Lost and Found, part eight: Clash of the Titans

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One last duel for two latter-day Spartan champions. Nathan and Morgan are very busy obliterating the landscape around them when something unexpected happens - or is it, really?


Away from the helicopter. Away from the children, MacInnis' people, his team... that was all the logical, reasoned thought Nathan was capable of as he grappled with Morgan, the firebird-shaped exoskeleton both harder and easier to use than he'd expected.

There was no talking, this time. No baiting, no attempts at conversation, no expressions of regret. Just light blazing around them, impossible levels of force building between them as they locked minds just as their exoskeletons had locked claws.

Morgan could taste blood at the back of his throat, the pain in his head swelling as feedback lashed across his mind. Not possible, he thought faintly. Nathan had never managed an exoskeleton before, had always told him that it was a specific manifestation of Morgan's own mutation, not something that could be duplicated...

And yet, there was a big-ass fiery bird right the fuck there.

Morgan lost his anchoring points, his hold on the lines of force first, and Nathan gritted his teeth and threw him, exoskeleton and all, at a stand of trees. Heading away from the helicopter, still. Trees broke like toothpicks, but the exoskeleton stayed steady, buffering Morgan from most of the shock of impact. He was back up almost immediately, thundering towards Nathan, nothing but grim determination on the face barely visible through the golden glow.

Nathan launched himself at him, a dead woman's memories of flying like this coursing through his mind, guiding him. He snatched at Morgan again, glowing talons out, trying to shred the other man's exoskeleton. Not enough. Didn't have the force to cut through, and a great clawed fist suddenly smashed him out of the sky and to the ground.

Morgan backed away as soon as Nathan was down, rather than pressing the attack. His tactical imperatives were still reeling, trying to process this new wrinkle. The conclusion they came to - full-frontal assault - didn't surprise him, and as much as he wanted to rage at the stupidity, he couldn't see any immediate alternative. Couldn't afford to be taken down, not with the situation this unpredictable. Konstantakis wasn't suited to command, and the directors wouldn't put up with another failure. They might not punish him - they still needed him - but the others?

#Make your own wind,# Askani hissed at Nathan and he drove himself upwards, out of Morgan's reach. He whirled sharply, one wing smashing into Morgan's exoskeleton and slamming him back to the ground. Before he could get back up, Nathan dove at him, talons scraping the exoskeleton, glowing more fiercely red-gold as Nathan poured more power into them, trying to force his way through.

Something gave way, but the feedback was suddenly doubled, tripled, an explosion of wild force sending him hurtling away again, hitting the ground so hard that he felt it, even through the exoskeleton. He could see the lines of force warp and twist, billowing upwards with a silent roar. Trees shimmered into glass and exploded around them, and the ground trembled.

Morgan snarled and stumbled shakily back to his feet, pouring more power into his exoskeleton, holding nothing back. So Nathan had a new trick - so what? He had years of experience, fighting like this, years Nathan didn't have. He charged the still-prone firebird, claws closing around one wing and pulling, even as he brought the foot of his exoskeleton down in a vicious stomp. Nathan's exoskeleton shimmered and rippled wildly around the point of impact, and even as the feedback began to build again, crackling between them, Morgan kept up the pressure.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all, Nathan thought, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood as Morgan did his almighty best to tear his exoskeleton apart around him. Fuck, this hurt... He tried to strengthen the exoskeleton, but Askani was snarling at him again, telling him to...

Morgan didn't even get the chance to curse as all of the force that had been holding Nathan's exoskeleton together was suddenly directed outwards instead of held in place. Airborne again, was his single disjointed thought before he came crashing back to earth, trees snapping beneath his exoskeleton again.

Gasping, Nathan stumbled back to his feet, forming the firebird around him again instinctively. All that subconscious practice had done some good. He launched himself at Morgan once more, but Morgan was already getting back up, reaching out...

Claws locked with claws again, both exoskeletons rippling brightly at the points of contact. Nathan could see Morgan's face set in a near-inhuman mask of strain, blood trickling from his nose, his eyes visibly glowing even through the exoskeleton's light.

Morgan had been working with his exoskeleton for twenty years.

Nathan was the stronger telekinetic.

Deadlock. Only not.

Neither exoskeleton could sustain this much pressure for that long, not with the feedback. One minute they were holding up, the next they were exploding, shattering under the stress. Nathan and Morgan were both flung away like rag dolls as the shockwave blasted through the forest around them. Great streamers of light spiraled upwards into the storm, red-gold like the firebird and a paler gold like Morgan's exoskeleton. Nathan hit the ground hard and for a moment couldn't see anything for the way the lines of force around him were shuddering. There was a hissing noise around him, and he realized that it was snow evaporating, that the ground beneath him was changing to something hard and smooth and...

Glass.

Part of him realized, then, just how much they were pushing it. But he had maybe a half-second to hope that there was no one in range of the worst of the spillover effects before Morgan was back on his feet and coming at him again, the exoskeleton reforming around him, if sluggishly.

He wouldn't stop, Nathan realized. Couldn't stop, even if he'd wanted to. With his shield or on it. "No," he muttered, pushing himself back to his feet and concentrating on the firebird desperately, even as he reached out telepathically for the first time since the beginning of their duel.

He knew where the triggers should be. He reached in and around them, even as Morgan slammed into him, knocking him back to the ground, and reached down to tear at his exoskeleton again. #Tim!# he projected desperately, the contact flickering in and out. But children had broken Mick's conditioning, and maybe they could do the same for Tim... #You don't want to take them back,# he projected fiercely, tapping into Madelyn and Hank's minds for images of the children's faces, throwing them at the younger man. #You don't want to take them back, not to die...# The bodybags from Vermont, from Belgium, all right there at the forefront of his mind, and...

Singing. Singing in his mind, suddenly, singing and an explosion of light that leapt across the connection between them, leapt almost joyfully.

~Thy songs were made for the pure and free...~

A scream caught in Nathan's throat, all of his thoughts splintering like a million, million pieces of stained glass under the force of the thing that tore out of his subconscious and into Morgan's mind. He lost his grip on his telekinesis, somehow felt Morgan do the same. Power, pure power slipping all restraints. Tearing at the fabric of the world around them, shattering every pattern it touched.

~...they shall never sound in slavery!~

White light blotted out the world.

Nathan, blinded in an instant, his mind in shock, couldn't see the shockwave tearing apart the forest around him. His last half-formed thought was that the ground was vanishing, collapsing beneath him, and that wasn't...

Then he fell.

Then, nothing.

---


After the final explosion, Alison finds herself in the remains of a forest made of glass. She makes her way down into the crater to Nathan and Morgan and discovers, incredibly, that they're both alive.


The sharp, jagged sound of glass cracking slowly underfoot was just one of the many surrounding Alison as she made her way slowly towards the edge of the crater. Branches snapping from the still howling winds, flung to the ground harshly and shattering instantly upon impact. Rage was still faintly reflected on every surface though there was no heat, no fire itself that remained, the light slowly fading to shades of white and blue again, the sky black above her. Another cautious step and this time a harsh protest greeted her as the glass crumbled underfoot, sending her skidding to the floor, as it were. Hands hitting what had previously been a rock, Alison stared at her reflection for a moment, the snow blowing across it with an eerie wail. And then pushed herself up, to cross the final distance between herself and the sharp edge gleaming a few feet away, before the ground dove downward and out of sight.

Down in the crater were two limp forms, both in black, both not moving. Morgan was sprawled face-down, energy shimmering weakly around him, blood on the glass shards beneath his ungloved hands. Nathan was a few feet away, but on his back, and patterns in light eddied upwards from his body, like curling smoke.

Glass skittered underfoot, sending her sprawling more than once as she made her way down the sharper incline, the suit saving her yet again from unpleasant injuries, but Alison didn't care. Morgan had to be turned around, now. She tried to get as many details in as she could as she approached them, not as careful as she should be and nearly falling anew as she finally reached the prone forms. Hands ghosting oh so cautiously over the body of the Mistra team leader, enough emergency medical field training allowing her to discern that no, nothing vital was broken and turning him around to get his face away from the glass was a good idea, Alison did just that, careful to keep the ground underneath his neck clear of any jagged edges.

She paused then, the wind buffeting her and sending myriad splinters of glass into a demented carillon around her, echoing back and forth until it faded, only to start a new round once more. Was this what it had been like for Nathan, when he'd retrieved her from the ruined mall, she wondered dazedly, before scrambling towards him, his breath still rising in somewhat irregular puffs a clear sign of life.

Nathan twitched feebly as she approached, his eyelids fluttering briefly. Blood was trickling sluggishly from his nose and ears, tear-tracks in blood on his face. Sensation, perception, it all seemed curiously scrambled, his thoughts firing erratically, all the patterns falling to pieces. Part of him was distantly aware of Alison bending over him, but there was a voice singing in his mind, the same verse over and over again.

~The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's steel
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder...~

Flashes of a song kept echoing in her ears through the storm, causing Alison to look around worriedly, until she realized that it wasn't someone out there at all - she looked down, hesitantly kneeling by Nathan to watch him for a moment, peeling off a glove to take his vitals. And his lips moved now and then, echoing the snatches he was projecting now and then, unawares.

~This is Dazzler. Whoever isn't engaged is to fall back on me now. Sending up a flare.~

Nathan twitched as Alison touched him, his eyelids fluttering again. "No song," he muttered thickly. "No song... sully thee... Tim?" He coughed, choking on blood, but started to stir a little more, if in an uncoordinated sort of way, his limbs jumping as if mild electrical shocks were running through his body.

Across from him, Morgan was breathing, but nothing else.

~Cable is down.~

Alison rested one hand on his shoulder, flinching in sympathetic reaction. "He's out. Breathing. Nothing major that I could see." The wind nearly carried her voice away and she shivered a bit, though not from the cold. They were close enough to each other that she could warm them up though and Alison did just that, light flooding the area around them, ready to turn it into a shield if need be. "Mac's crew and the kids are safe. Hank and Madelyn are with them. We're moving out now."

It was, indeed, time to go.

~Get MacInnis and his team to the 'bird, the kids, too.~ A quiet call on the command channel resulted in static. ~Kylun? Find Jetstream. Bring him back as well. Nightcrawler, I need you here asap. Hurry up.~

"Horse... Trojan Horse..." Nathan managed, his lips feeling oddly numb, even as he started to struggle back to something approaching coherency. ~Thy songs were made for the pure and free,~ the voice sang in his mind, and he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

She glanced at Morgan again and nodded at Nathan, accompanying the gesture with a light touch to his cheek as she realized he wasn't going to hear her. A voice whispered on her comm, indicating it shouldn't be long now. "He's breathing and fine. Back-up is heading over here now, we'll have you on the 'bird in no time." It wasn't even about what she was saying, so much as giving him something to focus on.

Together. Had to pull it together. He was still on-site. Training that ran deeper than any conditioning kicked in, and he drew on pure willpower, forcing his eyes open. "Help... help me up," he said, the words coming out slurred. "W-Walking out of here..." The others would need help. The kids. Tim. Pain ballooned in his head as he tried to move, and he bit back a soft cry.

"Try and move right now and I will sit on you." The words came out far more flatly than she intended them to, and the implicit order in them was unmistakable and uncompromising. "Stay where you are. Don't move. I'm right here, Morgan is right there and our teammates are on their way."