Not the hero (Carnitrix user x Marvel)

Prologue

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

-Friedrich Nietzsche

The cosmos, with its myriad stars, galaxies, and phenomena beyond our understanding, offers more than just a glimpse into the origins of our universe—it offers the promise of endless possibilities, challenges to overcome, and knowledge to uncover. As we stand gazing up at the night sky, let us remember that each small step we take into this vast unknown is a giant leap for mankind, pushing the boundaries of what it means to explore, to discover, and ultimately, to be human.

As we venture further into this uncharted expanse, the possibility of encountering extraterrestrial life looms larger, igniting our curiosity and challenging our understanding of life itself. The discovery of exoplanets within the habitable zones of distant stars, water in the form of ice on moons within our own solar system, and the complex organic molecules that form the building blocks of life across the cosmos, all point to the tantalizing possibility that we are not alone.

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In the dimly lit confines of his laboratory, Azmuth, the brilliant and enigmatic inventor, stood before his latest creation. A wicked smile crept across his lips as he gazed upon the device before him. It was a marvel of technology, a fusion of ancient knowledge and cutting-edge innovation. With a sense of satisfaction, Azmuth reached out and gently caressed the sleek surface of the device, knowing full well the power it held within.

Azmuth believed in Equivalent Exchanges, his plan was to erradicate species that either weren't beneficial [to the galaxy] or were problematic to other species, but in exchange, Azmuth sought total domination over all remaining species and their loyalty to the Galvans.

To perform such a plan he created a device that essentially creates eternal torture, the Carnitrix. Fortunately for the galaxy, Azmuth's plans were quickly discovered by a spy.

A sudden sense of alarm washed over Azmuth as the unmistakable sound of explosions and marching footsteps echoed outside his laboratory door. His heart skipped a beat as he realized who must be approaching. The Nova Corps, guardians of peace and order in the galaxy, were not known for their leniency when it came to matters of advanced technology, especially the kind used for genocide.

Frantically, Azmuth looked around his lab, searching for a way to conceal his creation or perhaps even escape undetected.

He knew what he had to do.

The device Azmuth created was carefully loaded onto a spacecraft, its sleek surface gleaming in the sunlight. With a final check of the controls, the spacecraft's engines roared to life, propelling it skyward in a blaze of fire and smoke. As it ascended into the heavens, the device disappeared from view.

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With a deafening blast, the laboratory door was torn from its hinges as the Nova Corps stormed into the room, led by the imposing figures of Vilgax and Mar-Vell. Their expressions were grim as they surveyed the scene before them.

At the center of the room, Azmuth lay lifeless on the ground, his once brilliant eyes now vacant and empty. Surrounding him were scattered pieces of equipment and the remnants of his latest invention, now rendered inert.

As the Nova Corps moved cautiously through the laboratory, they came upon a chilling sight: a note, hastily scrawled in Azmuth's handwriting. With a sense of dread, they read the ominous words: "Since I can't spread suffering across the Galaxy, someone else will. And they will stop till there is nothing but black space between stars."

The implications of Azmuth's final message sent a shiver down their spines. What dark forces had he unleashed upon the universe in his final moments?

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Y/N stirred awake, the first rays of morning light filtering through the small, single window of his cramped room. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, his gaze wandering over the familiar confines of his personal space. Despite its size, no larger than a modest bathroom yet slightly more generous than a closet, the room felt like a sanctuary to him.

His bed, a simple mattress laid on a basic frame, occupied most of the floor space, leaving just enough room for a narrow pathway to the door. Against one wall stood a small, worn dresser that bore the marks and scratches of years of use. Atop it, a few personal items were carefully arranged: a battered old clock, a couple of books with creased spines, and a photograph in a frame that seemed too large for such a small surface.

As Y/N finished dressing, his gaze fell upon the photograph of his mother resting on the dresser. It was a faded image, the colors muted with time, but the warmth in her smile still shone through. He reached out and gently traced the outline of her face, a pang of longing tugging at his heart.

"She died in childbirth," his father always said.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

Y/N emerged from his room and made his way downstairs, the creaky steps of the old lighthouse echoing beneath his feet. The familiar scent of salt and sea air greeted him as he descended, mingling with the aroma of breakfast cooking in the kitchen below.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, Tobias found himself in the cozy living area of the lighthouse. The room was bathed in soft morning light streaming in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the worn furniture and knick-knacks scattered throughout.

His younger brother and sister were already seated at the kitchen table, eagerly digging into their breakfast.

Their father, a rugged man with a kind smile, stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease.

Nearby, the housekeeper bustled about, setting the table and tidying up with efficient movements. She glanced up as Tobias entered, offering him a warm smile before returning to her tasks.

Coral Bay was a picturesque island nestled in the embrace of crystal-clear turquoise waters. Surrounded by lush greenery and fringed with golden sandy beaches, it was a paradise in every sense of the word.

The island's coastline boasted an array of stunning coral reefs, teeming with vibrant marine life that painted the underwater world in a kaleidoscope of colors. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds whispering secrets to the sky, while exotic flowers bloomed in riotous profusion, filling the air with their sweet fragrance.

Inland, the landscape was a patchwork of rolling hills and dense tropical forests, home to an abundance of wildlife. Birds of every hue flitted through the canopy, their melodic songs echoing through the trees, while monkeys swung from branch to branch in playful abandon.

Nestled among the natural beauty of Coral Bay were clusters of quaint villages, their colorful buildings hugging the shoreline and dotting the landscape like jewels in a crown. Life on the island moved at a leisurely pace, with the rhythm of the ocean and the ebb and flow of the tides shaping the daily routines of its inhabitants.

Despite its remote location, Coral Bay was not untouched by modern amenities. The island boasted a few small shops and restaurants catering to tourists.

It had a small population of 125 people.