Some souls are as old as thought, as old as reason and wishes. Older than prayer, older than wisdom, and watched the world born in a sea of fire and light. Old souls that lived countless lives, died a hundred thousand deaths, and always woke again.
Cursed souls.
Divine souls.
Beings of magic and myth, chaos and stasis.
They slept. They slumbered in their tiny lives, ignorant of who or what they really were, doomed to play out the same stories, over and over again, learn the same lessons, and never break the cycle.
They fall from Grace, they die alone, they burn in the fires of man's fear and ignorance, drown in the sea of humanity's cruelty, and always begin again.
Four souls.
Always together, always torn apart.
But this time, something was different, because while they were once again the children of Men, there was something just a tiny bit more about each one. It was a very small thing. Just one variable.
All of eternity rested in that tiny new equation.
The value of x.
***
"Oh, god." Scott recoiled from the cup he'd just sipped from and shuddered. "Christ Almighty, what the hell is this? It tastes like battery acid and failure."
"Logan made it!" Jubilee said cheerfully, swallowing a mouthful and passing a full cup to Jean. "After his last session with Red, he remembered the recipe."
Scott stared at the old fashioned coffee pot that perked away on the stove. Oh look, his fillings ached and his mouth had a disturbing oily feel behind the bile curdling after taste of what was being dubbed as 'coffee'. He shuddered and set the cup down.
"Don't put milk in it," Jubes warned him, "It'll just curdle."
Scott side-eyed Jean. "Recipe?" How did that have a recipe? "It's worse than Hank's." He look at Jean and grimaced. "I'm not kidding, and-" He blinked rapidly behind his glasses, "Oh, man...I think I can hear colors."
There was a BAMF outside the kitchen door. "Was zum Teufel?" A groggy German voice groaned, "No. Nein. I'm not smelling what I think I'm smelling."
"You are!" Jubilee sang out, "Logan remembered his coffee recipe!"
Kurt opened the door and made a face, "My fur is curling. I thought Emma had scrubbed that vile concoction out of his brain?"
He was pushed into the kitchen by a grinning Wolverine, "I remembered. Jeannie's session. Ain't it grand?"
Logan poured a cup and shoved it into Kurt's hands, "Drink up, Elf. We got a long day ahead of us."
Kurt eyed the liquid in the cup, "Why is it...greasy?"
"Best Russian coffee beans the Soviet Army ever lost in a warehouse in Afghanistan!" Logan took a long swallow and grinned, "Go on, it'll put hair on your chest."
Kurt glanced down at his bare chest and its sleek fur, "I'm good on that. I'll pass."
"Ya yellow?" Logan snorted.
"Blue. I drink this and I'll be green." Kurt sniffed at the cup, "This is different than the one from before."
"This is the GOOD recipe. I ain't made this in, oh, 20 years or so. And I remembered where I stashed those beans!"
Scott spit his mouthful into the sink, "Gah!"
"Bobby'll be down soon." Kurt said, opening the fridge and offering Scott a soda to rinse his mouth with. "He just got my finance paperwork from Bavaria and the rest of my assorted accounts and things. I thought I heard weeping so I ran away."
"Oh yeah, the Cajun reminded me about that. I dropped off the shit from the account I made ya way back when." Logan mused. "I forgot all about it."
"Ja, there's a few accounts I forgot about. The Professor made one for me and I had a couple from Excalibur and here with the X-Men. I forget, but the Bavaria one is the big one. I think." Kurt shrugged and started a pot of non-lethal coffee that wasn't made from Cold War beans. "Bobby likes money things."
Scott shook his head. Tax season was upon them and Kurt was finally a US Citizen. It was Bobby's job to fix his money so the IRS could start putting the hurt on.
But, that was not important, they had a mission. Sort of. They were working New Year Eve in Times Square as Security. Visible Security. Invited Security. It was a huge deal for the X-Men as far as PR and for mutants in general. They were up at 4am because they had a huge day of prep and interviews. Warren was already at a news station for a morning interview. "Everybody feeling pretty and presentable?"