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| What If...? 2099UG Issue #4 Written by Chris Burns and Chris Lough |
| The 2099 Underground is a project whereby a group of fans are putting together a series of stories continuing from Marvel's fantastic futuristic 2099! Ignoring the ignoble and inaccurate "2099: World of Tomorrow", we're exploring what we feel is the true spirit of 2099 as envisioned by then Editor-in-Chief Joey Cavalieri. Participation is open to all. Comments about this issue should be sent to the author. Or you can visit our message board and post your thoughts on the issue. Anyone wishing to join the mailing list should do so by signing up at Yahoo! Groups. It's free and easy! Simply type in the keyword "Ghostworks" and you're good to go. |
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| PROLOGUE: I am the Surveyor, and my time grows short. I stand here, 500 feet below the surface of Mars looking at a wall a mile long filled with small vidscreens. Each of them is a window to what could have been, exploring the possibilities with growing inaccuracy. It has been two weeks since our mother corporation Alchemax ceased the transmissions that would enable the Master Computer here to accurately predict the future mathematically. I am alone here, and truth be told, if I died tomorrow the only one who would mourn me is Marionette-1, a robot that I myself programmed. Several times lately I have asked myself why I came here to this secret facility below the Mars One Colony. Today, as I stand here seeing it all slipping away, I can admit my true motivations. I want answers. I have never known the love of a family, or the caring embrace of a wife. I had never dated, nor enjoyed popularity, or even really been happy. I had grown up fast, and grown up empty. For this I blame no single entity, but rather society as a whole. It is a dark age we live in, one in which there seems to be no reason to exist. Several months ago I had looked within myself to find some reason, and frankly saw nothing I could be proud of. That was when he found me. Tyler Stone had sent a cyborg executive assistant named Winston to search New York for a man that would never be missed. He found me. Tyler had then brought me to Alchemax HQ and told me of an opportunity of a lifetime. Stone's speech seemed rehearsed, but I was intrigued anyway. He told me that my programming background could enable Alchemax to break the status quo. He showed me a dream of creating a computer that would predict the future. I sold my soul that day and gave up my identity. And I daresay I have not been missed by anyone. With the finances of a megacorp behind me, I created the ultimate timeline prediction program originally postulated by Asimov. With Stone's R&D department's prototype computer I could foretell world events, and with my predictive powers Alchemax became the top megacorp in the world. With the growing success of my program, Tyler Stone became fearful that the CEO of Stark- Fujikawa would discover that he was acting just slightly outside the lines the honor of their professional warfare. Stone also wished to expand the capacity of my program, so he came up with a single solution to resolve all of his problems. With Alchemax procuring the rights to build a colony on Mars, he decided that he would build a complex deep beneath its surface (what would later be called Mars One), and in that complex he would place the largest, fastest bio gel computer ever built by man. He envisioned a computer that would constantly receive updated data from all over the world, process it, and give him the edge over Alchemax's enemies. The result was this complex. CODENAME: UATU PROJECT. It took a long time, but a few months ago UATU was finally ready to receive me. In a secret shipment, I arrived at Mars One, gained access to UATU, and sealed myself inside. No one was the wiser. With my program in place, I activated the computer. I figured that the last few months in 2099 had introduced several variables that could alter my earlier predictions. What I found instead was that my earlier calculations were missing vital data. Though the data was not what was foremost in my mind. UATU was predicting the end of the world in the year 2012. I tried to contact Alchemax, but Stone had been unusually distracted and paid little heed to my warnings. At first, I did not care. After all, what has the world ever done for me? Nothing. However, as I thought about it, I realized that I am the only human who knew the danger, and that for the first time in my life I had the ability to make a difference. I decided that if the world was going to be destroyed, perhaps I could use this program of mine to find a solution. So, I programmed a companion for conversation I called Marionette-1, and in my free time I used the historical data banks of the computer to create what I call Alternate Timeline Models (or ATMs) which would answer the questions of WHAT IF things had played out differently. I have run though thousands of such models but unfortunately Alchemax chose to ignore a warning I gave them about an impending attack by Stark Fujikawa (see UG's Fall of Alchemax storyline). What ensued was the end of my data supply and an increasing inaccuracy in my predictions. So I do all that I can. I am the Surveyor, and my time grows short. I stand here, 500 feet below the surface of Mars looking at a wall a mile long filled with small vidscreens. "Sir?" I know who speaks to me. Marrionette is the only one who will ever be able to speak to me now. "Yes Marrionette?" "Have you found what you are looking for?" "No Mari, I have not." "I came to remind you we have only one hour before your accuracy will drop below 90%. And after that, the effect will be exponential. We will not be able to rely on any results after that point." "Thank you Mari. I had not forgotten. Perhaps we will play a game of chess once that hour expires?" "I think I would treasure such an experience sir." And with that Marionette departs. I turn in may chair and lean back, allowing it to recline. My eyes close and I have a daydream of sun on my face and the sound of a brook in my ears. A klaxon suddenly sounds in my ears and I bolt upright, concern filling my mind. There is only one circumstance that would cause this system to react in this way. The computer has found a historical focal point! A circumstance, that could have happened in recent history, that could have prevented the impending destruction of life on the earth. If this is what I think it is there might still be time. I roll my chair towards a flashing vidscreen. A message is flashing on it: CONVERGENCE DETECTED. 0800 HRS JUNE 6th, 2097. PRESS ENTER FOR REVIEW. Wow. Two years. That is farther in the past than I had hoped. Resolution is exponentially more difficult the further back the problem occurs as such a convergence has more opportunity to affect other critical junctures. I press enter. ******************************** "What if the Domino Crash of 2097 had succeeded?" ******************************** Five individuals crawled to the cliff's edge to look down the steep incline. Hundreds of feet below, a small collection of tents and shacks were huddled atop the ruins of a much older community. Through binoculars, the five of them could make out people against the backdrop of the makeshift village. The villagers hurried about their tasks, carrying bundles here and there, tending to budding gardens. The ones who moved about tended to stick close to the dwellings, using them as a surreptitious sort of cover. It spoke of a strong paranoia in the air. "Are you sure this is a good idea Xi'an?" "Yes Eddie," replied a strong looking man with skin tanned golden by the harsh light of the sun. He pulled the binoculars from his face to reveal dark almond-shaped eyes. With his other hand he wiped the sweat from his brow. "But if we are to ever re-establish civilization, my friend, it will take the uniting of splinter groups like this one with the rest of us." "And what if they would rather not be 'united'?", asked a lithe blond girl on the other side of Xi'an. "Then we leave them in peace, Tina. I am not out to conquer. I am here to share our dream." And with that, Xi'an stands, his four companions doing the same. As a group, they begin to slowly make their way down the mesa. * * * The heat of the desert beats mercilessly down upon the land during the day. The day, however, must end, and the heat escapes as night encroaches. The gentle dark blue of dusk paints the cloudless sky, a few twinkling stars dotting the incoming black on the horizon. Breezes stir the brush and dirt around as the day's heat escapes into the atmosphere. One such breeze claims a tumbleweed, tames it, and sends it into the random dance of a marionette. Swiftly but sporadically it rolls, driven, yet powerless. After a time the wayward plant drifts towards the semi-nomadic camp of humans. It bypasses all of the sentries and leaps at a single sleeping guard. The rough touch of the floral invader takes him by suprise and he comes awake with a start. Groggily, his mind rushes to identify the threat even as he reaches for his weapon. His questing fingers clumsily bump the crossbow at his side. It teeters, falling away from his grasp. For an instant, panic grabs him and he leaps up with a sharp yell. The tumbleweed, unconcerned, falls from his lap. He stands there frozen, looking down in terror at...a tumbleweed. From around, he hears the nearby guards burst with laughter. A few of them crack jokes, but he laughs along with them as the blood rushes to his face. Behind him, the breeze once again claims it's prize. Now fully awake, the guard wipes his sweat-drenched brow, his smile lingering as he scans the horizon. The camp to his back, he looks outward to the familiar landscape. He is not suprised to see the shadows of wildlife darting from the brush. The night makes a perfect cover for a hungry animal. He begins to turn his attention back to the camp when something catches his eye. He looks again and lets his gaze linger as he struggles to focus in. At first he nearly convinces himself he imagined it, but with a little time he sees it again. Five shadowlike apparations begin to crest a nearby dune as if floating to the top of a mirage. As he watches the shadows rise and take shape, and his mouth drops open. Wasting no time, he reaches down for his weapon and sounds the alarm. "Quickly!", the guard yells. "Call Paul-Phillip! Intruders approaching!" * * * The guard's alarm travels quickly through the camp. Pouring from nowhere, hundreds of villagers gather towards the gate. No one says a word as they look toward the approaching invaders. They do not need to. They have all faced life and death together and they know that whatever this ill wind has blown their way, they will face it as a family. If these nomadic people can be called a family, then Paul-Phillip is their father, their brother, their beloved son. He approaches and the crowd parts, not out of fear, but love and loyalty. His strides are long and steady, befitting his muscular build. He exudes power and purpose. With each step his long red hair sways behind his back. The villager's respect for him is obvious. He comes to the head of the assembly and his gaze follows that of his people. His gaze rests on the approaching intruders, the eyes on his gaunt face narrowing. The falling dusk hides much, though. Wanting a better look, he snaps his fingers, and one of the guards places a set of binoculars in his outstretched hand. The guards train their weapons on the individuals walking towards the camp. Their arms locked tight, the crossbows raised to their eyes. When the alarm had first been called, Paul-Phillip had expected a band of armed desert raiders. What he sees instead are five individuals...three men and two women dressed in uniforms of blue and red, each sporting a symbol of an "X" within a circle somewhere on their uniform. Their presence unnerves him. Perhaps this is the prelude to an attack? A ploy simply meant to distract them from a group of raiders massing around them? It has been a long time since anyone has braved one of their camps. Those who had long ago were caused to regret it, but this quintet comes without fear. In his heart, Paul-Philip knows he would have much preferred the desert raiders. If confidence comes from power, then these few are powerful indeed. His vision is first drawn to the man in the center, an asian. He carries himself as a leader, strong and confident in the loyalty of those with him. To his left walks the most stunning woman Paul-Phillip had ever seen in his life. Her form is lithe and toned with a silent strength. Jet black hair falls over smooth tanned shoulders, but it is her eyes that Paul-Phillip could fall into. He finds experience there, enough to harden the soul, but also pride, beauty, intellegence. Her face belies no emotion, but she is inviting and soft all the same. He pulls the goggles from his eyes as he realizes the effect she is having on him, unwilling to let a spur of infatuation to interfere with his duty. The others standing behind these two but are no less impressive. The tallest of the band is a well muscled man standing at an impressive 6' 7". His ebony hair, like Paul-Phillip's, is long and hangs down his back. He has the look of a bodyguard that would die with but a word from his leader. The man standing next to him was perhaps the shortest of the group. And the most unsettling. His red hair was mussed and windblown and his garments were in similar dissaray. His face was painted a stark white, with black designs appearing symetrically. His face was grim, but in the presence of his four companions, he seemed less of a true threat. The last of the five was slender, but nearly too much so. Where the other had hair the color of midnight, this one had hair the color of gold, short and unruly. Where the other showed strength, this one showed a softness that didn't really belong in such a hard world. Paul-Philip took a deep breath and sighed, lowering his binoculars. He was probably going to regret this. "Bring them in," his deep, commanding voice boomed. "Alive." * * * Bound and kneeling, the five individuals looked up at Paul-Philip. He and the other villagers were gathered around a large permacrete building, the only structure that remained from the city that had once been there. The city that now stood like a ghost around them. The villagers respectfully kept their distance. The guards still had their weapons trained on the five. The red-haired one squirmed uncomfortably in his shackles. The blond woman looked eagerly at Paul-Philip. The rest were as stone, waiting patiently. Pau-Philip stood before them like a judge, pacing back and forth anxiously. These five made him curious. They had agreed to be bound and brought to the center of the village for questioning. They had assented without any struggle. Either they were entirely confident of their power over him, or they were...something else. Clearing his throat, he began. "You're alive because you've piqued my interest. If breathing is important to you, I suggest you satisfy my curiosity." He stopped in front of the asian one. "Who the shock are you people?" The almond-eyed leader lifted his head towards PaulPhilip, his voice remained even and non-threatening. "I am Xi'an Chi Xan." There is a gasp that rumbles through those assembled and Paul-Phillip's eyes go wide. Here before him, in the very heart of their camp, is the Desert Ghost. One of THEM. A mutant. Not just a regular mutant, though. One wanted by nearly every human resistance cell in the world. Angry voices poured from the crowd, more than one villager advocating violence. His head spun. He had the Desert Ghost right in front of him. He could finish him off right now. But...he, or his friends, weren't trying to escape. There was still something odd about the situation, something he couldn't put his finger on. Seemingly undaunted by the crowd, Xi'an continued. "Yes, I am he who you have come to fear, even hate. I am a mutant and I come to speak with you, Paul-Phillip Ravage. I know I and my friends are not alive because I have 'piqued your interest'. Rather, we are alive because you are a good man, a brave man that abhors violence even when it is necessary." Where did this mutant get off telling him that? What was Chi Xan playing at? Ravage frowned, this mutant was trying to play games with him. "What could you possibly know of me, mutant?" "I know more about you than you know. I know that you, Paul-Phillip Ravage, were once a Green Beret, fighting in the decade long Pollution Wars on the side of the megacorps. I know that you fought for a dream then...the promise of cleaner technology and a better tommorow. I know that you are the single hero that brought about the fall of the Federation of Constitutional Governments, and that your bravery alone saved hundreds of thousands from death at the hands of the Polluters." Ravage stared in wonder. "How do you know all of this? How..." Xi'an continued. "I also know that two years ago, the civilization that you helped build began to show signs of corruption. Alchemax made you commander of the ECO, and just when you thought you could make a difference, it all came crashing down. The Domino Crash flung mankind back hundreds of years, into a second dark age. And all you could was stand by helplessly." Yes. Those had been bitter times. His own love Tiana had died during the Domino Crash, when technology all around the world blinked out. When life-saving machines become useless collections of wire and metal. Tiana had been in the hospital when it happened. He had been...who knows where. Nowhere near as important as being at Tiana's side was. Ravage felt his eyes water, he blinked angrily. The hospital had not even been able to call him and tell him she was dead... "I hope there is a point to this little history lesson, Ghost," he said harshly, his voice cracking slightly. "There is. With the loss of technology and veritable destruction of the world around us, humans have become easy prey for renegade bands of mutants. The land has become a battleground for the principals of Darwinism. Without technology to protect you, many humans have become slaves, or worse, for mutant masters." "You are not helping your case here, mutant. Your time is running out." "We have come to help," Xi'an stated simply. "Mutant or human, injustice and prejudice are still rampant throughout the world. The distinctions between mutants and humans must end." "Hah!" Ravage laughed. "And so you've come to us, offering your services as our savior?" Ravage's tone became bitter. "Where were you, mutant, when we fled into the desert to protect ourselves? Where were you when our children were starving? We have made a good existence here without the help of mutants. What could you offer us that we do not already have?" "A dream." "A dream? Will that keep you warm at night? Will it feed you?" "Yes it can, and has!", said the well-muscled mutant behind shackled behind Xi'an. "Under Xi'an's leadership we have all of that." Ravage gave the mutants an annoyed look. "Then tell me mutants, what is this dream?" With a calm assertion, the raven-haired woman spoke up. Ravage's gaze fell to her, though he tried not to meet her eye-to-eye. He saw more in those eyes than he wanted to. "Over one hundred years ago, during the Heroic Age, there existed a man. His name was Charles Xavier and he believed that the only way to insure a prosperous and enlightened future was to work to foster coexistence between human and mutant." Her tone was low, but carried through the crowd all the same. "Though he is dead, his belief, his dream, lives on. To survive this, we must unite as one people." Ravage rolled his eyes, his voice excited and unbelieving. "It can't be done! Are you shocking fragged? The net cannot be re-built. Technology is skittish at best. What kind of civilization can you possibly offer us?" For the first time since arriving, Xi'an smiled. "We can show you, Paul-Phillip Ravage. All of you. Let us bring you to Avalon." * * * "Ravage says you get to stay in our guest suite," the guard sneered as the five mutants walked calmly into the cell, the shackles still binding their wrists. The metal bars swung into place with a loud clank. A metal bar was placed over the gate. Three guards took up position facing the cell. "Someone'll come for you in the morning. You try anything funny 'n you get a crossbow quarrel through your head," the surly guard walked towards the doorway, leaving the other three to watch over the mutants. "Breakfast is at dawn. If you have to go to the bathroom try the corner." One of the guards smiled at the remark. The surly one barked a laugh. "Pleasant dreams." An hour later the surly guard walked from a low-roofed hut with something grey in his hand. Calmly he made his way towards the outskirts of the village, his crossbow swinging from his belt. The grey thing in his hand cooed and warbled. The guard petted it a few times. Night had come to the desert and most of the villagers were asleep. The guard looked around cautiously, better to be safe. Gingerly, the guard lifted the pigeon to eye-level and checked the paper wrapped around one of its legs. Satisfied that it wouldn't come loose, he released the pigeon into the air. With a soft flapping of its wings, it took flight, quickly vanishing into the eastern sky. * * * The chill of the night evaporated quickly in the rising heat of the morning. Xi'an and the four mutants were once again seated on the ground before the permacrete building. To their credit, most of them looked well-rested, despite being locked in a cramped cell for the night. The blond woman and the red-headed man had a hard time surpressing yawns, though. The villagers were gathered in a circle around them, the crowd growing as more and more of them came to hear Ravage's announcement. To Xi'an, the crowd seemed to have gotten closer to the mutants, as if their inaction had convinced the surlier of the bunch that "the muties weren't so tough." "Is everyone here?", Ravage cried out in a haggard voice. There were visible bags under his eyes, and he seemed slower that he had been yesterday. Ravage peered over the crowd, he couldn't tell if all of the villagers had arrived, but it looked close enough. "Listen up, everyone. There's some important things to be said," Ravage called out. He looked down at Xi'an. "I was up all night because of you." XI'an cocked his head to the side. "That was not my intention, though I take it that means you have given ample thought to my words." "You can shockin' bet on it. So, this Avalon is real, huh? A real working city with electricity and working machines and everything we had two years ago?" "Not everything," Xi'an answered. "You mutants confuse me," Ravage continued. "You confuse me so much I can't sleep. You know what I think? I think you're lying." Xi'an accepted the words as if he had heard them a thousand times before. "If that is what you think, then nothing we can say will change your mind." Ravage stared at Xi'an for a moment before continuing. "But...it's not your fault you're a mutant. Bad people are bad people, whatever they can do. Shock, back before the Crash it was the same as today, except we had electricity and the corps were doing the pillaging." "The corps did more damage than any mutant has ever done," Eddie abruptly spoke. To Xi'an's surprise, Ravage nooded. "True enough, more than true enough. But like I said, bad people are bad people, and I don't know what you are." "Are you saying that you'd give up civilization just because you don't trust a handful of mu...," the blond one blurted out. "I'm not done talking," Ravage interrupted sternly. "Mutant or human, real or no, this 'Avalon' you're talking about sounds like something we haven't had here in a long time: hope. And although the circumstances aren't favorable, I'm coming with you." Xi'an allowed himself a smile. This was more than he'd hoped for... "But I have one condition," Ravage continued. "Which is?" "The village is coming, too," Ravage said, looking out at the villagers. Xi'an swung his head around to peer at the villagers. Most of them seemed surprised by Paul-Philip's proclamation. None of them spoke a word in argument, though. A silent testament to the unwavering loyalty that Ravage commanded from these people. Xi'an was truly impressed. "I understand." And he did. Although a village of hundreds would leave a large trail to follow. Five mutants weren't likely to be able to successfully betray such a large group. Especially not one with a focused and combat-experienced leader. "If you like," Xi'an continued. "We will assist you in your exodus." "We'll see," Ravage said. "We'll see." * * * He brushed back the door cover to the large tent, his unruly red hair getting in his eyes. The interior of the tent was dark, save for a single bullseye lanter that hung over a desk. The lantern shone a single light down on the desk, illuminating a jumbled array of maps, its light framing a hunched over man with dark black hair. He had a military crew cut and a flight jacket from one of the old megacorps on. A red beret sat beside him on the desk. The man at the desk turned around sharply as heard the rustling cloth of the tent. His eyes were hard and foreboding and his gaze affixed itself straight on the newcomer. Upon seeing the carrot-topped messenger, his countenance softened a little and he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Matt,” the man at the desk said in a gruff voice. “Come in. What are you doing up at this hour?" The red headed man responded jovially. "I could be asking you the same thing, Jake." "I couldn't sleep." Matt nodded knowingly and sat down. "I heard what you did to Kron." "You’re wondering why I executed one of the best mutant killers I’ve ever known?", Jake stated bluntly. “Not wondering, really. Just…curious.” “As to why I didn’t stop him sooner…,” Jake muttered to himself. “Kron had no friends here, I know that. But he was the best there was at what he did.” “Although what he did wasn’t very nice,” Matt interjected. “Though I don’t imagine that makes it any easier for you.” "I killed him to protect a mutant girl!”, Jake yelled suddenly. “I killed my own man for the enemy! What kind of leader does that make me?" “The kind who believes in justice, first and foremost. Kron knew the rules. Just because we hunt mutants doesn’t make us above the law,” Matt explained. “Kron was a sadist and a rapist. It was only a matter of time before that animal would have to be put down.” "I just wish I had never heard of Homo Superior." Gallows rubbed his temples. “Is that all you came to talk to me about?” “No,” Matt said quietly as he rifled through his pockets, eventually he pulled out a piece of paper. “This arrived by carrier pigeon an hour ago. It’s from our plant in Ravage’s camp.” Jake took the paper calmly and scanned it. Even in the dim light of the tent, Matt could see his leader’s eyes go wide and his face light up. Matt was having a hard time surpressing a smile, himself. “They’ve got the Desert Ghost,” Jake said in awe, a manic grin slowly spreading on his face. Suddenly, the grin turned to a frown. “They’re only holding him, though. Don’t they know who they have? Probably the biggest mutant figurehead around! This guy’s attacked so many camps we’ve lost count. Why is he just holding him?” “Apparently because of this ‘Avalon’ that the note mentions,” Matt replied. Jake read on, grunting. “Oh yeah, here it is. Xi’an Chi Xan promises to take them all to a magical working city called Avalon.” Jake placed the note on the desk. “Ravage is an idealistic fool, he’ll snap up Chi Xan’s offer like that.” Jake snapped his fingers. “And then when he finds out Avalon is probably a mass grave for humans, it’ll be too late.” “His camp is about forty miles west of us. Should I wake the troops?” Jake nodded. “Yeah, tell the boys to break camp. We’ll have to push to catch up to Ravage.” Jake paused, smiling. “But it’ll be worth it to see the look on that mutie’s face when we come charging in.” * * * Ravage looked back wistfully as the band of villagers left their dwellings behind. Many of them had wanted to take the houses themselves, but there was no time, and no way to carry them. Horses and mules were all but impossible to come by these days, with the animal epidemic of long ago. Only the strongest camps had them, and those animals had most likely been taken from raiders. There were hundreds of them, zig-zagging their way across the desert and the plains. Pushing wheelbarrows or hoisting large bundles on their backs. Each man, woman, and child carried their entire life with them. Ravage looked back at Xi’an, who walked with him at the head of the party. “So are you going to tell me where Avalon is, or is it just ‘west’?” “We are not far from Avalon, it is three days, walking,” Xi’an answered. “Avalon was called Las Vegas before the Domino Crash.” Ravage was surprised. “Vegas? We’re going to Vegas? Humanity’s salvation lies in VEGAS? Your story is getting weirder all the time, Chi Xan.” “I admit the notion seems preposterous,” Xi’an nodded. “But once you see it, your doubts will be wiped away.” Ravage did not reply, and the two walked in silence for a time as the camp made its way west under the noon sun. “So what made you stop attacking human encampents and start building a city?”, Ravage suddenly remarked, staring ahead. Xi’an sighed, his reputation outside Avalon was a constant hindrance to his mission. “That is a misconception. I attack only those who prey on others. I believe mutants and humans alike have a responsibility towards each other. I seek not to rebuild the society of old. We have been given a wondrous opportunity to rise up from our baser instincts and truly evolve as a species. I do attack humans, but only those who would harm others.” Ravage was unbelieving. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen the settlements you’ve attacked. I’ve seen the deserted huts and the scattered posessions lying about. I’ve seen the scavengers move in and clean out what you left behind.” “Yes, I imagine those settlements looked much like your village does now.” Xi’an’s remark was not lost on Ravage. Paul-Philip fell silent once again. It seemed Xi’an had a logical answer for everything. He wanted to believe the mutant, he did. He was afraid, though, afraid to take Xi’an seriously. It was better to reject the hope Xi’an was offering than to let it build up inside him. He had to keep his head straight. If not for himself, then for the hundreds behind him. * * * “What’s wrong with your face?”, the child asked as the red-haired mutant dragged a small wheelbarrow full of belongings behind him. He looked down at the little girl who had asked the question. She couldn’t have been more than eight, with dark flowing hair and a tiny bright smile. She reminded him of Reiko. He smiled back. “There’s nothing wrong with it, I’m just wearing face paint.” The girl seemed not to care anymore, beside him Tina was giggling quietly, her shaggy blond hair tied back into a small ponytail. “What’s your name?”, the child asked. “I’m called Skullfire,” he answered. “Your mom named you that?” “No, he thought that one up all by himself,” Tina answered, Skullfire frowned at her. “No, my mom named me Tim,” he answered. “Oh,” the girl said. “My name is Shana.” “It’s nice to meet you, Shana,” Tina responded. Tina was good with kids, probably because she acted like one half the time. “Whatcha carrying?”, Shana asked. The little girl was full of questions and inquisitive looks. “Oh this?”, Tim nodded his head towards the wheelbarrow he was dragging. Tina herself had a bundle over her shoulder. “Someone in your village is very sick, so we’re carrying his stuff while my friends help him.” “Ohhhhh,” Shana said. “Is he going to be alright?” “We hope so,” Tina answered. “Shana!”, a panicked voice cried out from ahead of them. “Shana get over here right now!” A short woman in her late 30’s barged through the people in front of them, storming up to the little girl. “Oh it’s alright, ma’am. She’s not bothering us,” Tim said. The woman just gave them an acidic look and grabbed her daughter’s arm. The child cried as her mother dragged her away from them. “I told you not to go near those two. They’re dangerous,” Tim could heard the woman scolding the child as they walked away. Tim sighed and looked at Tina. She smiled, trying to cheer him up. “Don’t take it too personally, Fitz,” she said. “Just wait’ll they see Avalon.” * * * Sweat covered Eddie as he pushed the gurney onwards. He gripped the handles so hard that it looked like nothing but the will of god itself would pry his hands away. His muscles heaved as he walked, but his face gave no indication that what he was doing was difficult in any way. The gurney held an old and infirmed man. The man could not walk, so Eddie had offered to carry him. The makeshift gurney was sturdy enough to withstand the landscape, and a hastily erected canopy hung above the old man to block out the blistering heat and light of the sun. Shakti walked beside them both, she had tended to the old man’s disease as best she knew how. Fortifying his body for the three day trip. The old man’s wife walked with Shakti, grateful for the help the two were giving her husband. “Edward, do not push yourself too hard,” Shakti warned. “You will do no one any good if you do.” “Do not worry, Shakti,” Eddie’s low voice rumbled in the air. “I can handle this without my powers.” Shakti’s eyebrows lowered in concern. “Don’t over-exert yourself simply because the villagers fear mutants. This man’s life is in our hands, do not be foolish.” “I would rather not give these people more reason to hate us,” Eddie responded. “Listen to your friend,” the old woman interrupted. “Don’t be an idiot. If anyone comes to start any trouble they’ll have to deal with me.” The old woman’s face was set in a stubborn righteousness. “Very well,” Eddie relented. “I will shift forms when I need to. But only when I need to.” “That’s all we ask,” Shakti said. * * * Embers and splinters floated from the fire as Ravage and the five mutants stretched out on the ground around it. The camp had stopped for the night and food had been rationed out. They sat calmly on the ground now, resting their joints and muscles, preparing themselves for another hard day ahead. The villagers had not covered as much ground as Xi’an had hoped, but it would be enough. “Now you’re just outright lying to me,” Ravage said in an inredulous tone. Avalon has electricity? It has a running power plant?” “Through plain luck more than engineering,” Tim explained. “Me and my fiancee Reiko were in Vegas on vacation when everything crashed.” “Yeah, after everything went black Tim was getting funny looks because whatever he was around would light up like it was powered again. He had no idea what was going on until he found out he was a mutant,” Tina laughed. “My body stores and redirects ambient electricity,” Tim finished. “And when Xi’an and the X-men came to Vegas they found out about me and worked with Desdemona to restore the mechanics of the power plant. They were able to use me to kick-start the power plant back up.” “Who’s Desdemona? Wait…shouldn’t your mechanics have been rendered inoperable?”, Ravage asked. “Desdemona is my wife,” Xi’an stated. “She is the daughter of the late Noah Synge. The Synge family had a monopoly over the business in Las Vegas and the desert around. He was notoriously anti-corp, he insisted Las Vegas be self-dependent from the rest of the corp-controlled nation. The irony is that his economical greed was mostly the reason why Las Vegas remained largely intact after the Crash.” “So how’d you get involved in all of this?” Shakti was the one who spoke up first. “Xi’an had already gathered many of us at the Nuevo Sol Archology. He was holding inspirational meetings there. It was intended to be a place where anyone could go, drifters, degens, mutans, humans, and be accepted as equals. The X-men were formed there.” Ravage slapped his knee. “Hah! Hot damn, you people are heroes. X-men, huh? What makes you think you’ll fare any better than any of the other mutants who’ve taken up that name?” “The concept of the X-men is larger than any of us. It is a dream of peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans that has been passed down through the decades. It is our mutant heritage,” Eddie stated. “I had an ongoing feud with Noah Synge,” Xi’an continued. “He was greed personified. I was determined to break his soulless grip on the desert. Circumstances took that decision from my hands, however. Noah Synge and his son Lytton were on an air transport when the Domino Crash happened. The plane went down almost immediately, none survived.” “Xi’an was in Vegas at the time, intent on confronting Synge in his own bedroom,” Shakti added. “I wanted to show Synge that all his money and power would not prevent justice from being meted out,” Xi’an said. “You’re just a big teddy bear, Xi’an,” Ravage said, pausing to add. “Although I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in your position.” Xi’an nodded. “The death of Noah and Lytton meant the Synge fortune and holdings fell to Noah’s daughter, Desdemona. Des did not have a head for business then, she had been kept out of the dealings of her father. Noah was grooming Lytton for control of his empire, not Des. I saw a remarkable opportunity in this.” “Though we were as surprised as anyone to find that Xi’an had a head for business,” Tina remarked. “I offered to help Desdemona keep her power over Las Vegas,” Xi’an said. “In return she would end her father’s reprehensible business practices.” “And she took your offer, just like that?”, Ravage wondered. “No, I had to convince her that I was the only she could trust. She initially was going to go to her father’s syndicate board. I managed to convince her that they saw her in the same light as they saw me, a disposable resource.” “All in all, pretty smooth talking for a stranger with a hand that melts things,” Tim joked. “As time passed, Desdemona and I grew fond of each other. I found a compassionate soul behind the harsh and loveless exterior she put up. Eventually we decided to make Las Vegas the physical personification of Xavier’s dream. It was redubbed Avalon, after the legendary colony of mutants, and the X-men and I set out to find the people scattered over the land so we could invite them back to civilization.” “Uh huh,” Ravage said. “How’d you convince the daughter of a business tycoon to believe in this Xavier’s dream? Sure, it sounds nice, but it’s unrealistic.” “Is it?”, Xi’an asked. “It was Xavier’s dream that allowed Avalon to be built so rapidly. Without it, we are merely savages warring with each other in the dirt.” * * * “Well, Matt?”, Gallows asked as Matt and six others trudged up the bluff towards him. In the distance, Jake could make out Ravage’s abandoned village. “There aren’t any signs of struggle, Captain,” Matt answered. “The village has left with Xi’an Chi Xan presumably. They’re not bothering to hide their tracks either. They’ve headed off to the southwest. They can’t be more than a day ahead though, or the sand would have covered their tracks by now.” “Right,” Jake said, turning to bark orders at his soldiers. They were all on the ground, resting their feet. He had been pushing them all hard. “Everybody up! We’ve got a long way to go!” * * * It is not until the night of the third day that Ravage’s doubts are wiped clean away. “The truth can be quite beautiful sometimes,” Xi’an smiled at Ravage as Ravage stared open-mouthed at the spectacle before them. Only a half mile away, Avalon stretched out before them. Its spires lit up the night, the light spilling out onto the desert sand. It was as if a piece of the past had somehow been preserved there. Ravage could only guess at how active it was. There must be hundreds of thousands of people living there, he thought. A real city. The only city. “You weren’t lying,” Ravage said softly. Ravage didn’t know what he thought more amazing, the city, or the fact that perhaps everything Xi’an had said had been the truth. “It took courage to lead your people here, Paul-Philip,” Xi’an said, clasping Ravage’s hand. “It means a lot to me. Now let’s go home.” Suddenly, in the distance toward the city, a small trail of dust billowed up from the desert floor in a straight line towards them. Ravage raised his weapon. “Hold, Ravage,” Xi’an said. “It’s a friend.” In a blur of motion, Meanstreak seemingly materialized before them. The dust he kicked up blew in towards the camp. Henri coughed as they waited for it to drift by. “That’s why I hate running in the desert.” “Henri, does Des know I am back?”, Xi’an asked. “No, border patrol spotted you and sent me out to investigate. I’ll tell her it’s you.” “Good. Tell the refugee centers to prepare for incoming. Ravage, how many villagers are there?” “Three to four hundred. The number seesaws in that margin,” Ravage answered. Xi’an nodded. “Four hundred then. Tell my wife I will be home shortly.” Henri mock saluted Xi’an. “Will do, boss.” * * * Ravage and his nomads stare in awe at their surroundings as they walk through the city and to the main square. For many of them, it was as if a long nightmare had just ended. Ravage himself was surprised at how different the city was. No garish neon lights, no public eyes flying overhead, no advertisements filling every square inch of space. The city exuded an aura of peace and order. Ravage knew that while most of the villagers were simply happy to be part of civilization again, some of them were probably a hair trigger away from running off. There were possibly hundreds…no, thousands of mutants around them. Suspicion crept into Ravage’s mind. Out there they were hundreds of humans keeping an eye on five mutants. Here they were a small sliver of bewildered humans in the midst of strange territory. The picture of a bee drowning in honey came unbidden into his mind. These could quite possibly be the last steps he was ever going to make. He eyed their surroundings nervously as the villagers gathered into the main square. “Please tell your people to wait here,” Xi’an said. “There is an announcement I must make.” The words did little to soothe Ravage’s growing paranoia, but he nodded in assent anyway. From the little he knew of Xi’an and his mannerisms, wholesale slaughter in the middle of a city just didn’t seem like his style. Or did it? Ravage tried to silence his mind, second guessing and hair-trigger reactions weren’t going to do any good. Slowly, Xi’an made his way to a platform that rose in the center of the square. Someone else, an attendee perhaps, hands a small microphone to Xi’an. He clips it on his cowl before turning to look at the assembled crowd. “Brothers and sisters, both old and new. We are all outcasts here. Humans, degens, mutants, fringers, outlaws, homeless. Unwanted, we all have desired more. We here are hated and feared by the outside world,” Xi’an’s proud voice echoed over the square. “Speak for yourself, mutant,” Ravage heared someone mumble. He frowned. Xi’an continued. “Here in Avalon, we celebrate and draw strength from our differences. Here we dare to choose our own destiny! Free of the interference from heartless megacorps! Charles Xavier had a dream of peaceful coexistence between man and mutant. Magnus taught us the rules of combat, Del Ruiz taught us sacrifice, and Zhao taught us enlightenment. Their continuing legacy shows us that no matter the curse or blessing of your genetic make-up, we must be willing to die for a better tommorow, but more importantly, we must be willing to LIVE for it! Here, in Avalon, that dream finds purchase. You must cast away your ill feeling and resentment, your blind hate and prejudice, for they are no longer needed here. We need not fear each other anymore. It is fear that drives us apart, and only together, as you can see around you in the spires of Avalon, can true progress be made. Join us here in Avalon, and we will build a new future. Not for human, not for mutant, but for humanity.” * * * “Your speeches get prettier every time,” Desdemona joked as Xi’an rested on a couch in their living room. Behind him, a panoramic, wall-sized window gave them both a view of the city around them. Xi’an hadn’t intended to live so high above the city, but Desdemona seemed to like it. Xi’an smiled as he slipped his dust-stained gloves off. “Whatever works, dear.” “Hm,” Desdemona said as she rushed around the living quarter of their apartment, dressed in a plain black dress with a low back and a very short business skirt. “So how many people did you bring in with this…Ravage, you called him?” Desdemona talked as she hastily clipped on earrings. “A few hundred, the refugee centers will tally up the exact number tomorrow,” Xi’an said tiredly, he turned to watch Desdemona. “Are you completely sure you have to leave now?” He had hoped to have a relaxing evening with his wife after the journey. “Hoped” was the operative word. “You know I have to, darling,” Desdemona brushed a quick kiss on the top of Xi’an’s head. “We both have our work set out for us. You may get to live the outlaw life, but I have to deal with the paperwork.” Xi’an stood as she circled around to his side of the couch. “I don’t mean to sound unappreciative.” Desdemona took his hands in hers. “I know, honey, and I’m not griping. You know, if I had a choice between now and my life before the Crash, I’d choose this every time.” Xi’an smiled. “I know…as would I.” The two kissed softly as the lights of Avalon twinkled behind them. Desdemona pulled back abruptly. “But I gotta go, honey.” Des grabbed her coat off the table and headed towards the door. She looked back as she left. “Don’t wait up!” * * * The next morning Paul-Phillip Ravage rose with the sun, surrounded by the stark white walls of his room in the refugee center. Xi'an had offered to let Ravage stay with his wife and himself in their suite, but he had refused, feeling the need to stay with his people. For a while, he simply laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The anxious feeling from last night had not gone away, and his thoughts kept returning to that one nagging worry. Ravage wondered when the other shoe was going to drop. It took the rumbling of his stomach to get him out of bed. On a rack beside the bed were several new sets of clothes. Ravage shook his head in disdain at them. Charity was charity, but this was practically unfettered avarice. He chose a simple earth-toned vest and dark green work pants and left the rest of the clothes untouched, hoping that the staff at the center would send them off to needier folks. On a nightstand next to the bed were several toiletry items. He had not washed himself in almost five days. Gingerly, Ravage sniffed himself. He didn’t smell anything untoward, but he guessed once you got used to it, it didn’t bother you. He grabbed a towel and headed out the door. There was only one other person in the shower room when he walked in. Steam poured from one stall as the sound of the water hitting the linoleum filled the room. Occasionally, he saw a slender arm reach up from the stall. A familiar face suddenly peeked out from behind the curtain. “Ravage! Hey! They have running water here! And it’s always hot! I’ve been in here for hours, it seems,” Becka McBride exclaimed cheerfully. Becka and him went back a ways. Back before even the Domino Crash. Her presence and happy disposition were comforting to see. "Hello Becka,” Ravage answered as he stripped down and stepped into a stall. “How did you sleep?" “Wonderfully!,” Becka’s voice echoed around the room. “I love it here. How have they been able to accomplish so much? We struggled just to bring enough food into feed us all." "Maybe they have a better leader," Ravage said as a joke, although the instant he said it, he knew it would not be taken as such. "Not bloody likely! You kept us alive and united dozens of the tribes together. You maintained as much civilization as you could while we roamed the country. Your instincts allowed us all to take a leap of faith and come to Avalon. Although,” she paused. “It sounds like you left your sense of humor back in the desert.” Ravage smiled in spite of himself. She was right, of course, but things were changing now. He had found them a home, but where did that leave him? “I don’t know, Becka, now that we’re all part of the city’s population, the villagers won’t need me anymore.” “Maybe,” she answered. “Maybe not. It doesn’t mean there aren’t other people out there who don’t need you.” “You think I should go?”, Ravage asked. “I think you should do whatever you want to. You’re a good man, Paul, you fought in the Pollution Wars, you saw us through the Crash. Maybe you’ve earned a break.” Ravage did not answer her. Maybe she was right, maybe he did deserve to rest. But it didn’t feel that way. * * * "You're up early." Xi'an stated simply as Ravage opened the door to his flat. He had wondered who could be calling for him at this hour… “Err, Xi’an, this is a surprise.” “I thought you’d like a small tour of Avalon,” Xi’an said. His brow furrowed. “Is something wrong? You seem troubled. Is it your quarters?” “No…no, it’s just a big adjustment. You know…no offense…but I always thought that if we ever met I’d be trying to kill you.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t satisfy you,” XI’an said wryly, his comment tinged with dry humor. “Well, anyway…let’s go.” * * * The streets of Avalon are a showcase of modern society. There are fountains, parks, neon advertisements, and traffic. In the streets children are playing, in the trees, birds are singing. Ravage had long ago begun to believe places like this no longer existed. "What is going on here?", Ravage asked, pointing at a construction site where a high rise was being erected. Nearly a hundred men were crawling over it, and on the sidelines was a single man with his eyes focused on a metal beam suspended in the air. Wherever the man pointed, the beam went in that directon. Slowly, the beam hovered and settled into place in the metal framework of the building. Several men rushed over to affix it into place. Xi'an smiled. "That, my friend, is a construction site. This work could, of course, be done with simple machines. But although we have managed to build machinery that resists the effects of the Domino Virus, we are still not completely self-reliant. Avalon is dependant on humans and mutants working together. Each of us donates a portion of our time and talents to make this a possibility. For example, Henri, the X-man you met last night, runs in a generator treadmill for twenty minutes each day to charge a massive battery we use to back up the med clinics. He can reach fantastic speeds in practically no time at all. His efforts are minimal, but it helps literally hundreds each day." “And you’re not worried about some mutant going nuts and destroying everything you’ve worked to build?”, Ravage asked. “Not particularly, the circumstances of the world require us all to work as one unit. Such a spirit of teamwork lets both human and mutant understand each other better. Besides, civilization managed to survive the Heroic Age of years past. We will survive just the same.” “The Heroic Age ended, Xi’an. Bloodily,” Ravage reminded him. “Because of mistrust and intolerance,” Xi’an countered. “We will not, we CANNOT, make that same mistake again.” Before Ravage could respond, the ground beneath their feet pitched back and forth. An ear-rending sonic boom ripped through the air. In the distance, both of them could see a plume of fire rise into the sky. “An explosion?”, Ravage yelled. “It would appear so,” Xi’an said, getting to his feet and taking out a small com-unit. “Border patrol, what’s going on?”, Xi’an barked into it. “We’ve got trouble, sir,” a voice over the unit squawks. “It’s the Punisher’s army. They’re coming in from the northeast.” Ravage’s eyes widened. “That’s Jake Gallows…he has the largest army in North America!” From the look Ravage saw on Xi’an’s face, he already knew. “Him and his army of genetic purists have found the city sooner than I had hoped.” Immediately, Ravage kicked himself. “Shock, they must have followed us here. I’m sorry, Xi’an.” “It is alright, my friend,” Xi’an clasped Ravage’s shoulder, a devious smile appearing on his face. “A city full of mutants is not exactly an easy target.” * * * Armored weapons and troop transports rumbled towards the city from all sides, called from their garages at Gallow’s command. Gas-powered vehicles were a luxury that was not to be overused, but Jake knew he would need every force he could muster to take this city. His forces were split into four columns, coming at the city from each compass point. They were going to hammer at this mutie’s city from all sides. The blood of humans had built the city, Jake thought, so it was all too fitting that that blood of humans would bring it down. * * * Ravage rushed into the refugee center, immediately running into a panicked Becka coming out. “Becka! Quick, we need to rally the villagers. Gallows is attacking the city.” Confusion and determination both painted Becka’s face. “But…right, it’s our home too.” Ravage paused before responding. “Right.” * * * Explosions shook the city as Xi'an’s Protectorate, the X-Men gathered in the city’s square. Metalhead, Meanstreak, Krystalin, Cerebra, Serpentina, Skullfire, Bloodhawk, and Victor Ten Eagles. Today he will lead them, not in the spirit of Xavier, but the passion of Magnus. The dream is alive, but Lord help those who would come to this city to harm those he loves. He took a deep breath and begun. "Bloodhawk, you and Eddie head outside the wall. If the Punisher is being true to his tactics, he has heavy artillery approaching the city. I need you two to slow it down." Bloodhawk nodded, belts of explosives hanging from him as he flapped into the air. Eddie touched a band that was fastened around his arm. Immediately, his skin transfigured into an impervious metal. He broke off into a run towards the edge of the city. Xi’an continued. “Krystalin, Henri…defense and stealth are your best allies in this combat. Krys, I need you to hinder and trap the advancing troops. Pave the way for Henri to take them down quickly, then move on to another area.” "Tina, Timothy, Victor. It is left to us to rally and lead the forces of the city against this threat. You know the numbers we face, but I know that we can succeed. Not even a madman like Gallows can stand up to our united front. He fights for prejudice, but we fight to protect our home.” * * * Bloodhawk’s mastery of the air is unrivaled. Though even he is finding it more than difficult to dodge the salvos of bullets and explosives being fired up at him. He weaves in and out, never staying in one place, never following a predictable flight path. Absently, he grabs an omni grenade and lets it fly at a grouping of soldiers. The grenade hits its mark with the expected results. A moment later, he sees a familiar metallic figure rush through the gap cleared in the ranks. Below, trudging through the desert, are five tanks approaching. Bloodhawk grins, tucks his wings in, and rides the wind to another side of the city as he hears the sound of metal meeting metal. Bloodhawk doesn’t have to look back. The sound of Eddie’s fists slamming into the tanks is enough for him. * * * Unbreakable shards of crystal tore through the incoming soldiers like shrapnel. The ones that did not die instantly fell to the ground screaming in pain, blood oozed from a flurry of small wounds. “Hey!”, Henri said. “I thought YOU were supposed to set them up for ME.” Krystalin’s face was cold and angry. Her gaze was of a lionness protecting her den. “I like this better.” * * * The Punisher is not a happy man. The level of resistance his forces were meeting was too high. In the past he had been able to tear into the other mutant settlements and wipe them out before lunchtime. But here, somehow, the city is organized, frustrating his every attempt to take it. Suddenly, the Punisher strides over to a tank and climbs in. “C’mon men!”, Gallows yelled. “We’re going to show them how REAL soldiers fight!” * * * Ravage and his followers burst into the field of battle, brimming with a passion. The Punisher’s forces had managed to slip into the city, but Ravage was there to meet them, tooth to tooth. Ravage took a small pride in the combatants from the village he had managed to gather. People fell on both sides, but where one villager fell, four of the Punisher’s army went with him. Ravage snarled as he came up behind one of the troops and felled him with a single blow to the head. Both the Punisher and the villagers wanted Avalon, but he guessed the villagers just wanted it more. * * * The Punisher whooped in victory as his tank rumbled through the streets, taking potshots at any mutants he could find. Ahead of him, he could make out the city’s center square. He smiled, it was almost like a game of Capture the Flag to him… Suddenly, a bolt of green energy flew from a space between two buildings. It impacted squarely on the Punisher’s tank, sending it spinning and flipping out of control. Gallows flew from his seat, thrown from the vehicle. He landed hard on the pavement behind the tank, his body armor being the only thing saving him from injury. Groggily, he looked out from behind the wreck of the tank and tried to find his assailant. Gallow’s grinned. There he was. The Desert Ghost himself, standing only 50 yards ahead of him with some white-faced mutant. Xi’an didn’t even see him. Jake reached for his sidearm and aimed… “NOOOO!” It all happened in less than a second. A shadow appeared over Gallows as Ravage bounded from above. He plowed into the Punisher as a shot rang out. Surprised by the noise, Xi’an turned…just as Gallows’ bullet plowed into his chest. Ravage picked the Punisher up by his army jacket and slammed him into the wreck of the tank. “You prejudiced FOOL! You have no idea what you’re doing! How many innocents you’ve condemned!” Ravage shook the man like a rag doll. The Punisher barely managed to regain his senses as Ravage assaulted him. As Paul-Philip threw him around, Jake managed to reach for his waist holster. He drew a second firearm. Ravage moved faster than light, letting the Punisher drop as he smacked the firearm out of Gallows’ hand. It slid uselessly away. Panicked, the Punisher raised a hand to ward off any other blows from Ravage. “It’s not about prejudice!”, Jake screamed. “It’s about justice!” The comment only seemed to make Ravage angrier. “You call THIS justice? Destroying the only working city on the continent? Making hundreds of thousands of refugees homeless again?” “Better to do that than live in a city built on the backs of the human race!”, Jake countered. Ravage shook his head. “You blind fool. You say you live by the ideals of fairness and justice, but you would destroy innocent lives based on heresay and intolerance. Tell me, do you have proof that Avalon was built the way you think it was?” The Punisher had a hesitant look on his face, he remained silent. * * * 10 MONTHS LATER: ANOTHER BATTLE- ANOTHER PLACE Xi'an Chi Xan crouched, then made his move for the door he observed his adversary entering. Around him, the battle rages, but he knows it will end soon. Stealthily, Xi’an slipped inside the dark tent. "Somers!”, Xi’an yelled out. “Your theft of Halo City’s supplies stops here. Surrender or be taken.” Halo City. Their newest venture. A new city south of Avalon where refugees could make a home. The word of Avalon had spread after the Punisher’s attack. The city was filled to overflowing now, and more arrived every day. Xi’an senses Morphine before he hears him. He pivots to meet the man’s assault, but Morphine is too quick. A sawed-off table leg impacts on Xi’an’s skull, and he goes down. Through the fog that fills his mind, Xi’an can hear Morphine gloat. Morphine bends down and grins over Xi’an’s limp body, raising his right hand. “I’m sure you know what I can do with this hand,” Morphine threatens. “And how things tend to age rapidly when I’m around.” Suddenly, a solitary shot rings out and Somers falls to the ground, a look of surprise frozen on his face. Another man stands in the door, silhouetted by the light from outside. Xi’an watched as the man walked over to him. Xi’an took the man’s hand and lifted himself upright. As he brushed himself off, Xi’an’s glance took in the X on the uniform of the man in front of him. "I can't believe you let this son of a glitch sneak up on you like that. He could have killed you right there," the man growled. "I knew I wouldn’t die, Jake,” Xi’an smiled at the hard-edged soldier. “Not as long as one of my fellow X-Men draws breath." Xi’an stretched and rubbed the painful spot welling up at the base of his skull. "How is everyone else doing?" " We've cleaned up most of the troops. Shakti is interrogating Morphine's second-in-command and Ravage is leading a soiree after the ones who fled." Xi'an nods, just as Skullfire runs in the tent. "There’s a priority one message coming in, in the transport,” Tim said. “It’s for Xi’an.” * * * Xi’an keys up the vidscreen as he sits down in the transport. Immediately, his wife appears before him, her face was haggard-looking, and she was still in her pajamas. “Is something the matter, Des?”, Xi’an asks. "Xi'an,” Desdemona said queasily. “Do you remember that celebration gala we had to announce the construction of Halo City?" He nodded, placing his hands on the armrest of the chair. One hand was a corrosive green, the other was a bright gold. "Yes." "And do you remember the…other celebration you and I had that night?" Xi’an blushed slightly, smiling. “Of course.” "Well,” Desdemona paused, looking apprehensive. “Halo City wasn’t the only thing we created that night.” A confused look appeared on Xi’an’s face for a moment. What did she mean by…oh…OH! Xi’an’s face lit up. On the viewscreen, Des clutched her stomach. “Don’t go anywhere,” Xi’an said excitedly, starting up the transport. “I’ll be right home.” * * * EPILOGUE: The screen goes black, and I go cold inside. After all these months it has been right here in front of me, and I have failed to see it. The focal point is just after the Pollution Wars. The focal point is 2097! Suddenly, another klaxon goes off. This one telling me that the accuracy of my programs are now too unreliable to be called valid. I feel empty and full all at once. My destiny is clear, but I feel a tinge of fear. I call Marrionette to attend me. I know what I must do. That's it. The last issue of the What if regular series. To see what is in store for the Surveyor, and get in on the ground floor of the upcoming Firlight/ Avalon 5 story arc, look us up as this story continues in Discord: Reboot ( a one-shot). |