Heeeeyyyyyy…

There's nothing I can really say that will make up for it. But I have never really given up. I have eight chapters left. I know what needs to happen. I'm trying to get there. This would be an accomplishment of a lifetime.

I hope the years have been kind to y'all.

Chapter 35: Ships in the Night

Incredibly, considering our destination, de mood lightened round de ol' T'ieves den as we drew near to our invisible deadline. Time, on de uddah hand, grew conversely obstinate. I knew when I was going to see her next, and it felt like I had broken surface and could breathe ag'in, but no matter how many times I ran de numbers dere were still too many days left between den and now. Logan resigned as warden: we bot' knew we'd leave de Big Easy togeddah. I had no reason to shake him. In fact, I'd prefer a little backup breaking back into de X-men. We drank and smoked and gambled and t'ieved a little but all dose activities combined only took us up to about 10:00am, leaving us bot' to wear holes in de carpet, dogs worrying bones.

Do any o' y'all know dat Logan is...not great…wit' computers?

It occurred to me dat we were gon' need some gear dat wasn' readily available in de bayou fo' dis renegade maneuver. I tasked Logan wit' using the modern wonder o' internet shopping to get us square, t'ought it would kill a couple hours while I took a trip to town wit' Henri.

All seemed well enough when we arrived home. Logan had Emil out in de yard, giving him some tips on hand-to-hand combat. Close as he could get to de danger room down here. Logan appeared crisp an' collected: Emil was drenched wit' sweat.

"Salut, mes amis." Emil met my eyes wit' relief, hoping his little tete-a-tete was at it's end.

"Yer computer's broke." Logan cast over his shoulder.

"You can be de king o' non sequiturs. What you mean s'broke?"

"Was already not workin' right, I just helped it along."

I blinked a few times den made my way inside. I'd set him up in de kitchen earlier, you know, wit' snacks all hospitable-like. And how had de homme repaid my care? Four holes in de top o' my laptop, through de keyboard, exit holes out de back.

Logan had followed me inside, having at least enough decency to look at de ground.

"Ran into some issues."

"Dis is not an 'issue', homme, dis is a crime scene."

"Next time give me something that works, not some back woods refurb."

De barb landed dully, not even a scratch. I have no insecurities about my tech. We may not have de resources o' de Professor at our disposal, but de T'ieves do NOT deal in junk. We deal in open source custom builds and dark web fo' privacy purposes. I'd outfitted dis particular device my own self. Naively, I t'ought Logan could handle it.

I turned around and leveled him wit' an incredulous gaze. "Now I know you not gon' sit here and bust up my tech and den insult me about it when you in my home wit'out an invitation."

Logan grumbled and pushed past me to grab a beer out o' de fridge.

Tante Mattie appeared seemingly out o' nowhere and snatched it out o' his hand as soon as de door closed. "Temper tantrums or not, dis my kitchen and we serve coffee and water only befo' noon."

Logan rolled his eyes but everyone had already figured he preferred Mattie out o' anybody in de house, and she always pushes her advantage. He plopped down at the table and if I didn' know better I'd say his demeanor was sullen.

Mattie looked at me wit' some apology, her reading glasses hanging around her neck. "I did try to help, Remy, but we couldn't get de…de what do you call it…de app on de phone wit' dem codes?"

"De multi-factor authentication?"

"Yes, dat, you got so many codes in dere by time we could find de one we t'ought we needed and get it entered de code would change. Some o' de sites weren't looking right, missing scroll bars and t'ings like dat. I know you tol' me befo' usually dat means you got to update…some'ting…so we tried to find it but den it asked for an administrator password and I didn' have dat, so we tried to use de VPN. I know it's not de best but I used to know how to use it to get a normal operating system, but…"

I wanted to give Logan a hard time, but de picture in my mind's eye o' Logan and Tante Mattie wit' her reading glasses in here trying to get around my security measures and squinting at de screen and remember de names fo' t'ings was so precious I had to clench my teeth to keep from laughing.

Not'ing gets by Mattie.

"If you dare laugh I will skin yo' hide so good dey'll start calling you Remy LeBald. All yo' stuff is over complicated and you know it."

"De whole world must seem complicated when yo' a dinosaur."

Logan cut a warning glance up at me, "Watch yer tone, bub."

"Don't you worry about me none, he gets mouthy but he's never whooped me yet." Mattie waved her hand dismissively at me.

I held up the carcass of my laptop, "You let him commit murder cause you couldn't remember how to update de drivers? I done showed you dis mo' dan once, Tante."

"And how many tries did it take me to teach you to drive stick? Or learn all de knots and when to use dem? Or-,"

"But did I pitch a fit or did I say 'Thanks Tante Mattie' and go on wit' my day?"

"Well I didn' break the darn thing!"

"Way to throw me under the bus there, lady."

Mattie rolled her eyes, "If you want to pass off your crime, don't leave your calling card. Not too many suspects leave four evenly spaced holes behind. Also, next time perhaps give a lady a heads up befo' you resort to violence. And FURTHERMORE, yo' gon' fix my table befo' you go galavanting off anywhere. I might even find some uddah t'ings fo' you to fix now I t'ink o' it."

"Hey! I'm de one who's sustained property damage, I'm de one s'posed to receive penance."

"Age befo' beauty, garcon."

"I'm Canadian, not Catholic. We don't do penance." Logan offered blandly.

"Canadians supposed to do courtesy and maple syrup but I don' see you doing dat either." Mattie fixed him with an unimpressed stare.

I sighed and took a closer loop at de laptop. He missed de hard drive, it was only de peripherals dat would have to be replaced and I had spares. No real harm done, jus' lost time.

"Might as well take her up on it, Logan. We got to have some way to keep you busy and obviously electronics are not going to be de winning distraction."

Mattie raised an eyebrow, but her tone was relaxed. "I am no man's distraction, Remy LeBeau. I am a whole destination."

Logan grunted approvingly. On a normal day, I t'ink he uses more sound effects dan actual words.

"Fine. I'll fix the table."

Finally, after an excruciating span of days, the alert popped up on my phone "Flight 7755 departs in 24 hours. Check in now?"

I discovered a new secondary mutant ability fo' checking in electronically to flights in a matter o' seconds. I headed downstairs to get Logan's passport details, having decided to get him a proper seat after all instead of checking him as an extra bag. But Jean-Luc was waiting fo' me, his usual air o' ominous intention wafting through de room like bad cologne.

My petulance had become a knee jerk reaction to his presence, I realized, but I tried to swallow it down. I had sort o' expected some kind o' follow up now dat dey knew I had been wit' de X-men. Long as he didn' try his usual nonsense to keep me. I hadn' mentioned to de family de dates and manner of our departure, jus' for extra precaution.

Wit' a deep breath, I strode in an sat down across from Jean-Luc, forcing myself to meet his eyes calmly. We studied each uddah, as we do, and I smirked at de familiarity. Dis ol' dance.

"Well?"

Jean-Luc took his sweet time, as he does. Finally, he opened a little unsteady, "You know I try to be economical wit' my words."

I sat up straight, like a student at a desk, "De leader o' de T'ieves Guild must always remember dat his words are weighed, scrutinized, and ultimately acted upon. Words are de liabilities o' intention." Part o' de T'ieves charters, trainings we're subjected to as pups.

He smirked back at me, but pondered a moment, befo' going on.

"I wanted to get mo' fo' you dan what I have, and I did try, but here we are, out o' time."

"What makes you say dat?" I asked wit' a little feigned shock. O' course he knew.

He smiled a little wider fo' a moment, but den his mouth dropped back into dat perpetual frown and his eyes looked away. "On n'y peut rien (it can't be helped). Remy, when you get dere you need to be prepared to face Essex. And whoever he's working fo', which is probably going to be even worse."

He kept his eyes off my face as a mercy. I waited a moment fo' de impact to pass and firmly slammed de door on my imagination. I needed mo'.

"What else you got?"

Jean-Luc looked back at me now, a hint o' pride on his face mixed wit' regret. "Back den, I had grown suspicious o' Essex, more so dan normal suspicion inherent in our sphere o' influence…" he trailed off.

"Jean-Luc, I'm trying to be patient here."

He shook his head lightly, as though trying to loosen de words, "Like I said, I try to be economical wit' my words but I have failed to find a way to package them right. And you do your very best to hear me wrong no matter what I say. But dis time…s' more important dat I say it. Up to you what you hear."

My leg started to bounce unconsciously as I gave what space I could manage fo' him to work through…whatever dis was.

"De mutant t'ing, Remy."

I guffawed. I couldn' help it. 'De mutant t'ing'?

He continued, eyebrows knit togeddah in determination, "I know dere's a lot o' political talk, social commentary. I know dere's a lot o' scripted 'right' answers dat everyone says and nobody understands, much less means…but de fact is, fo' me and so many like me, we had to parent blind. And we…I…made so many mistakes. I felt compelled to somehow comment on biology, science, theology, morality, psychology. No one had answers. What was healthy? What was safe? What was right? De news was filled wit' stories dat kept me up at night, desperate to protect you but not knowing how. Mon fils, mon petit vaurien, going through somet'ing I hadn' and couldn'. Dose eyes looking to me to know what to do and me empty handed. What I wan' to say to you…and I hope you hear it someday…is dat I really did try to figure out what was gonna be best fo' you. Sometimes, I t'ought it was finding a cure. Uddah times, I t'ought it was passing fo' human, keeping it secret. Later on, I t'ought it was making you as powerful as you could possibly be, so no one could touch you."

"And o' course none of dat had anyt'ing to do wit' what's best fo' de guild?" I spat almos' involuntarily.

"Yo' right. And I won' apologize. You may be mon fils, but yo' not de only one. I never get simple choices Remy."

I took a deep breath dat stung going in and coming out. "None o' dis is important right now. I need to know what you know about Essex."

"Yes. Dat's what I'm trying to tell you."

I clenched down on de arms o' my chair, determined to get though dis wit'out being sidetracked. "Go on den."

"You started getting confused. He warned us dat training mutant abilities could come with side effects, some o' dem mental, but you always been de sharpest man I ever met. S' why I wanted you to lead de guild. One o' de reasons, anyway. De explosions had stopped. We were able to move you back home. You looked well. But sometimes you didn' know what day it was. Where you were. It was only a few days befo'…"

He paused to give me a knowing look. I knew what he meant. He knew I knew. He continued wit'out putting words to it.

"When Essex first started treating you, we always had a t'ief tail you. Make sho' you were safe, no funny business. Seemed legitimate enough, not'ing suspicious. Seemed you two were building a rapport. Once we were comfortable, we stopped. But den when you seemed so out o' sorts, I decided to go have a look fo' myself, find out what mo' I could about dis character."

He rose and started walking, eyes scanning through images o' de past, hands behind his back, gait agitated. He finally paused, fists clenching.

"Remy, I don' know exactly how, I don' know exactly what, but dey had you out cold and in some kinda machine, talking about 'too dangerous' and medical terms I couldn' make sense out of. I saw an image o' your brain on de screen, and dey were moving a cursor over it, like de hand o' God over de still waters. I had to look away and I'm not sho' what drew my attention, but I heard Essex in de next room over."

He checked my face, but I was only receiving information, not responding to it. He continued "I made my way to a better vantage point where I could hear. He was working on a computer wit' one o' his lackeys..."

I allowed Jean-Luc's words to carry me and create de scene in my mind. I remembered de old facility well. I remembered de rooms Jean-Luc was describing. I listened through Jean-Luc to de conversation.

Essex scowled, breaking with the compassionate and professional guise he tried so hard to uphold, "He tests my loyalty with this. Asking me to eliminate test subjects. Perfectly wretched waste. The Morlocks are useless to him, underpowered underdogs, lowest possible caste of mutations. Yet invaluable to me for my catalog. But I can't risk his loss of trust."

"What about the prime?" I knew who dey were talking about. Scalphunter never liked me. He did a poor job disguising de excited edge to his tone.

"Now there's the real question. His potential is fascinating. Energy itself! He would certainly be interested in developing him for the horseman effort…" Essex's tone was nearly romantic, as it always was when he was doing his awful craft.

Scalphunter scowled, irritated with the praise and maybe even a touch jealous as he tinkered with a non-descript device, "So why haven't you sent the data?"

Essex rubbed his chin, considering, "As they say, a rabbit will always have more than one way out of a hole."

"You really think that scrawny brat is going to give you leverage on THAT guy?"

Essex smiled at Scalphunter condescendingly. "Not today. But science rewards the patient. Unlike you, I can be incredibly patient. Our master needs time. So does the brat. We need to contain Gambit's power to reasonable levels and so avoid others taking notice. Which means I need you to finish your work promptly."

Scalphunter's jaw clenched in frustration, "You aren't worried that he'll find out?"

"Well, that's exactly why you're going to thoroughly delete all the records. And the witnesses of course. But let's speak somewhere more appropriate for such conversation."

They left the room and headed for the elevator at the end of the hall. Once the doors were safely closed, Jean-Luc headed in behind them, working to see what information he could get from Essex' abandoned computer.

Jean-Luc didn't give me de play by play, but what he got off de computer was a code file "APOCALYPSE" and a variety of IPsec tunnels dead-ending wit' a geolocation in…Antarctica.

"I t'ought it was a red herring, a sign dat deir protocols were too advanced. It didn' even cross my mind dat it would be legitimate. I didn' write it down and I don' remember exactly what it was…I'm sorry fo' dat now."

I could feel energy swell up inside me, fear and anger…

"You waited dis long to tell me?"

Jean-Luc sighed wit' resignation. "Everyt'ing happened quickly after dat. We had a plan to get you out, double cross-dem, and capture files to fill in some gaps. We didn' need much time, but we needed some. We didn' get it." He met my eyes again, somet'ing like sadness shadowing his eyes as he studied my demeanor. "De Morlock situation unfolded. Days after. Once we found you, you were so…"

"Go on." I beckoned dangerously. "I was so what?"

Jean-Luc's shoulders slumped. He tried to hold my gaze an' one hand lifted absently as though he was going to reach fo' me, but he dropped it as soon as he noticed. I wouldn' have allowed it and he knew dat.

"Broken. It broke you. Changed you." He sat back down in de chair and leaned back, head craning toward de ceiling as though he was looking towards a higher power. "And it broke me too. It was jus' like she said."

I raised an eyebrow. "She?"

Jean-Luc looked back at me, and fo' a second he let de t'ief fade away. His face was open, vulnerable, raw…tortured. "Yo' maman."

I jumped up out o' my chair, "You gon' use her even in death?! Try to bring her up to knock me off my game, cover yo' tracks after you tell me somet'ing like dis?"

Jean-Luc didn't rise to my bid. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned fo'ward, holding his head. "I can' control what you hear." He said it like it was a mantra. "You have a script fo' me and you won' let me deviate. You need me to stay a villain and maybe I deserve it. But I'm gon' say dis anyway, in de hopes you will hear it someday."

He stood abruptly and closed de gap between us wit' strong steps. "You got opinions. Me and Marianne: we always drove conversation, from de beginning to de end. You can t'ink what you want about me, but Marianne…she's my story. She belongs to me. And no one gets to tell me how, and when, and why to love her. Not den. Not now. And I do love her. S' never enough, but s'not not'ing."

I wanted to hit him. But Jean-Luc…he never talked about maman. Never.

My eyes narrowed. "All right den, you've tee'd it up, messed wit' my head. What's yo' ask?"

"Jus' STOP!" Jean-Luc turned around an' punched de wall, cracking de plaster. "Stop fo' one minute. Yo' welcome to hear whatever you wan' as long as you at least listen!"

"I'm trying, Jean-Luc, but dis is a tired song. Secrets, betrayals, lies, delusions-,"

"Se taire (shut up!)! My only focus after de Morlocks was putting you back togeddah, getting you back on yo' feet. And it turns out we'd had a mole dat had alerted Essex to our lost trust. I had not'ing but some idea dat you had somet'ing special, even fo' a mutant, and dat Sinister was doing mo' dan helping you get control. And a lost electronic trail dat ended in Antarctica. What was I supposed to say to you, hahn?"

"So why say it now?"

"Evidemment, you are headed to Antarctica. And yo' gonna run into Essex dere, and somebody dat made Essex scared. At least you can be expecting dat much. But once de Morlocks tracked us down and started de ransoms, I renewed de investigation. I wanted mo' fo' you, Remy. I don't know anyt'ing else about Essex, but I did find rumors about de "horsemen" project. S' not confirmed and s' not detailed."

I could see de frustration written on his face and ground my teeth togeddah to keep my composure. He went on. "Seems to be, dere's some interest in qualifying mutant manifestation. Some powers are fairly innocuous while uddahs are…mo' like yo's. Dis horseman project seems to be about finding de especially powerful. Some pockets o' mutants are willing, trying to compete like s' some kind o' title. But no one seems to know much." He started pacing back an' forth. "So mon garcon is certainly gon' run into Essex, likely someone worse, and probably uddah mutants as powerful as he himself is."

Did he forget I'm still standing here? "Dat's de angle? Yo' worried about me? Wan' some reassurance?"

"Yes. Dat's exactly it." His bluntness took me back a step. "You've loved me, hated me, and everyt'ing in between. You've sworn your loyalty and left me behind. I've always let you be what you wan' to be, but I have never stopped doing everyt'ing I can to help you. I can only be who I am, but I promised Marianne. I've let her down and I have to make it right."

"I am not yo' path to redemption, Jean-Luc."

"No, but I am gon' help you find yo's. If it kills me."

"How does de oath fit into all dis?"

He snorted, "Remy, you and I bot' know dat's jus' a device to carry us along. Don' be stupid. S' ironic, actually, cause it's exactly de T'ieves and our history dat might make de difference fo' you dis time."

Jean-Luc reached into his shirt and drew out a small vial. I raised an eyebrow. His eyes moved from me to de tiny glass container wit' an unreadable expression. "You got no idea how hard it was to come by dis." He held it up to the light, some kinda milky silver liquid inside, undulatin' ceaselessly even when held still. He studied it as I waited. "I originally got it…fo' Marianne. Mon Coeur." His gaze came back to me, serious and challenging.

"De T'ieves Guild is centuries, maybe even millenia old. We have our history, traditions, myths and legends. Dey all have a mix of truth an' deceit, luck and determination. One o' dose legends was about an elixir made by Candra herself, one wit' de power to stave off death - indefinitely."

I rolled my eyes. Dis was not a schoolboys' camping trip. But I was also frustrated – Jean-Luc had me totally wound up and lost. I had failed to keep up wit' de dance and now didn't know where we were headed. I was at his mercy. I hated dat, but he'd brought us here, fair and square.

He continued, "Je sais. You left faith and magic behind a long time ago. I been dere. Now yo' a man of science. But a century ago…even several decades ago…dey would have described yo' talents as magic. Mutant abilities are a scientific reality but somehow magic is tacky? S' de same t'ing undah un nomme de guerre."

I took a deep breath, steadied myself. Tried to let go o' de confusion and de anger. Tried to let go o' whatever expectations he was missing wit' every turn.

"Jean-Luc. Say what you need to say. S'il vous plait."

He nodded once, satisfied dat he finally had my attention and de upper hand. "Bon. When de doctors gave up on Marianne, I didn'. I was willing to fight heaven or hell, make any deal wit' any devil."

I tried to keep my tone cool. "Seems to me dat you were around less and less and finally not at all, as she grew worse. Seems to me de mo' she needed you de less she got."

He was unruffled. "I'm sho' it did seem dat way to you. I didn' wan' to give you boys hope. And den I wanted you have yo' anger to get you through de grief. But she was de only t'ing I t'ought of and I searched high and low. Doctors, mutants, charlatans, spiritualists. And den I finally got a lead from the T'ieves branch in Tokyo. Dey reminded me o' de legend of Candra's elixir, one dat could extend life indefinitely. Turns out de elixir itself is lost to time, but echoes o' it remain. Variations, not quite so powerful, but well beyond the limits o' medicine as we know it."

"And yo' trying to sell me dat dis bottle o' milk is one o' dose grand elixirs?"

"I know what I had to do to get it. I don' have time nor ability to tell you dat story now-,"

"Non? You been talking long enough, why go sparing wit' de details now?"

He smiled fondly, but his eyes were sad. "I'm not used to talking about her. I have to pace myself. It was her dat got me through it. I fought fo' her. So hard. I had…hope…" He stopped and clenched his jaw, but his eyes went glassy and he closed dem fo' a moment, regathering himself. I wasn' expecting him to answer my question, much less show feeling. I found myself unsure o' my next move.

"Good an' bad, Remy. Dey are drawn to one anuddah. S' inescapable. Bot' seeking to overcome de uddah, once and fo' all. Yo' maman was good. I wasn'. Neither o' us meant to fall. Bot' o' us tried not to. I t'ought….we bot' t'ought I had overcome, when we got married. She agreed to dis life, dis future. But she couldn' anticipate how she would feel once she became une maman. Regret. Despair. Desperation. But it was too late. Even if we'd tried to run, dey would have come fo' us. Our boys were from de bloodline. As proud as I was, watching mes fils grow into formidable t'ieves, so great was her grief. And den…you."

I stood, unable to keep still. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and wished he would stop talking.

"You weren't blood, not tainted. You were someone her good heart could love wit'out de pain. And she made me promise to take care o' you, to keep you safe, to make some place fo' you in de world dat wasn't dis. But when I heard, after everyt'ing, dat she had left me…"

His hand closed so tightly over the vial dat his knuckles turned white. His shoulders closed in an unmistakable gesture o' agony, so much so dat I took quick steps toward him, expecting him to fall. He placed his uddah hand on de back o' de chair, steadying himself.

"Remy I had it. I had de cure. I had fought hard fo' it. I had faith in her goodness, faith in my love fo' her. I won de fight and I was ready to come home and be de hero. But she couldn' wait fo' me. She left wit' no goodbye. I can' explain to you what dat did to me. I was…some uddah place. Fo' a long time. And it may not make sense and it may not be forgivable, but dat's when I decided to make you de next leader o' de T'ieves guild. I wanted to break my promise. I wanted revenge. On her."

"But den Essex and de Morlocks gave me a surprise victory. I got my revenge. Blood on your hands, dark on your soul…goodness gone. And it was all wrong. It broke de mask o' my anger. And wit'out dat…all I had left was love. Still love her. And de only way to express dat love was to make it right. Remy, I been trying. Ever since dat time I've been trying wit' broken heart, broken trust, broken relationships, broken family…but still trying."

Jean-Luc walked toward me meaningfully, resolute now in his posture. "I still have faith. I believe in you. I believe her love is still all over you, protecting you and guiding you. I believe you will get yo' goodness back. And maybe, jus' maybe, dis will help you along."

He put de vial roughly in my hand, as though glad to be rid o' it.

"What does dis do?"

He cocked his head to one side, considering. "Doesn' exactly come with a label. But it heals. Everyt'ing. And I believe it will heal whatever dey did to limit yo' power. If yo' gon face dis type o' enemy, you gon' need everyt'ing you got."

I held de vial at arms length. "Whatever dey did, it gave me control. What happens if dat gets undone?"

He stroked his chin, "I got faith in you. You got to have faith too."

I studied his face carefully and tried to see really him. When I was a pup, Jean-Luc was like a titan. He was strong, controlled, always a step ahead, always wit de answers, always wit' an angle. I was bot' proud o' him and intimidated by him. It was hard to see him here and now wit'out layers o' all de men he had once been clouding my view - de protector, de bully, de leader, de father, de businessman. His chiseled features were now lined wit' years o' wear. His dark hair was lightened by streaks o' silver and his broad shoulders had begun to narrow and bend, much as he tried to hide it. His clothes were looser dan dey used to be and his hands were splotched wit' signs o' age. But his eyes were still sharp, full o' intention, catching everyt'ing. I tried, fighting against de current, to entertain de idea dat perhaps he was being sincere.

I stepped closer to him and realized fo' de first time dat I was now taller dan he was. De closer I got, de more pronounced it became. In my mind's eye, Jean-Luc always towered. I forced him to meet my eyes.

"Why you telling me all dis now? Why not jus' give me de vial and say it would enhance my powers? You had choices here, aide moi à comprendre."

Jean-Luc sighed heavily. He kept his eyes firmly on my face and hesitantly raised a hand, placing it on my shoulder.

"As I said, I'm not a good man. Maybe not de worst, but not good. I don' expect dat to change dis side o' de veil. As such, I am selfish."

When I withstood his touch, he brought his uddah hand to my other shoulder wit' mo' confidence. "Watching you in recent years, when you came home befo', dese past few weeks…I felt like you might finally be able to undahstand. To see me. Being a leader means managing perceptions, keeping dem all blurry. S' a lonely way to live. Marianne, she was de last person dat saw me clearly. Since her, it's been one foot in front o' de uddah, one breath at a time, always alone. As I grow old, I grow tired."

Wit' some ferocity, he pulled me in and held me close, startling me. "S' too late fo' me. But I wan' you to have yo' goodness back. I wan' you to be happy. And I wan' us bot' to know I had some part in dat. Dat would be enough." He used one fist to lightly hit my back, accentuating his point, "Rewrite de ending. Go save yo' girl. Defeat yo' enemies. Live an' live hard. Don' end up a ghost like me."

I couldn' stop myself from grabbing hold o' him, fistfuls o' his shirt clenched in my grasp. "Papa…I don' know if I can."

"If anyone can, vaurien, s' you. You are a walking reversal o' destiny. A redeemer o' lost chances. You gave yo maman hope. You give me hope. You got to have hope too."

"What if I fail?"

"Den you come to me, because I know. I know how to live in failure. I know how dat feels. I won' be able to take it from you, but at least I can make it so you won' be alone."

"Papa…"

"Courage, Remy."

Early de next mornin', Logan and I were finally boarded. Wouldn't you know, dat elixir is less dan 3.4 ounces and made it past TSA? You can' get a block o' cheese past dose goons but an ancient vial full o' magic goes through de scanner wit'out question.

Now dat we were on de way to a fight, Logan could finally rest. He was pitiful company de entire trip, snoring in his seat, and de situation was made even more agitating as mos' airports no longer allowing smoking past security. He said he only needed two hours o' sleep, but now he said he was "tanking up" and "hates listening to my Cajun gab".

My mind replayed my conversation wit' Jean-Luc again and again, each time thawing my resentment o' him a little mo'. I also tried to go back to de danger room, de trainings, prepare myself mentally fo' de task ahead. But at last, my real objective broke through de surface. It was hours, hours until I could see her face. My mind tried to temper my enthusiasm, reminding me dat much was left unresolved, but knowing dat she missed me turned Jean-Luc's words into prophecy…I had hope. I listened to her voicemail every time I t'ought I could get away wit' it. If we could win dis, go back to New York…I could be a whole different person. Someone who could welcome her wit'out reservations or secrets. I could be her safe place, her home. I would find a way to make everyt'ing right, somehow.

O' course, we first had to get dem to agree to have us back. Scott was not a man to waiver once a decision was made, but maybe de reality of sub-arctic life would have softened even him. De Professor might be mo' sympathetic, but de chance o' him poking around our minds was a possibility neither o' us was kindly disposed to. If Hank had found some new technology, maybe he would advocate based on my skillset? Hank wasn't exactly a political figure…

Logan favored charging in wit'out apology and demanding inclusion. "What are they gonna do, turn us out into the tundra?"

"What if dey do? Dat's a hell o' a bluff to call."

"Jean wouldn't let it happen."

As irritated as I was wit' his unhelpfulness in planning, I clipped my response. Even I know better dan to cast aspersions at Jean in Logan's presence.

It turns out, it was a wasted worry. De weather was working fo' us, and we had jus' boarded a two-hour flight from de tip o' South America to Antarctica proper…if yo' curious, you can always find a chair in the boarding area fo' flights to Antarctica. In fact, you can have as many as you wan', lounge out. Not a prime destination fo' mos' vacation goers.

As we took off, suddenly anuddah man appeared in de row in front o' us. A familiar face.

Logan lurched forward and got caught by his forgotten belt.

"What's happened?!"

De Professor stood and walked to de aisle to face us. When in psychic form, de Professor can always walk, and it always throws me fo' a second. But I quickly regained my focus as I surveyed his condition. He looked absolutely haggard. Bot' o' us stopped breathing.

"We don't know yet." He looked around, bewildered. "Where are you?"

Logan unbuckled and jumped up, stalking over to de Professor and staring a challenge up into his face. Dis was obviously a projection, don' know what exactly he expected to do. My body felt like it was made of concrete.

"What the hell happened Chuck?!"

De Professor closed his eyes tightly, as though wishing to see somet'ing different when he opened dem.

"The initial team vanished on their expedition four days ago. There was no report of trouble, no findings. We had hoped it was a technology failure but…"

Logan snarled, but de Professor narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Logan. We knew what this mission was and we cannot afford time to manage tempers. If you are going to bring your particular brand of personal affectation to this highly stressful scenario I will simply incapacitate you. Contain yourself!"

De veins in Wolvie's head bulged so hard I t'ought dey would pop. But he swallowed hard, keeping his icy eyes on de Professor, and nodded once, curtly.

Satisfied, de Professor continued. "Alpha team was out on reconnaissance when we lost contact."

His teeth were ground togeddah but he tried to keep his tone controlled. "Search findings?"

"That's the problem. I was in contact, telepathically, with Rogue at the time of the disappearance. At the exact moment that the communications and geolocation technology failed, I was disconnected so forcefully I lost consciousness."

I stood up wit'out realizing it, unable to keep still. De Professor's compassionate gaze turned to me as he continued, "So we know it's more than technology, but we have no idea the scope of the danger. I am extremely hesitant to send another small team, knowing the capability of Alpha. Since I've come to, I've tried using my telepathy to locate them but to no avail. We then tried to use the event to force the hand of the UN in lending military aid, but they remain skeptical. I had hoped the Alpha team would re-establish contact, but that hope too, has proved false."

"Where's Jean?"

"She's here at the base. She's lending me her aid to extend my reach further than I would normally be able to without Cerebro. Which brings me back to my original question: where are you?"

"We'll be dere today. We're two hours from landing on de continent, den jus' need to get to de base. We'll be dere!" I tried and failed to make my voice less desperate.

De Professor exhaled in obvious relief. "Thank God. We are calling what reinforcements we can. Many are a day or two away."

"S' been four days! We can't wait anuddah day or two!" Frozen to death. Murdered. Psychically incapacitated. Dose were de easy options. But now I knew Sinister was behind dis, and if he had my girl…

"Gambit, I am going to challenge you to the same standard as Logan. We are all horrified. There is no time for that. We need X-men."

"I'll fix it by de time we get dere but right now you got to make some damn time."

Logan stepped between us, diverting de Professor's attention likely befo' he jettisoned me to de Astral Plane.

"What's the Alpha roster? Who are we missing?"

It looked physically painful for de Professor to give de names. "Cyclops, Storm, Psylocke, Beast, Mystique, Quicksilver, and Rogue."

Logan's eyebrows knit togeddah, running numbers, wondering de same t'ing I was – what on earth coulda incapacitated dat team like a light switch?

Even knowing he wasn' truly dere, I rushed up to de Professor, unable to talk fast enough. "Professor, s' Sinister. I don't know how and I don't know much else, but Sinister has got somet'ing to do wit' dis."

"Yes, we reached that same conclusion."

"HOW?"

"Our investigation had proved fruitless until we realized Rogue had absorbed some intelligence from Vertigo during their last encounter. We then realized Sinister's involvement was highly likely. She was able to assist us in navigating and we felt certain we were getting close."

"But Professor, is he's involved, if he has dem, we can' afford waiting days!"

He countered, "If he's involved, we certainly can't afford to be rash. As I see it, we have one final opportunity. We only need to get enough evidence to convince the UN to take over the investigation with their vastly superior resources. It grieves me utterly to admit that missing mutants are insufficient to catalyze their action, but this is the reality. We have a single shot: we must take careful aim."

"Chuck, the Cajun's right. We got a responsibility to mutant-kind, but we also got a responsibility to each other. Nobody's looking out for us but us. By my count, with me and Gumbo on deck you got a team of 10. How many more willing and able are you hoping to get? And who else has been trained fer this?"

"Logan-,"

"You got two teams of three, one team of four. That's enough to triage and hedge bets. You got reinforcements coming, but its diminishing returns. A small group is good, a military unit is good, anything between those two is rife with complications."

De Professor sighed and sat down, one hand rubbing his temple. Why was dis even a conversation?

Suddenly, a t'ought occurred to me. "You got Magento in yo' ear." De Professor's head snapped up in my direction, a look o' incredulity on his face. I continued evenly, "You don' want it to be us dat saves de day, you wan' to prove him wrong about de UN…about humans. Dis is about yo' dream. Homme, if de UN was going to help, dey would have done it after de robot attack. Yo' dream may need mo' time, but we don' have it. We got to be able to sleep at night, knowing we did everyt'ing we could."

"Gambit, is it really your impression-,"

"My impression is dat you are a man wit' too much on yo' shoulders and competing priorities, and s' easy to get turned around when you got so many people to move and manage. You wan' to be perfect, make perfect choices. Dere's no perfect choice, jus' good ones. You got to be honest wit' yoself here."

Logan looked at me and cocked one eyebrow, a rare show of approval.

De Professor looked angry, but he hesitated and put a hand to his chin, considering. We waited wit' baited breath. He kept t'inking. And t'inking.

Standing befo' him, I decided from here on out, I was all in. I dropped to one knee, surrendering. "You need me to beg? D'accord. I'm begging. Please. Please you got to let us go after dem."

Logan grabbed be by de back o' de jacket and pulled me back to my feet none too gently. "Yer breaking my heart, Romeo. Stop embarrassing yerself and give him a minute."

De side of de Professor's mouth twitched almos' imperceptibly, but den went back serious.

"Perhaps you're right." De Professor's eyes darkened. "Perhaps under my apprehension about safety, there's a hope that others will see fit to do the right thing so we don't have to. Perhaps I'm tired of shouting into a void and waiting for some kind of response. Perhaps I'm tired of being the only voice telling my children how much they are worth, and I wanted someone, anyone, to agree with me."

As though suddenly realizing dat he was still speaking aloud, De Professor brought his eyes back up to our faces and let his expression soften. "Perhaps I am the one letting my personal affectation cloud my judgment."

"Is that an endorsement?"

De Professor nodded and what was meant to be a sigh o' relief sounded mo' like a gasp when it passed my lips. Logan looked at me wit' some form o' disgust. "Get it together, Gumbo." He turned back to the Professor. "We'll be there soon. We'll be ready."

De Professor put a hand on each of our shoulders, though it weighed not'ing. "Thank you. I had expected a great deal of resistance. I…can't tell you, how it feels to know you were coming. In spite of everything. Thank you."

Logan shrugged out from undah his grasp. "Go spook someone else, you two are making this awkward." Smiling, de Professor vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.

I would like to say dat my behavior over de course o' de next two hours in flight is not representative of who I am as a person. Logan was not impressed. We'll leave it at dat.

Once we arrived, I was itching to get de show on de road, but dere was one mo' delay: stupid daylight. We didn't have enough time to reach de team's last known location befo' nightfall, and we were stuck spending de night at base as we waited fo' dawn's mercy.

Much to my dismay, it was Logan dat commanded a cloud o' femmes as we arrived. Jean and Jubilee met him wit' such enthusiasm he almos' blushed, but you could see his tension drop as he could lay hands on dem, see dem, reassure himself dat dey were safe. A day ago, I had been looking fo'ward to doing de same wit' ma chere, but she wasn' here. Her absence was crushing.

And when I tried to focus away from dat cold reality…so too was de absence o' Hank. And Scott. And 'Ro. And Bets. I tried to console myself wit' de knowledge dat wherever dey were, dey were togeddah. Maybe dat's how Rogue felt when Logan carjacked me back at de mansion. Wishful t'inking.

We were debriefed on de fateful expedition. Dat was actually de mos' helpful part, some kind o' information to go on. I was at de computer, reviewing de trajectory of de path dey took along wit' de dash cam footage, seeing if I could catch anyt'ing dey had missed, anyt'ing dat might have helped, when I felt eyes on my back. Turning around slowly, I saw Jubilee standing dere, looking uncertain.

After waiting a moment, I opened, "Bon nuit, petite."

She fidgeted with her jacket. "Hey there."

I waited again, den pressed, "Somet'ing on yo' mind?"

"Yeah but I don't want to start anything."

"Well…yo' here. I'm here. Might as well."

She twisted her fingers and looked at de floor. "I just want to apologize. Say sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "What you got to be sorry fo'?"

"I should have fought harder to be on the Alpha team. I should have trained harder. I should have been there. I was supposed to be looking out for her and I let you guys down."

I stood up and crossed over to her. "Jubilation Lee, you are not sitting here t'inking dat dis was yo' fault."

She sniffed but didn' answer.

"You shoulda been on Alpha team, hahn? How about me and Logan? We been cooling our heels and drinking beer while our people were in danger. How about I should have fought harder against being thrown out, Logan shouldn' have come wit' me-,"

"That wasn't your fault…exactly…" her voice lacked conviction.

I gave her a hard smile, "Wasn' it?"

"I mean…you should have been honest. But kicking you out was Scott's decision. You were willing to stay."

I shrugged, "So den we blame Scott."

She scowled and it looked so funny on dat baby face I had to try hard not to chuckle. "Scott's a good leader and that was a crap shoot."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "And he's de same person who decided not to put you on de Alpha team. He's de leader. We follow his call. S' not yo' fault."

She frowned and looked at the ground. "She told me to be brave. To be an X-man." She looked back up at me pointedly. "We gotta get her back. We gotta get all of 'em."

I squeezed her shoulder an' smiled. "Vraiment. We haven' lost yet."

She looked at me all the fiercer. "And I'm going to tell you the same thing I told her. When we get back, you two are taking a fricken vacation if I have to book it, tie you up and and put you someplace myself."

I took a step back but she matched me. "You heard me. Enough of your angsty drama and woebegone faces. You two are weaksauce when you're apart and I'm over it. And YOU-," she poked me in the chest, "Are gonna be honest from now on. At least with her. Capice?"

"Who even ARE you?"

"I'm Jubilation Lee and I'm at the end of my rope. I'm committing to Team Sparkler Claw and we are busting chops from here on out." She threw a light punch into my shoulder and stalked from de room.

Chere…ma chere…you been talking about me? I walked back and slumped down into the sorry excuse fo' an office chair. De hope was painful, not knowing whether she was ok. I wished I could be like de Professor, send my t'oughts out across de unfathomable distance and reach her. I tried futilely.

When we get back, chere, I'll take you anywhere. We can do anyt'ing. Just let me be wit' you. Love me, hate me, hold me or push me away. I don' need anyt'ing from you. I jus' need you. I need you to laugh, and yell, and smile, and fight. Whatever you do, jus' do it wit' me. Even if I can never touch yo' skin, let me be part o' you. Rogue, I miss you so much it burns.

Dere was no reply. I knew dere wouldn' be. I chuckled a little. What would people t'ink if dey knew? As a sat up, I felt a weight shift in my breast pocket. I reached in and pulled out de little vial I had transported all de way from de bayou. I studied it's strange swirling movement. I didn' really know what it would do, or not do. I hadn't wanted to risk it on de plane. But if it would give me any kind of advantage now…

Ok chere. You can' hear me. Den I'll tell you myself. So help me I'm gon' save you.

I popped de cap and downed it. It tasted bitter and thick, like a vinegar syrup, but it was tolerable. And anticlimactic. No immediate effect to note.

After a near eternity, dawn finally arrived. Since you've already seen de barren landscape and de miserable ride through the arctic cold, I won't restate it here. We were broken into three groups, as Logan suggested. We were going to slow within' a mile o' de team's last known location and cautiously survey fo' clues. Six snowmobiles carrying our parties along: Blob on his own, Colossus and Jean, Sabretooth and Bishop, Logan and Jubilee, Magneto and Bobby, and yo's truly flying solo with de gear. I had clued de Professor in dat Sinister may have a particular interest in me, and dat perhaps leaving me open might draw him out. It was a shot in de dark, but dat's where we were.

Jean and de Professor were linked up, scanning de area and giving him a front row seat to our progress. We were spread out wide, moving slowly but keeping visual contact. De not'ingness o' de continent was claustrophobic.

One minute, we were riding long, and den all de sudden Colossus and Jean vanished. De rest o' us skidded to a halt.

"JEAN. COME IN." Logan roared over de comm line. Dere was no response.

Claws came out and it was clear Logan was gon' charge in after her. I slid in front o' him, blocking his path. He took a swing at me, o' course, which I blocked wit' my staff.

"Outta my way, Cajun!"

"Tell de Professor first!"

He growled but we waited only a half a second befo' Xavier's voice rang out in our minds. "I've lost contact with Jean, what's happened?"

"They just vanished, aren't coming on comms, the whole vehicle and both of them just blinked out."

"Can you find where the tracks stop?"

Logan wasted no time. But again, it was like dey were dere one minute, and den de line just stopped. No skidding, sliding, or deviations. It was travelling 40 miles an hour in a straight line, den not'ing.

But as we came to de spot, we noticed somet'ing strange. The wind is ever whipping fresh snow around in de air, but here its pattern was strange, like it was colliding against an invisible barrier.

"Chuck?"

"You're right. There's something here. But what is it? What could block both physical and psychic intrusion?"

"Sinister had dat blocking machine before, maybe he's upgraded it?"

"That would be quite the upgrade, I don't feel any tension or strain. My powers don't perceive anything beyond what you see."

"I'm going in there!" Logan charged forward again, and dis time once he met de barrier, he vanished, jus' like de uddahs.

"WOLVERINE!" Jubilee launched herself but I managed to grab her jus' in time. "Let me GO!"

"Hang on petite, slow down."

"He's stupid and he NEEDS me!"

"C'est vrai, but let's take it slow here, n'est pas?"

De Brotherhood had collected demselves and oriented around deir leader. "So fortunate to have such highly trained professionals in the field. It would be a challenge navigating this scenario with a group of overemotional children." Magneto's tone dripped with disdain.

Jubilee turned her gaze to glare at him and opened her mout' to respond, but I squeezed her arm meaningfully. He was a jerk, but he wasn' wrong. We were all wound too tightly and we were reacting instead o' responding. We wanted to find an enemy, not a mystery. I heard her teeth click as she refrained from whatever retort she had planned. Once I was sho' she wasn' gon' try any theatrics, I turned her loose.

"We've isolated de exact location. Dat's somet'ing. Now we got to figure out what exactly is happening."

Bishop walked over and held out a hand. "Charge me."

"Happy to oblige, homme." I grasped his hand like a handshake and went to send some energy his way, as we'd done a hundred times befo'. But instead o' a steady stream, a roaring deluge cascaded through my fingers into him, so sudden it nearly knocked us bot' over. Bishop tried to recoil and it took effort to pull back and disjoin.

"EVERYBODY BACK UP!" He commanded as he released de energy toward de barrier, and de rest o' de folks had to shield deir eyes against de light and de force. Good news and bad news, whatever it was was strong enough to absorb de blow.

Once released, Bishop was panting as he turned back to me. I took a look at my hand and saw dat my entire arm was steaming in de cold.

"WHAT THE HELL, GAMBIT?!"

It took me a minute to find my words and my voice came out breathless. "Desole, Bishop…don' know quite what happened."

"You got to give me a heads up before you go nuclear, you backwater lunatic."

"Does de name calling help?"

Magneto floated towards de site o' impact. "If you two are at a stopping point, it appears we've made further progress."

The barrier was mo' apparent now, waivering, shimmering. It was hard to make sense of what exactly we were seeing. At regular intervals, a blue shimmer wafted across de surface. Beyond dat was a blurry mosaic of green and gold. We studied it a moment mo' but den saw very briefly pressed up against it…a handprint. De vision started to fade, almost like de surface was recovering itself.

Magneto took a commanding tone, "Blob, see if you can disrupt the barrier."

Cracking his knuckles but frowning deeply, Blob stepped up. He tentatively reached a hand out to touch de barrier where we had seen de handprint. De second he made contact, however, it started sucking him in so forcefully he hollered.

"HELP!"

Magneto used de force of his magnetism while de rest o' us used more traditional methods o' grabbing Blob and trying to pull him free, but it was no use. He was sucked straight through, noise and all.

Magneto studied de blank space where Blob had been jus' a moment ago, snow swirling into the unseen and bouncing away.

"We have a decision to make. Charles?"

De Professor's voice echoed as though he were standing right wit' us, though we couldn' see anyt'ing, "The others disappeared five days ago. We have had no contact. If you go through, there will be no way for us to support you."

"What options do we have?"

"I can take the additional evidence of the barrier technology back to the investigative team to see if they will approve the use of military aid."

Magneto raised his eyebrow, and his voice was cold. "And what are the chances that will be successful?"

A pause. "I don't know."

"Don't you?"

"Magneto, for all we know you are two steps from death. What will we accomplish by more losses?"

"Xavier, you do recall that my own son is one of those missing."

"I have not forgotten that, no."

"And yet you are suggesting we do nothing, return to base, and hope, for a third time, that the humans will help us? After all, what can they do that we can't ourselves?"

"Gambit has the equipment with him. Gather more information, there's no need to be rash."

"Rash?" Magneto's voice was dangerously low. "Rash? What exactly would it take for you to choose action, for once in your life? Or would you prefer an opportunity to try and talk this…whatever it is….to death? If anyone has a chance of being successful in that endeavor, it's you."

"Erik, I-,"

"I am not going to be scolded like a child. My people have come here, towed your line, followed your lead. But we are not X-men. We are the Brotherhood. Mystique, Pietro, and now Blob are beyond that barrier. As their leader, I am not going to hide back at base. You and your people do as you like."

The Professor tried to protest but only half-heartedly. He knew Magneto well enough to recognize a dead end. Magneto popped his signature helmet on an' waltzed regally up to de barrier, den beyond it, Sabretooth hulking along behind him. Dat jus' left me, Jubilee, Bobby and Bishop.

I smiled, already resolute. Dere was absolutely no way I was going home empty handed. Fo' all I knew, she was right on de uddah side o' what I couldn' see. I turned to de rest o' de team.

"I wouldn' judge anyone here fo' any choice dey wan' to make, and my apologies to de Professor, but Gambit's a gambling man. I can' resist long odds, mes amis."

"Always on brand. Shocker."

"I'm going too." Jubilee declared.

"Petite, you have not'ing to prove."

"I SAID I'M GOING." Jubilee sent a cover o' explosive lights our direction as she dove straight into de unknown befo' anyone had time to react.

"Merde!" Logan was gonna get me fo' dat one. I charged in after her, not waiting fo' further debate from Bobby and Bishop.

I found myself transported. I stumbled in, nearly knocking into Jubilee, but I had no time to t'ink much of anyt'ing because we immediately got rounded up. Rather than bring you into my confusion, let me use de power o' hindsight to say dat Jean and Colossus had triggered some kind o' perimeter alarm when de crashed through, and reinforcements had long since arrived, waiting and watching on de uddah side. We weren't able to see in, but dey could see out. Wit' our powers offline and us slow to realize it, it was a quick and humbling affair. Lord's mercy, we were able to watch Bishop and Bobby decide to collect data and return to base rather dan follow us.

Like de team befo' us, we were marched through de jungle, bewildered, to de edge o' de crater, and den collected by a Sentinel. So too, we were brought to de great pulsing spire in de center and de halls o' black and glass.

But dat's where our fates diverge. Once we arrived in de great room and de "master" revealed himself, he began his talk about "de choice", but once his eyes fell on me, his austere face twisted impossibly into a horrifying smile.

"At last."

I set my jaw, determined not to show any'ting, and kept his gaze.

"Without setting a single trap, I collect such amazing beings. I can sense already that he was wise to esteem you so highly."

"I don' know what you mean, homme."

"You've managed to overcome his hindrance, without my assistance, no less."

I could feel de eyes o' de team on me, trying to make sense o' what dey were hearing, same as me.

"You gon' keep wit' de riddles or tell us mo' about dis 'choice', hahn?"

En Sabah Nur studied me, like an exotic bug under a glass, curiosity and admiration. "Let them worry about the choice. I already have a place prepared for you."

He nodded to his lackeys, and they came to take me. De team rallied but as I mentioned befo', we weren't able to give our best.

"Don' waste it! Don' worry about ol' Gambit, I'll rendez-vous as soon as I can!"

De door closed between us, and I saw dem no mo'.

I was taken down twisting hallways, de building itself alien. It didn't make sense, de way it was put togeddah. Like it wasn' made fo' people.

De windows disappeared as we walked, which made me t'ink we were winding our way below ground. Finally, I was roughly deposited in a long room, filled with tables and glass containers, somet'ing like a lab, and chained to de wall, medieval-like.

I did try to free myself, but it shames me to say dat I was not having much success by de time En Sabah Nur came to call.

"Where are my people?" I demanded immediately.

"They are here. Where they belong. Our people."

"Speak plainly, I got no stomach fo' philosophy today."

But den, behind him, Nathaniel Essex, aka Mr. Sinister entered de room. His face was twisted into a bitter scowl. I held my breath and pulled at my bonds, unt'inking.

"No need for alarm. Dr. Essex works for me. He merely chooses to forget, sometimes. But his genius outweighs his less admirable qualities."

"Dat man is a murderer!"

"Geneticist," he corrected gently, as though speaking to a child.

I let out a hard laugh, "One o' dose, huh? Fix de brand by changing de name? Big intellectual arguments fo' basic thug level violence? I had hoped if I was gonna die it would at least be somet'ing interesting."

En Sabah Nur looked at me oddly, somet'ing like compassion on his face. Essex watched his face and his scowl deepened even further, shoulders hunched forward, like a dog wit' it's tail between it's legs.

"You have suffered. You have all suffered. So much."

I leaned away from him, confused by his demeanor.

"Mutants. Our kind. This isn't what was intended. You were meant to live kingly lives, to rule justly and know joy…peace." He continued moving slowly toward me, but not'ing I could do about it.

"Sounds bien and all, but history tell us kings don't usually keep company with any o' dose uddah t'ings you mentioned."

En Sabah Nur shook his head. "Human kings. There have only been human kings. Common ruffians. Untalented, unequipped…USURPERS." He slammed a fist on one o' de solid wood tables, shattering it. I took a deep breath and accepted: dis was gon' hurt. He paused, collecting himself, and den continued, "It's not entirely their fault. One can't ask dogs to govern and blame them for failure. It's not their purpose, their nature. So much needless suffering."

It was unsettling, how gracefully his hulking form moved as he strode through de room, lifting and inspecting a cylinder here, a notebook dere. I let my eyes dart surreptitiously back over to Essex to find him glaring at me.

"How did you do it?"

En Sabah Nur laughed a short booming laugh. "Pride. This one cannot overcome his pet sin. Perhaps he has earned it. Go on, answer him."

"HOW?!" Essex took a quick, threatening step toward me, but den halted jus' as suddenly, choking. En Sabah Nur walked toward him, raising him with forces unseen to be eye-to-eye.

"I've indulged you, Sinister. Do not be so daring as to offend my good graces."

Hard as it was, suspended in air, choking to death, Sinister bowed his head and placed a fist to his chest, as a show of loyalty. He was released and dropped to de floor, gasping.

En Sabah Nur watched his struggle blandly, his expression showing somet'ing o' disdain. "You have all been through so much. You struggle to trust, to believe. Some choose to test me. I allow their testing, if it will satisfy them. Tell me, Sinister, are you now satisfied?"

"What-," he choked out between gasps, "will you do with him? With me?"

I was grateful he had posed de question. En Sabah Nur's tone was dismissive in answering, "You, Sinister, will continue your work, chagrined and humbled that your best laid schemes are all plain to my mind. Having satisfied your little test, it is my hope you can redouble your focus and therefore improve your results. We have certainly had very promising cases come across our doorstep in recent days."

En Sabah Nur turned his attention back to me directly, and I didn' miss Essex grimacing at his back.

"You…Gambit…your fate is something far more special."

"Pass."

He smiled dat horrifying smile again. "Your distrust is unsurprising. Most require patience to build faith. But you…you will see with your waking eyes a vision of the world remade. You will build it with your own hands. It won't make sense, not now. But very soon."

Essex had mostly righted himself, though one hand rubbed at his throat. "You cannot possibly mean-,"

"I believe you know precisely what I mean. It's why you tried – and failed – to hide him from me to begin with. I let you proceed with your delusion, but I have been ever aware of a powerful mutant, rendered less by your paranoid meddling."

"Why go to all the trouble trying, testing, cataloging, comparing if you are simply basing your decision on whim?"

En Sabah Nur cut a warning glance over to Sinister, who took a step back, adding, "…master" to de end o' his little diatribe.

"Science can only take us so far. Its a crude tool, providing only so much information. Can you truly leave it all to science, how you knew – felt - his significance from the first? How he came so fortuitously across your path then, and now to me, unbound and unbidden? I felt it at once, the scope of his power when he used it at my border. Do not be so eager to resist the hand of destiny."

En Sabah Nur took more steps toward me, but his face now settled into somet'ing mo' solemn…mo' intentional. I leaned back into de wall. I needed him to talk.

"Destiny? You consider yo'self a man o' faith?"

Somet'ing o' a smile returned. "I consider myself a source of faith. Imagination, Gambit, cannot actually escape reality. You have all been dancing around me, with your religions, your legends, your myths." He continued toward me.

"My name is not as widely known as I'd like – how you come by it?"

En Sabah Nur scoffed, "I've known it almost as long as Sinister. Names are hardly valuable, ever changing. In fact, I intend to give you a new one."

"Why do I get de feeling I'm not gon' get much say in de matter? Aren't I supposed to get a choice? Free will?"

He nodded solemnly. "Certainly. But first, I am going to give you a gift. A gift I have been waiting to bestow for longer than you can imagine. Searching for the ideal candidate, waiting, ever patient, on the hand of fate."

"You may be all powerful but you got no future in sales."

"Silence you dolt," Essex threw my way but En Sabah Nur raised a hand to stop him and glared chillingly in his direction.

"He no longer belongs to you. It's what you wanted, what you planned, but you have failed. I will handle my own subjects."

"Sorry to go around breaking hearts, but I'm not yo' subject, homme, and I don' belong to either one o' you."

Apparently I said de wrong t'ing, cause En Sabah Nur crossed quickly and closed de last o' de gap. "It will all make sense. Soon."

Befo' I could react or respond, he grabbed me by de jaw, prying my mouth open so hard I t'ought he might have broken it, and dumped somet'ing viscous down my throat. I immediately gagged and choked, eyes brimming, and went slack against my chains.

In de midst o' de discomfort, I recognized an opportunity. I didn't know what kind o' poison dis was, but I intended to play dead. Maybe if I did dat dey would unbind me and I could get free to de uddahs. If I was gon' die dat was dat, but until den I could still try.

I lay there on de stones, my mouth full o' de taste o iron, and let de last o' de coughing spasms pass. I waited, listening.

Essex finally broke de silence. "How long?"

"That depends on how hard he resists. Hours perhaps. A day."

"Which horseman?"

En Sabah Nur ignored his question, den ordered wit' enthusiasm, "Unbind him. He will come to me when he is complete."

Essex made his way over and I braced myself to move fast as soon as I was free. But befo' he reached me…somet'ing went very wrong.