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Ororo coughed just to break the monotony of sound of footsteps falling into dirt.
Again, days were passing without any stopping to rest.
Her long hair snagged on a crest in the rock wall every time she caused a fresh breeze to flutter down the endless cave tunnel. She wondered where the source of the small blessing came from but knew that it was far, far from her.
There must be an end to this, she thought. She was impatient to find it but something told her this journey was meant to be long for a reason.

Well I never was the waiting type, she chuckled to herself.

She moved to tap his shoulder. His hunched back, clenched buttocks, and tense calves radiated hatred towards her, the single focus of his emotions in the lonesome tunnel, but it wasn’t something to concern her self with.
But before she could do so he snapped around on his heel, grabbing her wrist and pushed her into the wall. Ororo’s entire body slammed into every hill and crevice in the rock but she schooled her face to show the barest gleam of annoyance.

He only stared down at her, his look only carrying one message: This is your only warning.

“Very well, then. I suppose you don’t know the time.”

Hours later, Ororo’s nostrils were still flared as she tried to reign in her temper. She felt the ground shake when he’d attacked her, ready to bury her alive, and she knew to win this war she’d have to concede this battle.
He released her seconds later, harshly throwing away her touch as if it disgusted him.

Ororo shook her head.

Men, in her experience, were far more emotional than women. It only became worse the longer they spent in each other’s company---alone.
The Soldier appeared at first to be like her- above most of the most petty human emotions- but it was becoming clear as their time grew longer between them that it was harder for him to disguise the soft, weak parts of his ever so manly character. Ororo rarely tried to put on a show with anyone. She was who she was- strong or weak- and others had no control of any part of her personality.

A thought came to her mind “And they never, ever will…not again…please mother...no!!” but she forcefully put that away.

They trekked onwards, the time passing slowly, and the world Ororo now knew seemed small and pointless.

When they arrived at a forked road he turned sharply to the left. The right avenue was a larger awning with a well worn track and a warm blaze of a single torch ahead.
Evidently the Soldier decided that a short cut would be best.

This earthy corridor cut sharply downwards and Ororo’s annoyance with the man lessened as her fear grew. It wasn’t an unreasonable fear; it was a logical one that cried out something primal and human. Not so much a fear but perhaps an apprehension.
It was a strange feeling she couldn’t remember ever feeling, this way, so deeply. Her gut clenched and she forced herself not to think of the walls now within easy arm reach. The Soldier merely crouched down to continue.

Only when the walls began to touch her shoulder did Ororo start to consider she wouldn’t make it. The floor dipped and rolled but the ceiling remained an omnipresent weight above her.
Her gut was telling her something was very wrong. Her heart felt like someone was punching it just to keep it working. She walked slower and slower, trying to put off the inevitable, until the Soldier was a distant bobbing shadow. She didn’t even have the space to turn her head. She tried to breathe deeply but her mind screamed that wasn’t going to work. Every second, every foot forward, she felt the growing strain of the natural and unnatural world enclosing her and growing...feeding on her emotions and strength.... When a few pebbles fell on her head she screamed.

Logan jumped when he heard the scream. The hellion that boss Devil had attached him to was trailing behind and he figured he’d finally got her where he wanted. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when she begged him for mercy but he’d think of something. He smiled trying to conceive of worse and crueler plans. This was his moment to show her exactly who she was playing games with. And yet he wondered if this was all it really took to shake her. And if he wanted to play with something so weak. He sniffed.

Logan waited a few minutes but the woman wasn’t moving. Taking a deep breathe, as if he would need a steadying breathe, he turned back.
Leaving her even further behind was an option but his mission went beyond his personal misgivings. Logan felt the second his part was accomplished he could tell the Boss what a mistake this one was. She was no Soldier. Maybe a snivelling Advocate but no Soldier.
Growling he narrowed his eyes. He’d noticed the air getting thicker with dust but it wasn’t exactly like he was suffering from allergies.
In front of him the path they were on narrowed and widened in extreme swings of excess. Ororo was crouched farther back.

When the Soldier came upon her he was shocked. Ororo couldn’t blame him. Even Remy would be shocked by this. Deep inside she knew this was the path not taken. The earth, dark and red, waited to quench itself in their blood.
This tunnel was not safe.
She fell to her knees as she felt the first wave of crushing power waiting to bear down on them. Trembling, holding the walls apart with her fingers, she tried to speak to explain.
From the second she diverted a portion of her attention from the cave the elements began to unwind themselves.
Hurriedly, Ororo snapped her attention back to it. Taking deep meditative breathes she went into a yoga warrior pose she’d invented in one of her past lives.

Despite telling herself not to think about anything, to clear her mind, Ororo couldn’t help think about the lives she had lead and wonder what key mistake had driven her to hell. Or if there was any real sin that could have brought her to this moment. Did anyone look back on their life and find themselves exclaiming “Aha!”? She suspected there were too many shades of gray for that. Even Dr Faustus could never figure it out. The trembling beckoned and Ororo put her mind into a vise. She needed to concentrate deeply.

Logan’s senses were going wild. He knew he’d never taken this route before but he’d been told it was possible. “Just a rough ride for a newb,” his own initiator into the dark world of Soldiering had guffawed at his questions. Obviously what Charlie “Chuckles” X had actually meant was that the place was a deathtrap. He cursed himself and wondered how the hell he was going to get them out of this.

“Remy,” she whimpered his name like a prayer. She repeated his name, wanting him here with her. If he could only feel the absolute power of the earth…If he could only quiver with her in awe!
The Soldier grabbed her by the shoulders, which worked by steadying her as well as dragging her forward, and muttered to himself, “It’s Logan.”
Ororo took a few steadying breathes.
“What?” she murmured.

Ororo was beyond listening to a mere mortal. She felt her soul, for once in a long time, soaring on a crest of complete power. But the power of the soil is deep and ancient as the pull of the ocean’s gravitas. Perhaps in one of her past lives, she would have been equipped to handle this situation but even then she supposed she might struggle.

“Lo-gan,” he enunciated out slowly for her. “L-O-G-A-N. It’s my name. Yours is Ororo? Happens to be the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard,” he coughed as another rain of once deeply ingrained dirt and mould showered them.

Ororo could hear the roar of the vortex willing to drag her in. Beneath their feet, the earth trembled in want. This time it shook so hard Logan had to steady himself with a free hand. Faintly she recognized the puny waste of meat in front of her.
But barely.
In the heart of the dark, time has a clock that tolls for those beyond the coils of death and life. The ticking began to tune itself to Ororo’s heartbeat- a rhythm too slow, too large for her tiny body to handle.
Logan introduced himself again. He felt, rather than sensed, Ororo was struggling with something deeper than a case of claustrophobia. The outcome of that battle would be the collection of one reward: their lives.
Softly he used his words, tongue, and gentle caresses to encourage her. He lapped at her neck and nipped her cheeks. Cupping her ass he hauled her closer to him despite the restriction in space. He felt her lean on him but it wasn’t like when they had been having sex and she had just her body on top of him.
This was an extraordinary power and heft that was coming from some outside source. He kept dragging both her body, soul, and mind forward. Nearly unable to handle the immense slabs of rock face that stopped him from picking her up he patiently moved one step after another.

After a time they came to a brief opening in their narrow trail. Stalagmites kissed the roof and the boulders and other sizable rock rumbled in response. Ororo stumbled but stood firm on her own. She went back to her warrior pose, legs thrust just so and her arms thrown up into the air, and Logan watched in amazement at her determination. For a second he considered interrupting but restrained himself. Looking around the considerably larger room in proportion to the rough path, Logan started to run through their options.

Too late to turn back.
Too dangerous to continue.
Too far to go before safety

Screwed, he whispered to himself, completely and totally fucked.

*_*

The Devil filed away the newest Saint’s paperwork. A small device shimmered and tinkled, a small choir with a tinny quality.
“Even God can’t make a great cellphone with perfect coverage huh?”
“God help me,” muttered Jesus, his voice crackling over the line. “He’s a comedian.”
“You’ve no kind words for your Uncle’s effort? Guess you won’t be my support act at any local competitions huh?” The Devil enjoyed cracking jokes with the young (…considering his family lineage) man. He was so serious with an ashy colouring to his skin from stress and an orator’s voice and demeanor. And a honking nose.
“I crack a couple of jokes of or about certain physical aspects which I will now respect due to your personal sensitivity while you’re meditating in the desert for 40 days and you get a permanent stick in your ass? Somehow that’s just not fair.”
“You’re not exactly my uncle,” Jesus snapped. He called mostly for business and rarely visited in person but if he did, it was for pleasure. The Devil saw to it he got laid every couple dynasties. It kept the kid from going insane.
“Well God ain’t exactly your dad, Lil Mister Spawned from Half of the Eternal Core of Reality, but you don’t stop milking that train do you?”
“Will you be serious?” Jesus asked. His tone implied he was bored but more likely he was in a hurry to return to something he’d been doing. He spent eons at his monitors, carefully helping his father plan war tactics. The Devil suspected God had really renewed his interest in their game with the mortals and reality they’d created ever since he’d chopped off a sliver of his essence and wrapped it in a mortal coil a la pigs in a blanket. Sending his angels here and there, guiding his “son” to a fruitful life, arranging allegories and miracles…it kept a guy busy.
The Devil stuck his tongue out. God had really upped him in this category. His own attempts had been less than stellar. Mostly because these playthings still didn’t really interest him. He gulped and tuned back into his pseudo nephew.
“…so as long as that Saint transfer went well I’m basically glad. Congratulations again on such a coup. But I wonder if we’ll always be stealing our best and brightest from each other?”
The Devil forced himself to chuckle like always.
“You’re welcome, I think? Always glad to take the deadweight.”
In actuality the Devil was interested in the concept of God & co. planning to steal something from him. Jesus noticed he’d perhaps spoken too much and excused himself quickly.

The Devil looked at the receiver for a few seconds before hanging up. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could feign interest in the small sins most people commit. Or take responsibility for the large ones. Willingly and gladly did he torture those who truly deserved it in the lower hells. But on his plain surrounding his tower…it was his little party. He realized he was relying on Logan, Remy, Forge, and now Ororo more than ever.
Nemirok avanda sane nipor, indeed.


*^*

In the cave everything except the two shivering bodies was still.

The earth is patient, it can wait. Waiting for blood.

Ororo slowly eased out of the warrior pose. Her body was rendered both mentally and physically stiff and tired. Logan helped her sit down in between his legs and despite her natural reflex to punch him or throw him off-she couldn’t. This was her- weak, fighting hard with everything she had, but still not nearly enough. She had to accept this.
After awhile she spoke, “It’s a good place. For now. It won’t last and it shall be worse when we leave.”
Logan nodded. He ignored her soft hair caressing his chest hairs, sending shivers down his spine. He repeated their options. He demanded himself to focus on their survival.
Ororo shook her head slowly. Weary but not yet out for the count she insisted they’d make it. Logan was expressionless but amazed. She wasn’t a quitter.
"Perhaps we might call on some ally?” she asked.
Logan snorted. “Out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Have faith. My friend Remy might still be following us. If he discovers something amiss, and he will, he’ll get someone or die trying to help me. But will he be in time?” she mused.

Logan again made sure he did nothing to give away his earlier actions.
No Remy was coming.
Not in this lifetime.

“Well what’s our back up plan in case yer hero doesn't fed ex a miracle?”
Ororo shrugged. “Fuck like crazy and get down for the boogie sucker, we’re all going to die anyway? I don’t really have another back up plan other than to survive, live, get out.”
Logan snorted again. “Really?”
“Are you still upset I had such...active sex with you, Soldier?”
Logan stared at the imposing ceiling. He felt pressure to get them out of there safely but he had a feeling this situation was beyond their control.
“Soldier? Are you thinking?”
“Ah got a name. Use it.”
Ororo wrinkled her brow. Slowly she felt the Soldier take two knuckles to her cheek, taking a bead of her sweat.
“Hmm, I think I would remember you telling me something like that-”

Her words were cut off by the viciousness of another ripping in the hemisphere.

“It comes,” she stated simply. “Prepare yourself, Soldier.”
Slowly they rose, his arm on her elbow, and they turned to each other. Their enemy was faceless, emotionless, and timeless.
“It’s Logan.”
"What-ever, Soldier."




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