70. Those Words Left Unspoken

Thanos did not look back.

He did not dare—afraid he would see a mocking smile, or a look of disappointment, or perhaps a calm utterly devoid of feeling. And none of those were what he hoped for.

After truly living as a mortal for a time, the former Mad Titan had realized just how grave the mistakes he had made in the past truly were. And because of that, he knew perfectly well that his daughter had every right to hate him.

Even the right to kill him.

Thanos's right hand rested on the curtain, kneading it nervously. He had wrinkled one small patch of it when Gamora's voice came from behind him.

"I've been doing pretty well, Father. I met a decent man. He's very stupid, and sometimes completely unreliable, but he loves me with everything he has."

"I also have a group of companions. We roam the universe and call ourselves the Guardians of the Galaxy. Sometimes we moonlight as adventurers and explore planets where no one lives. The pay is pretty good, and I live freely."

Listening to her voice, and that relaxed tone, the first thing that surged up in Thanos's heart was not relief or comfort.

It was an anger that came from nowhere.

—How can you not hate me at all?

The black curtain before his eyes gradually turned the color of Chaos. Thanos lowered his head, a bitter smile appearing on his face. Yes. Compared with hatred, what he found even harder to accept was, in truth, Gamora acting as if nothing had happened.

Quietly putting on a calm face, he turned around. "Is that so? Then that couldn't be bet—"

He swallowed the rest of the sentence before he could finish it. Gamora sat in the chair with a smile, two crystal-clear