Author's Notes: This story was inspired by the 'Qabiri' storyline from the X-Man solo in the early 2000's. The villain was given powers equal to Phoenix, Galactus, Thanos, and other big guns – but he was defeated with relative ease and hasn't been back since. So what if he'd followed his story to its logical end and destroyed Earth-616? This fic heavily uses myths, archetypes, and symbolism. If anyone is interested in details, let me know and I'll include details after each chapter. Some people (like this one right here) really enjoy the deeper meanings but I think most readers are looking for entertainment and don't want to be distracted. As always, please review and enjoy!

Chapter One: O Fortuna

By the time Nate arrived, he was running over the bodies of his friends. The world was burning, just as the prophecies foretold, and he couldn't stop it. But for now, he held the broken front and last line of defense with an alternate version of his father – the hero known as Cyclops. They'd begun this fight as a team of twelve, but like a murderous version of "ten little monkeys", they were now a team of two.

Qabiri, the death bringer, raised his sword and said, "The deadwood must be burned."

Cyclops signaled for the B-team Avengers to attempt a Hail Mary. While Qabiri was distracted, the X-Men tried to flank him, but by the time they'd circled round, Quicksilver and Brother Voodoo were dead. Captain Marvel made a desperate break for deep space, where she hoped to escape the carnage, but the Shi'ar shot her down just like they'd shot down every other refugee from Earth.

"You fought admirably," Qabiri told them.

Nate looked to his father. "The Gaul attack?"

"You know I don't like that name," said Cyclops.

Nate lunged at their black-haired, tattoo-bearing murderer. With fierce bloodlust, he attacked again and again and again. Cyclops fell. Still, he fought on. He could not lose this fight or it would mean the death of his child and all the children on Earth.

With grace, Qabiri deflected his punches and kicks; fighting him was like fighting a black hole.

"Enough." The sword came down on Nate's neck.

In a fraction of a second, his heart shattered and burned and wept and was reborn. He was the most powerful telepath in the universe, so his mind accomplished even more by reaching out to the person his heart needed.

"How can I fix this?" he asked Xavier.

"We've got to reverse time! Quickly!"

Time and space flexed inside out and imploded in a single, blinding flash.

The White Hot Room
"Nate?" Jean greeted him. "As I live and breathe! What are you doing here?"

"Strictly speaking, you do neither," he teased. "I've come to train."

"You've never trained before."

"No choice. My world's been destroyed. I have to find a way to turn back time and stop it from happening."

She smiled serenely, "So you've come to the White Hot Room."

"I've already hurt so many people, and that was why I held back. I should've- I shouldn't have-"

"Make yourself at home."

She needn't have said it. The White Hot Room appeared different to everyone and served a myriad of needs. To Nate, it was a pearly white, colossal room capped in gold in-lays and ruby stones. A set of jade stairs led up beyond his sight. He couldn't see where they ended, but he was sure it was where he needed to be.

Up he sprinted.

The White Hot room had vanished. Only the unending jade stairs stretched on behind and ahead of him. Had he made a mistake?

Suddenly, he was in the Danger Room back on Earth. His team had just finished a training session and was heading to shower – exhausted but extremely pleased. As they stepped out, Cyclops stepped in, and hailed him.

"Nate! Have a minute?"

"Certainly."

"I was watching upstairs. That was quite impressive, and I don't impress easily."

"That's an understatement."

"Look," Scott offered a rare half-smile, "I know you haven't been here long and there's a lot of politics involved. But I hope you'll stay. With training and time, I'd like to see you replace me one day."

Nate said nothing.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

The vision faded and Nate jogged up the jade stairs alone.

Resentment fueled him for the long time. Then fear set in. What purpose would the Room have to tempt him? He could think of none. Therefore, he concluded that the Room was no long in control – he was. If he had that sort of power, why didn't he know it? Would these stairs never end?

Eventually, he stopped to rest, and silk pillows appeared. Pearly white faded to deep-sea darkness and floating lanterns appeared in every direction. A fountain served lemonade – his favorite! And then women appeared, as soft and easy as the lovely pillows, with clothes cut along their breasts and bottoms. A tall ginger embraced a slender one and they kissed tenderly.

"Excuse me," he said, "Perhaps you didn't see me. I don't mean to intrude on an intimate moment. If you'll allow me to finish this," he lifted his glass, "I'll be on my way."

"You're not aroused?" asked the petite woman.

"Not even a little. Can you tell me if you're a figment of my imagination? Or are you bait?"

"We're whatever you want us to be."

Together, they wrapped their arms around him. That's when he noticed the pillows were the color of skin and the buttons looked eerily like noses. The lanterns, too, watched hungrily. He wasn't a visitor, he was a meal!

"Answers that question!" He shimmied out of their embrace and rushed away.

Suddenly, the infinite staircase didn't seem so long after all. He wanted to be far, far away from the cannibal longue.

The staircase eventually leveled off, so he was no longer climbing but strolling along a plateau. The air was cooler and thinner. He reckoned he was miles up by now – if the Room obeyed the usual laws of physics, which it probably didn't. The white had faded, too, or perhaps he was losing his sight.

"Please," came a small voice from below, "Please help."

He looked over the edge of the jade plateau. There, faint and very distant, was a ghostly man. Again, he called for help.

"You're the X-Man, aren't you? My name is Tripp and my world is in trouble. They say X-Men are honor-bound to help the helpless. Unless you save us, we'll all perish."

"My deepest apologies-"

"Please! I have children! A wife! Parents! The wolves will come with fire and slaughter us in our homes!"

"My world needs me, too."

"We have nowhere else to go! No weapons can destroy them! Please, one day, that's all I ask. I beg you!"

"Send your best warrior to the White Hot Room," said Nate. "They can train-"

"There's no time!" The man scoffed. "No one here is strong enough. We sold every possession and gave everything to deliver this message! Calling you is the best we're able."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot leave the course."

His protestations faded as Nate moved on with feet burdened by guilt, but the words burned his ears. In silence, he would always hear 'They called you hero! They said you would save us!'

To comfort himself, he remembered the Room was full of lies. Cyclops and the women had been deceptions. Why not the man, too? The problem was: he knew the man to be true. Even if he hadn't been real, there were universes collapsing all around. Each begged a higher power for help. Nate had to ignore them, sacrifice them – if he was going to save his own.

Along the way, he passed by a pregnant, sobbing ex-girlfriend named Melody. She didn't speak to him; nor he to her.

The jade path inclined once more, and he knew he was nearing the summit. Large, leafy green plants became more frequent. He passed shrines, fountains, and waterfalls. A congregation was gathered. He couldn't see, but he could hear them. Straight ahead, he saw a bright red torii gate, which marked traditional Japanese temples. It seemed as good a destination as any.

At the entrance, a woman with blue eyes and auburn hair was waiting. She smiled and he instantly recognized she was his daughter.

"April..?"

"What took you so long?"

They embraced warmly and then he looked her over. Thankfully, she was dressed in blue jeans and flannel, not an X-uniform. Her slender build, smooth skin, and owl eyeglasses confirmed she was an intellectual and not a soldier. Like all Grey women, she was a red-head and she wore her family trait in a long, messy braid.

"Why're you here?" he asked.

"Same as you, I imagine."

"But how?"

"Lots of people make it this far. See?" She pointed to the bustling crowd. "Most of them will go no further."

He had many questions, but worried this was another trap by the Room. As they strolled along, he wondered if he should merely enjoy her presence or try to gain knowledge from her.

"I know what you're thinking," she said. "But look, you see the torii gate? It separates the sacred from the profane."

"How is this possible? My daughter's a baby."

"Time doesn't exist here, you goose! But limitations do… This is as far as I can go. I know what's next and I want to help you."

"If time doesn't exist, what's the hurry?"

"I'll give you the tool now and you can take it whenever you're ready."

"Fair enough." He agreed.

"Don't answer, just think… What are you willing to die for? That's your tool."

By now, they'd reached a small wooden bridge over a clear little creek. He could've easily jumped the distance, but April said she couldn't cross it.

"I don't think I'll return this way," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Anxious, she said, "You have your answer. What's worth sacrificing your life for? List everything. If something's not on that list don't die for it."

"This body can't be killed by conventional or cosmic methods. Don't worry!"

He waved good-bye as he crossed the bridge and three steps later, April and her sacred space vanished in mist. The path was no longer smooth jade but brittle wood. The once pristine air had turned smoggy. Too late, his logic caught up, and he wondered – if time and death did not exist in the Room, why was she concerned with one but not the other?

That's when it hit him. Not some profound epiphany, but a crippling migraine brought him to his knees. It felt like lightning. Like every organ key in the world was struck at once inside his skull.

He knew this pain, he'd felt it before, and it could only mean that Cable was near. Cable, of course, was the son of another world's Cyclops. He'd been sent as a baby to the distant future and returned a grumpy old soldier. The cosmos had a sick sense of humor, so any time Nate and Cable came into contact, they both suffered.

Here came the war dog now. Nate struggled to his feet, astounded that Cable could bear the pain so easily. He must've been in constant agony.

"You did good, kid," said Cable, "But the trail ends here."

"Actually, it extends a few more yards. I intend to see this through. If you planned to prevent me, why didn't you try sooner?"

"Who says I didn't?"

Realization dawned on him. "The bait… That was you. And April-?"

"No, she's real. It's not too late to turn back and spend some more time with her."

"Time doesn't exist here."

Cable agreed, "That's what I've heard. Did you think about what she said?... What would you die for? Her?"

"That's a given." He wanted to kill Cable to make the pain stop. It was almost impossible to concentrate on what he said.

"Your team? Your family?" He paused. "How about your principles? Your oaths? Xavier's dream?"

Nate shrugged.

"If you reach the summit, you will lose everything worth dying to preserve. What's worth that?"

"Survival," he said instantly. "The survival of the world."

He sighed and unsheathed the gun at his side. "Sorry, kid, I tried. But if words won't stop you, this will."

Nate flinched but Cable was faster. The round clipped his shoulder and knocked him off the plateau. Cable stepped up to the edge and watched him fade into white.

In a flash, Nate re-appeared behind Cable

"It's over!" he boasted, "I have the high ground!"

"I have the gun," Cable replied and opened fire once more.

Nate sprinted for the summit. Another round clipped his thigh but he stumbled across the threshold.

Alone in a twilight world, he stumbled through a swamp. Something caught his foot and he tripped. Hands, extended to catch himself, submerged in the muddy water. Eels slithered around his knees and wrists. Razor-sharp teeth nipped the flesh down to the bone. This was his doing. He felt the loss of everything – his body, his life, his memories; his child; his manhood.

He was a boy again.

…

To Be Continued..