On the northern shores of England, where the third battle zone was located, metal spheres shot from the dark cloud cover and slammed into the earth, lighting up the sky as they streaked through the atmosphere. Some of the soldiers, the new, green recruits, though they were meteors. The older, more experienced veterans, recognized them for what they were.
Trouble.
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One of the platoons marched out, coming across the first of the metal spheres. Other groups had been dispatched to the other spheres. The mutants must've been stupid. They were completely outnumbered and surrounded.
The particular metal sphere this group had stumbled upon slowly opened, as the soldiers gathered around, weapons raised, ready to obliterate whatever lay within.
But to their surprise, it was a small girl. No older than nine, maybe ten at the most. She huddled in a small ball, her crimson-red hair almost longer than she was, obscuring her features.
Grumbling, the commander motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Grabbing his pistol from his hand, he stepped forward, placing it against the girl's head.
"Sorry about this kid... nothing personal," he said.
That's when she lifted her head... and opened her mouth.
A horrible shriek emitted, too powerful to have been made by one single girl, let alone anything on earth. But powerful it was, so loud the guards immediately stumbled back as if slammed by a wave of force, dropping their guns to cover their ears. For all it good it did them. The sound intensified. Solders stumbled, cursing, unable to think, all they wanted to do was end that insufferable sound. The sound caused by that one tiny little redheaded girl.
One by one, the soldiers crumpled to the ground, the eardrums shattered, if not their bones. The sounds had ripped apart almost everything in the surrounding area except the girl herself and her metal sphere. Gently, the sound faded, and Siryn closed her mouth, slipping to her feet. Her hair swished as she moved, stepping out of the metal sphere and towards the commander of the squad, still writhing in pain on the ground. Gently, she picked up his gun, discarded earlier, and pointed it at his head.
"Sorry about this... nothing personal," Siryn mocked. Then pulled the trigger.
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At another metal sphere, the entire platoon watched, guns upraised, as a young boy emerged. A brown-haired boy of about twelve. He didn't look like he could hurt a fly... yet his expression... told them they were all already dead to him.
"Open fire!"
Bullets rained through the air but they splattered against his body like they were made of water, not iron, splattering on the ground harmlessly. Proteus smirked, raising his hands, and the guns of the soldiers melted in a similar fashion, pooling at their feet. And that's when they realized they were totally out of their league. Several tried to run, but Proteus gestured again, and the ground liquefied, turning to quicksand, ensnaring their feet. At another gesture, it solidified, and they were trapped. Proteus gestured again, and the liquefied bullets at his feet flew up into his hands, regaining solidity.
With almost child-like glee, he tossed them all, nailing each soldier right between their eyes, killing them all... all but one.
"Wonder why I spared you?" he asked the remaining soldier, ankle-deep in the ground and stunned, crying, pleading for mercy. He shook his head.
"I wanna have some fun," replied Proteus darkly. Grinning like the child he was, he stretched out his hand at the poor, defenseless soldier.
And that's when things started to get... well... weird.
The soldier looked down at his hands, and saw -them- start to run like water! His body shifted, melting, reforming, and he screamed, the sounded distorted as his face and vocal cords began to morph. It was horrifying, it was too horrifying to describe. He kept screaming as his body split in half and he melted into the ground.
Proteus stepped away, releasing his psionic hold over the molecular structure. All returned to its original state, though now broken and scattered, including the one surviving soldier who hadn't been killed. He lay on his back, shivering, his arms wrapped around his body, his eyes opened wide. Proteus stepped up, moving to find more soldiers to kill... and more to have fun with.
"It... was... so... horrible...... no...... make it stop......"
All he could do was stare and whimper now.
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Another girl stepped out of a third such metal sphere, stretching out her arms at a leisurely pace, despite the surrounding guards. Like before, at the first two spheres, they couldn't bring themselves, so easily, to kill a small child.
The fight was over in half a second.
When it was over, every single soldier had been tossed around like sticks, their bodies broken and mangled, and the girl had suddenly moved almost fifty paces from her original spot. It was literally blink-at-you-miss-it fight.
In actuality...
Blink inhaled, drawing in her breath and holding it. And time slowed... slowed... and came to a dead stop. It had a surreal look to it, the colors faded and washed away. But at least Blink could still see everything. Nothing moved, no person, not the wind, not the grass at her feet. All was still.
That was good, it made her job considerably easier.
She jogged over to the first soldier, slamming her flat palm against the man's chest. It indented, and due to inertia, she knew he'd go flying the instant time resumed. She had the sort of strength that could shatter steel whenever she 'blinked.' So she repeated the gesture to every other soldier, killing them all, then finally, just as her lungs began to burn, let out her breath.
Time resumed, every single soldier had been tossed around like sticks, their bodies broken and mangled, and the girl had suddenly moved almost fifty paces from her original spot.
"I wish I no do that," said Blink in broken English, brushing her hands off against her child-sized uniform. Then she swept back her short, frizzy white hair, with the black lock in front of her eyes. It still hadn't completely grown back from when it'd been burnt off. But at least she'd escaped the fire.
Now it was there turn to burn.
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The fourth metal sphere met with a rather odd reaction, as the soldiers had lined up in two perfect lines as its occupant emerged. A short, dark-haired girl of about fifteen, covered head to toe in hideous scars. Her hands were outstretched, her fingers twitched.
She made no sound, but in her mind they could hear her. As her fingers twitched, the psionic strings she attached to her puppets jerked, and they moved. They were under -her- control now.
Time to pay for what you did to me, she thought, projecting her voice mentally. She'd lost her vocal cords to a particularly bad cut across her neck. But she would repay every scar the humans gave her in time. Every pain they'd given her, she would return a hundredfold.
Helpless, the human soldiers raised their guns in two lines, facing one another. They could see what was happening, of course. Hear it, see it, smell their own sweat and fear. But their bodies moved at her whim, as she jerked her fingers up and down, moving them like puppets. Each soldier's finger closed over the trigger to their weapon.
Die.
Masque's fingers twitched.
Each soldier opened fire at the same time, killing themselves and each other in seconds, ripping through their fragile pink flesh and letting blood splatter over one another, and even over Masque. She didn't cringe from the sickly fluids... she reveled in it. Grinning, she stepped forward into the carnage, and continued on her way. To find more puppets.
And more victims.
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Not all of the spheres landed in singles, however. Twos and threes landed at specific points, as well as far enough away from the soldiers in question to give their occupants a chance to get out and prepare themselves.
Thus it was that one of the human companies came across two empty spheres in the middle of the woods, having spotted the crashed and broken trees along the way, still freshly burnt from their entry. Their commander immediately had them start searching through the woods to find them.
Thus, in ones and twos, they were easily picked off.
Finally the commander realized his men were not responding, and began calling out for his troops.
"Goodspeed?! Mason?! Anderson?! Where are you, blast it?!"
Thus it was he finally stumbled upon two of his men... frozen in place like statues. Knives jutted out of their chests, and blood slowly pumped out, pooling on the ground. Despite this, they did not fall. Pre-death rigid-mortis. Their muscles were frozen, locking them in place. But that was... impossible.
Thus, he stumbled backwards fearfully, and didn't notice until the tiny brown-haired girl touched the back of his leg, freezing him in place too. He was shocked, and he couldn't move... could barely breath. And so it was that he could only watch as an ugly-green faced monster slunk out of the trees and stabbed another knife into -his- chest.
"Have a nice life... what's left of it," grunted Gauntlet, giving the knife a good twist, making sure the blood flowed out of the body. He nodded to Torpid, and the little girl followed after him as they picked off the remaining soldiers.
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Another empty two metal sphere was reached by a small squadron, their occupants long gone. However, they quickly found them. A blonde-haired boy no older than fifteen, and a brown-haired fellow with strange white eyes and a black sash covering the lower part of his face.
In seconds, all the soldiers were dead.
Misery stretched out his hands, focusing his powers. His mastery over the human emotions. And mutant emotions, but he rarely used it on his own people. The soldiers suddenly felt profoundly calm, and dropped their weapons, happier than they'd ever been in their entire lives. That was when Chamber advanced upon them, and they made no move to defend themselves. They were too happy. Everything was good, they thought.
They continued to think this as he tore away his shirt and the sash covering his face, exposing the pulsating psychic energy that had been brought into view by his childhood accident. His entire torso and lower face had been torn away, and now all that could be seen was the cackling, brilliant white energy that filled his body. Focusing his power, he launched it at the soldiers, frying their minds. They collapsed, dead.
How unpleasant, remarked Chamber, glancing at his companion. He had no vocal cords or mouth anymore, so he had to use his telepathy to communicate with anyone. Most of his comrades up on Asteroid M had grown used to it.
"Could be worse," remarked Misery. "Could be us getting our minds fried by those ugly experiments."
True enough.
"Let's go... Gauntlet wants the teams to converge in sector C-3. We should get moving."
Understood.
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At the final sphere, a black-clad girl flipped back her violet locks, smiling as she regarded the carnage around her. Her uniform was skin-tight and black, tinged with purple in the light. She'd specially designed it herself, accented her curvy body, slashes specially made along her legs, arms, and stomach to give tantalizing glimpses of milky-white skin. Unmarred skin. They hadn't even managed to lay a finger on her. Testimony to her extensive training.
Grinning, she held up her fist, admiring the pulsating violet psi-blade she'd activated moments before. Quite efficient at slicing through metal guns and human flesh. And even if she hadn't had that, the few she'd managed to take down with her equally deadly body would've been enough.
Smirking, Psylocke de-activated her psi-blade, letting it fade away, and stretched out her limbs.
She did enjoy a good work out.
Author's Notes:
The battle scenes were decidedly too long, so I've broken them up into four chapters. This is part two, with more to come afterwards, showing how mutants fight when nothing like morals get in their way. Obviously I need to identify the mutants above, since most are canon or OC's. Let's see. Siryn is canon, she's Banshee's daughter, same powers only better, and real name is Theresa. She showed up in X2, as well, briefly. Following her was David MacTaggert, Proteus, also known as Mutant X. Molecular rearrangement. In layman's terms, turns anything into anything. Verrrry powerful, very child-like, very uncontrollable. Blink is Gabi, an OC from Internutter and Scribbler's (and a heck of a lot of other writers) stories 'Listen what the Man Said' and 'Learning to Fly.' She can freeze time by holding her breath. Masque, as well as the subsequent Misery, are OC's from Comet-hime's 'Queer' soon to be renamed 'Triangle' story. This Masque is not to be confused with the evil face-morphing Morlock from the comics. Chamber's canon, he's a really messed up psychic with some missing body pieces. Psylocke's canon, a british ninja. Come on, you all know who those two are. If not I pity you.
Todd fan: And that, as they say, is only the beginning. Muwahahaha. Though you're prematurely mourning for Beast. His eyes closed… but he isn't dead. Yet. I've got bigger things in story for the Other blue furry mutant (get it, the other white meat? Meh, my humor is wasted on you).
Sebsastian1: Well, there's your reply review. I hope it was appreciated but I'm curious to know why you wanted it from me? I'm not that much of a horror writer, and the most I've ever dealt with nightmares was my XME story of the same name. Nightmares.
DaughterofDeath: I think I will.
Sashi: Kinda like… use the Force, Luke? Hehe. Nah just kiddin. But we'll see, I am trying to think of new, original stories all the time. And once I move out of XME, I'll be in unknown waters, and have much more freedom. Glad you liked the ass-kicking of Husk and Torrent. Much more of that to come.
Princess Myra: To be honest I wasn't terribly keen on Kinomi's story either, since I learned it was about Bobby… but I love her OC Darcy. And she does write such beautiful and romantic scenes between the two of them, doesn't she? I hope my battle scenes did not disappoint with the other OC's.
X00001: Your hope… will be dashed. Many more will die, many more will suffer, many more will be in pain. This is WAR, damnit. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing! Muwahahaha!
Risty: Curse you and your lack of geographically knowledge! Uhm… the Thames dried up. Nuclear war, you know how it is. Beast is -not- dead, as I told Todd fan. His eyes closed. I wanted to frighten you all… and I did! Muwahahaha! Thank you for appreciating the work I put into my battle scenes.
Spectra2: Its high blasphemy… yet no, I do not enjoy chocolate. That is my burden to bear. And don't worry about offending me I'm atheist too. Or agnostic, or something along those lines. Thank you for the pros and cons of my story. As always, input is vastly appreciated. And yes, even mini-rants. I love mini-rants.
Perturbedpercy: Considering Gambit is DEAD and BURRIED (God I love that) this cannot possible be a Romy. Its AU as well, so there is constant emphasis of Rogue returning home and everything that happens here to be inconsequential.
Nessie6: I wouldn't know, I confess my info on Husk is limited mostly to her powers. That and she's a blonde. More comin' atcha with the speed of Quicksilver. I am seriously on a roll, and might have this wrapped up in time for summer. Giving me even more time to work on my new projects.
Elrohirthewriter: To your Grim Reaper muse, I quote the oh so wise Brody when I say "Go and… wreak havoc." David? What on earth gave you the impression… oh, you're upset because he's getting terrible surgery. And Beast is not dead already! Kurt and Rogue later, more deaths first.