I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.
- Revelation 22:13
EPILOGUE
The laboratory was not a laboratory in the strictest sense of the word. Certainly, it housed experiments and equipment, but it also served as a library of sorts, holding the accumulated data and... other memorabilia... of a long lifetime of research.
The polished metal walls had seen much darkness over the years. They had seen what some would call the face of evil itself, but never had they seen the scourge which appeared now within their confines, silent as a desert breeze. That was only understandable, as no one - save a battered handful of mutants - had seen him for nearly two thousand years.
"Ah, my prodigal servant," the deep voice said. "And who are you scheming to betray now?"
The man who had once been Dr. Nathaniel Essex prided himself on never being surprised. When one dealt in such delicate and elaborate machinations as he did, it was imperative that one anticipate every possibility, no matter how remote. Nonetheless, this visit caught him completely off-guard.
He started and spun around, the papers in his white hands cascading to the tiled floor. "En Sabah Nur -!"
From a mere meter away, the massive being gave off the distinct scent of time and death - two things Essex was familiar with, if not enamored of. "Call me Apocalypse. It was you, after all, who suggested the name."
"Indeed." He was thoroughly unsettled, but he wasn't about to show it, and he turned his back on the looming monstrosity. "Lovely to meet you in person, after all these years."
"Indeed," Apocalypse said, deliberately mocking. "I see you have not squandered my gifts, tinkerer, although there is a noticeable lack of that which you promised me."
"I don't have time to build your little army. My work is more important-" he started to say, but was cut off as thick blue fingers wrapped around his throat.
Apocalypse lifted him from his feet easily and brought him within inches of his own face. "By my will alone were you given the chance to conduct your work, Essex; by my will alone do you survive this encounter today! DO NOT FORGET IT!" he thundered, and tossed Essex away.
The scientist landed at the foot of a row of specimen cages, jarring them and setting the specimens - in this instance, Rhesus monkeys - to screeching and howling. One glare from his blood-red eyes and the creatures quieted immediately, withdrawing into the far corners of their cages. He stood and straightened his black outfit, irritated at Apocalypse but not intending to do anything. Such petty displays of power were a tedious yet necessary requirement of tyrants, he had learned, and it was beneath his dignity to rage in response.
"Tell me, Essex, in all your research these hundred years, have you heard of a band of mutant pests called the X-Men?" Apocalypse asked calmly, arms folded behind his back in a military posture.
It was a foolish question at best. Essex was keeping a very close eye on two of them - remarkable specimens who would one day lead to the culmination of those hundred years of research. "Perhaps. I'll have to check my files."
"I had hoped to use them as the first soldiers in my 'little army,' " the ancient mutant went on. He picked up a sheaf of papers in one massive hand and glanced at them with a disinterested expression. "Instead, I will crush their rotting skulls beneath my heel."
Essex, always a master at reading between the lines, allowed his mouth to curl in a half-smirk while storing the information for a later date. "Ah, but if they defeated you, then your own rules declare them fit for survival, do they not?"
Apocalypse dropped the papers and gave his wayward servant a burning, narrowed-eyed glare, much reminiscent of the glare Essex had just given the monkeys; he found the implication... displeasing. "The years have not softened your insolent tongue, Essex. I should have enslaved your mind at the first."
"I have failsafes in place now," Essex said, with such casualness that the threat showed plainly. "Alter my psi print in any way, and... well, you'll see."
Apocalypse made a noise that might have been a growl in someone less imposing. "You will begin to build my army immediately."
Essex waved him off and risked turning his back on the mutant again. "As I explained to you a century ago, it is not that simple. I have the technology now, true. But I continue to lack the subjects."
"Find them."
Inwardly, Essex seethed. It didn't help that he knew precisely where a large population of mutants - some with true potential - could be found. The colony had been founded by another like himself, a geneticist who had unfortunately been less proficient in deceit. With his
"colleague" disposed of, he'd been hoping to keep the colony for future experiments, but now his hand had been forced. Failsafes or not, Apocalypse could ferret out the information; it was far easier, not to mention safer, to cooperate with the tyrant.
For the moment. Only for the moment. Yes, Essex decided, this would do very nicely as a temporary arrangement. The true victor used chance opportunities to his advantage, after all, and Apocalypse's ridiculous demand provided a veritable fountain of such opportunities.
He turned around, hands clasped behind his back with an air of defeat. "I owe you that much, I suppose. Any... special requests?"
Apocalypse stared past him, at some vision only a mad Egyptian god could see, and said, "The tales you told of that tome called 'Bible' have always intrigued me. Create for me the Four Horsemen."
"As you wish, my dread lord," Essex said, bowing slightly from the waist as once he had bowed before the upper echelons of Victorian London - and as in the past, the bow served to hide his distaste at humbling himself before an inferior. When he rose, Apocalypse was gone.
Essex flicked an imaginary bit of dust from his gleaming black outfit, thinking, and made his way out of the laboratory. To raid the Morlock colony and retrieve the desired mutants, he would need proper hunters. Perhaps one of his former associates from that laughable Weapon X program could supply him with a killer or five... and there was the small matter of creating an alias for himself - something appropriately sinister...
END EPILOGUE
Note: Well, that was it! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it... well, except for the parts where I was tearing my hair out. Bonus points if you spotted all the references to the comic books (like Gambit's first appearance - UXM #266, taking place in Cairo, IL).
Last but not least, here's the part where I thank people, starting with: everyone who reviewed this - feedback is the stuff of gods, truly, and I greatly appreciate all of your comments. Y'all are the best!
And, of course, a special thanks goes to Alhazred for many things: writing a splendid Apocalypse fic, "Walpurgis Night," that also manages to make fun of nearly every fic convention there is; and the boundless support, enthusiasm, writerly commiseration, and sparkling conversation that helped me finish this darn thing. Oh, and 'SotS'. :)