Mutant Multiverse

"Looks like the signal worked. Now you jus' gotta round everyone up an' regroup at the dropships. Might even come outta this one with a win, no?"

"Oh, don' worry 'bout me, I got a lil' unfinished business right here. Gotta make sure word don't get out... wouldn't want de rest'a these freaks trackin' the location. That ain't no sequel I wanna see."

"I'll be right behind you. Jus' keep everyone safe. Iris an' the others, they gonna need you down there, Hrodrich. They been through
a lot up here..."

"Like I say... Jus' one last detour an' I'll be right there wit' you guys. I got dis. Ol' Gambit just spent the last month survivin' in the jungle, ain't nothin' on this ship that can stop him now!"

After much convincing, the Cajun struck out on his own. Alarms blared throughout the dark hallways of the Skrull mothership. Explosions sounded, the ship rocking and shaking as a galactic dogfight took place outside. He'd move fast, battered trench coat reluctantly discarded as he rounded a corner. He wouldn't need it. Not where he was going.

Whilst his words to the group had been quite convincing... this was it. Not that he minded too much. He'd had a good run... and for a man like Remy LeBeau, who had spent much of his life rooted in a moral grey area, he could think of much worse ways to go out than sacrificing himself for the safety of not only the group up here with him... but for, well... everyone.

He'd evetually run into opposition, small patrol of Skrull guards. A charged card flew into the middle of the group, Remy vaulting himself toward them afterwards, releasing his staff mid-jump as he landed a solid kick to the face of one of the guards. He'd go down, closely followed by the other three. Luckily not the Super-Skrulls encountered in the 'jungle'...

Eventually, he'd reach his destination, ship now violently shaking as the action outside began to heat up. He wasn't quite so sure who exactly had received the distress call, though he was certainly thankful that someone did. He'd enter the communications room. Empty. Skrulls were a little more pre-occupied, the small patrol groups the only ones left actually paying attention to what was happening inside the ship. Either way, staff would be pushed into the door mechanism, heavy metal doors slamming closed behind him. It'd buy him some time (not that he needed it) and the Cajun would relax a little.

He hadn't seen technology like this in some time. Not that he knew how to use it, of course... but in this instance, he didn't need to. Hands would pat around his suit, eventually finding what he was looking for. Pack of cigarettes. One left... convenient. He'd pop it between his lips, fingers rubbing together against the tip and it'd ignite. He'd take a long drag, cloud of smoke exhaling as he proceeded deeper into the room.

"So what do we got here?" He'd ask out loud, hands planted on a computer terminal in the center of the room. Red light blinked on the console, small screen flashing with what appeared to be, with his limited technological knowledge, a transmitting signal. He'd let out a laugh.

"Easier than I thought... But I ain't complainin'." It was time. Hands remained flat on the console, Cajun's expression growing a little more serious as a dull, pink glow began to consume the equipment.

"Gonna take... a lil' bit... for somethin' this big..."

KSHHHHHHHHH

He'd look off to the side, small speaker brought to life as the sounds from outside suddenly became clearer. He couldn't quite work out what was being said, though the voice speaking was unmistakable. The pink glow continued to grow brighter as Remy charged up the equipment. Sure, they could stop the Skrulls... blow up the ship... but none of that would matter if the transmission was sent. Only way to know it'd been stopped was to do the job himself.

Cigarette hung from his lips. Been a while since he'd charged anything this big... Couldn't remember the last time he'd done so... not since Tyme's... The strain had certainly started taking it's toll, though hands remained firmly placed on the console. Time would pass, minutes stretching out and feeling like hours as his body began to burn... and eventually, it was time.

"Well.. looks like It's time for Gambit to do his thing..." He'd say, taking one last look out of the large domed window, staring over toward the big, blue Earth below them. "...Been a good run."

More sound through the speaker.

"AVENGERS..."

Remy scoffed, fists balling as he pulled them into the air, "An' now it's your turn, Diego!"

Fists came crashing down, colliding with the charged-up computer console, the room englufed in a bright pink burst of energy as the speaker crackled one last time.

"ASSEMBLE!!KSHHHHHHH"

Side of the ship was blown open, transmission successfully stopped.

And then, suddenly.... white.

A bright flash. Murmured voices... head spinning. Was this...?

No, this was somewhere else. His eyes opened, legs giving way as he fell back onto the hard ground.

"Where am I?" He'd think, vision slowly coming around as head spun to inspect his new surroundings.

A vast white room, hints of pink crystals merged throughout the structure. Large, floating screens surrounding a small console... silhouettes crowding around it. One of them would come closer.

A small, bald figure, smartly dressed and giving off a somewhat... suspicious vibe. He'd stop a few feet away from Remy, smirk crossing his lips as he offered out a hand to the Cajun.

"Remy LeBeau of Earth-617." He'd say, taking a pause as he helped the Cajun to his feet,

"You have become unhinged from time... Welcome to the Panoptichron. We have much to discuss!"

"Aaaaand the winner of this round is... Hrodrich Monjula! Let's give him a round of applause!"
"And let's not forget our daring challenger... Gambit! Whilst he certainly put on a show none of us will forget for a long while... It's unfortunate that we have to say goodbye but rest assured, we'll make sure we get him home safe... right after a little recuperation time in the VIP lounge!"


"That concludes our lineup for the night! We're back bright and early for the next round and trust me... it's a doozy!"


"There'll be plenty more action to come as the ferocious Torrent faces the incredible, unforgetable... Oooolegario Salvador!"



"How is this all going to end? Be sure to return tomorrow morning as we continue...
The Contest of Champions!"




Gambit had been traversing his jungle prison for a while... and no matter which direction he moved, or for how long... It didn't look as though he'd ever reach the edge. Impressive technology, for sure... though he'd see through the illusion. He was still on the ship... The contest merely a distraction for what had really been going on. Whilst he wasn't so sure exactly why they'd all been gathered here, he had his theories... and it wouldn't be too long before he'd have an explaination...

"You can come out, y'know?" he'd state as he approached a small stream, kneeling down beside it as hands cupped the water, splashing his face a few times before lifting a handful and slurping it up.

"I know you been followin' me. Been followin' me since your friends upstairs threw me down here. May sounds it an' I may look it, but Ol' Remy ain't so stupid, homme."

Rustling sounded from the large trees behind him and, eventually, a figure would push past the branches, standing a few feet away from the Cajun.

"You here to finish me off? You saw me up there, right? What I can do. An' the others, too? They really sent jus' one of you to track me down in here?" He'd seem relatively calm, eyes narrowing as he inspected the figure. If things were about to get heated... may as well make the most of it. He'd been travelling alone for the past few days... at this point, any company was better than none.

The figure approached, closing the gap between them and stepping out from the shade of the trees. Green skin. Pointed ears. That... chin.

Remy smirked, head shaking, "Ah. Now I get it."

The figure was a little less intimidating than one would think, taken aback by Remy's comment, eventually responding in a somewhat raspy tone.

"So... you are aware of our kind?" It'd ask, yellow eyes peering at the Cajun.

"Yeah. Vaguely. Been a while... Ain't ever gotten too close but that look ain't s'actly easy to forget..." Remy dug around in his pockets, retrieving a cigarette and a lighter, lighting up before pulling himself to his feet. "So, what's the plan. You follow me around a little, wait till I get tired an' then finish me off? Or you jus' waitin' for me to find my friends so you can take us all out at once?"

The figure shook it's head, stepping back a little as it seemed to grow nervous,

"Not all Skrulls are warmongers." It'd respond. "Some of us want the same things you do... I'm not here to finish you." The Skrull would pause, inspecting the cajun for a few seconds before continuing, "They cast me out, too. There were others with me... others that were against this whole plan but they... the jungle was not kind to them... and I fear the same fate may fall on your allies, too. I wish to take you to them..."

Gambit looked... confused, though his stance would relax a little as he listened to the Skrull. Sure, it could be a trap... but it'd caught his interest.

"You know where they are? An' what do you get out of all this?" He'd ask, hands burying themselves into the pockets of his trenchcoat as the Cajun took a long drag of his cigarette.

"I want your help, Gambit. The Skrull race cannot survive another war... and war is what all this will lead to should this contest serve it's purpose. I'll lead you to your friends... but I also need you to take me with you when you make your escape. If they realize I'm still alive down here..." The Skrull would say no more, Gambit nodding in understanding as the Skrulls words trailed off.

Remy took a moment to think. Then again... what other option did he have? Either way, if the Skrull was lying, there'd be a fight ahead... but if it wasn't...

He'd sigh, moving closer toward the Skrull, offering out a hand.

"Lead the way." He'd respond, "Ain't makin' any promises here but... you get me back to the others an' that's a good start. You can fill me in on your friends 'plan' on the way..." Once their handshake had completed, Remy would turn, waiting for the Skrull to set off, "An' if we're going to be buddyin' up... what do I call you?"


The Skrull began to move, stopping for a moment only to respond to Gambit's question.

"You can call me Ch'orth."



The strange, suited man stood before the Cajun for a moment, allowing him to process what he'd told him.

Eventually, he'd continue.

"You see... Your fate has been decided. You should know, you were there... And, honestly. How noble. You died a good death."

Remy's head would tilt, not quite grasping what the hell was going on and not quite ready to speak up as his expression begged for some explanation.

"It doesn't have to be that way, though. I'm offering you a second chance. Another shot."

"An' that is?"

"Mr. LeBeau... Reality is... a fragile thing. It's delicate... and your reality is only one of an infinite number of alternate realities. I'm sure you can understand how, with so many different possibilities and outcomes, something, somewhere at some time may not quite go to plan. I like to call these moments, 'hiccups'. These hiccups, if left unchecked will eventually lead to problems in other realities, eventually creating a domino effect that could be quite... unfortunate." He'd pause, allowing the Cajun some breathing space before finishing up.

"You, along with a few others who have found themselves in a similar situation to yourself have the capability to correct these hiccups. Who knows... correct enough of them and perhaps your own fate will be altered... Or, of course, If you don't feel up to the task I could simply return you back to that final moment before your death..."

Remys eyes narrowed, though eventually, he'd shrug his shoulders. Not like he had any other option at this point...

"When do we get started, homme?"