Prologue
Scott Summers.
Cyclops.
Mutant.
Freak.
Leader.
Hero.
X-Man.
Father.
Husband.
The energy sword ripped through Scott's chest like tissue paper. Blood poured from the wound, as the blade was pulled from his chest, and plunged in repeatedly. He slumped to the ground—
Forever, Scott Summers—
Dead.
Logan. Wolverine. James. A Fighter by nature, one never one for giving up. His love for those around him offset by his rough exterior. But as he shielded the young Kitty Pride and Rogue from the deadly energy, he had one though going through his mind—
Free.
One though, as his skin was torn away—
Free.
One thought as his Adamantium skeleton fell to the ground burning—
Free.
Jean Grey, Phoenix, the Black Queen, Mrs. Summers. No. Marvel Girl, stood, encased in pure energy. A bolt fired from her hand destroying one attacker—millions to go—another from her eyes taking out three or four. Pointless. A word she often used to describe her life. Her fight. But now it was different it was describing her fear. Her life wasn't pointless it was limitless. Her fight was only just beginning.
The Phoenix's energy enveloped her, made her rise towards the sky.
A flash of light. Hundreds of people dead. And Jean was gone.
Robert Drake, the youngest male X-Man, Iceman. The glistening of Iceman's body blinded the enemy for a short while, long enough for him to encase the armaments in an ice prison. At the price, he remains in it, to keep its power up. Fifty soldiers were stuck in the prison with him and 35% of their weapons. The power and focus it was draining from the boy was immense.
Even though he was partially ice, thanks to his mutation. The cold was unbearable. He felt breathing become shallow, his heart slow and his mind become erratic.
I love you, Rogue. Forgive me. But her heart belonged to another.
He closed his eyes, and the smile disappeared from his face. His heart gave three more beats before the cold seized it. His head rolled to the side and he lay still, encased in the prison he controlled.
Storm and Nightcrawler stood embracing each other, in front of the largest soldier. The General. The floor was falling out from under them, and with their last ounce of courage, Storm used herself as a lightning rod and Nightcrawler teleported the two inside the General—
I do.
Their bodies began to strain under the energy—
I do.
The two X-Men struggled to stay holding each other—
I'll never leave you. I'll never let you go.
Finally it became too much, Nightcrawler let go, and he floated from her—
I'll be with you always. Until death, do us part. Understand?
Nightcrawler's being disintegrated seconds before Storm as he tried to teleport the two out of the there. The bamfing noise sounding more like an anguished scream. Storm watched on with horror one though zooming through her mind—
You said you'd never leave me.
Rogue. It wasn't even her real name. That was lost to her now. As was everyone, she loved. If they were gone, could she be loved anymore? Probably. But that wasn't the answer she wanted. A definite 'yes' was what she needed.
Kitty Pride fell behind Rogue, her chest filled with arrows. Rogue was now the last X-Man. And the last of the original 7. Filled with regret, she removed her gloves—
I can't control my powers, Professor. Can you cure me?
She flew slowly, dodging everything gracefully, before landing in front of the Orb of Askut'kan—
Your powers are not a disease Rogue. They don't need to be cured.
Rogue couldn't help but laugh when she remembered this. She grabbed hold of the Orb and began to absorb—
Rogue let me touch you. Just once. I don't care if it kills me.
She had almost killed the man she loved, Remy LeBau as well as actually killing countless other innocent people. And now she would sacrifice her own life—for redemption? No. For peace? No. Because she had to.
Scott Summers.
Cyclops.
Mutant.
Freak.
Leader.
Hero.
X-Man.
Father.
Husband.
The energy sword ripped through Scott's chest like tissue paper. Blood poured from the wound, as the blade was pulled from his chest, and plunged in repeatedly. He slumped to the ground—
Forever, Scott Summers—
Dead.
Logan. Wolverine. James. A Fighter by nature, one never one for giving up. His love for those around him offset by his rough exterior. But as he shielded the young Kitty Pride and Rogue from the deadly energy, he had one though going through his mind—
Free.
One though, as his skin was torn away—
Free.
One thought as his Adamantium skeleton fell to the ground burning—
Free.
Jean Grey, Phoenix, the Black Queen, Mrs. Summers. No. Marvel Girl, stood, encased in pure energy. A bolt fired from her hand destroying one attacker—millions to go—another from her eyes taking out three or four. Pointless. A word she often used to describe her life. Her fight. But now it was different it was describing her fear. Her life wasn't pointless it was limitless. Her fight was only just beginning.
The Phoenix's energy enveloped her, made her rise towards the sky.
A flash of light. Hundreds of people dead. And Jean was gone.
Robert Drake, the youngest male X-Man, Iceman. The glistening of Iceman's body blinded the enemy for a short while, long enough for him to encase the armaments in an ice prison. At the price, he remains in it, to keep its power up. Fifty soldiers were stuck in the prison with him and 35% of their weapons. The power and focus it was draining from the boy was immense.
Even though he was partially ice, thanks to his mutation. The cold was unbearable. He felt breathing become shallow, his heart slow and his mind become erratic.
I love you, Rogue. Forgive me. But her heart belonged to another.
He closed his eyes, and the smile disappeared from his face. His heart gave three more beats before the cold seized it. His head rolled to the side and he lay still, encased in the prison he controlled.
Storm and Nightcrawler stood embracing each other, in front of the largest soldier. The General. The floor was falling out from under them, and with their last ounce of courage, Storm used herself as a lightning rod and Nightcrawler teleported the two inside the General—
I do.
Their bodies began to strain under the energy—
I do.
The two X-Men struggled to stay holding each other—
I'll never leave you. I'll never let you go.
Finally it became too much, Nightcrawler let go, and he floated from her—
I'll be with you always. Until death, do us part. Understand?
Nightcrawler's being disintegrated seconds before Storm as he tried to teleport the two out of the there. The bamfing noise sounding more like an anguished scream. Storm watched on with horror one though zooming through her mind—
You said you'd never leave me.
Rogue. It wasn't even her real name. That was lost to her now. As was everyone, she loved. If they were gone, could she be loved anymore? Probably. But that wasn't the answer she wanted. A definite 'yes' was what she needed.
Kitty Pride fell behind Rogue, her chest filled with arrows. Rogue was now the last X-Man. And the last of the original 7. Filled with regret, she removed her gloves—
I can't control my powers, Professor. Can you cure me?
She flew slowly, dodging everything gracefully, before landing in front of the Orb of Askut'kan—
Your powers are not a disease Rogue. They don't need to be cured.
Rogue couldn't help but laugh when she remembered this. She grabbed hold of the Orb and began to absorb—
Rogue let me touch you. Just once. I don't care if it kills me.
She had almost killed the man she loved, Remy LeBau as well as actually killing countless other innocent people. And now she would sacrifice her own life—for redemption? No. For peace? No. Because she had to.