Disclaimer: X-Men – not mine. But I'm gonna do bad, bad things to 'em. And I'm gonna enjoy it. Even if I'm not making any money off of this.
Warning: In this chapter, someone is going to die. It will not be graphic or violent, and I don't think it's anyone many of us will miss. But, if that kind of thing upsets you, don't read this.
And let me apologize in advance to any of you who may be of Jewish descent or of the Jewish faith. I have a feeling I have totally butchered the Kaddish, in both form and usage, but it fit where I needed it to and for what I needed it for.
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Paper Flowers
Chapter 12 – The Living and The Dying
She awoke from a dream of raging fire, blue white flames boxing her in on all sides, the metallic ring of clashing swords, and a book, lying on an altar, light streaming from it's fluttering pages, fully expecting to find the Soulsword floating in front of her, the Bloodstone Amulet in her hand, but none of that happened.
It was simply dark and, for the briefest moment, Kitty had no idea where she was. Then her senses registered the soft, rhythmic breathing, close to her face, the warmth of another body pressed against her back, the arm curled snugly around her waist, and she remembered.
And it nearly broke her heart all over again.
The sun wasn't up yet. The skylights above her showed only darkness with a smattering of dim stars, scattered like tiny jewels on a black velvet cloth. There was no moon, no way for her to gauge how long she might have been asleep or how long it would be until sunrise. She only knew it wouldn't be long enough.
It was time to go. Kitty understood that, but the knowledge didn't make it any easier.
All the things she'd told herself tonight - how they deserved this one night together, that maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and that maybe, just maybe, she might actually be able to beat this thing and come back to him - it all came rushing back on her here, in the quiet dark.
Such pretty, almost believable, lies. So well crafted she'd almost been able to convince herself. And, for one, brief, instant, she'd been almost normal, almost happy, almost hopeful. Sometimes, pretty lies were all a person had to go on if they wanted to keep going.
She gave herself just a few more minutes, to enjoy the feel of his arm around her, the comfort of his solid, warm body next to her, to remember the few hours of peace, hope, and love they'd shared. The memories they'd made together tonight might very well have to do her for the rest of her life.
It would have to be enough. She would make it enough. It was more than she'd ever believed she could have to begin with.
When her few minutes were over, Kitty resolutely pushed all the hurt, all the longing, all the regret and tears, down into that little box inside herself, the one she could lock everything away in until she had the time and energy to deal with it. There wasn't time to sort through it all now. Maybe there never would be.
Right now, she had work to do. So, she shoved everything into that little box, locked it up tight, gave it a good mental shove, and exiled it into a dark little corner of her heart and mind, along with all the other little boxes labeled "To be dealt with at a later date". It was getting pretty crowded in there these days.
With that done, she simply phased herself through the bed, the floor, an empty guest room directly beneath the attic, and on and on until she reached the level she wanted.
She ended up in a storage closet, without a stitch on, but that didn't particularly bother her. It wasn't very likely she'd run into any of her team mates at this time of night/morning, and her room was only a few doors away.
In only a few seconds, she was inside her own room and she wondered briefly if anyone had been checking either hers, or Peter's room, during the night to see if they reappeared. As she pondered the question, Kitty decided there was very good possibility, especially under the circumstances, that Ororo, at least, and possibly Kurt, Hank, and Cecelia, as well, had been keeping an eye out for one or both of them.
She wasn't worried about Logan. If he had thought it necessary to find her, he would have tracked her down long before now.
Keeping in mind that one of the others could come by at any time, Kitty quickly gathered up her shower supplies, took the worlds fastest shower, and came back to her room for the last time.
Within fifteen minutes, she'd dressed in her newest fighting gear, arranged her long, still damp, hair into a thick braid down her back, and gathered up her remaining belongings and clothes that she had any interest in, along with her laptop and katanas. It all fit tidily into a couple of duffle bags. She always had been one to travel light.
Going to her desk, she reached down through the wood top into the secret compartment only she knew about and only she could access. It didn't have a door or access panel, just a small, open space within the wood where she kept the very few things that no one else knew she possessed. Not even Logan or Kurt.
Withdrawing her hand, she opened one duffel bag and threw in the credit cards, cash, passports in three different names, from three different countries - all perfectly legitimate - and the little black address book full of names and phone numbers.
Her relationship with Pete Wisdom may not have ended well, but she had reaped several benefits from their association. Never being one to let any opportunity to learn something new pass her by, Kitty had been a willing pupil for anything...well, almost anything...that the ex-Black Air agent had wanted to teach her. As a bonus, she'd made more than one contact within the spy community, most of whom were still active in the field.
She might not need them, but one never really knew what might come in handy where she was going.
That done, she again let the molecules of her body go, slipping through her bedroom floor, floating softly on molecules of air, through level after level, until she hit the garage sub-level.
Landing lightly, soundlessly, on the floor, she made her way through the dark garage to one little-used corner, where a awkward shaped lump sat, waiting patiently.
Pulling the protective cover off the semi-hidden object, she revealed the little, blood red and chrome Sportster that had been Logan's secret gift to her.
Regarding it fondly, Kitty remembered how Logan had given it to her on her twenty-first birthday, as a surprise. He'd threatened her life if she told Storm he'd gotten it for her, saying that Ororo would skin him alive. And she probably would have. So it had remained their little secret.
It wasn't the monster bike that his big Harley was. It was small, sleek, quick, maneuverable. Right up her alley.
She hadn't had a lot of time to ride the little motorcycle, but she and it got along very well. They understood each other. They were very much alike, both small, appearing rather unassuming, and perfectly harmless. And they both packed a hell of a punch when the occasion called for it. Looks could be very deceiving.
Settling her two bags onto the rear seat and strapping them to the sissy bar, making sure they were secured properly, Kitty turned and left it for the moment. There were still things to be done before she could leave and time was running short.
Her next stop was the monitor room. It only took her about five minutes to locate and erase all security tapes that showed any parts of her, or her and Peter's, activities during the night. She paid particular attention to the tapes from the medlab, wanting to make sure they were completely and totally destroyed.
What had happened between her and Peter, what had been said and done, was their business alone. Kitty wasn't about to let Ororo, Hank, Cecelia, or anyone else, pull those tapes and translate what they'd said to one another. Some things were not team business, no matter what anyone else thought.
Next, she temporarily disabled security in the Professor's ready room, as well as the medlab, and all the security cameras scattered along the route her last few errands would take her. It was a simple matter.
After all, Kitty had designed, implemented, and installed nearly all of the security equipment and programs in the entire complex. Surely, they didn't think she wouldn't leave herself a way to bypass them if necessary.
Oh, the cameras would all come back on. Eventually. After she was out and long gone.
There was no doubt in Kitty's mind that they would be looking for her, considering what she was about to do, but she wasn't going to make it easy for them to find her. Her trail would be one Logan himself would have real trouble following.
Ghosts don't tend to leave any scents to go by.
Kitty doubted very seriously, however, that he'd even try. At least, not to lead the rest of the X-Men to her, anyway. And she didn't have any illusions that he couldn't find her if he truly wanted to, for his own sake. He'd taught her nearly everything she knew and they thought too much alike.
Once she was done, she made her way to Professor Xavier's personal ready room. Among all the rooms of the mansion, this was the only one not open to, pretty much, anyone and everyone. You only came here by invitation. Normally. But not this time.
Easily phasing herself inside, she went directly to her target, wasting no time in gathering up what she'd come for. The Professor hadn't even bothered to lock them up. She was out again within forty five seconds.
Having stashed the items in one of the duffel bags already strapped onto the little motorcycle, Kitty airwalked back up through the ceiling, making her way quickly into the medlab.
Luck was with her and she found the main lab empty as she materialized up through the floor. Of course, Hank and Cecelia had moved the Legacy sample out of the main refrigeration unit. Hopefully, they'd destroyed it. If they'd been smart, they'd have destroyed all the samples of the cure.
But they were too predictable and Kitty knew them too well.
They might have moved or done away with the main sample, but they hadn't bothered with the working samples stored in the lab next door. Those were all nice and safely locked up. No one could possibly get to them. Yeah. Right.
Both doctors worked with her every day, had known her for years, watched her walk through walls, slip between worlds, as a matter of course. She could reach her hand into someone's chest and pull out their still-beating heart without leaving a mark. It had apparently never occurred to any of them that the girl who could do all that wouldn't be deterred by a locked refrigerator.
Being very careful, Kitty didn't even disrupt the electronic lock on the cold safe where the samples were stored as she reached in, picked up a vial, and phased it right back out the door of the unit. With any luck at all, they wouldn't even know it was missing until it was all over.
Even though she knew she was running against the clock, she couldn't help but take a moment to study the small vial of bright pink liquid.
So much had happened, so many atrocities had been committed in the name of the Legacy virus and this cure. She sincerely hoped what she was about to do might bring an end to some of that. And, perhaps, serve as just a bit of justice for some of those atrocities.
Slipping the vial in her jacket pocket, she left the medlab, floating like a ghost through the dark, silent house. As she followed her route to the next stop, she took a moment to look around this house where she'd spent so much of her life, sacrificed so much of herself, of what she'd wanted, for one man's Dream.
It was truly a beautiful home, all dark, wood paneling, tasteful, expensive carpeting, antiques and expensive knick-knacks scattered all about. But it was also a prison, of sorts.
Living here, hiding here, in this pretty, pastel fantasy world of wealth, alien technology, faster than light aircraft, awesome power, combat training, and secret missions, the X-Men tended to forget that there was a real world out there. A world where everyone didn't live in a mansion on a huge estate, couldn't call down thunder and lightning, where they had to actually work for a living, where they had jobs, husbands, wives, families, children. Where they had lives. Real ones.
All the huge mansions, grand estates, money, and technology in the world could never make up for what had been taken away from them, but none of them ever seemed to truly be able to get out, get away from this life, once they got sucked in.
But Kitty vowed she would get out. One way or another.
Reaching her next destination, she phased through the door into Professor Xavier's office. Sitting down at his desk, she pulled out a pen and paper and began to write.
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Peter was still fast asleep when she returned to the attic a short time later. Even with everything she'd done, Kitty had only been gone little more than an hour. That's all it had taken to pack up her life here.
Outside, the barest hint of dawn was just breaking over the horizon, casting a pale, pinkish yellow, glow to the early morning sky, where the stars still lingered stubbornly, as if unwilling to relinquish their foothold on the heavens.
Kitty could barely make out the curve of his jaw as she looked down to where he lay, but her heart yearned for him. Everything in her screamed at her to stay, to climb back into his arms and let everything else go directly to hell.
The only problem was, she had every idea that's exactly what would happen if she stayed here. They would all end up in hell. Literally.
No, she told herself firmly, the choice had already been made. She had to go. But that didn't make it any easier, or hurt any less. When she walked out of this place a few minutes from now, it would be for the very last time. Whatever came, Kitty never intended to set foot in this house again. Her time here was done.
Her fondest hope, the only real hope she had left, was that Peter would get out of here as well, go somewhere and make a life for himself apart from the X-Men. Maybe go back to his art.
Once, he'd had a life as Peter Nicholas, he'd been a successful artist. Charles Xavier had destroyed that. Maybe the reason had been sound. Maybe the Professor had been telling the truth when he'd said there was no other choice. Kitty hoped fervently that he had been, but she also had her doubts.
There was just too much that didn't add up, too many times when one or another of them had tried to leave, have normal lives, only to be forcibly pulled back in due to some "emergency" or another. It seemed that, like the mob, the only way out was death.
And, hell, around here, even that was no guarantee.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Kitty reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out three envelopes, laying them on her pillow, beside where Peter's head rested, where she knew he would find them.
One was addressed to Kurt, one to Logan, and one to Peter. In Kurt's, she'd said good-bye to the man who'd been like a brother to her. In Logan's, she'd left instructions on where he could pick up her little Sportster and a few messages for him to pass on to some of the other X-Men.
She hadn't bid him good-bye. He would understand what he meant to her and those kinds of words between them were unnecessary.
In Peter's, she'd poured out her feelings for him, her heart and soul, holding nothing back. She'd explained, as best she was able without being too specific, why she would probably never see him again. And she'd made one final request of him. Kitty hoped he'd be able to grant it. For his sake as well as her own.
Without even thinking about it, her hand reached out to touch him, her fingertips skimming his tousled hair for just a moment, letting the sable strands slip through her fingers. Just as her life seemed to have slipped from her grasp.
By sheer force of will, Kitty tamped down the raging grief, the heartrending sense of loss, the final shattering of every dream she'd ever had. There would be more than enough time to grieve later, and more than enough to grieve for.
Now, she had one final task to perform before she left this life far behind, one final loose end to tie up so that it could cause no further harm.
Kneeling down, Kitty pulled the big, round hatbox from under the bed. She wasn't taking it with her. Couldn't even if she wanted to. But there were a few things she had to take.
Opening it up, she easily found what she needed, even in the near darkness of the room.
She put the diary in her other jacket pocket, along with the copy of the first diary she'd found. They were bulky, but not unmanageable and she would transfer them to one of the duffle bags as soon as she got back down to the garage.
The Kinross crown she held in her hands for a few moments, watching as it almost glowed in the twilight of the attic room.
With only the smallest hesitation, she fit it onto her brow, as she'd done that night so many years, almost a lifetime, ago. It sat there as if it were made for her.
I may not have ever officially been Lady to the Laird of Kinross, and you may not be with me, Alisdhair, but I'm definitely about to ride into battle. Somehow, I think you'd approve.
Sliding the box back under the edge of the dust ruffle, Kitty turned back toward the bed, her heart clenching painfully as she took one last look at the man she loved, before phasing through the floor and disappearing.
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Standing in the shadows of one of the large oaks ringing the perimeter of the estate, Logan drew the early morning air into his lungs slowly, savoring the cool feel of it, the fresh, clean scent.
It had been a very long night and the house, large as it was, had simply become too confining. There were times when it was like that, days and nights when the place felt more like a cage than a home. Lately, those feelings seemed to come more and more frequently.
During those times, he tended to ask himself what the hell had ever possessed him to join up with this spandex circus in the first place. But he already knew the answer to that one.
All he had to do was take a look at Kit, or Jubes, think about what Ol' One Eye or the Weather Goddess or Charlie woulda made outta them, if he hadn't been around, and Logan had his answer. Somebody had to be the common sense, the cold voice of reality and reason. Somebody had to keep things grounded.
Funny it would turn out to be the one everybody considered the psycho of the bunch.
Pulling out his lighter, the flame flared briefly as he touched it to the end of his stogie, inhaling deeply, savoring the slightly bitter, slightly sweet flavor of the tobacco as it filled his lungs, mingled with the fresh, morning air, before puffing it out in one long, white cloud.
The damn place was gonna be in an uproar as soon as everybody pulled their carcasses outta bed. Hell, it had been that way last night till all ungodly hours.
'Ro had given him all flavors of hell at that damn club for letting Kit take off, but he wasn't a bit sorry. She never would understand the girl, not really. If she did, she wouldn't be wondering why he'd let her go.
Then, they'd got back here and found Hank and Cecelia fit to be tied, but they hadn't been able to get any details outta them. All he knew was that they'd been looking for Kit and Petey, just like every-damned-body else.
Made him really wonder what those two had done once they'd got back here, and he hoped it wasn't something he was gonna have to make Peter answer for later. They'd been down that road once before, years ago. Logan didn't particularly want to travel it again.
Besides, he had every idea that, whatever had happened earlier in the night, the two kids had managed to work at least some of it out themselves, as he'd hoped they would. But he also hoped Kitty hadn't let her emotions and hormones get ahead of her brain and done something she'd regret later.
Almost automatically, Logan's dark eyes shifted to the west wing of the mansion, his gaze hovering briefly on the roof line of the attic.
He coulda told them exactly where to find Kit and Pete, but he figured, if they wanted to be found, they'd have told somebody where they were going. He sure as hell couldn't blame them for wanting a little privacy.
They were both adults, had been for quite a while, and whatever they did behind closed doors was their business. As long as it was consensual, Logan wouldn't interfere. He just didn't want to see Kitty hurt again. And those two didn't seem to be able to do much else but hurt each other when they were together.
The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
The sound of a motorcycle engine revving up caught his attention, causing his head to jerk up reflexively, dragging him out of his thoughts, as it carried on the still morning air.
His sharp ears immediately honed in on the source and he turned as the little red Sportster shot down the driveway and out the front gate, the tires screeching as it made the sharp turn onto Greymalkin Lane, headed in the general direction of the city.
"What th' flamin'...!?"
Throwing his cigar down, Logan stared at the spot where the little bike had disappeared from sight, briefly torn on whether or not to try and follow it.
In the end, he decided to let her go. If there was trouble, well, she was a big girl. If she'd wanted him to know, she woulda told him. And if she didn't, even he couldn't force it out of her.
In that way, she was like him. Sometimes she had to learn the hard way to ask for help when she needed it, but she'd do her damnedest to handle things herself until she didn't have any other choice.
He really, truly, hoped she knew what she was doing. But something, some sense he couldn't define, told him that trouble was coming.
With a sigh, Logan jammed his hands into his coat pockets and turned toward the house, dreading what he knew would be a hell of an uproar before the morning was over.
The feral mutant spared one last glance toward the west wing attic, a sardonic smile crossing his face briefly before disappearing.
If Petey was a smart man, he'd get up and get the hell outta Dodge, too, while he still could.
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It was barely dawn when Peter woke. As soon as he was semi-conscious, before he even opened his eyes, he knew she was gone. Not just from the bed. Not just from the room or the house. But from his life.
The knowledge was like a lead weight in his heart, weighing him down, making it hard for him to breathe, but he found that it wasn't a surprise. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he'd known this was how it would end. Even as he'd held her, made love to her, he had known she wouldn't be here when he woke up.
It didn't ease the hurt at all.
He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the room. Nothing was different. Nothing had changed.
Everything was exactly as it had been when he'd gone to sleep. Except that Kitty was gone. And that changed everything.
Turning to slip out of bed, he noticed the envelopes on her pillow. Picking them up, he read the names on each one, written in her neat, efficient script.
No embellishments. No little curly spirals, or I's dotted with little hearts, or any of the dozen little cutesy things most girls did in their writing.
Just tidy, no nonsense, easily read handwriting. Straight forward and to the point. Just like Kitty.
Setting the other two envelopes aside, he opened the one addressed to him. Inside were three pieces of Xavier School stationary, filled with her words. He read each one, then went back and read them all again. He didn't even try to stop the tears that ran silently down his face as he dropped his head into his hands, sitting on the edge of the bed and wishing, as he'd never wished for anything before, that he had the ability to turn back time.
Afterwards, his countenance set, mind made up, he folded the letter up and put it back into it's envelope before laying it with the other two.
He stood, picked up the pile of clothes on the floor, hers and his, folded Kitty's into a neat stack and put his own back on.
That's when he noticed that the box of pictures was still under the edge of the bed, peeking out from beneath the of the dust ruffle. Pulling it out, he set it on the little desk and opened it up. He immediately noticed what items were missing, as he'd somehow already known they would be.
Closing the hatbox back up, he put it on top of the stack of her clothes, picked it all, along with the letters, up and headed downstairs to his own room.
He had a lot of things to do this morning. It was past time to get started.
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Hank McCoy yawned widely as he entered the medlab. Despite the fact that he'd, for once, gone to his own room for the night - instead of falling asleep over his microscope, as he was prone to do - he'd slept very little.
The events of the previous night kept replaying themselves over and over in his head, a bad movie reel stuck in a continuous loop. It hadn't exactly been the most pleasant way to spend the hours he should have been sleeping.
The large, blue furred man had faced many dangers in his time, had looked death in the face and, basically, laughed at it, over and over again. But never, in all his time with the X-Men, the Avengers, X-Factor, or any other team he'd ever been a part of, had he ever been as bone deep, overwhelmingly, and completely terrified as he had been last night, watching two young people he was exceedingly fond of play out a life and death scenario while he could only stand by helplessly, waiting.
At first, with Cecelia flying down the hall, screaming for him in a blind panic and dragging him, along with most of their resuscitation equipment, back to the main medlab and into that nightmarish scene, Hank hadn't been sure just exactly which one of the two people involved was actually trying to use the serum on themselves.
From the body language, the tone of voice, he would have almost placed a bet that it had been Kitty. It wouldn't have really surprised him, given her behavior of late. Hank knew things with her were far from normal, no matter what she claimed, and he had cursed himself for leaving that sample in the main cold storage unit, where it was easily accessible, in the first place.
But, he'd finally figured out that it was, instead, Peter who was holding the syringe, and that had almost been worse. His blood had run absolutely cold, remembering the young man's sister, how she'd died of this virus. How Peter had shut himself off from the world, and everything in it, for a time, unwilling to talk to anyone, listen to anyone, becoming someone that none of them even knew.
It had given him several very bad moments, as he wondered if even Kitty could talk the young Russian out of what he'd been about to do. She certainly hadn't been able to talk him out of running off to Avalon with Magneto during Illyana's funeral. The horrible thought had even crossed his mind, albeit briefly, that, instead of talking him out of it, Kitty might just join him. When Peter had finally turned the syringe over to Kitty, and she had, in turn, handed it to Hank, his relief had been too immense to measure.
Right now, he would give nearly anything to know exactly what she'd said to him during that time, exactly how she'd managed to get him to cooperate, but they'd been speaking in Russian, and he didn't know the language. Directly afterwards, Kitty had disappeared to parts unknown, with Peter not far behind her, neither giving him or Cecelia any chance to ask even the most basic questions.
Hank would have felt much, much better about the whole thing if Peter had remained in the medlab, at least overnight. But, even the large, blue, powerful Beast couldn't force a seven foot tall, five hundred pound, organic metal mutant to do something he didn't want to do. And, considering Peter's mood at the time, Henry McCoy wasn't about to pick that particular juncture to start trying.
It bothered him immensely, though, that neither Shadowcat nor Colossus had shown back up at all, either last night or so far this morning. Their beds hadn't been slept in and no trace of them could be found in any of the common rooms or the training facilities.
The doctor was sincerely hoping that they'd simply gone somewhere to talk things out in private, but there was still that little, niggling doubt lingering in the back of his mind. He'd feel much better once they were located and proven to be safe.
As he made his way into the smaller lab, the one they used primarily for Legacy research, Hank was telling himself that he'd have to remember to pull the security tapes from last night if the two missing X-Men didn't show back up soon. Maybe those could tell them where they had gone.
Because his mind wasn't on the task at hand, as he automatically punched in the code that opened the electronic lock on the secure cold storage unit, reaching in for one of the several samples they kept on hand, Hank almost didn't register the absence of one of the vials of Legacy cure they were using for research.
He'd almost closed the refrigeration unit's door again when it hit him. One paw reached out and snagged the door before it could fully close and he forced himself to concentrate, not to panic, remain calm, as he counted the number of vials.
By the sixth time he'd recounted everything, the sickening realization had finally settled on him irrevocably. There was a vial missing. No mistake. No doubt. It had been there last night and, now, it was gone.
He'd made an exact count last night before locking everything up. He knew exactly how many there should have been. But, this morning, they were one vial short.
Besides himself, there was only one other person who had the combination to the cold storage safe and Cecelia was still in bed, hadn't even got up yet. And she'd retired before him last night. Besides that, she never worked on the Legacy virus or cure without him present. He was the biologist, she was the trauma doctor. Hank knew there was no chance she'd taken one of the vials out for some purpose or other before he got here.
The good doctor also knew that the storage unit had definitely been locked since they'd left last night. There was no sign of forced entry anywhere, nothing else had been disturbed. There was only the one vial missing. And there was only one person who could have taken it and left no evidence to indicate anything had happened.
"Oh, dear God, no." Henry McCoy wasn't even aware that he'd spoken aloud. His mind was racing, showing him all the horrible, heartbreaking consequences that this might bring them, all of it in Technicolor and perfect in the most minute detail.
If he'd had time, he would have thrown up, passed out, screamed in panic at the top of his lungs, any and all of the above. But he didn't have that luxury.
With a swiftness born of pure, unadulterated, blind terror, Beast flew out of the medlab, sending up an alarm that rang through the entire mansion, immediately rousing everyone from their beds and throwing them automatically into defensive mode.
Dr. McCoy had only one thing on his mind. They had to find Katherine Pryde and Peter Rasputin. And they had to find them now.
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Morning had broken, clear and shining and new, by the time Kitty pulled the little Harley into an empty parking space in the lot of an already crowded , chain grocery store.
Switching off, she removed her helmet, put the keys in one pocket, dropped the kickstand, and left the motorcycle as she briskly made her way down a narrow alley between the market and it's neighboring business.
Re-emerging onto a side street, she turned left, traveling several blocks as traffic thinned and the streets opened up, shopping centers and strip malls giving way to occasional single business spaces and, finally, to open fields, trees, a house dotting the landscape here and there.
No one paid her much attention. She looked like any normal, teenage girl, probably on her way to school. Sometimes, the ability to look younger than you really were had it advantages.
In the end, she walked several miles before reaching her destination, but she wasn't tired in the least. Her adrenaline was pumping and she was impatient to be done with this last task.
As the low, sprawling complex came into view, Kitty ignored the little voice in her head that kept asking her if she really knew what she was doing. Her mind was made up. Her course was set. She would not turn back now.
Any time she even considered it, she let herself see that boatload of dead people, Moira's broken, torn body, Rhane, grieving for her mother, stripped of her powers, and – most effective of all – her imaginations vivid image of Peter's dead body, sprawled out on the medlab floor.
If anything could shore up her determination, should it begin to wane, it was those images.
The entire area was completely enclosed in ten foot high chain link, razor wire curling around the top, guard houses sitting, like tall, silent judges, at intervals all around the perimeter fence. There would be guards in those towers, as well, watching the buildings and surrounding yard. But none of that presented even the smallest challenge to someone of her abilities.
With the merest thought, Kitty sank into the earth, making her way underground until she was fairly sure she was far enough away that the guards wouldn't spot her as she re-emerged.
She came up just in back of the huge prison complex. Looking around for a moment, Kitty got her bearings and turned to her right, phasing through a wall just enough to check and make sure there wasn't anyone in the immediate area.
When she was satisfied that the coast was clear, she walked through the wall and into the deserted hallway.
Kitty knew exactly where she was. She'd studied the blueprints for this place in great detail before she'd left Westchester. It should be a simple matter to find the section she was looking for, do what she'd come to do, and go back out the way she'd come in.
There were probably security cameras, but there wasn't anything she could do about them and, most likely, by the time any kind of alarm was raised, she'd be long gone.
Walking on air, a few inches above the floor, so as not to make any sound, Kitty moved steadily toward her destination, taking in her surroundings as she went and shaking her head in disgust.
Why they'd chosen to bring her here, she'd never know. It was too low tech, not nearly high-security enough. Either they were idiots, or someone wanted her to escape. If she were a betting woman, Kitty would put her money on the latter.
Just another good reason for what she was about to do.
Within a few moments, Kitty entered the hospital wing of the prison and phased herself into the nearest wall as an orderly shuffled slowly by, pushing a cart full of medical supplies.
This would be a little trickier. There were more people here. It would be harder to avoid encountering anyone, but she could still do it. It wasn't anything she hadn't been expecting.
Thankfully, it was still very early and most of the patients were asleep. As a result, none of them really noticed the young woman walking through the walls, from one room to another, until she reached the one she wanted.
As she stepped out of the wall and into the small, single patient, room near the end of the hall, Kitty saw her, sleeping peacefully, lying in the hospital bed a few feet away.
After all she had done, all the horrible acts she'd performed, all the lives she'd destroyed, Katherine Pryde wondered how in the hell Raven Darkholme could possibly sleep so soundly, so untroubled, as if she were the most innocent soul on the face of the earth. It was obscene.
But it was just as well that she was asleep. It would make what Kitty had come to do that much easier. Mystique wouldn't even know what had happened to her, until it was far too late. It was a much kinder fate than most of the assassins victims had been granted.
Walking as quietly as possible, Kitty went to the bank of cabinets built into one wall of the room. It only took her a second to find what she was looking for.
The box of syringes was right there, within easy reach, as Kitty had known it would be. Hospitals didn't tend to lock up things like syringes, gloves, swabs, and other much-used items. It was just too inconvenient. And, really, what harm could someone do with an empty syringe?
Pulling the vial from her jacket pocket, Kitty removed the syringe from it's sterile wrapping, pulled the protective cap from the needle and drew the sample of the Legacy cure, watching as the viscous liquid ran slowly through the slim needle, filling the 5 cc plastic syringe.
As she approached the bed, Kitty allowed herself a small, humorless, smile. They'd made it so very easy for her. She wouldn't even have to inject the shape shifter directly.
Mystique was still attached to an IV drip, complete with it's own little attachment that allowed for syringe injections directly into the IV line. How very accommodating of them. How very nice and convenient. It was almost as if fate was giving it's approval for what she was about to do.
Raven, she noticed, looked much better than the last time she'd seen her. She was off the ventilator and all those minor cuts and bruises seemed to have healed very nicely. But, then, the mutant terrorist always had managed to come out of nearly everything virtually unscathed.
Too bad the same couldn't be said for her victims.
As she lifted her hand, holding the syringe securely between her index and middle finger, thumb on the plunger, Kitty prepared to inject it into the IV feed. In just a few moments, it would all be over. Justice would, at last, be served.
But, as her hand neared it's target, as it was only millimeters from it's goal, a strange thing happened. Kitty trembled, hesitated, still looking down at the still, peaceful form, her blue skin and red hair standing out in bright contrast to the stark, white sheets.
Suddenly, all the doubts she'd had, the one's she'd so carefully locked away, ignored, pretended didn't exist, came crashing back to the fore. Kitty had been determined to remain numb, emotionless, but, when faced with actually doing what she'd planned, she found that she wasn't sure she could.
Gritting her teeth in determination, she tried to force her hand to move, her fingers to slide the needle into the rubber cap over the IV's access tube, but it wouldn't budge. Her own body was rebelling against her, her mind racing, thoughts jumbled, tangled, confused.
Was she doing the right thing? Was Mystique truly evil? Or was she simply misguided, a little unbalanced, driven near madness by the cryptic information in Irene Adler's diaries? And, even if she was just plain evil, did she, Kitty, have the right to pass final judgment on this woman, regardless of what she'd done, the crimes she'd committed?
This was Kurt's mother, Rogue's foster mother. Though, how Mystique could have ever given birth to someone as kind, as sweet, as good, as Kurt Wagner, or raised someone as, down to earth, loyal, and basically loving as Rogue, Kitty would never know.
What would her death do to them? Would they grieve for her? Or would they be glad she was gone? More than once, the woman lying in this bed had tried to kill both Rogue and Kurt, not to mention the rest of the X-Men, and God alone knew how many innocent bystanders.
Kitty's face hardened at the thought, her resolve returning. Raven Darkholme deserved to die. Once and for all, the woman should be held accountable for her crimes and have to pay the consequences. It was right. It was fitting. It was justice.
Wasn't it?
What she was about to do went against everything Kitty had been taught as an X-Man, everything that she'd once believed in. Everything she still believed in, if she'd admit the truth. It went against everything she was to kill without provocation. In cold blood.
Up until this moment, she'd blocked everything else from her mind, save the task at hand, but those blocks were crumbling now that she stood at the threshold, so very near crossing the final line. But would she be able to take that final step? And, if she did, what did that say about Katherine Pryde, about Shadowcat?
She'd killed before, in self defense, to save her own life or the life of a friend, a team mate. But she'd never killed someone in cold blood. And, despite her earlier resolve, she wasn't sure she'd be able to do it now.
Yes, this woman was a criminal, a terrorist, a mass murderer. A prime example of the type of mutant that had caused the current public hysteria and panicked fear of all mutants. People like Raven were the reason Kitty couldn't have the normal life she wanted. Mutants like Mystique were why the X-Men ever had to be brought into existence in the first place.
But, still, did she deserve to die for that? Especially by Kitty's hand? Even in order to cure this horrible disease? She'd thought the answer was yes, but now, she honestly didn't know anymore. Kitty had been so sure, so positive, that this was right. But was it? Really?
And, in the end, the only answer she could come up with was no.
There was another way, Kitty thought as she looked down at herself. Just one little injection, in the arm, the leg, where ever. It wouldn't really matter. Then, she could just let go, let her molecules separate, spread out. Let the cure do it's work. It would all be over in a moment.
No more pain. No more fighting. She wouldn't have to worry about the Soulsword, about her friends, about Peter. About her soul being damned for all eternity.
If she killed Mystique, then Kitty was no better than the woman she was trying to stop. But Legacy had to be stopped. Peter had been right about one thing. One life was nothing in the face of thousands upon thousands who were dying horribly, one by one. It couldn't be allowed to continue.
She couldn't kill Mystique. Not like this. If she did, then the Soulsword would win and she would surely damn herself. As it was now, Kitty was still Kitty. Her soul, her mind, was her own. That might not hold true later.
There really was only one answer. There had only ever been one answer. She just hadn't wanted to see it, didn't want to admit it.
Like the little girl she used to be, she'd wanted to believe in the fairy tale, that there would be a happy ending when it was all over. But the woman she was now knew better.
Closing her eyes, making her decision, Kitty raised her face and sent up a silent, heartfelt, prayer. Normally, it would be recited by relatives, friends, mourners, but she didn't think God would mind, just this once, since there was no one to do it for her.
Unaware that she was speaking aloud, Kitty whispered the words quietly, her lips moving automatically, even as she translated everything into English in her head.
"Yisgadal v'yiskadash sh'mei rabbaw...." May His great Name grow exhalted and sanctified....
"...b'allmaw dee v'raw chir'usei." ...in the world that He created as He willed.
"V'yamlich malchusei,b'chayeichon, uv'yomeichon,..." May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days...
"Uv'chayei d'chol beis yisroel,..." ...and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel,....
"...ba'agawlaw u'vizman kawriv." ...swiftly and soon.
"Y'hei sh'mei rabbaw m'vawrach l'allam u'l'allmei allmayaw." May His great Name be blessed forever and ever.
"Yis'bawrach, v'yishtabach, v'yispaw'ar, v'yisromam, v'yis'nasei,..." Blessed, praised, glorified, exaulted, extolled,...
"...v'yis'hadar, v'yis,aleh, v'yis'halawl sh'mei d'kudshaw b'rich hu..." ...mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, Blessed is He...
"...l'aylaw min kol birchawsaw v'shirawsaw,..." ...beyond any blessing and song,...
"...t'ush'bchawsaw v'nechemawsaw, da'ami'rawn b'all'maw." ...praise and consolation that are uttered in the world.
"Y'hei shlawmaw rabbaw min sh'mayaw, v'chayim..." May there be abundant peace from Heaven, and life...
"...awleinu v'al kol yisroel." ...upon us and upon all Israel.
"Oseh shawlom bim'ro'mawv, hu ya'aseh shawlom,..." He Who makes peace in His heights, may He make peace,...
"...awleinu v'al kol yisroel. Amein." ...upon us and upon all Israel. Amen.
"I didn't realize you were Jewish."
At the almost mocking words, spoken in a low, rough voice, Kitty's eyes snapped open and she whirled toward the bed, finding a set of glowing, yellow, pupil-less eyes looking back at her unabashedly.
"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Mystique." Kitty stared back impassively, trying not to let her surprise show. So what if the woman was awake? It didn't change anything. Except maybe for the fact that Raven could tell them what happened to her. She supposed her friends deserved at least that.
"I'm sure." the shape shifter replied flatly, her eyes unblinking as she studied Kitty, taking in the syringe the younger woman was holding in her hand. "If you're saying Kaddish for me, don't bother. Just do what you came here for. I don't think God's going to really be much of a factor in my afterlife." Sitting up a little, she nodded toward the Legacy cure. "That what you were going to use?"
"That was the plan." Hostility crackled between the two women, so thick it was almost palpable. "But, no, I wasn't saying Kaddish for you."
"Oh? Who then? I don't see anyone else in here." When Kitty didn't answer, just stared back defiantly, Mystique's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "For yourself? Well, well. That's a kicker. Would you like me to say it for you? I don't think you're really supposed to do it for yourself."
The young ninja's only visible reaction was the sudden fire that leapt into her eyes at Raven's disdainful, mocking words. She refused to give the other woman the satisfaction of losing her temper. "Don't do me any favors, Raven."
"What is that, anyway?" Her attention dropped once more to the syringe of bright pink liquid as Kitty automatically followed the other woman's gaze.
"Cure for Legacy."
Raven simply nodded, unsurprised. "I figured as much. Didn't think it would take McCoy and Xavier long to figure it out. It's a bitch, though, ain't it?"
Dear God, the woman was actually smiling. Kitty could only shake her head in appalled wonder. She'd known Raven Darkholme was a psychotic sociopath, but apparently she was also a raving lunatic. In the scariest, most dangerous, sense of the word.
"If you mean that somebody has to die for it to work, then yeah, it is."
"And, I'm guessing your plan was for me to be that somebody?" When Kitty nodded, Raven shook her head, almost looking disappointed. "What changed your mind, girl? You could have done it and been out of here before anybody was the wiser. I'd have been dead the first time I tried to shift and wouldn't even have known what hit me."
"Because," Kitty began, her face hardening as she the older woman coldly. "if I'd done that, I wouldn't be any better than you. And I'd rather die than become what you are."
For long, seemingly endless, moments, Mystique just stared at the young woman before her, seeming to consider her words. Then, surprisingly, her expression seemed to soften slightly and she held out her hand toward Kitty.
"Hand it over, Shadowcat." When Kitty's hand only tightened it's grip on the syringe, Mystiques sighed in exasperation. "Look, Kitty. I'm not going to attack you with it, if that's what you're thinking. If I wanted you dead, I'd just let you go ahead and do what you planned. I could have just pretended to be asleep."
"What do you want it for, then?" Kitty asked suspiciously, watching the other woman carefully. "And why would you give a damn whether I use this on myself or not?"
Instead of answering Kitty's questions, Mystique threw out one of her own. One that the younger woman certainly hadn't been expecting. One that had her staring at Mystique in confusion.
"How's Rogue? And...Kurt?"
The sudden hesitancy, the hint of pain and regret in Raven's voice had Kitty blinking at her. Taken aback by the unexpected questions, and the raw emotions behind them, she was unable to speak for a moment, surprised by the sudden shift in the woman's attitude.
"They're...." Kitty swallowed and tried again. "They're ok. Fine."
Mystique nodded, exhaling heavily, still looking at Kitty with those burning, yellow eyes, so much like Kurt's. "Rogue recovered ok? No permanent damage?"
Kitty didn't have to ask what she meant. They both knew exactly what she was talking about. Pretending would just be silly. "Yeah. She was mostly healed by the time she got back to Westchester. There's not even a scar now."
"Good." The shape shifter again held out her hand, pinning Kitty with a stern look, reminding the younger mutant of how her mother used to look at her when she was trying her patience. "Now, come on. Give me the syringe. You've got more important things waiting for you. You can't waste your life on this damn cure."
Still suspicious of the mutant terrorist, Kitty hesitated, trying to read the motive Mystique was trying to keep hidden behind those glowing eyes. "Like I said, why do you care what I do? And I'm sure as hell not going to trust you with this." She waved the syringe in the air like a battle flag. "God only knows what you'd do with it. I won't be responsible for you hurting anyone else."
"No. I know you won't." Mystique replied softly. "And, really, it doesn't matter to me what you do. I couldn't care less." Leaning forward in the bed, Raven Darkholme pinned Kitty Pryde with a dark, serious look. "But Irene cared what happened to you. You were important to her, though I can't imagine why. And that does matter to me. I don't know what's ahead for you, girl, but I know it's something important. So, give me the damned syringe, get the hell out of here, and leave me to what little chance at redemption I might have left."
Her teeth worrying her bottom lip, Kitty stared at Raven a moment longer, indecision warring in her eyes, across her face, before slowly stretching out her hand, dropping the syringe into Mystiques open palm. The two women exchanged a look that spoke louder than any words on earth ever could and, for one, brief second, Kitty's pale hand curled tightly around Raven's dark blue one. To her surprise, Mystique gently returned the gesture.
Without another word to one another, the moment ended and Kitty turned to go, intending to phase out the back wall. Just as she was about to step through, Raven called out to her one last time.
"Hey, Pryde..."
Kitty stopped, turned back, and found Mystiques looking at her, the older woman's expression somewhere between a smirk and the saddest smile Kitty had ever seen.
"If you feel like saying Kaddish for me, I won't object." She shrugged lightly. "Can't hurt. And, who knows, it might just help a little."
Closing her eyes briefly, Kitty nodded, then turned and walked out through the wall without looking back.
Raven waited until Shadowcat was well gone, giving her plenty of time to get out of the complex. When she was sure enough time had passed, she leaned over and injected the Legacy cure into her IV, watching the almost fluorescent pink liquid make it's way through the little plastic tube and into her veins. When it was done, she lay back, her face serene as she felt the first tingle that signaled the serum entering her body.
She let it build up, almost able to feel the interaction of the chemicals with her mutant DNA. As soon as she felt sufficient time had lapsed for the serum to take hold, Mystique smiled, willing her form shift, releasing the Legacy cure into the atmosphere.
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Back in the grocery store parking lot, Kitty sat on her little red Sportster, silently, sincerely, reciting the Jewish prayer of mourning, the Kaddish.
If anyone had taken a close look at the young woman, they would have noticed the tears streaming, unchecked, down her face. Today, Katherine Pryde had learned a hard, bitter, yet somehow comforting, lesson in atonement, the indomitable human spirit, and the souls undeniable need for redemption.
Now, she intoned the prayer, meaning every word, as she never had before and possibly never would again. And the young mutant shed tears of sorrow, and of joy, for a woman that, until today, Kitty would never have believed worthy of them.
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On the front lawn of the Xavier mansion, oblivious to the chaos that reigned within the large house, sparkling bubbles of light appeared, dancing in the air as they changed colors, from blue to green to red and back again, shimmering jewels sparkling in the early morning light before slowly fading away.
It was a lovely sight and quite at odds with everything else that was happening in the mutant world that clear, cool morning. Especially considering the emotional storm raging within the venerable estate.
The bubbles multiplied, other colors adding to the mix, as a wide circle of light appeared for a moment. Slowly, a figure emerged from the circle, cloaked in a long robe and hood, features completely hidden, which was just as well.
Had anyone been able to see the expression on the face within, it would have sent them diving for the nearest cover. The occupants of Professor Charles Xavier's "School" were not the only ones who'd had an abysmal night and morning.
For a moment, the figure stood, hands on hips, feet spread apart, studying the huge house that dominated the landscape.
This was not going to be pleasant. God alone knew what kind of reaction to expect from these people once they heard this news. In truth, the visitor wasn't sure exactly how to react either. It was all quite a mess and would probably only get worse before it got better.
With any luck, maybe they won't shoot the messenger. But, it's not like I've got a lot of choices here.
Heaving a weary sigh and wondering what else could possibly go wrong today, the figure resolutely strode toward the huge house.
Regardless of the X-Men's reaction, someone within had some serious explaining to do.
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A/N: Ok, before we get to the reviewers, let me just say that this is not how this chapter was originally supposed to go. I hate Mystique. I hate her with a burning passion that will not die. In my outline, it states very clearly that Kitty goes into that hospital and injects Raven Darkholme with the Legacy cure, killing her dead, dead, dead. It was supposed to be a vengeance thing. Kitty was not supposed to feel sorry for her and she was not supposed to have doubts about what she was doing. Except, when I was trying to write it out like that, Kitty absolutely refused to do it. No matter what I tried, it would not work. And I realized that I was trying to get her to do something that would have been out of character for her, unless she were totally insane. And I don't think she's quite that far gone yet. So, instead of having the pleasure of killing Mystique, the damn woman gets to be a martyr and ends up being a more sympathetic character. Go figure. I still hate her, though.
Now, On to my wonderful reviewers: Guys, there's just no way for me to tell you how much I appreciate your encouragement and enthusiasm for this fic. You make me want to write faster.
T.A. Pixiestix: Yes, they made up. Sorta. Kitty's still obsessing, though, about the whole Soulsword thing, as you've already seen. As for the cliffhanger, well, you might have to wait another chapter or so before we really begin to really find out what's going on with the Phoenix and the book, and the two people connected to them. But, on the bright side, we're done with the Legacy cure, now. I'm thrilled that you're enjoying the story and I hope your friend is too. I'm writing like a madwoman here, so, hopefully, updates will be pretty frequent.
Caliente: Trust me, we are all confuzzled by some of this time traveling crap our favorite mutants seem to always be falling into. But that particular episode ties into this story in several ways, some of which will be revealed later. As for Kitty's virginity, well, that's a matter for debate. Warren Ellis pretty much had her giving it up to Pete Wisdom. But Chris Claremont, who despises Warren Ellis, says that she's still a virgin. Soooo, take your pick, I guess. For the purposes of this story, I required her to still be a virgin. As for the other confusing issues, well, they may actually get more confusing, but things should start falling into place shortly and in pretty quick succession once we get going. Now, I know it wasn't as much as you wanted, but you did catch Amanda in this chapter, didn't you? Definitely much more Amanda, and Kurt, and Logan next chapter.
Kirayoshi: I'm so glad you liked chapter 11. It was actually one of the tougher ones for me to write because I wanted it to be just right. Personally, I think it's way past time that Marvel let some of it's younger characters grow up just a little. I mean, please. Kitty can't be thirteen forever. Now, don't think that Kitty's going to have to fight her demons all by herself. Before it's over, she'll have all kinds of help, some of it from the people you'd normally expect, but there'll be some help really coming out of left field. I have a particular fondness for one obscure character who'll show up a few chapters from now. And, don't worry, I'm a sap too. Originally, Kitty and Peter were not supposed to make up before she took off, but they really, really wanted to and I couldn't stop them. It's really pathetic when you're being bossed around by fictional characters. BTW, Mad-Hamlets stories are really great and I don't mind Buffy/Willow pairings. Like you said, anything is better than Buffy having undying love for Spike.
Lia Fail: Yaaay! I get a No Prize!! I hate it when writers leave all kinds of loose ends lying around with no explanation. It drives me nuts. As does the "Lets make all the characters between 13 and 16 for the rest of their lives" thing. Yes, I think you're right. At one point, I think they had Kitty younger than Jubes, which is just so very wrong. And wouldn't that make her relationship with Pete Wisdom a little on the sick side? It drives me nuts and I also think it insults the readers intelligence. Do they really expect us to believe that the X-Men have had all these adventures in two or three years?? When would they have time to eat or sleep?? They would have all died of exhaustion by now. Or committed suicide. God knows, I would have. As for Phoenix, that was definitely it. And who knows what that lovely cosmic entity may have up it's wing. And the mystery of Destiny's diaries shall also be revealed in time. I wasn't crazy about how they just suddenly dropped that story line in XXM either. That was the teams whole purpose and then they just decide they don't need to look anymore. It was kinda lame. As for how I write so fast....Well, what else am I gonna do? Watch soap operas all day? Ewwwww! Actually, this fic has gone faster than anything else I've ever done. I hope that keeps up.
*B(): Glad you enjoyed Kitty and Peter's little interlude. I enjoyed writing it, even though I obsessed over it. A lot. I'm glad it wasn't too sappy, though I couldn't help just a little bit. But, I do not feel it is necessary to describe every single detail of the characters anatomy and where it goes for the readers to be able to figure out what's going on and I'm really glad you thought that worked out well. I wanted to leave our favorite couple with a little dignity in this whole mess. And, yes, the Soulsword is definitely working toward something. It's a sneaky little rascal.
Araya-Michiru: Wow, you read it twice! I'm so happy!! I'm glad you like the website. It's really great for background on a lot of the more popular characters and I'm really impressed that the fans that run it can keep up with all that back history. It's a great research tool. And I have to agree about the second X-Men movie. What more could you want than a gorgeous, barely dressed guy that can turn to metal and throw people through walls? I was just disappointed that he didn't get more screen time. It did take me a while, though, to accept the movie's idea that Rogue hooked up with Wolvie like that. In the comics, when she joined the X-Men, he was pretty set on just killing her. The whole team hated Rogue and threatened to quit if Professor Xavier took her in. I still think the first X-Men movie should have been the story of how Kitty joined the team. You would still have had Storm, Colossus, Cyclops, Phoenix, Wolverine, and Nghtcrawler, plus a really great fight with Emma Frost and the Hellfire club. Oh well, guess you can't have everything.
Evanescence kicks ass: When the ideas are flowing good, I write like a fiend. It's like I can't type fast enough. With this story, so far so good. I haven't hit any really icky snags and things seem to be going very smoothly. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it keeps up. I hope you enjoyed the way the Legacy cure played out. As I said in my note, it wasn't exactly the way I had it planned, but I felt like it worked for the characters and the story. The Soulsword is intriguing, to say the least and there's gonna be some hairy moments before it all comes together. We didn't quite make it to Genosha this chapter but, with any luck at all, we'll make it there in chapter 13. Fair warning, though, it's not gonna be a happy trip and what happens there may just be the thing that drives Kitty completely over the edge.
Coming Soon: Or, at least I really hope it is. Chapter 13. Hopefully, I'll get all these darn mutants out of the mansion this time. Finally! There won't be many X-Men left in Westchester and they're gonna be spreading out all over the place before this thing drags them, and a few surprise guests, all back together again. With any luck, we'll be moving on to Genosha next and the Sentinel Holocost. And we'll find out a little more about that cloaked figure about to knock on the X-Men's door.