As dusk rises atop the large tower on Mount Wundagore, Bova prepares for the stormy night ahead by wandering the large and empty corridors with a single candle, trying in vain to close all the flapping shutters from the large glass windows on the way to her room.

The large cow-woman wonders why this tower is secured by such little protection, and then realises that since the "incident" in which the previous master of the great castle died, the New Men that live inside this ancient and crumbling building have professed to live in the greatest peace and humbleness.

Anyway, who would want to invade this old place? There is not much of it to offer anymore.

She reaches the door of her bedroom, and as she reaches for the doorknob, the flame of the candle held in her hand streams in the wind for almost a second.

"How?....", Bova questions herself. She has certainly closed all the windows and the floor she is on is thousands of feet from the ground, so the case of intruders would not be so.

However, everything is possible, and she has encountered great things, but something in her mind wishes to reject the prospect of an enemy somewhere in the grounds.

Let them take what they want to take and let her sleep in peace!

She looks towards the corridor, and satisfied that there is nobody in it but herself, she turns around and proceeds to enter her chambers.

The shadow behind her retreats from it's hiding place and grabs a startled Bova by the throat, with one soft hand holding Bova's mouth. Bova's scream dies inside her mouth, and the heavy iron candlestick drops to the floor, casting images of both the invader and Bova on the opposite wall.

"Don't scream", the invader utters, in a very feminine yet rough voice.

She retreats her hand from Bova's mouth and takes out a very large, Japanese looking sword from seemingly nowhere, and puts it at Bova's throat.

"Scream, and you'll never moo again!"

Bova kicks the door of her bedroom open, and waves her arms frantically in desperation, yet never dares to even run away.

"Bad move", the woman suddenly hits Bova's head with something hard and thick and solid, and Bova feels a trickle of warm blood pour down the side of her face, until she suddenly forgets everything, and there is only black.

Bova is dragged into the darkness, and the woman carrying her forgets to inspect Bova's bedroom, where a small figure stares into the darkness, and jumps out of the window.

In a city that's name has long been forgotten, lives a man who wishes he had long been forgotten too.

Even so, he feels forgotten by God. He always has been. It wasn't until the troops came calling at the door that he forgot about God, the way it seemed God had forgotten about him.

An apartment in shambles, part of a high-rise flat whose top floors have now been levelled. Even so, Victor Creed lived, and still does live, on the eighth floor.

The apartment is poorly decorated, with only a rotten mattress on a corner of the room, a small table with an ancient telephone, upturned cardboard boxes, and a mirror.

As far as Victor is concerned, there is only this room in the house. He dare not look in any other, in case he might find something that scares him. Most probably himself, or who he is, or rather, who he was.

What he is, that's a different matter. He is neither man nor beast, he is both, and he has finally learned to accept it and grow with it, as much as a person like Victor Creed can grow spiritually.

The mirror shows who and what he is.

The mirror.

It shows everything as clear as day, without pity or remorse, and Victor Creed is regretting ever having looked into it.

He doesn't even know why it was there, he had never looked into it before, and he had no strange satisfaction with decorating the old apartment. It was simply there, and had always been, and on this particularly cold morning when he could not sleep, he decided to look into it.

The idea was to look closely at his battle scars, the freshest of which had ravaged down the side of his face, amazingly leaving the eye intact. He suddenly caught himself looking closer than the scars, looking at himself. His build was large, especially for a man of his age, and his blonde hair reached down to his waist, but he caught it up in a ponytail, and it flew around his back. There was a slight sliver of grey up at the very top, and he moaned when he saw it.

"Yer getting old, Creed.", he mumbled to himself.

His eyes were green, large and tired. He noticed the slight wrinkles around his eyes, and cursed himself silently for glaring at people so violently back in the days.

Victor's hand shot up to his face, and he pressed lightly on the large scar. It hadn't healed. Yet. He winced, and knew it would heal in time, for he had the Canadian Government to thank for that.

His hands, or rather, his claws, and of course, his large fangs, he had nature to thank for. Or rather, swear at. It's where he got his name, and he would never be called by any other. Not now, not anymore.

He heard his father's words echo in his mind along with a distant and painful memory.

"WHY?! You're nothing but a beast, Victor!! An ol' and mean Sabretooth!!"

*SMACK*

*CRASH*

In tune with the memory of his father's belting, the mirror went flying across the room and crashed into millions of splinters on the other wall.

Victor walked towards the table, and picked out a few glass splinters from his hand, watching patiently as the bloody hand cured itself.

Victor Creed watched it in anger, and a tear or frustration and sadness fell on his old and downtrodden cheek. He wiped it away angrily, and soon after, the rusty telephone rang.

"WHAT?!"

"Vic, it's Pietro."

"Duh! You're the only one that calls this bloody phone."

"Cool it man. We've got a job."

"It's way too early."

"You weren't asleep...?"

"Fine. Where is it, and how much?"

"I'll explain on the way, just meet me at the usual place, and mind the troops."

Victor slammed the phone down and smiled, showing off his fangs, and jumped down.

You see, he didn't have to walk towards the door, because where once had been a wall with a balcony, there was now a gaping hole that served as door. It didn't matter to Creed there were eight stories to get down until he reached the floor. Cats always landed on their feet, and that included big ones.

Anyway, he'd rather not use the door. The large oak door had, on the other side, a painful memory at which to look at. Upon it, a brass plaque read "Victor and Raven Creed".

He'd rather forget, so he jumped.

The Main Hall of the tower that sits pleasantly on Mount Wundagore once belonged to a God. At least, to the men and women, half human and half creature, he was their Creator and King.

This place where he resided, with its shining marble pillars, grand red carpets, and large golden throne. The High Evolutionary sought council here every week, and sent his New Men knights on missions around the world to help those deemed worthy of their aid.

Then, one day, a terrible thing happened around the world. With the arrival of Onslaught, the High Evolutionary felt less of a God, and realised all that he was; human. Simple. Vulgar. Human.

He ran away never to return, and though the Main Hall has never been forgotten, it has most definitely been neglected, even though the New Men's missions never fade.

Bova came back to life only a few minutes ago, and she kneels in silence with her head hanging down sadly, and her eyes covered.

Around her neck is a thick iron collar, cold and hard, and she can hear the clanking of chains, knowing well that she is tied down somewhere.

The blindfold is removed, and she looks to her right in surprise, to see a young woman of Greek descent, dressed in red ninja clothes, and carrying a large sword as well as the chain attached to Bova's neck.

"Look forward, ignorant farm animal!", the woman scowls at Bova, and Bova looks forward, seeing that this is not the same woman who abducted her, but the hate in her voice is the same.

Bova looks to her left and sees a woman of the same build, but with dark skin and dark curly hair down to her shoulders. She is dressed in leopard skin and hunter's clothes, and sports a large dagger with an ivory handle hanging from her waist.

"There is no-one here", she mutters, and steps to the left of Bova. Bova looks up at her in fright, and she exclaims, "Remember me?". The woman sneers, and Bova realises this is the woman that abducted her.

"BOVA!", a voice calls out to her, and she looks forward to see someone sitting on God's throne.

The top half of her body is cast in darkness, but she can make out large boots laced up to the woman's knees. Dark scarlet boots with violent heels.

"The New Men have gone on a mission to fight Onslaught's troops, if that is what you are looking for. I am the only one here."

The voice sighed, "Oh. How disappointing. I expected, at least some form of resistance."

"Why should there be?", Bova remarked. "There is nothing of value here."

The voice laughed. "There is you, Bova. All I need!"

Bova looked up at her in surprise. "Me? What have I done?"

The woman laughed again. "Exactly what I mean to ask you Bova. What have you done?!"

The woman lunged forward and brought her face to the light. "You do remember Calypso from your previous encounter, but, do you remember me?"

Bova peered into a pretty face, scarred by anger, and with bouncing curls falling on either side of it. She brought her hoof to her face, and wiped blood off her cheek, before suddenly realising who was before her. "NO!"

The woman smiled, and regained her place in the darkness. "yes."

"NO! WANDA?!"

"Well, not Wanda anymore. I go by the name of Scarlet Witch now. Yes, witch. Apparently, you were the first to find out about my powers, and apparently, you know me quite well."

"Wanda.....how?"

"SILENCE! You have only one question to answer, and it involves my father."

A plane flies from America to Wundagore, and in it, two brave men discuss their future. Or rather, they don't. Quicksilver and Sabretooth fly in total silence, as Sabretooth sips on coffee and Quicksilver pilots the old plane. They both discuss the future, but only in their heads.

The plane has been abused, by standards, but it can still manage the odd flight, at just a little less than the speed of sound.

Stolen - or salvaged, as Quicksilver likes to put it - after an attack on the now-defunct Hellfire Club's safe-house outside of Onslaught Island. But that is a story for another day...

Quicksilver and Sabretooth are bounty hunters. For who? The Human Resistance Movement still have a lot of money in underground circles. Other important people and organisations with their own agendas sometimes have need of their 'special' services. Whatever the job, they can always be guaranteed of one thing; Quicksilver and Sabretooth will get the job done right.

"So, who are we after?", Sabretooth asks as he finishes his coffee.

"A woman known by the name of 'the Scarlet Witch'. She's one of Onslaught's prelates and she's already invaded half of Europe."

"Where is she?"

"Mount Wundagore. The HRM thinks she might find some important weapons there. The New Men are apparently fighting off hordes of prelates all around Transia."

"Mount Wundagore? Isn't that where that crazy guy used to live?"

"The High Evolutionary. Yes. Not anymore."

"How much are we getting paid anyways?"

"A lot. They want her brought down badly Victor."

"Don't call me Victor, Lensherr."

"Don't call me Lensherr, Sabretooth."

"Fine, Quicksilver or Pietro, or whatever. Don't get so uptight about daddy."

Pietro looked at him in arrogance and snorted, "And you would be one to talk? Weren't you a good old family man at the time?"

Victor snarled at Quicksilver. "Don't you ever mention the 'f' word again!! YOU CLEAR?! There's nothing to talk about any MORE!"

"Fine. We're nearly here. There's about half an hour left. Remember, it's late at night. Almost midnight."

"Whoopee. So we get to pitch tent?"

"No. There's a village at the bottom of the Mount that is still intact. I have a friend there, his name's Valerie Cooper."

"I thought that Cooper was in Genosha?" Sabretooth argues.

"Yeah, so did I. Looks like we heard wrong."

Silence remains for the rest of the journey. It's a wonder they get the job done without killing each other.

(Otherwise known as New York city - Benn)

(See The Warriors for more on the current state of Genosha - Benn)

The village of Wundagore sits inside a small crater at the bottom of Mount Wundagore, invisible to most people, and thankfully to the troops of Onslaught. You can only find this place, if you know about it.

A small figure crawls, rolls, flies and jumps in fits and starts down the Mount. She finally reaches the quiet village with little cottages and people outside collecting wood, and she covers her large butterfly wings with her cloak, and turns suddenly into a little girl running back home. The hood protects her antennae from visibility too.

She runs to the place where she knows who to find, and knocks lightly on the door. A tall, blonde woman double the girl's size peers down at her and squeals in surprise.

"Faerie!", the woman exclaims. "What are you doing here?"

"Is Ms. America here?", the little girl keeps looking back and jumping up and down.

"It's me Faerie.", the woman beckons the girl with her hand.

"Come in."

The girl twiddles her thumbs and walks into the warm cottage, "Oh, yes. I forgot that you change!"

The woman laughs to herself knowing that the girl calls her Ms., and adds the America because she knows that's where the woman comes from. Little does the girl know that Ms. America means a different thing. Not that the woman is concerned.

"I come her to tell you that bad people have entered the castle, and taken Mistress Bova!"

The woman hit a fist onto the oak table and sat by the fire, as Faerie took off her cloak and spread her wings, flying quietly towards the fire.

"Don't get to close, Faerie!", the woman warned. "Damn. I thought they would come later."

Faerie fretted. "Get help, Ms. America!"

"I already have. It is yet to arrive."

"Is it Mr. America?"

The woman looked at the fire dreamily. "I hope so."

The woman suddenly shifted, and went from the tall and blonde Valerie Cooper, to a woman with blue skin and orange hair.

Little did Raven Darkholme-Creed know what she was about to get herself into....

Back at the top of Mount Wundagore.

As Bova was being taken into the jail, Elektra stopped and turned. "I think I heard something."

"There is no-one here!", Calypso muttered.

"I'll check anyway. You take the cow..."

Elektra slid into the darkness of one of the smaller chambers, and retrieved a small metallic object from her hair. She punched in a few numbers.

"Raven, can you hear me?", a static voice crackled over the intercom. "I'm here. Wanda is here too. When will the help arrive? It better be soon! I can only take so much".

With that, Elektra went back to the jail to meet Calypso once more.

"What was it?" asks Calypso.

"The wind. Someone left a window open."

"Told you. What did you think it was? Someone from the village?"

"I told you Calypso, there is no village!"

"It said on the map."

"That map is old. There is no village. I checked."

In Quicksilver and Sabretooth #02: Everything begins to fall into place, as Quicksilver and Sabretooth arrive in the hidden village of Wundagore. What does the Scarlet Witch have planned for the New Men, and what does Sabretooth's wife intend to do about it?! Find out in thirty!

RUNNING COMMENTARY

PLEASE! Write to me with your questions and comments, and letters, and criticisms, and I'll publish them here, ok?

Oh, and sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it... :)

JONO.