Chapter 9

Corvus Glaive's grip on his blade tightened.

Temple One had returned far too quickly.

He had assumed he would have more time—time to consolidate his hold over the Dark Quadrant, time to prepare for whatever was coming.

But now?

That ship, the symbol of Thanos' rule, was here.

His mind raced through the possibilities, but nothing made sense.

The being who killed Thanos had just walked into his domain.

Was it arrogance? A trap? Or was this creature truly so powerful that it didn't care?

The Chitauri soldier standing before him trembled under his piercing gaze. "My lord… there was a message."

Corvus' breath slowed. "Say it."

The soldier swallowed hard.

"Your king has returned."

For a moment, silence filled the palace.

Then—

Crash.

Corvus' glaive slammed into the ground, the force cracking the obsidian flooring beneath him.

Proxima Midnight stepped forward, her golden eyes narrowing.

Supergiant said nothing, but Corvus could sense her unease.

"Enough," Corvus growled, rising from his throne. "If this fool thinks he can claim the Dark Quadrant… we will remind him who rules here."

He turned, his voice cold and final.

"Mobilize the fleets. Destroy Temple One."

---

The counterattack came fast.

Hundreds of warships—sleek, deadly, and packed with firepower—rose from the Dark Quadrant's planetary strongholds, forming an armada that outnumbered Temple One a hundred to one.

A slaughter.

From a purely tactical perspective, it was checkmate.

No single ship, no matter how advanced, could survive a barrage from an entire fleet.

From the bridge of Temple One, Ebony Maw watched the unfolding battle preparations with a rare flicker of concern.

"Master," he said carefully, "should I activate the defensive barrier.?"

Lin Fan stood from his throne.

"Not yet."

Ebony Maw hesitated. Not yet?

Before he could question it, Lin Fan vanished.

One moment, he was there. The next, he was outside.

Standing in the void of space.

---

The universe stood still.

Lin Fan floated in the vast expanse, weightless, untethered, and utterly unbothered by the void around him.

The warships before him were an unstoppable wall of death.

And yet—

Lin Fan clenched his fist.

He threw a punch.

The air around his knuckles collapsed inward, a supernova of raw power surging outward in a blinding eruption of energy.

A beam of light brighter than a dying sun streaked across space.

The nearest warship never stood a chance.

One moment, it was a towering behemoth of steel and weapons.

The next, it was gone.

Not damaged.

Not exploded.

Just—gone.

Erased.

The energy continued surging forward, cutting through three more warships before detonating into a blinding explosion.

Silence.

Then, panic.

Onboard the enemy fleet, the surviving commanders stared at their screens in mute horror.

"…Did he just punch a ship?"

No one answered.

Because no one could.

Lin Fan exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

"Right," he muttered. "That felt pretty good."

Then he vanished again.

The next warship—three times larger than the first—had no time to react.

Lin Fan reappeared above it.

His pink hand pressed against its hull.

Then, with effortless ease, he pushed.

The warship—hundreds of thousands of tons of metal and firepower—was sent hurtling backward like a toy, slamming into another ship in a catastrophic collision.

Boom.

One ship down.

Two ships down.

No—five.

It was a massacre.

And Lin Fan was only getting started.

---

Inside Temple One, Ebony Maw watched the impossible happen.

He had always considered himself a man of logic.

A man of reason.

But what he was seeing now?

This defied all reason.

His mouth felt dry.

"This… this is beyond Thanos," he murmured.

No.

This was beyond anything.

For the first time since swearing allegiance, Ebony Maw felt something new.

Not fear. Not reverence.

Something deeper.

Worship.

---

On the bridge of the Dark Quadrant's command center, Corvus Glaive stood frozen.

His entire fleet—his unbreakable wall of warships—was falling apart.

To one man.

His fingers tightened around his glaive.

"Impossible," he whispered.

Lin Fan wasn't fighting a war.

He was playing with it.

For the first time, Corvus hesitated.

Had he made a mistake?

Had he underestimated a god?

---