Yes—this Marvel universe also had its own system. Because of that, those unknown, terrifying entities lurking in the dark corners of reality wouldn't waste their attention on something as "ordinary" as a system interface.
Thanos scanned the items floating on the panel. He didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat before choosing to upgrade his destructive power.
"Ding! The host has chosen to consume 100,000 points of Origin to upgrade the Power of Destruction."
A moment later, the only skill on his panel changed.
Power of Destruction → World Destroyer Power.
Inside his body, the destructive energy began to shift. The light purple hue deepened, darkening into a heavy, ominous violet, as if reality itself were being stained by it.
Thanos frowned slightly.
The energy within him had clearly decreased in quantity—but what remained felt denser, purer, sharper. Like crude ore refined into a blade.
Strangely enough, there wasn't much pain. No dramatic backlash, no earth-shattering sensation. The change was subtle, almost quiet, as though the system had performed this operation countless times before and found it beneath notice.
That alone said a lot.
It seemed the system had already reached the level of origin-level manipulation. At the very least, it should be roughly on par with the God of Death.
Of course, with his current strength, Thanos couldn't confirm that theory. Guessing at the ceiling while standing on the ground was pointless.
Once the transaction was complete, the system quickly fell silent again, pretending to be nothing more than a basic, obedient interface.
But Thanos wasn't fooled.
He understood very well that the power he had obtained from the God of Death had likely been consumed almost entirely by the system.
This wasn't charity.
It was a transaction.
After all, without the system, he would never have been able to refine the God of Death's power in the first place.
As he lay back on the soft bed, feeling the newly transformed destructive energy circulate through his body, his thoughts drifted to the tangled web of cause and effect within the Marvel universe.
From the movies and comics he vaguely remembered from his previous life, he knew the names of certain… things. Beings that didn't belong on the same scale as mortals.
At the very top sat the One-Above-All and the First Firmament—the unquestionable ceiling of the Marvel universe.
Below them were existences like the Molecular Man, the power of the three ancient gods, the Living Tribunal, and the Transcendent Ones—entities that functioned less like individuals and more like rules given form.
Further down were the Five Great Gods, the Celestial Race, the Dimensional Demon Gods, and countless other divine horrors lurking between dimensions.
Even Nemesis, the original form of the Infinity Stones, was a mystery. No one knew whether she was truly dead, had escaped unscathed, or was simply waiting behind the scenes, pulling strings.
If Nemesis were still alive, she would be at least on the level of the Living Tribunal. After all, she was the embodiment of the universe itself.
If someone tried to tell Thanos that these beings were all "nice guys," he wouldn't believe it.
Not even if they beat him to death and resurrected him just to explain it again.
Could a genuinely kind being really climb to that level of power? They'd have been devoured long before reaching the top.
No—the Marvel universe was a battlefield for the upper echelons. Everyone below them, including himself, was just a chess piece.
And right now, Thanos was certain of one thing.
He was a pawn in the God of Death's war against the Celestials.
The Celestials required intelligent life to cultivate planets and give birth to more of their kind.
The God of Death required death. Endless, universe-spanning death.
Naturally, they were enemies.
The God of Death's task for him—to gather the six Infinity Stones and wipe out half of all life—wasn't just about increasing power. It was also a deliberate attempt to delay the birth of new Celestials.
On top of that, the God of Death had recently confirmed something troubling.
The one interfering with his thoughts earlier… was a Celestial.
Which one, he didn't know. But at that level, it had to be a multiverse-grade existence.
Still, Thanos doubted the conflict was limited to just the God of Death and the Celestials.
When he had nearly killed Captain Marvel, someone—or something—had saved her.
And whoever that was hadn't bothered to show themselves.
After turning the problem over in his mind and finding no new answers, Thanos opened his eyes and rose from the bed.
Outside, the sky was only just beginning to brighten. The sun hadn't even bothered to show its face yet.
The moment he stood up, servants arrived with a lavish meal, laid out with almost excessive care.
At his current level, Thanos no longer needed food to survive. Still, eating allowed him to extract energy in another way, so he hadn't abandoned the habit.
By the time he finished, the sun had fully risen.
That was when Gamora appeared.
She was dressed in simple, casual clothes, a sharp contrast to her usual armor. Four others followed behind her.
She stepped forward, lowered her head, and spoke quickly, as if afraid he might interrupt.
"Father, I know I was wrong. Please forgive me."
The Dark Order hadn't restricted their movement much. They simply couldn't leave the temple.
So after returning to her room, Gamora had discussed their options with the other four.
They all agreed on one thing: if Thanos truly intended to abandon her, he wouldn't have allowed them to stay at all. Aside from being confined to Sanctuary, they hadn't been mistreated in any way.
Which meant… there was still hope.
Naturally, they decided Gamora should take the lead again.
Persuasion. Emotional appeal. The classics.
Or, as some might put it—let's see if we can fool him.
No—influence him.
So the moment she entered, Gamora chose to confess outright.
Unfortunately for her, she didn't notice the expressions behind her.
Star-Lord and Rocket Raccoon were staring past Thanos entirely, eyes practically glowing as they locked onto the Infinity Gauntlet resting beside him.
Rocket's mouth was slightly open.
Star-Lord wasn't even pretending to be subtle anymore.
They weren't thinking about forgiveness.
They were thinking about stealing it.
Otherwise, they never would have been allowed to come along in the first place.
Thanos swallowed the last bite of bread in his massive hand, washed it down with a slow sip of milk, then glanced at Gamora with cool indifference."I'm going to train," he said flatly. "You'll remain in the Sanctuary until Nebula finds the Soul Stone. Until then, you are not permitted to leave."
With a lazy wave of his hand, the Infinity Gauntlet snapped through the air and settled onto his arm as if it belonged there—which, disturbingly, it did. Thanos turned and walked away without another word.
Gamora instinctively stepped after him, frustration burning in her eyes, but the soldiers of the Black Order moved in unison, blocking her path without so much as a glance.
As Thanos vanished from sight, Star-Lord and Rocket finally looked away, both wearing the same deeply unimpressed expression.
"Damn it," Star-Lord muttered. "This guy's nothing like the ones we've dealt with before."
Rocket snorted. "Yeah. Usually villains at least pretend we exist."
Nearby, Groot and Drax stared at everyone in silence, clearly sensing that something important had just happened, while having absolutely no clue what that something was.
In the Guardians of the Galaxy, Star-Lord and Rocket were the planners and problem-solvers, the ones who came up with wild ideas and somehow made them work. Gamora, however, was the one who made the final calls—and when she was blocked like this, it never ended quietly.
…
Not long after, Thanos boarded the Sanctuary II and set off once more, resuming his journey across the stars to continue absorbing planetary cores.
Seated upon his throne, he spoke calmly into the vastness of the ship."Deep Blue, lower the security level of the temple guards. When the time is right, allow Gamora and the others to escape."
A faint glimmer of calculation flashed through his eyes.
His earlier warning—that she would only be released once Nebula found the Soul Stone—had been deliberate. A carefully placed spark.
Gamora had grown up. She no longer obeyed him blindly. But her nature hadn't changed.
Right now, she was undoubtedly already plotting how to break out of the temple and reach the Soul Stone before Nebula did. And that impatience… that defiance… was exactly what he intended to use.
"Yes, Master," Deep Blue replied.
With his orders given, Thanos closed his eyes and turned inward, carefully sensing the world-destroying power flowing through his body.
This force was purer—far more potent—than ordinary annihilation. If his body could continue to absorb it…
With sufficient energy, it might even be refined to the level of a single universe.
At that point, even something once considered mere cannon fodder could be elevated into a truly meaningful piece.
After all, in the Marvel universe, only those who reached the multiversal level were even qualified to sit at the chessboard—let alone call themselves players.
Time passed, unnoticed.
Then suddenly, Shen Lan's voice echoed in his mind.
"Master, General Corvus Glaive is requesting an audience."
Thanos opened his eyes. A deep purple light flickered within them, sharp and cold.
"Put him through."
.....
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