Reality splintered, squealing with the noise of a thousand speakers. Rogue - which was she? She knew she was herself, but which of herselves had she been thrown into now? - felt more than just a little unbalanced, she felt completely thrown off. Who - where was she?! Another shrill roar of feedback. That noise was so painful!
Rogue winced, and realized she was in an all black with black lace overlay dress that clung to her shoulders, creating a sweetheart neckline. Underneath it was a typical bodysuit, this one in all black, a shiny color to strike against the matte the dress and its lacework. She knew this outfit, knew it well.
It was the outfit she wore to funerals. Damn it all, she had attended far too many in her short life as it was! On review, though, perhaps she also remembered others' experiences as well. Her mind, ever since returning from Muir Island, felt murkier than ever. No…she could remember something else that was causing her confusion. This wasn't right…or maybe that was wrong, wasn't it?
'Where am Ah now?' she asked herself, finding it a startling question. She was wincing, like she heard something loud, but it was silent save for rain as all were coming across the lawn, assembling somberly. A few had their quiet sobs under control, but others were still crying openly. Even the sky, with its overcast clouds, was threatening tears of its own. There was a drum roll of thunder, faint and far away.
What a silly question, she knew where she was. It was the mansion, in the quiet corner of the estate where the team could respectfully bury their dead.
Oh…it tore her heart in two to bear witness to this particular funeral. Her dear friend Piotr looked like a man broken by the world, then cast aside. She hadn't seen him this stricken since the massacre in the tunnels. She went to move closer to him, but Kitty was there, and Rogue knew that the Russian wall with a heart loved Shadowcat much more than her. Surely Kitty would soothe his pain better than she ever could.
Memories surged, unbidden. They were doubled, from the minds of folks she absorbed who also experienced the same instances combining and clashing with hers into a mix that always made her feel a little lightheaded, and relieved she could fly. Thanks to that, it was less likely anyone would notice her unstable legs.
A flash of memory, of desperate defense for the few Morlocks they were able to save, then mixing, swirling with the chaos of Inferno and those demonic hordes. She recalled the desperate struggle to save so many small children from Limbo and its denizens. But the final gut punch was seeing the little Illyana cradled protectively in Rahne's arms. And then that gentle mercy was swiftly denied to the tiny body that lay hidden within the coffin, ravaged by this new mystery illness. Fresh tears sprang to Rogue's eyes; these people were just as much her family as Raven and 'Reenie were. Family wasn't always who was with you from birth; it was with you when it was worst. And right now, she needed to be here for them, her family.
The Rogue that existed outside of this reality was absorbed within this Rogue, but it still existed somewhat independently. The Rogue of this reality was similar to her, and it was comforting but at the same time it also unsettled her. The lines blurred and she felt less as if she were experiencing a dissociative event, and more like she was in this reality. Shock faded, acceptance reigned.
"Rogue?" Logan muttered next to her, his voice pitched for her ears and few else. They were standing off to one side, a typical action of Rogue's and Logan saw her alone, going to stand next to her. "Y'alright there?"
"Yeah," she responded even more quietly than he. His sensitive ears would pick it up easily. "This shouldn't've been this way."
He nodded somberly. "Tell me about it. Wasn't right 'bout nonathis. And Piotr…" Logan's face changed, he and the Russian had a deep, close bond only superseded by the one he shared with Rogue's brother Kurt. "Piotr should've been here."
That surprised Rogue; she hadn't expected that from the stalwart, dedicated X-Man. He believed, and fought for the dream longer and harder than most who were assembled here today. A true believer of the dream, this was one of the first times she had heard Logan criticize the Professor since…well…since before the Mutant Massacre in the tunnels. Since before the Trial of Magneto in Paris.
She was about to say something when Professor Charles Xavier cleared his throat and began speaking.
"My friends, my children, my X-Men," Charles began. "It is my solemn duty today to call you all here; to bear witness to this day, where we lay our dearly beloved friend, ally, and X-Man, Illyana Nikolaievna Rasputina to her final rest." He paused to gather his bearings, punctuated by a few sobs within the crowd.
Rogue looked over the group, still off to one side with Logan. Remy seemed to move restlessly off to the other side of the group. He had come late to the funeral, and it would have caused far too much commotion for him to pass the entire group just to walk over to her. Secretly, she was relieved. Now was not the time for flirtation.
The Professor continued. "Illyana's spirit was bright, fierce, and free. She lived her life on her own terms, and would hardly compromise her opinions just for the sake of making others happy." There were a few teary mirthful mutters from the crowd. Yes, they all had experienced one of Illyana's opinions in the past, in one way or another. The Professor gave them all a moment to take some time and reflect on those thoughts before continuing.
He spoke and a peaceful wave of sorrowful solemnity radiated from Xavier, linked with the other telepaths in the crowd to carry the weight of the activity. It had become a sad part of any funeral now, a linking of all the minds there. A chance for all to psychically lean on one another if they wished to at this moment.
Rogue had peaceably declined this time, knowing how difficult it was for them to access her mind; and she wasn't inclined to make it any further difficult for all here to have to deal with her…well…her. She stood as the rest of the group huddled a bit tighter, those seeking that psychic solace also finding one another in the physical realm. Xavier, a bit more attuned to reality due to long hours of skillfully wielding his abilities, continued his eulogy.
The rain continued in its steady downpour, and as a rumbling of thunder began, Rogue noticed a startled look on her friend Ororo's face. It was her first clue as the Professor stopped mid-sentence to ask Piotr a very surprised, "My son? Are you well?"
"How could I be, Charles?" the tall Russian snarled, his face contorted in the first emotion he had shown in the last few days. He turned and looked towards the man of the dream, and the mentor to all assembled. He was the leader, the father figure to some - nearly all - and now, one of his most faithful looked at him with a face of alien, naked anger.
"My sister, my little snowfl-" he broke off in a choke of half-held rage. In a flash of brilliant light crackling along his body in a scintillating wave, and shining immediately in the chill rain, Colossus had armored himself.
"Whoa, steady there-" Scott said, first of the nonpsychic to return back to reality from the merging of minds.
"Pete, what're you doing?" Logan interjected, his usually gruff voice reserved a bit. He always held back for the young Russian man. One of his most staunch friends, they and Nightcrawler. To see the older man hold back as some of those he considered his closest began to succumb to their emotions.
"My son, I know you're upset-"
"You will not call me that!" The Russian bellowed. Sam Guthrie came over to try and make peace with the angered man. Jubilee, who had barely been able to hold it together since she stepped outside, was now sobbing. Kitty Pryde threw a disgusted look at Piotr before tending to Jubilee, her will to help greater than her instinct to lash out.
At the same time, Jean was more interested in what Storm was noticing. "What is it, my sister?" she asked quietly. Rogue was watching all of this unfold, a sickened feeling in her stomach because somehow, some way, she knew what was to happen next. And she truly didn't want it to.
She knew.
"The air…it moves oddly. This is not-" Storm's head snapped to the east. "Something comes, Jean."
"Everyone, Storm says prepare!" Jean declared and despite wearing funeral black, each of them snapped to swift readiness. All save those keeping Colossus from the Professor. Charles himself, who refused to use his powers, instead tried to use his words. For now, Colossus was not willing to walk through Kurt, Logan, and Sam, but for how long that would remain, Rogue wondered. Something inside of her felt that it wasn't going to last much longer.
It wasn't going to matter for much longer though, as lightning crackled in latticework that hadn't existed on this magnitude since the Hadrian Era. That wild thought came to her, and she figured it must've been Dr. Peter Corbeau, Hank Pym, or even her own Hank McCoy. They all had a secret love for the first era of earth. It was all rather fascinating to her, actually. She had made a point to remember it, but -
No, focus! Rogue blinked and shook her head as she watched what would happen next. The strangest thing was that even as she witnessed this, she had such a feeling of premonition, and she had no idea why or how she did. She wasn't channeling her mother Irene's powers; she knew how those felt. No, it instead felt more like Rogue was experiencing something that had happened long ago in her past - except this was now!
Sure, there was deja vu, but this? Something about this was so beat for beat what she knew, it felt like she could be on autopilot, because she - unknown, unobserved by any - mouthed Jean'next words. "I sense…I sense Magneto coming!" the Professor gasped as the storm-laced clouds parted in the massive displacement that Asteroid M was.
All assembled gawked, even Rogue, who knew what would happen. After all, who wouldn't? A true sight to behold; it wasn't every day an enormous satellite drifted into your backyard, after all.
Magneto, magnificent, triumphant, unbent, floated before the asteroid, and he beheld the assembled. His gaze found Rogue's, and there was an odd moment for both of them; a pulse of recognition, of memory - of strange instruments of beaten bronze, of holding hands while walking up a hill. A bedroom - no, a birthing room - no, that was their room. Laser. Screams. So many screams.
But those blue eyes remained locked on hers for a long moment and all of that faded as she felt a comforted reassurance in them. Something about them was familiar, and in them, they seemed to ask her to trust. To trust him. She…she could do that. She had faith in him, she had to.
Because if she didn't, then something very very bad would happen here today if she didn't.
"Illyana Nikolaievna Rasputina," Magneto said, his voice carrying across the open field in clear, strident tones. "My student, my ward. In the short time I knew her, I managed to fail her, three times, and my soul is black and damned for it."
"I cannot atone for it; I cannot return to her what I wish to. I wish to bring her back. I wish to save her. I wish to stop this."
"I am too weak to do it alone, Illyana." he confessed to her, confessed to her grave, to all there. "I am too weak to see more die for a cause…" he took a steadying breath, and said what Rogue knew he would need to say. "To see more like you die for a man who is only at his best when burying them."
The condemnation rang out in the air. Someone, one of the New Mutants Rogue thought absently, gasped in shock by the temerity and bold accusation of the words. The rain continued unabated, the thunder crashing in a loud wave, drowning out the next words. Ororo let it, once it ended the rumbling too ceased, though the clouds flickered with the occasional hint of lightning looking to let loose. Was it him, or Storm? Who was holding who back?
Those thoughts whirled through Rogue's mind as Magneto continued to speak. "I am not leaving here today without you." A pang shot through her as he said it. Though he didn't look at her as he said it, she knew a part of that message was just for her. It was in the tone he used. A tone she had never heard in this world, but a part of her knew, from other times.
This was madness. Or it would be madness if she wasn't one of the X-Men with the most experience dealing with an altered state of reality. She was accustomed to dissociative thoughts, and feelings like this. She let it ride out, and as usual, no one noticed. Or perhaps they didn't have time to. It was typical, though; there was never enough time for all their problems. There was only enough time to deal with the largest one at hand.
"I will leave here today with you, Illyana, though your body is here in this cold earth thanks to this cold man and his cold dream. But you, your spirit, you will come with me. I am not leaving here without offering you all the same. I want you, all of you, to come with me." His eyes swept across the crowd and caught hers once again as he continued to speak. "Away from this dying world and this dying dream. Away from the pain of disease and derision. I will not let my people be herded to their graves; no. Never again."
Rogue felt something calling to her, something of like meeting like, and again a whirling of reality. So much compressed and expanded she hovered in place to keep her footing. But even as she did, she made that gut instinct move that made her such a wild card on the battlefield. She trusted her senses, whether they were still augmented from Ms. Marvel or not. She had followed her senses - her heart - all her life, truth be told. And even if it was enhanced by Carol's abilities, she knew this for a truthful sentiment within her. She needed to get closer to Magneto.
"Rogue?!" Gambit spluttered as she took to the sky. Her half-palm gloves fell away to the ground, forgotten. Within seconds, she was thirty feet in the air, and eye level with Magneto.
Those assembled beneath were expressing their shock, but as other fliers took to the air, Professor Xavier found his voice as he, Storm, and Cyclops all said in one voice. "Wait!" The fliers held, still below the pair, between the ground and the rock that Magneto held in the sky over their very heads. It felt like the entire world was waiting to take its breath.
Suddenly self conscious, Rogue steeled her courage. No one here, or anywhere, would make her feel like she wasn't enough. Something about that thought seemed to resonate with every her she felt within. It gave her confidence to continue.
"Beautiful speech, Magnus…" she said, encouraged as he didn't try to interrupt or correct her. She knew, as all of the hers within her knew, how much she loved that he let her say her piece. That he never rushed her to get to the point. That he listened. "Ah know you meant every word. Ah know how much this hurts. You don't wanna fight right now, right?"
Rain dripped from his hair, slid from his forehead, and past his brow. It made it difficult to tell if he wept or not. She had a feeling he thought the same for her.
"I want…" he said and paused, his voice softening. "I want you to trust me. I want you all to trust me."
Thunder crashed loudly in the distance, an echoing boom that failed to drown out Charles' outraged "No!"
Rogue ignored her mentor, her first and only father figure of any merit, for the first time (in a very long one? All this reality hopping was worse than a usual imprint). But it wasn't out of disrespect. It was what needed to be done. She knew it, and knew it in her soul this was the right thing to do. The world trembled mightily, but the two in the air didn't feel it as their hands clasped together. She knew what she needed to do. This felt right.
They took one another's hands, and the world flashed white.