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- THE BEAST
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- PHOENIX
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- CYCLOPS
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- STORM
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- ARCHANGEL
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- KWANNON
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- NIGHTCRAWLER
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- DOMINO
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- WOLVERINE
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- ANGELA MOLTON
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- MELISSA BENNETT
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- LILANDRA
AB OVO
By Ryan Krupienski
Chapter 1
Two individuals sit at an oval-shaped steel table that rests in the center of the large, somewhat dim War Room. Their eyes are fixed on the holographic projection before them: a map of the state of California. A beautiful redheaded woman, dressed in black leather pants and a gray, ribbed shirt with a yellow ‘X’ afixed to the chest area, stands to the side of the projection, using only her thoughts to pinpoint a more precise location on the map.
“This is where you’ll be going,” the standing woman, the X-Man called Phoenix, says. She glances at the map, then back at those she is briefing, her teammates Nightcrawler and Domino. She continues, “Death Valley, California. It’s not exactly a small area, so you’ll have some scouting to do. I wish I could give you more, but Cerebro isn’t picking up any concrete thought patterns, and neither am I… and there’s no visible structures that I can point you towards.”
“But you said there’s been some on-and-off psychic disturbances in this area,” says Nightcrawler. “Certainly you have something more than this to give us… I have to say, I’m weary of leading a team into this when I have no idea what we’re up against, Jean.”
“I understand, Kurt,” Phoenix responds with an understanding nod, “and normally I wouldn’t be sending anyone in until I had even the smallest inkling of what’s going on… but these disturbances have been happening for a while now, and I think it’s something that needs to be checked out.”
“What I don’t understand is why you’re not sending a telepath with us,” Domino chimes in, as the other two sets of eyes in the room fall on her. “If this is a psychicdisturbance, it might make sense to send someone with us who can shield our minds from any mental attacks.”
“Normally, I’d agree, but from what I’ve been able to gather, sending a telepath into this could be outright dangerous,” Phoenix says, earning her a couple of confused looks from her teammates. “These are bursts of raw, human emotion, being amplified a thousandfold… immense pain, fear, hatred… nothing that I’ve been able to scan from the area is a positive emotion, nor can any of these disturbances be classified as offensive… but I’m afraid that any telepath or empath that gets too close would be overwhelmed due to heightened sensitivity to mental disturbances. Even someone as trained and conditioned as myself might not be able to take it, from what little of all this I’ve been able to process. I only want to send in a telepath as a last resort, and for right now I only want you to scout the area, see what you can find, and let me know.”
“I understand, Jean,” Nightcrawler says with a firm nod, his uncertainty about this mission diminished a little. “Have you told Alex and Scanner yet?”
“No, that’ll be your job. Alex is actually finishing up a student orientation right now, and I have another meeting shortly, so I won’t have time to brief them.” Phoenix pauses for a moment and telepathically commands the holographic map beside her to shut down. “Now, remember, I’m going to remain in constant telepathic contact via a remote Cerebro link. Anything goes wrong, I’ll be alerted; I also have a reserve squad that I can send in if necessary.”
“I assume Bobby is a part of that group,” Nightcrawler remarks as he and Domino stand from their seats. “He’s not happy about having his leadership revoked.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust him or believe in him, Kurt, because I do,” Phoenix sighs as she begins to explain. “It’s just that I’m more confident in the leadership skills the two of you possess. Both of you have had a lot of experience in command positions. A lot of it has to do with me just trying to figure out who works best with who… figuring out the best way to reformat the squads, if you will.”
“I hope you know that all your hard work is very much appreciated, my friend.” Nightcrawler walks up to Phoenix and places one of his three-digit hands on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I also hope you know that we are all here to help you, if you need it.”
“Of course I know that. Thank you, Kurt,” Phoenix says, somewhat baffled, but nonetheless exchanging a smile with her fuzzy companion.
With that, Nightcrawler and Domino head towards the room’s exit and stroll out into the hallway through the automatic sliding door. As the door closes behind them and they continue down the hall, Domino turns to her new partner.
“What was that last bit all about?” Domino asks.
“I just wanted Jean to know that I am there for her. That all of us are,” Nightcrawler responds. “I can’t read minds, but I sense that she’s in a very lonely place right now. She’s not acting like herself. Something’s changed.”
“I really don’t know her that well… but, if you say so.” Domino stops herself from saying anything further and hopes Nightcrawler will do the same. She doesn’t like discussing people – especially those she doesn’t know terribly well – behind their backs.
The two X-Men arrive at an elevator shaft and Domino presses the button on its side, causing the cylindric door to open. The duo step inside and they ride the elevator up to the ground level in silence.
Georgia
Ororo Munroe strolls down Tenth Street in Atlanta’s Midtown region, admiring the temperate fall weather along with the beautiful architecture lining the busy streets. It some ways, the area reminds her of Salem Center, only larger and a bit more modern. She doesn’t let her thoughts drift off too far, though, as she’s here for a reason: to recruit a new student for the Xavier Institute, a young woman who may or may not yet know that she’s a mutant.
As she walks, dressed in a sleeveless, forest green dress with a matching shawl draped over her shoulders, Ororo searches for an apartment building, number 250. She crosses over to the next block and comes to a four-story, brick-red building… and sure enough, it’s the one she’s looking for. She enters through the door and heads towards the staircase. She could of course take the elevator, but she prefers to walk.
Ororo arrives at the fourth floor where the staircase ends and begins glancing at the numbers on the flawless mahogany doors. After walking down the wide hallway for a moment, continually glancing to her left and right in search of her final destination, Ororo’s eyes find the apartment she seeks. She stops and walks up to the door marked 4C, then rings the doorbell on its side.
She waits a minute, and gets no response. Maybe the girl’s not home? Ororo decides to try again, pressing her long, slender finger against the round doorbell button for a second time. Another minute passes, and there is still no answer. As she’s about to walk away, having decided to come back later, the handle on the door begins to shake a little, as if someone’s trying to open it, but isn’t having the best of luck in doing so.
“Hello?” Ororo says, hoping to get an answer from whoever’s on the other side of the door. “Is everything alright in there?”
Still no response, and Ororo becomes just the slightest bit worried. The doorknob continues to shake for another minute or so, until it is finally turned all the way, allowing for the apartment door to open and for Ororo to see who it is on the other side.
A small ebony-skinned boy, dressed in cow pajamas and looking to be about four years old, hangs onto the doorknob and looks up at Ororo with his big, brown eyes.
“Well hello there,” Ororo says with a friendly smile, crouching down to meet the boy at eye-level. “What is your name?”
“Trey,” the boy replies in a shy voice. “You help my mama?”
Ororo narrows her eyes in question. “Is your mother’s name Angela?”
The little boy nods his head in response and Ororo is at last completely sure she’s at the right place. She’s surprised the young woman has a child of her own, but that’s not of concern to Ororo, nor is it her business. Going back to what Trey said just a moment ago, Ororo asks him, “Is your mother sick?”
He nods again, then lets go of the doorknob and walks back into the apartment, moving slowly as if to lead Ororo to his mother. Ororo stands up and follows Trey into the beautiful apartment, which is a tad bit messy, but no more than the average home is. They turn a corner and head down a short, narrow hallway, heading towards a half-opened door at the end. Trey opens it up and walks inside, and stops to look at the young woman sitting on the floor up against the bathtub. Ororo catches sight of this and at first notices the woman looks exhausted and frightened, and that her clothes are in a state of disarray; the X-Man wonders for a moment if she’s been raped.
Ororo then looks to the left and sees the half-melted toilet that is slowly but surely disintegrating onto the tile floor in small, lazy drops of white porcelain. It takes her mere seconds to realize that whatever the young woman’s mutant powers are, they’ve just manifested. Ororo places her hand on Trey’s shoulder as she moves past him, then removes it and kneels down at his mother’s side. “Angela?” she says softly.
The young woman moves her eyes to look at Ororo, and is at first dazed at how exotic the strange woman is. She’s never seen blue eyes or white hair on another black woman before. However, those thoughts last but a minute as Angela suddenly asks, agitated, “Who are you… and what are you doing in my home?!”
“Angela, my name is Ororo Munroe, I…”
Before Ororo can finish, Angela turns her head away sharply and swiftly, positioning it inside the bathtub, and a thick stream of green acid spews forth from her mouth. The vomit slams into the tub and immediately begins to melt away at it, and Ororo realizes that the same thing must have happened with the toilet.
“By the Goddess,” Ororo exclaims under her breath. She’s never seen a mutant ability quite like this one.
“Did you… you just say… ‘Goddess’?” Angela asks between loud, coarse coughs, still keeping her head within the bathtub. “You here to try and recruit me for some… some religion? Already told those… those crazy Jehovah Witnesses… to leave me and my son… alone…”
“I am here for no such thing,” Ororo says, placing a tentative hand on the young woman’s back. “As I was saying before, my name is Ororo Munroe. I am from the Xavier Institute is Westchester, New York. I am here to help you.”
“With this?” Angela asks, referring to what she’d done to the toilet and bathtub.
“Yes, with this,” Ororo responds. “Because ‘this’ is your mutant ability, and like you, I am a mutant.”
“WHAT?!” Angela spins around and looks at Ororo with wide, watery eyes, acid-vomit lining the sides of her mouth. “No… I’m just… I’m just sick, is all! I just have some weird virus…”
“That is not true. Human beings do not regurgitate acid. You know that as well as I do,” Ororo says, trying to calm Angela down. The more agitated Angela becomes, Ororo fears, the more likely she is to throw up again. “Please, I am here to help you. Will you let me?”
Angela slumps against the bathtub, her head hanging down as tears begin to stream from her eyes. “I… I don’t want my son to get hurt because of me…”
“And he will not be,” Ororo assures, turning her head to see Trey still standing in the doorway, remaining calm and strong for his mother. “But if you are to truly get the help you need, you must come with me, we have to go to Westchester. There are more specialists there who can help you.”
“I just can’t leave… I have my school… my job…” Angela says as she starts to raise her head. “My whole life is here. I can’t just up and leave.”
“You cannot stay here, either, and receive the help you need. The move does not need to be permanent… we only want to help you learn to control your abilities so that you won’t be a danger to yourself or others, and when that time has come, you most certainly can return to your life here if that’s what you want.”
Angela looks directly into Ororo’s eyes and sees that the older woman is sincere in her desire to help. She hasn’t come across many people in her life like this Ororo Munroe, and even though Angela’s only known her for all of five minutes, she can’t help but trust the woman without question.
“Trey,” Angela says, turning to her son, “can you do mama a favor and go pack some of your clothes in your schoolbag? We’re going to go on a trip with this nice lady here.”
Trey smiles and nods, then dashes away to his room to do as his mother has asked. Ororo asks, “Do you need some help getting up?”
“No…” Angela responds as she slowly rises from the cold, tile floor, leaning against the edge of the bathtub for support. “It probably isn’t a good idea for you, or anyone, to touch me.”
“I suppose that would be wise,” Ororo says in agreement. “Would you like me to pack some of your things?”
Angela almost lashes out at Ororo; she hates being babied, she’s always been the independent, self-sufficient kind. She knows, though, that Ororo is truly here to help her, and decides that maybe leaning on someone else for once isn’t such a bad idea.
“Yes, please… there’s a black suitcase under my bed. Clothes are in the closet. My room’s right outside on the left. I think I just need to go sit down,” Angela finally says, holding her hand up to her head. She walks past Ororo and out of the bathroom, heading for the living area at the other end of the hallway.
Ororo makes her way out of the bathroom and finds Angela’s bedroom, which is next to Trey’s. As she is about to step inside, she hears Angela cry out.
“Oh… shit!”
Ororo races to the living area and finds Angela on the couch, her hands dug tightly into the fabric and an expression of terror clear across her face. The X-Man turns to see what Angela is staring at and finds three men, dressed from head to toe in shiny black, standing just inside the apartment near the doorway. Each has a weapon in their hands pointed at the two mutants.
“Angela Molton,” the man at the head of the group says through his armored helmet, “we’re not here to hurt you.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Ororo asks the man in a stern, demanding tone. “Leave now, or so help me…”
“This doesn’t concern you either, Storm. We’ve just come for the boy. Where is he?”
Utah
Scott Summers and the woman known only as Kwannon drive down the rural country road in a sleek, silver Mercedes Benz. They’ve been on the road since yesterday morning, though they did spend the night before at a hotel in one of the many small towns they’ve driven through. The original plan was to fly out here in one of the mini-jets, but Scott and Kwannon both decided that a drive through the country might be a welcome change from the hustle and bustle at the Xavier Institute.
“Here we are,” Scott says as the Benz passes by the sign indicating their destination; ‘New Harmony, Population 150’. The first X-Man breaths a sigh of relief and loosens his grip on the steering wheel just a bit. He’s glad that, after over thirty hours worth of actual driving, him and his partner have finally arrived. He’s not necessarily looking forward to driving back… yes, it’s been a relaxing trip, but also very long and very boring.
“I’m astonished that the directions Chris printed off of this ‘MapQuest’ for us were absolutely accurate,” Kwannon comments, studying the pieces of paper in her hands. “So, you want to look for Geyer Drive, and turn right.”
“Alright,” Scott says, peering into the distance for any indication of a street sign. He’s still getting used to not having to wear his ruby quartz glasses anymore, and driving has indeed been a challenge since he’s still, in some ways, readjusting to seeing in colors again. He always carries a pair of those glasses with him, though. Just in case.
After about ten more minutes, a sign for Geyer Drive shows up and Scott makes a right turn onto the new road. It’s a dirt road, as opposed to the asphalt one they were just on, and seems to end after a couple hundred feet. About four houses total can be seen down the way, and all of them appear to be small. According to their directions, they want the last house on the left.
“I’m very curious as to how anyone could live in a place like this,” Kwannon comments. “It’s so small, so secluded.”
Scott nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. I could never live in a place like this.”
As the car inches down the road, Kwannon spots the small house – ‘shack’ is more appropriate – that is the location of the two mutant children they are here to find. “There,” she says as she points to the house. Scott proceeds to pull over and park the car on the side of the road. The two X-Men unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car, cringing at the sweltering desert heat; it’s rather hot for it being fall. Scott actually wishes Ororo was here right now, if only to adjust the climate, make it a little less brutal. Then she could leave.
“Alright, let’s see if the kids are here,” Scott says, taking a small device resembling a palm pilot out of his pants pocket. He flips open the mobile Cerebro device and activates the mapping program with a stylus, and the unit gets to work pinpointing the two X-Men’s current location. It then brings up the bio-signatures on file for the two mutants they’re looking for, references their current location, and shows that the two children are in fact inside the small house before them.
“They’re here,” Scott says, closing up the Cerebro unit and putting it back in his pocket.
“So how do we go about doing this? Without frightening them, that is?” Kwannon asks, turning to Scott. “I know you’ve done this sort of thing before, but I doubt this is going to be easy.”
“It’s always a little more difficult with kids, you’re right,” Scott replies with a nod. “We’ve just got to be patient. Not too patient, though.”
Scott leads the way to the front door of the house, Kwannon following behind him. They arrive and Scott knocks on the front door a couple of times; no response. He knocks again, and this time the door opens, creeking loudly; no one is there at the door, though. Scott and Kwannon step inside slowly and look over the cramped, run-down home, which is unfurnished and looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in ages. Scott cringes at the thought of children living here.
“Is anyone here?” Scott calls out, him and Kwannon still looking around. No response from anyone.
“Maybe they left?” Kwannon suggests. “They could have seen our car, got scared, and run away.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. I’ll get the mobile Cerebro out again…”
Just as Scott is about to reach into his pocket, the door slams shut behind the two X-Men, and an invisible force trips both of them to the ground. They land flat on their backs, side by side, and groan in pain for a moment before sitting up and assessing the situation.
“What was that?” Scott asks, looking around the room.
“It almost felt like something grabbed my foot and forced it out from under me,” Kwannon says, rising to her feet and offering her hand to help Scott up. “Perhaps we’re dealing with a telekinetic. Or two.”
“I don’t know, Jean said she couldn’t get a precise reading on what the kids’ powers were, but you never know.” Scott suddenly stops and becomes perfectly silent, and motions for Kwannon to do the same; listening very carefully, they can both here footsteps on the level above.
“They must be upstairs,” Scott deduces, and he and Kwannon head towards the narrow staircase leading to the level above.
They arrive at the top of the staircase and see the upper level to be one big room, a children’s room it seems, with two twin beds, an end table in between, and a dresser sitting against the wall across from them. There are also toys and books sprawled about everywhere; the condition of everything in the room is very poor.
“Children living in these conditions…” Kwannon stops herself from saying more, she doesn’t want to get all riled up. She knows she doesn’t need to comment on this anyway, as she can tell that Scott is feeling the exact same way as her.
“Hello?” Scott says, looking around the room. “We’re not here to hurt you. We just want to talk.”
Kwannon sees a small, quick movement under one of the beds and moves closer to it. She crouches down and looks underneath the flimsy sheet and sees the figure of a small, brown-haired girl lying on the ground, her eyes wide with fear.
“Scott,” Kwannon says, not changing her position, “I’ve found one of them. It’s a little girl.”
“Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me…” the girl whispers over and over, her breathing rapid and heavy. She doesn’t budge from her spot, she only stares right at Kwannon, afraid out of her mind.
“It’s okay… I am not here to hurt you… I promise,” Kwannon says, smiling at the girl. “What’s your name?”
“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” the girl screams, causing Kwannon to back away from the bed in surprise. Scott is startled as well, and they both keep a safe distance back, waiting for the screaming to subside.
And just like that, it ceases. As if the screams were on a tape or CD and someone just pressed the stop button. Scott and Kwannon exchange a curious glance then Scott moves to look under the bed, and finds that the girl is no longer there.
“Gone,” Scott says to Kwannon. “Did you see her move out from under the bed on either side?”
“No, I didn’t,” Kwannon responds. She doesn’t say it, but this whole incident is starting to greatly disturb her. She can’t help but feel there’s something else going on here. “What now?”
“GO AWAY! Leave us alone!”
Scott and Kwannon turn towards the direction of the staircase to see a young man standing just at the top of it, his fists clenched in anger. Kwannon notes that looks to be about the same age as the girl she saw, and has almost identical features save for his short, black hair; they’re probably twins, she thinks.
“Young man, please, calm down,” Kwannon says, taking a step in the boy’s direction. “We…”
The boy, shaking violently in fear, takes a step back and momentarily loses his balance at the top of the staircase, almost falling backwards and tumbling down the steps. Kwannon sees this and acts to prevent it, grabbing the boy by his arm and pulling him towards her. She places both of her hands on his shoulders, attempting to steady and calm him.
“It’s all right, just calm down now,” Kwannon says in a soothing tone. Her words do no good as the young man tries to struggle against her grip, but to no avail; she looks to Scott, who nods at her, indicating his belief that she’ll handle the situation just fine.
“What is your name?” Kwannon asks the boy, who has stopped squirming but is now completely silent. “If you think we’re here to hurt you, you’re wrong. If that was out intention, we would have done so already. Please, we are here to help.”
“If you want to help you can leave!” the boy yells, half-angry, half-despared. His young voice cracks with every few words he says, indicating puberty, and Kwannon can feel from the intense heat emanating from his body that he must have a horrible fever. She wonders how long he’s been out here with his sister, and what they’re so afraid of.
“What is your name?” Kwannon asks again, this time with a bit more intent. “My name is Anna. My partner over there is Scott.”
Scott is surprised at first by Kwannon’s revelation of her real first name, though he figured before that she had one; he just wonders why she’s kept it to herself until now. He ceases the speculation, though, and walks closer to Anna and the young man, crouching down beside his teammate.
“I-Ivan,” the boy finally says in a soft tone.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ivan,” Scott says as Anna takes her hands off Ivan’s shoulders. “Now, like we said… we’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help. Can you tell us where your parents are?”
“They left. They said we were children of Satan and that we should be left out here to die,” Ivan says matter of factly, no hint of sadness in his voice. He looks at both Scott and Anna for a good while, staring directly into each of their eyes. After a moment of silence he asks, “Are you married?”
Scott furrows his brow in confusion. “To each other?” Ivan nods. “No, we’re not,” Scott replies. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you both lost a son and I thought maybe it was the same one.”
Silence fills the air momentarily and Scott turns his head slightly to look at Anna. He can see the pain crawling over her face. The scenario doesn’t last long, though.
“Where is your sister?” Anna asks quickly, wanting to change the subject.
Ivan merely says, “You can’t see her.”
Scott sighs, becoming a bit impatient. “Come on now, I think you realize that we’re not here to hurt you or your sister.”
“No, you can’t see her,” Ivan says. “Because you can see me.”
Scott and Anna exchange a puzzled look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott asks.
Ivan just stands there silently, staring aimlessly into space. Suddenly, he starts to fade away, effectively becoming invisible; however, a new form comes into view, that of the same girl Anna saw underneath the bed. Her arm is outstretched, her hand resting in the air right where her brother’s right shoulder was a moment ago.
“Oh…” Scott says, now understanding what Ivan meant.
“And what’s your name?” Anna asks the girl, smiling warmly. Her heart breaks as she looks over the girl; she has bruises all over her face and arms, and dry blood is crusted up all over her lips. No wonder she was so afraid before.
Suddenly, the girl vanishes as her brother did before, and Ivan comes back into view. “That’s Natalia,” Ivan says. “She doesn’t talk like normal people. She has to stay in the safe place.”
“What happened to her?” Anna asks.
“My dad.”
Anna instinctively pulls Ivan towards her and embraces him, gently caressing his back, hoping to show him that someone does care, someone is there for him and his sister; it’s more than obvious the twins have been abused, and she can’t stand it. “We are going to take care of you. Is that alright?”
Scott looks on at the display, also saddened, but at the same time surprised; in the past few minutes he’s found out quite a bit about his new teammate. He’ll have to have a talk with her when this is all over and they’re back at the mansion.
Anna pulls out of the embrace and looks right into Ivan’s eyes. She asks, “Will you come with us? You and your sister both. We want to take you to a safe place, far away from here.”
“The school, right?” Ivan asks, looking over at Scott. “Where you teach.”
“That’s the one, buddy,” Scott replies with a grin. “So what do you say?”
Ivan’s content expression suddenly turns to dismay, his mouth curling into a frown. “I don’t think we’ll be able to.”
“Why not?” Anna asks, having no idea at all what the boy’s answer might be.
Ivan looks down at the floor, as do Scott and Anna, and they all see small pockets of smoke rising up through the cracks in the floor. Looking up at Scott and Anna, Ivan says sadly, “Because we’re all gonna burn to death.”
Chapter 2
Henry McCoy peers with his yellow, cat-like eyes at the plump young girl sitting on the burgundy leather couch across from the one he’s occupying, unsure of what he’s just heard. These orientations with the school’s new students have gone very well so far, and he finds it refreshing to have so many new faces at the Xavier Institute, but he must admit that none have been as… interesting… as young Tammy Lynne Baker.
She’s around seventeen years old and caucasian, with a large, round figure, and curly blonde hair that falls just below her shoulders. She’s one of the last students to talk to Henry; after her he has three, maybe four more. As she smiles, her dimples enlarge and her cheeks tint pink, and she sighs happily, gazing at her new teacher.
“Tammy Lynne,” Henry says as he presses his blue-furred paws together and rests them in his lap, “could you… repeat what you just said, please?”
“Sure, Professor McCoy,” Tammy Lynne responds, her voice thinly layered with a Southern drawl. “Ah chose a mutant name already. Ah think it defines me perfectly. Mah name is… Bootylicious!”
Henry stares at the girl, perplexed, and blinks once, twice, three times before clearing his throat. After a moment of silence he continues, “This name is certainly unique. I must inquire, how did you go about selecting it?”
“Oh, Ah was hoping you’d ask that,” Tammy Lynne responds cheerily. “See, there’s this song, and it’s called Bootylicious. Ah heard it last year, and it was like, ‘Ah don’t think you’re ready for this jelly’,” she half-sings. “And it was so… empowering! It made me feel like, even though Ah’m plus-size, Ah’m still beautiful. Ah’m still just as much a woman as anyone else.”
“You are, indeed,” Henry responds sincerely with a nod. “I’m glad you’re secure with yourseld, that’s certainly a daunting task these days for girls your age. And if all it took was a song to make you feel this way… well, that’s wonderful, Tammy Lynne.”
“Bootylicious.”
“Ah… yes… Bootylicious.”
“Hee hee,” Bootylicious says gleefully, wiggling her pudgy arms around a bit.
“So, now… you understand exactly what your powers are, then?” Henry inquires as he removes his glasses momentarily to rub his left eye, then replaces them. “I’ve classified your ability as… ‘super-charged gas pocket ejection’.”
“Ah know, Professor,” Bootylicious says with a sigh. “Ah know… mah powers are strange, and maybe even a little gross, but Ah intend to use them for the good of the world, and one day join the X-Men!”
“That’s very noble,” Henry replies, smiling faintly. “I’m sure you’ll make a… tremendous addition to the team in the future.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Bootylicious says appreciatively. “So, is there anything else?”
“No, no, I believe we’re done,” Henry informs as he stands from his seat. Bootylicious wobbles around for a minute as she tries to get to her feet, then rises off the couch slowly, blushing at Henry.
“It was very nice talking with you,” Henry says, offering a paw to the young girl. Her pudgy hand takes it and gives it a firm shake, then Bootylicious begins her trek away from the couch and towards the door of Henry’s office.
Henry sits down once more and stares blankly into space for a few moments, pondering the wisdom of re-opening the doors of the Xavier Institute. Of course there are many young mutants who need help learning to control their powers, and that’s the main function of the institute. Henry, though, is rather stunned by the variety of new and interesting powers that some of these students possess.
They sure don’t make mutants like they used to.
The War Room
Standing inside the conference room that resides on the first sub-basement level of the Xavier Institute, Jean Grey-Summers faces another female about ten feet away from her; however, this other woman is not truly here, rather her form is being holographically projected from millions of light years away. Her name is Lilandra, and she is the Majestrix of the alien Shi’ar Empire.
For the past twenty minutes or so, the two women have been talking, catching up, and relaying recent events that have occurred at their opposite ends of the universe. Jean thought the X-Men’s recent struggle with the Friends Of Humanity was intense, then she heard Lilandra’s tale of a near-successful insurrection of the Shi’ar Empire from within; she jokes to herself that it’s one of very few times that Lilandra hasn’t called upon the X-Men for aid in such a situation.
[The connection is getting weak, Jean,] Lilandra says, her voice becoming less clear thanks to interstellar static, [but before we say goodbye, I have something else to tell you. For some reason, it slipped my mind earlier.]“Oh?” Jean inquires. “What’s that?”
[My nephew, Adam… your husband’s younger half-sibling,] Lilandra states, as Jean’s eyes widen in astonishment. [He is here with me. He said you’d probably be wondering where he disappeared to and asked me to relay this message to you.]Jean smiles at the good news. “I’m glad to hear it, and Scott and Alex will be happy to know that their brother’s alive and safe. Thanks for letting me know.”
[You’re welcome. And I’m sorry we can’t speak some more, but the connection *skkk* about to give way. I must go,] Lilandra says, disappointed. [Please *skkk* if *skkk* hear *skkk* Charles *skkk* let me…]The holographic image of Lilandra becomes distorted and eventually fades completely as her voice is drowned out by the static. Jean keeps her gaze where it is, though, and she says, “Yes, Lilandra, I’ll be sure to let you know if I hear from Charles…”
“Hey Jeannie,” comes a gruff voice from the doorway.
“Ah, you’re here,” Jean says, happy but a bit startled, as she turns to see the man named Logan walking towards her. “A little early, too. I…”
Jean goes mute and her eyes widen in surprise as her gaze falls on her longtime friend and teammate. He’s not looking like himself… he looks older. Much older. His hair is starting to gray, wrinkles have formed on his face, small bags appear under his eyes, and he seems to have lost a significant amount of weight. Astonished and concerned, Phoenix walks swiftly to his side and places a helping hand on his back.
“Logan, you look… terrible,” she says as she maneuvers him towards a seat at the conference table. “What happened to you?”
“Near as I can tell, my healin’ factor’s about worn out,” Logan responds as he and Jean both take a seat. “Everything I’ve ever done, ever had done to me… not t’mention all the smokin’ and drinkin’… it’s all hittin’ me now. I’ve aged about twenty-five years in the past couple months.”
“How is this possible?” Jean inquires, puzzled beyond belief. “It was more like a disease the last time this happened, but you got better. Storm told me she saw you shortly after Charles disappeared and that you were fine.” She pauses for a minute to catch her breath, then adds, “Besides, mutant powers don’t just ‘wear out’…”
“Once you hit my age, they do,” Logan replies with a chuckle, a slight grin forming on his face. “That’s why I’m here, though.”
“You need our help, of course. I’m glad you didn’t try to play the tough guy and…”
Logan raises a hand to stop his teammate. “That ain’t it. I don’t need any ‘help’… I’m not sick like the last time, I’m just gettin’ old.” Jean sighs discontently at the comment, but realizes that he does appear to be in good enough health. He continues, “I’m here because… well, I don’t really know how much longer I got left, Jeannie. The agin’ process seems to have stopped fer the meantime, but who knows when it’ll be startin’ back up again. I been thinkin’ a lot while this has been goin’ on, and decided that I don’t wanna waste whatever life I have left bein’ alone.”
“But you’re not alone,” Jean cuts it. “You have Elektra. And even so, you’re always welcome here… we’d love for you to come home.”
“Eh, me an’ Elektra had to go our separate ways, quite a while ago. Please don’t ask any questions. Let’s just say we had a conflict o’ interests.” Jean can sense the pain in Logan’s voice as he speaks of his ex-wife, and her heart sinks; she’s always wanted him to be happy, and it seemed he had finally found that happiness when he married Elektra. She knows instinctively that Elektra miscarried their children, and that it must have served as the catalyst for their split.
“Gettin’ back to my point here… I don’t wanna waste the rest of my life. I’ve never had to think about anything like this before… I guess, deep down, I had the idea that’d I’d be around forever, so in that respect I never paid enough mind to what really mattered. Kinda funny, I feel like I’ve matured at the same time my body’s been gettin’ old. I decided I not only wanna spend the rest of my days here… but, if you’ll have me, I’d like to pass what I have to offer onto the new kids you guys’ve brought in. I wanna be a teacher.”
Jean’s face lights up and she smiles; she never thought that Logan of all people would want to be a teacher, but then again, maybe she doesn’t know the man as well as she thinks. “That’d be wonderful, Logan. I’d be honored. All of us would be.”
Logan returns Jean’s smile as the beautiful redhead moves in to give him a hug. The two embrace for a few short moments, both glad to now be back in each other’s company full-time. Jean is especially excited, as she can’t help but feel a great weight lifted off her shoulders. With Logan helping to run the school, she’s confident that things will become a lot less stressful not just for her, but for everyone.
“Now then,” Logan says as he pulls away from Jean, “what’s been goin’ on with you? I ran into Dani on my way down here, she said you’ve been workin’ way too hard.”
Suddenly a bit flustered, Jean replies, “Oh, you know, I’ve just been trying to get everything in order, what with all the new students coming in, and then re-organizing the teams, and trying to find Charles, and…”
“Whoa, slow down.” Logan is concerned, as he’s never seen Jean in this condition before. He sensed something was up with her the minute he walked into the room, but now it’s showing on her even more. She seems very stressed… tired… on edge. Her scent’s changed, too, and that makes him uneasy, as it seems to tell him that she’s become more uninhibited. With the powers she wields, that could be a very bad thing.
“You need to stop overworking yourself, Jeannie.”
“But there’s so much to do…”
“And you’re not the only one capable of handling all of it. Hank, ‘Ro, Scott, me… we’re here too. Don’t feel like you’re all alone in this.”
“Oh, Logan… I know I’m not. It’s just…” Jean stops herself. She doesn’t really know what to say; there are things going on that she doesn’t even understand, others that she can’t tell anyone about, not even her own husband. Catching herself in her thoughtful silence, Jean quickly says, “You’re right, Logan. I… I’ve been burning myself out. Maybe I need to be more trusting of the others to help run things.”
“That’s exactly it,” Logan says with an approving nod. “So this is what I want you to do: go take a break. Relax. Get yourself something to eat, take a bubble bath… just do something that ain’t work.”
“Well, I’m supposed to have a telepathic conference with Scott, Ororo, and Kwannon later on… but I suppose until then…”
“Go on an’ get outta here already.”
“Alright,” Jean says as she stands from her seat and starts towards the door. She stops before she reaches the exit and inquires, “What about you? Maybe we can have lunch?”
“I’m actually gonna hit the Danger Room fer a bit… but how about dinner tonight? You, me, Scott, ‘Ro, an’ everybody… the whole gang.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jean smiles once more at Logan before exiting the room.
Logan rises from his chair as the door slides shut behind Jean, and an uneasy look crosses his face. She’s keeping something from him – from everyone – and one way or another, he’s going to find out what it is.
Worthington International
A lone man stands at the lobby window on the top floor of the forty-story-high tower that is the main headquarters of Worthington International. As he looks out over the busy city of New York, his large, white wings softly rustle behind him, and the sun glows on his indigo blue skin. This is perhaps the first time he’s been out in public as Warren Worthington III rather than the X-Man called Archangel and not bothered to hide his most obvious physical mutations. Things have changed, and he’s no longer going to hide what he is; rather, he’s going to celebrate it.
“M-Mister Worthington?” The shaky male voice comes from behind Warren, and he turns to see a young blond-haired man in his mid-twenties approaching him. “Sir, Miss Bennett will see you now.”
“Thank you, Marshall,” Warren says with a nod, choosing to ignore the young man’s gawking. He knows it’s been a bit jarring for all of his old employees to see him like this, his blue skin and feathered wings exposed and all, but it’s been a very liberating experience. Besides, that harness always hurt like hell.
Stepping away from the window, Warren turns to the tall mahogany doors leading into his former office. He walks a mere twenty feet before reaching them and pushes them open, his eyes immediately falling on the petitie Asian woman sitting behind his old desk. He turns to close the doors behind him then approaches the desk as the woman rises from her seat.
“Melissa,” Warren says, his tone hinting that he’s still holding a bit of a grudge.
“Warren, lovely to see you,” Melissa Bennett responds in her usual over-the-top voice, extending her hand to her guest. “My my, looking quite marvelous these days, I must say.”
“Cut the crap,” Warren snaps at her, not bothering to shake her hand. “I know full well why you called me here and honestly, I don’t know why I keep answering your cries for help.”
“Of course you do,” Melissa says as she sits back down and motions for Warren to do the same. “It’s because no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise, you still care about this company. You still care what happens to it. Your name’s even still on it.”
“Only because the board wouldn’t let you change it. What do you want?” Warren asks, cutting to the chase and not wanting to waste anymore time.
Melissa sighs, seeing her attempts at being overly friendly are in vain. Leveling her tone and taking a more serious demeanor, she answers, “I need your help… obviously. The board is breathing down my neck… they say my performance as CEO isn’t up to snuff. The stock value isn’t climbing as high as we’d hoped… and a lot of these newer, more ‘compact’ corporations are quickly rising up and gaining prominence in the business world. I need to do something, I need a new campaign, even a new product, something that will take the world by storm and make us the top dog again.”
“And what would happen if you don’t shape up?”
“Well… the board might opt to elect a new CEO.”
“Ah, another one voted off the island. Join the club.”
“Warren, please,” Melissa pleads, seeming more desperate than before. “I’m serious. And I know you still hold a grudge over what happened…”
“Over ‘what happenned’? You mean how you bribed half the board to kick me out of my own company?” Warren says coldly, remembering the day clearly in his mind. Of course it wasn’t Melissa who was ultimately responsible for him being booted out… Charles Xavier had that honor. Nonetheless, Melissa put the whole thing into motion, but now that she has what she always wanted, she can’t handle it. How ironic.
“Don’t say another word until I’m done,” Warren says as Melissa begins to open her mouth. “Now, there’s really no reason why I should help you, not after the shit you’ve pulled. You’re right, though, this is my company, it always will be, and no matter who’s running it and even whose name is on it, I’ll always care what goes on here. I don’t really understand why you need me so badly… but if I do this, then it’s on my terms.”
“And what exactly are your terms?” Melissa inquires.
“First off: I have some associates who are looking for jobs. I want them hired.”
“Well, who are they? Do they have any experience? What can they do?”
“You don’t need to know all the details, but I’m certainly going to need some assistants.”
“Assistants? Warren…” Melissa stops herself to think, and realizes that she needs to comply with the man if she wants him onboard. Plus he’ll essentially be back working here, so why not have a few assistants?
“Alright, consider it done.”
“Wow, you must really need me this time,” Warren quips, a grin crossing his face. “Not even a word of dispute.”
“That’s because, as I suppose you were going to demand anyway, you’ll more or less be back here with the company – if you agree with my idea,” Melissa says, motioning for Warren to let her finish. “I would like you back with the company, Warren. Back here doing what you do best… as my fellow CEO.”
Warren’s eyes widen in disbelief as the words flow from Melissa’s mouth to his ears. “What did you just say?”
“I said I want you to run this company with me, Warren,” Melissa reiterates, neatly folding her hands in her lap. “I have an idea, a rather large one… but it won’t work without you. Not at all. You can probably help make it even better than I could ever envision.”
His curiosity piqued, Warren simply says, “Go on.”
“The world’s changing very rapidly these days, as you obviously know, particularly when it comes to the mutant population.” Melissa stops for a second to study Warren’s magnificent wings; for a reason she can’t explain, his appearance hasn’t stirred her in the least. Rather, it’s inspired her. “Relations between humans and mutants are on the upswing. I think this is something we can work with.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Warren says, “You’re talking like I’ve already signed on.” Melissa smiles coyly at him, and he sighs, knowing that she’s close to hooking him. “What are you getting at here?”
“Mutants provide a growing market, my dear Mister Worthington, a market that masses of envious human beings will be clamoring to be a part of. I say we take full advantage of this, we set our sights on the new world and help lead the consumers of today into tomorrow. We have the money and resources… now all we need is something that will garner mass appeal, something that will blow away anything and everything that’s ever been done before.”
“You want to exploit mutants?” Warren asks, slightly irritated at what he believes he’s hearing. “You’re losing me here, Miss Bennett.”
“Not at all, Warren!” Melissa exclaims, somewhat offended, as she rises from her chair and walks around to the other side of her desk. “Exactly the opposite. I want to help bring them into society, truly incorporate them into the human world… and I have so many ideas flowing through my head, it’s about to explode! You, being a mutant, and being the businessman that you are… I can’t think of anyone better suited for this task.”
“At least you didn’t call Sebastion Shaw,” Warren mutters under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know… this is all sounding a bit too… spectacular.” Warren stands and walks over to the window, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know if the world’s ready for something like you’re proposing.”
“And since when have you been detered by what people might think? Of course the world isn’t ready for it… but when will they ever be if no one gives it a shot? The time is now, Warren… this window of opportunity isn’t going to be open forever. What do you say?” Melissa walks over to stand beside Warren, and he looks down at the woman from the seven inches in height he has on her. “Are you ready to evolve the business world?”
Turning his body to face her, Warren holds out his hand, and Melissa takes it, giving it a firm shake. “Alright, Melissa… let’s see if we can make this work.”
Chapter 3
Storm steps in front of Angela, who still sits on the couch in shock. The X-Man stands tall against the three men in black, her expression angry and intimidating. “I will not say it again,” Storm says in her sultry, commanding voice. “Put your weapons down.”
“And I’m not going to ask again,” the man at the head of the trio says, “where’s the boy?”
As if on que, Trey comes running into the room, filled with excitement. “Mama!” he shouts as he runs to his mother, not even noticing the three armed men. “I packed! Are we go soon?”
“Alright, we got him, let’s just teleport out of here now, Dixon,” the leader says, slightly turning his head to the man at his left.
“No can do, Vaughn,” Dixon responds. “The device isn’t working… it’s being disrupted by some electrical current in the air.”
Vaughn turns to Storm, who he deduces is the cause of the current. “Well then,” he says, raising his weapon to the regal woman, “we’ll just have to get rid of it.”
The weapon fires silently but the bullet’s impact is another story. The plasma discharge hits Storm with such force that she goes flying through the air and smashes through the apartment window, apparently falling four stories to the ground outside and below. Trey screams and grabs onto his mother and Angela looks on in horror at the display. Now what will she do? She can’t let these men take her son.
While Dixon goes over to the window to locate Storm, Vaughn and the other man make their way over to Angela and Trey. “Your son, Miss Molton.”
“Over my dead body!” Angela snaps back, frightened yet filled with rage. “You just back off! You’re not taking my son anywhere! GET OUT OF MY HOME!”
Both men cock their guns and aim right at Angela’s head. “Over your dead body, huh?” Vaughn says. “We didn’t want it to come to that… but if you insist. Bristow, take the boy.”
As Bristow reaches for Trey, who’s holding onto his mother for dear life, Dixon suddenly calls out to his companions. “Uh, guys… she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Vaughn says, both him and Bristow now turned toward Dixon. “She should be a splat on the pavement.”
“Well she’s not,” Dixon informs, “and the device still isn’t working.”
Before the three men can put two and two together, a fierce wind roars into the apartment, and all five individuals inside of it are pulled outside through the window. Angela gasps and holds Trey tighter than ever as they’re scooped up by the breeze along with Trey’s would-be abducters.
“HOLY SHIT!” Dixon yells out as he and his teammates are lifted high into the air; the surprise of the attack causes all of them to drop their weapons. Angela and Trey, however, are set safely on the ground, across the street from a crowd of onlookers.
“I will ask this once, and once only,” Storm says to the three men as she continues to lift them higher and higher. “Then I am going to drop you. Who are you, and what do you want with the child?”
Vaughn looks down and deduces that he must be hundreds of feet in the air. His heart skips a beat as he thinks about falling all that way. Still, he will not let his fear take over; he’s not going to say anything. Not a word.
“Go ahead and drop us, we’ll see how all those people down there react when they see a mutant kill three people in cold blood,” Vaughn says, taunting his adversary. “Not to mention your teammates may not be too happy about that… except of course maybe Wolverine, he’s into that sort of thing.”
Storm furrows her brow in a mixture curiosity and frusteration; how does this man know these things about the X-Men? Is this an enemy they’ve faced before? If it is, he and his colleauges are completely unrecognizable to her. She can’t stay airborn all day and try and figure this thing out, though… she just needs to make sure these men do not succeed in carrying out their mission.
“So what now, oh goddess of the elements?” Vaughn asks, keeping Storm’s attention on him as Dixon fidgets with the teleportation device. “You just gonna keep us up here all day?”
“No.” With that, the wind keeping the three men aloft suddenly dissipates, and they begin plummeting towards a large mass of bushes below that Storm just positioned them over. There will be bruises and broken bones, most certainly, but it’s no less than they deserve.
However, about fifty feet before they hit the ground, the trio suddenly vanishes into thin air, literally fading out of sight. Storm is angered by their getaway, but immediately her thoughts turn back to Angela and Trey, who are both safe and on the ground much to her relief. Storm lowers herself to the earth and approaches the young woman and her son.
“Are you all right?” Storm asks, and Angela nods her head.
“I’m fine… shaken up, but okay,” Angela responds. She holds Trey in her arms and he has his head rested on her shoulder, but he’s not crying. “What happened?”
“It appears the men figured out that there was no way I was going to let them take your son,” Storm answers. “But you are not safe here anymore. I think it best that we leave right away.”
Angela sighs and nods in agreement. This is it, then; her home, her education, her job, her life, not to mention that of her son… it’s all over now. Or maybe not necessarily over, but definitely changed. She has a feeling that nothing is ever going to be the same for her again.
Before heading back into her apartment with Storm to gather some things, Angela turns and looks around at all the people staring at her. She can see shock, amazement, fear, hatred… a variety of emotions from a variety of people. It’s at this moment she realizes that this place can no longer be her home… at least not for a long time.
Yep, things are definitely going to be a lot different from now on… big time.
New Harmony
As dark, thick smoke billows up through the cracks in the floorboards, the young man named Ivan stands still and bluntly assesses the situation. “We’re all going to die.”
“No we’re not,” Anna says, and she takes Ivan’s hand and leads him to one of the nearby windows. She breaks it with a swift, powerful kick and jumps through, landing outside on the desert ground below. She shouts up to him, “Ivan, jump! I will catch you!”
Scott gives the hesitant young man a reassuring look as he asks, “Your sister with you?” to which Ivan replies, “Yeah.” Without a second thought, Ivan jumps through the window and sure enough, he lands safely in Anna’s arms.
“Will you catch me too?” Scott calls down to his teammate, who chuckles at his humor. “Alright, step back, I’m coming down.”
Not being trained in martial arts to the extent that Anna is, Scott uses a different method to get to the ground safely: he jumps out of the window and shoots a small beam of optic energy downward, slowing his descent and resulting in him landing safely on his feet. Once down, he moves away from the house, motioning for the others to follow. The flames engulf the small home more and more as the mutants make their way to the front side of the house and head towards the car that brought the two X-Men here.
Scott and Anna stop dead in their tracks before they reach the Benz, though, as their eyes land on a group of five men and women who are, from the looks of it, responsible for the fire. One of the females holds a blow torch in her hands, and the rest hold a variety of other weapons ranging from guns to knives to electric shock clubs. All of them are dressed in white sanitation gear, with see-through helmets covering their heads.
“See? I told you burning the house down wasn’t going to work!” the woman with the blowtorch exclaims. “The X-Men are trained professionals, you dip!”
“Shut up and attack!” yells one of the men, who goes at Scott with his shock club.
The first X-Man wastes not a second and retaliates before the man gets within ten feet of him. Cyclops narrows his naked eyes and lets loose a series of small optic ‘bullets’, each striking the ground near the group of antagonists and causing tiny tremors. The five individuals are startled and they scatter, giving Cyclops and Kwannon more of an edge in the not-so-unfair fight.
“Scott, what about the children?” Kwannon yells over to her teammate as she hides Ivan behind her. “We can’t leave them unattended!”
“Stay with them, I think I can handle these morons on my own,” Cyclops says as he charges at one of the men, who holds a knife. Kwannon wants to object, but she knows that Ivan and Natalia cannot be left unattended, and that protecting them is one way of defeating this enemy. She watches as her teammate takes a swing at his attacker and socks him real good right in the jaw, causing the man in the hazard suit to fall to the ground, unconscious.
“Sometimes that way’s just more fun,” Cyclops says to himself as three more of the goons approach him. The woman with the blowtorch and two men with shock clubs surround him in a triangle formation, none of them believing the first X-Man will be able to get himself out of this one. How wrong they are.
“If you freaks give up now, we just might kill you quickly,” the woman with the blowtorch says. “You don’t want the kids to burn in agony, do you?”
“Of course not,” Cyclops responds nonchalantly. He lets out a sigh as he glances around at the three surrounding him, shaking his head as if in disappointment.
“What?” asks the woman, who’s becoming increasingly impatient. One has to wonder why she doesn’t just fry Cyclops and get it over with.
“Nothing,” Cyclops answers before opening his eyes wide and letting out a powerful optic blast, hitting the woman with the blowtorch right in her midsection and sending her flying backwards about thirty feet. It doesn’t stop there, though, as Cyclops spins around in an arc and takes down the two others surrounding him. They too hit the ground and lay there with their apparent leader, all unconscious. Upon surveying his work, Cyclops immediately turns his attention to Kwannon, who holds one of their attackers by the arm.
“There was still one left, I took care of her,” Kwannon says. “She does not seem to want to be able to talk. Maybe you’ll have some luck?”
Cyclops steps forward and takes hold of the woman by her shoulders. “Who are you people? Why are you trying to kill these children?” The woman is a bit woozy, most likely from the beating Kwannon gave her, thus she does not answer. “Dammit, answer me!” Cyclops demands, shaking the woman lightly.
Behind her helmet, the woman’s eyes roll around a little before they lock with Cyclops’. She just stares at him blankly and says, “You all need to die…”
Suddenly, Kwannon places her right index and middle finger on the right side of the woman’s neck, right where it meets the shoulder, and presses down hard. The woman winces and yelps a little as her body goes limp and falls to the ground, out of Cyclops’ grip. He looks up at Kwannon, his expression asking for him what she just did.
“An old trick I learned when I was a child,” Kwannon says, wearing a hint of a grin. “I don’t think any of them are going to talk.”
“You’re probably right.” Cyclops looks past Kwannon to see Ivan standing behind her, his eyes wide with astonishment. “You okay, buddy?” Ivan nods his head and Cyclops smiles at him. He then looks back at Kwannon. “Well, I guess we better…”
Before another word can escape his lips, a soft hum can be heard in the area, and suddenly there are six bright flashes of light, one right at Cyclops and Kwannon’s feet. They look down to see the light engulf their downed attacker, and turn to see that these lights have done the same to the other four.
Cyclops can only sigh in frusteration. “For crying out loud,” he says. “Seems like everybody has a damn teleportation service except us.”
“I’m surprised, considering that the weapons and suits they had weren’t exactly hi-tech. They didn’t have a vehicle of their now, though,” Kwannon adds in. “Now what?”
Cyclops turns and starts on his way towards the Benz, which surprisingly doesn’t have a scratch on it. “I guess all we can do is head home. Come on,” he says, motioning for Kwannon and Ivan to follow him.
Cyclops gets in the driver’s seat and starts the engine, while Kwannon gets Ivan buckled up in the backseat. “You’re safe now, those people aren’t going to hurt you,” she says dotingly.
“We’re going to the mansion now?” Ivan asks, his tone layered with excitement.
Kwannon nods. “We are.” Before she closes the door, she asks him, “Your sister… she’s invisible… but she’ll still need a seatbelt…”
“No,” Ivan tells her. “She’s in here.” He points to his head as the last word escapes his mouth.
Kwannon smiles at the boy again before closing the door and heading around to the front passenger’s seat. Her smile turns to a frown and her heart sinks as more and more memories come back to her. She can’t believe how this experience with the children has hit her; she’s supposed to be stronger than this. She won’t let her true feelings show, though… she’s going to push her pain to the side, for the children’s sake.
“Alright,” Cyclops says as he puts the car into drive, “time to blow this joint.”
The Astral Plane
Five figures stand in a circle, seemingly levitating inside a space – a room? – that isn’t actually there. Glowing symbols and objects adorn the backdrop as a private telepathic conference gets underway. Beast, Storm, Cyclops, and Kwannon have had their minds pulled from their bodies and presently give their full attention to this meeting’s moderator, Phoenix.
{Sorry to pull you all here so abruptly, I just wanted to catch up on everyone’s situations and also give you some updates of my own.}
{Well I suppose I’ll begin, then. I’ve completed conducting my orientations with all of the new students, at long last. We have approximately ninety-seven young mutants now occupying our hallowed halls, and I must say that many of them possess rather… unique abilities.}
{I assume the teaching staff is in place as well?}
{Indeed it is, Jean. Robert, Danielle, Alex, Cameron, Kurt, and surprisingly one Miss Carmella Unuscione are ready to begin classes next week. I’ve already talked with the rest of you, the only person I’ve yet to get an answer from is Warren.}
{Add Logan to the staff list, Hank. He’s back at the mansion as of today.}
{How is he, Jean?}
Phoenix is unsure of how to answer that one; she doesn’t want to get into Wolverine’s condition right now. So she’ll be vague for the time being, and let the man tell his friends at his own convenience.
{He’s glad to be home, Ororo, and excited to see you all. Now I hate to change the subject so abruptly, but before you guys tell me how your missions went, I also want to mention that I had a brief talk with Lilandra earlier. Scott, we know where your brother is, he’s in space with his aunt.}
{What? How the heck did Adam go from tracking me in Russia to Shi’ar space?}
{I didn’t get any details, but at least now we know he’s safe. Just thought you should know. Now onto business here… what happened in Atlanta, Ororo? Did you find the girl?}
{I found the young woman, yes… her name is Angela, and she has a four year-old son named Trey. They are with me and are safe. She has agreed to come to the mansion, though we encountered a bit of an obstacle before getting on the road.}
{What happened?}
{Three men showed up and attempted to kidnap her son. They did not succeed. But they seemed to know who I was and of the X-Men. All I can tell you is that they had rather advanced weaponry and were dressed completely in black. I am sorry I do not have more for you.}
{Strange, Scott and I encountered opposition as well… five men and women with electric shock sticks and blowtorches. They apparently wanted to kill the children we went to find, but we took care of them.}
{Are the children safe?}
{Yes, Anna and… Kwannon and I have them. They’ll need some medical attention when we get back to the mansion, they’re both malnourished and have a lot of bruises on their bodies. Their parents really did a number on them.}
{Certainly Cecilia or myself will attend to them. In fact, as soon as we’re done here, I’ll send Danielle and Cameron in the Blackbird to pick…}
{Already done, Hank.}
{…Thank you, Jean. Now, something else I was going to say… it’s curious that both missions were compromised at the same time, even if seemingly by different perpetraters… and it’s unfortunate we don’t have anything to go on with these people other than physical descriptions.}
{We’ll figure something out, we have to. These people could be terrorizing more children and we’re not even aware of it. And while we’re on the subject, I’ve got something else I want to throw in here before we finish up… I haven’t been able to get ahold of anyone at the Massachusetts Academy for weeks now, and I think it’s time that we go in and find out what’s going on. Apparently Sean left with Moira, I tracked them both to Ireland, but I’m not picking up any bio-signatures or thought patterns at the school… I’m getting worried.}
{I can head over there after I get back, Jean.}
{We’ll figure it out when you’re home, honey. Don’t worry about it right now.}
A brief silence fills the plane before the meeting officially comes to a close.
{I guess that’s it, then… we’ll see you all when you get back. Meeting adjourned.}
Epilogue 1
The pictures show a variety of individuals draped in rather colorful outfits, ranging from a group of teenagers all wearing the same standard blue and gold to shots of a white-haired African woman with a tiara, to a fuzzy, blue, demon-looking man wearing black and red, to a purple-haired Japanese woman wearing body armor to match her locks. The old woman smiles as her eyes study the pictures, and she moves around the room, taking a last glance at all the glorious children of the atom before she departs this place for good.
She’s finally going home.
The woman comes to a complete stop when she arrives at a particular picture, that of a bald man, perhaps a bit younger than her, but not much. Her smile turns almost wicked as she narrows her eyes, locking them with those staring back at her from the picture. “I’ve held out long enough, Charles. It’s my turn now.”
She moves to the picture directly to the left of the one of the bald man and her expression becomes gentler, almost motherly, as she places a frail hand over it, gazing at the congregation of costumed mutants. “At long last, children,” she says, “Professor X is coming home.”
Epilogue 2
She really hates this. She hates lying to her husband and her closest friends, and she hates always being the one with the burden of keeping secrets. In fact, the first time she ended up more or less scamming the X-Men alongside Charles Xavier, it was right here in the room on the other side of the monolithic door before her. Ever since the X-Men’s encounter with Onslaught, the Z’Noxx Chamber has been almost forgotten, up until recently. Something of immense importance has come up, and now the chamber serves the needs of Jean’s operation perfectly, being the ultimate impenetrable fortress and all.
Pushing thoughts of guilt and doubt out of her mind, Jean finally arrives at the door, which towers over a hundred feet above her. Using her telekinesis, she pries it open from the middle, just enough for her to fit through the crack. She seals the door behind her, and lowers herself to the floor as she looks around the room for a moment. It’s nearly five hundred feet in diameter, and reaches upwards almost two hundred feet; the walls are barren, simply layered with a special titanium alloy that was specifically designed to shield the sanctum from any and all outside telepathic forces. In the middle of the room lie machines, formed into a large circle; they are odd-looking machines that are like nothing else on the upper levels of the mansion’s underground wonderland. Some of the things in this room might even make Shi’ar technology look primitive.
Making her way towards the middle of the room, Jean notices two transparent containment pods lying at the center of the sphere of machinery. In one of the pods lays a young woman, looking to be in her early twenties, with short blonde hair and crimson red armor covering most of her body; the other pod contains a most strange looking man, a straight jacket and white pants covering his body and a frightening iron helmet covering his head. He must be the new arrival, Jean thinks.
“Ah, Jean, there you are… I was beginning to think you may not come tonight,” comes an old man’s voice. Jean looks around and finds that the voice is coming from a nearby computer console; the individual sitting in the chair in front of it is blocked from her view, but of course she knows who he is.
“Sorry I’m late, I had to put Rachel back to sleep, it took me a bit longer than I expected,” Jean replies, turning back to the strange man in the pod she stands by. “So who’s our new friend?”
“I happen to be running an analysis on him right now,” the old man begins to reply, diligently working away at the computer. “He apparently has no name… at least not that I’m aware of. Nathan liberated him from an underground government facility in mainland China. He was in a coma when he arrived here… or at least that’s how he seemed to be. His condition hasn’t changed a bit. I tried scanning his mind, but it’s like there’s nothing there. Initial scans show there’s a microscopic sun where his brain should be, and his energy readings are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s quite fascinating, I’d be most excited to study him for leisure if not for his reason for being here.”
“Not to mention he’s a man, not a science project,” Jean quips, placing a bare hand on top of the glass shielding of the unnamed man’s pod. She initiates her telepathy, hoping to have better success than her companion at picking up a mental signature; no such luck. It’s true, it’s as if he has no mind at all.
“I know, Jean, and I’m sorry if I sound cold,” the man says apologetically. “But I do in fact have to find out as much about him and especially his abilities as possible. We’re going to have to rely heavily on him when the time comes, and that also means knowing exactly what he can do.”
“He’s not the only one.” Jean moves her attention to the other pod, fixing her eyes on the young woman contained within. The sight of the blonde unnerves her; the girl once tried to kill Scott and Ororo, and Charles. Jean’s done it before, but she decides to voice her concerns again, if only to relieve a bit of her tension. “You know, some of the people on this new ‘list’ of yours…”
“You know as well as I that the Twelve that Pryde gleamed from Nathan’s mind were mostly inaccurate… a failsafe, should Apocalypse have captured Nathan and been able to mentally probe him. The true chosen may not be entirely to either of our likings, but they are the chosen nonetheless, and once they all realize the gravity of the situation this world will find itself in, I have no doubt that all of them will put aside their petty ideals and grudges to help us.”
“You’re right… I guess I just can’t help but be a bit pessimistic,” Jean says with a sigh. “I never thought there could be a bigger threat to the world than anything it’s seen so far… it’s scary, to be honest. And I hate being in the middle of it.”
“As do I… but this is our destiny, Jean. Unfortunately, life is not usually what we want it to be, particularly for people in our unique situations. It’s a burden we must bear… for the sake of all that is.” The man’s voice oozes with wisdom and confidence, but his words are not enough to eradicate the ever-present fear and disdain lingering in Jean’s mind. All he can do is be there for her, counsel her, reassure her that things will be fine, as long as the two of them do what they’re supposed to.
“I understand,” Jean states, nodding her head while moving her gaze back to the man in the pod. “And thank you, I appreciate all the work you’re doing. I know I don’t act like it, but I’m honored that you trust me with all of this. I just wish I could tell Scott and the others.”
“In time, Jean,” the man promises. “For now, though, what we’re doing must stay completely between you, Nathan, and myself. We can afford no variables being thrown into the equation.”
“And you know I won’t jeapardize any of this by telling them.”
“Of course, that’s why I trust you so much, Jean.” The man is silent for a moment, halting his conversation to focus more on his work at the computer. Jean looks over at the console that the man sits before, and for the first time tonight she sees him as he swivels around in his chair to face her, looking at her with his large, bug-like eyes. “Go back to your husband… you look tired. If anything comes up, I’ll alert you. Otherwise, I’ll let you know the next time Nathan has stopped in.”
Before turning away and heading back towards the massive door to exit the room, Jean nods appreciatively and responds, “Thank you… and good night, Blaquesmith.”
Follow Nightcrawler and Domino into X-Men 2.0 #1!
NEXT ISSUE: A special issue starring Beast and Cecilia! The two X-Men’s lives are busier than ever since the re-opening of the school and with Cecilia devoting extra time to the hospital, but can they still find time for each other? Perhaps Storm and Iceman can be of some assistance in getting the couple to spend more time together. What awful news could potentially tear their lives apart, though? Plus: the return of Jubilee!
In addition to doing this title, I’m also plotting the X-Men 2.0 series, and even writing issues #1-3. The next couple months will serve to set things up, establish the new “status quo”, bring everyone up to speed, that sort of thing. Of course it could all come crashing down at next year’s end, but you’ll just have to wait and see what’s cooking ^_^ But the thing is, the two core series are going to be very much intertwined from this point forward, and will be crossing over at a couple points during the next year. The best way I can describe the two would be that UXM is like Grant Morrison’s NXM, and XM is like Joe Casey’s UXM. Of course, I would never profess to be at Morrison’s level of talent, but his work has most definitely influenced my ideas and even the way I write. You’ll probably note several things in this issue that are clearly inspired by Morrison… the character of Angela, most obviously, and perhaps a thing or two in the epilogues that I won’t delve into any further just yet ^_^ I’m not going to be ripping anybody off, though… I have my own distinct ideas and direction for this series.
So with that out of the way… well, I guess I should get into clearing some stuff up that may be a tad confusing. First off: yes, there is a “time gap” between this issue and the last. I’d say a month or two. During this time, the school’s reopened, Beast has transformed, and the teams have been shaken up a bit. The cast of this particular series is going to be Beast, Phoenix, Cyclops, Storm, Archangel, Kwannon, Iceman, Cecilia, Bolt, and eventually Jubilee; Angela will also be a regular, plus the charcters of Peter and Cameron. Full house up in here! As for the rest of the X-Men who’ve been around (Nightcrawler, Mirage, Scanner, etc.), you can safely assume that they’ll all be appearing in the other title… with a few surprise characters thrown in! One in particular that I think people will be glad to see back 🙂 Wait and see once X-Men 2.0 #1 gets here, which will be rather soon.
I’m not gonna lie, both series are going to be jam-packed with characters, maybe too many. But there will also be a “house cleaning” over the next year to get rid of some of the riff-raff, X-Men and villains alike. Yes, there will be new and old villains galore, but I promise they won’t suck like the ones from this issue with the sanitation gear and blow torches. I’m sorry, I just needed filler! This issue was really just set-up… it probably should have been more than that, considering it’s an “anniversary” issue and all. All I can say is, though, that this doesn’t even scratch the surface of what’s to come.
Well, I don’t want this to become TOO long… but to close out, all I’ll say is… wait and see. Maybe this didn’t impress you tremendously, but give it some time and I’m sure there’ll be something that strikes your fancy. There’s going to be mind-fucking, adultery, politics, destruction, death, sillyness, a wedding, the return of several major characters, and of course, LESBIANS. Can’t forget the lesbians! They’re the most important ingredient to make anything successful. Trust me, I know these things.
So I think that’s it. For now! You’ll be hearing more of my ramblings after next issue. I have a really bad habit of writing too much in the author’s notes… but, I suppose it’s better than not writing enough, right? Alright, I’m out for now… bye, chilluns!
Oh, and don’t forget the feedback ^_^
~Ryan
December 17th, 2002
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