The final chapter of the Bucktown Timeline
written by David J. Warner
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This story (C) Copyright 1996 David J. Warner. Captain America, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, and all X-Men and Generation X characters used within this story are the intellectual property of the Marvel Comics Company. The Reclamation Squad, Aqua, Image, and Perkolater are the intellectual property of David J. Warner. All rights reserved.
This story is freely distributable via print or electronic means, provided that its content is not altered in any way, shape or form. Sale for profit of this story without the expressed written consent of David J. Warner and the Marvel Comics Company is strictly prohibited.
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ARC THE FIRST -- THE AWAKENING
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PART ONE -- VISIONS
"Under a blackened sky
Far beyond the glaring streetlights
Sleeping on empty dreams
The vultures lie in wait"
- Sarah McLachlan, "Wait"
* * *
*Remember, Post, I want them alive.*
"I suppose their state of consciousness doesn't matter, then?"
*Do not test me, boy. They are a small but important part of my plans. Do not underestimate their potential, either.*
"Whatever you say, sir, though considering how surprisingly easy Cable was, I don't expect a group of kids to give either of us any problem..."
She dreams of a comet.
The night sky glows with a white-hot intensity as the comet passes over her, through her, changing her entire being. Her sense of self is lost somewhere in the small patch of trees where the gypsies found her. As they take her in as their own, she forgets whether the glow that surrounds her is the comet warping her mind, the explosions tearing her new family apart, or the lightning storm battering the cave of the monster.
Her eyes pop open from the dream, and the glow is nothing more than the lights from the biosphere ceiling. She looks around to see who turned them on, spotting her friend floating in the sky.
"I didn't wake you up, did I, Penny?", says Jubilee.
"Yes," she replies, "but I don't mind."
A week ago, Jubilation Lee came to the Xavier School's interactive biosphere -- or the Danger Grotto, as the students here call it -- only when she had to be here. Occassionally, she would drop by to talk to her friend "Penny," but usually she was here for her mandatory training sessions, so she could learn how to better control her mutant pyrotechnic powers.
A week ago, Jubilation Lee learned how to fly. Now, she cannot stop coming here to practice her new ability. Even at this late hour in the evening, she cannot think about lying down to sleep, especially when she could be drifting almost effortlessly through the sky in reality.
Penny is short for Penance, the name she was given when her battered, bruised and razor sharp body was found on the campus of Xavier's. The black strips that cover her entire body protect others from her taut skin's cutting edges. Nobody knows her real name here. Even she has wondered as of late what her name might be.
"Sorry 'bout that," says Jubilee. "I just figured that since Artie and Leech were hangin' with Ev tonight, I could have the place to myself. Not TOO insensitive of me, huh?"
Penance smiles as she watches her friend glide through the trees with the grace of a robin. A direct look from Jubilee, however, causes Penance to look away sheepishly.
"You've been having those nightmares again, haven't you?", says a concerned Jubilee as she lands in front of the tree under which Penance was sleeping.
"Yes," Penance replies shyly, "but they aren't the same nightmares."
"You're not dreaming about big ugly anymore?"
Penance shakes her head. "There are times when I can still see him there, but I now see someone...something else."
Jubilee sits down on the grass and hugs her knees. "Wanna tell me about it?"
"I don't know if I can."
"It's okay. I won't push you or anything."
Penance shakes her head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just that...I don't know what it is. I see these lights and...hear these voices...but I can't make sense out of it all."
"Dreams are like that. I used to dream about getting captured by this sentinel, and instead of trying to kill me, he would toss me in my room and start chewing me out, like he was my father or something. Frost told me it had something to do with fear of my own potential, but I never really paid much attention to it."
"Can someone else affect your dreams?"
"Sure. Any telepath could muck your head up at night if they wanted. Maybe Frosty's in your head now."
"No, I mean if someone was simply here, around you. Could that do it?"
Jubilee ponders the question for a moment. "I guess," she shrugs. "I mean, anything can affect your dreams, when you get down to it. How come?"
"Because these dreams I am having now...they started when Charles came back..."
---
Somewhere on a tropical beach, the sun shines gently in a deep blue sky, the crystal waves of the sea crash along a spotless bed of gold sand, and a thick row of palm trees guard the castle taking shape on the coast. Two young children, one a handsome blonde boy, the other a dark-complected beautiful girl, build and play and laugh together, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world.
Except for two.
Young Charles senses that lone pair of eyes watching the children, taking in the surroundings, wondering how it came here. Monet remains oblivious as she carefully shapes the giant towers on the corners of the fortress.
"Keep building, Monet," says Charles. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?", Monet asks.
"Looking for sea shells. Our knights need their shields."
"Okay."
Charles smiles at Monet and walks down the endless coastline, following the path of the eyes that he feels watching him. Only those eyes, he finds, are not looking at him at all. They stare out into the ocean, puzzled by this place in their sights.
A young man in his late teens sits on the sand and runs his hands through the thick brown hair on his head. Charles notes that he is lost in thought.
"Hello."
The young man turns his head toward the boy's voice. He is clearly surprised by the presence of another person here.
"Hi," he replies. "How did you get here?"
"I come here a lot," replies Charles. "I like to play here."
"Yeah," the young man says quietly to nobody in particular, "it looks a nice place to play."
"How come you aren't playing?", asks Charles.
The young man looks out into the clear depths of the water. "I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out where I am."
Charles grins at him. "You're on the beach, silly."
The young man looks back at Charles, concentrating closely on the boy's face. He knows he has seen that face before, but he cannot quite place where. It seems lost amidst his own sea of memories.
"My name's Charles. What's your name?"
He ponders how to answer the boy. Charles seems harmless enough, but nothing is as it appears. He decides to look inside the boy's mind, only to discover that he has been there all along. For a moment, he thinks he understands.
"Nate," the young man says. "My name's Nate."
Charles cocks his head at the young man. "I've seen you before." Nate stays silent, distracted by the girl that suddenly appears behind the boy.
"Who is he, Charles?", says Monet. "What's he doing here?"
"It's okay, Monet," says Charles. "I think he's a friend of my da-"
*No, Charles. It is not 'okay'.*
A long, royally-dressed woman drops from the sky and floats in front of the three on the beach. Her eyes shine more brightly than any of the gems on her golden dress.
"You're not supposed to be here, Claudia," says Charles. "He's not going to hurt us."
*Of that I am certain, for he has violated this sacred ground, and he shall pay dearly for his transgression.*
"Hey, wait a minute," says a startled Nate, now rising to his feet.
"C'mon, Charles," says Monet. "Let's go back to our castle."
"No!" Charles pulls away from her. "Don't hurt him!" The brightness in Claudia's eyes bathes the entire beach in a pure, blinding white light.
The adolescent Charles Xavier Lehnscherr jolts up from the bed in reality, cutting off the dream sequence before it can finish. He hyperventilates as he looks down at the girl beside him, Monet St. Croix, still sleeping peacefully, the hint of a smile on her face. He catches his breath, gets out of the bed and walks slowly toward the window.
"Charles," says Monet, waking calmly and effortlessly. "What's wrong?"
"Why did you attack him?", he says, not bothering to look back at her.
"I did not attack him, Charles," Monet replies. "I simply removed him from our place. He was not supposed to be there."
"Neither was Claudia," Charles replies coolly. Monet recoils slightly, then turns away. "How much longer are you going to hide this from everyone, Monet? How long until everybody knows the truth about who you really are?"
"As long as it takes, Charles. There's no way they could understand. Even I can barely make sense of it all. Why else do you think I was so overjoyed when you came back?"
Charles looks back at his first love, wishing he could dispel some of the doubts clouding his mind. "Promise me something, Monet," he says.
"Anything, my love," she replies.
"Don't hide anything from me. You know how much I care about you, but I cannot bear the thought of you keeping secrets from me. I have already gone through that once with my father. Please don't make me suffer through that again."
"Charles, we are linked psionically. I promise that there is nothing I could hide from you."
Charles gently hugs Monet and, as always, hopes for the best. Monet returns the embrace, gently rubbing her hands against his neck, wishing that there was another way.
---
Boys dormitory.
"Leech no eat eggs ham on plane. Leech no eat eggs ham on train."
Others would sometimes get annoyed at Leech's primitive speech patterns. Everett Thomas is just having too much fun with it.
"Ah, but would Leech, could Leech on a boat?" he counters. "Would Leech, could Leech if they float?"
Leech's friend Artie creates a psionic hologram of bacon and eggs floating down a stream. He looks back at Everett quizically.
"Sure, why not?" Everett grins at the youngster, then turns his head away suddenly, his eyes suddenly scanning the air for a presence that he cannot pinpoint.
"Synch feel something?" says Leech.
"He sure does, Leech," Everett replies as he reaches toward the phone and presses a lighted white button.
*This better be good, Mister Thomas,* replies Xavier's School Headmistress Emma Frost telepathically.
"Miss Frost, has there been a security breech?", Everett thinks.
*Don't you think you would have heard something had there been one?*
"I'm not sure. I felt some other presence around here suddenly, something I couldn't put my finger on. It didn't seem normal, so-"
*Nothing here ever seems normal, Synch. Go back to your romper room.*
"But mis-"
*Good night, Mister Thomas.*
Everett sighs and looks back at Artie and Leech. Artie creates a psionic hologram of the villain called Emplate.
"Nah," replies Everett. "I don't think we have to worry about him tonight."
---
The biosphere.
"Yaw yaw YAWWWW yaw yaw!"
Jubilee and Penance turn toward the door and find nothing there.
"Hey hey HEYYYY whoa ho!"
They turn to the treehouse and find nothing there.
"Woo-hah!"
They turn to the stream behind them and find nothing there. Jubilee's agitation at this becomes painfully obvious. "Like, don't you have something better to do, Perk?", she says.
"I wish I did," replies Rayquan, now standing in front of his classmates, leaning casually against a tree. "Ev's hangin' out with the treehouse two and actin' THEIR age, Skin's in one of his moods again, and it's make-out night for Chuck, so I'm pretty much by myself."
"What about Mondo?", asks Penance.
"I dunno what's up with Mondo," Rayquan replies, shaking his head. "I think ol' White Queen needs to knock his brain around or somethin'."
"Don't tell me HE'S acting up now," says Jubilee. "Somebody's put something in the water around here."
"Trust me, little ones. It is not the water."
All three students look back at the giant figure casting a shadow upon the entrance to the biosphere. Its think, rippled muscles stretch the Carolina blue skin holding them in. That same skin seems to be magnetizing the tiny electronic scanners that surround the figure.
"Uh, they brought 'Sliders' back," says Jubilee. "You can stop holding your breath now."
"Do not try to engage me in conversation," the figure replies. "I am called Post, and I am the herald of the power and glory that is Onslaught. He has brought me here because he desires to obtain the powers the three of you possess."
Penance slowly backs away from her friends and ducks behind the nearest tree. Jubilee and Perkolater, however, don't know any better.
"The word 'Showtime' comes to mind," says Jubilee.
"I was kinda thinkin' 'Let's get it on,' myself," Perkolater replies, "but yo, whatever works for you."
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PART TWO -- ALL THE KING'S HORSES
"Give me life
give me pain
give me myself again"
- Tori Amos, "Little Earthquakes"
* * *
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Inside the interactive biosphere.
She knows she should help, but her mind will not allow her. There is nothing but a jumble of memories both familiar and unfamiliar, crashing against each other like the waves of opposing storm-rocked seas, forcing her deeper into a past she could not possibly remember. She remains only a spectator in a battle she finds...familiar?
One is an airborne picture acrobatic grace and pyrotechnic fury. The other is simply an unintelligible blur of motion. Together, they are playing the herald of an unknown entity called Onslaught to nothing less than a draw.
"Resistance is futile, little ones," says Post, rising again from the floor and firing concussive cannon blasts at his opponents, who dodge them skillfully. "Nothing can stop the glory that is Onslaught!"
"Man, fuck Onslaught," replies Perkolater, who knocks Post into a prone position, allowing Jubilee to launch yet another pyrotechnic assault at the mutant's face.
"You want an onslaught," shouts Jubilee, "you got it!" She balances herself in mid-air on one hand, while the other hand unleashes a barrage of sparks that cause the small, magnetized sensors that surround Post to crackle and explode. The herald grits his teeth and fights through the pain inflicted upon him.
"Van Damme, man, why don't you just fall over or somethin'?", says Perkolater. "You know you ain't gonna win."
"I cannot," Post replies, firing another blast at the caffeine- powered speedster. "I will not! I am an extension of Onslaught, and his will shall be done!"
"Yadda yadda yadda," returns Jubilee. "If he wants us that bad, he should've sent more than Old Weird Herald after us."
She wants to end the fight. She believes she can. Yet as she watches her friends battle the monster that mysteriously appeared in the room, the girl called Penance can ask herself only one question -- who am I?
---
Nightfall in New York City.
An off-duty taxi cab rushes along the street, an illuminated advertising plaque on its roof proudly displaying the words, "360 Communications -- Helping the Reclamation Squad keep New York safe."
This is how full-time heroes survive in the ninties. They license out their name to advertisers, they put the letters RSNYC on T- shirts, jackets and baseball-style jerseys, they collect the royalties from those sales and endorsements, they keep what they need to live, and they use the rest in their fight to improve the conditions of the people in their neighborhoods.
Some would dare say that they have sold out. Some would believe that they care only for the money. Some would cry foul at a young white woman joining the ranks of what should be a black group of heroes. Then another son returns home to his mother, or another murderer is brought to justice, or another press conference is held to announce a cease-fire between rival gangs or the renovation of a local children's playground. The naysayers are silenced once again.
It would be different if they had the financial reserves of the previous generations of heroes, but not everybody can be Reed Richards or Tony Stark. They do only what they can, hoping that it will somehow make a difference to their world.
Tonight, two members of the Reclamation Squad walk among the night watch groups and their orange hardhats. It is a quieter moment than usual, but it is no less as intriguing as their regular battles.
"I still don't get it, though," says Sally Blevins, once a young mutant runaway named Skids, now a bullet-proof local hero called Kevlar. "I always thought that the Civil Rights movement aimed toward a world in which people's race didn't matter."
"In a lot of ways, yes," replies Monica Chavis, the hologram- creator called Image. "When it comes to things like educational, political and employment opportunities, nobody deserves to be judged on the basis of their race. What you have to understand, though, is that in spite of this, race still plays an important part in who we are and how our lives are shaped."
"But you've got so many people from so many places with so many different backgrounds," Kevlar counters. "Wouldn't that make cultural factors more important than racial factors?"
"Sure, in a perfect world, but this world still considers a person's racial make-up to be part of who he is. I mean, even with all their cultural differences, black people still share a common African heritage that helps them stick together."
"Then what keeps the white people together?"
"Hey, you tell me. Look, the bottom line is that we like to think race shouldn't matter, but it does, because it still plays a role for us. It's part of why the Reclamation Squad is so successful in the first place."
"Then how come people seem to accept me? I'm not black."
"You're a mutant, girl. You as black as the rest of us."
Kevlar grins as her head casually turns toward a locked up newsstand. Her eyes drift toward a loose tabloid newspaper. "Heh. Take a look at this," she says, picking up the paper which proclaiming in huge letters, "MAGNETO ALIVE IN KEY WEST!"
"Hmmph. Tabloids," replies a grinning Image. "Can't believe a word they say."
---
"You can't get a break, can you, Erik?"
"Perhaps I do not deserve one."
At one time, he was humanity's sworn enemy. These days, Erik Magnus Lehnscherr tries to live a quiet life in the modest dwelling he built on this small island off the coast of Florida. He knows better than anyone else, however, that no matter how much someone tries to separate himself from his past, it always returns to haunt him.
"Come on, Erik. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Rasha Ahuja knows something about separating herself from her past. She was disowned by her father several years ago after he learned she was a lesbian. Since then, she has done her best to put aside the pain of that moment and live as simple and carefree a life as possible. Of course, having friends like "Erik and Carol" around have helped tremendously.
"You make it sound like I was a white-collar criminal or a modern-day Robin Hood," Erik replies. "Rasha, do you know how many people have died because of my actions?"
Rasha sighs. "I'm sorry, Erik, but I just don't see it. I mean, I've read the accounts of what you've done in the past, and I just can't believe that was you -- the guy who helped fix up The Alcove in one day, the guy who dug into his financial reserves to keep some of the tourist spots around here open. Face it, Erik, you and this Magneto character I see in here aren't the same guy."
"She's right, ya know," says Rogue, who walks out onto the porch with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. "Ah've been keeping a closer eye on you than anyone else, and you are different. Don't know what it is about you now, but Ah can't say it's all that bad."
She puts the the pitcher and glasses on a small table, then sits down on the bench next to Erik. "Ah think li'l Charles gave you a whole new lease on life."
"Perhaps he did," he replies, "and yet, this doesn't really change the past."
"You know what you need, Erik?", says Rasha. "A press agent."
"Come again?", says Erik.
"You know, someone to help give you a makeover in the media. That way, people will stop relating you to that guy who stormed the Cape all those years ago."
"My dear, nothing short of a new identity will ever stop a mutant-fearing public from separating me and my past, especially all of those who died because of me."
Rasha grins. "Then let's start there."
"What?"
"Why not? I mean, you've done the secret identity thing in the past, right? Why not now, while you're trying to get a fresh start on things?"
"Ain't a bad idea, really," Rogue adds. "This *is* a whole new person Ah'm sittin' next to...'Joseph.'"
Erik grins at her.
"Joe and Carol," says Rasha. "I like that. Joe and Carol... Pierce. How's that sound?"
"Pierce?", says Erik, cocking an eyebrow at Rasha.
"I dated a girl named 'Pierce' once. Real sweetheart, too..."
---
"Bitch ass mutie, thinkin' you can float into our crib and play us like one of them wack-ass Bone Thugs-N-Harmony records. I'mma smack that big blue ass like Albert Belle on the basepaths, have you open like ya mama at Dennis Rodman's house..."
For a while, Perkolater backs up those words with his apparent super speed, and Post cannot seem to touch the blur that attacks him. An errant swing of Post's arm, however, tips the sole of Perkolater's shoes.
"Whoa..."
Perkolater tumbles but recovers quickly, his greatest weakness becoming apparent at the worst possible time. He quickly opens the onyx ring on his finger, only to find it empty.
"Oh, shit..."
"Don't you tell me you're running out of gas now, Perk," shouts Jubilee, a stream of fireworks flowing from her hands toward Post's face.
"Gimme thirty seconds, Jube," says Perkolater. "I know where they keep all the juice around here."
"Better not be any more than that," Jubilee replies. As she watches Perkolater take off to find the caffeine that will fuel his power, she turns back to Post and begins to increase the intensity of her pyrotechnic attacks.
"Looks like it's just you and me, blue butt," she shouts at him. "What you got to say to that?"
"Not just you." She walks out from behind the tree that hid her, fighting off the demons that jolt her mind, ready to help her friend end this fight.
"A friend in need," says Post. "How touching." He fires a concussive blast at her, knocking her backwards.
"Penny!" Jubilee turns her head toward her friend, never having time to react to the blasts Post fires back at her.
The sight of her friend flying in a crumpled heap into the treehouse is the last jolt the girl called Penance needs. She can feel her psyche jarred loose from its moorings, her long dormant power stretching through every nerve ending in her body. In an instant, it all makes sense again, and she looks back at the monster before her with an intensity even he can feel, as it reaches inside his own body. Finally, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, she cuts loose...
*EVERYBODY UP!*
Emma Frost's telepathic call pierces the mind of every student on the campus. As the headmistress of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters quickly covers herself in a fur-lined satin gown, the school's headmaster, Sean Cassidy, hastily throws on a robe and runs out the door behind her. He quickly scoops her up by the shoulders and uses his sonic wail to fly straight toward the biosphere.
*Give the children a status report, Emma,* he thinks to her.
*We have one student and two unidentified mutants battling in the biosphere,* her mind shouts to everyone on the campus. *Two figures are down, and one of them is Jubilee. I want Manchild and M to get the med lab ready. The rest of you are to report to the biosphere on the triple!*
Synch is the first student Emma sees running beneath her and Banshee. She then spots Skin, using his distended epidermis to swing through the trees like Spider-Man might swing through a New York City skyline. The clanking sound of steel on concrete, followed by a rather public psi-signature right behind it, lets Emma know that Husk and Chamber are not far behind. As she and Banshee finally land at the entrance of the biosphere, then run in, only to find Perkolater standing above a pool of blood-stained grass and broken electronic sensors.
"I found him like this when I came back," Perkolater says to them. "Me and Jubes were gettin' some good shots in at him, but I started runnin' out of fuel and had to bug out to gas up. Thirty seconds later, I came back and found this. He was this big blue mother... uh, big blue guy before."
Emma is too sickened by what she sees to pay attention to her students's speech patterns. "Good lord," she says. "Who could have done this?"
"I suppose I could have."
Banshee turns toward a familiar voice in front of the group, discovering someone else wearing Penance's black restraint wraps -- someone he fully expected he would never see again outside of his nightmares.
"Saints preserve us," whispers Banshee in stunned reverence. "Clarice?"
"Hello, Banshee," she replies. "It's good to see you alive and well again."
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PART THREE -- THE LAST REFUGEE
"Just think
What if you could just
...just blink yourself away?"
- The Roots, "Proceed"
* * *
The dark figure stumbles down the corridor, wracked by pain too much to notice the unwavering gun of the officer pointing directly at its chest.
"Freeze, prisoner!", the uniformed guard shouts. The figure responds by collapsing to the floor and crawling slowly into the dim, incandescent light laying between himself and the guard. Slowly, the guard approaches the figure cautiously, noting its face and uniform are stained a dark red, and its eyes look for an answer.
"Terry...", it whispers, "bastard..."
A head collapses to the floor, and the guard, whose gun remains cocked and ready to aim, turns the figure over and takes a closer look.
"Holy shit," he says, grabbing the walkie-talkie on his belt and speaking into it. "Jefferson," he says, "call the warden. One of them mutie brothers is down..."
---
"Nnnnngghh...wha..."
"Shhh, just relax. You've just had a rough one."
The last thing Jubilee remembers was watching her friend take the brunt of a powerful energy blast from a powerful opponent. As she wakes up in the medical facilities of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, the only thing she knows is that the battle is over, and the pain begins.
"Ev?", she groans.
"Welcome back to the real world," replies Synch, who sits next to Jubilee's bed and keeps a close eye on her current condition.
"Where am I?"
"Med lab. You've got a slight concussion and a lot of bumps and bruises, but you should be fine real soon. We're all amazed you didn't break something."
Slowly, she pieces together the memories of what happened. "That little bastard...ran out of gas..."
"I know. Don't blame him for it. He's not too happy about that himself. He would have stayed to fight if he could, and he was ready to go when he returned, but by then it was over."
"Penny," she says softly. "Where's Penny?"
Synch sighs. "Man, I'm not quite sure how to say this."
"Oh, God, no...please tell me she's alive...please..."
"Naw, it ain't like that. She's alive."
"What happened then? Tell me...Ev?..."
"It's...just that...well, Penny isn't really Penny anymore..."
---
They are faces both familiar and unfamiliar to her. Clarice Ferguson sits on the couch and dons the unfamiliar red uniform of Generation X, borrowed for the time being from Paige Guthrie. She knows most of them -- Angelo, Mondo, Paige, Jono...
"Oh, God. Jono, what happened to you?"
Up until now, Jonothon Starsmore has never met Clarice Ferguson. He was only told stories of how a young, scared girl who called herself Blink sacraficed her life to save his classmates from a techno-organic monster called Harvest. His confusion at the fact that she obviously knows him, therefore, should be obvious to all of the students sitting together around her.
"Y'ave me at a loss, dear," says Jono. "I've never seen yer before till now."
"But, you had to," Clarice replies. "We were together when... oh, no..."
"What is it, Clarice?", asks Paige Guthrie.
"This is that other world," she replies, "the one that Bishop was talking about...It was real...I'm here..."
She jumps up and grabs Paige by the shoulders. "Paige, tell me, who leads the X-Men?"
"Uhhh, Professor Charles Xavier. Why?" a stunned Paige replies.
Clarice turns toward Angelo Espinosa. "Angelo, where is Apocalypse right now?"
"Last I checked, chica," he replies, "about six feet under."
She turns finally to Mondo. "Mondo, where are Colossus and Shadowcat?"
"Who?", Mondo replies.
Clarice turns away from everyone and collapses against the wall, her head buried in her hands. "Oh, God," she whispers. "I lost them all. I lost them all..."
---
"Cheer up, Irish," says Emma Frost. "You should be jumping for joy that she wasn't killed by her own power after all."
Sean Cassidy is in no mood to talk. He has seen Clarice Ferguson's face in his nightmares, reminding him of the day just months before when he was unable to save her from her own power. Now, he realizes that she was right under his nose the whole time, and the guilt is suddenly replaced by an uncharacteristic anger.
"Sean, damn ye," he says.
"What was that?", replies Emma Frost.
"Ye heard me, mind witch. If ye insist on making me call ye Emma, ye'll have the decency to call me Sean."
Emma takes a step backward at his tone of voice. "What has gotten into you?", she says cautiously.
"Gateway," he replies. "He watched me as I let another life slip through me hands, then he put that same girl right there in front of me face, battered and broken by some other monster. S'like our lives were all just some bleatin' game t'him. Makes me wonder just what he meant when he called her 'Penance.' Who's penance was it? His? Mine? Hers? Aye, but I'd like nothing more than to throttle that tidbit of information out of 'im."
"Just calm down, Sean," says Emma. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all this."
---
"You planned it all along, Mentor. Didn't you?"
The old man with the timepiece balances himself on the edge of the roof, seemingly oblivious to his former charge, who stands in uniform behind him, almost awed by his presence.
"You brought her back for Mister Cassidy," Monet says. "It was your way of showing him he hadn't failed, right? He could be forgiven for losing her, because she survived. That is what you meant by 'penance', isn't it?"
The old man sighs. *She is not ours, child.*
Monet's eyes wander the landscape in front of her as she ponders his words. Her finely-honed intellect helps her understand. Her emotions refuse to believe it.
"No. Charles..."
She drops to her knees. "Please, Mentor," she begs of him. "Do not take him away from me. I have accomplished so much since he returned to me. I would not need him for much longer. Can you not see how much he has helped me? Can you not see that I have become a better person because of him? The person you wanted me to be?"
*Penance,* the old man replies telepathically.
"No. Please, I would do anything--"
*Penance.*
Monet tries in vain to gulp the lump out of her throat, only to find herself resting on her knees on the rooftop and shedding silent, bitter tears.
---
"You okay, Penny?", says Rayquan Morris as he enters the room.
"It's not Penny anymore, Rayquan," says Paige. "It's Clarice." Paige kneels down against the wall and puts a comforting arm around her friend's shoulders. "It's okay, Blink. Don't cry. Everything will be okay."
"But it's not okay, Paige," replies Clarice. "It's all wrong. This isn't the world I remember. It's all different. I was with the X- Men, and they told me...they told me you were all dead...and...and..."
"But we're not dead," says Mondo, walking over to Clarice to comfort her. "We're all right here. See?"
Clarice looks at the group of students in the room with her, thinking back to the few times she spent with others just like them while she was an X-Man. She can't help but wonder what has just happened to her.
"But it's not the same," she says. "You all are here, but all the ones I used to hang out with are gone. That whole world is gone. I still remember hearing the bombs dropping just outside. I was all alone, and I got scared, so I teleported to the only place I thought I could be safe -- the M'Kraan Crystal..."
"Madre de dios", says Angelo, feeling for the pressure points on his forehead.
"And all of the sudden," Clarice continues, ignoring Angelo's remark, "I felt myself floating, like I was outside of time and space, until this bright light flew past me. I didn't know what it was. All I know was that it turned me inside out, and...and..."
"Take your time, Clarice," says Paige. "It'll be okay."
"I... I only remember bits and pieces of what happened to me after that," Clarice continues. "I was...little...like I had become a toddler or something...and these gypsies took me in and treated me like part of their family. I didn't remember anything before then, like it was all lost. I remember them calling me Yvette, and when I asked them why, they said it was because their matriarch died the day they found me, and so they named me after her.
"I was bewildered by it all, but I didn't know anything else, so I stayed with them. They taught me their language...it was somewhere in Europe I think...and played with me a lot. And then this war broke out a few years later, and I watched most of them die at the hands of these armies. They would have killed me, too, except that I changed somehow, and I started wishing they would go away, and whenever I wished it, they did.
"I ran for what seemed like years from everybody. The army tried to capture me. The other fugitives were scared of me. Finally, I remember this giant coming out of nowhere and offering me sanctuary from the war. I had to go with him. It was just what I wanted. But all he gave me was a prison cell, and he fed himself off of me like a vampire for what seemed like forever. Until I came here.
"I had no idea who I was before until tonight. Some kind of psychic force pulled on all those memories I had lost before."
Her chin falls to her chest. "But now it's all gone," she whispers. "Everything I've ever known is gone."
Paige sees the growing shadow on the floor and looks up at the figure standing in the doorway.
"Not everything, Aunt Blink."
Were it not for his age, Clarice would recognize the voice immediately. Her clear white eyes slowly rise from the floor and meet the ocean blue eyes of a boy she thinks she recognizes.
"I made it through, too. I've...changed a little since then, but other than that..."
"Oh...oh my God," says Clarice in shock. "CHARLES?"
She jumps up from the floor and throws her arms around Charles Xavier Lehnscherr, catching him by surprise.
"Oh, God," she yelps. "You're alive! You're alive! But how?"
"Quicksilver," he replies, returning her embrace. "He took me as the bombs fell and threw me into the crystal."
"Did anyone else see that coming?", mutters Angelo.
"Hush up, Skin," retorts Paige.
"Oh, I can't believe this," she says, the smile returning to her face. "How long have you been here?"
"Just a few months," he says.
"Months?", replies Blink. "But you're so much older..."
Charles sighs at her words. "I made the unfortunate mistake of crossing paths with the horseman Sinister and his lackeys. I have survived, though, and I have learned along the way many things about this world where we are now. I would be more than happy to help you adjust."
"I don't care what world this is. All that matters right now is that your alive." She hugs him again and peeks over her shoulder at another familiar face, standing by the wall and smiling at the emotional scene playing out before her.
"Claudia?", says Clarice.
Monet's eyes widen in horror at the sound of the name. She then turns and runs down the hallway, much to everyone's surprise.
"Monet!", calls Charles. "Wait!"
"Who's Claudia?", asks Rayquan.
"What happened?", says Clarice.
"Only the inevitable." Emma Frost calmly forces her way through the door and follows Monet's path down the hallway. "Miss St. Croix's ivory tower is beginning to crumble."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART FOUR -- FAMILY SECRETS
"Like the scar of age written all over my face
The war is still raging inside of me
I still feel the chill as I reveal my shame to you
I wear it like a tattoo"
-Sade, "Like a Tattoo"
* * *
Monet St. Croix knows what is coming. She has been told time and again that her secrets will be found out eventually, no matter how much she tried to keep them from everybody. They found out about her brothers weeks ago, when one of them attacked the school. Now, they will find out about her sisters, and what has happened to them. It will start when somebody asks why anyone would call her by another name -- Claudia, to be specific. So she sits in the darkened bedroom and waits, hoping that extra time she spends waiting will prepare her for what is to come.
"What's up, M?"
Rayquan Morris is the first to enter the room. His caffeine- fueled ability to exist within a temporal speed pocket gives him the ability to move faster than the rest of his classmates at Xavier's. He wants to help her. Any friend of Charles Lehnscherr, he believes, is a friend of his, too.
"Please, Rayquan," says Monet, "do not make this any harder for me than it already is."
"Look, yo, I ain't here to judge nobody," Rayquan says as he flips on the light switch. "I'm just tryin' to help out, 'cause right now Frosty wants to get all up in that--"
"I know, Rayquan," interrupts Monet. "Tell me, have you ever had the promise of your future laid to waste by your past? Have you ever watched your plans, your hopes, your whole world simply crumble before your very eyes?"
"Couldn't tell ya. My world was already pretty crumbled when I got here."
*So was ours.* The soothing voice in Monet's mind is followed by a portal that opens to Monet's right. Charles steps through the portal and sits down next to Monet. Behind him is the girl once called Penance, now revealed to be the Clarice Ferguson from the same parallel world as Charles. She walks into the room and blinks the portal closed behind her.
"Yo, you do that?", Rayquan says to Clarice.
"Yeah," she replies. "That's part of my mutant power."
"That's pretty phat," Rayquan replies.
"Are you okay, love?", Charles says to Monet.
"I'm better now," Monet replies, taking his hand in hers. "Stay with me, Charles. I need you now more than ever."
"Of course, I will," he replies, putting an arm around her. He looks up to see Emma Frost standing in the doorway, her arms folded, her eyes looking through everyone in the room.
"Isn't this a touching scene," she says with a grin. "Tell me, Lehnscherr, how long have you known the truth about our divine miss M? How long have you been playing this charade with our friend 'Claudia?'"
"Back off, lady," says Clarice. "You make one move toward Charles and I'll--"
"Hold your fire, Aunt Blink," interrupts Charles, looking up at the White Queen. "With all due respect, Miss Frost, what Monet and I know and have shared in the past is none of your business."
"It is EVERY BIT my business," grits Emma through her teeth as she enters the room. "From the moment she came here, your girlfriend kept the truth about her family hidden from all of us. While you were galavanting about with your father, this girl's brother came and nearly took my students' lives -- your FRIENDS' lives, I might add. I am not about to let 'Claudia' here jeopardize the lives of my students any further. Losing my first class was hard enough."
"Try losing your whole world, Miss Frost," replies Charles.
"Don't even bother to patronize me like that," returns Emma. "Last I checked, your parents were still alive."
She has no time to react to the magnetic pulse that throws her back through the doorway and into the waiting arms of Sean Cassidy, her fellow instructor.
"How DARE you...", she snarls.
"And ye deserved every bit of it, mind witch," replies Sean.
"What!?", Emma protests.
"Ye know as well as I that Charles' real parents died with the rest of his world," says Sean, who stands in front of several of their students in the hallway. "'Twas as cruel as I've ever see ye t' use that against him."
Emma silently stares into Sean, as if to push him away, to remain in control of the situation. She almost admires the fact that he does not back down. "We do this my way, now," he says. She nods reluctantly and steps away from the door, allowing the former X-Man to enter.
"Monet," he says reassuringly, "we want to help ye, but we cannae do a thing for ye if ye continue to hide from us. Much as I donnae approve of Miss Frost's methods, she has a point -- yuir brother nearly killed us all. We have t' think of the security of the children first, which is why we need to know the truth about ye. Please understand this."
Monet looks up at Charles, who nods in agreement with his instructor's words. She takes a deep breath and looks up at her classmates, who have all filed into the room, save for Jubilee and Everett.
"Mister Cassidy," Monet begins, "do you remember asking me about my family a few weeks ago? About my younger twin sisters?"
Sean nods.
"I am those twin sisters."
"Say what?", says Rayquan. Charles raises a hand to silence him, and he respectfully nods and backs away.
"It was only a few years ago," Monet begins, "that I was two eight-year-old girls -- Claudia and Isabelle St. Croix. My parents did their best to shield us from the outside world, because they believed that mutancy ran in our family, and they wanted to protect us from those that would destroy us. The loss of our brother Vincente only made them more adamant in their need to protect us.
"It was only weeks after Vincente died, however, that my other brother's mutation began to manifest itself, and it manifested itself horribly. We watched in horror as he hurled himself upon our servants, one by one, until they became hardened shells of what they once were and died. Yet somehow, I remember seeing his face, and thinking he was... remorseful."
"Which 'I' was this?", says Emma.
"Hush, woman," replies Sean.
"My father immediately took us to our room," Monet continues, "and that's when we learned our family's secret -- they were afraid of a mutant strain in our family's DNA because of our father. He *was* a mutant. He could age people with just a thought, and that is what he did to us.
"I can still remember hearing my mother's screams in the background as my father used his power on us, some desperate measure he believed would save us from our brother's wrath. We were hugging each other in fear when our mutant powers manifested. Claudia had a vast array of psionic powers, but Isabelle was similar to our brother in that she needed another's genetic marrow to survive. She was a symbiote, unable to live without joining with another. She joined the first thing she touched, which was Claudia, and the two became one.
"My father was still in shock from watching this happen when he heard my mother's screams beyond our room. He ran out of the room and into the dining room, where he saw my brother clutching my mother's shoulders, draining the life out of her."
A tear falls slowly down Monet's cheek. "He did the only thing he thought he could do. He began to age them both, hoping that it would force my brother to let go of her. But he failed, and I watched from behind the door as my mother died of old age in my brother's grasp.
"He dropped my mother carelessly to the ground and swore vengeance against my father and all his children before he disappeared into the walls. I will never forget the look on my brother's face, blood red and growling for what my father had done."
"That's why Louis St. Croix is part of the mutant underground," says Sean. "Isn' it?"
"Yes," Monet replies. "He is my uncle, and he knew of my father's mutant power long before the rest of the world. That is why he remains sympathetic to mutants to this day."
"Did ye ever see yuir brother again?", asks Sean.
"No," Monet replies. "I had no idea what happened to him until the day he attacked Chamber at the airport."
"Your brother seemed to know about you, though," says Emma. "Why is that?"
Monet's eyes shut, her breathing becoming uneven. Charles tries to calm her down through their psionic link, but suddenly, he notices something closed off from him.
"You're still keeping secrets, Monet," Emma says. "What are you trying to...Nnnnngggghhh!"
Emma stumbles backward, barely able to balance herself against the wall. "For God's sake, get a hold o' yuirself, woman," says Sean, helping her back to her feet.
"Psychic backlash," mutters Emma. "Second one in two weeks. That little Nate Grey bastard..."
Charles' eyes snap to attention at the sound of the name. He slowly steps behind Blink and eases his hand into hers.
"Who?", asks a confused Paige.
"This supposedly ultra-powerful telepath that has been wreaking havoc on the astral plane," replies Sean. "Xavier warned us that the boy is too powerful for his own good. Woe be to the psi-sensitive when he cuts loose, lass."
A sudden chill envelops the room, and as everyone turns in the direction of the cold air, they see Manchild stepping through a portal, grabbing Blink by the waist and taking her with him.
"No!", shouts Monet, who dives for the portal, but merely flies toward the back of the room.
"What just happened there?", asks Angelo.
"He meant to do that," replies Emma. "He heard the name Nate Grey, and he used that psychic backlash as a distraction, so he could leave undetected. He used her power to do it, too. Remarkable."
Monet cannot hear a word Emma Frost speaks. Her sole mental focus is on the one with whom she shares a psionic link. *Charles,* she shouts at him, *what do you think you're doing!?*
---
"Charles, where are we?", asks Blink.
"The main computer room," replies Manchild, quickly taking a seat in front of a wall of monitors. "A psionic signal that big is almost always registered on our system. I should be able to track it to...there, right on the Mediterranean."
*Charles, what are you doing?* Manchild does his best to ignore M's pleas and focus on the matter at hand.
"What's going on here, Charles?", says Blink. "Tell me."
Manchild turns back to her. "Do you remember the boy about my age -- well, my age now -- that fought Holocaust in Apocalypse's lair? He had a patch of white hair and a glow of some kind in his left eye."
"I...yes," replies Blink. "I only caught a brief glimpse of him, though. Why?"
"You'll get a better look soon," says Manchild. "He's here."
"What!?"
*Charles, wait for me, please.*
"I know it sounds strange," Manchild continues, "but he somehow made it through as well. I've seen him in my dreams some nights, as if he's trying to establish some sort of connection with me. He's an immensely powerful psi, Aunt Blink, and we have to help him. If he falls into the wrong hands, he could hurt us all."
Blink takes a moment to absorb all this sudden information, remembering why it was that she became an X-Man in the first place -- to prevent what almost happened to her from happening to anyone else.
"Okay," Blink nods. "Let's go find him."
"We already have," says Manchild, pointing at the map on one of the monitors in front of him. "Can you teleport us there?"
"I think so," replies Blink, who takes a deep breath, then opens up a hole in the air in front of them, revealing a suddenly angry ocean crashing upon the rocks at the edge of the shore. The faint sounds of battle echo in the distance.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Charles?", says a hesitant Blink.
*Charles, for God's sake, don't go!*
"Yes," he replies. "I've learned from some of the best since I've been here. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, and you, too, if you need the help."
"Okay," says Blink, "but just one thing before we go."
"What is it?"
"Drop the 'aunt,'" she says with a grin. "Just Blink. You look older than me now, and it sounds silly."
"Deal." Manchild throws an arm around her waist and looks to the blue sky in front of them. "Hang on," he says, flying through the portal and toward the mountainside.
"Yo, Chuck!"
Perkolater quickly enters the room and watches as Manchild and Blink fly away. He ponders following them until the portal suddenly closes, darkening the room once again. The old man appears to his side. *It is for the best, young one.*
"Why?", says Perkolater. "What'd you do?"
*Begin the world anew.*
Perkolater cocks an eyebrow at the old man's words as Banshee, Emma Frost, Husk and M run into the room behind him.
"What happened?", says Banshee.
"Look," says Husk, pointing at the computer screens on the wall. "That's a map of Greece. Why'd they need that?"
"It's where Nate Grey is," replies Emma. "Isn't it, Gateway?"
"Ye sonofabitch!", shouts Banshee at the old man. "What have ye done with our students?"
"He's done nothing," says M as she falls to her knees and buries her head in her hands. "He's only brought them together. He's trying to fix what he has broken."
"Broken?", says a confused Perkolater.
"This is bigger than all of us, Rayquan," says M, "much bigger." She looks back at the old man with a stare as cold as her heart has become.
*Damn you, Mentor. Damn you...*
************************************************************************
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ARC THE SECOND -- THE BETRAYAL
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART ONE -- BROTHERS IN ARMS
"The challenges we took were hard enough
They get harder now
even when we think we've had enough"
- Seal, "Don't Cry"
* * *
"You!"
*Of course, it's me. Did you think I would let any of you survive what is to come?*
"You may have killed the X-Men, Onslaught, but you will never kill the dream."
*On the contrary, Miss Grey. The dream is dead...*
---
"Please, Nate," begs Threnody as she struggles in the monster's grasp. "Don't let him use me to get you. I'm not worth it. I swear, just let me go."
Nate Grey came to this strange, parallel world only weeks ago, thinking that he had finally escaped all the horrors that the Age of Apocalypse inflicted on his life. In the midst of what was once a serene Mediterranean landscape, however, Nate is learning that some horrors never go away.
The monster with the bright orange armor is called Holocaust. He believes himself to be the son of Apocalypse. He has a new employer now, however, one that wants this powerful psi delivered at any cost.
"Your call, hot shot," he taunts. "You coming with me, or do I cook your girlfriend for dinner tonight?"
"Don't listen to him, Nate," Threnody pleads. "Just go. I'm not worth it."
Nate sighs at his dilemma, then lowers his head. "No, Thren," he says, "that's where you're wrong. You win, Holocaust. You want me, you got me."
"Well," says Holocaust, "done in by a woman. Isn't thaaAARRGH!"
Nate looks up to see Holocaust thrown to the sandy beach and Threnody pulled away from him. "That pulse," he thinks to himself, "that was...magnetic?"
"Do you remember me, Nathan?" He turns toward the commanding voice behind him, seeing a powerful blond adolescent in a red uniform floating above the water that crashes on the beach. "Do you remember watching me rest in my father's arms in his friend's deserted mansion? Do you remember seeing the young boy lost in the battle of Apocalypse's lair, or on the astral beach where you found yourself lost in thought?"
Nate does not need his enormous telepathic powers to know the answer. "Holy shit," he says. "You're Magneto's kid, aren't you?"
"Indeed, Nathan," replies Manchild. "I have survived the Age of Apocalypse, the same as you, and I have come to this place today to put an end to the wrath of this evil creation."
"What?", shouts Holocaust. "The son of Magneto? Alive?"
"Believe it, monster, for this day, you shall know the name of Manchild!" He charges toward Holocaust and plants both fists into the villain's chest, throwing him back several yards. Manchild lands blow after blow upon Holocaust's armor, looking for a way to crack it.
"You're definitely a strong one, kid," says Holocaust, "but you're not strong enough." He throws the club that surrounds his left hand and lands squarely on Manchild's chin, throwing him backward into the sky, but leaving him unharmed.
"Now, Thren!"
Holocaust turns toward Nate, who stands in front of Threnody and telekinetically guides her massive plasma bursts toward the monster. Holocaust takes the brunt of the blast and finds himself flying high into the sky. Nate and Threnody both watch as Holocaust splashes far off into the sea.
"We got him on the ropes," says Nate, charging toward the water. "Let's go finish him off!"
"No, Nathan." Manchild grabs Nate by the shoulder to restrain him, only to realize his mistake too late. "Nnnnnggghh!"
"Whoa," says Nate as Manchild pulls his hand away. "You okay?"
"Yes," Manchild replies. "I have inherited parts of both of my parents' powers, so when my skin touches another's, I gain part of their powers. *You are even more powerful than I imagined.*
*Yeah,* Nate replies telepathically, *So why'd you stop me?*
"Partly because we need time to plan," Manchild says, "so that we can insure Holocaust's defeat. But I also stopped you to show you this." He points at the shoreline, where the injured are scattered among the debris.
"Oh, man, the people," says Nate. "I forgot all about them."
"We have to get them out of here," says Manchild. "We cannot let our fight with that horseman take another life."
"I hear ya, Charlie," Nate replies. "Allow me." He quickly floats above the crowd and creates a bevy of telekinetic bubbles, lifting all of the people away from the debris and toward safety. As he does this, Manchild catches sight of a woman he thinks he recognizes.
"I'm worried about him," says Threnody as she watches Nate. "He's been overexerting himself ever since I met him. People told him he's gonna burn himself out, but I just don't think he's listening."
Manchild says nothing, and she can feel his stare lift the hair on her arms.
"Why are you...oh...oh, God." It is then that Threnody remembers the boy that the Bedlam Brothers helped deliver to Mr. Sinister.
"Look, I never meant for that to happen. I was only doing what I could to keep from...oh, God...please, believe me, there wasn't any other way."
"Was there?", says Manchild. "You would have let me die as a child at Sinister's hands to preserve your own prison?"
"If I tried to free you, Sinister would have killed us both," Threnody replies. "We both know that."
"Do we?"
A giant explosion of water and sand throws them both back on the beach. "Like it matters now," says Holocaust, stepping from the ocean, "because I'm going to kill you both right here."
Holocaust raises the armored club that surrounds his left hand, only to watch it disappear for a split second then reappear. Other sections of his armored suit suddenly begin to do the same.
"Wha...what's this?", says the surprised horseman. "Could it be that..."
"You know what they say about X-Men, Holocaust," interrupts Blink, who steps through a portal in the sky and onto the beach. "They're awfully hard to kill."
"I'm sure your friend Mister Creed might have something to say about that," replies Holocaust.
"He did," says Blink. "After all, you never killed him."
"What? Do you...ARRRRRRRRGGGHHH!"
"C'mon, punk!", shouts Nate, serving up a series of psionic spikes at Holocaust. "You haven't got the balls to stand up to me again! C'MON!"
*Nathan, Blink -- quickly,* Manchild tells his friends psionically. *Psi-link with me. I have a plan.* With that, the three teenagers align themselves in a triangle, Blink and Nate standing on the sand, while Manchild floats in the air. As Blink temporarily displaces sections of Holocaust's armor, Nate fires telekinetic bursts into the gaps opened for him, causing the flame-enshrouded figure inside the armor to stumble and convulse violently. With each attack on Holocaust, Threnody feels the energy begin to grow inside her, and she curls into a fetal position on the beach, trying to keep herself in control.
"You little bastards!", shouts Holocaust as he charges, but a magnetic sweep of the air throws the monster back to the beach.
"You cannot hope to defeat our combined efforts," says the approacing Manchild. "Do you surrender, horseman?"
"Never!", Holocaust replies. "You are as arrogant as your father, and just like him, you played yourself into a trap! Once my new employer learns of you all, he will destroy each and every one of you!"
"Defiant till the end," says Manchild. "So be it."
He raises a hand high into the air. "This, Holocaust, is for my sister."
Concentrating all of his combined powers on his fist, Manchild pounds upon the chest of Holocaust, shattering his armor into a thousand pieces. As it shatters, Threnody screams in pain behind Nate.
"Thren!", he shouts, running toward her to help. Manchild turns toward the scream to see if he can help, forgetting for a moment about the fire-covered skeleton below him.
"Foolish child!", shouts Holocaust as he rises up and grabs Manchild's neck with both hands. "I'll have your very soul!"
"NO!" Blink begins to run toward Holocaust, but is stopped by a firm hand upon her shoulder. "No, child," an unfamiliar voice commands. "Let them finish."
A skull with orange eyes stares intently at Manchild's face, waiting for him to disappear. "Give up, son of Magneto," says Holocaust. "You're supposed to die right now!"
"You don't know me very well, Holocaust," Manchild replies. "You see, not only am I the son of Magneto, but also the son of Rogue, which means that when another mutant touches me, I gain their powers."
Holocaust's bone jaw drops. Manchild wraps his hands around his opponent's head. "And you've just given your power to me!", he shouts. With that, Holocaust screams in horror, slowly evaporating into the fire that surrounds him.
Manchild drops to his knees and keels over, his head unsteady, his fists vibrating, his uniform covered with burn marks and holes from the flames that continue to dance around him. As he struggles to control the forces that he has absorbed, he hears a voice, distant but familiar, almost maternal in its caring tone.
"Let it go, son," it says. "Just let it go."
Manchild's shoulders rise from his knees, and with an anguished cry, he releases a white-hot fire from his body, darkening the blue sky above him, forcing everyone else left on the beach to run for cover, save for one standing figure.
As the fire dissipates, everyone looks up to see Manchild lying face down on the sand, his head upon his forearm, his shoulders twitching as he sobs quietly. The others stare at him blankly, unable to understand why he would be so distraught over his supposed victory.
"Don't cry, child," the voice says. "Everything will be okay."
"No," Manchild replies. "Everything will not be okay. I have become a murderer. I have taken another man's life away from him."
Manchild can feel a gentle hand stroking his tousled blond hair. "Oh, child, that was no man. That was a monster, a machine designed for the sole purpose of killing, one that would have relished your death had you not been so strong. If anything, he committed suicide by forcing your hand without knowing all of your abilities."
"But even that cannot justify what I have done. He was indeed a man, for I looked into his mind and watched his memories as they happened. Even after expelling his essence, I can see him as a child, playing with his mother."
"And he gave up that childhood to become a murderer. You have not lost that, young one. See how you mourn for his passing, how you weep bitter tears over a death in which others would revel and glorify? No, child, you are not a murderer -- you're an avenger."
Manchild slowly rolls over to his side and looks up toward the hauntingly familiar voice in his ears, and through his tear-filled eyes, he sees the face of a woman he never expected to meet in his lifetime -- a woman whom his mother watched die amidst the rubble of their former home, a woman whose lifeless body his father cradled in his arms in the ashes of Wundergore Mountain. As the memories of his parents coarse through his mind, Manchild rises from the beach and throws his arms tightly around her shoulders.
"Wanda," he whispers in his sobs. "Oh, God, Wanda..."
"Shhhh," replies the Scarlet Witch as she returns his embrace. "It's all right, child. Everything will be all right."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART TWO -- SECOND CHANCES
"Have you come here for forgiveness?
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus
with the lepers in your head?"
- U2, "One"
---
* * *
After hours in Harlem.
They have just spent a few hours talking with each other, talking with people in the neighborhood, laughing and enjoying themselves. As Monica Chavis and Sally Blevins enter the apartment, however, their smiles disappear as they stare at the broken television lying in a puddle on the floor.
"Ahmad," Monica says to her fiancee. "What's wrong, baby?"
Ahmad Parker sits silent on the couch, his forehead in his hands, trying his best to hide the lump in his throat and the pained expression on his face.
"Sleepy's dead," he says.
---
"So who's she?", says Nate.
"I...I can't believe...," mutters Blink.
"The Scarlet Witch," whispers Threnody. "She's one of the Avengers."
"Avengers?", replies a befuddled Nate. "What are they?"
Wanda Maximoff ignores the voices behind her as she gently sways back and forth, trying to soothe the crying teenager in her arms. "It's okay, Charles," she whispers. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."
"You...you know my name?"
Charles Xavier Lehnscherr was born into a world in which Wanda Maximoff was murdered. His only knowledge of her is based on the memories of his parents, Magneto and Rogue, which were ingrained in his mind the day his mutant powers manifested. It is a bittersweet irony for the young mutant called Manchild, then, that he finds himself holding this world's parallel of his half-sister just moments after killing Holocaust, the mutant that killed her on his world.
"I got a call from Banshee just moments before I arrived," says Wanda. "He told me as much as he could about you."
"And...you're not angry?", says Charles.
"Why should I be?", she replies. "We don't choose our parents, do we?"
"Look, I don't mean to be rude here," says Nate, "but just who are you and how did you get here, lady?"
"Nate?", whispers Threnody, her eyes glowing an unnatural shade of pink. "Help."
"Allow me, child." Wanda bites her lip slightly and raises a hand toward Threnody, who stiffens briefly, then exhales loudly in relief.
"Wow," says Blink. "What did you do?"
"She dissipated all the stored energy in my system," says Threnody. "How did you do that? That's impossible for me to do."
"No, child," replies Wanda with a warm smile. "Only improbable. I'm good at that." She turns to Nate. "You wanted to know who I was. You may call me the Scarlet Witch, and I am a member of a group of superheroes called the Avengers. I came here because our monitors picked up psionic power spikes more powerful than any we have ever registered on our system. Usually, I would organize a group to come with me to investigate, but I decided on a hunch to come here alone. Banshee's call only confirmed for me that I made the right decision. I take it that the Avengers did not exist on the world from which you came."
"A lot of things didn't exist on the world from which I came," replies Nate.
"I understand," says Wanda. "Perhaps when we return to Xavier's, we can straighten everythin-"
"What!?", interrupts Nate, his left eye glowing brightly. "Xavier's!?!?? No way in hell you're taking me to that bastard! He tried to KILL me a few weeks ago!"
"What are you talking about?", replies Wanda. "Charles Xavier is a peace-loving man. He has dedicate his whole life to-"
"No, Wanda," interrupts Charles as he slowly rises to his feet. "Nathan is right. I noticed an image in Holocaust's mind, toward...the end of his memories. It was an image of unspeakable horror, one that still shakes me as I look upon it this very moment."
He slowly unfastens the X-logo buckle on his tatttered uniform and flings it into the sea. It pierces a wave crashing on the shore and skips across the water for miles in the distance. "As much as it pains me to say it, Wanda," he says, "Nathan is right not to trust Charles Xavier. I don't know if any of us can trust him now."
Charles turns to Blink, who watches as the same buckle on her uniform clicks off and drops into the sand. "Blink," he says, "I have managed to retain a bit of the telepathy I accidently gleaned from Nate. I'm going to put a location inside your mind, and I want you to open a portal there. Okay?"
"Sure," says Blink, who then receives a stack of mental images. "Got it." She opens a portal to her left, allowing everyone to see a wooden pier by a dark beach. On that pier is a thick white pole with a black arrow pointing out into the ocean and the words, "Cuba, 90 miles south" printed underneath the arrow.
"So where're you taking us?", says Nate.
"Key West, Florida," Charles replies. "We have to find my father."
"Father?", says a startled Wanda. "You mean...he's alive?"
"You mean nobody told you?", asks Charles.
"No," Wanda replies, turning her head away. "Perhaps that was for the best."
"Wanda," says Charles, "I have no idea what happened between you and your father on this world, but you have my word -- this is not the same man you might have known before. He has changed for the better."
"I hope you're right, child," she replies. "I hope you're right." One by one, everybody left on the beach steps through the portal onto another continent.
---
"Think about it, though," says Rasha. "You're underestimating people's ability to forgive. I mean, look at Marion Barry. If he could do it--"
"But is Marion Barry a murderer?", replies Erik. "Do not take this the wrong way; I appreciate what you are trying to do here, but at this point, I see too little hope for penance in this world. It's better for me, for all of us, if I stayed here, separated from the rest of the world."
Rogue sighs. "You know ya can't do that forever, Erik," she says. "You never could. 'Sides, everyone gets a shot at redemption at least once. Ah know your time'll come."
Erik looks up at Rogue and smiles slightly. "Perhaps it will," he says, "but until then..." His voice trails off as his eyes turn toward the night sky.
"Somethin' wrong, Erik?", asks Rogue.
"There's something out there," Erik replies, "something coming this way."
"Maybe it's them," says Rasha, pointing at the shadows making their way toward the home of Magneto. As they step into the moonlight, Rogue can make out the first shadow's face, and the torn fabric that was once his uniform.
"Charles!", she shouts, jumping up from the porch and running out toward them. "Good lord, sugah, what happened to you?"
"Hello, mother," says Charles, who creates an ultra-thin magnetic shield around his body as Rogue runs up to hug him. He rests his chin on her shoulder and fights back the tears as best he can.
"Are you okay, sugah?", she says.
"He was in a big battle," says Wanda, "but he's a survivor. He'll be okay."
"Wanda?", says Rogue. "What are you doing he-- Nate!?"
"Hi, Rogue," Nate says almost sheepishly. "I see you've made some friends."
Nate points at Erik, who stands directly behind Rogue and puts a hand on Charles' shoulder. "Are you okay, son?", he asks.
Wanda's jaw drops at his words. Suddenly, a tidal wave of memories come crashing down upon her -- memories of the heinous things the monster called Magneto did to her, her brother, her friends, in the name of genetic purity. She still remembers the horror she felt upon learning that the villain that stood on the verge of killing her was actually the one that sired her. She still sees herself frozen in his magnetic grasp, unable to move, completely at his whim, and as she stares at his younger visage, she is again frozen by his mere presence, yet she can't help but think that he looks... remorseful?
"Wanda," he says to her finally. "I understand your--"
"Don't say it, Erik," says Rogue. "Wanda, why don't you and me go inside and have some coffee or something?"
"Uh, sure," she replies, her eyes still fixed in shock at the white-haired mutant standing with Charles. She eventually turns away, leaving Charles and the others alone with his father.
"Well, I take it you have made some new friends," Erik says, smiling at the boy who would be his son.
---
Rogue sits Wanda down at the kitchen table as gently as possible, then floats toward a cabinet by the sink.
"Ah know what you're thinking, Wan--"
"Good Lord, Rogue, how can you live with that man!? After all he's done over the past two decades, after all the times he's declared himself the sworn enemy of humanity. What did he do to you to make you leave the X-Men?"
"Bite your tongue, Wanda," Rogue shouts in reply, pointing an accusing coffee mug at the Avenger. "Erik had nothin' to do with my leavin' the X-Men, and he sure as hell ain't controllin' me."
Wanda sighs. "I'm sorry, Rogue," she says. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about--"
"Oh, no, we definitely need ta talk about it." Rogue fills the mugs with water, then puts them in the microwave. "He's your daddy. You got a right to know. Cream and sugar?"
"Yes, thank you."
Rogue takes various items from the cabinets and drawers of the kitchen and places them on the counter as the water comes to a boil inside the microwave. "How much ya know about Li'l Charles?", asks Rogue.
"Very little. Banshee only told me the basics Magneto's son from a parallel world, lots of power, went off to find that Nate Grey boy. He seems like such a good soul, though."
"Better'n you could imagine, and he's really had an effect on Erik."
"How so?"
"You remember when Professor X wiped Magneto's mind clean, right? Well, Magneto somehow got free of Avalon, and he was an amnesiac when he ran into Charles. Well, you could imagine how someone who doesn't know himself from Adam might react to this powerful-as-all-git- out teenager callin' him daddy. So they went to see Professor Xavier, who gave Magneto his memories back."
"But I thought Xavier wiped his mind clean."
Rogue puts a small coffee bag and a spoon in each coffee mug and carries them over to the table. "So did Ah, but Ah guess ol' Charlie didn' have the heart to go the whole distance. Ah think he did it just as a favor to Li'l Charles mahself. Heck, I'da done the same thing if Ah could."
"You speak so highly of young Charles. How much has he done for you?"
Rogue sits down at the table and looks into her coffee as she stirs it. "That parallel world he's from? Well, he was mah son there."
Wanda's eyes widen. "Your SON?"
"Ah know, an' just hearin' that got me to thinkin'. Ah don't know a whole lot about the world he came from -- and judgin' from what he's told me, Ah don't wanna know a whole lot -- but just the idea that Ah could have a son, that Ah could actually know what that feels like. Ya can't imagine, Wanda. An' if you think that's something, think about what he's done for Erik."
"Go on."
"He's a changed man 'causa Charles, Wanda. He's not out to control the world or seek vengeance on everyone for what they did to him. He even looks back on his life now and feels ashamed of some of the stuff he's done. It's like he's tryin' to atone for the past."
"Then why is he hiding down here?"
"He's afraid that nobody will believe he's changed, like he has to separate himself from the rest of the world, else it'll just start another war. Almost like he's doin' time for what he did."
"But you're here with him."
"He needs someone right now. Someone's gotta help him stay on the right path; that's what me and Rasha have been doin'. I don't wanna see him end up the way he was before. He just can't."
Wanda tilts her head at Rogue. "You're falling in love with him, aren't you?"
"He's not the same Magneto anymore, Wanda. He's kind, he's warm, and he really wants to be a better person now. He wants me to stay with him, to help him. And he's helped me..."
Rogue's voice trails off, and a slight smile forms on her face. "What?", says Wanda. "What is it?"
"Ah'm three days late, Wanda."
Wanda's jaw drops. "HOLY--ROGUE!?"
"Shush, Wanda," says Rogue in a half-whisper. "Ya want all those kids rushing in here?"
"Oh, God, Rogue," says Wanda. "Does...does he know?"
"Erik? No, I haven't told him yet. I wanna be sure first before I say a word to him."
"But how did you...I mean, your mutant power..."
"It was Charles that showed us how. We could each manipulate our bio-magnetic fields enough to make it work. Now ya know why I think the world of that boy. He's done so much for us, like we really are his parents. Now, who knows? Maybe we can be that for real here."
"I..I don't know what to say."
"Say you're happy for us, Wanda. That's all we really want. I've always believed in second chances, and to see Erik finally getting one means a lot to me."
Wanda nods and smiles. "Okay."
"An' one other thing. Be a sister for Charles. He's made a lot of friends here, but he's really all alone. His world ended in a nuclear war, and he needs people here to look out for him. Could ya do that for me, Wanda?"
Wanda smiles. "After hearing all he's done to change my father for the better, I don't see how I couldn't."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART THREE -- REASONS FOR BEING
"So warm and insightful
were you in my eyes
I was sure the rightful
guardian of my life
Damn you betrayer
how you lied"
-Natalie Merchant, "Seven Years"
* * *
"Whaddaya mean, 'I can't believe it?'", says an impatient Nate Grey as he stands in front of the fireplace. "The man tried to KILL me how many times!? How can you not see the threat that he is?"
"Try to see this from my perspective, Nathan," says Magneto. "Charles Xavier has been a peace-loving man for as long as I have known him. His whole reason for creating the X-Men was to promote cooperation between mutants and humans. You will recall that on your world, I created the X-Men in his honor with the same goal."
*Charles?*
*Not now, Monet. This is an urgent matter we're discussing.*
"Wasn't he also the man who took your memories away from you?", counters Nate.
"He had very good reasons to do so," Magneto replies, "and he was kind enough to return them when he had the opportunity."
*Come back, Charles. Please, I need you.*
*Monet, my family needs me right now. You know how important my family is to me. You should also know what this could mean for the world.*
"Charlie, could you keep it down over there?", says Nate.
"I didn't hear him talking", says Threnody.
Charles casts a cold stare back at Nate. "I would appreciate some privacy, thank you," he says.
*So does this mean I'm not important anymore? Does this mean you'll answer your precious father's every beck and call?*
"Ouch," says Nate.
Charles lets out an impatient sigh. "If you all will excuse me," he says as he flies out of the living room and down the hallway.
"That was tremendously rude you, Nathan," says Magneto.
"Hey, can I help it if he broadcasts his thoughts to everyone?", Nate replies.
"Sit down, boy."
"Look, I'm a telep--"
"SIT!"
Nate immediately recoils at Magneto's emphatic gesture and takes a seat on the couch next to Threnody.
"Let me remind you, boy," Magneto says to him, "that you are a guest in my home, and I will not tolerate any further rudeness toward me or my family. Perhaps you had not noticed, but Charles Xavier Lehnscherr was the only person who could verify your story, and because of your carelessness, he left the room. That kind of thinking in a battle will get you KILLED. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
---
Charles leans against the bathroom sink and stares into the mirror, as if looking into the face that goes with the voice in his mind.
"What has gotten into you, Monet?", he says. "Don't you know what is happening out there?"
*All I know is you left me when I needed you most,* Monet replies telepathically. *Why, Charles?*
"Because you're still hiding something from me, Monet. I asked you not to keep any secrets from me. How can I love you if I cannot trust you?"
*But don't you know how much I need you? Can't you see that I cannot live without you?*
Charles backs away from the sink. "I don't like your tone of voice, Monet. What are you saying?"
*You know exactly what I'm saying -- you're the one who has helped me rise above my dual identity. You're the one who makes ME one. Why do you think I love you so much? Why else did I expunge Exodus from your mind? Why else do you think I lured my brother here to attack us?*
Charles slowly feels each nerve in his body stand on end. "You did what?"
Monet is silent.
"Answer me!"
*...I baited my brother into finding us. I found him in Boston at the same time we were there, and I never would have let him near any of us. But I let him attack us, because I knew you would come back to save me, and I could touch you again, and I could be whole.*
Charles Lehnscherr has never known the hollow feeling that permeates a heart when it realizes that a trusted companion is really somebody else, somebody completely different than the person they knew before. For a moment, he thinks back on how his childhood was taken away from him by the scientific madman called Sinister. Now, as Monet's words slowly sink into his mind, he slowly feels his childhood slipping away again...
---
"Look, I said I was sorry," says Nate. "What more do you want me to do?"
"You will apologize to my son when he returns," says Magneto.
"Magneto, I don't mean to interrupt," says Blink, "but this bickering isn't really getting us anywhere. Something bad is happening out there, but we still don't know what it is or what we can do about it. I just think we should get Charles back in here and talk--"
"What the...?" Nate's eyes grow wide as senses a man's anger reaching its boiling point, and he throws up the strongest telekinetic shield he can possibly create.
"EVERYBODY DOWN!"
"What are you..."
Magneto doesn't get a chance to finish. His words are lost in an explosion that shatters wood, metal and glass into pieces. He quickly throws up a magnetic shield and pulls the suddenly cowering figures of Blink, Threnody and Rasha inside. Nate struggles to hold his shield in place as a small trickle of blood runs from his nose and onto his lips. As the debris finally settles, Rogue flies into the room, holding the dazed figure of the Scarlet Witch in one arm.
"Erik," she shouts, "that pulse was magnetic! What in the Grant Hill is goin' on around here!?"
"Look!" Blink points toward a hole in the ceiling created by the explosion. Looking up into the sky, Rogue immediately sees Manchild floating in mid-air, metallic debris orbiting his body.
"DAMN YOU, MONET!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?!??"
*Charles, please don't do this. I've done nothing to harm you.*
"LIAR!!! YOU *USED* ME!!! ALL THIS TIME I THOUGHT YOU CARED FOR ME!!! I WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A *DRUG* FOR YOU, WASN'T I!?!?? SOME MERE POSSESSION OF YOURS THAT YOU COULD THROW AWAY WHEN YOU WERE FINISHED WITH ME!!!"
Monet's voice suddenly becomes distraught. *God, no, Charles, I would never leave you! I want to give you everything for what you've done for me! I want to stay with you forever!*
"AND HOW MANY PEOPLE MIGHT DIE SO YOU COULD ACHIEVE THAT!?!?? HOW MANY INNOCENTS WOULD YOU HAVE YOUR BROTHER SLAUGHTER SO THAT I COULD MAKE YOU WHOLE AGAIN!?!?? HOW MANY, MONET!!!!!"
"Sugah, what's gotten into you?" Rogue flies toward Charles and takes him by the arm.
"Stay back, mother!", says Manchild. "I don't know what I might do to you right now!"
*Charles, please...*
"NO!!!!!" A magnetic pulse throws Rogue backward in the sky. "I SWEAR TO YOU FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, MONET ST. CROIX, YOU WILL NEVER USE ME AGAIN!!!!! NEV--AAAUUUUUUUUUGGGHH!!!!!"
"Are you all right, Rogue?" Magneto rushes toward Rogue's aid, but she barely acknowledges it. She is too worried about the boy that would be her son.
"Charles!" She quickly flies back toward Manchild, with Magneto following behind her. "Tell me what happened, sugah. Don't you shut me out, now."
Manchild slowly curls into a fetal position, his face clenched, his breath ragged and uneven. He softly calls out to the girl he used to love in his mind.
*Monet? Monet?*
"Don't waste your time," says Nate, who rises into the sky behind Manchild. "I broke the link."
"What!?", says Rogue.
"She was hurting him, and he couldn't shut it off himself. I was only trying to help."
"Dammit, boy, you're trying my patience!", says Magneto. "I just lectured you on using your power responsibly! Did every word I say to you go in one ear and--"
"No, father," says Manchild as he slowly uncurls himself. "Nathan was right to break my psionic link with Monet. She wouldn't open herself up to me totally. If she could not trust me with all of her secrets, I could not love her like I should."
Rogue tries to catch a tear before it falls down her cheek. She cannot help but think about the dark secret a past love once kept from her. "Poor baby," she says, her voice cracking as she speaks. "Are you all right?"
"In time," Manchild says, "I will be."
He turns toward Magneto. "Come, Father. There is a matter which requires our immediate attention..."
---
The pupils of her eyes have faded into a fine white gloss. She sits perfectly motionless in the air, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, her knees bent near her chin, her forehead pressed up against the glass of a window pane that shows nothing but complete darkness outside. The wordly possessions that scatter her usually clean room mean nothing to her now, for she has lost everything she ever wanted.
"Monet?"
Jubilation Lee walks into the room with her arm in a sling. She has seen Monet St. Croix in a trance like this more than once. She is in no mood to deal with it now.
"Great. Zoned out us again, huh?"
Monet remains frozen in position.
"Like, what is the matter with you? Can't you at least act halfway normal without Charlie around?"
For a moment, Jubilee thinks she sees Monet cringe slightly at the sound of Charles' name. For a moment, Jubilee thinks she feels sorry for her.
"Look, M, I didn't need to come here to warn you that Frosty's gone nuts. She's says there's something out there that's posing this massive threat to us all, and we have to bug out of here on her jet or something. She's already upset that Charlie and Penny...or Blink, or whoever that was, left, and that Perk somehow managed to disappear on that special-order ten-speed of his. God only knows where he's headed right now."
Monet remains perfectly still.
"I didn't need to come up here and try to fetch you, M, but you've been all zonked out on us since Charles left, and...well, to be honest, I'm kinda worried about ya. So why don't you act normal for once and just snap out of it?"
There is no answer.
Jubilee sighs. "Suit yourself, M, but Frosty's makin' no bones about leaving you here. Hope you can fend for yourself."
She leaves Monet alone with her thoughts, unaware of the lone tear inching slowly down Monet's cheek.
---
"You have a younger half-brother from a parallel universe, your father is alive, and Charles Xavier has gone insane. You really get your quarter's worth out of a phone call, Wanda."
"I know this is a lot to hit you with, Steve, but I really need your help here. If what my brother says is true, we have to act quickly to avoid what could be a worldwide catastrophe."
"Understood. I'll assemble the remaining Avengers and get to the X-Mansion as quickly as I can."
"Thank you, Steve."
"Are you sure you don't want us to come and get you?"
"Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine."
"What should I tell Pietro?"
"...Nothing yet. He has a lot of resentment toward Magneto, and I'm afraid what his reaction might be if he finds out I'm with him."
"Fair enough. We'll see you when you get here."
"Good luck, Steve."
Wanda hangs up the phone and looks back at the group assembled before her -- Magneto, Rogue, Manchild, Blink, Nate, Threnody and Rasha. She looks over at the blank television monitors and communications devices now built into the wall of the hastily-remodeled house, and she wonders if this is where she will watch the end of the world.
"What happens now?", she says.
"We wait," says Manchild, "we watch what happens, and we steel ourselves for the Onslaught. I guarantee you, Wanda, we will be ready."
Manchild walks toward the wall and faces the blank screens, noticing the reflections of everyone standing behind him in each monitor. Right here, he thinks. It all begins right here.
"On."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
************************************************************************
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ARC THE THIRD -- THE ONSLAUGHT
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART ONE -- FIRST STRIKE
"He told his children those little white lies
The truth would only paralyze them"
-Cowboy Junkies, "Lay It Down"
* * *
"This is truly a glorious occasion in our history, is it not, Uatu?"
The Watcher stands silently above the river, staring out at the Manhattan skyline, recording the events of this day for posterity. A centuries old warrior stands upon the water, looking at his new companion intently.
"But, of course, old friend," says Apocalypse. "Your mere presence here is a sign that something of significance to the entire universe is about to take place. An age of wonders comes to an end on this day, does it not?"
The Watcher remains silent.
"Tell me, Uatu, what mysteries do you behold on this day? What insight could I glean from you on those who stand prepared for war? What events will prove to the world who is fit to survive?"
As the warrior speaks, the eyes of the Watcher stare into the distance, taking note of the sentinels coming over the horizon.
---
"Keep blasting him, Aqua. I'm holding him off just fine."
Kevlar stands in the middle of 119th street, the glow of her protective force field surrounding her Reclamation Squad teammates, Aqua and Image. The laser blasts from the sentinel towering over them disappear into the force field as Aqua fires cannonball-sized water blasts at the giant automaton.
"You sure about that, Kev?", says Aqua, trying to get a closer look at the small dents he makes in the sentinel's armor.
"I've gotten a lot stronger lately, Aqua," Kevlar replies. "I think that incident with Crystal Black and the power enhancer did something to me."
"Good thing," says Image, "because these holograms ain't doin' shit to stop this damn robot."
"Maybe it's time I went on the offensive, then," says Aqua, who lifts himself into the air as steam pours from his pantlegs.
"I can't hold you if you go too much higher, Aqua," says Kevlar.
"No sweat," says Aqua as he waves his arm at the sentinel's hand, creating a blade of water that quickly slices into its weapons system. "I got a little somethin' somethin' from that power enhancer, too, ya know."
<
"Oh, fuck that!", shouts Aqua, his water blasts hitting with increased strength and intensity against the suddenly retreating automaton. "You know, it's bad enough I gotta deal with one of my homies gettin' wet up in the pen -- by his own gangsta bitch brother, at that -- plus, I got that Sinister bitch tryin' to turn my powers out until I'm too damn strong for my own good. Now I gotta deal with some sorry-ass robot tryin' to wreck my neighborhood?"
Aqua's water blasts reach an even higher level of fury as he punches out each word. "I am having the WORST...GOD...DAMN...WEEK!"
As the sentinel stumbles forward, a sudden explosion rips torso apart, forcing Aqua back in the air until he can quickly recover and grab the edge of an apartment building to hold himself up. On the ground, Image and Kevlar watch as the debris from inside the sentinel sprays into the sky, almost aimed at spectators running from the scene.
"NO!", shouts Kevlar, who slaps her hands to the ground and spreads her force field out toward the spectators as far as it an go. They watch as the debris flies directly toward them and bounces harmlessly off their bodies and onto the ground.
"Damn, girl, you HAVE gotten better," says Image.
"I've had plenty of practice lately," replies Kevlar, the spectators staring at her.
"That...that mutie girl," says an older white man in a shirt and tie. "She saved us..."
"That ain't just no mutie girl, mister," says a younger black male. "That's the Reclamation Squad."
"Represent, Kev!" shouts his friend.
Image briefly raises a fist in the air to acknowledge the group, then turns back toward the debris and the sudden appearance of what might be another weapon landing before them.
"Yo, we got company," says Aqua as he floats in a standing position from the rooftops.
"Hold up," says Kevlar. "It's not attacking."
The Reclamation Squad watches as a large jet-like fighter ship made out of red and pink sentinel armor gently lands on the street behind the fallen sentinel. As its engines quickly cut off, a spherical mirror-like cockpit opens up in the middle of the ship. Within the cockpit sits a young Asian adolescent with short black hair, circular- shaped glasses, and a contagious grin on his face.
"Hey, Skids," he says. "Need a ride?"
The grin quickly spreads to a surprised Kevlar.
"Taki!", she shouts. "You little son-of-a-bitch!"
"Eh, I do what I can," he shrugs as Kevlar climbs atop the ship to greet her old partner-in-crime.
"What are you doing out here?", she says.
"Well, there was this giant robot trying to wreck St. Simon's, see, so while he wasn't looking, I got my hands on him, rearranged his programming a little, and came up with this." He gestures his arms around the fighter ship. "Saw a couple other robots out there and figured I'd take 'em out. I guess all those hours of playin' video games paid off, huh?"
"I guess," says Kevlar. "It is so good to see you again."
"You too, Skids."
"Well, it's Kevlar now."
"Sorry. Ol' habits die hard. Heard about you joining this new group out here. I like the baseball jerseys. Black's your color."
"Our color, too, yo!"
Aqua and Image turn toward a familiar voice behind them.
"Perk!?", says Aqua. "What are you doing here?"
"Let's just say the dropout rate at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters just went up," Perkolater replies, "and from the way ol' White Queen was talkin', I wasn't about to jet anywhere without makin' sure Momma was a'ight."
"Everything cool?", asks Image.
"Yeah, it's cool, plus I'm all caffed up, and I got me a big-ass bottle of No-Doz in my pocket. So where the party at, yo!?"
"I don't mean to break up the family reunion here..."
Every head quickly turns to the right-hand side of Taki's fighter ship, where the muscular, uniformed figure of Captain America stands, shield in hand, a serious look on his face.
"...but this isn't the only sentinel wreaking havoc on New York right now. At current count, we've got dozens of these monsters out there attacking people and property relentlessly."
"No problem, Cap," says Taki. "This baby can blast sentinels left and right."
The captain cocks an eyebrow at the boy. "Where did you get this ship, son?"
"Made it myself out of one of those sentinels," replies Taki. "Pretty cool mutant power, huh?"
"Taki, I don't know," says Kevlar, looking out at the metallic flotsam scattered through the street. "Blowing up all those sentinels is gonna leave a lot of debris, and we won't be able to save everybody from all of that."
Aqua scratches his chin, a sudden jolt of inspiration overcoming him. "I think we can get around that," he says. "Yo, Cap, how many big names we got out there fighting the sentinels."
"All but a couple Avengers, as well as Torch and Thing from the Fantastic Four. The X-Men are on their way as well."
"I got an idea," says Aqua, reaching for the cellular phone on his belt. "Kev, you and the kid fly that baby down to Four Freedoms Plaza. I gotta make a phone call."
---
*brrrrring*
*click* "Yeah."
"Yo, this is Aqua from the Reclamation Squad. Mr. Fantasic around?"
"Ahmad! Where are you right now?"
"Somewhere above 121st, but that ain't important. We got ourselves a weapon that might be able to take all these sentinels out."
"What kind of weapon?"
"Take a look out your side window right about...now."
Reed and Sue Richards, along with Dr. Henry Pym and the figure of Iron Man, are greeted by the sight of a giant red and pink fighter ship hovering outside the laboratory floor of Four Freedoms Plaza.
"What's up, guys," says Kevlar, waving at the gathering inside.
"Good lord, Ahmad," says Reed Richards. "Where did you get that?"
"The kid in the cockpit made it," he replies over the intercom. "I'll explain later. Can we borrow your wife for a few minutes? We need something to keep the debris off people."
"Sure," says Sue. "Where should I put the debris?"
"I guess you could fling it into the Hudson. A couple more precious metals won't stop that baby from flowing."
"At least for the short term, I suppose." Sue turns back to her husband. "You going to be okay, honey?"
"I'll be just fine," Reed replies. "You go take a few of those sentinels out for Franklin, okay?"
"I'm worried about him, Reed."
"We'll do everything we can to get him back. Stay strong for all of us, okay."
"Okay."
The Invisible Woman kisses her husband and lifts herself aboard Taki's ship. "Is there going to be room for all of us?"
"Don't worry about that," says Kevlar. "I'll be better off down here." She jumps off the side of the ship and begins to plummet toward the street below.
"Gord Lord!" shouts Reed, stretching his arm toward the ground to try and catch her.
"She just jump?" says Aqua's voice on the intercom.
"She sure did," says Reed. "Is she crazy?"
"Not at all. That force field around her is stronger than you think. She'll be just fine."
Kevlar cracks the pavement as she rolls to the right to stop her inertia. As she checks to make sure nothing is broken, she rises to her feet and notices the stares of several pedestrians.
"Who...who are you?", says one man.
"If you see any sentinel debris," Kevlar replies, "I'm your guardian angel."
---
"Are you guys getting all this?....That appears to be Susan Richards of the Fantastic Four on that fighter ship. We can't see who else might be flying it, possibly her husband Reed, but they are making some rather quick work of these sentinels. We'll try to get the news chopper in a little closer if we can."
As dawn breaks over Key West, Florida, Manchild sits at the communication center he and his father built hours earlier, monitoring the events taking place in New York City as the news media reports them.
"For those of you just tuning in," the female reporter's voice continues, "a group of mutant-hunting robots called the sentinels have attacked several sections of Manhattan and Brooklyn. This follows a reported explosion at Four Freedoms Plaza. We have no idea what might have attacked the Fantastic Four at this time..."
"We do," says Magneto, turning down the volume on the monitor.
"What do you suppose Onslaught wants?" asks Manchild.
"Good question," Magneto replies. "My first guess would be Franklin Richards."
"Who?", says Nate Grey, standing in the corner and lifting a basketball across the room into the air with his telekinetic powers. As he lifts, Blink uses her power of spatial displacement to disrupt Nate's visible telekinetic beams, causing the basketball to bounce back in the corner.
"The son of Reed and Sue Richards, two of the founding members of the Fantastic Four," explains the Scarlet Witch. "He is a powerful young mutant, capable of altering reality and creating matter to his will."
"Whoa," says Rasha, sitting on the edge of the couch and barely avoiding choking on her orange juice. "That's one hell of a power."
"Indeed", says Manchild, "and just the type of thing Onslaught would want in his arsenal. Nate, you've already said Onslaught is a psi capable of your best levels of TK power right?"
"Maybe even more than that," says Nate.
"If he is capable of accessing a power like Franklin Richards," says Manchild, "he could practically mold anything he wanted into his image."
"And make the dream come true," says Magneto, "by all means necessary."
"Good Lord," says Rogue. "What coulda done this to him?"
As she utters those words, Magneto thinks back to that moment on Avalon where he stripped Wolverine of his adamantium skeleton, and where Charles Xavier reached into his mind and shut it off, crying the words, "Never again, Magnus. Never again!" Magneto lowers his head into his hand, suddenly realizing the juxtaposition of Onslaught's goals.
---
"No, Charlie! I wanna go home!"
*Your home is here now, Franklin. You should be thanking me for taking you away from all the hypocrisy of the world you know, for together we can change the world, mold it as we wish. Don't you want to see what the world could be like when we work together?*
"I wanna see my parents! Where are they?"
*They don't matter anymore, Franklin. Now just relax, and don't be afraid. I'm doing this for all of us.*
"No! Please! Don't!"
*Shhhhh. Don't be afraid, Franklin. Just relax...*
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART TWO -- THE TWILIGHT
"I know I gone too far
- Peter Gabriel, "No Self-Control"
* * *
"This is all Magneto's fault. What did he do to the Professor?"
Cyclops sits at the controls of the Blackbird, flanked by Phoenix and Archangel. Gambit, Psylocke, Iceman and Cannonball stand in the back of the cockpit, looking over various monitors and controls.
"I know what you're going through right now, Scott," says Phoenix. "Professor Xavier has been like a father to all of us, but we have no choice anymore -- we have to stop him, especially if he is as capable of even more destruction than we've seen."
"How does Magneto work inta alla this?", asks Cannonball.
"You saw the armor Onslaught was wearing, Sammy," says Iceman. "What do you think?"
"Mebbe somet'in' happen ta ol' Charlie when he wipe Magneto's mind, no?", says Gambit.
"Or when Magneto returned with Manchild," replies Cyclops.
"That doesn't hold," says Psylocke. "Onslaught attacked Juggernaut even before the destruction of Avalon."
"Look, none of that is important anymore," says Archangel. "Our top priority right now is to stop Onslaught before he causes any further destruction."
"You're right, Warren," Cyclops sighs. "One way or another, we have to stop him." He remains stoic at the helm of the Blackbird as his wife mulls over the blueprints of the psionic armor given to her on Muir Island as part of the Xavier Protocols.
"Hey, who's that?" Iceman points out to a large red fighter jet flying effortlessly through the air, blasting Sentinels out of the sky.
---
"You're pretty good, Taki," says Sue Richards as she stands on top of the ship behind the cockpit. "Where did you learn to fly like this?"
"A video game called Descent," replies Taki. "My friends call me the Master of the Mines, so when I turned a loose sentinel into this ship, I patterned its control after that game."
"That's an incredible mutant power," replies Sue. "After this is over, we should talk about your plans for the future. How does an internship with the Fantastic Four sound?"
"I can dig it," Taki replies, gliding the ship down to the left and in between a row of skyscrapers. "Let's finish this last one off, first. Hoooooo-WHEE!"
Taki pulls the trigger on his flight stick and watches as the escaping sentinel is ripped apart by laser fire. As the debris scatters, the Invisible Woman quickly shields the buildings on either side, gathers the debris into her force field and carries it with her as the ship flies toward the river, where the sentinel remains fall harmlessly into the water.
"I just hope those sentinels don't rebuild themselves," says Sue.
"We'll be back if they do," says Taki, whose eyes suddenly wander toward a vibration in the distance. He quickly flies above Manhattan and notices a giant citadel forming in the distance.
"No," says Sue, "he's gotten to Franklin. Scour the city, Taki. Find as many heroes as you can and get them to fly with us to that building. If we're going to take this battle to Onslaught, we'll need all the help we can get."
---
"What is that?", says Threnody, looking at the upper left monitor.
"Another Pulitzer for CNN," quips Rasha. "How did they get there so fast?"
"A little luck, probably," says Wanda.
"No," whispers Magneto, watching the television screen as the fortress of Onslaught is built on-camera.
"What is it, Erik?" asks Rogue.
"It is the model for a safe haven I built in Antarctica," Magneto replies. "I created it should something happen aboard Avalon that required my immediate evacuation. Now, Charles has taken that blueprint and warped it into his own citadel."
"How did he know what your safe haven was like?", asks Rasha. Magneto does not answer, but he knows.
"I'm getting the coordinates for that fortress now," says Manchild, writing down a set of numbers from an RGB monitor. "Nathan, Blink, get ready."
---
*People of the world, today begins a new era in our planet's history -- an era unlike any other, in which mankind will no longer be done in by its own duplicity...*
"Makes ya wanna hurl, don't it?" mutters The Thing from a nearby rooftop.
"I don't even wanna think about it right now, Ben," replies Johnny Storm. "All I know is that my little nephew is in there, and we have to get him out."
Suddenly, Taki's ship rises up behind them, a plethora of superheroes standing on Sue Richards's Invisible platform -- Captain America, Hawkeye, Romanova, Vision, Giant Man, Mr. Fantastic, Iron Man, Aqua, Image, Kevlar, Bishop and Thor.
"Hop on," says Sue.
"Jeez Louise, Susie," says Thing. "You sure got friends in all the right places."
"Desperate times, Ben," she replies. "You with us, baby brother?"
"You have to ask?" he says. "Flame on!"
With that, Johnny Storm's entire body turns a dazzling bright orange, and the Human Torch takes to the air, following the ship as its makes its way toward the citadel. He takes a look at the streets down below, seeing two blurred figures follow the ship on foot.
"Slow down, yo!", says Perkolater, his voice high-pitched and awkward. "This ain't real super-speed, ya know."
"Then you'll just have to do your best to keep up," replies Quicksilver.
They follow the ship until it reaches Onslaught's citadel in Central Park, where the ship lands directly behind Onslaught as he continues his speech. He is flanked by several news and police helicopters.
*No more will we fear each other. No more will we let our petty biogtries determine the course of our lives. For now, I shall determine that course for you. I will show you the way to the truth.*
"Hey, Onslaught!", shouts The Thing. "Turn yer flamin' red butt around and face us, ya bum!"
A bright flash of light suddenly turns every head away. When they turn around, they see the figure of a familiar blond adolescent floating upright in their midst.
"Good lord," says Reed Richards. "Franklin!"
"I am sorry, Father," says Franklin Richards, "sorry for you all."
"Oh, my God," says Sue, her eyes beginning to cloud with tears. "Son, what has Onslaught done to you?"
"Do not cry for me, Mother," replies Franklin. "Onslaught has tried to corrupt me, but he has failed. I have seen his plans for the world, however, and I simply cannot accept them."
"What can we do, son?", says Reed.
"I'm sorry," Franklin replies. "There is nothing we can do."
"No," says Captain America. "I can't accept that."
"I know, Captain, and I am truly sorry," Franklin says, "for you must leave this place now."
"What?"
Without warning, Franklin raises a hand at Captain America, and he disappears.
"Franklin Richards, what are you doing?" shouts Sue. "You bring him back this instant."
"Believe me, Mother," he replies, "it is better that you did not stay here, for Onslaught's plans for our world offer nothing but death and destruction for all, and I would not do this unless I thought there was any other way."
Franklin waves a hand at Iron Man, and he disappears.
"I must take you away from this world..."
He waves a hand at Thor, and he disappears.
"...to a place where you will be safe from Onslaught's wrath..."
He waves a hand at the Fantastic Four, and they disappear.
"...I can only hope that by taking you away from here..."
He waves a hand at the Avengers, and one by one, they disappear.
"...I am somehow saving your lives."
He slowly raises his hand toward Bishop, Quicksilver, and the Reclamation Squad.
*Foolish child!*
A telekinetic blast of epic proportions sends Franklin flying through the air, shearing through the wing of Taki's fighter ship. As Franklin's limp body twists like a rag doll and crashes in the distance, Taki immediately grabs the metallic pieces of his control panel and morphs the falling jet into a lunar lander that touches the ground gently, away from the others that remain on the grass.
*Did you think I would let you pervert my plans?* shouts Onslaught. *Did you think I would not see your attempts to stop me?*
---
"What is he...oh, Lord," says the reporter. "They're just disappearing. That boy is...I don't know who he is, but...but he's just obliterated the Fantasti...Oh, I don't think I can go on..."
"Oh, God," Wanda whispers, her hand covering her quivering lower lip. "Oh, God, no..."
"Stay strong, sister," says Manchild. "We need you right now."
Wanda takes a deep breath and tries her best to regain her composure. "Okay," she says. "I'm ready."
"Blink, give me your hand," says Manchild. He takes her hand in his, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration. No memories, he thinks, just the powers. Only the powers. After a few seconds, he lets go. "Thank you," he says.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" says Blink. "I mean, Nate's beams are one thing, but those meters say Onslaught's TK powers are off the scale."
"Have faith, Blink," Manchild replies. "We have it in you."
---
*It is a shame that only the seven of you have survived long enough to witness this glorious occasion,* Onslaught says to the remaining figures on the ground, Aqua, Image, Kevlar, Perkolater, Quicksilver, Bishop and Taki.
"Not just seven, Onslaught!"
The giant armored figure looks up to see Cyclops, Phoenix, Iceman, Cannonball, Psylocke, Gambit and Archangel emerging from the silently hovering Blackbird, and all but Archangel landing gently on the ground.
*Well, well. It would appear my prodigal children have come to join me.*
"We're not your children, Onslaught," shouts Cyclops, "and we will fight you to the end if we have to."
*That shouldn't take long.*
---
They stand several feet behind the control panel, donning newly- created gray metallic uniforms, preparing to stop the worst before it begins.
"Is everybody ready?", asks Manchild.
"Yes," says the Scarlet Witch.
"I'm ready," says Blink.
"Say the word, Charlie," says Nate.
Manchild looks back at the monitors, the visage of Onslaught staring at him from half a dozen different angles. "A world away from this place, a good man gave his life so that my father could live. Now, that same man threatens to tear his world apart and rule atop its ashes. Apocalypse followed that same path of madness, Onslaught, burning our world for all eternity. I will not allow you that opportunity."
He raises his hand toward the control panel. "On my mark."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART THREE -- THE ARRIVAL
"You get what you pay for
- Counting Crows, "Raining in Baltimore"
* * *
He stands before a finely-chiseled history, splashed with images of triumph and loss, hope and despair. His heart once soared with the pride and reverence of royalty. All that is left is a mere stone shell of a man, recording the history that unfolds in the world he cannot see. Slowly and deliberately, he hammers the chisel against the wall, each clank as heavy as the burden he bears to the one that defeated him.
A strong hand quickly comes between the hammer and chisel. He looks toward a girl he believes to be a vision of his past -- her long black hair cascading down her back, her brown eyes as clear as the night sky, her stance speaking a timeless language of kings and queens. With only a look, she commands him to give up the tools his master has given him, and she holds the chisel against his forehead and raises the hammer high into the air.
He will never know the name of Monet St. Croix. As his stone body crumbles in front of her, however, he silently conveys his eternal gratitude to her for the long-awaited freedom of his soul.
"What is this?"
Her head turns toward a voice that cracks the very air through which it travels. It is a voice that would strike fear in the heart of any mortal, human or mutant.
"Who is foolish enough to come here and dare challenge me?"
If there is fear in the heart of M, however, she shows no outward sign of it.
"Neither fool nor challenger am I," M replies, "only a herald."
"Hmmmm. There is a certain strength about you, young one," the voice says as it approaches her. "There must be, for no mere mortal is capable of freeing Ozymandias from the prison in which I entombed him. Indeed, you are fit to survive the coming days."
"You are an arrogant one, En Sabah Nur," M says confidently to the giant standing before her.
"I am the arrogant one?", he replies. "You come into my lair uninvited and destroy my prisoner of two millenium, yet you have the gall to lecture ME on arrogance? Do you know not who I am?"
"I know exactly who you are, En Sabah Nur," returns M, "and I come to you with a message. You believe your time has come, but it has not. You believe that your way is the only way, but you are wrong. It takes more than strength to survive."
"You speak in riddles, girl," he says.
"Look upon these walls," M says as she gestures at the carvings around her, "and you will find one missing -- one whom you have not known, yet whom you have created; one whom you have not seen, yet who has born witness your world; one whose very soul dwarfs your Darwinian dogma, and whose spirit shall overcome your darkest hour. I assure you, your time is of a future far removed from this century, for you shall not see your black dawn so long as the one your kingdom created lives."
He raises a majestic brow at her words. "You give me pause, child," he says to her, "for how can I not know that which I have created? How can one have seen my kingdom, yet I have not seen him?"
M is silent.
"Very well," he says, "but tell me before you disappear, young one -- who is this being of great power about whom you speak? Where might I find the one who dares to challenge the will of Apocalypse?"
"When the time comes," she says, "you will know."
He stands motionless, watching her fly off into the star-filled night. "So I shall, herald," he says quietly. "So I shall."
---
There is a stirring within the girl called Threnody. As she sits upon a couch in a small house on the island of Key West, Florida, she watches the television pictures of the heroes of her childhood -- Captain America, Iron Man, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four -- disappearing into thin air. As they evaporate from sight, she can feel the pain of millions around the globe.
It is building inside of her. Literally.
A man named Sinister gave her an artificial dampener for the plasma burst that grows within her whenever she feels others' pain. It did not, however, give her peace. She wants nothing more than to end the pain and release the anger, but she holds herself back, else she destroy the very people around her -- people that can end this pain. So she remains on the couch, hiding her hurt from the world.
Nate Grey knows Threnody is hurting. He has seen the ghosts that troll inside her mind. He wants to help her, to end the pain that Sinister is now causing her. At the moment, however, he cannot. He has a job to do.
"What are we waiting for?", says Nate.
"We wait for Onslaught's attack," Manchild replies, his eyes locked upon the television screens in front of him, "and we stop him."
"Are ya sure I can't help, Charles?" asks Rogue.
"You'll have your chance, Mother," he replies. "Don't worry."
Manchild points his hand toward the monitors, staring intently upon the citadel Onslaught has erected in New York City's Central Park, a fortress almost familiar to his eyes. He watches as the armored giant stands before the small gathering of mutants and news media surrounding him.
"What can we do to stop him?", says Aqua, flanked by his Reclamation Squad teammates.
"I wish I could tell you, Ahmad," replies Bishop, himself surrounded by his fellow X-Men. "I was able to stop him once before, but now...I do not know."
*Record this moment for posterity, ye newsmen, for today ushers in a new era. Today begins the Era of the Onslaught! Behold my mighty hand!*
A deep rumbling sound slowly emerges from the citadel, and the ground shakes beneath the feet of the mutants left to watch Onslaught's fury. Kevlar quickly shields the others around her to protect them, but even she cannot help but back away from the bright blue wave slowly and violently inching toward them.
"NOW!"
A hole opens in sky above New York City. At the front of this hole stand three children -- children who childhoods were lost amidst the genetic tyranny and nuclear fires of another world; children who have somehow managed to escape to this world, finding new friends, new ideas, new families along the way; children who remember from whence they came, bonding together with one common goal in mind. Never again. Never.
As Manchild uses his borrowed power to keep the portal open and his own powers to hold Onslaught's telekinetic burst at bay, Blink struggles to use her spatial displacement power against the fury of Onslaught's wave, while Nate Grey counters Onslaught's attack with his own massive telekinetic powers. Behind them, the Scarlet Witch raises her hands at the scene, giving them luck, hope, and ultimately...
*What's this? My powers? Stopped?*
...success.
"Van Damme," says Perkolater. "That fizzled out worse than Shawn Bradley."
*Who dares!?* shouts a beligerent Onslaught. *Who dares challenge me?*
"We do!", shouts Nate, who immediately charges Onslaught's chest plate and knocks him backwards into the side of the citadel.
*Callow boy!* Onslaught immediately smacks Nate with the giant back of his hand, sending him reeling skyward.
"It's okay, Nathan," says Manchild, using his recently acquired telekinetic powers to hold Nate aloft. "I've got you."
"Look!" A news crew on the ground quickly points skyward, catching a glimpse of the portal and the men and women standing inside it. The remaining mutants on the ground look toward the portal, and a smile spreads across Aqua's face as he sees a boy he once knew hovering in mid-air.
"Knock 'em out, Little Man!" he shouts, thrusting his fist into the air.
"Yo, Chuck!" shouts Perkolater. "Represent, kid!"
Onslaught's psionic voice is but a whisper. *Manchild...*
"Have you learned nothing from my coming, Onslaught?", shouts a defiant Charles Xavier Lehnscherr. "You have witnessed the destruction of my world, yet you presume to use that knowledge to destroy your own? I will not allow it. This day, Onslaught, you shall fall."
*You have made a brave mistake in confronting me, Manchild,* says Onslaught, *one for which you shall...*
"CHARLES XAVIER!"
Onslaught freezes at the sound of the voice emerging from the portal. A magnetic bubble encases his body as he floats before Onslaught and points a finger at the helmet similar to the one he once donned years ago.
"I have watched you for more than two decades as you have tried to turn your dream into a reality. Now you stand on the verge of creating your own reality, sacrificing every life possible in your quest to change the world. I cannot and will not allow this. For the sake of the world, Charles Xavier -- FACE ME!"
Onslaught remains silent in the face of Magneto, then quickly disappears into thin air.
"What a wimp," says Rogue, flying out from the portal to join Magneto, Manchild and Nate.
"He could not do it," says Magneto. "I was right."
"Where did he go?", shouts Blink from the portal.
"He's on the astral plane," says Nate, "which means I have to take us there, and we have to take the fight to him."
"You need to relax, boy," replies Magneto. "He's weakened you too much. You're not strong enough to handle this."
*But he will be.*
Nate and Magneto turn to see an old man with a misshapen metallic arm flying toward them. Behind him is a striking black woman with short white hair, flying toward them as if on the wind.
"Cable?", says Nate. "Shit, man, what happened to your arm?"
"Never mind that," replies Cable. "Right now, you need a power boost. *Open your mind to me, Nate. I'm going to give you something you will need in this battle, something that has helped me live with my techno-organic virus, and something that will help you overcome what your power is doing to your body.*
Slowly, Nate feels a rush of memories and lessons overcome his mind, and as the lessons of the Askani flow from one mind to another, a psychic backlash washes over these doppelgangers, pulling them apart.
"Nate!", shouts Manchild, "are you okay?"
Slowly, Nate opens his eyes and sees a world he never knew before. "Yeah," he says. "I'm fine. Let's finish this fight. Blink?"
"I'm way ahead of you," she says, combining her powers with Nate's to open a portal directly into the astral plane. As she, Manchild, Nate, Rogue, Threnody and the Scarlet Witch enter the portal, Magneto turns to the crowd of media and mutants gathered on the ground.
"You all recognize me as one once hailed as humanity's greatest foe," he says. "My greatest hope now is too seek penance of you for the sins of my past. I can only hope that a victory over Onslaught will be enough."
He looks into the darkness of the portal, the strength of his will somehow overcoming his fear. "Forgive me, Charles," he whispers. "Forgive me." He enters the portal to the astral plane, and both open portals in the sky close behind him, leaving the sky blue and cloudless.
The news reporters on the ground find themselves asking questions of each other.
"Was that Magneto?"
"Who were those kids?"
"Wasn't that one woman an Avenger?"
"You think they'll beat that Onslaught?"
"They better." A video cameraman turns to see a smiling Pakistani stranger behind him, her arms folded, her shoulder leaning against the van. "I told them that I'd be pissed off if this town fell apart before I got a chance to see 'Rent.'"
Immediately, the gaggle surrounds her. "You know those kids? What can you tell us about them? Are they associated with Magneto?"
"Hey, hey, chill out for a minute, huh?" says Rasha. "Lemme just say this. The man you guys like to call Magneto is a changed man, and he's ready to prove that to you right here and now. And those kids you saw up there? They saw the apocalypse first-hand and lived to tell the tale. Now I've heard that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and if that's true...well, it oughta be one hell of a fight."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART FOUR -- THE SACRIFICE
"When all we wanted was the dream
- Sarah McLachlan, "Wait"
* * *
"Do not hide from me any further, Charles. I have not come here to fight you. I only want to talk."
He was once called Magneto, a powerful mutant who swore vengeance against humanity for the wrongs they committed in the name of genetic purity. Now, he is simply Erik, a man who must constantly wrestle the demons of his past life to survive in his present. Now, he sees those demons before him in the shape of a silent armored figure towering before him on this astral landscape. For the sake of a world he now believes unworthy of his presence, Erik will wrestle those demons one last time.
Erik closely examines his new surroundings. It is a scene of devastation -- of once tall buildings crumbled into piles of stones, of forests of trees burnt into fragile black husks sticking up form the ground, of billows of smog hovering in place without wind to sweep them away. All life passes through this place, yet there is no life within, save for the man and the monster standing in the heart of the battle ground.
"Ah, my friend, what has this world done to us?", Erik asks rhetorically. "Has the world twisted even your dream of co-existence and harmony to the point where its ultimate destruction is the only answer?"
The armored figure remains perfectly motionless. *Charles Xavier is dead, Magneto. There is only Onslaught.*
"So you say, but I know that Charles is still alive, as am I."
Erik approaches the figure slowly, staring deeply into its helmet. "I know the man that was generous enough to return my memories to me still exists in that armor -- armor that I once wore in defiance of the world. I know that the man who lashed out at me in anger on Avalon still regrets having done so."
The armored figure's head turns slightly at the words. "You gave me back my memories," Erik says, "but there was something you did not return to me. There was a part of me that you kept for yourself, whether you realize it or not -- an anger that once permeated my soul, a madness that consumed me in my quest to control the world and its people. Now that madness has become part of you, has it not?"
The armored figure is silent.
"Or perhaps," Erik continues, "it has always been part of me. Perhaps it is part of me right now. Perhaps you never left my mind from that day you shut it down on Avalon. Tell me, Charles, how much of your subconscious are you devoting to keeping me from being the man I was before? How much do you desire that I be 'safe' from the world? How much did you desire...that I be a father to my son?"
The eyes of the armored figure glow a dull green.
"Ah, you are living vicariously through me now, aren't you? Part of you stayed inside my mind, blocking me from my memories. Then you returned those memories, so that I could be the father that you never were to David Haller. Yet you continue to shield my mind from the evil essence that guided my hand for so many years.
"And now that evil is part of you, is it not? Now it is you who seek to shape the world into your image, to rid the world of prejudice and hypocrisy, to see your dream fulfilled at all costs. What price victory, my friend?"
*You are a fool, Magneto. Do you know how easily I could crush you?*
"Indeed, but you do not, because Onslaught needs me to live. You have let my dark side corrupt you beyond your ability to control your own actions, and you allowed Onslaught to be born. Now this Onslaught requires my mind to survive. Without me, there is no Onslaught, and Charles Xavier crumbles like the house built upon sandy ground.
"You know this is the truth, my friend, and I know that you are better than this. For my sake -- for the sake of the world, Charles -- let it go."f
*Charles Xavier is dead, Magneto. There is only Onslaught.*
Erik sighs. "Very well. Blink?"
The air and the ground crackle and explode at Erik's words, forcing the armored figure down atop the rubble. *ARRRRGH!!!!!*
As Onslaught stumbles, four new figures enter the playing field -- Clarice Ferguson, the spatial-displacing mutant known as Blink; Nate Grey, the immensely powerful telepath; Threnody, the beautiful but troubled proactive empath; and the nameless former X-Man known only as Rogue.
"Just 'cause Erik says he ain't gonna fight you," Rogue says, "doesn't mean we won't!"
Rogue takes flight and charges Onslaught, pounding his chest plate with all of her power. The dent she leaves, however, are quickly repaired.
*Ah, Magneto. Even you are subject to the duplicity that has torn apart our world. See how you claim not to fight, yet you hide from me plenty to do your fighting for you.*
"I have not lied to you, Charles," Erik replies. "I will not fight you."
*So be it, fool. Then you shall watch your loved ones be destroyed before your eyes.*
*Think again, asshole!* shouts Nate Grey psionically. He proceeds to launch a telekinetic assault on Onslaught that tosses him hundreds of yards backward.
"All right, guys," Nate shouts at the others. "Go get 'im!"
"Aren't you coming?" says Threnody.
"I can't," Nate replies. "I have my own situation to attend to."
As he watches Blink open a portal leading the women closer to the battle, Nate turns back to Erik, who now carries a trace of pain on his face.
"You okay, Magneto?" asks Nate.
"Do not worry about me, Nathan. My fate has always been sealed. Stand by me now, boy, for I need all your energy concentrated on keeping me here on the astral plane."
"Fine, but I still don't understand why."
"The earth's magnetic field has always been a source of nourishment for me, giving me life when even I thought myself good as dead. Here on the astral plane, there is no magnetic field, and thus if I slowly drain my mutant power away, I cannot not gain it back. If I can manage to stay here long enough, my power will fade, and I will discorporate."
"Thus destroying Onslaught."
"Exactly...nnnnngh."
Nate tries helps Erik to his feet, but Erik refuses. "There has to be some other way," says Nate.
"Do not burden yourself with this, Nathan. Unlike your world, this world will not mourn the death of Magneto, nor, sadly enough, will it weep for Charles Xavier. The pain I suffer through now is all too familiar to me..."
"But what happens when the two of you are gone?"
"Don't worry. I have already made provisions for this."
---
"Looka here, Professor. I know you're still in that giant hunka metal somewhere, but I ain't gonna pull my punches to break you out of it."
*You call these love taps punches, dear Rogue? You are woefully misguided if you think you can match....NNNNNNGH.*
Rogue's fist remains in mid-air as Onslaught throws his arms over his head in pain. "Tell me that was somebody," says Rogue.
"It was me," replies Blink. "I blinked out the ground behind me."
"Say what?" says Threnody.
"This is the astral plane, right? And Onslaught is a super-psi, right? He should be able to thrive in here. So if you attack the environmen--"
*You attack me. Very clever, young Blink -- you discovered this long before even the X-Men did.*
"I am an X-Man, you idiot," Blink fires back at him.
*Indeed, and Magneto has taught you well. But you also realize that because I am a psi, this plane is mine to control.*
A bright green burst of energy from Onslaught's eyes hurls all three women away from him. *AND CONTROL WILL BE MINE.*
A brick wall appears out of nowhere, blocking the backward path of Rogue, Blink and Threnody. Two of them land with a thud against the bricks, but Blink's concentration heightens at the attack. Her mind as focused as ever, she opens a portal in front of the wall, placing her directly behind Onslaught, and she turns just enough to land her metal- plated arm against helmet.
His concentration broken, the beam dissipates, and Rogue charges. "You're a lot better than I thought, Blink," she shouts. "Now let's put him on the ropes."
*ENOUGH!*
Onslaught's giant, swining left hand catches Rogue, then Blink in its palm, trapping them on the rubble beneath him.
*I do not have the time for this chicanery! I have a world to conquer, hypocrisy to erase! AND I WILL START WITH THE TWO OF YOU!*
A right hand raised high into the air prepares to smash its target into oblivion. Just as it begins its descent, however, it is blocked by a palm much smaller, yet no less powerful. Onslaught's helmet turns slowly toward the one who would stop him.
*So, Manchild, you finally emerge from the shadows.*
Manchild remains motionless in mid-air, holding the giant hand in place, glaring angrily at the armored figure before him.
*Let go of my hand, boy. You realize that you can only hope to defeat me. I am stronger now than ever before. I could destroy you all with just a thought.*
Manchild remains silent, his stare piercing.
*DAMMIT, BOY, I ORDERED YOU TO LET GO!*
"No."
A red helmet turns 180 degrees, and Onslaught sees another image of Manchild floating to his side.
"I will not bow to a mockery of my name -- to a mockery of YOUR name -- nor will I stand back and watch you destroy the dream you have given to the world."
*Foolish boy! The dream died the day that Onslaught was born!*
"I AM THE DREAM!" A magnetic burst forces Onslaught to his knees, freeing Blink and Rogue from his grip, though they barely move from the ground. "I am the product of your sacrifice two decades hence. I am the child born to fight for your dream, to bring hope in times of utter hopelessness. So long as the dreamer lives, the dream will never die."
*Well then, Saint Francis, you have learned much since your arrival, yet you obviously have been sheltered from reality. How can you not see the duplicity that surrounds you?*
"You would know about duplicity, wouldn't you?" Manchild replies.
*Of course, I would, for it is the sole reason why I have come to fix the world. I see duplicity all around me.* Onslaught points to Threnody, her tattered figure crawling slowly on her hands and knees. *Why, take this seemingly innocent young woman, who claims she would have saved you had she the chance. Do you honestly believe this product of Sinister cares whether any of us live or die? She is merely a camera for her twisted rescuer, who watches us all at this very moment, his will bending her every motion.*
"No," Threnody struggles. "It's...not...true..."
One by one, the metal attachments disappear from her forehead. *I believe he has seen enough.*
An explosion rips through the space Threnody occupies, spreading quickly across the astral plane and blanketing everything in its path. Manchild quickly shields himself, while Blink displaces the blast and creates a pocket for herself and Rogue. Onslaught stands unharmed as the blast subsides.
*Pathetic little thing, this Threnody, thinking only about her own survival, when she could have saved you from the twisted genetic experiments of Sinister. Am I not wrong, Manchild?*
"That's about enough, hear?" shouts Rogue. "I ain't gonna let you mess with mah boy's head like that!"
*And your dear mother. Perhaps you knew of her life in your world, boy, but in this world, you know nothing of what she once was -- terrorist, villain, murderer. Why has she sought to keep all of these things secret from you? Why must she hide the truth?*
Rogue slowly feels a hand reach inside her body, plucking away the hope Manchild's presense once gave her. A small drop of blood flows down her inner thigh. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
Manchild doubles over, knowing at once the pain Rogue feels. "What...what have you done?" he whispers.
*Merely exposing these people you call your friends for what hypocrites they are.*
"That wasn't hypocrisy!" shouts Blink. "That was murder!"
*Was it? Every year, thousands of women choose to do to themselves what I just did to Rogue. What makes any of them any less a murderer?*
"That's not the same," Blink replies. "You never gave her a choice. You never gave her a chance!" *Why, Clarice, I thought you liked it when I played dirty.*
"What?"
*You certainly enjoyed when Quicksilver scattered the Beast's atoms..."good'n'rough", I believe, was the term you used. I suppose the attraction to your...father figure...might have something to do with this. An attraction that, shall we say, is more than meets the eye?*
"We shall NOT say, Onslaught. I never--"
*Didn't you? Did you not once melt into his strong arms and harbor a desire to...give yourself to an unforgiving murderer?*
Blink searches for the words to reply to him, but she can only turn her head away in shame. "He...saved my life..."
*Do you see now, Manchild? Do you see how they all fall in the face of their own duplicity? Do you see how they willingly place their own agendas ahead of the greater good. Even the one who claimed to love you forever...*
An image of Monet St. Croix suddenly appears in front of Manchild. *Was it you that she loved, or merely what your touch could do to her?*
"No," Manchild whispers. He can feel the doubts rising inside of him. "Monet..."
*Tell me, boy, how does it feel to be used? How does it feel to see smiles on the faces of those who will stop at nothing to destroy you? How does it...it...*
He lifts his right arm and stares down at his hand, which slowly fades in and out of existence.
*That will be enough, young Clarice.*
"Sorry, mister, but that's not me."
*What do you...no...no...*
---
"No." Erik grimaces as he barely balances himself on all fours, his determination the only thing preventing him from screaming. "Charles...This...isn't right..."
"I don't know if I can watch this anymore, Magneto," says Nate. "I want a shot at him."
Erik remains defiant through the pain that wracks his body. "This IS your shot at him, Nathan. Can you not see this? Do not engage him in a battle you might lose when this is a war we can win. Don't... let go..."
*That's right boy. Keep your grip on him firm.*
Nate looks over his shoulder at the giant armored figure that suddenly materializes behind him.
*Even if means this man will fade into nothing, you must use all of your power to keep this shell of a man on the astral plane. Your plans have failed, Magnus. Prepare to watch your world die!*
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART FIVE -- COME THE DAWN
"Faith has been broken
- The Rolling Stones, "Wild Horses"
* * *
"Roll back the tape a bit...a little more...right there."
Ahmad Parker stands in the news truck, leaning over the men sitting at the control panel, looking at the screens in front of him. On the right is the still frame of Manchild captured in camera just moments earlier. On the left, a picture of happier times -- Image propping a five-year-old boy up in her arms, talking to reporters about the birth of the Reclamation.
"That's him, Trish," says Ahmad. "That's your Manchild."
Reporter Trish Tilby stands next to Ahmad and stares at the video monitors in disbelief. "Good God, Ahmad," she says. "This video is barely eight weeks old. What happened to that boy?"
"Ever heard of a guy named Mr. Sinister?"
"No, can't say that I have."
"Well, he's one slick bastard. He makes some of the villains this town has seen look like Amateur Night at the Apollo. He was the one that did this to Little Man -- coulda done worse if Sleepy wasn't there."
"Y'know I'm really sorry to hear about him, Ahmad."
"Be sorry about this, Trish -- Breakdown was involved in Little Man's capture."
"Sleepy's brother?"
"Mmm-hm. Makes one hell of a story, doesn't it?"
"Only if Manchild wins this fight today, and judging by the reactions of all these telepaths out here--"
The director pulls his headset off and drops it on the control panel. "Jesus Christ, Trish," he says, "how can you stand there and side with these muties when they're out there destroying the city?"
Trish fumes. "In case you hadn't noticed, Jack, some of those 'muties' just stopped the creature that killed both the Fantastic Four AND the Avengers, and they're God-knows-where right now trying to put a stop to this Onslaught madness! And they're just KIDS, for God's sake. Can't you accept that maybe some mutants aren't out to destroy humanity?"
"Show me one mutant who ISN'T out to kill us all."
Ahmad clears his throat.
"Oh," the director says sheepishly, "but you're different, Aqua. I mean, you're an African-American activist."
"Oh, now, THERE'S a fun double-standard."
Everyone turns toward the direction Rasha's voice. She leans her shoulder against the doorway of the truck and grins. "Can I be a mutant, too? I'd really like to be known as a 'gay rights activist.'"
"You guys're missing the point," the director continues. "Guys like the Fantastic Four and the Avengers -- they're the good guys. They're the ones who fight for all of us."
"Y'know," Ahmad says, "I've always wondered what the big difference was between mutants and guys like the Fantastic Four. We all got powers, right? How come they got fan clubs and we get pot shots from Graydon Creed and his genetic bullshit posse?"
"You guys don't get pot shots, though."
"No, we get buckshots from so-called 'renegade' Friends of Humanity bitches. Creed can't come down on us in public, or every other black leader in this country comes down on him, and he dips in the polls."
"Because the Reclamation Squad is black," says Trish.
"Damn right, so he finds some no-skills gunman to take us out, while he and his campaign people front. We all got powers here. Why's it so important WHERE we got those powers if we're doing something good with 'em? If Reed Richards were a mutant, would we have been all on his dick, or would we have tried to kill him?"
The director looks back at Ahmad blankly, unable to respond.
"Thought so."
"All right, enough philosophy," says Trish. "I'm on the air in two minutes. Can you tell me Manchild's name, Ahmad?"
"Don't know if I should, Trish."
"People are gonna want to know, Ahmad. It'll get out sooner or later, and we already heard Perkolater call him Chuck, so if you can give me anything els--"
"Pierce," interrupts a desperate Rasha, "Chuck Pierce. And if I remember correctly, he prefers Charles..."
---
"Charles, why are you doing this?"
Somewhere on the astral plane...
*Do you have to ask, Magneto? Why did you force YOUR will upon others? How many times did you live for the hatred and destruction you caused? You who wanted to see me broken! Who is broken now, Magneto? There is only one way, one truth, one path for the world to follow. I will give them that path...once and for all.*
A world away, yet only three months ago, Nate Grey stood between two powerful and polarized adversaries -- one a centuries-old, maniacal Darwinist who brought the world to its knees, the other a rebel who fought his opponent with little more than a dream as his weapon. A world away, their battle ended in nuclear annihilation. As Nate stands once again between a weakened Magneto and a nigh-omnipotent foe, he cannot help but wonder if he is reliving this moment again.
"You won't give them anything, Onslaught," says Nate, his brave face masking his fears for this new world he has discovered. "You're just another in a long line of assholes to stubborn to see a better way."
*I AM a better way, boy.*
"Must be why you're starting to fade, then, huh?"
*You dare toy with me? Do you know what I can do to you?*
"You don't fool me, Xavier. You didn't then, and you sure as hell don't now. You want Magneto? You have to get through me."
The giant armored figure pauses for a moment to admire the power of a boy he once saw as a reluctant threat to the world. *Fascinating. You have erected an impressive mental barrier around Magneto -- one that I cannot yet breach.*
"And why is it so important that I know this?"
*I said "yet," boy.*
Onslaught raises a half-closed fist, and Nate watches as the figure of a young woman he once saved appears within its fingers. The determination on Nate's face slowly melts away.
"Oh, God...Thren..."
*You should appreciate the irony of this moment, whelp. After all, it was you who taught me how to move objects to and from this astral plane. How else could this broken doll appear in my hand out of thin air? Were it not for your awesome telepathic powers, I could easily take all of you from this place and begin the world anew.*
Nate does not hear a word. He can only see Threnody weakly lift her chin from her chest, long black strands of hair dangling in front of eyes that beg him to help her.
*You can save her, you know. All you need to do is divert a fraction of your power away from Magneto and pull her out of my hand. You can see how she wants you to save her.*
Nate takes a moment to look into Threnody's eyes, and to see her limp body dangling in Onslaught's grasp. He knows instantly that he has lost her. There is only the situation and how it must be handled. He must hold is psychic grip on Magneto.
"Forgive me, Thren," he says, his head bowed in shame.
"I already have." Her whisper is barely audible. "Thank you."
Nate does not look back at her. He cannot bear to watch as Onslaught slowly peels layer after layer of Threnody's mind away. He cannot watch as her body tenses and twitches painfully in Onslaught's grasp, and as she finally lets herself relax, the smallest trace of a smile form on her lips. Nate's fist tightens, his psionic shield growing stronger, a tiny stream of red running from his ear.
Erik Magnus Lehnscherr looks up from his prone position at the giant before him. It stares blankly at the dead woman's body in its palm. "Tell me, Charles," Erik says, "How does it feel to take another life? Do you feel any joy in that victory? Is there any pride in that power? Perhaps now you understand what might have driven me mad. It was not merely a mutant power, nor a trauma of my earlier life.
"No, my friend, it was the emptiness of taking willingly another man's life. It was the knowledge of the monster I had become, and how it drove the rest of the world away. I was convinced my fate was sealed. Now, you understand, and both of our fates have been sealed."
*NO!* Onslaught throws his hand high into the air and loses his grip on Threnody's body, which spirals away into the astral sky. *I WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS! YOU WILL NOT DEFEAT ME LIKE THIS! RETURN, MAGNETO, TO THE EARTH THAT NOURISHES YOU!*
The attack begins. Nate Grey's head begins its all-too-familiar pounding and buzzing as he feels the intruder try to break his shield over the man somehow connected to Onslaught. He must allow this one man to die to save untold millions from the tyranny of another. There is no other way. So he fights the pain. He fights through the loss of his friends, the loss of his world, the loss of nearly everything he has ever known. He will not lose again.
*Very well, Grey. If you will not cede, you will PERISH!*
The eyes inside the helmet glow a neon green, quickly firing a concentrated burst of psionic energy toward the heart of Nate Grey. Onslaught fully expects to watch the adolescent's battered body fly off into the distance. He feels nothing but shock, therefore, when the energy blast bounces off an invisible wall in front of Nate and strikes him in the chest.
Onslaught slides for what seems like miles on his back. As he finally comes to a stop, his shock increases exponentially at the next sight he sees -- Manchild standing before him in a suit of armor, a sword in his hand, a determined look in his eyes.
*You...you stopped my attack...found psionic armor...but that's...that's impossible...*
"No, Xavier," says a female voice, and a figure steps out of the shadows, her silver uniform reflecting the light shining on Manchild's armor. "It is merely improbable, and I'm very good at that."
*You! YOU stopped my attack!*
"There are some things," Wanda Maximoff replies, "that even pure psionic power cannot withstand."
*I WILL SHOW YOU POWER, WITCH!*
Onslaught fires another psionic blast from his eyes, only to have it blocked by Manchild's sword.
"You made the mistake of letting me touch you, Onslaught," says Manchild. "How else were we able to obtain the plans to build this armor, or shape this sword from those same plans? Now you are weakening. Your host and your nexus both fight you, and now, so do I."
*No!* The armored figure rises defiantly to its feet. *I cannot accept this! You are an anomaly, a product of timeline that never happened! You have no parallel in this world!*
Manchild strikes Onslaught's armor, leaving a gash on the bright red chestplate. "Foolish monster! Do you think I did not see that you have taken the life of my counterpart in this world? Yet I still live. I live for him, for what he may have been without you, and that flame shall never die! NEVER!"
---
"Oh, God...Erik...oh, God..."
"Shhhh. Don't cry, Rogue. I am sorry for what he has done to you, for what I have done...nnnngh!"
"Erik...what's happening?"
"Be calm, Rogue. I am doing this for the sake of the world, so that the dark spirits that lived in Magneto will be extinguished once and for all."
"Oh, Lord, Erik....you're discorporating...just like on Asteroid M...I can't...not you, too..."
"Shhhhh, don't talk, dear Rogue...just listen. I have spent my entire life fighting in the name of vengeance...so many who have died because of me...but young Charles...*koff*...in such a short time...has shown me...redemption...*koff*"
"Don't go...oh, Erik, don't..."
"Not yet...I must...finish...Rogue, watch over Charles for me. Let him be...the son we could not have. He needs you...do not let him suffer...*koff*...the same way I have...promise me..."
"Ah promise, Erik...Ah...Ah love you."
"Were I only worthy...Rogue...move on when I am gone...be there for Charles...all I ask....You have always been...strong...be strong now...for the both of us."
Nate feels a lump rise in his throat as he watches the scene in front of him -- a once strong-willed mutant leader lying on his back, his body falling apart; the woman who has come to love him kneeling at his side, holding his hand, holding back her pain, but none of her tears.
"What's going to happen, Nate?" Clarice Ferguson stands behind Nate and watches with him. "What's going to happen to us after he's gone?"
"I don't know, Blink," Nate replies. "I don't know." He can feel her take his hand into hers, and he squeezes tightly, hoping to find some comfort in their loss.
"It's working, Magneto," says Nate. "Onslaught's weakening. Charles is winning."
"Charles," whispers Erik, "my son..."
---
"You speak of ridding the world of hypocrisy and self-interest, Onslaught, yet you cannot see the reason for your obsession. The hypocrite is YOU! YOU are the duplicitous monster!"
The giant armored figure stumbles backwards at each attack. Manchild rises into the air, his psionic armor protecting him, his sword swinging furiously at the villain who called himself Onslaught.
"You talk of a world filled with personal agendas and hypocrisy," Manchild shouts. "Look at YOUR hypocrisy, Onslaught. What makes your quest for world domination any less a personal agenda than anyone else's?"
*No! It's not...true...*
"You speak of dreams and hopes, of lies and truths, and you claim there can be only ONE truth, ONE dream, ONE hope for the world. You are a fool! Do you honestly expect the world to bow to your will? How self-righteous are you that you believe your singular dream, your sole perception of truth, is more important than the dreams of FIVE BILLION PEOPLE!? Are you so blinded by self-righteousness and ego that you put yourself and your world view so far ahead of EVERY OTHER LIFE ON THIS PLANET!?"
*No...I...I...*
"You are nothing more than the power-hungry dictatorial madman that destroyed my world. I cannot let you destroy another." Onslaught falls to the ground, his hand raised to block the unblockable. "My only regret is that I must use this sword against you."
*You claim to fight for the greater good, do you not?*
"No matter, for destruction of life at any cost is still destruction, so if I must destroy one last time, I say to you now -- THIS MADNESS ENDS!"
As Manchild raises his sword, he takes one last instant to reach out for the mind of another.
*I'm so sorry, daddy.*
*All has long been forgiven, Charles. You have given me my penance. Thank you for changing my life.*
With that, Manchild plunges his sword deep into Onslaught's chest.
---
"Look out!"
The crowd turns away from the light. It can only hear the citadel rumbles before them, its foundation rising from the ground and imploding upon itself violently. When it is all finished, a circular wave of energy flies out from the disappearing citadel, knocking over people in its path, rattling the news vans, rustling the trees, weakening at every contact until it finally dissipates at the edges of Central Park.
One by one, the stunned, silent faces in the crowd turn toward the place where the citadel was, only to find any and all traces of it gone. All that remains is Manchild kneeling in mid-air, the battered body of Professor Charles Xavier floating at his knees.
"I'm...sorry...Charles...forgive me..."
"Shhhh, rest easy, Mr. Xavier."
"I...never meant...for this...only wanted...you...to have a father...like David...never did..."
"I know, Mr. Xavier. I know."
Xavier weakly takes Manchild's hand. "Never f-forget...never forget the...dream..." And as the professor's eyes close, Manchild bows his head and says a silent prayer, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he once again became a murderer under the guise of saving the world.
A doleful silence blankets the crowd, and as Manchild looks up, he sees faces both human and mutant, both familiar and unfamiliar to him. All eyes stare at him, wait for him to do something, anything. He rises from his knees to face them, the professor's words echoing through his mind. Never forget. Never...
"Look upon your work, humanity, and despair, for this is what we have done to a great man. A man whose dream of a better world shined brighter than all of us, yet we were too busy turning away from its light to really see it.
"Why do we do this? Why do we insist on living through this mediocrity, when we could be so much more than this? Why do we suffer through a daily diet of hatred and fear, when there is so much more we could offer to the world?
"I stand before you here as an outsider, someone you see as different from all of you. Am I not just as human as you are? Am I not capable of knowing love or beauty or danger? Am I merely to be taken for granted and ignored, or to be treated with contempt and scorn? Do you expect any of us to simply lie down and accept the oppressive future you offer us?
"Why have these good men been destroyed? What corrupted their spirits so much that they would do these things? Some people might say it was a madness, probably a result of his mutant power. And I say those people: did you ever talk with Charles Xavier? Did you ever take the time to learn who Erik Lehnscherr is? Did you ever try to look past your own fears and for once try to understand them? If you did, you might discover that these mutant powers so few of us possess make us no less human than anyone else.
"We live in a world where one man is justified in killing another for the simple fact that he is different. We live in a world bent on separating one group of people from another, simply because of paranoia and prejudice. We cannot accept a world like this. We cannot let the powers that be turn us against each other, when we could stand and fight against our real enemies, the ones that seek nothing but destruction. They would not think twice about destroying our world and its people, should that destruction line their pockets with our riches. I ask you, my friends, why do we let them defeat us time and time again? Why..."
He closes his eyes and lowers his head, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "This man who has died before your eyes, he dreamed of a world where there was no distinction between human and mutant. For there is none. We are all human, and we all have different abilities, different ideas, different goals, different dreams. You have all looked up to heroes in the past. We would be those heroes for you, if you would allow us the privilege. We could be your heroes...if you would allow us..."
His voice trails, and he lowers his head into his hands, unable to prevent himself from sobbing in front of the world. There before him in the park, the crowd remains silent, stunned, almost frozen in time.
Suddenly, Cyclops and Phoenix feel something brushing against their legs, struggling to reach the front of the crowd. They look down and find a group of small children pushing their way forward, one by one taking their place at the front of the crowd. Aqua and Image turn to look at the group, only to find more children moving around them, forcing the entire crowd to take a step back. They flow toward the front of the gathering and look up at this young man in the sky, crying unabashedly. There is no fear in their hearts, no hatred in their minds. There is only wonder. There is only this man before them, crying like a child. Just like them.
Aqua is the first to begin clapping. Image, Perkolater and Taki quickly follow suit, as do the children, then the X-Men, then the reporters, then the people surrounding them, and those surrounding them, until finally, all of Central Park roars for this Manchild in their sky. His eyes scan the crowd, then look down at the children below. He smiles weakly but bravely for them, and they all smile back, awed by his presence.
Manchild does not turn to see the portal opening behind him. He does not turn around until he feels a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he looks back to see his friends standing behind him -- Rogue, Nate, Clarice and Wanda.
"He's gone, isn't he?"
"Ah know, baby," says Rogue. "It's gonna be okay."
Mother and son hug each other tightly, and Clarice and Nate join their embrace. Wanda stands in the background and smiles, quickly brushing a tear away before it can form. She turns her head to look at the cheering crowd below, eventually spotting her brother, who stands between the X-Men and the Reclamation Squad. He looks at her sternly, his arms folded.
"Mansion," she mouths to him. He nods and quickly zooms through the crowd.
"C'mon, baby," Rogue says to Manchild, "let's get out of here."
Wanda whispers something in Clarice's ear, and the young mutant opens another portal into a giant computer room. As they prepare to leave, Manchild looks back at the people that took him in when he first came to this world. Aqua raises a fist in the air as a salute, shooting a thick stream of water high into the sky, luring a smile out of the boy and a roar out of the crowd. Image holds onto her man's other arm, smiling proudly at her Little Man and his friends.
One by one, they walk through the portal to another place, away from the crowds, away from the eyes of the world. As they leave, one of the children turns back to her mother. "Mommy, was that Superman?"
The woman seems taken aback by the question. Then she looks up in the sky and thinks about all she has just seen, and suddenly, she sees it differently.
"Maybe it was, sweetie. Maybe it was..."
---
"And with that, Manchild and his friends disappeared into the unknown. We don't know if we'll ever see any of them again, but as we pick up the pieces from the events of this day, we owe this team of young men and women our undying gratitude for saving us in our time of need.
"And maybe we owe it to ourselves to think twice about those who live with us, about those who may have powers greater than us, and maybe we can all learn that it is not what we are on the outside that is important, but who we are inside, and what we can give back to the world. Maybe we can all learn that the best way to look at the world is through the eyes of a child."
"Though we have lost many heroes on this day, we have gained a new generation, one that we hope will represent all for which their predecessors stood. As for Charles Pierce, wherever he is tonight, this reporter hopes someone is taking good care of him. He deserves it."
"This is Trish Tilby reporting for NBC News, New York City."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
************************************************************************
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ARC THE FOURTH -- THE AFTERMATH
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PART ONE - PROVISIONS
"Time for me to throw away this paper knife
-The Police, "Omega Man"
* * *
The next day.
Nate Grey's eyes slowly come into focus, and he slowly takes in his surroundings. He is lying in a hospital bed in what appears to be a medical ward of some kind. It's not altogether unpleasant -- a soft light shines through the thin, billowing curtains on his left, a dark brown oak paneling covers the walls, and freshly potted plants dot the room, as do various electronic medical devices. He looks to his left to see another patient with him. Her bed is level, unlike his, and she sleeps a bit uneasily on her side.
"Rogue?"
"I wouldn't wake her just yet, Master Nathan," replies a soft, slightly British voice in the doorway. "She has been through a rather traumatic experience."
"Where am I?" says Nate. "Who are you?"
"Welcome to the Avengers' Mansion, Master Nathan," the voice replies. Nate turns to see a short, well-dressed butler walk into the room. "My name is Jarvis, at your service, sir. Ms. Maximoff thought it best if the two of you stayed here for a while, so that we could monitor your medical progress."
Nate puts his hand to his head, trying to reach out toward the butler's mind. "My...my powers..."
"Oh, I hope you don't mind, sir," says Jarvis, "but we've suppressed them for the time being. We didn't want you to use your powers to remove your IV, should your surroundings upset you."
Nate looks down at his left arm and notices the needle in his skin. "I assure you that it's just a precaution, sir," continues Jarvis, looking over one of the montiors. "Others have informed me that your power seems to take a lot out of you, so we didn't want your condition to worsen."
A young woman dressed in baggy jeans and a black T-shirt walks into the room. "Is it okay to come in?"
"If the patients have no objection...Miss Ahuja, is it?"
"Please, just call me Rasha." She pulls up a chair and sits down between the two beds turning to Nate. "Hey, big guy, how ya feelin'?"
"Hungry as hell, actually."
"Well, I think we can remedy that for you," says Jarvis. "If you would excuse me, I shall retire to the kitchen to prepare something for Master Nathan."
"No prob, Jarvis," says Rasha. "Thanks for everything."
"'Tis my pleasure, madam. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to call me."
The butler leaves Rasha and Nate alone. They speak softly, so as not to disturb Rogue's sleep. "Charles asked me to come down here and keep you guys company for a few," says Rasha. "You mind?"
"I guess not."
"I bet it feels weird not having any powers, huh?"
"Kind of unnerving, actually. I mean, I have no way of verifying anything that anyone is saying. How do I know he's telling the truth? That this is that Avengers place or whatever?"
Rasha smiles. "You have a real hard time trusting people, don't you?"
"Huh?"
"Charles told me the world you guys came from was one cold and horrible place, but it must have dealt you an even worse hand for you to be so suspicious of everybody."
"Yeah, I guess. Everyone I ever trusted got killed or ended up betraying me. Sometimes it feels like the only person I can trust is myself. Bet that's pretty hard to imagine for you, huh?"
"Not really. I've been through my share of betrayals."
"Ever have someone tell you that you were engineered in a laboratory specifically to be a weapon?"
Rasha cocks an eyebrow at Nate. "Maybe we shouldn't go there. I mean, all that's gone now. You're here, you're alive, and you've got friends here. That's what counts, right?"
"Yeah." Nate looks away. "Rasha?"
"Yeah?"
"I miss Threnody."
Rasha sighs and takes his hand in hers. "I know. I miss Erik, too. We all do. But we'll be okay."
---
The kitchen of the Avengers' Mansion is more crowded than usual today. As Jarvis and his automated help prepares a meal for Nate, a small group sits at the table, looking over the day's newspapers. On the left, Aqua and Image sit together, with Perkolater next to them. On the right are Blink, Taki, Kevlar and the Scarlet Witch. In the middle of it sits the young man on whom everyone focuses.
"I'm not sure I understand all of this," says Manchild as his eyes scan one headline after another. "Two good men died as a result of my actions. Why is everybody calling me a hero?"
"Because you are, kid," replies Aqua, sitting next to him. "You and your team here kept New York from getting torn apart, not to mention you called out the entire world on its prejudices, and the news people got it on tape."
"And that's only part of it," says Wanda. "When Franklin took all of those heroes away, you stepped in and filled a huge void. That means something to the people of this city, to the people of the world."
"I only did what I thought was right," says Manchild.
"And they agreed with you," replies Blink. "That's why you're being hailed as a hero."
"Face it, Charlie," says Taki, "you the man, now."
"Yeah, no question, Chuck," says Perkolater.
"Thank you," Manchild replies. "Thank you. God only knows where I would be without you right now."
"I still can't believe they're all gone," says Kevlar. "The Fantastic Four, Captain America, Thor, Iron Man, almost all of the Avengers. I remember back when I was with X-Factor, and we all aspired to be just like them."
"That doesn't mean we should stop, should it?"
Few naked eyes could have seen him enter the room. That is merely a testament to his mutant power.
"Are we not still heroes? Do we not have a continuing obligation to the people of this world?"
Manchild looks up at the voice, freezing at the sight of its owner. He is flooded with memories, this time all his own, yet he fights the urge to jump from his chair and embrace the man before him.
"I'm sorry, Charles," says Pietro Maximoff. "In the midst of all this chaos, we have not had the chance to meet...Is something the matter?"
Manchild stands up from his chair slowly to greet the man called Quicksilver. "Why, Pietro," says Wanda, "don't you recognize your baby brother?"
"What?" replies Pietro as Manchild walks slowly toward him and holds out his gloved hand.
"Yeah, once removed, yo," quips Perkolater. "You the man that saved Chuck's--"
"Hush up, Perk," interrupts Image. "Let Charles say it."
"Am I missing something?" Quicksilver says to Manchild.
"We have...much to discuss, Pietro," says Manchild, "and I promise not to take up much of your time."
The older sibling cocks his brow at the younger. "We'll talk later. Wanda, this telegram came for us today. Do you know what this is about?"
Quicksilver zips the telegram over to Wanda, who reads it to herself. "Oh, my."
"What?"
"It appears to have something to do with...our father."
"Great," says Quicksilver, who searches for the pressure points in his forehead. "I thought we were finally done with this."
"We will be," Wanda replies. "It seems to have something to do with a...last will and testament. And it requests the presence of one Charles X. Lehnscherr."
"Me?" says Manchild.
---
Switzerland. Two hours later.
A banker in a three piece suit and spectacles walks over to the small group assembled in his office -- Charles Xavier Lehnscherr, Clarice Ferguson, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, and Ahmad Parker -- and hands an envelope to Charles.
"This is most unorthodox for us," he says with a slightly German accent, "but he asked that you read this letter."
Charles nods, silently taking the envelope in his hand and opening it. He pulls out the letter and reads it softly to everyone in the room.
"I, Erik Magnus Lehnscherr, being of sound mind and body, hereby bequeath the sum of my accounts at the institution that bears this letter to one Charles X. Lehnscherr, with all rights given herewith..."
"You will forgive me for intruding, sir," says the banker, "but the world papers officially identified you as Charles Pierce, so it is quite a bit of a shock for us to see you here."
"I understand," replies Charles. "If you contact a man named Sean Cassidy at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Massachusetts, he should be able to confirm my identity."
"Actually, we already have at Mr. Lehnscherr's request, so everything has been cleared. You are today one very lucky young man."
"How so?"
"Ah, he never told you, did he? Understandable. You see, Mr. Lehnscherr kept his vast reserves here. The security we offered him made this institution highly attractive to him, so he used it often."
"How much money are we talking about here, sir?" asks Pietro impatiently.
"Well, according to our current exchange rates, it would appear our young friend has inherited approximately 913 million American dollars."
"Holy..." says Ahmad.
"My God," says Pietro.
"That's a lot, isn't it?" says Clarice.
"Indeed it is, madchen," replies the banker. "That is why I say your friend is very lucky."
"Perhaps to you, sir," Charles says, "but in all honesty, I would rather that I could have saved the lives lost yesterday."
"So would we, Charles," says Ahmad, "but your dad would have wanted you to keep goin' after he was gone. That's probably why he gave you this."
"But why only me? Why not his other children? His REAL children, no less?"
"There are things about our father, Charles," a bristling Pietro replies, "that we will never understand."
"I think it's because you were there for him," says Wanda. "After all he did to us over the years, he could never come to terms with the fact that we were his children. Maybe you did something to change his perspective on fatherhood."
Charles sighs. "Maybe. I still miss my father, though."
"I know, Charles," says Clarice. "I miss him, too."
"You do realize, young man," the banker says, "that this makes you one of the richest men in the world right now. What do you plan to do with this gift?"
Charles takes a deep breath, pondering the question presented to him -- what is he going to do? There must be some way to make the world a better place with the gift just given to him.
"Wanda," he says, "Kevlar said earlier that she and her friends had aspired to be like the other heroes that were taken away from us. You're one of those heroes. Perhaps you could tell me a little bit more about them?"
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PART TWO - CURTAIN CALL
"Oh, dear Dad
- Pearl Jam, "Release"
* * *
Three days later.
The news vans and reporters are out in full force today, sifting through the crowd, looking for quotes and sound bites for today's big story.
"When I saw what that Onslaught did to the Fantastic Four, I thought we were all done for, but when I saw how he reacted to Manchild, it sorta let me know the world was gonna be okay."
"I still can't believe we lost Reed and Sue, but we can't say we've lost everything."
"Just the other day I was wearing a Creed for President button. Then I realized he didn't have anything else on his platform except bigotry. Where would that have left us?"
"I just think he's sooooo cute!"
"I actually used to babysit Little Man when he was with Aqua and Image. He was such a sweetheart then, too."
"He's what we need right now. We've lost so much. We need heroes right now."
The sign out front once read "Four Freedoms Plaza." Now it reads "The Richards-Rogers Building," in memory of the heroes of days past. The giant numbers that one adorned the top of its building have been replaced by the greek letter omega. Beneath one of those letters, on the same face as the building's front entrance, is a raised horizontal bar. On the left of the bar is the logo of the Fantastic Four, while on the right is the logo of the Avengers. The phrase "We Shall Never Forget You" rests between them.
One by one, the heroes walk out the front door -- Aqua, Image, Kevlar, Perkolater, Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, Rogue, Blink and Nate Grey. Taki follows behind them in a custom-built wheelchair. They are joined by businessmen and political dignitaries. Manchild is the last to exit the building, and the crowd cheers as they catch sight of him. He takes a moment to acknowledge them as he steps forward to the podium at the front of the plaza, his hand slowly quieting the crowd.
"Yo, Chuck," blurts out Perkolater, "show 'em what time it is." Manchild smiles back at his former classmate, then turns back to the crowd.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming out here today, to show your support for us and what we are about to do. We have lost a lot in the past few days, and though we cannot truly replace the heroes you have known, we hope we can serve you the same selfless way they did over the years.
"The omega symbol you now see above traditionally represents and ending, perhaps the end of an era for most of you. I assure you, though, that this is not an ending, but a new beginning for all of us. It has always been my hope that we could live in a world where we are free from the bounds of prejudice and fear. By serving you all in your times of crisis, we hope to end the fear that exists between all humans, so that we may not hate each other for our differences, but rather learn from each other what we all can bring to our world.
"People of New York, people of the world, I present to you my teammates, Team Omega -- Rogue, Quicksilver, The Scarlet Witch, Blink, Thought, our technical operations manager Takeshi Matsuya, and our publicity coordinator Rasha Ahuja. As you can see, some of us here are still pretty young, and we have a lot to learn about this world. We hope you can help us as much as we can help you. Thank you all."
Manchild recognizes the applause from the crowd and turns back to the group behind him, shaking hands with the mayor and the governor of New York. He then turns to a man in a gray pinstripe suit and sunglasses.
"Thank you so much for all your help, Mister Murdock. We really appreciate it."
"Not a problem, Charles. If you ever need any help with your estate or your finances, don't hesitate to give me a call."
"So tell me, Little Man," says Aqua as he walks up to Manchild, "how does it feel to have such a huge fan club?"
"Kind of like everyone's watching me. I don't know if I can get used to that, Uncle Aq."
"Don't sweat it, Chuck," says Perkolater. "Just keep on doin' the right thing, and you'll be straighter than 6:00."
"Thanks, Rayquan," says Manchild. "What about you? You're part of a new team now, too."
"Oh, we'll keep Perk in line," says Aqua. "We've already talked about him getting a high school diploma and going to college after that. He's ready to work, so all we gotta do is kick his ass to keep him on the regimen."
Rayquan jokingly shakes his head. "Ol' Aq here is makin' Frosty sound like a fairy princess, man. Shit's gonna be mad intense."
"You'll be just fine, Rayquan. You guys take care of yourselves out here."
Manchild steps toward Aqua to hug him, but Aqua steps back. "What is that, a goodbye? Forget that, Little Man. We'll be visitin' here a LOT, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"Well, if YOU won't hug him..." Image steps forward, readily accepting Manchild's embrace. "It's a shame Sleepy isn't here to see this. He'd be ready to party with this crowd."
"I know, Aunt Monica," says Manchild. "I miss him, too. We've lost so much in the last week, and yet that gives us all even more responsibility than ever to make this world a better place."
"That's why we do it, Chuck," replies Perkolater. "Hell, I don't even wanna think about where this world would be if we weren't around."
"Come, Charles," says Quicksilver. "We have much to do."
"Yes, sir," Manchild replies, looking back at the new team assembled before him, his focus turning to the one teammate that means the most to him.
"Will you be okay, Mother?"
"Don't worry, Charles. Ah'll make it through. I got to see mah baby grow up after all."
They embrace, and she kisses him lovingly on the forehead. As they hug, Manchild turns to another teammate.
"Nathan...Thought, would you do the honors?"
"You bet." Thought immediately takes hold of each of the members of Team Omega and telekinetically lifts them to the top of the building. The crowd cheers as they rise into the sky.
"Call me, guys," Manchild shouts back at the Reclamation Squad.
"Like you have to ask," replies a smiling Aqua. As Perkolater watches the team rise into the sky, he raises his arms in the air, turns his hands outward and bends his elbows, a salute to a new team of heroes sworn to protect the world.
"This is gonna be cool," says Taki.
"It's gonna be a lot of work, too," says Wanda, "especially for you -- you have to finish your schooling, too."
"No sweat," Taki replies. "Considering my mutant power, I should have plenty of time to study *and* work."
As they land on the roof, Manchild looks back at the crowd below and smiles.
"Charles," Blink says as she walks up beside him, "what we're doing here, what we're about to accomplish. This is all part of that dream, isn't it? That dream Magneto's friend Xavier had? We're living this out now, aren't we?"
Manchild looks back at his friend, the memories of two men meeting in a Cairo tavern still fresh in his mind. "I don't know, Clarice, but for the sake of the world, we owe it to ourselves to try."
---
"This is it, Uatu? This is all you have come to show me?"
"You see only what you choose to see. Did you not predict correctly that this Age of Wonders comes to an end."
"And yet another takes its place. Even in the ashes of this age, another begins, and this mere child...this mere child..."
"Perhaps you understand now what the girl has shown you. Perhaps you realize now that those fit to survive your world shall be the same as those who will end your quest to sit atop its ashes. The children whose courage and hope are never extinguished -- they will be the ones you strengthen. They will be the ones who will change the world."
"'One whom you have not known, yet whom you have created...' I am puzzled, Uatu...Uatu?"
There is no reply for En Sabah Nur. The Watcher has returned to his home, leaving the being called Apocalypse with only his thoughts. He looks upon the walls of his lair, a cornucopia of events that end with incomplete carving. There is a scarce hint of a portal opening in the sky, and inside that portal, the undefined shape a child...no, children.
"Children who have seen my world," he whispers to himself. "Children of the Apocalypse...sheep as strong as the wolves..."
He runs his fingers along the shallow engravings on the wall. "Perhaps one day, Manchild, when our paths cross in this great expanse of time, we shall know who the true children of THIS world shall be."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
EPILOGUE - THE LETTER
"You know if I leave you now
- Sarah McLachlan, "Wait"
* * *
Dear Charles,
It has been with a heavy heart that I have watched the events of the past few days unfold in our lives. The sadness of our loss is mixed with the pride I have felt in watching your ascension from lost child to planetary hero. Just as you have been an inspiration to me, you are now an inspiration to the entire world. It is with deep regret that I can share these moments with you no longer.
Our moment in paradise passed all too quickly, Charles, and for nothing more than my senseless addiction to your power. I was wrong. I know I was wrong, and I can never change the fact that I was wrong, but only seek penance for this deplorable sin I have committed against you. My wish is that I could somehow convince you that my true attraction to you is not what your mutant powers do for me, but rather what your mere presence in my life does for me. It is you that I loved, and what I still love.
And yet I am truly a heart divided, for though my love for you transcends your healing touch, I find myself weeping needlessly as I long to remember how it felt when we set sail for our private island, where we could be simple children and forget the world but for a moment. Perhaps it is true that one never truly recovers from an addiction, and must learn to live with that fact throughout the remainder of one's life, and thus, I stand alone in the face of my fears, my loss, my tragedy. Would there be someone in this vast expanse who understands what I feel right now? Even in the face of the renewed hope for mutant- human relations, would there be anyone who could possibly relate to my own suffering -- a suffering I needlessly inflicted upon myself?
If there were only words to explain how I truly felt about you, but alas, even if there were, I wonder how much they would mean at this point in our lives. A great artist once said that once you have tasted flight, you shall always walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you shall always be. Though we can both soar with the eagles, you have shown me heights that I may never reach again. Perhaps that is the only way I can say how much I truly loved you.
The others are gone now. They have taken off for parts unknown, perhaps as aware of their loss as I am. Just as before, I have alienated them, forgetting in my selfishness that they, too, have feelings, emotions, and a desire for companionship. This is the biggest change I must make in my life. You were my best friend in the world, and I threw that friendship away for the fact that I might no longer be a soul divided.
Ever since the day you and Clarice left this place, I have begun to do something most uncommon for me; I have begun to pray. I pray for you, your friends, your family, that they may know the peace I may never find. I also pray for forgiveness, though a voice in my head endlessly asks me, "What penance can there be for what I have done to you?"
I do not know, Charles. This is why I am leaving this place, to seek that penance, to learn of the world around me, and to find others that may teach me the way to mend my torn and tattered soul. I am but one on a planet of so many, and you have taught me that in spite of all I know, I know nothing, and I have so much to learn. Perhaps I shall learn of these things on my journey.
Should you ever read these words, perhaps you will know that in spite of my senselessness, I shall always treasure the memories we shared together, precious and few that they were, and perhaps you will know also that you always were and always will be my dearest love in this lifetime.
I wish you heaven, Charles Xavier Lehnscherr.
Love Always,
Monet
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In the end? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends."
- Alan Moore, "Watchmen"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Much too far I gone this time
And I don't want to think what I've done"
but I just had no intention of living this way"
to have and to hold that precious little thing
Like every generation hears
the newborn hope unjaded by their years"
and tears must be cried
Let's do some living
after we die"
I'm not alone in reaching for a perfect life."
Can you see me now?
I am myself
like you somehow"
It doesn't mean that I love you any less.
It's just this state I'm in
I can't be good to anyone else like this."