"...an' Ah'm tellin' ya, Kurt. He looks jus' like if Pietro never cut his hair, or the pics the Professor had in his office of them 'n Gabrielle in Haifa." Rogue said as she summed up what happened. She didn't like using a payphone for an international, charge-bearing call, but as Kurt assured her; Brian wouldn't mind. What was a slightly ballooned phone bill among family members?

"That is very strange, meine Schwester," Kurt Wagner, the Nightcrawler, one of the greatest X-Men and current leader of the team known as Excalibur responded. Thank goodness that due to the extraordinary lives they lead meant each were extremely receptive to placidly accept mad statements like the one she just blurted out to him, before backing up and clarifying.

Her brother was so patient with her; he always allowed her the time to get her thoughts in order, to explain the situation at hand in a logical way. When she first joined the X-Men, their relationship was nebulous at best. That was until she nearly died to protect Logan and Mariko from Lady Viper. Shortly after that, he accepted her, teased her, and treated her fairly. Within a few months he was struggling with accepting his mantle as leader of the team while Storm was on sabbatical, and she remembered how they would sit up late, talking. Privately, he despaired to her of ever being a good leader. She held fast to her conviction then; he was a good leader, if he only believed in himself.

That faith was rewarded now; as leader of Excalibur, he carried on Xavier's legacy on another continent, and from what he's told her in the past, worlds. She couldn't be proud of him. And a bit confused sometimes at the places he described.

"So, what will you do next? We've received no word from the X-Men since they went to ground." Kurt queried as a young, female voice from behind him called his name. It was one with an American accent; Kitty, she must be asking him for something, as responded through a muffled receiver. "Katzchen will continue looking for, and contacting the X-Men. I am on my way." He said it so confidently, so authoritatively. "I should go, and wrap one or two things up here first, and I can start leaving within ze hour."

She hadn't told him all of it yet. He didn't know about Bastion and his crazy…well…insane ramblings. It wasn't something someone said in the middle of a diner during the start of breakfast rush. From the corner of her eye, she saw that they were being served their meal. Joseph caught her eye, and she nodded as if to urge him to begin without her. "Kurt, wait - "

Click. The phone call was terminated. Joseph rose as if to interpret her look to mean she wanted him to come over. There was no need for that, especially now. With a sigh, she hung the receiver up and went over to the table with a spritely step that spoke business. It would discourage folks, hopefully keeping her from touching anyone by accident. She rubbed her hands as if the joints hurt them, keeping them close to her body without making it too obvious she was doing this for their protection.

Taking her seat in the booth cabinet across from him, Rogue observed how sparingly he buttered his pancakes. What a shame. It was one of the greatest excuses in life, to butter a pancake up to make it more a conveyance of fatty goodness than itself. And of course the syrup, one mustn't forget to be liberal with that sweet nectar.

Applying herself to her meal - she was starving - she figured they could wait for a better plan until their stomachs were satisfied. They had time. Surely they did.

And decisions could be made more confidently over a second cup of coffee.

Bastion was thinking back, reminiscing about how she felt, as he moved along in a train pushing 150 miles per hour away from the nation's capital. Yes, that satiny skin and firm muscle, flexing under him as exhaustion drained her of vitality, but never spirit. Not that. His focus was on the small jewel on a square piece of black velvet, the dim pulse undeniably growing stronger as minutes stretched on. He was getting closer.

As he accepted a cup of espresso from the train attendant - first class options were always a delightful little ceremony, but when you were whisked along in a private locomotive built on the Japanese Bullet Train design? Well, one was sitting with the elite of the world.

Bastion was among the elite. Better; he was among the Chosen. The ones who created the world in their image, named the beasts of the earth, the plants, the denizens of sea and air. Yes, his work in this nation's capital had borne a most excellent fruit. Thanks to his words, his tiny lies in large truths, and his highly edited footage, he would have yet another step advanced forward to his ends. In Congress Operation: Zero Tolerance would be called upon in the morning; by the end of the month, it would be voted into law, effective immediately. He had the time to track her down, just as he needed.

He took a moment, as the train whisked him along like a chill north wind, to fantasize. It was one of the things he attributed to her, his Anna-Marie, this new ability of his. He had never been able to do this before.

It was a little like using past events to forecast future patterns. Except this involved some interior…ocular vision. He could see a thing that didn't exist within his kind. It was thrilling!

Yes, in his mind's eye, he imagined them, once again together. His doting Anna-Marie, clinging to him, that warm flesh, the flesh she shared with him, pressed tight to his. He could imagine taking her, connecting finally in the union they had danced around, the two of them only hours ago. Yes, that should've been when she experienced her transformation to her most perfect form. His Eve, to fill the earth with their progeny.

Sinking into her slick warmth…he had done so with fingers and hands only so far, he had longed at the moment to take her then. But, no. He had wanted that moment to occur when she joined him after her procedure. She needed to be fashioned from him, in his image.

Swirled in a bed a glorious blood red silk that set her peaches and cream complexion off, especially when she blushed as he stroked her hip, possessively cupping a breast, then sliding his hand against her to toy with her, make her shiver and beg against him.

Time passed in his fantasy, progressing to a new scene. Her naked body would flex and tremble as he'd tease her to wakefulness. She'd be adorable, a willing participant, and they'd play their parts well. He would tease her into a frenzy, and deny her any pleasure until she begged just right, just so pleasingly…

He sighed in irritation. As delightful this new ability was, it also had…drawbacks. He needed to find her, he'd need to refine the spell; he wanted to find her of course. Bastion would use the spell again, it worked out very well. He found her and her little pet almost immediately. If only he had known, he would have brought more supplies than what he hastily assembled.

Denied what he really wanted, he remained seated to avoid any overt signs of how she affected him, even in thought. To swallow back any lingering signs of external emotion, he sipped his espresso. This was him being resourceful, and he mentally complimented himself at his ability to adapt.

The caffeine seemed to deliver unto him a sudden burst of inspiration. He realized that he might be able to use this new skill in magic to build his own spells. After all, Bastion wrote his own code. He would rewrite this world. Why couldn't he write spells as well?

"So…you found an X-Man, what do you plan t'do next?" Rogue asked as she stabbed a mushroom from the omelette they shared. Each had their own short stack of pancakes, hers slathered with enough butter and syrup to make anyone feel tempted. Joseph had refrained from such gusto, but now he almost wished he hadn't.

The garden omelette was enormous, and taking her advice, they had opted to split it. Apparently aware of life at diners, he let her take the lead, and thus they were enjoying a meal, looking completely like everyone else around them in the early morning rush. Their waitress was polite, barely looked at them, and came by to only top off their coffee mugs. They could sit there for hours, perhaps…

But they really ought to move.

Despite her unlocking that memory, he recalled little else, save that all he loved were dead, his home, gone. He didn't know what to make of such a loss, and truth be told, it seemed she didn't either. After they had decided ultimately that little else could be done for the night and rested until first light.

Now, showered, refreshed, and refueling, he was asked his plan. And he…had none.

"Now that I know this world is not my own…" he paused and took another breath. "There are X-Men here. I suppose, once we resolve anything else that must be…concluded here, then we can find wherever they are now. I told you that they are no longer in Westchester, correct?" he asked, barely waiting for her nod as he cut off another piece of his pancakes. They were so sweet already; he was surprised at how much syrup she included on hers.

Both fell into silence as they continued their meal.

Eventually, hunger was satiated enough to allow other thoughts to break through. "Alright." Rogue said, as she nursed her third coffee. Three sugars each, and she was feeling more than revved up. "We're gonna hafta lie low. My brother Kurt?" she broke off as he nodded a bit, before continuing. "Yeah, he's gonna make his way here, so we can't go runnin' off yet."

"But what about the-" Joseph broke off as her eyes flashed behind him, silencing his question. Or at least deterring it. "How will we get in contact with everyone?"

Rogue nodded. She was skilled, trained by so many, and again by those who were imprinted inside her mind, inside her soul, that were willing to share what they could. It always made her grateful, the ones who helped her. Thanks to them it allowed her to be tough, fierce, and able to adapt quickly. She was able to do what she needed to do to keep her friends, her family…her loved ones, safe. "Got friends puttin' out feelers f'r us. They've been told that we've got an issue, so once they're contacted we'll -"

She broke off as the man known as Joseph grabbed her hand - she yelped in shock, and then it was strangled immediately when she realized her powers weren't working. No. It wasn't her doing, it must be his!

Despite this potential ground-breaking revelation, he seemed preoccupied by something else entirely. His head was turned away, looking towards the window, where suddenly a…thing? A thing the size of a beachball quickly became bigger until large shadow loomed over the entire diner. Conversation stopped, and a heartbeat later an enormous fist took out the back area of the restaurant. Screams filled the air and suddenly, a sound Rogue knew too well - from too many experiences of her own, much less those within her - hammered over the din.

HALT MUTANTS

Rogue's heart thudded dully as someone slid down the wrist of the enormous Sentinel that crashed into the building. They did it so casually, nonchalantly, that it set her to frankly staring at the absurdity. Then, anger rose in her. Or at the least, the first emotion she felt that she was willing to admit to. She took off like a shot, never hearing if Joseph called out to her as she landed a punch that was like the sound of a gunshot across a lake at dawn.

Rogue was focused on her 'brother', and getting him as far from everyone as possible. Partially to clean his clock like it never has been before. And partially…no. No she wasn't ashamed; she was furious, and in the right. She was going to show him what she was made of.

She was going to clean his clock.

Bastian was laughing as she followed the punch up with another, this time a haymaker. He cocked his head calmly back into a central position as he managed to use one hand to slide to a stop, well beyond the parking lot. On the other side of the road.

"Anna-Marie!" he bellowed happily as he twisted to avoid her next thrust, clasping at her clothed forearm, to throw her further from him. "I had almost worried it was a hoax, a trick, but how-" he broke off as another titanic punch landed before he could toss her aside. Yes, the punch was thrown with enough force to make the sound similar to ice cracking in a frozen pond. Off center but hard enough to send him to the ground.

Still smiling, still grinning, he rocketed to his feet, landing his own punch that caused her to stagger back. Rogue shook her head to clear it, before she moved aside from his follow up, shrugging most of the blow off with one arm. "You don't get to call me that!" she half-snarled, half-bellowed. There was a strange buzzing in her fingers, a…weakness?...a weakness she refused to acknowledge as she let her body take over and follow all the skills Logan and Raven in particular drilled into her.

She fought, keeping her elbows close, and her feet light, ready to start using her abilities to fly if need be. She was determined to ring his bell hard enough for his grandpappy to feel it. She was surprised that he could survive the level of the punches she landed on him, he shrugged them off, and returned them, with equal intensity and vigor.

"And whyever not?" he asked lightly, as if this were a conversation during a light jog rather than a fight in a marshy, cold wood. "It is your name, your true name."

He nimbly dodged the jab she made with her right, but it was a feint. Her left cracked into his face hard enough to dislodge a normal human's jaw. It didn't slow him down a mite. His demonic eyes flashed between their human hazel and bionic pink-white as they swiveled unnervingly back to her, before his face did.

"Listen up, brother," she rallied as she grabbed him with that left hand to deliver a series of sharp jabs with her opposite hard enough to snap his head back with each hit. Hard enough to get his attention. "Ah'm Rogue, an' Ah'm in charge of me." Her choices were deliberately said, threaded with emotion and from the depths of her heart and soul. She reared her fist back for an enormous belt -

- and his stiff boot hit her in the stomach hard enough to send her careening backwards. She recovered swiftly, and used the second tree she slammed into to crouch horizontally on the trunk, staring him down angrily, ready to jump or fly aside.

He stood up, his face reassuring its original shape, perhaps it was some sort of superpowered, or maybe nanintes, or perhaps magic? Rogue didn't know or really care. All she knew was that he was pulling himself back together right before her eyes.

She was going to have to hit him harder, if she wanted the lesson to sink into his admittedly thick skull. She gritted her fist, ready to launch herself at him -

- And then the disassembled pieces of the Sentinel that landed on the diner slammed into Bastion, knocking him off his feet and barreling through the woods with enough force to rip the earth and trees up by their roots in a maelstrom of destruction.

Joseph floated high in the air above her, with a crackling aura of fluorescent white light. But even at a distance, she could see his expression. Within his blue eyes, he held chilly ice she knew all too well. His face was set in hard, angry lines. Swiftly, she flew up to meet him, and without another moment wasted, they streaked away deep into the night. This time, she decided not to wait until they landed.

"How'd you know that'd slow him down?" She called out over the rushing wind.

Joseph's expression had calmed some once she joined him. Now, he turned his head as they flew along and gave her a quizzical look in return. "Frankly, my intent was to kill him."

Rogue winced internally, he was very much Magneto in that regard, but rallied with mirth, her usual, first defense. "Hate t'tell ya, but Ah don't think it did the job."

Joseph nodded seriously. "I will aim better next time."