I.
"Nicole want to play more with Leech and Artie?" The green-skinned youngster rocked on his heels, a huge grin in anticipation of whatever new game he had created. Artie peeked over his shoulder, creating a three-dimensional image of a smiley face along with his own broad smile.
Before answering, she shot her sister a glance, wondering if they should even be outside of the school, instead safely nestled behind the walls and security system. Only moments ago, they were all playing outside without incident when suddenly, Claudette panicked, telepathically alerting to some looming peril, but wouldn't explain any other details. Startled, Nicole feigned dire thirst, then escorted her sister inside, past the kitchen, past Jono, Vanessa, and Robert talking amongst each other, up to their room.
Once there, Claudette said nothing else, but the feeling of trepidation lingered with both sisters. She hoped that it was nothing more than a false alarm, but something that strong and serious couldn't be overlooked.
Nicole continued to wait for her sister to elaborate on what she meant. If nothing more was revealed, she couldn't continue to seclude them without further explanation, and there was no way she wanted to panic the others without having more to tell them.
Putting on a smile, she replied to Leech, "Sounds like a good idea. We just needed to take a little break. We'll meet you downstairs, okay?"
After a whoop from Leech, the duo dashed back down the hallway, their heavy footsteps diminishing. Down a little farther, she heard Franklin Richards join them, and the three of them took off, making quite a commotion as they went down the stairs.
She hated lying to him, but she wasn't quite sure of Claudette's strange behavior herself. And there was no need in getting everyone worried, especially her playmates, so, she didn't see any reason to potentially ruin the fun that they were having.
Nicole enjoyed Leech's company, as he could talk about any and everything. Artie usually added a quick three-dimensional holographic projection as an addition to the conversation, to punctuate an idea, or to simply add his own small piece. Franklin was fun too, and extremely intelligent, which reminded her of Monet, but without the attitude.
When she turned her attention back to her twin, Claudette had a piece of paper and a pen, now drawing something with an almost frightening urgency. She hesitantly approached her sister, who was incredibly focused, and peered over her shoulder. Instead of the normal brightly colored shapes and designs she usually created, a dark figure with bony claws for hands seemed to reach off the page for her. In the background were more unfamiliar, yet frightening, figures, cloaked in dark pen strokes.
"Claudette, what is that? Why are you drawing something like that?" Nicole asked.
In a rare moment of clarity, Claudette turned toward her sister and blinked. "Emplate. He's coming."
Nicole froze, surprised at her sister's lucidity and the revelation that accompanied it. Just hearing the name Emplate sent a chill down her spine. There was no doubt of her sister's prediction, though she was tempted to ask again just to make sure. Instead, she gripped her sister's hand tightly, and without waiting for Claudette to explain further, she led her out of the room, leaving the horrible drawing behind.
But once in the hallway, Claudette pulled against Nicole, stopping them abruptly, and refused to progress any further.
Turning toward her sister, Nicole asked, "What's wrong? We have to tell someone. If Emplate gets here—"
"Much too late, little sister," a gravelly voice croaked from somewhere down the hallway.
She sucked in a breath and held it, hoping that the voice heard was nothing more than a horrible figment of her imagination. But when she turned in that direction, her heart skipped a beat, and she slowly retreated as claws emerged from a mysterious darkness enveloping the hallway.
"Emplate," Nicole whispered, her voice feeble and shaky. As he advanced, his full frame visible, she understood why Claudette's only thought was monster.
Piercing red eyes peered at the twins from a face of wrinkled, gray skin. His breathing was audible through the respirator attached to the lower half of his face, and his dark, spiked hair swayed gently in a hot breeze coming from nowhere in particular. And his rough, raspy voice had a dangerous edge to it, nothing like the firm, friendly voice of their brother.
"Dear, sisters," Emplate said, "It's time for you to come home."
Nicole mustered false courage. "We're not going anywhere with you!"
He laughed, a low, throaty sound that startled both girls. "You really don't have a choice. We can do this the easy way...or the hard way."
Without hesitation, Nicole gripped her sister's hand even tighter and took off in a full sprint in the direction opposite of Emplate, tapping into her developing super-strength and speed. She dispersed her energy between the two acts: her strength kept Claudette from being dead weight as she practically dragged behind, and her speed would hopefully put distance between them and Emplate—enough time to alert the others that something was wrong and launch an offensive against him.
Claudette finally managed to focus and carried her own weight, sprinting as fast as she could behind her sister. But she still couldn't concentrate enough to use her powers effectively, let alone merge with her sister.
The twins dashed through the hallway, focused on escaping. Their footsteps thudded through the hallway, and they huffed heavily as they rounded a sharp corner, nearly running into Artie and Leech. Franklin barely dodged the collision, chuckling at the accident.
"Nicole and Claudette take too long! And clumsy!" Leech shot.
She glanced around, panicked, sure that Emplate was right on their heels. But the hallway behind her was empty. Still, she could feel his darkness lurking somewhere close. "We have to get out of here! My brother—Emplate is—"
"Come now, don't ruin the surprise, little sister," the gravelly voice again seemed to originate from all around them, as a clawed hand reached from the shadows.
"Run!" Nicole commanded.
Luckily, the children knew danger when it came along and obeyed her urgent order without hesitation. Leading the way, Artie and Leech reached the top of the stairs with Nicole, Claudette, and Franklin right on their heels. They stopped briefly, spying Jono and Vanessa talking to the butler with a sense of urgency.
"Jono! Vanessa!" Nicole called, drawing their attention before clambering down the stairs, nearly falling over each other. But about hallway down, much to their horror, Emplate melted into existence, blocking their path.
"Oh my god," Vanessa gasped as a monster faded into existence. Surprised, she caught her balance as a wave of dizziness hit her from trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Never had she seen something so menacing and horrific. And it was threatening the children. "Get away from them!"
"Creepy bad guy no hurt friends!" Leech exclaimed as he threw himself at Emplate. He knew that his unique powers granted him the ability to negate mutant abilities, similar to Ethan, but in order for it to work, he had to be within close proximity of his target. If he could negate this intruder's powers, even for a moment, he was sure that Jono could successfully land an attack.
"Pesky children."
A well-timed backhand sent Leech sailing over the rail, his power never quite reaching Emplate. And as he tumbled head over heels, he regretted his rather rash move.
"I've got him," Robert said as he launched forward unexpectedly, and with speed much faster than a normal person, he was underneath the tumbling boy, then caught him as they both fell to the ground.
"Shield the kids," Jono commanded.
Summoning her Darkforce powers, Vanessa held her hands in front of her as she ignited her unexplainable connection to a form of energy fueled by darkness. At her mental command, an ebon wall erupted from the ground between Emplate and the other kids. A solid and thick construct, it climbed from the stairs to the ceiling in mere seconds, creating a sturdy barrier to hopefully delay Emplate and protect the kids.
While Emplate was distracted by the wall, Jono focused his biokinetic energy into his hands then let it shoot as a concentrated blast at their intruder, but cursed as Emplate held out a single hand, creating some kind of invisible shield that totally deflected and absorbed the attack.
"My, my, how you've grown, Jono. You look even more delicious than the last time I saw you. And your beautiful companion looks tasty too."
Before he could make his next move, a blur of red intercepted him, and a hot flash of pain burst from his shoulder. He glanced down at the jagged rip in his outer garment, feeling his torn flesh slowly repairing itself. Genuinely surprised, his gaze fell to his attacker, who now crouched offensively on all fours, her hair standing on end and her normally friendly blue, pupil-less eyes filled with hatred and fury.
"Yvette, how I've missed you. A commendable attack, but you still haven't quite broken out of your shell, have you?"
"Down we go!" Nicole stated as she leaped over the balcony with her twin sister in tow. Artie and Franklin followed, slowed by a telekinetic nudge from Franklin.
Emplate observed the twins, the unfamiliar butler holding Leech, Jono, Vanessa, Franklin, and Yvette all unite as an ad hoc team, an eclectic blend of ages and talents, ready for a combined attack no matter his next move. Their auras glowed with varying luminescent lights, stirring the hunger within. But to feed wasn't his intention.
He said, "I suggest you pests stand down, let me collect what is mine. I'll forgive your impedance and leave without further conflict."
"I don't know 'ow the 'ell you got in 'ere," Jono said as his biokinetic energy rippled the surface of his skin and clothes, "but you're not leaving. We're finishing this once an' fer all."
Amused, Emplate's eyes narrowed. "That's not the way I planned it." Before anyone else could protest, he summoned the power churning deep within his body. The combination of fire, wind, water, earth, and lightning created a foreign energy projection, a glow of undulating black fire under his command. In the next second, a wave of concentrated energy shot forward, carrying with it a wind that threw the entire room into disarray and flattened the entire group. As quickly as the energy appeared, it vanished, dissipated into the atmosphere, changing form into something as harmless as the air.
It wasn't his intent to destroy the school, though he could have very easily. He could have done much worse to the group of Xavier residents, but he did not. His goal was simple—he came for his family. And just as he planned it, he would leave with his family.
On cue, Bulwark and Wrap teleported into the school, only a few feet from Emplate.
"Bring my sisters along," he said, not taking his eyes off the fallen. He thought about it for another moment then added, "And Yvette. When you're done, I want the both of you to find Richard Cale. Do with him what you will, but ensure he does not interfere."
"What about the other X-brats?" Bulwark asked.
"They are of no consequence. There is nothing any of them can do. The time is near...do as I command. And let no one stop you. My plan will now come to fruition..."
II.
"Okay, so what's the plan?" Graylon Walsh asked from his place behind the driver's seat. Pushing his blond bangs from his forehead, he leaned forward impatiently looking specifically at Everett for an answer.
Jubilee rolled her eyes, her dissatisfaction with their guest shining brightly. "Why doncha jus' like chill out? We can't jus' waltz in tha spot like we own tha place. 'Sides, they're totally not gonna give us any kinda info. Especially ta you…you look mad suspect, you know?"
Lacking the desire to debate or even answer the question, Everett slowed the car then parked. Stepping out of the car, he noticed a cooler breeze swaying branches and rustling leaves as dark clouds approached from the distance. The ominous change in weather didn't sit well with him, and he suddenly wanted to find Cartier and Monet. Fast.
He turned his attention toward Esperance Manor, the looming, five-story hotel on the western outskirts of Snow Valley. An elegant, Victorian design, the building seemed out of place when compared with the more modern styles of the surrounding structures. However, everyone appreciated the stark difference in architecture and marveled at the intricate designs carved into the stone walls. Even the landscaping, wrought with massive oak trees, other deciduous plant life, and colorful blossoms was a standout feature amongst the adjacent, modest land.
Esperance Manor was well-known for being a hidden jewel of a vacation spot for affluent patrons who relished the seclusion, which was why it was no surprise that Rich Cale had a hotel room there instead of downtown. Normally, he would have loved to simply admire the hotel, but there was no time to enjoy his first trip there. Instead, with his mind set on finding the mysterious Englishman, he turned to the others, his mind still churning through various options.
Angelo was around Everett in enough tense situations to know when he was pondering over a plan. When he saw a slight change in his teammate's expression, he asked, "So, how you wanna do this, hombre?"
Everett explained, "Jubes and I will get the info from the front desk. Wait for us at the elevator. You'll know what to do when you see us."
Graylon threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "What? That's it?! Wait by the elevator, and we'll figure out what to do?!"
"Yeah, why doncha chill out? That's totally what he jus' said," Jubilee snapped. "Yer gettin' all worked up over nothin'...when I was like in tha X-Men, we did this sorta thing all tha time. Besides, aren't ya jus' along fer tha ride anyways, blondie?" she asked, still slightly annoyed with Graylon's presence.
"I should have known—"
"Hey," Clarice interrupted, "I thought Everett mentioned no attitude. And right now, I hear lots of it in your voice." She closed the gap between them aggressively, and her eyes narrowed in an angry glare, silently challenging Graylon.
He stood his ground, purely for the sake of displaying macho bravado, but really, he had no intention of fighting her. In all honesty, she would probably kick his ass. He was a good fighter, but there was something about the way she carried herself that completely set her apart from just being a fighter—it was something more instinctual. And deadly.
Everett shook his head and chuckled. "Play nice in the sandbox, share your toys, and don't throw sand in each other's eyes. We'll be right back." With a nod to Jubilee, he headed toward the reception area, following the indicated direction of gold-plated placards, while she joined him, trailing closely behind.
"Whatcha think about this Rich kid?" she asked.
Everett thought for a moment. "Not sure. But I have a feeling he has a piece of the puzzle that we've been missing all along with Emplate."
When they rounded the bronze fountain underneath a vaulted skylight, Everett asked, "You ready for this?"
"You like already know."
III.
"Hey, wake up!"
Rico Vidal swore that he was dreaming, as the urgent command resounded lazily through the darkness. It wasn't always an absolute void, but he couldn't quite remember the colors, patterns, or scenes that lingered on the edge of perception. It was comfortable, but he knew it wasn't real—there was something else going on around him. And it needed his full attention.
He forced open his eyes, only a crack at first, quickly adjusting to the dim light before opening them fully. A moan croaked out as he shifted his body and felt nothing but a deep aching from everywhere. Still unable to fully see, he gingerly sat up, only remotely aware of the chains and shackles weighing down his wrists and ankles.
"Why do I feel like I was trampled by a hundred elephants?" he said, the tendrils of daze still lingering.
"Don't worry," the same voice from earlier said, "You'll be okay. It'll go away soon. The first time is always the worst. I guess you're a mutant too?"
The question pulled Rico into full consciousness, the disorientation completely gone, and he glanced in the direction of the voice to find another male, presumably close to his age, chained to the wall only a few feet away. Though the room was dim, he could make out the blonde's friendly face, muscled physique, and casual clothes.
"I didn't realize it was tattooed across my forehead," he replied. Just then, he spied Vincent, unconscious, on the other side of the room. Two other males were on either side of him, one sprawled out, unmoving, while the other sat up, quite alert. "Jason Tate, Craig Taylor, and Tyson Sullivan. The three of you disappeared about twenty-four hours ago. Kidnapped. And now, we are too."
"So word has gotten out," Jason mentioned, from his place next to Vincent. He flexed his limbs and shook off his disorientation, as his dark eyes studied Rico and Ty. He ran his fingers through his messy, dark auburn hair, but the yank of the chains attached to his wrist sharply reminded him of his limited motion.
Rico explained, "The sleepy redhead there and I are from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. We came across the news story, and we planned on investigating. One of our teammates suspected that someone was gathering mutants with elemental powers. Water, earth, fire, wind, and lightning. I've got the wind, and Vinnie can control fire. Question is, who's our kidnapper?"
There was an ominous silence as the other two dropped their eyes.
"A monster," Ty flatly replied.
The silence afterward eradicated the idea that he was joking, and a chill ran down Rico's back.
Jason quickly added, "From what I can tell, he's some kind of vampire thing with these weird mouths on his hands."
Rico narrowed his eyes, already formulating a hypothesis as he remembered seeing a mutant with that same descriptive characteristic. "Mouths on his hands? Spiky hair? Respirator?"
Energetically, Ty nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"His name is Emplate" he responded. "And we're in serious trouble. If Kiana's right, he may be trying to do something like dark magic with our powers."
"Wait," Jason interrupted, his thin lips curved into a hard frown. "You mean to tell me that monster is somehow using our powers to create magic? It's enough to digest that I have these abnormal powers, but then to throw some magic mumbo-jumbo on top of that—don't you think it's a bit much? It doesn't even make sense."
Rico had to admit that he had a valid point. The part about the magic seemed like a stretch now that he thought back to it. But with Kiana's knowledge about the arcane and Emplate's powerful nature, maybe it wasn't too far-fetched that someone could combine mutant powers and magic. Regardless, the fact of the matter was that Emplate believed he could, which put them in harm's way.
"I know how it sounds, but right now, that's all we have to go on."
As Vincent stirred to life, Rico breathed an internal sigh of relief, thankful that someone else who shared his perspective would be able to support him and maybe help convince the others. He watched as his teammate gingerly sat up, massaging his right forearm.
"What the hell happened?" he asked.
"Apparently, we've been captured and fed on by a mutant vampire. It was scheduled right after the mummy's cameo appearance."
Normally, Vincent would have sourly retorted back, but his head throbbed too much to even formulate words. Instead, he just groaned in protest and clinched his eyes closed, hoping the pain and nausea would pass.
On the other side of him, Craig moved slightly, a painful groan escaping his throat as he sat up. He looked around, disoriented, then he settled on Vincent and Rico with a scowl. "You two? What the hell are you two doing here?"
"Umm…kidnapped, just like you," Rico threw back at him. "What kind of question is that? Like we'd be here just to hang out with you."
"You X-Kids probably already knew what was happening. You could have at least given us a heads up."
"The last time I checked, Riptide, you and your goon comrades almost killed us. I didn't think we were really on talking terms," Rico answered, not really wanting to argue, but finding himself infuriated with Craig's attitude.
Jason halted the quip. "It seems like you guys have history, but if we're going to get out of here, you'll have to put it aside, at least for now. All five of us are trapped, and we're going to have to work together to get out of here."
"Whatever. They—" Craig began, but Vincent cut him off.
"Seriously, cut the shit and get over your Arminthorpe brainwashing. There's no time for that bullshit right now, in case you didn't hear what that kid said," Vincent spat.
"It's Jason," he corrected, uncaring of potentially incurring Vincent's wrath.
But he said nothing in reply to Jason or Craig, simply settling into an angry glower.
"Don't worry about it," Rico said in response to Jason's concerned gaze. "He does that all the time. Now that we're done with the drama, let's figure out what we can do next. I set off a tracking device before we were captured, which should have sent an alert back to the school. I don't know how far away we are, but I'm sure that they're coming."
"They? As in the X-Men?"
It was a fair question, considering their connection to the parent team. But he was sure that something like this was way under their radar. Surely, Magneto was launching some kind of plan to blow up the world or something, so they were probably embroiled with that. For all intents and purposes, they were on their own.
"Well, kind of. Maybe. I don't know," he answered, disappointed that he couldn't definitively say anything about the X-Men's aid. "We've got a school of mutants that are powerful in their own right. We're dubbed Generation X, and we've got plenty of firepower to stop Emplate."
"Well, let's hope so," Ty said. "What are we going to do in the meantime? These chains are pretty sturdy, and we're all pretty weak from the monster feeding off us. There's no telling when that monster will be back...and next time it feeds on us, it may not stop."
In the next second the door to the basement swung open, and Rico thought that Ty's warning had actually come true—Emplate had come to finish sucking the life from them, ending their lives without a hint of regret. But a hulking figure came into view, and as his eyes adjusted, he spied Yvette slung over his shoulder.
"Oh no," Rico lamented, while catching a glance from Vincent. If this guy had Yvette, it probably meant the school itself was attacked. The safety of the rest of his friends became his primary concern, and when he glanced toward Vincent, his expression said that he was thinking the same thing.
As Bulwark crossed to the opposite side of the room to retrieve more restraints, he failed to notice Yvette stir slightly. The young girl opened her eyes briefly, glanced around nervously at first, but when she locked eyes with Rico, her composure returned.
She watched Rico point to his shackles, then glanced around at the others, who were imprisoned in the same way. She knew that something had to be done, but taking out Bulwark would be a challenge. Knowingly, Yvette winked at Rico, then feigned unconsciousness once again.
Understanding that she needed a distraction, Rico devised a quick plan in hopes of giving her the opening needed to launch her plan. To Bulwark, he shouted, "Where are the rest of our friends? What have you done with them?"
Bulwark snapped around, annoyed. "It's none of your concern, puny. She's lucky the boss likes her. I can't say the same for the rest of you X-Fools."
Rico couldn't immediately access where the massive mutant was from. There was a hint of a British accent, kind of like Jono's, but the husky weight of the low tones overshadowed it. His skin was dusky, and he had a light brown mop of hair to compliment dark eyes. But the most prominent characteristic was the almost comical muscles rippling over
"You're the fool—you're the one working for a monster. It's just a matter of time before he turns on you and drains you too."
The massive mutant paused from his task, long enough to seemingly ponder the motion. He then replied definitively, "He wouldn't do that."
"You're a fool if you think that," Jason pointedly responded. "He's focused on his own agenda. You're just a flunky, nothing more," he continued, hoping that his assumption of their vampire-like captor was accurate enough to make Bulwark have some kind of doubt.
Without hesitation, he responded, "The boss saved me from being killed. If he wanted to get rid of me, he would have just let me die."
For a moment, Jason regretted his words, somehow understanding the connection between the monster and Bulwark. Maybe there was some kind of honor code amongst bad guys, but he sincerely doubted it. Still, the hint of sentiment in Bulwark's voice relayed something more than meaningless employment as a powerful thug.
"At least tell us who the hell you are," Vincent said, adding his own distraction to the plan, much to Rico's pleasure. He locked eyes knowingly, albeit briefly, before resting on the massive mutant still fumbling for restraints.
"The name's Bulwark. Oswald Boeglin. My friends call me Ozzie. But you kids can stick to Bulwark," he replied just as he found wrist and ankle restraints. He turned from the opposite side of the room and leaned down to secure Yvette in the basement prison.
She waited until the last possible second, when Bulwark was most off balance and leaning close, before springing up, hitting him in the chin with her elbow, then bouncing off his broad body with a powerful kick, landing on all fours, extremely close to Rico.
While a dazed Bulwark recovered, she quickly used her claws to cut through Rico's shackles. He climbed to his feet, thankful to be able to move unrestrained. Standing next to Yvette, he watched as Bulwark's eyes flashed red, and he exposed sharp, teeth as he seethed angrily.
"I'll rip you apart!" Bulwark threatened while charging at the duo.
Rico, now desperate, called upon a strength reserve he didn't know he had. Expanding his mind, he took control of the air currents around them, then reached out to those beyond the basement, bringing them all strictly under his command. Without another moment of hesitation, he focused it all into a single concentrated blast of violent wind, which slammed into Bulwark, carried him off his feet, and threw him into the opposite wall.
It all happened so fast, that even he couldn't believe it at first, until he watched Bulwark's head slump and his body crumble to the floor from the dent in the stone wall made from the impact. He was positive that the same attack done to anyone else would have shattered every bone in their body.
Surprised at Rico's quick reaction, Yvette watched curiously as Bulwark's muscles deflated, and his body returned to a frail stature. Surprised at the drastic transformation, she pondered on it for a moment before turning her attention to the other captives.
"You are totally badass!" Rico said, wishing he could pat her on the back. Surprisingly, she seemed to understand the compliment as she returned with a smile. She then sprang into action, freeing the others from their chains, then returned to him and looked at him expectantly.
"Thanks, little girl. Are you an X-Man?" Ty asked, rubbing his raw wrists.
"No," Rico stated. "She's our friend." When she smiled in return, he said to the others, "Okay, we're weak, but at least we're free. The next part of the plan is to get the hell out of here before that guy wakes up again."
The others agreed, quietly falling in line behind Rico as he led the way into the hallway, hoping to locate the exit and get to safety without further incident. But in his heart, he knew that the best laid plans never worked out the way they should. And somewhere, out in the maze-like hallways of their prison, the evil vampire-like monster lurked, waiting for them.
IV.
"Any status update on the energy anomaly?" Richard Arminthorpe entered the room, having just returned from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. While there, he requested that the headmasters investigate into the disappearance of Craig Taylor, Riptide, a resident of the Arminthorpe Corporation.
Casey Chamberlain's eyes remained fixated on the screens in front of him, the multiple inputs of information being taken in simultaneously. A multitude of calculations, measurements, and readings scrolled vertically on many screens, while several screens showed various angles of the mansion hidden within Aldine Forest.
"No status update. It's quite interesting that the energy keeps building, as if whoever is at the center of it is continually drawing power from some unidentified source. I can't get any readings within the mansion, so I can't tell you anything about Craig or the other prisoners. Shouldn't we dispatch a team to infiltrate the mansion to save him and the others?"
"No. I've already spoken to Xavier's—"
"Those jokers?! Forgive me for speaking so frankly, but they could barely handle themselves against us. Whoever is in that mansion is way beyond their ability. They'll be—"
"Just as you underestimate them, they underestimated us. They were caught off-guard and paid for it. They know somewhat what they're getting into and will handle themselves appropriately. Things will get worse before they get better, but I've entrusted Cassidy and Frost to rescue Craig."
"That's surprising. Are you suddenly okay with the Project Genesis subjects playing X-Men at Xavier's?"
"They're learning and growing more powerful by the day. The time will come for them to return home, do not worry. For now, their power is needed elsewhere."
"Sometimes you're hard to read, Mr. Arminthorpe."
"There's a reason for that. Continue monitoring the situation and provide status updates for any significant event."
"Roger."
Richard departed the room, anxious to see just how the young mutants would impress him this time.
V.
It didn't take long for the X-Men's premiere aircraft, dubbed the Blackbird, to cross from New York to Massachusetts, and it was quite a smooth ride thanks to Scott Summers as the pilot and Kurt Wagner in the co-pilot seat.
The leader of the X-Men, called Cyclops in the field, Scott rattled off coordinates and commands, flipping switches and checking dials at the same time. Despite the advanced technology of the Blackbird, the fundamentals remained the same in comparison with the smaller planes he flew frequently when visiting his home in Alaska. As a licensed pilot, it only made sense that he was in the driver's seat, but it had surprised him many years ago when Kurt had taken an interest in flying as well.
Being a high-flying trapeze artist and a teleporter wasn't quite enough for him, so he took up flying lessons from Scott. In almost no time at all, he became the most capable pilot behind Scott, with Ororo and Jean coming in at a close third. They exchanged piloting duties quite often, but Kurt had much more piloting time than the other two put together.
"Approaching target destination in T-minus two minutes," Kurt reported. His nimble hands flew over the console as he made the necessary preparations for a possible landing.
After meeting in the briefing room with Charles and Emma, Scott wrangled together a team to investigate, ensuring that they had a suitable mix of abilities.
Kurt Wagner, known as Nightcrawler, was a teleporter, which would come in handy for infiltration purposes. Also an able fighter, he proved to be an invaluable team member for any mission.
Jean Grey-Summers, Scott's wife and cornerstone of the team, had immense telekinetic and psychic powers, having been infused with the powers of the cosmic Phoenix long ago. Her abilities gave her the most versatility, aggressive or passive, offensive or defensive—she could do it all.
Peter Rasputin was known as Colossus and for good reason. His ability allowed him to turn his skin into an organic metal with the hardiness of adamantium but the flexibility of normal flesh. It also granted him uncharted physical strength, which made him the mainstay brute of the team.
Lucas Bishop was there not only for his experience with Emplates in his future timeline, but also for his tactical planning skills and firearm handling. He was also able to absorb various types of energy and rechannel it into a foreign, destructive energy. A time-displaced mutant known in the field simply by his last name, Bishop forewarned the team of the possible danger of Emplate's plan, his sister having been murdered by one of his progeny.
The last recruit for the ad hoc team was James Logan Howlett. Wolverine. As the top fighter of the team with an uncharted healing ability and heightened senses, he was the ideal offensive piece of the puzzle. Though he and Scott had their differences, they respected each other on a level few knew and even less understood. That was the reason he never populated a team roster without Wolverine being on it.
As the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters liaison, Emma Frost served as a bridge between the two teams and also doubled as an additional psychic powerhouse.
Scott glanced back over his shoulder. "Emma, any word from Sean?"
"None. I can't seem to reach anyone at the school either. And the psychic interference is keeping me from telepathically communicating. Jean, Phoenix, Marvel Girl, Maddie, Redd, whoever you are today...can't you do something about it? I mean, you are the second most powerful telepath on the planet."
"I see you're never short on pleasantries, Emma."
"Well, we're family, right? Correction...in the most figurative sense, trust me. I'm not mixed up in your usual time-traveling, cloning familial debacles. Though somehow, you've managed to mix Lawson up in your convoluted life-death thing with the Phoenix."
Jean thought that they were past their differences. But not surprisingly, Emma was in full bitch mode toward her, which managed to annoy her considerably.
"And just why did the Professor ask me to come along? You have plenty of psychic power with Emma here. And she has enough attitude to dwarf Logan's. You know she still holds a grudge," Jean telepathically stated.
"He thought it would be great bonding time for you two," Scott replied jokingly, glad for the psychic rapport they shared, which allowed them to communicate telepathically without much effort at all.
"Remind me to give him a piece of my mind when I get back. But I'm also more concerned about the kids. She's right, there's a high level of psychic and energy-based interference, but it's erratic and unstable."
"Can you get through?"
"Is my hair red?"
Jean closed her eyes, her face falling into a relaxed expression as her mind expanded beyond the aircraft, reaching through the psychic interference. It was like wading through wet cement as she pushed her way into the secluded mansion, searching for the origin of the disturbance.
She discovered four teens, to include Rico and Yvette, sneaking through the almost maze-like basement. They were safe for the moment, but in a weakened state and trying to hide their fear.
There were also other mutants she hadn't encountered before, dangerous and unique, probably in servitude to Emplate.
She found Monet, near unconsciousness in a room in the upper levels. A powerful psychic, she managed to keep a telepathic beacon shining, hoping that someone would find her. Jean marveled at the girl's power, considering it took an immense amount of energy to maintain such a thing while being knocked out.
I'll have to commend her and teach the others that trick, she mentally noted, before communicating with her. "We're here, Monet."
"Phoenix!" Monet telepathically exclaimed. "Emplate—my brother—I was unexpectedly caught off guard. He's dangerous."
"I can tell. Recover as quickly as possible, and save your strength. We're going to need it."
"I fear that we're too late to stop his plan. He wants to—"
The connection broke, overtaken by another, much stronger presence, and Jean instinctively pulled back. "Scott, he's on the rooftop!"
Fading into existence, Emplate watched the Blackbird bank to the right, circling the mansion high above him. Already comfortable with his newfound, destructive power, it was nothing for him to again summon a destructive wave of foreign energy, releasing an omni-directional sphere of force that shook the entire environment.
The shockwave rocked the Blackbird, disrupting the entire control system while stunning everyone on board. The blast was like nothing they had ever felt. Though concussive in nature, it also carried with it a psychic attack that overloaded their neural systems as it tore through their bodies. The disruptive force rendered them stunned, and the aftershock knocked them out completely. Everyone except Jean.
Long ago, she trained herself to automatically erect telepathic and telekinetic shields to protect herself from attack. Constructing them in a split second was taxing and fending off the bombarding attack took even more effort, but usually, it enabled her to stave off significant injury. But because of the timing and exertion, she couldn't extend this protection beyond herself.
So, when the wave hit, Jean immediately threw up her defenses, which managed to rebuff only a fraction of the damage. But the others weren't as lucky as they dangled lifelessly from their seats. Without pilots or the auto-pilot function, gravity took over and dragged the Blackbird from its lofty position, thousands of feet in the air, towards the unforgiving earth below.
Though dancing on the edge of unconsciousness, she focused her mind, concentrating on wrapping her thoughts around the aircraft. Once she had it, it took another burst of strength to actually begin to soften its drop, changing from an uncontrollable down-spiral to a guided descent. Trees scraped the bottom and sides as the Blackbird continued on a forceful decline at a sharp angle, until it hit the ground then skidded for several hundred feet before stopping, thanks to the rough ground and Jean's telekinesis.
Worn out and still dazed, the darkness overtook her, and she could only give a brief prayer that by the time they awoke, the rest world would still be there.
VI.
Vincente Cimetta wasn't too pleased that Bulwark was taking so damn long. He stormed down the stairs and into the basement hallway, easily navigating through the similar hallways and sharp turns, antsy simply because Emplate summoned them at least ten minutes ago, and tardiness was unacceptable.
Since absorbing the power from the random kids in the basement, Vincente noticed a distinct change in his boss, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what that change was, let alone if it was dangerous. What he did observe is that Emplate seemed a little less stable than before, and there was something intangibly dangerous about this new version. It wasn't the usual disgruntled, angry raving, but a more purposeful, somewhat conflicted, cold demeanor. Such a drastic change was unnerving to say the least.
Still, Vincente remained loyal—he had no other place to go. He had long since given up trying to make his parents understand that being a mutant didn't change the child they had raised, but nothing would change their rigid perspective, so the relationship grew distant and estranged. Though initially a victim of Emplate, he had found the monster once again, and tagged along with the premise that he was there to help with whatever was needed.
Since then, the ranks of hired help had grown—other mutants who were not accepted by family or loved ones took up residence with Emplate, thus creating a family of sorts. Levity and tomfoolery were a minimum, but the perspective of being accepted bonded them beyond any petty scheme or battle. Until now.
When Vincente rounded the corner, the first thing that caught his eye was the wide-open door, which led to the room where the random kids were being kept. It should have been, at the very least, closed and preferably bolted tightly from the outside, but it hung open recklessly, and after a further glimpse inside, he spotted Bulwark, facedown on the floor. He knew even before seeing the abandoned shackles that somehow, the prisoners had escaped.
As Bulwark stirred to life, Vincente studied the scene for telltale signs of their flight. The shackles were cut cleanly, almost as if a sword or razor had sliced through them, which meant the little red girl, Penance, must have been responsible. Considering the disarray of the room and the lack of lacerations, the wind-user must have somehow gained enough strength to launch a successful offensive against Bulwark, and taking into account that he had heightened durability and resilience, the blow must have been extremely powerful to have knocked him completely unconscious.
"Looks like you messed up, Bulwark," Vincente judgingly commented, watching as Bulwark struggled into a sitting position. Rather than addressing him as Ozzie, he stuck to codenames, which made it easier to chastise him.
Vincente reverted back to the fact that he didn't actually have a codename. Misty was one that he threw out, but after being scoffed by one of those Generation X brats, he quickly rescinded it. He wasn't quite sure how all those X-people figured out codenames and had enough time to change them multiple times to something that usually sounded more threatening or catchy than the last.
"Screw you, Vincen—"
"Shift. I'm going by Shift now. You know, the whole shifting from solid to liquid to gas. Yep, that's me. Anyways, we're supposed to see the boss. He's on the roof. And he's not going to be too pleased at this."
"Shit. Those kids. That girl. She—"
Vincente cut him off. "Don't explain to me. I really don't care about those kids one way or the other. But the boss, he's the one that's going to have your ass in a sling. We're already late, so pull yourself together, and let's go."
Bulwark moved extremely gingerly, trailing behind Vincente as they made their way back through the hallways, then up the stairs to the roof. Once, there, they saw Emplate standing near the edge of the balcony, his eyes locked on something within the surrounding forest.
"What happened?" Emplate asked without turning around.
Vincente answered promptly, "This dummy let them escape."
The quick answer and gravity of the situation hit Bulwark, and his trepidation came out in his voice as rushed and shaky words. "It was that red-skinned girl, she—"
"No excuses," Emplate responded, leaving no room for additional comments. "They are of no consequence, as I have what I need from them. I will deal with your stupidity later. Right now, tend to Rich Cale. Make sure he does not interfere."
Vincente predicted that as their next task. "We'll start at his hotel, then work our way to tracking him from there."
Emplate nodded slightly, granting permission to proceed. "Where are my sisters?" he asked after a pause.
"In the bedroom, just as you directed," Vincente said. "They haven't woken up yet."
"That's fine. Now go. But know this, I will not tolerate any more failure. My plan is coming to fruition nicely. There is one more piece I must deal with before my ascension."
Ascension? Vincente was sure it sounded dangerous, irreversible, and life-altering, but he didn't question Emplate's plan. Instead, he nodded to Bulwark, and they set off to find Rich Cale. His only hope was that whatever the end-state was of the boss's plans, that he would continue to remain at his side, accepted and needed.
Notes:
Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.
Richard Cale, Godiva Cale, Kai Matougi, and Rimo are all based on characters created by Richard Sampson, who has stories posted as well