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As Arthur said those words, he couldn't help but feel like he sounded a bit too much like a saint.
Of course, in reality… he wasn't.
And Star-Lord knew that better than anyone. When they first crossed paths, Arthur had threatened to blow Yondu's entire crew into stardust. Saints didn't pull stunts like that.
Arthur could be ruthless when it counted, but he never messed around when things got serious.
Especially not now.
What he was planning… was something even Star-Lord struggled to fully comprehend.
Eventually, Peter took a long breath and asked, "So, if we actually manage to stop Thanos… do we become the galaxy's greatest adventurers?"
Arthur was caught off guard for a moment, then broke into a laugh. "You already are."
He raised his glass, and Star-Lord grinned back. "Flattery, huh?"
Their glasses clinked together with a sharp clink. Arthur took a sip and muttered, "Though I'm still waiting for you to flatter me."
Star-Lord raised an eyebrow. "Alright, then tell me, why do you want me keeping tabs on Gamora?"
Arthur paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment. Then he replied, "It's not that I don't want to tell you… It's that I can't. At least, not yet."
Star-Lord gave a short nod.
Arthur continued, his voice more solemn now. "But if one day you ever find yourself in a moment of absolute despair, when everything feels lost, reach out to me. That might be when hope finds its way back to you."
"Huh. There are fortune-tellers out here in the stars too?" Star-Lord smirked. "Did you pick that line up from one of those Asgardian?"
Arthur chuckled. "Aside from Odin, most of them are too busy smashing things with hammers to study how to be con artists."
"…I swear, Asgardians are the weirdest bunch I've ever met."
Arthur shrugged. "Alright, enough talk. I've had my drink. What about you, still got those fish you're raising?"
---
Tonight's drinking session wasn't random; tomorrow, Star-Lord and his crew were shipping out from Xandar.
So this toast with Arthur was also a send-off.
In the end, it turned out to be a good night. Star-Lord stumbled away, reeking of alcohol, off to cause more chaos across the stars with his team.
Arthur watched him go, a faint smile still lingering. Compared to putting his faith in Xandar's politics, he'd rather place his bets on Star-Lord.
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully.
But that night… Gamora returned.
When Arthur opened the door and saw her, he didn't kid himself this time. "Want to come in and sit down?"
Gamora stepped inside.
Arthur poured her a glass of water and asked, "Is this about Nebula?"
"No," she said, taking a seat on the sofa. "This time… It's about you."
Her voice was serious, too serious to ignore.
Arthur set the glass on the table, then sat down across from her. "Looks like it's time for a real talk."
"I heard some things from Peter," She said, eyes locked onto his. "But don't get the wrong idea, he's still drunk, sure, but he didn't let anything sensitive slip."
"I believe you," Arthur nodded.
In truth, Arthur had been more worried about Peter's looser habits. The guy had a reputation, booze, charm, and ended up in the wrong bed at the worst time.
And if any of that led to sensitive intel leaking? It wouldn't just complicate Arthur's plans, it could blow everything up.
Up until now, Arthur had never revealed the full truth about the Infinity Stones to Star-Lord.
But after what happened with Gamora… he figured that unless Peter had a death wish, he wouldn't be running his mouth to anyone else, especially not to another woman.
And now, hearing Gamora speak, Arthur felt a bit of relief. Even while drunk, Star-Lord had kept quiet. That was a good sign. Still, Arthur was confused.
"If he didn't say anything, then… why come to me?" he asked.
Gamora's expression was difficult to read, subtle, uncertain, like someone experiencing emotions they'd never allowed themselves to feel before.
She exhaled slowly. "He asked me… if the day came when he couldn't protect me, would he fall into despair?"
Arthur blinked.
That one sentence… and she'd already started connecting the dots?
How sharp was this woman's intuition?
He lightly tapped his fingers on the edge of the coffee table, eyes never leaving her. "This afternoon, I did talk to Star-Lord. About Thanos."
Gamora's jaw tensed, her voice sharp. "You shouldn't have dragged him into that."
Arthur didn't flinch. "But he's with you. That means he's already involved, whether he wants to be or not."
He leaned forward slightly. "He's my friend. And sooner or later, he'll be part of whatever war is coming. Better he learns the truth now than stumble blindly into it later. It's the least I can do to give him a fighting chance."
Gamora glared at him, fists clenched. For a moment, she seemed torn between anger and something deeper. Then she let out a long, frustrated breath and stomped once on the floor. "Damn it!"
Arthur chuckled under his breath. "You're way too tense."
Gamora didn't respond immediately, but as the anger subsided, her gaze settled on him again, this time filled with questions.
"I still don't get it," She said. "You're supposed to be just another Earth-born human, granted, one with a few… odd upgrades. But how do you know so much? About Thanos. About me. About things no one should be able to piece together unless they've had access to something far beyond SHIELD or Xandarian intelligence. Even then, some of it sounds more like prophecy than data."
Arthur smiled but said nothing.
In a universe where secrets rarely stayed buried, he didn't feel the need to explain how his secrets worked.
Gamora scowled at his silence. She stood up abruptly, as if to leave, but then Arthur spoke again.
"That secret you're afraid to share, the one you'll never tell Peter, and definitely won't ever tell Thanos… why not tell me?"
Gamora froze mid-step.
A sudden chill filled the room, and Arthur could feel the spike in her killing intent like a blade pressing against his throat.
She turned slowly, her voice cold and sharp as steel. "What. Did. You. Say?"
Each word hit with the weight of a threat.
Arthur, unshaken, gave her a calm smile. "Relax. Have a seat." He gestured to the sofa. "No need to get hostile. We've never been enemies. In fact, from the beginning, our goals have been perfectly aligned."
(End of Chapter)