Author's note: Here we are… the second chapter of my little X-Men story arc! Which reminds me, X-Men, or any other superhero you may or may not read within are totally not mine. They so belong to Marvel, and saying otherwise would cause irreparable damage to my wallet. Mark's mine though, and I'm keeping him: - )
Jottma: Thanks, man. I've dreamt of writing my own comic since I was a kid, so your comment on Cassaday really made my day : - D
Anyway, without any further ado…
Previously on…
The Astonishing X-Men are a team of mutants who have dedicated their lives to protecting a world that hates and fears them. Led by Scott Summers, AKA CYCLOPS, and EMMA FROST, the X-Men have overcome threats not only to their race, but to the entire universe as well. Nonetheless, at their core, the X-Men are still teachers, mentors to thousands of children who wake up to find their world turned upside-down and inside-out. And in order to locate these children, the X-Men have under their use a small, helmet, CEREBRA, which increases telepathic awareness to near omniscient level.
Three night ago, a splinter cell born from the Government faction which fought off against Hitler's supernatural division, who called themselves the RING OF FATIMA, have come to the decision that world peace could only be achieved by sheer force of will. And that a device which could alter minds on a global scale wouldn't hurt either. That's why one of the Ring's members, LILAH GRAHAM, hatched an intricate plot which saw the X-Men out of the country, and their home utterly defenseless. Or so she thought.
The NEW X-MEN. Students who have learned the use and control of their uncanny powers under the best. Left alone, and with an entire army at their gates who want to take capture Cerebra, they do the only thing that the world has ever taught them to do. They fight back. With the STEPFORD CUCKOOS on the helm of Cerebra, it would seem that they could easily push the threat in the campus back. That was until Lilah Graham used her telepathy to heighten the violent urges of the students who didn't agree with the majority that Cerebra should not be used in order to force world peace. A riot broke out. Twelve students died, and much, much more were critically wounded. But more than that, the PHOENIX FORCE, which was hiding in MINDEE, one of the Stepford Cuckoos all along, re-emerged to devastating effect. Still, the small team led by Julian Keller, AKA HELLION, and MARK VASQUEZ, manage to beat Lilah and her soldiers. The X-Men finally come home to find the school in ruins, and the three sisters, who are now apparently hosts to the Phoenix, have disappeared.
Three days later, everyone in school is still on edge. The parents of one of the deceased students are headed to the school with a grudge to settle. And student BECKAH ADAMSON, one of the girls responsible for starting the riot in the school, gets brutally attacked by an unknown assailant inside her own room…
Chapter 2: "Nearer to Dying"
The sky was red. It would be up to you to decide whether it was like a rose's petal or a canvas smeared with blood. Perhaps some twisted joke that the heavens plays on a society which lives by ripping out the entrails of others. Of those who were weaker. Across the land, massive towers of rock and metal could be seen piercing the skies, testament that this planet's inhabitants made no sacrifice of technology in favor for heightening their physical prowess. It was the Breakworld. Quite simply, a world where you either break others, or be broken yourself. A world where the Darwinian theory of survival has become the very foundation of existence. And inside a large dome made of metal and glass that overlooked a gargantuan, barren cliff, there stood three of the planet's wisest, and arguably, most powerful, residents. The Liga. Violet robed men with green skin, red eyes, and long, flagellates that grew from the line of their cheekbones. Silent, they stood, atop a round pedestal which overlooked a vast, empty space, filled with a darkness that seemed to show no sign of end. At it's middle was erected a large, ornate mirror, so long that it's top was blurred by the red light that fell from the glass dome above, while its bottom disappeared into the cold void where it stood.
They called it the Timeshadows. A gift from an old man who simply referred himself as a Stranger who walked the galaxies in search of the ultimate truth. And in this gift's cold reflection, it has been said that every possible future may be viewed, just by willing it to be seen. Needless to say, it was a tool that has provided their people a great leverage in many wars throughout time and galaxy. Generations upon generations of the Breakworld's leaders have looked upon the Timeshadows' unflinching reflection in times of doubt and fear to seek guidance. And never has it failed in giving them the answers they needed. Never. Save for today. "Fire…there is nothing but fire" muttered the oldest of the three, as he stared at the image of a cosmic inferno, which spread across the entire multiverse. He held a long, crude, staff in his hand; a tool that had a small, round cage at the top, which housed what looked to be a brain with eyes. Eyes that were floating outside of the cage, held only by thick veins that pulsated from the center of the tool's mind.
"This…every possible future…all ruined." mumbled the second oldest. "There is no escaping the Phoenix."
"Those fools from the Shi'ar Empire truly have driven her insane…" bitterly commented the youngest. "I told you that we should have eradicated their pathetic race when we had the chance!"
"What is done is done. Fighting the Shi'ar will only be a waste of our time." calmly posited the oldest, before using a small remote inside his staff to cause the reflection of the Timeshadows to fade into smoke. "The Dark Phoenix may have blinded us to the many possible futures, but it does not mean that we have to sit back and simply allow what we have witnessed to pass." he then explained while he turned to face his two, less experienced brothers.
"…is there any word from the humans?" asked the second, with a twinge of disgust present in his dry voice. "Have they done anything to aid in rectifying this problem?"
"No. The time for pleasantries are over. Their cowardly ways have failed us already." answered the oldest, just as he turned to face the door. "This time, we take no more chances. We will break them."
Classroom/10:15
Mark stared blankly at the blackboard. His professor, a man with a pair of thick-framed glasses, and a belly that seemed to strain against the fabric of his suit, babbled on about how infinite passion is to be defined as 'man's passion for the infinite'. The philosophy of faith. It was worse than a death match with Apocalypse. The professor droned on, possibly unaware of the fact that none of his students were actually listening. In fact there was only a handful present for the day's lecture. The rest were either too bored; still hurt, or most likely, a combination of both. "…" Mark put his pencil down and folded his arms on top of the desk, where he immediately rested his head. A small feeling of comfort washed over him when he closed his eyes, as he allowed himself to drift away from the clueless educator's endless rambling. Back to the edges of his mind, where he tortures himself with the image of his missing girlfriend.
That was when a great explosion tore the room apart, burning everything and everyone inside. A vision; one which was both so very beautiful, and so deeply frightening, suddenly arose from the inferno. A young woman, completely engulfed, yet completely unscathed, by fire. And as Mark felt the skin peel off of his body and subsequently turn to ash, the only thing he could do was scream. And the six other students in the room gasped in surprise. Nothing. It was nothing. It wasn't even a dream. A blonde girl with short hair stared sitting by the windows stared at him in concern. Mark got to lock his eyes with hers for about half a second before she shyly turned away. "…Mr. Vasquez?" the professor worriedly called, his hand kept still over a half-finished word he was writing on the blackboard. "…is everything…are you alright?"
Cerebra/10:16
Emma turned her head up, wondering about the mysterious spike of psychic energy she had just felt. Unfortunately though, the trace disappeared as quick as it came, leading the highly-skilled telepathic nothing to work with, thus putting her back to the current matter at hand. The War Room. A collective psychic representation within the confines of the host telepath's mind, where anyone can discuss the most private of matters without fear of being overheard. In this case, the six X-Men found themselves sitting around a white table that floated atop an expanse of empty, light blue space. Sitting at the head was the illusion's maker, the White Queen, who was leaning back on her chair with both arms and legs crossed. Opposite her sat the school headmaster, and her lover, Scott, whose perennial frown even made its way to his psychic projection. At the sides were Henry and Logan, as well as Katherine and Peter. All of them were in their X-gear.
Around them floated large headshots of the students who were not fortunate enough to have survived the siege on the institute, as well as those who were well on their way to joining them. "I'm sure that I don't have to say it out loud…" Emma started, as she began to rotate the images of the fateful night around them. "…but for those of who you who are currently still living in denial…right now, we X-Men are at a distinct disadvantage. And not in that silly 'we're the underdog so we win in the end' kind. It's the 'if they hit us now, we're as good as dead' kind. The attack three nights ago crippled us. Literally."
"Wait- -" Logan shook his head for a moment. "…sorry, Ashlee Simpson was on, needed to change the station." he quickly explained, since both Henry and himself were still physically stuck in traffic over at Danbury, on their way to meet with an old friend in search for enlightenment on the recent events.
"…as I was saying…" Emma immediately continued. "…some very angry parents of some very dead children are pushing the school into legal trouble…trouble which I'm sure Scott can handle." Emma turned to Scott, who nodded his head. "Also…" Emma leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist. "…campus defenses are still not functioning- -"
"It is not easy when everything is metric." Peter chided, as he was the one charged with reconfiguring the defense systems which have proven instrumental to helping the X-Men. In fact, recalibrating the school's defenses is what Peter was doing right at that moment, with the left side of his brain doing all the work.
"That is why Katherine is supposed to help you, dear." Emma declared nonchalantly. Katherine took offense. "Hey, you try finding the time to upgrade alien tech while half a hundred severely traumatized students are asking for some 'professional' help." she bitterly suggested.
"I'm sorry, but can you 'not' handle your job? Is the prospect of matching wits with a bunch of sixteen year olds a little too much?" Emma snidely asked with a raised eyebrow. "Because I for one am bleeding my bloody brains out scanning the world over for the Phoenix, while at the same time plucking out the right side of your brains and keeping you here. Minus a few unsightly pounds I might add."
"At least I'm all natural, Miss Frost. And it's called a commlink." Katherine slyly rebutted. "Want me to teach you how to use it? It's really nifty!"
"Both of you. Quiet." Scott immediately interjected, clearly in no mood for their telepathic meeting to disintegrate into another verbal contest between the two women. "Not now."
"…" both Katherine and Emma withdrew their claws, eyeing each other ominously for a moment, before silently breaking off. Emma then casually proceeded to check her nails.
"Kitty, is there something on your mind?" Scott then asked, offering the team's youngest member a chance to voice her concerns.
"…It's just, yeah, I can take half my mind here and the other over here at the guidance center…listening… but…but Scott… you've got to hear what these kids are saying…see them…I mean, the way they look at each other in the halls? In the classrooms? Anywhere. It's like they're just waiting for the right moment to jump and tear each other's throats out. The girl I'm talking to right now is worried because she's having dreams about taking a knife and going on a stabbing spree in the school cafeteria!"
"…" Scott turned to Emma, who didn't bother to provide an answer. She already knew who would do it for her.
"Well, it's only natural." Henry calmly responded, right on cue. "The kids just had their own civil war. You don't get over something like that in the span of three days…"
"Yeah, I know that." Katherine replied, brushing a strand of her to the back of her ear. "But, instead of, of stretching our resources, maybe we should concentrate on this first. On the kids. I mean, this is still a school. Maybe we can…you know…put a little tranquility back to their lives…"
"…" Emma raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that I invade their minds and force them back into the 'Thousand-Acre Wood'? Because if you don't recall, this whole debacle started because of that very sort of despotic proposition."
"No- - No! Of course not! It's not that...it's…I'm not asking you to change their personalities or mind wipe them or anything, I'm just asking if maybe you could do something to stop them from taking their grudges to the next level. I mean, it's that or I start adding morphine to the cafeteria food."
"I don't think it's anything to worry about, Kitty." Logan interrupted. "These kids, they saw war. They felt it firsthand. And I doubt any of 'em would wanna' do anything to bring all that blood and gore back. Not if they have a death wish. And if any of them do decide to act on their stupidity, we remind them what happened to the last bunch of jokers who decided to mess with the school's name."
"At any case, if a student does cross a line, we'll be quick to administer some discipline." Scott declared, hoping to settle the topic. "Logan, Hank, are the roads still clogged or do you want a teleporter to help you out?" he then asked. "We don't exactly want to keep our old friend waiting."
"…hmm, which reminds me…" Emma turned her head and gazed off into the far distance, obviously using her telepathy to check on something. "…we'll need to adjourn this little discussion for the moment, darlings… 'something wicked this way comes…'."
Outside, Gates of the Xavier Institute/10:20
Dave stared at the school while he stood; his left hand in his pocket, while his right holding onto the open door to the driver's seat of his car. Helen was still inside, sitting on the passenger's seat in what looked like a trance. You didn't need to be a psychic to see that she was completely shattered inside. Dave certainly didn't. He knew that there was no reaching her. That the words they exchanged were no longer between husband and wife, but between two people grieving over the loss of somebody they loved. More like strangers who had a common child. "…" Dave caught himself before he let loose his urge to scream.
"…Dave." Helen called, signaling at the school's intercom with both her eyes. Dave nodded, before turning to the small, metallic device that protruded from the brick pillar at the side of the gate. Helen closed her eyes. Dave's hand trembled as he reached for the button.
"Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell?" suddenly rang a man's voice which came from the other end of the machine. "This is Scott Summers, headmaster of the Xavier Institute…please, come inside." the voice then declared, just as the steel gates bellowed open. Dave took a moment to stare at the Georgian mansion in front of him, and took a deep breath. Even from where he stood, he could already make out the figure of a student patiently awaiting their arrival. She must be the one who will lead them to the headmaster's office. Dave narrowed his eyes.
Cerebra/10:22
"Sure you can handle them, Scott?" Emma asked, keeping a small fraction of her eyes on her lover, while the rest of her mind was still scouring the planet. Long range super-telepathy, it was called. All thanks to the amplification abilities of Cerebra; a machine housed in a large, round chamber lined with metallic plates that were meticulously attuned to specific frequencies that paralleled the electric functions of the mind. "…because you know, all I have to do is think it, and they go from hell bent malefactors to the school's gushing sponsors."
Headmaster's office/-at the same time-
"Don't even joke." Scott telepathically replied, as he readied himself while watching the visitors' car coming up the main rotunda from his office window. He shifted his weight, tugging at the ends of his white, flannel top, before fixing the belt buckle that kept his brown slacks up. Even at the inevitable verbal assault that was sure to come his way, he still couldn't shake the question nagging at the back of his head. The question of why he felt much more comfortable in his costume than when he wasn't. Much less vulnerable. Ever since he was young, Scott was taught how to fend, not only for himself, but for the people he cared for. At the age of twenty, he had already memorized every passage that Sun Tzu ever wrote on the art of war, and has trained in everything from Philippine Eskrima to Brazilian Capoeira. He could literally level a mountain just by looking at it. Perhaps that was why, to him, the threat of something he couldn't hit, seemed much, much more frightening. Much more real.
Danbury, Connecticut/-at the same time-
The sound of silver utensils clattering against fine China and the absent chattering of bored socialites filled the air of the upper class restaurant, which sat prettily on the opposite corner of Elmwood Park. A soft, subtle hymn from an old violinist standing on stage set the proper mood for the always distinguished patrons, including a beautiful, blonde woman with long, curly hair and a pair of round glasses. Her name is Valerie Cooper. A long-time ally of the both the X-Men and the X-Factor, as well as a current member of the newly founded Office for National Emergency. On a table just a few feet away dined three agents who were assigned to protect her, should anything go awry. "…" The people stop talking, and the violinist, for half a second, stops playing. Two men have just entered the restaurant. Valerie smiled.
"Hank. Logan." she greeted, as she watched the two men approach. "It's been quite some time."
"Val." Henry greeted back, while Logan raised his hand and gave her a casual salute. Valerie graciously stood up and gave Henry a long embrace, one which ended with a light, friendly kiss on his furry cheek. Logan extended his hand for a handshake, but was caught off guard when Valerie opted to hug him as well. A few of the restaurant's patrons watched them taking their seats, scrutinizing every movement, not because they were afraid, but because the X-Men were very well on the road to becoming unofficial celebrities thanks to the boom in mutant culture. Celebrities. It made Logan a little uncomfortable.
Cerebra/10:24
Emma took a deep breath, as she once again invested her energies in pinpointing the location of the recently resurrected Phoenix Force. At that very moment, a stampede in South East Asia kills close to a hundred people. She gives the grieving strength to go on. A ferry over at the Red Sea is dangerously close to having a disastrous engine failure. She telepathically orders somebody to check on the boiler room before it's too late. Somewhere in Texas, a man was raping her twin daughters. Emma curls her nose and then subjects him into an excruciating, crippling stroke that will leave him paralyzed for the rest of his life. Three acts of heroism in less than one minute. And still no sign of the Phoenix. "…girls…where the hell are you hiding?" asked the White Queen as she jumped from one continent to the next, hoping to find the Phoenix before it decides to make itself known. After all, another surprise was the last thing they needed.
Headmaster's Office/-at the same time-
A thick, blanket of light came in through the massive windows behind the silent headmaster, thus covering his face in shadow. His ruby quarts glasses however, still remained a bright shade of scarlet. "…before you say anything else, I want to get something out of the way." Dave declared as he and his wife Helen sat in front of Scott's desk. Helen holding back her tears. "We don't want your money." Dave explained, his voice stern and threatening. "Your money…and we know you have lots…but it won't bring our Cady back. I know that. We, know that. But maybe…maybe some way, you people can." he proposed softly, a small glimmer of hope shimmering in his eye. Helen remained practically catatonic.
"…I beg your pardon, Mr. Mitchell?" Scott asked, a little caught off guard at the man's thinly veiled suggestion. Helen slowly turned her head and faced her husband, whose eyes were still locked with Scott's own. "You heard me." Dave sternly responded, as he leaned forward just to emphasize how serious he was. "This is a school full of super-powered mutants. Mutants, who you've said, could…could cure cancer! Heal any wounds! If that's true then there must be someone here who can bring my daughter back! Like that- -that X-Statix woman from television!"
"Sir…please." Scott politely interrupted, before the man in front of him could go on. "…you have to understand that, even for all of our abilities…there are still a lot of things that are impossible for us to do. And even if we could…there are still lines that we just shouldn't cross. We're still only human."
"But…but we can pay you." Dave whispered in a miserable voice. Scott fell silent, thankful that they never got to see his pained eyes, as he was once again reminded that there are still a lot of things that are much more agonizing than being thrown of cliffs or stabbed by claws.
"Anything you want…we'll pay you anything…just make her alive again." Dave further pleaded. Scott closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Danbury, Connecticut/-at the same time-
"I can't do that." Valerie stated, in a voice tainted with both sadness and resolution. Logan leaned back on his chair and let out an exasperated sigh. Henry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his snout.
"You know what this means to us, Val…" beseeched Logan, who rested his hand on top of an empty glass. "Kids died that day. Kids who had their entire lives ahead of them. And if you know who is responsible- -"
"I still won't be able to help you." Valerie poignantly interrupted.
"Val. Please." Henry implored, leaning closer to their longtime friend. "These people were CIA. An organization that you have intimate connections with. And these people hurt us, bad. And if we just let them get away, there's no telling when they'll come back and attempt to do it again. We've got our tails in between our legs here. Literally."
"…" Logan grabbed Henry's glass of wine and shot it down in one swig.
"I'm sorry Hank…Logan…I really am. But how do we tell this to the world? These people you're looking for, they have families. Connections. There isn't any big knockout punch here; no giant optic blast to end the fight…you can't solve it that way. And I know that's what you'll try to do." Valerie turned to look at Logan. "But violence… right now, violence isn't the answer."
"…tell that to the people who won't be picking their kids up for their Christmas break this year." Logan bitterly responded, earning him a reprimanding look from Henry.
"It's treason to fight the United States Government, Logan." Valerie declared, though she still kept her voice low as to not attract anymore attention from the other patrons.
"Oh…but when they send an entire regimen of soldiers to kill children in their own land…it's in the name of self-defense, am I right?" Henry bluntly asked. Valerie glared back.
Cerebra/10:26
"Wait…" Emma squinted through her telepathic lenses, feeling something amiss in between the fields of emotion and energy. It was subtle at first, like a small rumbling that comes from a hungry stomach. Then it grew louder, stronger; a feeling of pure, psychic immensity that the White Queen had barely survived encountering two times before. An ocean of bright light that no mind would dare venture in, lest he or she wish to never find the way back. The endless shore that leads to the room where life and death incarnate sleeps. "…!" with a sense of urgency, Emma grabbed onto the sides of her amplifier helmet, and began to concentrate harder. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. There was a numbing cold that crept all over her body, seeping into the corners of her mind and stabbing her like a thousand tiny needles. Worming their way into her thoughts. Poisoning. Her knees shook. Sweat trailed down her lips and blood trickled down her nose and ears. There was no mistake. "…she's here…"
Headmaster's Office/-at the same time-
"What?" Scott half-turned his head at the faint echo of his lover's strained voice. Normally, he would have rushed to her side, wherever she may be, just to make sure that she was safe. But like her, he too was in some slightly more pressing matters at hand. Namely the livid man who stood in front of him.
"You heard us." Dave angrily pointed out, his sorrow already giving way to pure frustration. "You people…you are not fit to be the guardians of our children."
"Sir, with all due respect- -" Scott contested, his mind torn between worrying about the couple in front of him, and the woman inside his head.
"Where were you?" Dave then shouted, slamming both of his palms on Scott's desk and leaning over the silent headmaster in a menacing stance. "You know! You monsters! You know! You know that there are people out there who want to kill your kind! Kids! Babies!" Dave then pointed his finger to Scott's face. "You know this! You know it and you still left our children without anyone to protect them! You sick son of a bitch! You left my baby girl to die!"
Danbury, Connecticut/-at the same time-
"That's not true." Valerie denied softly, keeping her eyes locked with both Henry and Logan's. "The United States Government has done everything it could to promote harmony between human and mutant- -"
"Really?" Logan irately interrupted, leaning forward. "Is that why every year, some nut job from the Republican Party still pushes for the Mutant Registration Act? Is that why the Sentinel Program got approved? What about Operation Zero Tolerance? What about weapon fucking plus?"
"Logan!" Beast pulled his teammate back, before any of them could make a bigger scene of their present debacle. The violinist had already stopped, a little worried about the verbal dispute between the three. The rest of the restaurant patrons have also taken the moment to listen in on what was happening. "…" No one made a sound. No one dared.
"Sirs? Ma'am?" asked a nervous waiter, who approached Valerie, who seemed the least intimidating, from the side. "I'm terribly sorry, but perhaps the three of you could- -"
Cerebra/10:27
"- - get out of my head!" screamed the White Queen, as she pulled the amplifier helmet off of her, and with a pained grunt, quickly threw it down to the steel bridge floor. The loud sound of metal against metal echoed throughout the round chamber, fading away just as Emma found herself on her knees. There were tears in her eyes. "…no…no…no…" she thought mournfully, over and over, trying to shut out the images that have been burned into her mind. Visions of a charred world, where not even the strongest hero or villain would have survived. She could still feel the flames. Fire that was colder than ice. Worse yet, a vision of the only possible way that cosmic holocaust would be averted. "…it's not just her…it's not just her…" Emma shook her head wildly, in some vain effort to shake the thoughts out. She failed miserably. "No! Not again! Not again!"
Headmaster's Office/-at the same time-
"Never again." Dave promised through gritted teeth. "I told you he'd say no…" Helen whispered lifelessly. "I told you, but you didn't listen…"
"…" Dave ignored her, still keeping his attention to the X-Man sitting silently in front of him. The mutant's seemingly emotional detachment from the issue only fueled his rage further. "Do you hear me, Mr. Summers? Never again will innocent children be put in the line thanks to your…your negligence!"
"It's all a waste of time…" Helen then chided; her broken voice still no louder than the sound of a falling needle. "Why did you bring me here?"
"Tomorrow morning, we are coming back here with the rest of the families who lost their children… and we will bring every goddamned news team in this state…and we will show the world what harm you've put our kids through. We will show them that none of you are fit to be the guardians of our children!"
"Mr. Mitchell - -" Scott readied himself for the rain of profanities that he was sure to receive for what he was about to say, but something prevented him from spitting it out. Footsteps. Heavy and in speed. Dave curiously turned to the direction of the door, while Scott stood from his desk in alarm. The footsteps drew closer and closer, with no hint of slowing down. Scott readied his aim, as the closed doors were broken open. "Hisako?" the headmaster shouted, realizing that it was the Japanese student equipped with a large, psionic exo-armor who had literally barged into his office. Her eyes were wide open. Terrified. In her arms was Beckah's brutally beaten body. She was already dead.
Danbury, Connecticut/-at the same time-
"…!" Logan looked out the window for half a second and gritted his teeth. So did Henry. Valerie immediately realized something was wrong. Without warning, the verdant memorial square that was on the opposite side of the street erupted into a great column of cosmic fire, reducing everything in it to ashes within a fraction of a second. "Get down!" Henry screamed. Logan instinctively dove forward and tackled Valerie to the floor, right before the broken glass that flew from the force of the shockwave could cut her into pieces. The waiter who had just told them to keep the volume down was decapitated instantly by a rather large shard. The rest of the patrons were not spared either, as severed limbs and dead bodies were flung through the air like broken mannequins.
Planet Earth/-at the same time-
For anyone who had a clear view of the blue sphere that they called home, the sight before them must have truly brought forth the fear of God into their hearts. Thin, thread-like tendrils made of bright fire ravaged the entire planet, like hellish rainbows that burned from deep beneath the ground, rising in to the atmosphere and then bending right down to pierce yet another blot of land. It was like watching the rapture at last unfold, as if the very gates of hell have opened to usher in humanity's final days. And beyond the soft glow of the sun's reflection from Earth's surface, and into the unfeeling vastness of space, did for a second appear, a spark that was brighter than the oldest star. A spark that shrieked and stretched across the infinite darkness as if to claim the entire universe for its own…
Chapter 2 – End
Next Chapter – where chaos ensues.
Author's note: That's it for this week! I hope you enjoyed! Drop me a line and tell me what you think…; - )