From a distance, the massive structure resembled a colossal skull floating in the space void, its hollow eye sockets glowing with swirling nebulae that drifted like ethereal cloud formations. The bone-white surface was scarred with countless mechanical modifications, their colorful lights creating an almost cyberpunk aesthetic against the ancient remains.
"It doesn't just look like a skull," Ben murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and grim fascination. "It is a skull."
Although this was Ben's first visit to Knowhere, he knew exactly what they were approaching. This was the severed head of a Celestial—one of the cosmic gods killed eons ago by Knull, the God of Symbiotes. The sheer scale was mind-boggling; where most Celestials stood at least six hundred meters tall, this particular being's head alone dwarfed entire planets. Whether the Celestial had been naturally gigantic or had grown to this size after death when divine power could no longer contain its form, Ben couldn't say.
The body was long gone, leaving only the skull and a spiraling spinal column that descended into the swirling nebula like some ancient tower. Over the past hundred thousand years, even this divine corpse had begun to decay, cosmic dust and stellar debris accumulating to create the bizarre mining colony that now existed within the skull's hollowed interior.
Ben's mind drifted to Loki's previous request for Beta Ray Bill to collect samples from Knowhere. Unfortunately, those specimens had turned out to be ordinary cosmic dust—no trace of Celestial DNA remained in the processed materials.
Finding viable genetic material here might prove more challenging than he'd hoped.
The entire skull was riddled with mechanical modifications, massive mining equipment casting prismatic light shows throughout the cranial cavity. Pipes, cables, and industrial platforms created a labyrinthine network that transformed the ancient death into a thriving, if chaotic, metropolis.
"Is this where the gamma radiation from the Stone is originating?" Ben asked, his eyes scanning the modified skull for any signs of their quarry.
"Confirmed," Eunice replied, her synthetic voice carrying undertones of concentration. Traveling alongside Ben and Nebula, she served as their living Infinity Stone detector—the Mind Stone within her body creating resonance patterns with its siblings. "The readings are strongest here, but they're... scattered. After Requiem acquired the Aether, it's clear she lacks the power to contain the Stone as she did before. She's been actively using its reality-warping abilities."
They'd tracked Gamora's energy signature to another world first, only to find she'd already departed by the time they arrived. Now the trail led here, to this nexus of cosmic criminals and black market dealers. Since her last major reality manipulation, Gamora hadn't tapped the Stone's power again, leaving Eunice to triangulate only a general area.
"What could Gamora possibly want here?" Nebula's voice carried both confusion and concern, her metallic fingers unconsciously clenching into fists. "I defeated her before, and she seemed to abandon Thanos's cause entirely. She chose redemption. But now she's collecting Stones again?"
The uncertainty gnawed at Nebula. She'd witnessed her sister's apparent change of heart firsthand, had even felt a moment of genuine connection during their final battle. The thought that Gamora might be reverting to their father's genocidal mission made her stomach churn with dread.
"We'll find her first," Ben said firmly, though his gaze lingered on the massive skull floating before them. "Then we'll get answers."
But even as he spoke, another priority tugged at his attention—the potential for Celestial genetic material. According to the cosmic hierarchy, Celestials ranked among the most powerful beings in existence, their energy output surpassing that of most pantheon gods. Even Alien X's personalities held them in some regard, which was saying something. Each Celestial possessed power spanning from single-universe to multiversal scales.
Odin had specifically reforged the Destroyer Armor to combat Celestials, though that artifact was still undergoing repairs after the Loki incident. Now that Ben stood before an actual Celestial corpse, he couldn't ignore the opportunity.
Of course, Celestials existed as energy-conscious entities rather than traditional biological life forms. Some theories suggested they were manifestations of cosmic dreams made manifest. The Omnitrix might not be able to extract conventional genetic material from such beings, and even if it could, the device's population optimization protocols might prove ineffective. After all, individual Celestials didn't share genetic heritage in any conventional sense—they were unique cosmic forces given form.
"Worth a try," Ben muttered, shaking his head to clear the speculation. There was no point in overthinking the possibilities. Gaining Celestial abilities would be incredible, but he'd managed without them so far.
"Prepare for atmospheric entry," he announced, then paused as Nebula held up a restraining hand.
"Wait. We need disguises first," she said, her expression serious. "Knowhere is a complete free-for-all. You've got spies from the three galactic empires, arms dealers, scavengers, pirates, mercenaries, and every variety of criminal lowlife imaginable. Your face and the Plumber insignia are way too recognizable after that galactic summit."
Ben's appearance had become notorious following his demonstration against Praetor Kallark. Even those who hadn't attended the Galactic Federation meeting had learned to recognize the teenage ruler of the Fourth Empire through various intelligence networks.
"Easy enough," Ben replied, pressing the Omnitrix. Green light flashed, and his human form shifted into that of Big Chill—a moth-like alien wrapped in a tattered dark robe, his voice taking on a raspy, otherworldly quality. "How's this?"
"Much better. We should alter the ship's appearance too." Nebula's fingers danced over the spacecraft's control interface, activating aesthetic modification protocols that shifted their vessel's color scheme and external configuration. The sleek Plumber design morphed into something that resembled a typical smuggler's transport.
"Life Lock mode activated," Ben confirmed, ensuring his transformation would remain stable indefinitely.
Eunice required no disguise—her synthetic appearance already marked her as just another artificial being in a galaxy full of androids and constructs.
Their modified ship descended through the orbital traffic patterns surrounding Knowhere, joining the constant stream of vessels arriving and departing from the cosmic crossroads. Despite its reputation as a lawless zone, the mining colony maintained invisible management structures—after a hundred thousand years of development, even chaos required some organization.
The transformation of the Celestial's skull into a mining city had begun shortly after its discovery, with industrious species hollowing out the cranial cavity to extract precious materials from the divine bone marrow. The process had created a sprawling metropolis within the skull, complete with docking bays, commercial districts, and residential sectors carved directly into the inner surface of the cosmic god's head.
Massive searchlights had replaced the Celestial's eyes, their beams cutting through the perpetual twilight to illuminate the floating dust and debris that created nebula-like formations throughout the interior. The effect was hauntingly beautiful—a monument to mortality built within the head of an immortal being.
After docking at one of the countless landing platforms, the trio disembarked. Nebula moved with the casual confidence of someone intimately familiar with Knowhere's chaotic ecosystem. During her years as a space pirate following her escape from Thanos, she'd frequented this port countless times.
She casually tossed a handful of credits to the tentacle-faced alien managing the docking platform. "Long time no see, Garthan. I heard about your father. Congratulations!"
The dock worker's tentacles writhed in what might have been amusement. "Nebula! Yes, the old bastard finally died. Best thing that ever happened to me." For most species in the galaxy, parental death was indeed cause for celebration rather than mourning. "You looking for anyone in particular?"
"Gamora. She might be going by 'Requiem' now," Nebula replied, though she didn't hold much hope for useful information.
Garthan's tentacles performed a gesture equivalent to a shrug. "Half the people here use fake names anyway. Haven't seen anyone matching that description, but then again, I don't ask questions that aren't my business."
"Fair enough. Just keep an eye on our ship," Nebula said, leading Ben and Eunice deeper into Knowhere's labyrinthine interior.
Ben absorbed the sights and sounds of the cosmic bazaar with fascination. Three types of establishments dominated every district they passed through:
Repair shops formed the backbone of Knowhere's economy—grimy, oil-stained workshops where space-faring criminals could patch up battle damage to their ships and weapons. The technology looked deliberately primitive, all exposed wiring and improvised solutions. Most resembled the sort of roadside garage where desperate travelers had no choice but to trust questionable mechanics.
The other two categories often blurred together: bars and entertainment complexes. These catered to the pirates, mercenaries, and scavengers who formed Knowhere's primary population. After months of raiding across the galaxy, these individuals arrived with credits burning holes in their pockets and a desperate need to forget their violent lifestyles, if only temporarily.
The establishments provided exactly what their clientele craved: potent alien intoxicants, friendship of various species and configurations, and gambling opportunities that could either multiply their wealth or leave them penniless in a single night.
As they walked, Ben witnessed a gelatinous alien that resembled sentient mucus performing what could generously be called an erotic dance for a crowd of increasingly excited patrons. Several individuals were already negotiating prices for more intimate encounters with the creature.
"The universe's definition of beauty is... diverse," Ben muttered, grateful for his alien form's lack of human sensory reactions.
"You should see what passes for entertainment in the Andromeda Spiral," Nebula replied dryly. "This is actually pretty tame."
"Who actually runs this place?" Ben asked, eager to change the subject.
"Officially? The Guardians of the Galaxy," Nebula replied, then noticed Ben's surprised expression. "Not Star-Lord's group—they became your Galactic Volunteers, remember? This is a different organization that took the name. They're mostly just a front for the Ravager clans anyway. The real power belongs to whichever mercenary group currently controls the most territory, but they're usually off raiding other systems."
Ben nodded, his attention already shifting back to his primary objective. "You mentioned this place is essentially one massive mining operation. The extracted material comes from the skull itself, right? How difficult would it be to acquire some of those raw materials?"
"Most of the easily accessible Celestial bone was harvested decades ago," Nebula explained. "If you want genuine samples, your best bet is the Collector. He's been hoarding the premium materials since this place was first established."
"Perfect. That's exactly where we're headed anyway."
Eunice's voice interrupted their conversation. "The Stone's gamma resonance is still within range. Gamora hasn't left Knowhere."
"If she's still here but not actively using the Reality Stone, she's either negotiating with the Collector or has already concluded her business with him," Nebula reasoned. "Either way, that's our next stop."
"Tell me about this Collector," Eunice requested, her curiosity evident.
"Taneleer Tivan is... ancient. I've been coming to Knowhere for years, and he's always been here. Everyone talks about him like he's been part of the landscape for tens of thousands of years. Never ages, never leaves, just keeps accumulating more and more exotic specimens." Nebula's expression grew thoughtful. "He has an excellent reputation among the criminal element—pays fair prices, asks minimal questions, and has connections throughout the galaxy. If someone wanted information about cosmic artifacts or rare phenomena, he'd be the person to consult."
Ben smiled slightly. "We actually have some history with Tivan. He helped protect Bill's people when their ark-ship was discovered by Surtur's forces. Of course, knowing the Collector's nature, I doubt that protection came free."
"Nothing ever does with him," Nebula agreed. "But his intelligence network is unmatched, and he's probably the only person in the galaxy who might actually know how to safely handle multiple Infinity Stones. If Gamora needed advice or wanted to trade the Reality Stone for something else, he'd be her logical first stop."
The trio continued deeper into Knowhere's commercial heart, passing through districts where the skull's natural bone structure had been carved into multilevel marketplaces. The scale remained overwhelming—they were literally walking through the cranial cavity of a cosmic god, each "neighborhood" occupying what had once been a different region of the Celestial's brain.
None of them noticed the crimson hound observing their progress from a distant platform, its blood-red eyes tracking their movement with predatory focus.
Beside the creature, a tall figure emerged from the shadows—Khyber the Huntsman, the interdimensional bounty hunter who had allied himself with Vilgax. The fire dragon Jörmungandr coiled around his feet like an enormous, serpentine familiar.
"So the Omnitrix wielder has come to me," Khyber murmured, his enhanced senses easily penetrating Ben's disguise. "No Necrofriggian exists in this universe. The scent of human DNA beneath that transformation is unmistakable."
As a professional hunter, Khyber understood the value of patience and perfect timing. Rather than attack immediately, he would shadow his prey, waiting for the optimal moment to strike. The skull-city provided countless opportunities for ambushes, and he intended to end this hunt with a single, lethal blow.
"I'm also quite interested in this 'Collector' character," Khyber continued, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Let's see what treasures he's accumulated before I claim the ultimate prize."
The hunter and his draconic friend began following at a discrete distance, just another pair of predators in a city built on the bones of gods.
Meanwhile, Nebula's familiarity with Knowhere's layout guided them efficiently through the maze-like passages toward the Collector's repository. Unlike most of Knowhere's chaotic establishments, Tivan's collection occupied a carefully maintained section of the skull's interior, its entrance guarded by uniformed servants who screened visitors with professional courtesy.
"The Collector welcomes all who might possess items of interest," one of the attendants explained as they approached. "He asks only that you respect the sanctity of his collection and refrain from touching the displays."
They were escorted through corridors lined with preview cases—tantalizing glimpses of the wonders housed within Tivan's main vault. The atmosphere grew progressively more unsettling as they walked, the lighting dimming until it felt more like entering a tomb than a museum.
"I get an uncomfortable feeling every time I come here," Nebula admitted, though her expression remained stoic.
Ben, however, felt a very different emotion as they entered the main collection chamber—pure, undiluted envy.
The vast space stretched beyond visual limits, filled with countless display cases that stood like monuments to cosmic biodiversity. Each transparent chamber contained specimens from across the known universe: mummified remains of extinct civilizations, living beings suspended in temporal stasis, artifacts of unimaginable power, and creatures that defied conventional classification.
For someone whose ultimate goal was collecting genetic diversity through the Omnitrix, the sight was simultaneously inspiring and frustrating. Here lay the genetic heritage of countless worlds and species, perfectly preserved but tantalizingly out of reach.
These might not be the most powerful races in the universe, but they represented exactly what Ben needed most—the spark of countless civilizations, each containing unique adaptations and evolutionary solutions that could prove invaluable in future conflicts.
The question was whether the Collector might be willing to negotiate...