AN: Again, I'm sorry about the delay. This past month was very, very hectic.
Chapter 9: Fire and Water
Joey looked up in dread, fear coursing through his body. But, as the claws began to descend, the creature was suddenly distracted, looking above Joey's abdomen. The lycanthropic mutant followed the creature's gaze.
The things that had cut through his muscle and tendons were floating above him. It seemed that some invisible force had grabbed them, and was not about to let go. As he watched, he heard the unmistakable sound of the creatures' chitinous skeletons beginning to crack. All of a sudden, it occurred to him that not only were they being held in the air, but something was crushing them. He noticed that their arms and legs were being pressed against their bodies, as if they were malformed. With an abrupt cracking, blood gushed like a fountain from one of their abdomens. The falling liquid seemed to highlight a formerly invisible bubble that, as he watched, seemed to be getting smaller.
They were getting smaller, he realized. As the spheres got smaller, the pressure inside them increased. And, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what would happen next. Two thunderous cracks rang through the hot air, filling the creatures with dread, and the heroes with hope. The things in the bubbles popped open, like a cockroach under a massive foot.
The creature above Joey's head roared in aggravation. Raising its hand, it swung it claws, aiming for his brainpan…. But, its claws hit an invisible shield, bending its hand at an awkward angle. The creature howled in pain, blood spurting out of its wrist, its hand hanging on by only the barest amount of its skeleton.
A sudden blur of silver caught Joey's eyes as he looked up. Before he knew what happened, he heard and felt a thunderous tremor, as something hit the ground at high velocity. Looking above his head, Joey saw a massive splotch of red-orange blood where the creature had been. Around it, he could see a cloud of dust had erupted from whatever had hit the ground, and was settling next to the blood. He realized the dust and blood were highlighting another barrier, this one protecting him.
Out of the dust, a great arm appeared, covered entirely in silver metal. A creature charged the metal figure, its tusks bared. The figure's arm lashed out at the creature, the metal-covered forearm striking the creature in the midsection. The force of the blow was so great, the forearm went straight through the monster's body. The top half kept going forward, covering another ten yards, while the bottom half fell backwards.
The figure turned towards Joey, and asked in slightly accented English, "Are you alright, tovarisch?"
- - - -
One Minute Earlier
"Goddamn," Jake exclaimed. He was looking at the battle below through the cockpit. "It looks like a scene from "Starship Troopers"."
Below them, creatures with black exoskeletons, and long, grey tusks were attacking the small number of X-Men. Cyclops had just fired off a massive burst of energy in almost a complete circle. And, as they watched, they saw Lobo jump into a group of creatures that had charged them from the only direction Cyclops couldn't get to.
"Time to go to work," Warlock sighed to himself. He turned to his fellow X-Men. "Iceman, Cable, Colossus, the three of you are going to be with me on the ground. Storm, I want you to attack these things from the back of their ranks. Try to confuse them; make them lose rank and turn tail." He smiled wryly. "And if that doesn't work, show them why they call you the Windrider.
"Rogue, I want you and Colossus to be the first out. Make an entrance."
"Sure thing, sugah," she replied.
"Archangel," he continued, turning towards the winged mutant. "After we've cleared an area, I want you to start getting people out." Warlock turned towards the other man, looking in the eye. "Start with the people that've been down there longest. Rogue, once we've made an area, I want you to help Archangel." He turned towards the powerful woman. "You'll make the last trip to the ground to pick me up." She nodded in acquiescence.
"Beast?"
"Yes," the massive, blue-furred doctor answered.
"Be ready with a med-kit, and maybe a couple of cots. Someone's bound to be hurt. Let's go people!"
"Jake," Betsy called from the cockpit. He looked up, catching her eyes as she twisted half out of her chair. "Be careful, luv."
"Always," he replied, his eyes gleaming devilishly.
- - - -
Now
Joey was momentarily stunned; the sudden appearance of one of his teammates surprising him. He finally had enough sense of mind to nod his head slightly.
"Good," Colossus answered. But, even as he spoke, creatures charged him, slashing at the massive man with their claws. But, it was to no avail. They only managed to break off their fingers, or worse, their hands. "You will have to do better than that if you wish to defeat me."
Frustrated, the creatures began dogpiling him. Two grabbed onto his arms, but he easily swatted them away. While he was busy knocking the other two away, a third charged him from the front, its tusks unsheathed. The creature collided with Colossus' metal hide, the tusks breaking on impact. Unable to stop, the creature kept coming, its head smacking into the Russian's abdomen, leaving a smear of foul-smelling blood.
"Ugh," the big man grunted, examining the blood in disgust. The creature fell to the ground, its skull caved in, revealing flecks of black exoskeleton over a yellow-grey brain. He curled his lips in disgust, as a weight hit him from behind. Another one had tried to tackle him.
As the armored man struggled to get the creature off his back, more tackled him. Over a dozen leaped on him from every direction. The first ones grabbed on to his arms, legs, neck, anywhere they could find purchase. More came, landing on the backs of the first wave, digging their claws into their comrades' backs to get purchase. Yet, they still could not fell the mighty Colossus.
"Get off of me," he yelled. With a single movement, as if shrugging off a massive coat, he sent the creatures flying. But, seven still clung to him. He focused first on the one on his right arm, the one with the weakest hold. He raised his arm up violently, the creature's grip slackening, and its chest appearing below his hand. He threw his hand down, as if spiking a ball, his massive palm breaking through its exoskeleton, and nearly cleaving it in half.
He grabbed the creature on his left arm with his right hand, and with a Herculean demonstration of strength, threw the creature. Its body twisted in the air, as it became little more than a speck on the horizon. He reached down, and pulled off two of the creatures on his legs. Lifting them by their heads, he rammed their heads together. Their heads exploded into little more than mush; they collided with such force, it was not only heard across the battlefield, but also felt. A fleck of bloodied carapace landed on the back of Iceman's head, fifty feet away.
"What the…," he exclaimed, touching the back of his head. "Ech," he yelled, seeing what was now on his hand, dropping it to the ground. A creature ran towards him, it tusks unsheathed, trying to take advantage of his distractedness. But, the iced mutant saw it out of the corner of his eyes, and with a thought, froze it to the ground.
Meanwhile, as ice-spikes erupted over Iceman's skin, Colossus bent down to deal with the other two creatures. Before he could reach them, Lobo, newly healed, pulled them off the bigger man. The lycanthropic mutant fell on the creatures, claws rending flesh and carapace with ease. He closed his fists on their necks, his strength combined with the sharpness of his claws allowing him to get a firm grip. His clawed fingers erupted through their necks on the opposite sides of his fists. With a quick movement, he tore off their heads, red-orange blood coating his forearms in thick torrents.
A sudden movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. Creatures stood in formed lines less than ten yards in front of him. As he watched, they surged forward, a mighty battle cry coming out of their throats. A ball of dread formed in his gut as he realized they were working to cut both him and Colossus off from the rest of the group. He and the massive Russian readied themselves, awaiting the veritable living wave to reach them.
But, before the creatures reached them, the temperature around them dropped dramatically, almost violently. A strong wind suddenly came out of the north, carrying with it an arctic chill that could cut to the bone. The wind blew into the creatures, stopping them almost immediately; they didn't seem to like the cold weather. As if to add insult to injury, snow began falling on the creatures, and only on them. Large, fluffy white flakes began falling, slow at first, but picking up speed. Carried on the wind, the snow began falling as a blizzard, visibility cut to almost nil. But, yet, it still picked up, becoming a complete white-out, nothing to be seen but the cold emptiness of the snow.
As the snow began letting up, Lobo glanced upward. Above them, Storm was hovering, her eyes milky white with power, her hair flowing with the wind, almost as if they were one. She extended her snow storm over another part of the battlefield, covering another massive group of creatures with the white stuff. Watching her, he realized she was the very epitome of a goddess: beautiful and terrible in her power.
On another part of the battlefield, Iceman smiled jovially. "Chill out," he called, covering a half dozen creatures in sub-zero water. Because of Storm's … storm, not only had the humidity rose, but the temperature had dropped. It was perfect weather for his powers; as opposed to the dry desert heat that they'd previously been experiencing.
"As if we haven't heard that one before," Warlock replied facetiously. He cut a creature in half as it leapt towards him, his sword dripping with red-orange blood. He kicked out at another's head, the toe of his boot hitting it at the base of the neck. It fell as if a sack of potatoes, its neck broken. Several dozen other creatures charged him, their tusks extended, their claws wide. Drawing his hand back, electricity began collecting around his wrist. With a sudden movement, he thrust his hand forward, the electrical charge discharging, effectively roasting them on the spot.
"You're just jealous," Iceman replied, half-serious. "You don't have a cool saying to go with your powers." He fired a blast of ice, freezing another group of creatures solid.
"Maybe," Warlock answered. He caught sight of Cable out of the corner of his eye. The big man had been surprised by one of the large man-bugs; he was on his back, one of the creature's claws drawn back over its head. Cable raised his left arm, and it suddenly became enveloped in metal. He grabbed the creature's arm, and crushed it in his grip, red-orange blood oozing over the metal as its hand fell to the ground. He hefted it over his head, and threw it as hard as he could. The creature's body landed in a large group of others that were still marching forward.
Catching sight of the new bugs marching towards them, Cable reached out with his impressive telekinesis. He crushed them with but a thought, as if a gigantic shoe had just come down on top of the creatures.
"Nice," Warlock said, disgusted. "Now I can say I've gotten a close-up view of what happens to a cockroach when its stepped on by a boot."
"It worked, didn't it," the other man asked pointedly.
"Yeah," Warlock answered, as he saw Celeste walking towards them. She was helping Scott towards them; it seemed as if they were attached at the shoulder. But as they got closer, he could see that blood was covering his entire left arm, as if he'd been bathing in it.
"One of those drongos got Scott in the shoulder," she explained coming up to them. They could see now that she had attached herself to his shoulder to stop the bleeding. His arm seemed to be hanging limply, as if nothing more than dead flesh.
"That's when we saw that big show of force, isn't it," he said, more a statement than a question. She nodded in reply. Warlock turned to find Rogue. She was flying low; as he watched she flew through a field of the creatures, bowling them over. Rogue? I need you to start taking people up to the jet, starting with Scott here.
Ah'm comin', sugah, she replied telepathically. Even as she sent the message, she flew higher, veering towards them. "What happened to him," she asked, landing, eyeing Scott.
"One of them winged him; it may've gotten an artery," Celeste replied.
"Get him up to the jet," Warlock ordered.
"C'mon, sugah, let's go see Hank," Rogue said, taking Scott in her arms, and shooting into the air.
Turning his face skyward, Warlock reached out telepathically. Archangel, I need you to start evacuating people; start with one of the civilians down here. He felt the winged mutant's affirmative in his mind even as he focused on several others. Seraph, Storm, he called. When the others are evacuating, I want the two of you to provide cover. Keep these ugly sons-a-bitches as far back as possible. We'll take care of any that might get passed you.
"Storm and Seraph are going to be covering us from the air while Rogue and Archangel are evacuating people." Warlock turned towards his teammates. "We're going to be guarding the people on the ground," he continued. He led the way, as they made a loose circle around the exhausted combatants. They were just in time to see Warren take Marty in his arms.
- - - -
Warlock, Cable, and Colossus were the last three on the ground.
The big telepath was holding back the tide of insect-like creatures with a massive TK shield. Although he wouldn't admit it, it was clear that the constant hammering of the humanoid insects was giving him a migraine, if only evidenced by his pained expression.
"Are you sure," the time-tossed telepath asked Warlock.
"Yeah," the other man replied. "We need to make sure these things, whatever they are, don't get to civilization."
"And you are the one to do it, tovarisch," Colossus asked, concerned.
"Storm could help," Warlock began. "But, there's no way to guarantee she'd be able to get them all. Iceman could help too; but the same problem arises." He shook his head grimly. "Betsy's flying the jet; I'm the only one that can kill all of these creatures without them escaping. And for what I'm planning," he turned towards his teammates, "it'd be safer if everyone were in the jet."
"What are you going to do," Cable asked, wincing as the creatures redoubled their efforts against his TK shield.
"I'm going to make Johnny Storm green with envy," he replied, a stony look coming into his eyes.
"You realize," Colossus said, "if you die, Betsy will find a way to bring you back, only to kill you again for being a hard-headed idiot."
Warlock looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Don't I know it," he said. As he finished his sentence, Rogue flew down to the ground, landing next to Colossus.
"Sugah, Ah can pick ya'll both up at the same time," she said, talking to Warlock.
"No, we've got to make sure to get rid of these fuckers," he replied. "Just be ready to pick me up at my signal."
"What'll be the signal?"
"You'll know it when you see it," he answered cryptically, the devilish glint returning to his eyes. "Now get the hell outta here." Rogue nodded in acquiescence, picking up Colossus under his arms, and flying into the air.
"Go ahead and let down the shields," Warlock said to Cable.
"If you die, I'm the one that's going to be blamed," the bigger man said bluntly.
"Yeah, and then you'll have to deal with Betsy in less than a savory mood," he replied jokingly. "And having seen her in a bad mood … I'd have to wish you the best of luck." He turned towards the Summers' progeny. "Now, go," he said, his voice becoming serious. Cable nodded as he floated into the air, the TK shields falling as he climbed into the hot air.
"Okay, boys," Warlock said, as flames began dancing over his forearms. "Let's see if my theory holds true." He began concentrating, trying to spread the flames over his body. In the back of his mind, he was aware of the approaching sound of thousands of insect-man creatures. Their footsteps, all of them moving at exactly the same time, reached his ears, like a massive hellish army.
Opening his eyes, he saw that they had marched much closer. They were deliberately taking their time, sure that one man could do nothing against all of them. But, he realized, belatedly, that it was the wrong thing to do. The flames surrounding his arms abated some, the exact opposite of what he wanted them to do. He could feel the sun beating down on his back, sweat rolling down his collar. The sound of the insect-men's snarling, and marching threatened to panic him. But, he clenched his teeth, forcing the rising panic to the back of his mind.
But, yet, he could not get the flames to spread. He knew he could get them to spread, to cover his entire body, if only momentarily. How, or why, he knew, he did not know. But, it was not a matter of knowing he could do it, only a matter of knowing how to do it. And that was what was frustrating him. Turning, he caught sight of the sun, and briefly wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake.
He realized, suddenly, that the flames had flared when he thought of the sun. They had briefly jumped just past his elbows. He looked around to see, to his shock, the creatures within two dozen steps of him. He closed his eyes, contracting his entire body. He pictured a close-up of the sun, roiling solar flares erupting from its surface. He thought about the heat, and suddenly felt the flames spread across his body.…
- - - -
Aboard the jet, Betsy looked on with trepidation. She kept telling herself she wasn't going to kill him. She wasn't going to kill him. She turned to Cable behind the pilot's seat. "What did he say he was going to do," she asked through clenched teeth.
"He said he was going to make Johnny Storm green with envy."
As the big man finished his sentence, there was a sudden flash from the ground. Looking out the nearest window, he saw an almost blinding light, reminiscent of an H-bomb. He realized it was Jake, his entire body surrounded by white flame. The flames seemed to collapse in on themselves. Then, in a single, abrupt, massive burst of energy, the flames exploded outward. The light was too much for his eyes, and he slammed them shut. In the afterimage, he could see the flames moving as if they had their own minds, roiling over the ground as a living wave of fire. The great burst of energy, too, reminded him of a nuclear bomb. He could almost imagine a mushroom cloud erupting from where Jake stood.
"That must've been his signal," Rogue said, trying to blink the afterimage out of her eyes. She exited the jet, and flew to the ground.
She returned less than a minute later, a semiconscious Jake in her arms. Handing him to Hank, she said, "He melted everything around him."
"Everything," the blue-furred scientist asked incredulously.
"Yeah," she answered. "It looked like there'd been an eruption, or somethin'." Hank took the smaller man further into the jet, and laid him down next to a bandaged Scott. After doing a few standard tests, he looked up, relieved.
"He's going to be fine," he said. "He seems to have tested the limits of his powers. I suspect that if we were to query him at a later point, he would confirm that."
"He's going to be okay," Betsy asked. She'd turned the jet around, making a heading for New York, and had put it on autopilot.
"Yeah, 'm gonna be fine," Jake answered weakly. "It'd take more than those fuglies to take me out."
"You bloody idiot," she said, kissing him. "If you ever do something that stupid again," she began, half-serious, "I'm going to feed you black pudding for a month."
"Ech," he cried. "Britons," he began with mock-seriousness, smiling widely, "have no taste in food."
"And Americans have no class," she finished, laughing freely. It was an inside joke from when she had actually tried to get him to try black pudding. It hadn't gone well. Later that evening, they'd stayed up half the night, he trying to prove British food was awful ("Spotted dick? Seriously, it sounds like a type of STD.") and she trying to prove Americans had no class ("Who in their right minds show off their knickers all day?"). In the end, they'd fallen asleep, neither one being able to prove their point.
"We need to get to L.A.," Scott suddenly spoke up.
"Why," Betsy asked, both she and Jake looking towards him.
"I got a distress call from Logan," he answered. "The computer recorded it. The message said he and Jean were in a war zone. In the background, it sounded like it. They were fighting something; something they were having a hard time with. But, that was last night."
"There's no telling what's happened to them since then," she said, considering what he had just said. "L.A. it is then." She went to the cockpit, and turning off the autopilot, changed her heading for Los Angeles.
- - - -
Later – Los Angeles
"Yeah, I can't tell Wolvie was here at ALL," Jubilee noted sarcastically.
They were currently standing in a dirty alley, an old dumpster at one end. On their right, not far beyond the dumpster, was the entrance to a small psychic shop. The alley itself looked as if a bomb had hit it. Blood splotches were scattered randomly over the pavement; they were already starting to take on a slight rust color. In several spots, there were body-sized indentations in the walls. Yet, what truly caught their attention were the number of scores in both the walls and the pavement. A few were five-clawed, made by clawed hands, the marks coming together as they ended.
Still others went deeper, made by three long blades, set close together. It was these that held their attention.
"Someone sure humped the dog here last night," Jake said grimly, eyeing the large amount of blood.
"What happened here," Ana asked, standing near Joey and Celeste.
"Logan happened," Scott answered acerbically. It earned him an annoyed glance from both Betsy and Jake.
"Considering the amount of damage, and the fact that Logan deemed it necessary to contact us," Hank said, "whatever happened could not have been good."
"There's a smell, here," Joey began. He was allowing his lupine senses to come forth, trying to find even the smallest evidence. "It's like blood, and death. But, there's something else to it. Something … something that is making me want to transform. I almost feel as if I should tear up everything here. It smells … I don't know."
"It smells tainted," Hank supplied.
"That as close a word as you will be able to get," a feminine voice suddenly spoke. They turned, to find a teenage girl standing in the door of the psychic shop. She looked tired, with circles beneath her eyes.
"What happened here," Betsy asked the girl, stepping towards her.
"You are friends of Wolverine and Phoenix," the girl asked rhetorically. "We knew you would be coming, but we were uncertain as to when you would arrive." She smiled widely, her eyes beaming.
"Who's 'we'," Betsy asked suspiciously.
"My grandmother and I," the girl answered. "She apologizes for not being able to greet you personally, but her arthritis is much worse in the morning. As such, she has asked me to greet you."
"And who are you?"
"A friend in these uncertain times," the girl answered vaguely. "It is good that you are here, as they will need your help."
"Where are they," Ororo asked.
"They are with friends that were unlooked for," the girl answered. "I will take you to see them." She walked out of the door, closing it behind her. "I will warn you ahead of time that you will likely want all of your people. And, I realize that I haven't answered your first question."
"Why haven't you answered it," Jake asked.
"Because it is not my place to answer it," the girl answered. "Now, as I have already said, it would be wise for you to have your entire team." She looked at both Jake and Betsy, as she spoke. They could not get over the feeling of eeriness the girl seemed to emanate from her. "I will wait until you have returned to show you the way to the den."
"Den," Hank asked, surprised.
- - - -
One hour later – Beneath Los Angeles
"Eww," Bobby groused. "Do I even want to know what I just stepped in?" They were moving through the sewers beneath the city. After everyone had gathered in the alley, the Chinese girl (who'd introduced herself as Zhu Chen) led them to the nearest manhole cover. And, of course, she then led them INTO the sewers. Now, the girl was leading them through the underworld of the City of Angels, with Jake and Betsy providing light with their swords. Unfortunately, Bobby had been wondering if the swords would be able to stand up to Thor's Mjolnir when he stepped in … something.
"Probably not, my heat challenged friend," Hank replied.
"Yeah," Bobby said. "You're probably right."
"Believe me," Joey spoke up next to him, "he is right." His eyes were yellow, a grey stubble on his face. "I can smell it from here."
At the front of the procession, the girl, Zhu, pointed in a new direction. "It is not far now," she said to Jake and Betsy. "But, I will warn you, once we are in the den, do not make any aggressive movements towards them." She turned back to the couple. "Though I am certain that your people can more than handle themselves in a fight, the ones we are going to visit are on edge. The battle last night was extraordinarily vicious, even for them."
"Who are they," Jake and Betsy asked as one.
"They are werewolves," Zhu answered. They suddenly came into a large, open gallery. Despite being underground, the gallery was remarkably well lit. Light came in the form of electric lamps hung from the ceiling equidistant from each other. A sudden animal smell assaulted their noses; it was almost like wet-dog, only with a wild undertone to it. Snarling, growling, and whining reached their ears. And, as their eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, they were surprised by what they saw.
Werewolves were all around them, in both human and wolf forms. Many were walking to and fro, going about their business, casting wary eyes at the newcomers. Children (or possibly cubs; it could go either way) scampered here and there playing with each other in small groups. There were several women nursing their newborns, their babies seeming as if stuck in transition, giving them an oddly cute appearance. Others, they saw to their embarrassment, were in the midst of coupling, the sounds of their lovemaking easily coming to their ears.
Irregardless of who they were, when they caught sight of the young Zhu, they cast their eyes down submissively. Any who happened to be in their way, hurriedly stepped aside, all the while keeping his or her eyes glued to the floor.
"They seem to know you," Jake said to Zhu, trying to keep his composure.
"Yes, they do," a new voice answered ahead of them. A man with long, brown hair, and a slightly haunted look in his eyes stood before them. Dressed in loose pants and a long coat, he was neither especially tall nor broad-shouldered. Yet, there was an aura of authority about him that was palpable. "Zhu was a major factor in our … victory last night."
"I was not that big of an asset," the girl replied, not accustomed to the spotlight.
"There are those who would say otherwise," the man replied. He took in the gathered X-Men appraisingly. "My apologies," he suddenly said. "Where are my manners? I am Andrew, and you are, undoubtedly, the X-Men."
"Where are Logan and Jean," Betsy asked, not wanting to wait any longer.
"This way," Andrew said easily, pointing behind him. "Please come with me." He turned around, and started walking deeper into the den, not bothering to look behind him.
Shrugging her shoulders, Betsy looked at Jake, and then the others in turn. "Might as well," she said, before she started forward, followed by the others. They entered a long, dark hallway. Every now and then, there was an opening to the side of the hallway that led, once again, into darkness. Andrew led them down a highway to the left, and then to the right. After that, though, Betsy lost track of exactly what direction they had turned, and where they were. The sewers were a veritable maze.
Several minutes later, they were led through a low doorway into a room that seemed to be reserved as a med-bay of sorts. There, to the left of the door, were two cots set side-by-side. In one, Logan was lying beneath an old blue blanket, his chest bare. To the casual observer, it would seem he was sleeping. But, the gathered X-Men knew better. He was healing, and by the look of it, was well on his way to being better.
In the next bed, Jean was lying. Like Logan, she was under a blanket, pulled to her underarms. Judging from her bare shoulders, she had been stripped of her clothing as well. She, too, seemed to be almost healed.
Next to them, a pale woman, with exquisite features, stood. Her hands were on the butts of two identical guns, ready to draw at a moment's notice. Her hard eyes softened at the sight of Andrew, though her hands still remained on the guns. Next to her, a man with dirty blonde hair stood, an old stethoscope draped over his neck. He didn't have as hard a glint in his eyes as the woman, but there was something about him that said he was no pushover.
"Who are they," Selene asked Andrew, never taking her hands off her guns.
"They are friends," he explained. "They are their teammates." He gestured towards Logan and Jean as he spoke.
"What happened to them," Jubilee asked, as she made her way to Logan's cot.
"We were in a battle last night," Selene answered. "They were hurt quite badly."
"How?"
"The … people we were fighting had a magic globe that robbed them of their powers," Michael explained. "Once the globe was destroyed, their powers kicked in, but they seemed to slip into comas."
"Yes," Hank suddenly spoke. Both the man and the woman were surprised by his appearance. But, they were both able to hide it almost as quickly. "When their bodies are damaged beyond a certain degree, their higher brain functions shut down. Though I am not entirely certain, it is my suspicion that this happens to shunt more energy into the healing process." He paused, holding his muzzle pensively. "It is also plausible that this coma state may prevent them from feeling the full pain of healing."
"I … see," Michael replied. He was more than a little surprised to find such an intelligent mind behind such an animalistic visage.
"What exactly happened last night," Jake asked, cutting to the point.
- - - -
The Previous Night
Michael was surprised to see Logan and Jean on the ground, barely hanging onto life. It had seemed to him they were nigh indestructible. His reverie was cut short as Selene appeared at his side. With a movement that could barely be discerned, she threw a small dagger at the cloaked vampire. To their dismay, it passed through the vampire as if through a cloud; air currents around the blade had caused swirling air currents in the leader's cloak.
"Damn it," she yelled, hearing the blade stick in the wall behind the leader.
"You shall have to do better than that, Death Dealer," the vampire leader said haughtily. But, even as he said it, Michael surged forward, so fast he wasn't even a blur. He lashed out with his clawed hands, hoping to grab the glowing, violet orb. But, as his hand approached the ball, a thin layer of purple light surrounded him, as if a second skin. Unable to move, he felt himself thrown backwards, the purple light dissipating as he crashed into a wall. He tried to stand, but his world started to spin, nausea assaulting him the more he moved.
Selene, seeing what happened to Michael, leapt forward, aiming a kick for the leader's head. But, the same violet light surrounded her, turning her upside down in mid-air. She was suddenly thrown threw the air, spinning wildly. She landed on her back, hitting her head on the pavement. She raised her head once, before her eyes rolled back, and she fell unconscious.
But, unseen by everybody, Logan, powerless, pain racking his entire body, had crept forward. It was testament to both his stubborn refusal to back down from any fight, and to his similarity to his moniker. Like his codename, he was stronger, faster, and much more dangerous than he appeared. It was just this that the cloaked leader of the vampires had not counted on. It was thus that he was surprised to hear Logan's voice at his feet.
"Ya should be talkin', bub," he said hoarsely. The vampire leader looked down, fear rushing through his veins for the first time. Before he could do anything, Logan's extended claws cut through his wrist, the blades so sharp he barely felt pain. As his hand fell away from his wrist, it carbonized, black dust exploding outwards, following the air currents. The violet orb fell, almost in slow motion. It kept on emitting energy until it hit the ground, shattering in a thousand pieces.
The moment the ball broke, Logan could feel his healing factor start working almost immediately. But, even as he felt it working, he passed out into a healing coma, blissfully unaware of what happened next.
The more powerful vampires, at seeing their leader hurt so suddenly, surged forward, intent on finishing off their enemies. But, they were stopped by a single, teenage girl, the tattoo on her left shoulder glowing angrily.
"You will harm no one else tonight," Zhu declared, her voice as cold as arctic ice. She stood in front of Logan, Jean, Selene, Michael, and the other combatants. She held her arms at her side, her legs spread apart.
"And what will you do, little girl," the vampire leader asked contemptuously.
"Simply this," Zhu answered. She raised her arms, her hands slightly above her head. Below them, the ground suddenly started to shake violently, almost as if an earthquake was striking. The shaking worsened, as pressure built up below their feet, one of the greatest forces of nature beckoning to the girl's call. Suddenly, a man-hole cover, behind the lycans, burst upward into the sky. It came sailing to the ground, the force behind it burying the metal disk half-way into the pavement. On the metal, innumerable droplets of water glistened under the moon.
Suddenly, form the same spot, a spout of grey water burst into the night air, its spray hitting several vampires in front of Zhu. Where the spray touched their faces, the skin began to burn, carbonizing the flesh. She smiled victoriously, the vampires' eyes widening in abject fear. She thrust her arms forward, as if commanding an army. The grey water leapt over the heads of the lycans, and Death Dealers, and crashed into the mass of evil vampires before her, instantly burning them alive.
- - - -
Now
Logan bolted straight upright, his claws unsheathing by their own accord. His eyes, normally sharp and alert, seemed almost vacant, frozen in a thousand yard stare. His nostrils flared, taking in the scents around him.
"Wolvie," Jubilee said simply, standing next to his cot. He blinked, his eyes coming into sharp focus. He looked around for the first time, spotting the girl by his side.
"Hey, darlin'," he replied. Selene noticed his normally scowling visage seemed to lighten at the sight of the girl. She wondered briefly if Jubilee was his daughter, biological or otherwise. Her thoughts, though, were cut short when Jean suddenly sat up as abruptly as Logan.
"Jeannie," Logan called. Her gaze fastened on Logan, her mind clearing, her memory falling into place.
"How did we get here," she asked, addressing it to anyone who'd answer.
"We were rescued," Andrew answered. He motioned towards Zhu. "The members of the Order are not to be underestimated." The girl blushed, looking down at the ground, unused to the attention. "After she saved us all, we brought you here, to heal."
"Thank you," Jean said warmly. Beside her, Logan nodded stiffly, thanking them in his own say.
Before anyone could reply to their appreciation, a glowing sphere of violet energy appeared in the middle of the room. "Not again," Logan groused grimly, his voice barely more than a growl. The sphere exploded outward, blinding them all in the bright light.
As the afterimages faded, they found that they had been teleported back to the "front" room. Unlike earlier, silence pervaded the entire room, as if catacombs. There, in the center of the room, the leader of the nosferatu stood. He was wearing the same cloak from the night beforehand. But, he was wearing a hood over his head, concealing the top half of his face. Of what could be seen, large splotches of skin seemed to have sloughed off from intense heat.
"You did not expect to be rid of me that easily, did you," the leader asked haughtily. The newly teleported heroes, especially those that'd been in the battle the night before, looked on with surprise. "Yes, you did kill many of my devout followers. But, what you did not seem to know is that I am a mage of the highest order." He cackled dryly. "It was simply a matter of a sophomoric spell to make myself intangible, to be able to escape. And, as you can see, I was then able to follow you. Now, you will all come with me."
"You really think we'll give up so easily," Jake asked, glaring daggers at the leader.
"Of course not," the leader replied, laughing. "Do you take me as an idiot? No. I knew I'd need something to barter against you." He motioned with his hands to the darkness around the room. Out of the shadow numerous other vampires appeared. All of them had glowing, violet glass globes. Suddenly, out of each orb, beams of light struck the mutants in their chests. They fell to their knees, the sudden absence of their powers making them weak. Seeing what happened to the X-Men, Selene and Michael leapt to their aide.
Even before they could get more than a half the distance, the same purple energy surrounded them. They were thrown backwards into the wall behind them, falling unconscious almost immediately.
"When you awake," the leader said malevolently, "you will be in for a true surprise." He laughed dryly, motioning for his followers to take the heroes captive.