A/N ~ I really truly wanted to call this chapter 'Return of the King'. It just fitted, especially with the timing, but the cliché factor eventually beat me back. With a stick. That had a nail in the end.
Thanks to all for the birthday wishes. I had a great one – my mother indulged my childish side and set up a family gathering (we're a small, insular bunch – not a cousin to my name) with a Disney theme. Tres cool. Ben and Jerry's Phish Food plus a bunch of gift-wrapped Essential X-Men comics in front of the fire. Mmmm, life just doesn't get any better than that.
Silvervine; Nope, Daddy ain't happy at all. Not one little bit.
Ice Princess; Christmas – a real point of contention for anyone I talk to. What's the big problem with it? Yeesh. I won't bore people with my views on the matter, but even so, I'm frustrated with the world in general on that topic. A propos Bonfire Night, I didn't have a Guy myself. My back garden borders on a bird sanctuary, so fireworks in general are a bit of a no-no. Sparklers are fun to play with, though.
Ambrosia; Unteen. I like that word. Yes, I am an unteen. As for doing childish things to feel young again, my mentality never really grew into my teens in the first place, so I doubt that'll be a problem. Gaga… snerkle.
Amarth Obstreperous; Robyn has been out of it for a while, hasn't she? Ah well, all sorted now.
The Phantom; Spectacular spectacular, and words in the vernacular… hee hee. Rogue shall be explained in due course. We're not quite finished with her and her complexities, yet, and there's a skeleton or two that has to come out of the closet before the end.
Draganess; Actually, Rogue and Pietro are less a romantic couple, more a set of consolation siblings – hence the Wanda factor, and the rechristening as 'Ro-Ro'. And don't worry about the fan-girl issue. It happens to the best of us. *Picks up Acme Net* Shhh, be vewy vewy quiet. I'm hunting elves.
Gerri; 'Hmm... okay, from that little exchange between Rogue and Pietro, I'm guessing that what you're trying to say is that at some point in that research centre, Rogue touched Wanda, is that right?' Maybe. Maybe not. Like I told Phantom, there are things about Rogue that have not yet been broached. Important, pivotal things. And that's all I'm going to tell you.
UnknownSource; Eep! We only just met Layla, and already you've got her lined up for the chopping block. Oh well, c'est la vie, I suppose.
Yma; 'How much effort did you put into this again?' Um, quite a bit. 'When will you be posting the next bit?' Now-ish. Ooh, look at that. There's some below these notes. Well, whaddya know?
Ricter; Thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it. But as I told Draganess, this isn't a Rietro. Rogue and Pietro are supposed to be kind of consolation siblings rather than an actual romantic couple. Wanda is an up-in-the-air character. Watch this space. Hopefully, the angst should level off a bit, soon.
Doublekidz; I'm on an Author Alert list! Woo-hoo!
*******************
Thirty-second Fragment ~ Onset
*******************
No.
Just no.
Nonononononononononnononononononononono...
"*NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!*"
Magneto's howl, a scream of agony, despair, rage, and grief, shook the very air. He fell over, unable to keep his feet, staring at the corpse; his little girl, his baby.
And he cried.
He had just found her, just learned that they could be reunited, only to have lost her in the same heartbeat. Lost his little girl *again*!
His fault. All his fault. He had abandoned her so long ago. Why would she be waiting for him now? He should *never* have... never have...
The pain made it too hard to think.
Calm down. Think... think... think of how to make things better, make things right.
How could he have lost her so soon?
All his fault, all his fault...
But he hadn't landed the final blow, had he?
No.
Who had done this?
Pietro was there, he had detected his presence on Cerebro II, and Wanda had written his name. They had met. They would be together.
Then why had no-one found his body also?
Had he escaped?
No, Pietro would never leave his sister, never abandon her. Such a thing would have been tantamount to murder. His son was a slacker, and could be a nuisance, but he wasn't a killer.
Unless
Unless... unless...
Betrayal, the poisoned knife that bit into the heart.
Pietro had betrayed Wanda.
Brother had betrayed sister.
Son had betrayed daughter.
His children.
Et Tu Pietro?[1]
What next? Revenge? Eye for eye, tooth for tooth?
Son or no son, Pietro must pay for this... this outrage.
Only right. Only justice.
Yes. Find him, learn where he had gone. Then go after him, and all those that had aided him, all those that defended him. There were others here, all the evidence pointed to it. They must have helped him. Must have... helped...
Helped him kill his sister. Drown her, and leave her corpse her for the crows to peck at.
Kill them all, then. Then time to grieve. Then come back here and bury bodies.
"S...sir?"
He heard Spider-Man's voice behind him. His wails of grief must have startled the boy and the two girls.
When he rose and faced them, his expression was a strange, cold mask of fury. His rage amplified his power. Crackles of electromagnetic energy sparking around him, and he seemed to glow.
"We have to leave," he said softly. "Contact Hank. Tell him to use Cerebro II to ascertain Quicksilver's current position."
"Th... then what?" asked Peter, though it was clear that in his heart he knew what the Master of Magnetism would say. Erik knew it was patent in his own mad eyes.
Grief could do things to a person's judgment, make them consider and do things they wouldn't usually even entertain in the right frame of mind.
"Then the father must kill the son to avenge the daughter."
*******************
Rogue was rocking Pietro's head back and forth in the cradle of her shoulder when Kurt found her. Pietro was sobbing quietly and brokenly, and Rogue was shushing him, sounding like she was sobbing herself.
Kurt approached them with trepidation. "Rogue?" he ventured in a whisper, reaching uncertainly for her and eliciting no response. He shook her shoulder, the one not being used as a pillow.
"What?" she croaked, thick with tears.
"We need to move, Rogue," Kurt said, the urgency in his voice failing him the longer he saw the two of them clutching each other, anchoring each other to the ground. "Grasshopper's looking for us."
"Don't care," she snuffled, sullying, Kurt noted wryly, Pietro's otherwise meticulously maintained hair a little more. Still, her tears were making the last vestiges of blood not quite so red...
"You have to," he urged, pulling experimentally on the shoulder he'd kept his hand on.
Rogue didn't say anything, just sighed and slowly shifted her face against Pietro's head. They were both calming now, and edging towards an easy silence.
"Rogue," Kurt repeated, more urgently.
She remained silent.
Kurt rocked back on his heels and watched the two of them subside into each other, their breathing impossible to distinguish. "If we're not where we're supposed to be," he said carefully, "There'll be trouble."
"Let there be trouble," Rogue said carelessly, exhaling the words in a single exhausted breath. Pietro mumbled something to her, and she just smoothed a hand over his scalp.
Kurt rallied his patience for one last sally forth. "I can't let there be trouble," he explained, maintaining a reasonable facade. "Trouble means we don't get out of Mutie Town."
"Oh," she said with disinterest.
Somebody clattered noisily, and with a distinct lack of coordination, outside the door of the Temple. Kurt winced and tried to look inconspicuous. Rogue and Pietro, fortuitously, already looked like a pile of dirty rags.
"Come *on *, Rogue," he hissed, checking warily over his shoulder.
"Don't wanna," she muttered.
"If," Kurt snapped, "we are not back in the building we should be when Grasshopper comes to check on us, then he'll come looking for us. He has our sister, Rogue. Have you seen him? Do you trust him with Robyn?"
"... No," she said reluctantly.
"Come on, then," he said, appeasing, reaching out his hand.
Pietro looked up at her then in mute appeal. She hesitated, looking down at him, and faltered.
Kurt heard another drunkard outside, and grabbed Rogue's hand before it could fall back down.
Pietro found himself holding on to nothing but a noisome stench and the afterimages of a yellow glare of light. He began to weep again.
*******************
Rogue had jerked angrily out of Kurt's grasp as soon as they had appeared in the house in which they had been sequestered. She stalked over to the unwashed mattress and lay down, wriggling her shoulders until she was comfortable and then pointedly facing away from him. Kurt, too tired to really protest his innocence, sighed and jumped up on to the table, taking up his habitual crouch.
The leg of the table creaked threateningly, and he moved over to the uncomfortable chair with reluctance. _Even the furniture is against me,_ he thought with black humour.
Bairn, fortunately, had not returned to her post.
Kurt had nothing to do. Sleep was precluded by Rogue's sullen occupation of the sole mattress, and there was nothing of any interest in the room. There wasn't even any grafitti, a sure sign, he thought, of final despair. Or possibly illiteracy. He couldn't be sure. In any case, the end result was the same: boredom.
It was incredible, Kurt reflected, that after all they had been through since Bayville, after all the blood and tears, that the thing that most grated against him now was the lack of activity. He'd been looking forward to doing nothing for weeks, and now he had the chance to - well, it was absolutely stultifying.
He composed dirty limericks in German and English, then immediately forgot them. He put all the Beatles albums in order, chronologically, alphabetically, by length, by how much he enjoyed them and so on until he started to seriously consider eating his own face off for a change of pace. Before he could resort to such drastic action, luckily, Grasshopper arrived.
"Kurt, yes?" he said briefly, walking into the room unannounced. Kurt had been rocking back and forth on the chair, and was taken by surprise.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes. I'm Kurt."
"Good, good. You're the one leading this little band of yours?"
Two short men with crumpled faces edged around either of Grasshopper's shoulders and stood guard impatiently.
"Well, I wouldn't quite say leading," Kurt began, eyeing the muscle warily. "We don't really follow any one per - "
"Don't fuck me around, boy. I don't have the time."
"Um. Yes."
"Lovely. I need to talk to you."
"What about Rogue?"
"Bubbles and Redeye will look after her, don't worry."
Rogue had fallen asleep, and was unable to contest the award of her stewardship. Bubbles, whose skin was a deathly grey, had a grin of hot, wet needles. Redeye[2], slightly the taller, looked impassive. Livid red skin slashed viciously down across both his white eyes in the shape of a tattered banner.
"Don't worry," Grasshopper assured Kurt in a bored tone, seeing his discomfort. "They're more than capable. Come along."
Kurt obliged grudgingly, hopping off the chair and slouching over to the door. Grasshopper stood aside in a parody of etiquette, and closed the door behind them as they left the building. They walked out into the more or less abandoned streets of Mutie Town, picking their way through broken asphalt and the empty shells of cars, headed nowhere in particular. An uneasy silence passed between the two.
"Do you know," asked Grasshopper suddenly, once they had reached the end of the second block they were walking down, "how Mutie Town is governed? We have a council, of which I am nominally in charge. In reality, I'm only there to make sure that what they decree gets done. To cut to the chase, Kurt, your life is in their hands. Or rather, it was. They've decided not to let you leave Mutie Town for the time being, I'm afraid."
Kurt was taken aback by the Grasshopper's abrupt mode of speech, and his tail twitched unconsciously with the artificial cadence of it. "Until when?" he asked, once he had run through what he had just learned.
"Until they see fit to change their minds. The council are rather an inflexible bunch, so there isn't really much chance of getting them to change aforesaid minds, though I am due for a meeting with them at some point."
"You can't be serious," Kurt said quietly, appalled.
Grasshopper snorted. "I'm always serious. It's one of the perks of this job."
"We have to get to the west coast," Kurt protested weakly.
"You don't anymore," Grasshopper shrugged. "You can live just fine here."
"Why won't you let us go?"
"Not me, them. And I don't know. Like I say, I'm just here to do what the council tells me."
"But we've got Pietro," Kurt argued, "Magneto's son. Don't you worship him or something?"
Grasshopper snorted again. "Magneto, yes, a lot of people do. Same for Pietro. But seriously, Kurt, you can't use him in your favour. He's a blubbering idiot. You saw him this afternoon."
"Uh... what?"
Grasshopper took Kurt's discomfiture in stride. "I know you and that girl - Rogue? Kitty?"
"Rogue."
"Rogue, right. I know she went to visit him at the Temple after you went to find your sister. Or daughter, or whatever you call her. Rather touching, I thought, being reunited with the little furball like that. The same with her and Pietro. I know that you went to fetch her afterwards, so I know that you've seen the state he's in. He's a suicidal mess. Anything that he says, anything he asks of the council could be immediately discredited."
Kurt stumbled for words.
Grasshopper smirked, and said, "A little Sneaoops told me."
"Bastard," Kurt snarled suddenly, rounding sharply on Grasshopper. "You can't hold us here, and you had no right to spy on us like that!" He threw a wild punch, which glanced off Grasshopper's carapace.
Grasshopper didn't seem to notice the blow at all, but simply buried one fist heavily into Kurt's gut. Kurt collapsed with astonishing rapidity, black bleeding into the corners of his vision. Grasshopper nonchalantly took a seat on a large chunk of upturned concrete beside him, and waited for him to regain his breath.
"Bastard," Kurt choked out again, when he could spare the breath for speech. Grasshopper looked down on him with something bordering on contempt, then looked away.
Suddenly, bitterly, he said "Do you know what I used to do before the virus, Kurt? I used to teach children to play the piano."
"You?" Kurt asked through gritted teeth, beginning to regain his breath.
"You wouldn't have thought it, would you?" agreed Grasshopper, raising all four hands to make his point. "But Des Moines was fairly open-minded about such things. So long as I didn't draw much attention to myself, I was all right. The extra fingers were a useful bonus, of course."
"Of course," Kurt said, pulling himself to his feet heavily. As soon as he got back to those feet, however, still gasping, he sat back down on the ground beside Grasshopper's lump of concrete, feeling foolish.
"What about you?"
"I was a foreign exchange student in New York State. A little town called Bayville. You may have heard of it."
Grasshopper looked down at him with narrowed eyes. "I guess that makes you the Bayville Demon, then."
"Lucky me."
"Lucky you," he agreed. "Don't let it become common knowledge, though. The Bayville Demon isn't too popular in these parts."
"Great. Another thing to look out for."
They sat in silence for another few minutes. "So what does life in Mutie Town entail?" Kurt asked.
"For you? Nothing. Find a job if you want something to do. Otherwise, find food and clothes. You can take any house you want that no-one's living in, but most of the desirable ones are taken already. Just like being unemployed, basically, but without social security."
"And how does that stop us leaving town?"
"Teeps. The council's full of the bastards. Bastards," Grasshopper concluded succinctly.
"Not all of them," Kurt protested, thinking of Jean Grey and the Professor.
"All the ones I know, anyway."
"Is there some way to appeal to the council?"
"Yeah. Through me. It isn't going to work, let me assure you."
"There's no way of getting out?"
"Short of starting some kind of bloody insurrection, probably not. And you don't look like the type to inspire an insurrection, I'm afraid."
Kurt grinned sharply. "I started a civil war just by going out in public. Don't be too sure."
"I think I'm fairly confident that you won't manage it," said Grasshopper. "Anyway, time to take you back to your humble abode. You're in it for the night, then we take you to meet the rest of your little gang and toss you out in the streets in the morning. Personally, I'm rather looking forward to it."
"I love you, too."
Grasshopper just laughed hollowly, and then helped Kurt to his feet. "Come on. This is the way back."
*******************
"Have fun, all," Bubbles drawled, as they were escorted out of the warehouse that stood in for Mutie Town's prison. For some inexplicable reason, it was where Grasshopper had chosen for them all to meet up after a night spent in separate houses, and made for a strange, cold reception with its bars and individual cages.
Bubbles drew to a halt, hustling the hastily regrouped party out onto the street. "Your bus is impounded somewhere. It got towed last night. Where, I dunno, but it's prob'ly been scavenged by now anyways. Have a look if you want," he said carelessly, then closed and locked the door.
Kurt and his makeshift band of survivors and misfits stood in the dusty street, completely directionless and staring at the closed aperture.
Raven was the first to talk. "I guess we should look for the bus, then," she suggested.
Kurt nodded curtly [3] and stalked off down the street. The rest started to straggle after him.
Kitty, with Hope, and Rogue took up the rear of the parade. Rogue rested her hand gently on Kitty's elbow to guide her. Neither of them said anything.
The three children played and chattered around Raven and Alvin, who were discussing their situation in hushed and sombre tones. Logan was walking with a swift, business-like stride and rapidly pulling abreast of Kurt, presumably to talk to him.
Pietro had been left in the Temple. Some of them hadn't even seen him, yet. They hadn't been allowed.
"That's your considered opinion of the situation, then, is it?" Alvin was asking Raven, amused.
"Yep," she agreed. "Absolutely fubar. Pardon my language, but we are utterly, utterly screwed. Still, guess we'd better make the most of it, no? There's got to be some way of worming our way out. There always is. Believe me, I'm an expert."
Daisy tugged at Raven's sleeve. "What's fubar?"
"It's a very bad word," Alvin began, but Raven interrupted him.
"It means fucked up beyond all recognition, see? F-U-B-A-R, that's the initials."
Alvin spluttered briefly, but subsided when Raven cast a sideways glance, in both a literal and figurative sense, at him.
"I know that," Daisy said proudly. "Logan taught me to *spell*."
"Did he now?" Alvin said grimly.
"Yep," she agreed, grinning. "Logan's a good dad. Better'n my real one, anyway."
"Everyone's got to be good at something," he said caustically, before looking away, ashamed.
Daisy looked puzzled, but Raven just ruffled her hair. "Alvin's just being an old maid, Daisy. Go on and have fun, okay?"
"Okay," she giggled, and skipped away to where Alvin and Robyn were playing some form of tag; Ariel had taken to playing like a fish to water. [4]
Once they were out of earshot, Alvin looked at Raven with narrowed eyes, until she snickered at his serious face and asked him what the matter was.
"I am *not* an old maid."
Raven cracked up in laughter. "Oh, you *so* are."
"Are not," he sniffed with dignity.
"Are too."
"Are not."
"Are too..."
"Those two're gettin' pretty cosy," Rogue commented to Kitty from their position as the token stragglers.
Kitty shrugged noncommittally. "Could be," she said eventually, adjusting Hope on her arm.
"An' Logan an' Kurt are way ahead of 'em," Rogue continued, "tryin' to out-manly-man each other. Looks like it's gonna be a fine ol' lifetime in Des Moines, the mutant paradise."
Kitty sighed. "Do you really think that's the way it's going to be, Rogue? Do you think we *are* going to be here for a lifetime?"
Rogue shrugged. "Certainly looks that way. I can't see no way out."
Kitty sighed again. "Where'd we go wrong, Rogue?"
A smirk - although the effect was obviously lost on its intended audience. "Gettin' born mutants was our first mistake, I reckon. After that, the rest of it just came natural."
Kitty snorted, and her lips twisted into a thin smile. "If I'd known this was going to happen ahead of time, I'd have opted for different parents."
Rogue echoed the sentiments with a brief giggle. "Damn straight," she agreed. Her grin faded from her face. "You wouldn't have met Lance, then, probably. Or had Hope."
The sunglasses hid Kitty closing her eyes. "I guess not," she agreed quietly. "But..."
"But what?"
"You know but what. I can't help but think that maybe... maybe it would have been better if I hadn't been a mutant, even if I never met Lance."
"'Speak nought but good of the dead,'" Rogue quoted, and then immediately regretted it.
Kitty grimaced and pulled away slightly. "Well, it's a pointless discussion now. He's dead, and we're stuck here."
"Aw, here, Kitty, I didn't mean anyth -"
"I know you didn't." There was a long pause. Kurt and Logan had stopped to have an animated disagreement in the road ahead, and the rest of them were slowly catching up. "It's just," she continued suddenly, her breath jerking in her throat, "I don't know I'll ever find anyone as good as... as..." She cut herself off with a hiccoughing sob.
Rogue wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and was glad Kitty couldn't see how the sudden closeness affected her. "Hey, there," she offered. "Hush, now."
Hope started to wail as Kitty's tears dripped, one by one, onto her tiny face and shirt.
"I miss him," she said after a moment, in between wracking sobs and long sniffs. "God help me, he could be a primo jerk, and was jealous as hell, but I miss him so much... He never *did* anything to anybody. He could, but he never did. Even when people threatened us, all he did was turn around and get us out of there instead of fighting."
"Because he cared," Rogue soothed, wincing under the sudden onslaught of emotion. "He was... a good guy."
Kitty exhaled, and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. "Perhaps that's what I should have written on his marker. That Grasshopper guy said Lance could... could have a place in the old churchyard here, next to their old priestess."
Rogue held her close, and gently soothed both mother and child as they emptied their tears onto her. "Lance Alvers, good guy and father. Like it?"
Kitty nodded.
"Feel better now?"
"Not really. But... I'll get there. Slowly. Heck, I got over leaving both my parents *and* my old life in the same day, not to mention losing my sight that week. I can... I'll survive. I'll live."
"An' that's your gift, girl. That's what Lance went out doin' - protectin' life."
Kitty straightened up, though her cheeks were still wet. "Lance Alvers," she intoned after a moment, "Good guy, father, and protector of life."
Rogue nodded, and returned her hand to the younger girl's elbow. "Nice choice. Classy."
*******************
The group of mutants eventually found their bus on the outskirts of Mutie Town. It had indeed been gutted, and all of Forge's work had vanished, to be taken apart by other hands and used over, no doubt. Yet some supplies remained and, more importantly...
"Clive!"
The two girls went to their puppy and hugged it, whilst Kurt looked on wearily, remembering all the trouble that little dog had caused. He didn't go near, and snapped a quick warning to the children not to let themselves be licked, which was met by groans, but compliance. The leash tying Clive to the upstairs seats had been completely chewed through, telling how she'd escaped becoming food for the hungry scavengers.
As one, they proceeded to search their erstwhile home, taking anything useful they could find - which was precious little.
At noontime, with the light of the sun beating down upon their backs, they paused for a rest.
It was whilst they were sitting around, discussing their future plans, that Robyn noticed something.
"Kurti," she drawled, the sun on her fur making her drowsy. "Kurti, what's that?"
She pointed with a claw to the horizon and, looking carefully, Kurt made out a small dot, like a bird or a plane. It was flying through the air, and after a time he realised it was flying towards Mutie Town, and getting bigger the nearer it got.
*******************
Magneto piloted the ship with a strength and passion the others could hardly believe.
Hank had used Cerebro II to find Pietro's location, though it had taken many hours due to the excessive amounts of energy needed to power up the machine without totally draining that which powered Asteroid M. The call had come in just a little while ago, startling them all into sudden wakefulness in the noon sun as they received Hank's message.
Pietro was in a small place called Mutie Town, not a few miles from their current location.
"But boss," said Wolfsbane, "Those people are mutants... our kind..."
"And they won't be punished overly," assured Magneto, his voice odd. "Only the son must die. As long as they don't protect him they'll be spared."
Spider-Man shivered at this proclamation, but said nothing. What could he do, after all? Besides, surely a man had the right to avenge against those who had harmed his family, right?
No, no that wasn't right. This entire situation was certainly nothing to do with 'right,' and Peter knew that the dark, dull feeling of wrongness would only grow the closer they got to the cluster of ruins and shacks that was Mutie Town.
But Magneto was so much more powerful than any of them. Probably than all of them put together. How could he go against the older man's desire to kill without becoming the victim himself?
*******************
The mutants outside of what had once been Des Moines, Iowa, gasped in surprise as the strange, flat, circular craft easily stopped in mid-air. It reminded them far too much of Star Wars' Millennium Falcon, save for the two huge engines glued to its spine. These same engines glowed with heat, but no sound was forthcoming. The craft was oddly silent.
A few scattered yells brought out the rest of Mutie Town to witness this spectacle.
The craft hovered for a few moments more, then a hatch opened. A soft hum filled the air, but before anyone could move an electro-magnetic pulse wave knocked the entire populace running to the outskirts to their knees.
Magneto, herald of the coming age, slowly levitated to the ground with his three Acolytes.
A handful of figures, just outside the range of the force, drew themselves up from the ground. They staggered forward, leaving his halo of power until they were able to at least stand without it being a strain.
Magneto's mouth pressed into a thin line, not impressed with this resistance. "I have come for my son," he said in a calm voice. "Do not get in my way."
The handful did not move. One took a step forward.
{SNIKT}
"Magneto. So what if we do, bub?"
"An entire metal skeleton, and you defy me?" Magneto's cold eyes fell upon his three companions. "And you stand with him? I am not amused."
Exhibiting extreme resilience and strength, someone shouldered his way upright from the masses, staggering forward to where the force was no so great. A buzzing of concealed wings, and Grasshopper spoke. "The Council does not take well to intruders."
"We will not abandon our family so easily," spat out something blue and fuzzy, elf-like in shape.
"The Goddess' Will be done," prayed another quietly, stepping forward to join the line of four fighters, while the others clustered around a group of children.
Magneto's Acolytes moved to stand beside him, and the others lined up, facing off against them like the last line of defence in some overblown war movie in the Old World.
"A Wolverine, the Bayville Demon, an insect, and a human? These are my son's protectors?" Magneto laughed; a cold, cruel sound. He lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. At the signal, his Acolytes surged forward.
Magnus Rex had returned to claim his throne.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] Paraphrased from Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_.
[2] Bubbles and Redeye are meant to be Wildchild and Wildside, respectively. But I've always wanted to call Wildchild Bubbles.
[3] I've resisted saying this for so long, so please let me off just this once.
[4] Okay, forgive me again.
Thanks to all for the birthday wishes. I had a great one – my mother indulged my childish side and set up a family gathering (we're a small, insular bunch – not a cousin to my name) with a Disney theme. Tres cool. Ben and Jerry's Phish Food plus a bunch of gift-wrapped Essential X-Men comics in front of the fire. Mmmm, life just doesn't get any better than that.
Silvervine; Nope, Daddy ain't happy at all. Not one little bit.
Ice Princess; Christmas – a real point of contention for anyone I talk to. What's the big problem with it? Yeesh. I won't bore people with my views on the matter, but even so, I'm frustrated with the world in general on that topic. A propos Bonfire Night, I didn't have a Guy myself. My back garden borders on a bird sanctuary, so fireworks in general are a bit of a no-no. Sparklers are fun to play with, though.
Ambrosia; Unteen. I like that word. Yes, I am an unteen. As for doing childish things to feel young again, my mentality never really grew into my teens in the first place, so I doubt that'll be a problem. Gaga… snerkle.
Amarth Obstreperous; Robyn has been out of it for a while, hasn't she? Ah well, all sorted now.
The Phantom; Spectacular spectacular, and words in the vernacular… hee hee. Rogue shall be explained in due course. We're not quite finished with her and her complexities, yet, and there's a skeleton or two that has to come out of the closet before the end.
Draganess; Actually, Rogue and Pietro are less a romantic couple, more a set of consolation siblings – hence the Wanda factor, and the rechristening as 'Ro-Ro'. And don't worry about the fan-girl issue. It happens to the best of us. *Picks up Acme Net* Shhh, be vewy vewy quiet. I'm hunting elves.
Gerri; 'Hmm... okay, from that little exchange between Rogue and Pietro, I'm guessing that what you're trying to say is that at some point in that research centre, Rogue touched Wanda, is that right?' Maybe. Maybe not. Like I told Phantom, there are things about Rogue that have not yet been broached. Important, pivotal things. And that's all I'm going to tell you.
UnknownSource; Eep! We only just met Layla, and already you've got her lined up for the chopping block. Oh well, c'est la vie, I suppose.
Yma; 'How much effort did you put into this again?' Um, quite a bit. 'When will you be posting the next bit?' Now-ish. Ooh, look at that. There's some below these notes. Well, whaddya know?
Ricter; Thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it. But as I told Draganess, this isn't a Rietro. Rogue and Pietro are supposed to be kind of consolation siblings rather than an actual romantic couple. Wanda is an up-in-the-air character. Watch this space. Hopefully, the angst should level off a bit, soon.
Doublekidz; I'm on an Author Alert list! Woo-hoo!
*******************
Thirty-second Fragment ~ Onset
*******************
No.
Just no.
Nonononononononononnononononononononono...
"*NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!*"
Magneto's howl, a scream of agony, despair, rage, and grief, shook the very air. He fell over, unable to keep his feet, staring at the corpse; his little girl, his baby.
And he cried.
He had just found her, just learned that they could be reunited, only to have lost her in the same heartbeat. Lost his little girl *again*!
His fault. All his fault. He had abandoned her so long ago. Why would she be waiting for him now? He should *never* have... never have...
The pain made it too hard to think.
Calm down. Think... think... think of how to make things better, make things right.
How could he have lost her so soon?
All his fault, all his fault...
But he hadn't landed the final blow, had he?
No.
Who had done this?
Pietro was there, he had detected his presence on Cerebro II, and Wanda had written his name. They had met. They would be together.
Then why had no-one found his body also?
Had he escaped?
No, Pietro would never leave his sister, never abandon her. Such a thing would have been tantamount to murder. His son was a slacker, and could be a nuisance, but he wasn't a killer.
Unless
Unless... unless...
Betrayal, the poisoned knife that bit into the heart.
Pietro had betrayed Wanda.
Brother had betrayed sister.
Son had betrayed daughter.
His children.
Et Tu Pietro?[1]
What next? Revenge? Eye for eye, tooth for tooth?
Son or no son, Pietro must pay for this... this outrage.
Only right. Only justice.
Yes. Find him, learn where he had gone. Then go after him, and all those that had aided him, all those that defended him. There were others here, all the evidence pointed to it. They must have helped him. Must have... helped...
Helped him kill his sister. Drown her, and leave her corpse her for the crows to peck at.
Kill them all, then. Then time to grieve. Then come back here and bury bodies.
"S...sir?"
He heard Spider-Man's voice behind him. His wails of grief must have startled the boy and the two girls.
When he rose and faced them, his expression was a strange, cold mask of fury. His rage amplified his power. Crackles of electromagnetic energy sparking around him, and he seemed to glow.
"We have to leave," he said softly. "Contact Hank. Tell him to use Cerebro II to ascertain Quicksilver's current position."
"Th... then what?" asked Peter, though it was clear that in his heart he knew what the Master of Magnetism would say. Erik knew it was patent in his own mad eyes.
Grief could do things to a person's judgment, make them consider and do things they wouldn't usually even entertain in the right frame of mind.
"Then the father must kill the son to avenge the daughter."
*******************
Rogue was rocking Pietro's head back and forth in the cradle of her shoulder when Kurt found her. Pietro was sobbing quietly and brokenly, and Rogue was shushing him, sounding like she was sobbing herself.
Kurt approached them with trepidation. "Rogue?" he ventured in a whisper, reaching uncertainly for her and eliciting no response. He shook her shoulder, the one not being used as a pillow.
"What?" she croaked, thick with tears.
"We need to move, Rogue," Kurt said, the urgency in his voice failing him the longer he saw the two of them clutching each other, anchoring each other to the ground. "Grasshopper's looking for us."
"Don't care," she snuffled, sullying, Kurt noted wryly, Pietro's otherwise meticulously maintained hair a little more. Still, her tears were making the last vestiges of blood not quite so red...
"You have to," he urged, pulling experimentally on the shoulder he'd kept his hand on.
Rogue didn't say anything, just sighed and slowly shifted her face against Pietro's head. They were both calming now, and edging towards an easy silence.
"Rogue," Kurt repeated, more urgently.
She remained silent.
Kurt rocked back on his heels and watched the two of them subside into each other, their breathing impossible to distinguish. "If we're not where we're supposed to be," he said carefully, "There'll be trouble."
"Let there be trouble," Rogue said carelessly, exhaling the words in a single exhausted breath. Pietro mumbled something to her, and she just smoothed a hand over his scalp.
Kurt rallied his patience for one last sally forth. "I can't let there be trouble," he explained, maintaining a reasonable facade. "Trouble means we don't get out of Mutie Town."
"Oh," she said with disinterest.
Somebody clattered noisily, and with a distinct lack of coordination, outside the door of the Temple. Kurt winced and tried to look inconspicuous. Rogue and Pietro, fortuitously, already looked like a pile of dirty rags.
"Come *on *, Rogue," he hissed, checking warily over his shoulder.
"Don't wanna," she muttered.
"If," Kurt snapped, "we are not back in the building we should be when Grasshopper comes to check on us, then he'll come looking for us. He has our sister, Rogue. Have you seen him? Do you trust him with Robyn?"
"... No," she said reluctantly.
"Come on, then," he said, appeasing, reaching out his hand.
Pietro looked up at her then in mute appeal. She hesitated, looking down at him, and faltered.
Kurt heard another drunkard outside, and grabbed Rogue's hand before it could fall back down.
Pietro found himself holding on to nothing but a noisome stench and the afterimages of a yellow glare of light. He began to weep again.
*******************
Rogue had jerked angrily out of Kurt's grasp as soon as they had appeared in the house in which they had been sequestered. She stalked over to the unwashed mattress and lay down, wriggling her shoulders until she was comfortable and then pointedly facing away from him. Kurt, too tired to really protest his innocence, sighed and jumped up on to the table, taking up his habitual crouch.
The leg of the table creaked threateningly, and he moved over to the uncomfortable chair with reluctance. _Even the furniture is against me,_ he thought with black humour.
Bairn, fortunately, had not returned to her post.
Kurt had nothing to do. Sleep was precluded by Rogue's sullen occupation of the sole mattress, and there was nothing of any interest in the room. There wasn't even any grafitti, a sure sign, he thought, of final despair. Or possibly illiteracy. He couldn't be sure. In any case, the end result was the same: boredom.
It was incredible, Kurt reflected, that after all they had been through since Bayville, after all the blood and tears, that the thing that most grated against him now was the lack of activity. He'd been looking forward to doing nothing for weeks, and now he had the chance to - well, it was absolutely stultifying.
He composed dirty limericks in German and English, then immediately forgot them. He put all the Beatles albums in order, chronologically, alphabetically, by length, by how much he enjoyed them and so on until he started to seriously consider eating his own face off for a change of pace. Before he could resort to such drastic action, luckily, Grasshopper arrived.
"Kurt, yes?" he said briefly, walking into the room unannounced. Kurt had been rocking back and forth on the chair, and was taken by surprise.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes. I'm Kurt."
"Good, good. You're the one leading this little band of yours?"
Two short men with crumpled faces edged around either of Grasshopper's shoulders and stood guard impatiently.
"Well, I wouldn't quite say leading," Kurt began, eyeing the muscle warily. "We don't really follow any one per - "
"Don't fuck me around, boy. I don't have the time."
"Um. Yes."
"Lovely. I need to talk to you."
"What about Rogue?"
"Bubbles and Redeye will look after her, don't worry."
Rogue had fallen asleep, and was unable to contest the award of her stewardship. Bubbles, whose skin was a deathly grey, had a grin of hot, wet needles. Redeye[2], slightly the taller, looked impassive. Livid red skin slashed viciously down across both his white eyes in the shape of a tattered banner.
"Don't worry," Grasshopper assured Kurt in a bored tone, seeing his discomfort. "They're more than capable. Come along."
Kurt obliged grudgingly, hopping off the chair and slouching over to the door. Grasshopper stood aside in a parody of etiquette, and closed the door behind them as they left the building. They walked out into the more or less abandoned streets of Mutie Town, picking their way through broken asphalt and the empty shells of cars, headed nowhere in particular. An uneasy silence passed between the two.
"Do you know," asked Grasshopper suddenly, once they had reached the end of the second block they were walking down, "how Mutie Town is governed? We have a council, of which I am nominally in charge. In reality, I'm only there to make sure that what they decree gets done. To cut to the chase, Kurt, your life is in their hands. Or rather, it was. They've decided not to let you leave Mutie Town for the time being, I'm afraid."
Kurt was taken aback by the Grasshopper's abrupt mode of speech, and his tail twitched unconsciously with the artificial cadence of it. "Until when?" he asked, once he had run through what he had just learned.
"Until they see fit to change their minds. The council are rather an inflexible bunch, so there isn't really much chance of getting them to change aforesaid minds, though I am due for a meeting with them at some point."
"You can't be serious," Kurt said quietly, appalled.
Grasshopper snorted. "I'm always serious. It's one of the perks of this job."
"We have to get to the west coast," Kurt protested weakly.
"You don't anymore," Grasshopper shrugged. "You can live just fine here."
"Why won't you let us go?"
"Not me, them. And I don't know. Like I say, I'm just here to do what the council tells me."
"But we've got Pietro," Kurt argued, "Magneto's son. Don't you worship him or something?"
Grasshopper snorted again. "Magneto, yes, a lot of people do. Same for Pietro. But seriously, Kurt, you can't use him in your favour. He's a blubbering idiot. You saw him this afternoon."
"Uh... what?"
Grasshopper took Kurt's discomfiture in stride. "I know you and that girl - Rogue? Kitty?"
"Rogue."
"Rogue, right. I know she went to visit him at the Temple after you went to find your sister. Or daughter, or whatever you call her. Rather touching, I thought, being reunited with the little furball like that. The same with her and Pietro. I know that you went to fetch her afterwards, so I know that you've seen the state he's in. He's a suicidal mess. Anything that he says, anything he asks of the council could be immediately discredited."
Kurt stumbled for words.
Grasshopper smirked, and said, "A little Sneaoops told me."
"Bastard," Kurt snarled suddenly, rounding sharply on Grasshopper. "You can't hold us here, and you had no right to spy on us like that!" He threw a wild punch, which glanced off Grasshopper's carapace.
Grasshopper didn't seem to notice the blow at all, but simply buried one fist heavily into Kurt's gut. Kurt collapsed with astonishing rapidity, black bleeding into the corners of his vision. Grasshopper nonchalantly took a seat on a large chunk of upturned concrete beside him, and waited for him to regain his breath.
"Bastard," Kurt choked out again, when he could spare the breath for speech. Grasshopper looked down on him with something bordering on contempt, then looked away.
Suddenly, bitterly, he said "Do you know what I used to do before the virus, Kurt? I used to teach children to play the piano."
"You?" Kurt asked through gritted teeth, beginning to regain his breath.
"You wouldn't have thought it, would you?" agreed Grasshopper, raising all four hands to make his point. "But Des Moines was fairly open-minded about such things. So long as I didn't draw much attention to myself, I was all right. The extra fingers were a useful bonus, of course."
"Of course," Kurt said, pulling himself to his feet heavily. As soon as he got back to those feet, however, still gasping, he sat back down on the ground beside Grasshopper's lump of concrete, feeling foolish.
"What about you?"
"I was a foreign exchange student in New York State. A little town called Bayville. You may have heard of it."
Grasshopper looked down at him with narrowed eyes. "I guess that makes you the Bayville Demon, then."
"Lucky me."
"Lucky you," he agreed. "Don't let it become common knowledge, though. The Bayville Demon isn't too popular in these parts."
"Great. Another thing to look out for."
They sat in silence for another few minutes. "So what does life in Mutie Town entail?" Kurt asked.
"For you? Nothing. Find a job if you want something to do. Otherwise, find food and clothes. You can take any house you want that no-one's living in, but most of the desirable ones are taken already. Just like being unemployed, basically, but without social security."
"And how does that stop us leaving town?"
"Teeps. The council's full of the bastards. Bastards," Grasshopper concluded succinctly.
"Not all of them," Kurt protested, thinking of Jean Grey and the Professor.
"All the ones I know, anyway."
"Is there some way to appeal to the council?"
"Yeah. Through me. It isn't going to work, let me assure you."
"There's no way of getting out?"
"Short of starting some kind of bloody insurrection, probably not. And you don't look like the type to inspire an insurrection, I'm afraid."
Kurt grinned sharply. "I started a civil war just by going out in public. Don't be too sure."
"I think I'm fairly confident that you won't manage it," said Grasshopper. "Anyway, time to take you back to your humble abode. You're in it for the night, then we take you to meet the rest of your little gang and toss you out in the streets in the morning. Personally, I'm rather looking forward to it."
"I love you, too."
Grasshopper just laughed hollowly, and then helped Kurt to his feet. "Come on. This is the way back."
*******************
"Have fun, all," Bubbles drawled, as they were escorted out of the warehouse that stood in for Mutie Town's prison. For some inexplicable reason, it was where Grasshopper had chosen for them all to meet up after a night spent in separate houses, and made for a strange, cold reception with its bars and individual cages.
Bubbles drew to a halt, hustling the hastily regrouped party out onto the street. "Your bus is impounded somewhere. It got towed last night. Where, I dunno, but it's prob'ly been scavenged by now anyways. Have a look if you want," he said carelessly, then closed and locked the door.
Kurt and his makeshift band of survivors and misfits stood in the dusty street, completely directionless and staring at the closed aperture.
Raven was the first to talk. "I guess we should look for the bus, then," she suggested.
Kurt nodded curtly [3] and stalked off down the street. The rest started to straggle after him.
Kitty, with Hope, and Rogue took up the rear of the parade. Rogue rested her hand gently on Kitty's elbow to guide her. Neither of them said anything.
The three children played and chattered around Raven and Alvin, who were discussing their situation in hushed and sombre tones. Logan was walking with a swift, business-like stride and rapidly pulling abreast of Kurt, presumably to talk to him.
Pietro had been left in the Temple. Some of them hadn't even seen him, yet. They hadn't been allowed.
"That's your considered opinion of the situation, then, is it?" Alvin was asking Raven, amused.
"Yep," she agreed. "Absolutely fubar. Pardon my language, but we are utterly, utterly screwed. Still, guess we'd better make the most of it, no? There's got to be some way of worming our way out. There always is. Believe me, I'm an expert."
Daisy tugged at Raven's sleeve. "What's fubar?"
"It's a very bad word," Alvin began, but Raven interrupted him.
"It means fucked up beyond all recognition, see? F-U-B-A-R, that's the initials."
Alvin spluttered briefly, but subsided when Raven cast a sideways glance, in both a literal and figurative sense, at him.
"I know that," Daisy said proudly. "Logan taught me to *spell*."
"Did he now?" Alvin said grimly.
"Yep," she agreed, grinning. "Logan's a good dad. Better'n my real one, anyway."
"Everyone's got to be good at something," he said caustically, before looking away, ashamed.
Daisy looked puzzled, but Raven just ruffled her hair. "Alvin's just being an old maid, Daisy. Go on and have fun, okay?"
"Okay," she giggled, and skipped away to where Alvin and Robyn were playing some form of tag; Ariel had taken to playing like a fish to water. [4]
Once they were out of earshot, Alvin looked at Raven with narrowed eyes, until she snickered at his serious face and asked him what the matter was.
"I am *not* an old maid."
Raven cracked up in laughter. "Oh, you *so* are."
"Are not," he sniffed with dignity.
"Are too."
"Are not."
"Are too..."
"Those two're gettin' pretty cosy," Rogue commented to Kitty from their position as the token stragglers.
Kitty shrugged noncommittally. "Could be," she said eventually, adjusting Hope on her arm.
"An' Logan an' Kurt are way ahead of 'em," Rogue continued, "tryin' to out-manly-man each other. Looks like it's gonna be a fine ol' lifetime in Des Moines, the mutant paradise."
Kitty sighed. "Do you really think that's the way it's going to be, Rogue? Do you think we *are* going to be here for a lifetime?"
Rogue shrugged. "Certainly looks that way. I can't see no way out."
Kitty sighed again. "Where'd we go wrong, Rogue?"
A smirk - although the effect was obviously lost on its intended audience. "Gettin' born mutants was our first mistake, I reckon. After that, the rest of it just came natural."
Kitty snorted, and her lips twisted into a thin smile. "If I'd known this was going to happen ahead of time, I'd have opted for different parents."
Rogue echoed the sentiments with a brief giggle. "Damn straight," she agreed. Her grin faded from her face. "You wouldn't have met Lance, then, probably. Or had Hope."
The sunglasses hid Kitty closing her eyes. "I guess not," she agreed quietly. "But..."
"But what?"
"You know but what. I can't help but think that maybe... maybe it would have been better if I hadn't been a mutant, even if I never met Lance."
"'Speak nought but good of the dead,'" Rogue quoted, and then immediately regretted it.
Kitty grimaced and pulled away slightly. "Well, it's a pointless discussion now. He's dead, and we're stuck here."
"Aw, here, Kitty, I didn't mean anyth -"
"I know you didn't." There was a long pause. Kurt and Logan had stopped to have an animated disagreement in the road ahead, and the rest of them were slowly catching up. "It's just," she continued suddenly, her breath jerking in her throat, "I don't know I'll ever find anyone as good as... as..." She cut herself off with a hiccoughing sob.
Rogue wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and was glad Kitty couldn't see how the sudden closeness affected her. "Hey, there," she offered. "Hush, now."
Hope started to wail as Kitty's tears dripped, one by one, onto her tiny face and shirt.
"I miss him," she said after a moment, in between wracking sobs and long sniffs. "God help me, he could be a primo jerk, and was jealous as hell, but I miss him so much... He never *did* anything to anybody. He could, but he never did. Even when people threatened us, all he did was turn around and get us out of there instead of fighting."
"Because he cared," Rogue soothed, wincing under the sudden onslaught of emotion. "He was... a good guy."
Kitty exhaled, and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. "Perhaps that's what I should have written on his marker. That Grasshopper guy said Lance could... could have a place in the old churchyard here, next to their old priestess."
Rogue held her close, and gently soothed both mother and child as they emptied their tears onto her. "Lance Alvers, good guy and father. Like it?"
Kitty nodded.
"Feel better now?"
"Not really. But... I'll get there. Slowly. Heck, I got over leaving both my parents *and* my old life in the same day, not to mention losing my sight that week. I can... I'll survive. I'll live."
"An' that's your gift, girl. That's what Lance went out doin' - protectin' life."
Kitty straightened up, though her cheeks were still wet. "Lance Alvers," she intoned after a moment, "Good guy, father, and protector of life."
Rogue nodded, and returned her hand to the younger girl's elbow. "Nice choice. Classy."
*******************
The group of mutants eventually found their bus on the outskirts of Mutie Town. It had indeed been gutted, and all of Forge's work had vanished, to be taken apart by other hands and used over, no doubt. Yet some supplies remained and, more importantly...
"Clive!"
The two girls went to their puppy and hugged it, whilst Kurt looked on wearily, remembering all the trouble that little dog had caused. He didn't go near, and snapped a quick warning to the children not to let themselves be licked, which was met by groans, but compliance. The leash tying Clive to the upstairs seats had been completely chewed through, telling how she'd escaped becoming food for the hungry scavengers.
As one, they proceeded to search their erstwhile home, taking anything useful they could find - which was precious little.
At noontime, with the light of the sun beating down upon their backs, they paused for a rest.
It was whilst they were sitting around, discussing their future plans, that Robyn noticed something.
"Kurti," she drawled, the sun on her fur making her drowsy. "Kurti, what's that?"
She pointed with a claw to the horizon and, looking carefully, Kurt made out a small dot, like a bird or a plane. It was flying through the air, and after a time he realised it was flying towards Mutie Town, and getting bigger the nearer it got.
*******************
Magneto piloted the ship with a strength and passion the others could hardly believe.
Hank had used Cerebro II to find Pietro's location, though it had taken many hours due to the excessive amounts of energy needed to power up the machine without totally draining that which powered Asteroid M. The call had come in just a little while ago, startling them all into sudden wakefulness in the noon sun as they received Hank's message.
Pietro was in a small place called Mutie Town, not a few miles from their current location.
"But boss," said Wolfsbane, "Those people are mutants... our kind..."
"And they won't be punished overly," assured Magneto, his voice odd. "Only the son must die. As long as they don't protect him they'll be spared."
Spider-Man shivered at this proclamation, but said nothing. What could he do, after all? Besides, surely a man had the right to avenge against those who had harmed his family, right?
No, no that wasn't right. This entire situation was certainly nothing to do with 'right,' and Peter knew that the dark, dull feeling of wrongness would only grow the closer they got to the cluster of ruins and shacks that was Mutie Town.
But Magneto was so much more powerful than any of them. Probably than all of them put together. How could he go against the older man's desire to kill without becoming the victim himself?
*******************
The mutants outside of what had once been Des Moines, Iowa, gasped in surprise as the strange, flat, circular craft easily stopped in mid-air. It reminded them far too much of Star Wars' Millennium Falcon, save for the two huge engines glued to its spine. These same engines glowed with heat, but no sound was forthcoming. The craft was oddly silent.
A few scattered yells brought out the rest of Mutie Town to witness this spectacle.
The craft hovered for a few moments more, then a hatch opened. A soft hum filled the air, but before anyone could move an electro-magnetic pulse wave knocked the entire populace running to the outskirts to their knees.
Magneto, herald of the coming age, slowly levitated to the ground with his three Acolytes.
A handful of figures, just outside the range of the force, drew themselves up from the ground. They staggered forward, leaving his halo of power until they were able to at least stand without it being a strain.
Magneto's mouth pressed into a thin line, not impressed with this resistance. "I have come for my son," he said in a calm voice. "Do not get in my way."
The handful did not move. One took a step forward.
{SNIKT}
"Magneto. So what if we do, bub?"
"An entire metal skeleton, and you defy me?" Magneto's cold eyes fell upon his three companions. "And you stand with him? I am not amused."
Exhibiting extreme resilience and strength, someone shouldered his way upright from the masses, staggering forward to where the force was no so great. A buzzing of concealed wings, and Grasshopper spoke. "The Council does not take well to intruders."
"We will not abandon our family so easily," spat out something blue and fuzzy, elf-like in shape.
"The Goddess' Will be done," prayed another quietly, stepping forward to join the line of four fighters, while the others clustered around a group of children.
Magneto's Acolytes moved to stand beside him, and the others lined up, facing off against them like the last line of defence in some overblown war movie in the Old World.
"A Wolverine, the Bayville Demon, an insect, and a human? These are my son's protectors?" Magneto laughed; a cold, cruel sound. He lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. At the signal, his Acolytes surged forward.
Magnus Rex had returned to claim his throne.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] Paraphrased from Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_.
[2] Bubbles and Redeye are meant to be Wildchild and Wildside, respectively. But I've always wanted to call Wildchild Bubbles.
[3] I've resisted saying this for so long, so please let me off just this once.
[4] Okay, forgive me again.