Aside from Yon-Rogg, no member of the Starforce survived. Ronan escaped, the Accuser fleet was nearly annihilated, and Carol had completely broken free from the control of the Supreme Intelligence, now possessing immense power.
With that, the crisis with the Kree was finally over.
Melin didn't stay long. He took Garon and left right away, leaving Fury with a stomach full of words he hadn't managed to say.
"Sir, should we…" Coulson asked quietly.
"Let's deal with what's in front of us first. We know where they live anyway—plenty of time to pay a visit later." Fury made the decision. Even though the Kree threat was over, the mess left behind needed cleaning.
Although the battle took place in outer space, people on Earth could still see the fireworks in the sky. Covering up the intel was the top priority. Then there was the issue of what to do with the Skrulls, the lab left by Dr. Lawson, and the missing energy core. And…
Yon-Rogg, still twitching on the ground.
He lay there spasming, eyes rolled back, drooling from the corner of his mouth. It was obvious—he was done for.
Still… that wasn't such a bad outcome. He might not be able to talk, but his very existence was a treasure trove of intel. The nutjobs in the lab would probably be thrilled.
…
Back at home, Garon was being rather cautious. He wasn't sure whether his performance had redeemed him.
"Uh… my lord, I…"
"Not bad—you showed the dignity of the Sanctuary."
"Heheh, just doing my job…" Garon grinned from ear to ear, thinking he was finally free from his battle with academic papers.
But then—cold water.
"…However, you let Ronan escape. If you're going to strike, it has to be lethal. I don't know why you expected a technological empire to have powerful individuals. When facing an interstellar fleet, your first target should always be their commander. Taking out a commander is the most meritorious move—and without one, a fleet becomes a bunch of headless flies, easy to slaughter.
But you… killed a lot of small fry and let the most important one get away." Melin scolded.
"Uh… your criticism is fair." Garon hung his head, his feet scraping at the floor as if trying to dig a hole deep enough to hide in.
"So… get back to your room. If you don't meet my standards, you're not going anywhere."
Garon trudged off, face full of gloom, dragging a pale shadow behind him.
Melin didn't care to deal with the aftermath—Carol's next move, the fate of the Tesseract—it all didn't matter. Those things were useful to others, but to him and the Sanctuary, not really.
A Saint's power comes from their internal cosmos, not high-tech toys. If one could fully develop their cosmos and elevate it to the Omega level—Great Cosmos—the energy inside, in both quality and quantity, would rival that of an Infinity Stone.
Furthermore, Infinity Stones were not just endless energy—they were also part of the universe's rules. Relying too heavily on them meant being bound by those rules, shackled in invisible chains.
And ultimately, the end of that road was to become an executor of those rules.
That's the polite version. Less nicely put—you'd be a slave to the rules.
"Oh, right, my lord…"
"Hm?"
Garon came running out again, and Melin gave him a not-so-pleasant glance.
"Uhh… it's like this, my lord. This little guy somehow slipped into my Cloth… and I brought him back."
Melin looked down at what Garon was holding in his arms: a cute orange cat.
"Hm?" Melin looked stunned.
This wasn't a cat. This was a monster in cat's clothing. It had the nickname "Pocket Dimension Stomach"—it could eat anything, swallow anything, and regurgitate it at will.
That's right. It was a Flerken—Goose. The one responsible for turning Fury into a one-eyed man… whoops, wrong timeline—the very culprit behind Fury's missing eye.
Still… Goose was generally harmless and didn't eat things at random. Better to keep it at home as a pet than let it loose to wreak havoc. Plus, in an emergency, it was a pretty solid backup fighter.
"Hmm? Wait, Goose got stolen—Fury's eye… oh well, not my problem."
Melin stood up, and Garon looked like he wanted to run. But clearly, his legs were more loyal than his brain—they stayed frozen in place.
"M-m-m-my…"
"What?" Melin raised an eyebrow at him. When did Saints start stuttering?
"My lord… I was wrong!"
"…." Melin gave him a dead-fish stare, then flicked him hard on the forehead. "You're a disgrace. I'm just going out to buy Goose's pet supplies."
"R-right, I see. Whew—scared me to death." Garon sighed in relief, realizing he had misunderstood.
But Goose wasn't happy. It wriggled out of Garon's arms and went to rub against Melin's leg.
Melin chuckled and picked up Goose, petting it while joking, "Little one, you've got good taste."
"Meow~" Goose replied as if it understood, then glanced at Garon.
"You hear that? Get back to your room. Embarrassing."
Garon's face turned red. He stormed off, grumbling under his breath.
"Should've never brought you back! Ungrateful! Gold-digger! Bully! Stuck-up cat…"
"Pfft—" Hearing Garon's pitiful mutters, Melin couldn't help but laugh. Yep, kids like this were the most fun. Not like Shaka, who just meditated all day like some enlightened monk.
"They say women are like cats, and women are made of water—so that means cats are made of water. Otherwise, how'd you slip into a Cloth?" Melin mused while heading out to shop for Goose's things.
…
A few days later, just as Melin expected, Fury came knocking—with Coulson in tow.
"Sir, is there anything you'd like to explain?" Fury asked, deadpan, like someone owed him millions. He was already showing signs of his future persona.
Of course… it would've been more intimidating if he weren't holding an orange cat.
"Is there something I need to explain?" Melin asked lazily, sipping tea.
"Your power. And… the threat you represent." Fury got straight to the point.
"And?"
"I think you should be under a certain level of surv—"
He didn't get to finish the last word.
A wave of killing intent pierced through the locked door and locked onto him. If he dared utter that last word, he was sure he'd die.
But then—
Thud!
"OW!"
A yelp of pain echoed from the room the aura had come from.
"Focus on your reading!" Melin snapped. Kids these days—always butting in. Did he really think Melin couldn't handle a newbie like this?
The room quieted. The murderous intent vanished. Melin looked back at Fury.
"Go on."
Even though Garon had been subdued, Melin wasn't mad at his interruption. Still, Fury didn't dare say the same words. He adjusted his phrasing.
"Melin, sir… what do you think would happen if superpowered individuals were left unrestrained in this world?"
"Not bad. You're learning." Melin didn't answer directly but gave him some praise first. "I know you're brave, little Fury. It's the fire of youth. But knowing how to pick your opponent is also a good trait. Pick the wrong one and… best case, negotiations fall apart and you get nothing. Worst case…"
BOOM!
Fury felt his shoulders sink, like he was about to be crushed. It only lasted a moment, but it brought back memories—memories of surviving gunfire and war. No… this was even scarier.
"…you lose your life. That'd be a serious loss."
"…Understood." Fury replied. No doubt, Melin had just taught him a vivid lesson: when facing an unknown threat, always show basic respect.
"Knowing your mistakes and correcting them—not bad." Melin nodded. "Now, your question. The world would fall into chaos. Order would collapse. Human society would regress by centuries."
Fury's eyes lit up. It sounded like Melin agreed with his stance.
"In that case…"
"Your idea is solid, even right—but you're missing one premise," Melin cut in.
"What premise?" Fury was no longer pushing so hard. He was listening—like a student before a teacher.
"Why you?"
"Why… me?" Fury was confused.
"Yes. Why you? Why not him?" Melin pointed at Coulson. Then at the window. "Why not some random person outside?"
Fury fell silent, deep in thought.
"You're not the only one with the will to protect Earth. That resolve runs deep. Since hundreds of thousands of years ago, the Sanctuary has defended this world and humanity. Countless generations of Saints have given their lives. My wife, Athena, has reincarnated time and again. If we're talking about dedication, about sacrifice, about strength—do you have the right to oversee us? Does your organization? Do the countries of this world?"
Each word from Melin was a steel needle in Fury's heart, forcing him to face a question he'd never even considered.
"Then… I mean, the Sanctuary—do you plan to oversee…" Fury asked hesitantly.
"The Sanctuary is a guardian, not a ruler. That was true hundreds of thousands of years ago, and it's true now. Besides, we don't have the time or interest to micromanage your affairs."
"These… are just minor issues to you?" Fury and Coulson both stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
In their eyes, such threats—if realized—would collapse society. Countless dead. Civilizations set back a century.
And Melin called that "minor"?
"Do you know about the Three Mile Island battle?" Melin asked.
"Yes." Fury and Coulson both went silent, waiting.
"That was just the fractured divine soul of Ares. Hades, Poseidon, Zeus… many gods are still alive. And… they will return."
That one sentence was enough.
Now they understood why, in Melin's eyes, these so-called crises were mere trifles.
God Wars. Wars that could destroy the Earth. Erase humanity.
And they were coming.