The Guardian
“There has to be something we can do;” She felt her throat constrict as a new wave of grief gripped her in an iron-like vice. She knew she wasn't the most level-headed at the moment, and the convergence process always made things more complicated. On one hand, she was centuries old, wise beyond measure, and had no connection to the living realm. But on the other hand, she was 29 years old, and her name was Gamora.
“We’ve never interfered before, and I'm not looking to start now,” Time replied firmly. According to him, the convergence was a process all the Stones go through at some point. If a significant connection was developed between one of the stones and an intelligent life form the Stone would adopt their appearance and personality. In this case, Time was sporting the infamous goatee of his guardian, Stephen Strange.
Soul knows she must have gone through this process before, but something feels different. She can't help but feel more alive, more emotional, and more human than ever before. Instead of feeling eternal , she feels more like Gamora . Gamora felt her heart shatter as Quill lunged at Thanos in a grief-filled rage; Gamora felt tears clawing at her eyes as her family was thrown around like rag dolls, and Gamora mourned for the Terran boy who begged his father to save him.
Gamora witnessed the moment of utter stillness with the man's horror-filled eyes, transfixed as the boy slowly slipped away. She examined the boy's face, seeing the anguish, fear, and guilt etched on it, and she refused to let this continue. It wasn't the boy's time to join her realm, and Gamora knew she had to fight for him.
She was a Guardian, after all.
"Time," she choked for a moment, "we have never been used on this scale before. We have never been forced to inflict this level of destruction. Trillions will join my realm before their time, and many won't come back. Even if you're right and the Avengers succeed in undoing this catastrophe, nothing will ever be the same. Our universe will remain in shambles, and reality will tear apart at the seams." She paused in her tirade to let every ounce of passion and rage pour into her voice. "For once in your life, do something."
His face twitched, “Soul, you’re not thinking clea-”
“I'm perfectly capable of thinking for myself. I’m sorry that I refuse to let anyone suffer because of our action,” Gamora growled, her voice laced with venom even though it only furthered Time's point. She could feel the boy's agony, and she could only imagine Groot in Peter's place. Fortunately, Groot’s passing had been swift like most other species, but the thought of him reduced to nothing but dust floating on a foreign planet filled her with inconceivable despair.
Time took a deep breath before speaking again. "Soul, if we intervene, it will set a precedent. We may feel compelled to assist in the next cataclysmic event, and who’s to say we’ll ever stop? It’s not our duty to interfere with the natural way of things." He let out a sigh that seemed weighed down by centuries of heartache.
Her head drooped as she settled closer to the boy, her hand resting gently on his head as she whispered, “But we already have. It may not have been our choice, but we did.”
Slowly, an idea came to her. It would be risky as hell, but it was all she had. There had been a truce centuries ago to never influence another of the stones without consent, but he left her no choice. Soul needed him to see things the way she did. Soul raised her head, and blue eyes met brown as she let every scrap of agony, terror, and destruction seep into his core. Gamora made sure he felt everything she did; she made sure he felt every morsel of treachery caused by their actions.
The forever stoic expression of Time cracked as he fell to his knees in unbearable anguish. She let it last a couple seconds longer before she pulled away. As he regained his composure there were only two possible outcomes for what would happen next. He would either see the light and help her, or she would be tortured for the next millennia.
The moment stretched on. She felt like she should be holding her breath, but it was never in her nature, as a Stone or as Gamora.
Time stuttered to his feet and said with all the resolve that the nine realms had to offer, “I think I have a plan.”