X-Men

#92

April, Year 5

Atomic War!

Prelude

"What We Have Here Is Failure to Communicate"

Brought to you by Stephen Crosby

For several months now, the city of Boston had been a city dividing amongst itself. Smoke still billowed from the ruins of numerous buildings, many of them schools and churches. Twice, the National Guard had been sent in to quell the fighting. Twice, the National Guard had been turned away.

Hatred thrived in Boston.

"Welcome to X-Factor, the Super-Channel Network's forum for discussion of mutants. I'm your host, Neal Conan. Tonight, my guest is Professor Charles Xavier, world-renowned geneticist and mutant rights activist. Professor Xavier, welcome."

Hovering over Boston, cloaked from all forms of detection, hung the sleek Blackbird jet. It ran on auto-pilot, it's confines empty. Those it transported into Boston were in the city, fighting to keep the peace.

"Thank you, Neal. I would like to take this opportunity to offer my condolences to the Network for the tragic and callous assault on Ms. Trish Tilby. I consider her to be a dear friend, and I pray for her quick and complete recovery."

Several shelters no longer serve the homeless. Recently, they had come to take in all those affected by the fighting. Those who were wounded. Those who were made homeless by the destruction of their neighborhoods. Children who were orphaned.

A man walked amidst the wounded and those tending to them, doing his part. He walked on two-toed feet, holding water and bandages with three-fingered hands. His eyes, while gentle, were a deep and terrifying yellow, and his smile revealed pairs of fangs. But his demeanor was non-threatening, helpful, and slowly those around him feel no fear. He was there to help them.

He tended their wounds, reciting prayers to heal their souls as well as their bodies. He told them that God loved them all, and that He was saddened to witness the hatred in men's hearts. The wounded, the homeless, and the children believed him. They were comforted by his presence.

"On behalf of the network, professor, I thank you. Tonight, our topic is the so-called Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. This team of mutant terrorist has been through a number of incarnations over the past ten years. First formed under Magneto, they were simply an extension of his own goals for world domination. Later, they were reformed under the mutant shape-shifter Mystique, and made their debut attempting to murder Senator Robert Kelly. This incarnation of the Brotherhood was later granted immunity for their crimes, in exchange for operating under government authority as Freedom Force. The third, and most recent incarnation, is arguably the most well-known yet also the most little known. Their activities have cause widespread damage to the island-nation of Genosha and to the city of Boston. However, almost nothing is known this organization. Their exact membership, and their motivations, remain a mystery. Professor Xavier, as a known authority on mutants, what can you tell us about this deadly new Brotherhood of Evil Mutants."

It was hard for him to put the fires out. Though his power was to create cold, to create ice, the flames around him were so strong. And there was so little water. Still, he tried his best. He lowered the temperature around the flames, around the buildings. But despite the cold, the flames still licked away, they still fed. But they at least slowed, and he continued to try.

Water was all around him, in the very air he once had to breathe. Wrapped as he was in the comforting embrace of ice, frozen, he did not require air or food. But he still needed water, and he reached out for it. He tried to remember his lessons about meteorology, about precipitation and humidity and barometric pressure. He figured if Ororo can make it rain, then somehow he might be able to. He just had to make the temperature just right, and in just the right places.

He tried, and he had yet to succeed. Perhaps if all those people weren't around, trying to throw things at him. Perhaps if he didn't have to waste so much effort on a shield, to protect himself.

"The only thing I for certain, Neal, is that the name is fitting. The actions of these mutants are nothing short of evil. They have killed thousands with little or no explanation, and have inciting riots in both Genosha and Boston, resulting in more deaths. They claim to be fighting for mutant rights, acting in defense of mutants everywhere. Among those attacked in Genosha was Dr. Henry McCoy, a mutant, and a very close friend of mine."

"I couldn't agree with you more, professor. However, they have issued several statements proclaiming their justification. One claim is that Dr. McCoy was a traitor to mutants, and that a cure to the Legacy Virus in his hands was no safer than if it were in a human's hands."

"That is simply untrue, Neal. I have known Dr. McCoy for many years. He is a dedicated doctor, and a good person. Furthermore, Dr. McCoy had lost friends to the Legacy Virus. His resolve to find a cure was never in question, and there is no doubt in my mind that he would have used a cure responsibly and without prejudice."

In the initial attacks, churches had been burnt down. Churches of the Christian religions. As in many conflicts, religion was swiftly made a factor. It hadn't been long before Muslim mosques and Jewish synagogues were attacked. Angry and scared me battered down the doors, and proceeded to destroy anything they saw.

Like a ghost, the lithe young woman passed through the rioters. The bats, knives, fists and other weapons had no effect on her. She was a living ghost, impervious to everything that she came up against. It was a dance, the way she moved amongst the rioters. She may as well have been alone, dancing for her own amusement. The presence of the rioters did not appear to affect her in the slightest.

But it did. Their presence, in that sacred synagogue, with the intent of destroying that temple of worship, angered her. She knew that she shouldn't. That it went against orders. But she did it anyway.

Shadowcat took the rioters down violently.

"Forgive me, Professor, but I have to ask. What was your opinion of the Dover Trial several months ago, and of its ramifications?"

"The day that verdict was issued...was a sad day for the criminal justice system. It set a dangerous precedent for the defense of justifiable homicide. Self-defense had always applied to immediate threats. Take that away, and you have anarchy."

"Like the current situation here in Boston?"

"Sadly, this was predictable. Look at the rioting after the Rodney King verdict. Cases such as these, they appeal to the hatred in people, in their need to lash out."

"Still, there can be no question that these riots are the direct result of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Mayor Menino was personally attacked by their leader, the Toad. Do you agree with their actions?"

"I will never agree with the murder of innocent people in the name of hate. While I understand their anger, the actions of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants are wrong, and I urge the mutant community not to follow their example."

Soaring over the city of Boston, he wanted to hurt somebody. Rioters were looting stores, setting fires, attacking anybody they came across. He wanted to hurt them, wanted to hurt all of them. His wings itched with the desire to inflict death.

They deserved it, he knew. One of their own had killed a mutant in cold blood, and they all had turned a blind eye to it. Well, they had learned the consequences of their inaction. Pain. Suffering. Death.

Archangel could turn a blind eye as well. He would not hurt the humans. But orders be damned, he would not aid them either.

"My apologies, professor, but how can you understand the anger mutants feel?"

"Because, Neal, like all mutants I am also a human being. Like the young men and women of X-Force, I have lost loved ones to violence, and seen their killers go unpunished. But I am here to say that attacking hate with hate is not the answer. Only through compassion and trust can we move past tragedy and learn to live with one another."

People were fighting. People were hating. People were dying. Piotr Rasputin did not want violence, but he was so angry. He'd been angry when he heard about the death of Tabitha Smith, a young woman he'd barely known. He'd been even angrier to hear that her killer had been found non-guilty.

Because Piotr was so angry, he did not dare change into his form of organic-steel. Had he acted on his anger, in his steel form he could have seriously injured or even killed somebody. And despite his anger, Piotr did not want to hurt anybody. All he ever wanted to do was help people, and to paint.

That is why Piotr wasn't fighting to protect anything, or help the wounded or work to repair damage. Instead, Piotr was in Boston's Historical District, painting. Among Piotr's favorite works of arts were renditions of historic periods. In a museum, he had been captivated by a painting of the worker revolts in Russian, before the rise of Communism. Piotr had also seen paintings from the time before the American Revolution, depicting the Boston Tea Party and the Boston Massacre.

Standing before a large blank wall, his canvas, Piotr dipped one of his brushes into a can of paint. The area was largely deserted, Piotr went unnoticed. He hoped that it would remain the case, until he was finished.

"Excuse me, we have just received a caller asking to join in the discussion. Professor, do you mind?"

"Another point of view would be welcome, Neal."

"Ladies and gentlemen, on the phone we have with us the self-proclaimed leader of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, Toad."

"Hello, Chuck. How are you enjoying Boston?"

"Mortimer, you know that what you're doing can only hurt the mutant cause-"

"Only if mutants play by human rules. By the rules of human civilization. Heh, humans don't even play by their own rules. A poor little girl, shot dead by a crazed vet, and humans turned a blind eye because the girl was a mutant. Not that I'll shed any tears for a thief and a whore."

"Mortimer, antagonizing humans will only make things worse for the mutants you claim to protect-"

"Since when have I claimed to protect any mutants? I'm only out to protect myself, and the same with my pals. We aren't a charity, Chuck, like you and your 'school'. Any mutant wants to be safe from humans, they should use their powers to make themselves safe!"

"Toad, are you declaring, on national television, for mutants worldwide to resort to violence?"

"Well, that would be breaking the law, wouldn't it, Neal? One mutant is worth a thousand humans. If all the mutants in the world decided to cut loose at the same time, the human population would drop quite a bit. That is what I want!"

There must have been nearly a thousand people in Boston's Historic District, watching the painting in progress. Heroes were depicted, larger than life characters who were somehow made more real through the talent of Piotr Rasputin. Emotion and humanity showed through in their poses, their expressions. Sprinkled amongst the colorful heroes were others, regular men and women in uniform. By contrast, these regular people appeared larger than the costumed heroes around them, more important and heroic in some way.

But sprinkled among the heroes and costumed adventurers, there were those that just didn't fit. People with imperfections, big and small. Whether they were bald or had large ears or were slightly overweight, or had bluish skin or a third eye or gills on their neck, there were their, and portrayed as human.

Then the bottles and rocks started flying.

"War is never the answer, Mortimer-"

"Don't you dare call me that again! That is my human name, given to be by human parents who cast me out the moment they saw me! My true name, my mutant name, is Toad. I cast out no one, whatever their flaws and weaknesses. I protect the oppressed, the ones that are ridiculed and assaulted."

"Protecting them? Protecting them from what? Who did you protect when you threw Hammer Bay into the ocean, or crashed planes landing into Boston? All you're doing is promoting a fear and hatred that would otherwise be nonexistent."

"Nonexistent? I had nothing to do with Meltdown getting shot."

"That might not have happened had that man not heard of events in Genosha. He could very well have believed Boston was next."

"Heh, ironic that it was."

There was a cut on the back of his head from a large rock. The bottles broke against the wall, smudging the wet pain and covering the ground with glass. Piotr did nothing to protect himself, however. He was not there to fight. As the mob slowly advanced, Piotr continued to paint.

"Violence begets violence begets violence. The actions of the Brotherhood have consequences. You think to cow humanity into line, but it's having the opposite effect. Look at our history. We are never ones to lay down in the sand."

"'Our history?' 'We'? Don't you dare include me with those worthless evolutionary geezers! Or are you trying to include yourself, Professor X...."

"My point is that violence is never the answer. Our common goal is peace. Peace for mutants. Peace of humans. Peace between both human and mutants. That can never be achieved with violence."

They beat him. Their fists pounded down against him. Their legs kicked at him. Piotr could have defended himself from these attacks, could have transformed his body to organic steel that would have been invulnerable. But he didn't. He took the blows against his frail body. He did these because, for all the pain they caused him, the real hurt came from the words.

"Mutie lover!"

"Bet he's really a mutie freak!"

"Not so tough now, are ya!"

"Where are your mutie friends! We'll get them too!"

Piotr had no real way of defending from these verbal assaults. Even if he had steel flesh to protect from the physical pain, the words would still sting at him. Worse, he could lose his temper, could hurt the people around him. And Piotr did not want to hurt anybody. All he'd wanted to do was paint.

Then, through the hateful words, Piotr started to hear the sounds of screaming.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm now being told of a new development in the Boston riots. One of our cameras is on the scene, strangely enough without a cameraman. We're now going to the live footage."

He floated over the crowd, his purple cape billowing out behind him. Magneto. The Master of Magnetism. Every bit the king of the mutant race, Magneto stared down at the crowd that had dared to harm one of his subjects. The camera panned in on his face, focusing on the red rage within his eyes.

Many of those in the crowd did not see Magneto. They only felt his power. The raw magnetic power that gripped the iron in their blood, making it rush faster and faster through their brains. The pain was unbearable, and they knew not from where it was coming.

Spreading his arms, Magneto forced the crowd to part from Piotr Rasputin. Then there was sorrow in Magneto's eyes, pain at seeing one of his own in such pain. With a gesture, Magneto took the metal, the energy that was a part of Piotr, and amplified it. There was a flash of energy, and it was no longer Piotr who lay there. Rather, it was a large man of metal, the mutant Colossus. Though his steel form weighed in excess of five hundred pounds, Magneto's power took the burden effortlessly, hefting Colossus up over the crowd.

With his passenger in tow, Magneto raised himself higher and higher into the sky. He passed over the sun, shrouding his form in a brilliant silhouette. The image was then gone, the camera Magneto appropriated having been shut off.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have just witnessed, live, the mutant Magneto intervening to save the life of what was apparently another mutant under attack. Professor Xavier, what are your thoughts on this latest development?"

"In spite of the many crimes he has committed, I have never doubted Magneto's sincerity when it came to protecting mutants. He is himself a Holocaust survivor, and his greatest fear is that mutants will suffer through similar atrocities. Although I am surprised that Magneto was so restrained in dealing with the mob, I am glad that he did so."

"Do you fear that this is only the beginning? That Magneto could involve himself further in the situation at Boston?"

"It is possible that Magneto might intervene further to protect mutants under attack, but I don't foresee anything more. The treaty between himself and Canada forbids him from taking extreme actions. As it is, the United States government could use this opportunity to place pressure on Canada to revoke the treaty. I would also imagine that SCN could attempt to charge Magneto with the theft of a camera, if they liked."

"Somehow I don't think that will happen. Toad, you've been unusually quiet during all this. Do you have any thoughts on Magneto's actions? Toad? Well, apparently we've been cut of."

The chair crashed against the wall, just barely missing Pyro's head. The mutant was clad in his new uniform, a black, flame-retardant material that covered him from head to toe. His eyes were protected by a pair of goggles, while a breathing mask covered his mouth and nose to protect from smoke. One Pyro's forearms were a number of cylinders sewn into the uniform, all containing propane. Tubes from the containers ended at small nozzles located at the top of each of Pyro's hands. As he'd ducked from the chair, Pyro clenched his right fist. A small flame shot from the nozzle, and Pyro immediately used his mutant ability to seize control of it. Fueling the fire with his psionic energy, Pyro shaped the flame into a long blade.

"Crikey, Mort, that almost hit me!"

Growling, Toad's tongue shot out of his mouth towards the table. It wrapped around one of the legs, and with a flick of a muscle the table was hurled at the kitchen stove. Pots were sent crashing to the floor, spilling out vegetables and roasts. Toad glared at Pyro.

"My name isn't Mortimer!"

"What did you do to my roast!" Blob cried out from the kitchen doorway. Besides a sweat suit, the large, large mutant wore an apron with the words, "Two Fat Ladies is Nothing!" written across the front. "That was supposed to be my second lunch!"

Snatching one of the roasts with on hand, Toad hurled the meet at Blob. "Then eat, chubby! A little dirt shouldn't mean a thing."

Hearing the cursing and the crashing going on, Unuscione rolled her eyes at Avalanche. "Looks like you won't be having a practice session today. Somebody's liable to get killed in there."

Craning his neck to look into the kitchen, Avalanche grimaced. His uniform, like Pyro's, also consisted of form-fitting black cloth, though with armor over most of it. The 'A' over the chest was gone, leaving the space blank. The uniform was designed to absorb vibrations, and to protect Avalanche from the side-effects of his own powers. "What's Toad so upset about, anyway? Magneto showed up in Boston. He basically endorsed what we did."

Unuscione shook her head. "Didn't you recognized the guy Magneto saved? It was Colossus."

"So? The big guy's known for always trying to convert the X-Men. I hear Colossus joined up with him once."

"Yeah, he did," Unuscione said. "Colossus was an Acolyte, and several times he saved Magneto's life. Now Magneto just returned the favor."

Avalanche nodded. "Oh, some sort of prodigal son kind of thing? Damn, no wonder Toad's pissed. All those years he was Magneto's whipping bo-augh!"

A tongue whipped around Avalanche's neck and pulled him off the chair. Lying on his back, Avalanche saw Toad standing over him, staring down at him.

"I'm not pissed," Toad snarled. "I'm sad. This is my sad face, see? I've been betrayed. Do you know how many years of my life I gave to Magneto? All the ridicule and abuse I suffered? All the times he left me behind? Do you have any idea what the Stranger did to me when he'd learned Magneto had left!"

Hopping up onto the fireplace, Toad crouched down and looked at Unuscione. "You should understand. Magneto abandoned you too. And what does he do, while we're acting? While we're fighting for what he wants? Does he speak out in support? No! Instead, he saves one of the enemy! He allows humans to live, after they assaulted one of our own!"

Breathing heavily, Toad glanced about, his eyes darting. "I've done everything for him, and he's turned his back on me. On us. If Magneto won't fight for mutants, the burden falls on us alone."

"What do you intend to do?" Martinique Jason, Mastermind, appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Behind her stood Mountjoy. Vanisher had also appeared, floating and flickering in mid-air. In the doorway stood Pyro and Blob. Avalanche had risen to his feet, and Unuscione rose from her chair.

Toad licked his lips. "Even after all that we have done, humans dare to attack mutants. They know the consequences of their actions. Boston was only the warning. For ignoring our warning, we shall set the world on fire, and cull the human race to extinction!"

Mountjoy grinned. "What about the X-Men, though? And Magneto?"

Toad snarled. "If Magneto doesn't stand with us, then he is against us. I'll enjoy every second that I make him beg." Then he began rubbing his hands. "As for the X-Men, it's time to stop playing. We've trained against them, we've studied them, and it's time to destroy them. And not just the current team. We'll hunt them down one-by-one, remove them as a threat. I don't want to play, like I did with McCoy. I want them all dead!"

Toad was screaming at that point. "No prisoners! In a war, you don't take prisoners! Not humiliated! Not made to look foolish! Dead!"

They met on the outskirts of Boston, on one of the numerous hills surrounding the city. Archangel was the first to find Colossus, no longer in his steel form and showing signs of his injuries. As he landed, Warren snorted with derision.

"What do you have, Peter, some lacerations? Broken bones? If Magneto hadn't arrived, you would have been dead. You didn't even turn steel to defend yourself."

Lying on the grass, Colossus wore bandages over many of his wounds, and a splint on his left arm. His chest was also wrapped. He didn't say anything to Archangel. He just looked up at the clouds.

Archangel fidgeted his wings as he looked about. "And where is Magneto? What, he saved your life, tried to recruit you into his new Avalon, and left you here when you refused? Of did he just abandon you when he saw what a pussy you'd become?"

Still, Colossus said nothing. Archangel snarled.

"I hovered around after I saw Magneto leave with you. Do you know what that mob did to your painting? To you nice little mural of peace and harmony? They tore it down. They took the torch to it, and nothing remains. You had the best intentions, Peter, but you didn't accomplish a damn thing. And for your troubles, they tried to kill you! That's what cowering like a little baby will - wunph!"

In a burst of smoke and the stench of brimstone, Nightcrawler teleported between Archangel and Colossus. His leg was out, and struck Archangel full in the chest. The winged mutant went crashing onto his back. Nightcrawler glared down at him.

"Nien, Warren! I will not stand by and listen to your rage. You stayed away because you were afraid of losing control, of hurting people. Peter acted the way he did for the same reason. I will not let you call him down for it!"

Standing back onto his feet, Archangel spread his wings wide and glared back at Nightcrawler. "Actually, I stayed away because I didn't want to help those murderers. And if I didn't know Xavier would frown at me and worm his way into my mind, I would have gladly made them all suffer! That entire city stood by when Tabitha was murdered! They deserved what the Brotherhood did!"

His eyes narrowed in anger, Nightcrawler took a step towards Archangel. He stopped, however, when he realized that he could see his breath. Over Archangel's head, Nightcrawler saw the long bridge of ice rapidly coming towards them. As Iceman passed by, Shadowcat leaped off the bridge and landed beside Colossus. A moment later, Iceman was on the ground beside Nightcrawler. The bridge of ice and ringed around the five X-Men, creating a frozen barrier.

"Hey, what's all this hostility about?" Iceman asked lightly. "Come on guys, we've lost too many members. We can't spare these little spats, fun as they may be."

"Shove it, Bob," Archangel said roughly. "Grow up and come on into the real world. A few jokes won't make everything go away. When a mutant-hateful nut gunned down Tabitha, this city circled it's wagons around injustice. What Toad and the others did was justice. We're wasting our times trying to help a city that would only stop killing itself when it's trying to kill mutants."

"It was the Friends of Humanity who rigged the trial, Warren," Nightcrawler replied. "We all know that. Those people down there had nothing to do with it."

"Have you read the papers, Kurt," Shadowcat said from behind him. "I'm sorry, but the press went from loving Tabitha to crucifying her in a matter of days. Those...those hate mongers never would have made it into the courtroom without help from inside the system."

There were tears in Shadowcat's eyes. Colossus looked at her with disappointment and pity in his eyes. Archangel smiled and nodded.

"Exactly, and let's not ignore the fact that we discovered who was behind the trial after only hours of investigating. Cable was in the courtroom! The man's supposed to be a soldier, trained to spot the enemy, and he was pathetic!" Archangel crossed his arms. "If those kids had just gone to us for help..."

"I would have refused, on the grounds that they were a political liability. And the Shadow King would have made sure you all would have followed my orders." The mental voice of Professor Xavier struck with no warning, and Archangel was visibly pained by the sudden sensation. "While Cable was indeed lacking, he was, sadly, the only one that X-Force could have turned to."

Iceman nodded, grudgingly. "It's not something I'd like to admit, but I know my head was...muddled, at the time." Turning to see the city in the distance, he sighed. "We can still do something, though. Maybe if we expose what the Friends of Humanity did, a new trial could be appealed. Double jeopardy couldn't possibly apply."

Nightcrawler waved his arm towards the city. "Would any judge want to risk a repeat of that? If we press the issue further, any decision could light a spark. Professor?"

"Kurt is right. This situation was handled badly, and unfortunately there is nothing we can do to remedy is. Even the riot is beyond our capabilities. We can only wait for other opportunities, find situations in which we can actually do good. We will discuss things more at the mansion."

Archangel pressed his fist into his other hand. "Will this involve Toad and his Brotherhood? I really want somebody to hurt."

Standing around Archangel, none of the other X-Men protested. In truth, they all shared his sentiments. The professor made his own known with two words.

"It will."

Rachel Summers awoke from her slumber with a crying, sitting bolt upright in her bed. Sweat covered her head, and the sheets were damp with it. Before Rachel could try to recall the dream that she'd just had, a pair of comforting arms took hold of her.

"Shh, it's alright now, Ray." Rachel recognized the voice, but it was older than it should have been. At least, she remembered hearing the woman when she was much younger, younger even than Rachel was. It was the voice of a mother figure. "It was the dream again, wasn't it?"

"No," Rachel replied. "I mean, I can't really remember what it was about. There was all this fire, and shadows and..." Closing her eyes, Rachel pressed her hand to her forehead. "Lost it. I feel that it was very important, but I just can't..."

The woman stroked Rachel's hair soothingly. "Don't strain yourself. It'll come when it comes. The harder you try to grasp it, the more it will slip away." Releasing Rachel, the woman rose and smiled. "Now come on. Logan returned what we needed. Peter and Ororo are already with him now. They're just waiting on us."

Recognizing the woman at last, Rachel Summers gasped in surprise and terror. Suddenly, she realized that she was not lying on a bed, but rather a pile of rags and paper. Instead of her hotel room in Paris, Rachel was in her old room, underground. And the woman standing over her....

It was Kate Pryde-Rasputin.

With a cold feeling in her gut, Rachel feared that it was all a nightmare. She'd never gone to the past, never worked with the X-Men, never helped to form Excalibur, never went to the far future to create the Askani order and help Nathan.

Rachel was still in her present. The Days of Future Past.