Chapter 1390: Call of the Stars (25) (Patreon)

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Until they walked out of the newspaper office, Quill and Rocket Raccoon were still reeling from the shock of the world's situation. Their long interstellar journey had broadened their horizons, and although they had seen many disasters, most of them were brutal and simple.

Either it was a homeworld changing its orbit and wiping out its inhabitants, or a sun exploding and destroying civilizations. Natural disasters in space were more frequent than human-made ones, making it hard to imagine a species being directly transformed into another form of life, let alone maintaining its original social order.

This wasn't entirely surprising, but more like a sense of wonder, or what's known as "the beauty of the absurd."

The two of them walked along the tree-lined path beside the newspaper office, heading towards New York's Central Park. They weren't planning to go back and investigate, but rather to cross the park and return to the city to find other possible clues.

However, Rocket Raccoon suddenly fixed his gaze on Quill's arm, and he couldn't help but lean forward, using his claws to tap Quill's face and say, "Did you notice? You've scratched your own arm 16 times in the past three minutes. If you're trying to remind me of your terrible experience last night, I can only tell you, well done, you succeeded, and now I feel like vomiting."

"Cut it out," Quill thought Rocket Raccoon was just trying to liven up the atmosphere, so he tightened his backpack and turned his head to gaze at the sunset on the horizon, saying, "Since we can't find a way to leave here for the time being, we might need to find a long-term base. It should have some security measures, so you can lock me up when I go crazy."

"I'm not joking," Rocket Raccoon raised his voice, feeling annoyed at being doubted. He used his claws to poke Quill's face, making his body tilt to one side.

Quill's temper flared up, and he wanted to let Rocket Raccoon know that it wasn't wise to mess with a being of a different size. He tried to grab Rocket Raccoon, but before his hand could touch him, Rocket Raccoon let out a pitiful cry.

"Don't do that, old buddy, this isn't fun," Quill complained. "I didn't even touch you, and in a baseball game, that wouldn't even count as a score."

"It's not that, it's not that I'm saying you didn't see which hand you used!" Rocket Raccoon exclaimed.

Quill looked down at his hand and discovered that the hand he had stretched out was the one he had cut off. He sighed and said, "Okay, it seems I still haven't adapted to being a one-armed hero, but you should be grateful, or you would have been thrown to the ground by now."

"But you just touched me!" Rocket Raccoon's voice trembled as he said, "You just captured my tail with your hand!"

"Ah?"

Quill let out a puzzled sound, and for a moment, he was confused about which hand was missing.

When he came to, he looked at his remaining hand and said, "I feel like both hands exist, yes, I can feel it."

After saying that, Quill lifted his half-remaining arm, and as if controlling the air, he stroked Rocket Raccoon's head.

Rocket Raccoon instantly went ballistic, feeling that his overhead had really been touched by a hand. The sensation of his fur being stroked made him shudder and let out a terrifying scream, almost jumping onto Quill's shoulder.

"Has my hand come back?" Quill looked at his severed arm with an incredulous gaze, as if he saw a brand new hand there.

No, it wasn't just his hand; he could now bend his arm at an angle that was absolutely impossible for his hand to reach Rocket Raccoon's head, the distance was too far.

"A remote-controlled hand, what is that, telekinesis?" Quill thought.

Quill still couldn't resist trying out his new ability. He flung his remaining half-arm forward, and instantly, the fallen leaves in front of him seemed to be grasped by the air, floating up slowly. When he used his brain to command his hand to release, the leaves fell back down.

That was his hand, Quill was certain.

"My god, you never told me you were a telekinesis master!" Rocket Raccoon was shocked, jumping up and down on Quill's shoulder, then patting his hair with his claws like a drum.

"I just acquired this ability, just now, just..." Quill said, unable to resist looking back. The horizon at the end of the road was no longer sunset, but had quietly fallen into night.

"This is an evolution," Quill furrowed his brows, staring at his arm. His rich experience had broadened his imagination, and he said, "You have to lose a part of your body first before you can evolve."

"That's what the tourists who went out at night and got injured reported. Their families couldn't believe that going out at night and rolling down a mountain would make them lose a whole leg and several fingers, but maybe that's a precursor to evolution."

"Are you saying that you've evolved into a sticky, gooey monster?" Rocket Raccoon said incredulously, grasping Quill's ear with his paw. "Look around you, those monsters, even in interstellar civilizations, are considered ugly and freakish!"

"No, no, no," Quill replied, shaking his head. "Let's assume, let's assume that those things aren't the purified products, but rather failed experiments."

"Failed experiments?"

"Correct," Quill said, looking down at his non-existent but tangible hand. "And I'm the successful product."

"Assuming they're just failed remnants, and I'm the successful one, what's the difference between us? Why did they become almost powerless, only able to follow their instincts, while I... I gained abilities that are positively reinforced, at least for now?"

"What's the difference between you and them?" Rocket Raccoon asked, frowning, and then said, "Didn't you tell me before that you have alien blood, from that Spartax Empire prince... your father?"

"I think that's not the key point," Quill said. "People from the Spartax Empire are indeed stronger than humans, especially physically. My body is also better than humans, otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to smash and cut off an arm and still be alive and kicking the next day."

Rocket Raccoon looked like he was about to vomit again, taking a deep breath. "At least your willpower is stronger than humans. Humans would definitely be crying and gasping for air."

"This is also a benefit from the Spartax Empire bloodline," Quill acknowledged. "It's a nation that's been at war for years, similar to Asgard, but not as strong. Maybe they've evolved to eliminate pain during their evolution process, and I don't feel much pain, even from a young age."

"I want to say that I didn't tell you before, when I was working at NASA, I had a dispute with an important astronaut, a director's person."

"I was so angry when I got fired that I stole a spaceship, which was a Kree Empire spaceship previously seized by NASA, and flew it into space. But you know, a spaceship that crashes on Earth usually doesn't have a good ending, and the Kree Empire's spaceship is no exception. This place is basically a spaceship graveyard."

"That spaceship broke down halfway, and I crashed on an unfamiliar planet. Later, I was picked up by Yondu, but there was an important process in between, which was the spaceship crashing, and I saw a radiant figure beckoning me after I passed out."

"He called himself the 'Sun Lord'... or something else, I forgot. He said my heart was full of hatred and couldn't bear the responsibility of being the Star-Lord. He wanted me to let go of my hatred and accept his power, but I refused, because I was determined to avenge my mother at the time."

"Later, I saw his figure several times during my ordeals, and I'm sure he left some kind of mark on me or in my heart. This might be the fundamental reason why I didn't die despite facing many dangers."

After listening to this story, Rocket Raccoon hesitated for a moment, then speculated, "That so-called Sun Lord might be a Cosmic God or some other kind of god, who wants to make you his spokesperson."

"I think it's possible."

"You didn't agree, but he might have left some power with you to tempt you or make you waver. Did you feel his power before?"

"I'm not sure, I'm not sure if my superhuman physical abilities and multiple near-death experiences are due to the Spartax Empire bloodline or the Sun Lord's power."

"It seems that you're indeed extraordinary," Rocket Raccoon said, stroking his chin. "At least, you're far beyond ordinary humans. I've never heard of any ordinary human who can survive a spaceship crash on an unfamiliar planet and only end up unconscious. Your body is much stronger than those fragile humans."

"This is likely a key reason why I became a successful product," Quill said, scanning the surroundings, where the monsters' silhouettes could still be seen in the distance. "Ordinary humans' fragile bodies and minds make them unable to withstand this kind of evolution, while those stronger, more resilient, and more determined beings will grow new branches after surviving the initial ordeal."

"Is this a selection mechanism?" Quill asked himself. "Eliminating the ordinary, fragile, and unstable, and leaving behind the suitable branches that can bloom and bear fruit?"

Quill's tone was trembling, and he was shocked by his own speculation. This was a more macro-level natural selection, without the slow, millions-of-years-long evolution, but rather a direct method of selecting the most suitable.

Who was controlling all of this?

This thought flashed through Quill's mind, and he felt a sense of guilt and sin. No, any intelligent life with a sense of order would find it difficult to exhibit such grandeur. This must be unconscious, natural, and terrifyingly beautiful.

Quill looked around, and the surroundings were in ruins. In this rapid evolution symphony, there were no human winners. They succumbed to fear, and all became remnants. The echoes of the music left behind the blessed outsiders, who became the lucky ones.

When Quill thought of this, he didn't feel a hint of happiness, but rather a anger that made him clench his teeth. But it wasn't for the failed losers.

Because he seemed to hear, in the faint distance, a call from the depths of the stars, echoing in the humid night air of New York.

That call, specifically related to his current situation, became a slightly mocking and teasing — "What a strong and lucky dog you are."

Quill wanted to cut off the remaining half of his arm.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter ->Chapter 1391: Call of the Stars (26)