone was still friendly. "And I'm real good with names, especially names of folks who can make the kind of entrance you just did."
There was something in Yondu's posture that spoke of a man who had survived a very long time in a very dangerous profession by being extremely good at reading people. And right now, every instinct he had was telling him that the pale human in front of him was potentially the most dangerous person he'd ever encountered.
His whistle arrow was actually vibrating slightly in its holster, responding to some energy it couldn't quite understand. That had never happened before, and Yondu had used his arrows against everything from Kree warships to cosmic-powered lunatics.
"The name's Marcus," he said easily. "And don't worry about the entrance. I tend to have that effect on technology."
Marcus could see the calculations running behind Yondu's eyes—the way the older Ravager was sizing him up, trying to figure out if he was a threat or an opportunity. It was actually pretty impressive. Most people either cowered or tried to attack when they first met him. Yondu was doing neither.
"Well, Marcus," Yondu said, his grin returning but staying carefully neutral, "I'm just here trying to collect a fair payment for services rendered. My boys and I came to help defend Xandar, and we did our part. Seems only fair we should get compensated for our time and ammunition."
Marcus nodded approvingly. "That's reasonable. You did help, even if you weren't exactly here for altruistic reasons."
He turned to Queen Adora. "He's got a point. The Ravagers took out a good chunk of Ronan's fleet before I finished things. If you calculated their kills based on standard bounty rates, what would that come to?"
Queen Adora looked like she was doing complex math in her head. "Approximately... forty thousand credits, assuming standard rates for Kree warships and soldiers."
"There you go," Marcus said, turning back to Yondu. "Forty thousand credits. That seems fair for a day's work."
Yondu's grin widened into something more genuine. "Now that's the kind of fair dealing I can respect."
"But," Marcus continued, and his tone shifted just slightly, becoming more serious without losing its friendliness, "let's be clear about something. This is a business transaction. You helped defend Xandar, you get paid. But that doesn't make you and your crew good guys."
The temperature in the immediate area seemed to drop a few degrees. Yondu's hand moved back toward his whistle arrow, not in threat, but in readiness.
"Now, I'm not saying that's necessarily a bad thing," Marcus continued, seeming completely oblivious to the tension he'd just created. "The galaxy needs people who are willing to do the jobs that good guys can't or won't do. But let's not pretend you're here out of the goodness of your hearts."
Yondu studied Marcus for a long moment, then threw back his head and laughed.
"You got some stones on you, boy," he said, genuine admiration in his voice. "Most people either kiss my ass or try to kill me. Not many folks just lay it out straight like that."
"I find honesty saves time," Marcus replied with a shrug.
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