"So that little twig is all that's left of him?" Bruce Banner asked, his gaze fixed on the small, potted Groot. "How long until he grows back?"
"He'll be ready to plant in about a week," Rocket said with a shrug. "But it'll take at least three to five years for him to get back to his old size."
"An incredible species," Tony exclaimed. "What's the biological principle behind that? Their vitality is off the charts."
Rhodes' expression was more serious. "When he grows back," he asked, his voice gentle, "will he remember any of what happened before?"
He sensed there was more to it. If Groot could just regrow, why had Rocket been so devastated? And the skittish little sprout in the pot was nothing like the brave warrior they'd just seen on the screen.
Rocket's shoulders slumped. He sighed, the sound heavy with loss. "No. When he grows back, he's a new individual. He won't have any of the old memories. You can think of him as… Groot's son."
Captain America placed a comforting hand on the raccoon's shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss, son."
[The crash had kicked up a massive cloud of dust, leaving half the city square in ruins.]
[From the wreckage, a familiar song began to play. Gamora, Star-Lord, and the others lay scattered on the ground. Groot's sacrifice had saved them.]
[The music slowly roused them. Star-Lord groaned, his entire body aching as if he'd been run over by a truck.]
[Rocket knelt on the ground, picking up a few splinters of wood from the wreckage. "You stupid tree," he whispered sadly.]
[The surviving citizens of Xandar began to emerge, cautiously walking toward the crash site. The Broker was among them, his eyes wide with surprise as he spotted Star-Lord.]
[Gamora clutched her side, then gasped. Ronan was walking slowly out of the smoke, the Power Stone in his hammer still glowing with a breathtaking purple light.]
[At the sight of him, the citizens retreated in terror.]
[Ronan held his warhammer, stalking toward them. Through the shattered armor on his chest, his cracked, discolored skin was visible.]
[Rocket held the wooden splinters tightly, glaring at the Kree. "You killed Groot!" he roared.]
[He charged, but a flash of purple light from the Power Stone sent him flying backward.]
[Ronan looked upon the terrified crowd with contempt. "Behold! Your Guardians of the Galaxy! What have they brought you but death and destruction?"]
[The blast had thrown Rocket near the discarded Hadron Enforcer. He immediately began crawling toward it, trying to reassemble the weapon. He glanced at Drax, who understood instantly.]
[Ronan, oblivious to the adage that villains often die because they talk too much, continued his gloating monologue. "But take heart! My father and his father before him passed down this quest for vengeance! People of Xandar, the time for celebration is at hand! Forsake your weak and pitiful gods! Your savior is here! It is I!"]
[Just as Ronan raised his hammer high, roaring in triumph, a new sound reached his ears, stopping him cold.]
["O-o-h child, things are gonna get easier! O-o-h child, things'll get brighter!"]
[Star-Lord was standing before Ronan, dancing and singing. The Accuser was completely stunned by the sight. He thought, "Hey, pal, I'm in the middle of a passionate, galaxy-altering monologue, and you're doing… this?"]
[Gamora couldn't help but tilt her head, watching Star-Lord's bizarre performance, trying to figure out what he was possibly thinking.]
["Listen to these words! Someday…" Star-Lord picked up the pace of his dance, leaving Ronan utterly bewildered.]
[He couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?"]
["Dance-off, bro! Me and you!"]
[Star-Lord extended a hand toward Gamora. "Gamora!"]
[She instinctively shook her head. This was way too embarrassing.]
[Undeterred, Star-Lord pulled his hand back and kept dancing. "Subtle. Take it back."]
[Ronan's voice boomed with confusion. "What are you doing?!"]
[Star-Lord shimmied, grinning. "I'm distracting you, you big turd blossom!"]
[Ronan finally understood and immediately whirled around to look for the real threat.]
[But it was too late. Drax had the Hadron Enforcer aimed and ready.]
[Rocket connected the final wire, and the cannon fired.]
[This time, their target wasn't Ronan, but the warhammer in his hand. The blast shattered it to pieces, sending the Power Stone flying free.]
[In a flash, Star-Lord had already lunged for it. Ronan reacted at the same instant, his hand reaching for the gem.]
[But Peter was a split-second faster. He closed his hand around the Power Stone.]
["NO!" Gamora screamed in horror.]
[Carina, watching from her hiding place, vividly remembered what had happened when she touched the stone. In her eyes, Star-Lord was just a normal Terran. How could he possibly withstand its power? She could only watch as he willingly grabbed the gem, a blatant act of suicide.]
[The moment his fingers touched it, an incredible force erupted, knocking everyone back. A storm of purple energy swirled around him, emanating from the stone in his palm.]
[Star-Lord writhed on the ground, screaming in pure agony.]
[Through the pain, he somehow found the strength to get to his feet. The Power Stone continued to flood his body with energy, but unlike Carina, it didn't instantly destroy him.]
[But he clearly couldn't hold on for long. A purple glow began to emanate from his skin. Not far away, Ronan watched with a disdainful smirk. He, a Kree, could barely contain the stone's power. How could a weak mortal possibly succeed?]
[Inside the storm, Peter gradually began to adapt to the flow of energy, trying to control it, but he couldn't do it alone.]
[Just then, Gamora walked toward him, pushing against the storm of energy. She stretched out her hand to him.]
["Peter! Take my hand!"]
[He turned his head at the sound of her voice, just as the skin on his face began to disintegrate.]
[In a delirious trance, Star-Lord saw not Gamora, but his mother, lying sick in her hospital bed. Gamora's form overlapped with the memory, her voice blending with his mother's.]
["Take my hand, Peter."]
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