I don't own Marvel, since I'm obviously NOT Marvel...I do own Morgan, Umbra, Psyche, and Argus yutduhDuhduhDUH...this isn't anything new, I hope?
Here is my Shamless Advertisement: Please read my Pirates of the Caribbean story, intitled "Baladeers and Bucaneers." Yes, I do realize that "balladeers" is speeled wrong, but I also spelled it wrong on the title thingy. For the sake of conformity, I advertise it as such.
Thanks to all those of y'all who have left incouraging reviews! Merci!
Next Installment Commencing...Have fun!
Mystique dragged Morgan roughly out of the steel room while Magneto walked stately ahead. Morgan's struggles ceased when they entered the irregular stone hallway, which opened into a massive cavern that plunged into darkness. A metal causeway projected from the edge of the cliff and out into the darkness, coming to rest on a pillar of rock a good many feet away. Perched on this column of rock was a menacing machine, not the same one it had supported two years earlier, but one that seemed made for the same sinister purpose: to destroy human-kind.
"I can take her from here, my dear," Magneto said, raising a hand. Morgan was dragged forward by her manacles, making her stumble to her knees. The man continued on, either oblivious or uncaring as his captive slid across the floor on first her shins and then her stomach. She grunted in pain as she glanced over her shoulder, trying to gain some idea of where she was. Mystique stood at the entrance to a large metal door, arms akimbo and a cruel smirk plastered on her freakish face. But the shackles pulled her onward, forcing her head back around to face the frightening instrument in the center of the cavern.
Magneto halted, turning to face the girl sprawled at his feet. She sat up, smoky hair tumbling over her face as she tried to stand. Magneto's crooked smile widened as he watched her struggle to her feet, her front covered in dust from the floor. The steel was cold to her bare feet, the cuffs heavy and uncomfortable. But still she glared defiantly up at him, hazel eyes blazing. She glanced over his shoulder, a spasm of fear crossing her face. She had heard about this man's exploits from Wolverine, about his hidden laboratory by the sea…and it certainly wasn't shaping up to be a great place to be.
"What's that?" she asked, returning her gaze to the smiling man. Magneto raised a white eyebrow.
"That is the question of the hour," he said mockingly, dragged her forward again and up into the claws of the machine. "Please, don't stand on my account," he said, cruel glee lighting up his eyes. He flicked his finger casually, forcing Morgan down into the cool metal chair. "Psyche, Umbra," he said. Morgan looked at him in confusion. Muttering silly words, are we? She thought. Had the supervillain finally snapped?
Two shimmering figures materialized next to him, one the shadowy man who had sealed the defeat of the X-Men rescue team. Next to him stood a slickly woman with colorless hair and the pearly eyes of the blind, her long fingers tapping his arm in rapid succession. She glowed with a strange radiance that hurt Morgan's eyes at the same time that it dragged her gaze toward it. Although so dissimilar, something led the girl to believe they were related, if not siblings. The way the male supported the female with gentle practice and brotherly affection seemed to confirm that.
"Mimic, you will have met the twins already," Magneto said coolly. Umbra waved, smirking, but the one called Psyche did not move, her face passive. Morgan shook her head. "Oh, but you have. Umbra was the one who so soundly defeated your friends from the Institute; in a different form, Psyche coaxed from their grasp.
Suddenly the mental pressure returned, crushing Morgan's mind like the cliché cartoon weight. She cried out in pain, her body convulsing as she tried to fight back. A flicker of happiness crossed the pale, pitiless eyes of Psyche as the girl before her writhed in agony.
"Hello again, foolish child," the woman said, her mouth twitching in spiteful amusement. "Remember me?" The comforting aura that Jean's form had once carried had vanished, bringing only never-ending, excruciating pain.
"No! You were my friend!" a naïve portion of Morgan's mind cried as her mental form thrashed on the white ground.
"Friend? Child, I need no friends. I am Psyche!" the woman cried, her red haired form convulsing as it changed into the horrible face of the pale woman. Her colorless hair became white vipers, their sightless eyes striking blindly towards the helpless girl. Morgan tried to run, to crawl away from the fearsome image. She tried to force it away, but the snakes wrapped around her legs, dragging her ever back, Psyche's chanting voice echoing in her ears.
"Charles Xavier is dead!" proclaimed the giant head, leering at her. "When you forced him from your mind to PROTECT me, he perished! The old man is dead, and you are to blame!" The head swirled around Morgan, the snakes striking every unprotected portion of her body. "You're to blame! You!"
"NO!" Morgan shouted, pushing away with all of her strength.
Magneto and Umbra watched the two females' fight from the outside. Only Morgan's furious squirming and Psyche's slight smile indicated that anything was actually occurring. Magneto had formed a chair from the steel of the bridge and was lounging quietly, his long fingers pressed together in a peak as he watched the mental battle. Umbra stood, his bored eyes roaming the cavern. Under Magneto's observant eye, three things happened.
A mournful "no" escaped Morgan's lips.
Psyche's smile turned to a frown.
The cavern exploded.
Wolverine's keen ears picked up a soft "thump" of an explosion as the SR-71 circled New York City. He touched Cyclops's arm. "There," he said, pointing out into the past the Sound and out into the open ocean. They glided over Long Island and across the gleaming water.
"What did you see?" Storm asked, leaning back to look at Wolverine.
"I thought I heard…"
"There!" cried Iceman, pointing over Storm's shoulder and out into the darkness. "That little isle, right there!"
"Where?" Cyclops asked, switching the view from regular to thermal. A tiny outcropping of rocks rose from the ocean as the gray waves pounded it relentlessly. In silent agreement, the party prepared for an aquatic landing.
"Nestling to Motherbird, we have found the Lion's Den, repeat, we have found the Lion's Den!" Cyclops called into the two-way radio.
"Pardon, Mr. Scott?" returned the heavily accented voice of Karl, the X-Men's blue friend from Northern Europe.
Cyclops sighed. "Tell the Professor we've found Magneto's lair," he said gruffly as Rogue and Iceman stifled sniggers. He rounded on them. "This isn't a laughing…"
Storm placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Land the plane, Cyclops."
Morgan's last desperate attempt to free herself had worked; her cuffs had exploded violently, spewing shrapnel in every direction. Luckily, her instincts saved her from being speared in the gut; a ball of psychic energy forced the shards away from her and pelting towards her captors. Psyche screamed as a splinter pierced her pale arm; her brother became shadow, saving himself before reaching down to envelop his weeping sibling in smoky vapor. Magneto managed to halt the journey of most of the metal that sped his way; one piece escaped, burying itself deep in the steel of his chair. His cold gray eyes turned from that single piece and back towards the culprit, eyes blazing with fury.
The chair was empty, except for a single, spinning splinter of steel.
Magneto lowered his outstretched arm, the superheated chips of Morgan's bonds crashing into the abyss below. His head whipped for left to right, searching for the escaped prisoner. Turning angrily, he stalked towards the exit.
"Mystique, sound the alarm, our little bird has escaped!"