Hmmm, well I suppose, I should follow my beta-er's advice. He's told me that I absolutely should cut down on the chapter size for my last chapter. . . Given that it's hitting the 50,000 mark, I suppose he's got a point.

So I'm going to post it up in parts.

Although expect there to be over 15K plus words per part.

Again sorry for the delay, I'm writing as fast as I can.

Explanation for delay:

My PC got fried. . . lost everything. This is actually a re-write of the original finale chapteroo. . . Oh well. . . I'm back on track after a year. . .

Hopes you peoples don'ts minds. . .

And thank my Beta-er for finally getting me to post up this bit. . . :p

X

My Immortal:


 2 MONTHS AGO

Irene sat, her head bowed, shrouded under her cowl. Raven watched her worriedly. It had been two months since they had left Avalon, all hope of salvaging it form the fires of the Beast lost. Irene had been fine in Avalon, taking part in the overseeing of the rescue efforts almost zealously. Now. . . after they had left she had sunk into a form of melancholy, and despite all her efforts, Raven was unable to snap her out of it. The others had adjusted fine to life on the 'Sanctuary', the transport ship of Avalon. Raven had once piloted it, long ago, when she and Irene had first tried to find a shelter for the masses wanting escape from Apocalypse's reign of terror. A professional thief and a seer. . . they had been an odd couple. But Irene had loved her, and believed in her. That was perhaps the greatest reason that Raven had decided to abandon the search for a have and try to strike at Apocalypse. Which had led to an argument and her and Irene, amicably, parting ways. Even then Irene had been composed and calm. Now. . . now Raven was worried. Irene had not even spoken more than two words since they had left Avalon. Even Marko and Back Tom were getting antsy about her behavior. Then again, they did keep mostly to themselves.

Raven sighed and walked to one of the control panels in the room. Irene's room. She ate, and she slept, but other than that, you wouldn't imagine Irene still lived. Luckily the ship was large enough to carry everyone in Avalon, and with the supplies they had managed to save form Avalon, and gather form the savage land they could survive for another month at the least. However their fuel supplies were slowly, but inexorably finishing. The problem was in finding a place to stop. The America's were out of the question as was Eurasia. Raven had pondered whether the X-men were a viable option, but Irene had spoken once on that.

One of the two times she had spoken.

She had said a single word. . . "No." And refused to comment further. Raven had to assume that Irene had seen a vision. Or maybe she was just skeptical about how safe the X-men could be after the fight in Avalon. Raven didn't know. All she knew was that they had no place to go, and limited fuel. Morale was falling. . . and Raven could only do so much to keep everyone's spirits up. She was more used to being harsh, but that would backfire here. . . and her being nice didn't help all that much, mostly because she was almost a stranger. The people knew Irene, and they needed her wise and reassuring presence to keep them going as well.

Raven as just glad no fighting had broken out. So far. . .

She shook off her black mood and gazed down at the water far below. The last rays of the setting sun had washed them ablaze, and the waves sparkled fire. It seemed so peaceful down there. . . Raven sighed. She knew it was a false façade. . . The massive wars, the energy released. . . it had completely destroyed the worlds ecosystem. . . the oceans looked calm now, but the next second they could reach typhoon levels. . . and the minute after be calm again. . . Especially this close to Africa. . . Apocalypse's home continent had taken the worst pounding as the worlds forces sought to destroy his base of operations. . . that is till he had simply moved to New York and crushed the armies in Africa. Then he had bombed the continent till it became a flat radioactive wasteland.

Raven looked up, her eyes flashing. . . Irene had foreseen impending doom, and had tried to warn her, but Raven had not heeded her well enough. . . not nearly enough. . . Though they were parted for a long time, Raven had met her again; years later, when as a mercenary she had heard of the wonderful Avalon. . . and then Irene had come to her. Raven looked at her, tears in her eyes. This Irene was a mockery of the old, a shadow. Irene must have known of this, how could she not! She was a seer. . . Raven had asked herself this many times. . . as well as Irene. . . but each time Irene had not spoken anything.

"Irene!" Raven snapped at her, for what seemed like the hundredth time. As before Irene only turned toward her, her lightless eyes seeming to gaze at her, although Raven knew that was impossible.

"Irene, please talk to me! Do not shut me out at a time like this! You-"

She broke off suddenly. Irene was trembling. Ravens eyes widened. While Irene did have visions, they came mostly in the form of dreams she remembered, but sometimes. . . sometimes they hit her like an epileptic attack. Like now. . .

Irene suddenly flung her head back, and her eyes watered tears. Raven ran to her side, and grabbed her shaking hands, to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Irene's mouth opened in a soundless 'O'. Something was wrong. . . something . . ..

Suddenly the tremors stopped, and Irene fell back into Raven's waiting arms.

"Raven. . . Raven. . .. So much. . ." Irene broke off. Raven slowly smoothed her hair back, pulling her cowl down all the way, and shaping it into a pillow of sorts on her arm. She laid Irene's head back.

"What is it?" Raven whispered. She didn't show it, but she was scared.

"So much death and destruction Raven. . . so much. . . I have seen doom Raven. . . doomsday itself. And it is all because of one mut- . . . no, one monster. Calling him mutant is too simple. . ."

Raven held her, as Irene shivered, this time from fear. Irene normally did not show fear or any other emotion. . . but now. . . now she visibly trembled with apprehension and horror.

"One other thing. . . we are about to have company."

Ravens eye's widened. Company? An attack!

"Do not worry about any defense Raven. . . it will be futile. . .. As of now."

As she finished speaking alarms like klaxons suddenly rang out. Ravens eyes widened even further. She could not just sit here! But she was loathe to move, with Irene in a delicate shape. And she had told Raven it was useless. . .

Suddenly a salvo struck the ship, and it shuddered, and then the lights went out.

x-----------------------------------------x

Present

They stumbled out of the caverns, coughing from all the dust that had risen as a result of the explosion. Scott could barely concentrate, so severe were his injuries. It had only been a few minutes, yet it seemed like hours. He was still suspended in Jeans telekinetic embrace, still held as carefully as a baby. Logan walked close, his claws still unsheathed. Nearby Creed walked by Clarice, protecting her from any danger. The girl was very impressive. She had a degree of control Scott had seldom seen in one so young. Then again she had had a fairly stable upbringing, and it was only until she had joined them that she had learnt the true meaning of destruction and death. A pity to have ones innocence torn away.

Beyond them were Rogue and Ororo, each being supported and in turn supporting the other. Scott understood their pain. To lose a loved one. . . he had come close enough to it to completely understand how they felt.

Rogue clutched at Ororo's shoulder armor crushing it, her eyes glazed open, yet not really watching where she was going. They had half stumbled, half flown out of the cavern. Rogue had not wanted to leave. It felt as though a part of her had been left behind in the cavern. . . Rogue had always believed it to be a cliché. . . till now. Remy. . .. tears burned hot in her eyes, falling freely down her face. Rogue could remember Erik telling her. . . never to let anyone see any weakness, as a leader should be strong at a time like this. . . Rogue did not know why she remembered that, but at the moment she could not care less. . . it was like numbness had begun to slither around her body, keeping her from the rest of the world. She was barely registering the windrider next to her, cocooned in a world of pain and loss. Remy. . .

She could hear Ororo, she kept saying something. . . Rogue strained to make it out.

"Oh Goddess. . . why him. . . why my brother. . . the only one. . ."

Why him. . .? She burned inside, and yet she was cold. Freezing cold, and fire. She felt a hollow replace the place her heart had once been.

The last few minutes kept on replaying in her mind. Sinister's surprise attack. . . the fight, Cyclops tackling Sinister and teleporting away. . . then. . . then finding them again, with Cyclops down and Remy there. . . Remy. . . fighting Sinister. . . he had been surprised to see them. At first it had seemed as though he was almost annoyed at their presence. . . then the final battle. The desperate and unholy power Sinister had brought to bear on them. Their combined assault to keep him down. . . she remembered feeling almost helpless. He kept on falling and kept on rising. . . and Remy. . . Remy had been hurt badly. They had saved him, they should have left at that point. . . and then Remy had soared over everything. Over chasms and rocks, and directly onto Sinister. Even in her fear then Rogue had felt the cushion of Remy's love, and then it had gone, leaving only fear and a growing certainty. And then he had jumped off. . . and then everything had gone white. . . and then nothing.

Nothing. . .

Rogue jerked her head back, her eyes dry now; she had no more tears left to give. . . Remy had taken them all already. She was clutching at the ground now, dirt and grass crunching between her fingers. . . She could hear running footsteps now. She could feel Erik's presence nearby. Hear the shouting. She was numb to it all.

Numb. . . to everything now. . . maybe forever.

A hand on her shoulder, a finger at her chin. She looked up into Erik's grey blue eyes.

"Rogue. . . I'm sorry." She felt herself rising and then being pulled into his arms. Her own arms went around his neck and she buried her face in his chest. They were moving, but she didn't care. Not anymore. . . not now. . . She couldn't care right now.

x------------------------------x

It was a while later, and Alex had returned to his room. His room. . . sparse and spare at first glance, it was later that one noted the plush-ness of the white leather that decorated every seating surface of his room. Even the walls were covered with the white leather, padding his room, and giving a sterile, yet comfortable feel to his room. Alex had let one of the decorators furnish his room. Three decorators later he had quarters that were suitable to his taste. His inner bedroom itself was wood paneled however. More prudent to have it that way, considering the complete loss of control Lorna sometimes suffered during some of their wilder nights. He walked to the outer walls, pressing a button that slid open part of the wall to the view outside.

A view of power.

He muttered a voice command, just audible enough for the atmosphere control mechanism in his room to detect. He wanted it to be a bit darker. The lights dimmed, leaving only low level white light shining in specific corners of the room. He walked to the corner and stripped off his ceremonial armor. . . which was beginning to look worn after the day's events. He stripped till he was dressed only in the comfortable undersuit. It did not provide much in the way or protection, but it was sufficient to take the edge of most physical attacks form baseline human. . . flatscans. He sighed and returned to contemplating the world outside his rooms.

He was so close. . . power. . . everything he had ever wanted was so close to his grasp. All he had to do was reach out, unhesitatingly and assuredly, yet with the proper care. Cyclops. . . he still burned with rage from when Apocalypse had compared him to his brother earlier. He pressed a fist to the smooth transparent glass like sheet in front of him. He needed a drink.

"So. . ."

Alex turned, clenching his fist in reflex, ready to blow the head off of whoever had intruded into his private quarters.

He relaxed as he saw it was Lorna. . . relaxed a little. He still remembered her determined and angry look earlier.

"What is it? I'm not in a good mood right now."

Lorna walked in, a bit of a swagger in her step, but her jaw was a bit tight, and there was a little crease in her forehead. So. . . she was still pissed. But so was he. After the debacle with Lebeau and Candra. . . he was lucky Apocalypse had not killed him.

He still remembered the awful moment when Lebeau had left Candra to die. Alex had marveled at the sheer cruelty of the maneuver. The traitor had played them well. Apocalypse had broken Candra's neck and then turned to him. He who was still chasing after Lebeau. He had tried to find him, but with no luck. The bastard had escaped, gone into the lower levels, which he had known better than any other man or mutant still alive. Alex had sent search parties and other sorties after him, but to no avail. They could not find him. They could find no trace of him ever having gone there. Alex had returned to Apocalypse in trepidation. Upon his entry he had found Apocalypse still in the same position he had been when Alex left, staring down at Candra's corpse. Alex had wondered for a while whether Apocalypse had even moved. Then he had looked up, his clear eyes cutting into Alex's very soul.

"He was strong. I did not think he would be. The way he manipulated Candra was exquisitely done. And he has more power than I imagined. I fear Sinister did manage to succeed in some of his plans. A pity. I had plans for Candra. . . Now. . . now she will have to be put to. . . other uses."

Apocalypse stared down at her body again. Alex fidgeted as Apocalypse continued to stare downwards. Other than slight movements of his head, the giant had barely moved since Alex had returned. Alex was about to ask whether he was free to go when Apocalypse had looked up again.

"However. . . you. . . you have shown to me that you are inefficient and weak. Should I let you live High Prelate? What use are you to me if you are not strong enough!" Apocalypse had then moved, turning his body away from Candra's corpse and facing Alex fully. Alex had frozen, unable to speak or move, fearful that his life was over.

"I. . . I was taken off guard my liege. I did not expect his sudden surge in power. He had never shown that much power before."

Apocalypse had considered him for another few minutes.

"You are never prepared for any unexpected behavior and you are too confident that everything will go as you have foreseen it. Your brother would not have made this mistake. Your fault was not in letting him escape but in not taking more precautions."

At the mention of his brother Alex had seen red.

"How can you compare him to me? I at least am loyal!"

He had regretted his sudden outburst. He had never raised his voice to Apocalypse before. Very few people had. And one in his position did not. However he had seen Apocalypse smile slightly.

"It is of no concern. He is of no concern. You are braver than I thought High Prelate. We shall see very soon whether you are fit to wear your brother's mantle."

Alex had survived failure. However he doubted that he would ever survive another one. And the thought of his brother had put him in a dark mood.

"Oh, but I am lover. I'm in a VERY good mood. After all, why wouldn't I be?"

Alex frowned slightly. What was she on about? She couldn't know anything.

"Stop playing guessing games Lorna. What the hell are you talking about?"

Lorna pouted, but her eyes were hard, and cold.

"What I'm talking about is that lately, my lover hasn't been around much to keep me company. IN fact he seems to spend all of his time with his subordinates. Why Alex? Why the hell have you been ignoring me? Lately all we do is fuck. And that too not as much as we once did."

Alex stared at her for a few seconds, trying to think of something to say. . .

"It's obvious Lorna! Now that I'm High Prelate I have a hell of a lot more duties, especially with half our command force gone. Candra, Sammael, Sinister - and the rest of them, the old Arch-Prelate, Quja - they're all dead. And a lot of the brunt has fallen on us, even though Apocalypse has stepped in to take the reigns of command. In the face of all this, you ask me why I've been 'unavailable' lately. I have duties, Lorna. . . as do you."

Lorna stared at him. Alex felt elated. A fine speech. He was getting better at this.
Lorna cocked her head to the side.

"A fine speech lover. . . but I know you. I've known you my whole life. You're angry. And you're trying to bluff your way out of a predicament. There's something you're not telling me Alex. I've waited for you to tell me, but now. . . now I'm going to go with my instincts."

Lorna had spoken so calmly that Alex wasn't sure whether she was simply stating a fact, or actually felt something about what she said. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"You sound quite. . . passionate. . .!" Alex broke of what he was saying as he noticed her nostrils flare slightly. Lorna only did that when she was in the throes of passion or. . .
Invisible bands that seemed to be made of pure Adamantium gripped him. He could feel the resonance of the energy in the air around him.

"What the hell are you doing? Let me go Lorna!" Alex's fury knew no bounds. He struggled, but Lorna held him as easily as a baby. A leg of his solid steel table broke off, streaking through the air. Alex watched with wide uncomprehending eyes as it flew through the air towards him.

"NO. . ."

The steel leg tore through his padded suit, catching in the material. The other three legs broke off suddenly and flew towards him. Each imbedded itself in his undersuit, and then Lorna clenched her fist again. Immediately his undersuit was torn off, leaving him only in his undergarments.

"I swear Lorna; I'll kill you for this." He didn't understand what was going on. Was Lorna trying to kill him? In his condition right now, she would be able to do so. Unless he. . .

A massive surge of energy erupted form Alex, disrupting the magnetic influence Lorna was exerting over the molecules around him.

"Now bitch. . . tell me what you want!" Alex stood slowly. He had to be careful. . . his power was at low levels, and the sun wouldn't come out to recharge him for another good six hours. If it came down to a confrontation between him and Lorna, it could not be prolonged.

"I want to see."

With that Lorna suddenly flew up into the air, and landed behind him. Before Alex could turn Lorna snarled. He spun around and saw Lorna flex her fingers.

"I'm going to find out who gave you those marks Alex. . . I know I didn't. I marked you elsewhere during our last 'session' and these marks are recent. As recent as today perhaps. . . hmm? We haven't; slept together for a few days now. You betrayed me Alex. And I'm going to find out with whom."

Alex stared at her incredulously. Shit. . . she had figured it out. . . but Alex could still. . .

Suddenly Apocalypse's voice boomed form all around them.

"Report to my War Room immediately!"

Alex stumbled, and Lorna looked up at the ceiling, in the approximate direction of the war room.

"You got lucky this time Alex. But after our master is done talking, we're going to talk again. I would advise you to conserve your energy. You'll need it."

At any other time, that statement would have promised wild animal sex. . . this time. . . this time it promised something completely different. Alex turned his back on the departing figure of his one time love, trying to figure out how to salvage his relationship. He had put too much time into this to have it all broken by his crazed lust. . .

x-----------------x

The walls reverberated with his every step. Exodus was not sure whether he liked that. Of course, sometimes it was enjoyable, the way the sound made others turn, and then fall to their knee's without his having to say a word. Such was his presence. Then again, he had tired of these games a long time ago. What he had once found pleasure in was now simply nothing more than a mildly amusing pastime, and sometimes not even that. He supposed it was a failing of their race, the Externals. . . the fact that as time grew by, their morality crumbled. After all, when society's values had changed so much, what was the point in keeping any values at all? Why not simply give in to the most primal of desires. Of course, if he had done that, he wouldn't have been here now. No, he had mastered discipline a long time ago. A few hundred years ago in fact. And it had been due to his masters shaping of him. For that Exodus had felt he owed Apocalypse something. As far as he was concerned though, what he owed was long paid. Now, now he was simply currying power, after all, when immortal, one had all the time in the world. Besides, he had some other interests as well. His prime concern was to survive this latest aberration of Apocalypse. Perhaps the X-men would be defeated this time. The last time Apocalypse had taken a direct hand in matters, the X-men had been sent packing.

Of course, Apocalypse had suffered some wounds too, but nothing too serious. And he had given over control to his main lieutenants. The Externals. . . and Holocaust and Rasputin, though those two were never in the same league. Power-wise maybe, but they did not have the intelligence to function as anything more than lackeys, powerful hounds to send at the front of the armies. This latest debacle was a prime example of that.

Holocaust should have been able to crush the X-men, especially since they had been divided. Exodus did have to give him credit though. Holocaust had survived where many had not. Much of his brethren had not. The renegades, Archanfel, Sammael. They had all fallen before the X-men. Of all the Externals, only he, Sinister and Candra remained. And Sinister was believed dead by everyone else. He knew better. He had worked alongside Sinister for long enough to know he and Candra were playing some sort of game.

The vast doors opened at his approach, the telepathic scanners recognizing him. He stopped as he noticed that the War-chamber was nearly full. Apocalypse was there, standing by his throne, his hands clasped behind his back. Holocaust stood before him, his regenerating armor still molding itself to heal him fully. He must have been hurt badly to still be healing. The prelates all stood at attention, the High Prelate standing in front of them. Hmm. . . that was surprising. No Arch Prelate. Their forces had dwindled. The Dark Beast was there too. Surprisingly, for once Shaw was not here. Exodus made another telepathic sweep, just to make sure. Very surprising.

But what really bothered him was that Candra was not here yet. Perhaps she was still with that pet of hers. . .

"Welcome Exodus. We were only waiting on you."

Exodus looked at Apocalypse in surprise. Then what of Candra. . .?

"I am displeased with what has been happening. My horsemen fall, and even the simplest of attacks fail. You have all shown yourselves to be weak! And the X-men must be readying themselves for an assault! At this rate you will all fall before them? Have I trained and given you rank just for your failures! You all were to be of the strong. Instead I find that you are nearly unfit to survive. I grow sick and tired of failure upon failure. With Candra dead, and even Sinister finally dying, I am left with only two lieutenants on the battlefield. The storm approaches, and only those who survive it will be fit to lead. . ."

Exodus tuned out Apocalypse. . . he was sprouting more of his propaganda. The fittest will survive. An honorable motto to live by. But Apocalypse had made everyone live by it. So. . . Candra and Sinister were dead. So he was the last of them. The last External. It was a strange feeling. Suddenly what Apocalypse was saying registered.

". . .but I was not completely taken by surprise. After all, with the future by my side, how could I fail? In many ways this has gleaned the wheat from the chaff. The lesser of my servants were found unfit by nature. And so I am left with those who have survived. . . barely. You seem surprised, puzzled. Know that I have the future by my side!"

What was the madman saying? Exodus looked to where Apocalypse had pointed. Behind his throne. The Shadow King? He could not mean. . . Exodus's eyes widened.

Bound by wires and chains hung an old woman, her robe in tatters. Her eyes were open, and eerie light shone behind them, natural or brought about by the alien apparatus she was chained to? Exodus didn't know. What he did know was that the woman was completely exhausted and her life was ebbing away slowly, but surely. He also knew that the woman was the one known as Destiny. Apocalypse finally had her. So this is what he meant by the future.

"The future is ever changing, but what is truth is the past. And with the past, will the future become clear."

What the hell was Apocalypse talking about? Exodus was beginning to realize that there was another surprise in store for them.

As Apocalypse spoke, the other side of the area behind his throne came to life. Another figure stood there, except he was not bound or shackled. At first Exodus was not even sure whether the figure was alive or not. For the figure seemed to be made entirely of stone. A large ruby hung on the stone turban on his head. The only thing that served to show he was alive was that he had a hammer and chisel in his hands, and he was constantly carving. The entire wall behind the throne now moved, and Exodus was an entire wall covered in carvings, that stretched from the top to the bottom. He understood. Five millennia of history was recorded in those walls, and perhaps in other walls, for despite its vastness, the wall wasn't large enough to cover that much of time.

And Exodus understood that Apocalypse could not lose.

"For some time now I have had the other key, the future that comes in the shape of the blind seeress. Even as we speak, the X-men make ready for war. And even as we speak, the human sheep are being destroyed. My Sea Wall has done its job well."

Exodus stared at the living statue, as it carved a hieroglyph of destruction.

x-----------------------------------------x

To say he had been hurt was an understatement. He had felt like his body had been set aflame, after being beaten to a bloody pulp. Which was essentially what had happened. Not one of his smarter moves, taking on Sinister one on one. Of course, he had been hurt. Thanks to the de-tox tanks available in Sammael's ship, he felt much better. They had been removed and set up in the larger infirmary in the Hybrid. Three tanks. Two of them had already been used once each. Only a few more times of usage left. The tanks needed re-filling after every three uses. And the major battle hadn't even begun yet. Then again, it was unlikely anyone would be using the tanks. Or the Hybrid for that matter. It made a lot more sense to use Sammael's ship. The hybrid was too large, and had too many mutants and humans in it. It would show immediately. Better to use Sammael's ship. Much better.

Scott gingerly flexed his arms. They felt better now. Although his left would be weaker for a while. He was the only occupant of the infirmary at this time. Well, he supposed an attendant would be somewhere nearby, but with a three story infirmary it stood to reason that there would be someone around. And with the amount of people on board it was likely that someone was in one of the lower sections, not on the third floor, intensive care area he was. Scott wondered where Jean was. Their link told him she was nearby, but not her precise location. She was worried, as well as a bit sad. The loss of a friend. Scott had not known Remy Lebeau. The only thing he knew was that Sinister had been interested in him. Oh he knew all sorts of details about him, such as his fighting style, known operations, and a small biography of him, but Gambit had never been a big enemy for Scott. The X-men Scott had known well. But that was a time long past.

Scott stood and ran his hand over the tube attached to his right gauntlet. Only one left now. Sinister had torn the other one off. It felt strange. He had gotten used to them. Strange that, getting used to something that didn't even allow him a decent night's sleep. Well, stranger things had happened to him. . . especially over the last year.

He sighed and moved away from the bed he had been lying in. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a bodysuit, that was a standard grey color. The right sleeve had been chopped off to make allowance for his gauntlet. He looked around the infirmary. It was a pretty standard looking place. Sterile, white, cold. . . he wondered how a warm and happy person like Cecilia had ever lived in an infirmary without becoming like it, cold and empty. He wondered how Cecilia was. He felt a stab of guilt. He had not thought of her for a long time now. And she had been like an elder sister to him. Giving him care when he needed it. He hoped he could rescue her in the coming conflict. And Alex. . . he didn't want to fight Alex. But Alex was always headstrong, always jealous. He would relish the chance to face Scott in combat. Maybe he could convince him to leave with him.

He climbed down the stairs leading to the 2nd level. He stopped as he noticed the young boy who had fought Holocaust. The boy named Nate. His. . . son. His and Jeans. In a way it seemed right. And yet. . . he had never imagined a family before, yet now that one had suddenly been thrust upon him. . . he wanted to have gotten to know them. He wanted to have raised a son. It was frightening but Scott could see himself in the boy. In the shape of his jaw, the hair. Strange that premature white streak. A lot like Rogue's. Maybe. . . no. . . no that was silly. He wasn't related to Rogue.

He moved his hand and brushed the boy's hair back from his forehead.

He began to move when he sensed her coming. He stopped, and waited.

Scott? He smiled.

I'm awake Jean. . . I'm here with Nate. She did not know yet. And he had to tell her.

He heard the patter of footsteps, and then he saw her coming up the stairs, her face happy, and the link sang with her joy.

"Are you alright, Scott? How do you feel?"

Scott could feel her worry; both from her tone, and from their link.

"I'm fine Jean."

Scott grimaced as she hugged him hard, and then drew back and kissed him. He kissed her back for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling, and then moved away, pressing a finger against her lips.

"Wait Jean. . . this can wait, there's something more important I have to tell you."

Jean looked at him searchingly, and a bit hungrily.

"What is it Scott? Are you sure you're not hurt?" Scott shook his head in exasperation.

"I'm fine Jean. Just fine. What's more important is him." He indicated the boy.

Jean looked at Nate.

"What's wrong with him? Is he alright?"

Scott could sense the worry in her. He wondered if, at some primitive level, she knew.

"Jean. . . down in the caverns, with Sinister. . ." He faltered not knowing how to say this.

Jean leaned forward concerned. Then she pushed him till he sat on the bed next to Nate's and floated a chair to her.

"Don't exert yourself Scott. Take your time. What did he say to you?" Her voice was laced with concern and love, as well as with a hint of steel. . . protective steel.

"It wasn't so much what he said, but rather what he revealed." Scott hesitated again, and then decided to blurt it out.

"Jean. . . Nate. . . Nate was an experiment of Sinister's. He used DNA samples of a male and female mutant to create an ultimate mutant, one with enough power to take on Apocalypse. Nate was that mutant."

Jean looked at the boy pityingly.

"Poor child. It's no wonder he's so bitter and caustic." She looked up at Scott. "That's not all is it? He looks familiar. . . do we know his 'parents'?"

Scott sighed.

"We do as a matter of fact. Sinister used our DNA to create him. He's our son Jean."

For a few seconds Jean stared at Scott unblinkingly. Scott stared back, waiting for some sort of reaction. Then Jean's face contorted in rage.

"That lousy sonofabitch! Bastard! How could he. . . I'll ki-. . . I'll. . . if I had known when he was alive. . . if. . ." Jean stopped speaking, but through the link Scott could feel her rage, her fury, and her. . . extreme feeling of loss? The last was overpowering now. Jean looked up, her face streaked with tears.

"For so long I've wanted a family Scott. A child of my own. Someone to love, to care for. He took it from me Scott! He took it away!"

Scott reached out instinctively and grasped Jean, holding her close. He didn't feel as strongly as Jean about it, but the loss was in him too. And through the link, it had grown even stronger. Sinister's last act of cruelty. . . one which burnt more, hurt more than any other.

x----------------------------x

If Victor Von Doom had one wish, just one to be anywhere else, to be anyone else, it was at the moment when he dispatched the signal for the extreme risk alarm. ERA. . . it was only to be used in two situations. In the case of an attack by enemy forces, or in the case of impending doom. He still didn't know what good the second condition did. It always seemed a little vague to him.

It had all started when he had gotten up early in the morning as was his custom, and begin his early exercises. He had just finished, when the call came through from Watch command. They had noticed some sort of anomaly. He had immediately gone to his command post, located in the same building of course, and asked to be put through to Truro, High Watch command. Although Watch command had been earlier based in Limerik and Dublin, with the wiping out of Ireland in one of Apocalypse's later assaults, Watch command had been shifted to Truro. Watch chief GW Bridge showed up on screen. Bridge was a good man. He had been with the Council for a long time. Von Doom had personally appointed him as head of the Watch.

"We've picked up an anomaly sir. It's coming form where the Sea Wall is. It's generally impossible to get any proper reading out of that region anyway due to the storms that keep whipping up, but lately, as I reported, there were extremely high energy readings coming form there. Only very high powered mutants could show energy signatures that high. However, there were no disturbances. . . till now. We still can't pick up anything of much use sir, but I think you should see this. It came up a few minutes after I called you."

GW Bridge's face disappeared, and a large view screen came up on the monitor. Von Doom stared at it. It was among many he had seen before, of the eastern coast of Ireland, standing tall and proud, yet with not a single inhabitant, rising forlornly out of the mists, and spray.

"What is it?" Von Doom couldn't see anything and he was getting irritated.

"Just wait sir. Watch for the signal lights."

The signal lights? The Council had installed several of them after Kelly's death. The west coast was filled with them. They allowed energy readings to be taken much beyond what Truro was capable of. He could see them, shining in the mists, a little dim. Everything seemed fine. The reel stopped.

"What happened?" Von Doom could not for the life of him see any anomaly.

"I'll play it again sir, pay close attention to the lights."

Von Doom trusted Bridge; otherwise anyone else would have gotten short shrift from him, especially this early in the morning.

He could see it again, the lights were all there. Wait a minute, one of them was winking on and . . . no, it was the fog, growing thicker, and then dissipating. Wait. . . the light was definitely off now. A malfunction?

"It's happened before hasn't it, Bridge? Why was this so important?"

Bridge's voice came over the comm. Again, not rushed, not hurried, but as patient as always, but with an undertone of excitement. This time there were energy readings on the side of the screen as well. They fluctuated slightly, but not much. There was the winking again. Suddenly the readings increased dramatically, and then the light went out, for good. Von Doom stared, his eyes widening slightly.

"Sir? Should I send a maintenance team, or. . .?"

Von Doom spoke finally.

"No. . . not a maintenance team. This is not good." He had a foreboding in his heart then, and knew dread.

"Bridge. . . order one of the sentinel parties scouting the region to investigate that area, immediately."

Bridge had replied in the affirmative. The sentinels had gone. The view screen had shown them, flying into the region. Then the energy levels had shot up again, and the sentinels had disappeared into the mist. Hailing them did no good. There was no response. A few minutes later, the entire eastern escarpment of Ireland had given way to a sight that would be ingrained in Von Dooms mind forever. The massive monolithic structure of a mighty and terrifying Sea Wall had broken through, thin red beam shooting out from each side of it, fading into the distance on either side. It carved a deadly swathe before it, and the sea had grown increasingly frenzied. In moments it had crossed the distance to fill the view screen. Another energy spike and then the camera had gone dead. High Watch was silent. The entire command room was silent. Von Doom had stood slowly, and turned towards the side of them room. He slid open the glass and steel protective casing, and entered the code for the ERA. And then he had sat down, and begun issuing orders. Orders to begin evacuation procedures, and to inform the Council that the Sea Wall had been expanded.

Orders he had hoped fervently he would never have to give.

He thought to himself now, a few minutes later. This was not the life he had imagined for himself. Serving others. He had intended to use his vast intellect to create a haven in Latveria. A haven with him at the helm. A way to finally prove his superiority over his one time best friend. Reed. . . Von Doom missed him sometimes. No one had kept him on his toes as much as Reed. He owed Reed and Ben Grimm his life. And he owed Apocalypse a debt for destroying his homeland. Apocalypse and his foul minions who had destroyed most of Eastern Europe and central Asia in the titanic battle against Earths heroes. Heroes that had been defeated, destroyed in the maelstrom created there.

However one good thing had come of it all. Sue. Reed's former girlfriend. He had promised to take care of him and her brother. A promise to Reed. He had kept that promise. He owed reed that much. Now. . . now he did not know what to do. Doom was upon them. With a name like his, he shouldn't be apprehensive of that fact, but he was. The people he had to keep safe were in dire peril. It was good he had taken action. With the way the Council had been recently, they would not have been able to make a decision till all of Eurasia lay in blackened ruins.

Von Doom stood. It was time. He had to get to his flagship, the Iron Doom. From there, he would begin retaliatory and evacuation measures. He headed for his personal quarters. He would break the news to Sue himself. Then he would ensure she got passage on an evacuation ship. Then he would change into his uniform. And finally he was going to activate all the Prime Sentinels. With his fleet and them, they should be able to hold back the Sea Wall for a good few hours. He would wait at Oxford for them. A fitting place. One of the seats of learning. A good place to die.

x--------------------x

Moira Trask. . . a name she had taken for her own. Moira was her birth name. Trask her chosen name. A name given to her when she had married the powerful and brilliant man, Dr. Bolivar Trask. Together they had created the Sentinels. A creation that had succored and protected their race. However, Moira had always known it would come to this. . . one day. She wondered for a few minutes if this attack was a sign that the X-men had failed. To her surprise, she found she didn't much care. To her, the X-men had been one man, Charles Xavier. With his death at the hands of the treacherous Prelate Cyclops, she had lost her only link to them. She had broken off all fleeting contacts with them when Cyclops had been accepted by them. Her teeth gritted together. Even if it was not all a ploy by Apocalypse, or Cyclops. . . she didn't care. The X-men meant nothing to her anymore. The fact had been proven clearly enough when she had stood aside when Von Doom had attempted to impede their progress in following Death to the Sea Wall.

It was irrelevant anyway. It didn't matter anymore. Right now all that mattered was her duty. To humans. To her kind. To her people. The ones who depended on her. Von Dooms alarm had come through to her, and she couldn't help wondering if they should not have been more prepared. Already there was little chance of even half evacuation by the time the Sea Wall's arrived. Truro was already gone, destroyed by the horrific power of the Sea Wall. Moira had received no final word, but the count she had last received posted fourteen dead, and seventeen critically wounded. Which effectively meant 31 dead. There would be no time to give them proper medical care.

Moira walked out of her room, wondering as to how she could best serve her people at this time.

Perhaps by listening to Von Doom. The man had presented them with a sort of coup d'tat, taking over power from the Council. Although she was of the Council, she didn't mind. . . much. Von Doom clearly knew what he was doing, and he had Susan Storms full approval, as well as Fisk's. which meant that three of the effective Council, four if Johnny had gotten over his rage over the Prime Sentinel incident. She could feel Mariko walking beside her, like a shadow, keeping just behind her. Her own personal protector. . .

Moira joined the rest of the council in the large hangar reserved for them specifically. The special ones. For a few minutes she felt guilty at being given a better chance of living. Then she thought that the people needed a leader, and. . . well she wanted to live. Their transport cruiser was smaller than the humongous transport and evacuation meta-craft that were being used to transport people out of London, and other places all over Eurasia. The hub was always London though. The place where almost a quarter of the entire human population resided. Twenty two million people. Give or take a hundred thousand or so. The exact count was configured in every computerized equipment in London. A necessary precaution, just in case of any loss of hardware. Failsafes had been input, Failsafes that would disallow even the most gifted hacker to break into the system.

Of course, it was useless information to anyone not interested in census figures and facts.

Mary Jane greeted her, her smile dimmed by the fear in her eyes. She looked around at the faces of her co-workers and compatriots for most of her life. Brian Braddock, Wilson Fisk, Jonathan Storm, Mary Jane Fisk, Valerie Cooper. Other faces, less precious, less important. The core of the Council stood before her. Apart from Brian Braddock, she was the most influential member of the Council, and after the recent fiasco with Death. . . well, Brian had sunk into the shadows. A pity. Before Deaths taking over him, he had been an intelligent and well rounded man. A man who knew how to decide and what to do. A powerful enough force to counter Von Dooms sometimes overly militant actions. However this time. . . this time she was in agreement with von Doom, and she knew Brian was as well.

Voices came from behind her and then Susan Storm and Victor Von Doom were there as well. Commander GW Bridge followed Von Doom. Bridge. A sensible man with a silly name. Moira had always liked him. A man of action like Von Doom, but who was far less Machiavellian in nature. Von Doom made Machiavelli himself seem like a liberal. Sue and Von Doom had been arguing. Moira had a fair idea what about. She turned and was about to speak, when finally Von Doom made a chopping motion with his hand, and turned away. Sue stood there, her head bowed, arms crossed. Johnny walked over to her. He hesitated near her, and then put a hand on her shoulder. Moira tried to edge closer and make out what they were saying, but she only caught the words 'Reed' and 'lose'.

Moira was puzzled, but figured it was a private matter. Meanwhile Von Doom was speaking.

"I am sorry to have taken power for you so abruptly. However it was necessary. As I speak the Iron Doom is readying itself for assault. Our three main battleships, along with the Iron Doom are ready for the assault. They will take the brunt of the fire, and attempt to hold the Sea Wall back. I will be straight with you ladies and gentlemen. I do not expect the crew of the battleships to survive. Our fleet is also taking flight as I speak. Some of them may survive. It is our job to ensure the safety of the human populace and its leaders. I will do that as best I can. I will lead the assault myself from the command ship, the Iron Doom. It has been a pleasure."

Von Doom turned and began walking away.

He stopped a few feet in front of Sue and her brother.

"I will relay any further instructions from the Iron Doom."

He then walked more forward, and nodded to Johnny.

Moira edged further closer and this time she could hear their conversation.

"I made a promise to a friend Johnny. Any decisions I have made concerning you or your sister have been made with that in mind. Uppermost in mind. I have always had your best interests at heart. I apologize for the seeming cruelty of my earlier actions, but I believed that it would have been safer that way. I apologize again. I have long looked after the two of you. You are well able to do that now. I only ask one thing. Take care of her. In our time together, I have. . . come to care for her deeply. She knows this, or at least, she should know this. I may not show it all the time. I may not even seem like I care. But I do care Susan. I care more than you will ever know."

Johnny heard Von Doom's speech impassively. He then bowed his head.

"I never liked you much Victor. You were always to rigid and commanding. But you did take care of me. And for whatever reason you gave my sister the happiest moments of her existence after this whole mess begun. For that I owe you everything that is important to me. Personal likes aside, I respect you for what you are. I will take care of her. You shouldn't even need to ask."

Johnny had never been so formal in his life Moira thought. He had never spoken so in front of her at least.

Sue shook herself out of her brother's embrace and then hugged Von Doom hard. Behind her Moira could tell some of the Council was feeling a little awkward, but they couldn't even heard the conversation.

Von Doom seemed a little taken aback at first, but the he hugged her back with a passion to rival Sue's. Sue looked up and cupped his cheek tenderly, and then leaned forward and kissed him. Von Doom took her kiss with a savage passion, and then broke away.

"No more Sue. I love you with all my being, but I have duty. Duty has always called me. Be well."

He turned and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him. Sue bowed her head and then turned to her brother.

"I love you too." Moira just barely made out the words. She locked eyes with Johnny over his sisters head.

He nodded at her, and then tilted his head to the side, holding up a couple of fingers. Moira understood. He wanted some private time. Time enough to console his sister. Moira understood.

She turned.

"No time to waste people. Let's begin evacuation. The rest of the fleet will not take off until we are in the air."

She began to shepherd the rest into the cruiser as in a corner of the large hangar Johnny held his sister. No matter what his words, Moira knew that Johnny looked up to Von Doom more than anyone else. He had cared for them since Sue's soon to be fiancé had died. Von Doom's friend and rival. Reed Richards. Moira had never met him, but form what little she had learnt he would have been the sort of man the Council needed the most. Patient, caring, understanding. A genius and capable of great reasoning. A natural leader.

However he was not, and they had to make do with what they had. She walked to the cruiser herself, with Mariko trailing as always. A comforting presence.

x------------------------------------x

In the cool darkness of his room, or the one assigned to him anyway Bishop wondered. He wondered about this world he was in. He didn't wonder how it all began of course. He knew that. He had always known that. He had been there. He had been there before too. Yet most of what he knew was so hazy. He knew Magneto, knew the X-men, knew what they were like. . . and yet he didn't. It was as if interspersed within and without the mental images of the X-men were those of other X-men, the same and yet not the same.

Different and yet so similar. And not just them, but more than them. Magneto was Magneto was Magneto. It went on in a spiral, showcasing the best and worst and everything in between. He was there, and yet he was not.

Bishop put a hand to his head.

He didn't want to think about it. He had lived for over 6 decades, and most of his life had been filled with confusion. For most of his life he had tried to deal with images. Images of completely different things. What was paramount was the faces of the X-men, and two or three others. A young woman with black hair, hanging onto the arm of a bald young man. Another much younger man, one with jet black hair, dressed in what seemed like a hospital gown, with the hair standing on end, as though held in place by static electricity. Every time Bishop remembered the young mans face he remembered a string of broken words.

Time. . . Legion. . . Gabrielle . . . failure. . . Magneto. . . Powers. . . Legion. . . Time. . . Legion. . . time. . . past key.

For the last 20 years he had tried to make sense of these words. Time and Legion were the most important, being repeated many times. What did it mean? Did it signify Apocalypses legions? A time for them to attack? No. . . it couldn't have been. 20 years ago Apocalypse was just beginning to show his face to the world. Perhaps the words were meant for then? And that he had failed? No. . . Somehow Bishop was sure that was not it. Magneto. . . apparently he had to get this to Magneto. . . or maybe Magneto had something to do with this. He was confused. . .

Bishop put a hand to his head. He was so confused. His mind told him to trust Magneto, but his instincts doubted, trusting on the one hand, and yet murderously distrustful the next. All he knew was this was all wrong. And he was also somehow convinced this was his fault.

He stood. . . it had to be tried. The words were important. . . and with three telepaths there, it was his best chance to find out what the words meant. He had to trust. . . it was the only chance. The only chance. . . that he was sure of.

x----------------------------------x

He could feel it. Needles in him, burning him, frozen one minute, boiling the next. Like a pincushion he was suspended in the air, stuck in free movement, a hundred needles stuck in him, and all connected to the massive tube he was in. No wait. . . he was learning. No he was alone. Was he playing? Like dust motes, true awareness seemed to slip out of his hands just as he grasped it. He could see it, but not touch it. Could not come into true contact with it. He made another try, a gasping try. He touched it. For one fleeting second. Yet in that second, a hundred sensations, no a thousand. . . more, a million sensations crowded into him. He could feel himself being stuck by needles. He could feel the liquid around him, holding him up. He could feel the mask on his face, the apparatus controlling his heart rate, breath rate. He could feel a large protuberance in his head. He could feel long hair. . . brown? - waving in front of him. He could see beyond him a world denied previously. A world that stung his eyes, so that he could not even see for the moment he could have seen. He saw glowing red eyes, and a glowing red. . . third eye? – no, diamond above and between them. And then he feel back into oblivion. But he now had something to think of. Glowing red eyes, a red diamond. Sinister. Feelings of hate surged through him. Yes, he had something to hate now. He had Sinister to hate. . .

Sinister. . . for his life. Fort the life Sinister had granted him, and then stripped away to use as a tool. Sinister for the murder of everyone he had ever cared for. Remy Lebeau had sacrificed himself to save Nate from Candra and Sinister, down in the catacombs, near the containment area in the Tower.

And then Sinister had murdered his new family. Forge, Therese, Toad, Soaran, Mastermind and poor old Brute. Sinister had murdered them without a care. Only so that he could train Nate. To fight Apocalypse. Something Nate would probably do anyway. Apocalypse had to be stopped.

Nate opened his eyes again. This time he could see fairly well, as the room was dark as well, lit only by the muted glow of the stairwell leading to the lower floor of the infirmary. He had woken only a few minutes ago, woken by the massive amount of grief that he could feel near him. The entire ship was mired in it. It was enough to give his marginally trained mind a headache. This wasn't what he had expected upon waking up.

Then again what had he expected? He had found the ones Forge had spoken of, fighting against Apocalypse's son himself, Holocaust. Nate had taken him on, and Nate had taken him down. It had however taken a lot out of Nate. His rest had healed him well enough though. He raised his head and touched a hand to his left eye. He knew it. It was glowing again. He suddenly felt a presence in the room, seconds before the shadows in the corner moved.

He watched warily as a tall man walked in, well built, with long flowing brown hair. His eyes were covered by a thin visor, with ruby glass covering the slit where his eyes would have shown. The visor had a long tube attached to the back of it which extended to his right hand. . . no, gauntlet. A massive armored gauntlet was strapped to his right arm. There was a matching one on the left, but without the tube. Strange. Nate remembered that this man had had tubes leading to both gauntlets for the brief time he had seen him during the fight with Holocaust.

Suddenly he felt another presence come alive, and a woman walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She had vibrant red hair, and a tattoo emblazoned around her left eye. Other than that she had rather unremarkable, if beautiful features.

The two looked down at him, and he could feel that they were deciding something, yet he could not read their minds, or even feel much more than suggestions.

The woman spoke.

"Welcome back Nate. My name is Jean. I'm one of the X-men, and this is Cyclops, an ally of the X-men, and defector from Apocalypse's ranks. . . just in case you've heard of Cyclops and remember him as being one of Apocalypse's lackeys." She tempered the last sentence with a smile, which he realized was meant to soothe the man next to her more than Nate.

"Yes. . . I. . . welcome you Nate. You and I have much in common Nate."

Nate looked form one to the other. They wanted something from him. He knew it, he could tell, even if he couldn't read them. For some reason though, he didn't think they meant any harm.

"In common? How could we have anything in common. . . and how come your.. you know, your minds are blocked. . .?"

Jean smiled at him, clearly at him this time.

"That's because of me. I have similar powers to your Nate, I'm both telepathic and telekinetic. You on the other hand are not only telepathic or telekinetic, but can wield the psionic power in almost anyway you want. . . Will you be more at ease if I opened my mind to you?"

Nate relaxed back against the pillows, her words somehow soothing, in fact her tone seemed soothing.

"No. . . It's alright. I just. . ."

Cyclops barked a laugh. A nervous laugh. Nate narrowed his eyes at him. Even Jean was nervous. He noted the look and seemed to steel himself before speaking.

"Call me Scott Nate. I'm gathering you already know we want to talk to you about something.. well. . . Nate. . . we know about your history. How you came to this world, so to speak."

Nate raised his eyebrows as Scott talked, and at the end, he jerked up in the bed.

"What? How can you know that? Who are. . . of course, you're the one time High prelate! Forge told me about you. . . but. . ."

Jean interrupted.

"He was the High prelate at one time Nate, not anymore. Now he's one of the X-men, in spirit if not in name. We found out about you form another source."

Scott silenced Jean with a wave of his hand, and then sat in a chair nearby the bed.

"I spent much of my life under the watchful eyes of Sinister. . . the man who created you. He was something of a father to me, but he betrayed me. . . he was only using me. He did the same to you. What he has done to us. . . not just you and me, but to Jean pales in comparison to everything else. Nate. . . your full name is Nate Gray correct?"

Nate was a bit confused. . . the name Sinister had agitated him, but Nate knew he was dead. He had killed him. He found that he pitied the man before him. . . and he now distrusted him. If Sinister had raised him he could be capable of anything. However he decided to bide his time for now.

"Yeah. . ."

Scott swallowed, and then spoke.

"Nate, my name is Scott Summers. . . and this woman, her name is Jean Gray."

A horrible suspicion began to grow in Nate, a dread that overcame all his earlier suspicion.

"Sinister matched our genetic code and found that we were perfectly matched. And from our DNA could a mutant be created that would be perfect in its genetic makeup. The most powerful mutant ever. You, Nate. . . you're the mutant."

Nate fell back against the headboard, his eyes open in shock. . . these two. . . these two were. . .

"We're your parents Nate."

At that Nate felt Jean's mind open to him, and like an extension of that he felt Scott's mind. He saw everything, Sinister's cruel experiments, the battles between the X-men and Apocalypse's forces, the fight against the horsemen, and the shining certainty that Jean and Scott were his parents. Nate didn't disbelieve them, and not just because of the images he was receiving, but because he knew, on some level that they were what they claimed. Especially Jean. Nate had already felt a closeness to her, and not just because of the similarity of their powers.

So this was what Sinister had denied him. And Nate knew one thing instinctively. They didn't know one another at all, and had no relationship to speak of, but the bond had been made with the revelation, indeed before that. In a truer time and place, Nate knew the three of them would have been together. However, here and now, he was glad to at least know who they were.

He didn't even realize it but he was clutching his head. He never realized he was crying. What he did realize was that he had just been given a gift. In a world that had given him nothing but pain and sorrow, Nate had found a family.

He felt himself being pulled into a warm body, and a harder hand place itself, tentatively on his shoulder. His mother, and his father. Comforting him. It was hard to believe. It was hard to resist. He let all his emotions and feelings loose, letting them course through the newly established link between them.

And they were at peace, for the moment. A peace that Nate, and his parents knew, would not last forever.

x------------------------------------x

Brigadier Alysande Stuart rushed frantically to her home. What had seemed like a routine morning had gone very very wrong. The weather wasn't helping either; it had been raining for the last few hours. Working the graveyard shift had never really appealed to her, but she herself had advocated rotating shifts for everyone, no matter what rank. Von Doom had seconded her in this, and the shifts had been announced. Having Von Doom's confidence had helped her a lot in attaining the position she now wielded. Only a select few had been given favored status by Von Doom, and she had been one of them. A graveyard shift at Portsmouth. . . what a joke. She'd been sipping her tea, waiting for the damn relief, a bloody pest of a lieutenant to arrive, when the Era had gone off. By the time she had managed to make head or tail of what was going on, and had received her orders from Von Doom, the damn Sea Wall had already taken out Lands End. By the time she was able to leave, Plymouth was gone. BY this time Exeter was gone too.

She laughed bitterly as she revved the ATCV into moving faster. All Terrain Combat Vehicles. . . they had seemed like a great asset. . . useless now. No match for the awesome power of the Security Grid Sea Wall 'towers'. At least they helped her in reaching her home faster. Not fast enough though. Behind her she could still hear the shuddering booms of the attack as it progressed. A long way away, and yet so close. If she looked hard enough she could see the silhouettes of the Sea Walls. A peal of thunder sounded, or was it an explosion? Alysande couldn't be certain.

Ahead of her she could see the enormous bodies of the Transport Ships. Loading. She hoped Alistaire had contacted one of the neighbors. Perhaps he was already sitting in one of the ships. . . Fat Chance. . . Alistaire wouldn't have left without her. Same way she was going back to him. Going AWOL as it were. . . Von Doom had wanted them to remain at the hangar. Stay with the 'Iron Doom'. Not her. Disobedience. . . not something she had ever done before. Not that it mattered anymore. Rank didn't matter now.

Nothing mattered anymore, nothing but survival. Her and Alistaire's. She knew she wasn't the only one to think in this way. A lot of the others had split as well. The "Iron Doom" was being manned by about three quarters of the crew it was expected to have. That Von Doom expected it to have. She laughed bitterly, with wild hilarity. Why the hell did the Sea Walls have to come now? She should have expected it, with the attack of the horseman Death, and with the X-men chasing after it. . . it had all seemed like one big bad omen. Von Doom had already begun to recall all Sentinels to mount a defense. But no defense could hold back the Sea Wall. Not even the PRIME Sentinels could hold them back, despite all their added power. The PRIME's were meant for use against mutant threats. Nothing they had could fight against the Sea Wall's. . . with the exception of the nuclear arsenal, and the force needed to take down one Sea Wall would leave their homeland a ruin, inhabitable for anyone. Her mind shied away from that prospect. She had to get home quickly, and see to getting on board a Transport Ship.

She could see people running away, most of the neighborhood already empty. Doors had been left open, lights left on. The news would have come as a completer surprise, and people would have run immediately. She hoped Alistaire had already gotten away. She screeched to a halt in front of her and her brothers home and ran inside.

"Alistaire? Where are you?"

She heard a reply from their living room. He was here. She felt happy as well as sad. Happy she could save him, go with him, and sad that he was not already on his way. Ever since the fateful battle all those years ago, the battle that had cost Alistaire his legs. . . Alysande had been looking after him, taking over the job that had been his. Succeeding in the job at least as well as Alistaire could have hoped for. Their relationship had always been strange, always changing. They had at first been friendly rivals, the brother and sister, engaged in the same profession, that of being a soldier. Alistaire had been good, as had Alysande, and the patriarchal nature of society had seen fit to advance Alistaire. Alysande had been jealous. Not so friendly anymore. Then Alistaire had his legs shattered in a battle with the Reavers. He had been honorably discharged, given medals and honors. And his spirit had been broken. Alysande had grieved for her brothers loss, and had secretly been glad as well. Now she would have no brother to overshadow her, she could prove herself. And she had, succeeding in every way her brother had before her. The roles had been reversed. Alysande took care of her brother, and he in turn was jealous of her. Everything he wanted to accomplish was being done by his sister.

In many ways the ever changing nature of their relationship was the only thing that had sustained it. Despite the jealousy and rivalry, they were close. Perhaps closer for the jealousy and rivalry. She protected him, and he resented her for it. Earlier that had been a problem, especially with her guilt. Guilt spawned of her happiness in her circumstances. Over time however, the guilt had gone, and she had slowly repaired her relationship with her brother. Though it could be strained at times, especially when he was being melancholy, patience would win out. She shared her life with him, and he advised her as and when he could, and she took the advice when she found it pertinent. In many ways he had become an extension of her, and their thinking patterns were so alike, she had been considering asking Von Doom to install him in an advisory position. Not that it mattered now.

"I've heard the sirens sister. I suppose we're off then?" Alistaire could be the master of the understatement when he chose.

"Yes Ali'. It's Apocalypse. He's expanded the Security Grid." Alysande ran around the room, making certain Alistaire hadn't forgotten anything.

"Oh really? The security perimeter grid? You don't say!" Sarcastic as hell too. "Stop stating the obvious Aly'. I know what's goin' on. I was in the army too. . . or have you forgotten. Getting out of here's gonna be bloody difficult. It's pandemonium everywhere. Few people I've called, and who've bothered to answer tell me the same bloody thing. They're standing in the lines, waiting for the shuttles to transport them up. You should have gone up with Von Doom. At least that way you'd have been in the air. Could've stolen a fighter and run or something."

Maybe he was right; Alysande didn't want to waste time debating.

"That's beside the point now Ali'. You've got all the supplies, and we've got to go now. The ATCV I've stolen will help only so much. The Sea Wall's are moving at a horrifying rate. Von Doom's concentrating the forces a few miles east of here, so we've got to run fast. Won't be nothing stopping them. We'll head for Southampton. That's the nearest loading zone. London will be too packed. They're going to stage a stand at Stonehenge, so we can most likely make it if we go to Southampton."

Alistaire nodded. The two of them got to work quickly, and in a few minutes they were in the ATCV. Alysande shifted into high gear and the two roared their way out of the sleepy town they had called home. A deserted town now.

A few miles later, Alysande wondered if it was the best choice. The 'Iron Doom' had lifted off, that much she knew from the broadcasts on her radio, and the Sentinels were in position in Stonehenge, with cavalry in Salisbury. Too close for comfort. Ahead of her she could see the explosions. In her mind she could imagine the people dying. It couldn't matter anymore. Only she and Alistaire mattered now. Only their survival. Ahead she could make out Southampton. Shuttles were lifting off, and flying towards the Transport Ships. The Ships located in strategic locations across the Councils area of writ. She heard more frantic reports on the radio. The Sea Walls had been sighted in Stonehenge. The battle had begun.

". . . They're coming. . . Holy good God. . . they're fucking massive! . . . All right, squadron A, take the ones on the left, and squadron B the ones on the right. Hit and run only! We have to figure out what these bastards are made of, what they can and cannot withstand. Von Doom's ordered the PRIME's to be kept back for- Holy Shit! That motherfucker just. . . sonofabitch. I've never seen nothing do that to a Sentinel before. Oh these bastards. . . not just the Walls, but those damn Infinites too! Sonofabitch. . . There must be over a thousand of them. Oh fuck. . . call up flight C and D! Now! Fuck hit and run, take it to the bastards. Mr. von Doom. . . I'm calling in one flight of PRIME's. . . we need them here."

Alistaire's mouth grew set and grim as he heard the play-by-play over the radio. GW Bridge. A good man. A man Alysande respected. He must on the 'Iron Doom' carrying out Von Doom's orders. Where she should have been. Alysande didn't feel any guilt. She had to survive. That was all there was to it. The commentary grew more frantic. They were taking heavy hits. At least this wasn't even a third of the total fleet. The battleships were assaulting now. Nothing. She could hear the battle taking place, miles away. She could almost see it in the growing light. Explosions, and tiny figures, surrounding the much larger Sea Walls. She couldn't see the Sentinels or the Infinites from this far.

Then she heard it.

"Retreat! This is Commander GW Bridge, and I'm calling a full retreat! We'll regroup in London. Back off!"

Alysande's mouth grew dry with fear. Too soon. This was too soon. The Sea Wall's would arrive in Southampton the same time as them. She pushed the ATCV harder. Beside her Alistaire's face had gotten even grimmer. She had to push harder.

Southampton seemed deserted when they arrived, but Alysande could hear the shouts of people up ahead. Behind them she could hear the death knell. . . the sound of the approaching Sea Wall's, and the explosions and screams accompanying them. Alysande wondered if it was the people they had left behind them that were screaming. Due to their ATCV they could move much faster than others. They could survive. The heat gauge was almost in red. She had pushed the vehicle to its limit. More of this and it would die out, the engine becoming too hot. If she pushed harder it might even catch on fire. God knew there were enough fires around here to burn her, Alistaire and the ATCV in seconds.

"Why the hell have we stopped? Get a move on you bloody cow!"

Alysande glared at her brother, before getting back in and shifting gear.

"You're lucky to be blood kin to me arsehole, or I'd leave you here."

Alistaire laughed at her reply.

They moved fast, skirting mounds of rubble and mangled remains of cars. It looked like a war zone. And the Sea Wall was yet to arrive.

Alysande pulled out a map of the city. Her finger followed the key until it found what she wanted.

"The nearest shuttle is a kilometer away, west of here. . . We can make it there just in time."

Alistaire nodded impatiently, and they headed for the shuttle. Alysande risked a look back in the rearview mirror. The damn Sea Wall's loomed large in her line of sight. They were minutes away. But so were they.

She screeched to a halt a few feet behind a panicked mob of hundreds of people. Too many. And with Alistaire's condition they would never be able to get by in an orderly manner. Not in time. And the shuttle could only hold a few more people.

"Oh this is bloody brilliant."

Alysande's mouth set in a grim line. The Sea Wall's were too close. Their dark shadow already fell across them, and people screamed louder and tried harder to get ahead. Several people had already been trampled underfoot. A stench of blood, sweat and smoke was mixed in the air. Despite being used to it, the smoke stung her eyes. She scrunched her nose, and looked with pitiless eyes at the humans before her. The humans she had given oath to protect. Her people. But she had to live, she and Alistaire. It had to be done. She pulled a state of the art, heavy artillery ordnance from where she had left it behind her seat. It had enough spare shells to last a good long while. Enough to clear a path for her. Stark Industries had done better than expected with this model. It was not just cutting edge, it was the standard that all other companies tried to copy. The PRIME's were equipped with these as well, as secondary ordnance.

The terrified humans had barely any time to react. The assault rifle cut a heavy swathe through the bodies, leaving them torn and mangled. Red blood sprayed across the square, and the people up ahead in the mob turned in despair to meet their doom at the hands of one of their own.

Alysande stopped finally. It seemed as though minutes had passed, when it was only seconds. The eerie silence was broken only by the cries and moans of the wounded, and the explosions behind them.

"Come on Ali'. . . we have to get out of here, now."

She helped Alistaire out of the ATCV and onto the ground. She navigated him across and around the bodies and up to the shuttle. As she pushed Alistaire in through the doors, she felt something cold pressed against her leg. She heard the shot and then felt the growing cold in her leg. She fell back, just outside the door and looked up in shock at Alistaire's face. At the cold smile there.

"Ah, Aly. Why so surprised? Surely you didn't think I cared for you in any way?"

Alysande tried to speak, but she couldn't form the words. Her femoral. Alistaire had shot her in the femoral and she could feel her life blood seep away. Why? And why now? When freedom was so close?

"You wonder why don't you Aly'? It's simple Aly', very very simple. You took everything away from me! My life! My career! Everything I could have been you took from me! I've hated you for it, secretly nursing my hatred, not letting you see it. Until this day, when finally the Sea Walls crossed the Atlantic and laid waste to Eurasia. I was worried when the horseman Death was revealed, and then later when the Sea Walls did not arrive as planned. A delay, but it has all gone as planned. Apocalypse himself could not have done better! I planned this with Death and his stooge, Brian Braddock. For years now I have been gathering information, and now finally it had come to fruit. I shall be one of the leaders of the remaining humans, and if all goes as planned, the only military leader. Once again I shall live as I was meant to! With the reigns of command in my hand! Farewell Alysande."

Alistaire turned around and left Alysande lying before the Shuttle doors, bleeding to death, knowing that doom would come for her certainly. Either from blood loss, or from the fiery death behind her. The shuttles engines came to life and it began hovering in the air, and then slowly began lifting off. Around her people cried in despair as the shuttle lifted higher and higher. Alysande would have screamed herself, if she could work up the strength. Or the will. Her brother hated her, and resented her. Why? She had done her best with him, and it had seemed like they were happy. Why? What had she done to deserve this? Alysande closed her eyes and waited for cold oblivion to take over her.

Alistaire chortled as he wheeled over to a window, pushing aside all in his way. With the small Glock he clenched in his fist, people gave him enough room. They had seen what he and Alysande had done. He began laughing out loud as eh thought of his sister. The exquisiteness of it! The pain, horror and pure shock in her eyes. It nearly made all those years spent with her worthwhile. He looked out the window and his laughter stopped. He had not factored this into his plans. The robotic face of an Infinite looked in. beyond it he could see hundreds more. Alistaire screamed in frustration and then the entire shuttle exploded, carrying his scream, and those of a thousand others on board out into the air.

As the shuttles debris landed, the Sea Walls continued their bloody trek through Eurasia, destroying all. And Von Dooms forces gathered in London for the final stand.

Yeah, that's it for this bit. . .

Hope you don't mind my stuffing in the two Stuart siblings. . . kinda wanted an easier point of view than two thousand nameless people running about getting fried by the Sea Walls. . ..

Boobles. . .