When it came to disaster relief, humanity stood alone in the entire universe. After all, few civilizations had physical constitutions this poor, and even fewer divided one tiny planet into hundreds of pieces—when one side was in trouble, the other eight merely watched.
Spartaxians were far stronger than humans. Whether dulled pain perception was a good thing or not, they could jump several meters high and endure corrosive liquid for a few minutes. Their ability to escape was vastly superior to that of humans who could neither carry nor lift.
Quill genuinely had experience in this area. He had participated in numerous disaster drills at school, and he had even encountered tornadoes while working at NASA. He had learned evacuation procedures just by watching.
He calmly organized the rescue efforts, which made Jason breathe a sigh of relief. He could not leave this place now, since those giants might decide to destroy the entire galaxy at any moment.
But he had overlooked one thing. The main members of any civilization, so long as they were intelligent and emotional beings, wanted their leaders to stand with them when disaster struck rather than disappear on their own.
Even if their leader was helpless and incompetent, even if he could only shout slogans or serve as a symbolic banner, that would still be a tremendous encouragement to people trapped in disaster.
And if, on the other hand, he was unwilling even to shout a slogan and did not even show his face, there was no need to describe how great the public's resentment would be.
Seeing that the time was about right, Schiller finally stepped forward. The Celestials opposite them were huddled together and trembling, each looking as though they had already been infected. Meanwhile, the Collector's symptoms were growing worse by the