The Dark Phoenix - Log 23
Jan. 21st, 2015 12:13 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThe final showdown between the Jeans takes place
1, 2, 3....1, 2, 3.... the minds the Dark Phoenix touched around the door swayed and dropped like a macabre waltz before bursting into flames like kindling. Jean could feel them all, the dead, the protected, all vying for her attention, even as the Dark Phoenix tried to immolate her from within. She knew her weakness. Or at least, her perception of one.
It was a pain she had never felt before, to have her mind stretched thin, and every cell of her body infused with fire. It was nothing like dying the first time. That was quick, a burst of pain before...nothing. This was slow, agonizing. It was all she could do to keep from screaming, even as the tears poured down her face but disappeared into steam as quickly as they came.
There was something she didn't tell them when they arrived at the mansion to confront her dark doppelganger. It had taken her time to accept it. But from the moment she had sensed her presence in this reality she had known what her fate would be. There was no other way but this.
In this moment, it was Jean Grey's turn to laugh softly, even as smoke poured from her eyes.
The Dark Phoenix regarded her with lofty scorn. "I see you've finally made your peace," she observed in a bored tone. "Well, death is a part of life. Most of you realize that in the end. That's precisely why you never ascended -- you still think like a mortal, and like all mortals you will die a mean, pointless death. I am a god."
Still clenching Jean's smoldering body in the beak of her burning construct, the Dark Phoenix reached through Cerebro to draw the life from the last of the lights in her grasp.
"I am fire incarnate, and you are nothing but fuel for my pyre."
Jean lifted her head. "Expecting death means you have something to lose. It means you have to find a way to survive. I have no intention of doing that. But I have every intention to ensure that the ones I love do." Parts of her skin were starting to burn away, revealing the muscle and bone underneath. The pain would have been excruciating, but somehow, her mind had moved past it. She could feel it no longer.
Perhaps the Dark Phoenix was wrong about which Jean was ascending. Jean locked eyes with the would-be god, her smile widening into a grin.
"Let this mortal show you how it's done."
It took the turn of her hand, something that would have almost been impossible only a week before: a matter of switching the consciousness of one mind with another. In the moment that passed, both of their perspectives had changed. But it did not stave off the inevitability that both Jean Greys were not long for this world.
Jean felt the rush of power as her mind slipped in like an uncomfortable shoe. Her first act was to stop extinguishing any more minds, even as she felt the build of psionic energy growing bigger. There was no stopping it. It would consume them all.
The discomfort Jean felt was nothing compared to the experience of her double. It had been so long since she felt pain -- real, physical pain -- she had all but forgotten what it was like to experience it first-hand. Frantically the Dark Phoenix fought to snuff the fire eating at her tissues, but the body she found herself in was already past the point of no return. Her senses were filled with the stench of burning hair and charred flesh, and she realized with horror it was her own.
Desperate now she scrambled to escape to the astral plane, but no sooner had she fled the agony of her body then she found herself faced with the void. It was no longer she who was linked to Cerebro and the vast network of minds. Now it was she, not Jean, left grasping for the edge the psychic chasm even as the vacuum of all the lives she'd ended seized her like an undertow. It was she, not Jean, the darkness began to swallow.
Through it all she saw her own face above her, bright and beautiful and limed with flame, gazing down at her with something like pity. With a noise something like a scream, something like a sob, she stretched her blackened fingers and reached out.
In her final moments, the woman who had called herself the Dark Phoenix finally understood what it was like to kneel before a god.
Jean regarded her alternate self with a mixture of sadness and judgment. It was a strange, disturbing sensation to see herself from someone else's eyes. To watch her own body burn away, claimed by the flames. But it marked a sense of knowledge, knowledge that the time had come. That the greatest threat they had ever known so far had passed.
"Now you are... fire incarnate," she said. She reached out to touch the other woman's fingers with her own, but they fell to ash. The weight of what remained of her body was too much to remain standing with nothing to keep balance. The Dark Phoenix's body, once her body, toppled over and tendrils of smoke and cinders wafted into the breeze.
Jean stared at herself for a couple of moments, knowing that moments was all she had left. And that was okay. The time she had with the people she loved was well spent. It was the ultimate sacrifice, one she had made before, one she was making again. The Dark Phoenix was right. Death was a part of life. Perhaps that was her greatest gift: to be life incarnate, giving her own to ensure that others would remain. Now and forever.
She could feel something stirring from within, and knew that the pressure from the psionic energy had reached its peak. A warm, white glow had now diffused her skin from underneath, and it had started to grow brighter. Staring down at her hands, the tendrils of energy wafted from cracks in her skin, washing over her like a comforting caress.
This amount of power had the ability to wipe out everything, and she could sense that reality had strained past its breaking point. But somehow, in that moment, she could see beyond now. And she knew what was coming. For her. For her friends, her family. The world.
And she was not afraid. Because they would all be safe.
The psionic energy swelled, and soon burst from her in all directions, washing over her like a tidal wave. Jean Grey smiled.
The world went white.
1, 2, 3....1, 2, 3.... the minds the Dark Phoenix touched around the door swayed and dropped like a macabre waltz before bursting into flames like kindling. Jean could feel them all, the dead, the protected, all vying for her attention, even as the Dark Phoenix tried to immolate her from within. She knew her weakness. Or at least, her perception of one.
It was a pain she had never felt before, to have her mind stretched thin, and every cell of her body infused with fire. It was nothing like dying the first time. That was quick, a burst of pain before...nothing. This was slow, agonizing. It was all she could do to keep from screaming, even as the tears poured down her face but disappeared into steam as quickly as they came.
There was something she didn't tell them when they arrived at the mansion to confront her dark doppelganger. It had taken her time to accept it. But from the moment she had sensed her presence in this reality she had known what her fate would be. There was no other way but this.
In this moment, it was Jean Grey's turn to laugh softly, even as smoke poured from her eyes.
The Dark Phoenix regarded her with lofty scorn. "I see you've finally made your peace," she observed in a bored tone. "Well, death is a part of life. Most of you realize that in the end. That's precisely why you never ascended -- you still think like a mortal, and like all mortals you will die a mean, pointless death. I am a god."
Still clenching Jean's smoldering body in the beak of her burning construct, the Dark Phoenix reached through Cerebro to draw the life from the last of the lights in her grasp.
"I am fire incarnate, and you are nothing but fuel for my pyre."
Jean lifted her head. "Expecting death means you have something to lose. It means you have to find a way to survive. I have no intention of doing that. But I have every intention to ensure that the ones I love do." Parts of her skin were starting to burn away, revealing the muscle and bone underneath. The pain would have been excruciating, but somehow, her mind had moved past it. She could feel it no longer.
Perhaps the Dark Phoenix was wrong about which Jean was ascending. Jean locked eyes with the would-be god, her smile widening into a grin.
"Let this mortal show you how it's done."
It took the turn of her hand, something that would have almost been impossible only a week before: a matter of switching the consciousness of one mind with another. In the moment that passed, both of their perspectives had changed. But it did not stave off the inevitability that both Jean Greys were not long for this world.
Jean felt the rush of power as her mind slipped in like an uncomfortable shoe. Her first act was to stop extinguishing any more minds, even as she felt the build of psionic energy growing bigger. There was no stopping it. It would consume them all.
The discomfort Jean felt was nothing compared to the experience of her double. It had been so long since she felt pain -- real, physical pain -- she had all but forgotten what it was like to experience it first-hand. Frantically the Dark Phoenix fought to snuff the fire eating at her tissues, but the body she found herself in was already past the point of no return. Her senses were filled with the stench of burning hair and charred flesh, and she realized with horror it was her own.
Desperate now she scrambled to escape to the astral plane, but no sooner had she fled the agony of her body then she found herself faced with the void. It was no longer she who was linked to Cerebro and the vast network of minds. Now it was she, not Jean, left grasping for the edge the psychic chasm even as the vacuum of all the lives she'd ended seized her like an undertow. It was she, not Jean, the darkness began to swallow.
Through it all she saw her own face above her, bright and beautiful and limed with flame, gazing down at her with something like pity. With a noise something like a scream, something like a sob, she stretched her blackened fingers and reached out.
In her final moments, the woman who had called herself the Dark Phoenix finally understood what it was like to kneel before a god.
Jean regarded her alternate self with a mixture of sadness and judgment. It was a strange, disturbing sensation to see herself from someone else's eyes. To watch her own body burn away, claimed by the flames. But it marked a sense of knowledge, knowledge that the time had come. That the greatest threat they had ever known so far had passed.
"Now you are... fire incarnate," she said. She reached out to touch the other woman's fingers with her own, but they fell to ash. The weight of what remained of her body was too much to remain standing with nothing to keep balance. The Dark Phoenix's body, once her body, toppled over and tendrils of smoke and cinders wafted into the breeze.
Jean stared at herself for a couple of moments, knowing that moments was all she had left. And that was okay. The time she had with the people she loved was well spent. It was the ultimate sacrifice, one she had made before, one she was making again. The Dark Phoenix was right. Death was a part of life. Perhaps that was her greatest gift: to be life incarnate, giving her own to ensure that others would remain. Now and forever.
She could feel something stirring from within, and knew that the pressure from the psionic energy had reached its peak. A warm, white glow had now diffused her skin from underneath, and it had started to grow brighter. Staring down at her hands, the tendrils of energy wafted from cracks in her skin, washing over her like a comforting caress.
This amount of power had the ability to wipe out everything, and she could sense that reality had strained past its breaking point. But somehow, in that moment, she could see beyond now. And she knew what was coming. For her. For her friends, her family. The world.
And she was not afraid. Because they would all be safe.
The psionic energy swelled, and soon burst from her in all directions, washing over her like a tidal wave. Jean Grey smiled.
The world went white.
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