Marvel With Zanpakutou

Chapter 793: Everything Unfolds According to the Plot

The Supreme... Divinity?!

Lord furrowed his brows tightly, overwhelmed by the immense amount of information in just a few sentences.

An existence that transcends everything?

Both the cause and the result?

Is it encompassing the sum of all things?

Setting aside whether such a thing exists, just the near-mystical description alone was enough to confuse anyone, completely obscuring any clear meaning.

Was this old creature... trying to deceive him?

Lord eyed him sceptically, trying to discern any sign of deceit.

"Don’t try to understand it."

The Collector smiled and did not elaborate further. Instead, he stood up and began pacing around the ruins, picking up and repositioning fallen collectables as he spoke: "It is beyond the realm of understanding by nature; rather than trying to understand, it’s better to accept."

"Have you... seen it?"

Lord asked.

"Those who have seen it are all dead."

The Collector, playing with a duck figure without turning around, said, "I’ve never actually seen it myself; I’ve just lived so long that I’ve heard about it from others."

"If you’ve never seen it, why would you rather die than reveal its existence?" Lord asked, his brow furrowed.

"Some things, you don’t need to see with your own eyes to know they’re dangerous," the Collector turned around, his smile cryptic. "No one has ever seen the Heart of the Universe, but have you ever heard anyone question its existence?"

Lord was speechless.

That made sense...

The power of the Heart of the Universe doesn’t need any proof; just a rumour, true or false, is enough to draw the attention of countless top forces in the universe.

But there was still something he didn’t understand.

Who had informed him about this secret if the Collector had never seen the Twin Flower yet knew of its significance?

The Collector, sitting next to the duck, seemed to guess what Lord was about to ask: "You want to know who told me about the Twin Flower, right?"

Lord nodded openly, "And other information about the Twin Flower; I want to know all of it."

"You know, I like to collect things," the Collector said with a smile. "Aside from common treasures and rare creatures, I also collect many secrets, like the information about the Heart of the Universe, for instance."

Lord frowned, remaining silent.

"My most valuable collection isn’t these tangible items, though, but this," the Collector pointed to his head, grinning. "The Twin Flower... is the only item I will never display in my millions of years of collecting."

"You mean you won’t tell me?"

Lord understood that he would have lived in vain if he hadn’t comprehended it by now.

"It’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t," the Collector said. "Until I can be sure of safety, I won’t divulge its secrets, whether to you or Michael. The answer is the same."

"What does ’real safety’ mean?"

Lord was confused, almost wanting to draw his sword and cut down this riddler.

"Unspeakable, unspeakable."

The Collector smiled meaningfully, "Some things, once spoken, are not only known to you."

Lord was silent, his heart sinking.

He felt he could vaguely guess why the Collector was unwilling to speak.

"However... I can give you a piece of information," the Collector picked up an item nearby and tossed it to Lord, "The secret of the Twin Flower was told to me by this person."

Lord caught the thrown item.

It was a rusted cross made of brass, not precisely a valuable artefact.

The answer was nearly revealed; the one who informed the Collector... was God!

Unexpected yet reasonable.

With careful thought, it wasn’t hard to deduce that God had told him.

"I will come looking for you again."

Lord’s gaze sharpened, understanding his implication, and he stored the cross in the shadow space, smiling, "I hope that by then, we can speak freely."

"Sure, I’ll be waiting for you."

The Collector smiled meaningfully, "The plan will proceed as intended; the situation on Xandar is in your hands."

"And remember to make that raccoon return the knives." Lord left a parting word before vanishing like smoke.

"Small matter."

The Collector laughed and agreed, though even if Lord hadn’t mentioned it, he would have found a way to make Rocket take the knives.

...

...

...

Inside the Collector’s Museum, it was peaceful and calm.

But outside, the world had turned upside down; Ronan’s fleet’s indiscriminate attacks had turned half the city into a battlefield.

"Ronan!!!"

Driven by hatred, Drax, with inexhaustible rage, roared as he charged at the Accuser Ronan.

Night after night, haunted by memories and tortured by the scene of his family’s death, hatred was what kept him alive.

Today, he could finally achieve his desire.

Drax’s eyes glowed crimson, and his blade-like sharp weapon sliced through the air with a whoosh, aiming to decapitate his foe with thunderous force.

He was determined to make Ronan pay a bloody price!

As the blade approached, Ronan, displaying a sneer, dodged easily and then casually threw a punch, hitting Drax square in the chest.

Boom.

What seemed like a casual punch from Ronan exploded with tremendous force; the sound of flesh and bone meeting resonated, followed by the sound of cracking bones.

Drax, like a kite with its string cut, was hurled back, spitting blood as he crashed into a wall buried in the rubble.

"Gamora, quickly retrieve the Orb."

Without glancing at Drax, whom he had felled, Ronan walked towards his ship, planning to chase down Gamora.

"Stop... stop!"

Drax crawled out of the rubble, his face slashed open in several places, blood streaming down his face, making his already ferocious appearance even more terrifying: "You killed my wife and daughter; I must avenge them!"

"Your wife and daughter?"

Ronan tilted his head, thought momentarily, then scoffed, "I don’t remember you, your wife and daughter. Besides, I’ve killed too many to keep track of."

"Ronan!"

Enraged by these words, Drax roared and lunged again.

Boom!

Ronan raised his hand and punched again, burying Drax’s face into the ground with such force that his skull shattered, burying the man halfway into the earth.

The disparity in strength was too great.

The visible chasm was not something that rage could bridge.

Reality is not an anime.

Justice does not always prevail; rage does not make you explode with power, nor does it make you suddenly strong enough to defeat someone you couldn’t beat before.

Ronan, the supreme Accuser of the Kree Empire.

Just the species that had died at his hands numbered too many to count; people like Drax seeking revenge were as common as carp crossing a river, and they had no chance even to fight back in his presence.

But alas...

Trash remains trash, an unchangeable fact. How could he hope to defeat him now if he couldn’t protect his family?

"Ah, ah, ah—"

Drax howled, trying to stand and fight again, but before he could even lift his head, a foot came crashing down.

Bang!

Ronan stomped half of Drax’s head into the ground, looking down from above at the furious Drax with a smirk, "You’re just like all the other rubbish I’ve forgotten. But it doesn’t matter; I’ll soon forget you after today, just like your wife and daughter."

"Ronan, let him go this time."

The Collector, holding his duck, walked out from the ruins, smiling, "Consider it a favour for me, okay?"

"Collector..."

Ronan looked at him intensely, chuckled briefly, and kicked Drax away, saying, "People who meddle too much usually don’t live long. You’d better be careful."

"Thanks for the warning."

The Collector responded lightly, "How long I live is already determined. But I should remind you, the Orb isn’t so simple."

"What do you mean?"

Ronan frowned, asking.

"Hehe..."

The Collector smiled meaningfully, "You might want to open it and see. Maybe you’ll find a surprise."

In a universe where the balance of power is perpetually contested, knowledge can be a double-edged sword, wielded for protection or exploitation. As the Collector and Lord navigate their cryptic dance of information exchange, Ronan’s relentless pursuit of power threatens to unleash chaos, drawing all parties towards an inevitable confrontation. Meanwhile, Drax’s quest for vengeance casts a long, dark shadow over his path, reminding us that the past, however painful, is inexorably linked to our present actions and future outcomes. Every character must tread carefully in this complex web of motives and secrets, for one misstep could lead to destruction or redemption.