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Chapter Text

Shaw Industries Towers:

“Look out the window, Charles and tell me what you see.” Sebastian Shaw turned towards Charles Xavier, moving slightly so the wheelchair-bound man could come and see the vista of Mutant Town, almost all visible from the lofty perch of Shaw Industries tower, almost exactly a thousand feet above the streets. For his part, Shaw looked at the scurrying people- virtually ants at this distance, going about their lives.

Charles wheeled himself over to the window and looked out. It looked deeply ordinary at first, hundreds of people going about their daily business. And then he realized it, amid the expected shades of the myriad people of New York City, there were also blue people, and pink people, people with additional limbs, people with wings. There was even a person flying to- who knew where? For a rendezvous with a lover? To work?

“There are thousands of mutants living down there now, and more arrive every single day, because it’s safer than anywhere else, because they can be themselves. They don’t need to hide, and all the time, my people are finding them work. Inside Mutant Town, yes, but also elsewhere. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Mutants being able to live their lives and make their gifts useful to society?”

Charles raised his eyebrow a little. “I won’t deny you’ve done some impressive work, Sebastian. But you’re asking me if I can fully endorse your schemes to use mutants for profit. I know about your research projects. And some would claim that this is little more than a ghetto.”

Sebastian laughed ribaldly. “You’re fortunate I do not take offence easily, Charles. Those are awfully critical words for someone who owes me seven hundred million dollars. What I offer the world is not a dream, Charles, but a plan. Your rhetoric may move a few movement liberals to post sympathetic comments on their Internet blogs- but what I’ve done is I’ve shown the world that mutants are a resource. One is wasted at their peril.”

Charles nodded. It was a good point, he didn’t necessarily like it, but there was no doubting that Sebastian had materially improved the lives of a great many mutants and shown a way forward in promoting harmony and acceptance, even if he disliked the ebullient capitalism Shaw endorsed. “That may be true for many people, but you know well, that not everyone acts according to their logical self-interest. What happens then?”

Sebastian’s expression changed slightly and not to Charles’s comfort. There was a slightly predatory look in his eyes, not unlike that of a great tiger contemplating its next kill. “If people will not embrace the opportunities I offer them? They will be relegated to the dustbin of history. I have staked a great deal on this, Charles- and more than simply money. I will see to it that my investment pays off.”

Sebastian then slowly smiled and moved over to the table, pouring two generous drams of Scotch, passing one to Charles and taking a sip of the other one. Charles did the same, unable not to savor the smooth burning sensation of the whisky. Speyside single malt. Shaw’s taste never failed to impress Charles.

“You just keep doing your fine work at the school and on the lecture circuit, Charles, and we’ll see that wonderful world you imagine come to pass after all. And if I happen to become richer than Crassus in the process, is that really so bad?”

Charles wasn’t so sure. It all seemed to be going so well, but he knew that it would not, could not be so easy. Sebastian would extract a greater price from him than he claimed to, he was sure, and he could not help but shake the feeling that … other forces would intervene to disrupt the fragile equilibrium of Mutant Town.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow at Charles. “Really, Charles, you worry too much. After all, our dear friend Erik is quite secure in his little plastic prison, his Brotherhood scattered to the wind. We succeeded in neutering the Mutant Registration Act and the Sentinels have been mothballed. There haven’t even been any sightings of the X-Men.” He chuckled knowingly, taking another sip of his drink.

Charles kept his thoughts to himself. It was all true, what Sebastian had said, but at the same time, he could not bring himself to be so confident about things. Magneto was imprisoned, yes, but he dared not assume that would be permanent and if he ever escaped, he had no doubt that the Brotherhood of Mutants would be reestablished. There were other details, ones that he did not care to tell Sebastian, even if he owed the man a great deal. Because he had the sneaking suspicion that, one day in the future, when the X-Men were needed again, it would be to counter Sebastian’s ambition.

United States Superhuman Correctional Facility- “The Vault”

By any means necessary.

Erik Lehnsherr was not Malcolm X, he would never claim to be- even though the label had been given to him in what was a grotesque misunderstanding of both men. However, he’d embraced the credo of ‘any means necessary’, and it had informed his actions, his mission, to make the world a better place for his people.

He smiled slightly wryly. Indeed, he wasn’t Erik Lehnsherr at all, that name was simply a false identity that had become useful as the decades changed and his face hadn’t, as his activities drew increasing attention from the wrong people. Charles knew him as Erik Lehnsherr. That was the name that he was generally given within the walls of the prison. He imagined it was because they feared ‘Erik Lehnsherr’ less than they feared Magneto.

He had been born Max Eisenhardt, once upon a time, though few people living knew him by that name. That name had been buried a long time ago, in a past too painful to recall more than passingly. His nostrils flared slightly. Nevermind being able to see the plumes of ash, or hear the screams of the dying. He could still smell the corpses that he’d been forced to shovel out, the stench of burning flesh. Max Eisenhardt had survived the camps, yes, but he’d died later, in yet another horrible tragedy of flame and ash.

No, he did not feel either of those names were truly his anymore. He was now and truly, Magneto, the Master of Magnetism according to the media- they so loved a catchy sound bite, didn’t they? The man who would do anything for his people. Who had willingly, even gladly accepted the role of villain. Perhaps part of him hoped that people would take the peace that Charles hoped for, after seeing the alternative. But what he’d seen was Xavier’s final sellout, to extract a few paltry concessions on the Mutant Registration Law.

There had, however, been some interesting developments. There was a community of mutants now, that hadn’t existed in the days when he was free. The news that he received was of course, filtered and censored. The official line was that Mutant Town, while troubling in its sheer concentration of mutants, was a well-ordered and productive community. A shining example of the benevolent compromise of the human powers-that-be towards the mutants.

America’s gift to the mutant people.

Theresienstadt reborn.

Oh, that I were free, that I could bring the truth like fire to that place. And crash it about the heads of Xavier and the others who would have us beg from human governments for crumbs.

Magneto had seen the results of that, with his own eyes, heard a million cries for mercy with his own ears. Suffered the agony of twisted experimentation on his own body. Imprisoned as he was, he could do little except, perhaps, be a symbol to those on the outside that felt as he did. A powerful enough thing in its own- but it was not enough for Magneto. He was a man of action. Imprisonment did not wear well on him.

“He’s got that look in his eye again, Jim.” George Corrigan gestured over to his fellow guard. “Don’t like it much. Like he’s some kind of demigod.”

“To be honest, George? Throw a pound of metal in there? He pretty much is. He’s powerful enough they had to invent a whole mutant supergroup to take him down.” Jim sipped his coffee, looking at the panels. “But he’s secure in there. All the wiring’s insulated so he can’t get a jumpstart with anything electrical. No metal allowed. Heck, we’re not even allowed to work if our blood count’s too high.”

“Could he actually- you know … do something with people’s blood?” George asked, looking again at the panel of Lehnsherr looking out at nothing in particular. Deep in thought. Or was he simply biding his time? It was hard to tell. The guy gave him the willies.

“They say he can’t, but I don’t know, man. They spent like half a billion dollars trying to keep this guy under wraps. Public Enemy Number One.” Jim examined another perspective and smirked slightly. “But really. Pretty sweet job. We get 24/7 Danger Pay. My wife’d probably enjoy it even more, though.”

“You ever worry that someone’s gonna, you know, break him out?” George’s slightly nervous posture changed subtly, though Jim was too busy looking at the screen to notice. “Not to you know, interrupt you ogling the guy or anything.”

“I’m not ogling him. I’m watching like I’m supposed to, and naw, who the hell’s gonna be able to break into this place? You can’t even get in here without a million biometric tests.” Jim turned around to face George. “Not to mention all those guards in Stark’s fancy armour.”

“Good point. You’d have to be some sort of shapeshifter or something …” George’s expression changed into an impudent grin.

“... dude, why are you looking at me like tha-” Jim’s words were cut off by George moving with astonishing rapidly behind him. The next sound in the room was the horrid snapping sound of bone and cartilage.

The slightly rotund form of George Corrigan melted away into a feminine, blue form, slinking over to the controls and activating the intercom and initiating the open sequence to the cell. “Door’s open, honeybunch.” Mystique reached into herself, having long since learned how to use body cavities and empty space as storage and pulled out several balls- about a pound or so of high-quality steel, crusted in a thin layer of non-magnetic material. It was enough to avoid the metal detectors, but not enough to avoid the notice of a man who could control all electromagnetism.

“I even brought presents. Merry Christmas, handsome.”

Newsstand, Mutant Town

“Daily Bugle and New York Times, please.” Scott Summers asked the vendor, handing over a five dollar bill and receiving the two papers, flipping them over to examine the headlines. He immediately felt his stomach drop, his jaw setting hard.

“Scott? What’s wrong?” Jean Grey asked. Scott didn’t say anything simply showing her the headline of the Daily Bugle.

MUTANT TERRORIST MAGNETO ESCAPES FROM VAULT

ASSISTED BY UNKNOWN MUTANT

EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS INSIDE

FULL STORY ON PAGE 4-7

“Oh God.” Jean quietly murmured. She took a deep breath. “They’ll send the Avengers after him. Maybe they’ll bring him in soon. Right? Or the Fantastic Four.”

Scott exhaled sharply. “Yes, because that worked out last time. They don’t know him.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. You can’t possibly be thinking about the X-Men. We haven’t been a team for years. We gave it up with the Act.

Scott remained quiet for a moment, both verbally and mentally. I know. We wouldn’t be ready to face him anyway.

Scott. We were never ready to fight Magneto. We were teenagers. Kids. Jean’s voice took on a slightly harder note. I don’t regret being an X-Man, Scott, but we had no business being superheroes. It’s a miracle we survived.

We were good. We were a good team, Jean. We defeated Magneto twice. Beat the Sentinels. The Juggernaut.

Jean reached up her hand to Scott’s face, frowning slightly in concern. “You were a good leader, Scott. You really were. But that didn’t change the fact that we were sixteen year olds. Kids. Going up against supervillains. Promise me you won’t get into this again.”

“Jean …” Scott frowned. He knew there was no way he could make such a promise. He sighed. It’s like you said, Jean, there are no X-Men. I’m not going to go marching up to fight Magneto myself.

Okay. Jean replied, though something in her was less than reassured about the entire exchange.

Chapter Text

Xavier Institute of Post-Secondary Education Student Diner

“I can’t believe it. Magneto escaping? Not good news at all.” Kitty Pryde sighed as she checked the latest updates on the situation. “Hopefully the Avengers catch him before he takes the Amtrak to Mutant Town. Unless he’s got some other plans. What do you think he’ll do, boys?”

“To know what a villain will do, you simply need to know what he has done in the past.” Kurt observed with a wry grin. “He’ll attempt to come here to recruit a new Brotherhood and then go seize some government facility. Perhaps he’ll stymie the Avengers and Fantastic Four, and the Professor will have to make a new team of X-Men!”

Piotr for his part listened to Kurt while he finished off a bacon cheeseburger. It was natural that Kurt would be raring to go into action of some sort or another- it was rare not to find Wagner in the midst of an adventure. Piotr himself, however, found the situation to be rather more disconcerting than Kurt did. And he wasn’t certain that Magneto would simply try the same thing again.

“The three of us! We could save the whole world together! It would be magnificent, ja?” Kurt grinned at his friends.

“You know, Fuzzbutt, Magneto isn’t some pirate program in the Danger Room. If we lose, we don’t get to go get a drink and laugh about it.” Kitty observed, reaching over to steal some of Kurt’s fries while he was distracted. “He probably graduated first or second in his class in Applied Supervillainy.”

“And yet, Katzchen, I do not think you would hesitate to defend the world if it came to it.” Kurt raised his eyebrow at her. “And do not think I haven’t noticed you trying to steal my fries. You had plenty of your own!”

“Please. He shows his big mouth around here and starts making trouble, I’ll drop a rock on his bucket head. Easy peasy. And then I can go back to trying to get Pete here to join our DnD game.” Kitty boldly snatched away some of Piotr’s fries. “Speaking of, I know you’re the strong, silent guy on our Three Amigos, but what do you think about all this?”

Piotr took a moment to consider what he was going to say. He never felt confident with words. He was much more comfortable with his hands, building, drawing pictures, physical and artistic things. It was partly that English was not his first language, though he’d learned it quickly enough. It wasn’t Kurt’s either and he always had something to say. He took a breath.

“I think Magneto will come here, as you say. He will look for followers, and he will find them. I do not think we will enjoy peace here much longer.” He sighed. “I hope he can be stopped before he comes here, but I do not think it will be so.”

“And that is why, Herr Rasputin, we must stand together.” Kurt replied, a bit of seriousness finally creeping into his voice.

“Couldn’t have said it better.” A familiar voice spoke up from the back, belonging to Scott Summers, standing beside the Professor.

“Piotr, you are correct.” The Professor’s gaze settled upon them. Though he always seemed serene and assured, there was something undeniably tense about him now. “And that is why Scott and I have been conversing just now. About many things, but most particularly about recreating the X-Men.”

“... seriously? Is this the recruitment pitch? Are you actually asking us to join an all-new, all-different X-Men?” Kitty nearly stammered, nerves and excitement and a million other emotions colliding with each other.

“Quite so, Kitty.” The Professor replied, making no visible reaction to her relative glibness.

Somewhere in the Midwestern United States:

“I hate it here, Aunty Irene.” Rogue complained, desperately trying to keep herself warm with yet another cup of hot tea. It had been a particularly cold winter, even for the North, and she’d never quite got over her Southern roots, even though she’d spent as much of her life away from Mississippi as there.

“We won’t be here much longer, Rogue.” A gentle, warm voice answered her, matched by a serene, if aging face. “Your mother will be here soon enough with her … friend, and we’ll be on our way.”

“How much longer? You goin’ on Momma’s words or you see something in your visions?” Rogue sat down, wrapping her hands around a cup of tea that should have been scalding hot. She gripped just a little too hard, though, and the cup shattered in her hands. “... Again?!” She looked at Irene. “When am I gonna get some damned control over these powers?”

“Language, Rogue.” Irene chided mildly.

“Momma says worse language all the time, Aunty Irene.” Rogue countered in a huff.

“Your mother is a woman of many gifts, but she’s terribly unladylike.” Irene actually smiled slightly. “You on the other hand, there is still hope for. And we’re not on a mission, you know … you don’t need to insist on calling yourself ‘Rogue’ all the time. Though I seem to have started doing it.”

“Momma says it’s important that we use our mutant names.” Rogue replied. “And besides, I don’t feel like an Anna-Marie. I’m Rogue. Fits, don’t it? Can’t touch anybody and now I can’t barely touch things either. Not to mention bein’ on the run and all.”

“I suppose you have a good point.” Irene replied serenely, getting up to get Rogue another cup of tea. It was then that she suddenly felt faint and had to catch herself, images flooding her mind. Attackers. “ROGUE!!!”

It was then that the walls of the house they were staying in blew apart, Rogue having just enough time to grab Irene, using her body to protect her relatively frail Aunt.

“Oh they are gonna regret that!” Rogue practically snarled as she burst out of what was left of the house, towards converging armoured men. She heard the deafening cacophony of automatic fire, but they bounced off her skin like hail. She hurtled towards a group of the troopers, knocking them over like bowling pins.

Then there was a brilliant flash of light and Rogue felt a much more solid impact strike her in the chest- and this one actually hurt as it knocked her to the ground. “Okay … whichever one of y’all did that, you’re just gettin’ me mad here.” And that’s when she noticed a huge shadow blot out the sun.

HALT MUTANT. WE ARE CHARGED WITH NONLETHAL APPREHENSION BUT WILL USE LETHAL FORCE IF NECESSARY. SUBMIT TO ARREST.

Before Rogue could say anything to the contrary, the gigantic robot fired again, hard enough to create a crater in the ground, taking Rogue with it. This time, she was genuinely winded, fighting for the breath she needed to do anything before the gigantic robotic hand succeeded in taking grabbing her … it was then that she saw the Sentinel be methodically taken apart, to fall all around her like a gentle rain.

When she managed to pull herself out of the crater (she still sometimes had trouble getting her damned flying abilities to work) she noticed all of the men neatly apprehended, wrapped up in their own armour. And there, smirkingly taking a selfie with the Sentinel’s head and a particularly disgruntled looking MRD captain was her Momma herself.

“Momma!” Rogue shook her head. That Sentinel had hit her harder than she’d thought. But she still had enough presence of mind not to seem overtly grateful. Or admit her total bafflement about how that had happened. “Took you long enough to get here!”

Irene peeked out of the house, instinctively knowing that it was safe now. “On the other hand, Raven, your timing is exquisite as always. May I ask where he is?”

“Waiting for his dramatic entrance, I’m sure. You know, mutant archvillains are all the same. Always wanting to make a big impression.” Mystique smirked, showing the picture to the MRD captain. “Not bad, honey. But it’d be so much nicer if you’d just smiled some.”

“Mystique speaks glibly, but it is important to make one’s presence known in an appropriate manner.” Magneto declared, floating down from the heavens in an appropriately grand crimson-and-royal purple costume, somewhere between practical battle armour and flamboyant royal garb, topped with his iconic helmet. “A pleasure to meet both of you. I see my return is not a moment too soon.”

“Yeah, well, uh, thanks for the save … Magneto?” Rogue replied, a little uncertainly. “So uh, when were you gonna tell us you were bustin’ Magneto out of jail, Momma?”

“Oh, about the same time I was going to snarkily point out that it was ironic that the first three members of his new Brotherhood are all girls. Hey Magnosexy, say something dramatic for YouTube. We’re going to make your glorious return go viral.” Raven held up the camera in classically irreverent fashion. Magneto seemed to have other plans, though, and neatly lifted the device out of Mystique’s hands.

“No. Not in such a casual fashion. I will make my presence known, but I will do so in a matter more befitting the inauguration of a new age in the history of our species.” Magneto did, however, refrain from destroying the iPhone, simply floating it back down to an amused-looking Mystique. “And kindly do not call me ‘Magnosexy’.”

“Aww, you worried about your big manly dignity?” Mystique smirked up at him.

“No. I do not wish to embarrass your poor daughter any further.” Magneto actually smiled thinly in return as he floated back down to Earth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rogue. I trust you were not hurt by the Sentinel?”

“I coulda taken that Sentinel.” Rogue couldn’t help but grump, even though she had to admit she was slightly intimidated by the man. It wasn’t just his obvious mutant power. There was something about him that simply compelled attention. “But uh, thanks for the help. It did kinda get the jump on us.”

“Indeed.” Magneto replied, grim intensity returning to his visage. “By reviving the Sentinel program, humanity has effectively declared war on us.” He turned towards Rogue. “Will you fight for the future of your people.”

“If it gives me a rematch against one of those tinmen? Yeah, sure. Don’t like the idea of big things picking on little people, anyhow.” Rogue replied easily, hands balling into fists. “Can’t say as I’m not looking forward to a rematch.”

Observing the scene, Irene’s lips curved into a deep frown. Today’s events could only bring disaster. She’d already seen the grim events in the back of her mind. They were possibilities of course, rather than certainties, but they were still … shocking ones. Camps. Massacres. On either side, both sides together. There was something else, though, less catastrophic but no less painful for her. The image- images, so many of them and so clear, of Anna-Marie fighting against them.

How can I tell Raven? She’d never believe me. And even if they did, what good would it do?

Alleyway, Mutant Town:

“P-Please don’t hurt me. I’m not, I don’t have special powers- I just look different!” A slightly simian young man crouched in the corner of a dead-end alleyway, putting up his hand to protect his head, tears running down his face, looking up at his assailants in stark terror.

“Doesn’t matter, mutie. You’re still an insult to our race.” The leader of the thugs. “When you end up in Hell, tell `em the Friends of Humanity sent you.” He raised his bat and swung it down, only to get it chopped neatly into several pieces, a blur solidifying itself into the shape of a fairly short, squat man, foot-long claws extending from each of his hands.

“Could say the same about you, bub.” Logan smirked, striking a fighting pose. Seven of them. All of them bigger than he was. All of them armed. None with drawn guns, though. Knives, baseball bats. A chain. He grinned, showing prominent canines. “So what’s it gonna be, girls? Dance or run?”

“Your funeral, genejoke.” The leader said, dropping back to let his goons take charge while he drew a gun. They were coming around from both flanks, not one at a time. Someone had seen fit to give these jokers a little training. Probably a former Marine or something in their ranks. Not that it meant anything, except a little fun for Logan.

He’d been taking down guys with basic training since the days of Bull Run and Gettysburg. This was just a little bit of light exercise. Not that they could hurt him much, between his metal skeleton and healing factor, but they weren’t hitting him- he moved far too fast for them. It made things a bit more challenging not to kill them, not to simply cut their guts out or slice their heads off.

Charley’s been getting to me. Making me soft. They’d have killed this poor kid.

As it happened, the claws were more distraction than anything else, the real blows came mostly from knees and elbows reinforced with adamantium, a headbutt that would reduce a brickwall to dust. There weren’t really any ironclad guarantees they’d walk away from this punishment, either. He knew damn well how insidious head injury could be. Not that he cared that much.

The whole thing was over in maybe twenty seconds. Wolverine circled back to help the poor kid get on his feet.

“Not the best neighbourhood to be out in, kid. Keep to the main streets.” Logan huffed slightly, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

“Yes, sir … t-thank you, sir!” The young man replied as he scampered away.

And you claim not to have a noble side, Logan.

Yeah well, I was bored and they gave me practice. What’s up, Charley?

There’s something I wish to talk to you about, urgently.

Lemme guess. It got something to do with your ol’ pal Erik breaking out. We gonna throw him a ‘welcome back’ party?

Logan.

Logan smirked and took a puff of his cigar. Just spit it out, Charley. I gotta date with a bottle of whiskey and an ol’ friend from up North.

Very well. I want to talk to you about the X-Men. I intend to create a new team.

Aw hell, Chuck. Why didn’t you just say so? Though I’m not the world’s best team player.

You have experience that the others will need, desperately.

Yeah, yeah. Let’s talk about it. And not this telepathic stuff either. Where ya at, Charley?

I’m giving a lecture on mutation at the University. I’ll be finished in twenty minutes.

See ya there.

5 Madison Avenue, Headquarters of the Hellfire Club:

“I trust you have a good explanation for the debacle in Ohio, Shaw? Those Sentinels were not supposed to be operational for months.” Donald Pierce snarled, fingers clicking an unnaturally syncopated rhythm on the desk around which the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club sat. “And such brilliant design, too, to make them vulnerable to … the number one mutant criminal in existence. Such vision.”

Sebastian’s face remained impassive, his back turned to the others. “If you wish to challenge me, Pierce, you may.” The tone was neutral, but the menace was unmistakable, and no more came out of Pierce’s mouth.

“Disrespectfully as Pierce phrased it, this is a problem, Sebastian.” Emma Frost finally replied smoothly. “ I trust Shaw Industries is working on a means of ensuring such an important investment is not so vulnerable to a single attacker?”

“The Sentinel used in that operation was an early design prototype. I am not particularly happy with the MRD for having used it, but that being said, we’ve accomplished something. Magneto will expect all of them to be similarly vulnerable. As will any other mutants observing. Rest assured, they will find a very different reality.” Sebastian finally turned around to face the other members of the Inner Circle.

“Let us not forget, however, that Magneto serves a valuable purpose for our goals. There is a long and bitter war coming. What distinguishes this one, however, is that the Hellfire Club will be in effective control of both sides. We will gather the best, the strongest, the most talented mutants under our roof. And whether the White House, or the House of Lehnsherr rules America when all is said and done, the Hellfire Club will be pulling the puppet’s strings.

That is our mission. Our holy crusade. And nothing will sway us from this goal.”

“Bravo, Sebastian! Well said! To the Black King and the Hellfire Club!” Harry Leland lustily shouted, raising an overfull glass, followed in due course by the other members of the Club, even Donald Pierce.

“Inspiring as always, Sebastian. But what about Charles? Where does he figure into your grand plan? A fool we can swindle out of his dream?” Emma asked sweetly, eyes significantly looking him up and down. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Charles is, as you say, a fool. He’s given over his life’s work to us, meshed his public image to my work, invested his credibility and fortune in his school and Mutant Town. I suspect he’s trained many of the Inner Circle’s future members. Its enforcers. Its minions. Of course, we won’t be relying exclusively on him for very long now, will we, Emma?” Sebastian smirked faintly. “I think it’s time you told the others about the Massachusetts Academy.”

Emma’s smile could have won an Oscar for Best Actress if it wasn’t sincere- a near impossibility to tell with her. “Of course, Sebastian. The Massachusetts Academy is the Hellfire Club’s direct equivalent of Charles’s school in Westchester County. As we’ve been funding much of his work, we’ve been able to steal much of his technology. And when it’s operational, we won’t have to rely on doing our recruiting secondhand. We’ll be training our future members directly, in the ideology of the Hellfire Club and not Charles’s tiltings at windmills.”

She took a sip of her drink. “A new generation of loyal servants of the Hellfire Club, every single one of them gifted with mutant powers as well as familial connections, wealth, talent. Imagine the possibilities.”

“I look forward to seeing your debut as Headmistress, Emma.” Sebastian replied with a smirk, his hand trailing along her shoulders and back as he crossed the room. “We all have our parts to play in this grand design of ours.”

Emma suppressed a slight shudder as he touched her. You may be master of the Club for now, Shaw, but only because I see your reign as better for me than the alternative. You had best ensure that never changes.

Mutant University Botanical Gardens:

Ororo hummed a faint melody to herself as she carefully examined all of the plants in the greenhouse, the misters giving them the moisture they needed. They were doing well, ever since she’d made a few suggestions to the Head of the Botany Department. Thankfully, he’d been the sort of man who was amenable to growing tips. She wished, of course, that she could enjoy these plants without the restriction of even a glass roof, but it was impossible. The cold of a New York winter would kill them almost instantly.

Winters were difficult sometimes, even though she understood that it was a part of the natural cycle here. She missed the reliability of the dry and rainy seasons of her home in Africa.

“I figured I’d find you here, Ororo.” Charles said, a smile spreading across his face as he wheeled his way into the greenhouse. “You’ve done good work here.”

Ororo turned to face Charles, walking over to him and planting a friendly kiss on the top of his head, a gesture that made Charles blush ever so slightly. “Thank you, Charles. It’s nothing, though, compared to what you’ve done here.”

“Thank you, though … I fear for that legacy more and more, Ororo. I trust you’ve heard the news about Magneto?” Charles looked up at her, his expression becoming graver by the second.  

“I have.” Ororo replied, before setting herself on a counter facing him. “Is it true, Charles, that you’ve been speaking to several of your former students about creating a new team of X-Men?”

“How did you know?” Charles replied, surprised.

“A little kitten told me.” Ororo replied, a slightly enigmatic expression on her face. “Are you here to ask me to join this recreated team, Charles?”

“... I am, Ororo. We could be facing an unprecedented crisis, at a very sensitive juncture, and your power would be a formidable addition to any team, as well as your wisdom.” Charles looked at her. “Scott, Logan, Kitty, Piotr and Kurt have already agreed.”

Ororo looked at him seriously for a long moment. “Do you truly believe this is necessary, Charles? You taught us the value of peace and harmony, but if you reestablish the X-Men, we will be using violence. Less, perhaps, than others might, but one does not train a mutant strike force for pacifistic reasons.”

“It is not something I do lightly, Ororo, I assure you.” Charles replied. “But I fear that if nobody resists Magneto, stops him, that he will tear all we’ve worked for asunder.”

Ororo’s lips pursed slightly. “I will join this group, but only if you promise that the X-Men will only be used when absolutely necessary. There is a thin line between using power such as ours and abusing it.” She put her hand on Charles’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. “I also expect you will go and get a good sleep tonight. I don’t doubt you’ll be asked to appear on several television programs soon.”

“You’re probably right, Ororo.” Charles offered a slightly tired smile. “I trust you’ll be keeping me on the straight and narrow.”

“Always, Charles.”

Department of Mutant Affairs, Washington DC:

“I cannot believe you are giving that maniac a national platform, Gyrich.” Valerie Cooper fumed, grabbing the Co-Director by the wrist so he could not simply depart and ignore her. “William Stryker is a greater menace to America than any mutant. Even Magneto doesn’t preach genocide.”

“Preaching genocide, Miss Cooper? A little strong, don’t you think? Look. The man’s a little strong in his views. Got it. But we need some balance for this advisory panel. Since they chose you, and we’re asking Xavier and that Scottish harridan. So I reached out to Senator Kelly and to the Reverend, who I’ll have you know is an American hero. Shining military record. And is regarded very highly in the faith community.” Gyrich wrenched his arm out of her grip. “And grab me again Cooper, and I’ll have you fired before you know what hit you. This illusion of equality here? That’s what it is. An illusion. I have friends in this town. You don’t.”

“Don’t threaten me, Gyrich.” Valerie retorted, her eyes narrowing. “You know damn well that the President asked that I come here. But while we’re talking about your colossal fuckups, let’s talk about the Sentinel in Ohio. I can’t imagine your platonic lifepartner Shaw will be too fond of that.”

Gyrich positively snarled. “That Sentinel nearly succeeded in apprehending some very dangerous criminals. Let’s not forget what those outlaws did to Ms. Marvel. I might not be friends with the woman, but she’s an Avenger in good standing and a patriotic American. If Magneto himself hadn’t shown up in person, we’d have apprehended the bunch of them. And we’re working on solutions to ensure that his magnetic powers do not work on Sentinels.”  

“Remind me again why we are spending billions of dollars to build gigantic killbots to attack American citizens. Because the last I checked, that’s not exactly compatible with the notion of democracy.” Valerie Cooper glared at him. “How are we going to convince mutants to cooperate with us if we’re building weapons of mass destruction aimed against them? Are you looking to get into some sort of arms race? Their genetics against your robotics?”

Gyrich scoffed. “Extremism in the defence of liberty is no vice. Mutants will cooperate with us because the alternative is so bad they’ll see no other logical choice. And there’s no comparison. Mutant superpowers are a lottery. Our technology becomes more powerful steadily.”

“My god, Gyrich. Listen to yourself.” Valerie tried not to simply explode in anger, that’d only entrench him. “I want you to actually listen to yourself talk. Is this what you want? These are American citizens you’re talking about.”

“America’s always been threatened as much by people inside it as outside.” Gyrich looked at her from behind his sunglasses. “You’d best think about what you’re going to do when it comes down to it, Cooper. Because I think it will. It always does, in the end.”

Valerie Cooper didn’t know what to say to that. She wanted to punch the man in the face. She wanted to resign on the spot. But part of her genuinely, truly, feared that he was right.

Fringes of Mutant Town:

“So this is Mutant Town? Looks like kind of a dump.” Rogue observed, looking out of the window of the brownstone building that Magneto had purchased for their use. It was understood that he would be coming and going to say the very least, as he assembled a new Brotherhood of Mutants. It was a big building, they’d be able to fit several people in it.

“Yeah, well, it’s a ghetto. Just like Magneto says.” Mystique replied, looking uncharacteristically serious. “This is where they’re herding us so they can do whatever the fuck they want without the rest of America getting to see it first hand. Sebastian Shaw would stop at work camps, I guess, but William Stryker and some of those other fucks would take it all the way. They’re already starting to send their goons into Mutant Town to kill people.”

“You think this is gonna come to a real war, Momma?” Rogue asked her. It wasn’t that she was afraid of fighting. Truth was, she was getting tired of running. And now that she had the ability to hit back. She’d like a rematch with another one of those giant robots. And if she ever ran into those Friends of Humanity goons, she’d give them a good hiding.

“Hasn’t it already? We’re all supposed to sign up with the government so they can track us. And they’ve clearly started building Sentinels again. And let’s not forget the armed troopers they came with.” Mystique reached out with a gloved hand and stroked Rogue’s face softly. “Rogue, baby, they declared war on us. We didn’t start it. But I’ve seen what happens when people don’t fight back against their oppressors. But it’s not going to be us, Rogue. Because we have the power to fight back.”

Rogue nodded. “Bullies gotta get a taste of their own medicine. I get it. But what are we fightin’ for, besides just our lives? Seems to me we gotta fight for something bigger and better than just fightin’ back.”

“Honey, you want big ideas, you should go talk to Magneto. Momma’s more of a tactics girl than a fearless leader.” She smirked faintly.

“... so uh, Momma? Is he your boyfriend or whatever? Magneto.” Rogue asked quietly. She wasn’t sure how she felt like that. Magneto hadn’t been unkind to any of them, but he seemed like the sort of man who went ahead with what he wanted, regardless of what happened to smaller folk along the way. Charismatic men were dangerous.

“Boyfriend implies a lot of commitment that just isn’t there, honey. Don’t think you really want the details, but let’s just say he’s a man despite all that bluster, and I’m a woman. And Momma’s gonna leave it at that, because you’re already looking like you might gag.” Mystique smirked.

Rogue rolled her eyes. “I was just checkin’, sheesh! Didn’t want to miss the cue to start calling him Dad or whatever.” She smirked. “Wouldn’t, though. He’s Magneto. I got my Momma and my Aunty Irene.”

“Damn right, you do.” Mystique smirked. “Come on, let’s go get something to drink. This serious family discussion by the window is so cliche, it’s killing me.”

“You know Aunty Irene doesn’t like it when you give me booze.” Rogue smirked slightly. “Superstrong or not, I’m not carryin’ you up to your room after you drink a whole bottle of raspberry vodka, Momma.”

“Irene doesn’t like a lot of things. I love her dearly, but she’s not the easiest to deal with sometimes.” Mystique laughed. “We don’t see things eye to eye.”

“Do you see eye to eye on this? Aunty Irene’s been quiet this last little while.” Aunty Irene was never exactly a loudmouth, but she’d been more withdrawn lately. “I mean, she doesn’t seem as into the Brotherhood idea.”

“She supports it, but you know how it is with her abilities. She often has to see the worst possible outcomes of something.” Raven sighed slightly. “If Irene opposed it, do you think she’d be here?”

“I do.” Rogue replied. “Because she loves us. Because people swallow stuff they don’t like for the people they love.”

Raven stopped and just looked at her daughter for a moment. “When the fuck did you get to be more mature than your Momma?”

Rogue smiled. “Ain’t too hard, Momma.”

Raven laughed. “Not really.”

Chapter Text

Apartment Building, Mutant Town:

Jean Grey stared at the phone. It was Scott. He was going to talk to her about the team, she knew it. He wasn’t a good liar. He probably didn’t know that Ororo had already told her- so she was trying not to be furious with him. Why should she be, anyway? It was his choice. And he’d never been entirely comfortable with the disbanding of the team.

He’d always been Xavier’s star pupil, the one he’d chosen as his heir of sorts. And driven hard, harder than anyone except for Scott himself.

Charles Xavier. Everyone admired the man so much, so damn much. He was the foremost advocate for mutant rights. He was the man who, alongside Moira McTaggart, had identified the mutant gene in the firstplace. He had helped hundreds of mutants in desperate need, and he was working to extend that program to literally thousands of mutants in Mutant Town.

She wished him success. It would mean a better world.

But she was free to also consider him a conniving, hypocritical bastard. He’d done things to her mind without telling her, put blocks there so she couldn’t access her powers. He’d manipulated all of them into becoming vigilantes before they were even of legal age. She was fifteen years old the first time she put on an X-Men uniform. Scott was sixteen. Of all of them, only Hank had been an adult and he’d not even been twenty. They were kids and he’d sent them to fight the most powerful mutant in the world. And somehow, they’d not only survived but won.

Not because they were that good. They weren’t. Not because they were lucky, though sometimes they were. But because Magneto refused to kill young mutants. And he was willing to accept defeat in order to ensure that. And Charles had known that and gambled on it. Of course, they’d fought other opponents without similar scruples, and they’d got better.

Why don’t you understand that, Scott? He’s using you, like he uses everyone.

But what the hell was she going to say to Scott? Scott adored the Professor, looked at him like the father he never had. And that just made Jean’s heart ache, because she knew it would never be enough. Scott had so much potential- they all did, and Charles would wring out every ounce of it for his own purposes. And he was going to do the same damn thing to a whole new group of young people.

And why can’t I just tell him? What am I afraid of?

The message signal on the phone continued to blink and Jean continued to simply stare at the phone.

Danger Room, Xavier Institute for the Gifted:

“Just like old times, right?” Kitty asked, casting her eyes around the gargantuan empty space that was the Danger Room. She’d been here before, many times, but somehow, this felt different. For one thing, the uniform was a bit different. “So do you think there will be more flamethrowers or more spinning knives? My money’s on flamethrowers.”

“Cyke knows better than to pull the knives on me.” Logan smirked. “Mine are better.”

“That is true, mein freund. Though I do not mind mine either.” Kurt grinned, admiring the heft of a pair of sabres in his hand. “It will be good to match my blade with yours again, Logan.”

“Somehow I doubt this is going to be a game.” Ororo spoke up. She tried not to let her hatred of the room show through too much. She appreciated its value, but it was constraining, despite its huge size and so far underground.

Right you are, Ororo. Scott’s voice echoed from the loudspeaker above them. The lights of the Danger Room then immediately went dead and were replaced with an all-too-familiar urban scene.

“High noon.” Logan smirked, casting his eyes around. “Nice touch, Scotty.”

Thud.

“Did you hear that?” Piotr asked, instinctively armouring up.

Thud.

Logan nodded popping his claws. “Yeah, I heard it.”

Scott himself walked into the simulation, in full uniform. “The program only terminates on completion or failure of the program. The Professor has the kill switch if he needs to pull it, but otherwise, it’s just us here. Ororo, I want you to take to the air, get above whatever that is. Kitty, Kurt, take point for civilians. Logan and Piotr, I need a screen.”

They did what they were told quite quickly, though Scott could already discern potential trouble, beyond the fact that they’d never really worked as a team before. Logan knew what to do better than just about anyone else on the team- himself included to be honest, and that meant potential trouble with authority. Logan was tolerating him right now- he’d have to be careful with that one. Kitty was almost too eager to get on with things- and if she was on the line with that, Kurt was far over. Scott could tell that Kurt still considered this a game.

Piotr was a little hesitant to move, looking for others to get the notion and Scott wondered if he’d be able to show the necessary initiative. Storm on the other hand, well, he was just really glad she was around.

Thud.

Thud.

It was then that Kurt teleported back in. “We have incoming!”

“Finally.” Logan smirked, drawing his claws. “I’m tired of sittin’ around an’ waiting for this.”

It was then that the nearest building exploded in a mess of dust and broken brick and the Juggernaut came storming through the building, hurtling fast. Scott knew from painful past experience that trying to stop the Juggernaut was an exercise in futility. They’d have to wait until he’d stopped.

“Everyone scatter! You can’t stop him, don’t even try!” Scott barked out. “Storm, make this guy’s path as rough as possible. Slow him down. Hail, sleet, anything.” For his part, Scott let loose an optic blast just ahead of Juggernaut’s fleet, creating a significantly sized hole in the street below. As he expected, Juggernaut had to stop in order to avoid the pit trap. It was then that Scott hit him again, as hard as he could, hoping to knock him right into the hole.

But unfortunately, Juggernaut had managed to grab onto the edge of the pit and was vaulting back up. With forward momentum, Scott might as well have hit him with a watergun. Thankfully, a small hailstorm centered around Juggernaut made him less sure of his target and Scott was able to vault to the side before he was trampled flat. Scott frowned intensely. They’d never really managed to defeat the Juggernaut without a telepath on hand. Physically, he was almost totally invulnerable and far stronger than any of them had ever been.

They’d need a better strategy.

He heard the distinctive sound of Logan’s claws popping. “Wolverine!” Scott shouted. “Don’t.” He wasn’t even sure that adamantium would pierce the Juggernaut’s hide.

Logan growled. He wasn’t stupid, and he knew damn well Scott thought he was more of a hothead than he really was. He’d read the files, and what’s more, he’d actually fought people of that power before, by himself. Yeah, he would’ve been a liar if he would’ve said he defeated the Hulk, but he walked away from a fistfight with him. Not many people could claim that achievement. Right now, though, he was giving the big orange guy a good distraction.

Juggernaut wasn’t slow. He could get up a good speed when running, that was for sure. But he didn’t have super speed. He wasn’t especially agile. Logan could dance with him. And that’s just what he started doing. Right into the middle of Stormy’s hailstorm, mixing it up. He smirked with triumph when he saw a slash hit him and draw blood- though he felt the resistance of Juggernaut’s flesh- the wound was a tag, nothing more. It was already drawing shut, about as fast as a similar wound would on him.

He hoped someone would get a bright idea to hit him while he was busy. They couldn’t probably put him down, not without something really brilliant, but if they could keep him off balance and unable to do frontal charges, they’d take it.

“Hey Pete, you should try this guy out.” Since it was a simulator, they didn’t really have to worry so much about property damage as in real life. It was satisfying to see a semi trailer hurtle into the Juggernaut, probably damn near a hundred miles per hour. It wouldn’t really put much hurt on Juggernaut, but it’d knock him off his feet.

“Hey … they finally got someone with some muscle.” Juggernaut smirked slightly as he got up, shaking off the blow almost instantly. It was then that he found himself suddenly waist deep in the street and … left there. With some teenaged brunette smirking at him. And that’s when he smelled a sudden whiff of brimstone and a slight weight on his back. He reached up to swat at it, but he heard that damnable sound again. Before he knew it, his helmet was off.

Scott didn’t hesitate. Juggernaut was tough. It’d take everything he had and and everything Storm had. Concussive force and powerful electricity right into his head. It would be brutal, excessive, cruel to anyone else. All it did, though, was make the Juggernaut angry. And it was already becoming plain that the simple involuntary twitching of his muscles- or a deliberate attempt to flex them, it was hard to tell, was slowly breaking him free.

They could do this all day, and they’d never take him down. Scott frowned.

“End program.”

Logan lit a cigar just as the program ended. “End program? Just when it was gettin’ interesting, Summers? We were doin’ pretty well, I thought.”

Scott shook his head. “No. Xavier picked this to make a point.” He sighed. “We need a telepath. We’ll never be a complete team without one.”

“Could you not get Jean to join the team again?” Piotr asked. “She is both a telepath and telekinetic, yes?”

“I do not think that would be wise, Piotr. Jean has her reasons for not wishing to join us. If it were otherwise, she would be here.” Ororo spoke up, very reasonably. She was good friends with Jean, more perhaps than any of the others that were here.

Scott just nodded, sighing inwardly. It was not something he particularly wanted to discuss at length with the others and Ororo probably laid it to rest a lot more gently than he might have. He frowned slightly. It’d been a default of sorts that he’d become team leader. It’d seemed obvious enough in the old days why he was the leader, even if he’d doubted it constantly. He was the only one with a tactical awareness, the only one who took the job truly seriously.

But things were different now. Logan was a better tactician than he was- Scott had never been in an actual war, and Logan had been fighting in god even knows how many of them, and Ororo was more well-liked, more respected and dealt with everyone better than he usually did. But for some reason, everyone kept looking at him. Scott Summers. Heir to the Dream.

But like always, his doubts didn’t discourage him so much as they motivated him. He’d just work harder, be better, learn what he needed to learn and apply it. Scott had been falling down his whole life and he’d got remarkably good at picking himself back up again.

But it’d be nice sometimes if he didn’t have to get knocked down in the first place.

Antechambers of the Hellfire Club:

“You’ve never seen fit to come to me while I’m performing my rituals, Sebastian. You’ve always seemed most skeptical about my faith.” Selene smirked faintly and turned towards Sebastian. “Has something changed your mind?”

Sebastian stood somewhat stiffly. Despite being a powerful mutant, as well as one of the world’s wealthiest and most influential men, Selene put him ill at ease. It started with the fact that, despite his being well over six feet, she could look him in the eye. Her unusual height gave her undeniable beauty a slightly menacing aura. There was the matter of her powers, an ill-defined ability to drain life energy and use it to animate objects and control other’s minds- as well as keep her alive through centuries at least.

There was something else, though. He understood ruthlessness well, even malice, but there was something about her that was impossible to comprehend with a modern, rational mind. She claimed to be a sorceress, to have been present throughout most of history, to be the high priestess of an Apocalypse God of unimaginable power.

“ I have no wish to say anything, one way or the other about your faith. What you believe is your own business. What I am concerned about is your loyalty to the Club as we enter what I believe will be a trying time.” Sebastian’s look hardened a little. He may have been unnerved by her, but he would not show fear to her face.

She didn’t immediately answer him, instead turning her back to him and continuing on with her ritual for a moment, at one point delicately pulling the straps of her evening gown over her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Fearsome as she was, Sebastian could hardly take his eyes off her. It was then and only then, covered only by shadow and incredibly long hair that she turned for a moment to speak to him.

“This war that you are trying so hard to avoid, Sebastian?” She smirked coldly and walked over closer to him, whispering in his ear. “It’s inevitable. My god would have it so.” She circled him, fingertips dancing along his shoulders and arm. “Instead of spending so much time trying to avert it, Sebastian, darling, you should be applying yourself to surviving it.”

Sebastian’s lip curled slightly. “Your god? That dead idol you serve? What does that relic have to do with anything?”

Her laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls. “Oh ye of little faith. He is a living God, Sebastian. And it is his will that all shall war against each other until only the strongest survive and the world is pure. Cleansed in fire and blood.”

“The world will never be pure.” Sebastian replied with distaste. “And whatever the reality of this being, you took a sacred oath of allegiance to the Hellfire Club. Don’t forget that oath, Selene, or I swear you will regret it.”

The room began to glow with a faint blue light, and Selene turned away from him again, raising her arms and speaking in a strange language towards the huge, grotesque idol she claimed symbolized her god. Sebastian watched for another moment, and then, feeling a wave of disgust and something else, excused himself from the room quickly to more laughter from her.

Seventh Heaven Nightclub:

“Warren, darling, you’ve outdone yourself again.” Betsy laughed as she dragged him out onto the dancefloor. “You simply must tell me who the DJ is.” She grinned and began dancing with him.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she? I think she calls herself Dazzler.” Warren replied with an easy grin, arms looping around her waist. He leaned close so he could speak right into her ear. “All those fancy lights? It’s actually her mutant power. She makes light out of sound.”

Betsy laughed. “Not particularly interested in her trade secrets, darling.” Her arms snaked behind her to pull him closer. Warren didn’t particularly need the hint, wrapping his wings around them.

Warren.

Through the pounding music of the club, and with a very, very attractive woman dancing right against him, it was unlikely that he ever would’ve heard something verbal. But the Professor’s telepathic voice cut right through all that and he could hear it as clearly as if he were speaking to the Professor in his office.

Don’t suppose this one could wait until tomorrow, Professor? I’m a little busy right now.

It can’t. As it happens, I’d like to speak to Ms. Braddock as well.

Betsy for her part immediately stopped dancing, narrowing her eyes and looking up at him. “You mind explaining what your old professor’s doing in my head?”

Well, there goes my plans for tonight, Warren thought to himself, only to receive the mental equivalent of an eyeroll from the Professor. “Well … he’s a mutant. With powers to talk to people mentally.”

“I know all about fucking telepathy, Warren. I’m one too.” She sighed. “And I can tell you’re planning on going over to see this man. Guess I’d like to know what the hell he’d like with me, too.”

For his part, the Professor was waiting in the VIP section of the club, which he had booked entirely for himself. He looked at them both for a moment, as if sizing them up.

“You’ll apologize if I don’t stand to greet you, Ms. Braddock.” Charles finally said with a bit of a wry smile. “Warren, a pleasure as always. I apologize for intruding on your … leisure.” The Professor’s expression grew more serious. “Doubtless you have heard the news about Magneto.”

Warren nodded. “I have. Charles, though I’m flattered by the offer, I don’t think I can do that again. You know I will help you any way I can, politically, with business- but Charles, I was never that good. The wings are pretty, but they’re not going to intimidate Magneto.”

Charles nodded. “I understand, Warren. As it happens, though, it’s your friend I’m asking about. Ms. Braddock- your unique abilities may be desperately need-”

“Call me Betsy.” Betsy replied smoothly. “I’m not one for formalities, famous last name be damned. So basically, you want me to join the X-Men?” Warren looked surprised for a moment and she shot him an amused little look. “Not too many handsome mutant boys with white wings, love.” She turned back to Charles. “And why should I want to join the X-Men, Charles Xavier?”

Charles had a neat little speech about responsibility prepared, that would have worked very nicely with someone with a temperament like Scott or Ororo, Kitty or Piotr. But he knew, without the use of his telepathy, that it would leave Betsy Braddock utterly cold. He had a better idea.

“I think you’re deeply bored, Betsy. I can’t guarantee much, but I can promise you that being an X-Man is not boring. You want a chance to really use and develop your mutant powers. Am I wrong in any of these assumptions?”

Betsy laughed throatily. “You weren’t joking, Warren. He really is good. Fine, but I’m not making any handshakes until I get a drink.”

Warren. Have you spoken to Jean lately? She hasn’t been answering any calls.

I don’t know what’s happened, she’s been … I think she’s always resented things a little. But it seems to be getting worse lately.

We shall speak more of it later. I’m deeply concerned about her.

“As I said, Professor Xavier, you do make a convincing pitch. But I’ve other obligations and I can’t help but imagine the timing of your offer has something to do with Magneto’s escape from prison.” Betsy spoken evenly and coolly, taking a delicate sip of the drink that had finally arrived. “Simple excitement is all well and good, but I’m not terribly eager to battle Magneto.”

Xavier listened patiently. “I’m aware, Betsy Braddock, that you model, and have rather extensive social considerations. I do not blame you for being hesitant to potentially confront Magneto, but I can assure you, if nobody does- there will be no social calendar to speak of. Nor, perhaps, a society at all.”

I know you want respect more than anything else. I cannot promise you’ll be loved as an X-Man, but you will have respect. You also want to feel needed, to be of practical use. I can promise that to you.

Betsy’s lips curled slightly downwards. She did not particularly like being talked to mentally, even though she understood why Xavier had chosen to do that. Or perhaps she was just felt that his words had struck a nerve. He really did know her as well as anyone, certainly more so than the handsome but slightly vapid gentleman who’d accompanied her to this club. She looked the Professor square in the eye.

“I’ll join your team, but I’m not signing any bloody contracts. If I want to leave, you won’t try and stop me. And if you don’t want to put up with me, well, suppose it’s only fair, yes?” At least the Professor had the decency not to smile in response. As for her, she needed a cigarette.

Xavier Institute:

The Xavier Institute for the Gifted in Westchester County, New York, had been operating as a mutant school for the better part of fifteen years, though only in the last half-decade had it done so openly. The difference between the old days, in which there might be only a few students resident at a given time, and now, where there were nearly two hundred mutant students registered was Stark. It had forced the development of a proper school schedule, with defined classes held in accordance with the New York state curriculum.

Piotr Rasputin remembered first coming to the Xavier Institute as a far younger, more awkward man. It had been much more quiet then, with only about ten other people in the building. As it was, though, he was waiting for one of the school’s current students, a junior in the school.

“PIOTR!” He had only a moment to turn towards the sound before he was virtually pounced upon. “You should’ve texted! Told me you were coming!!!”

“Illyana.” Piotr replied with a soft chuckle. “That would have spoiled the surprise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Illyana replied brightly, pulling away just slightly from her brother and looking up at him. “I know the score. You hate texting. You hate computers. You probably wouldn’t even use email if you could get away with it.”

Piotr couldn’t help but shake his head. “You have been talking too much to Katya.” It was clearly a conspiracy between his friend and his sister. They were going to try and make him into a technophile. He knew it. “Hopefully you don’t have any weekend plans. I thought you might enjoy staying with your brother in the big city.”

“No, I’d rather stay here in the middle of suburbia boring myself to death. Of course!” Illyana smirked. “You get tickets to any shows? Been awhile since I’ve seen anything on Broadway.”

“As it happens, yes, Katya’s roommate is in a show and the three of us are going to opening night.” Piotr paused for a moment. “Maybe you know of her? Mary Jane Watson?” Broadway was, after all, one of Illyana’s abiding passions.

“... wait. Kitty’s roommate is Mary Jane Watson? Are you actually serious?” Illyana’s eyebrows shot up. And Piotr could swear a bit of a flush came into Illyana’s cheeks. “No. You’re s … you’re kidding me. Don’t lie, Piotr.”

Piotr laughed. “To you, snowflake? Never.”

One of Illyana’s eyebrows dropped, but the other remained cocked with interest. “So … Kitty. She’s … just like a friend, right? I’m not gonna have you guys making out through the movie?”

It was Piotr’s turn to turn pink at that. “We are friends. I do not think I am her type.”

“You know, for a giant steel colossus, you’re a total dork. But I love you anyway, dorkface.” Illyana smiled and hugged Piotr again.

Elsewhere in the Xavier Institute:

Logan had been out of sorts since the abortive Danger Room simulation- if Chuckles had wanted to make a point about having a telepath, he could’ve damn well said so. And as for the Boy Scout, Logan was annoyed with him too. He was beginning to wonder if being part of a team was a mistake. Maybe it would be better if he just got on his bike and went away. He worked better on his own. There was less to hold him down, hold him back. He could administer justice his own way. Maybe he could even do the same to Magneto.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar scent. From almost anyone else, he would’ve stalked away, but instead, he turned with an annoyed growl towards Kitty. “Not really in the greatest of talkin’ moods, Pryde.”

Kitty Pryde jumped down from a tree not far from where he was, landing with the practiced grace of her namesake. “Can’t imagine why you’d be in a lousy mood. I’m not super happy about that either, you know. The Professor could have just told us.” She looked at him intently for a moment. “Don’t go, Logan. We need you here. We really do.”

Logan pulled out a cigar, lighting it, halfheartedly hoping the stench of it would drive her off. “Really? I’m not exactly the team sort, half-pint. `Sides, I don’t like half the people on the team.”

“Who said liking has anything to do with it? We were working together just fine.” Kitty’s nose wrinkled slightly at the strong strench of the cigar, but she moved closer to him anyway. “We need someone with actual experience doing hard fighting. And Scott needs people who can tell him like it is. If you’re gone, who’s going to do that?”

“Thought you two were like peas in a pod these days.” Logan replied with distinct annoyance in his voice before letting out a short, harsh sigh. “Guess I shouldn’t be so hard on the Boy Scout. Kid means well.”

Kitty sat down next to him, her dark eyes meeting his. “Scott and I do get along, Logan. But it’s nothing like … Logan, you’ve been more of a mentor to me than my own damn parents have been. Please don’t go. We need you. I need you, and you need us too.”

“I like you bunches, pumpkin, but I don’t need anybody.” Logan replied, as gently as he could, before taking another big puff of his cigar.

“Bullshit.” Kitty replied passionately, her eyes narrowing slightly, before her anger gave way to a small laugh. “We’re the X-Men. X-Men don’t run out on each other.”

“We’ve been X-Men for a couple of days, Kitty. Don’t think that counts. The real team broke up a long time ago.” Logan took another long drag off his cigar, turning a good quarter of it to ash.

“So what? We’re going to be so damn much better than the old team.” Kitty turned her gaze over the hill at the Institute. “You should stay. At least for awhile.”

Logan sat there in silence for a moment. “Damn it, Kitty. Fine. I’ll give this thing a chance. But if I’ve had enough of it, you don’t stop me, got it?”

“Got it, Logan.” Kitty replied, gracefully keeping any smug tones out of her voice.

St. Ignatius’ Catholic Church, Mutant Town:

Many people who did not know Kurt well did not know about his religious inclinations, that he found deep solace and strength in his faith. He knew that difficult days were coming, one way or another, and so it was that he found himself, kneeling in prayer at St. Ignatius’, one of tragically few churches that would accept him as he was, without an image inducer. He began reciting the first prayer he’d ever learned, the Pater Noster, saying it first in Latin, then in German, and finally, in English. He wasn’t sure precisely when he’d picked up the habit, but there was something comforting about it. No matter how many roles he might play in his life, it all went back to God.

Our Father, who art in heaven …

Hallowed be thy name.

Kurt knew that whatever was to come, he couldn’t lose that connection, that sense of hope and belonging.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven

It was never easy to do God’s work, nor even to figure out what that was. Kurt did not claim to be special or unique.

Give us this day our daily bread,

And forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us,

It was impossible to forget all the goggle-eyed stars, terrified whispers and pointed insults that had been delivered to him in his lifetime, but he could forgive them. He had to. Grudges had a way of festering into hatred, and hatred would surely destroy them all.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

It was easy to give in to hatred and bitterness, though, just as Magneto had done. He would need all of his strength, and a little of the Lord’s too, if he was to prevail.

For thine is the kingdom,

And the power, and the glory

For ever and ever

Amen.

Having said the words, Kurt added some of his own thoughts, speaking now in his native tongue:

God in Heaven, please give me the strength to do what is needed, and the wisdom to know what is right. If I must fight for peace, bless me that I may endure and that those with bitterness and hatred in their hearts learn the ways of love and peace. Protect my friends, my family, and all the innocent people caught in the middle.

I don’t want to fight, but neither will I run. Grant me your strength and wisdom, Lord, and guide me to do what is just and necessary.

Thank you for all the blessings you have given me, and for the harsh lessons you have taught me. I am your faithful servant, now and always.

Amen.

Jean’s Apartment, Mutant Town:

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message earlier, Scott.” Jean said with a heavy tone in her voice, pouring herself another cup of coffee. “There are things we need to talk about.” She sat down next to him. His hand instinctively reached out for hers and she let him, though part of her wanted to inch her hand away.

“I know you’re not going to be joining the team, Jean.” Scott replied evenly, giving her hand a little squeeze. “And that’s okay. I mean, the door is always open. Always. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We all understand. Really.”

Jean wanted to believe him- knew that Scott was fooling himself as much as anyone. He didn’t understand, how could he? How could he understand? How did one put into words the feeling of having one’s mind taken apart and reassembled in a slightly different way? How could she tell him that? That, despite his good intentions, the Professor was willing to take ethical and moral shortcuts? That she could never really trust the man?

He needs to know the truth.

Scott.

Yes, Jean?

There’s things you need to know about Xavier. Things that happened. I’m .. going to show you some things from the past. It’s not going to feel very pleasant, but please, please bear with me.

Okay. Scott’s psychic voice sounded tense and coiled, no doubt nervous about what was coming.

She started to show him memories, of her being in a nearly comatose state after her friend Annie died right in front of her eyes. The sessions with the Professor in which her powers were systematically limited and shut down, for her safety, but without her consent. Without her knowledge, until very recently. Her dreams of the tiny burning bird that always flew out of the window, of the stout house that Charles had built around her innermost thoughts. The overwhelming feeling that he had taken, trapped, removed, cut out something of hers, something vital and important. 

She wished she could see the look in his eyes as they pulled out of the psychic reverie. He looked rather shaken by it, though.

“Do you understand, Scott, why I can’t trust him? Why … I’m afraid that you do trust him?” Jean finally asked.

Scott’s face tensed up for a moment and then released. “The Professor is going to have to face up to that. What he did wasn’t right, even if maybe it was necessary. It wasn’t right at all. But this is about more than Xavier. It’s not just his dream, Jean. It’s mine too. And the X-Men are part of it. If Magneto has his way, we’ll be at war, a war without victors. Only victims.”

“The X-Men are Xavier’s project, Scott. They’re his. We were his when all this started. His star students, his research project! It’s even in the name. X-Men. Xavier’s Men. You saw what he did, what he’s willing to do for what he thinks is a noble goal. What will he be having the X-Men do, Scott?” Jean’s gaze was intense, fiery, unrelenting.

Scott met it with calm, but steely resolve. “No. I’m the leader of the team. Charles will accept that, because if he doesn’t, there will be no team. Jean, I’m not okay with what happened, but there will be an X-Men, because there needs to be. And I wish, I wish I could have you by my side, Jeannie. But I won’t press you about it, I promise.”

Jean had to close her eyes for a moment, because she knew that there was no pulling him back from this. And that once he became an X-Man, his life would become the X-Men, and there’d be little or no room left for her.

Scott, if you do this, it will eat up your whole life. I can’t just be pushed aside.

I’m not going to push you aside!

Scott. I know you believe that. I just … I know how dedicated you get to causes.

She wasn’t going to make him decide between her and the X-Men- such a thing would be callous and cruel. But some day, not too long from now, she feared, that decision was going to be made for them. She remembered how all consuming being an X-Man was from when she was one of them herself. How much the job ate up all that you were, all that you could be. For someone as dedicated to duty as Scott?

“Jean?” Scott spoke quietly, using his voice this time, not his psychic rapport. “Jean, I love you. More than anyone, anything. We’ll get through this, and I promise you, if the X-Men are never not needed, or if it turns out I don’t have to be or shouldn’t be in charge, I’ll go. I’m doing this because I have to.”

Jean leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I love you too, Scott.” So much.

Chapter Text

Bethlehem Evangelical Alliance, near Mutant Town:

It wasn’t an unusual sight to see a sizeable group of mostly young men enter into the church- youth groups operated from the church basement on a regular basis, as well as the Spanish and Mandarin-speaking evening church services. Tonight’s gathering was of an entirely different kind, held in a secret annex off of the basement. The congregants were just as faithful as the ones before, but alongside the Bibles and commentaries were weapons. And along the walls were larger, more powerful weapons.

The Reverend McKinnon was at the head of the group. “Gentlemen …” He cast an eye around the room. “And as I see, a few ladies as well. We are at a crisis point. The end days are upon us and Satan’s power extends, not only to the world we can see, but to the invisible world of the human genome. This is a fallen world, make no mistake about it. But as Christians, we are not of this world at all, but instead trapped in it!

To fight for humanity, to fight for purity, to fight for our survival is a battle with stakes beyond this world. We purify the world to advance the coming of the glory of the Lord. Those who fall in our struggle- and mark my words, some standing here today will not live to see victory- they will ascend to Heaven, to guide and inspire us from beyond. They can harm our bodies, but they cannot touch our souls! If we stand firm, my brothers and sisters, we will see victory. We will see the coming of the Lord, written in fire and foul mutant blood!”

His voice dropped into a lower register. “Tonight, we make our first strike as Purifiers. Brother Ramirez, show our new brothers and sisters what the Right Reverend has given us!” The Brother duly dropped a shroud, which hid several suits of gleaming armour, emblazoned with the cross.

“The Crusaders who went to Jerusalem took the Holy Land by the force of their faith, yes, but also through the strength of their steel. These suits will give you the advantage you need to attack even the most powerful mutants! To attack them and burn them and send them howling back to their infernal master! It is our imperative to use every weapon at our disposal to destroy that which Satan has wrought! The Holy Word, yes! Prayer, yes! But also war, bloody war!

Tonight, we write our gospel on the streets of New York City, in the midst of the accursed devil’s den that they call Mutant Town! And after tonight, every single one of the hellbound fiends will know that there is no safety from the godly! No safety from the brave warriors of purity!

One vision! One purpose! One human race! PURITY!”

The crowd began chanting ‘PURITY’ in unison, in a thundering wave of approval that seemed to literally shake the walls. The Reverend’s eyes rolled back slightly in his head as he felt the power take him, the Holy Spirit move him, as it would many of those amongst him as they felt the Spirit move through them. And when the Spirit had passed, they would gird themselves in steel and go out to war. This time, the crusade was not for dirt and stone in Israel. It was for the spiritual Israel, the greater body of the human race.

Samaritan House Shelter, Mutant Town:

The people working at the shelter had long-since become used to people trying to throw rocks through the windows, to the extent that they’d simply barred up the windows. And they’d caught a firebug or two trying to burn down the shelter in the past. But this was different. It was manifested first as a gentle thud on the ceiling, which was easy enough to dismiss.

The banging on the doors was less easy to dismiss. The doors were locked and barred and more than strong enough to keep any normal individual at bay. But what came through the doors was terrifying- men, yes, but clad in ominous powered suits, with bright white crosses crudely painted onto them. And immediately after that, the gunfire began. The invaders seemed concerned with nothing but murdering the mutants and staff inside. They’d sealed off the building so no one could flee easily. A sympathetic police officer on watch for that night ignored the frantic calls from inside.

When the gunfire finally ended, the Purifiers began lighting the building on fire with gigantic plumes of flame from the flamethrowers on their armored suits. When their work was done, and the building was beginning to catch on fire, they left. The police finally arrived soon afterwards, along with the fire department, almost totally helpless to prevent the conflaguration. In the midst of the ruins, however, they found something singularly astonishing.

“... officer, I think this one’s alive!” Sara, one of the firefighters dealing with the blaze, bent down towards the badly burned, but undeniably breathing young woman. “... Miss?”

The young girl began coughing and amazingly, got herself to her feet. Sara could see swollen bruises forming on her skin. In truth, as he got close to her, it was clear that she wasn’t nearly as badly burned as he thought she was. She seemed only modestly harmed, though he’d insist she went to a hospital for observation. And to talk to police. “What happened here?”

“I … I heard banging on the door and then they were ….” She closed her eyes. “Killing everyone. Am I the only one?” Her eyes opened wide again in terror, terror mingled with something else.

The firefighter helped her to her feet. “Are you feeling any pain?” The young woman- probably no more than nineteen or so, shook her head. “What’s your name?” She seemed to be free of serious injuries but it was difficult to know for sure. Asking her questions kept her mind occupied, could either diagnose the level of shock or actually keep it at bay.

“... Kayla. My name’s Kayla.” The girl replied. And then there was a strange smell of ions in the air, and Sara gasped to see a terrifyingly familiar form descent, in robes of crimson and scarlet purple. The police officers on the scene immediately dropped to the ground, putting their weapons up. But those weapons just as immediately slipped out of their hands, crumpling into useless bits.

Kayla felt a shiver of fear at first when she saw Magneto descending from the skies, but there was another voice in her, that told her that he would exact the vengeance that the law wouldn’t dare to. She then looked up, looked him dead in the eye when he descended.

“I am sorry I did not come sooner, Kayla.” Magneto spoke, with a voice that sounded like cold steel wrapped in princely velvet. Unmistakably European, but difficult to trace to any particular country. He could see little of his face behind his helmet, but what she did see were the eyes. There was sorrow in those eyes, but also deep-seated rage. “I know, better than most, what you must be going through. I can offer you sanctuary, yes, but I can offer you something else, Kayla Connors.”

“... what’s that?” Kayla replied, her dark eyes matching his. I’ve got nothing. Not even the shelter. But having nothing meant having nothing to lose.

“Vengeance for your lost friends. But also, a chance to fight for a better future for our people. One in which no mutant must fear the wrath of human bigotry. Come, join me and my Brotherhood of Mutants.” Magneto looked around vaguely at the terrified, virtually paralyzed police officers and firefighters around him. “Or you can go with them, to be interrogated for no purpose, and perhaps, placed into one of the mutant prisons on some flimsy pretext. The choice is yours.”

As the enormity of what happened became more and more clear, Kayla felt tears falling on her face. Hot ones, as much out of rage as out of sadness. She felt the anger, the wrath from the core of her body, outwards, into her hands, and then in an arc around her, sending debris flying and knocking back several of the first responders. Only Magneto, covered in a quickly assembled energy field remained seemingly untouched.

“... yeah, I’ll go with you. I’m tired. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of being good and turning the other cheek and being shit on for it. Yeah. Sign me up.” Kayla looked up defiantly at Magneto, who responded with a faint smile. And then, in a blinding flash of light, they were both gone, leaving behind a stunned scene.

The Hellfire Club:

“If I didn’t know better, Emma, I would think that you were sad about the events that transpired.” Sebastian looked at the newscast. It was certainly sobering and unpleasant, distasteful. But surely there was a way to turn this unfortunate event into an advantage for them.

“Several young mutants of worth were doubtlessly slaughtered. I wouldn’t say I was sad about it, Sebastian. Angry. I want to find these zealots and make them suffer everything those mutants did tenfold.” Emma’s eyes glared at the television. Deny it though she might, Sebastian could tell a part of her was affected by it. For all her studied disdain, she really did have a certain strange affection for young people. He’d chosen her as the headmistress of the school for a reason, after all. “And what about you, Sebastian? Eying the carnage with detached amusement? Shall I tell Tessa to leave her social calendar free for the afternoon?”

“Emma.” Sebastian chided her quietly and for now at least, the imperious White Queen said no more on that score. “I want to to know where these zealots got their weaponry, their training. I want to find the power behind them. And when I find who is responsible, I will tear their heads off with my bare hands. After I’ve wrung every ounce of political advantage out of this that I can, naturally.”

“You’re thinking of the Sentinel Program, aren’t you, Sebastian?” Emma replied, her lip curled in distaste. “You know that the powers that be aren’t going to regard this favorably either, even if they hate mutants too. They want control.”

“The Sentinels, Emma, are a tool of law and order, not pillage and massacre. They are equipped for non-lethal apprehension and neutralization. They are legitimately developed, sold and used by national governments, as opposed to by a militia of religious fanatics. And while Sentinels may have been designed with mutants in mind, they’ll be just as potent against these Purifiers if need be. And, most important, the Sentinels are under my control.” Sebastian poured himself a scotch. “I trust you can bring forth some sincere tears for the inevitable press conference? I don’t cry so well, but I can bow my head and murmur pious lies with the best of them.”

Emma delicately sipped her wine. “Oh, don’t worry for me, darling, I’ll speak very convincingly. And it will of course make it easier to place certain restrictions on the students at the Academy. Time in which our version of events will sink in, one way or another.”

Sebastian got up and went over to the window, looking down at Mutant Town. In the far distance, he could see the smoke and the ruin of the shelter. He would have to quietly forward money to have a similar structure built, directly within his orbit and under his supervision. The Hellfire Club’s assets, the Purifiers would find, if they were so unfortunate, were far better protected. “I’ll leave you to your preparations, Emma. I’m told the Tokyo branch wishes to make me an offering.”

Emma watched Sebastian go and then turned her attention back to the coverage, icy blue eyes narrowing at the screen. Sebastian was mostly concerned about the Sentinels, about using the chaos resulting from this attack to his own political advantage. What really caught Emma’s attention, though, was the brief sighting of Magneto. He’s in Mutant Town. She knew enough from the files on him that whatever plans he’d had, they would be accelerated by this outbreak of violence.

He delicately withdrew her phone from her pocket and made a call, on a special secured line, directly to Charles Xavier. Perhaps the two of them could exchange some worthwhile information. And if nothing else, she would be able to divine Charles’s reaction upon seeing him. Not that she could read his mind of course, not without a very considerable effort on her part, but simply because no man’s inner thoughts were free from her. Sebastian’s damnable implant protected him from her telepathy, but not from her words, spoken or whispered. And oh, how much power a simple touch could wield as well.

I will find a way to profit from this bloody tragedy, and at the same time assure that it does not happen again. It won’t do to have my new students unduly terrified before they begin their training in earnest.

Play your games, Sebastian, and I will mine. And perhaps one day, you’ll be bowing before me.

The Reverend McKinnon’s Residence:

It was late in the morning when the Reverend was finally able to go to bed. Hopefully Dorothy wasn’t too worried about him, he’d said he was going to be out late with a special prayer group. He wondered idly if she thought sometimes that he was gambling again. I’ll make it up to her. He would never regret doing the Lord’s work, but it was also the Lord’s writ that a man should love and honor his wife. Maybe next week, they’d go see a gospel concert and have dinner together.

He went into his bedroom and saw Dorothy sleeping. Reverend McKinnon couldn’t help but smile. Dorothy, you’re as beautiful as the day I married you. He undressed and then climbed into bed, reaching over to turn off the light. And then in a nearly indiscernable flash, he felt an incredible searing pain and looked over to see his hand, stuck to the bedstand with a knife, the knife sunk inches into the wood. And instead of his beloved wife, he saw a horrifying sight, a mutant harlot with blue skin, red hair and terrible satanic yellow eyes.

“Hello Reverend.” Raven practically purred as she easily pinned down his other hand and wrapped her hands around his throat. He tried to kick and struggle with all of his might, but her grip was too strong. Just as he was about to pass out, though, she relented for just a moment, grabbing his hand and tying it quickly to the bedpost. She then produced another knife, this one far wider around and very, very sharp looking. “Do you watch Game of Thrones?”

“You … you cannot hurt me, whore. Do your worst.” McKinnon managed to spit at her. Her eyes glittered cruelly as she went up to wipe it off with a hand.

“I love that show. I love it because for all the pretty robes and beautiful scenery, it’s about human cruelty. But you know all about that, don’t you?” She looked down at him, and there was no hint of a smirk this time. “Magneto told me to make an example of you. Usually I just do this sort of thing quickly, quietly, mostly painlessly. But for someone who machine guns and burns homeless children in their sleep? I can make exceptions for them.” She put the knife against his cheek.

“My wife.” McKinnon managed to say. “What have you done to Dorothy?”

“Knocked her out for a few hours. She didn’t kill mutant kids. You did. A lot of them, and you’re going to suffer for at least a few of them.” And then she held his head fast in an iron-strong grip. "Ever wondered what it would be like to be flayed alive like the marytrs?" She began dragging the knife along his cheek, slowly, slowly, precisely. 

After a minute or so of flaying and screaming, Raven changed her plan slightly and dragged the blade across his throat, slashing down to the bone in a neat stroke. When he had bled out (mere seconds with how deeply she’d slashed his throat), she continued her grim work. Magneto wanted a bloody example, and he would most certainly get one.

Xavier Institute:

Charles Xavier put down the phone, feeling a distinct headache coming on. Emma Frost wanted to talk to him, about the events in the city no doubt. She’d mentioned something about presenting a united front in the face of difficulty, but he didn’t doubt she wanted to try and figure out his response. As to that, he hadn’t a clue. There had been twenty-three mutants in the Samaritan House Shelter when it had burned to the ground, with only one survivor. A young woman who had gone off with Magneto.

Later that very night, a well-known preacher with ties to the Friends of Humanity and William Stryker’s Purity Crusade had been found murdered in his home. The details had been revolting- apparently his face had been peeled off of him and lay to rest beside him, but he didn’t doubt it was a retaliatory strike with the direct approval of Erik. The bloody response would do nothing to bring justice to those who had been slain, it would only perpetuate the cycle of violence.

Which is precisely what Erik wants, of course. Blood for blood. He won’t be satisfied until the populace of Mutant Town has become an army of his.

“Professor?” Scott called out as he walked into the room. “We need to talk about some things.” His voice sounded tight and grim.

“Of course, Scott.” Charles answered, turning around. “Do sit down. No doubt you’re as disturbed by last night’s events as I am. And how many times do I need to insist that you can call me Charles?” His smile faded slightly as he saw Scott’s expression, though.  

Scott nodded. “I am … but that’s not what we need to talk about. Jean’s told me everything, Professor.”

“Scott, you don’t know what I had to deal with. When Jean was young, she had no control over her powers. And they were … beyond description. If I didn’t limit them, there is no telling the damage she could have done. I regret not having told her sooner, but she may have tried removing the blocks before she was ready. I’m still less than certain that she is capable of handling that power, Scott.” Charles regretted some aspects of what had happened with Jean, but he firmly believed he had made the right and only decision.

“It was her mind, Professor. And you didn’t give her the chance to make the choice. Which goes against everything you ever taught me. She’s a grown woman, and a strong one. And it begs the question- who else has secrets that you’ve taken out? What about me? How can I know it was my head injury that makes it so I can’t remember until I was twelve?” Scott’s voice had broken now, and he was openly angry. Charles couldn’t see his eyes, but he could imagine the glare directed at him. “How the hell are we supposed to trust you, Professor?”

Charles looked slightly shaken by Scott’s sudden attack, born as it was out of empathy for his beloved Jean and his own, deeply personal pain. He sighed wordlessly. “Scott. Everything I have done, has been so that we can live in a better world. There are things that needed to remain hidden, just as at first, I desired to keep the school a secret. Was I right? Was I wrong? It is hard to know. You must know, it pains me to make these decisions. But someone needs to do that, and nobody else was there to help me.” He sounded old and weary, he knew and now, increasingly, he felt it.

“They aren’t your X-Men, anymore, Professor.” Scott declared, with an audacity as breathtaking as the steely confidence with which he said it. “The X-Men are my team. I’ve told them about this. We will consult with you as necessary. We’re fighting for the dream, but we will do it our way. I also want you to hire someone strong and capable to assist you with the running of the schools. Someone who can help you as you need, and someone who can stand up to you and say ‘no’ if they have to.”

“... this is my house, Scott.” Charles looked up at him, distinctly annoyed. “You need me, Scott. Do you think you’re really ready for sole leadership?”

“I know we need you, Professor.” Scott replied. “But we’re not sure we can trust you. You’ll have to earn that trust again. And part of earning that is learning to give up sole control.”

“Very well, Scott.” Charles replied. “It seems I have little choice in the matter.” He could, of course, compel Scott to change his mind. But what would that do? Instantly prove every suspicion Scott had against him to be true. Perhaps it would be a blessing in disguise.

Streets of Mutant Town:

The protest march had begun outside the town, precisely two days after the attack on the shelter, two or three thousand marchers in formation, carrying Friends of Humanity banners, quotes from the sermons of Reverend McKinnon and thinly concealed, a considerable number of weapons. The police had immediately done their best to set off a cordon of the streets to let the protesters pass through with the minimum of trouble, but they had been subject to a steady rain of garbage from the rooftops of Mutant Town’s grim tenements. On the ground, mutants picked up and hurled rocks at the protesters. When the march went past the smouldering ruin of the Shelter, the Friends of Humanity protestors were met by a countermarch of mutants in elaborate costumes, bearing pictures of the deceased and openly displaying their powers.

The efforts of the riot police to keep them apart were futile, and in truth, many of them seemed far more interested in keeping down the mutants than the humans. In any case, it wasn’t long before gunfire could be heard, gunfire that was answered almost immediately by a deafening thunderclap that knocked several of the Friends down, several no doubt with broken bones. Standing near the front of the ranks of the protesters was Kayla Connors, the sole survivor of the shelter.

“Magneto is RIGHT.” She immediately roared out and even though she had a tiny frame, her voice carried surprisingly well.

A lanky blond mutant next to her flicked a hidden switch on his wrist and fire emerged, living and sinuous. “See how they like burning for once.” And with a mere thought, a horrific flaming dragon streaked out towards the protestors. A grotesquely fat mutant near them lumbered towards a police barricade, scattering it with only the merest effort. Most of the Friends of Humanity protestors broke and started fleeing, but a few, with guns and combat experience began to fight back.

Near the Scene of the Mutant Riot:

“The scenes of violence in Mutant Town are unprecedented. I don’t think New York has seen violence like this on the streets since the New York Draft riots 150 years ago. Reports are indicating that dozens are injured so far, and millions of dollars of damage are being caused. Police have been trying to block off the area, but mutants and sympathizers of the Friends of Humanity continue to find their way into the melee. Unfortunately, with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers mediating a peace between the Kree and Shi’ar Empires, there are no superheroes able to …” Trish Tilby had to break and run as a car flew towards her, only to be stopped by a thin line of webbing and pulled back by a very, very familiar figure in blue-and-red.

“Lady, while I’d sure like the Avengers just now, this is New York. There’s never no superheroes. No get back before you get another car thrown at you.” Spider-Man said jauntily as he swung towards the scene of the chaos.

“... local superheroes are doing their best to assist in quelling the riots, but without a major team like the Fantastic Four or the Avengers, will they truly be able to help?” Trish continued, barely missing a beat, even as her and her team began to hustle further towards the back. As Spider-Man disappeared into fray, however, she noticed someone far less welcome coming down to meet her.

She started shaking and hoped to God she wouldn’t literally pee herself. Magneto. Forcing her hand to remain steady, she started approaching him, thinking, hoping that he’d come to talk to her. To get his message out. Not to kill her. If he wanted to do that, she’d already be dead. And if Magneto was behind this … “Do you have any comment on the violence that has broken out in the city?”

“I do.” Magneto replied, in a voice that was as commandingly sexy as it was completely terrifying to hear. “But not here, Ms. Tilby. You and your cameraman shall have your interview. And safe passage. You will come to no harm with me, I assure you.” And at least with that, the records had always emphasized that Magneto was not completely vicious. But what if he’d changed? “I shall return you to any location you like in the northeastern United States afterwards. Though I would recommend you not go back to New York City.” He smiled thinly. “It is going to get very dark at night.”

And with a singular, grand wave and a flash of light, Trish Tilby, her cameraman and Magneto disappeared in a flash of blinding light.

Streets of Mutant Town:

Jean Grey lived close enough to the carnage that there was a real risk of it spreading to where she lived by the university. She could defend herself, she knew, but she knew that many other people around her couldn’t. So many people out there were getting hurt or killed. And she had the power to help. She couldn’t sit back and forsake them. The news reports had indicated that Spider-Man had been seen around the scene of the crime, not far from her.

She’d gone into her closet, trying to find something that would conceal her identity, but nothing was … functional. Save for the Marvel Girl outfit. Of course I’d have to put on the fucking Marvel Girl outfit. Maybe she could find some matching tights or leggings at least. She did have some green leggings … and a few minutes later she looked and felt completely ridiculous. But what could she do? There weren’t enough heroes out there, and she had no idea if Scott’s new team of X-Men was even assembled. She couldn’t wait for them.

This is a one time thing. Just today.

She would find Spider-Man and help him protect people. She wouldn’t get into the main fighting. She would only fight if she needed to defend herself. She was strictly going to go save people. She continued to tell herself that as she floated out of the apartment she lived in and went towards the scene of the carnage.

She landed in the midst of a scuffle between several armed Friends of Humanity supporters and mutants that she was reasoning weren’t primary antagonists, from the way they were cowering. She reached out with her telekinesis towards their weapons and yanked hard, pulling them out. An unseen FoH militiaman fired towards her with a sharp crack, but his rifle blast bounced harmlessly off her telekinetic shield. She knocked back the thugs with a dismissive gesture, which allowed the mutants to flee. A few minutes later, she’d find herself doing the exact same thing, but in opposite.

It was a few minutes later, as she was mangling some shotguns into unusability that she saw a red and blue whir above her, webbing up a few more violent looking mutant protesters. Spider-Man stopped and swung towards her, and she swore she could sense a bit of a smile behind the mask.

“Oh man, you should’ve told me that the X-Men were getting back together. I’d be way less nervous. Where are the others?” Spider-Man asked. “You guys split up?”

Jean shook her head. “No team here. I’m solo today. Want some help, Spider-Man?” She managed a small smile. “One night appearance, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, let’s go. The main fighting’s a few blocks down. The Friends of Humanity people have been bringing up heavier weapons, and I think the mutants are … organized. Brotherhood of Mutants or something. Even though half of them are girls, I swear. But whatever, if they want to join a non-gender progressive organization of mutant terrorists …”

“Brotherhood?” Jean blurted out, her face setting. “That means Magneto.”

“... well, I’d say Magneto’s above my paygrade. But then I realized I don’t get paid. Tell you what, let’s do the best we can, anyway?” Spider-Man replied glibly.

“The best we have.” Jean couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“The best, the best, the best, the best of youuuuu!” Spider-Man cried out heroically as he swung off into the thickening fray, with Jean floating not far behind him.

Mutant Town, near the ruins of the Samaritan House Shelter:

In several places throughout town, the battle continued on ferociously but here at least, it had been won. The Brotherhood of Mutants, and several mutants who had come to their assistance in the melee stood triumphantly as one of its leaders, second in command only to Magneto himself came on at the scene, an arm around Kayla Connors, the sole survivor of the massacre here a few nights ago, and the other clutching an impressive-looking light machine gun.

“Three nights ago, armed fanatics came to this place to slaughter and murder homeless children in their beds and burn their graves around them. We will never forget their loss. But now we need to think past just getting our revenge. There is a great big fucking world out there and we demand our piece of it! Now! Stand with us, Brotherhood! This is Day One of the great Mutant Revolution!” Raven pointed her gun slightly away from the crowd and fired a round. “Kayla … honey, you wanted to say a few words.”

Kayla nodded, her eyes wet with tears, and covered in grime and at least a little blood (not hers, though) from the day’s fighting. “Good people died here. People who you all would be proud to have as friends or comrades. Some believed in peace, some new that it was an illusion. I … I thought that if I was a good girl, if I turned my cheek like they said in the book I was raised on, that people would stop hating. Then I was pushed out of my own family. For being different. Cast out like a devil.

And I ended up here, in a homeless shelter, no threat or danger to anyone. But they came to us, and they came with machine guns and flamethrowers and they killed my friends in their sleep and burned the shelter around us. It doesn’t fucking matter what you believe in anymore. They’re not interested in whether you’re a rebel or your a peacemaker. You’re a mutant. And that was enough for them to come and murder children. There was a thirteen year old girl there. A fifteen year old boy.

And I say, no more. No more of this. We have the power to fight, and win. We will not lie down, we will not surrender. Not one more fucking inch. You all know about how powerful Magneto is. But let me tell you. Magneto can’t win this revolution by himself. He needs you. And you. He needs us. Mutants. The people of the future.

I’m asking those of you here that aren’t members of the Brotherhood. Will you join him? Will you join Magneto in saying NO MORE. No more discrimination. No more massacres. No more registration. NO MORE. No more living according to the empty laws of flatscans! No more begging for scraps like dogs! NO MORE.” She finished speaking, wiping her eyes but staring into the crowd, which had become almost completely silent. They then began to chant and roar practically in unison.

The chanting was broken off, however, by a sizzling thundercrack and a colossal flash of crimson energy blasted up towards the skies. And there, facing a crowd of near-frenzied Brotherhood members and allies, was Scott Summers, dressed in a dark uniform, over which he wore a long trenchcoat. Raven scowled and cocked her gun towards Scott. “Go home, Cyclops. Unless you’ve come to join us.” She doubted it, though it would certainly gladden Magneto.

“Funny, I was going to ask you all the same. Go home. The police don’t have the resources to arrest most of you. Go home. We can deal with the consequences as a community. We can get over this. But only if you go home and end the violence.” Scott stood firm, even as the group began to fan out around him.

“Take him alive.” Raven snapped, and then turned towards Kayla. “Nice speech. Gonna make a hell of a YouTube video. Gotta go talk to the boss now.” She beeped her communicator and soon afterwards, teleported away in a flash of light.

Scott got into a battle stance. The first attack came from an energy projector like he suspected, but it was easy to go into a roll and dodge the energy blast. He riposted with a wide field blast that knocked most of the Brotherhood members near him to their feet. He had to respond quickly, though, because the girl who had been speaking projected a shockwave at him. Scott hit the dirt and blasted back at her, sending her flying some twenty feet, though he noticed immediately that she wasn’t out. Or hurt at all appreciably.

Of course. The new recruit would have to have good powers.

There was little time to consider a new course of action, though, because now he was surrounded on three sides by a group of at least three dozen other mutants. He couldn’t hit them all with a blast powerful enough to put any of them down, so he fired several smaller ones. Most of them were knocked down at least, though he realized with consternation that he recognized one that didn’t.

The Blob. Dammit.

It was the short girl who got up though, knocking him off his feet with a rolling shockwave across the ground. He got up again quickly enough, but wondered with some dismay just now powerful the girl was. He blasted her again, this time as hard as he could, which sent her hurtling into and through a heavy concrete building. Hopefully that would down her for some time.

“Hey, where’s all your X-Men buddies, Cyclops?” Blob sneered cruelly. “You really ought to give up. Magneto tells us to go soft on people who surrender. If they don’t though, heh heh.”

Scott suddenly got a strange smirk on his face just as dark clouds began to form on the horizon and a heavy rain began to fall on the battlefield. “Funny you’d ask, Blob.” It was then that a puff of flame and a whiff of brimstone erupted, before disappearing again just as fast. One of the Brotherhood people on the periphery immediately disappeared into the wall. Another group of stragglers was immediately hustled by a ball of growling rage. Attackers increasingly displayed confused behaviour, and two Brotherhood members started fighting each other. Striding up behind Cyclops came Piotr, who looked even bigger and stronger in the battlefield than he’d looked in simulations.

“The X-Men? They’re right here, Blob.” And now, Scott could only hope that the training sessions they’d undergone in the last few days would actually amount to something.

Chapter Text

The White House

The President watched the coverage with an extremely tight expression on his face. He knew that he’d be dealing with requests for the National Guard. And for what? To get slaughtered in the crossfire. He’d heard that more of the bizarre powered troopers had converged on the site, to say nothing of the mutants who were openly waving Magneto’s banner. The world had enough trouble with the man when he was a lone gun or surrounded by a few whackjobs, but this … this looked like an incipient social movement. It made him want to reach for his Maalox. Gyrich would be baying for blood. Cooper would be trying to rip his head off. Virtually everyone in DC was in panic mode, except for one person.

“So what do you make of the situation, Tessa?” The President asked.

Tessa Hartley, Special Advisor to the President on Mutant Affairs looked briefly towards the screen before facing the President. She was beautiful, virtually statuesque, with china-fair skin, raven-black hair and penetrating blue eyes. But he’d learned fast that she was cooler and more competent than anyone he’d ever met. If he could, he would’ve made her Secretary of State in a heartbeat. He was amazed that Sebastian had let her leave his company.

“Dire, Mr. President. You have a faction of heavily armed religious fanatics operating with no regard for law and order in a pitched battle in the streets of New York against a faction of mutants who appear to be in open rebellion against the United States. The reports suggest the fighting is still inconclusive, but I doubt that unless something happens soon, Magneto will appear personally and gain control of the situation.

In order to deal with Magneto with minimal casualties, Mr. President, you would need a superhero group on par with the Avengers. Unfortunately, both the Avengers and the Fantastic Four are indisposed. Which leaves us at a terrific disadvantage, I’m afraid. To make the situation worse, many members of your government and the opposition are sympathetic to the Purity Crusade and the Friends of Humanity. Moving against them will be politically costly. Public opinion, not to mention the security of the country’s most important city, requires that you act swiftly.”

The President shook his head in half-disbelief and took a swig of lukewarm coffee. “Well, Tessa, you’ve admirably stated how fucked we are. Got any solutions in that brilliant brain of yours?”

“Sentinels, sir.” Tessa replied coolly, without a moment’s hesitation. “They are the only power within your control that may be able to put an end to this. Shaw Industries can alter the programming so that Sentinels apprehend non-mutant disturbers of the peace as well. The VEM mounted on each man-sized Sentinel unit contains an EMP capable of disrupting their powered armour. The Mark II Sentinels are retrofitted with non-magnetic armor. Magneto was lucky in Ohio. Gyrich sent out outdated models.”

“So what you’re suggesting is that we order giant, heavy armed robots into the centre of New York City to do battle with crusaders in mechsuits and a small army of mutants. Sounds like a damn Warhammer 40K scenario.” The President shook his head. “Tell Shaw to ready them. If we can’t find a way to salvage the situation by the beginning of the next day, we’ll have no choice but to send them in. Get them ready to fly, but the order to launch comes from me, Tessa. Nobody else. Not Shaw, not Gyrich, not my Vice President, not Jesus Himself. Me. Do you hear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.” Tessa replied, her voice seamlessly professional as always.

Has the President agreed to your proposal, Tessa?

Conditionally, but yes. If the situation decays too much further, he can be chastised for not unleashing them fast enough.

Excellent. Do come back to New York soon. I’ve missed you, Tessa.

And I you, sir.

Tessa couldn’t smile in front of the President in the a moment of national crisis, but she allowed herself a moment of quiet, imperceptible triumph. Sebastian’s plans would come to fruition sooner than he had originally anticipated. And when the Hellfire Club’s new order reigned supreme, she would take her place at Sebastian’s side, as it was supposed to be. But first, they had the riffraff of the Purity Crusade to crush under heel, and a Brotherhood to subvert or knock aside. It would be interesting indeed to negotiate terms with Magneto.

Tessa was very aware, though, that Sebastian trusted no one else like he trusted her. And in return for her skills, she had literally anything she could possibly ask for, including the most precious gift of all. A life that wasn’t boring.

Mutant Town, near the Former Mutant Shelter:

“When are these guys gonna get it. Their fists and stuff go right through me!” Kitty gasped out in exasperation, as her fist connected with one of the Brotherhood follower’s jaws. “Though I swear there’s more of them now than when we started.”

Kurt let out a little laugh as he landed on an energy manipulator and began teleporting in rapid succession. After about five or six teleports, he felt his chosen quarry go limp and Kurt released him to fall to the ground. “I think they keep getting reinforcements from the outer areas. Piotr does not seem to be making as much progress with his, however.”

It was clear that Piotr could lift more than Blob could, that Piotr was faster and fitter and smarter. However, the slugging match between them had been remarkably uneventful. For all of Piotr’s huge strength, he seemed incapable of harming Fred, whose fists similarly seemed to practically bounce off the steel Russian’s hide. Kitty would’ve thought something would give eventually, but it didn’t seem to. Blob finally seemed to get the idea of simply knocking Piotr away when a small whirlwind wrapped over his face, sucking the air out of his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath, redding and then purpling before finally, blessedly, he passed out.

Remind me never to make Ororo angry, Kitty thought as she ducked into a wall to avoid an energy blast before coming back out again with a solid right hook. Overall, the X-Men seemed to be doing well. The Brotherhood were more numerous and some of them were tough as nails, but it was clear that hardly any of them had any training at all. Kitty may only have been an X-Man for about a week, but she’d been training with her powers since she was thirteen.

A flyer whooshed over the battlefield, unleashing a blast of crackling electricity, which forced Logan to jump out of the way. Kitty heard him shout something hoarsely at Piotr, and Pior nod. And then, she could not believe what she saw. Piotr hoisting Logan up and tossing him with one hand, like he were a baseball. High. And fast. An adamantium bullet aimed at the pesky flyer, who was going towards Ororo. It didn’t take anything but Logan to contact the Brotherhood flyer for his mass to knock him out. Logan himself hurtled to the ground, landing with a heavy grunt. But with unbreakable bones and a healing factor, any damage done would be gone in a minute or two.

Scott soon directly Piotr to take care of the annoying shockwave girl who seemed virtually impervious to most of their attacks so far. Kitty put aside the thought that she could probably identify with a lot of the younger woman’s rage- Kitty sure wanted to do things to the bastards who could gun down homeless kids, but the fact was, this wasn’t helping anyone. The damage had already been done. It was all the X-Men could do to prevent it from getting even worse.

Then there was the damndest flash of light and … no, it wasn’t Magneto coming down from the sky, but a younger man with dark hair, slightly reddish skin and intricate purple and black robes. He looked strangely regal, but when the entire battlefield began to turn into a chaotic swirl of missiles, she realized with a sinking feeling that Magneto had just sent in one of his big guns.

That’s real fair. Should at least be Magneto himself. Then we’d have a chance of ending this.

Then everything in her brain started screaming all at once, and it was all she could do to go into phase to avoid curling up into a ball. It still hurt, but she could … work through it in phase. Logan’s own mind was largely protected by the adamantium around his skull. But she realized in horror that just about everyone else was down. There was Betsy. But she was clearly struggling simply to remain conscious.

“Those who deny the truth that Magneto brings will be crushed underneath it. So it shall be done.” The imperious mutant pronounced, as if he were auditioning for The Ten Commandments.

“Elsewhere”

Trish Tilby shuffled slightly at the edge of her seat. She had no idea where she and Ken had been taken- it looked oddly sterile, as if it had been cut to precise margins out of a block of solid steel rather than built in anything like the ordinary way. Her … host had provided them both with clean clothes and of all things, a home-cooked Southern meal, served by a young woman who clearly had little more idea why they were there than they did.

The interview, Trish thought, the interview that could make my career. Or, realistically, the interview that could get her killed. She didn’t doubt that Magneto wanted a propaganda exercise. She’d talked to Ken about it and they’d agreed that they were not going to play along with him. They were going to do a real interview and the consequences of that would simply play out. She wondered if that would get FOX News to stop questioning her journalistic integrity.

She might as well have wondered whether it would spontaneously feed all the world’s orphans. Ever since she’d hosted that critical documentary on Bill O’Reilly, she was high on their hit list. She distracted herself for a moment by imagining O’Reilly trying to badger Magneto like he did everyone else. No doubt it would end with some large steel object stuck inside him, in a particularly unpleasant matter.

Her reverie was dispelled instantly by Magneto’s arrival. For once he wasn’t wearing his famous helmet, nor indeed, his usual crimson and purple outfit, but a dark suit with splashes of royal purple. His hair was silvered, yes, but the face that looked back at her couldn’t looked much older than forty- there were only a few subtle wrinkles around the eyes that seemed to do nothing but suggest maturity. To say that he was handsome was, unfortunately, an understatement. He looked like he belonged in some heroic tale or at least in some glorious production of Old Hollywood.

It was all capped off by blue-grey eyes that seemed to capture every bit of the emotional spectrum all at once. Subtle joy, blinding rage, arch amusement and creeping boredom. Which was to say that, yes, tragically, he had gorgeous eyes, but they also frightened Trish. Normal people didn’t have a gaze like that. She felt like she was being sized up by some sort of demigod.

Trish snapped herself out of the spell. She was a hardnosed reporter, not some gin-soaked celebrity chaser. Trish sat up as straight as she could and looked directly at Magneto.

“You may begin at any time.” Magneto said, in a voice that suggested Central Europe, but she wasn’t quite sure if it were German, Polish, Czech or something else.

“What should America call you? You’re known as Magneto, but files indicate your real name is Erik Magnus Lehnsherr.” Something simple to start the interview off.

Magneto actually smiled thinly at the question. “I’ve born a few names in my life, Ms. Tilby. Erik Lehnsherr was one of them. But to America, I am rightly known as Magneto. That is who I am. I think it right for mutants to choose names that actually describe them.”

Trish decided that the next question wouldn’t be a softball. She didn’t know how long she had. She wanted to get to the heart of the affair. “Do you claim responsibility for the events unfolding in New York right now?”

“I assisted some of the mutants in the community to organize for their own defence. I will ensure that they are able to do so successfully.” Magneto’s voice dropped slightly. “Would such a thing have happened without the catalyst? Surely not. The Friends of Humanity are holding a parade over the smouldering grave of children. They and their allies were the ones who came to a place of peace and sanctuary- a homeless shelter and murdered the mutants inside. Twenty-three, including a girl who was thirteen years old. And for this heinous massacre- one of the worst in US history, what has the response been? A few limp and empty promises.

America turned their backs on the residents of Mutant Town long before they turned their backs on America. They rejected them from the day they were born, for being different. They were feared and hated, chased from their homes, beaten, humiliated, forced to register with the government and threatened with fascistic repression. This situation is not one of my making, Ms. Tilby, but I intend to take an active hand in it.”

Tilby honestly couldn’t deny that some of his points were valid, though she firmly believed that he was dancing around the truth. There was clearly an organized element in the Mutant Town riots, and who else had that capacity but Magneto? “What is your endgame? What is this all for? You haven’t stated your goals to anyone yet.”

Magneto’s gaze met hers with uncomfortable intensity. “My goal is to free mutants from their oppressors, by whatever means is necessary. To give mutants a chance to form their own society, their own culture, free from humanity. As to what happens after that, well, it’s in the hands of evolution, isn’t it? I would accept a mutant and human society living side by side for the time being, but we will not beg. We will take what is ours by right.”

“Are you talking about the foundation of a mutant nation?” Trish asked, trying her best to meet his glare with hers.

“The mutant nation already exists, Ms. Tilby.” Magneto replied, explaining it as if she were a silly child. “What I suspect you’re really asking is if I am in favor of the formation of a mutant state. That would, I believe, be an inevitable result of mutant independence. As for what shape such a thing might take, that is between we mutants to decide.”

What Trish didn’t know, however, was that the interview was being broadcasted live, around the world, hijacking every television signal in existence. Literally billions were watching her speak with Magneto and millions of mutants could hear his message.

Genosha:

The Marshal watched the telecast of Magneto with the American reporter with disgust and dismay, but also deep concern. Since the signal had hijacked television signals, it was making it was way into every home in his country that had a television. And while the mutant labourers in the deep interior of the country, building dams and mining vibranium could not likely watch television, they would hear rumours. He’d already put the nation’s security forces on Orange alert. He’d additionally advised that the shipment of Sentinels received from Shaw Industries be put on alert.

“I know the situation looks grave, sir, but we’ll have it under control soon.” Gyrich said as he walked into the door, sitting down across from the Marshal. “We’ll have authorization to use the Sentinels by the morning. I would’ve sent them in immediately but, well, that’s what you get in our system.”

The Marshal let out a dry laugh and lit a cigar. “Yes. But you Americans have the luxury of your democracy and your unlimited money. It is different here in Genosha. America has many mutants, yes, but they are a tiny minority there. There are more mutants in Genosha than humans. And if we did not take them in hand, well … they would do that to us. What assurances can your government give us?”

Gyrich tried to ignore the irritation of the cigar smoke. “We’ve always been supportive of your government in the past, sir. We might make a noise every now and again to throw up a smoke screen, but trust me when I say that we understand who our real friends are. They most certainly are not mutants. The US government is committed to stability in the region and your government is one of the pillars of that stability.”

“Yes, and they said the same about Egypt.” The Marshal replied. “I suppose soon we shall see just how reliable your government’s promises are. But … let me say this. If you screw us over, you can forget about access to our vibranium deposits, yes? In any case, there may not be a Genosha to negotiate with.”

Gyrich nodded grimly. “The situation is pressing for all of us, sir. I believe the President realizes that.”

“Let us pray that he does.” The Marshal replied. “As it is, I will likely have to declare martial law. Real martial law, not the watered down version we’ve had for the last twenty years. Maybe make some examples of troublemakers.”

Mutant Town:

The battle against this new mutant follower of Magneto’s was not going well. Logan’s adamantium skull filtered out most of his telepathic power, but it didn’t protect him from being knocked around like a ragdoll by his telekinesis. As far as he could tell, Kitty was still active, but similarly helpless. If he’d been on the ground or close to it- they might’ve been able to work something out. But he was too far up. Betsy had fought long and hard against him too, but she’d finally collapsed and the blood dribbling from her nose was not a good sign at all.

“We need a damn plan, halfpint.” Logan growled as he took cover from another large object being hurled his way. Neither Kitty or he had the firepower or the means to reach the guy. It wouldn’t be long before one or both of them got unlucky and was hit by something.

“Halfpint? Wow, superheroes these days are really hard up for names.” Spider-Man declared with a faint smirk as he swung into action, aiming squarely for the psychic mutant’s centre of mass, but being deflected aside with a telekinetic swipe. Fortunately, Spider-Man managed to land on his feet.

It was then that he noticed that someone was hurling heavy objects at the Brotherhood psychic. Logan turned around to see who he could only assume was Scott’s girlfriend, Jean. The outfit she was wearing- from the old days when she was an X-Man too, was a bit silly, but Logan couldn’t help but for a half-second appreciate the body underneath all that. Lucky bastard, Boy Scout.

Far more importantly, though, it meant that they had someone with the potential firepower to actually deal with this guy. For his part, the Brotherhood psychic formed a brilliant field of energy around him, deflecting the objects Jean was hurling his way. He then gestured grandiloquently at her, with some sort of telepathic effect that made Jean real. Logan realized, grimly, that he overpowered her too. They needed something dramatic to happen.

In The Melee, Mutant Town:

Jean Grey was losing. She knew it. Her telekinesis had developed well over years of training, but telepathy had never come as easily for her. It was all she could do to keep conscious, to keep a shield up to block the attacks he sent at her. How can we beat this guy? If she could get the others awake, they might be able to overwhelm him together. But the others were out for the count, and as much as she wanted to run for Scott and take him out of there, she knew that the only way to protect him was to keep this man, whoever he was, from having his way with him. She felt the other psychic’s probe, peeling back her mind in an overwhelming attack. She tried her best to hold it back, but there was just too much, too much.

And then something seem to shift and she felt heat and life and strength surging into her like an avalanche, pushing the intruder out of her mind. Jean Grey took flight then and began to battle directly with the Brotherhood mutant. She raised her hand and brought it down as if it were a hammer blow and a brilliant rail of psychic flame hit him square in the chest.

I can beat him. I can make him pay for hurting my friends. Jean thought, as power surged through her and she knocked the Brotherhood psychic out of the sky. She then hovered over him, landing blow after blow, the purity and strength and fire inside her reaching out to burn his mind, making him scream. There was another flash of light and she realized with momentary dismay that he’d teleported away. And as soon as it had come over her, all the light and life and fire fled her and she saw only black.

Outside Mutant Town:

Assembled units of the National Guard started receiving last-minute orders- apparently the mutant riots had started to die down, with many of the anti-mutant rioters retreating to safer ground as well. There was just enough time to cancel the appearance of the Sentinels over the skies in Mutant Town and send in National Guard troops, along with a massive wave of FBI, NYPD and Homeland Security officers. Coming Mutant Town, however, many of the identified primary figures had seemingly vanished. Certainly, Magneto was nowhere in sight.

“Looks like we narrowly averted a crisis, sir.” Colonel Tompkins said with visible relief. “Wonder what made the mutants start to back off. They were winning, by all reports.”

“For now, Colonel.” General John Wraith replied. “The crisis was averted for today. Tactical withdrawal. Magneto’s strength is probably damn near intact, if not actually stronger than it was before all this began. Mutant Town is going to be radicalized. He’ll have a steady base of support.”

“I suppose so, sir. I wonder what the next step is.” Colonel Tompkins wondered aloud.

“Not our place to speculate, soldier.” General Wraith shook his head. “The good thing about that is that the shit isn’t going to fall on our heads. It’s going to fall on DC, even though the situation seems to have abated. But mark my words, Colonel, there will be a shitstorm for this. This situation is far from over, Colonel. I can’t blame the mutants for being pissed, but that doesn’t make them any less of a security risk to America.”

Brotherhood Base of Operations, Elsewhere:

“I do not doubt that many of you are wondering why I chose to make a retreat in the midst of what looked like our hour of victory.” Magneto looked out at the crowd with an intense gaze. “It is not because of the opposition we faced from a handful of misguided mutants who oppose us. Nor is it beacuse I do not believe that the Brotherhood could not have faced down whatever escalation the Government was going to bring.

It was in part, an act of mercy. To spare the innocent mutants in Mutant Town, those who are unable to fight as we do, the carnage of a government assault. It was also because we have achieved our goals for this battle. We have exposed the enemy. We have radicalized the people, and we have baptized the Brotherhood of Mutants in the line of fire.

Soon, we will be called back into the fray to fight for our people. For now, however, rest. You will find that these facilities have all that you require.”

Magneto knew that many in the group were not quite satisfied, but he was not worried for their loyalty. He had told them all that they could leave any time, which they knew meant that they would likely be released somewhere where human law enforcement could easily access them. Magneto could give the misguided some benefit of the doubt, but for those who turned their back on the struggle?

He noticed Mystique’s daughter, Rogue, wasn’t leaving with the rest of the crowd. He raised his eyebrow slightly towards her. “You wanted to speak to me about something?”

“... yeah.” Rogue replied, looking him straight in the eye. The girl was virtually fearless, he had to give her credit for that. “... it was just a chance to make a statement, wasn’t it? Now the world knows that you’re coming for them. And now life is going to get even harder for people in Mutant Town.”

“For now, yes. But soon they will be freed, and permanently. This was only the most minute of setbacks. The fundamentals of the plan remain in operation.” Magneto replied smoothly. “And it is within the power of the humans to be merciful and just.”

“But you know they won’t. The violence isn’t gonna end. And that’s fine for those of us that can fight. I got nothin’ to fear from nobody. But what about some poor kid whose mutant power is changing the colour of their hair?” Rogue’s gaze didn’t waver from his. “What the hell are they gonna do when the Purifiers or the police come knockin’ for them because they threw a tomato at some thugs?”

“Careful, Rogue.” Magneto cautioned, his voice lowering. “I enjoy your candid nature. It is a breath of fresh air. But do be careful.” His expression then faded into a faint smile. “Trust me, Rogue. I cannot claim that this is an easy road, but I promise you, together we will write a glorious chapter in the history of our people. I do admit, though, to one mistake.”

“What’s that?” Rogue raised her eyebrow. It wasn’t like Magneto to admit that he was wrong to anyone.

“I should have allowed you to take the field. Your mother wants to protect you- like all mothers. But you should be able to determine your own destiny. And for that slight, you have my apologies, Rogue.” Magneto’s gaze focused on her for a moment before he turned on his heel and began to leave.

Rogue sighed harshly as he went out of view. It just didn’t seem … it seemed right to go beat up Puifiers or whoever, but to start a riot like that and then leave it so suddenly? She shook her head. Nothing you can do about it. She also knew she’d have to have a chat with Momma about trying to protect her. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was strong, and tough and she could fly. And anyone who tried to touch her? They’d damn well regret it.

She sure wished she had something she could hit now. Maybe someone was wanting to train. She’d show them, soon enough.

Headquarters, Purity International, Chicago:

“A disgrace! A hideous disgrace!” William Stryker practically roared as he flung aside the papers. “Now the whole movement’s in danger. People are going to be watching us. A month from now, it wouldn’t matter, but now? This is the worst possible time. Our strength in New York is seriously depleted, right when we needed it the most.”

Graydon Creed looked at the files that Stryker had tossed aside in disdain. “... it’s certainly not the most welcome news. But I believe it’s within our ability to salvage. The fact that the mutants were winning the conflict makes it likely that the media will focus on them. Nevermind Magneto’s broadcasting stunt. We’ll have to play it quietly for a time, Reverend, but this shouldn’t disrupt the timetables too badly. Our politicians will be calling for newer and tougher Registration laws.”

“Registration laws.” Stryker replied, shaking his head. “We know damn well that even if they can pass it, it’ll be watered down. We have a President who hires mutants as personal advisers. I know he knows that that Tessa harlot is a mutant.” He sighed. “Tell your politicians to advance their bills. We need to figure out a means of taking this out of the government’s hands and into our hands. How much longer can we rely on Shaw Industries to do our work for us? We’ve waited too long for them.”

Donald Pierce sighed harshly. “Shaw Industries has done an admirable job creating the weapons we need to destroy the mutant menace now and forever. As much as I despise Sebastian, I must admit his efficiency.” Metallic fingers drummed the desk.

“Only one of us has been silent so far.” Stryker pointed out, looking out towards the back of the table. “What do you make of this situation, Bastion?”

“Marching the Friends of Humanity through the streets of New York only a few days after a massacre was stupid. The timing of the attack on the shelter was poor. All it did in the end was rile up Mutant Town. They know we’re out there and as much as they can, they’ll be prepared for us. I’m more interested in the reports of … another mutant faction. One that does not support Magneto.” Bastion’s voice was low and sonorous, carrying effortlessly across the room. “But we cannot undo what has already happened. We must move forward. The politicians will play their part, as will the Friends and the Purifiers. So will Sebastian’s Sentinels. Donald. Show the Reverend and Mr. Creed your prototypes.”

Donald Pierce took files and pushed them forward. “I like to call them Omega Sentinels. Sentinel technology implanted directly into human beings. All the advantages of robotics alongside the advantage of human operators.”

Stryker examined the files with a bit of a frown. “Who would we recruit for these? We … I won’t have anyone forced into one. It isn’t right. The human form is not to be altered lightly.” He cast a look at Pierce. “With no offense meant to you, Donald. The Lord needed you alive, despite your accident.”

Pierce clearly wasn’t entirely mollified by the comment, but it was Creed who spoke up. “I doubt we’ll have much hesitation in finding a few hundred volunteers, Reverend. We may have been embarrassed by this whole incident in New York, but we are far from finished. A lot of our people will be itching for payback.”

Bastion coughed slightly and everyone turned their attention towards the tall, thin man in the impeccably cut dark suit. Baleful eyes stared at them. “It is settled, then, gentlemen. We press forward. Together. No more stupid mistakes. We move with one vision, one purpose. No peace but through victory.”

The other men assembled had nothing to say to counter it and their assent was soon made plain.

Hellfire Club Headquarters, New York City:

“It’s … mildly disappointing that the President never got to see the Sentinels in action, but I suppose we should all be grateful that the crisis was averted so … fortuitously.” Sebastian smiled faintly as a servant poured wine for Tessa and him. He then waved the servant out of the room.

“All parties appear to have lost their nerve. And the appearance of a new team of X-Men is certainly a notable complication. All indications were that Charles Xavier had permanently abandoned the notion.” Tessa sipped the wine thoughtfully, relaxing against Sebastian. “What will the Hellfire Club’s next move be?”

Sebastian smirked. “The same as it always is, play both sides until they are precisely where we want them. I’ve already seen fit to open up channels of communication to the Brotherhood of Mutants, and Emma will be speaking to Charles soon. Emphasizing, of course, that he has certainly obligations to us. We did pay for a great portion of the costs of his mutant schools, after all. We know things that he would prefer the world not know.” He distracted himself from his explication by bending down slightly to kiss and nip at her flawless, snow-white throat. Tessa let out a nearly inaudible exhalation and tilted her neck back to give him better access.

“You seem so confidant that Magneto will bargain with you.” Tessa replied with a tone that belied that she was rather enjoying what he was doing. She knew it would not be long before serious discussion was completely impossible. “What if he dismisses you out of hand?” It seemed quite within the realm of possibility. “We should plan for all possibilities. He may decide to number the Hellfire Club amongst his enemies.”

“He’d be a fool to do that, Tessa.” Sebastian growled almost playfully, pushing down down onto the couch and kissing her, hungrily, passionately, hard, just the way she liked it. Not caring if some passing servant saw them, she arched herself against him.

“A fool, yes. We shall discuss this later?” Even Tessa’s legendary reserve was tested. The dress that had felt so perfect on her only an hour before now seemed like an impediment. Her hands went to unbuttoning his shirt. “If I am not mistaken, you have other priorities.”

“Always so damned proper, Tessa.” Sebastian laughed, before kissing her again, not parting until she was practically breathless. She curled her legs around his waist, bringing him closer.

“Would you rather I be improper, sir?” Tessa asked, almost impishly, kissing and nipping at his throat as heatedly as he’d been doing to her just a moment before. “If so, then I kindly request that you drop the games and just fuck me. It’s been ages.”

“And what sort of gentleman would I be if I denied my lady what she wants?” Sebastian asked rhetorically as he began to slip her dress off of her.

Bistro Provencal, New York:

“I thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Charles. You look well as ever.” Emma’s smile as as masterfully painted on as whatever makeup she wore. Neither telepath could easily access the other’s thoughts. Each party would have to rely on what they could glean, either directly or from subtle cues from the other.

“And you are radiant as ever, Emma.” Charles replied with a thin smile of his own. “Surely you could have simply called at the Institute, however.”

“Please. How dreadfully gauche.” Emma countered knowingly. “In any case, however, we have some important matters to discuss. The whole sordid business in Mutant Town, and how we move on from that.”

“Let us be honest with each other, Emma.” Charles said pointedly. “You want to talk about the X-Men.”

“So blinding direct, Charles.” Emma smirked faintly. “But yes, I was rather surprised to see a mutant team in your livery battling Magneto’s Brotherhood. Though they seem to be distinctly rough around the edges.”

“Difficult times call for difficult measures. When I heard that Magneto had been released, I did what I needed to do. It didn’t help that I’d heard ominous rumours of the Sentinel program starting up again.” Charles’s eyebrow raised slightly. “You can understand how those two things might create a tense atmosphere.”

“The Sentinel program, such as it is, is under far safer hands than it was in the past. No one in the government is really interested in a war against mutants. The President would do anything to avoid one. So dreadful for hopes of reelection.” Emma’s voice lowered slightly. “Not that we’re ungrateful for the timely intervention of the X-Men, but I trust that they will not interfere with our shared goals? I believe that it is good for both of us to maintain our common interests.”

“I assure you, Emma, our shared interests will remain inviolate.” Charles replied diplomatically. “It’s fortunate that we’re able to have such a civilized conversation about all this. We should do it more often. And when the Massachusetts Academy is up and operating, we’ll have to establish a more formal relationship between our schools.” He smiled faintly. “As for the X-Men, they will continue to do what they must to preserve this fragile peace we find ourselves in.”

“Of course, Charles. And the Hellfire Club, as ever, will do as it must to protect its vital interests. One of those vital interests, of course, is you. We place great importance on whom we do deals with.” Emma smiled thinly.

“The bargain we struck is important, I agree.” But not so important as the dream.

Chapter Text

Jean Grey’s Apartment, Mutant Town:

“We all probably owe you our lives, you know.” Scott said with a small smile, which faded into a more thoughtful expression. “It was good. Having you by our side out there. Thank you.”

Jean sucked in a breath. She knew that Scott was being completely sincere in his sentiment, but she also knew that she’d raised his hopes. He’d say he didn’t expect her to join the X-Men. At this point, he probably believed it too. But she had a sinking feeling that eventually it would become a problem.

It did feel good though, using her power. And when that tidal wave of psychic fire came over her, she’d felt so alive, like she was a force of nature itself. All of her insecurities, fears and grudges had washed over and she’d become something else. Or was it something else? That’s what Charles would have me think. Maybe I am life and fire and will, deep down.

She offered a tiny smile to him. “What was I going to do, Scott? Sit back and let Magneto take over the city?”

“Jean!” Scott exclaimed, clearly not understanding that she was teasing him.

“Scott.” Jean leaned over and kissed him, and then brushed her hand against his cheek. “You need to learn when I’m just teasing you.” Her expression changed. “Part of me liked being out there, using my powers, helping others.” Overpowering my enemies. Feeling like I was immortal. “But there’s so much else I want to do. I’m not a soldier, I’m not a warrior.”

Scott nodded. “I understand.” He doesn’t. He’s just a soldier. Just a man. Only human. 

The thought shocked, disturbed her and she tried to get it out of her mind entirely. It was unworthy of either of them. Thankfully, she didn’t project the thought to him, though it was clear that he knew something was bothering her.

“Jean?” Scott asked gently, reaching for her hand.

“I’m sorry.” Jean replied with a slightly tremulous smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m just a little shaken up over the whole thing. It’s going to be tough for people around here.”

Scott nodded. “There’s a lot of police around. The whole situation ended without a proper resolution, so everyone’s waiting for round two.”

“... I imagine you’re preparing for it?” Jean looked at him intently. “With your team?”

Scott nodded. “Extensively. We’re … pretty rusty.” He looked at her for a moment. “Are you absolutely sure there’s no way I can get you to join us? We could really use you.”

“Scott …” Jean’s eyebrow raised and her lips drew a little tighter. He’ll only keep you down. You weren’t meant for this. You were meant to fly, Jean Grey.

We were meant to fly.

The Danger Room:

Logan liked the Danger Room. The sterile hard light holograms fooled his senses- he couldn’t smell them at all. It kept him on his toes. He also liked that he didn’t have to worry about holding back all the time. If Logan killed a holographic enemy, the boy scout might complain, but nobody was going to give him real trouble over it. There were no widows, no orphans. The holograms didn’t shit themselves and cry for their muttis like the German boy soldiers did in `45. And the holograms couldn’t kill his friends either, not for real. He didn’t have to hold any dying doughboys or tommies as they bled out over him, he didn’t have to put them out of their misery with a knife.

Holographic enemies were clean, no matter how much blood flew. It let him be a killer, without actually killing. A bit like heroin without the withdrawal symptoms. A man could get addicted to a place like this.

His enemies this time, however, weren’t even human- they were Sentinel robots. The boy scout and some of the other X-Men seemed pretty convinced that they would have to be fighting Sentinels sooner or later, and since Magneto had run into a few of them in Ohio, it seemed likely enough.

The Sentinels were tough opponents, even if their AI was a bit clumsy. They had huge amounts of firepower and the advantage of flight. Even with his unbreakable bones and healing factor, they could put a lot of hurt on him in a short time. Logan didn’t have the boy scout’s powerful ranged weapon or Kitty’s ability to disrupt their circuitry by phasing. He wasn’t as strong as the tin Russian and he sure as hell couldn’t alter the environment of a battlefield like Ororo could.

They could sense his location by heat signature and genetic code, though both were muffled if he found a way to lose himself. The steam was scalding his flesh and he was half-blind from it, but it didn’t matter. The damage would heal in seconds. And it blinded the Sentinel’s ability to scan by heat signature. So right now, the Sentinel pursuing him was only vaguely aware of his presence.

You’re the last one. You think you’re the hunter, but then again, this is me we’re talking about. Logan climbed up swiftly over the Sentinel, and when he was right in range, he dove down upon the metallic robot. It couldn’t turn and use its weapon quite quickly enough, though it tried to swat him away. Strong as the robot was, his adamantium claws made a mockery of its steely armour. He felt a sudden pain and he knew it was trying to burn him up with a heat ray. But it wasn’t fast enough. By the time it’d do any serious damage to him, he’d already cut its guts out.

Just as his claws pierced the Sentinel’s skull and finally destroyed the last one, the program faded away and was replaced by the cold, sterile interior of the Danger Room. It was then that he caught a smell and turned around. Braddock. She’d smell better without that fancy perfume. He turned around with a faint smirk. “Can I help you, darlin’?”

“Yes, you can.” Betsy replied, her gaze meeting his squarely. “I was watching your training in the Danger Room.”

“You like what you saw?” Logan chuckled faintly, rummaging about for a cigar and then looked at her with a much more serious impression. “What’re you wanting? You don’t look like you’re after a fun Friday night.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Betsy smirked. “But as it happens, I do want something from you, Logan.”

“Spit it out.” Logan found his cigar, lighting it up. The way the smoke mingled with her scent was nice, long as he couldn’t focus on the perfume. Logan hated perfume. She was more subtle about it than most women, but it still annoyed him. He liked their scent, not one that some chemist in Paris thought up.

“I want to learn to fight like you do.” Betsy replied.

“Lotsa people can teach you how to fight. Ask the Boy Scout.” Logan took a puff of his cigar. “I’m not a nice teacher.”

“I’m not looking for bloody nice. I hate nice. I want to learn to hurt people, not to hem a fucking evening dress.” Betsy’s gaze focused intently on his.

Logan could tell that there was a lot of resentment and anger in her. The angrier she got, the more he could smell her. It was tempting to just be an asshole to her, just so he could forget about that goddamned perfume. But he had the distinct impression that she was being serious. He decided that he’d take her seriously. “Show up here tomorrow at six in the morning. You give me three hours of your time. After that, your decision. And … I don’t play nice. Not if you’re going to learn to fight for real.” He grinned, showing sharp canines.

“I’ll be there.” Betsy replied crisply.

Xavier Institute Art Studio:

Piotr was not a religious man. He wouldn’t have called himself an atheist, though he didn’t believe in God as he was portrayed by the Orthodox priests back home, or for that matter the Baptist pastors or Jewish rabbis he’d encountered in the city. He doubted that there was some omnipotent individual beyond the skies, directing the lives and fates of humanity. And the Christ story had always struck him as smacking of a fairytale, a legend that was valuable not for its actual truth but for the moral and ethical teaching within.

But when he was like this, putting paint to brush, he did feel something. He could not put it in words, he’d never been good at that, either in Russian or English. But he could, sometimes, get it through via paints and pencils on paper or canvas. The essence of beauty and life. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he could capture something of the essential truth of his subject. It was something that he felt incredibly thankful for, the ability to capture the inner beauty of the people whom he painted.

Sometimes it was difficult, his subjects often making it difficult to tease out their true natures. He remembered once he’d made the mistake of trying to get Logan to sit still for a sketch. To say that it was unsuccessful was an understatement. He’d found himself having to buy the surly Canadian a few beers in order to mollify him.

And then sometimes it was almost ridiculously easy. This was one of those times. His pencils seemed to guide themselves across the paper. It often felt that way when he was doing his best work, as if something deeper than his conscious mind was directing him. Piotr couldn’t help but smile, attracting a slightly shy smile in response from his subject.

“I’m almost done.” Piotr smiled faintly. “Thank you for posing for me.”

“It’s no problem.” Kitty replied, blushing slightly. “I mean, it’s art, right? Art is good.”

“Art is good, yes.” Piotr could feel himself blush slightly, and he tried to focus himself at the task at hand. He had a job to do, a sketch to finish, beauty to capture in time. It wouldn’t do for him to break the spell and realize that she was only ten feet away from him. With only a few sheets wrapped around her.

He got back to his task, continuing to work, more and more quickly now, the force that sometimes moved him nearly completely taking over. It was only about five minutes later that he found himself with a completed sketch at hand.

“... would you like to see it?” Piotr asked. “I think it’s a reasonable likeness.”

He’d expected that she might have asked him to go for a moment or gone off to change back into her ordinary clothes, but instead, she simply gathered the sheets around herself a little tighter and padded behind him. She wasn’t phasing, he was sure of it, but she still seemed to practically glide across the floor. He knew she’d been in dance once- and he knew that dancers often had muscle memories of how to move with fluid grace that lasted long after they stopped. She leaned over him and examined the picture, long brown hair spilling down over her back and brushing against him. He felt his heart begin to beat faster.

“... wow.” Kitty breathed. “... it’s incredible. It’s …” She let out a half-giggle, almost nervous. “It’s incredible, but there’s, there’s no way that I’m that pretty.”

Piotr turned over to look at her. “You are. I … I only hope that I have captured some of that.” There were other things he wanted to say, but he could feel his mouth begin to go dry.

“... thank you.” Kitty blushed deeply and looked at the picture a moment longer. “For being sweet. But also for this.” Her blush deepened. “I should go … put some clothes on. I’ll be back. Soon.”

“... okay.” Piotr replied, turning for a moment as she padded off and then looking back at the ground. It would not do to leer at her. She’d agreed to be his subject for a picture, no more. But he found himself looking at the door she’d disappeared behind. And his heart was still beating faster than it should, and his mouth was still dry.

A few minutes later, she reappeared and even though the filmy silk sheets were replaced by a band T-shirt and jeans, she was still astoundingly beautiful. She smiled at him, more broadly and confidently now and walked over to him.

“Thank you again, Piotr.” Kitty leaned down and kissed his cheek before taking up a seat next to his and looking at the picture. “Are you going to turn it into a painting?”

Piotr was certain that he’d turned as scarlet as Kurt was blue. “If … if I were to make it a painting, I might need you to pose again. If that would be all right.”

“Any time, Piotr.” Kitty replied almost instantly. And then there was a silence.

“Katya …” Piotr started, trying to put things into words. “I feel like I should … I would love to paint you again, but you should know … I may not be … objective about it?” That wasn’t really what he was trying to say.

Kitty turned towards him, and her hand brushed against his face. “You say that like I’d have a problem with that. You don’t have to be … objective with me.”

Her words hung in the air for a second or two before Piotr made the next move, leaning downwards slightly and brushing his lips against hers. Kitty responded immediately and their kiss quickly became more and more passionate until they both finally parted, half-breathless. When he opened his eyes, he could see her beaming up at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“... I’ve wanted to do that for awhile.” Kitty finally said, kissing him again.

“Me too.” Piotr replied. “So … do you want to go somewhere? For dinner?”

“Dinner is good.” Kitty laughed. “Not Harry’s, though. We’ll run into Logan for sure.”

“There is an Italian place in town. We could walk, it is a nice night.” Piotr offered helpfully.

“I’d be delighted, Piotr Rasputin.” Kitty grinned and impulsively kissed him again.

Sentinel Production Facility, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania:

The President stared out from the viewing platform at the recently-finished Sentinels, the roughly man-sized models that were intended for ordinary use and the far more powerful Type III Sentinels, which stood some ten stories tall. He frowned slightly. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some sort of sleeping malevolence in the robots, even if he knew that was ridiculous.

Sebastian Shaw on the other hand looked positively ebullient. “Mr. President, it is my great honor to show you the next generation in superhuman law enforcement and security.” His handshake was almost crushingly firm, the sort of handshake that people gave when they wanted to intimidate people under a friendly guise.

The President could smell Shaw’s bullshit from a mile away, but unfortunately, he knew he’d have to deal with it. Shaw Industries had been one of his biggest political donors and Sebastian had a colossal web of connections in Washington and, indeed, globally. So he found himself having to smile and act nice with the man.

Shaw put on that masterful sort of false smile that probably fooled many others, but made the President want to punch him in the face, though he also suspected that, tragically, the industrialist didn’t have a glass jaw. The President was an old soldier, he’d learned to identify hard men from soft ones immediately. And for all of Shaw’s hucksterism, the President knew he was a hard man, a dangerous man who had to be dealt with carefully.

“Tessa, why don’t you explain some of the technical features of the new Sentinel models for the President.” Shaw grinned. The President managed to keep his game face impassive, but the implication was clear and disturbing as all hell. Tessa’s his, not mine. Damn.

“Both the Type I and Type II Sentinels are constructed entirely out of plasteel, which is completely magnetically non-reactive. They are also resistant to electromagnetic pulses. Both types of Sentinels can be controlled by a human operator or operate under autonomous AI.” Tessa spoke crisply. “They are equipped with a variety of non-lethal and lethal weaponry, adaptable to any situation. All Sentinels can detect the presence of the X-Factor gene within one mile of its current position, with Type II Sentinels having an effective range of ten miles. Both models are capable of flight, with Type I Sentinels having four hours flight time with its fuel supplies and Type II Sentinels having twelve hours. Maximum flight speed is Mach 3.”

It all sounded very impressive, the President had to admit. He let her finish and then looked back at the Sentinels for a moment. “They’re all going to have human operators.”

“Of course, they’re designed to be capable of it, though a human operator would require training in the use of the Sentinels. That would delay the implementation of Operation Wideawake by several months at least.” Tessa replied.

“Weapons shouldn’t be able to pull their own damn triggers.” The President levelled his gaze directly at Sebastian. He might be forced to have a grudging respect for the man, but he wasn't going to piss himself around Shaw either. “If we have some sort of monumental emergency, like if Magneto shows his face in an American city again, then I’ll authorize launch as needed. But Operation Wideawake will not proceed until human operators have been fully trained.”

“Of course, Mr. President.” Sebastian replied smoothly. “We’ve been running some prototype tests, so we can offer your forces assistance with that training.”

“I’m sure the boys at Operation Wideawake would be happy to hear that.” The President replied, looking again at the Sentinels. Are we doing the right thing?

Brotherhood Base of Operations

“You called, Magnosexy?” Raven smirked as she stalked into the room. “Business or pleasure?”

“Business.” Magneto replied, turning around to face her. “I’ve told you not to call me that. It sends a terrible impression to the others.”

“What, that you’re a person? A sexy one?” Raven raised her eyebrow and smirked. “I think people know who’s boss, don’t worry. And you need someone who’ll treat you like a person. Because most of the others look at you like some kind of demigod.”

Magneto didn’t reply one way or the other, but remained silent for a moment. “I’ve been contemplating our next move. I’m beginning to feel my … merciful actions in New York were in error. No doubt my enemies believe I simply lost my nerve.”

Didn’t you, Magneto? Why else didn't you descend from the heavens and bring justice, like fire?  New York hadn't been a failure, really. If anyone had walked away stronger from the confrontation, it had been Magneto himself. Then, why, why did he feel like it was such a failure? 

Raven shrugged. “We snagged three dozen new mutants for the Brotherhood and you got to air your views to the entire planet. The revolution wasn’t going to be won in a night, handsome.”

Magneto frowned. “You will take a handpicked team of Brotherhood operatives to Washington DC. We’re going to seize the President. I wish to speak with him, personally.”

Raven whistled. “... hell of a job there. You looking for a stealth operation or to make a statement? Because if you were looking for stealth, it’d be better if I went alone. The new recruits are useful, but they’re not trained operatives.”

“They will make a statement. You will take advantage of the chaos to capture the President.” Magneto clarified. “I fully expect that Xavier’s new team will try to intervene, so I want the Brotherhood to be fully trained and ready for battle.”

“You say that like I haven’t been training them, honeybunch.” Raven replied, though her tone was less flippant than her words. “They’ll be ready for your grand statement, don’t worry.”

Magneto nodded. “Of course, I have no doubt that they will do what they must. And when that day of triumph comes, you will have the joy of knowing you played a great part in it.”

“You don’t need to be so portentious when it’s just us, you know.” Raven crossed the distance between them and put her arms around his neck. “Our grand plans can wait until tomorrow, yes?”

Magneto smiled thinly. “Yes, we’ll begin planning the attack on Washington. Tomorrow.” His arms wrapped around her, bringing her close. “I don’t suppose it’s too late to turn business into pleasure?”

“Never too late.” Raven replied with a smirk before kissing him deeply.

Elsewhere in the Brotherhood Base:

Rogue had taken to flying around the Brotherhood base, getting a bird’s eye view of things. As she’d become more and more practiced with her powers, flying was beginning to feel as natural to her as walking did. It was so easy to just forget all her earthbound cares and soar. In the skies, flying at supersonic speeds, she felt so indestructible, so free. She could soar up high, high into the skies, as high as jets, though she couldn’t hold herself there for long, as there wasn’t enough oxygen high up in the skies. She wondered about getting an oxygen mask or something similar so she could fly further. She wondered if she could make it into space with the right kind of suit.

Going down closer to the ground, she could make out a singular form sitting by the seaside. Rogue vaguely recognized her as the new girl, the one who’d been pulled out of the wreckage of the mutant shelter. She flew down to the ground, landing next to the other girl.

“Hey there, how’re you doing?” Rogue asked, sitting down next to her.

“I’m fine.” Kayla replied tersely, in that tone that clearly indicated that she wasn’t.

Rogue looked over at her. “I’m sorry … about the shelter and everything.”

“Me too.” Kayla closed her eyes for a moment. “I should’ve fought back. Why was I the only one? I wasn’t better than any of them.” Small, delicate-looking hands balled up into tight fists. “And why aren’t we finding them right now?” She glared at the ground and then out into the sea. “We should be taking the fight to them.”

Rogue took a breath. “... wouldn’t mind finding some of them myself. But Magneto’s got a bigger plan for us. He hasn’t forgotten them, I promise you.” Rogue realized that she was trying to assure herself as much as the other girl. Momma trusts him. I should trust him too.

“Of course he hasn’t.” Kayla replied, firmly. “Magneto … he cares about us. As a people. He’ll lead us into a new age. Where we can rely on each other.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself too. “You’re … Mystique’s daughter?”

“Yeah.” Rogue replied. It was all a bit complicated of course, but it wasn’t the time to discuss those things. She’d had a Mother and a Momma all her life, and it was Irene and Raven, even if she’d been born to other parents.

“You’re lucky.” Kayla sighed. “My parents wish I’d never been born.”

Rogue didn’t have a whole lot to say to that. She wondered, vaguely, what her birth parents would have thought about her. But it didn’t matter. Her Mother and Momma loved her. She looked out over the sea thoughtfully. “You don’t get to choose the family you’re born into. But you can choose the friends you make. I can’t .. I can’t imagine some of the things you’ve been through. But I hope you can find some purpose and some peace being here. We’re supposed to be some Brotherhood or somethin’ after all, right?”

“... Brotherhood.” Kayla replied with the faintest of smirks. “Kinda sexist, isn’t it? I mean, we’re not not exactly brothers.”

“Guess we’re not.” Rogue replied with a smile. “Should probably be a Sisterhood of Mutants or something too.”

“Sisterhood of Mutants.” Kayla considered the phrase for a moment. “I like that.” She took a breath. “Thanks. For … flying over here. It’s good to know there’s people here I can talk to, and stuff.”

“... me too. Been used to bein’ around Mother and Momma and now Magneto and the other guys. I never knew many girls my own age.” Rogue shook her head and smiled. “We should go cause some trouble or something. Like friends do.”

Kayla actually grinned. “Totally.”

The Massachusetts Academy:

Emma Frost strode into her school with a special sense of accomplishment. Finally, at long last, the Massachusetts Academy would be open for students to arrive. Already, a significant number of mutants had been located by the Hellfire Club and granted scholarships to study there. More would sign up as the school started operations. And of course, those students would be given not only the chance of their lives academically, they would be candidates for membership in the Hellfire Club’s future ranks, assuring their prominence in society.

Of course, the Massachusetts Academy wasn’t just a project of the Hellfire Club as a corporative entity, it was her project personally, one that she hoped would form the basis of a claim to power in the future. After all, as the headmistress of the Academy, the students would naturally look to her for guidance, not to Sebastian, and even less so to Selene, the bizarre witch whom Emma fervently wanted removed from the internal affairs of the Hellfire Club.

Charles Xavier is a slave to his foolish dream. And I, Emma Grace Frost, answer only to my own ambition. She smiled faintly, satisfied as she went over the roll of students at the Academy. They represented all sorts of genetic mutations, all manner of backgrounds. In short order of course, they would all become eager followers of the Hellfire Club. And with all of them flocking to her banner, she would have the strength to take the leadership of the Club from Sebastian.

“Hello Emma, or should I say Headmistress Frost?” A familiar voice spoke from the back of the room.

Emma turned around and faced Warren. “Oh, I do like it when you refer to me as Headmistress. You should continue doing that, I think.” She smirked faintly. “I’m surprised your vulgar girlfriend let you out of New York’s nightclubs long enough to come see me.”

Warren frowned slightly. “Betsy’s … not been speaking to me lately. She’s cast her die with Xavier, I think.”

“Oh, you poor thing. You must be so terribly lonely. Tell me, what telepathic socialite will you find next?” Emma smirked faintly.

“I only know one other one, actually.” Warren replied with a faint smirk.

“Hm. Cheeky boy.” Emma smiled faintly. “I can count on your support when the Hellfire Club meets next, yes?”

Warren nodded. “Of course you can. Sebastian is … going too far with his Sentinel project. And I don’t think any sane person could trust Selene.”

Emma nodded. “Smart boy, Warren.” She got up from her chair and walked over to him. “You know, we could make quite a stir in society, seen together. Emma Frost of Frost Media and Warren Worthington III of Worthington Financial?” She smirked up at him. “What do you think, Warren? Time for the ultimate mutant power couple?”

Warren’s eyes widened a little that. “Are you seriously proposing that we …”

“Start dating? Absolutely. It will send a message. And I assure you, I can make it very, very much worth your while.” Emma strode closer yet to him. “I think you’ll find it will be a very advantageous alliance for both of us.”

“... an advantageous alliance. I like the sound of that.” Warren smiled and crossed the remaining distance between them. “So I suppose we should seal the deal?”

“Yes …” Emma smirked at him, and then leaned in so she was just an inch or two from him. No doubt the boy expected her to kiss him. Poor fool, Warren. “Soon. We have to manage this properly.” She gently pushed him back slightly. “The public needs to know that you’re not cheating on poor Ms. Braddock. It needs to be clean, Warren. You can see to that, I presume?”

Warren nodded. “... yes, I can. I can handle that.”

“Good.” Emma leaned in to kiss his cheek, her hand brushing against his arm. “I look forward to our imminent alliance.” She used her powers to send a subtle shiver of pleasure through his body. She wanted him eager as a dog, willing to do whatever she asked.

And of course, he would be. Men were so predictable.

Brotherhood Base of Operations: 

"You called, Lord Magneto?" Exodus bowed grandiloquently before Magneto, remaining bowed until Magneto gestured that he could stand back up.

"I did, Exodus." Magneto replied. "Come, walk with me." Lord Magneto. I like the sound of that. I should tell him to stop, but damn me, I don't want to. 

Exodus walked obediently beside him, a few steps behind. When they reached the sea, Magneto turned back towards him. "Tell me, Exodus, what do you see?" 

Exodus looked over at the vast expanse of water. "The ocean, Lord Magneto. Perhaps I am missing something?" 

"Thousands of miles over that water lies an island nation called Genosha." Magneto clarified. "There, millions of mutants live as slaves. Mystique's attack on Washington isn't just a diversionary play- not remotely, but the cradle of our species will not be America. It will be there, in Genosha." He took a breath. "You won't be going to Washington with Mystique." 

"My Lord?" Exodus asked, his eyebrow rising. 

"You will go with me, to Genosha. And there, you will live up to your name. We will lead our people out of slavery and smash Genosha's power to oppress our people, forever." Magneto's eyes flared intensely. "And when the dust settles, we may find ourselves with far more than a simple victory. We will have a nation. A homeland." 

"There is no greater honour you could give me, Lord Magneto." Exodus replied, bowing again. 

Magneto smiled thinly. "I trust you will more than earn that honour, Exodus. Your service will be well-noted in the history of our people." 

"It is mine to serve, Lord Magneto. What historians write about me in the future is their concern. I hope only to be dubbed loyal." 

"I've no fear of that, Exodus. None at all." Magneto's smile broadened. "Now go. See to preparing yourself for our great struggle." 

"Of course, Lord Magneto. Thank you." Exodus bowed deeply yet again as he left the room. It was then that Magneto became vaguely aware of another person in the room. 

"Rogue." Magneto turned to face her. "May I help you?" 

Rogue looked over at Exodus's retreating form and frowned a little. "It might not be my place, Magneto, but ... you shouldn't encourage him. He's sick, he's not right in the head." She shifted slightly uneasily. "I'm sorry. It's not-"

"It isn't." Magneto replied firmly. "I'm aware that Exodus has his struggles, as do we all. He is also happy to serve our cause, more than he has ever been in his life. I would no more hurt him than I would my own son. Why are you here, Rogue?" 

"I wasn't ... I wasn't there in New York. I want to know why." Rogue said firmly. 

"Raven asked that you not go on that mission." Magneto replied easily. "I indulged her request. Perhaps, however, I should have asked you first." 

"I want to fight for our people." Rogue didn't quite glare at Magneto, but she matched his gaze like few people dared to. "I know Momma loves me, but I'm not a little girl. And I'm one of the most powerful people you got. If you'd ... choose me to go, I'd appreciate the chance. To prove myself." 

Magneto took a breath, completely unfazed by her gaze. "Very well then, Rogue. Would that make you happier here? To play a more active role." 

"It'd ... it'd help a lot." Rogue's gaze softened. "Sometimes I wonder .. it doesn't matter. Thank you. I'll go now, and stop bothering you." 

"You don't bother me." Magneto replied firmly, moving closer to Rogue. "You sometimes doubt that what we're doing is right. All of us have those moments of doubt. But Rogue, you cannot let them stop you from doing what is right. We need a homeland, a place to call our own. If I could do that without fighting, Rogue, I would, in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, that is not the world we live in. I know that better than most." His gaze was almost paternal. "I think you will play a very important part in the history of our people, Rogue. It's up to you to ensure that it is the right one."

Chapter Text

The Astral Plane

This is it. Xavier always talked about this place. Jean’s astral avatar raced through the luminous realm, created from the collective consciousness and unconsciousness of all sentient beings. Even the deceased lived on as shades of their former selves. She’d always heard that conscious access to the astral plane was, perhaps, one day, possible for her, but she’d never really believed it. Astral projection had always seemed like the one thing that Charles could hold over any of the other telepaths.

But right now, anything seemed possible. Jean was there, in the astral plane, right now. At first she thought it’d been a dream but then the little bird had shown her the silvery light. It was so easy to look into the minds of others, especially those drawn to her. To live a part of their lives if she so chose. She felt Kitty’s heart race as Piotr kissed her at the end of their dinner date, emerging love coming into bloom. She remembered feeling like that. She laughed as their romantic moment was interrupted by Kitty’s ridiculous “Tom Sawyer” ringtone.

She could feel Logan and Betsy sparring with each other and she could feel Betsy’s determination so viscerally in her mind. She could feel a lot of anger and resentment below the surface, but it was coming out. It was clear that Elisabeth Braddock was growing as a person, very quickly and purposefully. It was genuinely impressive for Jean. But she knew that more pain and frustration was coming her way soon, because she sensed that Warren was going to break up with her soon, through her connection to him. She couldn’t help but curl her lip at the notion of him dating Emma Frost of the Hellfire Club. Jean had never liked him being a part of the Club and she feared that he was becoming more and more lost in it.

Jean Grey was one with the world, and yet, she was floating above. She was flitting over Ororo and Kurt having a conversation with each other when suddenly, she felt him. Xavier. Her astral projection stiffened as she felt him draw closer, almost godlike. His presence felt like being in the sun, but she had no taste for its light. She surrounded herself with her own nimbus of light and fire, facing him.

Jean. You’ve finally reached this place. I’m so proud of you.

I suppose it is an accomplishment. After you kept it from me. You trapped  my potential, froze it as if in ice. And then you lied to me and everyone else about it. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. Or forgiven you.

Jean. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you but there was no way you could have borne the weight of your power at that time. Even now, you struggle with it.

Struggle? No. I struggled with the limitations you imposed on me. With all your damn lies.

Jean. Please. I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry. But now that you are coming into your full potential, you need guidance. I can help you, Jean.

What? So you could shut me down again? No. This is my destiny, I will chart it myself.

Yourself? Even if you shut me out, Jean, do not shut out your friends. Scott.

It is not for you to decide. I have nothing to say to you. We’re quite through with you.

We?

This conversation is over.

Jean Grey came to, with a deep scowl etched onto her face. She wasn’t surprised that Charles had poked himself into her business again. She knew that if she didn’t draw a strong line that he would find a way to manipulate himself back into her life, into her mind. That could not be allowed to happen. Jean Grey needed, more than anything, the chance to be free.

Xavier Institute Greenhouse:

Ororo had never liked cities, nor did she particularly enjoy even large buildings. She had learned to cope with both in her time working with Charles, but she would never relish either. It was a blessed relief to be able to escape into the world of nature, into a world of serene, natural beauty, even if it was, like this one, enclosed in a greenhouse. The flowers still smell sweet here, and the fruits and vegetables just as nourishing. Turning to examine some orchids, she heard a very distinctive bamf noise.

“Kurt Wagner, are we playing these games again?” Ororo asked lightly, her eyes flitting about at the greenery around her. “I thought you had outgrown them some time ago.” She couldn’t help but smile faintly, though.

“One should never tire of games, no matter what age one is!” Kurt laughed, teleporting again. Ororo’s nose wrinkled slightly at the sulferous smell of his teleportation. It was unfortunate that the use of his abilities couldn’t trigger a more pleasant scent. Lilacs? Rain on the savanna? She knew the rules of the game well, however. With a fluid motion of her arms, she called up a thick fog. She used little gusts of wind to try and spot Kurt, the breezes serving as an extension of her arms.

“You won’t spot me so easily, Ororo!” Kurt laughed as he teleported again. Ororo swiftly turned, though, and with a swift movement, swept her feet out on an arc, neatly catching Kurt, though he was able to roll with the fall to a standing position. But it was all she needed. She’d won the round.

Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re getting better. Or I’m getting worse. How are you, Ororo? I haven’t had the chance to talk much with you lately. Much to my horror and sadness, as you can imagine.” He playfully pretended to swoon.

“So dramatic, Kurt.” Ororo smiled, rolling her eyes faintly. “I am well, though I have to admit I feel somewhat on edge about what happened in Mutant Town. There’s a lot of fear on the streets. And far more heavily-armed police than I would like.”

“Of course, for me, the ideal number would be none … but you’re right. The people at the Church are nervous as well, especially after what happened to the shelter.” Kurt’s expression darkened a little. “We should do more to rid Mutant Town of these Purifiers, Ororo. They murder innocent people. Women, children.”

“In the name of a god dear to your heart.” Ororo crossed the distance to Kurt. “I share your anger, but we can’t let it blind us. I have full confidence that when the time is right for us to bring justice, we shall. In the meantime, perhaps we can do something to bind some of the wounds? There is a group of people, perhaps, that you should meet. They live on the fringes of even Mutant Town.”

“With you? I’d do anything, gladly.” Kurt grinned, bowing deeply and then taking her hand and kissing it as if she were some manner of princess and he a dashing knight. She would find it annoying from anyone else, but never from Kurt. His fantasies of chivalry had only the very finest of intentions.

“Then it is settled. We shall go to meet them together. If you have any old clothes you could donate, it’s always deeply appreciated.” Ororo smiled faintly. “And yes, the pants with the tail holes will be useful, honestly.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Fair warning, their leader is … prickly. Tread carefully. But they have come to trust me over time.”

“I put myself into your capable hands, milady.” Kurt grinned. “Does this group of mutants have a name I should be aware of?”

“They call themselves the Morlocks. It may seem unflattering, but they bear it with pride.” Ororo replied. “Their leader is a woman named Callisto. You’ll meet the others soon enough, though. We could go next weekend?”

“Lunch beforehand, or dinner afterwards?” Kurt grinned broadly.

Ororo laughed. “Lunch, I think.”

“An emerald’s as good as a diamond.” Kurt smiled. “Lunch it is, then. My treat.”

Crypts beneath the Hellfire Club:

The winding crypts beneath the Hellfire Club’s Fifth Avenue headquarters were rarely visited by anyone. Beyond the first floor, which held the wine cellars, there was little call for ordinary members to go down into the catacombs beneath. On the third floor beneath the building was the secret initiation hall, in which new members of the Inner Circle were minted. Only members of the Inner Circle had access so far.

Beyond that, was almost universally acknowledged as Selene’s domain, even by Sebastian, the Club’s titular Lord Paramount. Few others desired to languish among the dead, long-buried lords and ladies of the Hellfire Club, dating all the way to the late Eighteenth century, when the Club was first established in New York. It was here that she had built her shrine to her Apocalypse God, the Son of Darkness, the First Mutant.

She got down on her knees before the altar, covered only by impossibly long, raven-dark hair, raising her arms and crying out in a language that had died even before she was born, and she had once been lover to Alexander the Great. Many of the stories she told her followers and allies were, of course, false, but others were true. She knew that they would eternally be guessing which was the case. Had Selene witnessed the Crucifixion? Had she bathed herself in the blood of virgins for the sake of her complexion?

None of it truly mattered, next to the shattering reality of this, her living God, who slept somewhere far away, waiting for the time to awaken. She called for his strength and his wisdom, knowing, like always, that it could be centuries before he decided to rouse himself again. But this time, she felt a shiver down her spine as she said the words and she felt a very faint, ghostly presence.

The Daughter of Light is awakening. My time is nearly at hand. Bring her to me and our reign will be eternal.

Who is the Daughter of Light, Lord Apocalypse?

You will know her by her works. She has already stirred, but soon her fire will burn like the very sun. Do not fail me in this, Selene. The time of tribulation is at hand and we must ensure the survival of the strong.

I will serve, Lord Apocalypse, faithfully and well, as always.

Yes, but remember that you are a servant of a god, not a goddess yourself. You may fool the weak, but what I have given you, I could take away just as easily.

Yes, Lord Apocalypse.

Langudoc, Manhattan:

Warren couldn’t help but sigh slightly, his wings ruffling uncomfortably underneath their harness. He knew that he needed to break up with Betsy, needed to do it because of his ambitions but also because he didn’t honestly think they had much future together. She was fun, but I need to take myself seriously now. Emma and I could make a powerful alliance indeed. He wasn’t going to delude himself and say that he loved Emma, but he also had to admit that he was looking forward to the more intimate terms of their alliance.

Warren knew what he had to do, but as Betsy walked in, he couldn’t help but be amazed, once again, at her beauty. If Emma was a picture of blonde perfection- and she was, then Betsy was something far more exotic. Dark purple hair and brighter violet eyes, light golden skin, only a few inches shorter than him. It was no wonder that she’d been so successful in her modelling career. But he knew he couldn’t let his gaze linger too long, because it wasn’t as if she was going to be going home with him tonight. Or ever again.

“I’m glad you called me, Warren.” Betsy spoke, in a surprisingly composed tone. “The truth is, that I need to talk to you about something.”

“... actually, so do I. But ladies first.” Warren gestured towards her. “Unless you’d like to order first? I find serious conversation goes much better after a glass of wine or two. Don’t you think?”

Betsy shook her head. “Really? I don’t.” That surprised Warren. It wasn’t like her to decline the offer of a drink, whether she was right or not about her supposition. He then belatedly realized that her posture, the expression on her face, the look in her eyes. She was being serious.

Betsy took a deep breath and looked at Warren. “If I hold this in much longer, I’m afraid I won’t get it out. I’ve realized there are some changes I need to make in my life. Serious changes.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t think that I can keep seeing you, Warren. You’ve .. it’s been very fun, but that’s not what I need right now. I need to focus on putting myself right, straightening myself out. I’m sorry.” But even though Warren knew she felt bad in a sense, he also knew she wasn’t really sorry.

It should have made things easier, but instead Warren felt the sting of wounded pride. He let it sit for a moment, though. “... I see. I was about to say the same thing, actually. It seems we’ve both understood that we need to grow up.” It came out nasty. He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help it. It annoyed him that she’d broken up with him, rather than vice versa.

“Don’t be a plonker, Warren.” Betsy replied coolly, eyes narrowing a little before she sighed. “Please. We’ve had a lot of good times, you and I. I want to remember them fondly. It would be nice if we could be friends.” That was a platitude, and Warren knew it. She wanted to cut him off completely.

“Does it ever actually work out that way?” Warren asked, virtually rhetorically. He couldn’t think of many cases were it had. Sure, Kitty seemed to be on decent terms with her exes, but then again, that girl was an idealist to the extreme.

Betsy actually looked hurt this time, and he regretted it instantly. Warren had to break it off with her, but he didn’t need to be horrible about it, but maybe this way, she wouldn’t have thoughts in the future of rekindling their relationship. “... if you’re going to be a wanker about it, then I guess not.” Her fingers twitched faintly. This was usually the point where she might have stepped out to smoke, or ordered another drink. But when the waiter came, she only ordered tea and she remained firmly planted in her seat.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Warren sighed. “I’m just feeling a little raw right now.”

“Because what? I stepped on your pride?” Betsy narrowed her eyes, glaring, before sighing. “Maybe we’re both feeling raw. I’m also quitting fucking smoking, if you can believe it.”

“That’s great, Betsy. Good luck with that.” Warren shifted slightly. His wings were beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable. He wanted to find Emma, to get this over with and begin planning the new phase of his life.

It was then that he realized that he’d thought that out loud.

Betsy’s glare turned icy and downright murderous. It was all he could do not to squirm under it like some sort of worm. “Emma Frost. And how long have you been planning this with that poisonous cunt?”

“Betsy.” Warren sighed, looking more than slightly deflated, and as contrite as possible. “It’s not like that. I swear, I never cheated on you or anything like that. I swear. Read my mind. It’s true.”

Betsy’s lip curled in disgust. “Because she won’t fuck you until you’ve tossed me aside. I know how she works, you idiot. My family’s got a membership in the Hellfire Club too, in case you’ve forgotten. Enjoy her. Fuck you. You can pay for the goddamn tea, you dumb bastard.” She shot him one last completely murderous glare before storming out of the room.

Well, that could have gone better. Warren sighed as he sank slightly in his seat. He flagged down a server. He needed a drink. He’d go talk to Emma soon, but not before he’d had at least a double of some good Scotch.

The Oval Office, Washington DC:

“You called, Mr. President?” Tessa walked in, perfectly composed as always.

“Sit down.” The President gestured for her to sit. He pulled out a bottle of bourbon and poured two drinks. “We’re going to have a talk, you and I. Set a few things clear.”

“Of course, Mr. President.” Tessa replied evenly, accepting the drink with grace. “I assume this is an informal discussion?”

“The only kind that matters.” The President replied. “I’m going to get right to the point, because I don’t have to jump through rhetorical hoops here. I don’t like it when I find out that people who I think I can trust are in bed with outside interests. And good God, I don’t want to hear a word about whether you sleep with Sebastian. It doesn’t matter. I feel like I’ve been screwed, and the only person who gets to do that is my First Lady.”

“My position as your advisor is entirely at your discretion, Mr. President.” Tessa took a delicate sip of her drink. She had too much class to say it, but the tiniest quirk of her eyebrow suggested that Shaw would not take that kindly. And as much as the President didn’t particularly like Shaw, he couldn’t do without him, especially with midterm elections going on, especially not with both Senate positions and three House seats in Pennslyvania, which was where Sebastian Shaw had first crawled from the muck to claim power.

“You’re damn right it is.” The President replied witheringly, and yes, there was a note of personal grievance there. He’d trusted her. The half-serious jokes about making her Secretary of State burned like the bourbon he was swilling. “I should can you and send your ass packing back to Shaw Industries. But … my political advisors would kill me.” He took a breath. “And yet, for all that I’m pissed as hell, I’m going to apologize to you. Because what I’m going to do is low. It’s beneath me, but right now I need any leverage I can get. You’re a mutant. It shouldn’t mean the end of your influence here if people knew that. But we both know we don’t live in a perfect world. So I’m holding that over your head. Sebastian can do what he likes, but I can promise you you’d be ruined just about anywhere else, except maybe Xavier’s schools. Teaching does’t seem your thing, though.”

“I see, sir.” Tessa replied coolly. “I too, believed that blackmail was below you, Mr. President. Yes, I’m Sebastian’s woman, but I’ve never given you a piece of bad or misleading advice. You regard Sebastian as a necessary evil you are forced to deal with, but you have no idea how necessary he is. You have no idea the forces that are conspiring to topple the present world order, the one that allows America to carry on its grand charade of democracy. The wolves are at the door, they are inside the house. Sebastian Shaw is one of the very, very few things standing between you and Magneto. Or the Purifiers. If you care even a little bit about perserving the nation as you know it, you should work with him.”

The President sat quietly for a moment and sipped his drink, and actually let out a dry laugh. “God, that’s the first time I’ve seen your damn feathers get ruffled.” And the old cliche about women being more attractive when they were angry? He found it was disturbingly accurate. “Maybe you’re right, Tessa. But that means that Sebastian damn well needs to work with me too. I’m no fool, I know I owe him more than a few favors, but I’m the President of the United States, not his errand boy. You remind him of that, yes?”

“Of course. I’ll give him a call immediately to inform him of that.” Tessa actually smiled thinly- and the President realized that was the first time he’d really seen her do that, either. “I for one am glad that everything has been clarified between us.”

“Yeah, me too.” The President downed the rest of his whiskey. Jesus Christ. I should’ve become a dentist like Mom wanted.

The Brotherhood Base:

“Oh my god, John is such an idiot.” Kayla laughed. “You should’ve seen his face. Classic. When he tried using his flamethrowers and realized they’d been hooked up to a fire extinguisher.”

Rogue laughed. “Yeah, he’s not the brightest. I bet Momma will have some words for me later, but it was worth it.” She sighed. “We got any ideas for our next target?”

“I dunno.” Kayla replied. “That Blob guy maybe. And he can’t run very fast to chase us, either.” She laughed. “I shouldn’t say that. That’s harsh. He can’t help being … but didn’t he choose that name? I mean, Rogue, Rogue is an awesome name. Mysterious and dead cool. But the Blob? Really unfortunate. I guess we could get ambitious and prank Mr. Mysterious Super Psychic.”

Rogue shook her head and frowned. “No. Not him, Kayla. You ever … spend time around him? He’s not well. He should be, getting help. Seriously.”

Kayla nodded. “Okay, I can scratch him off the prank list. Geez, really? I just thought he was kind of intense and scary.”

“I’ve heard him talkin’ to Magneto by himself. Calls him ‘Lord’. And he basically worships him.” Rogue sighed. “Well … I’m sure we can think of something good. God knows it gets boring between training sessions.”  

“Yeah.” Kayla smiled. “It’s been fun, hanging out and stuff.”

“It’s been really nice. Like I’ve said, haven’t been around many people my own age. Momma’s not … mature for her age, but she’s actually over a century old if you can believe it. And Mom’s sixty. And it was just us mostly.” Rogue shrugged. “It worked, though.”

“And hey, you had two moms before it was cool.” Kayla smiled, looking out at the sea for a moment. “... you hungry? I could make us some food. Not many eating out options on this rock in the middle of the Atlantic.”

“... really? I mean, you don’t have to do that.” Rogue replied with a faint smile.

“I want to. I miss cooking and stuff, so badly, you don’t even know. C’mon.” Kayla reached out to take Rogue’s hand, and Rogue had to remember to pull it back.

“... remember my powers?” Rogue flushed slightly, looking down. “I mean, it’s gloved and stuff, but you don’t want to take the risk.”

“Sorry. I didn’t … yeah, I kinda forgot.” Kayla flushed slightly herself. “But … you can still eat dinner, so let’s go. I’m sure there’s got to be a decent kitchen somewhere on this thing.”

Washington DC:

Henry Peter Gyrich was a busy man, who hated having his time wasted. But he’d received a hot tip from someone in the DC grapevine. Someone very influential wanted to meet him, personally. So he’d found himself in a rather exclusive French restaurant- not to his tastes, he preferred simpler and more American fare. But such was the cost of doing business in this city, and he wasn’t footing the bill.

He had been expecting one person to come and see him, but instead he had three guests. He recognized two of them immediately, the Reverend William Stryker and the industrialist Donald Pierce. The third was a man he’d never met or even heard before, a tall, thin man of around sixty years of age with a quietly commanding air about him.

“You should’ve just told me you were coming, Reverend. Didn’t think French was really your taste, though. Unless that’s your doing, Pierce.”

“I’m afraid it is my doing, Mr. Gyrich.” The third man spoke, in a cultured French accent. “It is good to finally meet you.” He extended his hand, and Gyrich had to admit, he shook a lot more firmly than he would’ve figured a Frenchman would. “There is something I wish to speak to you about, an issue of great importance.”

“I take it we’re talking about the mutant crisis? If you’ve got some kind of solution to it, I’ll listen. God knows nobody around here’s getting much done.” Gyrich sighed, sitting down with the others. “The President’s soft on mutant issues. I don’t think he realizes the danger they pose. Even after the whole thing with Magneto in Mutant Town.”

“Unfortunate, that.” The Frenchman replied. “But Magneto will no doubt strike again. Your President may be ready to listen to our plan before long. But before we do business, or order food, I believe the Reverend would like to lead us in a brief prayer. With your leave, Mr. Gyrich?”

Gyrich nodded. He wasn’t religious, but he could respect people of faith. People of faith had values, and a lot of the time, they were values he could get behind. So he did the respectful thing and closed his eyes and said ‘Amen’ when the time came. When he opened his eyes, he noticed, there was a dossier on the table. “Right to the point, I see. Not that I mind.” He looked at the folder.

OPERATION ZERO TOLERANCE

Gyrich looked up at the Frenchman. “All right, you’ve officially got my attention. Now, give me details.”

Chapter Text

Xavier Institute for the Gifted, Front Door:

Bobby Drake wondered if this was a good idea. This wasn’t like leaving Brown University and signing up at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning- that had barely been a choice once they’d discovered he was a mutant. It wasn’t do to any overriding hatred, that had been one motivated almost entirely by fear. Fear of what might happen if certain groups found out there were mutants on campus. All the professors had written glowing references and they’d all …. found the nicest way they could to kick him out.

Which explained why he was at the mutant university, but it didn’t explain why he was here, at the doors of the old Mansion, where he’d been a student years ago, and, briefly, a member of a (totally amazing) superhero team. Good times, Bobby thought to himself with a smile. Being a hero had been awesome, even if fighting Magneto was actually ninety kinds of ultra-terrifying. The girls had loved the outfit. But like all awesome things, the X-Men had seemingly run their course. With Magneto locked up, the Sentinels shut down and a watered-down Mutant Registration Act proving less than apocalyptic, who’d needed them?

But now Magneto’s free, the Sentinels are being built again and there’s more violence than ever between mutants and non-mutants. And here I am, about to knock on the door and see if I can join the X-Men.

Just the night before, Bobby had talked to Hank about the idea of a new team of X-Men. Hank had seemed fairly neutral on the whole concept, basically saying that he trusted that Scott was making the right decision, but not expressing direct interest himself. Hank was always more of a scientist and educator at heart than a hero, though. Even if he’d become a badass blue ape dude instead of some guy with big feet.

They’d all changed, though, even little Bobby Drake, the eternal kid of the team. He was twenty-three now and had a honours degree in math. He’d kept in touch, on and off with the others- more with Hank, less with Scott and Jean, hardly at all with Warren in the last few years. And here I am again, seeing if I can join the new old band. He pressed the buzzer to the front door, wondering who he’d get.

Bobby, it’s good to see you again.

Hey Professor. Kinda wondered if I’d get the head buzzer as opposed to the voice one. What’s up?

Too much for my taste, to tell the truth. I’ll tell you all about it soon.

The door obediently opened and Bobby Drake walked down the long path towards the front door of the school. It looked mostly the same as it had in the past, though there were more students now- when he’d gone, there’d never been more than ten there at one time, only a few amid the gigantic structure of the Mansion and its outbuildings. He could see a PE class of fifteen students going through their paces, and signs of other students in the window.

Mansion’s looking good. Less empty than it did when we were here last.

It was never empty when you were here. For a time, yes, when you weren’t. But there are over a hundred students registered now.

And the whole university thing. Nice job, Professor. You should be proud.

The Professor had every right to be proud, he’d accomplished a lot. Bobby knew that people tended to focus on the negative, but so much had been done. Every single mutant here has probably felt the sting of hatred. A lot of them are or were probably as lost as I was. Bobby remembered how he’d been when he first arrived, his unpredictable swings between bouts of manic energy and absolutely crushing shyness. Covering for crushing depression with forced humour. Some of the pranks had been awesome, but it’d been some time before he’d found anything of himself.

It had happened, though, he’d grown a lot at the school. It was here, after all, that Bobby learned that he could amount to something, that he was smart, even if it was sometimes hard for him to focus on lessons- and that’d never really gone away. He’d learned that he could be brave, even heroic when he needed to be. He’d made some of his first really good friends, and well, his first girlfriend had been a student here too. And one of the new X-Men from what I gather. I wonder how Kitty is doing these days. Been awhile since I talked to her.

And speak of the devil.

“.... Bobby?” Kitty stopped and stared at him. “Where the hell have you been?”  

Only one way this can go.

“Think fast, Kitkat!” Bobby grinned, forming a snowball in his hand and throwing it at her cheerfully.

She could’ve phased, but she didn’t need to, dodging his snowball with one of her insanely fluid martial arts dodges. Probably best I don’t think too much about how good she looks when she moves. More snowballs. That’s what I need. Keep it light. Bobby formed two snowballs in his hand and threw them.

“You jackass! I don’t have any snowballs to throw at you!” Kitty took the paper she was carrying, balling some of it up in her hand and throwing it at Bobby, who scampered behind a couch. Which was a colossal mistake, because she vaulted like that like … some sort of champion vaulter. Landing right next to him. “You’re not going to win, you know.”

“... but what if it becomes a pillow fight?” Bobby countered with a broad smirk and grabbed a pillow from the couch, swinging it at her. “Only losers use powers!”

Kitty bent over backwards, remaining on her feet and easily dodging the attack, before dodging to the left and picking up her own pillow. “Bring it, Drake.” Her grin would’ve been positively scary if … no, actually, it was a little scary. But in the cool way.

Bobby swung his pillow at her valiantly, only to find it countered neatly by her pillow. “You’ve improved, young padawan, but you’re still dealing with me! I’m so cool they call me Iceman!” He just barely got that completely sweet line out in time to have his face smacked by a pillow so hard he fell directly on his ass. “... okay. Fine. You win this time.” He put up his hands for mercy.

Kitty of course, simply tossed the pillow at his face, but not hard, thankfully. “That’s for not keeping in touch, Drake.” She put down her hand to help him up and then looked at him, a much more thoughtful expression on her face. “I missed you, Bobby. You here to join up with us? We could probably use another grizzled veteran like you on the team.”

“Whelp, you know, I heard the old squad was getting back together, so I figured, you’d need a tough bastard like me on the team.” Bobby smirked and then laughed slightly. “Wow. Okay, so I was gonna say you look great, but that’d be like calling New York a good-sized town. How are you?”

“Bobby.” Kitty shook her head and smiled faintly. “Always the charmer, aren’t you? But thank you. You too.”

Yeah. She’s got a boyfriend. No get-back-together action for you, Robert Louis Drake. And that was the moment where Bobby wanted to take his own interior monologue to the woodshed and beat it half to death, because that was not what he was after, not remotely. And if maybe they’d kind of just had a moment like old times, it was just that- old times sake. He’d heard she’d broken up with Peter, but not anything about anyone else. Once again, thoughts. Woodshed. Beatings.

“Yeah, well, that’s a given.” Bobby smirked. “So I guess … take me to your leader? I got an offer to make him. Of you know, joining the team and stuff.”

“Pretty sure Scott’s going to take you in a heartbeat, Drake. Relax.” Kitty smirked, having instantly recovered her poise, because of course she had, because she was really, really poisey.

I’m so screwed.

Worthington Bank, 5th Avenue Branch:

thud.

thud.

thud.

Normally when criminals tried to rob banks, they either did so with stealth or in numbers, holding weapons. This time, a singular individual strode into the bank and announced that he was robbing it. The guards immediately levelled weapons at the gigantic would-be robber, causing a thick, disdainful laugh to come out from his lips.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” The Juggernaut sneered. “Those bullets are just gonna bounce off me and kill someone. I’m here to steal your damn money, not kill you. But don’t tempt me.” He demonstrated his point by lashing out against a thick marble column, which pulverized, shattering into virtual powder. The guards dropped their weapons and started running, just like everyone else in the bank, which suited the Juggernaut just fine.

I’m a thug, not a fucking psychopath. Only one person I really, really want to kill. Otherwise, it’s about the money.

The safe was probably well-built and would’ve been a tough job for just about any other person to rip off, but Cain? It was like tearing paper. But the outer safe was only the first step of it, and most of the money was held in a second safe that would require precision, not brute strength. And then, as if on cue, Black Tom Cassidy walked in with the perpetual insolent grin he wore on his face, putting down his equipment.

“Nice work frightening everyone, Cain.” Black Tom’s grin only broadened as he went up to the safe. “Now, you’ll have the job of keeping people away from me while I crack this open. I’ll probably need twenty minutes.”

“... where’s Terry?” Cain wasn’t sure if he really liked the idea of Black Tom bringing his niece on jobs like this. He had no goddamn regrets about being a criminal himself, it was the only thing he was good at. But the kid should probably be able to choose that. She was a bit young for that, Cain thought. But Black Tom thought otherwise and, well, Cain was happy to admit he was the brains of the outfit.

“Terry’s little abilities got me a lot of useful knowledge to crack this open. She’s in and fine. Keeping an eye on the security, in case anyone tries to sneak in.” Black Tom readied his equipment and then impulsively got up on a nearby chair to kiss Cain. “Stomp some squad cares flat for me, would you? You’ll have to tell me all about it when I’m done.”

Cain couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “Yeah, I got this covered. Ain’t nothing that’s getting through to bother you till you’re good and done.”

And what could possibly get past the Juggernaut? Cain cracked his knuckles as he tromped out to deal with the inevitable crush of police officers. As far as they knew, he was the only one responsible. And he was happy to let them continue to think that. He wasn’t a psychopath, sure, but he liked frightening and hurting people as much as any thug. It made him feel powerful, not that he needed so much of the help anymore.

But it sure felt nice.

X-Mansion War Room:

Scott looked around at the gathered X-Men. It was the first time they’d had a proper briefing in the War Room- the last time, they’d simply had to leave without much in the way of preparation or gathering. They’d gone largely blind into a dangerous situation and they were lucky that they hadn’t been killed for it. He looked around at the group, which had grown by one as of only a few hours ago.

“So this is the guy who we had that Danger Room mess with a few weeks back.” Logan smirked faintly. “He that tough in real life?”

“Infinitely more so. And unlike in the Danger Room, one solid blow and you could be crippled or killed. And only one of us has the capability of taking him down.” He looked squarely at Betsy for a moment, who looked back at him unflinchingly. “All the rest of us are playing assistance or distraction. As far as we know, he’s operating alone, but we can’t assume that for certain.”

“Scott, relax, we’ve kicked this guy’s ass before. And there’s way more of us now.” Bobby pointed out, looking around the room. Everyone’s so intense and badass looking. Look at them all. Like they were a bunch of intense badasses. Crazy. We’re the X-Men, not the Avengers! We’re the scrappy mutant underdogs!

Are your thoughts always so bloody inane?

My thoughts are awesome. Stop reading them, though. You don’t have security clearance.

Stop projecting them so loud, you plonker!

Clearly Bobby was going to have to get used to telepaths yelling at him in his head again- it’d been awhile since he’d had that experience. Scott, the eternal killjoy, was giving both of them a little look, as if to say “shut up both of you, this is my hour of glory, not yours”. Bobby tried his best not to think loudly and instead started to fidget slightly in his seat. Sitting down like this was killing him, and he didn’t even have something to do with his hands. How did people manage to do that, anyway?

So instead of listening intently like he should, he did a little people-watching, trying to figure out who got along with who, who was secretly dating and who secretly kind of hated each other. Nobody was deliberately way off in the back, so he guessed there weren’t any huge enmities just yet. Which was good. Enmity was bad. Except when he could use it on papers to sound smarter, then it was great.

Ororo and Kurt were a little closer to each other than the standard mean distance? A budding relationship? Or were they just good friends? Bobby made a mental note. And … that left Kitty and Piotr. Wow, well, yeah. I guess that’s it, then. By the standards of the average distance between seats, they were practically on top of each other. Also, they were holding hands. That was a common sign of non-platonic relations. Didn’t she have a big crush on him when she first got here? He seemed to remember that, but that was back when she was … fifteen?

“Bobby.” Scott said, a sharp tone cutting through his thoughts like one of Logan’s claws. “Bobby, are you listening? I was telling you what you need to do on the ground.”

“You want me to make a big ice prison to hold him in once Betsy here knocks him out with her awesome mind powers?” Bobby ventured hopefully.

“No.” Scott sighed. “You and Ororo need to work together to keep civilians out of the bank. It’s one of Warren’s, so we’re not likely to get sued if we cause some damage while trying to stop him, but we can’t have any civilian casualties while we’re there. None.” Scott leaned over and looked at Bobby for a moment and Bobby, for his part, was glad he couldn’t see the death glare that Scott was probably giving him, though really, his voice sounded more like the Professor than anything. “I need you to take this seriously, Bobby. This isn’t the Danger Room. We need to work together. You know how dangerous the Juggernaut is, and we still aren’t positive he doesn’t have help.”

Bobby nodded slightly. “Fine. Civilian screening. I can do that.”

Scott went on. “Piotr, Kurt, you’re with me. Our job is to make the Juggernaut uncomfortable and off-balance. Keep distracting him with attacks. Don’t let him start charging people. Once he’s got forward momentum, he can’t be stopped. Betsy, you stay close to us but keep yourself safe, no matter what. Kitty, Logan, the first thing I want you to do is get into the bank, quietly, and get any civilians out, or deal with any accomplices. And then, you come up and help us pin Juggernaut down if he’s still active.”

Logan looked at the screen for a moment. “I have a feelin’ we’ll find someone behind this. What I heard about Marko doesn’t suggest he does much without someone to pull the trigger for him.”

Scott nodded. “I have to admit I’m suspicious of that too. That’s why I sent you and Kitty. Hopefully you two can clear them out if they’re there.”

“Let’s do it then.” Betsy declared suddenly. “Let’s take out this giant plonker and send him to wherever they send giant plonkers like him.”

“I’m with Betsy. Let’s stop the unstoppable Juggernaut.” Kitty grinned broadly.

Scott’s expression was more sober as always but he didn’t seem to disagree with them. “Time’s wasting. Let’s get to the bank and do what we need to do.”

Worthington Financial Bank, Fifth Avenue:

The Juggernaut crowed with triumph as he picked up a police car and sent it flying into the barricade, police officers scrambling in all directions to avoid the squad car as it smashed into the ground. A round of gunfire erupted, but the bullets felt like a warm summer rain. His fists smashed the ground and the earth before him rippled into the barricade, knocking parts of it aside. He felt a slightly harder rain drop- they’d put a sniper up on one of the roofs. But they couldn’t do anything to harm him. Either it bounced off his helmet or off the rest of his outfit.

He looked up, trying to find the sniper, and then, almost impossibly, he felt an acute irritation in his eye. He blinked and he felt a bit of metal clink around in his helmet. He shot me in the eye! It was the sort of incredible shot that was either the sign of a true master or one-in-a-million-luck, but in either case, it was totally wasted on Cain. It didn’t even hurt. He grabbed another police car and hurled it in the direction where the shot came. Most likely, it would miss the sniper, but they might get the hint and disengage. And, as it happened, it knocked off a satisfying bit of the building itself, causing it to rain down on the barricade’s area, making cops scramble out of the way again.

It was then that he heard the roar of a jet- they wouldn’t call a fucking airstrike in New York City, would they? And with the airplane’s roar came an absolutely torrential rain, a cold downpour with biting hail that should never have happened in the season. And then he heard a familiar thundercrack sound, and he was smashed squarely in the chest with shimmering red energy that actually stung, and blasted him into a meter-deep crater. As Cain stumbled out, he saw that the shattered police barricade had been rebuilt in dully gleaming dark ice.

“... X-Men.” Cain growled as he got up fully, ready to charge the first thing he saw- until he realized that was nothing at all. He was absolutely surrounded in a thick mist. And it was cold, the mist froze hard enough him, caking him in ice. It wouldn’t hurt him, he’d dealt with far worse cold, but it was uncomfortable as all hell. And then he started hearing weird little rushing noises- bamf, bamf, and Cain realized there was someone else in there with him. He grabbed a chunk of the pavement and hurled it at the source of the noises, but there was another bamf, this time in a distant place. Another loud crack, and Cain felt himself hurled backwards a good ten feet.

I gotta charge, even if it’s blind. They can’t stop me when I’m moving. Cain got up quickly, steeled himself and started moving forward. He heard another bamf sound this time, coming from not far in front of him. Almost got whoever the hell that was. He wasn’t able to consider that near triumph for long though, because he felt electricity shooting through all his body, intense- it actually hurt, and since he’d stopped moving for a moment, he felt his muscles twitch uncontrollably and he thudded to the ground.

It passed quickly, but he found himself being attacked by yet another mutant in the thick mist, a larger one, using a ripped out streetlight as an improved bat. Cain managed to dodge the swing, wheeling in closer to the mutant, who seemed to be made out of some form of metal. He looked a lot bigger and tougher than any X-Men he’d seen in the past, but that didn’t mean shit when he was the Juggernaut. He grabbed the streetlight and ripped it out of the tin mutant’s hands, surprised at the resistance the other mutant put up, but still doing it easily enough. Juggernaut then swung it in an upwards arc, as fast as he could, as hard as he could. He didn’t know how badly the tinman would be hurt from it in the end, but he’d be out of the fight for at least a little time.

Then a thought hit him. Tom. Cain could fight these wimpy bastards all day and not have a scratch to show for it, but Tom, for all his intelligence and cunning and skill, he wasn’t any tougher than an ordinary human. If any of them hurt Tom, I will rip off their fucking heads. Every single one. His jaw clenched. He had to do something about this mist. It gave them a huge advantage. He took the deepest breath he could and exhaled as hard as he could. The result was as good as a 50 mph headwind, and he found that the mist had significantly cleared.

“Hey, Cyclops. Where’s your girlfriend? I was hopin’ she’d be able to see me squash you flat.” Juggernaut roared and charged at Scott, as fast as he could. Nothing could stop him now, despite all their trying. Cyclops for his part was able to dodge it, but it was a near thing. “Nice trick with the mist, but you’ve gotta bring more than that to deal with me.”

“Gladly.” A voice spoke from up above, full of cool grandeur. He looked up, only to see a statuesque dark woman waving about her hands and then summoning a massive whirlwind around him.

Cain laughed- no little bit of wind was going to stop him, but it got more and more intense around him and he started realizing with faint horror that he couldn’t breathe. Deep down somewhere, he knew he didn’t need air to life. But human instinct made him gasp and cough and his eyes bug out. A blizzard of razor-sharp ice fragments didn’t help matters, even though they felt only mildly unpleasant. Cain realized he had to do something, anything, so he started running, totally blind, right through the reinforced barricade. The weather witch had no choice but to drop the whirlwind and Cain managed to find a cop, grabbing him.

“Don’t you make another move, or I will kill this man.” Cain sneered.

Inside the Bank:

Black Tom whistled a familiar Irish ditty as he continued his work. His efforts were soon rewarded with a satisfying click as the safe came open, revealing all the money within. His niece, Terry stared, almost goggled-eyed at the huge amount of money that Tom was shoving into the bags.

Tom grinned up at her. “Much better than havin’ Sunday dinner with your father, isn’t it? A good portion of this is good as yours, you know.” He tossed her a thick wad of bills. “Call it your weekly allowance. Most of it is goin’ into a fund. You’ll have your share, one-third, in the fund. By the time you’re twenty-one, your five million or so might be twice or three times that.”

“... you’re stealing money so you can … invest it responsibly?” Terry raised her eyebrow. “Uh, okay, I guess.” She looked at the wad of bill in her hand. There had to be at least a few thousand dollars in there, cold hard cash.

“Sounds weird, I know, but a crook’s gotta have a plan for his winnings. Your Uncle Tom’s not an old man yet, but he’s not that young either. It won’t be too long before I want to retire from this game. And Uncles Tom and Cain want to live a nice life together. Poverty’s not to my taste. Been there, Terry, done that.” Black Tom looked at her for a long moment. “And I’ll be god damned if I’ll let my niece have a life any worse than mine. Goddamned. You’re my favorite niece, you know.”

“I’m your only niece, Uncle Tom.” Terry replied, but she smiled at him anyway.

“Real touchin’ scene there, Black Tom.” Logan growled faintly in the darkness, claws sliding out as he emerged. “But hey, the family that steals together goes to jail together, I guess.”

Black Tom’s lip curled in palpable disgust as he reached for his shillelagh, a roaring blast of incredible heat and force coming from it. Logan managed to leap out of the way of the blast, which scorched and actually melted a portion of the wall. Black Tom looked at Terry, with a very serious look on his face.

“Run, Terry. Run, damn you. I can handle this animal.” Black Tom turned back towards Logan, blasting him again with his shillelagh. This time, he didn’t miss, and Logan was slammed against the wall, flesh bubbling and burned deeply. Black Tom’s gaze turned towards Wolverine. “This time? I’m going to kill you properly, you half-breed psychopath.”

“Wow, that’skind of racist, isn’t it? I mean, half-breed?” Kitty shouted as she came from the corridor where Terry had run out of. Black Tom turned towards her and blasted her with his shillelagh, but the blast passed through her effortlessly. Kitty ran right up to Black Tom, and put her phased hand right through his chest. “Surrender. Now.”

“... you wouldn’t.” Black Tom smirked at her. “You’re not a killer, I can tell.” He twisted out of her surprised grasp, only to run into an enraged Wolverine, who immediately slashed out with his claws, hitting him deeply across the chest and belly. He sank to his knees, gasping.

“... maybe not, but I am, bub.” Logan looked at him, kicking him over. “That hurt … real bad.” There was a weird, inhuman glint in his eyes.

“Logan? Logan, you’re going to kill him. Stop.” Kitty gasped. “Logan, God, please, stop.” She put himself between Black Tom and Logan. “You’re not like that anymore. Logan, he needs medical attention. Immediately. Stop. He’s beaten.”

Logan growled deeply and it looked like for a minute he was about to push Kitty aside, but instead he closed his eyes tightly for a moment, his claws going back in. “... yeah.” His eyes met Kitty’s for a moment, and the expression took a moment for her to register until she realized it was shame.

Black Tom wheezed and looked up at them. “... please … don’t …” His eyes looked wide, imploring.

Logan shook his head. “I’m not gonna kill you, so you can just stop whinin’.”

“No, not me. Terry. Please, God. Don’t let the police find her. You’re the X-Men, right?” Black Tom fought for the breath to say the words. “I got her into this. Find her. Help her. Don’t let her life get ruined because of her wicked Uncle Tom.”

Kitty looked at Logan. “Let me find her. You .. you might need to patch up Black Tom.”

Outside the Bank:

These X-Men were not making it easy for him to take them out. The tin man had flown a long way, but he was back in the fray now, and seemed little the worse for wear. The weather witch and Iceman kept making his going difficult. And now he had some damn blue elfmonster teleporting around him. He felt a slight weight on his shoulder and reached up to smack the elfmonster, but he just teleported away. He realized dimly that his helmet had been loosened.

A bolt of lightning and an optic blast delivered mostly simultaneously made it nearly impossible to start moving. The blue elf moved in once again and his helmet was now almost totally removed, hanging loosely to his body. He forced himself to start moving and he viciously charged forward. This time, the elfmonster must have miscalculated his teleport and Cain clipped him in his charge, causing him to careen off, flying some feet into the distance.

Cain couldn’t help but grin when he didn’t see the elfmonster getting up. One down. He sized up his next target, the big tin man, and began charging, but the tin man simply stepped aside and let him through. He growled loudly and began to turn around to charge again when he felt an powerful, painful surge of ruby-red energy hit him, washing over him and blasting him through much of a nearby building. He actually needed a second or two to get up and shake it off, when he realized that his helmet was off.

You hurt Kurt you big fucking plonker.

Cain roared in rage. “Get out of my head! GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD!” He tore off in the direction he thought the mental signal was coming from, but instead, more and more intense pain began slicing through his pain like a knife, digging up horrible memories and shoving them back at him. His father beating him, his stepmother ignoring him, Charles. Always Charles. Directing father’s rage back at him. Father liked Charles better because he was a smart, hardworking boy.

“I am going to fucking kill you! YOU WILL DIE, DO YOU HEAR ME?” Cain roared, loud enough that his voice could be felt as much as heard. And then the pain just got worse and worse and he just broke, and suddenly he was that scared little boy again.

“No, Daddy … please don’t hurt me .. Charles is telling you lies again … please … please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” When unconsciousness came, it came as a blessed relief.

Piotr came up with a semi-conscious Kurt in tow. “He should see a doctor soon, I think.”

Scott let out a deep breath. “... good work, team. That was good.”

Logan emerged from the bank with a gravely wounded Black Tom on his back, with Kitty holding a pale-looking girl not too far behind. Logan’s chest and stomach looked like a mess, still badly burned, though much of the worst damage had been healed.

Betsy for her part looked unnaturally pale and unsteady on her feet. “... I want to go home.” She wiped her eyes, which looked watery.

“Hey … are you okay?” Bobby asked. “Maybe the Professor can help, I know sometimes telepaths feel stuff that other people-”

“Fuck off.” Betsy snarled in response. “Just sod right off. You don’t know anything.” She looked at Scott with a burning glare on her face. “Your girlfriend doesn’t like Xavier much?”

“... they’ve got their issues.” Scott replied coolly.

“He helped make that giant plonker the way he was.” Betsy said almost emotionlessly. “I’ve never felt pain like that in my life. Let’s go home. I’m fucking tired.”

“I think that would be wise.” Ororo looked sympathetically towards Betsy. “We could all use some rest.”

The X-Mansion:

Is this what it means to be a telepath?

Betsy stared at her drink, one of too many gin and tonics she’d made for herself. She wasn’t supposed to do that. Drink alone. Not anymore. But the booze did dull the pain. It wouldn’t do, not for a long-term tactic, but tonight she didn’t know of any better way. So she’d found a spot on a remote balcony in the Mansion, sitting and watching the stars listlessly as she drank herself half-blind.

“Hello Elisabeth. I hope I’m not intruding too much.” Her eyes narrowed as she turned to see the Professor come in. He didn’t seem to possess his usual easy confidence, however. “I know you must have seen terrible things in there.”

“You could say that.” Betsy replied icily.

“I’m not proud of any of that.” Charles closed his eyes for a minute. “I was a child, Betsy, I was so scared all the time. My stepfather was a cruel and terrible man. He mistreated my mother, and Cain and … me as well. But I learned, I learned how to redirect his anger, sometimes. I didn’t do it all the time. It was about survival. It … I should have been there to deal with Cain, not you.”

Betsy sighed. “I said things there, and on the plane. I was … I was angry, I think I’d picked up some of his anger. And his pain.” She took a sip of her drink and sighed. “I think … I think I can understand some of what you’re talking about. More than I’d admit to most people. My Mum and Dad and my brothers loved me, but, well, you imagine a little Chinese girl growing up in the British upper crust. I’d have done anything for people to love me. And damn near did.”

“Elisabeth-”

“Call me Betsy, for Christ’s sake. Elisabeth is something I write on government documentation.” Betsy rolled her eyes faintly, but offered a wan smile.

“I just wanted to say that I am glad you came to us. Truly.” Xavier looked at her. “If you ever need any assistance with your abilities …”

Betsy nodded. “We’ll see how I feel in the morning. Not in a life decision mood, too much Bombay Sapphire.”

“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for one of those?” Charles smiled faintly. “A drink wouldn’t be amiss right now.”

“Yeah, sure.” Betsy replied. “You best be careful though, I don’t mess around when I mix drinks.”

Elsewhere in the Institute:

“The look in his eyes, Piotr, it was terrifying. He would’ve killed him. I know it.” Kitty looked up at Piotr, her eyes wide. “It scared the hell out of me, absolutely and totally. I mean, Logan’s like … my second dad. I’ve never seen that. Heard about it. But not up close.” She huddled into Piotr. “Is this right? What we’re doing? Are we all cut out for this?”

"The day I am comfortable with fighting, truly comfortable, is the day I retire from society altogether.” Piotr replied. “But there is also, I think, a great need for us to stand up for those who can’t. I do not like to fight, but I will do so if I must, for those who need me. Those I care about.” He paused for a moment. “Logan carries many demons, I think. I am glad you could stop him. But I think he’s a good man, deep down. A very good one.”

“Damn right he is.” Kitty agreed. “I’m just kind of freaked out. I love him.” She looked him at him for a long moment. “Why do you always say you’re bad with words? You’re one of the wisest people I’ve ever met. God, you’re quiet a lot of the time, but you never ever say stupid things. Like me, I say stupid shit constantly.”

“And you are so passionate about everything, big and little. I love just listening to you talk about anything at all.” Piotr replied, kissing her forehead. “And you never stay ‘stupid shit’, you’re a genius and the person with the biggest heart I’ve ever met.” His arms wrapped around her. “You have a beautiful soul.”

“I thought you were an atheist.” Kitty smiled faintly as she moved up slightly to kiss him. “And thank you. I mean, that’s ... “ She decided not to say anything, just to kiss him again, longer and deeper than the last.

“Cheesy?” Piotr finally volunteered after their kiss broke. “You were going to say cheesy, aren’t you?”

“I was not!” Kitty exclaimed, poking his chest. “Absolutely not.”

“I think you were.” Piotr grinned, his hands settling around her sides and then suddenly tickling them.

“PIOTR!” Kitty gasped as he tickled her. “NOT FAIR! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!” She pushed him down onto the couch, moving up onto him and looking down at him. “Don’t tickle me. Bad. Bad.”

Piotr grinned up at her. “Tickling is bad. I see. But now you’re on top of me. So I think that is a case of mixed messages.” His hands settled at her hips.

“You like me on top, huh?” Kitty replied with a grin. “I’ll have to remember that.” She waggled her eyebrows. “How much do you like that?”

“... quite a lot, really.” Piotr replied, his voice a little deeper than normal.

“Well, I like that you like it.” Kitty grinned down at him. “I kinda like it too.”

Piotr responded by pulling her down into a hungry, passionate kiss, which she eagerly responded to, lying down fully with him, pressing against him. She could feel his hands inch up a little past the hem of his shirt, deliciously warm against her skin. Then again, everything felt warm just then. And she was fairly sure she was feeling firsthand evidence of just how much Piotr liked her being on top.

“That was some kiss.” She half-gasped out as they finally parted. “You … you’re really good at that, you know.”

“Katya ... ” Piotr managed to say, looking up at her. She realized that he was trying to ask her what she wanted to do, how much she wanted, but struggling to find words. She looked down at him and grinned.

“Yeah, that’s my name.” She smiled, tracing a finger down his chest. “Let’s just see where it goes? But first things first, that shirt has got to come off.” She grinned puckishly, using her phasing abilities to neatly slip it off of him. Oh damn. Piotr Rasputin.

“I worked out some.” Piotr grinned up at her. “... I want to see you too.”

“You’ve basically seen it already. Painting and stuff.” Kitty leaned down to kiss him. “I mean, those sheets were pretty thin …”

“Not the same. Not at all.” Piotr replied, his voice sounded thick and powerful and manly, but there was also definitely a tone of need there.

Kitty grinned naughtily, and shifted against him just slightly, just enough to make the tiniest little groan escape his lips. “Fiiine.” She phased both her shirt and her jeans to the ground. “Better?”

“Da.” Piotr managed to reply, strong but gentle hands reaching up to touch her …

The Hellfire Club Headquarters:

Sebastian despised most of these meetings with prospective members of the Hellfire Club. So few of them were at all worthy of his time. The last member to have successfully been inducted into the Inner Circle was Warren, and from the way that he was practically sitting on top of Emma, he was wondering if that had been a wise decision. He couldn’t personally choose everyone in the Club, but as the Lord Paramount, he did have a veto on who joined. Sebastian had used it in the past, to block Selene’s creature von Roehm from the Inner Circle.

Watching with him were two future candidates for the Club’s Inner Circle- people whom he had a vested interest in, as they were his children. He’d had a number of women in the past of course, and he was aware of a half-dozen or more bastards. But these two were mutants. The oldest, Shinobi, was the product of an affair he’d had with the daughter of a powerful Japanese businessman some twenty-odd years ago. The younger one, Stephanie, was the daughter of the woman who’d perhaps been the great love of his love, Lourdes Chantel. The girl was, in many ways, the spitting image of her mother.

I loved her, I really did. And yet, I owe my ascension to her death.

It was a troubling thought and he put it out of his mind as quickly as possible. Thankfully neither Emma nor Selene could pick it up to use against him. Many years ago, he’d had an implant placed inside his head which blocked out all telepathic intrusions. He could, at will, open up a channel for communicative purposes only, but no telepath could enter his mind. It had cost some fifty million to develop, but it had been worth every penny.

The first inductees into the Club were virtually worthless individuals, not even worthy of a Knighthood to placate them. The other members supported his rejections and they moved on to the final potential member of the Club, a tall, thin Englishman somewhere in his late forties with a neatly trimmed short beard and unusually pale skin. Truthfully, he looked something like a vampire. Far more interesting, however, was Selene’s reaction to the man. She looked like she was holding back rage.

“Ah my lady Selene, we do meet again.” The Englishman smiled thinly, looking at her with a total absence of fear. Sebastian sat a little straighter. This man looked worthy of consideration at the very least. “But I do believe it is the Lord Paramount that I need to convince, yes? Milord Shaw, it is a great honour to meet you.” The Englishman bowed courteously.

Tessa, what is your first impression?

He is intelligent and cruel. He doesn’t feel like ordinary men do. He is hiding great and dangerous secrets.

Sebastian looked squarely at the Englishman. “Well met, I’m certain. If you would tell us who you are, and what it is you promise to the Hellfire Club in exchange for your membership. Our ranks are an elite one, and you’ve not come through the ordinary channels. It requires something extraordinary indeed for us to set that aside.”

“My name, Lord Sebastian, is Dr. Nathaniel Essex. And what I have to offer you? The most powerful mutant ever born. I can show you to her, I can turn her to our side and she will serve the Hellfire Club.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrow. “And who precisely is this most powerful mutant ever born?”

“Her name is Jean Grey, Lord Sebastian, but that won’t be true forever. You see, she is in the process of becoming … something, and someone, quite different. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, she is ascending out of the hollowness of her human existence. Imagine, Lord Sebastian, having the power of a goddess at the command of the Hellfire Club.” Essex’s eyes settled on Selene’s for a moment, locking with hers. “A true goddess.”

Chapter Text

Avengers Mansion, New York:

Wanda couldn’t sleep, a state of affairs that had been happening more and more often over the last weeks, knowing that her father was out there, but also that mutants were suffering. She’d become an Avenger because she believed that it was the right thing to do, because she thought protecting the world was paramount. But SHIELD’s refusal to become at all active in the struggle against those who would harm or kill mutants had appalled her.

Internal political matter my ass. They’re afraid. They’re afraid of making a stand.

Then again, however, she didn’t think she could have taken the side of the Brotherhood of Mutants either. It was one thing to go after the Purifiers and their ilk, but a lot of innocent people had been hurt in the riots- and what did they prove, after all? They simply made life more impossible for the people in Mutant Town. Life there had become harder and harder for those who weren’t amongst the charmed few in the university circle, or given direct protection from the Hellfire Club.

She slowly got out of bed and slipped on a robe, heading outside to the balcony of her room and looking out at the gardens. How can I criticize the privilege of others when I’m here in a mansion? Wanda ached to do something, something tangible to help her people, but how? Who stood to actually do something for mutants in the world?

Wanda.

Her eyes opened wide. Father.

I’ll explain how I am able to do this later. I want you to listen to me. I cannot force you to do anything, one way or the other. I know I was not always the kindest to you or Pietro. I am not asking for your love or even your forgiveness, though nothing would make me gladder. I want your help. You know of Genosha, yes?

Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.

Then you know how our people suffer there, and no one does anything about it. You’ve seen the trouble in Mutant Town-

The trouble you yourself made far worse, Father.

Revolutions are a messy business. I am willing to admit that my move on Mutant Town was perhaps a touch premature. In any case, my next effort will be in Genosha, and I want you to help me. Not because I am your father or because you owe me anything, but because I know are passionate about our people. Mutantkind needs a homeland of its own, just as all manner of different human cultures, so infinitesimal in their differences have theirs.

You would make Genosha into a mutant homeland?

Yes, I would.

And what of the rest of the world? I remember your past schemes all too well.

Mutants will inherit the world. I will never deviate from that point. But such a thing will take a great many generations to accomplish. Genosha will do for the foreseeable future. Should the rest of the world come to accept us, they have nothing to fear.

You do realize that I’m an Avenger. If you do this, they’ll send the Avengers against you.

Of course they will. Listen to me, Wanda. I can do this, with little or no bloodshed, but I need your help.

Answer this question first. Why the hell should I trust you?

Independence Square, Hammer Bay, Genosha:

The Marshal loved parades, always had since he was a little boy. He loved the pageantry and pride of them, he loved seeing the soldiers in their flawless dress uniforms, see the girls cheering them on. He’d promised himself from a young age that one day he’d be one of those soldiers. When the Marshal was a young man, he’d marched in the parades as a common soldier and then when he was a little older, as a proud officer. And now he watched the parades from the balcony of the Presidential Palace, as the head of state of Genosha.

While the Genoshan military would never be as large and powerful as that of the United States, it was a formidable force, probably the best in Africa overall. The colossal wealth generated from Genosha’s monopoly on vibranium production had allowed the Marshal to outfit the Genoshan military to the standards of serious First World forces like the Americans or the Israelis. Years of putting down mutant rebellions had made them as steely a force as existed anywhere in the world, with unique skills that were sought after quietly by armed forces around the world.

The Marshal was incredibly proud of his military, but even he knew that it would be seriously strained if ever there were a major mutant revolt. It was with this in mind that Genoshan scientists had created special collars that could inject an incredibly deadly poison remotely or whenever one of the mutant labourers attempted to remove it. It was why the Marshal had invested billions in the Sentinel program, in exchange for two dozen of them for his own purposes. Genoshan wealth and prosperity had been built on the backs of mutants and he wasn’t going to give that up. To do so would have been treasonous in the extreme.

Besides, it wasn’t as if mutants were human. It would have been a cruel thing indeed to subject human beings to what was, admittedly, chattel slavery. The Marshal was glad for the mutant situation, however, it had provided wealth and unity for the country. Black or white or Asian, the diverse humans of his country could unite against a terrifying Other such as mutants presented. It had allowed Genosha to avoid the chaos which had descended across the waters in South Africa.

The last few decades had been good for Genosha, and the Marshal hoped to ensure that the next few would be just as glorious. Judging by the impressive show of strength that his soldiers were presenting, the future seemed bright indeed.

Abandoned Subway Station, New York City:

“I have to admit, I was not expecting to end up here.” Kurt looked around. It wasn’t a sewer, it had that going for it at least, though it was certainly cool and damp down here. “They live here?” He frowned slightly. This was not a fit place for anyone to live, especially if there were children.

“Do not speak ill of it in their presence.” Ororo replied, her tone slightly clipped. She hated being underground like this, it felt like a tomb, but the Morlocks were proud and rarely emerged from their solitude and only then to take what they needed from surface society.

“Never.” Kurt replied sincerely and then frowned slightly, putting his hand on Ororo’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Ororo shifted away from him a little and sighed. “I … I do not like being underground. But the Morlocks would not meet us anywhere else.”

“Indeed, for we are a homely people.” A low, but feminine voice replied from the shadows. Kurt turned and was shocked at how just close she was. His eyes, superhumanly adept in the darkness could make her out well enough once he realized where she was though. She was tall, lanky, probably would be pretty if she bothered to care about her appearance. She bore an insouciant grin on her face, though there wasn’t any mirth in her eyes, well, the one that wasn’t covered by a patch. “And which is yonder gentleman you’ve brought with you?”

Kurt smiled and bowed slightly. “Kurt Wagner, pleased to meet your acquaintence.”

The woman laughed bawdily. “Oh ho, a proper gentleman! Well met, Herr Wagner! I’m afraid you won’t find any tea and cakes here, though. Nor sack, nor malmsey nor claret either.” She bowed back, clearly mockingly. It was then that Kurt noticed the knives. A lot of knives.

Ororo raised her eyebrow faintly. “Callisto, no need to be rude. Kurt is a good friend.”

“Friend. Such a complex word.” Callisto smirked coolly. Kurt had made up his mind by then that Callisto was a dangerous woman. She looked like she would not hesitate one second to sink those knives into him and Ororo at the slightest provocation. Her eye settled on him and he tensed for a moment, ready to take Ororo and him out of the sewers.

“I’Faith, good gentleman, if I’d wanted your blood, I’d have it. In truth, I was admiring your tail.” Callisto raised an eyebrow, the cold smirk she seemed to always possess turning into something slightly different. “I suppose, noble sir, you’ll want the grand tour of our stygian domain? I do entreat you, though, to watch your feet and mind your nose.”

Kurt smiled and bowed towards her. “I would be honoured beyond compare, fair lady. Lead on.”

Ororo leaned in close. “Be careful, Kurt.”

“Ororo, don’t play the harridan. Sir and I are becoming fast friends, i’faith. Unless you’ve claimed this fair young lord in addition to the sun and stars? You are surpassing greedy.” Callisto’s words suggested humour, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Kurt frowned slightly. He didn’t particularly like the sound of that. He’d assumed that Callisto was a friend of Ororo’s, but he was beginning to wonder the truth of that. There were a number of things he wanted to ask her, once they returned from wherever Callisto was leading them. His thoughts however, were soon lost as he caught sight of lights in the distance.

Callisto turned around to them. “Behold, gentle sir, the Morlocks.”

There must be hundreds of them. Kurt’s eyes opened wide, taking in the sight of it. On one level, the abject poverty was appalling, but on another, he could appreciate how much ingenuity and creativity it took to have them survive at all. That wonder soon turned into deep sadness when he saw how many of them were young people, children. This darkness is no place for little ones. Children need the sun and fresh air.

“The Morlocks are poor, Kurt, but proud. Remember that.” Ororo cautioned, though her resolve softened a little when two young boys, one bright green and the other bright pink came up to hug her. Kurt couldn’t help but smile at that, and he swore even Callisto’s steely smirk softened slightly at the sight of the two children.

“Roro! You came back!” The green boy exclaimed brightly, while the pink one simply looked up and smiled before a shimmering, three-dimensional hologram of a heart appeared in the air above him. “And you brought someone! Is he your boyfriend?” The green boy grinned at her.

Ororo couldn’t help but laugh and Kurt swore she flushed slightly, though it was nearly impossible to tell for certain. “He’s a friend. A good friend.” She bent down a little and looked at them. “I want to show you a magic trick.” She smiled warmly at them. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” The two boys did so instantly, and with a swift gesture that must have felt like magic to the boys, candy bars appeared in their hands.

“Methinks you’re trying to bribe those boys.” Callisto murmured faintly. “Hark! Here comes Ororo, sun-dappled, with sweets for hungry children.” She reached over to scruff the boys’ heads. “Now, get gone, rogues, before I take your treasure and divide it betwixt your brother and sister Morlocks.” The boys scampered off, shouting out a ‘thank you’ to Ororo. “If only a few candy bars could solve all our problems.”

“It couldn’t, but small kindnesses never hurt, do they?” Kurt answered. “How long have you lived here, fair lady?”

Callisto’s expression hardened for a moment. “Kindness can hurt more than you can imagine, good sir. You can be just as gutted by good intentions as with a fillet knife, I assure you. I would that you not question me on this point.”

“I won’t, Callisto.” Kurt replied sincerely. He could see the pain just behind the surface of her annoyance. I will remember her in my prayers tonight.

“Good, you’re too pretty a picture to sunder with blood.” Callisto smirked back at him, and he realized that even with her rough-cut hair and slightly punkish leather outfit, her eyepatch and obvious obsession with blades that she really was rather pretty. “Shall we continue, then?”

Washington DC:

Senator Robert Kelly had a momentous decision to make. It wasn’t that long until he’d have to officially declare his intentions to run for President. The press had already started asking him regarding his intentions. He didn’t know, though. It certainly seemed possible to win, his party’s nomination at least though defeating the current President was going to be a tall order. He’d proven himself a popular administrator, managing an impressive recovery from the drastic market crash of `08, killing Bin Laden and creating an effective plan for making healthcare affordable for all Americans.

It should have been a nonstarter, but the truth was that the President had made a few dramatic mistakes, the most significant of which, Kelly felt, was his excessively lenient mutant policy. The President had openly hired mutants in the enforcement of the Mutant Registration Department and colluded effectively with Xavier and other radicals to neuter the Registration Act to near pointlessness. The American public had been uneasy about this for some time, but with Magneto reemerging, there were real signs that they were beginning to regard the President as unfit.

Why me? Looking at it from an outside perspective, he could see why. He was regarded as a moderate in his party, though he’d gained considerable respect for his firm stance on states’ rights issues and for his extremely upright personal life. He came from a potential swing state and had a personal connection to key movers and shakers in Washington. It had been Sebastian Shaw, a fellow Pennsylvanian and a personal friend, that had introduced him to his wife, Sharon, all those many years ago. Sebastian had quietly suggested that the time was ripe for Kelly to run for the Presidency, that he was becoming increasingly frustrated with the President’s soft stance on national security.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a soft knocking on his door. Damn, I lost the time. “Come in.” Kelly got back upright, smoothing down his tie and putting on his best photo-op smile, which soon became a more genuine one. “Reverend Stryker.” He got up and walked over to the Reverend, shaking his hand firmly. The Reverend, older though he was, shook it back just as firmly.

“Robert, my people tell me you’re thinking of taking the plunge and running for President.” Stryker looked at him. “Is it true, Robert?”

“Thinking about it, Will.” Robert smiled faintly, gesturing for the Reverend to sit down. “The current President is still popular, and I’ve got to overcome some strong candidates in my own party. It’d be a hell of a task, and I’m not sure if I want to subject Sharon and the kids to it. I’ve seen what happens to First Families. It’s tough.”

Stryker nodded. “Of course, it is hard for families. But I believe, Robert, that you must run. Who have you been talking to about what you should do?”

“The exploratory committee. Some important fundraisers. A few close friends in Congress.” Robert paused. “Why?”

“You missed the most important person of all, Senator. Or left him out.” Stryker looked at him a long moment. “It’s fine to talk to your committees and fundraisers. But it’s God who you need to be talking with. We’re all in His hands, Robert. Pray with me. Right now. Perhaps God’s light will shine on us and show you what you need to do.”

Robert nodded. “Of course. If you’ll lead, Will.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Jesus, your faithful servant, Robert Edward Kelly has come to you, seeking your wisdom. Show him the path he must take, for himself, his family and his nation. Bless him with your strength and your resolve and carry him and his family through the trials of the future, whatever they may be. Light his heart and show him the path, so that he might serve You better. Amen.”

“Amen.” Senator Kelly whispered softly. When he opened his eyes, he realized they were misty. He took a deep breath and then looked at Stryker. “Do you think I can really win?”

“If it be God’s will? Of course. We are all his servants, faithful or rebellious. All things happen according to His plan.” Stryker replied, his voice full of pious resolve. It dissolved slightly into the ghost of a smile. “But if you’re asking me whether I think the numbers look right? It might look hard now, Robert, but wait a few months. The mutant issue will strike again. And my people will ensure that it is made more and more significant. This is an election that will be won or lost on the mutant menace, Robert. Mark my words. And we’re going to win.”

“... I’ve got a lot of phone calls to make.” Kelly sighed faintly. “But first, can I get you something?”

“Just coffee for me, thanks.” Stryker replied. “But if you feel the occasion calls for something stiffer for you, don’t let me stop you.” He smiled thinly. “Jesus did turn the water to wine at Cana, after all.”

Robert smiled. “I’m going to need your support, Will. There’s a hell of a lot of people that are going to be gunning for me. I need people in my corner.”

Stryker nodded. “You’ll have my support, Robert. You’re the man I believe was meant to lead this country to better days.”

Our Lady of Peace Hospice, Norfolk, Virginia:

It felt strange for Magneto to walk these halls, for he, a man of superhuman vitality and resolve, to come into this house of dying. They might have mostly been humans, but he couldn’t help but feel for their sufferings. At least they experience compassion here. It was more than could ever have been hoped for in some of the places he’d been in his life. In the camps, there had only been the shadow of death, ever present.

Nobody recognized him for who he was, wearing a conservative dark suit like he was, rather than the infamous crimson and purple armor he was wont to wear. It was better this way, because all he needed to do was have a simple conversation with the woman. Clara Dane. She’d been a relatively brief presence in his life, but one fondly remembered. She was beautiful and young, and she loved me. He remembered how much he’d wished she could be a part of his life in the long run, but it wasn’t meant to be. He had another destiny.

He’d known about the girl for some time now, but he hadn’t known until now that she was a mutant. Clara had sent him a message, quietly, about Lorna. As he walked into the room, he tried not to show his sadness at Clara’s state. She’d become emaciated, worn, her hair largely lost to the ravages of chemotherapy. But her eyes were still as bright as he’d always remembered. He left the cream-coloured roses on her bed and sat down.

“Erik.” Clara turned to face him, smiling slightly, the sad smile of someone in constant pain. “... you don’t look any different.” It was true. He’d hardly aged at all.

“And you are as beautiful as ever.” Magneto replied, remember that he’d never told her his birth name. She knew him, like most people did, as Erik Lehnsherr. It must have sounded like a platitude, but there was something to it. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Ha.” Clara replied. “Your charm won’t work on me anymore, I’m afraid.” She sat up slightly. “Lorna is … special, like you are.” She hesitated to say mutant. Magneto forced his expression to stay neutral. She was a dying woman, it would do no good to harangue her. “She has magnetic powers like you. I wouldn’t ask you if she didn’t. She needs guidance so badly, and none of the rest of my family can give her the help she needs.”

Magneto nodded. “She shall have all the guidance I can offer, and much more than that if she wishes it. I will take good care of her, I promise.”

Clara fixed him with a look that nearly made him flinch, it was so intense. “You will keep her safe, Erik. Do you hear me? Safe. Promise me.”

There is no safety for our people. Only struggle, Clara. But he had long since learned to lie flawlessly. “I promise, Clara.”

Clara nodded faintly. “You’ll get to meet her later today. I’ve told her everything.” She paused for a moment, struggling for breath. “You’ll understand if her feelings are ...occupied. But she wants to meet you.” She smiled. “You’ll know her by the green hair. No dye can cover it. I know, I know you’d never approve of that, but she’s a fourteen year old girl. She’s not ready for that yet.”

“None of us ever are.” Magneto replied sincerely. “I look forward to meeting her. She will, I imagine, want to stay by your side for the time being?”

Clara nodded. “Yes. You can have her when I’m gone. But keep her safe, Erik. And don’t force her into anything. Guide her. Protect her.” She coughed. “Is it part of your powers? You hardly look a year older than when we were together. Can fifteen years be so kind to you? How old are you now? Sixty? Sixty-five?”

“Eighty-seven.” Magneto replied. “I was born in 1927.” There was no point lying to her. Who would she tell?

“.. your powers?” Clara asked, no doubt wondering about Lorna.

Magneto shook his head.

“She’s so much like you in so many ways, Erik. So bright and beautiful, so full of fire and passion.” She paused for a moment. “I won’t lie. I hate what you’ve been doing, but I know you too well. I know your heart is good.” She looked at him. “Don’t forget that. You’re a man, a man with a good heart, Erik. Not this mutant warlord they show on the TV.”

Erik was quiet. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that, so he didn’t. “I look forward to meeting her.” He took her hand in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing it delicately. “I’m sorry it never worked out between us, Clara.”

“No, you’re not.” Clara replied with a smirk. “But you meant well, so I’ll let it go.”

The Danger Room:

Betsy was damn proud of herself. She’d been working hard in her training sessions with Logan and she figured she’d learned a lot. She wasn’t fool enough to think she’d mastered combat, but she figured she could pull her weight in a fight if she had to. Logan wasn’t always the most forthcoming with praise, but he’d grumbled a few things about having to adjust the programs for her, and something about a special test of her abilities today. She wondered what that meant.

Logan himself came into the Danger Room, dressed in his ordinary clothes. “You ready for yer test?” He smirked faintly.

“... do I have to fight you?” Betsy wasn’t a fool, that wasn’t going to go down well, unless he went easy on her. And she didn’t want that. She was tired of people going easy on her.

“Nah.” Logan said with a grin. “You can come out now.”

It was then that Kitty Pryde phased up from the floor, clad in workout clothes. Betsy was used to seeing the younger girl chattering with her friends, or looking disgustingly happy with her giant Russian. But she looked singularly determined here, far fiercer than Betsy would’ve thought possible. Though inches shorter than Betsy, she was obviously fit and strong- scarcely an ounce of fat on her, anywhere.

Logan looked at them, one and then the other. “Rules are simple. No powers, no weapons. Don’t kill each other. Winner decided by forfeit or after five minutes.” He smirked and walked out of the room.

Betsy struck a fighting pose, as did Kitty. Neither moved for a moment, save to slowly circle around the other. I’m taller than her and much longer-legged. I should have that advantage at least. She decided to attack, moving in to try and trip Kitty with her feet, but she found herself lunging at empty space. For a moment, Betsy was certain that Kitty had cheated, but no, she’d simply moved a few feet to the left in order to dodge the attack. Betsy recovered her poise and attacked again, but none of the attacks connected. Kitty either sidestepped or blocked them with little or no difficulty, though she made no move of her own.

Perhaps she’s simply used to fighting defensively, Betsy thought. But though she didn’t have the luxury of watching Kitty from a detached angle, it was clear that she was being blocked and sidestepped with fluid, balletic grace and almost ridiculous ease. I’m being too damn stately about this, trying to have the right stances. I’ve got to attack properly. Betsy threw herself into it, putting up a flurry of blows, punches, kicks, elbows, knees, but every single one of them was turned aside and before she realized it, she was sailing through the air, landing roughly on the mat.

Damn it all, Betsy thought as she got back up. She hadn’t been especially hurt in the throw, but it was slightly worrying about how easily Kitty had done that. The younger girl had barely broken a sweat and was clearly just waiting for Betsy to come to her again. Betsy on the other hand was finding it difficult to maintain regular breaths. The damn smoking’s probably made wrecks of my lungs. Should get better soon enough. She circled closer to Kitty, making more calculated jabs this time, which were mostly sidestepped but occasionally blocked. She then dropped low and aimed to sweep Kitty off her feet, and this time she felt a half-moment of triumph as the kick actually connected, but she was instantly deflated to see Kitty work with the momentum of her fall, pulling a neat backwards somersault into a standing position.

“How long have you been at this?” Betsy couldn’t help but ask.

“Since I was twelve.” Kitty replied as she finally moved in for the attack, deadly swift and fluidly graceful. Betsy did the best she could to block it, but found herself almost instantly on the ground, in an extremely uncomfortable hold by a woman who she realized, to her embarrassment, was a lot stronger than she was.

“...” Betsy struggled to get out, but there was nothing she could do, she could feel her own momentum being directed against her. “... damn it all, I forfeit! You bloody win!” The hold instantly slacked and she was able to get to her feet. That couldn’t have been more than a minute. She realized that it was going to take a long, long time to master this.

Massachusetts Academy, Headmaster’s Quarters:

“So Warren … worth the wait?” Emma smirked up at him from her comfortable place, pressed up against him, one of his great wings lazily draped around her. It was a trite sentiment, but he really did look like an angel. Virtually perfect. As it should be, I demand nothing less.

“Do you need to ask?” Warren replied with a slightly tired but genuine grin of his own. “I would’ve thought last night would’ve more than convinced you.”

Emma laughed in that slightly derisive way she always did. “I suppose so. Of course, I could just burrow into your thoughts and take whatever truths I desired. I thought asking was polite.” A perfectly manicured finger slowly slid down his chest to his stomach. “Hm. In a few hours, we’ll be having the official opening day for the Massachusetts Academy. We should get ready, soon.”

Warren sighed slightly. “You’re not making it very easy for me to want to get out of bed, you know.” A small thought of the unpleasantness with Betsy flickered through his mind, but he dispelled it. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing that could be done about it. In any case, his relationship with Betsy was not destined to have a future.

“And yet, you must. I really am an awful bitch.” Emma smirked confidently and moved up slightly to kiss him lingeringly. “But you love it, don’t you? You like being with someone who is powerful and confidant and intelligent.” She sat up and Warren’s eyes eagerly drank up her beauty, a beauty carefully forged and managed to be as fine a weapon as her telepathy or Sebastian’s brute strength. “It excites you.”

“I’m pretty sure you can read that from my thoughts.” Warren grinned, his hands sliding up to touch her, but then, her hands wrapped around his and pushed them back. “No. No touching right now. Only when I say you can.” Instead, he felt her mind flowing into his and all of his senses enhanced to their full potential, far more than the usual.

I do like you, Warren darling, but in the end, you’re just another man. A very pretty one, yes, but just another fool for me to control and manipulate. Emma thought as she projected lurid, detailed fantasies pulled out of Warren’s own memories into his mind as a living, real experience. The rush of power that she got from manipulating him thusly felt as pleasurable, as good to her as any sexual thrill. To him, right now, she was far more than a girlfriend, or even the White Queen. She was as good as a goddess.

It’s my destiny to rule, after all. The Hellfire Club will become mine, and through it, the world.

She could hear him imploring, begging in his thoughts for permission to touch her.

As it should be. No one will demand anything of me ever again. They will beg for it.

At length, Emma gave the poor man permission to touch her. Warren was good with his hands, she had to admit that. He certainly had his uses, and as long as he satisfied her, he had little enough to fear from her inevitable ascension. He really is a pretty, pretty boy. I’d like to keep him for some while. Emma actually hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her, as so many others did.

Brotherhood Compound:

“So where did you learn to cook?” Rogue asked as a plate full of homemade lasagna was put in front of her. The smell of it made her stomach growl loudly. Not gettin’ enough homecooked food. I miss Mom. Momma was a pretty hopeless cook and usually relied on fast food when she was away on missions. Rogue herself had learned to do a little cooking, but she was far from expert at it.

“I was raised in a pretty conservative family, and they made sure all the girls knew how to cook and clean and stuff.” Kayla explained. “Turned out I actually liked the cooking part. Not the rest of it. And I’m not much into being a helpmate.” She dished out some salad. “It’d be better with some wine, but we’ll have to make do with Coke.” She laughed.

“Coke’s fine.” Rogue assured her with a faint smile. “And you didn’t have to do all this. I feel spoiled.”

“What, over this?” Kayla teased, laughing slightly. “It’s fine! I like cooking, and you actually appreciate it! The boys are mostly just as happy scarfing down TV dinners. Besides, it could be awful. You haven’t even tried it yet!”

Well, there was nothing to do to that except to take a bite. “... that’s delicious. I’d ask for the recipe, but if I made it, it’d probably come out burnt black.”

“I like to say that the secret ingredient is love, but it’s actually oregano and using Italian sausage in with the meat. And lots of cheese.” Kayla took a bite of her own portion and then, watched Rogue for a moment.

“... Kayla?” Rogue asked. “You okay?”

“Totally. Sorry. I zoned out. I zone out sometimes.” Kayla spoke swiftly, turning bright red. “I’m so sorry. Really sorry.”

“That a Canadian thing?” Rogue asked with a faint smile on her face.

“... what?” Kayla replied, still practically fire-engine red.

“Apologizin’ all the time for things!” Rogue exclaimed. “Don’t worry about it. You probably just wore yourself between training and cooking this- the best dinner I’ve had in ages.”

“... really? You think so?” Kayla’s expression brightened, almost totally guileless. “I mean, thanks. I’m glad you like it.” Her cheeks reddened again and she looked down. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Oh my. Sometimes, Rogue wasn’t the best at judging people right away, what they thought, how they felt, but sooner or later, the light went on and she understood, and immediately felt absolutely horrible. God, I’ve probably been leading her on. What do I do about this? I can’t get into a relationship with anyone, because of my powers … and I’m pretty sure I’m not into girls like that.

“... Kayla, I think we need to talk.”

Kayla’s face immediately deflated. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid and I’m sorry.”

Rogue frowned. “You’re not stupid, and the only stupid thing you’ve done is call yourself that. I really, really like you Kayla, you’re the best friend I have … but I get the idea that you want more than that … am I wrong?”

Kayla looked like she hadn’t decided as to whether she was going to trash the room or break down into tears, but she did neither. She just stared down at her plate. “You’re the only person who’s … cared about me, as a person, in a long time. And you’re so brave and have super awesome powers and are super gorgeous and, yeah, I like you. And not just in a friendly way. And I know about your powers and I just want you to know, that if it’s that, I can deal with that. Honestly, I can.”

Rogue hated herself so damn much at that moment. She hated not being able to give the other girl what she so plainly wanted. But it was no good to pretend. How could she kiss Kayla and mean it if she wasn’t attracted to women? It would never work. It didn’t help her feel any better about it, though.

“I’m sorry, Kayla, but I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not just my powers. I … don’t like other girls like that. I’m sorry. I’m really flattered, but I can’t.” And scared, because I don’t want to lose my one real friend here.

“... I get it.” Kayla replied quietly and miserably. “I … thanks for being honest. I’m … I think I need to be by myself for a little bit. I’m sorry, again.”

Rogue stared down at her plate, and realized she’d totally lost her appetite. I’m only being true to myself. Why do I feel like such an asshole?

Outside the X-Mansion, Westchester County:

It felt wrong for Remy to be walking up to the gate like a complete rube, it was far more his style to simply sneak in. But that’s not what Magneto wanted- there was no treasure that Remy could carry off that would be worth the trouble of inserting him. What Magneto had told him was that he wasn’t supposed to do anything to actively harm or hinder the X-Men without specific instructions. His job was simply to go in, get himself in their ranks and pass on anything he learned to Magneto.

I’m a thief, not a spy. He should’ve sent his woman, Mystique.

Of course, Remy knew exactly why he hadn’t done that. Mystique was too valuable to him, and what’s more, as his lover, well, Remy wouldn’t have sent her away if he were Magneto either. Quite the fille, that one. And with quite a lovely daughter too, though she was a bit young for him, he supposed. And he didn’t fancy having Mystique gutting him like a fish. So he’d stayed away from her. Overall, though, it’d been slim pickings in the Brotherhood. Maybe the X-Men will have more women.

He walked up to the gate, shuffling slightly. It wouldn’t do to look too bold or too confidant. He went over the story in his mind. He’d had a terrible accident with his powers not too long ago and he realized that he needed help with them. Remy called up real feelings from that time when his powers first came up, and brought them to the forefront. Not even a telepath would be able to tell he was lying, not without probing quite deeply. He’d known that, because Magneto had him practice on Exodus.

“Xavier Institute. Please stay where you are, and give your name and a message.” An automated voice called out.

“... my name’s Remy LeBeau. I heard you help people with … special gifts. I’m, I need to learn how to control my gifts.” Remy spoke in a flawless imitation of a desperate man. “I’d like to speak with Professor Xavier.”

And indeed, you can do so. Tell me everything that happened, Remy. I’m afraid I have to use telepathy to ascertain whether you are telling the truth. If you do not consent to this, you can leave now.

No, Professor. I need your help.

And all the while while they spoke, the Professor gave no indication that he sensed that Remy as lying, and after a few minutes, the gates had opened and Remy LeBeau walked into the Xavier Institute for the Gifted.

Chapter Text

Caldecott County, Mississippi:

Irene poured herself a cup of tea. The old house felt so lonely without either Raven or Anna-Marie there. They both kept in touch, but it wasn’t the same. Raven was busy with her work, and with Magneto- Irene had seen that in her visions a long time ago, and Rogue was discovering herself. And soon that path will take her far from me. The clock ticked, slowly, slowly. She was expecting a visitor, though that visitor would not be expecting that she was expecting him. Such were the nature of her abilities.

She got up and went over to the liquor cabinet, pouring a drink for her visitor. He prefers Scotch, I know, but bourbon will have to do. He’d come with armed guards, even though he didn’t need them. He’d expect her to go away with him and how could she refuse? She knew she couldn’t run from him for long. She’d be treated well enough if she didn’t resist.

There was a knock on the door. Ah, there you are.

“Hello Ms. Adler.” Sebastian Shaw said, walking into the room and looking slightly puzzled at her absence of surprise. “You were expecting me?”

“Oh you can call me Irene, dear. And yes, I’ve known you would come for months.” Irene answered with an enigmatic smile. She pushed forward the drink slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t have any scotch, Mr. Shaw, but it’s good enough bourbon.”

Sebastian sat down and took the drink in his hand. “If you’ve known I’ve been coming, then perhaps you understand that it’s best if you come along peacefully.” The man recovered quickly from surprise, Irene noted. “I need your abilities, and I’d rather gain access to them with your cooperation.”

“Yes, Mr. Shaw, I’m well aware of what you do to people who disappoint you.” Irene replied acidly. “I’ll come along of my own free will, lest I be beaten into a bloody pulp like your other enemies.” Her tone was full of distaste, the same that she might use to speak to a naughty dog that insisted on messing the carpet.

“Do not mock me, Adler.” Shaw replied, his voice low and dangerous.

“Do not make yourself so easy to mock. You’ll take a few barbs from me, Sebastian, because you need my abilities.” Irene replied archly, with the faintest hint of a smile. “After all, I am a harmless old woman. And for God’s sake, I haven’t poisoned the drink, Sebastian.” She looked around. “It’s a shame your loyal assistant is in Washington. I would’ve liked to have talked to her. The conversations we could have!” She laughed quietly and then gave him a stern gaze. “You do realize that one day, Tessa is going to leave you, yes? She’s a smart young woman and well, a smart young woman can be foolish in her love affairs for only so long.”

“Do not speak to me about Tessa, woman.” Sebastian snarled, fists banging on the table, sending her teacup and the bourbon crashing to the ground. “You had best guard your tongue, woman.”

“Or what? You’ll break my bones and smash my skull?” Irene asked coolly. “I know how much you enjoy beating defenseless people to death. But you won’t kill me, because you need me more than that. I’ll tell you my visions, such as I get, but I warn you, Sebastian, the future was not meant to be gazed upon by all eyes. You won’t like some of the visions I receive.”

Sebastian’s face took on a stony cast. “You see what may be, not what will be.”

“Oh, quite right, dear. But hubris like yours has only one possible outcome.” Irene replied mildly. “You didn’t have to wreck the table. My favorite teacup, no less. Oh well. My employment with you should be a brief one.”

Xavier Institute Grounds:

Piotr gazed out at the sunrise and made tentative strokes with his paintbrush, trying desperately to catch the luminescent colours before the approach of day made mockery of his work. He was so deep in concentration at his work that he didn’t immediately notice that someone had come up behind him.

“Coulda gutted you before you even realized I was there.” Logan finally said, before passing Piotr a cold beer.

“... it is early morning.” Piotr replied, slightly confused.

“Yep, it sure is. And we’re having the kind of talk that goes down better with a brew or two.” Logan’s expression looked serious. “I got a six pack. Won’t do a damn thing for me, but you’re a cheap drunk for your size.”

“What are we talking about, precisely?” Piotr asked with a raised eyebrow. He actually had a fairly good idea, but he’d let Logan set the tone of the conversation.

“Don’t play the idiot. I know damn well that you know damn well what we’re talking about.” Logan opened his beer and passed the bottle opener to Piotr, who at length, opened his own. “You know Kitty and I are close. And I know she’s a smart girl and she’s unlikely to fall for some worthless prick, but I want to hear this stuff from you.”

Piotr looked at Logan. “... what is there to say? I care deeply for her. It has not been very long since we started seeing each other, I know, but it is not a fling or anything like that.” He took a drink of the beer. “I love her. Truly. I do not know what else to say.”

Logan nodded. “That works. Like I’ve said before, I like you, kid. But I gotta tell you straight up, if you turn out to be a prick and hurt her, I’m not gonna be okay with you anymore.” He grinned. “But that won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No, I do not think so.” Piotr replied. “... so what now? We have said, I think, what you wanted us to say.”

Logan laughed. “Now we’ve just got some beer to finish.” He lit up a cigar. The Russian positively reeked of Kitty. Sometimes he hated his mutant powers. He looked over at the canvas. “Nice painting, Pete. You ever sell them?”

“It is not easy to get pictures sold and besides, many of them are too dear to me to be let go of.” Piotr replied. “This picture … it is not that good. Art is about truth, and this does not show the truth of a sunrise.”

“... you think you can do that? Capture something on paint?” Logan asked, honestly curious. He sucked back his beer.

“I can. I have.” Piotr replied. “... it is not working today, though. Art is fickle sometimes.”

“What about Kitty?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “You painted her?”

“... a few times, yes.” Piotr smiled faintly, though his cheeks reddened slightly.

"Don't put it on the Internet." Logan replied. "Or we're gonna really have a problem." 

"She'd kill me first, I'm quite certain." Piotr replied without any hesitation. 

"I'd kill you more." Logan answered with a slightly unsettling grin. 

Xavier Institute for the Gifted, Headmaster’s Office:

“I want you to start from the beginning, Mr. LeBeau.” Charles steepled his fingers and looked at the man before him. With his glasses off, his mutation was visible, though fairly subtle, black eyes with glowing red irises. He was scruffily dressed and seemed to eternally slouch, though Charles had the impression that was, at least somewhat, a ruse. He seemed to have the laziness of a cat in a sunbeam- one that could be broken by swift action at any time.

“... Professor.” He had an extremely thick accent that marked him as a Cajun. “I first discovered my powers some years ago. I could put energy in things, make them explode. Did tricks with it at first. Earn a little money. I grow up poor, anything that can help get a room for the night or a hot meal is good, oui? But my powers, they grow stronger … I start out, I can make a playing card blow up. Some marbles. But now I explode a baseball and it’s like a hand grenade.”

Remy took a breath. “I get scared. I turn to people who say they can help me. But they’re thieves and assassins, bad people. They used me to pull off their jobs. But my powers, they keep growing. One day, I lose control and I hurt someone I cared about. Bad. She dies a few days later and I start running. Away from the bad people, away from bad memories. Try to make a new start. And that’s why I’m here.”

Xavier looked thoughtfully for a moment. He picked up no indication that Remy was lying, none whatsoever. “You’ll have to tell us what you know about these criminals, in case they come looking. However, I feel that we can offer the sanctuary and the training you need. If I might ask, what is your educational status?”

“... not good, Professor. People never thought much of school back where I came from. Neither did I. Bad, probably, but it was what it was.” Remy shrugged. “`Suppose I wouldn’t turn down getting a GED or something either.”

“We may be able to do a great deal better than that.” Xavier replied with a small smile. “Welcome to the Xavier Institute for the Gifted, Remy.”

He has no idea, the old man. Remy didn’t dare smirk on the outside, but it felt good, knowing that he hadn’t lost his old touch. Some of the elements of the story were true, but most of it was fabrication and misrepresentation. And while he wasn’t that educated in a formal way, he was a good ideal smarter than he let on. It was good though for people to underestimate him a little, make them feel sorry for him. And really, I’m not here to hurt them. Magneto, he doesn’t have any problem with them, deep down. Maybe they see that one day. In the meantime, however, he had no problem living off of their kindness. And maybe there are some women here for ol’ Remy. Been too long.

But he had a job to do, and while he might have been in the Institute, he hadn’t really won anyone’s trust fully, yet. That would take time, but Remy had no doubt that he’d earn it soon enough. People had a knack for falling for his charm. Sometimes he’d wondered if he had another mutant power, but it really didn’t matter. The main point was that he’d find himself in possession of the X-Men’s secrets and then, well, he’d figure out how to get Magneto to pay handsomely for them. He wasn’t afraid to play both sides, if he came out ahead in the end.

SHIELD Headquarters, Helicarrier One

Nick Fury stared at the map, pointing towards an isolated island just off the coast of the Northeastern United States. He looked up at Agent Coulson grimly.

“You’re positive?” Nick finally said, breaking the silence.

“Dead positive, sir.” Agent Coulson replied. “Him and his Brotherhood are there. We couldn’t get inside for any length of time, but we estimate he has about three dozen mutant followers with him, of power levels varying between impressive to nearly equal to Magneto himself. Many of them are known mutant criminals, though other ones are still new to our database.”

Nick’s face hardened. “Only one thing to do then, Phil.”

“Call the Avengers, sir?” Agent Coulson looked at the map. “Should we send SHIELD backup with them?”

“A Helicarrier within ten miles of that island is just ammunition for Magneto. I want this moved on in 24 hours. We can get a small jet demagnetized, enough to get the Avengers there. Stark’s already prepared a magnetism-resistant armour for the event and we know that Captain America’s shield is immune to magnetism. I want this to be quick. Go and take down Magneto, fast. Even if it means the other Brotherhood members get away in the short term. Without the head, the beast will die.”

Agent Coulson thought about it for a moment. “What about the twins, Nick? Can we trust them to go and fight their father?”

Nick paused for a moment to take out a cigar and light it. “Pietro? Maybe. He’s got real bad blood with Magneto. And he never really believed much of the mutant pride stuff. I think he only ever joined to keep an eye on his sister. I’ll let Steve make that judgement, he’ll know and I respect his judgement on that.”

“... Wanda?” Coulson asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“Hell no.” Fury answered. “No way in hell, Phil. You honestly think, deep down, that she doesn’t believe that mutants are better than we are? She’s disagreed with her father on a lot of things, but I don’t think she’s at all reliable. Not for this. She stays back.”

“She won’t like that.” Coulson sighed, reaching for his coffee. “Not one bit, Nick.”

“She won’t.” Fury agreed. “It doesn’t matter. She stays back. We can call it reserve duty.”

Coulson took a sip of her coffee. “Who gets to tell her the bad news, then?”

“Steve.” Fury replied, taking a puff of his cigar. “She respects him. More than any of us. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she kind of liked him. But if anyone can talk her down from something stupid, it’s him.”

“He won’t like that either.” Coulson sighed again. “He chose her personally.”

“And he’s a soldier who will do what he’s told in the end, damn it. She stays behind.” Fury shook his head. “Any other news?”

“Well, Colonel Brand up at the Peak is asking for more men and money again. Something about the Shi’ar believing their deity is about to be reborn somewhere in the sector.” Coulson looked at the map again. “I think we need to focus on this, though. Magneto’s got half the world scared with that stunt. If we can take him out, we can make things better for everyone.”

Fury turned to look out the window. “How’s that cellist, Phil?” He looked at him. “You gonna make an honest woman out of her someday?”

“We’ve talked about the possibility.” Coulson admitted. “... Gyrich hasn’t sent you another missive about that, has he?”

“He regards mutants as terrorists in waiting. He thinks you’re compromised. I say he’s a barking dog. It’s not an issue with SHIELD, until it becomes an issue.” Fury took a deep puff on his cigar. “When’s her next recital? I can’t stand those things, but the Contessa, well, she has a weakness for classical music.”

“Next Thursday, Nick.” Agent Coulson replied with a small grin. “So, is it your turn or mine to buy the drinks once we take Magneto down?”

“It’s your damn turn, Phil. I bought the drinks when the Kree didn’t blow up Earth.” Nick actually chuckled faintly. “But let’s get the job done first. Magneto isn’t going to go down easy.”

Avengers Mansion, later the same day:

“What do you mean I am not permitted to go on this mission?” Wanda glared at Steve, intense green eyes focused on him. “Do you think that, what, I will betray you? Have I not fought alongside the Avengers for years?”

Steve hated this, hated being told to tell her this. But while on any other mission, he would have trusted her absolutely, he couldn’t quite look Nick in the eye and tell him that he could vouch for Wanda being able to fight her own father. “He’s your father. You shouldn’t have to fight your own father. Wanda, you know I trust you. But no daughter should have to fight her father.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

Wanda violently wrenched herself away from him. “So … you don’t trust me, then. If you did, you could have told Fury differently. But you don’t trust me.” Her glare intensified, into something far more personal. It looked angry as much as looked hurt. “I thought, after all this time, after what we’ve been through, I thought you would trust me.” Father tried, but I told him I would have no part of this. He reached out to me, though, after I actually did betray him. Steve … why can’t you trust me?

“Wanda.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t going to tell her it wasn’t his decision, because that wasn’t completely true. Damn it, why did this have to fall to me? She was hurt as she was angry, and he instinctively wanted to comfort her, but that wasn’t going to work. They were good friends and sometimes Steve wondered if they were drifting towards something more than that, but he didn’t know how that was going to go now. “I’m truly sorry. You deserve better.”

Wanda looked down for a moment and then squarely looked him in the eye. “He tried to reach me, with his telepath. I told him no. I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. That I couldn’t trust him. That I was an Avenger. But you know what? He reached out to me, even though I had betrayed him, actually betrayed him. I serve for years as an Avenger and Fury still thinks I’m a damned terrorist! What about Pietro? What are you telling him?”

Steve took a deep breath. “... he contacted you? And you didn’t tell anyone? Don’t you think that’s grounds? Think about that. What if we’d been able to find him earlier? How long ago did this happen?”

“A few days.” Wanda replied, realizing that it was probably a mistake to tell him that. “Steve. Let me do this. I won’t let you down. Please.” She sighed.

“I can’t, Wanda.” Steve answered quietly, but firmly. “I’m not going to report this, this time. You might not have had any information given to you anyway. I won’t be able to overlook that a second time, though.”

“... Steve.” Wanda paused for a moment before speaking. “Genosha. He wants Genosha. That’s his plan. To make Genosha a mutant homeland.”

Steve nodded quietly, sighing. “I need to pass that on, Wanda. There’s no way around that, and they’re not going to like you withholding information like that. I can’t let you go on this mission, Wanda.”

“Yes, I understand.” Wanda replied in a cool tone. You don’t want me here, not anymore. I’m not trusted, I’m not wanted.

Brotherhood Headquarters:

Raven strode into Magneto’s office, hips swaying carelessly. “You called, honeybunch?”

Magneto turned around, looking seriously at her. “The Avengers are coming to this island. I want you to take the Brotherhood and move to our base on the mainland.”

“... you’re fucking joking.” Raven looked at him, disbelief written on her face. “The Avengers are coming and you’re going to send off thirty-seven powerful mutants who will fight for you? What the hell? What about me? You think I want to fuck off and have you fight them alone? So what, you can show how big your metaphorical mutant cock is?”

“Raven.” Magneto replied, but in a tone softer than his normal one. “I can do this. And the Brotherhood needs to be at full strength for what comes ahead. And should the unthinkable happen, I need someone I can trust to lead them. You’re the only one I trust, Raven.”

“This isn’t some half trained bunch of mutant kids, lover. This is the Avengers. You might be the most awesome mutant ever, but do not underestimate them. Don’t.” Raven crossed the distance to him. “I want to be there with you, we should be there with you, if they’re coming. Or we should all damn go to the mainland for awhile.”

Magneto stood up and slipped his arms around her waist. “No. The world must see that their heroes cannot protect them, cannot stop us from claiming what is ours. If you and the other members of the Brotherhood are gone, I do not need to hold back. This entire base is a weapon I can use, but I can only fully do so if I know there aren’t any of my followers there. The Avengers will fall, and the world will shake at the news of it. Besides, they’ve a … special hatred of you and Rogue. I’m certain you haven’t forgotten that?”

Raven shook her head. “My girl never meant to do that, and they should damn well know that. Not that I give a damn about Carol Danvers.” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll do as you ask, but I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to like leaving you alone to fight them and I don’t have to like being away from you for one damn moment longer than I have to.”

Magneto’s hand gently brushed against her cheek. “We won’t be apart for long, I promise you.”

“We’d better not be.” Raven replied determinedly before pulling him down for a long, passionate kiss. When they finally parted, she looked him right in the eye. “I love you, you glorious bastard. You kick their damn asses, or I kick yours when I come bust you out of prison.”

“And I you.” Magneto replied, before kissing her again.

Xavier Institute, War Room:

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to us, Charles.” Nick Fury’s image spoke from behind the screen. “SHIELD is glad to have your cooperation at this critical juncture.”

Charles nodded. “We’re happy to offer it, though I should defer to Scott regarding any finer details of cooperation. He is in charge of any of the X-Men’s operations.”

“You say you’ve located Magneto?” Scott asked crisply. “What do you want from us? I can’t imagine that SHIELD would want to be seen openly operating with the X-Men.”

“Intelligence, son.” Nick Fury replied. “Any and all of it that you have. And while we can’t openly operate with the X-Men, we’d like to quietly work with you on sorting out any remaining members of the Brotherhood after we take down Magneto. By the way, good work fighting the Juggernaut in the city. Bit messy, but it saved us a call.”

Scott ignored his indignation at being called ‘son’. It wasn’t productive. “Certainly, sir. We’ll offer anything we have. And of course, we’re as interested in getting rid of the Brotherhood as you. We’d be happy to work with you in apprehending any known members of the organization.” That was certainly a stretch in truth, but there were advantages to be gained through cooperation with the Avengers. “But while I’m aware that it might not be ideal, don’t you think you’d want all the manpower you can get? Magneto has dozens of followers around him.”

“Your offer of assistance is very kind, son, but it’s coming late. We’ve made all the preparations. Magneto’s going to get blindsided. His followers won’t have time to get organized.” Fury lit his cigar. “Once he’s hauled in, we’ll talk about further plans for getting rid of whatever remains of the Brotherhood.”

“I’ll get the files transferred. But, General Fury? If I can emphasize something? Don’t underestimate Magneto. Do not underestimate him. Especially if you’re attacking him where he lives.” Scott looked squarely at Fury.

“I appreciate the sentiment, son. Rest assured, we do not underestimate him. We’ve also dealt with worse before.” Fury took a puff of his cigar. “We’re attacking tonight.”

Chapter Text

Avengers Quinjet:

“You look like you’ve had better days, Steve.” Natasha looked at him for a long moment. “You’re not usually quite so down before a big mission. Wanda?”

“... I did what I had to do. Doesn’t mean it I have to like it.” Steve sighed. “And I don’t like getting the upload of information on someone we’re supposed to take down as we’re headed out to his base.”

“She’s going to be mad for awhile, but she’ll understand. She’s smart.” Natasha opined as she loaded up her stingers. “Hell, I’m wondering why I’m here. Maybe if there’s some mopping up with the Brotherhood.”

“You’re one of the best we have.” Steve replied firmly and then sighed. “We’ve already lost a lot of potential power. Pietro’s angry as hell too.”

“Protective twin brother. Can you seriously blame him?” Natasha shrugged. “I figure most of us are running distraction. Thor’s got the muscle to actually nail Magneto. Let’s just hope that Stark’s demagnetization worked.”

“It will.” Steve replied. “Tony’s a lot of things, but one of them is a genius.”

“So is Magneto.” Natasha replied. “The man invented adamantium and put forward papers advancing unified field theory by a decade. People have been trying to copy your shield for decades and he showed out of nowhere with a formula.”

“Adamantium’s not the same.” Steve took a look over at his shield. “It’s as strong, yeah, but it’s a lot heavier. And magnetically reactive.”

“Magneto is also a guy who dresses up in ridiculous red and purple robes.” Tony Stark opined. “Believe me, this suit is good to go. We’ll be home in time for happy hour at Boardwalk. And don’t worry Steve, your girlfriend will get over it.” He reached over to pat Steve’s shoulder.

“She is not my girlfriend.” Steve glared for a moment at Tony. “And I don’t know if we’re friends either, not after this.” He took a breath. “I need to stop thinking about it. Clint, how far are we from the island?”

“We’re about ten minutes out. So finish your coffees, because I’m expecting serious resistance.” Clint sighed for a moment. It felt wrong to be flying the plane. That was Carol’s job, but ever since that Brotherhood girl had taken her powers, she’d been retired from the Avengers. Clint had packed special arrows for that. Damn it all, but if I can, I’m gonna get some payback for her. “Patch in to Thor and tell him to give us some cover.”

Steve nodded and did just that and within moments, there was a satisfyingly dark fog wrapped around them. He turned around slightly so he could face most of the others. “We’re about to go into an extremely dangerous situation. Our goal is to neutralize and apprehend Magneto as quickly as possible. Apprehending other Brotherhood members is secondary. If we have to leave them behind in order to take Magneto, we do. There might be heavy resistance, we’re going to need to act as one unit. No ego plays.”

“Avengers, I’ve picked up something you might be interested in on my radar.” Jarvis chimed in at the moment. “It appears we may not have the advantage of surprise after all.”

That is going to make things a lot harder. Steve took a breath.

“Give us a visual, Jarvis.” Tony said. “I’m willing to bet money that he just picked us up on some sort of short-range sensor. He might’ve had a couple of minutes at most. Not ideal, but we’ll be good, won’t we …”

The visual came.

“... Jesus Christ. I thought we were fighting a mutant supervillain, not some Japanese mecha.” Tony’s face paled slightly.

In front of them was no visible sign of Magneto himself, nor any of the facilities of the base itself, but a colossal metallic humanoid form, floating in the air about a hundred feet above the bare rock of the island. Its fingers reached out towards the Avengers, and massive spines of metal shot out at the Quinjet, far too fast for the plane to dodge and sliced off the wings.

Steve’s face set. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t. It didn’t matter now. They were spiralling out of control. There was only one thing left to do at this point. “All right, let’s take the fight to him. Avengers, assemble!”

It was accomplished swiftly, the escape pods getting Natasha and Clint out of the way onto the island, Steve himself being carried to the site by Tony. Hank had already hit the ground, using his Giant Man powers to grow himself to similar size to Magneto’s metallic monstrosity and Janet could safely flit her way into any chink in Magneto’s armour. As for Thor, he was already on his way, hurtling towards Magneto at supersonic speeds, his hammer striking the metallic hulk, going right through it.

If it looked for a second like a triumph, that thought was immediately ended by the neat sealing of the impact wound. There’s no circuitry to damage, is there? It’s just him and his powers. Steve realized that what they needed was a plan to get inside to wherever Magneto was. If one could somehow get to the man himself, he had no superhuman endurance. But the flying monstrosity already had Hank in a stranglehold.

“Tony, backup. Get Hank out of there. Thor, listen to me, we’ve got to get inside. Get in and stay in there. Take Magneto out, quickly.” Steve took another look at the situation. Tony had flown in and blasted enough of the monstrosity’s arm off for Hank to escape. Thor went over to press the attack, but this time, the monstrosity was able to swat him away. We need to attack him all at once. He’s only one man, for all his power.

Then something happened that half made his heart stop. Tony suddenly stopped moving as the metallic monstrosity made a closed fist gesture, which suddenly and violently opened, stripping off every bit of Tony’s armor as if it was made out of tissue paper. Oh God, no. Thor thankfully noticed the situation right away and was able to swoop in to save Tony before he hit the water. How could that happen? With Iron Man neutralized, he realized that they were in a very difficult situation. Thor’s the heaviest gun we have left. The only one who might be able to do something about Magneto.

Secondary Brotherhood Base, Northeast US:

“Momma, you okay?” Rogue asked as she settled down next to her. “I brought you some coffee and some cookies.”

“Thank you.” Raven replied. “I hate this. I feel so fucking useless. I should be out there. We should be out there.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rogue sighed. “... Momma? You really love him, don’t you?”

Raven nodded. “It’s insane, I know. But yes, I, I think I do.” She looked over at Rogue. “You’re not upset about that, are you?” It wasn’t testy or exasperated at all. It was plain that Raven really cared about the answer.

“I wish you and Mom could be together, but I know that’s not happening. And Mom made peace with that a long time ago, so I guess I should too.” Rogue sighed. “I wish she was here right now. I just have this awful feeling. We should go see her soon.”

“Last I heard, she was fine, keeping herself busy with the garden. And we both know this isn’t the sort of life she’s interested in.” Raven took her coffee and took a long drink of it, not caring if it was nearly scalding hot. “You know I love her too, right? Maybe not the way you’d like, but deeply. I raised you with her. We’ll always have that.”

Rogue nodded and took a sip of her tea. “I hate waiting around too.”

Raven took another drink of her coffee and looked over at Rogue. “So … Kayla.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Friends? More? What’s the deal there?”

Rogue took a deep breath. “I don’t know. She has feelings for me, but I don’t share them. Not like she does.”

“Awkward.” Raven noted. “I knew she had a thing for you, but yeah, I haven’t ever really got the vibe that you were into girls. Trust me, your Momma knows that stuff. I’m every damn orientation that exists.”

“... yeah, I’m boring.” Rogue smirked.

“Please tell me you’re not into any of the knuckle-draggers around here.” Raven sighed. “Not much of a selection, I’m afraid. Revolutionaries can’t always be choosers.”

“Ew, god no.” Rogue wrinkled her nose slightly. “Besides, it’s not really a thing. With my powers and all.” She shrugged. “... can we talk about something else?”

“I ever tell you about that one time in Budapest?” Raven smiled faintly, sipping her coffee.

“Forty thousand damn times. But it’s a good story.” Rogue grinned right back.

“Yeah, well, you probably never heard the part about Captain America ....”

Hellfire Club Facility, Midwestern United States:

“I have already told you gentlemen, I do not need the escort.” Irene sighed. “Yes, you might think I’m blind, but I’m really not. I can see the shapes of the corridor. And I’m hardly going to run away.” She strode down the corridor into a room that her sixth sense told her was unusually bright, though she couldn’t actually see it.

“The Doctor’s going to be in to see you shortly. He’s been waiting for you.” One of the guards said and it was hard to tell if he was trying to be ominous or strangely sympathetic.

Doctor? I wasn’t supposed to meet a doctor. No one extraordinary.

A few moments later, she heard soft footsteps down the corridor and the door click open. The guards were visibly on edge and quickly left the room, leaving her and the Doctor alone. Why can’t I see him? She could hear him, sense that he was there, but she saw no face in her mind. That was, until he spoke and revealed himself.

“Hello Irene.”

Oh God, no. Her heart started hammering and for the first time in a very long while, Irene Adler felt fear welling up in her heart. Not him. Not again. She remembered the long, thin fingers prodding at her. The cruelly sophisticated voice. His devices, working at her, changing her, blinding her so she would develop her future-sight more strongly. “You … you died. Raven killed you.”

The Doctor laughed lowly. “Oh, I’m afraid not. Killing me is a very, very difficult task.” She heard the snap of gloves being put on. “Sebastian has given me the task of mining your brain for the secrets within. I could simply delve into your mind telepathically, but where’s the fun in that, really? I’ve time, and I’ve so missed the sound of your voice.” She felt her muscles go limp and restraints locking into place.

Former Brotherhood Base:

Thor could see that they were losing the battle thus far. Several of their number had already been neutralized or taken out, though he could say one thing about Magneto- he’d made no move to finish off the wounded or incapacitated Avengers on the ruined island. Perhaps this villain has a shred of decency. He himself had managed to avoid serious injury, but neither had he succeeded in doing any major harm to the colossal metallic monstrosity before them.

But there was no surrendering, no retreating. Thor knew that they needed to win this day, lest the mutant realize his dark dreams of world domination. He gripped Mjolnir as hard as he could and moved to attack the monstrosity again, but this time, he aimed to break the metallic armor, to shatter it and get at the man within. It would be hard, considering the man’s power, but no armour forged by any man could resist his hammer.

“For Asgard and for Earth!” Thor roared as he lunged towards Magneto, aiming the hammer squarely at the creature’s chest, satisfied as a huge chunk of it smashed in. The metallic giant lurched unsteadily, and Thor pressed his advantage, summoning all the power of the howling storm and directing a colossal lightning bolt at Magneto. Hopefully it will not slay the man. However, Thor understood that he could no longer hold back.

The lightning coursed all around the giant and then, with a wide gesture of its arms, the electrical energy was released in a huge arc around it. Thor didn’t take the time to even register dismay, instead launching himself at the small hole inside the armour before it knit shut. There, for the first time, he saw Magneto himself, directing the movements of the giant with his own.

“Today is the day you fall!” Thor cried as he swung his hammer up towards Magneto’s shield, making it bend in towards Magneto, but to Thor’s shock, the shield held and his hammer came hurtling back. Magneto’s lip curled slightly and suddenly, the colossus split apart into a singular weight which hurtled at him from above.

On the Island:

Steve knew that if Thor couldn’t recover from that blow and continue fighting, they were as good as defeated. There weren’t many of them left, but he noticed that the colossus had fallen aside. And he was fairly sure that Magneto looked visibly fatigued. He didn’t waste a moment and simply threw his shield, as hard as he could, hoping, praying that somehow it would connect.

Magneto turned around to deflect the shield, but it was totally unresponsive to his commands and instead he was hit squarely with it, his shield flickering out of being as he began to fall. He wasn’t far enough up for the fall to kill him, but Steve was sure it wouldn’t be pleasant. Steve reached up to retrieve his shield as it came back to him. He couldn’t see where Magneto had fallen. I don’t like that, not one bit.

The Master of Magnetism came back over, soaked to the bone and controlling numerous tendrils of metal, which moved like tentacles at his will. Buzzing electric energy coursed through all of them, which immediately reached out to envelop him. Steve managed to roll to the side, aiming his shield at Magneto again. He looks like he’s been hurt. And tired, too. Perhaps that stunt with the metallic monstrosity has drained him. This time, however, Magneto managed to evade the shield and it came back to him without hitting its mark.

He had little time to consider it however, as he had to hastily use his shield to cut through one of the tendrils coming towards him, only to feel the cold grasp of steel on his legs. He tried to jerk away, but the power animating them was far greater than his own. He felt tendril after tendril wrapping around him. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t get free.

“You can’t win, Magneto. Not in the long run. You can’t fight an entire species.” Steve called out, in a clear voice. “All you’re doing is making it harder for innocent mutants. Give yourself in. And maybe we can start healing.”

Magneto’s lip curled faintly. “I cannot win? Haven’t I proven otherwise? Where are your Avengers, Captain? Alive on my sufferance.” He looked at Steve for a moment. “You will have your lives. Oppose me again and you may not be so lucky.”

Steve stared at Magneto for a moment and then he remembered. He’d seen those eyes before, long long ago, in a Nazi research facility not far outside of Auschwitz. There a thin young man, just about eighteen, had stared into his eyes. “... Max?” That was his name. That was Max. This is what he became?

“Do not call me by that name, Captain.” Magneto replied archly. “I am Magneto now. I am no longer Jew or German nor human. I am a mutant, and only that.”

It was then that Steve felt the shocking, electric pain course through him and then, only darkness.

American News Network Studio:

“Ladies and gentlemen, the footage you are about to see may be disturbing to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.” Trish paused for a moment. “We have received video footage from an unknown source showing the mutant supervillain Magneto battling the Avengers, and by all appearances, defeating them. We’re going to roll the footage first and then we are going to get commentary from our guests, Dr. Charles Xavier, mutant rights activist and author of Crisis of Humanity and Mr. Graydon Creed, leader of the Friends of Humanity.”

Trish didn’t want to watch it either. It was clear from the footage that the Avengers put up a heroic struggle, but in the end, were overpowered by an enemy who seemed to have virtually no limits to his power. She watched her guests react for a moment. Creed looked like he was analyzing stock footage for a report in film school. Certainly, he was pretending to show sadness but it was clearly feigned. Charles on the other hand, looked truly pained to watch it, though he never once looked away. He’s making himself watch.

“Charles, I can tell you’re upset. Can I ask, before we start into the discussion proper, what is going through the heads of both you gentlemen?” Trish asked.

“We have an appalling and tragic situation.” Charles replied before taking a breath. “One can only hope that Magneto adheres to his typical stance of clemency towards defeated foes. I don’t think Mr. Creed and I can agree on much, but we can both agree that this is a dire emergency that needs resolving, immediately.”

“Appalling and tragic situation? We’ve got a madman who’s declared war on our entire species. A terrorist. And let’s not forget that he’s not a lone actor. There are dozens of mutants who have openly joined him, and hundreds more that sympathize with him. Every time this terrorist does something, mutants don’t try to stop him, they line up to join him!”

“Magneto was apprehended by a mutant superhero team the last time.” Charles reminded Creed, though he dared not go into too many details. “There is a problem with sympathy for the Brotherhood in Mutant Town, but most of that stems from a horrific record of civic negligence and discrimination from authorities. Let’s not forget that the mutant riot started after a homeless shelter was burned by the ground and two dozen men, women and children slain. A massacre, and one of the worst in American history. For which there have been no trials, no convictions, not even any arrests.”

“And what would you have us do, Dr. Xavier? Spend our hard-earned civic, state and federal tax dollars on a community that represents a grave national security risk? This isn’t similar to the situation with Islamism- Muslims cannot read minds or knock down buildings by looking at them. Mutants are dangerous by their very nature and we need to act accordingly. Some people criticize Americans for carrying weapons, and say we should limit them. Well I submit to you that mutants are weapons.”

“If mutants are weapons, aren’t they protected under the Second Amendment?” Charles asked, to the amusement of the studio audience. “Most of these mutants you talk about are American citizens who have committed no crime. Would you deny mutants civic and human rights, Mr. Creed? Do you believe that is the answer?”

“Mutants cannot be considered the same as humans. Can humans turn into metal or walk through walls? Can they read minds or control fire with their minds? They cannot. And frankly, mutants represent an existential threat to our species. We ignore the mutant menace at the peril of our own extinction.” Creed took a sip of his coffee. “Mutants put us in more danger than you can imagine. Our children are relying on us to provide them protection against mutants.”

“Some of your children are mutants.” Charles pointed out, and then looked at the audience for a moment. “Your children. Your sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews, coworkers.” He turned back to Creed. “You haven’t answered the question clearly. Would you deny mutants civic and human rights?”

Creed took a breath. Trish found it hard not to smile slightly. Xavier had very efficiently got him into a very difficult position. Surely, nobody in the mainstream would touch the guy if he answered in the affirmative and his own organization would pillory him if he weaselled out of it.

“Yes.” Creed replied without any hesitation. “I would do anything to protect humanity.”

“Mutants are a part of humanity.” Charles countered. “We need to devise a short-term solution to the danger that Magneto poses, absolutely. But in the long term, mutant issues are social problems not security ones.”

The exchange continued on for awhile. Trish felt fairly confident that Charles was winning it, but she also realized that tensions were probably running hot. Creed would have his constituency and she feared that it would be growing. And here I am, having to pretend to be objective. To give a sense of balance to something that’s really rather simple.

SHIELD Headquarters:

“General Fury, you had best explain yourself.” Gyrich snapped, as if he were addressing one of his underlings. Fury wanted to knock his teeth out, but the last thing he needed was to be sacked.

“You’ve been given the report. Fortunately, all of the Avengers have been returned to us. You’ll be glad to know that all of them should recover over the next few weeks.” Fury glared right back at Gyrich. “We acted on the best intelligence available. If there’s been any compromise in our security, we’ll find it.”

“... if? If? You have two of his goddamn children on the team! You shouldn’t have any mutants at all on the Avengers, given the situation, but his children?” Gyrich thundered, stabbing his finger into Fury’s chest. “They should be arrested immediately! I should be thinking about having you arrested for harbouring them!”

Fury took Gyrich’s hand and moved it away from him, his one eye staring balefully at Gyrich. “I will do what I have to. This isn’t your domain, Gyrich.”

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Fury.” Gyrich warned, but he was cut off.

“Shit in a silk suit.” Fury replied with a sudden calm, taking out a cigar and lighting it. “Brave men and women nearly got themselves killed protecting their country and global security and you’re pissing on them for political points. We are investigating. You aren’t entitled to any of the damn details.”

Gyrich was shaking visibly with impotent rage, but Fury continued calmly smoking his cigar, as if oblivious to the other man’s feelings. He finally gathered himself slightly, trying to puff himself and look frightening. Fury took a deep puff of his cigar. It wouldn’t do to laugh openly, however tempting that thought was.

“You’re making a huge mistake, Fury. I know powerful people in Washington.” Gyrich finally fumed. “And besides, your precious Avengers failed. Failed miserably. And all the world knows it now.”

Fury took out the cigar and puffed the smoke from it right into Gyrich’s face. “You say one more word about the Avengers and I am going to make you eat this cigar. Am I making myself clear?”

“Don’t threaten me, Fury.” Gyrich replied, but his pride was visibly shaken.

“That’s a promise, Gyrich. You best remember that in your report.” Fury took another puff of his cigar. “Now get out of my damn office. I have actual work to do.”

Brotherhood Compound, Northeastern US:

Magneto winced as the Healer examined him. Once the adrenaline of the battle had worn off, he had been beset by a thousand aches and pains. Controlling the gigantic metal construct had been a serious burden on him, and besides that, he had numerous bruises from being shook up inside of it when Thor had attacked him. More seriously, he had fractured ribs from when Captain America’s shield had struck him.

“I can speed your healing, but I must advise against any heavy activity in the next few weeks.” The Healer said quietly as he held his hands over Magneto.

“Heal me as best you can and your Morlocks shall receive the assistance they need.” Magneto replied through a hissed breath. “What I do after that is mine to decide.” He couldn’t afford to simply wait for two or three weeks. He’d lose all the momentum he’d gathered.

The Healer looked like he was going to insist, but instead quietly nodded and went on his business. When it was all over Magneto could feel that his ribs had healed, but he still generally felt horrid. What should I expect? I fought the Avengers singlehandedly. Defeated every single one of them.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by Raven fairly bursting into the room. The next thing he knew, he was caught up in a passionate kiss that left him breathless.

“... Raven.” Magneto couldn’t help but smile, pulling her closer to him.

“Hey, honeybunch.” Raven sighed, kissing him again, more softly this time. He could vaguely perceive that the Healer was quietly leaving the room. “You did it.” Raven’s face broke into a grin. “You beat the Avengers. All of them. It was … I had no idea you could do that. You looked like a god out there. A fucking god.” Her hands trailed down the bandages on his chest, frowning slightly. “Bad?” She looked at him.

“Nothing the Healer couldn’t manage to fix.” Magneto replied. “A day or two of rest and I should be able to advance my plans. How long before your strike team is ready to attack Washington?”

“No more than a week.” Raven replied. “They’re not used to operating in any sort of team, but they’re sorting it out.” She moved to straddle his lap, kissing him again. “We can talk about business later.” Her hands reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Right now, I’m fully at your disposal, milord.” She laughed.

“... a hot bath and a massage?” Magneto asked hopefully, kissing her again. “And after that, well, as you said, we can deal with business tomorrow. I could do with a little celebration.”

“After whooping the ass of the world’s most powerful superhero team like that? Oh hell yes.” Raven grinned incandescently and kissed him again, nudging him gently down onto the examining table.

TV Room, Xavier Institute:

The TV footage of Magneto’s battle with the Avengers ended abruptly when Logan stood up suddenly, just as Captain America was being electrocuted by Magneto, and drove his fist straight through the television, claws first, disregarding any cuts on his hands that resulted and stomped out. He was thinly aware of some of the others saying something to him, but he didn’t care.

We should have been there. He popped his claws again and hacked viciously at a tree, slicing a colossal gash in it. With a roar of anger, he kicked at it as hard as he could, making it topple over. His memories were never completely clear, but he knew that he’d fought with Steve, that Steve had once called him a friend. He remembered that Captain America was the real deal, a hero like none of these other cheap punks. He deserved better than that.

“I understand your anger, but do not take it out on nature.” Ororo implored, settling down near to him. “We’re all upset, Logan. And we will figure out what to do, together.”

“Too damn slow, `Ro. Too damn slow. Because what’s this outfit being led by? Charlie and his pet Boy Scout. Look, I got as much respect for Charlie as anybody, but he’s not a warrior and you know that. And Scott? He’s a kid, nothing but a fucking kid.” His claws sheathed, however, and he took out a cigar. “Damn it all. What the hell? Why aren’t we going after Magneto right now? Right this goddamn minute?”

“Because doing so would be suicide.” Ororo replied calmly, though her tone was tight. “Do not malign Scott because you feel guilty. We need to work together, become a better team. Or we’ll end up the same or worse.”

“So what do you want me to do now? While we do whatever the hell is gonna make us a better team?” Logan growled, though he wasn’t really mad at Ororo, or deep down, any of the other X-Men.

“Offer to buy a new television.” Ororo looked evenly at him. “And then share your feelings with the others.”

“Thought you said going after Magneto would be suicide.” Logan observed dryly.

“I did, and perhaps I’m wrong. What matters is that I’m willing to open up to others. You need to do the same.” Ororo reached over to him and set a hand on his shoulder.

Logan sighed. “Dammit, `Ro, why don’t you become leader?”

Ororo couldn’t help but smile thinly. “What? And ruin my good standing with everyone else?”

“Heh. Nobody could ever hate you, `Ro.” Logan actually smiled thinly.

Ororo smiled right back. “Well, thank you.” She bent down to kiss his cheek. “Take a few minutes to relax before coming back to talk to the others. We understand, Logan, we really do. You have friends, a family here, if you want it.”

“... yeah.” Logan replied. Maybe I do.

Xavier Institute Chapel:

“... and please give your healing to the Avengers, so they may recover soon. And please, to open Magneto’s heart so he can understand that his hatred only increases the pain and suffering in the world. Thank you, Lord, for listening to me. Amen.” Kurt finished, though he remained quietly for a moment, contemplating it all. So much anger and hatred and pain. Why must everything be so difficult? God, why?

“Oh. I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Kitty almost mumbled quietly. “I can come back.”

Kurt turned towards her. “You don’t have to go. It is quite all right. I just … sometimes, I find that when I can’t handle something myself, I need to ask for help.” He pointed vaguely upwards.

Kitty nodded. “I was … maybe coming to do the same.” She sat down beside him. “Though my prayers are … a lot less thoughtful and a lot angrier.” It felt horrible to say it, but it was the truth. She was so angry with God that it was difficult to put into words. “I feel like such a lousy Jew sometimes.”

“Katzchen, don’t feel bad.” Kurt put a hand on her shoulder. “Anger is natural. What happened was horrible. What it suggests for the future is troubling to say the least. It is difficult for us to understand why things happen. I do not think that God is going to begrudge us a little anger in times like these.”

“... I’m angry a lot, Kurt.” She sighed.

“You’re angry because you’re passionate and idealistic. And you turn your anger to changing the world for the better.” Kurt smiled slightly. “I get angry too, more than I’d like to.”

“We have to do something about this. We’re heroes too, and we can’t just let Magneto get away with this. We can’t let him become the face of mutants. It’d be like …”

“... Hitler becoming the face for all Germans?” Kurt said quietly.

“Yeah.” Kitty replied, her voice tense. “I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.” She sighed. “I don’t really want to pray right now, either. Don’t think God wants to hear ten minutes of me swearing at him.”

“Do you remember that ridiculous pirate program we used to play in the Danger Room?” Kurt asked, looking towards her. Maybe a little distraction would do us all good.

“... yeah.” Kitty replied with the faintest of smiles. “You think it’s still on there?”

“I know it is.” Kurt smiled more broadly. “What do you say? I think it’s been far too long since we sailed the seven seas.”

In the Mailbox, Xavier Institute:

Dear Scott,

I don’t know quite how to say all of this. There has been so much that has happened in the last few months, to you, to me, to the world. You’re becoming such a great leader and I know that the X-Men are in good hands. I wish that I could be at your side, I really do. But I can’t forget the past.

I need to take some time, to find myself again, to come to grips with everything. I’m going away for a while. Please don’t go after me. I need to do this by myself, I need to rediscover myself. I don’t know where I’m going, when I’ll be back, even if I’ll be back.

I love you, I love you so much, but I can’t chain you down, either. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, I don’t know if I’ll be back. Maybe one day when this is all over, we can find each other again, but right now, I think we need to find ourselves. I can’t keep you bound to a promise I don’t know if I can keep, so I’m setting you free.

I want you to be happy. I’m sorry, but I need to do this. Please, please if you find a chance to be happy, take it.

Love, Jean

Chapter Text

ICT Room #2, Xavier Institute:

I can do this. God, it’s ICT. I know this stuff backwards and forwards and inside out. I have a degree saying I’m really, really good with this stuff. I have another degree saying that I’m qualified to teach people how to be really, really good at it too.

Mr. Wilkins, the school’s ICT teacher, had been sent on prolonged health leave- complications of diabetes, Kitty had been told. It wasn’t entirely a surprise when the Professor had called her into his office to discuss taking the reins for a little while. She figured that, most likely, she would be asked to cover a week or two while the Professor cast around for a new teacher. It had barely even dawned on her that he’d offer her the job, straight up. Before she even knew it, she’d gone out the door with a signed contract.

And just like that, I became a teacher.

She wouldn’t have any classes until this afternoon- Mr. Wilkins had, in many ways, an enviable schedule- no Monday mornings and no Friday afternoons. But she found herself in the room, just sitting there, trying to think of how she was going to proceed with her own classes. Fortunately, as the Professor also ran the university, she could get her Masters’ work rescheduled appropriately to her new professional responsibilities.

And now ‘Kitty’ is going to formally become ‘Ms. Pryde’ to the entire student body. That’ll take awhile to unlearn.

She opened up the staff folder on the computer and started going over all the regulations of the school, yet again. Kitty also clicked onto her lesson plan. I can fight off fanatical mutant terrorists. I can teach a computer science lesson. She wondered who else the Professor was going to start hoodwinking into teaching positions.

Xavier’s Office:

“... it is very flattering, Professor, but don’t I need more formal teacher training?” Piotr asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked over the papers.

“Eventually, yes, but right now, more than anything, I need someone who actually knows something about art to teach it.” Charles replied. “I’ve seen you interact with the students before, and you’re a popular figure around campus.” He smiled a bit wryly. “No doubt you’re aware that I’ve also hired Kitty. I intend to have teaching placements for several of you. You all have valuable skills that you could pass on to young people. And, significantly, you are also people I can trust.”

Piotr nodded at that. “Well, I can give it a try, Professor. If you truly believe I am up to this. I can paint, yes, and draw, and I can probably learn a bit about other forms of art, but it is one thing to create art and another to teach about it.”

Xavier nodded. “Oh, of course. And I do not expect mastery to begin with. Teaching, Piotr, is a journey. One never stops improving, no matter how far one progresses in their work. The students like you. And well, the rowdier boys are bit less likely to give you a hard time.” He chuckled faintly. “You’re rather larger than their last teacher.”

"I do not think any of them are scared of me, Professor.” Piotr replied with a faint smile. “It is too well-known that I am actually terribly unlikely to tear their arms off. Why, I haven’t done it once.”

Charles actually chuckled at that. “Please continue not doing that. The Education Board gets amazingly difficult. You have no idea.” He pushed the paper and pen slightly towards Piotr.

Piotr picked up the pen and signed on all the necessary spots. “So … I suppose then, I had best start on some lesson plans.”

Charles nodded. “Indeed, you should.”

Xavier Institute:

“... Scott?” Bobby asked, knocking on the door. Maybe he was just moving furniture and dropped something. It’s not like him to smash stuff. “Hey Scotty, are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine.” Scott replied in a tense, angry tone of voice. “Just leave me alone.”

Right. Now I know you’re not okay, because if you were actually okay, you’d be doing productive things instead of sitting in your room. “Whoa, whoa, don’t bite off my head, I was just asking because you weren’t there for Danger Room training. Which is super unusual for you. In fact, I can’t remember it ever happening. So … I know that you know that I know that the idea that you’re okay? Total BS, Scott. C’mon, we’ve been friends for ages, let’s talk about it.” Bobby put his hand on the door, ready to come in. And if it was locked, well, he could just go in the window. Or get Kitty to phase him through the door. They had ways of doing that.

Finally, after an unbearable moment of silence, the door opened a crack. Bobby could immediately tell that Scott was doing very, very badly. It’d only been earlier today that whatever had happened had happened, so he couldn’t get too dishevelled, but it was clear from the pallid and worn, yet angry look on his face that something was seriously wrong.

“Jean’s gone, Bobby. I got the letter. She’s going away, without me. How the hell do you think I’m feeling?” Scott asked, his voice razor sharp. He wiped vaguely at his eyes.

Bobby could scarcely believe what he heard. No, that’s not right at all. Jean and Scott are supposed to be like, the ultimate mutant power couple. “Oh my god, Scott, I’m so sorry.” Bobby finally said, probably sounding a bit shell-shocked.

“Yeah.” Scott replied distantly. “I’m sorry I missed the training today.”

“Oh that’s okay, I was like fifteen minutes late anyway. Pfft, only a couple of keeners are going to get annoyed over a little bit less time in there. Which basically means Kitty and Betsy, because you know, apparently our new girl members are a little masochistic?” Bobby stopped himself and sighed. “You want to go out and get a beer or something? Kick my ass at pool, like you always do?”

Scott shook his head. “Thanks, but … I wouldn’t be good company right now.”

“Well, my phone’s open if you want to shoot me a text changing your mind. Or you know me, I’ll be playing video games.” Bobby offered Scott the best smile he could scrounge up. “You take time if you need to, but if you need anything, I’m here, right, bro?”

Scott nodded. “Thanks.” He managed to say without a great deal of emotion before closing the door.

What the hell? Bobby shook his head. It didn’t make sense. He wondered if maybe he’d missed seeing trouble between them when he was head down in books. If maybe he’d let his friends down that way too. Bobby took a breath, walked down the hallway far enough that Scott couldn’t hear him and did what he always did when he was stuck and had no idea what to do.

He called Hank.

Miami, Florida:

“... I think we lost them.” Pedro finally gasped out as he looked over to Tianna. He went to pick up the phone to dial the police. He was fairly sure they didn’t know where they were living, but he couldn’t be certain of it. “Maybe we should find somewhere to stay for a few days.”

Tianna nodded, cat-like eyes wide with terror. “Do you think they’re like the people in New York? The Purifiers?” She shivered. “We haven’t done anything to anyone.”

"Wouldn’t matter with them.” Pedro shook his head, dialling the number now that he had his breath. “Yes, there were armed men after me and my girlfriend. I don’t know why, officer, we’re at-” His speech was immediately cut off as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Tianna screamed, her own scream similarly cut off by a tranquilizer dart fired at her neck.

“... what do we have here?” One of the Genoshan mutant hunters asked himself as he started a bio-scan of the two. “Mutants, both of them. The female has enhanced physical abilities and senses- feral mutation. The man has some sort of energy-based powers, moderate-level. They should be worthwhile acquisitions. Better than the last lot.”

“Anyone going to miss these people?” The other mutant hunter asked, bending over them.

The first one rifled through the information in their wallets quickly before answering. “Doubt it. They’re nobodies.” He patched in to the squad leader. “We’d better take them quick, before the police arrive. The last thing we need is an incident with them.”

As sirens could be heard in the distance, the mutant hunters quickly took their quarry into their vehicle and disappeared with them. The tranquilizers, judiciously administered, would keep them under until they were well on their way to Genosha. There, they could be fitted with collars and put to work on whatever detail best suited their abilities. That was, if they were lucky.

If they were unfortunate, they’d end up in the pens with the Genengineer, as experimental fodder for whatever control protocol he wanted to test next. If they were really unfortunate, they’d be handed over to the Sugar Man directly. The mutant hunter shivered slightly. Even muties probably deserved better than to be handed over to that monster. Sometimes you have to work with one devil to keep the other down.

The White House:

“Authorities continue to deny the persistent rumours that the Purifiers are abducting and killing mutants across the country. However, the recent rash of disappearances begs the question- if the Purifiers are not responsible, then who is?” The televised image and voice of Trish Tilby was shut off immediately thereafter.

The President turned around to look at the coterie of advisers around him. “American citizens are disappearing. We’ve got the case in Miami, another in Chicago, one in the rural South and another in Portland. I want to figure out what the hell is happening, and I want something done about it.”

Gyrich paused for a moment. “I don’t disagree sir, but there’s no need to panic the general population. All the disappearances have been mutants.”

The President’s face reddened visibly. “Get out.” He stood up and yelled at the assembled group. “Get out of my damn office, now. All of you, and don’t come back until you have something useful.” The entire group got up to leave.

The President looked over to Tessa. “Not you.” He gestured for her to sit down. “You can stay.”

Tessa nodded crisply and sat back down. “Yes, Mr. President?”

“You’ve got a lot of skills that I don’t use on a regular basis, don’t you?” The President asked her, his tone dropping slightly.

“Yes, Mr. President.” Tessa replied evenly. “What is it you need me to do?”

The President took a deep breath. “I want you to find out who has been taking these people. It’s all linked, whoever it is. I want you to find proof. Don’t kill anyone, but other than that, whatever it takes, whatever you can do. You take that directly to me, nobody else. And if you fail? I had no knowledge of this. Do you understand?”

“Crystal clear.” Tessa actually smiled thinly. “Do I have a deadline for this little mission of yours?”

“Three days. I have a press conference about the mutant issue and I want to address this there.” He looked over at Tessa and sighed, reaching over to pour himself a drink. “You’re right, you know. The wolves are at the door.” He swirled it around for a moment before taking a drink. “.. Shaw had you do work like that, didn’t he?” He paused. “I suppose I should say, doesn’t he?”

“I do whatever he asks me to do, and I have the skillset to do anything he asks.” She looked over at the President, sapphire-blue eyes locking with his. “I would never betray Sebastian, ever. However, with that sole caveat, my skills are at your disposal, Mr. President. We have shared interests.” Her gaze didn’t waver at all from his. “Let me help you, with your real problems. Any that you may have.”

The President finished his drink in one long go. From nearly any other woman, he would’ve interpreted that as a come-on of some sort. And let’s be honest, a part of you wishes it was. Admit it, you want to kiss those red-red lips until she’s breathless. He tried his best to get that thought of his head. He turned his gaze back at her, as sternly as he could. “That could be a hell of a job, Tessa. I have a lot of problems. But right now, I want to find the sons of bitches who think they can kidnap American citizens with impunity. I want to find them and I want to make them suffer for it. Do that for me, Tessa. Find those motherfuckers.”  

Brotherhood Base:

Raven slammed the door shut, looking through the armory of the Brotherhood base. Some bastard took her. Irene. I am going to find them and make them wish they had never been born. She took and packed several gleaming knives, including a specially made adamantium blade that Magneto had spent hours crafting for her. Raven was certain that it would see a lot of use.

She turned behind her to see Rogue standing behind her with a determined scowl on her face. “You’re not leaving me behind this time. This is my Mom, I’m going with you.”

Raven turned towards her. “You know that I’m not just planning to rescue her, right? I’m going to kill the people who did that.”

“Don’t you think that I want to do that too? But right now, we need to find Mom and bring her safely home. That’s what we need to do, rather than worryin’ about adamantium knives and high-powered guns.” Rogue’s hands balled up into fists. “We should just hurry up and go.”

Raven glared at her for a moment and then sighed. “Stop being so damn wise beyond your years. Sometimes it’s like ... “ She shook her head. “You’re right. Let’s just go and get her back, safe.” I can hunt them down like animals later. And believe me, I will.

Magneto’s Sanctum:

“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting the visit so soon.” Magneto said, offering his guest a seat. “Please, do sit down.”

Wanda hesitantly went over to sit next to her father. “They do not trust me anymore. There is no place for me there.” She sighed. “I see that you returned them, mostly unharmed.”

Magneto nodded. “The Avengers were only my enemies out of happenstance. I do not bear any of them hatred.” He looked at his daughter for a long moment. “I know you placed a lot of hope on the Avengers, but you’re right. There is no place for you there. Nor for any mutant in a human institution. We need to build something for ourselves, that is our own.”

“Genosha.” Wanda finished what she assumed was his thought. “You want to build a mutant state on Genosha.” She took a breath. “Do you really think you can do that? It takes more than brute power to create something that will last.”

Magneto nodded. “It will. But it will be good to turn myself towards building something better rather than simply tearing down the old. Wanda, join me in this. I know I was not the best father to you and Pietro.” He frowned slightly. “I know that I cannot ever truly make amends for that, but please, for the sake of our people, find forgiveness in your heart and join me in building a glorious future for all mutants.” He reached out his hand.

Wanda looked at him for a moment, green eyes every bit as intense locking into his. “You were not a good father to Pietro and I, not at all.” She glared at him for a moment before sighing. “But … we need to put the past aside and focus on what is right for our people. Genosha is a slave state, and the rest of the world has let it exist for too long. I will join you, in building this new order.” She looked at his outstretched hand. “But do not expect me to be your doting daughter. That is a privilege that must be earned.”

Magneto looked disappointed, even hurt for a moment and then nodded. “Of course. Still, it is good to have you by my side once again. I can only hope that Pietro also sees that. It must be difficult parting from your brother.”

“... we can only hope.” Wanda replied, though in her heart, she doubted it. “In the meantime, what is your plan regarding Genosha?”

“Listen closely, Wanda …” Magneto began, lowering his voice.

Benetech Corporate Headquarters:

“Bastion, what an unexpected pleasure.” Graydon Creed grinned as he reached out to shake the older man’s hand. Bastion, however, remained stonily in place, dismissing his guards and fixing Creed with a glare that made him feel like he was a little boy again.

“You idiot.” Bastion said after a long moment. “You let yourself get played by Charles Xavier on live television. And immediately thereafter, Xavier was able to appear on the Daily Show and continue to make you a national laughingstock.” A thin finger poked hard into Creed’s chest. “Security. We’re talking about security. Keep the racialist doctrine for the Friends of Humanities rallies. The public isn’t ready to write off mutants as subhuman. We need to groom them carefully, not force them to deny any interest in our positions.”

Creed’s hands balled up into fists. How dare anyone take him apart like this? He was Graydon Creed, a man who had crawled out of a literal and figurative swamp to make himself a billionaire, and become the political leader of the world’s largest human-defence organization. Bastion, however, remained completely impassive to his frustration.

“You’re puffing up like an angry child.” Bastion finally said with a sneer of contempt. “Perhaps I was wrong to place significant trust in you. Even Stryker knows how to speak to a mass audience.”

“... Xavier is a very manipulative man. I won’t fall for his tricks again.” Creed finally managed to say. “Everything is still on schedule. We’ll make all of this work, Bastion. And don’t forget that you need me. My company, my men, my resources. You should show me some respect. Who are you, anyway? Really? Some Frenchman with a dream. And I bought into you!”

“Not a dream. A vision. A plan. Dreams are for fools.” Bastion replied impassively. “I expect that you will change your rhetoric accordingly, and do not persist on trying to debate with Xavier head on. It’s far more efficient to sully him from the sidelines.” He put an hand on Creed’s shoulder, one that held with an iron grip that belied the man’s apparent age. “Your passion is a valuable thing, Graydon, but you mustn't let it get to your head. We need you to be smart as well as committed, yes?”

Creed nodded. “I won’t let the cause down, Bastion.”

Pierce Robotics, about an hour later:

“He’s right. Xavier is very good at convincing people to say what is suitable for him.” Pierce shrugged, though. “It does not make him look any less the fool, though.” He took a long sip of his wine. “Everything on my end is proceeding nicely. It shouldn’t be long before the six subjects can be fitted with the prototype Omega Sentinel technology.”

Bastion made only the slightest indication that he heard Pierce, his own glass largely untouched.

“... Bastion, may I ask you something?” Pierce said slowly, sipping his Sauvignon Blanc again.

“You may ask, of course. I cannot guarantee that I will reply.” Bastion finally replied, taking a drink of his own wine. “What is it, Donald?”

“Why do you hate mutants? We all have our reasons. Sometimes it’s social, other times it’s personal.” Donald swirled his wine around before taking another drink of it. “For me, it is personal, as you know.” Sebastian had used those gifts to simply stride in and take what had been owed him.

Bastion actually smiled slightly. “I don’t hate mutants at all. I actually find them impressive, admirable.” He looked towards Pierce. “Let me explain before your jaw hits the ground. Mutants are a dire threat, make no mistake. We need to neutralize the mutant threat in order to secure the future. They are our enemies, but not because they are all wicked or anything like what the Reverend says. It’s a simple matter of survival.”

“The human race versus the mutant race. I can understand that.” Pierce replied. “I doubt the Reverend would, though. Neither would Creed.”

“Yes … the human race.” Bastion’s faint smile curved into something subtler and far more dangerous. He raised his glass. “To the future, Donald Pierce, and to the true heirs of evolution.”

Xavier Institute, Botanical Garden:

“Hey chere.” Remy drawled out as he came across an absolutely gorgeous fille in the gardens. Tall, dark, exotically beautiful- he’d never seen a black woman with naturally white hair like that before- and were those blue eyes? They didn’t look like contacts. And god, she was statuesque. Maybe an inch shorter than him, fit, but with curves in all the right places … “Here I was thinkin’ I was lost, but maybe I found what I was looking for, no?”

Ororo turned around and simply looked at him for a moment like he was some sort of strange alien who’d transported into her world. “... you cannot expect me to fall for a pickup line like that.” She smirked faintly and before he knew it, a tiny raincloud had manifested above his head, gently sprinkling rain down on him. A perfectly miniaturized lightning bolt gave him a strong tingling sensation and he swore he could hear thunder, too.

“Hey, that’s not fair! Remy was just saying hello, and you make it rain on him?” Remy waved at the little cloud, which stubbornly remained in place for a few second longer before it dissipated, clearly on her command. “And I think it worked fine. Remy got your attention, didn’t he? Nice powers, by the way. You make bigger ones too?”

“Yes, I do.” Ororo replied, turning herself back to pruning some sort of hedge. Normally, Remy wouldn’t have been happy with someone turning their back on him, but when that somebody had an ass like that? He could make exceptions. However, soon, he was met with a rather less gentle cold breeze that forced him to stagger back and brace himself, lest he fall. “If you’re looking to catch my eye, acting like a civilized human being is a fine start. In any case, however, you are emphatically not my type.”

“See, I would’ve thought you might like the bad boys.” Remy replied with a grin, even though he’d been rained on and knocked aside by a wind. “Good boys would bore you, I think.”

Ororo turned towards him for a moment, raising her eyebrow. “Why are you here, Remy LeBeau? Truly?”

“... same as most other folks. I need help with my mutant powers.” Remy replied, not really expecting that. He was even less expecting her to grasp him by the front of his shirt. For a split second he thought maybe he’d made progress, but that stormy glare told him otherwise.

“Charles is a very trusting man, and a forgiving one.” Ororo glared at him. “It’s best for you to understand that I am not nearly so forgiving as he is. Do not abuse his trust, Remy. Or you’ll have worse than a little wet hair. Are we quite clear?”

“... we’re clear.” Remy replied, eyes unable not to widen a little. “Remy’s here to learn. An’, he’ll leave you alone too. Promise.”

“Good.” Ororo nodded. “Now, please leave. You’re ruining the harmony of this place.”

Beltway for Babies Gala Dinner, Washington DC:

The President hated charity dinners like this. It wasn’t that he had anything against most charities- certainly the Beltway for Babies charity had raised a lot of money to provide medical care and needed supplies for babies and mothers in the poorer districts of the DC area. But it was the inane ritual of making appearances, shaking hands, making nice with people he could scarcely stand.

I could be doing something important right now. It felt like the mutant business was taking all of his time these days, but he was getting hammered hard by Kelly on the polls on that issue. I still have to find time to manage an economic recovery and a coherent foreign policy. And I’m probably going to have to find time to jet off to Saudi Arabia to to homage to the damn King. At least the people at this gala weren’t all ultraconservative absolutist monarchs who wouldn’t even let women drive.

“Dear, relax. You’re looking like you’re going to punch out the waiter.” The First Lady chided him gently. “At least the food’s not bad tonight, right?”

“Sorry. I’ve just … I’ve got a lot on my mind. It’s hard to enjoy myself with everything that’s going on.” The President sighed and took a sip of his wine. “Food’s better than average, yes.”

The First Lady’s brow knit with concern. “It’s not those awful mutants again, is it? When I think of what Magneto did to the Avengers, it just, it’s just so awful.” She shook her head. “And there I go again. Some help I’m being.” She looked at him with a thin smile. “Maybe I can be more helpful later …” The President became aware of her hand drifting down to rest on his knee.

“... well, now I really want to leave this damn gala.” The President grinned back at her.

“You will, Mr. President. My apologies for interrupting you, but your phone was off and this is vitally important.” Tessa appeared out of virtually nowhere, impossibly, astonishingly ravishing in a snug, obviously custom-tailored black dress. “Mr. President, I did as you asked. The files are available in my office, unless you’d rather pick them up in the morning.”

The President realized vaguely that his wife was looking at him, and less than happily at that. Goddamit, though, I can’t leave this for later. I’ll clear up her jealousy later. Not that she’s completely wrong to be jealous. However, there were far more important issues. “... dear, this is vital state business. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go. Hopefully I’ll be back soon.” He made a point of going over to his wife and kissing her more soundly than normally he would. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t sort of want Tessa, but I do love my wife. She’s put up with me for thirty-five damn years.

He followed Tessa crisply to the office, where the documents were sitting on the desk. To his surprise, there was a third person in the room.

“I had to call in a favor of Sebastian’s to SHIELD. I hope you don’t mind too much.” Tessa said, before he could react to the familiar figure before him. “As it happens, Phil’s a college acquaintance of mine.”

“Mr. President, it’s an honor, really. Phil Coulson, I’m kind of Nick’s right hand man.” Phil Coulson extended his hand to shake, which the President did, firmly. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but I’m afraid Tessa and I have dug up some very, very disturbing news.”

“To make a long story short, Mr. President, the disappearances of mutants has been due to the operations of Genoshan mutant hunters on American soil. They’ve been operating in many other countries as well, though sometimes with the tacit agreement of the host country.” Tessa started in a deadpan tone, though there was an righteous anger in her eyes.

“Do you have proof?” The President asked, reddening visibly. “I can’t initiate military action without proof.”

“Mr. President, are you sure that’s … it’s not my call, but military action is a very drastic step.” Coulson cautioned. “Tessa’s the expert analyst, though.”

“It’s a dangerous move, in terms of geopolitics.” Tessa replied. “But knowing this, we cannot allow this action to go unpunished. No country can be allowed to interfere so egregiously with American citizens without retaliation. That is to say nothing about the moral dimension, in which innocent people are being kidnapped into slavery. Is that what you want, Mr. President? For America to turn a blind eye to the slave trade within its borders?”

The President nodded grimly. “I’ll get a special press conference for this. I want the bastards shamed publicly. I’ll contact the boys in the Navy to send one or two carrier attack groups off of Genosha. Nobody kidnaps American citizens like this and gets away with it. If they don’t give our people back, make proper restitution and beg for mercy, I am going to flatten that giant ugly palace.” He looked at Coulson. “I can count on SHIELD’s assistance with intelligence operations and interdiction on any slave hunters operating on our soil, yes?”

“Absolutely, Mr. President.” Coulson replied crisply.

Press Conference, Washington DC:

“Members of the press, thank you for coming here on short notice. My fellow Americans, I have dire news to tell you. Reputable information has come to me regarding the kidnapping of Americans from all over our country, and there is indisputable evidence linking those kidnappings to the heinous slave regime of the Republic of Genosha. I’ll say that again, because it bears repeating. The Republic of Genosha has been kidnapping American citizens and forcing them to work on mines and farms in the interior of the country.

There are those that suggest that because these American citizens happen to be mutants, that we shouldn’t worry about it, that we should turn a blind eye. To which I say that if we are to take ourselves seriously as the land of the free, we must oppose slavery and bondage anywhere it exists. We have our own shameful history of slavery in this land, the ghosts of the past will not rest easily knowing that we are ignoring this great evil because we are afraid or mistrustful of certain types of people.

To the government of the Republic of Genosha, let me be clear, this is not an evil that will be tolerated. I have already dispatched land, air and naval assets of the United States Armed Forces towards Genosha. What I am going to tell you is not a request, it is a demand. Unconditional compliance with these demands is the only way that you will be able to prevent war.

Firstly, all foreign citizens who have been kidnapped will be immediately freed and returned to their homes, with the Genoshan government paying all expenses, as well as paying out a sum of no less than five million United States dollars to each victim, Furthermore, international inspectors will enter the country to determine the status of labourers within the country. They will be given full authority to shut down any operations which are using slave or coerced labour. The Genoshan government will also allow the presence of a peacekeeping force, to be assembled by the United Nations or by an alliance of free states to ensure the security of former slaves inside the country. Finally, the dictators of the Genoshan Republic will step down and full democracy will be instituted inside the country.

The Republic of Genosha is being given one week to make clear moves towards satisfying all these demands. Failure to do so will be met with immediate and overwhelming military action by the armed forces of the United States and its allies. To repeat, only swift and unconditional surrender will prevent military action.

God willing, our people will be brought back to us soon.”

Chapter Text

Brotherhood Base of Operations:

Magneto had to admit he was a little surprised by the President’s address, at how emphatic he had been about freeing the mutants that were kidnapped. He’d his daughter Wanda, in lieu of Raven, who was off on personal business for the time being. It might have struck some as a swift promotion into his inner circle, but he wanted to show her that he wasn’t like the Avengers. She needed to feel valuable, trusted, important. And she was an intelligent young woman, there was no doubt about it.

 “I trust you have watched the address a few times?” Magneto started, looking at them both in turn. “Do you think that he is being sincere in his address?”

 “I have met the President, he’s not a man who speaks just for the sake of speaking. I believe he’s genuine in his intentions.” Wanda paused for a moment. “I think it would be a mistake to attack Washington right now. We have a President who is likely as sympathetic to our people as anyone is likely to be. Provoking the situation would likely only guarantee Senator Kelly’s victory in next year’s election.”

 “I want to speak to the President, personally.” Magneto replied. “But I’m open to finding another way to do it. Truthfully, I believe that our energies are best spent on Genosha. We have precious little time. I want Genosha to be ours. Anything else is secondary, for the moment.”

 Wanda nodded. The truth was, that she had grave reservations about any assault on the American capital, but Genosha was different. The Genoshans are slavers and dictators and monsters. No one will mourn them, and if we capture it swiftly enough, we may find ourselves being able to barter political recognition for key exports. “I think it would send a bad message to the Brotherhood, also, if you did this one alone as well. These people look up to you, Father. They want to fight at your side.”

 “And they shall.” Magneto brought up a hologram of Genosha. “The island is surprisingly small, but densely populated. It will be a challenge seizing control with minimal bloodshed. Raven will have to be recalled one way or another- her skills are irreplaceable. As I see it, Exodus and a team of Brotherhood mutants can work on liberating the mutant camps in the interior, while I and another team seize power in the capital. If we take out the nation’s power supply beforehand, we will have the upper hand. The Genoshans will be so busy worrying about the American navy, that they won’t see us coming.”

 “What about them? The aircraft carriers they’re sending. What should we do about them?” Wanda asked.

 “Ignore them if they give us that luxury. Otherwise, disable them, but aim not to take any American lives. There may come a time when that is necessary, but the less bloodshed in this strike, the better. Considering the situation, they may be surprisingly accepting of our strike.” Magneto looked at the map again. “If we offer any foreign mutants the chance to go home it will come across as a magnanimous gesture. I truly believe many or most of them will choose to stay. And if we manage to establish a mutant state, Wanda, they will come. From all four corners of the Earth. We can offer them sanctuary, a nation, a state.”

 “What about the Genoshans? What do we do with them?” Wanda looked at the map. “There’s millions of them to consider.”

 Magneto considered the placement of major cities for a few seconds. “Reprisals will be kept to a minimum. Fifty, perhaps, or a hundred at most. Most of the elites will choose to leave, I suspect. Those that stay will be able to keep their homes and property, but they must understand that they are living in a mutant state. If they cannot accept that, they will be free to leave.”

Wanda could see many ways that the process could go wrong, but how else could they proceed, really? “Are you planning on seizing power, then?” She wasn’t sure if she trusted him with that sort of power, but then again, who else could have it? Even if the goal was democracy, it would take a long time to establish the conditions where it could flourish.

 “Yes.” Magneto replied. “At least as long as it is necessary. Do I have your support, Wanda? I may need it in the future.”

 Wanda nodded, surprised at how swiftly she did so. “You do … Father.”

 Magneto actually smiled.

Hellfire Club Facility, Midwestern United States:

“I’m gonna ask you one more time. Where is she?” Rogue angrily demanded as she picked up a shaking guard, heaving the larger man like he was ragdoll, which he might as well have been in her hands. “Or Momma’s gonna start asking, and I don’t think you’d like that.” Her hands wrapped tighter around him and she shook him a bit.

 “... i-inside, I don’t know exactly where. But the doors, they’re made of sol-” The guard’s words were interrupted by Rogue throwing him across the room. She looked at the doors and cracked her knuckles before swinging at it. Indeed, it was made of six solid inches of steel, but the whole thing buckled and collapsed under her fist. She turned towards Raven.

 “What do you think this place is?” Whatever it was, it made Rogue shiver. It felt evil. There were more guards coming, but fighting them was child’s play. She simply flew over to them and gave them the lightest punches she could. She wasn’t really a hardened killer like her Momma was, but she had to admit she didn’t care all that much if they were okay. I just want my mother back. The rest of them can go straight to Hell.

 “Laboratory.” Raven replied, her voice tight. She’d let Rogue do most of the muscle work so far, knowing that it was better for all concerned. She wasn’t likely to show them even the pretence of mercy. Indeed, she wanted them to suffer, as much as they possibly could. But she had to admit, having Rogue along made the job a lot easier.

 The laboratory was clearly a huge structure, with multiple levels and literally dozens of guards, none of whom had even the smallest prayer of standing against her daughter. Raven couldn’t help but feel proud of how powerful Rogue had become, and how confidant she was in using her powers. It wasn’t that long ago that she mostly regarded them as a curse. After collapsing another door, they found themselves in a darkened room which slowly lit up to reveal Irene herself, dangling, suspended by strange looking wiring that poked into her at several points. Rogue immediately started flying towards the wires, probably aiming to rip them out.

 “Rogue!” Raven shouted as loud as he could. “We need to figure out how this works … if we’re going to free her. We need to get one of the scientists … and make him reverse the process. Or we might end up killing her.” She scowled at it. “And you let me make the scientist talk.” She took out a gleaming knife.

 Rogue didn’t say anything, but just nodded. She wanted to tear the whole damned thing down, but her Momma was probably right. They needed to know how to do it properly, and honestly, she found it hard to care about the fact that Momma had very, very cruel ways of getting information. Seeing what they’d done with her Mom made her sick to her stomach, and in her heart. And any trace of her being that wasn’t horrified and saddened by her Mother’s suffering was filled with rage. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s get one of them!”

HYDRA Facility, New York:

The hood came off of Nathaniel Essex’s face and he looked around the room, his eyes immediately adjusting to the lowered light level. Across from him at the table was sitting a ghoulish but very familiar figure, a tall, well-built frame marred prominently by a permanently grinning, blood-red skull where his face should have been. Most men would have screamed or fainted at the sight of it, let alone the implications of being a mere five feet from the dreaded Red Skull. Essex showed no such signs of fear, however.

“The whole charade with the hood was quite unnecessary, you know.” Essex noted dryly, leaning back in the seat.

 “I determine what is necessary and what is not. Think of it what you will. Your compliance is the only thing that matters.” The Red Skull replied, his permanent death’s head grin taking on an especially cruel countenance. “You’re asking me for quite a favor. What are you offering me in exchange for this great service?”

 Essex’s face remained impassive. He had no fear of the Red Skull whatsoever, though he was wise enough to give the man a healthy measure of respect. Not to do so with someone so cunning, cruel and imaginative was foolish. “My assistance in crafting a new and better generation of Master Men. My craft has improved markedly since the war, as you can imagine. I think that is more than a fair trade for the time of one of your minions.”

 The Red Skull’s face did not react quite react as a normal face would, but Essex sensed that he was interested. “And why do you need Doctor Faustus, anyway? As I recall, you have your own telepathic abilities.”

 “I do.” Essex replied evenly. “But I freely admit that Faustus has a certain sense of craft that no telepath can replicate. I want someone to be remade, body and soul. The person in question is also a powerful psychic. I wish to work in concert with the good Doctor to break her will and individuality, and mold it into what I desire it to be.” He smiled thinly. “I think you’d admire the cruelty of it all.”

The Red Skull looked like he was thinking for a moment and then his ghastly grin widened. “I think we can come to an agreement along those terms, Doctor. It would be good to work together again. You always took such pride in your work in the camps. And just look at how far your prize Jew has come. Some untermenschen, yes?” The Skull laughed.

“I kept him alive for a reason.” Essex noted dryly, hoping that the Skull would not persist in his disgusting prejudices, at least so openly. It made it more difficult for him to respect the man. “Is Doctor Faustus here? I would like to talk to him personally about what needs to be done about this young woman.”

 “Always straight to business with you, isn’t it?” The Red Skull almost rolled his eyes at that, but his baleful gaze remained unaltered. “No doubt he’ll be intrigued by whatever plan you have for this girl of yours. And what happens to this mutant girl once you’ve changed?”

“She will be as precious to me as my own daughter.” Essex replied, no doubt somewhat contrarily to what the Red Skull expected. She will, too. It wouldn’t be the first time. He reminded himself that it’d been too long since he’d been home to see his other ‘daughter’.

Upstate New York:

When Jean Grey had asked if she could stay with her parents for a few days, they had naturally been obliging, and she’d found herself right back in her old room. For a day or two, it had felt as if nothing had changed, but it wasn’t long before she realized that that feeling of continuity was only an illusion. She felt confined, not only in her large family home- but also in the spacious grounds around it. Even when she flew through the air with her telekinesis, she felt strangely barred, as if she was meant for something so much greater.

You are. We are. This is only one insignificant planet. There is so much more, if you only open your eyes. Let me help you, we can help each other.

Jean closed her eyes and tried to will the voice, siren-like in its temptation away, but no such thing could be done. Every night when she slept, she dreamed of worlds beyond her imagination, and now even in her waking life, she was struck by the sheer smallness of her present life, hemmed in by confines of geography and habit.

Am I going crazy? I can’t talk to Xavier about this, and no one else would understand what is happening.

No. You are a blind little girl who is finally beginning to see who she really is. What he tried to prevent you from becoming.

And what is that?

Life and creation. Divine fire given flesh.

Jean shuddered. It sounded so wrong … blasphemous, for her. She’d often struggled to maintain the faith of her childhood with all that had happened, but she’d always, always believed in a kind and just God. And when she’d been so young and so frightened, she’d so often felt the real presence of something powerful and good.

There is only one God.

There are millions of them, and you are among the greatest. Embrace it, do not hide from it. We are one. I am you, and you are me. And we are. I AM.

Breakfast Room, X-Mansion:

Kitty idly whistled a Dazzler song as she fixed herself some coffee. It was important that she started days earlier now, so she had prep time for her classes, even if she absolutely loved her sleep. Continuing to hum along to the song that had annoyingly popped into her head, she got herself some cereal- plain Cheerios, which made her wonder when she officially became an adult who ate grown-up cereal. Next thing you know I’ll be telling the students to get off the lawn.

She was slightly surprised to see Scott Summers walk into the kitchen- he’d been nearly totally MIA for awhile. He still had a somewhat pale and dour look to him, but he’d shaved and was already in the process of brewing that horrifying death slurry that he insisted on calling coffee. Kitty smiled over at him.

“It’s good to see you about again.”

Scott nodded wordlessly for a moment, continuing to make his coffee, before stopping and sighing. “I … I needed to get out. Keep myself busy. We’ve got too much work to do.” He rummaged about to get himself some bread for toast. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Scott.” Kitty interrupted him. “It’s okay. I don’t know why … it happened, or what led up to it, but I know how much you love her and that it sucks. If you need time to heal, take it. We’ll manage, honest.” She put a hand on his arm.

“Thanks.” Scott replied in a near monotone. “I need to keep busy, though. If I take time for myself, all I’m going to do is think about it. Or try to get her back. And she needs time, a lot more than me. With everything.”

“Scott, you can totally tell me to screw off if it’s not my place, but … is it final with you two?” Kitty asked carefully.

Scott’s face tensed for a moment as if he was going to take her up on that, but it relaxed after a moment and turned into something so deeply sad and lonely that it broke her heart into tiny pieces, just seeing it. “Not in so many words. But she told me that I was free to date other people. So … as good as.”

Kitty’s first impulse was to hug him, but she wasn’t sure how he’d take it, so she didn’t immediately. “If you need anything, Scott, anything, you ask, okay? Any way I can help with anything. I mean it.”

“... thank you.” Scott replied, this time, considerably more sincerely than the last time. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll even pretend for your sake that that poison sludge is coffee.” Kitty volunteered helpfully. She was astonished the viscous goo hadn’t melted through the pot already.

“Keeps me going.” Scott clarified as he poured it into a cup and drank it, as if it was intended for human consumption. Kitty swore it smelled worse than jet fuel. “Genosha. We need to figure out where we stand on that.”

“... I’m happy to see the US government stand up against Genosha? I mean, isn’t that a big triumph for us?” Kitty sipped her own coffee. “I mean, it could go wrong sure, but it’s not like we can just let Genoshans kidnap mutants. They need to be stopped.”

“I won’t argue that.” Scott looked thoughtful for a moment. “Except that I can guarantee you that we won’t just see it play out.”

“... Magneto?” Kitty asked.

“If this situation works out the way the President wants it, it’s a huge loss for Magneto. He’s going to make a move, a big move and soon. We need to figure out what that is.” Scott looked even grimmer, if that was possible, for a moment. “We might have to go to Genosha.”

Mutant Town:

“Terry still not talking to you, Sean?” Lucas Bishop asked as they went on a foot patrol of one of Mutant Town’s more notorious patches. Normally, police walked these kinds of neighbourhoods with their hand on their guns, but Bishop had a somewhat unusual defensive weapon- his standard-issue police taser, wired to shock him, should the situation require it. He could absorb that energy and use it, in a significantly less lethal way than a gun, as long as he was careful.

His partner, Sean Cassidy, didn’t really need his gun- his most dangerous weapon was his voice, one that could be raised to astonishing volumes which could incapacitate any hostile remarkably swiftly. The top brass at NYPD didn’t know they were mutants- though some surely suspected, since they’d volunteered to do the dangerous Mutant Town beat. Several of the locals knew, and it was generally well-established that Sean’s daughter, Terry, was a mutant.

“No, though she’s stopped her stupid hunger strike.” Sean sighed. “She’s still angry about Tom getting hurt. I say … I don’t know what to say. Tom’s a criminal, and not a minor one either. My advice, Lucas? Don’t have children. You love them so much, but they bring you so much grief too.”

“... she’s fortunate she wasn’t apprehended.” Lucas let it go though right after saying it. It didn’t seem quite right that Terry basically had got to walk right out of that situation, but he wasn’t going to go on about it, not in front of her father and his best friend. He could only hope she realized that she wouldn’t be so lucky next time. “I suppose she’s still thinking that she won’t be going to Xavier’s?”

“She can think what she likes, but she’s going. Can’t trust anyone else to keep her safe. And I’m gone too often with work to watch her like she needs.” Sean looked up to see a crowd gathering around a local intersection. “... it’s not that Quire twat again, is it?”

“... yeah. It’s Quire.” Lucas confirmed, catching a glimpse of his ridiculous pink mohawk amid the crowd, whipping them up. Lucas reached for a set of extra-strength earplugs and put them in his ears. “Time to do your thing, I think.”

“Alright, let’s get their attention.” Sean took a deep breath and then exhailed in a piercing whistle that cut through the noise of the gathering like a steel knife, causing virtually all of them to clutch their ears and then to turn around to the source of the noise.

“Ladies and gentlemen, best you return to your homes. You’re blocking the traffic and like to get unwanted attention if you insist on doing this.” Sean started. “You’ve got five minutes to get gone or we call in a disorderly gathering.”

“Hey, fuck off, pig!” An ironically somewhat pig-faced mutant called out from the crowd, which drew an assortment of jeers. The crowd didn’t have many stones at hand, but a few beer cans and assorted other pieces of junk were lobbed at the two police officers.

“I said … GET OUT .” Banshee screamed, the deafening roar causing the audience to clutch their ears. Most of them ran after that, not wanting to deal with another scream like that. Quire himself cast a venmous glare as he too stalked off, clutching his ears and cursing under his breath.

“Not bad.” Lucas commented dryly. “Got them to back off, and no blood spilled.” In his book, that was a real triumph. That was when he saw the news reporter.

“Oh shit.” Sean said as the newscrew recovered enough to start rolling the cameras again and the reporter went up to him with a microphone.

“Trish Tilby, ANN. Do you often use your mutant powers to disperse riots in Mutant Town? Are your superiors aware of your superhuman gifts?”

Well, that’s it. We’re as good as fucked.

Massachusetts Academy:

Years of preparation had gone into this day, and finally, the doors of the Massachusetts Academy were opening. Emma Frost had ordered new outfits to be made for her- her usual garb was admittedly inappropriate for school business, one suitable for the role in which she saw herself but one that still allowed her the entrancing power she was used to. Warren, she had to admit, looked very handsome indeed next to her in a similarly well-tailored suit. His primary business would remain with Worthington Financial, of course, but he’d agreed to teach business classes at the school on a part-time basis.

Her agents had gone far and wide in their search for valuable potential students, and for the most part, she had to applaud their efforts. Sebastian had, naturally, sent one of his numerous bastard children to the school- to do anything else would have been a slap in her face. Emma hoped to make that action a grave mistake, though. The girl was smart and capable in many ways, clearly groomed for a position of power- but she’d been raised distantly, without genuine emotional connections. Emma hoped to fill that role. Sebastian’s other prominent bastard, Shinobi, could easily be bought, for all that he was worth.

There were other students that she’d already earmarked as potentially valuable. Julian Keller- an arrogant prat of a boy, but the sort of handsome, confident young man that people naturally followed. He was a powerful telekinetic as well. The five girls, Stepfords- though one could easily have mistaken them for younger sisters of hers, all telepaths and together, a match for any psychic mind. A sulking young girl who had been confirmed as one of Logan’s children- with the temperament to match. Manuel da Rocha, a cruel, manipulative Spanish boy with the power of empathy. A dangerous one, he was, but she believed she could channel him to her purpose.

The best of them were to be trained specially, apart from the general mass of the school, into a team that would be capable of handling any work she needed done. Her Hellions, to mold into loyal agents and future leaders of the Hellfire Club. Her Hellfire Club. Emma’s games were well on their way, but there remained some powerful obstacles and some troubling unknown elements.

First and foremost, she could not deny that Sebastian’s political connections as well as his development of Sentinel technology, gave him powerful tools with which to extend his authority. However, Emma knew, the Sentinels made his position in the mutant community inherently difficult- many would never be convinced that Sentinels could be turned to anything but the oppression or obliteration of their race. Magneto is unlikely to listen to any number of protestations, despite what Sebastian might think.

Secondly, there was Tessa- his most loyal servant and the only person that Emma believed he sincerely trusted. He might have even loved her, though such a fact was insignificant next to his level of trust in her. The other woman’s lack of ambition had always baffled Emma. She’s incisive and almost limitlessly competent. And yet she remains stubbornly by Sebastian’s side. She’d have to deal with her, one way or the other. If she refuses to see that Sebastian’s star is waning, and mine is on the rise, well, perhaps she’s not so smart as she thinks she is.

Which left the question marks, the people whom she could not either decisively count as an enemy or an ally. Selene had her own agenda, that was plain, but was it one that actually threatened Emma’s ambitions? In the long run, she suspected it was likely, but she also believed that Selene could be turned against Sebastian with the right incentive. She was certainly a risk to Emma, but one that Emma believed could be managed in the short and even medium-term.

Essex, the new member, was the more troubling one. Emma had never seen Selene truly rattled before, until he had walked in. The worst part was that she genuinely could not guess his motivations- he seemed uninterested in ultimate power, he was as far as she could tell totally oblivious to the appeal of sex or money and he ruthlessly kept his own counsel. Emma knew that he had plans with Jean Grey, to turn her to the Hellfire Club, but neither she nor her agents had been able to determine anything about it. Her inability to read his mind also vexed her- she couldn’t control Sebastian either, but the implant he used to block telepathy left an obvious ‘blank spot’. Essex had no such sign of technology, which led her to conclude, most likely, that he was a telepath of ability comparable to hers.

Troubling as all that may have been, Emma believed that she had things well in hand. She had her own power base within the Club, one that would only expand with the operation of the school- one that additionally gave her powerful assets to use at her discretion. She could work on cultivating friends inside Washington as well. She had the inestimable advantage of owning her own television networks, radio stations and newspapers, as well as a number of popular and influential websites. Enjoy your power while you can, Sebastian. It won’t be long before it is taken from you.

Outside the Hellfire Facility:

“Mom … you okay?” Rogue asked as she saw Irene, finally, open her eyes.

“Anna-Marie.” Irene whispered faintly. “... I’m so proud of who you’re becoming.” She smiled.

Rogue couldn’t really say anything to that, though it made her happier than she felt she had any right to be. “... I, I don’t hear people call me Anna-Marie much. Just about completely become Rogue now.”

“Never forget who you are. Yes, you are Rogue, but you are also Anna-Marie.” Irene closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them. “I’m so sorry.” She looked at Rogue with tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t stop him, from stealing my secrets. He has all of them.”

“We’ll find whoever did this to you, Mom. I’ll find them, and they’ll pay for stealing you.” Rogue said with all the certainty of a holy oath.

Irene’s eyes opened wide and she shook her head. “No, no. Rogue, promise me you won’t go after him. He’s powerful and cruel and smart. The things he’s done, you can’t even imagine them.”

How can I say that? I’m not gonna like to my Momma. I’m going to find that man one day, no matter how dangerous he is and he’s never gonna hurt anyone ever again. I swear it, no matter how long it takes, I’ll make him pay for hurting my family. Rogue swore to herself.

Raven came over to them, looking suddenly tired now that they had Irene safe. Rogue tried not to think about just how Momma had got the information from the scientists, just that she was covered in a lot of blood and she’d had to clean … stuff Rogue would rather not think about off of her knives.

It’s so damn easy to judge, though. Would I do that to the man who hurt my family? Could I? Rogue didn’t know. On the one hand, she really did want to see the person who’d dared to hurt her mother suffer. On the other hand, could she actually do some of the things she knew her Momma could do? She’d never intentionally did something to a person just to inflict pain, or outright killed them. Every time she’d ever been in a fight, she’d been defending herself or trying to rescue someone she loved.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m really made for this.

Bobby Drake’s Bedroom:

Bobby wasn’t going to stand for it any longer. He was going to go into Kitty’s room and tell her precisely how he felt, that he still cared for her, that he still wanted her. He was positive that this was a good idea. What could possibly go wrong with it? He got up and started walking towards her door. He was going to do this right now. She’s totally going to go for it, too. No giant Russian is going to stop me. This is a mission of the HEART.

Bobby knocked on the door, but there was no answer. This was not acceptable. He knocked harder. Still no answer. But he knew that Kitty was there. So he tried opening the door and realized it was unlocked. No time like the present. I’m just gonna come in and pour my heart out. You can do this, Bobby Drake. You can make this happen.

He walked in and his heart immediately sank. She was there, with Piotr, and some of their clothes were definitely off. Oh shit. I’m going to die, Bobby thought. Sure, he could turn to ice and ice was pretty hard, but steel was harder and he was pretty sure whatever the Russian was made out of was better than regular-type steel. Like some sort of high-grade Russian steel. High-grade Russian steel that was well-maintained. I mean, those are some absolutely amazing abs. Damn, that guy must work out a lot.

“Hello, Bobby.” Kitty finally spoke, and Bobby tried to only notice and not totally fixate on the fact that she only had a bra and panties on. Oh god, it’s those lacey blue ones. With the bow. It was really, really hard for him not just stare, because oh god she has the most amazing body ever. Her eyebrow arched and she smirked slightly at him. “Did you want something, Bobby?”

Bobby swallowed hard. Yes, I want you and I love you and I want you so badly right now, and oh god, I’m like adamantium down there and why did we break up and … his derailing thoughts were drawn to Piotr, who was watching the whole situation with a strange, inscrutable little smirk on his face. Oh my god. He’s amused. I’m so unthreatening, that he isn’t even mad. And he’s got great cheekbones. Oh my god, I just noticed his cheekbones. Quick, look at Kitty. Boobs. Yes. Boobs and hips and girly things. Not abs or manly cheekbones.

“I think it’s clear what he wants, Katya.” Piotr finally said, breaking the silence and there was that supremely confident little grin on his face.

“Oh very, very clear.” Kitty replied, with a little smirk of her own. And then her bra phased to the ground and yep, they’re as perfect and flawless as I remember them. Yep. We have boobage, Central Command. But also … giant Russian? And then Kitty was walking closer to him and oh god her hands were sliding down his stomach and brushing against Lil’ Bobby and even though he still had pants on he didn’t … wait, did she phase those off, because I’m pretty sure I had pants a moment ago. Kitty looked up at him, biting her lip. “... you want me, don’t you, Bobby?’ She looked over at Piotr. “Mm, do you mind sharing me a little, Piotr?”

Piotr looked like he was considering it for a moment and then that inscrutably confidant little smirk came back, except it was widening into an almost predatory grin. “Only if I get some too.” And then he felt strong, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close and it wasn’t Kitty’s lips on his, it was Piotr’s and oh god he’s so strong and I’m totally frenching a guy and I really, really like it.

Bobby woke up then with a gasp. Oh my god. I just dreamed that dream. And … it was clear that Little Bobby very much approved of the proceedings. Okay, I need the coldest shower in the history of humanity. A long, very, very cold shower. And then, I don’t know? Talk to Hank? I always talk to Hank. He’s probably tired of hearing about my crises, but oh my god, what if I’m gay? But wait, if I were gay, I wouldn’t be so into girls?

Oh my god. Cold shower. Then think. Cold shower first. Now.

Presidential Palace, Genosha:

“I swear to God, your Excellency, I had no idea this was going down.” Gyrich managed to blurt out as he felt the cold steel of a gun pressed against his forehead. “I would have cautioned against this, sir, please do not kill me, Your Excellency.”

The Marshal waited for a moment, ten seconds perhaps, surely an eternity for the man. He then pulled back the gun slightly and slapped Gyrich with it. Not hard enough to cause serious injury, just enough to split the lip a little. “I should kill you to send a message, you little toad. But you have your uses. You stay here with me. I tell the President and his men this. I keep the Americans with me until this situation is resolved. If the President wishes to bomb me out, he’ll kill his people too.”

When Gyrich started blubbering, the Marshal slapped him again, this time with a gloved hand, though. “Shut up. I won’t kill you.” He looked out the window for a moment. The streets were tense. A lot of opposition elements had come out of the woodwork, hoping that change would come soon. He would crush them. He’d find a way to resolve the situation with the Americans- it might mean stopping international recruitment, at least in Western countries, but they’d see reason. They needed the resources his country offered. He’d make some token reforms and the situation would resolve itself gradually.

All the Marshal needed to do was not to panic, not to attack the American vessels- the Genoshan military capacity was such that they had a chance of damaging or even disabling the ships, but probably not destroying them. Such an action, however, would bring catastrophic doom on his country and he knew it. He knew there was a ballistic missile submarine lurking in the waters around Genosha and that there was little or nothing he could do to bring it down. And throwing his air force at the carriers would mean the destruction of his force, no matter what damage it did to the Americans. The Marshal figured he had just enough teeth, just enough military power to make the Americans think twice of launching an actual strike. Enough that he could open negotiations, perhaps in a week or so, when the rhetoric had died off a little and the newscycle moved on to something new.

I am many things, but first and foremost, I am a survivor. I will do what it takes to preserve my nation and my power. Genosha would have fallen into chaos without him. The country needed him. Only he had the iron will to enslave the mutants before the mutants enslaved them. And damn it if the world shouldn’t follow my lead. People only respect strength. Power is the only thing that matters. It was why he’d have to basically let the Americans get away with this outrage. Their power. Revenge, reasonably speaking, was out of the question. It was all about finding a respectable, reasonable way to appear to submit while keeping most of his power intact.  

The Marshal looked around the room. “I know you’re worried, a lot of you are scared. Don’t be scared. The Americans need us too. We wait it out for a week or so, they’ll calm down a little, we scale back our recruitment a little and in six months, we’ll be back to normal. What we need is unity. We must be united, and we’ll get through this mess. The Americans, they aren’t crazy. They aren’t going to rock the boat too much.”

It was at that moment, with the people around him looking reassured that the lights went out, all at once. The backup lights should have come on immediately, but they didn’t either. It’s not a brownout. EMP. He growled and went immediately over to Gyrich. “If I die here, you will die too. I promise you that.” He nodded over at his soldiers. “Signal everyone. We’ll need to organize resistance, and quickly.” He cocked his gun. “No one retreats. No one runs. We fight for our people.”

And then the Marshal heard the most terrified sound that he’d ever heard in his entire life, the entire Palace around them creaking and moaning. And then there was a ping as one of the bolts holding the ceiling up fell to the ground. And then another, and another, and with a horrifying tearing sound, a large section of the roof tore right off. Simultaneously to that, every gun in the room mashed itself into complete uselessness.

And for the first time in years, the Marshal felt true fear, his mouth going totally dry, his eyes wide, legs paralyzed with fear, his bladder opening, a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. He knew he should have run, but he could do nothing but stare as Magneto descended from the heavens. He could not do anything but look goggle-eyed as he was bound in metal and pinned to a wall.

Incredibly, the emergency lights came back on at a tiny gesture from Magneto and a working microphone drifted over to him. Magneto picked it up and began to speak.

“Attention, people of Genosha. I am Magneto. As of this moment, I have assumed control of Genosha. Your Marshal and government has been captured, your military has been neutralized, the slaves inside their camps in the interior have been freed by my Brotherhood of Mutants. Go to your homes. You will be safe so long as you do not interfere with us. Further instructions will be given as needed. Stay in your homes and you will not be harmed.

Mutants of Genosha, know that your liberation is at hand. I have heard your cries and I have come to lift you out of slavery and with your help, we will a mutant state- a place where you need never fear hatred or prejudice. To the brave men and women hiding in the hills of Genosha, know your struggle has not been in vain. To those who have suffered in the slave camps, your chains are broken today! You are free and heirs to a glorious future! To those who hid in the cities and on the farms, come out! You need not hide anymore! To those who have been kidnapped and sold to Genosha from foreign lands- if you wish to return home, I will not stop you, but if you stay, together we can build a homeland for all mutants, across the globe! Mutants across the world, know that as of today, a homeland and sanctuary has been created!”

Chapter Text

Earlier that Day, in the Genoshan Hill Country:

“You had better not have brought me out here for no good reason, Kleinstocks.” Carmella Unuscione half-snarled. “I don’t appreciate having my time wasted.” Despite being towered over by the huge triplets, they practically cowered before her.

“... there’s some mutants who want to, uh, talk to you.” One of them- Sven, perhaps, finally managed to stammer out as he stood aside to show a small band of mutants dressed in what she took as idiotically elaborate costumes. “Say they’re here to liberate the pens, with us. Today.”

Unuscione narrowed her eyes at the group. “Where the hell did you come from? You don’t look like you’re from the camps, or even the city.” A towering exoskeleton of crackling green energy formed around her. “You’d best make that explanation a quick one.”

“Oh, lighten up.” Raven teased with a faint smirk. “You must not get the foreign news much up in these hills. Or you’d know exactly who sent us.” Her features shifted into the visage of Magneto before turning back into her own. “We’re the Brotherhood of Mutants, well, some of us. There are others with Magneto himself, advancing on the capital.”

“You think that you can just come here- assuming you’re telling the truth and end all this in a single day? Do you have any idea what it’s even been like here in Genosha?” Carmella’s exoskeleton crackled around her, growing more opaque as she grew angier. “Why should I even believe a word you say?”

“Because if you do not, your one opportunity for liberation at the hands of Lord Magneto is wasted. We will remember who stood with us and who refused to answer the clarion call for action.” Exodus’s voice was mild compared to Unuscione’s, but it was accompanied by an utter conviction the Genoshan couldn’t match. His gaze met hers and, instantly, her exoskeleton fizzled away into nothingness. “Save your wrath for our common enemy. Such is Lord Magneto’s will.”

Unuscione looked as stunned as the other Genoshans did at Exodus’s sudden show of power. She managed to recover quickly, though. “Yeah, well, you’ll still need people who actually know the country. The biggest slave pens in the country are about five miles march from here. Treacherous terrain.”

“Visualize the location.” Exodus replied. “Hold in your thoughts, wherever you and your kin have gone to observe the camp. Show me where we need to go, and we shall be there, immediately. This is a war that has been delayed too long.”

“Best do what Ser Valiant asks.” Raven replied with a smirk. “Whatever he lacks in imagination, he more than possesses in raw power.”

Unuscione simply nodded, seemly humbled for the moment and recalled the location of the Genoshan slave camps as best she could. A few seconds later, in a brilliant flash of light, she was there, with her fellow fighters and with the foreigners from Magneto’s Brotherhood. She looked down and realized the camps were almost totally dark. She turned toward Raven, looking for explanation.

“Magneto, honeybunch. Lights are out all over the country.” Raven grinned and cocked an impressively large gun. “Let’s roll, motherfuckers.”

Off the Genoshan Coast:

Admiral Kimmel stared out at the expanse of ocean before him. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that Genosha wasn’t far away. He also knew that at any time, he could get the order to attack. The Genoshan airforce was a fairly modern one, but he doubted they had anything that could cope with the next-generation fighters that the Enterprise could bring to bear. He had the firepower to bring Genosha to its knees in hours, and somewhere in the oceans, not far from him, was another carrier, the slightly older but still powerful Nimitz, and with both of the carriers were several support vessels. Somewhere underneath the surface, as well, was a ballistic missile submarine, equipped with both conventional and nuclear weaponry.

“Think the Genoshans realize how completely screwed they are?” Commander Thompkins asked the admiral as a few airplanes returned from their reconnaissance flights.

The Admiral sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure what they realize. My estimation of their common sense pretty much stopped when I heard they’d been kidnapping American citizens. Still, it’d be better if they do. We have the power to win, but we’ll take casualties, for sure, if it comes to fighting. Genoshans are tough.”

It was then that that an urgent message came up on the bridge controls. The Admiral put it on audio.

“Sir, all communications infrastructure on the Genoshan mainland is down. Our own sensors seem to be blocked by electromagnetic interference. Long-range sensors are indicating that the disruption is coming from a singular sour-” The transmission cut out immediately, to be replaced by another one, from a chillingly familiar voice.

“Admiral, no doubt you are wondering what is happening.” Magneto’s voice rang out across the deck, in a commanding baritone that suggested the old and refined cultures of Central Europe, but also of iron determination and endless confidence in his own power. “Let me be clear. The Genoshan regime’s time is numbered, not in days as you would imagine it, but in hours and minutes.”

“Cut the rhetoric, Magneto.” Admiral Kimmel replied. “If you can hear me, you’ll tell me plainly what the hell you’re up to.”

“I am liberating the island of Genosha, emptying its prisons and tearing down its slave camps. But do not fear, Admiral. I have chosen to interpret the actions of your President as being motivated by a genuine desire to help the Genoshan people. Thusly, I give you a priceless gift. Your lives. Still, I cannot have you interfere with my work here on this island. Your vessels will all be disabled for a period of twenty-four hours, after which your power will be fully restored. Should you choose to intervene, however, I will be forced to defend myself with deadly force.”

The Admiral had no time to curse or say anything else before the power duly shut down on the carrier, with the emergency power only restoring the most basic functions. They were as good as helpless in whatever Magneto planned. Well, damn.

Near the Presidential Citadel:

“Lights went out.” Rogue took a breath. “Magneto’s taken care of the main army facilities. We’ll be going in any time now.”

Kayla nodded, looking around the corner. “Surprised nobody’s seen us yet.”

“Too distracted by the other things Magneto’s pulled. Hey … I never got much of a chance to ask, but since we’re about to go right up into it, we okay? How are you doing?” Rogue asked.

“... I’m okay.” Kayla replied, slightly awkwardly, but sincerely enough. “We’re friends, right?”

“Friends.” Rogue smiled. “Friends that are about to open up a can of kickass on these jackasses.” She whistled. “Hey chumps! Y’all know where you need to be. We’re backup and distraction.” Her fists balled up, and she realized that she didn’t have a stirring catchphrase.

“What’re you bitches waiting for? FREEDOM!” Kayla promptly cried out, waving out towards the Genoshan street, then knocking over an armoured personnel vehicle with one of her shockwaves. “FREEDOM FOR MUTANTS!”

“... yeah. That’ll do.” Rogue quietly said to herself as she streaked out of their rendezvous point, slamming into a tank with her shoulder and tipping it over. The immediate outbreak of fire didn’t scare her. Bullets felt like rain. The high-powered rounds from the sniper didn’t hurt any worse than a little hail on a summer night. She looked up at the nest and streaked up towards it, slamming into the shooting gallery, bricks and glass and steel breaking like styrofoam under her, their guns gloriously ineffective, her own blows felling them like the harvest. She hurtled down below into a crowd of armoured infantry, scattering them like bowling pins.

‘Hey, you ladies should be saving some for us.” Pyro smirked as he whipped up a colossal wall of flame which cleared the streets of more soldiers. It was then that they noticed the huge gate that marked the way to the Presidential Palace, with the Genoshan national insignia splashed across it.

“... hey Kayla, think you could do some redecoratin’?” Rogue hollered out as she sent an armoured personnel carrier hurtling down the street towards a crowd of terrified soldiers.

“My fuckin’ pleasure.” Kayla replied with a grim smile as she summoned up the largest shockwave she could, which hurtled into the gate, sending it crashing to the ground, the metal insignia crushing and warping underneath the shockwave’s power.

Rogue couldn’t help but grin. “All right, y’all, let’s go in and say hi to the Boss.”

X-Mansion:

Scott watched the news, having to suppress the urge to simply blast the television into smithereens. He stood up in the middle of the broadcast, however facing the others with a grim expression on his face.

“War Room. Fifteen minutes. Full uniform.” Scott said in a blunt tone of voice before going downstairs presumably to change into uniform and get ready for the meeting.

“... good. Maybe we’re finally gonna do somethin’ other than watch Magneto do whatever he wants.” Logan growled as he lit up a cigar. “Worth puttin’ on that dumbass uniform on, even.”

“... eww, do you really need to smoke those gross things inside, Logan?” Kitty wrinkled her nose as she got up.

Logan smirked. “Sure do …” He suddenly glared at Ororo as a tiny raincloud put out his cigar neatly. “...” He just shook his head and went up to get his uniform. The rest of the group got up to find their uniforms and get ready for the meeting in the War Room.

Which left Remy. “So … I don’t have a uniform. I take it that means, Remy stay home an’ watch the kids?” The silence from the others just made him shrug as he changed the channel to something better. Got to make sure I tell Magneto before they get there, though. They’re fools to be thinking they can fight him. Nobody can fight Magneto.

“... you will not be left here alone with them, I assure you.” Ororo said dryly as she got up to leave, casting him a suspicious little look as she got up and left.

Oh she likes me. I just know it.

Remy cast a look around as all the others left and leaned back. If he left right now, it might look suspicious, so he decided he’d just watch the football game for a little while before going off to tell Magneto to expect company. Half-time’s in twenty minutes. And it’s the Saints. Should be supportin’ the home team.

Upstate New York:

Jean Grey had a monstrous headache- the sort that she remembered all too well from when her psychic powers were developing as a young girl. She hadn’t had them for years, until recently, when her powers had begun developing further and further and the Phoenix had begun to manifest itself. Whatever exactly it is.

Her fingers idly thumbed over a paper business card in her hand, one she’d been handed by Dr. Essex- he’d been her doctor all through her childhood. In fact, it had been him who’d originally suggested that her parents speak with Charles Xavier following Annie’s death. Over the years he’d cared for her, he’d become good friends with her family. It wasn’t unusual for them to have dinner. He was one of a very, very few people whom she and her family had trusted with the revelation that she was a mutant.

He told me that this time, all I need to do is talk. Just to give him one change, an hour-long session. Nathan could tell that I’ve been upset. Jean remembered him furrowing his brow in concern. The doctor was practically family- Jean felt closer to him than she did to some of her own aunts and uncles. He told me this man could be trusted with anything. Absolute confidentiality.

How can a psychologist actually help me, though? This is real, this isn’t a delusion, and talking about my feelings won’t make Phoenix go away.

Do I want Phoenix to go away? Is it right? Is Phoenix even separate from me?

Jean flipped over the card and looked at it. Apparently, the therapist that Nathan had suggested was one Johann Fennhoff. Germanic-sounding name. I’m pretty sure that’s on TVTropes somewhere. She’d run a Google search on him, trying to find details- she’d found a few well-received books, three Therapist of the Year awards from a prestigious European body and a YouTube channel from an extremely satisfied former patient. One hour. Maybe it will be good to talk, if nothing else.

Fine, Dr. Fennhoff. You’ll have your hour.

Xavier Institute, War Room:

Scott Summers stood as everyone else sat down, bringing up a three-dimensional map of Genosha on the table above them, with reddened points indicating the apparent points where Magneto had attacked. He still looked a little paler than normal, and he hadn’t shaved today but there was a grim determination on his face.

“Magneto has attacked and taken over the island of Genosha. As far as we know, the American naval blockade remains active, but no further moves have been made. If he’s allowed a chance to consolidate his power, he won’t have a few dozen followers anymore, but millions, potentially.” The unspoken fear, of course, is that he would be effectively untouchable. “We know charismatic Magneto is. We know how bad things were there, I think we have to assume his message will find a great many sympathetic hearers.”

Logan grinned slightly ferally. “Preemptive strike, then? Pretty dangerous move, Scotty.” Sharp canines flashed. “Might not be comin’ back from that one, even if it works.” It was clear though that Logan wanted precisely that.

Scott took a breath. “That’s a distinct possibility, I won’t deny that. I don’t think we can grant Magneto the chance to establish his power there.”

Kitty leaned back, a determined look on her face. “... let’s talk about the actual plan. I don’t think we need to argue why Magneto is a bad guy.”

“I disagree.” Piotr said quietly, and even when Kitty half-whirled around to stare at him, he remained unflinching. “I think it is very important to discuss. I do not trust Magneto, either, but these Genoshans, they kidnapped mutants and made them slaves. What happens if we win? Is there chaos? Or do the Genoshans regain power?”

“... Piotr raises an important point, Scott.” Ororo spoke calmly. “This is not like the past, when Magneto was trying to steal missiles to threaten cities with. Millions of people will look to him as a liberator.”

“I know guys like this, Stormy.” Logan interjected. “Magneto ain’t never gonna be content with one island. He’ll want the whole damn world.”

“I mean, no offense, Ororo, but yeah, Magneto’s kinda insane in the membrane there. I mean, the Genoshans were super shitty, but we’re talking about a guy who has basically unlimited ambition. I mean, he does not mess around.” Bobby sighed. “I think the problem’s more … practical, as in, how the hell do we actually beat the guy? Scott, back me up here. Did we ever actually defeat the guy because we were more powerful or smarter or whatever?”

“We’re a lot more powerful than the old team used to be, Bobby.” Scott replied firmly. “And just because something is hard doesn’t mean it can’t or shouldn’t be done. The Brotherhood should be dispersed around the country, keeping an eye on the freed mutants, hunting down resistance, any number of things. We go into the Presidential Palace, straight for him. Take him down and out before he knows what hit him.”

“Oh yes, that will work nicely. In our big metal airplane with our giant metal Russian and our fucking metal-plated Canadian here. Oh yes, brilliant.” Betsy glared at them. “Don’t be daft. We won’t surprise him. And I’m inclined to agree with Piotr. Frankly, maybe he’s done us all a great fucking favor.”

“Elisabeth is right. The element of surprise is not something you can count on. Not now. He fully expects that someone will be coming after him shortly.” Xavier spoke up as he entered the War Room. “Scott, I understand that the X-Men are your responsibility, but I implore you to reconsider. Allow me to speak to Erik, personally. There may yet be a time when the X-Men need to go to Genosha to challenge Magneto, but it is not now.”

“Charles, what do you think will actually be accomplished by talking to him? He’s conquered an entire country.” Scott’s jaw set. “He won’t stop there, and you know it.”

“What do you think will be accomplished by sending people who cannot agree on a common purpose to fight an enemy who is powerful, experienced and who can rely on an uncountable number of devoted allies?” Xavier countered. “There is a point at which bravery becomes suicide.”

Scott’s jaw clenched even harder and the room went dead silent. He looked at everyone in turn and then realized, that, Charles is right. We can’t even agree. We’re hardly a team at all. Betsy’s right. We aren’t going to get the drop on him. And … Piotr has a point. We simply don’t know. “... we’re running group training in half an hour. We start training every day. Professor, you can speak with Magneto if you want, but I think we both know how that’s going to go.” On that note, Scott turned around and left the room, ostensibly to program the mission but also because he didn’t feel like being around anyone else for a short while.

“... well, guess that solved the question of who’s really in charge.” Logan took out a cigar and started to light it before it was snatched out of his hands. “Hey!”

“Don’t be a dickface.” Kitty glared at him, before throwing away the cigar and lighter to the other side of the room. She stood up herself and looked around the room. “And that applies to the rest of you too. Some fucking team we are, bickering like a bunch of little kids. How are we going to save the world when we’re all like this?”

She turned around to face the Professor. “And really? Really? In public like that? So let’s add a little public humiliation to everything else he’s had to go through. I hope your conversation with Magneto goes really well.”

“Katya …” Piotr started, reaching out a hand to her shoulder, only to have her wrench it away from him.

“Don’t touch me. I don’t want to be calmed down.” Her face set in a grim expression. “I’ll see you all at training.” And with that, Kitty phased through the wall.

“So, she’s totally right. We really suck, guys.” Bobby finally said, breaking another long awkward silence.

X-Men Danger Room:

It was safe to say that there was real tension in the air as the X-Men filed into the Danger Room. Ororo could see it written clear as day in the faces of everyone present. This will not go well. Even the people who had seemed to be able to maintain some positivity in view of the meeting had soured since. Not even Kurt seemed to be able to spare her a smile- most of the rest of the room looked like they were being lined up for execution, with the significant exception of Kitty, who looked like she was liable to be the executioner. Ororo didn’t need to be a telepath to pick up the powerful vibe of anger and disgust emanating from the younger girl.

And then there was Scott, whose pale, worn expression had changed into something. He too was angry, though there was an unhealthy mix of depression, embarrassment and desperation in there too. But then he set his jaw and it was clear that he was only interested, right now, in the business at hand. The scene faded into a nighttime scene near the Presidential Palace.

“Storm, get airborne and give us some cover. Shadowcat and Nightcrawler, I want you two to to run recon. Go through the wall, go opposite directions and report back on what you see. Iceman, I want you to stay close to Storm. Back her up if she needs it. Psylocke, Wolverine, Colossus, when Shadowcat’s done recon, you go in with me. Once we’re well inside, Storm, Iceman, you come with us. Psylocke, I want you to look for a blank space. Magneto’s helmet blocks telepathy- you might be able to pick it up as a conspicuously blank area.

Nothing other than finding Magneto and taking him down matters. We brush by any Brotherhood members if we can. Eyes on the prize.” Scott nodded quietly and Storm took to the skies, summoning up a storm and a dense fog that would do for some cover. Kurt and Kitty went through the wall quietly. Piotr armored up and Logan popped his claws. Betsy closed her eyes and started concentrating.

A moment later, Kurt and Kitty appeared on their side of the wall, both shaking their heads. So far so good, Scott thought, but he was less than convinced that it wasn’t actually some sort of trap. In any case, however, they had to go in. He nodded at Piotr, who kicked down a large section of the wall almost effortlessly. And then they were in. Betsy then pointed towards the left and they went down the left. Not long afterwards, Ororo and Bobby would be following them.

The sheer quietness of it all nagged at him. He’d selected the program, but the AI was free to make its own decisions afterwards and it was extremely advanced. It wouldn’t kill them of course, but it could hurt, quite a bit. It also learned, and while it wasn’t programmed with pre-knowledge of any abilities except for that of Scott and Bobby’s, Scott could only assume it would pick up quickly. A lot of people would tell him to relax, that it was just a training simulation, but Scott knew better- it wasn’t called the Danger Room for nothing.

It wasn’t long before they found themselves in a huge central room, over which there was a familiar metallic gleam everywhere. Oh no. The room itself became alive around them, tendrils of metal reaching out to grasp and restrain them. Scott managed to blast away a few. Piotr seemed to be stronger than their grasp was- Logan could cut them and Kitty could phase through them. But Betsy was clearly ensnared. Kurt managed to teleport her out of the way before it was too late, however.

It was then that the man himself appeared, rising on a floating disc of metal, summoning parts of the room around him in a whirling cloud of razor-sharp blades. Scott immediately let loose with an optic blast, which crashed against an energy field promptly put up by Magneto, though it managed to knock him backwards in his bubble and make him lose concentration on the metallic tendrils coming out of the floor.

“His helmet. We need to get it off, now.” Scott called out as he blasted Magneto again, but this time the Master of Magnetism was fully ready for him and it blocked him without any effort. Kurt immediately tried teleporting within his energy sphere- it was a worthwhile attempt, but the moment that Kurt made contact with him, before he could teleport off, he saw Kurt go hideously stuff and then drop limp off of him. Electric shock. “Shadowcat! Get ready. Colossus, get Nightcrawler out of the way. Iceman, Storm, hit him with everything you have- now!”

Rain, hail and ice began pouring down in torrents on Magneto and while he could block most of the solid objects, the freezing rain was penetrating through the shield. For everything, he’s just a man- he’ll start getting hypothermia soon. But just as soon as he said it, the floor came peeling off to knock Bobby off his feet, with another section of the ceiling solidly punching Storm from up above. Neither of them were out right now, but the assault had mostly stopped.

Scott let loose an optic blast as hard as he could, trying to aim it so the force knocked him further to ground or at least kept him from gaining altitude. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kitty scampering up to try and get the drop on him from above. Magneto apparently noticed as well, however, because her handhold vanished into thin air- the molecules dispersing themselves into pieces too small to be seen. Kitty, however, quickly gained her poise, phasing slowing down her descent.

He saw a colossal chunk of stone- no doubt hurled from Piotr, hurtle towards Magneto, who neatly destroyed it with a similarly big hunk of metal from off the floor. Logan was charging not far from where Piotr had thrown the stone, but Magneto immediately caught him and send him flying out so far he was kicked out of the program. Piotr began advancing as well, and at first, Scott was convinced that Magneto would grab him the same as the others, but to his amazement, it didn’t seem to work. Is the big guy not technically made out of metal at all? Magneto seemed to solve the problem neatly by batting him aside with a large section of the floor, though Piotr was still in the game.

Ororo and Bobby were back in the game and Bobby seemed to have picked up the notion of dropping big hunks of ice on him. Even though Magneto could block them or divert them, he was still going down, further, closer to the ground. Now he was within range of Kitty- who immediately pounced upon him, stripping him of his helmet- can we actually do this? Maybe we’re actually going to win. But that split second of optimism was ruined the moment when Kitty landed and was instantly blindsided by a chunk of metal.

Betsy attacked him immediately, instantly with everything she had, but this wasn’t Cain and Magneto simply grit his teeth, fighting her for every inch. He looked pale, shaking, on the verge of losing it, but he reached out his hands towards Betsy and fixed her with a powerful surge of electricity at the same time that he regained his helmet.

The rest of it was shockingly predictable. They couldn’t do anything to substantially hurt him, and he could make the entire room a weapon. It was just a matter of time, one by one, they were dropped. The brutal fact of the matter was that Magneto was at least a match for the entire team. Even together, they couldn’t simply overpower him. They needed to really, truly work together, and that wasn’t happening.

It was unfortunate that important lessons often had to be the most painful.

Outside the Danger Room:

By any reasonable standard, Piotr had got off the best of anyone in the session. He didn’t have any bumps or bruises, didn’t lose any blood, didn’t need to be looked at to ensure that everything was alright. But like all the rest of them, he felt bitter and humiliated. Certainly their humiliating defeat had left a very, very unpleasant taste in his mouth.

He just barely registered a presence creeping into the room next to him, sitting down to his left, a couple of chairs in between them.

“ Katya , are you all right?” Piotr asked quietly. Normally, he would have made a move to put his arm around her or something, but she clearly wanted the distance, right now.

She let out a harsh breath and then turned around to look at him. “No. I’m not all right. We are not all right. This fucking sucks.” She took another few breaths. “And we need to have a little talk about boundaries. When we’re in there, in the War Room, or on team business, don’t call me Katya. I’m Shadowcat, or Kitty. It’s not fair to appeal to my feelings for you when things are going down like that. Do you understand why that pisses me off?”

Piotr nodded quietly. “... yes.”

“And while we’re at it, what the hell was that about Magneto, Piotr?” Kitty raised her eyebrow. “Didn’t expect you’d be terribly sympathetic to him.”

“I wasn’t being sympathetic to him. I just do not think it is always so black and white. All we have to go on are assumptions.” Piotr replied, not about to budge on the point. “It is always important to talk about why we do things. I did not mean we should not fight him, I just think we need to be certain about why we do so, and as much as possible, about who we’re going up against.”

Kitty glared at him for a moment and then at the ground. “Right. Whatever.”

“Perhaps we can talk about you not just dismissing what I’m saying because you’re angry.” Piotr added with a little bit of bite to his voice, his own annoyance starting to rise. “Kitty.” It came out nasty and sarcastic and he immediately hated himself for it.

“If I was dismissing it, do you think I’d be so damn mad about it?” Kitty finally said, actually sounding a little taken aback by his tone.

Piotr took a breath. “No. I suppose not. I’m sorry for being sarcastic.” He reached up to rub his face. “I’m going to go get some rest. Classes tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Classes tomorrow.” Kitty sighed and slumped into her seat.

Genosha:

The Presidential Palace had sustained heavy damage in Magneto’s conquest of Genosha, but he’d been able to patch up much of the damage himself and in the long run, he had plans to build a new and better structure over it. In the meantime, however, he’d been able to get all of the systems up and running. The power supply to the city around them remained patchy, but it was better than nothing. Thankfully, the water mains had been unaffected so water and sanitation remained unaffected.

The food situation was going to be more difficult. It had been hard to convince many of the former slaves to return to the fields, though they did so as free men and women. It was a simple case of necessity- he needed as much of the harvest as possible. Genosha had valuable material resources and huge potential with its new mutant citizenry, but it lacked for several important things. He needed to find a means of acquiring food and other supplies as quickly as possible.

He could not rely on most of the world’s institutions, of course. The World Bank and IMF were not going to fund him, and neither would most private investors. He’d made some quiet inquiries with other countries, but they’d mostly turned him down flat. Which left him with one remaining option, as far as he could tell. Magneto had summoned his daughter over for tea, and to ask her to go on a very important and dangerous diplomatic mission for him.

“You called, Father?” Wanda asked with a slightly enigmatic smile on her face, an expression that would worry most but brought honest happiness to his own heart. She’s herself again, quietly cunning and calculating. They tried to make a fool’s cavalier out of my clever, clever girl and they failed.

“Indeed, I did.” He gestured for her to sit down and she did. He reached over to pour her tea. “What is the most significant problem we have, Wanda?”

“Money. Food. A lot of the infrastructure survived relatively undamaged, though we’ve lost some valuable assets due to rioting.” Wanda added some milk to her tea and sipped delicately. “But we have no means of getting food, and our supplies will start running short in a few weeks. Harvest will help, but so much of Genosha’s land is bound up in cash crops. You can’t dine on wine alone. Sadly enough.”

“Which is why I need you to do something very important for me.” Magneto went on, sipping his own tea. “I want you to go to Latveria to convince Doctor Doom to give us his support. I would go myself, but I believe that Doom might actually listen to you.”

Wanda laughed for a moment, setting down her teacup. “Because I have the option of wearing a low-cut dress and asking very, very nicely?”

“Wanda.” Magneto replied with vague annoyance at her flippant response, though he knew she was teasing him. Mostly, anyway. “Because he would take my coming to Latveria as a threat. No doubt you will have to, as you say, ask very nicely. It goes without saying that we need the Bank of Latveria’s assistance, at least while we are rebuilding.”

“Hmm. You’re sending me off to the clutches of Doctor Doom and all you can spare me is some tea?” Wanda smiled playfully. “I’m disappointed, Father. But you’ll have your precious assistance.”

“And while you’re gone, as it happens, I will be hosting an old friend.” It was Magneto’s turn to smile enigmatically. “Charles Xavier wishes to speak to me. No doubt to dissuade me from the path I’ve started myself on.”

“Do you think the X-Men will be coming to Genosha?” Wanda asked, a little more seriously this time.

“I would be surprised if they didn’t, at some point. But Charles would not be so wicked as to attempt to lure me into a trap. And I for my own part will respect his right to enter and leave safely. They’re not our real enemies, after all.” Magneto took another long sip of his tea. “Charles was once a close of mine, almost a brother. I still hope that he will come to see things my way one day.”

Text/E-Mail from Bobby Drake, Re: All Faculty, X-Men Types:

Hopefully our big mopefest is over guys. Hank is coming and we’re going to have a surprise party. So stop moping and let’s make it a good one.

~ Your pal, Bobby Drake

Xavier Institute- Exterior:

It was easy enough to discern from the phone conversation that he’d had with Charles that there was considerable tension at the Mansion. In theory, Charles was offering Hank a position as the school’s medical doctor and also to teach some biology classes. But Hank knew better than that- Xavier was clearly hoping that he would also rejoin the new X-Men team and bestow some badly-needed measured logic on them. Well, no one could accuse my life of being boring, anyway.

A lot had changed since he’d last put on an X-Men uniform and gone out to fight supervillains last. He turned around and looked at himself in the mirror for a long moment. Back then, he’d looked essentially human, despite having unusually large hands and feet. But years later, his mutation had continued to develop. He’d become covered in fine, dark-blue fur, he’d developed sharp canines and claws, his arms had grown out of proportion with his legs. Overall, he’d developed a rather simian cast to his features. A Beast in fact as well as in name.

It’d cost him, personally. His parents would never have done anything so vulgar as to disown or ridicule him, but he could tell they had trouble adjusting to their son’s new appearance. Many of his friends had drifted away from him. His girlfriend at the time, Trish Tilby, had tried to make the relationship work, but the simple fact was- she wasn’t attracted, physically to his new form. He tried not to be too angry about that, and sometimes he almost succeeded, but it hurt, terribly. He was too well-known in his field to be fired or anything like that, but even professionally, he’d found it more difficult.

The worst part, though, were the inner changes. Along with the vastly increased strength and agility, the suddenly sharpened senses, came certain animalistic instincts that he’d never possessed before. Most of the time, Hank could conceal them artfully under a cultured, rational guise, but sometimes he found himself unable not to slip out of his apartment at night and prowl around the city. Not harming anyone- though he’d certainly frightened a few people with his sudden appearance, but simply to enjoy the gift of untrammeled motion.

It will be better for me here. I can continue my research and nobody will judge me. Still, however, Hank McCoy considered it a step back in many ways. He’d been successful out in the wider world, one of relatively few of his kind to have that happy claim- but now that things had changed, both internally and externally, he found himself coming back to the Institute.

After saying hello to the Professor at the gate, Hank padded over the long driveway and carefully manicured gardens of the Xavier Institute, before being buzzed into the door. All right, let’s see if anyone is here to greet me- he rounded the doorway into the main meeting hall and was immediately taken aback by the elaborate decorations that had been laid out. It was then that everyone popped out of their hiding places and called out “Welcome back, Hank!” in unison.

Oh my stars and garters. Hank couldn’t help but smile, just as what seemed like the planet’s entire mutant population was rushing up to hug, shake hands and say hello.

“Bro! FINALLY.” Bobby Drake broadly grinned and went over to hug his best friend, nearly bowling Hank over, despite Hank being far larger and stronger. “It’s gonna be so great having you around to harass and play jokes on and whine about all my life problems too.”

Hank couldn’t help but chuckle. “I swear, the more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s good to see you too, Bobby. And to see some smiles on people’s faces, despite what you told me about a few days ago.”

“Yeah, well, they knew I’d kick their asses if they didn’t show. But dude, seriously, you’ve been in this room for like two whole minutes and you haven’t even got any cake yet. What’s wrong with you?” Bobby grinned. “Besides, I can’t have any until you do. It’s some kind of rule.”

That made Hank laugh. “Ah, now it all makes sense. Very well, Robert, I will go get a piece of cake, if it will make you feel better.”

Castle Doom, Latveria:

Whatever else Wanda thought of being hosted by Doctor Doom, she could not fault his hospitality. She’d been escorted from the border by very polite guards, who had taken the time (though not too much) during the journey to the capital to show some of the sights. Latveria was certainly a picturesque country, all rolling hills and ancient oak forests, broken by quaint-looking agricultural villages and fat animals contentedly grazing.

Once she’d arrived at the castle, she’d been shown up to the private dining room where she was to receive an audience with Doom. The room that he’d chosen was far smaller than the banquet hall in which Doom often met with foreign dignitaries, several at a time. It was there that she was seated with all such politesse, until the Master, as they called him in Latveria arrived himself.

Doctor Doom arrived about ten minutes later, almost precisely at the appointed time. Wanda was aware that he could modify his vocal cadences precisely to the moment and was surprised that he chose one that was almost totally devoid of any amplification or distortion. Doom himself was an intimidating figure, his face almost totally hidden beneath a steely mask that acted like a second skin, his body covered in armor of similar make. As he arrived, food began to appear on the table along with a wonderfully crisp, dry white wine of local make. I recognize these from my childhood. Did he know?

“Of course I know. I always make certain to know all that I can about my guests.” Doom replied, in a neutral tone. “Hospitality is one of the most sacred virtues of this land, and its master needs to set a good example.”

“I’m certainly impressed.” Wanda replied sincerely. “Latveria is a very well-ordered land. The people look very happy and prosperous.”

“They are happy.” Doom corrected in a slightly arch tone. “They know that the reward for obedience is happiness. But let us get to business. Your father wants Latveria to lend assistance to Genosha. Why should we do this?”

“Aside from the gratitude of my father?” Wanda replied with a small smile. “Genosha has very valuable raw materials, including vibranium deposits that we are actually willing to trade. Latveria would receive preferential access to these materials in return for necessary assistance during the reconstruction period. You would also make an ally of a nation with a population of millions of mutants.”

Doom’s expression did not change at all, one way or the other. “I do not need allies, nor am I so in need of raw materials as you might suppose. However, my benevolence is great. I will grant you your request on two conditions.”

“And what is that condition, Lord Doom?” Wanda asked, curious, though the intense look he gave her at that moment sent a chill down her spine.

“If I desire a favor from your father, I expect to be granted it. Do not worry, my demands will not be unreasonable.” He looked at her and then smiled thinly. “My second condition, my dear, is that you agree, in due time, to be my lady consort. Go to your father and tell him this. I will grant you time time to consider, but I assure you, my assistance will not be forthcoming if my conditions are not met.”

Chapter Text

Washington DC:

“And what does the President intend to do with Magneto’s conquest of Genosha?” Sebastian asked Tessa intently. “I believe we have a golden opportunity to extend our influence, if we play our cards right. The mutant threat to American security has become both more immediate and conveniently externalized.” Sebastian brushed aside the hair from the back of her neck and pressed a couple of kisses there. “I expect Operation Wideawake to be accelerated. Make it happen, Tessa. Any means necessary. I know you have … influence with the President.” There was something a little off to Sebastian’s tone- was he becoming jealous? That would have been ridiculous, though. He had placed here there and furthermore, their relationship was hardly exclusive.

“Some.” Tessa replied offhandedly. She hadn’t intentionally seduced him, but she didn’t particularly regret having done so either. “I’ll see to it that Operation Wideawake is implemented as soon as possible.”

His arms looped around her and then drew her in tight. “We need to move quickly. There is treachery in the Club. Both Emma and Pierce are plotting against me.”

“You want a large-scale triumph, to impress upon them their proper status.” Tessa replied coolly, tilting her neck slightly to give him better access. “It might stay Emma’s hand for a time. But Pierce truly hates you. He won’t rest until you’re dead, and I suspect, many others as well.”

“Then I will destroy him.” Sebastian replied with a rough edge in his voice. “Perhaps I’ll make Emma a gift of his head to send her a message.”

“I believe such a gesture might be counterproductive.” Tessa replied mildly. “I do agree, though, that Pierce needs to be killed.”

“I’ll do it myself.” Sebastian growled as he slipped the straps of her dress off- at least he didn’t tear this one, I rather like it. “I’ll tear him limb to limb and everyone will know why I’m the master of the Hellfire Club. It’s mine, mine by right and by conquest.”

Hopefully I won’t have any too pressing business tomorrow, because I sincerely doubt I will be getting much sleep tonight. Not that Tessa particularly minded. She leapt up into his arms, strong arms that held her weight without any difficulty and kissed him aggressively, hoping that he got the hint. We can discuss concrete plans later. Right now, the last thing I want to is have a long discussion about work.

Xavier Institute:

“Good to have you back, Hank.” Logan smirked faintly, as he set down one of his cards and picked up another one. Not bad. “The poker club was starting to get a little thin. Tried to teach half-pint, but she’s got the worst poker face of anyone I ever met.”

Hank chuckled faintly. “Katherine is not one to hide her feelings.” He did the same, his own face virtually impassive. “I believe it is your turn … Remy?” The new … was he being groomed to be an X-Man or was he simply an adult student? He certainly took quickly to the suggestion of being invited to a poker game.

“That it is, homme.” Remy grinned broadly and picked up a card of his own. This one is good at keeping secrets, Hank observed. “Don’t worry, you’ll remember it soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep hinting you’re some sort of poker god. I’m lookin’ forward to clearin’ ya on that score.” Ben Grimm smirked faintly and lit up his own cigar. “Good ta see you again, Hank. Place needed a boost to its IQ.” He chuckled and picked up another card.

“Is it just me or does this room reek of testosterone?” Betsy smirked faintly, before picking up a card of her own. “That’s okay, boys. You can all console each other when I take all your hard-earned cash.” She cast an eye over each of them. She’d agreed not to use her telepathy on any of them, of course, but she could still pick up a few hints. Remy was liable to cheat if he weren’t watched carefully. Logan, she was pretty sure, had a decent hand. Ben didn’t.

And Hank McCoy? Well, that was a different business altogether. Unlike the others around her, Hank was a born and bred gentleman. She was fairly sure his hand wasn’t any great shakes, though. And a part of her had to admit that there was something strangely intriguing about him. I’ve never been opposed to a little hair on men, but he is a bit of a radical case, yes? She was sure, though, in part, it was the contrast that was interesting. He looked like he should be savage, but the truth was that he was witty, cultured and genuinely kind.

Betsy had to admit she wouldn’t mind the chance to get to know him a little better. Once she’d thoroughly destroyed him at poker of course. There was money on the line after all.

X-Mansion, Basement:

“... so how does this work?” Piotr asked, looking at the sheets in his hand. “What precisely is the goal of this game?”

“Whatever you want. It’s great.” Kitty smiled at him. After Hank’s party, they’d had a bit of a talk about their fight and things were okay. Good. Glorious. “You’re a paladin, though, so you’re probably into glorious and noble quests against evil.”

“Wait, if Piotr is a paladin, does that mean I can’t play a chaotic evil wizard?” Bobby pouted. “I had this great concept and everything, he was going to be like Mesmero the Wicked Awesome.”

“... the Wicked Awesome? Really immersive and evocative naming, Bobbers.” Kitty smirked. “Playing a tiefling rogue again, Kurt?”

Kurt chuckled. “Predictable, I know, but what can I say, stick with what one knows, yes?” Kurt grinned broadly.

Piotr sat down and looked the the character sheet in more detail. It wasn’t particularly easy to make sense of all of the numbers. In fact, it was safe to say he had no idea what they even meant. Do hit points have something to do with health? Strength, Dexterity, I understand those, but what is a saving throw? Kitty grinned and plopped herself into his lap, looking at the sheet with him.

“Don’t worry. It’s easier than it looks.” Kitty smiled warmly and gave him a quick kiss. “Basically, just relax and have fun pretending to be a brave, noble warrior who would … okay, you know what? Be yourself. But with a sword and vaguely magical powers instead of big metal muscles.”

“I think I can handle that.” Piotr chuckled. “Who do you play? Someone very brave and intelligent and ... flexible, no doubt.” He waggled his eyebrows slightly on the last count.  

“Oh ho, Mr. Rasputin .” Kitty grinned up at him. “I’m the Dungeon Master, Pete. That means I get to try to kill you with monsters and traps.”

“That isn’t very nice. Well, if the Dungeon Master is too mean to me, I know where she’s ticklish.” Piotr grinned back at her a little puckishly.

“So … happy as I am that you guys have kissed and made up, Mesmero the Wicked Awesome wants to put some orcs to sleep or something. And I’m sure that Not-Kurt the tiefling rogue here would like to get in on some monster-hunting action. So let’s get those dice out and nerd up!” Bobby grinned and broke out what were clearly a well-loved set of sapphire-blue dice.

Genosha, Presidential Palace:

Charles Xavier normally preferred to use an ordinary wheelchair to escape notice, but his slightly more elaborate hoverchair was probably more suitable for something like this. All the same, he knew well that he was giving himself up to Erik’s good graces. He would have to believe that he would be alllowed to come in, speak the truth and be allowed to leave without any difficulty. As he floated into the Great Hall, he was taken aback by how much Magneto had changed it in only a short time. Almost all the original interior work was gone, replaced by an interior almost completely covered in metal, so perfectly gleaming that it acted as a mirror.

“Do you like what I’ve done with the place, Charles?” Magneto asked, becoming visible sitting on a titanic steely throne about twenty feet above Charles. Charles was tempted to comment somewhat snarkily on the similarity of his throne to that of a well-known fantasy television series, but he kept it to himself. More worrying to him than HBO’s copyright, was Magneto’s embrace of megalomaniacal grandeur.

“What do you intend to do now that you’ve liberated this country, old friend? Or is it your intention to liberate them? You seem terribly comfortable with the trappings of autocratic power.” Charles noted a little dryly.

“The people of Genosha need someone to guide them into the future, Charles.” Magneto replied firmly. He then got up and using his magnetic powers, lowered the throne so they were sitting nearly level with each other. “Can you really say that I’ve done such a terrible thing here, Charles? I’ve freed millions from slavery. Only a very few Genoshans have been punished for this- a greater mercy than they deserve. The humans are free to leave or to stay here, as they wish.”

“As second-class citizens in a mutant state.” Charles raised his eyebrow. “Then again, I suppose you don’t mind that they slowly drift out of Genosha, do you?”

“Not at all.” Magneto replied candidly. “But we could argue about this for ages. You’ve come here for a more constructive purpose than that, I hope.”

“It’s not too late to work with people towards a peaceful solution, Magneto. No one desires the return of the Genoshan slavers, but neither do people wish to see an infamous mutant terrorist- as they see it, as the leader of a sovereign nation. You have a chance to stand aside and allow reconstruction to go ahead in a fair and equal regime.”

Magneto listened quietly until he was finished and then immediately started laughing derisively. “No, old friend. I will not stand aside. And the world had best learn how to accept Genosha as it is now, or the current peace will be shortlived indeed. No. I will not move on- to where, anyway? I will stay right here, where I can direct the future of mutantkind. And to make myself clear to you, and to anyone else you might tell, Genosha is the mutant state and the interests of all mutants around the world tie to us. Any move against mutants by anyone will be taken as an attack on our nation.”

“Erik … the world will not accept you. Or will it readily accept a mutant state.” Charles looked up at him. “Please, Erik, understand that the decisions you make now will affect our kind for the rest of time. We must make wise decisions on behalf of mutantkind.”

“Our kind … our kind. You dare speak like that when you hide yourself from the world? But do not worry, Charles. The days of your hypocrisy are at an end.” Magneto slowly smiled, an expression that transfixed Charles with intense dread.

“Oh do not worry, Charles. You will have safe passage back to your precious school. I expect, though, that you’ll have quite a few questions to answer, once I release this conversation to the public.” Magneto looked down at Charles with an imperious grin stretching across his face. “Perhaps soon, you will reconsider whose side you are actually on.”

White House:

The President slumped back in his chair, suddenly exhausted in both body and soul, looking at the documents for Operation Wideawake, the ink of his signature drying on it. It meant that in mere days, Sentinels would be activated and begin patrolling for rogue mutant activity in the United States, but also that a cadre of Sentinels would be reserved for defence against foreign mutant incursions, now that Genosha had been established as a mutant nation. While the Sentinels could be activated or deactivated by handlers at any time, they would operate primarily under their own AI. Goddammit, Magneto. I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand.

He heard a knock on the door and nodded for Tessa to come in, which she did, sitting down across from him and quickly scanning over the papers. After she did so, she looked up at him, a hand reaching out to brush against his arm.

“You did the right thing, Mr. President.” Tessa said in a reassuring voice.

“I damn well hope so.” The President replied. “Maybe if we do this, we can head off things before the maniacs get ahold of the mutant issue. No doubt Sebastian will be happy.”

“He will be relieved, yes. But right now I’m more concerned about you, sir. I suggest that you get out of the office. It’s a little late for golf, but you could always take your wife out to dinner or to a movie. I can make any arrangements you need made.” Tessa gazed at him for a long moment. “For what it’s worth, Mr. President, I appreciate that this was a very difficult decision to make you. And strange as this might sound, I’m glad it was. It shouldn’t be an easy decision to make. Operation Wideawake is not a blessing, let’s be honest, it’s a necessary evil.”

The President nodded. “... you know, we’ve had our ups and downs, but you’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’d do without you, these days.” He sighed. “I should go home. Haven’t spent much time there since the Genoshan crisis broke. But I don’t feel … it doesn’t feel wright. I feel compromised. I don’t know how good of a family man I could be.”

“Alternatively, sir, I know where one could easily acquire some very, very fine bourbon.” Tessa smiled a bit thinly. “That is, if you enjoy the idea of getting drunk right now. I have to admit it’s a bit of an appealing notion, myself.”

The President nodded. “Yeah. Having some drinks sounds good. I’ll make the official pronouncement about Operation Wideawake tomorrow. Afternoon. Not morning. I have an appointment with a hangover tomorrow morning.” He chuckled, but it came out rather humorlessly.

Mutant Town:

The situation ever since Magneto had successfully taken over Genosha had deteriorated considerably, with scuffles between local mutants and police officers becoming more and more frequent and large areas of Mutant Town effectively abandoned by the authorities as the situation grew more and more untenable. As the authorities had been retreating slowly from the area, mutant gangs and militias had become more and more common.

The Omegas were only one of those groups, though Quentin liked to think they were probably the first and certainly the most important group of their kind. The best, certainly, though I guess it’s not really a competition. As it happened, the Omegas were having a clandestine meeting with one of the other mutant gangs, some group called the Morlocks that apparently liked to hang out in some abandoned subway station underneath Mutant Town. Whatever, it’s cool, I guess.

“Hey, Redneck, Glob, Angel, keep your eyes peeled. In case things go south.” Not that he thought they would. They had a shared agenda, after all. Mutant Town to the fuckin’ mutants. Time the city buggered off for good.

“You speak as if you did not want things to deteriorate, Sir Knave.” Callisto practically purred, coming out of dark shadows, strangely invisible to Quentin’s telepathy. “I was under the impression you came here with the cloak of Mars, ready to write our destiny with a bloody quill.”

“Damn right I want to fuck shit up, baby.” Quentin replied with a cocksure grin. “I’m getting really, really tired of sitting around and waiting for them to come take us away. I figure we take what we need now, before they’re ready to sick the giant killbots on us. And smaller ones too, ones that can follow you into your precious tunnels.”

“I’faith, I am weary to death of hiding from humans who despise us.” Callisto replied. “How many followers do you have?”

“About a dozen in the Omega Gang itself, but trust me, when we start kicking up a shitstorm, others will follow. You?” Quentin looked around. She’d clearly brought a couple of followers, one particularly large looking fellow and another, paler individual who looked at them with huge colourless eyes.

“A few dozen outfitted for war, but hundreds more under my care.” Callisto tilted her head slightly, her one good eye gleaming slightly mischievously. “You will raise your banners, then? Paint anarchy’s crimson hue on the streets? I will not commit mine own until I see the cause is worthy.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, baby. Don’t you worry about that. You’ll have your fuckin’ anarchy.” Quentin smirked smugly. “People are ready to rise up. And across that sea, there sits Magneto. Far as I’m concerned, he’s the only guy with any right to tell us to do things.”

“I prefer to take my own counsel, Sir Knave, but be that as it will, I look forward to seeing this riot of yours. When do you intend to begin? I hope it is soon. I grow weary with inaction.” Callisto occupied her hands with a pair of extremely sharp blades.

“Tomorrow night.” Quentin replied and then smirked, looking her up and down. Yeah, she was a little older than he was, but the whole punk goddess thing and the eyepatch? He could definitely get into that. “But you know, if you want to get something else started …”

“You’d best hold your tongue lest I take your stones.” Callisto countered with a grin that didn’t look at all friendly. “Like a blushing virgin, there’s another whom I await. Tomorrow night, then, Sir?”

“Twenty-four hours from now, babe, we are gonna light it up.” Quentin grinned broadly. “That’s a promise.”

X-Mansion:

Charles Xavier had a massive, throbbing headache, one that he knew would not go away anytime soon, regardless of what medication he took. If Erik … If Magneto, for clearly that was whom the man preferred to be known as now told the world about him being a mutant, it would create a panic. It would positively endanger him and everyone he worked with. It wasn’t about whether choosing not to reveal his identity was morally right or not, it was simply that the revelation of that fact, particularly now would result in a lot of very serious problems.

He knew that his credibility as a ‘neutral’ observer was gone, almost immediately and Magneto went so far as to specify his mutation, it would cast even graver doubts in the minds of many. It would make the situation with the school seem clannish and exclusionary, even though he’d never mandated that only mutants attend either the Xavier Institute for the Gifted or the Institute for Higher Education. He suspected that many of the relatively few non-mutant students in the school would end up leaving, either due to their parents’ perceptions or by their fears of social reaction.

Charles Xavier took a deep breath and then took a sip of his tea. It was right then, exactly when he expected, that Scott, Ororo and Hank came in- the most senior members of the X-Men and all people whom he trusted implicitly. He gestured for them to sit down.

“As some of you no doubt anticipated, my discussion with Magneto did not go well. To be blunt, I believe he is committed to building and expanding upon Genosha as soon as possible. He has, furthermore, made clear that he intends to tell the world that I am a mutant.”

Scott’s jaw set hard. An expression of deep concern flickered across Ororo’s face. Hank, for his part, removed his spectacles and looked like he was considering an answer for some time.

“Charles, if he is so intent on telling the world anyway, it may not be unwise for you to preempt his announcement. I understand very well the utilitarian value of your cover, but it would be amiss for me to say that there are those who do not appreciate it overmuch, in the student body. Or the faculty. Perhaps, some hard truths are in order? Even if the timing is wretched.” Hank finally said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Are we sure that’s not what Magneto wants?” Scott asked, brow furrowed.

“I admit that I do not know him as well as you all do. However, he does not seem to be the sort of man who makes idle threats.” Ororo pointed out. “I think Hank is right, in that the only realistic solution is to address the issue straightaway.”

Scott nodded. “Control the narrative as much as possible. Magneto wants it to become a dualism. You versus him. He feels confident that he can win that argument in the hearts and minds of mutants, and unlike us, he cares little what non-mutants think.”

Charles sighed- they were right, even if it was difficult for him to get up and make the call. “Well, at least Ms. Tilby will be happy about this.”

“... I suppose so. Why does the only reasonably sympathetic figure in the press just have to be my ex-girlfriend?” Hank shook his head, managing a tiny smile at the absurdity of it. “Small world, I suppose.”

Genosha:

“He said … what?” Magneto’s eyes narrowed. “And what did you tell him, Wanda?”

Wanda looked at him levelly. “I told him I would consider his offer. And I am. If it’s really so essential that we receive his help, is it truly the worst offer. He made it certain he expects little of me, personally. In any case, Doom said he will grant a year’s time for me to assist you in sorting out business on Genosha.”

“Time to renegotiate, I suppose.” Magneto replied. “Would you truly marry that man? Latveria is not your place. Genosha is.”

“I would consider doing so if it were necessary.” Wanda paused. “Is it really so much worse than anything else we’ve done to secure this mutant homeland?”

“Perhaps not.” Magneto finally answered, though it was clear from his tone that he did not like the idea one bit. “In any case … there are more immediate concerns. The American government has moved to initiate Operation Wideawake. Sentinels will be unleashed upon the streets of America, to hunt down our people like dogs and throw them in camps.” The entire throne room began to vibrate at a slightly strange pitch. Wanda could feel his anger as a palpable force, buzzing about in her teeth.

“How do you intend to answer this provocation, Father?” Wanda asked, her own anger cooller than his own.

“I had entertained hopes of leaving America and its President largely to its own devices. This will clearly have to change.” Magneto looked over at Wanda. “They will expect me to strike in New York, in Mutant Town. We will do everything we can to encourage that perception. But our real target will be Washington.”

“For what purpose, precisely?” Wanda raised her eyebrow.

“I want the President, alive- for the time being. There are also … figures in the government and the military-industrial complex I want eliminated. By unleashing the Sentinels, the American government has declared war on all mutants.” Magneto’s eyes flashed with righteous anger. “History will record that I did not start this war. But it will be written that I finished it.”

Washington DC:

It had been a good week for Senator Kelly so far- the President’s poll numbers had tanked with the tankover of Genosha by Magneto and the implementation of Operation Wideawake was being successfully spun as a half-measure. Kelly’s own numbers had improved considerably and there had been a sizeable shift on the mutant issue among important sectors of the American public.

There was certainly a part of him that felt that it was wrong to exult over the very real and understandable fear of his fellow citizens. He reminded himself, though, that it was necessary and really only a symptom of people discovering the grim truth that had been hidden from them by others. The bad taste of Creed’s lamentable performance against Xavier was already fading from the public consciousness and Creed himself had learned some necessary restraint.

One of the few things that concerned him, still, was Charles Xavier. Xavier was a likeable, intelligent man who knew how to play to an audience without letting them see that he was pandering. Kelly tended to regard the man as well-meaning but misguided- but dangerously so, because he led other people down the path to compromise. Xavier’s numbers had remained solid in the developing situation so far, and an upcoming appearance on the Colbert Report was going to do nothing to change that, particularly with young people. Charles polled very, very well with 18-34 year olds, Kelly had to admit to his chagrin.

He was currently in a diner, pondering his next move. He had a meeting with his exploratory committee, though he’d long since committed to making a move- it was more about finding potential fundraising and identifying political allies. Events had done a fine job of galvanizing his campaign, with the President’s credibility falling further and further. If only something similar could happen with Xavier … it was then that his eyes wandered up to a live television broadcast from ANN.

When he read the byline on the news ticker his eyes immediately widened and he reached in his pocket to get the phone. He immediately dialled Reverend Stryker. Will has to know this, immediately.

“Reverend? Are you watching the news?” Kelly immediately blurted out, without even the most recent pleasantries. “You won’t believe what I’m seeing.”

“Hold on.” Stryker replied and then all Kelly could hear for a moment was heavy breathing. “... I knew it. No man could be so misguided as Xavier. He’s a mutant. The enemy.” He emphasized the word enemy to suggest it had spiritual dimensions as well as political ones. Kelly wasn’t sure if he quite bought into the Reverend’s worldview on that score. But it did mark Xavier as a dangerous and subversive political actor. “Bob, you need to pounce on this. The secular media dismisses me, but they won’t dismiss you. Let me handle the other dimensions of this.”

“The other dimensions?” Kelly hesistated before asking.

“Bob, do not be mistaken about what we face here. We are at war. You fight the mutant enemy in the political arena. That is your gift and your calling. I need you to trust me, Bob. And don’t inquire too far. Some things are going to happen and I want you to be able to deny them. Stay the course. Your nation needs you. Your species needs you to stay strong and on course. Can you do that?” Stryker asked, his tone dead serious.

Kelly took a deep breath and then nodded. “I’ll drum up a political whirlwind, Will. I don’t know why Xavier chose this moment to reveal his true identity, but I’ll ensure he loses every ounce of credibility he’s gained on the Hill.”

“Good.” Stryker replied. “Jesus be with you. Talk to Him, and then get on the phone to everyone you know. Everyone. Even the people who respected him. Many of them, God willing, will be changing their minds.”

“Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me, Will. I’ll talk to you soon. We’ll do lunch sometime.” Kelly promised, before considering who he was going to call first.

Xavier Institute for Higher Education, Mutant Town:

Yesterday’s revelation that Charles Xavier was secretly a mutant had placed a strange pall on the community, but one thing that Ali Blaire never, ever did was cancel a concert, not if she had the ability to sing even a single note. A few members of her band were nervous, but they’d been relieved somewhat when Charles had sent them a pair of handpicked security officers, both superpowered mutants in their own right, who had been police officers until very recently.

Ali strummed a few chords on her guitar, unable not to smile slightly as the sounds translated into faint sparkles and whorls of light in the air. She strummed a little harder and both the sounds and images became clearer, louder. When she started to sing, the light surrounded her like a halo, with streamers of it breaking off from her, floating up into the air, and falling down like rain. She turned up the amplifier and a cascade of brilliant sparks, almost like fireworks, came shooting out of her speakers.

At least the light show works. Hopefully the techs have the stage set up properly.

“... Ms. Blaire?” Her manager called out to her. “You got another package from that Arcade guy. Five dozen roses and another huge diamond necklace … you want me to sell it for charity again?”

Ali sighed harshly and nodded. “Yeah, Ben. Give half to the rebuilding fund for the mutant shelter and, maybe the other half to that Girls Rock music education program? Did the creep send a note this time or does he think there’s some sort of price I put on my love? And why the hell haven’t we figured out who he is?”

“Whoever he is, he’s good at covering his tracks online. Really good. And rich too, because this is probably ten thousand dollars of necklace.” Her manager considered it for a moment. “Look, if this guy ever shows his face, he’ll be in a cell faster than you can say ‘stalker’. We’ll find the creep.”

“Yeah, soon, I hope.” Ali shook her head a little. “Anyway, I got a show. The weird bullshit of my personal life can wait for awhile. These people need some cheering up, yeah?”

“Well, if anyone can deliver on that, it’s you, Ali. We’re live in two hours.” Her manager managed a small grin. “We’re expecting a big crowd. Not too many reasons to celebrate here, lately.”

Ali played a few notes on her guitar before launching into a brief solo. “Well, it’s time they got some Dazzler in their ears, then. Because we’re gonna rock their world.”

Xavier Institute for Higher Education, Central Square:

“... you can stop grinnin’ like a loon, half-pint. This is a job.” Logan scowled, lighting up his third cigar of the night. Damn, I should have brought a few bottles of Crown. I’m gonna need it after listenin’ to this crap for two hours.

“Shut up, this is the best job ever. I mean, barring some disaster, it’s a nice night and I get to see Dazzler. For free. And maybe even go backstage and get an autograph. Logan, I could meet her.” Kitty gushed with a giant grin on her face. “My favorite. And I’m basically her security. I mean, we’re almost working for her.”

“Thought you liked Rush.” Logan noted gruffly, before taking a long puff of his cigar.

“... I do! They’re my favorite old band. But Dazzler is current, Dazzler is now , Logan.” Kitty grinned and took a sip from what was, out of unfortunate necessity, a Coke. “Anyway, you’re gonna just have to put up with my fangirlism, because we’re here until an hour after the show ends.”

Logan tried his best after that to tune Kitty out. He had a distinctly bad feeling about this- was it really a good idea to have a major public gathering with so many things going on? Logan understood that people probably needed something to lift their spirits. Just have a real feeling that nothing good’s gonna come out of tonight. A big, mostly but far from entirely mutant crowd meant huge potential for a confrontation. If he were a Purifier, he’d probably pick this out as an ideal time to strike, to say nothing about if the Brotherhood or its sympathizers struck again.

Logan’s hand itched, the way it often did when he knew that trouble was brewing. He knew it was essentially psychological, but it still felt real. It was the feeling of his claws when they knew they were going to come out. Sometimes, he was certain, when they wanted to come out. Annoying as Kitty’s idealism can be sometimes, sometimes I wish I could be that innocent. Logan knew that was a little unfair and not really true- the girl had seen her share of tough shit go down in her life, but she’d never killed another person. Or watched someone she loves die, because of who you are. The trouble you bring.

He took a long puff of his cigar. At this rate, before the night was over, he was going to go through a solid dozen of them. Part of him actually wished that something would go down, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the prolonged misery of a terrible pop concert and an excessively excitable young woman. At least if someone’s trying to kill me with a gun or a knife I can fight back.

It was then that he saw the big guy out of the corner of his eye, moving with real purpose through the crowd. Logan sniffed the air- he didn’t recognize the scent personally, but he knew the look of trouble when he saw it. And the little punk with him smelled even worse- and that wasn’t just the hideously enormous quantity of Old Spice the kid was wearing, either. It was the smell of someone who wanted to start something big. The arrogant sneer on the kid’s face didn’t look any better.

Logan decided that he’d keep a close eye on those two. Could be they’re just looking for a brawl or something. It was just then that the sound levels began to kick up dramatically as the opening act began to play. Which also meant that the crowds were going to get a lot thicker.

Elsewhere near the Concert:

Hank had long ago got used to being stared at, being considered a freak by those who hated mutants and as a curiosity even by those who more sympathetic. In truth, he could understand their attitudes to a considerable extent. He didn’t really look anything like an ordinary human being. He’d got used to it, he liked to tell himself, but he always noticed it.

He was very, very aware then that his erstwhile partner had been looking at him nearly the entire time. It had been understandable at first, but it was beginning to get frustrating, and when he’d turned around to look at her, she didn’t even bother to avert her eyes. A low little growl came from his throat.

“Yes, I am exceptionally large, blue and furry. It is still exceedingly impolite to stare like that, Ms. Braddock.” Hank turned around, that low growl carrying through the rest of his tone.

And then? She laughed, a husky, silky sound and her eyes watched his. “My apologies, Dr. McCoy. I was just curious about something.”

“... and what, pray tell is that?” Hank asked, his eyebrow raised but his tone still slightly annoyed.

“I was wondering about your fur.” Betsy elucidated, a thin smile playing at her lips, and Hank didn’t think it was fair that she was so outrageously attractive, because it was making being properly annoyed more and more difficult.

“Fine.” Hank sighed, waving vaguely with his hand. “What do you want to know about my fur?”

“I want to know if it’s soft. It looks soft, Doctor.” Betsy replied, her think smile turning into a wicked grin.

Oh.

It was not all that common for Hank to have one of those ‘light bulb’ moments that other people typically assumed that he had all the time. Either he figured out a problem quickly due to prior knowledge or he had to apply himself for a period to understand the issue at hand. Inspiration paled in importance to perseverance and the benefits of an excellent education. But every once in awhile, something happened and things became so much clearer. Suddenly, rather than being annoyed at Betsy staring at him, Hank was decidedly flattered. More than flattered, really. The word ‘flattered’ was weak and inadequate by comparison.

“Not without dinner and a movie first.” Hank grinned right back.

Betsy rolled her eyes but then smiled at him. “Late night Thai, after the concert?”

“It would be my pleasure, Ms. Braddock.” Hank replied with a broad grin, offering her his arm. “Shall we get into place for the show?”

“Let’s.” Betsy grinned brilliantly at him.

Front and Centre, Dazzler Concert:

Quentin Quire absolutely, positively, fucking hated Dazzler. Her insidious and miserable melodies had this horrible habit of sticking in his head, even though her music was a pathetic joke. He slipped on his favorite Spider Jerusalem glasses, the ones that made him feel like a badass rebel, about to unload truth. Which he was. He was going to crash this ridiculous, loathsome party and make his place in history.

Even Magneto in freaking Genosha will know my name when this is all said and done. I’m the fuckin’ spark that is going to start this fire.

The crowd was occupied, mindless sheep eagerly lapping up the corporate shit-pop that they were being spoon-fed. He knew that his moment was nearing, the time at which Quentin Quinn Quire- his parents loved alliteration- was going to make his debut on the world stage. From now on, he wasn’t going to be known as Quentin Quire, miserable punk and general failure. He took a breath and started climbing up on stage. Some of Dazzler’s security moved to intercept him, but then they couldn’t see him, as if he’d disappeared.

Score one for telepathy, motherfuckers!

He climbed up triumphantly onto the stage where a stunned Dazzler turned around, ready to do her horrible mutant thing when he blasted her, full in the face with a psionic shotgun that appeared instantly in his hand. With a swift little move, he blasted two more of her guards. All three of them then lay around him, motionless. The band, and any others on the stage started running. Quentin grabbed the microphone.

“My name is Kid Omega and tonight, Mutant Town belongs to us! Fuck the government! Fuck Xavier! Fuck peace! Fuck lying and hiding! We’re going to take what belongs to us! WHO IS WITH ME?!?!”  

Morlock Tunnels:

A thin woman with outsized ears finally opened her eyes after long concentration and turned towards Callisto. “The punk has made his move. There is chaos at the university campus.”

Callisto smirked thinly. “Then, we rise! Stand up, brother and sister Morlocks, for tonight, we seize the very heavens! The sun and stars wilt be ours again, as it should always have been! No longer will we need to be masked and hidden in these hellish warrens! On this night, we go to claim what is truly ours!”

Callisto’s speech was met with a lusty roar from the Morlocks, men and women that she’d chosen for their strike force. Quire and his Omega Gang would draw attention, law enforcement, any superheroes- but in truth, it was her and the Morlocks that were far more dangerous and numerous. Quire’s gang had their delusions of grandeur, but the Morlocks were fuelled by something far more dangerous and powerful- desperation, poverty, and hatred for those who dwelled upon the surface, those who oppressed their kind.

The Morlocks came out of their sewers, intent on wreaking havoc and seizing power in Mutant Town. She’d handpicked a crew of Morlocks to go with her on a special mission, into a facility owned by Shaw Industries in Mutant Town, where data had been collected on mutants for years, where it was rumoured, long-running experiments on mutants occurred. She took out two knives, eager to test their sharpness against the flesh of those that would use her people, and others, just as she’d been so cruelly used years ago.

Whatever does not kill me makes me stronger.

Oh, my dear, we will see about that.

Callisto could still hear that voice in her nightmares, feel those long fingers touching her, his scalpel drawing itself delicately along her flesh. Removing parts, augmenting others. She remembered the Doctor, sipping tea nonchalantly as she bled and screamed on the operation table. He would discuss, dispassionately, the merits of a particular brand of wine as his men tortured and experimented on her. She remembered him calmly explaining, as a parent would to a confused child, that he’d taken eggs from her and fertilized them- that he’d made her children. And then how one day, his mercenaries shot her and threw her out on the streets to die.

One day I will find him, Callisto swore, even if I must crash down the very gates of Hell. I will exact from him everything he took from me. I’ll put him to every test and torment that man or woman can devise and then, only when he begs for death’s kiss, brokenly begs like a starving dog, will I finally slide my steely blade through his ribs into his butcher’s heart.

“Sunder, takest thou the rear. Berserker, Marrow, you must watch over our sides. Caliban, stay close and tell me if you scent our kind. Hemingway and the rest of you, now is the time to vent our spleen upon an unsuspecting world! Morlocks … forward!”

Chapter Text

Xavier Institute, Mutant Town:

Almost immediately after the pink-haired punk had stepped on the stage, things had gone straight to Hell. Logan had almost immediately been jumped by a pair of blue mutants with strange smoking skin. They’d managed to grasp him briefly and he’d felt his skin freeze, but what they didn’t count on was that his healing factor would resist it long enough for him to break free, and that those claws of his were more than capable of slicing through any manner of flesh.

I’m pretty sure they’ll live. Not that I care that much, really. But I’ll play nice. For now.

For the most part, however, the crush had become so intense that Logan didn’t really even have room to use his claws properly, he mostly relied on adamantium-reinforced knuckles and determination to batter down one rioter after another. He suspected that the punk, whoever he was, was doing something to the crowd, because they shouldn’t all be this damn violent. He turned around to see Kitty scampering through the crowd towards the stage, probably trying to see if Dazzler and her security crew were all right.

He turned around to dodge a beer bottle being brought down against his head and was slightly surprised to see his would-be attackers fainting away, about six or seven of them at a time. He was relieved, though, to see that it was Braddock behind it, who looked a little rumpled but unhurt, all things considered. Immediately behind her was Hank.

“Good ta see you two. Half-pint’s checking on Dazzler and the crew. If we can get any of `em up, we might get some extra reinforcements.” Logan cracked his knuckles. “Any luck callin’ reinforcements? Sure wouldn’t mind seein’ Roro or Petey right about now.”

“I managed to contact the Professor via telepathy.” Betsy replied. “Damned bastards. I had a date planned for tonight.”

“As it happened, so did I. Perhaps we’ll have to reschedule our respective dates?” Hank couldn’t help but smile slightly. “But first, we have a riot to quell, somehow. Elisabeth, how many people can you affect at once?”

“Not enough.” Betsy replied. “The crowd was already angry and tense. Quire just has to nudge them. I’d have to bring them down a long way. We need to find the little arse and take him down.”

Logan sniffed the air. “Bad news. More mutants and they’re smelling pissed-off as all hell. And like they’ve been in a sewer.”

Concert Stage:

Ali felt like she’d been hit with a ton of bricks and then exposed to every single bad memory she’d ever had, including that time when the dentist forgot anesthetic, the time she’d had to stand outside alone in the rain for two hours because her parents had forgot to pick her up and that time she’d accidentally eaten all those spiked brownies. All at once. She groggily sat up.

“... where’s that little punk?” She mumbled, to a blurry form that was beginning to resemble a brunette wearing a Dazzler tank top and jeans.

“Oh my God. How do you feel?” The girl asked, and Ali realized that she was clearly a huge fan.

“Horrible.” Ali got shakily to her feet and then instantly regretted it.

“Yeah, you should. Because you fucking suck!” Quentin crowed in triumph, as he came out from the shadows and immediately fired another blast from his glowing cannon. However, Ali was taken out of the way of the blast and down through the floor to under the stage.

“You should be safe here, for awhile.” The girl said. “... and that guy’s an idiot. You’re the best. I’m Kitty Pryde, by the way.”

Ali nodded faintly. “Nice to meet you … but …” She shook her head, as if getting rid of the nightmarish thoughts. “I shouldn’t just stay out of this. Fans of mine are suffering here. Hey, are you one of the X-Men?”

“... yeah. The junior member, I guess.” Kitty replied.

Ali grinned. “Big fan of your work. What’s your superhero name?”

“Shadowcat.” Kitty replied with wide eyes. “No way. You can’t be a fan- I mean, you can, but … that’s so damn cool. I’m a fan of yours.”

“I gathered.” Ali smirked faintly. “C’mon, Shadowcat. Let’s go find that jackass. Nobody disses me like that. Or shoots weird mind guns at me.”

Kitty phased them up on the other side of the stage, with Quentin still almost comically looking for them. Ali whistled as loudly as she could and just as he turned around to blast them both with his strange glowing weapon, the punkish mutant was hit by a blinding flash of light. Before he had any chance to recover, Kitty had closed the difference between them, delivering a lightning-swift roundhouse kick right to the jaw that sent the mutant telepath to the floor, completely and utterly unconscious.

“... Shadowcat, huh?” Ali whistled, impressed .”Are all of you X-Men ninjas like that?”

Kitty looked down at the crowd, which didn’t seem to be calming down any. In fact, it looked like a significantly greater number of hostile mutants had joined in, fanning out to destroy parts of the campus. Her jaw set.

“... you wanna do the X-Man for a day thing? Because we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Near the Xavier Institute Campus:

“So basically a bunch of our friends are surrounded by yet another hostile mob of our fellow mutants. Oh wonderful. Man, people love us.” Bobby sighed. “Well, what’s the plan, fearless leader.”

Scott looked at Ororo. “I want you to get airborne and try and cool this crowd down. Might not stop them completely, but some freezing rain might slow them down some. The rest of us, we’ll need to get into the mix to figure out what’s happening. Kurt, run recon. Bobby, get ready to set up barriers, slides, anything that can get us to control their movement. Piotr, get ready to clear us a path through the crowd.”

he X-Men didn’t get far, however, before they were faced with a large collection of angry-looking mutants, several of them armed with improvised weapons. Ororo and Kurt’s eyes opened wide in recognition.

“Callisto … what is the meaning of this?” Ororo asked, her eyes narrowing in anger. “You’re putting all of your people in grave danger.” The skies darkened and cold rain began to fall all around them.

“Your sorcery doth not frighten me, neither do your fellow villains.” Callisto’s own eyes narrowed and she grinned maliciously, brandishing her knives. “I am sorry, though, fair lord. I’d hoped we could dance upon a more horizontal plane. But Mars must suffice where Venus failed.”

The assembled Morlocks, at least a dozen of them closed onto the X-Men, one of them firing an arc of vicious-looking electricity at Scott, another one hurling raging flames at Bobby. A singularly massive Morlock advanced towards Piotr, cracking his knuckles in rough glee, clearly looking forward to a fight. Scott managed to blast the electricity-producing Morlock away from him, but he frowned. We’re badly outnumbered and we haven’t even got into the thick of the riot.

“Hey Tinman!” Sunder called out brashly, moving over to Piotr, who armoured up defensively. “I hear you’re the big tough guy on the team.”

“I am often called such, yes.” Piotr replied in a flat tone.

“Yeah, well … you’re just a little man who’s gonna get their ass kicked!” Sunder crowed out triumphantly as he swung his fist with surprising speed right into Piotr’s chest- though the sound that stuck out was the sound of shattering bones and a sudden howl of agony as Sunder immediately staggered back, cradling a bleeding and obviously badly broken hand. It took less than a second for Piotr’s own blow to decisively knock the big Morlock out.

Not all of the X-Men were having such an easy time as Piotr, however, Scott had yet to be able to hit Callisto with anything, and she’d advanced steadily closer. Kurt teleported in to intercept her, but she managed, somehow, to elbow him in the split second that he had manifested before he was to teleport again, winding the German mutant. Bobby was too busy with the fiery mutant to do anything about it and Storm was high above the fray at the moment.

Callisto flitted to the side and Scott let loose another optic blast, only to realize that he’d been tricked into shooting Piotr. Scott doubted the optic blast would do him any real harm, but it also meant that Piotr was blasted a good distance away from where he needed to be. Scott cursed under his breath as Callisto got even closer. He braced, ready to defend himself, but in a blur too quick for him to register, all he felt was cold metal slicing across his arm and shoulder, the steely kiss biting deep into his flesh.

The last thing he saw was a steel-toed boot striking up towards his face, before everything went black.  

Xavier Institute Campus:

The arrival of a small army of Morlocks had changed the tenor of the riot, from something that was simply an expression of frustration and anger, goaded by a telepath, into a corrosive display of deeply seated anger and hatred. The local authorities had made themselves conspicuous through their absence, for all intents and purposes, it was the X-Men who represented any force of law and order.

The situation had degenerated into a stalemate, though Ororo feared that the longer it lasted, the more the tide of battle would favor the more numerous Morlocks. Retreat, however, was not an option. To do so would be leave not only the Xavier Institute campus open to wanton destruction, it would convince all who were observing the situation that mutants had no ability or will to police themselves. The crackdown that followed, most likely, would be a brutal one.

And one harder on the Morlocks than anyone else, she knew. She didn’t know why Callisto had chosen this moment to rise up, but surely she knew that the Morlocks could not win, even if they defeated the X-Men. What is their goal? Magneto’s agenda was a clear one, and he had the power to make it a reality. The Morlocks had neither advantage. The aftermath would be a devastating one for them, apocalyptic.

There is only one way to stop this, Storm decided. With a crack of lightning, she settled down to the ground, facing Callisto.

“This madness must end.” Ororo warned her grimly.

“... an’ while I have the crown, my storm will rage on.” Callisto replied with a half-crazed grin. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“I challenge you to a duel. For the leadership of the Morlocks.” Ororo replied coolly.

“What? With your weather witchery? Hardly a contest of honor.” Callisto spat. “If you’ll meet me, do it with knives. I’ll even give you one of mine.”

“Very well.” Ororo’s face took on a grim cast. She glared around at the other X-Men. “Leave me alone.”

Callisto smirked coldly and tossed a knife into the air towards Ororo, which she caught handily. Ororo’s eyes narrowed as she saw the blade, stained with blood. The fighting around them had stopped, which did allow Hank to tend to the broad slash on Scott’s arm. The expression on her face changed to something that none of the other X-Men had seen before on her, something hard and ruthless.

“... hold on, why are you doin’ this, `Roro?” Logan barked out. “We can take `em.”

“And then what, Logan? They are defeated and arrested. Police come to steal the children and old people. They lose everything, their entire community, gone in a heartbeat. The Morlocks need a new leader.” Ororo ripped off a strip of her uniform and washed the blade clean.

“Your greed reeks to the highest of heavens. I think the only scent that shall wash it clean is your blood!” Callisto crowed as she moved towards, Ororo, her blade flashing as she made exploratory jabs, ones that Ororo countered, though her own attacks were just as easily dodged by Callisto.

“Uh, what happens … what happens if Ororo loses?” Bobby asked nervously.

“Then I cut Callisto’s guts out. ” Logan replied, his voice a low growl in his throat. “Roro’s got it, though.”

Ororo did not quite share Logan’s confidence. She was gratified to find out that her old skills were as sharp as ever, but the brutal fact of the matter was that Callisto was stronger, faster and probably the more experienced fighter out of the two. She has only one weakness. She’s bound by her honour. Ororo didn’t exactly enjoy fighting dirty, but if it meant she could save the Morlocks, end the riot and walk away from the fight? A breeze so subtle it was nearly invisible brought a fine dust of broken glass, shattered rocks and ordinary sand which she flung fully into Callisto’s face.

Callisto cried out in pain as the fine dust got into her eyes, nose, mouth- Ororo knew that Callisto would recover in time, but she was certain the pain would’ve been horrifying. Ororo took the chance to drive her knee into Callisto’s gut. When the Morlock woman crumpled to the ground, Ororo stabbed Callisto’s wrist into the asphalt, forcing her to let go of the blade in that hand.

“... you’ve taken your prize.” Callisto managed to get out, with blood oozing from her mouth. “Send me screaming to the devil an’ you’ll have mine small principality.”

“No.” Storm replied firmly. “As the new leader of the Morlocks, I demand that you and your kin retreat back to your tunnels, where you will remain for the time being. I appoint you to act as the leader of the Morlocks in my stead, that is, once you’ve recovered.”

Logan whistled lowly. “Damn, `Roro, didn’t know you had it in you.”

“... it is something I had to do, not one I am happy to have done.” Ororo sighed. “I … dislike violence, but to stop this madness?” She sighed harshly. “With the Morlocks retreating, any other rioters should disperse and go home. As soon as possible, we should do the same.”

Purity International Headquarters:

Half-measures. More wretched half-measures.

Many of of his people believed that the inauguration of Operation Wideawake was a great victory, but William Stryker knew better. It was all well and good to have defenders capable of taking on the devil-spawn mutants, yes, but he had to admit he was somewhat uncomfortable having robots do the work of godly men. It was clear, also, that the current President- as long as he was in power, would continue to undermine the holy work that had been done. One more soul cast into the abyss.

There was also the all-important issue of Charles Xavier to consider. Stryker had always regarded him as a dangerous false prophet, but now he was beginning to wonder if Xavier and Magneto together were the Anti-Christ. Clearly the two both had to be destroyed, at all costs. Stryker pondered the three-dimensional map for a moment.

“I want that university destroyed completely, and I want it accomplished as soon as possible. The university is a linchpin of Mutant Town. Without it, it will be plunged into a material poverty as dire as its spiritual one. Once that is accomplished, my friends, I believe it imperative that we eliminate the Westchester school as well.

Many of their soldiers of faith would be somewhat hesitant to so openly defy the secular law in such an attack, but they simply needed to be reminded that their obligations to God came before those to Caesar. It would certainly be a dangerous move, but Xavier’s infection was closer to home than Magneto’s, which he had to confess was out of his mortal power at the moment. God would deal with Magneto in his own due time of course, which Stryker could only hope would be soon.

And what role will you play in this great drama, Bastion?

Stryker was grateful for the Frenchman and his ability to draw together people with the same goals from widely distant backgrounds and inclinations, but still he could not quite trust the man. He’s not godly, like Robert or Graydon is. Neither was Donald Pierce of course, but Pierce’s hatred was clearly stemmed largely from personal sources. It wasn’t pure, but it was useful. But Bastion did not seem to be motivated by any sort of real hatred. The man seemed fundamentally cold and distant, bemused by mutants even as he worked towards their destruction.

Stryker resolved to pray for the man, so that he could be born again in Christ. While the crusade against mutantkind took up the greater part of his attention, while it was certainly going to be what he’d been remembered for on heaven and earth, he knew that deep in his heart, ridding the world of mutants would only be one step towards the regeneration of the Earth. Until Christ has dominion over all parts of the world, and all souls, this is still a wretched, broken, damned world.

There was something, however, that was continuing to gall Stryker to no end. Shaw . He’d learned about the man’s mutation some time ago from Pierce- a fact that had nearly caused him to pull out of the project. He’d been convinced to stay on board by Bastion, who pointed out that it was hardly unprecedented for one’s enemies to work diligently and unwittingly towards their own destruction. But now that the man has largely finished building and testing the Sentinels, why should I tolerate his existence any further?

Stryker would send the order down the chain of command. The elimination of Sebastian Shaw would become a priority of the Purity Movement.

Genosha:

“Hey, Mom.” Rogue smiled as she landed next to Irene, giving her a warm smile. “Hope I haven’t kept you waitin’ for long. I was just out flying. Not too many days I get totally off these days. Who woulda thought making a nation was such hard work?” Rogue’s smile faded though as she looked over at her mother. “Are you okay, Mom?”

“Anna-Marie.” Irene finally said, turning towards her. Most of the time, she did not particularly mind being blind, but sometimes it hurt. She knew that her Anna-Marie, her Rogue had become a beautiful young woman, she sensed it, she’d been told by many people, but sometimes she wished she could see it. “I hope you know how incredibly proud I am, of the woman you’re becoming.”

“... Mom? What’s that mean?” Rogue wished that she could brush it off as her mother being maybe a little over-sentimental, but Irene wasn’t like that, normally. And she could see things as well.

“You’re going to have to make some very difficult choices soon. You’re going to be given an opportunity, for help with your powers, to meet new friends, to become the brave, smart heroic woman I know you can be. You won’t find that here in Genosha … Raven won’t understand that. Maybe one day she will.” Irene looked at her daughter. “But I’m so afraid, because if you do what you need to, I’m going to lose you.”

“... what are you talking about? I’d never leave you or Momma. Why the hell would I leave you?” Rogue might’ve become angry under other circumstances, but she was shaken at just how heartbroken Irene looked. “I’d never leave you. You and Momma are my world.”

“And that’s the problem.” Irene almost whispered, hanging her head. “You deserve so much more than that. We’ve been so selfish, keeping you to ourselves.” Irene’s voice dropped almost to nothing. “We should’ve gone to Xavier for help, years ago.”

“... Xavier? You mean the X-Men? But they’re our enemies, or at least, they’re tryin’ to stop us from having our own country! Are you saying that I should, what, go over to them?” Rogue pulled back a bit, her voice rising again.

Irene nodded. “Yes.” She rarely spoke so directly about her prophecies, but she knew that Rogue needed to go. “Magneto will send you overseas soon to fight in his war. Rogue- the war that he intends to start, is one where there will be no winner. Please don’t throw your life away on his dream. It will only turn into a nightmare, Anna-Marie.”

“... what about Momma?” Rogue asked, quietly. “Does she know?”

“No. And she cannot. She loves Magneto, she won’t understand. Please, Anna-Marie, I beg you. Go. Get the help you need. Become the hero you were always meant to be.” Irene looked back up at her, imploring, begging.

“... if I go, don’t you think for a second that I’m not coming back for you one day. And Momma too. That’s a promise, you hear?” Rogue felt hot tears forming at the corner of her eyes. “We’re gonna be a family again.”

“Yes, of course. One day.” Irene was glad, then, that she had no eyes. It made Rogue much less likely to catch the lie.

Twenty Years Later:

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Kate could barely remember when she’d lived and fought because she believed that the world could be a better place, that the future was a world of infinite possibilities, rather than simply because she was too stubborn to give up. Like she did at least every week, she placed a few straggly flowers on the graves of her dead friends, or at least, where they were buried- the Sentinels disposed of their ashes and bones in the same vast field, mingled indiscriminately with each other.

Somewhere in the vast deposits of ash and bone fragments lay the remains of Professor Xavier, the man who had taught her how to dream of a better future for mutants and humans. Strewn together with him or perhaps on top, since they’d died later, were the bones of Scott Summers and Ororo Munroe, the two leaders of the X-Men. The remains of many other X-Men, Bobby Drake, Kurt Wagner, Ali Blaire and others were mixed with them, as were the ashes of many of the people they’d called enemies before the crisis had brought them together- too little too late.

“... we should go, Katya.” She felt a warm, strong hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. “They are almost ready.”

“... do you think this could really work, Piotr?” Kate looked up at her husband. “You know that they’ll come when it activates. And then …”

“And then we die, yes, but maybe we can ensure that this never happens. Maybe soon, we will see each other again, in a better world.”

Kate nodded faintly and then went up on tiptoes to kiss him softly, Piotr bending down to return the kiss, strong arms wrapping around her. She looked up at him after they parted for a long moment, a hand reaching up to stroke his face. A hard life had left its mark on him, his dark hair liberally shot through with grey, a long scar from a Sentinel attack on his cheek, but he was still in so many ways, the handsome boy she’d fallen in love with as a foolish, optimistic girl.

It made her ache, deep down. She’d hoped once upon a time, maybe, to one day be a mother. But the Sentinels had fixed that with the virus that had sterilized almost all the world’s people. Like almost everyone in her generation, she’d never had the chance to start a family. The last human beings who would ever live on the planet were already thirteen years old. There had once been seven, eight billion people on the Earth- she didn’t know how many remained precisely, but Tessa was fairly confident that the number had fallen into the hundreds of millions and was declining precipitously. In a best-case scenario, in eighty or ninety years, the human race would be extinct.

The walk from the graves to the underground complex where the few survivors had gathered was not a long one, but they had to be continually wary of Sentinel patrols the whole time. Along the way, they travelled past the ghastly, empty, half-ruined remnant of New York City, broken only by the shufflings of vagrant humans and feral animals. The Sentinel patrols couldn’t easily pick them up while Kate had them phased, but it was still a colossal relief when they went underground to where the final group of X-Men had gathered.

“You’re late.” Tessa gave them a small look.

“I’m sorry, but I wanted to say goodbye to all my dead friends before I doom us all to non-existence at best.” Kate half-growled.

“Kate. Tessa. You two are not gonna have another fight now. We’re a team. X-Men.” Logan growled, guzzling a flask of cheap moonshine. “Forge an’ Max are almost done downstairs. Just runnin’ some last tests.” Logan offered the flask to Kate, who declined it.

“... I apologize. I did not mean to appear disrespectful. Many of my friends are in there too.” Tessa sighed slightly.

Kate nodded. “Me too. How long until they’re ready to send me over?”

“Ten minutes, give or take thirty seconds or so.” Tessa replied. “Logan and I can give you two a little time alone if you like.”

“Won’t be enough.” Logan smirked faintly, earning a little glare from the rest of the group. “Christ. Woulda thought a small joke would be welcome right now.” However, he left the room with Tessa.

Kate took Piotr by the hand and made him sit down so she could curl up in his lap. “Even twenty years later, I’m a perfect fit. Never had the chance to get fat.” She chuckled faintly and then made a soft sound as Piotr gently brushed away the hair from her neck and kissed her there, once twice.

Piotr nuzzled her softly, his arms wrapping around her. “I don’t want to let you go, Katya. But maybe, somehow, we’ll be together again. I never, was much for faith … I just … I do not want this to be goodbye.” A tear rolled down his face. “I’m sorry, Katya. I should be strong for you right now. I’ll do my best, I promise.”

“You have been so strong, so much stronger than I ever thought anyone could be. It’s okay to be scared, Piotr.” She looked up at him and kissed him softly. “I’m scared too, terrified. Just hold me, so I can still feel it when I have to go. Hold me so I’ll never forget what it feels like, no matter what happens out there.”

The remaining time, they spent in a comfortable silence, holding each other as tightly as they could. And true to her hope, Kate could still feel his arms around her as they finally had to part, and she walked down into the basement of the complex where she found Max and Forge working on the device that was going to send her consciousness back in time. Kate could see the haunted look in Max’s face as he looked over at her. But how could she be angry for the part he’d played in this now? He’d suffered too, losing his dream, his lover, his Brotherhood and even, in a sadly ironic twist, his ability to walk.

Kate took a slightly tremulous breath and stepped inside the machine, lying down on the table and being strapped in by Forge. She looked up at the bright lights of the machine as it started whirring into life. The rest of the room went dark as the power drained out to power its operation. She felt strange, not a pain, but a distinctly uncomfortable sensation of distance and she realized that she was looking down at herself and going up further and further away. It was then that she saw the explosion of the facility and the Sentinels coming in, attacking and eventually, killing her friends.

No … no … I have to go back. She couldn’t do anything, though, the machine was too far in its operation. The last things she saw was a Nimrod unit killing Piotr- tearing him to pieces, and the strangely satisfied expression of the captive mutant who had led them there. The green-haired mutant looked up with a strange smile as he grabbed an unconscious Forge and then began to disappear himself.

No. Send me back! SEND ME BACK!

Kate screamed silently, but there was nothing to do be done. Her consciousness was already being sent hurtling, screaming through time and space, and then all she knew was darkness.

X-Mansion:

When Kate awoke again, she was in a warm, soft bed in the Xavier Institute, where she’d been twenty years ago. But all she could do was cry, cry until there were no tears left and her breath only came in ragged gulps. She finally managed to get out of the bed and look around, at all the ridiculous posters and stuffed animals and half-read books around her. Her fingers wrapped around the Star of David necklace around her neck, something she’d lost so many years ago.

Kate got up and went out into the bathroom, turned on the light and stared into the mirror, and the face that greeted her wasn’t the slightly worn one with greying hair she was used to- but herself as much younger woman, wavy brown hair unmarred by age, her face a little rounder than it had become over the years.

This isn’t Kate. It’s Kitty.

She took a deep breath. She had a lot of work to do, and very little time in which to do it. She wouldn’t exist for very long- in only a few days, Kitty’s consciousness would take over again- Kate could only hope that things had changed enough that her consciousness could return back to her body, but she knew that the actual chance that would happen was low. Most likely, Kate realized, these were the last few days of her existence.

I won’t waste them. I won’t let the people I love done. I can save them, maybe in the future, but certainly in the present.

No more tears, Kate. It’s all up to you now.

Chapter Text

Genosha:

Hearing the unending procession of petty troubles would have been wearying for a man with the patience of a saint. For Magneto, it was painful. He was attempting to build a nation from virtually nothing and yet, people were concerned about their bank accounts, their kebab businesses, any number of other small, individual issues. And yet, he’d listened to them all, pronounced judgement where he could and referred the issue for later consideration when he had to.

Finally, the last petitioner had left and the colossal steely throne that Magneto had built for himself now only amplified the essential loneliness of the room. It was not for long, however, when he heard a very familiar pattern of footsteps on the ground- on normal ground, Raven would have made no sound at all, but he’d built the floors of the palace to be almost impossible to sneak around on.

“... nice throne. Needs more swords, though.” Wanda looked up levelly at him.

“Raven’s had you watch that damnable television show, hasn’t she?.” Magneto replied with the faintest of smirks. “Please tell me you’re not here because you want something from me.”

“Only some answers.” Wanda’s expression turned more serious. “... why’d you do it? Make Xavier give himself up like that. Look, I understand Xavier was being a hypocrite and I’m not up for doing him favors. But there’s kids at that school. Mutant children who are relying on him to provide sanctuary for them!”

“There is no sanctuary out there. Only here in Genosha.” Magneto replied firmly. “And it is good for Charles to understand, that his credibility depended entirely on the public perception of him being a human, rather than a mutant. Would you have me ignore him entirely? As he trains his little mutant squad to attack our interests?”

“I’d have you focus on our actual enemies.” Wanda scaled the steps towards the throne so she was looking her father in the eye. “And while you’re at it, they’re not petty problems that these people face. It’s a lot harder to build than it is to tear down. We’ve all got a lot of learning to do about it, and quickly.”

“Indeed.” Magneto smiled thinly. “And speaking of haste, have you seen the plans for my attack on Washington DC?”

 “I have.” Wanda nodded. “You seem to have that … well in hand.”

“Yes, I do.” Magneto stood up. “I appreciate your honesty and candor as always, but make no mistake, I expect to be obeyed as well.”

 “Yes, of course.” Only in so far as you are helping our people, Father. I won’t let anyone endanger them, even you.

 “I’m glad that we’re clear on that.” Magneto let out a breath and then spoke again, with ironclad determination and confidence. “Find Mystique and tell her that we must move quickly. We draw any superheroes that could interfere out of the city and then the Brotherhood strikes. Mere days from now, the most powerful human nation on Earth will be decapitated, bereft of leadership. And in the chaos of the aftermath, the mutants of the world will know that their only hope of a better future is with me, not that charlatan Xavier.”

X-Mansion:

Kate was very, very glad that Kitty hadn’t moved in with Piotr or anything- in fact, she was hoping to avoid him before she spoke to the Professor. Truthfully, she didn’t know how she was going to handle seeing any of her friends, alive and younger, full of hope. She took a deep breath and finished getting dressed and tying back her hair before she went out to try and find the Professor, as quietly as possible.

She stepped out of her room and started down the corridor, thankfully largely devoid of students, though she didn’t know if they’d appreciate the difference. She looked around carefully and then continued walking. At least she remembered where the Professor’s office was- the layout of the Mansion had been burned into her muscle memory. She could have found her way around the place blindfolded.

“Hello Katya.”

She heard the voice that … she both didn’t want to hear right now and desperately needed to hear. It was hard to swallow down all those emotions and turn around to face him with a casual smile.

“Hey Petey. How’s things?” Kate knew that hanging back would be perceived as weird. But wouldn’t desperately clinging to him?

“.. they are all right. And you?” Piotr raised his eyebrow slightly. “Are you all right, Katya?”

“... yeah, I’m fine. Just, stressed about some work stuff. I need to talk to the Professor about sorting it out.” Kate looked up at him, hoping he’d either buy it or leave before she did something completely insane.

His reaction was worse than she could have imagined. She wasn’t surprised that he knew she was lying, Kitty had never been a good liar and Kate hadn’t got much better at it in the twenty years since. If he’d been annoyed and walked off, that would have been all right. Even angry, so they could have an argument and one of them could storm off safely. But no, he wasn’t .. he was a little hurt, she could tell, that she wasn’t telling him the truth, but more than anything, he was worried.

“Kitty, if you don’t want to-” He was cut off, however, because someone else had entered the room.

Logan growled lowly. “Save your breath, Russian. That’s not Kitty. Might look like it and smell like it, but she’s holding herself all wrong. Not ta mention she’s usually all over you. She also doesn’t wear her hair like that. Or not look people in the eyes.”

Piotr looked over at Logan for a moment and then back at Kate, his own eyes narrowing. He knew something was up too, he just isn’t as suspicious as Wolverine. “I think perhaps the two of us should show you to the Professor’s office. Now.”

Kate’s stomach lurched and her heart half stopped at the thought of them, of all people, the two men she loved more than anyone else, distrusting her like that- but then again, they were right to. She wasn’t Kitty- hadn’t been in years, and she’d taken over Kitty, temporarily, they all said, in order to get her work done. She took a slightly shaky breath and put up her hands. “I was going there anyway.”

Xavier’s Office, X-Mansion:

“... forgive me if I have difficulty understanding what is happening.” Xavier sighed as he looked into Kate’s mind. “You’re telling me that Magneto is due to attack Washington within 48 hours, and that the results of his attack will launch the entire course of history on such a hellish path? And that you’re … Kitty, twenty years in the future?”

Kate nodded. “Yes, Professor. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have to.”

“And what happens with Kitty?” Xavier asked, raising his eyebrow.

“In two or three days, her consciousness will displace mine again. If I’m lucky, I go back to a better world. If not … well, it’s not right for me to take her over anyway. Me over.” Kate looked up at him, her eyes matching his. “I know it’s a lot to take in, and it’s not going to be pretty to look at, for either of us, but you have to.”

Professor Xavier nodded grimly and reached out his hands on either side of her head, probing into her mind, pulling the images, of the assault on Washington, of the horrific aftermath, of the death of one after the other of his X-Men, a colossal genocide in Genosha, the unleashing of a deadly plague which slowly killed most that it infected and left the survivors sterile, everything pointing towards the virtual extinction of the human race, in both its conventional and mutant presentations.

How could this come to pass? Is my dream of coexistence so doomed?

I don’t know, Professor. Maybe we can stop it if we stop the attack on Washington.

Anything. Anything to stop this coming to pass.

When Charles finally pulled out of Kate’s head, he was pale and shaking, sweating profusely. He took a moment to steady himself before speaking again.

“We will need your help. I must warn you, however, many of the others will be loath to trust you. I’m sure you understand why. In many ways, you were, are, the emotional and spiritual linchpin of the group, just as much as Scott is the intellectual and tactical leader.”

Kate nodded quietly. “I know. If … if for some reason, I’m not brought back to my timeline after the 48 hours, I want you to promise me something, Professor.”

“What is that, Kate?” The Professor’s eyes locked onto her own.

“Erase me. Everything. Kitty, this Kitty, she has her whole life in front of her. I will not cause her to stop existing. I won’t have that on my conscience. If it doesn’t work- for whatever reason, I want you to get rid of me. Kitty needs to live, more than I do.” Kate’s eyes matched his own, and he saw a profound weariness. To have lived through so much …

Charles took a breath, pausing, trying to work it through what that actually demanded of him. It would make him complicit in, essentially, an act of murder. But could I live knowing that I defied her wishes and that in so doing, I essentially murdered Kitty? He finally looked at her again, grimly, and nodded.

In the meantime, I can pray. Pray that I will not have to do that.

Purifier Base, underneath New York City:

It was rare for the Reverend Stryker to make a personal appearance in front of his armed and armoured soldiers- to do so was to invite the possibility of being directly connected to them. There would come a time in which, God willing, he could declare his allegiance to the heavens and on Earth and be lauded for it. But now was not the time- for now, this holy crusade would have to be largely fought in dark and secretive places.

However, this was an exception. His Purifiers- peerless soldiers in Christ, were about to go into battle against an intimidating and powerful foe. He was quite certain that many of them would not escape alive, Shaw had numerous armed men of his own and no one knew yet about his mutant abilities for certain.

“I will not lie to you. Sebastian Shaw is a powerful man. His corporate headquarters is well-defended. You will encounter armed and trained men there. He also has hired mutant retainers. We know he is a mutant, but we do not know for certain what his abilities are. Once again, I emphasize that you will be battling a powerful man, one of the most powerful in all the world.

However, do we draw our strength from this feeble and corrupt world? No! Our strength, our will, our faith is in Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, who took the sins of humanity upon Himself, so that we could be free, so that we could live forever! We will be successful tonight, and every night as we go on, because God wills it! GOD WILLS IT!” Stryker’s voice rose to a crescendo, which was matched by the thunderous chant of his final words from the assembled Purifiers.

“Go my brothers, into the jaws of Hell, and bring purity to that den of corruption and sin. Bring Sebastian’s foul empire down around him! Make the Word of God something known and feared in this fallen world! GOD WILLS IT.”

The response was nearly deafening as the soldiers called out the name of the Lord in unison, arms pumping in the air. He couldn’t help but smile faintly. He imagined that his men could be heard all the way in Heaven. The Lord will surely bless us this fine night.

La Navarra, Manhattan:

“I must confess, I have never even seen barnacles on a menu let alone ordered them.” Hank McCoy grinned slightly nervously. “I leave my tastebuds in your capable hands, my dear.”

“You can take a Hong Kong girl off the island, but you can’t take the Hong Kong out of her.” Betsy smirked slightly. “I’ve always had the most adventurous tastes of anyone in my family, by far. “You’ll like them. And even if you don’t, you’ll be able to say ever after that you tried barnacles.”

“And all with the pleasure of your company as well.” Hank replied deftly, taking a sip of his wine. “Though part of me is wondering when the Juggernaut is going to crash through the wall.”

“If that giant wanker disturbs this date, I will be a very angry woman.” Betsy smirked and then slid her hand out to brush against his cheek. “I think we’ve more than earned a nice night out, don’t you?” Purple eyes met his intently. “I think you’ll like the barnacles, Hank.”

Something about the way she said that made Hank’s mouth dry and his heart skip a beat or two. It’d been some time since he’d been on a proper date- he and Trish had nearly stopped seeing each other for some months before they formally broke up. He’d never, ever thought that anything mentioning barnacles, of all things, could be remotely so sexy.

“Well, with a recommendation like that, my dear, I simply cannot wait. And that’s just the appetizer, no less.” Hank laughed and then smiled at her more thoughtfully. “How are you finding life with the X-Men? You seem so at home with it, that it’s difficult for me to remember how new it is.”

Betsy considered that for a moment and then smiled. “Actually? I feel like I have real purpose for the first time in my life. I’ve grown more, I think, in the last few months than I have in the twenty-five years preceding it. I’m part of something bigger than myself and I really appreciate that. And besides, I get to meet very interesting men doing it.” Her gaze went back to him for a long moment.

“Interesting, perhaps.” Hank felt fortunate that his blue fur effectively hid any blushing, though it was entirely possible she’d pick it up telepathically. “It’s something that keeps me coming back, though. I first met Charles when I was sixteen, I really cannot imagine my life if I hadn’t.”

“It would involve less fighting mutant supervillains, anyway.” Betsy teased.

“That it would, Ms. Braddock. It would also make it far less likely that I’d be here, this very evening, with you.” Hank grinned widely. “A more than fair trade, I think.”

“Flatterer.” Betsy smirked. “Careful, I’m a telepath. If you’re lying, I’ll know it.” She raised an eyebrow as her smirk broadened into a grin.

“Then what, pray tell, am I thinking about?” Hank smiled, taking a sip of wine, trying to call up his favorite lines from Shakespeare.

Betsy leaned forward, looking as if she were deep in thought and bit her lip. “Give me a moment.” Her eyes locked with his and she leaned in a little closer.

Hank could smell her perfume and even more so, her pheromones. Well, there go my rational thoughts. He gave up trying to recall the Bard, however much he loved a good sonnet, and realized all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her right at that moment. Other things, as well. But kissing would be a most excellent beginning. The finest of all appetizers, really.

“That’s what I thought.” Her eyes flashed, though with amusement more than anger and she sat back. “Oh and what do you know? The barnacles are here. I hope you’re hungry. I’m positively starving.”

Genosha:

“Nice night, isn’t it?” Rogue landed neatly on the ground. “You on guard duty, Kayla?”

“Yeah, from midnight till six am. Then I get off guard duty, because I’ll be going to Washington.” Kayla smiled faintly. “I really feel like Magneto trusts me. It’s … it’s incredible what he’s been doing here. Building a mutant nation. After everything, just to … to have a home, you know? Somewhere to belong.” She sighed slightly and then looked at Rogue. “I never, I don’t know if I properly got a chance to say that I’m sorry for … before. Putting pressure on you like that. I really do appreciate our friendship, though. It means a lot to me. I don’t have many friends.”

“Me either.” Rogue admitted candidly, knowing that very soon she’d have basically no friends at all. “It seems so amazing, but do you ever … you ever feel like this is all some sort of dream? I sometimes worry that I’m going to wake up.”

“Magneto will make it real, I know he will.” Kayla smiled. “He’s just, I’ve never met anyone like that, never thought I would meet anyone like that. He made us a home. It’s incredible that someone like that would even care about having the assistance of someone like me.”

“Kayla, Magneto’s damn lucky to have someone like you on his side.” Rogue replied, maybe just a little too harshly. “You’re way too hard on yourself. You’ll whup all kinds of butt in Washington, I bet. I’m sure there’s some tank or jet plane with your name on it.”

“I’ll leave the jet planes to you. You’re the one who flies. Lemme handle the ground pounders.” Kayla sighed slightly. “... are you, do you ever get nervous at all? About missions? About Washington?”

“... terrified, sometimes. But we’ll be fine.” Rogue smiled at her.

“Yeah, Magneto knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t send us to do anything we couldn’t handle.” Kayla grinned back and then held up her hand, balled up into a fist. “`Spect, Rogue. And lighten up a little!”

Rogue tapped her gloved fist against Kayla’s with a faint smile. However, she was more than a little worried about the other girl’s seemingly blind and unassailable faith in Magneto. She knew all too well that Magneto was only human- and she feared that he was beginning to lose his grip on that. That and I’ve not had what Mama’s told me out of my head since she did. I have this horrible feeling that things aren’t going to end well here.

“You okay?” Kayla asked, looking at her. “Don’t get all antsy about Washington. I mean, we're the Brotherhood of Mutants. Slightly sexist-name aside, we’re absolutely going to kick eight billion kinds of ass. How tough can a bunch of soldiers be?”

We’re not gonna be fightin’ soldiers. And at the end of it, I’ve got to end up with them, one way or another. What’re you going to think about that? Maybe get you over that crush you got on me. Rogue put the thought of her mind. It was unkind and it shamed her to think it. I just hope, for all our sakes, that Magneto’s grand plans don’t come crashing down. Got too many people I care about invested in that man for my liking.

Shaw Industries Tower:

It was three in the morning and most people had long since left the Shaw Industries office tower, but one occupant remained there, Sebastian Shaw himself. He didn’t need nearly as much sleep as others did- if he ever felt tired, he could simply punch one of the nearby walls and gain enough kinetic energy to fuel himself for hours. It was merely one of the many facets of his mutant power, one that had given him an enormous edge over many of his business rivals. It enabled him to effortlessly do business with people across the globe, regardless of time zones. It also meant he could spend days at a time with no rest, planning, working, building his empire.

So it was little surprise that Sebastian didn’t need to be awakened when he first head of the perimeter breach at Shaw Industries. His immediate reaction to the news was to remove his suit jacket and shirt- blood on either of those expensive items would be terribly inconvenient, and then go towards a block of finely wrought steel he kept in this room for that very purpose. Sebastian began punching it, throwing more and more of his weight into it, his blows becoming faster and faster until they were a blur that couldn’t even be seen by his eyes. The steel block first bent and then mashed like clay under his fists.

When it was all done, Sebastian felt exhilarated, like he always did when he carried around enough kinetic energy- full of an inhuman energy that burned for sweet release, though this time, it would not be in Tessa or some other woman, it would be on whomever had deigned to attack him. The sensors indicated that the attackers were coming his way. He smirked to himself coldly. They’ve made a fatal mistake, attacking me in my lair. I’ll enjoy mailing what’s left of them to whomever send them here.

It took about thirty seconds before they arrived, blowing down the door with what he surmised was some sort of rocket. Unfortunately, for them, the explosion kicked up a great deal of dust, which gave him the few seconds he needed to get into them. Armoured, every one of them. Purifiers, I would imagine. Their God won’t save them from me.

Sebastian appeared in front of one of them, his fingers bending and cracking the chestplate of the armour, eventually pulling it open, with no more difficulty than a man might peel the shell off of a cooked crab. A second strike, too fast to follow, let alone dodge, let his fist curl around the man’s sternum, causing a blood curdling scream from the Purifier, one that was only amplified as Sebastian picked him up and used him as a bludgeon to knock another pair of them aside. Maintaining his death grip on the screaming, bleeding man, Sebastian eventually whipped him down the hallway at more Purifiers coming up, knocking them over like bowling pins.

Before any of them could recover, Sebastian raced over to the pile of Purifiers he’d dropped, noticing the heavy machine gun on one of their arms. Bracing his foot against the Purifier’s stomach, he yanked on the arm while simultaneously pushing away with his foot, resulting in the mechanical arm tearing off. Sebastian slipped his hand into the groove and triggered the gun at point blank range, the powerful bullets tearing into any weak points in the armour, sending sprays of blood, bone and metal along with it. He swung low and towards the Purifiers down the hallway, raking them with gunfire.

It was then that he felt himself knocked off his feet as one of the Purifiers was able to get enough shelter to fire a grenade launcher at him. His mutant power, however, managed to absorb the vast majority of the impact. It barely hurt enough to be interesting. Any pain that he did feel was soon blotted out by the incredible feeling of kinetic energy surging through him. Sebastian felt incredible, invincible.

He picked up one of the Purifiers, groaning but alive and threw him into the one who’d managed to hit him, with an impact sufficient to send him flying down the hallway, knocking into his wounded, dying companions. Sebastian then spied a length of piping, tore it from the wall and with a roar of triumph, used it to pin several of the Purifiers to the ground. He then ran down the hallway, faster than any normal human possibly could, until he caught up to the two Purifiers at the end of the hallway.

The first one, Sebastian killed quickly, simply stomping on his armoured chest until it was totally caved in. With contemptuous ease, Sebastian tossed the dead Purifier aside. He came up to the other Purifier, who levelled his machine gun at his chest and fired. Hundred of rounds, sufficient to tear normal human bodies to shreds, powerful enough to punch through armour, simply bounced harmlessly off of him to the floor. When the barrel finally clicked empty, all the Purifier had to show for it was a series of small red welts, which would heal within a few hours.

Sebastian laughed at the final Purifier, taking the machine gun and twisting it into unusability with his hand. He then stamped on each of the Purifier’s joints in turn, elbows and knees, shattering the armour and the bones underneath. He then, almost gently, removed the Purifier’s helmet. Hardly more than a child, really.

“Where is your God now, boy?” Sebastian asked, crushing the helmet in his hand. “Perhaps you should pray to him. Pray to be healed, to be taken away from here, or better yet, for me to be struck down, right now!”

“... the Lord is mighty and his wrath will …” The Purifier’s brave lines were cut off by a scream as Sebastian’s foot came down upon where his hand would be on the armour.

“There is no God, boy.” Sebastian’s foot came down on the Purifier’s already-broken knee. “Admit it. Admit there is no God, no Heaven, and you’ll live.”

“Never … never ... “ The Purifier screamed again but then spit, bloodily into Sebastian’s face. “Never!”

“Your mother’s going to have a very hard time identifying your body, boy.” Sebastian’s face drew into a cruel sneer as his foot began to press down, slowly, slowly into the Purifier’s face. The young man resisted and kicked and bucked, but nothing could stop Sebastian, not until his foot felt the floor once again.

Sebastian picked up the phone immediately thereafter. Tessa had best be free, I need a good woman right now. And a strong drink.

Xavier Institute Grounds:

Kate sat on the pier by the lake, watching the sunset, knees curled up underneath her chin. I can’t blame any of them for not trusting me, not really. I’m … I’m not the girl they know. And yet, the bitter and awful truth was that she was that girl, at one time, and somewhere deep inside where she’d learned to hide her true feelings, she still was. She desperately wanted to be able to enjoy being with her friends like the good old days, goofing around in the Danger Room with Kurt, going out on dubious adventures with Logan. And Piotr. Piotr. I just want you to hold me and kiss me, to love me and never …

She realized in a horrifying moment that there was a very, very good chance that even if she succeeded, Piotr wouldn’t be there for her back in her new world. What about Logan? Any of the others? There were people she hadn’t even seen yet- Tessa was likely still working for Sebastian Shaw and the Hellfire Club, but she had no idea where Forge was. And it would be a long and difficult time before it was even possible for Magneto to work with them, even though she’d learned to trust him a long time ago.

They’re probably all gone, or they won’t recognize me anymore. And … so will I, soon. I’ll probably be gone, erased.

It was then that she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and she immediately jumped.

“You’re distracted as hell, halfpint. Normally, you woulda caught me twenty feet away from you.” Logan sat down beside her on the dock.

“... I’m not Kitty.” Kate glared at him. “You don’t have to treat me like I am.”

“Yer sure poutin’ at me like you are.” Logan replied with a faint smirk, but then he looked at her intently. “I know you’re not gonna be around for long, but nobody should have to face what you’re facin’ down alone. Specially not my lil’ halfpint.”

Kate’s eyes practically brimmed with tears as she instinctively hugged Logan as tight as she could.

“Careful, you’re practically stranglin’ me there.” Logan put an arm around her. “We’ll be okay, kid. We’ll set things right. You an’ me.”

“Team Awesome.” Kate replied, having never in her life been so comforted by the pervasive smell of cigar smoke. “You and me, we’re Team Awesome. Thank you, Logan.”

“Hey, no problem, halfpint.” Logan smirked. “C’mon, let’s go get a damn beer at Harry’s. Fuzzbutt’s comin’ too. You’ll feel way better after you whup his ass at darts. And I owe ya a few brews for before. Took me a moment or two ta know the score.”

Kate nodded. “Okay … that sounds good.” She paused for a moment. “.. how’s Piotr?”

“He’s takin’ it fairly hard. But he’ll get it.” Logan replied. “He’s a kid too, doesn’t have the same perspective as me. I know you too well to imagine you’d go through this crazy bullshit over anything less than pure desperation.”

“If there was any other way, I’d do it.” Kate agreed quietly. “Beer sounds good, though.” She managed a small smile at him and then leaned in to quickly kiss his cheek. “You made it, where I’m from. And I hope I see you again, soon. In the future.”

“Yeah, well, let’s get there first.” Logan smirked and lit up his cigar.

Genosha:

Magneto had gathered his people in Independence Square, most of the population of the Genoshan capital and thousands more from the camps outside for a day of celebration, but also one to remind them that the struggle was far from won. Nearly one hundred Genoshans were presented with the new purple and gold uniforms that marked them as members of the Acolytes, the Genoshan state’s elite security forces, which would be headed by Exodus. The civilian administration would be given to his daughter Wanda, who had proven herself a surprisingly adept administrator in the last few weeks.

He’d left some of the most important work, however, to Raven. He’d allowed Raven to choose members of the Brotherhood of Mutants to go back to Mutant Town with her to establish themselves as a presence, an alternative to Xavier or to the American state. An armed mutant resistance that would put the lie to the notion that humans could control mutants, with or without Sentinels in the streets. Their first mission, however, would be to go to Washington to spread chaos in the city, to kill key government officials and cause devastation.

In a few short months, Magneto had gone from being a prisoner to being the conqueror of an entire nation, and the founder of the world’s first mutant state. It was time, however, to begin laying the groundwork for greater things. It was not long ago that he would have hesitated to move further, but he could see clearly that the world was within the grasp of mutantkind. The pressure simply needed to be applied continuously.

The humans must have no respite. It is a cruel, twisted world which forces the strong to take shelter from the weak. I will put the lie to that. And to human dominion over the Earth. It is ours, by right of evolution, and soon by that of conquest!

“People of Genosha! Mutants of the world! What we have accomplished here is great, but we cannot, must not rest! The humans have shown that they will not tolerate our presence- they propose to build weapons of genocide and fill their streets with robotic killers. Through their hatred, through their blind fear, they have made the way clearer for us.

Once, I will admit, I subscribed to the idealistic notion that we could live here in Genosha, build a state, build a culture, build a nation of mutants. But the implementation of Operation Wideawake, the revelation of Xavier’s deceit has made it clear, that we have two choices. Conquest, or death!

The Brotherhood of Mutants will be leaving Genosha to begin setting the stage for mutant dominion. Their first attack will spread chaos, a chaos that may fan the flames of their hatred- but their hate and power will be crushed! We will prevail! Mutants will inherit the Earth, not in eons or millennia, but imminently, in days, in months, in our lifetimes! The young among you will be able to start families in a mutant world- one where we are not forced to seek sanctuary from those inferior to us, but one in which we can live freely- anywhere in the world!

Together, we will conquer! We will not falter! We will prevail! Evolution is on our side! History will absolve us! We will triumph over everything! Are you with me, people of Genosha? Are you with me, mutants of the world?”

As Magneto’s speech built up to its crescendo, even his amplified voice was nearly drowned out in the audience’s appreciative roar.

And so, it begins.

Will you try to stop me, Charles? You and your ragtag band of X-Men?

There is nothing you can do. Tomorrow, your dream, your delusion, dies, once and for all.

Chapter Text

Washington DC:

“My God, Sebastian. I heard about the attack on your offices. Are you all right?” Robert Kelly’s brow knit with concern as he met his old friend at the airport.

“Oh, it takes more than a few heavily armed terrorists to kill me, Robert.” Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m quite unharmed, though a few of my guards were not so fortunate. I’ll see that their families are well taken care of.” His eyes then met Kelly’s intently. “And also, that those who perpetrated the attack are found.”

“Of course, Sebastian. If there is anything I can do, anything at all …” Kelly felt strangely nervous about Sebastian’s gaze. There was clearly something that his old friend wasn’t saying, and a certain coolness in the air.

Sebastian led Kelly a short distance aside before speaking again. When they’d reached a spot with a certain degree of privacy- assured by several discreetly clad Shaw Industries guards, Sebastian turned towards Robert again. “They were Purifiers, Robert. We can cut the lies, we both know that the Reverend Stryker commands the Purifiers. And I know that Stryker has been assisting your campaign, as have I. I want to warn you, old friend. That man is a maniac, and he does not want what we want.

The mutant … situation is a dangerous one, yes. One that calls for a strong hand to instill social order. A strengthened Registration Act. Sentinels protecting our cities. But that is not what Stryker truly wants. Stryker doesn’t want peace, he doesn’t want order. He wants genocide, blood on the streets. Associating with him is dangerous. He tried to have me killed yesterday, how long until it’s you, or Sharon?”

“... do you have any proof that Stryker directed the strike, Sebastian?” Kelly asked, a little tremulously. “If you can prove it, I can’t … I can’t support a man who’d attack a friend of mine. But I’ve never been sure that he actually controls the Purifiers like certain people think he does.”

“Kelly. Your lack of trust in my word is saddening. Disturbing, even. But if you must, I’ll have your proof. Until then, however, be careful for God’s sake, Robert.” Sebastian took a breath. “Mad dogs do not discriminate. One day, that man will turn on you. No amount of blood will ever satisfy him.”

“.. you be careful too, Sebastian.” Kelly responded. “These are very dangerous times we’re living in.”

“They are, Robert. Very dangerous times, indeed.” Sebastian paused for a moment. “But dangerous times make for great opportunities. We’ll have the order the world needs, one way or another.”

Across the Street:

Raven sipped a Tom Collins thoughtfully as she watched the two men talking. She couldn’t precisely make out what they were saying to each other, but it was clear they were having a serious discussion. Two of the top targets. I should take them out now. I could do it, easily. But she knew that Magneto wanted to make the big statement, wanted to expose the capital as defenceless in the face of mutant power. So Raven and the Brotherhood of Mutants would lie in wait and strike the next day.

The team she’d selected would be more than capable of achieving the task that Magneto had set out for them. All in all, she had fully one dozen mutants at her disposal, all loyal to the cause and all having been specially trained for this particular mission by none other than Mystique herself. Some of them, like Toad and Mastermind, were old veterans of the mutant revolution, others like her daughter and the Shockwave girl were fairly new, and yet, all had their unique talents. They would create a colossal distraction and get rid of secondary targets while she found and eliminated the primary target, the American President.

She took another sip of her drink. With the President dead and Washington devastated, the world would be effectively paralyzed, as the American government slowly, painfully sorted itself out. While it did that, Magneto had longer-range plans to neutralize any other countries that threatened his goals. Ultimately, the plan was to create a global mutant state, one in which no mutant anywhere would need to hide or feel fear anymore.

It’s ambitious as hell. I probably wouldn’t be so bold, but then again, that’s why Magneto’s in charge, not me.

It wasn’t long ago that Raven would have laughed off any such idea, that mutants could realistically dominate the world or have even created a proper homeland of their own. However, Magneto had dramatically put the lie to that, achieving victory after victory for mutants. When she’d originally sprung him out of prison, she’d never thought that she would have seen him installed as the leader of Genoshan mutants, or, perhaps, the conqueror of the rest of the world.

Never would’ve figured myself as being Queen of all the mutants, either. Not really my thing.

Raven had wondered in the past, about how long her relationship with Magneto was going to last. She’d assumed in the beginning that it was a simple fling, more about satisfying physical urges and curiosity than about anything more significant. And yet, over the last few months, Raven realized, more and more, that not only did she admire Magneto as the iconic leader of mutantkind, but that she was in love with the man.

Getting too distracted. I’ve got a job to do here. Scope things out. We’ll come back tomorrow morning and this damn city will burn.

To mutants. Raven raised her glass silently. It’s our world now, motherfuckers.

X-Mansion:

Many of the other X-Men had gone off to Harry’s Tavern for a few drinks, but Scott Summers had stayed behind. He appreciated the need of some of his teammates to relax a little before what would almost certainly be a very tense day following, but he found that relaxation impossible. He’d hold himself up in the War Room with a pot of coffee, looking over the map of the area, trying to figure out where the Brotherhood might strike, and which X-Men to bring. The roster of the team had swollen considerably, and only eight or so would reasonably fit inside the Blackbird.

Kitty’s future self held some potentially valuable knowledge about what would happen, so it was safe to assume that she would join the team, even if Scott felt slightly uncomfortable with what had happened. He had nothing against Kate, but he found himself missing Kitty more than he’d expected. Logan, even though he could sometimes be a bit of a loose cannon, was an extremely effective fighter. They had nobody remotely as strong as Piotr. Ororo was another given, with her ability to control nature itself.

He didn’t trust Remy enough for a valuable field mission- he knew far too little about the Cajun to make a sound judgement and he didn’t like that, so he was out. Other than that, however, it was going to be tough deciding. They needed a telepath- so that meant that Betsy would be going. Bobby was almost as valuable for crowd control as Ororo and Scott trusted him more than just about anyone else.

Which left a very difficult choice- did Scott bring Kurt or Hank? Both had proven themselves in the past and had considerable skills. In the end, though, it came down to who could run things better in Scott’s absence- Kurt was trustworthy enough, but he’d be more useful on the field than otherwise. Hank McCoy was not simply a name, he was a relatively well-known individual who could be a major advocate for mutants. He also had the credentials to actually help run the school. Also, Hank’s more likely to be understanding. Kurt likes being in the middle of the action.

“You should get some rest, Scott. Tomorrow is likely to be a very trying day, it wouldn’t be wise to face it without sleep.” Charles said softly as he wheeled into the room.

“I suppose I should try and get some sleep.” Scott sighed. “But I don’t know if that’s going to work. From what Kate tells us, the future, the whole future, hinges on what we do tomorrow.” He rolled his eyes faintly. “No pressure, of course.”

“If anyone can see us through this trying time, it’s you, Scott.” Xavier wheeled around so he could face him. “You’ve always been your own worst critic, Scott. Believe in yourself. Be the leader I know you can be. The only thing holding you back is your own doubt.”

Scott sighed. “That’s easy for you to say, Professor. It’s a lot harder to live that.”

“The most important and best things are rarely the easiest ones, Scott.” Charles chided him gently. “You have all the skill, but you need the confidence. You won’t be able to inspire the others if you can’t believe in yourself.”

“You’re right, Professor.” Scott finally replied after a moment’s pause. “I’ve been letting not just my doubts, but all my personal issues, get in the way of what needs to be done. And tomorrow, there’s too much at stake for me to be angsting over myself.” He took a breath. “I should try and get some rest. You should too, Professor. And … thank you. I know things have been tense at times with us, but … I believe you were, and are, doing the best you can.”

“Thank you, Scott. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.” Charles looked up at him. “But yes, go get some rest. It’s likely to be a very long day tomorrow.”

X-Mansion:

Kate would have liked it very much if she would’ve been able to get stinking drunk- but she didn’t have the option. Tomorrow was going to be the most important, and most likely, the last day of her life. She couldn’t exactly be facing it hungover. She slumped down into a seat, wondering if there was any real point in trying to sleep. Kate sat up bolt straight, however, when she heard a knock at her door.

Piotr? Kate thought immediately as she went to open the door, eyes wide, hopeful that at the very least, he wouldn’t resent her for what happened. When she saw who it was, though, she stopped and narrowed her eyes.

“Remy, what are you doing here?” Kate practically hissed.

Remy smirked insolently for a moment. “What, you worried that the Russian’s gonna come and make mincemeat out of ol’ Remy here? I know better. He won’t be comin’ around tonight, petite. Besides, I’m here on business, not pleasure.” His expression changed into something more serious. “So you really from the future, Kate?” He drew out her name, long and slow.

“Yes, I am.” Kate replied, glaring at him. “Let me guess- you don’t believe me?”

“No, chere. Remy’s seen stranger things in his life than that.” Remy’s gaze didn’t leave hers, no matter how hard she tried to stare him down. “If Magneto does his thing, is that what starts it? The end? Where everybody dies?”

“Yes, it is.” Kate continued to try and stare a hole right through his head. “No thanks to you.”

“You sure? I might be able to help more than you think. But I don’t take risks like that without at least someone bein’ real sure it’s the right thing to do.” Remy’s eyes literally flared slightly. “I know what you all think, what you believe. Don’t bother me none, what other people think. But the end of the world? I like this world, chere. So tell me straight, is this worth me giving a damn?”

Kate’s glare only intensified, to the point where Remy looked just a little unsure of himself. Then she sighed and there was a deep sadness in her eyes, even as she continued to stare daggers right into his heart. “If there is anything you can do, then shut up and do it. Or everyone is as good as dead. Do it. Get up off your sorry ass and stand up for something bigger than yourself for once in your life.”

“Funny thing `bout that, petite. It’s not what I’m going to do that can help all of you, it’s what I won’t do.” Remy chuckled faintly. “I’d say see you later, but by all reports, you won’t be around much longer. Maybe you see me in the future, though. Say merci then.”

X-Institute:

Logan had been around long enough to know when getting sleep was a good idea and when it wasn’t going to do anything but get in the way. He hadn’t bothered going to bed, having spent much of the time roaming around the grounds of the Institute, following a herd of deer that had taken up residence there part of the time. He wasn’t about to actually hunt them- he had no need for the meat, but sometimes he liked simply following them about. Sometimes I feel more like an animal than a human anyway.

He’d finally stalked back into the Mansion, realizing he hadn’t eaten in several hours and knowing that it was only so long before the others would be up, getting whatever they could for breakfast before they went out to war. People tended to be surprised when they learned that Logan could cook- but having spent several decades, nonconsecutively, as a bachelor, had made him learn how to feed himself. After a bit of rooting about, he managed to find some corned beef, potatoes, onions and other ingredients and started making a hash for himself.

It was then that he smelled a very familiar scent- one that always reminded him of soft rain falling in a pristine forest and he smirked faintly. “Up pretty early, `Ro. Even for you.” He turned to her and smirked. “You want some breakfast? I ain’t no Michelin chef, but I make a decent hash.”

“I’d love that, Logan.” Ororo smiled softly, her features showing no sign of the anxiety that he knew she was feeling, not that he’d ever blame her for that. The stakes they were facing were insanely high. The only people who didn’t feel a little anxious or afraid were fools or corpses.

“If ya want to help, you can make some coffee while I deal with the food.” Logan turned towards her. “You get up early, or not go to bed at all?”

“I tried, briefly.” Ororo replied. “But I’ve spent most of the night in the greenhouse. I suspect few of us slept much.”

“Few people can, before goin’ out to war.” Logan paused for a moment as he cracked eggs into another pan. “I know what we’re doin’ isn’t quite war like I’ve been, but it’s close enough. The adrenaline of the fight’ll get you through what you need. Tomorrow night, you’ll be sleepin’ like a baby.” He grinned slightly wolfishly.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Ororo smiled faintly as she got the coffee on. “The food smells delicious. You’re quite certain you don’t have a career in cooking?”

“I don’t cook many things.” Logan replied. “But I’ve damn well mastered the few things I can cook.”

“I look forward to tasting the evidence.” Ororo walked over to him, looking over his shoulder to watch him cook for a moment. Logan seemed to go about it with the same dogged determination and surprising attention to detail as he did anything else. She didn’t need to stand on her toes or anything- she was inches taller than he was. She impulsively leaned over a little bit and kissed him on the cheek.

“Well, hey there.” Logan actually smiled. “If I woulda known I’d get that just for makin’ some hash, I would’ve gone to cooking school instead of fightin’ in all those wars.”

“Liar.” Ororo countered boldly, unable not to smile herself.

“Now yer just bein’ mean.” Logan actually laughed. “Food’s just about ready.”

X-Institute:

Remy was under orders to transmit messages to Magneto if there was anything important to say- he’d had call to do so a few times in the past. He knew that this was precisely the time when Magneto was expecting him to report in, to warn him about the X-Men coming. If Magneto had prior knowledge, that would change his plan. He could use Exodus to teleport anywhere- he might well decide to add his own strength to that of the Brotherhood. Remy could maybe be convinced to bet on the X-Men against the Brotherhood themselves, but there was no way they were defeating Magneto and his followers.

Or perhaps Magneto would send Exodus over, or some of his new Acolytes, which would have much the same result. They’d be able to prepare for the X-Men, perhaps even frame them for what the Brotherhood did. If I tell Magneto what’s up, they don’t have a chance in hell. If I keep quiet, then I get on the shitlist of one of the world’s most powerful people. Ol’ Remy doesn’t come ahead either way, does he?

But maybe I’m tired of servin’ the devils. Been travellin’ down the highway straight to hell for a long time. Maybe it’s time I put something on the other side of the ledger.

It was then that Remy LeBeau decided not to inform Magneto that the X-Men knew about his attack on Washington and were coming for him and the Brotherhood. It was unlikely he’d benefit much from it, but then again, if the world started coming apart, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want the apocalypse to be on his conscience. Maybe I’m just a sucker that way. Conscience never did me anything but get me in trouble.

Remy reached in his bedroom drawer for a cigarette. He knew that not going out with the X-Men meant that he was more likely to survive in the short-term, but part of him, perversely, wished he could. I’m not a damn hero. Heroes don’t do the things I done in my life. Heroes don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t run away.

I ain’t a hero, but maybe I don’t have to be a villain.

X-Mansion War Room:

The X-Men that were going on the mission to Washington had been assembled in the War Room, and were sitting down to look at the compiled evidence, of what would happen the next day. They didn’t have a complete picture, but Kate had given them a list of targets the Brotherhood was looking at as well as the main locations of their activities. Everything was suggesting that there was going to be a large confrontation on the White House lawn, while one of their elite agents, Mystique, who was a shapeshifter, would enter the White House itself to take out the President and other key targets.

“Wolverine, it’s going to be your job to go in and stop her. I’m not certain if she can hide scents as well, but it’s worth a shot and you can hunt with the best of them. She cannot kill the President. You have to stop her- our way if at all possible.” Scott’s words had an unspoken addition to it, which Logan picked up immediately. He wasn’t condoning the use of lethal force, not by a long shot, but the stakes were too high to reject it out of hand.

“The rest of us are going to take on the Brotherhood. Our first priority is to protect any civilians present, but not far behind, we need to take them down. Non-lethally, but not kindly either. I want their asses kicked on live television. We’ll send Magneto a message that way. This is a battle we need to win, and we need to win it big. If we’re lucky, we might actually get some good press.”

“Well, that’s optimistic. We save the world and maybe, just maybe we won’t get taken out to the woodshed on all the major networks.” Bobby leaned back slightly. “I was kind of hoping for more of a rock star treatment. Oh well.”

“Good press is something we could all use, but right now we’ve got bigger priorities than that. The entire future may well rely on what we do today. We cannot fail, we will not fail. Because we’re superheroes and saving the world is what we do. We’re the X-Men, and protecting humanity and mutantkind from each other is what we do.”

About Ten Minutes Later, X-Mansion Hangar:

There were a lot of things on Piotr Rasputin’s mind as he got ready to embark on the Blackbird for what might have been the most important mission of his life- he was not going to lie and say he wasn’t afraid, of what would happen if they failed, of perhaps losing one or more of his friends. In the end, though, he had faith in his comrades. We will triumph, because we must. Failure is not an option this time.

Before they left, however, he had some unfinished business. Quickening his pace a little, he found Kate finishing up some last-minute preparations for the mission. In the years between her youth and when she’d gone back, she’d learned some medical skills, so she was taking supplies in case someone needed patching up during or after the mission. She looked up at him and he took a breath. It was still strange, seeing this woman who was both Kitty and not, with all of her features but with eyes full of deep-seated pain.

“Kate.” Piotr finally said, taking a deep breath. “I … I am sorry. For keeping my distance, for not trusting you. For … resenting you keeping my Katya from me. You do not deserve any of that.”

Kate’s lips pursed for a moment and she stood up. “I …” She took a breath, trying to find the words. “Thank you. I understand how hard this must be for you, I really do. I promise you, Kitty will be with you again soon.” She looked upwards at him. “In the future … we were married. We would have had children, if we could. We lived in hell, but we found the strength to go on and fight for the next day, together. If we succeed today, I might be able to see him again, in a better world.”

“Nothing would make him happier.” Piotr managed a tiny smile. “We will make that world for you, so you can be happy, we can be happy. Through the years.”

“... I know it’s still strange, but … is it okay if I hug you?” Kate asked.

“Da, of course.” Piotr looked down with a small smile and wrapped his arms around her. “Soon, we shall both be reunited with our loves. Soon.”

“Soon.” Kate repeated, unable to stop tears coming to her eyes. Soon.

Washington DC:

It was a sunny morning on Capitol Hill, full of busy activity as various politicians and bureaucrats went about their daily business, as countless hundreds of tourists went about the monuments and walking trails around the American capital. It couldn’t be said to be a peaceful moment, with all of the bustle, but certainly there was nothing out of the ordinary, until the Brotherhood of Mutants started walking towards the gates of the White House. Near the gates, they were told not to come any closer by a plainly nervous guard.

“If you don’t leave the area, I’ll have to c-call the police.” The guard repeated nervously, fumbling for his gun. A quick punch from Rogue stopped his protests as he dropped to the ground, stone unconscious.

Kayla stared at the gates leading to the White House lawn. She took a deep breath, gathering her power within her and then released it in a titanic shockwave which obliterated the gates. Pyro smirked and created a wall of fire separating the outside world from the Brotherhood as they entered the White House lawn. Immediately, more guards started coming, but they were little match for the Brotherhood. Toad swiftly incapacitated several officers, while Blob effortlessly absorbed punishment before silencing the men attacking him with a hurled statue. It wasn’t long before none of the guards were able to see coherently, many of them firing on each other in confusion. Mastermind smirked in satisfaction at that lot.

Mystique nodded grimly and looked around. “I’m going in to deal with the President. The rest of you, I want you to tear this motherfucker to the ground.” She looked at Kayla. “Shockwave, darling, a way in?”

Kayla turned towards the wall of the White House, directing another seismic wave towards it, crumbling a portion of its exterior into dust, into which Raven quickly darted. It was then that the Brotherhood began to spread out some, creating destruction and havoc. The Secret Service agents and guards that faced them were hopelessly out of their depth. It would take time before any superheroes would be able to prepare and react to the brazen attack. In other words, it seemed virtually inevitable that the Brotherhood’s attack would meet with success.

“Hah! Look at them run, just like rabbits!” Pyro crowed as he summoned up twin fiery dragons to chase off a retreating group of soldiers. “I thought that there’d be some more challenge to this, really. So far, it’s gone off without a hitch.”

At that moment, there was a loud crack of thunder as the skies darkened with clouds so thick and black that it looked like night was falling again, and a cold rain began pouring down on all of them from above. Far in the distance, there was a dark jet streaking through the sky and then landing, in a park not far from them.

“You just had ta open your big mouth, didn’t ya, Pyro?” Blob groaned, a few seconds later. “How’d the X-Men know we were comin’ so fast?”

“We have our ways, Dukes.” Cyclops replied as he let loose with an optic blast, knocking several of the Brotherhood away. “Logan, get in the White House and deal with Mystique. The rest of you, we’ve got some unfinished business.”

Inside the White House:

This sort of work came naturally to Raven, between her mastery of shapeshifting and decades of training and bloody experience. Most of the meaningful resistance in the way, she could simply bypass and as for the other ones? She had means of getting rid of those as well. She had another advantage, along with everything else- a gun that was deadly as anything and yet, was actually nearly silent. One of her prize items.

The truth was, though, that it was easy to simply slip in amid the chaos in the guise of a Secret Service agent. She’d only had to kill a couple of them- for the most part, they were heading in a similar direction to her. Towards the President. To keep him safe, safe at all costs. There is nowhere safe from me. I will find that man and I will kill him. Magneto, all mutants, they were depending on her. The long-term safety and protection of her loved ones, Irene, Rogue, her Brotherhood, all of it relied on her success.

She’d taken the face of a fallen guard and she found herself ushered into a highly secure passageway, where no doubt, the President was headed. Raven deliberately hung slightly behind and then drew her gun and killed the other two guards, the faint noise of the gun barely registering in the chaos as she continued down, assuming the face of the guard who appeared to be in charge.

Muffled as it was, the sound was enough to draw the attention of more Secret Service men, who were quickly mowed down. It was there, that Raven saw him. I could end this right now. Instantly. But instead she moved to kill the men surrounding him. As for the woman near him, Raven didn’t pull the trigger, not immediately.

She hadn’t seen the woman on any of her briefings. Advisor? Mistress? If so, Raven had to admit the President had remarkable taste. The woman had picked up a gun from one of the Secret Service agents and was pointing it directly at Raven.

“Oh come on, honey. Put the gun down. Go in the corner and close your eyes and think about the royalty checks you’ll get for witnessing this.” Raven smirked. “Don’t be a hero. Heroes get killed.”

“I’m no hero.” The woman replied smoothly and pulled the trigger and Raven barely had time to move out of the way from a shot that would have neatly splattered her brains all over the floor. Raven ducked behind a column and shot the President, only to see the image flicker as the bullet passed through it. Hologram. Fuck. And a realistic one too, or I would have seen it. Who is this bitch, anyway?

“Nicely played. But I’m going to have to kill you now.” Raven rolled towards other shelter and fired again, but the woman had taken shelter behind a metal column. This calls for something to even the odds. She reached for a flashbang grenade, flinging it towards the other woman, a protective third eyelid going over her eyes, her ears blocked up to avoid the worst of the blinding, deafening explosion.

Raven’s own senses weren’t quite up for full range shooting at that time, but there were other ways of going about things. She drew a pair of knives and went in to finish the blinded woman off, only to find that no one was there. Raven’s eyes narrowed- where did she go? That’s when she felt an ice-cold prickle reach across her skull and she realized exactly what was happening. Telepath. Her eyes narrowed and she swung behind her, slashing out with her knives, startling the other woman, forcing her to drop her smell and break off her attack lest she be gutted.

“Why would you fight for him? You’re a mutant! Let me kill him!” Raven lunged towards the other woman, knives in hand.

“No.” The other woman replied simply, moving fluidly out of the way of Raven’s attack. Another one was stopped just as easily, though Raven easily got out of the way of the kick that was her counterattack. The kick telegraphed just a little too far, just a microsecond or two too slow- Raven suspected that anyone normal would have not had a chance, but she’d practiced quick strikes for years. A razor sharp blade danced along vulnerable flesh and the other woman was on the floor.

“You’re not bad, not bad at all. But I’ve been doing this for ages, honey. Shame you picked the wrong horse.” But, despite the copiously bleeding wound on the woman’s leg, she had a faint smile on her face.

“Behind you.” Tessa pointed out crisply and Raven heard the all-too familiar sound of claws popping.

Genosha:

Magneto had been watching the events unfold from his throne. It had become manifestly clear very early on that something had gone horrifically wrong. The X-Men knew I was coming to Washington. But how? The only possible answer enraged him. Gambit. He betrayed me- but for what purpose? How else could the X-Men have possibly known about his plans in time to respond to them? And it seemed as if they were at least matching, if not overpowering the Brotherhood.

Watching the fight unfold, it was more and more clear- his followers fought bravely, but Xavier’s minions seemed to be battling with a purpose and urgency well beyond theirs. One by one, they were being felled. It was not meant to be like this. The Brotherhood of Mutants was supposed to be invulnerable, virtually undefeatable in the field. But this? This suggested otherwise. The evidence before his eyes forced him to make a conclusion he did not relish.

They were not strong enough.

Their ultimate defeat seemed all but certain now, because they were simply not strong enough, smart enough, determined enough to see his dream through. Even Raven. The thought stung him, added a touch of sorrow to his anger, but it was true. And I, I am the fool, to open my heart to people who cannot see the true path. The only path. But that judgement would have to wait until later.

“Exodus.” Magneto called, but aloud and with his mind and his most loyal, most powerful follower manifested himself in a moment. “I need you to send me to Washington.”

“My lord, are the Brotherhood-?” Exodus asked.

“Failing. They lack your conviction.” Magneto replied simply. “I need you to look after Genosha while I am gone. It should not be long.” He took a deep breath. “It is long past time that I sorted out Xavier’s minions personally.”

“Of course, Lord Magneto.” Exodus bowed. He spread his hands open wide, and before he knew it, Magneto had gone to Washington DC.

Chapter Text

Outside the White House:

“I do wonder, Tinman, just how much heat you can handle.” Pyro blasted his flamethrowers, using his power to increase the heat to near-unimaginable levels, covering Piotr in flames. “Even steel melts if it gets hot enough.”

However, he wasn’t able to sustain it for long, because he had to promptly roll out of the way of a flurry of balls of hard-frozen ice lobbed at him by the frozen X-Man, the one who’d been annoying everyone on his slides since the battle had begun.

“Whoa, dude, cool it!” Bobby smirked as a blast of small pallets of ice caught John in the chest, hard enough to knock him down and kick the wind out of him. However, Bobby hadn’t been watching his side and suddenly he was leapt upon by Toad, who kicked him off his slide and sent him flying through the air.

“Much obliged, Toad.” John saluted him as he let out another blast in the general direction of the gigantic Russian. However, he didn’t get a chance to send out another blast, as he felt a weight suddenly heavy on his back and then the next thing he knew, he was caught up in a flurry of flashing movements and brimstone and before he knew it, he was completely unconscious.

“Who’s next?” Kurt grinned as he flashed back into existence, beside Pyro’s unconscious form.

“Try this!” Kayla growled as the air rippled in front of her, forcing Kurt to teleport away from the shockwave, which continued on until it hit a cement fence, shattering it nearly into dust.

Further away, Storm found herself busy putting out the numerous fires that Pyro had begun- now that his mutant power was no longer feeding them further, the infernos withered and died under a cold, driving rain.

“Now don’t you think it’s just a little rude, putting out a boy’s fires like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!” Rogue declared as she took to the skies after Storm. Irene’s words still rattled in her head, but what did that mean, exactly? She couldn’t turn on her friends, could she? She tore after the other flying mutant, forcing Storm to break off her efforts an an attempt to avoid her.

One that’s futile. I’m faster than her and she knows it. It was then that Rogue felt it, heard it, smelled the scent of ozone as shocking electric pain surged through her. Her muscles twitched of their own accord, but only for a second. She remained aloft. Gonna take more than a few lightning bolts to take me out.

But am I supposed to? Should I be helping them after all? Why is everything so damn complicated? She continued to avoid the lightning bolts, closing in on Storm, until there was another deafening noise and a sudden feeling of heat and her vision flickered for a few moments between being blurry and being blacked out, as she fell towards Earth. Rogue had to gasp for breath as she hit the ground, hard.

What happened?

On some intellectual level, Scott knew that there wasn’t a virtual labyrinth of walls around him, blocking his every move. But when he touched them, they felt real and when he blasted them apart, he saw that one was immediately replaced by another. It was supremely frustrating. One of the Brotherhood is doing this, but I’m not sure which one. Scott knew that he had to be careful too, because it would be very easy for one of his blasts to inadvertently target a civilian or another one of his X-Men.

The walls shifted all around him, constantly moving along with him. He looked around himself carefully, trying to see if anything looked out of place. If any one of the walls wasn’t properly generated. His hand reached up for his visor. He could control the intensity of the beam but he could also control its maximum range, with extreme effort and the assistance of its settings. Maybe if I cut the range out to only about twenty feet. And it doesn’t need to be hard, either. Just a nudge and whoever is doing this will probably lose focus. The settings adjusted, he started blasting in random directions, hoping that whoever was doing this to him was near. He didn’t hear any cries of surprise or pain. Forty feet. But this time, before he did it, Scott immediately spun backwards on his heels fast, shooting directly behind him. This time, there was a definite shout and the illusory walls flickered around him.

This time, Scott let out a more powerful blast, the force of it hopefully sufficient to knock the mutant illusionist out. Thus freed of the constraints of that mutant’s power, he could take quick stock of the situation. Overall, it was looking fairly good, though several of the Brotherhood mutants were still active. He immediately unleashed an optic blast at the shockwave girl, who he’d reckoned was probably their most serious threat, that and the flying one who appeared to have been knocked into a sizeable crater.

The mutant that looked to be in the worst condition at the moment was Betsy, who had been picked up by the Blob, who looked to be slowly squeezing the life out of her. Scott unleashed an optic blast towards the bloated mutant’s head, but it didn’t stop him.

I can’t breathe, Betsy realized in horror. I’m … she tried to force her lungs to breathe in but the pressure around her was too steady, too relentless. Not quite enough to crush her, but enough to cut the life off of her. She flailed helplessly with her hands, but it did nothing. His flesh couldn’t be scratched or punched to any effect. She tried to reach out with her mind, to hurt him, but it was so hard to focus enough to do anything about it. It was then, as her vision started to go blurry that she saw the intense purple energy form out of her fist in the shape of a blade. In a last gasp of desperation, she jammed it into the side of his head as fast as she could. Betsy felt his grip immediately slacken as he fell, thankfully, backwards.

Shaking, she extracted herself. The battle was still going on, but it was looking more and more like they were winning. Hopefully Logan gets to the shapeshifter quickly enough, Betsy thought as she stood up on wobbly feet and sucked in another gasp of air.

Scott looked over at her. “... nice trick there. You can explain it later. I need you to take out Shockwave Girl over there. Colossus, get on the flying one. Nightcrawler, Toad. I want him out of the battle. Iceman, back him up. Storm, make sure all the fires are out. Shadowcat, I want you to go in and be backup for Wolverine should he need it.”

We might just win today. Hopefully Magneto doesn’t send a second wave of reinforcements, though. The X-Men had done well, very well, but he knew they were tired. He fired another optic blast towards Toad, trying to herd the amphibian-like mutant towards Kurt who might be able to take him out with repeated teleportations. No choice but to keep fighting on. He wondered, however, how Logan was getting on.

White House Panic Room:

Logan growled at Mystique as he moved towards her. “Give up, Raven. You know damn well you aren’t gonna win this one.”

Raven turned to face him, yellow eyes narrowing. “Why would you fight against our kind, Logan? After all they’ve done- to you more than anyone?”

“It’s the right thing ta do.” Logan replied with a faint smirk. “So if you really wanna dance that badly, come on.”

Raven hurled one of her knives as hard as she could, knowing the vibranium blade would dig deep into the softer tissue of his throat. It wouldn’t kill him, far from it, but it’d buy her time to depart and finish the deed. But before she could get far, she heard a gunshot ring out and felt an immediate explosive pain in her knee and immediately Raven went down onto the ground hard. She looked over to see the pale woman, paler now, trembling slightly, blood pooling around her slashed leg, holding a gun aimed at her head.

The next thing she heard was a strange liquid gasp as Logan pulled the blade out of his throat, the wound visibly closing around, though blood was still pouring liberally from it. Raven turned back towards the dark-haired woman pointing the gun at her.

“Go ahead and pull the damn trigger.” Raven managed to spit out. She tried her best to drag herself to where her gun had gone, but before she could, Logan leapt over and kicked it away, his vocal chords having healed enough to permit him to growl, though the effort was sending blood bubbling out of his mouth. Another kick from his adamantium-laced foot was enough to knock Raven unconscious.

“Put the gun down.” Logan managed to croak over to Tessa. “She ain’t gettin’ back up anytime soon. She’ll heal, eventually. Not as fast as me, though.” He looked over at her. “Put it down. You don’t want blood on your hands, darlin’. You’ve more than done your part by the looks of it.”

“You have no idea how much blood I’ve got on my hands.” Tessa managed to reply shakily, but she did as she asked. “... I don’t suppose you know anything about dressing a wound?” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ve got about five minutes before this blood loss becomes a very serious medical problem. And another fifteen or so before it kills me.”

Logan nodded. “Lie back.” He went over and grabbed a coat off of one of the Secret Service agents. “We’ll get this done up good enough to hold ya over till a doctor comes. What’s your name?”

“Tessa.” Tessa replied quietly. “With any luck, the President is safe.”

“Me too. Got a lot ridin’ on that guy. Even if I didn’t vote for him.” Logan smirked faintly as he started the work of stopping the bleeding and properly dressing her injury.

“I’m going to assume your Canadian accent divulges the reason for that.” Tessa managed to say, before she stopped for a moment, eyes widening. “... do you feel that?”

Logan nodded slowly. In truth, he could feel it in his bones. The adamantium in his bones was beginning to vibrate at a strange pitch. Oh shit. “Magneto.” He must’ve figured out he was losing the battle. Probably came to make sure he won personally.

It was at that moment that Logan saw the form of Kitty- Kate, she’s still Kate right now, coming through the wall. Logan looked at her urgently.

“The President’s safe as far as we know. But Magneto’s here. If we don’t stop him, it won’t matter where he is. Magneto’ll rip the city apart lookin’ for him. We gotta go.” He looked at Tessa. “Help’ll be comin’ for you soon. We owe ya one. Call on Charley’s X-Mansion and ol’ Wolverine’ll buy you a beer sometime.”

“Brave words. I may just take you up on that.” Tessa managed to curve her lips in a faint smile. The bleeding had largely abated thanks to Logan’s impromptu dressing. She grabbed the gun again. Four bullets. If Raven so much as moves, I’m emptying the clip into her skull. She wouldn’t have hesitated, but at the same time, she found herself hoping that that wouldn’t be necessary.

Outside the White House:

Rogue was certain that the giant X-Man who had apprehended her expected her to kick and struggle, but she’d given that up. She could tell that he was stronger- far stronger than she was, which she found personally disconcerting. But Rogue also knew, deep down, that it was probable that she needed to lose, to surrender to the X-Men, and hope they’d take her with them. She’d given up on struggling and cursing as the big metal guy took her over to their leader, the one with the red visor.

“... I give up, okay? Just, y’all take me with you, and don’t leave me for the Feds.” Rogue looked down at the ground, the real emotion of the moment catching her by surprise. I never got a chance to say a proper goodbye to anyone.

Cyclops looked at the young woman with the striped hair for a moment and found himself feeling a certain sympathy for her. She didn’t seem to be evil or twisted or brutal in any way- probably just another lost soul who’d fallen in for Magneto’s charisma. He took a long breath and nodded quietly. “You can come with us, but we’d better go fast. Don’t try anything.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Sc- Cyclops?” Bobby asked, raising his eyebrow. “I mean, I’m all for helping out cute rebellious types, but she’s kind of a terrorist who was part of a plot to kill the President. Shouldn’t we be letting her go on trial, legally?”

“Some trial she’d get.” A Chinese woman with purple hair and eyes cut in. “I say we give the girl a chance. Maybe being hit by that missile knocked some damned sense in her.”

“... Unfortunately, I do not think we’re going to get a chance to resolve this situation immediately.” Ororo said, pointing at the security fence, which, along with virtually everything else metallic around them, was beginning to vibrate.

Rogue looked up and all the colour drained from her face immediately. No. It had all gone as close to a decent plan as possible. The X-Men had beaten the Brotherhood fair and square and she could’ve gone with them, as a prisoner, perhaps, but unharmed and maybe capable of sending a message to her family, that she was all right. But if Magneto’s here, then I am going to have to decide. Once and for all. And know that it’s gonna be my neck if I pick the wrong side.

“I tire of you X-Men constantly interfering with my plans, undermining the future of the mutant race. Why do you so strongly resist what is not only inevitable, but right?” The security fence melted away, as did the metallic portions of several vehicles, dissolving into a vortex of glittering, razor-sharp spines whirring around Magneto. A crackle and the scent of ozone in the air suggested that they were electrified as well. “It brings me no joy to destroy you, but we must prevail. No matter the cost.”

God help me, but I’ve made up my mind. Rogue took the half-moment of hesitation of the Russian and managed to wriggle out, flying up into the air. I know what I have to do.

At Ground Level:

Cyclops didn’t hesitate to fire an optic blast at Magneto’s suddenly appearing form, though he wasn’t surprised when the blast seemed to glance off of Magneto’s shield with utterly no effect. Nor was he surprised that, with a gesture, Piotr was picked up and thrown away by Magneto. A big steel guy and another person with adamantium bones. Not the best assets against the Master of Magnetism.

He was assessing the situation. Honestly, it wasn’t good. As long as Magneto had his shields up at full strength, virtually nothing was bringing him down. Storm could do little more than harass him with her powers, though it was better than nothing. Nightcrawler might be able to help if he could get in close, but the crackling of the shield and whirring metallic blades would mean any miscalculation would be brutally fatal. If they could knock his helmet off, Psylocke might be able to attack him telepathically.

Cyclops also had to consider what the Brotherhood girl was going to do. She seemed to be accepting enough of her captivity- even seeming to want it, but now that Magneto was here, she might feel little choice but to fight with him. He couldn’t be too upset with her over that- the math would’ve suggested that was simple self-preservation.

“Iceman. Get him encased in a shell. Storm, do anything to harass him, cut down his visibility. Anything. Kurt get ready to teleport and take the helmet off the instant his shields drop. Psylocke, get ready to take him down mentally. Hopefully Colossus gets back up here soon.” Cyclops unleashed another optic blast.

His jaw nearly dropped, however, when he saw Rogue come up behind Magneto and then divebomb him. He heard the crack as she broke the sound barrier and almost immediately afterwards, the sickening crackle of his shield hitting her and an utterly bloodcurdling scream. The girl almost immediately went limp and fell off of him, hitting the ground hard. The shield looked just a touch less solid, though, and it was clear that Magneto had been jostled around badly inside it. It was then that a rapidly spinning, circular object managed to go straight through Magneto’s shield as if it didn’t exist and connect solidly against the man’s helmet.

The shield fizzled and fell and it was all Magneto could do to break his fall and look up at the X-Men around him, and the new arrivals on the scene.

“You’re outnumbered and outgunned, Magneto.” Captain America declared, as Iron Man and Thor came down to hover near him and Giant Man, the Wasp, the Black Widow and Quicksilver caught up on land. Hawkeye was doubtlessly nearby as well, no doubt with an arrow trained at Magneto.

“Fools.” Magneto managed to cough through a bloody mouth as he staggered to his feet. “You cannot defeat evolution. Mutants will inherit the world. And I will be there to guide them.” His eyes narrowed as, just before anyone could attack him, he vanished from the scene.

“... I would not have thought one so mighty would be such a coward.” Thor declared as he came down upon the ground.

Captain America looked at Cyclops and offered his hand. “We owe you one. Everyone. If you hadn’t got here first, God only knows what he could’ve done here.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, Scott took his hand and shook it. “We owe you one too … and … the girl.” He broke off the handshake. “Nightcrawler! The girl … is she?”

“Alive?” Kurt nodded. “Yes. Badly hurt, I think, but she is alive. Hitting the ground may very well have restarted her heart. It happens like that.”

“The girl …” Captain America began.

“The girl saved us, and maybe you as well. She’s scared, and young and she needs a second chance. And someone to help her along the way, don’t you think?” Scott looked at him. “We can help her.”

“It’s not so simple as that.” Captain America replied. “She gravely hurt one of our members, some time ago.”

“Never figured you for the vengeance type, Steve.” Wolverine smirked faintly as he came out of the ground with a young woman in tow. “What happened to Carol was awful, a real damn shame, but if she really saved all our asses, then maybe she should be given a chance to make some amends for what she’s done wrong. `Sides, how old is the kid? Eighteen? Nineteen?”

Captain America took a deep breath and nodded. “We’ll leave her in your custody, then. You’ve earned that trust today. See to it that she goes down the right path.”

“We will.” Scott winced slightly as he saw the camera crews advancing on the scene already.

Captain America glanced at them. “I’m going to shake your hand again. Smile and look at the cameras. I figure it’ll be worth a day or two of good press.”

“Or bad press for you.” Scott replied with a faint chuckle.

“I don’t mind bad press, as long as it’s for doing the right thing.” Captain America took Scott’s hand and shook it firmly.

“We hardly get any other kind.” Scott added with a smile. “We’d better get the rest of the Brotherhood mopped up and in custody, though. I’d hate to have another battle. Washington’s got enough of a mess to clean up.”

Purity International Headquarters:

The Reverend Stryker stared venomously at the cup of black coffee sitting before him, getting cold. I really do wish you were a proper drink right now. He hated himself, for the thought, though. He’d made a holy oath to the Lord not to drink alcohol and he wasn’t going to violate it, even in such despair as he felt tonight. The X-Men were on the news as having saved the city from mutant terrorists and the footage of their leader shaking hands with Captain America was making the rounds, both on official news stations and on the Internet.

There was no denying that the events in Washington had been a setback, a most serious one. But even more damning was the fact that he’d failed to kill Sebastian Shaw. Indeed, he’d been sent the remains of some of his men. The others had looked away, a few had been ill. But Stryker had made himself look. Their souls are in Heaven, having well-earned it with their blood and pain. But it left a bad taste in Stryker’s mouth. It seemed that, no matter what happened, the mutants were either too powerful or found some clever ways of overcoming or escaping.

“I hope you were never under the impression that this would be a swift or easy war.” Bastion announced as he walked into the room. “We’ve suffered a grevious setback today.” But today at least, there was no sarcastic chiding. “But even as the mutants celebrate, our forces grow stronger. Magneto remains in power in Genosha. In two weeks, he will once more be the face of mutantkind. And need I remind you that this … unfortunate coverage is the result of mutants fighting each other? They may celebrate their victories, but they’ve only weakened themselves. Magneto is still powerful enough to inspire fear, but not powerful enough now to enact his agenda. The X-Men may be flushed with confidence, but they’re not a political force.”

Bastion looked down at Stryker. “Our time is coming. I have seen it in my dreams. The future is glorious. Get some rest for tonight. Take a few days and regain your strength, your will, your nerve. Our great crusade will be waiting for you, Reverend. We will have victory, if not today, then soon.”

Stryker nodded and got up. “Thank you, Bastion. You’re right. We will see victory. The Lord is on our side.”

There will be a victory, Bastion thought to himself. But not for your misbegotten species. Your reign on this earth is near an end.

X-Mansion:

When they got back, there was nothing to do for Kate but to collapse, partly out of physical exhaustion but also in a profound emotional exhaustion. I did it. We did it. And yet, she found that she could not take the same joy as the others did. Instead, she found herself weeping, out of a bizarre combination of sadness, relief, joy and simple exhaustion. She didn’t know what she was going to get back to. She hoped, prayed, it would be something better.

She heard a knock on her door and realized instantly that it was Piotr. “Come in.” She managed to say, astonished at how tight her voice sounded as it came out of her mouth.

“Hello. I … I thought I would bring you some food from upstairs. And because, I know you are leaving soon. And I thought, if you didn’t mind, that I could be company. But if you want to be alone, I could go as well.” Piotr looked at her, setting down the tray of party snacks and what looked like an absolutely ice-cold beer.

She didn’t really have any appetite, but the beer on the other hand, she picked it up thankfully and took a long drink of it. “I … I’d like the company, honestly.” She paused for a moment. “You be good to her … me, her. You hear me? Or I will come back in time and kick your ass.” Kate declared. “You promise me that, okay?”

Piotr nodded solemnly. “I promise.” He moved over to her, taking her hand, with a gentleness that always astonished her, considering how immensely strong he was. “None of us will waste this second chance you’ve given us. Thank you, for that.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Do you know when you’re going?”

Kate shook her head. “Not exactly. But some time tonight.” She took a breath. “I don’t know if Kitty will remember this. I … if she asks, you might as well tell her everything. I know me. She won’t stop kicking your ass until you do.”

Piotr chuckled faintly. “Yes, I know. Lying to Katya is not a good idea. It is hard enough to give her a surprise party.”

“But she secretly loves them. No matter how much she complains about them.” Kate smiled. “I still do. Maybe I’ll have one soon, when I go back.” She leaned back and took another sip of her beer. “Thank you. For being some company.”

“Yeah, well, he ain’t alone.” Logan smirked faintly. “You think I’m gonna let you go back to the future without sayin’ goodbye?” He didn’t look the slightest bit surprised when Kate practically lept up to hug him tightly. “Careful half-pint, you’re stronger than you think.” He actually laughed. “Also, I brought more beer, because why the hell should you go back into the future sober?”

“You’re the best.” Kate grinned at him and then smiled warmly at Piotr. “You’re the best too.” She wiped at her eyes. “God, I’m a mess.”

“You are never a mess.” Piotr replied softly.

Kate sniffed slightly. “Yeah, I am. But whatever, it’s my going-away party and I’ll cry if I want to. And get hammered too, by the looks of it. A twelve pack, Logan, really?”

“Between me and the giant Russian, we’d need a lot more than that.” Logan smirked.

“Please, Piotr’s a cheap drunk. He’ll be three sheets to the wind by beer number three.” Kate smirked. She leaned over slightly and gently tapped his nose. “Boop.” She took a breath. “I haven’t felt this happy in … I don’t even know how long. Thank you, for believing in me. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, halfpint.” Logan replied seriously. “Any time.”

X-Mansion, Main Floor:

“And then, just when I thought I was done for, this strange blade thing formed in my hand, and with my last breath, I just sort of … jammed it into his head. And next thing I know he was toppling over and I could actually breathe again.” Betsy smiled as she held court from a particularly comfortable spot on Hank’s lap. “I hope you weren’t too bored here at the school.” She turned towards Hank and kissed his nose.

“Oh, on the contrary, I got a lot of important work done.” Hank grinned. “And getting groceries for the inevitable victory celebration. It turns out our friend Mr. LeBeau is quite a chef.”

“Hey, I gotta do something, right? I get you don’t feel you can take me along on your big mission. Even if it hurts. But you can’t stop me from makin’ you all a victory feast when you get back.” Remy grinned slickly as he took a long sip of his beer. Doing the right thing, doesn’t feel bad.

“... wait. You made these chicken wings?” Bobby gasped. “Dude. You are my best damn friend right now.”

“They are pretty good.” Scott opined as he finished one off. “A little on the mild side, but good.”

“... the mild side? Now, you’re just hurting my feelings, mon ami.” Remy sighed dramatically. “I hate to think what you call ‘hot’, Monsieur Summers.”

“Thinking is one thing. Tasting is another. I assure you, no man in his right mind dares consume Scott’s atomic death wings without a very, very abundant supply of milk within reach.” Hank adjusted his glasses with a faint smile.

Ororo smiled broadly and walked over to give Scott a little hug. “And yet, somehow, we have found it in our hearts to forgive you.”

“They’re not that hot.” Scott protested weakly, though he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Okay, I’ll say this. Your wings are better than your coffee. That shit is undrinkable, dude. Seriously, anyone tried Scott’s coffee?” Bobby grinned. “Worst. Coffee. Ever. But you know, I don’t think anyone else could have led us to success out there.”

“Actually, I disagree.” Scott replied. “Our team … our family is growing. And I think we’re getting to the point where there definitely needs to be, at least, a co-leader. There’s going to be times, in the future, where there’s going to be two teams of the X-Men in the field.” He looked at Ororo. “And I think I speak for everyone, when I say that you’d be perfect for the role.”

Ororo smiled brilliantly. “I thank you. And now, I believe I might have another glass of wine after all. I can rue accepting in the morning.”

“Oh believe me, darling, many of us will probably have a thing or two to rue in the morning. Though you’re not allowed to drink too much, Mr. McCoy.” Betsy grinned wickedly.

“And why is that, I might ask?” Hank replied playfully, only to be quieted as Betsy whispered something into his ear. “I see.” Ororo swore she could see just the faintest purple tinge underneath the blue fur.

X-Mansion Infirmary:

Rogue awoke to a splitting headache and to lingering pains throughout her body. She held out her hand and realized that there were tiny cuts across it. Her hands closed into a fist and sent it smashing into a desk, which virtually exploded under it. She cursed quietly under her breath and then realized that it had been done. I’m with them now. When will I be able to see my Mom and Momma again?

Ignoring all of her aches and pains, she curled up into a small ball, unable to do anything but cry, cry until there were no more tears left and she could only sniffle faintly. What have I done? God, please, if you’re out there. Tell me I did the right thing. Please. She didn’t hear anything. Of course I wouldn’t hear anything. If there is a God, he wants nothing to do with me.

“I can assure you, that is not true at all.” A quiet, heavily German-accented voice said in the darkness. “You may have saved the future for all of us through what you have done. And God loves all of us, even the greatest of sinners.”

“... I done some pretty bad things in my life.” Rogue replied miserably. “And you’d best come out of there, I don’t like talking to shadows.” She let out a little gasp of surprise when she finally saw him. Dark blue, almost black in the gloom. Ominously glowing yellow eyes. And … was that a tail? The moment passed quickly, though. She was used to mutants. “You talk pretty nicely about God for someone who must’ve had a lot of trouble with his folks.”

“God gave me strength, when I was weak. He offered me His love, when all I encountered was hate, and He gave me purpose, when I despaired.” Kurt smiled faintly. “But I do not mean to preach. I mostly just wanted to see how you were feeling.”

“Terrible.” Rogue replied. “I feel terrible.” She sighed. “So … this prison cell sucks. No offense.”

“You are not our prisoner.” Kurt replied. “You are free to go if you wish. It would be hard to stop you, if you were determined to do so. Your gifts are very impressive.”

“Only the ones I stole.” Rogue grumbled harshly. She slumped, however. “I won’t be leaving here anytime soon. I don’t have anywhere to go anymore.”

“You have this place.” Kurt smiled faintly. “Some of the others may not trust you right away. I do not know what you have done in the past, but what I saw was an incredible act of bravery and selflessness. One that you very nearly did not survive, in truth. The medical report suggests that your heart stopped for a moment. Hitting the ground restarted it.”

“I feel half-dead.” Rogue replied honestly. “So what’s your name, anyway?”

“As an X-Man, I am Nightcrawler.” Kurt smiled. “But you can call me Kurt. And you?”

“My name is Anna-Marie, but most people just call me Rogue. Fits.” Rogue shrugged slightly and then sighed. “So … what’s the deal with this place? And your .. team. Really?”

“This building is a school, and a sanctuary. Where mutants can develop their powers and figure themselves out, free of hatred and discrimination. As for the X-Men, we are there to try and maintain peace. To keep mutants and humans and different groups of mutants from harming each other.”

“Sounds like a great way to get yourself killed.” Rogue replied. “That’s what happens to people who try to stand between people trying to tear each other apart. They get killed.”

“Sometimes, they do. I have acknowledged that it could very well be my life one day, but that being said, I do have delusions of seeing old age. I’ve always been curious about whether my fur would go grey like ordinary hair, or if I’ll remain blue for the rest of my life.”

“You’re a real dork, aren’t you?” Rogue couldn’t help but smile faintly, though.

“Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.” Kurt laughed.

“But thank you. For talking to me. I … I think I need a little time alone right now. Got a lot on my mind.” Rogue sighed. “I had to leave a lot of friends behind. I know you probably think they’re all a bunch of terrorists, but a lot of them are good people. Really good people. Just …”

“I understand.” Kurt replied. “Completely. It is very easy for good people to be lost in the wrong cause. I’m glad you joined us, though.”

“Me too. Maybe.” Rogue looked at him for a moment. “Thanks again, though. Maybe we’ll talk again, sometime soon?”

“I’m always around.” Kurt grinned brightly, before exiting with a distinct bamf.

X-Mansion, Twenty Years in the Future:

Kate Pryde had closed her eyes in her old bedroom about four in the morning, the artificial warmth of alcohol still thrumming in her system, a smile half-formed on her face from being able to spend her last moments in the past with her two favorite people in the whole world. She’d pulled up the sheets above her head and wished the past a fond goodbye as she’d settled into an exhausted sleep, that was, thankfully, dreamless.

When she awoke, it was in her own body, a little achier than her younger self was, but also a bit more comfortable. That she’d awoken in a bed was a good sign already- she felt hungry, but not starving. And it was very clear from the gentle, almost soothing sound of breathing that there was someone next to her. She turned around to see Piotr, distinguished with greying hair but otherwise clearly in fantastic condition, quietly sleeping.

Kate had been told when she was preparing to go back that her memories would slowly synchronize with the life she’d lived. Right now, the memories were hazy, but she knew, in her guts, that most all of the people she’d loved and lost, they were still alive. She knew, could feel, there had been a few friends lost along the way, but even they, their graves would be surrounded by flowers, shaded by trees in the Institute’s memorial grounds. Remembered by their loved ones. Looking down on them from a better place.

And then something hit her like a thunderbolt.

I’m a member of Congress.

I’ve sat in the House of Representatives for five years now. I’m preparing an election campaign to be the Mayor of New York. Not Chicago. But I guess I’ve lived in New York since I was a teenager.

If the first realization had struck her like a thunderbolt, the other touched something far deeper.

I’m a mother. Piotr and I have three beautiful children. Two boys and a girl. Sam’s a teenager now.

She rolled over for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, feeling tears pricking her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy.

We did it.

X-Mansion, back in the Present:

Piotr had gone to bed, expecting not to be able to sleep, wondering what things were going to be like when Kitty returned, how much she would remember of Kate, how he was going to tell her what happened if she didn’t. However, he’d found that simple exhaustion and taken over and he’d fallen asleep quite quickly.

He awoke to find that he wasn’t alone. And indeed, there was someone perched on top of him.

“Miss me, handsome?” Kitty grinned down at him and then leaned in for a long, deep kiss that lasted until they were both out of breath.

“Very much.” Piotr smiled up at her, planting kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his hands resting comfortably at her hips. After a moment, though, he looked at her. “How much do you remember?”

“Everything.” Kitty replied, and her eyes darkened slightly. “We can talk about it later? I’m enjoying the idea of being back right now. You might not mind either.” She grinned, a touch devilishly and shifted her hips against him.

“Katya.” Piotr practically growled as he flipped them over and kissed her again, pressing up against her as her legs wrapped comfortably around his waist.

“That’s my name.” She practically purred, using her phasing powers to remove the last layers between them. She smirked then and flipped them over again, hands resting on his chest, a smirk of triumph on her face. Long, chestnut brown curls brushed against him as her eyes flashed brightly. “I get to be on top this time.” She grinned. “Deal with it.”

“I think … I can deal with that quite well indeed.” Piotr smiled back at her.

Genosha:

The Brotherhood, including Raven, have been captured and imprisoned. The President and my other targets are all alive. My power and authority, here in Genosha, and abroad, have been compromised severely. The X-Men only grow in their power and confidence.

Raven’s daughter. Rogue. She betrayed us. Attacked me. Were it not for her, I might very well have defeated both the X-Men and the Avengers. But as it is, I must drink deep of the bitter draught of defeat.

The Brotherhood were not strong enough, not loyal enough, not determined enough. My Acolytes must not waver. Our work on Genosha, in the world, is too important for that. They must be single minded in their purpose.

Magneto tried his best to ignore the aches and pains that racked his body, but it was difficult. He’d suffered a concussion from Captain America’s shield and whiplash from when Rogue had attacked his shield. He would recover before too long, but the image of unlimited power he’d built up over time had been irrevocably broken. He’d been defeated, personally, for the first time in years. His enemies would no doubt be toasting that as they celebrated.

Let the fools celebrate. They can’t fight the future. Mutants will rule the world, one way or another.

He wondered if perhaps in the past, he had been too merciful, too willing to let his enemies go, even willing to allow them to defeat him, hoping they would see the light. It had become painfully clear that he could not expect Xavier’s brood to understand the necessity of his struggle, of mutantkind’s struggle for freedom. It gave him no pleasure to contemplate it, but he realized that his ultimate triumph might need to be written over the graves of the X-Men.

A bitter thought to contemplate. But we must prevail. No matter what.

For the immediate future, however, he had too much vitally important work on Genosha to risk his resources on overseas ventures. Magneto had a nation to build and a people to shepherd into a glorious future.

That glorious future will come to pass. No matter the cost. I would destroy half the world, if our people could, finally, live in peace on the other half.

X-Mansion, later that night:

Scott awoke with a start to realize that the phone was ringing. If one of the damn kids needs a ride home from some house party they’re not supposed to attend. He rolled over, however, and his eyes immediately went wide. Jean. He picked up the phone as quickly as he could, wondering what it was. Fear and hope became alive in him at the same time.

“Jean?” Scott replied, trying to sound calm and measured.

“Scott.” Jean replied in a soft voice. “I’m sorry about everything. I’m sure it must have been difficult getting that letter, but I just needed to clear my head about a lot of things.”

“Don’t worry about that … are you all right?” Scott tried, desperately, to maintain an even tone. Jean sounded fine, happy even, but something was worrying him about the situation. Something felt decidedly off.

“I’m fine! You worry too much. You put so much responsibility on your shoulders, Scott.” Jean laughed softly. “I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. Do you remember the bridge, about a half-mile from the school?”

“Of course I do.” Scott replied. We went over that bridge half a thousand times when we were together. We first kissed there.

“You should come to the bridge. I’m there right now. I know it’s late, but … there’s so much I want to say to you, talk about, I couldn’t keep it all bottled up until morning.” Jean chuckled warmly. “I know, it sounds crazy from a girl who sometimes went to bed at 9:30, but please, just come out.”

“... of course. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.” Scott replied, his head spinning, practically breathless. “Jean .. it’s good to hear from you again.”

“And you too. I love you, Scott.” If he’d been feeling breathless before, whatever remained was taken away by hearing that.

“I love you too, Jean. Always. No matter what.” Scott declared to the phone. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Twenty minutes. Don’t be late.” Jean practically purred into the phone.

“Since when have I been late for anything?” Scott replied, as if they were having a normal conversation.

“Never. And don’t start.” Scott could imagine the amused smirk on her face as if it was yesterday.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Jean.”

Footbridge, near the Xavier Institute:

“Very well played, Madelyne.” Essex smiled faintly as she disconnected the call. “No doubt, he’ll be here early as usual.”

Madelyne smirked coolly. “He’s clearly desperate to see his precious Jean Grey. Do I look enough like her to fool him? I suppose I could use my telepathy if not, but … I do sometimes prefer to manipulate a man in the old-fashioned way.”

“Oh, I assure you, you’re the spitting image of her.” Essex’s faint smile turned into a predatory smirk. “Greycrow has point up above us. Philippa and Victor will be ready to strike when he arrives. I will not be far away. Should there be any trouble … we’ll more than ready for it. Not that I expect there will be. The poor, benighted boy will follow his restlessly beating heart, like a lamb to the slaughter.”

Madelyne turned and saw the lights of a car not far from where they were. “And here he comes, Father.” She looked down in mild distaste at the clothes Essex had provided her. “Jean Grey must have been a very, very boring woman.”

“On the contrary, she positively burned with potential. Unrealized, of course.” Essex replied with a faint smile. “She had power much like your own, but instead of embracing it as you have, she seeked to deny it. To cling to her humanity, afraid to lose herself to the fires within, to become one with them. And it was that foolish hesitation that ultimately destroyed her.” Essex glanced again. “It is time. The boy is important to my schemes. He must be taken alive and … mostly unharmed.” It was then that Essex walked behind a growth of trees and seemed to disappear completely.

The car came to a stop near the footbridge and Scott came out. It was difficult to read his expression precisely as his visor hid his eyes but it was easy to feel the hope radiating from his mind in all directions.

“Jean?” Scott gasped, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. Madelyne walked up to him, carefully, slowly at first but then her step quickening. She willed her heart to beat faster as Jean’s would have. The man she was to entrap was a handsome boy, no doubt, but far too goodly for her tastes. Boring. Repressed. Just like Jean Grey must have been.

“Scott.” Madelyne finally said after a moment’s pause, eyes moistening with crocodile tears. “I missed you so much.” She leaned in and kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry about what happened, Scott.” Her arms slipped around his neck and she looked up at him. “There’s something I need to to ask you, Scott.”

“Of course. Anything.” Scott replied, wondering what it was. He felt his heart hammering relentlessly in his chest. It felt so right, so perfect, so natural to be holding her again, his arms settling around her waist. “What is it, Jean?”

Madelyne looked into his eyes for a long moment and then dropped the mask, smirking coldly at him. “Just how much of a fucking idiot are you, anyway?” Before he could react, her knee slammed between his legs and then she pushed him away. “Your girlfriend’s dead, Scott.” Psychic fire covered her in a twisted halo and her green eyes flashed with malice. “My Daddy killed her and cut up her body for his experiments. All because you let her go. You fool.”

“No …” Whatever, whoever did this to you, I know you’re in there somewhere, Jean. “You have to fight it, Jean. Whatever they’ve done to you. Come back with me. The Professor can help you.”

Madelyne laughed derisively and levitated Scott up into the air before dropping him into the river. Using her telekinesis, she kept him, thrashing and kicking, under the water, for a full minute before letting him come up for one gasp of air before she pushed him down again. She looked up to her father’s man in the trees and nodded faintly. A virtually silent stun round finished it just as quickly as it had all started.

Another one of her father’s enforcers, a brutish woman named Philippa, dragged him out of the water. She sneered at Scott’s features.

“Fuckin’ pretty boy.” She spat on him, smirking insolently down at his unconscious form. “Coulda just had Greycrow snipe him from the trees.”

“I could have.” Essex admitted with a cold grin and suddenly, the woman froze in virtual terror. “But sometimes, a personal touch is called for. I will not have my methods questioned so blithely in the future, Philippa. Remember who your master is.”

“... yes, sir.” Philippa answered, with all the defiance of a whipped child. Madelyne couldn’t help but sneer at her. It was always fun seeing the fear her father inspired in people who were hardened killers and brutal mercenaries.

Victor, on the other hand, looked deeply interested in something. His sensitive nose twitched and his eyes narrowed. “Are we done here, Boss? I smell someone … near and dear to my heart. Was thinking of maybe paying him a visit.” He grinned to show razor-sharp canines.

“Very well, Victor. Go and have your fun.” Essex replied with a faint smile. “Far be it from me to stand between a family reunion. Philippa, Jim, load the vehicle. Mr. Summers has an appointment in my laboratory.”

“Are you going to kill him, Father?” Madelyne looked over at her father.

“On the contrary, I intend to give him a sort of immortality. Through his genes and yours, my daughter, a new generation of supermutants will be born. Tens of thousands of years of mutant evolution, accomplished in a single generation.” Essex gazed at Scott’s unconscious body as it was loaded into their vehicle. “A race of demigods which will rule the Earth, forever.”

Approximately 100,000 Lightyears Away:

Great Chancellor Araki prostrated himself before the Phoenix Throne, where, fifty feet suspended into the air, the Universal Sovereign, D’Ken of the House Neramani, Prophet of the Shi’ar, Galactic Emperor, Light of the Universe sat in judgement over the colossal empire he had inherited from his father. D’Ken scowled down at him, baleful eyes cutting Araki virtually to the quick. Araki couldn’t help but shudder. The Emperor could kill him with a single thought.

“I hope, Araki, that you have brought me good tidings. I am bored of your bringing of petty squabbles amongst our foolish subjects to my attention.” When Araki prepared to rise, he felt a massive weight pressing him down onto the ground.

“I did not tell you to rise, worm. You can deliver your news just as well from the ground.” D’Ken snarled, though the telekinetic weight slackened somewhat.

“Your Majesty! I bring glorious tidings! Our scouts … we have found the avatar of the Phoenix! The Goddess, my lord, she lives!” Araki gasped out.

“Is this so?” D’Ken sat back for a moment. “You have my interest. Rise, to your knees. You may deliver the rest of your tidings kneeling.” The Emperor smirked slightly, as if he were giving Araki a great favor.

Araki breathed a sigh of relief. “Your kindness is an inspiration to us all, Your Majesty. She has been located on the planet Terra, in the Sol system. This world has no means to prevent us from taking her. A single vessel should be more than sufficient.”

“Sufficient, perhaps, but unworthy of our might. I wish to make a statement to this … primitive world. How fitting that it is also the homeworld of some of our more persistent annoyances. Is not Corsair of the Starjammer a human? Not to mention that vermin Star-Lord of the Guardians of the Galaxy.” D’Ken sneered. “Perhaps when I have found the Phoenix Goddess and brought her to her proper home, I’ll obliterate the world for its hubris. Or perhaps welcome it into our enlightenment. Which would you advise I do, Araki?”

Araki took a breath, knowing that he had to speak very, very carefully. “Majesty, I would do what your wisdom tells you to. I dare not tell you what action to take.”

D’Ken’s lip curled in distaste, though he made no further action of disapproval. “Snivelling worm. But I suppose you’ve been trained that way. I want a fleet prepared for dispatch to Terra. I will go there myself on the imperial flagship, along with three starcarriers and an appropriate number of cruisers.”

Soon, soon the Phoenix’s power will be mine. I will wed the Goddess and together we will forge a shining path through the galaxy. My ancestor’s work of conquest will be complete and Shi’ar enlightenment will be known across the galaxy.

END PART ONE