Chapter 30: The Final Trumpet

Though the secret burned in her as much as the power of the Phoenix did, Sabere said nothing. She wasn't sure even Xavier knew beyond his suspicions – if he didn't know the truth, he didn't want it.

The mansion was busy plotting their final stand. Apocalypse was still enjoying his unchallenged reign, and none of the world's governments had made any attempt to threaten him. Sabere suspected they were all waiting for the X-Men. It was strange, she thought bitterly, that the rest of the world was so anxious to idolize the X-Men when they were the last hope. When everything went back to normal, she supposed they'd just be freaks again.

And, ironic above all, their last hope was the cure that had been intended for them.

The sample Xavier had requested had been placed in a makeshift bomb, assembled roughly by Scott and Kitty. He had gathered the team and was explaining their final plan. No one was really sure that the cure would work, especially since an entire army had failed to bring him down with it. The X-Men passed the bomb around, examining it as if they could find proof that it would work.

"Didn't the British have this cure weapon too?" Logan asked dubiously.

"No," Scott answered. "Theirs was basically a nuke loaded with cure instead of plutonium. This one's unique."

Sabere studied the small bomb in Angel's hand, roughly the size and shape of a softball, with a few protruding legs for support. "How does that work, anyway?"

Angel held it up for the others to see. It was Beast's design, apparently something Xavier had asked from him in secret and now something he had left behind for them. Scott explained its mechanics. "Pull this pin, then run, fly, shield, anything. It's a bit like a Claymore – seven seconds, then it spits tiny syringes of cure out in all directions."

"So how do we make sure Apocalypse doesn't just cure all of us instead?"

"We're using Kitty," Scott answered. Kitty looked up, shocked – apparently her major role in this battle was news to her, too.

Scott continued, "She'll get close enough to Apocalypse to phase the bomb inside him."

They all stared at him. There was almost a full minute of silence before Logan finally spoke.

"There's no way it can be that easy."

"We'll find out, won't we?" Unspoken was their hope that the Phoenix would provide adequate backup if the bomb failed. Sabere studied the small contraption and didn't bother to hope that it would save her from her role in this battle.

-----

The X-Men left the mansion for their last battle on a mostly frozen day at the end of February. Ice crackled and fell through the basketball court as the assembled team entered the jet. Sabere wouldn't let herself think – instead, she focused on the Phoenix. It was still warm, but the clouds and cold were discouraging.

"Storm," she said quietly. "When we get there, once it's all ready – I'll need sun."

"You'll have it," Storm promised, pushing the jet's controls.

This time, every X-Man had come. The students were alone, but if they lost this battle, it wouldn't matter who was left to protect them. It would all end here, whichever way the coin fell. Rogue was back in uniform, sitting next to the empty seat that had usually been Bobby's. Jean sat just behind Scott, with Logan on her other side. Kitty sat between Colossus and Gambit, staring down at the bomb in her lap. Kurt, of course, was next to Sabere. She looked up at him, but his eyes were closed and his hands were clasped around his rosary. His lips barely moved, but she knew what he was saying, and wondered how he'd feel when his prayers failed. She reached out and gently took one of his hands, interrupting his prayers to a God who may never explain why all this had happened to him and his friends.

They landed unchallenged with a silent splash outside the furiously glowing shield and Sabere took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, still holding Kurt's hand. Gambit had found them a way in, under a dock right off their left wing. They crept easily underneath that evil blue shield and found themselves once again in New York City. Sabere suppressed a shiver and fell in behind Scott and Jean. Xavier would wait in the jet for Sabere to tear down the shields, then bring in the jet. They weren't sure any military would come to help them after the shield was down, but they wanted to try. They all fought better under open sky.

Gambit and Nightcrawler had gone ahead to investigate. They reported back before the other X-Men had made it a block.

"Beacon's in the same place," Gambit said. "We just need to get the diversion in."

Scott nodded. "Okay." But no one moved yet. He looked up at the eerie shield. "It'll be nice to see sky again, won't it?"

With grim smiles, the X-Men divided and advanced. Sabere lingered, watching her friends turn and walk away, knowing she had missed her chance to say goodbye.

"It's almost over," Kurt whispered in her ear. Her eyes drifted closed, but she just saw the eyes of the Phoenix burning back at her.

"Yes. It will."

"Will you be okay?" he asked, taking her in his arms.

She felt his hands, one around her waist and the other around her shoulders, the peculiar fingers, smelled his hair, felt his ear against her cheek, closed her eyes and smelled the leather of his uniform. She couldn't answer, but nodded into his shoulder. He pulled back enough to meet her eyes, and she found herself remembering the first time she saw them, how scared she'd been. Now she didn't want to lose them.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you," he answered.

And that was it. They were no longer lovers, they were now X-Men, and they had their jobs to do. Sabere suppressed tears and memories of quiet lakeside summers and buried them in simmering, battle-ready fire.

An explosion echoed in the streets, and she sprinted to catch up. She would have run headlong into Mystique, who was retreating, but her reflexes warned her and she froze at an intersection. Mystique swung a scythe-like arm at her, but Sabere threw up a shield and saw Gambit behind her.

"'Ey!" he bellowed, and Mystique foolishly turned. Three of his playing cards exploded at her feet, and she evaded them all – but not the last card that drifted down like a feather.

Sabere felt fire surge inside her and cast a shield around Mystique and the card. She felt herself slip out of her own mind and felt the Phoenix clench the shield as the card detonated. Mystique was gone. The Phoenix slipped back into place and Sabere didn't realize she was staring at the ashes until Gambit stepped in front of her, his red eyes meeting hers.

"You did what you had to, cherie," he said. "Come on – there's a battle to win."

She let him lead her towards the familiar sounds of battle, seeing fire on the edges of her vision. Maybe she'd go insane before it was all over. Maybe Scott was right, maybe she would go crazy and have to be stopped. Could they?
Maybe that was why it had that price. Maybe it was all safest that way.

There was Apocalypse, basking in front of his beacon, watching Magneto and Pyro fight the battle. Phoenix immediately focused on John, Pyro, the being of pure destruction Sabere thought she'd eliminated before, and before Sabere could do anything to stop it, the Phoenix had closed its huge flaming beak over Pyro and his flames. When it all pulled back to her, there was nothing left but ash, and Sabere's body was encased in warming, empowering flames.

"Sabere, no!" She wasn't sure who shouted, but she couldn't answer – she couldn't tell them anymore that it wasn't her, that she wasn't in control. The Phoenix was ready to end this.

Magneto, seeing what Sabere's fires had done to his last ally, froze. Angel took the opportunity to drop Kitty from their hiding place, and the girl landed with the bomb inside Apocalypse – and emerged without it.

Sabere flung her hands wide and fire raced around Apocalypse, shielding him, making sure the cure had nowhere to go except into him. She heard his roar of pain and fury, and let the shields drop. The monster was on his hands and knees, shaking, but with a huge sigh he shoved himself to his feet, unchanged.

No.

He was immune. The cure had failed. Apocalypse's face contorted in fury, and with one slash of his hand, sent the X-Men flying back in a blinding wave of blue pain. He turned with his other hand and blasted apart a building, sending the X-Men scattering. Storm and Sabere wound up huddled behind a car together.

"Got another idea?" Storm shouted over the roar. Sabere crouched in the rubble, watching the battle, fighting panic. The cure had failed. Apocalypse was so powerful he was immune. And they were out of options…

Fool. Why do you think I stayed with you?

The Phoenix. Sabere heard its resonant voice in her mind.

Why do you think I came to help Xavier?

As realization washed over Sabere, she heard the familiar shriek and felt the fire – oh the fire the warmth the power, it was finished hiding and killing, it was back, it came –

"Storm," she whispered. "I need my sun now."

She was flying again, flying upwards with a joyous victory screech, soaring over the burning city, up towards that demonic shield. No more of that evil blue – she wanted sky blue, open freedom –

She flung her arms wide and a wave of fire washed away the shield. Sun streamed in – fire, oh beauty – and she aimed back for the earth. She saw the sleek black jet leave the water and aim into the heart of the city, towards her – Xavier was coming.

Get to Xavier. I will do the rest.

Is this what was planned?

This is the trade. Are you still willing?

Kurt. After everything she'd promised him… For the world, yes, I am willing.

Good.

The Phoenix carried her to the landed jet, to Xavier. She landed in a wash of fiery wings and stood before Xavier, who looked at her with a sad smile.

/I thought there would be another way./

No other way. This will work, she promised. She stretched out a flaming hand, Xavier took it, and the Phoenix fire flared around them both.

They were three – bird, woman, and man, hanging in the silent vastness of a fiery heaven. The city lay in shadows around them, but there in the distance was the blue, a massive figure radiating death and devastation. They were three minds, three against one, and with the power of the Phoenix channeling and amplifying the might of Xavier's mind, there was no contest.

Apocalypse's mind was unprotected. Sabere felt Xavier throw everything he had into that evil being, at his one weakness, with the Phoenix adding its substantial powers through Sabere. The psychic rush detonated, and through a blue rush of light, she heard one last triumphant shriek and one scream of defeat. Apocalypse was destroyed.

Then the fiery heaven faded. The edges blurred, and she felt herself slump across Xavier. She vaguely felt his touch on her cheek and his presence in her mind. The world was growing brighter – that white room again, and yes, there was Hank and Bobby – and she knew where she was going. Desperately she flailed for Xavier one last time – Kurt – I need Kurt –

Liebchen?/ she felt faintly.

/Kurt, I'm sorry – I love you so much, never forget it - / And she could hold on no longer. Hands stretched out for her and fiery wings carried her into the white.

-----

Out in the city, Kurt felt Xavier and then Sabere, heard her words, and stood in shock as she faded from his mind. Xavier left with wordless sympathy, and Kurt stood frozen and alone in the now-silent streets.

One last shriek rose in the air, and then…oh Lord, please no…

"It was her," Jean whispered. "The Phoenix. She did it."

Kurt didn't wait for them. He 'ported back to the jet, where Xavier sat outside with Sabere slumped on the ground, propped up against him, her hand clasped limply in his. Xavier shook his head, tears in his eyes, and Kurt stepped slowly forward to cradle his beloved's body close. Sobs shook him, and from the rest of the dead city, the X-Men gathered.

He barely noticed Jean crouched next to him, squeezing his shoulder and crying for Sabere. He barely noticed Magneto, standing alone, paying respects to an enemy. He barely noticed Logan, pacing with a contorted face.

He did notice her left hand, limp on the concrete, his ring still sparkling on her finger. He reached down with a shaking hand to take it gently from her cool finger, fresh tears spilling as he remembered Christmas and how things were supposed to be.

I can save you, but there must be a trade. He had never really believed it would happen – he had always thought it would be someone else, not his Liebchen, not his light and life.

But she was gone. He held her in the silent city and clenched his fist around the small metal promise that would never come true.