X-MEN
ETERNITY
THE CROSSROADS
by
R. John Burke
(Note: X-Men is a copyright of Marvel comics. Just
fan fiction, no infringement intended.)
*********************
NINE: FINALE
The Slayer recoiled from Mystique's metal projectiles, but there was nowhere to go. In its weakened state, it could not penetrate the force field. There was a shrieking sound, and then stillness.
Mystique smiled and touched an intercom switch. "I think it's done, Scott. That was a nice fake; even *I* thought you really wanted him to find Drake."
"The good guys can do one or two things, Mystique," said Scott's voice.
"Heh! Fair en-- Forge?"
The Cheyenne took a step forward, eyes half-closed, calling on the lesser-used half of his heritage... that of a mystical shaman.
"There's not nearly enough power here," he said. "This was a fragment of a fragment."
"Meaning what?"
He frowned at Mystique. "Meaning, I wonder who's faking who out."
She leaned close to the intercom. "You'd better assemble Wolverine's team. We may need them after all."
****
--X-Men, stay sharp,-- said Scott's voice over mindlink. --Forge thinks we've still got a problem.--
Alex Summers slumped against the wall. *Scottie, we've got more than one. Northstar's about half-dead and the new gal, Monolith, might be more than half. Most of us are burned, and Storm's not too great herself. Lorna wants to bring the worst-off to the Infirmary, but she's weakened; better have Hank...*
--Hank's hurt; Annie's down there, though.--
"Annie?" said Alex, who hadn't realized his former flame was back. "Lorna will be thrilled..."
--Yes, by all means, let's worry about our love triangles now,-- Scott said.
*Look who's talking, brother. We'll deal.* He sighed. "Lorna, I'm going to see if I can find us some more help. Metralla, Barnabas?"
The newcomers fell into step with him. Alex headed for the staircase, but halted at the sound of sonic screams below. Wasn't the fight supposed to be over? He leaned closer, trying to hear...
Behind him, Metralla whispered to her partner: "*Fabuloso*, by the way. I never knew you could share your visions..."
"Oh. That was a present."
"What kind of present?"
"I'll show you."
CRACK. Alex turned, afraid he recognized the sound even as he started to ask what it was. Barnabas was holding his friend's body; her neck tilted at an unnatural angle. As Alex powered up, he tossed her aside.
"You killed my master," Barnabas said. "This is too good for you."
Before Alex could get off a shot, he was lifted off his feet and thrown through the window...
****
BLINK! BLINK! BLINK!
"Keep 'em coming," Blink said, holding out her hand for another improvised javelin to imbue with her power and toss at a knot of renegade Madroxes.
BLINK!
"Geez, it's like Night of the Living Me around here!" Jamie Madrox leaned heavily against the wall. "I'm feeling kind of woozy. How many have you sent to the cornfield, anyway?"
"Not enough. One thing I know from my dimension, the only good Madri is a dead Madri. Present company excepted, of course."
"Naturally." Jamie turned a corner, and found himself staring down... himself. A black-eyed self, so he punched it out, creating another duplicate who had to be corralled. "Hi, there. Good or bad?"
"Um..." said the brown-eyed dupe. "I really just... wow, I just got here and you're asking me to contemplate the fundamental nature of my existence. This is heavy, man."
"You're good... enough," Jamie said, and pushed him toward the front lines.
A little distance away, the Cassidys stood back-to-back, their screams keeping dozens of duplicates at bay. One of the Madri bulled through, kamikaze-style, and tackled Siryn.
"You shouldn't have left me, Terry," he whispered, reaching for her throat.
"As I recall, *you* broke it off with *me*."
"HELLO? Crazy evil duplicate here. I don't have to make sense!"
*Great, even the bad ones have his sense of humor.* Before she had to endure another joke, Sean pulled the duplicate off his daughter, SCREAMED, and discarded what was left of it.
"Thanks, Da," she said, accepting a hand up.
"When this is over," he said, "we *should* have that talk about yer taste in men."
"I don't know, I think th' present one's doing alright..."
Which he was. James Proudstar was in among half a dozen Madroxes, taking on all comers with his remaining knife, or sometimes his bare fists. He really seemed to be enjoying himself., so much so that he laughed when he saw Barnabas coming down the stairs.
"Hey, big man. It's about time-- we can use the help. Jump in anywhere."
Barnabas buried his head in his hands. "The others... are all dead."
"What?"
"Storm killed them. She is still being controlled."
"What the..." Proudstar moved toward the stairs to investigate. As he passed Barnabas, the other reached out to him, as though to steady himself; Proudstar flipped his knife into his opposite hand and, in a single motion, drove it through the big mutant's chest. Barnabas howled and staggered....
"Jimmy, have yeh gone mad?!" Theresa called.
"He was lying," Proudstar said, glowering. "Enhanced senses, remember? He was about to break my neck."
"But did yeh have to..."
"Knew he would," Barnabas breathed. He didn't look too displeased. "Visions... are never wrong..."
He collapsed, and a tendril of shadow drifted out of him. It formed a barrier at the bottom of the stairs; for all his strength, Proudstar could not put a dent in it.
"What th' hell is goin' on?" Rahne Sinclair called from the other side of the room.
"We need Sam over here! NOW!"
Cannonball would be able to break it down, or so Proudstar assumed. He hoped Sam wouldn't come too late.
****
"Paige! C'mon, darlin', it's time."
Wolverine, Colossus, and Sabretooth waited in the doorway-- as motley a crew as one could want to go on a mission with, but Paige Guthre seemed glad to have a distraction from the awkward moment.
Jonothon Starsmore was rather glad of it himself; on some level, he knew what he'd done hadn't been his fault, that a lot of X-Men had been captured by the Slayer, their darker sides exposed, but it didn't help much. He felt positively naked, no way to conceal his jealousy or pass it off as trivial. Not now. Not with Paige and Warren getting...
"I'll... be back," Paige said, stopping at the door. "Jono, please don't think--"
"Move it, kid!" Sabretooth pulled her into the corridor. "I ain't gonna die here today because you're draggin' your feet."
Wolverine got in his face. "Mind yer manners, Creed. Kid's one of us."
"Ain't you heard the news? So am I." Sabretooth laughed. "What good's she gonna do, anyway? You think that frail can fight?"
"Yeah," said Paige. She husked to solid steel, but with a twist... normally she only changed her composition, hardly ever her shape, so Jono was surprised when she held up her arm... now a razor-sharp iron lance. "Yeah, I think I can fight."
"Well, all right then," said Victor Creed, eyes shining with anticipation. "Let's do this."
Then they were gone. Bishop and Monet turned to leave, too. Jono remained in place, staring at nothing, coming to a decision in his mind. He started toward the door...
Only to find Monet blocking his path. "Where do you think you're going?"
--Out. Like you.--
"Not after Paige?"
Jono considered a lie, but those dark eyes didn't allow one. --I can't let her be hurt, M. I can't take a chance it'll end... like that.--
Monet frowned at him. "I shouldn't let you go. There's a *reason* only those with metal are supposed to face him. If he possesses you..."
--He won't,-- Jono said. --I know what to do.--
Something in his eyes must have convinced Monet. She moved to the side-- then shocked him with a kiss on the cheek when he tried to pass.
"Be careful," she said. "I don't want to lose another friend."
Jono couldn't look at her. He nodded vaguely and hurried after Paige.
****
Nathan Christopher Summers was becoming frustrated.
He could *feel* the battle raging all around him-- a hundred emotions, dominated by rage and pain. He wasn't one of these people. He wasn't an X-Man. It wasn't his problem. But it *was* a battle, and he hated to be left out of a fight-- especially with the monster that killed Neena.
But he trusted Jean, and Jean's instructions were that he should remain outside the mansion, in Storm's carriage house, devoting all his mental energy to sending out a particular signal, like a distress call. But a call to whom? There were only so many other telepaths in a big world-- he might as well cast a line into the ocean without any bait.
Suddenly, he felt a presence-- more accurately, four of them rolled into one.
"He's here, like Jean promised," said Mindee.
"*This* isn't Cable," said Phoebe. "Are we sure he's strong enough?"
"He's cuter than our Cable," said Celeste. "Maybe he's stronger, too."
"Er-- hi," said Sophie. "Ignore them. They were expecting a different Nathan Summers. But we can work with you."
"Work with me... to do what?" Nathan asked.
Sophie smiled. "What do you think? It's time to wake the Professor."
****
"NO!" cried Lorna Dane, as Havok went out the window. She channeled her magnetic power, but the big mutant was gone before she could nail him, and what was left over... wasn't there. Suddenly the air turned very cold. Ice-cold, in fact. The wind and rain summoned by Storm coalesced... into Bobby Drake, who knelt beside Lorna.
"It's okay," he said, and hugged her. "We're going to..."
--THERE you are. I thought that might coax you out of hiding. Bonus points, Robert, for not actually making me threaten her. That would have been so cliché."
Bobby turned to face the gathering shadows. "What'd you do to Savant?"
--Robert, I'm disappointed. Your whole strategy has been based around visions from the future-- you know I've *been* to the future-- and you *didn't think I'd get to the precog?* Who do you think gave him his amusing little power? I set this up from the beginning. You, Miss Lee... even Xavier, all playing into my hands, to bring about this... my birth, if you will. The fulfillment of my power. Of course, these things are cyclical. To everything, a season, as you know.
"I am born... and all of you die."
"Bobby, run," Lorna said. "He wants *you*... I'll hold him off!"
"No," said the Iceman. "No, I've had enough of this guy, thanks, Lorna. Be careful what you wish for, pal-- you want me? All right-- YOU GOT ME!"
He turned to snow and ice, then faded into the air, this time surrounding the Slayer, supercooling the atmosphere so it couldn't pull its trick with Ororo's power again, corralling it into smaller and smaller a space. For a minute, he could see the thing's thoughts. It was actually afraid, for a minute. And then it lashed out.
"ARRRRRGH!" Bobby cried, and solidified against his will-- this time, with a black shadow inside him. The Slayer. He fought with all his might, but slowly, his eyes turned black. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
"At last-- at LAST, my full power. I've waited so long." He turned and smiled. "Hi, Lorna. Want to have some fun?"
"Sure," she said. "I'll go first."
WHAM! Magneto himself might not have been able to hit him with such a raw, ferocious blast of power... but of course, the Slayer had already confronted Magneto and walked away. The Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver... the entire House of Magnus had tried to kill him, and failed. He did not expect this little girl to be any more difficult.
CRASH! came the sound of a Cannonball smashing through his barrier, followed by four metal-plated X-Men. The Slayer laughed. The more the merrier.
"Top floor, guys, do it to it," said Sam Guthrie. "Sure I can't...?"
Sabretooth snarled, "Get outta here, cornball, you're no good against him!"
"I'll go round me up some Madri, then..."
He blasted back downstairs, leaving the Slayer alone with his toys. Bobby Drake's body advanced on them. "You're not much better, Creed. Come on! Your best shot, right *here*! You think I fear you *now?*"
"You will, bub," said Wolverine. "Creed, you remember that time in South America?"
"Yeah. Surprised *you* do."
"HIT 'im!" Wolverine snarled, and they leaped to the attack. Bobby reached out to repel them with the magnetic power he'd borrowed from Magneto, but--
--but something strove against him. Lorna, reigning him in with all her might. He had to resort to Rachel's teke to knock the two berserkers away... but couldn't do the job fast enough, and he got tagged by a set of claws on each side. Bobby Drake screamed.
Wolverine hit the ground near Lorna and Storm. "Ororo, you with us, darlin'?"
"I am... *barely*, Logan."
"Need you to keep it hot n' dry. He knows that trick, but that's no reason to leave it on the table."
Storm nodded. "I shall do what I can..."
She whipped up a desert breeze, nearly choking the life out of the Slayer, and when he turned to deal with her--
"Petey, GO NOW!"
Colossus had already been moving. He hit the Slayer dead-center with one-- two-- three blows that would have killed a mortal man, the third actually shattering the Iceman's body. The Slayer flew apart, then gathered himself, transforming to vapor as Drake had done... but he'd barely begun before he had to reform. At first he didn't understand; then came a telepathic voice, stronger than all the others:
--I'm afraid I've been forced to 'turn off' some of Bobby's power. It's a simple post-hypnotic suggestion... for one who knows his mind as well as I do.--
If the Slayer's vessel hadn't already been made of ice, he would have frozen solid. He'd hoped never to hear that voice again. His howl was wordless at first, filled with a fury and torment beyond the civilized ability to express. It resolved into a word. A name.
"XAVIEERRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!"
****
--Warren Worthington!--
The Angel woke with with a groggy recollection of having been talking to Cecilia and Hank-- then some kind of attack-- then Cecilia staggering off to the Infirmary with Kurt, promising to return soon for her less badly injured friends. Now he was alone, save for the unconscious Hank... and with a familiar voice in his head.
*Not you again,* he thought to the Slayer. *Why do you keep playing games with me?*
--I think it's the Iceman in me,-- the other said. --With all these heroes rattling around my mind, I can't help being a little suicidal sometimes. I think he wanted to give one of his old friends a chance to beat me. But Jean and Scott and Hank are all too smart-- they'd have succeeded where you failed. I may be self-loathing, but I'm not stupid.--
*Well, congratulations,* Warren thought. He could see the Slayer's present situation in his mind. *You're about to get your wish. I couldn't be happier...*
--Weep, then, for your child bride.--
*What?*
The Slayer fast-forwarded time a little bit, to the end of his own life, which was not far-off... at the hands of Paige Guthrie, who would then be consumed in a backlash of absolute cold that no human being, or mutant, could endure.
--I suggest you find a way to save my life,-- the Slayer said, --for if I die, she who strikes the deathblow dies with me.--
****
"KEEP AT 'IM!" Logan yelled, raking his claws down Bobby Drake's back.
The Slayer turned and would have blown the little man through the open window, but Lorna caught him. And while he was trying to do that, Colossus came in and nearly knocked his head off. He staggered from that right into Paige, who pounded him against the wall.
The Slayer was exhausted; he kept trying to teleport, but with his host weakened, Xavier hammering away telepathically, and Lorna and Storm tightening the noose, he couldn't even manage that.
Creed came next, digging those damnable claws deep into his borrowed chest. The Slayer sent him reeling with a jolt of lightning, but knew that no amount of reinforcement would keep his vessel going under this kind of punishment.
He was going to die. After a thousand years, an infinite number of Universes, his life was going to end. How unfair was *that?* He wondered if it had to be this way: What might he have achieved, if the Adversary's vendetta against the X-Men hadn't corrupted him from the start? If he hadn't hated them more with every battle, every grudge, until he'd almost rather kill one of them than live himself?
But it was far too late for that. All he could do was battle to the last, and try to take a great many of them with him.
He still had one weapon he hadn't used much: Jonothon Starsmore's psionic chamber, which he unleashed on Paige and Wolverine as they circled around for another strike. The problem with using this weapon was that the energy he'd drawn from Chamber was a primary source of his power, so the more energy he used, the weaker he became...
At least it was effective. Wolverine left claw marks across the room as he struggled not to get blown away. Paige couldn't even do that-- she was going to make a satisfying crash when she landed, except...
--Gotcher, luv,-- said a voice, and Jonothon Starsmore appeared in the doorway. He fired a low-level burst, using fine control the Slayer had taught him, cushioning Paige's descent to the ground.
"Jono..." she said.
The Slayer grinned. --Oh, that was very stupid, Jonothon. You have no metal. I can possess you. I can get away. I--"
--You'd think so,-- said Chamber, --but then I've been wonderin'... all that power yer drained from me. You were right, mate: We're a lot alike at our core. But I reckon if I can give... then I can take.--
--ZZZZZRRAAAAAACCCKKK!!!! Energy blasted involuntarily from Bobby Drake's body... straight *into* Jonothon Starsmore, who telepathically screamed with the effort but drew in more and more... drew in *everything*...
"ARGH!" The Slayer snarled, knocking Colossus and Creed away with the last of his telekinetic might. But that was all. He was powerless. He couldn't even leave Drake's body.
With the other three floored, that left Paige Guthrie standing before him, as he'd foreseen. The Slayer smiled at her.
"Come on, girl. Do it. Put us all out of our misery."
"I know you want me to hate you," Paige said. "I don't. Even after all you did to me an' Warren an' our friends... I don't hate you.
"But I *really* dislike you," she said, and stabbed for his heart--
"PAIGE, NO!" Something-- an avenging Angel-- swooped through the window and knocked her aside. The girl looked betrayed. Creed swore. The Slayer laughed.
"Very good, Warren. Now, let me into your mind and we'll--"
"You thought I was here to save you? Let me draw you a picture: I'm an angel. You're a demon. Go to hell."
Warren produced a knife and plunged it into what would have been Bobby Drake's heart. He screamed and then *shattered* into icy mist that consumed his friend, leaving only the shadow beneath. Amorphous at first, the metal stuck into it seemed to solidify it... it became the shape of a man... the man died and turned to ash.
With the Slayer's death knell still ringing in their ears, the X-Men looked around at each other.
"Bobby...?" Lorna breathed. "No..."
"C'mon..." Logan muttered.
The icy cloud condensed and reformed on the ground next to Lorna-- as an exhausted, dripping wet, and rather nude Bobby Drake.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured to Lorna. "Omega Mutant, my *ass*. Speaking of which, would somebody cover...?
Lorna draped her cape over him, laughing.
But the news wasn't all good: Warren lay on the ground a few meters away, nearly frozen, with Paige holding him and sobbing:
"No... aw, no, please... please, no..."
"Darlin'," Wolverine croaked, stumbling toward her.
"NO! His healing factor... it'll..."
"Sorry, babe," Creed said. "That ain't gonna heal. I can *smell* it."
"NO! Shut up! SHUT UP, he'll--"
"Paige," Warren squeezed her hand. "It's okay..."
"No... no, I love you... I would have said yes..."
He nodded slightly. "I know. He showed me that, too. You would have been miserable. Too different..."
"Aw, Warren, honey... that was just *his* future. Ours could have been *anything*..."
Warren tried to say something, but couldn't get it out. His last breath left him. Paige wailed. The others looked away.
Except Jono. --You... really love him, eh?--
Paige ignored him, sobbing.
--Yeh, I guess yer do. Right, then. Good-bye, Sunshine.--
He knelt opposite Paige. When he'd been a captive of the Slayer (* in X-Factor), the thing had made an interesting implication once: It said that Jono, being primarily a creature of energy like itself, could operate the way it did. Could choose any body he liked and invest it with his energy. Even Warren's. Jono wasn't sure he believed that... but he was damned if he'd let a man die without giving it a try.
He laid his hands on the Angel's chest and released some of the energy he'd just absorbed-- then all of it-- then some of his own energy. Warren's body began to glow.
Paige drew back with a gasp. "Jono, what...?"
--C'mon,-- he thought desperately. --C'mon, yer ponce! I know yer in there... I'm doin' my part. You do yours. I dunno why she loves yer, but she does, so live! LIVE!!!"
The whole room lit up as all the energy from Jono's psionic chamber poured into Warren. When it was empty, he collapsed, nothing left but the used-up shell of a body he'd been stuck in since the day his mutation manifested. Paige screamed...
...at the same moment the Angel began to breathe.
"By the White Wolf!" Piotr exclaimed.
Logan put it more succinctly: "Sonofab..."
Except the last part was drowned out by Paige, who threw her arms around him and started kissing desperately: "Warren! Warren, baby, you're really... I mean, you're...?"
"Paige?" he groaned, and looked at her with glowing eyes the color of Jono's chamber. He said in a distinct accent: "I think I botched something, Sunshine..."