Autumn had just begun, yet in Alaska winter had set in deep. Visible bursts of warm air escaped through Scott's mouth as he exhaled, then he shivered as freezing cold air was breathed into his lungs. Though his clothes were insulated for the environment, it still felt to Scott as though his bones were ice. Not for the first time, Scott wished that he still had one of his old X-Men uniforms, which had been specially designed for comfort in all climates.
Having just passed over the hill, Scott saw his home a short distance away. The mile-long trek between the quaint residence and the charter airline which Scott worked for was difficult at times, but by car the trip was even longer. After a hard snowfall, travel on the roads was impossible. A snowmobile would make the journey easier, but Scott and Jean were saving their money for the time being, not spending it on unnecessary luxuries. After the baby was born, Scott would want to spend as much time at home as possible, and then the snowmobile would be a necessity.
Shaking the snow off his boots, Scott opened the door. "Jean? I'm home!" Depending on what flights they had on any given day, Scott's hours at the airline varied, particularly when clients were late or cancelled altogether. So, sometimes Scott would be late, or surprisingly early. That day, it was one of the former. Scott was supposed to have flown back in early that morning. But, because of a late night drinking binge by his clients, the plane took it at nearly the time it was supposed to have landed, and so it was well into mid-day when Scott returned home.
Jean had sounded understanding though, when he'd called shortly after the scheduled take-off time had come and gone. She'd just finished one of her regular appointments, and everything was still great. They were both optimistic that they're daughter would be born on time, with no complications.
A daughter. Despite anything Rachel had said, Scott knew that it was her Jean carried. They're daughter would be born, would actually exist. Scott, Jean, and Rachel would live out their days in Alaska, free of the difficulties that plagued most X-Men. No matter what, Scott had sworn to never return to that life. Jean was the only thing in his life now. Jean, and the baby.
Jean, who hadn't called out in reply to Scott's arrival.
"Jean?" Scott called out again, this time with a worried tone. Because of the pregnancy, Jean's natural abilities of telepathy and telekinesis and diminished greatly. At such a late stage, even the close psychic bond that she and Scott shared was closed off. At first, Scott had been grateful for the relief. But now, it killed him not knowing.
Near the door Scott had entered from, there was a small table with one drawer. Scott opened that drawer, and removed a visor with a ruby quartz lens. The same material that Scott's glasses were composed of. With his eyes closed and in one smooth motion, Scott removed these glasses and placed the visor over his head. The control mechanisms were so fine that all Scott had to do was widen his eyes slightly, and the visor would open. Then Scott's own natural but uncontrollable ability to discharge concussive force from his eyes would be unleashed.
Cautiously, Scott crept down the hall towards the kitchen. Twice, he'd called out, and Jean hadn't answered either time. The garage door had been closed, so Scott had no way of knowing if the car was inside or not, and he hadn't thought to look through the windows. If she was home, there were only three possible reasons she hadn't replied.
Jean had fainted or passed out. There was something wrong with the baby.
Jean was just taking a nap, up in the bedroom with the door closed.
There was somebody else in the house.
Scott hoped, prayed, that it was the second possibility. Or that Jean was out with the car, getting groceries or running some other errands. She hadn't known exactly when he'd be back, after all. Please, don't let there be anything wrong.
"Jean!" The cry had been more pronounced, dripping with deep emotion. The kitchen was empty. Scott continued down the hall towards the living room. As he searched with his senses, Scott pressed on the mental link he shared with Jean. Even with the pregnancy weakening her powers, there still had to be something. He had to sense something.
A peek around the corner, into the living room. Nothing but the walls, the floor, and the furniture. All in red tones. That was all Scott could see the world in, because of the ruby quartz visor. Frustrated, Scott turned towards the stairs. The visor wasn't as advanced as that one he'd worn while in the X-Men. Circuitry had been woven into that visor to enable infrared scanning and a microwave feed to Cerebro. With that visor, Scott would have been able to see so much more-
"Peek-a-boo."
The voice was behind Scott, coming from the living room that had been empty a second ago. With a hand raised to his visor, Scott whipped around. More than that, Scott recognized the voice. Even before he had a visual, Scott opened the visor. A beam of crimson force shot across the living room.
The latest visitor to the Summers home was prepared however. Toad held a pane of red glass in front of him, made from ruby quartz. Upon contact with it, Scott's beam dissipated into harmless light. Worse, the pane of glass was hurtling towards Scott. He instinctively raised his arms to push the glass away, and as it shattered against the hard wooden floor he realized too late the distraction.
A leaper's hand snatched the visor from Scott's head. From the moment Scott's mutant power manifested, he'd trained himself to immediately close his eyes upon losing that protection. His second mistake, Scott realized, as he next felt a warm, sticky fluid splash against his eyes.
"Ahh!" Scott cried, falling against the wall but managing to remain on his feet. It wasn't so much pain that made Scott cry out, but rather that it was so brief. As quickly as the burning had begun, it had then passed, leaving only a numb sensation. Paralysis, that was what the Toad's secretion caused. More specifically, paralysis in the muscles that controlled Scott's eyelids.
Scott Summers could not open his eyes. They were clenched tight, leaving not so much as a hair of an opening. Worse, Scott was blind.
A sharp pain arrived on Scott's arm. The spinning kick sent him crashing to the floor. Pouncing, Toad was on Scott the second after, his strong and long legs pinning Scott's arms by the wrists. Scott could feel the poisoned breath of Toad mere inches from his face. It wasn't so bad that Scott couldn't detect the presence of another person breathing in the room.
"Can you hear me now?" Toad asked Scott in a loud tone. "Well, if you can't hear me, can you see me? Heh, that's right. You're blind. Used to have one eye, though, didn't you? While you were leading all those blind dreamers? Heh, bet you were like a king, then."
The other person was moving closer. Scott heard a faint click of high-heels, and knew that it was a woman. His head must have shifted slightly, because Toad gave a sigh.
"He knows you're here," he told the woman. "Leave. I want the golden boy's undivided attention."
No response from the woman. Scott realized he couldn't even hear her breath. An illusionist? Was that how Toad had managed to surprise him?
A quick slap across the face, and Scott's mind stopped wandering. It had only stung a little. Toad hadn't put much behind the blow. Only enough to have Scott's undivided attention. And Scott gave it to him.
"What have you done with my wife?" Scott demanded in a direct tone. This was answered only with another slap.
"I could be having the kid cut out of her while she watched, for all you'd be able to do about it," Toad snarled. "Not that I would. But I could. And well, maybe I would, if you asked me another question. Any questions?"
Scott didn't ask anything. Like it or not, he was at the madman's mercy. Somehow, Scott could swear he sense that Toad was smiling.
"Good puppy. That's what you were to Xavier, right? His little puppy, always following him around and yip-yip-yapping at anybody that threatened him. Yip-yip! Yip-yip! Fetch doggy! Stay! Lick yourself! Go protect a world that fears and hates you! Come to me, my little puppy! Hahahahahaha!"
The punch to Scott's face came as a complete surprise.
"Bad puppy! You run away from master! You run away with bitch to lay puppies! You know what happens to dogs that can't keep it to themselves?"
Scott felt something wet and slimy against his face, and prayed that it was Toad's tongue.
"Maybe instead of snip-snip-snipping, I'll tie them up tight and watch them fall. Heh, I was so happy when mine fell, until I found out that I was so ugly I'd never get to use them! Me, a virgin! And here you are, a dog that bones it with every bitch he finds!"
Another punch, harder than the first. Blood was streaming from Scott's nose.
"Did you master ever beat you like this, dog!" Toad was screaming. Scott could barely hear, through the pain of another blow. "Mine did, day after day after day! For nothing, he would beat me! For his amusement!"
The punch jerked Scott's head to one side. A bone in his cheek had broken. Scott counted himself lucky it wasn't the neck. A back-hand knocked Scott's head the other side.
"I get beaten, and what do you get? Answer me, dog!" The following blow left Scott with a broken jaw. But the fact he didn't answer wasn't of matter to Toad. "A place at the right hand, while I was getting the back of it! A red-head in your bed, while one sneered at me with contempt and hate! Respect! I don't even get pity, but you get respect!"
There was another punch. Then another. Not very forceful. Toad was just wildly striking at Scott, all the while screaming that he was a dog.
__________________________________________________________________________________

At the last second, Shadowcat went intangible. Her first phased through the monitor, so it didn't crack and every bone in her hand didn't shatter. But the screen became filled with static, the connection broken.
Good, thought Shadowcat. Five minutes of talking with that irresponsible bastard had been about all she could have stood.
"It did not go well?" Knowing where the shaky voice was coming from, Shadowcat sighed in frustration. Ever since the Magneto Territory, Colossus had been timid around her, unwilling even to look directly at her. What had the Brotherhood done to him? It must have been bad, worse than what they did years ago. Only…Avalanche had been making the entire area tremor, and Pyro had encircled the entire small city with flames. Neither of them could have done anything, and Blob alone couldn't have…
Stupid girl, Shadowcat thought to herself. Just seeing the effects, Colossus must have had flashbacks. Blob knocking him into the air. Pyro trapping him in flames until he was white hot. Avalanche hurling trucks of liquid nitrogen at him. The combined effects had nearly killed Colossus, and for weeks afterward, Professor Xavier and worked to suppress the pain. That last part was something Colossus didn't know Shadowcat knew. Maybe he felt guilty about what else had gone on that night, Shadowcat being imprisoned by the Morlocks, nearly being forced into a marriage with Caliban so that the Morlock Healer would help save him. That must have been it.
Forcing her concern for Colossus into the back of her head, Shadowcat replied to his question. "Sam says they have too much on their plate. The way he sounded, I think he just doesn't care." Clenching her eyes shut, Shadowcat had to force her hands to stay open. Dark red welts already covered her palms, the result of nails dug in deep. "How many of us are there, Colossus? A little over a year ago, this mansion was filled with dozens of mutants. We had three teams at three different bases, and now there's only the three of us!"
"Logan said he would come." Somehow, Shadowcat hadn't noticed Nightcrawler teleporting into the War Room. A funny thing to call the briefing room of a team dedicated to peace and harmony, but fitting all the same. Currently, the X-Men were engaged in a war, and they were losing.
"But where is he?" Shadowcat asked. "The Professor called for him over a month ago, and Logan's still nowhere to be seen. Maybe if he'd been with us before, we could have…"
"For the past half-hour, I have tried to call Scott and Jean," Nightcrawler said. Shadowcat could feel her eyes starting to tear up. More bad news. "It can only be as we've suspected. Beast. Iceman. Archangel. The Professor. Now Cyclops and Phoenix. There's a method to Toad's madness."
"He pays Magneto back for all the beatings," Shadowcat began. "And he kidnaps the original X-Men for making Magneto mad in the first place. We know he hates us, Kurt. That's about all we know."
Even the full roster of the Brotherhood wasn't something they were sure about. Toad, Blob, Pyro, Vanisher and Avalanche, but who else? No point in dwelling on something for the thousandth time, Shadowcat decided with a shake of her head.
"It's too much, Kurt," she said instead. "We need help!"
"We need a real leader," Nightcrawler finished. "No, don't argue, Kate. I may have had my moments, but we both know that I'm not up for something like this. And the Professor, for all his strengths, had never been a field leader. Without Scott, we've been running around with our heads cut off."
"No," Shadowcat argued. "Before Scott. Come on, Kurt, you and Peter left because you didn't like how he was leading the team. I had my doubts too. We're more used to Ororo leading." For a moment, Shadowcat was silent, letting the name sink in. "And where is she, for that matter? Just like Logan, she left when the Professor announced his new direction. Unlike him, we haven't been able to find a single trace of Ororo. She has to know what's going on though. Why wouldn't be come?"
"That, Kitty, is something only Ororo can answer." Nightcrawler took a glance at the computer monitors, and sighed. "All the names in those computers, and the few we've been able to contact either can't help us or won't. Alison wants nothing to do with us. Sean had crawled deep into a bottle ever since Rahne told him about Moira, and she refuses to give up her search. Guido seems to have lost his powers. Lorna moves about so often we can't find her. Rogue could be dead for all we know. You just spoke with Sam and X-Force?"
"They flat out refused," Shadowcat growled. Before she could go on about the heated conversation she'd had with the leader of X-Force and former X-Man, a heavy door clanged shut. It was the double-reinforced door separating the War Room from the Danger Room, a place that was more than aptly named. It then came to Shadowcat's attention that Colossus was no longer in the room.
"What the…?" Wondering, Shadowcat approached the door and glanced at the small screen beside it. It said level 12, the highest level scenario, only recently added to the Danger Room's programming. It'd been run once, before Cyclops and the others had left. The Professor had been forced to shut down the scenario after thirty seconds, otherwise the entire team would have been killed. Colossus hadn't been with the team at the time, he had no idea what he was facing. "He'll be killed in there! I'll need to phase into the control room and-"
The pressure of Nightcrawler's hand on her shoulder made Shadowcat give pause. Only from surprise. She would have phased otherwise and continued on, if not for what Nightcrawler said next.
"Peter has the right idea. Talking about the same things over and over again won't help anything. We've sent out the call. Somebody may come, but we can't wait around. If it comes to the three of us against the entire Brotherhood, we'll need to be prepared."
Despite herself, Shadowcat nodded in agreement. What could the three of them do, though? Even with Magneto's aid, the X-Men hadn't been able to withstand the Brotherhood's attacks. "Then we should do it as a team," Shadowcat argued. "That's the problem, Kurt. We keep getting divided."
"And we should be prepared if the Brotherhood manages to divide us again." Sometimes Nightcrawler was so smart it was damned annoying. "More than that, we need to release our frustration on something besides one another."
"All right," Shadowcat admitted through grit teeth. "But I'm getting up there, and at the first sign he's in trouble, I'm shutting the program down. He's of no use to anyone dead, Kurt."
"How can we fight at our best when we think everything will just go away when it gets too hot?" Kurt asked without expecting an answer. "Wait until it's absolutely necessary to close the program. Then I'll go. Then you."
The hand was gone from Shadowcat's shoulder. Without a word, she phased, and rose up away from Nightcrawler.
__________________________________________________________________________________

The needle was in his arm, injecting liquid fire into the vein. It felt so good, the rush of power pumping through his blood. More, Dominic Petros could feel his red and white blood cells colliding together as the blood traveled. Could even feel the molecules of the air itself pressing against his body. Avalanche was attuned to the most minute of vibrations, and all because of the disease coursing through his body. A disease that was already in the process of dying, though it's side-effects would linger.
"You're still pumping that junk into your body."
Avalanche had been aware of Pyro's approach even before the door had opened, but didn't care. "It's not junk, John. It's power. You should know that better than anybody."
"Aye, I should. That power nearly burned me to a bloody crisp," John Allerdyce replied in a violent tone. "Don't forget that's the Legacy Virus you just shot into your body there, Dom. If it wasn't for that cure, you'd be shaking apart, probably to the point of disintegration!"
"But we have been cured, and now this virus is the best performance enhancer out there. Without it, I never would have been able to shake things up the way I did in Canada. Hell, this is the reason you were able to take down Magneto himself!"
"Oh yeah, that completely makes up for the months of agonizing pain. At least wait until you need it to boost up. The more often you fight the disease, the more quickly it's effects fade."
"Except for you, and anybody else who caught the virus naturally," Avalanche added, in an envious voice. "In your hands, you've got the power to burn the whole world, whenever you want!"
A humorous smile appeared on Pyro's face. "I'll just settle for all the humans. If Genosha weren't already a cinder, I'd light it up for years. Those bloody bastards, the only research they ever did on the virus was in making sure humans could fight it off. Never mind if every mutant on their island died."
"Heh, yeah, wouldn't those X-Men love to get their hands on the data we got out of Genosha. First thing they'd do is help all the humans, so they'd be able to get right back to murdering mutants!"
Small cracks appeared in the floor around Avalanche, a detail that did not escape Pyro's notice. He masked it by voicing Avalanche.
"Oh, those traitors won't be doing much of anything for long. Not when we're done with them! Why I'm itching to make Boston look like a-"
"Bitch! Bastard!"
It wasn't Avalanche that interrupted Pyro. He certainly wasn't the cause tremors shaking the room. No, the source was distant, where the voice had come from. A voice that both Pyro and Avalanche recognized as belonging to the Blob.
"You lying, goddamned whore. You…you son of a bitch!"
The screams got louder the closer they got, Pyro and Avalanche. Soon they were right outside the door to Fred Dukes' bedroom. Neither had to wonder at the cause for Blob's anger. The way he alternated between genders, it told them everything.
The door was unlocked. John pushed it open. Inside was Fred, pummeling his colossal fists down on the woman knelling before him. Carmella Unuscione, who had once been known as Angelo Unuscione.
"You were my friend!" screamed Fred at the top of his considerable lungs. Again a fist pounded against the force field surrounded Carmella. "I thought you were a dead man, and all this time…! You and me, we were…cuntfaced prick, how could you do this to me!"
"Slap me mum and call her a whore, he figured it out," whisper Pyro under his breath. From Avalanche there were no words. He just watched on in silent awe.
"I am your friend, Fred," Carmella, or Angelo, or whatever his/her name was, cried. "That's why I'm telling you the truth now!"
"Now?" Fred roared. "Now! And to think I was feeling guilty for boning my best friend's daughter!" Another crashing blow against the force field, and the entire room shook with the force of it. At this, Avalanche stepped forward, his hands held up in front of him.
"Fred, buddy, settle down before you bring this whole place down on-"
"And you!" Finally, Fred had noticed the presence of his other two friends, and the rage only seemed to strengthen. "I remember wondering about the looks you two gave whenever I talked about Carm- about this freak! The entire time, you knew! And you were laughing behind my back, the entire time!"
"Freak?" Unuscione asked, her face darkening. The psionic field shifted, an appendage struck Fred under the chin. He went back several steps. "You wonder why it took me so long to admit this? You, who people used to laugh at in a carnival freakshow! The looks of friends affect you so much, Fred? Try living with the looks you own parents gave you, knowing how you were born! Knowing that, no matter what they did, you were still something that they just could not accept! And finally, knowing yourself that they were right, that they made the wrong decision and left you to grow up as something you knew you weren't. Maybe you have lived something of that, you fat bastard, but I had to live with this lie inside of me, and that wasn't something I could stand anymore!"
The force field projected out at Fred, striking him full-on. But the Blob was immovable, both to her power and to her words. Finally, Unuscione relented and, near tears, ran past Avalanche and Pyro out of the room. This left the three men, the core of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, alone.
"Oh my god. I never thought, when it was Angelo I never felt like…" Fred started to say.
Pyro shook his head, not wanting to hear another word. "No. We're all gonna get good and drunk before we say anything else."
__________________________________________________________________________________
The scenario hadn't been too complex. But at level 12, even a simple exercise would have required super-human effort. It was a good thing, then that Colossus was a superhuman.
Fists of steel had struck again and again, unrelenting, until at last the target fell. At times, they felt pulled as though by an outside force. That had made it difficult for Colossus to pull back for another strike. But he managed it again and again. Finally, his head a bloody mass with splinters of bone sticking through, the Blob fell.
Next were the attacks Colossus feared most. Roaring flames nearly as hot as the sun enveloped him, and waves of vibrational force threatened to crush the softening steel. Once, perhaps, the flames would have mattered. But since the last time, Colossus had encountered a mutant capable of generating heat hotter than the sun. The encounter had nearly crippled him, but Colossus had endured. He'd grown stronger, since last he encountered Pyro.
With each agonizing step, Colossus grew closer to the two evil mutants. The surface of his steel skin rippled as though with a life of it's own, and later Colossus would wonder whether he could have been melted or shattered, given enough time.
But in the now, Colossus did not wonder. There was no time for thought. Only on doing what need to be done. Another step, then again. Those large steel hands reached out, and each found a scrawny neck to wrap itself around. Allowing himself a slight smile, Colossus squeezed slightly, and flicked his wrists. He'd done this, once before.
*KRAK!*
The flames died. Vibrations no longer assailed the steel body of Colossus. The two hands relaxed their grips, and two shapes fell limp to the ground.
Then the world shimmered and faded to reveal a massive room of metal walls. The scenario, difficult as it had been, was complete.
"Peter…my god. What did you do?"
The voice belonged to Katya. Colossus did not allow himself to respond - he knew perfectly well what he had done - and began to walk towards the exit. He would have to take great care of his armored body before transforming back into flesh. Perhaps even reshape the steel a little.
"Peter wait! I'm talking to you. Peter!"
No, do not listen to Katya. Do not think about what was done to her, while you were locked inside your own mind, unable to do anything save watch and weep. Not until it is time to remember, and to act on the emotions such memories will create.
The door opened. On the other side was Kurt, looking at Colossus with eyes that said he understood. But he could never understand, and later he will be as shocked as disgusted as Katya shall be. Colossus was ready to accept that.
At least Kurt did not say anything as Colossus passed. Instead, he strode into the Danger Room, and spoke sharply to Katya.
"Get back in the control room. It's my turn."
"But Kurt, he-"
"We need to be prepared. For everything."
After a moment's hesitation, Kitty nodded. But she wanted to argue, to say that they couldn't become like their enemies. Oh, she'd thought about it herself, often. But to take that step, to kill another human being, was something Kitty prayed she didn't have in her. She hoped that Peter didn't either, in spite of what she'd just seen. Deep down, Kitty knew she was wrong. Peter had killed before.
So had Nightcrawler, many years ago. The victim had been like a brother to Kurt, and a murderer of children. Kurt had never forgiven himself for the death, and prayed daily that he would never have to repeat the sin. With the recent circumstances, Kurt feared that his prays have gone unheard.
Kitty had gone intangible, and was floating up towards the Danger Room's control center when the alarm sounded. Not the intruder's alarm. Simply a general signal that an authorized individual had entered the mansion.
Air rushed in to fill a sudden void. Had Kitty been able to breath in her intangible state, her nose would have been invaded by the stench of sulfur. Nightcrawler had teleported, undoubtedly to see who the newcomers were. Kitty followed in course, shifting her body out of phase almost entirely from Earth's gravity. Like a rocket, she shot up through the ceiling and mansion sub-levels, enduring the pain of force fields designed with intangibles in mind.
Upon passing through the floor of the main level, Kitty shifted back to within gravity's influence and walked along the air. The foyer was on the other side of the wall ahead. As she walked through, Kitty wondered who had answered the call for-
"Ahhh!"
No sooner had Kitty's head popped through the other side of the wall than a sharp jolt of energy shot through it. Even in her intangible state, Kitty felt the pain, and her entire body went numb. Had she been required to concentrate in order to maintain her intangibility, rather than the other way around, Kitty would have most certainly gone solid at that moment. Inside the wall, the consequences would have been fatal.
"Forgive me, Kitten," a woman said in a deep voice, with much regret in it. "But you should be more cautious."
Another sharp jolt, and Kitty opened her eyes wide with surprise. She couldn't move! It was like a switch had suddenly gone off inside of her mind, cutting it off from her body. While still intangible, Kitty was trapped in the wall, and with air fast running out.
Worse, Kitty was in this state due to the action of Ororo Munroe, a woman Kitty had long admired and considered a sister! And Logan was behind her, kneeling down with his fist pressed against a prone Kurt's throat, two outer claws extended.
"A surgical strike at your nervous system, temporarily shorting it out," Ororo explained. "I only needed to find a specific wavelength to affect you in this state. Logan sensed the pressure of Kurt's entrance the instant before it occurred, and got the drop on him."
"Why?" Kurt croaked from his helpless position, echoing Kitty's own thoughts.
"Call it a lesson, bub. Two of you show up reckless, thinking we must be friends just cause we knew some codes. Storm an' me, we been hearing about what's gone on. Now's the time when you assume, you fry both yer ass an' mine."
"You should have accessed the mansion's sensors to identify us first," Ororo added. "And even then, you should have approached more cautiously."
Lightning crackled in Ororo's eyes. The smell of ozone filled the air. Another jolt, and Kitty was free to move. She lurched forward, out of the wall, concentrated on going tangible, and breathed deep. In that same instant, Logan hade moved off Kurt, his claws retracted back into the arm. Kurt rose to his feet slowly, rubbing his neck.
"If this had been a week ago," Kurt gasped. "I would have felt insulted. But you're right. I was so eager for a friend, that I haven't even considered an enemy."
"Are the two of you it?" Ororo asked. "What of the Professor, or Peter?"
"I am here." The statement came from under the stairs. Colossus stepped out from the darkness, his armored form seeming to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Kitty hadn't seen him like that since his sister's funeral. "If necessary, little sister, I was prepared to kill you."
Acting as though it were the most normal thing in the world for a friend to say that to her, Ororo nodded. "It pains me to hear you say that, little brother. Sadly, in these times you must be prepared."
"If we're done with the fancy talk, I'd like some answers." Logan narrowed his eyes at Colossus, considering something. "Namely, what the blazes happened? Last time I talked to somebody here, it was Chuck."
Talking quickly, Nightcrawler recounted the recent events in the Magneto Territories. Ororo closed her eyes, and sighed deeply. All Logan did was light a cigar.
"So Toad decided to stop being a whipping boy and put the strap to Magneto. Good fer him, bad fer you guys. Prof should've known Mags would'a been a target."
"He thought that, together, we could have handled the Brotherhood," Kitty said. "But it wasn't Magneto that Toad took captive. As much as he blames Magneto for years of abuse, we think he blames the X-Men as the cause. First Hank, then Bobby, Warren, and the Professor. We…we haven't been able to get in touch with Scott and Jean."
"Good," replied Storm, much to everyone's surprise. "This means the Brotherhood have finished with their offensive. Toad has everybody he wants."
"I hear what you're saying," growled Logan. His claws were bare, flaked with his own dried blood. "That sucker took his shot. Now it's our turn!"
__________________________________________________________________________________

Deep in the French monastery desecrated by the Brotherhood's presence, screams echoed. The source was a tortured young man, locked inside of a sphere which employed alien technology. Electric impulses shot through the body of Warren Worthington III, copying his memories and recording them onto a nearby bank of computers. Images shot through the monitors, displaying Warren's tragic past. His mother dying in his arms while Warren soared skyward, an angel carrying her to a better place. Warren battling Cyclops and Iceman before any of them were X-Men, his mind addled by an experimental nerve gas. Another image of Warren battling the X-Men, this time as a hypnotized pawn of Sauron. Iceman shattered into pieces by a hail of metal feather blades hurled by Archangel, an image that played back over and over again. The other two images that struck Warren to the core were those of the Marauders impaling his wings in the Morlock Tunnels, and of Candy Southern, killed by Cameron Hodge while Warren was helpless to save her.
Again and again, those images played out, while Warren screamed. While nearby, a plastic bubble rested over a flame, the steam inside wishing it was capable of screams. For it was Iceman who rested in that bubble, kept formless and in constant agony.
In another room, the doctor-turned-Morlock-turned-Evil Mutant Masque was at work with two patients. On one bed lay Professor Charles Xavier, a psi-suppressor fixed upon his brow. His legs were uncovered, and Masque ran his hands over them with a surgeon's touch. On the other bed lay the man unrecognizable as the Beast. The trademark blue hair was gone, burnt away weeks ago by Pyro's flames. And in the areas where Masque had already removed hair follicles, it would never grow back. But that was an easy patient, and Masque often ignored him to puzzle over Xavier. Toad wanted the man's legs fixed so they could be shattered again, the ability to walk restored then torn away. But try as Masque might, he could find no physical cause for the handicap.
And where was Toad? Alone in a room with Jean Grey, who lay unconscious, trapped in the illusion created by Mastermind. It was a pleasant illusion, in accordance with Toad's instructions. She had to be kept healthy and unagitated, so that no harm would come to the child growing inside of her. Toad was standing by her bed, his hand pressed against her round stomach.
"And when his teeth come up I'll stop mashing the flies and feed them to him whole," Toad said into a baby monitor on the bed stand. "I'll add other insects, and for his morning juice he'll be fed oatmeal with the blood of humans mixed in. I'll have Mastermind educate him with a world of mutants being hunted and tortured by humans, until he'll grow to loath them more than I ever could. For his thirteenth birthday I'll present him with a young human girl, and I'll watch laughing as he rapes her for his pleasure."
On and on Toad went, about how he would raise the child of Jean Grey and Scott Summers. The second baby monitor, alive with Toad's depraved words, was fixed to a wall high up in a bare room. In this room was the baby's father, a man who couldn't see. All he could do was hear, and listen in spite of his prayers, day and night, about how Toad would teach his son to hate.
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"What the hell kind of a mask is this?
The question was asked by Wolverine. In his hands was a mask of orange so dark it may well have been brown and brown so dark it may was well have been black. The rest of the uniform, also orange and brown, hung against the wall. Next to it was another uniform, black, fitted for a woman.
Standing next to Wolverine was Storm, a hand rubbing against her own uniform. Behind the two were Shadowcat and Nightcrawler, wearing their uniforms. A few feet back stood Colossus, apart from the others, but also in uniform.
"Well, it was designed with your senses in mind," answered Shadowcat. "Flame resistant and bulletproof, because even though your skull is unbreakable, the circuitry is pretty expensive. The earpieces, for instance, can screen out background noise so you can focus in on something, or if somebody tries to use your hearing to your disadvantage. Same with the lenses, and in the nose guard is a small container of pine scent, so if you smell something unpleasant you can just drown it out-"
"Junk like that can distract me," Logan tossed the mask behind his shoulder to Shadowcat. "Chuck it all. I ain't some pansy like Daredevil, needing protection from a damned dog whistle."
"Hey, I came up with a lot of this stuff," Shadowcat started in a defensive tone.
"It shows. All flash, no substance." In his hand Logan took hold of one of the uniform's arms. His claws popped, slicing the arm neatly just above the elbow. "Don't need the gloves either. What do I care if people see my face or have my fingerprints? The colors are right at least. But remove all the fancy gear, and cut it up so I can breathe. I'm feeling hotter than hell just looking at it. You have any idea how much a guy with my back hair smells when he's hot? Well, I'd be getting the worst of it, so no thanks."
Twisting the mask in her hands, Shadowcat screwed up her face in anger and disappointment. But what Wolverine said did say made some sense, and come to think of it, Nightcrawler did smell a little. "Um…Storm…what do you think?"
"You did a wonderful job, Kate," replied Storm. "However, my lock picks need to be more accessible, for when I'm bound. The dagger is a nice touch, however."
"Not that weapons would do much good against the Brotherhood," Nightcrawler mused. "Blob is invulnerable, and we'd never be able to get so close to Pyro or Avalanche."
"Plus Toad and Vanisher are too quick," Wolverine added. "That's all you know? What about that broad Unuscione? Some of that surveillance footage at that lab in Genosha survived, and that was her with Pyro. Plus, my old pal Maverick had a run-in with them recently, and said Mountjoy was with them too."
"Mountjoy." The name was a curse on Storm's lips, and as she said it her eyes crackled with electricity. The reaction was natural, considering she had once been possessed by the mutant killer. No, not possessed. Absorbed, an experience that Storm knew was far worse. Even the Shadow King hadn't been able to frighten her so. Much to her surprise, Storm noticed that Colossus also flinched at the name.
"These guys can get overconfident, Logan," Shadowcat said defensively. "Think they've got us licked, they could start bragging up a storm and give us a chance to surprise them."
"Well, don't count on it."
"I'm not. But there's no harm in being prepared."
"Oh, so you're a boy scout now-"
"Enough Logan!" Storm commanded. "Instead of arguing amongst ourselves, what we should be doing is preparing for an offensive. If Unuscione is with the Brotherhood, then it's possible that they're based out of that French Monastery where we once fought the Acolytes."
"Oh, of course!" Nightcrawler smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. "We should have thought of that as soon as Cerebro failed to detect any of them! The Professor had even gathered a number of us there was, during the Phalanx incident!"
"He should have thought of it, then," Shadowcat told him. "So, what, we go check it out?"
"Time is of the essence," Storm agreed, but then she shook her head. "No, we can't afford to be hasty. The Brotherhood outnumber us, and have been fighting like a team all this time. Logan and I have been away for too long. We all need to train together, relearn how to work as a team!"
Nodding enthusiastically, Shadowcat started to turn towards the Danger Room. "You're exactly right, Storm. I'll program a team scenario right away-"
"No," interrupted Storm, much to everyone's surprise. "Important though it may be that we train as a team, we can't leave ourselves vulnerable. It's how the Marauders managed to catch two of our teams unawares, attacking while we were all in the middle of training. Two of us should stay aside, to monitor the mansion's defenses."
"Already I wonder how we ever got along without you," Nightcrawler told Storm. "But who of us should sit out the session?"
"Not me," retorted Wolverine. "I'm raring to go, and with my healing factor it doesn't matter if Toad catches me pants down."
Storm turned to look at Colossus. "Peter, you were just in the Danger Room earlier, weren't you? You can reacquaint me with the computers. While the rest of you train," she added for the others.
Both Shadowcat and Nightcrawler agreed with the arrangement, and while Wolverine went into the Danger Room. This left Storm and Colossus alone in the War Room. Puzzled, Colossus eyed the computers, then looked at Storm.
"Storm, you know that I barely understand these machines. And besides, they haven't been changed since you left!"
"I know Peter," said Storm. "The truth is that I wanted to talk to you alone. As you know, I'm more than just a mutant. There is potential for magic in me."
Colossus knew this, of course, as did all the X-Men currently in the mansion. They'd all encountered that aged, magic-wielding Storm in the realm of Limbo. It was a memory Colossus did not prefer to dwell on, however. His sister, Illyana, had also been there.
"Yes, that had to do with why you left the X-Men," he recalled.
Storm nodded. "In that time, I've been through some, strange experiences. Things that I wouldn't like to recount here. But the fact is, Peter, that my senses have become mystically attuned. Even before you revealed yourself upstairs, I was aware of your presence. More than that, I felt an echo of…something else."
Storm had no time to react before she found the steel hand of Colossus gripping her throat. She could barely take a breath, and knew that if he applied even the slightest pressure she would be dead. Staring into his enraged eyes, Storm feared that he might.
But as she looked into his eyes, Colossus also looked into Storm's eyes. He saw the tinge of fear in those sky blue eyes of the woman he loved like a sister, and Colossus realized just what he was doing. Catching hold of his breath, Colossus relaxed his fingers and changed back into flesh. He'd turned to steel without even realizing it.
"Peter," Storm gasped out after taking a breath. "Does Kitty and Kurt…do they know that Mountjoy had possessed you?"
Though he opened his mouth, Colossus couldn't give breath to the refusal. He could only shake his head, and fight back the tears forming in his eyes. No, dammit! She shouldn't remind him, shouldn't bring up what he did! Not until…not until it was time to act!
There was a pain in his knees, and Peter was surprised to find that his legs had gone weak. "No…no they…" Peter choked out in wracking sobs. "Please…they can't know…Kitty cannot…oh god!"
With the loving embrace of a sister, Ororo Munroe bent down and took her friend Peter's sobbing form into her arms. Her cried softly against her, while in the next room Ororo could hear the sounds of violence. There was a laugh, in the carefree voice of her Kitten. Even in the midst of all that was going on, she was still shining and bright, and now Ororo suspected why.
But there was Peter, weeping with pain and misery over something that made Kitty so joyous. Ororo did not need to hear Peter's pleas to know that she must never tell her Kitten the truth of things. The only thing that could come close to the pain she would experience upon learning that…would be the pain that Mountjoy would soon suffer!
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The room was bare except for a few things. A small pile of torn clothes in the corner, four metal spikes that had been pounded into the wooden floor, the woman tied spread-eagle to those four spikes, and the smiling man who crouched over her.
In a not-far future, people who saw Mountjoy compared his features to the devil. The face of sharp features displayed a joyful malice, and was framed by a mane of blood red hair. The eyes were red as well, and never ceased to laugh. They were laughing then, as Mountjoy turned the knife over and over with his lithe fingers, trying to decide where to cut the young woman next.
Clad only in bra and panties, with a thick cloth tied between her teeth, Rachel Summers was helpless. Her hair, long ago cut almost to the scalp, was of a red even darker than Mountjoy's. But her features were not as delicate as his own. Long scars marred Rachel's face, marking her as a hound in her own future.
"Did they scream, Rachel?" Mountjoy asked in that sweet honey voice. "As you chased them, and they lost hope of escape, did they scream? Did they weep, when your masters to them? As Ahab stabbed them through, did any of them gazed at you with accusation? Did any of them have the courage to name you for what you were?"
In a long, graceful arc, Mountjoy ran his knife over Rachel's face. Each of the scars he connected with one new mark, a perfect oval that framed Rachel's hideous visage.
"Hound and whore you were, hunting your own kind to certain death so that you would have another day free of your own. How many days of life did you buy? How many souls did you condemn to torment?"
Tears ran down from Rachel's green eyes, mixing with the blood as both dripped to the floor. Surely, she thought to herself, this must be hell. For Mountjoy, cutting with the knife an inner circle to connect the scars, it was heaven.
And for Mastermind, observing Mountjoy's supposed actions from the comfort of her chair, it was something to ease the boredom. The room wasn't bare, but well furnished. There was a dresser with a mirror on top, two chairs, and a large bed near the window. Mountjoy was crouched on the floor beside the bed, that wicked grin on his face as he continued to do what his mind told him he was doing.
Rachel's mind told her the exact same thing. Well, one corner of her mind. Mastermind was multi-tasking, leading Rachel Summers through a collage of horrors and torments. In other corners, the Phoenix Force was consuming Rachel the way it had consumed her mother, Selene leaves Rachel a dry and rotted husk and she uses the stolen power to raze mankind, and Rachel was even stuck in a never-ending tween drama directed by Mojo,
But amidst all the chaos Mastermind was stirring inside Rachel's mind, there was one small area she overlooked. It was a miniscule part of Rachel's brain, virtually nothing in the infinite depths of a mind. However, in that tiny fraction, Rachel was free. Oh, for the time all she could do was lie huddled and pray that Mastermind did not uncover her. Nevertheless, Rachel was free to watch, and to wait.
Soon, Rachel told herself. Soon it would be time to fight back.
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NEXT ISSUE: The X-Men take the fight to the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants!