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Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.


Thank you reviewers, sorry about the wait!


Chapter.10.


When Jean, Scott and Bobby eventually dared to look up from the ground, they were horrified at the mess that lay before them. There, as the dust settled and the odd grain of sand sparkled in the torch-light, Logan was spread-eagled on the floor; a pool of thick, dark blood oozed from beneath his stomach, spreading rapidly. Chunks of pink and bloodied flesh were sprayed across the ground, along with melded pieces of leather uniform and the burning stench of both was hanging oppressively in the air.


“Oh my god! Logan!” Jean was the first on the scene, grabbing Logan’s limp, lifeless bulk by his left arm and rolling him over so that his badly damaged upper-body rested in her lap. “Logan!” She screeched again as she tried her best to assess the damage but there was just so much blood; the artificial glint of perfectly shiny adamantium ribs glared back at her from the deep gaping hole that was once Wolverine’s stomach. Scott ran over to her then, yanking one glove off with his teeth as he went and as he knelt on the ground at the other side of Logan from Jean, he pushed his fingers underneath the high leather collar of the injured man’s uniform; feeling around frantically for a pulse. Seconds dragged like hours for the three X-Men as they stared down at their fallen comrade with desperate hope, but Scott couldn’t feel anything, and despite the fact that he and the rest of them knew about Logan’s amazing healing abilities, they all feared the worst, it was a natural reaction to seeing such carnage.


But as he was about to pull his hand away, starting to ruefully shake his head, Scott suddenly felt a large thump under his middle and index finger as they pressed hard against Logan’s neck, just beneath his jaw-line.


“Yes!” Scott whispered almost to himself as he withdrew his hand and then took Logan from Jean’s lap, laying him flat on the ground so he could get a better picture as to whether he was healing quickly or not. The sense of relief all round was palpable as Jean sighed, inadvertently letting out a racked sob and Bobby leant back against the wall, literally feeling his heart sinking back down to his chest from his mouth. Scott peered down into Logan’s body, amazed to witness the flesh, muscles and blood vessels repairing themselves at frightening speed, like a video-tape playing on fast-forward. It was going at such a speed that he could no longer see the shine of the adamantium ribs and everything appeared to be going well, but he was still unconscious. Scott presumed it was his body’s way of coping with such extreme trauma; he’d never seen Wolverine take such a bad hit before.


“Scott, what are we going to do now?” Jean asked from somewhere behind him as she checked the immediate area for any returning forces.


The whole time Scott had been checking Logan he’d still had one eye on the ball, formulating a plan of action in his mind, “Iceman, I need you to take Wolverine back to the Blackbird until he’s completely healed. Jean and I will carry on looking, but we’ve got Storm as our priority now too. So as soon as you can, I need you two to come back in and look for her, whilst we search for Catherine, O. K?”


Bobby simply nodded, his eyes locked onto Logan’s rapidly healing form the whole time.


“O. K.” Satisfied that Bobby would just about be able to hold it together, Scott got up from the floor, clasping Jean’s hand in his as he did so, starting off down the corridor once more, but he stopped just before they rounded the edge. Turning back to Bobby he reminded him, “And Iceman, if there’s any problems, just use this.” He let go of Jean’s hand, using it to tap the small metal ‘X’ that was attached to his uniform, high on the left side of his chest. Bobby smiled and nodded, checking that his own X-communicator was safely in place. Then he watched as they disappeared from sight and he was left, to all intents and purposes, alone.



* * *


#I can’t breathe! I CAN’T BREATHE!# Ororo sat bolt upright, her hands coming
up to her neck and immediately finding a thin, curved piece of metal encircling it. She dug her fingers into the small space between it and her skin and tried to pull. Again and again she tugged at it but the collar wouldn’t budge; it was stuck fast. It was only then that she opened her eyes. There were four men stood about her, all dressed in white linen tunics but what was most startling was the fact that they all had perfectly skinned leopards on their backs; the heads of the animal skins acting like hoods, their paws draped over the men’s shoulders. Ororo forgot about the restraint around her neck for a moment as she stared in confused amazement at the men as they stood around the plinth that she was lay on, chanting in a language that was unknown to her. Just as she got her head around them being there, they began to fall back, stepping to the side as another figure came to the fore. A tall, thin, pale man, dressed in cobalt blue...


~ “Ororo, you have finally come round I am glad to see.” ~ He stepped closer and the light of a nearby candle fell upon his face...and somehow, she knew it was him. ~ “I hope the hit you took from the stun-laser was not too painful.”~


Ororo had a second to glance down and realise that she was no longer in her leather uniform, but a soft, white slip, similar to the men-with-leopards. ~ “What have you done with Catherine?”~ She didn’t even realise she speaking Arabic.


~ “She is...safe.”~ Was his cryptic reply. As the Shadow King came around to Ororo’s side, she never let her eyes fall from him; gazing up at him with barely concealed contempt.


~ “Where is she?”~ She was unperturbed by his menacing stare, asking the question with an adamant determination and icy calm, for her own safety was the last thing on her mind. This monster could do whatever he wanted to her, as long as he left her niece unharmed.


~ “You need not concern yourself with that at this moment. There are much more important things we must prepare for.”~ He took a step back as four young, dark haired women, who had only a length of white cloth about their waists, a gold collar around their necks and were bare breasted, came forwards from the shadows of the room. But somewhere, in the murky hidden folds of the room, the other men still chanted their ceaseless mantra. The girls came up to Ororo and each took a piece of her tunic, pulling it off her body. She grabbed at it, making a desperate attempt to stop them from un-robbing her and without thinking she tried to summon her powers...but they wouldn’t come. She tried again and then the Shadow King chuckled, ~ “I wouldn’t bother doing that Ororo. That,”~ he pointed at the flat piece of enscriptured metal about her neck, digging into the skin just bellow the collar bone. ~ “That will prevent any nasty accidents from occurring, as happened last time.”~ A truly chilling wry smile forced the upward movement of his thin, cracked lips.


By now, the girls had taken Ororo’s thin layer of covering from her so that she was sat upright and naked save for the collar that she now realised, from her abortive attempt to summon the weather to her unique command, was somehow constructed to block her powers. But she didn’t feel shame and nor did she try to cover her nudity, in fact, her resolve was swelling by the second. ~ “What do you want of me tyrant?”~ No fear, no doubt.


~ “The prophecy child...it is all written in the stars and has been since the dawn of time, like the universe itself, it is unmoveable, unshakable and infinite in its existence.”~ Ororo fought the urge to let out a condescending laugh in response to this mad man’s ramblings, but at least they where buying her some time to try and work out a plan of action or, or...something. ~ “Let me tell you a story if you will, Ororo Munroe.”~ He walked over to a seat that was slightly raised from the floor on a couple of steps, opposite the plinth. ~ “The story of a man, who stumbled upon his fate, had been blindly falling towards it for his entire life without realising.”~ Resting his hands on the delicately curving ends of the intricately carved wooden chair the Shadow King settled back and began. ~ “As a young man I trained as an Egyptologist at the University of Cairo but even then I knew I had this gift---the gift to enter peoples minds, to make them do my will if I so wished. But it was on an excavation in a newly discovered tomb South-West of Memphis, the very heart of the great dynasties of Ancient Egypt, that my life and this extraordinary power I possessed, all began to make sense. We discovered a wall deep in the bowls of the Mastaba that was encrypted with a type of hieroglyphics, the likes of which no-one had seen before. Un-yet, for some reason I felt...compelled...drawn almost to decipher its meaning, its locked secrets that had been hidden for thousands of years and may have remained so for thousands more. But...you can not escape your fate. And so, I spent years studying the scripture, trawling through the Book of the Dead for some key to its symbols, its peculiar syntax and after many days, weeks, months and eventually years...I unlocked it and it was...”~ His head tilted up and looked about the room, as if trying to pull the correct adjective out of the air. Then, with a wistful sigh, he said, ~ “...an epiphany.”~


The servant-girls had now come back to Ororo, with bowls of sweet-smelling milky liquids, whose scent was thick and strangely intoxicating, like the most potent of incense. They all set them down carefully at the four corners of the plinth and in time with each other, they reached inside, drawing out lumps of natural sponge; giving them a good squeeze, they came in on Ororo and started to wipe her body with the substance, ‘cleansing’ the skin with ritually methodical strokes. None of the girls would catch her eye, in fact they all seemed to be in some kind of a trance or daze. So Ororo didn’t trouble herself with them and let them proceed with their task unhindered. She wanted to listen to this mad man because she was finally receiving answers as to why her entire family were dead, save for Catherine...at the moment anyway.


~ “I don not expect you to understand girl---I can see that look in your eyes, you think me mad. But I assure you Goddess---for that is what you truly are---after this night you will thank me and think no more of these, these...earthly trappings.”~ (By which he clearly meant Catherine and Logan) ~ “You, my girl, where meant for higher things. Not serving those humans who would kill you, not protecting them. Indeed, they should worship you and oh, how they will.”~ He laughed, gleeful and spiteful all at once, ~ “...oh how they will, believe me.”~


~ “And how do you intend on making them do that?”~ She had enough of his insanity, his promises of grandeur---she only wanted to know the cause of this madness, the reasons for his delusions.


The Shadow King sensed her haste and smiled at her as he stepped down from the seat and came towards her once more. The girls moved away, only to return swiftly with fresh bowls containing a clear rose-coloured liquid this time and immediately set about repeating the procedure of ‘cleansing’. All the while Ororo and the King held each others gaze in the flickering fire light and the priests in the corners continued to chant...~ “It was prophesied that a new and all-powerful ‘Triad of Abydos’ would be reborn to rule Egypt and all of Africa when Mercury aligns with Sah, the constellation of Orion...a Goddess, who is the personification four Goddesses incarnate, shall be reborn. Ka will be Nut; goddess of all skies. She will be Tehmet; goddess of the dew and the rain. She will be Heqat; who is the embodiment of the mist and the fog. But most importantly, Ka will be Isis, the true Goddess of Nature. She will be all these things in the body of one Goddess, one Supreme Being who is beyond reproach by all others and all things; she will wield nature and therefore all life to her will. And to this Goddess will be joined the Mindwalker.”~ Ororo’s breath caught in her throat but she fought hard not to show it, swallowing down slowly, affecting a veneer of complete, cool control in the face of what he was proposing. The girls pulled her arms out so that she was sat, like an upright crucifix, wiping the scented water over the outstretched limbs. ~ “The Mindwalker, it was written, shall join in a cosmic union with Ka as Mercury shifts and on the moment of alignment a son shall be conceived of the union, bringing the mighty God Osiris back to the realm of the living and creating the Abydos Triad anew and WE SHALL RULE!”~ The last part of his rendition of the prophecy had been spoken with edgy excitement and agitation almost, until it ended with a crashing crescendo; shaking fists in the air and wild joy. There was no doubt that he believed all this to be true, all this utter nonsense and Ororo could now do nothing in the face of it but laugh, which earned her a smart slap. ~ “YOU MOCK! But you will not for long!”~


Wrenching her arms from the girls, who put up little resistance to the action, Ororo rubbed her cheek briefly as her hair fell from her face, narrowing her eyes at the King, the old anger returning. But then again, maybe it had never left...~ “Do you really believe all of this? Are you that completely insane that you think yourself a God? I know what it is to be treated like a Goddess and I know what it is to be blamed for destruction that is only nature’s way. I rid myself of any lingering delusions a long time ago...maybe I never believed them in the first place. All I do know is that I have been blessed with these powers but I am no more a Goddess than you are a God.”~ She shifted forwards on the plinth, pushing herself along with the palms of her hands, before dropping, gracefully, off the edge. Her bare feet crunching on the sand as she stood with no fear before the Shadow King; their eye-line’s more or less level. ~ “You killed my parents and wrongfully took my sister in my place to fulfil your egotistical desires...you will pay dearly for your presumptions.”~ She hesitated, but only briefly before her next words came forth. ~ “I have killed you once...I have no qualms about doing so again.”~ Ororo surprised herself to find that she meant that threat. After all the pain and soul-searching her last act of fatal aggression had caused, (for a while she had thought she’d never want to use her powers again) and yet here she was, ready and willing to kill again. But she had no time to question herself; she was working on the pure adrenaline that the raging hatred for this monster had stirred in her...and the fact that he could rouse that side of her nature only made her despise him more.


~ “Bring her in!”~ The King ordered and turned his head to the door as two guards came in, dismissive of her threat but somehow convinced of its genuineness. One of the guards came through the black hole that was the doorway with a clump of chains curling several times around his podgy, calloused hand, the metal loops being attached to something that was shuffling along behind them. Whatever it was had obviously come to a halt just outside the door because the guard was forced to give the chains a vicious tug, pulling in, to Ororo’s eternal horror, Catherine. Bound at the hands with thick, coarse rope, the chains fastened about her neck in a choke fashion so that when the guard tugged again, the steel strangled her, making her pitch forwards, tripping on the long white robe she had been placed in and collapsing to the ground at Ororo and the King’s feet.


“Catherine!” Ororo practically fell to the floor in her haste to get to her niece. “What have they done to you?” She asked mournfully as she wiped Catherine’s loose, thick hair out of her face only to be met with the absent stare of a catatonic. ~“What have you done to her?!”~ Ororo cried up at her captor, only taking her eyes from Catherine for a moment. “My poor child!” She whispered as she wiped again at her hair, pushing more out of the way.


~ “I have done nothing, I regret to say that she fell into this state all by herself. But if you wish her to be well again or to live at all...you will do as I ask”~ He managed to crouch his creaking frame down to the floor, placing his fingers on the collar around Ororo’s neck, running them thoughtfully along its length at the front ~ “Despite this power inhibitor, I still can not enter your mind fully until you let down those obstructing barriers that this...Professor...has placed there.”~


~ “So you’re not all powerful after all!”~ She spat back at him and simultaneously being grateful for the lessons that Charles had given her, and indeed Scott, in the art of cerebral defences.


He ignored her; ~ “We must be...as one, for the union. So, there must be no resistance. Allow me and Catherine lives.”~ He stood back up and sauntered back over to the chair and sat, as if trying to gain a position from which he could stare down at her from on-high. ~ “Deny me, and she will die now.”~


Ororo was left little choice...



* * *


Logan was dimly aware of the fact that he was moving; being pulled along in intermittent jerks. He could hear the scrapping of sand and feel the heels of his boots digging two parallel troughs in the dirt along his slow path to who knows where. For a moment his mind was in a mist; a fractured state of consciousness that could only piece together feelings which entered through physical sensations, namely pain. As his faculties gradually came back to him, he gained enough strength in order to suddenly throw his weight forwards, causing his supporter to lose their grasp that had been firmly lodged under both arms. Logan fell forwards onto his hands and knees as slowly the world around him came into some kind of conscionable state through the lingering shots of pain that ran across his midriff and the same point at his back.


“Logan?...Wolverine, are you alright?...Wolverine?...Wolverine?...” He could hear a boy’s voice; Bobby’s voice somewhere to his right, echoing and distorted. Shaking his head he looked up. His vision was blurred and it took him a few seconds more to focus it. A dark yellowish brown wall appearing from the blur. But with its return other things conspired to pervade his mind also, the memory of the explosion, searing fire ripping through his entire body...no, something before that...Ororo being hit. It came to him clear as day now; the sight of her crashing into the wall, being taken from him by the men who ambushed them and with all this came a frightening rage that took hold like the most contagious fever. Bobby took a step closer to Logan but immediately took about three back as the man on the ground began to growl; a chilling sound that he’d never heard come from Wolverine with such intensity, such a vicious ferality. Deep and low, but infinitely menacing. He appeared to be trembling as he held his tense position on his hands and knees but Iceman soon realised that he wasn’t trembling as such, more shaking with an unimaginable fury, his stance now appearing more like the crouch of a predator about to pounce. Instinctively, clear blue eyes wide with a justifiable fear, Bobby reached for the communicator that he was now thanking his lucky stars Cyclops had pointed out to him. Fumbling to grip it in cumbersome leather gloves, when he did find it, he flicked the button that sat in its centre and pulling it in the direction of his mouth although it was still attached to his uniform, he called, in an almost fearful whisper, “Cyclops this is Iceman---can you here me?” There was a brief crackle, but not like your bog-standard communicator radio, the transmission was as clear as a bell as the X-Men’s leader’s voice answered.


“Yes Iceman? Are you at the ‘Bird yet?”


A nervously worried grin came to Bobby’s lips, “Urr...not quite.”


“Well get him there, now!” Scott sounded somewhat preoccupied; too busy concentrating on his own mission to answer what he presumed where Bobby’s trifling concerns.


“But, he’s---.” The transmission cut and Bobby realised he was going to have to deal with this situation all by himself. A completely terrifying prospect to say the least. Letting go of the sliver ‘X’, he watched as Logan began to rise, slowly at first, the pieces of the decimated upper half of his jump-suite hanging about him like tassels, although the arms remained fairly intact, the back was just as bad because the blast had gone straight through his body. But the now smooth, though still hairless skin that covered the previously damaged areas betrayed that anything had ever happened. “L”Logan, I think we should---.” Too late. Wolverine had sprung from the floor with a tremendous roar and was down the corridor and away like a man possessed, ripping off the redundant sleeves of his uniform as he went. And Bobby had no choice but to follow despite the fact that all he really wanted to do was find a dark corner somewhere and curl up into a ball until all this was over! Down tunnel after tunnel he followed the older X-Man, retracing the same path that it had been such an effort to drag him along previously, for his weight had been utterly unbelievable. It was an effort just to keep up with him now, as he zoomed forwards, left, right, right and then left again; knowing exactly where he was going, sniffing the air from time to time. A tracker dog on a strong and definite scent.


“Wolverine! Wait!” Bobby huffed and panted, picking up speed and getting closer all the time. “Wolverine, Cyclops said I should get you back to the Blackbird!” He got close enough to grab onto him and he did just that, taking hold of a lose chunk of leather near to the belt line to halt him; although for the life of him he couldn’t think why as he received the only reaction to the gesture one could expect from a feral man on a single minded mission. Iceman found himself thrown unceremoniously to the floor with three sharp points not one centimetre from his face. As Wolverine loomed over him, still growling, a glint of madness in his hazel eyes that had grown dark, Bobby, ever the jester, managed to shrug his shoulders rather stiffly from his restricted position and quip, with a fear-induced chuckle, “Or maybe not!” Now that he thought about it, the guy was completely healed, why bother to follow Scott’s orders now?


Logan held his claws where they were for a little longer before drawing them, and his whole body back. To Bobby’s surprise, he yanked him back to his feet in the process of straightening up with the grasp he had on the collar of the young X-Man’s uniform. And he did this despite still being in the grip of this feverish rage that seemed to have overridden all rational faculties. Clearly, there was an amount of control still present. But then, without a word, Wolverine continued on his quest, leaving Bobby to follow him once more, this time willing to be guided in this change of plan.


* * *


Scott and Jean had just come to a large set of double doors that had two ridged pillars at either side of them, giving the distinct impression that this led to the hub of all activities. The doors themselves were adorned with various carvings and looked heavy. This seemed as good a place to look for Catherine as any other even though the Professor’s last contact, a few minutes previous had failed to detect any presence yet again.


“What do you think?” Scott asked, turning to Jean for a second opinion as to whether they should attempt to breach the doors or not. She only nodded, looking back up at the large hunks of wood.


“They look like they need to be opened via mechanisms though.” They both pondered this in silence for a moment.


Then Scott asked, “Do’ya think I should blast them?” He turned his head to look at her once more.


Still eyeing them curiously, Jean replied distractedly at the same time as sizing and weighting them up, “No, no...I think I can get them open.” With that she readied herself, mentally and physically for the forthcoming excursion. Putting her hands up; the palms laid flat, vertically parallel with the doors that she wished to move, she concentrated on her telekinesis; feeling the very molecules of the wooden structure being pulled through the equally heavy particles of air as it rumbled in slow response to Jean’s cerebral command. Gradually, the doors strained against their enforcements, edging outwards with tremendous creaking sounds, coming forwards and then relenting backwards with increasing speed, stirring up dust and grit from the floor. Jean felt the trickles of sweat running down her forehead as she willed the doors to give, knowing that only a few...more...nudges...With a sudden blast of splinters the doors did give; exploding outwards and causing both Jean and Cyclops to dive either side to avoid the debris. Once the dust and danger had cleared both X-Men looked up to the sight that lay before them through the opened doors; the most magnificent room they had ever seen. (That, unknown to them, was an exact replica of the room that Ororo had been brought to all those years ago. The same markings, the same eight pillars, the same throne...) They stood back up, brushing themselves off and completely enthralled by what they saw...until they realised that it was absolutely devoid of life. No Shadow King, no Storm, no Catherine, no guards, no nobody.


“Where the hell is everybody?” Scott asked, pondering the question more to himself than Jean.


But she did answer, though it was far from helpful or conclusive in anyway, “I”I don’t know. I can tell Catherine’s near...Ororo too.” She sighed, exasperated and somewhat annoyed with herself that she couldn’t quite pin-point them. “But...I can’t tell where.” Just as they were about to step forwards into the chamber they heard footsteps, beating footsteps, running footsteps that were becoming louder and louder, heading in their direction. Both Jean and Scott braced themselves, turning in the sound’s direction, convinced that another attack was immanent. Only to be greeted by the sight of Logan rounding the corner, Bobby following not too far behind but looking red faced and considerably more exhausted than his hirsute companion.


“Iceman! What is he doing here?!” Scott bellowed, shocked to see a so rejuvenated Wolverine, but not quite as angry as Bobby had expected him to be. Coming to a halt just as Logan did to sniff the air again; Iceman leant on his thighs in a hunched posture as he fought to catch his breath, pointing at Wolverine as he disappeared into the room beyond the destroyed doors. Jean and Cyclops followed him and Bobby was not far behind the pair.


“I tried to stop him, but you know what he’s like! He went crazy when he woke up, I tried to stop him!” He repeated as he came up behind Jean, looking at the surrounding chamber with the same momentary awe as they had. They all followed Logan’s path forwards but stopped; they were about one quarter of the way into the space, while he had stopped halfway in, inspired to their halt by Wolverine’s hesitancy after he’d seemed so determined before.


“What is it Logan?” Jean asked, at that moment sensing an all too familiar presence but a presence changed in its essence somehow...


Then in she came from some concealed entrance at the back of the hall; Ororo, more accurately Storm. Flying in on a wind more virulent than was necessary, so vicious in fact that as it reached the X-Men, all were nearly knocked off their feet. She made a terrifying yet stunning sight as she came close to them; the thing that struck them most initially being her new attire. On her head, gripped into her loose and wildly whipping silver mane, sat a golden tiara that peaked into an idol like figure of a lion and the similarly gold plate around her neck and shoulders had an unceasingly blinking pinkish light set into its centre like a LED on a remote control. She was bare from there down, the only other thing to cover her being a belt made of large interlinking loops that sat loosely about her curving hips, from the centre of which hung a strip of blue silk that ran down between her thighs, one at the back and one at the front. She looked every bit the Goddess that one would expect to see adorned upon the walls of the chamber, down to the thick lines of kohl that were marked heavily under and above her glowing eyes, continuing along until they curved upwards and downwards respectively across the sides of her face to meet at a point close to the top of each ear.


“Oh my god...” Jean whispered from barely parted lips as she looked up at her best friend. But it wasn’t her best friend, she could hardly detect Ororo Munroe at all---the Shadow King had infected her like a virus, body and soul. All she could sense from Storm now was a naked aggression that matched the fury of the weather that she had always tried so hard to contain. But not any more, for all inhibitions had been removed by the monster that now controlled her.


“Ororo?” Logan called, his voice sounding almost human again although it still contained a growl, his concern for his wife had managed to override the prevalence of the animal inside.


“I’m not Ororo.” She stated, her voice seeming to echo in an unearthly manner. Flying closer to her former comrades, her eyes burning; white hot, she then bellowed, “I am Ka the Supreme Goddess!” With that Storm took to the rafters, small sparks of her lightening surrounding her like a force field. She looked down at them from her vantage point and readied herself for ‘her’ attack. The remaining X-Men sensed the danger and instantly. Through all of them ran the mixed emotions of knowing they would have to defend themselves from her but not being sure that they would be able to hurt her.


“What do we do Scott?” Jean asked, no, pleaded with her partner for an answer, a way they could face this threat without bringing their beloved Ororo to harm.


“Try to reach her Jean, try to get into her head and force her to fight the Shadow Kings control.” But he knew that wouldn’t be enough and added reluctantly, “In the mean time...we’ll just have to defend ourselves the best we can.” As he said this, Scott’s hand came up to the control button at the side of his visor, making it clear what he meant by defending themselves.


“NO!” Logan roared as he finally managed to take his painfully startled gaze from Ororo, turning on his heel and darting over to his leader. Wrenching Cyclops hand away from his lethal device, he raged, “You touch her an’ it’ll be you we’re takin’ back in a body bag bub!”


Scott pulled his hand from Wolverine’s grip, angry at him yes, but completely understanding his plight at the same time. If that where Jean up there...he shuddered to think. “Logan, I know how you feel, we love her too.” His eyebrows knitted above his visor as he tried to make Logan understand. “He’s taken over her mind and it looks like we’re in a position where it’s gonna be us or her---there’s more at stake here. Imagine what this bastard could do to the world with Ororo’s powers?”


Logan didn’t want to hear this, he turned to look back up at his wife, but noticed now that even her scent had changed somehow, tainted with the stain of that man. “Jeannie?” He turned to the telepath, but she shook her head ruefully.


“I’m sorry Logan...his hold, it’s...it’s too strong.” She looked up at Ororo as they all did. “Storm’s slipping away second by second.”


“Pitiful fools!” Their rest bite for debate was apparently over and the time for battle had begun as a shower of lightening bolts rained down on the X-Men. Perhaps a warning shot only though, as Storm’s usually accurate aim failed to touch a single one of them, but each of the four bolts did land perilously close, right at their feet in fact. They all jumped back, realising that next time they would not be so lucky.


“FALL BACK!” Cyclops ordered his soldiers, “Behind the pillars!” They all moved to his command, save for Logan, who stood his ground, though he did find it difficult as the wind picked up once again, knocking statues that dotted the room to the ground.


“‘RO! PLEASE DARLIN’, LISTEN TO ME!” He put his hand up to shield his eyes from the grit that was flying into his face, struggling to keep upright as the winds became stronger and stronger. “FIGHT HIM ‘RO! I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT BABY! PLEASE TRY!”


“LOGAN!” Jean called, peering around from the relative safety of the pillar, squinting in the face of the hurricane that the winds were becoming. “LOGAN, IT’S NO USE! GET BACK HERE, NOW!” But he refused her request, remaining where he was. Just then, Storm unleashed another bout of lightening bolts from the cloud that had now convened above her, one bolt landing so close that it sent Wolverine flying backwards through the air as it crashed into the floor beneath his feet. He came back down to the floor with a tremendous bang; adamantium frame connecting with the stone floor heavily. Cyclops instinctively ran from his cover to get to where Logan had fallen, noticing that the bolt hadn’t actually made contact much to his relief for they were going to need all hands on deck for this battle, the last thing he needed was for Wolverine to be out for the count again. Grabbing at Logan’s arm, Scott made an attempt to drag him to safety. But he was not so lucky as his teammate as another bolt came down, catching him in the arm and twisting him around several times like a spinning top.


“SCOTT!” Jean screamed as Cyclops fell to the ground besides Logan, his arm badly seared, but the rest of him seemed mercifully untouched. Summoning her telekinetic will, she dragged Scott along the floor and behind her temporary refuge. “Oh my god, Scott! Are you O.K?” Once he was close enough, she pulled him to her manually, cupping his pain contorted face with her hands.


“Yeah...yeah. Just about.” Scott said unconvincingly before sucking in a sharp breath as the pain shot up through his badly burned arm, travelling around every nerve in his body.


Bobby had seen enough, it was his time to act now. He didn’t know whether it would do much good, but all he could do was try. So he came from around the pillar, opposite where Jean was cradling Scott in her arms and immediately sent the strongest jet of ice that he could muster upwards towards Ororo. The ice stream cut like a sharp knife through Storm’s wind, knocking her backwards and momentarily cutting off her hail of lightening, which since the shot at Cyclops had ceased to stop. It halted her, but not for long as she flew back towards them until she was almost on top of them and there was no escape, no more hiding from her fury.


“There is no use in resisting X-Men!” Her ‘blinded’ eyes bore down on them and it seemed she was ready to make her fatal shot when suddenly, without warning, the winds died down and her concentration was pulled to something unseen. All four X-Men looked up at her, frozen from action, waiting for the final assault, but it never came. ~ “Yes master!”~ None of them understood her Arabian dialect, but all rightly assumed that she had just received a telepathic order from her controller as they watched her retreat to the back of the room once more, taking the violence of her storm with her. Obviously, the Shadow King had proved his point to his satisfaction; he did indeed have total control over Ororo, to the extent that he could make her attack her closest friends and her husband without a second thought.


They all watched as she disappeared back down the tunnel from which she’d emerged, a concealing wall falling back down to block its entrance as soon as she’d passed through. It was at that moment that Logan leapt back onto his feet, running towards the now solid wall, unsheathing his claws. “ORORO!” He growled as he came up to the offending block in his path, slashing at it wildly, but to no avail, he was only making the merest of chips in the extraordinarily thick brickwork. All he succeeded in doing was working himself up into another feral frenzy as he hacked and hacked and hacked...


*

In Cerebro...


# Wolverine! Wolverine, it is no use! # Charles tried his best to get through to the wayward X-Man, but even a man as determined as him knew when to let it lie and let nature work itself out. Logan’s mind was in too much of a fractured state again to respond to reason. He’d tire of it soon enough, when he realised that he had no hope of getting through that way.


Xavier had been in complete contact with his X-Men the whole time and had even tried to help Jean in her effort to get through to Ororo’s deeply submerged psyche. But the Shadow King was indeed more powerful than he’d imagined, and it seemed that Storm had given herself over so thoroughly that she was all but lost to them. In a strange way, Charles couldn’t help but admire her self-sacrifice and in all honesty, he wouldn’t have expected her to do anything other than hand herself over in order that Catherine would be protected, nobility was in her nature. But she didn’t realise the magnitude of the consequences of her selfless act.


He ran his thumb and index finger over his closed eyes, bringing them together at the bridge of his nose as his head drooped mournfully, the strain of the situation making it hard to keep the correct level of concentration. As Scott had remarked to Logan before the fight; if the Shadow King could maintain his control over the weather witch, the entire world would likely pay the price.


-TBC-





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