A/N: Hey everyone. Thanks for checking in once again to another chapter of Season 2, and I hope it's as satisfying for you as the last ones have been.
The next chapter focuses more on Wolvie and the X-Mansion, although the Strike team will be back in the fold this time. If you enjoy, read and review! Your support is what keeps me going. It sounds cheesy, I know, but it's true. It's so much easier to write when I get your feedback, be it positive or constructive criticism.
Captain Lycan: Thanks! I feel that some of what I've done would not get in a kids show/a show with kids as a large portion of the viewership, with Riptide and Omega Red being the biggest offenders. And yes, Mojo's biggest flaw is that he cannot acknowledge his own mistakes or just quit while he's ahead, the way that some executives will try and milk a franchise to the point it's no longer entertaining as it once was.
Mild trigger warning: One scene may possibly remind some viewers of torture or certain kinds of abuse (I promise it is neither of those things, but some things may unintentionally be similar).
Unknown Location, Outer Space, Present Day
Logic dictated that, aside from the necessities such as life support and the engines, there had to be more than an arena onboard this ship, Hank thought, as he narrowly dodged a swipe from one of the Wendigo creatures.
"Mojo can't have simply kidnapped us and taken us to outer space just to test our mettle in combat. There has to be another reason for us being here?"
"When you say us being here, are you referring to us being in outer space or is this a philosophical question?" Iceman quipped.
"Shut up, Bobby. That isn't helping."
"Whenever Mojo does a prank like this, he often engineers it so that he benefits himself and hurts as many parties as possible. Whatever he's planning, it can't be good," Nightcrawler muttered. "We'd better find out whatever it is he's doing before we're out of time."
It was at that point that three Marauders emerged from the cover of the woodlands, firing at the trio as they began to rush towards the centre. Immediately, the beasts ended up diverting their attention to the newcomers, roaring with rampant irritation after having pursued their prey for so long with little success.
BAMF. In the commotion, Nightcrawler managed to teleport in, grabbing one of the wristbands from the troopers just before he teleported away. Looking at it, he promptly slipped it over his wrist before grabbing both Iceman and Beast. A second later, the mutants had gone as the Marauders struggled to deal with the two monstrosities now in their ranks.
"Okay," Iceman said as the three of them re-emerged in a clearing. "We've stolen some property from security and left them to act as pest control. So now what do we do?"
Beast took the wristband off of Nightcrawler, instinctively pressing a button which revealed a map of the ship.
"I can't understand what half of this says," Beast noted. "It's in a language that doesn't even exist on Earth. However, given the basic layout of the average spaceship, I would guess that its engines would have to be towards here."
At these words, he pointed towards the rear of the spaceship.
"Whatever Mojo has planned, it's likely to be this way. Let's go!"
With these words, the three of them made an effort to run towards what they hoped was the engine room.
The Brig, Unknown Location, Present Day
From the brig of the ship, Mojo watched in anticipation as he saw his captives begin to edge their way towards the engine room.
"Sir, shall I deploy more guards to prevent them from reaching their destination? You did say that you wanted the X-Men to be utterly crushed once and for all?"
"And they shall be, my dear Spiral. However, it is absolutely necessary that the X-Men reach their intended destination, for I have integrated it into my plan. You see, Spiral, one thing I have noticed with television is that the villain must monologue to a participant, willing or unwilling. Since telling the X-Men is not what I would call desirable, I shall tell you instead. Are you ready to listen?"
At this, Mojo melodramatically stared into his lieutenant's eyes, the way that a dog would often attempt to emotionally appeal to its human master. As the "dog" in question was a morbidly overweight alien being with grotesque facial features, the resulting sight was not what many would call appealing.
"As ready as I'll ever be," the reluctant Spiral replied.
"Excellent! Once the X-Men reach their destination, it is my plan for the ship to rotate towards this planet here," he declared, hand gesturing towards a certain planet. "At this point, the engines shall be set to maximum and then have their speed fixed, with the hull being broken here, here aaaannddd... here. This shall ensure that the X-Men are left to the harsh vacuum of space and unable to prevent the following events. On my word, my operatives on the ground will hack and hijack all automated defences for the capital city after all defensive fleets have been severely damaged. At this point, you and I shall evacuate the ship, after which it shall collide with the capital building, wiping out the Council of the Spineless Ones and my many irritating viewers all in one stroke."
Spiral found her jaw dropping at this revelation.
"I can see your awestruck face. Pretty clever, eh?"
"...Sir. I have stood by you during the attempted kidnappings of heads of state, the abduction of mutants for slave labour and even abandoned a mutant child to sink in a damaged vessel. This, however, is confusing to me."
"Confusing? Surely you're not beginning to grow a conscience now," Mojo mused, eyebrows raised.
"Why would anyone simply hijack a council ship for such petty purposes? Why not simply leave an explosive at the Council's doorstep and be done with it?"
"Because after the Council is eliminated, several of my allies on the ground will leak footage onto the network. In the mad rush for answers, edited footage will show the X-Men entering the engine room and laying down some explosives. The public shall string them up as the villains in the piece for working alongside me, and within days Earth and the Council's remnants shall be at war. The X-Men will soon fall as casualties, and I'll have the last laugh once my world is ripe to conquer in the chaos."
The plan was certainly not something that Mojo had cooked up just that moment, although she was certain there would be holes in it.
"So, Spiral, are you with me, or has my devious and oh-so-horrific plan caused you to hypocritically grow a conscience? If it has, you're welcome to try and warn the Council, for all the good it will do. Just question whether or not your help will be taken into account, given your track records in my prior atrocities," he mocked, now fully aware that it was his turn to be scornful.
Spiral sat there for a moment, and sighed. She wanted to strangle her boss at that moment, she really did, but she knew that deep down, in spite of his warped behaviour, he was right. The Council would likely give her a quicker death and precious little else as her reward for co-operation.
"Let's get this over with."
"I knew you'd see things my way. Now come on, we have a ship to- what are they doing here?"
Back in the building where the X-Men had unwillingly arrived, another portal had opened, although this time it was obvious that the Marauders had not been the ones to use it, as the two unconscious bodies were dragged through, almost as if they were being levitated.
First to emerge from the portal was a mutant clad in a green top and leggings, with her equally green hair descending to her shoulders and arms raised, as she casually threw the Marauders to one side with her magnetism. Next to follow was Scarlet Witch, followed in turn by a determined Storm, who marched to the front of the trio as they exited for the woods. Each had a look of anger etched upon their faces.
Mojo angrily reached for the microphone, bellowing through the speakers.
"What are you doing here? Why are you ruining my plans?"
It was Storm that chose to reply first.
"I'm here to save my team. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Xavier Mansion, Present Day, Late Afternoon
For several moments, the X-Men sat in almost total silence, Wolverine still leaning on the casing that housed their comatose leader, for once lost for words.
Eventually, Rogue plucked up the courage to speak.
"What... what happened?"
"...I don't know," came the feeble reply, as Wolverine stared into space for a few moments.
"But I do know this," he declared, turning to face the X-Men. "Until we hear back from him, we have two new missions."
"Missions?" Kitty raised her eyebrows at this. "Logan, we don't know anything about what happened to the Professor, or where Ororo and the others are. How are we supposed to start?"
"Da," Piotr nodded. "He didn't even tell us what to do."
"We START by trackin' down Sinister," Wolverine growled. "Jean, I know that Beast and I agreed to let you rest, but desperate times call for desperate measures-"
"Will you stop using that to justify what we're doing? It makes me uncomfortable!" Forge butted in.
Logan merely glared at him. He understood that people had their reservations about the darker side of the X-Men's activities, both friend and foe, but right now he simply did not care. The closest thing that many members of the team had to a father figure could well be dead, and if they had to the team would go to almost any length necessary to bring him back. This time, he wasn't going to let people hold him back.
"Jean, go and power up Cerebro and try scannin' for his Marauders. He's most likely responsible for both these emergencies. If we find him, we might find the others."
Jean nodded, her hand leaving Scott's as she headed for the door. For a moment, her boyfriend looked hesitant to either part with her or let Logan force her into using Cerebro, but on this occasion he did not argue, head stiffly going up and down. There were no words, but it was clear that Cyclops was not happy about the situation, and the nod seemed to be his way of saying "just this once".
"Forge, I need files from the MRD on Sinister's last known location. Hack into their databases, and see if they have any leads."
The sound of the mechanical leg hitting the floor echoed as he stormed out.
"We can rely on him to do it this time, right?"
"He cares about Charles Xavier too much. He won't let us down, but I think he'll wanna punch me in the face for this. Everyone else, we're potentially mobilisin' for an operation and maybe headin' for one of these last known whereabouts. Wheels up in thirty."
With these words, the team filed out into the hallway, concerned and panicked looks etched upon their faces, until Wolverine and one other were left next to Xavier's prone form. For a moment, neither of them said a word or even looked at one another, until eventually the silence was broken and Cyclops found a face staring at him in the reflection of the container.
"You ain't happy with me, are ya, Summers?"
There was no answer.
"If it's any consolation, I'm not pleased with myself either for askin' Jean to boot up Cerebro."
Still nothing was said, although this time Wolverine caught a flicker of emotion as the other man registered what was being said. He was obviously angry, but was there something else deep inside that he didn't know about? Or was he getting too analytical and getting his hopes up, when he'd most likely be hit by an energy blast to the chest again?
"Y'know... Chuck's pretty capable. I'm sure that whatever it is, he can handle it," Logan muttered, risking one last attempt at a conversation.
This time, he seemed to have said something correctly, as Scott raised his head. He still didn't angle his eyes towards Wolverine, but he finally acknowledged that someone else was there.
"He was right, Logan," he mumbled.
"About what?"
"Putting you in charge during that time. He needed someone to make... unemotional decisions. I wasn't that guy, and I don't think I am now. I woulda made things worse."
The Canadian simply stood there and pondered what he'd just heard, dumbstruck yet again. That made two times in such a short period, he mentally noted. It took him a few seconds to think about what he said next, trying for once not to press one of his friend's buttons.
"Maybe no worse than I did, Summers."
At this point, Scott rose and turned to face him. Wolverine noted that he somehow seemed different. One moment, he had looked like he wanted to strangle someone. Now, he seemed to be the dutiful soldier that he had been destined to become. Maybe even a leader when I hang up the mantle, he thought to himself, although he made especially certain not to say any of this aloud. It wouldn't do for him to go all sentimental on Cyke, because it just wouldn't be... him.
"This whole thing's bigger than you and me, Logan. We can't afford to be at each others' throats, there's just too much at stake." For the umpteenth time in the conversation, there was a pause. "So whatever you need from me, you've got it."
The next moment, he offered his hand, and Logan shook it, the two turning to leave.
Cerebro Chamber, Present Day, Evening
Jean sat in the Cerebro chamber, struggling to operate the machinery as she found herself trying to remember how on earth she had done this beforehand. While she was by no means dealing with new technology, she was essentially trying to regain her bearings, the way that a person with a broken limb would struggle to do the tasks they used to after weeks or months of not using said limb. Months had passed since she had sat here, and even then the Professor had been in charge of Cerebro for the most part, with her instead on the battlefield with the rest of the team.
Slowly, cautiously, she put her hands on the flat screens and closed her eyes, doing her best to concentrate and clear her head of any distractions. It would do no good to have irrelevant thoughts stuck in her mind if she was to track down Sinister, although staying focused with a machine like Cerebro was easier said than done.
Through the sphere, barely visible images wisped through, their features undefined and covered in shadows. She persisted, doing her best to ignore them. It's somebody else. I can't afford to get distracted, she told herself. Sighing, she continued, focusing harder.
With no warning, a rapid succession of images flashed by in her head of Scott, although she swore that these weren't her memories. What was going on here?
"HELP."
The voice was not one she could easily identify, although she seemed to remember enough to panic and associate it with someone or something negative. Startled, she pulled her hands back from the flat screens, gasping in mild horror.
It took a moment for her to regain her composure, with a deep, cleansing breath. Doing her best to control herself and breathe slowly, she put her hands back down on the flat screens, this time feeling considerably calmer. She closed her eyes once again, and the wisps started to fade through the sphere again, this time with more human shapes and easier-to-read faces, although some of the detail was still missing.
At that point, Jean noticed that a solitary shadow now stood in the middle, growing larger as the others dispersed and shrank in size; it was almost as if the lone being was absorbing their life force and leaving them withered husks. Gradually, she could see the outline of a cape on a lean but strong body, and the shadow kept growing.
Something was wrong, this much she knew. Her body began shuddering as her eyes opened and her brow creased in terror. She wanted for someone to force her to leave the room, or for the machine to fail, but she knew that neither of those things were about to happen.
Like a vampire forming from inky mist, she was horrified to find the eerie face of Mister Sinister looking upon hers, an uncanny smirk upon his face that sent shivers down her spine.
"Hello, Jean. Searching for me?"
Jean found herself trying to wildly tear off the headgear, but her body seemed to disconnect from her mind at that point, and she felt herself almost going into a seizure as her limbs and muscles stiffened. Her breathing was strained and harsh.
Please... let me go. She wanted desperately to cry out, to scream at him to stop, but he was fully in control and she had no way of changing the situation.
The vaporous image that stood in front of her now slowly advanced, looming in front of her like a giant as it finally stopped growing, having finally reached the ceiling in height. His deep voice echoed through her mind, haunting her. Memories of laboratories and a winged predator flashed back through her mind, the various images of Scott now mixing with them to create a horrifying mix.
" Now... what would prompt you to..."
Sinister paused for a moment, clearly relishing the realisation that had struck him. An amused laugh escaped his lips.
"Ahh. There is something else, or someone, that you also seek. Yet you know something, don't you?"
She could only continue shuddering, unable to move.
"I can tell you now that, for once, I had nothing to do with the disappearance of Kurt Wagner, Robert Drake or Henry McCoy. Their whereabouts are completely unknown to me or my minions, although I have hazarded some guesses as to who is responsible. Nevertheless, this is not important to me." At this point, the smile disappeared, Sinister's expression now back to its usual emotionless state.
"I see you've learned about Apocalypse. And look at how you've come by this information. Well," he noted, a smile forming on his face.
"We can't have that."
With no warning, his projection lunged towards her, dispersing like mist around her body. As he did so, the power to the chamber suddenly seemed to have been drained away, darkness falling over the console.
For a moment, Jean remained stiffened, and then slumped into unconsciousness, her heart racing. The last thing she heard was faint, panicked shouting as she heard Logan, Piotr and Scott heading her way.
War Room, Present Day, Evening
Wolverine found himself sat by a console, tapping on screens as he considered their next plan of action. Hacking the MRD had not proved as productive as he had hoped. As it was, most of their leads and resources seemed to have been poured into tracking down Magneto, and as tempting as that sounded it wasn't something that they needed to do. For once, he was almost happy to let the Mardees do their little manhunt. The X-Men had their own affairs.
His thoughts briefly drifted to some heavily-encrypted files that Forge apparently hadn't been able to crack, before the screens in front of him flickered and went out. Shortly afterwards, the lights did the same in the room, doing so throughout the mansion and grounds. He heard Bobby groan in annoyance not far away and Ilyana shout something in Russian, but he had no time to deal with either of those disturbances. Rogue would likely be on hand to deal with both of them in any case. His priority was getting power back up and working out what was going on.
Red emergency lighting cloaked the war room as backup power finally kicked in, and as it did so he found himself staring at an obviously unnerved Cyclops, although for once he was doing his best to keep it in check.
"What the heck is going on?"
"My guess is it would be a power surge near Cerebro. Jean's down there!"
Sublevel Corridor, Present Day, Evening
Cyclops found himself at the door first, his unusually calm and composed state giving way as he desperately tried to break through several inches of reinforced steel and titanium.
"Jean?" His voice was still level, although it very briefly wavered. Hearing no answer, his hand went to his visor, cranking it and aiming it at the door, releasing a prolonged blast in an effort to break in. The door dented inwards, but refused to budge. He growled, persisting with his efforts.
By the time that Piotr and Logan had joined him, they found the door being ripped open as he removed his visor in desperation, firing full blast and tearing the metal to pieces. Quickly, he shut his eyes and ran into the chamber, putting his visor back on and towards Jean, who was by now slumped over the console. As he got to her, he gently leant her back, not wanting to potentially do further harm.
"Jean... are you okay?"
A stirring groan was his reply. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know that she was still alive.
"What happened in here?" Wolverine barked. It was clear that his anger masked a mixture of concern for his comrades and fear for what would happen next.
"Sinister... he reached through Cerebro somehow. He... he knows about Charles."
For a second, there was a stunned silence. Immediately afterwards, a loud crash broke said silence as something burst through the roof of the Mansion's upper floors.
Xavier Mansion, Evening
Kitty Pride was the first person to see the face carved from stone, uncanny white eyes and metallic wings break through the roof and top two floors, as the being tilted its wings to flip itself in the air and landed on its feet to stop on the floor below her. She quickly found herself struggling to keep her composure as Archangel looked at its surroundings emotionlessly, the way that a trained predator looked for prey.
"Warren..."
Taking a deep breath to try and reassure herself, she phased down to land right behind him and made an effort to leap onto his back. It was to no avail, as Archangel flicked a wing and sent her flying towards the wall, which she phased through.
The immediate challenge repelled, Archangel turned its attention now towards the priority target, stabbing both wings into the floor and rending metal somewhere beneath the flooring. Now the pair of wings spread, opening a hole with surprisingly little resistance from the reinforced sublevel, theoretically designed to hold enemies back. As the last part of the hole was opened, loud footsteps came down the stairs across the room, at which point Archangel took flight and fired a barrage of feathers towards the noise. Rogue managed to duck and avoid the projectiles, just as her attacker looped around and dived through the hole.
Rogue is not the priority target. The priority target is down in the sublevels, droned Archangel mentally, the same monotonous pattern that had been programmed into its mind now taking over as it flew towards its target, briefly stopping to pierce another hole in the ceiling. There was the loud sound of metal spearing on metal as Archangel landed, its target on the other side of the room it had now landed in.
The interior Cerebro chamber was surprisingly empty, Archangel noted. Normally, one would have expected Beast or Forge to be down here, although he knew that the former was presently missing and the latter had likely been occupied with something time-consuming. It didn't matter, it realised, as it drew up towards the comatose body of Charles Xavier, which was resting peacefully in the bubble that he now remembered.
As the distance to the container got smaller, a pair of metallic wings rose up, preparing to strike down-
SHRAKK.
The muffled sound of Cyclops' energy beams could be heard as the mutant tried breaking through the doors, which eventually bowed to the force. Emotionless as always, Archangel straightened, lifted its wing, aimed it at the capsule, and brought it down hard.
Well, there goes another chapter. I'd been hoping to release this by the end of March, but I kept questioning where I should stop and kept adding more stuff in as a result, so that's just how it went.
Thanks for staying with me once again, everyone. Once again, leave a review, favourite the story and share it with your friends. As usual, the place to be is the "1 Million to Save Wolverine and the X-Men" page on Facebook. Until next time, hopefully not too long, take care!