A New Beginning
The Gathering of the ChosenThe rosy beginnings of dawn stretched forward in the eastern sky. Though the temperature had been a comfortable 65°F overnight, the day promised temperatures over a hundred. Finally, the sun breached the horizon, spreading the morning light over the desert plain. To the north of the plain was sand dunes further than the eye could see. Far to the south was grassland, and to the east and west was endless desert. In the middle of this plain stood a lonely, white mountain. On top of that mountain stood two people, bathed in the morning light.
The woman looked down to her hands. In her right was a sword of beautiful craftsmanship with a green jewel at the tip of the hilt. There was some kind of writing on the blade, as well as an odd symbol. The blade itself was nearly two feet long, and only two inches wide. She looked to her right to see the man standing next to her have a sword as well. It, though, was more similar to a katana, only longer. Instead of having a green jewel, there was a blue gem at the tip of its hilt. It was only then that she looked to her feet, and let out a cry of surprise muffled by her own hand.
She was standing on a giant mountain of skulls. At first she believed them to be human. But, on closer inspection, she found that none of them were human. Many were human-like, some seemed vaguely familiar, and still others looked as if they were grotesque mistakes of Dr. Moreau. Peering over the edge, see saw her teammates, or rather the essences of her teammates. She could see Bobby, Hank, Logan, Ororo, Jean, Rogue, Kitty, and all of the others. There was something different about them, though. They all seemed stronger in a way.
Standing up, she felt a chill sweep over her entire body, as if a lifeless hand had crawled up her spine, and down all her nerves. And suddenly, she felt a great fear wash over her. Without any warning, day became as night, and before her a great chasm opened. And from that black abyss came something eviler than evil, darker than dark. Its very presence turned the air and land vile and wicked. The great shadow loomed above her, seemingly determining whether she was a worthwhile opponent. Then, letting out a great howl that froze the hearts of the living, the shadow fell upon her, devouring her very soul.
Betsy Braddock sat up suddenly, waking from her nightmare. Her sheets were soaked through with sweat, a reminder of the dream she just had. It was the fifth time in two weeks that she had that dream. Normally, the dream would not bother her, but this one seemed so real. And, it wasn't just that. For the last nine months, whenever she had a recurring dream, it seemingly came true. It was as if she were a prophet. It had happened just before Logan and Jean announced their engagement. It had happened again when Kitty Pryde had returned to the X-Men, now an M.D. It had also happened when Peter Rasputin, Colossus, had seemingly been resurrected. She had known, somehow, that he would be wandering the Yukon River just north of the Arctic Circle.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself. She looked to the clock on her nightstand. It was early, only after 2:30. Deciding she needed something to drink, she put on a pair of sweat pants and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, she was surprised to find the light was on. Someone was leaning half way into the fridge, trying to get to something.
"Whatcha doin' up, darlin'," the person asked.
"I had another dream, Logan."
"Hmph," he said, looking slightly up at her. "The same one," he asked, turning back and almost immediately finding what he was looking for: a jar of mustard.
"Yes. It was the same one. Only this time, you all seemed different. It was almost as if all of you were stronger somehow," she said, sitting down across from him. He was making a very large turkey and ham sandwich. She took a piece of meat, and began to nibble on it, taking great pleasure in seeing him scowl and grunt at her.
"You know," she said, "I've been talking to Peter about what he remembers while he was dead. It turns out he has about the same memory that I do."
"Whaddaya mean, darlin'?"
"Our memories are almost identical. We were both kneeling before someone seated on a throne. He said the same thing to each of us, that we would be needed. But the only real difference is that I saw wings. Not like Warren's, but like a giant bat's. Peter said he saw glowing blue eyes." She got up, and got herself a glass of water. "'Night. I'll see you in the morning."
"'Night, Bets."
As Betsy was walking to her room, she began to think of everything that had happened since she had been found by Storm in Africa. She had awakened up in the med-lab, with an IV stuck in her arm. She had pulled it out, and tried to stand, but was too weak. She'd fallen face first on the floor. Almost immediately afterwards, Hank had appeared, apparently summoned by an alarm she didn't hear. He explained to her that she had been dead for well over two years. He had told her that her body was still rebuilding itself. They had checked her grave, and found that although the earth and the coffin were untouched, there was no body. After spending several more days in the bed, Hank had subjected her to a barrage of medical tests. She still had the mark of the Crimson Dawn, and still had cybernetic eyes.
She rejoined the team, and after awhile, became involved with Warren again. Not long afterwards, Celeste McMillan had arrived at the mansion. Her father, William McMillan, had been the founder of a Sydney based corporation that had been working with the governments of the U.S., Australia, and Great Britain to create an armored suit that was biologically based. They had been the top researchers in the project, and actually had a working prototype. All their work was destroyed, though. Terrorists infiltrated the building they had been doing research, and held them hostage in order to get the prototype.
Sydney, Australia, Two Years Ago
Her father was against the wall; she could see him looking at the man standing over him. A gun was pointed at his head, but she could see his eyes didn't hold fear, but contempt. "Do you really think you're going to get the prototype by threatening me," he asked, never taking his eyes off the leader's.
"I had hoped so," the leader said, a cultured voice betraying his background. "But seeing as how it has not worked, I am beginning to doubt the original plan we had." The masked man crossed his arms, and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe this will help." With that, the leader took out his sidearm and shot him in the knee, causing a scream to escape from his lips.
Through clenched teeth, William said, "I have two ex-wives. You'll have to do better than that."
"You are much tougher than I thought you would be, Mr. McMillan," the man said, sitting on the counter facing the CEO. "But I wonder if your daughter is so tough?" He motioned at his nearest comrade, who took Celeste by the shoulder, and leaned her handcuffed form over the counter. Placing his gun at the back of her head, the leader said, "You have such a beautiful daughter, Mr. McMillan. It would be a shame to see her pretty little head blown all over this room."
"You wouldn't dare," his voice betraying his fear.
"I am giving you a choice, Mr. McMillan. Give me the prototype, or I take your daughter's life."
"Daddy, don't," Celeste said. Her eyes shut as her father pointed out the hidden alcove where the prototype was hidden. No matter how this ended, she knew that they would be killed. Now, as the leader opened recess, she looked for her opportunity. No matter how much they knew about her family, she was sure that no one knew about this. As if knowing her thoughts, the man holding her pressed his gun tighter to her head, the pain awaking her senses.
"How do I put it on, and how is it activated," the leader asked. He had opened a small metal case, with six metal bands.
"Place the largest ones on your thighs, the medium sized ones on your upper arms, and the smallest on your wrists. Press the button on the left wristband to activate it." They watched as the man did as William instructed, and activated the machine. Before anyone could blink, he was covered in metal from head to toe, trillions of nanobots acting as one.
"This is incredible," the leader said. "I can feel the strength, I can see in the entire spectrum."
"Will you now leave my daughter and me alone," William asked, holding his knee.
"No, I don't think so," the man said. He raised his pistol and shot him in the eye, blood and gray matter splattering on the wall behind him.
"DADDY!" Celeste struggled away from her captor, and kneeled beside her father. "No, no, it can't be," she whispered, rocking on her knees beside him. She looked up at the leader, her eyes teary, and full of rage. "You," she said, her voice dripping poison. "You killed my father."
"Yes, and though I must admit I am struck by your beauty, it is your turn now." He aimed the gun at her head.
"I don't think so," she said menacingly. As she spoke, a soft blue glow emanated from her body. "Try to kill me now." He pulled the trigger, the bullet tearing her head in two. But, there was no blood, only a brown, almost putty-like substance. As the leader watched, what had once been her head shrunk, and disappeared into her body, leaving her headless. Her voice then sounded from her abdomen. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Her face appeared just below her breasts, smiling dangerously. The face became a head, which grew outward, held in place by a long pedicel. "This is a secret that none knew, save my father, and a few close friends," she said, her pedicelled head moving down her leg, and absorbing into her foot. "Let's have some fun," she said, sadistically, her head reappearing above her shoulders. Suddenly, spikes appeared on her torso, one for each terrorist. Each raced into the midsection of the intended target, except the leader. The gel-like appendage hit him in the chest, pinning him violently against the wall.
"Damn it," he yelled, trying the get the gloppy stuff off of his chest. "You fucking mutie cunt," he swore. "What the fuck is this?!" He continued trying to swipe away the browinish, gelatinous goo covering him, but it kept re-growing.
"You are now the only other person that knows I'm a mutant," she said, the stem from her body to his shortening as she closed in on him. "I don't think I can let you know live, now."
"And I don't think I can let you live, dear," he replied menacingly. He raised his hand, where there was now a small cylinder, with a red button on top. "Surprise!"
The bomb destroyed the entire building. Rescue workers would later find only one survivor of the explosion: Celeste. She had been blown over fifty feet away, near the bank on the corner of the street. As her transformed body landed, she made a large, brownish puddle. Semiconscious from the explosion and the fall, he body glowed softly, reversing the transformation, just before she passed out. They found no trace of the leader's body, which was thought to have been vaporized by the explosioni. Celeste, though, knew better. He had been wearing the suit when the building blew. He was out there, somewhere.
Not long afterwards, Professor Xavier contacted her, and invited her to the mansion. That was a little over two years ago, Betsy thought. She passed Celeste's room, who had taken on the name of Shift. Then, of course, was Jean and Scott's divorce.
It seemed that Scott and Warren had been cheating on Jean and her. It had been going on for some time, though neither knew. In the end, Jean and Betsy confronted them. They had narrowly missed getting skinned alive by Wolverine, and escaped only by luck. Scott had then filed for divorce, and, once all the proceedings were finished, left with Warren for parts unknown.
Since that time, Kitty had come back from the school she was attending, the University of Michigan, and Peter, just like Betsy, had mysteriously come back to life. In time, she had gotten as close to Logan as both Jubilee and Kitty were, though he viewed her more as a sister. And during that same time, Logan and Jean had gotten together.
"And how they got together," she quietly exclaimed to herself. Everyone knew about the two of them being together after Jean's powers had unexpectedly risen in magnitude. She was just beginning to become accustomed to her heightened powers when everyone learned about them. In a moment of ecstasy, she had accidentally broadcast her thoughts at the time to everyone in a one-mile radius. The result was an instantaneous orgasm felt by everyone. The next morning, because not everyone could use the residential laundry room, most of the X-Men had to use the ones used by the students.
Betsy put her glass of water on her nightstand, and tucked herself into bed. She thought of Jean and Logan's impending marriage later in the day. And with that, she fell back asleep.
Two weeks laterLogan's jeep came up the driveway with him in the driver's seat and Jean sitting next to him. They had just gotten back from their honeymoon. Because they had not been able to decide on a single destination, they had spent the first week camping in the Rockies, and the second at a resort in the Virgin Islands. They stepped out of the jeep, and began to unload the luggage. Hank came out of the mansion to greet them.
"Salutations, friend Logan. How was your trip," he asked, as he began to help them unload the jeep.
"Alright, Hank. But, I had ta keep on sayin' I had pins in me ta get past th' security."
"You should have seen the beaches, Henry. They were beautiful," Jean said, taking a bag out of the back.
"What the flamin' hell," Logan exclaimed. He picked up a scent off of Hank; an old one that he hadn't smelled in a long time. "What're they doin' here, Hank? They ain't got a bit o' sense between the both o' them." And with that, he ran into the mansion, clearly very angry.
"My stars and garters," Hank said, bounding after Logan.
"Henry, what's wrong," Jean asked, following him.
"Scott and Warren returned yesterday morning."
Hank and Jean came upon Logan, his claws unsheathed, trying to get to Warren and Scott. Holding him back was Celeste, who had wrapped herself around his legs and cemented herself to the floor. Peter was holding back Scott and Warren, preventing them from hurting themselves. As they watched, Logan cut himself from Celeste, and made a little headway before she was able to grab him again. In doing this, he was inching forward, already almost halfway to where Peter was holding back the other two.
"Logan," Jean said, "don't hurt him. He may have hurt me, but that was a long time ago. Besides, I've moved on to better things." She put her hand on his shoulder and added, "Please?"
He sheathed his claws, and relaxed. After Celeste let him go, he left the mansion, and went into the woods, taking his rage out on the trees. After Logan was out of earshot, Scott strode carefully over to Jean. "Thanks," he said.
She turned around with a look so cold that it could have frozen the sun. "I didn't do it for you, Scott," she said, pinning him against the wall five feet above the floor. "I didn't want blood on the new carpet." And with that, she walked away. Reaching her room, she suddenly let him down.
A few days passed without incident. Scott and Warren were staying away from Jean, Betsy, and especially Logan. Slowly, everything began to be almost the same as it had been before they had both left. Though Jean and Betsy still did not like them, it had gotten to the point that they could at least remain in the same room. Logan had begun to speak to them, though only when needed.
Three weeks after the return of Cyclops and Archangel, Professor Xavier announced that someone would be coming to the mansion for a while, and might, in the end, join the team. Storm had apparently been to see him several times, and had reported that he would be coming within a week. Though Xavier had been willing to pay for an airplane ticket, he had chosen to drive.
"What's his name," Rogue asked.
"Jake Ayers, and he's from Michigan. Instead of flying here, he decided to drive. Apparently he has not had the best experiences with airlines," Ororo answered.
Two days later, Jake called the mansion, and informed the Professor that he would not be arriving until nearly six in the evening. Hearing this, the Professor told him that they would just be sitting down to dinner, and that he would be delighted if he would join them. Calling to Lucas, who was going to cook, he told him that they needed an extra place at the table.
Bishop had forced Bobby and Jubilee to help him in making dinner. They kept grumbling about him being a tyrant in the kitchen. "Do this, do that, he says," Jubilee complained as she was mashing potatoes. "Why do we have to do all this work?"
"Because yesterday y'all got Spanish food for us," answered Rogue, walking into the kitchen.
"What's wrong with that," Bobby asked, a little too innocently.
"Nothing, 'cept that you got us all octopus in its own ink, and a side order of one-eyed, foot-long larva. The only ones that were able ta eat anything were you two, and you had fish. Ah ain't about ta go through that again. Ah nearly threw-up, an' poor Jean did. She nailed Hank right in the chest, and it took him the rest of the day to get it out of his fur. An' he still smells like it. That's why you were cleaning the wall yesterday, and that's why you're helpin' ta cook today." With that, she stormed out of the kitchen, going to simmer in her own juices.
"Ya know, we were really lucky Wolvie didn't get mad at us," Jubilee said, looking at Bobby.
"Yeah," he said. "You know, maybe we did go a little too far this time, you know?"
They looked at each other with pensive expressions. After a moment, they both said, "Nah", and went back to mashing potatoes.
Betsy was walking towards the dining room for dinner, when, as she walked past the front door, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she called, before Jubilee could rush to answer it. Opening the door, she heard a loud "Oh, man" from the dining room. Before her was a man of a little over twenty in a wheelchair. He had very broad shoulders, almost as broad as Logan's, and dark, thick hair that came just past his ears. He had light stubble across his handsome face, and an earring in his left ear. But Betsy didn't notice any of these things. All she noticed was his eyes.
Jake rang the doorbell, hoping he wouldn't have to wait very long. To his surprise, someone came to the door almost immediately. Standing in front of him was a beautiful Eurasian woman. She had long purple hair and an incredible body. She had a red tattoo over her left eye shaped almost like a knife. But all of these things, he did not notice. He only noticed her eyes.
It was as if time stood still. However long they were there, looking into each other's eyes, neither would ever be able to tell. But, had it not been for Remy's interruption, they could have been staring into each other's souls forever. "Dis be him, no Chere," he asked her.
He was about to ask her again when she answered. "Yeah," said, slowly looking up. "Yes, this is Jake."
"Yeah," Jake said, looking to the Cajun reluctantly, "I'm . . . ah . . . I'm Jake Ayers."