A massive pattern stretched across the battlefield—golden lines weaving themselves into a colossal magic circle a full kilometer wide. The shimmering array hung in the air like a celestial mural, precise and orderly, radiating both majesty and mystery. Each line glowed faintly, so radiant that it almost seemed real, as if reality itself had bent to accept it.
Then came the tremor.
A deafening crash shook the land as a giant Mosa beast—hundreds of meters tall—slammed into the radiant barrier. The monster's bulk pressed against the shield, yet the golden construct didn't so much as ripple. With a frustrated groan, the beast slid helplessly off the glowing surface and collapsed onto the earth below, raising a storm of dust and shaking the nearby mountains.
The ground trembled. Rocks split. Winds surged violently, tugging at cloaks and scattering loose soil into the air.
Through the haze of dust, a clear voice rang out.
"Who are you?"
The woman responsible for the spectacle withdrew her hand. The golden light dissolved like mist, leaving the air strangely calm. Her gaze turned toward a dumbstruck figure not far away—Peter Quill, better known as Star-Lord.
Quill blinked, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Uh… my name's Quill. Friends call me Star-Lord. I'm a mercenary. Uh—hello? Are you… are you a mercenary too?"
His voice cracked slightly as he met the woman's eyes—eyes like gemstones, impossibly clear and unnervingly sharp. Something in her presence pressed down on him like invisible gravity.
Quill's heart hammered. Was it fear? Awe? Or both? He realized, with a sinking feeling, that it was something deeper—an instinctive submission to someone far above him on the food chain. It wasn't courage that told him to stay still; it was survival, written into the marrow of his bones.
The woman—Bella—smiled faintly, lips curving as though amused.
"Star-Lord, Quill…"
Of all places, of all moments—she hadn't expected to stumble across such a troublesome character of the future here. Was her luck really this good? It seemed destiny had handed her one of the universe's soon-to-be major players, right at the edge of chaos.
She had originally come to this forsaken planet after hearing whispers in the black market about the rampaging Mosa monsters. She hadn't come to hunt them for glory or riches. No, Bella's only goal was self-improvement, to sharpen her strength against worthy adversaries. And judging by the battle just now, this trip was paying off—though not without surprises.
"It seems you're not very lucky today," she teased.
Quill managed a crooked grin and shrugged, brushing dust from his jacket.
"Story of my life. Lady Luck and I… we don't really get along."
The earth's rumbling subsided for a moment, giving him the chance to fix his shirt and tug at his coat. Quill prided himself on at least looking like a gentleman, even when everything else was falling apart. But the sudden waft of foul stench from the fallen beast killed whatever charm he was trying to project. He grimaced, cheeks coloring. Fortunately, thick skin was one of his many survival skills.
Bella chuckled softly at his attempt to maintain composure. But her amusement was short-lived. Her gaze shifted, sharpening as she spotted movement—hundreds of Mosa behemoths charging across the plains, each one radiating destructive force.
"I think you should leave," she said calmly.
"Yeah," Quill muttered, pale. "I was just thinking the same thing…"
Even though the monsters were still more than ten kilometers away, the very air quivered under their presence. The ground vibrated like a drum. Shadows spread across the land as the stampede drew near, blotting out what little sunlight remained.
Quill swallowed hard. The danger wasn't just the tide of beasts. No, the greater threat was standing right in front of him—the woman who clearly wasn't about to retreat. He had witnessed her earlier display, the effortless domination of that massive creature, and realized something terrifying: if he ran now, she could kill him before he even blinked.
And yet, the monsters weren't blind. Their sharp eyes caught him scrambling halfway up the mountain slope. To them, he wasn't Star-Lord or mercenary—he was just prey.
Hundreds of gaping jaws lit with fire, exhaling molten breath into the night. The roars shook the mountains, making Quill flatten himself against the cold rock. Cold sweat dripped down his temple as he watched the flames gather in their throats.
"Seriously?!" he groaned inwardly. "Can't you oversized lizards see the crazy sorceress up there? Why me?!"
He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Sure, he wasn't movie-star handsome, but come on—he wasn't ugly enough to be singled out by giant lava-spitting beasts.
At the peak of the mountain, Bella sighed. This Star-Lord fellow reminded her of someone—Angie, another soul cursed with hilariously bad luck. Unlucky men, it seemed, were a universal constant.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, Bella snapped her fingers.
Kacha—
Reality itself shattered. The world fractured like broken glass, shimmering shards dividing space into countless pieces. In an instant, the stampeding monsters were dragged into the mirror dimension—a realm entirely under Bella's control. The ordinary world remained untouched, sealed away from the chaos.
Inside the mirror world, the beasts roared in confusion. Flames poured from their maws, flooding valleys and incinerating mountains, yet their prey had vanished. They thrashed and stomped, tearing apart everything in sight, their frustration shaking the false dimension.
Bella's hand curled into a fist.
Golden energy spheres, thousands of them, blossomed into existence. Each sphere hovered like a miniature star, no larger than a pigeon's egg, arranged with perfect symmetry around the rampaging herd.
Then came the strike.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The spheres exploded, unleashing countless golden beams that crisscrossed the mirror world like threads of divine silk. The energy lances pierced flesh, armor, and bone alike. Screams tore through the illusion as the monsters were skewered one after another.
Within moments, the horde had been broken. The once-unstoppable tide of Mossas collapsed into chaos. Some fell lifeless, bodies disintegrated into ashes. Others writhed helplessly, their limbs shredded by golden filaments. Only a few survived, maimed but alive—spared by chance rather than mercy.
Bella exhaled, lowering her hand. The battlefield fell eerily silent.
"Hundreds of them… and still so little improvement?" she muttered, displeased. Despite wiping out monsters each comparable to the Hulk in raw strength, her own growth felt minuscule. No breakthrough, no qualitative leap in her abilities. The awakening panel hadn't shifted at all.
To ascend beyond A+ required something far greater than brute slaughter. Perhaps only a battle against a Sub-God Father could truly push her forward.
The thought left her both frustrated and oddly motivated.
Meanwhile, halfway down the mountain, Quill clutched the stone beneath him, heart racing like a war drum. He had been certain death was moments away. But then, with nothing more than a snap and a shimmer of light, the impossible happened—the monsters were gone, whisked away into a realm he couldn't comprehend.
For the first time in a long while, Peter Quill felt genuine awe.
He tilted his head, peering up at the silhouette standing proudly atop the ridge. The wind tugged at her coat, golden sparks flickering faintly around her fingers.
"Who… who is she?" he whispered.
In that moment, something stirred within him—not just fear or relief, but an inexplicable ripple of admiration. Star-Lord, the self-styled rogue of the galaxy, had stumbled upon someone far beyond anything his travels had prepared him for. And deep down, he knew: this was only the beginning.
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