Subject: Brotherly Hate 7/14: A Tale of the AOA Date: Tue, 03 Sep 1996 01:04:46 +0000 From: Snowlock Organization: Corporate Communications Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction Wawhoo, halfway mark. I'm feeling very satisfied with the responses I've gotten so far, glad everybody likes the story. Since we're at the half-way point, I'm going to repost the first seven chapters in Snowlock's version of a virtual TPB, probably tomorrow. Anyway, the usual legal stuff: All characters belong to marvel and are used without permission. Snowlock. ______________ Brotherly Hate, Chapter Seven The sewers under the prison are very old, and filled with some very distasteful substances. Nightcrawler, as he sloshes knee deep in the slimy green water, wishes he were back home, not in America, but in Germany. The circus was a hard life, but simple; and there was Amanda... Natalia: Nightcrawler, we are almost there. Nightcrawler: And how did you know about this tunnel, Natalia? It would seem to me, these environs not exactly to fit your tastes. Natalia: In a way they do. Before Apocalypse came, I was a spy for my country. I am very familiar with sneeking around in filth to gain entry to fortified positions. Nightcrawler: If this tunnel leads into the prison, how can it be a fortified place? Natalia: Oh, it does not lead _into_ the prison, comrade, only up to it. To get inside we will have to use your abilities. Nightcrawler: I must tell you, Black Widow, my abilities are not without limits. I am near exhaustion. If I teleport us in, I can not guarantee I can get us out again. Natalia: How do the Americans say, that bridge we will cross when we are over it? Nightcrawler: Something like that. Clint's having a bad day. Not only does he have to play the fox to Cyber's hounds, he's hungry, tired, and scared. Clint doesn't like being scared, it frightens him. Barton: Oh, well, all in the line of saving the world I guess. Since late last night he has led the forces under prelate Cyber on a merry chase indeed. The mutant tracker was a problem, of course, though not after a rather simple shot from his bow she wasn't. For the past hour, he has been moving in circles, trying to keep Cyber's forces off his back. Most of them are dead, of course, as his near-empty quiver can attest to, but Barton's taken his share of knocks as well. He's pretty badly burned from an energy wielder, nearly electrocuted from some chick and her brother who contolled lightning, and broke a rib killing some big dude named Sunder. "Sunder'll do this, Sunder'll do that." Only thing Sunder did was kick the bucket, hard; arrow in each ear. Exhausted, nearly out of ammo both for his bow and gun, and injured, desperation is now rearing its ugly head. How long is it gonna take for Nightcrawler to roll in and save his bacon? Those two lightning wielders are up there somewhere, circlin' around like vultures, waitin' for Barton to come inta tha open. Ain't gonna happen. Out the window of the last building Barton saw what could only have been a prison. Now, in the basement of this building, he has found an entrance into the sewer system. Forget the Widow and the X Man, he's going after his buddies. Maybe the sewer will bring him to ‘em. Gryich: Well, it was a good plan. Weapon X: Best laid plans, Henry boy... The force of the crossbeam slamming into the restrained Kraven was enough to totally incapacitate him. Currently, he is being carried over the sholder of Weapon X as Gryich blasts away with his captured assualt rifle. They managed to fight there way both to Kraven, and again across the prison yard to the relative safety of the prison's mostly-empty interior. They're now inside the entry way to the main cell-block, but are unable to proceed any further. The bars of the cell-blocks entrance are slammed shut, pinning the would-be escapees between the bars and the charging guards. Gryich: Rifle's almost out of charge! With a pitiful fizzle, the rifle stops firing. Frustrated, Gryich throws it aside and draws a small blaster from the wasteband of his pants. Weapon X: Save it. Here, take him. He shrugs Kraven to the ground, into Gryich's arms. The claws of Weapon X spring from his fists. He crosses the blades before his face and then calls out his attackers. Weapon X: Who wants a piece? The MLF guards, numbering over two dozen, abruptly skid to a halt in the corridor. All of them know well this X Man's reputation: The best at what he does. Logan's muscles bunch up, adrenaline floods into his system. Only Gryich, weakly leaning against the bars of the cell-block door, can hear the low growl. The guards' eyes widen, they know this man, this animal is about to pounce. Death is only a ten feet and a heartbeat away. As one collective body, they turn tail (in a few cases, literally) and flee back down the corridor. Gryich: Wow. Weapon X: Happens all the time. Let's get this door open before they decide to come back. Barton: Well, whaddya know, I was right. Though coming through the ancient sewage system of Minsk to get to the prison was nothing if not pleasant, Clint Barton has perservered, and as Colossus throws Spoor off the high walls of Kiev, thousands of miles south, the archer now stands before an old, rusted grate, far below the streets of Minsk. The grate's moorings have weakened as the decades passed, but as much as Barton pulls and pushes on it, he can not pry it loose. Deep under the prison, two MLF guards set to watch over the sewage drain, hear the scraping, and unslinging their rifles, walk toward the noise. Adamantium is much stronger than iron, and though it took the X Man a few whacks, the bars parted and he, Gryich, and Kraven are now moving through the empty cell block. Stoping to catch their breath, Gryich and Weapon X take a moment to assess their bleak situation. Gryich: Well, what now? Weapon X: It was yer plan, kid. Gryich: Sure, pin it all on me, whydonya? Weapon X: We need ta go ta ground. It seems this city is chock full'a catacombs. Maybe there're a few leadin' from tha prison. Gryich: So, we go deeper? Weapon X: We go deeper. Gryich: What about the Horseman? Weapon X: Nicodemus? I don' think he's gonna be a problem. Gryich: Why not? The lights of the cell block suddenly flicker and then die. The cell block door, locked from the inside by keys liberated from a guard earlier, swings open without a sound. A figure steps through the door, silouetted in the light from behind. Silouetted figure: Because I am the one that freed you in the first place, mortal. Well, the guards were a big help, Barton thinks as he gingerly steps through the gaping hole next to the rusted gate. One of them was apparently an energy weilder, and not a very bright one either. After the first bolt from the bowman took out the mutant's partner, the MLF guard sought to employ his power by firing bolts of energy through the holes in the grate of the rusted drain, seeking to incinerate Barton. A well-aimed arrow slammed into the guard’s side at the last instant, effectively slamming him to the right, just as he let go with his power. Thus, the hole. The room Barton has stepped into seems to be rather large, but he can't really tell because it is pitch black in here. Barton: Let's remedy the sititchiation, shall we? He takes a special arrow from his quiver, one of his few remaining ones, and after tilting his bow high into the air, lets fly the bolt. After the arrow gets a goodly ways from the archer, it flares to life, casting the room in an incadescent green glow. The room he is in is more aptly termed a cavern. It is so big, the green spark of the arrow is at so far above him, he cannot make out the details of the shaft itself, only the glow coming from it. The cavern stretches will beyond the boundries of his bolt's light. There's no telling how big it is. And the walls, the walls are lined with, with... Barton: Holy %&*#!!!! Scimitar! Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow, has abandoned the last of her companions. Once the X Man Nightcrawler teleported both himself and the Russia within the confines of the prison, he abruptly collapsed. She dragged him into what was at one time, aparently a janitor's closet, and after assuring herself he yet lived, closed the door behind the unconscience mutant, and quickly fled down the hall. At the end of the hall is a staircase, and the Widow is faced with the choice of which way to go, up or down. In the next instant, choice is stolen from her as a squad of guards make their way up from below. Her light footfalls imperceptible to even the most sensitive ear, Romanova hurries up the stairs as the oblivious guards climb the last flight, and move into the hallway formerly occupied by the Widow. Had she seen the squad's leader, she may have been given pause, she may have even went back for her comrade, though that is doubtful. To find out the secret of Project Scimitar, to save her country, Natalia Romanova would have sacrificed any individual for the greater good, even if that meant sacrificing the X Man Nightcrawler to the devil himself. Even if it meant sacrificing the X Man to the guards' leader who has returned from the city, returned from his wild chase after the illusive bowman. Even if it meant sacrificing Nightcrawler to Prelate Cyber. She races up the stairs. She's been in this prison before, though it was some time ago, before the coming of Apocalypse. She had trained here. She had loved here. Her husband had died here. Before Belorussia fell to the onslaught of the Apocalypse, this very prison had been the sight of the last battle for this area of the USSR, and her husband, Alexi Shostokov, who in another timeline would have been called the Red Guardian, the resistance's last defender. Even though their marriage was one of convenience, she had grown to love him over time, and the loss of him has affected her deeply; even made her betray the provisional government, and thrust her into the role of the Black Widow. It has been quite a while, over twenty years, since she first entered this prison, though never a prisoner was she. Deep underneath the massive structure was a secret KGB training facility. She remembers being awed by the sheer size of it as she enters a long cell block. Her nerves turn to ice as she realizes she is not alone in this seemingly abandoned block. And then the lights flicker and die... It has been a long day, Piotr Nikoleivitch Rasputin thinks. With the mind controlling mutant dead, the forces of both the magistrates and their Russian reinforcements managed to pull themselves together and reclaim the walls. But their counter-attack was not without cost. About one-third of the defenders have fallen. The Genoshan leader, Renee Majcomb is dead, and the Russian leader, and Piotr's old friend, Alexi Vahzin is wounded, though not down and out, not by a long shot. Vahzin: Nikoleivitch! The walls are ours again! Colossus smiles and nods as he wipes blowing snow out of his eyes. His smile fades as he hears a shout from the main gate. The X Man peers over the battlement and watches in dread as the remnants of the horde which had just fallen back from his wall reform before the massive gates to the city. The mutant herald calling himself Havok is the organizer of the the forces before Kiev’s entrance. The snow billows around him as he raises his arms to the massive wooden doors. Glowing plasma explodes from this mutant and slams into the entrance to the beseiged city. The force of the assualt causes the doors to bulge inward and rocks the battlements. Defenders rush to take up positions for the know the inevitable: The doors will soon fall. A second blast by Havok is accompanied by gale-force winds and twin shocks of lightning. The force of this second, greater assualt not only open the gate, it blasts the doors off their hinges, flinging them like discarded paper far into the city. Havok: Hear me, citizens of Kiev! Your day is done!! That said, the forces of Apocalypse charge into the city. One hundred ninjas of the Hand and three companies of Russian rebels attempt to hold back the onslaught. Colossus can only watch in horror as they are quickly overwhelmed. The leader of the Hand, the Silver Samurai, has cut his way through the vanguard of the attackers and has come face to face with their leader, the feared Havok! Silver Samurai: Gaijin, our day may be done, but I promise you, so too is yours. With that, he attacks. His first two katana swipes are dodged by the experienced prelate. He retaliates with a blast of his own, which the Samurai deftly side-steps. Unfortunately for the Silver Samurai, Havok is not about to give up. Calling upon the cosmic forces which flow into his body giving him his power, he floods himself with energy, and like the splitting of an atom, releases it in a huge explosion. The Silver Samurai is hurled over two hundred feet backwards, slaming into an already blasted out building. On the fifth floor he has come to rest, his brilliant armor having saved his life, is now a mass of molten metal. The silver is gone, burned black, and in many places, the mental has been peeled away is jagged strips. Though he will live to fight another day, he will not return to this battle. Outside, Havok cries out in exhiliration, having yet defeated another foe. His euphoria quickly turns to a different feeling, worry? Fear perhaps? The Mandarin has entered the battle. Accompanying him, like two dragons screeming over head are the twin giants of the Braddock Industries sentinal project. Gatlin guns swivel into position over each of the giant robots massive armor-plated right shoulder. They open fire, and the forces of Apocalypse have for the second time on this snowy day known retreat. One stands his ground. Havok will not fall back. Raw energy crushes into the lead sentinal. Despite its armored shell, it slams powerfully into the ground, digging a deep furrow in the frozen earth, ultimately slamming into the buttress supporting the east wall, crushing it. Unsupported, the wall sways in the shrieking wind, but holds. The other sentinal is beset by a multide of anti-arcraft weapons trying to knock it out of the sky. The automaton is undaunted, a field springs around it deflecting the energy burts. Lighting cracks in the sky, but it too glances away. The forces of the MLF fall back even further leaving their leader, Havok... Mandarin: Alone. You are alone now, mutant. What will you do? Havok: Kill you, flatscan. It is that simple. The cosmic energy glows around the prelate, and then explodes from him, steaking toward the Mandarin. The Mandarin is fast enough to react. His matter rearranger ring wrenches a think slab of earth from the ground and raises it between him and Havok. The barrier is shattered by Havok's blast, but the Mandarin is untouched. Mandarin: You will find, abomination, nothing in life is "that" simple. The Mandarin points his left hand and from the golden ring upon his finger a beam issues forth, slamming into the prelate, hurling him high into the air and slaming his back into the wall. Mandarin: My impact ring. Impressive, no? Havok: No. He unleashes another torrent of cosmic energy, again, a shield is raised to defect the blast. Mandarin: Your power is quite ineffective, mutant, as is your entire race. Another ring fires, and Havok is forced to employ his own power in his defense to block the heat of the Mandarin's flame ring. The flames are followed by ice, electricity, a swirling vortex, each in turn is blocked by the now beleagured prelate, but each assualt wears him down until he is barely able to stand. The defenders of Kiev cheer from their positions along the walls. The Mandarin next turns to his mind controller rin. Mandarin: Now, feel _my_ wrath! The force of will of China's newest emporer slams into Havok like a tidal wave. The prelates psychic defenses are no match. He drops to his knees and screams. Mandarin: You are now mine. Another figure suddenly steps onto the battle field, interrupting the duel. Cyclops: Not today. His ruby quartz of his visor seems to extend, growing into a wide beam in the blink of an eye. The optic blast easily cuts through the the emporer's outstretched hand. Instantly, it and the five rings upon it are gone, vaporized. Mandarin: Noooooooooo!!! Soldiers rush forward, and in the confusion, Cyclops slings his dazed brother over his shoulder and retreats back to his camp. Night falls and the Mandarin and the other wounded are taken from the field of battle. The forces of Apocalypse fall back to encamp for the night. High up on the battered wall, Colossus and his friend, Alexi Vahzin, watch, exhausted, as the MLF withdraw. Colossus: We did it, Alexi! We held them! Vahzin: For today only, my friend. For today only. And we have not yet faced the Provisional army. Piotr's mood again turns grim and he scans over the battle field. The wounded are slowly being collected and carried away. Workers are frantically trying to rig up something to seal the gaping hole in their defenses left by the destroyed walls, and the dead are being burned, their pyres lighting up the night sky. Despite the blackness of the dimmed lights, Weapon X knows all too well who the sillouetted figure striding into the corridor of the cell block must be. Weapon X: Hello again, Nicodemus. Gryich: 'Demus?! Logan, take Kraven, I'll cover you! Gryich has barely time to raise what can only be his ineffectual pistol before a blinding beam of scarlet light flashes out from Nicodemus's black form, striking Gryich squarely in the chest, slaming the hapless human backwards against the bars of one of the many empty cells. His pistol falls, unfired, from nerveless fingers. Weapon X doesn't move as Kraven meets a similiar fate. Though still unconcious, his sensless form is also sent sailing through the air, smashing into the bars of another empty cell. Nicodemus: There now, we are alone and we can talk. Weapon X: They dead? Nicodemus: No. I still want the Russian to hang. Killing him here, in some dark corner of the prison does not make much of a statement, now does it? And Holocaust still wants the American mortal. Surely, you do not expect me to deny the son of En Sabah Nur? Weapon X: I ain't sure what I expect from ya, 'Demus. First ya capture me, then ya say ya let me go. Then I'm captured again, then ya free me, and now I'm cornered. Nicodemus: It does seem rather inconsistant of me, doesn't it? Perhaps I should explain. Weapon X: Yeah, ya could do that. Ya c'n also explain why ya keep callin' us "mortals"; I mean, there's Homo Sapiens and Homo Superiors, but there ain't no mortals and immortals. Nicodemus: No? I beg to differ, Logan. Weapon X: You know my name? Nicodemus: I know everything about you, X Man. I know all about the adamantium bonded to your bones, I know about your mother and father, I know about the time before you joined Magnus's rag-tag little band. Oh, I know you alright. Weapon X: And how is that? Nicodemus: Because it is in my intrest to know. There are very few beings like you and me left, now. I feel I am obliged to keep track of you. Weapon X: Where've you been? There's more mutants now than ever. Nicodemus: Oh, I'm not talking about mutants, not exclusively. I'm talking about us; immortals. Weapon X: Immortals?! Bub, I ain't immortal and neither are you, 'n' as soon as yer done yappin', I'm gonna prove it ta ya. The Horseman snarls in rage and in the darkness Weapon X can see his eyes smolder. A gnarled hand flashes up, spewing forth radiant energy, which smashes into the X Man like a thundercloud rolling over the plains. Weapon X is engulfed in the energy. It pulls at him, pulsates around him. His arms and legs are stretched away from his body as he is raised four feet into the air. He is completely immobilized. Nicodemus has regained some control over his temper. Nicodemus: I tried, Logan. I tried to reach you, but you cannot let go of you petty affection for these flatscan mortals. Oh well. Life goes on... well, mine anyway. Through the red haze and clenched teeth, Logan stares down at his tormenter. His voice comes to him in an agonized whisper. Weapon X: I-if I-I'm immortal, how ya gonna kill me? Nicodemus draws a wickedly curved knife from inside is ornate robe. Nicodemus: With this. To kill an immortal, the five branches must be severed from the tree. I'll leave it to your immagination to understand what that means. Weapon X: Hope it's sharp. Nicodemus: I would not put too much faith in your adamantium skeleton to save you either; not unless your tendons have been coated as well. The process shall take a bit longer, but I assure you, the end result will be quite the same. Oh, Logan. I am so disappointed in you! You see, you and I are the last!! Gideon, Candra, Krule, Absalom, Saul, all of them have perished. Killed by X men, human partisans, each other. Weapon X: Wouldn't that m-make you happy? Being the last I mean. Nicodemus: I can feel that my time is soon coming. En Sabah Nur, the greatest of the immortals, wishes to be the only. As long as I live, I am a threat, an eternal threat. Of all of his potential adversaries, only you and I could endure to battle him through the ages. That is a threat he will not tolerate, I am afraid. No, he will deal with me soon enough. Weapon X: That's why you freed me, to preserve "our" kind? Nicodemus: Yes, you fool!! I was willing to let Gryich escape with you, he would have been easy to track down again, but you had to escape! As long as you lived!! But no, YOU had to save the Russian peasant, embarrass me in front of my command, and more importantly, in the eyes of my most dire lord. I see now that you will always be bound to the pathetic masses. I had dreamed of one day changing your mind, but your squandering of my most generous gift of your freedom has at last convinced me of the hopelessness of that dream. You must die. Weapon X: Then why kill me yerself? I mean, if Apocalypse is afraid of me anyway... Nicodemus: Since you were born, I have striven to keep you hidden from my lord's eyes. It is I who have kept you safe all these long years. It is I who must put an end to you now. It is ironic do you not think? I who was there at the time of your birth, oh so long ago, am now here for your death. Goodbye, Weapon X. Your father, foolish man that he was, would have been proud, I think. Goodbye, X Man. I hope you had a good life. As the Horseman advances to begin his grisly task of beheading the helpless Weapon X, the Black Widow, hidden in the shaddows one level above, takes deadly aim with her pistol. Three shots ring out and Nicodemus is hurled backward. Though the injuries inflicted by such trifles as mere bullets are a far cry from the force necessary to kill an eternal, they do accomplish one unforseen goal. The shock of the attack has distracted the Horseman. His concentration broken, the field encasing Logan dissipates. Weapon X is free. Without an adamantium skeleton of his own, Nicodemus quickly falls prey to the claws of X Man. The task done, he turns toward the position the Widow has secreted herself. Weapon X: You can come out now, Romanova. It's over. A graceful dive over the rail followed by a delicate roll, and the Black Widow lands on her feet next to the X Man as he bends over to examine his comrades. The lights have begun to glow again, and soon are back to their full radiance. In their brightness, the Widow's fears are abated as she sees both Gryich and Kravinoff live. Gryich: Anyone get the number of that mutie? Weapon X: Get up. We got ta get outta here. Widow: Comrade Logan, how long did you know I was up above you? Weapon X: Since ya first walked inta the block. I smelled ya. Widow: Do I stink? Weapon X: Not at all lady. Yer tha best thing I smelled since I came ta this country. Widow: What was it you and Nicodemus were talking about for so long? Weapon X: Nothin' any'a us need concern ourselves with. Just the ramblin's of a demented old man. Forget it. Gryich: Kraven's awake. Kraven: Henry, my friend, we have got to work on your aim. Gryich: Yell, well, my weapon'a choice is the grenade launcher. Aim ain't much of a factor with that weapon. Kraven: Then please, (God my shoulder hurts!) leave the marksmanship to somebody else. Gryich: Everyone's a critic! What now? Weapon X: Same as before. We go down. Widow: No! We must go up. We need to find a the secure terminals here, we must find Scimitar. Weapon X: Widow, this whole field trip's been nothing but a cold plate-full'a bad. It's time we get gone. And ta do that, we need ta go down. Gryich: Down? Weapon X: Down. It is three o'clock in the morning and Nightcrawler has just woken up. He barely felt the Black Widow sling him over her shoulder and then deposit him in the janitor's closet after his collapse from exhaustion, but now, he feels everything, and everything hurts. Nightcrawler: Ohhhh! I need a vacation. Of all the sights that could possibly greet the X Man now that he has risen and opened the door a crack to see where he is, Cyber is probably at the bottom of the list. Nightcrawler: $%#@!!!! Caustiously peering down the hall, he sees Cyber and his lackeys openening door after door, in a room to room search. For what? "Gee, I wonder," Nightcrawler thinks. There is no escape. In his condition to run out in the hall is suicide. Teleportion over any type of distance is totally out of the question. But teleporting only a few inches? [Bamf!!] The last of the X Man's strength is expelled as Nightcrawler 'ports himself through the floor and to the room below. Only problem is, the room is rather high. Sixty to eighty feet high in fact, and pitch black. Nearly lifeless, the mutant allows himself to fall. Ordinarily, he would teleport several times in rapid succession to slow his descent, but he is far to exhausted for that now. Let the chips, or in this case, the mutant, fall where he may. He breaks his fall with Clint Barton. Barton: Woomph!! The only thing that saves Nightcrawler from a violent response on the part of Barton is the fact Kurt's sword (the one he didn't give to Barton), sheathed on his back, has pierced the bowman's leg. Barton crawls away from his assailant, and draws one of his last arrows. To get a bead on his attacker, the arrow he has drawn is a flare. It ignites. Barton: Kurt? Nightcrawler looks through the pospherescent glow and sees his companion, arrow knocked, blood gushing from his punctured thigh. Nightcrawler: Ja! Barton, help me up. Barton: And whose supposed to help me up? You stabbed me! Barton limps over and the two help each other stand. Nightcrawler: Where are we? Barton: You ain't gonna believe it unless you see it. His bow tilts high in the air and the arrow sails upward, striking the ceiling. Again the chamber is bathed in dim light. Nightcrawler: Mein Gott!! Barton: Ya can say that again. Nightcrawler: Mein Gott.