Disclaimer: yeah, yeah, yeah, you know the drill, I don't own them don't sue.

A/N: this is based on eXtreme X-Men when they were still looking for the destiny diaries. This is something like a continuation of the tale and most importantly each one of the team's views on the subject.

Sorry it's so bloody short but there will be more in the future.

Please read and review.

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A purple light illuminated the darkness as she opened her sky blue eyes. At once she surveyed her new surroundings. The Egyptian hieroglyphics had deceived her once again.

"By the Goddess…" she sighed as she slumped against the wall of the pyramid.

She thought back to her protector, how Amahl Farkok had chosen her to fight this..new evil; new power. That was a week (or two) ago.. She had met him only once and immediately she sensed it. The power. It melted off of him in waves.

And he reveled in it.

"Strange" she thought as she moved the sword around catching the light from the flame of the torch, "..He choose sword fighting--?!?!"

She stood quickly.

"…"

Footsteps.

"This is it..." her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

"…."

She meets his piercing gaze as she raises her sword, ready to strike.

He makes no move to ready himself, he mearly studies her movements; almost smirking to himself.

She screams as she charges to him.

Muscles flex as she swings her weapon.

They both pause for a moment, each at the far end of the corridor, backs to each other.

They both turn to face each other.

Blood trickles down her cheek as some sprinkles from her left arm.

He smiles.

She is clearly in shock but her face is expressionless.

She raises her blade in front of her face.

His smile begins to fade as he looks down at his right side.

Crimson pours down his muscular stomach, down his powerful legs and splatters on the marble floor.

"First blood..." he whispers. He looks up just in time to see her raise the blade in front of her face. She slowly, ever so slowly licks the elixir from the sword.

"…Beauty, please…" he yells down the narrow corridor, "…if you want me that bad…"

She screams and charges to him once again, sword raised high.

Inches way from his face, Vargas grabs the blade.

Ororo pulls back on the blade, as his strength pulls her to him.