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- PHOENIX
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- CYCLOPS
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- STORM
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- COLOSSUS
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- JUBILEE
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- PROTEUS
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- EMMA FROST
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- FUSION
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- NOCTURNE
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- FEVER PITCH
INFILTRATION
By Ryan Krupienski
Russia
The Blackbird jet streaks across the sky, over the winter wasteland and through the jagged, uninviting mountain peaks below. From the coordinates programmed into the plane’s computers, Cyclops and Storm can see that they’re not far from their destination, and can even see part of a bridge in the distance thanks to the windshield’s infra-red vision sensors. Between the raging blizzard outside and the Blackbird’s own stealth shielding, though, any potential resistance in the area won’t be able to detect the X-Men.
“ETA eight minutes everyone,” Storms says loudly enough for those in the passenger area to hear. “We can almost see the facility.”
“How exactly are we doing this?” Jubilee asks, her eyes fixed on Phoenix. The redhead gives the young Asian woman her attention as she continues, “I want in on this, you know. I’m not just going to be standing around while you do all the work.”
Phoenix’s lips curl into a small smile for a brief moment as she considers how Jubilee presently reminds her a bit of Wolverine. “No, none of that,” Phoenix answers, “all of us are going in on this one. I put this team together specifically for this mission, no one’s thrown in here just for the heck of it. I’ll explain everything once we’ve landed…”
Phoenix closes her eyes for a moment as she feels a sharp pain in her head that vanishes just as quickly as it came. She shakes her head a little, as if to shoo the ache away, and reopens her eyes, now feeling fine, but unsettled. The large man sitting next to her turns to her and asks, “Are you okay, Jean?”
“Fine, Piotr. I’m fine,” Phoenix responds. “But we have to land, right now.”
Colossus gives her a puzzled look. “Jean?”
{Scott, Ororo, find a place outside of a mile radius of the installation to land,} Phoenix says through use of her telepathy. {Something’s just come to my attention.}
{Is everything all right?} Storm inquires.
{Nothing to worry about, Ororo. Just make sure to land more than a mile from the facility.}
“I suggest if you’re not buckled in, you do so now,” comes Cyclops’ voice from the cockpit. “It’s going to be a little bumpy.”
Already strapped into their seats, the four passengers brace themselves as the Blackbird’s landing gear extends and the jet lowers to the rocky terrain below. There is a bit of turbulence as they descend, but Phoenix absently uses her telekinesis to steady the plane and ensure its safe touchdown. Shaking ever so gently, the Blackbird lands, and mere seconds later the engines begin to die down. Everyone undoes their seatbelts, as Storm and Cyclops retreat from the pilots’ seats and join their teammates in the back.
“Activate full cloak,” Cyclops says, speaking to the Blackbird’s computers, as he follows behind Storm. A low humming sound can be heard as the feature is enabled.
Phoenix looks around at her team and says, “Sorry if I worried anybody, but everything’s fine.”
Cyclops looks at her, a bit curious but more concerned. “What is it?” he asks
Phoenix lets out an irritable sigh. “Well,” she answers, looking around at all her teammates, “it seems we’re going to have a change of plans here. We all knew the inside of the facility would have psionic dampeners, but it looks like the outside does too.”
“I assume that means within a one-mile radius of the outer walls,” Storm says, now understanding her friend’s instructions. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Phoenix assures her, “it’s just that if I get any closer, my telepathy is going to shut down, and I’ll be of no use to anybody.”
“Well you’ll still have your telekinesis, you’re far from useless,” Cyclops points out to her. “But the sensors weren’t picking up any lifesigns this far from the base, no minds out here you can just tap into… we need another strategy.”
“What we need is one of those guards, brought back to the Blackbird,” Phoenix says. “Which might be difficult, they could have all kinds of scramblers covering the area.”
“So this could take a while,” Jubilee says, rolling her eyes impatiently. “Why don’t we just bust the front door down? They won’t be expecting that.”
“Because we don’t know what exactly is inside, Jubilation,” Storm tells her. “For all we know, they could have Sentinels in there.”
“So we’ll split into two pairs,” Cyclops says, turning to look at Colossus. “You take Jubilee,” he tells the larger man, and then turns to look at Storm. “And you come with me.”
“I’d be delighted,” Storm says, not too content with the decision.
“So we’re gonna sneak around outside the base, take down a guard, and bring him back here?” Jubilee asks, and Phoenix nods in response. “Well, what if we’re detected?”
“You won’t be,” Phoenix informs her. “These new uniforms we have are designed to mask the X-gene as well as body heat, so you’ll be invisible to any sensors they might have. As long as you keep power usage to a minimum and don’t alert any guards before they have a chance to call it in, you’ll be fine.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Colossus says, “but there’s one other thing, Jean. I’m thinking the black of our uniforms will stand out pretty well, how do we blend in?”
“I didn’t think anyone would ask,” Phoenix says with a smile. “Don’t worry, Piotr, I covered all the bases.”
“Well, almost all of them,” Cyclops teases.
Phoenix gives her husband a playful look, then turns her attention towards the back end of the plane, where she uses her telekinesis to open a tall, metal door. As the others turn to see, four snow-white parkas, lined with fake fur, float out of the compartment and over to each of their designated wearers. The four outbound X-Men take the parkas and move around to different parts of the passenger area, giving themselves enough space to put them on over their black uniforms. “As you can see the matching pants are folded up inside,” Phoenix points out to them.
“So what about us?” Peter asks as Phoenix turns her attention to him. “What do you and I do?”
“We wait until they come back with a guard,” Phoenix tells him.
“And then what?”
“And then, Mister Valentino,” Phoenix says, “you’re up.”
Inside the GeneTech Facility
Seven young mutants pay their full attention to the tall blonde in the white business suit, who stands before them with an almost ecstatic look on her face – as ecstatic as a ruthless, murdering telepath can be. One is a young man with silvery-white hair, who seems to be partly consumed by shadows, his features never fully apparent; another is a young woman covered from head to toe in fiery flames, the only evidence of a person being the charred skeleton that serves as a focal point for the fire; and five young girls, looking to be anywhere from ages six to twelve, all blonde, blue-eyed, and looking like miniature versions of Emma Frost.
“Children,” Emma addresses her charges, “I have some very exciting news.”
{More toys for us to play with, mother?} the collective minds of the five girls asks, earning a smile from their mature counterpart.
“Not quite, but almost,” Emma explains to them. “Charles Xavier is quite a hard man to find, you know.”
“Xavier? Are you serious?” the young man asks her. “I don’t mean to be rude, Miss Frost, but he’s out of…”
Emma shuts the boy up before he can continue, zapping his mind with a small psionic bolt. “If I want your opinion, Nocturne, I’ll ask for it. Otherwise… don’t speak to me,” she warns him.
“When are we going to get to go out and really cause some mayhem? It doesn’t seem like we do much of anything,” the flaming female says. “Not that I’m not grateful to you, Miss Frost, but I feel useless.”
Emma smiles at the young woman’s eagerness. “You’ll have your first mission in no time, Feverpitch. Just continue to be patient. It’s quite a virtue, you know.”
Nocturne just rolls his eyes, but doesn’t make his attitude obvious, so as to avoid Emma’s wraith, at least for a little while longer. Even though she’s a telepath, there’s only so far she can reach into his mind before it becomes impossible to read. It’s a side-effect of his powers that he’s ever-thankful to have, especially in his line of work.
“Now,” Emma says, picking up where she left off earlier, “as I was saying, I have some exciting news. Very shortly, there will be some new friends joining you, my lovelies.”
{Who?} ask the girls.
“Some old students of mine, who have been sleeping for a while now,” Emma answers them. “They were in dreadful shape, but the doctors have made them all better… and soon, they’ll be coming out to play as well.”
“So we’re going to have a full team?” Feverpitch asks. “How many will there be?”
“Five of them, though I was hoping for a sixth.” Emma lets out a sigh as she continues, “But no worries. It’s going to be splendid, you’re going to love them.”
“And then what?” Nocturne asks, not sounding too interested.
“Then,” Emma replies, “the real fun begins.”
Outside
Two figures, one mighty tall and imposing, the other shorter and petite, make their way through the thick, billowing snow of the winter wasteland, peering into the distance through the large goggles that shield their eyes from the harsh cold. Thanks to the white parkas they wear, they nearly blend in completely with the landscape, but must be careful nonetheless; one wrong move and their entire mission could be shot. They figure one of their targets will be wearing similar camouflage, which promises to make things more difficult, but Colossus and Jubilee are always up for a good challenge.
Under normal conditions, they wouldn’t be able to hear each other speak due to the high winds, but Storm was sure to calm the weather down just enough so as to enable communication without the change being noticed. They continue to trek through the snow, only silence between them for the moment, both turning their heads in every direction, looking for a guard to strike at. The sooner they locate one, the sooner they can retreat to the Blackbird, and the real fun can begin.
“I still say we blow the damn door down and charge in, you know?” Jubilee says to her partner. “At the rate we’re going, this is gonna take forever…”
“Yes, it may take a while,” Colossus confirms, “but as long as we don’t get caught, Emma Frost won’t be alerted and probably won’t be going anywhere.”
“And patience is one of the things that will help us be successful, I know,” Jubilee sighs.
Colossus just smiles, and gently puts one of his hands on Jubilee’s shoulder to stop her for a moment. “Just relax, will you? I know you are frusterated, and angry, and want answers… but we must be smart.”
“Is that how you felt?” Jubilee begins to ask, a bit hesitant. “When your parents were killed? After Illyana died?”
Colossus hangs his head and stares down into snow for a moment, as Jubilee’s words trigger a myriad of memories and emotions within him. It’s been a long time since the last of his family was taken from him, and even though it still hurts, he’s at relative peace, and most of the time can remember them all with a smile on his face. That smile creeps back onto his lips as he tilts his head back up and looks at Jubilee.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not the same,” Jubilee says apologetically. “You lost your family, I lost some friends, who may not even be…”
“But you do know what it’s like, Jubilee,” Colossus tells her. “You’ve lost your family too. And your fellow students… they are your family as well. Just like the X-Men are a family to both of us. It’s not a competition. We all feel pain when those we care about pass on.”
Jubilee nods her hooded head. “Yeah,” she responds, “I guess you’re right.” She lets out another sigh, more content than hopeless, and briefly scouts the area once more. She finds nothing she’s looking for, and turns back to her teammate. “I hate to break up our Doctor Phil moment here, but how the hell are we supposed to find anyone in this mess? All the guards are probably wearin’ white just like we are.”
“Most likely,” Colossus agrees, “but I’ll bet you the closer we get to the compound, the better the odds we find someone.”
“Okay then, we should keep moving,” Jubilee says. She squints her eyes and once more gazes into the distance, and can make out a faint silhouette of a large building. “Ah ha.” She points to it, motioning for Colossus to take a look. “There we go. That’s where we need to be.”
Colossus playfully puts his hands on his hips, and asks her, “Do you promise to behave? No blasting down doors, little one?”
“Oh shut up,” Jubilee says with a small laugh. She looks him in the eye and finishes with, “I’ll go with the plan, I promise.”
“Alright then,” Colossus says, satisfied with her answer. “After you.”
A mile or so away
On the other side of the compound, Cyclops and Storm brave the furious weather, plowing forward through the snow unrelentlessly. They’ve not said a word to each other since leaving the Blackbird, and have moved in the direction of the large facility without stopping or slowing their pace. Thanks to the unique sense of vision that each of their powers grant them, they’ve had a much easier time navigating through the winter fury; Storm can filter out the noisey weather around her and see in terms of temperature, while Cyclops has a sort of infra-red view of the world.
As they continue to march on, Cyclops’ foot suddenly snags a jagged rock hidden under the snow, and he trips and almost falls face-down on the ground. Storm, being only a couple inches shorter than him and of proportionate strength, grabs his arm and easily holds him up; they both stop walking so he can regain his balance and his composure.
“I wasn’t going to fall,” Cyclops says without looking at her.
“A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed, you know,” Storm quips. “It would be five less syllables for you to speak to me.”
“I didn’t ask for your help. I certainly don’t need it,” Cyclops replies, his tone almost as cold as the weather. He lightens up a little as he follows up with, “But thank you anyway.”
“I think you’re wrong, Scott,” Storm says. “I think you do need me. And I need you. I am not just talking about our situation right now, either.”
“Then what, Ororo?” Cyclops asks her. “What, our ‘friendship’?”
“Ah, so it does still exist.”
“I’d think of it more as an acquaintance, really.”
Storm shakes her head as she and Cyclops start walking again. “Why did you partner yourself up with me, Cyclops? If you really can’t stand me…”
“Jean asked me to,” comes Cyclops’ answer. “She’s relying more on Peter and Jubilee to find a guard, she figured this would be a chance for you and I to try and work out some of the… issues between us.”
“Still carrying that around?” Storm half-asks. “Scott, the only one here who has issues is you. I don’t care about what happened between us when you broke off from Charles almost two years ago… I’ve forgotten. I’ve let it go. You obviously have not, and I don’t understand why.”
“Well I haven’t exactly seen you making an effort to patch things up,” Cyclops retorts. “And for crying out loud, Ororo, you accused me of trying to kill you. And everytime I’ve been around you since then, you’ve been nothing short of hostile towards me.”
“Because you have treated me with absolutely no respect!” Storm snaps, now turning to face him. “What am I supposed to do, Scott? Tie you down and force you to talk to me?”
“So are you saying you know that I didn’t try to kill you?” is all Cyclops asks in response. “And I’ve always respected you, Ororo, no matter what.”
“Even when I decided to stay with Xavier and not break free of his ‘control’?” Storm asks. “No, I don’t think you tried to kill me… but I was angry, Scott. I felt betrayed. I couldn’t believe you would just walk out on the team like that. I suppose it shocked me even more when so many went with you.”
“Well I’m not going to admit I was wrong, Ororo,” Cyclops informs her, “but we all have our moments. I just did what I felt I had to.”
“I know that,” Storm acknowledges. “I know. And for the record, I respect you as well, I always have. Perhaps that respect increased when you left… it was certainly a bold move.”
Cyclops grins a little at the comment. “Thanks,” he says.
Storm smiles back at him. “You’re quite welcome.”
Before the conversation can go any further, Cyclops raises his hand to his the side of his visor, opening the lense just enough for a small optic blast to bleed through. A thin beam of crimson shoots out from the opening, blasting right over Storm’s left shoulder, and striking an oncoming figure with his gun raised above his head. The guard goes down in an instant, and Storm turns quickly to see it happen in a split-second. She then looks back at Cyclops, who takes off his visor to look at her with his glowing red, naked eyes.
“Now he was trying to kill you,” Cyclops says, cocking an eyebrow in the process.
Storm turns around, and walks over to kneel beside the downed guard. “I wonder if he called in that he spotted us.”
“Let’s hope not,” Cyclops says as he grabs the unconscious man by one arm, and motions for Storm to take the other. “Hopefully no one saw my little display either. We should let the others know we nabbed a guard, and get back to the jet as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll radio in,” Storm says. She wraps one of the guard’s arms around her, then reaches under her parka and taps a small ‘X’ badge on the collar of her black uniform. “X-Men, this is Storm, do you read me? Over.”
“Phoenix here, Colossus and Jubilee are listening, over.”
Cyclops and Storm begin walking with the guard, back in the direction that they landed the plane. “Jean, Scott and I have captured a guard.”
“Excellent. Try and get back here as quickly as possible, Ororo.”
“Acknowledged,” Storm says affirmatively. “We are on our way.”
GeneTech surveillance area
Two armed men dressed in uniforms reminiscent of army fatigues sit before a slew of monitors, each one providing live video footage of various areas inside and out of the facility. The room is spacious but barren, with nothing in it save for the surveillance equipment and a couple of swivel chairs. Working as security guards for a top-secret science lab in the middle of nowhere would normally be out of the question for Bob Stratton and Donald ‘Pops’ Suchodowski, but the pay is excellent, and they only have to work one week a month.
Too bad for them this is one of those weeks.
Neither man is actually performing their job as they should be, however; instead, both their sets of eyes are fixated on a color television screen, with credits scrolling underneath a big ‘American Idol’ logo. Both men are shocked at what they’ve just seen, and their mouths hang open to show it. Who cares about terrorism or government conspiracies or fatal diseases spreading rapidly across parts of the world? What Pops and Stratton have just witnessed… this is what it all comes down to.
“My God,” Pops whispers as he turns to look the other man in the eye. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” Stratton says with a nod, “I’m afraid it is.”
Pops gulps back nervously. “Ruben… he… he really won?”
Stratton lets out a defeated sigh. “Yes… yes he did.”
“HA!” Pops jumps out of his chair, filled with joy. “In your face!”
“Don’t give me that! You know Clay should have won!” Stratton protests. “He can sing better and he’s actually CUTE!”
“Girl,” Pops says, getting on the defensive with a shake of his head and a snap of his fingers, “don’t even. Ruben won fair and square, mmkay?”
Just as Stratton narrows his eyes and attempts to respond with a not-so-witty comeback, a loud clanging noise can be heard coming from outside of the room. Both men turn to the door, and stand silent and still as the noise repeats more and more, becomes louder and louder, gets closer and closer. They both shudder with fear for a moment, but then realize they don’t even know what’s out there yet. They both draw their guns, and slowly walk towards the door, with Pops in front of Stratton.
“I’m gonna take a peak,” Pops says as he cautiously turns the knob on the door. He pokes his head outside and sees the usual: a concrete platform, with a ramp leading down into a tunnel, which stretches on seemingly forever to either the right or left. He narrows his eyes, curious as to the source of the noise, and opens the door just enough to step outside of the surveillance room.
Pops takes a couple of steps outside and makes another sweep of the area with his eyes. “I’m gonna check it out, I’ll be right back,” he says quietly as he walks off.
Stratton shuts the door almost all the way, keeping it open just enough so he can keep an eye on Pops. After a moment, Pops disappears down the tunnel to the right, and Stratton’s eyes widen in horror. “Pops! Get back here!” he yells softly.
Several minutes pass, and there is no sign of Pops. Stratton decides since he can’t see or hear anything, he may as well go find Pops himself. Making sure his gun’s safety is on – he doesn’t want to hurt anybody – he steps out through the door, heads down the ramp, and to the tunnel entrance on the right-hand side. It’s rather dark, so he can’t see how close or far Pops may be, and there’s still no sound save for dripping water in the distance.
Stratton holds his gun out in front of him, and decides to yell out, “Hello?” His voices echoes down the tunnel, but even after several moments have passed, he gets no response. “Hello?” he says again.
Suddenly, Stratton hears the sound of something coming towards him, though it’s very faint. At first he thinks it might be footsteps, but then he figures out that something’s rolling on the ground. He keeps walking forward, towards the sound, until something collides with his feet and almost trips him to the wet concrete.
“Oooeee!” Stratton exclaims as he flails his arms to regain his balance. “That was close…”
As he looks down at the ground, Stratton’s eyes widen with horror as he sees what it is, or rather, who it is. At his feet lays the body of Pops, dirty and wet from rolling on the tunnel ground.
Oh, and his head in missing.
Stratton can’t help but lose it, and he screams in horror as he kicks the headless body away from him. “AAAHH! AAAHH!” he cries out as he begins to sweat. He hears a slight chuckle down the way, and impulsively swings his hands up front of him, ready to fire his gun off at a moment’s notice. He’s a little too clumsy, though, as he looses his grip on the gun and accidentally tosses it down further into the tunnel.
“Shit!” he yells. Not thinking, he chases down the tunnel after it, getting to his knees around where he thinks it may have dropped. As he scours the dark floor, he notices that a new cloak of darkness envelopes him, and looks up to see what it is. His sense of touch registers a warm liquid flowing down his leg as he gazes over the dark green scales and the burning eyes of fire.
Stratton is frozen in place but manages to close his eyes tight as he chants, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…”
And then another head hits the ground.
Right outside GeneTech
His name is Calib Moore. Originally from Rockford, Illinois – on the East side of Alpine – he’s thirty-three, a widower, and a non-smoker. Mildly alcoholic, a little on the narcissistic side, a generally bleak outlook on life… it all went down hill after Karine passed away. She was his true love, the center of his world. They’d been together for almost ten years, married for six. They were going to have children. The doctors couldn’t confirm if she may have been pregnant at the time of her death.
The super-powered people – they were responsible. It was the attack on Chicago a couple years back, when the Masters of Evil blew up the Sears Tower. They attacked other areas of the city, too, and Karine was caught in the crossfire. She actually pushed Calib out of the line of fire; she sacrificed her life for him. And what has he done with that life? Let his mind and body degenerate, let all the negativity in the world wither away at his soul, at who he used to be, leaving little more than an empty shell of a man.
No, it’s not really him. It’s the memories… the imprint of thoughts and emotions into his head. Peter Valentino knows who he is, it’s just difficult to keep his mind together at the moment. He’s never experienced anything like this before; having such an intimate look into the mind of another human being. Jean said it would be a bit jarring at first, but if he stays focused on his mission, he’ll be fine.
Through the main gates… down the tunnel into the ‘lobby’… to the left, and the end of the hallway… to the right, second-to-last door on the left… that’s where Calib’s thoughts tell Peter he needs to go. That’s where the remote control room is. That’s where he can get access to an unguarded computer, one that’s usually reserved for emergency situations. And when he gets there, he can let the rest of the X-Men inside, and they can proceed with their mission.
Disguised as Calib, Peter walks through the blizzard, dressed in the guards’ white camouflage uniform, carrying a busted-up walkie talkie in one hand, and a half-empty medi-pack in the other. He approaches the main gates of the compound, and walks up to the guard on the right-hand side. He recognizes him from Calib’s thoughts; his name is Clark, and he’s one of Calib’s only friends in this place.
“Calib, what the fuck man?” Clark says as Peter approaches him. “What’d you do now?”
“This, uh,” Peter begins, speaking in Calib’s low voice and holding up the walkie talkie for Clark to see, “this broke. Dropped it on a chunk of ice. Messed up my med-bag too.”
“Yeah, knockin’ back some cold ones before your shift again, I see,” Clark says, talking in a mean-spirited way that only friends can get away with. “Go inside and clean yourself up, man, but make it quick.”
“Thanks,” Peter says, and the young man takes a deep breath as the large gates before him peel apart, revealing the dark, dank tunnel behind it. He stands there for a moment, a chill running down his spine from being so nervous. Is he really about to do this?
“What are you waiting for? Get your ass inside,” Clark tells him, and Peter quickly obliges, taking a few steps in and getting well enough past the door so Clark can seal it back up.
The gates shut, and seem to swallow any light that would be in the tunnel. Save for small illuminations lining the pathway, there is only darkness, though it’s not so much that Peter can’t see anything. He can’t see into the actual base yet, though, as after about fifty feet, the passageway curves sharply to the right. And he won’t be truly in the clear until he’s gotten past indoor security.
So far, so good, though. And at least he’s out of the cold. As he walks himself down the tunnel, his whole life seems to flash before him, and he wonders how he arrived at this moment. How did he manage to get assigned to a real mission? How did he manage to get to the Xavier Institute? How did he manage to even be a mutant? Of course he knows all the answers, but looking back and replaying everything in his mind, it seems too extraordinary, like something out of a soap opera, or better yet, a comic book.
A few minutes and several thousand heartbeats later, Peter finally arrives at the entrance into the actual base. Jean didn’t imprint too many details from Calib’s mind other than where Peter has to go; she didn’t want to overload the young man. So he’s not entirely sure what to expect once he actually gets inside, but he knows to get there he’ll have to pass a retinal scan.
“Oooh, Calib,” one of the guards at the door says, “you keep breakin’ stuff like this, they’re gonna start dockin’ pay outta your check, man.”
“Go to Hell,” is all Peter says before he steps up to the retina scanner. He pulls off the protective eyewear and pushes off the large hood, revealing Calib’s bald head and dark mocha complexion. The scanner gets to work and passes over Peter’s disguised eyes, and quickly registers a match.
“All clear,” the other guard confirms. “I’d make it quick if I was you.”
Peter says nothing and strolls through the door, waiting for it to close behind him before letting out a big sigh of relief. He did it; he made it inside. He’s starting to like all the little perks of powers, he never even realized how detailed he could get when changing into someone else.
Peter turns to his left and begins walking, wanting to get to his destination as quickly as possible. “Alright,” he mutters softly to himself, “time to rock and roll.”
NEXT ISSUE: As Proteus infiltrates Emma Frost’s base of operations, the X-Men wait for their moment to strike. However, might the newest X-Man fail his first official mission before it even truly begins? And what does he do when he crosses paths with another intruder who also just happens to be an old enemy of the team? The answers are coming, plus more on the creature in the catacombs of GeneTech and the revelation of the fate of Generation X!
One thing you may have noticed is that I made some references to past events, and if you haven’t read Marvel Omega‘s Uncanny X-Men series from the beginning (I’m talking volume one) then you might not know that those are actually things that happened in this series. In regards to the Cyclops/Storm discussion, those events unfolded inUncanny X-Men #1 & X-Men #1 in a storyarc called Divided Destiny. As for the Masters of Evil blowing up the Sears Tower, you can read about it in the Roar of Thunderstoryline in Uncanny X-Men #2-6. This is my old school work from the 90’s, so I wasn’t quite as polished as I am now, but it’s a neat piece of MX history for you 🙂
And now it’s even easier to give me feedback! Don’t want to bother with that tedious e-mail? Okay! Just post on the new MXU message board, which was announced in the updates and is accessible on the main page. Even if you just post a small comment like “nice job” or “it could have been better”, that’s plenty (though you know what they say, the more the merrier). Of course e-mail is still an option as well. Whatever your pleasure!
Well I hope everyone had a good Memorial Day weekend (mine has sure been interesting), see you soon!
~Ryan
05/26/03
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