"Mom, I'm back!"
Peter Quill pushed the metal shopping cart overflowing with 1980s toys up the driveway of a perfectly ordinary, sunlit suburban home. The front door opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on an apron. She had a warm, familiar smile.
Quill's mother. Alive, healthy, and exactly as he remembered her.
The man who called himself a legendary galactic outlaw simply transformed into an overgrown kid. He happily showed off his plastic treasures, listened to his Walkman cassettes with her, and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy a quiet, perfectly normal lunch.
This was the life Peter Quill truly wanted.
Watching from the sidewalk outside the illusion, Gwen Stacy felt a heavy, painful knot form in her chest. She turned to Cindy Moon, her voice wavering. "Do we really have to wake him up?"
She couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of trauma a person had to endure to consider this—a simple, boring lunch in the suburbs—as their ultimate, most impossible fantasy.
Cindy stood silently for a moment, her dark eyes reflecting a profound sympathy. But she nodded anyway. She walked up the concrete path and knocked firmly on the front door.
Quill opened the door a moment later, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. He looked at the two teenage girls in their sleek spider-suits with genuine confusion. "Hey, kids. Are you lost or something?"
"We need Star-Lord's help," Cindy said flatly.
"I'm not sure where you heard that name, but I'm just an ordinary guy," Quill chuckled, taking a bite of his sandwich. "I'm not a big shot. 'Star-Lord' is just the name of my garage band."
Gwen blinked. "You have a band?"
"Yeah, it's me, a couple of weirdos, and Rocket..." Quill smiled, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
"Rocket is a heavily armed raccoon," Cindy deadpanned.
"Stop kidding around, how could Rocket be a raccoon...?" Quill's smile slowly faded. His brow furrowed as his brain tried to process the absolute absurdity of his own statement. "My God. Rocket is a raccoon. What kind of messed-up scenario is this?"
"This is an illusion," Cindy explained softly. "We're inside the Soul Stone. Adam Warlock's pocket universe."
Quill rubbed his face with his free hand. The carefree, boyish light in his eyes vanished, replaced instantly by the heavy, exhausted stare of a man who had seen too much of the galaxy. He looked back over his shoulder toward the kitchen.
He gave Cindy and Gwen a sad, apologetic smile. "I understand. Just... give me a minute, okay? I need to say goodbye to my mom. Thank you."
Gwen turned away, unable to watch as Peter Quill walked back into the kitchen, hugged his mother tightly, and whispered his goodbyes. The moment he let go, the suburban house, the 1980s street, and Meredith Quill completely dissolved into golden light.
They were back on the sprawling, golden fields of Adam Warlock's central dimension.
Quill looked around at the violet flora and the strange, alien skyline. He ran a hand through his hair. "Isn't this the Sovereign homeworld?"
"It is a projection of the most beautiful place in my memory, my friends," Adam Warlock said, walking toward them. He looked significantly less pale than before, his golden skin glowing with renewed vigor. He offered Cindy and Gwen a grateful bow. "Thank you. As you awaken more souls, the Stone's burden lessens, and I can channel more of its power."
"Alright," Quill sighed, slapping his cheeks to focus. "Should we split up and grab the rest?"
"It's better if we stick together for now," Cindy suggested. "There are people in here we don't know well. If we stumble into their dreams, we won't know the emotional trigger to wake them up."
With Adam's guidance, they stepped through the next shimmering rift.
The transition was jarring. They were instantly transported to a massive, sun-drenched mansion in the Hollywood Hills. Electronic dance music blared from massive speakers. It was a lavish pool party, absolutely packed with supermodels and celebrities. In this universe, the Fantastic Four weren't just heroes; they were global superstars, and Johnny Storm was at the very top of the A-list.
Johnny strolled toward them, a cocktail in one hand and two beautiful women on his arms, flashing a blinding, million-dollar smile.
"Excuse me, young ladies," Johnny winked at Gwen and Cindy. "We don't accept minors at the VIP cabana. Did you get lost on the studio tour?"
Gwen didn't say a word. She just marched forward, pulled her fist back, and punched the Human Torch squarely in the jaw.
[I THOROUGHLY ENJOYED THAT,] Venom purred in her mind as the mansion shattered into golden glass.
"Next," Gwen said, rubbing her knuckles with extreme satisfaction as Johnny groaned on the golden grass.
They moved rapidly through the dimensional doors.
Next was Ben Grimm. In his perfect world, he had never been exposed to cosmic radiation. He was just a handsome, hotshot test pilot, sitting in a diner and happily flirting with his girlfriend, Alicia. Johnny, now awake and nursing a bruised jaw, marched right up to the booth.
"Hey, rock-head!" Johnny yelled, slamming his hands on the table. "Get up and save the world!"
Gwen and Cindy watched in horror as the diner dissolved. Ben Grimm's handsome features warped and hardened, his skin cracking into thick, orange rocky plates. The moment he fully reverted to the Thing, he grabbed Johnny by the collar and hurled him thirty feet into the air.
"If I hadn't known what kind of shallow trash you were, Johnny, I would've knocked you into next week!" Ben roared.
"I dodged!" Johnny yelled back from the sky, hovering on a pillar of flame. "Besides, Alicia still loves you! She doesn't care that you look like a walking quarry! Stop wallowing in self-pity!"
Ben fell silent, his rocky shoulders slumping.
Next was Drax the Destroyer. Awakening him proved to be the most emotionally taxing. He had regressed to a time long before Thanos and Ronan—living peacefully on his home world with his wife, Ovette, and his daughter, Kamaria. Star-Lord had to step in, using the music from his Walkman to cut through the illusion, reminding Drax of the love that fueled his current quest, rather than letting him drown in a fake past.
"Thank you, Peter Quill," Drax said solemnly as the world faded around his weeping family. "You have reminded me of the beauty of my family, and why I must be so determined to seek my revenge."
Quill sighed helplessly. Re-igniting Drax's bloodlust hadn't exactly been his intention, but it worked.
They moved quickly through the remaining rifts. They found Susan Storm living in quiet, domestic bliss—an illusion that shattered the moment Johnny started loudly complaining about the decor. Susan's furious, sisterly roar tore the fabric of the dream apart instantly.
Gamora's universe was shockingly tragic. She didn't dream of weapons or conquest. She dreamed of living peacefully on a farm with her sister, Nebula, and a kind, loving version of her adoptive father, Thanos. Coincidentally, Drax stepped through the portal first. Seeing the Mad Titan holding a basket of crops, Drax immediately drew his daggers and charged. The sudden, brutal violence shattered Gamora's peaceful illusion before it even fully registered.
"Okay, pause," Gwen said, crossing her arms as they regrouped in the golden field. "We came into this rock specifically to find Mr. Fantastic so he could build a time machine. And we still haven't found him."
"How many are left?" Cindy asked, looking at Adam.
"Rocket, Groot, Mantis, the Kree spy, and the female military officer," Quill listed off, checking them off on his fingers.
Adam Warlock raised a glowing hand, his eyes shining like miniature suns. "I have recovered enough strength to pinpoint the exact coordinates of the remaining souls. We can split up and form teams now."
"Perfect," Quill said, taking charge. "The Guardians will go find Rocket, Groot, and Mantis. You Spider-Women take the Fantastic Four and go find your rubber guy. As for the Kree spy and the military lady, we'll grab them if we have time, but right now, they're low priority."
They split into two groups. Gwen, Cindy, and the awakened members of the Fantastic Four stepped through a blue rift, while Star-Lord led Drax and Gamora into a steel-gray portal to find Rocket.
Quill expected Rocket's dream to be absolute chaos. He figured they would walk into a massive, galaxy-spanning armory where Rocket was an evil, highly respected scientist, hoarding enough heavy ordnance to blow up a moon.
Instead, they stepped into a cold, sterile, dimly lit laboratory. The air smelled of antiseptic and rust.
"I had no idea Rocket's subconscious was so... depressing," Quill muttered, his blasters drawn as they moved through the shadows. "Maybe we need to pay closer attention to his mental health."
They silently took down two heavily armed guards patrolling the corridor. Quill approached the main containment area, peering through the reinforced glass of a holding cell.
He didn't find a mad scientist. He didn't find a heavily armed mercenary.
Inside a filthy, cramped metal cage, Rocket was huddled in the corner. He wasn't wearing his combat gear. He was curled up with three other heavily mutilated, cybernetically modified animals—an otter, a walrus, and a white rabbit. They were just talking, sharing stories in the dark, finding comfort in the simple, heartbreaking fact that they were together.
Rocket's perfect, ideal world wasn't a place where he was powerful. It was just a cage, as long as it meant he got to be with his friends again.