London

"Dammit!"

The large, blue-furred fist that slammed into the wall belonged to the young mutant named Hank McCoy. He breathed heavily in frustration and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. The sound drew the owner of the small clinic into the room. A Puerto Rican woman named Dr. Cecilia Reyes.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"I can’t figure it out," replied Hank. "Ever since I was able to, I’ve been reviewing what little information we’ve been able to gain from Kitty’s current condition, trying to find a way to reverse it. But I keep coming up short."

"No one expect you to find an answer," said Cecilia. "I’ve been working myself, but it’s not easy when the patient isn’t even solid. Besides, you’re just a high school graduate. You’re not an expect in genetics."

"It’s been a passion of mine for years, though. It’s what I was going to explore in college. I wanted to make a career out of it. I’ve read countless papers, studied the field in great depth in my spare time. But I can’t seem to wrap my head around this."

"Look Hank, the sad truth is neither of us is an expert in genetics," said Cecilia. "And because of that, neither of us knows what’s really happening to Kitty. We can only hazard a guess at best."

"Why didn’t she experience this ‘secondary mutation’ thing that I did?" asked Hank. "Why haven’t her powers kicked in to save her?"

"I don’t know," replied Cecilia. "I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t."

"An answer for what?"

Cecilia and Hank recognized the voice as the one that belonged to Scott Summers, the X-Men’s de facto leader since Wolverine’s disappearance. He stood in the doorway, red sunglasses concealing his eyes. By his side was Kurt Darkholme, whose bright yellow eyes were a sharp contrast to his jet-black skin.

"Nothing," said Cecilia. "We’ve just been working on Kitty’s… condition."

"Any progress?" asked Kurt. Cecilia shook her head and he sighed.

"There is something else, though." Cecilia moved towards the desk and shuffled through some papers.

"Oh?" asked Scott.

Cecilia took a small envelope from the desk and handed it to him. Scott looked at it in surprise to see that it was addressed to him. He tore it open and pulled the letter out.

"I found it with the mail today," she said. "Obviously, someone knows you’re here."

"Maybe it’s from Logan?" asked Kurt.

"Or Xavier," said Hank. "After all, Jean said there was a possibility that his mind is still out there. Maybe he found a new body."

"None of the above…" said Scott.

"Then who’s it from and how did they know to reach you through me?" asked Cecilia.

"I don’t know how he knew where to find us, but it’s from my brother," replied Scott. "Looks like he escaped from Avalon before SHIELD arrived."

Hank took the letter from Scott and scanned over it quickly. "I don’t like the looks of this."

"What’s it say?" asked Kurt.

"He wants Scott to meet him at their grandparents’ cabin," replied Hank.

"Then that’s what I’ll do," said Scott.

"It might be a trap," said Hank. "If Alex got away from Avalon, maybe the other Acolytes did, too. Maybe they want revenge on us for what we did to Magneto. They could be trying to split us up. Divide and conquer."

"Don’t worry, I can handle it," said Scott.

"Remember what happened the last time you responded to a call from your brother?" asked Hank.

Scott paused. He did remember and his mind flashed back to the encounter with the mad geneticist who called himself Sinister. A shiver went down his spine.

"Fine," he said. "We’ll all go."

This was not what Jean Grey was used to. She had gone to one of London’s nightclubs, intending on simply having a few drinks and enjoying the atmosphere. What she hadn’t counted on was striking up a conversation with a beautiful, young brunette woman who had offered to buy her a drink.

One drink had turned into three or four and the next thing Jean knew, she was pressed up against the wall of a motel room while the mysterious stranger’s lips locked against hers. The stranger’s hands wandered all over, exploring every area of Jean’s body. She began to strip the young redhead of her clothes and pushed her down to the bed.

The brunette stripped for Jean, swaying slightly to nonexistent music. She leapt on the bed and her lips devoured Jean’s in a ferocious kiss. Her mouth began to explore Jean’s neck, moving down towards her bare chest and then further south.

The young telepath moaned in pleasure as her companion continued. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, crying out for more. Her body felt like it was on fire, desire bubbling to the surface and overcoming her in a wash of pure ecstasy. When she opened her eyes, she found that the heat wasn’t just her passion—she was surrounded on all sides by flames.

Cloaked figures surrounded her and Jean lay there on cold marble, completely naked. Their faces were all hidden from her. She could see symbols all around her on the marble floor. What looked to be pictographs. While she couldn’t recognize them, there was one that stood out in her mind.

It was a bird made out of flames.

Jean cried out and her eyes snapped open. She looked around and found she was back inside the Morlock Tunnels. The Aborigine mutant known as Gateway stood in the doorway and watched her with curiosity.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah…" replied Jean. "Just… just had a pretty intense dream, that’s all."

"I thought you were meditating."

"I was. I guess I fell asleep."

"Cyclops wanted me to find you," said Gateway. "It looks like you’re off on another adventure."

Anchorage, Alaska

Christopher Summers entered the small gun store and began exploring. The man behind the counter eyed him suspiciously, taking note of the hospital scrubs he wore.

"You a doctor or something?" he asked.

"Or something," replied Summers.

"What can I help you with?"

Summers approached the counter then knelt before it. His eyes passed across the handguns enclosed inside. He placed his hands on the glass, then slowly slid them across it. The clerk simply cocked an eyebrow and watched with rapt attention.

"You alright, buddy?"

"Perfect."

Summers stood and pointed at a gun in the case. "I want that one."

The clerk opened the case and removed the gun. He passed it to Summers, who examined it.

"That's a .44 Magnum," he said. "Good weapon."

"No, it's primitive," said Summers. "But it'll have to do."

He grabbed the pistol by the barrel and slammed the hilt against the clerk's face. The clerk fell back and Corsair leapt over the counter. He proceeded to beat the clerk unconscious, then collected the appropriate ammunition as well as a second gun.

Colonel Nick Fury walked through the halls of the Alaska Psychiatric Institute. A few SHIELD agents flanked him. He held a cell phone against his ear.

"I don’t care what the mayor says, I want roadblocks set up. If he keeps giving you shit about it, arrest him on charges of obstructing a federal investigation. No we don’t need to tell him anything more than that. Alright good, get it done."

He turned off the phone and slid it into a pocket on his belt. Doctor Leonard Samson came running behind Fury and his entourage.

"Colonel Fury!"

"I want a complete account of everything Summers was involved with," said Fury to one of the agents who flanked him. "Full disclosure, you got me?"

"Colonel Fury!" exclaimed Samson.

"Also, get me his medical records. I want to know what he’s been saying to these doctors during the years he’s been here."

"Colonel Fury!"

"What do you want, Samson?" Fury stopped and he and his entourage faced the psychiatrist.

"Colonel, I’d like to know just what is going on here," said Samson. "Why is SHIELD so interested in Christopher Summers anyway?"

"That’s classified, Doctor," said Fury. "I want you to locate all the files pertaining to Summers and then I want you to turn them over to Agent Pierce here. Is that understood?"

"I’m sorry Colonel, but no," said Samson. Fury stepped forward and glared at Samson with his one good eye.

"You mind repeating that?"

"Those files are classified," replied Samson. "Doctor/patient confidentiality. You have no right to look through them. And I won’t give you any right to look through them unless you tell me what this is all about."

Fury reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar and a Zippo lighter.

"You can’t smoke in he—"

Fury lit the cigar and puffed on it, blowing the smoke in Samson’s direction.

"Now you listen and you listen good, Samson. I’ve got a job to do. Summers has been under SHIELD supervision ever since he first came here. Hell, we were the ones who put him in here to begin with. The man has information in his head—dangerous information—that could be a vital threat to national security."

"Colonel, he thinks he’s a space pirate," said Samson. "The man has completely disassociated himself from reality."

"That’s your opinion, Doctor," said Fury. "Personally, I think he knows more than he’s telling. And under the provisions of Homeland Security, SHIELD is authorized to view whatever records we wish if they pertain to matters of national security. Which this does. So turn over the documents or I’ll have your ass on the next plane to Guantanamo. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes… yes we do," said Samson.

"Good," said Fury. "Now pretty please, give me those fucking files."

A portal opened before the small cabin in Anchorage. It was this cabin where Scott spent his formative years. He was the first out of the portal, with the rest of the X-Men following close behind. With the exception of Nightcrawler and Colossus, the X-Men had been here once before. It felt like a lifetime ago when they came here and battled Sinister.

"Alex!" Cyclops called out. His eyes scanned the area from behind the ruby-quartz visor that held back his optic blasts. "Alex!"

No answer came forth. Cyclops sighed and looked at Phoenix. She nodded and closed her eyes.

"I don't sense him here at all," she said.

"That's not possible," said Cyclops. "He said he would be here."

"Well, we did teleport," said Dazzler. "Maybe he's just not here yet?"

"No... there's something else here," said Phoenix.

Corsair leapt from his hiding spot to the side of the house. He brought both handguns up and started firing. Phoenix instantly brought up a telekinetic shield to block the bullets.

"You... how'd you do that?" he asked. "You must be with the Imperial Guard."

"The what?" asked Colossus.

"D'Ken sent you, didn't he?" asked Corsair.

"Look, I don't know who you are but you've got about ten seconds to explain why you're skulking around my grandparents' cabin," said Cyclops.

"Grandparents?" asked Corsair. "You're crazy."

"Well one of us is..." muttered Thunderbird.

"This is my parents' cabin," said Corsair. "I escaped from the Shi'ar slave pens and I came here. They've come to Earth, don't you see? My homeworld. They've come here to destroy the planet. To turn it into a breeding ground for the Brood. Like they did to Hala."

"Does anyone here speak psycho, because I have no idea what he's saying," said Thunderbird.

"This is getting ridiculous," said Cyclops.

Two well-placed optic blasts quickly disarmed Corsair of his weapons. Nightcrawler teleported behind the man and quickly restrained him. Corsair flipped Nightcrawler over, freeing him of the mutant. Thunderbird moved with superhuman speed and drove his fist into Corsair's jaw. With Corsair down, Thunderbird pinned him to the ground.

"Don't move," he said.

"Stop," said Phoenix. "Scott, do you recognize this man?"

"What?" asked Cyclops. "Of course not. Why?"

"Because I've just scanned his mind," replied Phoenix. "He thinks he's Corsair, a man who was abducted by aliens. Now, he believes he's the sole survivor of a group of space pirates called the Starjammers."

"So he's crazy," said Thunderbird. "I could've told you that."

"That's not all," said Phoenix. "Scott, this man's real name is Christopher Summers."

The X-Men collectively looked at Phoenix in shock.

"Could you... say that again?" asked Cyclops.

"He's your father, Scott."

"Status report, Agent Carter," said Fury.

{{ We've located Major Summers. He's just encountered the X-Men. Do you want us to engage? }}

"Not yet," said Fury. "Let's see how this all plays out."