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Arthur had to admit, space travel was dreadfully boring.
Sure, the first time he'd laid eyes on the endless sea of stars outside, he'd been stunned, awed even. But after enough days of staring into that same infinite ocean, it all blurred into monotony. Aesthetic fatigue, pure and simple.
Fortunately, this time the ship was full of people. And as his body gradually recovered, Arthur found himself dragged into their so-called "entertainment."
Drinking. Fighting. Drinking while fighting. For the Raiders, this was the entire rhythm of life in space. And so time slipped by in this haze. Yet Arthur's mind remained restless, unsettled. The matter weighing on him hung like a blade overhead, refusing to move forward or back, grinding at his patience.
At least one thing turned out as he'd predicted: by the seventh day, his body had fully returned to its former state.
Energy flow is stable. Physical functions are all in order. Battle power restored. The only exception was the grinding, ever-present sound of gears inside him, muted only because he'd forced himself to ignore it.
But that sound was not just noise; it was the problem.
The Disassembler continued its relentless work. Which meant Ego's dismantling still wasn't finished. And right now, Arthur had no way of knowing how long this process would last.
The one relief was that the Disassembler's space itself remained unaffected, perfectly usable as ever. Yondu had estimated half a month of interstellar travel before they'd reach the Sovereign homeworld.
In practice, it took only thirteen days before they crossed into Sovereign-controlled space.
Not wanting Arthur's carefully laid plan to collapse under needless risk, the group decided to abandon Yondu's massive Raider ship; it was simply too large, too conspicuous.
That, however, meant Yondu and Star-Lord had to endure another farewell.
And what a farewell it was. Right in front of Arthur, the two grown men put on a melodramatic spectacle straight out of a soap opera, complete with snot, tears, and choking sobs. In the end, Yondu gave Star-Lord's shoulder a crushing slap and walked away without a word.
Thus, the full roster of the Superhero Alliance, minus Steve and Sharon, who had already returned to Earth, split across two smaller ships, breaking away from the Raider vessel's massive silhouette.
Inside the cockpit, Star-Lord stood silently as Yondu's colossal ship faded into the void.
Gamora laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. He, of course, immediately tried to seize the moment by catching her hand in return.
The result?
A sharp, resounding slap that left his cheek burning.
The revolution remained unfinished. More effort required. Two days of flight was hardly grueling. Under Star-Lord's lead, the pair of ships slipped quickly and quietly into Sovereign space.
To avoid detection, the cloaking systems and stealth radars remained active the entire way.
Arthur stood tall inside the cockpit, every inch the picture of restored vitality. His voice boomed with vigor, brimming with enthusiasm like some freshly appointed tour guide.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our journey has finally reached its grand destination!"
And thanks to the ship's projection system, his theatrical pose and words transmitted perfectly onto the second vessel as well.
Scattered applause echoed faintly through the cabin.
"So," Tony asked, folding his arms, "what's the plan now?"
Arthur's tone was casual, almost flippant as he spoke. "The Plan is simple. Starting with you, each of you will use 'No Pain.' I don't think I need to explain the procedure again, do I?"
No one needed reminding. The last time they'd used that cursed method, it had seared itself into everyone's memory.
Back then, only two had escaped the ordeal: Tony and Rocket.
During the battle on Xandar, Tony had commanded the Mark Series drone swarm against the Kree's frontal assault. He hadn't needed to sneak in with Arthur's infiltration team, and so he'd dodged the worst of it.
Rocket, on the other hand… had simply drugged himself and slept straight through the mission, refusing to risk a beating. It was a ridiculous stroke of luck, though the mission itself had still ended in tragedy.
This time, however, no one would be spared, not even Tony.
"Fine," Tony muttered with unusual resolve. He grabbed an injector without hesitation and jammed it into his arm. "This stuff really doesn't hur---"
He didn't finish the sentence. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed with a thud.
Arthur didn't even glance at him. Instead, he moved methodically from person to person, sealing each one into the Disassemble Space. Only after everyone else had been taken in did he finally deal with Tony, who was still out cold.
It wasn't surprising. Beneath the genius armor, Tony Stark was still just an ordinary human. His Iron Man suit made him a force comparable to gods, but once stripped of that armor, he was simply flesh and willpower. And willpower, unfortunately, meant nothing against the effect of 'No Pain.'
Once the task was done, Arthur teleported outside the ship. The moment he appeared in the void, he activated his suit's cloaking system, then stored the entire spacecraft safely within the Disassemble Space.
When he arrived aboard Star-Lord's smaller vessel, he was greeted by an unexpected sight.
Drax was just clambering back to his feet, eyes wide with excitement. "Are we there yet? Is this Sovereign territory?"
Arthur blinked in confusion, turning to Star-Lord.
Star-Lord groaned, palm over his face. "He's been… experimenting. Every time you said 'begin,' he jabbed himself. He's already passed out and woken up five times."
Arthur finally understood, and all he could do was shake his head helplessly.
He knew Drax was eccentric. His sense of humor was bizarre, his timing stranger still. But at least in the films he'd had flashes of insight, sharp words, profound in their simplicity.
Now? He seemed more like an oversized clown.
"Guess we're not there yet," Drax said brightly, showing one of his rare 'clever' moments. Without hesitation, he injected himself again. "Hopefully when I wake up this time, "
He spoke longer than usual. Maybe the repeated doses had dulled the drug's edge.
Arthur didn't risk it. Before Drax could come to yet again, Arthur swept him away into the Disassemble Space. Then he motioned for the others to begin their turns.
Mantis, the newest recruit, watched the process with wide-eyed fascination.
"Oh!" she said, almost cheerfully, before jabbing herself with the injector. "You're right, it doesn't hurt! But… I never really hurt in the first place. Why do I need this to not feel pain?"
Her resistance was unusual. She even had the audacity to wink at Arthur after speaking.
For a fleeting moment, Arthur thought her physiology had nullified the drug. Then, with a quiet plop, Mantis slumped over like the rest.
With the final crewmate secured, Arthur stood alone in the ship. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a mirror, and studied his reflection.
His body began to shift. Limbs lengthened, his posture grew taller, and his skin shimmered into radiant gold. In moments, he had transformed into a flawless Sovereign.
He admired the reflection with a nod. "Perfect. This should do nicely."
Pocketing the mirror, Arthur stored the ship away, then launched himself straight toward the gleaming planet of the Sovereign.
(End of Chapter)