Ororo groaned in agony; too weak to cry out any more. With a grimace she folded over onto herself, cradling her abdomen as familiar razor sharp burning lanced her internal organs. Would it never end?
~The mark of rank in nature is capacity for pain…~
Ororo opened her bloodshot eyes, a wan smile touching her chapped lips. “Henry,” she whispered his name. “If that’s true, I must be a damn God.”
Her blue furred friend smiled gently in return. ~A Goddess amongst mortals.~ He assured her.
Ororo blinked, gasping against another onslaught of fire that raced through her. “It hurts,” she hissed in quiet agony.
~I know.~ His voice was full of tender concern. He maneuvered his large frame with grace and agility so that he slid into the bed beside her. He gently took her hand from her abdomen and placed it within his much larger one before bringing it over his heart. ~Better.~
Ororo let out a soft sigh of unexpected relief. Yes, it was. The pain was gone, and for what felt like the very first time in her life, she was able to breathe without constriction. She also noted that the ‘better‘ hadn‘t been a question, but rather a statement. Henry had known that his touch would help her. Henry knew things. She recalled his presence in the foyer of the institute the night they brought her to this place; this hell of hells. “What’s happening to me?”
~The complexities of your particular situation are not completely known to me, dearest wind-rider.~
She inhaled slowly, savoring the pain free breathing. “But you do know something,” she prodded.
His deep blue eyes wavered. ~Yes.~
“Then spit it out, Blue. I don’t expect you to have all the answers, I’d be happy with any. Just tell me what you do know.” Her eyes searched his.
~Shhh, you should conserve your strength. I can not keep the pain at bay forever.~
“I can handle the pain. It’s nothing compared to what I felt losing you.” She touched his face. “It’s the not knowing that’s so hard.”
He gave her a rueful smile. ~I always did believe you to be too stubborn for your own good.~ He looked so sad that she wanted to weep for him.
“Learned from the best.” She let her fingertips trail through the fur at the base of his neck, watching the strands melt through her fingers. Not sift, as normal hair or as even his fur should, but truly melt. She shook her head, lifting her troubled gaze to his. “What’s happening to me?”
Lilandra Neramani watched the monitors carefully, perplexed by the latest development. All of Ororo Munroe’s readings had leveled off. Her body temp was normal, O2 levels were well within range, her heart was beating steady and her brain waves were that of a person in REM sleep. She frowned, a single furrow marring the porcelain perfection of her forehead.
One long, well manicured fingertip tapped against the temperature readout as Lilandra traced the alarmingly high spikes; all of which resulted in another episode from Ororo. For them to have completely leveled off was unacceptable. She peered through the glass into the room below.
Ororo sat in the center of her bed, legs crossed lotus style, her hands limp at her sides and her eyes staring blankly straight ahead. Meditation? Lilandra reached into her cubby and pulled out her clip board. She flipped through several marked pages, scanning quickly as she did. Nowhere in her papers was it noted that Ororo performed meditation rituals.
It was highly unlikely to cause any complications, and perhaps could even be helpful, but Lilandra despised unknowns. Too much depended on the woman in the room downstairs. An unexpected find on their part, Lilandra couldn’t help but think how blessed the Shi’ar were to have stumbled upon SHIELD and their files. It was as if destiny had manifested herself and shown them the way to achieve their dream.
The resurrection of the Phoenix God was imminent. Just the idea made Lilandra’s pulse quicken. They were so close…and Ororo Munroe was the key.
~When you cry, it rains. When you are angry thunder echoes your mood, and when you grieve the very Earth grieves with you.~
“Yes.” Ororo nodded. “So, what of it?”
Henry smiled indulgently. ~Did it ever occur to you that perhaps this link you share with the planet runs both ways?~
“I’m not sure I understand.”
~If the Earth weeps when you weep, and rages when you rage, and aches when you ache…~ He let his sentence trail off.
Ororo’s face reflected puzzled thinking. “Are you saying that the pain I feel now isn’t my own?”
He gave her his patented ‘ah-ha’ look.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand, trying to grasp what Henry was suggesting. “So this horrible pain that I‘m feeling… is the planet’s pain?” He made no response, but stared at her patiently. “Alright, even if I accept that to be true, there are still a lot of other questions. What about the markings? The funny language?”
~The markings are glyphs.~
“Glyphs.” Ororo repeated, her voice muted in thought. “Uhn-huh.”
~The language you speak so eloquently is unknown on Earth by most people. It is long believed to be the first language in the Universe. The language of the creator.~
“Well, aren’t I impressive,“ she tried to joke, but neither laughed. She continued after a short, contemplative pause, “I’ve heard the word Shee-ar a lot lately. What is that?”
~The Shi’ar, at best, are a religious organization. At worst, they are a cult, capable of such diabolical things like kidnapping a beautiful woman and using her as a divining rod to locate their beloved Phoenix God.~
Ororo was startled. “Wait. The Phoenix God? Didn’t the Professor and Jean already deal with these robe wearing nut jobs?”
~Professor Xavier had run ins with Sebastian Shaw and his Hellfire Club. Another group of worshippers devoted to the Phoenix God. The Hellfire members were once a sect of the Shi’ar that defected. Instead of wishing to see the rebirth of the God, they believed that they could harness the Phoenix through a host and use the God’s power at their leisure.~
“Wasn’t Jean their host of choice?” Ororo asked, mulling over every detail that Hank was giving her.
~Indeed. Jean has power beyond any telepath on the planet, including Professor Xavier. If anyone could harness and host a power like the Phoenix it would be her.~ Henry stroked her cheek softly. ~You look tired.~
“Yeah, well, feeling like your insides are being carved out does that.” She cocked her head, regarding him. “If Jean could host it, then why come after me? I don’t understand.”
He smiled indulgently. ~Unlike the Hellfire members, the Shi’ar do not wish to harness the Phoenix. They want to see it reborn in all of it’s glory.~
“Ok, ok, so, the Shi’ar worship this Phoenix thingy and are waiting for it’s second coming or something?”
~Something like that.~
“I’m sorry, Henry, but I still don’t get what any of that has to do with me.”
Lilandra’s fingers moved rapidly over the computer keyboard, her strokes hard and sure. She’d run this program a hundred times already, and knew it inside and out. She changed equations, modified symbols and still something was missing.
She leaned back in her chair, frustration evident by the set of her jaw. She watched the spinning three-dimensional glyphs on the flat screen in front of her with calculating black eyes. The images were scans of the markings that had been appearing on Ororo with greater and greater frequency. Lilandra, having studied the Shi’ar texts extensively understood most of them to be nothing more than navigational directions, but even when laid out in order, they made absolutely no sense.
She shoved herself away from the computer, rising to her feet and pressing her hands into the small of her back. She paced the room, running the glyphs and spoken words through her head over and over again, trying to piece together what didn‘t fit. She’d tried every known set of coordinates related to Earth against the glyphs, and charted several maps, all of which led her in complete circles no matter what her starting point.
They were so very close and yet so far away. The Phoenix would bring about Universal utopia to its followers. It would rebuild the Universe to be perfection for them, and burn away what didn’t work. It would be beautiful. Perfect. Bliss.
She wanted to scream in frustration. She refrained from doing so, holding onto her dignity and her steadfast belief that she would see the Phoenix rise. All she needed was faith and patience.
Faith she had plenty of. Patience on the other hand, she was rapidly running out of. She pressed the intercom button to the room below. “Wake up, Storm. Your destiny is calling.”
Henry tilted his head, his face momentarily flashing a look of fierce anger that would have paused the Wolverine.
“Henry?”
~We do not have much time, I’m afraid.~
Ororo tried not to tense at the thought of him leaving her and the pain returning, but she did and he felt it. She flexed her fingers in his and already he felt less substantial. “Henry?”
~Hold on to me, Ororo. Just a little longer.~
“Alright.”
~The only things that I can tell you with any certainty is that the Phoenix God is legitimate, and by that I mean that such a creature exists. Whether it be a God or Alien Force is not for me to determine. This creature has been written about and talked about since before Earth existed. Supposedly it is the spark of creation, it is the force that ignited all life, and is said to be the fire that will ultimately consume it.~
“Wow. Nifty.”
~Isn’t it though?~ He teased back, knowing she needed some levity to help ease the burden he was laying on her. ~Eons ago, it is said that certain races all over the universe formed and alliance with the sole purpose of destroying the Phoenix, fearing it’s destructive capabilities.~
“Isn’t that always the way?” Ororo said sadly; sleepily. “Destroy what you don’t understand.”
~Unfortunately that is all too often the way, but we digress. I need you to stay with me for just a bit longer.~ He jostled her carefully.
“I’ll stay with you, Henry. I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”
He touched her cheek again, gentle regret in his eyes. ~I am not so selfish as to keep you from Logan. He would hunt me down I am certain, despite the mortal barrier between us.~
Ororo smiled dreamily at the mention of Logan. “He loves me.” She said softly. “Mia Soku.”
Henry nodded somberly. ~You make it hard not love you.~
“Hmmm…Pretty colors…”
Henry held her hand tighter, but she barely felt it. ~Listen, Ororo. Listen to me. Unable to stop the Phoenix, the members of the alliance were forced to imprison it.~
“Cage the bird…”
~Yes. In a manner. The Phoenix was surrounded and cocooned. The gravitational pull of the cocooned Phoenix drew in elements from all over the solar system. Together they formed a molten sphere, wherein this sphere the Phoenix beat like a heart. Trapped.~
Ororo shuddered. As a claustrophobe she couldn’t imagine a worse fate. “Poor Phoenix…”
Henry tilted her chin towards him. ~Ororo, this is important. The molten sphere turned into a planet. This planet.~
Ororo frowned. “The Phoenix is here?” She looked around, but only saw colors swirling and blending. She turned back to Henry, whose blue had begun to churn and smear. “Smush face,” she pinched his cheek.
~Storm. Snap out of it! Stay lucid.~ Henry demanded.
She blinked rapidly, his gentle features once more in focus. “Ok. I’m here.” She smiled reassuringly. “What do I do? What does this mean?”
Henry gripped her tighter, sensing their time running out. ~Ororo, listen, if the Phoenix is trapped deep inside the Earth, and the Earth is the cage, and you share a bond with the planet then you…~
Ororo’s eyes widened as revelation overtook her and she was overwhelmed with knowledge so vast and infinite it could not be solely hers.
In that split second Henry vanished, leaving her alone on her bed and bombarded by tearing pain. “Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!” Lightning shot from her eyes and mouth straight to the ceiling, scorching the tiles as Ororo’s entire body glowed with glyphs and markings.
Above, Lilandra smiled widely as she watched the display. It all made sense now…
Westchester, New York
Jean Grey punched her pillow before flopping back down on it. She couldn’t sleep. She was too worried about Storm and Logan. She rolled onto her side, pulling her knees up to her chest. She should have known something was wrong with Ororo. She should have sensed it.
She closed her eyes, hearing Ororo’s voice in her head. “Aeir d‘eai, aeriate nemieweih! Sliviette…N’yuni moto, mvua, mvua. Caedo liefhe.” Those were the words she had called out to Jean as she lay on the foyer floor in pain. At the time Jean had taken them for the ramblings of a fevered, distorted mind, but now, replaying them in her head, she was not so sure. There was something familiar about them.
Jean swore angrily, sitting up once again. It was like an itch in her brain, driving her nuts. She knew the words, but yet she didn’t. Before she could contemplate further, her bedroom door swung open.
“Get your suit, Marvel Girl. We’re heading out.” Cyclops stood in the doorway, illuminated by the hall light.
Jean swung her legs over the side of the bed. “We have news?”
Cyclops nodded. “Fury just called Xavier. We know where they’ve taken Storm.”
Jean flung her hand and her closet doors flung open simultaneously, her X-suit floated to her outstretched fingers. She nodded once, her red hair lifting from her shoulders as a flash of telekinetic flames danced in her eyes. “We’re taking her back.” It wasn’t a question. “Has anyone contacted Logan?”
Scott shook his head. “He didn’t bring a phone or a communicator. The Professor is trying in Cerebro now.”
“Good.” Jean lifted her arms, her nightclothes being removed telekinetically.
Scott turned his head to the side. “It’s hard to stay focused when you do that.”
Despite the gravity of the situation Jean warmed beneath his ruby eyed gaze. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jean slid her leather pants into place. “When we come home I’ll show you how fast I can take yours off.” She finished dressing.
“Let’s roll.” Scott took her hand in his, lacing their fingers.
The War Room was full of tense emotions when Jean and Scott entered. Shadowcat, Rogue, Iceman, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Dazzler and Warren all stood waiting. None of them had taken the seats at the table, all too restless and agitated to sit. Kitty chewed her nails anxiously while Rogue shuffled cards through her fingers and Peter and Bobby stood silently contemplative.
“Why are we still even here?” Alison demanded, her face a mask of barely controlled fury. “If we know where they took her, why aren’t we already gone?”
“We’re waiting for the Professor,” Cyclops stated. Jean admired the tone he used. Unflappable. Scott oozed confidence and authority. It was what made him a good leader.
“Fucking bullshit!” Ali swore.
“Easy, liebling.” Kurt placed his arm around her waist. “We are all anxious to be under way, but to go without a plan of attack would be foolish.”
Ali relaxed a bit in his embrace. “I know. I’m just…”
“We all are.” Kurt pressed his lips to her forehead.
The hydraulic doors parted with a low hiss, drawing everyone’s eyes to the door and the wheelchair bound man rolling towards them.
“X-Men,” Charles greeted.
“What’s the plan?”
“You are all headed to Montana. There you will extract Storm from the holding center that she is being detained at by a religious organization known as the Shi’ar.” Xavier’s eyes momentarily rested on Jean. “They are to be considered dangerous. Avoid violence if possible, but do not underestimate these people. According to General Fury they are technologically advanced and skilled fighters.”
“Why do they have Storm? Why isn’t Storm with Fury? SHIELD are the ones that took her.” Ali again.
“General Fury was simply following orders. By contacting me he has put not only his job, but perhaps his very life at risk.”
Ali rolled her eyes.
“Who are the Shi’ar?” Jean asked, sensing that the Professor was hesitating.
“Worshippers of the Phoenix,” was his only reply. It was more than enough. Jean took a step back.
“What do they want with Storm?” She asked, hating herself for the flash of panic she was feeling.
“I do not know.” Charles replied honestly.
“Who cares what they want?” Ali snapped. “All we need to know is that those fuckers have Storm.”
There were a few nods of agreement from the other team members.
“I say we worry about the hows and whys after we get Ororo back.” Peter added.
“I couldn’t agree more.” The Professor nodded. “You’ll find two sets of coordinates in the Blackbird computer.”
“Two?” Kitty asked.
Jean’s mouth tilted. “One set telling us where Storm is, and one set for the man who would hand us our butts if we made a move without him.”
“General Fury has given us the location, but he cannot removed the initial government restriction that we were placed under. Any action we take is in direct defiance of the United States government, do you understand?” Somber gray eyes scanned the room, asking each of them to weigh their options and the outcome of their actions. By going on this mission they were marking themselves as outlaws and all the consequences that came with it.
“We understand.” Cyclops said with determination, his mouth a thin line. “Let’s move!”
“Jean,” Charles called to her. “It may be better for you to stay here--”
“I’m going.” She shook her head, halting any further words.
He accepted her decision. “Good luck then, X-Men.”
Canada
Logan tilted his head to the side, his highly developed hearing picking up a faint, but familiar sound. One he hadn’t expected to hear, but was glad of it. He pulled his bike over to the side of the road, killing the engine. He lifted his eyes skyward and waited.
Sure enough the Blackbird soared into his line of sight, and slowed to hover above him, the eerie blue flames of their top secret engine flared bright against the sky. The cargo hatch opened to reveal Jean standing in the opening, her hair whipping about her head like a banner. “Going our way?”
Logan, who had been riding without sleep since he left the mansion had made significant progress in getting to Montana. He gave Jean a dark look. “’Bout damn time you caught up.”
She spread her fingers and his bike shook. “Well, some of us wait for a plan before flying off the handle.” She concentrated a bit more and was rewarded as both Harley and rider floated into the Blackbirds cargo area.
“Plans are for chumps.” Logan huffed, dropping the kickstand and righting the bike. Once satisfied that his Harley was secure he stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “So, what is this master plan you waited so patiently for?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of anger, as he followed Jean to the front of the jet and his usual seat.
“Kick ass and take names,” Alison answered. She looked downright relieved to see him. Obviously he wasn’t the only one worried about Ororo.
“Fuck the names,” he answered, clasping her briefly on the shoulder as he passed.
“Yeah,” Ali murmured in agreement. She turned to stare out the window. “Fuck the names.”
Ororo had always believed that she was special. Even when she was lost and alone, feasting out of back alley dumpsters, she had felt…different, unique, gifted. Had she known then what her gift truly was she doubted that she’d have wanted it. In fact, she sincerely doubted that she would have allowed herself to live to see her mutation manifest.
Never one for self doubt and second thoughts, she immediately wondered if it would have made a difference anyway. Fate had a nasty way of working its way around even the most stubborn obstacles.
She wished Henry was with her again. More than that she wished Logan was with her. She closed her eyes, her breathing shallow in an attempt to control the tremors wracking her body. He would talk her through this. He would tell her to suck it up and fight. She was an X-Man, it’s what they did. He wouldn’t let her fail herself…and she wouldn’t fail him.
She grit her teeth against another inner assault, refusing to break beneath the horrific burning. She arched off of her bed, sweat pouring from her pores, soaking her clothes. “Uhnnnn.” She bit back a scream.
“Poor, poor, girl.” Lilandra stood over her. “It will all be over soon.” She lifted a long blade, it’s silver sheen reflecting Ororo’s drawn face. Lilandra turned away, placing the knife in the large pocket of her robe. “Bring her.”
Ororo felt any hopes she had fading with each dull thud of her heart. She could feel it acutely now, the pain, and knew the sickening feelings for what they were. She almost laughed it was so farfetched. She was feeling what the planet was feeling as a very pissed off entity was trying desperately to claw it’s way out from it’s celestial prison.
She screamed hoarsely as she felt another rake of talon against her abdomen. She stumbled back against the man holding her upright as Lilandra reached for her. The tall ethereally beautiful woman lifted Ororo’s sweat soaked dressing gown, pointing at the crimson lines appearing in crisscross fashion against Ororo’s smooth skin.
“See how the Phoenix God struggles to be free! She knows we are here, and that we are her liberators!” Lilandra announced joyously. “We must get her to the temple!”
Inside the Shi’ar church Lilandra raised her hand to quiet the cheers of the people around her as they made their way to the front of the room. Lilandra wore a red and gold velvet robe and elaborate gold headdress adorned with feathers. The members present, also cloaked in robes, were the elite few designated by the Majestrix to bear witness to the rebirth of the Phoenix God. She bestowed upon them a gentle smile as she passed.
“It is our job as Phoenix’s devout follower to see that she is reborn. To give her the freedom she so desperately seeks. A freedom that will enable her to create our blessed utopia. To breathe her purification and cleanse us all!” Lilandra exclaimed from stage in the front of the ensemble.
Another rousing round of cheers echoed throughout the church.
“This is our destiny! This is our right as the Shi’ar! We are the ones to provide deliverance for the Phoenix, and my friends, my brethren,” Lilandra spread her arms as if to encompass the whole of them. “I have been shown the way.” She nodded towards D’Kal and the newly christened D’Kain.
Both men grabbed Ororo’s arms, leading her towards a white cloth covered table with candles burning around it.
“No!” Ororo struggled in vain, her attempts too weak to make any difference as she was pinned effortlessly to the table. One man at her head holding her arms down, the other at her feet, pinning her legs. “No!” She arched and kicked, but to no avail.
Lilandra lifted the long blade from within the confines of her cloak.
Ororo’s eyes widened in horror. She tossed her head back and forth. “No! It will destroy you all! You don‘t understand!”
Lilandra’s face contorted in anger. “Blasphemer!” Immediately the anger was replaced by a look of practiced serenity. “But I do not blame you for your fear and confusion, child. Confused and misguided by the world you live in it is no surprise that you know not what you are and your place in the great design.”
Ororo concentrated, her blue eyes fading white. “I am Storm!” she shouted. “I know who, and what I am! You seem to have forgotten!”
The church doors slammed open, buffeted by raging winds. However, as quickly as the swirling gale appeared, it dissipated. Far too weak from her bouts of pain and sleeplessness Ororo couldn’t maintain the winds.
She felt overwhelmed, and she trembled with exhaustion.
Lilandra mistook it for fear.
“Easy, dear. Do not be afraid. Your sacrifice is for the greater good.”
“Fuck you,” Ororo whispered, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye.
Lilandra clamped her lips together to prevent from disgracing herself in front of the other Shi’ar members. She moved to stand beside the altar so that she faced her congregation. “This woman is a mutant.” Lilandra touched Ororo’s forehead gently. “The next stage in human evolution. A leap forward granted by the Phoenix. Throughout this planet’s history there are events that no one can explain. Creatures that defy logic. We know the answer to these supposed leaps, because we are the chosen ones. We know that it has been and always will be through the Phoenix that life is created, and it is through her that we will find ultimate peace and happiness.”
She lifted Ororo’s dressing gown again. She ran her fingertips over the crimson ridges, cooing softly; almost crooning. “Along with being a mutant, this child of the Phoenix is cursed. She is cursed because she has been simultaneously the lock and key holding the Phoenix prisoner!”
Gasps and startled breaths filtered through the mass of people. They pressed forward, all wanting a better look at the person responsible for the Phoenix’s imprisonment.
Ororo squirmed. “You’re crazy, lady.”
“The time has come to see our dreams realized!” Lilandra continued, ignoring Ororo. She laid the curve of the ceremonial blade against Ororo’s navel. Lilandra stared deep into Ororo’s eyes, her own gaze almost tender. “To free the Phoenix, we must first remove the cage!” The blade plunged deep.
Logan cracked his knuckles.
“Could you not do that?” Kitty asked.
He snarled.
“Oookay.” She sat back, eyeing him warily.
Logan shifted, looking out the window, down towards the seemingly endless tree line. “How close are we?” he demanded.
Scott tossed him a look over his shoulder. “About three minutes out.” Cyclops banked right, suggesting that the team prepare to engage.
Logan sat a bit straighter. It would be the longest three fucking minutes of his life.
As if sensing his thoughts Jean swiveled in her seat so that she faced him. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How you holding up?” she asked.
He gave her a look.
“Ok, dumb question.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t pull it off.
Logan leaned forward, his nose picking up the unease that Jean radiated. “Yer scared,” he stated.
Jean looked away. “Terrified.”
“Why? Because of the whole Phoenix thing?”
She nodded slowly.
“Talk to me, Red. I gotta know what we‘re going up against.”
She shifted, crossing her legs. After a shaky breath she began talking. “I don’t know anything about the Shi’ar, but I can tell you about the Hellfire Club. When the Hellfire club held me hostage, it was so that they could infuse me with this Phoenix God because they thought I could host it, or was the reincarnation of it, or something along those lines,” she waved her hand.
“I remember. You started sporting glowing wings and flamin’ hair after that.” He pointed out.
“Yes.” She acknowledged. “After the Phoenix touched me.” She stopped.
Logan reached across the aisle and gently squeezed her hand. “Go on.”
“Because of my powers, and my visions, I guess the Hellfire people figured I could handle it.” She closed her eyes. “But I couldn’t, Logan. I felt so small next to the Phoenix, and then it touched me and I was so very large. The Phoenix is real and so, very, very powerful.” She paused, reflecting quietly before continuing, “You know why humans can’t imagine infinity? Because we‘re not meant to. It‘s not an option for us. But for that brief moment when I came in contact with the Phoenix I could. I knew what limitless was, because I was suddenly without limits. Power. Unimaginable power. That’s what the Phoenix is.” She opened her eyes. “Power and now… desire. She tasted humanity on me, Logan. That’s why she wants to be let out. I know this, because I can feel it. Clawing away at my brain, I know it. Because of me, this cosmic force desires.”
“Jeannie, none of this is your fault.”
“Maybe not specifically,” she agreed. She gave the radar a quick glance before turning back to him. “But because of that momentary contact, Phoenix is hungry, Logan. She is infinitely hungry, and I can‘t think of anything strong enough to stop her if these people find a way to unleash her.”
Logan stilled, finally catching exactly what Jean was telling him.
Before they could continue Jean placed her hands against her head, and screeched loudly, her scream echoing in the confines of the Blackbird cabin, sounding eerily like the shriek of a falcon to Logan’s ears.
His blood went cold. “Jeannie?”
A tower of flame shot up from the ground, engulfing the plane.
“Jean!” Scott shouted, reaching for her.
“Sonofabitch!” Logan flinched away from the searing heat emanating off of the red head.
Fire ignited in the place of red hair and green eyes. Jean spread her arms and giant fire wings spread throughout the cabin. A terrible rending sound was heard as the wings of the Blackbird were blown clean off.
“Jean!” Scott bellowed, trying desperately to keep the nose of the spiraling jet in the air.
Ignoring Scott’s frantic cry and the screams of her team mates Jean tore the roof off of the Black bird, soaring into the sky with a deafening screech of rage.
Scott pressed the autopilot reflexively as he deftly unsnapped his harness. “Execute crash evacuation procedure, now!”
“Well, fuck.” Ali grabbed Kurt, who was prepared to teleport. Colossus, in steel form, had a grip on Kitty’s hand as she reached for Logan, grabbing his arm so she could phase them from the plummeting Blackbird.
Warren opened the main hatch, spreading his wings and gliding away from the falling aircraft. As practiced in the Danger Room he would be the team’s eye in the sky, making certain he knew where each one ended up.
Three puffs of smoke told him where Ali and Kurt had landed, followed closely by Bobby and Rogue on an ice slide. Colossus, Shadowcat and Wolverine fell towards the ground with all the speed and grace of a cannonball. Peter released Kitty’s hand halfway down, relying on his steel form to keep him from impact damage. Kitty and Logan fell straight through the ground, emerging a few moments later. Kitty sagged against a small tree, panting. Wolverine was frikkin’ heavy.
“Where’s Cyclops?” She asked after scanning her team mates.
Logan jerked his thumb skyward where Warren was swooping towards them with Scott dangling from his hands.
All nine X-Men watched in a type of morbid fascination as the Blackbird plowed into the tree line, then smashed into the ground with a thunderous crash sending dirt and rock skyward.
“So much for a ‘stealth’ approach,” Bobby muttered his skin changing from ice to fleshy pink.
“Shut up,” hissed Kitty.
“Hey, I’m just trying to lighten the moo-”
-SNIKT- “Lemme rephrase that for ya then; shut the fuck up. Now.”
“Shutting up.” Bobby made a button motion to his lips.
Warren and Cyclops landed a few feet away. Cyclops waved his arm. “Less than a quarter of a mile that way is the building.”
“Shi’ar,” Logan growled, recognizing the location from the dossier Xavier had given him. These were the fuckers that had taken ’Ro. He raised himself up a bit and scented the wind. What he caught on the breeze made him want to roar with rage. Blood. Ororo’s blood. With a savage snarl he set in motion without so much as a word, racing through the trees in the direction that Scott had pointed, and where the terrible smell of his love’s lifeblood was coming from.
“Wolverine!” Cyclops called. “God damn it!”
The Shi’ar temple was ablaze.
Logan knew long before he saw the hungry flames licking the walls of the building, or the toppled Phoenix statue. He could smell the charring of flesh, and feel the heat several hundred feet back. It didn’t prevent the surprise he felt upon seeing the raw carnage before him. In less than two minutes Jean had single handedly torched the entire compound.
Screams carried a wealth of pain as congregation members raced from the building and dropped to the ground in vain attempts to smother the flames that seemingly would not die, hungrily eating at their clothing and skin.
Briefly Jean’s words flashed through his mind. Infinitely hungry. He shook the words off and raced past the moaning, burning people without sparing a glance in their direction. Served the fuckers right. He took the front steps two at a time, running through the busted doors into the temple where he staggered to a halt in the aisle, his eyes locked on the horrific sight in front of him. Jean stood quietly at an altar of sorts, bent over a blood soaked table as quiet sobs wracked her body.
“Jeannie…?”
She whispered something incoherent, before lifting her tear and blood stained face. She stood slowly, revealing what she had covered.
“Oh, Jesus, no.” Logan did stumble then, his heart stopping in his chest. Ororo. Her name was a whispered prayer in his head and on his lips.
Jean shook her head mutely. “Those monsters…” she couldn‘t go on, her face crumpling.
Logan moved with painful slowness towards the altar and the woman lying there, broken and discarded.
“’Ro,” he whispered. Suddenly he had no lungs in which to breathe with, all of the oxygen was sucked from his body in a broken howl. He moved past Jean, reaching out shaking hands towards the still form on the table. “’Roro, baby…no.” He choked. He instinctively pressed his hands to the open wound on her stomach. The blood was warm, but her skin was cold.
“Logan.. she’s gone.” Jean whispered, her voice aching.
Ignoring her, he pulled Ororo up by her shoulders. He cradled the back of her head, pulling her close to his body. Her arms fell limply off the altar, dangling at her sides. Logan smoothed his hand over her face and along the short, short hairs on her head. “Look what they did to you.” His voice trembled. “They cut your beautiful hair.” He gave a choked cry, burying his face in her neck. “Wake up, ‘Ro. Please, wake up.”
Jean wrapped her arms around him and Ororo from behind, her cries more vocal than his. “She’s gone, Logan. She’s gone.”
Logan pressed Ororo closer, rocking. “No.”
“She has fulfilled her destiny.”
Both Logan and Jean lifted their tortured eyes towards the tall woman that emerged from seemingly out of thin air.
Logan’s lip curled, revealing fang, but he made no move, refusing to let go of Ororo. He recognized the scent of the woman, though he’d never met her. Her stench was all over Ororo.
Jean on the other hand had no such qualms. She released Logan and Ororo, stepping forward to face Lilandra.
“You crazed bitch,” Jean sneered..
Lilandra stiffened. “You, like so many others, have no concept of the greatness that we worship. But you will see. Now that the cage has been unlocked, the Phoenix shall return and light the Universe in divine light and purification.”
Jean’s harsh laugh caused the hairs on Logan’s neck to stand on end. He flicked a glance towards Lilandra and felt a flare of satisfaction at the look of unease on her face.
Jean moved from behind the altar, strands of her red and orange hair lifting and floating about her head like a halo. “Your precious Phoenix God.” She gestured towards the elaborate tapestries on the walls. “You wouldn’t know her even if you were face to face.”
Lilandra lifted her chin. “I’ll have you know that I share a divine connection with the Phoenix. It is in my lineage.”
“Wrong!” Jean snapped. “It was in her lineage,” she pointed towards Ororo’s limp form, still cradled in Logan’s arms. “You have no idea what you’ve done! The balance you’ve broken!” Jean’s composure faltered. “The friend you’ve taken!”
Lilandra appeared unaffected by Jean’s tirade.
Jean glared. “But you will understand. If it’s the last thing I do, I will help you understand what it is to lose.”
Logan felt the ground tremble. “Red?”
Jean spared him a glance. “It’s not me.”
Lilandra grinned. “She is coming! The Phoenix is coming!”
The walls began to crumble.
“Logan!” Jean called. “Time to move!”
Already in motion, Logan swung the lifeless Ororo up into his arms, running towards the doors. He was knocked to the ground as another huge fireball erupted into the sky. Logan rolled to a semi seated position, hefting Ororo against his shoulder. “JEAN!” He bellowed.
The fireball spread out into a much larger version of Jean’s familiar firebird. From the center of the impressive lightshow came a voice that any one that heard it would ever forget.
“I am fire made flesh! Life incarnate! The beating heart of this planet, and I hunger!”
Jean, tossed on the ground not far from Logan, lifted her head. “Oh, No…”
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AN: Ok, for everyone that thought Ororo was the Phoenix...sorry, even that delightful twist was too predictable for me. ;) More soon. And yes, she really is dead.
