Buenos Aires, Argentina

It had been three years now since the volcanic explosion that had erupted in Buenos Aires, killing thousands and mystifying volcanologists the world over. The city was just now starting to be rebuilt, although Amara Aquilla knew for a fact that it would never be the glory that it once was. The cities and factories that had drawn so many to the area were just as destroyed as the homes that littered the hills, hollowed-out shells of the buildings that they once were. That was all Amara’s doing. She had lost control for a single moment, and this destruction, this death…it was all her fault.

She had learned to cope with the fact that she had harmed so many, but it was a work in progress. She suspected, at the back of her mind, that Manuel de la Rocha, the mutant known as Empath (and her current boyfriend) had something to do with the easing of the emotional stress. She had never asked him about it directly, and knew he would tell her that he had nothing to do with her progress if she asked, but the thought remained in her head, especially after the way he had messed with her mind in their youth. Still, she loved him, whether that made her a cliché about abusive relationships or not.

As Amara stood on the hilltop, looking out at the city being rebuilt below her, she felt someone come up behind her. Manuel put his chin on her shoulder and his arms around her stomach. “Are you okay, Amara? I hate to see you so contemplative. So…brooding,” he said softly. “You have done your share of work today. Come inside. Your body needs a rest.”

Amara turned her cheek against his and said, “You know me better than that, Manuel. What is going on?”

Manuel nodded and pulled back. “You have a visitor.” He hesitated. “It sounds like X-Men business.”

“Tell them that I have a new mission, that the X-Men’s problems are no longer my own,” Amara said. She stared back at Buenos Aires. “I have to rebuild the things I have torn down.”

Manuel frowned. “It’s Dani, and it sounds important. She said to tell you that this one is off the radar, that this is something else entirely. She wants you to at least listen to her.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

Amara walked past him at a brisk pace. “Don’t worry. It isn’t your fault my friends don’t know when they’re being rude.”

She took the hill quickly, reaching the modest hilltop house she and Manuel shared. She had made sure that their new home wasn’t too expensive or expansive. Amara walked through the doors that looked out onto the reconstruction project and into her living room, where Dani Moonstar stood waiting. “Danielle,” Amara said smoothly.

“Hey, Amara,” Dani said, reaching out and embracing her old friend. “How is it going, picking up the pieces?”

Amara’s face remained as cold and empty as the face of the crater she had created all those months ago. “It is going as well as it can be expected to go,” she said, holding her voice evenly the entire time. “Government response has been poor, and world aid has been drying up as quickly as the news broadcasts. Seven out of ten American teenagers do not realize the city was even destroyed, and only two of the remaining three who do know this can find Argentina on a map.” Amara took a deep breath. “How do you think it’s going, Dani?”

“Like hell,” Dani admitted. She took a deep breath. “I know that you’re already in a rough position, but I need some help.”

“Dani, thousands and thousands of people need mine,” Amara broke in. “Do you really think your problem demands my presence more than theirs?”

Dani cocked her eyebrow at Amara. “Here’s the deal. ‘My’ problem involves all of life on earth as we know it. ‘My’ problem involves saving the lives of everyone you’re helping here, along with the rest of this continent and, oh yeah, the other six, too. Can I explain why I’m here? I understand that what you’re doing is important, but I’m a pretty good judge of precedence.”

Dani’s words hit hard. Amara’s shoulders relaxed slightly and she led Dani back into her sitting room. They sat on couches that faced each other, and Amara sighed. “I haven’t been kind to you, Dani. Tell me, what is this mission, and why does it require me over anyone with similar powers?”

“It’s not just about powers, Amara,” Dani said. She shifted uneasily in her seat. “It’s about decisions people would make, things they would do, and how far I could trust them. It’s a far cry from your normal mission, and it involves a prophecy.”

Amara nodded at the last bit, much in the same way Roberto had reacted. “I see. Just like old times, then? Flying in blind, while knowing we have to play by someone’s rules anyway?”

“Pretty much,” Dani admonished, grimacing. “Except someone also decided to raise the stakes.”

“They always do,” Amara said, nodding. “When will I be able to know more? Only then can I tell you whether it will be in my power to help or not.”

Dani fished inside her messenger bag, its Indian tassels shaking as the bag opened. When she pulled her arm back out, she held two technologically advanced belts in her hand. “These belts will let you bodyslide—teleport—through our hub in San Francisco. Cable agreed to lend me his tech on this one. This way, you can be here in Buenos Aires, still helping your cause, and only having to come to California when the team needs you.”

Amara nodded. “That’s convenient,” she said. “Does one belt take me there and the other take me back?”

Dani’s eyebrows narrowed in confusion. “Oh, no. The belts go both ways. The other one is for Empath.”

“Manuel has already agreed to help you?” Amara asked, her words laced with skepticism. “I’m surprised, considering your history. You never have trusted him, Dani.”

Dani shrugged. “I don’t have to, Amara. He said he’ll go where you go. He loves you, it seems like, and that’ll have to be good enough for me.” She shook her head and changed the subject. “The meeting will be tomorrow at five in the afternoon on California time. I’ll see you guys there.”

She walked to the doorway, then turned back to where Amara was sitting on the couch. “We’ve really done some odd growing up in these years, haven’t we?” she said almost sadly. Then she stepped backwards and whispered, “Bodyslide by one,” disappearing into the darkening dusk.

WRITTEN IN STONE

Part II: Going Overboard

By Hunter Lambright

The Damocles Foundation
San Francisco, California

Odysseus Indigo’s grasping claws missed Josh Foley’s stomach by millimeters. He was saved only by his gut reaction, and the fact that Indigo seemed too bestial to have accounted for Josh moving out of the way. Indigo grunted. “Lucky move, kid,” he said, “but nobody gets lucky around Odysseus Indigo twice.”

It took Julian Keller’s entire athletic prowess to throw the folded-up cot at Odysseus Indigo. The Deviant swiped the metal cot away, but Julian had bought Josh enough time to expand on the distance between himself and Indigo. “Foley, move!” Julian shouted, pointing toward the door.

Indigo peered at Julian over his sunglasses. “Somebody wants to play at being a hero, eh?” he asked, running his tongue over his pointed teeth. “Never knew you cared, boy. Sounded to me like you two hate each other.” Then he pounced.

“Fuck you,” Julian said, pulling his hand out from behind his back and snapping the broomstick against the side of Indigo’s head. The blow sent Indigo into a row of boxes instead of into Julian’s all-too-vulnerable flesh. Before Indigo could rise to his feet, Josh appeared out of nowhere with a pair of boxes, bringing them crashing down at the base of Indigo’s neck.

“That actually hurt, you snot-nosed brat!” shouted Indigo, pushing himself out of the pile of broken cardboard and office supplies. He pushed his sunglasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. The room was empty. “Where you at, X-Brats?” he cooed, his voice echoing throughout the building. “I’ll show you what happens when you try taking overmy building!”

He advanced into the building from the storage room, peeking into each room as he went and sniffing the air at each one. “Mm, this one smells like fresh meat,” he said at one door, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Unfortunately for you, boys, I can see in the dark.”

Indigo reached out and slashed the air to his right. Julian groaned. The claws had hit their mark, slicing like razors through the skin of his stomach. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m going to gut you like a fish and remind you people why you haven’t heard from me in years—because we stayed out of each other’s ways. Your corpse will remind them that they liked it better that way.”

“Keller!” Josh shouted, tackling Odysseus Indigo off the other teenager. He rammed his knee hard into Indigo’s groin. Indigo didn’t react, rolling with the tackle so that he landed on top when they came to a stop on the ground.

Indigo held his clawed hand back, preparing to air out Josh’s vital organs. “I don’t get it with you X-People, always throwing yourselves in front of a—”

BLAM!

“—hk!” Indigo finished, his head rolling backwards, a quarter-sized hole in his forehead.

“He was going to say ‘bullet,’ wasn’t he?” said Josh’s savior, walking into the room. Roberto DaCosta kicked Indigo’s body off Josh, holding the smoking gun at his side. “Get up, your friend needs your brand of help.”

“Get over here…Foley,” Julian muttered. The floor was stained with his blood, still profusely pumping out of his gouged stomach. “A little…help?”

“Right, sorry,” Josh said, feeling his powers coming back. He put his hands on the wound, his power sensing the breaks in cells and tissues, and knowing exactly where to sew them back together into one cohesive form once more. As his fingers traced the wound, the broken skin and tissue sewed up behind them.

The pain on Julian’s face eased. He looked up as Josh finished. “You may be a pain in the ass, but I can see why Miss Moonstar wants you on the team.” He then turned to Roberto. “So…why are you here, and since when did Sunspot carry a gun?”

“Did your research, have you?” Roberto asked. He shrugged. “Dani asked me to keep an eye on the place. I may not be on the team, and may not be allowed to fight for whatever reasons are in place, but she had a feeling something bad was going to happen. I have carried the gun ever since we encountered Odysseus Indigo the first time. He made fools out of us, reminding us that without our powers, we were just people. I bought the gun in case I ever met him again.”

“So you killed him?” Josh asked. “I thought X-Men don’t kill.”

Roberto nodded. “He’s a Deviant. He’ll live. I’ve called in a team from X-Corporation to come pick him up and put him in containment. They’ll get here before he pulls himself back together.” He paused. “And X-Men don’t kill; X-Force would if it was necessary.”

“Oh,” Josh said, staring at Odysseus Indigo’s unmoving body, wondering if he was quite ready for what he had gotten himself into.

University of Miami
Miami, Florida

For thousands of students every year, the University of Miami represented a first step, the beginning of the rest of their lives, and the first time they had nothing to prove to anyone but to themselves. Sometimes that proved to be the hardest part of moving away and setting up to live by themselves. They now had to live up to their own standards, or face the worst of all disappointment.

For Theresa Rourke Cassidy, college proved to be that fresh start she needed. After years of running around with different X-Groups and the Fallen Angels, it was nice to be able to sit down and relax for once, to enjoy the ability to learn freely without worrying about the next bad guy to come around the corner. Sure, every once in awhile the life of heroes crept back into hers, like the time her father showed up and said something about neutralizing nanobots, or the time she caught Deadpool sneaking around on campus after dark (they were still replacing the windows her sonic scream had shattered on that particular occasion). But overall, college life had been a refreshing break. So refreshing, in fact, that Theresa forgot why she was in college in the first place.

“Ye’re flunking me?” Theresa asked, as her professor handed back her term paper, a gigantic red “F” sealing the fate of this particular course. Her anger flared, and she had to remember to modulate her voice. She only slipped back into her Irish action when she was angry.

The professor eyed her for a moment before choosing his answer. “I’m failing you because, quite frankly, your work is far behind the expected levels of this college. I understand that your schooling has been rather…spaced out. Spotty, even. Failing this class will actually allow you to rebuild the base you need to succeed in other classes.”

Theresa resisted the urge to scream. “But I don’t want to rebuild my base, boyo!” she hissed, the last word coming out with a sneer. “I’m trying to build a future here, away from everything I’ve known!”

The professor shrugged. “I’m sorry, Miss Cassidy, but, as anyone in construction will tell you, it is impossible to build even a hut without a good foundation.”

Theresa’s face flushed red, and her nostrils flared. Suddenly, she didn’t care anymore.

Siryn screamed.

Cable stood outside the building where Theresa was supposed to have a theology class this hour, according to the schedule Prosh had downloaded for him off the internet. He suddenly cringed at the sound of a sonic scream, followed by the sound of shattering glass all around the building.

“Wait for it,” Cable muttered, stopping himself from leaping into action against whatever had threatened Siryn.

The doors slammed open and Theresa stormed out of them, turning heads as she blew past other students. She looked up from the ground and saw Cable, marching over to him. “Looks like you’ve got some aggression built up,” he said simply.

Theresa fumed. “I don’t care where the fight is,” she said angrily. “Take me to it. As long as there are bad guys to beat up, I’m in.”

“You make this too easy, Terry,” Cable said, allowing himself a laugh. “Bodyslide by two.” And then they were gone.

Hammer Bay, Genosha

Genosha had once been a country that was built off the backs of mutants. People with superhuman powers were forced into skinsuits and given jobs that fit their powers. They were essentially the object of slave labor, driven to do whatever their masters bade them to do, and stripped of their humanity.

Things had changed a lot since then. The mutants were freed after several incidences of rebellion, and the country had been given to Magneto to rule. Since then, the country had transferred into a more democratic type of rule from the dictatorship it had under its original leadership. Many mutants flocked to the island for the safety represented by the number of mutants and the power that their leaders wielded. They knew that they would be safe if the world declared war on mutantkind.

One of the mutants that had made his home on Genosha was the former sewer-dwelling Morlock known as Caliban. The grey giant was gifted with the ability to know the location of any mutant on earth, although no one was all that certain that his powers were limited to the planet. It was that power that made him the go-to man for Dani Moonstar. He was a former member of X-Force and had also had his mind and body twisted inside out by Apocalypse. They had more in common than most of the people who had ever been on the team.

It was dark when Dani Moonstar bodyslid onto the island. She hoped her presence would go unnoticed, though that hope was more of a fantasy on an island chock-full of psychics. She had already scoped out where she was going to go, and knew the area from the last time she had visited Caliban. A silhouette in the starlight, she stepped toward Caliban’s home.

Caliban lived in a simple dwelling, devoid of many of the human comforts that would have made it more into home. As Dani stepped inside, she felt like she was walking into more of a cave than one of her friends’ homes. But then, thinking back on Caliban’s history living in Morlock Alley under the streets of New York City, the darkness made sense.

“Hello, Dani Moonstar,” said a gravelly voice that made Dani jump in surprise. “Caliban has been…waiting for you.”

Dani walked over to Caliban and hugged her friend around the waist. Caliban stiffened, then relaxed, draping one of his arms over her. “Caliban has missed you,” he said.

“I’ve missed you, too, Cal,” Dani said, letting go of him. “Sorry that I couldn’t have come in happier times.”

“What brings Dani to Caliban?” he asked, taking a seat on a thick, strong sofa that appeared to have been specifically to accommodate someone of his size.

Dani sighed. “I need your help finding someone, someone that could be key in saving the world. The problem is, I don’t know this person. Never heard of them at all. I need to know where they are.”

“Who is Dani looking for?” asked Caliban.

Dani thought back for a moment to her memories from the diary. “This person is actually a pair of conjoined twins. Matt and Luke. I think they called themselves Syndicate. That’s all I have. I know it’s not much to work with, Cal, but I’m at a loss.”

“Caliban will see what he can find.” He closed his eyes. Dani wondered what Caliban saw when he was finding someone. Was it a map of the world? Was he seeing their location through their own eyes? It was something that mystified her every time she saw it in action.

Caliban’s eyes suddenly snapped open. “Caliban has found Syndicate,” he said slowly. “New York. The Raft. Prisoner.”

Dani cursed under her breath. “Thanks, Cal.” She stood up to go.

“Where is Dani going?” Caliban asked, hurt creeping into his voice.

Dani sighed. “I have to go find Syndicate. He’s part of the plan to save the world. It’s a long story. I haven’t been able to explain it very well.”

“Caliban is part of the plan, too,” Caliban said confidently. “Caliban is going with you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Dani said, smiling at his altruism. Destiny had known that Caliban would come, whether Dani tried to get her old friend involved or not.

“Breaking Syndicate out?” Caliban asked. “Dangerous plan.”

“No,” Dani said, shaking her head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not yet. Hopefully we can do this quietly instead. I just have to call in a favor to an old friend…”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier

“No. Absolutely not.”

Gabriel Jones sat at his desk, his fingers laced on the desktop. “I’m sorry, Moonstar. I’ve already got my ass in the fire over you and Bridge’s Buenos Aires cover-up, necessary evil as it was. I’m not going to be able to pull any weight to get a felon out of prison, no matter how crucial he is to any plan. You ask a lot for someone just transferred into my jurisdiction, kid.”

“This isn’t about a favor or a special need for a personal mission, Gabe,” Dani said, gritting her teeth. “Look, I’ve kept you updated on the mutant situation, passing on what I can. I’ve compromised my morals for the sake of my agreement with S.H.I.E.L.D. The instant this situation is resolved, I’ll pull your ass back out of the fire by proving how you doing this was absolutely necessary to saving the world. I’m not kidding.”

“Prove it, Dani,” Gabe said, folding his arms over his chest. “Without any proof, I can’t move. I can’t even technically move with proof, because, whether Matt and Luke can help you or not, they still tried to rob a bank.”

“Which, according to their file, they did to get the money necessary for an operation their sister needs or else she’ll die,” Dani said. “If they get that, they won’t commit another crime.”

“And where are you getting the money to do that?” Gabe asked. “Not that I’m saying you’re right.”

“I called Warren Worthington two hours ago. The girl should be going into surgery sometime in the next twenty minutes,” Dani said matter-of-factly.

“And Syndicate is unaware of this?” Gabe asked.

“I haven’t exactly been able to get in and talk to him,” Dani said. “The doctors were able to pull the sister in without consent because it has long since been deemed necessary to her survival.”

Gabe shrugged. “So you’ve done your good deed for the day. Now, if you don’t have any proof, get the hell out of my office.”

Dani paused. “I have proof. You just have to swear you won’t act on it.”

Gabe blinked twice. “Okay, you’ve got me. I’m intrigued. Tell me what’s going on.”

Reaching into her messenger bag, Dani pulled out the first volume of Destiny’s Diaries. “This book was written by Irene Adler. She foresaw the future and wrote down everything she saw in a series of diaries. I don’t know how many there are because I only have the first.”

“May I?” Gabe asked, holding out his hand. Dani reluctantly gave him the book. Gabe flipped through it until he saw a drawing of a two-headed man combating a man with the power of armies—and handling the strain. “This…destruction,” Gabe said, looking at the pages and scenes in the diary. “You think this is all going to happen?”

“I know this all is going to happen,” Dani said solemnly. “Unless we stop it now that we know it’s coming.”

“That’s great, but how can you put this kind of faith into a book that was written years and years before Irene Adler even died, let alone before now?” Gabe asked, sliding the book back across his desk toward her.

Dani said nothing. Instead, she began flipping through the pages of the book. “Dani, I’m talking to y—”

She shoved the book in his face. “This page. This is why I have faith in this book.”

“Oh, hell,” Gabe whispered. The page depicted a bald man lying on the floor, clearly dead. The page was titled “Death of a Dream.” The hooded form of death hovered over the man’s form. “This is Charles Xavier’s suicide.”

“I know,” Dani said. “Drawn by Irene Adler years before her death, which was years before this suicide. She was right. If we’d had this…” Dani let that thought hang. “That’s why we need it now. That’s why we need to believe it now. What do you think, Gabe?”

“I think my ass is gonna get a little toastier,” Gabe said, picking up the phone to make the call.

The Raft
Outside New York City, New York

Irene Adler’s depiction of Matt and Luke was accurate enough. The two were constricted to a single form, with the same number of heads and arms that they should have had separately, all mounted on a tree trunk of a body. There was a soft blue glow from their chest, where a barely-contained electromagnetic pulse kept their body alive instead of a typical heartbeat.

“So, are you the latest shrink?” Matt asked.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “She looks too nice to be a shrink up here. Maybe she’s a guest-shrink.”

“No, they only have those at that Pym prison, the Ant Farm, right?” Matt shot back. “Shrinks the guests.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “I’m your parole officer.”

That shut both of them up. For all of two seconds.

“Parole? We’ve been in jail for three months,” Matt said. “Ulterior motive much?”

“Unless robbing a bank and not actually getting a cent is filed under shoplifting?” he asked, laughing a little.

“This is different. I know why you did what you did,” Dani said. “Your sister.”

Both of them went quiet again. “What happened to her?” they both asked at once.

“Nothing wrong, nothing bad,” Dani said quickly. “Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant. Your sister went into surgery an hour ago. She should be getting out any second. My boyfriend put up the money, because I need your help saving the world.”

“Ulterior motive much?” Matt repeated.

Dani sighed. “You don’t know me. I can’t convince you unless I spill part of the secret.” She pulled out the diary, bookmarked to the page with the twins on it. They stared at it. “This was drawn by a woman who had the power to see the future. You are part of the key to saving the world.”

“Uh-huh,” said Matt.

“Right,” Luke said, with equal skepticism.

Dani shrugged. “Besides, if you don’t come with me, you don’t get to greet your sister when she comes out of the operating room.”

Matt turned to Luke. “She has a point.”

“Of course she has a point,” Luke replied. They stood up. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

The Damocles Foundation
San Francisco, California

After the days of bodysliding, Dani had finally returned to the Damocles Foundation to let her team know why they had been chosen. They had their moments of looking around the table and seeing who was present. Some greeted old friends, and others questioned other members’ presence. Dani took no notice. She stood in front of the gathered members of the new X-Force and began to speak.

“This is the way the world is going to end.”

The room had been black, but it lit up in a series of explosions. Fire rained down from the heavens in blasts the size of passenger trains, reducing cities and lives to nothing but ash. In less than fifteen minutes, Tel Aviv was reduced to cinders and everyone in the cities for miles around baked to death in the radiating heat. Admiring his handiwork from the sky was a man who glowed red. He lingered only momentarily, for there was much more work to be done to bring in a new world.

In Tokyo, the city’s machines waged war on its inhabitants. Electrical wires snapped around the streets, searching for victims to pour their thousands of watts of voltage into. Microwaves overheated themselves and exploded, sending deadly shrapnel flying into their owners. The subway system rerouted itself, causing dozens of collisions in the catacombs underneath the city. Anything that carried an electrical charge became an instrument of death in the hands of the pale angel in black that hovered over the city, like a conductor commanding an orchestra of death and destruction. The city imploded under the weight of everything that had once made it one of the most technologically advanced societies on the planet.

Mexico City fell under yellow needles of energy striking from the sky, like lightning that razed the ground with a frightening accuracy and didn’t hesitate to strike the same place twice. The marshy land that was once home to the Aztecs became arid as the city began to burn itself down. All the while the yellow energy lanced around the perimeter of the city, erasing from existence all who attempted to escape their fates. The center of these strikes was a woman who glowed with the same yellow energy with which she wielded death.

A wolfish man hovered above Italy, leveling buildings with a wave of his arm. Gravity bowed to his command, turning buildings on their sides. With his little finger, the man turned the Leaning Tower of Pisa just enough to send it crashing to the ground, flattening the retreating tourists. Someone might find those pictures one day, if there was anyone left to appreciate the grim irony they captured. As the man flew over the city, people were crushed to death under the weight of their umbrellas, as the force of gravity turned nylon into a crushing instrument of death. Needless to say, the person underneath the umbrella got wet, although rain was no longer a factor.

Stretching across Europe and into Russia, the continent’s nuclear reactors linked up with one another through an external hookup and, in a chain reaction, exploded as one. Those who didn’t die in the initial explosions were the unlucky ones. They would die slowly in the days to come as victims of the radiation poisoning. Another of the hovering people observed this in a red and blue containment suit that crackled with the electric blue power that had linked the reactors in the chain in the first place. These people learned the hard way that the color of the end of the world isn’t the red of blood, but a glowing, radioactive green.

The final image was the most shocking. It was New York City in the process of all of this happening. The heroes of the city and surrounding area, from the Avengers to the X-Men and all the vigilantes in between, all lay on the ground in a heap, their very blood pulled from their body by the pale, bald figure in the sky, whose aura was a pale, sickly yellow. He drew the moisture from these heroes’ bodies effortlessly before turning this power on half the city’s population and water supply. With this moisture he drowned the other half of the city. He flew, then, to the other side of the country and repeated the process on the other city of heroes, Los Angeles. Even though they knew what this man was capable of, these heroes still failed, and Los Angeles was submerged in water within sixty seconds of his arrival.

The series of images ended, and Danielle Moonstar turned the lights back on, staring at the faces of the others looking at her in shock. One was even in tears. “That’s what will happen if we don’t succeed, and according to the prophecy, it can only be us. Any questions?”

There was only one. Cable. “When do we start?”

Dani shook her head. “We don’t have much time here, people. We start yesterday.”

“What will we be doing?” Empath asked, his arm around Magma’s shoulders.

“Our first mission?” Dani asked. The others waited in silence. “The first thing we have to do is find Destiny and see if we can get a better idea of what we’re supposed to be doing here. We’ll move from there.”

“Haven’t we been moving this whole time on the premise that Destiny’s…y’know, dead?” Julian asked, raising his eyebrow.

Dani pulled out her volume of Destiny’s Diaries, flipping it to a page near the end. She turned the book to show it to the group. It featured a scene of everyone in the room, joined by a figure clothed in blue, masked in gold.

“Not according to this.”

NEXT ISSUE: Has Destiny really cheated death? And what obstacles stand in the way of this discovery? Can the newly-formed X-Force stand against the Hound program? Find out in part three of “Written in Stone!”