[ Life as a child of Thanos left little room for dreams. Death, blood, brutality – it was all she ever knew in the aftermath of her home's destruction. She fought, she grew, she survived, and it wasn't long before her new father rewarded her success with knowledge. She learned more about his plans for the future, for the power to bend reality to his will.
But his stories of conquest had an unexpected consequence: they left Gamora with the curious seeds of imagination. Though she did her best not to allow herself the weakness of dreaming about impossible futures, quiet moments let her wonder, What if?
What if Thanos had never come to her planet?
What if her parents had lived to see her grow and mature?
What if she was free?
These fantasies carried Gamora through her worst trials. Through modifications, battles, and cruelty beyond measure, Gamora would let her mind wander to the realities her father promised laid just out of reach. He described the barrier between worlds like it was a shroud, waiting to be cast aside to reveal a shiny, perfect dimension, all for the taking. What novelty, the comfort of having something so close and yet, out of reach.
She dreamed of these other universes, even if they morphed as she grew older, took on more realistic shapes. She no longer fantasized about leaping to a new dimension, released of her father's shackles, but instead, she yearned only to be free.
Little did she realize how very deeply that yearning ran – soul-deep, echoing between realities.
Give me my freedom – or I will take it for myself.
And take it she did.
An opportunity fell into her lap with Ronan, and Gamora saw her opening to escape. The fact that it brought her to the Guardians of the Galaxy and dropped her, headfirst, into a new family? That she didn't anticipate. She was equally unprepared for how important the Guardians became to her, how they patched the holes in her heart that had been abandoned for so long. Rapidly, those idiots turned into the most pivotal people in her life – and she'd die to keep them safe.
Which is why Gamora takes it very seriously when they're faced with the Pure Beyond.
Too much of the cult's rhetoric reminded her of her father's aspirations. Thanos had even explored the more arcane elements of the Harbinger's plan, but as a scientist at heart, the tyrant had opted to pursue other avenues to conquering reality itself. When Rocket tries to cast doubt on the importance of accepting the mission, Gamora shuts him down promptly.
"We're doing this."
Fighting through the Pure Beyond is a trial, but this battle doesn't feel different – not at first. The Guardians push forward with haphazard but impressive vigor, controlling the tide of the fight until the very last moment—
When Peter shoves her out of the way of the Harbinger's final, desperate act. Gamora hits the ground, rolling free of the explosion, before she's almost instantly scrambling to her feet, screaming Peter's name. Terror rings in her ears, a fear gripping her throat she hasn't felt in ages, but as soon as the smoke clears, she sees the telltale shape of his shoulders. Confusion and relief sweep through her, but the comfort she feels evaporates the second she sees a familiar sword in his hand and a glimmer of silver high on his cheek.
The face that greets her is one she knows by heart, but the light in his eyes?
It feels like the wrong kind of familiar.
They have to take the new Peter with them, if only because swapping him through whatever strange dimensional portal brought him here might be how they get their own Peter back. Gamora doesn't like that necessarily, but what choice do they have?
Something about seeing Peter look so himself and yet wrong gets to Gamora. She keeps her distance, mostly observing him silently from afar – which ironically seems to be exactly what he's doing. They track each other like apex predators with an eye on their prey – or, perhaps, their equal. Watching, defending territory, defending themselves.
When the others finally disperse, Gamora is left with Peter, a hovering tension refusing to dissipate between them. She weighs the options of just not saying anything at all, but she accepts the silent invitation for what it is, dragging out her chair before plopping down opposite him.
🔫 NOW PUT THE BUNNY IN THE BOX
But his stories of conquest had an unexpected consequence: they left Gamora with the curious seeds of imagination. Though she did her best not to allow herself the weakness of dreaming about impossible futures, quiet moments let her wonder, What if?
What if Thanos had never come to her planet?
What if her parents had lived to see her grow and mature?
What if she was free?
These fantasies carried Gamora through her worst trials. Through modifications, battles, and cruelty beyond measure, Gamora would let her mind wander to the realities her father promised laid just out of reach. He described the barrier between worlds like it was a shroud, waiting to be cast aside to reveal a shiny, perfect dimension, all for the taking. What novelty, the comfort of having something so close and yet, out of reach.
She dreamed of these other universes, even if they morphed as she grew older, took on more realistic shapes. She no longer fantasized about leaping to a new dimension, released of her father's shackles, but instead, she yearned only to be free.
Little did she realize how very deeply that yearning ran – soul-deep, echoing between realities.
Give me my freedom – or I will take it for myself.
And take it she did.
An opportunity fell into her lap with Ronan, and Gamora saw her opening to escape. The fact that it brought her to the Guardians of the Galaxy and dropped her, headfirst, into a new family? That she didn't anticipate. She was equally unprepared for how important the Guardians became to her, how they patched the holes in her heart that had been abandoned for so long. Rapidly, those idiots turned into the most pivotal people in her life – and she'd die to keep them safe.
Which is why Gamora takes it very seriously when they're faced with the Pure Beyond.
Too much of the cult's rhetoric reminded her of her father's aspirations. Thanos had even explored the more arcane elements of the Harbinger's plan, but as a scientist at heart, the tyrant had opted to pursue other avenues to conquering reality itself. When Rocket tries to cast doubt on the importance of accepting the mission, Gamora shuts him down promptly.
"We're doing this."
Fighting through the Pure Beyond is a trial, but this battle doesn't feel different – not at first. The Guardians push forward with haphazard but impressive vigor, controlling the tide of the fight until the very last moment—
When Peter shoves her out of the way of the Harbinger's final, desperate act. Gamora hits the ground, rolling free of the explosion, before she's almost instantly scrambling to her feet, screaming Peter's name. Terror rings in her ears, a fear gripping her throat she hasn't felt in ages, but as soon as the smoke clears, she sees the telltale shape of his shoulders. Confusion and relief sweep through her, but the comfort she feels evaporates the second she sees a familiar sword in his hand and a glimmer of silver high on his cheek.
The face that greets her is one she knows by heart, but the light in his eyes?
It feels like the wrong kind of familiar.
They have to take the new Peter with them, if only because swapping him through whatever strange dimensional portal brought him here might be how they get their own Peter back. Gamora doesn't like that necessarily, but what choice do they have?
Something about seeing Peter look so himself and yet wrong gets to Gamora. She keeps her distance, mostly observing him silently from afar – which ironically seems to be exactly what he's doing. They track each other like apex predators with an eye on their prey – or, perhaps, their equal. Watching, defending territory, defending themselves.
When the others finally disperse, Gamora is left with Peter, a hovering tension refusing to dissipate between them. She weighs the options of just not saying anything at all, but she accepts the silent invitation for what it is, dragging out her chair before plopping down opposite him.
With an equally dry tone, ]
That can still change.