The Point
Get To It
Chapter Three

Kitty Pride was dancing. She liked dancing. But this time dancing was especially fun because Kurt and Ray were trying to see the television and she wouldn't let them. Twirling, twirling, twirling, Kitty was getting dizzy, but she was laughing. Kurt and Ray were groaning, then whining, then yelling. Yet this only encouraged Kitty and she kicked up her feet to hop around, hands raised above her head as she wiggled allover and laughed.

In the kitchen, Rogue was mulling in front of an open refrigerator. Did she want milk with her peanut butter sandwich? Or juice? With all that noise, how was anyone supposed to think in this infernal place?

Abruptly Logan appeared, unshaved and his hair sticking up allover, complexion ruddy and his expression grim. His white tee shirt and blue jeans were ripped and soaked with musky-smelling sweat, which probably meant he had been in the Danger Room exercising. He headed straight for the living room through the kitchen as if nothing short of murder was on his mind. Rogue watched him go from the corners of her brown eyes and hid her smile. At the same time, she decided on milk. A moment later she heard the expected roar.

"KEEP IT DOWN IN HERE! I CAN HEAR YOU CLEAR ACROSS THE MANSION! IF I HEAR ONE MORE peep OUT OF YOU THREE ALL THAT'S GONNA BE LEFT OF YOU TO FIND IS BLOODY RIBBONS!"

There came the murmur of apologies.

"That's what I —Kitty, move. Quick! Whoever has the remote, turn it up!"

Suddenly the volume on the television turned up. Rogue heard screaming and looked up from pouring her glass of milk. It was a newscast; she could hear the murmur of the broadcaster's voice. She hurried into the living room and watched in stunned silence alongside Logan and Kitty, Kurt and Ray as the horror played out on LIVE TV before them.

"Insects everywhere!" said the announcer, leaning out of the traffic helicopter and her profile filling the camera. Even the woman news anchor couldn't take her full attention from it. Below, through what space the woman left, there was utter chaos. People running, screams echoing to the heavens where the helicopter bobbed and weaved, dodging random bolts of lightning that seemed to come out of nowhere and chasing masses of black clouds that, when zoomed in on, where seen to be for what they were—hundreds of millions of billions of bugs. "It's a terrible phenomena—insect researchers everywhere are mystified at what could have brought about this turn of behavior in the usually passive—ahh!" Suddenly the woman newscaster tore off her microphone head-set and began scratching at her long hair, raking her nails over her face. "They're everywhere!" she continued to scream. "Oh-my-god! I—I can't breathe! Jeff, JEFF!" The camera suddenly dropped and the picture went to static, emitting a high-pitched technologic scream. A few seconds later the regular male news anchor appeared at his desk, a shocked look on his face as he watched something off-screen.

Logan snapped out of it first. "Get the team!" he growled and left the room at a dead run.

Meanwhile, Osiris and Isis were in the middle of the chaos. They were handling it, as promised. Sort of. It would have helped their cause if Theseus would hurry up. Osiris pointed to a black mound on the street and it immediately burst into flame. He swung his head around and glared at another black mass, and that too caught fire that was doused quickly by the rain, but not without leaving the black mass charred in its wake. By now his sunglasses were long gone, his red eyes flashing in the firelight. Thunder rolled overhead and Osiris was forced to shade those eyes as an electrical current wrapped around him, creating a barrier of blinding white light. The wave of insects that had organized into another black cloud, readied to attack him, slammed into the barrier and were zapped like moths that had come too close to the neon lamp. Osiris dropped his hand as he felt the electric charge disperse, and sent his sister a thoughtful glance. Their garnet gazes met and she bobbed her head once, a strained smile on her lips. He could see that Isis was sweating, tiring, and Osiris cursed himself for it—she was only a halfie, after all; he should have fed her beforehand. Now she was too weak to keep up with him.

Something stung his arm and, reaching the end of his rope, Osiris shoved his own personal wind forth in a burst of temper. The draft was hot and noticeable, like a gust of humidity, unlike Theseus's would be, Osiris knew. Whatever had stung him melted away. Beneath his feat Osiris felt the soles of his sneakers melding with the tar, and he slipped the Converses off. Maggots crawled out of the ruined shoes, and Osiris would bet that if larvae could scream then these would be. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he relished in that heat, sent it forth in waves. He paid no attention to the people that got in the way of his heat-wave—they were soaked with cold rain, and as the unbearable heat passed over them white steam rose from their skin and what was left of their clothes, but otherwise they kept intact. The bugs, resistant to water unless drinking it, were not so lucky.

"Oz! My hair!"

Still radiating the invisible inferno, Osiris turned to see Theseus standing before him. A sheepish grin came to Theseus's pale lips as he held up two small girls, one by the hair and the other by the collar, one in a dress and the other in tee shirt and jeans, but otherwise identical twins, aged nine. There was pain in his hazel eyes, though. Meanwhile the girls' attention was drawn to Osiris, and the one in the cotton shift screamed hysterically as recognition dawned on her features. She struggled hard, trying to twist away from Theseus, but he held fast her hair. Osiris wondered how long Theseus had been there, for he hadn't heard the girls' screams over the rest of the city's panicked inhabitants.

"What is this?" he demanded, shouting at Theseus if he was to be heard at all. "Is this a joke? You bring me two little girls?"

"It's them," said Theseus calmly, while his gaze roamed to study the damage about him. "The one in the dress—she has premonitions. She knew me. The other is controlling these insects."

No sooner had Theseus said it than Osiris appeared in front of the little girls, half-crouched but also kneeling. He came directly eye-level with Ruby Riley.

Ruby, who had never seen something as scary as an angry Osiris in all nine years of her life, forgot to scream in her bewildered terror. Osiris noticed her fright, and took full advantage of it. He put his face very close to the child mutant's, and even as she tried to back away, to press her back to Theseus's thigh because there was no escape, Theseus only tightened his hold on the scruff of her neck so that she wasn't able to move very much without choking herself first. Osiris's red eyes and the girl's young set of brown met and though she wanted to look away, Ruby found she couldn't. A very low, menacing voice burst into Ruby's thoughts; the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, and Ruby couldn't see how it could be coming from anywhere else than her very own thoughts.

"Do you feel that heat in your head, though the rain is cold? Do you hear the way your sister screams? Your sister knows who I am, doesn't she? She can see the future, sees things before they happen, so she knows I can hurt you. She knows I will hurt you if you don't do exactly as I tell you. I am not Theseus—I am not afraid to hurt little girls. Now banish these bugs. Make them go away. Or I'll burn you alive, girl. That heat you feel in your head will consume your body, and you'll feel my fire even as you collapse and the darkness takes you. Now do as I say!"

But Ruby was too afraid to do anything.

Osiris grabbed her forearm and it burned. Ruby opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out.

"Oz! OSIRIS! STOP IT! She's just a child, Osiris!"

He let go and the red eyes flickered up, studying Theseus's pained expression contemptuously. Then the demonic eyes were on her again and Ruby felt herself trembling. She called to the bugs in the only way she knew how—she forced her will upon them. Ruby didn't really know how she did it, but if she thought very hard and long about something, she knew the bugs would follow that thought's direction. They could understand her speech, too, which is why they came to her aide when she screamed. The bugs liked Ruby, unlike her mommy and daddy that hated and were afraid of her. The bugs didn't try to manipulate Ruby the way her sister did. And Ruby liked the bugs.

Eventually, the buzzing began to drain away. Theseus looked around in awe. The bugs were going away. What black mounds weren't dead and charred lifted up off the pavement, off of their human prey, and headed skyward. Lightning chased after them, but most of the insects seemed unconcerned about it. Those that were injured, maybe a wing crumpled or most of its legs missing, dropped out of the sky to fall squirming to the pavement and slowly stilled. Soon, the screaming also stopped as people began to realize that the worst of the storm had passed. Those mostly uninjured went to check on those that lay face-down on the sidewalk with dead insects stuffed up their noses and in their mouths. Out of habit, Theseus took stock of the living and the dead. Out of the thousands of businessmen and women that had been up and about before, Theseus surmised that only a little more than half remained alive. It was more carnage than anything that Theseus had ever seen, and Theseus had seen a lot, and not just in numbers of fallen humans—ample heaps of insect-assassins had fallen in the combat as well.

"Is she still just a child, Theo? Have you ever seen only a child do something like this?"

In denial, Theseus could only shake his head in answer to Osiris. He didn't want to believe it. Children weren't capable of this. She was only nine. What could have possessed a nine-year-old to murder so many?

Isis appeared then. She crouched beside her brother, studying the girls from behind reflective black lenses. First she looked over the one in the dress, Gem, and then she looked over the one in jeans, Ruby. Both had fallen totally silent, looking suddenly much younger than they were and more fragile than their actions suggested, especially when compared to the tall and stocky Theseus that held them captive. They stared in quiet suspicion at the dark-haired female, fit teenager, fear in their eyes as they noticed the dead insects tangled in Isis's hair and the tears in her yellow shirt, denim pants. Would this one hurt them like the brown-haired boy had threatened to?

At the same time, Isis noticed the circlet of red surrounding Ruby's right forearm. "Why?" Isis whispered, staring at the burn that would become blistered, callused, and finally a pale scar. "Why would you hurt them? Kill them? What have these people ever done to you?"

Abruptly there was the sound of a sonic boom that the trio easily recognized. They looked up simultaneously in time to see the stealth, military-style black jet stop in midair, and quickly lowering itself to earth. If they didn't move, it would land right on top of them.

"Theseus," snapped Osiris. "Stop the rain. Isis, take the girls. If they try to run, zap them."

Theseus and Isis met gazes as she stood, mute understanding transferring between them, then she looked down at the girls and held out her hands. The twin girls observed her hands fearfully. "I won't hurt you," murmured Isis. "We're just going to move out of the way so the jet can land. Come on now, be good girls for me. Don't make Oz mad." Quickly, the girls seized her hands, at the same time visibly bracing themselves. They shut their eyes tight as theirs and Isis's skin touched—then their eyes opened as they realized her flesh was soft, and cool. As Isis lead them away, to the far side of the street and onto the sidewalk, tears slowly began to slide down young Ruby's face.

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A/N: Ridden in angst, my favorite. Now enter the X-Men. Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying.

Disclaimer: I own all Original Characters and this plot. My words are my own. Marvel Comics owns the rest.

NOW SHOWING! Bloopers! :

(these are just little darkly comical thoughts that went through my head while writing this chapter):

"Insects everywhere!" said the announcer, leaning out of the traffic helicopter and her profile filling the camera. Even the woman news anchor couldn't take her full attention from it. Below, through what space the woman left, there was utter chaos. People running, screams echoing to the heavens where the helicopter bobbed and weaved, dodging random bolts of lightning that seemed to come out of nowhere and chasing masses of black clouds that, when zoomed in on, where seen to be for what they were—hundreds of millions of billions of bugs. "The traffic here is terrible! People are jaywalking at an alarming rate…I've never seen so many pedestrians breaking so many traffic laws at once. Cars are bumper-to-bumper downtown, not moving an inch. In fact drivers and passengers alike are out—ahh!" Suddenly the woman newscaster tore off her microphone head-set and began scratching at her long hair, raking her nails over her face. "They're everywhere!" she continued to scream. "Oh-my-god! I—I can't breathe! Jeff, JEFF!" Suddenly the woman straightened up and looked straight at the camera with a stoical face. A fly was making its journey up her left nostril, but she appeared to take no notice. "I'm Lisa Lyndell with the 6 o'clock traffic report. Back to you, Jeff."

The camera suddenly dropped and the picture went to static, emitting a high-pitched technologic scream. A few seconds later the regular male news anchor appeared at his desk, a shocked look on his face as he watched something off-screen. Finally he turned back to the camera, coughed, put on his grimmest look, and said, "Thank you, Lisa, for that look-ahead on traffic. Now onto sports with Terry Hoop. Terry?"

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