Discimer - All the owners have their respective rights. I only own the characters that came from my addled brain (don’t worry, I am pletely sober).

  Knowhere

  –Jack Sullivan–

  Well, this has been terribly useless. Kumpo, as he liked to call himself, was somewhat of a ral entity in the prisoner camp, which was more of a rehabilitation camp, now that he knew more about it. The Collector threw his toys that didn’t cooperate with him here and then exposed them to the terrible punishment known as…the flow of time.

  Hell, the st time Kumpo himself had seen a human was when TV was still bd white. Wasn’t that a bizarre versation he had with him, trying to expin all the advahe human race had made ever since he st visited the p?

  He had looked more and more fbbergasted the more he tried to tell him about the ges in modern society. He didn’t even tell him much about the 200s and began straight from the '90s and somehow reached all the way back to the 50s. That was how long it had been since Kumpo had been to Earth.

  He liked the musid the culture back, having a very memorable experien one of the certs, cloaked from everyo still having fun.

  After that, his species had died out due to a sustained nuclear explosion that pretty much reduced their species to only two individuals, one of which was Kumpo, who was off-world when that happened. And another old person of their species who died soon after.

  That was when he was taken by meraries who sold him to the Collector. His story after that was just as predictable as he had hoped it to be. He had been taken in as a colle but due to some odd trait of his biology, he could not be cuffed. No colr and could take hold of him.

  Oh sure, the Collector could still shock him if he so wished but the thing was that Kumpo could choose to die if and whenever he felt like it. Like a mental switch, he could literally turn his switch to OFF and off himself. The threat of losing a one of a kind piece finally vihe Collector, an immortal Elder of the Universe, to iate with Kumpo.

  Oh, he couldn’t even imagihe helplesshe Colleust have felt when he had to iate with a lowly species. Oh, how he wished he could be there at that moment.

  Anywho, Kumpo’s species, and Kumpo specifically were very social creatures, and having to live by himself in a small solitary cell was going to literally kill him so Kumpo had iated, nay, demanded a space for him where he could periodically meet new people and mih them.

  Over the course of decades, the current pce came to be. A pce for Kumpo to meet new people so that he would not kill himself. Of course, it also acted as a around Kumpo’s neck because he had made quite a few friends for himself in this small piece of hell and now the Collector also had a way of trolling Kumpo, however slightly it may be.

  Nowadays, The Pce, as Kumpo so aptly his pce, was the one pce where most Colles could e and go at random intervals where Kumpo would always be waiting for them, to talk or just sit with them, whatever they wanted.

  He had unwittingly bee the therapist of this pd he could not be more fbbergasted that someoh su appearance would somehow bee the go to therapist or friend, or listening buddy of the hundreds of se creatures that poputed this pce.

  As he looked around the bustling pce, he realised something. The Colleust have realised the value of this pd allowed Kumpo to tinue operating as he pleased. It helped that his species was very long living so Kumpo was still not yet at the peak, he would grow into his species’ peak after a dozen or so cycles, at which point he would grow older, and weaker, until he died, somewhere around the age of…2000 cycles.

  Yes, Kumpo would live on for 2000 years. As he was now, he was someone barely in his 20s, if pared to normal human lifespans. It was no wonder he was so outgoing and sociable. It was his age to do so and the Collector had tried to trap him inside a cell, of course, he would hate that.

  But he could see the value of such a pce. The Collector had many maient beings inside his prison and most of them would have grown rather suicidal or psychopathi their long tenure here so he must have allowed this to tinue once he saw the improvement ial health.

  Kumpo even had a way to tact a directly. She went to him every few days to take stock of the general situation of the inmates. Some of the older hardened colles would refuse to talk to a Kumpo so he would talk about their problems and a would try to solve them, all without any knowledge ever leaking to the Collector.

  He had the idea of getting some sort of message to a through Kumpo but he was stumped on that very step. What would be the message? And how could he make it so that she would listen to him at all, instead of doing the safe thing and not ag on anythiold her or worse, telling the Collector about it who would just stop him from going out then?

  Argh! HE hated this. He had no idea about the time period and upon asking Kumpo, he answered, rather sadly at that, that a was expressly forbidden from telling anyone inside about the happenings of the outside world.

  All Kumpo knew were small tidbits he had gathered from the people he had met. Even then, for the st 10 or so cycles, he was the only new person that Kumpo had met, further worsening matters. He was literally the test version of o these people and he himself had no idea where he was in the MCU timeline.

  Times like these made him so frustrated that his powers subsciously began ag up, making the colr zap him with the current once again. The only upside of that was that he could feel his body growing more resistant to that current, so much so that he hoped that someday he would be able to use his powers for a solid sed or two without his tration being disrupted pletely.

  Ahing he found out was about his powers. They had begun showing differences from before. For example, despite him losing his calm multiple times, his powers never grew out of trol like they do now. He would always and always maintain an exceptional amount of trol over all of his barriers. It was like his gift, he never had any issue in trolling or maintaining his barriers.

  He had problems shaping them or making plex shapes using them, or juring hundreds at the same time but his. He had been shocked two times since because of his powers and he had taken to meditating to get his emotions under trol.

  Sure, as a Master of the Mystic Arts. he was traio trol his emotions but his powers had always beey stable, allowing him plenty of leeway in that particur discipline of meditation. Now, he was forced to revisit them again.

  So, there he was, meditating in his pod, waiting for the day he would get to meet Kumpo once again. He had tried ting it but it was seemingly random or he had not figured out its pattern, one of two things. Kumpo was surprisingly likeable. His species, despite having an armour of an exoskeleton, had a very soft exterior. At Least he did have it and he was quite literally the st of his kind, so he did not know how the rest of his species were, especially since Kumpo cmped shut whenever his species was brought up.

  He would make sure to break Kumpo out of this prison the first ce he got to do so but right now, he was more ed about himself. He was ed about Thanos, about the Infinity Stones, about the situation ba Earth, and surprisingly, he was worried about Tony and the other.

  He was worried about how the situation unfolded ba Earth, after his death and the reveal of his true identity and age. Sure, he had very few digital spots even in the Modern World, and Pops and the others were very insuted from that, he had made sure of it.

  He was sure that siivan himself knew about his name and face, everybody oh must know about it as well. The backsh this time must be huge, sidering that he was a minor. His blood might be a , what with tons of it lying around the battlefield, just waiting for evil non-goveral and goveral anisations to just colled try to make evil copies of himself.

  God, he hoped that there were no evil es of his running around oh, or worse, evil children. He shuddered as the very thought made his entire being shake with terror. He was a child and the idea that there might be a child out there, bearing his DNA was frightening.

  No, he had to get out of here, and fast.

  God knows what was going on oh all this time. He was sure that healing him must have taken some time and then he had been under a bunch of times after he had woken up. After that, he spent a siderable amount of time with Kumpo. He wagered that he had lost at least a couple of months in Tivan’s obsession. MOnths that he could have spent doing something, anything else.

  On the flip side of that, he would have literally been dead had Tivan not healed him. So, as a thank you for that, he would make it quid painless. Yeah, The Collector, Tivan Taneleer was going to die. No ifs or buts about it. The man had tormehousands of se beings for his own obsession and had killed thousands more, to make sure that he got his prized colle. The amount of suffering this sick bastard had inflicted on the universe in his long life could not possibly be measured. The only reason he was not killed by the other superpowers of the gaxy robably only due to his es and money.

  He was the single richest entity in the gaxy, the rest aside beiire civilisations to reach that level of wealth.

  Knowhere would have to go as well. Kumpo had told him that the only reason he was alive was because of Celestial body matter that the Collector had harvested and used on him. So much was used on him that apparently, the Collector had to restart the mining on it, something that he had paused a couple of years (cycles) back.

  Acc to a, who narrated it to Kumpo, the C-fluid, as the collector called it, could not be used on just anyone. Only the truly strong could withstand the corrosive effects of celestial matter before their bodies could absorb the sheer energy present even in that material. Something that had been dead for who knows how long.

  In his case, it was somewhat uandable. There was a reason why humahe most patible species iire gaxy. Human DNA was literally the most malleable when it came to entering outside stimuli.

  Gamma exposure and Infinity Stone exposure should not result in superhumans with powers exceeding 99% of the universe. No, they should result in plete and utter disiion. Instead, humans somehow gained powers that put them far above civilisations that were so far ahead of human society, it beggared belief.

  “Hey, where is your mind, my quirky friend,” He was brought out of his thoughts by a light shove from someone. He slowly looked at Kumpo and shook his head. They were sitting on a seesaw that Kumpo had seen oh back during his trip and had requested oo be issioned by some of the regurs that visited him.

  Of course, the material was subtly provided by a.

  “Nothing, Kumpo. Just worried about my home, that’s all,” He muttered, mostly to himself as he rested his head on the seesaw’s handle. He was genuinely getting more and more worried as the time passed and the situation did not ge at all. He was getting nowhere and the only st times he had even seen a was when she was in the presence of the Collector, not giving him any ce of getting his message across.

  Kumpo was no help in that regard. He had given up. Yeah, the alien had given up on ever esg from this pd that’s what made him the most effective Warden of this pce, he had realised one night.

  Maybe Kumpo eaking the truth when it came to everything but the longer he stayed in his pany, the more he realised what was happening. All the aliens that regurly visited Kumpo were ohat even he knew were stroremely so. Somehow, people he could put on the same pce as the She-Hulk, in terms of raw power, were all imprisoned by the Collector.

  And Kumpo was the person they were all sent to. It could not have been a bsp;

  Today was the day he finally firmed it and hence, his depressed state on the seesaw. Kumpo was actually the reason all these strong people were staying in line, not even attempting to break out. He khat most of them would be captured but as long as they kept trying, and not dying in the process, there would e a time any of them could have been successful.

  A, as Kumpo worked his magi every single one of these strong people, he realised with a sinking feeling running through his chest, all the other aliens lost their will to try and escape from this hellhole.

  Kumpo was the final boss of this prison and not the Collector. Hell, he was sure that the bastard had some sort of empathetic powers because he could see visitors, rowdy aliens calming down simply by talking to him or by being in his presence because some of these aliens literally could not talk.

  Hell, he didn't even know what he was doing here. He had tried everything. The Collector had caught on him trying to increase his resistand he was now rewarded with something even worse. He had installed a helmet on his head, with needles pierg his brain, zapping him directly at the source whenever he tried to use his powers.

  That meant that if he wao make it out of there without obvious brain damage, he had to meditate more and more. The st thing he wanted was for his powers to grow out of trol and then suffer from brain damage.

  “Where are you going?” Kumpo’s question was clear, as was the slight tremble in his voice. He paused in his steps and then shrugged in futility.

  “To my cell, obviously,” He muttered wryly and then dragged himself back to his prison. He had al energy left for the day.

  Maybe, tomorrow could bring in a new day and with that, a bout of motivation because as he was now, he did not have the will to evehe dy fvoo that Kumpo got for him by requesting a to ge it to something patable for human tastes.

  `

  Word t - 2657

  A/N - Kinda dark but it gets better in the feters. Trust me.

  If you guys would like to support my writing or just want to read ahead of the public release, you head on to my P*treon or Ko-fi .

  I already have upto 15 extra chapters published there.