SHIELD Helicarrier, 812.5 Feet above ManhattanDirector Alisande Morales had done a lot to gain the position she now held and none of it was regrettable through her jaded eyes. She had merely taken the necessary steps towards providing humanity with a fighting chance against the incessant disease that was the mutant race, those so-called homo superior beings. It was a Darwinian theory that she now lived her life by yet she was technically the weaker of the two deadlocked in this ongoing battle. Morales would beg to differ with the headcount she was slowly building with her mandated ‘execution’ of any captured mutants. It wasn’t their fault but she was ending their misery. Ticking time bombs were destined to explode sooner or later, Morales had seen that firsthand and she had witnessed it with fresh eyes in every passing moment yet.
It was with a tense anticipation that she lifted the glass of whiskey from her desk, allowing the sweet aroma to bring her back to the life she had once known. Morales hadn’t always been who she was now. Once she was little more than a humble foot soldier with the right connections to get her further but she had been honourable, she had denied the opportunity of nepotism to earn her place. Hardships were character building and they made her who she was now. Perhaps they could have been considered too character building, or maybe the New Mexican had suffered too much trauma in her thirty four years. It didn’t matter now. Ali was dead and Director Morales stood in her place. Memories did nothing but make her weak. Her father was dead; all the whiskey in the world wouldn’t bring him back.
Resurrection wasn’t an option but retribution was. She would destroy the menace that had ruined everything she had ever loved. Morales had seen it happen to one person too many to allow it any longer. She had started a bold crusade, and she had barely escaped with her life – the scars that ran along her face and chest proved that.
“Daddy,” she toasted.
Slowly, Morales tipped the glass into the nearby plant pot as she watched the vibrant green leaves start to wither and decay into nothingness. Even the length of trunk began to buckle and curve under the disastrous effects of the watery liquid poison that had been added to her drink. Morales was a trained agent of SHIELD long before she had taken the role as their leader, she could have spotted the unnatural substance hovering on the top of her drink like a second skin a mile off. Pouting slightly as the plant stopped twitching, Morales was reminded of the reality of its situation. Mutants had done the same thing to humans, frightening them into a corner and striking them when there was no escape. Men, woman and children had died under their freedom and it had to end.
Morales wasn’t a villain, she was a saviour, and the methods were messy but someone had to do it. Someone had to finally take a stand mean it.
“It’ll take a bit more than that.”
X.S.E #7
“Whiskey”
Hammer Bay, GenoshaLady Deathstrike let out a feral growl as she retracted her claws from the reptilian mutant’s chest. Bundles of dark hair fell around the Japanese woman’s paler than normal features; she had finally succumbed to the repercussions of her ability – insanity. Lady Deathstrike was now nothing more than the animal of which her greatest foe was once named. Cassandra Nova had a strange ability to take a monster and make them controllable but only so far as her own plans would allow. The once majestic villainess dropped to her knees as she began to sniff around the carcasses of what was left of the so-called X-Terminators, the first defence of Genosha. Nova noted that they had come a long way from their days as a black ops task force, back in the years when she had first come across their motley crew of mutant misfits. None was of discernable use to her so she held no regret over their bloody deaths. All they could offer was knowledge.
“You have now seen what has happened your friends, girl,” snickered Dark Beast with his melodic lullaby of threats. He was the scientist of this endeavour and believed equal to Nova herself, but he was more than happy to indulge in his sadistic banter. Nova was stoic and in control, she had gathered this team to perform these activities for her. “Sing pretty lady and you just might die with honour. Where are the others?”
“If I die I die with honour, dog.”
Glamour’s red hair fell across her already scarred face, redder from the blood of her friends and the man she loved who had already died. She was the last of the secret keepers. As an X-Terminator she had lived as her worst nightmare but even then the Welsh mutant had done what was necessary to ensure the survival of her race, to protect the home she had made for herself. It was only through a slight glance that she saw the hiding figures in the distance, she immediately recognised them but they would never escape if they made a run for it. Lady Deathstrike already seemed to be getting worked up about the indiscernible scent she had picked up now that all the nearby bodies had died. Glamour took a deep breath and made her choice, she would repent for her sins like her parents would have wanted her too. She wouldn’t receive her Last Rite’s, but she would die a hero. Martyred for a cause she completely believed in.
“You dare–”
“Hail Mary, full of grace,” she whispered.
Glamour’s mutant ability took hold of the Dark Beast as he was whipped off his feet by the red strands of hair that had sprung to life. It was time to create a distraction. Banshee prepared to utter the fatal blow of his sonic scream but she had spent enough time as a member of the X.S.E to anticipate the attack. Her hair slammed forcefully into his throat causing the man to splutter and choke as Juggernaut launched towards her almost trampling the body of his teammate as he stormed forward. Marvel, the sole host of the Phoenix Force, exploded into the air with a shriek of a raptor that had located its prey. Glamour caught sight of the scurrying scavengers. Her prayer continued as she slipped beneath the thunderous fists of the Juggernaut and narrowly avoided the claws of Lady Deathstrike. Marvel reached into the red-haired woman’s mind but she launched the pouncing Dark Beast into the air, striking both him and the telepath into the sandy dunes of Hammer Bay. Banshee began to recover but was knocked over as the Madri exploded into a small army and launched towards the escaping scavengers, ushering the bestial Lady Deathstrike and Banshee to follow them.
“Please Hub, do intercede.”
Hub stepped out from behind her mistress, the timid nature of the African mutant was not lost on Glamour. Her braided hair floated into the air as her eyes shone a bright blue, spirals formed around the young woman’s hands and she realised how far she had fallen. Glamour knew Hub as one of Askari the Spear’s top guardsmen before his assassination. Nova’s smirk did little to diminish the red-haired mutant’s fighting spirit. She made the final move towards the bald mutant who had brought this rain of terrorism on them; the Welsh woman was overcome with her temper but tripped in the sand. Piercing throbs arced throughout her body as blood began to run from her nose and eyes. It caused her to choke and splutter.
“Amen,” she groaned as the affects took place.
Hub clenched her fists and the teleportional fields she had once used for transportation tore Glamour to shreds, trisecting the woman’s body. Hub had long ago been seen as the perfect assassin. Lady Deathstrike was brutal but Hub was stealthy and efficient when given any task. She had even killed her own President in order to start a full-scale war in her African home. If she felt remorse it was not shown on her taut face. All she presented was an acknowledgement of the horrors that would come. Hub was not evil, she was surviving and Nova had proven she was capable of providing that relief. Silently, Hub folded back into line behind Nova.
“Perfect. Now let them hunt.”
Morgana Vigneaux was propelled through the air as Banshee’s screams echoed from behind them. As Wicked she had been a heroine and a guard to the President on the island of Genosha but now she was a scavenger for the rebellion. Things had taken a turn for the worse that they now found themselves running for their lives. Her clothes were in tatters prior to the onslaught of the SHIELD agents but they were more so now. Coughing as she attempted to get to her feet she looked to her left, Salvé lay breathing heavily. He was an old man, frail and weak but he was also their only remaining medic. Morgana had to get him back or everyone they knew would die. She had to give them that chance.
“Ellsworth, get him back.”
Kevin Ellsworth, Freakshow, seemed to hear her but his face marked dissent. He had been her closest friend and ally, admiration of one another had only strengthened since they had learned what it truly meant to be a hero. Fighting for your life had a way of changing a person. Morgana knew he wouldn’t leave her so she had to make him. Her gothic appearance was quite a contrast to the sandy-haired boy with his fresh face and All-American good looks. Her heart pounded and she fluttered her eyes to hold back the tears. All three had been thrown into the foliage of the forest that bordered the
“If we don’t save him our people will die. It’s one of us or all of us. I’m your senior officer, boy. I’m pulling rank,” she gave a friendly smile as she said her goodbyes in a language only the pair could understand. Her husky tones turned into a hoarse whisper. “Run.”
“We’ll get them, Morgana.”
Morgana watched them shuffle into the forestry, Salvé in Freakshow’s arms. She was met with an army of Madri, Lady Deathstrike and Banshee who hovered in the air above them. It was a waltz to the death but Morgana would never die without a fight. She had watched her friends die because of the atrocities this Brotherhood had wrought on humanity. Their overkill had spilled into Genosha’s borders like a plague, affecting everyone that it touched. Wicked had her child ripped from her arms and shot, she had barely escaped with her life but she had ensured those SHIELD agents had paid for their crimes. Morgana was about to exact the same revenge on the Brotherhood of Tomorrow.
“You killed my friends. You killed my husband. You killed my child,” muttered Wicked as she walked out to meet them. “You killed so many just as a tremor through the air from the atrocities you committed. Every death has an echo, and every death remembers why they died. I know. They’ve told me, and now they’d like to tell you.” Spectres shimmered to life, clawing their way through the sand as the woman’s eyes narrowed and she let out a small growl. It was like nothing she had ever done before, Morgana felt every soul on the island fighting its way back onto the earthly plane, and the anger caused her power to overload as her nose ran red. Still, she held on.
Banshee hovered above as the spirits descended on his teammates. His eyes were focused only on the perpetrator of the attack. He saw nothing of right or wrong, he only saw death. It was posttraumatic stress disorder that had cost him his sanity after the bloody massacre of the Chicago-based X-Men. He had become a Wildman until Nova found him and used her power to make him obedient to her like she had so many others before him. Banshee was the latest in a long line of pawns but the skills she had desired had been lost, he was no longer a detective. He was just power. Banshee launched towards her with a scream but he flew to long and was caught by the wispy tendril of one of the ghosts that reached for him and pulled into the chaos. He crashed into the ground as they tore as his body. Banshee screamed as he collapsed into a crater, but the area was clear and he was bloodied.
The Madri were getting torn limb from limb as Lady Deathstrike shrieked in agony. Her mind forced Nova’s impressions away and she went berserker. Lady Deathstrike ran through the ghosts like an animal freed from its cage, her claws extended as she did all she could remember from her previous life – Morgana gulped as Lady Deathstrike’s claws ripped through her stomach and protruded from her back. She slumped forward until she was unceremoniously discarded by the Japanese mutant. Spectres once again faded from site as Banshee and Madri Prime struggled to recover from the attack, both overwhelmed by one girl’s raw power and casting glances back towards their unscathed leader.
“We’ve taken Genosha.”
“You accomplished very little, McCoy,” commented Nova. “Still, Pietro Maximoff has fallen but Lorna Dane is out there. As long as she lives so does this ridiculous rebellion. We’ll have to find a solution to that.”
Salem Centre, New York“You understand the need for caution I hope, Bishop.”
Domino’s gun remained trained on his temple as they moved through the hallways. It made the African-American mutant uncomfortable after what she had done to Magma on the grounds not far above their heads. Shadowcat marched ahead but following the instructions of the X-Men’s leader, she just gave them a path to follow. Apparently most of the subterranean rooms had fallen into disuse. Shadowcat had briefly mentioned that they had relocated to the War Room. Residence seemed to be on a shifting basis. Every step was expected to be yet another security precaution. It seemed that everything was covered except Domino seemed to have left her prime position. Magma’s body may not have been the only thing lurking in the woods.
“If you’re down here threatening to shoot me then who’s guarding the main levels?”
Domino gave some semblance of a smile. “I’m not going to shoot you unless you give me reason too. I have lives at stake if you go rogue and I don’t know where or when you’re from or where your allegiances truly lie in whatever reality.” She took a breath before answering the question he had asked. “We have Predator keeping guard. Shadowcat brought her up before she collected us. I know how to run my team, Bishop.” It was refreshing to see she was as defensive as ever.
Entering the War Room seemed to reveal the rest of the X-Men. He only recognised one of them and he couldn’t help but wonder had everyone else been killed over the years. It was a crashing moment of distress as he realised how desperate the situations in this world were but he found himself wondering what had happened to make the world this dangerous. His own reality had been a similarly divergent timeline but he had fixed it by returning to the past, and somehow despite his former technology he had managed to travel forwards in time once again. He wanted answers as he turned towards Domino but she looked as unforthcoming as ever.
“Douglock’s getting restless.”
Bishop furrowed his brow. “Who is Douglock? And restless for what?”
Domino replied as she left. “Dinner.”
“Mister Bishop,” came a southern drawl as he turned to face an attractive young brunette in her early twenties, but he failed to recognise her. It wasn’t Paige but there were elements of her in the mutant’s sallow features. It didn’t him long to get an answer as she saw the confusion on his face. “Sorry. It’s Melody Cabot. Ah was Aero with the X.S.E.”
“I’m sorry, kid. It must have been later in the reality I’ve come from.”
“Mah sister was a founding member,” she said with a small smile. “Ah joined with the other recruits. It wasn’t long after Nova’s attacks.”
Bishop leaned into Melody. “Can you give me some answers about what happened? I don’t even know why this world is in such disarray. Domino gave me nothing more than a death threat.”
“That’s Domino,” sighed Melody. “She wouldn’t like mah telling y’ what went on to get us here but I think y’ needa know, ‘specially if you’re plannin’ on stickin’ around indefinitely. It started with the X.S.E. It all began when Morales shot you during a press conference. Dissent was already on the increase but you had just returned to active service. Killing you so publicly turned a lot of mutants against the regime of peace that had been established but that wasn’t all. Your current X.S.E partner at the time was driven insane from the trauma she faced, Laurie Collins unwittingly became the first person to contract the resurgent viral absorbed by Legacy. Her powers proved to be badly matched with the disease.”
Melody paused.
“Laurie’s empathy caused all five boroughs of New York, human and mutant, to commit suicide in a single fell.”
Bishop’s mouth fell ajar. “You’re telling me the Legacy Virus empowered one young girl with the ability to force everyone in New York to commit suicide?”
“You were the beginning of the troubles but Laurie was the catalyst for Morales to take affirmative action. Nick Fury disappeared but it’s largely believed that she killed him for his position. She’s not an extremist like we’ve fought before. Human or mutant, she annihilates those she considers weak. Mutant sympathisers are her worst fear,” continued the Kentuckian. “I watched her set fire to a political protest of mutant sympathisers. Domino pulled me from the chaos as I watched my husband Abel burn to his death.”
Bishop continued. “So Morales created this. The woman chosen to lead the country into a new era led them into this hell? She’s so determined for her cause that she’s willing to kill her own kind. I knew she was ruthless and bigoted but this beats all of my already low expectations. This should never have happened. We should have seen this.”
“It’s too late to change the past; all we can do is hope to fix the future.”
“Bring me to Domino.”
“I can’t. She’s with Douglock.” Melody pleaded for him to retract his order, her eyes welled with the realisation that she had already challenged the very leadership of the woman who had saved her. Melody hadn’t wanted to be saved but she could only live as Abel would have wanted her too. She would find her opportunity to avenge him, and the X-Men were her only chance to do so. She stood as the last Guthrie. “I can’t go against her.”
Mortimer Toynbee, the former villain known as Toad, slipped forward with his tongue lashing wildly through the air after a fly. “I will. Just to let you see what’s honestly become of the X-Men, Bishop.” The Brit gave a condescending smirk.
Further East of Magda Square. GenoshaLorna Dane swirled the brown liquid at the bottom of her tumbler. “The End” had finally drawn itself to their already traumatised coasts. Cassandra Nova could be described as nothing more than a plague, but she was a fresh wound in the green-haired mutant’s side. Nova and her cronies had murdered one of the Rebellion’s scavengers and another, their chief medic, lay fatally injured from the unforeseen attack. Lorna blamed herself. It had been her who had spirited them out of the city under the cover of night all of those years ago and it was her responsibility to see that they made it to the brighter future they all hoped for. Losing contact with the X-Men had already suffered a blow to the Rebellion, a nickname they had given themselves in aide of their struggles against the oppressive regime. Now the bulldog was literally in their own backyard and that was harder to face than the fictional dangers that lay across a vast ocean.
Genosha would always be an asset. Pietro Maximoff had seen it once, as had his father before him, and now Nova recognised that sliver of opportunity. SHIELD agents had long ago been excised from the island; the mutants had tried to piece back their civilisation with various failures until they splintered into various cells and group around the island. Freakshow told of the admiral deaths of the X-Terminators, the distraction of Glamour and the sacrifice of Wicked. His tears had been uncontrollable as he related the last, he had returned to help her just as she was impaled. Lorna had sent him to mourn in the shadows; Layla Miller was awkwardly offering him comfort.
“This infection is getting worse by the second,” said Book, the mutant librarian and archivist of the President. Annika had begun to wonder why she had ever left her comfortable life in Austria to begin with but Lorna had been a kind leader to her, she had been a protector to them all when they had needed it. Before Nova’s arrival, warring clans had not been uncommon over the remaining rations and resources of the island and its capitol, Magda Square. “We’re going to lose him.”
“We can’t. He’s the only reason we can fight off sickness and starvation. Salvé is necessary to our survival,” Lorna pushed her hand across her forehead and caught her long green hair. She gulped the whiskey held in her other hand. Her purple costume clung tightly to her body and left little to the imagination. Domino, where are you when we need you? Lorna cursed the name of the woman who took control of the X-Men. They had requested immediate extraction and had never heard back. The Legacy Virus was quickly approaching. Some other clans had been taken ill already. Humanity was only one fear. “Make him comfortable, I need time to think.”
The woman formerly known as Polaris made her way down into the depths of the cavern she had personally excavated for their residence. She passed the crying Freakshow and the nervous Butterfly who continued to pat his back. She moved into what had become the base for all communications to find Broadband sat in silence. His ears attempted to hear what the machines said to him but he frowned so Lorna expected bad news. His silver skin shone with the broadcasts that echoed through his very nervous system. Technopathy was not a rare ability but the way in which it was intrinsically tied in his very nervous system made him all the more powerful. Lorna had asked him to mentally communicate and even hack into the X-Men’s databases or Cerebra if possible.
“Their machines have all kinds of precautions and they aren’t welcoming,” Broadband explained. “I got some incoherent babble about Domino speaking with a stranger. It looks like Bishop from what they said but he’s dead. I don’t think its likely Domino would foolishly allow in someone who could be an imposter. If anything she’s too cautious. The machines say she’s been killing everyone who contracted the Legacy Virus.”
She was quiet.
“Is this the end, Lorna?”
His expression was almost childlike and she saw the pain in his eyes. Lorna would not fail those who followed her. She moved to her feet and placed her hand on his shoulder with a remnant of what she would once have considered a smile. It had been so long since any of them had just cause to smile. Lorna could feel how tense he was, she could almost feel the fear in his magnetic spectrum. Broadband’s emotions had always been much more acute to the older woman. Wicked was dead, Salvé was dying and she would save someone if it killed her. Nova would not kill anyone else that she loved.
“I will fix this.”
SHIELD Helicarrier, New YorkMorales looked at those who stood gathered before her, ‘the Avengers’. It was Blindspot that she lingered on for a few seconds longer than the others. He was more to her than just another soldier, she understood the weakness and yearnings that this represented but she was still only human and she never wanted to completely forget that. She had managed to keep their secret liaisons just that and she quickly turned away again. Poison had been fed to her but she had foiled the subversive assailant’s plans. Trust was not something earned easily in her eyes, and the majority of those who stood before her could be on the edge of her acceptance. Morales was considered a dictator akin to Hitler and Mussolini in most of the civilised world but she considered herself to be a righteous crusader, only social grounds instead of the religious.
She did not suffer fools lightly. Morales always knew.
“Blindspot, if you would do the honours.”
Cassandra Lang collapsed to the ground, her arms falling awkwardly, as the blood soaked in her hair. Splatter marks stretched across the wall behind where she had stood. Stature was dead and Blindspot stood at the other end of a smoking gun, even behind his mask there was a clear smirk to be seen. Morales, on the other hand, looked nothing more than content with her decision.
