Nova

Time rewound a few minutes.

"I never expected to see a Nova Corps helmet on Earth. And judging by your armor, you inherited a Centurion's equipment. That was a high-ranking leader of the Nova Corps."

Mar-Vell looked rather astonished at the young man Spider-Man had brought in, dressed in Nova gear. Then he frowned and asked Richard Rider, "Where did you pick up that helmet, young man?"

At first, Richard had listened with some interest as the pale blue-skinned alien rambled on. But when he heard that, his face fell as he replied, "I didn't pick it up, sir. One night, I was fixing my bike in the backyard, and the helmet flew over on its own."

Mar-Vell found that even harder to process. Richard, meanwhile, was curious to ask something else, but Mar-Vell's next words put him on guard. "Can you let me take a look at your helmet?"

"?"

"What you said should be true. But if it belonged to a Centurion, he would never abandon his helmet for no reason. Even within the entire Nova Corps, Centurions are the best and most outstanding. The whole Nova Corps only has five hundred members—in other words, only five Centurions."

The Nova, who had been wary and hesitant, became quite shocked upon hearing that. "Only five hundred people?"

"Yes. Because the Nova Corps' power is entirely supplied by Worldmind, Xandar's central computer. Such immense power simply cannot be mass-produced on a large scale. They only maintained a roster of five hundred people. Every Nova is an elite warrior, carefully selected from across... in Earth terms, the Andromeda Galaxy and the Milky Way, with a sense of justice. That's why I find it strange. Why would a Centurion's helmet be here?"

"And more importantly, what kind of crisis could make a