Pandora's Box
Posted on Thu Feb 6th, 2025 @ 2:40pm by Kurt Wagner & Hayden Davis & Kennedy Kelly & Maeve MacKenna & Desmond Greene
7,985 words; about a 40 minute read
Mission:
Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Genosha
Timeline: December 4th, 1990
The rattle and sway of the train car was the first thing Kurt registered as he drifted into consciousness. His body ached from the rough treatment they had received, and a cold metal collar dug into his throat. The rhythmic clanking of chains filled the air, punctuated by groans, whispers, and the occasional sob.
"Feeding time!" a gruff voice barked from beyond the barred doors.
The reaction was immediate. The huddled masses of mutants around him shifted, their bodies tense with anticipation. Hushed voices murmured a single word over and over again—sugar. It passed from mouth to mouth like a desperate prayer, sending tremors of eerie excitement through the packed space.
Kurt stirred, the heavy weight of iron shackles around his wrists and ankles sending a cold jolt through his system. He blinked against the dim, flickering light, his keen eyes adjusting quickly. Everywhere he looked, mutants sat slumped against the rusted walls, their postures broken and submissive. Many bore signs of previous punishments—bruises, healing burns, old scars. Yet at the mention of "sugar," they twitched and trembled in barely restrained expectation.
His first thought was for the others. He turned his head as much as his restraints allowed, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Kennedy? Maeve? Hayden?"
His tail, bound tightly in a length of chain, twitched against the cold steel of the floor. He strained to see them through the crush of bodies, his golden eyes searching the gloom.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
A young mutant beside him, a wiry boy with patches of chitinous skin along his arms, let out a short, breathless giggle. He rocked slightly where he sat, fingers tapping against his knees.
"You’ll be okay soon," the boy murmured, his voice oddly giddy. His eyes gleamed feverishly. "We all will. Sugar makes everything better."
Across the train car, someone moaned in agreement, a strange mixture of relief and desperation in the sound. Others muttered under their breath, hands reaching toward the barred slot at the door like eager beggars.
The scent of something sweet, thick and cloying, drifted into the car. Kurt’s stomach twisted. Whatever was coming… it wasn’t food.
“Kurt?” Kennedy pathetically croaked the words as she sat up. Her throat hurt underneath the collar she wore as deep purple marks in the shapes of thick fingers were visible around her neck. She collected herself amongst the fog of her splitting headache, Kennedy noticed that her hair had been taken down from the tight braid she usually wore it in for missions and the zipper of her uniform had been pulled down to her sternum. That observation made her stomach churn and she quickly zipped it back up.
As her zipper returned to its high resting place, Kennedy noticed a tag hanging from the front of her collar. Identification fit for a dog, it was yellow in color and the word ‘ENTERTAINMENT’ was stamped into it.
She glanced over at Kurt and his collar also had a tag, it was in the same dreary grey that the uniformed dock workers wore. The word ‘DEFERRED’ was written across it.
In the poor lighting of the train car she found Hayden, her tag was blue with the word ‘HOUSE’ on it.
But the most damning one was the tag that had been given to Maeve. It was an urgent red in color with the word ‘RECONDITION’ scrawled into it and her shackles were bigger and heavier than the rest of the groups.
“Where are we?” Kennedy asked but the words were still horse. She finally noticed the movement of the train and that they were traveling. “Where are they taking us?”
"To the dark..." Maeve mumbled as she sat helplessly on the ground. "I can't feel anything..." she flexed her hands over the particles of dirt in the container. She'd lost her connection with the earth, the vibrations were gone. Tried as she might she could barely lift her hands up, the shackles weighing her down. Why was hers red? A buzzing felt like it filled her head.
"Yeah," Hayden managed, "I'm here." She couldn't sense the ocean or any water for that matter. She couldn't even feel the molecules in the air that formed water. There was nothing. She pushed her hair back out of her face so that she could see a little better. Her shackles and chains clanked on the floor as the train continued. But the collar felt heavier to her than the iron. She felt around her neck and found the tag marked HOUSE, whatever that meant. "I don't know it can get much darker than this," she said, not necessarily meaning the absence of light in the train car.
"Eet is often darkest before ze dawn," Kurt offered optimistically. But he didn't like the look of whatever it was they were distributing.
That rabbit-like scrunch of her nose occurred as she took in the smell of the sugar that was being handed out to the mutants in the car. A square of it was placed in front of her with little regard for her beyond the fact that she was awake and capable of eating.
Kennedy picked up the square and examined it, it was a dingy white in color and slightly sticky to the touch. The mutants that had been taken from the shipping container all ate it eagerly before slipping into a euphoric and serene haze.
“I don’t want to eat this.” Kennedy whispered to the rest of the X-Men. “But I’m scared they’ll punish us if we don’t.”
Maeve looked at this sugar and threw it on the floor in defiance. She would not put that in her body, not by choice. Her eyes unfocused as she tried hard to get her powers to return, the strain on her face evident as something at her feet moved.
Hayden picked up the cube and felt it. It felt just about as nasty as it looked, like dirty dishwater. "Neither do I," she whispered to Kennedy. Then glanced over to Maeve. "We might find out what happens in a second if we don't."
A sudden, sharp hiss cut through the murmur of the train car, followed by a sickly-sweet scent that burned at the nostrils. The air grew thick, oppressive, and then came the coughing—wet, ragged gasps as those who had refused the sugar began to convulse, their bodies wracking with pain.
Through the growing chaos, Kurt forced himself into action. His tail twitched, still bound, but he could move his arms enough. He gritted his teeth against the acrid burn in his throat and tore at his uniform, shredding fabric into strips with sharp, frantic motions.
"Schnell!" he rasped, shoving a cloth into Kennedy's trembling hands before moving to Maeve and Hayden. "Cover your faces!"
Maeve struggled with the heavier shackles on her wrists. However, she managed to move her head a little with the larger neck brace on and somehow wrapped the cloth around the lower half of her face. The pain she felt inside was terrible, it felt like cramps of monumental proportion. For a moment, through teared up eyes, she looked at the sugar on the ground.
Kennedy took the square of cloth and held it to her face but she still coughed and gagged on the gas that flooded the train car. Her throat was already sore and swollen from being choked and the pain of the injury combined with the discomfort created by the gas left her sobbing. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, that she would be smothered and strangled by her body’s reaction to all the trauma building in her airways, it made Kennedy panic as her gasps grew more and more labored.
Looking down at the sugar in her hand, Kennedy succumbed to their request and shoved it into her mouth. It was hard to chew and swallow with her inability to breathe but she managed somehow.
The relief that followed was almost instantaneous and euphoric. The gas no longer gagged her and the pain from her throat evaporated. What followed was a haze of happiness that made her no longer care about the collar or the shackles. Kennedy floated back to her reclined position in the rail car, she was calm and quiet while she settled in and waited for their arrival.
Hayden didn't really want to eat the sugar so she tried to keep the cloth over her nose and mouth as much as possible. That, however, was proving fruitless. Unfortunately for Hayden, she'd waited too long and the coughing was getting worse. She put the nasty cube in her mouth and tried to chew it, but with every cough came bits and pieces flying. Swallowing was just as difficult, but she managed to get most of it down. Until a final cough sent a small chunk onto the floor.
The coughing became easier and she laid down on the floor. "Whoaaaa."
The train screeched to a violent halt, metal grinding against metal in an ear-splitting shriek. Before anyone could fully process what was happening, the doors were thrown open with mechanical efficiency, the cold night air rushing in to replace the stagnant, chemical-laden atmosphere of the rail car.
"Out!" barked a Magistrate, his voice amplified by a modulator. "Move, muties! Now!"
Armed guards swarmed the entrance, yanking captives to their feet and shoving them forward like livestock. Those still reeling from the gas, coughing and wheezing, were roughly separated from those who stood pliant and compliant—divided with brutal efficiency.
Kennedy was among the latter. Her movements were loose, relaxed, her expression one of detached serenity. The Sugar dulled her awareness, muffling the terror of their situation into a distant, insignificant hum. She didn’t resist as she was pulled from the train, her limbs moving with an eerie weightlessness.
Not so for the others.
Those who had refused the Suga, such as Kurt, were lined up immediately. The guards moved quickly, brandishing hypodermic injectors filled with a thick, amber-colored fluid.
"Compliance is not optional," one of them announced before driving a needle straight into a struggling mutant’s arm. The poor soul seized for a moment, then sagged, his face going slack with euphoric surrender.
Kurt bared his teeth, twisting in the grip of two guards as they wrestled to hold him still. "Nein! In ze name of God, let me g—" His protest was cut off as a needle was jammed into his bicep, and the burning sensation spread instantly through his veins. He gasped, his struggles weakening, his mind fogging.
The struggle of those that hadn't taken the sugar was getting less and less as some of her teammates succumbed to the need to comply. Maeve still refused but it was becoming harder to see let alone breathe. She watched Kurt get a needle stuck in his arm before a large man of similar build came at her. She flinched as he grabbed her arm and attempted to stick the needle in. Her suit bent the needle and he grunted. Maeve smirked a little, a small win. "You think that will make any difference. Compliance is not optional." they repeated. A larger needle came from behind him and he pierced her neck as she screamed under the rag that attempted to cover her mouth. The amber liquid began to course through her body and she felt her need to fight lessen.
Overhead, speakers crackled to life, spewing out droning, automated propaganda in a sterile, almost cheerful tone:
"Mutant compliance ensures mutant safety. The future is built on order. Accept your place, and thrive."
"Loyalty is rewarded. Resistance is corrected."
"Freedom is an illusion. Happiness is service."
With their fates seemingly decided, the captives were divided by the tags around their necks. A Magistrate, clad in sleek black armor, strode forward, holding a clipboard with a list of designations.
"Separate them by assignment," he commanded. "Entertainment, House, and Labor to the main processing area. Recondition to solitary."
Maeve's dazed mind barely registered what was happening before she was violently pulled away from the others. The momentary euphoria of the Sugar did nothing to soften the reality of the hands dragging her toward a reinforced metal structure—the hot box. A suffocatingly small, sun-baked isolation cell barely large enough for her to sit upright. The heavy doors slammed shut behind her, sealing her inside absolute darkness.
It was dark, dusty, and hot. The smell wasn't much better either but Maeve was trapped. The sugar only dulled her senses but tears began to roll down her cheeks as she sat in the darkness of the box. "LET ME OUT!" she screamed as she tried to bang her fists off the interior, managing a few good hits but her shackles were heavy. They felt heavier now that this drug was in her system. "PLEEEEAAAAAASE!" she shouted before mumbling, "I can't be in here...", her breath began to quicken once more.
Kurt, his tag reading ‘DEFERRED' was shoved toward a massive transport vehicle which appeared to be little more than an over-sized horse trailer retrofitted with crude metal benches and iron bars. Other mutants with unsightly or extreme mutations were already crammed inside. They didn't speak. Some were barely conscious.
Hayden and Kennedy, marked for ‘HOUSE’ and ‘ENTERTAINMENT’ respectively, were steered at gunpoint toward a large, windowless building. A row of shower stalls lined the far wall, steam rising from the pipes overhead.
"Cleanse the body, cleanse the mind," the loudspeakers cooed as the doors closed behind them.
"Cleanse the body," echoed Hayden, with a dreamy sound to her voice. She entered one of the stalls, though she didn't really remember how, and began to disrobe. "Gotta wash it all off," she mumbled.
The world was a suggestive haze as Kennedy moved with the herd of mutants towards the showers. When Mastermind had controlled her mind it had felt like she was trapped in a cage inside her own body, her free will replaced with easy agreeable reactions. But while high on sugar, she simply did not care. Impressionable and carefree it was more like walking through a fog than observing her own demise.
She did as she was told and undressed with the rest of the mutants that moved through the shower house. The water was cold and uncomfortable but Kennedy abided like the rest of them, scrubbing her skin until it turned pink.
As Maeve screamed and pleaded from her prison. A soft, familiar voice tried to whisper to her from the box on her left.
“Maeve? Is that you?” There was a soft sound that was almost a laugh and she recognized the voice of Tandy coming from the hot box. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? How on earth did you end up here?”
Maeve quietened down and her ears perked up. Her pleas for freedom slowly dwindled and in the darkness she searched for the voice she'd heard, or light to boost her spirits. The sugar had dulled her senses a little, made her slightly more compliant, but the panic of her situation felt more like pure fear as it had been something she'd experienced before. Although, never a hot box.
"A sight for sore eyes..." Maeve said confused at the tone she was being spoken to. "Tandy?" she recognised the tone voice now through the fog. "Why are you in a box? Are you okay?" she asked with a quiver in her voice.
“Why am I in a box? Cause I don’t know when to quit.” Tandy was spunky and bubbly but she was also a member of the Fallen Angels, a gang who defended their territory from rival gangs but also the NYC police. So, it was no surprise that she might get in trouble with an oppressive authority figure. “I’m mostly okay, these bastards can be really rough and mean when they want to be but I’ve taken a few licks over the years.”
Tandy paused as a Magistrate guard approached and walked past their boxes. The silence he heard while he patrolled was ideal and he thought nothing more of the mutants locked inside.
“Rumor has it that things are about to get real crazy around here… maybe today… maybe tomorrow.” Tandy spoke in an even softer whisper for fear that someone else might hear. “But when things happen, force yourself to move, force yourself to fight. I’ll look for you and we can run together but if I can’t find you, head east and you’ll want to talk to Victor. Don’t be afraid to tell him you’re an X-Men, he’ll help you.”
The crunching underfoot of an approaching Magistrate also caused Maeve's hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. There was a catch at the back of her throat and she felt like everything was going to harm her in some way. It was an odd sensations being hyper vigilant whilst under the influence of whatever drug they'd injected into her.
Listening to Tandy, her words precise and almost excited in tone. "I always fight, I don't like bullies." Maeve commented quietly. "I've learned a few moves with the X-men but I don't have my abilities, and they put heavier shackles on me. I do'nt know how quickly I can move but you can bet I'll take a bite out of someone before I left them take me or my friends down."
Hayden and Kennedy were dressed in jumpsuits that matched the color of their assignment tag before they were instructed to line up outside in a neat and orderly fashion. A pair of Magistrates soon appeared, one with a clipboard and the other with a critical eye. They walked down the line of mutants, examining and documenting them.
“Number 5-8-2” The female magistrate said while looking over Hayden. “Step forward and open your mouth for me.”
After her little song in the showers, Hayden had kept quiet. But it wasn't so much out of fear as it was the sugar and gas had finally fully affected her. The surrender to it had brought release to her mind and body. She took a deep breath, her mind as calm and cloudy as it could be. Knowing what was best, she complied and stepped forward, opening her mouth. Number 5-8-2, that's who she was now. Just a number.
The first Magistrate tisked at the sight of Hayden, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment. "Shame," he muttered, glancing at the other guard. "Saw this one in the showers. Unfortunate her mutation wasn't something useful, like symmetrical tits."
The other guard let out a sharp laugh, but the Magistrate had already lost interest. He scanned the barcode on Hayden's 'HOUSE' tag, and the reader blinked to life with a brief report: Elemental.
"Eh, doesn't need to be perfect," he shrugged, stepping past her without another glance. "She's got her purpose."
Then they reached Kennedy.
The first Magistrate let out a low whistle as he eyed her up and down, lingering on her tall, lean frame. "Now this one’s more my style," he mused, tapping his scanner against his palm.
The second guard snorted. "You sure her ass ain't missing? She's built like a scarecrow."
The first Magistrate smirked. "I like 'em lithe." He grabbed Kennedy’s chin between his gloved fingers, tilting her face to examine her more closely. "And she's tagged for ENTERTAINMENT, so she's either meant for the camera, or somewhere a camera doesn't belong." He let her go with a slight push, shaking his head with amusement. "Either way, just what the Doctor ordered."
The scanner beeped as he passed it over Kennedy's barcode, which coded her ability as generating energy.
"Real live-wire," the second guard chuckled.
The first Magistrate laughed too, giving her another once-over before marking something down on his clipboard. "Yeah. Let's hope she knows how to put on a show."
Hayden stood there as she was examined and talked about. Very little of it concerned her at the moment as she was still reveling internally in the euphoria that had overtaken her. When they finished with her, she stepped back in line next to Kennedy. What awaited her at the 'house' was unknown...heh, what awaited any of them was unknown no matter where they went.
Kennedy’s eyes narrowed in a brief glimmer of contempt, her tongue felt too heavy and slow to form words but she slowly processed the conversation with disgust. This drug was intense and turned them into the walking dead. She only hoped the effects wouldn’t last forever, the idea of being sent to a location where she was hopelessly required to perform felt like a waking nightmare.
Kurt landed hard inside the transport, his body bouncing off the cold metal floor as the doors slammed shut behind him. The trailer lurched forward almost immediately, the movement jostling the other unfortunate souls crammed inside. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, fear, and something unnatural—like damp earth left to rot.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the slatted vents, Kurt became aware of the figure slumped across from him. The mutant was broad-shouldered, his form unmistakably human in shape but composed entirely of wood-like material.
Though he had met mutants of every shape and size, Kurt could tell something about this one was deeply wrong. The tree-man trembled, his entire frame creaking softly with each shuddering breath. His amber resin eyes flickered in the low light, glassy and unfocused. The thick mutant control collar around his neck hummed faintly, suppressing his abilities, forcing his body into a state it was never meant to endure.
Kurt ignored his own discomfort, pushing himself up onto his knees and shuffling closer despite the heavy chains weighing him down. Giving himself the sign of the cross, Kurt murmured, "Miserere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam..."
None of the other... unorthodox mutants so much as looked at each other. Kurt's heart ached in his chest.
"Mein Gott..." Kurt breathed. "Mein freund, are you alright? Shall I call a doctor?"
"No..." The sound of Desmond's voice came from deep in the thick chest. It sounded like branches breaking as the young mutant forced it out. His body had betrayed him for a second time. The first time was when it mutated against his will, turning him into some kind of tree-man. The second time was when they forced that gas into his system, and locked him up with a collar. "Draw attention... gas us... Can't eat sugar..." Desmond's eyes leaked a clear white sap. His body wouldn't move. He could barely see, could barely smell or hear, he was half-way between an actual tree and a man. And God above and the Devil below, it hurt so much.
"I do not know how," Kurt said, "but ve vill find a vay out of zhees." While it wasn't exactly a lie, Kurt had no idea whether it was true. Circumstances looked rather grim. It just broke his heart to see someone suffering so.
"Want... go... home..." The sound of snapping branches and creaking wood that was currently Desmond's voice conveyed a sense of fear and pain that rivaled the darkness of the shadows in the box. "Other... kids... here... Need... help... them..." He finally croaked out too.
The night was shattered by the deafening roar of an approaching aircraft. A Black Hawk helicopter ripped through the air, banking hard as its forward-mounted cannons blasted apart a guard tower. The collapsing structure sent debris cascading into the yard below. At first the Magistrates prepared to open fire, but a 20mm turret cannon from the helicopter ripped through the open terrain and sent them scurrying for cover. Behind the turret was a large Native American man who was shouting an Apache war cry at the fleeting Magistrates.
Smoke canisters tumbled from the craft, bursting open in thick, swirling clouds. But instead of choking gas, the mutants in the yard breathed deep and suddenly felt clarity return. Before the helicopter even landed, a massive 2 meter tall behemoth pounced from 40 feet in air onto a Magistrate who had poked out from behind cover to return fire.
Snarling with fanged teeth, the giant man was swift as a lion. He crushed the Magistrate's helmet and tore away the ballistic armor before turning the guard's own pulse rifle on him. He did the same to four other Magistrates who had the same idea as the first one before smashing the faceplate of another Magistrate with butt stroke from the rifle. Tossing it aside, he darted into the shower area and tossed another smoke canister inside.
For his efforts, he was clipped in the side by a wide shot. If he felt pain, it only fueled his wrath. Snarling in rage once more, he leapt forward and tore the Magistrate's head clear off his body. He took the dead Magistrate's clipboard and flung it at his partner, who clutched at his neck where it embedded itself and sent him out of this life.
"Creed! It's Creed! Retreat!"
Turning towards the other targets, the man called Creed saw they were already fleeing. Covered in blood that was mostly not his and without any immediate adversaries, he looked at Kennedy and Hayden. "Move it! You want outta' here, you run now!"
Hayden nonchalantly watched the events unfold in front of her until she inhaled the gas. In an instant, clarity returned, her mind and body once again under her control. The carnage before her was staggering, but the yelling of the lion-like mutant snapped her into action.
"Come on," she urged Kennedy, her voice steady despite the bloodbath. "Let's make a run for the helicopter."
“Huh?” Kennedy had started staring at the ground now that the Magistrate had finished examining her, so it took her a minute to recognize Hayden’s voice and what was going on around them. The wind shifted and she too inhaled some of the smoke that drifted through the air. It provided some clarity and that hunter’s focus returned to her eyes. “What about Maeve and Kurt?! We can’t just leave them.”
Across the yard, the giant Apache slammed his boot against the comms hardline on the side of administration bunker, ripping it open. He pulled a small, blinking device from his belt and slapped it onto the exposed wires.
"Collars are coming off!" he roared over his shoulder.
A piercing electronic shriek filled the camp as control circuits shorted out in a cascading failure. All at once, the collars around the mutant prisoners' necks clicked open and fell to the ground.
In the hot boxes where Maeve and Tandy were locked up, the soft click around their necks might as well have been a trumpet sounding. Their control collars fell away.
Inside the transport truck, Desmond gasped as his wooden body flared back to life while Kurt looked down to see his collar laying his feet.
"Zhis is our chance!"
When Hayden's collar hit the ground, she felt her connection to the water around her return. She paused just outside the helicopter and turned towards some guards, holding her hand out. Solid spheres of water formed around the heads of several of them and began to pressurize in an attempt to drown them and crush their skulls.
With a click and a thud Maeve watched her collar fall and hit the ground with that satisfying noise of freedom. The gas hadn't reached her so she was still under the influence of the drug but she felt her connection to the earth return. It was dull due to the drug but it was there and she felt her heart swell. As she stumbled out of the hotbox with Tandy her fear turned to anger and the ground began to shake with furious aggression. Her eyes flickered from their rich blue colour to wholly white as her powers fluctuated. She heard whispers of Irish Gaelic as she had done on the bridge but shook her head to try and free herself of their influence.
Using her abilities she used the ground beneath them to free Tandy and herself from their shackles for easier movement, but looking down the line of hot boxes she could see others that were struggling. "I need to help them too." Maeve slurred a little. They had been nowhere near the gas that would clear their heads and bodies of the effects of the drug.
“Hell yes, girl.” Tandy said with an enthusiastic grin, her daggers of light shot forth from her fingertips as she followed Maeve. “I’ll watch your back, give them what they deserve.”
The surge of power coursing through Desmond's body was intoxicating. Far more than anything he had ever felt before. He suddenly felt his arms and legs, his ears brought in all sounds again, and the smell of ionised air and blood filled his nose. Desmond's fingers slid under the heavy collar, and with the merest effort of strength, he broke it off. The lumbering youth came to his feet. His head scraped against the top of the container. With a roar of deeply felt rage, he kicked the door. The metal creaked and bent. A second kick sent it flying. Desmond folded himself out of the transport container, then turned around to extend his hand at the little man with the funny accent.
Kennedy finally returned to full control and awareness as her collar dropped to the ground. They had taken her weapons so she opted for a handful of rocks instead. Slowly making her way towards the helicopter she charged and threw the power loaded rocks at any Magistrate vehicle or building that she encountered, she wanted to level this horrible place to ensure that no one else was ever brought here again.
She jumped at the door when the transport vehicle was kicked out and her eyes went wide when she saw the hulking, bark-covered frame that emerged. But the tree-man seemed to hesitate as he reached into the back of the vehicle looking to help other people out of it. Picking up even more rocks, Kennedy began to hurl them at any Magistrate soldiers that attempted to interfere with the unloading of the vehicle.
Magistrates scrambled to regroup, but the Resistance was already overwhelming them.
Victor vaulted onto a security platform, blood-streaked claws flashing. He lifted a downed guard’s pulse rifle and fired a spray of energy bolts, covering the escapees.
The pilot pulled the Black Hawk off the ground into a lower hover, the side doors wide open.
"Last call!" shouted the Apache as he mounted the turret gun again. "Get your asses on board!"
The mutants surged toward the aircraft, some leaping, some being pulled up by waiting hands. Kurt bamfed back and forth, teleporting others aboard. "Zhere are osthers!" he protested. "Many more! Ve cannot just leave zhem!"
"We retreat!" Victor turned to the remaining X-Men, baring his fangs at Kurt in particular. "You wanna save the rest? Then fight like hell for another day! Enemy reinforcements are already inbound!"
There was a piercing scream. One that would shatter the strongest window, cause the most steadfast person recoil. It was Maeve. She had moved into an area full of magistrates and one had clipped her with a weapon and it had set her off.
The drug in her system and the situation had caused her emotional control to fail. She felt like she felt them all. Being clipped by the weapon let something almost primal out as her eyes turned wholly white much like on the bridge in Washington. Her face looked one of rage, of revenge.
Around her it was as if the world has slowed as she began to levitate off the ground. Everything vibrated at certain frequencies and she given her earth powers she used that to counter gravity and pushed herself upwards. The air around her almost seemed electric, static. She scanned the horizon, many magistrates, many people still imprisoned. No, this would not do. The magistrates would be first. The causers of misery, of pain, of torment.
"Mo sheal." (My turn), Maeve almost growled in Irish Gaelic, her voice dripped with a ferocity she'd never knew was even in her as her hands reached into the ground and from there rose many spear shaped weapons she would fire into her enemy.
Desmond ran to the big helicopter. His arms were filled with five small bovine-faced children. Three of them had bullrings forced into their nose. Red tears ran down his cheek as another pulse blast smashed into his shoulder. He staggered ever so slightly. But he had run while being pushed around before. He had slammed through many a defensive line. Desmond almost threw the children into the helicopter. With arms empty, Desmond turned around, "There are more kids. Let me grab them."
"We can't stay!" Kennedy's voice was filled with pleading panic as she listened to Victor's demands. "If that omega level mutant comes back, none of us stand a chance." The weather mutant had taken them all down with a single shot and despite the scene being chaotic, it seemed likely she would do the same thing here.
Surveying the camp Kennedy looked for the walls and gates that surrounded the facility. Thick rainforest jungle surrounded the camp just past it's walls. They had been taken far away from the buzzing and busy city they had arrived at and dropped off at a rather remote rural location. Picking up a few larger pieces of debris, Kennedy charged them and threw them at several locations across the perimeter. The explosions upon impact created holes in the walls and rendered gates unable to be closed. There were now several points at which the other mutants could escape from, allowing them to run off into the jungle rather than remain trapped in the camp.
"Run!" She shouted to the rest of the liberated mutants before climbing into the helicopter with Creed.
While Tandy moved with Maeve she was not blinded by sugar or the intense rage that Maeve felt so she remained aware of what was happening and how close to recapture they were. "Hey girl. we need to go!" Tandy reached out for Maeve's shoulder, she hoped her touch would knock Maeve out of her frenzy. "If we stay we'll be killed or at least thrown back in another box."
Kennedy was right about the weather mutant, they were as good as gone if she came back. Hayden left off the attacks and climbed into the chopper with the others. What was that saying? Live to fight another day...they had to survive in order to set all this right. She settled herself and hung on for dear life while looking out at the camp they had been kept in. Vile, filthy, wretched place that needed a good cleansing.
Desmond looked at the soldiers approaching the helicopter. He was strong, he was angry, he wanted to cave their skulls in. But as he looked back at the heavily loaded helicopter again, and the face of several very young mutants he knew that blonde girl was right. A very large boulder nearby would have to be Desmond's final act of anger. A boulder half the length of a man, and equally as wide. Desmond grunted as he put his knees under it, and lifted it over his head. A final roar of anger bellowed from between his lips as the boulder flew and smashed straight into three soldiers, pinning them to the ground under it. He then climbed aboard the helicopter.
As the boulder Desmond had threw hit three soldiers Maeve smirked uncharacteristically. "Doirteal." (Sink). echoed across the wind as the three soldiers sank under the weight of the boulder and into the ground. In front of her bullets struck the whirling vortex of tiny stones she had created to protect herself. "Daoine mortals amaideach" (Foolish mortals).
Her eyes flashed even whiter than before as all of a sudden it seemed like the line of soldiers firing at her froze on the spot. Their weapons did not fire, they did not run, in fact they couldn't move at all.
She levitated towards them, all five in a line and landed by the first one. "Aon." (One), Maeve prodded their nose and walked on and as she did so with a scream they rapidly disappeared into the ground. "Beirt" (Two), ticked his chin before the earth swallowed him like candy. "Trí." (Three), Maeve pinched his cheek and gave it a wiggle before slapping it hard. The female soldier looked terrified just before they were gulped down. "Ceathrar." (Four), she gave a kiss on both cheeks and said "Náire." (Shame) before walking by them.
At the last she stopped and stared for a moment, oblivious to the world and chaos around her. Opening her arms wide she embraced the young man, someone who couldn't have been much older than she was. "Tá dearmad déanta agat" (You are forgiven), she said softly as the soldier looked at them with confusion. Suddenly they could move and Maeve levitated off the ground in front of them and the distance between them grew. "Run." she said in a voice that didn't sound all too her own. The soldier ran and Maeve whispered to the wind, "Cúigear." (Five). Instead of being swallowed by the ground that helped their escape earth like spikes shot from the ground, slim, sharp, and deadly. They pierced the body of the soldier, seconds passing before their last breath was let loose.
While Maeve was ragdolling a squad of soldiers, the Black Hawk was up and away. Kurt looked back at Maeve in the distance, then shouted, "She ees still down zhere! Go back!"
Maeve barely had time to register the shifting air pressure before a searing blast of energy struck her square in the chest. The force sent her reeling backward, her body convulsing as pain lanced through every nerve. The ground, once an extension of her will, now felt distant, unresponsive.
She hit the dirt hard, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Through blurred vision, she saw the Magistrates advancing in formation—armor gleaming under the floodlights, their weapons humming with pulsating energy. More of them than she'd realized, moving with cold brutality, undeterred by the destruction she had already wrought.
Another shot struck her side, forcing a strangled cry from her lips. Her limbs turned heavy, her mind sluggish. Whatever they were using wasn't just stunning her—it was dampening her connection to the earth itself.
Then, in a swirl of sulfurous smoke, Kurt bamfed into the fray.
"Nein!" he shouted, his golden eyes blazing as he reappeared behind the nearest Magistrate. With a sharp crack, he twisted the soldier's headgear sideways, obscuring their vision, before dropping low and sweeping their legs out from under them. In the same breath, he teleported again, reappearing in the midst of another cluster, striking with hands, feet, and tail in a blur of movement.
For a moment, hope flickered.
Then came the net.
The air crackled as a Magistrate fired a wide-spread energy net directly into Kurt's path. He barely had time to turn before it hit him mid-bamf, the current surging through his body and cutting off his teleport in a violent snap. He crashed to the ground, spasming, unable to move.
Maeve fought to push herself up, reaching out toward the soil beneath her fingers, but another energy net seized her as well.
Above them, the low whir of drones filled the air. Thick mechanical arms extended from the hovering machines, their clawed grips locking onto their captives. Maeve's world tilted violently as she was lifted into the air, her head lolling to the side just in time to see Kurt being hoisted in the same way, his body limp against the energized netting.
The drones carried them skyward, their captors watching impassively below. As the battlefield shrank beneath them, the raging fight faded into a blur of chaos and flickering lights.
Everything was a blur. Maeve's strength had gone, her connection gone, again. She couldn't think straight, see in front of her as the nets neutralised all attempts to focus on anything, anyone. Internally she prayed to the gods she'd felt powering her mere moments ago, but they were silent. Much like the hope feeling she didn't have.
The Black Hawk veered sharply toward the jungle as Victor barked into his headset, "Take evasive action!"
Nodding his understanding, the pilot did just that. The helicopter tilted in response.
"Proudstar, get on that damned turret"
Over the roar of the rotors, the Apache nodded at Victor and cursed under his breath as he watched the drones hauling Kurt and Maeve off into the dark horizon. "Damn fools," he muttered. "Should’ve gotten in and stayed in."
Victor, gripping the overhead strap for balance, glanced back at the mutants crammed into the helicopter's hold. "They're headed north," he growled. "That means the Flesh Factory. Genegineer's liable pick 'em apart piece by piece." His jaw clenched. "Got someone already on the inside. We'll get them back. But first we gotta' get outta' here and back to HQ."
"We're going to get them, right?" Kennedy hiccupped the words as she allowed herself a moment to feel remorse for Kurt and Maeve's capture.
"Yeah girl, we'll fight like hellcats to get them back." Tandy replied, her own fears for Ty were heard in her voice. He could be anywhere right now but she feared him being at The Flesh Factory the most. It was a place of nightmares from what she had heard around the camp.
The radio crackled with static before a distorted voice cut through. "Unidentified aircraft, you are in restricted airspace. Descend immediately and prepare for escort or be fired upon."
"Ah, hell," the Proudstar sighed, peering out the window. A squadron of attack helicopters was closing in fast, their searchlights cutting through the night like white-hot spears. The lead chopper, an angular, futuristic design unlike anything in the U.S. military, was already angling for a missile lock. He let out a whooping war cry. "Ya-a-a-a-a-a-a!"
"Brace yourselves!" the pilot shouted as the Black Hawk banked hard to the left, narrowly avoiding the first barrage of gunfire.
Victor pulled a rifle from a strongbox. "Anybody who can fire a rifle, make yourself useful," he said to one and all. "Anyone who can fight, fight. Anyone who can shield this bird, do it now! We're not dying in this sky."
The hunter's resolve took over as clear and present danger appeared and Victor call them to take action. Kennedy looked around the helicopter and saw that only firearms were an option. "Show me how to use it!" She openly demanded of anyone present in the helicopter. One of the rebels obliged her request as he briefly explained how to hold and fire then reload the rifle that she had picked up.
Normally Victor wouldn't hand a loaded rifle to a dumb brat who didn't already know how to use it, but this wasn't the time to be picky. He briefly showed her how to tuck the stock into her shoulder, line up the sights, rack the bolt to clear any jams and reload when swapping out magazines. "Knock'em dead, kid."
Kennedy nodded in agreement, guns had never been her preferred weapon but if they wanted to get out of here alive she would have to use one. With a firm grip on the rifle, she used one hand to cradle the stock while the other steadied the foregrip. Kennedy brought the weapon up to her shoulder as her cheek gently rested against the stock. Her breathing began to slow as she aligned the sights with precision and took the squared stance the weapon required. Taking a deep breath, Kennedy exhaled with her finger resting lightly on the trigger. With a slow, deliberate squeeze, the rifle kicked back with a sharp crack, the sound of the shot reverberating in her ear. The bullet hit its target with the same lethal accuracy that her arrows landed with. Reloading the open, Kennedy continued to take shot after shot at the advancing Magistrates.
Water, she needed water. And being in a jungle or rainforest provided plenty of humidity in the air for her to work with. She inhaled sharply, reaching out with her powers, feeling the water particles in the air. She thrust out her hands, pulling every ounce of humidity she could gather into a dense, swirling mist. Within seconds, a thick fog bank formed between them and the attack helicopters' searchlights.
While the small arms fire provided by the mutants certainly helped break up the enemy squadron's attack vector, it was Proudstar on the turret that took them down. One by one, the glowing tracer rounds lit up the enemy cockpits and sent them crashing into the jungle below.
Victor stuck his talons between his fingers and let out a shrieking whistle. "Back to HQ before they send out any more!"
Hayden allowed the fog to eventually dissipate on its own. She fell back into a more secure position inside the aircraft and sat down. Her mind drifted to those that fell behind, Kurt and Maeve. She suspected that they were likely not safe, so there was no reason to hope that they were. She did hope that they would be able to get them back alive.
The Black Hawk cut through the night sky, its rotors slicing the thick, humid air as it veered away from the smoldering wreckage of downed enemy helicopters. Below them the jungle stretched endlessly in every direction, a sea of shadowed canopies broken only by the occasional glimmer of moonlight reflecting off winding rivers. For now, they were free of pursuit, but no one aboard was foolish enough to think they were truly safe.
Inside the cabin, tension remained thick. The mist Hayden had summoned still clung to them in thin wisps, dispersing slowly into the humid night air. It was a small comfort, using the very jungle that Genosha used to hide its industrial slavery as their cover.
After what felt like an eternity, the pilot finally banked the Black Hawk toward a narrow clearing where a waiting vehicle idled in the darkness. The landing was rough, skids kicking up dirt and leaves as the helicopter touched down. Resistance fighters on the ground rushed forward, weapons at the ready, before lowering them upon recognizing their leader, Victor Creed. The helicopter's side doors were already slid open, and Victor was the first to leap out, barking orders to get the wounded tended to and the armements offloaded.
"Move it or lose it!" he snapped, motioning for the others to disembark.
One by one, the survivors climbed down, their steps shaky but determined. A rugged transport truck waited for them, its engine humming softly in the night. The back was lined with makeshift seats, little more than benches bolted to the floor, but it would do. The group climbed in, pressing together for warmth and comfort as the vehicle rumbled to life.
As they sped deeper into the jungle, the canopy above swallowed them whole, thick vines and towering trees blotting out the stars. The Resistance base was still miles away, but for the first time that night, there was no gunfire, no shouting, no alarms. Just the sound of the jungle, alive and waiting. For now, they had escaped. But the fight was far from over.
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