CHEYENNE, MUTANT, VALKYRIE

Part I

By George Cameron

I’d always found the Danger Room to be therapeutic. Although Jean, Hank, and Scott had always told me that the Danger Room was for training and not to work out my personal problems, I had to admit that it served that function more than adequately. And with everything that had gone down here recently, I’d been needing the release more than I knew.

Thanks to the holographic imaging systems, operating on a technological level that I couldn’t begin to explain, I stood in the middle of an expansive, rolling field. Stark mountains stood along the horizon in every direction, and the sky was an overcast grey, rumbling angrily. A chill wind blew across the plains, reminding me to stay in the here and now as I prepared myself for what was coming.

I heard them coming over the howl of the wind. I heard the sounds of their weapons being drawn, their armor clanking metallically. I could even tell that there were four of them. A hunting party.

Don’t forget your training, I told myself as I reached deep into the recesses of my mind. The probing aspect of my mutation isn’t a conscious thing; instead, my subconscious seeks out concepts, homing in on them without my knowledge. And during this process, I knew what I was seeking. I could practically see it in my hands. I could feel the firmness of the wooden shaft, the weight of the weapon as I checked the balance. And just like that, it was there. Made real by my own psionic energies. My spirit lance.

I’d always had a unique mutant power, one that had caused me no end of grief when I was a child. Basically, I could take a person’s deepest, most irrational fear… and I could show it to them, and to everyone around them, as an illusion. I couldn’t control it. I just did it. To my family. To my friends. To everyone around me. And because of that, I’d locked myself in an impenetrable fortress of anger and isolation, refusing to come out.

But then, Charles Xavier came into my life. A close friend of my father’s when they served in the armed forces together, my grandfather sent for him because he had known, as well as my parents had known and Xavier himself had known, that I required guidance if I was ever going to live anything resembling a normal life. You have extraordinary gifts, but they can harm you as easily as others, Xavier had said to me. Some of his first words to me. I had never forgotten them.

Bringing the fears of others to life turned out to be just one aspect of my mutation, as I learned during my days as one of the New Mutants. I could also create images of a person’s greatest desire, as well… and over time, I learned how to create images based on any emotional state that I wanted. The exact mechanics of my mutant power have changed and evolved over the last several years, some of which were good and some of which were bad. But I did learn to stop seeing my power as a curse. Being defeatist and selfish just wasn’t my style. As a very wise person once told me, the greatest enemy that a person would ever face is despair, and to triumph over despair is to triumph over everything.

I couldn’t always create real objects with the power of my mind. But the potential had always been there. I’d learned that very early on as a student at the Xavier Institute For Higher Learning. And after the other New Mutants and I went charging off to rescue Magma, another former teammate, from the agents of the villainous geneticist known as the High Evolutionary, I was involved in an accident that had increased my mutant powers… evolved them to the next stage.

It wasn’t something that I had a great deal of control over. I could only create one ‘solid’ illusion at a time, which would disappear once I had created another. It was an aspect of my power that I didn’t often use, because it was still dangerous and I couldn’t afford to place myself or anyone else in that sort of danger. But through a lot of training and mental discipline, I had learned how to “wish” up my spirit lance… something safe and good, and something that wouldn’t bring harm to anyone without my consent.

Today, however, I would be bringing a great deal of harm to these men.

The warriors approached, their swords and maces drawn and intense, leering scowls etched across their faces. I could see them underestimating me in their expressions, their stances… they weren’t taking me seriously. Had I chosen to don more… formal… attire, they’d know exactly who I was, and would be running in mortal terror.

“Verily, thou dost not believe that thou art a match for us, lass,” the first warrior stated. Asgardians. So damn full of themselves.

I lunged forward faster than I think any of them expected, breaking into a run and holding my spirit lance up as I charged forward. Suddenly, I jabbed the head of the spear into the ground, and vaulted myself into the air, my foot connecting solidly with the first warrior’s jaw. As I managed to land on my feet, the warrior had already hit the ground, down for the count.

“Thou wilt pay for that, woman!” another had shouted, and the three of them charged forward, their weapons glinting ominously in the bleak light of the winter’s day.

“Not today, boys,” I replied as I readied my spirit lance again, holding it defensively as I quickly but carefully weighed my options. This wasn’t going to be easy. Then again, if it were easy, I wouldn’t be doing it.

The first of the three remaining warriors closed the distance between us, and brought his sword slicing down toward me with remarkable speed. I caught the blade on the shaft of my spirit lance, and shoved the weapon up and back away from me. The weight of the sword, coupled with the momentum I had just granted it, caused the warrior to momentarily lose his footing… and I didn’t waste any time. I pushed back against his sword as hard and as fast as I could, and then drew the spirit lance back tightly. Not even a second later, I snapped the lance back outward, clipping the warrior squarely in the face.

I heard the warrior’s grunt of pain, and I saw the blood that had started to come from his nostrils, and I knew that I had very likely broken his nose. Aw, shucks. He dropped his weapon, and I took a step back, spinning my body once around very rapidly as I delivered a solid roundhouse kick to his temple. He, too, fell to the ground, unconscious.

“Another one bites the dust,” I quipped as I turned my attention to the other two warriors, who stood perhaps a dozen meters away. They were going to try to take me down piecemeal, instead of attacking me as a group. Even after taking down half of them, they were still seeing me as something less than a warrior. And that just pissed me off.

One of the warriors raised his mace above and behind him menacingly, and I knew that he was going to throw it before he did. The mace flew from his hands and whooshed audibly through the air toward me. I stepped to the side quickly, but I could feel the disturbance of the air as it passed mere inches from my head. I hate being right sometimes.

With my spear discarded for the moment, I would need a new weapon. Something that would strike down the warriors from a distance. This was a no-brainer. I let my arms and hands fall into a very familiar position: that of holding a well-strung bow with an arrow already notched. The warriors were probably looking at me like I was crazy, because there was actually no bow in my hands, but I didn’t notice because I had momentarily closed my eyes. I reached into my subconscious, looking not for any specific emotional-laden images but the raw emotion itself. I sought out an emotional state that I knew would serve well in this case. I sought out hopelessness.

I remembered how I felt when Reignfire, whom I had believed to be my old and dear friend Roberto DaCosta, discovered that I had betrayed him in order to save him. I remembered how he came after me, striking down my teammates and even my beloved Darkwind, reducing the once-beautiful immortal Asgardian stallion to ashes before me. I remembered how completely and utterly alone I felt, as I knew that I was going to die. I sought out that feeling of hopelessness, and I seized upon it. And in mere moments, a bow of pure psionic energy had formed in my hands, with an arrow of those same energies already notched and ready as I held the bow’s “string” drawn.

I opened my eyes, and took careful aim at the warrior who had attacked me. Before he could even begin to react, I fired off a psychic arrow at him, and smiled as it struck true. As the arrow ‘pierced’ his chest, psychic energies crackled all around his body as the purest, most intense form of hopelessness flooded his mind. The arrow’s energies would disrupt the synapses of his nervous system, causing him a great deal of physical pain as well as causing him to lose control of his motor functions. But the hopelessness, that would seal his fate. I could see it in his eyes even from this distance, and I could feel it empathically. It radiated from him like heat. The hardened Asgardian warrior, who would and probably could snap my neck if he had gotten his hands on me, suddenly dropped his other weapon to the ground and sank to his knees. He brought his hands up to cover his face even as he bent forward, assuming what I believe was called “the fetal position” as he began to cry uncontrollably. Massive sobs wracked his muscular, armored body as he keeled over on his side, curling in on himself as tightly as he could manage.

The last remaining warrior watched his comrade sink to the ground, and glowering angrily at me. He had blood in his eyes as he charged me. But I wasn’t about to let him close the distance between us. It took something less than moment to manifest and loose another psychic arrow, one aimed quickly at his chest. The arrow struck, and the warrior fell forward like a baseball player sliding for home. It was actually kind of funny. The unconscious Asgardian slid to a halt at my feet, and I went so far as to prop a foot on his helmet and strike a mock-triumphant pose. Yeah, I’m cool.

Just then, the warriors and their weapons dissolved into nothingness, and my oh-so-cool pose was disrupted, leaving me to quickly regain my balance and swing around to face where I knew the Danger Room control room to be. “Excuse me, but my hour isn’t up yet.”

Just then, the doors of the Danger Room parted, allowing light to flood into my bleak scenario. The doors themselves couldn’t actually be seen; it was as if reality itself had opened a pair of double doors. And through that door stepped a rather… angelic figure, for lack of a better term. Warren Worthington the Third. Archangel.

Warren and I had become close, in the aftermath of Apocalypse’s final defeat. He and I shared a bond that could never be broken. We had both experienced the complete subjugation of our souls at the hands of the High Lord himself. Warren, who had given in to his rage and despair over the loss of his wings and been seduced by Apocalypse into becoming his Horseman of Death.

As for myself… well, I had merely been handed over to Apocalypse by the Damocles Foundation and mentally conditioned to become the leader of his Dark Riders. After the X-Men had freed me from Apocalypse’s control and offered me a place with them, Warren had taken it upon himself to see me through my recovery.

And it wasn’t an easy recovery, either. To be… controlled, the way Apocalypse controlled my words, my actions, my thoughts, it… sickened me. I had been all prepared to call down a Valkyrie curse upon the head of En Sabah Nur, until I had learned during my recovery that he had perished in the final conflict. And all the while, during the time when I so desperately needed to heal my psychic wounds, Warren was there.

He cut a very handsome figure, moreso than most men I’ve known. Today he wore a tailored black suit jacket, white collared dress shirt, tailored black pants, black tie, and black dress shoes, looking ever so much like the consummate businessman and politico. And with recent events unfolding the way that they have, that is indeed what Warren has chosen to become: a politician.

But watching him stand there, the light of the world outside the Danger Room shining brightly from behind him, made him seem… and I’m sorry, but I can’t think of a better word for it… beautiful.

He smiled as he gazed at me, and he stepped closer to me. I didn’t move to join him, though. I placed my hands on my hips, feeling the sting of my hair as the cold Asgardian winds whipped it across my face.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Worthington,” I said.

“Why not?” I think he was surprised at my use of his last name. We were definitely past the formalities stage.

“Well, I thought you’d be too busy with your other projects. You know, the X-Corporation, your political ambitions. Who’d have thought you would be able to pencil in one little Cheyenne?” That had come out a little more harshly than I would have liked, but I never was one to apologize for anything.

“Dani,” he said as he closed the gap between us, running his hand through my hair to remove it from my face. Just his touch raised goosebumps on my skin… or maybe it was the wind. Who knows?

I turned my head to face him fully, but I didn’t meet his gaze right away. “Warren, I know you have a lot of commitments now, and I know that they’re important. I know that. But where does that leave us?”

Warren held my chin in his hand, and inclined my head upward to look into my eyes. “You can always come work for the X-Corporation, Dani. I’d love for you to be a part of the team.”

I laughed sharply at that. “How generous of you.” I turned from him then, to face the horizon. The mountains in Asgard really were this beautiful. “I’m leaving the X-Men, Warren.” There. Bombshell dropped.

“What?” Warren exclaimed, making no effort to turn me to face him again because he knew that it would be a wasted effort. “Why? I thought you were happy here, Dani. You get to teach, you get to lead field missions… isn’t that what you want?”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know, Warren. I don’t know what I want anymore. Ever since this business with Cassandra Nova, and now with what happened to the Professor…”

Even as I trailed off, Warren stepped up behind me and enfolded me in his arms. I think it was the first time that I had experienced receiving comfort from a man that I cared about. It definitely wasn’t me. But I found myself relenting into his embrace nonetheless.

“Why did you come here, Warren?”

Warren held me closer to him, which I found both distinctly uncomfortable and indescribably wonderful at once. “You know that I’m running for Senator now, Dani, and you also know that Melissa and I are working our asses off to get X-Corp into full gear.” His voice grew just noticeably quieter. “But I have to tell you something. Something very important. And you have to hear it.”

I braced myself, tensing up and growing rigid in his arms. I thought that I knew what he was going to say. Gee, Dani, you’re an intelligent and beautiful young woman, but I don’t have time to keep dicking around. I’d actually had a scathing retort coming fast to my lips when I risked a very gentle empathic scan and felt pure, raw emotion that squelched the words right out of my mouth. And before I could say anything, Warren leaned down and kissed me.

To say that Warren had taken me aback would be a gross understatement. I felt him as he pressed himself up against me, not knowing exactly what to expect. I also felt his emotions radiating from him so palpably that I could almost feel them on my skin. So what was a girl to do? I sank into the kiss. I returned it. Those few moments seemed to last for an eternity… and I didn’t mind one bit.

“I love you, Danielle Moonstar.”

I jerked back a little suddenly, more quickly than I think Warren was expecting. “Did I just hear you correctly, Warren?” Had I?

He smiled beatifically as he looked down into my eyes. He reached up then, and used his fingers to brush away more of my hair out of my face. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t do this earlier, but things got so crazy with the Black Womb and Cassandra and Genosha and Senator Kelly and the X-Corporation…”

I held a hand up to interrupt him, a smile somehow finding its way onto my face. “Slow down, Warren. Breathe.”

Warren smiled wider then, his eyes shimmering with delight. “God, you’re beautiful. You should be told that every day, Dani. Because you are. You’re beautiful and intelligent and wise beyond your years, and I’m making it my mission to win your heart.”

If I didn’t empathically feel and know that he was speaking from his heart, I would’ve sworn that he’d rehearsed his words in front of a mirror. But even if I couldn’t read emotionally read Warren, I could see it in his eyes. And, spirits help me, I had to tell him the truth.

“I love you, too, Warren Worthington,” I said.

“That’s Warren Worthington the Third.” That won him a chuckle.

But what now? This was an entirely new experience for me, and I didn’t know what to do next. And frankly, the entire conversation was making me uncomfortable. I’d never had a boyfriend in my life. Sure, there were men that I’d been interested in at one point or another, in some fashion. Sam, with whom I had co-led the New Mutants, and had very privately discovered that the struggle for one-upmanship and the constant competition had mae me realize just how attracted I was to him back then. ‘Berto, another old friend whom I had risked life and limb for by infiltrating the deadly Mutant Liberation Front and turning my back on all of my friends. Mike, who had been the only member of the Front who I actually liked, and felt that something could have developed between us if not for the lie I was living. And now… Warren.

“Is something wrong, Dani?” I could see the hesitation in Warren’s eyes as I looked up from my thoughts. I noticed him tensing, just barely, bracing himself for the worst. Isn’t life ironic like that, though?

I shook my head, and met his gaze. “Where do we go from here, Warren?”

Warren took a few steps back from me then, and held out his hand invitingly. I looked at him questioningly, not understanding. “Come with me, Dani.”

And just like that, I took his hand, and we left.

Hours later, Warren and I lay entwined and naked in his bed, the sheets lying haphazardly over us as our bodies recovered from the heat of passion. It had been my first time, and Warren… he had been very gentle, at least at first. When he discovered that I was a warrior and a leader in every aspect of my life, we discovered the fun of trying to one-up each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt better than I had given it credit for. Why the hell hadn’t I done it sooner?

My arms were draped over Warren’s naked torso, my fingers gently tracing along his well-defined chest. I enjoyed the asymmetry and contrast of Warren’s blue skin with my own deep, natural tan. My attention was out the window, gazing deeply into the night as I felt Warren’s fingers running through my hair.

“How come you never talk about Asgard, Dani?” Warren asked me suddenly.

That made me hesitate for a moment. Then I looked up at him, and met his gaze. “What brought that on?” There was a slight edge to my voice, one that I put there intentionally to let him know that this wasn’t a topic I cared to discuss. But even as I said it, I wasn’t so sure that I didn’t want to talk about it with him.

“Well, it’s kind of stupid, but I was thinking about something. Something about us that I hadn’t realized before.” He looked away as he finished, as if he were in thought.

“What’s that?” I asked him, my curiousity piqued.

“Well,” he replied, still looking away, “I just noticed that you and I are alike in one very important way. We’re both fallen angels.”

I sat up, clutching the sheet over my chest to cover my breasts. Isn’t it funny how people find the oddest times to develop a sense of modesty? “I’m not sure what to say here, Warren.”

Warren noticed my hesitation, and held my other hand in both of his own. “If you don’t want to talk about this, Dani, I’ll drop it. But I would like to. You can trust me.”

I met his eyes then, and something occurred to me. Warren almost never talked about his experience with Apocalypse, unless he was angry. He did so with me moreso than most, because we shared that experience, but even so…

And as far as I was concerned, only a very small group of people knew what had happened to me in Asgard. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant memory, and I made some choices in the days after that I still grappled with. Working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Infiltrating the Mutant Liberation Front. Betraying my friends, my family. And trying to save the life of someone who would’ve killed me if he knew the truth. Reignfire.

Warren was opening his heart up to me. He was showing, in his way, that he meant it when he said that he loved me. And I believed him. How could I not return the favor?

“You already know what everyone else here does. That I left the New Mutants to remain in Asgard with my Valkyrie sisters. And then I reappeared over a year later, wokring undercover within the Mutant Liberation Front.” I hesitated for a moment, and Warren gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I never enjoyed being a Valkyrie, Warren. It was so hard sometimes. I had to look into the eyes of people and be the one to know that they were going to die… and I wasn’t supposed to do anything about it. I had to watch Death itself come for those people, and I couldn’t interfere. It was the greatest curse I had ever known.”

“But you’ve fought Death before, Dani. You saved Logan’s life years ago. And you tried to save the life of your friend… Pat Roberts, right?”

The mention of Pat’s name brought a twinge of long-repressed pain and guilt. But it quickly went away, replaced by grim determination. “Yeah, I did. And I learned in that encounter, trying to save Pat’s life, that the greatest battles are sometimes never won, only fought. I learned that death isn’t just some painful, evil thing to be fought against. I learned that it brings an end to pain and suffering. I tried using what I learned when I remained in Asgard. I thought I’d take the best of myself and truly fit in for the first time as a Valkyrie.”

Warren slowly sat up, and his gaze never let my own. I could see the concern etched on his features, and that made me feel a little better. “Did something happen to you, Dani?”

“You could say that,” I replied. “I was training with my Valkyrie sister Mist this one time. She was showing me how to properly wield my spirit lance in battle, since I hadn’t had much experience with that weapon. And out of nowhere, we were both attacked by Hotamintanio.”

“Hot-a-what?” Warren asked. I chuckled slightly at Warren’s botching of the name’s pronunciation. I knew he wouldn’t get it on the first try.

“Hotamintanio. The Cheyenne god of war.”

“You’re joking,” Warren replied, his eyebrows raised in interest.

“Not in the least. He was there, large as life and twice as lethal. He wrapped me up in some sort of energy barrier, and proceeded to throw down with Mist.”

“What did this god want with you?”

I hesitated again, only for a brief moment. “Hotamintanio believed that I was betraying my Cheyenne heritage by remaining in Asgard, by remaining a part of a sisterhood and a people that worshipped other gods. And boy, did he ever let me know how he felt about that. I had to make a promise to him to get him to stop.”

“And what did you promise him, Dani?” Warren asked.

“Well, I told him that I would eventually return to Earth, but that I wanted to stay in Asgard for now and learn what I could from the Valkyries. I couldn’t just leave them, Warren. Honor bound me to Asgard, and I couldn’t leave that debt unpaid.”

Warren half-smiled at me as I finished. “It wasn’t all bad, though, was it, Dani? Being a Valkyrie, I mean?”

I thought about that for a moment, wanting to answer the question just right. “No. It wasn’t all bad. In fact, I respect and admire the Valkyrior to this day, and I’m still considered to be a sister to all of them. There’s a very big part of me that rejoices in the fact that such a strong group of female warriors exists. There used to be a time when I was never happier than when I was my Valkyrie sisters. And then there was Brightwind.”

Warren ran the back of his hand along my cheek, his voice lowered to something soft and comforting. “We don’t have to talk about Brightwind if you don’t want to, Dani. I… know what happened.”

I reached up and took that comforting hand in my own. “It’s alright, Warren. It’s been a long time, and it doesn’t hurt as much. But I did love him, and I still do. He was the most magnificent animal I’ve ever seen in my life. Do you know what an honor it was that he chose me to be his rider?”

“Yes, I do, Dani. And that should tell you, if nothing else, how special you are. You were the only mortal ever to become a Valkyrie. Ever, Dani. And you don’t even worship the same gods! But this sisterhood, one that’s second-to-none in the warrior tradition, accepted you into their ranks, and made you one of their own.”

I looked at him intently, more confused than ever. “What are you getting at, Warren?”

Warren continued. “Don’t let scars be the only thing that you walk away from the experience with, Dani.”

He was right. And I knew it. I had always looked upon my Valkyrie heritage as bittersweet, at best, but he made a good point. A point that I had already been aware of, but had never allowed myself to admit.

“Wow,” I said. “You’re good. It takes a special kind of man to get me to admit something that I don’t want to admit. That should tell you how special you are.”

He flashed a smile then, and I realized that just the sight of him smiling lifted my spirits. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

I ran a hand through my hair, and looked at Warren intently. “I guess you’re right, Warren. We are both fallen angels.”

With that said, I started to get tired again, and Warren and I both laid back down to get some sleep. He had me wrapped in his arms, and before I knew it, he was fast asleep. I wonder if he knew that he snored? If he didn’t, I’d be sure to tell him later.

Sleep didn’t come so easily for me, though. I started thinking about things again, and I found my mind drawn once again to Apocalypse. The High Lord was one person who I had tried very, very hard to put out of my thoughts, but that wasn’t a possibility tonight. I thought about what he had put not only me, but Warren through. I found myself wondering if Warren would ever be able to completely move past what Apocalypse had done to him. I knew I wouldn’t.

Just as I closed my eyes and resolved to get some sleep, I heard a voice that I never thought I’d hear again.

The voice of Apocalypse.

“Danielle.”

I opened my eyes, but I wasn’t in Warren’s bed anymore. I was laying on a very cold stone floor, inside of a room that combined the ancient wonders of an Egyptian tomb with the sterile, technological features of a future that I would die before I let come to pass. It was very dimly lit, but from what I could tell, I was alone.

I stood up then, and noticed that I was fully clothed… in the uniform that I wore while I was a part of X-Force: red vest, khaki shorts, and black combat boots. I usually had more conscious control over my dreams these days, something else that I had been learning over the years, but this was different. I felt very much not in control here. And that sparked more than a little fear in my heart.

But I wouldn’t show it. “This is a dream,” I said to no one in particular, firm and commanding.

“This is the truth, Danielle Moonstar,” came the cold, ancient voice of En Sabah Nur. I spun around, and there he was. The High Lord himself. And I found myself afraid. I knew this was a dream, but that didn’t matter now. Apocalypse was standing before me, and I was afraid of him. I probably always would be, on some level. But I had to get control of this situation.

“You can’t hurt me anymore, Apocalypse. Not in my dreams, and not in my reality. Never again.”

He chuckled then, a terrible sound for anyone to hear. “I never hurt you, Danielle. I merely unleashed your ultimate and considerable potential. Of all mutants in this world, you would serve my cause in ways that none other could.”

He lifted his hand up, and gestured me over to him almost nonchalantly. “Come to me, Danielle. I wish to show you something.”

As he turned to face the wall behind him, I found myself moving forward to join him. I knew this was a dream, and I knew that he couldn’t hurt me. I also knew that dreams were more significant than most people gave them credit for, and that I should learn what I could from this one.

I stopped at his side, and he reached out a hand to touch the stone wall in front of him. As he made contact, the wall seemed to melt away very slowly, revealing another chamber with a number of consoles and computer stations, all surrounding the center of the room.

In the center of the room was a containment tube, filled with fluid and bathed in a sickly green light. And within that tube, a woman was suspended. I could see long tresses of hair, which drifted lazily within the fluid. I couldn’t make much more than that out, though, because the lighting was still very dim. But something was very familiar about whoever she was.

“Behold, Danielle. The Horseman of Death.”

“Threnody?” I asked. “What does she have to do with anything? She’s dead now, because of you.” Something wasn’t right here. And within this particular dream, that was saying something.

Apocalypse chuckled again. “It is not Threnody that I speak of, Danielle, but she who I had truly intended to become Death herself. She who understands death as no other mutant ever could.”

I didn’t take my eyes from the chamber, or the woman contained within. “What are you talking about?”

“Turn and see for yourself,” he replied coldly.

I turned around suddenly, and I found myself face to face with an image that would come to haunt me. A woman stood before me, clad in black, form-fitting armor that combined Egyptian motif with something that struck me as familiar, but I couldn’t place it. She wore a mask to conceal her features, and long, straight black hair cascaded down her shoulders and back. She was my height, and stood before me in complete silence.

Fear clawed at my heart, though I wasn’t quite sure why. And it was then that the woman reached out with almost inhuman speed to place a cold, dead-white hand around my throat, and lifted me off the ground. I had both of my hands around her wrist, struggling with all my might to break her grip even as I fought to breathe. I tried to kick her swiftly in her midsection, but she didn’t seem to feel it through the armor, which I could tell was quite solid.

It was then that she reached up and placed her other hand over her mask, beginning to remove it. And even though I was caught solidly in her grip, I couldn’t help but see what she was about to reveal to me.

The mask hit the floor with a resounding, metallic clank, and my eyes widened in horror at what I saw before me. It was me. My skin beneath the mask was as dead-white as my hands, and my eyes were completely black, glinting evily in the dim light.

Apocalypse laughed, and I began to scream.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!” I shouted as I bolted up from where I lay. It took me a second to realize that I was in Warren’s room, and that I could breathe again. And just as I breathed a sigh of relief, I felt a hand on me, and I jumped.

“Dani, it’s okay, it’s me! It’s okay!” Warren put his arms around me and held me to him, and I noticed then that I was covered in cold sweat. My breathing was still ragged and fast, and I knew my heart was beating quickly. Warren held me to him for a few minutes of silence as he allowed me time to calm myself and get my bearings, and then he spoke to me.

“What happened, Dani? What did you dream?” Concern and worry was in his voice.

I looked out the window, into the night, and I could still hear the laughter of Apocalypse in my mind. I felt, I knew, that something terrible was about to happen.

“Death.”

The next morning, Warren was just getting out of bed as I finished dressing. I went for something casual today, something light, and that was as sure a sign as any to Warren that I wasn’t going to be teaching a class today. This wasn’t going to be any easy conversation.

“Dani? Where are you going?” He sat up in bed, looking at me in slight confusion. He could tell something was wrong.

I adjusted my shirt in the mirror as I replied, making a conscious effort not to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving, Warren. I told you last night that I was leaving the X-Men, and I’m more sure of that decision now than I was before.”

As Warren slid his pants on, I continued. “I’ve always believed that what we dream is our mind’s way of teaching us what we need to know, and last night showed me that until I come to terms with what Apocalypse did to me, I’m no good to anyone. Not in the field. Not in the classroom. Not in a relationship.”

Warren came up behind me, and put his arms around my waist. Just his touch, the feel of him against me, made this harder than I wanted it to be. “Dani, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to go. You have friends here, family. People who will help you with what you need. And I’ll be right there beside you, every step of the way. I won’t abandon you, ever.”

I met his eyes in the mirror then, and stopped what I was doing. “I know that, Warren, and that’s one of the reasons that I love you. But what you’re about to do for us, with the X-Corporation and with your political career, that’s important. You can’t set that aside for me right now. I’ve got to do this alone, away from here, so that when I come back, I can do what’s right.”

“So you are coming back, though?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming back.” I smiled at him, which caused him to smile back at me.

“If you need anything, Dani, you know how to get in touch with me. And I do mean anything. I’ll be there for you,” Warren said.

“I know, Warren,” I replied.

Warren looked down then, and took one of my braids in his hand. He thumbed the feather that I had placed in it, and smiled. “Hey, this is one of mine.”

I nodded. “Just a little something to remind me what I have to come back to.”