CHAPTER 28: ECHOES OF THE BROKEN CORE
The ship drifted silently through the void, scarred by the battle it barely survived. The hull still smoked from atmospheric reentry, and the stars outside shimmered faintly against the blackness. Inside, the air hung heavy — like the calm after a storm that everyone knew wasn't really over.
Billy lay motionless in the med-bay. Tubes ran from his arms, green energy pulsing faintly beneath his skin. His breathing was shallow but steady, his face still — too still.
Rocket sat in a chair across from him, spinning a wrench in his hand. "So what's the plan, genius?" he muttered. "Do we keep him hooked up and hope he doesn't blow this ship to atoms in his sleep?"
Nebula glared at him from the corner. "He saved your life, raccoon."
Rocket's eyes flicked up. "Yeah, and nearly took it right back five minutes later. That kid's a walking bomb."
Star-Lord stood by the viewport, watching fragments of the dead planet drift like ashes. "We don't know what's happening inside him. He fought Kain — and something tells me that kind of fight doesn't end just because you win."
Gamora walked in, silent, her expression unreadable. "Mantis is still unconscious. She connected to something deeper than we understand."
Rocket leaned back, sighing. "Great. We've got a half-dead empath, a ticking vine-boy, and a ship held together by hope and duct tape."
Star-Lord didn't answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the window — on the faint, eerie glow of green drifting far out in space. "The Core's energy didn't just die when the planet exploded," he said quietly. "It scattered."
Nebula frowned. "Scattered where?"
Peter turned to her, his face grim. "Everywhere."
Inside the Mind
Billy stood in darkness again — not the void from before, but something colder. The air smelled like iron and earth. Roots coiled under his feet, whispering faintly in voices that weren't quite human.
"You cut the root… but the root still bleeds…"
He turned. The darkness shimmered, forming faint outlines — figures made of vines and dust, each shaped like a human. They reached toward him with brittle hands.
"Who are you?" Billy asked, voice trembling.
"We were the Green before the corruption… before Kain."
Their faces flickered — brief glimpses of past avatars, ancient guardians who had wielded the Root's power before him. Some wore crowns of leaves, others armor of bark and light. Their eyes glowed faintly, sorrowful.
"The balance is broken. The Core's destruction freed its fragments. Now the dark seed grows unchecked."
Billy took a step back. "You mean Kain?"
"Not Kain… what came through him."
The shadows around them quivered. From the cracks in the ground, a red glow bled upward, pulsing like a heartbeat. The whisper became a low hum — not words, but hunger.
Billy clutched his head as pain surged through him. Visions flooded his mind: entire planets overgrown with corrupted vines, life twisted into machines, cities breathing and dying as one organism. And at the center — a massive shape, shifting, half-machine, half-root.
A voice like a thousand whispers spoke through the dark:
"You can destroy the Core. You can kill the scientist. But the seed has already been planted."
Billy fell to his knees. "No… I ended it!"
The voice laughed softly — a sound that made the air itself tremble.
"You only began it."
The world shattered, pulling him back into consciousness.
Reality — The Med Bay
Billy gasped awake, his body jerking upright. The monitors screamed in alarm as green light burst from his veins. Rocket jumped up, dropping his wrench. "Aw, crap! He's glowing again!"
Nebula rushed to stabilize the restraints. "He's overheating!"
Gamora slammed the emergency containment shield around the bed, just as the energy surged outward. The whole room vibrated. Metal warped. Lights flickered.
Billy's eyes snapped open — one green, one crimson.
"Get… out…" he hissed through clenched teeth.
Gamora stepped forward, voice calm but firm. "Billy. It's okay. You're safe."
He looked at her — but his expression wasn't his own. For a split second, it shifted — and Kain's grin flashed through his face.
"You shouldn't have freed him."
The lights exploded.
Aftermath
When the power came back, Billy was gone. The containment shield lay shattered, scorched with green fire. The air was thick with dust and the smell of ozone.
Rocket coughed. "Okay, that's bad. That's really bad."
Gamora looked around. "Where is he?"
Nebula scanned the corridor with her mechanical eye. "He's headed for the hangar bay."
They sprinted down the halls. The ship's alarms blared as doors slammed open in their wake. In the hangar, they found him — standing by the viewport, staring into the stars.
"Billy!" Star-Lord shouted. "Whatever you're thinking, don't—"
Billy turned slowly. His face was pale, the veins in his neck glowing. "I can feel it," he said softly. "The fragments of the Core. They're alive."
Gamora stepped forward. "We'll help you find them."
Billy shook his head. "No. You can't. They're calling to me."
Rocket raised his blaster. "Kid, that sounds like the start of a very bad plan."
Billy didn't flinch. "It's not a plan. It's a warning. If the fragments merge again, the Green won't be reborn — it'll consume everything."
Star-Lord frowned. "Then we stop it. Together."
Billy's eyes flickered again — the crimson glow pulsed brighter. "Kain thought the Core was evolution. But it was infection. It spreads."
Gamora stepped closer, her tone soft but steady. "You're not alone in this fight."
For a heartbeat, Billy looked at her — truly looked — and something human flickered behind the chaos in his eyes. "Maybe," he whispered. "But if I lose control again… don't try to save me."
And before anyone could stop him, he stepped back — and vanished in a burst of green light.
Somewhere Else
Billy materialized on a barren asteroid, drifting near the edge of a dead solar system. The stars here were dim, their light fading. He stood alone, windless and weightless, surrounded by silence.
He reached into the ground — the dust beneath his fingers pulsed faintly, green. He could feel the fragments nearby, like embers in the void.
But he could also feel something else — a rhythm, deeper and darker. Like a heart beating beneath the universe's skin.
Then came the whisper.
"You can't stop growth. You can only choose what it becomes."
Billy's breath caught. "Who's there?"
A shape stepped out of the shadows — tall, cloaked in armor that seemed grown rather than forged. Its face was hidden, but its eyes burned red.
"You know me."
Billy froze. "Kain?"
The figure chuckled. "Kain was just a vessel. I am what he awakened."
The ground began to tremble. Roots of molten crimson burst from the dust, coiling toward Billy like serpents.
He threw up his hands — green light flared, vines surging to counter the attack. The two forces collided, red and green, light and rot. The asteroid cracked under the pressure.
The voice echoed again, louder this time. "The Green and the Red are not enemies — they are balance. And balance demands sacrifice."
Billy shouted over the chaos, "Then take me — not the universe!"
The figure's voice turned almost gentle. "That's exactly what I intend."
Back on the Ship
Star-Lord watched the scanners blink out one by one. Billy's signal had vanished completely.
Rocket slammed his fist against the console. "Gone! Poof! Like a damn magic trick."
Gamora whispered, "He didn't run. He went after it."
Nebula crossed her arms, jaw tight. "Then we go after him."
Peter turned to face them — his expression hard, eyes filled with that rare seriousness that came only before a war. "Pack up, team. The kid's not fighting a ghost anymore. He's fighting whatever's left of the universe's oldest infection."
Rocket groaned. "And let me guess — we're diving headfirst into the middle of it."
Star-Lord grinned. "You know it."
Outside the ship, a fragment of green light drifted across the void — faint, pulsing, alive.
But within it, deep beneath the glow, something red stirred — watching, waiting, whispering.