Prison

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This time, Groot didn't say a word. He simply inserted his hand into the blue alien's nostrils, then used two fingers to lift him off the ground.

The only point of contact was the nostrils.

The blue alien screamed in pain, but it didn't matter—no one dared move.

Taking advantage of everyone's stunned silence, Rocket raised his voice. "Let me be frank. This guy? He's with us."

He pointed at Star-Lord. "You want to take him? Try measuring your own strength first."

As he spoke, Rocket circled quickly around Star-Lord and Groot, as if drawing a line around them.

"Or, if you think you're brave, try us first."

The moment Rocket finished speaking, Groot crushed the blue alien's nose with a sharp jerk.

Star-Lord looked down at the man who, just minutes ago, had threatened to eat him with sauce. Now he was twitching on the ground, easily overpowered by Groot.

The feeling that crept up in Star-Lord was unfamiliar.

Usually, in a situation like this, he'd have to talk his way out, full of bluff and charm.

But this time, brute force had resolved everything. Groot's power crushed the threat, and Rocket's sharp words did the rest.

He knew they were only protecting him because they wanted to trade him in for cash later. Still, it was the first time someone had stood by him like that.

As he stepped over the moaning blue alien, he heard him mutter, "I hate you."

Further down, Gamora was surrounded by more prisoners. Their voices were venomous.

"The cell won't protect you!"

"You're dead!"

Gamora didn't respond. Her face was calm, emotionless. She walked straight into her cell without glancing back.

---

*Xandar*

Kai brought Tony and the others to the largest trading district.

At first, Tony was still thinking about the Legion's technology—wondering if he could reverse-engineer it.

But after some persuasion from Kai, Tony let it go and began to take in the sights of the market.

Even so, a hint of frustration lingered in his heart.

Back on Earth, Tony was at the forefront of technological innovation. Most cutting-edge developments had his fingerprints on them.

Now, walking through Xandar, he felt small. Everything was so far ahead. He was no longer a pioneer, just a student trying to catch up.

That contrast almost made him want to give up.

Kai quickly noticed Tony's mood and walked beside him.

"Tony, you know Earth hasn't entered the interstellar age. Compared to Xandar, we're far behind."

He waited for Tony to look at him before continuing.

"And Xandar isn't average—it's one of the more advanced civilizations in the galaxy."

Tony listened, quietly.

"So don't be discouraged. Don't give up. Instead, see it as your mission. Bring back what you can—knowledge, tools, everything. Help Earth take that next step."

"When Earth catches up, when it's finally ready for its place among the stars, it'll be people like you who push it beyond that."

Tony's mind shifted.

Yes. One day, Earth would catch up.

And when it did, it would need leaders again—pioneers.

That would be his time.

For now, his mission was clear: gather everything possible and bring it home.

So he, Ethan, and Banner started browsing seriously, filtering through equipment and ideas.

Kai watched the three of them, slightly overwhelmed. They wanted everything that could help Earth.

And now it was his turn to worry.

If he was going to fulfill their wishlist, he'd need to find a way to pay for it all.

---

*Klin Prison*

At night, Star-Lord lay on the bunk in a noisy cell, surrounded by prisoners.

Snoring and quiet murmurs made it impossible to sleep.

Then, he heard shouting.

Gamora was being dragged from her cell.

"Take her to the showers. Easier to clean up the blood there."

Someone held a knife to her throat, and her hands were tied. She screamed in rage, but it didn't help—she was forced toward the showers.

Star-Lord, who had just seen her pass by, immediately slipped out of bed and followed quietly.

Rocket stirred from his spot. He watched Star-Lord sneak off, hesitated, then cursed under his breath.

"Quill! Quill!"

Worried about their investment, Rocket followed.

Star-Lord kept a low profile, trailing the group to the shower area. Gamora had been shoved inside.

One of the prisoners began speaking like a self-appointed judge.

"Gamora, you've committed unspeakable crimes. You deserve death."

He raised his knife.

But a deep voice echoed through the corridor.

"You dare?"

A tall, muscular man stepped out from the shadows. His body was covered in red markings, more like scars or war paint than tattoos. His presence froze everyone in place.

"Drax… the Destroyer?"

Recognizing him, the attackers hesitated.

Drax didn't stop. With every step, the crowd backed off.

His reputation alone was enough to make them retreat.

Rocket reached Star-Lord's side. He only peeked his head out, quietly observing. He wasn't about to get involved—not unless he had to.

He was just here to make sure Star-Lord stayed alive.

And stayed valuable.

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