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Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


The students had been given the day off. Outside the sounds of laughter and happy children could be heard, but inside the X-Men’s War Room the air was heavy with silence, with questions and things best left unsaid.
Several sets of eyes flickered towards Ororo, who sat at the end of the long table, her hair pulled back, eyes shadowed with fatigue. Logan sat to her right, his strong fingers intertwined with her slender ones atop the dark oak. Gambit stood behind her, slightly to her left, his hand resting on her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze. Along the table sat her friends and teammates, her family, she thought, her gaze resting on each one of them: Bobby, Rogue, Betsy, Warren, Peter, Kitty, Jean and Scott. The only family she’d ever really had. They were all so different, yet so much the same, their mutant genes tying them together in a bond of brotherhood. Up until this very moment she had felt as connected to each of them as she was connected to the planet. But now…
Professor Charles Xavier had called an emergency meeting after Scott had filled him in on the details of their trip to California and the attack. His first statement dumbfounded them all.
“What do you mean, she’s not a mutant?” Scott Summer’s broke the silence, his serious gaze moving from Storm to the Professor. It had been less than twelve hours since the incident in San Francisco, and none of the X-men were in high spirits, and Xavier’s statement gave them even less to be cheerful about.
“I did not mean to imply that Storm was not a mutant, Cyclops,” The projected image of the Professor spoke.
“She does, in fact, carry the mutant genome.” he continued. “However, it is Storm’s second heritage that we need be concerned with. Ororo is descendant from a long line of priestesses and sorceresses. And I, along with Hank and Jean believe it is that skill, those powers that are emerging.”
“A heritage I have never explored, Charles,” Ororo interjected. “Why manifest now?”
“A good question, and one Beast believes he may have the answer to. Henry.” The image of the Professor flickered, replaced by the furry features of Henry McCoy. The hairy mutant pushed his glasses higher on his feline nose, his tone very soft and serious as he spoke.
“After last night, the Professor and I began to speculate on the reasons behind these attacks against you, Storm. Since Gambit has returned and revealed that he had not taken you to New Orleans in order to repay a debt, but instead stated that he felt you were not safe here at the institute, we deduced that there was another reason behind his actions. He was under a compulsion.” Henry said. Again several eyes flicked their way, some apologetic, others wary and still others down right distrustful.
Gambit’s fingers flexed on Ororo’s shoulder. She reached up and patted his hand reassuringly.
“What’s a compulsion?” Bobby asked.
“That’s Cajun fer bullshit,” Logan grumbled. Ororo glared at him, he glowered right back. They had spent a majority of last night arguing over Gambit, and it irked the shit out of him that she was steadfast loyal to the bum. Even if he believed the swamp-rat, and he wasn’t altogether one hundred percent on that, the bastard still ran out on her while she lay on the ground bleeding to death. He growled low in his throat, casting Gambit a narrowed look.
“A compulsion,” Professor Xavier said, “is a subliminal command. It is embedded deep in the subconscious and once activated it is almost impossible to ignore. A person is compelled to follow the hidden command. I have scanned Gambit‘s mind and indeed there is a subliminal message, though faint, deep in his subconscious.”
“Similar to the one you gave me as a girl?” Ororo asked in a dull voice. Every person in the room looked thunderstruck. Xavier was momentarily disconcerted, at a loss for words. “Do not fret, Charles. I accepted that small fact years ago, and I do not regret my southern journey through Africa that lead me to you. It did leave a lasting impression though, and I do know the results of a compulsion implanted in your mind.” She looked at each person at the table, leveling them with her intensity. “You can not fight it, it eats away at you, keeps you up nights, drives you until you must obey, or go crazy.”
“Uh, yes,” Xavier said, looking slightly flustered. “That is what a compulsion does.”
After another momentary pause, Beast said, “Taking that into consideration we had to determine who would have the power to implant something like that in Gambit’s mind. Mentally scanning for other mutants revealed nothing, however I remembered that after the return from New Orleans Jean revealed that one of your attackers, Storm, was not a mutant, but something else entirely.”
Ororo looked at Jean inquiringly. “It was difficult to place,” Jean stated. “Because it was not a mutant, but it wasn’t human either. The only other time I have felt anything like that was while I was traveling through the galaxies as the Phoenix. I once traveled through a black hole and all around me I got the same kind of mental impression, although not as wholly malevolent as the caped figure in New Orleans, but eerily similar.”
“Yes, but what about the letter Ah got in the mail? What about Sabertooth and Mystique?” Rogue asked, her hazel eyes watching Gambit warily.
“Like I told, Stormy. Gambit would never do dat to her, much less be stupid enough t’ leave a letter announcing my plans.”
Rogue tossed the letter onto the table. “Look at it, Gambit. It’s your handwriting.”
“For Christ’s sake can we get off the letter,” Wolverine growled, irritated. “I appreciate that you and Gumbo are having a bit of a lover’s quarrel here, darlin’, and forgive me fer not bein’ a wee bit more sensitive t’ that fact, but we’ve got slightly bigger issues t’ deal with.”
Rogue looked away, her face flushed.
“I believe that Sabertooth and Mystique were duped in much the same fashion that we were,” Henry continued. “A command, a compulsion, a tip-off, any number of ploys to get them to New Orleans.”
“For what reason?” Scott asked.
“To kill Storm.” Henry said baldly.
“Non,” Gambit interjected. “Mystique said dat dey were under strict orders not t’ kill ‘er.”
“Then the attack was to weaken her.” Jean supposed. “But Sabertooth got carried away and killed her.”
“You mean nearly killed her.” Kitty corrected.
“No. She means killed me, Kitten.” Ororo said softly. “I died.”
Again a heavy silence filled the War Room. Logan turned his head, gazing at Ororo in surprise. She had never said anything to him about that night, except for the one comment she made that morning by the lake, when she had breathed “I came back for you.” Had she really come back from the dead for him? He felt his heart hitch. He tightened his grip on her hand and leaned into her, kissing her hair softly. “I love ya, darlin’” he murmured into her ear. Ororo leaned into his side, comforted by his strong presence.
“Interesting,” Beast was saying. “You remember dying?”
“Yes.”
“What can you tell us?” he asked.
Ororo looked around the room, and though she loved everyone in it, she was hesitant to speak of her experience. “I would rather not,” she said honestly.
“Ororo I can understand if it is painful for you to speak of, in spite of this, I must ask that you give us as much information as possible, in order to better understand what we are dealing with here.” Xavier interceded.
“How will my experience with death give you a better understanding of the creatures we are facing?”
“She doesn’t wanna talk about it, Chuck. Let it go.” Logan rumbled.
“Storm, we need as much information as you can give us. Anything that may help us understand what we are dealing with and why they want you dead so bad,” Scott spoke up, ignoring the warning growl issued from Wolverine.
Ororo sighed heavily. After a moment she began, “Dying was easy. All I had to do was let go. Of my fear, of my reservations, of myself. There was light all around me and warmth, so warm. There was the feeling of being disconnected and yet connected to everything. Freedom in its purist form.” She took a deep breath. “Then there was my mother. She was so beautiful,” Ororo’s eyes closed, he mouth curving in a soft smile. “An angel, I thought. To guide me home. But I did not go with her. So I let her go…again.” She opened her damp eyes, fixing them on Logan. “My heart refused to let go of this world completely.”
She turned to the rest of the room. “There is a void, between this world and the next. A black void filled with cold and dark and terror and pain. It does not hurt to pass through it on the way in, but to come back through it…” she shivered involuntarily. “It eats at you, tears your mind apart. I relived every wound inflicted on me, ten fold, and I remember finally pushing through the void, the relief I felt and then the next thing I remember is Logan. Holding me.”
“My God,” Jean said, wiping her eyes.
“Does that help at all?” Ororo asked, her voice raw.
“Actually, Ororo, yes it does.” Xavier said softly. “ I apologize for making you relive those moments. It does indeed help us though.” There was a pause as the Professor rustled through some documents that the X-men in the War Room could not see on their 3-D viewer. “I have here an old sorcerer’s book Illyana left me. I decided to look through it once I began to suspect that Ororo may be experiencing some effects of sorcery.” The room grew quite as the team remembered their fallen friend, Peter’s younger sister Magik. Ororo gave him a gentle smile and he returned it, well past the healing, remembering his beloved sister in fondness.
“It is a book she stole from Belasco.” Pages turning. “In it, he wrote of a sorceress so powerful that she would be able to open a doorway between the living and the realm of death. A wielder of magic so formidable that she would be impossible to defeat, unless killed before she fully developed her skills. A sorceress that will bring about the end of mankind.“ Xavier paused, brow furrowed. “He writes that this sorceress does not dwell in his time or his dimension, but he gives dimensional coordinates as to where he suspects her to be.” More pages turning. “It’s our Earth. Our time.” Xavier said, still reading. “Belasco also writes of a breed of demon, an enemy to the N'Garai called Daemonites. He describes them as the scourge of all possible universes.” Xavier holds up the book, exposing a picture to the camera, allowing everyone in the War Room to get a good look at the sketch in the book.
The creature was hideous looking, with a long narrow body, claws on it’s hands and feet, three sets of eyes, a forked tongue and wings like a bat.
“Goddess.” Ororo whispered.
“Seen it.” Wolverine stated, voice like ice.
“Me too.” Rogue added. “In mah head when that snake thingy attached itself ta me. Ah saw that thing in mah mind. It kept screaming for the doorway.” She glanced at Ororo guardedly.
“What? Surely you do not think I am this all powerful sorceress? The destroyer of mankind?” Ororo looked around the room at the uncertain faces surrounding her. “Do you?” she questioned quietly.
“Naw. Destroying the universe is Jean’s gig,” Bobby tried to joke, earning himself several contemptuous looks and a mental pinch from Jean. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It is a good possibility that these creatures believe that to be the case,” Henry stated, sidestepping the question. His evasion did not go unnoticed by Storm, whose grip on Logan’s hand became almost painful.
“So, what’re ya saying, Chuck? These demons set up Gumbo, set a trap to capture ‘Ro, but not t’ kill her, only t’ change their minds and want her dead? Don’t make sense.” Logan said shaking his head.
“No. What I believe has happened is that the N’Garai set the plan to capture Storm into motion, and it is them that are trying to keep the Daemonites from killing her.”
“Why? I mean I know N’Garais and they are evil. Pure evil,” said Kitty. “and those Daemon-thingy-magiggies don’t look too friendly either. Why would one race of demons protect Storm from the other?”
“Not protect, Katherine. Prevent. The Daemonites want her dead.” Scott said. “It is a smart tactical move on their part.”
“Excuse me?” Kitty gasped.
“Imagine if the F.O.H had a weapon capable of wiping out all mutants, of opening a door and shoving them all through it never to return. Wouldn’t you want to prevent them from using it. Storm is a weapon to the N’Garai, a powerful one at that, capable of wiping out the scourge of all universes by opening a doorway to a different dimension, including a death dimension and shoving them through it.”
“But, Scott, Charles, this theory is all contingent on me being an all powerful sorceress capable of opening portals between realms, which I can not. I would not even know how.” Storm argued.
“Ahh, but you already did.” Xavier said gravely.
Except for the occasional shuffle of feet or the clearing of a throat, a weighty silence filled the X-men’s War Room as each member surrounding the long rectangular table digested the information Professor Charles Xavier had just fed them.
Ororo sat shaking her head in denial, but a part of her recognized what Xavier was saying as the truth. Goddess, what was she going to do?





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