Chapter Text
The X-Corp offices in Paris seemed fairly quiet at night, the soft breeze outside barely bothering the sleep of its residents. In fact, I could only see a few guards patrolling the lower levels, dangerously used to the lack of incidents in the city; mutants had often found Europeans to be more tolerant than their American counterparts, and that notion had certainly lulled them into a false sense of security over the years.
Since X-Corp had been resurrected, after several years of inactivity, the sizeable glass window building had changed purposes: what had been simply an administrative outpost, designed to legally and financially aid mutants overseas, was now also a home to many of them who sought asylum yet wished to remain in the continent.
The higher floors, which served as modern residential spaces, were actually largely undefended. Not that heavier security would necessarily have been able to stop me -it definitely wouldn’t have-, but as I walked discreetly past a long series of doors in my black-clad uniform, it did worry me that such a great number of our kind were unprotected so. After all, the very reason we existed was that not every mutant could rely on their own fighting skills to survive. I would need to discuss it further with the Director when I met with him.
Making sure not to be seen and thus raise any unpleasant alarms, I stuck to the walls and continued until I reached the end of the hall, where the directorial suite awaited behind a metal door slightly thicker than the rest. I thought about knocking, but quickly discarded the idea; there wasn’t much courtesy in dropping unexpectedly in the dead of night, anyways. Grinning to myself, I drew a hand out and my massive soulsword spawned between my fingers. Unleashing it felt amazing-it really was a part of me. I swirled it with only one hand, creating a golden fiery disk around my feet, and then swiftly teleported inside the room.
I found the couple deeply asleep on the bed, his wide feathered wings completely encapsulating her lightly-clothed body in a protective manner while her lilac hair fell across his naked chest. None of them appeared to stir by my arrival; the scene was intimate and lovely, and I stood for a moment to admire it. The two people curled upon one another had never been my closest partners, but years of fighting alongside each other made me consider them part of my extended family nonetheless. We had lived and laughed and died together, and I almost felt bad about disturbing their peace now that they seemed to find it in their love. Almost.
Taking the precaution of standing back a few steps, I cleared my throat softly. My soulsword had retreated into myself once again, and I tried to appear as non-threatening as possible, but it hardly mattered once the woman opened her eyes and saw someone unexpected standing in the bedroom. She immediately jumped forward, waking her companion in the process, and covered the ground between us in a split second; in the same movement, she extended her hand and a vibrant ray of purple light surged forward, forming into a menacing knife beneath my chin. She had done it all in the blink of an eye. When I locked into her gaze, I could see how the murderous look shifted into something more familiar, yet still fierce, as she recognized me.
―Illyana? ―she asked confusedly, without lowering her blade. I couldn’t blame her; despite the unbreakable bond among us, fate had placed us in opposing sides on more than one occasion, the last one not so long ago.
―Elizabeth ―I called, suppressing a smile―, I come in peace.
Her glare lingered for a second, examining my expression, and then receded to give way to an honest grin. She then drew her weapon back into her hand and threw her arms around me, covering me in a quick hug.
―It is good to see you, Illy ―she said once she stepped back. I stared in surprise for a second. Psylocke had never been one to display much affection; she must have been much happier recently.
―Yeah, even if the hour is somewhat ridiculous ―exclaimed the man behind her, still stretched in bed. His white wings were fully expanded now, spanning over five meters wide. It amazed me how, even half asleep, he carried his usual smug face, as if his powers would somehow impress me.
―I’m sorry to inconvenience you so, Warren. I know how precious the Paris Director’s sleep must be, but the mission had to remain secret to the outside. It was no trouble, really ― I smirked, and then added in a more serious note―. You should build up your defences, though. With urgence.
Psylocke’s expression turned a bit somber and shook her head tiredly.
―Sabra and I have already told him we could come up with the surveillance system and test it ourselves, but he seems to believe we have no need for it. As always, he sees the best in humanity ― she added that last part in an affectionate tone I could hardly believe had come from her.
―Isn’t he an angel? ― I chuckled.
Angel finally stood up and approached us from his side of the bed. I noticed his chest was still naked, but thought nothing of it; I didn’t want him to have to fold his wings, and there was no point in wearing a suit if he was going nowhere. Besides, I have never been shy.
―So, what news of home? Are we at peace at last? ―he questioned me. He had done a good job staying out of the conflict between the various X-Men factions in the past years, but it was clear he despised the situation. Everyone did.
I looked at him sternly.
―As long as there are those who hate us, we will never be at peace ―I answered.
―That’s not what I…
―I know that’s not what you meant ―I interrupted coldly, and then forced myself to control my temper. I was feeling on edge ever since I had been recruited for this mission, but I still knew I was doing the right thing―. I’m sorry. But yeah. Scott and Ororo have come to terms. All the students are in Westchester under her direction now.
Psylocke and Angel beamed at each other and he passed an arm around her waist. I could tell they had both hoped this would happen sooner rather than later. In the end, we all agreed we were much stronger together.
―What about the X-Men? Have they merged as well?― she asked, turning to me. I knew how smart she was; she would be a fool not to suspect anything. However, she hadn’t read my mind yet. I sighed.
―Kind of. There will be two teams-one lead by Rogue, based at the school, and one lead by Cyclops. Hope’s group will handle most of the pickups ― I stated matter-of-fact, my gaze fixed on hers, before I added the last part―. X-Force has been disbanded for now.
The woman’s violet eyes slightly opened with realization. If Cyclops’ union with Storm had eliminated the need for X-Force, then it surely meant his team would replace it. Suddenly, I felt the touch of her mind making her way on my thoughts. I lowered my psionic shields and mentally forwarded what she was looking for: Cyclops discussing our mission with me, the reasons I had accepted to join him, our choice in candidates for our team. Our criteria for these candidates, too.
She frowned and stepped back until she reached the edge of the bed, where she sat, drowning her face in her hands. She had seen why we had chosen her, what she would have to do if she accepted the offer. Both Warren and I stood silently, giving her room to think. The truth was, it didn’t take much to see she wasn’t the same Psylocke as before, and I was pretty sure she knew that, too. Were the stakes high enough?
Illyana… The things I did under Cable… she spoke in my mind. I could feel her shame.
Were what you felt necessary at the time , I affirmed, kneeling in front of her so we faced each other. Yet that’s not what we ask of you. You saw that.
―You still want me to kill ― Betsy growled, this time out loud. It wasn’t a question.
Alarmed, Warren knelt as well, holding her hand as he did so. He didn’t look so smug all of a sudden-rather, he seemed worried.
―I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave… this ―she whispered to him.
―Betsy, love. Listen ―he said softly, his smile gentle―. This past year or so… It has been one of the best in my life. It has certainly been the happiest. But this is what we do. I know you’ll come back to me. Is this mission something you need to do?
She focused her vision on him, a single tear running through her cheek, and nodded.
―I think… If we do this right, then it could change everything. We could finally have our future.
―Then go. You will never be a monster, okay? I know you. I know your heart ―he answered heavily, as a few tears trickled down his face as well.
Betsy took a deep breath and pulled his face towards her without muttering another word, his forehead touching hers. They remained that way for a while -sharing a psychic conversation too private for my ears, I suppose- until they both leaned in and shared a heartfelt kiss. Meanwhile, I stared at the floor, hating myself for opening up her old wounds. Nonetheless, this was something I had to do, too.
Finally, she stood up and approached me, touching my shoulder lightly to call my attention. When I raised my eyes, the one I met wasn’t Warren’s Betsy at all, but rather the iron-willed Psylocke I had come looking for. Her eyes now were a hundred times colder; her jaw was clenched and her brow was fixed; she truly seemed a different person altogether.
I nodded goodbye towards Angel and he repeated the gesture, despite wearing a severe frown. Then I turned back to my companion.
―Point me to our enemies ―the ice in her voice pierced through the air.
―Yes ―I stated simply, already calling forth my sword―. But first… we shall meet the others.
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When we stepped out of our disk, we reappeared in a broad meeting area, surrounded by dozens of metal columns which embedded themselves in the walls and then met in the ceiling far above. Two opposing hallways stemmed from the place; the rest of the space between the columns was purely covered by windows. which kept giving me the impression of being inside a capsule. I knew that didn’t wander far from the truth.
I had decided that I desperately needed to see Psylocke’s reaction, so, as soon as we stepped on the metal floor, I directed her to the closest window.
She gasped quite noticeably.
―Is that…?
―It is! ―I grinned, enjoying her revelation. I live for the little moments.
She looked at me with a careful expression, unsure of what was happening.
―Why am I watching planet Earth from a window, Illyana? ―she murmured, to which I let out a quiet laugh and pointed to the center of the room.
She followed the direction of my finger and saw a wide war-table spread out and project a sea of intertwining holograms onto itself, displaying an array of faces, locations and descriptions. Sitting in a control pod in the middle was a dark haired woman, whose face was characteristically marked with two black scars beneath her eyes. As soon as she noticed us, she stood up and approached Betsy with a hand, but I knew some part of her was still dwelling on her assignment; it was, after all, part of her powerset. Working as a supercomputer, Sage could divide her attention as she saw fit without one activity influencing another in any way.
―Elizabeth Braddock, it is a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to Babylon Station ―the technopath announced as she shook the hand of the newcomer, without breaking a smile. She hardly ever did.
―The pleasure is mine, Tessa. It has been too long.
The stark contrast between the two was noticeable: while Sage wore a long black suit with red details that almost touched the floor, Betsy was still wearing the shorts and simple T-shirt she had been sleeping in.
―Well, well. Fuck me if this isn’t looking more and more like old Cable’s pack! ―exclaimed a voice behind us. As the three of us turned swiftly towards the call, Domino and Warpath emerged from the hallway on the right, and grins on both their faces as they recognized us. They were both suited up -he in white-black, she in full black- in what seemed to be reimagined black ops uniforms.
―Wrong Summers ―I laughed, and jumped to tackle my old teammate while Neena greeted Betsy with a hug. I was glad they got along; I felt responsible for Psylocke and it would unquestionably make things easier if she didn’t feel alone in the team.
As James Proudstar spun me through the air at his considerable height, I couldn’t help but think about all the time we had spent apart recently. However proud I felt about my work with Cyclops and Emma Frost -which is someone I would have never expected to some day consider a friend-, I still regretted the massive split the X-Men had experienced and that was only now starting to heal. This team was a fine attempt to do so: Scott and I from our old side, James and Betsy from Ororo’s, Neena and Tessa from neither. If we indeed managed to fulfill our goals, then we would prove the others we were still a family after all.
Our fearless leader showed up a little bit later, once we had all made acquaintances and were actually waiting for him. When his sight met mine as he entered the room, I gave him a small encouraging smile. I knew this was important to him.
―Hello, everybody. I’m glad to see you all. Please, take your seats ―greeted Cyclops in an amiable tone, and I’m guessing he was just as surprised as I was when he received an unexpected hug from Psylocke.
―It’s damn good to see you, Scott ―she stated as he dubiously wrapped his arms around her. Just a year ago, this would have been impossible. Things were changing already.
―Yeah, boss. How 's the lady? ―asked James as he took the seat next to mine. I gave him a little push with my shoulder to shush him up, but he gave me a wicked grin in return. I still remembered the time he was part of the Hellions before joining the New Mutants, and it seemed that so did he.
Scott looked a bit bewildered as Betsy liberated him from the embrace.
―If you are referring to the White Queen, Proudstar, then she’s hardly my “lady” anymore ―he answered seriously as he took the seat at the head of the table―. But she’s quite alright, thank you. Last I heard, she was discussing with Ororo which class to teach this semester. Rachel wasn’t too happy when she tried to take over telepathic self-defense.
That last part got a loud snort out of Psylocke. Although I hadn’t seen her in a while, I knew what she found hilarious: Rachel Summers, aka Prestige, was an unstoppable force of nature. There was no way Frost could steal one of her classes and get away with it.
―I don’t know how much Magik has told you already. so I will summarize everything we got so far ―Cyclops began, looking at our faces while he did so; I thought we looked eager―. The X-Men have come together and this is it. We are one of the two teams that will be operating simultaneously; our purposes, however, will be slightly different. While the team in Westchester will be the face of our people and take a more passive role, protecting the students and responding to calls for aid, we will do precisely the opposite. We will be the hand that strikes our foes; we will no longer wait for them to come to us. Instead, we will root them out and dispose of them once and for all.
― The mission is pretty straight-forward: we have simply accumulated too many enemies, many of which are mutants who have pitted public opinion against us. If we do not stop it now, the future generations that are now growing will be trapped in this infinite circle of violence. Humanity will fear mutants because of these individuals alone. Make no mistake: we will face humans if we have to, but our goal must be to clean our name to the public by eliminating these threats. People must know we are on their side-no real offensive can be launched against us without public support.
―Lastly, Magneto has created this orbiting station for us out of the remains of Avalon so we could employ it as a base. It’s got everything we need, from residential suites to a revamped Blackbird we can use if Illyana is unavailable.
―You should know you have all been picked because you’ve excelled in teams far more ruthless than the normal X-Men… and this group is cleared to take lethal action if necessary. We will try to make it without it, but our enemies’ death is an acceptable outcome; we need to make sure they’re not coming back. The time has come to secure the future of the mutant race. So what do you say?
The table had grown silent as we meditated Cyclops’ words. Even I, who had been aware of most of what he had said, had been taken aback by the certainty in his words. My doubts had vanished; in that moment, I believed in the mission more than in anything else.
I left my chair and raised my hand in the air, wielding my fiery soulsword towards the ceiling. Its light reflected on my face as I stared at Cyclops decidedly. Tessa nodded and followed, putting on her crimson cybernetic glasses as a sign of readiness. Domino and Warpath then shared a look and slowly stood up as well, her pistols already in her hands, his hands clenched into fists. The last one to agree was Psylocke; as she joined us, seemingly much more determined, the vibrant purple light erupting from her hand into a full psychic sword. Even in civilian clothes, she looked terrifying.
―Good ―said Cyclops, standing himself, the border of his visor gleaming with red in a fierce expression―, because our first target is Sinister and his Marauders.