Chapter Text
Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.
The sound of chainsaws cut through the tall trees, muffled voices are drown under the constant whine of machines, tractors and hammers working. It's too hot on this damn island, the sun hanging over their heads like a threat, making everything hotter and more tiring.
Sabretooth wipes the sweat from his face once more, pushing the blond hair that stuck to his neck with a curse. The Hellfire Club employees continued to rush around him, hurrying to finish setting up camp and get to work as quickly as possible. He did nothing, of course. That wasn't his job.
The Black King, that annoying, pompous brat, hired him to help him organize the plans for his new strategy against Wolverine's school, not to do heavy labor in the middle of a rainforest in scorching weather, so he just leans against the pole that holds the only finished tent, watching from the shade as the faceless workers work.
His claws play with the fangs hanging from his neck, absently scratching the already damaged surface of the beads. He had to remake the necklace after the Runt broke it. A low growl escapes his throat, unconsciously, as he thinks back to his last encounter with the Runt. It's a waste of time. He already won the fight, the Runt ran away with his tail between his legs, back to his damn school, and he got everything in the end.
He's the leader of the Hand now, he has everything he wants, and he's the Invisible King. Still, he's felt nothing but anger since he faced the runt in the cave. Silently, he burns with hatred for the words Wolverine said at that moment.
The phone in his pocket rings, breaking through the fog in his mind. He growls again when he sees who is calling him. Invisible King or not, he still has a deal with the Hellfire Club.
“Creed.” He says into the phone, still touching the fangs with the tips of his claws.
On the other end of the line, the familiar, feminine, and annoying voice says: “The king wants to know how things are going.” Straight to the point, that’s how he likes it. He just doesn’t appreciate the way this girl talks to him.
“And why doesn’t your majesty come see for himself?” He snaps, his voice sounding thicker and slurred. “The island is his, after all.”
The saws continue to cut through wood, buzzing incessantly in his ears. More trees topple and fall around, making more space for Kilgore’s little new empire.
“He says he has other things to deal with. He and the Baron want to know if you’ve found the magic stone yet.”
Victor turns to the small metal box under the pile behind him, Kilgore’s symbol beautifully emblazoned on the lid. There’s a buzzing sound coming from inside, hurting his ears, while simultaneously exciting him.
“Yes, it’s safe here.” He looks away to ignore the call. “All decorated and ready to be delivered. It wasn’t the only thing we found. Maybe the Baron would be interested in a pet?”
“A... pet?”
He grins, this time looking toward the truck farther away. Two guards stand in front of it. He can still hear the creature screaming and struggling inside even after two days of being tied up. The thing did a lot of damage. But the most it managed to do was tear off part of his head. Victor, of course, gladly returns the favor.
“It was guarding the stone. It attacked the research team when they took it out of the cave. It’s well guarded, it just doesn’t want to cooperate much.” The screams and banging increase. Victor sees one of the soldiers kick the cage, making the creature even more angry.
A sigh comes from the other end of the line. A few voices in the back shout something at the girl before she speaks again.
“Kilgore said to prepare the stone to be sent back to headquarters. And whatever you found there.” She must be rolling her eyes on the other end. “He has another mission for you, Invisible King.”
Victor snorts, his fangs protruding from his lips. He likes the title, it doesn’t suit him that much. He’s never been the type to hide and work in the shadows. He likes the attention, to cause maximum damage and leave his mark. His Tereza used to scold him for it, she was always the quiet one. What a contrast, huh?
“Get your team together and come back with the cargo.” The girl says. “Don’t worry. Maybe this mission will give you a chance to get revenge on Wolverine, if you’re lucky.” She gives him a sharp smile that Victor can’t see.
Sabretooth hangs up and tosses the phone into his pocket. His hands go back to his necklace and he growls to himself. He’s looking forward to a rematch.
**************
If Evan thought he had run out of surreal things to happen to them, he was in for a big surprise. Years later, he would look back on that day as the moment his entire life began to fall apart. Slowly tipping over the edge, sometimes so slowly that he didn’t notice. And sometimes, so suddenly that it left him disoriented.
He had believed that things between his friends had improved after Kubark apologized, and they spent time together over the weekend. However, something happened between the prince and Julian that created such tension and animosity between them that it seemed like it would suffocate them.
The following Tuesday, Kubark didn’t sit with them for Mutant History class, and every time Evan, Idie, or Broo said hello to him, he responded with aggression and harsh words. Which led to Julian returning the energy and the two of them fighting.
"What happened between you and Kubark?" Idie asked Creed when Logan separated him and Kubark and told them to sit on opposite sides of the room. "You two look like you're going to start another big fight like rabid cats."
Julian was back to his hostile mood. At least when they talked about the prince. When the subject wasn't the reason they were fighting, he went back to his calmer self.
"Nothing. The prince is just being a fucking jerk." He grumbled. "It doesn't matter what happened, I don't know either. And I don't care!"
And he went back to watching the class in silence. Evan saw that he could barely concentrate. Which was worse because Julian loves history.
No one else brought up the subject, Idie said it would be better if they stayed away from Kubark, and not upset Julian even more. Evan and Broo nodded with sad looks.
Logan spent the class talking about Earth's Hyborian Age, telling their class about the kingdoms of Attilan, Lemuria, and Mur. The class was quite interesting, even Lullaby had joined them to help Logan give the lecture. Evan was delighted to hear more about these ancient civilizations, while at the same time feeling sick at the thought that they would soon face the truth about his ancestry. Or whatever it was between him and Apocalypse.
At the end of the class, Logan thanked Lullaby and she left. He seemed to be in a hurry, and had already spent the entire class looking at his watch and the window. With the bell about to ring, he began writing on the blackboard so fast that it was difficult to understand his words.
"And since I don't want to see you fall behind again, while I'm gone, I want you write on this new subject." He said sternly, throwing the chalk on the table, making it bounce to the floor and break. "To keep you all busy and well-behaved."
The class groaned in unison. Quentin was still forced to sit in the front seat, and he was the loudest in his displeasure.
"As if you would read it." He grumbled sarcastically at Glob, the only one still listening to him.
Logan clenched his jaw and picked up another piece of chalk to write with. "Thirty lines is enough. Quire will write forty on this subject, and last week's."
There was clear satisfaction on his face when Quentin jumped out of his chair and began to complain loudly, while his classmates laughed and wrote down their homework, wanting to escape being punished along with him. The bell echoed through the halls.
Evan stood up and Logan was out before he could leave, his friends right behind. Or almost all of them.
"Sir, are you leaving again?"
Logan picked up the books on his desk, quickly glancing at Warbird standing in the doorway, waiting for the prince, then sighed and answered.
"I won't be gone for long. Only two days." He promised, walking past them with his shoulders raised. He saw Kubark leave with his nose in the air, looked between them, wondering why only four were following him, and locked the door.
"And what are you going to do?" Idie asked.
"I don't think this is any of your business." Logan rolled his eyes and left the room, the four of them following behind, curious. They reminded him of Jubilee and Kitty. "But... Iceman and I are going to accompany Warren on an important trip to New York."
"Can we say goodbye to him before you leave?" Evan asks.
Logan shrugs. "Sure, why not? Come on, we're leaving soon."
A car is waiting in the schoolyard. The students walk around, waving goodbye to Iceman and Angel. The math teacher is not in his ice form this time, wearing a blue suit and looking tired.
It was very rare to see him in his 'human' form, without the ice covering his skin. Evan and his friends walked right past him and went to say goodbye to Angel, who was sitting on the hood of the car, three bamfs sitting on his lap. He was dressed nicely in a two-piece suit, but he was still missing his shoes.
"Hi, Angel." Evan greeted cheerfully. His friends stayed a little further back, not feeling as familiar with the former X-Men as he did.
"Greetings, friends." Angel greeted them with the same energy. "How are you? Evan, have you been practicing your landing?"
Idie and Broo replied that they were fine, Julian shrugged. Evan nodded.
"Yeah, I think I'm improving."
"I'd like to see for myself when I get back." Angel stood in front of him, reaching out a hand to his shoulder, never touching it. "And how's your injury?"
Evan pursed his lips, gently holding Angel's hand. "It's getting better already."
The bamfs who were sitting on top of the car stood up, shouting something with joy, then ran to Idie, who picked them up.
"Angel, what are you going to do in New York?" She asked, letting two bamfs sit on her shoulder and her bag.
Angel shakes his head, his white eyes making it hard to tell if he’s rolling them. “The headmaster and Iceman said I have to go to court to decide whether or not I should continue to own my father’s company.”
“Your father?” Julian repeats slowly. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice. Evan glances over his shoulder at him, finding his brows furrowed and his gaze thoughtful.
“Apparently, I’m extremely wealthy,” Angel says, trying to find humor in it. “And I had no idea. If I had, I would have used that money for something good by now.”
“I believe that’s the point.” Julian waves his hand in the air to indicate the main building. “The school needs the money to stay open.”
Angel nods, bowing his head briefly. “I wish I could use those funds to help both the school and those in need. In that case, let’s hope everything goes well.” He smiles again, his chest rising and falling in a somewhat dramatic motion.
Evan watches him, frowning, easily sensing that something is bothering the man. He glances at Drake and Logan talking across the yard, almost growling at each other. He turns to Julian over his shoulder, nodding toward Angel.
The feral rolls their eyes and nods. They can smell something very unpleasant coming from him.
Turning back, Evan asks softly, "Are you okay, Angel?"
Angel stops, looking at him deeply, eyes wide. The air grows colder as Drake walks past them, quietly urging him to get in the car. Wincing, Angel nods, his lips stretching but not forming a smile.
"I am," he promises and straightens his suit jacket, turning his head hastily between the children and the car. "I think it's time to go. I'll see you when I get back. And I trust God that everything will be okay."
Evan smiles, agreeing with his words. Across the courtyard, Blindfold shakes her head sadly, standing still as a statue.
"It won't." She says to herself. All heads turn to her, already tasting the bitter taste of defeat.
The headmaster gets into the car with Drake and Angel, and the children watch them walk through the main gate and drive away. No one has much hope that the trial will go well. And not just because of Blindfold's new prediction.
*************
October 17, 2018
The next strange thing that happened was the very next morning. Professor Pryde was more than late for her ethics class, the students were getting bored. It was almost normal for them to have to cancel their classes for one reason or another, but until now, they had never missed an ethics class.
Pryde always showed up, and didn't let anyone leave until all the topics were learned. That morning, she didn't show up even after half an hour after the daily classes started. Some students were starting to get worried and restless. Others were taking even more advantage of the free time to study or have fun.
Evan was standing in front of Idie and Broo's desk, trying to understand the math calculations Drake had left for them. His classmates sitting right behind them that was distracting him and making him scratch his head to concentrate and remember how to use bhaskara correctly.
"Did you see that there's a new Spider-Man?" Tarantula’s voice cut through his thoughts and he turned around.
He was sitting on a table, showing his phone to other students. Half the class stopped what they were doing to look too, some pulling out their tablets or phones to confirm if it was true.
“No way! Seriously?” Hope shouted, jumping up on the table to grab Tarantula’s phone. “What happened to the other one?”
“I don’t know, but now there’s this one.” Tarantula pointed to the screen. They scrolled through YouTube, finding poorly recorded videos of New York’s skyscrapers. “There are some videos of him on the internet.”
“Black outfit. Original." Julian grumbled in their seat. Idie and Broo turned to look at their Tablet, Evan craning his neck over their heads.
The buzz grew louder as the gang searched for the latest Spider-Man. The videos showed a masked figure swinging across buildings, clinging to walls, and occasionally waving at the cameras. The only good footage they found was from a news channel that had gotten a photo of Spider-Man standing on the street, facing a burning building.
Unlike the Spider-Man they usually see, this one was much shorter, clearly young, and his costume was completely black. He noticed the camera and smiled once more, his big white eyes closing.
"Oh, he's kinda cool," Julian said with the tiniest of smiles.
"Looks like we have a lot of spider-themed superheroes." Broo said excitedly, bouncing in his seat.
"As if there wasn't already a Spider-Man in a black suit." Lewis, ever the pessimist, spoke from his chair.
"Nobody's seen that Spider-Man in twenty years." Roxy spoke from the front of the class.
Slouched across two empty desks in the corner, Quentin grumbled indifferently, almost irritably. "Everyone knows the blue Spider-Man and the black one are the same person, idiots."
"Of course not!" Hope shouted over her classmates. "The one in black was scarier."
"Who cares about that stuff? What's so special about this new guy?"
"He looks about our age." Idie pointed out, frowning. Clearly, this new young superhero couldn't be older than them, or younger than Hunter. That worried her.
"I thought there was already a teenage Spider." Evan says and turns to the rest of the class. The small group that has formed around Tarantula stops for a second, exchanges glances and then Cissie speaks, a little in disbelief.
"Aranña? It's not the same." She shows a picture of the heroine on her phone. "Now we have two Spiders our age. Isn't that cool?"
The room is divided between nodding enthusiastically or shrugging indifferently. In the back, Kubark is complaining to himself about how Earthlings don't know what real superheroes are or something, no one is paying attention.
Leaning on Julian's desk, Idie watches her classmates chat, even letting Evan join in. He asks questions about superheroes and smiles widely whenever someone answers and shows the same interest he does about the Avengers or any other hero. She smiles and shakes her head, turning to Broo and Julian.
"They get so excited about this superhero thing, don't they?" She says. Julian is the only one who slowly agrees with her. "It's getting boring having so many new faces."
"And with the same name." Julian gives her a sharp grin.
"You don't like superheroes, Oya?" Anole asks, sitting at the next table.
Idie shrugged indifferently, still not losing her good humor. “I don’t really care. Why would anyone want to be one?” Anole opens his mouth and she holds up a finger, shaking it in front of him. “And don’t tell me because it’s cool, we all know it’s not, especially since we’re mutants.”
Julian agrees. Turning off the Tablet and leaning back in their chair. “People love these guys for their powers and colorful costumes, but they hate us for the same reason. This superhero thing is old hat, it lost its appeal back in the 90s.” He sniffs deeply and looks out the door of the classroom.
Anole nods, merely agreeing with the comment of the two younger students, next to him, Match, however, snorts somewhat mockingly.
“Says the son of supervillains.” He says and Idie immediately frowns and stands up, pointing at him with an angry face.
“Say that again and I’ll turn you into a walking popsicle.” The air gets hotter as ice sprouts in her hand. Match opens his mouth in surprise, then apologizes and goes back to his Tablet.
With Idie sitting back down, Broo shakes her head. “Friend die, that’s not nice.”
“Not nice is how that they always talk bad about our friends, Broo.” Idie huffs. She looks at Julian, looking for a sign that he’s upset. The feral continues to rock in their chair, unconcerned.
“You know, Idie, I don’t care that much about what they say.” He nods toward the door, where Kitty walks past after nearly an hour. As the class straightens and returns to their seats, Julian opens a sharp grin. “I’m the son of supervillains.”
Professor Pryde sets her books down on the table, pausing to press her hand to her mouth before straightening her sweater and stepping to the front of the class. The students jump in their seats and place their tablets under their desks.
“Okay, enough chitchat. Don’t make me make your vocal cords intangible.” Kitty threatens, snapping her fingers, and surprisingly, the kids stop chattering and look at her. That's an improvement, she thinks. "Sorry it took so long."
"Did something happen?" Roxy asked. The class repeated the question, but the teacher seemed normal, aside from how pale she looked at the moment.
Kitty waved her hands in the air, assuring them that there was nothing wrong, with her or the school, and making up an excuse that she had to deal with some things in her office. Some students immediately noticed this, more than others.
"Are you sure, ma'am?" Quentin asked, with a smile too big to be genuine.
Kitty wrinkles her nose at him. "Yes, I am, Mr. Quire. Now, if you would be so kind and sit in the chair instead of your desk," she says stiffly. The telepath shrugs and throws himself into the chair, making it hit the wall hard.
Kitty sighs deeply and tells herself that she will change the seating arrangement once more. Not wanting to waste any more time, she smiles brightly and picks up her notebook.
"Anyway, I have some great news for you! Well, some good, some not so good."
The students smile too, leaning forward excitedly, all at once asking what she has to say.
"First of all, I have been planning a special trip for all the high school classes. For the past few months, the X-Men have been helping rebuild Genosha, and while it's a very..." She stops and purses her lips, looking between some of the students. "A complicated process. I asked if it would be possible for you to visit the island."
"What exactly for?" Tarantula asked.
"I think it would be wonderful to visit Genosha." Broo said, nodding excitedly. "Imagine the amount of history we could learn?"
"I thought that place was destroyed." Idie frowned at the teacher.
"Yeah, the Sentinels fucked it up." Anole nodded bitterly.
"I'm aware of that." Kitty said. "I thought it would be interesting. Genosha has been important to us since it was created, and we've been doing our best to fix everything. Even Okkara has offered resources to heal the island after the... after the attacks."
She swallows hard and clutches the notebook in her hands, eyes falling to the floor, she takes a moment to press her hand against her upper stomach, and take a deep breath.
“Miss Pryde?” Evan calls out with concern.
Kitty continues, turning a little paler. “And since you’re taking Mutant History, why not expand a little? An outdoor class would be much more fun, wouldn’t it?”
She smiles, but the class shrugs and remains undecided about the proposal. Most of them are wondering why the teacher looks so pale and sweaty. This uncertainty hurts her and she sets her notebook aside on the table.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I've already talked to the 10th and 12th grades, and many of the students there have agreed to go."
Julian raises an arm in the air. "Do we need to, like, ask our parents to sign some permission or somethin'?"
"Hey, Creed!"
"Very funny, Mr. Creed." Kitty rolls her eyes. Julian is very pleased with the reactions he got. "No, I know most of you don't have contact with your families. The choice is yours. If you want to go or not, just let me know and I'll make arrangements. The trip won't be until next month." She sits down, no longer feeling so excited about the idea.
Seeing her classmates giving such pessimistic opinions, Broo raises a paw in the air. "I'd like to make it clear that I'm totally in favor, and very excited for this very important activity, ma'am."
Kitty's eyes light up and she gives a small smile. "Thanks, Broo. Anyone else?" She looks at the other teenagers. Slowly, some heads nod, others go quiet, and argue among themselves. "We'll talk about it later, we still have time. But you know what we don't have much time to prepare for?" She leans forward on the table, her smile becoming mischievous. "Your exams."
She says this with such excitement, almost as if she were threatening them, and the class erupts in exclamations and complaints. Quentin, Glob, and Kubark are protesting in the back of the room.
"Exams?!" Hope throws her hands to her head. "So soon?"
Kitty laughs, clapping her hands together. She remembers having the same reactions when she was still a student at the Xavier Institute.
"Don't panic, the first exams will be in November, which gives us more than two weeks to study. That is if you actually study."
The class continues to protest, this time more quietly. Evan is quiet, flipping through the pages of his notebook, checking to make sure he has everything written down. In the back, Quentin was planning to get past Summers' block and get any answers he could. Kitty sees all this and shakes her head, waiting a moment before picking up her book and standing up.
“Let’s get on with this chapter so we can finish this book session in one go.” A few more complaints. “Yeah, no one’s excited about this, not even–”
The sound of the book hitting the floor makes everything else go silent. All heads snap up to find Kitty pressing a hand to her mouth, the other arm circling her stomach. This makes everyone jump, and a few chairs scrape as the teens stand up.
“Ma'am?” Echoes though the classroom.
Kitty looks up, swallowing. “Sorry, I think something I ate at lunch was bad?.” She lies and takes her hand away from her mouth.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Hope asks, bending down to pick up the book.
“And leave you alone and risk a fire?” Kitty asks sarcastically, her hand coming back to press against her lips. In the light from the window, she looks even more pale. “No, th–” The students gasp as she makes a sick sound. “I’ve already dealt with wors–” She ducks again.
“Ma'am, I think you should go,” Evan says. “We can get another teacher to accompany us today.”
“Martha is calling for Miss Lullaby.” Roxy and the other girls walk over to her.
Kitty looks like she’s going to throw up, having more and more trouble keeping her posture. The girls open the door and look for another staff member in the hallway, and she realizes that she really isn’t okay.
“Yeah, I think I should–”
The girls shriek and run away when the principal does throw up and leaves the room, hysterical screams hurting everyone’s ears, drawing the attention of anyone in the hallway. Kitty is already out of sight, having run towards the stairs leading to the teacher’s quarters instead of the elevator in the nurse’s office.
“And there she goes,” Julian mutters, pressing his hands to his nose.
It takes Mortimer ten minutes to get to the classroom to mop the floor, and all the while, Roxy, Hope, and Martha stand in the hallway, feeling sick. Soon Lullaby appears, entering the classroom in a bad mood, holding a stack of papers, as if she had left in the middle of class.
"What happened here, Mortimer?" she asks Toad, standing right behind him with a disapproving look.
The janitor huffs and continues mopping the floor, grumbling about having more work to do. "The Headmistress got sick and threw up. The brats said she ran upstairs." He splashes water on the floor, ignoring Lewis's complaints about it falling on his backpack. "You know, she wasn't feeling well this morning. She looked sick. I even told her she should take the day off and rest, but she wouldn't listen."
"I don't remember her saying anything about being sick." Lullaby turns to the students. "Kids, what's wrong with Kitty?"
"We don't know ma'am." Anole said, looking at his classmates, they all shrugged. "She was acting really weird when she came in. And she was even half an hour late for our class."
"And she refused to go to the nurse's office afterward." Roxy said.
"And she kept repeating in her head 'don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up' when she got to the class." Quentin laughs good-naturedly.
"Mr. Quire, get off that table." Lullaby orders. "I'll find someone to replace Kitty. And in the meantime, I'll ask someone to stay with you until lunch." She looks at Mortimer, who despite hating having to clean, promptly says he has to go back to the garden.
"Angel's not here, someone has to stop the bamfs from burning everything." He throws the mop over his shoulder and leaves, whistling a tune.
Lullaby takes a deep breath and floats to the door, calling the girls to come back into the room. "Stop the drama, already! Miss Johansson, can you reach Deathlok and ask him to come here?"
"I can do it!"
"Sit down, Quire!"
Five minutes later, as Deathlok stomped into view, Lullaby instructed him to keep an eye on the children until lunchtime while they finished the tasks Drake and Pryde had left on the table, and then floated away. Deathlok politely, yet stiffly, nodded and entered the classroom, ducking his head to pass through the door.
"Greetings again, young mutants of class A-9." He waved his new arm. The missing parts were in place, the old ones replaced with new.
"Deathlok, you've been fixed." Evan greeted him, happy to see him again.
"Partially. My systems are still not 100% functional.”
“You look much better,” Idie comments gently.
Deathlok winks at her and the others. “If you say so.” He stands rigid as a statue in front of the board. “Now, as Miss Carvalho instructed, you must return to your studies. The week of your school exams is coming up.”
“That’s like two weeks away.” Cissie says.
“No time should be wasted.” Deathlok gives her a cold look. “Open your books and get to work. I will not interrupt your study time.”
Whispers and complaints follow the cyborg's stern words, and the sound of pages and pencils is the only noise in the air for the next few minutes. Deathlok doesn't move a muscle, looking between each Mutant in the room, making sure they are doing as they were told. He catches a few using the Internet on their Tablets and cell phones, and marks their names in his mind, and remains silent.
His gaze falls on Evan Adel sitting in the middle of the room, hunched over his desk, anxious, he realizes. Tapping his pencil on his notebook, he knows the boy is not reading, but thinking about something. The other students around him are also drawing in their books. He frowns, opening his mouth to scold them, when Evan jerks his head up, the words already coming out in a rush.
"Deathlok, you said you know a lot about the future."
The class stops pretending to study to stare at Evan and the android. Deathlok freezes, thinks, and, since he can't avoid a direct question, answers casually.
"As previously stated, this unit is equipped with tachyon probability generators and can calculate statistical predictions for all possible future."
"You said that, but what does it mean?" Evan asks, even more curious.
Before Deathlok can give his own explanation, Martha is entering Roxy's mind, telling her something. The crystal girl nods and passes the message on to the class.
"He sees the possible timelines that can form depending on the actions we take. A little different from Blindfold, who can only see what is about to occur at a given moment."
"That is correct." Deathlok nods in a rehearsed manner. The children are already putting their schoolwork aside and this goes directly against the order Lullaby gave him earlier.
"Can you say... What could happen to us?" Match asks.
Everyone looks at the cyborg expectantly. Deathlok stands there, thinking. This isn't right. Children shouldn't know about the future, nor should they be distracted from their activities. He shakes his head and crosses his arms.
"This class should be preparing for their exam week."
"Yeah, but we don't have class until after lunch. Pryde and Drake aren't here." Hope says, grining along with Anole. "We can't study without their help."
In the back seat, Quentin sees this as a great opportunity to have fun and stands up, smiling broadly, in a way that everyone knows this is a terrible idea.
"That's right! So how about you tell us our future? That way, we'll be ready for any potential threats." He punches Glob in the arm, who nods excitedly.
"For our survival!"
The whole class agrees, some giggling at Deathlok's confused face. It's as if they've bypassed his programming and left him speechless. He is thoughtfully for another minute, his robotic eye glowing.
"That would be correct." He says finally, lowering his head and letting his arms fall to his sides in a rigid position. When he looks up, his eyes are normal and he looks determined. "Alright, young ones, I will grant your request and give you a brief insight into your possible future."
"I don't think that's a good idea." Broo shrinks in his seat.
Everyone tenses up, even though they asked, they're nervous at the idea of knowing what the future holds for them. Deathlok's good eye scans the young faces, the robotic one blinking different colors.
As always, Idie is the lucky one; sitting almost lazily in her seat in the front row, she doesn't blink when Deathlok waves his hand and all eyes turn to her.
"Idie Okonkwo, Oya, there is 34.7% chance that you will live to become a leader of the X-Men, and 39.7% chance that you will die in the next eight months at the hands of the Hellfire Club."
Fearful gasps follow. Idie's friends look at her in fear, Broo's small hand falling on her arm in warning. Idie, on the other hand, is unfazed, simply waving a hand.
"Can you tell if I'm going to hell or...?" She asks sarcastically. Julian lets out a laugh in spite of himself. Evan is staring at her in horror.
Deathlok shakes his head. "There is a 25.6% chance that you will join the Hellfire Club as the next Black Queen in the same time."
"Huh?" She finally shows confusion.
"Oh, that's cool." Quentin chuckles. "What else?"
"You know, I don't think we should do this anymore..." Evan raises his hand, and is ignored as Deathlok points to the telepath in the back.
"Quentin Quire, Kid Omega. 38.9% chance you'll be expelled this school year. 67.3% chance you'll burn the campus down first."
"Sounds about right to me." Quentin boasts, tossing his hair back.
"And 28.4% chance you'll die alone at the hands of the Hellfire Club."
Quentin's mouth drops open, filled with indignation and rage at the thought of that brat Kilgore and his little buddies doing anything to him. His classmates burst out laughing.
"Sounds about right to me!" Kubark chuckles in the background.
Quentin slumps in his chair, mulling over the information in anger. The class continues laughing for a while longer, and Deathlok doesn't stop his predictions. Each time he chooses a student, the class stops. Some of the next predictions are almost harmless and 'boring', according to some students, others are a bit surreal.
Match, for example, is happy to learn that he would continue to be an X-Man and have his own team. Hope shrugs when she learns that she will be taking a break for a while to go to college, already thinking about what she will do when she leaves school. Curiosity gets the better of everyone when Deathlok takes longer than necessary to tell Martha that she will have a big change in the next few years, leaving her beaming with joy.
"He can't just not tell us!" Glob slams his hand on the table in frustration. "I bet it's something boring."
Deathlok turns to him, frowning. "Robert Herman, Glob. 75.3% chance you'll be burned and shot to death, 24.7% chance you'll find a romantic partner and still be an X-Man."
"That's a high percentage, man." Quentin scoffs at him.
Glob sits up in his chair in fear, gripping the table in his hands. "How long?"
"Victor Borkowski, Anole." Deathlok looks away.
"HOW LONG?!"
"59.8% chance you'll graduate with honors ahead of your classmates and work for Worthington Industries. And 40.2% chance you'll undergo a massive and painful transformation and die within the next five years."
"What?" Anole gasps, and stands. He blinks and thinks for a moment, calming himself. "Wait. How long will it take me to graduate?"
Deathlok moves on, searching for the next candidate. He glances toward the back of the room, where the Strontian prince sits silently and isolated. He frowns once more, staring intently, before speaking.
"Kubark, son of Kallark, last of the Strontians. 45.4% chance you'll one day fight alongside the Avengers. 46.8% chance you'll one day fight against them."
Kubark finally takes an interest in the lecture and slams his fist down on the table, cracking the surface. He finally smiles, in good humor.
"HA! I'll accept it either way!"
The class rolls their eyes. Deathlok continues to stare.
"And a 7.8% chance that you'll become a Super Guardian and inherit your father's position."
"WHAT? WHY NOT BOTH?! WHY SUCH SMALL PERCENTAGES?!"
The cyborg looks at the Guthrie twins, who say they're not interested in knowing, but he tells them anyway. They calm down when they learn that they won't be becoming X-Men, leaving some of their classmates disappointed. Others are more excited when they learn that they'll be joining the training program next year, already discussing their codenames.
"Broodling known as Broo." Deathlok turns to the alien and raises his eyebrows. "22.3% chance that in the next seven years and five months you will discover a cure for cancer. 77.7% chance that during that same period you will kill and consume at least four of your current classmates. Three of them are in this room."
The class falls silent, freezing in fear. Broo simply adjusts his glasses on his face.
"Oh, that's quite interesting."
"Oh, God." Roxy hides her face in her hands.
"Can you at least give us names?" Match asks fearfully. Deathlok shakes his head in denial.
"Roxane Washington, Bling!, 67.5% chance you'll become a leader of the X-Men in the next four years. 32.5% chance you'll drop out school."
"That's not going to happen." Roxy shrugs, not specifying what she plans to avoid in the future.
"Julian Creed, son of Sabretooth. 54.7% chance you'll become a mercenary and earn a bigger bounty than your parents."
"Oh, that sounds good." Julian says sarcastically. Evan and Idie look at them with concern, he hopes it's not fear.
"45.4% chance you'll become a leader of the X-Men in the next few years and join the Jean Grey School as an employee."
"Oh, man." Lewis whispers to his sister. "Now we're screwed."
"Hah! That's great!" Quentin claps. "Finally a class worth staying up for. Who's next?"
Everyone looks around, affirming that they had their turn, and looking for what's left. The room goes quiet as they realize. Evan is still sitting silently in his chair. Unease sets in, and he notices, Deathlok is also hesitating, his eyes blinking as he looks directly at him.
The air grows even more tense, until the cyborg closes his eyes and leaves the room.
"That concludes the lecture."
Evan stares in horror at his back, not even trying to ask why. Deathlok stands in front of the door, and when he looks around, his teammates are avoiding looking at him, going back to their notebooks or talking about what Deathlok told them.
*************
Worthington Industries Headquarters.
Sitting at the end of the large wooden table, Angel is completely impressed by the grandeur of the place. He, Wolverine and Iceman had spent the night in a hotel, and that morning, they were quickly taken to the Worthington's headquarters building. And since they entered the meeting room, there was not a second that a camera was not pointed at his face.
It makes him uncomfortable, makes him wonder if the old Warren felt this way too, if he learned to ignore the flashes or if he enjoyed the attention. He keeps looking at the elegant walls, at the people sitting on either side of the long table, some still standing around the room. Everyone has been very polite, a kind of cordiality that borders on falseness.
Hands shake his, people ask how he feels. They refer to him as Warren, and he never tries to correct them. After all, Angel is not a name. And it is not his.
He has no memories of the place, or what he did here. Sometimes, when Hank and Bobby lent him memories of his time as X-Man, he would hear about the company. Never about his family, or what he did there. From what little he has gathered, whatever happened to his family has distanced him.
He thinks it's silly. It shouldn't be this easy for him to lose his family. But, it seems like the old Warren had already decided who his family was, and he was happy.
His mind flies and he continues to tap his fingers on the fancy wood, voices not being fully understood, he is only sure that one of the directors of the board is speaking. A blonde woman with a stern face, and glasses that slide down the bridge of her nose.
"After much deliberation, this board has made its decision. So, Mr. Worthington?" The woman turns to him.
Angel doesn't remember her name, only that her father was at his side when he was still running the company. She speaks more than the other directors, and seems colder than anyone else.
"Hm?" He blinks. Realizing his mistake, he puts a hand on the back of his neck. "Apologies. I'm still not used to people referring to me by that name."
The blonde woman sighs deeply and turns to her colleagues, a hand extended toward Angel.
"That is exactly the issue at hand. Given the events that have recently come to light regarding Mr. Worthington's increasingly erratic behavior, it is now painfully obvious to everyone that our longtime CEO has suffered a mental breakdown. And suddenly and mysteriously so." She turns back to the X-Men, narrowing her eyes at Wolverine, standing just behind Angel's chair.
"Wait..." The school's headmastera raises his hand, she doesn't give him time to speak.
"Regrettably, we hereby declare Mr. Worthington mentally unfit to lead this company."
The board of directors immediately agrees, talking amongst themselves in loud voices. Angel is amazed at how quickly they come to the decision. Beside him, Bobby, who was already fidgeting in his chair, leans across the table, pointing a hand at the woman.
"Wait a minute, Miss Branson! You didn't even let him speak!" Iceman protests and grabs Angel's shoulder. "You can't just kick him out of his own company without giving Warren a chance to explain himself."
Another round of murmurs, heads shaking. Miss Branson is impassive, a single well-shaped eyebrow raised, and she looks Angel up and down. Clicking her tongue, she leans back in her chair.
"Very well. Mr. Worthington, what do you have to say in your defense?"
Now everyone is looking directly at him. Angel doesn't know what to do. He has no idea what has been going on in his life for months, he barely knows who he himself is. These people have such cold auras, some even cruel, that they suffocate him. He looks at a few faces, trying to remember what he should be doing. His mind remains blank and he clenches his hands on the table.
"I..."
"Do you believe you are in the right mental state to continue leading the company?" Branson asks sharply.
Angel looks at her, swallows hard. Then across the room, against the wall, a person is not participating in the meeting. A man hidden behind a newspaper, who has not yet shown his face. His empty eyes narrow so that he can actually see his aura. Too dark. He looks away and thinks about what to say.
Bobby looks like he is going to start freezing the room at any moment. Well, he needs to figure it out for the sake of the entire school.
"I believe so," he says, looking up to be more confident. "There is nothing wrong with me. My mind and spirit are perfectly fine." And it is the truth. He hopes so. "If you mean the incident, I assure you that I have not suffered any serious after-effects."
"What about your memory loss?" Miss Branson asks. "Your erratic behavior?"
"We heard that you attacked a father and two children in Westchester." One of the older directors snorts.
Bobby stands up once more, pointing at the man. "That's not true!"
"I wasn't attacking them," Angel explains, not liking his tone. "I was merely trying to help."
The same man throws a stack of newspapers on the table. Angel stands to pick them up and sits back down, he and Bobby go through the chosen headlines. They all talk about the X-Men, and two of them show Warren flying over Salem Center a few weeks ago. One of the headlines calls him the "Fallen Angel."
"The victims said you broke into their property, claiming you were an 'angel' and that you were there to perform a miracle," Branson says cynically. "And that you... tried to bring an animal back to life."
"That's true." Angel nods weakly. He'd almost forgotten about that incident. It's clear now that he should fix it. It's easier to admit it now that he knows he's just a mutant. "I said that, but at no point did I attack them. I understand that I scared them, and I'd like to apologize. But..."
"But?" Branson clicks his tongue. "Do you have any idea how that sounds?"
"He's clearly confused." Another older man, further away, snaps, throwing a hand in the air. "He doesn't even sound like the old him anymore."
"Mr. Worthington, what about your memory loss?" One of the women standing in the doorway asks. "You understand that we can't accept you back into your position while you're like this."
"I know." Angel lowers his head.
Behind him, Wolverine lets out a low growl that he can no longer hold back, drawing the room's attention to him.
"We're taking care of him. Our doctors are helping him recover at school, we're doing everything we can to get him back to his old self. It's a difficult process. The accident was severe." He grumbles, baring his teeth.
"And can you tell us exactly what happened to put him in this state?" Another man asks, pointing a microphone at the school headmaster.
"No. That's confidential." That's all he says.
The table fills with gruff voices talking over each other, claiming they can't possibly hear Angel again, that he's confused. Miss Branson raises a hand, bringing order to the room once more.
"I'd like to ask Mr. Worthington a few questions to determine his condition," she proposes, and the table falls silent. "If he can answer them, we'll consider allowing him to serve on the board again. Without the opportunity to dictate orders, of course, until he recovers."
Angel exchanges glances with Bobby and Logan, who nod or shrug. Very helpful, he thinks angrily.
"Go ahead."
"We've been helping him get his memories back," Bobby says. "I believe... he's doing much better."
"He certainly is," Branson says sarcastically and clasps her hands on the table, turning to Angel, staring intently. "Mr. Worthington."
Angel mimics her, his hands clenching on the wood of the table. He nods for her to continue, and for a moment, the light coming from her shines a little brighter.
"Before you took over the company, it was owned by your father. Can you tell us, what do you remember about him? Do you remember your time as CEO?"
Oh, no. Angel's eyes widen and he starts to sweat. That's one of the only things he doesn't remember. The X-Men haven't shown him any memories of his family. He doesn't think they've seen much of them.
“I… he… I don’t… I don’t remember.” He stammers after a long, painful silence.
"Anything?” Branson insists.
“No. I didn’t get a chance to… those memories are still… lost.” He lets his head fall. The metal wings flap against the chair. He wishes he could free them, but he already knows the entire council doesn’t like the sight.
Branson’s light goes out once more and she grimaces, turning completely to the rest of the council, speaking in a serious, assured voice.
"As much as it pains me, after all the effort Mr. Worthington has put into continuing the work of the late Warren Worthington Jr., this board has no choice but to strip him of all authority over this company. Effective immediately." She looks at Bobby and Wolverine. "And we pray that he recovers quickly."
Everyone nods. The cameras flash back to his face, and more wait outside the building. Wolverine lets out a heavy breath, and Bobby slumps in his chair with his hand on his head, probably thinking of a thousand alternatives, or just thinking about how much they've lost right now.
"This meeting is over."
"I understand." Angel stands up, clutching his coat. "Thank you for your time. If you'll excuse me."
And he's the first one out of the room, raising his hands to shield his face from the flashes. His shoulder collides with the silent man in his path, he apologizes, and keeps walking.
Bobby and Logan don't stay in the building long either. They avoid the crowd of reporters standing in front of the building, and Wolverine even cuts the camera wires when they get too close, and keep walking until they find Angel sitting on a bench in a secluded area, his coat gone, his wings free. He had to fly away when he was surrounded on the way out.
"His accounts are already frozen," Bobby says as they approach, swiping his phone frantically. "No way we're getting anything done now. Holy shit, this is a disaster."
"We'll figure it out." Logan growls. "Let's get back to school. I'm not staying here another minute."
"The company paid for our rooms until tomorrow."
"Fuck them!" Logan kicks a can on the floor.
Angel waits for him to fall onto the bench next to him, defeated. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." He mumbles, his shoulders slumped forward, his wings spread behind him.
"It's okay, Warren." Bobby says softly.
He shakes his head, dismissing his kindness. "That money was important to help our students. What do we do now, Wolverine?"
"We've already burned through most of the money." Bobby answers over Logan. "Since Gladiator and Van Dyne Enterprises sent us supplies, we've managed to hold on for a while longer. This won't last forever. We need another alternative. We can't take care of the kids with just dreams."
He starts walking in front of Angel and Logan, clutching his cell phone tightly in his hands, the ice already covering his shoes and the collar of his coat, leaving a trail on the stone floor.
Logan is running his hands through his hair, his mind racing. "You, Coral, and Sway are juggling the numbers. Do what you can, just keep the lights on and the hallways warm."
"We can't fucking juggle anymore than we already have!" Bobby yells, waving his phone in the air. "We've told you several times. Krakoa's attack was totally unexpected and caused a lot of damage. And don't get me started on the shit the bamfs do every day, or how many times we have to replace uniforms for the students."
Logan sighs. The kids have already destroyed so many uniforms with their stupid fights. And the bamfs have been behaving better these past few days, not making as much of a mess, but that's not enough.
He frowns as a scent hits him. Surreptitiously looking up, he stays bent over on his knees, searching for the source. And there he is, walking down the stairs from the company headquarters entrance, the same guy who attended the meeting but had been quiet the whole time. He's smiling, as if he's won something.
Logan keeps staring at him until he's out of sight. And he notices that Warren is doing the same, just not with the same intensity.
"We grow our food and create energy, but what about the rest?" Bobby continues talking.
"I thought Mrs. Van Dyne would have provided materials," Angel says, turning his attention to the Iceman.
"It's not enough, Warren. If we can't stay afloat this school year, we can't even dream of staying open for the next one." Bobby looks at the headmaster, seeing him paying attention to something else. "Logan? Are you listening to me?"
Wolverine stands, pulling his traveling jacket over his suit, and pulls his hat over his head to hide his face. "I'll find a way. You two go back to the hotel or to school." He pats Angel on the shoulder and starts walking back toward Worthington Enterprises.
"An illegal way, right?" Bobby shouts over the wind.
"We're not closing the school. No matter what. Kitty and Hank are in charge until I get back." And Logan keeps walking, even faster now.
"Wait! You said you weren't going to bring any more illegal business to school again!" Bobby tries to follow him, until he remembers he's supposed to keep an eye on Warren. He walks back to the bench and sits down next to his friend, feeling defeated. "Can we trust him not to do anything stupid?"
A hand falls on his shoulder, and Angel smiles, even though he doesn't feel so confident.
"We don't have a choice, do we?"
************
Evan remained absent-minded for the rest of the day, barely saying a word since Deathlok's 'lecture'. His friends were also upset that the cyborg had left him out, and agreed that the whole situation was a terrible idea. The future didn't seem like a good place, no matter how many possibilities Deathlok had dictated, they would have preferred not to listen.
Or maybe, looking at how thoughtful Evan was, that was what he wanted.
"Did you hear anything from Miss Pryde?" Idie asked as they left philosophy class.
"Besides that she locked herself in the bathroom for three hours and scared the second grade by throwing up in front of them?" Julian asked. "She went to her room and never came out."
"I hope she's better." Broo commented.
"I wonder if it's a virus?" Evan asked, finally looking at his friends. "I don't like being sick."
“If it is, the teachers will handle it.” Idie shrugged, also hoping it wasn’t. She didn’t like getting sick either.
They stopped at their lockers, throwing their books and belongings inside. As they walked through the halls, they saw that many of the holograms that indicated the time or rooms were showing notices that exam week and Halloween were approaching, and anyone who wanted to help with the decorations for the end of the month could go talk to Miss Lullaby.
This boosted their spirits a bit, and they discussed joining in as well, while they waited for Broo to put their things in their lockers. Their excitement didn’t stop even when Julian joked that he was going to dress up as some slasher, or when Hope came skipping up to them.
“Hey, Idie!” she said, her voice full of excitement. “Hi, boys.” She gave each of them a quick wave, frowning at how Creed and Broo were grinning, fangs bared.
“What do you need, Hope?” Idie asked her.
“The girls and I are going to study together at the library, do you want to come with us?” Hope asked enthusiastically, almost bouncing on the spot.
Idie was surprised, she didn’t remember being invited before. Although she talks a lot to the girls in her class, she spends a lot of time with her group of friends that has formed in the last few weeks.
Which makes her feel bad because Hope clearly didn’t invite them. And she knows that the girls don’t like her friends, for one reason or another. Idie can let that go, as long as they don’t be rude to them.
“I…” She stammered and looked between her friends. Julian shrugged, Broo and Evan didn’t feel like saying anything, even nodding to encourage her to go. Then she smiled at Hope. “Of course! See you later, boys!"
Hope links their arms and the two of them run off to the library, Idie giving them one last wave before turning the corner. Hope didn't let go of her the whole way, just slowing her pace as she entered the library, leading her to the table where her classmates were.
"Hey, Idie. You know you're pretty cool, right?"
"Am I? Thanks? You too." She smiles, making Hope chuckle.
Roxy Washington, Alaya Aderson, Martha Johansson, and Cissie Guthrie were secretly sharing snacks and sodas, each with their own books. They welcomed her and offered her snacks.
Idie happily accepted and helped them with their Mutant History essays. She didn't have much knowledge about the subject, and was very excited to be able to read the books that Utopia had sent her. The girls talked as much as their friends, teasing each other and getting distracted in the middle of studying. This was never a problem for Idie, and soon she had two pages of drafts to turn in to Professor Logan.
Cissie lent her a colored pen. She unfortunately had to decline and use her regular pen. Cissie then gave it to her to keep, and Idie smiled so wide that her fingers froze on the edge of the table.
"Be careful, Idie." The blonde girl laughed softly.
Idie swept the ice off the table and began writing her paper, standing up momentarily to listen to what the girls were talking about. She was secretly grateful that no one was discussing Deathlok's lecture, and decided to write it off as a big joke or mistake on the cyborg's part.
The only ones who were really excited about what he said were Hope and Martha, who were talking telepathically, after Cissie told them she wasn't interested in listening.
"I think I like Anole. He's smart and cool." Alaya said to Roxy, her bees buzzing above the table, flying in circles. They were leaning against each other, writing on a sheet of paper with colored pen.
"He's gay." Roxy informed them. "And I think he has a thing for Paras."
"No way! Seriously?" Cissie asked, a big smile stretching her cheeks. Idie looked up quickly.
“I saw them in one of Sway’s advanced classes,” Roxy says in a low voice. “They look cute together.”
“So… take Anole and Paras off the list.” Cissie starts crossing off a few words on the paper, grimacing as she reads the next name. “And Quire. Why is he here?”
“Cross Glob too,” Hope demanded.
“Why?” Cissie asks. They all give her a scolding look. “Come on, girls, he’s not that annoying.”
“Wake up, Cissie, he doesn’t pick on you because he doesn’t want any trouble with any of your brothers.” Hope rolls her eyes. “But he’s a pain in the ass to the rest of us.”
“Next, Lewis.” Roxy continues crossing off names. Idie decides to put her essay aside to listen to them.
“I’d rather not talk about my brother. What about Adel and Creed?”
The table filled with mockery. Alaya's bees buzzed as they returned to her head, she was grimacing behind her sunglasses.
"I can't even include those two."
Idie frowned, finally joining the conversation. "Why not?" She asked and her classmates turned to her. "Evan is a sweetheart, he's just shy. And Julian is annoying sometimes, but he's nice."
The girls continued to look at her as if she had grown a second head that only talked nonsense. Idie didn't care about it, what bothered her was that she could see how silly they thought she was for defending her friends, and for seeming genuine when she talked about them. And how Hope crossed out two names. It was childish what they were doing, but it didn't make their reactions any less cruel.
Martha's voice entered their minds, a little weaker since she had to split herself into several to be heard by everyone.
“I agree with Idie about Evan. I would like to, you know, go out with him.” She giggles. Idie can see her blushing, but her thoughts quickly darken. “I don’t agree about Creed, though. He’s just as boring as Glob and the prince.”
The girls agree with Martha. Idie gets even more upset and looks at the essay in front of her.
“Why do you spend so much time with them, Idie?” Hope asks her. “You’re so sweet.”
“They’re my friends,” Idie says sharply. “And they’re not a bad company.”
“Maybe just to you.” Cissie says, with more sarcasm than Idie would like. “Why do you hang out with villains’ kids?”
So that’s why. Idie crosses her arms, looking at each of them intently. “Just because Julian’s dad is a villain doesn’t mean they are too. And that guy is probably dead by now, so it’s nice to talk about their family.”
“Okay, but what about Adel?" Roxy continues. "Did he tell you what happened to his father? Or grandfather? How is he related to Apocalypse?” She asks, narrowing her bright eyes.
Idie doesn’t understand what she’s talking about. Evan always talked about his parents and his uncle Charlie, but never about any other relatives. Apparently, he has no family other than them, and no other relatives outside the country. Which is certainly strange, but Idie would never ask too many questions that make him uncomfortable.
“What do you mean?”
“His father, Idie.” Alaya persists. “What happened to him?”
“Evan said his parents are in Europe…” Idie stammers. The girls exchange glances. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” Cissie lets out a nervous giggle, looking at Hope and whispering something.
Idie holds up her hands to silence them when they all start talking at once to each other. Even Martha’s jar is blinking furiously, showing that she’s getting more confused and trying to talk to all the girls.
“Who’s Apocalypse?” Idie asks firmly. She doesn’t remember hearing that name before. Well, not that it wasn’t in the Bible classes she had before, in Nigeria, with her sister and mother.
And the girls start talking loudly, one over the other. Hope even stands up, waving her hands.
“The world’s cruelest villain!” she exclaims, her head in her hands. “One of them, at least. Come on, Idie, you should–”
“She doesn’t know.” Martha echoes in their minds, making them stop talking. Her voice changes, going only to Idie’s mind. “We’ll learn about him in Mutant History class. You’ll see. Evan looks so much like him. We think he’s the son of the Apocalypse.”
Cissie raises her hand in the air. “I think he’s his grandson, or something.”
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Alaya asks when she sees Idie’s expression. “We think he’s hiding something.”
“I read his mind.” Martha admits. He doesn’t know anything. So… I think it’s better if we don’t–”
“You read Evan’s mind?” Idie interrupts her, incredulous. Martha lets go of the connection between them, leaving a trail of apologies. Idie shakes her head and looks seriously at the girls.
"Listen, I don't care if my friends' families are villains or heroes, they're still nice and I like them. And I don't tolerate other people talking bad about them. So you better stop."
She grabbed her essay and quickly started writing again, becoming even more upset when her handwriting wasn't as perfect as it used to be. She sighed, knowing she would have to redo it. Beside her, Hope opened her mouth, but Idie held up a finger to silence her.
"No, I don't want to know."
The conversation took another turn. And although Idie calmed down later and joined them, she couldn't get the name Apocalypse out of her head.
*************
“What’s wrong?” Evan asked Julian as they opened their eyes.
“I think someone’s gossipin' about me.” The feral grumbled, leaning back against the tree. Careful not to wake Broo. The alien was sleeping comfortably on their thigh. “Mama said you can always tell when someone’s talking shit about you. I bet it’s Quire.”
“Why would he gossip about you?” Evan smirks. “You're not that interesting."
Julian laughed with him, pushing his shoulder against his. It’s colder, which must be why Broo fell asleep so easily when he sat against himthem. Not that he minds. Evan is also using them as his personal heater.
"Are you okay?" They ask quietly, their hand against Broo's head, as if to keep him from listening.
"Now we know why Miss Pryde tried to keep Deathlok away from us."
"They should have given specific instructions if they didn't want him talking shit." Julian snorts. How could Logan not have been more careful? He's getting old, Dad's voice says in his head with sick humor.
"Wolverine still thinks no one knows anything." Evan rolls his eyes, more than a little frustrated with all this dancing around him.
"No, he knows no one here is stupid. I hope he does." Julian says. "Are you going after Buckethead?"
"Of course not!" Evan whispers urgently. Julian glares. "I'm not! I don't want to..."
"Evan, I can smell lies from afar." Julian shakes their head. They won't get involved in this anymore, he tells himself. "Just be careful not to find out anything... anything that will make you feel bad."
"I don't know if that's possible." Evan sighs.
Broo starts to move, lifting his head from Julian's thigh, his small body shaking all over as he stretches.
"What are you talking about?" He asks sleepily, sitting down on the grass.
"Nothing, Broo. Just about class." Julian hands his glasses. Always so careful not to upset him too.
Broo keeps his head down, mumbling. "I didn't like what Deathlok said."
Oh. Evan and Julian exchange glances. No one had commented on Broo's dire prediction. Some had even taken it as a joke. And his friends knew that anything related to his family upset him, so Deathlok had crossed more than one line that morning.
"Yeah, he's a piece of shit." Julian could barely hide his anger. He continued to caress Broo's head, careful with his claws. "Don't worry about it, not everything he said is true."
"If you say so, friend." Broo was no less sad. He and Julian noticed Hunter approaching at the same time. The little boy was running towards them, hiding in a scarf too long to see his face. "Hello, friend Hunter!"
"What's up, cub?" Julian asked. His brother knelt down beside them, almost wedging himself between him and Evan, pulling his knees closer.
"Er... Um... some of my classmates..." He stammered, his face covered by his beanie and scarf.
"Are they messing with you again?" Evan squeezed his shoulder.
Julian growled softly. "I can fix this."
"No!" Hunter grabbed his arm. "It's not those same idiots. Leonara Eng and Markos Argyros invited me to study with them in the library after school."
"And what's wrong with that, friend?" Broo asked with a half smile.
"It's already after school. But I'm too embarrassed to go there alone." Hunter hid deeper in his scarf.
"Hunter..." Julian rolled his eyes. Standing up, he pulled his brother along. "I'll take you there. What are you two going to do now?"
Broo shivered at the loss of warmth, also standing up. "Dr. McCoy asked for my help preparing for tomorrow's class. So I'll be busy and I won't be attending dinner tonight."
Evan stammered, not really having an excuse. "I'm going to help Mortimer close the greenhouses."
Julian and Hunter said goodbye and walked around the yard to building six, hugging each other to escape the cold.
"Are you alright, friend?" Broo asked Evan, his voice weak. Evan tried to smile.
"Yeah. See you tomorrow." He patted the alien and watched him run off to find warmth inside the school.
Evan waited until he was alone before running, looking for Deathlok on the garden. The teachers had him on security duty, so he should be walking around the school. Avoiding him, he thought angrily.
He was tired of all this mess. If the future was as bad as Deathlok said it was, and if all his classmates had different possibilities to do good things, or go through bad things, why couldn't he? Who said he only had one chance?
The gardens were already all covered, the greenhouses closed, there was almost no one outside because of the dropping temperature. It didn't take Evan long to spot Deathlok marching through the courtyard behind the main building.
"Deathlok!" Evan shouted and ran towards him. The cyborg quickly turned his back on him. "Please wait."
"The lecture is over, young man. Get back to your studies
Evan walked around him, standing in front of him to stop his march. "I'm sorry. I just... Everything in my life has been so strange and I've always had this feeling... that there's something people aren't telling me. My uncle, my teachers, my classmates... sometimes I feel like I don't even know who I am!"
Deathlok stares at him, his eye now flickering between red and yellow. Evan steps closer, almost pleading.
"I just have to ask you: what do you see when you look at me? What does my future hold?"
Deathlok's eyes turn red, countless possibilities racing through God's systems. One stands out, and he delves deeper into it.
*************
Somewhere in the possible future.
He can't move. Or speak. His operating systems were destroyed when he was thrown through the school walls and crushed under the rubble. He hopes the kids made it through the portals and to safety.
It's unclear how much time has passed since then. The wall has been lifted and he's almost free. Gladiator, as tall and strong as his father, catches him with one hand, the loose parts falling to the ground, then carries him roughly into the school, where his teammates have gathered. He doesn't blame him for the rough way he's thrown to the ground.
"I always figured that old rust bucket would outlive us all." Quire kneels in front of him.
The Brood sits on his back and attaches a cable to his head, claws flailing furiously at his screen, wings flapping. He's much bigger than Deahtlok remembers.
"What could have done this to him?" Oya is too busy looking around the destroyed school, giving him a quick glance.
“The same thing that set the sky on fire, no doubt.” The Brood says in his deep voice. “The reading on those powers is off the charts. They’re higher than yours, friend.” He points to Quire and crouches down next to Deahtlok, noticing that he’s awake, just motionless. “They’re disturbingly familiar, too. Though I hope for once I’m wrong. I’ll call Anole and Rescue.”
"Julian and the others should be on their way here now." Gladiator remains in the air above them, keeping an eye on the skies. "The city is safe. We all know who did this. And we all know what needs to be done." The sound of more explosions in the distance makes him angrier, his eyes glowing red. "I'll rip his head off for this!"
"KG might have the right idea," Quentin scoffs.
Oya turns to them. "How could you..."
Footsteps approach in a rush. Creed lands next to them, his head and shoulders covered in raging flames. "He killed Krakoa, Idie."
"Julian! He's our friend, you'd never say that!"
The feral walks past her. "We have no choice. Omega?"
Deathlok loses sight of them, only Brood remaining behind as the others head for the school entrance.
"He's coming for us now." Quentin says in pain, probably extending his telepathy. "He's like this. He's always been like this."
Somewhere far away, Krakoa lets out a final scream of pain as it sinks into the earth. Deathlok can't see Apocalypse flying above the city, watching the living island burn and shatter.
"He's Apocalypse," Quentin growls.
His team can't disagree this time. They march toward their former friend with grim expressions. Deathlok's systems fail when Broo finally shuts him down.
***********
Back to the right present.
"Please, just tell me... who am I?"
He can't bring himself to tell the boy what he saw. He tries to find other possibilities. Every path from this moment takes leads back to that day. He hopes, he really hopes, that something will be able to keep Evan good, for the years to come. That something really good will happen to keep that gentle spirit he has now.
"That... is what you're here to discover." It's all he says. Turning his back on him, Deahtlok hides in the closet where he sleeps, leaving Evan behind.
No one notices the ship that was approaching Earth at that moment, secretly orbiting its system.