The waterlogged temple corridors, already cramped and suffocating, felt even smaller as the air crackled with imminent violence. On one side stood Felicia Hardy, her silver hair shimmering in the dim light, her stance a low, predatory crouch. Opposite her, the cybernetic assassin Nebula regarded her with a cold, analytical gaze, her mechanical eye whirring almost imperceptibly.
The fight exploded without a word.
Felicia moved like a phantom, a blur of black and silver against the corroded metal walls. She ricocheted off the bulkheads, using the confined space to build bewildering momentum. Her vibranium-laced claws, sharp enough to score steel, flashed through the air, weaving a web of deadly strikes aimed at Nebula's throat and joints.
But Nebula was a being forged for murder by the Mad Titan himself. Her every movement was brutally efficient, her limbs augmented not with scrap but with combat-grade cybernetics. Her electronic eye processed Felicia's trajectory, predicting the arc of each leap and the angle of every slash fractions of a second before they happened. She didn't dodge so much as shift, moving just enough to let the claws whisper past her armor, countering with piston-like jabs that carried bone-shattering force.
The battle on Ben's side was less a duel and more an overwhelming, verdant tide. As Wildvine, he faced the half-dozen Kree soldiers accompanying Nebula. He wasn't a brawler like Four Arms or a living weapon like Diamondhead; his power was of a different nature entirely. Where other aliens had raw strength, Wildvine possessed the indomitable, relentless vitality of nature itself.
Thick, thorny vines erupted from his body, multiplying in a horrifying display of growth. They surged forward, a writhing torrent of green that flooded the narrow passageway. Like a thousand striking serpents, they lashed out, ensnaring the Kree soldiers, binding their limbs and weapons before they could even properly aim.
The soldiers fought back. Blue-white energy bolts from their rifles tore through the air, ripping into the mass of foliage. One volley blasted a gaping hole in the vegetative shield, and several beams struck Ben's torso, blowing a significant portion of his body away in a shower of shredded plant matter. The acrid smell of burnt chlorophyll filled the corridor.
Seeing the damage, the Kree warriors roared with renewed confidence.
"Keep firing! We have him!"
"Tear that pile of weeds apart!"
Their barrage intensified, a storm of energy that chewed through the living barricade.
"Ben, are you alright?" Felicia called out, her voice tight with concern as she parried a blow from Nebula's electrified baton.
"Don't worry about me," Ben's voice replied, unnaturally calm. Even as he spoke, new vines sprouted and wove themselves together, seamlessly regenerating the massive wound in his chest. The concept of injury felt foreign to him in this form; damage was merely a temporary state, an inconvenience to be regrown.
Reassured, Felicia refocused on her opponent, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. But that momentary distraction was all Nebula needed.
"You dare look away in the middle of a battle?" Nebula's voice was a low, mechanical growl laced with contempt. "Rookie."
Her right palm, a complex piece of integrated machinery, snapped open. An energy core, glowing with the same malevolent light as an Iron Man repulsor, charged in an instant. She unleashed a concussive blast without a shred of mercy. The powerful shockwave slammed into Felicia, throwing her through the air like a ragdoll.
Just as she was about to crash into the far wall, a cradle of soft vines shot out from Ben's position, catching her gently.
Felicia shook her head, a low groan escaping her lips as she pushed herself to her feet. The purple circuitry etched into her nano-tech suit glowed brightly before dimming, having absorbed the brunt of the impact. The kinetic force had still rattled her, but the dizziness only fueled the simmering rage inside her.
Nebula's mechanical eye narrowed in surprise. "You can actually withstand a point-blank shockwave cannon?"
"Withstand it?" Felicia let out a cold, sharp laugh. With a snarl, she launched herself forward again, landing deliberately two meters away from Nebula—just outside of immediate striking distance. Nebula braced herself, her internal processors calculating every possible angle of attack.
"Is that all you—"
BOOM!
Before Nebula could finish her taunt, the purple light on Felicia's suit flared violently. A massive, omnidirectional shockwave erupted from her body, releasing all the kinetic energy she had just absorbed in a single, devastating blast.
"What—!" Nebula's protest was cut short as the returned force hit her like a freight train, sending her flying backward into a heap of twisted metal.
Felicia brushed a stray lock of silver hair from her face, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. "Courtesy of Primus Technologies, chrome dome!"
Seeing his opening, Ben went on the offensive. "You want to trade explosions?" he mused, his tone deceptively casual. Black, gourd-like spheres began to bud and grow from his vine-covered arms. "We can trade explosions."
With a flick of his wrists, he hurled a volley of seed pods toward the remaining Kree soldiers. They detonated on impact, setting off a chain reaction of concussive blasts that shook the entire undersea ruin, filling it with fire, shrapnel, and the screams of the Kree.
Elsewhere in the labyrinthine temple, T'Challa and Captain America were locked in a desperate struggle against a squad led by Gamora, the most dangerous woman in the galaxy. Her skill was even greater than her sister's, and with a dozen trained soldiers providing support, the two heroes found themselves fighting a grueling battle of attrition.
Meanwhile, hidden in the silent depths of Morag's ocean, the Winter Soldier watched the Kree flagship, The Dark Aster, hanging in the dark water like a predator. He'd seen three distinct teams deploy from the ship. A quick check-in with Peter confirmed that the enemy leader, Ronan, had also left the ship.
The strongest fighters are gone, Bucky thought, his mind working with cold, tactical clarity. That means the warship is vulnerable.
Of course, "vulnerable" was a relative term. The ship would still be crawling with soldiers, but the key command and combat personnel were away. It was the perfect opportunity for a high-stakes infiltration. He knew how massive the Kree warship was, dwarfing anything S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever built. The small Sakaarian ship they'd arrived in wouldn't stand a chance against its cannons. No matter how the fight for the Orb turned out, they would inevitably have to face the wrath of that fleet.
Unless… they could capture one of the ships themselves.
The decision was instant. He had to try. Steal a home.
He knew it was a suicide mission, breaking into an enemy mothership alone. But Bucky Barnes wasn't afraid of sacrifice. His memories were slowly returning, not of his life as James, but of the seventy years of sin he'd committed as the Winter Soldier. The guilt was a physical weight, a constant torment. A noble death in service of a mission—in service of Steve's world—felt like the only atonement available.
Without another moment of hesitation, he moved to the small reconnaissance sub docked in their ship's bay.
"Eunice, switch to flight mode and activate optical cloaking," he commanded.
"Activating," the ship's AI responded.
The small craft detached and ascended silently through the murky water, breaking the surface and rising into Morag's alien sky. No one on the Kree ship noticed its approach.
They failed to realize that two other infiltrators had already breached their hull.
CRUNCH!
With a grotesque tearing sound, a reinforced steel door was ripped from its hinges, mangled by thick, powerful brown branches. A tall, tree-like creature and a small, bipedal raccoon stepped through the breach.
"Nice work, Groot!" Rocket Raccoon chirped, slinging a comically oversized plasma rifle from his back. "No way was I gettin' my fur wet in that slop." He gave Groot's wooden leg a friendly pat. "C'mon, that's salt water. Now listen up. We seize this ship, and whatever loot they bring back is ours for the takin'!"
Rocket's eyes gleamed with avarice. "We want the four billion!" He held up one furry hand, then the other. "And we want the ship!" His gaze darted around the corridor, landing on a figure emerging from the shadows at the far end. "Ooh, and I want that guy's metal arm!"
Bucky froze. He'd barely been aboard for thirty seconds and he was already discovered. And his discoverers were… a talking raccoon and a walking tree.
In the confusion, both parties made the same mistake. Bucky, knowing next to nothing about the Kree, assumed these bizarre creatures were some kind of specialized shock troopers. Rocket, in his infinite self-absorption, assumed Bucky was just another one of the Kree.
Conflict was inevitable.
Before Bucky could process the absurdity of the situation, Rocket charged, his rifle spitting hot plasma. "Gimme that arm!"
Years of conditioning took over. Bucky twisted his body, using his vibranium arm to shield his head as he closed the distance. The corridor offered no cover, so offense was his only option.
But his first obstacle was the charging Groot, whose arms had morphed into a thick, wooden shield. He slammed into Bucky like a biological tank. Bucky planted his feet, absorbing the impact before lashing out with a powerful kick that sent the Flora Colossus stumbling back. In the same fluid motion, he drew an energy pistol from a thigh holster and fired three precise shots, dropping Groot to the floor.
"Groot!" Rocket shrieked. Seeing his friend go down sent him into a feral rage. He leaped onto Bucky's face like a facehugger, digging his sharp claws into his tactical gear and trying to scratch his eyes out.
"Agh—get off me, you raccoon!" Bucky roared, grabbing the creature by the scruff of its neck and forcefully prying it off, sending it flying.
Groot, ever vigilant, quickly wove his regenerating arms into a net to catch his friend, breaking his fall. This only seemed to enrage Rocket further.
He scrambled to his feet, trembling with humiliation and fury. "Did you hear that?!" he screeched. "He called me a raccoon!" He whirled on Bucky, his tiny body radiating pure indignation. "You Kree bastard! You think you can look down on me? Call me a rabbit, a cat, a mouse, a fox, fine! But you will not call me a raccoon! My name is ROCKET!"
Bucky was momentarily stunned by the outburst, but then a key phrase registered. "Wait," he said slowly. "You're not Kree?"
"Now he's callin' me a Kree again!" Rocket howled, his nose twitching in anger as he prepared to charge once more.
This time, a vine shot out from Groot, grabbing Rocket by the waist.
"Huh?" Rocket paused, the haze of his anger clearing slightly. He lowered his weapon and stared at the Winter Soldier. "You're… not a Kree?"
Bucky shook his head.
"Well, why didn't ya say so!" Rocket snapped, glaring at him. "I don't care who you are, pal, but you're payin' for those wasted plasma cells!" He jabbed a finger at Bucky. "So, who are you? You here for the Orb, too? If so, you didn't take that beating for nothin'." He flashed a greedy thumbs-up. "Four billion units are mine!"
Bucky opened his mouth to point out that it seemed to be Rocket and Groot who had taken the beating, but thought better of it. "What four billion?"
"You don't know? Some new outfit, the 'Plumbers,' popped up outta nowhere. Four billion for the Cosmic Spirit Orb, delivered to them." Rocket pinched his chin thoughtfully. "Talk about rich. Four billion! I wouldn't even know where to start spendin' that! Tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue. "Must be some real morons, spendin' that kinda cash on a shiny ball."
The Winter Soldier simply rolled his eyes and produced his Plumbers badge. "Is it possible," he asked, his voice dripping with dry irony, "This Plumbers?"
Rocket's face went pale. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Calling your potential employer a moron to his face wasn't exactly a masterclass in negotiation.
Suddenly, klaxons blared throughout the ship, bathing the corridor in flashing red light. Their skirmish had tripped the alarms. A heavy stomping sound echoed from down the hall as Kree soldiers converged on their position.
Rocket wiped his face in annoyance. His quiet little infiltration was now a full-blown firefight. The plan was a failure.
But the Winter Soldier just shook his head. "Don't worry, raccoon."
"I am NOT a raccoon!" Rocket screamed.
Bucky ignored him, his thoughts drifting to a blond-haired super-soldier from another time. A small, grim smile touched his lips.
"The infiltration hasn't failed yet."
"What are you talkin' about? We're made!"
"I have a friend," Bucky said, his voice low and steady. "He gets discovered every time he tries to be stealthy. But he always completes the mission."
"Yeah?" Rocket asked, skeptical. "How's he manage that?"
A familiar, deadly light entered Bucky's eyes.
"It's simple," he said, raising his pistol and rifle, ready for war. "You just kill everyone who discovers you."