Chapter Text
Salem Center wasn’t always a part of New York City--a lot of places weren’t. Once the Shi’ar established contact with some of Earth’s brightest minds, including Howard Stark and Reed Richards, there was a technological boom. Almost overnight, many of the world’s problems were eradicated. Limitations of the old world, both technologically and biologically, were overcome and for a while, at least, it seemed like Stark, Richards, and the rest of their circle of scientists, had created a utopia.
But, like with any new invention, there were unforeseen side-effects and new problems that replaced the old. Pollution and overpopulation rose at an exponential rate and not even the Avengers could defeat that villain. This overpopulation forced all cities to quickly expand and absorb whatever space they could. Skyscrapers, 30-40-stories tall went up one day and were at capacity the next. And with that, Salem Center, once a quaint, rural part of New York became another annex of New York City.
Because of this, Remy LeBeau was surprised when he saw this old mansion at 1407 Graymalkin Lane sandwiched between two glass and metal complexes that were filled to the brim with people. It was uncommon to see a stone structure such as this still standing in a city of metal and neon. Surely, whoever owned it must have had a lot of pull to be able to avoid eminent domain. Or money.
A warm rain tapped at the hood pulled up over the man’s head as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He peered down at the mansion from the roof of a building across the street with a sign that read, ‘Alchemax Logistics’ in brilliant yellow. There were no lights on at the mansion that he could see, however, which further concealed it among the glow of that emanated from every other building around it.
Not one of the endless stream of pedestrians who passed by paid any mind to the building and no cars stopped at its front door. In fact, no one seemed to pay any sort of attention to this relic for the two hours he had been watching until a hooded figure broke from the crowd, jogging up the steps out of the rain and ringing the doorbell.
Remy took one last drag from his smoke and flicked it to the side as the door opened and the hooded figure went in.
So, there was someone home, he thought and grinned. He was always ready for a challenge.
#
Jean looked with a pained expression as Scott used a butter knife to scrape at the dried cheese on a pan. “You’re just going to damage the surface. Then it’s going to get rusty.”
“Hey, I’m the dishwasher tonight,” Scott said with a small smile. “You’re drying.”
“Be that as it may,” Jean said, “It’s much more efficient to just let the pan soak overnight.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want our new guest to think we’re all slobs,” Scott said.
“No, not all of us,” Jean said and leaned in to peck him on the cheek. “Just you.”
“Says the woman who --”
Bing-Bong.
“Hold that thought, Summers.” She poked him playfully in the chest. “Better yet, forget it before it gets you in trouble. I’ll go let her in.”
“Jubilee, that means you’re tapping in,” Scott said. “Jubilee?”
He said this to the girl sitting in the back of the kitchen on one of the counters, listening through a pair of bulky headphones while she toyed around on a holopad.
Jubilee, Jean said to her telepathically. I know you can hear me, at least.
“Oh come on,” the girl said. “Can’t a girl have some peace? Why can’t we just use the dishwasher?”
“Well, someone forgot to run it this morning after breakfast,” Scott said.
“Even through your glasses, I know you’re giving me the stink-eye,” Jubilee groaned as she slid off the counter. “And I don’t like it.”
Jean offered the towel to the girl with a wink, who took it and held it like it was a dead animal rather than a damp towel. Jean made her way from the kitchen into the dining room, and finally to the entryway where she could see the silhouette of someone through the frosted glass of the double-doors.
Taking one more moment to rehearse her introductions, Jean inhaled and pulled the metal handle of the door, revealing their guest.
“Hi,” Jean said with a smile. “You must be Anna.”
“Hi,” the young woman before her said. Behind her, the constant flow of pedestrians continued, not one paying any mind to them. “And yes.”
Jean stepped to the side and pulled the door open. “Come on in. It’s really pouring out there.”
Anna walked through, bringing in with her the smell of rain and car exhaust. She pulled back the hood to her rain slicker, revealing her short hair pulled back into a ponytail. For the most part, her hair was brown, but her bangs were snow white. She dropped her backpack on the floor and pulled off her jacket as she looked around wide-eyed at everything from the ornate wood walls to the chandelier hanging in the anteroom before them and the various portraits of stuffy-looking men and women from yesteryear. It would have been beautiful if not for the layer of dust and decay it seemed to take on throughout the years. Even the air had a stagnant smell to it like she had just walked into an old library rather than a mansion.
Jean, meanwhile, couldn’t help but stare at their new guest’s clothing: an oversized sweater that had been cut into a crop-top and worn over a black dress that went down to her knees, which met with a pair of long combat boots worn over black tights. Somehow, she felt out of place in her khakis and cardigan.
“Ah didn’t catch your name,” Anna said, noticing the stare.
“Oh right. Jean Grey.” She held her hand out for a shake, but the woman just stared at it.
“Sorry, Ah don’t really...do physical contact,” Anna said.
“Right,” Jean said and shook her head. “Sorry, the professor filled me in on your mutation.”
“S’alright,” she said.
“Did you find the place okay?” Jean asked.
“Sure,” Anna said.
There was a moment of nothing but muffled chatter from the kitchen as Jean tried to think of something else to add. But she couldn't and the silence only seemed to stifle her attempts further.
“Well, let me show you your room.”
Before she could grab it herself, Jean picked up Anna’s bag and stepped out of the entryway to a foyer that led to a grand staircase immediately ahead of them and two corridors to the left and right. Anna looked up at the chandelier that was directly above them, and continued to gawk at the furniture and antiquities that looked like they would crumble if she were to even touch them. Jean started up the stairs, creaking with each step.
“To the right is the living room/sitting room area and to the left is the dining room, which leads to the kitchen.” She stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back to Anna. “Have you eaten anything? We were just cleaning up dinner, but there are leftovers in the fridge we can heat up for you if you’re hungry.”
“Yeah,” Anna said, still taking everything in. “Maybe later, sugah.”
They made their way up the stairs, where it split off to the left and right again. Jean led Anna to the left. Down the hall, there were ten identical doors, each twenty feet from the other.
“This is my room,” Jean said, pointing a thumb at the first room. At the second, she said, “This is Jubilee’s -- you’ll meet her later. The next is Kitty’s and after that Illyana’s and finally Betsy’s and then Xian’s. The attic is Cal’syee’s and the boys have the hallway on the other side of bathrooms.”
Jean stopped at the seventh door down.
“This is your room,” she said and held out a closed fist. Anna reached forward and Jean dropped a metal key into her gloved hand. “And this is your key.”
For a moment, Anna was unsure what to do. She hadn’t been here more than ten minutes and already she was being given a key to a room that, even from the outside, looked larger than anywhere she had ever lived before. With Jean watching her, Anna put the key into the lock and turned, opening the door into a room furnished with a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Anna stepped inside and went to the window that hung over the desk and peered out.
The view was anything but grand--it merely looked out into a narrow alleyway where she saw people in wet and stained clothes underneath whatever coverage they could find. A few had even made fires in trash cans and other debris to keep warm.
“It’s not much, but it’s yours.” Jean waited for a response and then said, “What do you think?”
“It’s...nice. Thank you,” Anna said. Jean looked a little deflated at her reaction. “But how in the world is a place like this even here? This is a mansion that should be on one of those private islands in the Pacific, not in New York. Y’all even have extra rooms and you’re givin’ one of them to me. For free.”
“Well…” Jean began. “Because of the professor’s telepathic abilities, and we are able to create a psychic shield, augmented by Shi’ar tech, making it so no one knows this place even exists if we don't want them to.”
“What do people see instead?”
Jean smiled. “Just another building. One that no one would be interested in.”
Anna thought about this, feeling a mixture of gratitude and, strangely, guilt. Before this, Anna was another girl living wherever she could find that wasn't in the rain, in an alleyway, or in the sewers with the fabled Morlocks. Now she was an adult, just like Jean, and could fend for herself. Why had she been asked to be here?
“There are surely people that deserve this more than me, though…”
“Maybe,” Jean said bluntly. “I’m sure there are plenty that deserve my room more than me, but the Professor sees in us something that can be honed and crafted to help the ones who do need it. To train us to solve the problems we don't know we will have yet. Otherwise, we are always going to be playing catch-up with our current problems. The Professor will give you the Big Speech we all got when the two of you meet, but that’s why you’re here.”
Anna considered Jean’s words and although she followed her logic, there was still something about all of her situation that just didn’t sit right. How exactly could her own powers be “honed” to solve any problems?
“Well, I’ll let you get settled,” Jean finally said. “But if you’re up for it, feel free to come down to the living room. Most of us will be down there watching TV and I know everyone will want to meet you. Or grab a bite first.”
“Okay. That sounds good,” Anna said, although she immediately regretted it and wished for nothing more than to be left alone in her room to read her book, sleep, or one and then the other.
But this was a new chapter in Anna’s life, one that she couldn’t let be written for her like it had for so long in her previous stories.
“Hey, Jean,” Anna said before she could leave. “Thank you.”
The woman’s smile radiated from her almost as warm as her red hair.
As soon as she heard the door latch click, Anna fell back into her bed and soaked into it. She always made it a point to not become too comfortable with anywhere she would call “home”, but dammit, if these people weren’t making it pretty hard to stick by that rule.
#
Less than an hour after he watched the figure go into the mansion, Remy found his way across the street and in the alleyway between it and one of the skyscrapers. There were a few people huddled underneath a make-shift awning around burning trash cans, but it was still empty compared to a lot of alleyways he found himself in. None of the people seemed to pay any attention to the man aside from a sideways glance here or there.
He found one of these burning trash cans that had only two people standing near it and joined them. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he held them over the fire, feeling the heat dry out his gloves and creep up his forearms.
One of the people, a man wearing an old Yankees beanie, said, “Got a smoke?”
“Oui,” Remy replied and pulled out a pack. He offered one to him, who gratefully took it with a nod, and lit it with his Zippo. He then offered a smoke to the other person, but she just shook her head, so he took it for himself. “So, what do you know about dis building here? Who owns it?”
The Yankees man turned and looked at the mansion and then turned back to the fire. “Dunno. Stark, maybe? Or Osborne? They seem to own every other building.”
“Ever see anyone go in or out?”
The man shrugged. “Maybe. Not sure.”
Remy bit his lip, feeling the slight pang of frustration.
“How ‘bout you?” he asked the woman. “Know anything about this building?”
“The hell do I look like?” the woman said. “It’s a building. There are lots of ‘em in the city. Some people live in ‘em and some aren’t that lucky.”
“Right,” he said with an inaudible sigh. He looked around it but saw no great point of entry. There were windows all around the mansion, but all of them were closed and he didn’t believe anyone in this city was dumb enough to close a window without locking it.
There was, however, a balcony on the third floor that seemed to call out to him. It was small, but ornate, with a concrete railing that looked almost Grecian and a few potted plants (surely they couldn’t be real) lining it. What attracted the man to this spot, however, was the open balcony door that swayed gently in the wind. The only problem was the height.
Then he looked behind him. Up the side of the skyscraper ran a fire escape in a zig-zag pattern. There was a good fifteen feet between the buildings, but he had gotten over worse jumps.
“Well, mes amis,” Remy said, “I would love to stay and enjoy your company, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to bid you adieu.”
The Yankee man waved with the cigarette pinched between his fingers but the woman said nothing.
Remy wasn’t paying attention to either person, though, as he got to the base of the fire escape and pulled himself up the cold and wet rungs. The escape was slippery, of course, but the man’s boots still did their part in giving him enough traction as he carefully made his way down the walkway and to the next set of stairs. If the rain did let up, even just a little bit, this jump would be no problem at all.
And then something stopped the man at the steps. He just happened to look across to the mansion and saw that one of the rooms was lit. Normally this caused him to do nothing more than a cautionary check of the room, but when he did so, he saw a woman like none that he had ever seen.
This woman lied in a plain looking bed in the room, her eyes closed but not sleeping. She had white bangs and brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and she was beautiful.
“Hmm.” The man watched her for a moment longer and then continued up the steps. “I’ll see you later, chere.”
#
There was a silence in this room the likes of which Anna had never really experienced before. Other than the rain tapping outside of the window, she heard muffled laughter in the lower level, but it was still a rare thing to be away from the constant hum and clatter of the city while still being in the heart of it. If she wasn’t careful, she would drift asleep.
Rubbing her eyes, Anna sat up and was about to undress when she realized the blinds to her window were up. In fact, there were no blinds at all. She studied the window frame until she found a black strip of glass at the base. Anna touched it gently and suddenly the hue of the window went darker by a shade. Poking it to the right caused it to brighten again, so she dragged her finger to the left until the windows became pitch black.
“That just seems like an excessive use of technology,” she said to herself and changed.
Making her way out of her room and down the staircase, she wasn’t sure if she should check in with the rest of her new roommates or if she should get a bite to eat. The chatter coming from the living room sounded friendly enough and part of her wanted to get the awkwardness of introductions out of the way, but on the other hand, she hadn’t eaten anything other than an egg roll from a pop-up truck in Manhattan. When a gurgle came from her stomach, Anna knew her decision had been made for her.
The kitchen, as everything in this mansion, was a cross-section of the old and the new. The cabinets were all made of intricately carved redwood with marble countertops, all of which were probably put in this place before Contact Day. The floors were tiled in some geometric patterns of blue, yellow, and white. Even the dishes and silverware looked like they could be sold in some back-alley pawn shop to make a small fortune.
This all clashed with the appliances, each of which was state-of-the-art. There were multiple fridges and freezers lining the walls that looked like a miniature spaceship. The ovens and stoves glared at Anna, daring her to try to work them using the strange knobs and illuminated buttons that adorned them.
She went to one of the fridges and opened it. A light slowly glowed to life, displaying pristine racks of vacuum-sealed corn, carrots, peas, and other vegetables. She moved on to the next fridge and inside, she found it full of drinks: milk, juice, soda, and a six-pack of beer with two bottles missing and a note that read, “Logan’s - DON’T TOUCH” with a smaller note added later, “That means you, Bobby.”
On her third try, Anna found a fridge full of leftovers and a random assortment of junk food. She made herself a plate of lasagna and took it to one of the microwaves, but was once again stopped in the face of new technology. There was no handle to open the door with.
“Having trouble, mein freund?” a voice said from behind her.
Anna turned and saw a man, or what looked like a man with blue skin, three digits on his hands and feet, and a tail that ended in a point. His eyes glowed yellow between a pair of pointed ears, making him look like some sort of a demon, but the smile on his face was friendly enough to show Anna that he was not.
“Yeah,” she said. “Ah’m a little technologically handicapped it seems.”
“The first time I tried using one of these, I turned my oatmeal into an ashen crisp,” the man said and then held up his hands. “Fat fingers, I guess.”
He pressed one of the buttons on the microwave, which released the door, and then took the plate from Anna and placed it in. He set it for a couple minutes and turned back to her with a big smile.
“Easy as that,” he said. “I’m Kurt, by the way. Or Nightcrawler.”
“Anna-Marie. Or Rogue.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” he said with a very formal bow. “I must say, most people scream or look like they want to scream when they meet me. My appearance doesn’t seem to affect you.”
Anna smiled. “Ah’ve traveled around quite a bit, sugah. The last group Ah ran with was full of mutants, many of ‘em a lot stranger looking than you.” She winced a little and shook her head. “Sorry, Ah didn’t mean it like that.”
“No need to apologize, fräulein,” Kurt replied. “We were all created in God’s image. For some of us, perhaps, his image was a little...stranger.”
The microwave dinged and just as Kurt was about to press the button to release the door, Anna beat him to it, releasing the steamy smells of reheated cheese, noodles, and tomato sauce.
“You need a fork,” Kurt said. In a puff of smoke, he disappeared and reappeared across the room, where he fished a fork out of a drawer and teleported back to her.
“So, you’re a teleporter,” Anna said, noting Kurt’s look of pride when she said it. “That’s a lot more fun than my power.”
“Which is?”
“Ah touch you, you go into a coma and Ah get your memories and your powers. For a little while, at least.” Anna dug into the lasagna with a fork and blew on it and took a bite. She took a moment, relishing the taste, trying to remember the last meal she had that wasn’t either pre-packaged or bought from a food truck.
“Ah,” Kurt said. “Jean mentioned to us that you … ‘don’t do physical contact.’”
After another bite, Anna said, “Believe me, it’s for your own good.”
The door to the kitchen opened and in stepped a couple more people Anna had not met yet. One was a man who looked younger than he probably was, followed by a young woman, who was as young as she looked. The man was dressed in a pair of blue gym shorts and a white t-shirt while the woman was dressed in a pink tank and sweats, a pair of headphones hanging around her neck.
“Hey, Kurt, where’s the popcorn, buddy?” the man said and then he saw Anna. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t realize…”
“It’s okay,” Kurt said, gesturing to the couple. “Anna, this is Bobby Drake and Jubilation Lee.”
Bobby nodded while Jubilee offered a wave.
“How do you like the lasagna?” Bobby asked. “I tried a new recipe with it.”
Jubilee slugged him on the arm. “Oh, stop trying to take credit for Piotr’s meal.”
“Well, Ah suppose Ah’ll have to tell Piotr it was delicious,” she said.
While they chatted, Kurt had been teleporting around in quick BAMFs, grabbing bags of popcorn, shoving them in microwaves, and getting a stack of bowls. When he was finished, the kitchen smelled of popcorn and the bowls were all full and placed on different trays.
“Well,” Kurt said. “Do you want to meet the rest of our little family of mutants?”
“Sure,” Anna said, picking up a tray. “Lead the way.”
#
The journey from the fire escape up to the rooftop was the easy part of Remy’s journey. The tricky part was getting onto the balcony without either falling and breaking 90% of his bones or making too much noise and having the inhabitants hear him. There was a railing, but it was wood and, judging by the look of the rest of the mansion, might have been rotten. Inside, it was dark and motionless, so it was safe to assume there was no one inside, meaning he wouldn’t have to be too stealthy, but the occupant could also have easily been asleep.
Then he took a better look at the stone around the base of the roof. Parts of it jutted out, like stone support beams, and would no doubt be slick, but they would hold better than the railing.
Without taking another moment to think about how dumb of an idea this was, the man dried his hands, climbed over the railing of the fire escape and jumped. The rain swept into his eyes, stinging them, as if another force was trying to blind him in this most critical of moments, but through sheer force of will, he lept them open-- the timing had to be just right. In the fraction of a second, the man landed on the roof, sliding down at an alarming speed due to the rain, until the very last moment when he hooked around the stone and pulled around to the balcony. His hand started to slip, causing him to fall, but his reflexes kicked in and he landed on his feet in a crouched position.
“Dat coulda been bad,” Remy whispered to himself.
Straightening himself out, the man looked around inside from where he could be seen, but saw no person nor camera. So, he stepped through the open double doors.
The first thing he noticed was the smell. There was a fragrance in the air -- not unpleasant -- that permeated everything, which he could only describe as being “fresh”. He soon came to realize that it was from the plants that hung from the ceiling and crowded around the windows. The one nearest to him was a large-leafed plant with a light blue flower sprouting from the middle of its stem. He felt the leaf with caution and almost couldn’t believe it was real. This one plant, alone, would fetch a large price in the Market.
Next he noted the furniture: a large, unmade bed with clothes strewn about around it; a dresser with various rubbish on it including a necklace made out of a purple gemstone he didn't recognize (but pocketed anyways);and a table and chairs, also full of crumpled clothes and rubbish.
“The femme’s a little messy,” he said to himself again. “But she’s got taste.”
At that moment, the winds grew wild and lightning cracked nearby, the thunder following almost immediately. The storms had gotten worse in the city, but he hoped it would help cover up the minimal noise he would make. Still, he crept as silently as he could to the door and cracked it open. A set of stairs led to an open hallway below, which seemed to lead to split off into two more hallways. Outside of the door, he heard voices grow nearer, one male and one female.
“She seemed nice enough,” said the woman.
“I'm sure she is,” said the man. “But why would the professor choose her? She's basically an energy leech.”
“Scott,” the woman said as the pair walked by the staircase. She was a redhead and he had a red visor over his eyes. The visor even seemed to be attached to his face.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm not judging her. I just wonder...why...ya know?”
“I may read minds,” the redhead said. “But even the professor’s thoughts are out of my reach. I'm sure Anna wouldn't be here unless she had a key role to play in all this.”
The voices faded away, leaving the man as he made a mental note to stay from whomever Anna was.
After another quick scan of the hallway, he pushed the door open, but made it no further than an inch before he felt a hand grasp his arm and hurl him backwards, causing him to skid on his back into the clothes.
“Damn,” the man said, picking himself up. “Not many people can sneak up on me.”
“Who are you?” asked a woman who stood before him. At first, she appeared to him as the Angel of Death, her black wings spread wide and her eyes ablaze with fire, but when he took another look, he realized she was a woman, although maybe not human.
“Merci. I must've taken a wrong turn.”
Her wings flared, showing off a pair of talons at their joint statement. “Lie to me again and I will rid you of your spine and feed it to you.”
“I'm just a common thief, looking to score a quick buck,” the man said, his hands raised in an attempt to assuage her.
“No common thief would be able to break into this place.”
“Anyone can walk through an open door, cherie,” the man said.
The winged woman thought for a moment. “What do you want?”
Remy smiled. “Just a tour of the place, specifically what ya’ll got in the basement. Or the sub-basement. Or even the second sub-basement.”
“No,” the woman said plainly.
“Shame.” With his arms still outstretched, he produced a pair of playing cards in his knuckles. The cards themselves began to glow pink. “Woulda made things a lot easier for you.”
#
Anna sat on an overstuffed chair by herself, on display in a semi-circle of her new roommates who were sitting in couches, loveseats, or just on the floor. They were mostly looking at her, except for the one with the metal wings (William was it? Or Warren?), who seemed distracted. She met Piotr Rasputin and his sister Illyana, Xian Coy Manh, Kitty Pryde, and James Proudstar. Of course, Anna forgot half of their names as soon as they were introduced, but she would worry about that some other time.
“I love your accent,” Kitty said. “Where are you from originally?”
“Mississippi,” Jubilee replied. “She already said that.”
“You’re a long way from home,” Bobby said.
“Not as far as some,” Xian said.
Kurt appeared in the center of the room after teleporting the empty bowls back to the kitchen. With him he had more refreshments, including beer and wine. Bobby grabbed a glass of wine and began to hand it to Jubilee before pulling it back with a snide grin. Jubilee responded by mouthing an obscenity to him.
“Well, what do you think of the institute so far?” Kurt asked, offering the tray to Anna.
“Ah feel a little like Ah just joined a sorority or something,” she said, taking a beer.
“Some days, it definitely feels like it,” Xian said.
“Who would be president?” Scott said as he entered the living room with Jean.
“Do we need to put it to a vote, Mr. Summers?” Jean asked.
Anna noted that she was now in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Scott, similarly, was in gym shorts and a t-shirt, his hair damp and combed to the side.
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” He smiled and shook his head.
“How was the Danger Room?” Bobby asked. “Looks like things got...physical.”
Jean rolled her eyes. “Maybe you’re a freaky masochist that likes to get ‘physical’ in the Danger Room, but not I.”
“By the way,” Scott said, his face growing redder and redder. “Kurt, you and Xian are on-deck. Neal and Betsy are suiting up to start a session now.”
Warren perked up at that and watched Kurt walk over to Xian and extend a hand to help her from her seat.
“Shall we take the stairs, fräulein, or shall we take the fast way?”
Xian took his hand and said, “Let’s just take the stairs. The last time you teleported me, I felt nauseous for the rest of the night.”
“Do you guys mind if I tag along?” Warren asked.
Kurt and Xian looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure, Warren.”
Together, the three of them left as the rest of the group looked on in silence. Once they were out of earshot, Kitty was the first to break.
“Oh man, poor Betsy,” she said. “Warren wears his jealousy on his sleeve like those new cufflinks he bought last week.”
“Oh yeah,” Jubilee said, rolling her eyes. “Woe is Betsy. She’s got all the men falling at her feet.”
“The last time a man fell at my feet,” Illyana said, “it was because a demon I was hunting had used him as a vessel. So, I was forced to tear his heart out.”
The room was again silent. Piotr, a look of sadness on his face, placed his hand on his sister’s shoulder and said, “Maybe not the best time to talk about your time in Limbo.”
Once again seeing the opportunity to change the subject, Scott noticed Anna in her chair and waved to her. “Hi, you must be Anna Marie. I’m Scott.”
“Nice to meet you,” Anna said for what felt like the 20th time that night.
Scott then went down the “Get to Know Your New Housemate” checklist of questions, each of which she had also answered already that night. She felt the weight of everyone watching her answer, which began to dig into her head. Were they judging her or was this just a spectacle to them? Which was worse?
Before she could decide and before the conversation could go on too much longer, a muffled boom came from outside. Everyone froze and looked towards the window, almost expecting the walls to come down on them. Without another moment’s hesitation, Scott snapped to attention and something came over him.
“That’s not from the Danger Room,” James said. Scott nodded in agreement.
“Bobby, Piotr, James,” he said. “You’re with me. The rest of you, stay here.”
“I’m going too,” Jean said.
“I need you to contact the professor,” he replied.
“I can do both.”
Scott, either not wanting to waste anymore time or because he actually believed her, nodded and took off running towards the door. The rest followed, with Bobby the last to go with them. He set his wine on the table, spilling a little onto the glass surface, and pointed to Anna as he left.
“Don’t let Jubilee drink that!”
#
The rain turned into a downpour. Thunder rumbled at a steady peace, as if it were the heartbeat of the world, and lightning turned the night into day in uneven flashes. The alleyway was now deserted and the air smelled more like smoke from the doused barrels.
Remy caught his breath as he and his opponent studied one another. She stood before him, stone-faced and poised for an attack.
“What's your name, anyway?” the man asked.
“They call me ‘Deathbird’,” she said.
“Dat seems appropriate,” he said.
“And you are?”
Remy also paused for a moment. “Gambit.”
“Surrender, Gambit,” Deathbird said. “And any injuries you sustain tonight will be minimal.”
“Now, Deathbird,” Remy replied, “do you even know who it is running the show in that mansion? Do you know who you work for?”
“Of course I do. Professor Xavier is a credit to the mutant race.”
Remy shook his head with a pitied grin. “She's really got you brainwashed in there, huh?”
No reply came from the woman. Instead, she lowered her wings and flew at Remy, who dropped to a knee and grabbed for the ground and somersaulted out of the way. The moment he regained his footing, he retaliated, his cards ready in one hand and his staff in the other.
Remy charged his cards and threw them. Deathbird used her wings to produce a gust of wind that sent the cards into a crooked spin. They collided with the wall of a building next to them, spraying debris onto the woman but leaving her otherwise unharmed, which gave Remy another moment to pounce.
With his bo staff extended, Remy jumped towards the woman, meaning to bring the staff down onto her head to knock her unconscious. At the last second, however, when the staff was just about to make contact, Deathbird parried with her forearm and slashed at the man with her wing. Remy dodged it and then parried with his staff.
“Deathbird!” came a voice in the alley. It was Jean and she was followed by Bobby, in full ice form; James, a pair of daggers in hand; Colossus, his indestructible, metallic skin shining in the neon rain; and Scott, his visor gleaming red in anticipation of the fight.
“Hey,” Remy said, picking himself up and shaking off the rubble from his coat. “Dis is between me and her.”
“I'm afraid that if you fight one X-Man, you're fighting all of them,” Scott said.
Remy knew that's what this man with the visor would say, but he didn't care. It was only meant to give him enough time to find his cards and charge the entire pack.
“So be it.”
Pinching the cards back, Remy released them and sprayed all 52 of his cards in a scattered trajectory. One by one, the cards exploded around the four X-Men, who dove out of the way. Colossus was the only one to be very close to the explosions, and although none of them hurt him, they were still able to throw him off his feet.
The first to recover was Scott, who pressed his visor and sent a red beam through the air at Remy, but he dodged it as he leaped past Deathbird.
“I can't get a read on him,” Jean said. “He's blocking everything I throw at him.
This news had troubling implications to Scott. He had watched Jean subdue ten men at once with just a thought. But this one seemed unphased.
“Sounds like we need to throw something else at him, then.”
#
There were four more explosions since the initial one that sent the others out to investigate. Anna knew this because Kitty had counted each one.
“Why aren't we out there?” Kitty asked.
“That's...a good question,” Jubilee replied. “We’re all technically adults, right? They might need us out there.”
“All in favor of…” Kitty began to say, but it was too late. Jubilee was already running for the door, with everyone but Anna following her.
Anna looked to Kitty, a little unsure of what to do, but Kitty just shrugged.
“The people have spoken,” she said and took off, Anna close behind her.
Outside, the scene was chaotic. There were five X-Men fighting one lone figure in a trench coat and holding a staff. The lone figure seemed to be dodging every attack the X-Men threw at him, but he became increasingly slow with each dodge.
James got closer to Remy, slashing away with quick precision and even landed a cut on his chest, but Remy was able to parry and answer with a hit to James’s stomach. James did not let up, though, and kept stabbing and slashing at Remy, using his brute force to drive him to the wall.
With his back against the wall of the neighboring building, Remy displayed a burst of energy as he hit James high on the chest, then across the knee, making him buckle, before kicking him backwards. James landed at the feet of his teammates, who were now closing in on Remy.
With us lungs burning and multiple points on his body throbbing with pain, Remy pulled himself up with the aid of a dumpster near him and caught his breath. He wasn't out of the fight just yet. He had one more trick up his sleeve.
“You sure I can't interest you in surrendering?” he asked.
“I'm afraid not,” Scott said. “Unless it's your surrender.”
“Thought so,” Remy replied.
“Scott,” Jean shouted suddenly. “The dumps--”
With a kick, Remy released the glowing pink dumpster in their direction, which resulted in a deafening boom.
Anna watched the explosion push Scott up into the air towards the wall. Despite her better judgement -- or perhaps because of it -- she ran and flew up into the air, catching him before he could make contact. For a moment, Scott looked dazed, in a dreamlike state, not believing he was flying. Then he looked up to Anna and nodded a ‘Thanks’.
The explosion dazed everyone at the ground for a moment, allowing for Remy to get a good head start on the fire escape. He was almost halfway up when Deathbird registered the deception. She leaped up into the air, flying to the roof until she had cut off Remy at the top.
“You have fought well, human,” she said. “Now I will kill you.”
“I believe you could,” Remy said. He turned around to escape the other way but a white disc appeared, and out stepped a blonde teenager along with a girl chewing bubble gum, the latter’s hands beginning to sparkle. Then he felt a tugging on his pant leg and when he looked down, he saw another young woman phasing through the stairs.
“Time to bring you back back down to earth,” she said
Before Remy could react, he was sinking through the escape, level by level. Each time, he could feel the metal go through him, but it didn’t hurt. The sensation was more like a tingle in his skin and he thought he could taste nickels in his mouth.
The ground that he hit, however, did hurt. But the real pain he felt was in his mind. Something was worming its way into his brain, struggling to get in, but inching in no less.
Anna dropped Scott back down on the ground, where Jean awaited him. She asked if he was hurt and he was, but he shook his head no.
“You know you can’t lie to me that easily,” Jean said. “We should get you to Reyes.”
In her periphery, Anna saw a figure approach from the shadows. This figure put their hand up to their head and the next thing she knew, this rogue mutant was on his knees, clutching his own head.
“Get outta my...,” he said with gritted teeth. And then he was unconscious.
“Ah,” the figure said. “It seems we had an intruder.”
“Professor,” Scott said, standing at attention.
A woman stepped forward, no taller than five feet and completely bald, with a knowing smile on her face. She was dressed in plain, khaki-colored clothes, with a pair of riding boots and had her hands clasped behind her back.
“You must be Anna,” the woman said with a nod. “A pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. My name is Cassandra Nova Xavier. Welcome to my school.”
#
Epilogue:
The streets around the Xavier Mansion were always restless, pedestrians walking to and from home or work in a seemingly endless stream. Below the sidewalks, where the lights of the city penetrated the sewers through grates and storm drains, there was another that was returning home from work. He shuffled along the ledge, careful not to step into the sewage, until he came to a ladder, which he climbed up and through a manhole cover right in front of the mansion.
The man didn’t knock, he just opened the door and collapsed to his knees.
“I’m home!” he said and then collapsed in a pool of blood, some of it his.
Jubilee, who had stayed up late to watch TV, tore around the corner and stopped when she saw the man unconscious and bleeding on the floor.
“Logan?” she said. “What happened to you?”