Chapter Three: It Begins
The thirst for battle charged the atmosphere of the lair, and as the Brotherhood readied themselves they indulged in the easy atmosphere. They seemed to become more jovial as the promise of death and bloodshed grew near, and it had been a long while since any of them had inflicted violence upon unsuspecting people.
Toad donned his newest and best battle gear: slightly baggy, tattered black pants that allowed for his wide degree of movement, and a tight black shirt. He took his new inventions- gauntlets of leather in many places for protection lest he be struck, fingerless black gloves with cruel spikes of metal embedded in the knuckles- and donned with them a wicked smile. The slight twinge of remorse that he had once felt when preparing for a deed such as this had receded so deeply inside of him that he felt nothing. It was as thought Jacob's death had created a callus upon his soul.
Mystique had noticed this. She had been, by nature, rather unaffected by the boy's fatal plunge, and her feelings had gone beneath the surface, but were not entirely gone. She regretted what Toad had become, and as she readied the transmitters she could not help but steal a glance at him, noticing him touch the points of the spikes he had put in his gloves and grin as though he already saw the blood upon them. She frowned deeply, but then Sabretooth swept into the room, stimulated by anticipation, and the feelings were gone as suddenly as he had come.
The huge, felinoid mutant donned no special gear, but rather opted for his furs as he always did. They manifested his carnality to the point that if he wore anything else he wouldn't feel his full feral self. He growled into the open air, which bore the sound aloft to the very peaks of the roof and sent the doves flapping in alarm.
" You ready yet?" he asked Mystique, who nodded curtly, stood, and handed out the transmitters. As Toad took his he caught her eye, sharing a long look that spoke volumes, even in Toad's eyes, where something flickered deep within that only Mystique could have noticed and understood. They always seemed to do this at times like these: in the gaze was the acknowledgement that one or both of their deaths were entirely possible in the dark and screaming hours to come. It was a silent goodbye.
Victor pushed between them, growling, "Lets go." Mystique and Toad, whose nameless projection had submerged again, broke their gaze and followed wordlessly. No words were needed.
* * *
Magneto sat within his chambers, his Brotherhood having left only a half-hour before. A smile crossed his stately features as he thought of how Charles would react to the news, and hoped despite his confidence that the Xavier would take the bait. Revenge was the only thing on his agenda now: no extravagant plots to turn everyone into mutants- this had been tried, and a new and better plan was in order. But not now. Now it was simple and full retaliation that he wanted, for the defeat of his Brotherhood had weakened them somewhat, or so it seemed to him. The humiliation and powerlessness he had felt while trapped in that accursed plastic prison would not be forgotten. It had been more than a year since his escape, and the time was right to strike. In the months following his freedom, Eric knew that Charles and his X-Men would be looking closely for him, utterly prepared lest he emerge again. But now they had most likely resigned themselves to assuming that he was deep in hiding, forming another elaborate plan to conquer all of humankind in favor of mutants.
The dark rage that had fermented within him had not waned with the event of his freedom, but rather grew stronger and deeper as he mulled over it in the presence of his Brotherhood. They had seen him, their all-powerful leader, defeated and at the mercy of so many ignorant fools- the sideshow in a plastic box. Surely this had done nothing to polish his reputation and standing among them. This, in his mind, was a crime that could not go unpunished. So he formulated a simple but brutally effective plan:
Draw the X-Men out into the open, where they could be distracted whilst Eric and his chosen few carried out the real mission: a deadly attack on the academy, full of the children Charles so dearly loved.
All respect and feeling that he had once had for Xavier was gone now, for this was a war of revenge, and it would be Eric Magnus Lenscherr that would deal the killing blow.
* * *
Toad and Sabretooth waited inside the car with the heavily tinted windows, watching the back entrance of the building in question. Toad sat patiently, busy pushing away his turgid thoughts, while Sabretooth set about shredding the seat cushions in high bad temper at the wait. His musky feline scent was thick in the car because of his activity, and Toad wished vainly that he could crack the window even a little bit, but the event of his being noticed was far too great a risk to take.
" Why won't she hurry the hell up?" Sabretooth hissed suddenly, shattering the near silence within the car. The tearing sounds increased, and Toad turned to the back seat irritably.
" Will you settle down? You're annoying the fuck out of me," he gritted. Sabretooth showed his great teeth but made no reply.
The transmitter beeped suddenly, and Mystique's hushed voice filled the stuffy car.
" All is ready. Time to make your entrance."