Author's Note – I do not own any of the characters, Marvel and DC do.
Translations are by Google Translate.

This chapter has been released early to celebrate the release of Book 6 of the Chicago Sentinels series, Small Town Heroes by Marion G. Harmon.

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Chapter Twelve

Portents

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Mesmero leaned against a large metal container and watched as the final drops of the glowing liquid in the vial vanished into the complicated machinery attached to the metal sarcophagus that held the rightful ruler of the world. After a long moment, the glow of the pod faded, then the top cracked open, folding back and starting to fold down . A moment later, a voice growled something that only Sinister understood.

"أنا توقظ"

"What was that?" Mesmero whispered.

"Arabic." Sinister replied as the blue-skinned figure in the pod sat up. "Excuse me for a moment."

"حضور لي عبدي المخلصين"

Sinister bowed and Apocalypse reached out, placing a hand on his head. After a moment, he nodded.

"I live once again! You have done well, my trusted one."

"Thank you, my master." Sinister murmured as he stepped back, allowing Apocalypse to swing round and set his feet on the ground, rising from the altar that had once contained him.

"Where is my Armour Eternal?"

Recognising his cue, Mesmero moved to one side and flipped the latch on the side of the box. Apocalypse smirked as the door slowly swung open, revealing a suit of dark blue and silver armour which had not been forged on Earth.

"I took the liberty of modifying it to work with your new powers, my master." Sinister said as Apocalypse strode forwards. "As I am certain you saw from my memories while learning the new tongue of the world, the world has… changed somewhat."

"Then once I am clad in my armour once more, tell me what has transpired in my absence."

"As you command, my master." Sinister smiled. "The world awaits your leadership."

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Charles panted as he let the circlet drop from his shaking hands.

"What happened?"

"May." Charles said in relief as the worried woman approached. "I… I sensed… something, something ancient has awoken. Something… terrible."

May frowned. "Will you warn the others? The Avengers, the Rangers…?"

"Once I've recovered, yes." Charles said, leaning back and wiping his brow. "The being I detected… I've never felt such… such… power, but power in service purely to itself."

"Service to itself?" May Parker repeated. "As in… self-centered?"

"More than anything I have ever encountered before." Charles said soberly. "It was as if… as if it thought of itself as a god and the rest of us as insects."

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Stryker's eyes widened as the emissary from Master Mold walked into the clearing before stopping, its helmet seeming to fragment before retracting into the raised collar of the armoured suit, revealing a familiar face.

"Trask?"

"Sir." Trask replied, snapping to attention and saluting. Stryker stared at him, noting the dark green armour plating covering most of him.

"Nice outfit."

"Thank you, sir." Trask said, then his gaze unfocused for a minute. Holding out his left hand, a hologram formed in his palm.

"General Stryker, I am Master Mold." The holographic figure proclaimed. "You wished to negotiate a treaty between us."

"Yes, I did." Stryker said, regaining his mental equilibrium. "It is my belief that mutants are a threat that must be controlled and re-directed for the good of humanity as a whole."

"Your position does not appear to conflict with my directives." Master Mold noted. "What is your plan and what resources do you believe would aid in it?"

"I have access to a type of control chip which can be used to gain full control of mutants." Stryker said, motioning to Deathstryke. "However, it is capturing the mutants for the implantation of the chip that is… problematic."

"You believe that the utilisation of Sentinels to capture mutants will aid you." Master Mold deduced and Stryker nodded.

"I also have access to a number of wounded former soldiers. Many are missing limbs. Given that Trask is a cyborg…"

"How did you know that?" Trask asked and Stryker smiled mirthlessly.

"The fact you held still a little too well." Stryker noted. "Even when standing at attention, people still sway slightly. You didn't. Plus what Master Mold said about saving your life. So, Master Mold, can you aid with cybernetic prosthetics?"

"Artificial limbs can be provided, but a sample of the Kryptonian medical nanites would allow for superior integration of machine and flesh."

"I shall have my contacts secure some." Stryker said with a grin. "When can you send the first group of robotic Sentinels?"

"Four groups, each led by a Decanii, are available for deployment now." Master Mold replied. "When and where do you require them?"

Stryker's grin grew positively demonic.

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"I will need a new army." Apocalypse mused as he looked out of the panoramic window at the setting sun. "Alhough many of my Golems still remain beneath the ground awaiting my command to rise, I have lost many, many more to the ravages of time."

"I have already put things into motion, my master." Sinister bowed. "While copying and refining the powers that you now possess, I also discovered how to negate them, both temporarily and permanently. I also learned how to cancel the negation."

Apocalypse's gaze shifted to Sinister's reflection and one brow cocked in a silent prompt to continue.

"Despite the example of Clark Kent, also known as Superman, many mutants are still hated and reviled, shunned and outcaste." Sinister continued. "By going public with a cure, they will flock to us and we will be able to choose from amongst their numbers those who are useful enough to serve you as your new armies. Given the number of powers, there may even be those worthy of becoming your new Horsemen."

Apocalypse slowly nodded. "You plan well, my seneschal."

"Thank you, my lord."

Apocalypse returned his gaze to the darkening sky. "I will need Horsemen who are… unique."

"I have prepared a list of those I believe to have the most potential, my master." Sinister said as he pulled out a file and placed it on the table. Apocalypse turned and strode over, reaching out to open the file. After several minutes of reading each sheet, he placed four of the sheets on the table.

"Make your plans to capture these three and bring the fourth when it is time. They shall become my heralds. I will personally prepare their ascension."

"As you command, my master." Sinister said, picking up the sheets before leaving. Once he was gone, Apocalypse held up his hand and clenched it, surrounding it with coruscating energy.

"I shall claim my rightful throne and none shall stop me. I shall become a god."

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Mesmero looked at Sinister curiously as they walked down the hall.

"I have to ask, how are you going to go public with a cure? Magneto thinks that you're dead and should you reappear…"

Sinister handed over one of the sheets and Mesmero looked at it curiously.

"I happen to know that until recently, the father of that man has been seeking a cure for mutations. Only recently has he come to realise that not all mutants are evil."

"I don't follow." Mesmero admitted.

"The research is still continuing, albeit at a slower pace, and we shall go there tonight." Sinister smirked. "We will ensure that their department has the breakthrough that they are no longer frantically searching for and with your aid, one of my former pawns, whose child was the result of one of my experiments, will be ready to be re-activated."

For a long moment, Mesmero was silent, then his face creased into a wicked grin. Sinister smirked at his expression.

"Soon, we will stand by the sides of our master and we will live however we please with no-one to force us otherwise."

Mesmero's grin widened.

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"So, what exactly happened to you?" Stryker asked, passing a cup of coffee to his newest ally.

"Creed." Trask snarled. "You know that he was behind the Sentinels?"

Stryker nodded.

"Well, it turned out that he was a hypocrite with that whole anti-mutant thing of his." Trask continued, pausing to take a sip. "Wow, this is a good cup of joe. Anyway, I did some research and found out that his parents were Victor Creed, also known as Sabertooth, and Raven Darkholme…"

"Mystique." Stryker stated. "The one who married Superman recently."

Trask nodded and took another sip. "Damn, this is good. Haven't had coffee like this in years. Anyway, once I found out about his parents, I made plans to kill the damned mutie spawn and take over. Your offer of support was the last thing I required and so I tried to kill him. I succeeded, but I hadn't realised that the bastard kept a holdout pistol with soft-tip poison-filled bullets. He only managed to get me once, but it was enough."

Stryker winced.

"I landed on the assembly line, but Master Mold shut it down before the machines could finish me off. Due to the poison and the damage I took falling off the control platform, I'm now forty-two percent mechanical… what?"

"Forty-two." Stryker said, forcing his chuckles to abate. "Sorry, have you read Douglas Adams?"

Trask closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "The Answer. Right."

"Sorry."

"So… as I was saying, while fifty-eight percent of me is still my original organics, I was upgraded. My muscles now incorporate linear actuators, my skeleton is reinforced and I have microsensors that augment my sight, hearing and touch at will. I can also uplink to Master Mold or the Sentinel databank in realtime, letting me interface with any Sentinel in the field."

Stryker whistled. "And M-M's request for the nanomachines?"

"Improved interfacing." Trask said with another shrug. "If Master Mold had had access to the nanomachines, my nerve transmission speed would have been boosted by almost two-hundred percent rather than the ninety-six percent improvement I did gain."

"I see." Stryker mused. "So, by supplying these nanomachines, I would have access to more like you?"

"Prime Sentinels." Trask nodded. "Humans augmented in order to fight and defeat mutants."

"For the good of all humanity." Styker agreed.

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"…and so there we were." Clark laughed as he entered the mansion, the other students listening to him intently as they followed, "Him holding his empty gun, the bullets scattered at my feet, then he looks behind me and goes 'Hey, look, a distraction!'"

"He what?" Ray chortled and Clark nodded.

"Now, whenever someone points at something, the natural tendancy is to look, so of course, I started to turn before I realised what he had said, so I turned back and he's dropped the gun and was half-way to the fire exit. I moved into his way and he stops, looks at me, gives a little shrug and says 'Well, it was worth a try.'" Clark finished.

"Hey, look, a distraction." Tabitha giggled. "Nice."

"Welcome back, Clark." Xavier said as he floated into the entrance hall. "Where's Mystique?"

"She had to check on the Brotherhood." Clark said with a slight shrug. "We've had Heimdall install a Door connecting her quarters and mine, so she'll probaby pop up soon."

Xavier nodded. "That explains why he was here earlier. Wanda was curious about joining the Brotherhood. She says, quite understandably, that the way we run things here reminds her too much of the place where she was previously. The fact that the word Institute is in the name doesn't help."

"I'll relay the request to Mystique as soon as I see her." Clark promised. "Anything unusual happen while I was away?"

"We've had it confirmed that Magneto has a clone of Kara." Xavier sighed. "She attacked a jet in Japan."

"I think I saw that." Clark noted "I considered helping, but Cir and Mon seemed to have it under control."

"Shirley and Lar, they go by now."

"Okay," Clark mused, "I can see how Cir-El became Shirley, but how do you get Lar from Mon-El?"

"His civilian identity is Lar Grand." Xavier supplied. "Apparently it was the result of… well, I don't know all the details, but apparently Kryptonians can get drunk, and get very nasty hangovers the next day."

Clark blinked.

"Even Mon-El doesn't really know how he ended up as Lar Grand, but he's accepted it as his new public name." Xavier stated. "As for the new Kryptonian clone…"

"Her name is Galatea." A new voice interjected and everyone turned to see Nick Fury standing in the doorway, flanked by Captain America and Supergirl. "According to our source in Latveria, Galatea is a forced-maturation clone who has been implanted with a device which Magneto can control remotely. If she tries anything he doesn't like, he can inflict large amounts of pain on her or even kill her. Fortunately, there's only one of her, the other clones based on her were destroyed when she went on a rampage. Good thing too, Lensherr was building a damned legion of them."

Xavier sighed. "Erik, my old friend, how far are you willing to fall?"