[ Nebula's attention is somewhat difficult to read if only because there's little way to tell where she is looking - but her attention remains just half on Cyrus. The speech really isn't for her. It's not for the people grumbling either, though she casts them half a glare as if to say: Why be here if you're discontent? ]

[ The man's suggestion earns a grunt that's more of a snort. She exhales and adds: ]

Got it half right.

[ Only half. ] They've made clear to us we're not the first ones to be dragged into their war. We fail, someone else probably will be. No one's promised an immediate resolution - only that there's a chance to return it.

[ From her tone, the chance is all that she needs to determine that she will. But then. Her circumstances are different than most Shardbearers she met. The possibility or impossibility of worlds and civilizations being destroyed quickly isn't unknown to her. And just like that possibility is, neither is finding a way to return it. All of it in as little as a snap, right the right power. ]

The other side promises to make you a god of a new world. They think they can really make something better.

[ She doubts it. She's met some of them. She's known her entire life what madness comes from thinking you can perfect and better the universe. ]