X-MEN ETERNITY

Uncanny X-Men #6: "New England Mile"
Rated PG-13 for violence and language

by R. John Burke
X-Men Eternity Message Board: http://solofan.proboards76.com/index.cgi

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men are a copyright of Marvel Comics. I don't own them, but this is only non-profit fan fiction. No money is involved and no infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: X-Men Eternity started with the events at the end of "House of M" and went in a different direction. Nothing that happened after that is cannon for our purposes, and in fact a few things have changed. Most importantly, the majority of the X-Men have been scattered through space and time.

"Uncanny X-Men" is the series dealing with those left behind.

***************************************************************

He didn't even know why he was doing it.

The mutant killer Victor Creed-- Sabretooth-- had never done an unselfish thing in his life. Not on purpose, anyway. Not that he didn't end up regretting. But now he'd jumped unhesitatingly into the fire-- or at least the heart of the foul, bone-chilling cloud that represented the Slayer entity-- for no better reason than to protect young Clarice Ferguson, the teleporting mutant called Blink, from harm. (* last issue)

Creed decided he might be a data point in the case for mutant healing factors killing brain cells. If that adamantium-plated runt could have seen him now, he'd laugh and laugh.

Maybe he'd secretly wanted to try his hand at "noble." Maybe he'd been so keyed-up after a night off chatter that he was willing to kill *anything*, on either side.

Or maybe he'd felt something unfamiliar from Blink-- the real love she had for him, for no better reason than he looked like the alternate-reality Sabretooth who raised her. Maybe it was impossible to feel that kind of love from a person for very long without wanting, on some level, to be worthy of it.

Maybe he was just a psychopath. Honestly, Creed didn't give it a lot of thought. His ends might have been better than usual, but his means were pretty much the same. Charge in, rend and tear, make your enemy hurt-- lots. It was an approach that Creed found just as effective as more complicated philosophies, with less time wasted.

The cloud retreated from him, billowing off in other directions. It almost looked *afraid* of Creed, as though his claws could do it physical damage. That seemed absurd, but it kept retreating-- even as Creed penetrated to the heart of it and grabbed Blink, who collapsed in his arms.

"Wow," she murmured into his chest, "didn't see *that* coming. Suddenly I believe in happy endings. It's eerie."

"Just blink us, kid."

"Right."

BLINK. One relatively painless teleport later, they were out of the cloud and standing next to Scott Summers-- Cyclops--

Just as the cloud was flowing into *him*.

Scott howled when the thing invaded his consciousness. He fell to his knees, clawing at his eyes, muttering: "No. No. I am in control. You can't make me lose control. *I am in*-- I am-- I-- NO! JEAN!!!"

The leader of the X-Men ripped off his ruby quartz glasses and unleashed an incredible burst of energy into the sky. His whole body trembled for a moment. Then he turned to the others...

Without his glasses. His eyes flashed, alternately black and glowing red.

"Well," he said, "that wasn't easy. His willpower's formidable, but his self-loathing makes a nice change from all that raw instinct. *This* I can work with. And now we'll give him something to *really* feel guilty about."

Blink held javelins ready in both hands. "Don't even play this game."

"I'm likin' it," Creed said. "I get to kill Summers an' be the good guy. My day keeps gettin' better."

Snarling, he launched himself at Cyclops' body-- but the Slayer now controlling it chuckled.

"Idiot," he said, and unleashed Scott's full power.

The brutal force of the beams that he would have instinctively held back, even at his angriest, poured straight into Victor Creed's chest. He was blasted all the way across the street and through a doorway. Anyone less sturdy than Sabretooth would have been annihilated. As it was, he couldn't move for a while, and he hurt worse than the time the runt had cut him into pieces. *Little* pieces.

With his enhanced vision and hearing, he could still monitor the situation: Clarice Ferguson stood alone in the middle of a killing field. Mystique and Creed were down. Her leader had turned against her. There was not the slightest ounce of give in her posture.

"Good girl," Sabretooth purred, while Summers offered her his hand.

"Come on," he said. "Why delay the inevitable?"

Blink made a couple of choice comments about the Slayer's personal habits. Now Sabretooth was *certain* he had raised her.

"Fine," said the villain. "Rabbit, then. I don't blame you. Of course... Creed will come back, and I'll kill him this time. Or if you should manage to blink him out of danger... well, maybe I'll make Scotty jump off a bridge. Won't that be fun?"

"You b------," Clarice murmured. "If you want me so bad, come get me. Leave them alone."

"It's by threatening them that I, so to speak, *get* you, dear. Come with me now; they'll both live a while. Otherwise one will die. You only have to choose which."

Blink looked from the outstretched hand of the Slayer all the way back to where Victor Creed lay in a puddle of his blood on somebody's floor. Her eyes narrowed in decision...

"Almost healed," Creed murmured. "Another *second*..."

Blink sighed. "Heh. Happy ending for an Exile. That was a good one, while it lasted."

"You won't resist?"

Creed found his feet-- running immediately, although still in pain. He hit the street, claws splayed out, legs pumping with all his considerable might.

"Thank you," Blink whispered, in a voice she had to know only Creed could hear. She turned to the Slayer. "Put on the glasses. No tricks."

He obeyed, restoring Scott to a condition of won't-blast-the-hell-out-of-people. Then the shadows leaked out of Summers, who collapsed, and into Clarice. Her own eyes glittered black.

Creed leaped at her with a roar, resolved to ending this if nothing else, to make this dude pay for all this self-doubting crap, but even as his claws reached out toward his possessed "daughter"--

BLINK. Creed passed right through her and landed face-first in the asphalt.

He swore. He snarled. He turned on Summers with every intention of ripping the body to shreds.

Someone caught his arm. Mystique, barely conscious and already trying to boss him. Creed glared, daring her to take exception. She didn't yield. They needed Summers. They needed all of them. This was more than one fight. Now they had scores to settle.

"Fine," Creed said, dropping his claws. "But *somebody* dies. Maybe *lots* of people."

Mystique nodded. She seemed to feel the very same...

****

PAF!

The last of the locks keeping Jubilation Lee and Emma Frost out of their old stomping grounds fell away, and the two women stepped into the main building at what had been the Massachusetts Academy. For Jubilee, it was kind of like looking through a book of beloved family photos and finding out somebody had drawn mustaches and horn-rimmed glasses on all the people. Everything was so gray, so dark, so... empty. She shuddered.

"I feel like I'm dancing on Ev's grave," she muttered.

"We can refrain from doing the tango, dear, if it will make you feel better." Emma swept a flashlight to either side, looking for something that... well, Jubilee had no freaking idea what she was looking for, except the entrance to some kind of underground tunnel (* see the last issue), and the White Queen was not being forthcoming.

"Ha!" said Emma suddenly, and Jubilee jumped.

"What? Found it?"

She didn't know what she expected Emma to say; something snarky, no doubt. She sure didn't think it would be: "That mark is still on the wall."

Jubilee frowned. "Oh, yeah, from when Angelo surprised Jono with that water balloon."

"No, dear, that mark is on the south wall. This one's from the time Miss Guthrie and Miss St. Croix fought over the last pint of Häagen-Dazs."

"No kidding? You've got a better memory than me."

"I always remember my children," Emma said, tight-lipped.

They kept moving. Jubilee tried not to think about the hours she'd spent in this place, the lessons, the occasional fight with a rogue supervillain. All the times she'd wanted to totally give M a kick in the rear. Late-night talks with Paige. Letters from Wolvie. Paffing stuff in the Danger Room. Good times, except for the constant brushes with death. Actually, looking back, Jubilee thought she might have liked the brushes with death best of all.

"So what's up, Emma?" she said, as they crept from room to cobwebbed room. "What's the deal with this place? What's it got to do with the Hellfire Club?"

When she answered, Emma's voice was unusually quiet. "Did you know that shortly before your time with the X-Men, Magneto was White King of the Hellfire Club?"

She frowned. "Sounds kinda familiar. I guess they'll let *anybody* in. No offense."

"None taken. This was during Magneto's stint as headmaster at Xavier's. There was something of a de facto alliance in place. Just one of those strange-bedfellows things that happens to superheroes from time to time."

"So... the X-Men were in bed with Magneto, who was in bed with the Hellfire Club? Suddenly I've lost all respect for us." Jubilee stopped and shuddered. "Wait... if he was White King an' you were White Queen, that doesn't mean... you guys... uset'a..."

Emma laughed. "Not in that sense, dear. Although I will admit, the thought crossed my mind. Magneto was quite attractive, back in the day. I'm sure you've noticed the man's charisma."

"EW! NEVER speak of that again!"

The White Queen shrugged. "I'm simply trying to make clear to you that the politics of the X-Men's relationship with the Hellfire Club have not always been as simple as they are now."

"Gotcha. It's a bitter yet complex hatred."

Emma paused before her old office, a door Jubilee remembered 'cause she'd spent more than one afternoon there after paffing notes in class. (A pursuit similar to passing notes, but with the added element of detonation.) Then, with a determined look on her face, the White Queen continued through the gloom until she found the door to the basement. Jubes reached out to get the lock, but Emma decided to tackle this one personally. Shifting to her diamond form, she shattered the door with a couple of blows.

Jubilee whistled softly. "S'okay... we've all got some aggression to work out..."

"I was saying," the older woman continued while they creaked down the stairs, "Shaw and Magneto were bitter rivals for most of his tenure. I used to like to play one off the other. But I later found, thanks to Shaw's letter (* unearthed last issue), they had collaborated on one... small... project, without my input. What's worse, they placed it *here*, at my own school, apparently because they feared even to have it discovered by the rest of the Hellfire Club. Shaw knew I could be trusted to do what needed to be done if *this* ever happened, but he didn't trust me with their little secret. Not directly."

Jubilee snorted. "Y'mean the two nastiest villains in the history of the X-Men *dissed* you?"

"Yes, and speaking as the *third*-nastiest villain in the history of the X-Men, I won't pretend I wasn't hurt. Not to mention surprised-- I never thought they could slip so much past my telepathy."

"I feel for ya. I remember the time Apocalypse forgot my birthday. That sucked."

Emma gave her a dirty look. "Yes, yes, sarcasm duly noted, dear. Help me with this while you're gloating, won't you?"

She was referring to a large crate stacked against one wall, which she and Jubilee spent several sweaty moments attempting to push before Jubilee stepped back, shrugged, and-- PAF!-- blew it to shards.

Emma frowned. "You know, there's a great deal of dry kindling in here..."

"*You* said to blow it up."

"Preferably not with us inside."

"Be more specific," the girl said, and knelt on the ground. She felt around the wall behind the crate, and found a seam. "Is this a panel? You had a FREAKING SECRET PANEL in the basement the whole time Gen-X was training here, and YOU NEVER TOLD US?!"

Emma gave a long-suffering sigh. "In the first place, I *didn't* know until receiving the letter, some time later. In the second place, you never asked."

She reached down for the key she'd recovered with the letter. There was a slot visible, but not an ordinary lock. Instead, the little black hole seemed almost to sniff Emma's hand experimentally, distend... and swallow the bit of metal from her palm.

"Did that thing just eat the key?" Jubilee asked.

Emma nodded. She seemed equally surprised.

"You were expecting that, right? I guess that thing eats keys all the time? Please tell me it's a rare, key-eating panel and this is all going according to plan?"

"Jubilation, dear, I have two suggestions: Tone down the banter... and hold on tight."

Emma took her hand. Jubilee stared at her with huge brown eyes-- then down at the panel, which seemed to be expanding.

"Is it gonna eat us? Oh, *man!* Emma-- I think it's gonna eat us-- Emma, WHERE DOES THIS THING LEAD?"

In the moment before they disappeared, Emma Frost favored her protegé with a tight, nervous smile of her own:

"Down the rabbit hole, dear."

Then they were gone.

****

Jean-Paul Beaubier was teaching an economics class to bored teenagers when the end began. The man called Northstar would rather have been helping Iceman, Warpath, and Siryn question their prisoners, but with James Proudstar present, they didn't need a bad cop, and Jean-Paul would have made a deplorable good cop. So he would do what he could, and right now that meant business as usual.

"Who can define Gross Domestic Product? Anyone? Oh, come, children, this is simple! Aren't any of you paying attention? Gross Domestic Product iiiissss... the total market... someone! Ms. Cuckoo, how about you? Ms. Cuckoo, are you asleep? I assure you, my class is *not* the place to nod off. Perhaps..."

He approached the girl cautiously, for her head was bowed and her breathing strange. Her white-knuckled fingers gripped the edge of her desk. Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes glowing brighter than Jean-Paul had ever seen them. She threw back her head and howled:

"NooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Several students jumped. Hisako Ichiki, sitting two seats down from Phoebe, instinctively armored up. Even Jean-Paul flinched from the raw ferocity of the outburst. And the girl wasn't done:

"They're all GONE! Every... single... ONE of them! That little TRAMP has killed them ALL!"

"Phoebe--" Jean-Paul said, reaching out to her.

He was nearly brained for his trouble. Articles started flying around the room. Small things-- pens and pencils and books. Then desks and chairs and, well, students got added to the mix. Before the reality-shifting House of M, the Stepford Cuckoos had been telepaths only, like their mentor Emma Frost. Now there seemed no limit to their newfound abilities, telekinesis among them.

And Phoebe's teke was going just a bit insane. She waved, and three of her fellow students went flying. One of them, Hisako, crashed through the window, and could have been seriously hurt if not for her armor. Then the shards of glass from the window started flying, too.

Jean-Paul tried to get in her way. He felt *himself* levitated for his trouble. One of the shards slashed his cheek, drawing blood.

"Phoebe, calm down!" he shouted above the chaos. "You must calm down! Tell me what is the--"

"We were NICE! We FORGAVE her! She was ONE of us! And she did it AGAIN!" Phoebe extended her hand, palm-outward, and Jean-Paul flew back and slammed into the chalkboard. "Now it's OVER! Now there's NOTHING LEFT! Because of her, we've FAILED! But she'll be so-- very-- SORRY!"

Jean-Paul didn't even try to stop his student as she stormed from the room. He hadn't the faintest idea if stopping her was possible. He only knew he did not want to be the person she was talking about, and whoever they were, he rather pitied them.

****

Phoebe didn't know where she was going. She didn't think it mattered. Where she was really going was into her mind, into the dark space between Universes. The place where she met Esme.

The last time the Five-in-One had convened in full (* last issue), they'd decided to trust Esme despite her flaws, to keep her among their number. Since then, they'd done nothing but pay for that mistake. (* in the X-Force, X-Factor, and eXcalibur series). Celeste was hurt. Sophie was gone. Now it seemed Mindee was dead. And Esme...

Esme was standing before her, clad like she thought she was Miss Frost's evil twin. (The mind boggled at the concept of Emma being anybody's *good* twin, but that nevertheless seemed to be the case). She smiled sweetly at her remaining sister as though nothing was wrong.

Phoebe stuck out her lower lip. "Have you come to kill me now?"

"If I must."

"I'll fight you."

Esme shrugged. "Sophie couldn't fight. I'm using her body now. And Sophie's far stronger than you."

"I will *fight* you," Phoebe said, stepping forward in her mind. "And I'll get Bobby Drake to fight you. And you will lose. You will lose, you little b--"

"Phoebe!" her sister said, arms spread wide. "It doesn't have to be like this. You were always my favorite. I want to help you. There's nothing left for you here-- come and join us!"

"Never," Phoebe said.

Esme grinned. "Why, because of Xavier? He's an evil old man! If you knew the things he's done... I've seen them, Mindee. I've seen the Slayer's mind, and he knows *everything*."

"Except goodness. Except honor. He knows all the things the X-Men know except how to love."

"Love!" Esme snorted. "*Child*. What do you know about love?"

"I know we loved you once," Phoebe said, "and now you're dead. I'm very sorry, but you're dead."

Esme's face darkened. Her telepathic power began to push. "How *dare* you speak to me like that, you--"

Phoebe turned her back on the mirror-image, deliberately snubbing her sister.

*OUT*, she thought, and with strength she hadn't known she possessed, booted Esme from her mind. Then she did the only thing left for her to do, the biggest reason she was here, the thing she now realized she should have done a week ago.

*It's time for Bobby Drake,* she thought. *It's time for him to dream. Right... NOW.*

****

James Proudstar drew one of his vibranium knives, studied it under the light, then held it casually near the cheek of Sarita Vazquez-- Metralla, one of their prisoners from Mystique's new Brotherhood of Mutants. (* see the fight last issue) The woman, as ornery a customer as he'd ever seen, stared back with fire in her eyes.

"As a newbie, you may not know the exact rules, so let me explain," Proudstar said. "You're a certified supervillain now. You can look forward to a life of petty crime, hiding from justice, and getting the crap beat out of you by men and women wearing Spandex. If you're *lucky*, when you retire, you might be granted asylum in Latveria or someplace. I suggest you learn to goose-step."

Metralla grumbled something in Spanish. Proudstar had to admit she cussed pretty good. There were a few in there he didn't know. He laughed, continuing:

"The good news for you is, heroes are an admirable lot. Nine times out of ten, the fellow kicking your butt for you will be a nice, non-lethal person." He pressed the knife a little closer. "The bad news is that this is the tenth time, and I'm not one. You've got ten seconds to talk. Use them well."

Metralla opened her mouth, but it was Bobby Drake who spoke. He stood over the shoulder of Theresa Rourke Cassidy, Siryn, who was using her mesmerizing 'song' to entrance Barnabas, the powerful mutant called Savant who kept insisting that Proudstar was going to kill him. (* starting in Uncanny #2) Proudstar didn't know why they kept wasting time on that guy-- he wasn't the brightest bulb, and they had three other prisoners. But Bobby seemed interested in him most of all.

"If you're gonna talk that much, take it outside," Bobby said. "We're working here."

"*This* is the man lecturing *me* about unnecessary chatter." Proudstar grunted. "I could go right to flaying her, but I thought you'd disapprove.""At this moment? Sounds like a--"

The sound Bobby made was hard to describe, but he flat-out collapsed. Terry lunged to catch him, missed, and checked his vitals. Then she SCREAMED loud enough for Annie in the infirmary to hear without an intercom.

Proudstar ran to her side. The Iceman was face-up on the floor, with eyes wide open and frost spreading under his back as though his power had gone berserk. He didn't seem to be breathing very well.

Just in case Terry's shriek was too non-specific, Proudstar went for the intercom. He hoped Bobby would live long enough to say thank-you.

****

Emma Frost didn't know how long she'd been unconscious. She did know that Jubilee was probably in worse shape than she was; they'd ridden a dizzying roller-coaster ride of twists and turns through pitch blackness, and just when Emma thought she'd never be able to stand upright again, they'd been dumped unceremoniously on ice-cold, solid rock. Emma had instinctively shifted to her diamond form to absorb the blow, and Jubilee had landed on top of her. Emma could only surmise that had been less than comfy.

"Sorry," she murmured as she tried to pick herself up off the floor.

"No big," Jubilee replied. Her every inch of exposed skin was scraped and bruised. She rolled a couple of feet away from Emma and bumped into the wall.

They were in a passageway-- small, confined, with only a dim illuminating glow that didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular. There was a torch on the wall above Jubilee; with supreme effort, the girl rose to her feet and-- PAF!

"Let there be light," she said.

She gave Emma a hand up. The older woman groaned, stretched her muscles-- then nodded in grim satisfaction. "We made it."

"I guess. Heck of a trip. How'd Shaw and Magneto manage that, 'cause--"

Emma looked away. "Selene. She was Black Queen at that time."

"You mean the creepy reality-altering immortal life-essence vampire chick?"

"The same. The combination of her power and Magneto's could have created many unique things, including this chamber." Emma hissed. "They told that *witch* and not *me.*"

"Maybe they sensed the good in you or something," said Jubes. "Bad guys *hate* that."

Emma laughed. "Please. Even my fellow X-Men don't sense the good in me, and we've saved the world together."

"You said it, not me. I was being polite that time."

"It's wasted on me, dear." Emma looked around. "However, it does possess an element of truth: They knew I would never agree to this. The danger to my students--"

Now it was Jubes' turn to laugh. "C'mon, Emma! You endanger your students all the *time*! You just pull that chestnut out an' use it when you want to--"

"NOT LIKE THIS!" Emma whirled on her. "*This* is different. This is the end of the world."

"There's always an End of the World!" Jubilee shot back. "If I had a nickel for every time me an' Wolvie saved the world, I'd be watching 60-inch plasma screen in the Mansion, 'kay? Don't get all huffy with me just 'cause your old friends--"

"Yours too, dear. The only way I can imagine all three cooperating is if someone manipulated them, probably Tessa. If she knew, Xavier would have known, either before the fact or after his return. We *all* should have seen this coming. We had bits of the puzzle-- something dangerous, a threat from beyond time-- but none of us put it together. As you say, there's always an End of the World lurking. We never took *this* one seriously enough. We never even realized what it was until it was at hand."

"Well, I'd say it's serious now." Jubilee put hands on her hips. "So, where to?"

"Straight down the--"

Emma gasped. According to the information from Shaw, they should have been in a straight tunnel. But *two* branches now confronted them, one to the left and another to the right. A gift from Selene? If the right path led to the thing Emma sought, where did the wrong one lead? Solid rock? She had *no idea* which to choose...

Jubilee stepped forward and settled the problem in her inimitable fashion. "Eenie, meenie, miney, moe..."

****

Bobby hadn't realized how much he missed Jean Grey until he saw her in his mind. Her, and his old rival Alex, too-- charging to the rescue of one of the Stepford Cuckoos, who was being held captive by... a Madrox duplicate? What the hell? (* for details, see eXcalibur #5)

Madrox had a knife at the kid's throat, and while Bobby watched, he drew it across-- and then terrible things happened. Bobby shuddered.

"This isn't my dream," he said aloud.

"No, sorry," said a new voice. "This is one of mine."

Another Cuckoo stepped out of the blackness on the edge of his mind-- probably Phoebe, the one from Bobby's reality. He knew that things were very wrong, because there wasn't even a hint of her superior little smirk in evidence. She looked terrible.

"*This* is your dream," Phoebe said, "isn't it?"

The landscape changed. They were in the Mansion, along with Bobby's future self and an aged Professor Charles Xavier. The other Iceman was pacing back and forth. He was worried about... something. This was the dream Bobby had been tormented with every night. (* from Uncanny #3 on) This was the middle part he was still trying to remember.

While he watched, the door swung open. Future-Bobby looked up. Jubilation Lee hurried in, along with a haggard-looking Wolverine.

"Look who I brought," Jubilee said, triumphant.

His future self all but embraced her. "That's great, Jubes. We were so worried. I mean-- about Logan."

The feral man arched an eyebrow. "I guess you're puttin' out those pheromones for *my* sake too, huh, Drake?"

"Wolvie...!" Jubes said, turning to admonish him.

"Got no patience fer your game today," Wolverine said. "He took 'Ro. That damn shadow took Ororo!"

SNIKT. The famous claws came out, and Logan went a little berserk. It was Bobby who finally cooled him down-- literally. With ice shackles binding his hands and feet, Bobby was able to get in the smaller man's face:

"Logan! LOGAN! That's enough! Go find Creed!"

Wolverine snarled. "I *especially* ain't in the mood for Creed."

"I don't give a damn! We need trackers! Maybe the two of you together can bring Storm back."

He got through to Logan. At first it didn't appear he would. Released from his bonds, Wolverine turned.

"Cuttin' us to pieces, one at a time... be a mercy t' kill us at this point..."

"Bring Warpath, too," Iceman said to his back.

"Whatever."

Jubilee watched him until he was gone. "He's given up. I *never* thought he'd give up."

"We're not through yet." Bobby turned to his mentor. "Are we, Professor?"

But the man who'd raised him better than his father just frowned, folded his hands, and said nothing. The image froze.

Phoebe reappeared. "If you were wondering, Mr. Drake, that's the whole dream. That's the last significant thing that happens... before this."

The scene shifted to fire and death. Scott cradling Emma's broken body. Wolverine and Sabretooth, burned to ashes. Warpath and Savant with their hands locked around each other's throats. Alex and Lorna, murdered by each other's powers. Gambit and Bishop dead a little distance away. (* as seen in #3)

The shadow beckons. Bobby Drake kisses Jubilee goodbye. As she runs away, he goes on the attack-- an attack like his younger self has never seen, the fury of the natural world mercilessly unleashed on their nemesis.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Phoebe said. "Bet you didn't know just water could do all that."

"Why is this happening?" Bobby asked. "What am I supposed to do?"

The glowing eyes pierced his. "It's not about what you're *supposed* to do, Mr. Drake. It's about what you *did*."

Bobby shook his head. "I don't understand."

"These visions aren't quite precognitive. Not *quite*."

"Then what are they?" he asked, at a loss.

"Don't you know?" Phoebe smiled. "They're the original history. This is what was going to happen... before the Scarlet Witch."

Bobby had to sit down. There were no chairs available in his subconscious, so he made one out of ice. "So all of this... isn't real?"

"Oh, no. No, *everything's* real... somewhen. It's just a matter of what is real to you now." Phoebe paced in front of him. "The Professor was counting on that."

"You know about the Professor?"

"Oh, yes. Better than you. I can tell you the problem, Mr. Drake... but only you can decide what to do about it."

He frowned. "Tell, then."

Phoebe regarded him. Slowly, she said, "Picture yourself on a fence. All these days you've been dreaming, you've been balanced perfectly on top of the fence. Frankly, I've been holding you up there."

"Thanks?" Bobby said, at a loss.

"The events you saw can lead to the death of the Slayer. It's *possible*. There is a chance that in facing him alone, embracing your power, that's how you beat him. But it's not a very good chance. It's not *likely.*"

"What is likely?"

*Now* he got the smirk. "That it's a paradox. That you fall on the other side of the fence. That in giving everything to beat the Slayer... you help bring this about."

She gestured at the scene, the flames, the bodies of his friends. Bobby couldn't take it all in at once. He wanted to puke.

"No," he said, but on some level knew it was true.

****

"This reminds me of a ghost story," Jubilee said. "Did you ever hear the one about the two campers who are in the woods, and--"

"They're *all* about two campers in the woods," Emma said. "Do try and concentrate, dear."

Jubilee waved their torch. They must have gone about half a mile-- half the length of this tunnel, Emma claimed, and still no idea whether they'd picked the right one. *Nothing* but narrow walls and solid rock to be seen.

"We should have each taken a different branch," Emma said.

"Sure, then one of us would be *sure* to get entombed!"

"Only if it was you, dear. In my diamond form, I probably would have survived."

Jubilee glared at her. "Y'know all those public-service messages about how our teachers are our heroes? Someday I wanna meet the producer of those for *five minutes*..."

Emma clamped a hand over her mouth. Jubilee kept talking anyway. The White Queen gestured for silence.

"Did you hear that?"

"No."

"It was a faint, rumbling noise."

"It was probably just my stomach. Why's this tunnel got to be so long, anyway?"

Emma shrugged. "I imagine that's the proper length to accommodate what's on the end of it."

"Oh yeah-- that thing you still haven't told me what is."

Emma opened her mouth, maybe to finally explain everything to Jubilee and be totally forthcoming with her old pupil. That would have been nice. It was about as likely as the Blob joining Weight Watchers, but it was *possible*.

Unfortunately, Jubilee never found out, because at that moment the wall opened up, just like the panel had before. This time, Jubes didn't think it was part of the plan. A shadowy hand reached out to snag Emma's arm and tossed her through the hole, into the empty corridor running parallel to them.

"Hey!" Jubilee said. PAF! She dispelled some of the shadow with fireworks. But it was *everywhere*..."

"Jubilation! No!" Emma cried. She lunged toward the rapidly-closing hole, but then the tunnel around her started collapsing. A big chunk of rock hit the back of her head, and she went down.

"NO!" Jubilee blasted away at the now-solid wall between them, but she couldn't even scorch it. She looked around in confusion...

BLINK. Something-- a shadowy form-- appeared in front of her. Jubilee took a step back.

"Dude," she said. "You really *do* blink. It's lame to steal powers."

--Sorry,-- said the Slayer. --I borrow from all the mutants I touch. Clarice Ferguson is part of me, now.--

"She's WHAT?" Jubilee held out her sparkling hands. "You sleazoid psycho FREAK! Give her back right NOW, or I'll--"

--You'll do nothing, Jubilation Lee. You cannot hurt me.--

"Watch me," she said. PAF! The thing shrank from her fireworks. "Don't like light, do ya? I got lotsa light. I got light you've never *seen*. You're not so tough."

--I am only what I've become. What you made me.--

"You... me?" Jubilee frowned. Her hands dropped a bit. "What're you talking about?"

--That's why I told them not to hurt you, Jubilation. That's why you won't kill me now. I need you... I wish for you to join us. And you will. I would not exist if not for you, Jubilation Lee. You and Bobby Drake. Without the two of you, I am nothing in this timeline.--

Jubilee swallowed hard. "You... you mean I'm like your mother? An' Bobby's your dad? Gross!"

She felt the shadow laugh. --Not exactly. But in a certain temporally distorted, non-literal sense... perhaps.--

"Can I call you Dylan, then? 'Cuz I've always liked the name Dylan, an'-- aw, what'm I SAYING?! Stay back!"

She PAFFED it again. The shadow flinched, but returned. A face almost seemed to appear in the void... a face much like hers.

--I don't want to fight you, Jubilee.--

"Then you'll have to catch me.”

KA-BOOM! She detonated the biggest firework she could manage, right in its face. The shadows dispersed, and Jubilee ran through where they had been. She didn't know what else to do. Maybe if she could get to the end of the corridor, find whatever Emma was looking for, *maybe* she had a chance.

She kept running. Her stomach hurt. Her chest hurt. Her legs and arms burned. She could hardly breathe. She wasn't really getting away, either. She could feel the shadow on the edge of her mind, quietly mocking. It was waiting for her to get tired. It would have a while to wait.

Half a mile. An Olympic runner could do that in less than two minutes. Jubilation Lee wasn't *that* fast, but she was in top physical condition and a well-trained, gifted athlete. It seemed like no time at all until she hit the dead end.

“WHAT?” she cried, hands sweeping the wall for another secret passage. “NO! We went the wrong way! Awww, nononononononono... it's...”

--Over,-- said the Slayer's voice.

Jubilee whirled. She was trapped like a rat, back against the wall, and here came the shadows all *over* the place. It kept advancing...

--This is the end, Jubilee,-- it said. --You should be part of me. It is only fitting. We are not meant to be enemies. Just... accept. Otherwise... I don't *want* to hurt you, but I will.--

Jubilee crouched low. Took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight: Cyclops an' Wolvie an' Jean an' Emma you could care less about... but you're sending *me* an engraved invitation to switch to your side?”

The shadow considered. --Yes.--

“Wow. That's... pretty cool, actually. Second-string *that*, Mr. High an' Mighty Leader...”

--Then you accept?--

Jubilee laughed. “Oh, *hell* no. Do I *look* so utterly lame? I'm an X-Man to the end, baby. Don't care what you *wanna* do. If you got a problem with the others, you got a problem with me.”

The Slayer actually hesitated. --I am honestly sorry to hear that.--

“Don't be. Gotta go sometime. What's important is making a *tres* cool exit.” Jubilee took a few steps forward. With eyes defiant and fireworks sparkling around her, she beckoned the Slayer.

“C'mon, you an' me. Come to Momma...”

****

What with their recent manpower shortage, the doorbell at the Xavier Mansion had to ring five times before Jean-Paul Beaubier answered it. When he did, he was relieved to see a slightly battered Scott Summers standing there. He was concerned *not* to see Blink. He was baffled to see Mystique. And when he saw Sabretooth...

“Don't,” said Cyclops, getting between them before Northstar unleashed a barrage of supersonic punches. “These are... our guests.”

“I... truly?"

Mystique grinned at him. “*Kills* you, doesn't it?”

“Take heed, Ms. Darkholme: It can also kill you, should you betray our hospitality.”

“Fair enough,” she said, and stepped inside. Sabretooth followed, growling at Northstar the whole way.

Scott took him aside. “I need you to find Bobby."

“Bobby's unconscious. Nearly comatose. He collapsed suddenly, after--”

Scott waved him off. “Tell me later. In that case, bring Warpath and Siryn and meet me in the situation room.”

Northstar nodded. “Done. I'll feel better with backup."

“That's not why. Have them bring their prisoners. Especially Savant.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You heard him,” said a new voice. All turned to see Bobby Drake leaning in the doorway, caught in a hellish-looking state somewhere between ice and human form. Phoebe was with him, and he was leaning heavily on her, too. Despite his condition, there was something in his eye-- like steel-- something Jean-Paul had never seen.

“Bring Savant,” Bobby said. “We've been treating him very badly, considering he nearly went insane trying to *save* us.”

Jean-Paul blinked. “*Comment?* I don't believe I understand--”

“I do. I understand lots of things, now. Only one thing I don't, Scott. Where'd Emma go?”

Their leader frowned. “She didn't--”

The Iceman lurched forward. “Yeah, I know what you said, Scott, and now I want the truth. Where is she?”

Scott looked from one of them to the other, and then past Jean-Paul's shoulder at Mystique, who was taking all this in with interest. He sighed.

“She's gone back to Massachusetts.”

“How do you know this?” Jean-Paul asked.

“Because Jubilee called me from a rest stop, not 25 miles outside of Boston. I sent Jubilee to keep an eye on her.”

Northstar scoffed. “To protect her, you mean! You... staged that fight (* in #4) for our benefit!”

“No,” Scott shook his head. “For the Slayer's benefit. I had to make Emma believe it, in case it got hold of her mind powers. Splitting the team bought each half some freedom of movement.”

“An' you still lost Clarice!” Sabretooth growled. “Some leader!”

“Shut up, Creed. You're wasting borrowed oxygen.” Scott fingered his glasses only briefly, then ignored the mercenary. “I trust Emma. She'll do what needs to be done.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby, “she will. And then she'll probably die.”

“Meaning...?”

Bobby was already on the way out. “Hold your briefing, Scott. I'll go after Emma. You might want to have something small ready to give her when she gets back. Like flowers. Or a yacht.”

Scott stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “If it's that dangerous, I'll--”

“I'm not asking, man,” said Bobby. He turned completely to ice, making Scott withdraw his hand. “Not this time. Where I'm going, none of you can follow.”

Then he was gone.

****

paf-paf-paf-PAF-PAFF-PAFF-*PAFF!* *POW!* *BLAM!* *BOOM!*

The shadows billowed all around Jubilation Lee despite her best efforts, circling like predators and fighting past her fireworks. The sensible part of Jubilee's mind wanted to be curled in a ball, shrieking her head off.

She ignored that part. She wasn't giving this two-bit sleazoid the satisfaction. She was an X-Man, and if she was going down, she would go down the right way. The way Wolvie would have done it. Kicking and scratching and spitting in its eye. She could feel the Slayer's mind, and it was almost enjoying her attitude, but that only made her angrier...

*paf-paf-paf-PAFF-PAFF-PAAAFF!*

Jubilee hadn't channeled so much energy in years. Sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes, tickled her nose, left her cold and clammy. Her heart was pounding. Her knees wobbled. She refused to give in. *Refused*.

*PAFF! BLAM! POW!!! KA-BOOOOOOM!!!*

That final burst of fireworks knocked Jubilee back against the wall. She saw stars, and felt her head to make certain it was still attached. The shadows had been momentarily scattered by the intensity of the blast, but now they reformed and inched closer...

--Impressive, Jubilation. You really are indefatigable.--

"Hey! *Major* faux pas, usin' words like that to a lady. Have you like no class whatsoever?"

The shadows appeared in the shape of a man, only inches away. --Last chance.--

Jubilee glared at him. "If you're askin' me to surrender, dorkus, you can forget it. I have not yet begun to paff!"

She raised her hands. The shadow rolled toward her. Jubilee summoned all her energy, stored it up 'till it hurt, ready to release it all in one mega deluxe-sized blast that would take out the whole passageway, and her, and maybe hurt the Slayer if she was lucky.

--STOP.--

Jubilee jumped at the voice in her mind. It sounded like...

Sure enough, Emma Frost was coming down the passageway, bruised and bloodied, with whatever costume she bothered to wear now in tatters, but very much alive. Jubilee had never seen that look on her face before: she'd observed her old teacher annoyed, infuriated, even murderous. But she'd never seen her quite so... serene.

"That girl is one of my children," Emma said. "You will not take her."

Jubilee perceived the mocking laughter coming out of the darkness. --Let's be realistic, Emma. Jean Grey couldn't stop me. You're nothing compared to her.--

"You will not take one of my girls," Emma repeated, seemingly oblivious. She took a step.

--Don't you understand, dear? You are the *last* person who can stand against me! All the little flaws and imperfections in you... your skills are weak and your mind is a paradise for me. You've *sustained* me, Emma Frost. You've been my greatest ally. Do you think I could have taken the Pryde girl so easily if you hadn't made her *despise* you? Or Jean-- she might have been your only chance, but you and your pointless fleshy intrigues have so distracted her that she cannot see straight.. I couldn't have done this without you, Emma. Thank you so much.--

The White Queen kept moving forward, repeating as a mantra: "This is one of my girls. You will not take one of my girls..."

The shadow seemed to darken. --You're boring me, Emma. Why don't you think about something else now? Your father, perhaps? Now that was a miserable old man. What he did to your brother... of course, that boy was a disappointment, now wasn't he? The world's better off with him dead. All his kind should die, don't you think?--

A muscle in Emma's jaw twitched, but otherwise her control didn't waver. "I am here to save the girl. I am *only* here to save the girl. Anything else you say is immaterial."

--I don't like to be ignored, Emma. I think I'll kill you for that. I think I'll have Scott kill you. I always do, you know. Every time. He's so easily turned against you. He loathes you as much as he loves you. You shattered his perfect little world. Don't you think he'd give everything to have that back? To have *her* back, the way she was? Don't you think he'd kill you in an instant? I know he would. I've seen him do it.--

Emma strode into the midst of the cloud. To Jubilee's shock, it parted around her, held at bay as effectively as by the younger woman's fireworks. She strode toward Jubilee, staring straight ahead, blue eyes unseeing.

--Damn you, Emma Frost! You cannot shut me out! You don't have it in you-- you are so full of hate!--

"No," Emma said, kneeling beside Jubilee. "I am not. You are completely insignificant to me. You are not worth hating."

The shadows broiled, threatened... and then abated. Amusement crept back into the thing's sense. --Well. Who'd have thought *you'd* be the one to figure it out? Full marks, Emma... but you can't shut me out forever.--

Emma shrugged. The Slayer seemed to make one, last effort... Jubilee felt the waves of raw anger sizzling off it... and then, abruptly, it disappeared.

Both women gasped, a weight gone from their shoulders. Then, to Jubilee's own surprise and Emma's shock, she hurled herself into the White Queen's arms and hugged her.

"That was like unbelievably awesome!”

Her teacher shrugged. “Elementary. I've used people's hate against them often enough to recognize his technique.”

“Yeah, but... *wow*, Emma! I didn't know you had it in you! I mean, sure, I knew you were cutting back on the villain thing, but to go totally cold turkey, that must have taken outrageous willpower! I'm so proud of... um, you..."

Jubilee abruptly realized who it was she was hugging. Emma arched an eyebrow and awkwardly divorced herself from the embrace. But she half-smiled, too.

"So... that's all it takes?" Jubilee asked, after a moment's rest. "That's all we gotta do to beat it? Think about other stuff?"

Emma scoffed. "No, dear. That's what it takes to keep it from possessing you momentarily. But the Slayer was right-- no one can resist it indefinitely, and once you are possessed, it gains all your powers. The more mutants it takes, the more of its own power it can access. When it has everyone on its list..."

She trailed off. Jubilee made a face.

"Yeah, then what?"

"It will not be good," Emma said, with a thin smile. "It will not be the slightest bit good for anyone. So we shall make certain it never gets there.”

“How?” Jubilee turned back to the wall. “It's a dead end.”

“Perhaps... or perhaps one only needs the proper key. We are dealing with people who knew me as well as I knew myself. Perhaps better. So, I wonder...”

Emma held out her hands and turned to diamond. Jubilee was confused. During the time she'd been with the Hellfire Club, Emma Frost hadn't had a diamond form. Whoever'd come up with this plan would have almost had to know the future...

Emma pushed against the wall... and Jubilee gasped. It melted away beneath her touch. A glowing portal remained in its wake, like a miniature star. Refracted through the diamond body of the White Queen, it might have been the most beautiful thing Jubilee had ever seen.

“What is it...?” she breathed.

“Miss Ferguson could have told you,” Emma said. She drew away from the portal and morphed back to human, accessing her telepathy. “I think... yes. I believe it really is. It's a portal. A nexus of Universes. I think this may be from whence my Cuckoos have drawn their newfound power. And I think I can operate it with my telepathy.”

Images flashed upon white. Faces, places, names, monuments. Living, dying, sleeping, kissing, killing. Everything Jubilee had ever seen, and a number of things she didn't recognize at all. She saw the mutant race destroyed, and she saw it conquer the world. She saw the Nazis win in World War II, the South win the Civil War, and another world where Western culture had never advanced beyond squabbling tribes. She saw *everything*... and then the thing she wanted most.

“WOLVIE!” she cried, almost racing into the portal when it displayed her friend. He was lying on the ground... unconscious, hurt, or worse... (* see X-Force #5)

Emma held her back. “Patience, Jubilee. This is but one Universe. We need to access four.”

“But-- he needs me-- you mean--”

Jubilee and Emma shared a look. The White Queen nodded.

“With this, what was once shattered can be made whole. It's time to bring the X-Men home.”

END

This arc of the “Uncanny X-Men: Eternity” series will conclude in “X-Men Eternity: The Crossroads,” a giant-size crossover between all 5 series, coming soon! A new “Uncanny” story will begin with issue #7.

Next Up: New X-Men #6: "Summers' End"