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“Old Places and New Horizons” Part Two
The Mansion (A Few Days After Gambit’s Arrival)
Doctor Nemesis waited at the gates of the Xavier Mansion to be greeted by Professor Charles Xavier and his paramour, Emma Frost. While waiting for them to open the gate, he realized he had stepped on a piece of gum. Lifting up his well-polished shoe to observe the gum, Nemesis said, “Yuck.”
Charles smiled from afar at Doctor Nemesis’ facial expression. When he and Emma got close, he said, “I apologize for that, Dr. Bradley. I’ll be sure to have that cleaned up.”
“A bit late considering that’s it’s already on the bottom of my shoe,” Doctor Nemesis said as he was led across the mansion grounds by the two. It was a beautiful place and one could easily get lost in that beauty if they didn’t realize just how much catastrophe had befallen it. “So let’s just cut to the chase here Xavier...why did you ask me to come here?”
“Charles and myself–"
Nemesis held up a hand to stop Emma. “Look, I know the two of you are telepaths. I give you permission to dump whatever information you need to into my cranium. I have a feeling it’d be faster that way.”
Emma narrowed her ryes at the man. “Certainly. And, while I’m at it, I might drop in a few pointers on manners.”
“Emma, please,” Charles said. “We’ll provide you with all the necessary information, Dr. Bradley.”
The three of them stopped moving and Charles opened up a psychic link with Doctor Nemesis. Dumping all the necessary information in the World War II scientist’s head only took a minute. When the connection was closed, Doctor Nemesis laughed. “So you want me to help be savior to a bunch of ratty criminals?”
Xavier considered him for a moment and Doctor Nemesis cold feel the man taking his measure. Looking at Xavier’s genetic structure, he realized the man had to be a monument of patience. His powers were immense and it would take only a moment of anger to maul someone’s mind to little pieces. Doctor Nemesis took note of that, knowing no man could be that patient forever. He would rather not be the person that was on the blunt end of that inevitable moment.
“Were you not once called Doctor Death?” Xavier asked, not giving Nemesis a chance to respond. "You worked for the Nazis and were able to repent of your crimes. Do these individuals not deserve the same opportunity?”
“You want me on this team then I need something done for me,” Doctor Nemesis said. He took Emma and Charles’ silence as a cue that they were listening. “I had a device stolen from me and I believe you may be able to help me track down who stole it from me.”
“Who?” Emma asked, half dreading the drama that was bound to unfold from the answer.
“A creature hat wallows in darkness and one of the underworld’s more famous geneticists. I believe you know him by the name of Sugar Man.”
Emma almost let out a sigh of relief, but she quickly contained it. She thought the man was about to say Dark Beast and that would put this new team dangerously close to encountering her X-Force team. “What exactly did that ugly, crass creature steal from you?”
“I call it a dimension smasher.”
Agua Buena, Panama
“Stay still you little punk!” Juggernaut said, smashing a fist into the dirt road that he and his opponent were coming to blows on. Cain called the man little, but in truth he was anything but. For any average man, he would have been a about a good head and a half taller. Despite that height, Juggernaut hadn’t been able to land a single blow on the man yet. He was moving too fast for him to land a good hit. Cain was sure that was all it would take, just one good hit to send the Wolverine wannabe crashing through the nearest hut in this shanty town.
With that thought, he could almost swear he heard Charlie in the back of his head reminding him about harming civilians. Years ago, Juggernaut would have told his step-brother where to stick all that do-gooder rhetoric, but times had changed. Cain realized after all these years that he had become just like his abusive father. He had spent so much time blaming everyone around him for the failings in his life because he never had the courage to try and change them. Now Charles was giving him the chance to emerge out of his father’s dark shadow and it honestly felt good.
“You really oughta try harder, Juggernaut," Cyber said as he leapt into the air and over Juggernaut’s back. He landed in the dirt with a loud thud that kicked up rocks and soil. Despite the haze his impact created, the man’s adamantium arms still glistening in the sunlight. He looked back at Juggernaut with a cocky smile. “I’m not going to be that easy to take down. Or are you going to just let me cruise through this?”
Juggernaut cracked his knuckles and popped his back. “It’s time for me to shut that loud trap of yours!” Moving quicker than Cyber expected, Juggernaut slammed both of his fists into the ground. The ground quaked violently under Cyber and his footing was thrown off for a few precious seconds. Cain used those second to charge forward and punch Cyber square in the chest. Juggernaut heard the pleasurable sound of bones cracking as Cyber zoomed through the air and landed in a yard full of chickens.
“HA! Told ya I’d put ya in your place.” Juggernaut stomped forward, grabbed Cyber by his wrist and slung him into the ground repeatedly like a rag doll. When there was sufficient amount of blood in the dirt, Juggernaut tossed the man up into the air like a baseball. He wanted until Cyber was almost at eye level and punched him the chest again. Cyber flew into another yard, his bones broken in a dozen different places and his legs twisted in awkward dangles.
Dusting his hands together, Juggernaut said, "Punks always think they can mess with this. I don’t get called unstoppable just for show.”
Taking off his helmet, Juggernaut tapped the headset in his ear. “This is Cain. My target’s down. Anyone need back up?”
“Don’t count me out yet.”
Cain turned around and saw Cyber rising to his feet, wounds healing as fast as the runt’s. Putting his helmet back on, Juggernaut pounded his fists together again. “Looks like I get to deliver another epic ass kicking.”
The Vault (Three Weeks Ago)
“We’re lucky our relations are good with Colonel Reyes or I have a feeling we would never have worked our way in here. Especially to see him,” Warren said as he wheeled Charles Xavier down to the elevator where they were going to see an old foe. “I can imagine the tirade Sigrid is going to go on once she finds out what we’ve done.”
“I’m sure she will, but her candidly hateful views on mutants are not our concern.”
Charles had wanted Emma or Gambit to come with him, but their records prevented them from having entrance. It wasn’t that he saw Warren as unsuitable company, but he wasn’t symbolic of the message he was trying to send. Emma and Gambit had both had dark pasts and learned to overcome them. For instance, Emma’s business savvy had her nominated for numerous awards in her home country of England. Certain factions wee even trying to urge her to run for office. Gambit was trying to turn an organization that thrived off night and shadows away from their wanton criminal intent and into something more useful. Either one of them would have sent the message he was hoping to convey.
As Warren pressed the elevator button to take them down, he asked, “Do you think he’s even going to listen to us?”
“I know his history, I know what he’s done, but I can’t help but to give him this opportunity. He had very little chance to become anything else, not with the kind of father he had.”
Warren was never very good at trying to mask his dislike for someone. “You’ve always made excuses for him, Professor, almost more than you ever had for any of us. What makes him so worthy?”
“You have to understand, Warren, Cain is the closest thing I have to blood family left. I can’t give up on him. My mother, though sick, saw some good in him. I won’t say my mother was wrong, Warren.”
The elevator came to a stop at the bottom level of the superhuman prison. Almost twenty Guardsmen were waiting for them the minute they door slid open. Charles nodded to each one of them respectfully. At the head of the contingent of guards was Colonel Miguel Reyes, head of the CSA and older brother to Dr. Cecelia Reyes. “Hello, Professor. We’ll have to ask Mr. Worthington to stay here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I am sure Warren trusts your ability to take care of me.”
Archangel nodded gruffly. “If not, I’ll be having words with all of you.”
Colonel Reyes took over the spot that Warren had previously held. Charles honestly didn’t mind have to be pushed, but he would have preferred his hoverchair. To put the men of this facility at ease, however, he had chose to leave it behind. “Colonel Reyes, I can’t thank you enough again for allowing me this opportunity.”
The CSA Director laughed. “You have no idea how much money it takes every day to keep the Juggernaut contained. If you can get him on the straight and narrow you’ll be saving the American taxpayer a lot of dollars.”
Charles smiled. “Then let us hope he listens.”
Agua Buena, Panama
Something about the Witcher’s eyes stuck Fantomex as demonic. They were sharp, narrow and an icy blue, the kind of blue you imagined Judas was trapped in at the bottom of the underworld. At least if you believed Dante’s recounting of events. Fantomex understood enough about the larger universe around him to grasp that there were a number of demonic dimensions and just as many approaching paradise. But that was really neither here nor there in the current circumstances. Right now he was trying to avoid the very large sword that the Witcher was using with incredible ease. Fantomex had to admit that he was impressed.
Dodging a blow that might have taken off his head, Fantomex flipped back with boyish bravado. “Do you have a license for that, my friend?”
The Witcher responded to his question with a deep set scowl. Fantomex figured that he was use to scowling as his normal response to verbal communication. The man had all the markings of someone who spent twenty-three hours out of a day fighting. Of course, Fantomex realized, that all depended on if the man came from a dimension with a twenty-four hour day. That was still a question up for debate since the man refused to talk to Fantomex at all. He figured that the majority of the Witcher’s talking, or lack thereof, came at the point of his very shiny blade.
“You know what?” Fantomex put his gun in its holster and pulled out a tiny rod from inside his jacket that expanded into sword. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good sword fight.”
To go along with the blade, he Witcher had on what looked like very dense gray and black armor equipped with the pointy shoulder pads and bulky knee ones. His bare arms were marked with a few runic black tattoos, and a quick glance at them gave Fantomex the impression they were of Viking origin, but given alternate dimension it was impossible to really say for certain. For all Fantomex knew they could be etching from a race of pink teddy bears. Unlikely, but you never knew when taking the Omniverse into account. More likely though was this man was some kind of hunter.
Stepping back from the long, gray-haired man, Fantomex said, “So what exactly do you hunt? Don’t try and lie, I can see it in your eyes, my friend. A killer knows a killer.”
A fireball formed in the Witcher’s free hand and he flung it at Fantomex without responding to him. Fantomex easily flipped to the side and avoided the attack. It was too easy a dodge and Fantomex knew it. “Is that you way of telling me to shut up? I really do prefer conversation when engaging in combat. It spices things up.”
Finally, The Witcher smirked and gave hint of perfectly white teeth. “Maybe so, but I have a feeling that a cotnversation with you would never end.”
Fantomex mused that thought for a moment. “Perhaps not.” And then he charged.
Paris, France (Three Weeks Ago)
Fantomex didn’t need to sleep, but if he did he imagined that he would be groggy having to meet someone this early in the morning. And he most certainly would have objected to meeting with someone in the city’s largest Albanian neighborhood. The place was full of unsavory characters who participated in all sorts of unscrupulous trades...fake passports, human trafficking, robbery, extortion and the list of crimes went on. Of course, Fantomex was Fantomex and thus could not judge them for what they chose to partake in. He had participated in just as many seedy affairs himself. People did what they had to in order to survive.
“So, E.V.A., what do you think are the odds of us going to prison today? I know it’s the middle of the morning, but I can start naming some saintly folks who might try,”Fantomex said to his external nervous system. E.V.A. substituted for his nerves and pain receptors. It was a living, bio-mechanical organism that served as one part of his body’s necessary functions, but in the unlikelihood something was to happen to him, E.V.A. could go on living as an independent entity. It was quite the fortuitous symbiotic relationship; she made it so that he rarely grasped the concept of pain and he kept her entertained with some of the world’ best conversation.
I do not think you have to worry about any attempt at capture. The X-Men are people of ideals.
“Oh, it’s not the X-Men that I doubt, my dear, but who knows? This could very easily be some heavily planned set-up. I’m just glad I made sure to load up all the guns today,” Fantomex said, patting the side of his jacket.
“You won’t need any of those today, mon ami,” Gambit said, stepping out of the shadows with Domino at his side.
Fantomex looked Gambit up and down and smiled behind his face mask. “Trendy little jacket you have there. Good to know you at least have taste.”
Domino laughed. “Oh yes, this is definitely Fantomex. I can smell the vanity like bad cologne.”
“My every waking moment spent perfecting myself. If vanity happens to come along with that, then so be. E.V.A. never complains.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t. Dis girl here just poking a lil fun at ya,” Gambit said.
“So to what do I owe this summons? You have to realize that it struck me as quite random. The X-Men have never shown much interest in me before.”
“Trust me, mon ami, when I say dere ain’t a mutant alive the X-Men aren’t interested in. It’s what we do.”
Fantomex held up a finger in the air. “Yes, but timing is everything. So I’ll give you the opportunity to lead this conversation. Why now?”
All probable possibilities for the summons had run through Fantomex’s multiple brains before Gambit was even able to speak. He deduced which one was the most likely, but he figured it would be rude to interrupt. “Charles Xavier is forming a new team of X-Men and he wants you to be a part of it.”
“And I take it that means your idol is fully aware of what I am and what I do?”
Gambit nodded. “Xavier’s a good man, but he’s not my idol. He just made me into de man I always wanted to be and he tinks he can do de same for you.”
Agua Buena, Panama
Doctor Nemesis fired off his guns at the charging Sugar Man, the hypodermic needles striking the geneticist’s leather flesh. Sugar Man howled as he hacked away the needles with his axes. Nemesis knew that it would take a few minutes for he poisons to work in his system and he really wasn’t sure how they would respond to Sugar Man’s unique physiology anyway.
He ran to the side and avoided Sugar Man’s mad dash. The monstrous mutant was nearly nine feet tall and as thick as a wall. Doctor Nemesis could see that mass control as part of the geneticist’s mutation. Holstering his hypodermic guns, he pulled out an energy rod that hummed and glowed green. “You stole something from me. I’d like it back.”
Sugar Man turned and Doctor Death came to his side. If the two looks were weapons, Doctor Nemesis would be half expecting a nuclear warhead to be dropping on his head. Sugar Man’s long prehensile tongue licked the spots where Nemesis’ needs had stabbed him. “Fat chance of that. Your little device is gonna help me get back exactly what I lost.”
“And what might that be? Your bathtub,” Doctor Nemesis said in a hope to stall. He was trying to work out possible battle strategies I his mind. A few moment s ago, he heard Juggernaut proclaiming victory, but there had been no time to call for his aid. He could only hope chance would send the lummox to him.
Sugar Man started to stomp his feet like a child. “No! I’m going to get my home back. Starting right here!”
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Dark X-Men #3: How did Typhoid Mary and John Wraith find their way into the Dark X-men? Stay tuned next issue to find out. And just how does Sugar Man intend to bring back his home?
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