"C'mon Marauders, quick slacking. We got a job t'do. Dis one don't make much sense ta me, but we do what we told." Gambit told the group arrayed behind him, as the Tesseract that had deposited them in the sewers of New York closed behind them. He had no problem with the dark, but for others benefit he charged a card as he lead the way as Sinister had said.
The tunnels were dank, dark, and smelled. Swers. Gambit shrugged, and lead the way. Creed taking a spot besides him, sniffing at the air as he lead the way.
"Frail ahead of us Gumbo, hiding in the shadows."
"I see her Creed, t'anks."
Gambit just eyed the shadows as they approached. The woman was older, and hiding in fear, as if afraid to so much as move. Remy only had a moment to realize she was afraid, and then she was angry. Fight or flight complex, and hers kicked to fight. He wasn't expecting how she fought though.
His mental shields rippled as she launched an attack at the Marauders emotions. One that resulted in Vertigo jumping at Arclight with her claws to try and scrape the others face. "Bitch! The Cajun is mine! MINE!"
Gambit didn't have time for this, he exerted his own empathy, over-riding and undoing what the older woman had done. She wasn't as strong as he was, she was no threat. None the less, while he rebalanced emotions, a gunshot rang out. Muzzle of Scalphunter's rifle flaring in the dark tunnels.
"Merde man, she was jus' a defenseless woman. She couldn'ta overcome my strength."
"Don't matter Gambit. His orders. No witnesses. No survivors. You heard it as well as me." Gambit frowned. Grey Crow had never countermanded him that way before, but he just nodded.
"D'Accord.." It was still wrong. Remy nodded, as he saw Vertigo and Arclight shaking hands, and he hiked his hand to indicate they should keep going.
Once or twice more, they encountered similar situations. Weaker mutants attempting to attack them from what they thought was the safety of shadows. After the first, Remy just had Creed scout ahead. They didn't have that problem anymore, and Remy didn't have to see the butchering.
Lord, dis gotta be the right thing. Dese gotta be evil people. But why dey just afraid den? So afraid. Dese ain't warriors. Why we killing dem? Oh Bella.. You gonna be able to lay in my arms again, wit' dis weighting me down, dis blood on my hands?
Gambit firmed his resolve, and stepped ahead. As they strode through tunnels, they heard a commotion beginning ahead. Creed appeared out of the sewer water, while the rest of them walked the walkways. "Found 'em. Dead ahead. One of em saw me though, ran before I could gut em. Alarms raised."
"Y'know what to do." He dreaded saying those words, but the Marauders almost universally smirked. These people were free, they could live their own lives. Gambit could feel the satisfaction in them, at being empowered to take that freedom away.
Lord have Mercy on his soul.
The Marauders charged ahead of him.
It was a crisp day, pleasant. The weather was serene, just as the Goddess who controlled it. Ororo Monroe rested lazily in her class room, grading the social studies papers that rested on her desk. The serenity was not to last, however, when the soft classical music wasn't all she was hearing. Instead, it was a telepathic intrusion.
All X-men report to the War Room. Students, please go to your rooms. A.S.A.P.
Charles Xavier's voice rarely ever sounded so dire. Ororo Monroe, Storm, was up and out of her chair and running to the elevator like the lightning she could summon. Oh Bright Lady, what has happened now?
When she made it into the War Room after changing into her uniform, she met the gaze of her compatriarts. The X-men. Scott Summers stood tall in his black leathers, the epitome of Xavier's dream. His voice was pale. Jean Grey, her dearest friend, clutched his arm looking sick. Thunderbird sat at the table, a massive man, an Apache. He was a warrior through and through, and would die for any cause he deemed worthy. Even he was nervous, fidgeting. Sean Cassidy, the red haired irishman, the eldest of the X-men, looked just as nervous.
It was Charles that held her eyes though. He looked to be close to despair.
"Five minutes ago, Artie emerged from the tunnels that connect to the mansions escape routes. You all recall the Morlocks?" Nods came from those present, and Storm felt despair welling in her stomach.
Oh Bright Lady, what's happened to them? It must be terrible. She felt anger growing in her. A year ago, they had made contact with the Morlocks when securing the escape tunnels beneath the mansion. Charles had offered them all sanctuary in the mansion, but they had refused it. Scoffing off society, and 'pretty' people. Ororo had never been so sneared at as the day Callisto had wrinkled her nose and spat 'pretty' at her like a curse.
Worse, Storm had become their Guardian, their leader by Rite. Callisto had refused to even accept aid from Charles. In the duel that had followed, Ororo had came out triumphant, and they provided the Morlocks with extra food, clothing, medicines. It was rare they came beyond to get the pick ups they left in the Tunnels for them...
Storm realized she'd slightly zoned out in her fear, and the word she heard coming shocked her.
".. mass murders. There is a group of unidentified mutants massacring the Morlocks. You must stop them. From what I have learned with Cerebro, already over fifty are dead. This could well be the darkest day in the history of mutant kind, my X-men. Go. Save them."
Storm shrieked, but there were boots moving at Charles words. Storm needed no hand to encourage her to move, in fact, winds gusted down halls, catching the wings of her costumes, adding speed to her and her compatriots as they broke for the tunnels, and the Morlock tunnels.
We cannot be late. We cannot. Oh Bright Lady, favor us and allow us to arrive on time... please!
As you relate parts of the tunnels are clear, I will be coming from behind with some of the older students, to help evacuate and get medical treatment prepared for the injured. Move swiftly.
What Charles Xavier didn't tell them was he'd already dispatched Lila Cheney, on a favor, to bring Moira MacTaggert from Scotland, or that he'd sent word to some of his contacts to get more medical supplies being sent, and called in old students to help.
The Darkest day in mutant history, indeed. Charles wiped the tears from his face, as he felt another flickering loss of life in the Morlock tunnels. Something was stopping him from doing anything more then sensing though... The Most powerful Telepath in the world, and he was rendered powerless in a situation of such importance.
The Marauders had fanned forward. Breaking into pairs of two. Remy found himself with Sabretooth. He knew the others were ahead, he could tell by the screaming. So much screaming. He had witnessed horrors, or he thought he had. The Theater had been nothing compared to this. Those people never really had time to truly fear what was about to happen. The Marauders waded through these disfigured mutants with the ease of a mastiff killing kittens.
He'd never realized, not really, how truly dangerous his compatriots were. It was rending his soul, each scream. Each dying cry. But the initial ring of reactions to their presence had finally been broken. The women and men who could fight them, or would, had all been killed.
Oh Belladonna, mon amour. I love you wit' my heart and soul, but I gotta stop dis. I gotta. Dese men and women didn't do nothing wrong... OH MERDE!
While he'd been shocked by the horrors, him and Creed had advanced into a chamber where a pink skinned girl with bones sticking out of her hid in a corner. Creed had already ripped through the two women who'd been trying to guard her, and was stalking forward towards her. Slow like. Creed liked the smell of fear.
"NON!" He didn't even realize he'd done it, until three of his throwing spikes embedded into Creed's back, and then exploded. Ripping the mans flesh to ribbons, as he launched himself across the room like lightning, adamantium bo-staff taking Creed in the head, and sending him spinning away.
"C'mon petite, we gotta get you outta dis place! C'mon. You can trus' Gambit, he won't let no one hurt ya, okay petite?" He didn't even bother wasting time trying to calm her normally, as he snatched her up in his arm. She was so small, so frail, and Creed had been going to kill her.
Oh. Oh no. Children. Dese aren't military or some bad guys. Dese just people, outcasts cuz of dere looks, living down here afraid of society. Children.. oh god.
He'd already been spinning to head back the way he'd come, but his kinetic senses warned him even as he ran. He shifted, but only barely avoided the claws that slashed his body armor, putting a rent into his side that leaked with red blood. Not deep, but oh it hurt.
"Heh.. heh.. Knew you'd turn traitor, Gumbo. Boss knew it too. Knew you were too panzy to handle offing a buncha frails like a real man. There just lame deers t'be killed, gumbo. But you... you.. heh. Always His favorite. That's over now, he knew you'd puss out. Told me to make ya suffer if ya pussied out too." Creed was so busy talking and gloating over scoring a hit on the Cajun, he didn't realize Remy was already running again.
Or that the tunnel arch was glowing pink, before it collapsed onto him.
What had he done? What had he helped do? There was only one choice...
"Ya gonna be okay petite. Where y'friends? We gotta get as many of ya out of here as we can. Okay petite?"
The X-men had faced many a dark things in their time, but never anything this dark. Never. As they entered the tunnels, they directed the few fleeing Morlocks they ran across back towards the mansion, and split into teams. Before they'd gotten more then a few steps, Light Flared, and Lila Cheney stood in her leather mini skirt. At her side stood a man they all knew. His name was Brian Braddock. Captain Britian. In another blinding flare, Lila was gone, and Brian inclined his head to Scott. Deference to the local leader, from the Champion of the United Kingdom.
"Storm, you and Thunderbird. Banshee, you and Captain Britian. Jean and I." With each barked pair, he pointed down a different branch in the tunnels that lead from the X-men's corridors. Soon, if not within seconds, those would be guarded by the oldest of the students.
Everyone nodded at the pairings. Storm had to admit they made sense. Scott and Jean were a natural match, body and soul. To be expected of the original two X-men, and of an engaged couple. Banshee had served for a time with Brian in the United Kingdom, when he worked with Interpol. And Storm was familiar with working with Thunderbird. No one wasted time, as they broke into the tunnels.
Anger warred with clastrauphobia within Storm. The people she had the duty to were being murdered, and she could not allow her fears to conquer her. She felt the faint press of Charles mind briefly, giving her strength to help overcome her fears, as her and Thunderbird ran down tunnels. It didn't get any better as they went in further, occasional fleeing Morlocks that they directed back to the mansion, but further ahead they could hear the screams emerging out of terrified throats.
Bursting through the tunnels into one of the more wide open chambers, Storm almost bit her tongue as she saw what was happening. A massive woman was smashing through Morlocks, killing with simple blows. Whatever her fists didn't kill, was shattered by seismic waves of force. Waves that Storm noticed were poorly controlled.
Worse, a dark native American man worked behind her, his rifle firing with precision accuracy. He turned rapidly, and took fire at Thunderbird. If the Apache had been taken unaware, it might have worked. But Thunderbird ran like the wind, and moved like a freight train she knew. He was going straight for the other native American, yet a bullet still rifled through his leg, slowing him down. Another flesh wound, before him and Scalphunter were locked in physical combat.
Not that Storm had time to watch, she was limited in these tunnels, but she couldn't let that woman finish off those children! Lightning crackled and seared the air as it lept from her finger tips. Striking the purple haired woman once, then again. She seemed to shrug off the first few.
"That tickled." Arclight laughed.
"These will do more then tickle." Storm hollared over the thickening air currents, as a true massive bolt of lightning struck out to plow Arclight through a sewer wall. It also brought part of the tunnel down. Storm swore a feverent thanks to the Bright Lady, when all of the children seemed to be on this side of the cave in, and she quickly sent them running back towards the mansion.
Then she noticed Thunderbird, as he was limping back slowly. He showed cuts and bullet wounds, but there was no sign of the man he'd been fighting.
"Cave in." Thunderbird explained to her.
"Can you still run?" She asked eying his wounds, but he grimaced and nodded.
"Faster then you can, Wind Rider. Faster then you can." He smiled a grim smile of the Apache warrior she knew he was, and she returned it, and together they made down the other tunnel branch from the rumble filled and caved in tunnel portion.
"Who the hell were those people?" Arclight grimaced, rubbing at her aching body. That last blast had well and truly hurt her, but she wasn't out of the fight yet. Scalphunter however, was totally unhurt. He just shook his head at her. She should've expected it, he was truly the most lethal of the Marauders. The best, the scariest, and the one everyone underestimated because he didn't have powers that were so visible as others.
"X-men. Xavier's brats. Sinister warned me they might intervene if any of these little lambs got out and got word to them, or if the psi baffles and Gambit's static didn't stop Xavier from sensing the massacre."
"So now what?"
"More people to kill." He shrugged.
"Och, this is a mess laddie."
"Yes. Yes it is Sean." Brian Braddock responded to the older man, as they both flew through the tunnels. They hadn't encountered anyone alive yet. Friendly or hostile. Yet they hadn't seen any bodies yet either, that was promising. He hoped.
His hopes were dashed, not moments later. They saw the explosion, before they heard the screams. The explosion, and the tunnel shaking from something definitely not an explosion. The English Icon and the Irish screamer flew faster, into the long corridor called the alley that ran for most of the tunnels the Morlocks called their own. The central area.
What they saw made both men faces go with. A large inuit man hefted a harpoon from the case of them on his back, the weapon began to glow, and he threw it at one of the running Morlocks. Even as Sean moved to interpose or stop it, both men had other problems to face. A huge brute of a man came barreling at both of them, knocking each into a wall.
Brian grasped Sean as they were hurled, taking the impact against the wall to save his friend the pain, beyond momentum against Brian's super dense skin and costume. "Handle the guy with Harpoons." Brian demanded, and then was flying straight at the bulking man.
Their impact shook the tunnels at that much force being met, yet it barely knocked Blockbuster back as he laughed. "That the best you have, Limey? You're going to have to do much better." A faint german accent on the large man, as Brian moved forward to attack again.
"SONOFA--!!" A strangled cry escaped from the large inuit man, Brian assumed. Mostly because he'd heard Sean's scream just before that cry. A momentary turn of his eyes revealed Harpoon was nursing his hand, Sean had likely sonically detonated that explosive harpoon before the man had a chance to throw it.
Then his attention was back on punching Blockbuster in the face. This was going to be a hard won fight, Brian realized. While their blows hurt eachother, Brian realized they were both too strong, too dense, for this fight to not take a significant amount of time. Time they didn't have.
Yet from the sounds he heard – Banshee's scream rising, and Harpoon's sizzling weapons, occasional explosions and shouts – he heard screams from Morlock's in the distance as well – he knew there were no choices left.
They traded blows like titans, blows that could shatter 3" thick plate steel, and each man came back to give the other another dose of the medicine they'd just received. How long they traded blows, Brian wasn't sure, before Blockbuster's balance was thrown off – bleeding Ear's he noticed. Sean. At the same moment Brian darted up into the air, anticipating what Sean would do.
He wasn't wrong, as Sean's sonic scream ripped into Blockbuster from behind, and then Brian flew down, and threw all of his strength into both fists. Two massive attacks within seconds, combined with the damage to his ear drums and equilbrium felled Blockbuster. More then felled, knocked him into the channel of sewage that ran down the midle of the alley.
Looking up, he saw that Sean was rubbing the side of his costume that looked a little charred.
"Got a little closer to me than I'd have liked laddie, but I'm alright. We got people to be saving."
Then Brian saw what had happened to Harpoon. A collapsing of the tunnels ceiling on him, it looked like. He nodded to Sean, and they both spun to fly on, into the fray.
Jean Grey had been through medical school. She'd worked with cadavers. She'd even done a year at an Emergency Room, to better her skills. Yet even all of that had never prepared her for what she was seeing as her and Scott ran down hall ways. Her lovers mind was like cool ice over their psychic rapport. She was sure she felt much the same, some of the Morlocks they'd run across.. what had been done to them was inhuman. They'd been running for what seemed like eternity now, and outside of very few survivors, they'd seen almost no living souls.
I hope the others are finding more survivors, Scott.
I'm sure they are, Jean. I'm sure they are. We just picked the worst corridors. Do you sense anyone ahead of us?
There's too much static, Scott. My telepathy is almost useless down here. There's too much death, pain, and that weird static. I don't dare open my mind outside of our rapport, Slim.
Noted, Red. Noted. Get those TK shields ready, there's movement up ahead of us registering on my visors systems.
That was Scott Summers for you, the redhead thought. He was terrified, chilled to his soul, and he could still bark orders and think like a master tactician in a bad situation. Charles Xavier was the man behind the Dream, but Scott, her little boyscout, was the dream's living embodiment. A teacher, a car mechanic, a pragmatic man who took a dream he'd heard as a 15 year old, and just incorporated it into his life. She didn't think he even realized how much of an influence he really had on those around him. All he saw was the surface of things, and peoples dislike of his stern authority.
She sent a surge of love through the rapport, as they burst into another section of tunnels, his warning for TK shields was all that kept them from being impaled by hundreds of hurrcane wind gusted pieces of.. she didn't know what they were, being flung from the man who spinned in a whirl wind, but none of them penetrated her shield.
In the time it took for the hail to let up and a look of shock to cover the mans face, she'd opened a hole for Scott to blast the whirl wind man right into a wall with those ruby beams of force, and already his head was swivelling to hit the next man.
He looked like he was made from Crystal. Not that they had time to admire, the whirl wind man was already getting back up and spinning again, and as Scott's beam arced from his visor, she threw the shield back up around them to deflect the hail of projectiles.
What she, and Scott, were not expecting, was when the ruby beam hit Prism, it seemed to go into him, sending him back ten feet from impact, but he was laughing, and then it came right back out aimed at them. The impact slammed into her shields. Jean was one of the most powerful telekinetics on the planet, but the impact of hundreds of high velocity projectiles, combined with one of her dear beloveds optic blasts reflected back into her shields. Collapsed them and send her sprawling to the ground, as Scott leaped over her, wrapped an arm around her, and rolled them out of the hail of projectiles path.
Jean, you'll have to take out the crystal man. I'll take out our projectile shooting friend.
I'm on it. Next time, leave reflective people to me from the beginning, dearest heart.
Yeah yeah, it was a rookie mistake, I'll give myself detention later, Red.
As they came out of their roll, Scott fired a series of optic blasts. A number of those projectiles shattering in the air, as Jean knew he was doing rapid fire blasts, his aim aided by the computer systems in his visor. It was all a shock and awe move, she knew, from the rapport. He was pulling Riptide's attention to the fact Scott was deflecting his attacks, and when he least expected it, another one of those ruby beams laced right for Riptide's body.
Which of course, was probably preferable to what was happening to Prism, when she just lifted him into the air telekinetically. No smirk on her lips at how easily she made him completely unable to counter attack. Not after what she'd seen of these two's handiwork. A hard yank of her telekinetic hold, slamming Prism into a wall.
The unexpected happened then, and a cracking sound rang in the corridor. Prism.. shattered.
OhmygodScott I think I killed him! Scott!
Scott was cursing, verbally, as Riptide swirled down a corridor faster then he could actually blast the man-thing. He was sure he'd hit Riptide that second time, but the man didn't seem to be too badly hurt. Then his gaze swept to Prism, Jean's shocked expression, and his arms wrapped around her.
"It's alright Jean. It's alright. Come on, we can't stay here. The other one got away, and the Morlocks aren't safe. They did far worse to the Morlocks." His tone was hard, he was doing his Leader voice on her, and she hugged him so hard she almost felt his ribs creak, and stole a kiss before nodding.
She knew. Knew.. If any other X-man had killed someone, even accidentally, there would be hell to pay. But Scott was bonded to her, he knew that hadn't been her intention, that accident happened. That she needed him to be strong right now. Her time to be strong for him would come later, she knew. In the night – if they suvived this, when he would beat himself up over the failures at protecting the Morlocks.
As they began to run once again, was when she noticed he was injured. A series of rips in his leather uniform with small amounts of blood trickling at them. He hadn't got all of those projectiles before they got him after all.
"Och Charles, what's the count at now?" Moira MacTaggert demanded of her old friend, as she moved from makeshift hospital bed to make shift bed in the Gym that'd been converted into medical facilities. The real medical facilities were already full.
Medical tables laid out, some just blankets on the floor for the less injured. Charles wheeled from place to place, looking grimmer each second.
"19 in critical condition Moira, if we're lucky, they might survive. 16 in with serious injuries, and 12 with minor injuries, or 'walking wounded' status."
"... That can't be right, Charles. There were well over 350 Morlocks!" Moira looked as if she was about to bite his head off, or turn around and stalk into those tunnels to kill the murderers herself. Instead she stalked off to the seriously injured, to tend the wounded to the best of her ability that she could.
Charles gave a start, to feel a large hand on his shoulder. A blue furred hand, as Hank McCoy looked down on him. "We have to focus on the living, Charles. We can still save them, but not if we dwell on the dead. If Healer is amongst the survivors, the chance for recovery of the critical cases will improve drastically..."
Hank trailed off, and Charles nodded. "I can't find him, Hank. I can't find any of them down in that chaos."
"We do what we can, old friend. We do what we can. Our lot is not to ask why. We have people to save." Pushing Charles chair back to those in need of Surgery, Hank had to force himself not to break down as he'd seen both Charles and Moira do twice now.
"I'm afraid, Hank. There hasn't been another survivor showing up at the tunnels for over fifteen minutes now, and no word from the X-men..."
"Trust in them, as they trust in you Charles. We can do no more."
Gambit was not having a good day. A group of children ran ahead of him, while he constantly was darting ahead or dropping behind them, to fight off the team he himself had lead down into these tunnels.
Curse dat bastard Essex. He knew. He knew. Fck him!
He felt the approach from behind. He'd long since run out of throwing spikes. The favored weapon against Creed, because of the larger amounts of damage they inflicted by digging into him before exploding. Yet they were all gone. All he had left was cards, his staff, and a bag of marbles he'd lifted amongst scattered possessions while saving a child.
"Keep moving pettites!" Remy shouted to them, as he timed it, waited, and spun around with his Staff with a surprise for Creed. He hadn't shown this trick to Sabretooth just yet, as his Staff impacted against Creed, it exploded, sending Sabretooth yards down the tunnel smoking, while his Staff just wisped a bit of smoke.
T'ank you for dis poppa. Without the adamantium staff, he wasn't sure how he could possibly get these kids out of here. Not at the rate his weapons were rapidly diminishing.
"Heh. Nice try Gumbo. That ain't gonna stop me. Nothing you got could stop me on your best day, cajun. Admit it, yer screwed." Sabretooths snarled at him, and Gambit almost nodded. It wasn't looking good. Already he could feel the numerous wounds along his body, his powers slowing their drain on him, but how much could he take?
It was time to settle Victor Creed. Or die trying. It might by the little ones time to escape, at least. He was fairly certain all the Marauders were still behind him too, instead of ahead of the kids. Yes. He would save them, even if it cost him his life.
"Bring it, Creed. It long since time t'settle dis between us."
Snarling both men leapt at eachother, claws meeting staff. A metallic boot meeting Creed's crotch. The snarl ellicited was only a momentary boon to his ego, as Creed latched a hold of the staff and whipped Gambit into the tunnel wall. The impact was dizzyng. Creed was a lot stronger then he was, but Remy just laughed at him as that rush of energy filled him.
"Yeah, dat right Creed." He said, when the man stepped back, at the bright glow of Gambit's eyes. "YOU de one who be screwed." Hurling himself off the wall, Gambit moved the way the Guild had trained him, that Sinister had trained him. He moved like lightning, expending kinetic energy just slightly faster then he was absorbing it from the movements or reverberations that coursed back along his staff as he struck the other man.
Strike. Move. Dance aside. Strike. Move. Jump. Piss him off, get him howling. That's what the cajun needed. It wasn't about doing damage, it was about frustrations. He knew what would come. He'd seen it often enough.
As seconds drug out as he danced the tunnels with his bo-staff, neatly avoiding all of Creed's attacks, and scoring numerous with his own, Creed began to growl. And then it was howling. Berserker Rage, Gambit knew. It was his only chance at Victory though. Creed was dumb, but he had an animal cunning in a fight. Except he lost that rational when he berserkered.
He forgot things. Like the fact that Remy LeBeau's primary weapon was not the adamantium bo-staff. As Creed launched himself at LeBeau, Gambit reminded him of the fact by darting to the side, and stuffing the whole bag of marbles down his throat.
It was a move not without costs though. Even as he sailed through the air away, Creed's claws raked across his stomach, ripping armor like cloth, and giving him a real wound. As Remy landed with a thud and kept rolling across the tunnels, he nodded as he knew what was about to happen, and shielded himself.
As Creed's torso seemed to explode, as those kinetically charged marbles went off.
Standing slowly, he had to use the staff, Remy hobbled forward. Leaving Creed's smoking body behind him. He wasn't dead, Gambit knew that. He also knew he didn't have the strength to actually kill Creed, not now. He could feel his body fighting just to keep him moving. Each step helped reinforce the kinetic energies that were coursing through him, trying to repair his wounds, that were keeping him from blacking out.
Ahead, he couldn't see the petites. They'd ran like he told them too. Further down, a lot further, he could see a pair of teenagers guarding a corridor, and saw the last of the little ones going through that tunnel. Safety then, if those teens were guarding it. But he didn't dare approach, not with what he'd done here.
He hobbled down another corridor, using his staff almost as a cane as he went.
I saved as many as I could. It wasn't enough. Eight lil'uns, an five in de group before dis. How many died t'night cuz of me? Cuz I assembled dis team? Cuz I worked for Sinister? Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Bella. I failed. I failed everyone.
He'd done what he could, and was in no shape to help any more. Now all he could do was escape. Escape and hope the Marauders didn't catch up to him before he was healed.
Chasing after the Marauding murderers was proving to be a exercise in restraint, and the deeper into the tunnels they went, the more Storm felt her claustrophobia rising. Felt the walls pressing in on her. Saw the corpses of the Morlocks. They'd reached the Alley, the Central part of the tunnels, and battle raged up and down it. In the distance, she could see Scott and Jean paired off against a whirl wind of a man, shooting spikes all around and somehow not falling right away to the experienced duo.
Down the other side of the alley, she could make out Captain Britian and Banshee advancing on a man who seemed more interested in posing, and looking pompous then fighting. Odd, that. There was little time to dwell on the fact though, when a woman with green hair stepped into the Alley from the other direction, extended her hands and...
She saw others beginning to drop, and then felt that power hitting her itself. Naseua, as the world began to spin around her, and she felt herself falling to the ground. Nothing would focus, and the spinning world made it feel even more like the tunnels were going to collapse in on her.
"Nooooooooo!"
She wasn't the only one to scream, but hers was the loudest, and the only one accompanied by wind gusting at the ceilings, as if trying to make it stay there by the force of the wind.
Thunderbird saw it as Ororo started to go down, as Banshee and Brian began to go down just like Ororo had, she hadn't focused on Jean or Scott yet, but he knew it was just a matter of seconds. For some reason her waves hadn't effected him as badly, perhaps because he could run faster then normal humans could, and it was slower to work on him?
It didn't matter, he was across the Alley in a flash, running as if his life depended on it. More then his life depended on it. He couldn't leave his team mates at the mercy of these murderers while vertigo and nasuea overtook them.
The Apache never gave a second thought to her having reinforcements, as he sped across the distance before she could scream, his massive arms in front of him like he intended to tackle her. Which he did, the pale skinned green haired woman was impacted by his massive arms, and they sailed through the air. Slamming into the tunnel walls, he heard numerous cracks from her body, and now she was screaming.
Thunderbird never had a chance to see if the others were recovering. A rifle sounded. Oh no..His fears were ill founded, it was not aimed at his fellows. Instead the round took him in the back of the head, exiting his skull and taking out Vertigo too.
Scalphunter just nodded. An Apache deserved to die in battle, and Vertigo couldn't be healed from that kind of damage. Two birds, one stone.
The world came back into focus, even as she saw what happened to Thunderbird, and another scream bellowed from her throat. Lightnings crackled with fury towards the source of that gunfire, obliterating tunnel walls in her wrath for the target.
Never before had the X-men had a casualty in the field. Never. Now they had. There could be no more. "No more!" She hadn't even realized she'd shouted it, but the other X-men looked astonished, before they recovered in their own fights.
Her lightnings had not found their target, clearly, when a muzzle flared further in the alley, and a bullet ricochetted off Jean's invisible force fields. Storm couldn't worry about them though, the purple haired woman was coming forward now.
"Payback time, Wind Rider." She sneered and unleashed blasts of seismic force – not at her, but at the ceiling.
Storm raged. They were going to try and trap her? After daring what they dared? They killed her people, the Morlocks. They killed her team mates. They washed the tunnels in blood, and they dared this now too?
Lightning and wind flared from her hands like never before, never before had an enemy awoken the angry wrathful goddess that hid within Storm. Debris exploded and were pushed aside before they ever reached her, and the disbelieving look on Arclight's face was met with more lightnings.
Her earlier thunderbolts were like the jolt of a car battery in comparison, now that she new her opponent could stand such. Lightling filled the Alley like a strobe light, crashing into Arclight. It stopped only when she realized the woman had quit moving, but was still breathing.
That should do.
With that handled, Storm flew down the Alley, towards Jean and Scott. They were being hard pressed by the duo of Scalphunter and Riptide, but Storm saw the third threat before the other two were even aware of it. Lightning leapt from her hand, and hurricane force winds trailed behind it, as electricity sizzled into the Inuit man, shocking him to his core, exploding the harpoon he'd been about to hurl, and then slamming him far down the tunnels.
In the shock of Harpoon's team-mates, Jean and Scott struck. Jean telekinetically shifting attention to Riptide while he was distracted, slamming him repeatedly into a wall until the swirling about him stopped, while Scott unleashed flares of that ruby force at Scalphunter. That there were numerous surprised Storm. Scott rarely ever missed, but when they stopped, she only assumed he'd hit his target, because there was no one left to assault who wasn't already down.
Turning her head, she took in the battle down the Alley. Brian and Sean had downed the posing man, and were teaming up on a large brute of a man. Even together, even with him moving slower, it seemed as if he was an even match for them.
"Scott! Blast him!" Ororo was surprised to find it wasn't her voice that demanded it, but Jean's. Likely for the others benefit, as Brian swerved out of the way, and Scott's optic blast lanced down the alley, impacting Blockbuster with tons of force at the same time Sean screamed once more.
Yet even as Blockbuster began to go down, Scott's blast reflected off a piece of his armor, impacting into the ceiling...
"Everyone out!" Was screamed from throats, as X-men darted down tunnels for safety from the impending collapse.
Hours later, Storm stared futiley out the window of the kitchen that the X-men sat around.
"His brother will come for his body, to see that the proper funeral rites are observed for him back home." Her voice felt empty, as she stared. Empty. So many dead. So many wounded. Oh Bright Lady, how could the world be so cruel? How?
"What of the .. Marauders?" Her tone stayed cool. She must keep calm. Already the sky was gray, and a drizzle fell upon the ground. Tears that she could not shed. Not before her friends. The Goddess must remain strong.
"We weren't able to recover any of their bodies, but we found .. leftovers.. of Sabretooth. Whoever tangled with Creed was none to gentle."
Scott sighed, looking at Sean. None of them needed to be reminded of what they'd seen leaving the tunnels. "We don't know enough. We have to assume they escaped, or were at least carried off by one of their number."
The door to the kitchen opened, as Charles Xavier rolled into the kitchen, his chair pushed by Henry McCoy. "You did better then we could have hoped. The day was a tragedy, perhaps the darkest ever in the blossoming history of mutant kind. Yet you proved a light in the darkness. Almost 80 of the Morlocks will survive because of you. How those last few packs of children managed to get here, I'll never know. They only said an angel protected them from what I surmise to be Sabretooth."
"A mystery for the future, but we cannot dwell. The students are terrified, the Morlocks need more care then Moira and I can provide. We must mourn when we can, my friends. The living must be tended to."
Hank nodded at Charles words, and waited to see how the X-men would react. Storm could read the surprise on his face, as she watched him looking over the X-men. Surprised at the way the wildly different group rose, nodded, and set to work.
It didn't surprise Ororo. They were X-men, and they were used to the world – it felt like the world anyway – resting on their shoulders. As she strode through the kitchen to go tend to the Morlocks, the clouds parted for sun to shine.
An angel in the tunnels? She'd seen no Angel, but she'd heard a pink skinned young girl named Sarah saying that very thing. An Angel with red on black eyes, and a face so beautiful it had made her want to cry for had saved them from the bad man with claws and teeth.
Maybe the Bright Lady was watching out for some of us, today.
--
"You failed the mission parameters, Scalphunter." Sinister's tone was cold, as he stood upon the control platform of his labs, looking down at Scalphunter.
"The vast majority of the Morlocks were exterminated, Sir." He was allowed some leeway, now that Gambit was gone. Now he was allowed to call Sinister sir instead of master. Stupid cajun, he should've ran when he had the chance. Scalphunter feared, feared very much Essex was going to send them after the cajun. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to kill LeBeau. The man was his friend, and unlike the others, he hadn't conned Grey Crow into joining with Sinister. He'd done it willingly, knowing full well what it would entail.
He knew the others wouldn't feel the same. He highly doubted Vertigo would, as he eyed the clone-tank where her body was almost finished being grown. Probably at the memory transference stage. She'd emerge either deeply in love with Gambit, or so hateful it would be funny, depending on Sinister's whims.
"This is true. You also eliminated one of the X-men. I did not expect that. You also allowed Gambit to escape." Those words hung the air. He had no idea how Sinister meant that. Good? Bad?
"Yes, Sir."
"That is to my liking. Remy LeBeau is far too valuable to kill. You will not go after him. In fact, all of the new clones of your companions will be hard wired to be unable to kill him." Sinister's voice never changed, but the statement of Remy being that valuable skilled Scalphunter.
That Sinister was going to hardwire it into the new clones, that was.. Sinister never had done that before. Even with his fascination with Scott Summers, he didn't bother such hard wiring. What had Remy gotten himself into, and why was he so important to Sinister? Scalphunter wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"You may go, Scalphunter. You may inform Arclight of my orders regarding LeBeau." It was a rebuke, Scalphunter knew. That he'd only saved Arclight. Well, and Creed, but Sinister had punished Creed for daring to take his punishment with Gambit further then he'd wanted.
Then, Scalphunter almost envied Creed. It wasn't the real one who died. Just a clone. Why Sinister had bothered having Gambit recruit a clone, Scalphunter would never know. If he had to guess, Essex had probably warned the real Creed to stay away from Gambit. Sinister didn't think like others did. Yet then, why envy Creed? He probably didn't even realize he had a clone enslaved to the will of another.
Why all the protection of Gambit though? He knew of another warning off. He'd done the warning, him, Arclight, and Blockbuster. Their little visit with Candra had been almost fun. Until she'd killed Blockbuster by rupturing his heart, and Sinister himself appeared. That had put the fear into the blond woman though. He doubted Remy'd have problems from her again.
Run far and fast, and become a lot stronger then you are now kid. Being protected by Sinister isn't much better then being hunted by Sinister.
Authors note: For those of you not aware, Brian Braddock is Captain Britian. The equivalent roughly of Captain America for England. Banshee is an old X-man, with as his name implies, a sonic scream. Thunderbird (John Proudstar), was an X-man who died early in the comics, the brother of Warpath. Superstrength and speed.
And that's my movie-version of the Mutant Massacre. This story is set Prior to X1. Next up, Gambit's Wandering years.