The second of the two chapters promised. Anyway, this one is a more rounded
one, as well as one that serves to bring this fic closer to the AoA. (I did
notice that this fic was very different from the actual one. It was
supposed to be different, but not too much. It is a redux, not a completely
different thing. Well I suppose Xavier not being dead at the start was VERY
different. Ahh. Who cares. Lets just say I got influenced a bit more by the
actual AoA.)
*~*
New Beginnings
Sabretooth stood in front of the abandoned warehouse. He knew who resided inside the building. He had followed the scent for a while now. This was not going to be easy. However he knew that it was something that needed to be done. He snarled slightly. The inhumans chasing after him had done their job well, though it was had not been good enough to stop Sabretooth. His healing factor had saved his hide. However it had been a close thing. If there had been more, or one of them had managed to avoid his claws, he would be dead by now. As it was he still limped slightly, and some wounds had not closed completely. The inhumans would be back, and as much as he would have liked to let the runt deal with them, he knew that he would have to lay old enmities aside to even have a hope of standing against Apocalypse. His foray into the Tower with Juggernaut had proved that he was not as strong as he would have liked to believe. He knew his limitations, he wasn't the brightest light on the block, but he wasn't completely stupid either. He braced himself and walked into the building.
x----------------- ------------x
Magneto stood in front of the monitor bank built into the wall. He and Charles had designed and built a lot of these small hideouts in America. They would be virtually undetectable by Apocalypse and his forces. However Apocalypses security devices had taken sudden bounds. The Sea Wall had begun expanding according to Emma and Moira, and their radar seemed to be far more advanced. They had picked up the bio signature of a mutant hundreds of kilometers away, whereas the X-men's apparatus had only picked it up when they were far closer. The mutant had been very low on energy as well. To distinguish him from a human would have been difficult unless close enough.
All of the monitors showed different things. One showed a map of the world, shaded in different colors. Dark blue showed regions Apocalypse controlled. White showed destroyed areas such as South America, France and the southern part of Africa. Green showed all Human high Council areas while yellow showed all X-men safe areas. Another monitor showed the Sea Wall defense perimeter, and another the known Death Camps. Magneto's attention was directed toward the one showing the Death Camps. That was what he needed to stop. The Death Camps were of all Apocalypses' crimes the most heinous in Magneto's eyes.
As he pondered over how to strike at them next an alarm sounded. An intruder was in the building. Magneto turned to the monitor that would show him who it was. It was most likely a human or group of humans who had stumbled onto the warehouse. While the streets of this town were mostly deserted, some humans still remained. When he saw the figure on the monitor Magneto's eyes widened. He heard a snarl behind him and saw Weapon X staring at the monitor with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, his lips curled back. He put a hand on his shoulder and the feral seemed to calm down.
"Sabretooth. He's mine Erik."
Magneto watched Wolverine unsheathe his claws. He knew of their enmity and he knew that if he tried to stop Weapon X, he would go ahead and do what he wanted anyway.
"By all means, Logan. Take care of him, but Jean and I are coming as well." The telepath had mentally contacted him when she heard the alarm and she was already on her way down from the room where she was tending Piotr with Kitty.
Weapon X walked out of the room. To Magneto it was clear that he was holding his rage in check. He knew that Weapon X and Sabretooth had not completed their fight when they fought in the Tower, and that perhaps it would end now. He knew that it would be necessary to put down Sabretooth.
x----------------- ------------x
Logan knew why Erik and Jean were coming with him. To make sure he didn't give into his rage and destroy everything around him. He walked into the main hallway of the warehouse. Creed stood in the centre of the room, a large imposing figure in a duster much like Remy's. However while Remy's was brown, his was black. His head was bent and his eyes glowed slightly in the dark. Logan knew Creed was looking straight at him.
"Long time no see bub. Ya ready ter finish this?"
Creed looked at him, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"I'm not here ta fight runt. I'm here ta talk."
Logan's eyes widened slightly. Talk? Creed? Ha!
"Well I'm ready ta talk ya piece of shit. Let's finish this!"
He unsheathed two claws on the side longer than the one in the middle and leapt forward. Creed met his attack and grabbed his hand. Not what Logan expected, he had thought Creed would have tried to claw at him, or tried to grapple with him, not to grab his hand defensively. Creed and defensive didn't click. Snarling he tried to pull his hand back, but Creed was stronger in terms of physical strength. However Logan knew a lot of tricks. He brought his leg up to knee Creed, but Creed blocked that as well. He couldn't block his other leg though, and Creed staggered back as Logan's boot caught him on his chest. Logan swung his metal stub at Creed. Creed ducked back, his fangs bared in a snarl.
"Dammit Logan I don't want to fight!"
It was Creed's usage of his name that caused Logan to pause in his attack. From behind him he could hear the sounds of Jean and Erik entering the room. Creed stood a few paces in front of him, his eyes wary, shoulders heaving as he drew breath. He stood in a guarded pose, ready to block any attack on Logan's part. Logan had never seen Creed act in this manner. Logan backed off, putting his hands down, but remaining ready just in case Creed decided to attack.
"What do you want, Sabretooth?" Erik stood in front of the door he had come from. His posture and tone was menacing.
Creed looked at Erik, though he kept an eye on Logan.
"I've actually come in peace Magneto. Apocalypse ain't the kind of mutant it's wise to go up against alone. I found that out the hard way."
Logan looked as Jean gave a nearly imperceptible nod of the head to Erik. His jaw nearly dropped open. Creed was telling the truth. He was completely sincere in the reason he gave for coming here. Logan drew back his claws. He began walking towards the door. He turned just before leaving.
"This team seems to be going to the dogs. First Cyclops, now Creed. What next? Maybe Holocaust an' Sinister will be having a cup of tea with us tomorrow." The last was said with a snarl before Logan turned and walked out of the large room, leaving Creed, Erik and Jean alone.
x----------------- ------------x
He had lost track of time. He had been in this room for a very long time now, from what he could judge over six hours had passed since he had first been locked in here. He felt around the room, looking for any way out, or any weakness in the structure. This was the sixth time he was doing this since he was put here. He couldn't use his powers to any effect on the walls as it had had no effect. His most powerful blast had merely warmed the room considerably. Scott wasn't using his powers anymore. Since they were fairly useless he wanted to conserve as much energy as possible for any fights once he left this prison. He had considered the possibility that he might not escape, but had dismissed that possibility. For to think that would mean to lose hope, and that meant the battle was lost already. Scott did not intend on staying here. He would break free sooner or later.
Finding nothing but the same smooth surface again, Scott sank onto his knees, trying to figure out another way out.
That had been an hour ago. Now he was walking along a hallway, lined with paintings of different men and women, however Scott recognized them all. They weren't just men and women. They weren't even just humans. The walls were lined with pictures of Externals. Scott looked at them almost idly; however his mind was checking each portrait to see if they could provide any insight on the owner of these pictures. The first one was of Absolom, a powerful mutant who had been in the Hellfire Club, albeit as an inactive member. He had been killed by Archanfel when the Hellfire Cub had been destroyed. The next was Saul, a powerful mutant and mystic sorcerer from the Far East, as well as one of the White Rooks. He had been killed by Apocalypse when Apocalypse had thrown a building on the Hellfire Club. The next picture, next to Absolom portrayed Gideon, a large external. He had been killed before Apocalypse had assaulted the Hellfire Club. Next was Necodemus, a benevolent looking mutant, he had been the other White Rook. He had been killed along with Saul. The next picture showed a tall and slim woman. She had a disdainful look on her coldly beautiful features. It was Galaire, one of those who had captured him. A little ahead was a picture of Burke, another External. Scott had no idea what had happened to him, except that he too was dead. A huge, powerfully built brutish man stood in the next picture. It was Astaroth, another renegade who Scott had been captured by. Archanfel stood in the next picture and beyond that one was Exodus. Asmodeus was sitting in a chair in the next picture. He looked younger in the picture, his hair only slightly wispy. He was the only External Scott had seen who looked even slightly over middle aged. A voluptuous woman stood in the next picture. Incongruously Behamen was sticking her tongue out in the portrait. Gilgamesh stood in the last picture in the hall. As Scott turned the corner though he saw a few more portraits. The first was of Candra, and opposite that was of another woman, though she was perhaps the most beautiful Scott had ever seen. Selene had been the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, and had gone one on one against Apocalypse after he had destroyed the building. Apocalypse had been impressed by her abilities. The next two pictures were of Sammael and the man dressed in black who had been in his nightmares and in the hallway he had tried to escape from. Beyond those pictures were double doors. Above the double doors was the largest portrait, of a tall man, who was balding. The man stood with a scepter in his hand. Scott didn't know who that one was; perhaps he would be meeting him beyond the doors.
The doors opened and Scott found himself in a large chamber. On one side was a seating space for five people. The other side had a large monitor bank. Directly opposite the doors he had entered were steps leading up to a throne-like chair. The man in black sat in the throne. He looked amused for some reason.
"Ah, finally. I trust the accomodation was to your liking Mr. Summers?"
Scott looked up at him with a frown.
"Actually, it wasn't."
The man in black smiled. It was fairly reasonable to assume he was an External, perhaps the leader of these renegade Externals.
"I apologize about that, it was necessary to detain you. Once I tell you, you will understand why we had to keep you here to talk to us."
"I'll understand better once you tell me your name."
The man seemed amused again. The smile on his face didn't reach his eyes however.
"I am called Nidlen Halfbane."
Scott looked at him. Was he supposed to be impressed by the name? Halfbane's eyes narrowed when he saw the lack of reaction from Scott. He banged his scepter on the ground and a door by the smaller throne-like chairs on the side opened. The renegade External's walked in, eyes on Scott. This Halfbane did lead the Externals. The Externals took their seats. As Scott watched Behamen smiled coyly at him. His eyes narrowed slightly. It would be wise not to underestimate a woman like her. She would act playful, but would kill you without a second thought. He knew each of the Externals powers, it had been necessary as High-Prelate to know that, but their personalities were something that Sinister had drilled him on. Scott wondered why Sinister's portrait hadn't been outside. Or Holocausts for that matter. He brushed the thought aside; it was no use worrying over something else when a problem was facing him at the moment. Even though he had hidden any feelings from his face and posture, as he had been trained to do, he was impressed, and a nugget of fear was lodged in his heart. Facing five Externals' who had every reason to bear him enmity, and a man who seemed to lead them, who impressed Scott with his very presence, which dominated the room. Halfbane leaned back in his throne, watching Scott carefully. Scott stared back impassively, refusing to react before Halfbane did.
"So, Scott Summers, have you any clue as to why I had you brought here?"
Scott stared at him, then his lip curled slightly in irritation.
"If I knew that, you wouldn't ask me."
Halfbane smiled slightly, then his face became expressionless again.
"So, you have some spirit, that is good. For what you have ahead of you, you will need a strong backbone."
Scott's eye's narrowed below his glasses, but he wasn't about to let his adversary, for that is what Scott knew him to be, see any expression on his face.
"I am sure there was a point to your calling me before you."
"I wish you to do something for me."
Scott stood waiting for him to continue.
"It entails some danger, however someone of your abilities should be able to handle it with relative ease. The job will be well suited to you. In return I will help rid you of any unpleasant dreams."
Scott's eye's widened considerably. This man was the man in his dream, who had woken him up. Who was he?
"You have told me nothing about yourself. I don't deal with people I cannot trust."
Halfbane chuckled softly. His mouth twitched slightly and then he stood up. If Scott had thought his presence was dominating when he sat, it increased tenfold now.
"All you need to know is my name, Nidlen Halfbane, eldest among the living Externals, barring one. I am the shaper of a hundred destinies, the one- time wielder of the great sword 'Anolith', the power behind countless thrones in the past. I am also the brother of the dreadlord Kar' Toman Selavayne, Sammael as he is known now."
The last dropped Scott's jaw. This man was a brother of Sammael's? That might have explained Sammael's obsession with finding the renegade External's, but not his desire to kill them all.
Unless they had had a falling out.
"You. are Sammael's brother?"
Halfbane looked at him.
"Yes, half-brother actually. We had the same mother. Do not look so shocked Scott Summers. There is very little love lost between us two, and it has always been so. Since either of us were born. It has been so long since that time that I do not even remember my exact age, or which of us is the elder. However, that is all irrelevant. What matter's is whether you will agree to do this job for me?"
Scott stared at the External, his brain absorbing all the information he had just received.
"What job? I mean what it entails. Even if I were to accept it, I would know what I must do beforehand."
Halfbane sat down in his chair before answering, and even that he first ran his hands through his hair before answering.
"Apocalypse moves even as we speak, his forces are rallying around him. His horsemen already roam the world, ready to strike. His armies of Infinites are too many, the processing plants churning out too many for the Human High Council or even the X-men to combat. His Reavers are massing in the Sea Walls, ready for battle. The mutant units and his human armies garrison in his strongholds. His lieutenants are ready to lead, with the mutant elite force under them. The kill-droids designed by Dark-Beast and Sinister are protecting his Tower. His death camps are always there for his culling and to provide him extra energy. Your old master is poised to take over the world, and only one person can help in stopping him. I need to find Destiny."
Scott Summers looked at him, then burst out laughing.
"Do you find something funny, Mr. Summers?" Halfbane's voice was cold.
Scott wheezed slightly and then looked at the External again. The other Externals merely sat and watched.
"Destiny cannot be found, not unless she wishes to be found. Besides, unless I miss my guess, she must be dead a few years now."
Halfbane smiled again, a cold mocking smile.
"Your guess is wrong Cyclops. She lives, in Avalon, refuge for the broken and desperate. I only it is in Antarctica. In a land untouched by the frigid temperature of the rest of the continent. All I know is that she is there. I do not know exactly where it is, but once you reach there, she will find you."
Scott watched the Externals eyes carefully. He had to be certain that he wasn't insane.
"If this is so important, why don't you do it yourself, or send one of your lackeys." He nodded his head towards the Externals. Galaire looked at him coldly, Asmodeus frowned, Astaroth growled, Behamen snarled and Gilgamesh crossed his arms and leaned back.
Halfbane smiled again, looking at them.
"No, they all won't be going with you. Only Galaire, for her control over the water and ice. It will be helpful in Antarctica, after all I won't want you dying before she manages to find you. Apart from that, if I send an External Destiny won't be able to detect them. We all have some natural protection against that sort of tacking."
Galaire did not look happy. Scott contemplated what Halfbane said for a few minutes. If he went, he would get what he wanted, time to think about his life. Also he would be able to meet Destiny. Also if Halfbane was not exaggerating about Apocalypse, then if she could be useful, he would help them. He couldn't trust them, but if they managed to take down Apocalypse, then it would be better for the world in general. He would have to make sure that they didn't take over too much power, otherwise it would just be another conquest. He could tell enough that all of the Externals in this room were power hungry mutants, heartless and serving only themselves. It was no matter. Scott knew his duty, and he would do it. Besides, he would be rid of hjis irritating dreams.
"I'll do it. However I lead between myself and Galaire, and I'll want a small team with me as well."
Halfbane smiled.
"Don't worry, you will lead the team, as long as you follow all the instruction I now give. Galaire will not precisely follow you; however she will go with you. In battle you will be the field leader. I will send a few people with you, none mutant though. It will not matter. I doubt you will come across too much trouble. Another thing. You must bring Destiny back with you, within a week of your arriving at Avalon."
Scott nodded, then turned to leave. As he reached the door he turned to all of the Externals, looking at them slowly and carefully.
"Know this; I am no one's servant. Apart from that, I want a better room."
Halfbane nodded. Scott left the room.
"A very dangerous young man. He has a strong will. He is a good choice. I would never have expected him to leave Essex. It shows he cannot be pushed. Perhaps he will help us bring down Apocalypse." Asmodeus stood and walked to the corner of the room, where a bookshelf stood. He took one out and began to idly go through it.
The other Externals rose as well, Gilgamesh and Astaroth conversing quietly. Behamen looked slightly put out with Asmodeus's comment. However Galaire walked up to Halfbane.
"What do you mean in letting him have command? I follow no mere mutant. Even an alpha class one like him. It is beneath me."
Halfbane rose to his full height, looking down at her from his elevated position. His brows drew together in a scowl.
"However you do follow me. Hence if I tell you to follow his command, you will obey me." His voice was icily calm; his face however scowled down at her. AS he spoke Galaire was lifted off the ground. He brought her to him, and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I am confident you will manage to sway him to your way of thinking. You are clever, and you are powerful enough for him not to confront you when you make an issue. You also know that once Destiny is found, you will take charge, and bring both him and her back."
Asmodeus turned around, and looked up from the book he was reading.
"It would not be wise to underestimate him. He is a very dangerous mutant. Offhand I can only think of a few who are as dangerous, Weapon X, Magneto, the deceased Xavier, Mikhail Rasputin, Juggernaut, there aren't many more. He has nearly as much sheer power as Magneto, enhanced by those gauntlet's if I am any guess, as well as being nearly as dangerous in hand to hand combat as Weapon X. That combination puts him at their level at least. Only the External's, Sinister, Holocaust and Apocalypse are more dangerous. Oh and his horsemen of course. There is only one more mutant that is potentially more dangerous than all of those as well. Rogue. She can already fly, has massive strength, speed and is nigh-invulnerable. She can also manipulate magnetic fields, though to a much lesser extent than Magneto or Polaris. She only has to touch a mutant or even a super-powered individual to win any fight. If she can be captured she could be used to take out all our enemies. Experimenting in the right ways. hmm, Only Essex could carry out such a-"
"Enough babbling. You are getting off topic Argorion. What exactly is the point of telling me all of this?" Halfbane had sat in his throne again while Asmodeus spoke.
The other Externals' watched him, Galaire with open cynical amusement, Behamen with a wry grin tugging at her lips; she had always found his rambling adorable. Gilgamesh ignored him, while Astaroth shook his head.
Asmodeus blinked twice then shook his head.
"Old age is getting to me."
This prompted laughs from all the others, except Gilgamesh. Asmodeus watched him, without taking his eyes off the others in the room. Gilgamesh wasn't fooled by his vague manner. Neither was Halfbane. Well perhaps Gilgamesh had no sense of humor, but Halfbane had known Asmodeus's tricks before his... rest, and he knew that Asmodeus wasn't as lost as he sometimes appeared.
"My point was that we have no idea why Cyclops left the Tower. It is fairly certain that he is now their enemy, but not completely certain. No I am worried because we know too little about his motivations to be sure he will complete the task we have given him, or whether he is just a precursor to an attack by Sammael."
Halfbane scowled at the mention of his brother than seemed to shake of the dark mood that had come upon him.
"It is no matter. We shall leave here anyway. Only Galaire knows where to come and if Cyclops makes too much trouble he is to be put down. Do not worry yourself Asmodeus. It is unlikely he will renege on his word. He is the Tower's enemy, and he will help us as far as he is able. Beyond that.."
He shrugged.
Logan sat in the rain, water pouring down on him. He knew that he should probably get out of the rain, but at the moment he didn't really give a damn.
"Yeah, caknucklehead, life's a bitch; you oughta know that by now."
He crouched under a tattered tarpaulin that only gave him marginal cover from the rain. To him the rain was a symbol of the shit that his life had digressed into. He couldn't really remember his early years, only from a few years before he met Charles Xavier. Weapon X was the last thing he remembered, the days a while after he got adamantium put into him by some bastard government agency. He couldn't remember the procedure or what government agency it had been. Pretty much the only thing he remembered was the codename given to him and meeting Xavier. After a few years everything seemed to have been shot to hell. He had been leading a team to attack a death camp, when an ambush had been sprung on them, courtesy of a traitor, Guido. He had managed to survive, as had the rest of his team, barring two. Guido and Phoenix I, one of Jean's friends had been killed in the attack by the prelates. Logan had taken the death personally, and when Jean had joined the team a few years later, he had at first tried to apologize to her about her friend. She had brushed it off, but Logan could see that she had been at the edge of despair. He had helped her out of her black mood, helping to get over her pain of losing much of her family and friends in the war, as well as another boy, who Sinister had killed. He had come to love Jean, but she was much younger than him and he didn't want to hurt her in any way. Then she had seduced him, Logan still remembered that day.
^ Logan sat outside the X-mansion, cleaning his hands, after doing a thorough check on his old Dina Wynne Glyde. There were only two things he cared for deeply these days, Jean and his motorbike. He was loyal to the X- men, but Jean came first, and the motorbike was his only possession. He had found it abandoned and had restored it. He sat back, drying his hands on a cloth. Jean had been acting funny that whole day, staring at him until he thought maybe there was something on his face, and kept on giving him strange looks as though she had something stuck in her ass and was trying to act the other way. He had to hand it to her, she could make him laugh. He had single handedly rescued her from a depression and he was proud of that, and of her. She was getting tougher, though he didn't want her to become too cynical and hard, not like himself. He hoped she would retain some of her innocence and sweetness. He doubted that was possible in a world where Apocalypse ruled, but he hoped anyway.
He put the cloth away and began walking up to his room. It was still light outside, though it would soon become dark. He walked up the set of stairs, greeting his fellow X-men on the way. Morph changed into a large parrot and flew up next to him, squawking about Polly and crackers and something about a chest and rum. Sometimes Morph could be downright silly. Logan batted him away with a small grin. Morph changed into Logan and began walking next to him, exaggerating the perpetual frown on Logan's face and making the hair on his face longer. At that point Sean came out of his room. He took one look at them and walked back into his room, muttering about too much beer. Logan had to laugh at that. Morph looked at him in surprise then began walking on his hands. Logan gave him a friendly shove away, and walked into his own room, furthest from the rest, except Jean and Magneto's. Morph turned around and became Magneto and began walking on his hands backwards. Sean came out of his room again, took one look again and went back in holding his head in his hands.
Logan closed the door of his room and turned around to find flowers strewn around his room, and music so soft coming from his bathroom that even he had to strain to hear it. He unsheathed his claws and walked up to the door. Before he could open the door and attack, it opened and Jean came out, wearing only a black jacket, black scarf and a black thong, a cap placed tilted on her flame red hair, and black cowboy boots on her feet. She sashayed forward to the music, which grew louder as she came forward. She walked up to him and taking off the scarf put it around his neck, holding the ends. Her mouth was twitching slightly, but her eyes were green pools of desire. She pulled Logan along, and he came forward, mesmerized, his claws backtracking into his hand. She took off her boots and stood on his bed. The music changed as she stood, and became a pounding beat. She swiveled on his bed, and her jacket seemed to come off. She stood there wearing only her black thong. Logan's mouth went dry with desire. He tried to look away, but couldn't. She was too. perfect. He felt himself grow aroused, he felt something in him open, something he hadn't felt since Mariko. She swayed to the music, and began pulling off her thong, till she stood in front of him, only the cap still perched on her head. He reached forward and she grabbed his arms and lay back on the bed as he bent to her.
^
That had been the start of their relationship, one that had grown stronger and stronger. They had comforted each other when their team members died; he had helped her to heal from her injuries. She had taken care of him after Cyclops had blasted off his left hand, the optic blast taking away the adamantium as well. When Xavier had died he had taken care of her. Then everything had gone to hell after the mission in which they went to rescue Psylocke. Jean had been captured and when they went to rescue her, she had fallen in love with another. Cyclops, the High Prelate who had cost him his hand, the man who had killed Xavier. Also the boy she had loved since her childhood, who she had thought dead. He had turned, apparently, against Apocalypse and his adoptive father Sinister. After the failed assault on the Tower, they had found a new ally in Helena Kahn, an ex-prelate and a childhood friend of Psylockes. Cyclops had also left the Tower, and Logan was convinced that he was against the Tower. He was also certain that Cyclops loved Jean, perhaps even more than he himself did. That's why he had let the High Prelate live. Now it seemed even Sabretooth had joined them. That was something he had never expected, that his worst enemy and a cruel and bloodthirsty killer would have joined them. Then again, he reminded himself that when they considered that Apocalypse was every mutant's enemy, old differences should be set aside, and new alliances made to overcome the common foe. Logan blinked, suddenly realizing that he had never gone on like this ever in his life. That last thought must have been the wisest thought he ever had. He shook his head. Sitting in the rain, which had now ended, he had become complacent. He could now smell the scent of death all around him. A smell he had not noticed before. Dark shapes came out of the shadows, reeking of death and decay. Inhumans, legacy of the horseman of Death, victims of his terrigen mist. Frikkin great. Logan unsheathed the claws on his hand and leapt forward, knocking one inhuman aside with his metal stub, while hacking at another. Three others converged on him. He hacked and rented and teared till only bloody corpses surrounded him. He stood there his shoulders heaving, his shirt half torn. He retracted his claws and looked down. Again the smell of decay hit him. He realized that he had stayed in this place too long. From the shadows came more inhumans, drawn by the scent of the bodies of the others. * Shit *
He pulled out the claws again. However his keen eyes had calculated all the enemies. Nearly a thousand surrounded him, and more beyond that. He had barely time to wonder what so many Inhumans were doing here, before they were on him and he began to attack them. He moved like a gymnast, clawing his way above the rabid undead humans and making his way up the side of a building. His claws dug into the wall, as he slowly climbed up. However the sheer number of Inhumans was too much, and many had begun climbing on each other trying to get him. He tried to climb higher, but his metal stub prevented that. He smashed his stub into the wall repeatedly, trying to make a hole that would allow him to gain leverage. A hand grasped his ankle and he growled in anger. Suddenly a whole bunch of hands were grabbing at his legs. He kicked at them, but to no avail. He felt teeth sink into his legs and suddenly blind rage overcame him. These godforsaken creatures thought to make a meal of him. He was already pissed enough. He pulled the stub out of the wall, and his eyes glazed over. He turned and jumped off the wall, growling in rage. He fell upon the first Inhuman, decapitating him, before turning his attention to the second, then the third then the fourth. In a matter of seconds, ten Inhumans had fallen to him. However a few hundred more converged. At this point though Logan didn't give a damn. All he wanted to do was to kill them all.
Jean was getting worried. Logan had not yet returned from wherever he had gone. Although he could take care of himself, she had sensed trouble. She had convinced Erik and Creed to come with her, leaving the others at the hideout to recuperate. Creed had followed Logan's scent until they had found dozens of massacred Inhumans. Logan's work undoubtedly, however the scent of them had overridden any other scent, and Creed couldn't track him anymore. They searched for him, Jean calling his name, following the path of Inhuman bodies. By now they had gone past at least a few hundred bodies, and it seemed there were many more. She tried to track Logan's mind by searching for him telepathically, but he didn't register. That either meant that he was berserk or dead. She hoped it was the former. Following the path of bodies Jean finally saw Creed perk up.
"What is it?"
"I found the runt, whadda ya know. I can hear him. He's just ahead."
Creed ran forward, seeming almost excited. Jean and Erik followed, getting prepared for anything.
What they didn't expect was thousands of inhumans converging on a lone figure screaming obscenities in over ten different languages. Logan stood in the thick of the fight, occasionally bodies could be seen flying overhead. Creed leapt into the fray with a growl of "I'm coming runt; ya can't have all the fun to yerself."
Jean sent a few flying, while Erik raised a magnetic field to pull any with any sort of metal part in them towards him. Only a few did. Frowning he smashed them with a massive magnetic beam. Hundreds slammed into the far wall, falling to the ground and not moving again. Jean telekinetically flung away as many as she could. In a few minutes only Creed and Logan stood, tearing apart the remaining inhumans. Jean and Erik stood farther off, exhausted from using too much power. Erik was drained; he had used too much power without being able to charge completely. Jean was just plain tired. She leaned back against a wall. Creed and Logan were more than capable enough to kill the remaining Inhumans. She watched as the two enemies worked together to take down their common foe's. She smiled, perhaps they could work together. Creed had joined them to fight against Apocalypse. Things were looking up these days.
================================
As you may have guessed, it's Sabretooth who was one of my favorite X-men from the AoA. Well, at least with this chapter, I may have managed to bring Logan into a more central role in the fic. I'm trying to slowly integrate most of the key X-men (and those I have less trouble writing) into this fic. It started off as a simple romantic drama fic, featuring Scott and Jean, with a bit of Remy. However now its become bigger. Anyway, more of Remy in the next chapter. Plus, this story draws to a close with two massive final chapters. Am halfway through the third and final installment in this series. Then I'll write something else.
Anyway, read, review and . uh. don't do drugs I guess.
Will upload in a while.
*~*
New Beginnings
Sabretooth stood in front of the abandoned warehouse. He knew who resided inside the building. He had followed the scent for a while now. This was not going to be easy. However he knew that it was something that needed to be done. He snarled slightly. The inhumans chasing after him had done their job well, though it was had not been good enough to stop Sabretooth. His healing factor had saved his hide. However it had been a close thing. If there had been more, or one of them had managed to avoid his claws, he would be dead by now. As it was he still limped slightly, and some wounds had not closed completely. The inhumans would be back, and as much as he would have liked to let the runt deal with them, he knew that he would have to lay old enmities aside to even have a hope of standing against Apocalypse. His foray into the Tower with Juggernaut had proved that he was not as strong as he would have liked to believe. He knew his limitations, he wasn't the brightest light on the block, but he wasn't completely stupid either. He braced himself and walked into the building.
x----------------- ------------x
Magneto stood in front of the monitor bank built into the wall. He and Charles had designed and built a lot of these small hideouts in America. They would be virtually undetectable by Apocalypse and his forces. However Apocalypses security devices had taken sudden bounds. The Sea Wall had begun expanding according to Emma and Moira, and their radar seemed to be far more advanced. They had picked up the bio signature of a mutant hundreds of kilometers away, whereas the X-men's apparatus had only picked it up when they were far closer. The mutant had been very low on energy as well. To distinguish him from a human would have been difficult unless close enough.
All of the monitors showed different things. One showed a map of the world, shaded in different colors. Dark blue showed regions Apocalypse controlled. White showed destroyed areas such as South America, France and the southern part of Africa. Green showed all Human high Council areas while yellow showed all X-men safe areas. Another monitor showed the Sea Wall defense perimeter, and another the known Death Camps. Magneto's attention was directed toward the one showing the Death Camps. That was what he needed to stop. The Death Camps were of all Apocalypses' crimes the most heinous in Magneto's eyes.
As he pondered over how to strike at them next an alarm sounded. An intruder was in the building. Magneto turned to the monitor that would show him who it was. It was most likely a human or group of humans who had stumbled onto the warehouse. While the streets of this town were mostly deserted, some humans still remained. When he saw the figure on the monitor Magneto's eyes widened. He heard a snarl behind him and saw Weapon X staring at the monitor with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, his lips curled back. He put a hand on his shoulder and the feral seemed to calm down.
"Sabretooth. He's mine Erik."
Magneto watched Wolverine unsheathe his claws. He knew of their enmity and he knew that if he tried to stop Weapon X, he would go ahead and do what he wanted anyway.
"By all means, Logan. Take care of him, but Jean and I are coming as well." The telepath had mentally contacted him when she heard the alarm and she was already on her way down from the room where she was tending Piotr with Kitty.
Weapon X walked out of the room. To Magneto it was clear that he was holding his rage in check. He knew that Weapon X and Sabretooth had not completed their fight when they fought in the Tower, and that perhaps it would end now. He knew that it would be necessary to put down Sabretooth.
x----------------- ------------x
Logan knew why Erik and Jean were coming with him. To make sure he didn't give into his rage and destroy everything around him. He walked into the main hallway of the warehouse. Creed stood in the centre of the room, a large imposing figure in a duster much like Remy's. However while Remy's was brown, his was black. His head was bent and his eyes glowed slightly in the dark. Logan knew Creed was looking straight at him.
"Long time no see bub. Ya ready ter finish this?"
Creed looked at him, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"I'm not here ta fight runt. I'm here ta talk."
Logan's eyes widened slightly. Talk? Creed? Ha!
"Well I'm ready ta talk ya piece of shit. Let's finish this!"
He unsheathed two claws on the side longer than the one in the middle and leapt forward. Creed met his attack and grabbed his hand. Not what Logan expected, he had thought Creed would have tried to claw at him, or tried to grapple with him, not to grab his hand defensively. Creed and defensive didn't click. Snarling he tried to pull his hand back, but Creed was stronger in terms of physical strength. However Logan knew a lot of tricks. He brought his leg up to knee Creed, but Creed blocked that as well. He couldn't block his other leg though, and Creed staggered back as Logan's boot caught him on his chest. Logan swung his metal stub at Creed. Creed ducked back, his fangs bared in a snarl.
"Dammit Logan I don't want to fight!"
It was Creed's usage of his name that caused Logan to pause in his attack. From behind him he could hear the sounds of Jean and Erik entering the room. Creed stood a few paces in front of him, his eyes wary, shoulders heaving as he drew breath. He stood in a guarded pose, ready to block any attack on Logan's part. Logan had never seen Creed act in this manner. Logan backed off, putting his hands down, but remaining ready just in case Creed decided to attack.
"What do you want, Sabretooth?" Erik stood in front of the door he had come from. His posture and tone was menacing.
Creed looked at Erik, though he kept an eye on Logan.
"I've actually come in peace Magneto. Apocalypse ain't the kind of mutant it's wise to go up against alone. I found that out the hard way."
Logan looked as Jean gave a nearly imperceptible nod of the head to Erik. His jaw nearly dropped open. Creed was telling the truth. He was completely sincere in the reason he gave for coming here. Logan drew back his claws. He began walking towards the door. He turned just before leaving.
"This team seems to be going to the dogs. First Cyclops, now Creed. What next? Maybe Holocaust an' Sinister will be having a cup of tea with us tomorrow." The last was said with a snarl before Logan turned and walked out of the large room, leaving Creed, Erik and Jean alone.
x----------------- ------------x
He had lost track of time. He had been in this room for a very long time now, from what he could judge over six hours had passed since he had first been locked in here. He felt around the room, looking for any way out, or any weakness in the structure. This was the sixth time he was doing this since he was put here. He couldn't use his powers to any effect on the walls as it had had no effect. His most powerful blast had merely warmed the room considerably. Scott wasn't using his powers anymore. Since they were fairly useless he wanted to conserve as much energy as possible for any fights once he left this prison. He had considered the possibility that he might not escape, but had dismissed that possibility. For to think that would mean to lose hope, and that meant the battle was lost already. Scott did not intend on staying here. He would break free sooner or later.
Finding nothing but the same smooth surface again, Scott sank onto his knees, trying to figure out another way out.
That had been an hour ago. Now he was walking along a hallway, lined with paintings of different men and women, however Scott recognized them all. They weren't just men and women. They weren't even just humans. The walls were lined with pictures of Externals. Scott looked at them almost idly; however his mind was checking each portrait to see if they could provide any insight on the owner of these pictures. The first one was of Absolom, a powerful mutant who had been in the Hellfire Club, albeit as an inactive member. He had been killed by Archanfel when the Hellfire Cub had been destroyed. The next was Saul, a powerful mutant and mystic sorcerer from the Far East, as well as one of the White Rooks. He had been killed by Apocalypse when Apocalypse had thrown a building on the Hellfire Club. The next picture, next to Absolom portrayed Gideon, a large external. He had been killed before Apocalypse had assaulted the Hellfire Club. Next was Necodemus, a benevolent looking mutant, he had been the other White Rook. He had been killed along with Saul. The next picture showed a tall and slim woman. She had a disdainful look on her coldly beautiful features. It was Galaire, one of those who had captured him. A little ahead was a picture of Burke, another External. Scott had no idea what had happened to him, except that he too was dead. A huge, powerfully built brutish man stood in the next picture. It was Astaroth, another renegade who Scott had been captured by. Archanfel stood in the next picture and beyond that one was Exodus. Asmodeus was sitting in a chair in the next picture. He looked younger in the picture, his hair only slightly wispy. He was the only External Scott had seen who looked even slightly over middle aged. A voluptuous woman stood in the next picture. Incongruously Behamen was sticking her tongue out in the portrait. Gilgamesh stood in the last picture in the hall. As Scott turned the corner though he saw a few more portraits. The first was of Candra, and opposite that was of another woman, though she was perhaps the most beautiful Scott had ever seen. Selene had been the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club, and had gone one on one against Apocalypse after he had destroyed the building. Apocalypse had been impressed by her abilities. The next two pictures were of Sammael and the man dressed in black who had been in his nightmares and in the hallway he had tried to escape from. Beyond those pictures were double doors. Above the double doors was the largest portrait, of a tall man, who was balding. The man stood with a scepter in his hand. Scott didn't know who that one was; perhaps he would be meeting him beyond the doors.
The doors opened and Scott found himself in a large chamber. On one side was a seating space for five people. The other side had a large monitor bank. Directly opposite the doors he had entered were steps leading up to a throne-like chair. The man in black sat in the throne. He looked amused for some reason.
"Ah, finally. I trust the accomodation was to your liking Mr. Summers?"
Scott looked up at him with a frown.
"Actually, it wasn't."
The man in black smiled. It was fairly reasonable to assume he was an External, perhaps the leader of these renegade Externals.
"I apologize about that, it was necessary to detain you. Once I tell you, you will understand why we had to keep you here to talk to us."
"I'll understand better once you tell me your name."
The man seemed amused again. The smile on his face didn't reach his eyes however.
"I am called Nidlen Halfbane."
Scott looked at him. Was he supposed to be impressed by the name? Halfbane's eyes narrowed when he saw the lack of reaction from Scott. He banged his scepter on the ground and a door by the smaller throne-like chairs on the side opened. The renegade External's walked in, eyes on Scott. This Halfbane did lead the Externals. The Externals took their seats. As Scott watched Behamen smiled coyly at him. His eyes narrowed slightly. It would be wise not to underestimate a woman like her. She would act playful, but would kill you without a second thought. He knew each of the Externals powers, it had been necessary as High-Prelate to know that, but their personalities were something that Sinister had drilled him on. Scott wondered why Sinister's portrait hadn't been outside. Or Holocausts for that matter. He brushed the thought aside; it was no use worrying over something else when a problem was facing him at the moment. Even though he had hidden any feelings from his face and posture, as he had been trained to do, he was impressed, and a nugget of fear was lodged in his heart. Facing five Externals' who had every reason to bear him enmity, and a man who seemed to lead them, who impressed Scott with his very presence, which dominated the room. Halfbane leaned back in his throne, watching Scott carefully. Scott stared back impassively, refusing to react before Halfbane did.
"So, Scott Summers, have you any clue as to why I had you brought here?"
Scott stared at him, then his lip curled slightly in irritation.
"If I knew that, you wouldn't ask me."
Halfbane smiled slightly, then his face became expressionless again.
"So, you have some spirit, that is good. For what you have ahead of you, you will need a strong backbone."
Scott's eye's narrowed below his glasses, but he wasn't about to let his adversary, for that is what Scott knew him to be, see any expression on his face.
"I am sure there was a point to your calling me before you."
"I wish you to do something for me."
Scott stood waiting for him to continue.
"It entails some danger, however someone of your abilities should be able to handle it with relative ease. The job will be well suited to you. In return I will help rid you of any unpleasant dreams."
Scott's eye's widened considerably. This man was the man in his dream, who had woken him up. Who was he?
"You have told me nothing about yourself. I don't deal with people I cannot trust."
Halfbane chuckled softly. His mouth twitched slightly and then he stood up. If Scott had thought his presence was dominating when he sat, it increased tenfold now.
"All you need to know is my name, Nidlen Halfbane, eldest among the living Externals, barring one. I am the shaper of a hundred destinies, the one- time wielder of the great sword 'Anolith', the power behind countless thrones in the past. I am also the brother of the dreadlord Kar' Toman Selavayne, Sammael as he is known now."
The last dropped Scott's jaw. This man was a brother of Sammael's? That might have explained Sammael's obsession with finding the renegade External's, but not his desire to kill them all.
Unless they had had a falling out.
"You. are Sammael's brother?"
Halfbane looked at him.
"Yes, half-brother actually. We had the same mother. Do not look so shocked Scott Summers. There is very little love lost between us two, and it has always been so. Since either of us were born. It has been so long since that time that I do not even remember my exact age, or which of us is the elder. However, that is all irrelevant. What matter's is whether you will agree to do this job for me?"
Scott stared at the External, his brain absorbing all the information he had just received.
"What job? I mean what it entails. Even if I were to accept it, I would know what I must do beforehand."
Halfbane sat down in his chair before answering, and even that he first ran his hands through his hair before answering.
"Apocalypse moves even as we speak, his forces are rallying around him. His horsemen already roam the world, ready to strike. His armies of Infinites are too many, the processing plants churning out too many for the Human High Council or even the X-men to combat. His Reavers are massing in the Sea Walls, ready for battle. The mutant units and his human armies garrison in his strongholds. His lieutenants are ready to lead, with the mutant elite force under them. The kill-droids designed by Dark-Beast and Sinister are protecting his Tower. His death camps are always there for his culling and to provide him extra energy. Your old master is poised to take over the world, and only one person can help in stopping him. I need to find Destiny."
Scott Summers looked at him, then burst out laughing.
"Do you find something funny, Mr. Summers?" Halfbane's voice was cold.
Scott wheezed slightly and then looked at the External again. The other Externals merely sat and watched.
"Destiny cannot be found, not unless she wishes to be found. Besides, unless I miss my guess, she must be dead a few years now."
Halfbane smiled again, a cold mocking smile.
"Your guess is wrong Cyclops. She lives, in Avalon, refuge for the broken and desperate. I only it is in Antarctica. In a land untouched by the frigid temperature of the rest of the continent. All I know is that she is there. I do not know exactly where it is, but once you reach there, she will find you."
Scott watched the Externals eyes carefully. He had to be certain that he wasn't insane.
"If this is so important, why don't you do it yourself, or send one of your lackeys." He nodded his head towards the Externals. Galaire looked at him coldly, Asmodeus frowned, Astaroth growled, Behamen snarled and Gilgamesh crossed his arms and leaned back.
Halfbane smiled again, looking at them.
"No, they all won't be going with you. Only Galaire, for her control over the water and ice. It will be helpful in Antarctica, after all I won't want you dying before she manages to find you. Apart from that, if I send an External Destiny won't be able to detect them. We all have some natural protection against that sort of tacking."
Galaire did not look happy. Scott contemplated what Halfbane said for a few minutes. If he went, he would get what he wanted, time to think about his life. Also he would be able to meet Destiny. Also if Halfbane was not exaggerating about Apocalypse, then if she could be useful, he would help them. He couldn't trust them, but if they managed to take down Apocalypse, then it would be better for the world in general. He would have to make sure that they didn't take over too much power, otherwise it would just be another conquest. He could tell enough that all of the Externals in this room were power hungry mutants, heartless and serving only themselves. It was no matter. Scott knew his duty, and he would do it. Besides, he would be rid of hjis irritating dreams.
"I'll do it. However I lead between myself and Galaire, and I'll want a small team with me as well."
Halfbane smiled.
"Don't worry, you will lead the team, as long as you follow all the instruction I now give. Galaire will not precisely follow you; however she will go with you. In battle you will be the field leader. I will send a few people with you, none mutant though. It will not matter. I doubt you will come across too much trouble. Another thing. You must bring Destiny back with you, within a week of your arriving at Avalon."
Scott nodded, then turned to leave. As he reached the door he turned to all of the Externals, looking at them slowly and carefully.
"Know this; I am no one's servant. Apart from that, I want a better room."
Halfbane nodded. Scott left the room.
"A very dangerous young man. He has a strong will. He is a good choice. I would never have expected him to leave Essex. It shows he cannot be pushed. Perhaps he will help us bring down Apocalypse." Asmodeus stood and walked to the corner of the room, where a bookshelf stood. He took one out and began to idly go through it.
The other Externals rose as well, Gilgamesh and Astaroth conversing quietly. Behamen looked slightly put out with Asmodeus's comment. However Galaire walked up to Halfbane.
"What do you mean in letting him have command? I follow no mere mutant. Even an alpha class one like him. It is beneath me."
Halfbane rose to his full height, looking down at her from his elevated position. His brows drew together in a scowl.
"However you do follow me. Hence if I tell you to follow his command, you will obey me." His voice was icily calm; his face however scowled down at her. AS he spoke Galaire was lifted off the ground. He brought her to him, and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I am confident you will manage to sway him to your way of thinking. You are clever, and you are powerful enough for him not to confront you when you make an issue. You also know that once Destiny is found, you will take charge, and bring both him and her back."
Asmodeus turned around, and looked up from the book he was reading.
"It would not be wise to underestimate him. He is a very dangerous mutant. Offhand I can only think of a few who are as dangerous, Weapon X, Magneto, the deceased Xavier, Mikhail Rasputin, Juggernaut, there aren't many more. He has nearly as much sheer power as Magneto, enhanced by those gauntlet's if I am any guess, as well as being nearly as dangerous in hand to hand combat as Weapon X. That combination puts him at their level at least. Only the External's, Sinister, Holocaust and Apocalypse are more dangerous. Oh and his horsemen of course. There is only one more mutant that is potentially more dangerous than all of those as well. Rogue. She can already fly, has massive strength, speed and is nigh-invulnerable. She can also manipulate magnetic fields, though to a much lesser extent than Magneto or Polaris. She only has to touch a mutant or even a super-powered individual to win any fight. If she can be captured she could be used to take out all our enemies. Experimenting in the right ways. hmm, Only Essex could carry out such a-"
"Enough babbling. You are getting off topic Argorion. What exactly is the point of telling me all of this?" Halfbane had sat in his throne again while Asmodeus spoke.
The other Externals' watched him, Galaire with open cynical amusement, Behamen with a wry grin tugging at her lips; she had always found his rambling adorable. Gilgamesh ignored him, while Astaroth shook his head.
Asmodeus blinked twice then shook his head.
"Old age is getting to me."
This prompted laughs from all the others, except Gilgamesh. Asmodeus watched him, without taking his eyes off the others in the room. Gilgamesh wasn't fooled by his vague manner. Neither was Halfbane. Well perhaps Gilgamesh had no sense of humor, but Halfbane had known Asmodeus's tricks before his... rest, and he knew that Asmodeus wasn't as lost as he sometimes appeared.
"My point was that we have no idea why Cyclops left the Tower. It is fairly certain that he is now their enemy, but not completely certain. No I am worried because we know too little about his motivations to be sure he will complete the task we have given him, or whether he is just a precursor to an attack by Sammael."
Halfbane scowled at the mention of his brother than seemed to shake of the dark mood that had come upon him.
"It is no matter. We shall leave here anyway. Only Galaire knows where to come and if Cyclops makes too much trouble he is to be put down. Do not worry yourself Asmodeus. It is unlikely he will renege on his word. He is the Tower's enemy, and he will help us as far as he is able. Beyond that.."
He shrugged.
Logan sat in the rain, water pouring down on him. He knew that he should probably get out of the rain, but at the moment he didn't really give a damn.
"Yeah, caknucklehead, life's a bitch; you oughta know that by now."
He crouched under a tattered tarpaulin that only gave him marginal cover from the rain. To him the rain was a symbol of the shit that his life had digressed into. He couldn't really remember his early years, only from a few years before he met Charles Xavier. Weapon X was the last thing he remembered, the days a while after he got adamantium put into him by some bastard government agency. He couldn't remember the procedure or what government agency it had been. Pretty much the only thing he remembered was the codename given to him and meeting Xavier. After a few years everything seemed to have been shot to hell. He had been leading a team to attack a death camp, when an ambush had been sprung on them, courtesy of a traitor, Guido. He had managed to survive, as had the rest of his team, barring two. Guido and Phoenix I, one of Jean's friends had been killed in the attack by the prelates. Logan had taken the death personally, and when Jean had joined the team a few years later, he had at first tried to apologize to her about her friend. She had brushed it off, but Logan could see that she had been at the edge of despair. He had helped her out of her black mood, helping to get over her pain of losing much of her family and friends in the war, as well as another boy, who Sinister had killed. He had come to love Jean, but she was much younger than him and he didn't want to hurt her in any way. Then she had seduced him, Logan still remembered that day.
^ Logan sat outside the X-mansion, cleaning his hands, after doing a thorough check on his old Dina Wynne Glyde. There were only two things he cared for deeply these days, Jean and his motorbike. He was loyal to the X- men, but Jean came first, and the motorbike was his only possession. He had found it abandoned and had restored it. He sat back, drying his hands on a cloth. Jean had been acting funny that whole day, staring at him until he thought maybe there was something on his face, and kept on giving him strange looks as though she had something stuck in her ass and was trying to act the other way. He had to hand it to her, she could make him laugh. He had single handedly rescued her from a depression and he was proud of that, and of her. She was getting tougher, though he didn't want her to become too cynical and hard, not like himself. He hoped she would retain some of her innocence and sweetness. He doubted that was possible in a world where Apocalypse ruled, but he hoped anyway.
He put the cloth away and began walking up to his room. It was still light outside, though it would soon become dark. He walked up the set of stairs, greeting his fellow X-men on the way. Morph changed into a large parrot and flew up next to him, squawking about Polly and crackers and something about a chest and rum. Sometimes Morph could be downright silly. Logan batted him away with a small grin. Morph changed into Logan and began walking next to him, exaggerating the perpetual frown on Logan's face and making the hair on his face longer. At that point Sean came out of his room. He took one look at them and walked back into his room, muttering about too much beer. Logan had to laugh at that. Morph looked at him in surprise then began walking on his hands. Logan gave him a friendly shove away, and walked into his own room, furthest from the rest, except Jean and Magneto's. Morph turned around and became Magneto and began walking on his hands backwards. Sean came out of his room again, took one look again and went back in holding his head in his hands.
Logan closed the door of his room and turned around to find flowers strewn around his room, and music so soft coming from his bathroom that even he had to strain to hear it. He unsheathed his claws and walked up to the door. Before he could open the door and attack, it opened and Jean came out, wearing only a black jacket, black scarf and a black thong, a cap placed tilted on her flame red hair, and black cowboy boots on her feet. She sashayed forward to the music, which grew louder as she came forward. She walked up to him and taking off the scarf put it around his neck, holding the ends. Her mouth was twitching slightly, but her eyes were green pools of desire. She pulled Logan along, and he came forward, mesmerized, his claws backtracking into his hand. She took off her boots and stood on his bed. The music changed as she stood, and became a pounding beat. She swiveled on his bed, and her jacket seemed to come off. She stood there wearing only her black thong. Logan's mouth went dry with desire. He tried to look away, but couldn't. She was too. perfect. He felt himself grow aroused, he felt something in him open, something he hadn't felt since Mariko. She swayed to the music, and began pulling off her thong, till she stood in front of him, only the cap still perched on her head. He reached forward and she grabbed his arms and lay back on the bed as he bent to her.
^
That had been the start of their relationship, one that had grown stronger and stronger. They had comforted each other when their team members died; he had helped her to heal from her injuries. She had taken care of him after Cyclops had blasted off his left hand, the optic blast taking away the adamantium as well. When Xavier had died he had taken care of her. Then everything had gone to hell after the mission in which they went to rescue Psylocke. Jean had been captured and when they went to rescue her, she had fallen in love with another. Cyclops, the High Prelate who had cost him his hand, the man who had killed Xavier. Also the boy she had loved since her childhood, who she had thought dead. He had turned, apparently, against Apocalypse and his adoptive father Sinister. After the failed assault on the Tower, they had found a new ally in Helena Kahn, an ex-prelate and a childhood friend of Psylockes. Cyclops had also left the Tower, and Logan was convinced that he was against the Tower. He was also certain that Cyclops loved Jean, perhaps even more than he himself did. That's why he had let the High Prelate live. Now it seemed even Sabretooth had joined them. That was something he had never expected, that his worst enemy and a cruel and bloodthirsty killer would have joined them. Then again, he reminded himself that when they considered that Apocalypse was every mutant's enemy, old differences should be set aside, and new alliances made to overcome the common foe. Logan blinked, suddenly realizing that he had never gone on like this ever in his life. That last thought must have been the wisest thought he ever had. He shook his head. Sitting in the rain, which had now ended, he had become complacent. He could now smell the scent of death all around him. A smell he had not noticed before. Dark shapes came out of the shadows, reeking of death and decay. Inhumans, legacy of the horseman of Death, victims of his terrigen mist. Frikkin great. Logan unsheathed the claws on his hand and leapt forward, knocking one inhuman aside with his metal stub, while hacking at another. Three others converged on him. He hacked and rented and teared till only bloody corpses surrounded him. He stood there his shoulders heaving, his shirt half torn. He retracted his claws and looked down. Again the smell of decay hit him. He realized that he had stayed in this place too long. From the shadows came more inhumans, drawn by the scent of the bodies of the others. * Shit *
He pulled out the claws again. However his keen eyes had calculated all the enemies. Nearly a thousand surrounded him, and more beyond that. He had barely time to wonder what so many Inhumans were doing here, before they were on him and he began to attack them. He moved like a gymnast, clawing his way above the rabid undead humans and making his way up the side of a building. His claws dug into the wall, as he slowly climbed up. However the sheer number of Inhumans was too much, and many had begun climbing on each other trying to get him. He tried to climb higher, but his metal stub prevented that. He smashed his stub into the wall repeatedly, trying to make a hole that would allow him to gain leverage. A hand grasped his ankle and he growled in anger. Suddenly a whole bunch of hands were grabbing at his legs. He kicked at them, but to no avail. He felt teeth sink into his legs and suddenly blind rage overcame him. These godforsaken creatures thought to make a meal of him. He was already pissed enough. He pulled the stub out of the wall, and his eyes glazed over. He turned and jumped off the wall, growling in rage. He fell upon the first Inhuman, decapitating him, before turning his attention to the second, then the third then the fourth. In a matter of seconds, ten Inhumans had fallen to him. However a few hundred more converged. At this point though Logan didn't give a damn. All he wanted to do was to kill them all.
Jean was getting worried. Logan had not yet returned from wherever he had gone. Although he could take care of himself, she had sensed trouble. She had convinced Erik and Creed to come with her, leaving the others at the hideout to recuperate. Creed had followed Logan's scent until they had found dozens of massacred Inhumans. Logan's work undoubtedly, however the scent of them had overridden any other scent, and Creed couldn't track him anymore. They searched for him, Jean calling his name, following the path of Inhuman bodies. By now they had gone past at least a few hundred bodies, and it seemed there were many more. She tried to track Logan's mind by searching for him telepathically, but he didn't register. That either meant that he was berserk or dead. She hoped it was the former. Following the path of bodies Jean finally saw Creed perk up.
"What is it?"
"I found the runt, whadda ya know. I can hear him. He's just ahead."
Creed ran forward, seeming almost excited. Jean and Erik followed, getting prepared for anything.
What they didn't expect was thousands of inhumans converging on a lone figure screaming obscenities in over ten different languages. Logan stood in the thick of the fight, occasionally bodies could be seen flying overhead. Creed leapt into the fray with a growl of "I'm coming runt; ya can't have all the fun to yerself."
Jean sent a few flying, while Erik raised a magnetic field to pull any with any sort of metal part in them towards him. Only a few did. Frowning he smashed them with a massive magnetic beam. Hundreds slammed into the far wall, falling to the ground and not moving again. Jean telekinetically flung away as many as she could. In a few minutes only Creed and Logan stood, tearing apart the remaining inhumans. Jean and Erik stood farther off, exhausted from using too much power. Erik was drained; he had used too much power without being able to charge completely. Jean was just plain tired. She leaned back against a wall. Creed and Logan were more than capable enough to kill the remaining Inhumans. She watched as the two enemies worked together to take down their common foe's. She smiled, perhaps they could work together. Creed had joined them to fight against Apocalypse. Things were looking up these days.
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As you may have guessed, it's Sabretooth who was one of my favorite X-men from the AoA. Well, at least with this chapter, I may have managed to bring Logan into a more central role in the fic. I'm trying to slowly integrate most of the key X-men (and those I have less trouble writing) into this fic. It started off as a simple romantic drama fic, featuring Scott and Jean, with a bit of Remy. However now its become bigger. Anyway, more of Remy in the next chapter. Plus, this story draws to a close with two massive final chapters. Am halfway through the third and final installment in this series. Then I'll write something else.
Anyway, read, review and . uh. don't do drugs I guess.
Will upload in a while.