Genosha - The End of the Beginning

[xp_daytripper]

Thomas Moreau demonstrates to his captives what will happen to them if they don't cooperate.

Trigger Warning: Disturbing material involving a child.




The Magistrates marched them into what they called the mutate room, a concrete box with one wall entirely replaced by reinforced glass. Some of the others had already been taken away, but Moreau didn't seem to notice or care. He kept barking orders on his cellphone, sending staff scurrying around him. Through the glass wall, they could see an ultra-modern lab, dominated by a wheel like construction with squat pods at the end of each of the six spokes. However, all of the activity was taking place around a raised platform, looked to have been hastily turned into a work area, where a framework of technological components encase a man sized area and a padded chair. Technicians and assistants were all working on the frame, overseen by a man in a containment suit, who watched their process carefully.

"Genegineer, are we ready for the test."

"A few moments, Minister." The voice was muffled and broken from the suit. "I must stress that the chances for failure and the death of the subject are extremely high. I would not recommend continuing, especially without Dr. Ryan's input."

"There are things that Doctor Ryan doesn't need to know about, Genegineer. And the risk is perfectly acceptable." His smile turned ghoulish as he looked back at the captives.

Kurt glared at him viciously but stayed silent. He was trying not to look at the chamber and what was happening in it, but even knowing what might lie ahead for all of them, it was hard to keep his eyes from straying to the glass.
Scott stared into the room trying to gain an insight into the mind of someone who would do something like this to other people. He turned his gaze to Moreau, staring a hole in the back of the man's head. "You don't have to do this this," he spat at the man.

"Of course I do. I said cooperate and you decided to act like savages. The difference between us is that I don't make empty threats." He turned, and fixed Scott with a glare. "So perhaps this will instil a little restraint in you. And if not, well, you might be watching this happen many more times."

Adrienne wasn't entirely sure what 'this' was going to be, but it was starting to make her very nervous, mainly because she felt as if she'd been one of the people acting 'like savages', and thus one of the reasons 'this' was about to happen. Already beginning to feel guilty, she decided to keep her mouth shut this time.

"He's a spineless weasel," Clarice said randomly. Of course Moreau had to do this. It fit with his soulless, immoral and unethical evil mad scientist thing he had going. She didn't want to look, but she did. Someone had to. "'First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.'" It was a quote from a German pastor during the Holocaust and it resonated in her now.

North did not blanch, but his fists slowly clenched as Clarice spoke, her words hitting home harder than he permitted himself to show. He may not have had a part in the holocaust, but he knew people who had and he had heard the stories. The Soviet regime, of which he had been a part of, was barely any different. Clarice’s analogy, he acknowledged, was apt. North could only hope that Moreau’s ideas of retribution and deterrence were more humane. Hope against hope.

The sharp, agonising pain from his broken right trigger finger kept him in the present and allowed him to clamp and shove down on his emotions, letting them die out like a smothered flame. The German man stood away from the glass despite his injured leg, blank gaze set on the Genengineer, watching, but unnaturally still.

"I fucking hate scientists." Sarah, bruised and battered, leaned against the glass for support. She probably wouldn't know the poor bastard they were bringing in to make an example out of, but she knew that wouldn't make it any easier to watch whatever they were getting ready to do. "Fucking bastards," she muttered.

Korvus looked on silently. No appeal was going to affect their situation and he didn't anticipate a final reprieve or chance to act. The best he could do now was be a diligent witness and memorize as much of the scene as possible.

Doug strained futilely against his restraints, the manacles clinking rhythmically as he jerked and tried to at least get a hand free. A low growl reverberated through his chest as he saw a pair of guards bring a struggling child in, who couldn't have been more than six or seven by the size of her. Children. They were experimenting on children. That was so wrong he couldn't even begin to find the words for it. And then he spotted a shock of red hair, and an all too familiar face, considering he'd been there to watch her grow up for several years before she had gone back to Muir Island with her mother.

Rachel Dayspring.

"No!" he shouted, redoubling his efforts against his chains.

Kurt's head snapped to the window the moment Doug cried out, and he gasped at what he saw – then dropped to his knees, resisting all efforts by the guards to force him back to his feet, clasped his hands and began to pray aloud. This time his eyes stayed fixed on the room below - like it or not, he was going to be a witness to this.

“You had your chance to behave.” Moreau said, as two guards beat Doug to the floor with their truncheons. “Instead, you just had to get a little payback.” He walked over to where Layla was, and grabbed her by the hair, shoving her roughly towards the window. “Do you see her? I hope that punch was worth her life.”

His communicator crackled to life again. “Minister, I must stress once again, the potential side effects are unknown on a subject this young. She-“

“Genegineer, I like to think we’ve had a good working relationship up until now. Do as you’ve been instructed. I will take responsibility for any unexpected consequences with my brother.” He let go of Layla’s hair.

“Very well.” The technicians began to restrain Rachel to the chair, already fitted in a strangely patterned red and yellow bodysuit.

The pain from being manhandled by her hair was nothing next to the confusion and shock running through Layla. It was a kid. Just a little kid. A kid that Herr Sefton knew, that Doug knew. Her eyes moved around the group with her and noted recognition and pain on so many of their faces. She wasn't just a kid...she was one of them, really. One of that weird web of people that all led back to Xavier. The blonde's jaw dropped a little and she stared at the little girl. The little redheaded girl that... that might not survive. And it was her fault. Her jaw clenched as well as her hands. She wanted to kill that bastard more now than she did when she punched him but who wound up in that room if she did? Nails dug into the flesh of her palms but Layla said nothing, did nothing, but watch and use whatever self-restraint she had to keep her from moving.

Angel's eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as the realization of what she was seeing set in. She shook her head, a silent denial, and while she wanted to look away, wanted to protest, wanted to do something, wanted to say something...her body simply refused to work. She couldn't close her eyes, she couldn't look away, she couldn't make her voice work. She couldn't do anything.

Rachel was crying, screaming, struggling against the hands that were holding her. Amanda's heart froze at the sight. Not Rachel. Not another child lost for Moira and Nathan. Her fists clenched and for a moment her feet shifted slightly on the floor, as if she were about to launch herself at the glass, but then she glanced around at her companions. Her face twisted, caught in a terrible decision.

Amanda's shoulders slumped in defeat and the witch bowed her head.

As Vance watched the exchange between Moreau, Layla and Doug, then looked back to watch the young child in the room beyond that his teammates seemed to know so well, his shoulders crumpled and his vision became blurred with the tears that started streaming down his face.

Eyes already starting to redden, Vance tore his eyes away from the struggling child to look pleadingly down at Moreau. “No. Don’t do this!”, he pleaded, his voice was ragged from the strain as he attempted to raise his shackles in a pleading gesture, “Don’t put this on her! Don’t be the monster here! I beg you, use me instead! “

Naturally, Vance was rewarded with a sharp blow to his shoulder from a truncheon that drove him to his knees on the floor.

Scott stared at the terrified girl as she was manhandled into position for the process to begin, tears streaming unnoticed, and unbidden down his face. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides and he took a step towards Moreau before he got himself under control. He would like nothing more than to take a swing at Moreau and demand that he stop the experiment. But that was the excuse the sadist was waiting for, if only he had his powers he could...he would....a quiet sob escaped the man as he realized there was nothing he could do. Even if they were all able to fight they couldn't force their way out of the citadel through all the soldiers and mutates. He slammed his fist against the window panel in despair, wishing that he was down there and could comfort Rachael, that he was anywhere but there.

Breathing deeply, jaw clenched, Clarice did her best not to react. There was no way she couldn't though. Not if that was Rachel. It had been years since Clarice had seen the child, but she looked just like Moira to her eyes, there was no way it couldn't be. Regardless, this was a child and they were going to do something horrible. No child should go through this. Ever. She'd get revenge. Period. Unable to hold it in, she gasped, making a strangled whimpering noise, forcing her eyes to watch.

The lack of control inside their room was noted by Korvus. They wanted to mutants there to watch and to react. They were obliging, from enraged to crying. He had read about this in American history and he knew there was only one way to resist in any meaningful way.

"आ लौट के आजा मेरे मीत तुझे मेरे गीत बुलाते हैं." The young man began to sing softly in Hindi. He didn't know many American songs and none that would be fitting for such a terrible moment. He had to make due with what he had until someone with more experience could carry the group.

Doug knew Korvus was singing in Hindi, his native language. And if he'd had his power, he would have been able to understand the words. But his power had been turned off, and all he was left with was the maddening memory of what had been, the piece of him that was missing. He did understand Korvus' intent, though. The only problem was that he wasn't in any kind of peaceful resistance sort of mood. But he understood the need to not give Moreau the reactions he was seeking. Once the guards let him back up and dragged him roughly to a vertical position, Doug sat there, mute, committing every face in the room to memory behind cold eyes.

He wanted to tell himself that he had seen worse, that he had done worse. But there was a limit to how much North could manipulate and quell his emotions. So he felt the disgust that left an acrid taste in his mouth and allowed fury to well within him. He could not keep his eyes on the struggling redheaded child, so he unfocused his gaze and clenched his teeth, listening to his companions’ reactions and using them to fuel his determination to maintain his stony silence. None of them needed the torture of a second on their conscience. If they lived to regain their freedom, one child was enough to revenge.

Choice words came to mind as Lex watched the scene, but he withheld them. It would not help the little girl for him to mouth off and get knocked unconscious nor for him to get one of his teammates injured through his actions. He whispered under his breath, low enough for only the members of the team closest to him to know he'd spoken. "I swear, if any harm comes to the child then there will be blood... and God alone will be able to sort it out" At that moment Lex knew in his heart that the only reason he did not kill his enemies on the field was his willingness to accept Charles' rules for the X-Men. Without them he did not know what he was: a killer, a warrior, possibly a hunter. Whatever he was, blood would not be an issue.

Tabitha didn't- couldn't look at Rachel. Her eyes burned with fury and tears she refused to shed, shoulders hunched protectively. Instead she stared up at Moreau, memorizing his face and every expression that crossed it. She really didn't know when, who, or how, but that man was going to die.

And she really wanted to be there to see it.

The power grew on the framework, and parts of the lab shook with panicked telekinetic lashes. A nimbus of energy was growing around Rachel as she fought against the mutate process, but as the young girl's screams grew, the throbbing bands of energy did as well. An assistant was knocked back a dozen feet by an unseen force, and the framework metal started to bend under the pressure.

"Genegineer! Get this under control!"

"I did mention that there would be complications, Minister." The man's voice was calm, despite the chaos around him and the muffling of the suit. "Would you like me to stop the process?"

"Just finish it!"

"It's not going to finish here, Moreau." Remy's voice was wrapped under tight control. He had witnessed a thousand horrors, most of them of his own devising. The incandescent rage, the sick pain for the young girl and for what Nate and Moira would soon face, the guilt that he could do nothing that would change the outcome; all of it was tightly held down, channelled, and ready to be unleashed at the right time. "If dis is a war, you just ended any chance of peace. It's what you want, isn't it?"

"When Magneto comes to Genosha, every television will see him tear Hammer Bay apart. Innocents dying, a small nation on fire because they displeased a powerful mutant. And then you and your team and the other mutates will come for him. Wave after wave, until they pull him down and rip out his guts on the street. And the world won't dare say that Genosha doesn't have the right to use our mutates to defend ourselves." He smiled slowly, eyes switching between the young girl and the Cajun's glare. "Once they accept what they're forced to accept, we win. Every tottering state in Africa will find itself saved by Genosha peacekeepers, and new democratic governments that ultimately take orders from Hammer Bay. Soon enough, the 'African Union' will be the next logical step, and with its resources and our leadership, it will be the newest economic powerhouse. For that, I'd sacrifice a million mutants." He paused.

"And a thousand little girls."

Rachel's screams hit a crescendo, the window between them exploding with a telekinetic blast. The framework bent and twisted, as if being wrenched by an invisible hand. In the middle, Rachel was bathed in pure light, white hot and flaring. The brightness increased, following the intensity of her screams further and further, until they were all forced to shield their eyes from the glare. a thousand tiny objects whipped around them in a fury; a maelstrom of chaos.

And in a heartbeat, it stopped. Metal clattered as it fell to the floor, and in the midst of the now ruined framework, an empty seat sat, burned from an unknown source, and holding no traces of the child that had been there. Technicians slowly came forward to examine the seat, and a slightly shaken Moreau straightened up.

"Genegineer? What happened?"

"It would appear her physical form wasn't robust enough to survive the mutate process. The energy required for her powers must have consumed her instead. I'm afraid the girl is gone, Minister."

"Very well. Guards, take these mutants away for processing." He waved them off, and said softly to Remy as he walked by.

"Welcome to the war."