Arthur's feelings were impossible to pin down.
Was he elated?
After all, he had seized Ego's core and thrown it into the Disassembler for breakdown.
Whatever came out of the process, it had to be extraordinary. This was a so-called Celestial; there was no way the Disassembler would churn out trash from that.
Yes, the prompts had warned him: because of the Disassembler's current level, the conversion couldn't reach one hundred percent. There would be significant energy leakage.
But still… this was a Celestial.
If the Disassemble succeeded, wouldn't he be standing at the very peak of his life's path? Shouldn't he feel exhilarated?
And yet, deeper within, confusion weighed heavier than joy.
What exactly happened in that moment?
He replayed it again and again, and it still made no sense.
Two things in particular gnawed at him.
First, the attempt had failed. The system had clearly declared it. Failure. And then, for no reason, success. Why?
The only thing he remembered was a sudden blankness, a flicker of disorientation that struck his mind for a split second. That brief haze, what did it mean? What kind of force had intervened, allowing him to pull Ego's core fully into the Disassembler?
Second, the crushing weight that had nearly dragged him to his knees before the Disassemble began. That must have been Ego's doing.
After all, the Disassemble Space was linked to his soul, bound to it inseparably. Ego's energy was too immense. Its pressure bore down not on his flesh, but on his very spirit, so heavy it nearly broke him.
And then… the voices.
Endless murmurs had poured into his ears. Not one, not a dozen, but countless, waves of whispers, as though entire crowds were speaking to him at once.
Were they prayers?
Or something else entirely?
No, prayers didn't fit. Ego may have called himself a god, but he clearly lacked the ability to hear the faithful.
In truth, the "gods" of the Marvel world were no more than beings stronger, stranger, higher than mortals, not true divinities.
The Disassembler had labeled Ego a mystical pseudo-lifeform. Perhaps that was the only reason he could even be broken down.
But then how? How could something without true divinity impress itself so violently onto his soul, weighing him down, flooding his mind with voices that should not exist?
Even Ego himself should never have been able to hear such things.
So why… why could Arthur?
The thought wound itself around him like chains, impossible to untangle.
"There are too many riddles inside this one event," He muttered under his breath.
And not just this. When he had crossed the wormhole earlier, something else had happened, something strange, something significant.
Yet the memory was gone.
That was the part that unsettled him most. His mind had been sharpened by countless enhancements; his memory was unshakable, bordering on perfect recall. To call himself "photographic" would almost be humility.
There was no way he could simply forget.
"Unless… I experienced something so utterly unique that it could not even exist as memory. Unless that moment was wiped away by a force higher than me, erased from a dimension beyond my reach."
Arthur's brows knit tight. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.
And the most frustrating part was that even if he wanted to investigate, there was nowhere to start.
"I wonder… did Rocket and the others feel the same thing?"
Everything had happened too quickly. Back then, there hadn't been a spare moment to ask Rocket or T'Challa about what they had experienced.
"You're awake?" A gentle voice brushed against his ear. Natasha stirred, sitting upright. Her hand slipped quietly from his.
Arthur gave a slight nod. "What happened afterward?"
"In short… it was over," Natasha replied softly. "I didn't see the details myself. From space, all we could make out was the planet beginning to collapse. Almost immediately, we received Tony's transmission. He told us the situation had been resolved, in a very unconventional way. But their location was undergoing a massive collapse, and he asked us to provide immediate support."
As she spoke, she rose and poured Arthur a glass of water. "By the time we arrived, the planet was already unsustainable for any form of life. Most likely, with Ego's death, its ecosystem had completely unraveled. Once we'd evacuated everyone to the ship, we left… and that's when we ran into a raider vessel. Yondu's men."
She brought the glass over, helping Arthur sit up. In that moment, he realized how utterly powerless his body felt. Worse still, the golden energy within him had dimmed, almost snuffed out.
"Everyone else is fine." Natasha pressed the cup into his hands. Arthur lowered his head, sipping slowly. The warmth was soothing, exactly what he needed.
"Everyone but you…"
Her voice wavered. A faint mist gathered in her eyes as she looked at him. "Arthur… What did you do? No, how did you do it?"
Arthur gave a faint smile. "What exactly are you asking?"
"That power… what does it mean?" Natasha sighed, her shoulders heavy. "We've never pressed you about these things. We trusted you completely. But right now… I can't shake the fear that our trust might be pushing you down a path you can never return from. And that thought… terrifies me."
"I won't be reckless." After a long pause, Arthur finally spoke. "At that moment… I had no other choice."
"Your body shows no signs of injury," Natasha said firmly. "We don't understand why you lost consciousness, and it's shaken the entire team. Until you woke up, there wasn't any real life in us at all."
Her gaze was unwavering, her tone grave. "You need to take care of yourself. Facing an alien force in open space was already too dangerous. But to seize Ego's core using… whatever that was, Arthur, that was reckless beyond belief. All of us assumed that's why you collapsed. But only you can tell us the truth."
"…Honestly, I don't know what happened either." Arthur exhaled deeply. The frailty in his body gnawed at him, though there was one glimmer of hope: he could feel his strength stirring back to life, piece by piece.
Slow, yes. Painfully slow.
But another instinct told him: once Ego's core finished disassembling, his recovery would surge back to its peak.
That wasn't what worried him.
What truly unsettled him was Natasha, seated before him, her expression sharper and heavier than he had ever seen.
(End of Chapter)
You can read ahead up to 70 chapters on my patreon: https://www.patreon.com/GGS6395