Roguechere – I don't think I've actually put in who the Phantom actually was. I believe I've just dropped hints along the way.
Star-of-Chaos – It may have been a good costume but it would have been disturbing.
Roguehobbit – I have no idea about Emma's past in the comics. But when I say small part I mean small part. As you will see this chapter.
Winter Fire – Can you take the suspense? I hope so because … Actually I don't have anything to say after that. Must be loosing my touch…
Ishandahalf – Instructor Olympics eh? I could definitely see it being done. Jean sure got told didn't she? Well, I was tempted to just call this chapter 'Phantom of the Institute: The Trio Strikes Back.' But that really has nothing to do with most of the chapter.
As a general note I was expecting to see more reactions from the argument between Jean and the Trio. Not that it matters, I guess, given all the complaints Jean has received before, that more people were glad she was finally told off.
Thanks to Spiffythefaery for beta reading this story. And for putting up with my designs to not put in all the parts she wants to see. Muha.
Disclaimer: I just realized that I haven't done this in a while. But I don't own X-Men: Evolution or Phantom of the Opera. So take the lawyers and step away from the author!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why so silent, good messieurs?
Did you think that I had left you for good?"
- the Phantom
War is a funny thing. Most of the time it is unexpected, despite the myriad factors that signal hostilities beginning. Thus the strike, pre-emptive or retaliatory, catches the party unaware.
Scott Summers was taken aback completely by the strike made on him.
Perhaps the cause of the attack was his steadfast refusal to see Jean in any light besides the most positive and glowing. Perhaps it was the argument that he had with the three mischief-makers the night before. Perhaps it was his forcing the three boys into the Danger Room during the night. Whatever the reason for it, the boys had declared war on Scott and he was caught by surprise.
The exact moment that Scott figured out that he was the subject of a horrible catastrophe is known only to the boy himself. But the rest of the mansion, sans those responsible for the prank, found out as they reported to the Danger Room for their morning session. Perhaps it was the time of day or perhaps it simply the shock of witnessing Scott in his state, but nevertheless every single member of the X-Men were shocked into complete silence.
For, in front of the assembled team, in the midst of the Danger Room, was Scott Summers. He had been tied to a crudely constructed wheelchair. A gag had been forced into his mouth, preventing any noise beyond grunts from issuing from the bespectacled youth. His head had been shaved completely bald and waxed, the light sparkling off it. He was dressed in a turtleneck and sports jacket. His hands were locked together to form a steeple, and it appeared that he was unable to move them into any other position. Written across his forehead, in large red letters, was 'Mini Professor.'
All eyes turned to the Trio, who looked defiant in the face of their teammates disapproving glares.
"He should have listened to us last night," Bobby replied with a nonchalant tone and shrug. Kitty frowned at the boys as she made her way over to Scott and removed the gag from his mouth.
"You bastards!" Scott spat as soon as he could. "Why on earth did you do this?"
"You should understand vhat it means vhen there is var," Kurt replied as Kitty untied Scott from the chair. Scott attempted to stand up but found that he was unable to do so.
"What the…" Scott muttered as he found himself sticking to his chair with his hands still stuck together. "What did you do?"
"We did nothing. But our good friend Mr. Superglue, well that's another story mate," John cackled.
"Superglue? Superglue! You're dead!"
"Ah contraire Slim, you can't even get up. How you going to kill us? I mean last time I checked the Professor hasn't been able to sneak up on anybody."
"I don't care. I'll still kill you."
"Doesn't look likely mate. Now we stayed up late in the Danger Room last night and we're dead tired. So if you'll excuse us." The assembled mutants looked on in shock as the three boys marched out of the Danger Room, laughing hysterically.
***
Fortunately for Scott he was not forced to spend the rest of the day attached to the wheelchair. Hank had been able to provide the helpless boy some relief by forcing the glue to dissolve. Still Scott, and Jean, were smarting over the incident all day. They shot daggers in the direction of the mischievous boys, who had somehow been able to escape punishment, which was mystery of itself.
Around noon the females of the mansion had vanished upstairs, apparently getting ready for the ball. Even though there was still several hours before the event was to start, the actions were not questioned. The only problem of half the mansion leaving to get dressed was that Scott had decided to hang around with Lance, who was spending the day with the Trio in his general vicinity. Scott refused to even acknowledge the three boys, hoping that the cold shoulder would be a punishment of sorts. This treatment had no effect on the boys, who seemed to enjoy the sight of the bald Scott. In fact Scott's new hairdo was a magnet for attention; everyone's eyes were simply pulled towards it.
Mustering all the dignity he could to ignore the looks that were headed his direction Scott attempted to hold a conversation with Lance as the sun was beginning to set outside the Institute grounds. For his part, Lance was exerting all his will to look at Scott in the eye and nowhere above that. Over the past several minutes the conversation had shifted to the topic of the ball, which was on everyone's minds – along with Scott's new hairdo.
"So what are you going as?" Lance asked with an eye on the clock. He knew the repercussions that he would be forced to endure if he wasn't dressed for the ball and waiting for Kitty to make her grand entrance.
"Jean and I decided to have matching costumes," Scott replied as he too kept a careful eye on the time.
"Oh yeah? Kitty and I did the same. Actually, it was all Kitty."
"Well Jean proposed the idea to me but I actually liked it. So I agreed to play along."
"That's nice. But what are you going as?"
"I'm going as a ballplayer. I'd say more but then I'd give away Jean's costume. Fortunately, I have a cap so today's activities will not have any effect," Scott hissed acidly as he shot a look in the direction of the Trio. The three boys were lounging in the corner and met Scott's glance with befuddling grins. Lance noticed the looks and blanched mentally. He knew that they meant mischief. The lecherous grins plastered across their faces made Scott uneasy as he turned away to face Lance again.
"So what about you and Kitty? What are you're costumes for tonight?"
"I can't spoil the surprise now can I? But I'll tell you this much, it's a damn good thing that I love Kitty because I've never worn tights before."
"Tights?"
"I know. Please let it go. I'm going to have enough trouble with them," Lance said as he threw his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the still-grinning Trio.
"I won't say a word. You can count of that." Lance shot Scott a look of appreciation. It was then that Lance noticed that something was odd. The room had fallen deathly silent. The other boys in the room had ceased their conversation. Looking up with concern Lance saw the figures of three people block the light.
"What do you want?" The still bald Scott snapped at the boys.
"Ve have a question for you."
"What?"
"What's your costume for the ball?"
"What do you care?"
"Curiosity."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"No. A ghost did."
"So mate, what you going as?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Ve made a bet."
"About my costume?"
"Right in one Slim."
"Shut up Bobby."
"Tell us the answer and we'll leave you alone."
"Promise?"
"Would we lie to you mate?"
"Does the Professor use a wheelchair?"
"Not when I've burned it."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing. Must have been the wind."
"What wind?"
"Forget about it Scott. Just tell us."
"Who'd you make the bet with?"
"Why does it matter?"
"You want to know about my costume?"
"Fine. We bet Remy."
"How much?"
"Enough. Vill you tell us or not?"
"Fine. I'm going as a baseball player."
"A what?"
"A baseball player."
"I think you made a mistake."
"What are you babbling about Drake?"
"You made a mistake, oh Great Fearless Leader."
"Are you saying that I don't know my own costume?"
"You said it, not us mein freund."
"Stop with the nonsense. I'm going as a baseball player."
"That ain't gonna work."
"Why not?"
"Cause we bet that you were going as a mime."
"I'm supposed to care because?"
"Ve hate losing money."
"Wait! What do you think you're doing?" Scott managed to shout out as he, and the Trio, vanished in a cloud of brimstone. Lance shook his head in disbelief at this new turn of events. He couldn't help but pity Scott Summers at that moment.
***
After many hours of anticipation the sun finally returned to its hidden place beneath the horizon, allowing night to reign supreme over the land. As the darkness came so did the event that had long been awaited at the Xavier Institute – the masquerade ball.
Guests had been pouring through the foyer of the estate since the sun had set, all ready to usher in the New Year with joyful celebrations.
Professor Xavier sat in the hallway, graciously welcoming each guest to his home. He had elected not to wear a mask, knowing that his identity would be quite easily discerned. On top of the professor's head was an oversized, checkered patterned, offensively bright colored hat. A small band was strapped around the hat and a card reading "10/6" was attached to the band. Xavier was wearing a lime-green suit with a spinning blue bowtie. To complete the costume the old man was clenching a teacup in his left hand.
Standing beside the Mad Hatter Xavier was Henry McCoy. The large mutant was slouching forward to reveal an abnormal hump on his back. He shuffled along the hallway, dragging his right foot limply. False teeth had been placed in his mouth and his grin was a deterrent to anyone wanting him to grin for the rest of the evening. At random times Hank would, for his own amusement, exclaim about the bells.
While Hank and the Professor greeted the visitors to the mansion, the rest of the mingled with the crowd, certain to keep an eye or two out for the students. Ororo and Forge roamed about the ball together, half watching half dancing. Ororo was decked in a sparkling white gown with wings attached to her back. A snow white mask dangled over her eyes, its brilliance contrasting with her dark skin. Forge was nowhere near as impressive as Ororo but stood out in the crowd more. He had shown up decked out in disco clothes, complete with bellbottoms. Some of the students had objected to his costume, but Forge had been kind enough to point out that he hadn't been informed that it was a masquerade ball and the disco outfit was the only suitable clothing he had.
Jean and Scott danced across the room, unaware of the others. Jean was dressed up as Marilyn Monroe. Scott was, due to influences beyond his control, a mime. Jean's anger had known no limits when Scott first appeared with a face paler than a ghost but those responsible for his appearance had yet to make an appearance.
Besides Scott and Jean on the dance floor was the matching couple of Lance and Kitty. From the costumes they were decked out in, it was apparent that Kitty had determined what they were going to be wearing. Lance, much to his chagrin, was struggling with green tights and a tunic. A cap was perched upon his head with a bright red feather stuck into the felt material. A green mask was slapped across his face. Kitty was dressed up as the spitting image of Maid Marian to Lance's Robin Hood. Grumbling at his costume, Lance allowed Kitty to maneuver him around the dance floor, much to her delight.
Standing off to the side of the ball was Remy and Rogue. The former had a sash tied around his waist and a bandana on his head. The latter was wearing excessively white makeup and decked in all black. Despite her mouth being closed the tips of two fangs could be seen peeking out from her ruby red lips. Remy fiddled with a fake sword at his side while Rogue's fingers twirled in a short black cape.
Rogue's eyes scanned the crowd, her emerald irises passing over each guest assembled. She was looking for no one in particular, merely avoiding Remy's eyes. He had asked for her to dance but she had refused, pointing out that she was showing some skin which could lead to potential problems. But that refusal wasn't the only matter weighing on Remy's mind.
"Rogue," the pirate dressed Remy asked, his voice dripping with concern. Rogue made no move to face him, or even gave him an indication that she was listening. Remy knew that despite her façade, she was paying close attention to his next words.
"When you gonna tell dem about our decision?" Rogue sighed slightly and turned to face the demon-eyed Cajun.
"Not now Remy," she replied with a slight frown.
"Why not? Seems like as good a time as any."
"Ah don't think this would be the best time to tell everyone."
"Den when Rogue? Or are you planning to not tell anyone?" Remy replied, his voice a tad harsher than he had intended.
"Of course Ah intended to tell them. Just not tonight."
"Chere, dat's what you've said for the past week. Sometime you gonna have to tell them," Remy said quietly as he laid his hand on her shoulder. Rogue nodded slightly at his words.
"Ah know. Maybe tomorrow night," she said with pleading eyes. Remy nodded slightly.
"All right Chere. If you want to tell them tomorrow den Remy's fine with dat. But why don't you want to tell them?"
"Ah – Ah have my reasons. Just wait until the time is right." Remy frowned, but he realized that he would get no more out of the girl on the subject.
"Alright Chere. Remy hopes that one day he'll be able to understand." Rogue smiled slightly at Remy and their eyes locked momentarily, love spilling between them. Their private moment was interrupted as a shadow eclipsed them. Remy glance at the person before them and quickly stifled a laugh.
"Where are they?" Logan growled through clenched teeth.
"Who, mon ami?"
"You know who I'm talking about Cajun."
"Ah'm sure their around. Why you looking for them?" Logan gestured to his outfit.
"I fell asleep and when I woke up I was dressed in this," Logan snarled. Rogue cracked a smile.
"Ah think black leather looks good on you Logan." Remy nodded in agreement.
"Besides, you fill out de bat-suit quite well." Logan barred his teeth in anger. Whirling around, sending his cape flailing into the air, Logan marched off to find the boys responsible for dressing him in such a demeaning costume.
Remy's eyes lit up with amusement as he watched the feral instructor march off, swathed in black leather. His entertainment was cut short by a sharp pain in his back.
"We meet again Monsieur LeBeau. But this time the advantage is ours," a sinister voice hissed into the Cajun's ear. Remy whirled about to see three rapiers pointed at his chest. Holding the three slim swords were Bobby, Kurt, and John – dressed as musketeers.
Grinning, Remy drew his cutlass and brought it up to the en-guard position, his blade touching the other swords.
"Remy beg to differ 'bout dat."
"Ah ha. A challenge. A mistake you shall regret!" Bobby declared as he lunged forward with his weapon. Remy cheerfully slashed at the sword, knocking it out of the way and lunged at Bobby. Remy's attack was parried by the other two blades. Taking a step backward, Remy brought his sword up again, ready to counter the boys' attacks.
The swordplay had attracted quite a crowd. They had cleared a fairly large circle in the middle of the floor, giving the combatants room to fight. The swords sang as they cut through the air, twanging loudly as plastic crashed on plastic.
Despite being outnumbered Remy put up a valiant fight. He parried every blow that came his way, and offered a few of his own. His movements were fluid and flawless, his sword seeming to be a natural extension of his body.
But, despite all of his skill, Remy was outmatched. There were three swords to his one, and Kurt was far better at handling a blade than Remy could ever hope to be. With a quick flick of his wrist, Kurt sent Remy's cutlass airborne into the shrieking crowd. Remy found himself staring at the ends of the Trio's blades.
"Do you yield?" Bobby asked, mustering as much seriousness into his voice as he could. It took all of Remy's restraint to not crack a grin.
"Remy never surrender to the likes of you."
"Then you are giving us no choice. Ve must strike." John, with a sadistic grin painted on his face, lunged forward, plunging his blade into Remy. The sword collapsed on itself, giving the appearance that it was actually thrust through tender flesh. Remy stumbled backwards, his hand clutching his now red tunic.
"A mortal wound. You fowl knaves. Dis crime shall not go unpunished. Remy shall be avenged!" With a final cry Remy collapsed onto the floor in a heap. The crowd was deathly silent for a moment before erupting with applause. Remy leapt to his feet and joined the other three boys in taking a quick succession of bows.
The action having concluded, the crowd began to break up and resume the activities that they were engaged in before the show. Remy picked up his sword and placed it back in its scabbard at his side.
"And when were you gonna tell me that you were gonna have a sword fight in the middle of the ball?" Rogue asked with a raised eyebrow as the crowd dispersed enough to allow her to get close. Remy merely replied with a charming grin.
"And spoil de surprise Chere?"
"You better not be planning on 'rescuing' me any time during this ball Remy."
"Remy say nothing on de matter."
"Besides wouldn't you rather he rescues you if you need it?" Kurt asked as he twirled his sword around his fingers. Rogue turned to leer at the youth.
"And why would Ah need to be rescued?"
"Hypothetically speaking of course," Kurt replied quickly.
"Besides even we aren't dumb enough to try and kidnap you," Bobby remarked with a grin.
"So, like, how long did you guys plan that fight?" Kitty asked, as she and Lance wormed their way into the conversation. The Trio's eyes lit up as soon as they saw Lance, their cheeks twitched in barely contained amusement.
"Plan? Petite, dey never plan. Dey just do."
"That whole thing was unrehearsed?"
"All dey said to Remy was bring a sword."
"So that entire fight was unrehearsed?"
"Dat's what Remy been trying to say."
"It was pretty impressive."
"As are those tights," Bobby cracked, unable to contain his amusement. Lance scowled.
"Shut up."
"No, no, no. Lance, you misunderstand me. I think its becoming on you. The green matches your eyes so well."
"Drake, you're walking a dangerous road."
"I'm not the only one who finds it amusing."
"Let it lie. Or else you're in for a world of hurt."
"And forsake the Code? Never?" Bobby retorted with a gleam in his eye.
"Code?" Rogue questioned. This was the first time she had ever heard of anything binding the boys besides mischief.
"Yes. The Code," Kurt replied as he, Bobby, and John drew their swords. Crossing their blades in the air the three boys shouted, "All for humor and humor for all!"
"Now, if you'll excuse us, there are others out there you are being deprived of laughter," John said as the three boys turned around and began to walk off. And ran right into Logan.
"And where do you think you're going?" Logan growled.
"To enjoy the party."
"I don't think so. I told you no pranks tonight."
"Ve know. Ve haven't done anything."
"Oh? Then care to explain why I'm wearing this," Logan hissed furiously with a gesture towards his outfit. The boys looked back at Logan with confusion running away with their faces.
"Because it's your costume?" Bobby offered.
"Try again."
"Logan, ve have no idea vhat you're talking about."
"I'm dressed up as a man parading around as an overgrown rodent!"
"You normally are a man parading around as an overgrown rodent. This bothers you now because?" John asked. Logan paused for a moment, taken aback by this point.
"Because I didn't pick this out."
"Logan? What's going on?" Raven asked as she made her way towards the group. Logan rolled his eyes for a moment before turning to face the shape-shifter.
"Nothing. Just having a little conversation with the boys."
"Couldn't the conversation wait until later?"
"It needs to be discussed now. They have a lesson to learn."
"If it concerns your outfit then I think you should know that the boys had nothing to do with it." Logan straightened up immediately and leered at Raven.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ororo, Hank, and I got it for you since you had no intention of getting a costume for yourself." Logan stared blankly at Raven, having realized that he was not the subject of some prank.
"Oh." Attempting to restore some of his wounded pride, Logan whirled around and glared at the boys. "Then, as a preemptive warning, don't ever do something like this."
His piece said Logan stormed off into the dancing partygoers, intent on watching the ball from afar.
"Kurt. Professor Xavier left something in his office that he needs. It's on his desk. Would you fetch it for him?" Raven asked as her face transformed into a hideous skull. Rogue blanched at the sight of Raven's "mask." Kurt nodded as he vanished in a cloud of smoke. The rest of the group broke up, in order to enjoy the ball.
***
Kurt was preceded by his usual cloud of brimstone. It took him a few moments to find the item that Professor Xavier had wanted, a small manila folder. Grasping the folder Kurt was about to teleport down to the party, but recalled the Professor's wish that he, nor anyone else, use their powers during the party. Frowning to himself, Kurt burst out of the study at full speed, hoping to make back to the ball as quickly as he could.
Resisting the temptation to drop to all fours to increase his speed, Kurt shot through the corridors of the mansion. Unnaturally running on two legs, Kurt stumbled slightly as he rounded a corner and slammed into an unsuspecting guest. However, Kurt took the brunt of the collision. Slamming into the guest was comparable with running straight into a brick wall. He was sent sprawling to the floor while the guest remained upright.
"Oh. Sorry about that," Kurt moaned as he clutched his head. The guest said nothing in reply, merely extending his bare hand to help Kurt up. Thankful for the assistance Kurt stuck out his gloved hand to grasp the stranger's and was pulled to his feet. Brushing himself off, Kurt took a quick glance at the silent man.
There wasn't much to say. He was dressed in a tuxedo and a felt fedora was perched on his head. An opera cape hung from his shoulders. His face was completely covered by a simple white plaster mask that hid everything except for his mouth and chin.
"Vell. I'm really sorry about hitting you. I hope you enjoy the ball," Kurt said, unnerved by the silence he was receiving. Taking off again Kurt managed to put all thoughts of the silent stranger from his mind.
***
The night marched onward towards the new year. The ball cast a sense of enjoyment and peace over all those present and the time flew bye. Everyone had a wonderful time, thoroughly enjoying the festivities. New acquaintances were made and old ones were renewed.
Remy spent a good portion of an hour talking with a blond man who had snow white wings springing from his back and his date, a purple haired woman. Xavier was locked in conversation with the head of the Hellfire Club, Sebastian Shaw and his son Shinobi. Ororo and Forge spent most of the night together, only talking to a young boy that was Ororo's nephew.
The Trio had, to everyone's surprise, split up for the majority of the night. Kurt, having finished his errand, spent most of his time with a dark skinned girl from Bayville High, Amanda Sefton. Bobby, after having carved several B's into tapestries and costumes, spent the majority of the night flirting with a striking blonde decked in a blinding white outfit. John had attempted to swing on a few chandeliers but was ultimately stopped by Logan from pursuing that activity. He spent the rest of the night on the couch, watching the clock tick towards midnight (and the dying fire in the fireplace).
A murmur began to start buzzing in the crowd as the clock chimed at eleven forty-five, leaving only fifteen minutes until the new year. The buzz began to grow in volume with each passing minute. The entire crowd that had assembled for the ball had entered the vast den, each member present mentally counting down the seconds. Hands were gripped and fingers intertwined in preparation for the new year. Smiles were numerous, forcing their way onto the shining faces of the partygoers. All of the horrid memories about the past year were put into the past and everyone was looking forward to a bright future.
The buzz grew to even louder as the clock inched closer to the new year. Shouts were let loose prematurely and kisses were exchanged prior to the chime of midnight. Finally, after weeks of waiting the final countdown began, voices stentorian with joy as the numbers ticked off towards the new year. Each person in the den began verbally counting down, allowing their jubilation to spill out.
"Ten!" The countdown began.
"Nine!" Rogue and Remy exchanged a quick grin.
"Eight!" Ororo grabbed Forge's hand.
"Seven!" Bobby and the blonde began to make out prematurely.
"Six!" Xavier and Hank shook hands.
"Five!" Raven embraced her son.
"Four!" Kitty gave Lance a quick peck on the cheek.
"Three!" Jean and Scott turned to stare into each other's eyes.
"Two!" Logan's hand tightened on John's shoulder, earning a squeal of protest from the pyromaniac.
"One!" Shouts of jubilation erupted.
Before the shouts of elation could erupt to the dawn of the new year the power in the mansion surged for a moment before cutting out completely, plunging the mansion into complete darkness.
Confusion and fear replaced elation immediately as chaos overtook the Institute.
"What just…"
"How could…"
"I can't see anything!"
"…happened to the power?"
"…the power blow?"
"Can anyone find some source of light?"
"John!"
"All me lighters were taken before the ball. Remember?"
"And for good reason bub."
"Can't you give him one just for now Logan?"
"Are you crazy? He could burn down the mansion if can't see what he's doing!"
"He could burn down the mansion even if he could see."
"At least there would be some light!"
"Silence all of you!" Xavier ordered of the shrieking students. His order was obeyed as the room plunged into silence, in addition to the darkness. No one even dared to breathe loudly, making as little noise as physically possibly.
Then the silence was broken by a sound. A deep rumbling. A sound that sent a chill down the spines of all who heard it. It was laughter. A familiar laughter. The laughter of the Phantom.
The darkness that enveloped the mansion was lifted slightly as a single light flared to life, its glare cutting through the velvety night. Like moths to a flame, the people in the mansion were drawn to it. They began to file out of the den and into the entrance hall. The luminescence was coming from a single spot on the second floor, at the top of the stairs. Standing there, illuminated by the glow, was the Phantom.
He had discarded his usual outfit for this occasion, having dressed up for the ball. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a dark fedora perched on his head. An opera cape hung from his shoulders and reached to his calves. His face was hidden by a simple white plaster mask, which covered everything except for his mouth. Despite the poor light Kurt instantly recognized the costume from earlier.
The Phantom continued to laugh at the rest, who had assembled at the base of the stairs. His laughter died down and as it did the lights began to return, dispelling the darkness. The ball's attention was completely riveted on the man at the top of the stairs.
The Phantom cast a quick glance down at the crowd, his eyes taking in the sight of the frightened partygoers. As Rogue saw the cold gaze of the Phantom sweep over the crowd, she flinched and attempted to sink into those around her, hoping to avoid his gaze. Since he continued his sweep of the crowd without hesitation she could only assume, and hope, that he had not been able to pick her out in the crowd.
Silence greeted the Phantom, the crowd waiting for him to make the first move. Which he did.
"Surprised to see me?" the Phantom began, his deep voice evoking fear amongst those listening to his ominous speech. "Did you truly think that I had left you for good?
"Is it my presence that startles you? Or is it that you had forgotten about me? Consigned me to fantasy and prayed that I would stay buried in your memories? As you can see I have no intention of remaining there.
"You have had a respite from me. I have allowed you to recover from our last encounter," the Phantom said as he, ever so slowly, began to float down the stairs, his feet never touching the ground.
"But that time is now past. I have returned. And I bring with me a purpose to this goalless school. I have come in person to deliver my demands, to assure that there will be no complications. Obviously words must be spoken to get through and I will be obeyed. There are things far worse than a shattered Cerebro." As the Phantom spoke he withdrew a large manuscript from his cape. He floated down the rest of the stairs and tossed the leather bound document at the Professor, who simply let the package settle in his lap.
"In case you have a poor memory there is a set of written instructions, which are explicitly clear. They shall be followed to the letter. If they are not, you shall face my wrath.
"This school shall no longer seek to integrate its students with humanity. It will now teach the students to take their natural place in this world. Mutants are the next step in evolution and mutants shall rule this world, not live in peace with the humans. Any measures necessary will be taken to secure the status of mutants at the front of the world. I trust I am clear," the Phantom stated as he looked around the crowd, who was frozen in fear. The only person who wasn't completely frozen in terror was Logan.
"I don't know who you are or what you think but we aren't going to do what you say bub," Logan growled, trying to inspire fear into the Phantom. The Phantom said nothing, merely cocked his head to the side for a moment.
"Really?" was the Phantom's reply. Then he flicked his hand slightly and Logan was sent flying across the mansion and crashing into the fireplace. The Phantom looked at Logan for a moment before turning his gaze back onto the crowd.
"Does anyone else object to my decision?" Seeing no answer the Phantom nodded satisfactorily.
"Good. I hope that my instructions will be followed this time. I do not want to have to come back again," the Phantom said bitingly as he began to float back towards the stairs. Then he unexplainably stopped and turned to cast his gaze into the crowd.
Rogue flinched as she saw the Phantom's eyes lock onto her. The mysterious man floated towards her, those in front of rushing to get out of his path. Rogue attempted to stand straight but was encumbered by Remy's grasp. As inconspicuously as she could, she pushed herself away from Remy to face the Phantom.
The Phantom's eyes flickered over to Remy for a brief moment. His burning eyes, which Rogue noted were an icy blue, had focused on her completely. His bare hand snaked out from his side and caressed her cheek. The skin-to-skin contact did not go unnoticed by the observers. The Phantom brought his hand back and leaned towards Rogue to whisper harshly at her.
"You still are my pupil and you still have a debt to me. You will be mine!"
The lights surged and failed again. But this time the darkness was only momentarily and when the lights returned the Phantom was gone.
Free from the terror that had gripped them the crowd sighed in relief, and attempted to convince each other that what they had just seen was a prank inspired by too much alcohol and partying. However, Logan was brushing embers from his outfit, Xavier had the large manuscript on his lap, and Rogue was clutching her cheek.
After many weeks of peace and quiet, after many weeks of thinking that freedom was theirs, the Institute found itself in a precarious situation. The Phantom had returned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~