Creation

A Chaos in Time

This chapter is an entry for the Round 6 of Fanfic Bootcamp.

Fandom : Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU)

Above thousands of extraterrestrial, otherworldly realms that my time machine could transport me to, it happened to land on Xandar—where peace and treaty isn't an option. At least for an educated knowledge seeker who's also an honored thug.

Right after my head hit the rough asphalt, screams and grunts resounded nearby, grounding me on my feet. After a brief examination of my surroundings, I located the dominant voices and discovered two people, one after the other.

The leading one is a woman, judging from her maroon-tipped long hair. The one pursuing her is a man, with a shabby red jacket and a pace matching his opponent.

To my startle, the man threw something—a kind of blazing maroon rope, which bind the woman's legs afterward. A ball slipped out of her grasp as she tumbled facefirst, flipping back as fast as she fell.

As she attempted to free her bound legs, the man advanced, with his eyes affixed to the metallic ball.

Funny how they looked like dogs, scrambling for a mere ball.

Should I interfere and help? My gut told me to help the woman since the man was the first to ambush . . .

Until they started punching each other's flesh.

The woman, surprisingly, has the upper hand in the fists-exchanging activity. She strikes his chest, snatching hands, and stomach. All with a blinding accuracy.

I was in the midst of approaching them when her scream slashed through the crowd's murmurs, causing the witnesses to back off in wariness.

A red raccoon and a giant manlike plant appeared out of nowhere, joining in the chaotic situation.

While the odd plant's vines bind around the woman's arms, the raccoon hopped to her head, inserting its paws to her mouth and gawked them wider, later resulting in the woman's anger—she bit him mercilessly.

My eyes briefly drifted back to the mysterious ball, the source of all this ruckus. It prickled my curiosity at its hidden capability.

What made it pursued by many?

The man who lied flat on the ground started his move, snatching the ball while the woman's still distracted.

Seems that wherever I am, brewing trouble is one of the items in my traveling checklist.

I revealed myself from the crowd and kicked the man's knees, causing him to stumble. He cussed in an unknown language as my fingers grasped for the ball, fighting with his persistent ones.

"Let it go, you fool!" His strength was abnormal in the human race, sent me rolling as he punched my stomach twice as hard as my kick was.

But giving up isn't in my mental dictionary.

A rush of wind darted past me, followed by another one. The woman now stood next to me, a knife in hand. She braced for a throw, aiming for the ball.

I expected a gratitude to come out from her frowning mouth, but it seemed that I hoped too much for this one.

She hopped off a nearby railing, landing on the lower ground with barely a crack. As the man stumbled to reach the knocked ball, the aggressive woman has clutched it as she dashed for salvation, weaving past the terrified, weird-skinned crowd.

All this random tagging game ignites my curiosity and nosiness to poke in their business.

I made my run as I eyed them from the upper distance, glancing at the two combatting humans—if they really are. I traced the grapnel which is tied to my steel belt, controlling its movements as I darted across the foreign streets.