Chapter 142: Ronan’s Ambition

As Garus stepped through the portal of Death Gate, the chaos outside continued unabated. They could hear the heavy footsteps of Kree soldiers rushing toward them—at least a hundred, judging by the sound.

"I'm not sticking around to get turned into Swiss cheese by a bunch of blue elves," Rocket muttered before darting inside, with Groot following close behind.

Gamora hesitated for only a moment. She knew Garus wasn't one of Ronan's people. Without further delay, she stepped through as well.

That left only Star-Lord and a few prisoners from the Kyln standing outside.

"There he is!" A squad of Kree soldiers spotted Star-Lord, and in an instant, they charged.

"Oh, come on!" Peter Quill cursed before bolting toward the Death Gate.

The moment he made it through, Garus sealed the portal shut. The remaining prisoners outside unleashed a storm of curses—before they were swiftly cut down by the Kree warriors.

...

A sensation of weightlessness overtook them as they were transported elsewhere. When they regained their footing, they found themselves in a different part of the ship. The floor was littered with Kree corpses, and the air was filled with the sound of explosions and—

Drax's battle cry.

The group turned in shock to see a massive red-skinned warrior swinging Drax around by the leg like a living weapon, smashing Kree soldiers left and right.

It was Abomination.

As it turned out, Drax had crossed through Death Gate at the worst possible moment. Abomination had been in the middle of slaughtering Kree troops, and mistaking Drax for yet another enemy, he had simply grabbed him and started using him as a bludgeon.

"Blonsky! Put Drax down!" Garus called out, half-amused, half-exasperated. He had only been gone a minute, and in that time, Abomination had already turned the so-called Destroyer into a ragdoll.

Abomination tossed aside a few more Kree before finally releasing Drax, who landed in a dazed heap. The warrior sat on the floor, gasping for breath—though, thanks to his formidable physiology, he was otherwise unharmed.

From the shadows, Kallruth emerged. "Mr. Garus, we were just spotted by Ronan's forces."

Before Garus could respond, another squad of Kree stormed in, weapons glowing as they prepared to fire.

A surge of green anti-magic energy flared to life around Garus and his companions, enveloping them in a protective barrier. The Kree weapons discharged, but their energy blasts were instantly absorbed into the shimmering field.

Inside the warship's control room, Ronan the Accuser watched Garus' arrival with a deep frown. Their last encounter had ended in humiliation—Garus had effortlessly defeated him and destroyed the Dark Aster. That loss still burned in his memory.

Even as a member of the Accuser Corps, Ronan could not afford to keep squandering the Kree Empire's resources. If he lost another warship, it would not go unnoticed.

He clenched his warhammer tighter, thoughts racing.

"The Orb of Power—it must be in that human's hands."

The Skrulls were here. The Orb was here. And they were on his ship. He couldn't back down now.

"I cannot fail again."

Turning to his second-in-command, he barked, "Deploy forces to the lower levels. Stop them at all costs."

He was prepared to throw wave after wave of troops at them. As long as he secured the Orb and won Thanos' favor, the destruction of Xandar would be assured.

And if he captured Kallruth, a high-ranking Skrull general, then his ambitions wouldn't have to stop at Xandar. He could overthrow the Supreme Intelligence and seize control of the Kree Empire itself.

Meanwhile, on the lower decks, the battle raged on.

Kree soldiers swarmed from every direction, but Garus and Abomination carved through them with brutal efficiency.

Frozen corpses shattered where Garus' frost magic touched them. Crimson energy flared, igniting Kree warriors in flames. A dark, necrotic aura lingered where his death magic struck.

Star-Lord watched, stunned. He had seen powerful warriors before, but this?

"This guy could take out Ronan single-handedly," he muttered. "Why are we even here?"

A bitter wind howled as another wave of Kree was flash-frozen, shattering into icy fragments.

Garus turned to Quill. "And yet, I specifically brought you out of the Kyln. Do you know why?"

Star-Lord frowned. "You tell me."

Garus' eyes gleamed. "Peter Quill—I know who your father is. And he's still alive."

Star-Lord froze. "That's impossible. I watched him die. My mother and I—"

"Focus!" Gamora shouted as she narrowly dodged a plasma blast. "We're in the middle of Ronan's warship, in case you forgot!"

After half an hour of relentless combat, the Kree forces finally began to wane. Hundreds of bodies littered the floor.

"Is that the last of them?" Rocket panted. Even with Garus and Abomination doing most of the work, the Guardians were exhausted.

"These weapons are garbage," Rocket grumbled, tossing aside a Kree rifle. "I miss my own."

Gamora wiped her blade clean. "Ronan will be waiting for us. He won't run."

Star-Lord hesitated. "Are we sure about that? What if he's got something up his sleeve?"

"He won't flee," Drax said with certainty. "I know him. He would rather fight to the death."

"I know this ship," Gamora said. "I'll lead the way."

Garus turned to Kallruth. "Stay here."

As they moved deeper into the ship, Gamora suddenly spoke. "I know you."

Garus glanced at her. "From Ronan or from Thanos?"

Drax leaned over to Star-Lord. "Quill, are all humans this powerful?"

Peter sighed. "Dude, I am human, and I'm nothing like that."

Garus smirked. "Seems like you don't know your own species that well. Come find me when you're back on Earth—I'll take you to my mutant academy."

Peter hesitated. "I haven't been back to Earth in years…"

They pressed forward, but something was off. It had been too long since they had seen any Kree troops.

"We're close," Gamora whispered. "Two more doors, and we'll reach the control room."

Drax tightened his grip on his knives. "Where are the soldiers? Are they—"

Before he could finish, the corridor ahead filled with Kree warriors, weapons aimed directly at them.

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