Chapter One: Wild Is the Wind

The Windy City wasn't windy. It was an irony that Shadowcat appreciated. The night was still, all of Chicago tucked tight in their beds, never suspecting that mischief was afoot. High above the oh-so-still streets that echoed every heart beat and mugging, she crept. Much like her namesake, she was a shadow, weaving in and out of the hidey holes conveniently built into the roofs. She had a job to do, and as a mutate she would do it, no questions.

Mutate. No longer mutant. To be a mutant was to acknowledge that you have once been something else, something human, but Shadowcat no longer knew that. She was a mutate. Complete and separate from humanity. There was no comparison. She went by her codename, barely remembering a time when she had been anything but. She had dreams; however, as if only in sleep could she seek those small comforts. She'd once had a mother, and a father, and friends. Now, she was tool. An extension of her leader's power, meant to do his bidding, which she did, gladly.

Of course, it wasn't always pleasant, doing what her people demanded of her. Dangling off a thirty story building in the middle of winter wasn't really her idea of fun, but what was asked of her...

Above her, her partner loosens the rope, sliding her down another three stories. Lost in her thoughts, she'd miscounted. "Down one more," Shadowcat whispers into her communicator, a small device underneath the skin just inside her lip. It wasn't detectable, one of their best works of technology, as it was also a tracking device. In an emergency situation, it could be bitten out and spit onto the ground to leave a trail or to keep it from being found. Some of their scientists were discussing adding a small cyanide pill; just in case.

Shadowcat slid down smoothly, not even glancing up at her partner, one of few mutates she trusted with her life. Dangling hundreds of feet in the air, damn right she trusted him. Glancing around into the inky darkness (the streetlights were very, very far below and the moon was nowhere in sight), Shadowcat sighed. Now came the hard part. The window in front of her was touch sensitive. She could phase through it, but not with the climbing gear and rope attached. She would just phase through the window and take it off there, but her phasing ability had recently evolved into a spherical shape, meaning that after a foot, the rope wasn't in the field, thus was solid and would set off the alarm.

Shadowcat slowly slipped out of the harness, grasping the rope in her small, but steady fist. Then, she began to swing gently as if in a non-existent breeze. Closer to the window, until she was a mere hair away, and then she let go of the rope and floated through. Inside, cameras on a rail circled and swiveled in random patterns. At no second was the room not monitored. With a sweep of her hand through the fuse box just inside the window (but on the opposite wall of the door...after all, who would come in through the window thirty stories up?), Shadowcat shut down all electricity in the room, which meant the security system, the lights, and the safe. Since all were on the same fuse, normally this would screw any robbery attempt at the safe, which was electronically/vocally powered...however, what if you could walk through walls?

Shadowcat strode quietly, almost with no sound, to the large vault hidden behind a Chinese panel. You'd think Warren Worthington II would have been smarter, would have tried to hide it, but arrogance begets fools.

She phased through and if possible, it was darker in there than outside. Thanks to genetic engineering, she didn't need a flashlight. She wasn't called Shadowcat for nothing. Moving with quick and sparse movements, she wound her way around the priceless antiques, the glass encased jewels, and made her way to the small velvet box on a shelf near the back. It was hardly bigger than a child's jewelry box, but their leader had sent them halfway across the world to retrieve it, as soon as word had reached them that it'd been found.

Shadowcat flipped the box open to be sure it was the right object, and as the small, sparkling ruby-like gem glinted at her she whispered through the comm., "I got it. Meet me downstairs."

"You've got company."

Shadowcat slid the gem into a pocket inside her shirt, making sure that no bump was clear in the tight body suit. There wasn't, the jewel was completely hidden in her cleavage. "Who?"

"Mutants...a team, civilian. Clear leadership, and training. I suggest no confrontation."

"Agreed. Shadowcat out."

"Wisdom out."

Shadowcat debated how to go about this, but finally shrugged...and sank through thirty stories within seconds. Normally, someone would die when they did this, since dropping through the Earth's pressure so fast would cause oxygen to form in their blood, much like divers who rise to the surface to fast. However, because Shadowcat's phasing field slid her out of alignment with reality, the pressure didn't affect her. As she sensed Earth's gravity was pulling at her less, she slowed, until she was on the first floor and then she stopped. It wasn't as easy as it once had been, to be corporeal. Years of wear and tear had made it so that her natural state was to be intangible. It was almost always a struggle to come back, not just to the physical part. Mentally she delighted in being free of physical confines, to float without gravity or weight to hold her. To fly free, without rule, leader, or hope. Those were not mutate feelings though, so she shoved them down where they would not be detected.

Outside the door, a man was also lowering himself from a rope. He, on the other hand, was not so lucky with the gravity thing. Shadowcat hurried to help him stand as he landed and fell to his knees. His chest was smoking and he ripped off his jacket as it started to burn.

"What happened?" Shadowcat demanded.

"One of the team shot some pretty sparks and hit me. I'm fine, thanks," Wisdom replied sarcastic. They'd been partners for a year, and despite not liking each other, they worked well together. Banter and playing aside, he was hurt and it was her duty to make sure he was taken care of.

"Where's transport?"

"Not coming. Said it was too risky."

"He's a chicken shit, that's it."

Wisdom smiled and his angular, gruff face softened. "No arguments here."

Shadowcat sighed and looked up as she heard a whisper of wind. "It's not windy tonight."

"So?"

"So we're getting home the hard way."

"Awww...I hate that."

Shadowcat smiled, and it was evil. "Got another suggestion?"

"I have one, child..." A deep, slightly accented voice called from above. With a rush of wind, a tall African woman landed, her short arctic white hair ruffled by the wind. "Hand over what you stole."

Shadowcat turned and watched as the light of recognition lit across Storm's face. "Can't do that." Then, grabbing Wisdom's hand, she phased into the ground, and kept going...through rock, through magma, through gas, and the super hot liquid core of the Earth. Shadowcat took them through parts of the Earth that had never known the presence of a living person, and then she took them back. She took them all the way across the world and into relative safety that was Indonesia. Back in Chicago, Storm could do nothing but stare.

"You alright, Stormy?"

"Gambit...I think I just saw something, I could not possibly have seen."

The Cajun looked around at the empty street and lit up his cigarette. "Gambit don' see not'in."

"The intruders are gone. I must talk to the professor."

As Storm brushed past him, he sighed. Some things are never the same, and some things, they never change.

Shadowcat stalked into the Citadel, not happy. Seeing this, fellow mutates scattered, all save a few. Shadowcat's rage was legendary, and her violence spoken of in whispers.

"What's wrong, Kitty?" Cyclops asked, looking up from where he studied a series of camera shots, marking down who did well and who didn't, as mutants were tested in separate holding cells. It was imperative that only the strong survive and to do that, mutants had to be rigorously tested. To go from mutant to mutate was to be elite.

"Nothing. I completed the mission."

Rogue sighed and looked down from where she floated above them, her trench coat trailing just above head level. "Ya're lookin' more pissy that a cat locked in the closet."

"They were there."

Jean rose from her seat beside Scott and approached Shadowcat. Her face was still smooth with youth, but her eyes spoke volumes of what she'd been through. She asked, "Who?" though she already knew.

Shadowcat's face turned darker. "X-Force."

"Professor Xavier and Magneto's team?" Rogue asked as she finally set her feet onto the floor. There was an unreadable look to her face, a look Shadowcat recognized, but she hoped Cyclops and Jean did not. Shadowcat and Rogue were still as close as they'd ever been, going through the "process" of the past three years together. Though Shadowcat trusted her partner Wisdom with her life, she only trusted her soul with Rogue.

"Yes. Storm saw me."

"You were told to keep that from happening," Scott scolded.

She glared at him. "I'm aware of that. I was preoccupied with my injured partner. I don't believe she got a good look. In fact," she continued snidely, "I highly doubt it." Shadowcat's relationship with Rogue had not changed in three years, but her relationship with the others had. The X-Men were no more, not in spirit or body. The procession of mutant to mutate had changed people, made them other than what they were. Made some mean, made some quiet, and made some insane.

"He'll want us to check it out," Jean asked, wringing her hands. The worried woman persona was a façade, one the redhead adopted easily. Jean specialized in costumes, in deception. Shadowcat learned that early on in this life, so she watched skeptically as Scott calmed Jean with a hand on her shoulder.

"Allow me to speak with him...Rogue, debrief Shadowcat. When you're done, put her through a simulation. Make sure there are no lasting effects." Lasting effects, defined in the Citadel as subversive thoughts. It was essential that one always watch what you think. You never know who is listening in.

"Yessir," Rogue replied leading Kitty away and into a darkened hall. Behind them, Jean studied their minds, her illusion of concern gone. She curled her arm around Scott and allowed the light of his mind to soften the edges of her own.

"She's shaken, but not too much," Jean replied aloud to his unspoken question.

"And Rogue?"

"As unreadable as ever. He thinks she's plotting something. She was never as comfortable with our situation as the rest of us."

Scott sighed. "Assign someone to watch her. We can't have a leak early. It would ruin the effect. I'm going to talk to the leader, keep things running smoothly?" Scott smiled, brushing a kiss against Jean's cheek before walking away. Jean's eyes went cold with fire as he turned from her.

Jean smiled, but it was bitter. He was complacent here. Believing all she said. It wasn't Rogue he really had to worry about.