Disclaimer: X-Men and all likeness there of belongs to Marvel Comics. I own nothing, and am not getting paid for this. Just when the fervor bites, fan fictions are produced.

Enjoy.

Authors note:

There are some relics that surface in this chapter taken from old issues of 'Uncanny X-Men." While this prologue is purely fictional, and expounds to a point, references of other arcs are mentioned. For those who are not so sure of what is what, I've provided a quick glossary to bring you up to par, and so the development of the true story can take root. Enjoy!

The Adversary- A being of pure energy that resides only to destroy the current world and replace it with his own Chaotic one. The Cheyenne People knew of it's existence and brought up warriors to fight it, one being the Shaman Naze who has passed on this training to Native American Mutant, Forge.

As this story begins, the Adversary has taken the form of Naze and convinced Storm that Forge was possessed instead. She is now confronted with the sight of him standing in front of a portal releasing the Adversary's Demon forces to earth, unaware that he was trying to close it instead.

____The Arrival and the Reunion______________________________________________________________________________

Prologue: Adversary's Whim

Eagle Plaza, Dallas Texas

"I am sorry, Forge, but you must be stopped.."

Storm stood pale and determined, bringing the knife down that connected to his flesh. Falling over in pain at the mouth of the swirling vortex before him, he grasped at his wound, ingulfed with disbelief at her actions. It was only then that his gaze turned to the figure beyond her.

Picking up the disillusioned look cast in Forge's wounded eyes, she turned to face Naze, who's form shifted. It was only then she realized the big mistake she had made.

The entity, who had taken the form of Forge's Shaman Mentor, Naze, laughed. As his voice laid in deep, he beckoned the disorder and calamity that the Cheyenne nation feared would one day could be unleashed on the present world.

"You've done me quite a service. This time, I cannot be stopped. The age of Chaos is here!"

In a blast of penetrating energy, both were propelled though the swollen vortex.

A few minutes later:

Forge grunted as he felt the blood saturating his shirt and then onto the moist earth below him. Moving was out of the question, but he did so anyway.

"Ororo?" He managed weakly.

It was several seconds until the rustle of movement surfaced, and white tresses belonging to the Wind-rider became visible. Brushing off the dirt from her cheek that was the product of a headfirst landing into the ground, she came to be at Forge's side.

"By the Bright lady, What have I done?"

Storm removed her vest, and then proceeded to strip down to bare skin. She tore the cloth into multiple shreds prepping them as makeshift bandages for Forge's crimson side.

"Be still," she commanded in her chocolate coated African dialect.

Forge's eyes were intently fixed on her, staring. She was aware as to why, and nonchalantly continued on with the task at hand. Without a warning, the fabric at his side was torn with zest replaced by bandages wrapped carefully. Leaning into him for better leverage, Forge drew in deep breathes hoping it would create a calming measure, and braced to keep silent.

As she finished tying the last strip, his hand came to rest on hers.

"Thank you."

As his eyes finally captured hers, he found solid fear encased within them. They marveled in hues of blue and grey, resembling a raging sea among an active tempest.

Saying nothing in return, she rose to sit upward, and doned the leather vest to cover herself. Cleaning the blood from her hands, and then wiping it into the earth below her, she brought her attentions to the landscape among them; an examination of the sky came foremost.

The pallet of the heavens created a mass of clouds in burnt sienna highlighted by hues of merging forest green and specks of black that quickly moved to blot out the remaining sunlight. Christening across the skyline in a duet of pure energy came lightning and the distant sound of thunder in reverb. All to familiar with the eerie combination the elements committed to create, she knew it was only a matter of time before the squall would churn all its might and glory into a funnel cloud upon the earth.

Two, in time, she mentally noted.

With that prospect brandishing, a survey of the landscape came next.

Looking past the pastures of green, Storm spotted the mountains that entertained shelter in the form of caves. Carefully helping Forge to his feet, leaning most of his weight onto her side, she moved over the grassy fields till they met with dirt and rock. Now inside the cave entrance, she eased him down to a sitting position as her voice reflected off the granite.

"This is going to be a long one."

Forge lowered an eyebrow with curious notion at her statement.

"It looks that way, yes."

Maneuvering into a more comfortable postion, he kept his eyes locked on her movements.

"Things will be alright. I'll just need some time to think of a solution. Possibly after the storm breaks we will be able to search out what is here."

Her body language was stoic.

" I feel nothing but darkness for miles."

Forge gruntled at intuitive nature, for she was spot on. From the Cheyenne legends of this unnatural void, known as Adversary's World, he knew all the chaos that was passing over was being transferred onto earth. He also knew that this banishment could be lasting indefinite, but refused to settle so prematurely on that eventuality. It was a fine line between lore and reality.

"The Adversary's signature. Shock-waves responding to this atmosphere. Frankly as severe as these storms may seem, if Cheyenne Legends hold true, it is a good sign. Means a part of him still resonates here."

Storm faced him. Her voice was even, low.

"It seems my actions have put us in another wonderful set of circumstances. How fortunate for you to be trapped here without anyone else for company but the woman who cant trust you and tries to kill you instead."

A slight chortle followed her cynicism. It was a side of her he had seen next to little of.

He decided to match her.

"As far as I am concerned, if that was your intent, you were more then skilled to do so."

"I guess your right. I should have used a gun. Less messy, more efficient. It is not like I can electrocute people like in good times past."

"You mean not as of present."

"Yeah, I guess your right. Sensing the storm systems comes first. At this rate, I am looking at another year before the ability to cause a drizzle manifests. Look, the rain descends now."

As if taking commands from their mistress, Forge followed her lead to gaze outside the cave. Beyond the now black sky, a descent of rain began to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

A inquisitive eyebrow lowered in her direction.

"How long has it been?"

Ororo shrugged a shoulder, crossing her arms and leaning against the rocky exterior.

"About a month. For the first few days, it was accompanied by horrible migraines. Definitely a good thing the elements did not mimic my distress for all of Upstate New York would be under a state of emergency. Besides, you did not think I would show up at your door in good spirits asking to revive our relationship, did you? If anything, I know you Maker," she paused, " And I know your the only one who can cure my condition. By the Goddess, you created it."

She paused, lowering her head as strands of hair fell in her face.

"But that is no concern now. Without anything here but us, survival is now the main concern. Getting back will be a blessing. And you have me to thank for it all."

Words Forge knew were true, but she didn't need any convincing of that.
It had been nearly a year since his invention, the Neutralizer, did exactly that to Storm and her ability to control the elements. At death's door, he felt the ultimate responsibility to nurse her suicidal nature back to health, all the while falling in love with her. And for a time, the feeling was more then mutual. It all came crashing around him with the misunderstanding of a phone call. Being a private government contractor put him in more straights then she could ever imagine. Patents, prototypes, misuse of his designs; this case was no different, but it did not matter. She returned to lead the X-Men, void of her extremely powerful mutant gifts and yet somehow more stronger and beautiful then ever.
Her spirit - how he admired her for it.
But she found nothing of admiration in him.

With that thought, he sighed, but decided not to dwell too deeply on it.

The revelation of some portion of Ororo's powers slowly returning presented more then he could hope for. In time, maybe he could get them home, but that was a distant thought.

The wind from the raging tempest began to gradually increase through the opening of the cave, and as if Storm had sensed it coming, she came to be at his side. Protectively in a huddle, her arms extended around him.

"Hold me."

Forge did so cradling her to him with much care as the wind came to be a thunderous roar kicking up Debris around them.

As mother nature brought in her fury, he felt the pressure of her lips on his.