Across an ocean, a middle aged man sat alone in a room and read some official-looking forms that were piled on his desk. A knock on his door didn't startle him – he gave no indication of even having heard it.

A voice called from outside in the hall. "Sir?"
The middle-aged man glanced up from the papers on his desk and answered with a very British accent. "Come in."
A soldier dressed in black with a powerful-looking pistol in a holster at his side entered the room and closed the door behind him. "We just received a report from the control division. Their tracking consoles just picked up a very interesting signal."
The man behind the desk raised an eyebrow. "And?"
The soldier gave a grim smile. "Subject 01500-4127 just activated his powers. We have his location now, sir."
A gasp. "Are you sure? You've found 4127?"
The soldier nodded. "He's in America, sir. Near a city called 'Bayville', sir."
The man stood up from his chair. "Assemble a team. I want everything we've got, and stock up on the tranquilizers." He smiled. "And release Trinity."
The soldier paled. "Sir, are... are you sure about that last one?"
"Yes. With 4127's training, we'll never catch him if he gets a chance to fight back. Trinity is the only one with a chance of keeping him distracted for more than a few minutes, if it comes to that."
The soldier swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"I want the team ready within the hour. I'm coming too – I want to see 4127 myself when we capture him. You are excused." The soldier saluted and left.

The strange man moved to his window and looked out over the western horizon. I've got you now, my boy... You won't escape me again.

And with that thought, Dr Francis Baine left his office and prepared to leave for America with the rest of the Genetex assault team.

----

The assembled members of the institute sat around the table in the dining room. They weren't eating dinner; they were discussing recent developments. In one small group sat Bobby, Rahne, Amara, Jubilee and Jamie, the latter of whom was wrapped in a blanket and being virtually interrogated by the former quartet on what, exactly, had happened to him. Kitty, Evan, Rogue, Jean and Scott sat in another group. Scott had his injured arm in a sling and a scowl on his face; Evan was suggesting that perhaps Jamie was a better team leader since his PR skills eclipsed those of Scott; and the others were alternating between ooohing over the injured Scott and looking nervously out the windows.
At the head of the table sat a grinning Logan, smoking an expensive cigar and smirking victoriously at Hank. He was flanked by Charles, who looked concerned with the world in general and the present in particular, Hank the aforementioned loser of the bet, and Ororo, who had a long-suffering expression on her face as she watched Hank sulking. Finally, Charles cleared his throat and spoke.

"All right. We all know why we're here, don't we?" There was a general murmur of assent, and Charles continued. "This is a serious issue. Whilst the hermit, whoever he may be, is evidently benevolent enough to have helped Jamie, he's an extremely dangerous individual."
"No shit," muttered Scott. Charles glared at him and continued.
"In any event, he is a mutant – Cerebro has confirmed it – and he needs our help. As such, we are going to do what we can. A few of us will go and search for him and attempt to calm him down, and the rest will remain here." He sighed. "I suppose there aren't any volunteers?"
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Jamie spoke up. "I will," he said timidly. Charles smiled.
"Excellent, Jamie. I was going to ask you, anyway; it's likely he'll trust you more than the rest of us after having saved your life. For the rest of you, I was hoping that Rahne, Evan and Amara would accompany Ororo and Hank on a search for him."
Rahne spoke up. "And why us? We're not exactly the best bet fer dealin' with a loon in the woods..."
"No, you're not," replied Charles. "And you are not intended to fight this hermit, only to aid him. You, Rahne, can track him... Evan is a boy about the hermit's own age... Hank is an example of someone who has undergone physical changes... Ororo is the most 'motherly' figure we have here, which should appeal to the hermit's damaged psyche... and Amara can speak German, which as I understood the hermit's mind is his native tongue. He doesn't seem to speak much English."
Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Amara? Where did you learn to speak German?"
Amara sniffed. "A princess is ever an ambassador for her people, peasant. As such I am virtually fluent in half a dozen different languages – among them, German."
"Then it's agreed, yes? Good." Charles wheeled himself away from the table. "Get ready – you'd best leave as soon as possible." He left.

The other mutants looked at each other, and began to disperse. "Poindexter," called Logan.
Hank sighed and turned around. "Yes, Logan?"
"Don't make any bets while you're up there. The hermit might get a little offended at you trying to convince him he doesn't exist..."
Hank scowled, then reached out and snatched away Logan's cigar before knuckling off at a rapid pace. A moment later, there was the sound of a flushing toilet. Logan cursed.
"This means war..."

----

Dr. Baine leaned over the pilot's shoulder and squinted out into the night ahead.
"Can't this bucket of bolts move any faster?" he barked.
"I'm sorry sir," replied the pilot automatically. "We're fighting the wind, and if we move any faster there's a good chance we'll crash."
"How good a chance?"
The pilot blinked. "Uuuh... five to one, sir?"
Baine considered for a moment. "Increase our speed. 4127 will know that we're coming, and he may have already left. We need be there already, not in six hours."
"But sir..."
Baine regarded him coldly. "Are you questioning my orders? Very well, how about this – if we make it there in time, you will be rewarded. If not, you will be punished. Severely. Oh, and one other reason to increase your speed: Trinity is getting restless. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the implications of that."
The plane increased its speed rapidly. Baine laughed and walked to the back of the plane, to a large holding pen built into the cargo bay. Lights flashed on its sides, indicating the presence of power dampers; a small, barred window was built into the door. Baine walked up to this window and called into the cell.

"Trinity? Are you in there, my little pet?"
A deep, hoarse whisper answered him. "We wait. Revenge. We want revenge on the demon, yes."
Baine smiled coldly. "And you will have it. You will be the one to capture him, Trinity. Won't that be nice?"
"Yeeessss..."
Baine walked away, lost in thought.
What a team the two would make... pity they're enemies. Oh well – after this, we'll know which one is the better fighter, at any rate. He looked at his watch. 4127... what are you doing now, my boy?

----

At present, Kurt was in his cave. He was kneeling. His knife lay on one side of him, ready to be snatched up. On the other side lay a long, curved sword.
Kurt was praying feverently.
He was also waiting for the hunters to come. He knew they were coming, and he knew they were expecting him to run. He'd always run before. He'd had to fight, sometimes, but then he'd only made them back off and then escaped.
Not any more. Kurt was never going to run again.
This time, the hunters would learn to leave him alone. For good.
Unconsciously, his tail curled around the hilt of the sword at his side.

----

"How much further?" Complained Amara. The 'search party' had almost reached the turnaround point for the morning run, with Rahne leading the way and sniffing at the ground. Rahne turned her lupine head and transformed her vocal chords enough to answer.
"It's nae far. We're almost at the point where we lost Jamie, and from there we just follow his scent until it crosses paths with the hermit."
"Fine with me, man," announced Evan. "I'm freezing off my finely-toned..."
"Evan!"
"...Uh... muscles? Sorry, Auntie O."
They trudged on, until eventually Rahne jumped back with a whine.
Jamie knelt and rubbed the top of her head. "Rahne? Are you okay?"
"Aaaah... aye, Jamie, it's just... oh, dear Lord, what a stink!" Rahne rubbed her nose with her lupine paws whilst Hank knuckled over and sniffed the ground.
"Sulfur? What on earth would a pile of sulfur be doing out here?"
"Or in the Rec room," added Evan. "Logan said he could smell some in there, and even Jamie smelled a bit like it, too. Could be something to do with this dude's power..."

Rahne coughed. "It's nae important. I've got the lad's scent, and it's easy to follow since he stinks of the stuff, too. Let's get on with it, then."

Charles? Ororo sent out a mental request.
Yes, Ororo?
Rahne has his scent. We're getting close.
Excellent. Notify me when you find him...

As it was, they continued their snowbound trek for another hour before they came to their destination – a tunnel leading into a sheer cliff face, the area bare of trees in a 20-metre radius around the cave as though shying away from whatever dwelled within. Sitting inside the entrance to the cave was an animal bone; more specifically, a deer's skull. Jamie looked nervous.
"Why did he put that there?"
Amara agreed. "If the hermit did not wish to be found, why would he mark his –ugh- dwelling with THAT?"
"It's not a marking," said Hank softly. "And it's not a greeting."
Ororo blinked. "Then what is it?" she asked.
"A threat. A warning not to enter the cave."
Fearful glances passed between the group, before Amara swallowed. "Well, let's do what we came here for..." she strode purposefully up to the cave, but slowed as she heard a voice, faint as a whisper.
"...Dein Reich komme. Dein Wille geschehe auf Erden wie in Himmel. Unser täglich Brot gib uns heute..."
Amara wasn't a catholic, but she knew those words as well as anyone with a worldly education would. She turned to the others. "He... he's praying..." The others looked blank, so she continued. "The hermit. He's in the cave, and he's reciting the Lord's Prayer."
Hank drew in his breath sharply. "Well, that's something – if he's religious, maybe he'll believe that we only want to help him?"
Rahne shook her head. "I dinnae think so. Mos' people only recite the Lord's prayer when they're on their deathbed. I think he's prepping himself up fer somethin'."
Hank tried to reply to that, but a sudden explosive sound of Jet engines drowned out the sound of his words. As one, the group looked up at the sky.
What the hell?

----

Inside his cave, Kurt also heard the roar of the jets. He'd been aware of the hunters outside his cave for some time now, but had hoped to finish his prayer before acting. Now, he'd run out of time.
Nothing left to do now but risk it... he decided.
Death was, in any event, better than being trapped and taken back to Genetex.

Kurt scooped up his blades and ran toward the cave entrance.