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Firebird Rising	By : Jenskott Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female > Scott/Jean Views: 3256 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Firebird Rising

Author: Jenskott
Summary: Jean Grey is dead. Will Phoenix be able to rise
from the ashes again? What will happen if she does it? My own version of the
new 'Phoenix Endsong' series.
Disclaimer: Marvel owns the books. Stan Lee and Jack Kirby are their
true parents.
Feedback: To jorgisimox@hotmail.com. Please, I need reviews! English
isn't my primary language, so I need much advice.

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Part Seven. And Hellfire Is Their Name-

A waning moon hung on the indigo firmament, cloaking the stars with its
pale, ashen glow. The glittering light, cold and still comforting, bathed the
sky and coated the landscape with an ivory sheen. Trees, bushes, grass
glistened with a milky brightness, as rested in a peaceful slumber. Nothing
moved; nothing stirred. The place was frozen in a still, peaceful silence.

So much silence felt disturbing. Eerie. Foreboding.

A large lake reflected on its surface -flat and silvery like a mirror-
the cloudless sky, the lazy moon, the thick trees growing around the water, and
the two persons strolling along the shoreline.

After a quiet, slow walk, they sat down on one slope overlooking the
immense pool and ensconced on the humid grass. For a while they remained still
in that posture, gazing the crystalline waters and smelling the scents of the
forest in the night.

Logan glanced sideways
at Ororo. She seemed blissfully happy, contemplating the scenery with a fond
smile. Slowly he turned around, placed warily his rough hands on her smooth shoulders
and kissed her.

For long seconds they relished on the kiss. Reluctantly he broke it and
stared at her eyes.

"I have no freaking idea of what I'm doing." He stated.

"That makes two of us." She replied, her expression actually
saddening. Her eyes drifted to her lap, where her hands wrung nervously the
folds of her skirt. "Are you certain of you want going through with this, Logan? We were scared
and lonely and in need of comfort the first time it happened... There's no
reason to try getting something else out of this relationship if you don't
want..."

Logan started to
protest, but she silenced him with a harsh glance. He kept quiet.

"I'm serious, Logan! I've already got
my heart dangling above an abyss. I refuse having gripped it again in a man's
clutches doesn't want me but neither lets me go. I won't bear that suffering
again. I shan't be strung along again." Before Logan barked angry
words of denial, she drilled him with a stern glare, more terrible than one of
her tempests. "You still love Jean."

He sighed heavily, letting out his inward regret. "No, I... One
piece of me will always love her, but I've given up long ago. I knew I couldn't
have her; and I always chase what I can't have. But I faced reality years ago.
Nothing would work ever between Jean and me. And it isn't only cause she's much
in love with Cyke. We are too similar and too different."

"Uh?" Storm muttered hesitantly, not entirely certain of what
he meant.

"She and I are two of one kin: both with one beast inside, both
wishing letting it out. In many aspects she's like me: thickheaded,
temperamental, irrational, bold. I felt she could look in the beast without
feeling fear and find the man underneath. I... loved that." He shook his
head wishfully. "I loved her because we share the worst traits, but we
have nothing else in common. She's a middle-class American girl in heart, not
matter what stuff she has seen or what places has visited. I'm a Canadian man,
old enough to be her grandfather, who has been soldier, mercenary, spy and who
knows what else, and has got his head screwed over and over."

"I love her and I know she feels attracted, but it isn't enough to
build a long-term relationship. The passion would eventually go away, and
then... What? She needs control, stability, reliability, things I can't give
her."

"But Scott does it. They are like two pieces of a jigsaw: they're
different, but fit with each other." Ororo mused thoughtfully. It sounded
like... like Logan and herself. "Jean used to tell me they were good for
each other precisely because theirs differences. Scott taught her to control
her temper and think before acting; she taught him to feel instead of brooding
so much."

Her stare drifted at wandering Moon as she pondered quietly about her
feelings. Though Logan lowered his eyes to the ground, his mood darkening
quickly.

"Right. When I realized it, I stopped being jealous because I
understood I had nothing to be jealous about. I woke up. She was a dream, an
ideal. Not a real woman. And at the end she was hurt for my fault."

Ororo curled her lips and grimaced uneasily, understanding what he was
telling as well as he was silencing.

Logan was a free, honorable man above all. Freedom made him feel like a
person. Honor gave him something to cling to when the beast threatened with
stripping his mind from his humanity.

And he had permitted En Sabah Nur, the accursed Apocalypse turned him in
his horseman. His perfect plan to find out his evil scheme and ruin it went to
hell when Nur enslaved him and used to gather the Twelve.

He had been willingly a tyrant's puppet.

He had hurt his friends.

He had betrayed his family.

He would rather be dead.

She knew that terrible time had haunted him. Tormented during sleepless
nights. She knew it, she knew how he concealed his pain behind his rough
countenance, and despite it she went away with hers X-treme X-Men in a Hunt for
Destine's Diaries. She hadn't been there to help him, console him, heal him.

He wasn't the only with regrets.

"You did that you judged right in the time, Logan." She tried
to reassure him. "There was simply no way of you could foretell the full
scope of the repercussions."

"That's the trouble, Ro." He wailed miserably. "I never
think beforehand. I was so... damned arrogant, so stupidly self-assured of I
knew where I was getting into, so pathetically certain of that bastard couldn't
manipulate me... and I hurt my friends. I hurt Jean. And I wanted being her
boyfriend? Hah! Not even I was a good friend."

He was trembling with pain. Ororo stroked his hand, feeling his soft
roughness. He gripped her lean fingers tightly, yearning for that reassuring
warmth. "I'm tired from chasing ghosts. Very tired. Loving Mariko was
different of lusting after Jean. She not only saw the man inside; she loved it
and nurtured it. She made me feel like a person. Just like you." Her heart
skipped several heartbeats as he talked. "I don't want an ideal to worship
or a fantasy to dream about. I want someone REAL, someone I can touch and huge
and kiss and won't vanish when I open my eyes. I want... you, Ororo."

The woman who had tamed tempests and rode hurricanes, wielded the power
of the lightning in her fists and mastered the elements, squirmed, frightened
of the powerful and burning emotion nestled in her chest. A wet brightness
glistened on her eyes "Oh, Logan. I'm so happy." She sobbed.

In a short split-second she pounced on him, tackling him on the grass. Before
he uttered some noise the black-skinned woman had covered his lips.

Happy Ororo was a force to be reckoned, Logan pondered dizzily as she
kissed him ravenously, kneading eagerly his taut pectorals and tugging from the
clothes bothering her.

"This moment is so perfect." She breathed hotly.

"You only KNOW some shit is about of spoiling it." He
muttered.

The pool's surface wavered tremulously and rings of water rippled from
the center to splash the lakeside. Abruptly the waters exploded and a shape,
dark and massive, emerged violently out from the depths. Tall, massive waves
rose and hammered the green coast, showering both lovers with cold water and
surf.

Ororo sighed wearily. "I refuse being surprised or shocked or
stunned. It was to be expected."

"I'd be surprised if it hadn't happened." Logan stated among
spits of water.

Both observed the gigantic monster had risen from the depths and whose
looming shadow shielded them from the moon. A massive humanoid with a metallic
hide glinted menacingly under the moonlight. Its body was black and glossy,
like a beetle's carapace, and its eyes were two cold pools of yellow light
stared unemotionally at them. A sentinel.

Wolverine and Storm wrenched from each other instantly and rolled over
the waterlogged terrain before leaping in fighting crouches. Claws slid out theirs
sockets and the air hummed with electricity.

"Fast! Keep it busy as I call for help!" Ororo commanded as
her suit's molecules rearranged in a sleek costume of leather. A wind lifted
her in the air, blowing her jet-black cloak like a vampire's wings and
fluttering her wavy, white mane. Mentally she sent a desperate shout to Sage,
Rachel, Cable or whatever telepath awake in the mansion.

Meanwhile the sentinel waded ashore, sunk in the water up to its waist. Wolverine
raced towards the robot, uttering a bellow of primal fury, reared his arms and
slashed furiously the midsection.

His claws hit the metallic skin with a loud clattering and bounced off
it.

Logan stood paralyzed in disbelief. As he was gawking, the sentinel
lifted his fist and backhanded him contemptuously. Wolverine flew towards the
trees like a bullet and his back slammed on an old poplar. Half trunk exploded
in splinters and sawdust, and the tree fell, uprooted, noisily on the land.

"Logan!" Storm screamed in terror before aiming a burning,
fury-filled glare at the sentinel. Sparks flickered on her right palm with
furious crackles and her eyes glowed unnaturally as she built up her elemental
power. She whipped her arm towards the robot, releasing a hissing, amber
thunderbolt.

The thundering discharge struck the sentinel's frame and died away
without damaging it. Storm gawked at the expressionless robot stared at her
mutely. As she was hovered stunned and motionless, the humanoid opened its
mouth and let loose a sonic blast blew Storm and rendered her unconscious.

Logan was extricating himself out of the pile of leaves and wooden
debris scattered over his body, when he saw Ororo falling limply towards the
land. Terror chilled his blood. Panic-stricken, he sprang upwards, caught her
in midair, and landed with her in arms.

Right when his feet touched the floor, the sentinel's fist hammered
brutally the ground. The entire ground shook like a beaten carpet, unbalancing
both mutants and bringing them down. Red beams erupted from robot's eyes and
drew a circle around of them. Blazes grew and blossomed from it.

Logan stared helplessly at the fire enveloping them, hugging fiercely
his lover. However the frantic movement, the sticky heat and the searing glow
brought Storm around. Ororo opened her eyes, saw the flames and spread
instantly her conscience to the sky. A blanket of clouds gathered and poured a
dense curtain of rain over them. But instead of dousing the incredibly hot
fire, the water seemed fueling it.

Wolverine and Storm looked dreadfully to the charring fire and to the
robot. The sentinel was rising one of its massive legs, planting it on the
muddy slope and leaning onwards. It was propelling out of the lake when a red
blast pierced through the air and smashed on its chest.

"You have committed a big mistake, sentinel! When you attack one
X-Men, you attack everyone!"

Feeling relief flowing in them, both mutants turned to see Cyclops and
several X-Men -Marvel Girl, Rogue, Gambit, Angel, Northstar, Shadowcat, Jubilee
and Husk- sprinting or flying towards them.

As they approached, the blistering flames extinguished mysteriously.

Meanwhile the sentinel trod on stable ground, and trudged towards them,
shaking the ground with each booming step. Cyclops' beam hadn't deterred him;
it didn't even dent its armor. The X-Men clustered around the two bruised
members and prepared to battle.

"Where is Bishop? And Tessa?" Ororo queried concernedly.

"In Monitor's Room, along with Jean." Scott muttered levelly.
Guilty sadness cracked his unreadable mask and he lowered his head. "She
insisted on coming along but I talked her out of it."

Storm breathed relieved. "Thanks Goddess. Have you conceived any
plan to obliterate that sentinel? Neither of our attacks has affected it so
far."

The mutants stared at the robot approaching imperturbably, his mass
casting a threatening shadow over them. And they felt frightened. Northstar,
though, snorted.

"Please! It's just one sentinel! We can beat up it easily."

Another quake whipped up the lake and several robots exploded out the
water. Behind the X-Men the wood trembled of sudden and more sentinels rose
amidst the trees.

Jubilee glared at the monolithic robots heading steadily towards them
and growled. "A ton of thanks, Beaubier."

Slowly, step after step, the giants circled the mutants. Always quiet,
always emotionless, they rose theirs fists. Fire blasts from death erupted from
them.

A powerful telekinetic dome flashed around the X-Men, sheltering them
from any harm, but the explosion destroyed both the shield and the bolts in a
burst of light. Struck by the brutal backlash, Rachel Summers collapsed on the
floor. Kitty scooped up the woman on her arms before the humanoids let loose
another volley of discharges.

Explosions burst around them, singing the grass, wrecking the ground and
throwing rubble everywhere. The X-Men scattered and struck back but no power
damaged the sentinels: Cyclops' beams didn't tear them apart, Storm's bolts
didn't melt them, Wolverine's claws didn't shred them, Rogue's fists didn't
wreck them.

Rachel groaned painfully with the strain of maintaining a defensive
shield around her best friend and herself as her telekinesis tried vainly
ripping apart the nearest sentinel. She growled in frustration and halted her
useless attacks. She didn't believe it. Her telekinesis could snuff suns out
but couldn't shred that junk's atoms. It was like if she was trying hitting a
void.

Near from them another robot had snatched Logan and was squeezing his
body with terrific strength, eliciting pain howls from him. Across them a
sentinel's glowing blast had sent Scott sprawling on a crater. The robot lifted
his boot up to stamp on her father, but he rolled away automatically, and
raised his hand towards his visor.

Unexpectedly he stopped to look to his open palm. Rachel noticed his
dumbfounded stare and peered curiously at his hand.

Grass blades were glued on his skin. Fresh blades of verdant grass.

But it was impossible. Scott had fallen on a patch of scorched ground
and had cartwheeled over it. His outfit, his hands... should be soiled with
hot, black soot.

Everything was clear of sudden.

"The sentinels aren't real!" She screamed. "They're an
illusion!"

The X-Men halted momentarily their fights in shock.

Don't you see it? She shouted in theirs heads. She cursed the disbelief
she sensed in them. If they didn't believe her, those ghosts would slay them. Logan,
think! Your claws are made from adamantium! That sentinel can't be wrought with
some stuff tougher! He CAN'T be whole after your swipes!

Logan blinked a moment. Then he shut his eyes and focused, trying going
beyond the pain, beyond his senses. Suddenly he was falling freely downwards.

Wolverine twisted his body in midair, rolled around and landed on his
feet. The sentinel had vanished. He panted in relief. "It was true. These
sentinels are a freaking swindle."

"X-Men, assemble!" Cyclops shouted. Instantly his squad
huddled around him, back against back. "How do we fight them then,
Scott?" Rogue stammered uneasily.

Storm shook her head. "We don't. We stop the caster. Then these
mirages will vanish automatically."

"But who may be casting these illusions?" Jean-Paul Beaubier,
the newest X-Man queried.

"There only can be one person. A man who should be dead." Scott
grated darkly, his eyes narrowed to slits behind his visor, a flare glowing on
the red lens. Mentally he called Rachel. Marvel Girl!

Y-yes?

Can you open a channel between my mind and Logan's?

She nodded mentally.

All right. Wolverine, scan the place with your senses. Look for anything
amiss. An area you can't focus on.

Logan nodded physically and sharpened his eyesight, his ears, his nose. He
surveyed thoroughly the landscape, ignoring the sentinels, and read each color,
each shape, each sound, each scent.

There! Amidst the oaks there was an area where shadows drew weird shapes
because light glided oddly; where leaves trembled instead of swaying; where
floated the reek of a no-existent smoke. And when he focused on it, the image
blurred, like if the space was folded on itself.

The image flashed from Logan to Scott through Rachel. Cyclops spun
swiftly at the grove and released a powerful optic blast drilled the darkness
and disappeared in the depths of the wood.

A noise echoed.

The robots' shapes wavered, turned translucent and dissipated in the
darkness. The patches of singed grass and craters of blackened molten rock
vanished, showing the land unscarred.

A sound of footsteps echoed from the foliage. The X-Men crouched in
nervous anticipation. The thicket rustled and branches broke off. A shadow slid
out the trees. Large, malignant and grinning. The moon lit up his harsh
features, distorted by a wicked smile. Sebastian Shaw.

"Splendid, Cyclops. Your aiming is as amazing as always."

Scott almost gasped, puzzled of seeing him. Still he stiffened his
expression and masked his emotions. He'd never permit a foe read him.
"Where is Mastermind? And what do you want now, Shaw?"

"I want that I've always wanted, Mr. Summers. Absolute,
unchallenged power. And the X-Men are a constant source of nuisances to my
institution and me. You harbor power; and when I find a power's source I lure
it to my side or I destroy it."

As he talked, several figures emerged among the forest's flickering
shadows, grinning pompously. Mastermind. Selene. Donald Pierce, ex-leader of
the Reavers, the cyborgs had nearly killed Logan long ago. Darkness rolled
around them, uncertain of embracing them or retreating.

Warren regarded slowly each Lord and huffed, folding his arms together. "Have
you decided look after us finally and this is all the power you bring along? Really,
Shaw. Your son planned better stunts."

His long-time friend, Scott, sneered in agreement. "It's true. And
you always resort to the same pathetic tricks. How many times have we beaten
his illusions?" He pointed at Jason Wyndgarde.

Mastermind burst abruptly into abrupt laughs, dark and unpleasant. "Still
the same old Cyclops, I see. Ever the gullible, arrogant teenager who believes
himself untouchable and unbeatable." The man took a long, deep drag of his
cigarette and leered smugly. "Pathetic fool. You believe you're
invincible, but anybody can defeat you and you'd not even find out about it. Your
minds are stupidly fragile, you know, they can be played with, changed,
smashed. And you'd never figure the culprit. Yes, you are pitifully vulnerable,
my conceited little mutants."

"What do you mean?" Scott muttered, hostile and wary at once. There
was something in that mischievous, evil laughter didn't bode well for him. Something
chilling.

"Allow me explain it, Cyclops." Sebastian interjected of
sudden. "When your mentor's twin sister exposed you to the world, you
became a trouble. You could now reveal Club's activities without any concern
for your secret. It was plainly obvious we had to deal with you, but we weren't
capable of it back then. Thus we needed find some method to keep you busy and
weaken you at once. The answer came when we found out Emma was working with
you."

All hearts stopped. Mastermind grinned malevolently.

"It was easy. Quick. Simple. Amazingly simple. I screwed her head
with illusions until she didn't differentiate between reality and fantasy. She
was doing everything we wanted and she never figured we were using her."

He arched back his head and guffawed cruelly again. "It was so
funny! The bitch always mocked from my power and me. She considered me a joke
and threatened me constantly with wiping my mind out of boredom. But at the end
I was more powerful! And not only I got revenge from her but Emma served me as
well to get revenge from Jean Grey. Arrogant whores. They think they can insult
me, beat me and trample me, but they grovel like earthworms when I use my mutation.
Those wretches are only worth to get laid."

"Let me get this straight" Cyclops interrupted brusquely.
"You manipulated Emma so she manipulated me in turn, hoping it broke the
X-Men for breaking up my wife and me, and incidentally achieving personal
revenge. Is that all? Have I forgotten anything?"

"No, it sums up everything. You were the pillar where Xavier's
dream was built on. Demolished the pillar, the building nearly toppled
down." Shaw retorted with an ugly smirk. "Have you anything to tell?"

A slow and threatening thunder, rolling through the sky, replied.

Scott himself didn't answer. He was frighteningly quiet. His body was
rigid and motionless; his face was stiff and unreadable. He seemed a statue of
stone. It was enervating. Then a terrific red blaze pulsated on his visor, as
his muscles clenched tightly and his body quivered with a boiling emotion.

Rage. Overwhelming, burning, murderer. The biggest fury he had felt in
years. Choler clouded his reason and dyed his vision with one single shade of
red. Blood crimson.

His X-men shared that feeling. A sinister yellow color replaced the
natural green of Rachel's eyes as her body emitted a dull red glow and the very
air trembled terrifyingly around her. Storm's eyes flared as an aura of bright
electricity rose around her and clouds darkened quietly the sky. Logan crouched
down, Rogue crackled impatiently her knuckles, Gambit charged one card, Jubilee
focused sparks among her fingertips.

Tension polluted the air, tangible and acrid-smelling. Grey clouds
overcast the sky and the icy wind whistled and howled, promising an imminent
storm.

"Three words." Scott seethed with a voice coldest than a gust
of arctic breeze. "Take them down!"

A clamor burst out of X-Men's throats and they lunged simultaneously,
channeling force beams, cosmic fire, kinetic power, sky beams, explosive
sparks. Abruptly an intense, excruciating pain shattered disdainfully their
mental defenses and stabbed theirs minds. They shrieked and collapsed on the floor,
or kneeled shakily on the grass.

Rachel blinked away the tears trickling from her eyes and squinted
painfully at the Black Queen. "What... have... you... done... us...
witch?"

"Me?" Selene fluttered obscenely her black eyelashes with a
stare of fake innocence. "Nothing."

She clicked her fingers. Footsteps echoed again in the foliage, and
other silhouette emerged out of the wood, white like a specter of mist. Her
scarred body swayed like a reed battered by the breeze. Her unblinking eyes
were wide open, like blue glass beads, on a face bereft of emotion.

Rachel recognized instantly Emma, but she focused in something only she
could detect. Tendrils of psionic energy welled from Emma's forehead, linking
her mind with every mutant. Rachel gasped, recognizing the communication
channels the woman had established permanently with 'hers' X-Men.

"Don't bother in speaking her, she has no enough mind left to
answer, think or even hear." The Black Queen chuckled darkly.
"Sebastian wanted sentencing her to death but I convinced him she could
still be useful. After all she didn't need find a chink in your mental
defenses. You had already allowed her building a backdoor."

A sudden tremor shook the ground. Explosions sounded far away. Many of
them.

"W-what is that?" Moaned Wolverine, struggling desperately for
standing on his legs.

"Oh, that noise? It must be our soldiers, raiding your house while
you are wasting time uselessly out here. They'll slaughter every child you
protect and raze the place to dust. And meanwhile, you shall lie agonizing in
this field, lured to your demises by a paltry mirage! Pitiful fools!"

Selene cackled loudly, letting horror sank slowly in theirs minds.

"It shall be enough, Selene." Shaw snapped brusquely.
"Don't play anymore with them. There still are too many X-Men in the
mansion. Kill them already."

Selene pouted plaintively. Reluctantly she nodded at Emma.

The White Queen's expression didn't waver, but a glossy shimmer drifted
over her soulless eyes. Her body started pulsating light, pouring and swirling
tendrils of psionic energy around her.

Scott propped laboriously on his four limbs and squinted at her.
"Emma... don't do this... please..."

Frost paused for a second, like if the voice had stirred a vague feeling
in her hollow mind. Then her hesitation faded and she focused her power in her
hands. Her fists irradiated white brightness and she fired an assassin blast of
flaring telepathy through the psilinks.

A light arc shone in the astral plane of sudden and sliced swiftly the
threads linking Emma's mind and the X-men. The blast flowed back at Emma and
she collapsed, uttering a piercing yell.

Selene stared at her puppet, a limp heap slumped awkwardly on the floor,
and glanced Westwards. A terrible power of wrath and revenge was approaching.

Striding calmly towards them, his body burning in a golden fireball, his
fist caressing gingerly his metallic pike, he arrived. Nathan Christopher
Charles Summers Dayspring. Cable. The Chosen One, Askani's Son. The Slayer of
Apocalypse, scion of a religion born in a dead future, savior of a world and
arguably the most powerful mutant ever.

He regarded disdainfully the Club's members. "Did you seriously
think it'd be so easy?" Nathan scoffed and glanced at the X-Men grinning.
They were slowly coming around and standing up. "Havok suggested me come
here as they looked after your soldiers. And Jean suggested me some
words..."

"Don't bother. I can guess what she told." A throaty voice
grated.

Slowly Scott Summers rose. A migraine throbbed in his temples, his
muscles ached and he had accidentally bitten his lip, smearing it with blood.
He ignored all of it: the pain, the weakness, the dizziness.

Nathan could feel the burning contempt, smoldering rage and blistering
hatred churning within him and hardening his countenance in a rigid expression
of stone-hard, absolute determination.

"X-MEN, ATTACK!"

Abruptly Cyclops yanked furiously his golden visor from his face.

An irresistible tidal wave of red power slammed on Shaw, hurling him far
away into the forest.

<><><><>

Tessa studied intensely the monitors, her soft features marred by a
wrinkled frown as her attention shifted from the battle waging in the meadow to
the fights raging indoors. In each hall, in each room, in each stair, the X-men
fought furiously the blue-and-red-costumed troops had raided the mansion
bringing fire and explosions and death.

Her hazel eyes lingered briefly on the broad back of a huge black man.
She couldn't help to be glad of having kicked Bishop out of the Room. The man
meant well -he always meant well- but he was utterly tactless.

And glancing sideways the black-curled woman knew it was exactly what
they didn't need right now.

By her right side sat Jean Grey, still and silent, staring impassively
at the images the screens showed. Her hands gripped a metal board was scarred
with furrows of fingers scratching it with a frightful strength. Dark stains of
blood smeared the metal.

Jean didn't seem noticing her wounds. Her body was stiffened and her
face was serious, grim, darkened. Still there was an odd glow shifting and
blazing on those unblinking eyes.

Cautiously Sage peered at them for a second. She looked away, utterly
terrified.

<><><><>

Barely Scott had roared his orders, the X-Men scattered around the field
instantly, heading for their foes. Nathan Summers was striding briskly towards
Selene, brandishing determinedly his psimitar, when a bolt crashed on his
shields.

The beam exploded harmlessly on tiny sparks, being too weak to destroy
his shields.

Emma had risen again, standing unsteadily on weak legs as her soulless
eyes stared far away.

Cable narrowed his grey eyes and aimed a heated glare at Selene,
demanding silently. The sinister woman rolled one lock of raven hair around her
fingers and grinned lecherously.

"Your attacks are useless, Chosen Child." She drawled.
"She's just my hollow-minded puppet. She can't feel pain or suffering or
grief. You can't stop her unless you slay her. But your pretty moral shall not
allow it, shall it?"

"I wouldn't be so sure." Nathan seethed darkly. "But the
solution is simpler than you believe."

"Indeed. If you can't burn the puppet, beat up the puppet
master." Rachel Summers stepped ahead her brother, glaring calmly but
balefully at the woman as her eyes emitted a bright glow and her flame-like
locks fluttered in the still air. "Look after Frost, brother. I'll handle
Bondage Queen over here."

Nathan nodded and headed for Emma, leaving his sister alone to face the
Black Queen.

"Do you think you can handle me, child?" Selene burst out in
laughs. "Stupid mortal. Have I not told that your paltry powers are
NOTHING compared with mine?"

Her eyes flashed ghastly ivory for a moment as her mind visualized the
ground. The land split beneath Rachel's feet, rose around her and clamped her
body like hard jaws of stone. Sharp, fang-like rock spikes squashed her soft
flesh.

Rachel's eyelashes fluttered playfully, though. "I'm sorry. I
wasn't listening."

Instantly the stone coffin encasing her exploded in a thick cloud of
dirt and rubble. Rachel's mind picked every bit, every fragment of shrapnel and
hurled it towards Selene. The woman forged a telekinetic shield hurriedly and
deflected the barrage of debris.

"You got two shots with me, witch. That's more what has got NOBODY,
including Ahab, and you wasted them." Rachel stated loudly, as her hair
strands transformed into bright embers and an orange flame enfolded her.
"Now I shall teach you the true power of Summers lineage."

"And what can it be?" Selene barked tartly as her hands
unleashed a searing telepathic blast.

Rachel retaliated with a twenty times stronger attack, a bolt of
telepathy and telekinesis entwined shattered the tinier discharge and hurled
the Black Queen into the thick foliage.

"Make a silly question..." The flame-haired woman grinned
gleefully before bolting at the woods.

<><><><>

Eager for pummeling the arrogant bastard, Northstar darted towards
Mastermind, lifting a fist.

He flew through Wyndgarde like if the man was made from air and crashed
into something invisible, but solid. And quite tough.

As he flopped down onto the soft ground awkwardly, Northstar guessed he
had been victim of another stupid illusion. Surely he had bumped into a tree.

He stood up unsteadily, rubbing his bruised face and turned around. A
row of Mastermind's images surrounded him. Theirs eyes leered down on him.
Mocking. Laughing. Guffawing.

"And now what will you do, X-Man?" They chorused, moving
theirs lips simultaneously. The mirage was uncannily perfect. "How will
you find the real me if you can't even see what is in front of your eyes?"

He groaned and pounced on the nearest. His fist blew through the image,
dissolving it. Rapidly he started smashing the remainders, shattering one after
other until his knuckles connected with something solid. Northstar grabbed that
Mastermind and pummeled his ugly visage dozens of times incredibly fast.

He halted his onslaught abruptly. Mastermind's face had melted away and
transformed. Now he was watching Iceman's face. Bruised and bloodied, the nose
broken and the lip split, dangling limply.

He had been punching Bobby. No, impossible. Bobby wasn't in that
battleground. It was another illusion, another damned illusion, another
goddamned illusion, it had to be...

An ugly smirk tilted Bobby's lips' corners upwards and the vision stared
straight at Northstar's horrified eyes.

"Have any trouble acknowledging my illusions, X-Man? Aren't you
scared? Aren't you frightened of hitting one of your little friends believing
he's an enemy?"

The twisted, grinning face began to rot and melt and crumble in dust.

Something tapped Northstar's shoulder. Reluctantly, he turned. A
misshapen demon of orange fire and bubbling lava stared at him irradiating
appalling pain through its hollow eye-sockets.

He felt shock and horror and revulsion and the urge of attacking that
thing. But he couldn't. Maybe it was a friend, or a partner, or simply something
would crunch his fist if he struck. But perhaps it was a real danger and it'd
strike HIM if he stayed motionless.

The Canadian man hopped on the air and flew away, far away, unable to
fight, unable to fight back. He streaked through the midnight sky. But
Mastermind's voice chased him for everywhere, taunting him.

"You can't get away, X-Man. I can make you believe you've flown
miles away albeit you haven't moved. I can make you believe you're safe when
you're about of getting killed. I can make you frightened when there's nothing
to be frightened of, desperate when there're no reasons to despair."

Then the world warped. Up, down, right and left became mixed. Sky and
ground merged and he lost his direction. The mirage changed and of sudden there
were endless rows of stairs going from and towards every places, vanishing in
the infinite. The world shifted again and now he was soaring over a wrecked
land where volcanoes vomited tongues of hot magma. Straight after he was
drifting in the cosmos, choking and freezing in the deadly space coldness. The
scene warped and he was drowning in an ocean full of tenebrous shapes dwelled
in the abyssal darkness. The picture became fully black, a glacial darkness
where two unimaginably immense eyes floated, glaring mockingly.

"You think you're powerful and invincible and downright superior to
me, don't you? Do you think you can beat an illusionist, speedster? Fool! My
power makes the human mind STAGGER!"

Straight after he was assaulted by hordes of soldiers and riders,
knights and samurais, vikings and indians, pirates and crusaders. He fled and
was chased by black-scaled wyverns, sharp-beaked griffins with bone-crushing
talons, flaming balrogs wielding whips, sea-snakes whose glistening fangs
dripped poison, lycanthropes with blood-smeared maws, orcs waving blunt swords,
bodiless wraiths wailing blood-chilling cries, furry trolls, grey-skinned
gargoyles, giant spiders and shrilling harpies and bat-like vampires and
goblins and sphinxes and hydras and chimeras and krakens and ogres and demons
and ghouls and...

And he couldn't run away and he wanted fighting but he didn't dare and
there were so many and they were reaching him and he didn't know what was real
and what not and he was weary and dreadful and sickened and he wanted fleeing
and hiding and forgetting, but he couldn't give up, he didn't want giving up,
he'd never give up, but he was frightened, oh so frightened and they were
surrounding him and...

Of sudden everything stopped. The nightmarish shapes vanished, the
illusory landscape faded.

Full with fear and reluctance, Northstar looked around. He was again in
the forest's threshold. Not far from him Jason Wyndgarde was sprawled facedown
on the grass, still and unconscious.

Above him was standing Husk, grabbing the back of his jacket's collar
with one hand. Her other arm was lifted to chest level, and the skin covering
the fist was peeled, revealing a heavy mace of grey stone.

"Have..." He stammered hesitantly. "Have you knocked him
out?"

"Yes. Thanks to you." The blonde girl smiled warmly. "He
was so focused on you he didn't see me sneaking behind him. If you had given up
he had spotted me and hurt me, but you didn't."

Northstar smiled back. An unwelcome thought crossed abruptly his mind and
a frown hardened his expression. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this is a trick to
force me to get my guard down."

Guthrie smiled bleakly. "I suppose it's a matter of faith."

<><><><>

Rachel navigated stealthily through the forest, scanning the underbrush
with all her senses, physical and psychical. Each lingering shadow startled
her. She was aware of her weakness. In that terrain she wasn't hunter, but
prey.

However Rachel missed the shadow lurking above her, camouflaged in the
darkness of the web the branches, leaves and weeds wove.

Mentally she was settling on a strategy. She could be stealthier, dive
in the bushes and search Selene crawling over the ground.

Or perhaps she could goad her. "Eh, witch! Where are you
hiding?" She sang cheerfully. "You don't need be frightened. I don't
plan hurt you... a lot."

Of sudden a large boulder erupted from the foliage and flew towards her.
The young telekinetic stretched onward her arm and caught easily the projectile
before closing her fist, pulverizing it.

As the stone crumbled between her fingers, a shadow leapt from the
branches, sliding noiselessly among twigs and leaves, and materializing an
energy blade in her hand, stabbed mercilessly Rachel's back, right above the
tailbone.

Marvel Girl screeched when a jolt of pain burst behind her and coursed
through her spine. Her body fell heavily on the littered floor, like struck by
a thunder, and she moaned.

Tears clouded her eyes, but she still spotted a sword tip diving towards
her throat. Rapidly she cartwheeled as the sword plunged in fresh Earth. She
jumped on her feet and looked at last to her foe.

Her lips let out a gasp.

<><><><>

Logan's claws itched terribly. He felt the tingle crawling down his
skin, demanding freedom and craving for blood, but he restrained it, clenching
his fists in helpless rage. Kitty stood by his side, trying bravely concealing
her dread.

In front of them stood Donald Pierce, visibly wounded and wrecked. His
clothes were torn and ripped, displaying the long gashes lacerated his body,
shredding both flesh and metal. His face, bruised and bloodied was a mask of
livid fury.

And he was squeezing Jubilee's neck with one claw as his left arm was
draped around her waist.

"I've said you keep still or I'll snap her neck before you gave one
step forward! And you, runt, keep those claws off me unless you want seeing me
ripping her head off!"

As he spewed hatred he crushed ruthlessly Jubilee, who was struggling
fiercely for getting away. Inwardly she was cursing herself. She should have
been prudent instead of coming near when Logan was pounding him on the floor.
"Don't listen to him and kick his ass! You know he wants killing us
all!"

"Hush, little brat!" His claw closed tightly around her throat
in menace. But Jubilee didn't cower.

"I.AM.NOT.A.BRAT!" She replied, and fury overcame fear and
frustration. "And I'll not be used by a Terminator rip-off!"

She raised her hand above her left shoulder and spread her palm open.
Burning sparks burst in front of Pierce's eyes and he squealed in pain, letting
go Jubilee unwillingly to cover his shattered face. Swiftly the girl
somersaulted onward and spun around, placing herself by Logan's left side.

Pierce uncovered warily his injured eyes. Wolverine stomped at him
angrily. His fearsome claws glinted with bloodlust. "So that threatening
one of my kids. Piece of garbage, I'm going to chop you in pieces and the
pieces in PIECES!"

"It shall be no required, beloved." A voice interrupted
abruptly.

Straight after a tiny hurricane arose, sweeping to the White Bishop and
dragging him upwards. Suddenly startled he grasped a dried branch and clung
weakly to it as a roaring, sharp wind whipped him.

Wolverine, Shadowcat and Jubilee turned around. Storm strode towards them,
serene but fiery, doused in crackling tongues of the brightest and purest
light. The power of the hurricane and the blizzard and the lightning coursed
through her body, wrapping her in an unnatural arctic wind flayed violently the
plants blooming around her.

Her narrowed eyes glared at Pierce pouring chilly disdain. "Do you
know what happens when a cyborg is caught in a thunderstorm?"

Kitty eyed the woman in puzzlement. "Thunderstorm? What
thunderstorm?"

Storm looked upwards. Kitty followed her eyes and nodded in
understanding. "Oh. THAT thunderstorm."

A massive, roaring hurricane was dragging the stormclouds in a vortex of
roaring wind and darkest billows. The wind increased its speed, and the whole
air vibrated with its fury. Streaks and forks of golden lightning burst and
crackled and coalesced in the core of the typhoon, shaping a sphere amidst the
spiraling clouds.

Then the electric orb exploded and dozens and dozens of thunderbolts
plunged towards Earth and speared brutally Pierce.

The ear-shattering rumble died away. The hurricane calmed down. The
tempest dissipated, clearing the sky.

Logan and his surrogate daughters stared somewhat sickened in the
blackened, steaming, reeking heap lay sprawled on the grass. And still alive. His
lips let out faint gurgles and his hand still clutched the splintered, burnt
branch. The mastery of the windrider over her powers was amazing.

"It becomes a lightning rod." Storm tossed backwards her wavy
hair in nonchalance. Idly she noticed Kitty was giving her wary and nervous
glances. "What is the matter, kitten?"

The brunette girl stared quickly from her to Logan. "What does
mean... 'beloved'?"

Both adults blushed. "Nothing of your business!" They
chorused.

<><><><>

She was coated in black, so dark her sinuous shape blended, invisible,
in the darkness. But even though she was doused in blackness and shrouded in
shadows, Rachel recognized the violet eyes, the red tattoo marring her face,
the glowing blade of rose energy.

"Betsy!" She shouted in amazement as she scrambled to her
feet. "It can't be! You're dead!"

Selene scoffed. "How you were, child. Nevertheless she isn't really
alive... or dead."

Rachel eyed warily at Selene and back at Psylocke. "What do you
mean?"

"You can't understand what really entails the Crimson Dawn. When
that simpleton Worthington took a portion of it and offered his blood in
payment, he did far more than saving Braddock's life and soul. He unchained
cosmic forces neither of you can imagine. Blood by blood, theirs lives became
entwined by threads too thick to be severed by slashes of an oversized sword.
Vargas ignored that but I not, and after he embalmed his trophy, I stole her
and woke up... under my bidding. Unfortunately she has lost control over the
Crimson Dawn, but it increases greatly her power. Do you want a proof?"

The Black Queen looked meaningfully at her slave. Wordlessly Psylocke
lifted her katana and gripping the hilt with both hands, performed a downward
slash.

With a terrific crunch a long crack zigzagged along the land and the
ground ruptured, rising a dust cloud.

Rachel eyed nervously at the rift, marveled at the power Betsy handled
now, but she had no time to reflections. Psylocke crouched down and leapt
agilely towards her, gliding noiselessly on the air like a being of living
darkness, and slashed downwards, intending rending Rachel asunder.

Marvel Girl put up her hands. A red flare flashed between them.

Betsy's katana collided with a psimitar forged of raw psionic fire had
solidified between Rachel's hands. If the brainwashed woman was able to feel
and display emotions, she would be gaping.

"Do you believe you're the only capable of mastering that trick?
Rachel grunted, barely blocking and holding back the ninja. "I'll kick
your butt, not matter how powerful you are!"

She kicked brutally Betsy's belly, hurling her backwards. Psylocke
recoiled back and doubled over in pain. Swiftly Rachel lunged at her, but the
woman sidestepped, dodging her charge. Quickly both women spun around and
rushed at each other.

Sword and spear collided with a burst of purple light and orange fire,
and a ring of destructive telekinesis rippled through the forest, shaking the
trees, disintegrating rocks and hurling branches and debris around.

Both women dueled, parted their blades and clashed again. The atmosphere
was filled with the clatter of weapons colliding, the hiss of blades slicing
the air impossibly fast and the glimmer of light arcs theirs edges traced in
the darkness. Rachel and Betsy battled mindlessly, slashing, parrying,
stabbing, thrusting, somersaulting, jabbing, flaying, punching, kicking,
dodging, ducking, spinning. Around them air, ground and wood shivered and
writhed.

Rachel parried Betsy's attacks masking her concern behind a hard
grimace. The battle wasn't so even like it seemed. Other than Psylocke was
really trying to kill her, she was very used to move her body like that. Her
memory stored one hundred years worth of experience and fighting knowledge, but
she barely practiced martial arts or fencing. She needed finish the brawl
quickly.

Rachel swung around her long flaming staff in circles, deflecting a
hurricane of slashes as she stepped back.

Her ankle trod accidentally on a stone, distracting her for one second.
Rachel's face dripped with horror.

Betsy squatted down rapidly and swept the ground with her left leg,
slamming Marvel Girl's ankles and subsequently tripping her up. Rachel crashed
heavily onto the soil, breaking brambles and squashing ferns. Betsy seized her
swan-like neck and smashed her head brutally on a gnarled root.

Rachel struggled against the blackness filtering in her vision, and
through that dim haze she saw Psylocke leaned over her. Her eyes irradiated an
unholy paleness, washed out every warmth and emotion, and her fist gripped
fiercely her katana's hilt.

Psylocke reared her arm to embed the blade into Rachel's chest when a
large shape exploded out from the foliage, shrouded in a cloud of countless
bits of wooden debris, caught Betsy and tackled her in the thicket. The shrubs
splintered with the impact and leaves and broken twigs flew around.

And feathers.

Snow-white angel's feathers.

And when the dirt and the debris settled on the littered soil, Warren
Worthington was kneeled on all fours, pinning Betsy with his weight and seizing
firmly her wrists. She twisted her body furiously, trying escaping, but he was
too strong.

"Betsy!" He begged. "Wake up, please!"

She didn't reply. She slipped brusquely her right hand from his grip,
shut it tightly and threw a punch at his forehead, sprouting a dagger-like
flame from hers knuckles. Warren caught the energy blade before she stabbed
him, but the edge cut his skin.

He stifled a moan.

His blood oozed from the wounds and trickled down, dripping on the
darkness cloaking Betsy. The blackness writhed and sizzled with an evil, avid
hiss.

Angel frowned. Crimson Dawn fed on blood, right?

Suddenly determined, he caught Betsy's wrist with his unwounded hand and
planted his palm firmly on her forehead. The slick shadows wavered and rose
from Betsy's body like a black haze. Tendrils of ebony mist swallowed Warren
and wrapped him in an unfathomable darkness only pierced by his moans of agony.

Gradually the shadows faded and the man slumped limply over Psylocke.
His breathing was haggard, and his skin was unnaturally pale. He seemed weak,
sickle. The fog had leeched nearly the half of his blood.

Selene stared at them with unblinking stupefaction. She had laughed when
Worthington interrupted the duel suddenly, but now she was puzzled. She had
lost control over Psylocke. And not only her. Her mind eye could see Cable
imprisoning a fallen Emma within a telekinetic bubble.

Someone had severed her link with both telepaths. But who?

"The Wicked Witch of West." A bodiless voice floated in the
forest.

Selene frowned in quick realization, whirled around and furiously
shouted, "You!"

Two ferocious eyes, blazing green with hatred and resentment, flashed in
the shadows. Gradually a spectral shape materialized. A slim and gorgeous
female body clad in tight black leather, with a sensual face framed by a flame
of hair cascaded freely down the shoulders.

Madelyne Prior. Jean Grey's clon.

Selene knew her too well. Fire lit up her glare. "What do you want,
Madelyne?"

"What I've always wished, witch. Revenge from all who have used me
and discarded afterwards." The redhead woman replied, grinning broadly.

"You should have been satisfied when I allowed you live. Do you truly
believe you can defeat me?"

"No. But I can aid the one is capable." She tilted her head at
the redhead kneeled on the floor. "Even if she is Jean Grey's
daughter."

Selene stared at her with disbelief. "I reiterate my question with
one variation. Do you truly believe she can defeat me?"

Right then Rachel stood up, stroking soothingly her sore neck. She was
recovered. And enraged. "I warned you, whore. You have only one shot with
me. And you wasted it again. Now I'll kick your ass most definitely."

"Are you kidding, child?" Selene chuckled. A smile widened her
glossy-black lips. "You are no contest."

"Have I any humor sense you're aware of?" Rachel fired back.
"No. I'm sarcastic and biting, but I never joke. Otherwise my enemies
would never take me seriously."

"Agreed, then. Fight me in the psionic realm... If you dare."

The Black Queen shut her eyelids and her spirit slid out of her body and
in the Astral Plane.

She gasped. Deep blackness spread everywhere, pierced by countless dots of
milky brightness. Nebulas of rose and indigo dust rolled in the pitch-black
space, stirred by lightning storms, and planets and suns gyrated near from her,
circled by asteroid belts. A lightning star of dazzling brightness whizzed past
her. Summers seemed having settled on the classic starscape.

Of sudden the whole world shuddered. A sequence of quakes and trembles
shook it, warning of the coming of a power capable of rocking the very
foundations of the realm. Planets crumbled in rubble and stars exploded.

Time and space folded and warped in front of Selene, and the thought
fabric tore. Rachel Summers walked through the tattered gap.

"I'm sorry being late." She uttered. And her voice was a
booming thunder, and her eyes glowed with an unholy golden flare and she seemed
human no longer.

Selene arched one brow. "Your galactic illusion is very impressive,
child. It's exactly what I'd expect of an inexpert and careless telepath,
inclined to gloat about her power and waste it with useless visual tricks."

"You're an ignorant fool." Rachel ignored her biting remarks
and spread her arms. Red flames blossomed from her spirit and enfolded her
shape. "Have you ever felt the light and the darkness that lies in the
core of the soul? The universe that throbs in the deepest of the heart?"

Selene hesitated warily, because the wild flames had grown in a massive,
glaring Phoenix. Its majestic wings spread as far as her sight reached. And its
choler-filled eyes burnt.

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and the raptor flapped its wings
once. The swing spawned a hurricane of fire and thunders that swatted Selene,
leaving a trail of cracked planets and crushed stars as it streamed through the
space.

The tidal wave of fire smashed Selene into a rocky asteroid. Chains of
the whitest light sprouted from the rock and coiled around her body, shackling
her tightly. She moaned and struggled and yanked, but the fetters didn't bulge.

Phoenix' victorious shriek resounded across Astral Plane.

She was still trying freeing herself when a slender figure floated
patiently towards her, brandishing an energy spear. The disgust on her face was
as fiery as the flames licking her frame. A light of damnation glowed on her
eyes.

"I suppose the best way of slaying a witch is burning her at a
stake." Marvel Girl hissed, rotating her lance in fast circles before
hurling it. The glowing projectile stuck in Black Queen's chest like a spike
and buried firmly in her heart.

Selene's death cry, bloodcurdling and piercing like a beast's yowl,
echoed in the farthest reaches of Astral Plane, starting all psionic being in
the planet. Hers screams continued as she writhed compulsorily on the chains. A
trickle of drool leaked out her lips' corner and her eyes turned blank and lifeless.
A dull shimmer illuminated her body and light spilled from the spear's wound.

Her hide swelled up, withered and spidery cracks spread along its
surface. Beams of ivory light erupted from within, and through the holes
riddling her skin a stream of energy welled out. A river made from millions of
screeching souls her gluttony had consumed throughout centuries, leaving her
body empty.

Slowly she blackened and dissolved to ashes. Flames lit up the black
pile of cinders.

Rachel stared at the bonfire with an inscrutable frown. "You fought
for sheer pleasure and cherished your prey's suffering. I fight for an ideal
and bask in the victory. The winner never was in question."

The inhuman light burning on her pupils died away and she was a young
woman again. A thought came to her and Rachel smirked. "If I kill another
psychic vampire more, Kitty will ask me if Buffy isn't really my lost
sister."

<><><><>

Moonlight lit up the grassy glade, casting away the shadows and
revealing the grim figures treading it.

They were facing at each other noiselessly. The quiet atmosphere was
tense. Oppressive. Repressed anger churned in that asphyxiating air, heated and
thick like tar, like a prelude of tempest.

In one side was Shaw, big and bulky and tough like a mountain. His
expression was of fury, slightly diluted by smug confidence. Across him stood
Cyclops along Gambit, and Rogue hovering above them. Their expressions were
grim but determined. And dangerous.

"I must admit I didn't expect that attack, Cyclops. I didn't
believe you so impulsive and rash." The Black King snickered, brushing
with one hand the ripped tatters barely covered his chest. "Have you
forgotten I absorb any and all force thrown at me? Your beam has done me
stronger than never."

Scott snorted and looked to Gambit. "Do you know one of the few
perks of my mutation, LeBeau? I can read the body language and tell when
someone is bluffing."

Remy blinked in mock innocence. "Remy had never guessed. Is that
the motive of nobody plays poker with you ever?"

Scott shrugged and gave him an utterly serious look. "I suppose
it's ALSO my fault. I'm too good. I wouldn't be evicted from cards or pool if I
lost every so often."

Gambit tried restraining his laughter. He really tried. He wasn't
successful. "Do you mean he's lying?"

Scott aimed one finger at the Black King. "Yes. He pretends calm,
but he's actually quite nervous. I bet he's lost for now the most of the power
he absorbed, and he's afraid of we realize. So he taunts us to goad us in
committing a mistake."

"Then what do we do, Fearless Leader?"

Scott rolled up his eyes. "Personally I'd tear his limbs off before
throttling him, but Rogue must attack first. Go ahead."

Rogue landed smoothly on the sod. A disturbingly mischievous smirk
sparkled in her pupils as she combed her brown curls backwards.
"Gladly." She uttered.

She strode towards Sebastian Shaw, displaying a feral grin. So wicked,
so roguish that Shaw felt momentarily tempted of giving away his pride and run
away. But that very thought fueled his fury.

"Do you want battling me, little girl?" He taunted.

Rogue huffed, unimpressed. "Look, Sugar. I know the hits make you
stronger but you normal strength is an average man's. And you know I'm
invulnerable and I can defeat you with a slight brush of my fingers. So why
don't you wise up and surrender rather giving me an excuse to hurt you?"

His ire exploded like a volcano and he launched a punch straight on
Rogue's face. Finger's bones splintered and the wrist dislocated with a
sickening crunch. Shaw howled in pain and drew back his arm. She was tough like
steel... No, tougher. He could have got one chance of bending steel.

Rogue rolled up her eyes and grasped his wrist delicately. "Does it
hurt a lot? I'm sorry." Her hand retreated, leaving an odd metallic device
attached to Shaw's wrist.

"What is this?" He muttered warily.

"The bracelet I use to shut my powers off."

Shock flashed on his face.

"By the way, that wasn't a punch, sugar. THIS is a punch."

She reared her fist and struck Shaw's face with a piledriver's strength.
The man soared through the air and crashed violently on the floor, feeling too
hurt to talk or move.

Scott glanced at Gambit. "Your turn."

Shaw's ravaged clothes flashed with scarlet light, glowing brighter
every second. The man noticed it and yanked hastily and brutally his clothes
from him, before tossing the shredded rags far from him. The tatters floated
silently onto the floor before being incinerated in an explosion.

He was calming down when a shadow covered him.

Cyclops was towering over him, enfolded in a ghostly moonlight darkened
his features and warped his figure in a grim, terrible shadow. A darkness just
pierced for two red spots of flaring light.

"Usually I'm not prone to mindless violence. But I'm willing making
an exception." He hissed threateningly, flexing his tense muscles.
"I'm sick of being used. Do you understand? SICK."

He grabbed Shaw's neck. The next thing his foe felt was a fist
shattering his jaw.

<><><><>

The mansion shuddered fearfully, rocked with each explosion booming into
the building. Some walls were cracked and with the plaster scaled off, and the
windows weren't shattered yet gleamed with the burst of a flare, a lightning or
a psionic bolt.

Of sudden a bigger quake shook the school like a card castle. The front
wall exploded, detonated by an unimaginable strength, and boulders, rubble and
soldiers' bodies flew away.

A tall figure emerged amidst the floating dust. Silvery light gleamed
dazzlingly on his metallic body. His meaty fists clenched tightly and his eyes
stared with icy contempt at the men crashing on the floor in a rain of blocks
and dirt. Quietly Colossus hopped onto the floor and waited.

Near from him the mansion's gates opened and a cobalt stream of magnetic
power flowed outwards, dragging more soldiers and laying them callously on the
grass along the remainder henchmen. Polaris strode out, shimmering in blue
electricity, and the X-Men rushed after her, surrounding quickly the defeated
and beaten raiders.

Alex Summers stepped forward. "I hope you realize your
unconditional surrender is not an option."

A man scrambled swiftly for his rifle. Havok's palm unleashed a golden
heat blast melt instantly the weapon.

"I think they have understood at last." Bishop stated gravely,
aiming an oversized gun towards the writhing heap of bruised soldiers.
"Maybe we can finally-"

The atmosphere blazed and a massive arc of pulsating, greyish-azure
electricity split the skies and squashed the X-Men.

Before sinking in cold oblivion, Sam Guthrie made out a bulky figure
approaching slowly. Dimly he recognized the scrawny features, the ruthless and
twisted grimace, the long plait of green hair.

Oh, no. Not him. Not now. He groaned helplessly. When had he joined the
Hellfire Club?

Gideon, the External mutant, capable to copy any mutant's powers,
regarded his fallen enemies and his battered subordinates with identical
disgust.

"Stand up, fools!" He shouted to the troops. "Kill the
X-Men and all people who dwell in the mansion!"

<><><><>

Jean Grey stared at the events unfolding in the monitor in sheer terror
and anguish.

Images flashed in her mind.

The mansion in ruins. Children's bodies lying everywhere. Her family
murdered.

And she was helpless to impede it, unable to use her powers. Everybody
would perish as she looked.

No. She couldn't tolerate it. She wouldn't allow it. She wouldn't stand
by as innocent people died again in an orgy of blood and fire and destruction
and death.

She rose abruptly of her chair and with a determined glare, ignoring
Sage altogether, grabbed her collar and ripped it from her neck.

Her self faded quietly from the room.

<><><><>

Deep in the forest Scott Summers raised his head in sudden alert.

"Something bad is going on."

<><><><>

Intense amber light flooded the country. Golden and glowing and warm
like a dawn.

For a second the fighters thought sun had risen prematurely, and looked
towards the light.

Amidst the meadow, enveloped in a swirling whirlpool of crackling golden
flames, legs separated and fists stuck to her sides, burning eyes and hair
floating in the blazes, stood her: Child of Light and Darkness, Savior and
Annihilator, Starchilde and Chaos-Bringer, Power of Love and Hatred, sacrificed
and reborn in starfire.

Jean Grey-Summers, Phoenix.

<><><><>

-The chapter's title is taken from UXM 132.

-I exposed in the conversation between Ororo and Logan why I think a
relationship between Logan and Jean is a bad idea. And I'm not being biased;
I'm being -relatively- objective. Theirs personalities in the comics are too
incompatible to a relationship worked in the long run. Or at least that I think
when I review the comics and I read how theirs characters are generally
treated. And the Age of Apocalypse reinforced my opinion. Frankly I think
Jean/Warren is more likely to work than Jean/Logan.

-I committed a mistake with Mastermind. I knew he had dead from Legacy
virus but I thought he had been brought back. Oh, well, I think I can think of
some good excuse. All in all, comic characters are dying and resurrecting all
along, aren't they?

-When I started this story, Psylocke was still dead, and I had already
planned resurrect her back then. I haven't read the late comics and I don't
know how she's returned, but I like my excuse. By the way, I suppose it's
obvious now why Warren and Paige argued in an earlier chapter.

-Jean has chosen using her powers to protect the X-Men knowing perfectly
well that selfless act can cost her life. What will be Phoenix's fate?

To be continued...
- 6
- 7
- 8
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