12. Shattered Dreams

SUBWAY TUNNELS, NEW YORK CITY, Dec. 11 4:01pm

In a chamber not too far from where Spider-man hung, Sinister watched his monitors with much interest.

He watched as that strange, black clad pair burst from the door of white light, attacking those fools called Warwolves.

He watched as a mysterious golden beam of light destroyed one of the Warwolves. Pity his cameras couldn't spot the source.

And Sinister watched with great interest to see Captain America call the mystery girl 'Ma.'

When Magik leapt to the Captain's rescue, Sinister smiled most unpleasantly. "Have you been watching? Kingpin?"

The bass voice of the crimelord rumbled over the speakers. "Yes. I can see why you called. New elements have entered this game. Unpredictable elements."

"Not quite. Observe the girl with the silver armor and sword. She is Magik, a junior X-man with the ability to travel through time."

"Truly?"

"Yes. It was her that opened those portals these players emerged from. Now, on the one hand, we have a time traveler. On the other, we have two mysterious warriors, one whom the dear Captain has recognized as a relative."

There was a pause as the Kingpin made the intuitive leap to the theory Sinister had already realized.

"Can it be? Our products from the future?"

"Apparently," Sinister said silkily.

"They are trying to kill their progenitor. Why?"

"Perhaps they do not like their existence. No matter. I strongly suggest that we allow the wall-crawler to escape."

"What?" A gigantic thud knocked at the speakers.

"If we do not, the odds are high that these children will indeed commit patricide. And where, may I ask, would that leave us?"

"That blasted bug knows our plans!"

"Indeed," Sinister smiled. "But think of the moral man that Captain America is, and the dilemma we now leave him. If he was told that even one of his own children's existence depended on whether or not he submits to us... what will he do?"

There was silence at first. Then, like the rolling of thunder, the Kingpin began to laugh.

(To close his eyes was to die!)

As much as Steve would have loved oblivion right then, he fought his way back to consciousness. //Phoenix...?//

Nothing. The telepath was nowhere to be felt.

He opened his eyes in time to see the boy-giant lop a Warwolf's head off. Unnoticed by the behemoth, the breath of souls brushed by him, singing their joy.

A8 was too busy looking at Steve with murderous blue and hazel eyes.

Eyes framed by his dead Da's face.

Insane. Get up, Steve told himself. Get up!

Despite an iron will driven by desperation, his legs refused to respond.

Spider-man was beginning to get really frustrated when suddenly; both of his shackles sprang open. "Wha---?"

With great lack of dignity, Spidey fell on his poor bruised butt and let out a yelp. He got up and rubbed his tender tush.

What the heck? Free, just like that?

The muffled sound of an explosion puffed. His Spider-sense buzzed. Uh-oh. Whatever was going on, trouble was a-brewing. Looking around, he spotted his web shooters on the computer table, alongside his comm-card. Scrambling over, he quickly collected his stuff and made for the exit.

He took one last, puzzled look around.

Palming a spider tracer, he crammed it into a doorframe crack and raced down the tunnels. "Hang on, guys! Captain Spidey to the rescue!"

A8 stepped closer to Steve, who tried to fight the disconcerting feeling of seeing his father and his death sharing the same face.

No! I am not checking out yet, his mind screamed.

But the agony! The ache of the soul-wound, this paralyzing pain -- his nerves were so overloaded that all that was left was a massive hurt that would not go away! It drained all the strength of his body, leaving him nothing left to even curl into a ball.

Steve stared death in the face, refusing to show the fear and the rage boiling within. Lord, he prayed, don't let me die like this! Please! If I must die in battle let me die on my feet!

"Hang on, Captain!"

A figure in incomplete white armor hurdled over him, swinging a white- hot blade to challenge A8.

Steve's pupils opened to their fullest, turning his eyes into fathomless black.

He recognized her.

Magik.

His tormentor, swinging the sword...

...the soul-sword...

Air pushed at his throat, his arm convulsed. Captain America's hand split open in a spurt of blood. His skin became translucent and his bones began to glow. The fighting stopped in horror as huge burning sparks erupted from him in a shower of glory.

Steve screamed.

Within her cocoon of stone, Captain America's scream pierced Storm's whimpering mind. "...s-someone... in pain..."

She forced herself to breathe. Slower.

She was Storm. She was an X-man. She would not let her fear rule her. Storm listened and concentrated on thinking.

The maddened scream was a man's. Who's?

She tried to shift her position, but could barely move under the concave metal shielding her from the deadly sharp rocks.

Shield...

Captain America's shield.

Captain America's scream!

"Dear goddess, the Warwolves," she gasped. The Captain was dying and she was helpless---

"No," Storm cried, feeling every wisp of air gather about her. "I am Storm. AND I AM NOT HELPLESS!"

The pile of rocks burst apart as a gale of arctic winds whipped the temperature to below freezing. The sudden cold snatched the very air from everyone's lungs.

Except for the Warwolf.

And Storm.

"Thought I took care of ya," the Wolf hissed.

Storm rose into the air. A cornea of St. Elmo's fire glowed around her... and the Warwolf.

"Blimey," he yelped, turning tail.

Too late.

Storm unleashed the lightning.

The smell of ash filled the air. The release of souls resounded in the wrecked tunnel, beckoning to the only one of the heroes who heard their music. Join us, join us, he heard them sing.

So beautiful, so tempting...

Storm lighted upon the earth, allowing the air to warm to its original temperature. She looked at the chaos strewn about her.

The Captain lay in a boneless heap, sightlessly looking out of fully dilated eyes and gasping like a fish out of water. His left hand was cut to the bone and rested in a frozen puddle of crimson. His whole body trembled violently.

"Goddess, what have I done?" Storm whispered, quickly laying a gentle blanket of warmed air over the fallen veteran. She unclipped her cape and tucked it around him, wincing at the tiny involuntary whimpers he uttered.

"Whoa, gorgeous! That was some entrance."

Storm whipped around to see an enormous young man shove a slab of concrete off of him. A girl with similar blond hair, mismatched eyes and intricate neck tattoo crawled out from under him. "If you need some pointers," he continued, "I can always come by some night----"

"A8, for once shut up and womanize later," the girl said with soft harshness. She got to her feet. "Where's Captain America?"

Storm got to her own feet and stepped between the girl and the Captain. Cautiously, she nodded to him. "He's there."

The child shook her head. "No. Captain America doesn't have any powers. This guy lit up like a firecracker before your grand entrance." Nervously, the girl cracked her knuckles. "Will he be O.K.?" she asked guiltily.

A8 let out a roar of laughter. "First you try to kill him, then geld him, now you want to know if he's 'O.K.' Wooo! Sis, that's a hoot!"

His sister punched him hard in the stomach.

Storm's hands filled with lightning. "Explain yourselves."

"Backstabbers, Storm. They're looking for vengeance at any cost." Crawling from behind the rocks she took shelter from when the Captain was on the verge of exploding, armor and sword now dismissed to the ether, was Magik.

The lightning dissipated. "Magik? Child... oh goddess, he wasn't mad," Storm breathed.

Magik, careful not to be in the Captain's line of sight lest she set him off again, merely nodded wearily. "Storm, if you can watch these three, I'll go rescue Beast. When Piotr digs himself out, tell him---"

"Beast? Piotr? Child, they're not here. Piotr and Beast are both back at the mansion."

Magik's face became wooden. "What? That... that can't be. No, I-I checked and rechecked--- no! They're here!"

A8 began to laugh again.

"No, Magik. They're not here."

"...no... by the White Wolf, NO!" she shrieked. "If-if I was wrong about this one thing..."

A8 laughed harder.

"Stop laughing," Magik screamed, hurling a mage-bolt at his unspeakably smug face.

In a flash, the axes were out. He reflected the shot back at Magik as an exploding knife from A10 followed.

The Siberian cast a stepping disk to swallow the projectiles, forgetting about poor Phoenix in Limbo, who barely missed getting her head blown off.

"Enough," Storm called out sternly, enclosing the trio in separate whirlwinds' eyes. "Instead of one rescue, we now have two! We need to work together---"

"Stick it up your waterspout, blue-eyes," A8 sneered. He would have said more, but a sizable boulder hurtled from nowhere and embedded itself two feet under their very noses. Storm flinched at its landing, releasing the children. None of them moved. They all stared at the blue clad man crouched in the dim light on top of a broken pillar. The white 'A' on his forehead and star on his chest blazed in the gray. Like targets.

"Yo, Storm! These the baddies you left for me to play with, or is this an X-school field trip gone bad?"

Snikt!

"Snikt? Did I hear a snikt? Is Wolvie down here?"

"DIE, YOU BASTARD," A10 screeched, letting her tri-blades bounce a dizzying net of razor edges around the flag draped hero.

"Whoa! Alright! I'm sorry! Wolverine, then! Mr. Wolverine?" The poor guy leapt and cartwheeled frantically. "Augh! Superman! Help!"

Storm smiled at his clowning. Confident the newcomer could handle himself; she concentrated on the task of stopping the Captain's bleeding.

"Wow. This is the first time sis has done anything spontaneous without me," A8 commented. "Looks like fun. Ah, I've had my share of solo fun, she can have hers for once."

The shadows swallowed the fighters, leaving their audience only the sounds of their battle.

Thwip.

"What was that," A8 demanded, frowning.

Thwip.

Thwip.

A10 stumbled from the darkness, shakily peeling webs from her pale face.

A8 took one look at his sister's expression and the blood drained from his own face.

"Cute toy," Spider-man said, swinging A10's weapon around by webbing. "What do you call it?"

"My--a--a charaquin, sir,"A10 whispered.

"Sounds kinda Xena Warrior Princess-ish. So! Are we done? Can we be buds now?"

"I-I-I'm so sorry. I--you--I... I mean..."

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' How about you, slick? Going to take a swing at me too, or can we just skip that and head for Go?"

A8, The Greatest of Them All, was rendered speechless.

But Magik wasn't.

"What are you doing here?" she raged.

"Easy, kiddo," Spider-man said placatingly.

"No! I've never seen you in any of my scryings. What are you doing here!?"

"Magik," Storm said, "it matters not."

"Yes it does! He's a wild card! Nothing's gone right, and all because Spider-man meddled----"

"ENOUGH!" Storm literally thundered. "Spider-man, I need your help. Can your webbings clot the Captain's wound?"

"Cap? What--- whoa! Yes," he said, becoming serious. "I think it can." He bounded over and let a thin stream of webs stick over the nasty cut.

"That is Captain America? Oh, well," A8 said lifting his axe, "the least I can do is put him out of his misery."

Spidey jabbed a finger at A8. "Don't you dare, junior. I promised the Scarlet Witch I'd look out for him."

The young goliath visibly backed down. "But, sir---"

"I said, CAP'S UNDER MY PROTECTION!"

"....'pretiate...the thought..."

Captain America's soft comment went unnoticed by all but Storm. She bent closer to listen to him.

Meanwhile, A8 tried to press his case. "But, sir, you don't know what he's done---"

"Kid, what language do you speak? I said---"

"Dammit, sir," A10 sobbed, "he's condemned us to slavery! We're his kids! We've never known anything but fighting to raise the Slug's stupid ratings!" A8 gathered her into her arms as she raged into the shocked silence. "Sometimes I just want to die . Death is the only freedom from the Slug. But we're the eldest, we gotta watch out for the younger ones, watch them grow up in that miserable place. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

The soft crunch of gravel interrupted her crying. The group looked down to see Storm help the Captain sit up.

Steven Rogers was Captain America, the Sentinel of Liberty, living symbol of a free nation. He looked into the eyes of his own children... and saw all the hate, horror, and brokeness of Auschwitz in them.

He fell on his side and threw up.

FISK TOWER, NEW YORK CITY, Dec. 11 4:27pm

"Did you receive a good transmission from the camera, Mojo?" Kingpin listened to the phone as he sipped his Madeira. "Extra transmissions? From the two children's eyes? How fascinating, your future self must have implanted a camera directly attached to their optic nerve. Is this all that you dreamed of for the Amerikids? Yes, much drama indeed. Even I found myself captivated by this, and the Kingpin is hard to impress. Yes, Sinister is content to lie in wait for the right time. Yes, he is absolutely correct. Let the hero spend time with his children. Then it will only be a matter of time before the dear Captain realizes his dilemma... and acts on it. It will, I believe, be a night of ratings that will rival the peblian Superbowl. It's only a matter of time."