Uncanny X-Men

INTO THE LIGHT

Part III: Dead On Arrival

By Ryan Krupienski and Dino Pollard

The Xavier Institute

Two levels and approximately five hundred feet below ground, on the mansion’s second sub-basement level, there is a very special room with a very special purpose. It’s new construction, something built in recent months, and a room that is, in many of the X-Men’s minds, a long overdue addition. Over the years, many dangerous mutants have been contained at the school in one way or another… small and isolated holding cells, the Danger Room, even the underground medical lab… all have served at one time or another as a way of containing various enemies of the team. They all served their purpose well, but it’s become increasingly clear to those currently running the institute that preparing a makeshift prison cell within other facilities can interrupt the flow of operations.

So they built a new facility, a spacious room with a bounty of large containment units, a dozen in all. Each is about twenty feet tall, cylindric in shape and completely translucent. Six sit on either side of the room, and those which are occupied are also filled to the top with a thin, green liquid meant to induce a mild form of hebetude, effectively rendering the inhabitant comatose.

At this present time, only three of the units are in use. In one rests the form of Rancor, an experiment gone horribly wrong with thanks to the Weapon X program, who was brought here after an encounter with the X-Men in Russia. The other two are Madelyne Pryor and Nate Grey, who just hours ago came to the school and attempted to destroy it and all those who call it home. Fortunately, the X-Men were able to stop them, and the attackers were subsequently brought down to the containment area.

Taking a good look at the young man who, in terms of biology, is her son, Jean Grey wonders what’s happened. She’s not surprised that Madelyne, literally her ‘evil twin’, attacked the X-Men, but she’s baffled as to why Nate would do the same. He’s never been on the best of terms with the team, but he doesn’t hate them; he’s never been their enemy. Jean knows something is amiss, something else is going on… and it worries her greatly, as she can’t imagine what kind of force could take control of arguably the most powerful psi in the world.

Sabretooth. She saw his face, in Nate’s memories, before Cassandra and Ever took him out. She saw him, in Sinister’s old lair in Nebraska, reawakening the Madelyne and Nate after they’d apparently been lying dormant for some time. How could Sabretooth control them? He doesn’t possess any powers of the sort, nor is he at all resourceful. Jean knows other forces must be at play… who or what is that which she can’t even begin to figure out.

Jean’s unsettled. So much has been going well in the past couple of months… but so much has also been going wrong. Her powers have been developing more and more, enabling her to do things she could only imagine doing before. However, these bursts of power have her teammates and even herself a bit on edge, and she’s found herself feeling ‘off’ at times, holding back or letting go more than she should for apparently no reason. Not to mention her recent manifestation of a Phoenix Raptor in Russia… and everyone knows what that could mean.

Then there’s Cassandra. Charles’ twin sister who missed out on the life he had, and just recently she found her way home. Jean has grown to trust and respect the woman, even consider her family, as she’s been there for Jean, helping her and encouraging her in ways that others could… or would… not. Why her announcement in Washington, then? Jean wants to believe in Cassandra, but after declaring to the world that her brother Charles never truly existed… a sliver of doubt has begun to set in, and Jean is trying with all her might to deny it.

Of course there’s more. Her irrational behavior, from her brutal slaughter of Sinister to her attack on a teammate to sending the other X-Men on missions without the right protections… even Jean has to admit that, at times, she hasn’t exactly been the paragon of logic or self-control over the past year. Add on the fact that two of her dearest friends are dying, and then the weight of Blaquesmith’s top secret operation… Jean Grey is a woman slowly coming apart at the seams.

Except she can’t come apart. Not now, not when she’s on the brink of accomplishing such great things.

Jean’s gaze moves to Rancor, and her eyes narrow as she looks the man – the monster – over. Henry hasn’t been able to find out much about him, save for the fact that instead of a heart, he has what’s essentially a miniature nuclear power plant pumping pyrokinetic fire through his veins. In Russia, Rancor said to Jean that she’s like him… she’s ‘one of them’. Another mystery to be solved, another possible burden for her to bear. Will it ever stop?

“Jean? What are you doing?”

She knows who the voice belongs to instantly, and Jean turns around to see Ororo Munroe walking in her direction. “You should be resting,” Ororo continues, coming to a stop near her longtime friend.

“How can I rest, Ororo?” Jean asks. “After all that’s happened… and is happening…”

“Precisely why you should try to get some sleep,” Ororo says. “We have it under control. Madelyne and Nate are contained, most of the team and many of the students are attending to the clean-up duties… and Scott and Logan are on their way to deal with Sabretooth.”

“Kurt and Anna went with them,” Jean informs. She lets out a sigh and continues, “I argued with Logan… so much. I at first told him he wasn’t going on the mission, especially in his condition. Then I tried to beg and plead with him…”

“And he went anyway,” Ororo says with a nod. “I’m not surprised.”

“Neither am I,” Jean agrees, “but I’m worried. I’m afraid he might not come back.” She pauses for a moment, then appends her statement with a final, disquieted word. “Alive.”

“All of us are worried about that, Jean. However, you have to accept the fact that the man is going to die no matter what… and he can’t sit on the sidelines while the rest of us fight his battles for him. That would go against his very nature.”

“But this isn’t just his fight, Ororo… Sabretooth attacked all of us. And to be honest, I’m sick of Logan acting like some macho man with a score to settle… he tries to make everything personal.”

Ororo can’t help but smile at the comment. “Logan can be infuriating at times, yes,” she concurs. She turns serious as she adds, “With Sabretooth, though… it is personal. It’s something he has to do, Jean.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Jean asks.

“Logan and I have talked,” Ororo tells her. “And even before, the first time he was dying, when that disease turned his healing factor against him… even then, I remembered that Logan is a man who’s not afraid of death. He’s a man of honor and integrity, he’s exceptionally brave… too sure of himself at times, stubborn, and yes, a reckless fool with no concern for his own safety…”

“But you think he’s ready to die,” Jean says, finishing off Ororo’s sentence for her. “And that’s all that matters.”

“I truly hope he returns home safely, Jean,” Ororo says, “but if he doesn’t… I’ll have peace of mind knowing my friend left this world in the only way that would suit him.”

“You have such a way with words, Ororo,” Jean quips, flashing a small grin. “You should be a motivational speaker.”

“And give up the life of a vigilante mutant freedom fighter?” Ororo says, cocking an ivory eyebrow in jest. “Never.”

Ororo smiles at Jean, and places a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. Her eyes move from her fellow X-Man to each of the three individuals in the containment units, then settle back on Jean. “You shouldn’t be here, my friend. Not now, when you’re so burnt out.”

“Sleeping isn’t going to help,” Jean says.

“There’s something else bothering you,” Ororo says pointedly. “Cassandra’s announcement, I presume.”

“Oh, that and…” Jean stops and turns away from Ororo, uncertain of how to express her fears. She doesn’t necesarily want to give her teammates any more reason to be wary of her.

“What, Jean?” Ororo insists.

Jean turns back around to face Ororo and locks eyes with the taller woman. “What if it’s me, Ororo?” she says, a despondant look now on her face. “We all know my powers have been growing, and after that display in Russia… what if…? What if my Phoenix potential is returning, and it’s causing all of this? What if my powers are corrupting us all?”

The Blackbird

Flying just under the speed of sound is the X-Men’s modified Blackbird jet. Cyclops sits at the controls, trying to keep his focus on the events which have occured recently. In the co-pilot’s seat is Nightcrawler. Both have served as leaders at some point in both the past and the present, both for different teams. Sitting behind them are Kwannon and Wolverine. The only connection these two share is their martial arts skill, and they are both close to their fellow X-Man, Jubilation Lee.

“Where are we going?” asks Kwannon.

“Nebraska,” replies Cyclops. “When Jean discovered it was Sabretooth behind the attack, she also found out that he was operating out of one of Sinister’s old bases.”

“Joy…” mutters Kwannon.

“I shouldn’t be here…” says Cyclops. “Jean should have sent Domino instead.”

“Not the brightest idea, Summers,” says Wolverine. “It’s no secret how ya feel about Cassandra, an’ even though I may agree with you, I can see why Jean wouldn’t want you hangin’ around the mansion right now.”

“You’re one to talk about bright ideas, Logan,” says Cyclops. “You’re lucky to be alive after your last mission, but instead of letting your body heal up, you decide to tag along when we’re going after one of the most ruthless killers in the world.”

“It’s Sabretooth,” says Wolverine. “That makes it personal.”

“Cassandra just told the world that the man who raised me never existed, and she might be manipulating my wife,” says Cyclops. “How is that anything but personal?”

“…I’m sorry,” says Wolverine. “We’ll have plenty of time t’ deal with Cassandra after we take care of Sabretooth.”

“You’ve been pretty quiet the whole trip so far,” says Kwannon.

“Hmm?” asks Nightcrawler, snapping out of his semi-trance. “Sorry… just thinking.”

“Don’t do that, Elf,” says Wolverine. “It’ll get ya in trouble every time.”

New York University Medical Center

Cecilia Reyes lies in her bed in the spacious hospital room, a television remote grasped in her right hand. She hasn’t changed the channel in hours, having watched Jean Grey’s speech in Washington and the subsequent announcement by Cassandra Nova, not to mention all of the coverage taking place in the aftermath. Everyone’s in a frenzy over the event and the supposed revelation regarding Charles Xavier; Cecilia has no idea what to think. She’s met Cassandra once or twice, she barely knows the woman, and is pretty much removed from the current happenings at the mansion, save for what her fiancé tells her.

Her fiancé, Henry McCoy. The man she loves with all of her heart, the one person who’s made her happier than she ever thought she could be, the one person she can’t imagine living her life without. The problem is, she may not have much time left; the cancer continues to eat away at her, it’s only spread, gotten worse since it was first discovered. She’s been in and out of the hospital, being tested and receiving treatment, though she’s spent most of her time lately in this room, and thus has had a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She’s done even more of that over the last couple of weeks. She was told that the chemo-therapy and the radiation aren’t doing enough, the tumored cells aren’t being killed, and the doctors want to try something else – surgery. A total mastectomy would remove all of the tissue from her right breast, and with more radiation, the doctors are very confident the cancer could be completely obliterated. Afterward, Cecilia would have reconstructive surgery, and she’d be able to return to her normal life – if there is such a thing.

Of course, there’s always the chance that it’ll come back. Nothing is for certain, not even the success of this possible surgery. Cecilia’s been mulling over a decision for two weeks now, trying to decide what she should do. She’s been through so much as it is, and it’s done no good; does she really want to take a chance on this procedure, endure more trauma to her body, only for the disease to return with a vengeance later on down the road?

She’s sick of thinking about it. Sick of being in this hospital gown, sick of lying around all day, sick of not even being able to eat her favorite foods… sick of all of it. About the only positive thing she can think of in this situation is the wig she’s been wearing since she shaved her head; it’s so close to her real hair, and it looks damn good.

Cecilia’s train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the opening of the door to her room. “Ah, my dear,” comes the sound of a man’s voice, “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Oh, my eyes have just been glued to the TV for the past couple hours, no way I’ve been sleeping,” Cecilia says, smiling as a tall, blue-furred man with a lion-esque appearance walks toward her. “I’m surprised you were able to tear yourself away from the drama, though, Hank.”

Henry McCoy smiles at Cecilia, and moves his arm out from behind his back to reveal a bouqet of red roses. “Nothing is more important to me than you.”

“Thank you,” Cecilia says graciously as she takes the roses into her arms. “They’re beautiful.”

“As are you,” Henry says, gently caressing his lover’s face with one of his brutish fingers. “I tried getting up here with a bit more haste, but my attempts were thwarted by a mob in the lobby.”

Cecilia furrows her brow in confusion. “What?” she says. “Were people giving you a hard time because of your appearance?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Henry assures her. “No, there was a flurry of good citizens looking to secure my autograph…”

“Ah, still workin’ that Avengers magic,” Cecilia says. “That’s my man.”

Henry nods. “Indeed I am,” he says.

“So what the hell happened?” Cecilia asks, a curious look crossing her face. “Is Cassandra for real?”

“Oh, that,” Henry says with a sigh. “It’s… complicated. The simple fact of the matter, though, is that what Cassandra said isn’t true. I’m not sure how we’re going to dig ourselves out of that hole, but I’m sure Jean and the good senator will think of something.”

“No doubt about it,” Cecilia agrees. “And what happened at the mansion? You told me on the phone it was attacked…”

“Yes, some of our old enemies have resurfaced… there’s a team out dealing with the situation,” Henry tells her. “Nothing to worry about. I just want to focus on you, my dear.”

Cecilia smiles. “Me too.”

“I… I do have to ask,” Henry says hesitantly, “have you… thought about the surgery at all?”

Cecilia hangs her head for a moment; she’s definitely though a lot about it, she just doesn’t know what she’s going to do. That’s the same answer she’s been giving Henry since she first told him what the doctors were thinking.

“I have,” Cecilia answers. “I still don’t know what I want to do.”

“And that’s quite alright,” Henry tells her, “I just… I don’t want you to sit on this for too long. Cecilia, if this can really work – and it looks like it will – I don’t want you to go on suffering as you are any longer than you have to.”

“Hank,” Cecilia says, “I… I want to read something to you.”

“Oh?”

“I was online earlier today, looking up stories about women who’ve had cancer,” Cecilia explains, retrieving a print-out from the end table. “I found this one in particular, there’s a part of it that just… it just really touched me.”

“Please,” Henry says, motioning for Cecilia to read the excerpt.

“This woman who was terminally ill with breast cancer was asked what it was like to know her mortality is limited,” Cecilia says. “She answered, ‘It’s like being outside with your friends on a beautiful summer evening and being the first one called in for the night… although my night is being cut short, the evening was still spetacular’.”

Cecilia swallows back a lump in her throat, as tears begin to well in her eyes. She fixes her gaze on Henry and says, “Same with me, Hank. No matter what happens… whether I have a month, or a year, or fifty years left… I have no regrets. I’ve fulfilled my dream of being a doctor, I’ve made a lot of wonderful friends over the years, and… and I’ve been lucky enough to fall in love with you. You’re my heart, Hank.”

Fighting to hold back his own tears, Henry responds, “And you’re perhaps the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known. You inspire me in ways no one else ever has. I love you, Cecilia… I always will.”

“I love you too,” Cecilia says, giving one of Henry’s brutish hands a squeeze with her own. “No matter what happens…”

“Don’t,” Henry says with a soft hush. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. If… if you’ll just agree to this surgery, I really think…”

Henry stops, noticing the pensive look on Cecilia’s face. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to push you, but I’ve had a chance to talk with Doctor Moy and Doctor La Rue… I agree with their assessment that this procedure will be a success.”

“Yeah, I know, it really does seem to be the way to go,” Cecilia says with a nod. “I guess I’m just afraid. I’m afraid because it’s almost too good to be true. Have a surgery, six to twelve more months of radiation… and I’m cancer-free. Hank, I don’t know if I can go through all of that not knowing what the real end result is going to be.”

“I know, and I…” Henry stops himself, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You know what?”

“What?”

Henry smiles and continues, “I say we shelve this discussion for the time being and move ahead with the preparations for our impending nuptuals.”

“Doctor McCoy,” Cecilia says happily, “nothing would make me happier.”

The Xavier Institute

Amidst a flurry of their fellow X-Men and a good amount of the school’s student body, Bobby Drake and Jubilation Lee are participating in cleaning up the rather large mess left by Madelyne Pryor and Nate Grey’s attack. They both have to groan at the situation; how many times has the mansion been partially demolished and then rebuilt? They’d think that the head honchos would get a clue and maybe invest in some more durable construction materials.

They know it will be a breeze, and the mansion will be good as new in no time, especially with all the students that have pitched in to help. It’s been an adjustment for both of them, being around all of these young people, but they’re glad to be helping guide this next generation of mutantkind into the future. It’s been an exhilarating experience for Jubilee in particular, who for so long was used to being the student.

Most vivifying for them both, though, has been the new love they’ve found – in each other. Never in a million years did they ever imagine they’d be a couple, especially years ago when they were first teammates, and Jubilee had only fifteen years on Bobby’s twenty-three. Looking back at their relationship then, and especially looking at things now, though, it makes more sense to them than just about anything else in their lives.

Using his ability to freeze solid the moisture in the air, Bobby’s created a large, makeshift dumpster completely of ice, where everyone is hauling the various pieces of rubble scattered inside and out of the front end of the sprawling mansion. At this time, more than half of the work is done, but they’ve all still got a ways to go. However, Bobby and Jubilee have decided that it’s just about time for them to retire from this tedious job.

“So what I want to know is, why don’t we have some sort of super mega Shi’ar vacuum cleaner?” Jubilee comments, picking up two broken table legs off the ground.

Bobby, grabbing hold of the large half of a split tabletop, responds, “I’m just wondering why we’ve never had a maid, personally.”

“Maybe we should start a petition,” Jubilee says. The two start walking towards the ‘dumpster’ and she continues, “Because seriously, I’m just not feeling this at all.”

“Yeah really, especially after we had to deal with those two assholes… and I even got knocked out,” Bobby quips.

“And I had to actually fight them while most of the others got to run off with the kids,” Jubilee chimes in.

“So why are we doing any of this clean-up?” Bobby ponders aloud.

Jubilee laughs slightly. “Listen to us… we sound like a couple of divas.”

“Yeah,” Bobby says, also laughing, but his levity quickly turns to dread. “Wait, I’m not a ‘diva’… what’s a male word for ‘diva’?”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Jubilee says, shaking her head in disbelief, “are you still freaking out because I told you I used to think you were gay?”

“No!” Bobby cries out, looking around frantically to see if anyone may have overheard Jubilee’s last comment. “No, no… I…”

“You need to loosen up, man,” Jubilee tells him, an amused look on her face. “I already told you, Peter is not having masturbation fantasties about you… that was a joke!”

“Oh my God,” Bobby says, mortified, “please stop talking about this. Please.”

“His fantasies are about Cyclops,” she says, a sly grin forming on her face. “And he’s wearing nothing but his visor…”

Bobby blinks his eyes absently a couple of times. “I am not hearing this…”

“Oh okay, I’ll stop,” Jubilee says in a huff. “Yeesh.”

The two arrive at the ice dumpster, and Bobby throws the tabletop into it. Jubilee then has her turn, and tosses the table legs in with impetuous force. Bobby is taken aback, not sure what to make of Jubilee’s sudden aggressiveness.

“Hey… calm down,” Bobby tells her. “I’m sorry, okay? I mean, is it really that big of a deal?”

“Oh, to hell with that crap, I was just teasing you,” Jubilee says with a sigh, not looking at Bobby. “I’m just…”

Bobby eyes her curiously. “What?”

“I’m worried about Logan,” Jubilee says, her eyes meeting her boyfriend’s. “And I’m pissed that I’m not on that jet going to Nevada.”

“Well I for one am glad you’re not on it,” Bobby says, moving closer to the young woman. “This is Sabretooth we’re talking about, Jubes… the guy even freaks me out.”

“He’s just an overgrown cunt with claws,” Jubilee says, her voice layered thick with hatred. “Knock-off Wolverine… thinks he’s hot shit…”

“Whoa whoa, calm down now,” Bobby says, surprised at Jubilee’s language. “You’re right, Sabretooth is nothing compared to Logan… but you don’t need to get worked up over this.”

“What if he doesn’t make it, Bobby?” Jubilee says, her emnity changing to distress. “What if Sabretooth kills him?”

Bobby moves closer and takes Jubilee’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Honestly?” he begins to say. “I don’t think there’s any kind of chance that Sabretooth could do more than give Logan a couple of scratches. Even in the condition he’s in right now.”

“I… I know,” Jubilee says, looking down at the ground. “I just wish I was there to back him up.”

“You support him, even from a distance… that’s his back-up,” Bobby tells her, his voice turning more into a whisper with each word.

Jubilee looks up at Bobby, offering a weak smile. “Come on… I think you need a break,” he deduces.

“Ten minutes,” Jubilee tells him, waving an authoritative finger at him, “and then it’s back to work, slacker.”

“I am not!”

“Are too.”

“Okay,” Bobby agrees, smiling. “But only if you tell me all about this Cyclops fantasy… every juicy detail…”

“Oh, shut up…”

“Seriously!”

“Bobby… bite me.”

Bobby grins and moves his hands down to Jubilee’s waist, hooking his index fingers through the belt loops of her pants and pulling her close to him. Playfully he says, “Just tell me where.”

Nebraska

The Blackbird makes a flawless descent outside of Sinister’s old base. The four X-Men disembark and take stock of their surroundings. The remains of Sinister’s laboratory are in ruins, barely standing.

“Let’s hope Sinister didn’t leave behind any Marauder clones, ja?” says Nightcrawler.

“Don’t even joke,” says Kwannon. “This place gives me the creeps enough as it is, I don’t even want to think about more than one killer running around in it.”

“I doubt we’ll have to worry about anything like that,” says Cyclops. “This place is pretty much destroyed. I’m starting to wonder if Jean was right when she said this was place.”

“He’s here,” says Wolverine.

“You found his scent?” asks Nightcrawler.

“No, I just… know,” says Wolverine. “It’s a feelin’.”

“Is that feeling of yours telling you if anyone else is around?” asks Kwannon.

“Nope,” replies Wolverine. “But I’m not pickin’ up any scents, so I think we’re in the clear.”

“What’s the game plan?” asks Kwannon.

“We should stick together,” replies Cyclops.

“Nah, I say we split up, cover more ground.” replies Wolverine.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to seperate,” says Cyclops. “Remember who we’re dealing with.”

“I know exactly who we’re dealing with,” says Wolverine. “But be practical, if Sabretooth knows we’re huntin’ him, it’ll be easier for him to take all of us out at once as opposed to taking us down one at a time. At least this way, we won’t all be caught by surprise if he does get the drop on us.”

“I don’t like what you’re saying,” says Cyclops.

“Ya don’t have to like it,” says Wolverine. “But this is the way it’s gotta be. We’ll cover more ground in a shorter amount of time, give him less places t’ hide in.”

“…You’re right,” says Cyclops.

“Good, you an’ Kwannon go through the south end of the lab,” says Wolverine. “Kurt an’ I’ll take the north. We’ll meet up in the middle.”

“We’ll see you there,” says Cyclops.

“Good,” says Wolverine. “C’mon, Elf.”

Wolverine starts walking northbound into the base, with Nightcrawler following behind. Cyclops watches the two of them for a few moments, and then heads in the opposite direction with Kwannon.

Cyclops and Kwannon tread carefully through the dilapidated laboratory, looking into every open doorway they pass. The ground level has literally been collapsed, but the underground walls are surprisingly still more or less standing, of course with plenty of gaping holes. Neither of them have been to this place in a long time, but the minute the Blackbird landed, all the memories came rushing back.

For Kwannon, she remembers this place first as a sanctuary, where she was first taken by Sinister after he rescued her from the site of the accident that killed her son, and almost took her life as well. After discovering the truth about the man she once knew as the kind Doctor Essex, that he was an evil man and was conditioning her as a tool to inflict pain on others, she sometimes wished she’d died that night as well. However, having found a new calling as a member of the X-Men, and having been reunited with a long-lost relative, she feels at peace for the first time in years.

For Cyclops, this place is something more – the ground level of the lair was once an orphanage, more specifically the one where Scott Summers spent a good portion of his childhood. Knowing Sinister was watching him, studying him all along, makes the already bad memories even worse. As an adult, and a member of the X-Men, though, he’s also been to this place many times as a result of confrontations with the madman. The last time, Sinister went too far, and Scott’s wife showed him no mercy. Cyclops and Kwannon both watched him die.

“Oh, the memories,” Kwannon quips, to which Cyclops replies with a soft grunt.

“Tell me about it,” he says. The two continue to walk through the passageway, cautious not to trip on any of the rubble.

“Do you even know where we are? Everything’s blown apart, I can’t tell what area is what…” Kwannon says.

Cyclops looks around, using the infra-red vision capabilities of his visor to peer through the walls and wreckage. “Not really sure. No sign of Creed, though.”

“I’m almost hoping we won’t find him here,” Kwannon confesses. “He’s a horrible man.”

“Did you know him, when you worked for Sinister?” Cyclops asks.

“I met him once,” Kwannon says. “He was restrained at the time, and Essex had told me that he was a vicious killer that he’d captured and stopped from murdering a family in Vancouver. He told me that he was the only one with the resources to contain Creed.”

“Figures,” Cyclops says with a roll of his eyes. “Everything that man ever said was a lie.”

The two become silent, and they continue walking, catching sight of a wide, steel door that apparently withstood the explosion that all but destroyed the lab. Kwannon squints her eyes in an effort to get a better view, and Cyclops’ visor allows him a look past the door.

“His life’s work,” Cyclops says as he and Kwannon approach the door.

“What?”

“This is the entrance to the databanks… he kept DNA samples in here,” Cyclops tells her. “He collected one from nearly every mutant that ever lived. I’m not surprised he never showed it to you.”

“Every mutant?” Kwannon says in awe. “I guess there’s still more that I don’t know about him…”

Suddenly, something catches Cyclops’ eye. The door to the databanks is slightly ajar, and the keypad to the side of it has been ripped from its place in the wall. “Help me,” he says as he slips his hands in the narrow opening and begins to push the door to the side.

The two X-Men exert all their strength to pull the door open, and at first are met with heavy resistance, until their efforts sever the door from the broken cabling above and below it. They succeed in opening the door about two more feet, plenty wide enough for them to walk through. They step inside the room and are met with a spacious area that, in part due to the darkness, seems to go on forever.

“It’s very big,” Kwannon comments.

“It’s also empty,” Cyclops says.

“How can you tell?” Kwannon asks.

“You can’t see it very well, but there’s supposed to be cabling zig-zagging across this whole room… sort of like a spider-web,” Cyclops explains. “If the door resisted the explosion, the room should have been untouched. There were canisters attached to the cables, each one had a mutant DNA sample in it…”

“…But they’re gone,” Kwannon says, finsihing her teammate’s sentence for him.

“This is bad,” Cyclops says. “Someone’s gotten a hold of Sinister’s genetic database. I don’t even want to imagine what they can do with it…”

“I know where he is,” says Wolverine.

“Vas?” asks Nightcrawler. “Where?”

“The control room, up ahead,” replies Wolverine. He walks towards the door.

“We have to tell Sco-”

“Kurt, yer my friend an’ all, but if you make that call, I’ll break yer neck.”

“Are you insane, Logan?”

“Why do you think I insisted that we split up?” asks Wolverine. “Why do you think I sent them in the opposite direction? I could smell Creed the instant I walked in here. It’s for their own good that they’re not with us, an’ now, I want you to make yourself scarce.”

“You’re insane,” says Nightcrawler. “Do I have to remind you about your condition? You’re in no shape to take on Sabretooth, there’s no way you’ll be able to heal fast enough.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to kill him before he gets any good licks in,” says Wolverine.

“I’m not leaving you,” says Nightcrawler. “We’re in this together, mein freund.”

“Kurt, I swear t’ God…”

Wolverine is cut off as the door they’re standing in front of suddenly bursts open. In the broken doorway stands Sabretooth, a tooth-filled grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, well…” he says. “Long time no see, runt.”

Sabretooth lifts up his hands, and razor-sharp claws extend from his fingertips. The dim lighting of the room shines off the claws.

“Logan…” says Nightcrawler.

“I see ’em,” says Wolverine.

“That’s right, I got ’em laced in an extra layer of adamantium,” says Sabretooth. “Not bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it really brings out the blue in yer eyes,” says Wolverine.

“I always admired yer sense o’ humor,” says Sabretooth. “So… who’s first?”

“Wolverine, Nightcrawler, do you read me?” Cyclops says after tapping the yellow ‘X’ on the left glove of his uniform to activate his comm-link. “Logan, are you there? Kurt?”

“Sabretooth might have gotten to them,” Kwannon suggests.

Cyclops lets out a frusterated sigh. “I knew splitting up was a bad idea…”

“This little mystery can wait, then,” Kwannon says, briefly glancing at the door to the databanks which they now stand outside of. “Do you know where they are?”

“Not exactly, but we can track them,” Cyclops says as he pulls out a small handheld device from inside his jacket. “Let’s move.”

An explosion of smoke and light, combined with the scent of brimstone, signals Nightcrawler’s teleportation. A necessary act in order to avoid Sabretooth’s claws. In that split-second when Kurt vanishes and reappears, Wolverine body-slams into Sabretooth, throwing all his strength into the blow. Sabretooth recovers quickly and backhands Logan, sending him flying into a wall, where a crack is heard as his arm dislocates.

Nightcrawler teleports behind Sabretooth and delivers a kick to the back of his head. Sabretooth’s adamantium-layered skull causes the attack to do more damage to Nightcrawler’s foot than his head. Sabretooth spins around and catches Nightcrawler in a bear hug. Kurt vanishes in an instant and rematerializes behind Sabretooth. He kicks out Sabretooth’s legs from under him, and teleports once more. This time, Nightcrawler reappears above Sabretooth and drives his feet into Creed’s abdomen.

Sabretooth is back on his feet in almost no time at all and he charges towards Nightcrawler. Kurt teleports once more, but when he reappears, Sabretooth catches him with a slash of his claws. Blood flows freely from Nightcrawler’s side, and Creed grins as he licks the blood from his claws.

“Not bad,” he says, and then turns to Wolverine. “You’re next, runt.”

“Good,” says Wolverine. One hand is clutching his arm.

“You suicidal, bud?” asks Sabretooth. “You’ve got no healing factor, an’ yer age is starting t’ show, pops. Maybe y’ should just buy a condo down in Florida an’ sit on a balcony overlooking th’ ocean, bitchin’ about the Democrats and disrespectful kids. Because y’ just ain’t cut out for this X-Men gig anymore, and you know it.”

Logan just keeps his eyes on Sabretooth as he slowly approaches, still clutching his arm.

“Y’ can go golfing on the weekends, fishin’ at night – maybe even find yerself a nice widow, but only Asians or redheads, right?” says Sabretooth with a grin on his face. “Whassamatter, midget? No sense o’ humor now? No comebacks? C’mon, y’ gotta have somethin’ t’ say.

Wolverine grits his teeth as he pops his arm back into its socket. And then, with a thought, his bone claws extend from his hands.

“Shut up and fight,” he says.

Wolverine leaps forward and drives his claws into Sabretooth’s chest as he slams into his opponent. The two of them go flying into the wall and crash through it. Nightcrawler can do nothing but watch from a distance as Wolverine and Sabretooth go at it, tooth and claw.

Wolverine jumps away from Sabretooth, then leaps over his enemy’s head. A fraction of a second after he’s landed, he cuts into Sabretooth’s sides with his claws, letting blood spill out from the wounds. Sabretooth grunts in pain, and spins around, impaling Logan on his own claws. Logan braces his feet against Sabretooth’s chest and pushes himself off Creed’s claws. Wolverine backflips in the air and lands on his feet, but he fumbles a bit on the landing, almost losing his balance. Sabretooth notices this and laughs.

“Lookit you,” he says. “Yer old an’ slow.”

Logan offers no reply, and though he tries to deny it, he knows Creed is right. Every muscle in his body feels like it’s on fire, and his wounds continue to shoot stabbing pain into his nervous system. Sabretooth, on the other hand, moves with a speed and ferocity that seems almost unnatural – even for him.

“C’mon…” says Sabretooth, taunting him with a waving finger. Wolverine charges forward and leaps at Sabretooth. Creed grabs his claws and begins spinning, gaining momentum, and then releases Wolverine’s hands. The X-Man goes crashing into another wall and falls into a third room, too far for even an unwounded Nightcrawler to reach him. Sabretooth begins to slowly make his approach, grinning from ear to ear as he enters the room, the light shining off his claws.

“I’ve waited a long time for this…”

“KURT!”

Nightcrawler turns his head to see two of his teammates running towards him. Cyclops and Kwannon come to an abrupt stop when they reach the wounded man’s side. “Scott… Logan, he’s…”

“I called you on the comm-link, you didn’t answer,” Cyclops says as he kneels down to take a look at Nightcrawler’s wounds. “Are you all right?”

“It’s just a little flesh wound, I’ll live,” Nightcrawler quips. “I think my unit was damaged in the fight, but Logan…”

“Where is he? Where’s Sabretooth?” Kwannon asks.

Nightcrawler takes a deep breath, wincing in pain from his injuries. “Straight ahead of me… they went through the walls… I was watching, but they went too far for me to see…”

“Anna, stay here with Kurt and…” Cyclops says.

“No, Scott,” Nightcrawler interrupts. “You can’t go after him alone… he’s stronger, faster…”

“I’m coming with, Scott,” Kwannon says. “It’s up to us.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nightcrawler assures them. “Just find Logan… please!”

Cyclops and Kwannon take off in a hurry and dash through the broken-down walls of room after room, desperate to find their teammate. They both know that Wolverine is no match for Sabretooth in his current condition. Cyclops opens the lense of his visor and blasts through a wall, catching sight of a motionless body on the floor in the adjacent room.

“Is it him?” Cyclops asks as he follows Kwannon through the hole he just created.

Kwannon kneels down beside the body, then looks up at Cyclops. “Yes… it’s Logan.”

Somewhere else

The room is dark, the only light coming from the dozen monitors resting above the computer console that lies against one of the walls. A female figure stands before the monitors, watching all of the events taking place at Sinister’s former lair.

She watches Cyclops and Kwannon rush into the room where Wolverine lies on the ground, observing the Asian woman kneel down beside the old man. Her eyes quickly shift to another monitor, one showing Nightcrawler lying against a wall, both of his arms crossed over the wound on his abdomen. The image zooms in and turns to the side a bit, settling on a close-up of the blue-skinned X-Man’s face.

Pain. Guilt. Shame. All of those emotions and more are plain to see on Kurt Wagner’s face. She can even see the tears in his eyes; not tears for his own physical pain, but tears for his longtime friend, who he hopes is all right. He feels terrible that Wolverine had to battle Sabretooth by himself, even though it’s what the man wanted… but he shouldn’t have let this happen, though. He shouldn’t have let Creed take him down so easily.

The woman knows exactly what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, just by looking at him. She almost feels sorry for him; he’s bleeding profusely, emotionally crippled, afraid for his friends’ lives… alone. She affords another glance at the other three X-Men, then looks back at Nightcrawler, and reminds herself that she’s doing what she has to.

“Oh, Kurt,” the woman says with a sigh, “I’m so sorry…”

“I don’t see him anywhere,” Cyclops says as he slowly spins around, using his infra-red vision to look for any signs of Sabretooth outside of the room.

“Scott…” Kwannon begins to say.

“He has to still be here, he wouldn’t just cut and run… he’d want to finish us all off,” Cyclops says to himself.

Kwannon tries again to hail her teammate. “Scott…”

“Creed!” Cyclops yells out. “Come out and face us, you coward!”

“Scott!” Kwannon says once more, this time catching the man’s attention. “Creed is gone.”

“How can you be so sure?” Cyclops asks, walking over to Kwannon, who’s still kneeling by Wolverine’s side.

“His job is done, Scott,” Kwannon says, looking at her teammate with melancholy eyes. “He’s got the one thing he truly wanted… Logan’s not breathing. He’s dead.”

NEXT, IN UNCANNY X-MEN #34: Wolverine remembered. Guest-starring Elektra, Captain America, Black Widow, and more.

AND IN X-MEN #24: The quest to expose the Black Womb begins.

Author’s Notes
Not a hoax, not a dream. Wolverine is dead. And he ain’t comin’ back.

~Ryan
09/22/03

 

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