Cradle of Ambition

Posted on Thu Jan 30th, 2025 @ 1:59am by Nathaniel Essex & Aurora Summers

3,504 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: [undisclosed]
Timeline: December 3rd, 1990

A golden portal spiraled open with an elegant hum, its energy rippling like liquid light. Lord Sinister stepped through with theatrical grace, his crimson diamond gleaming faintly under fluorescent lighting. His long coat billowed behind him as he gestured subtly, and Aurora followed, her wide eyes taking in the alien, unsettling beauty of the laboratory in which she found herself. She was silent, her breath catching in her throat as she crossed the threshold and beheld the overwhelming display of wealth and scientific ambition.

The laboratory was a cathedral of science, an edifice to the unyielding pursuit of knowledge adorned with gilded opulence and sterile precision. Fluorescent lighting illuminated the room, casting its cold, antiseptic glow over cryogenic storage tanks humming quietly in the background. Transparent vats bubbled softly, their contents indistinct but vaguely organic, suspended in viscous liquid. Polished metal and gold-trimmed fixtures gleamed, reflecting the state-of-the-art equipment arranged with care throughout the cavernous space. It was a place of brilliant innovation and chilling purpose.

Aurora wasn’t sure whether to be in awe of what she was seeing, or whether to be afraid of the obvious laboratory she was now standing in. What had she gotten herself into? Gotten her son into? For a few moments her mind filled with fear, before the feeling of the power that had courses through her back at Muir Island came to mind. The sheer feeling of that power had made her feel like she could do anything, and her fear of losing her son had driven her this far, there was no going back now.

Standing at the far end of the room, startled but quickly composing himself, was a man of average height, wearing a white lab coat and rimless glasses. His hair was peppered with gray, his sharp features betraying both intelligence and an edge of ruthlessness. Though his expression showed surprise at the sudden intrusion, his demeanor remained calm in familiarity tempered with a trace of deference.

“Doctor,” Sinister intoned, his voice like velvet coated in malice, his piercing gaze locking onto the man. “I trust the preparations are complete.”

The scientist dipped his head slightly, his tone brisk but respectful. “They are, my lord. I’ve ensured every parameter is precise. All is in readiness.”

Sinister allowed a slow, predatory smile to spread across his face, the corners of his mouth curving unnaturally. “Exemplary, as always, Dr. Moreau. Your tireless dedication to our shared cause is most… inspiring.” His words dripped with calculated condescension, a master toying with his favored pet.

Dr. Moreau adjusted his glasses, his gaze flicking briefly toward Aurora before returning to Sinister. “If you’d like, I can begin immediately,” he offered, his voice clipped and efficient.

Sinister gave an approving nod, his diamond sparkling ominously in the lab’s unforgiving light. “Yes, doctor. Let us not squander the gift of time. The future awaits, and we shall sculpt it in our image.”

Flapping the length of his long coat over one shoulder as a cape, Sinister turned to his quarry. “My dear Aurora,” he purred, gesturing toward a sleek, leather-lined chair that stood near the center of the laboratory. “You must be weary from your journey. Sit. Rest. Dr. Moreau will see to your well-being. He is quite skilled at his craft.”

Aurora looked between Sinister and Moreau, before looking back at Sinister. It took a moment before she walked over to the chair and sat down, no sooner had she done so then the chair was surrounded by a telekinetic shield. “I want to know exactly what you are going to do to me, I came here to protect my son. I won’t let you harm him.”

Sinister’s crimson eyes glimmered with something akin to amusement as he regarded Aurora in her defiance. He stepped forward, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that was both charming and unsettling. “My dear Aurora,” he began, his voice rich and smooth like dark velvet. “Protect him? Why, you misunderstand me entirely. Your child represents everything I have labored for which I have labored for over a century. He is the culmination of my ambitions, the nexus of evolution and destiny. The future of the entire world may depend on him. And as the old adage goes, ‘the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.’ Doom upon any who would harm him!”

As he spoke, Sinister walked directly toward her, his strides purposeful yet unhurried. He passed through her telekinetic shield with any hindrance whatsoever, as though it were mere air. “I see your gifts are formidable,” he murmured, “but truly, Aurora, you could never harm me. Not when we are bound by blood.” His voice softened slightly, feigning warmth. “Not when we are family.”

Aurora stiffened, her eyes narrowing as her shield dissipated in defeat. Before she could react further, Sinister produced twin devices from his coat and, with a flick of his wrist, placed them against her temples. The mechanisms clicked into place, embedding themselves shallowly into her skin. Aurora gasped as her telepathic and telekinetic abilities were suddenly and completely silenced.

Sinister chuckled softly, his tone still falsely paternal. “There now. This is for your safety, my dear, as well as the child—and for Dr. Moreau, of course. We wouldn’t want any… unpleasant accidents, would we?”

With a gesture, metallic restraints rose from the chair, snapping securely around Aurora’s wrists and ankles. She strained against them instinctively, but Sinister simply shook his head with an air of amused condescension. “Struggling will do no good,” he said firmly. “It will only endanger the precious child. For his sake, I suggest you remain still.” He turned his gaze toward Moreau. “Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

Moreau, standing near a console adorned with monitors and flashing indicators, nodded curtly. “Quite right, my lord. Amniocentesis requires absolute stillness for the safety of the fetus. Sedation would ensure compliance, but I would rather proceed without it unless absolutely necessary.”

“Amnio what!?” Aurora knew she was helpless, without her powers she was nothing more than a weak young woman. Her eyes followed Moreau’s every move.

Sinister bent down slightly, his expression one of mock sympathy. “Remember, my dear, this is all for him. For you. For us. Now, do be brave.” He straightened, gesturing for Moreau to proceed.

The doctor approached with practiced efficiency, a long, slender needle in his gloved hands. As he carefully inserted it into Aurora’s abdomen, she winced, but the restraints held her firmly in place. Moreau extracted the sample, which was quickly analyzed by the lab’s advanced equipment. Sinister stood by, his hands clasped behind his back, his smile widening as the results began to appear on the monitor.

“Ah, a vessel of honor!” Sinister declared, his voice swelling with triumph. “Aurora, you are nothing less than a Theotokos, a bearer of salvation. Your son shall—”

Moreau interrupted with a terse cough, his eyes glued to the screen. “My lord, there’s… an issue.”

Sinister’s smile faltered, replaced by a sharp glare. “An issue?” he repeated, his tone icy.

Moreau swallowed hard and adjusted his glasses. “The child’s genome contains the necessary genetic markers, but the epigenetic regulation—the on-and-off switches controlling the expression of those genes—has not resulted in the anticipated patterns. The regulatory elements haven’t activated in the required configuration. The child could potentially receive the Phoenix Force, but the incomplete gene expression would lead to catastrophic instability, destroying them both mentally and physically over time.”

For a moment, Sinister stood frozen, his expression unreadable. Then, his fury erupted in a display of raw power. Energy surged from his body, shattering a nearby console and sending tools flying across the room. “Impossible!” he roared. “Her DNA was engineered for this purpose! It was written into the genome!”

Moreau cringed but managed to maintain his composure. "The genetic markers are indeed present," he repeated, "but epigenetic modulation failed to induce the proper expression cascade. This deviation was beyond our capacity to predict or control."

Sinister’s hands curled into fists as he trembled with rage. For several moments, he seemed poised to unleash his wrath on everything and everyone in the room. Then, abruptly, he exhaled, his composure returning with a chilling calmness.

“Waste not, want not,” he murmured, his tone eerily serene. “The child may yet serve. We shall induce premature labor and send him to Limbo, where the next generation can be accelerated. Broodstock, as you well know, is not so easily replaced.”

"My lord, may I suggest a Cesarean?" Moreau inquired. "I do have obligations outside of this lab."

"Yes, yes, your duties as petty king," Sinister said with a sneer. "Make it so, Doctor."

Moreau nodded swiftly, already moving to prepare the necessary equipment. A lesser man might have winced, but Moreau was a man beyond remorse, beyond good and evil. This was merely another procedure among many on the list this day.

"This procedure will be over soon,” Moreau said, his tone clinical yet detached. "You will feel a slight pressure."

A mechanical arm descended from the ceiling, holding a syringe filled with a local anesthetic. The device injected the anesthetic near Aurora’s abdomen, and a cool numbness began to spread. Her body remained restrained, her telepathy and telekinesis still neutralized by the devices Sinister had placed on her temples.

“You can’t do this!!” Aurora struggled as much as she could against the restraints but with her body numb she wouldn’t have been able to get far anyway. “It’s not time! He’s not ready to be born yet!!” She looked towards Sinister. “You said he’d be safe!!” She glared at Moreau. “You hurt my son and I’ll kill you!!”

Sinister turned toward Aurora with deliberate precision, his crimson eyes gleaming like twin infernos. A slow, sardonic smile spread across his face as he regarded her futile struggle against the restraints. His voice, when it came, was a velvety baritone laced with venomous disdain.

"Dare you think yourself to be in any position to command me? Have you forgotten what you are? You are not my equal. You are my creation, my vessel, my whelping bitch designed to breed my dogs of war. You speak of your son as though he belongs to you. He belongs to me, as do you. Every strand of your DNA, every breath you draw, all of it is mine by design. You are my creation, forged in the crucible of my genius, and you will fulfill your purpose.”

He stepped closer, his silhouette cast long and foreboding in the sterile light of the laboratory. “This ‘son’ you hold so dear, it is no more yours than the stars belong to the night sky. It was crafted—like you—to serve a singular purpose. And though it has failed to meet the expectations of its station as a viable host, it remains useful. Yes, my spawn, even broken tools can serve.”

He turned to Moreau with an imperious wave of his hand. “Proceed, Doctor. Let us extract this… disappointment, and assess its worth as breeding stock. Should its progeny prove more suitable, we will at least salvage some use from this debacle.”

Aurora’s anguished protests filled the room as Moreau worked with methodical haste, his surgical instruments glinting coldly under the bright lights. Despite her cries, she could not fight the effects of the anesthetics or the mechanical restraints that held her in place. The baby’s first wail echoed like a fragile protest against the monstrous tableau unfolding in the lab.

Sinister’s expression twisted into something unreadable as he observed the child. Where there had been hope for a divine vessel, there was now only ruthless calculation. He gestured for Moreau to clean and swaddle the newborn, his voice as cold and clinical as the instruments.

“Give it to her,” Sinister commanded. “A mother’s warmth will keep it alive until it is needed again. It is no longer the salvation I sought, but it may yet sire the key to unlocking eternity.”

Moreau had summoned medical technicians into the room. Once he cut the umbilical cord, he handed the baby over to them and began to clean himself up.

"I believe that concludes our business," Moreau said from the handwashing sink.

"Yes," Sinister said as he watched the nurses clean up the newborn charge. "Begone."

There wasn't even a side glance from Moreau as a medical assistant passed the swaddled infant into Aurora’s trembling arms. He took his leave without hesitation.

Sinister’s towering form loomed over her, his smile a wicked parody of paternal pride. "Cherish this moment, Aurora," he intoned, his voice low and resonant. "For though you suckle the child, its future belongs to me."

Aurora wiped away emotional tears as she cradled her son. Looking into his tiny eyes, “You have your father’s eyes...” She gently held him close for now it was all she could do. Her powers were cut off, her body still numb. “You...said Phoenix Force? What is that?” She looked towards Sinister, knowing now that he didn’t care for her at all. “You said you created me? So I could breed you a child for this...Phoenix Force?” She frowned. “If you did all that why didn’t you just make me it’s host? Or was I a failure too?”

Sinister’s crimson eyes glinted with a cold, predatory light as Aurora’s words hung in the air. His lips curled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it—only cruelty. He took a step closer, his polished boots clicking against the floor as he loomed over her.

“Failure, my dear Aurora?” His tone was syrupy, mocking, as though her question amused him. “Oh, you flatter yourself far too much. Failure implies an attempt worth the effort. No, you are worse than a failure—you are genetic pollution. A waste product.” He crouched slightly, his alabaster face inches from hers, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, like a serpent hissing its secrets.

“Your mother, on the other hand, was a masterpiece—a project of genetic rescue. A perfect clone of Lady Jessica Grey, enhanced with my own superior transhuman DNA. She was meant to carry my vision forward. But alas...” He straightened, his cape billowing slightly as he gestured expansively. “She fled. Ran like a thief in the night, abandoning her purpose, and you, her offspring, were the byproduct of that betrayal.”

Aurora’s grip on her son tightened as Sinister began to pace, his tone taking on a cutting edge. “Did you ever stop to question your memories?" Sinister glowered at her in wonder of her naiveté. "To wonder why they seemed to fade and distort the harder you clung to them? They were a fabrication, a tapestry woven from lies. There is nothing in your mind which I have not placed there. Your life before the sewers was a story I wrote, one meant to draw the attention of Charles Xavier. But when the Professor took too long to ‘discover’ you, I expedited matters by placing you in Department H’s capable hands. A controlled environment, you see. And that captivity alongside Robert Drake? That wasn’t chance; it was insurance. Ensuring you would integrate into Scott Summers’ inner circle.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face her fully, his eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Did you never consider how… convenient it was that Scott Summers could not resist you? That every tilt of your head, every flash of your crooked smile, every faint, lingering note of your pheromones struck chords in his very soul? Do you honestly believe such chemistry was... natural?” He chuckled in a harsh staccato, a sound devoid of mirth. “No, Aurora. You were the perfect predator, custom-built to draw him into your web. Scott Summers fell not to brainwashing, but to his own desires—a snare of the purest kind, one created by your very existence and activated by his own hand.”

Aurora’s tears of defiance began to flow again, but Sinister seemed only invigorated by her pain. “So, yes, you are a failure as a wasted specimen with no intrinsic value of your own. But you have served one purpose..." Sinister leered in arrogant pride. "You were the ideal bait for the elusive breeder, Scott Summers. And perhaps,” he mused, his smile sharpening into a knife’s edge, “your next iteration will be more successful. After all, separating Scott from Jean again is merely a matter of time and willpower. And I have all the time and unlimited willpower.”

Aurora looked at Sinister wiping away her tears. There was something about seeing Jean separated from Scott that she liked, but the part of her that felt for Scott knew it would cause him more pain than she’d already caused. “I’ll do anything... if you spare my son. He’s all I’ve got. If its more children you want then I’ll find someone more compatible, just... please!” She cradled Christopher holding him protectively.

"Your tears are as meaningless as your pleas," Sinister said with disdain. "Do you imagine that I am swayed by sentiment? Your offspring's fate is not yours to decide, and neither, for that matter, is your own. I have made my decision, and your begging is little more than noise to me." He gestured dismissively, as though brushing aside her emotions like an inconvenient speck of dust.

He stepped closer, towering over her as his long coat billowed behind him. "Were I to deem this child unfit for my designs, it would be disposed of without hesitation. Perhaps I might have paired you with the other Summers brother instead—imagine the potential of such an experiment! But alas," he smirked, his sharp teeth glinting faintly, "your offspring, though currently little more than excrement, retains utility. He will be sent to Limbo, where time will bend to my will. There, its years will be accelerated, and when he returns, he may yet serve a greater purpose."

Sinister paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing. "Of course, whether you will still be of use by then remains to be seen. Limbo is... unkind to the unprepared, and your chances of survival are slim as you are. Fortunately for you, I am not entirely without mercy." His grin widened into a predatory leer.

With a flourish, he reached for the twin devices embedded in her temples. As he removed them, a surge of raw energy coursed through Aurora’s body. She gasped as the sensation tore through her, igniting every nerve, and she felt the surgical wound in her abdomen knitting itself shut. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a tingling warmth. She touched her stomach instinctively, feeling the newly formed scar beneath her trembling fingers.

"The process is complete," Sinister declared with satisfaction, his voice resuming its cold, clinical detachment. "You may find yourself... invigorated. You’ll need every ounce of strength to endure Limbo. And when you return—if you return—I will decide whether your child-bearing capability remains and whether your existence retains value."

Aurora was indeed invigorated, her body lighting up with flame whilst a telekinetic bubble protected her son from the heat. The flame turned a brilliant shade of blue, before she focussed on control and the flames faded away again. She looked to Sinister. “I will return, that I promise you.”

Sinister observed Aurora's newfound vigor with a derisive smirk, his crimson eyes gleaming like embers of malice. The sight of her flames, their intensity and the bubble of protection shielding her child, seemed to amuse rather than impress him. His polished demeanor remained unshaken, the predator indulging a momentary flicker of prey's defiance.

"Such dramatics," he said, his voice silky with disdain. "I’d advise tempering your enthusiasm. Promises from you mean less than nothing to me. What matters is whether you are capable of delivering on them." His tone sharpened, a blade cutting through his mockery. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into a hiss. “Do not mistake my leniency for favor, girl. If you fail to return, it changes nothing. Your son will still serve my greater designs. All you’ll have proven is that you were as irrelevant in the end as you were in the beginning."

With that, he opened another portal at the end of the room while Aurora's restraints recoiled out of sight, leaving her entirely free. "Get up, girl, and bring your spawn with you. Fate lingers for no one."

Aurora had little choice but to obey, her blue flames receding as she stood up. The protective shield surrounding her son rippled with power as all her defences turned to protecting Christopher. She moved to join Sinister right now there was nothing else she could do.

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