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The war room stands frozen, Thanos' voice—"You'll be next"—lingering like a specter.
Gamora's hands tremble, her saber hilt gripped so tightly her knuckles pale. Thanos' growl reopens scars—betrayal, fear, a childhood stolen.
Nebula's face drains of color, her body rigid. Memories of Thanos' experiments—blades, circuits, torment—flood her, locking her breath.
Tony scratches his head, brow furrowed. "Who's this Thanos guy again?"
Mikaela shrugs, arms crossed, lost. Natasha could sense the sisters' dread but stood silent, waiting for answers as well.
Peter steps forward, his leather coat catching the neon glow. His voice is grim, heavy with truth.
"Thanos, the Mad Titan," he begins. "A warlord who dreams of galactic domination, obsessed with 'balance' through slaughter—whole planets culled to satisfy his ideals."
He pauses, eyes scanning the crew. "His goal is to kill trillions to reshape the galaxy into his image."
Rocket snarls, claws flexing. "We gotta stop this lunatic before he turns us into space dust!"
Optimus' optics narrow, his frame steady. "A tyrant of such evil demands opposition," he rumbles.
The holo-table dims, its battle sims fading. Tony's arc reactor pulses, reflecting the crew's growing unease.
Gamora shakes her head, voice low, strained. "He's unbeatable, Peter. You don't know him—we should run, now, before he finds us."
Nebula's eyes glisten, tears threatening to spill. "You don't know what he'll do to us… to me," she whispers, voice breaking.
Her words hang, raw with terror. Memories of Thanos' cruelty—rebuilding her body, breaking her spirit—choke her.
Peter's heart aches but his resolve holds, unyielding.
"You don't have to go," he says, voice firm yet gentle. "But I do. Who knows how many innocent people are dying right now? They need me... The need Star-Lord."
Nebula's anger flares, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You're a fool, Peter!" she snaps, voice cracking with desperation.
She storms out, her footsteps echoing sharply against steel floors. Gamora hesitates, then chases after her.
The crew watches, silent, the sisters' fear a stark contrast to their usual fire.
Peter sighs, rubbing his neck, ignoring the sisters for now. He must prepare, and he won't face Thanos alone.
Tony breaks the silence, smirking faintly. "Well, that was intense. You sure about this, Quill?"
Natasha's hand brushes Peter's, grounding him. "We're with you," she murmurs, her eyes fierce.
Mikaela nods, fists clenched. "If this Thanos is trouble, let's hit him hard."
Padmé's gaze is steady, calculating. "This changes everything—we need a plan, Peter."
Groot rumbles, "I am Groot," branches tense. Cosmo whimpers, sensing the room's weight.
Howard downs his drink, grimacing. "Great, another mess," he mutters.
Peter's jaw sets, his mind racing. Thanos' threat demands action, and he'll rally allies to fight. 'We'll need all the help we can get…'
…
..
.
Peter stands in the war room, Knowhere's neon hum pulsing through the windows. The holo-table flickers, ready for his next move.
He exhales sharply, shaking off Nebula's tears. Thanos' threat demands allies, and Nova's fall won't wait.
Peter activates a holo-call, Republic High Command's stern faces materializing. His voice is urgent, commanding attention.
"Thanos hit Xandar with the Kree," he says. "He's growing stronger with every planet he takes—we stop him now, or his army becomes unstoppable."
A Republic non-Jedi general, face lined with fatigue, shakes his head. "Our war with the Separatists stretches us thin, General Quill."
Another chimes in, dismissive. "Nova may be our allies, but it's not our fight. Our armies grow, but so do the enemies. We can't spare them."
Peter's fists clench, knuckles whitening. "You're letting a madman run loose because you're 'busy'? That's weak."
The general's eyes narrow. "Return to Coruscant, General Quill. Stay out of the Kree-Nova war—that's an order."
Peter snarls, "Cowards," and slams the console, ending the call. The Republic's refusal fuels his fire.
The war room's tension spikes, neon lights casting harsh glows. The crew watches, silent, awaiting his next step.
A new call buzzes, the holo flickering to life. Peter answers, voice sharp, expecting more Republic nonsense.
Yoda's image appears, green and serene. His knowing gaze pierces through Peter's anger, calming the storm.
"Defiant, you are, young Quill," Yoda hums. "Coruscant's orders, you will not follow, hmm?"
Peter huffs, caught off guard. "You know me, Master Yoda. Nova needs help—Thanos won't wait."
"Busy, the Jedi of Coruscant are," Yoda says, eyes twinkling. "But Earth's Jedi… less so, they are."
Yoda's image fades, replaced by Mace Windu's, his grin wide.
"We're packing as we speak, Peter," Windu says, voice steady. "Earth's Jedi are ready—just tell us where to meet."
Peter smiles, warmth breaking through his frustration. Yoda's subtle aid has delivered a powerful ally.
"Thank you, Master," Peter says, bowing. "Your temple's help will be a game-changer."
Windu nods, his gaze sharp. "We'll be a force Thanos won't expect."
Peter's worries eased, sensing hope in Windu's help.
"Thanos himself's another beast," Peter warns, voice low. "Don't leave yet. I need you to recruit more allies first..."
Windu's eyes gleam with understanding. "We'll rally who we can. This fight needs everyone we can get, after all."
…
..
.
Peter lets out a sigh of relief as his call with Windu comes to an end, his resolve hardening. Earth's Jedi are a start, but Thanos demands more.
'Hopefully, they'll agree to help…'
His mind racing with strategy. Windu's recruitment would take time, but Nova's clock is ticking. He would have to set out before reinforcements could arrive…
————
Knowhere's shipyard buzzes, sparks flying from droid repairs. Neon lights cast a glow over Peter's army, poised for war.
Peter strides through the chaos, post-Windu call fueling his drive. The crew, minus Gamora and Nebula, dives into preparations.
Tony tweaks droid AI, smirking broadly. "These'll make Thanos regret waking up today," he quips, fingers dancing over circuits.
Rocket readies ship cannons, grinning feral. "Gonna blast that Titan to bits!" he cackles, wiring explosives.
Optimus oversees Cybertronian integration, his frame towering. His calm voice directs droids, ensuring seamless coordination.
Natasha and Mikaela coordinate logistics, sharp-eyed. They sync ship deployments, their efficiency cutting through the noise.
Padmé drafts alerts for Republic contacts, her pen swift. She hopes to sway minds despite their earlier refusal.
Carina and Oola secure Coaxium reserves for the trip, faces tense. Knowhere's wealth fuels the army, their stakes high.
Howard grumbles, hauling crates. "This better not end badly," he mutters.
Groot sways, boosting morale with gentle rumbles. "I am Groot," he says, Cosmo barking cheerfully beside him.
The shipyard hums, metal clanging, engines warming.
He pauses, checking a warship's status, when Nebula appears, eyes red. Her presence halts the shipyard's rhythm.
"Don't go," she begs, voice breaking, raw. "Peter, please—Thanos will kill you, I know it."
Her tears glint under neon lights, stunning Peter. Nebula's never shown such vulnerability, her fear palpable.
"I've loved you since we met," she sobs, stepping closer. "Run with me, away from him, from all this!"
Peter's heart twists, her confession surprising him. Nebula's love, buried beneath trauma, spills out unfiltered.
He hesitates, the shipyard's clatter fading. Her raw emotion clashes with his duty.
"I can't let Nova die," he says softly, voice steady. "Thanos has to be stopped, Nebula."
He pulls her close, her trembling frame against his. His lips meet hers, a firm, fleeting kiss.
Peter pulls back, smiling gently. "I'll take care of this and be back before you know it," he promises.
He turns, his coat swishing, and walks away. Nebula stands, crying, her tears pooling on the steel floor.
From the shadows, Gamora watches, unseen, her face sad. Her sister's pain mirrors her own, unspoken.
The shipyard's noise surges back, sparks flying anew. Peter's resolve hardens, his focus on the army.
Tony notices Peter's return, raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay, Quill? Looked heavy over there."
Natasha's gaze lingers on Peter, sensing his burden. She nods silently, ready to back his lead. Usually, she and the other girls would be pissed about what just happened, but it was hard to be angry in this situation. Especially as they watched Nebula pace off, still crying.
Mikaela and Padmé exchange worried glances, but say nothing.
The army's clatter grows louder, ships humming with life.
Peter glances back, Nebula's silhouette gone. Gamora's absence weighs, but Thanos' threat demands action now.
'I can talk to her again when this is all over…'
————
Once the preparations were complete, a sea of droids and warships were gathered. Peter stands elevated, his army vast and ready.
He surveys the ranks, heart pounding with purpose. Thanos' shadow looms, Nova's fall a fresh wound driving him.
The army is mighty—battle droids, sleek fighters, heavy cruisers—but Thanos demands more. A final upgrade could shift the tide.
Peter's Mechu-Deru hums, tying him to the machines. His hand reaches for the AllSpark, hanging from his neck.
The relic pulses, its glow faint but alive. It's the key to transforming his army, a gamble worth taking.
He pulls the AllSpark free, its blue light flaring. Using the Force, he channels its ancient energy, eyes blazing.
"Time to wake up," Peter murmurs, voice steady. "Let's give Thanos a fight he won't forget."
The AllSpark ignites, a radiant wave of blue light erupting. It sweeps the shipyard, engulfing droids and ships.
Metal twists and circuits spark with life. The air hums, Knowhere's pulse quickening as the transformation begins.
Battle droids shudder, their rigid frames softening. Optics flicker to life, movements now fluid, almost human.
Assault droids, once clunky, stand tall, their blasters gleaming. Scout units dart, agile, their sensors pulsing with awareness.
Warships groan, hulls rippling like muscle. Cockpits glow, voices—deep, resonant—echoing through comms, pledging allegiance.
"Creator," a cruiser rumbles, its voice a low hum. "We live to serve."
Thousands of Cybertronians emerge, each pulsing with Peter's essence. The AllSpark binds them, loyal to their maker.
The scale staggers—tens of thousands, from nimble scouts to towering dreadnoughts.
Neon lights reflect off Cybertronian armor, their hum vibrating the ground. Peter's Force aura flares, god-like, commanding.
The army kneels, a synchronized wave of metal. Their voices rise, a chorus shaking the shipyard.
"We serve the creator, against all foes!" they declare, loyalty absolute, their forms a gleaming testament.
Peter stands, AllSpark dimming in his hand. His chest tightens, the weight of their devotion humbling yet empowering.
The crew, gathered behind, gapes at the spectacle. Tony's jaw drops, his usual quip faltering.
"Well, that's new," Tony mutters, shocked.
Rocket whoops, claws raised. "Now we're talking firepower! Thanos is gonna eat plasma, Quill!"
Optimus nods, optics bright, sensing kinship. "A noble force, Peter. They carry your spark, as I do mine."
Natasha and Mikaela exchange awed looks. "You've outdone yourself," Natasha says, her voice low, impressed.
Mikaela grins, fists clenched. "This is our shot—Thanos won't know what hit him."
Padmé whispers, "This changes everything." Her senator's mind races, seeing a galaxy reshaped by Peter's power.
Groot rumbles, "I am Groot," branches swaying in awe. Cosmo barks excitedly, tail a blur.
The shipyard's air crackles, sparks still falling from transformed droids.
Optimus' voice rumbles, deep. "A creator's burden is heavy, Peter. Guide them with purpose."
The Cybertronians rise, their optics locked on Peter. Their hum fills the shipyard, a symphony of loyalty.
Peter's eyes scan the ranks, his resolve steel. "Thanos wants a war? He's got one."
He grips the AllSpark, its glow faint but warm. The Force surges, tying him to his living army.
Rocket cackles, climbing a droid's shoulder. "Let's roll out and smash that Titan's face!"
The crew rallies behind him, united in awe. Knowhere's lights flare, a beacon against Thanos' shadow.
The shipyard trembles with the army's might. Peter's Cybertronians stand ready, a force to reshape the galaxy.
A/N: 2000 words :)
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