Dust filled the sky.
Ronan and Groot's fall had caused quite a commotion.
Quill's Walkman continued playing songs with unwavering dedication.
Adding a faint sense of surviving a disaster to the dust-choked ground.
Amid the dust, Drax was covered in wounds, his hand twitching unconsciously.
Gamora struggled to prop herself up and let out a muffled groan.
Then she collapsed back onto the ground, dizzy and disoriented.
Quill's face was streaked with blood from shattered branches. Clutching his churning abdomen, he groaned continuously.
Rocket piloted his fighter rapidly closer and jumped down before it had even come to a complete stop.
He staggered toward the scattered, remarkably evenly shattered branches.
He knew that those branches strewn across the ground were his good brother, Groot.
And now that Groot had been smashed into such a state, there was clearly no way to piece him back into any recognizable shape...
Most likely...
"Sniff..."
His furry paws held several branches. With his ears drooping, he looked utterly grief-stricken.
"What a stupid tree..."
At that moment, the citizens of Xandar gradually gathered around.
They crawled out of the ruins with difficulty, looking at the several extremely battered warriors before them as they whispered among themselves.
"They don't seem to be wearing Corps uniforms..."
"That's right, they aren't with the Corps..."
"Were they the ones helping us fight?"
"I think so."
"That was such a heavy fall! I hope they're okay..."
Just as Quill and Gamora struggled to get up while Rocket sank into grief over losing his comrade.
A black figure emerged from the flames.
His weapon emitted an eerie purple glow.
Ronan.
How could such a wonderful moment lack an audience?
Ronan briefly adjusted himself, then flew from the distant valley straight to the most crowded area.
It was precisely where Quill