X3: The Ace Of Spades

Disclaimer: X-men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So please don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway. ;)
A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for the great reviews last chapter, glad you liked SHIELD. Sorry for the wait on this one, again, but school’s almost out for me. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love this one – plenty of sweet moments with two of our couples, and some more character development. But as well, a big event that will influence the team for a long time to come. What is it? Read and find out. :P

Chapter 28: Proving

Logan was the last one out of the car, and shut the door, allowing the driver to pull around in the driveway and gun the engine away from the Institute.

“Well… Dat was fun,” Remy said, fingering the large metal briefcase Agent Carter had handed him before they’d left the Helicarrier.

Inside, was a ruggedized laptop with a secure satellite uplink to the S.H.I.E.L.D. network – to be used until Fury and Carter got a tech team out to the mansion to set up something more permanent. It could only be accessed by first swiping through the RFID chips on one of their badges.

In their pockets, they each had a slim cellular phone, encrypted, and the same model Remy had seen Fury use back on Alcatraz to speak to the President. Carter told them to keep it with them at all times – they would be how S.H.I.E.L.D. kept in contact with them, and how they could get in contact with Sharon if they needed to.

“I’m not sure if ‘fun’ is th’word for it, Cajun,” Logan said. “Damn impressive and crazy, maybe.”

“Kinda excitin’ though,” Rogue said. “Probably be able to do more than we could as just th’X-Men.”

“True. Ve do not have as many limitations legally anymore,” Kurt said.

Logan shook his head. “Just can’t believe I’m workin’ for the government like this, after Stryker. Least Fury seems he hates ‘im as much as I do. You too, eh fuzzy?” he asked, looking at Kurt.

Kurt’s face broke into a slight grin. “Ja. Und if you call me ‘fuzzy’, again, I vill haff to call you the ‘fluffy Volverine’, eh?”

Logan’s jaw dropped, and he stopped in his tracks. “That – that was actually a good one, elf.” He said with a laugh. “You’re not too bad.”

“Logan is a little fluffy, don’t yah think, Remy?” Rogue said teasingly as they neared the front door.

Whatever else she’d been planning to say was cut off by Sarah, who flew out of the doorway and practically tackled her with a hug, and then moved on to Remy who had been standing behind Rogue.

“Whoa, careful, petite,” Remy said, holding the metal briefcase to the side as she hugged him tightly.

Logan reached out and took the case for him. “I’ll take this down to th’war room,” he said.

Remy nodded, and used his free hand to pull himself slightly away from Sarah. “Tol’ you we’d be back in time,” he said.

Sarah pouted. “It’s already almost four o’clock, though. You hafta hurry an’ get changed. Dani an’ Lorna are probably already down at the stables.”

“Alrigh’, I’ll hurry,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “You run on down an’ start getting’ de saddles an’ bridles out for us, hein?”

“Alright,” Sarah said eagerly.

He patted her head before she raced off back into the mansion, toward the back door. He exchanged a grin with Rogue. “Well, guess we should get changed den.”

He glanced at Kurt who was watching them with a slight smile. “You wanna go ridin’, mon ami?”

Kurt shook his head. “Nein, you go on und haff fun. Animals do not agree with me. I think it is the tail,” he said, gesturing at his tail whish swished back and forth behind him as he talked. “I vould just spook your horses. Thank you, though.”

“No problem, Kurt. See you at supper den?”

“Ja.”

***

Remy tapped his fingers on the saddle that hung on its rack. Dani, Rogue, Sarah, and himself had already saddled their horses, and he was considering if he should saddle another for Lorna, who Sarah had said might come.

“Hey guys,” Lorna’s voice came from the doorway.

Rogue smiled. “Hey Lorna, Ah was wonderin’ if yah were comin’,” she said, turning to look at the green-haired girl. Sarah had obviously warned her to wear something comfortable, as she had dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blouse.

She had her hands in her back pockets, and she looked around the stable nervously. “Soooo…. I’ve never done this before, so please don’t laugh at me if I fall off a few hundred times or something….”

Rogue grinned. “Don’t worry ‘bout that – ev’ryone falls. We’ll help yah along.”

Sarah nodded. “I fell off a bunch of times when I started ridin’ without anyone holdin’ onto the horse. But it’s still fun!”

Remy picked up the saddle. “Alrigh’, Lorna, we’re gonna put you on Brightwind here,” he said, moving over to rub the nose of a golden-brown colored horse, before leading her out of her stall.

He began saddling her up, as Lorna moved closer, and held out her hand for the horse to sniff. “One of us will either be ridin’ right next to you or nearby,” he said, nodding at Rogue and Dani. “Just, ‘long as you don’ get too nervous, you should be fine. Dey can sense when you’re scared of dem.”

Lorna nodded, and then smiled at the four of them. “Thanks - for inviting me, I mean.”

Rogue shook her head, and moved over to help Remy finish preparing Brightwind. “S’no problem, Lorna. You’re our friend, an Ah think you’ll like it”

Rogue secured the reigns in her hand. “Alrigh’, now just climb on – one foot in that stirrup, an’ use that t’help yah swing your leg over.”

Lorna unsteadily made her way onto the back of the horse, and sighed with relief when she balanced on the saddle.

“Alrigh’, Remy’ll show yah th’basics – Ah’ll lead Sarah outta th’stables.”

Remy smiled, and hopped onto his own horse with ease, moving up alongside Lorna. “So – y’take de reigns, an’ hold dem like dis….”

*****************************************************************

“I take it things went well, Logan?” Xavier asked Logan as he returned from placing the S.H.I.E.L.D. laptop in the War Room.

Logan nodded. “Yeah. We decide to join,” he said, slipping the S.H.I.E.L.D. badge out of his pocket and flipping it open. “Got a laptop right now to access their network. I’ll have to take a look later to see what they’ve got on the Purifiers.”

Charles smiled. “I’d figured you four would take the offer. I hope we can do a lot more now, both through this information for the X-Men, and whatever Nick has you do.”

Charles shook his head. “Nick already set up that bank account I’d mentioned to you. Five million dollars.”

Logan whistled. “Shit. We could build a new mansion with that.”

Charles chuckled at that. “I know. He insisted it was to keep us satisfied with being part of S.H.I.E.L.D. It will more than pay for the security system once Remy gets it going, and for the renovations, and still have more than half left over.”

“Got any ideas for the rest?”

“Other than improving the team’s equipment and setting up further expansions for the year after next, no. And Nick said we’d be getting it every year…” Charles frowned. “I’ll be giving this quite a bit of thought.”

Logan patted him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that,” he said with a grin.

He laughed. “Thank you, Logan,” he said dryly, before changing the subject “Are you still planning to lead that Danger Room session later this week?”

Logan nodded. “Thursday. I’m tweaking the routines a bit since it will be all of us,” he said, referring to the trainee X-men like Dani. “Show you what I’ve got when I’m done, let you add to it, alright?”

Xavier nodded, satisfied. “Alright, Logan. Get it to me whenever you’re finished.”

***

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” Ororo said softly.

Logan glanced over at her from where he sat on the bench, staring into the forest surrounding the Mansion grounds. “Hey,” he said, smiling slightly.

“Join me?” He asked, gesturing to the seat next to him.

Ororo moved to his side, sitting on the bench and leaning back, bringing her knees up to her chest and moving her arms around her legs, sighing softly when he put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

He glanced at her in momentary surprise. “What d’you mean?”

Ororo rolled her eyes at his attempt to play dumb. “You’ve been quiet since you got back from that meeting with Fury. Distant.”

He smiled slightly. “It’s nothin’ really. Just been doin’ a lot of thinkin’. Girl that’s gonna be on the team, her name’s Neena – I know her. She was like ten when I last saw her, now she’s all grown up – some sorta mercenary. We were pretty close way back then – I think Rogue reminded me of her, an’ that’s part of the reason we bonded.”

He shook his head. “When I saw her I couldn’t believe I hadn’t bothered to check up on her for fourteen years. Just got me thinkin’ about the people I haven’t talked to for a long time.” He sighed. “And then got me wonderin’ how many people I left behind that I can’t remember. If there are other Neenas out there that I abandoned without knowing it when I lost my memory.”

Ororo settled her hand on top of his, and grasped it comfortingly. “Probably. You can be gruff, and sometimes you’re simply impossible,” Ororo said with a teasing smile.

“But you have a big heart, so I don’t doubt you knew and loved people before Stryker did his experiments… But you aren’t to blame. It’s not your fault you lost your memory, and you’re not going to do yourself – or them – any good lingering over, wondering about something you can’t remember.”

Logan nodded, and moved his gaze from staring into the forest, to resting on her face. “Guess you’re right. Got more than enough to worry about in the now. Neena, Rogue, you…” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss her lightly.

He rested his forehead on hers for several long moments. “I was wonderin’. You maybe wanna… go someplace sometime? Grab somethin’ to eat?” He asked, somewhat awkwardly.

Ororo laughed. “If that was your attempt to ask me out on a date, the answer is yes.”

Logan nodded. “It was, sorry, guess I’m a little rusty. I’ll… figure out a place, and let you know?”

Ororo grinned, and kissed his cheek. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it. Now, Hank said he’d be preparing tonight’s dinner for everyone, and if I know him it’ll be delicious. You gonna come with me or stay here a while?”

Logan stood with her, their hands still gripping one another’s. “Let’s see what the furball cooked up,” he said with a grin.

*****************************************************************

Rogue changed into her ‘workout clothes’ – taking Remy’s advice on what to wear – and made her way downstairs. They’d ridden for hours on Saturday, until the sun had begun to go down.

Despite her initial wariness, Lorna had taken well to riding, and toward the end, Remy, Dani and herself had let her ride without them hovering nearby. Rogue grinned when she remembered dinner that night – it seemed Lorna had started a friendship with Warren, and they’d cooked dinner and eaten together at a table in the corner of the kitchen.

She thought it was cute, and it had seemed like they might have a bit of chemistry together from what she’d seen. At the very least Lorna had more than just her four horse-riding companions as friends in the mansion.

The rest of the weekend had been relatively slow – given its rather surprise-filled beginning – finishing up homework, and just relaxing on the couch next to Remy and Sarah in front of the television.

Rogue walked into the exercise room, and the lights were already on, the room well lit. Remy was holding one of the several barbells in the exercise room, and a large twenty-five kilo weight hung on each end. The length of the barbell was rested across his shoulders, and she heard him exhale as he lowered himself into a set of deep squats.

Rogue couldn’t help but to stare at him, his usual pants, shirt, and often-present trenchcoat had been traded in for a pair of jogging shorts and a thin white tank-top. The tattoo of the Ace of Spades card encircled by fire stood out on his right bicep due to the sheen of sweat on his skin.

She blinked when she realized that at some point he had noticed her, placed the barbell back up on its rack and turned to her, saying something. She shook her head. “Sorry, what?”

Remy grinned – much too smugly in her opinion – and repeated himself. “I asked if y’were ready. But you look a bit too distracted.”

She glared at his ribbing. “Yeah, Ah’m ready. But why’d we come here ‘stead of th’Danger Room?”

“Well, you did great last time, an’ we can do a bit of review at de end, but dis session I mainly jus’ wanted t’see if we can get an idea of how strong you are...” Remy said.

Rogue bit her lip, and nodded. “Alright.”

Remy turned back to the barbell he’d set aside, removed the pins, and slid on two more twenty-five kilo disks. Rogue’s eyes widened slightly as he grunted and pulled it off of the rack – it was easily over two hundred pounds now.

She hesitated when he brought the barbell over to her, her hands twitching slightly at the idea of trying to lift that. Then she took a breath, realizing that her mind was still wired for her old strength, and knew she’d easily be able to lift it.

She grabbed it from him, and lifted it, doing a standing press, bringing it up to her chest and back down, and stared at it in amazement: it felt as light as a one of the one kilogram dumbbells sitting along the wall had once felt to her.

She glanced up at Remy and shook her head. “It’s really weird. Doesn’ feel like it weighs anything, but when I carry normal things like mah books, they don’t feel any differen’.”

Remy nodded thoughtfully. “Figured dat might be de case. De powers you got from Carol are probably all mental – your mind adjusts t’diffren’ circumstances an’ tell’s y’powers what to do. Dat makes me wonder jus’ what you can actually lift.”

Within a few minutes, she’d worked up to four twenty-five kilo plates on each end, and only then started to feel a bit of an increase in the weight. Then Remy grabbed the other barbell, and loaded it up similarly, and she awkwardly held both of them, one resting in the crooks of her elbows and the other in her hands, and she felt the sensation of weight increase noticeably but not enormously.

She shook her head, shifting them so one dangled from each hand, reveling in the fact that she was holding nearly 900 pounds of weight and that it only felt like holding a thirty pound weight.

She smiled sheepishly at Remy. “Ah don’ think we can get much more weight with what we have, but… Ah think Ah could probably do several more of these, at th’very least double this,” she said quietly, slowly curling each hand upward and back down with the barbells.

Remy chuckled. “So, ‘least a ton, probably more.”

“We’ll hafta figure something out next time to see – Ah’d like t’know what mah limits are.”

Remy nodded, letting her get in several dozen repetitions with each barbell. “Maybe Fury’s got somethin’. He did say dey used t’have dat heavy-hitter guy on de team.”

“Good idea,” she said as she finally relinquished the barbells to him, letting him take them one at a time and remove the plates, putting them back in their rightful place.

“Y’know, most guys couldn’ stand their girls bein’ stronger den dem, an’ I’d probably feel the same if y’looked like some sorta bodybuilder with bulgin’ muscles, but you,” Remy said, running his eyes over her hungrily before kissing her lightly on the nose. “are jus’ damn hot.”

A flush darkened her cheeks, darker than the color that had developed from her exertions, and she leaned against him, inviting another kiss. “Ah sure hope yah aren’t givin’ the same treatment to the others,” she said teasingly.

He grinned, and slowly maneuvered them so her back was resting against the wall. He leaned closely against her, and kissed her deeply. “Non, you’re my fav’rite student so you get de special treatment,” he murmured.

“Good,” she whispered, the color of her eyes seeming to darken with pleasure as she wrapped her arms around behind his back and pulled him even closer, sighing at the feeling of his warm body pressing against hers.

“’Sides, Pete’s m’next fav’rite student an’ he just ain’ my type,” Remy said.

Rogue giggled, and surprised him with a swat to his ass – easy reach given where her hands were behind him.

“Oh, dat’s how we’re playin’ it, my feisty Chére? You like it a bit rough den?” He whispered in her ear.

“Sure – jus’ remember yah just got done tellin’ me Ah’m stronger’n you.” Rogue said with a teasing grin.

Remy chuckled, and rested his forehead against the wall next to her head, his ear tingling slightly when it touched the side of her face.

Rogue moved one of her arms, brushing her palm up his chest and to his cheek. “Ah know you, Remy – tryin’ t’get mah mind off what Fury said…”

Remy sighed. “Y’too damn smart,” he said.

She used her hand to pull his head back so she could look into his eyes. “Why didn’ yah tell me when yah mentioned blowin’ up the theater?”

Remy chuckled bitterly. “I was just gettin’ to know you, Chére. What should I have said – ‘yknow, I lost control of m’powers before, too, blew up a bunch of kids an’ their parents while they were enjoyin’ a play – oh, an’ den I led a bunch of murderin’ bastards to kill mutants in de tunnels in New York’? Not ‘zactly the way to make a good impression on a femme you’re intr’ested in.”

Rogue smiled at him sadly. “Oh, Remy,” she said, kissing his forehead. “Ah guess y’have a point. Ah jus’… Ah hate it when you’re hurtin’ like this. Ah wish Ah could take away th’guilt yah feel. But Ah guess that’s what makes yah mah Remy.”

Remy nodded weakly. “It’ll take a while, but ‘ventually you’ll learn everythin’ in m’past dat’s made me tick. Dis… It doesn’ affect me as much anymore. I’ve accepted it, an’ dat it wasn’ my fault. An’ you’ve been helpin’ wit’ de Tunnels…” He glanced away.

She moved her hand up to run it through his hair. “Ah’m glad Ah’ve been helpin’ yah. An’ if yah need to talk ‘bout anythin’ – even the stuff yah haven’ told me ‘bout yet… Ah’ll be here t’listen.”

“I know y’will, ma Cherie,” Remy said, before driving her to distraction by kissing slowly along her neck from her earlobe to her throat.

*****************************************************************

“The Church of Humanity has been making headlines the past few days with the congregation of the Houston branch of the church coming out to boycott the funerals of several mutants killed in a recent attack on a Cure center.”

“The move has engendered both outrage and support by many people across the nation. The group marched around the small church and cemetery during the funeral services and the burials – according to the families of those slain, chanting loud enough to be heard throughout the service.”

“An attempt to block in the procession of cars carrying the caskets from the church to the cemetery was broken up by the police escort, but the protestors were quick to follow, and picket outside the cemetery fences.”

“The families, and many throughout the nation have been angered by what they call a blatant disrespect for the dead, and accuse the congregation of ‘utter bigotry’, to quote the father of one of the victims. Some of the signs being used were too crude to show on our broadcast, but here is a sampling of some of the ‘tamer’ ones.”

Images of signs saying ‘Mutants burn in hell’, and ‘God hates muties’, as well as ‘Muties don’t deserve graves’, flashed across the television screen, and Rogue turned it off in disgust. ‘Some people,’ she thought, ‘are just sick – protesting funerals?’

She tried to force their tactics from her mind, and decided to fly for a bit. She and Carol had discussed testing her powers a bit more after that session in the exercise room with Remy, and one of the things she’d done the least work with was her flight.

It was still early morning, and anyone who wasn’t in class was either asleep or inside eating breakfast. She slipped out the back door, and walked slowly toward the basketball court.

Once she’d given herself enough distance so that she was pretty sure she wouldn’t go crashing through the roof of the mansion if she lost control, she focused on the thought of ascending, and her powers slowly responded.

She opened her eyes, and found herself hovering a good ten feet above the basketball hoops. “Alright, you can do this,” she muttered to herself, and looked upward at the sky, and began to ascend.

It was… different from her test flight in the Danger Room. Being outside, it felt more free, not confined by the walls of a building. She rose quickly through the air, and within a minute, the Mansion had shrunk beneath her, looking more like a tiny house than the large building it was.

Suddenly a white object obscured her vision, and she jerked her head back, before realizing she’d kept rising up into a low-lying cloud. She laughed with delight, and stretched out her hand to touch it, the vapors dancing around her hand at her movement – it felt little different than running her hand through a thick fog – a bit damp, but not much more than that.

She focused, and shot upward, punching a hole through the cloud, and came out above its top. She saw a few other clouds in the distance, but the day was mostly sunny. She felt a giddiness rise up in her as she stared down at a world she usually only saw while taking off in an airplane. She could see the buildings of the town near the Mansion, and view the entire forest she’d ridden through many times on horse-back.

“This is great,” she murmured. “Yah feelin’ all this, Carol?”

She felt, rather than heard, Carol chuckle, but it was with a tinge of sadness.

“Yah alright?” She asked, wanting to enter her subconscious to see Carol face-to-face but worried she’d simply plummet to the earth if she did.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, Rogue. It’s fun, just… wishing I’d had the chance to do all this before my dad got the collar.’

Rogue’s breath caught in her throat. “Aw, damn, Ah’m sorry, Carol… But, y’know, yah ever wanna do this, Ah’ll give yah control…”

‘I know, Rogue. Maybe another time. Just enjoy yourself and take me along for the ride – that in itself is rubbing his face in it even if he doesn’t know it. ’

A sad smile creased Rogue’s features. “Alright. Ah’m gonna try flyin’ horizontally, so hang on, it could get bumpy.” She said teasingly.

She bit her lip, and then focused, and found herself jetting along sideways. She flailed slightly, until she managed to turn her body horizontally as well, and then stared downward at the quickly passing countryside.

It was a lot better than the Danger Room – no worrying about running headfirst into the walls. She had no idea how fast she was going, but as she sped thousands of feet above the highway that led toward North Salem, she was easily passing cars that had to be going sixty miles an hour. The only thing resisting her was the wind which whipped her hair around her face and slightly buffeted her around, forcing her to make slight course corrections.

She blinked when she found herself passing over the city itself, and stuttered to a stop, not wanting to get too far away from the mansion. Looking back she could just barely see Xavier’s land in the distance, and she turned, jetting back in the direction she came.

It would definitely take some getting used to, flying like this. She tended to be more a road-name person than a landmark person when she drove, and aside from no longer being able to see those road-signs, flying up this high would likely throw off even a landmark person.

‘Things look so different up here, she thought to herself. She had to be careful not to get completely lost if she flew further than this in the future.

She focused her mind on the feeling of flying, and came to an abrupt halt when she realized she had almost passed over the mansion without thinking. Another thing to get used to, she thought: the distances she could cross at the high speeds she’d been moving.

Deciding that would need a bit more practice, she chose to try her height limits instead. She darted upward, the world ever-shrinking beneath her. She rose, and kept rising, eventually slowing when it became much colder, the winds much stronger, trying to blast her to the side.

Her eyes widened, and she sent herself into a dive when she saw a passenger jet move along a half-mile away from her, just slightly above her in altitude, hoping she’d moved quickly enough that no one on board had seen her.

It was the diving, head-first, more than any other part of the flying that gave her the biggest adrenaline rush. She could feel her heart pounding as she tore through the sky, faster than any other person could plummet, and she realized for the first time why people liked skydiving.

She let out a whoop of joy, and felt Carol laughing along with her, as she pulled out of the dive once she could see the mansion clearly again.

She let herself slowly drift downward, catching her breath from the exhilaration of the dive, when she saw a flash of white below her near the lake. She let herself drop another thousand feet or so, and squinted, and she realized the white she’d seen were enormous wings flapping – apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d felt like flying this morning.

She dropped again, trying to come out level with Warren as he flew. “Morning, Warren,” she tried to greet him, but had estimated her distances poorly, and came to a tumbling stop a dozen feet below him before recovering and moving back up next to him.

Warren himself needed a moment to recover – his wings stopped flapping in surprise at the person who plummeted past him, saying his name. “Jeez, you scared the crap out of me,” Warren said as Rogue neared him and he recognized her.

Rogue chuckled. “Sorry. Still getting the hang of things – didn’t mean to spook you. Good morning for flying, I guess?”

Warren grinned. “Yeah. I like coming out about this time – the thermals are just starting to develop, and it makes it a lot easier to fly when I don’t have to flap as much.”

She eyed his wings with interest as they rhythmically moved, keeping him in place next to her, and then she caught him staring at her.

“Is mah hair a mess?” she asked, reaching up to pat at it, and finding it was indeed rather messy from being blown about.

Warren shook his head. “No, sorry, it’s not that, I was just thinking. I wonder how all these little mutant genes in our body decide what powers they’re going to give us, and how they’re going to manifest. Why, for example, did they decide to let both of us fly, and let you do it…. However you’re doing it, and give me these big wings.”

Rogue smiled, and brushed her hair back out of her face. “Ah… guess Ah never really thought of it like that. Maybe that’s somethin’ th’Professor has thought about. But, anyway, these aren’t really mah powers.”

Warren’s eyebrows rose. “They’re not?” He asked, confused.

She shook her head. “Mah genes decided to let me absorb th’memories an’ powers of anyone that touches mah skin. Ah got these powers from a girl who was… she was dyin’, and she held onto me, an’ Ah’ve had them ever since.” She shook her head. “Slowly getting’ control so Ah don’t just vamp anyone that touches me, but it’s tough.”

Warren grimaced. “I thought I had it bad with enormous wings…” He said. “Sorry-“

Rogue shook her head, and smiled. “Don’t worry – in mah opinion yah’re the one worse off – least I can blend inta the crowd without havin’ ta hide anythin’. Sure it sucks not bein’ able to touch, but at least Ah’ll be able to control it one day.”

Warren nodded. “I’ve… started to not care if people know I’m a mutant. After Alcatraz, I’m done hiding.”

Rogue smiled. “Ah think that’s probably th’best attitude ta have. If we try ta hide ourselves, live in th’shadows for the ‘normal’ people ta not be afraid, it’ll just make th’bigots out there stronger, make this mutant-hate last longer.”

“Never thought of it big-picture like that, but I guess you’re right,” he said, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Maybe…” He shook his head. “Sorry, just thinking to myself – you gave me an idea, but I want to think about it for a bit.”

Rogue laughed, and then gasped when she glanced at her watch. “Ah’ll leave yah t’think ‘bout it then – Ah’ve gotta get changed an’ get to the Professor’s office for mah ethics class. Bein’ up out here makes yah lose track of time.”

Warren nodded knowingly, and watched her move toward the ground, still marveling at her ability to fly without wings. He chuckled slightly when she skidded to a halt on the lawn, digging a twelve-foot long divot in the sod with her feet – it seemed she really was still getting used to flying – he’d had more than his fair share of hard landings since he’d started flying at the Mansion.

The idea he’d had, that sprung into his mind at Rogue’s comments, came back to him again. Perhaps Xavier would be a good person to talk to first before he tried anything. And then there would be the matter of talking to his father again, and hoping that the events at Alcatraz had at least opened his mind a bit. But if it worked…

Angel shook his head, and swept his wings outward, soaring higher. It could wait until later, especially since Xavier would be teaching minutes from now. Right now, it was just himself, the wind, and his thoughts.

*****************************************************************

The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, DARPA, has existed for decades – since the launching of Sputnik by the USSR. It was established as part of the Department of Defense, and tasked with the responsibility of developing new and unique technologies for the military.

They were responsible for much of space technology for several years before NASA was created to take over civilian development and technologies, which allowed them to focus on solely military technologies, like ballistic missile defense systems.

One of their early projects, when they were under the name of Advanced Research Projects Agency, was known as ARPANET. This project was designed to connect computer systems and data in various military installations throughout the US. Eventually the concept was built upon to become the Internet of today.

DARPA led the charge into advancing artificial intelligence, as well as weapons systems and was responsible for the creation of the widely used Predator Unmanned Aerial Vehicles for the military.

The offices of DARPA sat in an unassuming black-windowed office building in the Virginia Square neighborhood in Arlington. On the outside, it would appear no different than any of the other office buildings in the area, but that building is where some of the most advanced work in the world is done by a number of teams of engineers and scientists. The main goal was to produce visible advances in the technology, and get at least to prototype stage before finishing the project and handing it off to another agency to handle the production.

However, systems developed needed to be tested, especially in the case of the larger ones – to ensure the prototypes were working. This “proving” process did not occur on-site due to the nature of the urban setting of the main offices, but rather at various DOD military bases across the country.

That was what brought Four-Star General, and member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, George Tatum, and a number of other military officials to Yuma, Arizona.

Yuma was a small town, established in the 1800’s as a military fort, which grew from there. It rested near the borders of California and Mexico, and set at the very edge of the expansive Sonoran Desert.

Thirty miles to the northeast, in the desert, rested the US Army’s Yuma Proving Grounds – one of the largest military installations in the world, and the largest testing area of its kind. Within its boundaries, virtually every ground weapons system, and many air systems, as well as parachute designs have been tested for decades.

General Tatum shifted in his seat along one side of the C-130 transport he and his assistants had been taken in on, as the landing gear of the transport whined and locked into place. He passed a hand over his close-cropped rapidly whitening hair, and glanced out the window. Outside, the hills and nearby mountains were desolate, with little more than shrubs and brown grasses covering the brown soil of the desert.

The engines of the aging aircraft groaned for a moment as they lined it up with the runway, and then the noised died down until the wheels hit the pavement, the engines then spooling up to provide reverse thrust to slow it down and bring them to a stop near one of the larger buildings of the installation.

General Tatum released his harnesses, and stood while adjusting his uniform which had become wrinkled during the long flight. He then turned with his aides toward the exit, walking down the long set of steps that had been maneuvered up next to the exit on the side of the plane.

At the bottom, he was met by a man in his early forties, Lee Worth, who was basically the head of the project he was there to view. Lee had been barred from military service due to his severe asthma, and had settled for going to college as he’d planned, and later joining military design teams, one of which was now part of DARPA.

“Lee, good to see you. It’s damn hot out here, could we get inside?” Tatum asked, squinting against the glaring sun, already feeling beads of sweat on the nape of his neck.

“Yes sir, this way. Lucky you came today – this is one of the cool days here. Tomorrow we’re getting up to 100 degrees. During the summer I hear they can break 120.”

Tatum sighed with relief as they entered the cool air of the hangar. “Well, I know where I won’t be moving to when I retire,” he said with a small laugh. “Do we have far to go?”

Lee shook his head. “No, maybe five miles in the jeeps,” he said, nodding to several nondescript military jeeps. “After that we’ll be in an air-conditioned trailer.”

“Alright, let’s get the ride over with.”

***

Minutes later, Tatum, Lee, and a number of the other passengers of the plane were bouncing across a dirt road between the hangars of the main airstrip on the base to one of the adjoining testing range complexes, this one called the Cibola Range.

They drove near the outskirts of a large, mockup city complete with full-scale buildings and vehicles along the roads. This was one of two such urban terrain sites on the range, and was used for testing of combat systems.

If Tatum hadn’t known better, the city would likely have convinced him he was in Iraq or Afghanistan, the desert climate surrounding it only adding to the image already portrayed by the building designs.

They drove past the city, into a flat plain outside of it, which extended out across the horizon, and looked like it was likely used for artillery testing. Soon enough, Tatum spotted a large ‘vehicle’ resting on its wheels. It was the size of a large semi trailer, but not blocky – instead it had a rather smoothed semi-circular shape. It had a hookup on the front where it could be attached to the large semi cab that sat nearby.

The train of jeeps rumbled to a halt near the trailer, and General Tatum climbed out, followed by Lee, who waved at the dust cloud kicked up by the drive, which slowly drifted out from in front of their faces.

“’Master Mold’?” Tatum asked in an amused voice, reading the letters stenciled on the side of the trailer.

Lee smiled. “Yes, I think one of the techs came up with the name and it stuck – don’t really know what the real meaning behind it is, probably an in-joke amongst the engineers.” Lee said with a shrug. “This is our command center for the project – everything is controlled from here. On the battlefield we’d have one handling four separate squads – completely modular and easily relocateable.”

He tapped on the back door of the trailer, which someone inside opened, revealing a narrow space inside. “Thick, reactive armor takes up most of the space and protects everyone here in the core of the trailer. We’re probably better protected than most tanks out there.”

Tatum nodded. “Looks that way,” he said, running his eyes over the entrance, before stepping in behind Lee. His aides and the other personnel followed him, and then the door was closed behind them.

Inside, the trailer was set up with a long line of monitors resting on desks, and several large plasma-screen televisions hanging above them, evenly spaced along the trailer. Most of the stations had technicians at them, and it looked like they were preparing for the test run.

There was room behind the technicians for people to walk past, as well as stand and look over their soldiers. He saw a number of lower ranking officials he knew or had met in the past, people from the Marine Corps, Air Force, as well as the Army, already in the trailer, and over the next minute he found himself being greeted by most of them.

He finally moved to stand near the center of the trailer with Lee, and he watched as the final preparations were made. He glanced up at the large television monitor in front of him, which he assumed would display images for the onlookers once it started.

At the moment, however, it was simply showing a blue background emblazoned with the name of the project they were there to observe: ‘SENTient Interfaceable Neurosynthetic Electronic Lifeform Program’.

Like any good government program, it had followed the unwritten rule of being made into an acronym – thus the much easier to say and more recognizable shortening as the SENTINEL Program.

“Who’re they?” Tatum asked Lee quietly, nodding to two people who were moving slowly around the stations, speaking with the technicians.

“They’re the people responsible for getting us this far – some of the best men I’ve worked with.”

He nodded to a young African American man, who was wearing a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses that gave made him look the stereotypical “nerdy” student, perhaps just out of college.

“That’s Larry Trask - one of the youngest we’ve had in the Agency, his father is Bolivar Trask,” Lee said, referencing the Secretary of Homeland Security. “That got him a bit of pull on getting on the team, but I’m glad it worked out that way. He’s the one responsible for most of the robotics work. Before he came in, we were struggling at getting prototypes that could do anything close to what we wanted.”

Lee nodded toward an older man, in his early forties, the hair near his temples graying slightly. He was one of the tallest men in the room, and his barrel-chest made him appear even larger.

“That’s Stephen Lang, he’s our main programmer. He and his team developed the Artificial Intelligence of the SENTINELs, everything that makes them go. Hell of a lot of work – he’s been on this project for seven years now. One of the best in the business.”

A bit of wind howled through the trailer as the door was opened once more to let in another spectator. Tatum nodded in greeting to Alexander Porter, the Deputy Secretary of Defense, there in the stead of the Secretary of Defense – he and Tatum would be the ones that decided if the project was worth taking off of DARPA’s hands and going full scale with it.

“Alex, how was the flight out?” He asked with a grin.

Alex shook his head. “Too damn long. Been a while since I’ve been in a Hercules. Now it just shows me how old I’m getting,” he said, reaching up to massage the back of his neck with a wince.

He squeezed past Tatum, and moved to stand in front of one of the other monitors. Lee glanced around, taking note of each person there, and then glanced to Tatum. “I think that’s everyone. Larry, Steve, we ready?”

Stephen Lang stood up from where he was hunched over a console with another technician. “Looks that way,” he said, his voice having a dry, nasally sound to it.

Larry Trask shot them a thumbs up as he pointed to the console he was looking at and murmured something to the tech, whose hands quickly flew over the keyboard.

“Alright.” Lee said, leaning forward to pick up a large sat phone. “Heron One, this is Master Mold, you are clear for takeoff and airdrop.” He said into it, and got a positive confirmation from the other end.

Lee set it down and moved back to stand next to Tatum. “That’s our transport plane – he’s taking off from our airstrip, circling, and dropping them in. We want this to simulate real conditions as much as possible.”

He nodded to the monitors, which had changed from the SENTINEL logo to a shifting view from different cameras that appeared to be placed all over the mock city they’d passed. “They’ll be dropping in there. The garrison stationed at the base here volunteered for the live run. They’ll be in the city performing various actions – some will act as friendly military units, others will act as citizens moving through the city, and a number will act as enemy combatants.”

“Live run?” Tatum asked, startled. “You’re using live rounds?”

Lee shook his head. “No, the soldiers acting as insurgents will be using rubber rounds – we don’t want to damage the SENTINELs right now – we’ve already gone through the proving runs on that and the armor holds up pretty damn well. They’re programmed to register hits as real hits, though, and they’ll shut down systems to match a hit.”

“SENTINELs themselves will be using Less-Than Lethal weapons, including rubber bullets. That was the agreement beforehand – some people are leery of turning deadly weapons over to robots. They’re quite proficient with them anyways, and their weapons systems are modular, so in the future we can hook up assault rifles rocket launchers, the works, if you can get it through Congress and all that.”

Tatum nodded. “You said the armor holds up well? How well?”

“Mortar round can do some serious damage, but anything less than that, aside from a fifty cal doesn’t do much more than cosmetic damage. It takes a serious barrage to start hurting the internals.”

Tatum glanced back at the screen where several of the soldiers, dressed as civilians, walked across the view of one of the cameras.

“Alright, let’s see how it goes. I’ll let you know now I’m pretty skeptical, so if this works as well as you say it does, I’ll be impressed. If this goes well, I think we’ll take it to full production,” Tatum said.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be impressed, sir. This is nothing like Stark’s power suits or that whole fiasco in New York. These have been worked on for years now, and we’re confident all the bugs have been worked out.” Lee said.

The control room was quiet for several minutes, aside from low chatter amongst the technicians. Then the sat phone rang, and Lee held a discussion with the person on the other end.

Lee set the phone down, and tapped a switch under the screen in front of him, and it switched to a camera view near the edge of the city, pointing outward. On the screen, a large aircraft slowly came into view, which Tatum soon recognized as a C-17 GlobemasterIII, one of the largest transport planes in the US military, capable of carrying nearly 80 tons in payload.

The C-17 circled around the city, and the rear loading/unloading ramp opened up as it flew, revealing its cavernous innards being filled with a large object.

As they watched, the object was pushed down the central track of the cargo bay and dropped from the plane, followed by another identical object – the C-17 was designed to make such airdrops, whether they be pallets of supplies from the height they were at now, or tanks and combat vehicles while skimming mere feet above the ground.

The two objects plummeted nearly a thousand feet before large parachutes deployed, snagging them to a near halt and letting them float slowly to the ground. Each one was a large pod, easily the size of two school-buses parked side by side, and looked much like the sort of landing pod one would see plummeting to the surface of Mars or another planetary body instead of the Sonoran Desert.

Explosive bolts blew off the cords of the parachutes as the pods neared the ground, and they plummeted the final ten feet as the parachutes slowly drifted away to the north, tumbling in the wind.

The pods landed, throwing up clouds of dust, and as the dust cleared, they split open, revealing their contents. A large robotic hand grasped the side of the pod, and used the grip to leverage itself up and out. It was tall, perhaps twenty-five feet in height, gleaming metal covering its humanoid frame. The metallic armor was mix of silver and purple, and covered most of its body.

Visible openings adorned its arms, likely housing its weaponry. The head looked like it had been modeled after a human or ape skull, absent the ears. The metal face-plate looked like it had been molded to make a ‘nose’ and a stylized mouth set in a permanent firm line; holes were opened above the nose for the ‘eye-sockets’, from which protruded photoreceptors that shone a deep laser-red.

All in all, the design looked similar to a metal-skeleton clad in plate armor from medieval times. But the face and head reminded Tatum somewhat eerily of the Terminator movies.

Another, identical figure rose from the second pod. Both began to take slow, lumbering steps toward the city, each moving on different routes, one on a northern road and the other on an eastern road.

“Right now they’ve been informed that insurgent activity has been reported in the last thirty minutes, and ordered to hunt down and neutralize the insurgents.” Lee said in explanation.

The cameras followed one of the SENTINELs in particular, as it walked with surprising grace through the streets, around cars and carts and ‘civilians’. Its movements very closely mimicked those of a human, but something about its gait was just slightly enough off to hint at its machine nature.

Perhaps the joints and hydraulics being unable to duplicate human joints and muscles perfectly, Tatum mused to himself.

The SENTINEL that the monitor was following, shifting from camera to camera, came to a halt in a large, open intersection, and stood there for several moments. Suddenly the metal plating of its chest and back irised open, and smaller robots, identical in design, activated and exited the compartments they were held in, dropping to the ground.

“The larger SENTINELs are basically the energy source and support vehicles for these main, smaller ones. We designed the small ones to move door to door – they’re around six feet tall, squads of four per base SENTINEL. They can operate for up to an hour on their own before they need to recharge with their base SENTINEL, which takes about fifteen minutes itself.” Lee said.

“I think we’re going to switch to what our techs are seeing, and what the SENTINELs themselves are seeing,” he said.

Moments later, the view switched to a red-tinged, ground level image that moved rhythmically, clearly the view transmitted to the trailer from one of the smaller SENTINELs.

Words flashed quickly across the screen, listing out the major decisions and ‘thought’ processes the SENTINEL was running through – something likely for the benefit of the techs rather than the machine itself.

It entered a small area that looked like it could have been a school, small wire boxes flickering across its vision, tiny labels flashing shortly after as it identified the objects in the room.

One of the boxes settled around the face of a human inside who stood up at its entrance.

:HUMAN DETECTED – ANALYZING:

The vision switched to something that looked almost like an x-ray, revealing a gun in the jacket where the man was resting his hand.

:WEAPON DETECTED – HOSTILE INTENT NOT ESTABLISHED – STANDING BY ENGAGEMENT SEQUENCE:

“The SENTINELs have several types of vision incorporated together. The primary ones are the camera-view ones we’ve been watching, and the Millimeter Wave radar images you just saw. They’re basically like those imagers you can find at airports for virtual strip searches. They send out waves that move freely through organic materials like clothing, and can give you a good image of anything they have hidden – drug bags, weapons, anything.”

“STAND DOWN.” A monotone voice came over the radio as the SENTINEL vocalized for the first time.

The man began to pull out the gun, and the frame focusing on the man’s hand flashed urgently.

:HOSTILE INTENT ESTABLISHED – ENGAGE?:

One of the technicians quickly typed out an affirmative command on his board, and as the man began to pull the trigger of the gun, the SENTINEL’s arm moved up with astonishing speed, and the dual-prongs of a Taser launched out and connected with the man’s chest.

The gun went off in a short burst as the man writhed from the electric shock, and fell to the ground.

:HOSTILE TARGET NEUTRALIZED – SUBDUING TARGET:

On the screen, the view through the robot’s eyes showed it extend its arm, a plasticuff emerging from some internal storage through a small port that opened on the SENTINEL’s arm.

It moved forward and turned the weakly resisting man on his side, and its surprisingly nimble fingers fastened the man’s arms behind his back with the plasticuffs. The fingers were, if not as nimble as a normal humans’ were, at the very least they were more mobile and dexterous than someone whose fingers were numb from cold.

The SENTINEL stood up, and finished clearing the small building before halting momentarily at the door. In the left corner of the screen, a small diagram of the SENTINEL appeared, and it seemed to be analyzing itself after the short ‘fight’.

:BDR – MINOR COSMETIC DAMAGE TO UPPER LEFT CHEST PORT – NO DAMAGE DETECTED IN SYSTEMS:

“They’re programmed to stop after any engagement and determine how much damage they sustained, so we can decide whether or not to pull them out of there. And right now it’s making contact with the others in its squad, and they’re contacting the base SENTINEL to decide the how to split their routes to search the buildings most likely to contain insurgents,” Lee said as fast paced shorthand communications ran across the screen.

The communications ceased, and the screen showed the SENTINEL begin to move again, sweeping building after building, only coming into contact with ‘civilians’.

Finally it rounded a corner on one of the streets, and stopped in its tracks as it saw a group of heavily armed men moving down the street. The wire-box targeter zoomed in on the group, identified they were wearing US military uniforms, and in one corner began to run each face through a what looked like a database of troops. It identified six, and stopped.

:DESIGNATION – FRIENDLIES – DO NOT ENGAGE:

The soldiers moved calmly past the SENTINEL, and then it continued on.

The view suddenly changed, moving to the large SENTINEL’s viewpoint. It zoomed in on a human it had spotted from where it had been directing the operations.

Like the smaller SENTINEL, its vision switched over to the millimeter radar meshed with a visual image, showing the figure holding what appeared to be an RPG launcher.

:DANGER – WEAPON DETECTED – HOSTILE PERFORMING AIMING FUNCTIONS:

As that flashed across the screen, a puff of smoke appeared behind the man holding the RPG on his shoulder, and the projectile itself jetted toward the towering SENTINEL.

:ENGAGING SELF PROTECT ROUTINE:

A port on its chest, above the compartments that had held the miniature versions of itself, opened up, and a spinning minigun appeared, bullets quickly lancing through the air toward the incoming projectile, swatting it from the air.

:HOSTILE CONFIRMED – ENGAGE?:

It took a lumbering step forward at the affirmative command, and the ‘insurgent’ turned, beginning to run. A visible line mapping out a trajectory appeared on the screen and then the SENTINEL’s arm stretched out and launched what looked like a small grenade from one of the weapon ports.

It hit directly at the man’s feet, and ‘exploded’. In reality it was more like a water balloon popping. A liquid sprayed out of the grenade, soaking the ground around the man, as well as the man himself.

As he took another step, his legs slipped out from under him as if he’d just stepped on a patch of black ice, and he slid across the patch of wet ground. As he struggled to prop himself up on his arms, they slid out from under him, seemingly unable to get a good grip, or any grip on the ground.

:HOSTILE TARGET NEUTRALIZED AND SUBDUED:

Tatum found his eyebrow rising, and he glanced at Lee.

“That’s a little something we’ve been cooking up with the Marines. It’s an anti-friction liquid. It’s made basically of water, and that gel polymer material contact lenses are made of. It lasts four to eight hours, and makes any hard surface completely frictionless. Thinking of getting it produced fully for protest and riot situations.”

“So, more than just a grenade?” Tatum asked.

“Yes sir, the main application would be through hoses. You get this sprayed on a hostile vehicle’s tires, or in the path of an insurgent convoy, and they’re not going anywhere.” Lee replied.

The screen switched back to that of one of the smaller SENTINELs, and they followed its movements through the city as it neutralized several more hostiles, using rubber bullets and tasers.

As it was nearing the end of its patrol of the city, where its searches were beginning to partially overlap with the others of both its squad and the other squad, one of the other SENTINELs flashed a message across the screen indicating contact with a sniper nest holed up in a tall building nearby.

The unit they were following turned down a nearby street, changing course to join the other SENTINEL. Several blocks further, it stopped near another sentinel, standing around a corner from the building in question.

After a short ‘conversation’ between the two SENTINELs, the base SENTINEL, and the techs in the trailer, their unit moved away from the one it had responded to, and burst from cover in a fast sprint across the street. The loud, cracking report of gunshots sounded over the feed, and they saw one shot spark off of the arm of the SENTINEL.

Their SENTINEL made it to the next building, and stood under cover behind that, turning its photoreceptors in the direction of its companion. That one had taken the distraction as an opportunity to swivel out two jet-like objects on its back. Suddenly those jets lit up with blasts of superheated air, along with similar jets on the bottom of both feet, propelling the robot into the air to land on top of the building it had been behind.

The SENTINEL strode across the roof of that building in two long strides, and bent its knees to leap in the air, the jets lighting again, guiding it up two stories to the top of the sniper building. The jets on its back seemed to provide the primary thrust, and those on its feet could be shifted around by moving the legs, to provide steering and control over the flight.

It landed gracefully on the sniper’s building, and instantly moved toward the door on the roof, battering it in. There were flashes of light from inside, and then their SENTINEL began to move, receiving no fire from the distracted men inside.

It burst through the front door, and moved across the main floor, up the stairs, catching several hostiles by surprise. A quick query on whether to engage came up, and it was approved, and the men went down quickly to two tasing devices, and several rubber bullets.

The SENTINEL moved up the next set of stairs, and found its companion finishing up, the snipers at the window lying senseless on the floor. The two SENTINELS moved quickly through the floors, binding the hostiles, and then back out onto the street.

The hour deployment was almost up, so the SENTINELs moved swiftly back to the base SENTINEL, arriving with the others, and climbing back up into the open ports designed for them, for their recharge.

Lee leaned forward, and typed out – “END OF MISSION – STAND DOWN”, and then looked up at Tatum and the other officers expectantly.

Tatum exchanged a brief glance with Alex, the Deputy Secretary of Defense, and he nodded to Tatum.

Tatum stepped forward, and shook Lee’s hand. “Congratulations, gentlemen,” he said, glancing around the trailer at the DARPA employees that had all turned to look. “I’m impressed. This tech could save countless soldiers, and help us deal with the downturn in recruits. You’ve got your funding – get a full set of ready prototypes, and I’ll start the paperwork to get this project funded full-scale by the Army.”

One of the generals from the Marine Corps nodded as well. “I’ll have to talk to my commander, but I think you can count on us requesting units as well.”

A small cheer went up amongst the techs, grinning and high-fiving all around. Once it quieted down again, Tatum cleared his throat. “I don’t know how you did it, but congratulations.”

Tatum, inclined his head, and his aides and Lee followed him out of the trailer. Outside, in the hot sun, Tatum shook Lee’s hand once more. “Your boys should be proud – these SENTINELS are going to change the world, Lee. I’ll see about getting you live weapons on them. It’ll take a lot of arm-twisting, but I think we can get it for you, at least by the end of the year.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad you saw the same potential in the project that we did.” Lee said.

Tatum nodded, and smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Lee, but I have to get going now. I’ll speak to you soon after we get the paperwork going.”

On the way out, the jeeps kicking up clouds of dust behind them, they passed the imposing, silent robots, which had been moved to the outskirts of the ‘city’. As they moved past the silent machines, which stared impassively outward with their glowing red photoreceptors, Tatum grinned to himself.

‘They really live up to their name-sake,’ he thought, staring after the SENTINELs watching and guarding the city.

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A/N: Ah, the Sentinels cometh. Hope you guys like my take on a movie-verse version of the Sentinels. They will quickly become a long-lasting problem (both for the rest of this story and for the sequel) for the X-men, starting in a chapter or two.

Now - anyone who hasn’t seen Iron Man 2 – go out this instant and watch it! :D
I went to the midnight showing, and it was simply awesome. Just as good as the first if not more so, and I’m getting more and more excited about the upcoming Thor and Captain America movies next year and the Avengers movie.

Sorry for the wait again, but I hope it was worth it. I’ve been swamped in schoolwork: all sorts of final papers, final projects, and final presentations, all on top of final exams which start this coming week! That and I’ve found a new apartment and signed my lease, and begun moving my stuff over.

After next week I’ll be flying home for my sister’s high school graduation, but after that I should be on my summer updating schedule (i.e. only a week or so between each chapter). I am seriously considering a second story (not x-men) that I’ll update intermittently when I’m stuck on this one or have writer’s block. That could be out within a week or so, possibly – if any of you are Harry Potter fans I think you’ll want to check it out – sorta my AU version of that at what I feel is a good divergence point (like this story).

Anyway, see you next chapter, not sure exactly when it will be out with my finals, but it shouldn’t be too long.