Chapter Text
The oppressive quiet of the apocalypse lair was punctured only by Gambit’s panicked breaths. Memories of his resurrection danced in his mind, haunting him like wraiths of the past—tortured by Apocalypse, reborn as a Horseman of Death. Rogue’s voice cut through his thoughts . “Sugar, you okay?” she asked, her concern palpable. But it wasn’t her voice that echoed in his ears.
“Such a fascinating mind you have, Gambit,” Death’s voice slithered through the shards of his consciousness. “So much guilt, so much chaos. It’s beautiful.”
Gambit squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the oppressive presence. “Get outta my head!” he pleaded, but Death only chuckled softly, deeply mocking.
“Why would I leave? We’re together now, after all. You can’t escape me. Not even in your thoughts.”
Desperation gripped him. “It’s just a headache! Just a headache!” He glanced at a shard of glass, his reflection twisted. Death’s voice intensified. “Look at what you’ve become. You should embrace it. You belong to me!”
“NO! I don’t!” Gambit shouted, instinctively striking at the glass. Each frantic hit echoed Death’s laughter, filling his mind until it became a relentless roar.
Rogue and the X-Men surrounded him, their concern tangible. “Gambit, hold on!” Rogue urged, but he couldn’t hear her over the din.
“Your friends can’t save you. Only I can set you free,” Death whispered seductively. All the X-men surround gambit, but their voice is blended with death until, gambit finally snapped
“SHUT UP!” Gambit bellowed, his voice breaking, releasing a surge of energy that knocked everyone backward. “I.. I didn’t mean to!” he stammered, terror etching his features. But Death’s presence loomed larger still.
Rogue grasped his arm. “Gambit, stay with us! You’re stronger than this!” she implored, but his hands were pressed tightly against his ears, desperately willing silence.
“You think they can help you? They are merely stepping stones on the path to your true destiny,” Death crooned, wrapping his words around Gambit like a snake tightening its grip.
“Stop it! I… I can fight you!” Gambit cried out between breaths, but he could only hear Death.
Jean tried to reach into his mind. “Gambit, focus on me!” she guided, but even she felt the backlash of Death's influence. “It’s too strong!” she gasped, stumbling back.
Gambit hair turned stark white. His eyes blazed red, a clear sign of surrendering control.
“You’re belong to me. Embrace it,” Death commanded, “Gambit, no!” Wolverine shouted, but it was too late. Gambit lunged at Wolverine, the glass shard glinting as he struck.
In the chaos of his mind, Gambit stood amidst a vivid red bayou, haunted by the accusations of the lost. “You got brought back to life, and we didn’t! It’s your fault!” they screamed, tormented souls swirling around him, their voices merging into a cacophonous echo of pain.
“I’m sorry!” Gambit screamed, scrambling up the jagged stacks of crates, desperate to escape. But as he neared the opening, Madelyn Pryor’s latched onto his legs.
“Don’t you dare run from your guilt!” she cried.
In the real world, Jubilee lurked behind Gambit, gripping a metal piece tightly. “Sorry, Gambit,” she murmured, and with a swift motion, struck him from behind.
As the impact jolted him, his mind shattered, and Gambit bolted upright in the medical bed, gasping. “NO!” he screamed, scaring the rest of the X-Men in the room, the remnants of Death’s voice echoing faintly in his mind, but now he was free. For now.