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- CASSANDRA NOVA
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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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- ICEMAN
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- JUBILEE
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- PROTEUS
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- ANGELA MOLTON
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- SENATOR KELLY
INDEPENDENCE DAY
By Ryan Krupienski
Boston, Massachusetts
He slowly walks with his head hung low, a solemn look on his face. Leaves crinkle beneath his feet with each step he takes, complementing the soft whistle of the breeze that blows through the cemetary. Senator Robert Kelly has been to this place many times, but he’s found that it hasn’t gotten any easier to come here. He still misses his wife dearly, and visiting her grave only serves to drive home the fact that she’s truly gone.
Sharon Kelly has been dead for years, yet her husband still mourns the loss as if it only happened recently. She was the light of his life, his best friend, the only person who was ever really there for him in every sense of the word. Of course, he didn’t realize or appreciate these things until it was too late. He’s regretted since that fateful that he didn’t cherish his wife more. Coming to her grave regularly, while difficult, has helped to wash away some of the guilt. Still, it doesn’t and will never make up for the precious time that will forever be lost.
For a long time, he blamed her death on mutants. To be more precise, he blamed it on the X-Men. They were battling the Master Mold, and the limo that Robert and Sharon were riding in was nearby. Flying wreckage that resulted from the fight demolished their vehicle, and while the Senator made it out alive, his wife wasn’t so fortunate. He blamed the X-Men, for being so reckless, for not caring who or what may be in the way of one of their escapades. He now realizes that really wasn’t the case, but for so long after the incident, he did.
Even before the death of his wife, he hated mutants with a passion. It wasn’t because he thought they were a religious contradiction or genetic abberations, he simply believed that they were too dangerous to run around unchecked. And in many ways, he was right; mutants have caused destruction all around the world, and are still performing terrorist acts to this day. However, it took another kind of terrorist act to finally open the good Senator’s eyes.
The day the Twin Towers fell, Senator Kelly was shocked to learn it was perpetrated by humans. Human beings, killing their own kind, and so many of them. And it was then that he finally realized that mutants are no more dangerous than their genetic predecessors. That, coupled with his wife’s final words, her refusal to blame the mutants for her fate… it all finally broke through to him.
And now here he is today, mere hours away from going to Washington, D.C. to fight for mutant rights. He never imagined in a million years he’d be doing anything of the sort, but stranger things have happened. He’s not sure, though, that he’s the right man for the job… he’s not sure that he’s the best man to represent the human race in this campaign. After all he’s done to try and drive human and mutant apart, can he really turn around and try and bring them together?
Robert stops at the tombstone before him, and tightly cluthes the bouqet of flowers in his hands. He sets them on the ground in front of the carved slab of smokey marble, and kneels down. He tenderly runs his fingers across the embossed letters that spell his wife’s name, and manages a weak smile. “Hello, darling,” he says.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t got much time, but…” He pauses, swallowing back a lump in his throat. “My God, Sharon, you were right.”
“All these years, I wouldn’t listen to the last thing you said to me,” Robert says. “I’ve made a mockery of your memory, and I’m so, so sorry… can you forgive me?”
He pauses again, as if to let his wife speak, and then he smiles. “Yes… of course you can. You could always look past a person’s mistakes, their faults and failures, and see the good in them. You never held a grudge, or considered anyone or anything a ‘lost cause’… you were always warm and compassionate. You nurtured everyone you knew in your own special way. I miss that… I miss it so much.”
His eyes begin to water, and he continues, “I miss you so much. I wish you could be here with me. I wish you could see what I’m about to do.”
“You were right… the X-Men, mutants, they weren’t to blame for your death… it wasn’t their fault. I finally realized that not too long ago,” the Senator confesses. “I’ve changed, Sharon. First, when you died, and then, after September Eleventh…”
Robert holds a hand to his face, a feeling of guilt taking him over. “Why? Why did it take such horrible things… for me to finally see the truth?” he cries. “Maybe if I hadn’t been such a narrow-minded fool… if I hadn’t let myself be controlled by such blind hatred… my God…”
“I never would have dealt with Sebastion Shaw, and maybe… maybe our limo… that night…” A tear escapes from one of the man’s eyes, and he lets it slide down his cheek. “No, no… I’m passed all that. I’m passed blaming anyone. Not the X-Men, not that stupid robot, not even myself.”
Robert stands up, but doesn’t take his eyes off his wife’s grave. “I’m going to Washington today, Sharon. Jean Grey and I, we’re… we’re kicking off the campaign for mutant rights,” he says.
He moves his gaze up into the sky, looking into the clouds floating above him. “And you’ll be there, won’t you?” he says, a content look crossing his face. “I know you will.”
He looks back down at the grave again, then glances behind him at the bodyguard and driver who accompanied him here. The driver nods his head and the Senator realizes it’s time to go. Taking one last look at his wife’s final resting place, Senator Kelly says, “I’ll make you proud. I promise.”
Washington D.C.; The Lincoln Memorial
Inside one of the massive building’s private rooms, Jean Grey stands amidst a conglomerate of security guards and campaign associates. Today is the big day; today is the day she brings the fight for mutant rights to the front burner of America, and the world. She’s understandably nervous but at the same time excited, and especially honored, that she can be the one to do this. She just hopes she can pull it off.
“Of course you can,” comes a deep man’s voice from behind her. Jean turns around and sees Henry McCoy walking towards her.
“Hank, what…?” Jean asks, confused.
“You can do this, Jean,” Henry says with a knowing smile. “Don’t tell me you were thinking about if your hair’s alright just now.”
“You know me too well,” Jean replies, also smiling. “I’m fine, Hank, really. A little nervous, but who isn’t before they give a speech?”
“True enough,” Henry agrees. “It’s quite a crowd gathered outside, I’ll have you know.”
“Good,” Jean says contently. “The more the merrier, right?”
“I suppose so,” Henry says.
“You know, Hank, you really didn’t have to come here today… you should be with Cecilia,” Jean tells him.
Henry nods in agreement. “Yes, I should be… but, she insisted that I be here. This being a monumental day for the mutant race, and myself being one of the best-known mutants in the world… she quite frankly wouldn’t accept my absence from this event. Trust me, I tried convincing her otherwise.”
“What’s the latest news from the doctors?” Jean asks.
“Well,” Henry begins, letting out a small sigh, “she… she needs to have surgery. The chemo-therapy isn’t doing enough, and the doctors believe that the only way they’ll have a chance of getting rid of the cancer is by removing the breast tissue. They’re not even sure that will be enough, though.”
“Oh, Hank…” Jean begins. She reaches out a hand to her longtime friend and slips it into one of his large, blue-furred paws. “I’m so sorry.”
“Well please don’t be sorry for me, Jean,” Henry says, “I’m not the one who’s suffering.”
“Of course you are,” Jean tells him. “And you know if you need anything, you come to me. Alright?”
“Yes,” Henry says. “And thank you.” He pauses for a moment, and takes a good look at Jean, who’s wearing a black pinstripe suit and looking like she’s straight out of the political arena. “You look absolutely magnificent, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Jean says, unable to hold back an appreciative smile. “I’m going to go get some fresh air, I think. Care to join me?”
Henry loops his arm in Jean’s and replies, “I’d be delighted.”
Across the room…
Scott Summers stand silently in a corner of the crowded room, looking around at the myriad of people inside of it. Of all of his fellow X-Men in attendance, he’s the least enthusiastic about this situation. It’s not because he’s not happy that there’s going to be a campaign for mutant rights; he has every confidence in his wife and is proud of what she’s set out to do. He also realizes that this is going to be a very important day, for man and mutant alike.
What unnerves him is that the X-Men are about to go public… and he’s going to be on the front lines of that. He’s Scott Summers, Cyclops, the original X-Man. He’s helped save the world more times than he can remember, and always been spat on for it. Yes, it might be gratifying to know his hard work and sacrifices over the years may actually come to be appreciated by the general public at some point; he just doesn’t want to be a superhero. He’s never wanted to be a superhero. He hasn’t been doing what he does all his life for recognition and praise or anything of the sort. He does it because, in his heart, he feels it’s the right thing to do. And that’s always been enough for him.
“Penny for your thoughts?” comes a woman’s voice from nearby. Scott turns his head and sees Cassandra standing less than a dozen feet away.
“What do you want?” Scott replies coldly, moving his gaze away from the woman.
“Good heavens, Scott,” Cassandra scoffs, “was I not polite enough? What? What is it? What will it take for you to actually like me?”
“For starters, you could disappear,” is Scott’s reply.
“Fine, be that way,” Cassandra says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve only been trying to help.”
“We don’t need your help, Cassandra. We were doing fine long before you came around.”
“Be that as it may, I’m here now. I’m part of the ‘family’, whether you like it or not. I’m Charles’ sister.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing,” Scott replies. “Just because you tell some incredibly well-crafted life story that weaves seamlessly into what we already know about the Professor… it doesn’t prove a thing. I’ll believe you’re his sister when he resurfaces and tells me so.”
“I see,” Cassandra says, raising her eyebrows and nodding. “Because only he can offer you the truth, as he offered you the truth about your deceased son. Correct?”
Scott glares at Cassandra straight in the eye, his resentment showing more than ever. “What the hell do you want?”
Cassandra simply stares back, narrowing her eyes as she responds, “What I’ve always wanted, Scott. To help make the world a better place. I really don’t understand what your problem with me is, you know. What did I ever do to you?”
“It’s what you’re doing to Jean!” Scott snaps, at the same time trying to keep his voice down. “You know the history of her powers, how she’s manifested her Omega-level potential in the past. How it almost destroyed the entire universe! And here she is, on the verge of developing those powers again, and even though the rest of us are freaking out about it with good reason, you’re just egging her on, telling her to cut loose and embrace the change.”
“No, Scott, I’ve not encouraged her in that respect,” Cassandra explains. “But I haven’t discouraged her either.”
“Right…”
“Oh, wait… I see what this is about,” Cassandra says, a look of realization crossing her face. “Yes, yes… you’re angry that I’m supposedly the one pushing Jean to come out of her shell and truly embrace her full potential, not just as a powerful mutant, but as a human being as well. You’re angry because no longer does she come running to you everytime she’s in distress. You don’t have her under your thumb anymore, you aren’t the team captain, the ‘big cheese’… no, Jean’s running the show now, and your male ego is tearing itself apart because you can’t stand it. So another woman – namely me – comes along and joins your wife in her many machinations, and naturally it’s all herfault… yes, yes, it all makes so much sense.”
“You really think you have everyone figured out,” Scott says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think one day, it’s all really going to be yours? The school, the team, the whole operation? Guess again. As long as I’m around, I suggest you watch your back. Very carefully.”
Scott begins to walk away, and Cassandra continues to eye him. Just like Wolverine, Cyclops isn’t being very cooperative. What’s a woman to do?
“As long as you’re around, Mister Summers,” Cassandra mutters to herself. “As long as you’re around…”
The Xavier Institute
It’s about to begin. The biggest event in the history of the mutant race is about to commence, and understandably, the occupants of the Xavier Institute are in a frenzy. It’s an exciting time, and while everyone wishes they could see Jean Grey’s speech in person, it just wouldn’t be very practical to lug two hundred mutant kids to Washington, D.C. for the day.
Most of them are packed into the spacious living room, gathering around the massive television screen as best they can. A good chunk of the students and even some of the X-Men are in the smaller rec rooms, watching from there, but it’s just so much better on the big screen. Classes were cancelled for the day, so some students decided to venture off to other parts, but pretty much everyone at the institute has a vital interest in what’s about to take place.
“Okay, are we set?” comes the voice of Jubilation Lee, who sits on the large couch right in front of the television.
“I think so. Gigantic bowls of popcorn, TV set and ready, everyone’s here…” Bobby Drake looks around at the assemblage of students and then back at his girlfriend. “We’re good to go, babe.”
“Is it starting soon?” Peter Valentino asks, taking a handful of popcorn from one of the bowls in front of him.
“Few minutes,” is Angela Molton’s response. “Now, why do we have popcorn? We’re not at the movies.”
“We have popcorn because I’m hungry,” Jubilee says bluntly. “And I can’t eat it all by myself, so… dig in.”
“I’m glad the students are taking this so seriously,” Anna says, looking over the crowd behind and around her.
“Yeah, wonders never cease…” Bobby starts to say as the announcer on the television begins to introduce the speaker.
“EVERYONE SHUSH, IT’S SHOW TIME!” Jubilee yells out.
“We’re live in Washington, D.C., where history is about to take place… now ready to give her speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, here’s the woman behind the mutant rights campaign, Jean Grey…”
Washington D.C.; The Lincoln Memorial
She stands at the podium sitting upon the bottom steps of the memorial, the microphones in front of her ready to relay her words to the massive crowd of reporters, security guards, and everyday citizens surrounding her. Not since the last time the President himself was here has there been such a large gathering of people. And never before has there been a known mutant giving a speech on these steps, or at any other of America’s important national landmarks.
Jean Grey-Summers is about to make history.
This day has great meaning for her. What she is about to do is something of a culmination of her life’s work, and that of her husband and closest friends. That of her mentor, the man who, for all intents and purposes, saved her life when she was a child. Today, she will fight as she’s never fought before, as she won’t be using her natural abilities of telepathy of telekinesis. Today, the only weapon she has is the power of her voice, and the passion that swells within her heart.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jean says, immediately capturing the attention of every single individual in the vicinity and rendering them silent, “thank you for coming. My name is Jean Grey-Summers, I am headmistress of the Xavier Institute For Higher Learning in Westchester County, New York. I am a mutant.”
Noise errupts from the crowd in the form of common citizens chattering away and news anchors futily throwing out questions that they know will not be answered. Jean stands patiently still at the podium, waiting for the commotion to die down before she continues. She wants, no, demands the respect of not having to raise her voice to talk over a noisey crowd.
“As you know,” she continues as silence once again fills the air, “I am here today to make an important announcement regarding the Mutant Civil Rights Act that was previously announced by my good friend Senator Robert Kelly.” Jean turns her head to her right to glance at the aforementioned Senator, who nods at Jean in acknowledgement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for too long, America – make that the world – has had a horribly negative and horribly wrong view of the mutant race. Nearly fifteen years ago, the man we all know as Magneto introduced humanity to mutantkind when he attacked Cape Citadel in Florida and took hold of a large array of nuclear warheads. Luckily, a band of five mutants – teenagers, I might add – were there to stop him. Five young men and women with their whole lives ahead of them were willing to sacrifice everything they had to stop a terrorist from causing mass destruction to the world. You know those men and women as the X-Men.”
Another very brief rise in the volume of noise, then Jean goes on, “I want you to know, I was one of those five teenagers. At the age of seventeen, I joined the X-Men under the codename Marvel Girl, and used my first power of telekinesis to help stop Magneto that day. Despite that fact, though, that five mutants risked their lives to stop oneterrorist mutant, society at large was quick to judge. At first, it was very mild… we weren’t hunted and killed like we are nowadays. Back then, people were content to chase a mutant down just to scare him. Now, as we saw last year, organizations like the Friends Of Humanity are committing wholesale slaughter against the mutant race, and it’s gotten to the point where my cohorts and I can no longer simply sit around hoping that humanity will come to accept us someday.”
“At the risk of sounding clichéd, I want to tell you all about a dream that has been the driving force in my life for as long as I can remember. The dream is that one day, humankind as a whole will live together in peace. That one day, men will stop judging one another by one’s race, gender, social and economic status, religion, sexual orientation, genetic make-up… the list goes on. The X-Men are the by-product of this dream, and have always strived to bridge the gap between man and mutant by risking our lives to protect a world that fears and hates us against unimaginable threats. Yet, we have always been considered terrorists, and have been accused of trying to wipe humanity off the face of the Earth simply because we’re mutants. That could not be farther from the truth.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today as a representative not only of mutantkind, of the Xavier Institute, and of the X-Men, but as a representative of the human race. I am a wife, and a mother, and I want nothing more than for my family to be safe and happy. I think that’s what we all truly want at the end of the day. I am not saying it is going to be easy, and I’m not saying that all mutants should suddenly be treated with the utmost respect and trust. What I am saying is that the persecution against mutantkind has gone on long enough, and I am proud to be here today, along with Senator Kelly, to officially kick off the campaign for mutant rights.”
Jean stops and looks down at the podium, taking a deep breath as the audience waits anxiously for her to continue. To her surprise, there have been no outbursts against her, no disturbances whatsoever. For that she is thankful, as it gives her reassurance that she doesn’t actually need that this is going to end well, and that people are not only listening to her, but they’re actually hearing her as well.
“Mutants are human beings. We are conceived the same way, we breathe the same air, drink the same water, we have thoughts and emotions and ideas and dreams, and we are growing in number as the years go by. We are not a genetic abberation as some might think, rather we are lucky enough to be blessed with an extra gene that gives us wonderful gifts. Some mutants abuse their gifts, that’s undeniable. We have all seen what mutant terrorists are capable of doing. We have also seen what non-mutantterrorists are capable of doing. Each and every one of us has the capacity for good and evil, but it is not our genetic structure that defines who we are, rather it is the content of our character.”
“For the past few years, this world has been on the brink of a full-blown genetic war between man and mutant, which is why it is most important that steps finally be taken to bridge the gap between our two species that are, in essence, one and the same. We cannot afford to let misunderstanding and fear blind us anymore. We must see past the veil of hatred and look into our hearts to realize what a marvelous future we can build for ourselves if only we can work together. The Mutant Civil Rights Act is but the first of many steps I intend to take to make sure that future comes to pass.”
“Thank you,” Jean concludes, and with that, the crowd begins to roar again. The reporters start spouting off their questions once more and the general crowd breaks out into discussion, as Jean turns to lock eyes with Senator Kelly, who gives her an approving smile and nod. She returns the smile just as she turns back to the crowd, ready for phase two of the press conference.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll now answer as many of your questions as I can before handing the podium over to Senator Kelly,” Jean begins again as her eyes scurry about the reporters at the egde of the memorial staircase. “Yes, go ahead,” she says as she points to a female reporter.
“There are rumors that the Xavier Institute is a training ground for a mutant army. Is this true?”
“A mutant army? No. The institute is and always has been a school, a place where mutants can learn to control their powers so as not to be a threat to themselves or to those around them. Some that we’ve trained have chosen to go back to their normal lives, and they’ve got such control over their powers that their mutation goes unnoticed, but many have joined the ranks of the X-Men at one time or another to fight for our cause. Our main philosophy in teaching mutants about their powers is and always has been that those powers should only be used in ways that will do good.”
“Missus Summers, what can you tell us about the individual members of your team? Do you plan to promote the X-Men as a superhero team like the Avengers, despite the fact that it’s not sanctioned by any federal agency in the United States?”
“That’s quite a loaded question,” Jean says with a slight gasp. “I don’t want this to turn into the first of a series of X-Men promotional tours, because that’s not what this is about.” The comment garners a mellow chuckle from the audience, then Jean continues, “I’ll tell you this about the X-Men: they are not just my teammates, but they’re my closest friends. They’re my family.”
Jean turns around to breifly glance at Hank, then continues, “Doctor Henry McCoy, whom you all know as a world-reknowned geneticist and the former Avengers member codenamed the Beast, is one of my oldest and dearest friends, and was one of the first members of the X-Men just like myself.” She then turns to look at Warren and adds, “I share the same connection with Warren Worthington the Third, codenamed Archangel, who has been in the public eye for years as the CEO of Worthington International.” She returns her gaze to the crowd and ends her answer with, “Again, though, I’m not going to stand here and present all of the X-Men to you, that’s not what I’m here to do. However, general information on our team and our operations can be made available at another time.”
“Missus Grey-Summers, what is the connection between Charles Xavier and the X-Men? Since your team’s home base is in fact his school, and he himself is a world-renowned expert on mutants, does that mean that he’s a mutant himself?”
Jean hesitates for a moment and escapes to her private thoughts. What to say? She has no right to out Charles as a mutant, even after all he’s done to betray her, even though he’s been gone for so long with no sign of popping up anytime soon. Will it benefit the mutant rights movement to reveal the truth, or should she come up with an ambiguous answer and protect her teacher’s identity? Unbeknownst to her, that decision is about to be taken out of her hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I can answer that. Jean, my dear, don’t worry. I’ll handle this one.”
There is an excited gasp that emanates from the crowd as a bald, older woman walks through the crowd, dividing it in two, and makes her way towards the podium. Jean looks at her with wide eyes, as does Senator Kelly, who immediately jumps to his feet and to Jean’s side.
{Cassandra,} Jean says into the older woman’s mind, {what on Earth are you doing?}
{Jean, Charles is my brother, please just let me handle this,} Cassandra replies as she steps up to the podium and motions for Jean to move to the side.
“Jean, what is she doing? This was not part of the plan,” Senator Kelly remarks quietly yet sternly as he sits back down, Jean taking a chair between him and her husband. “What is she going to say? I don’t care if she’s Xavier’s sister, she needs to go, now!”
“Robert, just… wait,” Jean says reassuringly to the man next to her. She’s come to trust Cassandra in the short time she’s known her, and although she’s surprised at the woman’s sudden entrance – hell, she didn’t even realize that Cassandra wasn’t on stage – she’s confident that Cassandra will handle this situation and answer the question in the best way possible.
Jean’s about to find out that her assumption is dead wrong.
“Ma’am, who might you be? A faculty member of the Xavier Institute?” a random male reporter asks.
“I am the headmistress of the Xavier Institute, so I am indeed faculty. My name is Cassandra Nova Xavier,” Cassandra says, earning a collective gasp from the crowd as they note not only her resemblance to Charles Xavier, but the fact that she shares his last name as well. “I believe someone asked a question about… Charles Xavier.”
“Yes! Can you tell us, is he a mutant?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Cassandra begins. She glances over at Jean, then quickly turns back to the crowd and continues, “You see, one could very well say that Charles Xavier is indeed a mutant, but for that to be true, Charles Xavier himself would have to be a real person.”
Jean feels her heart begin to race as the latest words to roll off Cassandra’s tongue penetrate her ears. What is that woman doing? Jean wants to get out of her seat and stop this now, but she won’t. She can’t; neither can her teammates. She can’t explain it, but something feels very wrong here all of a sudden.
“I know this is going to come as a shock to everyone, including my students and colleagues at the school,” Cassandra says as the crowd buzzes loudly with confusion, “but the fact of the matter is that Charles Xavier is not and has never been a real person. Using my mutant power of telepathy, I created a psychic veil around my physical form and hid my true identity from everyone, even my closest friends and family. Charles Xavier is and always has been a cover identity which I intended to use until the day I revealed my true self to the world. I have chosen today as that day, in light of Jean’s remarkable progress in the quest for mutant rights.”
Jean’s mouth drops open in shock, as do those of her teammates and Senator Kelly, and the crowd’s reaction is very similar, though as per the norm, their surprise is accompanied by noise. Jean’s breathing becomes hard and rapid, and she suddenly feels overwhelmed. It takes every ounce of self-control she has to stop herself from confronting Cassandra right here, right now; she refuses to turn this press conference into even more of a sideshow than it’s already become.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I repeat,” Cassandra says in an almost demanding tone, “Charles Xavier is not, and has never been, a real person. I am, and always have been, Charles Xavier.”
The Xavier Institute
Jaws drop and eyes widen as the occupants of the Xavier Institute let out a collective gasp. None of the students are quite sure what to make of what just happened, but the X-Men themselves know there’s bound to be trouble.
What kind of trouble is where the mix-up occurs.
Without warning, the mansion begins to shake, softly at first, then more and more violently as the seconds pass. The students begin to panic and flood out of the living room, accompanied by a handful of their teachers who are doing their best to keep their charges calm. A small cluster of X-Men remain in the room, with intentions to assess the situation.
“Okay, what the hell?” Jubilee says, her voice shaking as a result of the tremor. “Can anybody see anything outside?”
“Nothing!” Anna yells out from near the window.
“Dammit, figures that the mansion would get attacked when most of the big guns are away!” Bobby says. “We need to find Kurt, Bishop, Piotr, whoever’s in the mansion…”
Before Bobby can finish his sentence, all the mansion’s windows shatter, sending shards of glass in every direction. Instinctively, Bobby’s body transforms into ice and he forms a frozen wall around his teammates to protect them. However, it too is shattered in a matter of moments, and the Iceman suddenly falls victim to an unseen attack.
“Bobby!” Jubilee cries out as she runs to his side. As she checks on him, two figures float into the large room.
“What in the world…?” Anna struggles to say, at a loss for words. “Jean?”
“No, not Jean,” the female figure above responds, her long, red hair flailing wildly in the air. “My name is Madelyne Pyror, and the young man with me is Nate. We’ve come for your school.”
NEXT ISSUE: The X-Men are assaulted on all sides as they deal with the fallout from Cassandra’s controversial announcement, and try to fend off the uncontrollable powers of Madelyne Pryor and Nate Grey! Will even both teams combined be enough to stop the raging psionic abilities of two of the world’s most powerful mutants? And who’s really behind their sudden reappearance? Answers and more questions in part one of Into The Light!
Anyway, we’re just about at the first UXM/XM crossover, so sit back, relax, and enjoy. Well, I hope you enjoy! You know, you can always let me know… feedback… pwease 🙂
Okay, I’m out. Peace!
~Ryan
08/17/03
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