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Gabriel’s eyes opened with a grunt. This- this wasn’t the hospital. Last he’d seen, he was lying on the hard, cheap bed, covered in those tastelessly blue, paper-thin hospital garments, looking up at a cold tile ceiling, wondering if Adrien would even bother to visit him before he died. His son hadn’t bothered to see him in the last thirty years. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he never showed up.
But this wasn’t the hospital. And the dreadful weight that had seemed to push down on his ribcage, threatening to suffocate him was gone. He felt light as a feather, better than he had since he’d been a young man traipsing the globe with his wife.
He looked down at his hands, taking a brief moment to marvel at the smooth, unwrinkled skin, before looking back up to take stock of his surroundings.
Before he was able to file away more than the empty… nothingness he seemed to be in, a booming voice thundered in his ears. “Gabriel Agreste. The time has come for you to be judged.”
Gabriel stiffened, hands clenched at his sides. “Who are you,” he demanded (even his voice was years younger). “Where am I?”
“You are dead.”
Ah. That certainly was… a predicament. “I didn’t know I was that close to death,” he said stiffly. “That still doesn’t explain what I’m doing here.”
“I am Maat, kwami of death. You are here to be judged for your actions in your previous life.”
Gabriel started. In his experience, kwamis tended to have rather high-pitched voices. “You’re a kwami?”
“Yes.” A small dark blob floated up from somewhere in the nothingness, and Gabriel was startled by the instinct to sigh in relief. Voice aside, that was definitely a kwami. “Now,” the kwami said, narrowing its eyes at him. “We begin.”
Suddenly the nothingness changed, shapes taking form in the darkness. Mountains rose and a sky appeared, creating a familiar scene. Tibet. This was where he’d found the miraculous.
“Excuse me,” he interrupted. “What does this have to do with anything? I don’t recall making any morally defining choices here.”
The kwami looked at him with a flat stare. “Silence. It is not your time to speak.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t see anything to gain from angering the small god, so he shut his mouth.
A moment later, a trio of figures appeared in the mists. Gabriel recognized himself, bundled against the cold winds of tibetan mountains. Behind him was Nathalie, reading the map, and-
Emilie.
His heart clenched in his chest. She was laughing at something he’d said- a joke he’d made, if he remembered clearly. Her green eyes were scrunched in the look he remembered so well. He’d done everything he could to produce that look. It was his look.
“We’re here,” Nathalie interrupted, her flat voice gaining an edge of excitement. “The ruins of the temple should be underneath us.”
The group split apart, each member picking a swath of snow to clear away. Gabriel knew what happened next, had seen it in his dreams for years after, but he still watched in anticipation as his past self shouted. “I found something!”
The women ran towards him, tools forgotten, as he stood, brushing the snow off something in his hands. Well. Two things.
“Did… are those…”
“Miraculous,” Nathalie said, voice full of awe. “We finally found them.”
The environment around Gabriel and the kwami changed, swirling into another familiar scene. He stood in the darkness of his atelier, only the soft flutter of butterfly wings filling the quiet space. His younger self pulled a small box from his pocket, taking a deep breath before opening the lid. A purple light flashed and a small lavender kwami emerged. He looked around, eyes hopeful, before seeming to realize where he was.
“Nooroo,” the Gabriel of the past said, affixing the brooch to his shirt. “Remind me of your powers again.”
The kwami slumped, antenna drooping. “When you transform, you will have the ability to create a hero of your choosing,” he said reluctantly. “They will have whatever power you deem best and enhanced speed, strength, and dexterity, so long as they hold the object you-”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving his hand. “Whatever hero- or villain.”
The kwami’s eyes grew wide with fear. “But master! The miraculous is not meant to be abused like this!”
Past-Gabriel tutted. “Silence. I have work to do. Nooroo, dark wings rise!”
And in a swirl of butterflies and purple light, he was transformed into Hawkmoth for the first time.
The kwami next to Gabriel looked up at him, eyes narrowing. “Let us see what you did with your powers.”
The expanse around them changed once more. This time it never paused on one scene, instead cycling through an array of times and places that at first glance, Gabriel wasn’t sure why they were relevant.
That is, until one of the images caught his eye. It was… himself, standing in his atelier, an akuma fluttering down to the book he was holding out.
Oh. Oh no. This most definitely wasn’t good.
They were his akumatized victims.
Each scene that flashed by showed the same simple image: a person in distress, a moment of pain, and a butterfly flitting towards them. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of people, all shown in the moment he took advantage of them.
The images flashed by, picking up speed as they went, until Gabriel was unable to discern between pictures. He was certain that had he been in his body, he would’ve been dizzy.
And then as suddenly as they’d begun, they stopped. Gabriel found himself back in the nothingness, head reeling. He turned back to the kwami of death-
And froze.
Nooroo hovered next to the black kwami, speaking quietly with it. Gabriel’s eyes locked on the butterfly kwami. This was also most definitely not a good thing.
After a moment, the kwamis separated. Nooroo heaved a sigh, surprisingly deep for the tiny body. “Gabriel,” he said, and his voice was tinged with sadness. “I wish you’d listened. You could have been great.”
Gabriel blinked, mouth opening in shock, but before he could pull himself together enough to respond Nooroo vanished.
The remaining kwami shook his head. “Gabriel Agreste,” it said in that booming voice. “Given the opportunity to wield a miraculous, you used it for harm. You brought pain and suffering to your victims, taking advantage of the weak for your own personal gain.”
“Now hold on-” Gabriel said quickly, raising a hand, but the kwami’s words continued.
“However, these actions were born from a well of love and sorrow. You were a good man, once, and you spent much of your life atoning for your mistakes. With these things in mind, I sentence you to reincarnation.” The kwami looked at him, millenia of wisdom in its eyes, and the thousands of questions churning in Gabriel’s mind froze in their tracks. “You have the chance to try again,” it said, mouth curving up in a knowing smile. “Don’t waste it.”
And in a flash of light, Gabriel lost consciousness once more.