Quill was curled up on his bed, in an extremely undignified 'dog-paddling' sleeping posture, with a trace of drool at the corner of his mouth, his hands restlessly pulling at the blanket, occasionally letting out a few mumbled words in his sleep.
In his dream, he was wearing a sharp suit, standing on a strange Planet. The surroundings were filled with floating neon lights, and old-school disco music echoed in the air. He lightly adjusted his tie and looked up to see Gamora, wearing a stunning green evening dress and holding a glass of sparkling alien cocktail, smiling at him.
"Wow, Gamora, you look tonight... no, the you in my dream, you look even more incredible." Quill said somewhat incoherently, trying to hide his inner excitement with his usual humor.
Gamora raised an eyebrow, a hint of teasing flashing in her eyes: "Am I not attractive usually?"
"Of course not!" Quill quickly waved his hand, showing what he thought was a handsome smile, "I just think the atmosphere tonight is really suitable for us to have a special... uh, date."
"Special?" Gamora took a step closer, a playful look in her eyes, "Are you trying to woo me again with those cheesy Earth love songs?"
"Hey! Love songs aren't cheesy!" Quill retorted indignantly, "Especially those classic old love songs, like..."
Before he finished speaking, suddenly, the entire scene began to blur, and a strong light rushed in from a distance. Gamora's figure instantly disappeared, replaced by a tall figure standing with his back to Quill in a dazzling beam of light.
Quill rubbed his eyes, shouting with a face full of annoyance: "Hey! Who is it? Don't you know it's rude to interrupt someone's date?"
The person slowly turned around, a kind and mysterious smile on his face. His voice was deep and magnetic: "Peter Quill, my child, we finally meet."
Quill was stunned for a moment, then frowned: "Who are you? My child? You haven't mistaken me for someone else, have you? Although I know I'm very charming, buddy, don't just claim relatives randomly."
The person shook his head, his gaze gentle and firm: "I am your Father, Peter. The noble and powerful bloodline flowing within you is destined to be different from your companions."
"My Father?" Quill raised an eyebrow, his face full of doubt, "You didn't just pop out of some bad TV show, did you? You're just short of saying I'm the prince of some lost kingdom."
The person was not moved by Quill's sarcasm and continued: "The power within you has begun to awaken, which is why you can survive in the Universe and become a leader. You are special, Peter. Furthermore, my appearance is not just for recognition, but also to warn you - someone near you has a special purpose regarding you."
Quill rolled his eyes impatiently: "Listen, I'm tired of these cliché plot devices. If you want to warn me about some dangerous person, at least give me some specific information. What the hell is 'someone'? An alien version of Werewolf?"
The person smiled slightly, his tone becoming more serious: "Peter, this is not a joke. I don't want you to lose your life due to ignorance. That powerful man, he does not belong to this group, he has his own purpose, and his target is you. He is extremely interested in your bloodline."
Quill frowned, a hint of disdain in his tone: "You mean Dominic? Please, at most he's a big guy who likes to act cool, sometimes a bit irritable, but he can't even tell a decent joke. What purpose could he have with me?"
"He is not as simple as you see." The person said slowly, "When you truly understand him, it may be too late."
Quill pursed his lips and spread his hands: "Okay, assuming what you say is true, what should I do? Get into a fight with him, or tell him to get a psychological evaluation?"
The person did not answer, just looked at Quill with a complex gaze, then stretched out his hand and pointed into the distance: "Come find me, and I will tell you more truth. Only you can decide your own destiny."
Quill tried to continue arguing, but found that the surrounding scene became blurry again. He stretched out his hand and shouted: "Hey! Don't go! At least tell me how to find you!"
Quill groggily climbed out of bed, scratched his messy hair, and kicked away an empty bottle by the bed. A noisy sound came from outside the door. He reluctantly opened one eye and mumbled: "Who's making all that noise? I haven't even recovered from that weird dream yet." He stumbled to the cabin door and pressed the control to open it.
As soon as the door opened, Gamora walked in, dragging two large boxes of supplies behind her. Her expression was icy, but there seemed to be a hint of impatience in the corner of her eyes that she couldn't hide: "Quill, can you stop blocking the doorway? The ship's ventilation system is almost blocked by your snoring."
"What?" Quill turned around blankly to get out of the way, mumbling, "Do I have sleep apnea or something? You're exaggerating too much."
Rocket followed closely behind, a unlit cigar in his mouth, holding a stack of shimmering credit chips in his hand, showing them off proudly: "Hey, Gamora, forget about him. We made a fortune this time. Look at these bounty rewards, those gold-skinned idiots from the Sovereign are now the most generous employers in the entire Universe."
Hearing this, Quill's eyes suddenly cleared up a bit. He glanced at the chips in Rocket's hand and raised an eyebrow: "So we're now the most valuable wanted criminals in the galaxy?"
Rocket's mouth spread into a cunning grin: "That's right, now I'm the veritable King of Space Thieves, so what? Are you going to give me an award?"
Quill sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose hard: "Oh god, this ship of ours is a giant flying target. And, how many times have I told you, don't take those kinds of missions on your own. When we get caught, where do you plan to run with your short legs?"
Rocket rolled his eyes at him: "Don't worry, no one can catch me. Besides, don't you have your 'Star-Lord' title protecting you? The whole galaxy knows how much you can brag."
Gamora interrupted coldly: "Less nonsense, Quill. We need to restock supplies quickly. Although this Planet is neutral, someone will soon discover our ship is parked here. We've repainted the hull, but that's only temporary."
Quill waved his hand: "Alright, alright, I get it. Speaking of which, where's Dominic? Where did he go?"
Gamora glanced at him, her tone flat: "At the bar. Probably figuring out how to drink while pretending to be a saint."
"The bar?" Quill's eyes widened bigger than when he just woke up, and he suddenly jumped up as if injected with adrenaline, "He's at the bar? Why didn't anyone call me? I need to talk to him! I had a very strange dream, I have to tell him!"
Gamora snorted coldly: "Maybe you should figure out first whether you want to discuss the dream or just find an excuse to drink."
Quill ignored her sarcasm, quickly put on his jacket, and hurriedly prepared to go out. Just then, Drax walked over from the back cabin of the ship, holding a large plate of meat chunks he didn't recognize, chewing as he asked: "What's making Quill so anxious? Didn't he just wake up?"
Quill stopped, turned to look at Drax, his tone carrying a hint of exaggerated anxiety: "Big guy, I need to go to the bar to find Dominic. I had a very important dream! Very important! That guy might know something."
Drax swallowed the food in his mouth and said unhurriedly: "A dream? Did you dream that Gamora beat you up again? That dream you mentioned last time, it made me laugh for a full ten minutes."
"No!" Quill rolled his eyes, his expression helpless, "This time it's not that kind of dream. It's about... about some mysterious... uh, genetic stuff or something messy like that. Anyway, it's important!"
Groot poked his head out from the corner, holding a mechanical part, and whispered: "I am Groot."
Rocket leaned against the wall and glanced at Groot: "He says you had another stupid dream, and you might as well just keep sleeping, since you're probably much more useful in your dreams than in reality."
Quill stomped his foot in anger, pointing at Rocket and shouting: "Rocket, I'm not like you who only empties other people's wallets! I'm a man with aspirations!"
"I really admire your pursuit of wallets," Gamora said, giving him a cold glance.
Quill couldn't be bothered to explain further, so he just scratched his head and mumbled: "Never mind, I have to go find Dominic. You guys, just wait for me to come back and tell you the truth."
Watching Quill stride out of the cabin door, Gamora, Rocket, and Drax exchanged glances. Rocket raised an eyebrow, his tone playful: "Five credit chips say he's not going to the bar for the dream, but to find an opportunity to brag about himself again."
Drax asked seriously: "Was Gamora in the dream? If so, he's likely to get beaten up."
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(End of Chapter)