"YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

As one, the heads of the search party snapped up as Kurt's war cry tore through the air like that of a mortally wounded foghorn. The shout was closely followed by a hurtling blue ball of devastation, who practically flew out of the mouth of the cave. Perhaps because Hank was the bigger target, Kurt leapt at him first; the sword traced a shallow cut across the bigger mutant's ribs, and a spinning kick sent him flying backwards.
Ororo was next. She watched, dumbfounded, as Kurt backflipped off Hank's chest through the air toward her, and never even had time to dodge as a foot slammed into her solar plexus. The pain cleared her mind, however, and she suddenly raised one hand. A bolt of lightning shot from her palm and hurtled toward Kurt, who promptly teleported. Rahne had, unfortunately, been standing behind Kurt. The blast knocked her back into the rock wall, where she resumed her human form an instant before passing out. Ororo never saw this happen, however; she was already unconscious. Kurt reappeared behind her and struck two kicks to her head before he even landed.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"
Evan slammed bodily into Kurt's back as he landed lightly on the ground, forcing Kurt away from his aunt. A shove sent Kurt rolling away, while Evan stopped and focused his powers. Bony plates grew and covered his skin; bone spikes sprouted from his shoulders, elbows, knees, and the backs of his hands; and a single projectile flew at Kurt and grazed his shoulder, just enough to draw blood. "You want a fight, freakshow? Bring it on!"
Kurt growled and pounced. His first blows had no effect; the sword and knife simply glanced off Spyke's bony carapace. Evan fought back; he drew blood again in a small scratch along Kurt's face. Swinging wildly now, he pressed his advantage, forcing Kurt back. Kurt parried swiftly, causing tiny fragments and shards of bone to fly everywhere at each blow traded between the combatants. Suddenly, Kurt changed his tactics; switching the knife to his tail and gripping the sword in both hands, he leaped high into the air and slammed the long sword down on Evan's head. Hard. The blade bit deeply into the bone shield; not quite penetrating, but stunning Evan nonetheless. As the younger mutant fell back, helpless, Kurt steeled himself. Evan's eyes were not protected; they were a vulnerability. Kurt sighted along the blade and prepared to ram it into Evan's brain.

This must be done, he told himself. Make them realize you won't go back to that place...
NO! screamed another part of his mind. He's helpless now, he's beaten! This is wrong!
You must, said half of him.
You must not, said the other half.
It is for your own survival!
And the price you'll pay is your own humanity!
Imprisonment in Genetex!
Thou Shalt Not Kill!

The inner debate lasted for no more than a few seconds, but for Kurt – and Evan, who watched through horrified but unfortunately vulnerable eyes – it went on for an eternity. Finally, Kurt lowered his sword. He was not a killer, no matter how hard he tried: there was no way he could kill a helpless man, even to save his own life.
Then he noticed movement off to one side. Turning, he saw Amara, burning brightly and trying desperately not to look afraid, standing behind Jamie, who was armed with Evan's single bone projectile.
"Let him go!" squeaked Jamie, who was trying to ignore the quiver he heard in his own voice.
Kurt looked around, for the first time taking in the full depth of his surroundings. His astonished gaze lingered for a moment on Hank, who was slowly getting up, before returning his attention to Jamie – the boy he'd rescued. It made no sense that this boy would be hunting him. He shook his head.

"Vas in der teufel's namen?"

----

In the mansion at the base of the hills, a similarly one-sided battle was taking place. The Genetex soldiers were highly trained, and each man specialized in combating and capturing mutants. Armed with tranquilizers and stun guns as they were, the crack team of highly elite troops were more than a match for the totally unprepared X-Men.

Logan was, ironically, the first to go down. He charged the soldiers seconds after they disembarked the jet and managed to knock one or two unconscious; then he collapsed with three darts in his back and burn marks on his chest from the stun guns.
With methodical precision, the troops moved through the institute one room at a time. None of the students were able to offer any resistance – they never had time. The soldiers burst doors open, fired into the rooms, and left as their targets were still recoiling from the strike of the darts. Not one of the eighteen remaining soldiers received so much as a scratch. Within ten minutes, the mutants were mostly unconscious and entirely helpless.
The last one captured was Professor Charles Xavier, finally held at gunpoint in his own study by no less than five troops – and Dr Baine himself.

----

Baine turned to his men.
"4127 isn't here. Release Trinity and use him to continue the search over a wider area." One soldier saluted and left the room. Baine turned back to look at Charles. "And why don't we have a little chat, hmmm?" He noticed the tea tray on Charles' desk. "May I?"
Charles looked at him coldly. "Be my guest. How do you take it – cream? Sugar? Lemon? Iodine...?"
Baine smiled. "You're brave in the face of adversity, my friend. I like that in an opponent." He poured himself a cup of tea. "Allow me to introduce myself... my name is Dr. Francis Baine. I am head of a biological research center known as Genetex in western Germany, though I myself was educated at Oxford University..." He looked inquiringly at Charles. "And you?"
"I am Professor Charles Xavier," replied Charles stiffly. "Since you wouldn't really care about my education or life's achievements, and I don't particularly wish to tell you about either, I'll forgo the formalities. What are you doing here, why have you gunned down my students and staff, and who or what is 4127?"
Baine's answer was interrupted by a knock on the door and a nervous- sounding voice calling through it. "Dr. Baine?" Baine looked up at the sound of his name.
"Yes, commander?"
"We've brought Trinity here, sir. He's waiting to see you now."
Baine drained the last of his tea. "Excellent. Send him in... oh, and while you're at it, get me one of the younger mutants we caught. The tall one with his arm in a sling."
Charles glared at him. "What do you want with my students?" he repeated.
Baine smiled benignly. "Why Xavier, isn't it obvious? I want to re-enlist an old student of my own..."
His voice trailed off as heavy footsteps approached the door. "And speaking of my students, here's my star pupil now. Come in, Trinity," he called.

Charles wasn't a religious man, but he had to fight the urge to cross himself as 'Trinity' entered. The man – at least, the thing looked male – was the most horrifying, deformed beast Charles had ever seen.
Had Logan been in the room, he would have likely compared the monstrosity to Sabretooth. Sabretooth, however, wasn't this big. Trinity bordered on eight feet, and his arms hung low like Hank's. His mouth was full of teeth that were the size and shape of steak knives, all curving in like those of a shark. At the ends of his fingers curled long claws, and those arms... the muscles strained against Trinity's black uniform as though about to break through. A bestial face, framed by dank, light-brown hair that hung to Trinity's shoulders, was shaped into a perpetual grimace, and the eyes glowed a hateful red, with no pupils or whites visible. Almost absurdly out of place were the large, white-feathered wings on Trinity's back, looking for all the world as though the beast had stolen them from an angel. They, Charles realized, were likely the reason for his religious-sounding callsign.
Charles sent out a questing mental probe, but recoiled from what he found; a seething ball of hatred and anger. Charles braced himself and probed deeper into Trinity's mind. Memories of pain, suffering, torture, every imaginable injustice and mistreatment were heaped upon the Professor, but he persevered. Finally, in the very center of Trinity's mind, Charles found something; a deep sadness, an aching regret. This tiny shred of self-pity was all that remained of the human being that Trinity once was.
This creature was, in every sense of the word, a monster.

Trinity lumbered into the room, stopped before Dr. Baine, and bowed his head.
"Massster..." Trinity's voice was more of a deep-throated growl than anything else. Dr. Baine smiled broadly.
"Trinity, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He's the one that's been harboring 4127."
"We hhaaaaaate the Demon..."
"Yes, Trinity, we do. But now, we're going to find him. Isn't that nice?"
"We wait..."
"Good." Baine turned to face Charles. "What do you think of my little pet, Xavier?"
Charles found his voice at last. "What... what did you do to him, you... you fiend?" he spat.
Baine frowned. "I perfected him. When I found Trinity, he was a spoiled little rich brat – damn me now, what was his name..." he snapped his fingers. "Worthington! That was it, Worthington! Just a foolish little snob that wouldn't have beaten an infant in a fight. And now..." he turned to his creation. "... have you ever seen a finer warrior?"
Charles shuddered at the thought of what must have been done to the boy that Trinity had once been. "I don't know who the greater monster is here, Baine. You or your demon."
Baine whirled around. "Trinity is not my demon, Xavier. My demon is why I've come here. 4127 is my demon, and I WANT HIM BACK! Now, if not sooner!"
Charles looked defiant. "And what did you do to him? To 4127?"
Baine looked regretful. "Nothing. Yet. I don't perform experimental enhancements on mutants until I know of all their abilities. 4127 escaped the same day that his abilities manifested, so he's still very much the way he was born. I didn't make 4127 different, Xavier. God did that. Now I want 4127 back so I can finish what God started."

The door suddenly opened and a pair of guards entered dragging the unconscious Scott. "Ah!" Exclaimed Baine. "Perfect timing!" The guards deposited Scott's form on the carpet, glanced nervously at Trinity, and left. Baine looked at Charles once more. "One of yours, Xavier?"
When Charles did not answer, Baine gave a cold smile and continued. "I told you that I enjoyed a courageous opponent, Xavier. That's because men with courage always have to be heroes, and although heroes can 'take one for the team', as it were, they can never abide the suffering of others. As such, I know you'd rather sell out than watch one of your students die in front of you." As Baine beckoned to his creation, Trinity lumbered forward, lifted Scott in one huge claw, and held him off the ground at arm's length.
"You are going to tell me where 4127 is, Xavier, or Trinity here will show this young man exactly what he is capable of..."