DIVIDED DESTINY

Part II: Choosing Sides

By Kyle Trainer

Is your life filled with unnecessary stress? Are people hounding you for being different? Do you feel like the only way to be accepted is to lash out, to try and conquer the world?

If so, there is a place for you. Travel some forty miles north of New York City, to the quaint little town of Salem Center. While you are there, travel a few miles down Graymalkin Lane, to the grounds of an estate predating the Revolutionary War – a very special estate.

You would end up at the Xavier Institute For Higher Learning, where dreams were born, heroes made – and sometimes, evil unleashed. The Xavier Institute is a very special place indeed, because it is here that people with special abilities and powers learn how to use them for the good of the entire world. It is here that men and women are trained to battle in defense of their people. It is here that people with an alteration in their genetic structure, an altered x-factor in their DNA, learn how they will one day live in peace with other humans.

These people are known as mutants.

More accurately, the mutants who currently live on the grounds of the Xavier Estate are known as the Uncanny X-Men. They are the Children of the Atom – men, women, and children who choose to believe in Charles Xavier’s dream of peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans. They are no longer a unique bunch, because other mutant teams following the dream are roaming the globe on this day. They are also no longer following a single dream… a drama currently unfolding inside the Xavier mansion.

But enough of that. Our attention should first go to the grounds outside the mansion, where one of the X-Men’s number is wrestling with his conscience…

“Who’s dat?!?” Remy LeBeau shouted, angrily throwing a flaming cigarette into the air. It exploded upon contact with the ground, thanks to Remy’s mutant power. “Monsieur LeBeau… you’re losin’ it…”

If he ever had it to begin with.

The thought had barely crossed his mind before he realized that he had thrown his last cigarette away, merely because of his jumpiness. The price of having a hidden past… and knowing it could catch up with you at any time.

Remy was better known as Gambit, the resident thief and wild card of the X-Men – a mutant, like the others. His power is to charge any object up with its latent kinetic energy, which is released as a small explosion.

Gambit has many interesting facets of his personality: a charmer, a thief, a manipulator, and a walking enigma. This last characteristic is the cause of his troubles within the X-Men, as they now know. He has had a very shady past, and Remy would prefer that certain events were not known to the X-Men.

“But I t’ink its a tad too late for that…” Gambit sighed, leaning back on the tree trunk which held him in the air. He continued carving into the thick branch he sat on with a butterfly knife, and hummed to himself. He appeared quite carefree, and altogether happy with the world.

But appearances are definitely deceiving. He is outside not of his own choice, but because of the orders of another. He has become a pawn of another being, and he does not like it one bit. Since the X-Men found out about part of his past with Sinister, they have shunned him – but not to his face. Some of them have accepted him, others have made a point of ignoring him, and some others have yet to reveal their feelings to him. He is not their favorite person, this he knows, but he wishes he could find a way to be accepted as a teammate again. He needs the X-Men, they are his family now, since his real family has long since exiled him from their number.

Seems that being exiled is something familiar to Gambit.

Since he has left the mansion, the weather has gotten worse. It is now thirty-one degrees below zero, and the icy wind has not let up. Gambit, huddled in his body armor and familiar overcoat, is only cold on his cheeks, but his long brown hair is keeping that problem to a minimum. Gambit doesn’t know how high he is in the air, but he is not at the top of the tree, he knows that. At the bottom, where he began his short climb, there is a makeshift plaque, to represent the bronze memorial which was appropriated during Operation: Zero Tolerance. The plaque was dedicated to Doug Ramsey, a former member of the New Mutants, who fell in battle with his fellow mutant teenagers. From what Gambit heard, this tree was a favorite climbing spot of Doug, and thus was chosen by his teammates as the perfect site for his memorial.

But Gambit hadn’t heard that much.

He heard something right now, though.

Not eager to re-enact his wasteful use of his final cigarette, Gambit stood on the thick branch, and looked around. He walked to the end, not at all wary, like any other person would have been if they were as far up in the air as he was. He glanced around, curious as to the origin of the sound. He then decided it was nothing, again, and went to sat down. But before he could sit on the hard oak, something violently shook the branch, and Remy LeBeau plummeted towards the ground.

But two-thirds of the way down, he reached his hand out, grabbing onto a branch jutting barely out of the trunk. He swung upwards, his feet reaching high above his head, and used his acrobatic skills to push himself off the smaller branch. Completely inverted, he grabbed onto another branch, flipping over, and swung back down. He dropped to the ground, looking around, and before he could say anything – not even one of his charming, trademark responses…

“Hello, X-Man.”

With a voice as cold as ice, and a wind as chilly as winter, Gambit’s heart stopped cold.

“…”

Nothing Gambit could say would restart his blood circulation, and Marrow’s second heart was long gone, preventing her blood from ever properly circulating. How much they had in common. “Hello, Marrow.”

“How’re things?” Her voice never changed, staying an even cold tone with every syllable.

“Uh, t’ings are fine. An’ you?”

“Nice accent.”

“Uh, t’anks.” He paused, wondering why she was here. And glanced upwards. Where he had stood before, on the branch, three of her bone shards were stabbed into the tree.

“You… you lookin’ for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Uh, anyt’ing in particular?” He did not recall saying ‘uh’ so many times in his life.

“Maybe.”

“Oh.” He glanced around. Where were the other X-Men when he needed them? Usually they showed up two minutes into a conversation. “Okay.”

“See ya, LeBeau.” And like a shadow, she was gone. No more words, no more sounds.

“See ya… around.” He turned to the tree, and leant against it – putting his arm up and propping his head on his forearm, and wept a single tear for years of crimes, years of selfish acts, years of being – of being himself. And he wept for all those he had condemned, for all those who had had lives before crossing paths with him. And Marrow was certainly one of that number – he had not affected all his victims directly.

But his peace lasted for barely a minute. Just as Gambit finally relaxed, he heard a slight ‘whoosh’ sound, and turned his head a quarter of an inch. And as he looked to the side, wondering if it was the frigid winds again.

It wasn’t.

He stared in amazement, at the three bone shards. But these were not stabbed into the wood above his head. These were implanted in the tree trunk, right where Gambit’s tear had wet the bark.

And Marrow was nowhere to be found.

Inside the Xavier Institute, where did we leave off? Right here, I believe…

X-Men old and new were gathered before Cyclops in the mansion’s large living room. Phoenix, Iceman, Archangel, Beast, Storm, Nightcrawler, Shadowcat, Psylocke, Rogue, Colossus, and of course Professor Charles Francis Xavier were all present. Wolverine was away from the mansion on personal business, Gambit was still outside the mansion, Marrow, also outside, had just disappeared, and Cecilia Reyes was off on personal business. Such is the life of a doctor.

Cyclops has just proposed his new dream for the X-Men, his own idea for the direction the X-Men should go in. Simply put, he wants the X-Men to seek out those mutants who would spread terror and evil around the world, and incarcerate them. And this apparently goes against Xavier’s dream, or at least some X-Men believe so.

Let us pick up right where we left off, shall we?

“So what happens now, Scott?” Xavier asked with a sigh.

“Well, Charles… it’s clear you’re not willing to do anything about this. We’re not going to agree at all on this… so I guess I’m going to have to leave and do something about it myself!”

“Are you now?” Storm asked, her voice filled with sarcasm. Not her usual tone, but she was not incredibly pleased with Scott’s new plan. It violated every aspect of Xavier’s dream, something she thought Cyclops believed in as strongly as she.

“Yes, Storm, I am. And do you have some kind of problem with that?” Cyclops turned to Ororo, finally giving her his attention. She had immediately come to Xavier’s defense when Scott first brought up his idea, taking Scott’s place at Xavier’s side.

“Actually, I do.” She glared at him. “You want X-Men to hunt our own kind! Why? Are we doing that badly in our struggle to succeed in the dream?!”

“Storm, honestly, think about it! I’ve already cited examples, but you need more. For years, mutants have been seen as evil. The X-Men have tried to stop the evil mutants or super-powered beings, but we cannot stop them all before they wreak havoc! Look at our recent past, even! Graydon Creed was assassinated, by lord knows who, and who do people blame? Mutants. Bastion kidnapped you, I, and three other X-Men, why? Because we are what? MUTANTS. And Onsl… Charles caused immense damage, and people sought to hunt down MUTANTS, Storm!” Cyclops finally realized the X-Men were surrounding him, Storm, and Xavier, and stopped himself. He had said all of this before.

“So now is the time. I am going to go, to live out my own dream. Am I doing it alone?”

Silence filled the air. No one said anything. Everyone glanced around, looking at their feet, or at the walls. Rogue hung in the back, saddened because Gambit had left. Archangel and Psylocke stood together, leaning on a wall, Warren glancing at different paintings of Xavier which were recently hung up. Next to Warren were Iceman and Beast, both playing with the now empty mugs of coffee they had. And, together as always, stood Nightcrawler, Colossus, and Shadowcat, who had clung together since their return. The X-Men were a family, but a fractured one it seemed…

“I… see.” Scott had expected more support.

“No, you don’t.” Phoenix stepped forward, putting her hand on Scott’s muscular shoulder; he had gained some weight since he had left the X-Men. Phoenix glanced at Storm, who looked away, and avoided the gaze of Xavier. She found herself unable to look right at him. He had lied to her, and she would never forget that. “I support you, Scott.”

“Thank you, Jean, I-”

“Scott,” Ororo began, her lower lip trembling. “I am sorry. You have been a valued teammate and… friend to me, but the dream of Xavier is what I support. I am sorry. I side with Charles.”

“Well… how about you others? Hanging away from the argument? Whose dream do you support?” Xavier looked around, his face ragged, stress from his recent ordeals. “We are waiting…”

“I… Scott… we…” Archangel began to speak, glancing at Psylocke. She nodded, knowing full well what he was going to say. “I have known you for years. All of you X-Men, I’ve known you for a long time, and I have worked with you. The same goes for Betts. We… we side with Scott. Sorry, Charles, we still believe in you, but Scott’s dream mirrors our own thoughts during these recent times.”

“Warren, Betsy, thank you.” Scott smiled as the two walked over, behind Cyclops, and sat next to Phoenix on the plush couch. He turned to the remaining Original X-Men. Despite the serious situation and his known seriousness, he half-smiled. “Bobby, Hank?”

“Well, though I am my own emissary and my thoughts represent no one else’s, I believe others think the same as I,” replied Hank. “I am afraid I must side with Scott as well. Professor, I respect you and your dream immensely, but I have seen the threats which are biding their time. I was a captive of one of them for a long time. I must side with Scott.” He walked over to the couch as well, plopping down on the armrest.

Xavier turned to Iceman, “Robert?” he inquired, his spirits down. He believed in his dream, but he needed X-Men to help him. “What is your decision?”

“I… well… ahem…” Bobby Drake, the youngest charter member of the X-Men, glanced at the floor. His mind was in a million places at once, unsure of what he wanted to do. Well, he knew what he believed in, but he wanted to be with his friends. He knew the other X-Men at least wanted him on their team, because his control over his power was growing every day – but did they like him? Like the other original X-Men did? Or did they at least respect him, as a warrior, like Bishop did?

“I… I side with… Charles,” he said finally. “Before you say anything, ANYONE, I still love you guys. We were there at the beginning, but your new idea… my dad always taught me that going after my family was wrong. My cousins, specifically. And that’s what this new plan is, Scotty, I’m sorry. You know I’ll miss you, but… I still believe in Charles’ vision.” He walked over to Xavier, and was patted on the back by Storm. “I’m… sorry.”

“I… see… ” Scott looked down. He waited, and silence filled the air. “Well, I…”

As everyone paused and glanced around, a momentary break in the tension filled the air. Everyone took this moment to take a deep breath, and half of them breathed out their anger with their carbon dioxide. But only half.

Warren Worthington III, glanced around. Betsy seemed calm about this, but she had been oddly reserved lately. He wondered what he would do about missing Bobby… but at least he had Hank and Betts. He could visit Bobby. He could…

And out of the corner of his eye… just as his anger left him via his lungs… he saw something. Something he could not believe. Someone he had been anticipating seeing for some time now.

Gambit had returned to the room.

Phoenix did not feel good. Something was wrong, she knew that. Well, more than one thing. The X-Men were splitting up… again… and she worried about their future. But she had Scott, at least, and did not have to be with Xavier… but she WOULD miss Storm.

Xavier. How COULD he look at her like that? How COULD he look stunned that she was still angry at him? Thanks to that creature Onslaught, she knew the truth. She knew… Xavier… she knew. He had LOVED her. LOVED HER! And he had said nothing for years. He may not have carried the torch… but it burned. She knew. And now, he KNEW she knew, and he said nothing.

Just thinking about him… her stomach heaved. Her mind spun. She clung to the couch, to Betsy’s sweater, and shook her head. She got over it, but her body seemed to shift one last time. A heave, a spin, a… kick?

“Impossible,” she mumbled to herself.

“Pardon, luv?” Psylocke leaned over.

“Ah? Oh, nothing. I… I was singing a song,” Phoenix stammered.

“O’course.”

A kick?!

Interlude

Israel.

His name is a simple word. Two syllables. Able to be shortened to one, if you so desired. And yet, this man, this being, was a walking mystery.

And his existence of questions without answers, dreams without endings, hope without fear, was coming to a climax. His purpose would be explained, he knew. He felt it. And he wondered HOW he knew.

“Joseph?” The voice, as clear as the night sky he gazed at from the Negev Desert, came to him. “Are you there?”

“Who… who are you?”

“I am one you know. You have met me, Joseph. Met me before. You know who I am.”

“I… do not. Tell me! Do not play games with me!” Joseph turned around, his outfit tossing in the sand.

“I am your only ally, Joseph. Remember that,” the voice called out to him.

“Who ARE you, woman?!” he paused, regaining his breath. This voice was getting to be annoying. “What is your name?”

“Call me Irene…”

Meanwhile, back at the mansion…

Choices were made. The X-Men have split even further. Reluctantly, Shadowcat was forced into deciding where to go, to be an X-Man, or not to be an X-Man. After the unordinary events in her recent personal life, she wondered what she would do. Where to go. Who to side with. She stared at Xavier, wondering how he would react to her decision. But she made it nonetheless. She turned back to her teammate, and longtime friend, Colossus. A powerhouse who had stolen her heart years ago.

“…And so, Professor, though I no longer blame you for losing my… my snowflake, I think Cyclops’ idea is a good one. I am willing to try it. My brief return to the X-Men has taught me I do not belong here. I thought I would, but I do not. Who knows, I may return one day, to visit my little… sister.” Colossus’ voice faltered, as he closed his eyes. His body may have been momentarily steel, but his heart was gold. Truer words never said. “I will miss you all, but with Kurt going back to Europe, I will go with Scott’s X-Men.”

Colossus took his place by their side. Shadowcat was looked at next.

“Well… I-I’m… I’m sorry, Professor. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but still, I just can’t look away from this idea. It seems good. I’ll keep Peter company till you come back, Fuzzy Elf. Sorry, Ororo.”

She took her place by their side, as Nightcrawler and Storm looked on.

The focus then turned to Rogue…

“Well, Ah, ya know, ya’ll’ve been good t’me, an’ I… I…” she couldn’t think straight. This was a common problem for every X-Man, apparently.

“Chere, let’s save d’fellows a little time for de hero business, non?” Gambit paused. His first witty comment in front of the X-Men for a while. No one even smiled. “I…”

Before any other words could pass from his jaw, two hands wrapped around Gambit’s throat, pushing him back with such force, he toppled onto the floor, flipped over his assailant, and flipped again, landing with his back on the hard, wooden floor – and with Archangel pinning him down. His hands did not loosen.

“You worthless traitor! I don’t even know WHY we let you stay here, when you will BETRAY every one of us AGAIN!” Warren’s teeth gritted, as spittle flew from the ivory showcase, and pelted the Cajun’s face. Archangel’s blue face was a terrible mix of navy and crimson, which gave every visible inch of skin the terrible color of a bruised bone. “You are a TRAITOR!”

At first, every X-Man in the room moved towards the pair. But they slowly stopped – even Rogue, who had flown on a direct path towards Archangel’s back, slowed and settled her feet on the wrinkled rug. They stopped, perhaps because they feared Archangel’s rage. But maybe, just maybe, they stopped because Gambit did not fight back. They all saw it in his ruby eyes. He just lay there, allowing his life to be choked away. As Warren rose, holding Gambit in the air with his clenched fists, his perfect vision must have caught Remy’s lack of struggle as well. For a brief moment, through his anger, a calm man was visible, a touched man. And he settled Gambit back on his feet, his breathing still hard, but his skin returned to its normal color.

“I-I’m… sorry.” And with that, he turned and left the room, his wings ripping through the harness he had worn for no apparent reason – he hated the harness. But it was gone now, along with his rage towards Gambit, apparently. Iceman, Psylocke, and the Beast leapt to chase after him.

“Well… THAT was odd.” Cyclops lowered his head. Normally, he too would chase his friend, but now, he had something greater to accomplish. “Gambit, are you all right?”

“Eh? Oh, oui.” Gambit warily stood and shrugged off Rogue and Storm’s attempt to help him. He leaned on a wall, oddly showing signs of fatigue. None but Storm took this in, but he appeared more stressed and tired then one would have been after a minute’s lack of air. He appeared… defeated.

“Cyke, I heard what’s goin’ down, an dis dream a’yours, it sounds fine an’ all, but I-I t’ink I’ll stay where I am. No hard feelin’s, homme.”

“Of course.” Cyclops nodded. No surprise. Gambit probably wanted to stay away from Psylocke, who had probed his mind, and Archangel, opting instead to stay with Storm, and…

“Ah stay with Xavier, too.” Rogue, of course, going where Gambit did. “This dream o’yours, I think I’ll stay with Storm for now, sugah. Sorry.”

“Of course.” Cyclops nodded. Everyone had chosen now, except for Marrow and Wolverine. And who knows where they were. He paused. “I think we should all take a little break, maybe relax a little, before I leave – with whoever wants to come with me. Thank you all for deciding this so… calmly.”

And with that, and no regard towards Xavier, Cyclops turned and left the room. And everyone’s thoughts on Cyclops probably mimicked Gambit’s right now…

“Eh.” He regained his breath, walking to a closed window. The snow outside was still pounding. “The boy does have a backbone…”

Below the mansion, hundreds of meters below…

The Danger Room. A place where the X-Men tested themselves and their teammates to the extreme, a place where battles were fought with no real feuds, and a place that the X-Men always thought of as special. During the Operation Zero Tolerance raid, the Danger Room had been stripped of its technology, just like the rest of the mansion had been. Marrow had made the abandoned Danger Room her home, but had been forced out once the X-Men regrouped to search for Xavier. The X-Men had used some resources to put together a simpler Danger Room, but in the weeks since Xavier had been found, his funds had put the mansion back together. Including the Danger Room, which had been updated a few times, but never like this. A completely new system was needed, and gotten – and was, supposedly, more deadly and challenging then ever before.

The Danger Room had always been like a second home to Cyclops. He and Wolverine had logged the most time in the Room, but Cyclops had spent more of his time actually training. Lord knows what Logan did, when he wasn’t training, in here.

And as Scott Summers stepped onto the hard, metal floor, he felt a wave of nostalgia. He’ll miss the old place, but he knows he has to leave. His mission is too important. His goals MUST be achieved. The mutant race must survive, to put it dramatically.

“Activate, Paladin-level training session,” he said, testing the new voice-activated main computer. Like clockwork, metal panels slid to the side, and weapons poked from secluded hideaways. Certain floor plates slid away, revealing metal tentacles or fire pits, eager to snatch Cyclops down. And, on the far side of the room, was a metal rod, sticking into the air. The object of the Paladin-level sessions is simple: reach the metal rod, touch the top, and you will have ‘captured the flag’.

And like the X-Man he was born to be, Cyclops leapt into action…

He first leaped over one of the fire pits, the hot flames surging upwards, trying to catch the blue-and-gold training uniform he had changed into. They failed. Scott dropped to his shoulder, rolled twice, and emerged from a small maze of spikes, having successfully made it through the barrage. He then used his mutant power for the first time today – to shoot crimson energy blasts from his eyes, made of condensed solar energy. This power, uncontrollable without the aid of ruby quartz glasses, his eyelids, or a specially made visor, was the bane of his existence. But he had grown to accept it. Through his special visor, he blasted a wave of missiles reaching towards him, but saw a single stray make it through the smoke of the other missiles. It reached for him, the flame pushing it growing by the minute.

But just as Cyclops turned his head to blast it, metal tentacles reached up, and grabbed his arms and legs. He was yanked downwards, onto his knees, and the impact made his head bob. Before he could do anything, the missile honed in on its target, and exploded.

Using smaller blasts of optic power, controlled by the visor he wore, Cyclops blew apart the metal tentacles. He threw the remains away, and momentarily turned away from the maze of destruction to look at the one person he did not want to see right now. Well, there were a few people, but she was one of the top two.

“Hello, Cyclops.” Storm stood in the entrance to the Danger Room like a ghost of nightmarish presence, to coin a phrase. Her hand lowered, the smoke still rising from where she had blasted the missile down with a bolt of lightning. “How are things?”

“Fine, Storm,” he said, his teeth gritted and his face grim. He normally called her by her name, Ororo, but now, things were different. She would have to live with that. “And you?”

“The same. May I train with you?” she stepped down, slamming the thick metal door behind her. She obviously did not need his answer. “Good.”

“Of course,” he said, his muscles tensed. If she had come to beat his dream out of him, which would not be that surprising, he was ready for her.

“This is a Paladin-level course, you know. Are you… up to it?”

“I am if you are.” She looked at the fires blazing, weapons bared, ready for her. The room obviously was ready to reset its settings for two.

“Room, please upgrade armaments for two, and also, to a higher danger setting – say… Delta Paladin.”

“Impressive,” Scott said, his sarcasm carrying more weight then his respect for her. He had always felt she was a worthy warrior, but now, she was just another lapdog of Xavier. His old role, not one he was willing to soon renew. “Let’s go.”

With that, the Danger Room spit more energy into the high danger setting then it had in months. Laser cannons sizzled the air, leaving behind a smell of ozone. Missiles exploded all around them, and metal plates spun, attempting to flip them over, leaving them open to attack. Explosions, created underneath the floor, attempted to topple Cyclops. Storm was flying safely overhead, navigating through a barrage of weaponry. Scott was left on the ground, alone, to navigate through the tentacles, fires, and other dangers. He grabbed onto a metal plate sliding across the floor to trip him, and leaped onto it, riding it halfway across the room. It had become a test of wills, he knew, between him and Storm. And he was winning.

But, of course, something had to prick the bubble of tension filling the room. Something had to cause the two, who were holding back rage and anger and the need to prove themselves to Xavier, to go into battle mode. And something did.

As a missile streaked towards Storm, Cyclops saw she did not appear to notice it. She was grappling with a set of metal wires attempting to ensnare her, and the missile headed towards her bare back. So Scott, being chivalrous as always, fired a single, thin beam, blasting the missile. It did not explode upon contact, but it began sparking and smoking more, until it exploded right behind Storm. The fires shredded the wires, but also threw Storm into the air. It stunned her, and she fell, towards a suddenly revealed pit of fire.

So Cyclops flipped backwards, and leaped off of the sliding plate which was carrying him to victory. He ran towards her, and blasted everything out of his way. He was not willing to have her perish, just to allow his dream to come to fruition. So, he blasted a pile driver erupting across his path, and the chunks of metal tumbled towards the floor. Scott blasted them as well, sending them into the fire which would catch Storm if Cyclops failed. With the fire momentarily busy, Scott leaped over it, and caught her, rolling, and blasted a cannon out of his face the moment he landed.

“COWARD!!!” she screamed, sending such a wave of electricity through his body that Scott was momentarily unable to use any aspect of his power. He fell backwards, and she rolled out from his embrace, standing tall.

“You COWARD! You sought to end my life during a harmless training session?! What kind of X-Man are you? Is that what your new dream is, Scott, ending the days of all who oppose you?”

“Storm, I-” he tried to say something, but could not at first, so he did the next best thing. He blasted her, knocking her down, and then he smiled. “Sorry if that hurt, Wind Rider, but you attacked me first. I was simply saving you from a missile.”

“Liar!” she screamed, and sent a wave of wind at him, pushing him back, into a wall just behind him. Metal slid aside, and tentacles shot out, towards his face. “I saw the device, and had a plan to destroy it!”

“Of course.” Scott ducked, allowing the four tentacles going for his head to collide. He gave them a small blast, fusing them together, and stepped forward as the clump of metal swung down, and slammed against the wall. He shot the ground under Storm, but she managed to stand again. “The invincible Ororo! Nothing can befall you! I had forgotten, you’re the strongest X-Man out there, the best leader!”

“I am the best leader, Cyclops.” She ran towards him, ducking under a wave of lasers, and he saw electricity building up in her hands, courtesy of her mutant metabolism.

“You are not!” Before she could shock him, Scott dropped to his knees, and swung his left leg out, tripping her. She fell towards him, her face a mask of rage. “You know you are not! You attempted to kill Callisto and later Marrow, all because of the mess you got the X-Men into with the Morlocks! You let Legion succeed while he was in the past, Storm! You let Madelyne corrupt Alex! You did all this! You even abandoned the X-Men during the Onslaught because of some crush on my son! How are YOU the best leader?!”

“YOU… how DARE you?!” she rammed her shoulders into him. He had forgotten she was stronger then she looked. He was pushed against the wall again, hard. “I sought to save your son, while you hunted a figure who was like a FATHER to you! YOU abandoned Madelyne, causing her to become the woman who corrupted your brother, and nearly slew your son! I did not lead the X-Men into the grip of Krakoa, Cyclops! I did not leave Jubilee and Xavier at Bastion’s base! I did not allow my hatred of Magneto to blind me, to let Charles and Wolverine to go to Avalon, to DESTROY both their lives!!”

“NO!!!” Cyclops forgot his restraint, and let loose a semi-full-power optic blast. It caught Storm in the chest, and shot her a third of the Danger Room away. Her words cut into him like… bone daggers. “I didn’t ALLOW them to go! I didn’t WANT to hunt Charles! I wanted to HELP them, Storm! I wanted to HELP!”

“Do not LIE!!” she came back, somehow still full-powered, and slammed into him, riding a growing tornado. The two flew backwards, thanks to Storm’s winds, but Cyclops grabbed onto a metal tentacle, swinging her around, and slamming her into the ground. The two rose again, in the middle of this battlefield the Danger Room was. “You WANTED Wolverine and Xavier to go! You wanted Havok to become a demon! All because they stood in your way! Logan held a certain part of Jean’s heart, Scott, you KNEW that! Alex was Madelyne’s new love, and you always resented that! Do not deny it, you were GLAD to hear Alex perished! Admit it!”

“NO!!!! How could you SAY that?!” With an anger and a power he never thought himself capable of, Cyclops grabbed Storm’s throat, and held her face-to-face. “Never! I NEVER felt that! You… petty thief! You know NOTHING about how I feel!”

“Scott, don’t…” But it was too late, his rage was too strong. He opened his visor and blew Storm all the way across the Danger Room, with a full-powered blast. She hit the far wall with a barely audible THUD, and then slid to the ground. But the smoke from the still-raging training session blocked his view of her.

“Storm? Storm?!” As Cyclops became himself again, all the anger, the bitterness, the rage at having the darker parts of his past laid bare – all of it was gone. And he ran across the room, nothing stopping him. He blew apart tentacles, leaped over fires, through pile drivers, around laser beams, and under missiles. Nothing the vile room could throw at him would stop him. “Ororo!”

And there she was.

Standing there, her hair wild, her costume shredded. Now that Scott looked, he saw his costume was in shreds as well. Her eyes and hands blazing, a storm brewed around her, and her eyelids narrowed.

And to him she came…

The X-Men are normally a family. Not always a happy one, but at the very least, content with their roles. And to have a happy team, they need a happy leader.

Charles Francis Xavier is NOT a happy leader.

How did things get so out of hand, he asks himself? How did I lose the man who took the place of my son? How?

He does not know. He knows things are wrong, but does not know HOW wrong. What would happen if he were to find out?

“ATTENTION!” A speaker hidden behind a clock suddenly came to life, a computerized baritone of a voice yelling to the whole mansion. “PROBLEM IN SECTION SEVENTEEN. LARGE AMOUNTS OF DESTRUCTION. THREE BEINGS PRESENT. TWO IN SERIOUS DANGER. REPEAT: PROBLEM IN SECTION SEVENTEEN. LARGE…”

“Sector seventeen… ” Xavier put his hand to his jaw for a moment, working it around, his mind running in a thousand places at once. And then, like magic, his eyes lit up, “The DANGER ROOM!”

“Hello?”

They had all arrived at the same time, everyone realizing what room the danger was in. How ironic…

“Hello?” Colossus repeated his loud inquiry, wondering what was going on beyond that door. Everyone was huddled at the base of the stairwell which now served as the entrance to the Danger Room. “Professor?”

“Yes, Peter. Enter.” Xavier was linked with all of his students at that moment, except the ones in the shelter of the Danger Room.

Colossus tried the knob, but it did not go. He tried to computerized hand-signature-recorder, but it would not move. So, since he knew there was danger, he took another course of action.

Rearing back with his large fist, the giant slammed his metal hand right into the three layers of metal, and through them. The door would not be pierced by an army, but by Colossus? Nothing would withstand him.

They all entered…

“Good lord!” Henry McCoy shouted above the raging flames and explosions, as he bounded into the air. He heard nothing but the constant danger that the room provided. “Charles, how do we…?”

“Danger Room, override code, shut down,” Xavier interrupted. Beast had not been told about the voice-activated computer. But nothing happened.

“I’ll get it, Prof!” Iceman immediately covered his body in the sheath of ice which allowed him to look like a walking ice sculpture, and created an ice slide, flying over the heads of the gathered X-Men, and back up the stairs.

The X-Men waited, while Iceman made his way to the control booth. They wondered what might be wrong, when the room shut down. The lasers stopped flying, the pile drivers stopped slamming. But only half the fires dispersed. Iceman returned, sliding to a stop next to the X-Men.

“Robert…” Xavier began again, needing his young friend’s assistance.

“Done,” Iceman said, not used to having such a prominent role in any business of the X-Men. He raised his hands, and using his mutant gifts, he focused on the air molecules, and used their natural condensation to freeze them. Creating a wave of ice, he froze the air around all of the fires, smothering them. The X-Men watched while the smoke slowly dissipated, wondering where Storm was. She usually used a small wind to get rid of smoke like this. Angel, back from a brief exit from the mansion, flew into the air, and beat his feathered wings so hard the smoke all pounded into one corner of the room. The ventilation systems took care of the rest.

“Good LORD!” the Beast shouted again, as the rest of the collective X-Men gasped.

The room was in shambles. There were holes everywhere, the walls were ripped apart, and everything was in pieces. Parts of the roof were missing, hanging by a thread, or jammed into the floor. Pieces of every part of the room were gone – it looked as though a giant bomb had been set off in the Danger Room. And in the middle of the room, still grappling…

“SCOTT!” without a thought, Jean Grey-Summers leapt into the air, arching her back. She had expected her telekinetic powers to kick in as she wanted them to, but…

She toppled to the ground, forgetting she had lost her powers. She stood, and without checking for injuries, joined the rest of the X-Men in surrounding the fighting duo.

Storm and Cyclops, both injured from their fight, were pulled away from each other. Xavier demanded to know what was going on, but neither would say. They were both still incredibly seething with rage…

The next day, Cyclops and Phoenix took their group of X-Men and left the mansion. Cyclops, Phoenix, Archangel, Psylocke, Beast, Shadowcat, and Colossus all left the Xavier Institute, never to return. And the other X-Men watched as their friends left, not knowing where they were heading, wondering if they would ever see each other again.

And eventually, slowly, life returned to normal in the Xavier Institute For Higher Learning.

Epilogue

The Danger Room. The X-Men have just left. Everyone is thinking their own things, wondering what happened in there. Not about how the room went so insane, but why two people who had always led the X-Men together had fought so brutally. They had all left, going to live out the dramas that they would encounter. And forgot one thing…

The computers registered three people in the Danger Room.

But that is a mystery for another day, isn’t it?

In the control booth, though, the X-Men learned from Iceman something interesting. The booth was in shambles as well. They assumed that the energy overload from the room had taken out the booth as well. It looked that was the cased – the plastic shield was even broken. So they all let it go.

But right after the battle, someone is there, someone who is not Iceman, and they are laughing. They get up from a hidden corner, where Bobby Drake did not see, and leave, cackling. For their plans are in motion – they are going to succeed in their mission.

And in the middle of the control panel, being consumed by the fires, is the evidence of their identity. Something the X-Men would appreciate knowing. But the panel short-circuited because of the evidence, and this allowed the havoc in the Danger Room to occur.

And this person leaves, laughing until they can laugh no more.

And the evidence is consumed…

NEXT ISSUE: The return of Sabra and Maggott!