Author's Note: That was quick. Okay, chapter two, I have to warn you that the first half of the entire story is pretty much dialogue driven. Granted, I'll make it up for in the latter half, but still, those of you who want action with their tea, then you'll probably sleep through this. Doesn't mean you shouldn't review though:) Anyway, I decided to upload this up fast on account of my mom taking the laptop out of the country with her, and seeing as my PC is busted, odds are it's going to take some time before my next installment:(
Doza: Hey man, thanks for the rev. I'm gonna warn you off the bat that this is gonna take a lot of exposition before the thing goes full steam. He he, hope you stay for the ride.
Mad Rose: You got me there, the whole counselor thing was pretty much ripped off from my fave Buffy episode of all time, "The Body". It's pretty much my thumbs up to Whedon, since I try to put some of his touches on all my current work.
Previously on…
The Astonishing X-Men are a team of mutants, led by CYCLOPS and EMMA FROST, who fight to protect a world that has long feared and hated them. Their recent rise in popularity though, thanks in part to their recent ream-ups with the celebrity/superhero team Fantastic Four, as well as the trendy new lease on what people call "Mutant Culture", have made their lives all the more bearable. The resurrection of their long dead teammate COLOSSUS, has also improved their morale.
On the morning of September eleven, the world was horrified to witness the fall of the Two Towers, the result of two passenger airplanesgetting commandeered directly into them. The death toll was flew past the thousands. After recognizing that it was an act of terrorism, the American Government and her close allies, have decided to wage a war on Terror. This was four years ago. The War on Terror still rages on.
When an American brigade find themselves under heavy attack from Iraqi guerilla, one of them, CHRISTIAN LEWIS, suddenly begins to feel the thoughts and emotions of every one surrounding him. Unable to take the enormous strain, he sees a glimpse of four women covered in blood red burkas, right before uncontrollably releasing a psychic shockwave that kills everyone in a four hundred mile radius. No one has heard from him since. Telepaths from around the globe, including the gifted STEPFORD CUCKOOS, all felt the psychic spike that ended so many lives.They fear the world's possibly violent response when they find out that it was this tragedy was the result of a mutant losing control over his powers. In the meantime, a small squad of U.S. marines who were patrolling an abandoned hospital, which was already under American territory, find themselves face to face with a woman in a blood-red burka, the very same one that Christian saw before he overloaded. They do not survive the bloody encounter with the woman in the burka, who proves to be only one, and apparently weakest, of four…
Chapter 2: "Supporting Characters"
"We better leave, Scott." Emma whispered as the psychic tension from the news began to escalate. Shock. Confusion. Loss. Terror. Each and every one evident on the faces of the people as the news of the recent tragedy in Iraq finally began to sink in.
"Do you think…?" Scott turned to his lover, who, even with telepathic talents that once defeated a Phoenix, was clearly feeling the strain of countless cascading thoughts and emotions that came her way.
"Yes. My girls just confirmed it...we have an omega. Now if you don't mind, I'm getting a terrible headache."
"Come on, lets…" Scott grabbed Emma's hand and stopped to a halt just as he turned. There were two men in not too far a distance who immediately caught his attention. Both of them wearing black suits and matching sunglasses. "…are they looking at us?" Scott telepathically inquired. One of the things that propelled him to being the X-Men's team leader was because his instincts were almost always right on mark. And at that moment, his instincts were telling him that the day was about to get much more interesting.
"Scott. Left." Emma then noticed, prompting her lover to turn to the direction she had just specified. Another two men came; both of them just like the pair in the short distance. "They have scramblers." Emma bitterly noted, grimacing at the device that prevented telepaths from probing minds. Though thankfully enough, she had to admit that the static the scramblers they wore managed dampen the psychic tension around the area, making it much easier for Emma to shut the noise out. "The fact that they're wearing scramblers means that they meant to confront us." She then remarked, as she stood defiantly beside her husband. Emma never was one to be intimidated so easily. Scott took a deep breath for a second, as his eyes switched from the pair coming from their left and the one at front.
"Mr. Summers? Miss Frost?" one of them called, finally drawing a badge from his breast pocket. "Agent Nolan." He greeted. "CIA." Not too obvious. Granted, he seemed to look a little too young to be an agent. His hair was short and brown, a little like Scott's, only much better groomed. It wouldn't surprise much of anyone to hear, after seeing him, that he was every woman's, and a few men's desire, back in his days at the academy.
His partner, only a few years older, though seemingly looking much, much more; must have hated having been paired with someone who looked like a Greek god for a partner. Not that good looks carried over to performance. "Agent Cooper." He then greeted, flashing his badge as well. It was a little too quick an action, quite possibly because he didn't want anyone to scrutinize a photo taken years back, when his hairline hadn't receded and his eye bags didn't hang so low. But other than that, like his partner, he was in peak, physical condition.
"May we help you?" Emma asked, not at all shy of letting her impatience seep through her voice.
"We need to talk." Agent Nolan declared, taking a step back and gesturing at their black limousine, carelessly parked on by the sidewalk. "We know you're parked about six blocks away, and we're pretty sure that neither of you feel up for a long walk."
"…?" Emma narrowed her eyes as she felt the presence of somebody important behind the tinted windows. Someone extremely important. A woman.
"Is there anything we can help you with, sir?" Scott asked, keeping his end of the proceedings much more civil, even though his question still meant an initial refusal to concede to the agent's offer.
"Apparently so." Cooper responded. "We have a very big problem on our hands."
"That person inside." Emma noted, turning her attention to the more attractive of the two. "You have a telepath in there."
"…Yes. And she really needs to talk to you." Nolan responded. Emma furrowed her brows as she turned once again to the black car.
"It's about Iraq, isn't it?"
Male Dormitories/12:10
Mark Vasquez stretched his arms with a loud yawn as he got up from bed. One of the worst things to ever happen in school was to have only two classes for the entire day's duration, and endure nine long hours between the first and the second. Thank God for dormitories. With a soft sigh, he let his weary gaze fall on the empty bed, parallel his own. Someone else was using it now, but he already left for class when Mark was still asleep. It used to be where his best friend slept. "…" Mark rubbed the back of his head and got to his feet. The hair on his head had already grown, a little over half an inch from his usual shaven style. He knew that it wasn't as trendy as it used to be, but he preferred the comfort of not having to spend the entire morning working with gel and mousse.
"Mark?" came a soft, telepathic voice, right into his head.
"Hey, baby." He responded in kind, a sweet smile involuntarily crawling up his cheeks. He would be an idiot not to, since his girlfriend was one of the most beautiful women in campus. Well, one of three.
"I like it in your dreams." Mindee, one of the three talented Stepford girls, replied. Even though they draw upon a combined hive mind as the source of their formidable psychic abilities, Mindee has been finding herself more and more independent of her siblings.
"Maybe because it's only you in there." Mark answered. He was her reason why.
"Good answer." Mindee whispered,a little glad that Mark couldn't see her blushing like a cherry.
"Where are you?" he then inquired, as he got off the bed and began to pull on a pair of jeans.
"Cerebra .Miss Frost has us looking in one something." responded Mindee, referring to the omega level mutant that they were tracking.
"Don't you ever have class?"
"Dean's list. Unlimited cuts are a privilege."
"You read the teachers' minds, that's why you get straight A's. Admit it." Mark shambled towards his desk, where he grabbed a black jacket and put it on.
"Of course not!" Mindee protested, using her telepathy to give make him feel a little nudge on his shoulder.
"Ha ha, I'm kidding."
"So… you've slept through the whole morning?" Mindee then asked, the tone of her voice becoming much more somber.
"Why? Did I miss anything?" Mark asked, knowing Mindee well enough to realize that something wasn't right.
"…Something happened in the Middle East."
"Huh? Middle East? You mean, like, Iraq?"
"Yes. Iraq. We're investigating a psychic spike that happened about four hours ago."
"New mutant?"
"Apparently so. Unfortunately for everyone in about four hundred miles around this mutant, he or she caused a total, nervous shutdown .There are about a thousand people dead."
"Oh…shit. You're serious?"
"I'm in your brain, of course I'm serious."
"Wait, wait, so, everyone knows that it's a mutant who did this?"
"No. Everything's under wraps. And after Logan's little attempt at the president's life using Cerebra, all the important people have started wearing mind scramblers. We can't get any juicy bits from any of them."
"This should really set back world peace for about a couple more hundred years…"
"If we're lucky. It's going to be disastrous if they find out that it's a mutant who caused all this."
Dormitory hallway/12:15
Chris Del Rosario took a deep breath as he lifted his hand off of the doorknob. Words could not describe the discomfort of having to take the place of somebody a person loved deeply. Of a person that many loved dearly. Maybe that's why he never set foot in the room until the day's end. When he knew that Mark was either out with Mindee or already fast asleep. And maybe that's why he always made sure that his bed, the bed that Mark's best friend formerly occupied, was always kept tidy. Just for the illusion that no one else slept there. No one undeserving.
Unlike either Mark, or Mark's lost best friend, Chris didn't have a face he could wear proudly to school. Not that he was unattractive. He had an average frame for an eighteen year old Hispanic, and hair that was short and messy. It was just that he hid himself behind so eyeglasses and books, that no one ever noticed him. So much so that he didn't even need his mutant power of invisibility to disappear off the campus' face. All he needed to do was stand still and keep quiet.
"This is stupid." Chris muttered to himself as he turned away from the door and silently made his way down the empty hall. There was an open window at the very end, one that cast a soft, yellow glow on the corridor's end. It blurred the window frame. You could hear the faint sound of life beyond it. For a moment, a small shadow interrupted the ephemeral blanket, as the sound of fluttering wings echoed through. A feather fell. "…" Chris didn't pay attention to any of it as he turned the corner and headed for the stairwell.
Campus Grounds/12:16
The feather made no sound as it met the bright, green grass. It was four minutes before the next class would start, and most of the students were already on their way to their respective buildings. Those who didn't have class though, preferred to simply lounge about the extensive campus grounds. One such student was Sooraya Qadir, an Afghani student who has been through a lot of things that no person should ever suffer through. Yet even though she met darkness in the past, it did not succeed in quelling her strong heart. Just one of the things that made her special. But even still, no matter how much one would try, any mere resemblance to a source of grief could warrant undue pain. And the recent massacre in Iraq could be described as such. She moved like a shadow beneath the bright sun, due to the fact that she still preferred wearing a black burqa in school. She may have been better of re-thinking her attire, as she was bombarded with uncomfortable glances the entire morning. Cold eyes, that almost looked like an accusation.
"Don't mind them, Sooraya." Kitty whispered as she walked alongside the nervous Afghani. "It's just a phase. People don't know how to react to…moments like these."
"…perhaps it would have been better if I went on the field mission with the rest of my squad." Sooraya whispered; as she looked down to avoid making eye contact with the other students. Her squad of course, was the Hellions, a team of students who were under Miss Frost's tutelage. And even though they were not the most well-liked squad in campus, they more than made up for it with the sheer abilities that they masterfully wielded.
"Uh…they're handling a civilian case; I don't think it'll be much better if you were out in the open. At least in here…well, at least here people already know you." Kitty finally responded after a moment's thought.
"They look at me as if I am to blame."
"They're just…confused. It's like…well, they know it wasn't you Sooraya. I'm sure of it. You've been with us for more than a year now, and you've proven time and again that you're heart is in the right place. I've seen you in the field, Sooraya. Out of all of Miss Frost's Hellions, you're the one who was the most heart. Their emotional center. And I bet you that the rest of the kids noticed it too…"
"…" Sooraya felt a soft smile crack through her sadness at the thought of Kitty's words. Comfort. At least, for only a second.
"Bitch!" came another girl's voice. Both Sooraya and kitty turned to the source of the sound, their eyes widening in shock as they saw a massive beam of pink, concentrated energy headed their way. "Oh God." Without a second's hesitation, Kitty, reached out and grabbed Sooraya's hand. "Miss Pr- -" Sooraya did not finish her exclamation, as the pink flash consumed her vision.
New York/12:17
Pink. Aged for thirty years, grapes from Micronesia with a hint of chamomile. A middle-aged woman raised the glass to the level of her eye. "Wine?" she offered, watching intently as both Scott and Emma declined her offer. Even though she was already past forty, Lilah Graham was still a sight to behold. She had shoulder-length, golden hair that never seemed to move, and fantastic sapphire eyes that could pierce through one's soul. "It's really quite good." Lilah persisted. Emma leaned back and declined once more. "Comfortable limousine aside, I do hope you don't plan on wasting our time." She then remarked, crossing one leg over the other.
"Just being a good host, Miss Frost." Lilah defended, lowering her glass. "Oh, and you really don't have to take the time to thought-proof Mr. Summers' mind. I don't barge into people's heads unannounced. If there's something I know, it's that people cherish their privacy above all else." She then commented.
"If you weren't stretching your telepathy, then how did you feel mine?" Emma rebutted.
"Because I'm thought-proofing the entire car." Lilah replied. "That's why you felt me even though you and Mr. Summers were still outside. You never do know when anyone's listening in these days…"
"One of your agents told us that this was about the recent incident in Iraq." Scott then commented, hoping to get the dialogue going.
"Straight to the point, I see." Lilah responded, taking a sip from her glass before setting it down on the bar. "All right then. Miss Frost, Mr. Summers, I'm sure you know that psychics have been in the United States' employ for some time now. One of the…more fortunate remnants after America's underground war with Hitler's Occult Division. We've been doing the jobs that are so secret, even the Men in Black don't know about it. And they know a lot, mind you. Now, all that aside, even though most of our telepaths may be less formidable than the ones trained at your school, we still managed to feel the psychic spike that tore through the South of Baghdad. We assume you felt it too."
"Yes. Odds are, every telepath in the globe felt it." Emma responded.
"Let me guess. Seeing as a mutant did cause this, you're going to ask us X-Men to go out there and neutralize him, or her, before something else goes wrong." Scott declared as he leaned forward. Lilah nodded her head in response.
"Well, I'm sorry to have to say this, but if you just did what you promised and pulled our troops out of that war zone, then you wouldn't be in this mess to begin with!"
"…I'm sorry you feel that way Mr. Summers, but please…do not mistake me for a war mongering Texan. This war has taken a toll on our great country far more than the public would ever know. We want it to stop as much as you do…"
"Funny how I don't believe that." Emma chided.
"We believe it wasn't just a telepath." Lilah then declared, hoping she could get the couple's attention. It worked. "We've…we had a group of women under surveillance. Women who displayed extraordinary abilities. Mutants. According to our mole, one of them grew up with the ability to cause the brain to actually accelerate its motor functions…resulting in what could only be described as a complete, mental overload. This woman may have been the reason why the telepath spiked at such alarming power. Telepathic overload."
"If you had them under surveillance, then why didn't you stop them before they could do any of this?" Scott asked, clearly the question on both his, and Emma's mind.
"You think we haven't tried?"
"…There are other superhero teams." Emma reminded.
"The Fantastic Four is somewhere on Nebula fighting a cosmic squid of some sort, and the Avengers are in Japan. Or most of them are, I'm not entirely sure. Please, X-Men, your country is asking you to do the right thing."
"…we refuse to join a war that we don't believe in." Scott answered, hoping that his words would be enough to finalize their decision. "..." Lilah closed her eyes for a short moment, before opening them again.Scott was wrong.
"…Miss Frost. Before this conversation, you used your telepathy to completely overwhelm the will of another human being."
"What are you…yes, there was a threat, and I responded in kind."
"Of course, of course. Miss Frost, Mr. Summers, did you know that the media is completely under our control? And that we could make your little act of 'heroism' either the most profoundly inspiring thing to grace the newspapers and television screens… or an example of how a person such as yourself…a mutant, could simply go about and force anyone to do your bidding? Imagine how people would react should the latter perspective arise…"
"You're blackmailing us?" Scott asked, an expression of disgust clear on his face.
"If I have to. Mr. Summers, we are at war, whether you like it or not. This is your chance to show the world that you're on the right side."
"Actually, I'm quite a leftist myself." Emma retorted. "And you know what? If you ever use me to blackmail the X-Men again? I will kill you. Quite painfully. Please don't doubt for a second that I won't."
"…" Scott leaned back and stared at his girlfriend, a little surprised to see the usually composed woman lash out that way.
'Think about this…" Lilah pleaded. "You people have powers. Astonishing powers. Half of you are practically un-killable. If you go out there, and not ordinary men and women... men and women with families, then imagine the good you could do. Imagine how good it could be for the mutant populace."
"First it's blackmail, then it's pity…" Scott commented, still very much decisive on his chosen course of action regarding the matter.
"If you'll excuse us, this is our stop." Emma then declared in a resolute voice.
"…before you leave."
"Make it good." Scott commented.
"…my son died. In service to his country. He went to the frontlines, and he never came back. "
"…"
"If you don't help us stop these mutants before the war escalates into a meta-human free for all…then there's no telling how many more mothers will grieve."
Husaybah, West of Baghdad/14:00
It was one of those days. The sun shone brightly behind a curtain of clouds, painting the town with an endless tint of yellow. Like a dream. One of the women in red stood atop a square house made from stone and concrete. She was one of four, each a force not to be reckoned with. "Sultana." Another woman called, prompting her to postpone any further rumination.
"Yes, Laikana?" she asked, turning her head an inch back to show her recognition of the woman behind her. Even though they were not differentiated by rank, or class, Laikana still knew full well that she was in the presence of somebody who was far superior to her in talent.
"I have been meaning to ask…" she took a step closer, brandishing a soft voice that could easily fool any listener into believing that she did not just recently kill six marines with her hands.
"What is it?" Sultana inquired, not very fond of people who can't get their point out.
"The things we do. What we have been trained to do…"
"Yes?"
"…Why?" Laikana asked, her voice puzzled like a child.
"Why?" Sultana repeated, not entirely sure of what it was her colleague meant.
"The more we resist; the longer before this war will end."
"…" Sultana furrowed her brows, finally taking the time to turn around and face Laikana.
"We have been taught in the academe as much as we have been in warfare. Twenty years of learning how to talk, think, and breathe like one of them…it is…perhaps we could find a better way to settle this? If the foreigners do succeed in governing us, then perhaps it would be easier for us to get out voices heard…when we are under them I mean. And we cou- -"
"Enough." Sultana interrupted, losing any softness that she previously exercised.
"…" Laikana swallowed her breath, feeling a hint of the older woman's energy seep through her voice.
"It is a little too late for you to begin doubting the righteousness of our cause, is it not? Especially since you just had a little practice session in the hospital, not an hour back?"
"…" Laikana sighed out loud as she lowered her head.
"We are God's soldiers, my sister. There should be no room for doubt in our hearts. We exist to serve. We live, and find joy, in making sure that the people we love are content."
"…"
"Look around you. Look at the world we live in now. Who? Who is content? Nobody. Not them, always and always wanting more power than they could ever handle. And certainly not us for, for being the ones unfortunate enough to be standing in their way."
"But someone will always be in another's way. That is how the world works. It is incurable. Man, by his very nature, seeks self-fulfillment! Man does not adhere to the boundaries set by the men and women of old! How could we bring about happiness in a world such as this?"
"…There are means, Laikana. Men of old did not have the abilities that so many possess today. We do have friends in far away places. Foreign places. Friends who know, and understand perfectly, how it is we feel. They will help us bring down the great Satan."
"…but how?"
"Tell me, Laikana…have you ever heard of a device called Cerebra?"
Chapter 2 – End
Next Chapter…where there are heated arguments, plot holes and plot points, so the drama, possibly quite intense and Logan complains about wearing a stupid costume.
Author's note: There you have it, more mystery, more text, and more sarcasm! Yeah, my little creation from "Black", Mark Vasquez, is making a comeback, but don't worry, you don't have to know much about him to read the story. Just know that he's currently the boyfriend of telepathic super hottie, Mindee. Well, that's that! Review!