TOTAL X-MEN: Summer's Gaze

by Morris777

In the late 1980's, a young Scott Summers escapes the lab of Natalie Essex and finds himself thrust into a conspiracy involving the Island of Genosha, encountering an array of deadly enemies and powerful allies. For Scott and his strange new friends (and blossoming love with Ororo), the only way to survive everything and everyone up against them...is to go TOTAL X-MEN on them!

13. The Tomb of Carter Slade

Author's note: ALL ART COMMISSION OFFERS FOR THIS STORY WILL BE AUTOMATICALLY DECLINED

...

Scott and Storm had found one of Hank's old chopper bikes in a special garage that was clearly part of a collection, with Motorcycles from decades past, including steam powered ones.

"Would you look at that..." Storm said, going to a cycle with a strange twin cylinder engine attached to the frame, a combination of brass, iron, and leather.

"A Roper Velocipede..." Storm said, fascinated. "I've only seen these in books..."

"You know your vehicles..." Scott noted in stoic fashion, hiding even from himself how his heart had fluttered just a little.

"I had to. My father was an engineer in the Army before he became a photographer. Worked on the courier's motorcycles in 'Nam..." she explained, her raven black, very short but drooping hair shining in the garage light. Scott focused on the way the light glinted off the strands of her hair before he caught himself, killed the thoughts he was starting to have.

She didn't make it easy, and he suppressed a gulp at her faint smile that formed.

"After the war, he settled down in Kenya with my mother. That was when we first ran into Essex...but for a brief time, even with the glowing red eyes...we were happy..." she confessed, smile fading rapidly into that hard almost-death-glare she always seemed to perpetually have on her as she stared into empty space a moment not focused on the bike.

Scott looked up as he heard the powerful crack of thunder overhead. He knew it was no accident that sound had occurred the moment her angered stare returned.

"My father was a combat pilot..." he trailed, observing a mint condition army motorcycle. "Flew an F-4 Phantom 2 during the war. After it, he settled down with my mother and my brothers."

"You have brothers?" Storm asked, interest perked.

"I had brothers," he corrected.

"What were their names?" she asked.

"I don't like to say their names," Scott replied, heart rate rising surprisingly quickly, a drop of sweat sliding down his forehead in front of her. She didn't comment on that, and neither did he.

He idly traveled between the rows of motorcycles.

"I don't like to say any of their names..." he muttered almost under his breath.

He went to examine the bike Hank had given him the keys for.

It was a sleek, black steed of mechanical conveyance, which even incorporated Horse Imagery, with a stylized Horse Head mounted on the front wheel housing, with the front forks stylized to resemble the front legs of a horse, with the back suspension housing designed to resemble hind legs on both sides of the rear wheel.

"What a bike..." he noted almost dispassionately. Storm noticed he had a sterile, clinical disposition at seemingly all times. "Champion Series 1SR, Stark Motor Company. One Hundred Fifty Horsepower Solar Power Plant Engine. Enough Energy to run three days straight before needing a twenty-minute recharge. Only thirty ever made due to how expensive the engine was to produce...Nineteen-Seventy. Mint."

"He's letting you use a priceless mint condition bike?" Storm said, incredulous. "Generous. A little too generous."

"The good doctor simply understands there is no point to owning a Motorcycle if you don't ride it. Or can't ride it, in his case. A Stable of Horses that never run is a sad thing indeed..." Scott trailed, hand delicately gliding over its mirror sheen obsidian surface.

Scott managed to fasten the backup Captain America Shield to the front of the bike using the shield straps and magnetic clasps.

Storm reached into her black jacket and pulled out a pair of pitch-black aviator sunglasses that hid her glowing red eyes. Scott immediately made note of how well they worked at doing that.

"Those glasses..." Scott trailed. "Did Essex make them? Like she made my visor?"

Storm nodded. "My mutation was extremely difficult to hide without pretending to be blind...my father AND Mother had to keep making excuses, saying it was a rare condition, or that I was on medicine for another condition that caused the glowing eyes as a side effect. When Essex came along, it seemed like I could at least go around pretending to have a medical condition that forced me to wear the glasses. All she wanted in return were...samples..."

Scott didn't ask further.

"She did the same to me," Scott confessed without elaborating further as he got on the motorcycle.

He got on the bike, turned it on, reversed it out of its parking space, noting its size.

"Beast has taste..." he commented as Storm got on the bike behind him after grabbing a pair of helmets, wrapping her arms around his waist after they put them on.

"Where to?" she asked.

"I've never been to a park..." he said, riding down out of the garage and down the pathway to Hank's home, where the automated iron gates swung open and let them out.

"We just gonna ride around until we find one?" Storm asked.

"Precisely."

The roads weren't crowded. He saw a lot of people in cowboy hats for certain.

This was a new experience for Scott as a teenager. It was the first time he'd ever gone to a park. The first time he'd ever used a motorcycle without Essex monitoring his travel.

The first time a girl was riding on a Motorcycle with him. The wind hitting exposed skin was almost hypnotizing. Feeling her holding onto him gave him butterflies in his stomach.

This place was very different. Not the concrete jungles of New York, but the silent sentinels of mountains and hills and desert sky, and civilization dotting all that. The sun was bright and almost directly overhead.

It wasn't long before he found a park, a large one, with lots of people. He'd never been in such large crowds. At least, none that he could fully remember. He saw kites being flown. Balloons in the sky.

Scott saw a parking area and parked the bike and ceased its satisfying rumble, removing his helmet right as Storm did.

Scott said nothing as he dismounted the bike and walked across the grass into the park proper, which had large trees interspersed throughout it. He found a bench and simply sat down, Storm joining him as they watched the others in the park.

He simply stared, the world filtered red, reflected on crimson lenses, the way they did Storm's black tinged aviators.

"You seem spooked, Summers..." Storm mentioned idly, staring at people flying kites.

"This whole thing got nasty, and complicated quick," he said in a very quiet voice. "It wasn't lookin' good from the start, but it's so much worse now..."

"What do you mean?" Storm asked, frowning.

"Loki sent me thirty thousand years into the future...where I witnessed her die at the hands of some rival of hers called Hela," Scott admitted.

Storm's mouth fell open slightly.

"Time Travel? She can DO that?" Storm questioned.

"Yeah. I..,learned things..."

"Like what?"

"Like I am somehow the reason Charles Xavier was born a human, and not a Mutant. And that Ebony Chalice that she gave you? That's what Hela turned her freaking corpse into, and I brought it back to the younger version of Loki four hours before she first teleports us all to Asgard."

Storm was now staring at him with full eyebrows raised.

"What the Hell is Loki's end game?" Storm questioned, an edge of nervousness in her voice.

"I don't know. She's trying to stack the deck more than she admits though..." Scott replied. "If I got transported through time and space without warning, there's a distinct chance she is going to do it to everyone she gave an item to..."

"So, I might be next..." she trailed, leaning back in the park bench.

"Well, this is a fine mess..." she admitted...running a hand through black hair. "And then she just transported you back?"

"Yeah..." he said.

"Are you going to tell the Professor."

"Hell no. He's close to overwhelmed as it is. This is strictly between you and me..."

"Why trust me?"

"Because you hate Essex as much as I do," Scott answered stoically. "Maybe for different reasons, but you have skin in the game."

"That's one way of putting it..." she trailed, spying a hot dog cart.

"Hungry? I got cash," she offered.

"Don't know when I'd be able to pay you back," Scott replied.

"Don't worry about it..." Storm said in response. "C'mon..."

The pair approached the cart, waited in line. Scott got a simple dog on a bun with mustard. Storm, one with ketchup, they strolled the park, eating slowly.

"You never been to a park?" Storm asked as they strolled through it.

"I figure I should go at least once, in case I die trying to get Essex..." he mused, watching a bunch of balloons float in the sky.

"But if you live...can you really leave all this behind?" Storm wondered. "Just out of fear of hurting someone by accident?"

"Do you see an alternative?" he asked.

"You don't think I worry about my powers going haywire? But I can't wave the idea of living amongst people away just like that," Storm criticized.

"Each person must be willing to accept what they deem is a reasonable level of risk," he replied, taking a bite of his dog, watching children play with kites. Being forced to see everything in a haze of red was starting to become maddening.

"But don't you want...like...a life?" she questioned.

"Sure...as soon as I figure out what having one is..." he answered. "Maybe..."

"It's just...your plan leaves your real lonely..."

Scott was silent for a moment, watching a family take a photo of their children.

"People like us are barred from normal..." he said grimly, turning away from the sight. "Any children I have would likely get the death rays in their eyes too. It would be cruel to subject a spouse to that kind of danger, and crueler still to knowingly condemn a child to the possibility of a life as a living weapon..."

"That's not true of every Mutant..." she pointed out.

"Perhaps not. But it's true of you and me..." he replied stoically. "Could you bare a son or daughter of yours going through life with red eyes? What if the child accidentally electrocutes someone to a lethal level if they inherit your ability? Could you truly say the presence of a Mutation changed the child's life for the better?"

"What if they accidentally electrocute someone by dropping a hair dryer in water, or incorrectly wiring something? Would you say the presence of electrical products changed the child's life for the better?" she asked.

Scott mused her counterargument.

"Hmmm..." he mumbled.

"There's a difference between improper use of machinery that proves fatal and being what generates the power," he said a moment later.

"But the notion of responsibility is the same in both cases," she answered, finishing her hot dog.

"And the scale to which one must be responsible arguably isn't that different," she continued. "It only takes a moment's carelessness in both scenarios."

"But in only one is there a near constant source of danger," he countered.

"Where humans walk, there is always a source of danger...the humans themselves. They've never needed Mutant Powers to be dangerous. Their will to wickedness more than makes up for it. They've scorched the earth, murdered men, women, and children for thousands of years. All without a single optic blast..." she pointed out. "You can kill a hundred people with a large rock if you are patient enough. Or if you have an assault rifle and enough magazines..."

Scott was seriously considering what she said. But he seemed slow to give up on his notions as he watched children play tag.

"Power is not for the faint of heart. Or the weak of mind. Or the greedy," he replied quietly.

"Then it's a damn good thing I don't think you are any of those," she replied with a small smirk. "Don't go changing..."

"Heh," he chuckled dryly, finishing his hot dog. "You wanna get outta here?"

"Nah. I been in Egypt too long. Thought I'd never get outta that desert," she replied. "I can handle a few more minutes. You?"

"Sure."

As they strolled the park some more Storm spotted an outdoor concession stand selling magazines and headed over to it when she saw candy.

"I haven't had American Candy in months!" Storm exclaimed, immediately going over and paying the owner for a chocolate bar.

"I take it Egyptian Confectionery wasn't hitting the spot?" Scott asked.

"Not a chance," she replied, taking a bite of her candy. "Gimme a Snacky-Stark Bar with extra caramel and peanuts any day of the week...want one?" she offered.

"Never had much of a sweet tooth," he declined, before he noticed the stand had a set of pamphlets that featured the Island of Genosha on the cover...

"Excuse me..." he asked the elderly man running the stand. "How much for those pamphlets?"

"They're free," the old man replied. "You're welcome to take one..."

"Thanks," he replied, opening it up.

"What's that?"

"It's a travel guide to Genosha," he answered.

"Where our Absolute Point is supposed to occur..." she trailed, as they both walked away from the stand. "What's it say?"

"Run by The United Kingdom. Prime Minister is a Doctor David Moreau. An Install by the U.K. ..." Scott trailed, opening up to a map of the Island's major landmarks as he filtered through the propaganda in the pamphlet to convey a precise answer.

"Right next to the African Continent, about eighty miles from the coast of Wakanda..." he added, flipping through it. "Settled in the late seventeen hundreds by the British."

"Eighty miles from the Wakandan Mainland..." Storm noted, before slapping her forehead.

"Right! The Wakandan Nuclear Reveal...I remember my Mother tuning into the news every night wondering if T'Chaka was gonna start World War Three..." Storm said in surprise, even as she privately admonished herself. She was so bent on catching Essex, she was starting to forget history...

"The Kingdom's colonization of the island eventually resulted in an extremely serious standoff between Wakanda's King T'Chaka and U.K. Prime Minister Brian Braddock...Braddock pulled a fast one and stationed an LMD Factory there." she continued as they started heading back to the motorcycle. "Ostensibly it was to use the LMD's as target practice in military exercises on the island. T'Chaka accused the U.K. of prepping Wakanda for invasion by robotic soldiers to seize Wakanda's Diamond and Uranium Deposits by force. He was forced to reveal Wakanda's Nuclear Capability to the world as a deterrence."

"U.S. Media never talked about it much..." Scott noted.

"For good reason. The world came even closer to ending there than it did in Cuba," Storm replied. "And frankly, the world needed one less thing to keep its people up at night."

"The Pamphlet says that Genosha has long been prized for its rare plants and exotic animals that are nearly extinct everywhere else, along with having some of the finest medical institutions on Earth. It also says that the accusation of the United Kingdom using the island as an illegal testing ground for medical experimentation on undocumented Super Humans is baseless slander," he answered, flipping through it very carefully with the focus of a Hawk that had spotted a mouse.

"And that name, Moreau..." Storm trailed...

"What is it?" Scott wondered as they reached the bike.

"I heard that name come up when I was held captive by Clan Akkaba. He's a geneticist...their cultists were talking about him. Like he was some sort of threat," Storm answered, frowning, hands going to her hips.

"A Nobel Prize-winning Geneticist as the Pamphlet mentions. He not only runs the island, but he's also the founding head of its most powerful corporation, GENEGINEER INC, with co-founders Stephen Lang and Doctor Bolivar Trask," Scott replied dispassionately, with no conception of the utter hell he would be walking into because of the men those names were attached to...

"Stunning resorts and vistas, thriving tourism, the usual nonsense..." he muttered, putting on the helmet. "It's more than we had to go on before."

The Pair got on the Motorcycle and they were soon on the road back to Hank's home.

As they rode, Storm made a suggestion.

"I know some people in Wakanda...made some friends there hunting for Essex...if we wanted a way to slip into Genosha undetected...we could head into Wakanda first. Get in by being smuggled."

"We have a stealth jet AND a teleporter in our little in-group. Why would we want to get smuggled into Genosha?" Scott asked, starting to hear the sound of a helicopter from far off.

"There's always a reason to get smuggled into a country..." Storm replied. "We don't want to abuse the stealth jet. It's our only stealth jet. If it gets captured, we lose a major advantage. We should use it strictly for ingress and egress only, not operating out of in enemy territory for long periods. Besides, that thing anywhere else besides a custom hangar is just asking for someone to find it...and it's bad enough Clan Akkaba knows we have this jet...I also get the distinct feeling Mystique's teleporting isn't an exact science. Even she had to ask for coordinates. That could be difficult to do under fire..."

"Hmmm..." Scott noted as he rode. "Point taken..."

Storm brought up VERY good points. Scott immediately decided her advice was high quality.

There was a green flash, and Scott barely evaded the stone Spike that shot up rapidly out of the Asphalt on the road.

"Brace yourself!" Scott yelled as they both tumbled from the bike, on a road of fast-moving cars. The Bike skidded across it and in spite of the danger, Scott couldn't help but wince and be furious at himself for damaging Hank's bike.

Scott's instinct was to reach for Storm, grabbing her and rolling them both out of the way of a speeding tanker truck, scrambling up and just barely evading a car that swerved out of the way, rolling on the road. He was still trying to find the source, when he sensed the movement of the atoms around them as a violent wave of energy moved around the atoms, speeding towards them both.

He tackled Storm to the ground, even as car after car swerved violently to avoid hitting them, some catching fire as they made a pile up. Others were hit by the green beam of energy lancing out from a far-off Helicopter.

"Those people, we have to get them out of those wrecks, whatever it takes!" Scott yelled to Storm in the chaos as he yanked his helmet off. "Go for them! I'll cover you! Keep low!"

Storm nodded, crawling through the ground, making sure to stick close to cars that had been abandoned by their owners in the chaos. It had been a bad pile up. She tore her helmet off, removed her aviators as she headed to the rolled over cars with people still trapped inside.

Scott, meanwhile, kept low behind an abandoned overturned car, looking for the shooter. He saw a green glow from out the side of a Helicopter, and a beam lanced out of it. He ducked as it turned an abandoned truck to stone behind him

This felt horribly familiar to him, but he could not remember why...

He rose and returned fire, tapping the controls on the side of his sunglasses-like combat visor, and a crimson gob of energy shot out of his glasses right eye lens. He could have ended it in an instant by taking the glasses off and firing his beams full strength but in destroying the helicopter he risked everyone below and right now it was above traffic. He had to keep drawing fire, keep it from focusing on Storm...and pray Storm had the sense not to down it...

The beam lanced out at his cover, and he scrambled away as it got turned to stone, running quickly to another car. Storm in the meantime was frantically trying to pull people out of burning cars, prioritizing evacuating children first before adults, warning them to stay down. A lot of them had heavy bruises and some burns, but a few were outright unconscious, and Storm had no experience at first aid beyond herself. She was starting to panic. It was Kenya all over again.

Scott was forced to stay low as the green beam kept firing in his direction as he moved from cover to cover, returning fire with weak gobs of energy,

He spotted the backup Captain America shield, its crimson edge gleaming, guarding a blue interior with a white star at the center. He dived for it, grabbing it and getting it in front of him just in time as a green beam smacked into the shield making him skid across the ground. The Shield remained unchanged by the beam.

He returned fire more rapidly, aiming right dead center, using each globule of red energy as a tracer round, even as he blocked the powerful green beams that were fired in turn.

Scott tasted success when one of his beams knocked the shooter out of the helicopter and saw the figure tumble into the street below and hit the asphalt and was then run over by several cars which skidded to a halt.

The Helicopter started moving toward them, firing a minigun on the chin undermount at Storm, who formed a barrier of electrical energy to deflect the bolts coming towards her and everyone she had just finished dragging away from now completely on fire cars, starting to cough badly from the nearby smoke from burning tires. A flicker of rage in her mind and a red lightning bolt struck near the helicopter from above, forcing the pilot to veer off. Scott took off his glasses when he saw it was above empty ground two heavy golden beams from his eyes destroyed the tail rotor, causing it to start spinning out of control until Storm's growing rage smacked it with another crimson lightning bolt, forcing it to tumble straight down with a single, violent bounce on the road before it skidded to a stop about forty meters ahead of Scott, who was already heading to the crashed chopper with a livid snarl on his face, sensing the still moving atoms of the pilot, frantically struggling to get free of the now burning chopper. The veins in Scott's hands glowed red as he tore off the chopper door with a momentary burst of superhuman strength, violently ripping the pilot out and tossing him skidding twelve meters across the ground, before walking to the badly bleeding and injured pilot, while cracking his knuckles menacingly.

"You're probably going to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair..." Scott remarked coldly.

"But unless you also want to spend it eating through a straw," he said, standing over the injured man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, Japanese, with a buzzcut and orange, catlike eyes. A Mutant, Scott realized... "You'll tell me exactly who you work for."

"N...no...need...for threats...the answer was yours for the asking. We are...we are..." the pilot coughed, his Japanese accent very noticeable.

"We are the Dawn of the White Light."

Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Who?"

The pilot chuckled, coughed violently before continuing.

"Man, when he said Essex wiped your mind like dish soap getting leftover dinner off a plate, he wasn't kidding..."

"Who..." Scott demanded in a seething tone, "is 'he'?"

"You'll see..." the pilot chuckled. "He's coming to kill both of us..."

"What is the Dawn of the White Light?" Scott asked.

"We are Mutants who accept the truth, that it is the destiny of Mutantkind to destroy both Humanity, themselves, and the Earth, and reduce all to a clean slate...from which the Universe can build something new..."

"And exactly who benefits?"

"Humanity, for finally having the answer to whether or not they deserve to survive..."

"And how do Mutants benefit?"

"We shall turn their Earth into our playground as we destroy one another and live through destruction..."

"You hate life that much, why not just get a therapist?"

"Didn't you hear?!" the pilot shouted. "Playground. Destruction."

A shifting of atoms made Scott dive behind a road barrier, the green beam passing through the area Scott had been half a second before and turning the Pilot instantly to stone.

Scott poked his head from behind the barrier, saw a tall, fair skinned, well-dressed teenager of Japanese descent in a crimson business suit, three-piece, with gold buttons and cuff links, His features were symmetrical, sculpted, to an almost eerie level, with a short mop of black hair, wearing a black visor with a green material as the focusing element in its long strip of a lens.

It was the smile though, that Scott took notice of. It looked familiar...

"Mister Summers! Such a delight to finally see you outside controlled conditions!" the teenager said, his voice having a crisp Japanese accent, while still speaking perfect English. There was a playfulness to it that instantly had Scott on edge. He didn't hear anything...actually human underneath it all.

"That voice..." Scott said, getting up, holding the shield.

"The mind wipes are starting to wear off, I see..."

"You're...I know you..." Scott trailed, fighting the haze of the Mind Editor Essex had subjected him to.

The young man grinned. "Go on..."

"You're...you're..." Scott trailed, confused, before a name bubbled up from his subconscious.

"You're...Tomi...Tomi Shishido,,,"

"The Gorgon to your Basilisk..." Tomi replied, still grinning.

"It's Cyclops, actually," Scott said.

Shishido threw out a cold laugh at the reply...

"Ha! How fitting. The Gorgon versus The Cyclops. Loser goes to Hades."

"You think you'd get Elysium after what you did here?"

"I? Silly boy. YOU'RE the one who wanted to go to the park. I'm just capitalizing on your mistake. All these people here got hurt because of you."

"What the hell do you want me dead for?"

The young man's smile became distinctly cruel and what he said next put him on alert.

"Because I have been shown the truth by interested parties. If you die, the Dawn can initiate the final cleansing war that will leave the Earth a barren waste as we have always dreamed. And as a bonus, it will screw over Sinister's plans, and prove me your superior..."

"I'm starting to be thankful I don't quite remember you. You must have been a friggin' barrel of laughs..." Scott muttered.

"To be graced with the honor of being personally slain by me, is more than you deserve, Summers."

"You sound like a self-important psycho," Scott snorted. "I don't think there's anything special about you, Shishido."

Shishido's grin only widened. But Scott could tell the reply had stung.

"Oh Summers, that is where you are so wrong..." Gorgon replied, gritting teeth suddenly. Violent mood swinger, Scott noted. In the distance, he could see Storm frantically applying CPR to an unconscious child, barely succeeding in reviving them, she was quietly trying to gather everybody she rescued to lead them off the road to safety.

"After all...who do you think taught you what you needed to overcome Sinister's trials?"

"Guess it's time to see if any of it stuck," Scott grunted, though his face remained otherwise emotionless at what he said next.

"Or if you're just a crap teacher..." Scott added coldly.

"Funny you should mention stuck...because that's exactly how I'll leave you," Gorgon sneered. "Your skin, turned to stone...while your organs liquify and rot on the inside with you fully aware of it..."

"Let's party then, Shishido. Men like you annoy me."

Gorgon's finger went up to his visor's side, tapping a large button that doubled as an adjustment dial, and a green wide ray of energy escape the green lens of his visor, the impact of which sent Scott flying, blocking the deadly rays with the back-up shield. Scott landed elegantly, deflecting Gorgon's beams, which he noted with no small amount of horror seemed to function almost exactly like his own eye-beams did in most respects save the end result. In desperation, Scott used the trick he had learned fighting Cable, and a thin golden beam shot out of his eyes close to Gorgon's feet, hitting the asphalt, which glowed a meter around the spot they hit before exploding, sending Gorgon hurling into a car's window, sustaining multiple broken bones and cuts on impact.

But Scott knew better to keep his guard down at this point and slowly approached, crouching low, holding the shield in front of him.

Gorgon shot up, all his wounds healing at high speed. He tapped the side of his black visor, and a much larger, wider beam of green energy shot out, driving Scott back as it smacked into the shield Scott held. Scott scrambled for a plan, because there could be serious consequences to discharging his beams full strength at Gorgon. At ground level, if his beams missed, they could hit a person, vehicle, or building, a factor Tomi clearly didn't care about, due to how indiscriminate his firing pattern was.

Scott abused the delayed reaction trick Cable had taught (perhaps intentionally, Scott was starting to realize.) and fired at the ground again with the thin combustion beams, again, making another tremendous explosion, but this time Gorgon was ready for it, somersaulting in a superhuman manner away from the blast.

"Why Summers, you've picked up a new trick! I'm impressed!" Gorgon praised, before flinging a series of shuriken at Scott's feet, forcing him to jump back as they exploded. He found himself forced to block the large, deadly green beams out of Gorgon's eyes with the shield, realized Gorgon was relentless in knowing when to keep the pressure on an opponent, never giving them a chance to catch their breath.

Gorgon smirked and turned his gaze to a road in the distance that still had plenty of traffic.

Scott did not bother attempting to appeal to Shishido's sense of humanity, he simply threw the Shield in a discus like manner at Shishido's head, ready to sacrifice an advantage to bait Shishido into keeping his focus on him instead of innocent people...

Shishido caught it and immediately tossed it aside, firing at him ruthlessly as Summers dived behind a fallen car to avoid being turned into a church gargoyle, firing another pair of thin, concentrated gold beams at an abandoned motorcycle directly behind Gorgon out of desperation. The bike COMPLETELY exploded, flinging shrapnel into the back of Gorgon as well as sending him flying forward, knocking the visor off of him.

Two great beams of energy, almost the full size of Scott's beams at maximum output, came out almost uncontrollably of Shishido's eyes, and he didn't seem able to control their output, and to Scott's stoic yet growing horror, he realized that unlike him, Gorgon COULDN'T turn off his eye beams, and was dependent on the visor yet started laughing psychotically as he whipped his gaze at Storm's direction, focused on still evacuating the injured.

Storm barely got the barrier of crimson lightning up around her before the beams impacted on her, sending her back, and a strain like nothing she had ever known took hold as she struggled to keep up the amount of electrical energy required to withstand the deadly energy. The shrapnel in Gorgon's back began being pushed out of his body. Storm began to weaken, and unlike last time, when the helicopter had fired on her, she didn't have energy to spare for a lightning strike from the sky. All of it was devoted to preventing Tomi Shishido from turning her into a statue.

This forced Scott out of hiding, closing one eye and firing a compacted energy beam between Gorgon's legs at the ground in front of him.

The ground burst with shrapnel right into Gorgon's eyes, and he staggered back, clutching his face in pain, but given what he had seen so far, Scott knew he had bought everyone maybe a few minutes at most. He tried to run but the badly wounded Gorgon closed lined Scott as he tried to get past him.

"I sense Atoms TOO!" Gorgon roared, complex karate assaults bearing down on Scott, who was able to block a lot but not all of his assailants' vicious attacks, the training he didn't remember undergoing taking over like a reflex. Gorgon's superhuman strength seemed to be constant, unlike Scott's which came in bursts. One mistake led to a few more and when Scott got kicked in the diaphragm and slammed into a car, he knew Gorgon had the edge on him at close range as well as his additional advantages of strength and fast healing, even as he struggled to breath.

"Can I teach, or can I teach?" Gorgon asked, gleefully grabbing Scott by the neck and slowly, sadistically increasing pressure.

"I guess this makes me Odysseus also," Gorgon gloated as he squeezed, building up the strength to break Scott's neck, even as Scott fought desperately to free himself.

Scott started to black out...

A fat meaty hand tapped Gorgon from behind, and the blinded Gorgon, so focused on savoring Scott's approaching death, hadn't sensed the displacement of Atoms.

Gorgon turned and Blob's fat thumbs drove themselves into already injured eyes, ripping the enraged, screaming Gorgon away from Scott and HURLED the psychopath far, far off. Over forty kilometers, to be exact.

"Hey, Slim!" Blob greeted. "You, uh, having some trouble here?"

"Fred, am I glad to see you," Scott coughed, rubbing his neck as Fred helped him up.

"But where the hell did you come from?" Scott inquired.

"Uh, I just got back from Germany..." Blob answered quickly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Scott blinked. "You went to Germany?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, it was some quick business, Mystique found out her son was alive and roped me, Princess, and Toad into going with her to find him."

"Well, where the hell are they?" Scott asked, finally standing up on his own power.

Blob glanced at a strange digital watch of a model he hadn't been wearing when he left, and one Scott had never seen before.

"They should be arriving at the Morlock outpost out here right about...now..." he answered.

"Where'd you get that watch?" Scott asked.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," Blob answered, repeating his earlier answer when asked what Loki had given him in comparison to the others.

Scott and Blob stared at each other.

"Alright Fred. But eventually, that answer is going to run out of steam," Scott told him firmly.

Blob only sighed and nodded in understanding.

"I know, Slim, and I'm sorry I can't tell you right now."

"I know Fred," Scott replied, giving Blob a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Thank you for saving my life."

"No problem," Blob replied.

The pair went to find Storm lying unconscious. Everyone she had rescued had fled the scene. The strain of blocking Gorgon's beams at full strength had caused her to lose consciousness soon after Scott had had successfully stopped him from being able to fire at her...

"Ororo?!" Scott called out, coughing, staggering to Storm, shaking her.

"She's out cold..." Scott realized out loud. "Fred, you grab her, I'm too messed up..."

Blob nodded and scooped her up. Meanwhile, Scott looked down and noticed Gorgon's visor and immediately snatched it up, though he didn't dare to put it on, in case there was some sort of security system.

"What's that?!" Blob said. "It looks like your visor!"

Scott looked down, then at the devastation around him.

"The Gorgon's Eye..." Scott answered, pocketing the device, doubting it was the last he had seen of its owner...

"Let's get out of here..." he said after he spotted the Captain America Shield and retrieved it. He also spotted the bike and ran over to it, testing it. One of the mirrors had been ripped off and the body was still scuffed on one side but was still serviceable. It could be ridden still.

Counting his blessings, Scott signaled to Blob it was time to move.

...

"I noticed something strange..." Scott mentioned dryly as they got off the road into nearby desert, Scott walking the inactive bike across the dirt. He found it seemed to be child's play to move the bike, then remembered that he may be stronger than he thought physically. Over and over, however, he replayed every mistake he had made against Gorgon.

"Hear that?" Scott asked as they headed to a hill, Blob carrying an unconscious Storm as delicately as he could, walking alongside Scott and the salvaged Motorcycle.

"Hear what?" Blob asked as his heavy steps made the earth rumble beneath him.

"Exactly..." Scott replied. "No cops. Not even ambulances. No sirens. Where are the sirens? Where's the news or police choppers?"

Blob blinked.

"You're right...they should be swarming this place right now. Why aren't they?" Blob asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Scott replied with a grimace. "But for now it's best to not look a gift Horse in the Mouth...

"Maybe someone held them off..." Blob mused. "But who has that kind of pull?"

"Someone we're not ready to mess with, if you're right..." Scott replied.

"What do we do though?" Blob asked. "We're in the desert. We have no water. Anybody out here with the cops finds us, they're gonna put two and two together."

"I see some caves in the east," Scott replied. "We'll hang out in one of them until nightfall, then try and keep close to the road as much as possible until we see a point we can get back into Hank's neighborhood..."

Even as Scott said it, he knew this was a disaster. Everyone, including him, had underestimated the level of attention they would attract to themselves. His blocked memories were a flaw that had nearly cost them their lives.

They could afford no more mistakes. No more errors. Not from him. Not if he wanted to stop Sinister. And yet again, he had been caught with his pants down.

He would have to work out a contingency plan EVERY TIME anyone went out, especially on short notice.

"Who was that guy that was trying to kill you?" Blob asked as they went through the desert, making sure to keep the road in line of sight at all times as they made their way to the cave systems.

"His name is Tomi Shishido. Also known as Gorgon," Scott answered.

"I don't remember him from the Orphanage. Where'd you meet him?" Blob wondered.

"I don't recall. My memory of him has been blocked by Essex's Mind Editor," Scott replied.

Finally, after forty minutes of walking, after which they FINALLY heard sounds of choppers coming, they just barely reach the mouth of a cave before a Police Chopper flew over, Sirens at last starting to appear. Scott rested the salvaged bike and the Captain America Shield against the inner cave wall.

"Now we just wait for nightfall..." Scott said as Blob set the still unconscious Storm down.

"What were you even doing out here?" Blob asked.

"It was a stupid mistake. I needed air. Time to think out my problems," Scott answered with a grimace, watching as the Police showed.

"It won't happen again..." Scott said.

"You think we should have had all those people who got hurt stick close?" Blob wondered as he went to watch the response by Law Enforcement trickle in with Scott.

"The safest place they could be right now, is as far from us as possible," Scott said in stoic fashion, the grimace not leaving his face.

"He would have slaughtered them, all because I was there..." he said...

"You couldn't have known..." Blob protested quietly.

"I should have known. I'm a magnet for violence. We all are..." Scott realized.

It was about an hour before sundown that Storm finally woke up, stirring, groaning. She felt nauseated.

"Ororo, it's me. It's Cyclops..." Scott said, going over to her after a very boring few hours waiting in a cave.

"The civilians...the ones in the cars..." Ororo called out.

"They escaped..." Cyclops assured.

"Cyclops..." Storm said, squinting in the low light.

"Fred's here too," Scott breathed, relieved she had woken up. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a drained battery..." Storm grunted, seeing the two gold points of light in the center of Scott's uncovered eyes. She was taken aback by how beautiful his eyes were, how they made her heart beat a little faster, but kept that to herself. "Where are we?" she asked.

"In a cave, not far from the road, in the desert..."

Storm sat up. "Who was it that attacked us?"

"Gorgon. He's a member of some Mutant Apocalypse Cult. Bastard claims he showed me the ropes. He's tough, certainly," Scott explained, holding up his visor. "But I managed to get his visor..."

Scott held it up after pulling it up out of his pocket.

"It looks like yours...slightly..." she said, looking at it. "Can it block your beams?"

"I dunno. Haven't tried. Might be booby-trapped..." Scott remarked. "But's it's good you're alright."

"What's the plan?"

"We make our way back to Hank's place under cover of darkness and avoid the Police," Scott said. "A simple plan at this point is the best."

Hey, what's that?" Blob asked, pointing deeper into the darkness of the cave.

Scott turned, saw a faint white light in the depths of the cave itself.

"Don't know..." Scott said, whipping out his red glasses, which adjusted to the extremely low lighting, allowing him to see. Hank really was a talented designer.

"They say curiosity killed the cat..." Scott said. "Should we investigate?"

"I dunno man, going to investigate a strange light in a cave sounds like the start to a scenario that ends with the words, 'And they were never seen again...' " Storm pointed out.

"None of the people in those stories were Mutants..." Scott replied. "We still got time. Fred can wait at the front entrance."

"No way, I'm scared of being alone at night outside!" Fred protested.

Scott sighed. "Alright Fred, come with us..."

"This is a very bad idea," Storm pointed out.

"Whatever is here can't possibly be worse than trying to alter the details of an Absolute Point," Scott reminded her.

"Says the Time Traveller," Storm joked.

They proceeded deeper into the cave, Scott at the front. It was damp smelling. Scott sensed no atoms of moving animals. Not even insects.

"That guy, Gorgon...he had powers like yours...and he was going to murder them all once he got done with me..." Storm mentioned.

"See why I think MY power is too dangerous to have?" Scott asked with a snort.

"I...I'm starting to..." Storm admitted. Even Amahl Farouk himself, Storm thought in private of an old enemy, wasn't that callously, sadistically, and above all senselessly evil...

Her glowing eyes glanced at Scott.

"But if we hadn't been there-"

"He hurt them because I was there. I drew that doom down on those people..." Scott said. "I should never have gone out just to think. Not when we're being hunted on this scale..."

"You couldn't have known Gorgon was on our tails. He wasn't on ANY of our radars before he attacked. Now he is. We'll be ready for him next time..." Storm assured. "Those people lived because of us..."

"They wouldn't have needed saving at all if I had planned for a scenario like that," he retorted, feeling a chill in the cave as he got closer to the white light source. "We can never EVER be that careless again."

Storm had no reply to this. He was right.

They grew closer to the light source, he began to hear a harmonica playing.

They approached the source of the light at last, and found an old, rail thin, grizzled man with floppy, long stringy gray hair in what looked to be white, wide brimmed Stetson hat, wearing a faded white shirt and black slacks with suspenders and matching black shoes, sitting on an worn boulder playing a harmonica in front of a fire that was an unsettling, unnatural bright white in color. He had a long, curly mustache and a short gray goatee with gray eyes. A lever action shotgun with no stock modified for one handed flip cocking by increasing the size of the lever "loop" rested on the ground next to him. He stopped playing when he saw them, giving a friendly smile. While they detected nothing malevolent in his smile, EVERYTHING about his presence sent a chill through their blood they couldn't explain. Subconsciously, they all knew something was wrong. That him being here didn't make any sense.

"Well, howdy there, cowpokes..." he said with the voice of a cigar smoker and whiskey drinker in one aged package. "Pull up a seat on them logs there. I don't bite. Actually, I'm grateful for the company..."

"Who are you? What are you doing in this cave?" Scott asked.

"Could ask the same of you, on both counts, but I get the feelin' you ain't one for answerin' inconvenient questions if you don't have to..." the old man replied.

Scott hesitantly sat on a nearby log with Storm.

"You like spelunking, I take it?" Blob asked, folding his arms, hiding how intensely creeped out he was by the Man.

"Oh, I used to explore these hills and valleys in my youth..." The Man answered. "All sorts of neat little secrets...old mines and such. One time, I even found me a tomb... in this very cave in fact..."

"Who's tomb?" Storm asked, blood turning to ice at the Man's unexplained presence here, his overly casual demeanor, his lack of curiosity at their own situation or the fact her glowing red eyes were completely exposed.

"A man named Carter Slade..." the Man answered, staring into the white flames, which made his eyes take on an eerie white glow from the perspective of the others looking at him.

Scott scoffed.

"Bull. Next you'll tell me you found Davy Crocket's gold reserves..." he said dismissively to the old man.

"Who's Carter Slade?" Storm asked.

"A Texas Ranger of some fame before World War One broke out," Scott said, the white flame reflecting on his red lenses. The old man terrified him, and he was hiding it.

The Old Man terrified him because Scott couldn't sense his Atoms. It was like he wasn't there.

"He revolutionized Law Enforcement across the state and was so famous and respected he even served after his time as a Ranger as an Ambassador to England. He was also accused more than three times of being the Vigilante known as The Ghost Rider, who terrorized organized crime in the state limits." Scott added.

"The same one. Wow. A Youngin' who knows their history. Gives this old man some hope for the future..." The Man said.

"Even if his tomb is here, of what use or interest is it to you?" Storm asked.

"Because legend has it, there was one criminal that Slade never caught..." The Man said, glancing into the white flame.

"A wicked woman, who abused science for her own ends...torturing...butchering..." the Old Man began...

The hairs on Scott's arms stood straight up.

"Who was this woman?" Scott asked slowly, studying for any sign of deception. Strangely, in spite of what was going on, he didn't feel like the Man was lying.

"The Criminal was named Natasha Enoch. Her theories about evolution needed test subjects to be proven. Too many..." The Man answered.

"Was that her real name?" Scott asked.

"I doubt it. But he spent the rest of his life trying to track her down. Supposedly, his case files are in the tomb."

"You still never said what your interest was..." Blob pointed out.

"I'm just a guy who feels the truth should be preserved. Brought to light eventually but preserved until its ready to be revealed..." the man answered.

"If you're so interested, why not go to the tomb and have a look?" Storm wondered in suspicion, hiding her increasing terror of the strange man. She couldn't sense his electrical field.

"Because...there's something...ornery...in that there tomb..." The Old Man replied with very dark chuckle.

"Like what?"

"I ain't been curious enough to go investigating after the sounds I heard earlier..." the Man said with a wry, playful grin. "You're welcome to risk it though. Who knows? You might get lucky and find something..."

The silence hung pregnant in the air for a few seconds.

"The entrance..." Scott trailed. "Where is it?"

"Take a right on the passage behind me..." The Man said. "Can't miss it..."

The three Mutants looked at one another.

"Blob, you stay with this gentleman. Storm and I will go and investigate..." Scott replied.

"No problem, Cyke," Blob replied quietly, not taking his eyes of the stranger for a second. "I got my eye on him..."

The old man reached down for the shotgun slowly. Scott and everyone else tensed up before the Man handed the shotgun to Scott.

"Here, Cowboy. Sumthin' tells me you're gonna need this..."

Scott took it very hesitantly, not saying anything.

The Old Man shrugged and resumed playing his harmonica.

"Cyclops, this is mental..." Storm scolded as she followed him down the cave passage. "For all we know, he could be prepping us for being stuffed into garbage bags!" The complaint was not without warrant. Having come so close to death in spite of the horrific level of power she already commanded, Storm was less confidant than usual.

"A quick observation won't hurt. We'll be careful," Scott promised. "I'm...trusting my gut..."

"This feels wrong. That man feels wrong..." she said quietly.

"I know, Ororo..." Scott acknowledged. "At the same time...I don't believe he was lying to us."

"How can you be so sure?" she wondered, her anxiety edging into her voice. Small arcs of red lightning danced on the ebon skin of clenched fists.

"I can't explain it...I just...I can't explain it..." he finally decided. "But I feel that this is important..."

"But who is that man? Why do you think he is here?" she pressed.

"I have a couple of theories..." Scott admitted, expressionless. "They are all quite horrifying."

"Such as?"

"I'd rather not give you nightmares."

Storm went silent as they walked.

"No insects...no rodents...not even a lizard..." Scott said almost under his breath, the air on the verge of being damp when it suddenly became oddly chilly.

They saw the light of another white flame in the distance, they came across the stone statue of a man whose face was covered by a stylized mask designed to evoke the image of an upper half of a skull in a leather duster wearing a pinstripe suit and Stetson Hat, grasping a torch from which emitted the same white flame as the stranger's campfire, standing on a pedestal in front of an ajar tomb door.

"I saw on a news special somewhere that The Ghost Rider's mask inspired the chest insignia of The Punisher..." Scott mentioned as he stared at the statue trying to distract themself from the eerie horror of their new situation.

"You mean that ex-marine who went whacko on The Italian Mob last year? I forgot his real name..." Storm mentioned, examining it, the number of reasons why the flame could POSSIBLY be lit down here with no one noticing scaring her to her very core. They were both desperately trying to hide how terrified they were.

"Frank Castle..." Scott confirmed, a bead of fear-sweat trailing down his forehead, heart pounding. "There's evidence he did Black Ops work in Vietnam, so he came back more screwed up than a lot of those who made it back home did. They did a documentary on him and everything..."

Scott ventured slowly to the tomb door, signaling her to get on the side of the door. as he pushed it open with the barrel.

"Tomb? Seems more like a bunker..." Storm noted as she peaked in.

"Sometimes, even today, there isn't much of a difference..." Scott replied, stepping into the passageway, which had a baroque feel to its architecture...

"You sure that shotgun is even loaded?" Storm asked, keeping behind him.

"It's loaded..." Scott said. "But the shotgun's atoms feel...strange."

"Strange how?" Storm asked, the air getting chillier, both of them suddenly able to see their breath.

"Just...strange..." he responded very quietly, moving very slowly through the bunker like tomb, finding another door ajar up ahead amidst a field of cobwebs.

The door behind them slammed shut...

"Cyclops, blast it!" Storm said.

Scott took off his glasses and tried to fire...only to find that he couldn't. The power wouldn't come out...

"Something isn't letting me..." he whispered. "You try..."

Storm tried to use her lightning but grew concerned when it wouldn't even come out of her hands.

"What the hell?!" she whispered.

"Relax..." Scott said, feeling odd. Without his power, he was at a distinct disadvantage.

Ironic, he mused to himself, as he signaled Storm to follow him to the next door. He wanted to be a normal human more than anything. Now he was in the one place where being a normal human was no advantage.

Scott quietly tipped the door open and quickly peeked inside, saw a simple room with a theatre like set up, an early century projector in the back under cobwebs. It was deathly silent. Scott slowly went in and investigated the room.

"Nothing. No traps anyway..." he noted.

Storm headed over to the projector wiping away the webbing.

"I wonder if this still works..." she mused, flipping switch on.

Something buzzed from in its internals and an ancient, colorless film played out on a wall with the title CASE FILE NO. 961: Enoch, Natasha. April 5, 1915. SUBJECT: ILLEGAL EXPERIMENTATION ON HUMAN SUBJECTS.

It switched quickly from a tile to an image of a lab with lots of test tubes, beakers, electrodes, and Bunsen burners.

"Sometimes I lament having Doctor Newton committed. He was so much better at properly implementing these deep brain invasive implants..." came a posh English voice that chilled both Scott and Ororo upon hearing it.

It was the voice of Natalie Essex...

She eventually came into view, and Scott's stomach twisted as she wheeled in a cart that had some kind of Jar covered by a sheet. She looked exactly like she did today, a youthful woman in her early thirties, with very fair skin and long, raven black hair, with an hourglass figure and thin lips. The film didn't show it, but up close he had observed her eyes were the color of autumn. All things considered, Essex was rather beautiful, and as a boy, newly traumatized from losing his family in the plane crash, that same beauty, that keen intelligence, had made him lower his guard...and it had made Scott hate her more as time went on, because he knew the beauty was camouflage, and the Mind, no matter how intelligent, still that of a sadist. She even had that same conservative stance on fashion, albeit dressed in a manner almost reminiscent of a schoolteacher from that time period.

"My God, she hasn't aged a day!" Storm exclaimed.

"Once more my efforts at developing proper Psy-Amplifier Security Systems has come up short. Using the Brain of one of my failed Mother Righteous Specimens has indeed produced results that can be recreated after a fashion, but they are well below expected results, with generated constructs only having a range of manifestation of about two hundred meters, with signal strength and cohesiveness diluting if placed underground. Seems the signal gets weaker the more layers of earth it has to fight through...we may want to consider placing a system like this somewhere high for maximum effect..."

The woman smiled and Scott instinctively clenched his teeth in a silent, hate filled rage.

"Nevertheless, we have achieved positive confirmation on many of my and Doctor Newton's theories. I'm sure he would be proud. That reminds me, I really must make sure to send him some more subjects as thanks for letting me have a look at his blueprints and private journals. The world considers him a mad scientist, but really, how can you figure out how to take a brain out of a human skull, keep it intact and alive, jam it full of custom electrodes and processor chips made from scratch to generate a psychic image WITHOUT being a little mad by necessity? Madness is part of science. Science without Madness is, well, it's just a chore...Science without Madness isn't FUN Science...isn't TRUE Science..."

Her smile grew wider as she withdrew the sheet. Scott wanted to vomit when he saw the Brain in the Jar, covered in strange machinery dotting every fold of its surface, suspended in a glowing green fluid.

"My calling in life, is to advance the cause of Science..." she proclaimed as a test subject, a young man in tattered clothes was rolled out in five-point restraints, screaming for help.

"I'll not be held back by the backbiting, handwringing moralists too scared to voice and pursue the more exotic theories for the sake of maintaining their standing. Nor will I be constrained by the Petty Eugenicist, concerned more with Cultural Homogeny, with the advance of only one group of Humanity based on nothing more than hair, skin, and eye color..." she continued, going to a nearby table and typing on something that looked like a modern home computer, but made of brass...

"I am above these despicable creatures holding back Humankind's potential. I'll let history determine whether or not my actions were...Sinister..." she finished.

As the film showed her typing in commands the camera also saw a figure coalescing out of thin air as a glowing mist as the Brain in the jar glowed, green energy that resembled electricity arcing across the machinery on its brain tissue.

The figure took the form of a red skinned, hourglass figure woman who almost exactly resembled Essex but with Red Skin and white hair, in a white dress with an unusually low neckline, who turned to the screaming figure, who started truly shrieking as the red skinned woman opened her mouth, and an unearthly scream poured out before the film cut...

"What. The hell..." Storm breathed.

"It appears Essex has been active a very long time indeed..." Scott observed.

"What are the odds of us stumbling on this place?" Storm asked.

"Beyond astronomical..." he acknowledged, turning to her.

"We can't leave now. We 'must' know more..."

"Agreed," she said, glowing red eyes squinting in resolve. She would get Essex even if she had to fight the ghost of Carter Slade himself.

Scott crept quietly to the theater exit, filled with new resolve in spite of his now extremely severe disadvantage.

The passage led into a parlor of sorts, which had a shelf of books, a turn of the century forensics lab, long defunct and broken down, the lights long ago fallen dead, save for the eerie white flames on the torch sconces that lined the room, yet gave off no heat.

Scott's head darted around as he heard the soft giggling of a woman's voice.

"What was that?!" Storm whispered fearfully.

"Stick close to me..." Scott trailed keeping the lever action shotgun leveled in front of him as he went forward.

"This 'tomb' is starting to look more and more like a secret lair..." she surmised.

"Perhaps the old man was speaking metaphorically..." Scott mused as he headed over to an open book on a desk.

"Ororo..." he called out, picking it up. "It's Carter Slade's journal..."

"What does it say?" she asked, going over to him.

"I have taken into my hideout the evidence seized from Doctor Enoch's Estate. Her basement proved to be a museum of horrors I can't even begin to properly describe, as half the time, I do not understand what I am looking at. Many of the other investigators were badly affected by the sights they witnessed storming her property. If there ever was anyone fit for a noose or the electric chair, Enoch qualifies. Whichever comes first," Scott said, reading from the book directly. "The device we recovered for lack of a better word, has an unknown purpose. I do not understand what Enoch meant by Psychic Imagery. I hadn't taken her for one of those new-fangled spiritualists. The film unfortunately cut off before it could explain how a brain in a jar could conjure a red skinned woman. The thing is an abomination unto God, by I cannot be rid of it just yet. Not until I understand its purpose. Enoch indicated in the recovered film that she intended to make more. The Device is inactive, but I dared not store it with the rest of the evidence, as I judged the risk too dangerous. So, I have stored the device in the deepest section of my hideout. If what the film claimed was accurate, any malfunction her Brain Machine suffers will have at least a limited form of containment."

His eyes trailed down to the last line on the page, with the rest afterwards blank.

"I think I hear a sound from down below. It was an odd noise. I'm going to go check. Can't leave anything to chance..." he read out loud.

"How could the machine still be active after all this time?" Storm asked uneasily.

"I dunno, Storm. How can I shoot blasts of energy from my eyes? How can you shoot lightning from your fingers?" he questioned rhetorically.

Storm glowered.

"Point taken..."

"It's settled then. We investigate the lower levels. I have a feeling we aren't leaving until we do..."

"Oh, my darlings..." came the soft voice of a woman who sounded dangerously similar to Essex, were it not for a touch more playfulness in tone.

They spun to face the red skinned woman in the white dress from the film. Scott's expression involuntarily turned into a snarl, her resemblance to Essex enraging him on an instinctual level.

"When you have both sworn yourselves to me...you'll never ever want to leave at all..." the woman said, smiling clasping her hands together. "Mother Righteous has so many secrets to show the willing..."

"Mother Righteous?" Scott snorted, though he found to his distress that much like the Old Man who had given him the shotgun, he could not sense her Atoms either.

"Yes..." Righteous replied easily. "Y'know, you look familiar...have we met?" she asked Scott, eyeing him in curiosity.

"I could have sworn I had seen you somewhere..." she exclaimed. "Damn the fog of memory..."

"You look like somebody I know..." he replied. "A Miss Natalie Essex..."

Mother Righteous chuckled.

"Using her real name...interesting..." Righteous mused rubbing her chin. "Perhaps she feels enough time has passed...hmmm..."

"You her sister or something?" Ororo asked with a subtle, hateful snort, teeth bare in a snarl.

This only intrigued the crimson skinned woman.

"She must have upset you two bad..." she realized with an intrigued giggle. "Tell me, what did she do?"

"I get the feeling telling you would be just as bad as letting the actual Essex know my deepest, darkest fears," Scott replied, training the barrel dead center at her chest.

Righteous smirked.

"What makes you think she doesn't already know them?" Righteous questioned slyly.

"Because I would not have escaped her if she had," Scott answered back scathingly. "She knows her Technology. No question. But if she ever had a sense of people, she's completely forgotten it. Or never knew it to begin with."

Righteous raised an eyebrow.

"Y'know, that's almost the exact way Carter Slade described her..." Righteous mentioned.

"Is it an inaccurate assessment?" Scott asked.

"In the short time I knew him before ending him, I found Slade to be a rather perceptive fellow. Sadly, not perceptive enough to understand the gift I was offering..."

"Gift?" Storm sneered, just waiting for the violence to erupt at this point.

"I offer certainty. And the only certainty of life is power," Righteous said in a friendly manner, teleporting behind them.

"Even with your great powers, the one who created me would still triumph over you easily. She is more ruthless than Temujin himself," Righteous said from behind Scott, whispering into his ear sweetly, sending waves of revulsion at her proximity through him.

"I, however, can give you the power you need to finally bring down the one you hate. Together, we could be unstoppable..."

"If you're that powerful, why can't you leave?" Storm asked, scowling. "This sounds like the bargain a parasite would make..."

"If you're that powerful, you don't need us. You would have killed her yourself," Scott pointed out. "Instead...you're a Brain in a Jar, aren't you?"

"Only for now, darling...only for now..." Righteous replied with a faint smile as she circled them.

"Tell you what...how about a sample?" Righteous asked, snapping her fingers.

Scott stumbled back, dropped the shotgun. Storm caught him as Scott removed his glasses, multihued colors and faint sparks emitting from his eyes.

"You don't even know what you are..." Righteous said gently. "You're Omega Level."

Storm's eyes widened. She knew what the term meant.

Righteous looked at her. "And so are you."

"There's no such thing. It's a fairy tale," Storm replied with a snort.

"Omegas are very real..." Righteous replied, snapping her fingers again.

Storm stumbled back, clutching her head as her hair turned completely white before she involuntarily levitated, red lightning arcing violently off her body.

"Your only blocks are doubt, and hesitation..." Righteous whispered, though the whisper echoed loudly in their heads as Storm and Scott both swooned.

"With me, you could both take your rightful place as the true leaders of this world... Go on, Summers..." Righteous whispered, grinning. "Make your wonderful gaze leave your skull as the most frigid rays of cold..."

Scott stared at her suspiciously but decided to test it anyway, and took a look at a chair, willing his beams to leave his body.

Bright sky-blue beams erupted from his eyes, hitting the chair, freezing it solid in seconds. Scott's mouth briefly fell open.

Righteous turned to Storm.

"You can do so much more than just shoot lightning..." she said as Storm struggled not to be dizzy.

"I can feel the nature of your genes with my magic...your power is over the very aspect of weather itself...make it rain, Munroe..." Mother Righteous encouraged.

Storm held out her hand, and focused, imagining the clouds gather, pregnant with moisture.

Slowly but surely, a small, miniature cloud gathered, and water began to drip on the floor. Storm stepped back in shock.

"Tsunamis..." Righteous whispered, stepping closer to her...

"Hurricanes. Blizzards. All can be summoned at your whim, if you have the will for it..." she said. "Electricity comes easy to you because of rage...a rage at yourself...for what you did..."

Storm glowered, face becoming guilt stricken for a second.

Righteous clasped her hands together.

"This is only a taste. With my guidance, the very earth shall quake beneath our feet..."

"And what do you get in exchange? Beyond a free ride out of here...in one of our bodies?" Scott asked.

Righteous raised an eyebrow.

"That's a much better deal for you, isn't it. Not only do you leave here, but eventually, you get one of our bodies right? Or you get us to make a body for you...preferably one that has access to both our abilities so you can just cut out the middleman..." Scott surmised with a dismissive snort.

"Never gonna happen, Cherry Face..." he said, folding his arms. "I suppose you'll just have to kill us now..."

Righteous stared at him. She smiled only very faintly at this point.

"Yes...Essex is right to be all sorts of interested in your progression," she trailed, clearly intrigued. "You would make a most formidable protege. To either her OR me..."

Her hands went to her hips. "Unfortunately for all three of us...neither of you were born yesterday..."

"Now, what to do about this impasse. We tried the carrot. Let's try the stick. Mother Righteous would much rather employ the former, but I assure you, she is no slouch at the latter..."

Righteous then frowned, and Scott realized she was much more similar to Essex than he thought. When the mirth left, it LEFT.

"I can keep you spinning your wheels longer than you can stay sane," she gloated. "I WILL leave this tomb of this failed lawman one way or another. If I must drive one of you mad to kill the other and then serve me, I can learn just as much from the loser's corpse after I am freed..."

"Or. ORRRR..." Scott trailed obnoxiously, trying to provoke her to anger. "We could go to the bottom of this place, find where your brain is, and smash it to pieces."

"I'd like to see you reach the bottom of this place alive..." Righteous sneered.

Scott and Storm doubled over as magical flames swept over their bodies but did not sear nor blister their skin. It was pure, burning agony, and neither had the breath to even scream as Mother Righteous started to cackle.

"The first one who cracks is the first who lives..." Righteous gloated. "Give in to Mother Righteous, and she will show mercy..."

Scott's only response was to fight the burning agony with sheer, blistering hatred, grabbing the shotgun and rising up as Storm writhed on the floor, screaming. He pointed the shotgun at Righteous.

"A shotgun? Really? You're as hopeless as Carter Slade." Righteous sneered.

Scott pulled the Trigger and the fiery blast that ensued was a flash of white sparks that engulfed the psychic body of Righteous, making her scream and writhe, glowing from the center of her form as she became slightly translucent before disappearing, her psychic screams of pain and cursing echoing through their heads as the magic flames left their bodies. He immediately went to check on Storm, who was shaking and crying.

"We bought ourselves a few minutes, I think..." he gasped. "But we need to find her brain NOW."

Rage flooded Storm's face as her now white hair faded back to black, and the multicolored hues left Scott's eyes to become their gold color again.

"She's MINE," Storm snapped, red lightning snaking between her fists. "I get first dibs on that brain..."

They both fled the parlor section going down a wrought iron staircase.

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER FOR AT LEAST ONE OF YOU HAD YOU SUBMITTED... Righteous sneered demonically in their heads. BUT I HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO BREAK YOU...

As they traveled down, Scott and Storm felt their power being dampened once more. From magical flames sprung constructs of Old West Bandits armed with revolvers. Highly detailed, they scorched the floor black with every step they took as they pointed their flaming revolvers at Scott and Storm as they reached the bottom steps, firing bullets of flame that impacted on the walls as hard as real ones would have, forcing Scott to return fire, a white burst of sparks from his shotgun hitting three of the flaming bandit constructs, though more appeared. Storm, fighting through the dampening effect, managed a weak burst of red lightning at one bandit, though she felt her ability to call on her got to attack diminish rapidly while Mother Righteous rebuilt her strength.

More Flame Bandits coalesced, and Scott fired again and again, working the lever and emptying a shell, noticing he had fired way more shells than could logically have been loaded...and that he didn't seem to be running out...

As they moved forward the ground beneath them became as quicksand and Mother Righteous reappeared as they started to sink. Scott tried to aim the shotgun at her but with a very casual wave of her hand, the now liquid ground sprang beneath him, forming tentacles that pulled at his arms and forced the shotgun away."

"Now where did you get this-?" she wondered in curiosity, taking the shotgun away as the Tentacles started to force Scott under.

Storm had one move left in such a situation, because the tentacles from the ground had a pretty good grasp on her also at this point.

It was a minor trick she had discovered once, when trying to catch something as a game. But she was rapidly weakening. Her timing would have to be flawless.

She focused, powered by hatred of Essex, and a tiny rope of red lightning lanced out from her fingers toward the lever device on the shotgun, entwining on the loop to Righteous' surprise and cocking it so an unfired shell started to fall.

"CYKE!" she screamed.

A split second was all Scott needed, firing a compact, thin golden beam at the unfired shell.

The burst was twice as intense and both Scott and Storm cried out as bits of shrapnel from the exploded shell hit them in the arms and legs, but the effect was far worse on Mother Righteous, who screamed as light burst out from within her body before she disappeared again.

The floor instantly warped back to normal, with them perfectly standing as though nothing had happened, but they were both bleeding now. Scott slightly less so, due to his natural durability, but Storm was hobbling on one leg now.

"She's gonna try and finish us off the next instant she shows. We have to find that Brain, who knows how much time that just bought us..." Scott breathed...

"I got hit in the leg..." she complained. "Go without me. I'll only slow you down."

"I leave no one." he replied quietly, taking her arm around his shoulder so he could partly carry her while also carrying the shotgun one handed.

"Now move as though you wish to kill Essex with your bare hands, Munroe!" he all but snapped at her.

Storm nodded and she practically hopped on one leg to follow Scott as more Flame Bandit Constructs came out of adjacent rooms to fire on them, Scott flip-cocking the shotgun and firing at everything that fired at him as he helped Storm to walk with him. Storm noticed he was a crack shot with the weapon, always scoring head shots.

She also noticed, even through the pain of her injuries, that he was handsome and strong and mysterious.

All three categories, but especially the last one, was catnip to her as they fought their way to another staircase, the assault by the flame constructs growing ever more intense.

"We must be close!" Scott yelled as he covered her descent on the steps, returning fire at the constructs before descending himself, still firing to keep the constructs back.

At the bottom of the steps, the chamber was vastly more opened up. Scott saw the torch sconces with the white flames still lit at the bottom revealing what looked to be some kind of vault for evidence. At the end of the Vault was a large iron door labeled RESTRICTED and covered in strange runes that glowed orange. Purple light from the space between the bottom of the door and the floor told him that was where they needed to go.

Mother Righteous reappeared ahead of them, looking absolutely livid.

"WHO GAVE YOU THAT?!" she snapped, staring at his shotgun.

"If you gotta ask, I doubt you're as powerful as you think you are," he replied in a sneer, leveling the shotgun at her.

"Last chance, Cherry Face. Let us go! Let us go and we'll let you keep haunting this basement in peace," he said.

"No one gives orders to Mother Righteous!" Righteous sneered, snapping her fingers.

A pool of green flames appeared next to her and out of it a thick hand with clawed fingers covered in white fur stretched out.

"You think you are the first powerful Mutants to challenge Righteous in her own dominion? Carter Slade was a powerful one, and even he fell!" Righteous taunted as a great beast that was about Hank McCoy's size and profile climbed out of the floor portal. It's eyes glowed green and it snarled as it spotted them.

"Behold, the HUNTER IN DARKNESS!" Mother Righteous screamed as it bolted for them, the swipes from its claws meant to take their heads off, only Scott firing the Shotgun twice sent it flying backward but it got up as quickly as it was downed, roaring as it focused on Scott.

"Ororo, Take the shotgun." he said. "You need it more than I do."

"What about you."

"I can handle an animal. It's the Essex knockoff we need to defeat."

"How?!" Storm asked as the Hunter in Darkness advanced on them.

"You're smart, Ororo. I have confidence in you," Scott replied. "I'll be fine."

Storm reluctantly took the shotgun as Scott began waving his arms at the Hunter.

"Hey furball, it's me you want!" He yelled.

The Hunter roared and bore down on him in savage fury and he was running for his life through the shelves of collected evidence, barely staying out of reach of its claws and jaws.

Storm, meanwhile, staggered her way between the other set of evidence shelves as Righteous began indiscriminately hurling deadly fireballs at her, destroying shelves of old items, collapsing parts of the ceiling to try and catch Storm by surprise. One falling piece knocked the shotgun out of her hand and the floor beneath it started to turn to quicksand as Storm dived for it, barely catching it as her quick thinking made her throw out a red lightning tether to a light fixture above, yanking her out of the pit before the liquid tentacles of the pit could fully ensnare her.

"SEE WHAT YOU HAVE REJECTED!" Righteous shrieked indignantly as Storm barely leapt over a portion of the floor Righteous willed into quicksand with her spells, teleporting to her location and launching a kick at Storm's leg that made the teenage girl buckle in agony before fighting the pain back with rage, pushing through the horror of Essex bathing her in torturous magical flames as a fist coursing with red lightning slammed into the Psychic Construction, making it teleport back to the front of the large iron door covered in runes.

"We're not dead yet!" Storm shouted, the torturous flames on her body vanishing, opening fire, but this time Righteous created a barrier of green energy, smirking.

"You caught me off guard the last two times. I underestimated you both. I won't again," Righteous proclaimed with a cold smile. "Submit. You need not die."

Storm tossed aside the shotgun, fury flooding her as she remembered what Essex had done to earn it.

"You say our only blocks are doubt and will," Storm snapped, focusing harder than she ever had at that point, bolstered by her murderous hatred of Essex.

"Well, I have no doubt that you're a degraded piece of trash on life support..." she snapped, glowing red eyes squinting in loathing. "And as for will...you didn't have the will to successfully escape this place on your own. And while your will may have been stronger than Carter Slade's...it is NOT stronger than MINE!"

Righteous' smile fell away as the construct felt the air start charging with electricity.

"You are nothing but a ghost. A shadow of your old self. And I..." Storm trailed, raising her hands as her most negative emotions allowed her to momentarily break the dampening effect.

"I have the light..."

Brutal red bolts of lightning flooded out of Storm's fingers and hit the barrier Righteous generated, whose form began to bubble and ripple as she struggled to maintain the barrier, but Storm poured her pain and sorrow into the electricity even harder than she usually did, bent on living so she could punish Essex with all her world-shattering fury...

"BREAK." Storm snarled.

Righteous struggled to hold back the onslaught, but nearly a hundred years in this place hadn't done wonders for her ability to practice. The barrier was melted away by the lightning like a stick of butter hitting a hot pan.

Righteous staggered, back, body still rippling everywhere as Storm used a trick with her foot to flip the shotgun upwards back into her hands and then blasted Righteous point blank three separate times, the construct shrieking harder than usual before dissipating.

But it wasn't over, as the Flame Bandit Constructs reappeared, following them down the steps and opening fire on them both, making Storm dive behind a shelf to avoid the fiery bullets, returning fire.

Scott meanwhile, had bought himself time as the Hunter pursued him, moving between shelves, throwing as many obstacles as possible between himself and the white furred monster. His powers were weak here, weak enough he doubted even an unfiltered gold beam from his eyes would down the monster, which showed no signs of slowing down...or giving up on trying to kill him for that matter, and he was getting tired.

The beast began to advance again, snarling quietly as it smelled weakness.

He remembered Cable's advice suddenly from their fight in front of Amora the Enchantress.

Always consider your opponent.

The Hunter was an animal, already on alert, already amped up. It was just a matter of making it attack at the wrong moment...and Scott had spotted a particularly useful obstruction he created in knocking the shelves down to make him harder to reach.

Scott deliberately cut his hand on some of the shelf metal joints. He waved it around, knowing it would smell the blood and be driven into a savage frenzy.

"Here boy! Here boy!" Scott taunted.

The Hunter roared and bounded towards him...and tripped as it stepped on what looked to be an antique cannon barrel which rolled out from beneath its feet.

Scott summoned all the focus he could in its moment of imbalance to rush forward, fighting the dampening effect as the veins in his right fist glowed red as he swung for the beast's face as it tumbled forward, knocking it clean through three separate shelves and letting out a yelp like a kicked dog as it slammed into a wall and fell to the ground, stunned.

Scott had no chance to celebrate his momentary victory, for the Flame Constructs of old west bandits began firing on him as well, forcing him behind a shelf.

"Fall back!" He yelled at Storm. "She's just trying to buy time to rebuild her body!"

Storm nodded and ran returning fire the whole way as they made their path to the heavy iron door covered in runes.

"Can you destroy that barrier?!" he yelled as he hid by a long-crumbled statue of the Ghost Rider.

"Are you kidding? It took almost all my energy just getting rid of the one she had around her!" Storm complained, firing at the constructs from behind a shelf close to the door.

"I got an idea!" Scott yelled back, "Give me three shells outta that gun! It never seems to run out anyway!"

Storm did, clicking them out with each forward swing of the lever, kicking the seemingly ordinary shells to him. Scott rolled them to the door and yelled for her to get back as he fired off another thin, compacted energy beam set from his eyes at two of the three shells.

The runes exploded in a shower of white sparks that went everywhere, and the iron door clattered open, the pair rushing in without hesitating as they beheld the scene inside.

The skeleton of a man in the Ghost Rider's costume lay in one corner of the blank mostly empty cell, save for the Brain Machine from the film they had seen earlier, glowing hideously in the center, its light creating strange shadows.

Mother Righteous flickered into a weak, translucent existence, exhausted, weakened, and panicking at having bit off more than she could chew, realizing too late that even an untrained omega level was too much for her in a direct encounter.

"Wait! Don't be a fool! Mother Righteous is the only hope you have of killing Essex! Righteous will help you kill her only if you do not destroy Mother Righteous!" Righteous pleaded.

"Sorry," Scott snorted, watching Storm raise the Shotgun one handed, staring coldly at the jar.

"But you should have thought of making that last offer of yours when we first met. I can't say I would have accepted...but your terms would have been...tempting..." he finished. "Alas..."

Storm fired point blank at the Jar. And Mother Righteous screamed as her psychic image was distorted and warped before flickering out as the machine was knocked down from its raised pedestal, The brain portion of the machine clearly damaged...but amazingly, a small sensor on the side indicated there was still brain activity. It wasn't dead...

Regardless, it was in no position to do much of anything at this point.

"You gotta be kidding. After all that..." Storm muttered going up to the cannister and examining it, bending down.

"A combination of what appears to be a very tough plastic and the thickness of the gel inside seems to have blunted the blast impact. I'd say she's been effectively lobotomized...but she's so integrated into the machinery that it is keeping her alive," Storm snorted. "Lemme finish her off, Scott..."

"No," he said flatly. "This is invaluable. We can learn about Essex's thought process more in studying a damaged but functional example of her tech."

Storm glowered.

"Dunno what we could learn from this freak..." she replied but acquiesced.

Scott and Storm momentarily left the cell, just in time to spot the Hunter in Darkness climbing up a hole made by Righteous tearing parts of the ceiling down in an attempt to murder Storm.

"That thing's going to get into the Texas Countryside!" Storm whispered. "We have to find it before it hurts someone!"

"Yeah. Last thing we need are a bunch of werewolf murders popping up because of us..." Scott muttered. "But I get the feeling it's off to lick its wounds. It's gonna lay low again before it pops up to feed."

He turned to her. Her leg was still bleeding.

"You feeling woozy?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little..." she said before starting to swoon. Scott caught her.

"It's okay..." Scott said. "We'll get you some medical attention as soon as possible..."

"I'm glad you're alright, Summers..." she confessed.

"Scott," Scott replied.

Storm raised an eyebrow.

"It's Scott, Miss Munroe."

She smiled. "Scott..." she repeated.

"Nice name," she complimented.

"Thanks," he replied stoically, though he was unable to help but gaze for a second into her glowing red eyes, before whipping out his red sunglasses and putting them on.

"The entire vault will have to be secured. Every bit of evidence is vital. It may even do us some good to use this as a reserve safehouse..." Scott observed as Storm handed him back the Shotgun...

...

The Pair exited the ancient hideout, Storm carrying the damaged brain case of Mother Righteous, hastily sealed with an emergency spot weld trick with her lightning she had picked up in Cairo.

Scott held the journal of Carter Slade and what he now suspected was Slade's shotgun. They found Blob alone, though the white campfire still blazed.

"Fred? The old man, where is he?" Scott asked.

Blob crinkled his head in confusion. "The Old Man? Well, he...he..."

Blob paused.

"Actually...I don't honestly recall..." he admitted, confused, scratching his head. "Where DID he go?"

"You don't remember him getting up and leaving?" Storm questioned.

Blob shook his head, now deeply distressed that he had somehow not noticed the old man vanishing on him.

"That's weird...that's so weird..." Blob trailed off.

"It doesn't matter. I doubt we'll get any full, complete answers on who that man actually was, if indeed he WAS a man..." Scott mused. "The most we can do is get back to Hank's mansion. He must be worried sick. Probably thinks we ditched him and Charles-"

"It never even crossed my mind for a second, Cyclops, I assure you..." came the voice of Charles Xavier as a flashlight was shined on all three of them.

Scott turn, blinking as an injured, bleeding Charles Xavier with what looked to be an M79 grenade launcher slung over on one shoulder and an ammo belt of grenades that had strange, translucent forty-millimeter grenade rounds that had a faint purple light at the center of their circuitry lined interior and stepped forward, clutching his side, next to him hopped Toad and a hourglass figured yet muscular woman with a tight black leather outfit that bore her midriff with a low neckline.

"Cyke!" Toad called out.

"Professor? Mort? What are you doing here?" Scott asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow.

"Hank had a tracker on the motorcycle he lent you..." Charles answered grimly. "We were aware of the ambush because it sent a lot of warning signals as it crashed to Hank's central computer."

"We would have gone to get you, buddy, I swear, but we got hit at the mansion," Toad explained. "The Professor says we gotta get the others..."

"Someone held off the Police and Ambulance response at the ambush site as long as they could. They didn't arrive until almost an hour after the attack," Blob said.

"Well, you're in luck, because I have an answer as to who did that..." Xavier said with a frown. "It's a group called The Hellfire Club. They've kidnapped Hank."

Scott only cracked his knuckles at this revelation.

"Tell me when, tell me how, and tell me how many we need to go through," Scott replied firmly as he started heading out of the cave with the others, Xavier having no time to question what Scott was doing with an antique shotgun, or what Storm was doing with what appeared to be a floating Brain in a jar lashed with crude cybernetics.

The invisible, flying wing jet had its hatch open a dozen meters from the cave mouth in the pitch-black night, Scott rolling the bike up, and Blob carrying the Brain Jar, the Shotgun, and the Captain America Shield for them. Scott locked down the damaged bike with utility straps, and sat back in the passenger section of the jet with the others as the hatch closed and silently lifted off, heading for the mountains...

"We have to pick up the others! They're at a Morlock outpost in the less developed areas!" Xavier grunted...

"What happened after we left you?!" Scott called out from the back.

"A three-ring circus!" Xavier replied with an irritated grumble as he flew...

"I'll tell you all about it..."