X-Men: Reimagined

The Squirrel said:
cool..the only thing is...Stryker was confused when Xavier said he felt like something was blocking his power...Stryker says that he thinks Cerebro was suppose to keep that from happening...but then Stryker tells the others that Magneto has a helmet that blocks the powers....Mabye i missied something?
Click to expand...


the thing is that magneto should be the only one guarded from cerebro, but the others were too, and that is what is confusing stryker. anyways, i'm too busy right now to actually make a new entry, but for those who'd like a sneak preview,
in the next few entries, there will be two new x-men (one of which is not in the team in cannon), and several new brotherhood members (since magneto's making an 'army')
.

and good luck with your story, now that you're getting back to it.
 
Kurt and Forge had been at their card game for two hours, and it was still the morning. The lodge had very little going for it in their opinions. Forge was constantly glaring at the clock on the wall, despite having the time available on his bionic arm.

"Missing a tv show?" Kurt asked. Forge muttered something. "You seem distracted."

"Eh, it's nothing," Forge replied. "That clock is off." Kurt checked his watch.

"It's only a minute fast, and that is just compared to mine." The blue mutant said. Forge pulled off his glove, looking at the clock built into his wrist.

"And it's thirty seconds faster than mine," he said.

"So?"

"So, it isn't reliable."

"Forge, mein freund, you are making very little sense," Kurt said, setting his cards down.

"You've obviously never been in the military before. Me, I was in Somalia," Forge said. He stood up, and went to the clock, reaching up and taking it from the wall. "I kind of got attached to perfectly synchronized time."

"So is your arm on military time?" Kurt asked, half-jokingly.

"No. I synchronized that to the atomic clock. Precise as can be." Forge put the clock down on the table, opened the back, and started tinkering with the gears. "Sorry, but I can't go too long without messing with something, or I freak out." He put it back together, and brought it back to it's original place on the wall.

"Must've driven your superiors insane in the Army," Kurt quipped.

"Yeah," Forge said, "but I was around alot of wierd characters. My little platoon, they called it the 'Red Crew', 'cause most of us were either Native Americans or Chinese. I don't think it was supposed to be that way, but it was. I was buddies with this guy, Johnny Proudstar, a big Apache who'd been a track star in high school, and he was a mutant too. He'd always go racing around, stealing stuff from people and putting it in wierd places. I think he damn near got court martialed for that. Johnny's a teacher now, back in Arizona where he's from. I couldn't stand a job like that." He looked at Kurt, seeing if he was paying attention. He wasn't.

"Forge, do you hear that?" Kurt asked. Forge listened intently.

"Somebody's screaming." Kurt grabbed Forge's wrist, and teleported them out.



Logan sat in a lotus position in the middle of the woods. He could both hear and smell Ororo coming from countless yards away.

"What do you want?" He asked, even though he knew.

"Oh, umm... I'm sorry I bothered you," Ororo stammered. "I didn't know you were busy."

"I wouldn't say I'm busy," Logan replied. "Just relaxing. What can I do for you?"

"I- I know about you and Betsy."

"Okay, and?" Logan pressed, trying not to take too much glee in getting a full confession from the woman.

"What do you feel about her?" Ororo asked, sitting next to him under the trees.

"Huh? Well, I feel like she's a hot British supermodel who likes to have fun," Logan said. "What does it matter?"

"She says that your relationship is just for the physical aspect," Ororo said, a twinge of jealousy in her voice.

"Yeah, so I guess 'relationship' would be too strong a term for it," Logan laughed. "You got some kind of opinion on that?"

"Well-"

"Ah, screw it," Logan moaned, cutting her off. "I know what you're hear to talk about, Windy. The walls in that place are fairly thin, and when you've got animal senses, people can't keep too many secrets. I didn't really mean to eavesdrop, but I heard everyhting you said last night to Betsy."

"Oh," Ororo looked down, sullen. "I really didn't mean to spy on you two."

"I doubt you did, I'm just saying I know that you saw us yesterday. Ya' know, some people like the peeping type," he said with a wink. "And as for whatever feelings for me you have, don't think I didn't notice along time ago. You didn't hide it too well." Ororo started clumping her long, white hair in her hands.

"I'm just not used to this," she said. "I grew up in Africa, in a little tribe that barely even saw other people. The only reason I didn't get married off to a hunter when I was 14 was because of my powers. I think that this is all just some wierd part of adjusting to normal life."

"And how long have you been 'adjusting'?"

"About seven years."

"And I'm your first big crush? I'm flattered," Logan laughed. He had clearly hurt Ororo, and tried to console her. "Hey, I'm just playing with you. I can kind of relate to you, having to start everything over. In fact, I know alot about that. I just don't get alot of secret admirers." Ororo forced a smile. "That's better now." He cocked his head suddenly, focusing on something far off. "You hear that? Someone's in trouble!"



"Kitty, come on!" Sara pleaded. "I don't want to keep up with you! I'm tired!" Kitty laughed at her friend.

"Come on!" Kitty shouted. "You're supposed to be the athletic one!"

"I'm not a dancer or anything!" Sara called back. It was easier to smile with an actual friend, and Kitty fit that nicely.

The two girls raced through the woods, simply trying to kill the time until they could leave. The ground was still wet from the previous day's downpour. A ways ahead of Sara, Kitty tripped on a patch of muddy leaves. When she fell, a net enclosed around her, pulling her up.

"Kitty!" Sara called.

"Hold on a second," Kitty said, trying to calm down. She phased through, and fell to the ground. "What was that doing there?" They could hear someone coming. In a few moments, a creature, brownish and scaly, showed itself. It's head was long, it's teeth big and sharp, and it had small but strong wings.

"****!" Sara yelled, surprised. "Kitty, it's one of those things from the Danger Room!"

This was indeed a Brood creature, though it was larger than any that Professor Xavier had sent against them. It lunged at Kitty. She opened her mouth and screamed loudly.
 
The Brood opened it's huge mouth to screech. Kitty cringed at the hot breath that poured over her.

"Kitty, get back!" Sara called. She rushed up close, holding a bone spike that had come from her arm. Kitty took a step backward. The Brood lunged, jumping right through her. Kitty phased into the ground, coming up several feet away. Sara flung the spike at the Brood. It hit, and stuck in, but barely. She lept up and grabbed it by one of it's ears, slashing at it with a smaller spike still in her wrist.

"Sara!" Kitty called. Three more Brood had just arrived. Kitty tried grabbing at one, but it was faster than the ones that she'd fought in the Danger Room. While Sara hacked at the first Brood, the others tried to pounce on Kitty, who had to try and keep phased as long as she could. One of them reared up on it's back legs and screeched. As it was letting out the noise, there was a burst of smoke between Sara and Kitty, and Nightcrawler and Forge appeared.

"What the hell?" Forge shouted. "Girls, how many are there?"

"Four!" Kitty called back, trying to run from the Brood. Nightcrawler sprung into action, teleporting in front of one of the Brood, blinding it with the smoke from his appearance. He jumped up and slammed his strong feet into it's head, sending it to the ground. The other two jumped at him, but he dodged easily. Nearby, the Brood that Sara was straddling was weakening, but still trying to shake her off. Forge let his bionic hand become it's gun form, and blasted it. The hit gave the Brood a smelly blister, but not much else.

"Coming through!" Iceman yelled, arriving on an ice-slide. Colossus and Psylocke were close behind. "Anyone know where Storm is?"

"She went to find Logan," Forge responded, shooting again. Iceman froze the ground under the Brood, making it slip and giving Sara a good chance to jump off.

"Everyone gather together!" Iceman ordered. The seven of them circled together. "Bishop is off looking for Wolverine himself, so he should get them both at the same time. We need to get everyone together, and get the hell out of here!"

One of the Brood lunged, but Colossus grabbed it and tossed it into a tree. Above them, Storm soared in, holding Wolverine by the wrists. She dropped him near them.

"So these are the real thing?" He asked.

"Yes," Iceman said. "Get in here with us."

Storm descended to join them.

"Bishop is on his way," she said.

The group huddled close, keeping the Brood far off.

"They see us like this," Iceman explained, "and they think we're all just one big animal. Nobody break ranks."

They stayed together for several minutes, waiting for a Brood to make a move. When Bishop came, Nightcrawler jumped out, grabbed him, and teleported him to the group.

"Anyone have a phone?" Iceman asked.

"Hold on," Forge said. He reached to his pants leg, and pulled it up. His left leg was bionic, just like his arm. The others gaped. "Pay attention to those things!" He snapped. He pressed a button, and a phone popped out, attached to him by a wire. "You may need to reach a little." Iceman grabbed it, and punched in a number.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound calm. "It's Bobby. Look, Warren, I'm at the lodge, and we all sort of need a quick lift out. You can send the chopper? Good."

"Well?" Forge asked, putting the phone back in his leg.

"It'll be about thirty minutes," Iceman said. "Why do you have a phone in your leg?"

"Does that really matter now?" Forge asked.

"Can we last for thirty minutes?" Psylocke asked, clenching her fists and concentrating her psy-knives.

"I think so," Iceman replied. Two more Brood emerged as he said it. "Though it will be interesting."
 
One by one, Nightcrawler teleported the X-Men to the roof of the lodge, where the Brood couldn't reach them. The ones that they'd faced in the Danger Room could fly, but these couldn't. The group on the ground was depleted until only Colossus, the only one who could, without a doubt, withstand an attack from one of the Brood, was left. When it was just him, they attacked. He punched one, the smallest and fastest, hard in the jaw, sending it screeching in pain and reeling back. When it opened it's mouth again, teeth fell out, followed by drops of blood. One of the other Brood turned to attack it, attracted by the smell of blood. Colossus braced himself for another attack, but Nightcrawler brought him away before that was necessary.

Sure enough, the helicopter that Warren Worthington had promised arrived in half an hour, with Warren himself, the former Angel, inside.

"Hop on in!" He called over the noise of the blades. "If any of you are flyers, you might take the air over in here. It's a little crampt."

Storm took of into the air, up to several feet above the helicopter. While there, she started generating strong winds to send the four Brood off into the woods.

"Cut it out!" Warren yelled up to her. She didn't hear him. "Bobby, you can have my spot up here." He climbed out of the helicopter, spread his wings, and flew up to Storm's level. "If you want that chopper to take off safely, than you need to stop with the wind!"

"I have to do something about those things!" Storm called back.

"Don't worry about them," Warren said. "I've taken the Brood before, and there something you're better off just staying away from." The chopper started to lift off, so Storm and Warren moved out of it's way. When it headed off, they followed in the air.



Three pages left. Three pages were what Magneto had not yet read of Irene Adler-Stryker's diaries. He could find nothing that seemed to make sense to him. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Magneto said, monotonoly. Avalanche entered.

"Dominic, what can I do for you?" Erik Lensherr asked.

"The 'lieutenants' sent me to check on you," said the only lowest-ranking member of the Brotherhood.

"Dominic," Lensherr said, putting the book down, "I know that you are upset about not having rank, but you will not be the only one for much longer. In the next few days, I will be sending all of you to check on ten mutants that I've been taking notes on. Then, they will have others to bother. Now, was there anything specific they wanted to know?"

"Aside from progress on the diaries, no."

"I doubt we'll get anything from these," Magneto sighed. "Come with me, and I'll show you the information on your colleagues to be." He tossed the book down on his desk, and led Avalanche out. The pages spilled open. "Now, when we...." The two left the room, not seeing the last entry in the book. It was something short and simple, something that would have obviously piqued Magneto's interest.

It said, in bold, heavy ink: THE AGENTS OF THE FIRST ONE ARE COMING.


In Colorado, the helicopter carrying the X-Men, along with the two airborn mutants following, landed at Warren Worthington's winter home.

"You guys can crash here as long as you need," Warren said to them. "I was really only here to get away from some business troubles."

"What'd you do this time?" Bobby Drake asked, grinning. "Did you lose the Atlantic City casino in a craps game again?"

"Hey, that only happened once!" The X-Men tried to restrain laughter at him. "Oh, shut up."

"Hey, boss?" The pilot said. "What the hell is that thing?" Warren looked to where his pilot was pointing. There was something sitting on his porch, down a level from the helipad.

"Oh no," Warren groaned.

"What? What is it?" Bobby asked, trying to get a look. "No! Dammit, no! Guys, they, umm.... they followed us."

"What?" Logan asked, coming to the head of the group. Bobby pointed. "Well, I'll be damned."

"What is it?" Ororo asked.

"Those damn space-bugs are here, those Brood things." Logan popped his claws. "Well, we didn't get to finish 'em before. Who's up for doing it now?" Bobby glared at him. "Oh, sorry. Not supposed to usurp command, am I?"

"No, you're not," Bobby replied, annoyed. He turned into his ice form, but did something different. His hands were covered now with massive balls of thick ice. "Okay, now, who's up for it?"

"Happy?" Wolverine asked.

"Of course," Iceman replied. "Warren, you care to join in?"

"Of course," the former X-Man said. His fingers twitched, and the tips tightened. When they stopped, his fingers had become talons. "Haven't exactly done this in a while."

"No, buddy, you haven't," Iceman said. He faced the X-Men. "You guys ready?"

The team gathered at the edge of the helipad, and, almost all at once, jumped down to the porch, ready for a fight.



Magneto pulled out a file with the words 'New Recruits' scrawled on in Sharpie. He brought it to a table in the meeting room, where Avalanche sat.

"These, Dominic, are the people we will be meeting with shortly," he said. He opened the file, letting pictures of ten mutants spill out. "This one-" he pointed to a blonde man, "is an Australian with pyrokinetic talents. The pale one here is imprisoned in Siberia, and I've been led to believe that his appearance now is a tad less normal than it was them. The woman here with the six arms is a bit of an oddity, but I think she will gladly join us. This one is only a teenager, but he is immensely powerful, possibly even indestructible. The Asian woman is a former colleague of Victor's, connected like his is to the Weapon X program. This man has minor mind-controlling talents, and it is rumored that he can do much more than that, possibly even create bombs by touch. Something I think could be very useful to us. These other four live in New York City. Or, under New York City, to be more specific. My only concern is that their community seems to idolize our nemesis, Charles Xavier, and persuading them to join may take, how should I say, desperate measures. Any questions?"

"None really," Avalanche said, "other than: when do we get started?"
 
There was a loud crash as Colossus hit the floor. Above him, Warren Worthington had to wince a little, knowing that his insurance would likey not cover 'mutant vs. alien' fight.

"How many do you count?" Iceman asked, yelling to his former colleague.

"Seven!" Warren replied, swooping in.

"Ten," Wolverine corrected. Sure enough, there were three in spots that Warren couldn't see. Logan popped the claws on his left hand. He hurried forward, and swiped at the nearest Brood. It jumped back, then charged, headbutting Wolverine and knocking him down. "Ooh, this one's fiesty." He sprung back up.

Iceman swung his thick, icy hand at the Brood that had cornered Bishop, getting a satisfying crunch as the creature's back seemed to break. Bishop grabbed it, and tossed it off the porch and to the ground, down far below.

Wolverine thrust his hand forward, and caught the Brood he'd selected in the stomach. It screeched as its insides seeped through the triple wounds. Wolverine took a full-on swipe, and cut its belly right open. Another Brood smelled it, and charged at the dying one that Wolverine had just dispatched. Warren grabbed, lept off the ledge of the porch, flew several feet off, and dropped it. What may as well have been blood seeped out of the holes where Warren had gripped it, his talon-like fingers having easily pierced it. Another Brood jumped off, trying to chase it. There were two satisfying splats when they hit the ground, one after the other. Warren turned around, and charged back in.

Shadowcat was backed up against the glass doors. The Brood attacking her closed in, but she phased through, leaving it to shatter the doors going after her.

"Help!" She shrieked, trying to keep her distance. Marrow and Colossus both came charging in.

"Piotr, we need you out here!" Iceman called, swinging his hands at another Brood. Grudgingly, Colossus returned to the melee on the porch.

"Guard Kitty," he ordered to Marrow.

"Don't need to tell me twice," she replied. Marrow, holding spikes in each hand, with bones popping out all along her arms and torso, raced in after the Brood. It spun around and opened its mouth wide. Marrow tried to plunge one of the spikes down the creature's throat, but it pivoted to a different angle, and she merely stabbed air. Taking the oppurtunity, the Brood close its massive mouth around her body. She screamed, trying to maneuver a bone to hurt it, but to no avail.

"Sara!" Shadowcat yelled. She hurried forward, phasing through the Brood and grabbing her friend, taking the two of them down to a lower floor with the creature's removed head.

"Not bad," Marrow said, seeing what Kitty had done.

"Are you hurt bad?" Shadowcat asked.

"I'll manage," Marrow replied, though she was clearly in pain. She looked around, seeing that they were in a kitchen. "We need to get back out there."

"I really don't want to," Kitty said. "Those things are more than I can handle."

"Kitty!" Sara picked up the creature's head. "Look at what you just did to this thing. Even Wolverine is having a harder time with them."

While the two girls argued, something crawled into the kitchen. It was a dark-purplish lizard thing with wings that it didn't seem to want to be using.

"Whoah," Shadowcat muttered. "What is that thing?"

"I don't know, but be careful," Marrow answered, holding a blunt bone as a weapon. Kitty approached it, and it cowered back.

"Hey now, it's okay," she whispered. It approached, slowly. Kitty petted its head. "I think this thing is friendly. Probably hiding from all the Brood upstairs."


Those Brood upstairs were not fairing well. Only two were left, and they were fighting each other.

"Go Frazier!" Warren shouted, seeing the lighter-toned one lunge for its opponent.

"Come on Foreman, you can do it!" Forge called. 'Frazier' was missing a forearm, but was fighting tenaciously. 'Foreman' was trying desperately to shake it off. Something flew in behind them.

"What the hell?" Iceman muttered. It opened its mouth, and a massive flame came out, burning the two Brood to a crisp.

"Last one to stop wriggling is the winner," Warren said. Forge nodded in agreement.

"Enough!" Someone yelled. The X-Men looked up at the roof. The pale man who, the previous week, had been monitering the Brotherhood in Washington DC looked down at them. "These may not be the strongest Brood I've created-"

Created? Thought Iceman.

"-But that doesn't matter. My... other creations will finish this. And this time there will be nothing to joke about!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, bub?" Wolverine demanded.

"I am going to be a king of these lands one day," the stranger replied. "And you can not get in my way! Attack!" A swarm of the small fire-breathers started to fly in.

"Any ideas?" Psylocke asked, as the team got into a cluster.

"Hope these things are easy to catch," Iceman replied.
 
cool stuff. I didn't get to update this weekend because of a Christian Youth Convention I attended.

hope you get back to the recruiment of the new brotherhood members soon. That stuff is cool.
 
that'll come up soon. i added the bit where magneto shows avalanche the pictures just to remind people that it is coming (hint: not everyone he wants will be willing). right now, i have this bit with the brood and the man who 'created' them. it will play a major part in the overall plot in the end, because it really kickstarts one of the major storylines.
 
The little flying creatures, which strongly resembled tiny dragons, held the X-Men in place. None had actually attacked, but after what one had done to the two Brood, it was unlikely that they would be easily taken care of.



"I really think they need us up there," Shadowcat pleaded. She clutched the timid little creature from the kitchen as if it were a puppy dog.

"Kitty, look at all those things out there," Marrow responded. "There's got to be over a hundred out there, and they aren't exactly looking to cuddle like your new buddy here." The little creature's ears perked up. "Yeah, we're talking about you. How do you know this thing isn't gonna spring up and shred us, anyway?"

"If if wanted to, it would have by now," Kitty responded. She stroked its head. "I wonder if it's a boy or a girl."

"You aren't keeping that thing, are you?" Marrow asked.

"Why not?"

"I doubt the Professor would be too happy. Puff's relatives are all out there, surrounding the rest of the team, and we're in here coddling it."

"You're the one who said we should stay in here!" Shadowcat protested.



The wait for anything eventful was agonizing to some. Ironically, the most patient was the first to see action. One of the dragons swooped in at one point, making a dive at Storm, when Wolverine hopped in front of her and impaled it through the neck on one of his claws

"I have an offer for all of you," the pale man said. "Join me in my efforts, and you will be one of the Ascended Twelve, as I am to be. This, my master has guaranteed."

"The hell is he talking about?" Warren asked. "Bob, did I miss something?"

"Can't say I know what he's going on about either," Iceman replied.

"Power!" The pale man shouted. "I am talking about power!"

"Nut," Bishop muttered.

"Am I?" The stranger asked. He examined Bishop from a distance. "That 'M', what is it for?"

"None of your business!" Bishop snapped. A group of dragons circled him, pushing the other X-Men away. "What? You guys don't like me yelling at your boss?"

"Bishop, don't egg them on," Iceman ordered.

"I'm fine," the enigmatic mutant said. "Come on and take a shot!"

The dragons opened their mouths.

"Dammit Bishop!" Iceman yelled. He got in front of Bishop and created a wall of ice in front of them, then built it all the way around the group.

"What do you hope to accomplish?" The pale man mocked. "These are fire-breathers, and that is ice!"

"He's got a point," Warren said.

The pale man was ready to order the armada of dragons to destroy them, when he froze in place.

"No!" He shouted. "Please, let me finish!" The X-Men listened from inside the dome. "Very well." He guestured to some of the dragons to melt the dome. "You are lucky today. Remember, though, that you refused Sinister's offer, and you will one day be destroyed." He closed his eyes, put his hand over his chest, and disappeared. The dragons vanished shortly, as well.

"We refused his sinister offer?" Wolverine wondered alould. "Kinda cheesy, isn't it?"

"No, not his sinister offer," Iceman said. "Sinister's offer."

"They all gone?" The group turned to the glass door, which slid open. Marrow and Shadowcat came through.

"You missed the best part," Nightcrawler deadpanned. "The crazy man was talking to himself. And why the hell do you have one of those dragons?"

"I tried to talk her out of it," Marrow said.

"He's nice," Shadowcat argued. "We found him inside. I think he was hiding from the fight."

"Kitty, be realistic," Iceman said, approaching them and turning back into his normal form. "A swarm of those things just tried to fry us, and you think that this one is friendly?"

"Why not?"

"That guy said that he made them. I doubt he made a few cuddly ones to pad the group out."

"Hold on," Wolverine said. "Lemme check it out." Kitty clutched the dragon, which was looking at Logan. "Come on now, Kitty. I'm good with animals."

"No."

"Katya," Colossus said, stepping out from the group, "trust him, please."

"Piotr, don't you go siding with them!"

"I think Logan can tell if we can trust this creature or not," the massive mutant reasoned. "Please." Kitty looked at Marrow.

"Just do it," Sara moaned. Grudgingly, Shadowcat relinquished the dragon. It jumped happily into Logan's arms.

"Hey, he is kinda cute," Wolverine said. He looked into its eyes, seeming to expect it to start talking. It stretched its head up, and licked him in the face. "Ah hell, let's give it a chance."

"Xavier is not going to be happy about this," Iceman muttered. "Okay, speaking of him, we really need to get home and make sure nothing's come at him, like these things did. Can you give us a hand, Warren?"

"No problem, though I doubt the chopper's got the gas for the trip to New York," Warren replied. "I'll get on the horn to some company people, and get you guys seats on one of our jets."

"Here that?" Kitty said to the dragon, who had rejoined her.

"I'd also advise you to tag along," Bobby said to Warren. "In case that guy comes back, you won't be safe here."

"You're probably right. Everyone can feel free to hang out inside until I have all the flight arrangements made."



Let me show you my card! Sabretooth thought, bitterly, clutching his left hand. Cocky French *******! Hope he joins up. Earlier that day, he'd approached Remy Lebeau to join the Brotherhood, under Magneto's orders. The tricky little bastard had handed him a playing card, and it had exploded right in Victor's hand! The cajun mutant had then run off, laughing like a fool. Victor's healing abilities were helping, but it still stung. It would probably be a few hours before his hand was back to normal. Now, he was close to his quarry. It wasn't like hunting animals, as he wasn't to kill Remy, which was a little disappointing, but Sabretooth liked the feeling of hunting again. After hours of running through alleys, shaking down unfortunate locals, and tearing through back rooms where Remy Lebeau might be hiding, he located him out in a swamp.

"Come here often?" Remy asked, sitting in a tree.

"Buddy, you're lucky I'm not here for a fight," Sabretooth sneered.

"Aw, come on, mon ami, I don' think you really all that upset from our 'previous meetin''. That hand a' yours be doin' just fine, which be more dan most kin say when Gambit be through wit' 'em."

"Gambit, eh?" Sabretooth said. "That what they call you?"

"Dat what I call muhself."

"Have you ever heard how normal English is supposed to sound?"

"In N'aw'leans, dis how we talk," Remy said. He jumped down from the tree. "Now, why you be followin' me so much?"

"I've got an offer?"

"Oh?"

"Ever heard of Erik Lensherr?" Sabretooth asked.

"Nah."

"He's my boss. Does 'Magneto' sound a little more familiar?"

"Yeah! Magneto want Gambit?"

"Precisely. Magneto want Gambit. Magneto also want mutants who know good grammar."

"Boy, you pushin' yer' luck," Gambit said.

"Yes or no, Cajun."

"You tell Magneto dat Gambit'll do whatever he needs."

"Excellent. Now," Sabretooth grabbed Gambit's arm, and twisted it around. "Gonna apologize for what you did before? Consider this hazing."
 
The defenses were tight that night at the Xavier Institute. If anything larger than a squirrel dared enter the grounds, it would be fried. Inside, Professor Xavier was more anxious than he'd been in a long time. There was, obviously, the stranger who had attacked his students with his army of monsters, along with the prescence of Sabretooth in Louisiana, apparently coming in contact with Remy Lebeau, who the Professor had hoped to recruit himself one day, and then there was the matter of what he'd seen on the news.

"After careful consideration," the anchor had said, "the President has ordered Project Wideawake to be restarted. Bolivar Trask, the head engineer of the project, says that the Sentinels will now be equipped with better reasoning systems as to not cause damage to public property, like what happened a few weeks ago in New York City." Feed cut to footage of the clash between the students and the Sentinels. "Critics say that this is an anti-mutant act on the president's part, and are saying that his decision is no less than authoritarian." It cut to an interview with Trask.

You are a madman, Xavier thought. On the tv, Trask railed about how Project Wideawake was absolutely necessary, how its detractors were soft on mutant terrorism, and how he was reasonable and they were irrational.




Two guards stood deathly still outside the cell with the thick door. The warden examined them, turned, and left. One let out a sigh.

"What time is it?" He asked in Russian. The other looked at his watch.

"About ten-thirty," the second guard replied, looking at his watch. "Why?"

"I'm running a little late." The first guard swung his foot out, kicking his colleague in the chest. Stunned, the other guard watched him transform into a blue skinned, red-haired woman. Mystique shot the guard in the neck, took his key, and opened the door.

"What do they hope to accomplish if this thing can open so easily?" She wondered out loud. Inside, there was a large, pale man with long, blonde hair. "Arkady Rossovich?"

"Who are you?" The man said, speaking English in a thick Russian voice.

"I'm your break-out," Mystique replied. "That is, if you come with me."

"To where?"

"Salvation, victory," Mystique paused, searching for another word. "To Magneto."

"I- I work for no one. I know of Magneto, and I am not interested."

"Then you will rot here!" Mystique snapped, trying to close the door. Arkady shot up and crashed his shoulder into her.

"No, you will rot," he seethed. He pointed an open palm towards her, and a white tentacle emerged. It constricted her, and started draining the energy from her body. After a few moments, he let go. Mystique stirred on the floor. "Never cross Omega Red!" He shouted. The long-incarcerated Soviet terrorist Omega Red was free at last. That night, he killed seven people, stole a vehicle, and made his way out of Siberia. In days, he would be in Moscow, where he could tell the world that the great Communist empire would soon rise again.

Mystique, on the other hand, had to be carried away in shame by Mastermind, who waited on the other side of the prison for her, expecting Omega Red to be with her. Magneto would not be happy, that they knew.
 
bored said:
It wasn't like hunting animals, as he wasn't to kill Remy, which was a little disappointing, but Sabretooth liked the feeling of hunting again.
Click to expand...

whoa..dude. I worte my part about sabretooth liking to hunt before i read this line. I didn't still it from ya.

but that is kinda freaky coinsadince (i dont know how to spell it)
 
coincidence. and hey, if you're writing for sabretooth, you need that.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------


It hung there in storage. Warren Worthington stared at it. It seemed to call to him.

"I'm here. I'm wrapped up in all this again. Why not?" He said to himself. He remembered how it felt to wear it, to fly in it. It always amazed him when it still fit right. How the gloves conformed to his fingers when they became talons. How somehow, it was never difficult to get his wings in just the right way.

"Reminiscing?" A female British voice said, accompanying a sudden flood of light filling the entrance to the room. Warren glanced back at Betsy Braddock.

"Looking at my old uniform," he said, wistfully. "It gets kind of wierd when I remember my team on the team."

"Was it a wierd time?" Betsy asked.

"What isn't?" Warren replied. "Before you guys became the 'new' X-Men, the Professor talked to us, me, Bobby, Scotty, Hank, and Jean, the first five, and invited us to come back-"

"Which Bobby took," Betsy cut in. "Go on."

"Yeah, he took it, and I declined, because I'm pretty much in charge of my family's business," he explained. "Thing is, I really, really did not want to do it like that. This team is the only thing in my life that has ever had any meaning. Otherwise, I'm just some rich boy who also happens to have wings."

"That's a big just," Betsy responded. "Though I suppose I could sympathise. I was never exactly poor."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"Oh? How?" Betsy asked.

"You don't remember me?"

"No. And I think I would if we'd met."

"Because of my wings?" Warren asked. "I was a little young for it then. I was twelve. They were small enough then that I could hide them. You weren't that old then, I don't think, but I remember your name."

"How old are you, Warren?"

"30."

"I'm 25," Betsy said. "I was only seven, then. I couldn't exactly remember you. And why would you remember my name?"

"Braddock. Your family and mine are business associates," Warren said. "My mom made me dance with you at a gala my uncle was holding. I was a little uncomfortable, I must admit."

"Understandable," Betsy said, suppressing a laugh. "Must've been awful. I think it was a few years before pre-pubuscent boys were interested in me. But Warren, I really do understand what you mean about your contrasting lives. Being part of this group is nothing like being a rich girl at Cambridge, or being a model."

"You went to Cambridge?"

"Only because I had the money."

"Hell, that's the same reason I got into Wellesley."

"Warren, Wellesley is an all-girls school," Betsy said.

"When did I say I studied there?" He grinned. "Though I suppose it helped me get Vassar, too." He turned his attention back to his old uniform. "You should've seen my face when I first wore this. Thing is seriously form-fitting. It leaves little to the imagination."

"Oh, you think that that red and white number is bad?" Betsy asked. She crossed the room, to a rack with several plastic bags containing the current team members uniforms. "The Professor had them dry-cleaned while we were attempting a vacation." She pulled her dark unitard out. "Try this for 'little to the imagination'. It's flattering, but something that just makes your muscles stand out is nothing compared to this."

"Ah, good ol' Professor," Warren smirked. "He tried something like that on Lorna when she first joined up."

"The fem-Magneto?"

"That is a perfect way of putting it!" He cried. "The lady is a dictator with boobs. Though I suppose I was a little harsh on her. See, her last name is Dane."

"Oh, you're kidding!" Betsy laughed. "Lorna Dane?"

"I called her Cookie-Girl when she first came to the Institute," Warren said. "Found out that she had a crush on me, so I cut that out. Went on one date with her, and I couldn't stand her. Yaks so damn much about herself. About a week later, we all got into a game of strip-poker to kill some time, and she said that she was only gonna play one more hand. Of course, we hadn't even gotten her out of her top yet, so we begged her to stay, and came up with a little deal. Somebody got a royal flush on the next hand, and she would have to stay in 'til she didn't even have jewelry on. She got cocky, and said that if anyone could get that hand, and if it were the right suit, which we made sure of before we dealt, she'd sleep with them."

"Do go on," Betsy said, enjoying the story. Warren led her out of the storage room as he talked.

"Well, the suit was diamond, and the flop was 10 diamond, 3 spade, king diamond. Next two cards were jack diamond and ace of clubs. Naturally, someone set down his hand, and he had a queen and an ace, suited."

"Diamonds, I assume," Betsy said.

"Yeah," Warren replied. "Alex Summers, Scott's brother, got it. Me, I was hoping that Jean would be the one to get it."

"That type, are you?" Betsy asked, flirtasiously.

"I'm a guy, aren't I?" Warren replied. "But yeah, Alex got it, and they've been together ever since. I think she surgically inserted a piece of steel in him so that she could keep him locked up. Ya' know they got married three months after that?"

"Not into wasting time, are they?"

"No." Warren paused. "How'd we get into this?"

"Cookie-girl wore a scanty get-up," Betsy cracked, though it was true. "So, tell me a little about your life now..."




"Are you not too warm?" A chubby man asked in Russian. His passenger was deathly pale, and heavily bundled.

"I am fine," the passenger said. "You look a little off yourself."

"Just... You would find it horribly silly of me," the driver said, looking back to the sole passenger of his bus. "How many jackets do you have on?"

"Three."

"Three, and at least the top one looks very nice," the driver said. "Twenty years ago, that wasn't possible."

"What do you mean?" The passenger asked.

"Under the old Communist regime, you could not even have one nice jacket unless you were in government."

"You were not a believer in the Soviet dream?"

"What dream? It was a failure once Stalin took over."

Hours later, the bus pulled up in Moscow. The pale passenger exited. The passenger had also driven for the last few miles. The driver lay dead in the back of the bus. When he was discovered later, the time of death could not be determined for over a week. The doctors said that the life had just disappeared out of him. There were strange welts and bruises around his torso, but none seemed like they could kill a man.

In downtown Moscow, the thing that caused those marks was busy searching for his old apartment, to rest before he began his mission. Omega Red had returned to the capital of Russia.
 
It was an uncomfortable moment, realizing that he'd be stuck with that irritating fanatic for at least fifteen minutes.

"This is a damn set-up, I know it," William Stryker groaned. "You've wanted to preach to me for years about how I'm anti-human or something moronic like that, and this was your perfect oppurtunity."

"General Stryker, with all due respect, that is a silly accusation," Bolivar Trask responded. "What could I do to the elevator? Especially in a government facility?"

"Plenty of things, you creep. You know that Secretary Stark only allows your activities for public image, right?" Stryker mocked. "I've talked to him, and he says that he personally thinks those Sentinel robots are awful. Too bad the taxpayers love giant robots. I blame the movie industry."

"General, I merely want to police a potentially dangerous faction-"

"They aren't a faction, Goddammit!" Stryker roared. "They're people who were born differently, and some have been driven to violence by redneck creeps like you!"

"Redneck?" Trask snapped, getting defensive, himself. "I am one of the leading engineers in this country, General Stryker! I was born and raised in Connecticut. I am not, by any definition, a 'redneck'. You, on the other hand, are a military man who knows how to fix the carbeurator on a '54 Chevelle like no other. Further more, I know for a fact that you are from Oklahoma. If either of us is a 'redneck', it is you. Oh, and don't forget your insistance on holding on to an idea that is not based on any form of logic at all." Stryker shoved Trask into a wall of the elevator.

"Listen, you son of a *****!" He seethed. "I know mutants-"

"In the Biblical sense, as well as modern," Trask cracked, unwisely. "By the way, how is your wife? Oh, that's right. You don't know! More mutant criminals kidnapped her, and you can't find her!" He smiled, and advanced on the tougher, but still shorter, General Stryker. "I know that you've been going to Professor Xavier for help, General, and that you've gotten nothing from him. Do you know why? Because he doesn't want to help you! He's just helping Magneto hide your wife from you!"

"THAT IS IT!" Stryker roared. He grabbed Trask by the neck, and shoved him back into the wall. "Listen, you ****e, if we weren't here, I'd kill for you for that! You stay out of my private business, you hear me? I'm not really the most moral person on Earth, and I've proved that before. I could have you completely erased for the **** you pull. I could go into any federal prison, have any of the best hackers we've ever caught put under my supervision, and have him tell the Sentinels that you're a mutant! They'll vaporize you!"

The elevator started to move. Stryker let the frightened scientist go. Finally the door opened, releasing the two rivals. As they left, Stryker had one last thing to say.

"They didn't make Chevelles in '54, moron."



It had been a bad week for Bolivar Trask. Aside from that confrontation in the Pentagon with Stryker, his wife had said that she wanted a trial seperation from him, and he knew that that could not end well. When he got back to the factory that housed Project Wideawake, he was all but ready to yank out his own hair.

"MASTER," came that always loud and monotone voice. "YOU ARE DISTRESSED."

"Yes, yes that's right, Bastion," Trask said to his favorite Sentinel. "I had a rough day."

"WAS IT 'THE *****'?" Bastion asked.

"Please don't say that. Any workers that may still be here could hear you," Trask pointed out.

"ALL OTHER HUMANS HAVE LEFT. MAY I ADD THAT MOST KNOW OF YOUR MARITAL TROUBLES ALREADY?"

"Bastion!" Trask snapped. "Don't be offended, Bastion, but the advanced AI that I've given you is sort of frowned upon by my superiors at the Department of Defense."

"MASTER, WHY IS YOUR NECK BRUISED? WERE YOU IN AN ALTERCATION?" Bastion asked.

"A small one. Don't worry about it. General Stryker and I had a run-in."

"SHOULD I DEAL WITH HIM? HE IS KNOWN AS A MUTANT SYMPATHIZER."

"No, Bastion, just let it go," Trask ordered. He was reverting back to the twitchy, somewhat crazy man he could be when working with his Sentinels. It was a far cry from the condescending, assertive man he'd been around Stryker. "How has production been today?"

"THE WEAPONS UPGRADES TO THE NEW SENTINELS HAVE GONE WELL SO FAR."

"No accidents?"

"NONE."

"Excellent. And what of your own upgrades? The ones I programmed you to work on?"

"COMPLETE."

"Already? I'm impressed. Now, if you'd excuse me, Bastion, I just need to retrieve some papers from my office." Trask walked away, leaving the Sentinel where it stood. Bastion remained there for an hour, letting Trask collect his materials, say goodbye, and leave, then leaving some extra time for safety's sake. Instead of shutting down for the night, as he was supposed to do, Bastion opened the large door that was there for the Sentinels should they need to be deployed. Since the New York incident, this second factory was created to process Sentinels at almost the same rate that the Michigan plant did. Once Project Wideawake was restarted, Bastion was always there, providing company to his master, Bolivar Trask. Bastion ambled out the door, and flew off, heading to the home of General William Stryker.



"Put that down!" The boss at the construction site ordered. "Listen, buddy, we all like to show off, but come on, we need that!"

"Do I have to?" The Blob said, jokingly. "Well, I suppose. You guys are alright, ya know that?" He put the massive crane down. "So hey, I'm lookin' for a guy who works here, his names is Guthrie. Know him?"

"Yeah," the foreman said. "Hold on, big guy. Hey, Sam, you got a visitor! Lucky you we're not busy today." A young blonde man approached them. "What'd you say your name was, again?"

"Dukes. Fred Dukes," Blob said. "You Sam Guthrie?"

"You know it," the young man answered. "What can I do for you? And why the hell are you here without a hard hat?"

"Did you not just see what I did with that crane?" Dukes asked, confused.

"Yeah, but that don't mean much," Guthrie said. "You could really get hurt here."

"I. Just. Lifted. A. Crane. Over. My. Head," Blob said, trying to get the idea to the young man.

"Haha, yeah, I know," Guthrie said. "I'm just messin' with ya'. So, I'm takin' it you're a mutant."

"Naturally," Blob replied. "People here don't seem to mind."

"Yeah, well, my family's got a lot of friends," Guthrie said, leading Blob away from the site. "A bunch of us have been mutants for the last fifty years or so."

"That long, eh? Not just part of the recent boom?"

"Nah, us Guthries, we're originals," Sam Guthrie laughed. "So we don't have too many mutant-haters in this town. So what can I do for you?"

"I'd like to offer you a job," Blob said.

"I got one."

"Yeah, I noticed. I mean a real job."

"What's wrong with construction?"

"Look, Guthrie, you know who Magneto is, right?" Blob asked, cutting to the chase.

"Yeah. Guy freaks me out," Guthrie answered. "I mean, I'm into what he does, to an extent at least, but he seems too intense for me. Alot of my friends are regular humans, so I'm really into killing 'em all. A little superiority, I think we can all appreciate that, but killing is too much."

"Magneto only kills those who have to be killed," someone said. Toad bounced in.

"Morty, I thought you were waiting in the van," Blob said.

"I got bored," Toad said.

"Who's the Limey?" Guthrie asked.

"Name's Mort Toynbee," Toad said. "I'm with Freddie."

"'Nother Magneto crony?"

"I'm not a crony," Toad said. "Me and Fred are both lieutenants in the Brotherhood of Mutants. We're an organization dedicated to making grand statements about mutant rights."

Within a few minutes, Toad had outlined a way to make the Brotherhood sound attractive to Samuel Guthrie.

"How'd you do that, anyway?" Blob asked.

"Listen, Fred," Toad explained, "I may be ugly, but I'm still English. And he is still Southern." As they talked, a light charged towards them, and smashed into Blob. He barely flinched, but the ball veered off, crashing into a tree.

"That was fun!" Sam Guthrie shouted. "Sorry, but I always wanted to do that to a fat guy."

"Remind me again why the boss wants this guy?" Blob whispered.
 
One of the special upgrades that Trask had designed for his pet project, the robot Bastion, was a radar jam. Of course that meant extremely little when a massive robot was flying through the sky, other than that it could have been stopped earlier. By the time it reached the Stryker home, police were already pursuing it, and at least two news outlets had sent out vans to cover this late night disturbance. When it landed in the middle of Stryker's back yard, cops were pouring in, guns drawn.

"STAND DOWN, LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICIALS," Bastion said. His robotic voice boomed in the night sky. A man shoved his way through the police officers and the soldiers who were taking up the rear of the throng. He had an eyepatch.

"Okay, Robocop, you know who I am!" General Nicholas Fury shouted.

"YOU ARE NICHOLAS FURY, FOUR-STAR GENERAL OF THE ARMY OF THE UNITES STATES," Bastion replied. "WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS HERE, GENERAL?"

"My business?!" Fury snapped. "You and all the Sentinels were created solely for policing mutant criminal activities, not freaking out the suburbs in DC. What's your business?"

"I AM HERE TO ADMINISTER PUNISHMENT TO GENERAL WILLIAM STRYKER," Bastion said. "HE IS A KNOWN MUTANT SYMPATHIZER AND HAS COMMITTED ACTS OF VIOLENCE TO MY CREATOR, DR. BOLIVAR TRASK."

"Speaking of Trask," Fury said, "we're bringing the creep here, robot! Daddy's not gonna be happy. Or at least, he'd better not be."

"DO NOT STAND IN MY WAY, GENERAL FURY."

"Are you trying to give me an order, Sentinel?" Fury asked, approaching the robot. "You are completely out of line!" While he shouted, Stryker pushed through the soldiers and police offers.

"What the hell are you doing in my backyard!" Stryker shouted.

"GENERAL STRYKER, YOU ARE ACCUSED OF ASSAULTING A SCIENTIST IN EMPLOYMENT OF THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE," Bastion accused.

"That's for people like me to deal with," General Fury cut in. "This is nothing you have authority over."

"Excuse me, excuse me!" Bolivar Trask shoved himself into the yard. "Bastion, what are you doing?"

"I AM HERE TO ARREST A VIOLENT CRIMINAL."

"Dammit, Bastion, I told you to stay out of this!" Trask cried. "Please don't mess this up for me!"

"What the hell did you do, Trask?" Fury demanded. "I know about your run-in with Bill in the elevator, but what is that damn robot doing, and why does it have a name?"

"Bastion was an early Sentinel that had manufacturing troubles. I kept him for myself and tried out some AI techonology I'd been designing on him. He wasn't supposed to do anything like this. I just griped to him a little when I stopped by the factory."

"DR. TRASK DID NOT ORDER MY CURRENT ACTIONS."

"See!"

"Get him out of here!" Stryker growled. He approached Trask.

"STAY AWAY FROM THE MASTER."

"Master?" Fury muttered.

"Piss off, Terminator!" Stryker yelled. Bastion made his move, moving forward, grabbing Stryker, and flying off.

"Trask, you are getting it for this," Fury growled. "Come on, men! We've got a... Well... A damn big robot to go after!"



Bastion made no attempts to fly over unpopulated areas now. He wasn't even going back to the factory. No, now he had a different target in mind: the Xavier Institute in New York. Bastion had just enough fuel to make it there and back. As the robot flew over a skyscraper in Washington DC, where the military was scrambling to be ready to knock it down without injuring General Stryker, someone who was less concerned with military procedure was tailing it.

Stryker could say exactly what he thought when the Sentinel jerked to a stop in the air for weeks after that. It involved alot of profanity. As Bastion tried to free itself, Stryker could see some sort of rope anchoring the robot down. Soon, several more were holding it from other spots. Stryker didn't have his glasses on, but he swore in his head that the ropes looked strangely like... webbing.
 
spider-man?

this story just keeps getting better and better.
 
"DESIST," Bastion ordered. He/it seemed to be focusing on the wall of a tall building close by. Bastion struggled to fly away, but wasn't able to. Stryker looked, and saw someone clinging to the side of the building. His suit was red and blue, and it completely covered his body. There was a thunk! and another man was on Bastion. This one was clad all in black, with a white emblem on his chest. His mouth was huge, and was filled with menacing white teeth.

"Let him go," the one on the Sentinel ordered.

"DESIST," Bastion repeated.

"No," the black-suited man said, bluntly. He made an attempt at Bastion's hand to free Stryker. Bastion swung his arm, knocking the black-suit off of him. As he fell, Stryker's attempted rescuer reached his arm out, and more of the white rope/webbing shot out, catching Bastion's mobile arm. He swung on it, and onto another skyscraper, which he then attached the rope to. He climbed up the side, not seeming to need any grips, and lept back onto Bastion. The other man, in the red and blue, followed.

"GET OFF OF ME," Bastion ordered, now fully immobile.

"This stuff holds up better than I realized," Black-Suit said.

"You'll get used to it," Red-and-Blue-Suit replied.

"Stop chatting!" A commanding voice called. "Help General Stryker, please."

"DR. OTTO OCTAVIUS, DO NOT INTERFERE," Bastion said.

"Octavius?" Stryker whispered to himself. A man who many said bore an uncanny resemblance to Alan Arkin in "Wait Until Dark" was on the top of the building. He had four large metal tentacles stemming from his back.

"William, are you alright?" Otto "Dr. Octopus" Octavius asked, climbing down the side of the building and onto Bastion with his tentacles.

"Been better," Stryker replied. "Think you can give me a hand."

"I have a few to spare," Octavius grinned. "Eddie, Peter, keep the Sentinel from making any sudden moves, please."

"I think we've already done that," the red-and-blue suited one responded.

Octavius's tentacles grabbed Bastion's hand, and tore it off with a little struggle. Two lifted up Stryker, and the others carried them back onto the rooftop.

"Fury should be here soon," Dr. Octopus said. "He asked me to step in and intercept the robot. Those two men are my lab assistants, Eddie Brock and Peter Parker."

"What the hell did you do to them?" Stryker asked, clutching his side, still reeling a little from being gripped by Bastion.

"Peter's condition was a bit of an accident," Octavius explained. "He was exposed to a an experiment of mine, a radiation-doused jumping spider. His condition grew out of control after some time, nearly turning him into an actual spider, so I created a substance to tame his transformation. That in itself became a different entity, splitting from him and attaching to Eddie, giving him similar talents."

"Otto," Stryker said.

"Yes?"

"You are still one of the strangest people I know."

"Isn't that why you respect me?"

"Yeah."

"Hey Doc!" Peter, the one in the red and blue suit, shouted. "What do we do now?" He cocked his head, and jumped off of the robot, with Eddie following. Bastion was starting to struggle violently. In the distance, military choppers were finally catching up. Bastion's chest lit up, shooting a beam from the center. He wriggled in a way that it hit one of the webs holding him, vaporizing it.

"Peter, Eddie, get General Stryker to safety," Octavius ordered.

"You sure, Doc?" Eddie asked.

"Venom, get out. I can handle this."

"Venom?" Stryker asked.

"He's lucky," Peter said. "He named me Spider-Man."

"Stop whining and go!" Octavius shouted. Bastion broke free, and took to the air.

"SURRENDER GENERAL STRYKER TO ME."

"Shut up," Octavius ordered.

"I AM ENFORCING THE LAW OF THE UNITED STATES, DR. OCTAVIUS," Bastion reasoned. "DO NOT INTERRUPT ME."

"You?" Octavius laughed, raising himself up on his tentacles. "With all due respect, robot, I was an Avenger for ten years. You have probably only existed for a few months, at best. I have seniority over you."

"IRRELEVANT."

Venom swung off with Stryker in tow, and Spider-Man followed.

"STAND DOWN, DR. OCTAVIUS," Bastion commanded.

"For a robot, not a chance!" Octavius sprung up, and lashed out with one of his tentacles. It smacked Bastion in the head, as the other ones latched onto his body. Bastion took off into the air, with Octavius's steel tentacles alternating between holding onto him and smacking him. With his remaining hand, Bastion blasted one of the tentacles, knocking it off of him, but not damaging it. He rose higher into the air.

"THIS IS A MISTAKE, DR. OCTAVIUS."

"So formal, aren't you?" Dr. Octopus replied. The tentacles on his left side tore into Bastion's chest, tearing the top layer of metal casing away.

"CHEST DAMAGED. PRIMARY REPULSOR RAY INOPERABLE WITHOUT HIGH PROBABILITY OF MELTDOWN."

"Is that so?" On the end of each of Octavius's tentacles were three claw-like grippers, like the ones at an arcade game where one grabs a stuffed animal. One such set straightened into sharp points, and started spinning. Octavius dug them into Bastion's chest. The robot started to rock in the air. Now, only holding on by one tentacle, Octavius became relentless in his attacks. The robot couldn't position his one arm in a way to fire at Octavius without harming himself. He opened his mouth, and a smaller beam hit Octavius in the chest. His shirt had a whole burned through it, but the attack wasn't strong enough to really hurt Dr. Octopus.

"Is that it?" Octavius mocked. Bastion started to desend. Octavius pulled back the top left tentacle like a boxer about to deliver a winning punch. It shot forward, and knocked Bastion's head clean off. Octavius hopped off, landed on a rooftop, and caught the destroyed robot. There was no helipad there, but General Fury had his chopper land there anyway. He jumped out, with Bolivar Trask being dragged behind.

"Bastion!" Trask cried. He passed Octavius, to the head of his creation.

"What the hell?" Octavius muttered.

"Some special Sentinel he rigged up to be his buddy," Fury explained. "Thing apparently got a mind of its own, and went to 'deal' with Stryker after they had a little run in."

"He's a madman," said the former Avenger. Spider-Man swung down onto the roof, with Venom and Stryker following.

"You two did good," Fury said. "We had people in the DCPD watching for us. Too bad you weren't around for the Avengers, like Otto."

"Umm, thanks?" Venom said.

"I'd recommend the two of you retire for the night," Octavius advised. "This is excitement than I think you're used to. Feel free to come in a few hours late tomorrow."

"See ya' tomorrow, Doc!" Spider-Man yelled, already leaving.

"Well, he was in a hurry," Stryker noted.

"You don't know his wife," Venom answered. "Night, everybody!"

"Why?" Trask sobbed, not noticing the others. He held Bastion's head like a body.

"Trask, a broken toy is the least of your worries," Fury growled.

"Shut up!" Trask screamed.

"Shall we give him a moment to grieve?" Octavius suggested.

When they weren't looking, Trask pressed a button on Bastion's forehead, and a chip popped out. He slipped it into his pocket, and got up.
 
"...Did you, at any point, fear for the safety of yourself or any of your students after Project Wideawake started?" The lawyer asked Professor Charles Xavier.

"Yes," Xavier responded, from the stand. Bolivar Trask shifted in his own seat, while Bobby Drake, Logan, Ororo Monroe, and Henry McCoy watched.

"When the Sentinels confronted your students, Professor Xavier, did you try and take any action against Dr. Trask?" The lawyer asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"I..." Xavier paused to think. "I was afraid. I didn't think he would have just impulsively deployed the Sentinels, and that there was a good reason for the attack. I did not want to appear as if I was defending any sort of criminals. I obviously knew this as untrue, but if the Sentinels were-"

"Objection!" Trasks's lawyer yelled.

"Mr. Ketch, keep your voice down," the judge ordered. "Now what is your objection?"

"Professor Xavier was not called up to make up sob stories," the lawyer said.

"Sustained. Mr. Murdoch, please take the initiative not to let this happen," the judge ordered.

"I'm sorry, Your Honor. Professor, one last question: Do you think the Sentinel program would operate better without Dr. Trask?"

"This is the same question they asked me yesterday," Hank whispered to Bobby.

"Hank, I was there, remember?" Bobby whispered back.

"You were?"

"I think," Xavier said on the stand, "that it has the potential to operate better without him, yes. While I hate to sound rude- Wait. May I elaborate without the defense objecting?"

"Mr. Ketch, will you be alright with an explanation?" Murdoch asked the other lawyer, not without a tinge of condescension in his voice.

"I will be fine, Mr. Murdoch."

"Professor Xavier, please continue," Murdoch said.

"As I was saying, while I hate to sound rude, Dr. Trask is a highly delusional man, who seems more interested in having something to attack mutants with than actually policing the dangerous factions of our kind. Another supervisor, one who was less bigoted and less impulsive, would be extremely preferable."



"Do you think he'll be removed?" Logan asked, pushing Xavier's chair. The other students, along with Bobby, Warren, and Hank, followed.

"Yes, though I worry about how they will go about finding a replacement," Xavier answered. Kitty Pryde rushed ahead to open the door outside for them. "With a project like this, someone sympathetic to us will be hard to come by. Hank?"

"Yes?" Hank McCoy answered.

"Can you keep us updated on any developements?"

"Of course. I'm glad I have a way to help. I already talked to Secretary Stark about actually having a little say in the future of Project Wideawake," The former 'Beast' said, enthusiastically. "He can't guarantee that anyone pro-mutant will get the job, but he wants some balance in the operation."

"Excellent."

There was some silence on the way to the parking garage. Everyone was thinking about the dangerous possibilities coming with the Sentinels still existing, and with a new supervisor who could be better or worse than Bolivar Trask.



One of the cows wouldn't stop wandering away. It was a cold day, and John didn't feel like going out of his way to deal with an unruly cow. He pulled out a match, lit it, and held it out. The flame increased, and swirled to form a flaming fence around the herd.

"Stay in place!" He shouted.

"Rather harsh, aren't you?" A man with a European accent asked. John whirled around. "John Allardyce?"

"Ye', that's me," John answered. "What can I do for ya', mate?"

"My name is Erik Lensherr, and I have an offer for you."
 
"There," Sabretooth said, entering the Brotherhood board room, or the Legion of Doom, as Sam Guthrie had nicknamed it the day before. Magneto and the other lieutenants were waiting.

"There what?" Toad asked.

"There, as in, 'there, I've got the new members set', that's what," Sabretooth said, glaring. Magneto, who had set his helmet in front of him, but was starting to stand up, beckoned for Sabretooth to sit down.

"We have approached five mutants thus far," Magneto said. He picked up a remote, turned on a projector in the center of the table, and clicked to a picture of Remy Lebeau. "This is the Cajun thief. I've learned that his mind-controlling talents are actually quite weak, and only work in close range for short periods of time. What we do know, thanks to Victor, is that the rumor of him being able to create bombs by touch is true, and he is very good at that." Click. "This is Arkady Rossovich, better known as Omega Red, a former Soviet agent. We underestimated his strength and willingness, and Raven was unsuccesful in her attempt to recruit him. I personally will be traveling to Moscow, where I believe he may be hiding, to try and change his mind." Click. "This is Samuel Guthrie. Mortimer and Fred recruited him. He seems a bit nervous, but I imagine that he will end up being useful to us. He is extremely powerful, and may be the key to any future run-ins with the Xavier students." Click. "This girl's name is still unknown to us, and Jason says that he only briefly got to speak to her. Care to elaborate?"

"She vanished as soon as I mentioned you," Mastermind explained. "You didn't tell me she was a teleporter."

"I didn't know," Magneto groaned. "She's a mystery still. Did you get a name from her?"

"No," Mastermind asnwered.

"She said she thought he was cute," Mystique added. "Maybe he accidentally sent her a dirty image and she took off for that."

"Raven, keep that out of this room," Magneto ordered. "At least he wasn't beaten up by his mark." Mystique sunk back in her chair. "Lastly, I am happy to say that John Allardyce, the pyrotechnic from Australia, was more than willing to join. I see alot of promise in him."

"And alot of barbecued ribs on the weekends," Sabretooth cracked. Magneto put out his hand, and lifted up the wise-cracking mutant with his power, locking onto Sabretooth's adamantium-coated skeleton. "What?"

"Victor, that didn't even make sense," Magneto said, calmly. He set the mutant back down. "Now, we have a few more people to speak with. Victor, I'd like you to contact Ms. Orama yourself, as you two have a history, but you're not going to Japan for her. I have a feeling that the potential recruits from this little clan called the 'Morlocks', will not be easily persuaded, and I don't want us to be short-handed in case of a confrontation.



Kitty slinked up behind Piotr quietly. He was sitting on the grass, looking intently at something, doing what he always did: drawing. She phased through the blades of grass to keep them from making any noise under her feet.

"Whatcha drawing?" She asked suddenly, startling the Russian boy. He turned and glared at her.

"I was sketching a bird," he muttered. "You scared it off."

"Sorry," she said, hardly sounding sincere. "Hey, it isn't like you don't draw everything already."

"It is what I do," Piotr responded. He got up, and started for the woods. "I'm sure there are more like it nearby."

"Can I come?" Kitty asked.

"Will you stay quiet?"

"I was trying to before," Kitty pleaded. "Please? I want to see what you find." Piotr heaved a sigh.

"Alright." They settled by a large tree, where Piotr spotted a bird's nest to sketch. As he was almost done, leaves started to rustle. The adult bird in the nest looked defensive as a purplish reptile burst into view.

"Lockheed!" Kitty cried. "Bad Lockheed!" The little dragon stopped what it was doing, and flew down to Kitty. "I'm really sorry, Peter."

"It is okay," he responded, not bothering to point out that she'd gotten his name wrong again. "Why did you name it that?"

"I saw it on the Blackbird, and I liked it," Kitty answered. Lockheed flew into her arms. "I don't think he meant to mess up your picture."

"I got enough to finish it up before he came," Piotr explained. "I'm getting hungry. Should we go in now?"

"I guess," Kitty answered. She seemed disappointed.



Bolivar Trask aimed his gun, and fired at the target set up in his basement. He imagined that the paper target was many people. One shot and he was Secretary Stark, who constantly flip-flopped on the mutant issue that meant so much to Trask; another shot and he was that idiot General Nick Fury; another and it was Otto Octavius; another and it was Charles Xavier; the last few shots were for General William Stryker. He wanted to wring that idiot's neck. One shot was right between the target's eyes, the next its chest, and the last in the groin area.

"**** your mutie-wife now," Trask seethed. The phone wrang. Trask put his gun down, and took his time getting to the phone.

"Mr. Trask?" A man asked, on the other end of the call.

"Dr."

"Pardon me, Dr. Trask?" The man asked.

"What do you want?" Trask snapped. He checked his Caller ID, and saw that the call was overseas.

"My name is Henry Gyrich, we've met before," the caller said.

"I remember you, vaguely," Trask sat down on the nearest armchair. "Are you in Madagascar?"

"I see you've checked your Caller ID already," Gyrich laughed. "Yes and no. I'm calling from a small island near Madagascar. Have you heard of Madripoor?"

"Yeah, so what're you doing there?" Trask asked.

"I, Dr. Trask, am starting a movement. I found out about your dismissal from your own operation, and I'm very sorry."

"So send me a card."

"Bolivar, how would you like to come to Madripoor and restart the Sentinel program?" Gyrich asked.

"What?"

"My 'movement', Dr. Trask, is the beginning of the revolution against the mutant scourge, and I am basing it out of here. I should tell you that it is mainly for tax purposes, but that isn't important. I have the money and resources to fund your Sentinel program for years, and I want you to come here and oversee their production."

"So who would they be working for?"

"The Friends of Humanity, of course," Gyrich answered. "You've heard of them, right?"

"Yeah, and they seem like good people."

"I am a chief member."

"Congratulations," Trask deadpanned. "Why should I believe you, anyway?"

"Check your e-mail in an hour," Gyrich answered. "I'm sending you a list of information that I think will interest you. You have my number now. Feel free to respond if you will take up my offer."

Trask hung up the phone, got up, and hollered.

"Yes!" He sounded dismissive on the phone, but he had no doubt that Gyrich was legitimate, and that he was going to be relocation to Madripoor soon.
 
its really good man.

i'm just glad i worte the identical scene with sabertooth first this time :)
 
"Progress?" Professor Xavier asked. Forge had spent the last four hours taking information saved from Cerebro and converting it to possible coordinants.

"A little," Forge answere, his fingers still flying over the keyboard. "It's in the north hemisphere. That's it."

"That's alot, Forge," Xavier said. "We have that, and we know that it is in the Atlantic Ocean, probably relatively close to North America. How long do you think before my trace can give you something more specific?"

"That remains to be seen," Forge answered. "I'll tell you when anything more substantial comes up."

"Okay," Xavier turned his chair to leave. "And Forge, thank you for doing this. It is alot, even for a student of your capabilities, to take this on. I don't know anyone else who could alter the data I collected into something practical."

"That's why you should upgrade Cerebro to be more compatible with other computers," Forge explained."

"I want to keep it... How should I say it?" Xavier thought. "Private."

"Well, you found a hell of a way to do it."

"To record my actual thoughts, that is necessary," Xavier said. "I'll check in again in a little while. General Stryker is coming over, and I think he'll want to see what you are doing first hand."



"Nikolai?" Omega Red whispered. "Nikolai, is that you?"

Nikolai Gorbatova jumped. He dropped the box he'd been carrying, turned, and saw the man whose return he had both dreaded and desired for years.

"Arkady?" He asked in disbelief.

"It is I, Nik," Omega Red said, advancing on his old friend.

"You've gotten so pale," Nikolai said. "How did you escape?"

"Some Western harlot tried to recruit me for an army," Red answered. "Nikolai, what has happened to you? You're so... So weathered."

"Things have changed since you were imprisoned, my friend," Nikolai explained. "Come, and I'll take my lunch break to explain it all to you."

Red listened intently as his colleague told him about how hard it had been to keep the government from discovering the pair's connection, and how he'd had to go underground and eventually completely abandon his Communist activities. "I had to support my family," he said. He now worked as a shipping manager of a small snack food company, bitterly waiting to see if he'd ever have another oppurtunity to jump back into the Revolution. Now, with the mighty Omega Red back, he had his chance.
 
As William Stryker waited in the foyer, he opened up his wallet and examined a picture of his wife closely. It had been over a month since she'd been taken. Why hadn't she seen it happen earlier? He'd been pondering that question to himself over and over again. She had almost ruined the surprise honeymoon he'd planned for her when they first got married with those damn powers, so why didn't she see her own kidnapping? It didn't make sense. Unless...

"God, it makes so much sense!" He snapped. Stryker looked around, making sure nobody had heard his outburst. No one was there. Still, who knows who's powers could have helped them pick up on it. Not that it mattered. If only he still had Irene's diaries, he could see if she had something foreshadowing the kidnapping, maybe even the entire Washington DC attack. Of course, she had called him to warn him, so maybe she didn't have the visions until it was too late? No, that didn't matter. She always wrote them down.

"General Stryker?" It was Bobby Drake, the field leader.

"Hey Iceman, you taking me to see anything good?" Stryker asked, putting his picture away. He tried not to sound like he'd just had an epiphany.

"Possibly," Bobby answered. "Forge says he might've gotten a location where we could find the Brotherhood."

"And my wife," Stryker added, as they started off to the elevator taking them down into the bowels of the Xavier Institute.

"Right." They went down to the low level where Forge had spent hours plugging away on a large computer. As they stepped out into the sterile-looking steel hallway, Stryker decided he needed to mention something.

"You do realize that the military won't take them on, right?" He said.

"I didn't know they had made a final decision," Bobby answered.

"Well, they did," Stryker said. "They said it isn't worth the risk. Magneto alone could keep them from reaching the base. You add how dangerous his little group is, and we've got ourselves a real problem. I think you know where I'm going with this."

"Yeah, and you know that you've got the X-Men's support," Bobby said. "If Forge is right, then your wife is as good as saved."

"Let's hope so," Stryker sighed. They came to the room where Forge was working. Xavier waited by his side, with Warren Worthington. "What's the good word?"

"William," Xavier said, "I think we've done it."



Irene Adler-Stryker stirred. She was having a vision, and had nothing to write it down with. William would be so disappointed, she thought. The images started coming. There was fire, and screaming. Always the pleasant sights, came that slightly cynical voice in the back of her head, the one that always told her that she should have challenged Miss Cleo to a predict-off while she still had the chance. There were tight spaces in her vision, which was odd, but there was also a large, open area. It all added together to there being a massive conflict between many, many mutants soon. Things started to clear up in her mind's eye. She saw Charles Xavier, William's old friend, leading one faction behind him. There had to be a few dozen mutants there. On the other side was her captor Magneto, leading just as many mutants, a few of which she had now met. She saw them colliding into each other in a brilliant flash of light, and saw the image of some massive person, with an aura that radiated more evil than she could ever imagine watching over it all. She wanted to turn it off, but she couldn't. The blurred figure seemed to stand and laugh. Another figure approached him from behind, which he turned to face. Irene struggled to see who they were, and what they were doing, but couldn't. Eventually, her strain caused her to simply pass out.


END OF SECTION 2

-----------------------------------------------------------------------


in section 3, things are going to get big. mr. sinister will be popping up again, and you'll get a better idea of what he's up to; the brotherhood will swell up to nearly army-sized; and, by the time it is done, several mutants will be coming to xavier's side, as well. look for it soon.
 
OH!!! can't wait man. Your story just keeps getting better and better.
 
it'll be a few days before i recommence the story, so you'll have to wait a bit. in the meantime, anyone who's reading this is encouraged to tell me if there is anything they especially do/don't like so far.
 
Part 3, all you hookers and hoes.


"Today is the day," Nikolai said, leading Omega Red outside. "Remember, we just start by making a scene. Kill a few people, but nothing grand."

"Of course," Red responded. He was covered by a trenchcoat and a rather-awkward fedora. "And what of you?" Nikolia pulled a gun out of his pocket.

"I will be active as well, but you start off," he said. "Arkady?"

"Yes?"

"It is an honor to carry on the revolution with you."

"And you as well, old friend."

In the middle of a crowded street in downtown Moscow, Red threw off the trenchcoat, revealing the red uniform that he had once terrorized enemies of the Soviet Union with. All who saw him recognized him for who he was, and all ran in terror, many screaming madly. Omega Red released one of his white cables, grabbing an unlucky old man, and lifting him into the air. The man pleaded for mercy, but Red just laughed, and began draining the life from him. Police began arriving. Red tossed the man, drained to death, at one of them, knocking him back several feet.

"I have returned, and now all traitors will pay!" He roared. Someone shot, but the bullet didn't penetrate his uniform. Red's cable grabbed the officer who had fired, and instead of taking the time to drain, simply ripped off the arm holding the gun. The officer cried in agony as blood spurt from him. "Who else wishes to stand in my way?"

"That'd be me, Russky." Red wheeled around. A man nearly as big as him was in the street, holding Nikolai by the neck, ready to snap it. "You remember me?"

"I remember you, Western pig!" Red roared in English. "Sabretooth, isn't it?"

"That's right, Commie-boy," he snarled. "Now, I'm not under the same employment as I was when we last met, and I'm here to offer you a position with my new organization."

"So many want me," Red smirked, "but I do not want them."

"Do ya, mon amie?" Came another man. Gambit emerged from an alley. "Dat a real shame."

"Who is this fool?" Red asked. Nikolai squirmed in Sabretooth's grip, trying to get his comrade's attention.

"Someone who already accepted," Sabretooth said. "Now, let's negotiate. You work for Magneto, and I let your boyfriend here go."

"Do not hurt him," Red seethed.

"Let's see what he has to say," Sabretooth said. "Talk, Russky." Nikolai gasped for air as the grip on his neck was relaxed.

"Destroy him, Arkady!" He barked in Russian.

"Gladly," Red replied, still using his mother tongue. One of his cables ensnared Gambit, and began draining him.

"Wrong move!" Sabretooth wrapped an arm around Nikolai's neck again, and pressed the other on his head. With one clean jerk, he snapped the Russian man's neck in half.

"No!" Red cried. In the brief moment that he was distracted, Gambit was able to slip free. He grabbed a rock from the ground. It glowed in his hand.

"Heads up!" He yelled, tossing the rock at Omega Red. It exploded at Red's feet, sending him into the air. Red paused as he reached an apex in the air. His cables were wrapped around him, holding him in the air. A man floated in front of him.

"This is the second time you have turned my lieutenants," he snarled. "I will not tolerate that. "Magneto is never refused!" He squeezed Red's cables around him, and tossed him high into the air. Onlookers gaped. Magneto lowered himself to the ground. "Remy, are you alright?"

"Gambit taken worse," the young mutant replied.

"So what do we do now, boss?" Sabretooth asked.

"Return home," Magneto answered. "This delusional Communist, if he survived the fall, is no more concern to us."



"The more times the light changes color," Forge explained, "the more charged the gun is. There's not a bit of metal on the gun, and it blasts plasma energy, so it's nothing Magneto stand up to, beyond putting up his force field." General Stryker examined the rifle he'd been given.

"Ever thought of contracting for the Department of Defense?" He asked.

"I did my time with the military," Forge answered. "I'm done with that. If anything on this gun goes wrong, it'll send a signal to my bionic arm-" he had since replaced the one damaged by the Brood- "and I'll shut it down myself. You don't want to try and tinker with it yourself."

"Probably not," Stryker said. "Now that that is taken care of, when are we leaving?"

"Two hours," Forge said. "As soon as the trace gives us a more exact location of where Magneto's base is."

"Nobody ever explained to me what that trace is," Stryker mentioned.

"A mental lock on one of his new recruits," Forge said. "The one giving us the location was contacted by the Professor a few hours before Magneto spoke to him. He's a mole, essentially."

"What's his name?" Stryker asked. Forge told him the spy's name. Stryker nodded as if it meant something, and went back to admiring his new weapon.
 
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