Age of Apocalypse: Retreat

[x-eidolon.livejournal.com]

Injured and increasingly overwhelmed, the team makes a strategic retreat.



With Death off of his back, quite literally - because seriously, was there anyone in the universe who hadn't been riding his back today? - Sam looked around to see where the rest of his teammates were and tried to assess the situation.

A lull. They always meant more than they seemed in the heat of combat. "Sam, you communicator still working?"

"No longer operational here." Sam double checked it while he replied to Remy to make sure of the same, and it appeared to still be malfunctioning. "Don't think it'll be in working order anytime soon either."

Something was coming. Death regrouping perhaps? Remy couldn't shake the feeling of pressure, like a boot just starting to press down. "Get ready to fall back to de lab entrance. Dey've been beaten back, but we strung out on a line here. I'd try and isolate us from linking up, and dey at least as smart as me. Relay the retreat by word of mouth if you have to, but get them to fall back."

Part of Sam wanted to stay and help with the fighting, but he knew when to follow orders. Which was pretty much all of the time, really, but Remy was right, they needed to spread the word and fast. "Roger that, I'm on my way." With that he leapt into the air and ignited his powers, off to sound the retreat the old fashioned way.

****

Remy had long learned to trust his instincts. Hunches for him were the product of decades of intense training and experience; his subconscious picking up on important details his conscious mind had missed, and pushing them into the forefront. This was one of those times as he scanned the area.

A decent whistle pierced the air and War emerged, the tip of her sword lazily drawing a trail behind her. "Leaving so soon?"

"Was considering it." Remy shifted, bringing up his staff. "You de next minion to act tough?"

She smiled, a strand of red hair escaping her braid as War casually tilted her head and shrugged. "Eh. Just cleaning up. Coup de grâce, if you will."

"Sadly, femme, Remy won't." His hand flickered out, sending three cards seeking her eyes with a flash of violet energy.

One card caught the corner of her left eye as she turned her head, but the victory was short lived. The blast had torn away the eye and part of her jaw, but her smile remained, a jackal grin with only part of a mouth, quickly reformed as she pulled off several layers of skin, starting behind her opposite ear. "I'd be disappointed that no one has relayed to you yet not to do that, but. I suppose I killed everyone who'd tell you, didn't I?"

"It would appear so." Remy said. So that was the end result of Paige's powers. That was... not good for him. He faded back a few feet and threw two more cards, this time at the base of a nearby wall. The explosion toppled the concrete onto War with a thunderous crash as Remy took to his heels.

War let out a murderous howl as she was buried, and explosions started radiating out from her location, pops of gunfire to grenades as her ire built, struggling free. She emerged with one shoulder torn, limp, but that didn't seem to hinder the destruction, fire following him as he ran.

****

Molly wiped away a thick layer of grey dust from her eyes. She was covered from head to toe in it and almost blended in with all the rubble except for the hint of color from her hat that peeked out whenever a bit of wind blew the dust away. The ground erupted with a faint tremor under their feet, as the sounds of explosions in the distance drew her attention again. Hovering close by Wanda in case Famine returned she looked back.

"Can you move?" she said, still listening in case the explosions got closer. They needed to go. Really bad.

The older woman was propped up against the remains of the wall, eyes closed. Her face was streaked with dirt and blood and underneath it, what skin one could see, was as pale as the dust on Molly's face. Every square inch of her hurt in a way that almost seemed impossible and she could only remember so many times in her life that she had wanted to simply lay down and release her grip on the world, perfectly fine with the possibility of never opening her eyes again.

But her eyes did slowly open, revealing a broken world and an anxious looking Molly, and Wanda held out her hand to her. "Get me on my feet," she said slowly, voice strained, "and I will do the rest."

Molly frowned deeply, since Wanda looked very wobbly indeed, but nodded and took her hands. Her eyes glowed a bit purple as she pulled her up, since she was really tired herself. And she wanted to go home, a lot.

"Do you think he'll be back?"

"No, I do not believe he will be," Wanda replied, briefly leaning on Molly before forcing herself to take a step away. There was no way to hide the tremors that ran through her but she was up, it was a start. "The feedback he received from my powers - it hurt him worse than it did me." She gave a sharp smile. "And considering how I feel, I know he won't be back."

But that did not mean they would be left alone. "Come, let us move before his friends find us."

"Marius was scary. All evil and stuff," she said. She started to walk, not quite sure where to go. All the rubble made it hard to tell where the streets used to be.

"You can lean on me if you want? I don't mind."

She looked a lot tireder than her.

"Do you think the other bad guys are people we know too?"

It came, literally, from nowhere: the area of street which had been empty was suddenly occupied by a -- thing.

There was something of a shark about it, and something more of a squid; a hard, cephalopod-like mantel protected a region roughly analogous to a head, and its hunched form was dark with algae and rotting coral. It looked like something pulled from some long-drowned galleon.

And it was enormous. Towering over both women, it was on Molly in three lumbering strides and grabbed her with tentacled appendages large enough to encircle her torso, pinning her arms to her sides.

The monster thingy was fast. And looked like it should be in the water instead of with them. And Molly was really tired of fighting bad guys right now. She hoped maybe it didn't come cause she asked that question.

Molly narrowed her eyes, as a bright purple glow flared up and she clenched her fists.

"Go AWAY!" she yelled, bursting out of the monster's grip so hard it nearly ripped the tentacle apart. Rearing back, she punched the monster in the face region with a one-two punch, hard enough to leave a dent and to make it stagger backward

Wanda had managed to avoid the creature but barely. She'd jumped to the side, knowing (hoping) that Molly's invulnerability would bear the brunt of the attack - had the thing landed a blow on Wanda, she doubted she'd be standing. She rolled and regained her feet through the momentum alone.

Turning, she dove back in and raked a glowing red hand against the creature's side before she danced backwards. Her brief touch left a churning spot of entropic energy that started to eat away at where the ribs might be on a regular person.

It did eat away at the rubbery-looking skin of the creature, which melted, rather than burned or dissolved. The resulting goo was immensely familiar to Wanda - clear, sticky and evaporating into steam shortly after being exposed to air. But it stopped much too soon. Instead of the faux monster turning into several hundred gallons of slime, it roared, as if in pain and then stomped forward. Its feet were clawed, and covered in razor scales, and barely missed stomping down on both women.

From above them, the hole in its side rippled, and it bellowed again and tore at its own flesh, rending the hole in its side larger. The inside was black, and wet, and writhing, and from it came smaller versions of the creature.

Molly's eyes bugged out wide and she curled up her nose, trying really hard not to throw up because EW. She dove out of the way.

"Um..." she said, blinking a few times. She tilted her head and glanced to Wanda. "I didn't know your power made babies. Is that normal?"

"No, it is most certainly not normal," Wanda said grimly. Neither for her powers - though, granted, with her powers you never could tell - nor for the powers of the person that she now knew was behind this new attack. At least for the person Marie-Ange was back home.

Wanda tapped Molly on the shoulder and pointed away from the creature. "Run."

Molly blinked at her, then nodded. "Stay behind me, okay?" she said. Turning, she took off to run but as she did she noticed the giantest monster of them all in her way. Looking at it required her to lift her head all the way up.

"Uh--Wanda?" she yelled.

"I think the daddy monster is Godzilla."

Swooping in from the skies, Sam bowled over some of the miniature creatures that were in his way as he buzzed by them both. "Order is to retreat, stat!" He was still making the rounds, spreading the order verbally thanks to equipment failure, and after knocking some more of their assailants aside he took off as quick as he'd arrived.

"Oh thank fuck," Wanda hissed, grabbing Molly by the arm. "Go! As fast as you can and if you do not see me behind or next to you, do not stop." She pushed the girl hard to send her in front of her and Wanda followed closely, pushing her battered and exhausted body to go as fast as it could as the monsters of this new world trampled over each other in their eager attempts to get to them.

With Wanda and Molly alerted, Sam now had to track down Angelo and Haller. They were the final pair he had to find and he was hoping it wouldn't take very long, since he didn't want to stick around any longer than he had to himself. He had to find them first, though, and he scanned the area while soaring through the skies while still keeping an eye out for any would-be attackers.

His field of vision, unfortunately, did not cover the area directly over him. Something made of painfully sharp angles struck Sam like an anvil to the back, penetrating his forcefield. The X-Man's peripheral vision caught one grey arm as it whipped around his neck while a pain of legs locked around his waist. Over the wind and the sound of Sam's blast field a voice hissed in his ear, "Hello, Sam."

Then, using the arm around his victim's neck as leverage, Famine threw his weight to the side.

Sam's only real shot at getting him off was to knock him off, and with the additional weight on his back already pushing him downward he went with the flow. Diving down and twisting with the momentum Famine had started, Sam spiralled earthward and hoped his unwanted passenger would be detached in the process.

His attacker's grip tightened, and as it did a cold hand snaked around to slap against his collarbone. It was followed by a stab too sharp to be mere impact.

The X-Man's blast field began to stutter, and there was a brief but intense flash of heat at his back. The sensation dissipated as the two fields merged into one, and the hand against Sam's collarbone tightened.

"Your contribution is appreciated," Famine said.

"Funny, I don't 'member askin' for your opinion." he retorted, sharply turning to one side in hopes of detaching from Famine. Sam wasn't quite sure how they'd become coupled in the first place but he was pretty sure it was in his best interests to terminate that situation ASAP.

"I was being polite. You are treating me to dinner." The jerk did have an effect, though not the sort Sam had hoped for. Their trajectory gave an erratic wrench as his passenger generated a propulsive blast of his own that sent them into an uncontrolled spin. Famine's arm, already around Sam's neck, began to tighten as his other hand moved into position for a sleeper hold.

"Sadly, I have no use for leftovers."

Fighting back, Sam tried his best to break the hold. Turning his chin into the crook of Famine's choking arm, he raised his shoulders and bore down with his chin in an attempt to relieve some of the choking pressure.

Seeing the technique was less than successful, Famine changed tactics. He did not move his hands, but the fingers pressed against Sam's head and neck began to harden, developing sharper edges. Skin began to part beneath his grip. In a matter of moments the Horseman's touch would be sharp enough to cleave bone.

Neither of them were paying enough attention to avoid the building.

Sam took advantage of the imminent collision to try and ditch his assailant. They barrelled through the side of the building, and Sam angled them towards doorways and windows as they continued on through the structure, trying to scrape Famine off of him as they smashed through everything in sight.

Even Famine was subject to the cruelty of inertia. The concentration he'd been devoting to slowly sawing through Sam's skull and neck had been diverted from maintaining his balance; a glancing blow to a windowsill jarred him enough to reprioritize away from sharpening his skin, but not before the better part of a doorframe to the face detached most of his grip. A final weaving slalom through a tangle of exposed pipes and HVAC equipment dislodged the Horseman entirely.

The sudden absence of Famine's extra weight caused Sam to look over his shoulder for a split second to confirm his absence, something he normally wouldn't do while mid-flight. He was glad to see he'd shaken his assailant off but the momentary lack of concentration resulted in him barreling through a thick concrete wall. The impact would usually leave him unfazed, but in his weakened, distracted condition Sam flinched and his powers, having been drained to some degree by Famine, weren't able to handle the strain.

He blasted through all right but his forcefield blinked on and off once he was through and he plummeted to the ground, bouncing several times before rolling to a stop. Thankfully his shield was intermittently active and he wasn't that badly hurt, but the fall and the impact left him dazed and confused.

The sound of Sam and Famine's duel-impact barely evoked a flinch from the telepath leaning against Angelo as the two men struggled down the street. It was only one sound among many, and the drones at their back were a far more pressing concern. Haller was still shocky from the interrupted link with Pestilence, and though he could put one foot in front of the other it was still Angelo who had to supply the forward momentum. The one saving grace was that the phages did not seem entirely recovered from the assault on their master. Their phalanx-like tactics now became an obstruction: some drones would lock in place, disrupting the formation of their still-moving colleagues. Others appeared to lose their bearings for a few seconds and attempt to walk through the wall of a building they did not seem to see. It bought them some time.

Or it had. Whatever had afflicted the phages seemed to be leveling out, and they were now gaining speed.
"Legion, wake up before I find the East River and dunk you in it", Angelo gritted out, dragging the taller man forward as best he could. "I can't hold off Pestilence's things on my own."

There was a crack and flash of light above them, and part of a wall trailing wisps of flame toppled as they passed. The telekinesis behind the blow was weak, and the debris pinned only a single drone; the other phages were barely slowed.

"Sorry," Jim managed. "Can't seem to -- get us lined back up--"

The older man's foot caught on the lip of dislodged pavement and sent him stumbling from Angelo's grasp. One of the swifter drones seized the opportunity: a mantis-like appendage darted out and grabbed the telepath around the waist, yanking him back to the horde.

"Oh no you don't - " Angelo lashed out and sliced the appendage clean off, then pulled Haller back towards him. "Can you call to the others? Back-up would be good right about now."

The psi grunted at Angelo's yank even as he managed a blast to further drive back his attacker. Though effective, the result was not what he'd intended. The mantis-phage's exoskeleton buckled under the blow while another patch turned viscous, as if melting from extreme heat. He couldn't even tell which alter had launched the attack.

"No," he said aloud as he forced his legs to keep balance. "Powers so scrambled -- might boil their brains. We'd--"

This time it was Angelo who was ambushed: the phages seemed to have recognized him as the primary offensive force. One drone came at him from either side in a perfectly coordinate pincer attack, one of them seven feet of muscle, the other whipcord thin with elastically-loose joints. He had just enough time to see another fall on Haller before the blank-faced drones bore down on him like twin locomotives.

There was nothing he could do to help Haller any more. With one arm out of commission - except, of course, the skin - it was all Angelo could do was keep himself from being totally overwhelmed, and even that was a close-run thing. He twisted and flung the shorter of the two drones at the taller, gaining a moment's satisfaction from the way they got tangled and fell.

As the smaller drone twisted around his fellow Angelo detected a familiar sound. A quick glance confirmed the distinctive trail of Cannonball closing fast on the altercation.

The prospect of back-up was an enormous relief, and while the two drones tried to disentangle themselves, Angelo turned his attention off them and on to freeing Haller from his assailants.

The X-Man had managed to separate the arm from one drone and had roped the neck of another when the sound of Cannonball's blast field cut off. Angelo had just enough time to register something gaunt and dark falling towards him before the figure was upon them.

The figure landed precisely between Angelo and the phages, and in that exact moment the tendril holding the drone snapped free, cleaved cleanly down the middle.

Famine straightened from his landing crouch. He licked the blood from his talons and smiled. "At last," he said. "You've no idea the problems I've had finding an opponent who bleeds today."

...no one had ever cut him that easily since he'd manifested, and Angelo wasn't sure whether to be terrified or furious. Still, though, he'd never been one to show fear easily. He squared up to Famine without a step back.

"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't have killed them all, then."

"Point. Our conservation programs do leave something to be desired." Famine flexed a claw. "Ah well. I'll just have to enjoy this for the unique and precious experience it is."

With deceptive nonchalance, Famine raised a hand and gestured. Red light flared, the distinctive red of Wanda's chaos-energy, and the already ravaged street behind Angelo buckled as he exacerbated the structural infirmity of years of abuse. The pavement yawned with a spontaneous sinkhole, ensuring any attempt to retreat would be treacherous. The Horseman dropped his arm and shrugged.

"Of course, unique and precious does not presuppose fair."

"Always with the grandstanding." Angelo sneered at him and made his move, pelting Famine with scores of rocks and debris pieces that he'd been latching onto with his remaining skin strips while they talked. Some of them were quite large.

Famine absorbed the damage with barely a twitch. "'Grandstanding'?" He quirked an eyeridge at the X-Man and smirked. "Skin, against you I am barely required to be vertical."

As if on cue, Sam soared downward at Famine, screaming down at him from directly overhead. He was the hammer and Famine was the nail, at least that was the theory, and Sam lined himself up as squarely and directly as possible. He knew his target was as nigh upon invulnerable as he was with his powers activated, but with any luck Sam's strike would stun Famine and perhaps even lodge him into the ground, buying them some much needed time.

The impact was great enough even the swarming phages were jarred. The same damaged infrastructure and deep-running tunnels that had benefited Famine in his fight against Wanda now crumbled beneath the Horseman to result in a hole even greater than the X-Man had anticipated. Though equally durable, only one man was in control of his descent. That man was not Famine.

Angelo stared, then burst into semi-hysterical laughter. "Cannonball, good timing! And excellent work."

"Thank you kindly, good sir." Sam landed and graced Angelo with a grin and a slight bow. "Now we..." He stopped when he detected movement from a stack of nearby drones. It took a second for it to click that it was Haller underneath them, and Sam started knocking them off carefully so as not to hurt their teammate.
Attracted by the more active targets, the phages began to split forces once more, grabbing for any skin-tendrils Angelo deployed while resorting to the more direct method of swarming against his teammate. Fortunately the strategy never had the chance to escalate; the half dozen drones that remained on the telekinetic's small shield abruptly rocketed off. Many of them into other drones.

There were a few chaotic moments as a handful of the black-suited entities appeared to be lifted by an invisible hand and slammed against their fellows over and over like an anthropomorphic game of whack-a-mole. What drones Sam and Angelo could not clear, their own colleagues did.

The newly unearthed psi staggered to his feet to regard his teammates. His hand snapped out behind him; visible evidence that he was now holding a shield against any of the drones that might still be functional. Though sweating with the effort, his expression was focused again.

"Took a while to get our head back together," said Jack. He glanced at Angelo's bleeding arm, Sam's general look of dishevelment, and the fresh hole in the ground. "The fuck happened?"

"Famine happened", Angelo said succinctly. "And then Cannonball happened to him."

"I'll fill you both in later, but for now we need to get the hell out of Dodge." Sam said, brushing some dust off of himself before realizing how futile an effort was. He was going to need a week or thereabouts in a nice, relaxing bathtub before he'd feel anywhere near clean after all of that, but that could wait. For now they had to get while the getting was good.

There was a strangely garbled roar from down the street. The three men caught a glimpse of something massive and mono-eyed moving through the buildings, followed closely by a flare of crimson chaos energy. An instant later the creature stumbled and fell at an angle suggesting something significantly smaller but very powerful had taken out an ankle.

Molly and Wanda. On their way, but with attackers hard on their heels. Even as the cyclops fell airborne creatures appeared in the air. They circled close enough that the dessicated, humanoid faces and torsos were visible through the shower of worm-eaten feathers.

Haller gave the phages behind his shield one final, violent push before switching back to Jim. A quick brush of his colleagues' minds was enough to reorient him -- and enough to tell him that Sam was right. So far no one had been fatally injured, but that could change at any moment.

Rachel had told them to stay alive.

Using the redhead's general direction as a starting point, the telepath pushed directions to the group and started for the laboratory.