The Weight of Immortality - CH - 85

The Nova Corps Detention Facility stood like a fortress on the far edge of Xandar’s central city district. A web of reinforced steel, energy barriers, and security drones made it one of the most heavily protected locations in the Nova Empire—on most days, at least.

But today…

Today was different.

As Harry and Hela approached the facility cloaked in simple invisibility charms, the outer perimeter buzzed with chaotic chatter. Sirens echoed in the distance, and Nova officers ran toward the interior of the building, weapons drawn, completely ignoring the entrance.

Hela raised an amused eyebrow as two guards sprinted past them, shouting at each other.

"Section Twelve breached—repeat, Section Twelve has a breach!"
"Where the hell is everyone !"

Harry glanced at Hela. “Well. That saves us the trouble of sneaking in.”

She smirked. “I expected a challenge. This is almost disappointing.”

A few flicks of Harry’s fingers sealed their invisibility further, masking them even from biometric scans and motion detectors. They walked through the main gate completely unnoticed, following the flood of guards as they rushed inside.

They entered a side corridor lined with heavy doors and scanning arrays. One chamber was partially open, and Hela’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of what lay inside.

She stopped. “Wait.”

Harry paused, turning to her.

Hela grinned like a predator. “Is that what I think it is?”

Inside the chamber was a Nova Corps weapons vault, packed with crates of gleaming, advanced weaponry—energy rifles, gravity mines, sonic displacers, shielding nodes, and more. Along the far wall, a number of unmanned starfighters were suspended in stasis fields, their curved hulls glowing with embedded circuitry.

Hela stepped into the room like a queen entering her treasury. “Now this... this is a collection worth stealing.”

Harry sighed. “We’re not here to loot the place.”

“But we’re already here,” she said, half-turning with a playful smirk. “And think of the research potential. You’re always going on about how the magical and technological can be fused.”

Harry looked at the arsenal, then at the empty hallway. He sighed again—deeper this time—then waved his hand.

Dozens of weapons shrunk instantly, transforming into miniature versions no bigger than his palm. He opened one of his enchanted pockets and slid them inside. With another flick, the starfighters were compressed into palm-sized metallic charms, hovering neatly before settling into a velvet pouch on his belt.

Hela beamed. “See? Doesn’t that feel better already?”

Harry smirked. “Fine. But if we have an intergalactic arrest warrant on our heads tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

Hela shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first.”

They continued deeper into the facility. The chaos up ahead began to settle as Nova officers regained control. Barricades were being re-established, and some prisoners were already being reprocessed into their cells.

But Harry’s focus was on one room—the central prison block, where the highest-security detainees were held.

They slipped inside through a side door, bypassing a pair of distracted guards. The main chamber was in disarray—several cells were open, scorch marks lined the floors, and a Nova officer shouted into a comm unit.

Harry and Hela stepped silently past the chaos toward the cell marked 7-B.

Empty.

Harry glanced at the digital records console mounted beside the door and placed his hand on it. “Vikka, decrypt.”

The ship’s AI responded in his earpiece.
“Accessing now. Logs show Subject 7-B: Peter Jason Quill—human male, also known as ‘Star-Lord’. Transferred here three days ago. Escaped approximately forty-five minutes ago. Accomplices: Gamora, Rocke, Groot, and Drax.”

Hela looked mildly amused. “I like these names.”

Harry ignored her, scrolling through the recent entries. “It says here the group caused a major disturbance and managed to overpower several guards using a combination of tech and brute force. Nova Prime issued a detainment order, but by the time backup arrived, the group had stolen a ship and disappeared.”

Hela raised an eyebrow. “So we’re back to square one?”

Harry looked at her, eyes narrowing. “Not quite. I have an idea.”

Once aboard the Gryffindor, Harry pulled up the prison’s security footage. With a time-reversal spell layered over the monitor, they replayed the exact moment the escape occurred.

Onscreen, a disheveled man in a red leather jacket—Peter Quill—grinned as he kicked a stunned Nova guard out of his path. Behind him, a green-skinned woman with a sword, a raccoon firing dual blasters, and a massive walking tree tore through security like paper.

They boarded a Nova Corps patrol ship and blasted out of the hangar in seconds.

Hela raised an eyebrow. “Now that is a team I wouldn’t mind meeting.”

Harry watched Peter closely. “He’s not just running. He’s protecting something. He has the orb.”

Hela tapped the screen. “So where do we find him?”

Harry’s expression darkened. “We trace the ship’s trajectory. If I had to guess... he’ll either go to ground on a backwater planet or try to sell it to someone who can keep him safe from dangerous people.”

Vikka spoke through the command deck.
“I’ve triangulated possible destinations based on their escape vector. Top candidates include Knowhere, Contraxia, and a few unregulated trade hubs on the rim.”

Hela cracked her knuckles. “Let’s pay them a visit.”

Harry nodded. “We’re getting close now. Wherever he’s going, Thanos will be right behind.”

As the Gryffindor lifted off, leaving the disoriented Nova Corps behind, Harry stared out at the stars.


The planet Contraxia spun lazily against the cold void, a glittering neon beacon in an otherwise grim sector of space. Known for its nightlife, black market exchanges, and general disregard for law or order, Contraxia was a place where anything could be bought—for the right price.

The Gryffindor sliced through its atmosphere with elegance and grace, touching down amidst freighters, pirate rigs, and dilapidated transports in one of the planet’s better-lit docking bays.

Inside, Harry adjusted his cloak, while Hela, now dressed in sleek black leathers and a long silver scarf that sparkled faintly in the twilight, glanced around the crowded thoroughfare.

“Place stinks of bad deals and broken promises,” she muttered.

Harry smirked. “Exactly why we’ll find them here.”

They moved through the crowded neon streets, Hela attracting more than a few wide-eyed stares. Their goal was clear: find Peter Quill before he sold the orb to anyone. It hadn’t been hard to trace him. Word spread fast when someone showed up with a large bounty on themselves.

It wasn’t long before they found Peter Quill, leaning against a neon-lit bar near a side market, holding a drink and laughing at something Rocket said. Gamora, standing close to him, eyed the crowd like a hawk, and Drax was sitting nearby, proudly retelling a story of stabbing a beast from the inside. Groot danced lazily beside the music-speaker.

Harry and Hela approached.

Peter turned first, blinking. “Uh… do we know you?”

Harry gave a diplomatic nod. “You’re Peter Quill?”

Peter raised his chin. “That’s Star-Lord to you.” He grinned. “But yeah, depends who's asking.”

“I’m Harry. This is Hela. We’re… interested in the orb you’re planning to sell.”

Immediately, Gamora stepped in front of Peter, hand on the hilt of her sword. “Who sent you? Ronan?”

Hela laughed. “Ronan? Please. Do I look like someone who work for anyone.”

Harry smirked. " But you do work for Tony. "

Hela was not amused. " I don't work for Tony, I work with him. Did you forget, I own most shares of Stark Industries after Tony. "

Gamora’s eyes narrowed. “You smell like Asgard.”

Hela stepped forward with a smile. “That’s because I am. Hela Odinsdottir. Princess of Asgard, slayer of gods. And you, you wouldn’t happen to have the last name Banner, would you?”

Gamora’s eyes narrowed into slits.

Harry groaned and rubbed his face. “Hela, don’t say things like that. That’s racist.”

Peter snorted and nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Rocket barked out a laugh. “I like her.”

Gamora looked furious. “We’re not selling anything to you.”

Harry raised both hands. “We’re not here to buy anything from you. Honestly. We don’t even have local currency.”

Rocket blinked. “No units? Then how are you gonna buy anything? You planning on selling those fancy robes?”

“No,” Harry said calmly, “but we do have something else. Once you sell the orb to the Collector, we’ll meet you there. We have… items that may interest him. We'll purchase it from him directly.”

Peter hesitated. “So you're saying you don't want to rob us, but you do want to buy what we're about to sell… after we sell it?”

“Exactly,” Harry replied.

Hela crossed her arms. “We’re trying to avoid unnecessary conflict. That’s rare for me, so appreciate it.”

Gamora didn’t look convinced, but Groot shuffled up and gave Harry a curious look.

“I am Groot,” he said.

Harry smiled. “And I am Harry.”

Groot blinked, then nodded slowly.

Peter looked around the group. “Look… I’m not sure what your angle is, but we’ve got an appointment with the Collector in a few hours. If you want to talk deals, talk to him. We’re just the delivery team.”

Harry nodded. “Then we’ll see you there.”

Rocket raised an eyebrow. “Don’t try to cut in line. I hear the Collector’s got a real hate for impatient customers.”

Hela’s lips curved. “He’ll make time for us.”

Back aboard the Gryffindor, Hela began sorting through their collection of magical and rare items.

“He’s a collector, right?” she asked. “Then he’ll want something… unique.”

Harry opened a trunk and pulled out a glass cube swirling with bottled starlight, a petrified dragon heart, and a Kree war medallion imbued with battle memories.

“I think we’ll get his attention.”

“Let’s just hope he hasn't made a deal with Thanos first,” Hela said. Her expression turned serious. “Because if he has… this becomes a war.”

Harry’s gaze darkened. “Then we make sure we get there first.”

The Collector's domain was filled with glass containers, specimens, and rare artifacts from every corner of the galaxy. Groot tapped gently on one container, revealing a terrified dog wearing a space suit inside. Rocket snorted. “Cosmo,” he muttered.

In the center of the room, Tivan stood resplendent in a fur-lined robe, his white hair slicked back and eyes gleaming. His assistants, including the silent girl known only as Carina, moved in the background.

“I must say,” Tivan said with a flourish, “you’ve brought me something... magnificent.”

He gestured toward the orb now resting atop a pedestal in the center of the chamber.

Behind a projection field at the far end of the room, Harry and Hela entered silently, cloaked with concealment magic. None noticed them. Not yet.

“We’d like to be paid,” Rocket interrupted.

Tivan barely glanced at him. “In due time, my loud, rodent-shaped friend.”

“I ain't a rodent!”

Harry whispered to Hela, “Here it comes…”

Tivan pressed a rune on his control panel. The orb clicked open, separating into hemispheres, revealing a glowing violet stone, pulsing with chaotic energy.

Tivan’s tone became reverent. “Before creation itself, there were six singularities. Then the universe exploded into existence, and the remnants of these systems were forged into concentrated ingots—Infinity Stones.”

Gamora stepped forward. “That’s one of them?”

Tivan nodded. “Yes. The Power Stone. Capable of destroying entire civilizations with a single thought. It grants unimaginable strength to its wielder… but no one, not even a Celestial, can wield it for long—at least, not alone.”

Carina, standing behind him, trembled. Her eyes were locked on the Stone.

Harry dropped the illusion and stepped forward. “She’s going to try.”

Everyone turned. Rocket, Drax, and even Peter reached for their weapons.

Gamora stepped between them. “Don’t. He’s with us. Sort of.”

Hela appeared beside Harry, eyes on Carina. “You can feel it, can’t you? Calling to you.”

Tivan frowned. “Who are you?”

Harry ignored him, locking eyes with Carina. “Don’t do it.”

But it was too late.

Carina lunged toward the Stone, shoving Tivan aside. “I will no longer be your slave!”

Her fingers closed around the Power Stone.

The explosion of energy was instant and violent.

Carina screamed as violet power tore through her body. Her skin cracked like broken glass, light pouring from her veins. She staggered backward—then detonated in a blinding sphere of violet energy, blasting open tanks, shattering glass, and throwing everyone across the room.

Harry raised his hand. “Protego!”

A glowing magic dome expanded around himself, Hela, and the Guardians, shielding them from the worst of the blast. The explosion rocked the Collector’s archive—several of his prized possessions vanished in smoke and fire. A giant slug-like creature slithered away through a broken wall.

“Everyone okay?” Peter coughed, rolling over.

“Was almost vaporized,” Rocket grunted, helping Groot up.

Harry lowered the shield. “That’s what the Power Stone does when handled by someone unworthy.”

Tivan stumbled to his feet, dazed and furious. “You’ve ruined everything!”

Hela stalked forward, stepping over debris. “You let a girl who hated you get that close to an Infinity Stone. Your idiocy ruined everything.”

Gamora looked pale. “That’s the kind of power Thanos wants?”

“Yes,” Harry said darkly. “And if he gets it, you’ll wish he’d just destroyed Knowhere.”

Peter looked around. “Alright, so new plan. What do we do with the Stone?”

“Hide it,” Gamora said instantly.

“Guard it,” Drax offered.

“Sell it,” Rocket muttered.

Harry stepped forward. “I’ll take it.”

That set off alarm bells. The Guardians instantly went defensive again.

Gamora narrowed her eyes. “No offense, Harry, but why should we trust you?”

Hela leaned on a shard of broken display glass like it was a throne. “Because we didn’t try to steal it. We let you sell it. And now we’ve just saved your lives.”

Harry continued calmly, “We have a vault that no army can reach. No power in the universe can break it. I don’t want the Stone. I want it kept away from Thanos.”

Peter looked between them, then back to the Stone—still pulsing softly within its shattered pedestal. He let out a long breath.

“I hate this, but… she’s right. We’re not equipped to handle something like this.”

Rocket crossed his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

Groot put a leafy hand on his shoulder. “I am Groot.”

Peter nodded. “Alright, Mage. But one condition—if you ever try to use it, we’ll come after you.”

Harry gave him a small smile. “Fair enough.”

With a flick of his wand, the Power Stone levitated, encased in a sphere of shimmering crystal and bound by ancient runes. He tucked it into a dimensional pouch, sealed by seven wards.

“Now,” Hela said, brushing soot from her armor, “let’s get out of this stinkhole before someone else tries to be a hero.”

Tivan was already collapsing in despair over his lost collection as the Guardians gathered their remaining gear.