Marvel owns all, I own nada. I'm just playing

The room was abuzz, a cacophony of hissing, clicking, grunts and the other means of communication for the daemonic host that had gathered. Imps and goblins, bugbears and things with no name, all milling about with a palpable sense of anticipation. A few were actual survivors from the time of the Goblin Queen, and had regaled the newer monsters with tales of that failed campaign against the humans. A frog-like creature drooled openly as a harpy described how it had feasted on the flesh of those plump, cowering New Yorkers - the fear, of course, added a hint of flavor that made it even more a delicacy.

Belasco sat on his throne, his slight smile betraying a furrowed expression of deep concentration. He stared ahead over steepled fingers into seeming nothingness.

"The end is upon us, my servants. Soon our Masters will be free, and I will have dominion as their agent on Earth," he spoke, softly, "And you, the hordes of Limbo, will retake your proper place on top of the pyramid, with dominance over mankind."

The raucous assemblage hooted and hollered their approval of this idea.

"Wagner!" the sorcerer yelled.

With an explosion of sulfur and brimstone, his indigo-furred servant appeared. "Yes, Master? How may I serve?"

"You've been granted a reprieve, goblin. Right now, I need you to assemble the legions at the gateway. It will open before this night is done."

"Are you certain, Master? Is the Time finally at hand?"

With a twitch of his little finger, a bolt of force blasted the mutant against the wall. "You've been given no license to ask questions. Now do as I say, or I shall select another and dispose of you as I should have when you failed me with the Phoenix child."

"Y-yes, Master," Wagner said, cowering. Then, he vanished in a foul-smelling cloud.

After watching one version of Nightcrawler depart, the reddish hued Demon Lord turned his attention to the other, still encased in a enchanted stasis field. He spread his fingers wide, and held his hands over the immobile form. Yellow fire leapt from his fingertips, through the field to surround the X-man's body.

"Seems a waste'a energy t' heal th' guy, don't it?" asked T'ym.

Belasco looked over at the hulking figure and arched an eyebrow.

"Whoa, boss, don't need to get that way. I was jus' sayin', yer act'ly strain' a bit there, an' with the upcomin' fight, I figgered you'd wanna keep yer reserves up." The demon's gruff voice was tinged with apprehension. "They do got some powerful do-gooders up there, what with that Sentry guy, Thor, Strange, Iron Man. Not that I t'ink they're gonna stop us. I'm jus' sayin', is all."

"Just saying, indeed," the sorcerer responded, even as he continued his spell. "You are correct, actually. Healing magic does not come easily to me, and the injuries this Wagner inflicted on himself fighting my illusory Wyrm are quite extensive. But the rite of sacrifice requires conscious souls, and the spell keeping him alive would invalidate that. So I do what I must." He paused, considering, "It's a shame, really. This version is made of much sterner stuff than my own. Were I the time, I might choose to break him, just for the sheer delight of it. But someone would need to take his place in the pentacle, and since the Szardos girl had been unable to bring the Wolverine or the windrider..."

With a wave, he cut off the golden flames. Nightcrawler's body, deathly still inside the stasis field, nonetheless looked markedly improved. "As for those powerful do-gooders that worry you, I of course have a plan. With the gateway open, my Master's power will flow through me as never before, and it shall be that even the least of my minions may become as powerful as those so-called 'heroes' that fill your craven heart with dread."

"Aw, boss, now ya gone an' hurt my feelings." growled T'ym, his light tone counterfeited by the narrowing of his eyes.

If Belasco was at all concerned at the show of belligerence, he did not let it show. He laughed hollowly, "I would not, as they say, leave your employment for a career as a jester. Not that I provide you any choice of vocation. Put Wagner in position, then fetch me a dozen of my strongest warriors. And do try to do so without the commentary, it was an unpleasant habit of your brother. I would hate to have to use the same sort of corrective steps."

The red demon took the veiled threat seriously, and moved quickly to carry the still encased Kurt to the bottom point of a large pentacle inscribed in the stone floor. He gently placed his burden vertically, and, completing that task, made his exit as fast as his clawed feet could take him.

His hand tracing a sigil in the air, the sorcerer caused the energy holding the mutant's body to evaporate to nothingness. Nightcrawler's body began to slip to the floor, his eyes fluttering, but a ruby-like flagstone flashed beneath him, causing him to levitate a foot into the air. Then the light coalesced around his arms, neck and legs, transforming into manacles and irons, binding him tight.

"You cannot, of course, use your mutant gifts. But if you'd like to try, by all means, I'm sure I'll find it amusing."

Kurt took stock of his situation. "I won't join you. I don't know what you did to that doppelgänger who you have licking your sandals, but that isn't me."

"Ah," Belasco smiled coldly, "I do so wish I had the opportunity to correct you of that particular illusion. But such is not your fate."

Kurt's eyes were drawn to the ornate table against the wall. In between two spheres, one deepest black, one milky white, was the bomb.

"A wonderfully enchantment, the dimensional seal. I was rather delighted when my servant found a reference to it in the library. Deceptively simple in execution, but requiring unimaginable power. To cut the ethereal tethers that connect one realm from the rest – truly an inspired plan. I'm quite glad I thought of it."

Kurt forced his face to remain expressionless.

"It was my idea, you see. It is why I sent my sorceress to suggest it to you and your home's 'Sorcerer Supreme'. I knew, of course, that he would regard the threat of my Master's freedom as one of the few situations where such a spell would be justified. As 'Amanda' was, to him, ruler of this dimension, she could give the authority to undertake it."

"Perhaps I am mistaken, but how does knowing of the spell further your design?" the German asked, prodding the villain for information.

"I know what you are doing, my poor, deluded goblin, and even though you could no more escape those chains than your fate, I shall not spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say that everything that has transpired has been in furtherance of my design."

With that, Belasco laughed, the eerie sound echoing through the hall.

Patience wasn't her strong suit, Rachel would readily admit. So the idea that she had to wait, lost in some misbegotten subdivision of Limbo, in-between dimensions, and would have to wait for Illyana's plan to unfurl didn't sit so well.

She'd been going over her situation in her head, now that she understood it. At full power – pushing herself to her limits and beyond – she thought she could do it. Her own mutant talent, beyond the telekinesis and telepathy inherited from her mom, was to project herself through time. It was possible to tweak that ability to jump dimensions instead of time. Hadn't she done that, anyway, when she'd come back from her world full of Sentinels and enslavement to one where she could become a valued member of the X-men in her own right?

Again she was reminded that Illyana, before she died (if she'd died, after all), had been as time displaced as she, and had gone through a childhood just as hellish and had been just as tainted by it.

Illyana?, she sent the thought out to the void, but the Russian girl's presence was long gone, off to do whatever else she had to do to stop Belasco. Failing any further input, she set about analyzing what it would take to make the crossing on her own.

Slipping into a deep trance, she opened her mind, testing the edges of the astral firmament. She tentatively pushed against the barrier in her mind, psychically probing it for weaknesses, but it stood firm.

Anger rose in her, the legendary Grey temper asserting itself. I can do it, she thought. I can break through and then I'll give that pink-faced bastard what's coming to him. I have the power. I have the will.

She felt herself losing the meditative state, her fury pulling her out of center. She had to consider, how much power? How much will? Dimensional walls weren't lightly breached, and who could say what state she'd be in if she did get through. Without full use of the Phoenix Force flowing through her, she'd most likely be drained to the point of exhaustion, making her easy prey for Belasco and his minions. And that was, of course, assuming she broke through the right partition and didn't end up in Mephisto's realm or the Negative Zone.

She knew she had to trust Illyana's plan. She slowed her heartbeat and let the adrenaline wash out of her bloodstream. Save it for later, when it really counted.

The laughter had died down, and Danielle and Amanda had lapsed into an awkward silence as they both sat alone with their thoughts. Amanda, still famished from her incarceration, was chewing softly on an energy bar. The sorceress had suspicions about the food provided, but the point Dani about not having other options made a lot of sense. She risked the slightest bit of magic, the most minor of spells to detect poison or other substance of insidious purpose to the food, but found none. Instead, it glowed brightly of beneficial enchantment. She kept eating, somewhat relieved, but still very suspicious.

Dani moved over to the door. "Let me know when you get some strength back."

"I'm doing much better, thank you. Would it be safe to assume there's much more than granola in these bars?"

That's probably true, yes." said Dani, "But I'm afraid I wasn't just inquiring after your health out of friendly concern. I need to know - "

"Yes, I know."

"So are you - are you OK?" the Cheyenne woman asked.

"I'm... no. I'm not ready yet." Amanda shook her head, tears forming at the edges of haunted eyes. "You don't know how easily he beat me, Dani. I ruled this dimension, and he walked in and crushed me like I was a novice. I can't face him again. He doesn't need me alive anymore, except as a plaything."

"I know you're scared - I would be, too," she replied. "Hell, who am I kidding, I am scared. But anything's got to be better than waiting here to starve to death - or for whatever nastiness he's got cooked up for us. And there's a backup plan - we might not even have to deal with him."

A flicker of hope arose in the eyes of the gypsy sorceress. "A backup plan?"

"Yes - we just need to find Nightcrawler. He's got a box - a spell from Dr. Strange. It should help us stop Belasco." Part of her screamed that by hiding the truth, she was slipping into the word games of the White-eyes. The same crap that Xavier would pull from time to time. In her heart, she just didn't have the strength to do that. She walked over to the woman huddled against the wall and knelt down. "I don't want to lie to you. The backup plan may be as bad or worse than trying to straight up defeat him. It's something that would cut off Limbo from the rest of the dimensions, forever. We'd be trapped here. We were hoping you - well, the person we thought was you - might be able to get us out in time, before we set it off. But I don't know if that's really a possibility or not. Most likely at least one person would have to stay. But from my understanding, it would cut Belasco off from the source of his power, so who knows? Maybe we'd have a shot."

The color - what little there had been - poured from Amanda's face. "Oh no! You didn't go through with that! Please tell me you didn't..."

"Why? What's wrong? The way Cyclops briefed me about it, Dr. Strange thought it would do the job."

"Belasco put the other me up to that task. I felt snatches of that through the psychic connection, but I didn't know if she'd succeeded…" The blond woman shuddered. Then, in a quiet voice, she asked, "Do you think Kurt was fooled by that imposter?"

Dani shook her head. "I don't know. I really didn't get to talk to him about it."

"Oh." Her posture stiffened, "Regardless, we need to find Kurt before Belasco does. If that monster wants that thing, you can be damn sure we don't want him to have it. Miss Moonstar, I think I'm more than ready to go now."

"Great. Just – one thing?"

"Yes?"

"Can you conjure us up some clothes? I don't really care to fight demons in the raw."

Amanda nodded, "So long as you're sure it won't be detected?" With Dani's nod, she muttered a small spell and two tunics appeared, with leggings and short boots. "Sorry if it's not the height of spring fashions, but it should do."

Donning the garb quickly, her companion nodded as she moved to work on the heavy door to their cell. "It'll do just fine."

"It is a pity, goblin," Belasco said, while absently polishing a blood-red ruby ring on his left hand on his cloak, "that events will proceed as they must. After all the effort taken to mold you, it is a shame you could never reach your destiny."

"What are you talking about now?"

"I had misread the portents when you first visited my realm - and hence the servant I turned was but a flawed copy. It was so easy to twist your faith and morals that I neglected to realize the true power there." He held the ring up to the light, which danced evilly off the many facets. "Your mutant power and your prosaic devotion to your Christian God would have fueled a powerful enchantment. With the right object of power, at the right moment, I could have used you to free my Masters without resorting to more elaborate machinations."

Kurt scoffed, "You've made better attempts to try to get me to talk."

"Think what you will, Wagner. I know that my old rival Azazel nearly succeeded in utilizing the power within you to escape his own dimensional prison."

"I'd really prefer to leave my father out of this," he snarled in response, staring down at the chains that bound him to hide his discomfort with the subject.

"Father?" laughed the Sorcerer, "Is that what he told you? How delightfully droll!" Amusement oozed from his toothy grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have preparations to make. Tomorrow is a brand new day, after all. One that will see everything you loved turned to ash."

Biting back the question that had leapt to his tongue, Kurt could only think that this was yet another mindgame from a master of lies. Mystique, of course, had confirmed Azazel's story. So as much as he may have wished it otherwise, he would have to accept the events on Isla Des Demonas as fact, particularly considering the consequences of believing Belasco's words.

The Demon Lord, for his part, had gathered a series of monstrous lieutenants around him. "The honor bestowed upon you shall be second only to mine in this new order. For you shall be my instruments to hold the persons of power – the so-called 'heroes' – in abeyance until such time as our Lords in Darkness can cement their rightful role as the masters of the Universe Above."

His eyes flashed, and power unimaginable channeled through his right arm to encapsulate the demons around him. Within the green fire, their forms seemed to melt, becoming malleable. His hands danced, shaping their forms like clay.

"Peter, dear, can you fetch me the sour cream? The borscht is almost ready." He pulled open the refrigerator door to comply when his wife spoke again, "Oh, and I need the garlic and rosemary from the cupboard for the lamb…" He turned to reach up for the spices – why she chose to keep them up high, he wasn't sure.

He felt arms wrap around his waist. "Because I like to stare at that tight ass of yours, lover mine," she smiled, seemingly reading his thoughts.

"Katya!" he exclaimed, his ears reddening at her directness, "My family is in the next room!"

"Aw, c'mon, Piotr Nikoleivitch , what fun is it being dead if you have to maintain the staid and tedious morals of the living? If this is heaven, I mean to enjoy it!" With that, she jumped into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the counter. His eyes grew wide.

Even as he sank into his beloved's embrace, a quiet voice inside him began to throw forth doubts. But these doubts went unbidden, collapsing under the weight of searing kisses and deft, wandering hands. It was Peter's sense of decorum that, at last, pulled him from his reverie. "As much as I would prefer to spend eternity in your arms, I do not think being deceased is any excuse for poor manners. And, after dinner, there will be all the time in the world to continue this, ahem, discussion."

"Spoilsport," she smiled, kissing his nose and bouncing back to the oven. "Now take the Tabbouleh out to the table and entertain your family while I get everything else ready."

"Is there anything else I can do to help in here?"

Kitty responded with a smoldering look, "Well, I'm sure I can come up with something..."

His eyes widened in understanding, and he felt his neck grow hot. "Later, dear, I promise." He took up the salad – a cracked bulgar wheat salad with tomatoes, cucumber, and mint – and pushed through the curtain separating the kitchen from the dining room, where his family was seated. He paused, a hitch in his stride and a catch in his throat, at the sight. Mama and papa talking animatedly about the fields, how the grain grew so tall in this place, and that papa's aches and pains no longer prevented him from spending the day at work. Little Illyana was a bundle of impatience, stirring restlessly in her chair. Their parents had clearly instructed her to behave, and the poor girl seemed ready to explode with excitement.

"Piotr! Piotr!" she chirped in Russian, "I'm so glad you're here! And Mikhail is coming too! We can finally be a family again and you won't never ever have to go away!"

He patted her head gently, "Never, little snowflake." He looked outside, again completely missing the cracks of darkness that marred the sky, "And unless I am much mistaken, our prodigal brother is almost here." Clouds of dust trailed behind a German sports car that was speeding towards their driveway. The prohibitive cost to the automobile stood in stark contrast to the prosaic, rural landscape, but somehow seemed appropriate to such a famous cosmonaut, a true hero of the State. His mind struggled with a memory - of another world, of his brother passing through a strange portal - and dismissed it. There would be time for such musings later, he decided, and threw open the door to greet his sibling.

"Kavon!" greeted the handsome, dark haired man, "It is good to see you!" He laughed, as Piotr had picked him up in a great bear hug, "When I last saw you, I was the one lifting you up! You have grown very large, and strong!"

"Misha! Misha!" came their sister's voice.

"And who is this? Little Illyana! How did you come to this place? You are far too young!" He looked over at his little brother, who had a pained expression.

"I got real sick, Misha," explained the child, seriously, "But it's all better now that you and Piotr are here!"

"That we are, little one, that we are!" Mikhail scooped her up, holding her in the crook of one powerful arm. "But first, what is that wonderful smell? Is that Pelmeni? Surely our Piotr has not learned to cook so well?"

"That would be me..." said Kitty in fluent Russian, emerging from the kitchen with a large plate. "Although I would point out that Peter isn't exactly a stranger to the kitchen. You should try his quiche." She added the last with a wry smile.

"Mikhail," Piotr said, an arm snaking around Kitty's waist, "this is my, er, fiancée? Is that right?"

"I don't think we're going to find a Rabbi around here to finalize things, if that's what you're asking. But I don't think it really matters, does it?"

"No, not at all. This is my wife, in every sense of the word but the technical, Katherine Pryde. And Katya, this is my brother Mikhail, who perished on the launchpad years ago."

"My pleasure," the brunette said, even as the former cosmonaut took her hand and gave it a light kiss.

"The pleasure, of course, is mine. Kavon, you great big oaf, you must have stolen the heart of the prettiest girl in America."

"I've thought so myself," smiled Peter as they all took seats at the stout oaken dinner table. The surface was covered with fabulous dishes, giving off such intoxicating aromas that set their bellies to growl and tastebuds to tingle in excitement. Borscht, the traditional Russian beet soup, served with sour cream and dill. Stuffed eggplant, filled to the brim with mushrooms, tomatoes and onion, coated with a layer of buttered breadcrumbs. Mashed turnip and vegetable kasha. A silver dish piled high with Omul caviar. Bright red lobsters on a bed of spinach. The pelmini – savory dumplings filled with beef, pork and onion – were grabbed quickly by Mikhail.

It was a meal fit for a Czar. But, he noted, not one that could be remotely called Kosher. Kitty was not the most devout of her faith, but she never openly flouted the laws of kashrut. The voice inside had grown, however, disturbing his thoughts. Why did he continue to have this vision of a measureless void, of a glowing portal? Why did he have the sense of fighting alongside his brother, and also against him, as Colossus? The memories would not reconcile with that of him dying in a space accident. A stabbing sensation spread through his brain.

"Peter?" asked Kitty, her voice thick with concern. "What's the matter?"

"I - I do not know, Katya. But this feels wrong."

"What does?"

"All of this. Illyana - here a child. But we saw her, grown, in Belasco's clutches. Mikhail, apparently dead, but if he were dead, it would mean that..."

"Mean what? Peter, you're scaring me!" Illyana had run to her parents, crying, begging him not to say anymore. Mama and Papa stood up, disapproval on their faces. "I thought we raised you better than this, son," his father Nikolai spoke sternly. "And now you have ruined everything."

"Pity, Kavon, we could have been happy here," said his brother, "But now the last guest as arrived. And it's all your fault that he's here."

A knock at the door shook the whole house. The candelabra swayed dangerously, and some crashes from the living room hinted that beloved pictures had not survived.

"You may as well let him in, Peter," said Kitty, her own displeasure well evident. "He won't go away now."

Shifting to his armored form, Colossus walked resolutely towards the hall. If he had caused this, then it was up to him to finish it. He balled his fists, and threw open the door.

Framed in the negative flashes of black lightning, clad in a course woven monk's habit and his sunken eyes blazing with madness, stood his great grandfather. Grigory Rasputin. And he was laughing.

"Got it," Dani said simply as her lockpicking efforts were rewarded. The heavy door moved slightly, allowing her to peer down the hallway outside. "Get ready."

Amanda, paused a moment to collect herself, then squared her shoulders and walked over to the door to stand by the young woman. She cleared her mind, pulling particularly useful incantations and spells into a sort of mental queue. Her left hand played around the sigil for a quick shield, her right prepared to launch a series of mystical bolts. She would not be found wanting.

"There's some sounds around the corner. Let me take these guys out silently... I don't think we need to pull out the big guns for a couple minor demons." Dani whispered. Her companion nodded silently.

Two goblin-like creatures were dispatched with barely a sound. SHIELD training, enhanced by that learned in the Danger Room and from her grandfather, left Danielle Moonstar as one of the most capable hand-to-hand fighters on the planet, even without her mutant abilities. A blazing fast sidekick crushed the trachea of the first, and in the split second that the other was frozen in shock, she had snapped its neck.

The two dragged the corpses back into their cell, and propped them against the wall. The sorceress cast a glamour over the bodies, transforming them into simulacra of themselves. Amanda spoke quietly, "You've changed, Dani."

"Life's hard," her companion said, with a slight shock at the similarity to what the fake Amanda had said of her. "Still, I'm not going to waste a tear on hellspawn like that when the fate of the world is at stake. Now I'm hoping that they kept our weapons somewhere near here. Can you pick anything up?"

Blue eyes went unfocused as mystical senses explored their surroundings. "Nothing definitive, but I'm getting a vague sense of Aesir magic that way" – indicating a corridor to their right – "That could be your armor. Nothing – and no one - else is coming up, at least without casting a locator spell."

"Let's hold off on that. We'll check out the hallway and see if we can get our gear. Then we can check the other cells to see if anyone else is locked up here."

There were a few more minor skirmishes en route, each resolved with swift, efficient lethality by Danielle. Amanda led them down turning and twisting hallways without hesitation, completely focused on her mystical senses bringing them to their goal. They moved on silent feet towards a heavy, bronze-fitted door.

"A strongroom," whispered Amanda. "The emanations come from here. I'll try to muffle the wards if you can get the lock." Seeing the nod of assent, she reached out and lightly touched Dani's arm, "I can't guarantee anything. We're in his seat of power. That we're still free is remarkable - unless he's just toying with us. I could probably 'port us out of here, get reinforcements..."

"No," replied Dani, "Even if we were sure we could get out, we don't know if we could get back. And if this team failed - well, there may not be another chance. We've got to finish this, best we can." She looked directly at her companion, "Are you with me?"

Grim resolve set in the sorceress's face. "Yes," she said simply, then began her incantation. The pair worked for several long minutes, as Dani struggled with a series of locks that seemed to dance along in and out of phase, trying to remain within the constraints of the silencing spell cast around them. Droplets of sweat formed on her brow as she concentrated on her movements, timing her cantrip to collapse the waveform of the lock meticulously.

There was no sound to indicate she'd succeeded, no physical sensation to confirm that the door was open and would not bring a demonic horde down on their heads upon entry. But they'd done all they could, and the Cheyenne woman had the sense it would work. She glanced over, and tensed her muscles. She tripped the latch, and shoved hard, opening it wide enough to dive through. She sprang catlike to her feet, and looked around.

The room was small, maybe ten feet square. A stone table flanked by large stone gargoyles- grotesques, actually - loomed against the far wall, and on top, in a disorganized pile, where her things. Her SHIELD jumpsuit, her armor, her weapons. But there was Shadowcat's uniform as well, and her two photonic katanas. But there was no sign of Nightcrawler's swords, nor the uniforms for either him, Rachel or Colossus. And the bomb was not here either. Hopefully that meant they were still free out there.

"It's clear," she called to Amanda, who was still at the door. "He's got Shadowcat, but I think that Rachel, Peter and Kurt may still be free. At least, well, there stuff isn't here."

A sigh of hopeful relief escaped the witch's lips. "So… what do we do now?"

Dani had doffed the tunic Amanda had created and was pulling on her jumpsuit. "Now, I think we try to find Kitty, rescue her." She pulled the mail shirt over her head. "And then – Belasco gets what he truly deserves."

Before Amanda could say anything, the door slammed shut on its own accord, and the two huge statues began to move. It was a trap.

Dani's fingers flew to her quiver, trying to find an arrow that would have any effect on the stone terrors that were moving towards them. High explosive was out - they'd be caught in the blast as well in this small area. Incendiary shafts wouldn't bother these creatures, nor would her shock arrows. She chose a small pointed armor piercing arrow, designed to slip through mail and puncture plate armor. She thought that if she could hit a weak spot - maybe the gimlet-like eyes - she might be able to do some damage. One of the creatures took a ponderous swing at her that she ducked under, nocking the arrow as she did. She loosed it, hitting her target in a shot that would make Hawkeye proud, sinking her point several inches into the gem and into the stone head.

A huge, three clawed hand reached up and broke the shaft off, before continuing to come at her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Amanda - after a desperate, futile grab at the door - was now just as hard-pressed as she. More so, since all the woman had to defend herself was a long knife taken from one of the goblins they'd dispatched on the way. And, even worse, from the way she was holding it and her stance, it appeared the only time the gypsy had used a dagger was to cut up potion ingredients. She was flicking it at the creature's forehead uselessly in between dodging those slow, devastating punches. "Amanda!" she called, "Don't toy with it - just zap it. We'll have to risk some magic here!"

"No!" she shouted back, "These are Hybornean Golems - they're designed to absorb magic power and turn it against the caster... we need to deactivate them some other way!"

"Yeah, well, I'm entertaining any thoughts about that." She barely evaded a backswing that left a hole in the wall roughly the size of her head. These things didn't need to be fast, and they weren't. But they were implacable and did not fatigue, and they would. In this tiny space, when a glancing blow would be enough to incapacitate either of them, it was just a matter a time. She would have given a lot to have the sword that complemented the armor she wore, a blade that would cut through anything except that which lived, and she was fairly sure these monstrosities didn't fall in the "alive" category.

It struck her as she vaulted over the grotesque when it attempted a double fist smash that while she might not have Sam's vorpal blade, there were two weapons on that table that might serve equally as well. She made a mad scramble, leaping on top of the table and grabbing Kitty's two laser swords. "Amanda, catch," she said, tossing one in her direction. "Try this instead!" The hilt arced through the air, but her companion was unable to make the catch when her attacker moved between the pair. It clattered off the rough hewn back of the creature.

Amanda didn't panic, but instead dropped down and dove between the thick stone legs, reaching desperately for the sword hilt. Her fingers closed around it, but in a panic she realized she had no idea how to use the device.

"It's the switch by your thumb," shouted Dani, understanding the blonde's confusion. She'd nearly forgotten that this Amanda hadn't been with them from the start. Both women activated the energy blades and squared off with their respective dance partners.

"Wish I had the owner's manual to this thing," she said, swinging it in a low arc, only to have it ricochet leaving just a slight, superficial scratch.

Even as she swung again and again, causing the same negligible damage to the animated rock, Dani noticed that Amanda was still thrusting at the creatures head with her sword. It seemed a rather foolish strategy - the creatures appeared to be solid stone, so even if she could penetrate, there probably wasn't any brain or other vital organ to skewer inside. She called out the question, "What are you doing? I don't think stabbing the thing is going to do anything."

Amanda was short of breath, and almost seemed bothered by the distraction. "It's the runesign on the forehead that gives them mobility and purpose. I'm trying," she gasped, barely eluding a right cross from her adversary, "I'm trying to scratch that out to deactivate the blasted thing."

"Gotcha," she said, narrowing her eyes to see the small insignia on the golem's forhead, and switched up her own attack to match Amanda's. Dani tried a slicing attack, even scoring several hits on the two inch target, but to no appreciable effect. A desperate plan formed in her mind, and she leapt up on the table, crouching low. She waited for the creature to strike, another overhead hammerfist that reduced the stone table to rubble, and leapt over its head. One hand grabbed hold of the broken arrow shaft in its eye, and she twisted her body around, digging her knees into its shoulders. Her other hand swung the katana hard right into the rune.

The creature stopped.

"All right!" she exclaimed, and started to climb down off the thing to assist Amanda. Her elation was short lived, when suddenly the thing spun and caught her with a glancing blow from its elbow. She was tossed like a rag doll, crashing into the middle of the room at Amanda's feet.

"OK, destroying the rune was a bad idea," Dani said, somewhat in a daze from the impact.

The sorceress, still engaged with the other golem, replied, "I should have known… the rune was just the command incantation. All you did was to revert it to its base nature. Which, knowing Belasco, is to destroy."

Dani looked back – it was swinging wildly, the force of the stroke sending ripples of air across the room. "Now you tell me?"

The first golem was lumbering towards them, while the second was getting closer and closer with its own strikes. Amanda shouted, "Dani, can you trust me?"

"What?"

"I need you to trust me!"

"Why? What are you planning?"

Amanda didn't speak, but instead dragged the Cheyenne woman to her feet, somewhere in the middle of the room. Both grotesques closed in. Giant hands drew back from both sides to crush them. Amanda grabbed Dani and held her tight, and reached for her oldest, most natural magic spell, initiating it at the last possible moment. The two women blinked out of existence, reappearing by the door. Where they had been, the creatures were pummeling one another, breaking off hunks of mystical stone with each successive blow. Finally, the pair simultaneously struck each other in the chest, shattering the cavity and causing them to fall into piles of rubble.

"You could not have predicted that would work," Dani said, finally. "The timing – your teleport – everything."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Amanda laughed.

"Can't argue with that, can I? Now, do you think you can locate Kitty?"

Tink stood before them, with a scattering of pixies flitting about. "Last chance to reconsider, Wisdom."

"You should know me better'n that, luv." Pete said.

"You really are a stubborn git, I'll give you that," the punk faerie princess replied, "Now, this isn't going to be an easy trip – and there's no way of telling where in Otherplace you'll end up. My father has agreed to this, but most likely as much to annoy Strange as to help you."

"Yeah, yeah," Logan snapped in his gruff tone, "we know the deal. Jus' get us there, an' let us worry about findin' the bad guys."

The sound of sirens blared through the streets, getting louder by the second. "They're playing our song, but I really don't want to be here for the last dance. Any chance you can move things along?"

"I really should let Stuart and his goons lock you up, you know that, right?" Tink commented, then directed her attention to the pixies. "All right, make with the magic. I want these two berks out of my flat five minutes ago."

The tiny winged creatures began to spin around the two men rapidly, a trail of sparkling dust in their wake. The dust twinkled in the soft light, causing the area to seem to waver and flux.

"Now, just think of a happy thought…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Wolverine and Wisdom said it almost simultaneously.

"Just kidding."

And the pair vanished, just as Alistair Stuart and several heavily armed soldiers came running through the open door. "You let them go? How could you? Now it's bloody well going to hit the bloody fan."

Tink looked at him, "Y'know Stuart? You swear like a little girl."

Kitty was cursing her momentary bout of weakness, wondering just why she'd called out for Peter when she'd never been one for that damsel in distress crap. All that sort of insecurity accomplished was to provide another avenue for Belasco or Doug to pick at her psyche. Still, she felt her strength ebbing, sapped by this artificial hunger and confused emotions, especially about Doug.

I tried to save him, Kit. Really, I did.

"Illyana!"

Shhhh... don't speak. Hopefully they'll take that last bit like you calling out for my brother. Still got it bad, I see. Here... hold on a moment.

Kitty felt a coldness reach inside her, and pluck her, ghostlike, from herself. And as she rose from her body, she saw a similar specter that looked just like her best friend, pulling her by her arm.

"Hey, roomie," the Illyana-spirit said.

"Illyana, what - how - are you?"

"Rendered you speechless, huh? Well, I'm allowed to stretch the rules a bit with you, through that weird soulbond we share."

Kitty furrowed her brow, "Stretch what rules? Illyana, we came here to save you - please don't tell me you're dead. I can't deal with that, not again."

"No, not dead. Sort of disembodied, but not dead," explained the apparition. "Back, during Inferno, when I finally realized how to undo what I had done, I managed to find a version of me from the past – a me that was still innocent, that still had a chance at a real life. I snagged her and encased her in my armor, for Piotr to find. That act undid much of the timestream, and I felt my body begin to fade. But my consciousness remained, tied to that blasted Beatrix medallion. Three fifths of my soul, consecrated to evil by magic so foul that it transcended time and space. But the last part - the part of me that was still good... that remained as well. I ... I tried to die, Kitty, to just let go. But I felt that I was needed, still. So I sort of... dispersed - became part of the very fabric of Limbo. And it took me a long while to pull my mind back together from that. I tried to nudge things from time to time, but when Belasco returned and captured Amanda, I couldn't stand idly by."

"Does he know you're still... whatever you are?"

"He knows something is resisting his absolute dominance. Part of that is my Soulsword. I've bound control of Limbo to it. The rest is me, the ghost in the machine, if you will."

Kitty set herself, "What can we do?"

"Destroy Belasco, if you can. I don't know if that can even be accomplished here - the spells of the Elder Gods sustain him, even through fatal wounds. And worse, it may cost you your soul to try - that happened to Ororo, in my time." There was a pause, then she continued, "But if it weren't done out of anger - if it were done out of regret and necessity - that could confound the magicks that maintain his existence. Maybe you - or Dani or my brother or Kurt. People with nobler souls than I - you might be able to do what I could not."

"I don't think I fall into that 'nobler' category - I want to rip the guy's throat out. And Piotr's got some definite anger issues he's working through - if he ever got his hands on Belasco, regret would be the furthest thing from his mind, especially with what he did to you."

"Kurt - or Dani, then," said Illyana, "And... it gets worse. You - or whoever - you have to give him the chance to surrender - and to repent his ways, to make amends."

"That's asking a lot, 'Yana," Kitty said, her voice hard.

"I know. I couldn't do it myself. But it's the only theory I have right now that might work."

The shadowy brunette paused, "You mentioned trying to save him. Were you talking about Doug?"

"Yes. I saw him bring Douglas over from another dimension. I guess somewhere I thought I could save him, bewitch him back to life, and failing that, left him in Limbo. I tried to talk to him in the silence of his soul, to help him resist the evil whispers of Belasco. He ignored me. You can't trust him, Kit. All the good has been driven out."

She nodded, "Is there anything else?"

"Just... if you get a chance, if you could destroy the medallion."

Kitty's objection leapt from vaporous lips, "But you'll die!"

"I've been dead, and worse than dead, for years, Kitty. There were times I nearly mustered the strength to ask Amanda to do it, to plunge the Soulsword into that blasted necklace and free me. I didn't have the strength then, and there was always the possibility that he could return. But Piotr could do it - the cold iron of his armor, the purity of his heart. He could do it."

Shadowcat's astral form stood there, stunned at what she was being asked to do.

"Can you do that for me," pleaded her friend in a small voice, "Can you and Piotr free me?"

Kitty reached out, unsure if she would be able to touch the pale form before her. Contact was made - in this state, Illyana was a "solid" as she - and, reassured by this, the X-man pulled her into a hug.

Between ragged sobs, she finally whispered, "Yes."

"Kitty! Kitty!" came a voice from below. "Is she alive? Kitty!"

"I have to let you go now, Kitty. Just like you and Piotr have to let me go. Please, remember your promise." Illyana released her from the embrace, and Kitty felt herself drifting downwards, towards her body. She reached desperately for her friends hand, narrowly brushing her fingertips.

"Kitty!" Dani was shaking her. "She's got a pulse, I don't understand."

"Her spirit - her astral form - isn't here."

"Where is it? Did Belasco - ?"

Kitty felt herself merge with her body, and opened her eyes. "I'm here. Sorry. I was - " She was unable to put it into words, and for some reason, she knew she shouldn't. Her experience seemed locked away somewhere, "I was meditating. Amanda, is that really you?"

"In the flesh. Bruised and battered though it may be."

The memory of the ersatz Jimaine Szardos being torn apart rose unbidden, and Kitty found herself grasping the woman tightly. "I'm so happy to see you, alive. And you too, Dani." She swallowed, "Dani, there's something you need to know. It's-"

"Joyful reunions abound!" chimed a voice behind them, with a forced, saccharine cheerfulness.

Danielle Moonstar had trained hard to be able to deal with almost any situation. But the sudden appearance of a long dead teammate struck her like a blow. "Doug-"

"Hey Chief!" smiled Doug, "Belasco requests the honor of your presences in his throne room to watch as the Elder Gods are unleashed upon your world. I would ask that you come politely, but we all know that isn't going to happen."

He spread his fingers, and his amulet flashed. Inky jets of dark energy blasted forth, surrounding each of them and sealing them up in floating cocoons. "Now, if you'll follow me…"

A/N - much thanks to all my reviewers. Sorry again for the delay. This was originally going to be one huge chapter, and I ended up splitting it in two. And it was still 17 pages. Gah. Many thanks to all my reviewers, you really make this a much more fun process. Special thanks go to Amokitty, who practically wrote the section about Russian food for me. Work's allowing me more time to write - I'm getting a lunch - so hopefully I'll have the rest of chapter 10 - now called chapter 11 - up relatively soon. Remember that you can catch updates in progress over at forum. in the writing forum.