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Angel In The Attic	By : fusedtwilight Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 5328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-men, it is the property of marvel comics and in no way do i make a profit from this fic.

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
- 32
Angel in the Attic
Chapter 31
Fusedtwilight: Thanks to Lisa my beta!
They had wrapped a chain around Michael's neck so he could not fly off as they flew through the air.
Michael was fairly sure he could melt it, but he was still tired from his journey; he could not fight them all.
They had taken the dial from him and apparently were taking him to the capital city for questioning.
The idea of going to the heart of the Cheyarafim civilization filled him with both a sense of excitement, but mostly dread.
To be able to see the place where his branch of mutants first came to be was exciting for Michael, but he was worried about how they would receive him.
Hopefully they would have telepaths to confirm his story.
When they reached Ramon, Michael didn't see anything that resembled a city. In fact, the area seemed to be deserted.
"Open the gate," the leader said.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and raised his hand.
"In the name of the holy ones, open!"
The air in front of them began to shimmer and folded outward like a door opening.
Michael could suddenly hear loud noises coming from the portal.
"Let's go!"
The guard jerked on his chain and dragged Michael through. Where once there had been nothing, there was now a grand city. It was surrounded by a very high wall
The portal closed behind them and they continued to make their way forward.
The gate to the city opened and they walked in.
Michael couldn't believe he was in the capital city of the Cheyarafim. After being forced by Adonai to read all those books, and having to listen to him talk about it, he was really here.
Wait...if this was the city...does that mean he was about to meet Adonai when he was Yahweh?
Is he about to create another alternate timeline!
Time travel sucks.
"Halt! The Holy Mother approaches!" a voice yelled.
The guards stopped walking. One of them forced Michael to his knees and they bowed their heads.
Michael looked up and saw a woman with several guards flying down to meet them.
It was Asherah; Adonai's deceased wife and the mother of the Cheyarafim.
Michael had seen many pictures of her; Adonai's mansion was filled with statues and drawings of her. And Eve, the AI of the Ark, was obviously designed to look like her.
Michael could only imagine the love he felt for her. All those years and he still loved her. Michael could not understand why he would torture himself, surrounding himself with her images.
Maybe he hoped it would help fill the hole in his heart?
She landed in front of them, wearing thin white silk robes. Her wings were silver, unlike Adonai's, whose wings were like gold, they shined in the harsh sunlight. Her hair was beaded and hard blue sapphires were wrapped in them. She wore thick eyeliner and her dress had slits on the sides exposing her legs.
Then of course there were her eyes: blue with flecks of yellow in them.
"Hadi, I hear you have brought us back a surprise," Asherah said.
"Holy Mother, we found this boy in the desert." Hadi stepped forward and handed her the sundial. "We found this on him. It reeks of powerful magic. I believe he is a Neyaphem spy."
She looked at Michael with a piercing gaze.
"Well then, there is only one thing to do then. Throw him..."
"Please let it be in the lion pit," one of Michael's guards said.
"I want the snake pit!" the other murmured.
They all waited on for her to finish and speak Michael's fate.
"Throw him a feast!" she said brightly.
They all looked at her incredulously.
"Holy mother?" Hadi asked.
"Come now Hadi, does he look like a Neyaphem spy?" she asked.
"There are some of them who look a bit like us, my lady. It would not be the first time those abominations infiltrated our ranks," Hadi replied.
"True, that is why we have taken precautions. Do you forget of my power, Hadi?" she asked.
"No, I did not mean to be insulting," Hadi said.
"I can tell you all right now this boy is not a Neyaphem spy. His soul is too pure and innocent to be related to those beasts. Have the kitchen prepare us some food. He looks like he is very hungry."
Asherah walked up to Michael and took off the collar from his neck.
"There, much better. Come, allow me to give you a tour of our city. I hope you do not mind if we take the more scenic route; the city is so much more beautiful when you are in it instead of above it. By the by, what is your name, young one?"
Michael could understand their language but he knew they would not understand English, seeing how it would not be invented for another few thousand years.
He tried to recall the lessons Adonai had given him on how to speak Cheyarafim.
"I am...Michael," he said.
"Michael? Like the Archangel? You do look a bit like a warrior. In fact you look a lot like my husband."
They walked up to a chariot pulled by four white horses. They climbed on and their driver cracked the reins and several other guards followed them as they rode through the city.
As they passed the inhabitants, many of them bowed their heads, while others called out to Asherah, praising her, and some even tossed flowers at her.
She smiled lovingly at them and waved, blowing kisses to the masses as they gathered to watch her drive by.
It was obvious that she was much loved by the people. Michael could see why.
With his soul sight, he saw her soul was brilliant with love, compassion, and mercy. Seeing her people safe and happy filled her with joy.
When they reached the palace Michael could not help but marvel at it.
It had the design of several cultures, Greek, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, all mixed together.
"Wondrous isn't it? My husband has had it restructured so many times. He can be a bit over the top," Asherah said.
"Tell me about it," Michael muttered.
"Excuse me?" Asherah asked.
"I mean...it is a bit over the top. But shouldn't such a powerful empire be a bit grand?"
"True. Still, it would be nice to not have to carry a map when I explore my own home. This had been rebuilt so many times I can hardly remember what it originally looked like."
They got off the chariot and began to walk the dozens and dozens of steps.
When they finally reached the top of the stairs they were greeted by several servants.
"Layla, escort Michael to the baths and make sure he is properly bathed and clothed. He is our guest so see to it he is appropriately taken care of."
"Yes. mistress," a woman with blonde hair and ruby eyes said.
"I will see you shortly, Michael. Please, take this time to relax. We have much to discuss."
Asherah walked away with some of her advisers while Layla and a few other women led Michael to the baths.
"Do not worry sir, you are an honored guest of the Holy Mother, we will treat you very nicely," Layla said.
She made the word nicely sound naughty and the other women laughed.
Michael suddenly felt rather...vulnerable.

The baths were dozens of pools of varying sizes.
Many were occupied with people cleaning themselves or simply relaxing.
Once they were finished some of them walked out to a balcony to lie out in the sun, while others just flew off into the air as soon as they were dressed.
Michael spotted one pool filled with a group of warriors being fed fruit by some giggling women. The men were obviously flirting with the women, enjoying the attention they received.
Michael was rather uncomfortable. As they looked for an empty pool Michael was aware of two things.
One, everyone was staring at him. And two, everyone was very much naked. No one was bothered by the lack of modesty. In fact a few of the particularly good looking ones seemed to be trying to show off a little.
He saw one Cheyarafim man with a pair of wings on his head instead of on his back walking with a pair of women, his hands on their backsides.
"Here we go," Layla said leading Michael to an empty pool.
"Now, please strip off your clothes."
"Wait...umm...is there a more...private area where I could do this?" Michael asked.
"Aww, he's shy," one of the girls said and they all giggled.
"Don't worry, you don't have anything they haven't seen. Let us help you," Layla said.
"Wait, what?" Michael asked.
Before he knew it his pants and underwear were ripped from his body and he was naked in front of dozens of strangers. The girls pushed him in the pool and they began to turn some knobs on the side.
The pool began to fill with cool water and Michael could smell perfumes.
"Just relax, we will take good care of you," Layla said.
The looks they were giving him made Michael feel very nervous.

After Layla and the other servants had scrubbed every inch of Michael's body they dried him off and gave him some clothes to wear as well.
Michael was now on one of the highest towers on a balcony waiting for Asherah to arrive.
A table filled with fruits and other foods had been set up. Michael was kept company by Layla and the other servant girls who had bathed him. They kept on smiling at him and whispering to one another only to break out into a fit of giggles.
There were also guards who were there, keeping a close watch on Michael. Unlike the women, it was clear they did not like nor trust him.
They were practically daring him to make a wrong move with their gaze alone.
Asherah may believe Michael was harmless, but the guards still treated him like he was someone dangerous.
When she finally arrived Michael let out a sigh of relief.
"I apologize for the wait. I hope you have been made to feel comfortable?" Asherah asked as she sat in front of him.
"Thank you, I am very grateful for your treatment despite the fact I am a stranger," Michael said.
Michael noticed the guards behind him were now inspecting him. One guard leaned over to his comrade and whispered something in his ear. The other one nodded at whatever he said.
Asherah noticed this.
"You must be wondering why you have been receiving so many strange looks."
"I figured it's because I am an outsider."
"You are not the first one to come to us. See, sometimes our warriors have a dalliance with the human women they encounter on their way back from fighting in the war, a decade or two later the by-blows make their way to us. We take them in of course. But that is not why they are staring at you. You have an uncanny resemblance to my husband, Yahweh."
"I do?"
"Oh yes. In fact you could pass as his son. Of course no one in their right mind would believe that. Yahweh is a lot of things, but an adulterer is not one of them."
Just then there was a sound of an infant crying. One of Asherah's handmaidens carrying a small bundle began to rock the baby, trying to get him to quiet down.
"Give him here," Asherah gently said.
The handmaiden handed her the baby and Asherah took the baby into her arms. The baby instantly quieted down.
"There you go, you just wanted mother to pay attention to you, didn't you, Abreal?"
Michael almost choked on an apple he was chewing.
Abreal? The same Abreal who would grow up to destroy the Cheyarafim? The same Abreal who would rise again in the future hell bent on destroying humanity?
But he was not a genocidal nihilist. At least not yet, now he was just a baby.
"Are you okay?" Asherah asked.
"Um, yes. Sorry," Michael said wiping his mouth.
"So tell me Michael, where are you from?" Asherah asked.
"Oh...a small village."
"What is the name of this village?"
"Oh, it's very far away...near Greece, you wouldn't have heard of it."
"Try me."
"Umm...Marendecules."
Yes, as you may have figured out there was no such place.
Michael just hoped Asherah bought it.
"Wow, that is a unique name," she said.
"It's not something were proud of," Michael said.
"You know what I think?" she asked.
"What?"
"I think you are lying. You are not from around here, nor are you from this time period. You are a time traveler."
Michael was about to deny it but she raised her hand.
"I have the power to read a person's soul, Michael. I see you are trying to be honest, yet you are keeping many secrets. And there is also the fact we found this on you."
One of the guards set the dial on the table.
"This is the Sundial of time. It is an artifact with the power to take one backward or forward through time. I see it has been damaged. My guess is you were riding through the time stream when somehow it was damaged. Now you are stuck here. Am I correct?"
Realizing the futility of lying to her Michael decided to fess up.
"I can't tell you everything. Where I come from we have rules about these sorts of things."
"I understand. We have had encounters with a time traveler or two."
So Michael told her, he told her about Azazel using the dial to travel back in time to change the future. How during his trip back, Azazel had damaged the artifact.
"Damn that bastard Azazel. At least the spirits were able to help. I shudder to think of a future where the Neyaphem rule the world."
"I saw it, it was terrible," Michael said.
Asherah picked up the dial. "Hmm, I am no expert, but this doesn't look like it will work again."
"Then how will I get back home?" Michael asked.
"Not to worry. We have many wizards who specialize in mystical artifacts." She turned to one of the guards. "Bring me Mattan."
While they waited for Mattan, they went into the throne room.
It was a large and open room made of white marble.
The ceiling had a large painting of Adonai and Asherah as giants, watching over the city.
"My husband originally wanted us to be drawn naked. I put a stop to that. The only one I allow to see me naked is him and no one else," Asherah said.
They walked to a pair of thrones. One was silver, the other gold. The golden throne had a red velvet drape, with a cushion made from hyena skin on it. The silver throne had a purple velvet drape on it and a cushion made from goatskin.
Asherah sat on the silver throne, still holding baby Abreal.
"Mattan is the head of our artifact research and development. His great-great-great-great-grandfather was the one who came with the holy weapons our elite warriors use. Do you posses one, Michael?" Asherah asked.
"Yes, I do."
"My husband must think highly of you to allow you the right to such a weapon. Please, show it to me."
Michael held out his hand and summoned his spear. The servants and guards gasped. Some of them had doubted their king would allow a mere boy the right to their most sacred right.
"Magnificent. May I look at it?" she asked.
Michael nodded. A servant took the spear from Michael and brought it to Asherah to examine.
"Truly a thing of beauty. It has an elegance and grace, it speaks of a desire for peace and yet the blades show a potential for great violence if forced. I see you are a gentle soul Michael. Yet there is a part of you that is very capable of brutality. This spear is a lot like you; it's peaceful, yet willing to turn to force if necessary."
She handed the spear to the servant and he walked back to Michael and handed it to him.
"I sense this violence is strengthened by pain. Pain that only loss can bring. Did you lose someone?" she asked kindly.
Michael nodded. "My family. They were killed in front of me. I...I watched them die. Unable to stop it."
Asherah held Abreal close. "I lost my mother when I was very young. I hardly remember her. My father was killed in front of me by a witch named Selene."
"I know that story," Michael said.
"She killed him to demoralize our people. I had to watch as she sucked the life from him until he was nothing but dust. I cried so hard, she wiped the tears from my cheeks and said my pain was sweet. I would have given my soul to drive a poisoned dagger into her black heart. I still hope to meet that bitch again. Show her what I am capable of with the might of an empire behind my back!"
Abreal began to cry.
"Oh, I am sorry my sweet boy. You hate when I get angry. You are such a sensitive boy. You hate the talk of violence. I know you are going to grow up and be such a loving man."
It was taking all of Michael's willpower to bite hit tongue right now.
"I am in the mood for a spar. Come Michael, show me what you can do."
Asherah handed Abreal to one of her handmaidens and walked over to Michael.
The guards tensed and began to circle around the pair. Michael looked at them nervously.
"Fear not, they will not harm you," she said.
"I doubt that," Michael said.
Asherah waved her hand and a long silver saber appeared that glinted with a beautiful yet deadly light when the sunshine hit it.
Where Adonai's sword was a large and heavy broadsword, Asherah's sword was smaller, thin, and light, and it had a blue tassel hanging from the handle. Yet that did not make it any less deadly.
"As long as you do not harm me they will not attack," she said.
"Seeing how we are about to spar I think that might be a bit-"
Asherah suddenly shot forward at blinding speed. She moved like an ice skater and her feet shined with a white light.
Michael knew she was using angel fire to enhance her speed. Michael had seen Adonai do it many times before. Although the way she used it was more fluid.
Adonai used it to turn himself into living cannon, but Asherah was obviously more refined in her technique. Adonai was no pushover, but he overwhelmed his opponents with sheer force and brutality, showing no mercy.
So he was prepared for the sudden attack. Because, like her husband, Asherah was quick and did not waste any time.
He brought his spear up and deflected the blow. As her blade moved it sounded as if it was cutting the air itself.
"Nicely done, young one," she said with a grin.
She effortlessly spun around Michael and elbowed him on the back, sending him stumbling forward.
"Need to watch your blindside though," she said.
She rushed forward. Michael waved his hand and her feet stopped glowing and she stumbled forward as she suddenly found her skin no longer frictionless against the floor.
Michael bent down and Asherah ran into him. Michael flipped her over his back and brought his spear up to point at her face.
The guards tensed and they raised their weapons. Michael knew if he was not careful he would have over a dozen angry Cheyarafim warriors cutting him into confetti.
"So, you can control the empyreal flame. Not many are capable of doing that," she said with a grin.
The floor began to glow and Michael sensed the angel fire gathering in one point. There was a small explosion and the two of them went flying into the air as they were both sent into a pillar of light.
Asherah disappeared in a flash of light and reappeared above Michael. She brought her leg up and then slammed it down on Michael. Michael went flying back down to the ground and hit it with great force.
Asherah landed next to him, her hand on her hip and a smirk on her face.
"Well, that happened."
"Holy Mother."
A man walked in with green wings. He was very muscular and had several burn scars on his body.
"Ah Mattan, you are here."
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked looking at Michael's prone body.
"I think my spleen is ruptured," Michael croaked.
"No, just having a friendly spar," she said with a grin.
"Seriously, I can't feel my legs!"
"He'll be fine."
"Help me!"
Asherah walked over to Mattan and handed him the dial.
"Can you fix this?"
He inspected the device closely.
"Hmm, this device is old. Hard to say how old. I am sensing cronomatic energies. For all we know, this thing could come from the far future or from an alternate timeline. I don't know if I can fix it, Holy Mother. The magic in this relic is old and already fragile and the condition of the device it temperamental. I might accidentally cause a time warp that would turn the whole city to dust."
"Well we can't have that," Asherah said.
"But I have to get back to my own time!" Michael stood up.
"Well, I could develop a device that can harness the power of this item to safely transfer you back to your own period."
"Do it Mattan," Asherah said.
He bowed and left.
"Seriously, I need a healer," Michael said.

A few days later Michael was underground with Asherah as they made their way through Mattan's forge.
As they walked, Michael saw dozen's of Cheyarafim making swords and other weapons using what looked like Firmaminum.
Mattan was currently working on a device that reminded Michael of the same machine the spirits used to teleport him to the alternate reality.
"How did he come up with this?" Michael asked.
"Mattan has always had a gift for building strange and wondrous devices. It is his power, he is highly intuitive and inventive," Asherah said.
"Everything is all set, Holy Mother. This should work."
"Should?" she asked.
"Well, we can't really test this. Like I said, this magic is already unstable and once we use it, the dial will become useless. So we only have one shot," Mattan said.
"So we won't know it will work unless we use it," Asherah said.
"But what if it doesn't? What if it sends me into a different time?" Michael asked.
"That is a risk. But I am afraid this is the best we can do," Mattan said.
"Maybe we should wait a little longer. See if another course of action can be found," Asherah said.
"I am afraid time, ironically enough, is not on our side. When I say the magic is unstable, I mean either we use what we have now or it will eventually dissipate," Mattan said.
"How long?" Asherah asked.
"A few days. I recommend we do it now, else we risk losing power for the machine."
"It is your call, Michael," Asherah said.
"What about the angel fire? Can't we use it to add a boost to the machine?" Michael asked.
"I considered that. But with the crono energy being unstable, adding such a potent energy like the white flame could cause it to explode, and I think you can imagine how bad that could be."
Michael was quiet for a moment. "Let's do it."
"Are you sure?" Asherah asked.
"Yes. I visited the future once. This has to work."
"The future can change," she warned.
"No, not this future. God will send me home."
"Very well. Mattan prepare the device."
Mattan bowed. While he got the machine ready Michael turned to Asherah.
"Thank you for your help, Asherah."
"Anything to help my descendant. I wish we had more...time," she said with a grin. "I would have loved to teach you how to use your soul sight."
Michael looked at her with surprise. "How did you know I had that?"
"For those who have the sight, the true sight, the ability to see a soul in all its glory, reveals more than just a person's feelings and character. It can reveal all kinds of things. When you return to your time I want you to look into developing this ability. I am sure my husband would prefer you to focus more on blowing things up then the more subtle arts, but this gift can help you understand the world in ways you never imagined."
Michael smiled. He activated his soul sightand looked into Ashera's soul. She was so full of love and compassion, and yet there was a resolve in her. Something sharp as a blade made from all that love and compassion. Be her friend and that love and light was a blanket she would wrap around you to keep you safe and warm.
But it was also a sword she would use to protect you, or slay you if you harm the ones she loves and protects.
"Asherah...I have to tell you. You need to know-"
Asherah placed her finger to his lips.
"No, do not tell me the future, Michael."
"But-
"You saw the world Azazel made. And though you mean well, you could make a world that is a blessing for some and a curse for others. Let what will be, be."
Michael hugged her and some of the guards looked scandalized.
But Asherah hugged him back; Michael felt like he used to when his mom hugged him.
They pulled apart and she ran her thumb over his cheek.
"Take care, Michael. It fills me with pride and hope to know that no matter what path fate deals us, it will eventually lead to you," she said.
She walked back and Michael walked into the center of the machine.
"Here we go!" Mattan called.
He placed the dial in a cylinder-like compartment; it slid into a console and the machine began to activate.
There was a flash of light and Michael vanished.
"God speed Michael Bronson," Asherah said.

"I told you, one minute we are dancing and the next he just vanishes," Anna said.
"Was there anything odd about the disappearance?" Scott asked.
"Aside from the fact my boyfriend vanished into thin air?" Anna asked.
"Was there a flash of light? A smell of sulfur?"
"No, it was like he just blinked out of existence or something."
"Could it have been Adonai?" Warren asked.
"Is he capable of doing that?" Betsy asked.
"He is a teleporter but he has never shown the ability to teleport someone from a distance," Emma said.
"Michael!" Anna yelled.
She ran forward and everyone saw Michael had reappeared.
Anna jumped at him hugging him tight.
"Oh my God, what happened? And what are you wearing?"
She noticed he was no longer wearing his suit. Now he wore a white kilt and nothing else.
Michael kissed her, not a simple peck on the lips, but a full-blown passionate kiss with tongue.
Anna was rather surprised as Michael was normally very reserved.
"Michael, what's gotten into you?" she asked.
Michael hugged her.
"I missed you so much, Anna," he said.
He remembered the Anna of Azazel's world; he knew it was possible for alternate timelines to be made through time travel.
He said a silent prayer to God, hoping that horrible world died and never came to be.

"And that's what happened," Michael said.
After he returned and told the X-Men what went on, he called Adonai.
He was in the control room speaking to him using one of the computer screens.
"The spirits helped you, eh?" Adonai said.
"Yeah. If it weren't for them I would have been erased," Michael said.
"Don't be making them to be your friends; they only helped you to help themselves," Adonai said.
"I am more worried about Azazel. Where is he?" Michael asked.
"Lost in the time-stream. I wouldn't worry, without the dial he will forever be trapped there, unable to anchor himself to a time Azazel can do no more harm. Which is a shame, I wanted to skin the bastard myself," Adonai said.
"I…I am sorry I didn't tell Asherah. I wish I could have saved her; she was a wonderful woman," Michael said.
"Yes, she was. But she was right. Let what will be, be. Now if you'll excuse me, I must replace the guards Azazel killed."
The screen went black and Michael left the room.
Warren was waiting for him outside.
"Chatty as ever," Warren remarked.
"Adonai is not one for words," Michael said.
"Only when he is being a smartass," Warren said. He placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I...that world was so terrible, Warren. People I loved were either suffering or were monsters."
"That world is gone, Michael. It ended when you fixed time."
"Do...do you think Emma or one of the telepaths could removed those memories?"
"Sure. But you need to keep them, Michael."
"Why?"
"Because they will remind you no matter how bad the world is now, it could have been a lot worse," Warren said.
"You're right."
"If it gets to be too much for you then go to the telepaths. Now come on, let's get you into some proper clothes and we'll enjoy the rest of the party."
"Thanks, Warren."
"No, thank you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even exist!"

Azazel fell through time.
All around him the world was born, died, and reborn, all to start the process again.
He knew this was his fate: spending his days falling through the infinite.
He could not use his magic to save himself; in the heart of what is, and what was, and what could be, he had no power.
But if some greater power then he were able to reach out and help him, he could be saved.
Like that was going to happen.
Suddenly his surroundings stopped, everything was solid now, no longer fluid.
Azazel was now in a dimly lit room. The floor he stood on was painted with a red symbol and several candles were lit around it.
"Welcome Azazel," a voice said.
He looked up still feeling dizzy; his vision cleared and he saw Selene sitting on a Roman couch.
"Selene? What is this?" Azazel asked.
"Obviously I am saving you," she said with a smile.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"I had a dream where I was a goddess. I had wings blacker than night and I lived in a world where thousands gave their lives to feed me. I knew this was no dream but a vision of what was. I did some digging around and found out what you did, you naughty boy."
She took a bite from a green apple. "Obviously you failed."
"It was that damn min-Yahweh! The spirits saved him and he ruined everything!"
"Beaten by a child, how humiliating," Selene sneered.
"What do you want with me, Selene?! We both know you didn't do this out of the kindness of your heart. You have neither!" Azazel snapped.
"I have decided it is time for my ascension. Too long I have walked this world in a mortal form. Just as the ugly caterpillar's metamorphoses into a beautiful and radiant butterfly, so too shall I shed this form and become the god I was born to be. I want that vision; I had to become real, Azazel. So I decided to make a team of my own. One that will help me do this. Of course there will be those who stand in my way. I need to gather powerful followers to help me in my quest. I could use your help."
"I am not one for taking orders," Azazel said.
"Fine, then I can put you right back where I found you."
Azazel glared at her.
"I thought so."
"So, how are you going to do this?"
She just smiled.

Michael sat in the Ark.
He was going through the data about the Chayarafim.
"Eve."
The AI appeared next to him.
"Yes, Michael?"
"Adonai modeled you after his wife, didn't he?"
"I do believe we are very similar in many ways."I must confess I do not understand the reason."
"I only knew her for a few days. Yet, it felt like years. I miss her a lot."
"If you like I pull up all the files on Asherah. They are very extensive."
"No, that is alright...actually, do me a favor. Pull up everything we have on...souls."
"Would you like me to include the data from the mystical texts?"
"Yes. Everything. Every drop of information, no matter the source. Asherah wanted me to learn more about my ability to read souls. She said it would help me understand the world better."
"Accessing all known data on souls. Data for your connivance has been categorized by religious, theoretical, and mystical options."
"Thank you, Eve."
"My pleasure, Michael," she said.

Several days later the Champions were having lunch together in San Francisco.
Franziska, Rickard, Wayne, Angie, and Devon had moved to Utopia as did the rest of the Champions.
Michael was still living in New York, but while Warren and Betsy were on their honeymoon, Michael was staying in Utopia until they got back.
"So, any luck finding Abreal?" Angie asked Franziska.
"Just when I get a lock on him he disappears and I have to try and track him again," Franziska said.
"Maybe we should tell the X-Men what we know," Angie said.
"But if we do that we will blow our cover," Devon said.
"Our silence puts people at risk. We got back together because the X-Men had disbanded, but the X-Men are back together now."
"The X-Men can't make us stop being Champions, or make Michael give up the Ark. It's all his," Wayne said.
"You really think The X-Men are going to let a teenage mutant possess one of the most technologically advanced bases ever created?" Jacob asked.
"They can't make Michael hand it over. It's his, not theirs," Wayne said.
"They still wouldn't stand for it. They would shut us down one way or another," Rickard said.
Franziska stood up then. "Pardon me, I need to use the restroom."
She left their table and headed for the ladies room.
"But they owe Michael; he saved our asses. If it weren't for him, Azazel would have changed time," Devin said.
"The spirits helped me do that though," Michael said.
"So."
The Champions had discussed this many times before. Some felt they should tell the X-Men. Others felt they should continue to work without the X-Men's knowledge.
It was a debate they had been having for a while, but one they were going to have to put on hold.

Franziska looked at herself in the mirror.
She was making sure her makeup was still good.
When she went out she always covered her facial markings so as not to draw any attention to herself.
The door opened and a woman stepped in and walked over to the sink. She reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lipstick and began to apply it to her lips.
"Lovely day out," she commented.
"Yes, it is," Franziska agreed with a smile.
Franziska reached into her purse and pulled out her compact mirror and began to powder her face.
The funny thing about being a telepath is most people assume they all are alike.
Some telepaths can turn their power off or at least turn it down. Others can only hear thoughts and yet others can manipulate minds and read memories.
Franziska was able to ignore thoughts, but she could still get a feel for people.
So when she had a sudden sense someone meant her harm, and when the woman reached into her purse one more time, Franziska was ready.
The woman pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Franziska's head. Franziska already brought her arm up to knock it out of the woman's hand.
It slid on the floor, but the woman did not go for it. She grabbed Franziska's arm and pulled her forward sharply, kneeing her in the gut and knocking the wind from her lungs.
She went to knee her again, but Franziska brought both her forearms down and blocked. She then grabbed the gun and used all her might to slam the woman into the wall.
The woman brought up her fists and started to pummel Franziska's back.
The woman then grabbed Franziska by her shirt and threw her on the ground. The woman quickly ran over to her pistol, picked it up, and aimed it at Franziska.
"Have a nice day!" she sneered.
She fired but Franziska raised her hand and the bullet froze in midair.
"I will, you on the other hand…"
Franziska used her telepathy to invade the woman's mind and cause her to pass out.
She released the bullet and it fell to the floor.
Franziska stood up and used her power to call out to the Champions.
-Pardon me, but if you would all be so kind to join me in the ladies room, there has just been an attempt on my life.-

An hour later the Champions were gathered in the Ark.
The woman was in one of the holding cells. The Champions were looking at her through one of the monitors.
"Her name is Talia Jones. She is wanted for murder; she's a professional assassin," Eve explained.
"Why would an assassin be after Franziska? I mean, Franziska is the nicest person in the whole wide world!" Devin said.
"Thanks," Franziska said with a smile.
"Devin's right. Who could she have pissed off enough to warrant a hit like this?" Wayne asked.
Angie and Franziska shared a look.
Angie was the only one who knew of Franziska's history.
"I will go speak with her," Michael said.
He walked into the holding cells and stood in front of Talia's doorway. She was standing up and glaring at him defiantly.
"So, care to tell why you tried to kill my friend?" Michael asked.
She said nothing.
Michael sighed. "Look, we're going to find out one way or the other. Either you tell us what you know, or my friend, the one you tried to kill who also happens to be a telepath, comes in here and picks your brain apart. You ever seen a telepath going through a person's mind without a care to their well-being? By the time she is done with you, you'll be a cross-eyed mess who can't even open her mouth without drooling. Your choice."
Wayne looked over to Franziska.
"You wouldn't do that, would you?"
"The Lord says thou shalt not kill. He didn't say anything about inflicting permanent brain damage," she said coldly.
"You get kind of hot when you get scary, you know that?" Wayne asked.
Franziska looked surprised and then blushed.
"You remember what it was like the first time she went in your head? Imagine that, only much worse," Michael said.
"Fine!" the woman snapped. "Just keep that freak away from me! I'd be glad to help you out anyway; my employer didn't tell me she was a mutant! Had I known that, I would have used my sniper rifle!"
"Who is your employer?" Michael asked.
"I don't know." Michael gave her a look. "Really, I don't know. Lots of my clients request my services through mail or over computer screens and they distort their voices and blur their images. Unlike in the movies, when people order a hit they like to keep their identities hidden so they don't get caught."
Michael used his soul vision. The woman's colors were sharp and harsh. But he could see she was telling the truth.
"Is there anything you can tell me about who hired you?"
"He paid me a lot. Fifty million."
"Holy shit!" Devin said.
"Fifty million?" Angie asked shocked.
"This is getting more and more interesting," Rickard said. "What else can you tell me?"
"The hit came from Germany," she said.
"Wait, isn't that where you're from?" Wayne asked Franziska.
Franziska nodded.
"What else can you tell me?" Michael asked.
"Nothing. I swear. I don't ask a lot of questions. Only a name, a location, and a payment, that is it."
Michael gave her a harsh look.
"You don't feel any regret? All the lives you took, how many of them were innocent?"
"Don't get sanctimonious with me, kid! I am a killer; I am good at killing, hell, I like to kill! So don't try and chastise me!"
Michael walked out of the holding cell room and rejoined his team.
"Franziska, I want you to wipe her mind of her recent memories. We'll drop her off to the authorities and let them deal with her," Michael said.
"With pleasure," Franziska said with a smile.
"Do you know who would want you dead?" Michael asked.
Franziska looked down in shame. Angie walked over to her and held her hand.
"There is only one man who would want me dead. My father."
Everyone looked at her stunned.
"Why would your father want you dead?" Wayne asked.
"It's okay Franziska, we're here for you," Angie said.
Franziska took a deep breath. Then she told them her story.
Fusedtwilight: Who would want Franziska dead? Next chapter Franziska goes to uncover her would be killers identity and Michael and Rickard must deal with their own family issues as well.
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Angel In The Attic