All known X-men characters in this story are copyrighted by Marvel Comics.
No permission was obtained, but no profit is to be made from this story. It
is purely for my personal enjoyment and those of its readers. All other
characters, concepts, plots, theories, technology not seen in Marvel Comics
belong to me.
Please don't distribute this without asking me; I probably won't mind if
you did, as long as it wasn't altered in any way. I'd just like to know where
it's going.
Please, enjoy this story, and send me your comments, be they good or
bad, to percy@atlas.webo.dg.com or jpercy@clariion.com.
Thanks for reading!
John Percy
Additional notes: Vultura, seen in the Weapon-X storyline, makes a cameo
here. Now, she could be the Dragoness of the real-X timeline (616), or
should could be an enhanced human, like Pierce was. I don't think she's
Dragoness, even though she looks very much like her, because I find it hard
to believe that a mutant (which Dragoness is) to be associated with enhanced
humans - unless she was a rebel, now 'brainwashed'. So, I opted for the
'enhanced human' approach. It -is- just a cameo, after all.
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Revelations - Chapter 8
By
John Percy
For the next few days, I spend my time supervising the clean-up of the
processing levels, along with my regular duties. It's somewhat of a relief,
really, getting back to the 'daily grind'. Processing newly brought in
prisoners, guarding the old ones, providing McCoy with test subjects, and
keeping track of Mr. Sinister's ongoing experiments brings a tranquility to
my mind that only hard work can do.
The attitude is reflected in the EMF troopers, as well. They know they
didn't do well in the battle against the X-men, but that wasn't their fault,
totally. They're glad to get back into their regular routine. Even the
extra work of repairing the processing levels hasn't dampened their spirits.
They're throwing themselves into the job with gusto.
Even Alex seems to have lightened up a bit. I think I saw him stop
scowling once. For a second.
The only thing that seems out of the ordinary, and I'm sure that only
me or Alex would notice it, is that Mr. Sinister hasn't been seen at all in
the last few days. And that's not all that strange, really. Mr. Sinister has
been known to go missing for a few days, usually performing some kind of
experiment in his inner Sanctum, or working with McCoy. Since we captured
the X-man Jean Grey, I've assumed he's been 'working' on her.
So, the rest of us go on about our business. To me, my first priority is
to have the processing levels back up and running as quickly as possible.
Which is why I'm standing in the midst of the reconstruction parties now,
to provide a bit of incentive. I'd arrived just a few minutes ago, riding
my cycle, and they've doubled their pace.
"Let's move it, people!" I shout, walking amongst the toiling EMFers,
"I want the power grid in this section up and running within the hour! Do I
make myself clear?" I scowl and fold my arms across my chest to emphasize my
point.
A chorus of affirmatives and 'yessirs!' are my response, and I smile
inwardly to myself. Nothing like a little intimidation to get the blood
pumping. As I watch my troopers work along with a few Infinites and some of
the hardier prisoners, I figure that the processing level should at least
have rudimentary functions working by tomorrow morning. I nod in satisfaction
slightly; Alex had complained that it would take at least a week, maybe more.
As much as I hate to admit it, it does give me a little pleasure to spite my
brother occasionally.
As I start to think about what needs to be done tomorrow in the
reconstruction phase, a light wooshing sound comes to my ears. Instinctively,
I start to scan the skies, as do a few of my more astute troopers, realizing
that something, or someone, is approaching from the air.
I can tell it's not a skimmer or a flier by its sound, unless it's being
muffled. From experience, I can tell it sounds like the flapping of wings.
Large wings. I know of only a few people with such a characteristic, and I
mentally begin to plan on ways to deal with the more threatening ones, no
matter how unlikely that it would be one of them.
My quick calculations become wasted effort when Vultura, a bio-enhanced
human, comes gliding down the corridor. She's one of the few humans who were
deemed worthy of receiving either genetic or bio-mechanical upgrades in order
to be of service to Apocalypse. At least, she was one of the ones who
volunteered.
Now, you can't tell who she was before, or what she looked like.
Biomechanical implants now improve her sight, hearing, strength, and
durability. Her forearms and legs have been totally replaced. Her eyes
removed in favor for some kind of goggle/visor. And, of course, large
biomechanical wings now sprout from her back; hence her name. All in all, an
improvement on the original, helpless human. Now, she is the perfect avian
recon and assault unit. At least, as perfect as a former human can be.
Relaxing slightly, I watch her swoop gracefully down from the sky and land
in front of me, a few feet away. Immediately she drops to one knee and bows
her head, awaiting my acknowledgement. These enhanced humans may be bad
copies of mutants, but at least they know their place.
I turn away from her, folding my arms across my chest, pretending that I
don't even know she's there. It doesn't hurt to remind these cyborgs of their
role in life, every once in a while. Vultura, fortunatly for her, is one of
the enhanced humans who understands the way things are, and remains both silent
and still.
In the meantime, my troopers go back to work, ignoring the thing they
consider an animal. I watch them for a few minutes, pretending to be
interested, then give Vultura a backwards glance. "What is it, Vultura,"
I say in a disinterested tone.
"My lord," she says quietly, yet clearly, not looking up, "His excellency
Mr. Sinister bids you join him in his Sanctum, Prelate."
I turn quickly towards her, cursing myself for the delay caused by my
petty behavior. "He just sent you?"
She still does not look up. "Yes, lord."
I nod. "You've done well, Vultura. Now, fly on ahead and tell him I'm
on my way. Go!"
She immediate stands at my command, saluting. "Yes, sir!" With a leap
and flapping of wings, she launches into the air, swings around, and flies
towards the Black Tower. I've got to admit that, for a human, she at least
follows orders well. Better than some of my troopers.
I turn to one of my senior troopers and order him to take over, making sure
he understands that the work is to continue. Giving the whole group a hard
stare, along with a flash from my visor, I turn, walk back to my cycle, and
start the engine with a flick of a switch. Twisting the throttle hard, I peel
around, begin to head towards the Black Tower. When you're summoned by Mr.
Sinister, you respond immediately. Even if you are his son.
*** *** ***
A little while later, I arrive at the entrance to the Black Tower. Coming
to a stop just outside the gate, I park my cycle next to another one that's
there. I recognize it as belonging to Alex; he loves that motorcycle, and has
tinkered with it for hours, making it one of a kind. Mr. Sinister must have
summoned him as well.
I walk up to the entrance of the Tower, and the gate guardian, a
disembodied brain specifically bred for limited telepathy, recognizes me and
lets me pass. Quickly striding through the opening gates, I make my way to
Mr. Sinister's Inner Sanctum.
I arrive at the large, ornate, double doors, where another brain guardian
immediately recognizes me and unlocks the doors. Passing through them, I
briefly wonder about not only what my father has been doing since his
disappearance but also why both Alex and I have been summoned.
Alex's face is the first thing that greets me as I walk into my father's
main laboratory. He gives me his customary curt nod as he stands there,
ram-rod straight, with his arms folded across his chest; a nod that conveys
greeting, hate, arrogance, disgust, and loathing all in one.
I return the favor by ignoring him, and folding my own arms across my
chest. Mr. Sinister knows, no doubt, that we are both here now, and will come
to us whenever he feels like it. Until then, we wait, as is our duty.
A few moments later my father enters the room through a passageway from an
adjoining room. He gazes at us for a long moment, with that quirky smile of
his. Finally, he nods, and greets his two adopted sons with a chuckle. "I see
the Grim brothers have arrived, as requested."
My cheeks burn slightly red with admonishment, and I relax my pose
slightly. Alex does not; either he didn't understand the subtle rebuke, or
just chooses to ignore it. Chances are it's the former, since Alex and an
education didn't exactly mesh well in the past.
Mr. Sinister turns away from us, towards a bank of computers and begins
fiddling with some of the controls. "I suppose you are wondering why I've
summoned you both, and about my most recent seclusion." Seemingly satisfied
with whatever the computer is doing, he flicks a final switch and turns back
to us. "I've finished my examination of my latest ... volunteer, and I've been
pleasantly surprised with the results." We all know he's talking about Jean
Grey.
I nod slightly. "So that initial scan was correct." Alex just hrumphs.
Mr. Sinister nods. "Indeed, Scott." He then seems to smile at nothing,
as if remembering a fond memory. "The experiments I ran on her genetic
material were most ... refreshing."
If I didn't know my father better, I'd say he is almost drooling over
whatever it was he discovered. Even then, it's plain to see he found whatever
he wanted from the Grey woman, and more.
Alex nods curtly at this news, and says, "So, you are finished with the
rebel, and needed us to dispose of the remains. Very good, father."
Mr. Sinister chuckles lightly shaking his head. "Oh, no, Alex, that is
not it at all. In fact quite the opposite." He turns slightly back towards
the entryway he first entered from. "Please, Ms. Grey, join us."
Walking into the room with as much grace and style as anyone could muster,
the X-man Jean Grey stops just short of Mr. Sinister and gives him a look
that would melt adamantium, if it were possible. It is then that I notice the
inhibitor collar around her neck; if not for that collar, it's no doubt that
she would try to follow up on that look. She must realize that she can't fight
her way out of here, and is only cooperating in order to await a chance to
escape.
For one of Mr. Sinister's test subjects, she looked to be in remarkable
condition. As far as I could tell, she hasn't been harmed, altered, or
mutilated in any way. The only difference I can see is her hair; once long
and full, it's now short and spikey. Still, it is an attractive look on her.
That, and a red and blue jumpsuit that accents her shape perfectly, almost
makes me gawk. But the memory of our battle in the processing levels reminds
me that this beautiful woman is a dangerous opponent, and I'm glad she has that
inhibitor collar on.
Alex just gapes at her, whether in shock and disbelief or in appreciation
of her looks, I can't tell. Most likely, it's in disbelief.
"As you can see, Ms. Grey did not end up in the condition most of my test
subjects do." Mr. Sinister gives her a slight smile. Her responding look of
hatred on her face clearly indicates her thoughts.
My father just laughs lightly. "Ah, she is such a graceful guest. But on
to more important topics. Ms. Grey will be staying with us quite a while. I
want the two of you to prepare some facilities for her."
Alex seems to come out of his stupor, blinking. "Yes... yes, sir. I'll
have a maximum security cell in A-block prepared right away." Apparently, the
shock of Grey being alive has been dulled by the thought of being able to
imprison and torture an X-man.
Again, Mr. Sinister just chuckles chillingly, and even Grey crosses her
arms and smiles slightly. "Oh, no, Alex. You misunderstand. Ms. Grey is to
be treated as our guest. As an elite."
Even I gape a bit at that. Alex looks like he's about to faint, and starts
to stammer, "A.. an elite? But sir, she's and X-man! A damned traitor! She
and her rebel scum kind killed our men, oppose our order, and help the
humans!" He almost spits out the word human.
Though I don't have the vehemence that Alex does, I've got to admit he's
got a point. "Father, she is an enemy agent, highly dangerous..."
Mr. Sinister holds up his hand for silence. "There will be no discussion
on this subject. None. My orders are explicit: Ms. Grey is to be treated
as one of the elite, and given all privileges and comforts as such. She will
not be harmed, nor harassed by anyone, is that clear?"
I nod, completely understanding. Understanding my orders, that is. Why
Grey is to be treated as an elite, I have no idea. But I'm a soldier, first
and foremost, and I obey orders. On top of that, Mr. Sinister is my father,
and I trust him explicitly. Whatever reason he has for doing this, it must be
necessary.
Alex, to his credit, is a soldier too, and nods, though I can tell it's
burning him up inside. I can see him clenching his hands, and I know he would
like nothing better than to vaporize Grey right here and now.
Mr. Sinister folds his arms across his chest, and adds, "In addition, Ms.
Grey is not confined to her quarters, either. She has full access to the Pens,
with the exception of Security, McCoy's lab, central control, the power
station, and the armory. No one is to impede her in any way, save in those
areas. Is that understood?"
I nod, as does Alex, who looks somewhat relieved at the idea of at least
some type of restriction on Grey. I merely see the practicality of it.
Father walks up to me, and places a hand on my shoulder. "Scott, you will
be Ms. Grey's personal liason, aiding her in any way that she needs, save that
it does not interfer with your duties. You are also responsible for her
safety and will ensure it by any means necessary." Giving my shoulder a slight
squeeze, he releases it and walks over to stand in front of Alex. Pointedly,
he just stands in front of him, not touching him at all. "Alex, you will see
to her new quarters, which will be one of the rooms reserved for our guests.
You will also ensure its security. Additionally, you will monitor her
movements, and make sure she does not violate the areas that are forbidden to
her. If such an attempt is made, you will contact either Scott or I, and
no one else. No other action it to be taken. Is that understood?"
Alex nods grimly, even though I can see it's burning him up inside. Mr.
Sinister turns and walks back to Grey, and smiles at her slightly. "I hope
your stay with us will be a pleasant one, Ms. Grey." She gives him a look
that could melt the polar caps.
Alex grumbles. "Will that be all, sir?"
Father turns back slightly towards him, his robes swishing about him.
"Yes, Alex, that will be all. Dismissed."
With another curt nod and a withering glare at the X-man, Alex spins on
his heel and stalks out. My father and I watch him go, and Ms. Grey actually
smiles a bit, probably pleased that someone else besides her is suffering.
Mr. Sinister either does not notice, or doesn't care. He merely starts to
walk back the way he came, saying over his shoulder. "Do take care, Ms. Grey.
My orders are explicit, but some of the EMF are known to be ... zealous, in
their beliefs. It would be wise not to test either." With that, the audience
comes to an end as my father disappears deeper into his inner domain.
I watch him go, then turn back to look at Grey, who is staring back at me,
with hardly a nice look. "So," she says, "Nice to see you again." The sarcasm
in her voice isn't subtle.
I sigh inwardly. Orders or no orders, this wasn't going to be easy. "Come
on," I say, "Let's go."
She snorts, unlady-like, in disgust. "I'm not going anywhere with you,
one-eye. You can go to hell, for all I care." She crosses her arms over
her chest, defiantly, challenging me to make her move.
I shrug. "Fine. Stay here by yourself, I don't care." So I turn and leave
the chamber and Sinister's lair, out into the corridor. A few moments later,
I can feel her footsteps behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the look
of disgust she gives me, but also a hint of fear; looks like she'd rather go
with me, rather than stay alone in Mr. Sinister's lab. Smart girl.
We walk along in silence until we leave the the Tower, and I walk over to
my cycle and hop onto the seat. She stops right before me and gives me an
incredulous look.
I shake my head slightly, and start the cycle with a low rumble. "Hop
on, unless you want to walk." I rev the powerful two cylinder motor a few
times; mostly for effect.
"Why should I? Why shouldn't I just let you leave, and escape? I heard
what Sinister said; you can't stop me, none of you can." She gives me a
defiant smirk, certain of her logic.
I shrug. "It's fine with me, lady. And you're right; I won't stop you.
But I'll give you a piece of advice, though I think you know it already." I
rev the motor once for emphasis. "Around here, I'm one of the nice guys.
There are plenty of others that will take any excuse to kill you, no matter
the consequences. And the rest will cheer them on. Normally, I'd give you a
50-50 chance, but with that collar on, you don't have a chance in hell." I
can tell from the dawning look on her face that she knows this is true.
I kick up the kickstand on the bike and start to turn it. "Now, I'm going
to get something to eat. You can either come with me, or stay here and take
your chances. Either way is fine with me." I turn away and start to prepare
to pull away.
I feel her light weight come down on the jump seat behind me, and she
growls unintelligibly in my ear; she might agree with me, but she sure doesn't
like it. I smile slightly to myself; that was a lot easier than I thought it
would be.
I kick the bike into gear and start to drive off. "I hope you like a good
steak."
As the momentum and speed of the bike forces her to wrap her arms around
my waist, I can feel her anger and fear. "Just so long as it's away from this
hell hole," she mumbles into my ear.
Inwardly, I almost agree. Outwardly, I hope she can't feel the tingling in
my body caused by having her arms around me.
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