Alternate X-Men #53
Michael Triggs at TRIGGS_M@bentley.edu


Cover : Red background, the shattered image of Sinister's face, laughing.
        Scott Summer's shadow in black against the red foreground, looking 
        quite evil/powerful. In Grey Letters, "CONDUIT".

Title : The Last Dance

=============================

An intense laughter. What's left of his face stares at the inputs from
the monitor. 

"That was easy enough. Come Scott, let us finish the final dance. It appears 
 the warranty on this body has run out."

Sinister stands, a pile of mush where a man once stood. Cyclops, still
restrained, facing towards the screen, is in absolute sensory overload.
He has always been the type to hold his feelings in. It has helped him
avoid many problems in the past. However, the thought of seeing
Jean, the focal point of his useless life, blown sky high, was too much 
for him to bear.

He sits in the restraining chair, a broken man.. His morale drops to 
zero with a loud..

============================================================================

-*-

<THUD>

A great crashing noise.

Scene : The American Southwest.

Five seconds ago, Betsy Braddock was dropped by a high altitude, after a 
surprise air-raid by TerraRota, a mystery mutant that she and her fellow 
X-Men had gone to track down in New Mexico.

Like a cat, she lands on her feet, plunging into the desert sands at a high
speed. Apparently too fast, as her leg bends in a way that it's not meant
to bend in. In excruciating pain, she falls to her side. From 
above, she can see the spiraling movement of her attacker, TerraRota.
The earthen being babbles endlessly.. The talk of the insane.

TerraRota : Who's there? <losing her female appearance> Who talks in my
            head?

TerraRota : No! I know no master no more!

TerraRota <angrily, the ground rumbling> : But you said I'm free when 
                                           done with this!

-*-

However, a psychic imprint falls over Betsy. What seemed like insane
chatter coming from this strange mutant has new meaning, as a second
voice is revealed, its cold, soundly evil tone echoing through her
psyche.

-*-

Voice  : You will be free soon.. Soon enough..
         Free to shake things up.. However, when
         you are re-created, it's courteous to
         repay your maker.. <voice fading out>


--

Betsy : Sinister?

Betsy struggles to get up, as her ankle, now swollen, disagrees with such
a thought, letting out a pulse of intense pain.

As she does this, the spiraling earth drops out of the sky, close to the
ground, hovering over Betsy. Words from TerraRota utter forth.

TerraRota <almost growling> Si. Sinister. $#@$@$#@ promised he'd gonna let
                            me go once I snabbed the dork with the glasses.

Betsy <angrily> : Scott!?!?? What have you done with HIM?!?!?!?! 

TerraRota <spiraling in the air> : Oh. He's gonna get a new brain! That's
                                   what the white guy keeps sayin!!

Betsy <befuddled> : Why are you telling me all this?

TerraRota <plummeting down at high speeds> : Cuz, where you're going, you 
                                             ain't gonna be telling anybody.

TerraRota splatters down on Betsy, burying her alive. This time, no 
holo-image will save her. From a nearby face of a cliff, Warren Worthington,
the mutant known as ArchAngel, peels himself off of the cliff TerraRota 
tossed him into just in time to see TerraRota pile onto Betsy.

He flies with all his might, but is too late to stop the act.

Warren <airbombing down> : BETSY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*fade out*

=============================================================================
INTERLUDE
=============================================================================

Washington, DC : An office building.. Late at night.. It's practically
                 deserted.. One man is busy at work.. Plotting.. 
                 Conceiving.. Procrastinating..

Trevor Faulkman sits in his office, watching some very important                
government editorial videotaped.

-*-
"In 1996, Creed will make the difference!! Equality is something that all
 should have. Why should the very traits that make this country American
 fall into the hands of mutants? These power-mad beings are stepping all
 over us, turning us into second-class--"
-*-
 
 <click>

(Trevor changes the channel, chugging down a liter-bottle of soda.)

-*-

(A purple dinosaur appears on the screen.)

"Hidey Hi Kiddee-Widdees!! It's time for your old pal BARNEY!!! And today,
 we're gonna have some fun!! Ain't that right Joe, and Paul, and Mary Beth?
 My, My, My, I sure have lots of happy slappy friends today. Let's play
 baseball!!! We already have balls and bats and --"

-*-

Suddenly, the phone sounds, breaking the whining of BARNEY on the
television. Trevor answers the phone, grabbing up the receiver with
his hand.

Trevor <Annoyed> : I told you not to call me during my favorite show!
                   Sheesh! Gathers, what do you want?

Gathers : I almost have Janice Kent in my clutches. I think I can pull this 
          off by the end of the month.

Trevor : End of the MONTH? Dude, federal money is going into this. We're
         practically in the red on this stupid feeb. Hurry up. If you don't
         hurry, we'll have to go back to our -other- source of income, which
         isn't that pretty.

Gathers : Patience is a virtue. Let Kent think she is safe, for the moment.
          Once she feels too safe, she'll let her guard down, and be easy
          pickings.

Trevor : You have -two- weeks. Get a move on. I don't want jabber. I want
         action. That's what you're paid for. <hanging up the phone angrily>

Trevor <facing the television> : Now, back to BARNEY.. Oh boy..

(On the television, BARNEY is getting beaten up by a bunch of adolescents
 with baseball bats. One of them holds a sign up to the monitor..)

 "THE ANTI-BARNEY COMMISSION HAS STRUCK AGAIN!!!"

Trevor angrily throws his remote at the television set, muttering to himself.

"Something will have to be done about this ABC, but they aren't an immediate
 threat. First things first, let's start by wiping out the -big- threat.
 Mutants.. Your days are few.."

<fade out, centering on the "Creed For President" poster on the wall>

-*-

Scene : Providence, RI
----------------------

He walks away from the phone, his blue hair flashing in the wind. Bill
Gathers is known to others as Magico, an ex-SHIELD agent/pyrotechnics 
expert turned Stage Magician doing half-time shows for the Providence 
Lightning hockey team for the last six months.. Now, one wonders if
people really know Gathers as well as they think they do..

=============================================================================
END INTERLUDE
=============================================================================

Scene : Sinister's Factor HQ
============================

Machinery seemingly grows out of the walls. Scott stares, dizzly, as 
Sinister pumps drugs into his system. There's nothing but silence. An
occasional oozing sound coming from the being known as Sinister. His 
voice calls out, almost hoarse beyond understanding.

Sinister : Let's do it. Say goodbye, Scott.

<The click of a button>

Scott : You can't break me, Sinister. I'll resist you every step of the
        way.

Sinister <The reVVing of machinery in the background> : Don't you
         get it, Scott? I broke you a long time ago.. 
         
<More reVVing> The speech from Sinister begins to echo through the barren
               factory. It seems to be coming from two people now. The
               dual voices continue repeating the words that Sinister 
               began. One of the voices begins to fade, as an oozing
               noise begins to shoot out from where Sinister was
               standing.

Voice : Scott, you were the product of years of work. And now, my work
        is finally over. You were unable to resist me back then..

<The image of Scott not being able to shoot Sinister, from INFERNO..)

-*-

Where Sinister stands, there now is a pile of lavender ooze.. However,
standing upright, is the man known as Scott Summers.. Although, something
seems different about him.. He stares at what's left of the purple ooze,
in almost some sort of reverence.. And then, he utters forth words, as 
cold as the arctic air..

Scott Summers [?] : .. So, what makes you think you can resist me now?!?!?

<fade away from the factory, out to the Colorado landscape>

An evil laughter eminates through the early morning air.. It seems like
it's going to be a nice day today, here in Colorado.. Yet, there is a 
certain sinister gloominess over everything.. One that hasn't been this 
strong in years..

END?

[Hardly..]

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  You wouldn't believe me if I told you. It's nothing you'd expect..
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