AGE OF DESTRUCTION ( marvel.. )

o3. Ragnarok Condemned..

"Where is Asgard?" Daisy, sitting down on the little stair separating Sol and Peter's front seats, looked ahead at what would rather be classified as an insignificance, an unusually small and ratified belt of asteroids, not a capital realm of the universe, famous for its civilization and wealth, as well as disciplined war training of countless troops. Or so she thought she read, snooping through files she gained clearance for once advancing in politics. The nothingness ahead of the Guardian's ship was not too comforting to the facts she thought she knew.

Her only comfort was alas the company of Rocket, constantly scanning her, intrigued by how a biological form could hold so much radioactivity within, and the warmth of the hot beverage which softened her vocal chords. She no longer sounded dead; color started returning to her now fully healed skin.

"Check the coordinates," Peter switched off the main engines and kept their ship sliding smoothly in the space where he too remembered clearly a big and golden city should have greeted them with enough fire power to make him shit his pants in a moment of realization that they may not yet be welcomed to return.

"It should be right here," Gamora answered Peter's request as she had already rechecked the archives of the ship's maps as well as their current location. From everyone present, she was perhaps the happinest to learn Thanos has finally made a mistake which will cost him his life; he was paranoid, hence he took measures of stopping creatures like the Phoenix and Daisy, even though he had failed in conquering Sol before, but not even his paranoia would allow him to see his very precautions turned to be his doom for his prisoners escaped with knowing the entirety of his plan.

Daisy told them everything, at Gamora's request.

Somehow that could have been the reason why Sol's whimper burst out the handle to her tears, pouring out in loud sobs of sorrow. But then again, her eyes were no longer shielded with sunglasses and she looker straight ahead, mourning what she was seeing and what Daisy could not understand.

Groot climbed off Sol's shoulders and held her right hand. Peter leant forward, looking at her worriedly too and at last, her head bowed and she sniffed. "It has such a dark color left behind. Something... something terrible happened here."

"Shit," Rocket dropped his stance into a defeated sigh.

"Scanning for distress calls captured in the area," Gamora announced what Peter too knew they should have done. However, unlike her, he was busy noticing how very rare it was too see Sol so devasted by a the colors of a scenery.

"This is the asgardian refugee spaceship..." The connection was bad, by the message they captured, constantly interrupted with static noise and other frequencies overlapping. "I repeat, we are under assault. The engines are dead..." Sol's last sniff marked the grave-like silence in the Guardian's ship, listening to the dying words begging for help. "Requesting immediate help from any space craft... Approximately 22 jump points of Asgard... This is not a war craft!"

"How long ago was that message broadcasting?" Sol took the abrupt end of the distress call as her turn to indulge with her most sincere goodwill.

"Not too long," Gamora answered after checking her seat's integrated screen responsible for such detectors and computing issues to be dealt.

"We might still be able to reach them if-," Peter has already turned the engines, however, as if trapped in a gravitational field, a resistance was proving to slow down what could have been a fast take off in search of the asgardians. Sol has already settled in her seat when she heard Peter's grunt in trying to move the stuck levers. "If we..," he repeated. "What the actual-?"

Drax gasped and everyone turned around to him, just to see how wide eyed he was pointing at Daisy, "She's a witch!"

Daisy's eyes were glowing yellow, flickering in that glow, because her strength was still wavering from the restraints which poisoned her perfectly mutated system for months on end. Her left hand palmed the floor of the ship and from that epicenter, creaking overwhelmed its metal. In her right hand, she was still holding the warm cup she has been given.