Chapter Six: Faces
The evening fell and dispersed the storm, leaving the night as calm as a millpond. The creatures that had been frightened of the lightning chanced to venture out again, and soon their fears were allayed and their cries rang out through the night, illuminating the darkness with life. The tiny pinprick stars winked in the velveteen canopy of the sky, and the full disk of the moon shimmered upon the water, as black as spilled ink.
In his office Magneto sat thinking, not only of his plan but of his Brotherhood and life in general. He wondered if Sabretooth, Mystique, and Toad were happy with his ruling, with the assignments he ordered them to carry out. Did they agree with his plans, or simply follow them with resignation? He questioned the strength of their devotion, as any leader is wont to do. But there were other, more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Now was not the time to be questioning one's faith.
His next attack would be in a week exactly, when he would send Sabretooth to create a diversion. The feral mutant was good at that, and was very likely to be able to successfully escape before he could be captured or eliminated by the X-Men. While their attention was elsewhere, he, Mystique, and Toad would enter the academy. From there, it was death and destruction, as much as possible, to strike the sword deep into Charles' heart. Eric secretly hoped that Sabretooth might be able to take a couple of the X-Men down for good measure, but he didn't want to expect too much. Doing so would be foolish.
Magneto allowed himself a thin smile and began his preparations.
* * *
Toad woke from his even slumber, wrenched from his dreams by something urgent- a feeling, a presence. He opened his eyes cautiously, not moving, and looked around him warily. He could see nothing, smell nothing, as though no one were there. But he could have sworn just then that something had been wanting his attention…
He shimmied on his belly to the edge of the ledge, peering out all round him, all the way to the other side of the room. The moonlight filtered through in long, spectral shafts that shimmered upon the waters in the cave. In the silver light Toad could see to luminescence shining off the iridescent backs of fish, which swam slowly and lazily, knowing no natural enemies within the shelter of the island.
He could see the shape of his face in the water, strangely illuminated, and as he bent closer to study it he noticed with sock that the features were not his own. Staring up at him with piercing, unearthly eyes, was the face of a young boy, pallid as death but smiling gently.
Toad fell back from where he had been crouching with a strangled gasp of shock.
Jacob!
He whirled round to look behind him, but he was alone on the ledge, and as he rushed forward to the water again it was only his own reflection staring wild eyed back at him. The feeling had faded; the cavern was calm and still.
Alone again.
* * *
That night Toynbee dreamed of blood.
He dreamed of what he had done, and of the glee he had taken from it. He saw the scene played out for him like a film: he saw Sabretooth ripping flesh and shattering bones, drenched in blood, himself very much the same way, a grin of feral delight stamped upon his face as a young boy fell to his wrath. Probably just dragged to this meeting by his parents, Toad thought in hindsight, flinching away from his guilt. He saw Mystique shoved out of the way as he rushed past her, saw the confused and slightly hurt look on her beautiful features. He remembered the ride back on the helicopter, being so drenched on blood that the controls and were stained, while Sabretooth licked the gore from the battle off of his own flesh in the back, Mystique silent, eyes on the horizon, jaw set grimly. The shred of flesh on the spikes of his right glove. Sabretooth eyeing it and grinning broadly, striking him on the back in high good spirits. He saw the face of Jacob the night he died, and just hours before, reflected in the water.
Toad woke just before dawn, as the fist of the birds began to stir, and sat upon the rocks by the shoreline to think. He remained there for a very long time.