It was a moment of pure weightlessness. The only world that existed was blanketed in black. After a moment of drowsy recognition, her eyes finally shot wide, and she realized she was falling. Her first instinct was to panic, but that wasn’t going to do her any good. No, she was better than that – much more professional.

She had no idea how long she’d been falling. Worse, she had no idea how much further she had left to fall. Even if the situation lent to the contrary, she couldn’t conceivably fall forever. Her fall would have to stop sometime, and that was the moment she feared the most.

Doing her best to defy gravity, she rolled to her stomach and stared into the mouth of the oncoming void. It had no depth, no motion, no beginning, and no end. All that remained was the rush of wind that buffered her body as she plummeted. Stretching her arms wide, she increased her surface area as much as possible, knowing full well that wouldn’t be enough to properly decrease her speed of descent.

A migraine headache strung at the back of her eyes, and her shoulder throbbed from its bullet wound. Both of these made it difficult to concentrate, and she fought against the urge to pass out again. Surrender wasn’t a consideration at this moment. Not this time and not ever. Triggering her mutant abilities, she tugged back on the marionette strings of her own temporal path. A feeling of déjà vu wandered through her mind, but she ignored this, choosing instead to repeat her jaunt over and over again.

It was a trick she’d tried in Switzerland while hunting down Commcast. Unfortunately, that was a different situation entirely. Then, she’d had the luxury of having a definitive landing point. Now, she was dropping blindly and praying to a god she didn’t believe that she didn’t end up a pancake in the center of the Earth.

Before she was given proper time to acclimate to her environment, the world around her changed once more. Vines broke through the deep shadows beneath her and stretched across the wide chasm, twisting and writhing as they wove together. Once more, she was overtaken by surprise and her concentration slipped. Pulling her body tight once again, she rolled into a ball and prepared for the impact that awaited her.

The nest of vines caught her tucked form and gave slightly beneath her. Somehow, they managed without snapping, and Switchback breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting up, she patted down her legs and frowned as she found her guns absent from their holsters. Still, it was a minor setback – one that could be alleviated as soon as she got back to the surface. If she got back to the surface.

As if responding to her thoughts, the next of fines shifted beneath her, wrapping around her body and then thrusting her slowly up the long chasm. Each time a vine would reach the end of its length, she was handed off to another vine, over and over until the light of day finally peered down into the darkness.

A smile creased her lips as sweet thoughts of revenge filled her mind.

The battle had been raging for several minutes, but it had easily seemed like several hours. As he glanced around the battlefield, the boy observed the weariness that had settled into the faces of his teammates. Although they outclassed the enemy, the misbegotten members of the Mutant Underground were severely outnumbered, and force of will wasn’t going to be enough to carry them through this day – not without a miracle.

And then, that miracle came. On the western horizon, the sun dipped low along the crest of the mountains, and for the first time in many days, the young boy felt like he was in his element. Turning sharply to his left, he wrapped a shadowy tendril around one of the mindless villagers and whipped the ensnared man around like he was merely a puppet, clearing the immediate area of aggressors.

Tossing the villager off to the side, Grey Goose eyed those who had backed away and cast a cold grin in their direction. In a taunting voice, he said, “So, you think it’s been pretty ducky here, eh? You think the boss man’s been taking care of you and warding off the evil ones, right? Well, let’s see what it’s like when you get to face the truly dark nature of the human spirit. Just a hint – it’s not a pretty sight.”

Thrusting his arms over his head, he peeled every long shadow from the ground and dispelled them into the dusk air. The wisps of shadow pulsated and writhed in mid-air, taking on new shapes and forms. Finally, a phalanx of silhouette bats dive-bombed the villagers, tears and shredding at their clothes and any exposed skin. Screams erupted from the crowds. The people turned in place and scattered to the alleyways that passed between their bungalow houses, disappearing from sight as small flocks of bats carried on after them.

“Ah didn’t know you had it in you, kiddo,” Rogue said. She was breathing heavily as she came up beside him, and that – if nothing more – was enough to tell them that victory at this stage in the game was much needed. They needed a rest. Catching her breath, she patted him on the shoulder, she asked, “You doing okay?”

Grey Goose nodded. “I’m holding together alright. I’m more worried about my teammates than myself. They’ve been through this hell a lot longer than me, and I’d just assume make sure they’re good to go before the residents decide to look past their fear of the dark.”

The southern belle gave a brief nod in return and motioned everyone to gather close together. Zero Down emerged from a side cabin with the child pressed tight against one shoulder, meeting Gambit, Discord, and Grey Goose at the center of the makeshift town square. For the moment, the floor was Rogue’s, and he listened intently.

Bending low to one knee, she lowered one gloved finger to the dirt and began to draw in the soft sod. “Okay, here’s where we are. We’ve got the main objective in our possession, but that doesn’t mean squat right now. Now, near as I can count, we still got three agents – one of ours and two of yours -- trapped on the inside of the compound with the big bad. Gambit, you’ve been there already, so you’re guiding Grey Goose and I to the final battle.”

“Zero, I want you to get that kid out of here and take this one with you,” Rogue said, indicating Discord. “She looks pretty banged up, and unless I’m wrong, she’s the only one that’s been preventing that kid from popping. I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible – at least until we find a way to circumvent his powers somehow. Anyone got any objections? Good, cause right now, I don’t care. Let’s get the job done and get outta here.”

Zero Down looked at Rogue straight on and responded, “I don’t have enough power to open up another gate. Unless you’ve got a plan for getting out of this deathtrap that I haven’t heard of, I think we’re out of options.”

Rogue was about to answer, but Discord cut her off. The black woman placed her hands on her hips and sighed deeply. “I can get us out, but there’s nothing more I can do with the child – at least nothing that can buy us any more time. Maybe if I’d continued my manipulation of the child’s probability fields, we might be in a different situation entirely, but there’s no way I can start the process again from the beginning. The best I can offer is trying to keep us unseen as we hoof it out of here. We’re relying on God’s good will in regards to the living time bomb.”

“Do whatcha gotta do. We’ll do the same,” Rogue responded, hanging her heads. Flipping her hair back, she looked down to Grey Goose and asked, “What about you, kiddo? You got your second wind now?”

The child smiled up at her. He was starting to admire Rogue quite a bit. She was fiery and impassioned, and she was every bit different than the members of his cell. Nodding, he replied, “The Giver must be distracted. I don’t feel his influence as much now, and unless he’s laying down the happy vibe, I’m good to go. Let’s do it.”

“Now dat’s what I like to hear. De kid’s got spunk, de group’s got a plan, and Gambit’s ready to rumble. Who knows? Mebbe we get our pictures in de paper, non?” Gambit jumped into the conversation. He flashed a toothy grin and pulled a pack of playing cards from inside his trench coat. Bridging them between his hands, he allowed a spark to trickle between the cards, and one by one, they disappeared into his sleeves. Clapping his hands, he showed his empty hands and asked, “Why don’t we have some fun with this one?”

Lifting his head from the ground, he rubbed loosely at the bump on his forehead and whined beneath his breath. As he opened his eyes, he saw that his battle was just beginning. Across the room, Tremor fought off the advances of the Giver, thrusting columns of solid rock in the psychic vampire’s path and concentrating on the chasm that opened in the palace floor. The obstacles were of little consequence as the Giver batted through them, sending shards of rock and dust spewing across the room.

“Would you just fucking fall, already?” Tremor yelled out, raised a clawed hand from the floor. The fingers of the hand closed around the Giver and gave Tremor only the slightest moment to breath. Even from this distance, Whimper could see the trickle of blood running down across Tremor’s lips as the mutant pushed his powers to their fullest reaches.

Pushing up from the floor, Whimper sought to find his footing but trembled slightly as his mind reeled. Colliding hard with a carved column, he looked up just as the Giver burst free of his stone prison. Opening his eyes wide, Whimper glared at their enemy and whispered, “Still.”

The Giver froze in place, unable to move forward. A sly smile spread across his face, and he drew in a deep breath. Exhaling sharply, the vampire blew out a blast of diseased smoke, and the air around him tingled. Whimper rocked in place and fell to his knees, losing his grip on The Giver. The vampire, distracted now, stamped across the floor and wrapped his finger tightly into the collar of Whimper’s uniform. “That was impressive, little man. It is too bad that your mind and body are weakened. You might have proven more formidable.”

Whimper laughed soundlessly as he glanced past the Giver. And now, as the Giver turned, he became aware of what Whimper had planned all along. The command hadn’t been an attempt to end the battle, but merely to allow for the battle to be properly joined by all involved.

Leaning into Tremor’s body, Switchback raised her good arm and took careful aim at the Giver. Spitting anger, she pulled the trigger and said, “Fuck you, dipshit.”

A trio of bullets tore away from the muzzle in succession and each found their target without error. Blood and flesh erupted from the Giver’s forearm as the bullets exited, and his fingers involuntarily dropped Whimper to the ground. The psychic vampire screamed in agony and wrapped his free hand around his gushing arm. Turning his head to the side, he scowled at Switchback and said, “You will die for that, bitch.”

“Been there, done that, took some pictures, and had a slide show already, motherfucker. If you want to play the game, you better come up with some better rules,” she taunted back as she dropped a fresh clip into her gun. “In fact, why don’t we just skip to the part at the end where you bitch and moan about losing miserably and then take your toys and go home?”

“Do you honestly think yourself capable of beating me? You’re nothing but a weak-willed sapling, a human with misshapen genetics seeking to find your place in a world that is stronger than you will ever be. Perhaps it is better to turn the gun on yourself, no?” The Giver asked in return, turning her taunts back upon her. Straightening his stance, he dropped his bullet-riddled arm to the side, where the last vestiges of blood were finally dripping to the floor.

Scampering away backwards, Whimper stared in awe as the wound seemed to be healing at an abnormal rate. Concentrating on the Giver’s arm, Whimper muttered beneath his breath, “Stop healing. Bleed out.”

Immediately, the vampire’s arm once again resumed its gush of blood, spilling crimson to the stark white marble tiles of his former palace. Scathing words dripped from his mouth in a language that neither Switchback nor Whimper could understand, but the sentiment was all too clear.

Steadying her arm, Switchback squeezed off set after set of rounds, drawing a line of bullet holes along his arm until she’d emptied her clip once again. She wasn’t taking any more chances with this bastard. He’d already eaten her for breakfast once today, and she had no intentions of letting it happen again.

Before she could draw another bead on her target, the floor beneath her tilted upward and her feet slipped out from beneath her. Rolling onto her stomach, she spied Tremor and realized what was happening. Moving with the descent, she reached out and snagged the flailing body of Whimper just as he was tumbling past her. Holding a finger against his lips, she said, “Don’t even bother with that talky mumbo-jumbo with me, alright? Just be happy that I’m still here to save your ass, and thank your pal for doing the same for both of us.”

Whimper nodded. She could see the look in his eyes, and somehow, she was certain that he was doing the same thing she was: hoping they had enough time to get clear before this bastard got his bearings again.

Swooping low along the ground, Rogue held Gambit tight in her arms as they weaved between the buildings of the town. Rushing as fast as she could, she followed his directions to the letter. She found herself surprised that he remembered the layout of the village as well as he did, but she chalked it up to his skills as a thief. Regardless, the directions were accurate, and they provided the quickest path back to the Giver’s palace.

Rising up the steps, they arrived in time to see Switchback empty her clip into the Giver’s arm. Dropping Gambit just to the left of Tremor, she continued up the rocky slope, ready to see this psychic vampire for herself.

Cresting the hill, she was given only a moment’s glance before the Giver backhanded her across the room. Crashing into the wall, she collapsed to the floor and looked at her enemy through spilled bangs. She kicked off the ground and rocketed toward him, tackling him around the waist. As the pair of them came to a skidding halt, she looked down at him and remarked, “Wow sugah, you sure hit hard for such a little man. You wanna try that again when I’m lookin’ at ya?”

“My pleasure,” he said.

Reeling his fist back, he flashed it forward with all his strength. Twisting to the right, Rogue caught his arm by the wrist, and road out his moment, adding her strength to the mix. The man somersaulted over her shoulder and slammed hard into the marble floor, cracking it open. Releasing her grip, Rogue smiled and said, “No, no. The pleasure is all mine.”

Behind her, the rock wall crumbled away in an explosion of magenta energy. Rushing through, the five remaining members of the Mutant Underground teams joined her in the main field of combat. Pounding his fist into his free hand. Grey Goose smiled jubilantly at the southern mutant and asked, “Did you leave anything for the rest of us to play with?”

“Impudent child, I shall show you ‘play’,” the Giver said as he regained his feet. His movements were groggy now, and it was evident that he was weakening at long last, but he was far from done.

Reaching out, he grabbed Rogue by the forearm and whipped her body into his embrace. Bending low in a flash of movement, he sank his teeth into her neck and began to drain the life from her. As Rogue released an ear-piercing scream, the Giver suddenly understood that it was the last choice he’d ever make.

The bio-auras intertwined, and Rogue fought to push away from the man. Unfortunately, in the mixing of their powers, there was an attraction that could not be resisted. Energies flowed back and forth between them, crackling through their cell structures as each struggled to maintain their own energies.

Rushing behind them, Whimper hurried to Rogue’s side. Leaning in as close as he dared, he whispered in her ear, “Strength.”

A flash exploded between the southern belle and the psychic vampire, and their two bodies roared across the wide expanse of the palace. Gambit kneeled at Rogue’s side and lowered his eyes close to her lips. “She’s still breathing, but it’s shallow. We need to get her out of here as soon as possible.”

Grey Goose turned to Tremor and said, “Can you tunnel us out of here, big guy?”

The rock-encrusted mutant nodded, and the answer seemed to satisfy the child. Stalking slowly across the room, Grey Goose crept up on The Giver and kneeled before his shriveled body. Noting the slow presence of the vampire’s breathing, Grey Goose leaned in and said, “Never again. You will never get the chance to create havoc such as this again. I think you’ve done more than enough for one lifetime.”

Shadow essence gathered around the boy, and he plunged it deep into the Giver’s still form, entering through every pore and orifice. With a twist of his hand, Grey Goose solidified the gelatinous noir and cut off every point where air entered the Giver’s body. The body bucked for a couple seconds, and then settled into stillness.

Stepping away from the body, Grey Goose lowered his head in exhaustion and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Standing just under the cover of the Mutant Underground’s command tent, Panic watched as a small group of his comrades crested the hill. Realizing that this group had none of his soldiers, the empathic mutant allowed a deep frown to cross his face. As Zero Down hurried past him, Parker turned in place and asked, “Is this how you arrange for the release of your hostages? Bartering one for another?”

“It’s always been about the objective, Panic. You know that as well as I do,” Zero Down replied without turning around. Laying the child on a cot, he checked to make he was comfortable and then breathed a heavy sigh. “This is that objective. And the only reason one my men is with us is because she’s the only one who could have ensured we’d get out alive with said objective. Now, are you going to continue criticizing how I do my job, or are you going to make yourself useful?”

Kneeling at the side of the cot, Panic cast a final, disdainful look at his second cell counterpart and then set to work. Closing his eyes, Parker said in a low tone, “He’s worried and fearful. I think he knows that his end is coming, and worse, I think he knows what that means for everyone around him. He didn’t want to be in this position, but he didn’t want to disappoint his father either. He’s felt trapped in life and now, he feels trapped in death as well.”

When he’d opened his eyes, Panic saw that Zero Down had settled down on the floor, away from them all. Meeting Panic’s gaze, Zero Down responded, “His father’s been using him since the day he was born, constantly putting the kid down and pushing him for more. Don’t you think that would make you feel trapped too?”

“No, not at all,” Panic said in reply. “It doesn’t how masterfully crafted it is. There is always an escape of a trap. Even eyes as young as this boy’s are old enough to see as much. And he didn’t stay because he didn’t see the way out. He stayed because of the inherent bond of loyalty between father and son. Monster or not, that man is still his father, and in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to make the choice he knew needed to be made.”

Zero Down shook his head. “It’s always black and white with you, isn’t it? You’re so damned determined that there’s a right and a wrong, a start and an end. And what it all boils down to is that you’re scared to see what’s in-between. You’re scared to look into the grays and actually admit that something exists there. Someday, that’s going to be your downfall, and there won’t be anyone there to catch you.”

“Are you threatening me?” Panic asked, staring at his counterpart and refusing to lift his glare even as the other man looked away. “Let me remind you that it was my good mercy that made the completion of your objective possible. If I hadn’t brought my team into this game…”

“I would have turned to the Brit, and we both know how that would have turned up,” Zero Down interrupted.

Before Panic had a chance to respond to the insinuation, a tiny hand clamped down upon his arm, and his mind flushed with raw emotions. As his eyes rolled back in his head, Panic rambled, “The child is passing into his equivalent of critical mass. He can’t hold this back any more. His mind is reeling with guilt, with apologies and surrenders. He doesn’t know how to stop it anymore.”

Off to the side, Discord buried her face in her hands. Tears glistened from beneath her fingertips. “I tried my best to delay it. If not for Whimper, I wouldn’t have been able to delay things for this long. I thought we could find a way to save him and save the people around him. I didn’t know this was going to happen. I swear to God. Jesus, what the fuck are we supposed to do now? The valley’s populated, there’s military swarming around, and that doesn’t even account for the neighboring villages. There’s no telling how big this is going to be when it goes off.”

Panic waved his hands at the woman. “What I don’t need right now is a flood of emotions from outside sources. Try to keep yourself under control, or I’m going to lose contact with the child.” Turning his head in the other direction, he tapped his fingers on the child’s chest and stated, “Zero Down, I need to know everything you know about this child and the way his powers work. Circuit, are you listening to this?”

“Every word, boss,” Circuit said over the comm frequencies. “I’ve already issued a full quarantine on this area across all military bands and notified United Nations Peacekeepers of the potentially volatile situation that may erupt from the disaster – under anonymous contact of course. Regardless of the governmental interest, I doubt we’ll be seeing any further interference, and I’m ready to intercept if we do.”

Panic nodded without responding to his technopath. Turning toward Zero Down, he asked, “Well?”

Zero Down seemed immediately off-put by Panic’s insistence, but even he could see that it wasn’t a proper time to argue the point. “Pure and simple, he’s a healer. Absorbs the pain, suffering, and disease of anyone within a specific radius of himself. At first, we thought that the ability was tactile, but it appears to be exposure related. Of course, this isn’t without its drawbacks. Every so often, he undergoes a power flare-up, a purging of the diseased bits that linger within him. His father’s usually moved him around often, and we’ve tracked his flare-ups from town to town. The most minor of these resulted in a gastro-intestinal plague that left three city blocks with blood in their stool. That was after an exposure quotient of two days. Near as we can tell, this kid’s been storing the current load for weeks, maybe as long as four months.”

“What took so long to get to him?” Panic asked.

Zero Down massaged his temples as he replied, “As I said, we were tracking him by his power flares. After the last one, he and his father dropped off the map. It was only due to the multi-national military interest that we managed to track him down again.”

Panic held up two fingers to silence the man and then closed his eyes once more. Leaning down to the child’s ear, he whispered, “I want you to listen to me and only to me. From now on, the only voice you’ll hear is mine. Right now, it’s okay to relax, perfectly acceptable to dream once more. I’m going to guide your dreams through emotion, and when you wake up, this will all be over. No one will be hurt, and the world will be a wonderful place once again. I promise.”

Several minutes passed in silence, and then the heavy sounds of the child’s relaxing breathing echoed overtop the winds from outside. A lone tear glistened Parker’s cheek as he reached into the child’s mind and tickled the boy’s emotion centers. This is where the lie began its formation. Instead of the pleasant dreams he’d promised the boy, Panic inserted instead terrifying, horrid feelings. He layered them one atop the next, putting pressures on the boy’s mind and ultimately, on his heart.

The boy passed away in complete stillness. No power flare. No released pestilence. Only the silence of broken promises and worlds that would never be a bright and wonderful place.

NEXT ISSUE: The teams take some downtime and the ramifications of the joint operation come to light. Panic and Zero Down hash out the behind-the-scenes as wounds are attended. After her confrontation with the Giver, will Rogue be left changed? And who will go where when all is said and done?