Subject: Brotherly Hate 9/10: A Tale of the AOA Date: Mon, 09 Sep 1996 18:28:31 +0000 From: Snowlock Organization: Corporate Communications Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction Here it is, the Penultimate Chapter in my little saga. Hope you enjoy! Snowlock. ______________ A few hundred feet above ground and on the other side of Kiev's battered walls... Cyclops: Attention! Soldiers of the MLF instantly snap to, those with weapons held before them as an imposing figure strides from the landing platform of his aircraft. Cyclops: Sinister, it is good to see you! The pasty-faced Horseman smiles: It is good to see you too, Scott. How's Alex? Cyclops: Recovering. I think he bit off more than he could chew with the Mandarin. Don't worry though, I have attempted to correct him of his mistakes. Sinister: I'm sure he loved that. Cyclops: Excuse me, Sir? Sinister: Nothing. Scimitar is on its way, but Nicodemus is not. He's dead. Cyclops: What?!? Sinister: We don't know too much yet, but none of our telepaths cannot seem to locate him, Cyber either. Therefore, our lord, En Sabah Nur, summoned me to oversee the final assualt in his place. Cyclops: It is an honor, sir! A soldier walks up to this famous pair: Sirs, our computer specialist has something urgent to report. Cyclops: We'll take it inside the HQ, soldier. Soldier: Very good, sir. Sinister: Well, you've sure got them whipped into shape. The Horseman and the prelate take seats inside the portable HQ and on Cyclops’ que, a holographic image appears before them. His face is is pale and studded with electronic circuitry. His name is Hardrive, and in both this and the forgotten previous reality he is a servant of Apocalypse. Hardive: Horseman Sinister, Prelate Cyclops, our lord's greetings. Sinister: Get on with it, man! Hardrive: It is as you suspected, Sinister. The humans have activated their nuclear arsenal, though they have not yet launched. Sinister: Can you infiltrate their system? Hardrive: With ease. Sinister: Then do so. You have been given the coordinates, correct? Hardrive: Yes. Sinister: Good, then when the missles are launched, and make no mistake, they will be, you will carry out your orders. Hardrive: Very good sir, Hardrive out. And his image fades away. Cyclops: What was that all about? Sinister: Nothing, a trifle really. No need to concern yourself with it, not when you are about to begin today's attack. Cyclops: Is that a go-ahead? Sinister: Yes, my dear prelate. By all means, procede. Cyclops: At once, Sinister. Sinister: Not you, though. Cyclops: What!?! With Alex out, someone has to lead the forces. Sinister: True, but I have invested too much time in you to lose you to a human's stray bullet. Cyclops: But sir, with my optic blast I could... Sinister: Tear down the walls? Yes, I know, but the walls will come down anyway. A plan for their fall has long been in motion. Fear not. Besides, as formidible as you are, Cyclops, I have someone in mind to lead the forces who will yeild up something far more valuable in the long run than the simple destruction of a city. Cyclops: And what is that, sir? Sinister: One man's soul. Her name is Laynia Petrovna; Darkstar. She has just been promoted to prelate by the Horseman, Sinister. Right now, she is hovering over the masses of the MLF soldiers, about to lead them in a final attack against the walls of Kiev. Darkstar: All right, comrades, are you ready to bring this little castle down around their ears!?! The responding shouts and cheers can even be heard on the high battlements of Kiev. Collossus: Comrades! Be ready, they are coming! Darkstar: Charge!!!! And with a shattering war cry the hordes of Apocalypse race toward destiny. On the high stone balcony of his quarters, Mikhail Rasputin watches as the mutants charge. He thinks the walls themselves must be shaking as the soldiers of En Sabah Nur slam against them in their heated rush. Ladders are hoisted, and row after row of mutants scale them, struggling to gain the top of the battlements. It does not take them long. The exhausted Russians and Genoshans are soon clashing with the mutants that have made it to the top. The fighting looks bitter from here, but Mikhail can only image what savagery it must be up close. Occasionally he'll catch a glimpse of shiny metalic armor, the X Man Colossus, the man he once called brother. Now he is more inclined to call him traitor as the armored behemoth smashes his way through those who Mikhail is rapidally coming to call his brethren, throwing them off the walls, snapping necks, pushing ladder's backward. Were it not for Piot... Collosus, the Russians and hated Genoshans would not long last the assualt. Perhaps now is at long last the time? It is, Mikhail knows it; it is time to finally, irrevocably choose sides, but which? "You know which, tovarisch." Mikhail: Ah, Androv, I was wondering when you would show yourself again. The Soul Skinner detaches himself from the shadows and walks up to Mikhail. Skinner: In case you have not noticed, Kiev is a particularly dangerous place for me. I must exercise the utmost caution. Mikhail: You fear these humans? Skinner: And you? What could it be besides fear that keeps you with them? Mikhail: Loyalty. Skinner: Hah! Loyalty. Loyal to who, then? The Genoshans? They oppressed mutants for decades, even now the hate being led by your brother, even as Colossus saves their lives. The allies of the Free Council then. Men like the Mandarin and Baron Von Strucker. How much they appreciate your loyalty, Nikoleivtich! Mikhail: I warn you, do not mock me. Skinner: I do not! (he sweeps his hand toward the wall's defenders) They do! You are anathema to them, Mikhail, a lepar, pariah. Tell me, do even your fellow Russians treat you any better? I can see it in your eyes they do not; you can see it in theirs. Mikhail: So you would have me betray them? Skinner: You can only betray that to which your alliegence has been freely given. Have you done this? Have you ever felt you were a part of these people? Have you ever belonged? Mikhail: No. Skinner: You belong with us, Mikhail. You _belong_with... The prelate points to a hazy shadow hovering over the beseiged wall. Skinner: HER!!!! Mikhail follows the Soul Skinner's outstretched arm, and he sees... Could it be? He squints: golden hair, a certain grace with which she carries herself high above the wall, but most telling, absences of light that flow from her fingertips, raking the human defenders, casting them off the wall, slaughtering them. Mikhail: Laynia? Skinner: Yes! She has come for you, Nikoleivitch. Will you deny her? The wall. Colossus: Laynia!?! He does not have time to do more than register his shock as the pure dark force of her attack wrapps itself around one of his armored arms. He snaps the black substance violently, and Darkstar recoils. He picks up a nearby MLF soldier, hefts him above his shoulders, and hurls him at his helpless commander. Darkstar dodges easily, but she doesn't bother to save him from his fall. Instead, the Darkforce smashes into the top of the wall, weaving a lattice work of the black substance around it, through it. A mental command, and a goodly section of the already badly damaged wall is torn away, falling inside the city on top of rapidly approaching Russian reinforcements. Still, some help has arrived. The cybernetic Australians have joined the fray. Cyborgs, Genoshans, and Russian militiamen grimly battle hand to hand the inexorable forces of Apocalypse atop the wall. The leader of the Australians, a cyborg named Bonebreaker whose legs have been replaced by what seems to be minature tank treads is abruptly killed. He was been slain by a skeletal being called Deadbolt, who throws actual pieces of his own skeleton at his foes, charging them first with electricity. He then continues to work his way through the Cyborgs, but is killed at last by Skullbuster, co-leader of the Australians and Bonebreaker's peer. Still, there are more than enough mutants to take his place. The commander of the Genoshans, Majcomb's XO, Phillip Moreau, falls soon after, the life sucked right out of him by a female psionic vampire named Lifeforce. She ever so slowly makes her way through the Genoshans, everyone she touches falling dead as her power grows. Not far away, where the Russians under Alexi Vahzin are struggling almost vainly against Apocalypse's reavers, the mutant named Riptide has reached the top of the battlement. He begins to spin wildly, is soon a blur, and then spikes, shurikens, and other assorted shrapnel are crazily launched into the surrounding Russian defenders. It is like watching a tomato in a blender on puree. Still, the defenders are holding. Were it not for the Sentinal continually sparying the walls with his gatlin guns, however, that would not long be the case. Darkstar has made to attempts at the humans' robot, both times it was strong enough to break free of ther darkforce, forcing her to fall back under the returning fire. She keys her comlink: Unuscione, come in! From her battle atop the wall the mutant called Unuscione looks up. Unuscione: Unuscione here, Darkstar. Darkstar: Be ready, one sentinal coming your way! Darkstar attacks the Sentinal again, and again, it breaks it's ebon bonds. Abruptly, Darkstar dives toward the wall, toward Unuscione. The sentinal follows in a steep dive. As the Sentinal roars directly over the wall, Unuscione traps it. She has the ability to generate a virtually unbreakable psionic exoskeleton. Halted, the Sentinal aims it guns downward, to erase his tormentor. He doesn't get the chance. Darkstar combines her own unique abilities to Unusciones, wrapping the trapped Sentinal is a bubble of Darkforce. Together with her subordinate's exoskeleton, Darkstar and Unuscione crush the Sentinal into so much junk. Mikhail's balcony. Skinner: You see! She is a warrior born, tovarisch. Thus my question must be; are you? And if you are not, are you worthy of her? Mikhail says nothing, he just continues to watch the love of his life battle her enemies. The Soul Skinner inwardly smiles as he glances down and sees Mikhail's hands clenched tightly into fists. With the destruction of the Sentinal, the spirits of the defenders would have soon been crushed if not for the timely arrival of yet more reinforcements. The Mandarin's imperial guard have joined the fray. Oriental spears and scimitars add their lethal edges to the Russian's and Genoshan's guns. Colossus battles his way over to the oncoming reinforcements and greets their leader, the diminutive Chen Hsu. Colossus: Little Father, I am glad you are here, but perhaps it would be safer if you fell back and left you men under my care. Chen Hsu smiles, as does his immediate entourage, a squad of ornately armored samurai. There should have been nine in his entourage total, but since Chen Hsu and these men are actually beings tied directly to the Mandarin's rings, and five of those rings were destroyed by the prelate Cyclops. Chen Hsu: That is unnecessary mortal. As you will see in a moment, I, and my guard, are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Colossus: Boize moi! Before Piotr's very eyes, the flesh of these five men abruptly darkens, their faces elongate, their clothing and armor shred as their mass bulges and grows, wings sprout from their backs, and these five men have transformed at long last into that which they were oh so long ago... Dragons. With screams that pull every combatant's attention away from their opponent, the five dragons leap into the air and fall upon the MLF soldiers below, spraying fire, or raking them with their claws. The defenders scream their war cries and the battle is again joined. A hundred miles north and a hundred yards up. Barton: Yyeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwww!!!!!!!!!!! Clint Barton hasn't had this much fun for as long as he can remember. And who'd'a thunk it? After all, the idea of strapping yourself onto the back'a one'a dese enemy mutant/robot thingies didn't seem too appealing at the time, but now that he's on it, soaring just above the tree tops at at least one hundred miles an hour, he's having the time of his life. Barton: Ain't it great, Henry Pete!?! On the Infinite flying next to Barton's, Henry Peter Gryich has found much less value in this mode of transportation. In fact, ol' Hen hasn't puked this many time in a row since he was a kid; while sober, that is. His only consolation is he tries to hold the puke back until Barton drops behind him a bit. Then he lets go, hoping the slipstream will spray it all over the bowman. No such luck. So far. On the two infinites in front of them, Weapon X and Nightcrawler have strapped theirs together so they can plan what to do next. Both of them are badly injured from their battle with Cyber, but the mere sight of the seemingly millions of Scimitar soldiers replaced that physical pain with something that can be much more deadly, the pain of dread. As they left Minsk, the four survivors looked down and saw that the prison was not the only storage unit for the project. Litterally hundreds of buildings had opened wide, walls and roofs became doors, as Scimitar poured forth by the hundreds of thousands. Weapon X: Well, we got two choices; one, we can get off these boys before Kiev and make our way in real sneaky like, or two, we can ride 'em all the way to the walls and hop off there. Only problem with that is, eventually, these boys're gonna be turned off auto-pilot and realize we ain't friendlies. Nightcrawler: Ja. But another problem is, if Apocalypse has already attacked with the MLF, the city is quite possibly beseiged. If we get off early, we have to fight our way through the horde. Accch! A no-win situation. Weapon X: Comes with tha territory. On Kiev's embattled wall, everyone momentarily stopped to watch the spectacle of five dragons taking flight; everyone but one: Simon Williams. As soon as the dragons were off, the pain returned to Simon's abdomen a thousandfold. He screams and hunches over, dropping his rifle Vahzin sees the American go down and fights his way to his side. Vahzin: Williams! Williams, do you live!?! Simon's head abruptly jecks upward, and Alexi starts; the American's eyes now glow yellow! Williams: Alexi, get back!! Yeeearrgh!!! Suddenly, the bulges in Simon's abdomen burst, his arms and spine contort, his skin turns green, and Simon Williams is no more, transformed into the parasitical metamorph called Rakkus. He raises his many-horned swanp-green head and bellows to his master! Rakkus: Apocalypse, it is done!!! The claws on his swollen fingers are at least eight inches long, and Vahzin dies as they are raked across his throat. Colossus: Alexi! Fire blasts from Rakkus's befanged jaws, setting ablaze many of the Russian defenders. A thick, spiked tail maims and kills as it thrashes about behind him. Colossus slams into the mutant, but even his great strength isn't enough against this monsterous powerhouse. The creatures mass actually expands! In moments it will be at least nine feet high. Effortlessly it bats Colossus backward off the wall. Skullcrusher of the cybernetic Australians sees the mutant coming for his position, close to the newly errected barricade stopping the whole created by Havok yesterday when he destroyed the gates to the city. Skullbuster: 'E's 'eadin' f'r tha gate!! We gotta stop 'im, mates! But not even the advanced cybernetics of Skullbuster's men are proff against Rakkus's onslaught. Now the mutant is twenty feet tall, as he slaughters his way toward the barricade, his clawed feet crush the battlement under his ever increasing weight. Skullbuster is the last Australian to fall, his head and torso a firey, smashed ruin when Rakkus finally reaches the barricade. Above, the dragons sense the danger, and two of them break off their route of a small portion of the MLF forces to attack the great beast. Rakkus snarls in pain as dragon-fire scorches his back and shoulder while he begins the task of shattering the barricade. Piece by piece he rips metal sheeting, wooden beems, cement blocks, everything the humans have piled up in their effort to block the hole created by Havok. And as he goes about his work, badly burned by now, he awaits his opening; one of those dragons is bound to get too close. It happens quickly. The dragon named Fing Fang Foom swoops closer than prudence would suggest to the giant mutant, and Rakkus dives for the dragon's tail, grasping it in his bitter claws. He swings the dragon around twice and then lets it fly. The dragon's massive bulk smashes into the barricade and it collapses. The way is now clear for the forces of Apocalypse to enter the city. The other dragon, this one in fact the leader, Chen Hsu, dives for Rakkus, and the two immortal enemies hurl through the newly recreated opening, claws gouching, tails slashing, fangs biting, fire spewing everywhere. Barton: Hey! I can see my house from here! Indeed, he can. Kiev, just small dot on the horizon moments before, has steadily grown. The survivors of the Minsk mission can see the forces of Apocalypse arrayed around the city. Nightcrawler: Weapon X, I think we should hop off early. These things could become congnizant of us at any moment. Weapon X: Yeah, elf (don't look at me like that), you're right. It's time to jump these tracks. We'll make it into the city on our own. Nightcrawler: If there is a city left to get to. Weapon X just nods in sad agreement. Barton: Hey, are those dragons? Colossus didn't think a fall from that height could hurt him in his armored form, but as he struggles to stand from where he had until just moments ago lain senseless, he is forced to shake his head a little to clear the cobwebs. Laying next to him, his corpse in sickening contortions, is Alexi Vahzin, killed during Rakkus's attack. "Oh, Alexi, not you too," Piotr thinks, and then is doubly greatful for his current form; when armored, the tears will not flow. His brief reverie is interrupted as the sky again turns black. How can this be, though. The primary directives of the Sentinals were to take out the whether weilders. They both accomplished this before they were destroyed. Wait a moment, those are not clouds. Like a tame sworm of hornets, the mutant cyborgs of Project Scimitar that will ever after this day be termed Infinites, have completed their journey and gather above the ill-fated city. In the next instant, they are unleashed. The balcony. Skinner: Beautiful, are they not. This is Project Scimitar, Mikhail. This is the might of En Sabah Nur! Mikhail: Boize moi. The Infinites swoop down on the city in droves, blasting away at the now retreating defenders, killing them as they run from shelter. The battlements collapse, and the hordes of Infinites and MLF pour through the gaps, songs of victory on their lips. The dragons, the last hope of the humans, are brought down by the swarms of infinites, covering them like killer bees until the massive creatures finally drop from the shear numbers of their enemies clinging to their scaly hides. Through the center of what is left of the barricade, Mikhail watches as his Laynia enters the city. Mikhail: Beautiful is she not, Androv. Androv? The Soul Skinner is gone. Laynia Petrovna likes playing the conquerer. She enjoys the watching these pitiful humans scurry like sewer rats to escape the marauding Infinites. However, playing the conquerer has its price... And the Mandarin has come to claim his due. Darkstar: Begone, One-hand! Run while you still can! Scurry even! But do not tempt my wrath. Mandarin: Woman, you do not know the meaning of the word wrath! He only has five rings now, the others, along with his had, vaporized just yesterday by the optic blast of the prelate Cyclops. His white-light ring fires, and the gravitational pull around Darkstar is abruptly increased. She drops to the ground heavily. Darkstar: You'll pay for that, flatscan! Her darkforce flows from her fingers, envoloping the Mandarin. Using his desintagrator ring, he easily cuts his way out. He fires again, blasts of cold, heat and electricity are ineffectual against Darkstar's hastily errected darkforce defenses. Then the impact ring fires, shattering her shield. The disintegrator fires again, and a hole the size of a dime is cut through Laynia Petrovna's heart. The balconey. Mikhail watches in horror as the love of his life falls lifeless to the ground. He says nothing, no tears come. He has lost loved ones before, but he will never do so again. Not because he'll protect those who're left, but because he will no longer love anything ever again. As these anguised thoughts creep into his mind, a portal appears and Mikhail steps through. Colossus pauses in his battle with the four Infinites who have been striving to prevent him from regaining the wall and what's left of his command. He watches in horror as he sees the Mandarin kill Darkstar, horror not for himself, or even for Laynia, but for Mikhail. This will finally push him over the edge. "Yes, it will." What? Colossus is slammed to the cround, the Soul Skinner has struck. The monsterous form of the Soul Skinner is crouched on top of Colossus's prone form, his fingers actually melting into Piotr's skull. He hears the minion of Apocalypse inside his head. Skinner: Do you know me, X Man? Of course not. I am the Soul Skinner. I am the one who attacked your brother and sister back at the collective. I am the one who has been periodically visiting your brother to convince him of the way of En Sabah Nur. Colossus: What do you want of me? Skinner: Why, to keep the family intact, of course. Look. Your brother has attacked the Mandarin, he has finally chosen sides, your time too, has come. Colossus inwardly cries out in fear for his brother's soul as Mikhail suddenly appears before the Mandarin who is preoccupied with fending off attacking Infinites. Gently, ever so gently, Mikhail rolls Laynia Petrovna's lifeless form over and holds her close. Mikhail: You have done this. Mandarin: What of it, Rasputin? She is just an enemy, a mutant. Mikhail: _I_ am a mutant, you bastard, and I am most definately an enemy!! The Mandarin's eyes widen in fear at the young Russian's rage. The rings of power glow with anticipation. They will soon glow no longer. Mikhail Rasputin has the power to change the shape of matter on a molecular level. Those rings on the Mandarins fingers are his primary targets. Before the disintegrator beam can fire, the ring has already warped, extending itself, as have all the others. Like golden tentacles, they reach out for their master's throat, and before he can scream, the Mandarin is dead, garroted by the metal of what were once his precious rings. With the death of the master of the rings, the rings themselves, distorted beyond recognition, are destroyed. Their destruction means for the dragons, of who only Fing Fang Foom and Chen Hsu are left, victorious over the mutatant Rakuss whose shredded, blackened corpse lies sprawled beyond the walls, death as well; their power broken, their long tenure on this young planet at its end. Mikhail stands, cradeling his dead lover hin his arms over the fallen Mandarin as the Infinites swarm and whirl above him. Like a savage, he howls his rage and sorrow, and the earth itself seems to shake with his violence. He attacks these humans, these people he wanted all his life to call his friends and family, but now Rasputin knows those times are past. He has a new family now, and it is time to be initiated into it. Walls buckle and collapse, the ground itself rises up to fall on human companies already beleagured by the scores of Infinites. If the collapse of the defense of Kiev was before unorganized, now it becomes chaotic. Defenders break formations, running in all directions trying to escape the combined might of Infinites, beserker MLF soldiers, and most of all, the fury of a man who in one way was once of their own, but in another, so tragically different. Men and mutants rush by the prone Colossus, unaware of his entaglement with the Soul Skinner and the battle that is about to begin there. Nor will they ever be. The battle will be an inward one. It will be the battle for yet another man's soul. Colossus: What have you done, you devil? Skinner: Done, nothing really. Mine is only the power to peel away those natural psychic defenses we all erect to block out what we perceive to be the harmfull truth. With your older sibling, I only showed him what he already knows to be true. Colossus: Liar!! Skinner: Ah, now you are doing it, denying the truth. Here, let me show you. The Soul Skinner digs deeper into the psyche of this X Man, peeling away layer and layer of denial. The battle on the outside has raged closer to Colossus. Von Strucker's Hydra have counter attacked, seeking to drive these raiders back from Kiev's ruined walls. Von Strucker: To me, mine Hydra! To me! He and his men charge headlong into a much larger force of MLF mutants. Von Strucker: Hail, Hydra!!! And the two groups clash. Colossus has never felt the like in all his young years. He is totally helpless as the Skinner digs deeply in his mind. All of the psychic defenses Magneto and Jean Grey have taught him, fall to the Skinner's probe. He screams, yet outwardly makes no sound. Deep in his mind's eye, Colossus perceives the Soul Skinner's true form. The tentacle haired, fang toothed, grey face with the red eyes. The long arms and the sharp yellow claws. It is those claws that Colossus fears. What manifests itself as a great wooden door with long iron hinges and a great handle, Colossus knows to be the barrier he put up to block out the truth of his brother. The Soul Skinner has come knocking. The door bursts with an unheard crash and wood splinters fly everywhere over Piotr's brainscape. Soul Skinner: Well, young Rasputin, I have certainly encountered stronger defenses than this. Perhaps you are aware of the truth already? We shall see. And the Skinner enters the door. Inside is a murky, sticky blackness, with which a casual wave of the hand the Soul Skinner dissolves. Underneath this filth is what Piotr perceives as the true nature of his brother. Images start flitting through his mind, recent images. Mikhail's obvious disapproval of Colossus joining the X Men. "Why?" the younger brother remembers wondering back then. Now it no longer seems unclear. The image blurs, and reforms. Colossus notes truely for the first time, at his mother's funeral, the look on his brother's face. Not sadness, not grief, but hate. His brother turns his head, and Colossus sees where that hate is directed. Two men are standing closest to the priest performing the service, Alexi Vahzin; and Nikolai Rasputin, their father. Mikhail did not blame Apocalypse for his mother's death, he blamed the resistance. The scene shifts again, this time to the medical center minutes after the Minsk party left through the portal Mikhail had created. The look on his face then, the betrayal of Piotr's comrades, the deception of weakness, this was not the look of a man torn between two opposing worlds, this was a look of resolve, the look of... a traitor. Colossus: Oh, Mikhi. Skinner: Ah, so now you begin to truly see, Nikoleivitch. You see your brother as he truly is, not a man lied to or subverted, but a man who made his choices of his own free will. Let us find out, shall we, if you can do the same?