Seeing Jean start to walk away urged Duncan's stomach to calm faster. He was about to hurry after her when he saw what hung around the unconscious guard's belt. Moving swiftly, he grabbed the black round bomb, knowing it might be handy later on.

He sprinted after Jean, who had just disappeared through another door that led to a circular chamber with walls made of wall-sized computer screens. The keyboard and controls stood by itself near the entrance and in front of Jean, whom Duncan joined shortly.

"Gee, thanks for waiting, Jean." Duncan feigned an annoyed look, but Jean did not seem to hear or notice him. Her gaze was focused downwards, and soon Duncan realized that there was a big 'hole' in the center of the room. A short stairway led to the room within the room, and…

There he was, the old man whom they had been frantically searching for in the past twenty-two minutes —tied down to a metal chair, wrists cuffed with thick bands onto the armrests, and his head lolled against his chest.

Duncan lowered his gun as he quietly observed this man. Here was the cause of the sudden instability in his perfectly established life. What future did he now have? He had chosen to betray his job, his career, the organization that was supposed to be his future, and for what? This man whom he did not even care for?

The thought tugged his lips into a downhearted smirk.

"Come on," Jean said, and rushed downstairs to her unconscious mentor.

Duncan walked over to the controls. "It'll take me a while to figure out the password to unlock the cuffs on him."

"Don't worry, Duncan," he heard Jean's voice say from below, "I've got this."

Duncan's fingers ceased typing. Wondering what Jean could be up to, he climbed down the stairs, but abruptly stopped at the last step…

A determined look of deep concentration shadowed Jean's face. Her squinted eyes stared at the bands without relent, and finally, her hard work paid off. A thin crack appeared at the edge of one band's surface, slowly at first, but gained speed as it crept across to the other end. Duncan imagined a laser slicing the cuffs, but there was nothing visible –just the growing cut for evidence. As soon as one cuff was completely sliced, Jean turned her concentration to the other.

Duncan stood in awe. Those bands must have been at least an inch thick!

Soon, Xavier was released, and Duncan picked him up, carrying him across his arms.

"Let's go," Jean said, already heading up the stairs and towards the door from which they had come.

They crossed converging corridors, escaped more armed guards, and managed to avoid getting lost. They paused for a while to catch their breaths, but moments later, they were running again. Finally, they entered the door that led to the hangar, and Duncan felt relief. They could fly a plane to escape!

They stopped short from the first step of the stairs, however, as they took a moment to gaze at the awesome sight before them. Duncan's mouth fell open as Jean's hands gripped the top railing tightly. The hangar was empty of aircrafts; instead, rows of shiny red and black Sentinels lined up across the enormous room.

"Oh God," Jean murmured.

For a moment, Duncan's mind recalled an image of the buried Terracotta Army that was discovered near Xi'an in China decades ago. Fortunately, the eyes of these Sentinels were dead black, lacking the dangerous red gleam that brought life into the robots.

They were just as lifeless as the Terracotta Army.

Duncan noticed Jean swallow nervously, but she didn't stall much longer as she began to descend the metal stairway. Duncan struggled to keep up to Jean's fast pace as they strode past the rows of dead colossal robots. He felt like a mouse as they hurried towards their goal.

The exit was a gigantic door at the other end of the hangar. It took them a few minutes to cross the vast room, but as they finally stood in front of the closed door, their shoulders unwillingly slumped. They surveyed the door, but there were no controls, no colorful buttons, and no handprint scanner. They had no idea how to open it.

"So…"

"I don't think my telekinesis is going to help this time, Duncan," Jean said uncertainly. "I might have been able to budge it open wide enough to let us through one by one, but that laser trick I did earlier took a lot out of me."

Duncan gently laid Xavier's body on the cold floor, and he licked his dry lips as he racked his brain for a solution. Panic was slowly creeping into his system. It made him uneasy to be in a locked room filled with Sentinels; he could only imagine what Jean must feel.

Quiet minutes passed, and he was about to suggest they try to find another way out when they felt the ground vibrate slightly beneath them. They glanced at one another with alert eyes, and turned around to face the giant army that stood behind them. Both released their held breaths in relief as they saw the Sentinels still as lifeless as before.

"What was that?" Jean asked, her eyes showing worry and relief at the same time.

"I bet it was an explosion somewhere in the building..."

Jean knitted her brows. "Something must have gone wrong. Beast might have begun to set off the bombs already... It was part of the rescue plan."

"Beast?"

"Yes, Beast. He's a teammate."

"Beast… He pick it himself? It's a strange name."

"I suppose. But it fits him."

Duncan looked at her in disbelief.

"What? I didn't mean it that way. I meant it in a good way!"

"Like… a compliment?"

"…Sort of. Yes."

Pause. "OK."

Jean shifted uneasily, fidgeting. "Anyway…"

"So Beast has begun setting off explosives?" Duncan asked, trying not to let his amusement show, as seeing Jean Grey squirm was not an all too common privilege. "But that's a good thing, isn't it? That's part of your guys' plan, and we've already got Xavier."

"Yes, but…" Jean walked to the closed door and held a hand against it.

Duncan quietly debated with himself whether it was just his imagination that Jean's hand was shaking before it reached the surface of the door.

"This means we probably have less than fifteen minutes to get out of here, and well, we don't exactly have a way out… at the moment…"

Duncan gave a slight nod at her words. True, but it was hardly the time to be giving up, he thought. He glanced down at his belt, and noticed he still had the small bomb he had snatched from one of the guards they had encountered in the corridors.

It boggled him that he felt no nervousness towards carrying such a dangerous explosive around his waist -and so painfully close to a treasured body part- but another thought was quickly forming in his head. He unattached the bomb from his belt, and surveyed it.

"Jean, I've got it!" he said, already walking up to Jean and the door. "Here, we can blow it open."

"Duncan, what are you—no!" All it took was one glance at Duncan's hand; Jean was speaking in a flurry. "That's a powerful bomb! If that detonates, it can cause a chain reaction of ensuing explosions. Did you forget? The Sentinels behind us are equipped with missiles, Duncan. They're bombs, too! We'd be dead in seconds."

Duncan looked down at his hand, taking in her words. "Oh."

A nervous laugh escaped his throat, and he hung the bomb against his waist again. They stood quiet for a few more minutes, both painfully aware that time was running out. Jean was deep in thought when Duncan scratched his head in frustration.

"Let's go back to where we came from. We'll have to find another way."

Jean opened her mouth to speak, but what she was about to say, Duncan never found out. The giant metal door that had blocked them from freedom suddenly began to split from the middle, opening horizontally; it did not take long for them to feel a cool gust of wind from the night desert, brought in from the darkness outside.

"What—it's opening!" Duncan exclaimed. The doors did not open all the way, but it was more than enough: a Sentinel could have fit through the gap.

The look of surprise on Jean's face was still present when she threw Duncan a disbelieving smile. Then she turned her back towards the opened exit in time to see movement at the other side of the hangar. Someone was descending the stairs, and fast.

Jean's face broke into a wide smile. "Scott!"

Duncan saw him as well, but refused to offer a greeting to his former archrival. He could not help but recall his last meeting with Summers, and he felt a surge of satisfaction course through him.

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Duncan tore his eyes away from his archrival as the guard approached them. "What did you do to him?"

"I took his powers away," Duncan said quietly, smirking.

"I've never seen anything like it." The guard had his full attention on Scott, and, fascinated, watched the mutant endure unimaginable pain. The dart fell on the floor with a slight clank, Scott's fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Disgusted, Duncan decided enough was enough. He swung the handle of the gun against the guard's head, knocking him unconscious.

A few more seconds passed before Scott's body stopped shaking, and it took a great part of Duncan's strength to pull Scott's body into a sitting position against the wall.

"What… were you… thinking..?" Scott's words came out in short gasps.

"Sorry." Duncan shrugged, though he could not contain his grin. "But I had to make it look believable."

"But… it wouldn't have… mattered anyway…" Scott reasoned, though his breathing remained labored.

Duncan grinned. "So? Besides I did you a favor. Now you can stop wearing that stupid-looking visor. At least for a few hours," he added.

"Goddamn… Matthews…" Scott leaned back against the wall with a grunt, shaking his head slightly. "Fuck you."

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"Jean, c'mon! Scott can easily catch up with—"

A ground-breaking explosion interrupted his sentence. It had occurred right behind Summers, and it sent the leader of the X-Men flying a few feet towards them. Jean gasped, and was about to dash towards her best friend, when Duncan grabbed onto her wrist. She immediately turned to face him, confused; his serious face commanded authority.

"I'll get Summers. Get Xavier to safety," he said firmly.

Jean started to protest, but Duncan pressed a finger against her lips. "I just risked everything for you. Let me assure you, this mission is not going to fail. Go."

The redhead glanced at Scott who was struggling to get up from the floor, then at her unconscious professor a few feet from her, then back at Duncan's determined face. "Hurry… and be careful."

But Duncan had already begun to sprint towards the fallen X-Man. As he ran, he noticed that the explosion had not been related to any of the immobile robots that surrounded them. He saw small flames and debris around Summers, but no Sentinel had moved –or been harmed. This bothered him. What had caused the explosion?

Finally, he found himself kneeling down alongside Summers, who wore no visor on his face. Instead, it was gripped in his hand. Scott's brown eyes glared at him cautiously as he pushed his weight against his arms, struggling to get up. "I suppose you're going to help me?"

Duncan smirked, but didn't wait another second to put the other man's arm around his shoulder. "Figured you could use some."

Both men stood up slowly as Duncan hoisted Scott's weight upwards. They made their way across the wide path towards the open entrance, Scott occasionally grunting in pain.

"Did you break something?" Duncan asked hesitantly.

"It sure feels like I did."

"Let's hurry then."

Scott stopped for a moment, and then spoke uneasily. "Thanks..."

Duncan, trying to ignore the sudden awkward moment that had befallen them, grumbled, "Uh… don't worry 'bout it."

They had made it within twenty feet of the exit, when again the world chose to make life difficult for Duncan Matthews.

He heard a quiet buzz, a sharp whirring of machinery being turned on… a slow growing rumble from the ground. The hair on the back of his neck stood.

"Oh shit."

Scott gulped beside him.

Both looked nervously at each other, but they didn't risk a glance behind them; instead they continued their trudge towards the exit with renewed energy and a much quicker pace.

Almost there…

The ground was shaking intensely now, and it was an effort to maintain their balance. At last, they passed through the threshold, though Duncan almost jumped when Jean suddenly appeared in front of them at the height of the night sky. Gracefully, she lowered herself until the soles of her feet touched the ground.

"The professor is safe. He's with Beast in the Blackbird," she explained quickly, helping Scott switch his arm to hang around her shoulder instead of Duncan's. "C'mon, we should hur—"

She stopped mid-sentence, her green eyes wide at the sight behind the two men.

Free of Scott's weight, Duncan finally let himself turn his head to look at the sight that had gotten ahold of Jean's tongue.

It wasn't as bad as he had expected. No, really. He had originally imagined that all the Sentinels had been slowly coming to life, red eyes flashing, and walking towards them.

But instead only two had come to life —red eyes flashing, and making their way towards them.

Two was better than three hundred, Duncan surmised. Well, two so far, he corrected himself, as already he noticed that, further behind the two robots, their brothers were also beginning to show signs of life, their crimson eyes lighting up.

Briefly he wondered how he was forming these thoughts with any sense of calmness. God, he truly must be losing his mind.

"Come on!"

Jean was already some steps away from him, struggling to keep her and Scott from losing their balance as they limped further ahead.

"MUTANT LIFESIGNS CONFIRMED," boomed an eerie robotic voice.

Duncan stopped in his tracks. For a moment, he stared at the ground: dirt, sand, and dry grass. After being surrounded by cold metal for the past hour, it astounded him how easily he was able to step into a… more natural environment.

He relished stepping on the dirt.

Dirt that shook with every step the two Sentinels took.

He turned around to face his former allies.

The open gap in the threshold only allowed for the width of one Sentinel, he quickly thought, and that one Sentinel was quickly making its way towards him. Breathing hard, jumbled thoughts jumped all around his mind as he strove to organize them, to think clearly, to focus on the situation at hand.

He formulated a plan.

"Duncan?" Jean's faint voice called out. "What are you waiting for?!"

It took all his might to ignore the sweet sound of her voice, but he knew what he had to do, and for the first time since his meeting with Jean at the warehouse almost a month ago, he felt completely certain of his decision.

He grabbed the bomb that hung tightly on his belt and took a few steps towards the Sentinel that stood at the entrance. It seemed the gap was a few inches too narrow to even let through one robot, and the Sentinel struggled to squeeze in through the opening. Duncan heard the loud screeching sound of metal being scratched against metal, and he winced.

Trying to gain all the courage and calmness he could muster, he took a few moments to analyze the bomb and try to activate it. He succeeded in activating the magnet on the bomb, but as quickly as his determination had swelled in the past five seconds, his heart now shriveled as he realized there was something wrong with his explosive…

The timer refused to work.

Duncan swore, and started to have second thoughts with following through this act of heroism. He grunted in frustration, but firmly stood his ground. He had made his decision, and now he had to stay with it. He only had a few moments, as the Sentinel was almost successful at traversing the exit. It did not seem to notice Duncan, as it had its full attention focused on the mutants: the shrinking silhouettes of Scott Summers and Jean Grey— who had just telekinetically created a large opening through the twenty-foot perimeter fence.

"All right then," Duncan muttered to himself as he anxiously took a few steps forward. He swallowed first, looking up. He pulled back his right arm, and threw the bomb with all his strength… it was like throwing a baseball…

The bomb attached magnetically on the center of the Sentinel's red chest, on what would have been the sternum if the robot body was compared to the human anatomy.

"Gotcha." With that, Duncan pulled his gun from the height of his waist. He raised his arm, aimed at the bomb that was currently emitting a flickering blood light, and fired.

His mind was barely able to register the fact that the bullet had indeed reached its goal when time seemingly… stopped.

A silence that deafened him… swirling scarlet fire encroached… but no heat… no warmth.

Ice. So cold... So numb.

A treacherous blaze swallowed him whole, and for one moment that refused to falter—

the boy named Duncan Matthews saw a flash of leaf green eyes… as the fury of flames morphed into wild flowing red hair—

time sped up again —too rapidly now, whirling him, spinning him…

and then...

and then…

nothingness.

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