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"You must understand that we are both stuck in this godforsaken place. If we can't get this ship working, we're both going to die here sooner or later. If we can repair the communication system, we might have a chance to call for help. Otherwise, if those raiders aren't willing to take a second look at our piece of junk, we're finished..."
Jeff, the blue-skinned man, shouted at Arthur, "And it's all your fault!"
"Yes, yes, it's all my fault."
Arthur stretched out his arms and yawned, "Is blaming me enough for you? What are you going to do about it?"
Jeff stared blankly for a moment, his frustration almost making him cry.
He was a perfectly good warden, with no problems in his career, he was planning to retire in a few years, and everything was going smoothly!
Then along comes Arthur, who just happened to get him into this mess and lead a prison break...
This was truly a case of "trouble comes from the sky.".
Seeing Arthur's nonchalant attitude towards their current situation, Jeff was ready to give up completely...
Unfortunately, he couldn't fight him!
After assessing the gap between them, Jeff continued to work on the repairs with a fuming expression on his face.
Arthur sat in the pilot's seat, dazed for a moment, then slapped his face.
Self-pity was fine for a while, but if it continued, it wouldn't help.
He never even considered dying in space as an option.
In a crisis, despair was understandable, but when the immediate danger was over, wallowing in despair would only lead to self-contempt.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur began to assess the current situation he had found and created for himself.
There was no point in staying in space indefinitely; he had to find a way out.
Even though he was in space now, that didn't mean he couldn't return. According to the Marvel movies, there were many ways to get back.
One of those ways...
He turned to Jeff, "Do you know about Asgard?"
"Asgard?" Jeff looked at Arthur, confused, "Why are you asking about that?"
"Do you know how to get there?" Arthur, feeling excited, grabbed Jeff by the collar and lifted him up.
Jeff looked at Arthur like he was crazy before asking, "How would I know how to get to Asgard?"
"..."
Arthur shrugged and let go of Jeff's collar.
Jeff, now feeling even more angry, continued to try to repair the communication system and asked, "Why do you want to go to Asgard? It's not a place you can just visit, and it's supposed to be incredibly far away."
"...From Xandar, it only takes eighteen months to reach this so-called Asgard."
Arthur sighed deeply, "But I don't know which way to go. Otherwise, I'd just be flying in the dark for a year and a half, and with luck I might end up there."
"Why do you want to go to Asgard?" Jeff asked confused, "As a criminal, aren't you afraid of godly judgment if you go there?"
"Do you believe I'll just judge you myself first?"
Arthur's expression was dark, but with no one else around to comment, he continued, "Asgard has Bifrost. I can use it to get back to Earth."
"Why go back?"
Jeff said, "As far as I know, no one from Earth wants to go back. A backward, even barbaric planet? They don't even know there's life elsewhere in the universe! If it were not for the protection of some powerful beings, it would have been a plaything for other rulers long ago."
"Have you met many earthlings?"
Arthur looked at the blue-skinned man and asked.
"Hmm, two people, counting you."
Jeff said seriously.
Arthur twitched at the thought that Jeff had seen many earthlings.
Not wanting to deal with this guy who liked to play the role of the Devil on the left shoulder, Arthur put his hands behind his head and tried to organize his thoughts.
However, what he saw immediately made him abandon that idea.
"You mentioned earlier… that unless it's Raiders, no one would even glance at our Spaceship?" Arthur asked Jeff.
Without looking up, Jeff replied, "Of course. Only they might find something valuable to sell in the wreckage of the ship... They're like the junk collectors of the universe. Some even say that they are explorers who go to strange places in search of valuable items, and there are special missions associated with them... Why do you ask?"
"I think you should take a look at the starry sky if you have the time."
Arthur's mouth twitched as he spoke.
Jeff, feeling confused, looked up and nearly dropped his jaw in shock.
At some point, a massive object was floating outside.
That massive object was dark gold in color, it exuded a desolate and dilapidated aura, but also carried an indescribable sense of oppression!
"When did it appear?" Jeff's face turned pale as he looked at the object and asked.
Arthur blinked before replying, "Probably... when I asked you."
"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Jeff jumped up anxiously.
Arthur asked, "Can our ship move?"
"No," Jeff replied.
"Then what's the point of mentioning it?"
Arthur said, "The communication equipment is destroyed. We can't even communicate... Wait, what's that?"
He suddenly felt their ship being gently pulled towards the massive object, and it was as if some force was pulling them in.
"It's a tractor beam!"
Jeff said with a start, "We're probably being taken as spoils by these Raiders."
"Are they bad or good?" Arthur didn't know much about these people, except that he remembered Yondu from Guardians of the Galaxy.
That whistling arrow trick was impressive.
"Whether they are good or bad depends on our luck."
Jeff was quite depressed.
Arthur, however, smiled and said, "Stay calm. Aren't I here? Don't worry. If they're bad, we'll kill them all and take their ship and then we will go sraight to Asgard!"
"Hearing you talk like that, I suddenly realize that you might actually be the bad guy!"
Jeff looked at the large ship in front of them and then at Arthur.
He felt like he was caught between a wolf and a tiger - neither of which he could handle at the moment.
Seeing Jeff's reaction, Arthur patted his shoulder and transported him into the Disassembler space.
Then, he hid in a corner, waiting quietly for the others to 'rescue' him.
Gently biting his lip, Arthur had changed into battle gear, donned his mask, and gripped his weapon.
If the others harbored malicious intent, he had no qualms about going on a killing spree!
...