The Dark Phoenix - Log 21

[x-gambit.livejournal.com]

Jean confronts the Dark Phoenix directly and finds more than she bargained for



As she alighted in what remained of the sub-basement the Dark Phoenix flicked the last fragments of liquid metal and melted circuitry from her neck like drops of water. Earlier she had walked the astral equivalent of these hallways: the psychic aggregation of the residents' perceptions and Xavier's own defenses. Now she was here in the flesh, flame springing from every footstep.

A negligent wave of the hand tore free the door that guarded Cerebro's inner chamber. Dayspring's daughter had all but destroyed the infrastructure, but despite minor variations Cerebro was always Cerebro. Loose wiring slithered back into place; circuitry reknit and shattered panels fused, restoring themselves to pristine functionality. The damage was repaired before she'd even cleared the walkway.

"Oh, Charles," she sighed as she reached the figure slumped at the control station. "Just once, I'd like to be surprised." Without ceremony, the Dark Phoenix plucked Cerebro from his head. Xavier's only response was a limp roll of the neck.

She noticed the only other body on the walkway and wrinkled her nose. "Oh, there you are, Emma. Well, you might be interesting. Maybe I'll let you live and the two of you can share a cell in the asylum. Or perhaps I'll shatter you again. Diamonds are a little cliché, but for you I'll make an exception. There is something to be said for the spoils of war. First things first, however..."

A fiery talon picked up Emma's limp form and positioned it Charles' lap, the woman's legs straddling the arm-rests, her arms draped around his neck in the parody of an embrace. The Dark Phoenix smirked. "There. Don't say I never did you any favors, old man. For the time being, though, I need the room." With a flick of her fingers the wheelchair sped backwards and into the hall, leaving the chamber clear.

Humming tunelessly, Jean's doppelganger ran her hands across the helmet's slick surface. Strange how similar the design was throughout the myriad worlds she'd visited. Strange, and predictable.

Well, it would be over soon. It always was.

The Dark Phoenix shook back her hair and donned Cerebro. Engaging the machine took no effort at all; Charles had already thoughtfully removed the limiters for her.

The astral plane beyond the immediate vicinity was still unspoiled. Mutant minds glowed, pinpricks of light in her mind's eye. Like a fisherman tightening a net she began with the ones furthest away. Each mind was like a hook in the world, each miniscule existence another barb in reality. She drew the minds to her, taking their lives into her own, and as she did the astral plane began to churn.

One mind in particular suddenly seemed to outshine the others as it drew near, one very familiar to the woman at Cerebro. In the doorway, the rightful Jean Grey stood, the air around her bathed in flame.

"Get Out. Of. My. House," she said. In that moment she had flung the door to Cerebro at her alternate self, knowing it wouldn't connect but using that time to telekinetically deposit Charles and Emma away from Cerebro and as far down the hall as she could manage.

The flung door exploded into nothingness, obliterated by the Dark Phoenix's protective aura. Only then did the woman in the heart of Cerebro turn.

"Alone at last," she said, smiling. This close the differences between the two were obvious. Still in her twenties, the alternate's expression and posture were etched with the careless invincibility of the young. The hair that peeked from beneath the helmet was longer, wilder; it whipped around her as if caught in a perpetual breeze. Even beneath the flames her skin glowed as if lit from within.

The double regarded Jean with lambent green eyes. "I was starting to think this would be one of those times you just crumpled into a ball of tears and self-loathing," she remarked, completely unfazed by the other woman's show of power. "I'm glad I can still surprise me."

Falling silent a moment, Jean stared back at her other self like she were looking into a mirror. Suddenly the lights around Cerebro started to flicker as the console in front of the Dark Phoenix was ripped off the platform and the integral circuitry around it was pulled out and yanked apart, sparks flying everywhere. The room suddenly went dark.

Jean knew Cerebro like the back of her hand. She was the one who had made the repairs. And she knew the Dark Phoenix couldn't do whatever she needed to do without it.

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

The Dark Phoenix only laughed, wresting control from Jean like an adult taking a toy from a naughty child. The console and its fragments froze in mid-air, then rapidly began to reintegrate. Split wires and shattered circuits joined back together; the system stabilized immediately. It had taken only a heartbeat. The doppelganger smiled.

"Oh, honey," said the Dark Phoenix, tapping Cerebro knowingly, "I've already seen them all."

And she struck.

The Dark Phoenix had begun at the outer reaches of her range. Now she had an audience -- an audience with a vested interest in the lives nearer to hand. The talons of the alternate's firebird split from two into dozens, spider-like and twisted, and darted to close around the pinpricks of light that represented all that remained of Xavier's final line of defense.

In those days after the destruction of Muir Island, even in the minutes afterward, Jean had sensed her powers growing by leaps and bounds as if they had been kindled by a fire. Her mind had expanded, to the point where she could feel the reach of the entire world if she tried. As she arrived closer to the Dark Phoenix's presence she had come to understand why: those who bore the name Jean Grey were nearly all but extinct. This woman had seen to that in the swathe she had cut across the dimensions in an attempt to amass the sheer power that was the Phoenix.

Now that reality was splitting apart, worlds bleeding into one another, the Phoenix had almost become sieved into the two of them. As a result, she could sense what the Dark Phoenix was trying to do, and, almost like the crossing of swords, extended protection around those at the mansion from her enemy with a telepathic shield around their minds like armor.

It was a harsh decision, for she knew that keeping those at the mansion alive was at the expense of those that the Dark Phoenix was culling to try to add to her own strength. But she could not save them all, even with the power she had. To keep the people at the mansion alive meant they could help stop the Dark Phoenix if possible. Admittedly, it was also a selfish act as well.

"Not going to happen," she said.

The doppelganger regarded her almost quizzically. "Have you even thought about why you're doing this?" she asked, not displaying so much as a muscle twitch to indicate Jean's counter was any more than a minor inconvenience. The younger woman gestured to the grounds above them. "Even if you're not ready to admit it you must have sensed it by now. These people, everyone you're fighting for -- they're nothing. As flies to wanton boys are they to us, and those that don't already understand that will soon. Do you think they'll overlook what you did to Erik and the Brotherhood just because you took a stand here? They'll never forget what you've done." The psychic vise tightened against Jean's shield. "Or what you're capable of."

Jean braced herself, shoring up her mental defenses against the pressure. She knew it was low tide, and high tide was coming in.

"What you seem to have is a failure of understanding. These people are my family. They are the ones I love. They are the ones I've died for. And they would die for me," she said, holding steadfast. She would not falter for anything. Not for this. Not with them at stake. If she could do anything she would save them.

"Some of them already have. You'll never get that. You'll never HAVE that. And I pity you. Because I know you've heard it so many times before. Because it's true. You can try to pretend, try to snuff out every voice that portrays you as something once resembling human, but at the end of the day you'll always be alone."

The Dark Phoenix just looked at her. Her expression didn't change, but something in her voice did. It might have been pity -- or something else.

"You're new to this," she said, "so I'm sure that's what you believe. But give it time. We aren't like the rest of the world. Alone? Enough time with this power, to find what you're truly capable of, and you'd understand that when all is said and done I might as well be." She tilted her head, a thought occurring. "Although... I suppose that doesn't necessarily have to be the case. I could make you an offer."

"I have lived longer than you," Jean said. "I have seen sorrow and heartbreak. And boundless joy. And endless wonder. And the people I love saw me through. I would trade power for that, any day. Power can destroy, but it can also be used to create. You let your power corrupt you, without love, without someone to guide you. I am so sorry. Under better circumstances, I would've tried to reason with you. But I have seen your mind. You are beyond reason. And I cannot let you exist any longer in this world."

The Phoenix flared up again, and shot at the other raptor, letting out an unearthly scream.

The Dark Phoenix's beautiful face twisted, sharp and sudden as a switchblade. The firebirds slammed together, slashing at each other with curved beaks and searing talons.

"Me exist?" the younger woman snarled, her aura flaring. "Do you know how many times you've begged for the privilege of joining me? Do you have any idea how many worlds you've fallen to your knees and pleaded for your life? The promises you've made if only I would spare you? You sad, pathetic woman, don't presume to lecture me about power. You, who uses a senile old man's worn-out philosophy as her excuse to deny her own birthright? You, who couldn't even give her husband a child?"

Through Cerebro the Dark Phoenix was still linked to countless minds, and she did not share Jean's concern for protecting them. Each strike fell heavier than the last as she pulled from the vast pool of power they offered, heedless of the dozens upon dozens of lives that paid for every blow. They were less than nothing.

Flamed feathers blackening with power, the enemy phoenix reared back with a triumphant scream. The beautiful pretense was gone; now it writhed with heat, hundred-eyed and hundred-clawed, a grotesque amalgamation of power stolen from countless murdered selves. The woman at the center gave a final, cruel smile.

"If you love this world so much, burn with it."

Lighting-fast, the beak pierced the breast of the other phoenix and closed around Jean with a snap.

Where the beak touched Jean's skin, fire radiated outward, illuminating Jean's veins from within. Clenching her fists together, the fire snaked upward and soon began to light her eyes from within as smoke poured from her body.

She was being burned alive.