Warnings (from Min): Lots of . . . stuff happens. A little bloody. But then it's a battle. The real warning is for readers to hang on to their hats. Pax is about to take you for a real rollercoaster ride. What an ending!

Notes: The first idea was Min's and she's nice enough to let us all play in her sandbox. But the toys still belong to Marvel. We ain't makin' any money with this.

Ever since she saw him in the flesh, looked into those dark, bottomless eyes, her mind had been hazy, clouded, flashing between dream and reality. The Shadow Eyes had come. Her nightmares had come true.

Dani looked around from her spot on the floor of the small root cellar, dazed. Alex had shoved her to the ground in his panicked hurry to escape. He had run out only moments ago, searing heat pouring from him, an ominous yellow-white glow radiating from his skin. She was afraid for him, wanted to go to him, but a strange sense of lethargy had seized her. Like a waking dream.

Voices? Were those women talking?

The dark, hairy man who could make knives come from the back of his hands was yelling something angrily into his collar and shaking his hand. He'd tried to stop Alex from leaving. On the floor behind him lay the two redheads, still unconscious. The little girl, awake and oddly silent, was clutching desperately to one of them, vaguely feline face pinched with fear. Dani looked at the two women, eyes blank, thoughts whirling.

Shadow Eyes seemed to want the two women. The two women who had glowed strangely. Spoken strangely. Spoken? They hadn't said more than "who's there?" to each other before falling into this state, had they? But she remembered their voices too, merged, melded. A chant of some kind. Resurrection. Life. Phoenix.

Dani stood up. Walked over to the women. Knelt beside the skinnier one. The one who had introduced herself as Madelyne lay beyond her. It was eerie. If not for the difference in hair and a little weight, they might have been the same woman. Twins.

The little girl looked up at her, her cat-bright eyes wide, solemn. She found herself smiling gently back.

"It's okay, sweetie," she said softly, not knowing why she said it. Because it wasn't okay. She could hear rapid gunfire and snarls and the roar of wind from above. The people -- Alex's brother's companions -- they were fighting. Maybe dying. And Alex was up there.

Dani looked down at the two women. They were out so hard they looked dead. Utterly still. Barely breathing. She reached out a hand to feel the skinny woman's pulse, just to make sure.

Her vision strobed and the woman beside her was clothed in heat-less fire, radiant and fierce. The wings of a great bird stretched away from her, enveloping the cellar, the dark man, the child . . . everyone. She blinked and looked at the other woman -- and saw not one shape, but two. One a dark-haired girl-child, arms spread wide, a smile of relief and infinite joy on her face, the other a kneeling image of a red-haired woman, embracing her, her own face lifted in exultation. Then another flash and the firebird reached for the other two, wrapping them protectively in its great wings.

She reeled back as a hard hand caught her shoulder. Squeezed sharply.

"What the hell are you doin'?" a harsh male voice said.

"I -- I'm not . . I don't . . . ." she gasped, feeling oddly drained, dizzy.

"What the fuck was that?"

"You saw it too?"

He glared at her, narrowed gaze searching hers suspiciously. "Saw somethin' -- didn't smell anything."

Their short staring match ended when a thunderous explosion rocked everything around them. Dirt and bits of wood rained down on them. They both leaned forward over the two women, covering them instinctively. The little girl burrowed closer to her mother, under the arch of the dark-haired man's body. Not intimidated by him at all, it seemed. He leaped up as soon as the room stopped shaking, teeth bared, fists clenched.

"Shit! Somethin' big just blew. "

"Alex!" Dani cried, lunging frantically toward the rickety stairs.

"Whoa! Kid!" He caught her around the waist, spinning her with ridiculous ease back into the depths of the cellar. She stumbled and fell on the dirt again.

"Let me go! And my name's Dani, not 'kid'!" she snarled at him, bouncing back up on her feet, fists clenched.

"Okay, Dani," he said her name with sneering emphasis. "You stay and watch Jeannie and these two." He jerked a thumb at his own chest. "I'm goin'." And without further argument he charged up the stairs and out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

"Macho jerk," she muttered angrily. Caught, because no matter how much she wanted to go find Alex, make sure he was all right, there was no way she could leave that little girl alone with two unconscious women in the middle of a pitched battle.

No matter how sharp her claws were.
 
 
 
 
 

"Someone has to pay for that."

Scott glared at Essex from behind his visor, a nearly limp Alex clutched to him with one arm. Alex had taken out the Weapon X airship with one shot. Score one for their side. But the protective windstorm had died down around them. That meant Storm was out of it. Dead? Or just knocked out? He didn't let himself think about it, forced his mind to stay on the immediate situation. If someone had gotten to Storm, then Sabretooth was probably down too. Unless the cat-bastard had turned on them.

"You can bill me, you pervert. You aren't getting your filthy hands on Alex," Scott snapped.

"Ah yes, the little Roman Candle," Essex said, a tight smile on his lips. He stopped a few feet away. And Scott's gaze narrowed unseen behind his visor. Wait . . . hadn't he hit Essex in the ribs with an optic blast? Seen the man coughing blood? But there was no hole in his jacket. No blood on his chin.

"I do believe the government would be very interested in a mutant of his caliber. Perhaps they'll put him to work in a power generation facility. Boiling water for the good of the nation in a steam turbine. A better life than a Weapon X operative's, don't you agree? And a longer one too."

Despite himself, Scott felt rage sweep through him. He knew the other man was yanking his chain, but couldn't help the instinctive protective reflex. He'd guarded his brother too well for too long now.

"Over my dead body, you sicko," Scott hissed. The extra charge he'd boosted off of Alex's display tingled behind his eyes. But he waited. Something wasn't right here. Was this a diversion?

Essex shook his head slowly, lips pursed in amusement. "Such melodrama . . . name calling. Really, the things I must suffer in the name of science."

"You're not Essex," Scott realized, fingers flexing toward the hand controls for his visor. Alex shifted against him, coming further back to his senses. But he couldn't dodge or fight with Alex hanging on him like this. That left them both vulnerable.

Essex' eyes widened slightly and he inclined his head toward them, a sharp smile on his face. Scott quickly scanned the area but saw no sign of converging Weapon X troops or anyone else, just the ruined orchard and the smoke that was billowing up from the crashed airship beyond to merge with the lowering clouds.

"My, my, my but you are a clever boy, aren't you? Seems a shame to spoil those brooding good looks of yours with an actual ability to reason," Essex said mockingly. Then his form shimmered and rippled and changed. Leaving behind a voluptuous indigo-skinned woman with blood-red hair and gleaming eyes that seemed to be all sclera and nothing else. No visible iris. He'd only seen eyes like that once before. On the German kid, Kurt.

"Who the hell are you?" Scott snarled. Alex started to stir in earnest now, taking more of his own weight, but still not back to full awareness. He couldn't count on him yet.

"You can call me Mystique, stud," she said, her lips turning up in a smug smile. A silvery communication headset glittered on one ear, a slender microphone curling from it toward her mouth. She turned her hand gracefully toward it with a dramatic flourish like a game show hostess would use, pointedly indicating the device. "And I've just got word the game's over . . . concede, sweet thing, or we put a brace of hollow-point bullets into the Indian girl and the little cat-baby."

"No! Dani . . ." Alex moaned beside him, thrashing awkwardly in Scott's hold. He swore under his breath, clutching his brother closer. What the hell had happened to Wolverine? Why hadn't he protected the non-combatants as he'd been instructed? Was this a bluff too? But the cruel gleam in the woman's eye sent a shiver down his spine.

He couldn't risk it.

"All right," he said. The words sour. "We surrender."
 
 
 
 
 

Scott walked stiffly in front of the woman, cold rage churning in his gut, his brother stumbling along beside him. At least Alex was moving under his own power now. They were almost back to the cabin. The strangely stagnant air was thick with a cloying mix of ozone and gunpowder and smoke and blood; the aftermath of battle.

The shattered back door of the cabin dangled from one hinge, blasted or wrenched off by some force from the inside. It hadn't been that way when he left, chasing Alex. Grimly, he started toward the cabin only to halt when the woman spoke.

"Around the house, sweet thing," the woman who called herself Mystique said with a low laugh. "Let's just stay outdoors where it's easier to keep an eye on you two, hmm?"

She wasn't armed, that he could see, but he obeyed her anyway. She was still in contact with the Weapon X soldiers who held the others. Presumably, if she went out of contact they'd kill Dani and the little girl. It wasn't something he was prepared to test. Yet.

Seething but resigned, he led Alex around the side of the house. Noting the destruction as he did so. There were some fairly regular basketball-sized holes in the walls now that he didn't remember. Not holes he'd punched with his own optic beams either. He'd been careful to keep their limited cover intact. Some other mutant then? One they'd not encountered before?

Then they rounded the corner of the cabin, and he came to an abrupt halt, grabbing Alex's arm urgently. And tried to ignore the rippling, mocking laughter of the woman behind him.

The clearing in front of the cabin was filled with soldiers. More than two dozen Weapon X bully-boys with automatic weapons and body armor and bad attitudes were clustered around something in the center of the clearing.

Then his breath hissed in. It hadn't been a bluff.

Jean and Madelyne, still unconscious, were laid out in the grass on the far side of the clearing. The little girl, Sabretooth's daughter, was crouched over Madelyne's body. Dani sat behind her, arms wrapped around drawn-up knees. She wasn't bound, but the three men with automatic weapons standing attentively around the little group were more effective than shackles.

"Dani!" Alex cried. Scott held his brother's arm tight to keep him from rushing forward. Dozens of eyes and weapons swiveled their way. Smirking soldiers approached. The parting crowd revealed Ororo huddled in the dirt in the center of the clearing, arms folded over her head protectively, keening softly as she rocked back and forth. Shit! What were they doing to her? Or was it only the idea of what they could do that had reduced her like that? Where were Wolverine and Sabretooth? Anger flared inside him. Had they run off somewhere? And then, just as suddenly, his anger spluttered into helpless ashes. Because behind Ororo lay Logan and Creed, both bloodied and battered and tightly bound.

There was no one else left. That was all of them. And just like that, they were prisoners again.

"Ah, I see the time invested in you was well spent after all, Mystique," a quiet, menacing voice said. Scott jerked. Turned slowly.

Essex was standing on the porch of the cabin beyond, dark eyes gleaming as they fixed on Scott and Alex. A thin ribbon of dried blood stained his chin. His jacket was disheveled and torn. But he was standing, the same knife-edge smile of triumph on his lips.

"Didn't hit you hard enough, did I?" Scott said bitterly.

"On the contrary, my boy, you hit me quite hard enough." The smile thinned even more. Dark eyes glittered. "I must confess it has been quite a while since I suffered such a painful indignity. It is fortunate that Mr. Creed has been so long available for research and that I had already managed to transfer a modified version of his healing factor to myself. It is, lamentably, not as swift as the original, but still quite efficient, I assure you."

"You experiment on yourself?" Scott said, revulsion clear in his voice. Essex' smile widened fractionally. Cold and pitiless.

"Of course not." And Scott knew that countless others had suffered and probably died until the process had been perfected. Only then would Essex have used it on himself. Sick rage rose in him. Everyone was just a lab rat to Essex. Something to play with. To study. There was no human compassion, no acknowledgement of the rights of others to live in the Weapon X scientist. They'd never be free of him. Unless . . . .

"Careful Cyke! He's got -- " He heard Wolverine's voice, rougher than usual, choke off sharply as one of the soldiers kicked him in the diaphragm.

Essex laughed, the sound cold and mirthless. His dark gaze intent on Scott's face. Watching him. Studying him. Then he turned to the soldiers and languidly waved them away. The men melted back from the bound prisoners like magic all the way to the edge of the clearing, a wary kind of fear on most of their faces. But the fear wasn't for the helpless mutants at their feet. It was for Essex himself, Scott noted, surprised.

The air was still and heavy. Thick with tension. Low-lying clouds dimmed the scene. Alex's arm trembled in his hold.

In the silence, the Wolverine's gasps for breath were loud. He turned his head, spitting into the dirt, eyes narrowed in rage. His face was streaked with blood as if something had smashed him with unbelievable force, yet he'd already mostly healed. An equally battered Creed lay on his side beside him, cat-eyes glittering with hatred from within a face masked by drying blood as well. His intent glare never wavered from Essex.

"I believe the Wolverine was referring to this," Essex said calmly. Then twin beams of dark purple-black energy shot from the doctor's eyes, striking Creed in the chest and sending the heavy, bound man tumbling across the clearing toward the little group of women like a doll, soldiers scattering out of the way.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

"Dada! Dada!" The little girl's sobs were piercing in the thick air. Scott's head jerked around to see Lucy, tears on her face, scramble away from Madelyne's side toward Sabretooth. With a cry of dismay, Dani lunged after the little girl, the nearby guards turning weapons toward her automatically. Alex lunged forward too, slipping out of his own grasp like an eel, shouting Dani's name.

Simultaneously, Storm reared up, her eyes solid white, her hair crackling with blue-white leaders of lighting.

"Eat this you bastards!" she cried, lifting her arms toward the sky. And down from the bluish-gray, ominous clouds above dropped a funnel cloud. Roaring with raw power. Narrow, precise, deadly. Within seconds, it touched down at the edge of the clearing, in the center of the clustered soldiers, sucking those hapless enough to be at ground zero straight up into its maw, tossing the rest around like sticks. Felling most of Essex's men in one blow. The soldiers on the fringes scattered, fleeing into the woods, some even dropping their weapons in their terror to escape.

The tornado pursued them. Trees and bushes and dirt whipped wildly through the air; the funnel grew wider as it progressed away from the clearing, devouring everything in its path. And Scott had to trust Ororo, trust her control, because Alex was racing blindly toward Dani, who had frozen in shock when the tornado appeared. Beyond her, the little girl was clinging to Sabretooth's bloody chest, shrieking.

All this he absorbed in an instant, turning back toward Essex even as the doctor turned to face him.

Red beams lashed toward purple-black. Intersected, like two glances colliding, the force of each feeding back on the other. The recoil sent him flying; Scott crashed hard into Mystique behind him, her body cushioning his fall. He rolled off her limp form to his hands and knees, head hanging, eyes closed.

"Damn it!" he swore, head aching, eyes burning. He checked his visor with a trembling hand. It was intact. It felt like it had almost been pressed through his skull, but it was still there. Still usable.

Face toward the ground, Scott risked opening his eyes but couldn't see a thing through the pulsing flares of black filling his vision. He was effectively blind. His power was in his sight. If he couldn't aim . . . he was useless. He could only hope, through a sense of sick helplessness, that Essex had been neutralized as well.

Because around him, the sounds of chaos raged.
 
 
 
 
 

Alex heard the strange buzzing sounds behind him, glanced over his shoulder to see red beams intersect with purple-black; saw them somehow merge and continue through each other back to the source. Scott and the creepy man his brother had named Essex were both thrown back from the impact. His brother crashed into the blue woman who had captured them in the orchard, knocking her out. Essex hit the side of the cabin and slumped to the porch, stunned.

"Scott!"

He froze for an endless, tearing second, caught between loyalty to his brother and loyalty to Dani. The tornado was driving the soldiers off -- the white-haired woman who was apparently controlling it was laughing with an edge of hysteria beyond, her face turned up to the sky. The man called Wolverine lay beside her, his eyes narrowed. Then his dark, angry gaze flicked to Alex.

"Kid! Cut me loose!"

Alex glanced around; Dani was crouched, frozen, staring at the tornado beyond her, Scott was already rolling to his hands and knees, shaking his head. Both of them safe for the moment, but there were still a few soldiers around, recovering slowly, but there. And this was the guy who made blades come out of his hands. He seemed dangerous. Maybe dangerous enough to keep Dani and Scott alive. Alex scrambled to the man's side, hands fumbling at his wrists.

"They're plastic binders!" he shouted over the roaring winds, frustrated.

"Burn it!" Wolverine snarled at him.

"What?" Alex reared back, shocked. "No! I'll hurt you!"

"You saw me take bullets! I heal . . . so fire up. Melt 'em! Hurry, kid! They're gonna shoot Storm!"

It was true. Alex could see a couple of the remaining soldiers were gathering their wits, weapons turning toward the white-haired woman. And Dani.

The intensity of his blast before had sucked nearly all the heat out of him, leaving him cold, drained. But now raw panic surged through Alex and the strange heat came with it. Scott had told him to focus in his hands . . . his hands . . . and under his hands, yellow-white light flared. Wolverine yelled as the fire burned his skin, melting the plastic into him, but he flexed his brawny arms anyway, snapping the weakened binders like string. The dark-haired man rolled away, a single blade flashing out of his hand as he reached down to cut the binders around his ankles himself. Then he was up and gone, racing toward the soldiers, shouting to draw their aim.

It happened so fast, Alex was left gasping, fire spilling from his hands, washing against the ground and around his own legs. Flaring again despite his exhaustion. But he didn't really feel the flames. Their heat didn't affect him, but the dirt below was searing, charring and his jeans were smoldering. The yellow-white glow built, surging brighter.

"No!" he cried. He'd started it, but now he wasn't sure he could stop it. The surge wasn't nearly as strong as before . . . but before he'd brought down an entire airship. Burned a hole through it as wide as a door. He'd kill everyone in the clearing if even half that blast happened again. Dani. Scott. Everyone.

So he did the only thing he could control for certain. He ran.
 
 
 
 
 

Dani recovered from the temporary shock of seeing a real live tornado drop down practically in her face when she heard Alex's angry shout. The edge of the tornado's winds were clawing savagely at her, sending her ponytail lashing at her shoulders like a whip. She clutched the ground in front of herself for reassurance even as the tornado veered away, chasing the soldiers into the forest. She could hear the woman with white hair shouting in triumph, the screams of the soldiers around them, and the little girl's terrified shrieks as she clutched at her father's still chest, but the only sound that truly registered was Alex's voice.

She looked over her shoulder to see Alex -- hands glowing ominously yellow-white again -- race off into the forest.

"Alex!" she shouted, but he didn't pause. Not able to hear her over the roaring of the winds.

Then narrow purple-black beams of energy lashed out and struck the white-haired woman in the back, sending her tumbling across the clearing. The tornado, already many yards away, instantly began to fray. The wild winds slowed and the funnel lifted away from the ground, retreating into the clouds.

Dani traced the beams back to their source, her throat drying out as she saw the Shadow Eyes standing on the steps of the porch, a contemptuous curl to his thin lips.

"Useless humans," he said, dark gaze narrowed on the crumpled forms of soldiers that littered the torn-up clearing. There wasn't a single one left standing.

"Essex!" The snarling shout came from Knife-man, who was standing over the bodies of several more soldiers, blood dripping off the blades that protruded from his hands.

"Foolish bravado, Wolverine," Shadow Eyes said as the dark beams lashed out from his eyes again, striking Knife-man -- Wolverine -- in the head and sending him flying back into the woods with the force of the blow.

Flinching, Dani scanned the clearing, eyes wide with dismay. Scott was crouched on the far side, a hand to his forehead, swaying. Seemingly out of it. The wind-woman was down, knocked out by the Shadow Eye's power and Wolverine had just been similarly neutralized. Alex had run off into the woods, his power out of control again. The cannibal-spirit was lying nearby, his eyes open again, a snarl of rage on his face. His brawny arms flexed hard against his bonds, but he didn't seem able to break free. Trapped and furious. The little girl was clinging to him, crying.

So that left just her to face down the Shadow Eyes.

She met the dark gaze, shivering. He took a step toward her.

"I do so dislike messy encounters," the Shadow Eyes said to her in an oddly conversational tone. "But as long as my objectives are attained, the inconvenience can be overlooked. Get up, girl. I require your assistance."

"No," she said. The rejection automatic.

The Shadow Eyes frowned at her.

"You are in no position to be defiant, girl. There is a vehicle parked down the road. It should be sufficient to transport the women to my lab."

"No," she said again. Then she spared a quick glance for the two redheads, wondering what exactly all the fuss was about. Because they were both still lying flat on the ground, unconscious.

"I no longer have any need for Sabretooth's offspring. You will assist me, or the child dies," he said, glancing at the little girl significantly, no trace of any emotion other than irritation on his pale face.

"Damn you, Essex," Scott snarled from across the clearing, his words almost drowned out under the cannibal-spirit's angry growls. "Leave them alone!" Scott had climbed awkwardly to his feet, but his head was cocked strangely. The Shadow Eyes paced forward, a curiously superior frown on his face as he peered at Alex's brother.

"Interesting," he said, his tone coolly thoughtful. "Yes, my healing ability must have prevented blinding. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Summers, you don't have that advantage. Your sight may return on its own, but not in time, I suspect."

"Fucker," Scott hissed helplessly, fists clenched.

Shadow Eyes turned away from Scott to glare coldly at Dani. "Get up, girl. My patience has limits."

Dani stared into those dark eyes, feeling her spirit recoil from the sheer emptiness of them, afraid of them tainting her. And one blast of energy from those eyes would kill the child. Would kill her. They were defeated. She stood up slowly, earning a subtly pleased look from the Shadow Eyes and an angry snarl from the bound cannibal-spirit.

"Sensible," Shadow Eyes said dryly. "Now, you will carry Madelyne Prior to the vehicle for me."

Resigned, Dani turned to the two redheads. Walked over and crouched down beside Madelyne. She reached out with both hands and grabbed her shoulder and arm, intending to roll her up, and then lift her. But as soon as she touched the other woman, something in her reached out, like in her dreams.

And she gasped as she felt power, seething and bright and lightning-fast, flow into her, then back out again. Using her, but not of her. As if her touch had been some kind of catalyst…

With a deafening roar, something huge appeared in the air above the clearing. A tremendous bird of fire; red and gold and brilliant blue-white. With knowing eyes as dark as night set in a proud head silhouetted against the scattering clouds. Dripping flame from every feather. Talons golden-bright, shining beak open in a scream too piercing to be heard as it hovered over them all.

"What da fuckin' hell?!" From the cannibal-spirit.

Dani stared up at it, mouth open in awe. The firebird was beautiful. It was terrible. And somehow . . . it had come through her.

And it had come to destroy.

The great wings fanned, sending heat and sparks flickering everywhere with the downdraft. It bent its great flaming head, the dark eyes piercing and bright. Angry. Aware. Anguished. It looked down at the little girl crouching over the cannibal-spirit and through her link with it, that tenuous bond of creation, Dani could feel a wave of raw emotion swirl out to include her and she could hear it -- hear them . . .
 

Must protect . . . no more death . . .
Fear . . . pain . . . fear . . .
I hate him . . . I hate him . . .
Life again . . . a chance . . . hope . . .
No more killing . . . no more . . .
We must destroy him to save my babies . . . our babies . . .
No . . . we are resurrection . . .
We are fire . . .
We are Phoenix . . .
We are . . . life!

Power, seemingly infinite, coursed back through the link, into her, then back out again . . . into the two women sprawled on the ground. Beyond, the slim one, Jean, sat up. Her green eyes opened, calm and focused -- she held out a hand to her side. Madelyne sat up more slowly, pushing Dani aside, then she too reached out a hand toward Jean. Their fingertips touched.

The great firebird flung its wings wide, and a scream of triumphant rage rent the air.

Beyond, the Shadow Eyes stood frozen, his expression enrapt.

"Both of them . . ." he muttered, staring up at the bird of fire. "Yes, both of them . . . of course!"

"You will not harm what is ours." A voice echoed painfully, in the air, in her head. "Never again!"

The bird stooped hungrily toward the Shadow Eyes, searing flame spilling from it, talons extended, beak opening to emit a savage cry.

Dani wrenched her mind, her self away, trying to claw her way up from the swirl of power like trying to wake from a nightmare. Fighting the flow of it. Feeling the power drag at her like the swift current of a river. But not wanting to be caught up in what was going to happen. Not wanting to feel the kill . . . But she was helpless to look away.

The bird descended on the Shadow Eyes, golden talons of light sinking into his body and pulling him up into its terrible embrace. Lifting him high into the air. But there was no blood, no gore, just a dark man-shape like a stain against the center of fire.

"No! Not that! No!" he shrieked, writhing in the bird's grasp, voice rising high in desperation, in primal terror. "Not my mind!"

The bird bent down, black eyes gleaming, beak poised to strike -- then, in a flash of fire and heat and power . . . it was gone. And the Shadow Eyes crashed heavily to the ground, head lolling, eyes staring blankly, spittle trickling from a mouth gone slack.

Dani's head jerked back in reaction as she felt something snap through her -- through her spirit -- and she stumbled. Staggering. Falling. Then hands were grabbing her, dragging her back up, holding her steady.

"Dani! Dani!" It was Alex, clutching her shoulders, staring at her with blue eyes filled with a mix of shock and relief and amazement.

"I'm okay," she managed to gasp. Alex stared at her a moment longer -- stunned, breathing hard -- before he pulled her roughly into his arms, holding her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. But she didn't care, she was holding him just as tightly. Glad to feel him against her, to know that he was safe. They were both safe.

"Dani. Dani. Oh god," he chanted in her ear. "What was that? Did you do that? Oh my god…"

"N-no . . ." she managed to gasp out. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but it hadn't been her. Or at least, not entirely.

"No, Alex Summers, she didn't. Justice was all ours. She just gave us some really bitchin' special effects," came a calm female voice that echoed strangely. She and Alex both turned, releasing each other just enough to stare at the red-headed women standing beside them.

Jean Grey. Madelyne Prior. And yet so much more . . . an endlessly dying girl reborn . . . bright new life shimmering with power . . . a consuming force longing to be freed . . . and she knew them, she realized. In a hazy, confused way, she knew them all. Foreign feelings swam in her mind, both dark and light. Pleasure and pain. Regret and acceptance. Longing and fulfillment. Feelings from them?

They both stood straight and tall, hands clasped like little children, staring into each other's eyes. Matching eyes. Matching faces. They were smiling. And . . . glowing. That was the only way to describe it. Not like Alex had, or the bird of fire, but still glowing brighter every second. The little girl now stood at Madelyne's side, her clawed hands wound tightly in the hem of her mother's baggy shirt, staring up at her adoringly.

Around the clearing, there were more stirrings. A bloody-faced Wolverine was crouched behind the cannibal-spirit. He'd just finished cutting the big blonde's bonds, and both of them surged to their feet, staring fixedly at the two women.

The white haired wind-woman was sitting up too, her golden eyes wide, a trickle of blood coming from her nose.

Scott was facing them. Apparently his vision had recovered a little bit, at least. "Jean . . . Madelyne . . . what . . . how . . . ?" he was saying, his face blank with awed surprise.

Identical faces turned to face him. Identical smiles widening. It was eerie. They moved in synch, perfectly attuned. Almost as if they were one woman.

"Scott. We are life. We are Phoenix," they said.

"What the fuck . . . Jeannie?!"

"My cub -- shit! Maddie!"

Dani stared at the two women, entranced. And she could feel it. The wild power. Building again. The firebird . . . striving . . . calling . . . begging to be summoned again. Two sets of green eyes closed, heads tilted back, faces radiant with a beatific light. But the power, the strain . . . she could see the sweat running down both women's faces, see the trembling in Madelyne's arms and feel the echo of that seductive call of power . . . .

"You gotta stop it . . . they can't take any more!" she shouted, reacting instinctively. Scott's attention snapped to her from the far side of the clearing.

"What do you mean?" And she was gratified that he seemed to accept her knowing and not question her. At least not now.

"They're . . . I don't know . . . " she dug frantically in her mind for a way to explain something she could only barely sense, ". . . channeling or something . . . or it's them together! We gotta get them apart or they're gonna burn out!"

Wolverine and the cannibal-spirit exchanged sharp glances. Then, almost as one, the two men were racing across the clearing. Ignoring Scott's warning shout.

They reached the women at almost the same time, the big blond man bending down to scoop up the little girl even as he wrapped an arm around Madelyne's chest, pulling her backwards and away from Jean.

Wolverine caught Jean in a flying tackle even as she gave a sharp cry and began to crumple after Madelyne's hands were yanked out of hers. He rolled over with her, shielding her with his own body until they came to a stop in the dirt a few feet away, Jean sprawled across his chest. He hugged her to him for a moment, silent.

The cannibal-spirit had simply tucked Madelyne under his arm as he bulled through, the other arm occupied with cradling little Lucy against his chest. He had stopped and was staring down at Madelyne, a puzzled look on his face. Madelyne was staring right back at him, a wondering look on hers.

"Creed?"

"Huh," the big man snorted. "You okay?" The little girl squirmed against his shoulder, reaching out her hands toward her mother. Madelyne blinked slowly several times, then struggled in his grasp until he set her on her feet. Once he did, she moved in close, reaching her arms around him and Lucy, letting the little girl wind her arms around her neck, but making him keep hold of her -- including Creed in the embrace.

His broad back stiffened, but he only bent his head and sniffed lightly at the top of her head.

"Cub's okay," he said in a low rumble.

Madelyne lifted her head and smiled up at him. And there was something in her expression -- a new understanding, a new confidence, a new awareness -- that made Dani jerk her attention away from them, ashamed of intruding.

"Holy shit," the wind-woman, Storm, said, her voice wavering as she climbed slowly to her feet. "Somebody tell me what the hell just happened here."

Dani looked around the clearing. Saw Wolverine and a blinking Jean sit up, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Saw Creed and Madelyne and little Lucy still close together. Saw Scott moving slowly over toward the shaky Storm, a frown of concern on his face. Felt Alex's arm tight around her shoulders.

Then she glanced down at the twitching form of the Shadow Eyes.

"It think we just won," she said.

Go on to "Sorting Nests" the penultimate story ....

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