Purgatory
Ronan breathed in the power of the stone, watched in horrified fascination as the little Terran's hand wrapped around the purple gem. He didn't move though; why should he? The mortal that held the stone would be destroyed and when it fell to the ground, so too would Xandar. Even if it took his own life, at least he would know that vengeance was finally achieved for his father and for all the Kree who lost their lives to the pink Xandarians.
But then something else happened, something unexpected. The Terran's friends took hold of him and together, they all seemed to control the destructive power of the infinity stone. To Ronan's horror the group he'd called Guardians of the Galaxy were in fact guarding and protecting the worthless planet he'd tried so desperately to destroy.
His own demise was assured and he now knew that it was all for nothing. Every sacrifice he made, every pleasure he denied himself, every moment's peace passed over in favor of his family and his species' honor. He'd even brushed aside the discovery of his soulmate for this one chance. There would be no justice, there would be no peace in his after life!
How? How could he have failed so spectacularly? And to the scum before him? That was by far the cruelest insult. An animal, a tree, a Zen-Whoberis, some lowly alien not even worthy of acknowledgement, and a weak Terran? Never mind that a bunch of Ravagers led by a Centuarian criminal had bested his own fleet. His moments before death were humiliating indeed.
Had any other Accuser been so supremely laid low?
Lifting his chin defiantly, he dared them to strike him down. It would not be said that Ronan the Accuser flinched and cowered in the face of death. It was bad enough that he allowed himself to be distracted by a dancing fool; his pride was mortally wounded but he'd salvage his remaining dignity and stand tall. Ronan the Accuser would be seen embracing his death.
Still, he had to know and so he asked. He asked how the mortal held the stone and the Terran's infantile response was exactly what he would have expected of a dimwitted, uncouth ravager. The last words he'd ever hear were delivered by a smirking brat in the form of a childish insult that didn't even attempt to answer his question. If only he'd had time to teach that Terran brat some manners...
Pain engulfed him and his silence was stolen by an agonized roar and then...darkness.
They surrounded him, but they would regret it. He was built for war, built for death, for destruction. He was an Accuser, a role no less important than that of the Emperor himself. These beings were none of them worthy of seeing him punished let alone felled in battle. He didn't have his weapon, but it wasn't necessary against this lot.
He lashed out, he fought, he warred and he defeated any who approached him. He felt their souls fizzle in some cases, snap in others. It mattered not to him, they were destroyed and incapable of attempting to harm him.
It wasn't clear whether or not he was dead. He felt strong, he felt powerful, and yet he was trapped here. Here. Where exactly was here? It was a question that nettled him over and over until he noticed something rather peculiar about the men, women and creatures that he faced day after day...
Had no one worthy ever died by the stone after holding it? Were these fools and miscreants of disrepute the only ones to ever achieve the ultimate goal of holding the Infinity Stone? Was this truly the company he deserved, the company he was apparently destined to rot amongst?
Once more the humiliation of his defeat at the hands of The Guardians of the Galaxy burned through him anew.His bright, lavender eyes narrowed on the massive creature that made its approach. He had wondered when this one would come to test its mettle against him. Taking a deep breath, he let his jaw tighten, raising his chin as he sneered contemptuously. This thing, no matter how large, would never be a match for him.
It happened suddenly between fights. One moment he was searching out the next…soul? Spirit? The next he was seeing stars. Literally. It was as if he were standing on deck of a space ship. He could make something out in the distance, a capsule of some type, and then he realized he was in fact seeing space.
A massive fleet of ships came into view and Ronan recognized them as Ravagers. Several clans in fact. He wondered if he was about to be attacked when he saw several bursts of color flash before him. Ahh…not an attack. A funeral. But for who?
What was this? What was he seeing? And hearing? What was this sensation? Where his markings would have been he felt a wet trail. He brought his hand up and touched his cheek. To his amazement, he actually felt flesh. Real flesh. Not the subtle electric charge of touching another’s soul as he felt when he fought the other prisoners of the stone.
He looked at his hand and it was pink, not Xandarian pink, but Terran pink. He stared out at the vast expanse of space before him and watched as the Ravager funeral took place. In that instant he both felt his own phantom body and that of the man he was currently merged with. Two simultaneous sensations of two heart beats pounded within his consciousness. One was strong, steady and most likely his own; the other was quick, labored, and dare he think it, pained?
Gamora placed her hand on his shoulder and he could feel it both through the body he seemed to be possessing and upon his own spirit. He tried to shrug it off, but found that he slipped free of all sensations from the Terran. What a strange development this was? What could this mean? He tried to reconnect with the feeling, but found he was unable to. He was back within his prison.
He’d heard of a lot of strange things occurring between those who were bonded, but never anything like this. Then again, it wasn’t as if anyone could possibly know what had happened to those whose bodies had been destroyed by the infinity stone, either. Was this because of whatever had allowed Peter Quill to hold the stone for so long or because of their connection?
Was he dead and this was his own personal Hell? Or was he simply without a body after the stone had been ordered to destroy it? What had become of him and did this happen to any other? He wanted answers and he wanted them now, but he was unable to reach back into the mind of…of that filthy Terran!
His vision flickered once more and this time he was face to face with a Xandarian in a white room. He reached forward to rip his enemy's beating heart from his chest, but Ronan's hand went straight through and he felt neither an electric charge nor the impact of flesh on flesh. The Kree watched with only a small amount of satisfaction as the Xandarian before him froze, orange eyes focused on him intently before they rolled back and his body fell to the floor with a loud thud.
Perhaps this could work to his advantage…