Thanks very much! I really appreciate your comments. Here's Wolverine's version of the story. Hope you enjoy it!
Layer Two: Making the Whole World Blind
All this happened some eighteen years ago…
Wall Street was gone. The proud, gleaming skyscrapers that had once marked the financial capital of the world were now nothing more than twisted, burnt-out shells. The ruins loomed like gnarled, grasping hands in the dusky twilight, lit from within by occasional pockets of flames and sparks. Wolverine stared at the charred, flaming rubble in grim disbelief, his jaw clenching as a cold rage flooded through his veins.
"Unglaublisch." Nightcrawler's voice was hoarse and thick with emotion as he flew the X-Jet low over the ruined street. His golden eyes were reflected in the windshield; two blazing coals against the rising curls of smoke.
"They've really done it this time," Wolverine growled, his adamantium claws straining under the skin of his tightly clenched fists. "It's like a nuclear holocaust out there."
"I'll scan for life signs," Nightcrawler said, forcing himself to rip his gaze away from the terrible scene to focus on the control panel in front of him. Wolverine shook his head.
"You ain't gonna find anyone, buddy," he stated flatly. "Poccy's Horsemen have been and gone. We're too late."
Nightcrawler looked up from his monitor, his taut, angry features almost frightening in the greenish light from the screen. "I am scanning for life signs," he repeated. Wolverine shrugged, but he kept his mouth shut, letting Nightcrawler work.
"I gotta admit, I didn't expect they'd take it this far," he said after a few minutes, his gaze fixed on the smoldering rubble below. "Until now, Poccy has always preached 'survival of the fittest.' What good is settin' the factions against each other if they all wind up dead?"
Nightcrawler spoke without looking up. "We are just pawns to him," he frowned, his accent lending his words a clipped sharpness the Wolverine had rarely heard from his friend. "Mutants and humans alike. He plays on humanity's fears, agitates the weak-minded to violence, then watches from the sidelines as they destroy each other. He does not care who wins in the end—only that he will come to dominate the world unopposed." Kurt's frown deepened, his brow furrowing over the flickering monitor as he said, "Apocalypse is a man without a soul."
"Hey, I ain't gonna argue with you there," Wolverine said. "All I'm sayin' is that ancient Egyptian bastard has been spoutin' his mutant super-race garbage for five-thousand years and I—"
"Logan!" Nightcrawler exclaimed suddenly, cutting him off in mid-thought. "I'm getting something! Six mutant life signs—and one of them is incredibly strong. It has to be Apocalypse!"
"Come to gloat, no doubt," Wolverine snarled, glaring at the glowing blips on the screen. "Take us down, Elf. I want to see what he's up to."
Nightcrawler nodded, already on the lookout for a safe, stable landing place. "We should contact Cyclops," he said. "In case we're spotted, it would be good to know back up is not far away."
Apocalypse stood high on a fallen block of concrete and steel, like a lion surveying his pride. The gray-faced metamorph's body armor gleamed dark blue in the flickering light of a nearby electrical fire. Below him, three of his Horsemen were circling two cringing figures from astride their metallic steeds. Wolverine's dark eyes narrowed as he realized he recognized the terrified mutants as the leaders of New York's two most powerful anti-human factions: Callisto of the Morlocks and the green-skinned Mesmero, who was rumored to manipulate the latent racist fears of his followers through hypnotism. As he and Nightcrawler watched, the Horseman known as War aimed a savage kick to Callisto's ribs. The ragged Morlock crumpled to the ground with a gasp, only to snap her head up with a fierce, defiant glare.
"What do you want from us?" the Morlock leader rasped furiously. "We have done only as you bid us to do! We destroyed the human factions once and for all!"
Apocalypse's only response was a brief nod. At that signal, Pestilence's lean face stretched into a gruesome smile. Hopping off her steed, the wiry woman approached Callisto with an outstretched hand.
"No—don't you touch me!" Callisto shrieked, scurrying backwards like a crab only to run straight into Famine's mechanical mount. The Morlock kicked out, but Pestilence caught her ankle in a sharp, lightening twist. The bone snapped. Callisto screamed in pain, but she continued to fight, scratching at her opponent's gaunt face with her sharp, metallic gloves. Pestilence snarled, her hand snaking out to seize Callisto's chin. At once, the Morlock's pale skin erupted in a rash of seeping ulcers. Her wild shrieks faded to a terrible, moaning whine as she twitched and writhed on the uneven concrete…and finally lay still.
Pestilence stood and brushed the soot and dust from her knees. Mesmero slowly backed away, visibly shaking in unconcealed terror.
"She will not touch you, fool," Apocalypse rumbled from above, causing the green-skinned mutant to jump. "Stand and face me."
"Wha—what does my m-master wish of me?" Mesmero stammered, straightening his shoulders with obvious effort.
"Yours is the power to control minds," Apocalypse stated. "You can replace the memories of your foes with images of your own creation. Go to the lair of the X-Men. Slip into their thoughts and dreams. Convince them to accept you as one of them, then report back to me. Do this, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and face the same fate as the brash Morlock Callisto."
Mesmero looked up, his eyes wide but determined. "I will not fail you, master," he said, his voice rough with barely suppressed fear. "The X-Men will not be able to resist my power."
"Wanna bet," Wolverine growled under his breath. Nightcrawler touched his shoulder, gesturing for him to join him deeper in the shadows.
"We cannot let Mesmero leave here," the German whispered once they were far enough away. "We must stop him now—catch him off guard before he has a chance to focus his thoughts."
"No kiddin'," Wolverine grunted. "But the bozo's surrounded by Horsemen—not to mention ol' Poccy up there."
"I've already alerted Cyclops," Nightcrawler said. "He and the others should get here within fifteen minutes."
"So all we gotta do is hold 'em off 'till then." Wolverine smirked, a fierce gleam in his eye. "No sweat."
"I'll grab Mesmero and 'port him into the jet's holding cell," Nightcrawler said. "You'll have to distract the others until I get back. And don't forget—those mechanical beasts can fly."
"Got it," Wolverine nodded. "You ready?"
Nightcrawler looked into his friend's eyes, reading the determination there. He smiled, trying to display more confidence than he felt. "Ready."
"Then let's go!"
Wolverine charged from their hiding place with a primal roar, extending his claws with a fierce, metallic SNIKT! The conspirators turned in alarm. Taking advantage of their brief confusion, Nightcrawler teleported into the circle of Horsemen and clasped his strong arms around Mesmero from behind. Barely an instant later, the two of them were gone in a BAMF of sulfurous smoke, vanishing just as Wolverine rammed his way into their midst. Famine and Pestilence fell off their steeds at the impact, causing Apocalypse to roar in frustration.
"Don't just sit there, fools!" he shouted from above. "Destroy him!"
War kicked his steed into motion. Wolverine swiped at the monster's flank as it rose into the air, the squeak of its metallic joints accompanied by the Horseman's cold laughter. Infuriated by the sound, Wolverine turned on the Horseman's companions. Famine managed to scramble back onto his mount, but Pestilence hesitated a split-second too long. She reached out to touch Wolverine's arm, but the raging mutant was too quick. He caught the deadly Horsewoman with a swift jab to the gut, her toxic blood sizzling as it burnt the skin of his fist. Pestilence's long jaw dropped and she sank to the ground beside Callisto's unmoving body, leaving the way open for Wolverine to commandeer her mechanical steed.
That soon turned out to be a mistake. The instant he was on its back, the metal monster leaped into the air, bucking and kicking for all it was worth. Wolverine had to sink his claws into the creature's neck in order to keep from being flung off. That distraction allowed the remaining Horsemen time to regroup. As Wolverine fought desperately for control of his steed, War and Famine rose to flank him on both sides. He was trapped, unable to use his claws without risking a twenty-foot drop onto the flaming concrete below.
ZZAPP-PING!
A bolt of orange energy tore a smoking hole in the side of War's steed, sending the Horseman spinning out of control. Famine left the struggling Wolverine to dive after the shooter. Wolverine strained to look over his shoulder, only to grin when he spotted the distinctive flash of Nightcrawler's teleport far below. If Nightcrawler was back, that meant Mesmero was safely stashed in the X-Jet. Apocalypse's plan to infiltrate the X-Men had been foiled before it had even begun. Now, all they had to do was get out of this skirmish alive.
While Wolverine continued his fight with Pestilence's steed, Nightcrawler made his stand on the ground. The cavalry was coming, but there was no guarantee they'd arrive in time. Even at their top speed, Cyclops and the others were at least ten minutes away. But Apocalypse was here now, and he was wide open. War had crashed some distance down the street, leaving only Famine to contend with. If Nightcrawler was careful and he played his cards right, there was a chance the threat posed by Apocalypse could be ended that very night.
Apocalypse was an instigator. He observed from the sidelines, disdaining to involve himself in the chaos he created. Standing there in the smoking rubble of what once had been Wall Street, Nightcrawler was determined that this time he wouldn't get away with it.
Grasping the laser gun he'd taken from the X-Jet's weapon stores, Nightcrawler tracked Famine's steed as the emaciated Horseman came hurtling through the darkening sky straight towards him. He was fully aware that Apocalypse was watching from his vantage point high on the concrete block—in fact he was counting on it. Waiting for the last possible moment, Nightcrawler squeezed the trigger, teleporting an instant before the orange energy burst hit. It impacted with a terrific explosion as he reappeared directly in front of Apocalypse, his gun aimed at the enormous mutant's bald, gray forehead.
It was a spectacularly daring move, and if Nightcrawler had used it against any other criminal mastermind it would have been the perfect show-stopper. Unfortunately, Apocalypse was far quicker than his massive build implied. The moment Nightcrawler appeared before him, the ancient metamorph grabbed the gun with lightening reflexes, ripping it out of Kurt's hand with such fierceness it took a chunk of skin along with it. Nightcrawler gasped in surprised pain, frozen in place as he found himself suddenly staring down the barrel of his own laser gun. Apocalypse laughed—a cold, dangerous sound. In that moment, Kurt Wagner was certain he was going to die.
"You insect," Apocalypse spat, growing taller with each contemptuous word. "Do you not know who I am? I am En Sabah Nur! Your pathetic trickery may have hindered my Horsemen, but it cannot fool me. I am the first of my kind, and I shall also be the last."
"Not if I have anythin' to say about it, bub!"
Nightcrawler and Apocalypse both looked up in surprise just in time to see a speeding silver blur come rocketing towards them. It rammed into Apocalypse's side, knocking the gleaming blue giant off balance, then swerved back for Nightcrawler.
"Gott sei dank!" Kurt gasped as he leapt onto the back of Wolverine's metallic steed. "For a while there, I truly thought I was a dead man."
"This show ain't over yet, Elf," Wolverine said, bringing the beast around for another pass. "Cyke and the guys'll be here any second. We gotta keep ol' Poccy occupied 'till then."
Nightcrawler started to respond, only to gasp in alarm. Apocalypse was back to his original size, and he was aiming the laser gun directly at Wolverine's head!
"Logan, get down!" he shouted, shoving his friend against the steed's silvery neck. There was a blinding orange flash, and suddenly Kurt was falling unconscious through the air.
"NO!" Logan roared, forcing the beast into a lightning turn. But it was clear he would not be fast enough to catch the unconscious acrobat...
To Be Continued...
Stay Tuned!