Real-Life Myth

Five.

Gamora's home planet Zen-Whoberi is under Thanos's massacre. Gamora and her mother are hiding. The sounds of guns and screaming are outside.

"Shhh. We'll be safe. We'll be safe," Gamora's mother promises her daughter.

An explosion goes off close by and Gamora screeches by reflex, revealing their hiding spot.
The door is smashed open and both Zehobereians scream.

Outside, it is utter chaos. Leviathans, Chitauri chariots and ring-ships fly overhead. Explosions and energy bolts from numerous sources criss-cross the panicked population, felling them randomly; smoke arises from countless fires.

"Zehobereians. . ." Ebony Maw says.

Young Gamora is being dragged by one arm through the crowds. "Mother!" She calls. "Where's my mother?!"

"Choose a side, or die."

"Mother!" She punches at the arm of the one dragging her who surprisingly drops her arm and leaves.

"One side is a revelation. The other, an honor known only to a few."

Gamora turns and finds herself facing Thanos in his full Titan armour.

"What's wrong, little one?" He asks her.

"My mother. Where is my mother?"

Thanos kneels down to Gamora so he can look her in the eyes. "What's your name?"

"Gamora."

"You're quite the fighter, Gamora. Come. Let me help you." Thanos offers his hand. She wraps her little fingers around one massive finger. He leads her to a pavilion, where he crouches to her eye level again and produces a small - for him - red-jeweled handle. Pressing the switch, razor-sharp blades pop out both ends. "Look. Pretty, isn't it? Perfectly balanced. As all things should be. Too much to one side, or the other. . ." He balances it on one finger, overbalances it purposefully and catches it. "Here. You try." Thanos hands Gamora the dagger; the handle is two child-palms' widths in length. She tries balancing it on her index finger.

"Now go in peace, and meet your Maker," Ebony states.

One half of the crowd is shot down. The survivors scream in horror. Gamora tries to turn but Thanos prevents her from seeing the massacre.

"Concentrate," he tells her. She does. "There! You've got it."

~~~

Gamora is brooding on the Guardian's ship. She activates the spring-action blades on the same dagger.

"Gamora," Quill starts, "do you know if these grenades are the 'blow off your junk' kind or the gas kind? 'Cause I was thinking I might hang a couple on my belt right here. But I don't want to-"

"I need to ask a favor," she cuts him off. His shoulders slump, sensing how serious she is.

"Yeah, sure. I'll do anything for you, you're like a sister to me."

"One way or another, the path that we're on leads to Thanos."

"Which is what the grenades are for." Gamora silences him with a look. "I'm sorry. What's the favor?"

"If things go wrong. . . If Thanos gets me. . . I want you to promise me. . . you'll kill me."

A beat.

Quill's confused. "What?"

"I know something he doesn't. If he finds out. . . The entire Universe could be at risk," she explains.

"What do you know?"

She shakes her head. "If I tell you, you'd know, too."

"If it's so important, shouldn't I?" Quill counters.