It turns out Michael and the rest of the Arch Sentinels were way ahead of me when it came to surrender negotiations.
"Several hundred vessels are eager to surrender themselves, my Lord," Michael sent through our telepathic link. They were still floating in space, in the mass grave that was the battle site. We'd have to clear out the debris before leaving or doom the people of Scapuli to a worse death than the one we saved them from.
"And their leader, Yondu, has offered up a pair of women called the daughters of Thanos."
Rin had been patched into the link, and we shared a look. He knew about them.
"I've heard of them… Gamora and Nebula. As far as I know, they were in lockstep with their old man."
"They secretly despised him," Sariel said in a quiet voice. "I heard it firsthand while I disabled the reactor on their ship."
"And I've read their minds," Azrael added. "Their sentiments were genuine."
"I guess asshole dads are universal," Rin said.
"Apparently," I hummed. "You said the lead ship is called Yondu. I'll be teleporting over to talk to them, but first, I'll handle cleanup."
"Please, allow us," Raphael spoke quickly. "You just fought the wielder of two Infinity Stones. It would be an honor."
I saw that Uriel had already told them. I let out a quiet groan. Raphael was going to become even more insufferable, as if that were possible.
"Nonsense," I waved him off. "It'll give me time to think and give them time to sweat a little." Not that I needed to pressure them to make them fold.
I activated Teleport, and a moment later, I was floating among the stars.
On a whim, I dismissed my helmet, letting it merge back into the sleek metal of my armor, and took in the scale of it all. Patches of Anathema Flame and debris were scattered throughout the system, some so far out it would take an advanced Earth telescope to even register them.
Yet it was all laid bare in front of me.
The jump in affinities took some getting used to, even more than gaining thousands of stats in one go.
I tapped into the runes embedded across my armor—over twenty of them—and activated my Metal Creation and Control, pulling in every stray piece of debris.
The cascade began slowly, then surged into a flood.
I teleported away each chunk, sequestering them at the edge of Earth's solar system where they wouldn't pose a threat, at least for a while. More fragments streaked toward me—ship cores, mech parts, weapons, armor still attached to partially disintegrated soldiers. Some were still burning. I extinguished them and absorbed the fire, adding it to the growing mass of energy resting in my chest.
Again and again.
The process lasted nearly five minutes.
Then I turned to the lingering Anathema flames. I drew in so much heat that I was surrounded by a fading halo of violet light.
And just as suddenly as it began, it was over.
I stood on the bridge of Yondu's Ravager ship beside Michael. The rest of my Sentinels remained in space, managing what was left of the fleet.
Yondu and his dopey first mate staggered back.
They were better dressed than I expected, and the Ravager ship itself was in surprisingly good condition. No rust along the walls. The consoles looked modern, not outdated. Their personal gear and weapons were well-maintained.
Michael hadn't bothered confiscating anything.
A smear of blood on one side told me someone had tried something earlier.
They hadn't survived.
Nebula and Gamora were bound and on their knees, and they looked just as surprised to see me.
"You're—the moon killer!" Nebula exclaimed, her voice cold and mechanical.
"No, he's not," Gamora corrected, a twinge of horror and fear in her voice. "He's the Runesmith. Vergil's brother."
"So I have a reputation now," I said. "Good to know."
"Your attack dog claimed you defeated our father," Nebula demanded. "Is it true?"
Yondu stepped forward before I could answer, offering a bow.
"Forgive the girl's impertinence, my Lord. A lifetime of using her father's reputation as a shield has left her without manners… or tact."
The words sounded unnatural coming from Yondu's jagged mouth. He was obviously playing to my ego.
I let him.
"You're Yondu, right?" I asked, dismissing my armor. It dissolved away, leaving me in a jacket, boots, pants, and a loose-fitting shirt.
"I asked you a question, Runesmith!" Nebula snapped.
Michael shot her a sharp look but didn't move to strike.
That alone was enough to unsettle the Ravagers.
One Peter Quill was hiding behind a particularly large alien, clearly trying to think his way out of this. The crew itself was an eclectic mix—Xandarians, Terrans, some from Yondu's species, and even a few Kree with biomechanical augmentations.
With a flick of my finger, I carved several sigils into the floor, forming a silencing array around both women. A thin thread of angelic energy powered it.
Yondu somehow managed to look even bluer.
"I just wanted to plead our case, your Lordship," he said, his confidence slipping. "You fought the purple bastard yourself, you know better than anyone that the will of an Infinity Stone isn't something an ordinary being can resist. He looked at us, and we were his. Mind slaves. We lost years of our lives. If you hadn't come along, we might've died like that."
"And now you might die in prison for your crimes as space pirates," I said lightly.
Some of the Ravagers bristled. A few shifted their stance. Others reached subtly for weapons.
I laughed.
The sound echoed through the ship.
Yondu's lips tightened, ready to call his telepathic arrow. I stopped things from escalating with a small wave.
"I really don't care, Yondu," I said. "I just wanted to see how far I could push you. I'm a simple man. Give me what I want, and you and your crew of ne'er-do-wells never have to see me again."
"And if we don't?" the first mate asked, voice unsteady.
"Then I vaporize you and take what I want anyway," I replied. "So, Yondu. What'll it be?"
Yondu stared at me so long that it had me in genuine suspense.
Then, slowly, his lips curled into a Cheshire grin.
"I knew you were the magnanimous sort."
"Right," I snapped my fingers. "First order of business—stop bowing and scraping. I can barely tolerate it from Michael. I don't need you doing it too."
Yondu nodded quickly.
I turned toward the girls, rubbing my chin.
"Now… what do I do with you?"
Read up to Chapter 262 on Patreon.com/artandcreativewriting.
After giving it some thought, I've decided to go back to edit the new devil trigger notification and figure out a renaming scheme that won't be so controversial. Thanks for the feedback.