And so Kassandra flew her favorite unmarked stealth fighter dangerously low over the Montana border around the looming mountains of the Continental Divide. Once again a mutant would herald a battle coming, not as foreseen, but when and how she saw fit, like a thief in the night. They would not know of their moment of reckoning until they'd return to that violated sanctuary they called their Cathedral, and find her ready and waiting for them. And there it was. She circled round, firing upon where she was told their anti-aircraft artillery was, then landed. She choked back a sob, wiped her eyes, and willed herself to maintain adamantium resolve and emotional control as she marched right into that den of iniquity. Empty. But the lions would return. She drew her sword, held it point down, dropped to her right knee, and made the Sign of the Cross. "Heiliger Michael, bete für uns. Vater unser im Himmel, geheiligt werde dein Name. Dein Reich komme. Dein Wille geschehe, wie im Himmel, so auf Erden. Unser tägliches Brot gib uns heute."
She left time and saw the timelines of what horrors approached, intent on tangling with her. One in particular tore her heart. The one they'd call their false prophet.
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The mutant designated 143 could see in his mind, the only part of him that had any function left, a bright, transparent vision in the sanctuary, kneeling. "Und vergib uns unsere Schuld, wie auch wir vergeben unseren Schuldigern," she said.
This worried him. She was there, but somehow beyond the reach of his telepathic influence. He could only get one thought from her. Remarkable. Somehow she knew he'd try to probe her mind. She was now addressing him with not so much as a thought but a strong feeling.
"Mein armer Liebling, what have they done to you?"
Saliva dribbled from his perpetually gaping mouth. Nobody here had addressed him before, except with orders. Forget about compassion. But that was meaningless. Compassion would not help him do what was needed. And it was a rhetorical question anyway. The girl already knew. And what had been done to him was nothing quite like what they'd do if he didn't cooperate.
And here they came.
Zeitgeist stood up. She raised her voice and her sabre. "Und führe uns nicht in Versuchung, sondern erlöse uns von dem Bösen. Amen!"
"Your prayer will not help you. The prayers of the wicked are not heard."
"Feeling judgmental today, aren't we? And how do you know I'm one of the wicked?"
"You are part of a mutant plague that's infected the government. And you are to deliver the war of our apocalypse."
So be it. They had some use for her. Others had and would have similar ambitions for her. If a rider of war was what they wanted, that's exactly what they'd get.
"Prepare for your part, mutant, and gaze into my abyss."
"How philosophically egalitarian." said the wraith, as she instantaneously dodged a bolt of blue energy. "You mangle Nietzsche as badly as the Bible. And your cheesy attempts at mind control will not work."
"Nonetheless, you will surrender all you hold dear. Your answers. Your secrets-"
Zeitgeist glanced past the giant in the cartoonish mockeries of papal attire. Finally, it was clear why she couldn't get a timeline on this character. "They are not my own to surrender. Particularly to some holographic Jim Jones."
"Brethren, neutralize the mutant. But we need it alive. Inhuman creature, your claim to know Scripture, philosophy, and the human mind is laughably pathetic."
"Let's share a laugh, then. Reverend Stryker was least remotely interesting, but still just a spring without water, a mist driven by a storm. I'm almost disappointed, because I'd heard quite a bit about you. And then I discover that you, Your Unholiness, are not even real! Now can all of you please stop firing and put down your weapons? I'd like for us to handle this like homo sapiens.""You dare consider yourself human?" the hologram sneered.
"For once you got something right. Sure I'm human. My father, God rest his soul, was human. My brothers and sister are human. And God knit me in my human mother's womb. I just happen to have a human X-factor mutation and an all too human temper, which I will lose if you don't call off your dogs."
"Arrogant monster. You will suffer for your insolence."
"Yes, I will. But not how you think." The peaceful resolution that was meant to be would not happen. She'd prayed for God's will to be done. But the people claiming to fight in His name clearly had other plans. "And you'll only send your followers to their deaths if they try to kill me."
"A glorious martyrdom."
"No, a most undignified suicide."
"We cannot make this vermin cooperate. Brethren, exterminate it."
"Come on guys, you'd have a better chance of surviving if His Unholiness just served out some of his Kool-Aid."
"He who loses his life for my sake will save it."
"Jesus said many would come claiming to be Him, and warned against following them. Okay, guys, obviously you don't get it. I HAVE appealed to your alleged faith and your human reason. And now I have had ENOUGH!"
With time slowed, she could still dodge whatever they fired at her, but still allow them enough time to see what she was doing. Maybe learn that theirs was an exercise in futility.
"Ever read Deuteronomy 30:19?" she shouted. And with her adamantium sabre now whirling furiously, she stopped cutting their bullets out of the air or deflecting their bolts harmlessly away. Now she deflected everything right back at them.
"'CHOOSE LIFE THAT YOU MIGHT LIVE!" They kept going. That's right, verdammt. Their twisted parodies of priestly cassocks and vestments were reinforced with Kevlar, as their minds were with the twisted idea that true martyrs actually abandon hope and long for a violent demise. She could not afford to remain on the defensive.
"Gott, erbarme Dich unser," Zeitgeist prayed, and her sabre bit flesh. One man lost both his arms, his armor giving little resistance to her adamantium blade. The others surrounded her, pumping more bolts and bullets into the air. Even with time slowed, she had to use every muscle in her body to duck, dodge, parry, and slash. Two more fell. They weren't learning. She stopped time altogether. If she had to hack her way through this mess, the only humane thing to do then was to get it done quickly. In an instant, the ranks she cut down fell around her, spilling blood and limbs all over the floor.
She then flit over to the red-robed image. Its overlarge wrist guards were hooked up to all kinds of technology. Kassandra didn't want to be bothered to check which controlled the image inducer or the teleportation nets. It didn't matter. She severed all connections, then resumed a slow flow of time. There was no escaping now. And in the instant that the image of the nine-foot tall, three hundred year old cosmonaut flickered out, Kassandra saw all she needed- the reality behind the phantom, and the timeline she sought. It was a past full of pride and pain. And a present and future dominated by an understandable bit of post-traumatic stress mixed with a huge amount of paranoia, megalomania, and- ach, forget the psychology- one insanely bitter vendetta. Kassandra didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream.
Instead, the wraith held her sabre point to the 'Supreme Pontiff's' throat. Her eyes burned. "If I fly them to Butte right now, they might survive. Don't even THINK of disintegrating them with your desecrated hosts."
"You don't want to kill me. I hold the memories of one dear to you."
The glowering wraith pressed her point. "Should that impress me? I know all about you now. You hurt him and others dear to me. You had similar plans for me. I do take that very personally. And you have been plotting all kinds of mass murder. I DO want to kill you. But be thankful this is not about what I want.
"My Lord Himself said, 'Upon this rock I will build My Church, and the Gates of Hell will not prevail against it.' Your plot to bring it down was doomed to fail from the start. Rest assured, though. Your last chance for redemption will come soon. I do suggest you take it. Until then, it looks like you've got quite a mess to clean up before your next guests arrive."
With that, she disappeared, along with a couple of wounded to take to the hospital, under federal custody. The fact that she did what she must, that she tried to be honorable and humane and all that, and that it was all for a just cause did not ease her conscience one bit. She tied one last tourniquet and wiped the ghastly crimson mess off her sabre.
At St. James' Hospital, the doctors had taken charge of their new critical care patients. Kassandra specifically requested that they monitor their patients' signs for unusual electrical activity and to filter their blood for nanoprobes, hoping against odds that it would be enough to ensure their survival. Then the priest finished administering Anointing of the Sick, and Kassandra finally had some time for an important conversation.
"Hallo, Father. It's been one week since my last Confession. The two to whom you just gave Anointing? I'm responsible for that. What's more, there are eleven more that weren't as fortunate."
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It took a while for her to get a good signal, but she needed to make sure nobody but her own people would be tapping the line. She called Cyclops on his X-Link.
"Cyclops, it's Zeitgeist."
"Kassi?" He was surprised.
"I need to cut right to the chase. There is a reason why Worthington did not brief you about the Cult of Humanity."
Scott noted that Kassandra avoided calling this group a church. She continued. "It actually was a good thing Kurt had expected him to brief you on their encounters with them. Because I trusted that he wouldn't."
"What?"
"Espionage, mein Freund. This is classified information. Religious leaders are world leaders, too. And you didn't think an international plot to start a genocide by assassinating them would go unnoticed by anyone in my line of work, did you?"
"So why are you telling me now, after so many people-"
"-like so many of my agents, died? And Jubilee and Magma almost with them? You think this is easy for me, Scott? I knew there was a chance this would happen. I told them in no uncertain terms when I gave them their assignments that they would not likely make it. And they were all willing to take that chance. You would have done the same."
"And I would have gotten everyone else to help you."
"Yes, and gotten everyone else killed, which is why you could not know up until now. I know you've had your hands full enough in New York. But now I have a personal favor to ask of you in Montana."
"But-"
"Not another word! Listen!" Zeitgeist could not have him revealing on record that he was heading up there anyway. "Just so we're perfectly clear, this is NOT an X mission. I am ordering a raid on the Cathedral. I have scouted and softened their defenses a bit. And I disabled their teleportation nets, so they think they have no choice but to stick it out and fight. Now I need to lead a full cavalry charge to wipe them out before they've finished regrouping."
Scott grit his teeth. Kassandra was a nice kid, though she could get a bit intense, but who did she think she was, giving him orders?
"Trust me, Scott. You do not want to be responsible for this. They will show no mercy, but rather try to take what they deserve. Jean knows they have a powerful telepath under their sway, so trust nothing you see when you get here. But tell Logan to trust his nose. And bring everyone you can."
"But-"
"Yes, I'm concerned about what's come over Polaris lately, too. But she'll come through. I'll see you soon."
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