Jean Grey’s eyes slowly opened and she groaned slightly at the prospect of having to get out of bed. She rolled onto her side and noticed the digital clock on the bedside table. The red digits on it conveyed the time. Nine in the morning.

She relished the feeling of sleeping in a comfortable, hotel bed. Ever since the X-Men had taken up residence in the Morlock tunnels, she had grown accustomed to sleeping on a cot.

Slowly, she climbed out of bed, instantly realizing she had no clothes on. She crossed to the closet and pulled one of the bathrobes out, covering her nude body with it. Her gaze turned to the curtains on the other side of the room and she parted them with a simple thought.

The morning sun shined in through the balcony doors. She hovered a few inches above the ground and the doors slid open for her as she approached. She looked out over the skyline and noticed something very strange.

"Manhattan?" she asked. "How’d I get in Manhattan?"

Before another thought could register, slender arms wrapped around Jean’s midsection and she felt gentle lips press against her neck. Jean was a bit taken aback, but the feeling was nice.

"Good morning," said the woman holding her. Jean turned her head to see the face of a beautiful young woman with long, brown hair. She also wore a bathrobe and when Jean looked at her, the next thing she knew, both their lips were locked together.

"Mmmorning," said Jean after the kiss.

"Sleep well?"

"After last night, who wouldn’t?" asked Jean. She wasn’t sure why she said that. Her memory seemed fractured for some reason. She couldn’t seem to have a firm grasp on what had happened, but the words just flowed from her mouth. "How about you, Marti?"

"Gave me a chance to recharge my batteries," said Marti. Her hand moved up towards Jean’s chest and slid beneath the robe. "So now I’m ready to go again."

"Glad to hear it," said Jean, relishing the feel of Marti’s touch.

"You’re insatiable, aren’t you, Jean?" asked Marti.

Jean turned to face the woman and the two embraced each other in a passionate kiss. Slowly, they rose up from the balcony, and Jean could sense the surrounding aura of the Phoenix avatar.

The more passion she felt, the more emotion, the stronger she felt. The Phoenix was also experiencing these sensations, and loving every minute of it.

Slowly, Jean’s eyelids lifted and as soon as her emerald orbs took in the sight, she jumped a bit. She hadn’t expected to see Scott Summers leaning against the wall across from her cot staring at her. He was dressed in his uniform with the leather jacket over the top, but his visor was gone, replaced with his ruby-quartz sunglasses.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," she said. "Is something going on?"

"Hank’s ready for you," said Scott.

"So he did it, then?" asked Jean.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "I thought you would have plucked that answer from my thoughts the minute you woke up."

"Sorry, guess my powers are just as groggy as I am in the morning," she said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Well, to answer your question, yes, he did it," said Scott. "We’re ready to get started and we just need a telepath."

"Okay," said Jean. She climbed out from the cot, wearing panties and a tank top. Scott cleared his throat as he turned his head to the side. Jean took notice of this and scoffed as she pulled on her jeans. "Oh grow up, Summers. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before."

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"Good," said Scott. He led the way out of the small area that served as Jean’s room with her by his side. "By the way, who’s Marti?"

"Hmm?" asked Jean.

"While you were sleeping, you kept saying the name Marti. Who’s Marti?"

"Oh, Marti’s just… just…" She stopped in her tracks and Scott did as well, turning a curious glance in her direction. She has a confused look on her face when she looked back at him. "That’s funny, I can’t seem to remember. Nothing important, it was just a dream, I guess."

Scott nodded and the two walked into another area of the tunnels where Hank McCoy sat by a workbench with a lot of unfamiliar devices and a small helmet. Gateway sat in the corner, meditating.

"We’re ready," said Scott.

"Perfect," said Hank. He grabbed the helmet. "And so is Cerebro."

Jean came closer and picked up the helmet, noticing the wires attached to it and connected to another electronic device which was hooked up to an electrical grid.

"How’d you finally figure it out?" she asked.

"It’s the strangest thing—when we were in Avalon, I kept trying to tinker around with building a reasonable Cerebro facsimile, but I could never seem to get it," said Hank. "After I recovered from the attack by the Marauders, I started getting all these ideas, though. So I went to work. Perhaps my secondary mutation was more than physical—maybe it also enhanced my mental capabilities as well."

"Will this one actually work, though?" asked Scott.

"Only one way to find out," said Hank. "If it does, this means we may be able to locate the Professor’s mind on the astral plane."

"There’s someone else I want to look for, first," said Scott. Jean smiled. Hank turned his head between both of them.

"Did I miss something?" he asked.

"Yes," said Scott. "Jean?"

She placed the helmet over her head and concentrated, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, the entire world grew small enough to fit in her hand. The planet seemed to spin in her hand as her eyes passed across the globe. There were thousands, if not millions, of tiny, glowing lights.

"So many of us…" she said to herself. "But I’m only looking for one of you…"

The globe continued spinning, until it slowed and stopped. Jean focused in on one area and the view grew larger and larger until she found whom it was she was searching for. She closed her eyes again and when she reopened them, she was back in Hank’s workshop.

"Well?" asked Scott.

"He’s in Japan," said Jean as she lifted the helmet off.

"Him?" asked Hank. "I thought he decided to leave us."

"We need him, Hank. We can’t do this on our own, not anymore," said Jean.

Gateway’s eyes snapped open and he stood from his lotus position, crossing over to the three X-Men.

"I take it you’re ready to go, then," he said.

"I am," said Scott. "Hopefully I won’t be too long."

"I’ll monitor you from here with Cerebro," said Jean.

Gateway waved his arms and a portal opened before Scott. The leader of the X-Men walked through it. When he came out on the other end, he found himself in the mountains of Japan. He glanced around and saw no one around him.

"Well, at least nobody saw that…" he muttered.

Scott could hear Jean’s voice in his head, directing him where to go. He climbed a bit and once he reached the edge, he looked down on the other side of the mountain and saw a Buddhist temple with a beautiful garden, surrounded by a wooden gate.

Slowly, he climbed down, careful not to slip and fall on the mountain. Once he reached the foot of the mountain, he walked to the front gate and pushed it open. A bald, Japanese man dressed in robes approached him.

"Jean, I think I’ll need you to translate for me," he said.

"How can I help you?" asked the man. Although he spoke Japanese, Scott heard the words in English.

"I’m looking for a friend who may be here," said Scott. Just as he heard the Japanese in English, Jean translated Scott’s English into Japanese as the words left his mouth. "He’s not Japanese, he’s a bit gruff, has a strange hairstyle."

"Ah yes, I know who you speak of. Please, follow me."

The man led Scott through the temple and towards the back, where Scott saw the man he sought out meditating in the center of a large garden. He too, was dressed in robes and a Buddhist temple was perhaps the last place Scott expected to find him.

"Thank you," said Scott. The man bowed and left the two of them. Scott slowly approached his former teammate, being very cautious. As he grew closer, he opened his mouth, but before he got a chance to speak, his words were cut off.

"What are you doin’ here, Summers?"

"I came to talk to you. How did you—?"

"I know your scent too well," he said. His eyes opened and the gaze he fixed upon Scott sent shivers down the younger man’s spine. "Now why are you here? Last time we spoke, you told me I was a danger to your team."

"I came here to apologize," said Scott. "I was wrong, I know that now. I was angry over what happened to everyone and I took it out on you, when I shouldn’t have. You did the best you could and if I were in that same situation, I’m not sure I could do the same."

"Apology accepted," said Logan. "Now get out."

"Don’t you even want to hear what I have to say?" asked Scott.

"I don’t wanna say I don’t you so, but I told you so," said Logan. "I said you’d come crawlin’ back an’ here we are. My pride’s feelin’ good, and I don’t wanna waste any more time lookin’ at your face."

"We need you, Logan. We can’t cut it on our own and we have nowhere to go," said Scott.

"Gimme one good reason why I should—"

"Kitty’s dead."

"…what?"

"Kitty’s dead," said Scott. "We weren’t able to find a way to help her condition and she just faded out of existence. I know how crazy that sounds, but it’s essentially what happened. We’ve had some close calls since you left, including a scrape with SHIELD. And now, I’ve realized that I can’t do this on my own. SHIELD may have given us a break, but for how long? Or what if Magneto resurfaces? And there’s still the matter of who hired the Marauders to kill the Morlocks. Bottom line—we can’t do this alone. We need you. You’re pissed at me, I get that. But don’t take it out on the others. They don’t deserve it."

Logan huffed and got to his feet. "Alright, but there’s one condition."

"What’s that?" asked Scott.

"If you ever pull this shit again, I’ll kill you myself," he said. Logan walked right up to Scott and stared him down. "We clear, one-eye?"

"Crystal," said Scott. He extended his hand. "It’s good to have you back, Logan."

"Shove it," said Logan. "I’m gonna get my stuff, wait here."

A flash of bright, yellow light and smoke triggered the arrival of Kurt Darkholme, holding two bottles of water. Kurt walked over to the massive, steel-skinned form that worked hard at chipping away at stone with his metal fingers and tapped him on the shoulder.

Peter Rasputin stopped and turned to look at Kurt. He shifted from steel to flesh and blood and took one of the water bottles. "Thank you."

"No problem," said Kurt. He looked at the stone sculpture. "How’s it coming along?"

"Slow but sure," said Peter. "After Kitty’s death, I felt an inspiration to devote more time to it. So much mutant blood has been spilt…"

"I know," said Kurt.

"You think it’ll ever end, Kurt? All the suffering?"

"Honestly?" asked Kurt. "No. There’s far too much fear and hatred in the world."

"Hank said something similar to me."

"He’s a smart man."

"You already know my history, Kurt, you know I’m not naïve," said Peter. "But I still want to believe there’s hope for our kind. Because if there is no hope, then why do we still fight?"

"Self-preservation, I guess," said Kurt.

"Is that the only reason you’re here?" asked Peter.

"More or less."

"I’ve known you too long, Kurt. You wouldn’t have betrayed the Brotherhood simply for self-preservation. You’re just running scared," said Peter.

Kurt took a sip from his water bottle. "You could be right."

"Are you sure this is wise, Sebastian?" The voice belonged to a young man with long, blond hair. He wore a white suit, specially-tailored to accommodate his large, feathered wings that protruded from his back. Warren Worthington III, or the Angel as the papers had dubbed him for not only his appearance, but his charity work as well.

Sebastian Shaw was Warren’s senior by at least twenty years. He had been a member of the infamous and exclusive Hellfire Club for his entire life, membership having been inherited from his father. He sipped brandy from a large glass and smiled at his young companion.

"Trust me, Warren," he said. "The time is ripe for the ascension."

"An opportunity like this only arises once every five hundred years, young Worthington," said Harry Leland. The oldest of the Hellfire Club’s inner circle, Leland was a large, robust man.

"I understand that, Harry, but—"

"Warren, please, do be quiet." This voice was very soothing. It belonged to a shapely young blonde woman, dressed in white clothing that clung to her every curve and accentuated her assets. She held a glass of wine in one hand and sipped it slowly.

"Emma, how is Martinique’s progress?" asked Shaw.

"Ask her yourself, Sebastian dear, here she comes now," said Emma Frost.

Once Emma finished her statement, the door opened and a young woman with long, brown hair and dressed all in black stepped in. She smiled when she saw the faces of her fellow members.

"The time grows near," said Martinique. "Soon, Jean Grey will be prepared for the ascension."

"How much longer, Martinique?" asked Shaw.

"Another few weeks, perhaps a month," said Martinique.

"Unacceptable," said Leland.

"The mind is a fragile thing, Leland," said Martinique. "We can’t simply force Jean Grey to do our bidding. The Phoenix could react negatively, even violently."

"Our window will be closed soon," said Leland. "We should have begun work on her far earlier."

"We had no choice, we weren’t sure where the Phoenix would next manifest itself," said Martinique.

"Harold is right," said Shaw. "Speed up the process."

"But Sebastian—"

"I said do it," said Shaw. "Do not make me repeat myself, Ms. Jason."

"It’s too delicate an operation, her defenses—"

"Then have Emma assist you," said Shaw. "The two of you together can break through any defenses or safeguards she may have."

"This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Sebastian," said Emma. "I hope you realize that."

"Of course I do, Emma," said Sebastian. "It’s the only type of game I play."