Chapter 1363: The Call of the Stars (Part 6)

"What is that?" Stark asked, his brow muscles tightening.

"Just Dormammu."

Strange leaned back into the single-seater sofa quite relaxed, hands resting on the armrests, legs crossed, and said: "I have Great Demon Shadows, Crimson Lords, Hell Lords here... Tony, do you really think the existence of these beings is so simple?"

"Actually, just like humans, energy is a tool for humans, and it is for them too. The importance of energy to them is about the same as it is to humans. We drive machines and build civilizations with energy, but that is not who we are."

"Are they not energy beings?"

"That is just one way they manifest." After the deep darkness in Strange's eyes faded, his gaze held the wisdom of the Sorcerer Supreme. He pulled his forearms inward, fingers interlaced, and placed them before him: "The core of every Great Demon God is a concept or a rule, not energy."

"The Dark Dimension is Dormammu's property, and he views it as very important. In order to have more of his property, he seeks to erode the world with darkness, but that is only because of his greed, not a survival necessity."

"As long as darkness exists in this universe, Dormammu will never truly die. His death is more akin to slumber; endless sleep replaces true extinction. Perhaps only when the universe is destroyed will he be destroyed along with it."

"And throughout the long history of Sorcerers Supreme dealing with such beings, we have encountered even stranger and more terrifying existences. My teacher, the Ancient One, once told me of that twisted and horrifying history."

Strange and Stark simultaneously fixed their gazes on the black notebook. As their lines of sight converged, Stark heard from Strange the old stories of mages exploring what lay behind the stars.

"In the ancient Hyperborean Age, mages had already begun to feel curious about what lay behind the stars. They drew magic circles and offered sacrifices, summoning these terrifying beings hidden behind the constellations."

"Modern mages generally believe that those so-called magic circles and sacrifices didn't actually work; it was the mages' peering into the stars that drew the attention of these ancient existences."

"When they cast their attention over, the mages gained unparalleled power, but simultaneously fell into endless madness and agony. Modern mages also generally believe that this power was not bestowed by those beings, and neither was the madness."

Stark shook his head slightly, indicating he hadn't fully understood. Strange had used many ancient and profound terms, some not even sounding like human language, but he continued in that same indulgent tone:

"The power the mages gained was merely the ripples of their arrival, and the madness they encountered was simply because they stared directly into madness itself. These descending existences did not wish to bless anyone, nor did they wish for anyone to suffer; their existence is, in itself, extreme chaos and madness."

"And as for what they are, my teacher, the Ancient One, once said: there are no treasures behind the starry sky, only endless blindness and idiocy."

"They hide in the non-material realms deep within the stars, and when the stars are right, they shall descend once more."

"Who exactly are they?"

Strange looked back in the direction of Stark's focused gaze, then, as if falling into a state of inspiration, spat out a string of languages Stark could not understand. Yet, these languages gathered in Stark's mind to form a single name: "Great Old Ones."

"Please forgive me for only now using a specific term to describe the horrifying story I experienced. If this were a novel, I would title it—'The Return of the Old Ones.'"

"But it is not that I was too negligent to use specific pronouns to refer to them; it is because finding the story of this name was equally thrilling and stimulating. I must record it. It all began with my expedition to track the alien crash site at the foot of Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park."

Sitting at the desk, Schiller lifted his pen and looked toward the window with tired eyes. The sun was finally rising, the scorching light growing brighter. The light flickered; when the flashlight moved away, it revealed the face of Quill, covered in tiny scratches.

He walked with difficulty through the jungle, occasionally using his walking stick to push aside dense shrubs, stumbling forward.

"For the sake of the life you just saved, can't you listen to me once?! We should be heading back to the base now, not continuing to venture deeper into danger!" Rocket Raccoon, gripping the handle of the hiking pack, shouted in Quill's ear. "And you still say you aren't afraid of heights? Then how do you explain fainting at the top of such a tall tree?!"

Quill pursed his lips, as if he didn't want to discuss the topic. He turned his head away and said, "Thanks for using the grappling hook to save me and keep me from breaking my spine, but that was really just an accident. I feel my condition is quite good."

Rocket Raccoon sighed deeply and didn't try to persuade him further. Quill quickened his pace; the smoke column from the crashed ship was getting closer.

A few minutes later, pushing aside the drooping leaves of a dense broad-leaf plant, Quill finally saw the crashed ship.

"My God. What is this?!"

Quill's shock was beyond measure, because what appeared before him was not the exquisite, minimalist, aerodynamic metal object he had imagined—all the shipwrecks he had seen at NASA were like that.

To call this a ship was inaccurate; it looked more like a fragment of an inverted palace plunged into the ground, as if a piece of a massive palace had been shattered and tossed here.

Quill walked closer and realized his judgment was correct. It should be three-quarters of the spire of a Gothic palace—the kind of spire architecture common to the main halls of Gothic cathedrals.

He called it Gothic because his rather limited architectural knowledge couldn't find a more precise style to describe this structure. It was pitch black, with golden light flowing on the walls, and starlight patterns shimmering on the metal decorations.

But at the same time, the space around it felt distorted, making one feel that it didn't actually grow like this; it was just that the human brain could only interpret it as such.

"No wonder the NASA director was so convinced there was treasure inside..."

In front of the massive ruin, Quill's figure was so small he was almost disappearing. He stared up at the magnificent wreckage.

Then he suddenly reacted, clutching his throat and saying: "How did I not see such a big guy when I was on the mountain peak? This, this isn't scientific..."

"The fact that you can still uphold a scientific heart now can be called an expression of firm will." Rocket Raccoon also stared at this structure and patted Quill on the shoulder with a paw.

"I don't think you'll have a good ending if you rashly enter this place. I think we should leave first and then discuss it from a long-term perspective."

"You really don't look like a beast, or rather, you're the exact opposite." Quill said, moving his feet, starting to circle the wreckage, seemingly wanting to find an entrance.

Suddenly, a tremor came from the ground. Quill hadn't reacted before he was shaken to the ground. He struggled to steady his body, and at the same time, a low bell tolled.

"Dong... dong... dong..."

The world spun.

Quill covered his ears, but couldn't block out the tolling. He saw, in the shadows of the trees under the moonlight, those terrifying, sticky tentacles beginning to twist and move again.

The sticky sensation crawled up his ankles, then over his entire body, then deep into his stomach and intestines. Quill opened his mouth, gasping for air, his ears filled with the sound of sickles emerging from eyes to pierce his own abdominal skin.

"Squish, squish, squish..."

Eyes emerging from the pupae waved countless sharp limbs, sprinting toward the depths of the darkness, climbing onto the faces of several figures in the dark, becoming their eyes.

The monsters carrying the eyes drew closer, "Squish, squish, squish..."

Quill waved his arms frantically, shouting: "Don't come over, don't come over! Get lost, get lost now!!!!"

"Are you okay? Hey! Hey! Buddy, wake up! We aren't monsters, we're S. H. I. E. L. D. agents! Can you sober up?"

Bright light shone on Quill's face. The stimulation of the light suddenly brought him back to his senses. His arm froze in mid-air; after moving it, he saw the faces of several young men.

"Are you okay? What on earth is wrong with you?"

The face of the leading young man made Quill feel a sense of familiarity. His thoughts were suddenly pulled back to his first day back on Earth. Beside a newsstand, he had called Lisa, and at that moment, the newspaper the newsboy was holding featured this young man's face on the front page.

"Peter... Peter Parker?"

"See, I told you sending Riley to soothe him would be effective. Everyone trusts Peter Parker." An Asian youth standing behind the leader spread his hands.

"Old man, if you're fine, don't lie on the ground. Isn't it cold? Watch your back." The Asian youth walked up and pulled Quill up. Quill shook his head hard, looking not quite sober.

"Sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I have to ask, why are you here? And what is your relationship with this mysterious building?"

"I am, I am a NASA investigator." Quill gasped for air: "Who are you guys? I don't think S. H. I. E. L. D. agents would be this young."

"We aren't official agents, just on a temporary mission from S. H. I. E. L. D. I'm Ben Reilly, you can also call me Peter Parker, whatever you like. My friends and I were commissioned by S. H. I. E. L. D. to investigate this unidentified flying object crash."

Reilly reached out to Quill. Quill clutched his head with one hand and shook Reilly's hand lightly with the other: "So you're those freaks with special abilities?"

Reilly looked back at his teammates. Standing behind him were Scarlet Witch Wanda, Jarvis, and Xu Shang-Chi. Then he looked back at Quill and nodded: "Yes, we all have special abilities, but we can't be called freaks."

"After all, we didn't collapse in the bushes in the middle of the night screaming." Reilly shrugged. Listening to his relaxed tone, Quill looked around and found nothing.

No twisted tentacles, no terrifying slime. He looked down at his abdomen again; there were no monsters bursting out. It was all a hallucination.

"Nothing, I just fell." Quill said, "My name is Peter Quill, you can also call me Star-Lord, and this is my friend Rocket Raccoon."

Reilly blinked and looked at the raccoon jumping onto Quill's shoulder. He wanted to correct Quill's wording, but heard the raccoon open its mouth and say to him: "Hello, I'm Rocket Raccoon. Take back those impolite words you have on the tip of your tongue. I am not his pet."

"Um, okay, sorry." Reilly scratched his head, but the ease with which he accepted it made Rocket Raccoon feel uncomfortable. He deliberately lowered one eyebrow and made a strange expression: "Aren't you surprised that I can talk?"

"Uh, I also know a friend. I often go to his house to play games. He's a talking mouse. I think you two might have a lot in common."

"I don't think so."

"Alright, everyone, stop the small talk. Reilly, didn't you shout about speed-running before you came? Let's hurry in. No matter what we find, just stuff it all into magic and throw it to Nick to deal with."

Xu Shang-Chi frowned and shook his head, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Wanda keenly noticed that his mood was a bit off, so she asked: "What's wrong with you, Xu? Didn't you go to the Spear Agency for training a while ago? Still can't control that so-called 'Qi'?"

"I feel the flow of Qi is becoming chaotic." Xu Shang-Chi took a deep breath: "I have a bit of a stomachache. Maybe I ate too much for lunch, but in short, I'm not feeling well. Let's finish the investigation quickly and get out of here."

Jarvis reached out to support Xu Shang-Chi, but Xu Shang-Chi pushed him away gently, indicating he didn't need help. At this moment, Reilly, standing at the very front, expressed surprise that Quill wanted to go in and investigate together.

"Sorry, I'm really not trying to look down on you, but it's very clear that your current mental and physical state is probably not suitable..."

Reilly stopped mid-sentence. He looked at Quill. The young man's current state was indeed not good, even terrible—his face was covered in scratches, he was pale, and he was covered in dirt, but there was a somewhat abnormal excitement in his eyes.

"My condition is great. Believe me, just like you, I need to get some investigation results back to report. I can help."

Reilly hesitated, but thinking of his identity as Spider-Man, and looking back at Wanda, their group's abilities were more than enough to explore a crashed ship. Bringing one more person along didn't matter, even if he was a burden.

Thus, the group began to circle the spire looking for an entrance. Their small figures moved through the magnificent building, almost merging with the darkness.

And at the broken top of the spire hung a massive full moon.

"When we are obsessed with the moon, we ignore the inconspicuous stars hidden in the darkness behind this bright celestial body.

Too many anomalies reminded me that I should have escaped early, but at that time, I completely ignored them. Like those residues swept into a vortex, I slid uncontrollably toward the unknown dark void."

Most of the hallucination descriptions in this unit come from hallucinations the author saw when their mental state was not good.

Most of the hallucination descriptions in this unit come from hallucinations the author saw when his mental state was not very good.