-Grim doesn't have a response to that. Doesn't know Nebula well enough.

"It doesn't have to be a sendoff. We... we could still do something..."

"We are not going to disobey Father's instructions."

"Well maybe we don't have to? Suppose we just... made up our minds together? And made a case to him, when he gets back?"

...That seems unlikely to work.

"Leave it, Gamora. I'm ready."

She's not ready.

She's terrified.

But she tries quite hard not to let that show. If she can just convince Gamora to forget about her, maybe... maybe she can...

Oh. Fuck. There she goes, trying to save her little sister one last time.

Typical.

She starts playing her flute again.

Nebula smiles, hums a few bars, and then turns away.

Grim goes back to humming, leaning a little in towards Cull.

He sits down beside her. Low reverberations shake his chest as he resumes 'singing' in his particular Cull-shaped way.

"Seven-hundred, ninety-ninety bottles..."

No further words are spoken, outside the grisly children's rhyme.

Time passes.

Eventually, the blast doors creak open and heavy footfalls sound from the hall.

Grim's head tilts back slightly, but doesn't stop humming immediately, waiting on a cue from the others.

No cue comes. Gamora keeps playing, Cull keeps rumbling and--somewhat despite her better judgement--Proxima keeps singing until their father reaches them.

"Children."

It's very good too see them like this. Not at each others' necks for once, coming together as a family.

It almost brings a smile to his face.

...

But fun is not something one ought to consider when dealing with sedition in one's ranks.

"Line up, please."

THUNK!

He had something slung over his shoulder as he entered the room. Now he shrugs it loose and, one hand keeping it from tipping over, lets its end fall to the floor beside him.

It's a massive obsidian bludgeon, its surface etched in glittering runes, its haft too thick around for a human to even properly grip. Thanos, of course, can handle it without much difficulty.

"Nebula. This is a relic of your mother's people. Can you identify it?"

She falls into line with her siblings.

"That's a Kree Bloodhammer, sir. For ritual sacrifices."

The music cuts out all at once.

Grim rises and forces the shadows away from herself, takes her place in the line.

Waits. She's impressively impassive. Her eyes might be scared, but even if she doesn't want to die, she knows there's no point trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Do you understand what you've done wrong, Nebula?"

...

"I lied to you. I kept things from you for years, endangering the security of our family. I resented you--" does that actually constitute a crime? "--in secret--" okay, yeah, that part certainly does, "--and I threw everything into chaos with a... frankly idiotic scheme? I'm sorry."

(Apart from the resentment, the list is logical, Grim can understand it. She can understand the need for harsh punishment, that'll be an object lesson to the others.)

"I'm going to kill you."

He points to the floor grating just a meter from where he's standing.

"Are you ready?"

She wants to fight and claw and scream.

Nebula takes a sidelong glance at Gamora.

She suspects that if she resists, Gamora will be right there beside her. And she knows that such an event would Not Go Well For Anyone.

She approaches her father and kneels at the indicated coordinates.

Exhales. Closes her eyes.

"I'm ready."