Egypt

“It was a place called Wonderland,” said Sinister, addressing Cable and Prosh in his laboratory. “Ruled by a being called Adam. With the aid of some of the former students of the Massachusetts Academy, I was able to escape.”

“So that’s how you cheated death,” said Cable. “But it still doesn’t explain Apocalypse.”

“Wonderland is where all mutants go after they die, including Apocalypse. He was there, or at least his essence was. And when I escaped, he came with me,” said Sinister. “And now he’s chosen to occupy a room inside my mind…excuse me for just one moment, he’s starting to get irritating…no, I don’t care what you want to do…yes, yes, we all know the strong will survive…I won’t…fine, if it will shut you up.”

Cable and Prosh exchanged curious glances as Sinister looked at the Askani’Son once more. “I’m sorry, this is embarrassing, but Apocalypse wants me to tell you that he will grind your bones to dust.” Sinister paused and looked up as if listening to something. “I know I was being disrespectful. That was the intention.”

[Nathan…?] asked Prosh. [Do you believe what he’s saying?]

“I don’t know,” said Cable. “But we do know that Sinister’s not the only one who returned from the dead recently. So it’s very possible Apocalypse could have come back as well. But what’s disturbing me is my telepathy is useless.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are definitely two unique mental signatures coming from Sinister, but they keep intermingling so much that I can’t get a lock on either of them,” said Cable.

“There, he’s quieted down for now,” said Sinister. “I always thought his survival of the fittest talk was annoying, but it’s even worse when you have to hear him blather on about it twenty-four hours a day.” The geneticist looked to Prosh, anticipating the artificial intelligence’s thoughts. “Yes, this ordeal has driven me somewhat insane.”

“Why should we trust you?” asked Cable.

“Given our history, I wouldn’t expect you to trust me,” said Sinister. “However, we have similar goals and to show you I’m serious, a good faith payment may be in order. Follow me.”

Sinister led them to the back room of the lab where an inert Phalanx body laid on a gurney. “I traded a clone to some slavers once I detected your friend’s presence returning to Earth,” he said. “This way, the pain he causes you on Earth will be eliminated.”

“Well Prosh?” asked Cable.

[The body seems stable, I’m not detecting any traps. And he is right, given our unique predicament, it’s only a matter of time before my presence begins causing you harm once more,] said Prosh. He placed his hands on the inert body and his eyes began to glow brightly before they dimmed once more, his consciousness uploading into the new home. [This may take a while.]

Cable’s left eye began glowing. “Wait…we’re not alone.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sinister.

“I’m picking up a telepathic blind spot. Keep an eye on Prosh, don’t move until the process is complete.”

Before Cable could act, some sort of cat-like creature leapt out at him with a growl, slashing at his chest. Cable threw up a psionic shield as soon as he could, preventing most of the damage. The creature called Anais looked at Cable with a grin before running for the exit.

The Psimitar flew into Cable’s hand and extended as he gave chase. Once he exited the small house the lab was built inside, he saw Anais running towards the crowd, jumping on the wall of one of the buildings. She bound back and forth between the buildings lining the street, soaring over the heads of the surprised Egyptians.

Cable used his telekinesis to raise his body above the ground. He flew after her, but her speed was great, able to keep her several paces ahead. He raised the Psimitar and fired, the psionic blast striking her in the back and knocking her to the ground.

He lowered down, hovering right above her. Anais leapt again with a snarl, slashing at Cable’s shield. With each strike, her body seemed to grow larger, her strength enhancing. He held the stave of the Psimitar up as she tried to bite off his face, shoving it between her jaw.

Twisting to the side, he flung her off and fired another psionic blast, but Anais was ready for that, ducking it and quickly climbing up the side of a building. As soon as she reached the roof, Cable had hovered there as well, waiting. She jumped towards him but fell below his feet, skidding on the ground. Once she reached the roof’s edge, she sprung up again, soaring across the alley to the next building.

Cable gave chase, returning his Psimitar and drawing the side-arms, firing them in quick succession to try and get a bead on her. “Too damn fast…” he muttered. Anais gave him one last look and grinned before she jumped off the building. Cable looked over the edge of the roof and saw nothing. Just a crowd of people. Somehow, she was blocked from his telepathy and if she was a shapeshifter, as it seemed during their battle, then she could have easily escaped now.

When Cable returned to the lab, Prosh had finished the upload and had begun experimenting with the capabilities of his new body, growing accustomed to it as quickly as he could. Sinister rose from his seat once Cable entered.

“Did you catch her?”

“No,” said Cable. “But given the tattoos on her body that bore a similarity to Decibel, I’d say she’s part of the Clan Akkaba. And now, they know where we are but more importantly, they know where Apocalypse is.”

“So we must find a new location,” said Sinister. “Especially now that the Clan Akkaba knows what our plan is.”

“And what is our plan?” asked Cable. “You haven’t been very forthcoming on that front.”

“The destruction of Apocalypse, of course,” said Sinister. “However, to do so we need a controlled atmosphere as well as a body Apocalypse is willing to inhabit. Your telepathy will help us force him into this new host, because Apocalypse will not go willingly.”

“Why waste time? Let’s destroy him before he can get into the new body,” said Cable.

“We need him to be anchored first. But if we try it now, you may end up destroying me as well.”

“I don’t see the downside,” said Cable.

“I’ve died before, Nathan. I have no intention of doing it again,” said Sinister. “Especially not after all the trouble I went through to escape Wonderland.”

[I fail to see how your consent is necessary,] said Prosh.

“Then perhaps you aren’t thinking clearly,” said Sinister. “Apocalypse is more than just a mutant—he’s the equivalent of a virus. If you kill me, there’s a good chance he could escape somewhere else. I know how we can end him for good but to do that, I need your help. And without me, you have no way of guaranteeing his destruction.”

“Fine,” said Cable. “Where’s this controlled atmosphere you mentioned?”

“For that, we must consult an old colleague of mine,” said Sinister. “A man by the name of Quietus.”

APOCALYPSE TOMORROW

Part II

By Hunter Lambright and Dino Pollard

Once she entered the chamber, Anais bowed down before the leader of the Clan Akkaba, a man who clad himself in golden armor and sat on a throne of skulls. She knelt on one knee, the other propped up with her arm draped over it as she lowered her head.

“Forgive me, Lord Armageddon,” she began, “but I was noticed. Yet I have discovered that the Askani’Son and the traitorous son Essex are indeed preparing to remove our Dark Lord from this realm.”

Armageddon rose from the throne and laid a hand on Anais’ shoulder. “Rise, my knight. You and Decibel shall redeem yourselves by leading a militia after the one called Cable. We must destroy him before he can destroy my father. And then, En Sabah Nur shall rise again, the Apocalypse shall come.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” said Anais as she slowly rose to her feet. She placed her palms together and bowed one final time before she left the chamber.

Siberia

A blue energy signature appeared in the midst of an uninhabited part of Russia, slowly forming into three distinct forms—Cable, Prosh and Sinister. Nathaniel Essex led the way, gesturing for Cable and Prosh to follow him. After a few paces, he pointed to a building nearby.

“There. Quietus has been using that abandoned gulag as his base of operations for some time,” he said. “However, be careful. He is not a man who takes kindly to interruptions. We are sure to encounter some of his defenses.”

[What sort of defenses does Quietus employ?] asked Prosh.

Cable found himself flung forward after being kicked in the back. Prosh turned in surprise but Sinister simply crossed his arms in bored indifference. “That would be one such defense.”

The attacker flipped upright. He was lanky, with obsidian skin and glowing red eyes, as well as long, white hair. Cable rose to his feet, holding his hand out as the Psimitar detached itself from his belt and extended to its length before landing in his palm.

“Okay, I am now officially fed up with sucker-punches,” he said.

The obsidian-skinned man sidestepped a thrust from the Psimitar and opened his mouth. A thick, green smog emerged from his throat and Cable began coughing relentlessly, feeling the need to vomit building in his stomach. He was able to suppress it enough, but the man wrapped his hands around the Psimitar’s stave. Cable grappled with him, keeping his grip on the weapon. He put his weight towards the blunt end, swinging it towards his attacker and striking him in the face. That brief distraction allowed Cable to wrench it free and fire a blast from the pointed end that threw the attacker back.

As Cable approached, the man leapt up again, unleashing another form of gas. This one was more potent than the first and Cable fell to his knees, this time not able to keep it down and began gagging up mucous. The attacker stood over him, the whites of his teeth contrasting against his dark skin as he smiled cruelly.

“Underhand, that will be quite enough.”

A man stood near the entrance to the former gulag. He possessed purple skin, a large nose and long, curly black hair that seemed as if it hadn’t been washed in years. Underhand gave one final look at Cable and then walked towards his master. Quietus came closer, drinking from a flask and eyeing Sinister curiously.

“Essex,” he said. “Heard you died.”

“I did,” said Sinister.

“Hard to keep a good scientist down,” said Quietus. “Although damned if I know what that has to do with you.”

“Same could be said of yourself,” said Sinister.

Quietus looked down at Cable, who was regaining his bearings from Underhand’s attack. “Oh enough with the bloody gagging. Be a man for fuck’s sake, it was just a little poison gas.”

Cable pulled himself to his feet with some aid from Prosh. The pair approached Sinister, Quietus and Underhand. Quietus looked between the three of them. “So what do I owe this intrusion?”

“I’ll explain inside,” said Sinister. “I have need of one of your…creations.”

“Hmph, inside then, this better be worth my time,” said Quietus. He and Underhand led the way back to the gulag. Before they followed, Cable stepped up to Sinister.

“What sort of creation are you talking about?” he asked.

“Quietus utilizes perversions of cloning,” said Sinister. “And though I find them unethical, those perversions are unfortunately necessary in this instance.”

“You find them unethical?” asked Cable, his voice carrying a hint of anger. “And you waited until now to tell me this?”

“You wouldn’t have come otherwise.” Sinister began walking forward after Quietus and Underhand. “Do not take the moral high ground with me, Nathan. We both know you’d do whatever it takes to stop Apocalypse.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” said Cable.

[Nathan, a moment,] said Prosh. [Do you believe this course of action is wise? First allying ourselves with Sinister and now this…madman?]

“We don’t have a choice,” said Cable. “Stab his eyes…the bastard’s right—we need to do this to stop Apocalypse.”

Inside the laboratory, Quietus walked over to a sink, farting as he moved and began scrubbing his hands under the water. “I’ve got what you need. But I will require some form of payment.”

“What sort of payment?” asked Sinister.

“Essex, you’ve been a right bastard to me for decades and now you need my help,” said Quietus. “And though that gives me a tingly feeling in my nether regions, it’s not payment enough, I’m afraid. Not unless you’re willing to throw in a session with one of those redheaded clones you’re fond of.”

“That genetic material has been lost,” said Sinister.

“Pity,” said Quietus. “Then how about we go with an IOU for now? And I promise you, I’ll collect some day.” He looked at Cable. “What about you, Mr. Chosen One? Doesthis arrangement compromise your integrity?”

“Do whatever you want with Sinister,” said Cable. “I can only hope it’s a pound of flesh.”

“Hah, I like him, he’s got stones the size of my tumor,” said Quietus. He pointed to Prosh. “You, 3P0. Get me a bottle off the shelf there.”

Prosh looked up at the shelf behind him. [What is in these? Some sort of nanomachines you can use in your experiment?]

“It’s gin, you stupid git,” said Quietus. “Now hand me a bottle already.”

Prosh removed a bottle from the shelf and Quietus took it from him. He bit the top off and spat it into the sink. Bringing the bottle to his lips, the madman chugged the entire contents within a matter of seconds before tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder.

KRSH

“Damn stuff doesn’t even burn anymore, you believe that?” he asked.

“Perhaps we should advance to the next phase of this experiment,” said Sinister. “Is your subject prepared?”

“Yes, yes, just follow me,” said Quietus. “He’s a thing of beauty, I promise you that much.”

He led them into the next room where a curtain was drawn. Quietus pulled it to the side, revealing a tube with a being floating in the fluid there. “Perhaps the perfect host for Apocalypse’s essence, wouldn’t you agree?”

[Nathan, do you see…?]

“I do…” muttered Cable. “By the Phoenix…just what the hell have you done here, Quietus?”

Inside the tube was a being with gray skin and one large eye that glowed red. His lips were a dark blue and he floated motionless in the nutrient bath.

“My greatest clone yet,” said Quietus. “I call him Cyclopalypse. And the only thing it needs is a mind that will call it home.”