Alex shoved his tears back, his hands skimming the bandage that covered the cut on his forehead. He could feel something clogging his throat, almost choking him. It felt like he was dying, but Alex knew he wasn't. He'd seen what dying looked like, and this wasn't it.

Across from him Scott lay on a cot, fast asleep. His brother had cried himself to sleep several hours ago with Alex stroking his hair and trying not to cry in front of him. Now that he didn't have anyone to stay strong for it felt like he was falling apart. He kept remembering the warmth of his parents' blood seeping through his shoes, igniting the red light that still burned within him.

The door opened. He whipped his head around, seeing a young girl peering in. A black cloth veil was draped over her head, edged in small white crystals. Her sleeveless gown was black patterned with gray in the traditional Genoshan prints. Her arms held a bundle of white roses. She raised her green eyes to meet his.

For a while he just stared. She seemed so surreal, a child in black with white roses in the midst of everything. Before he could even say anything she'd closed the door and walked up to him. She stood in front of him, her eyes still looking at him. He could see curls of green hair peeking out from the veil now that she was closer, matching her eyes and the green of the rose stems.

Finally he found his voice.

"Who are you?'

His voice came out harsher than he intended. The girl continued to look at him though.

"I heard you lost your parents," she said.

Alex snarled, his fists bunching in the cloth of his cot. The girl blinked but didn't take a step back.

"I lost my mom," she said.

Her voice trembled. He relaxed his face, feeling some of the anger leech out of him. The girl shifted the roses and fingered a silver rose necklace.

"This was hers," she said, "I miss her already."

Alex swallowed, letting go of the edge of his bed.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

The girl looked back up at him.

"My…my mom's body is downstairs," she said, "Some people are getting ready to burry her. I thought she'd like flowers with her."

His eyes strayed to the roses.

"I know you're supposed to have lilies when someone dies. My mom told me that's what they're for. She told me a lot of things about plants," she said, tracing the petals, "But my mom didn't like lilies. She said they smelt too strong. So I got her white roses instead. She really liked roses."

He wondered where she'd gotten roses when most of Genosha was destroyed. She separated the bundle of roses and held out several towards him.

"For you," she said.

Alex stared at the roses, their white petals round and perfect.

"I thought you might want some," she said, "For your parents."

His tears began to flow freely from his eyes. Alex couldn't stop them, and he didn't try to. The girl wasn't offering him the flowers as a hollow gesture of comfort. It wasn't a gesture of pity either, just of shared sympathy for a common loss.

Alex felt his heart constrict and he reached out for the flowers with shaking hands. The tears were blurring his vision and he couldn't quite reach them. The girl closed the distance and handed them to him. Her hand brushed up against his and clasped it. Alex looked down at her hand and back to her.

"It hurts," she said, "It hurts real bad. But…we have to keep remembering. And…and I've got my dad."

She looked over her shoulder at Scott.

"And you've got your brother," she said, "At least there's that."

Alex nodded, grasping the roses tightly in his hands. When there was no pain he looked down. He noticed that she'd removed the thorns, the small gesture making him want to cry all over again. She squeezed his hand before stepping back.

"I have to go now," she said, "My dad'll be looking for me soon."

She turned around, her dress dragging on the floor. Alex swallowed.

"Hey," he said.

The girl turned back, her green eyes wide.

"Thanks," he said.

The girl smiled, the expression sad. Even so it made him warm, knowing that someone struggling with thier own grief had taken the time to help him. He wondered how she could still smile, what it would be like if she smiled when she was happy, if she hadn't lost someone.

Alex watched her go. For a moment he stared at the door, wondering if the surreal encounter had happened at all. However, the roses were still in his hands. They were in his hands two hours later when Morph came to tell him that he'd been granted guardianship and that they'd be leaving soon. He'd asked about the roses, but Alex didn't tell him. He didn't think he'd ever be able to tell anyone.

"The events of the past day have been shattering," Charles said, "Twenty-four hours ago a foreign force known as the Mutant Response Division or the MRD, slipped past our early warning systems and invaded our shores, causing untold devastation to our country."

He sighed, his hands gripping the side of the podium. The cameras were rolling, broadcasting the message to all of Genosha. They needed to be told that things were in hand now, that the Sentinels and MRD were gone. Charles doubted that things would ever be the same again though.

"Due to the valiant efforts of our armed forces and citizen militias we were able to repel the invasion," Charles said, "But at a heavy cost. It is estimated that our population was decimated and half of our capitol destroyed. Every inch that the MRD advanced on was paid for in blood. Several of our commanders were killed in the field alongside their soldiers, protecting our people."

Charles swallowed, thinking of Logan and all the other X-men he'd known who had died. Behind him Emma sat on the podium, Laura under the watchful eye of Clarice. Azazel sat next to her, just behind Moira. Kevin was with Rahne and David, who were two rooms over with Neena and Arthur. He had worried abut his wife coming out, since she was still weak, weaker than she should have been. However, Genosha needed to see that the Director of Intelligence was still alive. She had been on IVs until the very moment she'd stepped onto the stage.

Charles' seat was empty at the moment, but Erik sat in his, Lorna sitting quietly next to him. At first Erik hadn't wanted her to be there. She'd just returned from weaving white roses into a flower crown for her mother's body. Susanna had been cleaned up to the point where Lorna could perform the small favor for her mother. A state funeral was being prepared, as well as a private one, in a few days. He hadn't wanted her to be in front of the cameras.

However, Genosha needed to see that its government was intact and together. Erik had realized that when he reviewed who they were going to have on the podium. They needed to see their surviving cabinet members and directors, military commanders, everyone who had come through the night.

Lorna, although young, was a part of that. She was her father's heir and the country's future. They needed that future more than ever when it had almost been shattered. There were already reports that the Queen had died. Like Moira people needed confirmation of Lorna's survival. It Otherwise there would be rampant speculation as to the Princess' fate. They couldn't have that.

"Nearly six years ago we founded Genosha with an idea to give our children the security that we were denied in the countries of our birth. We came here believing that humans and mutants can coexist and live in peace," Charles said, "We all held the hope that we would be able to live our lives as we wished, without anyone telling us what we can and can't do because of what we are."

He swallowed again, fighting his own emotions. Several members of the camera crew were looking away or tilting their heads back, trying to keep their tears inside. No matter who they were, everyone had come for those reasons. He hoped his words would bring them comfort, just as he hoped that Erik could show them that there was a future for Genosha despite what had happened.

"And as long as we keep believing that," he said, "then we can rebuild. I understand that our losses were great, that we have lost family and friends, but we still survive. And as long as we do that, they will never be forgotten."

He left the podium, taking his seat next to Moira. She reached out and he gripped her hand, their fingers entertwined without an inch of space between them. Thier eyes met and he saw determination as well as tears shining in hers. It was a feeling he shared.

Inside himself Erik was a myriad of emotions. He felt them churning to the surface as he approached the podium, his footsteps ponderous. So much had happened in the past few hours. His world had once again been turned upside down and he'd lost one of the only constants in his life. Erik forced himself to take a deep breath and try to calm down before looking into the cameras.

"Brothers and sisters," he said, "today we find ourselves in the midst of the first invasion of our country's shores."

He'd drafted his speech out before he went up to the podium, not trusting himself to speak off the cuff. There were too many conflicting words inside of him.

"Our world was set on fire," Erik said, "a fire that consumed our homes, our country, and those…those we loved…"

A lump formed in his throat. Erik swallowed, trying to push it down. He couldn't. The words had been difficult to force out before when he was writing them down, but now they were impossible. How could he offer them comfort when he didn't feel that comfort himself? He remembered Susanna's body going limp in his arms, the flames burning and consuming all around him. It was all too much.

A small hand gripped his. He looked down and saw that Lorna had gotten up and come to his side. She had clasped her hand around his, tears in her green eyes. He looked back at her, his own eyes wide and surprised. He wondered how hard it had been for her to hold off doing that. She'd lost just as much as he had, if not more, and was looking to him, her father, for comfort. His daughter needed him, and he wasn't going to let her down.

Erik tilted his head up, feeling iron fill his bones again. He was going to be strong for her. He stepped around the podium and brought her to his side, his arm around her shoulders. His other hand grasped hers, keeping her close. She leaned her head into him, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again.

He looked up at the camera again, the words he'd prepared flying out of his head. He was always best when he was speaking without a script after all.

"But, destructive thought it may be, fire doesn't destroy everything," he said, "A fire leaves behind ashes, and from those ashes we will rise stronger than before. Like a phoenix we will burn in the sky, a beacon of freedom and determination."

Erik tilted his head up.

"We've been at war with so many for so long, and the events of last night have shown us that the war isn't over," Erik said, "But we, the few of us in this world, have fought men who have come into our homes to drag us from our lives. We have fought a government, invasion forces, and iron giants. And though the costs may be high we have won every time single time. No matter what they do to us, they cannot stamp us out."

The camera crew was staring at him, their eyes wide.

"I can assure you that there is an end to this war, and one day we will stand on our shores, knowing that we never stopped fighting for our future," he said, "The MRD is out there, and if they are watching, they will quake in their shoes, knowing that they have not broken us. They've only made us fight all the harder, because they have come here and threatened what is ours. They know that we will never give up until we stand triumphant."

From behind him he heard the scraping of a chair. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charles stand up with Moira, their hands clenched and drawing strength from each other. One by one the other members of the cabinet stood up too, their eyes looking defiantly at the camera. Erik gripped his daughter's hand tighter, daring the world to try and stop them again. He didn't care what they threw at them. They were ready.

Stryker looked at the screen with narrowed eyes, not saying a word. Next to him Killbrew and Craig were silent too. Killbrew didn't know if there was anything they could say. Craig had begun to tap his fingers on the table as soon as the transmission started, an irritating habit of his, but other than that there was no noise. Stryker leaned forward and paused the transmission, turning in his chair to give his attention back to the other two men.

"So," he said.

Killbrew raised an eyebrow.

"That's all you have to say?" he asked.

"What else is there to say?" Stryker shrugged, "We lost a battle. That's all. If we use the Sentinels again we should put them in a place offshore. Hauling all of Mastermold took most of our time and diverted a great deal of manpower."

"Agreed. Placing Mastermold onshore was a poor move," Craig said, nodding, "Even so I thought it was going to work for a while. We should eliminate the human element in the future. The Sentinels did fine on their own, but the soldiers' incompetence ruined things."

"I hear that they even had the MacTaggert slut at one point," Stryker said, "They didn't even know it."

"See what I mean?" Craig said.

Killbrew looked between the two of them.

"What are you two talking about?" he snapped, "Have you lost your minds? 'In the future'? What future? Weren't you listening to what he just said?"

Stryker rolled his eyes. Killbrew wondered if they were being deliberately obtuse. They weren't stupid, he knew that much. Each of them were college men. They were good strategists, there was no doubt about it, but they had a habit of constantly underestimating their enemies.

He knew that neither of the two men listened to a word he said on anything other than scientific matters. Sometimes, like with his condemnation of the adamantium process, they hadn't even listened to him then. They should have instead of capturing a beast for another try. It was a waste of resources.

Killbrew had examined mutants firsthand. He knew better than anyone what they were capable of. Sometimes he wondered if he knew more about what happened to someone when they were cornered and pushed more than the other men. He'd never fought in combat, but he'd been around people quite a bit. Killbrew had had to manipulate groups of people from the beginning to gain funding for his research. Stryker and Craig had worked with individuals.

They still refused to listen to his concerns though. They had condescendingly said that he didn't understand and moved on. Even now he knew he was wasting his breath, but he refused to sit by without a word while they made idiots of themselves and walked into a bear trap.

"The war has just begun," Stryker said, "And our attack wasn't a total failure. I suppose that they'll be changing their early warning systems, but we had a pretty good lay of the land from our Sentinels. We know more now."

"Oh, we do do we?" asked Killbrew, his voice acidic, "That's why we lost nearly a thousand men. Almost all of our resources were put into the Sentinels. It will take years before we can build another Mastermold system. Where are we supposed to go from here?"

"Onwards, ever onwards," Craig said.

Killbrew threw his hands into the air. Stryker shook his head.

"You're not a military man Emrys," Stryker said, "A lost battle doesn't mean that we lost the war. Besides, now you finally have a viable specimen for your adamantium process. You can start work immediately! That has to count for something."

Killbrew leaned back, lapsing into a sullen silence. It was always the damn adamantium. Stryker and Craig didn't understand. They had kept pushing, and that pushing had resulted in something he didn't want. He didn't like the mutant that they'd brought in for experimentation. There was something in his eyes that made him feel like his own life could be measured in minutes, if not seconds.

If it didn't work then he knew he was dead. Killbrew had experimented with many different mutants, some who cowered, and some who fought. This mutant wasn't a fighter. This was a destroyer, a bringer of death. There was nothing to fight because a fight implied that there would be a struggle. He could tell that this mutant was used to winning, and there was a very good reason for that.

Not that anyone would listen to his concerns, especially not when they came to the adamantium process. They were obesessed. Even as they watched Stryker turned away from him, facing Craig. He'd forgotten about him already.

"That reminds me," he said, "How is Creed fitting in with the rest of the recruits?"

"The freak's twice as vicious as any of them," Craig said, "And perhaps even more insane than Marko."

"I'd almost forgotten about our prodigal," Stryker said, "And how's he doing?"

Craig shrugged.

"Upset about the explosion breaking his arm," Craig said, "He's also irritated that he wasn't allowed to go after his stepbrother."

"All in good time," Stryker said, getting up, "For now, I think it's time for a break. Meeting adjourned."

Killbrew watched as Stryker and Craig left the room. He pushed his chair back and walked up to the television screen. It was still paused on the Genoshan government, standing up at their King's words. Killbrew stood in front of it, his hands clasped behind his back as he often did when he was posed with a problem. He spent several minutes looking from person to person. He took his time, studying every detail of their posture and faces.

A sigh of frustration passed his lips. He hadn't been imagining it. Every single one of them, from the Princess to the man who looked like the Devil, had the same look in their eyes. It was a look of determination, one that told the world that they weren't backing down. He supposed that every single Genoshan citizen had had that look in their eyes when they heard the broadcast. They were a country, nay, a world in themselves, united.

And that, more than anything, was a reason to fear them.

A/N: Now it's time for one of my characteristically long post-story author notes! Hope you liked 'The World on Fire'. It's darker than 'The World Turned Upside Down', but the stakes are getting higher for all of the characters. All of the characters who died in the story also died in the comics, or are presumed dead, leaving thier families and friends in bad positions. The last story, 'The World United' should be coming out in a few weeks and takes place four years after 'The World on Fire'. The younger generation will play a much bigger role in this story. It looks like I have a thing for trilogies.

Susanna was a great character to write. I ended up putting a lot of thought into her, more so than I'd originally thought I would when I first introduced her character in 'The World Turned Upside Down'. Erik is a hard man to love, and I tried to imagine someone who'd be determined enough to stay with him and gain his love. Her death won't be without major repurcussions to both her husband and daughter.

The same goes for Christopher and Katherine Summers. I portrayed them as horrible people in 'Sins of the Father', but they were closer to their comic book counterparts in this story. Like many writers on this site, I tried to keep the Shi'iar out of the picture though. I feel that they tended to bring Alex and Scott's backstory to confusing and often ludicrous heights, especially in a franchise that has been alien-free thus far.

The Hellions were an actual team associated with the House of M, but they were very different than the one portrayed here. I based the team roster for Genosha's Hellions on members from 'The Exiles' comic series, which is actually one of my favorite comic series. All of the different characters are X-men from different dimensions who have to come together to repair the universe. Thier characters dot my other stories, such as TJ and Clarice in 'The X-Force'. As TJ is Nightcrawler's daughter, I felt it would be better to leave her out for this story.

And last but not least, I have my shoutouts! I'd like to thank Knight of Wings, ShiroNeko316, tiredstudent09, noamg, Coyote Blues, and Princess-Amon-Rae for thier continued support and reviews!