| Gabriel Cohuelo/Velocidad: Transported to Limbo and faced with zombies, Gabriel finds himself fighting his own memories at the same time.
Zombies now, indeed. It was beginning to be tough for Gabriel not to feel triggered. He'd let out a small sigh when the first one appeared, and as he tried to take stock of their makeshift battlefield, he let out a small sigh again. There was no time to be mired in memory, and yet it seemed that this place, wherever it was, kept trying to drag him into the quicksand of his subconscious. The putrid smell. Miles barking orders. It all threatened to overwhelm him.
He shook it off when he saw Amadeus move. The kid had the right idea. To his left, he saw a sagging corpse with an axe fast approaching Miles. Its eyes bulged with a kind of mania. Gabriel decided the weapon — and the energy , if he were being honest — would be useful. He channeled his powers and bull rushed toward the zombie, using his super-speed to snatch the axe from the creature's hands.
As he slid to a stop and pivoted to change directions, he looked from Miles to his undead aggressor. A shudder went down his spine. Then he hiked the axe over his shoulder and ran back toward his target.
More right than you think. He swung the axe across what looked like it would be the creature's neck, thrilled to have physics amplifying his swing. No more. A loud crunching sound accompanied his return to a normal timeline. Dead. You all—
Gabriel looked down, a little stupefied as the creature's head landed at his feet. The body continued to wriggle, and he resumed swinging. I forgot how attractive I was before the plague came. But not as strong. A plague had come, and he was stronger now. He swung and swung, and then as the creature fell, he searched for his next target...
...Their team, if one could call it that, had managed to make good work of their zombie attackers, at least as far as Gabriel could tell. Unsure if the corpse laying at his feet was dead or alive, Gabriel gave another hearty swing of the axe before surveying what he supposed was their battlefield. His eyes landed on Illyana, as he caught his breath, and he watched for a second or two in the hopes of picking up some kind of clue.
No dice, which was hardly a surprise. He'd ask again later. In the meantime, he looked up to the sky. "Hey, Wings," he called to Warren. "We good?"
Warren wiped off his rolling pin on his apron, and gave Gabriel a strange look. "You pick now to apologize for your past behaviours?" Better late than never, Warren supposed. "Well, I accept. We can be good now." Cue smile.
"Warren," Gabriel said, gripping the axe in his hand a little tighter, "make yourself useful, and flap those wings and make sure we're not about to be hit by the cast of The Walking Dead."