The Past. Ascension
2003: The Sphinx, Egypt
They staggered out of the rubble, choking and gagging on the hot dust swirling around them, dumbing their senses and leaving them even more weakened. The steady beating of helicopter blades above signaled the presence of SHIELD, ever watchful as it was.
The Sphinx was gone. Apocalypse had seen to that. He'd nearly brought it down around their ears before Rogue had managed to seal him away. They'd been lucky, as they'd barely made it out before the entire thing had collapsed. As it was, they'd won.
Hadn't they?
As the rumble settled, the helicopter set down, blades still whirling. A lone man stepped out, marked distinctly by the patch over his eye. He alone waited the approaching victors, although he had no way of knowing what this victory had cost them.
Wolverine was the first to clear the dust, his face grim. He was not alone, however, as he supported a smaller figure, her two-toned hair damp with grime and sweat. Rogue limped along, her face drawn in pain as she put weight on her hurt leg. Slightly behind them came a disheveled youth, Cyclops. His uniform was torn, and he seemed exhausted, but he was otherwise uninjured. He looked up as they approached the chopper, his expression unreadable beneath the visor. The last of the group came into sight then, his blue fur bedraggled and matted in places. But it was not the young teleporter that drew Fury's attention. Instead, it was the sad bundle in his arms. Red hair and blue skin was visible from the distance. He trudged along desolately, clinging to the prone form of the woman in his arms. His mother. He could tell from the grief stricken expression upon the young man's face. Mystique was dead.
The X-Men had defeated Apocalypse. They had saved the world.
But they had lost a good deal in the process. The Horsemen were dead. And Apocalypse had escaped.
–
2/6
End of History: Alpha
ChaosCat
–
The Present.
2009: Bayville, Westchester County, New York.
As the opponent lunged at her, Katherine Pryde sidestepped, responding to the attack with a sweeping kick. It was blocked, forcing her to retreat a step once more to regain her balance. Scowling, the slender young woman narrowed her eyes. Her back against the cold brick wall, she was quickly running out of options. The shattered cityscape was deserted, leaving only yawning shadows and dark corners. Neither of which were any use to her at the moment. She was fighting this battle on her own.
Instead of retreating from the approaching assailant, Pryde rushed forward, blocking a punch that might have knocked her over had it been landed, and retaliating with one of her own. Executing a clean leg sweep, she knocked her opponent clear off his feet, the surprise evident in his eyes. He hit the ground hard.
But she wasn't done yet. The slight of her sprawled adversary brought forth a crashing surge of rage she could not quell. With a wordless cry, she lashed out, her booted foot connecting with the side of his head.
And again she kicked him, the dull thunk as her foot struck home beating out an unconscious rhythm. It was only a matter of time before he was no longer moving. It was only then, when she was sure he was dead, that she stopped, panting softly from the exertion.
She almost didn't hear the sound of another approaching behind her until it was too late. In truth, she turned just as the pike came whistling down. Her intangibility saved her from injury in this instance and the pike sailed harmlessly through her weightless form to strike the shattered asphalt at her feet. Kitty reacted instantly, adjusting the density of her body accordingly to execute a flawless roundhouse kick, which unbalanced her armed attacker. He stumbled back, hitting the remnants of the wall that could have once been part of a residential complex. The pike fell to the ground.
Even though he wasn't speaking, she could hear his voice.
Hey pretty Kitty. How you doing?
It was infuriating, hearing those words. Once a sign of affection, that was true no longer. How dare he say that to her! How dare he call her that! Confident of victory and filled with fury, Kitty strode forward, her gaze fixed upon the opponent before her.
The attacker caught his balance and surged forward, lashing out. Kitty blocked the attacks, phasing through those that she couldn't. She scored a few hits of her own in there, yet nothing enough to cripple her opponent, at least not yet.
"Terminate Session."
With those words spoken, the world around her melted. The shattered city streets and crumbling buildings merging into smooth, gleaming metal. The flesh and blood opponents were not replaced with robotic counterparts, faceless inhuman objects. Stripped of their holographic cloaking, the androids were nothing more than expensive toys. One of those expensive toys was lying broken at her feet.
Kitty paused, panting lightly from the exertion of the fight. Slowly the rage drained from her, leaving her empty. And anxious. Refusing to look at the sparking remains of the android she'd destroyed, half afraid she'd still see his face there, she turned around.
Why had the simulation stopped? A few yard away in the cavernous metal room, she caught a glimpse of her supposed partner for this exercise, twirling his bo staff idly. Largely ignoring him, Kitty turned her gaze toward the mirrored glass of the control room, scowling.
"What's going on?"
"Je ne sais pas."
Kitty didn't bother turning to look at her grinning comrade. The slender Arcadian was no doubt leaning against his staff, looking cocky and suave, as only he seemed to be able to pull off so well. She'd gotten used to his charm long ago, although even she had to admit that he was undeniably attractive when he wanted to be. That would be most of the time there was a female present. He was Gambit, it was to be expected.
"Cyclops?" Her voice conveyed most of the annoyance she was feeling.
"Session's over." The static-filled voice came over the Danger Room intercom. His stiff tone of voice did not invite argument.
"What?"
"We'll reconvene this afternoon at 1400 hours."
Kitty scowled. Their leader never cut a session short. Not after all the lectures about the importance of survival training. Not after making them get up at 5 AM every morning to train. They'd only been in the Danger Room for twenty minutes and now he was calling it off? Something was up.
However, when she tried to hail their fearless leader in the control room again, there was no response. Frowning, Kitty turned toward the exit. He didn't want to talk to her? Fine. Behind her, she heard her companion chuckle before following her.
"Somebody be in a bad mood today, oui?"
"Shut up, Gambit."
He slung an arm around her shoulder in a comradely fashion, smirking suggestively all the while. It was an expression she had grown accustomed to.
"Maybe I can cheer you up then?"
"You think you're that lucky?." Kitty smiled slightly, the tension slowly draining out of her.
"Gambit? P'tite, Lady Luck's got a soft spot for this Cajun. How else you think I ended up here?"
***
Scott Summers sat in the control tower of the training facility known as the Danger Room. He drummed his fingers against an empty space in the control panel; looking over the read-outs the computer was showing him. He'd been watching the training session carefully as the two had been going through the exercise.
This had been one that Kitty had set up herself, and Scott cursed himself for not looking it over before letting her run it. Shadowcat had almost lost herself out there; he'd seen it before. She'd been stressed lately, not that he blamed her. They'd all been stressed lately, with the rumors of new Sentinel factories and Apocalypse's cult popping up everywhere. Scott let out a heavy sigh, glancing once again at the computer screen. The holographic imaging was in excellent form; the robots had looked most realistic. Perhaps, he mused, they were doing too well, as he knew that was the source of Kitty's wrath.
Scott tapped a few keys at the control panel, causing the image she'd chosen to mask the robots to come up on the screen. His frown deepened, lines creasing his brow from the expression. It made him look much older than his 25 years. They'd all aged, hadn't they? Grown and matured. Some quicker than others. Some far too quickly.
Kitty had chosen this program specifically this morning. It didn't sit well with Scott, yet he knew she had needed to do it. To prove to herself that she could eliminate Him if she had to. To prove she was capable of it. They knew the answer to that now, didn't they? Shadowcat had torn apart those two drones without hesitating. Scott wasn't entirely sure whether that was a good thing of a bad thing. Image on the screen sneered back at him. It was an expression Scott knew well from this particular man. He'd seen in plenty during their years at Bayville High together, usually accompanied by that contempt-filled uttering of his name. No, he had never gotten along with this particular mutant, but that didn't mean he was particularly pleased about his fate.
Alone in the control booth, Scott Summers leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. His expression was often hard to read, due largely to the ruby-lens visor his mutation forced him to wear. He viewed this as an advantage most of the time, as it prevented his enemy from reading his expression to anticipate his moves. Now, however, with his lips twisted into that deep frown, it was obvious what he was thinking about.
The X-Men.
True, Cyclops led them. And he did so alone. He had for nearly a year now, since they had first re-formed. It wasn't an easy task. Nor was it one that he had ever asked for, or even wanted. Yet he went on, because sometimes you had no choice. You did what you had to do. Scott was a born leader, and he would do as he felt he must. No, it definitely wasn't easy.
Especially with the team as it was. They were a splintered group. Sometimes, Scott felt as if he were holding them together through sheer force of will. But he did it. He had to. Scott owed it to the Professor. To Her. To keep them together through this. Keep them alive.
Life hadn't been easy for the X-Men after Xavier had died. First they had been hailed as heroes. But that didn't last. None of them really expected it to. They had all hoped that would be the case, waiting for the dam to break with fingers crossed.
It had broken all right.
The Mutant Registration Act had been passed three years ago, largely due to the help of one Senator Kelly. Kelly's platform had been simple. Mutants were dangerous. Just look at Apocalypse, for example. Did people really want something like that to happen again? Of course not. Protect the children, Kelly proclaimed. Pass the MRA. You won't regret it.
Magneto had been right, even if he'd never lived to see it.
It was then that the true horror began. The government had begun testing for the X-Factor gene. It could be revealed with nothing more than a simple blood test whether an individual was a mutant or not. When a mutant was discovered, that poor individual was sent off to one of the internment camps. "For his or her own good" the good Senator would have them believe. What was left unsaid, however, was that they never returned.
When the dreaded En Sabah Nur had re-emerged, the fears of humanity were realized. Of course, it was the MRA that caused so many ostracized and outcast mutants to join his side. He offered them what the wanted – Freedom. Power. All that came at a price, however. Once you went to the dark Citadel, you never left. Apocalypse owned you completely.
Cyclops and his X-Men faced a battle on two fronts: one against the humans that hated and feared them and the other against the Apocalypse, who wanted to topple the existing government for a totalitarian one of his own. The ancient mutant had already crippled several military installations over the last two years. Many wondered where he'd strike next.
Officially, the X-Men had disbanded nearly three years ago, when Cyclops had left them the first time. He'd been too wrapped in his own sorrow and mourning to see what was in front of him. Now, the X-Men remained underground, only striking when they could do so without being discovered. The risk was too great. Apocalypse would crush them if he could.
Between a rock and a hard place.
An apt analogy for where they now stood. Damned if either side won, from the look of things but unable to do much about it. It was a place that Scott knew well from his times with the X-Men. Things were never easy.
As if to illustrate his point, something lit up on the control board, the flashing red light was accompanied by an insistent beeping noise. He turned toward it, frowning again. He knew what that meant. There was a communications transmission coming in downstairs. And for that, there would be only one source.
Two days ago, a small team had been dispatched on a surveillance operation to confirm or deny the rumor of a Sentinel factory somewhere in Nevada. They weren't due back for another two days at least. The blinking light meant something, somewhere had gone wrong.
With a muffled curse, Scott Summers rose from his chair, hurrying toward the source of the problem.
-
2009: Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico.
The gathered followers fell silent as the chamber doors swung open, revealing the feared figure within. Apocalypse stood in the threshold, basking in the reverence of his elite. The inner circle stood waiting.
The gaunt figure upon the dais was not as impressive as he had once been. The handful of years since his initial defeat at the hands of mere children had taken their toll upon him. Wrinkles lined his previously smooth skin; his bones were brittle. Yet he had survived, gathered followers, and again rebuilt his legacy. This time there seemed little in his way. The X-Men had been scattered. They no longer existed and few had even defected.
Still En Sabah Nur was not yet at full strength. Without his chamber of life, The Lazarus Mechanism, he could not rejuvenate himself beyond the frail, shriveled form he now wore. It would not be that way forever. Once the Lazarus Mechanism was completed, the Chamber of Life would be functional once more. He would be able to finally be done with this frail shape in favor of something stronger.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Apocalypse held out an arm and immediately Rogue moved to his side. Like a well-trained puppy, she obediently took his arm. Once again, she was startled by just how small he really was. How light his limb was. She had the sudden notion that it might crumble if she exerted too much pressure upon it. Appearances were deceiving. Apocalypse might have been physically frail, yet his mutant abilities still surpassed any of those gathered here by far. Once his body was replenished, he would be night unstoppable.
Until then, the old mutant entity in existence was nothing more than a delicate antique. His power reserves were dangerously low, even now. The creation and maintaining of the Horsemen was a rough task. However, he had managed well enough over the last two years since their creation, especially with the help of none other than Rogue – his human battery. She felt those cold fingers against her bare arm, even now siphoning some of her strength away. It was not nearly enough to cause her any physical discomfort, only to sustain him for a time.
She was bound to him, just as she had been the one to awaken him.
En Sabah Nur stood upon the dais above the assembled of his Elite Hounds, looking down upon them as an indulgent father might watch his children. The alien quality in his gaze unnerved her. She was grateful not to have to look at him as they did. No, instead she stood by his side, didn't she? The very picture of perfect obedience and utter devotion to a master who had given her what she thought she had most desired.
The ability to touch.
Even now, she stood beside him in a risqué outfit that bared not only her arms, but also a good deal of her stomach as well. The need for gloves was a thing of the past.
And in the process, he owned her soul.
She was bound to him as he was to her. After all, it has been Rogue who had awakened him; just as it had been she who had stopped him in that first battle. By using the powers of the Leech boy, she had been able to nullify his powers long enough for his plan to fail. Unfortunately, it had not been enough to stop him completely. Now, she worked for him. Whether she wished it so or not.
"It is time." His words ignited a movement among the crowd gathered. Breath held in anticipation was released as the Great Apocalypse spoke. Though there were no whispered voices for this speech. Such a thing would have untold consequences of the worst sort.
"The war is coming, and soon our final victory will be just beyond the horizon. Soon, my Chamber of Life shall be finished and with the might of his Horsemen, Apocalypse will show this world what it means to be afraid."
Horsemen.
The speech went on, igniting the almost religious fervor of the crowd, but Rogue latched onto that single word. The Horsemen weren't among the crowd gathered. Apocalypse never was without the four warriors he had created – twisting their minds and bodies to suit is own purposes. Rogue suppressed a shudder, her features carefully schooled to reveal nothing to the watching crowd. She'd like to think no one saw her, after spending so many years in the background. But that was not the case here. Eyes upon her from the Elite gathered, just waiting for her to screw up. They hated her. Loathed her for what she was. What she had been. Almost as much as she hated herself.
But that wasn't her primary concern. The Horsemen were gone. The meaning of their absence was clear. Apocalypse's War against Humanity was not coming. It had already begun.
-
2009: Bayville, Westchester County, New York
Kitty stood at the top of the hill, gazing down at the horribly neat little rows, each tidy and well kept. The breeze played with her short brown hair, ruffling it gently. Her scalp tingled from the sensation. Closing her eyes, Kitty left out a long sigh, then began making her way down the hill.
Each gray tombstone was unique from the others, if even just slightly. Their purpose not to mark yet another casualty of the struggle: but to mark the loss of a fallen friend. The craved names screamed at her in silent crescendo, each bringing forth a memory.
She walked among the dead, reaching out to brush trembling fingers along the roughly hewn surfaces as the names passed.
Ororo Munroe.
Fred Dukes.
Jubiliation Lee.
The names continued. As the small cemetery had grown over the years from the original memorial to Charles Xavier it had begun as. Kitty had paid a visit to each and every grave that stood in this place upon multiple occasions. But there was one that she had never failed to see on her visits.
She knew the path instinctively, the way burned into her memory over the last months she had walked it. Weaving her way through the lovingly crafted stones, her goal was in sight. She came to a halt before it, reading the name emblazoned there.
Piotr Rasputin.
He'd been her lover once, just after he'd joined them. But he'd been much more than that. Piotr had been her best friend when things had gone to hell. They'd been through so much together. After Cyclops left, the X-Men hadn't been able to go on; they'd been a team without a leader, each on their own. Yet Piotr had remained at her side.
Now he was gone.
Even a man of steel had weaknesses to be exploited.
The sudden breeze blew her bangs from her face. It was the only announcement of his presence. One moment she was alone and the next he stood beside her. Kitty didn't bother to look at him, her gaze firmly upon the stone. They acknowledged one another's existence perfectly without it.
Neither of them spoke for a time, but in the end it was he who broke the silence.
"You still mourn him?" There was no malice in the quickly spoken question.
"Do you still mourn your sister?" she responded in the same tone.
"Wanda," he breathed the name with almost palpable sorrow. "Always."
She nodded once, catching the fierce dedication in the utterance of that word. Despite their differences, Pietro Maximoff loved his sister, the often-tempestuous Scarlet Witch. After the death of Magneto, the two siblings had needed each other more than ever. They say a person never fully recovered from losing their twin. Like losing half of your soul. Kitty could believe that, considering her observations of Quicksilver.
"Todd mourns her too." He went on. "Although he'd never tell me."
"No, he wouldn't," Kitty replied, musing momentarily about Todd Tolansky.
It was no secret that he'd loved Wanda, and after her death by the Hounds of Apocalypse, he'd been utterly devastated. Yet he had stayed at the mansion. Toad had slowly become one of them, as had Pietro. A stray thought brought a ghost of a smile to her lips. Quicksilver was one of the X-Geeks, as he had always called them when they'd all been younger. Not all of the Brotherhood had shared the same 'fortune.' She sobered quickly as her thoughts grew darker. With maturity had come sacrifice.
Kitty looked up at him, studying his features. Pietro had changed drastically from their youth. His hair was the same silvery white, his light eyes still flashed with an arrogance born in him. It was no surprise, considering his heritage. He had grown taller, and should have looked gawky, considering his lean runner's build. But he wore the look well. She still found him handsome in that cold, detached way that had made him irresistible in high school, even despite the scar marring his cheek. It slashed from the ridge of his brow to the edge of his jaw. He'd been lucky not to lose that eye.
She'd been there when they'd found him. God, there had been so much blood, they'd all been afraid he wouldn't make it, wounded as he was. Three broken ribs, broken nose, and a shattered kneecap. Not to mention the deliberate scarring of his face. That was just the physical damage. Kitty suspected his wounds went far deeper than that, although he never spoke of it, no matter how much they'd begged him not to keep it all inside. All courtesy of random acts of violence against mutants. It sickened Kitty to think about.
Pietro still walked with a limp at times; so she knew his leg pained him. Yet he never complained. He was too proud to do such a thing. It just wasn't in his nature.
Catching her look, Pietro gave her a lazy grin and a wink. It was such a Pietro thing to do that Kitty couldn't help but smile. He was still proud and could be unbendingly stubborn at times. Some of his arrogance was gone though. Oh, he knew he was attractive and was quick to point out that little fact at any opportunity that presented itself. But he'd lost his cruelty somewhere along the way.
He turned back to Piotr's graze, brow furrowing in though. Kitty left him be, her own gaze returning to the stone as well.
"We all mourn something we've lost," she murmured softly.
Pietro gave her a curious look, but only nodded in response, his face solemn. Somehow, his hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined, they each mourned their loss, and each were grateful for the company of the other.
-
They were still standing there when the call from Cyclops reached them, demanding they return to the mansion immediately. They both heard the urgency in his tone and knew that this was not a drill. Something had happened. And whatever it was, it did not bode well for the X-Men.
---
Chapter Three: The Identity of the Horsemen reveled. Any theories on their identities? The whereabouts of the Wolverine's X-Men. And, of course, more questions. Why is Rogue with Apocalypse? Why is the Brotherhood with the X-Men? And who do you want to see in later chapters???
---
Thank you all for the reviews! They mean so much to me!
Pyro Tsunami -- Hey, you got it! The next story arc will feature Ray (among other, more blue and fuzzy X-Men), I do believe.
Romy Luver – Hey, anything can happen in this universe. Kurt will get his own story arc in the near future. He has his own problems to worry about. As for the others – well, hopefully you weren't too disappointed?
DemonRogue13 – Don't worry, the BOM will be featured in this series. Just as soon as I have time to tie them all in!
Rogue151 – This is definitely more of a AOA thing. Glad you liked the Rogue / Danvers scenes. It was especially fun to write. Don't worry, there will be plenty of Rogue later in the series! Good guess with the Jean situation!
IMpuLsIvE ThouGhTS -- Don't worry. You will see them!
Alwaysright1 – You are a girl after my own heart, you know! I do believe you will be getting what you want. . but shhhh. . .can't make promises for my muse just yet!
On a side note: Yes, I am still working on the 12th chapter of Had A Bad Day Again. I have not abandoned the fic, but instead, am having trouble with the beginning of the chapter. I am immensely dissatisfied with it, but hope to have something presentable for you folks to read soon!
