Warning: depictions of violence, torture.

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Contrary to everyone's beliefs – and Emma could have sworn she was able to hear everything those simpletons were thinking – she wasn't completely heartless. But in the first place she was definitely not stupid. That's why she didn't wait for Sebastian to lose the remnants of good sense and, more importantly, sanity. Instead, she decided to watch a show from the safe distance. To be utterly frank, Emma hoped that poor lunatic will last longer than that – a pity… schizophrenia was stronger than the most careful scheming.

Emma didn't appreciate the idea of being all on her own. Although she considered herself a survivor, stupid risks remained stupid.

When the curtain finally fell, Emma has collected some necessities, hid them and got ready to enjoy the performance. As children, they climbed up the highest trees with ease. Emma and her brother… She was not a child anymore, but her flexibility remained intact.

Firstly, she had to suffer through the repetitive wailing and howling of servants. She'd love to throw something lethal at them. Just to shut them up. This noise was really getting on her nerves.

Secondly, a hairy moron stepped in. However, in vain.

The sun was about to disappear behind the horizon and Emma was already on the verge of murdering rage. Why aren't they going somewhere else so she might sneak behind the group and perhaps speak to that professor? Further cooperation with Sebastian was suicidal, that's the given. Moreover, this Charles was such an unbelievably nice man, too soft for her liking, but he would do. She could see the potential. He's had some hidden toughness, even more than Sebastian. She smirked looking down at her soon-to-be ex.

Huh? Here is Xavier, by the way. He'd better stay away, of course.

They should have given Sebastian an opportunity to beat up that unfortunate thing. He would have cooled down a little. Is it necessary to rise a commotion? These men could be so simple-minded sometimes.

First shot has almost caught her by surprise – even though Emma was deducing such development.

Oh really, Sebastian is stronger than he looks.

And Charles stood there earthly grey, probably shocked. If she were him, she would have run this instant. One man's blood was never enough to pacify the crowd. Hence… Wait! What are you thinking? She clearly overestimated Xavier's intelligence.

The bullet, which was aimed to hit Sebastian in the arm stopped in the air inches before him and then… fell down. She saw it. Lord! She has definitely seen it – Emma grabbed the branch and lowered her head in astonishment. What was that?

Xavier noticed it too, but he clearly didn't see Madrox crawling from behind. Well, apparently Xavier was a sorry fighter when it came to hand-to-hand. Thus, he was the one currently knocked down to the ground.

His gun was thrown aside and Sebastian bent to retrieve it.

Meanwhile, the commotion grew and screaming, wailing and gunshots were surely annoying. Emma thought, she saw that blond bully and nondescript woman always tailing Xavier. It was impossible to say for sure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian. He dragged Charles closer by the collar and whispered something in that pretending paranting manner that never ceased to send goose bumps down her skin. He's questioning about the key – not quite an educated guess.

After Charles fell to the ground unconscious, she couldn't quite contain a sympathetic flinch – half of his face was covered in blood. Sebastian has finally come to his senses and started yelling more or less logical orders. Before he realized, that the remaining part of Xavier group had to be taken care of, it was already too late. The birds have left the nest.

Sebastian was suddenly overcome with hysterics – this one is a lost case, thought Emma wryly. For sure...

Twilight quickly turned into night.

It was by no means difficult to manage without servants and they were all gone now, if you don't take into account several dead bodies under the tree.

Right now they had to carry everything by themselves and to say they were glad would be a serious underestimation. Most of the supplies were left right there. Emma humbly decided to accept this small gift – if they have thrown away some food she wouldn't be complaining. Her plans for future were under current consideration. If only Xavier played as directed, she pursed her lips wistfully. He mustn't have played the hero – or tried to. Anyway, turns out – Emma is pretty much on her own now.

Madrox has forcibly drawn unfortunate professor to his feet. Xavier could hardly stand and Emma was one more time surprised by the sympathy she felt towards him.

Right now she can't help him out even if she tries.

She grimly stared as the retreating group as long as she was able to discern the hunched silhouette among others.

Soon after Sebastian and his troop disappeared Emma decided to climb down. Fresh blood will attract predators – she needs to hurry and get supplies they've left in haste.

Emma was just picking up a big knife from the ground near the aforementioned corpse of a hairy moron when a voice grumbled somewhere to the left:

'Hey, blonde! Lend me a hand, will you?'

Her newfound ability to scream was astounding.

Moonlight cruelly highlighted the dead body of the bulky man. The corpse was clearly struggling to stand up.

'Shut up!' the corpse croaked. 'We're not in the park as you might have noticed. Do try to make as little noise as possible.'

As if to emphasize his remark something screeched in the depth of the forest. The growl which reached her ears was echoing in the dark. Screw it, she suppressed a shiver, Emma was fed up with this nonsense.

'What are you?' she asked in a cold tone which had cost her almost every ounce of self-control she currently possessed.

'I'm just the same as your dear Schmidt! Quit staring! Help me up! Do you think it's easy to restore the blood loss that… Goddamn! Are you blind or what?'

He was as heavy as an elephant and smelled of gore and dirt. Absolutely charming. Indignantly she sniffed and tried to step away as quickly as possible. Nasty smell was pure poison for her senses.

This Logan man was pointing in the direction of the forest.

'They're almost here…'

'Who?' Emma suddenly became agitated.

'Cannibals. Came all the way here to pick at your bones, blonde. Relax! That was a joke. This's Moira and kids.'

'That's not funny…' she hissed.

'Your yesterday prank was also far from amusing,' he retorted.

Yes, now she could see four people coming. Logan waved them and grumbled:

'I can't see him… Where is Xavier?'

'Sebastian decided that professor will accompany him from now on.'

Brevity is the soul of wit.

Logan grabbed her wrist.

'I'm not fooling around, blonde!'

'Likewise!'

Finally they were approached by the rest of the group. Woman has never lowered the rifle.

'Logan?' she squinted. 'Is that really you?'

'Me. Worry not. Do I need to remind you what you did in the quarters…'

'Cut it, Logan!' she stomped her foot in embarrassment. 'I've got your point!'

She has taken three more steps and practically threw herself in his arms.

Emma was too distracted to comment on it.

'We have many questions. And this time I won't turn a blind eye. Honestly, what the hell has happened to you?'

'Where's the professor?'

Moira looked back.

'Alex...'

'Schmidt, or Shaw, how he calls himself, has him, if we trust her words.'

'Why? What!...' cried out Alex.

'In order to ask him several questions in private. See, there's this thing I told him to get rid of and the blonde here had put so much effort into looking for it underneath his clothes…'

Emma shrugged:

'My methods are more efficient. And less painful than Sebastian's, trust me. Stop calling me names, you animal!'

Logan never let her continue:

'We have to go this instant! Took what you deem necessary and follow me. All scrum from the jungles soon will be there. I'll tell you everything you need to know later. Hey, ginger, where have you been to? Didn't I mention that the moment you decide to have a stroll on your own you're dead? Are you also mad or what?'

'Excuse me, Mr. Howlett!' Sean, that was his name she guessed, was holding something vaguely familiar.

'Professor's diary…' he panted. 'Didn't want to leave it…'

What a precious moment! To risk one's life to get some rotten book. They're doomed.

'I'm begging you!' Emma rolled her eyes.

No one reacted. These people don't appreciate her hard efforts to distract them and lighten up the mood. The fools.

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Erik was moving quickly. He preferred to use the higher floors of the jungles for his trips. It was faster that way.

Today he woke up together with first sun rays only to feel anxiety and hear distant commotion. Something was troubling the forest. Hunters have hardly managed to crawl this far. They must have been overly fearless or completely insane.

Erik was responsible for his native land even though it was part of wild jungles. Soon, he reached the river and his worries were confirmed – there were traces of the recent massacre. The smell of blood was heavy in the air and the inhabitants of the forest had clearly worked at making the bodies almost indiscernible. He chose the tree to explore the river bank from the height. Someone has shared his preference for this observation point. Erik paid attention to the rope burns on the tree trunk. The person stayed there for a while and took all precautions not to fall down.

The tents left in disarray proved that there were more people in the group than corpses on the ground.

He needs to look closer. There were two separate groups, he decided. Perhaps, they were moving in the same direction. It was evident that they have crossed the river. There were numerous traces of heavy boots on the opposite river bank. Part of troop or mercenaries?

Six people were following them. Clear tracks… Why didn't those six turn back? The tribe occupying this part of the forest was certainly dangerous and hostile. Especially to those from good old Europe. Erik observed their traditional celebrating feast a couple of times when he was a young boy. He hadn't understood those humans that time – why did they eat someone from their own pack if there were a lot of more delicious things. And what about pure enjoyment that you felt after finally catching your prey? They were not that hungry, he mused later on. It was just a ritual. No more and no less. However, balls and other entertainments in so-called higher society bore distinct resemblance to those humble dinners in cannibalistic circles.

Six were slower than the bigger group. Erik was faster than both of them altogether. Cautiously, he watched four people sitting around the small fire. Two women were facing away from him. A ginger lanky young man was talking to them. Something told him to stay away from them. A burly man, vaguely familiar, was vigilantly observing his surroundings. He'd better retreat.

Where are the others?

He caught a faint smell – humans. About sixty yards to the north he saw two men. They were surely arguing too loud for people who have breached the territory of the vicious tribe. No instincts and no brains. But wait, the taller one turned around and looked up.

'Who's there?'

Erik was looking at the one Henry McCoy.

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Alex was a mess. While Moira was telling them what had happened, he sat in silence. When he opened his mouth, he started blaming himself, blaming Moira before she told him off. Lady MacTaggert claimed that she was not as kind as certain professor and she would gladly teach him his place by leaving Alex alone in the jungles.

Now Alex is trying to rehabilitate.

'Hank, why are we sitting here? We can be too late and he can already…' Alex gulped.

He couldn't bring himself to continue the sentence.

'We're very tired. You're almost feverish with fatigue. If not for mister Howlett, we would never make it this far. Let's be realistic, Alex. What can we possibly do?'

'But ...'

'Surely, you've heard mister Howlett. He'll do everything in his might to help us. It turns out… he's sort of immortal,' Hank rubbed his forehead.

'This's madness. It doesn't fit, although I must trust my eyes… Given that proof. Supernatural abilities, treasures, this amazing regeneration and the Lost City… I need more data.'

'You're crazy, man. How do you imagine collecting it? Will you ask that bastard to please stand still because we need to fire a gun and see if bullet makes a hole in your head?'

'At this rate, captain is invincible,' Hank was worried – he was not a naïve fool Alex thought him to be.

The professor was in grave danger and they didn't have much time, but still… It'll be no good to die in vain. He was not even taking Sean into account. That left Mister Howlett, Alex and himself – hardly a capable team, he must admit. Their only chance is to come up with a good plan. For about two minutes he was haunted by a feeling of someone's penetrating gaze.

Maybe, it'll look stupid, but he doesn't care anymore. He turned around and asked the tree under which they're standing now.

'Hmm… Excuse me. Who's there?'

Frankly, he didn't expect to receive the answer so quickly. A tall, almost naked fair-skinned man has apparently jumped down from the tree. How could a person jump from that height was one question. The other one was what in the name of god was this man, who looked more civilized with his clean-shaved face than Hank himself, doing in the jungles. Was he spying on others' conversations out of curiosity? Perhaps, he was another one of those superhuman beings they've encountered…

'Henry McCoy!' stated the stranger in a firm tone.

Alex was gaping at him like a very surprised blue-eyed fish.

'Um, yes. And could you possibly be?...'

'We've met. Do you remember "Caspartina"?'

'Oh, now that you've mentioned the ship. Excuse me, sir. Of course, I do remember you – you're a friend of professor, right?' Hank could never stop the babbling when he was nervous.

'Where is Charles?' the man asked. Something in his manner of speech made Hank cringe. 'I thought, you were travelling together.'

Hank needed to find the right words but all of them seemed to escape him at once.

'Captain Shaw took him. He is crazy and thinks that the professor will give him the key to the Lost City!' he heard Alex voice too late to clamp a hand over his stupid mouth.

'And bullets can't kill him, you know…'

Hank was sure that the man has just shifted before his eyes. His unmovable and steely expression has morphed into something else – his face darkened and he suddenly bared his teeth like a wild beast.

'Please, help us to rescue him, sir?' Alex's last remark has met nothing but air.

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Previously, Charles thought that he was quite accustomed to pain. Indeed, he has already experienced bad bruises and broken bones, courtesy of Cain; and has burned himself a couple of times when he attempted to get friendly with the kitchen in his small apartment in Oxford. That taught him well. After the initial shock and sharp pain, he was still alive and functioning - if not always as well as before. With that in mind, he wondered what was awaiting him now.

His head hurt like never before. His legs were threatening to give out, and all other senses were dimmed and dulled as if he was walking through the thick sleazy fog.

The same man from before, Madrox, was occasionally pushing him forward. Once, Charles didn't manage to maintain his unsteady balance and tripped. Madrox cursed him and the barrel of his rifle painfully connected with Charles' side – it has nearly made Charles black out right on the spot. He didn't realize how and when was he hauled back to his feet. That was a pure miracle that he could stand and even move his feet, he briefly entertained the thought. He could no longer feel his hands due to the tight rope binding them together. If he wants to escape, he has to cut the rope at least. Somehow... The idea seemed distant and phantasmagoric, but he held to it with everything he had.

When the sky began to color with the first sun rays, captain Shaw called his men to a halt. Don't they see that their leader is clearly unstable? Why do they allow him to lead the group to certain death?

Shaw motioned Madrox to follow him. Madrox promptly rose to his feet and dragged Charles to the forest, hurrying to match his captain's steps.

Shaw didn't go far. He chose to sit under the big tree on the stone, which was a cruel imitation of the chair.

'Untie him!'

Madrox, paying absolutely no thought to Charles desperate hopes, yanked his hands up and cut a rope with a knife meanwhile slicing skin. Charles has bitten his lip hard. Blood rushed into numb limbs which made the pain more intensifying. Charles has let himself sink to his knees. He would gladly lie down just here, dignity be damned – he mused through heavy fog coating his mind. Let him rest, not much… Maybe, half an hour or so...

The hand touched his face in almost gentle way and forced his chin up. Shaw was looking him in the eye and Charles, in his state of magnificent reality detachment, registered fear in the depth of man's gaze. It's a pity, giggled his inner voice in a very uncharacteristic fashion. We are suddenly sharing some friendly atmosphere but Charles is too far gone to care. Ah, sure, I'm in shock, he tiredly closed his eyes. I'm totally allowed to have some fun before I'll finally join all Xavier's dynasty drinking contest up there – Charles was positive that his family afterlife heaven looked like one…Well, if he takes into account himself and what he remembers of his father there might be some exceptions…

Shaw slapped him awake.

'Professor, I honestly didn't expect you to act like that,' said the madman meanwhile. 'Believe me, I don't want to hurt you. We'll soon run out of prominent young scholars at this rate.'

He paused for a moment – which gave Charles enough time to tame his treacherous tongue – and continued:

'I need the key, my son. Let's not pretend that you don't know what I mean.'

'First of all, I'm tired of people pointing out that they are older and thus must be respected on the terms which I don't personally distinguish,' Charles' voice struggled to overcome the terrible scratchiness of his throat. 'Secondly, you are not my father and please don't refer to me as such…' Shaw's face contorted in a violent spasm. 'And as you have obviously looked through my personal belongings, not to mention lady Frost's attempts to express a... hmm... particular interest in my persona. You could have been more discreet…'

'Now, this is more and more entertaining, young man. What have you done with your watch, then?'

'Threw it away,' he wasted no time to respond. 'As I was given a good advice.'

'Oh, yes…' Shaw has visibly sunk down on himself and finally pulled away. 'I trust you,' he nodded seriously, 'and I've always been able to find out a lie in one's words. You may call it a special ability of mine if you want.'

Charles wasn't fooled by the false calm and watched captain with caution, meanwhile observing his surroundings. He has to distract those two and quickly. His chances to escape were slowly fading away like a desert mirage.

Suddenly, Madrox grabbed his shoulders and twisted his left arm behind his back. Charles gasped when Shaw abruptly seized his free hand and Madrox showed him in his direction. That's all; he registered a single hysterical thought – oh lord, he will not just kill me.

'Watch carefully, professor. I'll demonstrate you a natural phenomenon, which is really worth your attention.'

Dreamily, Shaw smiled and straightened his index finger gently tapping it with his own. Whistling something under his breath, he touched the second knuckle and although Charles was bracing himself he was almost deafened by the scream. It felt as if his finger was completely crashed under the stone press. Holy goodness… His eyes had watered and he wasn't able to contain a sob. He needs it, part of his mind cried within Charles, Shaw needs your pain and your humiliation more than anything. He forced himself quiet but… He couldn't. His head was murdering him and he felt more and more nauseated with every second...

'Don't disappoint me, this is only one finger,' Shaw shook his head smiling in a strangely serene way.

Charles bit lower lip enough to draw blood.

When Shaw broke his middle finger, Charles heard the distinct crunch of bone through his cry. Shaw hummed in satisfaction. Charles thought he would lose consciousness after the fourth. His hand hurt like hell and was terribly swollen. He started trembling after the second broken finger and couldn't stop. Hot tears were freely streaming down his cheeks and he sobbed, ashamed and unbearably terrified and tired. So tired…

He was slipping away – every single fiber of his being filled with pain and constricting despair.

Shaw patted his shoulder in mock encouragement and casually observed:

'Have you ever seen the force of nature more intriguing? This strength presents incredible opportunities. Don't get me wrong but if you had tasted it once, there is no chance in the world that you'll forget it. Let's continue. I'm sure – this one will not leave you indifferent.'

Captain put a hand on Charles' chest. Please, he silently begged all deities he could think of, let me faint. Please, let me rest…

The heat was unexpectedly cruel and piercing. It was burning him whole and its violent intent ate at his tortured body with monstrous hunger. He screamed, screamed and screamed… As if trying to break free by the sheer power of his strained voice.

Fire flashed before his mind's eye and Charles fell into oblivion.