Mutant Town:

The situation ever since Magneto had successfully taken over Genosha had deteriorated considerably, with scuffles between local mutants and police officers becoming more and more frequent and large areas of Mutant Town effectively abandoned by the authorities as the situation grew more and more untenable. As the authorities had been retreating slowly from the area, mutant gangs and militias had become more and more common.

The Omegas were only one of those groups, though Quentin liked to think they were probably the first and certainly the most important group of their kind. The best, certainly, though I guess it's not really a competition. As it happened, the Omegas were having a clandestine meeting with one of the other mutant gangs, some group called the Morlocks that apparently liked to hang out in some abandoned subway station underneath Mutant Town. Whatever, it's cool, I guess.

"Hey, Redneck, Glob, Angel, keep your eyes peeled. In case things go south." Not that he thought they would. They had a shared agenda, after all. Mutant Town to the fuckin' mutants. Time the city buggered off for good.

"You speak as if you did not want things to deteriorate, Sir Knave." Callisto practically purred, coming out of dark shadows, strangely invisible to Quentin's telepathy. "I was under the impression you came here with the cloak of Mars, ready to write our destiny with a bloody quill."

"Damn right I want to fuck shit up, baby." Quentin replied with a cocksure grin. "I'm getting really, really tired of sitting around and waiting for them to come take us away. I figure we take what we need now, before they're ready to sick the giant killbots on us. And smaller ones too, ones that can follow you into your precious tunnels."

"I'faith, I am weary to death of hiding from humans who despise us." Callisto replied. "How many followers do you have?"

"About a dozen in the Omega Gang itself, but trust me, when we start kicking up a shitstorm, others will follow. You?" Quentin looked around. She'd clearly brought a couple of followers, one particularly large looking fellow and another, paler individual who looked at them with huge colourless eyes.

"A few dozen outfitted for war, but hundreds more under my care." Callisto tilted her head slightly, her one good eye gleaming slightly mischievously. "You will raise your banners, then? Paint anarchy's crimson hue on the streets? I will not commit mine own until I see the cause is worthy."

"Oh, don't you worry, baby. Don't you worry about that. You'll have your fuckin' anarchy." Quentin smirked smugly. "People are ready to rise up. And across that sea, there sits Magneto. Far as I'm concerned, he's the only guy with any right to tell us to do things."

"I prefer to take my own counsel, Sir Knave, but be that as it will, I look forward to seeing this riot of yours. When do you intend to begin? I hope it is soon. I grow weary with inaction." Callisto occupied her hands with a pair of extremely sharp blades.

"Tomorrow night." Quentin replied and then smirked, looking her up and down. Yeah, she was a little older than he was, but the whole punk goddess thing and the eyepatch? He could definitely get into that. "But you know, if you want to get something else started …"

"You'd best hold your tongue lest I take your stones." Callisto countered with a grin that didn't look at all friendly. "Like a blushing virgin, there's another whom I await. Tomorrow night, then, Sir?"

"Twenty-four hours from now, babe, we are gonna light it up." Quentin grinned broadly. "That's a promise."

X-Mansion:

Charles Xavier had a massive, throbbing headache, one that he knew would not go away anytime soon, regardless of what medication he took. If Erik … If Magneto, for clearly that was whom the man preferred to be known as now told the world about him being a mutant, it would create a panic. It would positively endanger him and everyone he worked with. It wasn't about whether choosing not to reveal his identity was morally right or not, it was simply that the revelation of that fact, particularly now would result in a lot of very serious problems.

He knew that his credibility as a 'neutral' observer was gone, almost immediately and Magneto went so far as to specify his mutation, it would cast even graver doubts in the minds of many. It would make the situation with the school seem clannish and exclusionary, even though he'd never mandated that only mutants attend either the Xavier Institute for the Gifted or the Institute for Higher Education. He suspected that many of the relatively few non-mutant students in the school would end up leaving, either due to their parents' perceptions or by their fears of social reaction.

Charles Xavier took a deep breath and then took a sip of his tea. It was right then, exactly when he expected, that Scott, Ororo and Hank came in- the most senior members of the X-Men and all people whom he trusted implicitly. He gestured for them to sit down.

"As some of you no doubt anticipated, my discussion with Magneto did not go well. To be blunt, I believe he is committed to building and expanding upon Genosha as soon as possible. He has, furthermore, made clear that he intends to tell the world that I am a mutant."

Scott's jaw set hard. An expression of deep concern flickered across Ororo's face. Hank, for his part, removed his spectacles and looked like he was considering an answer for some time.

"Charles, if he is so intent on telling the world anyway, it may not be unwise for you to preempt his announcement. I understand very well the utilitarian value of your cover, but it would be amiss for me to say that there are those who do not appreciate it overmuch, in the student body. Or the faculty. Perhaps, some hard truths are in order? Even if the timing is wretched." Hank finally said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Are we sure that's not what Magneto wants?" Scott asked, brow furrowed.

"I admit that I do not know him as well as you all do. However, he does not seem to be the sort of man who makes idle threats." Ororo pointed out. "I think Hank is right, in that the only realistic solution is to address the issue straightaway."

Scott nodded. "Control the narrative as much as possible. Magneto wants it to become a dualism. You versus him. He feels confident that he can win that argument in the hearts and minds of mutants, and unlike us, he cares little what non-mutants think."

Charles sighed- they were right, even if it was difficult for him to get up and make the call. "Well, at least Ms. Tilby will be happy about this."

"... I suppose so. Why does the only reasonably sympathetic figure in the press just have to be my ex-girlfriend?" Hank shook his head, managing a tiny smile at the absurdity of it. "Small world, I suppose."

Genosha:

"He said … what?" Magneto's eyes narrowed. "And what did you tell him, Wanda?"

Wanda looked at him levelly. "I told him I would consider his offer. And I am. If it's really so essential that we receive his help, is it truly the worst offer. He made it certain he expects little of me, personally. In any case, Doom said he will grant a year's time for me to assist you in sorting out business on Genosha."

"Time to renegotiate, I suppose." Magneto replied. "Would you truly marry that man? Latveria is not your place. Genosha is."

"I would consider doing so if it were necessary." Wanda paused. "Is it really so much worse than anything else we've done to secure this mutant homeland?"

"Perhaps not." Magneto finally answered, though it was clear from his tone that he did not like the idea one bit. "In any case … there are more immediate concerns. The American government has moved to initiate Operation Wideawake. Sentinels will be unleashed upon the streets of America, to hunt down our people like dogs and throw them in camps." The entire throne room began to vibrate at a slightly strange pitch. Wanda could feel his anger as a palpable force, buzzing about in her teeth.

"How do you intend to answer this provocation, Father?" Wanda asked, her own anger cooller than his own.

"I had entertained hopes of leaving America and its President largely to its own devices. This will clearly have to change." Magneto looked over at Wanda. "They will expect me to strike in New York, in Mutant Town. We will do everything we can to encourage that perception. But our real target will be Washington."

"For what purpose, precisely?" Wanda raised her eyebrow.

"I want the President, alive- for the time being. There are also … figures in the government and the military-industrial complex I want eliminated. By unleashing the Sentinels, the American government has declared war on all mutants." Magneto's eyes flashed with righteous anger. "History will record that I did not start this war. But it will be written that I finished it."

Washington DC:

It had been a good week for Senator Kelly so far- the President's poll numbers had tanked with the tankover of Genosha by Magneto and the implementation of Operation Wideawake was being successfully spun as a half-measure. Kelly's own numbers had improved considerably and there had been a sizeable shift on the mutant issue among important sectors of the American public.

There was certainly a part of him that felt that it was wrong to exult over the very real and understandable fear of his fellow citizens. He reminded himself, though, that it was necessary and really only a symptom of people discovering the grim truth that had been hidden from them by others. The bad taste of Creed's lamentable performance against Xavier was already fading from the public consciousness and Creed himself had learned some necessary restraint.

One of the few things that concerned him, still, was Charles Xavier. Xavier was a likeable, intelligent man who knew how to play to an audience without letting them see that he was pandering. Kelly tended to regard the man as well-meaning but misguided- but dangerously so, because he led other people down the path to compromise. Xavier's numbers had remained solid in the developing situation so far, and an upcoming appearance on the Colbert Report was going to do nothing to change that, particularly with young people. Charles polled very, very well with 18-34 year olds, Kelly had to admit to his chagrin.

He was currently in a diner, pondering his next move. He had a meeting with his exploratory committee, though he'd long since committed to making a move- it was more about finding potential fundraising and identifying political allies. Events had done a fine job of galvanizing his campaign, with the President's credibility falling further and further. If only something similar could happen with Xavier … it was then that his eyes wandered up to a live television broadcast from ANN.

When he read the byline on the news ticker his eyes immediately widened and he reached in his pocket to get the phone. He immediately dialled Reverend Stryker. Will has to know this, immediately.

"Reverend? Are you watching the news?" Kelly immediately blurted out, without even the most recent pleasantries. "You won't believe what I'm seeing."

"Hold on." Stryker replied and then all Kelly could hear for a moment was heavy breathing. "... I knew it. No man could be so misguided as Xavier. He's a mutant. The enemy." He emphasized the word enemy to suggest it had spiritual dimensions as well as political ones. Kelly wasn't sure if he quite bought into the Reverend's worldview on that score. But it did mark Xavier as a dangerous and subversive political actor. "Bob, you need to pounce on this. The secular media dismisses me, but they won't dismiss you. Let me handle the other dimensions of this."

"The other dimensions?" Kelly hesistated before asking.

"Bob, do not be mistaken about what we face here. We are at war. You fight the mutant enemy in the political arena. That is your gift and your calling. I need you to trust me, Bob. And don't inquire too far. Some things are going to happen and I want you to be able to deny them. Stay the course. Your nation needs you. Your species needs you to stay strong and on course. Can you do that?" Stryker asked, his tone dead serious.

Kelly took a deep breath and then nodded. "I'll drum up a political whirlwind, Will. I don't know why Xavier chose this moment to reveal his true identity, but I'll ensure he loses every ounce of credibility he's gained on the Hill."

"Good." Stryker replied. "Jesus be with you. Talk to Him, and then get on the phone to everyone you know. Everyone. Even the people who respected him. Many of them, God willing, will be changing their minds."

"Well, I've got a busy day ahead of me, Will. I'll talk to you soon. We'll do lunch sometime." Kelly promised, before considering who he was going to call first.

Xavier Institute for Higher Education, Mutant Town:

Yesterday's revelation that Charles Xavier was secretly a mutant had placed a strange pall on the community, but one thing that Ali Blaire never, ever did was cancel a concert, not if she had the ability to sing even a single note. A few members of her band were nervous, but they'd been relieved somewhat when Charles had sent them a pair of handpicked security officers, both superpowered mutants in their own right, who had been police officers until very recently.

Ali strummed a few chords on her guitar, unable not to smile slightly as the sounds translated into faint sparkles and whorls of light in the air. She strummed a little harder and both the sounds and images became clearer, louder. When she started to sing, the light surrounded her like a halo, with streamers of it breaking off from her, floating up into the air, and falling down like rain. She turned up the amplifier and a cascade of brilliant sparks, almost like fireworks, came shooting out of her speakers.

At least the light show works. Hopefully the techs have the stage set up properly.

"... Ms. Blaire?" Her manager called out to her. "You got another package from that Arcade guy. Five dozen roses and another huge diamond necklace … you want me to sell it for charity again?"

Ali sighed harshly and nodded. "Yeah, Ben. Give half to the rebuilding fund for the mutant shelter and, maybe the other half to that Girls Rock music education program? Did the creep send a note this time or does he think there's some sort of price I put on my love? And why the hell haven't we figured out who he is?"

"Whoever he is, he's good at covering his tracks online. Really good. And rich too, because this is probably ten thousand dollars of necklace." Her manager considered it for a moment. "Look, if this guy ever shows his face, he'll be in a cell faster than you can say 'stalker'. We'll find the creep."

"Yeah, soon, I hope." Ali shook her head a little. "Anyway, I got a show. The weird bullshit of my personal life can wait for awhile. These people need some cheering up, yeah?"

"Well, if anyone can deliver on that, it's you, Ali. We're live in two hours." Her manager managed a small grin. "We're expecting a big crowd. Not too many reasons to celebrate here, lately."

Ali played a few notes on her guitar before launching into a brief solo. "Well, it's time they got some Dazzler in their ears, then. Because we're gonna rock their world."

Xavier Institute for Higher Education, Central Square:

"... you can stop grinnin' like a loon, half-pint. This is a job." Logan scowled, lighting up his third cigar of the night. Damn, I should have brought a few bottles of Crown. I'm gonna need it after listenin' to this crap for two hours.

"Shut up, this is the best job ever. I mean, barring some disaster, it's a nice night and I get to see Dazzler. For free. And maybe even go backstage and get an autograph. Logan, I could meet her." Kitty gushed with a giant grin on her face. "My favorite. And I'm basically her security. I mean, we're almost working for her."

"Thought you liked Rush." Logan noted gruffly, before taking a long puff of his cigar.

"... I do! They're my favorite old band. But Dazzler is current, Dazzler is now, Logan." Kitty grinned and took a sip from what was, out of unfortunate necessity, a Coke. "Anyway, you're gonna just have to put up with my fangirlism, because we're here until an hour after the show ends."

Logan tried his best after that to tune Kitty out. He had a distinctly bad feeling about this- was it really a good idea to have a major public gathering with so many things going on? Logan understood that people probably needed something to lift their spirits. Just have a real feeling that nothing good's gonna come out of tonight. A big, mostly but far from entirely mutant crowd meant huge potential for a confrontation. If he were a Purifier, he'd probably pick this out as an ideal time to strike, to say nothing about if the Brotherhood or its sympathizers struck again.

Logan's hand itched, the way it often did when he knew that trouble was brewing. He knew it was essentially psychological, but it still felt real. It was the feeling of his claws when they knew they were going to come out. Sometimes, he was certain, when they wanted to come out. Annoying as Kitty's idealism can be sometimes, sometimes I wish I could be that innocent. Logan knew that was a little unfair and not really true- the girl had seen her share of tough shit go down in her life, but she'd never killed another person. Or watched someone she loves die, because of who you are. The trouble you bring.

He took a long puff of his cigar. At this rate, before the night was over, he was going to go through a solid dozen of them. Part of him actually wished that something would go down, so he wouldn't have to deal with the prolonged misery of a terrible pop concert and an excessively excitable young woman. At least if someone's trying to kill me with a gun or a knife I can fight back.

It was then that he saw the big guy out of the corner of his eye, moving with real purpose through the crowd. Logan sniffed the air- he didn't recognize the scent personally, but he knew the look of trouble when he saw it. And the little punk with him smelled even worse- and that wasn't just the hideously enormous quantity of Old Spice the kid was wearing, either. It was the smell of someone who wanted to start something big. The arrogant sneer on the kid's face didn't look any better.

Logan decided that he'd keep a close eye on those two. Could be they're just looking for a brawl or something. It was just then that the sound levels began to kick up dramatically as the opening act began to play. Which also meant that the crowds were going to get a lot thicker.

Elsewhere near the Concert:

Hank had long ago got used to being stared at, being considered a freak by those who hated mutants and as a curiosity even by those who more sympathetic. In truth, he could understand their attitudes to a considerable extent. He didn't really look anything like an ordinary human being. He'd got used to it, he liked to tell himself, but he always noticed it.

He was very, very aware then that his erstwhile partner had been looking at him nearly the entire time. It had been understandable at first, but it was beginning to get frustrating, and when he'd turned around to look at her, she didn't even bother to avert her eyes. A low little growl came from his throat.

"Yes, I am exceptionally large, blue and furry. It is still exceedingly impolite to stare like that, Ms. Braddock." Hank turned around, that low growl carrying through the rest of his tone.

And then? She laughed, a husky, silky sound and her eyes watched his. "My apologies, Dr. McCoy. I was just curious about something."

"... and what, pray tell is that?" Hank asked, his eyebrow raised but his tone still slightly annoyed.

"I was wondering about your fur." Betsy elucidated, a thin smile playing at her lips, and Hank didn't think it was fair that she was so outrageously attractive, because it was making being properly annoyed more and more difficult.

"Fine." Hank sighed, waving vaguely with his hand. "What do you want to know about my fur?"

"I want to know if it's soft. It looks soft, Doctor." Betsy replied, her think smile turning into a wicked grin.

Oh.

It was not all that common for Hank to have one of those 'light bulb' moments that other people typically assumed that he had all the time. Either he figured out a problem quickly due to prior knowledge or he had to apply himself for a period to understand the issue at hand. Inspiration paled in importance to perseverance and the benefits of an excellent education. But every once in awhile, something happened and things became so much clearer. Suddenly, rather than being annoyed at Betsy staring at him, Hank was decidedly flattered. More than flattered, really. The word 'flattered' was weak and inadequate by comparison.

"Not without dinner and a movie first." Hank grinned right back.

Betsy rolled her eyes but then smiled at him. "Late night Thai, after the concert?"

"It would be my pleasure, Ms. Braddock." Hank replied with a broad grin, offering her his arm. "Shall we get into place for the show?"

"Let's." Betsy grinned brilliantly at him.

Front and Centre, Dazzler Concert:

Quentin Quire absolutely, positively, fucking hated Dazzler. Her insidious and miserable melodies had this horrible habit of sticking in his head, even though her music was a pathetic joke. He slipped on his favorite Spider Jerusalem glasses, the ones that made him feel like a badass rebel, about to unload truth. Which he was. He was going to crash this ridiculous, loathsome party and make his place in history.

Even Magneto in freaking Genosha will know my name when this is all said and done. I'm the fuckin' spark that is going to start this fire.

The crowd was occupied, mindless sheep eagerly lapping up the corporate shit-pop that they were being spoon-fed. He knew that his moment was nearing, the time at which Quentin Quinn Quire- his parents loved alliteration- was going to make his debut on the world stage. From now on, he wasn't going to be known as Quentin Quire, miserable punk and general failure. He took a breath and started climbing up on stage. Some of Dazzler's security moved to intercept him, but then they couldn't see him, as if he'd disappeared.

Score one for telepathy, motherfuckers!

He climbed up triumphantly onto the stage where a stunned Dazzler turned around, ready to do her horrible mutant thing when he blasted her, full in the face with a psionic shotgun that appeared instantly in his hand. With a swift little move, he blasted two more of her guards. All three of them then lay around him, motionless. The band, and any others on the stage started running. Quentin grabbed the microphone.

"My name is Kid Omega and tonight, Mutant Town belongs to us! Fuck the government! Fuck Xavier! Fuck peace! Fuck lying and hiding! We're going to take what belongs to us! WHO IS WITH ME?!"

Morlock Tunnels:

A thin woman with outsized ears finally opened her eyes after long concentration and turned towards Callisto. "The punk has made his move. There is chaos at the university campus."

Callisto smirked thinly. "Then, we rise! Stand up, brother and sister Morlocks, for tonight, we seize the very heavens! The sun and stars wilt be ours again, as it should always have been! No longer will we need to be masked and hidden in these hellish warrens! On this night, we go to claim what is truly ours!"

Callisto's speech was met with a lusty roar from the Morlocks, men and women that she'd chosen for their strike force. Quire and his Omega Gang would draw attention, law enforcement, any superheroes- but in truth, it was her and the Morlocks that were far more dangerous and numerous. Quire's gang had their delusions of grandeur, but the Morlocks were fuelled by something far more dangerous and powerful- desperation, poverty, and hatred for those who dwelled upon the surface, those who oppressed their kind.

The Morlocks came out of their sewers, intent on wreaking havoc and seizing power in Mutant Town. She'd handpicked a crew of Morlocks to go with her on a special mission, into a facility owned by Shaw Industries in Mutant Town, where data had been collected on mutants for years, where it was rumoured, long-running experiments on mutants occurred. She took out two knives, eager to test their sharpness against the flesh of those that would use her people, and others, just as she'd been so cruelly used years ago.

Whatever does not kill me makes me stronger.

Oh, my dear, we will see about that.

Callisto could still hear that voice in her nightmares, feel those long fingers touching her, his scalpel drawing itself delicately along her flesh. Removing parts, augmenting others. She remembered the Doctor, sipping tea nonchalantly as she bled and screamed on the operation table. He would discuss, dispassionately, the merits of a particular brand of wine as his men tortured and experimented on her. She remembered him calmly explaining, as a parent would to a confused child, that he'd taken eggs from her and fertilized them- that he'd made her children. And then how one day, his mercenaries shot her and threw her out on the streets to die.

One day I will find him, Callisto swore, even if I must crash down the very gates of Hell. I will exact from him everything he took from me. I'll put him to every test and torment that man or woman can devise and then, only when he begs for death's kiss, brokenly begs like a starving dog, will I finally slide my steely blade through his ribs into his butcher's heart.

"Sunder, takest thou the rear. Berserker, Marrow, you must watch over our sides. Caliban, stay close and tell me if you scent our kind. Hemingway and the rest of you, now is the time to vent our spleen upon an unsuspecting world! Morlocks … forward!"

Xavier Institute, Mutant Town:

Almost immediately after the pink-haired punk had stepped on the stage, things had gone straight to Hell. Logan had almost immediately been jumped by a pair of blue mutants with strange smoking skin. They'd managed to grasp him briefly and he'd felt his skin freeze, but what they didn't count on was that his healing factor would resist it long enough for him to break free, and that those claws of his were more than capable of slicing through any manner of flesh.

I'm pretty sure they'll live. Not that I care that much, really. But I'll play nice. For now.

For the most part, however, the crush had become so intense that Logan didn't really even have room to use his claws properly, he mostly relied on adamantium-reinforced knuckles and determination to batter down one rioter after another. He suspected that the punk, whoever he was, was doing something to the crowd, because they shouldn't all be this damn violent. He turned around to see Kitty scampering through the crowd towards the stage, probably trying to see if Dazzler and her security crew were all right.

He turned around to dodge a beer bottle being brought down against his head and was slightly surprised to see his would-be attackers fainting away, about six or seven of them at a time. He was relieved, though, to see that it was Braddock behind it, who looked a little rumpled but unhurt, all things considered. Immediately behind her was Hank.

"Good ta see you two. Half-pint's checking on Dazzler and the crew. If we can get any of `em up, we might get some extra reinforcements." Logan cracked his knuckles. "Any luck callin' reinforcements? Sure wouldn't mind seein' Roro or Petey right about now."

"I managed to contact the Professor via telepathy." Betsy replied. "Damned bastards. I had a date planned for tonight."

"As it happened, so did I. Perhaps we'll have to reschedule our respective dates?" Hank couldn't help but smile slightly. "But first, we have a riot to quell, somehow. Elisabeth, how many people can you affect at once?"

"Not enough." Betsy replied. "The crowd was already angry and tense. Quire just has to nudge them. I'd have to bring them down a long way. We need to find the little arse and take him down."

Logan sniffed the air. "Bad news. More mutants and they're smelling pissed-off as all hell. And like they've been in a sewer."

Concert Stage:

Ali felt like she'd been hit with a ton of bricks and then exposed to every single bad memory she'd ever had, including that time when the dentist forgot anesthetic, the time she'd had to stand outside alone in the rain for two hours because her parents had forgot to pick her up and that time she'd accidentally eaten all those spiked brownies. All at once. She groggily sat up.

"... where's that little punk?" She mumbled, to a blurry form that was beginning to resemble a brunette wearing a Dazzler tank top and jeans.

"Oh my God. How do you feel?" The girl asked, and Ali realized that she was clearly a huge fan.

"Horrible." Ali got shakily to her feet and then instantly regretted it.

"Yeah, you should. Because you fucking suck!" Quentin crowed in triumph, as he came out from the shadows and immediately fired another blast from his glowing cannon. However, Ali was taken out of the way of the blast and down through the floor to under the stage.

"You should be safe here, for awhile." The girl said. "... and that guy's an idiot. You're the best. I'm Kitty Pryde, by the way."

Ali nodded faintly. "Nice to meet you … but …" She shook her head, as if getting rid of the nightmarish thoughts. "I shouldn't just stay out of this. Fans of mine are suffering here. Hey, are you one of the X-Men?"

"... yeah. The junior member, I guess." Kitty replied.

Ali grinned. "Big fan of your work. What's your superhero name?"

"Shadowcat." Kitty replied with wide eyes. "No way. You can't be a fan- I mean, you can, but … that's so damn cool. I'm a fan of yours."

"I gathered." Ali smirked faintly. "C'mon, Shadowcat. Let's go find that jackass. Nobody disses me like that. Or shoots weird mind guns at me."

Kitty phased them up on the other side of the stage, with Quentin still almost comically looking for them. Ali whistled as loudly as she could and just as he turned around to blast them both with his strange glowing weapon, the punkish mutant was hit by a blinding flash of light. Before he had any chance to recover, Kitty had closed the difference between them, delivering a lightning-swift roundhouse kick right to the jaw that sent the mutant telepath to the floor, completely and utterly unconscious.

"... Shadowcat, huh?" Ali whistled, impressed ."Are all of you X-Men ninjas like that?"

Kitty looked down at the crowd, which didn't seem to be calming down any. In fact, it looked like a significantly greater number of hostile mutants had joined in, fanning out to destroy parts of the campus. Her jaw set.

"... you wanna do the X-Man for a day thing? Because we're gonna need all the help we can get."

Near the Xavier Institute Campus:

"So basically a bunch of our friends are surrounded by yet another hostile mob of our fellow mutants. Oh wonderful. Man, people love us." Bobby sighed. "Well, what's the plan, fearless leader."

Scott looked at Ororo. "I want you to get airborne and try and cool this crowd down. Might not stop them completely, but some freezing rain might slow them down some. The rest of us, we'll need to get into the mix to figure out what's happening. Kurt, run recon. Bobby, get ready to set up barriers, slides, anything that can get us to control their movement. Piotr, get ready to clear us a path through the crowd."

The X-Men didn't get far, however, before they were faced with a large collection of angry-looking mutants, several of them armed with improvised weapons. Ororo and Kurt's eyes opened wide in recognition.

"Callisto … what is the meaning of this?" Ororo asked, her eyes narrowing in anger. "You're putting all of your people in grave danger." The skies darkened and cold rain began to fall all around them.

"Your sorcery doth not frighten me, neither do your fellow villains." Callisto's own eyes narrowed and she grinned maliciously, brandishing her knives. "I am sorry, though, fair lord. I'd hoped we could dance upon a more horizontal plane. But Mars must suffice where Venus failed."

The assembled Morlocks, at least a dozen of them closed onto the X-Men, one of them firing an arc of vicious-looking electricity at Scott, another one hurling raging flames at Bobby. A singularly massive Morlock advanced towards Piotr, cracking his knuckles in rough glee, clearly looking forward to a fight. Scott managed to blast the electricity-producing Morlock away from him, but he frowned. We're badly outnumbered and we haven't even got into the thick of the riot.

"Hey Tinman!" Sunder called out brashly, moving over to Piotr, who armoured up defensively. "I hear you're the big tough guy on the team."

"I am often called such, yes." Piotr replied in a flat tone.

"Yeah, well … you're just a little man who's gonna get their ass kicked!" Sunder crowed out triumphantly as he swung his fist with surprising speed right into Piotr's chest- though the sound that stuck out was the sound of shattering bones and a sudden howl of agony as Sunder immediately staggered back, cradling a bleeding and obviously badly broken hand. It took less than a second for Piotr's own blow to decisively knock the big Morlock out.

Not all of the X-Men were having such an easy time as Piotr, however, Scott had yet to be able to hit Callisto with anything, and she'd advanced steadily closer. Kurt teleported in to intercept her, but she managed, somehow, to elbow him in the split second that he had manifested before he was to teleport again, winding the German mutant. Bobby was too busy with the fiery mutant to do anything about it and Storm was high above the fray at the moment.

Callisto flitted to the side and Scott let loose another optic blast, only to realize that he'd been tricked into shooting Piotr. Scott doubted the optic blast would do him any real harm, but it also meant that Piotr was blasted a good distance away from where he needed to be. Scott cursed under his breath as Callisto got even closer. He braced, ready to defend himself, but in a blur too quick for him to register, all he felt was cold metal slicing across his arm and shoulder, the steely kiss biting deep into his flesh.

The last thing he saw was a steel-toed boot striking up towards his face, before everything went black.

Xavier Institute Campus:

The arrival of a small army of Morlocks had changed the tenor of the riot, from something that was simply an expression of frustration and anger, goaded by a telepath, into a corrosive display of deeply seated anger and hatred. The local authorities had made themselves conspicuous through their absence, for all intents and purposes, it was the X-Men who represented any force of law and order.

The situation had degenerated into a stalemate, though Ororo feared that the longer it lasted, the more the tide of battle would favor the more numerous Morlocks. Retreat, however, was not an option. To do so would be leave not only the Xavier Institute campus open to wanton destruction, it would convince all who were observing the situation that mutants had no ability or will to police themselves. The crackdown that followed, most likely, would be a brutal one.

And one harder on the Morlocks than anyone else, she knew. She didn't know why Callisto had chosen this moment to rise up, but surely she knew that the Morlocks could not win, even if they defeated the X-Men. What is their goal? Magneto's agenda was a clear one, and he had the power to make it a reality. The Morlocks had neither advantage. The aftermath would be a devastating one for them, apocalyptic.

There is only one way to stop this, Storm decided. With a crack of lightning, she settled down to the ground, facing Callisto.

"This madness must end." Ororo warned her grimly.

"... an' while I have the crown, my storm will rage on." Callisto replied with a half-crazed grin. "You'll have to kill me."

"I challenge you to a duel. For the leadership of the Morlocks." Ororo replied coolly.

"What? With your weather witchery? Hardly a contest of honor." Callisto spat. "If you'll meet me, do it with knives. I'll even give you one of mine."

"Very well." Ororo's face took on a grim cast. She glared around at the other X-Men. "Leave me alone."

Callisto smirked coldly and tossed a knife into the air towards Ororo, which she caught handily. Ororo's eyes narrowed as she saw the blade, stained with blood. The fighting around them had stopped, which did allow Hank to tend to the broad slash on Scott's arm. The expression on her face changed to something that none of the other X-Men had seen before on her, something hard and ruthless.

"... hold on, why are you doin' this, `Roro?" Logan barked out. "We can take `em."

"And then what, Logan? They are defeated and arrested. Police come to steal the children and old people. They lose everything, their entire community, gone in a heartbeat. The Morlocks need a new leader." Ororo ripped off a strip of her uniform and washed the blade clean.

"Your greed reeks to the highest of heavens. I think the only scent that shall wash it clean is your blood!" Callisto crowed as she moved towards, Ororo, her blade flashing as she made exploratory jabs, ones that Ororo countered, though her own attacks were just as easily dodged by Callisto.

"Uh, what happens … what happens if Ororo loses?" Bobby asked nervously.

"Then I cut Callisto's guts out. " Logan replied, his voice a low growl in his throat. "Roro's got it, though."

Ororo did not quite share Logan's confidence. She was gratified to find out that her old skills were as sharp as ever, but the brutal fact of the matter was that Callisto was stronger, faster and probably the more experienced fighter out of the two. She has only one weakness. She's bound by her honour. Ororo didn't exactly enjoy fighting dirty, but if it meant she could save the Morlocks, end the riot and walk away from the fight? A breeze so subtle it was nearly invisible brought a fine dust of broken glass, shattered rocks and ordinary sand which she flung fully into Callisto's face.

Callisto cried out in pain as the fine dust got into her eyes, nose, mouth- Ororo knew that Callisto would recover in time, but she was certain the pain would've been horrifying. Ororo took the chance to drive her knee into Callisto's gut. When the Morlock woman crumpled to the ground, Ororo stabbed Callisto's wrist into the asphalt, forcing her to let go of the blade in that hand.

"... you've taken your prize." Callisto managed to get out, with blood oozing from her mouth. "Send me screaming to the devil an' you'll have mine small principality."

"No." Storm replied firmly. "As the new leader of the Morlocks, I demand that you and your kin retreat back to your tunnels, where you will remain for the time being. I appoint you to act as the leader of the Morlocks in my stead, that is, once you've recovered."

Logan whistled lowly. "Damn, `Roro, didn't know you had it in you."

"... it is something I had to do, not one I am happy to have done." Ororo sighed. "I … dislike violence, but to stop this madness?" She sighed harshly. "With the Morlocks retreating, any other rioters should disperse and go home. As soon as possible, we should do the same."

Purity International Headquarters:

Half-measures. More wretched half-measures.

Many of of his people believed that the inauguration of Operation Wideawake was a great victory, but William Stryker knew better. It was all well and good to have defenders capable of taking on the devil-spawn mutants, yes, but he had to admit he was somewhat uncomfortable having robots do the work of godly men. It was clear, also, that the current President- as long as he was in power, would continue to undermine the holy work that had been done. One more soul cast into the abyss.

There was also the all-important issue of Charles Xavier to consider. Stryker had always regarded him as a dangerous false prophet, but now he was beginning to wonder if Xavier and Magneto together were the Anti-Christ. Clearly the two both had to be destroyed, at all costs. Stryker pondered the three-dimensional map for a moment.

"I want that university destroyed completely, and I want it accomplished as soon as possible. The university is a linchpin of Mutant Town. Without it, it will be plunged into a material poverty as dire as its spiritual one. Once that is accomplished, my friends, I believe it imperative that we eliminate the Westchester school as well.

Many of their soldiers of faith would be somewhat hesitant to so openly defy the secular law in such an attack, but they simply needed to be reminded that their obligations to God came before those to Caesar. It would certainly be a dangerous move, but Xavier's infection was closer to home than Magneto's, which he had to confess was out of his mortal power at the moment. God would deal with Magneto in his own due time of course, which Stryker could only hope would be soon.

And what role will you play in this great drama, Bastion?

Stryker was grateful for the Frenchman and his ability to draw together people with the same goals from widely distant backgrounds and inclinations, but still he could not quite trust the man. He's not godly, like Robert or Graydon is. Neither was Donald Pierce of course, but Pierce's hatred was clearly stemmed largely from personal sources. It wasn't pure, but it was useful. But Bastion did not seem to be motivated by any sort of real hatred. The man seemed fundamentally cold and distant, bemused by mutants even as he worked towards their destruction.

Stryker resolved to pray for the man, so that he could be born again in Christ. While the crusade against mutantkind took up the greater part of his attention, while it was certainly going to be what he'd been remembered for on heaven and earth, he knew that deep in his heart, ridding the world of mutants would only be one step towards the regeneration of the Earth. Until Christ has dominion over all parts of the world, and all souls, this is still a wretched, broken, damned world.

There was something, however, that was continuing to gall Stryker to no end. Shaw. He'd learned about the man's mutation some time ago from Pierce- a fact that had nearly caused him to pull out of the project. He'd been convinced to stay on board by Bastion, who pointed out that it was hardly unprecedented for one's enemies to work diligently and unwittingly towards their own destruction. But now that the man has largely finished building and testing the Sentinels, why should I tolerate his existence any further?

Stryker would send the order down the chain of command. The elimination of Sebastian Shaw would become a priority of the Purity Movement.

Genosha:

"Hey, Mom." Rogue smiled as she landed next to Irene, giving her a warm smile. "Hope I haven't kept you waitin' for long. I was just out flying. Not too many days I get totally off these days. Who woulda thought making a nation was such hard work?" Rogue's smile faded though as she looked over at her mother. "Are you okay, Mom?"

"Anna-Marie." Irene finally said, turning towards her. Most of the time, she did not particularly mind being blind, but sometimes it hurt. She knew that her Anna-Marie, her Rogue had become a beautiful young woman, she sensed it, she'd been told by many people, but sometimes she wished she could see it. "I hope you know how incredibly proud I am, of the woman you're becoming."

"... Mom? What's that mean?" Rogue wished that she could brush it off as her mother being maybe a little over-sentimental, but Irene wasn't like that, normally. And she could see things as well.

"You're going to have to make some very difficult choices soon. You're going to be given an opportunity, for help with your powers, to meet new friends, to become the brave, smart heroic woman I know you can be. You won't find that here in Genosha … Raven won't understand that. Maybe one day she will." Irene looked at her daughter. "But I'm so afraid, because if you do what you need to, I'm going to lose you."

"... what are you talking about? I'd never leave you or Momma. Why the hell would I leave you?" Rogue might've become angry under other circumstances, but she was shaken at just how heartbroken Irene looked. "I'd never leave you. You and Momma are my world."

"And that's the problem." Irene almost whispered, hanging her head. "You deserve so much more than that. We've been so selfish, keeping you to ourselves." Irene's voice dropped almost to nothing. "We should've gone to Xavier for help, years ago."

"... Xavier? You mean the X-Men? But they're our enemies, or at least, they're tryin' to stop us from having our own country! Are you saying that I should, what, go over to them?" Rogue pulled back a bit, her voice rising again.

Irene nodded. "Yes." She rarely spoke so directly about her prophecies, but she knew that Rogue needed to go. "Magneto will send you overseas soon to fight in his war. Rogue- the war that he intends to start, is one where there will be no winner. Please don't throw your life away on his dream. It will only turn into a nightmare, Anna-Marie."

"... what about Momma?" Rogue asked, quietly. "Does she know?"

"No. And she cannot. She loves Magneto, she won't understand. Please, Anna-Marie, I beg you. Go. Get the help you need. Become the hero you were always meant to be." Irene looked back up at her, imploring, begging.

"... if I go, don't you think for a second that I'm not coming back for you one day. And Momma too. That's a promise, you hear?" Rogue felt hot tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "We're gonna be a family again."

"Yes, of course. One day." Irene was glad, then, that she had no eyes. It made Rogue much less likely to catch the lie.

Twenty Years Later:

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Kate could barely remember when she'd lived and fought because she believed that the world could be a better place, that the future was a world of infinite possibilities, rather than simply because she was too stubborn to give up. Like she did at least every week, she placed a few straggly flowers on the graves of her dead friends, or at least, where they were buried- the Sentinels disposed of their ashes and bones in the same vast field, mingled indiscriminately with each other.

Somewhere in the vast deposits of ash and bone fragments lay the remains of Professor Xavier, the man who had taught her how to dream of a better future for mutants and humans. Strewn together with him or perhaps on top, since they'd died later, were the bones of Scott Summers and Ororo Munroe, the two leaders of the X-Men. The remains of many other X-Men, Bobby Drake, Kurt Wagner, Ali Blaire and others were mixed with them, as were the ashes of many of the people they'd called enemies before the crisis had brought them together- too little too late.

"... we should go, Katya." She felt a warm, strong hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. "They are almost ready."

"... do you think this could really work, Piotr?" Kate looked up at her husband. "You know that they'll come when it activates. And then …"

"And then we die, yes, but maybe we can ensure that this never happens. Maybe soon, we will see each other again, in a better world."

Kate nodded faintly and then went up on tiptoes to kiss him softly, Piotr bending down to return the kiss, strong arms wrapping around her. She looked up at him after they parted for a long moment, a hand reaching up to stroke his face. A hard life had left its mark on him, his dark hair liberally shot through with grey, a long scar from a Sentinel attack on his cheek, but he was still in so many ways, the handsome boy she'd fallen in love with as a foolish, optimistic girl.

It made her ache, deep down. She'd hoped once upon a time, maybe, to one day be a mother. But the Sentinels had fixed that with the virus that had sterilized almost all the world's people. Like almost everyone in her generation, she'd never had the chance to start a family. The last human beings who would ever live on the planet were already thirteen years old. There had once been seven, eight billion people on the Earth- she didn't know how many remained precisely, but Tessa was fairly confident that the number had fallen into the hundreds of millions and was declining precipitously. In a best-case scenario, in eighty or ninety years, the human race would be extinct.

The walk from the graves to the underground complex where the few survivors had gathered was not a long one, but they had to be continually wary of Sentinel patrols the whole time. Along the way, they travelled past the ghastly, empty, half-ruined remnant of New York City, broken only by the shufflings of vagrant humans and feral animals. The Sentinel patrols couldn't easily pick them up while Kate had them phased, but it was still a colossal relief when they went underground to where the final group of X-Men had gathered.

"You're late." Tessa gave them a small look.

"I'm sorry, but I wanted to say goodbye to all my dead friends before I doom us all to non-existence at best." Kate half-growled.

"Kate. Tessa. You two are not gonna have another fight now. We're a team. X-Men." Logan growled, guzzling a flask of cheap moonshine. "Forge an' Max are almost done downstairs. Just runnin' some last tests." Logan offered the flask to Kate, who declined it.

"... I apologize. I did not mean to appear disrespectful. Many of my friends are in there too." Tessa sighed slightly.

Kate nodded. "Me too. How long until they're ready to send me over?"

"Ten minutes, give or take thirty seconds or so." Tessa replied. "Logan and I can give you two a little time alone if you like."

"Won't be enough." Logan smirked faintly, earning a little glare from the rest of the group. "Christ. Woulda thought a small joke would be welcome right now." However, he left the room with Tessa.

Kate took Piotr by the hand and made him sit down so she could curl up in his lap. "Even twenty years later, I'm a perfect fit. Never had the chance to get fat." She chuckled faintly and then made a soft sound as Piotr gently brushed away the hair from her neck and kissed her there, once twice.

Piotr nuzzled her softly, his arms wrapping around her. "I don't want to let you go, Katya. But maybe, somehow, we'll be together again. I never, was much for faith … I just … I do not want this to be goodbye." A tear rolled down his face. "I'm sorry, Katya. I should be strong for you right now. I'll do my best, I promise."

"You have been so strong, so much stronger than I ever thought anyone could be. It's okay to be scared, Piotr." She looked up at him and kissed him softly. "I'm scared too, terrified. Just hold me, so I can still feel it when I have to go. Hold me so I'll never forget what it feels like, no matter what happens out there."

The remaining time, they spent in a comfortable silence, holding each other as tightly as they could. And true to her hope, Kate could still feel his arms around her as they finally had to part, and she walked down into the basement of the complex where she found Max and Forge working on the device that was going to send her consciousness back in time. Kate could see the haunted look in Max's face as he looked over at her. But how could she be angry for the part he'd played in this now? He'd suffered too, losing his dream, his lover, his Brotherhood and even, in a sadly ironic twist, his ability to walk.

Kate took a slightly tremulous breath and stepped inside the machine, lying down on the table and being strapped in by Forge. She looked up at the bright lights of the machine as it started whirring into life. The rest of the room went dark as the power drained out to power its operation. She felt strange, not a pain, but a distinctly uncomfortable sensation of distance and she realized that she was looking down at herself and going up further and further away. It was then that she saw the explosion of the facility and the Sentinels coming in, attacking and eventually, killing her friends.

No … no … I have to go back. She couldn't do anything, though, the machine was too far in its operation. The last things she saw was a Nimrod unit killing Piotr- tearing him to pieces, and the strangely satisfied expression of the captive mutant who had led them there. The green-haired mutant looked up with a strange smile as he grabbed an unconscious Forge and then began to disappear himself.

No. Send me back! SEND ME BACK!

Kate screamed silently, but there was nothing to do be done. Her consciousness was already being sent hurtling, screaming through time and space, and then all she knew was darkness.

X-Mansion:

When Kate awoke again, she was in a warm, soft bed in the Xavier Institute, where she'd been twenty years ago. But all she could do was cry, cry until there were no tears left and her breath only came in ragged gulps. She finally managed to get out of the bed and look around, at all the ridiculous posters and stuffed animals and half-read books around her. Her fingers wrapped around the Star of David necklace around her neck, something she'd lost so many years ago.

Kate got up and went out into the bathroom, turned on the light and stared into the mirror, and the face that greeted her wasn't the slightly worn one with greying hair she was used to- but herself as much younger woman, wavy brown hair unmarred by age, her face a little rounder than it had become over the years.

This isn't Kate. It's Kitty.

She took a deep breath. She had a lot of work to do, and very little time in which to do it. She wouldn't exist for very long- in only a few days, Kitty's consciousness would take over again- Kate could only hope that things had changed enough that her consciousness could return back to her body, but she knew that the actual chance that would happen was low. Most likely, Kate realized, these were the last few days of her existence.

I won't waste them. I won't let the people I love done. I can save them, maybe in the future, but certainly in the present.

No more tears, Kate. It's all up to you now.