Marvel: The Villain Chapter 378 I Have Never Failed

In a luxurious lounge, Jason sat cross-legged on a beast-hide rug, immersed in deep meditation.

His hands rested on his knees, his back was straight as a spear, and while his eyes were open, his mind was a complete void. He turned his gaze inward, monitoring every organ, feeling every breath, and noting the slight tremor of air as it entered and exited his nostrils.

Long-distance space travel was an exercise in pure, unadulterated boredom. Stuck in a confined space, eating bland, synthesized food—after less than half a month on the ship, Jason felt like his soul was rotting from apathy. Eventually, he had taken up meditation just to survive the monotony.

Aside from banter with his warriors, his only source of entertainment was engaging in flesh-to-flesh combat with Valkyrie. Both were elite combatants, evenly matched and relentless. Sparring with her—in every sense of the word—was infinitely more satisfying than dealing with any other matter.

But right now, all he wanted was to step outside the hull. He craved the sting of fresh air, the warmth of real sunlight, and the sight of a horizon that wasn’t made of steel and monitors.

The lounge door slid open. Jason didn’t move, though a smirk played on his lips. "It’s only been a few hours. Looking for another round already?"

Valkyrie, dressed in full battle regalia, flushed slightly. She let out a sharp, annoyed huff. "I’m here to inform you that we’ll be at our destination in five hours."

Jason broke his trance instantly, snapping his eyes open. "Finally! Tell the entire crew to assemble!"

Valkyrie shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed. "I wasn’t finished. We’re reaching the jump point closest to the planet Morag. After the jump, we still have two days and nights of flight before we touch down."

Jason’s excitement deflated like a punctured balloon. "Now I finally understand why they put high-value prisoners in solitary confinement. I am sick of this tin can. Why didn’t you... wait, why are you taking your clothes off?"

"I asked you a question, Valkyrie," He said, voice low and commanding. "Why are you stripping?"

She met his eyes, chin lifted in that defiant way he loved to break. "Because I’m tired of waiting two more days. And because you’re going to fuck me whether I say it or not."

Jason’s chuckle was deep, almost a growl. In one fluid motion he rose, towering over her. Before she could react, his hand shot out, fingers tangling roughly in her long hair. He yanked her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat.

"Bold words for a woman who’s about to get used like a breeding slut," He murmured against her ear. "On your knees."

Valkyrie’s breath hitched, but she obeyed, dropping gracefully yet defiantly to the floor. Jason didn’t waste time. He freed his thick, heavy cock from his loose meditation pants, already rock-hard and veined, the head glistening with precum. He slapped it once against her cheek, leaving a wet streak.

"Open."

She parted her lips. Jason immediately thrust forward, burying half his length into the wet heat of her mouth in one smooth stroke. Valkyrie gagged softly as he hit the back of her throat, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he gripped her head with both hands and started fucking her face with deep, relentless strokes.

"That’s it... choke on it," He groaned, watching her eyes water as saliva dripped down her chin and onto her heaving tits. "You came here because your cunt’s been aching for me, didn’t you? Say it."

He pulled out just enough for her to gasp a breath. "Yes... fuck, Jason... I need it."

"Good girl."

He shoved back in, deeper this time, fucking her throat until her nose pressed against his pelvis. The wet, obscene sounds of her gagging and slurping filled the lounge. When he finally pulled free, strings of thick spit connected her swollen lips to his throbbing cock.

Jason hauled her up by the hair and spun her around, bending her forcefully over the edge of the low bed. Her ass was high, legs spread, her slick, puffy pussy and tight little asshole on full display. He kicked her feet wider apart.

"Look at this greedy fucking hole," He growled, dragging two thick fingers through her drenched folds before shoving them deep inside her without warning. Valkyrie moaned loudly, pushing back against his hand. "Dripping already. You really are just a cock-hungry warrior whore when the armor comes off."

He pumped his fingers hard and fast, curling them against that sensitive spot inside her until her thighs trembled. Then he withdrew, lined up the fat head of his cock, and slammed into her cunt in a single brutal thrust.

"Fuck—!" Valkyrie cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets.

Jason gave her no time to adjust. He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and started pounding into her with savage, deep strokes. The sound of skin slapping skin was loud and rhythmic, her ass rippling with every violent impact.

"Ahhh...mnnnn....ahhhh....fuckk..." She moaned.

"You take my cock so fucking well," He snarled, one hand sliding up her back to press between her shoulder blades, pinning her down while he railed her. "This pussy belongs to me. Say it."

"It’s yours—ahh!—Jason, it’s yours!" She gasped between moans, her walls clenching around his pistoning shaft.

He reached around and slapped her clit sharply, making her jerk and cry out. Then he did it again, harder, while never slowing the brutal pace of his hips.

Jason leaned over her, teeth grazing her shoulder before he bit down possessively. "I’m going to fill this cunt until you’re leaking my cum for the next two days. And when we finally land on Morag, you’re still going to walk with my seed inside you."

He straightened, grabbed a fistful of her hair like reins, and fucked her even harder, the bed creaking dangerously beneath them. Valkyrie’s moans turned into broken, desperate screams of pleasure as he drove her toward the edge with merciless precision.

"Cum for me, Valkyrie. Cum on my cock like the obedient little fucktoy you are."

Her body obeyed instantly, pussy spasming violently around him as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Jason didn’t stop. He kept slamming into her through her climax, chasing his own release with raw, dominant force.

When he finally came, it was with a deep, guttural groan. He buried himself to the hilt and pumped thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her, flooding her womb until it overflowed and dripped down her thighs.

He stayed buried inside her for a long moment, breathing hard, before slowly pulling out. A thick stream of his seed leaked from her well-fucked pussy.

Jason smirked, giving her ass a sharp, possessive slap.

"Clean yourself up," He ordered, voice still rough with lust. "Then get back here. We’ve got hours left, and I’m nowhere near done using you."

Valkyrie, flushed, trembling, and dripping with his cum, looked back at him with a wicked, satisfied smile.

"Yes... my lord."

*

Morag was a desolate world located in the Andromeda Galaxy.

Thousands of years ago, it had hosted a thriving civilization. But as its star aged and withered, the planetary temperature plummeted, turning the environment into a hellish landscape. The inhabitants fled to other systems in search of a new life. As eras passed, Morag became a dead star shrouded in darkness.

The climate was cold and humid, plagued by frequent, massive tsunamis. Only a few specialized species of flora and fauna adapted to such misery could survive here. However, a piece of high-level intelligence had recently made this remote graveyard the focal point of several powerful factions.

The rumors spoke of an ancient sanctuary on Morag containing a Cosmic Orb of immense value. Few knew what was actually inside the Orb, but the million-unit bounty was enough to draw bounty hunters like moths to a flame.

A bird-shaped starship descended slowly through Morag’s toxic atmosphere.

The hatch hissed open, and a man of build stepped onto the wasteland. He wore tactical gear under a worn leather jacket, a nano-respirator covering his face to filter the toxins and provide oxygen. Two laser blasters were holstered at his hips.

He was a bounty hunter, and he had come prepared for the Orb. He pulled a holographic scanner from his pocket, sweeping the ground and the nearby ruins. The device used residual traces to project images of past events. Since the Orb was kept in a sanctuary, many pilgrims must have visited it in the past.

Before long, the projection highlighted the sanctuary’s path. The man followed the glowing trail and slipped through the massive gates. The interior was damp and dark, but the air was breathable. He deactivated his respirator, revealing a plain face.

He thought.

The mission was turning out to be easier than he’d expected. While the terrain was treacherous and the lighting non-existent, navigating this labyrinth was child’s play for a professional who made his living on high-stakes bounties.

Overwhelmed with self-satisfaction, he felt the urge to dance. He pulled out his headset and pressed ’Play’ on a vintage cassette player. On the tape, a handwritten label read: .

The rhythmic beat filled his ears, and Peter Quill—self-proclaimed "Star-Lord"—completely let go. He sang at the top of his lungs, twisting and sliding across the ancient floor as if he were performing for a stadium of tens of thousands of screaming fans.

In reality, it was a painful sight. His slightly doughy frame wiggled with zero grace, and every wild lyric he belted out was spectacularly off-key. It was less of a performance and more of a noise-complaint in progress.

A few Orloni—small, lizard-like dinosaurs that thrived in the dark—were startled by the awful singing and hissed as they skittered toward him. Quill didn’t even break his stride, casually kicking one of the creatures across the hall and continuing his dance toward the inner chamber.

Before long, he reached a massive stone door, thirty feet high and carved with indecipherable symbols.

Quill took off his headset and pulled out a set of high-tech lockpicks. He worked the mechanism with practiced ease, the heavy doors groaning open in seconds. He was a professional, after all.

Inside the chamber, he threw out a glowing light-sphere. The white radiance illuminated the room, and the sight nearly made him jump for joy. At the far end of the hall, an iron orb carved with intricate patterns hovered over a stone plinth, protected by a triple-layer laser grid.

One touch and he’d be incinerated.

But Quill had a tool for every job. He set down an electromagnetic attractor and dialed in the parameters.

A powerful magnetic pulse rippled out. The Cosmic Orb rattled, fighting the pull for a second before being sucked through the laser grid and snapping onto the device.

"Gotcha."

He knelt to retrieve the Orb, thinking about how easy it was to earn a million units. But as he stood up, a raspy, cold voice rang out behind him.

"Drop it!"

Quill froze. He slowly turned around to find three men aiming rifles at his chest. Two were heavily armored soldiers with respirators. The speaker, however, wore no mask. His skin was as black as coal, his face a mask of predatory malice.

"Quickly! Drop the ball!" The leader—Korath—commanded.

"Okay... okay, take it easy! Dropping it!" Quill tossed the Orb to the ground and raised his hands.

The two soldiers moved behind him, pressing their muzzles to his skull. Korath picked up the Orb, eyeing it with suspicion. "How do you know about this?"

"I don’t know anything. I’m just a junker," Quill lied, but Korath wasn’t buying it.

"You don’t look like a junker. You’re wearing Ravager gear."

"I found the clothes. In a pile of junk."

Korath roared, "Bullshit! Tell me your name!"

"Peter Quill. Seriously, man, take a breath!"

Korath waved his hand. "Take him!"

"Why?"

"Ronan has questions for you."

As Korath turned to leave, Quill made one last desperate attempt at relevance. "Hey, I have another name! If I tell you, you’ll probably shit yourself."

Korath turned back, looking at him with dead-serious intensity.

"My handle is... Star-Lord."

"..."

Korath blinked, his brow furrowing. "Who?"

"Star-Lord, man! The legendary outlaw? Seriously? Never heard of me?"

Korath gave a dismissive shrug, indicating he couldn’t care less. "Take him."

"Fine, fine. Forget I said anything." Quill sighed in defeat, then suddenly kicked his light-sphere toward the stone plinth.

The sphere exploded upon impact, releasing a blinding pulse of blue energy that incinerated the two soldiers. Korath spun around at the sound of the screams, only to be met by two laser blasters.

The twin shots sent Korath flying back. Quill holstered his guns with the flair of a Western cowboy. He looked at the fallen leader, let out a scornful snort, and scooped up the Orb.

"Ugh..."

Suddenly, Korath began to crawl back to his feet. You didn’t get to be a commander under Ronan without being tough; Quill’s shots hadn’t even left a scar. Korath snarled, hefting a massive concussion rifle.

A blast of energy tore a hole in the stone wall, letting in a gust of frigid air. Quill performed a desperate backbend, barely dodging the beam, though his weak core strength failed him and he landed flat on his ass.

Korath reloaded. Quill engaged his nano-respirator, ignited his boot-thrusters, and dove through the hole in the wall.

The second shot missed. Quill tumbled a few times before sprinting toward his ship. Korath leaped from the temple, giving chase with relentless fury.

"Shit! I knew there was no such thing as a free lunch! A million-unit job and zero danger? Yeah, right!" Quill grumbled as he ran.

His luck got worse. Five more soldiers were waiting in ambush near his ship. As they opened fire, Quill dodged a shot and thought fast. He pulled out the electromagnetic attractor, tweaked a few settings, and hurled it at their feet.

They were wearing high-tech combat suits. There was no way they weren’t packed with metal.

The powerful magnetic field yanked the five men together into a tangled ball of limbs and armor. The distraction worked. Quill engaged his thrusters, hopping and skipping into his ship, scrambling into the pilot’s seat for an emergency takeoff.

Ten seconds later, the attractor’s power died, and the soldiers broke free.

"Quickly! Shoot it down!" Korath screamed as he arrived.

The ship’s hatch was already sealed. Small arms wouldn’t touch the hull. The soldiers quickly assembled a modular heavy cannon and aimed at the ascending craft.

The ship’s engines flared with brilliant blue fire. Seeing the cannon fire, Quill yanked the stick.

The ship banked violently, and the laser bolt streaked harmlessly into the sky. Once they cleared the initial range, there was no hitting them.

"Hahahaha!" Quill laughed maniacally as he gunned the speed, easily evading the follow-up shots.

Watching the ship vanish into the clouds, Korath was livid. He backhanded the soldier responsible for the cannon, sending him sprawling. "Useless! Incompetent trash!"

The soldiers took the abuse in silence. Korath paced, his fury unabated. Retrieving the Orb was a vital mission assigned by Ronan the Accuser. If he went back empty-handed, his head was on the chopping block.

After cooling down, Korath turned to the remaining men. "Stay here. See if anyone else is hunting the Orb. If you find anything, report to me immediately."

Korath returned to the massive dreadnought known as the . He walked with trembling steps into the command chamber.

On a throne symbolizing absolute power sat a man clad in black armor, clutching a massive war-hammer: Ronan the Accuser. His skin was a deep, necrotic blue, his face smeared with black war-paint. His eyes were pits of cold emotionlessness, and the head of his hammer was still wet with fresh blood. He had clearly just finished an execution.

Korath fell to his knees, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Korath. Where is my prize?"

"Master... the Orb was stolen..."

"Who could possibly take something from you?"

"A thief calling himself Star-Lord. We’ve learned he was hired by a broker on Xandar. Aside from him, my men on Morag spotted a group of Ravagers looking for it as well..."

Ronan stood up, his presence filling the room with dread. "I made a pact with Thanos. Only if I deliver the Orb will he agree to destroy Xandar for me. Nebula, you will retrieve the Orb."

A blue-skinned cyborg stepped out of the shadows. "It would be my honor."

"It would be your failure!" A green-skinned woman stepped out simultaneously.

Nebula glared at her, the hatred in her eyes clear.

"If you fail again, you will shame our father," Gamora lectured.

"I am a daughter of Thanos as well!" Nebula spat back.

"But I know Xandar better than you," Gamora countered.

"Enough! Silence!" Ronan barked, turning to Gamora. "Gamora, you are not permitted to fail."

Gamora’s expression went stone-cold. "I have never failed."

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