Every X-Man has at one time or another been an adversary and I have fought nearly all of them, however, none have left me feeling betrayed, until Legion. It was single combat and I used my powers to their fullest, yet my efforts were simply shrugged off.
When he finally deigned me worthy of his full attention he pulled me from our battle and placed me in Egypt, seconds before a wounded fighter plane would crash into my family's brownstone, shattering my world. I can comfortably move at sub-sonic speeds, however, there are streams that I can tap into that allow me to break the sound barrier; because of the possible effects that this will have on the environment I never do this, however that day my desperation lent no care to any atmospheric repercussions.
I did not make it in time.
I have always known that I suffer from profound grief due to the loss of my parents, but until that I day I did not know the nature of the grief, the shear desperation involved. I relive that moment in my mind everyday and if given thechance again, I would destroy the fighter jet without concern for the pilot.
In this planning I have rationalized that he was a killer, that his life was forfeit anyway and that to save two is better than to lose three. However, I have realized that if it were a commercial flight, filled with innocents I would have given every drop of my energy to turn that airplane into cinders.
I bear some of the responsibility forLegion's actions; if not for my blind intent to save my parents, it is most probable that he would not have made the decision to eliminate the major opposition to his fathers dream.
We are back at the Madison Cybil; the most inappropriate of headquarters but with nothing more suitable we must take the risk.
"Where do we find Ellison?" I ask Heather, she is sitting on the edge of one of the king sized bed next to a harried Davis.
"I don't know," she says without looking up. I can sense her resentment; she is angry because of her brother's involvement. While fate is responsible for her mutation, Sage and myself are accountable for the change in Davis.
"Everything is like a dream, fuzzy." Davis say, both hands clutching each side of his head.
"You'll have to be psyscanned," Psylocke says casually, without moving a muscle.
"No!" Heather screams, jumping to her feet. "People have been screwing around inside of our heads for too long and Storm is the last person I'll let supervise my brothers lobotomy!"
"This isn't about you being bloody comfy!" Psylocke screams moving closer to confront Heather. "There are other people out there who would fancy being saved! Sometimes you have to swallow it and take one for the team!"
"They can't be psyscanned," David says, off to the side, observing us.
Davis looks up for the first time, he isn't crying but his cheeks are red streaked.
"The second a telepath tries to access Davis or Heathers memories they'll make themselves especially vulnerable to Shadow King's attack."
"Aren't your powers sufficient enough to combat Shadow King?" I ask, facing him.
"I am easily more powerful than Shadow King but in terms of skill I am no match for him, under the stress of an electromagnetic field, coupled with the internal resistance from Davis and Heather I was able to free them. If I were to enter their minds," he stops to hesitate. "Well, the outcome would be much different."
"No offense darling, but I must ask; why then are you here, I mean how exactly are you our big gun?" Betsy says, looking from the floor and to our general direction.
"Well," he says, making eye contact with her and smiling wryly. "Judging from the soporific effectShiar Barbie here had on you gals earlier; I think my cannons came just in the nick."
Betsy squints her eyes and smiles slightly, obviously intrigued by his candor.
"It looks like your boyfriend isn't going to wait for us to come to him," Emma says, interrupting us. "There's a … situation in the lobby."
I notice the expression on Legions face; he looks down and to the right.
"Storm," he says, looking into my eyes. "We already have casualties."
I feel hopeless while I allow the lightning to charge out of my body, transforming my street clothes into my uniform. The chance I took was incredible, setting us up in a hotel.
Cocksure, Legion bursts through the threshold of the stairway and into the main lobby, where it seems everyone has been slaughtered.
A thin, frail hand reaches and touches him; Legion falls to his knees and he looks as if he is fighting back a flood of vomit.
Scramble places himself in front of Legion, looking into all of us and smiling proudly.
It worries me that Legion does not hesitate at all; he instinctively thrusts his hands forward to touch Scrambler allowing the influx of power to obliterate him from existence.
Smoke silhouettes around Legion and he falls forward.
The rest of the Marauders come from their respective hiding places, looking maniacally joyful.
"You chumps can kill us," Harpoon says, resting his large weapon on his left shoulder. "Sinister's got our backs."
"It must be some kind of blind loyalty," Psylocke quips. "No matter how often you buggers are smashed he keeps sending you back."
Without another word, Scalphunter takes quick aim and shoots; the projectile turns into a pure purple energy blast.
Psylocke raises a forcefield to block the blast but when the blast hits her forcefield the field folds backwards, reforming into a wall of force. Betsy is thrown against the stairs and knocked unconscious.
"Two down baby," Scalphunter yells, guffawing.