Chapter 918: Having Been Here (Part 2)

In a dark and empty region of space, faint glimmers of newborn stars could be seen—stars not yet mature, not bright, but already leaving their mark upon the cosmos.

Beside one such newborn star, a small figure floated amid a chaotic pile of debris, helplessly pressing her palms to her forehead.

The debris was immense and disordered, containing everything imaginable: some pieces resembled cabins, others looked like docks, and still others were clearly propulsion units from starships.

North Star let out a deep sigh and turned to Blue Spirit beside him: "Are you serious? You want me to sort every single piece—down to the exact component positions—and then reassemble them roughly into their original shapes?"

Blue Spirit, standing on a fragment, nodded: "Of course. You don't need to design anything—it's Tony Stark's blueprint."

"Here's his exact words: During the salvage operation, we've recovered over ninety-five percent of the ship and starport components. Theoretically, we can put them back together."

"I don't require it to function again after assembly—just restore its original form."

"I…" North Star stared, mouth agape, for at least twenty seconds before speaking: "... o you even hear what you're saying??!"

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"You and that Sheler cooked up some grand conspiracy, piloted an alien ship into an alien starport, smashed them both to smithereens, and now you want me to glue them back together… Are you two insane???"

"If you wanted a working vessel, why not just leave the ship intact and not crash it?!"

Blue Spirit shrugged and activated the comm unit mounted on his arm. Stark's voice came through: "Looks like you didn't listen to the pre-mission briefing at all."

"This flagship is no longer the Skrull Empire's newest warship. When that Skrull general launched it, it was already years in service. Decades of neglect, with Ganar too busy to maintain it—its condition is dire."

"It's too large, too many gun ports, excessive firepower, overly conspicuous, and possibly equipped with undisclosed communication systems linking it to other Skrull vessels. In short, humans can't handle this ship."

"Yet even so, the Skrull flagship was forged with a unique method. Most of humanity's current weapons and cutting tools can't even pierce its hull. You can't expect me to slice it open by hand, can you?"

"Besides, smashing it like this would be a waste. Sheler, that stingy bastard, would never approve."

"He'd claw two gold bricks out of a trash can lid. If we just scrap this flagship, the last thing I'll hear before I die will be his complaints."

"He wants to trade this ship for an old Kree starport—the one we obtained from the Kree escort ship's schematics. That old starport is outdated, but perfectly suited for humans."

"But we can't tow that starport either. This Skrull flagship isn't a docking vessel, and the sorcerers' portals aren't large enough for us to escape the scene quickly."

"The best solution is to shatter both, then use the sorcerers' portal technology to transport them back in batches."

"We could just leave them in pieces and study each component's tech separately—but since mutants have such powerful abilities, why not reassemble them? Isn't it just like building with blocks?"

"Building with blocks…" North Star covered her face with both hands and said: "Tony Stark, I can't claw gold bricks out of a trash can lid—but I can sure as hell make your trash can lid fly straight into the back of your skull and knock some sense into you!"

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"How am I supposed to reassemble all this?!! How many fragments are there?! I can't even tell which parts these fragments belong to!! Like these two—"

! Even if you have the blueprint, do you know how many fragments there are here? I can't even tell which parts these fragments belong to!

North Star waved her hand, and two fragments, each nearly her height, drifted over. Both were pitch-black, devoid of any markings, nearly identical in shape and size. From Stark's blueprint, it was impossible to determine where they belonged.

Starlight waved her hand, and two fragments, each about her height, floated over; both were pitch-black with no markings, nearly identical in shape and size, and from Stark's design schematics, it was impossible to tell where they should be installed.

"I don't even ask you to tell me which component they belong to—just tell me which one is from the starport and which is from the ship…"

Stark snorted: "The one on your right is a fragment of the starport's foundation—its exposed metal shows clear support structures. The one on your left is from the ship—specifically, the support beneath a gun port, identifiable by its obvious heat-resistant coating and shock-absorbing framework…"

"Lorna." For the first time, Stark didn't use his usual sarcastic tone. He spoke seriously: "I can tell you with full responsibility—you can do far more than you imagine."

"You may be exhausted now, but you're nowhere near your limit. I don't know why you always resist tapping into this power—but now, the arrow is on the string. You must fire."

"Once assembled, we'll tow the starport to the edge of the Solar System for future starships to dock. And this entire flagship? It's your reward for the mutants' contribution to this plan."

Hearing this, North Star's heart lurched. She repeated: "What?!! You mean… if I rebuild the ship, it's ours?!!"

If I can put this ship back together, it's ours??

"Yes, you heard right. If you restore the ship now, you can fly it straight back—to the island in the Andromeda Galaxy. I'm certain the native inhabitants there will welcome you warmly."

North Star swallowed hard, hearing the thunderous beat of her own heart. She spoke, disbelief trembling in her voice: "You mean… mutants are going to have a starship? A ship this big, this magnificent…?"

Starlight swallowed hard, hearing her heart pounding wildly, and said in disbelief, "You mean… mutants are about to have a spaceship?? And not just any ship—this huge, magnificent one…"

"Correct. Though it may not matter much to you or Magneto, if mutants ever plan a large-scale relocation, you'll need at least one transport vessel. You're moving home, not fleeing for survival—you can't rely on sheer willpower to endure cosmic radiation."

"Mutants are relocating on a large scale?!!" North Star's fingers trembled. "Is this Professor X's decision?"

"No. It's yours. If you can repair this ship, you can fly it to the island and bring the struggling mutants with you. If you can't? Then the relocation will have to wait."

After the communication ended, Blue Spirit stepped closer, concerned: "Wait, Lorna, don't get worked up—your breathing's off. Calm down… yes, deep breaths… follow me… inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale…"

North Star pressed a hand to her chest, closed her eyes, swallowed again, and whispered, voice shaking: "Do you know? Do you know… Blue Spirit, I don't even have my own house—neighbors refused to sell to mutants. I don't have a car—mutants struggle to get driver's licenses…"

"But now… I'm going to have my own starship! If I can rebuild it, I can just fly it away… Oh, wait—assuming I can physically assemble it, how do I even turn it on?"

North Star looked down at the blueprint. "The startup system must be incredibly complex. Stark's always full of big talk—maybe he's just tricking me into working harder…"

But then she paused, thinking: "Still, even if I can only assemble it, I can drag it back to Andromeda. If I can't, I can always ask… no, forget it. Just try assembling it first. It's just bigger LEGO blocks."

Seeing the terrifying greed gleaming in North Star's eyes, Blue Spirit stepped back slightly. "Lorna, I'm leaving. Call me if you need anything."

North Star no longer heard anything. She closed her eyes and focused on sensing the magnetic field.

Magnetic fields were a wondrous thing—everything altered them. And what North Star could control went beyond mere magnetism; her power was fundamentally no different from Magneto's.

In daily life, her abilities seemed far weaker than his because she had always resisted delving deeper into them.

But now, North Star felt a flame of greed ignite in her chest.

This wasn't a small house. Not a regular car. This was a starship—the flagship of the universe's most advanced civilization. No purchase required. No application needed. Only her power, used to assemble it.

After calming her mind, North Star used her ability to scan every fragment, searching for hidden traces.

But soon, she realized her current control over magnetism couldn't pinpoint every tiny component. She needed to sense the magnetic field with far greater precision.

Yet, bound by her human body, she found she could reach no further.

After a few seconds of stillness, her figure vanished midair—she temporarily shifted her life form, merging completely with the magnetic field.

Her senses sharpened, spreading through every corner of the mechanical parts, then penetrating inward, perceiving the very composition of matter.

Minute fluctuations in the magnetic field became crystal clear. Molecular friction roared like thunder. Once she discerned component origins at the microscopic level, everything became simple.

Within mere minutes, tens of thousands of shattered fragments were sorted into two groups, then began to reassemble.

Throughout this process, North Star had to expend immense power to precisely control every massive component, removing damaged sections and joining compatible parts in the most optimal way.

The blueprint floated slowly above her. When a fragment's shape matched a designated part in the design, it snapped instantly into place—and North Star's form reappeared.

Before her, the colossal starship had regained its basic form. Though some painted outer hull sections remained lost at the crash site, the overall structure was intact.

Yet North Star frowned. Clearly, things weren't going smoothly.

After hours of integration and assembly, she realized she couldn't truly reassemble the ship. Though its overall structure was restored, it remained nothing more than a pile of fragments.

North Star knew she couldn't magically produce glue. Nor did she have specialized adhesive for starship repair.

So she sought another method: using magnetism to bind the pieces together.

But it wasn't easy. Every fragment's joining surface differed. One misaligned connection could unravel the entire structure.

It was a tedious, repetitive, exhausting task. North Star remained alone in the vast emptiness of space for a full week.

She had lost count of how many times her power had been drained—only knowing that from initially bonding three parts per hour, she now perfectly fused dozens of components within ten minutes. Her full power had been unleashed, honed, and elevated through relentless repetition.

Then, North Star realized there was a better way.

Magnetism wasn't the end—it was the beginning. Beyond it, a vast microscopic world opened before her.

Molecular motion and interlocking, atomic collisions and friction—finer, stronger, more precisely controllable.

The microcosm, the macrocosm—all within her grasp.

When North Star opened her eyes, her body remained tiny beside the colossal ship—but the grand vessel now stood like a loyal giant, swearing fealty to her.

The moment she extended her hand, her hair stirred, a spark bloomed—and countless streams of light swept across the hull.

The scars of the explosion faded slowly, as if time reversed. Components aligned in bizarre yet perfectly logical angles, healing like wounds, reuniting into a whole.

When she was crowned, she granted rebirth to those who pledged loyalty.

At that moment, her fear of losing control vanished. For the first time, she understood why Magneto dared to unleash and wield his power.

Magnetism wasn't their weapon—it was their very essence. The planet wasn't their home—it was a child cradled in their arms.

In this boundless universe, they were the sea.