Chapter One: Wolverine
Mutation: it is the key to our evolution. It has enabled us to evolve from a single-celled organism into the dominant species on the planet. This process is slow, and normally taking thousands and thousands of years. But every few hundred millennia, evolution leaps forward.
Many years past
The dry wind kicked up across the plain, swaying the tall grass under it so the long blades danced like the sea. Clouds swirled in the darkening sky, bringing forth the sudden chill of a coming storm. Zebra and wildebeest took immediate flight, shuddering in the awe of it. The ground trembled beneath their might, even as the humans sharing their wild rushed for the cover of their village.
But a lone girl stopped, turning dark eyes to the angry skies. Her smile was immediate and dazzling, welcoming the tempest as surely as the others fled. Alone at the edge of the savannah, Africa’s daughter waited with bated breath. She wanted to see it, to feel it rush over her. Power and grace, danger and life, it all rained down from the heavens.
They called for her to come inside, out of the storm. She ignored them. How could they not feel it? Singing in her veins, the surge and rush of power consumed her. It was different this time, stronger and undeniable. As with every storm before it, and likely after, she would wait until that first shocking bolt sliced through the air and into the weary ground.
Everyone needed this storm. The drought was slowly, achingly destroying the human invaders to this unkempt wild. She waited, waited. It would come soon, to reach out, to bless her.
A roll of thunder clenched her heart, but not with fear. Awestruck, Ororo turned her gaze to the sky, even as the clouds hurled against one another, grappling for dominance. Her hands were tingling, the unusual sensation creeping like ice up the length of her arm. The call slid into a scream, even as her head pounded with the force of the thunder.
Awe turned swiftly to pain and she buckled under it. On her knees, face lifted to the skies in offering, she felt her eyes sting. What was happening? Why…
The sky rumbled again, shaking the very earth around her. It welcomed the girl as she shook with the almighty pain inside her. Something was happening, erupting from a part of her she hadn’t known existed until this moment. Radi na Weupe echoed in her soul, flashed brilliant light behind agonized eyes.
Then, it burst forth. She released it all as that first, white-hot bolt of lightning cracked the skies. The rain pelted dry earth, but winds swirled and twisted around the kneeling child. In moments, it lifted her into the air, praising the tiny girl as their mistress.
Lightning tore through her body, and oh, the burn was lovely. Her flesh welcomed it, reveled in the booming thunder and ice-cold rain. Turning, pulling the winds with her, she rode the currents until the earth was soaked with her delight. She controlled it! This was her gift, a prize from the homeland she loved with her every breath.
Far below, the villagers rejoiced, crying into the winds in broken adoration.
“Windrider! Windrider! Windrider!”
She laughed, brought forth more power, and fell into the might of the elements.
~**~
The not too distant future
“They’re going to keep playing it.”
“Over and over again. Jesus.”
Ororo Munroe gave the massive television a disgusted sigh, taking the remote control to jack up the volume several notches. Scott Summers shooed a few of the disgruntled children away from the Rec Room, where they were delving into the day’s current mutant events.
Doctor Jean Grey was on the screen, a flashing “Upset on Capitol Hill” along the bottom of the image. She was demanding Senator Kelly show her this list of known mutants as he railed against one that could walk through walls.
It wasn’t something young Katherine Pryde needed to see.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was home to no less than fifty mutants. Most of that number were children, coming to the expansive mansion for training and education. Some came from loving, understanding parents, but many were runaways, terrified of their changing bodies. Or cast out by frightened mothers or fathers.
Ororo and Scott were just two of the teachers attached to the school. They came as students first, developing devastating mutations under the gentle tutelage of Charles Xavier. Now, they were the teachers, mentors to a group of children the world hated and feared.
Classes ended just an hour ago, leaving Scott and Ororo time to catch the evening news before they prepared dinner. Charles and Jean “ Scott’s fiancée “ were due back from Washington later in the evening. Ororo didn’t want to think about the conference where Jean spoke so heatedly to a United States Senator.
She really did not want to dwell on the open, irritated display of telekinetic powers by her dear friend in front of the entire country.
Again, the papers flew from the Senator’s hands and into Jean’s. People gasped, some screamed, and Jean only looked stoically at the assemblage. Of all the adults at Xavier’s School, only Jean was a known mutant. Her display of power hinted a loss of control. Those that knew her well could see the annoyance and anger in her eyes, even as her cool tone rang through the microphone attached to the podium.
He’d baited her, Ororo thought with venom. Kelly knew of his opponent’s powers and goaded the beautiful doctor into a display that was caught on press cameras. Scott swore under his breath as the news crew presenting their rather juicy gossip rewound and replayed the image.
“Another great day for mutants everywhere,” Ororo sighed. She switched the television off, shaking her head.
“Kelly,” Scott said heatedly as he turned to her. “That guy’s just a peach.”
“Oh, yes,” Ororo agreed. “Just lovely. I wonder if he bites the heads off small children.”
Knowing her comment would humor him, she delighted in seeing Scott’s rigid posture relax a fraction. He chuckled, looking at her from behind ruby-quartz lenses. His brows were high, lips twisted into a sardonic grin. With his eyes covered, anyone who wanted to be close to their resident Cyclops had to learn to read the rest of his face.
Ororo happened to be an expert.
“Thanks.” He offered as they stood.
“Anytime.” Tossing him her most winsome smile, Ororo headed for the kitchen.
Several children waved, some darted back into their books, pretending they hadn’t been listening to every word. Others “ namely Jubilation Lee and Kitty Pryde “ stared outright. Ororo paused, giving them a smile that said everything would be all right. They returned the gesture, somewhat strained, and went back to their nail polishing.
Before she reached the kitchen, the mansion’s main line rang. Someone picked up a receiver down the hall, a bored “Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Artie speaking” echoing down the long corridor.
“The Professor can’t be pleased.” Scott was saying as they entered the kitchen. “He warned her about Kelly.”
“I know,” his companion nodded as she ducked into a cupboard. “And she behaved admirably. I would fried him right inside that Brooks Brothers suit.”
Scott’s lanky form leaned against the counter as she came out of the cupboard. There was a soft, understanding smile on his face, the upturned corner speaking volumes of repressed amusement.
Ororo had a mile-wide soft spot for Scott Summers. It wasn’t his good looks, which were hard for any woman with a pulse to resist. His wavy dark hair, generous mouth, and sculpted physique could get a girl’s blood pumping. But Ororo adored his good nature, the understated humor, and that amazing heart. Though he loved Jean almost to distraction, he always had five minutes to hang out with her.
He’d never let her feel like the unwanted third wheel.
When Charles first came for her, having learned of her powerful mutation, Ororo fought. She hadn’t wanted to come back to New York, the place of her birth. The villagers worshipped her as a goddess, who was this bald old man to demote her?
She buckled, though, under his challenge to become more and when she arrived at the beautiful mansion, he placed her into Scott and Jean’s capable hands. They showed her that beauty could be found everywhere, even if it was so different from her African home.
Once Scott taught her to ride one of the horses kept in the stable, she was sunk. Her life became knowledge, of her mutation, of the world. Charles thrust open the doors to a whole new life, then nudged her toward college where she learned even more. Educated and dedicated, she was the first to decide to stay on with him.
To become one of the mutant fighters known to the children as the X-Men.
Years later, Ororo was at home in the sprawling mountains. She had her own horse, a powerful stallion she named Radi in honor of the storms of her homeland. He was a gift, she thought fondly, from her family upon completing her teacher’s certifications.
“Only a woman would demean a man because of a suit.” Scott teased as she faced him.
“Only a man could say something like that. Jackass.”
Scott laughed, the two of them looking up when a young student by the name of Artie popped into the room. He handed Storm a cordless receiver, glancing at Cyclops long enough to reflect the hero-worship in his eyes.
“It’s the Professor,” he said quietly. “Wants to talk to you.”
“Thanks, Art,” Scott replied while Ororo put the phone to her ear.
The boy flushed and bolted from the room under his idol’s easy gratitude. Ororo rolled her eyes toward heaven. Boys.
“Charles?” She asked into the receiver.
“Ororo,” he replied tersely. “Get Scott and leave the children in Peter’s care. I need you to do something for me.”
Alerted by her startled expression, Scott immediately straightened, his smile fading.
“What is it?”
“Something is happening in Canada. I will send the coordinates to the jet momentarily.”
Shocked at the order, Ororo was already moving, shouting for their eldest student. Charles rarely gave such orders to his X-Men and never without the aid of Cerebro.
“Charles?”
“Erik was here,” was the clipped explanation. “I lifted something from his mind. Jean and I will land in seconds, but I need the jet prepared. Once I have consulted with Cerebro, I will give you further orders.”
Swallowing the tension she felt creep into her spine, she pulled up short before the mutant codenamed Colossus.
“Yes, Charles. We’ll get underway now.”
She switched the phone off, handing it to Peter Rasputin. “Storm?”
“Order pizza, get the children fed and readied for bed. You’re in charge. Don’t kill anyone. Don’t burn down the mansion. The Professor and Dr. Grey will be here soon.”
To his credit, Colossus looked neither shocked nor startled. He nodded immediately. “No problem.”
With that, she grabbed Scott’s arm and dragged him toward the lower levels.
“It’s Erik,” Ororo whispered as the elevator doors closed. “He’s up to something.”
Scott winced, exhaled. “Oh, great.”
~**~
The Blackbird soared over the clouds even as dusk came sliding through the sky. It wasn’t so much a fighter jet as a highly maneuverable airplane. Designed by Charles Xavier’s former student, an inventor by trade, the jet was an invaluable tool for the X-Men.
Technologically advanced to a fault, the jet could reach amazing speeds while maintaining complete control. Both Storm and Cyclops were certified to fly it, but Scott’s landings needed help. She insisted he get practical experience, so she co-piloted while speaking with Charles through the mental link all X-Men shared.
When his gentle, fatherly presence left her mind, Ororo opened her eyes. Scott had donned his visor, which he used to control the intensity and breadth of the optic beams he was codenamed for. Though the resulting blindness was a problem during his first months, Charles’ inventive friend discovered a way to control the beams.
Ruby-quartz. Specially designed eyewear kept Cyclops from putting holes in important things “ people or mountains “ and allowed him to see through a red haze. The visor he used for battle purposes bore a dial that widened or shortened what the quartz allowed through. It was marvelous, she thought remembering the day Scott was no longer forced to keep his eyes closed.
“What did he say?”
“From what he gathered, Magneto is after a specific mutant traveling with a companion in northern Canada,” she reported quickly. “He couldn’t get a read on which one he was after, but something tells me it doesn’t matter.”
“More strays,” Scott said affectionately. “Who’d Magneto send?”
“Sabertooth or Toad,” Storm answered, turning her face to the window. “He got the impression that Mystique is otherwise engaged.”
“Weather still clear?” Cyclops asked as he checked his readings.
“Mmm.” She hummed the affirmative. “But if I need to, there will be a blizzard.”
“Oh, good. I like it when you get testy.”
The look she shot him might have withered her students, but he continued to grin.
“We’re there. Hang on.”
“Oh, God,” Ororo moaned, checking her seat belt.
“Funny. Very funny.”
Surprisingly, the Blackbird landed smoothly in the center of a snowy clearing. Cyclops’ brow hitched over the edge of his visor, as though asking for comments. Storm rewarded him with a cheeky grin as she patted her leather-covered body looking for damage.
His scowl almost made her laugh.
Leaving the jet via a staircase hatch, the duo took stock of the immediate area. If the calculations were correct, the objects of their search would be along momentarily. Charles wanted them to detain the couple, then convince them to return to Westchester with the X-Men. Ororo didn’t know how they would manage that, but for Charles, they had to try.
“Smell that?” Cyclops asked as he took a quick survey of the surrounding wood.
She did. Gasoline. Smoke.
“Fire.”
As one, they rushed toward the road, dodging fallen logs and slipping on the ice-slicked earth. Trees were capped in sassy white, the frigid air visible with every labored breath. Following the X-Men’s undisputed leader through the dense wood, she pulled in her mutation, readying it and her courage for whatever they might find beyond the trees.
“Get down!”
Cyclops turned and in one fluid movement tackled Ororo’s smaller form to the snow. She struggled to breathe under the bulk of him, instinctively burrowing into the safety zone. A loud growl preceded the crash of a body hitting the expansive tree line. Someone “ something “ roared with rage.
“Sabertooth,” the downed mutants said in unison.
Scott jumped up, leaving Ororo to collect herself. When they were both standing, he pushed more cautiously through the edge of the forest, peering almost curiously at the white-trimmed road that ran through the center. Storm kept close to her teammate, taking stock of the situation as the body took to the air again, this time landed with a metallic crash on the hood of a dented pick up.
Tall, blonde, and menacing, Sabertooth bore down on the truck. Flames licked in the camper and to her horror, Ororo caught sight of a youthful, terrified face through broken glass. Only a child, she thought as their enemy closed in. She was just a girl.
On the hood lay an unconscious male. Ororo could see no physical mutation that explained the fact that he was still breathing, especially after an automobile crash coupled with the animalistic brute called Sabertooth.
When her friend darted into the road, Storm followed. Without him giving the order, she brought down arctic cold and madly swirling snow. The force of the sudden wind turned Sabertooth. She could almost see him test the air, no doubt picking up the hint of ozone that betrayed the storm as unnatural.
The dials of Scott’s visor clicked, even as winds shoved Sabertooth back. He staggered, then leapt into the air a beat before the white-hot sizzle of optic beams sliced through the falling snow. The broken tree, which obviously caused the crash, splintered. Ororo shifted her wind, tossing the airborne Sabertooth as deeply into the forest as she could manage.
“Wonder Twin powers unite,” Cyclops teased with a sly grin.
Ororo curled her fingers, creating a fist that she bumped affectionately with his. The sibling-like moment passed and they once again focused on the task at hand.
As one, the mutants rushed toward the damaged truck. The girl trapped inside was crying, struggling against what appeared to be a broken seat belt. Scott wrenched the door nearly off the hinge, tossing Storm a look that betrayed concern. In the camper shell, flames licked teasingly at a propane tank, dangerously hinting at what would happen in mere moments.
Cyclops stepped out of the way; allowing the maternal Storm to reach out for the young girl after a careful laser released her from the belt. She did not spare her partner a glance as he yanked the limp body from the hood. Instead, Storm locked gazes with the young girl shaking in the truck seat, a hand held out in offering.
Aware of the symbolism, she let the determination and warmth creep across her face. No, little one, she thought as the girl continued to tremble. We won’t hurt you.
A gloved hand slapped into hers and Ororo let the relief come. She tugged her charge out of the truck, helping her over the splintered log and rushing to follow a staggering Cyclops.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Guy’s a lot heavier than he looks.”
“Get down.” Ororo ordered sharply, pushing the girl to the snow and covering her body with hers.
Propane and flame married, sparking an explosion that destroyed the camper, truck, and the very road on which both sat. Debris littered the air and crashed all around them, making the young girl whimper under Storm’s protective cape. Looking to the child, Ororo gave her a small, motherly smile.
“I’m Ororo,” she said as metal struck asphalt. “We’re going to take you somewhere safe.”
“L-Logan? Him, too?” her voice shook, but there was something like loyalty shining from soft brown eyes.
“Is that his name?” Ororo, sensing it was safe, peeked up and began to stand. “Yes, he’ll come, too. You’ll both be safe.”
The girl took her hand again, standing and shaking as she looked to her friend’s unconscious form. Cyclops heaved the heavy man into his arms again, his ruby-tinged gaze sweeping the immediate area for danger.
“This is Scott,” Storm continued. “What’s your name, honey?”
She was skittish as a wild hare, but her hand clung to Ororo’s. Something in that gesture of trust touched Storm’s heart. She squeezed the gloved fingers to reassure her.
“Marie,” she said at last. “I’m Marie.”
~**~
There was little more Ororo could do for the young girl named Marie. When they landed in Westchester, she helped Cyclops and Jean lay the man called Logan on a stretcher. The couple wheeled him away to the med-lab, leaving Storm with a skittish young girl.
“They’re going to make sure he’s all right,” Ororo explained. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
They made their way from the glossy lower levels into the antique-filled mansion. Her charge looked about with wide, innocent eyes. Other children looked out of rooms cautiously, most of them among the seniors attending the school. Younger children she hoped “ for Peter’s sake “ were already tucked into their beds.
Sensing an opening, Storm crooked a finger to the ever-curious pair of Kitty Pryde and Jubilee. They came bouncing out of the kitchen, welcoming smiles covering their faces. Kitty’s long dark hair and sweet-featured face looked distinctly All-American beside the quiet Asian beauty of Jubilation. Both girls, however, were devoted to one another.
“Kitty, Jubilee, this is Marie.” Storm introduced, her heart hurting when Marie shifted closer to the “protector” figure she’d found. “We’re all mutants, Marie. There’s no need to be afraid.”
“What can you do?” asked effervescent Katherine. “I can walk through walls. It’s sorta neat, actually. Sometimes, if I concentrate, I can even walk on air. Jubi, she makes fireworks with her hands, nice and sparkly.”
“Don’t make me burn you,” the calmer Jubilee cut into her friend’s rambling like a professional ringmaster. “You’ve probably seen Storm’s gift. Weather manipulation. Cool, huh?”
Marie turned to look cautiously at Storm. “Is that how you tossed that big guy?” Her Southern drawl was charming when added to that innocent face.
“Yes,” Ororo grinned. “Scott is also called Cyclops, he creates optic beams from his eyes. You’ll find that everyone in this house has a unique ability of some sort and an odd codename to fit it.”
“Like Bobby! We call him Iceman.” Kitty bounced, clapping her hands. “And Petey. Ooh, you’ve got to meet the boys. And your shirt’s ripped. No problem. You can raid Jubi’s closet!”
“Hey!” the other girl’s interruption was ignored.
But when Kitty reached out to take Marie’s hand, the new girl flinched. “Don’t touch me.”
Compassion flooded Shadowcat’s soft gaze. “I won’t hurt you, sweetie.”
“I might hurt you,” the words tumbled from Marie’s mouth in a jumbled, frantic twang. “Whenever someone touches my skin, I suck somethin’ out of them. I can’t control it. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
As one, all three X-Women closed ranks, shushing the frightened teen with soothing tones. Ororo immediately, deliberately threw her leather-covered arm over her shoulders, drawing her close. Kitty and Jubilee would not let Marie resist, and each took one hand in theirs.
“Its ok.” Kitty said with a small smile. “I’ve got some gloves you can have.”
“And it’s New York, we’ve got plenty of long-sleeved clothes.” Jubilee added. “Why don’t we let Storm get out of her uniform? You come on up with Kit-Kat and me. You can have some pizza, take a shower.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Ororo agreed. “I’ll leave you girls in charge. Make sure our newest recruit gets settled in while I check in with the Professor.”
“We’ll explain everything,” Jubilee promised, obviously seeing the question and alarm on Marie’s face. “So, you got a codename, Marie?”
Astonished and slightly awed, the girl whispered. “Rogue.”
“Damn, why didn’t I think of that one?” Kitty sighed, drawing Rogue between herself and Jubilee, deftly taking her from Storm’s hands. “They call me Shadowcat.”
“Cute.” Marie glanced back at Ororo. The elder mutant waved with one hand, smiling encouragement.
If anyone could soothe the terrified girl, it was the unbeatable team of Jubilee and Shadowcat.
Deciding their newest member was in good hands, Ororo headed upstairs to her bedroom, peeling her wet and soggy uniform off. After pulling on pajamas, she padded down the hallway to the staircase that led to the master suite. Charles was waiting, she could feel the gentle pull of his mental probing.
So, she didn’t bother to knock when she reached his rooms. Stepping inside, Ororo gifted her mentor with a smile.
“She’s settling in with Kitty and Jubilee.”
“An excellent choice, my dear.” Charles still wore his crisp linen suit, beckoning her closer to sit in his private sitting room. “And the man?”
“Jean has him,” Storm answered. She took the offered seat on a plush settee of deep, forest green. Slipping long legs under her backside, the woman settled comfortably.
“We will learn more in the morning, I believe,” Charles nodded, giving her that rare, paternal smile. “You were just in time.”
“Barely. Had you gotten those coordinates to us any later, we might have been to late to save them.” Storm paused, gauging her friend’s mood with a cursory glance at his handsome features. “Charles, what happened with Erik?”
Benevolent blue eyes closed, an expression of acute pain lingering on his lined face. Ororo gave in to impulse, remembering the way Rogue shied from her. She took her friend’s bare hand in hers, squeezing his fingers with gentle support.
“When he left us,” Charles began haltingly. “I knew this day would come.”
“We all did,” she whispered, trying to ignore the pang of loss.
“He’s committed now. To what end, I’m not sure.” The Professor sighed, opening those warm azure eyes again. “But we must be prepared to meet him.”
“We are prepared,” Storm replied, squeezing his hand again. “You’ve made sure of that.”
“Perhaps.” His tone was so melancholy, Ororo abandoned her seat to kneel before him. Embracing him because they were alone and it was welcomed, she wrapped Charles tightly in her arms as a daughter might.
“We are prepared, Charles. Don’t doubt us now.”
“No.” He kissed her hair, making her smile. “I would never doubt any of you.”
