SUNSET

By Ryan Krupienski and Ian Astheimer

For Omega Red, this is the culmination of a long, arduous journey. He’s been to Hell and back, and it’s time for answers. As the next step is taken, foot sinking into packed snow, an audible crunch is heard. He turns to see a burst of pure crimson tear through the air, headed directly for him.

There’s no time to act; Omega Red’s chest caves with the hit, and the brunt of the impact sends him reeling. Tendrils fly in all directions, as he slips on the slick ice. With a thud, his padded backside lands, sending a crack through the frozen wasteland. A crack that steadily grows until it reaches his attacker’s feet.

Both men share a panicked look. There’s an eerie calm for a moment. Scott Summers stands still, seething from the discharge. Arkady lays flat. Doubt begins to form. Maybe the ice won’t break. Maybe there’s still time to get away. Maybe…not.

“Oh shit!” Cyclops exclaims, while the world begins to crumble.

And, with that, they plummet. In a matter of seconds, the adversaries fall nearly a hundred feet. Each lands hard on ages-old technology. These machines that haven’t been used for decades sputter slightly, as if they wish to come alive. But, ultimately, that’s not in the cards. A tangle of metal and wires decends from the broken ceiling, followed by layers and layers of ice and snow. Under other circumstances, the sight would almost be majestic – nature and artificial intelligence merging into a new whole. As quickly as it begins, it ends, though.

And then…

The Soviet Super Soldier snaps to his feet. His neck cracks, and wisps of his blond mane are pulled through the air like streamers behind a jet. Stumbling towards his opponent, the Russian looks down at the X-Man and asks, point blank, “Why have you been following me?”

The former leader of the mutant freedom fighting force, still laying atop a computer that could easily be older than he is, smirks. “I’m here to kill you.”

Then, he reaches for his visor.

The Blackbird soars through the sky, like the freest of birds. If the situation weren’t so dire, Archangel would be having the time of his life. Outside. In the air. Where he belongs. Sadly, there’s no time for fun. And, he’s cooped up inside the cockpit of the engineering masterpiece, hating every minute of it.

“I hate to sound like a five year-old, but are we there yet?” Worthington inquires to his co-pilot, Jean Grey.

Phoenix nods slightly, her eyes never deviating from the air in front of her. “Just a few more seconds, Warren.”

“Picking up anything on that psychic rapport you’ve got with Scott?” Havok inquires from his seat in the back of the jet.

“That was…severed,” the Marvel Girl turned woman states with a notable degree of reluctance.

“Oh,” is all the second Summers brother can manage.

“God. Oh God. Sweet God in Heaven,” Cecilia Reyes mumbles through her chewing gum, as she begins to pray. Flying’s never been her strong suit. Even in the most capable hands, she has an overwelming fear that the vessle will crash or explode without warning.

“Easy, doc, you’ll be fine.” Alex attempts to comfort her with a pat on the shoulder. “This is all routine.”

“How the hell could this be routine?! Do you people defect and go AWOL all the damn time?” she snaps, unintentionally.

“Well…yeah, actually. Hell, it wasn’t too long ago that I was running the Brotherhood.” His hand is retracted, and a shrug follows.

“You what?” Her eyebrow cocks, and she turns her head towards him.

“Oh yeah. It was all a ruse to gain some inside info. But, Scotty felt the need to kick my ass to snap me out of it. So, this is just tit for tat, as far as I’m concerned.” His smile doesn’t do much to calm her nerves, but every little bit counts.

As soon as the former leader of X-Factor finishes his sentence, the current leader of the X-Men begins hers. “Prepare for landing. We’ve arrived.”

Like any scientist, when Hank McCoy works, he gets very…caught up in his research. The man’s been known to stay in his labratory for days on end, dissecting, viewing, reviewing, testing, checking, and double checking anything and everything that might be of interest. Back in his days of yore, food wasn’t even a necessity. Of course, that was before he became a huge, blue feline, so things have obviously changed. With a Twinkie in one paw, the PhD bends over his microscope and begins to toggle the lenses to find the best view of his specimine. So involved in his experiment is he that his perked ears don’t even hear the door to his lab slide open.

“Doctor McCoy?” an Asian woman asks, stepping inside. The queirie doesn’t garner any reply. “Henry?” She knocks lightly on the inner panneling of the room. When that doesn’t work, it’s time for a more direct approach, namely the tapping of a shoulder.

“Hmmm…?” The blue, bouncing bio-chemist snaps around, a little more startled than he would have liked. The cream filling from his snack shoots into his face. With a chuckle, the cake is tossed into the awaiting mouth, while spectacles are removed and cleaned on a labcoat.

“Sorry about that…” The woman known only as Kwannon rubs the back of her neck hesitantly.

“It’s fine, my dear. How may I be of assistance?” Beast wonders, returning the glasses to the top of his muzzle.

“I just wanted to thank you,” the mysterious woman begins. Bringing a small device forth from her pocket, she presses the large red button on its surface, and her face begins to fade away to reveal…her face. “The scar is gone, and no one was the wiser. So, thank you for keeping it between us.”

“Ah, doctor-patient confidentiality is nothing for which to be that grateful. I was merely doing my job,” the ever humble physician assures. “But, I can’t help wondering if sharing such a scar with your fellow teammates wouldn’t have been a good idea. Soldiers have been known to bond over war wounds on many an occasion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” The image-inducer is passed from woman to man. “I don’t believe I’ll be needing that any more.”

McCoy rests it on the stainless steel table. “Well, thank you for returning that modern marvel. But, there’re plenty in stock. So, if you wish to keep it for sentimental value, be my guest.”

“I’ll pass on the offer at the moment, but maybe some other time.” Her comment is accompanied by the wave of a hand. “Right now, I’ll leave you to you work. Thank you again.”

“My pleasure.” His with a nod.

With that, the enigma of a woman turns and heads to the door. But, as she reaches the threshold, she hears…

“Oh my stars and garters!”

In a flash, Kwannon is back at Beast’s side. “What? What is it?”

“I do believe our young friend Ever may be dying.” As exciting as the revelation is to the scientist, he can’t help but feel somber.

“I’m not sure I understand…” The Asian mutant tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and anticipates an explanation.

“I’ve been studying a tissue sample of the boy’s. And, at the rate at which Ever’s body is transforming into gray matter, it would appear that his psionic powers will soon overwhelm, if not outright consume, him.”

Both simply stand, dumbfounded by the news.

Rocking baby Rachel in his arms, Chris Bradley peers over the back of the couch, out the open door, and into the hall. Two of the newest recruits – Leyu, the sister of Sunfire, he seems to recall, and Cameron, one of the members of Xavier’s Mutant Underground – are walking hand in hand down the hall. Bolt blinks, looks down at the infant, who coos, and looks back up.

“Shocked to see me?” Peter, another new mutant in the mansion, wonders aloud, judging by the teen’s expression, as he walks in.

“Oh, no, I just…did…was? What’s going on around here, man?” the conductor of electricity finally manages to inquire to the now seated shape-shifter.

“You didn’t know?” The novice picks up the remote and starts channel surfing.

“Know what?” Bradley’s left eyebrow raises, but the rocking never stops.

“Leyu’s sweet on Cameron, man. It’s plain as day. He gets her wet, if you know what I mean.” A wink is enough to make the message all too clear.

“Oh?” A nod of understanding follows. “Oh…!”

“Yeah, it’s like you and Jean. Obvious.”

Bolt sits straight up at the mention. “What? I…we…that…no way.”

“Oh, shut up, man.” Pointing at the bundle in Chris’ arms, Peter continues. “Why else would you be playing Babysitter’s Club with her kid?”

“Someone has to.”

“Um, yeah…or they could just leave the tike in her crib, and she’d be none the wiser, bro.” Shifting in his seat, the chameleon turns his attention back to the big screen. “Just admit you want to tap that ass. No one’ll hold it against you…well, unless you ask real nice.”

“Except I don’t,” is the best defense the shocker can muster, and even he realizes it’s not very good.

“Then, why the hell do you blush every time someone mentions Jean?”

“Because I…I…dammit. Okay, you’re right. I’d like to…you know…”

“Ride her train? Pump her gas? Scrub her bubbles?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” the young man admits.

“Sicko,” the other comments.

And, both laugh.

As the Blackbird touches down on the frozen terrain, mere feet from the expansive hole that has recently been formed, a bright burst of energy flows forth from below, sending a lithe body straight into the air. The door to the jet swings open, and Jean Grey-Summers wastes no time in barking out orders. “Warren, get my husband out of there. Now. Alex, take point. Cecilia, you’re with me.”

Archangel swoops down the hole and out of sight at the mere mention of his name.

Havok walks to the nose of the plane and crosses his arms, waiting.

Reyes follows close behind Phoenix, who uses her telekinesis to lift Omega Red high into the air. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The Russian smiles, revealing teeth whiter than his skin. “Die.” Tentacles jet forth from his eyes, slashing and clawing. Jean ducks, but not at the cost of her concentration. Her hold wanes for a moment, giving the super soldier time to hit the ground and run.

“Not so fast,” the doctor cries, before beginning the chase. Omega Red stops in his tracks, turns, and, with the snap of a wrist, smacks the Puerto Rican across the face with an energized extension. Instinctively, the forcefield at Reyes’ command covers her body, absorbing most of the attack. Still, the slap sends her off her feet and sliding through the snow.

Just as Arkady Rossovich begins to bask in his glory, a blast of hot plasma hits him dead in the chest. He doesn’t move. Another connects to the face with the same result. As the assault continues, Omega Red manages to turn his head ever so slightly. Jean Grey’s form is in plain sight, holding the man steady, while her brother-in-law unleashes his raw power. While Alex Summers charges for his next attack, Warren Worthington III lands next to him, placing Scott Summers on the ground. The brothers share a quick glance, followed by a nod from the older and a grin from the younger. Then, they give it all they’ve got.

Combining in mid-air, the two streams of energy strike as one, hitting their target dead in the center of his chest. His body barely seems to put up a fight, and the blast flows right through, leaving nothing but a gaping hole. The cold warrior lasts only a moment longer on his feet before crumbling.

Dr. Reyes, wiping snow from her dreadlocks, walks over to the limp form.

“Anything you can do for him, Cecilia?” Jean asks from a few feet away.

Cece kicks him in the head. “Nope, he’s dead.”

“Good. Then, I can do this without any remorse.” Grey closes her eyes, and Omega Red floats into the air. His body flattens out and moves into a spreaded eagle. And, then, he’s pulled in five different directions. His body tears apart at the center – arms, legs, and head all jerked at once. Blood attempts to shoot up and out of the open wounds, but it’s easily caught, bundled, and buried. In only three seconds, the only evidence that Rossovich was ever there is a pink spot in the snow. “Now, let’s go home.”

Still in awe and not wanting to test her, the other X-Men fall in line and file into the Blackbird, silently. Husband and wife hold hands all the way back to the mansion. She’ll never let him go again.

NEXT ISSUE: Everything changes! Get ready.