Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

Countless light-years away in the universe, the Milan glides silently through the void.

This star field is so remote that it's not even marked on interstellar maps; there isn't a single living planet within tens of light-years of it.

Outside the porthole, there was only endless darkness and the dim red glow of a few dying stars in the distance; even nebulae didn't bother to gather here.

"I'll say it again," Rocket Raccoon said, propping his feet up on the control panel and clutching a half-disassembled plasma gun.

"The pay for this escort mission is too low. So low that I feel like we're doing charity."

"You don't understand." Star-Lord didn't turn his head, staring intently at the cockpit window. "This is reputation. With a good reputation, you'll get big orders in the future."

"Reputation?" Rocket scoffed. "The last time you talked about reputation, we were almost blasted into space debris by a Kree patrol ship."

"That was an accident."

"You call that an accident?" Gamora walked in through the hatch, leaned against the door frame, and crossed her arms.

"You told me to trust you, and then we were chased by three warships for six star systems."

"But we all survived." Star-Lord turned his head, revealing his signature, self-proclaimed charming smile.

Gamora stared at him expressionlessly.

"Don't look at me like that." Star-Lord turned back. "I'm building a brand, our brand!"

"The most reliable escort team in the Milky Way."

"Reliable?" Drax's deep voice came from the back seat.

"The last time you said it was reliable, we dropped our cargo onto a gas giant. That cargo consisted of living organisms."

"That shipment was space jellyfish," Star-Lord corrected. "And they jumped out on their own."

"You opened the cargo door."

"For ventilation!"

Groot uttered a low "I am Groot" from the corner.

"Yes," Rocket translated without turning his head, "Groot said you're too unreliable."

"That's not what Groot meant," Star-Lord glared.

"That's what Groot was talking about." Rocket grinned, revealing two sharp teeth.

"I am Groot."

He said you can't even fix your own spaceship.

"I can fix it!" Star-Lord patted the control panel. "The Milan is perfectly fine!"

Star-Lord's team is the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Peter Quill, also known as Star-Lord, is half-Earth and half-Spartan, and was raised by space raiders.

The current members of the Guardians include Gamora, Thanos's adopted daughter and the last survivor of the Hobberry tribe; Drax the muscular giant; Rocket Raccoon, a genetically modified and mechanized bounty hunter; and Groot, a tree-man from the Flora Colossus tribe.

At that moment, the control panel beeped, sounding like mockery, and the spaceship's alarm suddenly went off.

Red lights swirled and flashed inside the cabin, and a piercing buzzing sound instantly silenced everyone's bickering.

A string of data popped up on the main screen, with densely packed waveforms jumping wildly.

"What's going on?" Gamora had already stood up straight, her hand on the weapon at her waist.

Rocket put his feet off the control panel and his fingers flew across the screen: "High-energy reaction detected ahead. Energy level... uh, this reading is a bit off."

"What's wrong?" Star-Lord stared at the screen.

"Two orders of magnitude higher than a normal star." Rocket's expression turned unusually serious. "And it's still climbing! Like some kind of supernova explosion!"

"What is the source?"

"I don't know, no entities can be detected! The spatial readings for that area are all jumbled!"

Drax stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword: "An enemy?"

"Not the enemy," Rocket said nervously, shaking his head. "They're much more troublesome than the enemy!"

"That's alright then."

Star-Lord stared at the seemingly calm void in front of him. It seemed that he could not see anything with the naked eye, but the high-energy reading on the screen was already red and purple, covering an entire sector in front of him.

"Take a detour," Gamora said.

"No." Star-Lord shook his head.

"Take a detour," Gamora repeated, her tone more forceful.

"Taking the detour would add three weeks to the journey," Star-Lord said, pointing to the star map. "We can traverse this region in just a few days."

The Rockets raised a wrench: "I voted to go around."

"I am Groot."

"Groot also voted by taking a detour."

"Drax?"

Drax paused for a second to think: "I don't care, but if you let me choose, I choose to fight."

"This is not a battle," Gamora said, looking at him.

"Then we'll take a detour."

"Three to one," the Rockets said. "Let's take a detour."

Star-Lord was silent for two seconds, then he placed his hand on the thrusters.

"Take a detour." Star-Lord removed his hands from the thrusters and raised them.

"Alright? You win."

"Three to one, democracy has won."

Rocket snorted and turned to set a new flight path.

Gamora released her hand from her weapon, Drax sat back down with a hint of disappointment in his expression, and Groot slowly shrank back into the corner.

The Milan's engines began to turn, and the ship tilted slightly, preparing to draw an arc to bypass the strange void ahead.

Then, everything happened too fast.

The energy reading on the main screen suddenly jumped from purplish-red to a blinding white, all the instruments screamed at the same time, and sparks flew from the control panel.

Before Star-Lord could even utter a curse, an invisible shockwave had already struck the Milan.

The spaceship felt like it had been grabbed and swung around by a giant, causing everyone to lose their balance at the same time.

Rocket flew off the chair, its claws flailing wildly in the air, hurling a string of interstellar swear words.

Gamora slammed into the bulkhead and used her knife to stab herself back into place to steady herself.

Drax rolled around on the warehouse wall like a gourd.

"Star-Lord!" Gamora roared, "What have you done?!"

"It wasn't me! I swear it really wasn't me this time!" Star-Lord roared.

The second wave of impact arrived, and the Milan was pulled forward by a tremendous force, its engines emitting a screeching roar as if it were about to disintegrate.

Outside the porthole was no longer a dark void, but a chaotic, turbulent vortex of pure energy.

The color of the light was beyond everyone's comprehension, leaving indescribable patterns on the retinas of everyone inside the cabin.

Star-Lord screamed in terror, "No, no, no! My ship!"

A huge hand reached out from behind and covered his mouth. Drax, who had gotten up at some point, looked at him expressionlessly, his hand remaining motionless.

"Quiet," Draco said in a low voice. "Your shouting is worse than the space jellyfish in the cargo hold."

Star-Lord made a whimpering protest in Drax's palm.

The Milan was completely swallowed up.

The spaceship was tossed up and down in a torrent of energy, with the people and objects inside switching back and forth between weightlessness and gravitational pull.

Rocket clung tightly to the armrests of his seat, while Groot used vines to bind everyone together and secure them in place.

The jolt lasted for about forty seconds. Or maybe four hours, nobody could say for sure, and then everything stopped.

The Milan floated in a sea of ​​light.

The light is flowing, like a liquid rainbow, like a frozen aurora.

Countless tiny points of light drifted in the air, flashing rhythmically.

Further away, two luminous objects, which could not be fully observed with the naked eye, were locked in a protracted tug-of-war.

The fierce battle between the two sides drove those who witnessed it into a frenzy beyond words!