Levi tossed the translator back to the officer.
"I'm not here to fight," he said in newly acquired Universal, his tone calm. "I'm a traveler. My ship had an accident and fell into a nearby spatial fold. I need a star map—and an energy supply."
The officer obviously didn't believe him.
A "traveler" who could tear apart energy nets barehanded and bend bullets midair?
What kind of traveler was that?
"You'll need to prove your intentions," the officer said cautiously, hand still resting near his weapon.
"Prove it?" Levi found that faintly amusing. He didn't want to waste time—but clearly, subtlety wasn't enough.
He didn't raise a hand.
Didn't make a gesture.
He simply looked at the twelve soldiers in front of him.
The next second, the barrels of all twelve energy rifles flared a blinding red—like they'd been shoved into a furnace.
"Ahh!"
"My weapon—!"
The soldiers cried out and dropped their guns. The advanced alloy barrels softened and sagged like melting wax, smoke curling into the air.
The entire process took less than two seconds.
Levi hadn't even blinked.
Silence swallowed the plaza.
The officer stared at the liquefied metal, then at Levi—his face pale beneath the helmet.
This silent, precision-based display was far more terrifying than any bombardment.
He immediately transmitted a highest-priority emergency report.
---
Nova Corps Headquarters
Supreme Command Center
Nova Prime Irani Rael watched the live feed.
When she saw the rifles melt without detectable energy signatures, she straightened in her seat.
"Energy analysis?" she asked sharply.
"None, Nova Prime," a technician replied, voice tight. "There are no measurable emissions. It's as if… as if the laws of physics themselves were altered. We have no database match."
Irani Rael fell silent.
Entities of this magnitude either became allies—
Or catastrophic enemies.
And the Nova Empire had only just survived a major war.
"We will comply with his requests," she decided. "Grant him highest-clearance star charts. Provide whatever resources he requires. Do not provoke him. Let him leave as quickly as possible. Classify him as 'Unknown Threat.' Maximum confidentiality."
"Yes, Nova Prime."
---
Back in the plaza, the officer received the order. His gaze shifted from suspicion to something closer to reverence.
"Sir, your request has been approved. Nova Prime wishes to meet you personally."
Levi nodded, ready to follow—
When the city's alarms blared again.
This one sharper. Higher threat level.
The officer's comm unit crackled:
"Report! Massive breakout at Kyln Prison! Class-A offenders Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Groot—along with 'Drax the Destroyer'—have escaped! They've stolen a prisoner transport and are fleeing!"
The officer stiffened—and glanced at Levi.
A godlike stranger arrives.
And the galaxy's most notorious criminals break out simultaneously?
Coincidence?
"Sir," the officer said carefully, "does this escape have anything to do with you?"
Levi's good mood evaporated.
He hated nonsense like this.
"No."
"We'll require you to remain for investigation."
Levi smiled faintly.
"I don't have time to play cops and robbers."
He closed his eyes.
His senses expanded instantly, spreading across near-orbit like an invisible net. He detected an overstrained engine signature tearing through space at unsafe output levels.
Found them.
"Actually… I'm a little curious about that bunch of idiots."
He vanished.
Leaving behind stunned Nova Corps soldiers.
---
Stolen Prison Transport – Orbit of Xandar
Chaos reigned inside the battered ship.
"Hurry, hurry! Those Nova dogs are right behind us!" Rocket shouted, frantically operating the controls with oversized paws.
"I am Groot!" the tree-being waved his branches.
"I KNOW you're Groot! Shut up!"
In the pilot's seat, a man in a red leather jacket bobbed his leg to vintage music playing through his headphones.
"Relax, everybody," Peter Quill whistled. "We're out. That's the important part."
"Quill!" Gamora snapped coldly. "If you don't fly faster, we'll be right back in a cell!"
"Silence!" Drax roared, bare chest covered in red tattoos. "Ronan still lives! I will kill him!"
Suddenly—
The ship lurched violently.
Not from impact.
It felt like hitting an invisible wall.
Everyone was thrown forward.
"What the hell?!" Rocket squeaked.
"We've… stopped," Quill muttered, staring at the starfield outside. The ship was hovering unnaturally in space.
A voice echoed inside the cockpit.
"You're loud."
They spun around.
A man in Earth-style casual clothing stood behind them.
"Who are you?!" Rocket snapped, raising his massive energy rifle.
Drax charged instantly.
The man merely lifted his gaze.
Hummm—
An invisible force enveloped the cockpit.
[Spatial Lock]
After surviving wormholes and cosmic folds, Levi's [Spatial Manipulation] had advanced to an intermediate tier. He now wielded refined applications of spatial law.
The air solidified.
Rocket froze mid-aim, like an insect trapped in amber. He couldn't move a finger.
Drax remained suspended mid-charge, face twisted in fury as invisible pressure crushed from all sides.
Gamora's arm felt impossibly heavy.
Quill was pinned to the pilot's seat, unable to even turn his eyes.
Only the music in his headphones continued:
"O-o-h child… things are gonna get easier…"
Levi strolled casually through the frozen air and stopped in front of Quill.
"Eighties style," he observed. "You're from Earth?"
Quill's pupils shrank.
"You—"
"I don't care where you're going or who you're trying to kill," Levi interrupted calmly. "I'm here to tell you not to cause me trouble. The Nova Corps think I'm your accomplice."
His gaze swept the immobilized group.
"I just want to go home. Maybe explore a few civilizations along the way. I won't interfere with your plans. I'll be returning to Earth soon."
Frankly, developing in the wider universe sounded more appealing than arguing with Earth's governments.
He extended a finger and traced it lightly across the control console.
Szzzt—
The reinforced alloy panel split like tofu, leaving a smooth, mirror-like incision sparking with electricity.
A demonstration.
"Understood?"
Quill nodded stiffly.
Levi released the lock.
Air returned to normal.
Drax slammed face-first into a wall from his interrupted momentum.
Rocket gasped for breath, glancing down at his rifle—now subtly warped along the barrel.
"Who the hell are you?" Quill asked, staring at the sliced console.
"A guy from Earth who wants to go home," Levi replied, walking toward the hatch. "If you need help, I'm available. For a price."
He vanished.
Silence filled the ship.
The old song continued playing softly.
"…things'll get brighter…"
"What was that?" Rocket asked shakily.
No one answered.
Quill removed his headphones slowly.
He'd met pirates, bounty hunters, monsters.
But nothing—
Nothing like that man.
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