It's Marvel's, although they just keep screwing them up.


He had been called 'Le Diable Blanc'. Nuns had spat at his feet; unholy men had crossed themselves when they walked past. Children wailed at the sight of him. Sinners repented their sins upon seeing him. Atheist broke down and wept at his feet. His eyes marked him a demon, an unholy thing. But he had never known true evil, until this day.

And it would forever haunt his nightmares.

Jean lay on the bed next to him, her eyes large green pools against her pale skin. Her red hair pooled around her head like rusty blood. She was silent, her eyes moving, taking everything in.

"Jean? You okay?" Remy asked, disturbed by her appearance. She turned to him, slowly, a smile spreading languidly over her pretty face. It seemed oddly out of place. Her eyes seemed huge, as if they were expanding to take up her entire face, and trying just as hard to suck him into their endless stare. She extended her fingers and brushed the skin against the back of his hand. Her hand was like ice, leaving scratches of pure pain wherever they touched.

"In a little while, I'll be fine," she said, her voice echoing loudly in the small room. She looked at him, her forehead crinkling for a moment, her mouth in a silent gasp of pain, looking at him as if she really saw him. "Gambit, you'll have to kill me! Tell Scott I-," then she screamed in pain, her chest heaving off the bed but her hands still clamped to it, contorting her body. She fell back, silent, unconscious, her hand still touching his. His pulled away from her, wishing he too could fall into the blissful numbness of his own mind.

And that he could forget what she had said.

They had only been here about an hour, but had been unconscious for part of it. He wondered what had happened to Rogue and Scott, now that they had seemingly outlasted their usefulness. He was especially worried for Rogue. It was the striking similarity between them that drew him too her. Something in his soul cried out to her. To her uncontrollable powers. To the overwhelming grief they caused. He knew what it was like. That's how he ended up here.

He hated hospitals. Sinister had done that. Remy had known he was crazy from the first time he met him. But he needed help. He didn't want to kill again, because of his powers. He wanted them gone. He wanted to go back to the Guild. And Sinister was the only mutant specialist he had ever heard of.

So he had agreed to the surgery, and the fee Sinister would extract from him. He didn't know what would happen. But Sinister hadn't cured him, he had just removed an excess part of his gray matter that had caused his powers to go haywire. He could control it again, and they reacted to a lesser extent. Sometimes, secretly, he wished for his old powers, his strong powers, that he could blow things up without touching them. But it was dangerous. Deadly. And it sickened him. But at times it was simpler too. He wouldn't have had to work for Sinister. Maybe he could have gone back to New Orleans, to the Guild, and to Belladonna. But he would never know.

"That's not the worst of it," a woman said, slinking into the room. Her blonde hair was pulled severely back from her striking face, showing the hard glare she gave him. Her blue eyes flickered over Jean briefly, and an emotion, like envy came over her eyes. She stopped between them, her fingers running over Jean's face, tenderly. Something like sadness entered her hard features, then it was gone, replaced again by coldness.

"I'll see you in Hell," she whispered into the other girl's ear. Then she turned to Remy.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"No one of any importance to you, love," she said, leaning over him. She looked at his face, curiosity apparent. "So you're the Omega level. Huh."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" she said innocently. "What Sinister really did?"

"No." Remy said. "An' I don't care!" he said, explosively.

The woman laughed, throwing her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Sure you don't. I'm a telepath. I know all your thought," she said lowly, seductively, almost purring at him. "And I know what he did to you. He removed the part of your brain that centered your powers. The part that made you an Omega level mutant, but that also made you lose control," her voice changed, became loud, echoing as Jean's had earlier. "He didn't tell you that. But then, he used the DNA he exerted to create his virus, so he wouldn't tell you that, now would he?" Her laugh was chilling, like nails across a chalkboard.

"Who are you?"

"I just worked for Sinister. But there were better things for me. I had a higher purpose," she showed him the blood staining her white gloves. "That's the blood of your friends, your enemies," she said.

"What could my DNA do?" he asked.

"Your X-factor bonded to your DNA much like a virus, Gambit, rather than the normal way X-factor does. It went into your DNA and changed it when your powers first manifested, rather than being born with it as a part of your DNA, and the gene expressing itself upon first manifestation. That said, I wondered if it could go into a normal human and create mutations in them. Gambit, meet Emma Frost, mutated by your own DNA." Sinister said, placing a hand on the blonde woman's shoulder. She smiled up at him. "So that made me wonder, what could it do to mutants? My first experiments did not fair so well. Then I realized their genes weren't strong enough. And I knew of only two people whose genes were."

"So why am I here now?" he demanded.

"Your little…temper tantrum destroyed my viable DNA. So I extracted some more and inserted it into the genetically perfect Jean Grey."

"You are a monster!" Remy hissed.

"But, I also took the opportunity to surgically reattach that mutated center of your brain that made you Omega level. As well as something else," Sinister said, smiling. "You are now mine, Gambit, if you wish to control your powers."

"You did what?" Remy asked, eyebrow arching. He warred to keep the smile off his face.

"Are you stupid, I-"

Gambit felt for that center. That piece of him that had been missing. That piece of him that made him something more, something powerful. And he found that part of him, that part that wasn't genetic, that allowed him to access something that was greater than even he knew.

And his restraints exploded.


Magneto sat in his throne, staring out the window. Something was bothering him. Something wasn't right. He fingered the necklace, the cool stones gliding liquidly through his fingers. He wished Essexwould finish with Jean, so he could have her.He looked at the girl in front of him, utterly dazzling in her defiance and anger. Blood dripped from her nose, over her lips. He wanted to kiss those lips. And he was sickened by it.

He felt wrong. Tainted. Dirty. Something was poisoning him from the inside. The girl stared at him, her eyes like judgment. He wanted to be better in her eyes. He wanted redemption.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked her.

"No," she said, spitting blood from her mouth. She shifted, her arms tied behind her back. Hank had popped her shoulder back into its socket, but it was still painful.

"I wanted you, first. I wanted it to be you. You're so young, so strong, so apparently willful. But I know into your soul. I can see into your heart. And it's black. And weak. You were going to me my Lieutenant. Bringing in the New World. But something changed. Love changed." He fingered the necklace. And he knew that blackness was conquering him.

"You love me?" her face grew disgusted.

"No," he laughed, a brittle, bitter sound. "She loves him."

"Oookay, Riddler, I'm not Batman, you know," she said.

He smiled at her. How could he ever have thought her will was weak? Her spirit was indomitable. Her emerald eyes radiated heat. But the plans were bigger than his wishes. And he did wish to keep her. The others he would change, they would become his willful servants in the New World. But this one…he might just keep her whole, as she was.

His eyes were drawn to the necklace. Two emerald caught his eye, one dark and clear, as if it had been lab created. But it had not. The other was light and cloudy, like the more natural emeralds. Rogue's eyes. Jean's eyes. He smiled. They were the biggest stones on the necklace, the darker one snuggled against a blood red garnet, and the other mated with ruby. Other stones were forged into the white gold, but without an apparent pattern of frequency. It was from chaos that he would gain power. He wanted to put it around his neck, yearned for it as he had nothing else in his life. But it was not to be. Jean Grey would be the one to wear it. The one with the power to break those that would defy him. Then he smiled at Rogue. But not her.

Rogue glared at the old man sullenly. She worked the ropes that bound her hands, but a power inhibitor collar had been snapped around her neck. What could was invulnerability if you got your shoulder dislocated and your nose broken on the first day? She snarled silently and pulled at the ropes, biting back a cry when she stabbed her wrist with a fingernail.

She wondered what had happened to the others. Emma had caught her across the nose with her rifle when she tried to rush her. She needed to stop rushing people, she decided. Rogue had been seeing stars and little else, until Mystique looked up and winked at her. Then she quickly shifted into a teenage boy, stood up, and tried to attack Emma Frost as the others were. She was shoved into the cell with the rest. Then the collar had been snapped on Rogue and she had been led here. By Magneto. Who sat her down at his feet and then went to his throne to play with his necklace.

It was hideous. Big and gaudy. And the unevenness and asymmetrical placements of the jewels bothered her. Heckled her, she'd go so far to say. Made the hair on the back of her neck rise. As did Magneto's eyes. They were odd. Milky and far away. There were moment of brief lucidity in them, as he looked at her, but they were gone far too soon, and he was back to fondling his precious little necklace.

The ropes broke suddenly, wrenching her shoulder viciously. She rubbed her wrists, squirming a bit as she had been so not to draw attention to herself. She scooted herself slowly closer to Magneto's legs, as he was looking out the window and not at her. He sighed, placing his chin in his hand and letting the necklace dangle between his fingers.

Rogue decided that her plan of no longer rushing people would have to be implemented when she had more time to decide another plan of action, and rose to her feet, clashing her fists together and bringing them into Magneto's face. She chopped him in the neck, brought her combat boot up to his groin, turned, and ran for all she was worth.

She didn't get far. The change in magnetic fields caused her to rise off the ground slightly, static running down her arms and through her hair. He turned her with a casual flick of his hand, and she saw that his face was changed. Different. Blank.

And suddenly, she knew that it was no longer Magneto she was facing. It was someone far more dangerous.

"Pro…professor?"


So we have some answers now:

Emma Frost works for Sinister and was created using DNA he extracted from Gambit's Omega Mutant brain center that Sinister had been using against Gambit, which has now be reinserted into Gambit's brain. He took out more DNA, remade his virus, and infected Jean with it, to infect all the humans of the world. Magneto is being controlled by the Professor, the same Professor that called both Emma Frost (who works for SInister, remember) and Mystique (who works for Magneto buthas now seemingly switched sides)to help the X-men...the question is why?

Sorry to keep ya'll waiting for so long...I had midterms this last week and it's been absolutely dreadful. This week is Spring Break, so I probably won't be updating till after then, however, I promise it will all be cleared up shortly...Till then, stay tuned!