EPITHET || [l. loki]

iii. The Blood of Millions

──⇌•♚•⇋──

❝I hate you❞

THE MOMENT CYRA opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong. The ship was oddly silent- not that much noise was made before, but the air was thick and a metallic scent was in the air. Her eyes flew wide immediately. "Where's Nebula," she screamed, the cold air choking her as she dashed with all her might, to Gamora's chambers. She ignored the throbbing numbness of her feet as she banged on the door, an odd sense of desperation tearing apart her calmness.

"Go away," her tone was cold from the other side of the door, "You have no idea-"

"Where the hell is she?!" Cyra's heartbeat accelerated dangerously as she heard Gamora's muffled sobs. With a growl, a large lance-like weapon materialized around her arm from her blood. She slammed the weapon into the metal door, indenting it with the first hit, and breaking through with the second. The second the tough material shattered, her eyes made contact with Gamora's. And they were devoid of the usual hope and joy it contained. Only resentment- nothing else.

"It's wonderful isn't it?" The older sister breathed between a sob, "You wanted to protect us by leaving Nebula to die. And now she's fatally injured. On top of that..." her tone shifted to anger.

"What?" Words could barely come out as Cyra braced for the worse and prayed for the best, "What is it?"

"Laria's gone, Cyra."

Cyra felt her blood run cold. Then the guilt hit. "No..." she muttered, feeling a warm liquid trickle down the side of her arm bringing her back to reality, "Laria? She's done nothing wrong."

"You did this," truth stroked her face again and again as Gamora's chest convulsed with a torn, heartbreaking voice, "You did this."

"No, I-" Her voice broke, "I didn't want- I was trying to protect her."

"Can't you see? Laria didn't need your fucking protection! The person who needed it was Nebula!"

"In this universe, only the strong survive. Only the strong ever survive. There was nothing I could do except speak against our father...!"

Gamora finally looked her in the face, "They're still in the detention rooms, you know. You still have a chance to make it right..."

Cyra ran before her sister even finished the sentence, she pressed down the emerging tears in her eyes as she skidded down the halls, blindly grasping the side of the walls in her turns. 'You still have a chance to make it right,' Gamora's words echoed in her head. She had burst into the detention room with a convulsing chest and her heart pounding against her ribcage. Cyra wasted no time to catch her breath, her eyes fluttered around the dimly lit room quicker than ever before, connecting with the dark silhouette towering over the two shadows on the floor. "Laria! Ne-" She clamped a hand over her mouth before she restated her greetings, "Father, what is the meaning of this?" her voice shook frailly, almost inaudible in her panic.

"Daughter, I wasn't expecting you," Thanos turned with a loud thud, moving to allow Cyra's vision to her two sisters.

"F-father-" she choked out, "I was told by you that Laria was to speak to you peacefully this day. And that Nebula's punishment may be discussed."

"Ah-" he sighed, his face appearing woeful for only a split second, "Now that you are here, daughter, perhaps this will serve as an example."

"What-" Cyra was sure her entire bloodstream was nothing but ice now as she sensed the malice in his tone, "What example?"

"Why, you have always asked me why attachment was forbidden."

"No. God no. Father-" her mind spun numbly for any excuse, any response, "Laria is skilled- and Nebula has potential. They make perfect assets for your Order and will work wonderfully with Gamora and me."