Australian Outback

“Can’t believe you used to shack up out here,” said Avalanche as he overlooked the small ghost town located in the deserted outback. He removed his metal helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand.

“And I’m sure that as a terrorist, you never lived in anything less than the lap of luxury?” asked Phoenix.

“You kidding? Mystique always set us up in the best hotels money could buy. When you can look like anyone, makes it real easy to score a hotel suite for your friends.”

“It may not look like much, but the technology housed below ground is unbelievable,” said Havok. “After our battle with the Adversary, we defeated the Reavers here and took over their base.”

“If it was so great, why’d you pack up?” asked Avalanche.

“We didn’t have a choice. Our numbers dwindled and Betsy had a vision of the Reavers killing us. Before they returned, we went through the Siege Perilous. Some of us willing, others…”

Havok’s voice trailed off as he recalled that moment when Psylocke had used her telepathy to force him into the Siege. He didn’t want to run and the Siege dropped him in Genosha with no memory of his life. And thanks to the manipulations of Cameron Hodge, Alex was turned into a magistrate of the Genoshan military and turned against his brother.

“Others…others…we’re still listening, Summers. Believe it or not,” muttered Avalanche.

“Forget it,” said Havok. “Fact is the place has been virtually uninhabited until recently when X-Corps had a team set up out here.”

“Maybe we should’ve brought someone who was here with X-Corps. Might’ve been the smart move,” said Avalanche.

“Between his case in Mutant Town and nearly getting killed by one of his friends, James has been through more than enough lately. He’s earned a bit of rest,” said Phoenix.

“I agree. Besides, there’s nothing about this place Proudstar knows which I don’t,” said Havok.

“I still think it was stupid to bring only three of us,” said Avalanche. “And why do we gotta leave Genosha anyway? We’re under Magneto’s protection over there and after Storm’s little stunt, we’ve got leverage over the X-Men, the X-Corporation, and the Avengers.”

“Because we’re putting Jean and Scott at too much risk,” said Phoenix.

“And Mags?”

Rachel’s eyes flashed briefly. “I couldn’t care less about Magneto. I’m more worried about what impact our actions will have on our friends.”

“Whatever, still think this is a waste of time.”

“Your objection is noted. Now stop bitching,” said Havok.

{Hate to be the one to say this, but Petros has a point.} The voice of his niece echoing in his head. {We know the Reavers attacked this place when X-Corps was out here. I understand leaving Warpath behind and Gambit and Lila are off doing their own thing. But shouldn’t we have brought some extra firepower?}

{Storm’s attack showed us that too many people know where we are. If we stay in Genosha, we’re putting Scott and Jean in a very compromising position. How would it look to the United Nations if word got out that the new Genoshan government was harboring mutant terrorists?}

{I know, but…I get an odd feeling about this place.}

{Your telepathy picking up any threats?}

{It’s not really telepathy, just more intuition I think.}

{Keep a sharp eye…and mind. If we find anything here, I’m confident we can take care of it.}

ANOMALY

By Chris Munn and Dino Pollard

Genosha

Alex Roberts watched the television with rapt attention. CNN had been covering a burgeoning religious movement in America, one which seemed to be the opposite of the mutant-hating movements. One where mutants were actually God’s chosen people and Christ himself was the world’s first mutant.

{What are you watching?}

He looked over his shoulder at Jonothon Starsmore. “Good television, that’s what.”

Jono stepped closer and gazed at the screen. {Hmph, bullshit.}

“And how would you know that?”

{Trust me, I know. This ponce is nothing more than another in a long line trying to make a quick buck. All those televangelists are the same, all are trying to find something to condemn.}

“What he’s saying actually makes sense. Think about all the stuff we’ve seen and all the stuff we know about. And when you look at it that way, being able to turn water into wine doesn’t seem too far off,” said Alex.

{Don’t buy into the bullshit, Alex. These people are playing with fire and you don’t wanna get burned.}

“A bit too late for that, wouldn’t you say?” asked Alex as his body erupted with green flames, a black skeleton the only portion of his body that remained visible.

{You know what I mean.} Jono left the room and Alex continued to watch the broadcast. Along the info scroll at the bottom of the screen, there was mention of a rally in Washington. A slight smile played on his lips.

“Not like there’s anything else going on at the moment…”

New Mexico

The middle-aged man opened the door after a series of knocks. He peered at the stranger through the large glasses he wore. “Can I help you?”

“Robert Leevald, I presume?” asked the visitor. “My name is Randall Kitson, we spoke on the phone.”

“Oh god, yes, please!” said Robert, holding the door open. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” said Kitson. Robert directed the visitor to sit in a large chair in the living room, which Kitson graciously accepted.

“Just one moment, let me get my wife.” Robert went to the hall and shouted, “Marcia! Hurry, he’s here!”

From his chair, Randall Kitson observed the photographs framed above the fireplace. He saw pictures of a beautiful young girl with black hair. But in the photos, as the girl grew, her skin changed. First becoming darker and then developing scales.

Robert reentered the room with a woman a few years younger than him by his side. “Mr. Kitson, this is my wife, Marcia.”

“Pleasure to meet you both,” said Kitson. “Now, if you don’t mind, could we talk about your daughter?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Robert as he and Marcia sat on the couch opposite Kitson.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” asked Marcia. “Some coffee or water or…anything? Are you hungry? You’ve come such a long way.”

“Let’s just focus on the case,” said Kitson. He took out a digital recorder and a small notebook. He placed the recorder on the coffee table and turned it on. “Now your daughter…Stacy…when was the last time you saw her?”

“Must have been about two years ago,” said Marcia. “Stacy had always wanted to be an actress. But because of her…condition, it was difficult. And one day, she found something on the Internet about a mutant theatre company in Vegas. She wanted to see what it was all about.”

“She kept in touch at first, telling us that she had met so many great people there. She sounded really happy in her e-mails,” said Robert.

“But then they stopped? The e-mails?”

Robert nodded.

“About when was that?” asked Kitson.

“Six months or so after she left.”

“Did you go to the police?”

“Of course,” said Robert. “We filed a missing person’s report, but they said we were being paranoid. Told us that maybe she was just moving on, falling in with a new crowd and there was nothing they could do.”

“They were prejudiced.”

“Marcia!”

“No, they were! They listened to our story but as soon as we said the word mutant, they got this weird look in their eyes,” said Marcia. “Just because she’s a mutant, they didn’t want to bother looking for a missing girl.”

“How old was Stacy when she left?” asked Kitson.

“Nineteen.”

“I see… And do you have the name of this theatre company?”

“It won’t do any good, they’ve disappeared,” said Robert. “Their website is gone and no one in Vegas has any record of their existence.”

“The name. Please.”

“It was called…the Theatre of Change,” said Robert. “I think.”

“Okay.” Randall closed his notebook and turned off the recorder as he stood. “This has been very helpful, Mr. and Mrs. Leevald. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait, is that it?” asked Marcia.

“Mrs. Leevald, understand that in a case like this, when a young woman disappears, the best chance of finding her is within a few days. Otherwise, the chances of finding her dwindles to nothing,” said Kitson. “Your daughter has been missing for two years.”

“So you’re saying…”

“What I’m saying is if I’m going to find Stacy, I need to act fast,” said Kitson. “We’ll be in touch.”

Washington, D.C.

Normally when in crowds like this, Chamber would have to cover up the psionic furnace where his mouth once was. But fortunately for him, this was a rally made up entirely of mutants. All of them to hear the word of this new mutant religion.

But Jono had no interest in this religion. He cared little for what this fly-by-night preacher had to say. Jono knew what truly lay in the afterlife, at least for mutants. And the memories of what he saw in the place called Wonderland were still very strong in his mind.

Suffice to say, Jonothon Starsmore had enough of religion to last him several lifetimes.

No, he was here for another reason, to follow his teammate. Skullfire seemed intrigued by this new movement, something which unnerved Chamber. He feared his old friend might be taken in by these con artists.

But more than that, Jono had seen what happened when bigots used religion to justify their hatred. Was a mutant alternative, one which would condemn humans, really help their cause? This was just throwing more fuel on the proverbial fire.

The preachers words charged up the crowd, carried by speakers set up. Shouts of “Amen!” echoed throughout the mass throng of people. Chamber saw news cameras and reporters standing off to the sidelines covering the event. He hadn’t seen any protestors come to disrupt the rally but he feared what might happen to them if they did.

Chamber’s eyes failed to spot Skullfire. He reached out with his psionic abilities, trying to sense out his teammate. Once he picked up the familiar thought patterns, he pushed through the crowd, trying to locate his friend. Now, he could see the familiar emerald flames that were Alex Roberts’ energy signature. Chamber came up to his side.

{Time to go home, mate.}

“Fuck off, Jono.”

{No, you don’t know what these people are all about. Trust me on this, you won’t find what you’re looking for with them.}

“I was nearly crucified by flatscans, okay? I know what they’re about. It’s just like these people say, they’re the true servants of evil. Not mutants, but humans. They’re the abomination, they’re the ones who will be killed off. We’re the chosen ones, man.”

{You don’t know what the afterlife is really like.}

“Oh, and you do?”

{Yes.}

“And how do you know that?”

{Because I was there.}

“Bullshit,” said Alex. “I think you spent too much time in that Cambodian prison. You started hallucinating.”

{It wasn’t a hallucination, you git. Monet, Ev, Paige, Clarice, me—we all died. And we saw how twisted the afterlife is. You don’t want to be involved with a group who wants that for all mutants, trust me.}

“I hate repeating myself, so I’m only going to say this one more time—fuck off!” Alex planted his hand on Chamber’s chest and unleashed a burst of energy that sent the X-Man flying back into the crowd. Once Jono got up to his feet, he could see no trace of Skullfire. His teammate had vanished into the crowd.

{Fan-fucking-tastic.}

Australian Outback

“Confirm three targets—Alex Summers, Havok. Rachel Summers, Phoenix. Dominic Petros, Avalanche.”

“Three targets confirmed. Looks like they’re splitting up to explore the base. Battle plan, Cole?”

“Divide and conquer. Reese, you’ve got Avalanche. Macon, take Havok. The mind witch is mine,” said Cole. “Take ’em down fast and hard but lethal force is prohibited. Boss says he wants them alive.”

“Copy that,” said Macon and Reese simultaneously.

“Okay Reavers, move out.”

Avalanche scouted above-ground, wandering through the ghost town. He didn’t care much about the technology that was housed in the tunnels below. Let Havok and Phoenix deal with that and go to the trouble of seeing if it still worked.

He walked inside one of the empty buildings, what was at one point a bar and sat at the counter. Petros removed his helmet and set it on the counter. He pulled off his gloves and used them to fan his face. He had hoped this wasn’t the only place on Havok’s list of potential new bases. Even though Genosha was pretty hot itself, it was nothing compared to this place. And at least there, he could go out for a night on the town. In the outback, he’d be stuck with just the other X-Men.

Avalanche looked over his shoulder as he heard footsteps on the wooden floorboards. Murray Reese stood in the doorway, an automatic rifle in his hands pointed right at the terrorist mutant. Before he could fire, Avalanche slammed his palms together, vibrational waves echoing out from his fingertips and hurling Reese outside onto the sandy ground.

Reese got up quickly but once he looked up, he saw the entire building tilting over and collapse atop his head. Avalanche stood where the bar once did, his gloves now donned again and fitting his trademarked silver helmet over his head.

“You picked the wrong day, Reaver. I’ve been itchin’ for a fight.”

He walked over to the spot where Reese was when the building collapsed. Avalanche kicked away the broken pieces of wood but found nothing there. Nothing but a tunnel. Avalanche knelt down and peered inside.

“What the…?”

A metal tendril snared out and wrapped around Avalanche’s throat. He tried to stay steady long enough to use his vibrations on it, but it pulled him back. Avalanche could see now where the tendril came from—Reese’s open chest cavity. And Reese was waiting patiently with a grin on his face.

“We’re not the same Reavers you went up against on Muir Isle, genejoke,” said Reese.

Phoenix walked about the tunnels below the ghost town. She located the central power grid for the entire town. {Alex, it looks like we’ve hit paydirt.}

{You found the core?}

{Yeah, I’m about to get it running. Did you reach the computer systems?}

{It’s just like Betsy said, everything was shut down once X-Corps vacated. Once you turn on the grid, I can see if there’s anything we can recover from the memory banks.}

The mark of the Phoenix appeared over Rachel’s eye and began to glow brightly. All at once, each of the switches on the grid flipped seemingly of their own accord. The hum of power ringed in the tunnel as lights brightened the dark corridors.

{We’re in business.} Rachel’s grin quickly turned to a frown when she realized she didn’t sense her uncle’s presence. {Alex? Can you hear me?}

An energy blast struck Rachel in the back and threw her against the wall. Psionic flames surrounded her body as she rose above, spinning in mid air and finding Wade Cole standing behind her. His arm was outstretched, palm facing her. There was something in the center of his palm, a circular indentation. One Rachel had seen many times before.

On Sentinels.

“Don’t bother using your telepathy to call for help or to get inside here,” said Cole, motioning to his head. “I’ve got a psi-scrambler. Long as you’re in range of it, that third eye of yours stays closed.”

“Too bad for you telepathy’s not the only thing I have to rely on.” The Phoenix avatar shined brightly and Rachel’s telekinesis hefted Cole in the center of the tunnel, then slammed him into the side of the corridor. “Think I’m scared of you? Just because you got some fancy new toys doesn’t put you on my level, Reaver. And I know you’re not smart enough to do this on your own. So why don’t you tell me who put you up to this and maybe I won’t slowly rip you apart, microchip by microchip.”

“Don’t think so,” said Cole.

“And why’s that?”

“’Cause of this.”

Rachel and Cole both fell to the ground as her brain was flooded by migraines. Cole stood up, unaffected as Rachel lay in the fetal position, hands clutching her head, her screams echoing through the corridor.

Cole stepped up to her and slammed his foot on her head to knock her unconscious. “Feedback wave from the scrambler. Pretty much makes it useless but good in a pinch, don’t you think?”

Once he heard the loud crash and lost contact with Rachel almost simultaneously, Havok raced back above ground. He saw the remains of one of the buildings with Avalanche’s body laying on the ground. In the distance he saw Macon and Reese standing over the terrorist, their weapons slung over their backs.

Havok slowly walked forward, arms hanging at his sides. The cosmic energy that fueled his plasma blasts began to gather in the palms of his hands. He locked eyes with the Reavers. Each man, both mutant and cyborg, prepared to fire their respective weapons at the slightest hint of movement or threat.

Unfortunately for the X-Men’s leader, he heard footsteps echoing on the wooden floor of one of the abandoned buildings. With his peripheral vision, he could spy Cole, the third Reaver, coming up behind him.

Havok opened his palms and plasma energy burst from his hands, striking the ground and sending him into the air like a rocket. The Reavers rushed towards the spot where he had launched from and aimed their weapons, firing up at him. Bullets whizzed by him as he went into free fall. Havok took aim and fired again, one of his blasts taking Macon out of the fight.

When he hit the ground again, he rolled to the side to avoid gunfire from Cole and Reese. He fired a plasma blast whenever he could, but concentrated mostly on dodging their attacks.

A metal tendril wrapped around Havok’s ankle and yanked his leg out from under him. His face struck the ground and when he turned over, he saw Reese standing there, scorched but still functioning, with a metal tendril extending from his palm.

“We’ve gotten an upgrade from a mutual friend,” said Macon. “We’ve got Sentinel tech implanted into our bodies.”

The three Reavers surrounded the X-Man. Cole knelt down and smiled at him. “And speaking of the boss, he’d like a word with you.”

The hood was pulled off Havok’s head. Alex looked around and saw he was in a bare room. His arms were encased in powerful shackles, which seemed to sap the cosmic energy from his body faster than he could generate it. He could scarcely manage a light show, let alone a plasma blast.

Cole, Macon and Reese both stood in front of him. But Havok could find no trace of his teammates. “Where are the others?”

“Ms. Summers and Mr. Petros are being held elsewhere, but they’re alive—for now.” The voice came from behind. “I thought the two of us could have a little chat, Alex.”

A hand fell on Havok’s shoulder and the man circled around the chair. He was dressed all in black save for the white priest collar around his neck. Havok’s eyes narrowed when he laid eyes upon this man and his blood began to boil.

“Stryker.”