"I know you're there, sorcerer."
You can see me?
"'Seeing' is a rather inaccurate term for how I am able to perceive you. But take my word for it that I know you're there."
Damn.
Not only could she "see" me, she could also "hear" me … and that was a trick I couldn't even pull off myself!
"I take it you're here to rescue me?"
More or less.
For all her air of detachment, competence, she was young. Younger than me. Maybe possibly she was 20. She didn't look quite as pretty in real life as she had in her projected image. She was thin—not super model thin but rather "I'm lucky if I see a 1000 calories on a good day" kind of way. Her eyes were blue—and had a lifetime's worth of pain in them. "More or less?"
Well, the X-Men are here with me. It's going to be a bit tough for me to do much in the way of rescuing without my body.
"You can't cast some sort of spell to free me?"
Why does everyone think that all I have to do is say "abracadabra" and all my problems are solved?
"Where are the X-Men?"
On their way. Hopefully these Sentinels aren't going to delay them too long.
"The Sentinels are barely functional. I doubt they will be able to stop the X-Men. They weren't in good shape to begin with, and the trip nearly finished them."
The X-Men said that you're something called a Hound. That you could be from the future. Judging by the shape of this ship I'm assuming we're talking more a "Mad Max" than "Star Trek" kind of time.
"I have no idea what you just said."
A future that didn't know about Mad Max or Star Trek? Now I was really horrified.
(Okay, that's sarcasm. I do that sometimes. You may or may not have noticed that.)
"But, yes, I am from the future, and it is not a pleasant one. There has been a devastating war between humans, mutants, and Sentinels."
Who won?
"No one. There can be no victor in a war that causes the near total destruction of the planet. In my time, the world is dying. This jaunt through time was the last desperate attempt to prevent the complete annihilation of everything."
"Who are you talking to, Blythe?"
I turned and saw the giant lumbering form of Iron Horse. With him was the cyborg, Metalyx. The woman looked angry—but then I suppose I'd be permanently pissed off too if the only part of me left was the head.
"I told you it was folly to allow her any self-awareness, Iron Horse. You know what she's done. You know what she's capable of."
"You're a fine one to talk, Metalyx. How many of my people did you kill? How many women and children have you murdered?"
"It was war!" Whether or not Metalyx believed that, I wasn't sure. "What I did was necessary. You ... your crimes were committed after the war was over! Why else did your own kind bind you over to this task, mutant?"
"What's done is done. Our time … our future … ends unless we can undo what has been done. The mutant, Rogue … her powers are the only hope we have to recover what was lost in the war." Iron Horse turned his head in a three hundred and sixty degree arc. (At least he wasn't spitting out pea soup). "I am scanning to see if I can detect who Blythe is speaking to."
"You won't find anything, robot." Blythe struggled to her feet. "Even your fabled ancestors couldn't find what didn't exist." The look she gave Iron Horse was one of complete and utter hatred—far more than the disdain she felt for Metalyx.
"A Stark will always find a way. You know that, Blythe."
"You are not a Stark, robot! You're just a machine!"
"You didn't used to think so. You used to call me friend."
"I trusted you, Stark!"
"I thought you said I was not a Stark, Blythe."
"I believed in you, Anthony! I fought beside you! I loved you! And you did this to me! You enslaved me!"
"I had no choice, Blythe. This was necessary. Is necessary. There was no other way. That's why Metalyx joined me. That's why the last of the mutants aided in your capture. Your power was the only way we had to return to the past."
"So logical, so precise, Anthony. I can remember when you had a softer touch." Her eyes flickered towards Metalyx. "Does she know about that? How you used to touch me? Of course you were different then. Smaller. Almost human."
"You were different then too."
"The sorcerer, mutant," Metalyx said suddenly. "I have not been able to find mention of him in our records. Do you know who he is? Did you arrange for his presence when we tried to acquire Rogue?"
"Oh no, Metalyx. That was simply your bad luck. Perhaps if he hadn't been there you would have Rogue and we would have already returned home. As it is, you're going to have to deal with the alerted X-Men with only Anthony's ramshackle Sentinels to help you."
"You will help us, Blythe." There was a trace of vindictive pleasure in Metalyx's voice. "You have no choice in the matter."
"She is trying to distract us," Iron Horse announced suddenly. "She was speaking to someone when we arrived. They may still be here."
"And yet invisible to your sensors?" Metalyx's hands twitched and suddenly one looked some kind of pistol while the other was a heavy bladed weapon. "How can that be? No known mutant affiliated with the X-Men should have that power at this time."
"It must be the sorcerer."
"Damn him! Are you still here, sorcerer?!" Metalyx's eyes searched the air. She began firing wild blasts from the hand that had become the pistol. "I won't let you destroy our plans! We will save the world!"
"Metalyx! Stop it! You're going to—"
Her wild blasts struck the device atop Blythe's cage. It crackled with the blast and then went dead.
And Blythe laughed.
"Thank you, sorcerer! Thank you, Metalyx!"
She gestured, and the cage about her exploded.
"Now let's have all the players together, shall we?"
She gestured, and suddenly Remy, Rogue, Hank, and my body were present.
Not being much use as Kyle the Friendly Spirit, I dove back into body.
"Shield of Seraphim!"
I cast the spell around the X-Men and myself. I'd like to say that I would have done the same for Iron Horse and Metalyx if they had been closer, but I honestly don't know.
"Kyle! What's happening?!"
"It appears that the mysterious Ms. Blythe has managed to free herself."
"X-Men!" Iron Horse shouted. "You must help us subdue her! Blythe Storm is too dangerous to allow her freedom!"
"Oh hush, Anthony."
Iron Horse and Metalyx were both frozen in mid-air.
"Blythe … Storm?" Remy asked.
"Indeed, Mr. LeBeau." Blythe rose into the air. "I have to say that it's an honor to meet all of you. You're almost family. My grandfather was almost one of you—and my great-grandfather fought you time and again."
"Who are you?" Rogue hissed, taking a protective stance in front of Remy and myself.
"She is Magneto's great-grandchild, mutant! Now kill her before she slays us all!" Metalyx struggled to free herself, but she was no more able to move than Iron Horse.
"And my other grandfather is Jonathan Storm, otherwise known as the Human Torch." Blythe smiled almost coyly at us. "And now that my family history is out of the way, let me explain why we are here."
"She is mad!" Metalyx screamed.
"Quite probably so," Blythe admitted calmly. "But then again, the times we live in are rather mad. There was a war, X-Men. A war between human, mutant, and Sentinel that devastated the planet. I was a Hound. I led the Sentinels to my people's hiding places—I helped them find and kill them until Anthony—Iron Horse here—saved me."
"This be the monologue, Kyle," Remy whispered to me. "Try to act like you're interested."
"I loved him for that. I fought with him to try to stop the war—and the more I fought, the more my power grew."
"She killed the strongest among us," Metalyx whispered. "Mastermold. The most powerful mutants. Our greatest human leaders. Even after there was a ceasefire, she continued killing."
"And then Anthony betrayed me. I trusted him. And he used that trust to help them capture me. And then he chained me. Used me to power this ship. Used my power to fuel his time machine. Enslaved me just like the Sentinels did." She shrugged. "I will not forgive you for that, Anthony."
"Why did they want me?" Rogue asked.
"You contain the echoes of some of the most powerful beings in history … their powers, their knowledge … Anthony hoped they could use you as a template to draw those powers back into existence, use that knowledge to restore the planet."
"Blythe," Hank said suddenly. "You have ample reason to hate Anthony and Metalyx. But do not do this. Do not give into your hatred, your lust for revenge. Your grandfather Jonathan is a good man. He would not want you to do this. And Magneto … "
He trailed off.
"If they had asked me, I would have helped them," Blythe said softly. "If he had asked, I would have helped. But they didn't ask. They took. They used me. I won't be used again. Not by Anthony. Not by Metalyx. My world—my time—it deserves to die. They deserve to die. They all deserve to die."
Ah, crud.
I didn't want to do this. This wasn't my fight. Not my place.
But I couldn't stand by and let people die.
"Blythe," I said, and my voice sounded pretty shaky, even to me. "I can't let you do this. I won't let you do this."
"You really think you can stop me, sorcerer?" Blythe asked, sounding more amused than I had yet heard her. "You with your little bag of tricks? Your handful of spells? You really think you can stop one of the most powerful Psionics in history from doing anything?"
"I guess we're about to find out."
And I stepped free of my world and raised my hands for a fight that was probably going to be very short, and very painful.
Damn.
I should have known that Rogue would be the death of me.