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Issue #8 |
Written By Tom Moses |
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The sun rises and sets often without notice from the mansion just outside Salem center. Days come and go usually without consequence, though the past few days have been far from ordinary. Members of the extended family inside go about their nightly activities as planned the day before. Many are gathered around the television, arguing over the next in a sequence of movies, while others move around the house on their business.
Doctor Cecelia Reyes is somewhat the newcomer to the group. Though she is no stranger to many of the faces she shares residence with, this doctor cannot help feeling alone as she marks her second hour testing blood samples taken from the pregnant telepath. Jean Grey-Summers had been a subject of much scrutiny these last two days. Orders from her husband, not to mention those of the brilliant colleague she shares the laboratory, and Xavier himself all press for these tests. The amount of stories they seem very willing to tell, about Jean's circumstances in the past, she didn't want to hear as it seemed to contradict the strict instructions Cecelia gave Xavier upon her return to the X-Men. No missions, no rhetoric, and no promises that will never be kept. Dr. Reyes had worked long and hard for a life she dreamed of, all of it was taken away with one instant and thanks to belonging to the fabled mutant underground.
The X-Men had ruined her life twice before, she wanted to make sure it would not happen yet again. The lack of medical expertise among the ranks of the underground prompted Xavier to send Drake to speak to her on his behalf, a move more than likely more positive than sending himself. She never wanted to be an X-Man herself, but to practice medicine whatever the circumstance was an opportunity that could not be missed. She had to admit a certain liking of Bobby Drake, though he was immature and usually the annoying one he was never the person that would be able to lie his way into or out of any situation. It was that basic honesty that prompted her return, if anything else he'd saved her life on several occasions and endangered it just the same, but there was no denying she was needed somewhere.
A test tube in hand, the test results would prove her own theories on the pregnant woman's safe travel concerns. Summers would never accept a simple opinion on any matter, specifically one that involved anyone that lived in this house. He was often seen as the stickler for the rules; the soon departing leader had his reasons for acting the way he did. Counting down the minutes on the wall clock several feet away from her, Cecelia saw she would be free from the lab within the half hour. However if the tests didn't hurry, she feared being stuck down there with the two occupying the room across from her. If she weren't quick enough, Reyes would surely be stuck trying to entertain Bobby with his childish sense of humor. The thought of the tables turning from peace and quiet into one barraged into lame jokes and loud conversation, she was nearly fearful over the length her patience would last.
Sharing a wall with the ever-disgruntled Doctor Reyes, Bobby Drake sat on an examination table bored out of his mind. Being held captive by a person typically thought as his best friend, Henry McCoy, Drake sought anything he could use to pass the time. Subjected to giving two blood samples of his own, and various other tests he wasn't sure if he could honestly say he ever wanted to go through again, he begins to doubt the reasoning he used to volunteer as Henry's test dummy.
"I've yet to find anything different from you're past record Bobby," the blue furred researcher says from behind a computer screen. "I must say I don't know where to start with this entire predicament."
Drake toys with a stethoscope Henry left close to the table, using it to listen to different things about his vicinity. "I don't know what to tell ya buddy," he says, "It's not like I've felt different because of this whole Omega thing."
"I have noted some very basic changes in your physiology before and the things I told you weeks before about your body temperature, eyesight, slowed organ function still stand constant." McCoy explains. "Based on the tests I ran weeks ago, everything is perfectly normal."
"Well isn't that weird." Drake asks, pretending to be interested. Listening to the sounds of his abdomen through the stethoscope much more than the words coming from his friends' mouth.
"Bobby, I'd appreciate this if you took this a little more seriously," sighs Henry "I've noticed certain things you have been able to do lately and they alarm me, you're powers seem to grow with an ease you never had before. Not to mention maintaining a core body temperature of fifty-three degrees, and an extremely slowed metabolic rate. Bobby these effects of your powers are beginning to worry me."
Disconnecting his interest from the medical device, Drake looks his friend in the eye as he speaks. "Hank, look man, I have been working on this whole ability thing for a while now maybe I just broke down a barrier or crossed like a plateau or something. My powers are growing.big deal."
"Yes your powers are growing in leaps and bounds. What worries me is the physical response to your control over the cold," he admits. "This entire situation doesn't worry you in the least, why is that?"
Jumping down from the table, Drake looked at the comparison chart printed by his friend. Only a difference of several months showed something alarming if he didn't expect to see something different about himself. "Buddy, the things that I've done since mine and Jean's experience with Prosh, I wouldn't worry about them all right. The whole amped power thing isn't as big a deal as you make it, trust me things are interesting now to say the least, but I can handle this."
The large center room on the ground level of the mansion sees a much more casual gathering. Surrounding the glow of a large screened television, the many other occupants sit in silence. Being the night of departure for two old friends, this family of friends strives to make it a positive mood as it can be.
Ororo Monroe sits beside her pregnant friend, opposite Jean's husband. The blue-skinned winged man - Warren Worthington - occupies an easy chair against the wall only a few feet from the sofa; he doesn't pay much attention to the movie however. Giving several mistrusting glances towards the recently released Jamie Madrox across from him, the tension in the room is thick enough to almost be visible.
A room adjacent to the one housing the TV sees something of a hurried meeting between two men. Alex Summers sits in the large dining hall summoned by the individual responsible for gathering the group; the wheelchair bound telepath Charles Xavier. Alex leans forward into the table, folding his arms with his eyes set on Xavier knowing him to have something important to discuss.
"So many things change, yet so many are always the same," Xavier beings.
A single nod of his head to show Charles he agrees, Alex can't help but let the stray thought slip through about the mentor's point and timing. "Everything seems that way at least," he says barely interested.
Xavier catches the thought of the younger man, smiling at the attempt to keep it in line. "Alex, you're a lot like your brother in several ways, but there is still something different about you since you're return that I cannot place my finger on."
"I'd tell you all about it, if I thought it would have importance, but you wanted to talk to me about something?"
His hands folded on his lap, Charles looks for the right words to continue. "With both Scott and Jean leaving, we seem to have a position open that needs a drastic fill."
"Go on."
"One cannot help but question the decision with the recentness of your return, Scott and I both feel that you are a suitable stand-in for leadership while your brother is away."
The younger Summers eyebrows rise in surprise, his eyes widening. Though days of speculation should have told him to have a different response, Alex cannot do anything against the flood of emotion. "This isn't part of a bullshit plan to entice Drake to take a larger hold of the group is it?" Alex says, unsure of why the topic comes up.
"Bobby has grown in many ways since returning to us, but there is still a long road ahead before we reach a point where anyone of us would be comfortable with him stepping into this kind of role." Xavier says, laughing away the comment. "In all honesty I was surprised when Ororo passed on the offer to return to the leadership, however she assures me that her heart is not in leadership as of now."
"And this is it?" Alex asks, nervously groping the stubble on his chin.
"I suppose you can say that yes." Xavier agrees, "Be careful Alex, this is not X-Factor, this is an entirely different group of people."
"I think I can manage Charles."
Distance is something of a funny thing to think about to someone on the opposite side of the world. Blazing high in the early morning sky, it wasn't a topic in the mind of the nighttime flyer at all except lately. Curious was he if the Americans were seeing the kinds of troubles he's seen since the televised death of Magneto.
Anti-Mutant sentiment had grown in an alarming rate since that time a few months ago. Shiro Yashada could almost hear the slurs from the people below, the people he dedicated his life to protecting, the people his government trusted him with protecting. Things were funny how they never seemed to change even with the different landscapes of the world. He expected such things to be heard while over places such as Tokyo, even his home of Hiroshima, almost anywhere else though he hoped Osaka would be a city different than those like so many others.
"Nothing ever changes." Shiro whispers as he flies onward.
Shiro tries to rid himself of the thought he could so easily incinerate them all, making life that much simpler. Such would be the easy way of dealing with the problem, but the humans cannot help the way they think they haven't the slightest idea the freedom one can feel at such a height. If the numbers were large enough, their thoughts would all be the same anyway, a lot like sheep in many ways.
Destroying any peace of mind Shiro hoped to find, he is suddenly thrown through the dark morning sky with a violent force and deafening noise. Pummeling to the ground he quickly turns to see a raging fire and numerous explosions to match the noise, his ears ringing at the ferocity of the explosions he forces himself to fly closer to the site. Debris fly at him at every direction, striking the shield of heated energy he constantly wears while he flies, a building within the mountain side continues to erupt, sounds of screaming victims caught in the onslaught pierce through the air.
Debris impact Shiro with a random punishment, he becomes frustrated at his inability to get close to the mountain as a stray piece is flown into his face. Rendered bloody and unconscious, the mutant known to many as Sunfire free-falls to the earth below.
The Yellow Cab inches away from the New York Mansion at the request of the passengers. A gathered crowd letting their goodbyes fade into empty momentum, the friends prepared better than they thought for the departure of two old friends.
One by one the crowd begins to dissipate, eventually leaving two men alone on the stoop. By al accounts, both men stay for their own reasons. The blond haired man with the wings folded against his back stares at the vehicle dropping away from a normal persons perception. His slightly younger friend only making sure the winged man knows his presence.
"You okay buddy?" Bobby Drake struggles to say.
"I'm fine, Bobby." Warren tries to assure his friend, turning to walk back inside.
A gigantic hand constructed of ice forms out of the seemingly thin air, halting the walking path of Warren Worthington. "I'm the last person you'd ever expect this from, I know, but you and I need to chat." Drake says, his hands within his pockets breathing calm as a mist exudes his frame. His presence taking an oddly commanding stance only a short distance from his friend. "Around back, at the lake and away from everybody else.lets go."
Shocked at the commands spouting from his friend, Warren drops his head and starts to unfold his wings. "No Drake, we don't have anything to talk about."
"Don't make this a big scene, War." The cold controlling mutant threatens, as a mist closes in around the feathered wings of Worthington. "You and I are going to talk about some things even if I haveta get Hank out here to sit on your back and pin your depressive ass to the ground."
Worthington turns his head sharply, trying to shake the forming frost from his wings. Facing Bobby, anger almost glows in Worthington's eyes; "You have no right to force me into anything!" He says grabbling hold of Drake's shirt collar. "You haven't a goddamn clue what I'm going through!"
Calmly, Drake looks up at the man whom holds his collar, his cold grey eyes staring at the ranting man. The act calmer than Drake would ever get credit for; he removes the blue tinted glasses from his head folding them into his shirt pocket. Aware of the spectators at the window, Drake forms a sheath of ice blocking the door ensuring no one to interrupt. "Try me pal," Bobby says, "You pretend everything is fine while you tear yourself apart inside.yeah man, I haven't a damn clue."
"Bobby, I didn't mean anything."
His almost trademark smirk on his face, "I know man, neither did I." Drake said, "I'm told the lake is pretty nice at this time."
"And who tells you this?"
"Nobody really, I just figure it was a good enough excuse."
A fire rages out of control on the other side of the world. Blood curdling screams mix with the piercing sound echoes of the mountainside explosions. Black smoke, dark as pitch, billows from the normally quiet industrial park, now nearly the entire complex overtaken by flames.
Shiro Yashada stands from a hard impact on the ground, the world spinning within his mind as he attempts to wipe the loose dirt from his face and hands. Careful not to aggravate the scrapes that burn his face much as the fire does the mountain. Three deep breaths calms the world about him, seeing the debris to be lessening the mutant takes flight again, willing his protective shield to compensate for the sheer heat of the flames.
It takes little this time to step foot where most men would never be able, the Japanese mutant is frantic. Screaming for anyone who might hear him within the heart of the fire. The silence gives way to fear in him; all around where the screams had poured into the air they had all but ceased while he lay unconscious.
His hands glow as the already heated air becomes super-heated around them, pushing forward an invisible force of heat that crushes the wall in front of him in upon itself. He makes way through two more walls in similar fashion; stopping dead in his tracks over a sight nothing could have prepared him for. In the distance he could hear foundations of more walls and ceilings giving way to the heat, several small explosions, but he is not able to turn his head from what he sees.
"Cages?"
Lining the wall he faces, perhaps a hundred at best guess, small cages fade in and out of the smoke. Some hang open, the doors torn from their hinges, others horribly intact for those bodies, which didn't make it onto the floor burned possibly alive in their cages. The odor of burning flesh begins to permeate the air mixing with curious chemicals. The smell is inescapable. He trips over body after dead body in his attempt to get out, the smoke is beginning to seep through the shield of heat he generates.
The television returns to the glow providing the picture of a rented movie somehow missed during the early part of the day. Four occupy this room now, larger than a typical den room, the room seems a bit larger minus the two friends recently gone. The silent calm enough to lull one to sleep doesn't last for long as the plot to the movie turns it somewhat into a love story much to the disdain of the two men in the room.
Missing from the departure the houses master travels in close company with the blond-haired man, a former missing friend turned field leader. Alex Summers drops his eyes as even he realizes the story pouring from the towering screen. "Aren't we missing a few people?"
"Bobby and Warren are outside." Ororo Monroe voiced.
"You mean to tell me I suffered through two hours of John Cleese running around looking for a damn cup and Drake gets away from watching the chick flick?" Alex asks a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Does anyone else find that difficult to believe."
"Alexn calm down," Jamie Madrox saysn his first words of the day.
Xavier places a hand on Havok's forearm, "Bobby had planned on talking with Warren after Scott and Jean left." He says. "It seems we've neglected our wealthy friends pain, I'm fairly concerned about the darkness I feel consuming him."
The setting sun provides a sky looking to be set ablaze. Fading light casts a reflection off the clear water of the lake, a near mirror duplication of the heavens above. Footsteps interrupt the serenity of the scene, as well as the growing sound of a pair of voices low and without the emotions spilling like before.
Warren Worthington the third, wealthy chairman emeritus of Worthington Enterprises and publicly known mutant, stops in front of the lake. Roughly a hundreds yards from the mansion the two friends knew their privacy would not be interrupted.
"Tell me something, War," the mutant oftentimes known as Iceman asks, "It's been almost three weeks since.well you know, why haven't you tried to talk to anybody?"
Warren picks up a handful of stones and starts to cast them into the water. "I don't know Bobby, I guess I'd just rather deal with this on my own you know?"
Molding himself a chair by freezing the ambient moisture from the air, Drake sits facing the back of his friend. "I don't think you're being completely honest," he says in his best mocker of the British accent.
"Not now Bobby."
Trying his best, and failing, to imitate a particularly noted psychiatrist he faintly remembers from the single class he took years ago, "We all know the subconscious tries to shield the conscious of the somethinanother, can you tell me vat yer childhood vas like?"
"I'm serious Drake," Warren mutters while forcing back his laughter
"Ver you breastfed as a child?" Drake continued his ridiculous imitation despite his friends repeated attempts to have him stop.
The laughter eventually breaks through his friend, "You still don't know when to quit Bobby."
"Yeah especially when people tell me."
Seeing Bobby comfortable as he was, Warren knew this chat wasn't going to be done anytime soon. He situates himself on the grass, adjusting his wings to prevent them from being sat on. "You know she hated it when you did that," he admits, "You always had your nose where it didn't belong."
Drake smiled, "Well someone has to keep those super secret ninja people in line, might as well be me," he said, forming discs of ice in his hand and skipping them across the waters surface. "C'mon man, Betts loved me."
"Nothing could be further from the truth." Warren argues, "More like tolerated you."
"Sure War, I'm sure if you weren't around and I wasn't babysitting Rogue when you two hooked up, and there wasn't that whole Scott thing, or not to mention the crush I think she had on Jean, but serious if it wasn't for like those ten or so people I coulda been in the picture."
"Bobby.what?"
His final disc leaving his hand, "Nothin man, I'm just talking nonsense."
Through the smoke filling the air, intermittent bursts of light pass through what would have been a stone ceiling. Shiro lunges into the air, clasping his hands together in a desperate act in order to get away from the death all around him. Sending a blast of heat upwards the roof shatters into minute pieces giving Shiro the freedom he searched for.
Flames shoot into the sky, the complex on fire now, beyond salvation. Looking to the east, Shiro see a portion of the complex untouched by the fire. Damaged from an explosion or two but in relative good standing. The mutant leaps higher into the air, using his hands to direct a constant blast of heat of his own creation he begins to dig a ditch separating the flames from the rest of the complex. Saving the Eastern most buildings with a waterless moat surrounding the perimeter.
"You there!"*
Shiro glances towards the voice that gained his attention as he descends from the air slowly. "Yes?"
"In this your doing Mutant?" the bigot asks with a finger jabbing Shiro's chest.
"Don't be absurd." the mutant replies with a confidence ebbing from his voice enough to convince anyone who may ask him the same question. "I patrol this area as mandated by our government."
"I apologize.I saw what you could do when you flew through the air, I assumed."
"That's your problem. You humans always assuming everything before you know what is really going on." Sunfire turns his back to the fire chief, watching as the fire crew on hand quickly extinguish the collateral fires started from the many explosions.
"Do you have any idea how this happened?"
"I'm not certain," Shiro began, suddenly fixated on a tile he steps on. Charred ceramic decorated with a letter 'X' "though I do have some old acquaintances that may be able to help me with that answer."
"Anything you would have us do?"
"Stay on the scene for a few more hours, an explosion we may not have counted on may start another fire like the one we have just witnessed. If you could post your men around the perimeter and prevent anyone from entering, but no one is to pass across that barrier."
"Yes sir."
*Translated from the Japanese
