Toad watched Mystique slink back into the shadows. She had told him to wait for her signal until they went any further with the mission. The next couple steps had to be fast or they would fail yet again.

Mortimer had given up all hope of reclaiming his body. Toad had overwhelmed him and had possession of their actions now; there was nothing Mortimer could do. Toad was stronger, more ruthless and cruel. Mort just wanted to be free.

And where do thoughts like that get you?

The voice penetrated Mortimer's tightly pressed ears. He couldn't stand the way Toad mocked and condescended him, but there was nothing that he could do. Or was there?

Mystique silently traversed across the Xavier grounds without raising an alarm. She glanced around with her golden eyes and wondered just how she was going to get to Jean Grey without being caught. 'But I'm the Master of Disguise,' she thought wickedly. And in no more than a moment, her blue-scaled body peeled away and revealed a new form. No longer was she the annoying Kitty Pryde; that disguise proved to have been wasted. The shape shifter wouldn't get anywhere without a confrontation.

Thinking that this new disguise was as perfect as it could be, Mystique made her way toward the mansion and opened the front door.

Toad crouched in the darkness, clutching the tiny silver com-device in his gloved hand. He waited impatiently as Mystique strode toward the manor in her new disguise. A lingering sense of doubt crossed his mind momentarily.

This will not work! The Wolverine is here. He'll find out for sure!

"Stop your bloody whinin'," Toad shot back. "That queen won't even know we're here. Mystique'll kill the woman, take her place, lead the girl into some secluded area while I run a distraction, and our mission will be complete."

Toad spoke with conviction of such magnitude that Mortimer thought it was impossible. How could he be so confident? Mort shook his head internally. He knew as soon as the girl, Rogue, was captured, he had to kill her. Not Toad, not Mystique, Him. This would prove that he was a part of the Brotherhood! This would finally decide his fate as a mutant!

This one act would destroy him.

Scott Summers walked leisurely down the comfortably lit hallways and smiled at the children as they passed him by. He was in search of his fiancé, Jean.

Still grinning from ear to ear, Scott finally found the door to her classroom and pushed it open. He had found who he was looking for.

"Hey, beautiful," he said to the redhead. He watched her look up at him with her piercing eyes, which danced with love as she gazed at him. "Scott," she almost whispered, "I missed you today! I hardly got to see you at all." Her last statement rose in audibility. Scott moved closer.

"I want us to do something. Just us. I want to take you somewhere romantic where we can be alone." He started to kiss her neck slowly and he felt her face go beet red.

"Scott," she laughed, "what on earth are you talking about? You know we have to stay at the school and teach... the children need us." She stroked his cheek affectionately as the expression on his face became one of disappointment.

"Don't worry," she continued, "We'll be married soon and nothing is going to stop that." She smiled at him as he showed his pearly whites. But then a tremendous pain claimed her and she whisked her hands to the sharpness that beat against her temples. Something was wrong. She had felt it with Kitty too but... what did it mean?

'There's nothing to worry about,' she thought with a sigh, 'Scott is here and he would never let anything happen to me.'

Then curiosity claimed her as her headache subsided. "Where were you planning for us to go, Scott?" A broad grin spread across her lovers face as the question flew from her mouth. He bent closer to her ear and nuzzled her neck for a moment.

That sudden sense of danger...

"To Hell, my sweet. To Hell."

Jean's mind screamed at her to defend herself, but her attacker was much too quick. A treacherous feeling of pain washed over her as she felt her eyes being stabbed at. Blood ran down her rosy cheeks in crooked, crimson lines as her eye sockets were forced to separate from the rest of her body. She could not see the blood, but she felt it cascade down her face to her neck, then run its course over her chest where it stained her beige shirt.

This was what she had felt. This was the danger that she could not foresee. She had ignored her premonitions and had walked blindly into a trap.

Jean tried to scream, but the same sharp dagger that had wretched out her eyes immediately punctured her delicate throat. No sound would ever come from her vocal cords ever again.

'Although, dead people don't talk anyway,' Mystique chortled.

Hastily, she finished her duty and shoved the bleeding woman underneath the desk. The entire floor beneath the fresh corpse was dark red and the puddle crept farther and farther outward. The shape shifter chuckled to herself for a moment and then let her body phase into Jean Grey's. Nonchalantly, she picked up the com-device and pressed the small black button.