Notes: This fic is somewhat of a departure for me, as I have no idea where it's going or when I'll finish it - but I've just been wanting to write a multi-chapter fic for oh-so-long, because it looks like a lot of fun, and because I never write anything longer than vignettes. So, if at any point you feel inclined to wrinkle up your nose in disgust and flame the heck out of me... please don't. I am just trying to broaden my writing horizons. Okay? Okay.

I've used excerpts from the Bible's Book of Revelation because that, of course, is the book that talks about the apocalypse. Most of the excerpts I've used are actually referring to God and not the antichrist or what have you. I figured I could use 'em anyway, seeing as how Apocalypse does have a high opinion of himself...

Edit Note 5/6/06: This is now hopelessly AU, but takes place shortly after "Shadow Dance".


I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
- Revelation 22:13


PROLOGUE

He stood on a roof overlooking the school.

In the early-morning light, the shadows cast by the office building's bulky air conditioning vent were still deep enough to offer some concealment, but his position was chosen more from habit than anything else. He was too far away from the school to be seen by the students - too far away for most people to see the students, in fact. However, he was not most people, and he saw them clearly.

He watched a special few as they laughed and chattered their way into the main building. A sensation akin to loss tugged at him; he had missed so much. The feeling, though, was unwelcome, and he mentally shook it off, replacing it with anger.

This was a mistake. He was wasting time he didn't have, and for what? To satisfy some childish curiosity about them, when he already knew the stories by heart.

The bell rang, a distant sound but still audible to him, and the last stragglers ran inside the building. The kids had no discipline.

Show's over, he told himself silently. He'd see them soon anyway.

He picked up the duffel bag at his feet and slung it over his shoulder once again as he left his position on the rooftop. There was a muffled clink from the bag - his weapons. The sound was reassuring, grounding, a reminder of why he was there.

Enough sentiment. He had work to do.

END PROLOGUE