I.
The day couldn't end fast enough for David Thompson. He hadn't felt quite well all day, and it seemed that the usual polite demeanor of the hotel patrons and staff had been completely forgotten, replaced by spicy rudeness and nerve-racking quibbling. Maybe his nerves were short—he always regarded himself as a big baby when it came to the slightest ailment that threatened his health.
At the first sneeze, cough, or scratchy throat, he would overdose on vitamin C, wrap himself in blankets, and flood his system with water and Gatorade. But he didn't have that luxury today since Sonya Willingham simply didn't show up for work. And his boss, being the passive man he was, didn't want to face a potential confrontation, so he called David.
And David, being the reliable man that he was, couldn't find it in himself to say no. So, despite the oncoming of a cold, he acquiesced to cover her shift and trudged through the day, pretending to be healthy when really he felt like crap inside.
Not only that, but apparently, an international business owner had checked into the hotel, and they also had a reservation for an ambassador. He couldn't quite remember the name of the ambassador, something like Saint Joy maybe, but he instantly recognized the business owner, Rich Cale.
It was only coincidence, but he happened to be from the same city, Easton. They had gone to elementary school together and had actually played on the same soccer team for a while. But Rich was moved to a private school, so their paths crossed infrequently. When Rich's parents were murdered, it became a national sensation, David finding out through the newspaper and television interviews. Since then, he kept tabs on his childhood friend, following his life through official periodicals and tabloids.
After high school, when he decided to move to America, David lost track of Rich. But at shift change, the previous front desk clerk reported all check-ins and outs, and he instantly latched onto Rich Cale's name when he heard it. Excited, he hoped to run into Rich again, not only to catch up, but it also felt good seeing a familiar face.
As he finished tagging rooms for cleanup, a couple approached the counter. He dreaded it at first, swearing that he wouldn't be able to take another impatient, abrupt interaction. However, the smiling couple, an African-American male and Asian female, instantly lifted his spirits, making him forget his fatigue and illness momentarily.
"Good afternoon," he greeted pleasantly. "How can I assist you?"
"Hey, David," Everett returned, having read the silver nametag on the desk clerk's dark blue, button-down shirt. "My girlfriend and I lost our key, can we get another one?"
"No problem, sir. What was your—"
"Ya know," Jubilee interrupted. "I heard Rich Cale was stayin' in this hotel. Like tha super-awesome Rich Cale from England! Oh my gawd, he's pretty cool, an' rich, an' like tha man! He was like in tha latest edition of Entrepreneur, ya know, that mag with all tha like filthy rich hotties? Mega-awesome!"
"I wasn't on duty when he checked in, but the other front desk clerk told me about it since I used to live in that same region. We actually went to the same elementary school."
Inside, Jubilee's heart leaped at the prime opportunity which had presented itself. Their ad hoc plan would play out much more easily than originally anticipated. Readying herself, she took the lead on getting to Rich through the desk clerk.
"Dude! Like no way! See, my aunt used ta be like on his staff way back in tha day, He's pretty chill—he jus' comes off as like stuffy and regal…we've gotta friend like that. You should like totally jus' surprise him with a visit up ta his room! I bet he'd be totally glad ta see someone from his hometown."
David shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, I don't know if I could quite do that…wouldn't that seem like a bit stalker-ish?" Honestly, he had thought of doing that very thing, but surely, there was some hotel regulation about visiting guests. Besides, he felt as if he would be intruding on whatever business Rich had. Hearing the idea come from someone else made it sound less far-fetched and inappropriate, but he still hesitated.
"Nah," Jubilee waved off his concern. "We'll like go up there with ya! Like duh! I've been dyin' ta meet him!"
"That's a great idea, babe!" Everett chimed in, giving her a quick squeeze.
The gesture caught her off guard and for a moment, she paused. So many circumstances had transpired that she had long ago pushed her crush on Everett aside, focusing on whatever current crisis demanded her attention. But being here and pretending to be his girlfriend resurrected those feelings, and for a moment, she blushed slightly but kept her composure.
David let his eyes wander thoughtfully. "I guess I could go on a break real quick. And it would seem much less weird if you guys went with me. Okay, let me check and see what room he's in. Hmm…room three zero-eight."
"Dude, this is like so awesome! By tha way, I'm Jubilee and this is like Everett. Good ta meet ya!"!" Jubilee gushed.
Elated, David phoned the back office, letting them know he was going on break. Someone would be at the front to cover, but until then, he placed the "will return in five minutes" placard in plain view. "I really appreciate you guys doing this. We were best friends in elementary school but lost touch."
"This should be a great reunion then," Everett said. He felt a little bad for deceiving David, and even worse that serendipitous circumstance made their plan execute much more smoothly than he anticipated. It was true that they were taking advantage of David's friendship with Rich. However, with everything going on, they needed a little luck on their side, so he figured that an apology later would suffice if something went wrong.
Jubilee launched forward, waving through the lobby. "Hey, like hold that elevator!"
That's a cue if I ever saw one, Angelo grinned. He didn't think they would pull something off so quickly, but his two teammates were accompanied by a desk clerk, so they must have made some progress. "We're up, amigos," he said to Clarice and Graylon.
A crowd of people poured out of the last elevator on the left, and that's the one Angelo took. He kept the button depressed to leave the doors open, as Jubilee, Everett, and David briskly approached. As they stepped into the elevator, Everett gave a nod of gratitude and pressed the third floor button as the door closed.
David eyed the three strangers suspiciously, keeping his eyes locked on the girl with pink-hued skin in the back. Leaning in to Jubilee, he said, "I think those folks are mutants."
She resisted a laugh. "Ya like totally don't say! Do ya think they're dangerous?"
He gave another glance at the blonde, Hispanic, and pink girl. They didn't look particularly threatening, but all three of them had an unspeakable edge to them that made David think twice about their intent. "Maybe."
Everett heard the exchange and glad for the opportunity, he played off of it. "Hey, guys," he turned to the trio behind him. "Do you know Rich Cale?"
"No hablo ingles," the Hispanic shrugged.
The pink-hued female looked puzzled. "Mitch Dale?"
"I think I heard the name once or twice..." the blonde responded thoughtfully.
Jubilee blew out an exasperated breath. "Dudes, you are so lame! Like Rich Cale is this totally awesome—wait, why doncha jus' come with us?! We're goin' up ta see him! See, this is like his BFF an' junk, like they're from tha same school. An' my aunt—well, she always talked him up, like he was this totally awesome guy. I think you'd like him too!"
David froze, surprised at the outgoing nature of the couple. He was more reserved, and had to force himself to talk to the unfamiliar people checking into the hotel. But he would have never, never spoken to complete strangers in an elevator. Let alone mutants.
It wasn't that he had something against them. In fact, he thought it would be quite cool to have a mutant for a friend. But he saw the news and understood that some of them had powers so dangerous that they were a threat to anyone around them. Not to mention the bad mutants who used their powers to terrorize everyone else. And there was no telling what side of the tracks these mutants in the elevator came from.
David whispered, "I don't know if all of us should—"
"Like it's totally cool! We don't mind!" Jubilee smiled, her lively demeanor completely drowning out his growing trepidation.
She, like Everett, felt a hint of guilt for using him, but if things were as bad as they seemed, they didn't have time to do things the "right" way. Sure, they could have simply waltzed into the place, blown up some doors, and found what they were looking for, but this was much more clandestine. And fun!
Normally, David's sense of logic and responsibility governed his every move, and a situation like this wouldn't have ever occurred. However, with the way the day had gone, his near-illness, he prospect of seeing an old friend, and the influence of a seemingly nice couple, he was making decisions that were quite out of character. But if all went well, he figured it would be well worth it.
So, when the time came to object to the additional members of the Cale welcoming party, he didn't. He hesitantly acquiesced to the suggestion, though he still felt apprehensive about keeping company with the strange mutants and hoped Rich Cale wasn't the type to have an issue with meeting them.
"This is going to be so cool!" Jubilee gushed as the elevator doors slid open. She led the way into the third floor hallway, spied the placard that directed her to the right for room 308, then charged forward, the rest of the group trailing behind. "Guys, ya can't be like all loud and junk, like fer reals. We're supposed ta be like surprisin' him."
The group giggled a little, but the chatter silenced, while David pulled out the master key card. Making his way to the door, he ran the card through the reader and a gentle click sounded, then a latch pulled back. He pulled the handle and pushed the door open, peering into the room while keeping everyone from stampeding into the place. "Mr. Cale?" he called.
"Richie! Come out, come out!" Jubilee said over his shoulder, but a silencing wave from David made her clamp her hand over her mouth. She giggled underneath, playing up the role of a ditzy, awe-struck tourist, but underneath, she rejoiced at their success.
The front desk clerk surveyed the suite, including the bathroom, then returned to the group. "I should have simply called him—it doesn't look like he's here."
"Bummer!" Jubilee responded, inciting a few other words of disappointment from the others.
David too felt somewhat deflated. "Maybe we should go—"
Jubilee winked at Everett before replying. "Dude! Like no way! Here's tha sitch—since he's not here, it's like totally perfect. We can jus' hide in tha room and surprise 'em when he like comes back. My aunt told me that he likes that sort of thing, ya know? You can be tha lookout, since yer totally low-key. Whadya think?"
"But what if he doesn't come back for a long time?" he asked, not quite convinced that this was a good idea at all.
"Silly guy! We'll just wait like twenty minutes fer 'em. If he's not back by then, we'll jus' like figure somethin' else out."
Succumbing to her rationale and practical logic, he responded, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. And I really want to meet him. And if he likes surprises—"
"Then lookout already! We'll hide!"
David gave the five teens, three of them mutants for sure, a last, curious glance before rushing out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.
"I can't believe that actually worked," Graylon said, shaking his head.
"Dude," Jubilee quickly responded, "if you're gonna roll with us, ya can't be like doubtin' our skills."
Angelo gave a grunt of dissention. "A gotta take his side on this one. Seriously though, did Ev synch with Monet or Mike before we rolled out here and pulled some of that psychic shit on him?"
Everett nodded negatively. "Not at all. Jubes was pretty convincing. We have to chalk it up to pure, dumb luck. It happens sometimes, and it's best when it gives us an advantage."
Clarice stated, "Well, regardless of the reason, we're here. What exactly are we supposed to find?"
"Not too sure. Anything that ties Rich Cale to Emplate or Ambassador St. Croix," Everett responded, already scanning the lavish hotel room.
He found himself equally as impressed as he was with the exterior. The room hosted a mix of traditional and contemporary furniture, with a similar combination of décor. It was surprisingly inviting and comfortable, reminding Everett of his own home.
To the others, he said, "Just look around, but don't disturb anything. We're not here to ransack the room."
"Understood," Clarice said. She began her search in the living room area, while Everett and Jubilee checked one side of the bedroom. Angelo explored the bathroom, and Graylon investigated the opposite side of the bedroom.
"Dude. Are we really gonna find anythin' like useful in this place?" Jubilee said aloud, more as a rhetorical question than anything else.
"Maybe something like this?" Graylon waved a worn, leather journal before handing it to Everett.
The others gathered around as he flipped through the pages, a concerned look taking over his features.
Graylon asked, "So, what does it say?"
Everett cleared his throat then read the passages aloud.
"Emplate, an evil being which is a cross between the undead and a dark priest. This creature sustains itself through feeding off the energy of any living thing, preferably humans or mutants, though continuous feeding from the same source will cause it to adapt that source's characteristics and features."
"Through this interaction, it can also create beings with attributes much like itself, converting other humans into Emplate-like creatures. These monsters are under its strict control, but can be reverted back to their original existence through magic or lost proximity from Emplate."
"Existing in an ethereal form in an unknown alternate dimension, the Emplate can exist physically in this realm by bonding with a host. Through this merger, it gains the abilities of its host, though the merger creates a psychologically unstable existence as the psyches combine."
Clarice shook her head. "Wow. This Emplate thing is dangerous."
"But did ya see tha part about tha psyches? Could that like mean Monet's brother is really possessed by this Emplate thing?" Jubilee asked.
"That's what it seems like. So maybe there's a way to separate them," Clarice logically suggested.
Graylon surmised, "And maybe that's why Rich Cale was here. If he has books like this and knows the origin of Emplate, chances are he knows how to combat it. And separate it from its host."
Everett took it a step farther. "Well, maybe Kiana was right about the kidnappings. If Emplate is possessing Marius, maybe he's trying to gain enough power to actually do it."
"And so, he's kidnapping random mutants?" Graylon asked.
"Not random. Either Marius or Emplate can absorb mutant energy and reuse it. But if one of them can wield magic, then maybe the absorption is something more—like maybe he can combine the energies into a more dangerous type of power. That being said, she thought that the mutants that were being kidnapped were those who had elemental-type powers."
"Dios. I thought we had it rough dealing with Emplate alone. Now, you're tellin' me that we've got some magic bullshit to deal with too? What's next? We get sucked into that Limbo place?" Angelo half-heartedly joked. But when he thought back to some of their unpredictable adventures, he realized such an idea wasn't that far-fetched.
Everett flipped through the weathered pages, stopping on a page with several entries. Something inexplicable caught his attention, and as he read, the content gripped him tightly. Aloud, he read, "We have the honor of being a line of Arcanists, those endowed with a natural connection to various forms of magic, focusing on mastering the arts to continue to protect this realm and world from the continual threat of invasion and infiltration."
"With my son being the first mutant in our family, his powers as an Arcanist are undeterminable at this time. My assessment is that he has the potential to be the most powerful in our entire family line, but only time will tell. Richard Cale, Sr."
Jubilee blew only a small bubble, breaking the smothering silence left by Everett's pondering over the implications of the journal entries. She then said, "Like ol' Frosty likes ta say, this totally changes everythin'."
Everett nodded, fully understanding the gravity of the situation. With Cartier being taken, and Emplate out there somewhere plotting, they didn't have much time to mull over ambiguous clues. "You're right. We've got to get back to the school, and tell the others that—"
"Oh my god!" David ducked into the room, slammed the door behind him, and leaned back against it, his chest heaving and face paled. His mind whirled, and it took him a moment to regain some sort of sensible composure.
Graylon cocked a disapproving eyebrow, dismissing the clerk's panic for over-exaggerated admiration. "You have got to be kidding me. You can't possibly be that excited over this Cale character."
"Is he like comin'?" Jubilee asked, ignoring Graylon's comment.
"No," David gasped, suddenly searching for the right words. "There's a group of monsters out there." He held his breath, waiting for someone to laugh at the absurdity of such a claim, but the expressions of interest and concern eased his trepidation about the alarmed announcement.
Clarice repeated, "Monsters?" At first, she thought he was joking, but when his expression didn't change, she began to take his words seriously. She shot a glance to the others, who appeared puzzled but pondering over the potential danger. She asked, "What did they look like?"
"I—I don't—there was a mummy. And some guy with fog all around him. And some big, broad, steroid freak of nature," the descriptions rushed from David, a little louder than an urgent, hushed whisper. On the other side of the door, he could hear their footsteps—they were getting closer.
"Emplate's goons," Jubilee definitely stated. "We've got like serious trouble. They're prob'ly here fer Richie Rich."
Angelo replied, "Talk about the wrong place at the wrong time. Can we really afford a fight right now?"
"No," Everett answered. "But I don't think they'll listen to reason."
At the door, there was a light knock, followed by a fake, vaguely foreign accent, "Room service! I know you are in there!"
"Umm...I'm naked. Leave it at the door! Thanks!" Graylon said, shrugging toward the others when they shot him an annoyed glare. David backed away from the door quickly, taking his place next to the others as all eyes were locked on it.
The door exploded inward from a forceful blow, courtesy of Bulwark, who stepped aggressively into the room, followed closely behind by Wrap and Vincente.
"Where's Cale?" the massive mutant pointedly asked.
Jubilee frowned. "Like why like ask us, creepola? Don't you guys totally have dibs on stalking our peeps?"
Vincente snapped, "Don't bluff. You either tell us where he is, or we beat it out of you."
Graylon cracked a challenging smile as his adamantium hands morphed into jagged, claws. "You're threatening the wrong kids."
"I agree with the annoying blonde," Clarice said, readying herself in an offensive fighting stance.
From the other side of the room, Jubilee warned, "David, dude, stand back. This may like get a little intense fer ya!"
"You stupid monsters," David said before he hurled a vase at them, finding a target on Bulwark's forehead. He was surprised that he had actually hit one of them, but his joy was short-lived, replaced by anger and determination. "I don't know what you want with Mr. Cale, but I'll fight alongside these guys to make sure you don't get your hands on him."
"Wrong move, puny," Bulwark said, charging the group, barreling through Vincente whose body had already shifted into a gaseous state.
"Speaking of wrong moves," Clarice said before teleporting the ground from underneath him, letting him fall to the room below. "Know who you're dealing with before charging headfirst...it might save you a few broken bones next time."
"You teleported him?" David asked, astounded.
"Trust me, I could have done far worse," she replied, turning her attention toward her teammates, who were separately struggling against Vincente and Wrap. "Grab the books, I'll help them."
David nodded, his heart thumping against his chest. Never in a million years did he expect to be in the middle of a fight between mutants over his childhood friend. And he never thought that he would have been bold enough to aggressively confront a mutant at least ten times his size. Yet, here he was, on the same side as the good guys, rushing across the room to grab the mysterious books that were strewn across the floor.
He grabbed the leather-bound journals, hoping that he didn't get blasted in the back or turned into a pile of mush because of some wayward energy beam.
"Hand over those books, human!"
David cradled the books close to his chest, and whipped around to face the amorphous cloud approaching him. Purple and thick, the heavy fog rolled over itself, threatening to engulf him in its unknown depths. He took a retreating step, pulling the books closer, the feeling of dread paralyzing him.
From behind the cloud, Graylon said, "We weren't done, Misty."
"Oh?" Vincente said, redirecting his advance back toward Graylon. "You can't lay a finger on me. And the name's Shift. Now, let's see what your lungs look like..."
David should have been relieved, but his concern went out for the blonde, who moments ago was swept off his feet and tossed around by the cloud-like adversary. But somehow, even after the assault, he was back on his feet, challenging the bad guy, and subsequently rescuing him from the same fate.
These books must be important! There must be something in them that can help!
He dropped to one knee, setting the other books on the ground, while opening the thickest one. The musty, aged pages crinkled with every quick flip, and the odor made his nose crinkle as he tried to decipher the rather strange print. Instead of letters and words, the writing some something that should have been discovered in an ancient tomb or a hidden chest within a booby trapped structure.
He focused as Bulwark burst through another part of the floor, angry and searching for a victim...maybe him. He glanced toward Jubilee and Everett, who were indisposed with the mummy. The villainous creature had them both restrained with its bandages as they struggled to free themselves unsuccessfully. Just beyond them, the blonde and pink girl challenged the bad guy alternating between a gaseous and physical state, which made their fight almost impossible. The other guy, who only spoke Spanish, managed to distract Bulwark only for a moment before being batted to the side.
And that's when David was spotted.
Dammit!
There was no way he would survive a blow from the huge meathead now plowing towards him. Frantic, he continued to flip the pages, hoping that something would catch his eye, but the symbols didn't become any more decipherable as the behemoth barreled his way. Almost at the end of the journal, David paused as he happened upon a slip of paper between the worn pages.
"In case of an emergency, use this. Rimo," he read aloud, bewilderment giving way to desperation. With no time to figure out any of the screaming questions in the back of his mind, he unfolded the paper, and read, "Oh Vishani, in this dire moment of peril, lend this mortal but a mere granule of your immense and awesome power to protect humanity. Let our enemies be transparent to you, great ones, and their plight deterred with this summoning. Mystic revelation!"
At the utterance of the final word, it seemed that the entire room slowed to a near stop, every movement reduced to a languid gesture. The surrounding, ambient light dimmed, summoning malevolent shadows and seemingly endless pits of darkness. A wind whipped from everywhere at once, tossing first only light objects, then quickly and easily moved much larger objects, to the point that they were in the middle of a violent tornado.
Without any further warning, the wind shifted, sucked into sudden black wormholes that erupted from nowhere. But instead of dragging everything into their vast, endless existence, the only ones that were pulled against their will were the mutant enemies after Rich Cale. The mummy, mist guy, and the meathead were sucked into the portals, and just as suddenly as they appeared, they disappeared, and everything abruptly returned to normal.
"What the hell did you do?" Graylon asked.
"I—I don't know. It was something I read from here. I didn't know what else to do," he explained, stuck between feelings of relief, panic, and guilt. Relief—the bad guys were gone. Panic—what the hell had happened? Guilt—had he killed the bad guys? "Everything happened so fast. It was intense!"
Angelo said, "Bienvenidos a nuesto mundo."
Everett asked, "Are you okay?"
"Y—yeah," David stammered a bit, his heart still pounding against his ribcage. Though his head still spun, he managed to keep from losing his balance. "I—I wasn't get hurt back there. But are you guys really friends of Rich's? And why were those monsters after him? Just what is going on here?"
Guilty, Jubilee stepped forward, locking eyes with David. "Look, I'll level wit' ya. We go ta tha Xavier School fer Gifted Youngsters, and we're in tha middle of this like totally humungous sitch that Rich Cale is somehow a part of. We have ta find him so we can save our friends. I can't like tell ya more than that 'cause we're not too sure ourselves. We didn't mean to totally mislead ya or anythin', but there's a lot on tha line here. I understand if ya don't trust us, but like know that we're tryin' ta do tha right thing."
Her words were sincere, and really hit David, rendering him speechless for a moment. This was his first interaction with known mutants, and it didn't go anything like he ever imagined. He was brave. He was scared. He was angry. And he was thankful. Confused, tired, and sick, he knew that everything was hitting him at once. But her words broke through all of that, and he could honestly understand their plight.
"That makes sense. I wish you hadn't lied, but honestly, I probably wouldn't have let you up for any other reason. Here," he said as he handed over the books. "I think you guys are pretty cool, and I hope that you find him. There's probably more monsters like that out there, so be careful. And don't forget about me over here—I still would like to meet Mr. Cale."
"Hey, no prob. As soon as we like kick some bad guy ass, we'll throw a party fer reals. And like trust you'll be on tha invite list!"
David smiled genuinely. "You know, it felt good to kind of fight alongside you guys. There are plenty of people that are scared of mutants—I was one of them. There are also people that hate you guys. But I wish that they could just fight alongside you once...I think they would see that there are some good ones out there."
Graylon blew out an impatient sigh. "Aren't we supposed to find Cale? Right now, we're wasting time with the afterschool special you guys are starring in."
"You sure know how to ruin something nice," Clarice icily responded.
Everett asked, "Blink, can you get us back to the car?"
"No problem."
"Like those creepozoids shouldn't be back. Sorry about tha rooms...you can just send tha bill to the school. Frostie will pick up the tab! Laters!"
David waved as the five teens disappeared into an endless circular void, laced with glowing pink energy. Just as fast as they had come into his life, they were gone.
David let out a sigh of relief. He was glad things were calm, but he couldn't help but to be concerned for Rich Cale and the mutants he just met. A part of him wished that he could have gone with them to help, but the other part of him understood the inherent danger of simply being around mutants, let alone getting mixed up in some kind of epic adventure.
So, he resigned himself to figure out how to explain the hole in the floor and the broken, displaced furniture. He'd definitely make sure to throw Emma Frost's name in the conversation for taking care of the repairs...maybe that would somehow keep him from being fired. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, apprehensive but at the same time, feeling as if he could conquer the world.
And he hoped the new mutants he met felt the same. Something told him they would need all of the confidence and energy they could muster.
II.
"Phoenix!" Monet St. Croix snapped into a sitting position, abandoning any symptoms of her unconsciousness instantly. In the next few seconds, she was to her feet and barricading her mind from any further attack with nearly impenetrable psychic shields, while assessing the current situation.
The energy swirling around the mansion was stifling and oppressive, stronger and more foreign than anything she had felt before, and she knew that it was coming from Emplate. Her brother. Marius. She didn't know how he had gotten so strong, but she knew his plan. But there was something that unnerved her, something that made her question everything she thought they knew about Emplate.
For so long, Monet had convinced herself that her brother was no more, his psyche twisted and broken into the maniacal creature known to them as Emplate. Though he constantly claimed to be her brother, and she would entertain it, deep down, she refused to believe that her brother even really existed. But after a happenstance glimpse into his mind before his psychic attack, she knew that her brother was indeed somewhere in the darkness invading his mind.
But his psyche was shattered, those pieces easily subdued by Emplate, who seemed to be something else...another entity entirely dwelling within his body. Though a losing battle, Marius continued to struggle for dominance, his thoughts, ambitions, and willpower merging with Emplate's, becoming something tainted and twisted. His actions belonged to neither Marius or Emplate, but to a consciousness that existed as an amalgam between the two, which made him that much more dangerous and unpredictable.
Monet hoped that the X-Men were somewhere nearby. She felt Jean's presence near the mansion, but pinpointing their exact location was difficult, making it unclear whether the X-Men were actually inside or if they were detained on the outskirts of the grounds. Regardless, they were here, which meant there were reinforcements.
Her psychic shields stronger than before, and her vitality soaring, Monet stole into the hallway while keeping her enhanced senses alert for anything out of place. As she took quieted steps down the hallway, an ajar door near the end caught her eye. A small sliver of light sliced through the darkness, begging her to investigate. Not one to shy away from a curious situation, she readied herself as she neared the door.
She pushed it open, cautiously surveying the room until her eyes rested upon the bed. Taking a step inside, Monet blinked away the assumed hallucination, but paused as the scene didn't change as expected. She approached the bed and touched the delicate shoulder of the young girl lying next a mirror image of herself, both girls younger versions of Monet herself.
"Nicole?" she whispered.
The girl stirred as her eyes fluttered open. "Monet," Nicole groggily identified. "Oh, Monet!" she jolted of her disorientation and threw her arms around her older sister. On the other side of the bed, Claudette moved, stretched, and then sat up totally aware.
"How did you two get here? What happened?"
"It was horrible! Emplate got into the school and chased us! The last thing I remember is a wave of energy coming at us! Where is everyone else? Where are we?"
Visualizing Emplate's intrusion, Monet fumed, vowing that the monster would pay for the damage he caused ten-fold. As she pulled away from her sister, she said, "I have no awareness of our teammates' whereabouts. I was unexpectedly overtaken in a confrontation with Emplate and recovered only moments ago. Regardless, we must depart this area—are the both of you fit to walk?"
The twins nodded almost simultaneously as they swung their legs over the side of the bed. In a smooth movement, both girls hopped down, and took in their surroundings. A stark contrast to their bedroom at the school, this one was dark and dreary, colorless. The stone walls were a dry gray, and the floors and ceilings were a slightly shade than that. The dresser, nightstands, and armoire were sturdy, but antique, so it was a bit worn and weathered. The bed wasn't comfortably soft, and it was dressed in ashen sheets and a comforter with matching, drawn curtains.
Uneasy, Nicole took Claudette's hand, then she looked to Monet. "I think we're okay. But I really don't like this place. And Claudette doesn't either."
"Stay behind me, we shall immediately depart this place. I refuse to let either of you remain vulnerable to the dangers of our adversaries."
"But we can fight too!"
Monet started toward the door. "Of this, I am fully aware. However, it is my responsibility to protect you. And I intend to do just that." She peeked out of the door to ensure there were no sentries, before turning back to her sisters.
"What about Emplate? Or Marius?" Nicole asked.
Monet paused. "That is something I cannot immediately discern. But we must release ourselves from his grasp as soon as possible. I feel that something genuinely disastrous lies ahead if we remain here."
"But Monet," she pleaded, "Marius is—"
"I know," Monet replied much more tersely than she meant. She took a deep, relaxing breath. "I apologize. I fear that this has grown much larger than just him. His power is unstable, and he's willing to use it to meet his goals. We cannot help him...not right now. I have to guarantee your safety first."
Nicole nodded. "Are we going to be able to save him?"
Though she possessed knowledge beyond her years, it was a question that Monet wasn't ready to answer. Nor could she. Instead, she led her twin sisters into the dark corridor, hoping that their escape was less eventful than their entry.
III.
"Dammit. I still cannae get a hold o' Emma," Sean Cassidy cursed as he disconnected the call for the tenth time. He slipped the sleek device back into his Celtics jacket before beginning to pace the length of Chief Dan Authier's office. He had so many things running through his mind, that he couldn't think about all of it and remain still. His aquamarine eyes flashed with focus as his mind replayed through the events up to this point.
Only moments ago, one of his students, Michael Lawson, received a rather violent telepathic cry for help from Monet St. Croix. Apparently, she had fallen into the clutches of Emplate, a longstanding adversary of the students and also her brother. Not only that, but he had received an alert from Rico Vidal's phone, indicating that an unforeseen catastrophe had struck him and another student, Vincent Sellenger. Both of them were targets of Emplate's scheme, previously predicted by their initial hypothesis of Emplate's plan. On top of all of that, Ambassador St. Croix was kidnapped from the airport without a trace.
Currently, Sean had four of the other students with him—Ethan Callaghan, Paige Guthrie, Michael Lawson, and Kiana Asahara—at the police station, hoping to at least share information that would help them with the case of the missing teenagers. They suspected that Emplate was behind the kidnappings, and with the series of events that had already occurred, there was no denying that was indeed the case.
"What's your next move?" Dan asked, his arms crossed in pensive worry. "My men are still scouring the airport for any evidence of the Ambassador's disappearance. I can dispatch more to Aldine Forest if needed."
Sean shook his head. "Ah dinnae want anyone else gettin' hurt. No offense, but yuir men cannae stand up t' th' likes o' Emplate and his henchmen."
"That's fair. But if it's related to the case we're working on and the Ambassador's kidnapping, we have to be involved."
"Aye. Ah dinnae disagree with ye. But—" his response was cut off by the unexpected vibrating of his phone. When he answered it, an urgent but familiar voice surprised him.
"Sean, can you hear me?"
"Jean! It's fuzzy, but Ah can hear ye!"
"The Blackbird is down. We're outside of the mansion Emplate has been hiding in. Emma is here too."
"Thank th' heavens yuir okay."
"We've had better days, trust me, but none the worse for wear. Monet seems to be unharmed—I was able to reach her telepathically before we went down. But Emplate is extremely dangerous, but his power is immense and severely unstable. It's nothing I've ever seen before."
"We think he's using the kidnapped mutants as a source for bolstering his magical abilities. Ah'm not exactly sure what he plans t' do with it though."
"As soon as we've recovered, we're heading in."
"We can—"
"Stay there," she responded firmly. "We aren't sure how far-reaching this is going to be. They may need your help there. Make sure the students at the school stay there, where it's safe. Don't worry, we'll take care of Monet, and if the kidnapped teens are here too, we'll find them."
Sean had known Jean a long time, and understood that she wouldn't have been directive unless the situation was dire, which only made him that much more concerned.
"Aye. We'll be on standby. Ah know ye are all capable, but be careful, lass. Everythin' about this seems abnormal an' dangerous."
"I can tell you're getting old, Sean. You worry too much," Jean gave him a friendly wink, and even through the static, he caught a glint of undeniable power in her emerald eyes.
"Ha! Someone has t' worry about ye. Jus' keep me posted."
"Will do. Phoenix out."
Sean ended the call, and caught his own anxious expression. The kids were keenly perceptive, and he didn't want to worry them. But as he attempted a reassuring smile, their stares told him that they already knew something was terribly wrong.
"What did she say?" Paige asked, voicing the question everyone else was thinking of asking.
As he slipped the phone back in his pocket, he replied, "We're on standby here, in case anything else happens. Ah'm gonna keep tryin' th' school jus' t' make sure th' lads there are okay."
Ethan sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand why we're supposed to stay here, but I feel useless. We're just waiting for something to happen?"
"We're here t' support th' town in case somethin' goes wrong," he replied, understanding the young man's point. He didn't want to risk getting the students into a dangerous situation. However, Sean was sure that they were fully capable of defending themselves and possibly providing some kind of offensive front if needed.
Not wanting to delve into it any farther, he turned to the chief of police and asked, "Do ye mind our help, Dan?"
He smiled in response. "Not at all. If things are that bad, then I'm glad you're here. The annual festival is going on today and tonight, and most of the town is going to be out and about. My men are going to be around, but if something else happens with Emplate, everyone may be at risk. In the meantime, I get what you're saying, so we'll hold fast at your discretion. Consider this a partnership."
"Tis fair," Sean replied. He was thankful that Dan was proving easy to work with in these matters. If they had opposition from the local police, it would make everything that much harder.
Kiana asked, "So, we're kind of working on the case as policemen together?"
Dan nodded. "I'd consider you a specialized unit within the department. That's actually been the problem with the rest of the force—they believe you guys act outside of the law. Your autonomy is taken as a negative thing. I don't see it that way though. But there are times when we need your help, and there are times when we have information that will help you. I've worked with a special unit within the FBI that does the same thing—Agent Noah Bishop has a team of mind specialists—mutants—who tackle cases dealing with specific cases involving other psychics."
"I didn't know that, Chief," Michael said. It seemed that every time he spoke to Dan, a new aspect of his life was revealed, making him that much more interesting and respectable.
"Not many people do," replied Dan. "Some are aware that I worked with the FBI before coming here to Snow Valley. That's why I want there to be more unity between your school and the authorities—it would benefit both sides and help with the mutant-human relations in general."
"Aye," agreed Sean. "As a former Interpol agent, collaboration is never a bad thing. Ah'll talk t' Charles an' Emma, but Ah think they'll agree."
Dan smiled, glad for the progress. "Good. I'll informally socialize it among the force. When all of this is over, maybe we can make a formal announcement."
Pleased at the progress, Sean turned his attention to Michael. It was only a few minutes ago that his student received a powerful telepathic communication from Monet, which managed to physically affect him with a headache and nosebleed. Sean still didn't understand the intricacies of telepathic abilities, so he wasn't sure about the severity or permanency of the injuries. He approached Michael, kneeling next to him while pulling out his cell phone again.
"Ah've got a medical application that can scan ye fer any medical issues. I jus' need ye t' hold still fer jus' a moment," he explained as he tapped the screen, then positioned it to capture Michael's head within the screen. "How are ye feelin'?"
"The headache has subsided. Monet just caught me off guard—I realized she was powerful, but her telepathy carries a lot of heat with it."
Sean waited for a moment, then received a return message from Cerebro, which indicated an excellent medical status. "And...?"
Michael sighed, realizing he hadn't been doing a good job of distracting himself from the situation yesterday. His confusion must have been plainly evident for Sean to be asking about it now. He didn't really want to go into it too much, not while everything else was happened, but since he was asked, Michael felt a little more comfortable talking about it.
"The whole Phoenix thing still has me thrown off. I'm trying to not think about it, since we've had one thing to happen after another. It just complicates things. At least I don't have that voice inside of my head anymore. But I'm also connected to a power that I don't fully understand. Jean and I saw it dissipate, but I don't know...I still feel like something is there, hiding. Waiting. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. But still..."
Sean patted his student's shoulder for reassurance. "Ye can control yuir power—that's th' beginnin' t' understandin' it. Th' rest will come in time. Ah think Jean will agree that even after all this time, she cannae grasp th' full scope o' th' Phoenix. Trust me on this—th' lass has had t' live through many difficult situations, but as ye can see, she has conquered her fears an' taken responsibility fer th' powers she has. Tis not easy by any means. But ye have us t' lean on...don't deal wit' this by yuirself."
Ethan chimed in, "Agreed. Mike, I didn't mean to press you so hard, but I was worried. I think everyone was. Still are. I don't know anything about the Phoenix, but you can talk to us, and let us know what's going on no matter how crazy it sounds."
Michael nodded in understanding. "Vanessa said the same thing. And you're right. I was trying to deal with it on my own. Just like finding Dr. Cain. But I'll rely on you guys more...I feel comfortable with it now."
"That's good, Mike," Dan said. "I can tell that in the short time you've been enrolled at Xavier's, you've grown."
Michael replied, "Well, growing isn't always easy."
"No one ever said it was, but that's what we're here to do—learn and grow," Paige said.
"Well, now that we've officially turned this into an after-school special..." Ethan joked, breaking the serious overtones of the conversation.
"Aye. I dinnae think it will be long before we hear back from the X-Men. Ah'm also waitin' for Everett's report. Hopefully, they were able t' find Rich Cale. He'd probably have some o' th' answers we're lookin' fer in terms of Emplate."
"How do you think this will turn out?" Kiana asked.
"Ah can only hope fer th' best," Sean said, though his gut told him that things would get worse. Much worse. He kept his trepidation hidden and punctuated his statement with a reassuring smile. But his students were smart, though they believed his sincere words, he could see it in their eyes—they knew that things were about to go very wrong.
Notes:
Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional
The reference to Agent Noah Bishop (no relation to Lucas Bishop of the X-Men) and the team of mind specialists refers to the series written by Kay Hooper. Consider it a mini-crossover!
Richard Cale and Grimore are characters created by Richard B. Sampson Jr., who has work posted as well. They are used with permission