The Rise of the Sentinels

by beyond-grace

Part two of three in a series. Please read Sentinels of Genosha first.

3. Chapters one through five

Chapter One
Remy LaBeau held a deck of cards in one hand and continued to shuffle the bottom card to the top. He did that when he was thinking. And recently he had been doing his famous one-handed shuffle more often. The former thief walked cautiously through the room, eyeing every corner and waiting for a trap to spring. He paused; now knowing that one of the many traps had already been set in motion, although he didn't know which one.
Remy grabbed the top card from the deck with his free hand and waited. He wasn't sure how long he would have to stand still, but the thief had a feeling that it wouldn't be long. It didn't matter. He could remain still as long as it took.
Finally there was movement. A hovering robot came into his view, arming itself with stun lasers. Remy jumped back as the first laser was fired, simultaneously charging the card in his right hand and throwing it at the robot. The machine exploded and then crumbled to the floor.
Two more came, these ones weren't playing around though. They had been set to kill. Remy jumped out of the way as the robots opened fire, both putting holes where he had been only milliseconds before. The thief could hear the end of his trench coat singe as the machines continued to fire.
At last he stood up and grabbed one of the robots by its barrel, charged it, and threw it at the second. Both exploded into little pieces. Remy looked up and smiled.
"Is this the best you can do, petit?" he taunted.
"You want worse?" Rogue's voice echoed from the control room.
"Bring them on!"
As he spoke seven more robots came into view. Remy could see Rogue giving him an air kiss from the control room. His grin grew.
At once the robots came to life, and Remy reacted to their attacks. The first two fired power waves, which Remy easily dodged by jumping towards the machines. He turned himself so that his back was on the floor and kicked the two hovering robots with his legs. At the same time Remy charged another card and threw it.
Although the card did not hit the robot he was aiming at, it did manage to knock out a support beam, which in turn crushed another robot.
One down, Remy thought to himself. Three more emerged from the floor.
Remy laughed and jumped on top of one. He could see others shooting at him. Another three charged cards flew through the air, destroying the three most recently deployed robots. Remy pulled his staff from its holder and shoved it in the robot that he was riding's barrel, and then jumped. It blew, leaving the staff unharmed.
As he stood Remy felt a paint ball pellet hit him, then a second and a third. More continued to shoot him relentlessly as he shook his head and looked up at Rogue. She smiled, knowing that she had been victorious yet again.
"I win, big man!" Rogue boasted over the loudspeaker.
He watched as the robots receded to their starting point and then continued out of the Danger Room. The Cajun entered the locker room and proceeded to get undressed, and then showered up, and came into the changing area again. It seemed so empty now. Only about seven of the full time students still remained living at the school at current. Most had gone home, but some had gone to a mutant camp sponsored by Warren Worthington (a man that Remy only knew because he had stolen a couple of jewels from, although this information had not been shared with others). Logan was gone, off to find out something about his past. And Scott was also gone, after Genosha the man had needed some time off. Xavier had given the X-Man known as Cyclops a vacation without thinking twice.
As for Remy, he had volunteered to stay behind and help out with the summer kids, at least this year he would. In the fall he was thinking of going to Louisiana while Rogue continued her studies in NYU.
He closed his locker and went into the hallway, where Rogue waited for him patiently. "I won," she bragged again.
Remy grinned. "So what? Big deal? You want a medal for it or something." He was flirting, but that was okay. She didn't seem to mind when he flirted with her.
"You gonna go out and make it yourself?"

Remy scoffed. "Course not."
"Then I don't want a medal. I think I'll just bug you about it for the rest of the month."
"The month?"
"The week."
"The week?"
"Maybe the end of the day."
Now it was her who was grinning. Remy wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he knew the rules. No touching of any kind. Those weren't just rules because it made Rogue feel better, those were rules so that he could stay alive long enough to flirt with her more. For now he was content to move his hand into her gloved hand.
"Come on," he started. "I'm gonna go kick your butt at pool, alright?"
"Suuure, big man," Rogue joked. Her eyes went big to increase the mockery.
Remy did not try to come up with a response. He merely continued to lead her up to the main part of the school.

Rogue and Remy were half way to the game room when the girl stopped. She put her hands on her head, suddenly very dizzy. Over the past couple of weeks Rogue had learned to deal with these dizzy spells. Originally they had been accompanied with memories of other people's lives, but thankfully Xavier had silenced those thoughts. Now Rogue never spoke of the spells.
She merely dismissed them as subconscious thoughts struggling to break free. In a few minutes the thoughts would pass, and Rogue would feel one hundred percent again.
As she glanced up she could see Remy standing a few feet in front of her. He was stopped, and looking back with concern in his eyes. His blood red eyes. They hadn't been red when Rogue and he had first met. It was only after Apocalypse put his mind control serum into Remy that his eyes changed. Everyone else's ability returned to normal within a few days after the battle on Genosha, but Remy's eyes remained red. She didn't know why. Nor did anyone else (including Xavier). In time they had just learned to except that Remy's eyes were red, and there was nothing else to it. It didn't stop him from wearing dark sunglasses whenever he went out in public.
"You alright, Rogue?" he asked, his voice more concerned than a casual question.
Rogue didn't even notice that her hands were to her head. She looked around for a moment, wondering if any of the other students or faculty had seen her. As fare as she could tell no one else was around.
"Yeah," she replied, her face slightly flush. "I guess beating you in the Danger Room just took a lot out of me."
Remy smiled. She could tell that he knew she was lying. "Well, you don't have to worry about that with pool. I'll beat you this time."
Rogue smiled back.
"There you two are," a deep friendly voice said.
The two turned and saw Hank McCoy walking down the hall. His giant blue furry figure made him look almost like he belonged on a children's show. His face, although monstrous, always held a warm smile that would immediately melt away any fears from his outer appearance. Hank's giant blue hands could hold the head of a small child, if he wished. But in all the time that Rogue had known Hank McCoy he had never once lost his temper.
"Professor Xavier is looking for you two," Hank continued. "Please, this way to his study."
Rogue and Remy knew where the study was. Xavier's study dubbed as his classroom (because Xavier found it more relaxing in the study not for a lack of space). In her years of education at the Xavier School Rogue had taken several courses in the study, and Remy had seen the room during his grand tour of the mansion. Still, Hank's manner's went hand in hand with his kindness, and as a force of habit he lead them to the study.
Inside Rogue could see both Ororo Monroe and Kurt Wagner were waiting patiently. Professor Charles Xavier, however, was no present.

Charles Xavier sat alone in the empty sanctuary; his own private room in the school. The cold steel encompassed his bald skin. Twin steel wires ran from the helmet to a giant computer. As the days continued, Xavier had become more and more upset with himself.
It had already been three weeks since they had left Genosha, and no one had heard from his student Jubilation Lee. What was worse, despite several attempts Xavier had not been able to locate her, and he was beginning to fear the worse.
Not another one, Xavier thought to himself as he took the helmet off and put it on its hold. He turned his wheelchair around on the tiny circle, and then continued back down the platform. He knew that he shouldn't have taken them along, any of them. His teachers were one thing, but the students? What was he thinking, allowing them to pretend to be X- Men before they were ready?
As the headmaster of the school entered his study he saw that the five he had summoned were already present.
"I need Nightcrawler and Storm to go down to New Orleans and find Jubilee," Xavier announced. No sense in fluffing it up. "I made a mistake taking her along on the mission, and a bigger mistake letting her go out on her own, but I want her found, now."
Ororo nodded.
"Wait a minute," Remy started. "Charles, I know New Orleans. I know what the people are like down there. If you want the girl found, I think I'd have an easier time than those two."
"Excuse me?" Xavier replied.
"Look, with all due respect to Nightcrawler and Storm, I know the people in New Orleans. I know where to look, and the places most likely to have information. I mean, I'm sure that those two are excellent X-Men, but they just don't know New Orleans like a local."
Xavier looked over to his other students.
"He does make a point," Storm admitted.
"Alright, do it," Xavier started. "Take Rogue with you, but be careful. I'll book you a plane. Get your things packed."
Remy grinned and turned for the door.
And Remy, Xavier added, thinking only to the thief, be careful.

Remy had been packing for only ten minutes when he heard a soft knocking on the door. "It's open," Remy said, not bothering to move away from his dresser.
The door did not open, but Remy could hear the soft puff of smoke that he heard whenever Kurt teleported. "Remy, is there anything that I can do to help?" Kurt asked.
Remy smiled. Kurt was a nice man, but he was a bad liar. "What's on your mind, Kurt?" he asked.
"Are you sure that you want to go on this mission? I mean. after your encounter with the police at the train station?"
"I don't plan on talking to the police."
"But still. I mean; this isn't a. test. Their people fire real bullets. And when you lose, that's it."
Remy finally realized what Kurt was getting at. Out of all the times that Remy had gone to the Danger room, every time Remy had failed. But the Danger Room wasn't real life. Remy knew that. In the Danger Room there was room for error, and the enemies could be impossibly overpowering. In the real world Remy had never been caught, and he didn't mean to start on a simple "missing persons" mission.
All the same, he did not take offense to Kurt's question. From the look in the X-Man's yellow eyes Remy could tell that he meant no insult, only concern.
"I'll be fine, Kurt. You have to remember; before I came up here I was a member of the Thieves Guild. And as a thief I was never once caught."
"Except when you came here." Kurt grinned.
Remy could not help but laugh. The story was humorous, and yet embarrassing. A master thief; a former member of the Thieves Guild; caught by a girl because he had to snag a kiss.
"Yeah, well, I don't think my hormones will be my downfall this time," Remy said. He zipped up his suitcase and walked towards Kurt, patting his friend on the shoulder. "'Sides, I've got a job or two that I need to do while down there."
Kurt looked sternly at Remy, and in a second changed his expression. He believed that Remy was joking.
Remy wasn't.
* * *
Rogue had never liked flying, not since she had been sucked out of the cockpit door at thirty thousand feet. Had it not been for Nightcrawler she would have plummeted to her doom. As it was she was amazed he had not touched her skin (at the time he did not know of her mutation).
Now, as the 747 climbed to an unknown altitude, Rogue unconsciously dug her fingertips into the armrest. She felt nauseous, but tried to hide her fear.
Remy sat to the left of her, on the isle seat. He had been nice enough to take that seat so that Rogue wouldn't have to worry about a flight attendant accidentally touching her. As it was when the two had gone through airport security Rogue had been questioned. It probably didn't help that she was wearing long sleeves and gloves despite the sweltering July heat.
If she had been at the school Rogue would have climbed onto the roof of the school in her bikini. Or now she might just fly up there. The roof of the school was the only place that the nineteen year old had ever dared to wear her swimwear. Everyplace else was too dangerous. She hated that.
"Would you like something to drink?" the flight attendant asked.
Her words broke Rogue's random thoughts. She turned her head and forced a fake smile. "Yeah, a diet cola," she replied.
The flight attendant handed her a small plastic cup of Diet Coke and crushed ice.
Remy ordered a beer, and promptly paid for it. He turned his head and for a second his eyes met with Rogue's. She gave him a bad look, and then closed her eyes.
Sometimes she couldn't stand the Cajun. He drank and smoked too much for her liking. Rogue had given up trying to get him to quit the first week after they had returned from Genosha. Now her cloths smelt like smoke, as did his. Maybe on this trip she'd give it another shot.
"Would you like a sip?" Remy offered.
"I don't drink, Remy. You know that," Rogue replied.
Remy shrugged his shoulders, then preceded to drink his beer. Rogue turned her head to the window and opened her eyes.
She was worried about Jubilee. And even more so, she feared that when they arrived in New Orleans it would be too late.

Rogue had insisted that Remy and her go to the police station and check on Jubilee's whereabouts before they even checked into a hotel. Remy wasn't thrilled about going to the police station for any reason, but he finally agreed to Rogue's request.
He smiled at her as she walked up the concrete steps that lead into the station.
"You're not coming in?" she asked.
"I may have agreed to come here, but there's no way that I'm going in there. Sorry petit."
Rogue scoffed and rolled her eyes. She continued on her way inside.
Remy stood for a moment, bored beyond belief. After only a few moments a cop hassled him, but Remy merely lied and told the officer that he was waiting for his fiancée's brother to get bailed out. The cop had bought it, and left the X-Man alone. Remy dug his hands into his pocket and removed a cigarette and a box of matches.
As the first breath of nicotine filled his lungs Remy felt a hand grab his arm and pull him into the nearest alley. The cigarette fell from his mouth, and Remy looked around for his attacker.
Remy looked around, and finally he beheld the face of Claude, a thief from the Guild. He could not help but break a smile, and reached into his jacket for another cigarette. "Claude," Remy started. "You scared me. I thought that I was in trouble."
"You are in trouble, mon ami," Claude replied, his voice void of any emotion.
Remy's eyes met Claude's. Two more figures emerged from the shadows. Remy recognized one of the men as a member of the Assassin's Guild.
"Julien wants a word with you," Claude continued.
Remy reached into his pocket and felt around for one of his playing cards.
"If you resist, the girl you came in with will be killed," Claude announced.
Remy looked at the men who surrounded him. He sized them up, and decided that it would be easy to fight his way into the streets, but he didn't know how exactly they planned on killing Rogue. He wasn't ready to take that risk.
As Remy started to walk forward he could see a limousine pull up on the fare side of the alley. Claude escorted him to the end of the alley and into the limousine.
As the doors shut like a damned coffin Remy looked around, observing his surroundings, and praying that Julien had not decided to kill Rogue anyways.

Rogue walked into the police station and instantly believed that she had a mistake. She pulled her coat closer to her body as she glanced at all of the wanted posters. Most of them, she noticed, were mutants with strange nicknames much like her own. "Cyclone", "Urban Menace", "Mace", "Cable", "Titan", "Maverick". Rogue decided that it might be a better idea of she used her real name when talking to the police officers.
She walked up to the receptionist desk and looked at the officer. He was a short man, not more than six and a half feet tall, portly, and Rogue could see that he was balding. He reminded her of Porky Pig, and tried not to smile when he looked down at her.
"May I help you?" the officer asked.
Rogue nodded her head. "Yes, I would like to report a missing person."
The officer nodded. He pulled out a piece of paper and started writing. "What is the name of the person whom you are reporting missing?" he asked.
"Jubilation Lee."
The officer paused and looked up. Rogue could see that he was thinking of something, but she couldn't quite read his emotion. "How do you spell that?" the officer asked.
Rogue spelled Jubilee's name.
"And your name?" the officer asked.
"Marie. Perkins." It had been so long since Rogue had spoken her true name. Even at school, she signed her name as Rogue. Very few of the students (and even less of the staff) knew her true first name, and no one knew her last name.
"Alright," the officer started. "Douglas!"
A tall black police officer walked towards the desk. He was obviously annoyed that the desk officer had called him.
"What is it?" Douglas asked.
"Please take Miss Perkins down to room 14, and then go get Detective Parker."
Douglas eyed the desk officer for a second, and then nodded. "This way Miss Perkins."
He extended his hand, and Rogue believed for a moment that he would grab her. She followed him, making sure to stay a few feet behind, just in case the unforeseen happened.
The tall black officer led her down the hall and finally opened the door to one of the holding rooms.
Alright, don't panic, he's just taking you somewhere private, Rogue thought to herself as she walked into the room.
She jumped as the door shut behind her, and looked around at the ominous room. It wasn't fancy, just like all the interrogation rooms one saw in the movies. Two seats, a desk, creepy, a one-way mirror opposite one of the seats and hot. Rogue took off her jacket, now unable to stand having it on. She still wore long sleeves and gloves. One never could be too careful, especially in unknown areas.
As she was getting ready to sit down in the seat facing away from the Plexiglas the door opened and Rogue watched as an attractive man in his mid- thirties entered the room. He smiled warmly and extended his hand.
"Miss Perkins is it?" he asked, his voice light and friendly.
"Yes, and you are?" Rogue replied. She did not shake his hand. She knew that it was bad manners, but that was something that she never felt comfortable doing, at least not since she discovered her mutation.
"My name is Detective Alexander Parker." The detective did not move his hand for a few minutes. Then, finally understanding that Rogue was not going to shake his hand, he pulled it back and gestured towards the seat that was facing the one-way mirror.
"Please have a seat," he offered.
Rogue did as she was told, and Parker sat in the seat opposite her. It was the first time that Rogue had noticed the detective was holding a file in his hands. He set the file on the table between them and opened it up, trying to make sure that she did not see it's content.
Something was definitely wrong.
"Uh- I'd like to report a missing person," Rogue said.
Parker nodded. Finally his eyes moved from the file to her face, then back at the file.
"My friend, Jubilation, she's been missing for about three weeks. That is long enough to make a report, right?"
Parker nodded again. "Yes, Rogue," he said, not lifting his head from the file.
"God damn it if you're not going to listen to me, get an officer in here that will!"
Parker looked up, a sneer painted his face. Rogue gasped, only now realizing that he had called her by the same name that everyone else did. Her common name.

"Keep still, don't move, and this will all be over soon," Parker ordered as he let the file down. Rogue could see a picture of her from two years ago. She could only assume that the rest of the file was on either her or other X-Men.
Before Parker could move Rogue pulled off her right glove and leapt across the table. She could feel his skin touch her own, and braced herself for the absorption that she knew was coming. Nothing happened. Rogue grunted, removed her hand and put it on his cheek again. Nothing.
Parker started to laugh and pushed her backwards. He reached inside of his pocket and removed his gun.
Rogue stared at him, confused and terrified at the same time. Well if his information is two years old, Rogue thought to herself. The teenage girl levitated herself for a second, and then propelled herself forward like a torpedo. She landed square in Parker's gut, and both she and he went through the one-way window.
Two men in black body gear were in the observation room. Rogue did not land. She kicked one in the head, and threw Parker's limp body at the second one. Rogue looked around, continent with all three of them being unconscious.
Rogue bent down and grabbed one of the handguns, then her jacket, and hid the weapon under her cloths. She hated guns, but one could never be too careful. Finally, Rogue handcuffed all three of the men's' hands together and left the room. She started for the entrance, the same way that she had come in, making sure not to run so she didn't attract more attention to herself than she needed to.
As Rogue turned a corner she saw three more men in the same black body suits as those in the observation room. She jumped back and started searching for another exit.

William Stryker walked into what had been an observation room and looked down, unpleased with what he saw. His inside man, Parker, and two more of his mercenaries lay unconscious on the ground. All were unconscious. Stryker turned to his right.
"Find her!" he ordered.
The two mercenaries at his side nodded and went back into the hall. Stryker leaned down and pulled out his handcuff key. Parker would pay dearly if Rogue escaped.

It only took the limousine twenty-three minutes to drive from the police station to a part of New Orleans that Remy had not visited for years. This was the part of town where thieves were plentiful, and a man's life could be bought for only a few dollars, to the right killer. He could see docks to his left, and even from inside of the car Remy could smell the opium, cocaine, and other drug paraphernalia that was being unloaded. Plenty of legal substances were unloaded from the boats as well, just not in as much abundance as the illegal drugs.
As Remy searched the faces of those who he passed he recognized many. Whores, thieves, assassins, and small business clerks trying to earn an honest living cluttered the busy streets. He was home, although home was not where his heart was.
The door to the car opened, and Remy looked over. He sat Julien step inside, and as suddenly as the car had stopped, it started again.
"Remy," Julien rasped. His voice smelt of old cigarettes mixed with rum.
"Julien," Remy replied, never once breaking eye contact.
"How're you enjoying our southern hospitality?"
Remy did not respond. He wanted to know where Julien was taking him, and how exactly his brother in law had decided to kill him.
"I heard about your partner, Alan. Shame about that. Real shame."
"Did you do it?"
Julien shook his head. "No, I thought you did."
Remy glared back at the leader of the Thieves Guild. He wished that Julien didn't know about his mutation; that would give Remy enough time to charge a card and throw it at him.
"How could you join with them, after what they did to her? She was your own sister, Julien. They killed her to get to me, and you joined with them."
"Forgive and forget, my friend."
"Except when it comes to me."
"Yes. That car bomb was aimed at you. If you hadn't been so drunk that she took away your keys and left she might be alive."
Remy continued to glare.
He did not speak again until after they stopped.

Rogue burst onto the roof of the police station. She had seen two men in black chasing her up the stairs. Although she knew that it would be no problem to knock them both out, she did not know exactly how many men in black there were, and if the police officers were after her as well. Parker certainly had been.
She moved towards the edge, trying to see how far it was the nearest building. Now was not the time to show off her still unfamiliar flying abilities. Too far.
She heard the door open again and turned quickly. As Rogue's head turned a gust of wind started to blow, making her hair fly to her right. The men started towards her. As fare as she could see neither of them was armed.
"Hey, hold up there," the taller one, the black one, started. "You don't have to do that. Just come over here, and we can talk this thing out."
Rogue took another step towards the edge. "Take another step and I'm gonna jump," she threatened.
"Go ahead, bitch!" the second man in black screamed.
The first looked at him, then back at her. "Come on," he started, his voice as calm and warm as the first time he had spoken. "Rogue, we're here to help you, but you have to trust us. Down there, we knew what Detective Parker was planning. Please, just trust us."
"How do you know my name?"
"We know about all about the X-Men. Come on, my name's Aaron Tomas. I know you don't want to die. Just come with us."
Rogue hesitated for a moment. "You're lying."
Aaron stepped towards her again. This time he was reaching for some sort of weapon, although Rogue could not tell what it was. She did not wait to see.
Rogue turned and dropped for a minute, then she was floating. She didn't know exactly how she flew, but she knew that she could do it, and had wonderful control despite the fact that she had only been "flying" for the last three weeks. Within a couple of seconds she was on the ground, unharmed, and fully ready to run if she needed to. She turned her head up and could see Aaron and his buddy standing on the ledge. Aaron had something in his hand, but she could not be sure what it was.
It looked like some sort of a remote or a cell phone, but Rogue could not be sure.
As she turned to find Remy Rogue heard a thunderous boom. Her eyes rushed to the sky again, only this time when she looked up she did not focus on the two men in black that had been chasing her. Now she saw a giant robot coming in for a landing directly above her head.
Rogue jumped out of the way of the robot's foot and looked up to get a second view. How in the hell? she thought to herself.
She knew what the robot was, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. It was a Sentinel.
"Halt, Mutant," the robot ordered in a synthetic voice.
So they talk too, huh?
Rogue flew into the air, ready to deliver a swift punch to the Sentinel's freakish face. It lifted its arm, as if it knew what she was planning already, and shot an energy wave at her. Rogue fell from the sky into the streets below.
By now there were people running in terror. She could hear men and women screaming, horrified that the robot might come after them next.
The enormous android lumbered towards her, knocking over a phone pool as it did. It fell, and Rogue could see a small child in the telephone poll's path. She flew forward as fast as she could, grabbing the child and knocking her out of the way, making sure that at no time their skin touched.
For a second, the two were safe, and Rogue watched as the child's parents ran towards her. The parents paused for a moment, looking at Rogue the way that most humans did when they saw a mutant, then ran on their way, their child held tightly in their arms.
Rogue turned, and again she could see the Sentinel preparing to fire another pulse. She flew into the air, and this time the pulse missed. A spray of water spewed from what used to be a fire hydrant.
She sat down and looked up again. The Sentinel looked around, momentarily losing track of where Rogue had gone. Rogue took the opportunity to strike.
Once again she sprang into the air, her right hand in the air. As she came to the Sentinel she extended her left hand, and heard a crash as her fist collided with the robot. This model, however, was made out of plastic, not metal. And it did not bend, nor crack. It turned its head at a one hundred and eighty degree angle, focusing on her.
Rogue hovered in the air for a moment, trying to think of her next move. As she did the Sentinel's eyes started to glow.
"Crap," Rogue whispered as she saw two laser beams shoot from the robot's eyes. She tried to move out of the way, but the beams curved towards her. Heat-seekers.
Rogue could feel the impact of the beams. And then she was falling. It seemed like an eternity before her body crashed into the ground. She could see that some of her cloths had been torn. Her right cheek was torn, blood trickling down onto the ground below her. She tried stand up, but could barely move.
She felt the Sentinel's cold hand grapple her from behind. It lifted her into the air, and Rogue drifted into sleep.

The door to the limousine opened and Julien directed Remy out. As the former member of the Thieves Guild exited he watched Claude walk towards them. "Sir," Claude started as he leaned into the limousine, "the girl that the assassins were watching turned out to be a mutant herself. Another group of unidentified men abducted her using some sort of a giant robot. The assassins are attempting to track the machine, but wish to know how to proceed."
"I will contact them myself," Julien responded. "Take him into the swamps and meet me back in town."
Claude nodded and turned back towards Remy. Within seconds the limousine took off, and all that was left was a pickup truck, Remy, Claude and another member the Assassin's Guild who Remy did not know. Claude pulled a revolver from his jacket and pointed it at Remy. "This way," he ordered.
Remy turned as instructed. He was lead into the darkness of the swamp, where many things lived. His eyes glanced from treetop to the bog, then back to the trees. There were scavengers observing them, waiting to see which of the three would die, and which would leave in the truck.
"Listen to me, Claude," Remy started. "I know what your doing, but you don't have to. We're thieves, you and I, not assassins. You don't need to do this."
"Shut up!" Claude shouted.
He hit Remy on the back of the neck with the butt of his gun. Remy stumbled for a step, and then regained his footing.
"Please, Claude, don't do this."
"He said shut up!" the assassin shouted.
Remy fell to his knees. He started crying, the last desperate act of a man with no other escape. "Please, please, Claude, don't do it! Please, I'll do anything! Don't kill me, please!"
"Don't do this Remy," Claude whispered.
The assassin laughed. "The great Remy LeBeau, begging for his life. Let him beg!"
"Claude, please. I-I'll do anything. I'll leave New Orleans and never return. I'll go to France, Russia, anywhere. Just tell me."
"Get up Remy!"
"Legendary, blah."
"Claude!" Remy turned around, still on his knees. He started pulling at the Claude's legs.
"Get off of me!" Claude shouted, kicking Remy away.
Remy's body rolled for a moment, and he was still. Tears still fell from his eyes.
"I've heard enough," the assassin laughed. "Finish him here."
Remy could hear Claude approaching him. His hands dug into the ground, tense. He listened, and heard the gun cock. And now was his time.
Remy turned around quickly, throwing a handful of kinetically charged dirt as he did. Claude screamed as the dirt exploded in his face. He fell to the ground, and Remy could see that both of his eyes had been damaged. The gun fell from Claude's hands as he grasped his burnt face.
Remy was up, his hand clasping over the revolver. The assassin was still stunned, amazed at what he had seen. But now he was regaining his concentration. The assassin reached inside of his jacket to pull out his own automatic pistol. As the pistol was torn free of it's holster Remy fired, emptying the revolver into the assassin.
The assassin fired back, barely able to get two shots off before dying. One of the bullets grazed the side of Remy's head. The other hit Claude in the back of the neck. As suddenly as the gunfight had started it was over. Both the assassin and Claude were dead in the shallow bog. Remy dropped the revolver into the water and rushed to Claude's side.
It was too late to save his friend, but Remy found the keys to the pickup with no problems. He stood up and wiped away his fake tears, then ran back to where they had left the truck.
It was time to save Rogue.

Chapter Two
He had rode on a bike that did not belong to him for nearly a three weeks, and he had still not located Chester Blanchard. Logan, the Wolverine, now sat inside of a bar like thousands of other bars that He thumbed through the cards in his hand; two jacks, a king, and two tens. Playing poker was hardly gambling for Logan.
He had taught himself how to spot people's "tells". Whether a man's body temperature rose when he made a bluff, or he breathed heavier or less, Logan caught it. And if a man had absolutely no tells; Logan could sometimes see the reflection of his opponents cards in their eyes.
The man who sat across from Logan had no tells, and was smart enough to keep his cards lying down on the table.
"Bet's to you," the dealer informed Logan.
"I know," Logan rasped back. He took the cigar from his mouth and exhaled. He liked to take his time before betting. It gave his opponents time to wonder what he had. Logan had already planned on raising the pot one hundred dollars. His eyes gazed to the other three players.
The man to his right was stringy, and any amateur with an eye for a tell could read his emotions. The dealer's temperature had a tendency to rise whenever he was bluffing, thus omitting a rather subtle scent that only Logan could detect. But the man across from Logan, he was harder to read. Logan did not like him. The man across from Logan reminded him of himself.
"Raise one hundred dollars," Logan finally announced.
The man to the right shuffled though his chips and threw out a hundred dollars worth. "Call," he said. Logan knew he had nothing.
"Call," the man across from Logan announced.
"I'm out," the dealer announced.
They went across the table, Logan took only one card; the man to his right took three; and the man across from Logan took none.
"Bet's to you," the dealer said again.
Logan looked at his card. Another ten. Not the best hand he could have had, but it was better than two pair. He placed his cards on the table and took another long drag off of his stub of a cigar.
"Check," Logan announced.
"Ah, I- I'll bet one hundred and fifty dollars," the man to his right said. Logan guessed that he was trying to buy the pot, but the man to his right had bid too little to do that, and both Logan and the man across from him could spot the bluff.
"I'll raise you, five hundred."
"Six hundred and fifty to you, stranger," the dealer announced.
I can add, Logan thought. He wanted to say it out loud, but hated to lose his temper at poker. "Raise four fifty," Logan announced, throwing the appropriate chips onto the pile.
"I-I call," the man to his right announced. Maybe the weasel had a pair of aces.
"Raise five hundred."
"Raise two fifty."
"I'm out."
Now it was time for the man across from Logan to bet. Their eyes met in an unblinking stare. For a second nothing else existed except the two, and their cards. A thin cloud of smoke escaped from Logan's lips, creating a barrier between the two.
"All in," the man across from Logan announced.
Logan paused for a moment and stood up. He paced back and forth for a second, but already had made up his mind that he was going to play. He started to gnaw on his cigar. Finally Logan sat down and put the appropriate chips into the center.
"Call."
The man across from him glared back and showed his cards.

Logan came out of the bar much richer than when he had entered. A new cigar was in his mouth, filling his lungs with its poisonous fumes. Lucky for him his body regenerated any damage the cigars could do. He paused for a moment, watching the night sky, surveying it for dangers. It had been a habit of his that he believed he would never be cured of.
Finally content that no danger was near Logan walked down the wooden steps of the bar to the dirt parking lot below and finally mounted his motorcycle.
The wind rushed at his face as he flew down the highway. It did not matter to where. He was desperate. desperate to remember his past. Now, in his new life, he only wanted to forget. Somewhere, inside his invisible body, he felt pain.
Jean.
The memory of her face sprang into his mind like an unseen assassin. Their attraction had been so natural, so primal, and yet so genuine. Within seconds Logan found himself trying to silence his thoughts of her. For almost two years he had been successful, why wasn't it working now?
The motorcycle turned a corner. He could feel her lips pressing against his again. He felt her warmth flowing through his veins. At that moment he had been whole. At that moment he didn't need to remember his past. His future was enough.
Another corner. The motorcycle's speed reached over one hundred miles per hour. The feeling of her bare skin against his. Her warm fingertips touching his bare chest, even if it was just as a doctor looks after her patient.
A third corner. The loss. He watched as the waters from Alkali spewed forward, engulfing her small and fragile body. A water serpent swallowed her whole, and then she was gone. Jean was dead.
A forth corner. This time, though, Logan could see someone in front of him. He turned the bike as best as he could and felt it skid forward. Logan's body fell onto the pavement, his skin and veins cut, gashed, and scraped as he rolled along the road. On two occasions he could hear the pavement collide with his metal skull.
He lay still. Had he been almost anyone else he would surely have been dead. He groaned, barely able to move. Logan attempted to focus his eyes on the figure that had been in the road in front of him, but his eyes were not working. He waited, and within seconds they refocused.
"Whoever that was better be gone by the time I get up," Logan groaned as his flesh reconstructed itself.
Finally, only minutes after the accident, Logan regained use of his body. He turned towards the figure, still not fully healed. His limbs froze, and for a moment Logan believed that he had truly passed on. Only after the stabbing pain rushed through his body yet again did Logan realize he was still alive.
But what he saw, it was impossible. It couldn't be.
She bent down to him. Her red hair seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her smile melted away his pain. She reached forward; her hand touching his chin as lovers touch, and he could smell her. It had been two years, and yet the memory of her scent was as clear as day. If this was a shape- shifter, it was the best one he'd ever encountered.
"Jean," he whispered, barely willing to utter her name out loud for fear that the phantasm would disappear.
But she stayed. Her smile did not fade. Not even for a moment. Her gaze met his.
Yes, Logan, it's me, she whispered to him, although her lips did not move. He sensed her presence even inside of him now.
Logan got to his feet, unwilling to be overpowered by the vision that threatened to disappear at any moment. "Jean. you're. how. Jean?" he stumbled, not certain what to say first. Emotions had never been his strong point.
She stood up and nodded. His eyes gazed up at her, and for the first time Logan saw that she had no pupils. Logan took a step back. For a moment he considered extending his claws. This demon that had taken the form of Jean may be out to do him harm.
Logan, Jean started. A time of great pain is upon us. Kill him.
"Who?" Logan whispered.
As he spoke Jean burst into flame, and yet at the same time the flames did not touch her body. She started to drift away from him, and although her eyes were absent of pupils he knew her gaze never left him.
Kill him, Logan.
Jean continued to float towards the sky, and Logan followed as much as he dared. When the last ember of her body disappeared into the night's sky he finally fell to his knees.
"Who is he?" Logan asked to the empty sky. Even as he did, he knew he would receive no response.

Hours later Logan found himself in something that might be considered a small town. There wasn't much, simply a motel, a couple of stores, a gasoline station, and an auto mechanic's. The mechanic's light was still on, but it didn't seem to be open. Logan could have fixed the motorcycle himself with the right tools, but he figured that he'd barter a price in the morning. Now he was too tired.
He entered the motel office and looked around. It was nothing glamorous. A nine-inch television set hung in the corner; the news was on. The interior was decorated with fake wood. A fern of some sort sat dying in the corner opposite corner of the television. And of course, across from the door sat the manager's desk, vacant.
Logan walked up to the desk and hit down hard on the bell. He waited for a moment, and then rang on the bell again. As he did an old man with a wild gray mustache and deep sunken eyes came into the room with him. The man looked slightly confused, as if he didn't know where he was. He belched as long as he could hold a burp, and then managed a drunken smile.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.
Logan groaned, still recovering from the stench on the man's breath. "Yeah, I'd like a room."
"Of course." The man turned around, scratched himself, the came back to the desk with a record book. "Please sign your John Hancock, and I need forty-two dollars in advance."
Logan smiled. He loved small towns. You could rent a room for the night with no ID and for only a few dollars. He paid, and then proceeded to the appropriate room. Within seconds of setting his head on the pillow Logan was asleep.

Earl McKenna could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the stranger come into his hotel. But sure enough, it was him, the man whom Earl had been told to look out for. The small town hotel manager went to his phone and picked it up. He squinted and peered at the "Wanted" picture again.
"Hello?" a raspy voice answered from the other side of the line.
"Hello," Earl started. "You still looking for that Logan guy?"
"Tell me what you know."

Logan could hear motorcycle's approaching. An entire gang, he wagered. Just don't come looking for trouble here, he thought to himself. He was about to go back to sleep when the windows shattered. Logan's eyes opened, and he was instantly alert.
Smoke. Escape.
He grabbed his shirt from off the chair and raced to the door. Then hesitation. Through the smoke and confusion Logan could smell gunpowder. There must have been about twenty of them. He could hear their hearts pounding in anticipation. They were waiting, for him.
Logan extended his claws, growling as he did. So they wanted to play.
The door to the hotel room opened and Logan stepped onto the porch. No shouts of warning were given. No cries were shouted for him to surrender. They merely opened fire, and suddenly the night was ablaze. Logan dove back into his hotel room. He knew that staying out there in the open was suicide, even with his healing ability.
The gunfire did not slow despite his absence. Bullets whizzed past him, some so close that he could feel the wind rushing past him. A few of them hit him, but instantly bounced off of his bones and the wound was healed.
He was on the other side of the room, finally. And with only a few swipes of his blade the wall in front of him disappeared. The task might have been difficult, if his assassin's hadn't blown the wall to little more than Swiss cheese. Logan crawled through to the other side and rested for a second, carefully calculating what he was going to do next.
"Grenade!" one of the gunners shouted.
Logan's time to think had expired. He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could away from the motel.
"There he goes!" another gunner shouted over the explosion that rattled Logan's ears.
Logan felt a slug rip through his shoulder and screamed. He turned and saw that one of the attackers was already on his motorcycle. As the motorcycle charged Logan froze in an attack position. The biker did not stop. Instead he pulled a metallic whip from his belt and swung it around.
Logan took a swipe for him, missing barely, but barely was too much. As he swung his arm through the air the biker grappled his arm with the whip. He never slowed down. Logan felt his body lurch forward with the speed of the bike, the whip closing in on his hand. He tried to swipe at the whip with his free hand, but the chain did not break.
Adamantium?
He put his feet down, and the biker fell from his motorcycle. Logan unwrapped his hand before the biker could attack again. The biker stood, his features hidden underneath a black handkerchief with spotted with diamonds. His eyes were masked by sunglasses. He had bleached blond hair. He rolled up his whip and cracked it again.
Logan felt his own blood falling down his face. It did not matter. Within seconds the wound had healed.
The biker cracked the whip twice more, both times missing Logan. There was no doubt in his mind that the master of the whip had missed on purpose. This man knew what he was doing.
Logan spread his arms, making sure that the biker was aware of his blades. The biker took a step back, then regained his the same deadlock position that he had ascertained earlier. Logan could hear the other members of the biker's gang approaching. He could feel the heat of their glare, observing him, sizing him up.
How many?
Logan heard a gunshot. He turned, attempting to dodge it. The dart hit him in the gut, just to the right of his navel. Whatever it was, it didn't hit right. He took the dart out and threw it back, but missed. The gang members laughed.
One of them came close to him, not the master of the whip, but one of his servants. He laughed and Logan, moving close and then away.
"Nickel, knock it off!" one of the men shouted.
"What's he gonna do about it? He's on an acid trip!" the one closest to Logan shouted back. He walked close to Logan and put his hand on the mutant's forehead. "Ain't that right, Logan?"
Logan growled and punched his right claws into the side of Nickel. Another gunshot and another dart. Whatever it was they were shooting at him it didn't do shit. Logan felt the crack of the whip in his back. He grabbed Nickel with his left hand and stabbed him again with his right. A second crack of the whip made Logan flinch, but when he tore his claws from Nickel this time he pulled down, slicing down the front of Nickel's dying body. A third dart. Logan threw Nickel's body to the ground. He was dead.
He started forward, ignoring the pain and humility that the gang had caused him. They wouldn't capture him, not without a fight. The laughing had subsided. Now they watched, intrigued at how much more he could take of their miserable excuse for a toxic serum.
One of them who wielded a gun got off of his bike and stepped in front of Logan, his arm outstretched. He fired, and Logan felt the point of a needle crunch against his skull. He swung his left hand, cutting the gun in two. The next one swipe was going to kill the biker that had just tried to attack him.
Logan felt his back tears as the whip behind him cracked again. He turned towards the master of the whip, glaring. A fifth dart hit him in the back, just below his shoulder. He fell to the ground, and heard the biker's dismounting their vehicles.
"Stay away from him!" the leader shouted as he started to lace up his whip.
Logan fell to the ground; unable to keep his eyes open any longer. They had won. He was captured.

Logan's dreams were the same as they always had been. Men stood around him, joking, laughing. Others stood with medical masks on, playing with lasers, preparing the adamantium. The dream was the same as always. Every time he could feel the pain of the operation again.
An instant later he was free. He lifted his upper body out of the water, gasping for air. The lines they had drawn on his flesh were still visible. And then, when his hands flexed just so, the claws extended, his claws. For a moment his fists were filled with agonizing pain. Then he dug the claws deep into the flesh of the nearest scientist.
He was outside. In the cold. In the snow. Barely dressed. He was born, full grown, and dangerous. A freak.
This time, the dream was different though. Now he was inside of the Xavier school. He looked around, observing his surroundings. The plain wood halls were just as they had been when he left. No carnage was present. It was now. He looked at the mirror to his right.
"When're you going to kill him?" his reflection asked harshly.
Logan starred back, unsure how to answer. He flexed his fist, hoping to extend his claws so he could destroy the mirror. Nothing. Nothing happened. His claws were not there.
"Wolverine!" a voice called.
He did not have to turn to know who was speaking. The soft hint of a southern accent combined with an uncompassionate disdain for mutant kind could only belong to one man.
Stryker.
Logan turned.
The shorter man stared back at him through the same thin-framed glasses he had been wearing when they had encountered each other last. His thick build was deceptive of how strong he could actually be. Stryker lifted a gun into the air. The gunshot was defining.
Logan looked down, waiting for the wound to heal. He started to bleed, and bleed fast. Stryker had shot him in a vital spot. Within seconds Logan fell to his knees.
This can't be happening, he told himself. I can't die. Not like this. I-I'm a mutant.
"Good-bye, Wolverine," Stryker said as a sadistic smile stretched the length of his face.

Logan lurched forward, awake. The dream, it had been different. Much different than it had been.
His hands had been tied to some sort of a cross with ropes at the wrists, and those had been covered with heavy chains. His shirt had been removed. He suspected that for some reason or other he was about to be tortured. He could stand torture.
He looked around, taking an inventory of what was in the room. All that he could see was a welding torch and an above ground pool. Judging by the fumes that the pool omitted it was some sort of acid.
Guess that explains the bad dreams, Logan chuckled.
"So you're awake!" a man said from behind Logan.
"Yeah, asshole, I'm awake," Logan replied.
He watched as several members of the gang walked in front of him, including the master of the whip. They were accompanied by a man in a suit.
"You're calling me an asshole?" the suit asked. He had been the one speaking earlier.
Logan nodded, his gaze always meeting the suit's eyes.
The suit pulled a knife from inside of his jacket and stabbed Logan. He quickly removed the knife and watched as Logan's wound healed.
Logan groaned. "That was a mistake. You make another one, and it's gonna cost you your life. Got it, bub?"
"Do you even remember who I am?" the suit demanded.
"Can't say I do."
The suit reached to his inside coat pocket and removed a photograph of a small child. "How about her, you remember her?" he demanded as he flashed the picture in front of Logan's face.
"Sorry, buddy. You got the wrong guy."
The suit stabbed Logan again.
"The wrong guy? The wrong guy! No way you're the wrong guy, Logan! No way! I'd remember you anywhere! I trusted you! She trusted you!" The suit screamed and stabbed Logan once more. He threw the knife aside and went to the table that the welding torch was on and returned with the tool in hand. "You took everything from me, you shit! After twenty years you want to come back here? Were you planning on finishing me off now?"
Logan groaned for a second. He knew where he was now, Chester Blanchard's. After almost a month of searching he had found him. At the beginning of his journey Logan hadn't know exactly how the old man would respond to his presence, but apparently the former senator had done well for himself. Considering his age, Blanchard looked well. Logan guessed that he survived only on hate and vengeance.
"I've had twenty years to decide what I'm going to do to you, Logan! Twenty years! First, I'm going to torch your skin!"
As he spoke the gang member's moved forward and started pouring gasoline on him.
"Then, when you're almost all the way healed, I'm going to crush whatever's left. And if you're not dead then, I'm going to put you in that pool of acid. Sound pleasant? I think the entire thing can last at least thirteen hours. What do you think?"
Logan's eyes met Blanchard's. This time it was not as an enemy, but as a man who had wronged another. "I think I'm sorry that your daughter is dead," Logan said truthfully.
"You're sorry? You're sorry? Damn your sorry's!"
Blanchard turned on the welding torch and started to move it towards Logan's skin. In a second his flesh was ablaze, but he was not burning. He could feel the heat of the fire, but it formed a protective field around him. Logan looked up, and saw that most of the heat was accumulating on the chains that were not touching his skin. Finally the chains broke and fell to the floor.
The flames were alive now, neither touching nor harming Logan. His flesh was completely dry. The flames leapt forward, exploding the gas canister that fueled the welding torch. Members of the gang and Blanchard were thrown, but very little damage was done to Logan. But the flames did not stop.
As Blanchard got to his feet Logan watched the flames form a sort of serpent.
"Watch out!" he screamed, holding out his hand as if he would stop the flames before they struck their fatal blow.
An instant later Blanchard was burning from head to toe. With him died yet another lead into Logan's past. The flames continued on, striking down members of the gang with every movement. It was as if the fire itself had become a demon that was there to protect Logan.
The master of the whip cracked his weapon, slicing down Logan's back. He stepped forward, screaming indistinctly as Logan. As he shouted Logan saw the fire melting the pool of acid, which sprayed onto the face of the master of the whip. He screamed and fell backwards.
Logan ran to the door, determined to escape the hell that had become in the torture chamber. He stumbled into the streets, uncertain where to go. For a second Logan turned and looked at the house he had just exited. It was ablaze, and being consumed quickly.
"Wolverine," the voice of a young man screamed. Logan turned and looked. John Allardyce smiled back warmly.

The leader of the biker gang stumbled out of the back door to the house. He fell to the ground, patting out the flames that had almost totally engulfed his right leg. The acid had burned his face, but other than that he was relatively unscathed.
He looked back inside, happy that Blanchard had died first. His friends had trusted the senator to tell them everything about Logan. Everything. How could he be so stupid not to know Logan could control fire?
Next time he would be prepared. Next time he would fight Logan not for money, but for vengeance.

Logan sat for a long time coughing out the soot that coated his lungs. When he was finally standing he looked once again at Pyro.
"Is there something that I can do for you, kid?" Logan asked.
"Not for me."
Logan managed a smile.
"Magneto."
Pyro nodded. "He wants to meet with you. As a representative of the country of Genosha I'd like to request your presence in our court."

"Your court?"
"And yours too. We need mutants like you, Wolverine."
"You tell Magneto to go to hell."
Pyro raised his arm and grabbed Logan by the arm. "We're not asking you to make a decision right away. We just want you to come to the island, see what you think, and then you can decide when you're ready."
Logan paused for a moment. It would be a good chance to find out exactly what Magneto was up to. At least this way if his old enemy ever tried something the X-Men would have some sort of knowledge about the country Magneto was in now.
He thought back to Liberty, when Magneto had captured Rogue. He should have killed him then, when he had a chance. But if he had then right now Logan and every other mutant on earth would be dead. Magneto was definitely not to be trusted. And Logan was sure that if he went to the criminal's "country" he'd have at least a couple of surprises in store for him.
But he was The Wolverine.
"Alright," Logan finally agreed. "I'll go."
Pyro nodded pleasantly. "Okay, there's a helicopter waiting for us. It's about a twenty minute drive from here."
Logan nodded and followed the boy as he went to a parked car. It was not until the car was moving that he had a sudden and terrible thought.
How did Magneto know where he was?

Toad stood with his arms crossed and leaning against the helicopter patiently. He had already read all of the magazine that he had brought along with him for the ride, now he was just thinking of getting back to Genosha and finding those two women he'd been talking to before. He looked around again; making sure that no one would come and arrest him. The mutant had known the dangers of coming back into America. He was a wanted man, and if anyone found him he'd be arrested on sight.
He flicked his tongue and grabbed the fly nearest him, then took the bug back to his mouth and continued to chew it. Just a small snack while he waited. On their way back he'd stop and get a full meal. If the others chose to eat then or not it would be their decision.
Just as Toad had decided what he was going to eat a car pulled close to the helicopter and stopped. Pyro got out and smiled at his pilot, and Wolverine got out just behind him. Finally someone who can bring people back when they're supposed to, Toad thought.
One reason he was glad that Sabertooth had not come with them. Pyro was good at getting things done. Sabertooth was just good at screwing things up, and making Toad's life more difficult.
"Are we leaving?" Toad asked.
Pyro nodded. He went to the helicopter and opened the Plexiglas door for Wolverine. When both of his passengers were inside, Toad got into the cockpit and started the helicopter up.
"How long is this going to take?" Wolverine asked.
"Almost a day!" Toad replied, tapping his headpiece.
"So why're you smiling?" Wolverine asked.
Toad turned his head. "I get paid by the mile."
Wolverine smiled at the joke, although Toad guessed it was artificial. Not that it mattered to him. He was not getting paid to entertain anyone, least of all mutants who were friends with that bitch who shocked the hell out of him on Liberty.

It was after dark on the following day that the helicopter set down on the shores of Genosha. As Logan looked around, he found it more and more hard to believe that this was the same island it had been when he left it only a few weeks ago. What had been only a relatively small island with a few stores had transformed itself into a booming metropolitans city- country. The buildings were composed mainly of metal (Logan guessed that they had magneto to thank for that). The streets were crowded with many people, most of whom walked.
Some looked normal, and at first glance it was hardly evident that they were mutants. Others had scales, unnatural fur, feathers, wings, fins, antennae and even trunks. Every race, color, and heritage imaginable was living all close together, within the same street, excepting one another. He could see places of religious worship, and men on street corners with signs of Armageddon. Truly, this island had become the focal point of all mutant interest, and Logan could not help but be impressed.
The helicopter set down, and Logan was happy to get out and stretch his legs. He had the chance to do so only once curing the flight. Without a word Toad got out of the vehicle and went on his own way. Logan guessed that he was tired, and didn't blame the pilot. They had been flying for almost thirty-six hours. While he and Pyro had been sleeping, Toad had to stay awake and fly.
Pyro put his hand on Logan's shoulder and smiled, breathing in the familiar scents of his homeland. "Welcome to Genosha," he said. "Come, let me show you some of the nightlife."
Pyro lead Logan off of the helipad and down through the building. They only had stairs, and Logan noticed that the town was entirely lit by torches. Probably hadn't set up any electricity yet, but he was sure it was on Magneto's "to do" list. When they stepped onto the street Logan felt as if he were in down town New York in the eighteen hundreds. He could hear music from various nightclubs, as well as the sounds of drunks and younger mutants causing trouble. Apparently, this was the business district of the island. He guessed that elsewhere was where people would go to sleep in apartments or houses.
"We have yet to have any serious crime," Pyro started.
"Mostly cause you don't have too many laws."
Pyro forced a smile, and then continued on his tour. He pointed out several buildings of interest, none of them Logan had bothered to remember. They passed a street band and exotic entertainers. Finally, Pyro stopped in front of what appeared to be a hotel.
"This is where you'll be staying. The manager's expecting you, and we've already made arrangements for your room. The bill has been taken care of."
Logan nodded. He couldn't deny that he was tired, and it had been too long since he had slept in a real bed. Without saying a word he stepped inside. As he did he was instantly greeted by a man with bluish gray scales covering his body.
"Mr. Wolverine, yessss?" the man asked.
"Yeah," Logan replied.
"Thissss way, pleassse." The scaled man led Wolverine up a flight of stairs and showed him into a room. Room one zero three. "Isss there anything you need, sssir?"
"No thank you," Logan replied.
He walked inside of the room, half expecting to be ambushed. Instead he found a simple room. Candles had been lit on a dresser. There was a bag of cloths in plain sight. The bed had been made up nice, and to his surprise it was very comfortable. Logan went to the window, glancing out at the crowd below. He simply couldn't believe how many of them there were. Maybe Magneto had been right all along. Maybe this was the best way for a mutant to live.

Logan felt an unexpected wave of sleep wash over him within minutes of arriving on the strange island. He would not sleep heavily here, but then again he never had slept heavily, as best as he could remember.
As the hours past dreams came to him. He was in a barren world; one that he could barely recognize as earth. The grass did not grow, however there was something that could be qualified as sand lining the ground, for it was stained red. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds riddled with random lightning flashes. The light was followed with thunderous clashes.
A light breeze blew through the air, and Logan could see what had once been a city. As he continued forward Logan could see graves, and he could feel a shiver run down his spine as he read the names. "Charles Xavier", "Hank McCoy" as well as numerous others who had been either employees or students of the Xavier School For the Gifted marked the graves.
The wind blew again, and Logan could see skeletons. But the most horrific of sights he beheld was that of an Adamantium skull lying next to Xavier's tombstone.

The hours past and finally morning came. On several occasions Logan had woke during the night. He swore that he felt his bones tense under the same magnetic pull he felt every time he encountered Magneto. Finally he got dressed and went down to the streets. Pyro was already waiting for him.
"How did you sleep?" Pyro asked.
"Miserably," Logan replied.
"Sorry to hear that. Come on, Magneto wants to speak to you."
Logan nodded and followed. The crowded night streets had dissolved into slow traffic as people walked to their various jobs. It did not take the two long to reach their destination.
The building looked like some sort of power plant. Mutants worked all around, connecting metallic wires and setting up boards. Logan suspected that they were preparing to turn the power on. Pyro continued forward, not saying a word to any of the mutants that they passed. Finally the two of them came to a room with five mutants. One was Mystique, one was Magneto, one was Sabertooth, and one Logan did not recognize. The fifth was Jubilee.
Logan extended his claws and growled. He felt a magnetic pull on his bones, and the claws retracted. Magneto.
The eldest of the mutants present turned around, smiling warmly. "Logan, how good of you to join us. When Pyro announced you were coming I didn't quite believe it."
"What are you up to, Magneto?" Logan demanded.
Magneto looked around innocently. "Right now, we're trying to turn the power on for Genosha. Jubilee has been gracious enough to lend us her powers for this task."
"Let her go. now and I'll let you walk out of here."
"She can leave whenever she wants, isn't that right Jubilee?"
The Asian girl nodded. She looked at Logan scornfully, as if he had insulted her.
"What have you done to her?"
"He's done nothing!" Jubilee started. "He's done nothing but give me a purpose. That's more than Xavier ever offered."
"Logan, please," Magneto started. "I don't want a fight. Mystique can oversee this project from here. Please, come with me."
Logan hesitated. He hated that Magneto had control over every move that he made. To his surprise, however, the strain that had been on his claws was relaxed. Logan found that he still had full mobility of all of his body parts.
"Please," Magneto replied.
Logan paused for another minute, then looked back at Jubilee. "I'm not leaving this island without you."
Logan turned, following Magneto at a few paces distance. He didn't like the setup. His suspicions were correct. Magneto was definitely up to something.
"I know you don't trust me," Magneto started. "And I haven't really given you any reason to. I was against you on Liberty, I betrayed you at Alkali, I've taken in students of yours, and I even killed a major link to your past.
"But I'm asking you to trust me now, Wolverine." Magneto paused and turned around. "The mutants here, they're good people. But we need laws. And we need mutants to enforce those laws."
"Are you saying that you want me to be some sort of a cop?"
"Exactly. Think about it, we'd start you off with a generous salary, a home, and you could even choose your own task force. You may even recruit from within the X-Men, if they desire to become citizens of Genosha."
"Are you nuts? After what you did to Rogue-"
"As I recall my intentions with Rogue and Charles were foiled by you and the X-Men."
"After what you tried to do with Rogue you want me. you expect me to work with you?"
Magneto paused. He started to move so that he was between Logan and the workers in the power plant. "Look at them, Wolverine. They have leadership, but I am an old man. Ten years, maybe less, I'll be gone. You know that, I know that. They need protection from the outside world, but every man woman and child here would be willing to defend this island with their lives. And, sure enough, soon they will need protection from themselves. Who would you have be in charge of this operation? Sabertooth? He is a great warrior, but you know as well as I that he cannot operate piece on his own. As much as I hate to say it, neither can Pyro. I was hoping that my son, Quicksilver, would lead, but he and his sister bare me ill will."
"Quicksilver's your son?"
"You know him? Please, tell me that he hasn't started working with Charles."
Logan snickered. "No. Nothing like that. We just had a brief meeting." Although now that he thought about it he could see how Quicksilver resembled the man standing in front of him.
"Will you help us, Wolverine?" Magneto asked, no returning to the subject at hand. Logan knew that Magneto was not easily sidetracked. "Will you help us preserve the piece on Genosha?"

"You're nuts." Logan pushed past him, and then paused. "How do I get off of this insane island?"
"Toad will fly you to the mainland, of course. Anywhere you like."
Logan turned. For a brief moment he thought of how humorous it had seemed to him when he first heard of the X-Men having nicknames. Now everywhere he turned mutants had taken their own names. Toad he remembered, but wasn't sure he trusted. Either way, Logan suspected, in a fair one on one fight he could take Toad.
"Fine. Get him."
"I'm afraid he's still tired from the flight yesterday," Magneto announced. "Please, stay until at least tomorrow. Give yourself some time to think about it. If you feel the same way tomorrow, then Toad will fly you."
Logan felt as if he was being tricked somehow, but didn't see any other choice.
"Alright," he said. "Tomorrow. But if you double cross me you'll need a lot more than magnetism to keep me from getting you."
Magneto nodded pleasantly. "Please feel free to wonder the island. Any stores or restaurants you visit, tell them that I will cover your bill."
Logan nodded back, trying not to look too concerned with what Magneto had said. This was a mistake, he thought to himself.

"Want me to follow him?" Sabertooth asked as soon as Wolverine was out of the power plant.
"No," Magneto replied. "Let him go out on his own. I want him to witness for himself what we are trying to accomplish here. If you do see him, be courteous, and continue on your way."
Sabertooth growled, his lack of approval evident to his master. Suddenly he snapped at attention.
"Don't think I have forgotten that metal is in your bones as well. You will do as I say, Sabertooth." Magneto released the adamantium in Sabertooth's bones.
"He doesn't know that," Sabertooth muttered as he walked away.

Jubilee sat on the shoreline just as she had the first evening she arrived on Genosha. Now her thoughts were the same as they had been then. She was glad that Magneto had let her of off work early today. Seeing Wolverine had just made her feel so confused. He had told her that all of the X-Men were dead.
But he had no way of knowing that some of them made it way. How could he? After all, Magneto and his men hadn't even arrived until after the fighting was over and all the graves had been dug. But if Wolverine was alive, who else was? Kitty, Rogue, Bobby, even mister Wagner could all still be alive. She hated not knowing.
Lance sat down next to her, crossing his legs slightly. "You okay?" Lance asked.
Jubilee turned towards him, only now knowing of his presence. "Yeah, yeah. I feel fine. Just thinking."
"Want to vent?"
Jubilee smiled. "No thanks, this is one of those things I need to sort our for myself."
"Want to surf?"
She chuckled sincerely. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Even with all that you have here, the safety and acceptance, the great job and benefits, if you found out that your family was still alive, would you leave?"
"In a heartbeat."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too."
She paused for a moment, staring off into the sea. In the distance the two of them could see dolphins playing. Jubilee wished she could swim out to them and just forget about life for an hour or two.
"You're going with him, The Wolverine, right?"
Jubilee nodded. "I am. The school, up there, it's my whole life. If even only some of them are still alive, I need to go back."
"Want company?"
"That's okay. Magneto needs you down here. He needs you to build his mutant safe haven."
Lance nodded. "Want some company until you leave then?"
Jubilee's hand met his. "That would be great."

Pyro watched from a distance as Jubilee announced she was leaving. He was furious. First Rogue, and now Jubilee. How dare they defy him? What did she even see in that guy Lance? Pyro knew himself to be twice as handsome and intelligent than that redneck.
"Go back and play with your tractor," Pyro muttered to himself.
Jubilee was his. Magneto had promised that she would be his. And now Lance, the hick from Louisiana was going to steal her from him! He didn't think so. Pyro pulled his lighter from his pocket. His lucky lighter. He started to flick the cover open then closed, and open again. He was developing a plan.
And once Lance is out of the way she will be mine, Pyro thought to himself.

Logan had spent much of his day searching the island. Despite his outrage at Magneto, he was truly curious about the island itself. Everyplace seemed so open, so trusting. Not something that Logan was used to. He could have afforded the food that he ate, but decided that if Magneto was offering to take the bill why refuse? Logan bought nothing else.
Now, as the day faded into night he watched as the streets started to crowd. It was almost exactly like the night before. Women were dancing in the street and small bands played their music. Those who were working had genuine smiles on their faces. They had all found something here, and it was safety. Magneto had made good on his promise to the mutant people of earth.
"Hey, stranger, feel like buying me a drink?" a woman asked as she walked up to Logan. She didn't look a day over twenty-seven. Her eyes were deep brown; her hair was curly and with blond highlights hanging down to her mid back. The only thing odd about her was her arms; which reminded Logan of Peter from the school, completely covered in metal.
"Sorry, missy, I'm only here for the night."
"I'm not asking you to marry me, just buy me a drink."
Logan rolled his eyes slightly and turned his head to the nearest waiter. "Hey, get the lady something to drink," Logan barked. The waiter nodded courteously and returned within a minute with the woman's drink. Logan paid him and he went away.
"Thanks," the woman said, taking a sip of the drink then starting to walk away.
Logan watched as she walked farther from him. Her eyes always met his, and he could see a flirtatious smile on her face. Finally he stepped away from where he had been standing and started after her. As he did the woman's smile grew to a grin, and she waited for him to catch up to her. When he did, she kissed him gently on the cheek, and continued to walk through the crowds.
"What the hell?" Logan asked.
He continued after her. The woman with the metal arms smiled, beckoning him to follow her to an unknown destination. Why am I doing this?
As Logan got outside of the city he paused, looking around for the woman with the metal arms. She waited for him, not more than three dozen feet from the marinas. He walked down to her, instantly entranced by her.
"Who are you?" Logan asked.
The woman leaned in close to his ear. Her voice trembled as she spoke, making her seem so fare away despite the fact that she was only inches from him. "My name is Pandora."
Logan felt a punch land in his gut. He flew back several feet, unprepared for the impact that came with the woman's punch. Whatever affection he had held for her only moments before had dissipated and was replaced with his will to protect himself. Logan leapt to his feet, barely hearing the snink as his claws extended. He waited as the woman stepped forward.
She launched another punch towards his face, but Logan easily caught her fist. He held it at bay, and then attempted to kick her in the head. As his leg lifted in the air Pandora moved her free hand back, knocking his kick away. Her right leg flew into the air, kicking his left cheek. Logan's grip on her wrist loosened, and Pandora freed herself. She punched him in the face. He lunged his claws towards her, and she caught him by the wrists. Logan watched helplessly as she lifted her legs into the air and kicked him in the face.
He stood up again, this time he saw two figures. The other was Sabertooth. Logan couldn't help but form a smile. "Magneto put you up to this, huh?" Logan asked.
Sabertooth smiled back, nodding his head no. Logan was surprised, he didn't think that Sabertooth would have the balls to attack him without his master giving the okay.
Pandora took a step forward, but Sabertooth put his hand in front of her. "Come on, runt. Let's see what you've got."
Logan growled. He started forward, waiting for Sabertooth to attack. It didn't take long for the bigger mutant to swing. No mistake, he was swiping for Logan's head. Logan ducked, but Sabertooth swung with his other arm, hitting him in the gut. The smaller of the two turned around then estimated the distance between himself and Sabertooth. Sabertooth reached his massive arms above his head and Wolverine dug his claws deep in the monster's gut. The bigger mutant growled, surprised by the sudden pain. Logan quickly removed his claws, readying himself for a second attack.
Sabertooth tried to swing at Logan again, but Logan ducked and swiped his claws across Sabertooth's face. He punched him twice more in the gut. If it weren't for Sabertooth's healing ability the bigger mutant would have been dead by now. Instead he merely swiped at Logan, sending the smaller mutant flying backwards through the air into some boxes.
His entire body hurt, but Logan was determined not to lose this battle yet. As Sabertooth approached Logan flung himself in the air. His claws landed in the chest of the bigger mutant. Logan removed his left claw and stabbed the Sabertooth twice more. He hooked his leg behind the bigger mutant's knee, pulling him to the ground. Logan pulled his fist back, retracting all but one claw. This was going straight into Sabertooth's eye.
He couldn't move. His limbs had frozen in place. Logan wanted to kill Sabertooth, but he just didn't have the strength to fight the invisible force that held him in place. It was only then that he knew what was happening. He had been set up.
"Wolverine, I'm shocked," Magneto said as he came into view.
Logan wanted to stab Sabertooth more than ever. His body was still frozen.
"He started it. The two of them," Logan announced. Thank god he could still talk.
Magneto's attention turned to Sabertooth. "Is this true?"
"No. He came after Pandora. Followed her all the way out here from town. When he saw that she was with me the runt tried to fight me."
"That's right," Pandora lied.
Magneto's attention turned back to Logan.
"I try to offer you paradise and this is how you repay me?"
"Paradise my ass, this is just another place where you can train your 'anti-human mutants', isn't it?"
Logan could see Magneto's nose flaring. He had struck a cord with that. "Find a boatman, I want him out of here tonight," Magneto ordered.
Chapter Three
Robert Drake pushed his arms upwards, completing his final pushup and resting the weight where it had started. He sat up, tired and sweaty, and then rubbed his towel over his face. For a moment Bobby's eyes gazed around the room, admiring the set up. The others, he knew, were all security guards as well. Most of them had been working for years, he, however, had only been working there but a few weeks. The other guards had not yet adopted him into their system, which was fine with Bobby. He didn't much like them anyways.
Bobby stood up and walked into the changing room, showered, cleaned up, and finally got dressed in his casual cloths. Work was over, and it was time to move into his new apartment. The girl he was moving in with seemed nice, although he had never met her face to face. They weren't in a relationship or anything. And she had made it clear over the phone that he was not to hit on her; otherwise she'd toss him out.
That was fine with him. After Rogue, Bobby didn't much feel like dealing with women. She was also a few years older than he, and that made things even more intimidating intimacy wise.
He walked out back to the moving truck that he had rented and started it up. Traffic was heavy that day, so it took him thirty minutes to drive only a few blocks. If he weren't moving he'd simply walk.
Bobby removed two small bags from the back of the moving van, walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door leading to apartment 420. Bobby snickered, knowing the apartment number was really 402, but had been changed a drug reference. He already liked her. Bobby knocked on the door, and a woman with blond hair cut as short as his own answered the door.
"Yeah, whatever it is you're selling I don't want it," she said.
From the smell that erupted from the apartment Bobby could tell something was burning. She started to close the door but Bobby put his hand in the way.
"My name's Bobby drake, I called about the room for rent, remember?"
The woman's eyes rolled slightly behind her thick-framed glasses. "Oh yeah!" she said, elongating her words as if her memory was just started. "I remember. Could you. excuse me just for one second?"
She closed the door and Bobby could hear some crashing around. "Shit!" More crashing. Water running. Finally the door opened again.
"Sorry about that, Piper Danvers." She extended her soot-covered hand.
Bobby nodded, trying to be courteous.
"Oh, shit. ahh. do you cook?"
"A little."
"Better than me I hope. Come on in."
She moved out of the way and started to wipe the soot on her robe. The apartment was kind of a mess. Dirty dishes cluttered the kitchen sink and counters. Bobby could see charbroiled bacon on the top of the trash container. The living room wasn't much better. Pillows and blankets cluttered the floor. The television was on some random soap opera. DVDs' lay scattered on the floor. The shelf they belonged on was empty. Piper would not let him even see her room because it was "too messy".
"Here's your room," she announced, opening the best room in the house. It was completely empty. Not bed, no nothing. A little dusty, but Bobby couldn't fix.

The minutes passed into hours and Bobby unpacked the van, and in time his things. He had cleaned up the bathroom, being sure to respect Piper's belongings. She had offered to buy the two of them a pizza so they could become better acquainted. Bobby was glad that she was not cooking.
His room was almost completely unpacked, and Bobby stopped to look at himself in the mirror. He had changed so much in the last couple of months. His stingy body had built out into the muscular form that stood in front of him. He had dyed blond horizontal streaks into the back of his hair. And he had even gotten a tattoo that took up most of his back; the Chinese symbol of ice. Appropriate.
"Food's here!" Piper called from the kitchen.
Bobby smiled. He walked into the kitchen; surprised to find that Piper had found room on the counters to place the pizza box.
"Hungry?" she asked as she removed a slice of cheese pizza from the box.
Bobby nodded. He started looking through the cupboards.
"What you looking for?" she asked.
"Plates."
"There aren't any clean."
Bobby turned just in time to see Piper drink straight from a two- liter bottle of Coke. "Want some?" she offered, holding the bottle by the neck and shaking it back and forth slightly.
"When in Rome," he muttered, excepting the bottle from her. He put it to his lips and took a drink, disappointed that the soda was warm. It took him only a second to change that. He handed the bottle back to Piper. She didn't seem to notice. "So, the maid on vacation?"
Piper laughed herself into a snort. "No," she said, struggling to keep her mouth closed while she ate. "I- I'm just a natural slob. You're not a neat freak are you?"
"Not anymore."
She frowned.
"No, not because of you. The school I went to, it was a boarding school. They were very particular about how we kept the rooms."
"Hmm. military school?"
He smiled. "No. Prep school."
"So you are in college?"
"Nope. My last couple of years were kind of rough, and I didn't feel like doing any more schooling."
Piper nodded. Her mouth was filled with pizza, but Bobby could tell that she wanted to speak. He waited. "I know what you mean. I did three and a half years of college. After that I just said 'Piper, enough is enough', and I walked away."
"So what do you do now?"
"I clean houses."
He paused for a moment, looking at her awkwardly.
"I'm kidding!" Piper laughed. She hit him on the shoulder. "No, I've been working at the local News station. Camera work, mostly. But I'm learning a lot about being a reporter. I hope to write at a news magazine some day."
Now it was Bobby who nodded.
"What about you? Got any plans past security?"
"Not really. I might go into police work. Maybe I'll get really ambitious, go to college and become a lawyer." He took a bite of pizza. It felt good on his tongue. Nice and warm, a perfect mix of tomato sauce, cheese and dough. "Mind if I have another swig?"
"Not at all, help yourself." She handed him the soda. For a moment their conversation paused. "So, out of every celebrity, living, who would you want to date?"
"Right into the embarrassing questions, huh?"
"Yup."
Bobby took a bite and let his mind roam for a few minutes. "I donno, Anna Paquin I guess. You?"
"That's such a cop out."
"What?"
"Spitting my question back at me. Just becau8se you can't think of some original question you have to copy me."
"So you're embarrassed about your answer too?"
"No. It's private."
"Who?"
Piper groaned. "Alright, alright. Spiderman, okay? You happy?"
Bobby started to laugh. "Two things, first of all Spiderman isn't a celebrity. He's a superhero, there's a difference."
"There is not!"
"There is too!"
"Hey, he's in the papers? He's in the tabloids. He's a celebrity."
"So what? The presidents are too!"
"That's different. Anyways, what's your number two thing, huh?"
"Secondly you're one of thousands of girls who falls for an athletic guy who dresses up and feels the need to impress the world with his abnormal abilities."
"Well maybe if a few more mutants would do that the world wouldn't have a problem with them."
"Doubtful, very doubtful."

Bobby woke the next day at ten twenty one. Thankfully it was a Saturday, one of the few days of the week that he had discovered both Piper and himself had off. He stretched in bed, tossed, turned, and finally got up to get showered and dressed for the day. At quarter till eleven he exited his room, fully prepared for the day ahead. He had decided that today was the day which he would clean the kitchen. Bobby had given up his hopes that Piper would be a cleanly roommate.
He loaded the dishwasher, started it, washed what dishes couldn't fit, wiped down the counters, scrubbed the stove, and was halfway through sweeping when Piper woke. Bobby glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing that he had lost all sense of what time it was. The hands pointed to twelve thirty two.
"Coffee?" Piper managed to groan as she rested against the counter.
"Couldn't find any. I did however wash the coffee maker."
She stood, barely able to walk in a straight line as she approached one of the cupboards. Piper tossed through a few items, and finally pulled out the coffee tin, then started to make a pot.
"How'd you sleep?" she asked, finally sounding more coherent than she appeared.
"Fine, and yourself?"
Piper held up one hand horizontally and shook it up and down. "God, how late were we up last night?"
"You went to bed around one thirty. I stayed awake until almost three."
She groaned. "I'm getting too old."
Bobby didn't say anything. Finally, after the coffee was ready and Piper was half way through her second cup she spoke again. "So, what say today I show you the town? You know, let you get used to the sites, find all the fun places."
Bobby shook his head. "That's okay. I'm good."
"Oh come on, how long have you been in Atlanta anyways?"
"Only a couple of weeks."
"So you don't have any clue how cool this place can be! Please, Bobby. I'm dying to get out of the house and Sunday everything closes early!"

He rolled his eyes. Bobby could picture how the next twenty minutes of their conversation would go. He'd say 'no'; she'd plead 'yes', each time her voice getting more and more pitiful and annoying until he finally caved. He decided to accept her invitation now instead of going through the entire theatrics.
"Alright!" Piper shrieked after he agreed. "We'll get out of here in about an hour. Be ready, okay?"
I just have to grab my shoes and I'm ready, Bobby thought to himself. Before he could respond Piper was back in her room. He heard some more crashing.

Piper had made good on her promise. She had actually done a good job of showing him around without taking him shopping for too long. There had been a few stores that Piper had to go in or else "I'll die!" But she had gone in and out in less than thirty minutes in all of those stores. Bobby was beginning to think that she was the world's fastest female shopper.
It was almost six when the two of them exited an ice cream parlor. Piper was laughing at a joke that Bobby had made only moments before. Traffic was blocked up and Bobby was glad that the two of them had taken the subway. He could hear pigeon's wings flapping as they started to fly away as one. The smell of gasoline filled his nostrils. And somewhere overhead Bobby could hear a jet engine. Three of them. And they were getting closer.
He looked up and saw three robots descend onto the streets below. Each of the robots were about two stories tall. One of them landed on a parked car, and the alarm was immediately silenced as it was crushed beneath the weight of the robot. Bobby remembered them. They were called Sentinels.
Maybe they're after another mutant, he hoped.
A crowd was beginning to gather, and some tourists were already taking pictures of the machines. Bobby could see one man with a video camera aiming at them.
"Hey! What the hell did you do to my car?" one man screamed as he rushed forward to the robot on the far right. This was the machine that had crushed a car.
The Sentinel glared at him and growled. Bobby was sure that the sound was a growl. What type of sadistic programmer would teach them how to growl?
The man backed off. He held up his hands as if he were being held at gunpoint.
"Robert Drake, stop where you are!" the Sentinel in the middle cried.
"Shit," Bobby whispered to himself.
"Bobby, what's going on?" Piper demanded.
The Sentinel took a step forward, and as he did so the street rattled.
"Piper, I'll explain everything later, I promise. But right now trust me and run!"
As he spoke Bobby grabbed onto her arm and pulled as hard as he could. He could hear a laser beam fire from the Sentinel's palm. It missed Bobby and Piper, but instead hit one of the many cars stuck in traffic. There was a scream from the driver, almost instantly muffled by the sound of an explosion. Pieces of the car flew into the air, and Bobby could feel some of it hit his back.
A second fire was shot; this time the beam hit a building. More flames exploded from what had once been a place of business. As Bobby took a corner he heard the Sentinel's start to lurch forward. They crashed through the building that they had just shot, not stirred by the fact that debris from the third and forth floor was coming down and crashing onto their heads.
Bobby held out his hand, and the moisture in the air started to freeze, allowing for a slick layer of ice that he and Piper could slide along. Piper was not as graceful as he, but one thing Bobby had been sure to study at the Xavier School was how to slide along any layer of ice, no matter how thin.
The Sentinels' continued to lumber forward, crushing cars and street signs as they did. Occasionally they would fire laser beams from their palms, but none ever hit Bobby or Piper.
Finally Bobby turned around and concentrated on the Sentinel in the lead. He lifted his left hand, and started to form a layer of ice inside of the robot's generator. It didn't seem to be effected at first, but finally it stopped. The one immediately behind it knocked the frozen Sentinel out of the way. Bobby watched as the second Sentinel's chest opened up. He saw the missile but knew there was no way to stop it.
"Watch out!" he screamed to Piper as the projectile flew through the air. He did his best to make an ice wall between himself and the Sentinels, but it shattered upon impact.
Chunks of ice tore through the surrounding buildings. Bobby could feel his forehead bleeding. He looked around, realizing the explosion had knocked him backwards into a car. He instantly searched for Piper.
She lay on the ground, screaming and grabbing her leg. He could see blood, lots of it. He hoped she was all right.
Bobby stood, and as he did he instantly collapsed. He regained his footing and ran to her side. "Piper!" he screamed.
In the distance he could hear sirens wailing. The police were on their way. The Sentinel's would surely destroy any officer that arrived on the scene.
Bobby kneeled down next to Piper. "Piper, are you okay?" It was a stupid question; he could see that she wasn't. Her leg was bleeding; luckily the ice had not penetrated her artery. It looked like her right arm was broken as well. Bobby pulled off what was left of his shirt and wrapped it around Piper's leg, being sure to tie it tight.
"Don't move, I'm going to get you a doctor!" he informed her.
Sirens died behind him. Bobby could hear police getting out of their cars and shouting inaudible warnings directed at the Sentinels'. The cops were firing, and despite his concern for Piper Bobby forced himself to look at the Sentinel. It was firing back, and it didn't look like the bullets seemed to affect the steal monster. Somewhere, one of the bullets struck it just right. The machine started to spark, then remained stationary.
Bobby smiled. Maybe all of the cops wouldn't die. Maybe they would escape the terror of the machines after all.
As his hopes peaked Bobby heard yet another explosion. The third and final Sentinel walked forward, leaving behind the charred bodies of what had been officer's only a few seconds ago. It's eyes focused on Bobby.
He wanted to fight it, but even as he prepared to make a counter strike Bobby's body rebelled yet again. It forced him to his knees, making him barely able to lift his arm.
The Sentinel's chest exploded in a brilliant performance of red light. The machine stumbled backwards, away from Bobby and Piper. It crashed into the building behind it, doing unknown amounts of damage to the city that had already been attacked by the metal monsters.
Bobby turned and saw yet another giant approaching. This one, however, was not made of steel. Bobby knew him as Apocalypse. And, but before he lost consciousness, Bobby witness Apocalypse's hands grasp both him and Piper.
Chapter Four
Two and a half years ago, in Germany, the young and naive Kurt Wagner watched his friend work on his machine. Coen held out his hand. "Ratchet," he said in German. They always spoke in German to each other. Kurt's English was still thick with an accent. Coen had been teaching him English among other things.
Kurt dug through the toolbox and removed a ratchet, then handed it to his friend and mentor.
Coen had taught Kurt other things as well. He had taught Kurt how to teleport himself. As of current Kurt could only teleport himself up to a mile, but he was working on going farther. Coen had been known to teleport himself up to ten miles. Kurt's mentor could also phase through physical mater, which made it that much easier for him to teleport without fear. Kurt did admire his mentor, for all that he was teaching him, for his mutant abilities, and because unlike most, Coen did not treat Kurt different despite his physical appearance.
Quite the contrary. Kurt had never even seen Coen with anyone else, human or mutant. He suspected that if he wanted to his mentor could teach many mutants to use their powers, to harness their powers, and eventually master them.
"How are things in the circus?" Coen asked.
"Good. There were some Americans that came. They offered me an interview, but it's all the way in the United States. I'm not sure if I'll take it."
"I'm sure you would do great."
"I'm not worried about that. I've never been to America. All that I've known is this home. Here, in Germany. I've been to France, Austria, Italy, Spain, and even Britain once. But even there, if I wanted to, all I had to do is drive for a few hours and I'd be home. America, it would take almost a day to fly."
Coen nodded. "It's a decision that you must make Kurt. But either choice you make, I'm sure that you will not regret it." The machine roared to life. Kurt watched the lights start to illuminate the closed church. "It works."
Kurt clapped his hands in excitement. "Great! So you're going to sell your machine and get rich now, right?"
"No. I'm content with this being the only one of its kind. I think I'll just keep it our little secret, alright Kurt?"
"As you wish, sir."
"Go and fetch us a bottle of whine, will you? This is cause for celebration!"
It was Kurt who nodded now. He disappeared in a cloud of smoke, arriving at his destined spot in the basement. Much to his disappointment there was only one bottle of red whine left, and Kurt never drank white whine. He grabbed the bottle and two cups, and then teleported himself back to the main part of the church where Coen waited. Coen poured the cups, both of them filled the same amount, and handed one to Kurt.
"To the future. To your audition, and to my machine."
Coen tipped back his head, and Kurt did the same, instantly feeling the cold and slightly bitter taste of the red whine as it slipped over his tongue and down his throat. He put the empty cup down on the table and shook his head slightly. The whine must have been too old. It was stronger than he thought it would be.
He stepped forward, amazed to find that his legs felt like jell-o. Kurt gazed up, and despite the blurring of his eyes he could see that Coen was grinning at him. Smiling wickedly as Kurt fell to his knees.
"Coen, what's happening to me?" Kurt asked. The words were hard to speak even in his native German.
"Coen. I've always hated that name." He put one arm down and cradled Kurt's jaw with his hand. "I am Chimera."
Kurt fell to the ground, unable to stay awake any longer.

Kurt sat up his bed at the Xavier School and screamed as loud as he could. He could feel sweat pouring down over his face. His hair was completely soaked. He pulled the blankets closer to him then looked at the clock. It was two forty five; too early to wake up. The images from the dream he had had only seconds before still haunted him. Kurt knew he would not sleep again tonight.
He stood and got dressed. Why did he have to have the dream now? It had been over two years since he had thought of Coen, or Chimera, whichever the man's true name was. Kurt hadn't even mentioned his former mentor since he arrived at the school.
The mutant walked down the halls of the school, listening to the sounds of what few students were present sleeping. Everything was as it should be. He continued down the stairs to the lower levels. This was where he trained as an X-Man ever since he arrived. The metal floor felt cold, as it always did. He was sure that when Xavier had designed this part of the school he hadn't intended students to go walking around barefoot down there. Probably hadn't even been intending for teachers to go about without shoes. But Kurt had never found a pair that fit his awkward feet well, and finally decided it was more practical to walk without any footwear whatsoever.
He didn't even realize that he was walking down the hall to Cerebro. His mind had been wandering to his first encounter with the mutant known as Chimera; the good times that they had had; and how suddenly it all ended.
"You're imperfect DNA.."
Kurt shut his eyes, willing himself not to think of his former mentor. When his eyes opened he was inside of Cerebro. He stood on the long platform that went to the center of the room. As Kurt walked he felt the same rush as he had when he was a trapeze artist at the Munich Circus. A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins, knowing that one false move would make him plummet down into the black chasm below.
Kurt kneeled at the computer on the center circle. He picked up the aluminum helmet from where it rested and flipped it back and forth in his hands. How hard, he wondered, would it be for Xavier to find Chimera? Kurt believed that the mutant was no longer a threat. He believed that by now something would have happened to him to deter his ambition to kill Kurt. But he wanted to be sure. And things would only get worse until he was sure.

Kurt ate an early breakfast around six in the morning, then proceeded to the church only two miles away. He always liked to go early in the morning. He had found that if he got to the church and back before seven usually no one would see him. A couple of teleportations later and Kurt was on the stone steps of the building.
He rushed inside, hoping that not many people would see him. It was not that he was ashamed of who or what he was, but Kurt knew what people thought when they saw him. They feared him, only because of his looks.
He dipped his left hand in the holy water and crossed himself. Next Kurt walked to the candles along the wall and lit one. This candle he lit for the man who he had killed only a few weeks before. He knew that it was in self-defense, but the fact that he had killed another human being disturbed Kurt. It made him feel an overwhelming sense of guilt, despite the act was done to defend both himself and the children at the school.
He continued to the nearest pew and knelt. "Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name," he started.
"What're you praying about?" Kurt heard a child ask.
Kurt looked up, suddenly startled by the voice of the small boy. He could feel his yellow eyes flicker in the lighting, but the child was not afraid.
"I'm praying for forgiveness."
"You look funny."
Kurt cocked his head. "So do you."
The child laughed. "Are you a monster?"
Kurt smiled. He knew that his jagged teeth were showing. "Yes, but not all monsters are dangerous."
"Chimera is."
Kurt's smile disappeared. "What did you say?"
The boy laughed and turned around. He started for the doors. Kurt followed. He wanted to teleport and cut the boy off, but was afraid of causing a seen.
The boy paused at the door and looked back.
"He's gonna get you, he's gonna get you!" the boy taunted. He laughed and turned again, leaving the church.
Kurt was once again on the steps. He looked around, trying to find where the boy went.
Kurt, the mutant heard from inside his head. The voice was that of Chimera. Thank you for leading me to this land. 'Oh brave new world that had such people in it.'
Kurt swallowed hard. Chimera had found him.

The meeting had passed, as had Kurt's discussion with Remy. In the short time that Kurt had known the thief they had become good friends, despite the fact that Remy's personal habits disgusted Kurt. He had every bit of confidence that his friend would be able to find Jubilee with the assistance of Rogue.
He started to walk down the halls, taking long and leisurely steps. His mind wandered.
"Kurt!" he heard a voice call from behind.
The mutant turned to see Ororo standing behind him. She smiled warmly, and he returned the smile.
"You okay? You've looked a little off today."
Kurt's smiled wavered. He did not want to tell Ororo of his monster. He knew she would worry. "Yes," he replied. "I'm fine. Just a little worried about Jubilee is all."
"You're a terrible liar, Kurt." His eyes moved from her face to the floor just behind her. He could feel Ororo's hand brush against his cheek. "Hey, what's wrong Kurt? Come on, this is me you're talking to. Whatever you tell me is strictly between you and me."
Kurt moved his head away from her touch. "I don't want you to get hurt." He started to walk away from her.
"Kurt."
He did not turn. His alien-like hands wrapped around the rosary that he kept in his pocket. He silently started to pray.
"Let me help."
Kurt knew she would continue to talk to him. He teleported himself to the roof of the school. There he could get solitude. Even when the children were playing below on the weekends during the school year he would retreat to the rooftops for solitude.
His eyes gazed to the heavens. He could feel tear drops falling down his cheeks. He so loved this place. It had become his sanctuary from the outside world. It had become his home. It made him feel like he was back home, back safe.
He knew that Ororo would help if she could. She would do anything to help him. And that's what he was afraid of. That Chimera would hurt her like he had tried to hurt him.
Kurt started to pray.

Kurt's lips moved up and down, trying to form words of prayer, despite the fact that nothing audible erupted from his lips. He tried to look around, but the effects of the drug were strong, and restrained him from moving. The first activity he had attempted was to teleport, but that had proved to be a lost cause. His eyes refused to focus. All that he could be sure was that he was still inside of the church. He could smell the aroma of Chimera's workspace.
"I know you're awake, Kurt," Chimera said from his workstation. "I also know that the affects of the drug don't completely wear off for eight hours. But don't worry, we'll be done long before that."
"Wh. d. to me?" Kurt managed to say.
"I'll be honest with you, Kurt. My mutation didn't originally allow me to walk through walls and teleport like you. Did you know that a normal human uses only ten percent of their brain?"
He paused as if he expected Kurt to respond.
"Well, my mutation allows me to use an additional sixty percent of my brain, and it also has given me unnaturally long life. I believe that I am immortal. Which brings me to my next point.
"I built this machine to extract DNA from other mutants, and make myself stronger. That is why I can teleport like you and why I can walk through walls. The more DNA I attain the stronger that power becomes. So fare, I have fused my DNA with four other teleporters. I can stay in the other dimension for weeks at a time, and travel hundreds of miles in a single teleportation. Unfortunately, when I fuse my DNA with another, the process kills them."
Chimera started to explain the process of DNA fusion, but Kurt wasn't paying attention. He was trying to escape. And the harder that Kurt tried to move the harder it became to move.
He wanted to scream. He thought of what would happen to him. He thought of all the horrible things that Chimera would do to him in a matter of minutes. Kurt knew he was never going to leave this church.

Kurt lifted his head from his arms. He looked around. It was almost dark. How long had he been sleeping? He teleported himself inside of the school. The halls were empty. It was late; too late for anyone to be awake. He walked down the stairs to the library, where he always went when he couldn't sleep. Ororo was there, in her nightgown. She was asleep with a book facedown on her lap.
He walked over to her, half wanting to wake her, half wanting just to watch her sleep. He sat across the room from her, clasping his hands together and intertwining his fingers.
"I know what I have to do," he whispered at a pitch so that he was sure she wouldn't hear him, "But I am not sure that I am strong enough. I'm not sure that anyone is strong enough. But I know I must try."
With that he stood up and kissed her gently on the forehead. Ororo moaned slightly, but did not wake.
"Good-bye."
* * *
Kurt had walked all the way from the school to the church. He knew that there had been people who had stared at him, but that did not matter. He needed time to think. And he was glad to take all the time he could before entering confession, one last confession.
Kurt entered the church. The sound of them crashing open echoed throughout the church. He walked to the confession box and sat down inside. "Forgive me father, I must sin. I may never be able to confess again," Kurt said. "There is a man. he is determined to kill me. He's too strong for the police to arrest. And I'm sure that if I do not go to him he will kill everyone that I hold close to my heart. I do not ask for forgiveness, but I do need guidance. Is there no other actions I can take than to kill him?"
There was a silence, and for a moment Kurt thought that maybe the other side of the confession box was empty. "Do you plan to kill him?"
Now it was Kurt who paused. He knew the answer, but dreaded admitting it to anyone out loud. "Yes."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
As the words were spoken Kurt saw a face phase through the wood dividing the confession box. He stumbled backwards, out into the main part of the church. Chimera stepped through the box, not pausing to maneuver around physical objects, but merely walking through them.
"Kurt, it's so good to see you again."
Kurt looked back at his former trainer, terrified. His eyes gazed to the statue of the Angel Michael fighting a Fallen Angel. Both of them were armed with swords. Kurt got to his feet and grabbed the sword that Michael had been holding. Chimera smiled, teleported, and picked up the sword that the Fallen Angel had been holding.
Their swords met. As they fought Kurt advanced, then Chimera.
"Kurt, have you done this before?" Chimera asked.
"Never."
"I'm impressed."
Chimera's sword moved in for an advance, and Kurt blocked it easily. He swung his sword downwards, trying to hit Chimera in the head. The villain blocked with his sword.
Kurt leapt backwards, now standing on the pews. Chimera followed. As the two fought they stepped backwards. It was Chimera who lunged forward, and as he was about to stab his apprentice Kurt teleported to the head of the church. The villain fell through the pews in front of him. It only took Chimera a second to get to his feet.
He held his sword in the air with both hands and started to charge Kurt. His body phased through the pews between Kurt and himself. Kurt countered by advancing. Chimera phased again, and Kurt fell forward, his sword wedging itself in the pulpit. He struggled to get it up only for a second, then teleported to a chandelier.
"What's going on here?" the two heard a voice asked.
The priest looked confused only for a second. Chimera grabbed Kurt's sword and threw it at the priest, impaling him.
"No!" Kurt screamed, knowing that the priest was already dead.
He could hear sirens.
"Kurt," Chimera started.
It was time to escape, before Chimera killed more innocents in his desperation to kill Kurt.
"I just want you to know, since we last met I upgraded myself. I'm now telepathic as well."
Kurt's eyes went wide with fright. He knew he had to escape now. He teleported himself to a nearby rooftop. Kurt knew that Chimera would follow quickly, especially if he was telling the truth about being telepathic.
Chimera started to appear, and Kurt jumped in the air. When Chimera's body was fully present Kurt's feet met his gut. It was enough to surprise the villain. Kurt kicked at him with his left foot, and as he did Chimera caught his leg. Without thinking about it Kurt turn his body counter clockwise and hit Chimera in the face with his right foot, simultaneously loosening his left leg so he could land on all fours. Chimera fell backwards, and off the roof.
Before he was more than a few feet down Chimera teleported himself to the ground below. Kurt did not want to give him a chance to regain his strength. He jumped after Chimera, teleporting in mid air so that his arms landed on Chimera's shoulders; his legs kicked his former teacher in the back. Chimera's body went flying forward into the front of a car.
Kurt rushed to his enemy, who was already on his feet. He threw a punch with his left hand, which Chimera caught with his right. He threw a second punch with his right hand, which Chimera caught with his left. Kurt rushed his head forward, head butting Chimera. He kicked him in the gut, and Chimera groaned.
"Good work, Kurt. But not good enough."
Chimera phased through Kurt and grabbed him the by the back of the neck. He started to push his former student forward until they were by the door of the car. Chimera punched through the window and unlocked it. He opened the car door and put Kurt's head in-between the door and the body. Kurt felt the impact of the car door shutting on him twice. He knew that if Chimera wanted he would be dead, but he also knew that Chimera needed him alive.
Kurt wrapped his tail around Chimera's neck and squeezed tightly, at the same time he pulled backwards. Chimera moved backwards. They were both in the streets. Chimera knocked Kurt's tail away from his throat with his free hand. He spun his former student around and pulled back one fist.
The two of them heard a truck horn blaring. They turned, just in time to see a Mack truck ram into Chimera. His severed hand still clutched to Kurt's shirt. Kurt knocked it away quickly and teleported to safety.

Chimera watched as the truck driver got out of his vehicle and walk towards him. "Oh my god," the truck driver said. "Oh my god." He ran to Chimera's side. Chimera's body had already almost totally healed. "Are you alright sir?"
Chimera lifted up the arm that was still attached and snapped the truck driver's neck. He stood up. "No."
He looked around; Kurt was gone, but still close. He walked to where his severed arm lay and picked it up. As soon as he held his stump of an arm to the limb it started to heal together.
"Round one to you, Kurt. "I'll be around."
Chimera turned and started to walk away. He had all the time in the world.

Ororo Monroe woke the next morning still tired, but refused to sleep any longer. As her eyes opened she saw the Kurt was crouching in the corner on the other side of the room next to the fireplace. His eyes were closed, although he did not seem to be sleeping. She wondered exactly how long he had been waiting for her to wake. Ororo did not want to move, knowing that whatever was troubling him was bad enough so that he needed his rest.
She maneuvered herself in her chair, trying to make herself comfortable and eradicate the pain in her back. As she moved Kurt's eyes opened and he jumped to his feet. Something was definitely wrong.
"Kurt?" she said, trying to disguise her voice as if she wasn't fully awake.
"Yes," Kurt replied. "You startled me."
She smiled flirtatiously and looked into his yellow eyes. "So did you." Then she added, "What are you doing huddled in the corner over there?"
"Just taking a nap."
She waited for him to speak for several minutes. Finally convinced that he was going to be as secretive as he had been the day before Ororo stood. "Well, I'm going to get dressed. See you at breakfast." She walked to the door, giving him a final look back for an invitation into conversation. He said nothing, and she turned her head. He would talk when he was ready.
"Ororo wait!" Kurt said, his voice hinting at urgency. She wasn't mad at him enough to ignore him.
"Yes?" Ororo asked, turning back once again.
"I have to tell you something. Something that I've been hiding from you, Scott, even Xavier the entire time that I've been at this school. Something about my past that has resurfaced again."

Kurt had explained his entire relationship with Chimera. How he had met him, how he had been taught to exorcise his mutant abilities, the betrayal, and finally his escape. "I don't know what type of drug it was that Chimera gave me but whatever it was it wasn't strong enough. As soon as he removed that needle the first time I just wished that I were somewhere else. I just pictured myself inside of a graveyard that I played in as a child. The graveyard wasn't too far from where Chimera's church was. And suddenly, just as suddenly as my first teleportation, I was there. At first I thought I was dead. When I discovered that I wasn't, I ran. The next morning I was on my way over here for an audition with that American circus. That is why Stryker caught me back then."
Ororo nodded. "That's a big secret."
"Now Chimera's back, and he's hell-bent on fusing my DNA with his own. I don't know why he wants my DNA, or why he's waited so long, but he's back. And I have to leave. I have to confront him."
She paused. Finally Ororo stood up. "If he's as powerful as you claim then you're going to need help."
"Ororo, you know that-"
"I know that if you don't have help and you go against this guy that he's going to kill you. And I know that I care about you too much to just watch you go and get yourself killed. Just give me a half hour to get some things together." She turned and started off.
"Ororo," Kurt called, his voice the same tone of urgency as before.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
She did not reply. But whatever happened he was truly thankful that he was not going into this battle alone.

Chimera sat closer to the Xavier School than Kurt would have guessed. From that distance he could monitor all of Kurt's thoughts, and all of the thoughts of this woman that he called Ororo Monroe. He smiled to himself. Kurt was becoming braver than he would have guessed.
Well come on, Chimera thought to himself. I'd be happy to make her acquaintance.
Chapter Five
On the same day that Xavier sent Rogue and Remy to New Orleans Kitty Pryde woke with thoughts of Jacob, the mutant she had known as Reaper. She stirred from her bed, still not dressed yet, and opened the hardcover book on her dresser, Brave New World. There sat the four leafed clover she had found that day she had returned from Genosha. She but her hand down and let her fingertips outline it's curves, it's veins, and it's body.
"Jacob." she whispered.
She closed to book. Deep in her heart she knew that it was truly silly of her to get as upset about him as she was. They had only known each other for a few days. And most of the time that they did know each other they had been enemies.
Kitty prepared herself for the day that lay ahead of her. Forty-five minutes later she was ready for the day. Her mother had already left for work. Typical. She rushed outside and hopped on her bike. It was only a short trip from her house to work. Five minutes by car, twenty minutes by bike, and thirty-five minutes by foot. Today she had made it to work in a record time of sixteen minutes.
Beth smiled at her as she entered the back room of the music store. "Hey Kitty, what's up?" Beth asked.
"Not much, how have things been here today?"
"Been quiet."
Kitty rushed to her locker and pulled her work shirt over her casual clothes.
Beth stood up and offered a cup of coffee to her mutant friend. Kitty refused.
"There was a guy who came in and bought just about every Led Zeppelin CD we have. Other than that no one out of the ordinary."
"Zeppelin junky? No kidding. Any other weirdo's running around I should know about?"
Beth shook her head. "Not that I know of hun. Hey, you still on for that Evanescence concert?"
"Course! With the price we had to pay for those ticks, you think I would miss it?"
Beth smiled. "Alright. I'll see you after work, right?"
"Yeah."

Stocking the shelves wasn't a part of Kitty's work that she especially liked, but it gave her a chance to space without having to worry about her manager getting mad at her. She took pride in her work, making sure that the artists went in logical alphabetical order, and that the albums were arranged by year of release.
Her mind surfed from idea to idea. At first she thought of College in the fall, and of her courses of study. Then she thought of the X-Men, and how much fun it would be to actually be part of their team. She wondered about how Rogue and Jubilee were doing. She was curious if the two of them still hung out or if they were too busy preparing for college, or hanging out with boyfriends.
Kitty still wasn't sure what she thought of Rogue's new boyfriend, Remy. She thought it was a little slutty of Rogue to break up with Bobby and start dating him almost the next day. But she also knew that Rogue might be a lot of things, but a slut she was not. A slut she could not be even if she wanted to. Kitty smirked immaturely.
She wondered if Jubilee had received the letter that she had left her. She wished that the two of them would e-mail her once in a while. It was so hard to keep in touch over distance.
But as soon as she had returned to the school her mother had removed her. Her friendships had been severed so suddenly she barely had a chance to say good-bye. It hadn't been long after that when Kitty had been accepted to the University of Illinois, and she had decided to work at the music store during the summer to get come cash. But she still missed the school. She missed her home away from home.
Her cart was empty, and Kitty knew that if she should start looking for someone to help with their music selections. The problem was that there weren't many customers in the store. She could see a boy and a girl flirting by the country music section. Another boy was bobbing his head up and down to the demo tunes that were playing on a set of headphones. There were about a half a dozen customers walking around, searching the shelves for their various selections.
She sighed. A boy a little older than she was looking through the shelves; and he appeared to be confused. He probably needed help. If this was his lame way of hitting on her then he was in for a surprise.
"Excuse me," a voice called from behind her. "Are you Miss Pryde?"
Kitty turned. Her face lit up as her eyes met a familiar face. Indeed she could see from his expression that he was happy to see her too. "Jacob," she gasped, barely ably to say anything else.
"Hey Kit-Kat." His smile did not waver as he spoke.
"Is that really you? I mean. this isn't. it's you, right?"
"Did you get my clover?"
Her arms wrapped around him and she pulled him tight to her body. She couldn't believe it. She thought for sure that he was dead. She had seen him fall. She had seen him die, and yet here he was. And she knew it was him.
She pushed herself away from him. How could he do that to her? Make her think that he was dead like that? And not so much as a single phone call or letter to let her know that he was alive! He had made her think that he had killed himself for her, that bastard!
"Kitty." he started. His voice trailed as if he were searching for the right words to say to her.
"Why? Why didn't you contact me? Why didn't you just tell me that you were alive, Jacob? Why did you do that to me?"
"I wanted to. but it wasn't safe. I've spent my time hunting down Apocalypse. I knew if he truly believe I had feelings for you that he would surely hunt you down to get to me.
"I found him, Kitty. I found him, and I cornered him. He was beaten, broken. pathetic. I. I remember having him cowering in a corner. I was so ready to kill him. I wanted to kill him. I knew that I could. And at that instant I realized that I had become no better than him.
"I- I went back to the school to look for you. You're the only thing that has been good in my life since before my parents die, I know that now. I- I'm not asking you to forgive me Kitty. I don't expect you to do that. I've given you no reason to. I'm just asking you to give me another chance. Please. Don't tell me that I've messed things up so much between us that I don't deserve a second chance."
She could feel tears building up in the corner of her eyes again. She felt as if he were dying in front of her eyes again.
"If you want to see me again I'll be at the Turning Creek Restaurant. tonight. at eleven. Meet me there. If you don't believe me, or just simply don't want me in my life, I won't bother you again. I promise."
Without waiting for her to reply Jacob turned and walked away. Kitty wanted to cry out to him, but couldn't find the words.
"Who was that?" Beth asked as she stepped up behind Kitty.
"That. uh. that was him. That was the guy."
"That was Jacob? I thought you said-"
"Yeah, I thought he died in that bar fight too."
"I thought you said he got shot when you were getting mugged."
Kitty wiped back her tears. She had barely heard what Beth had said. "Hey, Beth, I'm not feeling so hot. You mind covering for me? I'm gonna take the rest of the day off."
"Yeah, sure hun. You want me to call you a cab or something?"
"No. I need some time to think. But thanks."

Kitty did not go home. She didn't want her mother to call and find out that she had skipped work. She knew that there would be a lecture if she found out. It seemed that was pretty much all that Kitty's mother said to her nowadays. Just lectures, and all Kitty could do was let her down.
Now she sat in the food court of the nearby mall, silently sipping on her soda. Her thoughts wandered to that day back at Genosha. She remembered Jacob phasing through her, as she had phased through so many things in her life. There had been so many nights between then and now that she had pictured him falling through the air. The look of happiness that he had as he descended to his doom.
Why?
She had heard his reason, but it seemed almost as if he were lying to her. She thought it almost as if he had practiced that response. The response sounded as if it had been programmed into his head for some reason yet unknown to her.
And what of her feelings for him?
Kitty had always considered that her feelings for him might have been an emotion he had put into her head when Xavier was around. She wasn't sure if it was just a crush or if she actually felt something for him.
Damn it; just forget him, she thought to herself bitterly. Honestly you sound like a pathetic high school freshman with a crush on a senior. God! He made you think he was dead, that's as good as breaking up with you, Kitty!
She played the scene again in her mind. She felt the warm of his kiss. His hands phased through hers. He started falling towards the pool below. She saw Nightcrawler composing in front of her. He grabbed her from behind. She was startled and looked back to see his blue face. She turned around as they started to teleport. Another bright light was below her, just like Nightcrawler always made when he teleported. And she was inside of the Blackbird.
Jacob had stolen Nightcrawler's powers when he grabbed her. She was sure of it. He had teleported himself to safety while she was being brought back to the jet.

Dana Colby sat inside the food court fare enough away from Kitty Pryde so that the girl could not see her but she could see the girl. Kitty had known her as Soul Breaker, but she had known her as her enemy too. Dana knew her part to play in young Miss Pryde's life was not over, although Miss Pryde did not know that yet.
For a moment she looked down at the picture she had of her son. He was only three then. Now he was eight, and she hadn't seen him since the day that picture was taken. She hated herself for what she had become, but knew she had no choice. Her son's life depended on it.
Dana put the picture in her breast pocket and removed her cell phone from her coat. She dialed the number she had been given and put the phone to her ear.
"Speak," a soft southern accented man started. He answered after the first ring.
"I've spotted her. She's in the food court of a local mall right now. Alone. If you wanted I could capture her now."
"No. You couldn't. Not unless Reaper was there to disable her powers. Aside from that, I want to be sure that Reaper's still with us."
"Excuse me? Sir, you doubt him? I mean; he's your son!"
"My adopted son. My own boy betrayed me, Soul Breaker. I have no reason to think that Reaper won't do the same. Call me when you've apprehended the mutant. I have other things to attend to."
Stryker hung up his side of the phone. Dana wasn't sure what he had planned, but she knew that it would inevitably lead to her death. That didn't matter. Not so long as her son was alive.

Jacob looked down at his sixth cup of coffee and sighed. He knew that the waitress wanted him to order more than just coffee so she could get a bigger tip. It didn't really matter to him though. His main concentration was on the clock.
It was eleven fourteen in the evening, and he sat patiently inside of Turning Creek Restaurant. Please don't show up, Jacob thought to himself. Jacob had spent his time thinking of some possible way to divert Stryker's attention towards Kitty. Thus far he had been unable to.
Eleven fifteen.
Jacob decided to leave in five minutes. At least that way Stryker wouldn't accuse him of not trying. He looked up for his waitress. It was time to ask for the bill.
He paid, finished his coffee, and was ready to leave when Kitty entered the restaurant. She didn't approach him, but waited for him by the open door. He walked to her.
"Hey," he started.
"Hey. I. I wasn't here to see you. I told some friends that I'd meet them here for a late night coffee. I'm kinda late, if you'll excuse me."
He nodded and moved to the side.
Kitty started to walk forward, then stopped and turned to him. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
"I know that."
"I don't forgive you! I don't forgive you for making me think you died for me all this time."
"I didn't expect you to."
"I don't want you in my life!"
"I understand."
She stopped for a moment. Jacob wasn't sure if he should leave now or not. He knew she wasn't there to meet up with her friends, but he just couldn't understand what exactly she was thinking.
"Don't you dare do that to me again," Kitty ordered. "Not ever."
Jacob nodded.
"Promise?"
He nodded again.
Jacob felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't believe what he had just done. And he still wasn't sure what she was saying. He hoped she would go inside and order something. Give him time to get away from her. To save her. But she didn't move. He finally extended his hand for hers, and she took it.
The two started to walk down the street when Jacob saw the first squad. Three people; all dressed in black. Behind he knew there was a second squad, also made up of three people dressed in black.
"Kitty," he started.
He could hear the car horns blare in the darkness as yet a third group crossed the street. This group was made up of five. The leader being Soul Breaker.
"What is it Jacob?"
"Run!"
He pulled her into the street and activated their phasing ability. They ran literally through Soul Breaker and her colleagues, through cars and even a bus, and finally ended up on the other side of the street.
"Who were they?" Kitty asked.
"Apocalypse's men, run!" Jacob lied.
Soul Breaker appeared on the sidewalk in front of them. Two of her men stood next to her. They were still dazed from the teleportation. She reached into her coat pocket and removed a Desert Eagle. Three bullet's whizzed through Jacob's phased body.
"Run Kitty!" Jacob screamed.
She didn't understand, but she did as she was told.
The second of Soul Breaker's men was ready to fight. The man pulled his gun out and Jacob knocked it to the side. The gunman pulled the trigger, and two bullets's entered his comrade's leg. Jacob then punched him in the face. He balled up his fist and punched at Soul Breaker, but as he did she teleported in back of him.
He could sense that she was preparing to teleport again. This time closer to Kitty. And Jacob used his own mutation to stop her. Soul Breaker had no choice but to run on foot.
Kitty was a good twenty feet ahead of them both, phasing through confused pedestrians as she ran. Jacob teleported to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. He didn't wait for her to turn around before teleporting again. It was only a few blocks from where they had been, but it was enough so that Soul Breaker wouldn't have a clue as to where they were.
"What was that? Who were they?" Kitty asked.
"Mutants," Jacob lied. "They worked for Apocalypse, and now they're a little bit upset because of what I did to their leader."
"But-"
"But nothing. Here." He gave her some cash. "Catch a cab, go home. They don't know who you are or where you live. I'll be in contact in a couple of days. I'll find you at your work, okay?"
"Jacob, please don't do this to me again!"
"Hey, remember my promise?" he asked. "I never break them."
Before she could argue he started to walk away from her. He knew that Stryker would be very displeased about the events that occurred this evening, but he also knew without Jacob's help it would be almost impossible to capture Kitty Pryde.

The door to Jacob's apartment buckled inwards as a battering ram smashed into it. He barely moved as the group of five former soldiers rushed inside. They all held their guns to his head, ready to pull the trigger if something unexpected happened.
"What time is it?" Jacob asked.
"It's early enough. Stryker wants a word with you, now!" one of the soldiers ordered.
"Alright, alright. Back off enough to let me get my pants on."
He got up and dressed. The soldier's did not allow him any more time to get groomed or even get his wallet. Instead they escorted him down the stairs and into a black Cadillac. Jacob watched as he was driven to the airport and escorted onto a private plane. Once the plain was in the air the door to the pilot's cabin opened, and out of it came the Southern man he had come to know like a father. Stryker.
"Just what in the hell did you think you were doing last night? Remember the agreement? I think of the plan. I instruct you on how the plan is played out. You follow the plan! Is that too hard to remember?"
"Good morning to you too."
Stryker pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Jacob's head. "Don't get smart with me you little shit! What happened?"
Jacob turned to his father, his eyes on either side of the gun's barrel.
"What's the matter, Jacob? Trying to see if there are any mutants within a half a mile? I don't think so."
"After we separated I thought to myself how odd it would be for Miss Pryde to find herself void of her powers when she tried to escape from Soul Breaker and our other friends. At first she wouldn't understand, but then, as time went on the simple truth would be revealed. Despite my best act, she would know that I had made her unable to use them. And, although the provability is slim, she might escape. When and if she did, my cover would be blown. And, as you have such great plans for me to be your spy that would not be acceptable. Not to me, and I don't believe to you."
"So what do you plan to do then?"
"I have a plan," Jacob announced.
His foster father put down the gun, and Jacob revealed his plan.

That afternoon Jacob had called Kitty. He informed her that the mercenaries were no longer after him, and that it was safe for him to see her once again. She felt her heart jump a beat at the idea. He had also asked her to diner that evening, and before Kitty even thought of other obligations she agreed.
Now she was ready to leave. She rushed down the stairs, not attempting to hide her pleasurable smile that stretched from ear to ear. The door to her house opened and slammed shut. She heard her mother's voice cursing as she put down her things from the office.
"Hey Mom," Kitty said as she walked into the kitchen. Kitty decided she could be pleasant for a few seconds.
"Hey honey," Terri Pryde replied. She paused a second, then looked at her daughter. "You look dressed up tonight, what's the occasion?"
"I got a date." Kitty felt her face flush as if it were her first date ever. God, I should be a blond.
"With who?"
Kitty could detect the suspicion in her mother's voice. For a moment she thought about being sarcastic and saying the date was with a girl from work. Kitty quickly pushed the idea aside. That might be too much for her mother.
"A guy I met at school. He's-"
"Excuse me? A guy you met at school? I thought you said you weren't going to talk to them."
"He wasn't a student mom. He was just-"
"How old is he?"
"I don't know. Eighteen, nineteen, maybe twenty."
"And he followed you from school?"
"Mom, it's not like that."
"Does he know where you live?"
"Yeah. But-"
"I don't think you should go out with this guy."
"Mom, you haven't even met him."
"I've met guys like him. Last thing you need at your age is for some psycho stalking you from New York to Illinois. And worse yet, a mutant stalker."
"Excuse me?"
Terri paused. Kitty had caught her say it again. Terri had said the "m" word in that tone again. It was the same tone she said mutant when talking about the Xavier school. It had been the same tone that had finally driven Kitty's father get a divorce.
"Honey, I didn't mean it like that. There are just a lot of dangerous mutants out there and-"
"And they can't be trusted?"
"I didn't say that all mutants couldn't be trusted. I'm just saying- "
"Most can't be?"
"Kitty."
"No, Mom. I think I understand."
Kitty turned to go out. She felt her mother's hands grasp her arm. "Kitty wait!"
"Let me go!"
"Kitty, just listen to what I have to say!"
"I said let me go!"
As she spoke Kitty phased through her mothers hand. She continued through the living room wall and out the front door. She knew her mother hated that but it was the easiest way to walk out on an argument before it got too bad.

Jacob was already inside of the restaurant when Kitty arrived. He could see that she had been crying, and as she approached the seat opposite him Jacob stood. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, just your typical mother-daughter fight." Kitty sat. "You already order something to drink?"
"No, I was waiting for you."
The waiter came over and the two of them ordered cokes. Kitty's was diet.
"You sure you're okay?" Jacob asked.
"Yeah, it's just my mom. She thinks we're. well, you know."
"That we're all criminals?"
"Everyone of us except me, apparently. And sometimes I'm not even sure about that."
Jacob smiled. Their drinks came. Kitty started to drink hers before she spoke again.
"So, you wanted diner, got any other plans for tonight?"
Jacob took a sip of his coke. "No. I was thinking of maybe catching a movie. Any particular you want to see?"
"I was thinking that new one with Ben Stiller looked good. What was it called. uh."
Jacob's head started to spin. He suddenly felt very faint.
Kitty took another sip of her coke. Her eyes fluttered up and down.
She's being drugged! No, we're being drugged!
"Kitty," he rasped. His throat felt as if it were closing. His eyes were becoming very heavy.
Jacob watched as Kitty's head hit the table. A second later he saw Soul Breaker appear behind his date, grab her then disappear. Jacob could stay awake any longer.

Jacob woke the next morning face to face with his foster father. To his surprise, Stryker had a warm smile on his face. It had been a long time since Jacob had seen that expression. For a moment he thought that the last years of his life had been a dream. The X-Men, Kitty, Apocalypse, all of it. Then he remembered the events that had transpired the previous evening. He felt the head ache and knew it was all true.
"You bastard!" Jacob screamed as he lurched forward. His right hand wrapped around the handle of Stryker's gun and he removed it from the holster. Both Jacob's hands grasped the handle tightly as he took aim at Stryker's forehead.
"Do you really intend on using that?"
"Where is she?" Jacob cocked the gun, pulling the hammer back with his right thumb. "Where?"
"She's safe. She's fine. She's at out base."
"I told you, my way! You weren't-"
"I know, Jacob. And I'm sorry. But the Phoenix has been spotted earlier than we thought she would be. I need you at the school. And I need you there now."
"And Kitty?"
"You really have feelings for her, don't you?"
Jacob hesitated. He hated to admit it to his foster father. The admittance of being infatuated with a mutant could bring severe consequences. "I'm sorry." He released the hammer of the gun. "I just wanted to prove myself to you."
"Then go to the Xavier School."
Jacob nodded. He stood up and went to his dresser."
"Reaper, the gun," Stryker said, extending his hand palm up.
Jacob put the gun in his foster father's hand. He was going in unarmed.