Chapter 871: You Can’t Handle It — Let Me Do It
Draining the Master Chief dry was, of course, impossible. Selene was the Goddess of Magical Beasts, not some succubus goddess...
Uh, well, not that far off.
In any case, Master Chief John had collapsed.
Watching as the Honor Guard servitors under Cortana’s control carried him into the captain’s office to rest—urgently replenishing his stamina, nutrients, and Honkai energy—Selene stood there in a daze.
"He’s worked hard. Hopefully our Master Chief can hold on and expand, reinforce that pitiful ’magic circuit’ of his—though no matter how much it’s expanded, it still won’t be enough."
Esdeath folded her arms across her chest. Seeing the look on ’Gorgon’s’ face, she let out a soft breath.
It is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury back to frugality.
Their own Empress had always fought rich battles. Even when she hacked into the mindset of a Heroic Spirit incarnation and consciously tried to control her consumption, from Selene’s perspective, her way of fighting and what she considered "not much consumption" were completely different from how ordinary people understood that phrase.
"It seems the Master Chief’s qualifications as a Master are lagging behind. The frequency of his body’s natural metamorphosis can’t keep up with Thanos’ evolution," Selene said. "Let him keep the Mind Stone for now."
That was only natural. The Master Chief had to fulfill his responsibilities as commander of the 117th Fleet of the Demon Inquisitor Chapter while also bearing the role of Master. Charging the front lines personally was temporarily impossible.
As for Thanos—under Selene’s heartfelt ’supplementary lessons’—he wandered on the edge between life and death, between the realization and collapse of his ideals, endlessly repeating the process of his body being torn apart and regenerating.
The former had bathed in the essence of a newly born secondary omniversal multiverse, effectively making him one of the first Celestials belonging to [Eternal Selene]. Even without fighting, he was constantly evolving toward the state of a Celestial.
But the birth and evolution of a Celestial was far too long a process. Master Chief John was still not even a ’Lesser Celestial.’
The latter was no slouch either. An Eternal—created by the Celestials by chance—possessed nearly limitless potential.
Especially Thanos. Already a standout among the Eternals, and now having seized the Infinity Stones, the Eternal race’s ability to absorb cosmic energy and refine it into primordial cosmic energy to grant themselves superhuman physiques would be displayed to its fullest. The Infinity Stones were among the universe’s greatest cosmic energy singularities.
Selene-senpai’s ’supplementary lessons’ for her junior Thanos further accelerated this conversion efficiency and the frequency of his transformation.
The Master Chief’s metamorphosis was gradually falling behind Thanos’, to the point that the recovery and expenditure of the mixed energies within his body had become imbalanced. He was beginning to fail to sustain the cost of Selene manipulating the Time Stone to increasingly ’freeze’ Thanos, whose mastery over the Infinity Gauntlet was deepening by the moment.
Perhaps the comparison was not entirely appropriate, but the principle was the same.
In the end, Selene withdrew from the explosive magical extraction during her clash with Thanos, and the Master Chief was drained until he collapsed.
The cosmic energy she subconsciously mobilized, the rapid extraction and precise application of the Time Stone’s authority—especially as Thanos grew stronger and stronger, the quantity and quality of his power skyrocketing like a rocket—were simply too great a burden for the Master Chief, who was responsible for sustaining the consumption of all Servants.
"That won’t do. The cosmic energy supplied by the Gemstone can only be considered icing on the cake. The foundation that maintains our manifestation in this world lies with the Master Chief."
"We need to find a way to accelerate his metamorphosis." After making that assertion, Selene folded her arms across her chest—then coughed lightly.
It would not do for John to be unable to bear the cost. If her magical power supply were cut off while she was giving Thanos his ’lessons,’ she would be at a complete loss. Even with the cosmic energy leaking from the Time Stone as supplementation, and even with her own skill that allowed her to absorb cosmic radiation and convert it into magical power, it would not be enough.
How to accelerate it?
Surely she couldn’t treat the Master Chief the way she had just treated Thanos.
Selene fell silent. She gazed at the black curtain beyond the palace dome viewport, where ripples of warp transit undulated across the void. Her claw blades tapped lightly against the console—sometimes fast, sometimes slow—the percussion echoing through the chamber. "What’s the situation aboard the ship?" She turned her gaze toward Esdeath.
"No abnormalities."
Esdeath understood her meaning. "That exiled Asgardian prince is brimming with battle intent. After seeing Thanos’ fleet, he repeatedly violated orders, demanding to sortie. I stopped him."
"You didn’t kill him."
She added, "You said it yourself—they’re not the same kind as us with their lax habits. I handled it lightly. Flogging."
"Thor..."
Resting her chin on her hand, Selene rubbed it thoughtfully. There was a subtle shift in her tone. "His father, Odin, fought Celestials in his youth. And apparently won... And as for his father..."
"Any leads?" Esdeath tilted her head slightly, arms still folded.
At that moment, golden particles of light gathered. Magical energy surged like a gust of wind, stirring Selene’s platinum falcon wings. Karna appeared on the bridge.
"My lord, Rocket of the Guardians of the Galaxy requests an audience with the Master."
"See? Right on cue." Selene glanced at Esdeath with an easy smile. "The Master is unwell. I’ll go meet that father-avenger’s team instead."
With Karna leading the way, Selene soon arrived at the hangar deck’s pedestrian walkway. She saw an upright raccoon, a tree-being, a woman with antennae on her forehead, a gray-skinned bald brute marked with red tattoos, and a blue-skinned woman covered in crackling sparks, standing on a mechanized maintenance platform.
And a white Earth male lying unconscious like a corpse.
"Wow..." Upon seeing Selene—radiating menace, with claw blades, falcon wings, and serpentine scales—Rocket immediately looked away and muttered under his breath. He had recognized that this woman was very likely the being who had taken on Thanos in the form of a ’cosmic angel.’ "This is really..."
"So... where’s the Master Chief?"
Rocket pointed at the unconscious Star-Lord.
"I’m friends with your commander. We’re requesting some assistance. And maybe... help our captain get back on his feet. He’s been in a bad place mentally. We were hoping fighting Thanos might numb his pain..."
"The Guardians of the Galaxy. It seems you haven’t suffered casualties."
Noncommittal, Selene nodded, scanning them briefly. Good. After helping you so much—rescuing not only you but your companions as well—there was all the more reason to have you contribute.
"No, we did suffer casualties. Gamora is dead."
The voice came low and heavy—from the blue-skinned bald woman whose body was half converted into metal.
"Nebula," Rocket quickly introduced. "Gamora’s sister—and Thanos’ enemy. An auxiliary member of our team. She attempted to assassinate Thanos alone, failed, and was imprisoned on his flagship."
"Thanos really did love Gamora."
The Soul Stone—one life for one soul. It required the sacrifice of the one you loved most.
With a soft laugh, Selene did not linger on the subject. It was merely a polite remark. When it came to the Guardians of the Galaxy, it was always "Gamora, Gamora" without end. "What’s wrong with him?" She glanced at Star-Lord.
"He lost the love of his life. He shut himself off, avoiding reality. He doesn’t want to accept it..."
"Waking him up should be simple for you, shouldn’t it?" Selene asked the timid-looking Mantis.
"He’s in so much pain. So guilty..."
Overly sentimental.
Selene had no comment and no interest in offering one. When it came to love and family—she would not say it was wrong—but in this Marvel world, that was one of their defining traits. Everything could be thrown away for it.
"If none of you can bear to do it, fine. I’ll handle it."
Selene folded her arms. The tip of her right foot tapped lightly against the floor. A serpentine tentacle extended, its head crackling with sticky dark-red lightning—crackle, crackle—the chaos magic within it capable of bewitching minds. Used as a stimulant, it was quite the effective remedy.
Swish.
The snake head bit into Star-Lord’s neck. His body convulsed. A few breaths later—
"Gamora!" he shouted, almost springing upright on the spot. His expression cycled wildly between pain, joy, and self-reproach, as though caught in hysteria.
Smack!
"Awake now, Peter Quill?"
The world spun. His vision cleared in an instant. His face felt the cold hardness of the metal deck. Only then did Star-Lord realize he was sprawled face-down on the floor.
"Gamora..." His cheek scraped raw against the plating, turning bluish. His lips trembled slightly. "Thanos—I swear I’ll kill you!" He clenched his molars.
"Sigh..."
Selene and Esdeath exchanged a glance and both shook their heads faintly. They and he did not share the same worldview.
"Peter Quill, do you remember your biological father?"
A sweep of her claw blades sent a rising gust that flipped Star-Lord over onto his back. Selene truly did not wish to hear "Gamora, Gamora" any longer. She did not know the woman. Felt nothing for her. It was simply noisy.
"My father—Ego. You know that bastard?" Star-Lord lifted his head.
"No."
"Then why—"
"Irrelevant." A smile bloomed at Selene’s lips. "Do you want to be a pure-blooded Earth human?"
Star-Lord’s eyes widened. He might joke around, but he was no fool. Instantly, he recalled how Ego had tricked him into awakening his bloodline power, intending to use him to assimilate other planets.
"You’re a Celestial?!"
His father had once claimed before him that his race were Celestials.
"Close," Selene shook her head. "But not quite." She pointed toward the direction of the bridge. "Someone here is. Celestial blood in your hands has only gathered dust. You despise it because of your parents. Better to settle it once and for all."
Clang... clang...
Her inhuman features shimmered faintly under the fluctuations of escaping magic. Her vertical pupils narrowed. Her voice carried no warmth whatsoever as she flicked her claw blades lightly, metallic resonance echoing through the hangar. The implication was obvious.
No matter how unimpressive Star-Lord’s usual performance, the fact that his father was a Celestial could not be denied.
His so-called sea-king father, the Celestial Ego, could be considered a malformed Celestial—having lived only a few million years. A true Celestial active in the universe measured its lifespan in hundreds of millions, even billions, of years on a cosmic timescale.
As far as Selene knew, within Earth’s core slumbered a Celestial embryo. The golden Celestial it would birth was named Tiamut. Still only a fetus, its emergence would require the sacrifice of all life on Earth. That embryo had been planted by Arishem the Judge, one of the highest-ranking Celestials.
Ego’s situation strongly resembled an embryo that had gone wrong mid-development.
His guardian Celestial had likely perished somewhere in the vast cosmos. The universe was immense, filled with countless strange and powerful beings. The Celestials varied in strength, and their fall was not unheard of.
Knowhere was born in just such a way.
Otherwise, given the Celestials’ protectiveness and unity, they would never have ignored Ego’s existence.
He had developed only a brain—not even a skull—let alone the cosmic armor equivalent to a Celestial’s skin. Thus Ego left his gestation site and wandered the universe. Without Celestial laws to sustain him, he relied solely on the will that had birthed him, gradually learning to manipulate molecules and using that ability to construct a crude planetary-scale shell.
In other words, he disguised himself as a planet.
Selene did not mind.
Perhaps in other universes or timelines Ego was not a Celestial. But as long as he was one in this universe, that was sufficient.
Malformed or not, he was still a Celestial. Star-Lord possessed half Celestial blood. It lay dormant only because he could not activate it. His divine power vanished because its source—the orthodox Celestial embryo Ego—had died.
If the Master Chief were to come into contact with him and, guided by the residual Celestial laws of this universe, draw it forth, he could rapidly awaken the primordial cosmic essence slumbering within his own body.
Then, following the evolutionary ladder of this universe’s Celestial birth laws, he could continuously assimilate and evolve—dramatically accelerating the Master Chief’s metamorphosis. Once the Master Chief matured into a true Celestial, the 117th Fleet and the Heroic Spirit Servants would possess far greater leeway in every respect.
"..."
After a long silence, Star-Lord looked around. These were the companions who had followed him into Thanos’ stronghold with their lives on the line. Now they had been rescued by the Divine Empress Order. Everywhere he looked were heavily armed warriors, watching them like tigers eyeing prey.
"Fine. But I want to see the Master Chief," he said, staring at Selene. He had intended to meet her gaze, but the spreading, cancerous pressure that sent a chill of fear through his entire body made him wisely settle for looking only at the lower half of her face.
"I don’t trust you."
"Fair enough."
Selene turned her head and snapped her fingers—snap. Several Demon Inquisitor warriors, their physiques swelling even within their power armor as their auras deepened, stepped forward heavily.
"Take him away."
Whether Star-Lord trusted her was irrelevant. Selene had not come to make friends.
"Cortana, you’re watching, aren’t you? Convey Esdeath’s and my intentions to the Master Chief."
Watching as Star-Lord was escorted away, Selene tapped the terminal beside the hangar runway.
"Don’t worry. He won’t die."
As she left the deck, Selene, in an unusually good mood, casually ruffled Rocket’s fluffy head. The sight of him glaring but not daring to speak made her chuckle. She flicked the little tree-being with her claw blade as well, departing gracefully amid indignant cries of "I am Groot!"
"The remains of Ego’s planet should have research value."
"And Asgard’s treasury—no matter how reckless Thor is, he should at least have emptied his father’s vault before blowing up his homeland. Contact Valkyrie. Have the artifacts Odin left behind in his youth delivered here."
"And our allies. Arrange a meeting. Thanos is still gathering forces. We’ve already made our move. They should express their stance as well."
"Ask them—Thanos has gone completely mad and intends to wipe out half the universe’s life. As responsible great powers of the cosmos, when do they plan to mobilize their armies to eliminate the threat?"
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