Strictly speaking, neither of these objects looked anything like food.
The first was a block of… something. No one could tell what material it was made from, and its shape obeyed no rules whatsoever.
It was lumpy, jagged, uneven, and utterly lacking in smoothness. Even a dinner plate might reject it outright for being too unsightly.
And yet, under the light, its surface gleamed with shifting brilliance, refracting patterns that seemed almost deliberate.
Tony suspected that the object held some kind of encoded luminance, a "light cipher." Different angles of illumination, combined with the right auxiliary tools, might reveal hidden information woven into its depths.
Arthur, however, remained unconvinced.
The second item was far simpler in appearance, yet far more unsettling.
It was a cube, roughly the size of the Tesseract. It was perfectly black and seamless in its design. There were no markings on it, no seams, no hint of what it was made from. Just an eerie, flawless smoothness.
If Tony could still stretch his imagination to come up with a dozen half-baked theories for the first one, this cube left him with nothing.
Not even Star-Lord, after years of wandering the galaxy and rummaging through every kind of contraption and weapon, had seen anything remotely like it.
Tony could only guess it was once part of some advanced spacecraft… or perhaps a fragment from a weapon system far beyond their comprehension.
For now, its true function would have to wait until further research.
But for Arthur, the reaction was… different.
The moment he laid eyes on them, a primal urge rose within him. He wanted to bite them. To sink his teeth into the rough edges, or even just draw closer and swallow.
The feeling was disturbingly familiar. He had experienced something like this before, in the Knowhere, which made him wonder, unlike Tony's theories, whether these relics might be connected somehow to that colossal brain-like entity.
He couldn't be certain. But the thought lingered.
Tony and the others hadn't brought the items back on a whim. Deep underground, these two objects had been placed in the relic chamber with unmistakable reverence, as though they were the most valuable treasures there.
That level of ceremony couldn't be ignored.
Still, from Arthur's perspective, the "value" of these objects went beyond mere speculation.
When he picked up the irregular block, a familiar prompt appeared before his eyes:
[Would you like to Disassemble: Pseudo-Mystic Lifeform Component (Fragment)?]
"…"
Arthur put it down slowly, then lifted the cube.
[Would you like to Disassemble: Pseudo-Mystic Lifeform Energy Crystal (Fragment)?]
"…"
This time, his hesitation deepened.
Pseudo-Mystic Lifeform?
Until now, Arthur had never even heard the term. And yet, his Disassembler was already working on exactly such an entity, Ego.
"Wait… are these pieces actually fragments of a Celestial?"
Arthur rubbed his chin. If he secretly disassembled them right here and now… what would happen?
His eyes flicked toward Tony, who was already deep in analysis, and Banner, who was animatedly rattling off hypotheses. Arthur thought for a long moment. Then, with effort, he swallowed the impulse, burying the dangerous idea deep inside.
Disassemble Them… or Not
Disassembling the relics might grant immense benefits, but it could just as easily unleash the most terrifying dangers.
And worse… those dangers might not come from the outside. They could come from within, from behind.
Arthur knew this all too well. Back when he first fought alongside Steve, he'd learned the hard way that the deadliest strike was the one you never saw coming. That dazzling slide maneuver of Steve's, Arthur still held a grudge over its failure, even after seventy years.
So instead of acting rashly, he leaned casually against a bulkhead, waiting. Tony and Banner were deep in discussion, Star-Lord was making jokes, T'Challa offered the occasional cryptic theory… All of them so absorbed, so busy,
Arthur couldn't help but think: Have they completely forgotten something?
Half an hour passed before he finally clapped his hands together, exasperated.
"Tell me, has it slipped your mind that our spaceship has been hovering over their royal palace for almost an hour now? When exactly do you plan to finish?"
Tony and Banner froze, then turned to stare at him.
"Wait, why are you still here?" Tony asked.
"Weren't you supposed to go down there immediately and talk sense into them?" Banner added.
Arthur's face darkened. "Do you people even understand the meaning of teamwork?"
"I get it, I get it!" Star-Lord raised his hands quickly. "So… are we finally starting?"
Arthur's scowl deepened. "Did you plan to spend the rest of your lives in this spaceship? Everyone, suit up. Banner, the moment we land, you transform. Let's give them a grand, and unforgettable, greeting."
"That's a bit too violent, don't you think?" Banner hesitated. "Hulk's manners aren't so bad these days. Won't this just trigger… solid-state aggression?"
"Don't be stupid." Arthur yanked open the concealed hatch. "I wanted to infiltrate quietly. But since you're all so damned idle, down you go, all of you…"
He was seconds away from tossing them out one by one.
Tony made a quick gesture, summoning his armor. As the helmet sealed around his head, he quipped, "You know, Arthur, old men with tempers like yours don't usually live long." Then with a roar of jets, he shot into the sky.
Arthur followed, releasing a flood of Šumer constructs from his Disassembler space. J.A.R.V.I.S. instantly linked with them, assuming tactical command.
Banner fumbled into his suit, then hurled himself from the ship. Midair, his body ballooned like an overinflated sphere, swelling into a stubby-legged giant. He slammed into the ground with an earth-shaking boom, ripped the head off a palace statue, bellowed twice, and hurled the stone head straight onto the royal roof, collapsing it in one blow.
One by one, the others leapt down.
When T'Challa's turn came, he muttered, "When you visited Wakanda, fortunately you didn't make an entrance like this…" Then he too descended gracefully into the chaos.
Arthur wasn't done. He released the rest of their squad from his Disassembler space, and deployed another battleship entirely.
One ship remained under remote control. Natasha, perched aboard, locked targets across the battlefield, ready to rain down fire.
Arthur vanished from the hatch, reappearing above the palace, wings spread wide as he hovered in the air. His voice rolled out like thunder.
"Unfortunate news. Your palace is now surrounded. If you don't want to be utterly annihilated, lay down your arms and surrender.
I don't know if the galaxy has any formal convention on protecting civilizations, but if you choose rashness over reason, then mark my words… these orders will be carved onto your tombstones."