Disclaimer: No I do not own marvel. I do not own the Xmen. I do love XMEN! Dont we all? Enjoy this story. I make no money from it, ect.
ALSO: If you are going to trash my story dont do so annoymously. If you do your review will be deleted. It is also your choice whether or not to read the story. If you dont like, dont read it.
The school was gone. The professor was gone. Most of the team was devastated. Jean Grey, the once magnificent Phoenix, wouldn't leave the room that had been given to her. Scott Summers, who had looked upon Xavier as a father, seemed to be taking it hard. Often he could be found at the scene of the accident, or at Professor X's surrogate grave. What students had survived were bawling, or sitting silent and red eyed, their tears all gone. Gambit, that infamously charming, charged up Cajun, seemed to have lost his happy-go-lucky manner beneath the mask of grief and sorrow. Rouge spent her time consoling the students that had been left behind, although a few could hear her tears as she sobbed herself to an exhausted sleep. Bobby, the merry jokester, was no more. In his place was a silent young man, a somber quiet face.
No one saw Wolverine. He had left very shortly after the destruction of the only place he could remember calling home. Jubilee, who had been a sort of sidekick to Logan, now cursed his name and hated him for running off the they needed him most. But then again, few could be surprised. That had always been the Wolverine's way. Run from the Pain.
Many had been lost, yet sometimes it seemed as if all had been lost. They had no home to speak of, save for a temporary residence at Spell's house. Spell herself had not been seen for several days. No one even knew how it had happened . All of the sudden, when the team got back to the mansion after a struggling, yet victorious battle against Mystique and several of the Brotherhood.
When they reached the mansion, or what was left of it, the surviving students had been wandering among the wreckage, filthy, their faces tearstained. None of them could recollect what had happened, save for a single sentence. " Bright lights, so fast, no time, forgive." These were the only words the frightened students would say about that night, or day, whatever it was.
The bad part was that not all of the mansion was destroyed. It had the potential to be rebuilt, yet no one had the heart to rebuild when it seemed like the very purpose of the school was gone. It now seemed like it had all been a dream, a beautiful dream that had taken a sudden turn to a horrible nightmare. Their true leader, the man they had all loved, respected and cherished was gone. His actual body had not been found, but the shattered remnants of his chair had. They still held that chair dear for it was all that was left. They had buried the remains of the chair 6feet under the ground, in a polished, gold engraved casket. On his tombstone these words were engraved. " To the best man who ever looked upon this earth, a excellent friend, a forgiving man, whom we all hold dear, Charles Xavier." Spell had funded the whole burial, but had refused to attend, as she put it "the death of a chair."
Most of the New Mutants were dead. The X-Men might as well be. Jean Grey rarely ate, or slept, because not only had she lost her mentor she had lost her dearest friend. Ororo Monroe, the snowy haired "weather witch, was gone. Storms remains had not been found, but the shredded fabric of her costume and cape, as well as a single lightning bolt earring, now hung in Jean's room.
Meanwhile:
Wolverine snarled at the man who had dared challenge him. A quick blow to the head and it was all over.
"Who's next?" He growled at the referee.
"Why, the Queen, of course." Then the portly announcer said with startling force.
"Are we all ready for a royalty match? The newcomer, the one we call THE KING OF THE CAGE vs. the beautiful, the deadly, QUEEN of the cage. You know her, you love her, now give her a big cheer!"
At his last words a slender woman entered the ring amid shouts of "QUEEN! Whup him Queen."
The woman pulled back her long, disheveled dark hair and grinned at him. Her eyes were that of a hunter searching for her prey. She growled, an sinister sound. She fit right in with the smoky atmosphere and roughneck crowd, yet there was a certain elegance to her slim form as she removed a battered leather jacket and nodded at the referee.
"Finally found a pretty decent challenge, didn't ya Jimmy?"
The stout man nodded as he motioned for them to shake hands. She extended her hand, he extended his. Her grip was atypically strong, even if she had been a man, which, looking at her, there was no possibility of that. She lowered her head next to his and whispered softly in his ear.
"Finally I get to challenge Xavier's Wolverine."