A/N: I can't express how sorry I am for the colossal wait - over 2 years and 3 months is inexcusable (but I'm afraid that real life and writer's block can do that to you...), so a million thanks go to all readers who continue to follow this fic, to all new ones who have joined the ride in the meantime and to Claremonty and Angelpaint07 for their reviews (this is definitely not the end, guys - far from it :-).
New Chap is right below - hopefully, it won't disappoint, and as always, would love to know your thoughts (I've been playing a bit with comic cannon as usual, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this won't offend any sensibilities):
Chapter 24: Phoenix Rising – Part VII: Threads Of Night, Whispers Of Fire
There was a peculiar stillness in the air that didn't sit right with the ever-changing nature of his surroundings, but impressions aside, he knew he had to hurry if he wished to finally make some progress in his project. However, as his trice cursed luck, if he had any to begin with (a point up for much debate he wagered), would have it, not a couple of paces down the passageway he had discovered in this part of their realm he was halted by cries of "Master Inferno, master Inferno!"
Brushing stray raven locks out of dark green eyes, whose morbid wisdom looked way out of place to the form of a human-looking boy of about twelve he had seemingly been stuck in since his creation, the young demon heaved a laboured sigh before addressing his callers "What is it now!? I may have been spawned a mere breath ago by our standards, but even Mephisto, as senile as he can be at times, should be well-aware by now that I hardly need a perpetual horde of babysitters tailing my every step."
The stress he put in those two particular words and the blatant reprisal-less disrespect for their sovereign infused therein sent the group of small imps collectively known as Legion scurrying for cover, their roundish black forms and glowing beady gazes cowering before the new heir of Alterna. At the lack of any bodily or other harm, however, the team regained fast their bearings, daring to carefully approach the glowering youth as if he were a cornered wild animal, the boldest of the lot making a hasty bow before beseeching their young master "We're sorry, milord, but we are charged with your safety, and this part of the realm is wrought with danger, even for someone as powerful as yourself."
Their addressee's first reaction to such statement was to hurl a narrow-eyed glare at the group, which made their fur stand on end from obvious discomfort bordering on outright terror. Though, mere seconds later, having detected the genuine care in his weary band of diligent shadows, the ill-concealed worry in their bewilderedly blinking dark orbs made his whole countenance relax visibly, earning their collective wave of relief. What he hadn't missed, regardless, was that, as every other time they had warned him of peril in a particular section of their dimension, like at present, it concerned a single region where such 'risky' places turned out to all rather suspiciously be centred in.
Couple that with his lively band of small guardians showing up like clockwork on each occasion when he had been about to continue his quest in these areas, and the one who would one day be known as the Fear-monger couldn't help drawing the sole possible conclusion. Mephisto was keeping him deliberately from this specific region, which could only mean that he was aware of what his charge was searching for. And this highly unpleasant deduction only left the child-looking demon berating himself silently, as he must have let his mind slip for however little, thus revealing to his older counterpart the subject of his deepest curiosity.
Tales of their realm's Heart had long piqued the interest of many, least not of all Alterna's new heir, especially since it had, for no apparent reason, become mysteriously impossible to find for the last nearly three years. The whole situation couldn't make it more obvious that his creator, who sole had full command over their dimension's structure and shape, was at the bottom of this odd occurrence, very probably involving something he desperately wished to keep hidden. What exactly was anyone's guess, though rumours in that respect abounded, and Inferno was fortunate that the inhabitants of their realm hardly ever kept even their wildest speculations to themselves – in particular the ones concerning his predecessor.
It was a topic that to this day remained permeated with a hefty dose of mystery and a lot of points which simply didn't fit, chiefly relating to Blackheart's more than sudden disappearance and all others' reluctance to discuss his fate. But the former second-in-command's successor was already aware of the elder demon's 'transgressions' against their common genitor, and was intelligent enough to grasp that the latter undoubtedly had a hand in this, so even his own offspring weren't safe. Truth be told, Inferno was already wary of the Red One, a deep-seated instinct combined with sharp observation skills having helped him catch on the narrow-eyed looks and mistrustful, sometimes even dismissive, behaviour from his sire.
Did he expect his new protégé to explode anytime in his face, so to speak? And if so, then why had he bothered with creating another, when the first had proven to be prone to rebellion and, in all honesty, so was the second? After all, it certainly wasn't in the young dark-dweller's nature to bow to anyone, even his progenitor…then, for what reason was history repeating itself? As much as he would have liked to dwell further on the matter, however, a tug on his hand snatched him from his train of thought, and the somewhat expectant gazes of the small imps who formed his sort-of personal guard alerted him quickly to an inexcusable mishap.
Using his swiftly growing abilities to mould their realm, the black-haired youth cut through the endless twists and labyrinths of Alterna, only to end up, a bit out of force, in Mephisto's throne room. "You are late again, young one." came the more than expected admonishment, though the flat tone belied his creator's simmering displeasure. "Pardon me, grandsire" Inferno bit out the last, knowing how much the other hated that particular name, even if the reasons for it remained elusive "I was exploring the Scarlet Shores, and time disagreed with me - again."
It was only half a lie in the end, as he had indeed been close to said location, and his mental shields seemed to fully hold this time, since the older demon didn't call him on it rather steering elsewhere, the seriousness of his next words making the younger straighten up "You are well aware that I remain the only other who fully commands the Dark Force in our realm, hence the sole who could ever help you master your own powers. But this repeated neglect for your training may strongly suggest disinterest towards such an end – and you are after all intelligent enough to surmise the consequences of such an outcome."
The thinly veiled threat wasn't lost to his charge, who only gave a nod in acquiescence, as his elder was right even if just in regard to the danger he'd otherwise pose to himself. Still, it had been fortunate that Mephisto hadn't picked up on the full extent of his protégé's abilities, especially one certain of them which was unknowingly reflected in the name the youth had received at his creation. The first and, thankfully for his hide, last time when it had manifested, it had left the newly-spawned demon in the throes of one of the worst storms of fear he himself, true to his moniker, could ever hope to one day inspire in the hapless light-dwellers.
Contrary to appearances, he had listened carefully in his sire's lessons, and was already aware that fire-related powers were far from unheard of in all of the Dark Realms. But what he had felt surging through his veins that one time had been nothing like what any of their kin could ever boast in terms of talents in this area… Especially, given that as a result, their dimension was now several sections short – incinerated into oblivion and, as it proved afterwards, also impossible to recreate. Needless to say, Inferno kept this well to himself, following a bit of research, which had in turn yielded quite the interesting information as to the nature and possible origins of this one ability.
That it hadn't destroyed him in the process, what with his persistent inability to shed his humanoid guise, and his sire's ostensible complete ignorance of this occurrence, had only given more ground to the youth's, till then rather tentative, conclusions on the matter. The more than odd, occasional whispered remark he'd catch from Mephisto and the emergences of certain traits his newest spawn had quickly learned were reserved for the light-worlders, had been the final pieces of the puzzle. And even if the end-picture still left the child-looking demon's mind spinning each time it so much as breezed in that direction, he remained acutely privy that he couldn't afford to be overwhelmed by the sheer impossibility of the, now more than probable, truth behind his creation.
Add to that his genitor's rather obvious efforts to conceal said reality, and the young demon was only left with more questions than he had begun with – and with little to no hope in ever learning what lay beneath them. He often wondered whether the mystery of Blackheart's vanishing in thin air so to speak, and the myriad of unanswered strings which seemed to weave his own existence could be in any way related. Had his predecessor perhaps tried to sabotage Inferno's creation, having discovered a new spawn of Mephisto was in the works, who would wield a power so utterly out of their worlds, and thus a pretty apparent threat to his own standing?
It could certainly explain why their common creator fought fang and claw to keep him out of all touch with his former lieutenant, in what could only be described as fear of losing his latest childe. But said young demon couldn't help the nagging sensation that the loss in this case wasn't meant literally, as their elder's confidence in his newer offspring's continued future was unshakeable – unwanted influence, then? If that were the reason, the youngster thought with an internal smirk it was perhaps too late, as he had been under external 'guidance' of sorts for quite a while already.
Truth be told, he didn't completely trust his impromptu disembodied aide either, being well privy that listening to unknown voices only heard by oneself, without second thought, wasn't exactly healthy either. Still, whoever it was that called to him from time to time, including luckily also at that breathless instance of near-death experience, when his inmost secret had practically exploded from within, was clearly just as invested as Mephisto in keeping him alive. Even so, the young demon's unseen guide had, at least ostensibly, rather different reasons in that regard, the startling not to mention plain, fondness for lack of a better word which he treated Inferno with prompted the latter to give him at least the benefit of doubt.
The pointers received had always been helpful, and the other had gone so far as to offer the occasional comfort to the youngster, much to the latter's astonishment. Though, the most baffling element remained the strange connection the new heir of Alterna couldn't shake the feeling he had always in a way had with his guide – and which amplified his equally as inexplicable pull towards the Light Worlds. Nonetheless, Inferno's innate practicality (a lifesaver, if he ever saw one) never let him consider long the pronounced oddity of these circumstances, his self-preservation instinct easily winning over his just as acute curiosity on the matter.
If he was sometimes trust into visions of burning stars and enticing black holes, and sensed the doubtlessly illusory, blazing caress of a flame-born winged raptor, only to be shattered by a pair of haunting emerald eyes, chillingly alike his own yet that couldn't possibly exist, he let it slide. These could be nothing other than products of his imagination, and it had never been a secret that it bordered on boundless – in the end, Mephisto did prefer his offspring to have an independent, thinking mind. But ignoring the uncomfortable, or what one simply couldn't deal with, never made it disappear…
And more often than not, the child-looking demon found himself wondering whether, in light of the past, this wasn't another ploy, a twisted way of control of his progenitor, anxious to preserve his place of power by viciously playing with Inferno's sanity. Or was this a flaw in his creation, a slip most probably on purpose, and for the very same reason? Though, quite possibly against better judgement, the green-eyed dark-dweller didn't entertain these morbid reflections for long on any occasion. Whatever it was his, maybe delusional, mind was fervently trying to force him into realising was too overwhelming, too powerful of a notion to not be real.
Yet he yearned more than anything to just make it vanish, or he was dead-certain it would otherwise torment him into an early end of his eternity. And the only way out of this whole situation progressively seemed to actually be the craziest possible. Only half-listening to Mephisto's instructions, the young hell-spawn couldn't help the shiver of unadulterated excitement at having to go to the core of the matter, suddenly finding himself aware of exactly where to start. After all, it was unsettlingly too often, that flashes of that same, darkly evocative emerald gaze would storm through the unfathomable chaos of his hidden helper's mind…
Winter had come early this year, noted the petite brunette silently, as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of her coat and the side of her mountain of a husband, both herself and her sister-in-law unwittingly using him as an improvised furnace. Having had to abandon their car a couple of miles back for security reasons, their small stature caused them to frequently trip over their own feet in the growing snow piles covering their way, solely the steady arms of the tall man between them holding them away from falling. Sixteen year-old Illyana, who was accompanying the adult pair for only the second time, still couldn't help being overwhelmed at the sight that greeted them beyond the heavily-manned portal, rapt blue eyes drinking in the array of armed soldiers, lights and shouted orders.
With a quick encouraging smile from the guard who checked their ID's, they were ushered through the various scanners in the inner court, before they were pretty much bowelled over by one of their usual interlocutors. "Ah, the Rasputinovi!" met them the uncharacteristically enthusiastic salute from a man Piotr regarded with unhidden distaste, and Kitty couldn't really stand to be with in the same room for more than five minutes, namely the head of the psychiatric ward housed in the complex. "You're coming in right on time, he was asking for you the entire week – was quite restless actually."
At these particular words of his Colossus locked a befuddled gaze with his wife, as this may have been a planned visit, but neither side was aware when precisely it was going to happen. Dr Bondarev, however, continued, seemingly not having registered his addressees' nonplussed air, while leading them through the maze of corridors and entrances towards the lower levels of the bunker, where those of the residents considered the most dangerous were held "You'll have to excuse us, it's a right mess these days - one of our other patients piqued a crisis at a very inopportune moment, and I fear, since it was his neighbour, that it may have affected your brother's already quite fragile state of mind."
At that last, the taller man couldn't hold back a right murderous frown, fixing his best death glare on the psychiatrist, not caring if he was breaching half the conduct protocols of the facility by visibly threatening the personnel "Whatever do you mean?" The medic did shiver, even if to his credit, such reaction didn't last as long as the one who strove to elicit it would have liked, his expression shifting to thoughtful "Well, he did start having some rather disturbing hallucinations – in addition to the ones he has already displayed that is, and his powers…let's just say we had to ensure he didn't hurt himself, or anybody else for that matter."
Only Shadowcat's trained X-Men reflexes managed to, and even so just barely, halt her husband from strangling the other man at the mere hint that they had had to restrain his sibling by force like a rabid animal. "My brother" he gritted out "is neither a mindless beast, nor insane to begin with – we both know that I put up with this farce only for the sake of the rest of my family! We will see him now, and he had better not be in any condition which I won't like, or so help me not even my wife will save you!" The psychiatrist's at least outwardly unbothered expression at that nearly caused the tall Russian mutant to clench the hand he already had around the other man's throat, but he remembered himself in the last moment withdrawing slightly.
Instead, he opted for pinning said male with the downright murderous expression he had mastered over the years, voice deceptively even and every syllable laced with icy loathing "We are not finished, doctor - throw your worst at me I don't care, but whatever it takes me, I will get Misha out of this hellhole." At this point, his sister too was ready to pounce on the errant medic, and Kitty couldn't really blame her, aware that she was that the fate of her eldest brother had left another gaping wound in the teen girl's already quite fragile self.
They had lost their parents when the younger female mutant had been just out of kindergarten, and despite the willingness of several relatives to take in his younger siblings, Mikhail, then fresh in his twenties and a rising name in the aviation forces, had put his foot down against it. As none of their kin would have been able to take care of both a teenager and a pre-schooler, the eldest, barely into adulthood himself, had taken on the role of a parent to avoid an otherwise inevitable separation. To Piotr and Illyana he was much more than that, he had been their axis, their world for years, and there was nothing the three of them wouldn't do for each other.
Still, by an unfortunate combination of circumstances, when Magneto had taken their sister hostage (even if she had actually been well taken care of), Mikhail had just begun a six-month space exploration mission. Colossus, by then having assumed on a shared basis caring for the girl, hadn't even dared mention the whole debacle to his elder until well after the latter's return home, when all had thankfully been already resolved. His own searing guilt on the matter he had never fully overcome, but to this day, nothing devastated the younger man more than seeing the indelible scars of self-blame that had, to his dismay, always been there, etched in the depths of their brother's eternally troubled eyes.
And misery really seemed to dog their steps, the trip back through the Earth's atmosphere, then still saturated with the energy previously expelled by the Eye of Ages, having jumpstarted the eldest Rasputinov's latent X-Factor, flinging him into near self-destruction. That he had survived, and managed to actually rein in the annihilating forces of his DNA long enough for his siblings to call in certain of the X-Men to help him control his new abilities, was only a testament to his strength. So, to know, to in fact see his brother reduced to a mere spectre of the man who had pretty much turned the world for his family, was unquestionably amongst the younger male's worst nightmares. But he couldn't afford to give in to his own worst agony, not now that he had been so cruelly plunged into filling the very shoes he knew, for the life of him, he'd never even hope to be able to, even if he was equally as certain that he'd die trying regardless.
With a light squeeze to the pair of feminine hands he'd grasped in his own once again, while desperately pushing at his best efforts to calm down, he turned again to the finally, suitably terrified out of his wits psychiatrist. The latter, to his admittedly insane, if immensely satisfying delight, actually had the look of someone who'd just faced a raging monster and still couldn't figure out whether they had pulled through for real. And Piotr couldn't help taking full advantage, the grin he suddenly found himself sporting would put a starving tiger facing fresh meat to shame, his voice coming out as a nerve-freezing, low near-growl "Lead the way, doctor." The, now quite jumpy, older man launched forward akin to a cannon shot, clearly anxious to be out of his current company as soon as possible, much to the trio's rising, although a bit sadistic, glee.
Still, it did get them in the waiting room adjoining the elder Rasputin brother's quarters faster than normal, so they weren't about to even dare look a gift horse in the mouth. Colossus moved to enter first, his two female companions usually following in a subsequent stage, but this time the psychiatrist halted him in his tracks with a look of grim forewarning. "He asked to see your wife first…alone." which made the visitors exchange a trio of highly bewildered gazes, as their kinsman had never before made any such specific requests. Regardless, with another silent communication, they acquiesced, the same disturbing musing whirling in both Kitty's and her husband's minds, that this sudden shift in routine couldn't possibly be a coincidence.
And knowing how things usually went for them and their entourage, whatever had prompted the change couldn't spell anything good. A light comforting grasp of the tall Russian's slightly trembling fingers later, and the phasing mutant found herself in the sterile in its spartanly clear-cut lines parlour of sorts, which preceded the entry into her brother-in-law's quarters, with a considerably fidgety psychiatrist in tow. "He's oddly calm now..." the latter remarked only for her attention, when he peaked on his patient as was procedure before any visitor was let in, a darkening expression stealing in the planes of his weathered face, as he fixed her determinedly "And this is never a promising sign, madam, so watch yourself."
Shadowcat could only nod absently, the hints of danger in the doctor's address not bothering her much – after all, with her powers she could easily hightail it out of there, if push came to shove. What did actually put her on edge was that, once the entrance door shut behind her, instead of in the spacious quarters assigned to the high-ranking patients, she had dropped right in the middle of a black void interspersed with distant, fading bouts of light. A silent scream of shock tore through her whole being, and she braced herself for whether the shattering impact of a fall into the abyss or dispersing into a million sparks of agony, she didn't know. Only to instead surface a split second, that lasted as if an eternity, later into the confines of the blindingly white walls of Mikhail's rooms properly speaking.
She struggled to remain upright, suddenly feeling utterly boneless and not in the good way either, in the wake of this latest inexplicable incident. Still, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the quiet, yet powerful voice which shattered the oppressive cocoon formed by her wildly thumping heart's ominous sound, instead enfolding her prone self akin to a dome of resonance "Hmm, I couldn't quite get it right this time – a shame, really." A sigh, heavy with a foreboding kind of dejection, escaped her host's being, as she noticed his tall form pressed almost eagerly to that of his quarters' walls which she knew was turned outwards to the complex's exit...and the night sky beyond its confines. It was in fact the favourite spot of sorts of her brother-in-law, if one could even have such in the glorified prison he was stuck in.
And no wonder really, recalling now that her husband had once long ago mentioned, seemingly in passing, that his older brother's devotion to his family could only ever be rivalled by the soul-deep love he held for the stars. His near-otherworldly in its intensity bond with the celestial had brought him first in the air forces, and then to the cosmonautic division...and had also helped cross his path with Jean's. None of them had ever understood the unrivalled belonging the black-haired man appeared to drown in every time he was up there, within the very folds of the universe, no one except the woman who had in a way proven to be the embodiment of his unreachable eternal flames.
Kitty may be amongst the rest of them unprivileged lot, however, her observation skills weren't lacking either, having more than picked up on the way her host had always looked at his Earth-bound star...like he'd forsake all or lay it at her feet...if she'd just say the word. And it left the brunette reeling from this abrupt revelation of the sheer power of what could bind one being to another. But in the end, it hadn't been enough, his own being turning against him as his mind could never be restored, the nature of his abilities ensuring that any further intervention, regardless of intent, would only do more harm. It had been mere luck, that the damage had not left even more profound scars, his fragile psyche instead withdrawing into itself, if only to preserve him from the assault of his wild array of volatile powers.
His powers...realisation crashed into her thoughts akin to a tsunami, suddenly feverish mind piecing the puzzle together, in a frantic endeavour to confirm what she should have grasped from the onset. When she had stumbled through his door so to speak, what the military scientists had identified as a form of reality manipulation had been trying to recreate at least one part of what he'd lost, in a final desperate attempt to have something to hold on to. The relief flooding her shaken self at that awareness sadly lasted only bare breathless seconds, as with the force of a rip in the fabric of the Universe itself, the ghostlike voice of the man in her presence shot through her senses once again "Not a memory, too may of these...no - only wanted to live through once more...what she saw...when we drowned in each other..."
The agonising longing in those three letters left not a speck of doubt as to whom he was referring to, irrespective of Kitty's lingering confusion as to what he'd meant. That latter didn't last long though, a haunted trace of a smile lighting up his otherwise horrifyingly hollow eyes, while he went on, miles away from reality in a world which was now, to their worst dismay, nothing more than a chimera. "Like most of us, I wanted a codename...a rather silly notion really, all here know me, but...she called me Cosmos...'the one part of Creation which nothing can rival in beauty...home..'", his lips pulled in the sort of grin one gave a co-conspirator, as with a gust of air he materialised right in front of his flabbergasted visitor, winking at her for good measure "And that's the one thing neither they, nor even he can take from me..."
In a blink, he ported straight back out of her personal space, putting a good couple of feet between them, his elaboration throwing Shadowcat in for a new loop when he frowned, biting out acidly "He was the one who awakened each of us, most against our will or without our knowledge I might add, and then he has the gall to be pissed about us acting accordingly! And when it's all taken back, the sole that's actually retrieved is the power, the life force – what's the worst, the memories, the emotions, everything that's screwed us up beyond repair he doesn't strip us of! No, he leaves us, half-destroyed as we are, to pick up the pieces that will never be whole again, only because by some horrid twist there are several of us, and this is his only way to find out the truth..."
A wave of anger infused with crushing agony and self-hate etched itself palpably in every element of his tormented being, dark finality belying his mirthless laughter "Even I could have told him it's not me... And despite all, I've made my peace with that little fact...but it didn't stop him, it wasn't enough to sate his bloodlust." Defeated, resignation-heavy eyes suddenly lit up with chaotic, pleading desperation, while his tall form abruptly crowded Shadowcat against the nearest wall, his gaze pinning her there helplessly, her mind unable to connect with reality long enough to initiate a phase "The Dark One doesn't care who else besides us suffers, all he wants is to make us pay and he's called on my family's worst nightmare for that!"
The petite woman could only blink perplexed "Misha, what-", though he left her no time to finish, his broken tone defying for a single moment the devastating exhaustion that threatened to conquer him whole, in a last-ditch herculean effort to continue, for he may be done for, yet he wasn't going to let his tormentor win - whatever it took out of him to ensure it "My ancestor's transgressions doomed us all, still when I manifested, even with the lateness, I thought I was the chosen sacrifice, as I resemble him greatly…but it's her, I can practically see her powers with mine, she'll awaken any day now…
"My brother cannot find out about this, I won't risk him - and my part of the curse is already activated, so I'm powerless to interfere." His failing voice caught in his throat for a split second, before he chocked out barely above a whisper, the terrifying awareness of these being the very last moments of lucidity for possibly the rest of his life making him grab onto his final chance with all he had "You're the sole it can't touch, you don't have our blood while still being a part of the family - I beg of you, Katya, don't let the Dark Force take Illyana!"
And his companion couldn't help the near-lethal in its intensity shudder at the gravity of what he had just asked of her, all the implications that had remained between the lines making her fight for breath, as she tried, mostly in vain, to keep a clear mind in the face of this startling new predicament, which clearly could, more probably than not, end in the worst ways possible for them all. But a mere heartbeat later, the true strength of her spirit, so at odds with her diminutive stature, flared indomitable in the planes of her gaze, as she took his prone form in a wordless embrace, her whole being alight with the power of her silent promise…
Once, in a time long past, when he had been still relatively young and, now he had to admit to himself, not entirely deprived of folly, it had seemed like a good idea – even if those of his kind often were loners, they did way better in a pack. And it simply wouldn't do to have one of the first of mutant-kind not leave their mark on the world, that his descendants wouldn't prove to be something else. However, several centuries later, and increasingly so nowadays, the very notion of having around the unruly at their best moments barbarians that made up his remaining feral offspring, appeared progressively less so. His patience, which had never been spectacular to begin with, was running dangerously low these latest times, and whichever unfortunate progeny of his was within his reach was going to bear the brunt of his wrath.
So it was a lucky occasion for those same unwitting targets of the hellish temper, which had conquered in lightning speed the whole being of the man currently scraping his claws on his throne-like seat's arm, that none of them were really handy enough for him to relieve it. The sound of adamantium grating on the black metal of the fixture in question, however, didn't help much the progressively souring mood of the shadowy male half-hidden behind it, but he held his tongue, not keen at all on getting on the other's receiving end. Still, his right hand, which had been touching the massive shoulder of the tall man now crouching forward in his seat, face creased in a murderous scowl thankfully directed at their unexpected visitor, twitched in clear annoyance at the unspoken order to restrain himself.
Both of the hosts couldn't help noting with mounting, poisonous ire the decidedly smug expression of the third present in the spacious chamber serving as a meeting parlour of sorts of its enthroned current inhabitant, the reasons behind it bringing the latter back to his original thoughts. It had been but a simple task really, in the end how hard was it to ensure the undisputed supremacy of his progeny after waiting for literally ages for someone of her genetic potential to arrive. And his most promising descendant, second only to the one currently at his side, yet carefully kept out of their guest's perception, had to go and botch it by letting another claim what his ancestor had schemed like there was no tomorrow to place in his way, ready for the taking.
While the particular contingency which had ruined his plans hadn't really been foreseeable in the circumstances, it had nonetheless forced the silver-haired mutant now trying frantically to reign in his instincts for the sake of his own sanity, into equally as desperate a move. And as things usually go, it had come back to haunt him, practically screaming in his face that, for all of his long life and experience, he should have known better. The freely offered help of the third of their assembly, at that very moment when all had seemed lost, had raised the former's suspicion bells on highest alert, as he was well aware that altruism wasn't a word existing in the vocabulary of the likes of their visitor.
As the icing on the cake, dear James had to get himself in another, much bigger mess with two mutants whose reputations struck a more than a faint chord of dread in the ancient feral. And all that - at just this same time when their so-called ally had come calling, very probably to collect his payment, not that it had ever been clear what that was. The pair on and behind the throne's fears only became cemented, when the self-satisfaction of the one facing them seemed to drown the entire chamber, his flaming narrowed eyes pinning his visible host in a clear display of power. The vibrant scarlet colours dominating his whole appearance were suddenly overtaking their surroundings akin to a living heat-wave, leaving the other two present to struggle for breath under the oppressive clutches of its crushing force.
"You did not truly think that I would not manage to find you, did you now, Romulus." the unhidden mockery in the otherworldly, hollow voice of the crimson-clad male weren't missed by the two mutants facing him, nor was the rather unsubtle menace woven beneath their otherwise harmless bite. The man addressed couldn't stop himself from replying with a show of his rather impressive fangs, before he remembered himself a second later, knowing all too well that an absence of restraint was a sign of weakness the other predator before him would exploit in a heartbeat.
The momentary slip, however, hadn't gone unnoticed by his interlocutor, who sighed in equally as pretended exasperation "And here I thought that longevity had also brought with it intelligence, but what do you know, even the best of us make mistakes. After all," here he didn't even bother hiding his true sentiments "the animal within is impossible to change no matter the wrapper it comes in." Only the desire of the mutant known as Romulus to not prove the other correct in his latest insult saved the latter from being reduced to a bleeding mess right there and then, without so much as a preamble by two extremely pissed off, testosterone-driven males. Instead, the one seated summoned his utmost efforts, succeeding much to his own surprise in putting on his best poker face, while he returned in a just as derisive a tone "One should then wonder what consorting with 'an animal' says about you, don't you think, Mephisto – in the end, as the saying goes, birds of a feather and all that."
The demon lord barely managed to conceal his own vexation at the comeback, even if his taken-aback state lasted only a breath. Not letting him get the upper hand again, the white-haired man went on, the abrupt seriousness in his voice startling the Red One to the former's immense satisfaction "State your business or leave, for unlike yourself, I have other things to see to and no time to waste in trading 'pleasantries'." The smirk pulling at the corners of unnaturally pale lips was positively predatory "Ah, of course that little issue with a certain Wolverine getting himself into a fix again – troublemaker that one, children always are, though unfortunately, I cannot lend a hand this time. It is a rather delicate situation, seeing as to how someone I would never even dream of crossing is involved, and I would like to preserve my own skin intact, thank you very much. But cutting to the chase, in short, as you have doubtlessly discerned, I have come in relation to our previous common 'enterprise'."
Romulus had to hold a deep breath before a hopefully calming exhale, privy he was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, as no one in their right mind would even so much as think, let alone actually break a deal with one of the Hell Masters "Name your price, Soulless, and if it's in my power, it is yours." even if right afterwards, he had to literally beat down the urge to sock the other in the now openly grinning face. "I do not ask for much, and trust me when I say it is definitely within your reach. You see, the problem with my progeny is that pesky desire to depose me – a trait, which sadly enough, its current newest member may prove to share with his predecessor. What I need is the way to curb this rather troublesome character flaw."
The feral mutant snorted at that "Do I look like demon-babysitter of the year?" but he did understand where the dark-dweller came from, as this same situation hadn't been unheard of among his own offspring either. Mephisto, though, shook his head "Inferno is still young and impressionable – while soon to be full-grown in body, his mind and self will remain quite malleable for a while." The enthroned man's dark eyes became suspicion-filled slits at the implications behind the last phrase of the ruler of Alterna "I am hardly amongst the most powerful psychics on this planet.", only to receive a condescending smile "I am not looking for forcible intervention here – only for a suitable 'distraction'."
Romulus' snowy eyebrows nearly flew into his hairline at that, gaze bulging slightly, as incredulity laced his tone "You expect me to provide it?" The Red One waived a nonchalant hand in his direction "After a fashion.", then sharply pinning his blazing orbs on the shadows behind the throne, as another smirk started playing on his lips "I hear you have quite the instrument in your arsenal, one that has proven more than excellent for this type of task." Halting the seething anger coursing through the owner of the now wildly shaking invisible hand on his shoulder with a squeeze of said appendage, the white-haired male rose to his full height in one fell swoop, not missing to glare at the other, voice deceptively calm "If you are this much in need of an 'incentive' of that sort, you could very well create one yourself, could you not? Or simply proceed with your usual game – I hear you are quite the master of manipulation."
Mephisto's reply to that blatant sarcasm was a sceptically raised brow "You do not catch on very quickly, do you now." but in fact, his addressee had his guesses on the matter and the latter response had only confirmed them. He had to give it to the demon lord, using someone who was real – a person in their own right, with a character developed naturally and, most of all, not affiliated with or influenced by the ruler of Alterna in any way, so as to avoid interference inklings. One of the best ways of control indeed…and his guest had truly picked the right man for the job. After all, he had conditioned his line's current masterpiece himself, and he'd more than enjoy seeing him in action, even if that would otherwise put him out of commission for a while.
"What if your spawn doesn't take the bait?" His interlocutor snorted "You are telling me that the one who has made rock-steady men beg with naught but a few well-placed looks, the one you are even now desperately trying to conceal from my attention, has actually ever failed?!" And what was always obviously meant as a provocation worked, a light grazing of the shadowed figure's hand on the broad arm of his progenitor, and a subtle nod of the latter had the male previously silently observing the exchange now step into view. Mephisto had to admit that talks of his uncommon beauty were not exaggerated, the exotic blend of his mixed heritage and his rugged, intensely masculine air giving him a decidedly dangerous allure. He was perfect…from the feral glint in his dark-blue eyes, through the evocative tribal markings running over one side of his face and bare torso, to the sensuous curve of his lips, there could be no other who could possibly entice as the demon wished.
The youthful appearance didn't fool him, nor did his nonchalance as he pushed the wild midnight tresses tumbling free down his muscular back away from his gaze, this seemingly casual to a non-experienced observer gesture, designed to throw off, betraying his real age. He was a predator of the truest kind, and the visitor couldn't help an appreciative once-over, before the deep, slightly accented tone of the new arrival brought him back to the matter at hand "My main specialty lies elsewhere, but certainly you wouldn't have need for these services, as your goal doesn't involve a permanent solution. Even so, I cannot guarantee that my second skillset would work as effectively on someone who is far from human."
That ostensibly got the Red One thinking, if for only a passing moment, before he retorted, pensive notes stealing in his countenance as if he hadn't completely shaken off his inner musings "You would be amazed at how wrong that is…" The silent looks prompting for elaboration from his companions, however, only served to make him close up completely on the matter, continuing with a brusque "But that is not important – rest assured, he will not be impervious to this kind of persuasion." Eternally scorching eyes swiftly shot back at the duo of feral mutants, assaulting their unprepared beings with the force of a falling meteorite, the casualness of the demon lord's air belying the near-imperceptible impossibility to object in his next address "So, what do you say, gentlemen?"
An exchange of wordless looks between the other two later, which nonetheless spoke a universe to the Hell Master in their presence, and the latter couldn't stop the show of pure arrogance infusing his parting words "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Romulus." He gave a slight nod to the man in question, then acknowledging the younger of the pair "Akihiro-san." not even bothering to hide the vibes of derision in that last, well-aware how it never failed to rile the black-haired male, before beating a hasty exit. Oh they had their own agenda alright, the non-verbal exchanges, while not of much help for the average person, revealed quite the picture to Mephisto, but their plans were unlikely to interfere with his. And if they did, he had very effective ways of reminding wayward 'associates' exactly why he was also known as the Lord of Agony.
Meanwhile, visibly relieved to be finally rid of their not particularly wanted companion, Romulus nearly collapsed back in his previously vacated seat, the sheer mental exertion which had been necessary to deal with his one-time ally having at last taken its toll. Akihiro, or Daken as he went by sometimes, joined his side only to fluidly slide down by his legs, laying his head across his lap in an expression of his own sudden, overwhelming exhaustion, the ancient feral absently stroking his protégé's onyx-coloured locks. An outsider may have thought this a display of affection, but in reality it was simply Romulus indulging the younger man in one of the rare moments when the confident façade slipped, and he couldn't resist the beckoning of past vulnerability.
A bout of irritation crossed the elder one's brow at that, as, even after all of the conditioning he had put this descendant of his through, there still remained a, however miniscule, part of who the latter would have been, had he and his progenitor never crossed paths. So, unfortunately, instances like the present were a necessary evil in dealing with this rather unpleasant circumstance – and their most recent encounter didn't help much either. The silver-haired man let out a laboured sigh, unable to stop a musing that he wouldn't be surprised, if it turned out that demons naturally absorbed all energy in their presence, thus leaving their prey defenceless in the face of the inevitable.
A smile curved his lips at sensing a similar thought flash through his counterpart's mind, only to be replaced by a swiftly rising spell of fury, as the other spoke in the same hollowed tone that he used only on the worst of occasions, and which made even his mentor tremble "You should have bypassed his failure and let him perish, or better yet, allowed me to finish the job – you owe me that, you swore to me his blood will be mine to spill." The subtle threat proffered in that final phrase wasn't lost to the elder of the pair, and even if he'd known it would get down to that old argument and the very questions he had to use his best manipulation skills to avoid, he was still jolted in shock by the quiet, almost unsecure next whisper "Whatever the DNA you can get your hands on, why do you even need any others when you already have me?"
But this unprecedented breath of weakness was gone just as suddenly and quickly as it had manifested itself, replaced by the familiar dark fires of an old vengeance and newly reawakened determination "You should have let them all die, they have done naught but disappoint you - I am the sole who never has, so next time do listen to me! If you actually had given heed to my warnings, we wouldn't be in this situation, a deal with the Other Side hanging over our heads - you know these never end well for those of the parties who don't come from one of the Dark Planes." And tirade or not, Romulus had to admit, if only to himself, that his offspring was sadly enough perilously correct, though he didn't seem to see the entire picture, as the former hastened to explain "Whatever your personal feelings on the matter, 'Hiro, you have surely noticed how Mephisto may have talked of simple rebelliousness from his new heir, yet he couldn't truly hide his real problem with this Inferno – a potentially fatal end.
"And regardless, he spoke solely of control…" An intrigued face lifted from his lap to meet halfway with his own "He is a manipulative bastard, that I could smell from miles away, what does it have to do with any-" the abrupt pause cutting him off mid-word just as realisation dawned "He doesn't want to destroy his progeny nor harm him, not because he lacks the reasons or the desire, but merely due to inability." A deathly grin in perfect sync with their feral nature split Daken's features at that, while he couldn't help drawing the sole possible conclusion under his ancestor's pride-filled gaze "The childe is a lot more powerful that the sire, and in turn, he's afraid of his own spawn…" And through this latest accord with the Red One they could twist this new demon, seduce him and his power to their side, and from then on the possibilities were truly endless – a reflection mirrored in his own progenitor's triumphant air.
What the latter wasn't even suspecting, however, was that his plans may have been ruined before they had actually begun, for neither feral mutant had foreseen the one factor that normally wouldn't have any bearing in such circumstances. In fact, in that very moment, an image the master of Alterna had thrown at the black-haired male's psyche during their discussion earlier on, without doubt in an effort to push him to agree to what he had demanded of the former, now assaulted his whole self full force. Because Romulus didn't know that Mephisto had given him one tantalising glimpse of the future…and for the first time in his considerably long life, Daken had found himself utterly unable, nor wanting to, ever escape a pair of bewitchingly dark, emerald eyes...
It had all happened in mere moments which, even later, would remain nothing but a single frenetic blur that Proteus never bothered clearing up, since details were more than unimportant. In fact, when he and his unexpected helper finally touched the Institute's interior, specifically its student canteen, the long-distance teleport having left the teen slightly dizzy, all the boy could do was exhale in relief that his gamble, however deadly, had paid off. The young psychic quickly regained his clear mind, the latter working feverishly, not bothering to check to know his improvised transporter was gone the second after depositing him, their appearance thankfully unimpeded by what had felt like a barrier over the Mansion.
Smothering all invading questions about the reasons for his presence where he had picked him up under the powerful reassurance that, by the time his companion returned at their starting point, Jean would have already left, the Scottish teen rushed through the corridors. His telepathy fanned out throughout the entire building, quickly telling him the younger kids were safe and that the adults and his classmates, as well as the decidedly non-human invaders were on the ground levels, which was also where all the battle noise came from. A speedily formed plan getting just as fast fleshed out in his head, Kevin literally flew into the spacious back room overlooking the grounds and the coastline behind the Institute, and having pinpointed the attackers' psyches beforehand, he went straight in for the kill.
Not caring whether the four grown-ups had noticed him, or had had any time to be shocked at his presence, nor concerned with getting a good look at those monsters, his sole goal was to get the latter away from his mother (not her body – he wouldn't think of death!). In a burst of twisted sensory perceptions, his most lethal ability exploded around him, flaring out like a star's corona, yet hitting only those it had been meant for, every single one of them – powerless to withstand the force of his reality manipulation turned on the max. Their screams of agony and fast-approaching insanity were music to his ears, his psychic energy armour already in place as he hurried to his fallen parent, pushing in deep breaths in an effort to avoid panic on seeing how much blood she'd lost.
Cradling her to him in frantic urgency, his mind darted within hers, desperately scouting its every corner and depth, even those normally left unvisited, in search for some, any sign that her life-force hadn't left her completely...that he wasn't too late. And after several seconds of seemingly endless sweltering anxiety, he finally found himself sending the most heartfelt thanks he'd ever said to every power in Existence for these bastards' hastiness in trying to kill their victim, but not actually stopping to ensure she were indeed dead. Still, his almost-cry of wild jubilation died just as violent a death, before it had even left his mind's throes, when on a closer verification, his foster sister's gift revealed he might have rejoiced way too early.
In fact, all lifelines binding his mother's soul and essence to her physical self, but for a precious three, had torn away already and the remaining ones were also splintering at a heart-stopping speed. For a single second, his entire being stiffened under a bone-crushing wave of terror, before steadfast reason managed to once more wrestle back the reins over his sanity, long enough for a feasible solution to be worked out. A string of disquiet-saturated moments was all it took for the youth to piece together the elements that his never-stopping psyche had unearthed with the speed of light. And with his powers still relentlessly punishing their would-be attackers in those deliciously imaginative ways, which only his enraged self could come up with when this ticked off, the red-haired teen snapped back into movement, his every motion alight with barely suppressed urgency.
His frenetic thoughts shot straight out to the Mansion's lower levels, right down to the med bay, where should have lain the sole that could have possibly helped him in his endeavour at such short notice. Having witnessed first-hand what Magneto had been able to accomplish for Jean, just days prior, made 'borrowing' the comatose mutant's powers through his own psychic possession, despite its farfetched notes in terms of a solution, well-worth the shot. The results of his telepathic probe, however, only made the boy's already searing anguish swell to astronomical proportions. As, apparently, not only were the two patients he knew of no longer in the infirmary, but the surprisingly present Northstar and Amanda's mental signatures practically screamed their unconscious, if otherwise unharmed, state.
Torn between attempting to reach them, lockdown or not, a slithering instinct pointing towards their condition being unrelated to the attack and, now that he was robbed of the last straw he could grasp, pouring his all into finding another way, Proteus literally had to struggle for breath. He had managed to pull his mother away from the improvised battlefield that had become the entire back half of the ground level as delicately as possible, so as not to aggravate her injuries, though if he didn't think of something fast, it would have all been for naught. Having withdrawn his assault on the alien aggressors, he left them for the adult mutants and his peers to finish, bypassing completely the latter's still shocked selves.
And as lost as he was in his increasingly harder to focus feverish musings, he failed to register the faint at first, yet glaringly growing in strength, psychic presence in his immediate vicinity. His last-moment realisation of the possible threat, and the blurred sensations of his peripheral perceptions, nearly made Kevin rain suffering on one unsuspecting Casey Bingham who, to his credit, only glanced at the older boy curiously, before answering the obvious. "I snuck by the others when they put on the lockdown, and with my powers, I got here instead of ending back where I started." a grin he couldn't help split the pre-teen's face at having finally succeeded in manipulating his abilities beyond what was expected for his age.
For a heartbeat, Proteus simply stared at the younger psionic mutant, his wildly spinning mind not comprehending at first. But as lucidity snapped back in place, he barely refrained from hugging the kid, instead settling for whispering in an attempt not to draw unwanted attention at them "Rebound, you've got no idea how much I love your stubbornness, when it comes to your powers, right now!" Casey's smile at his elder acknowledging him by his chosen codename, as opposed to his given one in an unspoken expression of respect, would have blinded the sun. In contrast with his usual talkative manner, he then only extended a hand to the Scottish teen, nothing but the utmost seriousness infusing his whole stance, darkened eyes fixing resolutely on Proteus.
'I trust you.' was the sole that he spoke, the weight of his decision suddenly threatening to choke them both, as each recalled that Rebound had never attempted to use his abilities with anyone else participating, outside of a simulation. Even then, there was always another more experienced telepath supporting and guiding him, though in the present circumstances they didn't have much other choice, despite needing to go back in time for a stretch of only a little over ten minutes. And Kevin couldn't help shivering inwardly at the role he was expected to fill, conscious that he had never been one of these shouldering the younger boy in his training, so he had to practically play it by ear.
But the mental flash of his final parting with Jean, and the unshakeable faith she too had in him, now mirrored in the eyes of the young Canadian, smothered for good his suffocating fears of failure. Needless to say, he counted on also being able to discover just where and how a heavily sedated patient and a fully comatose one had managed to get themselves to. So, ensuring that his quickly fading mother was well out of additional harm's way, his steady hand clasped the offered one, their eyes closing as both surrendered to the swirling pull of time-travel, each sending a silent prayer that their venture wouldn't be in vain.
The wildly spinning world mercilessly overtaking every sense they possessed upon popping out of the time-stream, miraculously right where they had planned, didn't help their distressed minds at all. Kevin practically fell against the nearby wall, pulling Casey along with him and barely succeeding in propping the young boy's prone form on the vertical surface, then quickly checking his vitals and letting out a sigh of relief when finding them otherwise in norm. Disorientation, however, luckily receded fast enough, as his already alert psyche's widespread receptive abilities had caught the spiking vibes of anguish from his mother, then fortunately apparently still somewhere outside the Mansion.
With a last check of Rebound's state, the teen raced towards the ground floor's back doors, his mental perception picking up on the parallel approach of both Moira and Xavier and their unexpected attackers. The other residents were also on their way, the lockdown protocols already in nearly full effect, yet Proteus tuned all else out, his sole focus on the matronly redhead who had practically swung open the back doors, so that she and her companion could enter in just as fast. Bypassing their unrestrained confusion and spiking worry upon noticing his mere presence, let alone its possible implications, and knowing he had little time, the young Scotsman literally flew into action. In one fell swoop, in sync with his projectile-like body's movements, he tore off the leather cord around his neck with strength he hadn't even imagined he possessed, only to clutch wildly at the light-blue, akin to crystal, sort of bracelet which hung on it.
Rushing right at his mother, as gently as possible in the urgency infusing his every action, he closed her paralysed fingers around the now glowing object, only to whisper a desperate plea to her own frantic mind 'Hold on, mum, and whatever happens, don't let go and don't stop thinking about what I'm going to show you!' And before either of the other two present could react in any way, whatever Kevin had in mind seemingly worked, as the light pervading the bracelet the redhead now held in a death-grip exploded around them all in a blinding shroud. Only to vanish a moment later, together with Moira herself, leaving the Professor gaping at the occurrence and a barely coherent Proteus solely able to draw a breath, before leaping into action once more.
Not caring about what would transpire soon, as he knew that the others would make short work of their would-be invaders with his future self's help, the teen sprinted back to Casey's hideout. Thankfully finding the boy conscious, the youth quickly discerned that his companion wouldn't, however, be able to transport them both back, his energy levels being at a dangerous low. And even if he didn't like the risks involved in it, the young man took the only other route left, his possession swiftly blending his own being within the preteen, then practically jumpstarting the latter's time-travel powers. His gamble ostensibly paid off though, since a rather rattling, but luckily fast, journey through the time-stream later, he dropped straight onto one of the infirmary beds, mentally congratulating himself on a double job well done.
His own equally as prone self promptly left the younger boy, despite his best efforts to continue with the remainder of his earlier plan, falling like a bomb on another bed just to the side, powerless to fight the onslaught of exhaustion which plunged him a dreamless sleep. And what seemed like light years away, a still shell-shocked, but otherwise unhurt, geneticist slowly dared open her gaze, only to be assaulted by a blur of gold which appeared to swallow her from all sides. Shakily taking a, till then harshly withheld, breath she looked around, finally meeting a pair of confused, yet not unkind, dark-green eyes studying her curiously, while the rather amused voice of their owner remarked "Well, this is certainly unexpected."…