This story takes place 6 months prior to the first issues of each Age of Onslaught Limited Series.
It had been nearly twenty years, perhaps more, since Onslaught first made his presence known to the world. It had started in New York City and spread out from there. Nobody could stop him. Those who did not align themselves to his cause were either killed or enslaved. Those who showed genetic potential were sent to the slave pits until they could prove their superiority. Every man woman and child in North America was affected. Never before has such a power, such an evil, taken as great a toll on the world. And no one was able to prevent him from doing so.
On this world there were no Fantastic Four or Avengers to protect humanity. There were only the all-powerful hordes of mutants, who flocked to Onslaught's side.
Onslaught, for those of you who have not yet heard, is a being of great power and great evil. His goal is a simple one - complete supremacy over humankind. For himself and his mutant followers. His army of Homo Superior warriors. His prelates.
It must have started about fifteen years ago. Onslaught had been gathering his forces long enough. It was time to strike. Before the humans even knew what hit them, the prelates had already managed to wipe out the entire east coast. The west was next to fall, followed by the nations to the north and south. Nowhere was safe. Nothing was sacred. They'd have conquered Africa and Europe by now if it hadn't been for the invention of the Sentinels.
The Sentinels. They were the Human High Council's breakthrough. It was with them that the humans learned there was a chance, even a remote one, that they could seize back what was rightfully theirs. But the Sentinels haven't been as effective as the High Council would have wished. They were only able to hold the mutants off for the moment, never enough to push them back entirely.
Now Africa is little more than a war-zone. Europe is running rife with spies for both sides. Any human with enough sense to value their life has emigrated to the safety of Russia or Japan, two nations once held in contempt by the others. The Human High Council was assembled as humanities' last organised government.
Onslaught, on the other hand, rules alone. New York is now nothing more than a monument to his will, renamed 'Onslaught Island' by those mutants who now reside there. It is here that he constructed his giant citadel, using nothing more than the power of his own mind to do so. It is the very heart of his empire.
And it is there that we shall take our first look at this barren world. This is the Age of Onslaught.
Onslaught Island, once New York City.
Scott Summers wiped the blood from his chin. His so-called lover, Jean Grey, always got physical -- or mental, rather -- using her telekinesis while they were together. Scott always came away from it covered in bruises. He hated her. He hated everything she stood for. It was everything he fought against. He was suddenly pushed into the laboratory by one of Onslaught's prelates, the name of which escaped Scott for the moment. The lumbering prelate sealed the door, leaving Scott alone with the two scientists to whom the laboratory belonged.
"Jean want a little lovin' today?" joked the scientist, nicknamed Beast. Hank McCoy's body was covered in white fur as a result of an experimental serum he had developed for Onslaught, giving him a bestial appearance.
"Very funny fuzzball," Scott growled.
"I thought it was," called a voice from the other end of the lab. Scott turned to see Beast's assistant, Henry Pym. The tall man saluted Scott and crossed the lab to him. "You come to see Rachel?" Hank asked. Scott nodded. "She's right over here."
"How far along is she in conditioning?" Scott asked, watching his daughter train against the prelates. Rachel was the daughter of Scott and Jean. Hank had given her a virus that advanced her age a full year in under a month. She was now biologically seventeen.
"One conditioning treatment left," Beast said from behind them.
"The one that makes her loyal to Onslaught." Scott punched the glass softly and scratched at his inhibitor collar. Jean didn't know about Rachel. She knew about the virus, and thought that when she gave birth to Rachel, the infant died due to it. She had no idea Rachel was still alive.
"Your time's up Summers," called a voice from the doorway. Scott turned to see Wolverine standing waiting for him.
"See you later Beast. You too, Hank," Scott said dejectedly.
"Sooner than you think," Beast said. He watched as the two men left the lab and then turned to his assistant, Hank Pym. "Remember what I said. Administer the TO virus once my life-signs cease."
"What are you thinking of doing old friend?" Pym asked.
"Freeing Cyclops."
Monster Island. Or what's left of it.
This place once belonged to creatures so bizarre, so hideous, that they had to keep their very existence a secret. But, like all things, the secret didn't remain that way for long. Just as he had wiped out the Avian and Subterranean races, Onslaught exterminated the creatures that roamed these lands as well - those "genetically impure" creatures that didn't deserve to live.
Now all that remained on Monster Island were dead bodies and burnt ashes. Dead bodies, and perhaps a few human refugees that were waiting to be taken to their new safe haven, away from the strife of Onslaught's America. They had a hard, long journey. Already their numbers had dwindled. Many had died already, their bodies cast out to sea. Many more were likely to die before they reach their final destination. How many they could never expect...
"Humans," she said. "I hate humans. Just the smell of them makes me want to vomit."
"C'mon Polaris, you can't really smell them, can you?" asked her teammate, the winged mutant known to some as Angel.
"Let's just get this over with, an' we can all go home," instructed Zaladane. To her right were the remaining two members of their little quintet, the mutant twins known as Northstar and Aurora.
They swooped down on the unsuspecting refugees, striking coldly and swiftly. Zaladane and Polaris used their combined might over magnetism to tear into the helpless humans, twisting and moulding the iron in their bloodstream, and tearing it out through their skins.
Northstar and Aurora used their combined powers to generate a blinding burst of light. Northstar then rushed the blinded fools, using his exaggerated speed to help add to the impact of his blows, crushing fragile bones in mere seconds.
Angel was the only one who doesn't participate. Instead he watched on from above, using his keen eyesight to orchestrate the maneuvers of his fellow prelates. "Northstar, there's a group trying to escape for the rafts."
And with that signal, Northstar used his super-speed to tear through those foolish enough to attempt escape within a matter of seconds. And then he stopped. He looked at a small boy, maybe ten or twelve years old. And he smiled, before running his fist through the boy's chest, killing him instantly.
"That was fun," Northstar sniggered. He turned around to look on at his sister for approval, but before his eyes could even register the image, a furious fist found its mark on Northstar's face. Northstar clutched at his jaw to find it had been torn from his face. He was bleeding heavily, and was in a state of shock. It never even occurred to him to look up at his assailant.
His name was Colossus. He was an X-Man, borne of steel and fury. He had seen this scene a thousand times before, but the pain and hurting never goes away. The anguish never leaves him.
"Animals." It's the first word to come to Piotr's lips. At his side were his fellow X-Men -- Legion, Havok, Scrambler, Storm and Nightcrawler. All watched on silently.
Behind their flank stood the man who had gathered them from the four corners of the globe and made them his X-Men. The enigmatic man from another world, known only as Bishop. By his side, as ever, stood his bodyguard Exodus and the mutant teleporter, Gateway. Crouched down at his feet, like some sort of bizarre pet, was the mutant tracker Caliban.
"NOOOO!!!" screeched Aurora as she saw her dying brother, face ripped apart by the huge metal X-Man. She swooped down at an awesome speed, firing uncontrolled blasts of light at the individual's responsible for her brother's wounds.
But before she could cause any permanent damage, the X-Man named Scrambler leaped onto her back, and negated her powers, sending them both careening towards the ground below. Quickly, before impact, Kurt Wagner, the teleporter known as Nightcrawler, came to his team-mate's aid, and transported him to a safe location, leaving Aurora to crash to the ground on her own power.
Zaladane was the next to make her move, using her powers over magnetism to twist the body of Colossus horribly. But before she could do any lasting damage, she started to feel her powers seeping out of her body, as if they were being siphoned off into another. That other was Rogue, a member of the X-Men.
"Don't worry Petey, Ah'll have ya straightened out in no time," Rogue assured her long-time lover, as she used her newfound mastery over metals to aid Colossus's plight.
Zaladane wobbled up to a vertical base, and attempted to use her powers to reverse the flow of iron to Rogue's brain, rendering her unconscious. But before she could do so, her skin suddenly burst into flames. This was Legion's doing. Zaladane screamed and screeched, her skin turning to ash.
"NO! Let her go gene-trash!" Polaris screamed, readying herself to attack her sister's assailant.
"No, Polaris, stand down. We've got to get out of here before they can do any more damage! Our work here's finished!" Angel ordered, pulling her back.
"NO, let me go!" Polaris screamed.
"This is for your own good!" Angle warned, as he injected a mild sedative into his partner's neck. "Mimic, get us out of here!" Angel ordered, as his erstwhile teammate used his powers to mimic those of Gateway, and sent the Prelates back to their base of operations, on Onslaught Island.
At the same time, Mimic used the powers gained from Polaris to magnetically pull his downed teammates - Northstar, Aurora and Zaladane - into the gateway, thus leaving no trace of the Prelates presence, other than the many dead bodies of a few helpless humans.
"This was a massacre," Bishop whispered.
"Do not blame yourself, old friend. We arrived too late to save them. It was not your fault. If only Clarity could have warned us sooner," Exodus said, attempting to console his friend.
"MasterBishop, Caliban senses more mutants, twentymiles from here. Now nineteenmiles from here," Caliban informed them, sulking at Bishop's feet.
"Is it more prelates?" Havok asked.
"Yes, hundredprelates." Caliban answered.
"It'll be a transport over to Africa. We'd better make ourselves scarce in case they spot us," Exodus suggested.
"Yes. Gateway, take us back home," Bishop ordered, as the aboriginal mutant opened another portal, back to the X-Men's home base in Australia.
INTERLUDE 1
The city formally known as Nashville, Tennessee...
Clarice Ferguson had been running for so many days she'd lost count. Every time she thought she'd gotten away he'd be there, scythe raised for the final blow. Then she'd use her powers to displace him, a temporary reprieve that served only to give her a running start.
She'd run and climbed and fought the urge not to vomit. The horrors she'd seen on the way were the stuff of nightmares. She ran past mounds of bodies, the cries of the dying giving her a pang of guilt. The smell and sight of the dead, as well as her hunter, urged her ever onward.
So she ran. She ran until she couldn't run anymore, and then she ran some more. When she really couldn't run anymore, she would collapse into a portal, appearing miles away. Taking advantage of whatever respite she could get, she would rest and find food, until he found her again. And so the chase had gone these many weeks.
But now, as she struggled to climb out of a charnel pit, she despaired. For an instant, the thought of just giving up entered her mind. She'd just lie down among the dead and join them. Perhaps he would pass by, unaware that his prey would be forever out of his reach? Or maybe he'd find her like he always has, and she'd have no place to run?
This was the only thing that kept her going. If it was just about death, she may have given in long ago. But something deep inside her knew that he wanted more than her life. When he first found her he could have killed her quickly, but obviously he had other plans.
That was the only thing that had kept her alive, and the only reason she had not yet killed herself was the fear that she might not succeed. The fear that before death had taken her completely, he would find her. He would save her, and she would suffer a fate far worse than any death she could imagine.
Finally, she couldn't run anymore. With an effort that could only be achieved through desperation, she blinked her eyes as she collapsed. She fell through the portal on the ground into a new place. In this temporary haven she could rest and prepare to run again.
Opening her eyes to her new surroundings, her blood ran cold, and her voice left her.
The massive man was like no other being she had ever seen. He stood over eight feet tall, with a penetrating stare and a long scythe for an arm. Most amazing of all was that he was covered with circuitry, as though he was more machine than man.
He had hunted her these long weeks. He had not only found her, he was waiting for her.
"A long and worthy growth, but now it ends. In your inexperience, your teleportations were in a specific pattern. First two hundred miles south; then three hundred miles south-east; then four hundred miles east, and finally, five hundred miles north-east. After the last three jumps I knew where to go right away. Now the season has ended, and the harvest has come at last."
Her purple eyes filled with tears as he raised his scythe. Just as before, wires and bits of metal snaked outward. Just as before, they wrapped around her. Just as before, she felt as though they were burrowing beneath her skin, merging with her organs and altering them. Just as before she blinked, hoping to displace this creature as she once did.
Unlike before, nothing happened. She was now too weak to defend herself. With a final prayer to a god she'd long since lost faith in, she closed her eyes and waited for the end.
Suddenly, with a crackle of thunder and the smell of burnt metal and flesh, she was freed. Opening her eyes, Clarice saw the scythe on the ground, along with all the wires and metals attached to it. It writhed as though it were alive, already crawling to the creature that had haunted her for so long.
Nearby, Clarice saw the cause of the creature's anguish. Six individuals stood together, with one as the source of the blast that gave her salvation. He was a tall man with long hair and glowing black skin. Beside him stood a masked woman holding a bow. Crouched in front of them was another woman, one with hair and teeth and claws. Towering behind them was a man of soil and stone, while standing to the side were two normal looking men. The creature reassembled his arm and pointed the scythe to the six heroes.
"Your interference has made her fate your own. Prepare to join in the harvest." Raising its scythe over its head, it charged towards them.
The four odd-looking individuals moved to face the attack head-on, but one of the two normal men stood forward. Holding up one hand to signal them back, he raised another to stop the machine man's charge. Laughing mechanically, the creature brought its scythe down on the man's arm, intending to sever it.
Much to its surprise, the scythe broke upon contact, clattering to the ground. Grasping what was left of the creature's arm, the man sent forth his right hand, sending it deep into the creature's chest. It screamed a long, hideous sound that Clarice will have nightmares of for years to come.
With his hand in the creature's chest, the man smiled. "Interesting programming. I wish to know further." In response to these words, the creature moved along the arm, eventually enveloping the young man. The continued screaming showed that this was against the creature's will.
Finally, the man was completely covered with wires and metal, resembling a makeshift statue. The only words Clarice could use to describe what happened next was that the metal and wires melted off. After several minutes, there were two piles on either side of the man. One was a pile of metal and plastic. The other was a pile of skin, organs, and bones.
Like any other young girl, Clarice fainted.
(To continue Clarice's story, read the New Mutants, from the Age of Onslaught!)
Onslaught Island.
A team of prelates suddenly burst into Onslaught's citadel. The first to emerge from the giant crimson gateway was Angel, an unconscious Polaris in his arms. Next was the Mimic, a mutate with the ability to mimic the powers of any in his immediate vicinity. Using the magnetic powers gained by Polaris and her sister, Zaladane, Mimic pulled the three wounded members of their team through the portal with him.
"We need a medic! Someone get us a medic! And call Masque, we're gonna need his services!" Angel cried to all the onlookers. Many were slaves, humans brainwashed by Jason Wyngarde into living their lives as humble servants to Onslaught's prelates. Some were mutates, like Mimic, the dormant 'X-Factor' in their genes triggered through scientific means. And some were prelates, like the Angel and his fallen comrades.
Of those present, Angel instantly recognised Unus and the Scarlet Witch.
"What happened to you?" Unus asked, shocked at the poor state of Onslaught's supposed elite.
"The X-Men." Angel answered, his mind on nothing but revenge and anger at himself for this failure.
Australia.
Alex Summers stared at David Haller and spat.
"You're too violent, blast it! Our objective was to subdue the prelates, not kill them!" Alex yelled.
"She wouldn't have died. I just put her out of action for a while. So what?" David answered.
"So what?! You could have killed her! I know that you might consider than an acceptable loss, but I don't! We're supposed to be better than them! We're not murderers!" Alex continued, looking around at the other X-Men in the room.
Banshee, Storm, Nightcrawler, Pyro, Warbird, Maggott, Rogue, Colossus, Thunderbird, Scrambler, Sanctity, Locus and Caliban all watched on silently. Sauron and his squad were noticeably absent, as were Bishop and his bodyguard, Exodus.
"I've had enough of this. I'm taking Scott's team and heading to LA," Havok announced. "Pack your bags. We're leaving in the Blackbird ASAP!"
"Fine!" Legion screamed.
"Fine!"
Bishop, just entering the room, stepped between the two, holding his hands up. "Before anybody leaves, tell me what this is all about."
"I've had enough Bishop! Me and my team's had enough! We all signed on because we thought we'd be able to make a difference. Thus far, we haven't done squat!" Havok answered, still enraged at Legion, and now directing it at the man who was his mentor.
"Alex, we all know about your feelings towards my...methods, and I cannot blame you for them. If this were a different place, none of us would have to make the same sacrifices that we've had to make here. But Alex, we are making a difference. You must believe that," Bishop said, trying to calm down the frustrated mutant.
He understood Alex's pain. His brothers were both missing. Scott, who had looked after Alex ever since the death of their father and mother, had been in the hands of Onslaught's forces for nearly two years now. The only assurance they have had of his safety had been from an inside source who many considered to be unreliable at best. And then there was his other sibling. The man known as Adam, recently joined of the X-Men, and now missing as well. It was little wonder that he is frustrated.
"Is this what Scott would have wanted?" called a voice from the assembled group. The speaker walked forward, clutching the hand of her two-and-a-half-year old son. The X-Men regarded Madelyn Summers in silence, waiting for a response from the two team leaders.
"Do you think Scott wants us to be fighting amongst ourselves? Is this what the X-Men stand for? Well, is it?!" Maddie demanded.
"No," Alex muttered.
"No," David agreed.
"Fine then," Madelyn said, self-satisfied.
"Ah agree with Alex though," called another voice from the assembled group. Her name was Rogue, the third team leader of the X-Men. "Ah mean, in that the teams should split up. We could cover a lot more ground that way. Alex's sayin' that we don't do enough, an' Ah have ta agree. Me, 'an Petey were talkin', an' we think it'd be a good idea to split the team up an' have us focus on different areas."
"I agree with Rogue," said Bishop, unexpectedly. "If we section ourselves off into four different areas, we could better focus our attacks on specific targets. Already I have dispatched Sauron and X-Force to Africa. I think it is time the rest of us started devising up our plans as well."
"Are you sure about this, father?" whispered Ororo, the white-haired goddess of weather known as Storm. "We've already lost Shinobi and half of the new recruits with him, is it wise to further split us apart?"
"It is what is necessary, Ororo," Bishop answered.
INTERLUDE 2
A small Shinto shrine, in the Shikoku region of Japan.
"[Yuriko-dono
, you look most lovely in your kimono.]"
Yuriko bowed to the orderly. Normally, she would have accepted the compliment verbally, but tradition said she wait until later in the reception to speak.
She and Keniuchio, her new husband, sat together. Mariko, his sister, now her sister-in-law, stood nearby. As Keniuchio was the bridegroom, Mariko spoke on behalf of the Clan Yashida.
"[It is with great honor that I announce to you the marriage of my brother, Yashida Keniuchio, and Ogawa Yuriko.]"
The newlyweds stood and bowed, and those in attendance bowed in return.
Save for one. Mariko recognized him, Sakamoto Hiroshi. He left for America years ago, to join the ranks of Onslaught. Of course, that monster would want to attack one of the safe havens of this world.
Japan had opened her land up to those displaced by he and his hordes, and this man, presumably one of Onslaught's agents, was running right for Keniuchio Yashida, head of the Clan Yashida, one of the most powerful families in Japan. But, little did Hiroshi know, Keniuchio was also the Silver Samurai.
A kick to the stomach sent Hiroshi to the floor. And his blade into the palm of Mariko's hand. She held her wrist painfully as blood leaked from the wound. To Hiroshi's further dishonor, Keniuchio discovered his blade was coated in blowfish toxin, in an attempt to make and strike a lethal one. He then looked to his sister.
"[Mariko, I'm sorry.]" She watched in horror as he unsheathed his katana. She turned her head and braced for the impact of the blade.
"[Don't worry, Mariko,]" Yukio said, "[we'll find some way to defend ourselves. This will not happen again.]"
(A Japanese respectful suffix, somewhat like calling her Miss Yuriko - Matt)
(Translated from Japanese, thank me later - Matt)
(Japanese names are traditionally written family name then given name. At least, in Japan they are - Matt)
(To read the continued adventures of the Silver Samurai, and the Clan Yashida, be sure to read Team X 2000, from the Age of Onslaught!)
Scott looked at Logan. A hint of jealous rage was in his eyes. Scott felt he was about to do something rash. After all, Scott had slept with Logan's lover multiple times, though never by choice.
"Jean's a beautiful woman," Scott said, trying to break the ice.
"And a devil in the sack," Logan growled.
"Uh, I'll take your word for that," Scott said.
"You've never slept together?"
"She prefers more painful methods of intercourse," Scott muttered. Logan snapped. He grabbed Scott, threw him against the corridor wall, and let his claws fly free of his knuckles.
"Say that again and I gut you, pretty boy!" Logan roared. Scott watched the claws descend slowly. "How 'bout I just carve my initial into yer-whuh?" Wolverine gasped as he felt his hand held steady by telekinesis. He turned to see Hank McCoy and Jean Grey bound down the hallway.
"Play nice lover," said Grey once she reached Logan. She drew close, pushing her ample frame up against him, and grabbed his crotch. Logan smiled. Scott nearly threw up.
"You got it luv," Logan growled. "Yer place or mine?"
"Yours," Jean said. "You're dismissed Logan."
"My pleasure."
Scott did his best to hold back the bile rising up his throat. Wolverine strode down the corridor, grinning ferally.
"We just received orders that Onslaught wishes to see you," Beast said. Scott noticed a small wink from the geneticist. "After you, milady."
Jean strode ahead, ignoring the two "lesser" mutants behind her. Hank smiled at Scott.
"Your inhibitor collar has a psi-buffer," he muttered. "I turn the collar off, the buffer kicks on. It holds a five-minute charge. That's enough to get away from here. I'll turn it off. Hit Jean full force. Got it?" Scott nodded. "NOW!!!"
Jean spun in surprise and was hit full force by an optic blast. Scott was thankful for the strange boost his son's powers had given him, allowing him to control his optic blasts. Jean collapsed, and Scott ran past her. She propped herself up and tried to use her psi-powers to take control of Scott's mind to no avail. Beast's psi-buffer worked perfectly. Scott Summers blasted his way to freedom.
Jean spun on Beast, her eyes flaring with energy. "TRAITOR!!!" she screamed.
"No," Hank said, "X-Man."
Outraged at the mention of Onslaught's most hated enemies, Jean unleashed her full arsenal of psi powers on Beast. Hank had no psi buffer.
INTERLUDE 3
"Lord Campbell!" The voice shouted clear and strong across the courtyard of the stately home. Rory Campbell, Lord of Huntingdon and a renowned geneticist, looked up, his shotgun under his arm.
"Yes, Christopher?" he asked as the man came running up towards him.
Christopher Pike was one of his agents at the so-called Hellfire Club. The Hellfire Club was the playground of the rich, powerful and influential. They sickened Rory in a way few others did, flaunting their immunity from the ravages of the world, thinking that what they had was enough to protect them from Onslaught and the godless mutant hordes that followed him. He was one of a few members of the Human High Council who saw mutants for what they were. The Reverend William Stryker was another, and it was he who had created a special operations unit of the High Council, away from the usual business they engaged in.
"I have what you were after," said Christopher as he stopped just before him, and he passed him a tape. "Proof that the Hellfire Club is made up of mutants and mutant lovers. They have a whole Inner Circle, made up of Kings, Queens, Knights and Bishops under the command of the US directorate."
"Sebastian Shaw," mused Campbell. "His secret is finally revealed. Onslaught?"
"Is not a member. He tolerates their presence in his regime, as they do not conflict with him or his prelates. They have an unprecedented independence in this war."
"If there's one thing I hate, it's wildcards. The Hellfire Club is a wild card of global status. It's time for a more extreme sanction. Good work." Christopher nodded and made his exit as Campbell pulled a radio from his pocket and pressed a call signal key in to the Morse code buttons.
"Stryker."
"Bill, it's Rory. Get Alistaire Stuart. We're mobilising Black Air."
"What's the target?"
"The Hellfire Club. I want them wiped out. All of them."
"As it is written," said Stryker, with a chuckle in his voice, "so shall it be done."
The static hiss of the radio stopped and Campbell looked to the sky, as he readied his shotgun. "PULL!" he shouted and a moment later fired the weapon.
(To read more about the Hellfire Club, and their fate, be sure to read Children of the Atom, from the Age of Onslaught!)
Scott jumped below street level into the sewer. Not even Wolverine's advanced olfactory senses could detect him through all this. He rubbed his eyes in glee. After a year and a half of the inhibitor collar, he was free. He had his powers back. There was only one thing to do.
Scott tore off the psi-buffer and blasted it into rudimentary atoms. He felt another thing he hadn't felt in a year and a half. His wife, Madelyn.
{Maddie! It's me! I'm FREE!}
Australia
Madelyn Summers collapsed with a scream. The X-Men were at her side at once, giving assistance to the young mother.
"Are you all right child?" asked Storm. Madelyn looked up at the X-Men, tears flowing freely down her face. She smiled.
"It's Scott," Maddie cried. "I just felt him for the first time in months. HE'S FREE!"
There was a second's pause at the cry sunk in, and then, the entire room burst into an uproar of cheers. The X-Man was free. Liberation was approaching.
INTERLUDE 4
Somewhere on Genosha Island
The blond-haired man fought against his energy restraints, but was, once again, shocked by a jolt of electricity throughout his body. His chosen name was Adam. Adam Summers, but most tend to know him by the name X-Treme.
Just then, a figure, in red and magenta entered the room. Slowly, he crossed the room to where Adam was. X-Treme once again fought against his restraints, only to be stopped by the familiar jolt of electricity from his inhibitor collar.
“Ahh… how stubborn we are, the more you struggle, the more it’ll hurt,” laughed the alien. He then proceeded to examine his captive, “My, my, what a wonderful specimen, imagine the things that I could do with once of your caliber.”
“You bastar…arggh!!!“ X-Treme began, only to be cut off by another jolt of pain from the collar. Suddenly, an explosion shook the facilities.
“WHAT THE…???” screamed a stunned Lucifer. Slowly, the lights went dark, with the backup red emergency lights replacing them in mere moments. As a result, X-Treme noticed that his restraints were flickering rapidly. Taking a chance, he decided to test his luck, and pulled at his restraints, once again, the collar sent electricity throughout his body. But this time, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Phasing out the pain, he finally managed to pull apart his restraints. Just then, Lucifer recovering from the shock, pulled out a gun, attempting to stop Adam’s breakaway.
Before he could fire, his face was met by X-Treme’s foot, knocking him unconscious. Taking advantage of this, Adam pried away at his collar, until finally, it came apart, free from his neck. He then dashed out the door into a red corridor. As he began to sprint down the corridor, he suddenly felt a streak of heat fly by his face. Curious as to what it was, he turned his head around, only to see a sea of robots chasing him.
‘Uh oh…’ X-Treme thought, as he again, began sprinting, except this time as if his life depended on it. Suddenly, he crashed into another body. The large tangle of flesh and limbs fell to the ground.
“Hey!” shouted the other body, “Why don’t you look where you’re going?!”
“Huh?” replied a stunned X-Treme, as he rubbed his head. Suddenly, he noticed that the other figure was, in fact, a woman in a cloak However, before he could look more closely, she yanked him up.
“C’mon! They’re right behind us!” the woman shouted, while pulling him along. Confused by what was happening, X-Treme’s eyes wandered around, before finally noticing an army of robots appear around a corner.
“Uh oh…” thought X-Treme to himself, as blasts of energy came shooting straight for him. X-Treme managed to dodge out of the way in the nick of time, following his mysterious partner into the labyrinth of corridors in the ship. After running for quite some time, it seemed that they had lost the robots.
“Well, it seems that we’re in the same situation, so we might as well get to know each other,” panted X-Treme, “So, what’s your name?”
“Look, I’m not your friend,” the woman replied coldly, “but if you must know, you can call me Domino”
“Well, nice to meet you Domino, the name’s X-Treme,” X-Treme said with a smile.
Suddenly, they heard the noise of footsteps passing. Agreeing that it was a good time to leave, X-Treme and Domino left the room, and began to explore the facilities for a means of escape.
Then, from nowhere, a beam of energy flew by X-Treme’s face. Turning his head, he saw that the robots had, once again, caught up to him. Suddenly, there was a burst of light in the still-dark complex. Immediately X-Treme thought it was an exit. Putting everything he had, he and the woman ran towards the light. However, once they reached the light, they were forced to stop dead in their tracks. Instead of the exit that they had hoped for, they were met with the sight of big drop.
“Damnit!” exclaimed the woman, as she began to turn around, only to be stopped by the sight of the pursuing robots coming down the corridor, firing at them. Seeing no other way out, the woman pulled a grenade out from her cloak and threw it down the hall. Then, turning around, she grasped X-Treme’s arm and jumped out through the door, just as the grenade detonated.
Down they fell, for what seemed like hours, but finally, with a loud thump, they hit the ground. The two bodies then rolled for a bit, and then settled, with both of them on their backs, unconscious.
(To continue the story of X-Treme and Domino, be sure to read The Warriors, right here at the Age of Onslaught!)
Several hours later, Onslaught Island
Hank McCoy stood before Onslaught himself, the first time he had encountered the being since he was forced to join his cause. Dried blood matted his fur in numerous places from the telekinetic beating Jean had given him. In front of him stood Jean Grey. To his right was Angel, to his left, Polaris. Wolverine stood to the side of the room in his blood-red uniform, a cigar in his mouth. Shadowcat, Logan's small apprentice, crouched next to him, tinkering with her arm-mounted computer. Each and every one of these prelates could kill him in a thousand different ways. One of those ways would most assuredly bring his demise to pass.
{You freed the X-Man, McCoy,} Onslaught boomed. {I should punish you for that. Dane could rip the iron from your blood. Jean could tear you apart atom by atom. Logan could dissect you alive. But none of them shall. I shall take the pleasure myself.}
"You wouldn't dare," Beast growled in defiance.
Onslaught sat back in his throne. {And why is that McCoy?}
"The moment my heart stops beating, Hank has my orders to terminate the Phoenix Project. You don't wish to lose your greatest weapon, do you?"
{Excellent point,} Onslaught said. {But we have ways of making life much worse than death, don't we Pryde?}
Shadowcat looked up and grinned, pushing back the sole lock of chin-length hair that survived her crew cut. "Oh most definitely my lord." She turned back to her computer and snickered. "Most definitely."
{Logan,} Onslaught boomed, {take Dr. McCoy to the main torture cell. And find Dr. Pym as well. They should enjoy this.} Logan stepped away from the wall, taking a long drag of his cigar.
"Take one more step..." Hank threatened.
"And what bub?" Logan laughed. "You're outnumbered."
Beast stuck out his tongue to reveal a small white pill. "Cyanide capsule disguised as a tooth. One step and I swallow. One movement and I swallow. One breath..." Hank swallowed the poison and smiled. "...and I swallow. Sayonara."
Hank's stance wavered. "I'm coming Trish!" he gasped. "I'm coming..." Beast collapsed on the floor.
"He's gone," Logan muttered through drags.
Outrage flared in Onslaught's eyes. {FOOLS!!! GET TO MCCOY'S LABORATORY AND STOP PYM FROM TERMINATING PHOENIX!!!!!}
Each prelate in the room broke into a sprint to obey Onslaught's order.
"Hello Hank!" Rachel said cheerfully. "How are you?"
"Fine," Pym said distractedly.
"What's in the syringe Hank?" Rachel said, a hint of fear in her voice. "And why do the words 'Hank's dead' keep going through your mind? What happened to Beast? What happened to Daddy?"
"This counter virus will halt the ageing process," Hank explained. "Beast asked me to give it to you if he... died. You father is free now."
"Daddy's free?" Rachel asked.
Hank nodded. "And so will you be after I administer the counter virus."
"Thank you Hank," Rachel said, sticking her arm out.
"I'm sorry," Hank said, strapping a device to her arm before injecting the techno-organic virus. Rachel's body was racked in pain as Hank tearfully initiated the body-slide that teleported Rachel to the West Coast. There was a sudden roar and a sound like silk ripping. Hank turned to see Wolverine and Shadowcat coming through the outer blast door of the lab.
"You're not going to get me without a fight!" Hank screamed as he rushed Logan, growing in size, thanks to his concealed weapon, the Pym Particles. Hank knew that the shock of seeing him grow would only last an instant. In that time, Henry Pym prepared for and welcomed the kiss of Wolverine's claws.
Rachel fought through the haze of pain that racked her body. A techno-organic virus. She knew now why Beast had conditioned her to fight it. Her telekinesis shunted as much as possible out of her body, wounding her severely. She opened her eyes and regarded herself. Pushing the virus out of her body had torn her clothing to nothing but scraps. She felt blood oozing from her forehead and cheek around her right eye. She looked at her left arm and realised in horror that it had been completely converted to techno-organics.
Rachel stood and looked around herself, vaguely recognising Los Angeles. She had a vague premonition to find the ones called the X-Men. She used what little bit of her telekinesis that wasn't now devoted to combating the TO virus to stopping blood flow from her wounds and starting the healing process.
"When you killed Beast, Onslaught, you created Cable!" Rachel cried into the Californian night.
"Hey!"
Cold air blasted Everett Thomas' face as his tattered rag of a blanket was yanked off of him. The African-American teenager angrily pulled himself up to a half-sitting position. Standing above him was a Chinese-American girl with a scowl on her face and Everett's blanket in her hand. "What the hell is your problem? I'm trying to sleep here."
"I'll tell you what my problem is," the girl spat, "This here alley's my territory, and I don't allow no trespassers."
"I'm just passing through." He protested. But even as he spoke he started eyeing the girl's leather bomber jacket and calculating his odds. That jacket could get him at least a month's supply of food on the black market, and the girl probably had a stash of loot somewhere in those trash cans. The Asian girl brought one hand up to her face and an incandescent blue-green spark flew out of her index finger.
"You don't wanna pass through here, trust me. You have 'xactly five seconds to get your brown butt outta my alley, or you'll be celebratin' the Fourth of July early."
Everett smirked. So the girl was a mutant. She was obviously not a prelate, so she couldn't be that much of a threat. "I always did like holidays."
PAFF! PAFF!
The dumpster Everett had been sleeping in front of evaporated in a explosive display of pyrokinetics. Luckily Everett had anticipated the girl's attack and dove out of harm's way, seconds before her outburst. A sideways roll brought him up directly behind her. Realizing her mistake, the girl tried to duck and turn at the same time. But it was too late. For Everett was a mutant as well, and he had synched up with her.
PAFF!
Everett blasted the girl in the chest with her own pyrokinetic globules, slamming her into the brick wall five feet away. She slumped to the ground, looking down at her smoking jacket in bewilderment.
"How--" The girl's eyes flickered back to Everett, and he saw a hint of fear in them. Then it was gone, replaced by familiar defiance. "You...you'll pay for this."
Everett threw his head back and laughed. "I don't think so. You see, this here alley's my territory now, and I don't allow no trespassers." He raised his hand for the killing blast.
The girl snarled back in defiance, "If I have to die, I'm takin' you with me!" she growled before releasing a tremendous pulse of blinding white energy.
The explosive bubble rolled out from her chest with devastating effect, incinerating herself and the entire city block. Everett screamed in agony, using every iota of his concentration to stay connected to the young girl's powers; desperately trying to keep the deadly bubble at bay with his own counter-offence of pyrokinetics. Then the wave was gone, and Everett was kneeling on the ground, panting. All that remained of the mutant girl was some charred bones.
"Everett Thomas?"
"Huh?" As if in a dream, Everett slowly turned around.
Before him was the most unbelievable sight he had ever seen. A crimson portal had seemingly opened up out of nowhere, and standing in the middle of it was a brown-skinned man flanked by a strikingly beautiful woman. A woman, oddly, with wings attached under her arms and quills flaring all around her head. Hovering overhead was the man obviously responsible for this awesome gateway, an aboriginal mutant wearing nothing save a white cloth.
Everett failed to notice the other being who had accompanied these three on their journey, for if he had, he would have surely noticed that the man's skin-color matched that of the portal, his jet-black hair strangely off-set by the glowing white that emanated from the portal's outer rim.
"I am Bishop, gatherer and leader of the X-Men; a band of mutants opposed to Onslaught's vile ways. Deathbird--" here the woman stepped forward ever so slightly, her almost regal-presence being felt by all "--and I have been watching you for some time now. We feel that you would make an invaluable addition to our newest team. Our next generation of X-Men."
"Wha-What's in it for me?" Everett asked, still shaken by the events of before.
Deathbird cut in, "Warm meals, a dry bed, and a roof over your head. Oh, and you get to beat up people all you want."
Everett was silent for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Sounds good to me."
"Excellent." Bishop looked at the sad pile of bones next to Everett. He was strangely silent, as though he'd just witnessed the death of an old friend.
"If she couldn't take a novice mutant, Bishop, she wouldn't have stood a chance against Onslaught's prelates. This way, at least, we save ourselves the trouble of training her." Deathbird whispered into his ear, before turning her attention, once again, to Everett. "Enough chit-chat. I'm sure you're dying to see your new home. Gateway, if you would do us the honors?"
Everett started forward, but an instant later stopped dead in his tracks as he slowly brought his right hand up to his face in disbelief. A tiny shower of sparks was bubbling from his index finger. "How...?"
Deathbird smiled dangerously. "Maybe we didn't lose Jubilation Lee after all."
En route to Los Angeles
Madelyn was deep in meditation behind Alex. Havok regarded his sister-in-law as Banshee piloted the Blackbird through the thick night. She was locating his brother- her husband- on the Astral Plane, to guide him to the X-Men.
On the Astral Plane, Madelyn was in a passionate embrace with her husband. "I've missed you Scott," Maddie said in the middle of a kiss.
"And I you," Scott smiled. "What say when we get back together we let Alex take care of Nathan while we spend the entire night together?" Madelyn smiled through the bliss, through her husband's sweet kisses, and said an affirmative:
"Until death do we part, Mr. Summers."
"No," Scott said, "for eternity."
Madelyn shook herself out the Astral Plane once she and Scott determined a meeting place.
"How was he?" Alex asked.
"Better than ever," Maddie replied with a smile.
Alex grinned at her meaning. "Freedom does that to a man."
Onslaught Island.
"Wake up," said a sadistic voice. Hank Pym awoke slowly. He was still alive. He had felt Logan's claws tear into him though...
{Yes, you did,} said a booming voice. Hank tried to turn to see the source, but found himself strapped down. {But Grey stopped Logan before he could finish you.}
"Onslaught," Hank muttered through his pain. His body had shrunk back to its normal size, and he could now feel the three slash wounds in his gut, rather painfully.
{Yes,} Onslaught replied. {Tell me something Doctor Pym. Why didn't you tell me about your so-called 'Goliath Project' first? You would have been rewarded handsomely, regardless of your genetic disabilities.}
Hank turned his head enough to see Shadowcat at his computer terminal, Wolverine hanging over her shoulder. He then saw the prelate Toad nearby and identified him as the source of the voice he heard as he was waking.
"The Human Resistance Movement asked me to do this for them," Hank spat. "There's Pym Particles all throughout the HRM."
{Hmmm,} Onslaught replied. {Have you wondered what happens when your so-called 'Pym Particles' only work on, say, the bones and muscles, and not the skin?}
"N-no," Hank replied, fearful of what would happen.
{The it looks like you'll be the first to find out,} Onslaught said as Shadowcat flipped a toggle on her mini-puter. Hank's scream echoed across the island.
Scott glanced up at the inhuman howling. He pitied that pour soul. He also knew that if he were caught, he'd be next. He was surprised that none of the prelates had been sent after him. He only hoped that there would be no hunt.
Onslaught turned away from the grotesque creature on the table. Pym was alive but barely. He looked to Wolverine and Shadowcat.
{Find Summers,} he boomed. {Bring him here. Now.}
INTERLUDE 5
The shores, not too far from Australia.
"And where to now, oh gracious leader?" asked Reaper, a smirk coming across his face. Reaper had always annoyed Shinobi. True, there was no questioning his skills or loyalties, but it seems as though he's always trying to goad Shinobi into a confrontation.
"You act as though I forced you to come, Reaper." replied Shinobi, keeping his eyes focuses on the seas ahead. Reaper then glanced out to the sea as well, perhaps hoping to spot whatever it was that Shinobi was so fixated on. Shinobi looked out at the sea with patience, clearing in thoughts as he so often does, in an almost meditative state. And Reaper, now looking at Shinobi, is disgust by how spiritual he is, despite the state of this godless world.
"So, where's mommy, and your guard dog?" asked Reaper, still trying to get under Shinobi's skin.
"If you want to annoy someone...." Shinobi answers, as he finally looks to Reaper, his thoughts broken "Annoy someone else."
Reaper rolls his eyes, and turns away, mumbling to himself, "I bet I can go to Rusty and Meltdown, do some cock-blocking."
He walks back far enough, so as to let the darkness of night cover him from Shinobi's site. He then heads back inside, and sees Tessa looking at him in disappointment. Wildchild is also there, laying down on the couch beside Tessa, his head on her lap, as though he was a child. Reaper shrugs his shoulders with a smile, and walks away.
"I don't like that boy. Too arrogant, and self-assured." she whispers to herself.
Shinobi is still outside, looking at the sea, when another person appears from the dark. "So, where are we going?" asks the silhouette. Shinobi turns to find Shatterstar by his side.
"San Francisco. Onslaught's captured all but San Francisco. They barricaded the area, and the only way to arrive there is either by air or sea. We're to go there, and protect what's left."
Shatterstar rubs his chin in thought.
"I hate the sea." Guido mutters as his face slowly turns green.
Warpath, meditating to Guido's right, remains silent. Guido and James are like brothers. Two men, both taken from their families by Onslaught's prelates. Two men rescued from the slave pits by Bishop, and known to the world "The Bash Brothers".
Sitting in the corner of the small cabin are Meltdown and Rusty, cuddled up together under a blanket. Guido takes a look around him, now enraged.
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE. I'M DYING HERE. INDIAN BOY THERE IS DANCING WITH WOLF'S AND YOU TWO..... ARE DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT......", but before he can finish, Guido starts to wobble back and forth, his face now an even paler shade of green, before rushing out to the closest edge and vomit over the side.
While back on deck...
"You wanted to see me, Shinobi?" ask Milan, now standing behind Shatterstar.
"Yes, Milan. I want you to keep aware of The Hounds. Tessa has kept her mind open to thoughts, but I wouldn't want to risk it, so you do the same." said Shinobi, a concerned look about him.
"I have been, they are no where near." answered Milan. "Thank You Milan."
Guido, who had just finished vomiting, turns and looks at Rictor, who was almost in a fit of tears, desperately trying to hold himself back from laughing.
"Go ahead bozo, laugh it up." Guido begins, never really losing his sense of humor.
"Sorry amigo, you okay?". Rictor apologizes, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Ya, ya, at least you it was just you who saw. Everyone else is either meditating, getting their mack on, or whatever." Guido then smiles, as he realizes only one saw, and not the world. "Hey, at least no bebe's saw." Guido chuckles, as he begins to walk away.
"I beg to differ." Rictor counters, laughing even more hysterically, as he points up to the skies above. Guido slowly looks up and sees Syrin flying overhead, a smirk on her face. His mouth then drops, and as if things couldn't get any worse, he begins to spew another load of vomit.
INTERLUDE 6
Somewhere along the sea.
"The Prisoners are lose" screams Stonewall, right before he gets a swift drop kick to the face.
The four prisoners then continue on their way to freedom. The man known as Longshot leads the pack of four. As for the other three, all are former associates of the late Mojo. Mojo's number one agent, Spiral, runs alongside Longshot, not separating herself too far from the safety of numbers. The other two member of their little quartet are two loyal guards of the gate to Mojo's fallen empire; Magog, and Gog.
Beef, Riptide, and Chrome all now chase after the four breakaways, beginning to catch up with them from behind them. Chrome, the faster of those three, is already infront of the escapees, as he attempts to turn Spiral to steal.
Longshot counters with a shot into Chrome, as he falls back and lands into Riptide. As for the two alien guards, they double team Beef. Beef smiles as though it was some kinda joke, and holds both men up by the neck with both arms. Spiral, now behind Beef, gives him a kick to the groin, and the three villains are now down.
The fugitives continue to make their getaway, turn until they're ambushed by Tusk, Spoor, Scalphunter, and Gauntlet. Scalphunter and Gauntlet unload a round on the alien's knees, disabling Gog and Magog.
"We can't help them" Spiral screams as she tugs on Longshot's arm. They continue running, until they are stopped in their tracks by Harry Leland, the captain of the ship, the ruler of the sea, and the Tyrant of 'The Hounds.' Suddenly, Spiral and Longshot can no longer run, they fall to the ground, feeling as though they weighed a ton of bricks.
"Look up" Leland mutters, "I don't want you to miss this for the world."
As Longshot and Spiral looks up, to their shock they see Magog and Gog as well slammed to the ground. "If you are to ever attempt to escape my ship again, you will suffer, for example..."
Magog and Gog are slammed down onto the deck of the ship yet again, this time breaking though the ground, and plummeting down to bottom of the sea. "Do I have myself clear?" screams Leland.
"Ye- Yes." Longshot cries. Selene and Harry begin to walk off. The two Prelates of Onslaught begin to discuss what's next on the agenda.
"I'm tired of destroying these pitiful islands. I alone could have taken Mojo's entire island." complains the arrogant Leland.
"All in due time. If you think about it my dear, there's more sea in this world than there is land, and we rule it all, under Onslaught." replies Selene, trying to soothe the infamous prelate general.
"So what's next, my lady?" the English man asks of his second-in-command.
"I've gotten a hold on my psilink that there's a crew of Bishop's rebel's at sea. Though we won't get to them in time, they are heading to the bay area of San Francisco."
"Who are they?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Who are they?"
"The son of your dear friend, Sebastian."
"Shinobi Shaw?"
"Yes, as well as Sebastian's former aide, Tessa."
"Very well, set sail, and put some restraints on those two prisoners. We need them for proof. Take them to Onslaught as a token of our appreciation. If they are to escape, then instead of taking them as a whole to Onslaught, we'll just take their heads. But for now, we set sail to San Francisco. I have some business to attend to..."
(To read more about Shinobi Shaw, and his band of mutant rebels, head on over to the pages of X-Posse, for the full story!)
Two hours later.
The first hint Scott had that he was being followed was the scurry of the rats. The sounds were quicker, more panicked. Only one prelate had that effect on living creatures. Wolverine.
"Hello Logan," Scott called without turning around.
"Guess you've been payin' attention, X-Man," Logan called back. "Too bad you won't live too long to put it to use."
"I'm betting that you have orders to bring me in alive," Scott replied, starting to turn.
"Well, Onslaught won't mind if I killed you in self-defense, will he Kitty?"
"I wouldn't think so," Shadowcat replied. Scott could now see Wolverine, but not Shadowcat. Scott knew she could be anywhere.
"So you're proposing a fight?"
"No, I'm just going to kill you and Kitty will say it was self-defense, won't you luv?"
"Oh yeah."
"That's not very sportsman-like," Scott said, smiling. He could hear a distant sound, like a whistling bullroarer. "Let's even the odds a bit, shall we?"
Gateway's bullroarer took form and the Calvary arrived. Bishop and Exodus stood behind the aboriginal teleporter.
"Hello Scott," Bishop said. "You need a ride?"
"Yeah Bish," Scott replied. "Just let me finish this." An aura of energy surrounded Scott's head and a burst of energy sprung from his eyes. Wolverine jumped aside, and rushed Scott, claws outstretched.
Scott blasted Wolverine's chest, splashing energy across the punitive prelate. A large bloody "x" was tattooed in Logan's flesh.
Wolverine wiped blood from his face and saluted Scott. "Well fought, X-Man. Next time I won't be so giving."
"Nor will I," Scott replied. He joined Bishop and Exodus behind Gateway. "And there will be a next time."
"And that will be your death-date."
"Or yours."
Then the X-Men were whisked away.
Los Angeles
Madelyn waited anxiously for Gateway's return. When she'd last felt Scott, he was in distress. Then, his psi signature disappeared. Madelyn was aware that Gateway's teleportation did that, but she was also aware that death did as well. She hoped for the former. She started as a hand came to rest on her shoulder.
"Don't worry so much," came the voice of her brother-in-law. Madelyn turned to Havok and smiled.
"Thanks Alex," she said.
Havok grinned, and replied with "No prob." A whistling filled the air and Madelyn spun away from Alex. She wished that Nathan hadn't fallen asleep en route to LA. He would love to see his daddy again. Gateway and his companions began to take form. Madelyn's heart jumped into her throat.
"SCOTT!!!" Madelyn ran into her husband's outstretched arms. They embraced for several seconds, and then Scott took her chin and turned it towards himself.
"Hey, you know what?" Scott said, grinning.
"What?" Madelyn replied.
"I love you," Scott whispered.
"I know."
Scott leaned down and kissed his wife a long deep kiss. After they pulled away, Scott smiled, and kissed her again.
