Thor stood at the edge of the cliff, watching as the Soul Gem floated back into his hand. Its orange glow pulsated softly, a faint reminder of the power it held. He turned it over in his palm, his expression shifting between triumph and irritation.
"Useless thing," he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice. "I handed Thanos to you on a silver platter, and you still let him slip away."
Moments earlier, everything had been poised for victory. If the Soul Gem had successfully devoured Thanos' soul, the battle would have been over. Yet, at the critical moment, the Time Gem intervened, reversing the Soul Gem's progress and allowing Thanos to escape.
The Soul Gem remained silent, its glow dimming slightly as if sulking. For an artifact of immeasurable power, even it seemed frustrated by the outcome.
Thor shook his head, turning his attention to Gamora, who stood nearby, her expression guarded. A wry smile spread across Thor's face as he addressed her. "You know," he said, his tone light but pointed, "I just saved your life."
Gamora narrowed her eyes, suspicion flickering across her features. "What are you talking about?"
Thor gestured toward the bottom of the cliff. "The true test of the Soul Gem is to sacrifice the person you love most. And for Thanos, that person is you."
"What?!" Gamora's eyes widened in disbelief. She took a step back, shaking her head vehemently. "No. That's impossible. Thanos doesn't love anyone. He's a butcher! A monster! He's incapable of love."
Thor raised an eyebrow, letting the Soul Gem speak for itself.
"That purple-skinned brute loves you more than anyone," the gem intoned, its voice cold and detached. "If he were to sacrifice, it would be you."
Gamora froze, the words hitting her like a physical blow. For a long moment, she stared at Thor, then at the Soul Gem, her mind racing.
"So," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "he would've chosen to sacrifice me, wouldn't he?"
Thor nodded solemnly. "Yes. Thanos once fled from what he saw as destiny, and his failure cost him Titan. This time, he wouldn't run. He's willing to pay any price for his so-called dream—even if it means sacrificing you."
Gamora's face hardened, her eyes flickering with a mix of anger and sadness.
Thor continued, his voice steady. "Thanos is a paradox. He's not a pure villain, but that's what makes him so dangerous. Everything he does, every atrocity he commits, he believes it's for the greater good. That kind of conviction makes him far worse than any common tyrant."
He paused, glancing at the sky. "The true villains—the ones like yhe Grandmaster or Kingpin—they act out of greed or ambition. You can negotiate with them, manipulate them, even ally with them if needed. But Thanos? He has no desires. No selfish goals. Only his twisted ideal of balance."
Thor's voice dropped lower, his tone grim. "And that's what makes him so damn dangerous."
Gamora said nothing, her gaze distant as she absorbed Thor's words.
Far from Vormir, aboard his massive donut-shaped ship, Thanos stormed into the bridge, his face a mask of fury. He activated the controls, his movements brusque. The ship surged into a space wormhole, leaving Vormir behind.
Only when the ship emerged on the other side did Thanos allow himself a moment to breathe. He exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging.
"The great Thanos," he muttered bitterly, "reduced to running for his life. How ironic."
His hand clenched into a fist as he activated the Time Gem. A green glow enveloped his severed arm and shoulder, the magic stitching flesh and bone back together.
But something was wrong.
Thanos winced as a sharp pain radiated from the wound. The Time Gem's power faltered, the green light flickering weakly. No matter how much he focused, the injury resisted healing.
"What is this?" Thanos growled, his teeth gritted against the pain.
Unbeknownst to him, Stormbreaker's enchantments included the ability to suppress the power of Infinity Stones. Even the Time Gem, with all its might, couldn't fully counter the axe's residual magic.
The Titan's wounds would heal, but only through the natural resilience of his body—a far slower process than he was used to.
Thanos bared his teeth, his frustration mounting. He slammed a fist onto the console, causing the screen to flicker to life. He intended to chart a course back to his base, but the sight that greeted him made his blood boil.
The screen was filled with an endless stream of messages—alerts, warnings, and frantic communications from Ebony Maw.
Thanos stared at the chaos, his rage building with every passing second. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
Boom!
With a roar of fury, he punched the console, shattering it into a cascade of sparks and debris. His voice echoed through the ship, a primal howl of anger.
"How dare they?" he bellowed. "How dare they destroy Sanctuary II?!"