2013.10.21 - When Omegas Collide

Genosha - Bastion
Bastion, once known as Fortress, is the new center of power of the Nation of Free Mutants. The western coastline of Genosha is quite inaccessible by regular shipping lanes, and Bastion, tucked up into the mountains, is a natural stronghold, well away from the disordered streets of Hammer Bay.
Conquered by Magneto, it has overnight turned into a police state. Armed guards patrol the streets, and the dense and ordered buildings create the visual effect of walking through rows of bunkers.
The Spire, as it is known on the street, towers over the skyline. A ziggurat style structure, the top plateau sports ten levels, the architecture flaring out at an improbable angle as if defying physics itself. A four-hundred meter tall metal spire spears up towards the sky from the top of the building.
Humans here are not welcome, though apparently many still live in the city performing the jobs that are necessary for sustaining a city of this size.
Bastion's soaring skyline features an odd sort of iconography. It's a bas relief image of Magneto, clad in a Crusader's tunic and holding a broadsword to the tunic on its chest. Folded wings stand in place of a cape and the image itself has no face. In image and in statue, these icons of descending stone Angels abound, from the lowest street levels to the tops of the towers overhead. And every once in a while, out of the corner of the eye, it seems one of them almost ... moves.
New high rises, beautifully rendered examples of an architect's aesthetic taste, are dominating Bastion's skyline. Replete with urban landscaping and lots of greenery, it's a melding of nature with glass and concrete. The overall view is breathtaking, as these soaring towers rise up from the densely ordered rows of block housing.
----
The infiltration of the Spire has, up until this point, gone reasonably well. That is to say, of course, that the heavy telepathic guns the X-Men have with them, today, far outmatch the middling telepathic pistols the Brotherhood supports. But, what the Brotherhood lacks in raw power -- telepathic or otherwise -- they make up for in numbers. Getting in through Bastion? Not so tough.
Getting into the Spire itself? Definitely not a walk in the park. Between the automated defenses and the heavy patrols, the team has had their collective hands full. And, of course, Magneto does have one particularly significant advantage: He helped design Cerebro. Thus, his best operatives have been given technology that inhibits the use of telepathic and psychic abilities against them. Not all of them have it, mind. But enough that there are, in fact, some Brotherhood operatives in the Spire who aren't fooled by the projections Jean and Rachel create in the minds of their opponents. Consequently, the team's insertion, thus far, hasn't been quite as silent as they would have preferred, nor has the resistance been a pushover to overcome.
But, it has been overcome. And now, standing outside the doors to Sinister's labs -- their location plucked from the minds of other Spire inhabitants -- Jean bends her considerable will to telekinetically prying open the heavy metal doors to the lab. Beads of perspiration stand out on her brow, and her eyes blaze with power. Flames lick in a faint aura around her body and metal groans in protest as it is broken and peels like the lid of a WW2 tin of spam, revealing the lab within.
As the doors to Sinister's lab are wrenched apart, the scene before the beleaguered X-Men is one of dismal lighting, humid but sterile smelling air, and flesh-covered walls. Literally. Every inch of the interior seems to be alive, as if the doors were not doors but the maw to the stomach of some great beast -- who just happened to have swallowed a laboratory. Vials and test tubes are stacked neatly on almost every shelf and a host of machinery both familiar and completely foreign to the science-types line the pink, moist walls. There's a certain feeling lingering in the area, as if someone were watching them... Or rather, as if the room itself were watching them -- alive and fully aware of their trespasses. The telepaths will even feel a mind, on one hand, animalistic and driven by instinct, and on the other, organized and well trained, with an intelligence far surpassing that of any common beast.
And there, right in the middle, is a man. A man who for some time has been passing himself off as lowly scientist, slaving away at beakers in order to better understand the nature of evolution. He has several names, but the one he's known as most commonly, here, on this island, is Dr. Milton.
And he's smiling. "Welcome, welcome. I was hoping you'd show up soon."
Nate almost arrived late for the raid. But when he did, he brought Hope with him, and his arrival was through a rather unique teleportation effect. "That is Void, thanks Void." There was no answer, and no telepathic presence Jean or Rachel could feel.
The Spire. He tried to scout it before, but he didn't go far, too many defenses, too easy to trip an alarm. Nate is anything but stealthy in the psychic plane. As a matter of fact he is drawing a good deal of the telepathic fire, since those psions that can't see past Rachel and Jean's shields, sure as hell can see him, and he is a battleship sized target. Fortunately, he is also armoured like a psionic battleship, so few enemy telepaths have done any damage, and he is used to ignoring the headache. He is also armed like a psionic battleship, so some Brotherhood telepaths are going to spend a while in Bastion's hospital.
Then Jean brings down the last set of metal doors and Nate has a chance to see Sinister's labs. It brings all kinds of bad memories to his head. More distractions he needs to push aside. He starts scanning for Monet's mental signature.
And then Sinister speaks, and... that is a distraction he can't ignore. "Yeah? Well, I was really hoping you would be here!" Replies to the evil scientist.
The fighting has been brutal. Shift has had to rely on almost every trick available to him. It's left his X-Men uniform mildly tattered and burnt in more than a few places, and he's sustained a number of mild injuries already. However, littered in the aftermath of his advance are countless spent shell casings, holes in the ground from where explosives he's planted have gone off, and the shredded remains of a Sig 552 Commando that found itself in one of Magneto's defenders' clutches.
Those on the team who've never worked with him in such an environment might have been surprised to see how brutal he can be in combat. There were few words, few wasted actions, and never once has he pulled back on delivering the proverbial kill shot.
As they stand outside of Sinister's lab, the African's chest heaves with long, steadying breaths. His face and bald head are stained with sweat, grime, and the blood of his enemies. As the doors are wrenched open, he crouches down somewhat, a very subtle bounce coming to the balls of his feet as he prepares himself for whatever comes from within. Now exhausted of his weaponry, he's got only what's left with him--his body--which steadily begins to crack and darken as the exposed skin hardens.
The smell that wafts through the open doorway, the sight of the flesh covered walls, it's enough to bring fear into his heart. It's a fear he fights off with something deep inside, a place of strange solace that he's found, which is shrouded in carefully controlled rage. It shows in his eyes, and manifests in the complete lack of a response that he gives to the man standing within that twisted laboratory. Instead, his hands slowly clench into fists, but for now, he's little more than an animal, waiting for Jean's word to trigger his pounce.
A little way back up the corridor leading to the lab, Rachel is acting as rearguard, her back turned on the doors, but she doesn't need to see them to know what's happening. She can feel the level of power that Jean's putting out, it's like a blaze in the back of her mind. Even so, she fights the urge to look back as she senses the metal give way under Jean's assault. She's already been inside that lab, at least telepathically, and as unpleasant as that was, she still wants to know just what could be at once so alive and so alien at the same time.
She still keeps her eyes on the corridor. After getting so far, she's not willing to allow them to be stabbed in the back.
Rachel herself is looking a little the worse for wear, but it's mostly cosmetic. Her jacket seems to have taken the brunt of the fighting she's been involved in so far, one arm almost hanging off where the shoulder seam has been parted, not to mention looking almost charred in places. Flickers of telekinetic flame twist insubstantially around her as she holds her powers primed, more willing to risk a headache later than being caught flat-footed now. A light telekinetic shield covers the corridor in front of her. Not strong enough to stop anything determined, but an excellent tripwire, and easy to reinforce in a moment.
She hears the voice from the lab, of 'Milton', and takes a quick look through Shift's eyes. Her expression tightens. She doesn't like his confidence one bit.
While she might not be the most experienced with a lot of powers, Hope does what she can to help. Thus why, when she first arrives with Nate via Void teleportation, the teenaged girl appears to have a BFG (Big FRAKIN' Gun!) strapped to her back, as well as a few smaller weapons out in the open on other spots. And when it comes to fighting, at least for now, she's sticking to using the smaller weapons, like what looks like a small energy pistol, some odd kind of glowing knives, and the like.
But her desire to help is also why for now, the redheaded mutant mimic does what she can with some telepathy borrowed from Jean. And while she might not be an expert, she does have some experience by now, and even a certain natural aptitude at times when it comes to certain powers (just not usually telepathy). Thus there is a little extra done to hide the group from people when and how it's possible.
And yet, when they finally reach the 'lab'... When that door finally opens, and the scientist speaks up, the BFG comes off of the shoulder and starts to hum as it's aimed.
Yeah, despite her age, Hope doesn't look afraid. Or hesitant to fight. But at the same time she isn't willing to up and fire what ever that giant gun is this very second.
Deep, dark and in the upper areas of the lab sits a gargoyle of sorts; one coated in sickly, iridescent green fuzz. A glowing pair of yellow malevolent eyes stare down at the floor, his back is hunched and he's perched upon his spot. A sickly, dark green surcoat, reminiscent of the 17th century (minus the frills) hangs about him, aiding in his hiding in the shadows. Of course, he doesn't need much help in that end; the shadow is his friend.
The rumbles above give warning that someone is coming, and his mouth opens to show fangs; slavering and so very ready for that which lies ahead. His tail whips from side to side in anticipation.
Not. Yet.
It's been an eventful time for two mutants in particular. What, with having been kidnapped, genetically modified, then released back into the wild. Right now 'the wild' happens to be the Spire. In particular, the ceilings and any high up perches where the two fuzzy mutants, now rebranded Famine and Pestilence, happen to perch in all of their gargoyle-esque glory.
One in particular is the artist formerly known as Nocturne, black synthetics and polished alloys reflecting the ambient light while any exposed hair or fur seems impervious to such effects, so matte as to seem to snuff out the light altogether. Even then the pair are, as always, exceptionally good at hiding within the shadows. Lurking. Watching. Waiting. The way that Famine is poised overhead would suggest that she's waiting for just such a moment. Their first victims have entered the scene.
From the ceiling comes a low noise- strange, oddly lyrical and yet inhuman. The sound of booted feet stepping in unison echoes around the lab as someone- or something- approaches. There's a sudden, terrible stillness in the air- the thousand or so 'voices' of the inhabitants of The Spire suddenly going mute in the minds of the team's telepaths. Something begins tingling in the back of the brain- a niggling sensation of nerves crawling, a sussurance like pins and needles of the mind that casts a shadow over thought and sensation.
With an angry squeal, the unliving steel roof of the laboratory simply... melts away, as a candle eats a hole in a sheet of paper, opening in a ragged gap and flooding the room with harsh artificial light. Half a hundred cloaked and hooded figures, inhuman in their identical guises and arrayed in a circle around Sinister's lab, look down at the X-men. The door Jean had smashed down bends, squeals, and flows up and into the ceiling, turning into a seamless slab of metal and creating a twenty-foot deep pit for the X-men, surrounding them with steel and living laboratory.
The faces of the small army are hidden away by hood and shadow. Each bears a rifle in their hands, standing nearly immobile- save for the twitch of muscle and the rise of shoulder. They live, but there is nothing vital or 'alive' about these... things.
A vast emptiness surrounds them. There is no sense of life, no semblance of humanity in these figures. And that numbing void lashes out at the X-men, flowing over and around them, sapping at will and strength and focus as a song, empty of words or lyric, floats across the psychic void.
"I had quite the monologue prepared," Magneto says calmly. The Imperator stands at their head, arms folded across his chest. Steel adorns his brow- his features cast into deep pools of shadow, from which only his glittering, ice-hard eyes can be seen. His cloak drapes about him like the wings of a bat, his full battle regalia and armor in place. "But, prudence dictates that I ask you all surrender first. /Now/," he snarls, glaring at the lot of them with regal fury resonating in his voice. He turns his eyes onto Shift, his gaze narrowing with the promise of undelivered pain. "Or I will /crush you into the dust/." To emphasize his words, the Imperator makes a minute gesture with his hand- and anything on the X-men with an iota of magnetic attraction crumples and smashes to the ground, savaged by his will, raw force hammering at everything from guns and knives to belt buckles and buttons. The very air around him warps and lenses as Magneto folds space around him into an impenetrable wall.
Jean's eyes sweep the organic lab, not entirely surprised by it, given Rachel and Jocelyn's images of the place. Still... a mind that chooses to work in this sort of environment is not a mind Jean wants to become intimately acquainted with. Nor is a place in which she wishes to leave friends, allies, or, most importantly, students under her protection.
The scientist's words cause her lips to press together. She brushes past the others, taking point -- setting herself up as a target -- and raises glowing eyes to regard him. "Where is she?" she asks simply. "Where's the girl you took?"
It's only once she speaks, and the other minds in the room begin to register with her, that she senses familiarity cloaked in malevolent darkness. Her eyes drift slowly upward, to where the 'gargoyles' lurk. And she knows those gargoyles. Their appearances have changed, somewhat, but she still knows them...
Her attention snaps back to Sinister, as her shields flare to life and the fire around her grows. "You sonuva-- What did you do to them?!"
She's ignoring Shift's brutality, for the moment. It goes against their mentor's dream to be that brutal. They'll speak about it later. For now, however? She resisting the urge to go for blood, herself. So, she understands. She doesn't like it, but she understands.
She knows Nate is a battering ram, and is happy to use him as such. She knows Rachel will have their back and Hope brings extra firepower. That, too, she is happy to use. But, when the roof peels and the walls bleed away and the pit appears, along with those blanked minds and Master of Magnetism asserts his rightful claim in his domain, she rises up off the ground and the raptor aura fills up the space around her in earnest. Her telekinesis keeps her allies protected and together, though she knows she's in for a fight where her mentor's old friend is concerned. She will need their strength. He's been at this longer than she.
But he's not the only one with tricks up his sleeve.
"You are holding friends, allies, and students of mine prisoner here, Magneto," she says evenly, though the cosmic harmonics are teasing at the edges of her words. "We will not surrender. But, if you release them to our care, we might withdraw without any more bloodshed."
"My, my. They /are/ well trained, aren't they?" Milton asks as the majority of the group fails to send so much as an angry shout his way. He seems to be waiting for something before he responds to Jean, smiling happily, and silently, to all of them until, with that grating screech, Magneto makes his appearance at the head of a small army. As Magneto demands their surrender, Milton nods pleasantly along, completely out of place in the tense atmosphere, his hand idly resting on a blackwood cane with a bright, red gem at the top. "Now then, I think I can finally dispense with this charade..." he chimes in at the end. Milton's form begins to shift, to elongate and pale, his clothes growing tighter and darker. A segmented cape flows from his back like a black and red liquid while a dark red diamond blooms in the center of his chest, a smaller one appearing on his ghostly white forehead. Milton's eyes close during the transformation, and when they're next opened, they're the color of blood. They're the eyes of Mister Sinister.
As Jean rises up to meet Magneto, and the two powerhouses face off, Sinister smiles and slowly claps his hands, loosing a soft chuckle while he watches the pair. "My, my, Jean. You're everything I could have hoped for. The power, the talent! It sends shivers up my spine. You, my dear, are exactly what this world needs." He spreads his arms, opening them up to the rest of the room, "All of you are." As for TJ and Kurt, he smiles and gestures them both to his side, "I've simply unlocked their true potential, Jean, I'm surprised you can't see that. Monet as well... They've all been... Improved. They're no longer the people you knew before -- They're now the driving force of a new world order... They're my Harbingers. Pestilence and Famine." He ticks his head first to Kurt, then TJ, then strides forward a bit, the wall behind him flowing and undulating as it begins to peel itself away from the artificial wall it clings to. Sinister, however, doesn't seem to notice, as he continues to speak, "I've also brought back an old friend... You knew him as John Proudstar, I think? He is now War." He points out Rachel now, ticking his head to side, "And the one you met? The Darkness? Conquest... As for Monet?" He pauses, his smile growing slightly broader, "Death... Even now they move upon the world. Even now, Armageddon begins."
Nate shields himself when Magneto sweeps the room with his powers, a golden aura protecting him. The Halo-phone in his belt sadly dies though, all circuits fried. Magneto's arrival with an army of telepathic-proof goons fills him with anger, because although he already knew the old man was far from the saint he knew, working with Sinister is another level entirely.
But Jean is asking him to, what? Let the prisoners go and that's it? No. That is not what Nate came here to do.
His eyes, now pulsing with light, shift to Sinister. First he takes his true aspect, then he announces he has already altered his prisoners. And Darkness? What is Jackie doing here? That is someone he had not heard about for a long time.
"Sinister." He growls, "you are not going to see that Armageddon. DIE!" He strikes, a massive telepathic assault directed to the ancient mutate, so strong even non-telepaths can see the air between Sinister and him flaring with light.
With a steady eye, Shift watches as Magneto makes his entrance. Without any telepathic ability of his own, he remains blissfully unaware of what darkness may be sapping away at the others, though his eyes do lift to study those who have appeared above.
When his mis-matched eyes of brown and silver are caught by Magneto, however, they narrow ever so slightly in a similar retort. Still, he says nothing, even as a small crucifix is torn from within one of the pouches on his belt by an invisible hand to be summarily crushed into a ball of metal upon the floor.
Kwabena Odame bides his time. He wastes no energy on words or movement, aside from the subtlest gesture of backing himself two languid steps toward Nate and Hope. With his body now transformed to its hardest state, his fists relax, and he waits... gathering his strength with that little time they may have left.
Jean's words are certainly not lost on him, nor are the transformations of Milton and the lab beyond. His eyes flick from Pestilence to Famine as they are introduced, and the former draws a discomforted sensation from deep within his belly. A sort of innate recognition that steadily begins to erode at his fought-for sense of solace.
His eyes slide back toward Pestilence. He thinks of the crushed crucifix upon the threshing floor. And then? His lips peel back to reveal teeth ground together, a fresh anger threatening to well up and drown his control.
Then? Nate strikes first.
It's like the pin was just pulled on a very large grenade. Kwabena fully expects the army to drop from above. He expects hell to break loose in the blink of an eye. What does he do? He goes charging for the imposing form of Mister Sinister, though even as he runs for the villain, he can feel something strange in the air around him. Something that seems to blur his vision, slowing him down.
Rachel's head twitches, a quick, involuntary motion as she feels herself telepathically cut off from the wider world. Instinctively, she reaches for the minds of the others, and is immediately reassured that she's not gone suddenly head-blind. A moment later, something far more unpleasant steals into the back of her mind. There's something wrong. She can feel it. And it's inside her HEAD...
Rachel shakes her head firmly, pushing the feeling away, and takes one last look up the still-empty corridor. "Damn it." It's a mild curse, spoken softly, but there's venom in it. Rachel begins backing away, moving swiftly to join the others.
And just in time. For no sooner than Magneto's made his dramatic entrance, than the doorway she just stepped through is blocked off once more. With no line of retreat to guard, Rachel lets her eyes rise to find the Master of Magnetism.
He's not the old man in the wheelchair she remembers. He's power, and majesty, and he has them outnumbered. But when the ultimatum to surrender comes? Rachel snorts, and under her breath adds, "Good luck with that." Now that she's seen the lab, with her eyes as well as her mind, there's no way she's willingly leaving without what they came for. Or allowing herself to be taken, for that matter. Besides, he just ruined the rows of metal spikes that run down the arms of her jacket.
As Jean rises to confront Magneto, Rachel's gaze moves to Milton, as his form shifts into something more... Sinister. Nate called it. She didn't really doubt before, but now she believes every word her 'younger brother' said about this creature. The mention of the Darkness causes her eyes to narrow. Temporal refugee that she is, she'd hoped her presence might be a surprise. No such luck. She draws in a breath...
But the words go unsaid. She FEELS Nate let go, in the instant before he strikes, and Rachel reacts. Not to strike at Sinister, nor even Magneto, not directly. Her power flares up around her, fire in her eyes and outlining her body as one hand lashes out, a claw of telekinetic force aiming to grasp one of the hooded figures and slam it into as many of its fellows as she can manage.
In theory there probably are non-magnetic weapons where ever Hope got hers from. She may have even taken some of them. But odds are not all of the weapons on her right now are non-magnetic. Especially not something like the BFG. Thus a of of the smaller stuff, like those glowing knives, and /maybe/ the energy pistol are magnetically yanked away and crushed in a way that they are more than likely not only destroyed, but altered beyond recognition. Strangely enough, the BFG is yanked away, and bent, but it isn't totally crumpled up and destroyed. Oh it's bent out of shape in a way that it's out of commission for now, but odds are it, and some of the other stuff she can could be repaired. Just not here and now, in the middle of what is a 'super powered fire fight'.
Thus the teenaged redhead, in one swoop, has a lot less to fall back on than she had before, all thanks to Magnetos grand entrance and gesture.
'But guns are not all Hope has to fall back on. Especially not when Jean and the others notice the 'gargoyles' and react to them, not to mention the 'change' that 'Milton' undergoes, as well as the information that Sinister up and drops regarding the others he's 'modified'. Thus, those who can detect magnetism might find that something odd is happening. For as Hope up and starts to float a little off of the ground, it's almost as if a force that may very well be as strong as him is suddenly in here, possibly reaching out and trying to deflect the forces that the Imperator commands. But while the source of this sudden force may be near, or even at the same power level as the Master of Magnetism, it is unlikely that Hope can come anywhere near him in raw skill and experience if it comes down to that. Either way though, the fact that odds are Magneto can detect that sudden change in the magnetic field around here, and the raw power behind it, may very well make it a silent threat in response to his overt threat.
Then again, as Nate cuts loose, and all hell breaks loose...
Well, there's a sudden surge as Hope just lashes out with her borrowed power. It's as if there's a sudden, unrestrained powerful surge of magnetism of the opposite polarity is sent flying right in the direction of Magneto!?!
"Can we ask for /YOUR/ surrender instead?!?"
And on the upside, the sudden change in powers /might/ help Hope a little due to how the things set up to stop telepaths might not be effecting her. Or at least aren't effecting her the same way.
The half-mutant, half-demon that used to be Kurt Wagner has memories, but they are unreachable. Recognition flares in those glowing, soulless orbs, but acknowledgment that those below are anything but hapless victims simply isn't there. As far as he is concerned, Pestilence has a job to do, and these few are to be dealt with.
The ceiling in which he perches, however, begins that shaking, threatening to loose even his easy grip upon the writhing, organic wall. Lifting those same eyes up, those fangs come into play once more, and his tail whips about in annoyance.
Target recognition.
Friendly. (As far as that goes.)
More important things, and so he uses the distraction of the ceiling being torn asunder to simply drop. His posture is such that he almost looks as if he'll sprout wings; freefall comes easy to this former elf. His version of pulling up, however, will look for the moment as harmless.
After all, who of his friends hasn't experienced his particular mode of transport? The innocuous -bamf-?
It's a sudden thing. Not many have born witness to what he's called on several occasions as his 'combat bamf', but it is something that has served him well, from battling numerous opponents to fighting Wolverine to a standstill.
BAMF-BAMF-BAMF-BAMF!!!
All in rapid succession, and the elf finishes on a side wall, clinging, his tail back to whipping around. There is a noxious cloud that lingers and begins to fall, placed such that it will envelop those now finding themselves in the room. And, thanks to that visceral familiarity? Telekinesis bubbles are second nature to the elf as well. How many times has he needed to navigate them? To breach them?
Countless.
Breathe Deep. Pestilence has arrived, and there is a very real danger of infection. Bubonic Plague. Tuberculosis. Cholera. Influenza. Take your pick, choose your poison. Tell your friends... because they're in danger too.
Landing finally near Sinister, the elf seems to glow with an iridescent green, and is bedecked in 17th century pirate. The glowing yellow eyes gleam in vicious delight, his tail not ceasing for a minute as it whips back and forth.
As soon as the burst comes, Pestilence is in the air, leaping straight up, and hanging upon the side of a wall, golden orbs narrowing, ready to go again. The gleam of the blob of metal that had been a crucifix gains the Harbinger's attention, but it is fleeting. No true recognition flares in those blank, featureless eyes. Instead, another one of his mantras comes forth. Always keep moving!
The roof is no more. One moment it is there, and then it is not. The only two that happen to be anywhere near the ceiling are Famine and Pestilence. Famine's deep red eyes narrow into insignificant slits, a metal-spined tail slowly twisting to and fro behind her as she watches. It's a good thing that she's not part of the X-Team, her threatening armor is no worse for wear.
A moment later and she's looking back down upon the others assembled within the lab, the 'visiting force.' Looking back at Jean. The first hint of fangs start to show as she stares back, leaning so far forward upon her perch that it's a small miracle gravity doesn't cast her into the awaiting abyss.
Target. But..no. Strong telepath. More animal than person, Famine starts sniffing delicately at the air while eyeing up one figure to another. No..no..maybe..no. Too many psychics. Powerful psychics. They're much more difficult to possess.
Sinister may have called them forth but she has her own instincts to follow. As Pestilence makes his move and covers the ground force Famine's head snaps upright once more, fangs fully bared in a silent hiss before powerful limbs fling her away from her point of safety.
Sending her right toward the back of Magneto's shoulders.
The best way to take on an Omega level fight is to borrow an Omega level mutant.
Fury. Unstoppered, untamed, unquenchable fury. Magneto's only vaguely aware of Famine clinging to his shoulders. Her claws don't even dent his finery, but the psychic fangs she sinks into his brain are sharp indeed.
"uuuuuuuuuRRRAAAAAAAAAGH!" His eyes go from blue to a deep scarlet and violet, flaring with unrestrained energy. Rage. Unspeakable, unquenchable rage, rage beyond reason, beyond ration, beyond what man is meant to feel- inspired by the fangs in his brain. Electrical energy crackles around him, lashing out at the walls, singing Famine as she clutches his shoulders, sinking into weathered flesh.
"TRAITOR."
Magneto points a finger at Shift, his eyes alight. The very air shimmers between the two men as a wave of invisible energy ripples into the Ghanian mutant. Enough inductive force to melt steel hammers into the phase-shifting mutant, in an instant taking him from an immutable solid to a burning font of plasma in the vague shape of a man, searing the air around him to superheated levels in moments.
"WEAK."
Magneto takes Hope's magnetic assault away as if a man ripping a toy from a child and with a disdainful gesture, seizes her entire body- now magnetically charged- with every iota of force he can spare- and hurls the woman mimicking his powers at Jean like a living spear, accelerating Hope to bone-breaking speeds. He turns his eyes down into the pit, teeth set in a rictus grin, and extends both hands.
"DIE." 
Magneto lashes out at everything below him. All at once. The Spire itself screams and shakes in a violent quake, reacting to his unfettered rage. His eyes blaze red with light, and the nimbus of clear power around him turns a spectacular shade of violet. He howls his fury and throws a hand into the air, light coalescing around him and congealing into an inky blackness as reality itself bends and warps around his fist.
Steel explodes from /everywhere/, lancing through the laboratory with bone-chewing ferocity and then, settling into a roaring, whipping frenzy, as if a hurricane had exploded. Tumbling, whirling, a thousand pounds of razor-edged scrap metal hums and screeches through the air in tight circles, the X-men caught in the center of the whirling metal storm.
All around the circle, the hooded Vanguard continue their arrhythmic hum, the psychic song growing fast and frantic in their gestalt minds. Rifles come to shoulders and they hurl bolts of energy down into the pit, firing relentlessly and without hesitation. The one Rachel seizes by the neck dies in a moment, his neck broken, sending his 'brothers' stumbling for their balance. The psychic suppression field intensifies with each beat of the heart, numbing, slowing, discarding thought and ration and emotion for that muted and hypnotic song on lips and in the broken remnants of their minds.
Jean only really has limited knowledge of just who Sinister is. But, that knowledge is enough to tell her she really doesn't like him. His words -- let alone his transformation -- only reinforce that opinion. Her blazing eyes settle on the red-eyed mutate and she pushes away the unsettling thought that he could have anything to do with who and what she is. Because... really?
No. Just... No!
As he catalogues what he's done and to whom, and lays out the Biblical references (her mind flashes briefly to her brother, in seminary), her lips draw back, unconsciously baring teeth.
She starts to send to Rachel and Hope-- but it's lost in the sickly BAMF clouds that surround all of them. At a molecular level, heightened as her senses are, at the moment, Jean can sense the 'wrongness' of Kurt's... Pestilence's clouds. And she understand what it means. Telekinetic winds buffet within her TK shield as she works to disperse the noxious effects before they can truly affect her team, but there is no way to really know if she was fast enough.
As her team attacks, she turns her attention on locating the mutant producing the dampening field, intending to slam him or her into a wall until they stop. But, she is interrupted by the explosion that is Magneto's fury. The psychic dampening field is hardly even a second thought to her, now. Instead, she has no choice to but open herself up to cosmic energies she has been fighting to keep at bay for a very, very long time.
The flame aura around her explodes into white hot cosmic fire. A raptor's enraged cry beats against every mind on Genosha -- and probably several beyond.
(So much for Charles' beauty sleep.)
Jean's black and gold uniform ripples and gold and red, green replacing it with some effort, shimmers around her as the Phoenix is reborn in fire and blood and rage.
It's everything Sinister could want: Survival of the fittest.
She flings up powerful telekinetic shields that protect the core of her people from the worst of Magneto's explosion, but the cosmic energy she unleashes to do so has an equally explosive effect, such that anything that's not nailed down and outside the circle of her power is either flung through the air or vaporized in a heartbeat.
It's a titanic release of power not felt since the Spire first rose out of the Genoshan earth...
As the pure telepathic might comes hurtling his way, Sinister's grin doesn't so much as slip sideways. Just before impacting on his mind, a new force awakens from deep within the walls of the living lab. The animal mind of the room sweeps outwards, intercepting the strike that was meant for Sinister as it shatters uselessly on the impregnable walls of it's ever-shifting and alien mind.
Then it asks for a password.
Meanwhile, as Shift charges Sinister, he lazily watches as Magneto's blast turns the man to plasma. As if this were the last straw, his smile fades to be replaced with disappointment, as if he couldn't understand why they were upset that he was bringing about the End of Days. "You all fail to see the bigger picture. Evolution -- in the harshest, most unforgiving of Earth's environments, life evolves at an accelerated pace. Creatures find a way to overcome the most dire of obstacles. As it stands now, the world has become far too comfortable. Evolution is slowing. Man hasn't changed for thousands of years. I seek to end that, to speed the process by which mutants, by which /all of you/ rise to power. When the world has ended, when humanity is forced to survive or die, they will finally reach their true potential. Shed the weak, shed the infirm, the elderly, those who no longer deserve to live. The strong will make this world their own. /You/ will make this world your own."
While he speaks, while chaos begins to erupt around him, the wall behind him pulls away entirely to reveal... The Marauders: Arclight, Lady Mastermind, Vertigo, Blockbuster, Harpoon, Riptide, Vanisher, and Scalphunter. As one, they surge upon the X-Men, Scalphunter calling out orders as he, Harpoon, and Riptide send a storm of firepower towards Jean. Arclight stands a bit aside from the group and slams a fist into the floor, sending shockwaves of purple energy at the X-ers while Vertigo bathes them with her signature power. Lady Mastermind, remains to the back of the group, her illusions already working on the minds of those present as a horde of animals surge from the wall behind the X-men, claws and teeth tearing as if they were real. Finally, Blockbuster charges forwards, his fists swinging, powerful hands grabbing, and legs stomping as he tries to physically obliterate all within reach.
As Magneto's rage begins to affect the battleground itself, and the steel bars begin puncturing it all around him, Sinister quickly moves across the floor towards the back of lab, his mind throwing up barriers as swiftly as he can. He nearly makes to the far end when a spike rises from the floor and pierces him in the stomach, the telekinetic shield fading before it can even begin as the genetic mastermind is suspended in mid-air, impaled by Magneto's fury. Slowly, his form melts, and shifts, pulling this way and that until finally, he wrenches himself free by flowing around the spike and re-forming on the other side, looking only vaguely annoyed, but still in a hurry. Just then, the cosmic energy surges outwards, and his Marauders, the ones that haven't managed to infiltrate into the center of the X-men, are vaporized and tossed about, but before the wave can reach him, he's gone, replaced simply by blue light and black smoke as he departs Genosha for safer climbs.
Unfortunately, right behind him come in more, and more of his cloned Marauders, riding the very frequency he used to depart, until no less than four more sets of his minions fill what's left of his dying room.
Nate snarls in frustration when the lab-mind somehow protects Sinister from his attack. He hits it instead, shredding through their defences as if they were made of paper. |"HERE IS YOUR PASSWORD"| . Now, Sinister... but he is interrupted, first by Magneto metal storm, which forces him to raise telekinetic bubbles to protect himself and others. Then by the Vanguard psychic 'song' that goes from annoying to debilitating. He sends a broad TK blast in their direction.
Then Jean goes cosmic, and even Nate has to forget his vendettas to shield himself from the psychokinetic fires. "Hope!" He also tries to protect the young woman, he brought her here!
TRAITOR!
The word echoes in Kwabena's mind, threatening to undo all of the work Jean had done in piecing his altered memories back together. For a fleeting moment, he wonders whether it was all wrong--whether he had always been at Magneto's side--whether it was Jean who had turned him away from his master.
Suddenly, his body sublimates under the fury of Magneto's onslaught. Hardened flesh, bone, blood, his very molecular structure becomes gas, superheated beyond its normal state. In a flash, the mutant's form is engulfed in raging tendrils of brilliant white, scoring and melting the floor around him.
He struggles against it. He stands his ground and submits to the pain, the anguish, the feeling of his essence being torn asunder. Metal spikes and the shrapnel of Magneto's fury pass right through him, emerging a glowing, deadly red as they continue their passage throughout the room. And yet it brings a final clarity to his confusion, a nail in the coffin of his time spent as a spy on the man who seeks now to kill him.
With a ferocious howl, Shift stands upright. The magnetic fields barrage him from every direction, causing the excited plasma to roil about his shape frantically. And yet, his very will seems bent upon staying in one piece. It should have blown him apart, obliterating him at the subatomic level. But Magneto had taught him something in this very spire, and it's that knowledge that he know brings to bear.
Suddenly, Shift leaps forth, his body following the magnetic blender as it carries him in a blinding circle about the room. His body smashes into a wall, leaving a trail of charred dust where there had been living flesh. The noxious fumes are incinerated as he passes through, their diseases burnt before they can take hold of him.
Then, he comes into contact with the cosmic rays of the Phoenix.
Suddenly alight with blinding fury, Shift launches from the wall upon which he was splayed, and mows through a number of Magneto's hooded henchmen. They are incinerated upon impact, as if they'd just come into contact with a tiny star. Within the cloud of white plasma, a face appears, and it snarls with vicious intent as he seeks to plow through as many of the hooded assailants that he can find.
Rachel feels the hooded man's neck snap in her telekinetic grip and a wince flickers across her features. She hadn't intended to kill him outright, but sadly she's killed enough in her young life that the doesn't touch her as deeply as it perhaps should. Certainly not enough to distract her from her self-appointed task - the hooded figures are the source of the psionic interference, and far too many of the X-Men presently assembled below them are telepaths to allow that to continue.
Unfortunately Rachel's only reduced that interference by a fiftieth. She grits her teeth, the telekinetic flame around her body burning brighter, and dispenses with finesse. Disruption or not, she's at least proved she can reach out and touch them. She lashes out, telekinetic blast after telekinetic blast aimed at the figures above, each strong enough to put a man - or whatever they are - down. As the return fire from the energy rifles begins to come in, Rachel yelps as a bolt sears her shoulder, leaving a smoldering gash in her jacket and uniform, and a deep burn on the flesh below. She staggers exactly one step, and then the blasts are spattering from her telekinetic shields as she gets back to her methodical work.
And then everything goes to hell, as Magneto cuts loose. Shift is burning, Hope's being flung across the room - and the room itself is alive with a storm of metal. Fury and - honestly? - the icy touch of fear flood through Rachel at the sight of her team-mates taking the brunt of the attack, and she flings out a hand, trying to telekinetically intercept Hope, if she can't help Shift.
And then she feels it, deep within her mind. The quiet presence that's always there, even if it's not always watching. She feels it pull /away/ from her. Rachel's head snaps around, and she sees Jean become something terrifying. She sees the flickering colours, as Jean seems at war with herself - and then the feedback, along the link she shares to the Phoenix, sends Rachel to her knees. Her vision swims, just for a moment...
But she WILL NOT pass out. Rachel's back on her feet, unsteady, but back up - and then the Marauders are flooding the chamber. Rachel smiles, a little woozily, feeling the coppery taste of blood as she absently wipes the nosebleed away, unaware that somewhere in all that she lost her grip on the psionic illusion that usually cloaks her features. Hound marks stark black against her skin, she lifts off the ground and flies to meet the Marauders, a bow-wave of telekinetic force pushing out ahead of her, aiming to slam them right back against the walls.
How much the clouds created by Pestilence can affect Hope is unclear. In part, that is due to the quick actions of Jean to move it away. But in part it's due to how when Magneto looses his temper and cuts loose....
Well, not to sell it short, but just how does one describe what exactly he did. To say that he magnetically threw Hope at Jean, as Jean started to cut loose herself would come off as majorly under selling both what Magneto is doing and what Jean is undergoing.
Still, it's as if every part of Hope, right down to the subatomic level is grabbed, and hurled at Jean, all while The Phoenix itself appears to return...
It's not a good moment to be that redheaded teenager. At all. To describe how she feels even as she's grabbed may not be possible. To put into words any though she has as she's hurled towards the firebird, especially as on some level she detects what she's headed for...
There's a reaction. And instinctual reaction. For as Magnetos metal storm continues... As Nate tries to stop, or redirect Hope...
The mutant mimic herself reaches out. She does multiple things at once. Using the powers of /MULTIPLE/ mutants at the exact same moment.
She reaches out and tries to stop her potential collision... Not just with raw, strong Magnetism, but /ALSO/ with telekinesis... Telekenisis that causes her eyes to glow, and possibly a slight flame like aura, much like her 'Aunt' and 'Uncle' might create...
Her body becomes semi-transparent, as if on some level, somehow, she's no longer completely solid...
Then.... Then there's a *BAMF!* as she suddenly disappears and re-appears a short distance from the oncoming Marauders, her form still not looking solid.
What comes next is a shout. A telepathic one, as she waves a hand right at the oncoming Marauders and she lashes out with the combined telekinetic power of two X-Men and Magneto. A blast that holds nothing back. A blast that very well could destroy more than Hope ever would want to think about.
<< GO AWAY! >>
Yes, as that happens though, the teenager is shaking. It's almost as if the fact that she's doing this is /NOT/ something she is even thinking about. Not consciously. Instead she's just doing it. For she knows she has to do stuff. She knows she has to do /EVERYTHING/ she can. No matter what the cost.
<< /NOW/ >>
Magneto's fierce attack is a surprise to Pestilence, and as the spire begins to shake, its very foundation screaming in insult. On the move, he is, and he's bouncing from spot to spot, only to find his hold tenuous, and is forced to move yet again.
BAMF!
He dodges one wall of metal, only to find himself in the way of the next, and with another teleport, he's out of the way, but just barely- the metal onslaught, even if not meant for him, causing him more than a little concern. It's the spikes that catch the elf, tearing through his surcoat, causing blood to well through that sickly greenish tinged fur. He's tougher, however; that which would have laid the elf low, while isn't ignored, it is more of a setback than something that will take him out of the fight.
Still, with every teleport, he's letting off disease. Contagion. Eventual death.
It's Jean's rise to Phoenix, however, that gains his attention. Those yellow eyes widen in sentient recognition, and knowledge there isn't a damned thing he can do about it. Flattening himself against a wall that had given 'birth' to him, Pestilence looks as if he briefly considers his options.
Sinister is impaled- nope, check that. He's okay. And--
Once again, the elf is on the move, the form and figure of Shift is witnessed. That's the word. Witnessed... and his head rolls back as he considers, his eyes narrowing.
Searching the room, his eyes search the chaos for Famine. His Famine. Calling out now, Pestilence's words come in harsh sounding syllables. German. Visceral. "Sie wird sterben. Wenn wir jetzt fahren, können wir sie, wie sie schlaff weg fangen." They will die. If we depart now, we can catch them as they limp away.
Plans inside plans.
There's a lot going on right now. Normally Famine/Nocturne could just 'fall in' past someone's skin and, quite literally, take them over from the inside out. They check out, she checks in. Magneto puts up a fight! But..his attention is way too divided. She doesn't care about his armor or his helmet or even getting claws or teeth into the guy.
She wants the whole flippin' mutant.
As Magneto turns the inside of the Spire into a giant blender, Famine checks in. From the outside he's the same old Magneto, as livid as ever, but now there's someone else behind the controls. Someone who lifts a hand high up over his head, fingers splayed wide, connecting with the resonance of the Spire as a whole.
The sound that follows could be compared to striking every individual cable of the Golden Gate Bridge in unison. A deep, deafening, -angry- sound of tortured metal. The Spire itself, seized within his grasp. Within -Famine's- grasp.
In that same moment that Jean Grey turns Phoenix and explodes outward with cosmic fire, Famine detonates the Spire. Walls, floors, support beams, any piece of it that she can 'grasp,' every inch of the tower itself cracks apart like the shell of a walnut beneath a sledgehammer until ragged chunks remain, yet levitating in place in the general shape of the former construction.
Then, one after another, these slabs of metal begin to fall inward toward the battleground proper, launched like missiles out of a trebuchet. The Phoenix fire melts away the ragged edges then liquefies the core of each projectile before they can strike, turning solid shot into animated cables of searing hot matter which incinerate everything they touch. Hovering in the center of all of this? One borrowed Master of Magnetism, and one Phoenix.
It's almost like living inside of a giant, sentient, and very ticked off Lava Lamp.
From another part of Bastion two mutants watch the battleground from afar. One set of solid yellow eyes turn away from a rifle scope to glance toward her archer companion. "I think now might be a good time to leave."
"Da," says the archer simply. Nope. She doesn't need to be told twice. NYC is getting a pair of new residents post haste.
Magneto groans as the Spire collapses around him, eyes fluttering with realization. Electricity arcs and sears the air around the man and with a flash of light, Famine is cast off, Magneto's formidable will reasserting itself. He sags and falters as Famine rips herself from his body, the rage that had suffused him ever so briefly leaving him. It all goes sideways for a moment- his shields wane minutely, the steel hits the ground, and he dips perilously, wavering, even as the Phoenix makes herself manifest. And the Spire... the Spire speaks to him- still potent, still aligned in the necessary ways, still more than a building, an extension of Magneto's will and strength, as Cerebro is to Charles.
He looks up at the majestic, immortal Phoenix hovering in front of him, coruscating with the power of the universe- of life- itself. Infinite possibility, infinite power, beyond man, beyond science, just /beyond/, hovers near him- and a hand, raised almost daintily, brandishes sun-bright energy as beautiful and deadly as a star, focusing into a shocking radiance.
A new light fills his eyes- cold blue, sky blue, robin's egg blue- and a new determination fills the man, swelling his chest and shoulders. Blurring with motion, Magneto roars again and flings himself bodily at Jean Grey.
Light flashes and blooms. Explosions of energy not seen since the dawn of the universe fill the room, a mere byproduct of the true forces at work. It's overwhelming, blinding, raw beams of radiance searing flesh from bone, melting steel, ripping apart reality. The raw energy is overwhelmingly intense, so much so that Vanguard and Marauder alike fall back from it, even as it sears them in place.
And when the lights dim, however minutely, there are two forms suspended in the air over the battling X-men, Marauders, and the faltering remnants of Magneto's Vanguard.
Magneto and Jean Grey. Floating in the air, barely arm's reach from one another, and the cataclysmic force between them bending reality to the breaking point. The burning white-hot sun of the Phoenix Force, and the scarlet-and-violet crackling of Magneto's raw will, made manifest, clash in scintillating explosions of sound and force and energy. Teeth set, Magneto screams his defiance at Jean, hovering with arms spread wide, hands clenched into a rictus grasp of the very fibres of the universe. Sisyphean, he stands on an invisible shelf, back bowed away, bent but unbroken, holding back the awesome luminosity of her powers. Flickers of light ply against his person, searing away patches of his armor in fits and starts. And even as Jean's radiance grows, a sunburst gathered at her pointed finger, Magneto roars all the louder, fully realized, fully aware, fully in control of himself. More than rage suffuses him- it's passion, determination- nemesis, and yes, rage still, but focused cold as the point of a knife. He collapses his hands closer and closer together, binding Jean's energy to his will, the light bending back towards her, shuttered and reflected. The flickering corona around her person coalesces, burning all the more brilliant as Magneto brings the Phoenix force into a smaller, and smaller space.
The battle rages. Vanguard fall and die, torn asunder by the X-men. Marauders leap and stab, twirling, using their own gifts and being struck down in turn. Magneto ignores it all. His focus, his mind, the entire essence of his being is centered squarely on the white-hot woman in front of him, searing herself as a manifestation of the primal powers of the universe in his brain.
His hands collapse, slowly but surely, bringing that power- barely restrained, barely controlled, barely resisted- down to a single, radiant point, that glows so brightly even the Master of Magnetism averts his eyes, teeth set, slavering from the exertion, his hands crackling as the heat sears the flesh.
And with a roar and a vast surge of his shoulders that somehow translates to the entire /Spire/ moving- a living being of steel, somehow tied to Magneto himself- he collapses that energy into a single minuscule point.
For a moment, all is silence. And then the world- reality- comes undone, starting at that point between Jean and Magneto, their hands nearly touching.
From the outside of the Spire, there's only a flickering of warning- a squeal of metal, a sudden flash-heat that turns the obsidian black to red, then blazing white- and then a cataclysmic explosion that rivals the blast that had obliterated five hundred refugees in the mountains, that had obliterated a city's electrical systems. A blast of cosmic power, raw and unchecked, and that sends the upper third of The Spire hurtling into the sky in a billion fragments of steel.
In Jean's mind, the sound is deafening. The rage she feels is equal to that of Magneto's. After all, she's here defending her people -- her friends, family, and children. Even if the one person she actually came to rescue is out of her reach, right now, her focus has not waned.
More than that, however, is the primal force of the Phoenix's joy at being reborn... and its rage at the one that seeks to contain its life-energy, the cosmic fires of creation. Jean, herself, is not powerful enough to match the Master of Magnetism. She has too many doubts, to much human frailty. But the Phoenix?
The Phoenix is something else again.
Magneto's hands slowly close together, every sinew in his body taut and straining, near to breaking and bursting. The cosmic scream of the Phoenix can be heard around the world and, perhaps, across the Universe.
(Don't tell the Shi'ar!)
Jean's body seems to be pure, white fire -- greater by far than the firecracker plasma of Shift's starform. After all, she is of the stuff that drempt stars into being.
The magnetism pulls away her flame. Her body bends and strains, curling into a tight ball, floating in the middle of space mere inches from Magneto's straining form. Together, they are light and life, the powers of Heaven and Hell concentrated into a point of light that, on a cosmic scale, is no bigger than the point of a pin -- not it's head; it's needle point.
But, when that power releases...
The Phoenix's rage, defiance, and very essence explodes outward. It is unprecedented. Not even her time-travelling 'children', such as they may be called, can truly say they have seen anything like this.
And God willing, they never will again.
Because when the blinding white gold fire expands from the point between the man's hands, it does so with the force of the original Big Bang. The best anyone on the island can hope to do is flat themselves enough to avoid the center of the wave.
But, the two in the center? The man and woman? Magneto and the Phoenix? They are gone. Atomized.
All that remains are after-images burned into the retinas of those left behind to remember.
Friends. Family. Children.
All are left behind in a smoking, glass crater that was once earth and steel, hope and aspiration... and is no longer.
Somewhere...
While the battle rages on, Mister Sinister reclines in a comfortable looking, throne-like command chair, watching the battle from afar on a series of monitors as his micro-spies provide him with a live feed. Once the Spire collapses, and just before it's blasted apart moments later, Sinister raises a small flute of champagne towards the screen before him in a toast. "They certainly know how to put on a show. I do hope they all make it out alright," he drawls to the man beside him, his lips turned up in a faint grin. The explosion takes out a few of his closer spies, but several maintain their focus and continue to present Sinister with a live feed of the ending battle. "Oh dear... How are Pestilence and Famine doing, Scalphunter?"
Scalphunter turns from the screens to briefly check a readout a few feet away, monitoring what is clearly a set of five vital signs. "Still alive, Boss."r
"Excellent, tell them to join their fellow Harbingers and begin their mission. The world won't end itself."
"Oh, and Scalphunter? Send a thank you basket to whoever will be replacing Magneto for allowing us to use his little nation for awhile. It made a wonderful smokescreen. Make sure it's the expensive one, as well... He earned it."
Nate can see it coming, because it so much resonates with himself and with his own destiny. And Sinister has left, his mind vanished just as he was trying to hit it again. Next time he needs to disable the teleporter devices first. Hindsight is great, and all that.
But right now he reaches for Rachel, Hope and Kwabena, grabbing them with telekinetic tendrils and pulling them closer. He has no idea Hope is spreading toxins, no doubt they will notice later.
The roar of the shattering spire is deafening, so he resorts to telepathy. Crude telepathy and a mental image. |"Shield. NOW."| He forms the strongest dome he can devise over the group and grits his teeth when the shockwave of the explosion hits it, falling to his knees from the strain.
One by one, Magneto's Vanguard strike at Shift with their blades of energy. Piece after piece of his plasma form are flayed off, spiraling into the unknown cacophony that surrounds them all. And yet still he rages on, assaulting them with arm, foot, and chest, seeking to end their song one note at a time.
When Famine takes control of Magneto and the Spire comes tumbling inward in blazing fragments, his eyes are averted from his prey. There is a gasp upon his glowing face, and he throws himself from his targets mere moments before being battered by the onslaught. Some of the pieces blow right through him. Others are absorbed into his very essence. Still others send him spiraling through the fray, bouncing about like a raging pinball of astral fire. All the while, he's looking for his comrades. This fight was over before it began.
Turning, Kwabena spies Jean and Magneto engaged in their furious battle. His eyes go wide as the deafening silence enshrouds them all, mere moments before a stray chunk of structure strikes, the impact muted by the bending of reality. It sends him spiraling toward the ground, out of control, and when he strikes something solid, his body quite literally explodes against the surface, no longer human in form.
The resulting explosion would have been too much for Shift to bear. However, something invisible grabs and pulls him somewhere. Registering Nate's telepathic message, it's all he can do to dig deep and muster control once more, absorbing the energy tendrils back into a far less excited state. Ironic, how he'd discovered this power in the Spire, and now has to muster it to save not only himself, but his teammates from the scalding effects of his plasma form.
When all is said and done, and the team is left upon a dome of glass, the last remnants of ionized gas disappear, and with a silent sound of displacing air, the flesh-and-bone form of Shift snaps back into appearance. He cranes his neck to see that Jean and Magneto are gone, along with everyone else who wasn't inside of that telepathic bubble created by his fellow X-Men. Standing takes much effort, for his body feels weak and his soul feels numb. Again he looks upward to where the Phoenix battled with the Master of Magnetism, before turning to face the others with a begrudging expression.
"It's ovah," he mutters. "Withdrawal plan B."
There is grief in his voice, a very deep grief that simply cannot be shielded. His eyes flash from one to the other before a determination he didn't know existed comes to the surface.
"It's ovah here," he repeats, sternly. "We're out of time. Move, now!" Turning, he seeks to lead the charge, his half-melted boots crunching the glass beneath them as he makes for the edge of what remains.
Rachel's focus has narrowed. For her, only the fight before her is sharp and clear. The first wave of Marauders is down, felled by her, or by Hope, Rachel's not sure. But more are coming, charging over the bodies of the fallen, seemingly heedless that they're trampling /themselves/ in their rush to get at her.
Hope. Rachel's aware that she's not fighting alone, that Hope's alongside her, wielding more power than Rachel had imagined she could, doing her share and more, but Rachel doesn't call out to her, aloud or with her mind.
Something's wrong. Her link to the Phoenix is gone, the well of living fire that she taps when she pushes her powers to the limit is closed to her. She only has her own reserves, her innate powers, to rely on now, and operating at this level, against an unending stream of enemies... it's hard. It's taking all her concentration. And the longer Rachel fights, the less like /Rachel/ she fights. She reacts without hesitation, she strikes without mercy. An energy harpoon flashes toward her, and with a telekinetic push it impales a Blockbuster even as he lunges for her. The clone's stricken form is then used as a weapon itself, hoisted from the ground and flung towards another group as they ready themselves to strike. Rachel's lips draw back from her teeth in a feral grin. Even the confrontation above her is beginning to recede, to feel like something from another world.
But then the world explodes, and she's suddenly yanked toward Nate. Instinctively, 'Rachel' struggles, but then he's in her mind, and roughly she's reminded of who she really is. Rachel's shields snap up, as much strength as she has left behind them, and she reaches out to Nate and Hope with her mind << Like this! >> Nate has the power, Hope too, but while no Jean Grey, Rachel still has the edge in experience, and if they'll let her, she weaves their shields together into one unit.
And then it's over, and Rachel picks herself up off her knees. She's got a couple of fresh gashes, a lot of new bruises, and she's abused her powers to within an inch of their limits. And she's not aware of any of it. There's something missing from her mind. The Phoenix is gone. And no matter how hard she looks, Jean is gone too. "I can't find her." Rachel whispers, not hearing Shift when he first speaks, then shaking her head as he repeats himself. Still numb, she looks at him, then at the others. "We have to go." She sounds like she's trying to convince herself of that, too, but she finally moves off after him.
Even as all hell continues to break loose...
Hell, this is beyond hell...
This is beyond Armageddon...
This is beyond anything that most sentient beings could ever conceive of...
For the explosion...
The destruction...
The birth and apparent death of The Phoenix and Master of Magnetism...
All of that and /MORE/...
Hope does not fight back as Nate grabs her telepathically. In fact she starts to strengthen his 'dome' with her copied combined powers, under Rachel's guidance.
But with Pestilence now gone, and Magneto gone, she is now just a cloud of a girl who /also/ has the power of two insanely powerful telepaths. The toxins she was spreading are still there, but she's not exactly creating them anymore. Nor is she manipulating magnetic fields.
But there's a limit on just how long she can maintain what she's doing with her remaining powers, even in ideal circumstances. And as things explode, fall apart, crumble, implode, warp, and for an instant change in a way that comes off almost like it alters reality itself, these are not ideal circumstances.
With that said, if she can, she tries to tug people, and a certain slightly broken BFG up telekinetically. Away from here.
It really is time to get out of Berlin. (Yes, yes, Dodge, but the elf is STILL German.) The building is disintegrating under his hands and feet, and there isn't anywhere safe upon which to cling, much less perch. It's getting much more difficult, too, to begin to concentrate when there is such brilliant light, heat, and fire. (He's actually a little surprised that his fuzz hasn't yet caught fire!)
Pestilence finds his elusive Famine, and it's a -bamf- that takes him beside her. Flicking his tail around hers, the easiest way to grab and the most familiar, in the next heartbeat, the pair of Harbingers are gone. Disappeared. Leaving behind the screaming Spire as it melts into nothingness, never noting the passing of a star.
Pestilence and Famine have been unleashed upon the world. And they can be anywhere.
Getting booted out right now is not..what Famine would want to happen. When she's flung from Magneto there's another magenta-hued glow as the black, red, and grey image that had once been Nocturne is cast out into a freefall, surrounded by -all of the energy- being flung around between Magneto and the Phoenix.
Right at ground zero.
If her fur and skin hadn't already been recolored black it would have the opportunity to switch shades here and now. It's like being flung into the center of a hurricane combined with a volcano, so deafening and blinding and turbulent that the sound of her primal scream is lost amidst the chaos of the battle. Her Omega shell is gone. -Now- she's in trouble.
Thank the gods that she's recently discovered a bit of teleportation, herself. Three hundred feet doesn't amount to much here but it does give her enough distance to reconnect with Pestilence mid-fall. It may be the one thing which saves her from death. Or deatomization. Or -something really unpleasant.-
Speaking of unpleasant, some (other) corner of the globe is about to get hit with some very, very bad luck. CNN's going to have an absolute field day this month.
The Spire, a slagged heap of steel and a glassy crater. Jean and Magneto gone. The X-men in disarray. Two of the Horsemen, unleashed onto the world. As the sun sets in the west, there's a sense of foreboding over Genosha- a hundred thousand eyes turned towards what had been a symbol of of authority and power. Gone is the Imperator. Gone is the man who would be king- who had led the residents of Bastion to glory, to a new life. The setting sun seems a fitting metaphor for the glorious rise of Magneto, the leader of mutants the world over- and the rise of Sinister's dark night, where great men are laid low and the Horsemen...
...the Horsemen /ride/.
Category:Log