PROLOGUE

"I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread."—Langston Hughes

Xavier Institute

Near Salem Center, New York, U.S.A.

September 2008 A.D.

"That's good." The disembodied voice of Delilah Josephine 'D.J.' Wagner echoed throughout the Danger Room. The eight mutants in the Danger Room stopped as everything else froze then vanished. "Hit the showers and meet us in the conference room in one hour."

D.J. leaned back in the control chair and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a three-fingered hand. "Gott in Himmel," she muttered in German.

"What's wrong?" Joshua Guthrie asked from across the control room.

Cessily Kincaid looked at Josh. Together, the three of them was all that was left of the 'Crazy Eights' training squad that had dominated the Institute for a few short weeks. First Laura Kinney died, then Clarice Fernández was sent off to rehab, Santo Vaccarro left for unknown reasons, Clarice left rehab and never returned, and Julian Keller and Kitty Pryde left to take jobs with X-Factor investigations.

"What do you think's wrong?" Cessily asked. For the past year, they'd been getting by with stopgap replacements that lasted only a few weeks. Now they could pick whomever they wanted to fill the five vacancies permanently.

"They're not the old Crazy Eights, I'll give them that," Josh replied. "But they're not that horrible."

D.J. shook her head. "I miss Julian. And Kitty. And Laura. And Santo."

"What about Clarice?" Josh asked.

D.J. closed her yellow eyes and pursed her lips. She must have been remembering happier times for a loan moan escaped her lips. After a moment, she opened one of her eyes and saw both Josh and Cessily giving her odd looks. She sat up straight and coughed once.

"I miss Clarice as much as the others," D.J. covered herself.

"Sure," Cessily said, a slight smile on her face. She changed the subject, and said, "So, who should we keep."

"Megan," Josh answered quickly.

"And Vik," D.J. added.

"Figured you two would pick them." Megan Gwynn was a Welsh teenager with fairy-like wings, while Vikrama Ramamurthy was an Indian teen with green skin and a long tongue. And like D.J., he was also gay. Cessily spread her hands. "Face it, they're just younger versions of yourselves, who happen to be of opposite gender of you."

"I think you're over thinking this one, Cess," Josh said taping a finger on the table in front of him.

Cessily shrugged. "Maybe. But I like them too. So Megan and Vik?" D.J. and Josh both nodded their heads. Cessily wrote the two names on the sheet of paper. "Okay, that's two spots filled. We have six candidates for three spots. Who else?"

"Kevin, Nori, and David," Josh replied.

"Laurie, Brian, and Spencer."

"Fuck," Cessily said, putting her head in her hands. "How did I know you two would do that to me? I fucking hate both of you."