The Guardians of the Galaxy's "New Job"!

Link drew his gaze back from the vast starfield and fixed it on the little Milano. His stare seemed to carry real weight, making the battle-scarred ship groan under the strain.

Inside the cockpit, the Guardians of the Galaxy hardly dared to breathe.

Gamora sat slumped on the floor, cradling the terrifying statue formed from Proxima Midnight and her compressed warship. It gave off an eerie glow. The lingering life force of one of the Black Order felt like cold needles pricking Gamora's nerves.

Drax, the Destroyer famed for his fearlessness, gripped his twin blades, his palms slick with sweat. He had seen countless powerful beings across the universe, but never anything that so thoroughly defied reason. That had not been a battle. It had been divine punishment.

Rocket Raccoon's fur drooped, his ears hanging limp, and he looked utterly defeated. The high-tech weapons and tactical plans he took such pride in seemed like children's toys beside the miraculous power he had just witnessed.

As for Peter Quill, he had dropped his devil-may-care Star-Lord act long ago. His face was pale, and his legs trembled. He stole a glance at the "statue" in Gamora's arms, then at the godlike figure beyond the window. His throat went dry. He could not get a word out. His dance-off diplomacy now seemed like a clown trying to woo Death—stupid beyond belief.

"I am Groot..."

Only Groot watched Link with pure, childlike eyes, a trace of curiosity and confusion on his branchlike face.

Link drifted closer and stopped before the window, meeting their gazes.

"You," he said, his calm voice reaching every ear through the ship's communications system, "seem especially good at finding trouble across the universe. And... all manner of strange things."

Quill and Rocket flushed. That was no compliment. He was calling