A/N: Yeah, I don't really have a whole lot to say with this chapter. Sorry about the wait for it. ^^; Read and review, if you wish. And you ought to know by now from my taglines in the other chapters who all the characters belong to. If you don't, go back and start re-reading.


Chapter 7: The Warped Reflection

Two days passed since the night Arial had told the others of his past. Two days he'd avoided revealing his real mutation, the one his father's experiments had finally coaxed out of dormancy. Two days in which he'd learned about Chase and Todd hiding their mutual crush on each other, and seen Pietro shy away from him in the halls. Two days in which he'd visited Principal Darkholme's class, expecting to be reprimanded, only to end up with a smile, a pat on the back, and approval.

It was a very confusing and slightly miserable two days for the young mutant, who worried that the few new friends he'd made would begin to shun him. Thankfully, it seemed to be rather split down the middle on that end: Jean, Scott, and Rogue didn't really speak to him after the discussion. Neither did Kurt, but he wasn't remotely upset about that. Kitty seemed to waver between the two, torn as to whether she should side with the others, but still attempting to cheer Arial up at the same time. Evan of course, seemed to take up most of the slack the others made, going to extreme lengths to try to talk some of the life back into Arial, who did his best to smile and respond. And of course Tiras still talked to him, albeit in her own unique way. Chase was another odd factor, seeming a bit wary but still trying to remain friendly, though she had different reasons than Kitty; Arial got the distinct feeling that she didn't want him revealing her secret crush to anyone.

Not like I vould do that anyvay, he thought to himself in the middle of art class on the second day, It's not really my business. Plus, if she keeps up the charade, everyone vill find out sooner or later.

After all, it wasn't like he would have been able to keep his tentacles hidden forever. The others would have discovered that little secret eventually.

Though now that I think about it, he added as he made a few more soft strokes on the canvas he was using, I think I vould have done better to tell them on my own, instead of getting in that fight. There vould be more trust if I'd just told them myself.

He paused at that, his brush hanging away from the canvas and wavering in his grip. Was he actually beginning to regret putting Pietro in his place? He shook his head and scowled, annoyed with himself. There was nothing wrong with standing up to a bully. He just shouldn't have let his temper get the better of him in the moment. He began to paint again, allowing his mind to flow into the media, letting the art consume him.

"Arial, what's that you're painting?"

But he didn't hear Tiras's question. His mind moved with the brush, lost in the strokes, the smell, the colors. And had he heard, he probably wouldn't have been able to give her an answer. The image was already within the canvas, and he was merely bringing it out, not stopping to process what his mind's eye was seeing, not thinking of anything except bringing it to light, giving it life for all to see.

He'd begun the shading when his tentacles gave a jerk inside his hoodie, and he realized the instructor was right behind him.

"Very good, Arial! You're a natural! I see a lot of symbolism in this piece, a message for the viewer to interpret at will. But at the same time, you've given it such a feeling of loss and lament, it's difficult to confuse the actual thoughts of the artist when viewed." she said with a bit of a proud smile. "Well done!"

He blinked up at her, shaking the sense of artistic void from his head, then looked again at his canvas. His blue eyes went wide with shock and the color drained from his face as he looked at his work.

He'd painted his mother, floating just below the surface of the water, skin the green-blue of the drowned, her golden curls billowing around her like a cloud, her eyes shut and hands resting clasped over her midriff, as though she were merely sleeping.

"D-danke schön, Frau." was all he managed to reply.

Really, what else could he have said?

He stared at the painting a while more, his expression softening in sorrow, studying the detail he'd put into remembering her…until his eyes stopped on her left hand. On her ring finger, in place of her wedding band and engagement stone, he'd somehow painted a tiny black wreath of thorns. A shudder of terror wracked his entire frame.

What did that mean? And why had he painted it?

He put the canvas away and refused to look at it during the remainder of the class.


The evening was falling over Bayville. The students had returned to their homes a little earlier, when the dying afternoon sun was still in the sky. Kurt was busy rounding up the others for dinner when he found Arial, curled up in a ball on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and staring at nothing with haunted eyes.

The image shook Kurt to his core.

"Arial?" he asked, and when the blonde boy looked up, he added, "…S-supper."

He received a tiny nod in return, then teleported to the stairs, trying to get the image out of his head. He hated seeing people with that expression, and for a moment, he half-wanted to go back to the room, to coax Arial into a happier mood. But a tiny voice in his head insisted that the other boy would just respond negatively, the same way he'd been responding to Kurt since he first arrived.

The notion, however kind, was a pointless one.

"Hey, Kurt," Kitty called, and he glanced down one of the other halls, catching sight of his friend and Chase, "What's going on?"

"Supper." he answered lamely. "Do any of you know what is going on with Arial?"

Chase bit her lip and Kitty's face took on a puzzled expression. "Is he still grumpy about the other night?" asked the latter.

"No," he replied, "I just went to his room to tell him about supper, and he was hunched up on his bed. He looks like he's trapped in some kind of waking nightmare or something!"

"Hey, what have I told you teeny-bops about gossiping?" came a growl from the bottom of the staircase, and they all jumped. "You say something's up with goldilocks, elf?"

They each turned to face Logan as he began trudging up the stairs, and Kurt slowly nodded.

"Ja, he—"

"Save your breath, I heard the whole thing." Logan huffed, climbing the staircase past him and heading toward the hallway, "You three go ahead and hustle your butts down to the kitchen; I'll round up sushi-boy."

The three exchanged a quick glance and a shrug—there was simply no arguing with Wolverine, especially when he spoke like that—and took the staircase at a fast trot. They'd just reached the lower floor when they heard a yelp and a slew of half-intelligible protests in German. Kurt looked up and noticed, with a measure of grim delight, that Wolverine had made more than good on his threat, descending the staircase with a shouting, red-faced Arial swung over one shoulder.


"All I am saying," Arial said, choosing his words carefully, "Is that it vas rather unnecessary." Most of the color had faded from his face, but his cheeks still remained rather pink with embarrassment.

"Logan was just trying to help, Arial." Kitty threw in, not for the first time.

"Yeah, we didn't want you to miss supper!" Evan exclaimed.

"None of us did." Ashton said firmly, shooting glares at Scott, Jean, and Yana when they pointedly looked away.

"Rubber bouncy snakes?" Bambi asked in excitement, watching Arial expectantly from his high chair, wriggling, ducking and weaving to avoid the food Yana was trying to feed him.

"I vouldn't have missed supper! Kurt already told me about it. I vas coming," Arial protested unconvincingly, "I'm just saying Herr Logan didn't need to sving me around like a sack of potatoes."

"I'll keep that in mind, goldilocks," Wolverine remarked from his spot further down the table, "Next time, I'll just drag you along by your ankles."

"Logan!" Ororo snapped at him, but the older man took no notice as he continued to eat.

"There isn't something bothering you, is there Arial?" Professor Xavier asked from his seat at the head of the table. At once the noise level in the room seemed to drop, and everyone struggled not to stare openly at the boy. For his part, Arial looked up, met the psychic's eyes, then looked solemnly back at the food on his plate.

"Ja, there is," he murmured, pushing his food around idly with his fork, "But I don't feeling like bringing it up right now. I'd rather talk to you about it later…in private."

To his surprise, the professor merely raised his eyebrows and nodded, smiling in approval. At last, Arial finally appeared to be opening up a bit.

"Who all is working on homework after supper?" Petrov asked, by way of breaking the silence, and a hesitant Tiras raised her hand.

"I don't have any homework tonight," Evan replied cheerfully.

"I don't either." Arial piped up, and when Evan turned to grin at him, he offered a nervous smile in response.

"I never have homework." Ashton said with a yawn, leaning back in his chair.

"Would any of you like to play cards after supper?" Petrov asked, looking at them each, his gaze hopeful when he turned it on Arial. The blonde boy opened his mouth to answer—

—And all hell broke loose.

In the span of a few seconds, one of the windows exploded inward, shards of glass raining down over the table and the mutants, with a cacophony of sound, the shattering mingling horribly with the sounds of outcries of fear and shock. But the glass brought something with it, something that landed dead-center in the middle of the table, crouching like an animal about to pounce. Everyone jumped back from the table, crying out, Logan extending his claws, Evan his bone spikes, and the thing slowly began to uncurl itself, swinging its head around to face Arial.

It was human-shaped, but a distorted vision of anything remotely human, like something out of an H. P. Lovecraft nightmare. It had no hair, but rather the semblance of fleshy dreadlocks that grew out of its head and stirred like Medusa's snakes. It had no nose either, but a pair of slit-like nostrils where a nose should have been, not unlike artistic renditions of J. K. Rowling's signature villain. The ears that framed either sided of its face were large and ended in sharp points, but flared upward, more like a goblin than some elf. The mouth was normal enough, save for the needle-sharp teeth that it held, and the eyes…

The irises were red, but when Arial looked closer, it wasn't the color that chilled him; it was the shape of the creature's eyes, for he'd seen them before.

Every time he'd looked in a mirror.

The monster straightened out of its crouch, impossibly tall and long-legged, its height accentuated by the table, reminding everyone forcibly of some sort of giant. A black leather pair of pants adorned its legs, torn at the feet above the ankles, and the barest shredded remains of what may have been a cotton shirt hung from its corded arms and draped sadly over a powerful torso. But that wasn't the worst part.

The thing shifted somehow without really moving. The muscular shoulders rolled, and tentacles of flesh and muscle—real human flesh and muscle, not Arial's grafted octopus limbs—began to undulate softly, rippling as though caught in an unnoticed breeze.

It paused long enough to pass a glance over the others, then looked again at Arial, and its mouth broke into a hideous, terrifying smile.

"Guten Abend, Arial," it purred in a hissing voice, its eyes going wide with mad glee as the tentacles growing from its shoulders writhed, "See anything familiar?"

"Nein nein nein nein nein…" Arial whimpered, tears welling up in his eyes, "This is a dream…it's just a dream…"

One of the monster's tentacles whipped around, faster than any of their eyes could follow, and hoisted Arial off floor, raising him high above the table.

"Professor Lavig has been looking for you," the monster sneered acidly.

It was at this point that Logan roared, leaping from his crouch, his adamantium claws flashing as he drove them deep into the fleshy muscle of the tentacle holding Arial. The monster let out a shriek of pain and lost his grip as he whipped about to meet the new threat, and Arial crashed to the floor.

"RUN!" Evan yelled. Arial didn't need to be told twice, scrambling to his feet and charging through the dining room door, his heart beating so wildly he thought it would burst. His tentacles curled against his back as he ran, quivering in fear, and the mansion began to blur around him, all the hallways blending into a distorted, blurry kaleidoscope of colors, and he heard the monster roar from somewhere behind him, furious at the loss of its prey.

Vhat IS that thing? his thoughts whirled in time with the blurring halls. If Vati sent it…but vhy does it look like…? Nein, he couldn't! He vouldn't!

"[ARIAL!]"

He nearly lost his balance from the force of the mental shout, and had to grab onto something nearby—was it a nightstand?—to stay upright.

Jean?

"[Head to the Danger Room! Logan showed you where it's located when he gave you the tour, right? Head there, you'll be safe! I'll initiate one of the mission simulations, to see if we can't confuse your…friend.]"

He stumbled as he broke into another run, darting down a hallway. He had no choice but to trust that Jean knew what she was doing, that this plan would work.

"You can't run from me, Arial! I'll find you! I'll catch you! I'll bring you back! It's why Professor Lavig created me in the first place!" he heard the monster shriek.

"YOU LEAVE ARIAL ALONE, YOU BIG BULLY!" screamed a voice he barely recognized, and at once his stomach rose to his chest, his vision spinning as a nauseous wave of vertigo assaulted him. Tiras. Tiras was yelling.

"Keep it up, fraulein!" he called back over his shoulder, desperately hoping that his friend's power was enough to stop his father's gruesome creation. But even as his feet took him closer and closer to the Danger Room, his stomach clenched in horror, and somehow he knew, he simply knew that abomination behind him was unstoppable.

"Keep running, Arial!" he heard the shouts from behind, coming from so many mouths he couldn't tell in his confusion who all was yelling it at him. He put on a fresh burst of speed when he saw the hall with the Danger Room, the doors opening to admit him. A brief flicker of hope flared in his chest as he leapt inside, the metallic landscape shimmering and whirring around him—

And suddenly it stopped, reverting to its normal appearance as a loud, alarm klaxon screamed and red lights flared in his eyes.

"Nein!" he cried.

"Oh, yes!" purred a rough voice behind him, and a second later he was struck in the small of his back, the air bursting from his lungs in a gasp as a massive weight drove him to the floor. His chest hit first, instinct making him turn his face aside at the last moment, the impact smashing him like a wall of bricks, and he half-worried he may have cracked a rib or two.

"Scheiβe!" the monster swore abruptly, and Arial heard a strange whirring sound. A quick glance up showed him mounted guns emerging from the walls and floor panels of the Danger Room. No wonder how it earned its name. Sucking a sharp breath in between his clenched teeth, he used the brief second of shock to break free of the monster, surging from underneath the foot pressed into his back and running away as fast as his feet could carry him, fear-born adrenaline pushing his tiring body past normal limits. But the monster wasn't finished. It let loose a roar of fury and he heard it sprinting behind him, its terrifying shadow growing rapidly, swallowing the hallway as it gained on him. He spun at the last second and darted down another passage, sprinting past several other doorways, and caught brief glimpses of the other mutants running toward him and his pursuer.

"ARIAL!" he heard Ashton yell from somewhere nearby, "GET OUTSIDE!"

His mind raced. They would have the advantage outside; they could surround the monster…but how—

He caught a glimpse outside a window. Somehow he had gotten on a second floor landing, fear wiping details from his mind, and below him, outside, there was a pool.

"The pool…" he murmured.

Safety.

He angled his body, throwing all his weight forward without breaking from his run, bringing his arms up to shield his face, ducking his head as the glass shattered on the impact. He pushed through the deadly fragments, which rained to the concrete below, momentum carrying him further, and for a moment, he seemed to hang in space. Somehow, some part of his brain kept working properly, and he pulled his legs in underneath him, angling them downward. Each second seemed an eternity, as though time slowed down in a way as he fell. And then the shocking cold battered him as he finally hit the water and sank beneath the surface.

Golden curls sinking slowly through the night…His mother's face, peaceful in spite of a horrid death...

A wreath of black thorns biting into the skin of her ring finger.

Panic bubbled in Arial's chest, and a second later, a dark shape broke the surface of the water, coming to float next to him, crimson eyes flashing in hate.

He yelped in fear, surging upward, his face breaking free as he sucked in a breath. He shouted, trying to call for help, but one of the monster's flesh-tentacles seized him from behind and yanked him back down, chlorine water filling his mouth. He choked, spitting the water back out and clamping his teeth shut on what precious little oxygen he had left. The creature's talons lunged for his face, but he moved to the side just in time, the tip of his nose barely getting grazed. Something deeper inside him, something primal, something animal, reared up. He couldn't run any more, but he could fight back.

His tentacles ripped free of the fabric on his shoulders and he thrust them forward, aiming for the monster's face. The red eyes widened in surprise and it howled as the octopus tentacles stung and cut through its cheek. Arial drew his tentacles back, preparing for another strike, but then he began to rise to the surface against his will. He broke free of the water, gasping and dripping wet, and continued to rise until he was hovering in the air.

"Was ist dies?" he yelped, and looked about wildly, finding Jean standing just in front of the shattered window, one hand outstretched toward him, the other pressing against her right temple, like she was nursing a headache, a tight frown forming on her features. Tiras came up right beside her, glaring down at the pool, and shrieked, a sound that rippled and danced on the air, and struck the space beneath Arial, just before the monster's flesh-tentacles, rising from the water, could close on him again. A chill ran down his spine. That had been too close for comfort.

"Arial, look out!" Jean suddenly cried, and he began to plummet toward the water again; she'd lost her telekinetic hold on him. He crashed into the pool again, used to the cold by now, and spun about. The monster seemed to rocket toward him through the water, as though his father had half-designed it to function like a torpedo.

And then a third body plunged into the pool, and Arial nearly yelled again. It was Ashton, his eyes dark with rage and his face set with grim determination. The monster came to an abrupt halt, glancing around to see the new threat, and Ashton closed the distance between them, removing one of his gloves as he swam, gently brushing his fingertips against the skin of the monster's flesh-tentacles. Almost immediately the thing screamed, ducking away from the contact and surging out of the pool as though it had been stung. Ashton fumbled with his glove for a second before swimming over and grabbing beneath one of Arial's arms, then pulled them both to the surface. Coughing and spluttering, Arial shook his sopping mane of curls and turned to the older boy.

"Vhat did you do to him?" he asked.

"Touched him," Ashton shrugged, "Guess he didn't like it."

"Coward." came the hiss.

Arial spun, turning to face the creature as it glared at him, pressed against a wall and far too dry for something that just emerged from water, its red eyes glinting maliciously.

"Coward," the monster repeated. "Hiding behind the powers of stronger mutants. Father was right. You're pathetic."

Anger boiled in Arial's stomach and he seized the bars of a nearby ladder, pulling himself up out of the pool. "Oh? Then vhat are you supposed to be, Herr Monster?"

It smiled cruelly, its tongue flicking over needle-sharp teeth, like it savored the information. "I'm you, big brother. I'm you…perfected."

A chill ran through the blonde boy at the words. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice was telling him his worst fear had been confirmed. He didn't know what to say, what to do. This…thing was him? Perfected? Certainly Edmund Lavig had enhanced it to be exceptionally powerful. But a perfect him? He raised a hand, pointing a shaking finger at the horror before him, and could only think to say—

"You have no nose."

The crimson eyes popped wide open with shock, twitching slightly, then narrowed in outrage.

"You son of a BITCH!" the monster screamed, pouncing for him, "I'm going to KILL YOU!"

Arial ran, desperate to put some space between them, but the monster was quicker and drove him painfully to the concrete anyway. He heard voices shouting his name, and realized the others had somehow arrived to help. He blinked against the pain, looking around to try to spot Ashton, but a powerful sweeping blow from the monster's tentacles batted the older boy aside.

"He's MINE!" the creature yelled, rolling Arial onto his back. The talons raised high into the air, glinting in the faint light, and the monster sneered.

"Time to die, big brother." it purred.

"Aaaaarrrrrrriiiiii!"

Time seemed to stop as terror racked Arial's chest.

"Nein…" he croaked in dismay.

"BAMBI!" Yana screamed.

The mutant toddler came into view, his cheeks puffed out in anger, and he headbutted the monster with his antlers, making it take a step back, hissing in pain.

"Bully!" Bambi yelled, plopping down onto his diapered bottom next to Arial. The creature snarled, red eyes locking onto the child, his tentacles arching high. Bambi's eyes widened and his lower lip began to quiver with a tiny sob. The monster reached for the toddler—

And was smacked in the side promptly with one of the folding deck chairs as Yana swung at him, yelling furiously in Russian.

"Vhat in the vorld…?" Arial murmured, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

"OW! Hey, watch it with the—OWW! Jesus, lady! YOW! OW OW OW OW OW!"

"YOU!" Yana screamed, punctuating each word with a smack from the folding chair, "LEAVE! BABY! ALONE!"

"OWW! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Knock it off with the chair already!" the monster whimpered, curling into a tight ball on the ground, desperately trying to fend off any further blows. Its hair tendrils writhed in pain and a sliver of light bounced off them, catching Arial's eye. Sudden realization dawned on him.

"Yana!" he yelled. "I think there's a control chip on him!"

"What?" she asked, looking up and smacking the creature again for good measure.

"A metal ring!" Arial yelled. "Vati uses them to control his specimens! I think it's in his flesh-hair! Get it off!"

Yana spun, hesitated, then yanked at the creature's head. It gave one last howl of pained protest, then something pulled free in a tiny spray of blood and Yana hefted a dark metal ring into the air.

"Bracelet!" Bambi giggled, clapping his pudgy hands.

"Hurts…" the monster whimpered. Blinking, Arial sat up, vaguely aware of the others rushing toward him, coming to his side, and stared at the monster. It shuddered, child-like squeaks emanating from what could have passed for a 21-year-old man, and looked up at him, the crimson light gone.

"Calibhaan hurts…" it whispered.

But he couldn't hear its child's plea. He could only see his own eyes—his own blue, wide eyes, streaming with tears—staring out at him from that terrifying face.

His vision spun and he pitched forward, the world swallowed up by darkness.