The next thing Rogue knew was her neck hurt. She had her head in one position for too long, slung forward, and she was most certainly upright, and it ached mightily. But others were talking, and she wanted to listen in on their conversation. So she kept her head in that position, willing her eyes to remain closed, and to feign unconsciousness for as long as she could.

"She can't stay here, Bastion," someone said as her senses returned to her. "My people aren't anywhere near prepared to encounter the X-Men again - not yet - we already discovered that the hard way weeks ago after we tried to capitalize on that compound in Westchester. Her mere presence here threatens our entire movement now, just as our voice has begun to be heard, just as public opinion has a chance of swaying in our - "

"Yes, yes, Mr. Trask," another voice interjected. She knew them, was familiar with them from the ambush earlier. It was the one who shot her.

'Bastion's his name,' she thought to herself before the man continued.

"I'll certainly keep all your concerns in mind. As for you, mutant," Bastion said as he turned to address her. "You can cease pretending you're unconscious now. Information is not going to assist you any longer. It is of no longer any value to you, or your concern, really. This base has psi-damper devices across it. You are completely neutralized, and are no threat to us."

"Sure, Bastion." Rogue said, dripping sarcasm. "Really is silly of me to think Ah might wanna figure out who's illegally detainin' me." She play-tugged at one shackled wrist. "Omnium, huh? Government gray too. Y'all got some help from D.C.?" she asked, pouring a little extra honey on her voice, though she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with them.

She was merely stalling for time; a way to think out of her predicament and also obtain further information. The lessons Ororo and Scott taught them were ingrained deep, even in the girl who came to them too powerful. Too many times in her life she had found herself without her vaunted strengths. The first time she had overestimated herself, in Genosha, it had nearly ruined her.

Never again.

"As I said, mutant. You no longer have to worry about such topics." Bastion said as one of the soldiers detached from the equipment around them and reported to their commander. As they did, Rogue took in her surroundings.

A large, sterile room, it was clearly underground. The braced device they had plugged her into was also taking her vitals; no wonder they knew whether she was conscious or not. There were barrels of items with the 'Warning! Explosive!' stocked around her. And there was a large series of soldiers; some in full modern day equivalent of scaled armor, others in battle fatigues that had armor built into it. Each of these had their guns trained on Rogue, as if she were about to burst from the government created super-powered detainment device. Laughable, really. All this fear and hate. And her alleged crime was that she merely existed. They picked this fight. And they were terrified.

"Commander. All is set. Doors are secure." Bastion dismissed the man who exited the room swiftly.

"Do not worry about that conversation, mutant. It is classified under a need-to-know basis. Speaking of," Bastion turned to Trask, in his urbane business suit that had him so at odds with the armored men here, and Bastion's sere shadowlike clothing making him look like one dark shadow.

"Say no more, Bastion." Trask said easily, "We've maintained maximum deniability from the outset of this operation. Let's keep that maintained. Bastion thank you as always for your assistance and discretion. Remember; the name Trask carries far. For good, or for ruin."

After the human left the room, Bastion turned back to Rogue and considered her. "I hadn't expected to find an X-Man, nor particularly you, Rogue." He paced a bit to one side and issued a quick order to one of his subordinates before going to one of the readout machines near Rogue's restraints. After determining something, he nodded to himself and returned to stand before the captive mutant.

Rogue was testing the shackles the entire time. Omnium was…difficult. Nearly as good as adamantium, and she wasn't too certain she could break through the metal with brute strength. She'd have to keep testing it, trying to stress any of the joining spots. Maybe she could…

"I have a conundrum, and a potentially sublime solution." Bastion said, as he regarded her. "While some countries have gladly embraced my objective of ridding them of mutant strains in their nations, I've had some trouble drumming up enough support in this country. Too in love with caped heroes, I think; and unwilling to yet pull the trigger on necessary legislation. But perhaps you can provide the answer."

"An' what if Ah don't wanna play ball?" Rogue asked, glowering at him. She knew that torture would be on the menu today, they'd have to resort to that to even attempt to sway her opinion. She expected it, and knew how to fight it. She'd never help anyone spread hatred like that ever again. Pain only begot pain.

She knew they'd find a way to make it hurt, though she hadn't expected them to find a solution so quickly. High electric currents flowed through the restraints and into Rogue. She screamed from the bottom of her lungs; nigh invulnerable still meant that the pain still registered, even if it didn't leave a mark.

She strained against her bonds in the throes of her ordeal, until she was certain she'd dislocated something. The shackles held. As the current finally ceased coursing through her, she slumped against the restraints, attempting to catch her breath. It hadn't been too bad, it had been bad enough, of course. And more would come. Smoke wafted from her as the generators nearby hummed; another round was forthcoming.

"Vitals stable," a technician reported. Bastion nodded and set his mouth from grim lines to pleased one.

"Oh, we don't need you willing, or able; my dear." Bastion said, continuing the conversation as if the last thirty seconds hadn't transpired. "We only need to find your corpse amongst the ruins of this, one of Humanity's Last Stand's most secure locations. Clearly the one who committed arson, killed 50 peaceful families, a celebrated X-Man who died during their days in Dallas, and then again when you died in Manhattan." He leaned forward. "Yes; I remember that day intimately. You were sucked into a strange gate."

Rogue couldn't help herself. She gasped. "What're…what're you talking about?" she asked before another bolt of electricity coursed through her body. Shrieking externally, internally she was counting. Eventually, and it felt too long, she was counting the last seconds. 'Twenty eight…twenty nine…thirty…'

"Don't play dumb, Rogue," he chided as the technicians reported her vitals. Stable again, which seemed to irk the man. It wasn't that she had been lying, and apparently his machine wasn't going to confirm it. How was she supposed to know who this yahoo was? She never laid eyes on him before, not in any day of her life til now. Bastion ordered them to hurry up, and turned back to her.

"I was there; and you saw my birth, my merging with the one known as Mastermold; you went through the gate with me. I never saw what happened to you afterward. But I, I was reborn, given new flesh." Bastion held up one hand, studying it thoughtfully.

"I-...Impossible…" Rogue breathed. Bastion shook his head and gave the signal. She braced herself for another bolt, though it really didn't do that much to prepare her. 'He had blown himself up!' she managed to recall, even as her body spasmed with the spiking current. She remembered that clearly, at the construction site, just before the explosion obscured her vision. When Mastermold and Nimrod self-destructed she was pulled along and had tumbled through strange cosmic pathways to be judged by something so alien her mind still couldn't understand, all these years later.

The operators flipped a switch, typed a command. Another long bout of electric charge was directed into her. As she counted down the seconds, a trick learned from Logan, she also wondered why they were doing this. For effect? To see if they could get something out of her? To hopefully soften her up? She didn't think that any, especially the last, was possible. She had survived a lot, from stabbings, to bombs and missiles, to direct hits from galactic forces. However, she knew they were determined to see her limits exceeded. Rogue had to admit to herself she wasn't certain they'd have the firepower for it. She wasn't gravely injured - yet - but she knew this was going to be a long, painful night.

"I am unique, a mix of man, machine, and future. And you, my erstwhile, genetically backward sister, will serve the only purpose you could possibly have. Fanning the flames of hate, the spark that will ignite this martyrs' den."

"But first," Bastion snapped his fingers. Another round jolted to life, holding just as long as the others. Rogue felt like her eyes were going to leap from her head, but in spite of that fear, she kept them open. No, she didn't need to show any weakness yet.

'Thirty second bouts; don' think they can sustain 'em longer than that. Needs half that time t'charge. For now.'

"We need a corpse. We need your corpse. Won't you oblige us? Call it a gesture of familial piety, Bastion said before he paused, acting as if he were waiting for Rogue to reply. She counted the seconds in her head, proving her hypothesis when exactly eight seconds - the full fifteen - he gestured and the machines sparked to life once more. Thirty seconds of torment, of pain that humans normally only experience once in their life if they're unfortunate enough to be struck by a high voltage cable. They endure it only once because that's due to the fact most don't survive.

Rogue did. Second after second, as they turned to minutes, and then hours. She endured, not particularly worse for wear according to her vitals and an increasingly irate Bastion. He was demanding the technicians to direct more power into their machines, and was constantly on the phone demanding further generators and supplies be provided.

"...Whatsa matter, B-bast…bastar-...Bastion?" Rogue asked, playing up the mistaken name, but not her jittering teeth. Her entire body was spasming wildly in between each of the sessions. She felt like Ororo focused all her attention on Rogue for the past…past…how many cycles? She counted them up in her head, and estimated roughly 3 hours had passed…but she wasn't certain. Did she carry enough zeroes in her head? It was hard to keep your mind on such ephemeral subjects as that when you were being electrocuted with a neighborhood's worth of electricity every ten minutes. "Got some…whereta…ta be?"

Okay, maybe not all of it was played up. She was getting tired. A living wall for the X-Men still deserved a true measure of respite between these difficult ordeals. She knew she could hold out at this level…but she wondered what would come next. And what might happen if the X-Men never found out? What if she were stuck here; trapped for however long their hate held them out? Scenarios flooded her mind, interrupted only by pain, and a counter flicking numbers in her mind. She had to remain strong.

"I don't care if they're two states over; you don't need that many for a group of genetic beatniks!" Bastion snarled as he slammed the landline phone down on its cradle. He turned back to Rogue, twitching from the latest round. "Do it again."

"But sir, the coils aren't -"

"Again." The generators whined and there was a thick smell of diesel in the air as the voltage was increased. It barely made it twenty three seconds before dying suddenly. Rogue slumped against her bonds. On top of everything she was getting a terrible headache.

"No good, sir. We've increased the output at your direction, but it hasn't been enough to cause a fata-"

CRASH. BOOM. BA-BOOM.

Rogue wearily lifted her head. There was a loud irregular thudding, banging noise that was coming through the thickly reinforced walls.

Before anyone could say anything else the doors began to…contract upon themselves. Like enormous hands crunched them off their hinges and their guide rails. They wadded together, aluminum foil that had served its purpose, and flew with a purpose into one of the larger armored guards, pinning it to the wall. Various substances leaked out from the chassis, but one was definitely not for an automaton. It was most definitely blood.

'There's people in those things' Rogue thought to herself once, twice, then a third time. She was getting fatigued, it was hard keeping her attention on anything that wasn't a number.

From the smoke filled hallway, a figure was emerging.

"Who the devil-" Bastion broke off saying as another of his soldiers in the large armor was flung into one of the technicians, the metal drowning out the sound of bones crunching.

"Devil," the person, a man, said from inside their armor. "is an apt word. But not for me!" Humanity's Last Stand opened fire. If they hit whoever that person was, it was impossible to tell as a cloud of obscuring smoke filled the room, backdraft from further down the hall.

The men's laser sights were darting through the debris, tracking their paths. "Can't find the mutant, sir." One of the large machines reported.

The very same large machine was crumpled suddenly into a ball, the squealing metal like nails on a chalkboard. It was flung to one side, knocking into another of the machines, causing it to spill to the ground. The balled up remains of the man piloting machine as well as the device itself were still utilized, sweeping across the room in wide swaths, barreling through and along anyone in its path. Rogue tugged at her restraints, and they remained immobile. It was definitely time to go.

"Fry the mutant!" Bastion demanded, raising a pistol towards the clearing smoke. "Don't stop until she flatlines!" The electric currents started once again, the pain started once more. He shot at the shadowed form who was advancing slowly on them. The lone man raised his hand and balled it into a fist.

As she began to once again experience that now familiar agony the polarities suddenly reversed. At the same time, Rogue's restraints…melted. That was the only word for it. They melted away from her limbs, but spiked forward, streaking towards their armored adversaries and spearing them from behind. The machine that administered the electric currents exploded in a flash of light, and echoing boom. The technicians administering the torture were knocked off their feet, screaming as they were electrocuted, the charge amplified from the explosion to extinguish their lives.

Rogue tumbled to the ground, her overstressed muscles crying for a moment before she could pull herself upright. It stood to reason this person had extremely powerful abilities, either with metal, inorganic substances, or even worse, reality. Whatever it was, Rogue knew she was up against someone who could match and maybe best her. And she wasn't in the best of shape. As she got into a half-seated position, she saw the mutant - and mutant he sure must be - man advancing on her, with that same hand now outstretched. This time, however, it was instead of an attack, it was extended as if to help her up. A shot rang out, he must've been distracted, and it hit his helmet, knocking it off his head.

Long white hair spilled out, hiding piercing - familiar! - eyes for a brief moment. They had a look of hard fury in them, but it wasn't directed at her.

"Allow me to help you," a smooth, cultured voice said. It was different from the voice she remembered, of Magnus, or Erik as he was also sometimes called. That accent was from Europe, while this one from the man before her sounded more like somewhere in Central America. And then again it was different from the other Magneto, the one that looked exactly like this man. Here before her was someone who was so familiar, and yet was so unique all unto themself and Rogue was struggling mightily in that moment to make sense of it.

'Oh-God-it's-him-it's-MagnusErikMagneto-I-can't-move-can't-breathe-SinisterheSinister-said-it-was-all-a-dream-it's-not-real-but-it'sMagnusErikMagneto-he's-here' Words in her mind flashed as her memories whirled. Of the world coming to an end as Erik held her and her child. More memories, her own?, when Magneto killed Zaladane, when he tore the adamantium from Logan's body and when the world exploded around her when she tried to talk him down from taking the nuclear missiles from the Leningrad. More memories, coming faster. Fighting Carol in San Francisco, remembering the Avengers, flying to Avalon, falling through a portal to someplace with people called Shi'Ar. Sinister telling her she's chasing a dream that never existed. Unfamiliar stars whirling through a sky as she, a double-agent, burned with jealousy and hatred for another.

Why did he look like her husband? Where was her son? Was she still on Earth?! Which Earth?!

She felt like the world was shrinking rapidly, too much trauma, too much shock all at once.