From: swpwarrior@aol.com (Swpwarrior) Subject: X-Men: Dawn of Ascension Chapter One by Swp. Date: 27 Jul 1997 03:56:55 GMT X-Men: Dawn of Ascension Chapter One {Cover: All black backdrop with four X-Men acting as {pallbearers carrying a coffin above their shoulders. All {facing front walking toward the reader, staring ahead with {serious expressions in formal black suits. The coffin at a {slightly downward angle, view over-top. Bobby Drake and {Sam Guthrie in front on either side of the casket, Hank {McCoy and Scott Summers partially obstructed behind. {In print "Burying The Past."} Prologue The Book of the Twelve: And I saw the Dark Lord approach and with him the horizon became black as night. {Open with three consecutive elaborate, different angled panels {of religiously themed stained-glass windows, brilliantly colored. {Each crossed by a close-up textual panel of a woman's hand {writing in elegant calligraphy style in a large, old and worn {journal/book. The written word of The Book of the Twelve acting {as narrative as she writes. [1]} The Book of the Twelve: And the horizon was filled with stars as of the sky. And from the sky came the Wrath of Judgment everlasting. {Panel pulls back to a wide establishment shot of a huge {gothic interior of a church altar, late at night, darkness and {shadows surround, the closer rows of the empty and vast {congregational seats visible in the lower portion of the panel. {A single nun kneels at the base of the altar writing in the {large book amid a labyrinth of candles, her back to the {reader. Sounds of rolling thunder from the approaching {storm -- RRRUUUMMMBBBLLLEEE!!!} Narrative: The Mount Saint Francis monastery along the northern coast of France. 1919. [2] {Panel draws near her as she continues to write, beside her {rolled in a velvet wrap is the handle of a shimmering silver {sword. The writing continues to narrate.} The Book of the Twelve: And the Dark Lord's fury was unmatched. For with his rage he had Ascended. And the blood of the people flowed with him, endlessly across the desert plain. {The panel continues to pull close along her side as she {continues to write. We see the first glimpse of her delicate {face. The storm draws nearer -- RRRUUUMMMBBBLLLEEE!!!} The Book of the Twelve: And I turned to look to the countless stars, as did the people. And there was no answer, save the end. {The panel comes around to face the nun, her head bowed {slightly, continuing to write. Behind her the entirety of the {cavernous, dimly lit and completely empty gathering hall, {slightly out-of-focus.} The Book of the Twelve: For his return shall signal the coming. And with him... {The wind blows hard, a gust races over her habit, blowing out {candles, as she turns startled to look back. Her face revealed {for the reader for the first time -- think Juliette Binoche.} The Book of the Twelve: ...The Twelve. {She rises staring out into the empty rows of old thick wooden {benches and the empty gathering hall. She is completely {physically un-intimidating, perhaps 5'6", thin, delicate and {beautiful -- yet plain -- face unencumbered by the slight habit, {she shouts.} Nun: Show yourself! (Translated from the French) {A voice calls out from the dark in answer as lightning strikes -- {KRAKOOM!!!} Voice: Hidden here in this holy site. Among men pure of soul who would protect one such as you. An admirable ploy, my dear. But wasted nonetheless. They don't know you like I do, Marie. And as I always told you... {A version of Apocalypse steps slowly from the shadows. His {appearance almost identical to that of the "Rise of Apocalypse" {series -- large and muscular, but not the full-scale monster of {his common appearances. His flesh a bluish/gray, his long {flowing black hair pulled back in a pony-tail, wearing a stylized {Egyptian robe. He carries himself in a distinguished and regal {manner. A hint of humanity in his eyes as the lightning {draws light to his face -- KRAKOOOM!!!} Apocalypse: ...I can find you anywhere. {Panel reverse as he approaches the altar. Marie takes a {strong step forward to face him.} Apocalypse: After all these years...you are still so beautiful. {She pulls the habit from her head, revealing her unkempt {closely cut crop of black hair. Her strength is all in her eyes.} Marie: I am as you made me, Nur.... As you cursed me. {His eyes tighten to cold and evil. The storm is here -- {RRRUUUMMMBBBLLLEEE!!! -- KRAKOOOM!!!} Apocalypse: And still you look upon me with eyes of hatred. You deny what you are. You deny why we are here. You deny what must be done. And you leave me no choice. {Candra and Gideon begin to emerge slowly from the shadows {behind Apocalypse, moving through the benches, slowly {encircling Marie, who stands her ground. [3]} Apocalypse: Where is he? {Marie reaches down and pulls the sword, holding it over her {head, then to her side ready in form. Anger and hatred in {her eyes, contempt in her voice, energy beginning to radiate {from her body. Lightning lighting up her face -- KRAKOOOM!!! {Suddenly her delicate beauty is replaced by ferocity, she {hisses.} Marie: Safe from you. {Krule and Selene and a huge blue figure (the character {known as Wolverine as depicted in X-Men Chronicles #2 {during the "Age of Apocalypse" storyline) emerge slowly {behind Apocalypse. [4] All slowly moving toward Marie, {through the benches and aisles, slowly encircling her. {Apocalypse's evil chills with soulless eyes -- {RRRUUUMMMBBBLLLEEE!!!} Apocalypse: No, Marie. {Absalom, Burke, Nicodemus and a black man with long {braided hair join the others (see WB #16 for design), all {encircling her, centering on Apocalypse. [5] Lightning lights {through the one of the stained glass windows, shattering {it and striking into the hall -- KRAKOOOM!!! KRRESSHH!!! {-- letting the storm in.} Apocalypse: No one is safe from me. {Wind bursts through the hall furiously through the shattered {window as the storm invades the monastery hall. Marie stands {firm with her sword, plasma energy beginning to radiate around {her body as she shouts defiantly in the wind, pointing at {Apocalypse -- WHOOOOSH!!!!} Marie: You couldn't defeat me before, Nur! You know I'll die to protect him! {Apocalypse stands coldly, as his Externals, their own energy {primed, form a semi-circle around Marie -- who glows brighter {and brighter with energy, raising her sword -- wind blowing {furiously, lightning striking, thunder rolling. The rain blowing {sideways against his face.} Apocalypse: Yes, Marie. {Panel tight on Marie as she holds her breath, closing her eyes, {her energy burning like a star, preparing to ignite.} Apocalypse: I know you will. {Exterior panel of the massive gothic castle on Mount Saint {Francis as it explodes outward -- KRAKKA BOOOM THOOOM!!! {-- as the stain glass windows all shatter and burn with light and {debris fills the air. Burning pages fly through the air amid the wind {and smoking debris, focusing on a single page which flies closer {to the reader.} ~~~~~~Swpwarrior Presents... {The page comes closer, flipping over for the reader to the side {which has been written on, twisting in the wind.} The continuing story of The Uncanny X-Men... {The page comes clear, right upon the reader, two large words {pressed against the panel: "The Twelve."} "Wake"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1. Narrative: Manhattan. 4:23 A.M. {So early in the morning it is still dark, Storm dressed warmly {in an overcoat makes her way silently up the rickety staircase {of Bobby and Sam's run down apartment building.} Narrative: Ororo Monroe does not frighten easily. In her years, she has faced down otherworldly demons, mad gods and alien hordes. Yet it is now...as she prepares to face her friend... {Storm stands at the door of Bobby's apartment and rings the {bell -- BBBRRRRR -- her hand somewhat shaking. No answer.} Narrative: ...that her hand trembles with fear. {She rings again, longer and louder -- BBBBBBRRRRRRR!!! {Storm recoils startled as she hears the sounds of objects {crashing and someone stumbling destructively to the door -- {KRASH!!! BAM!!! KRANG!!! A groggy voice calls out from {behind the door.} Voice: J-Just a...minute... Be r-right... right there... {Bobby opens the door, standing in plaid flannel boxers and an {oatmeal thermal top, the sleeves rolled-up, his hair tossed {around, obviously just woken up from a deep sleep, eyes {squinting to focus for recognition.} Iceman: S-Storm? Storm: Good morning, Robert. {Storm steps through the door, Bobby turns after her, confused.} Storm: May I come in? Iceman: S-Sure. {Storm moves to the couch in the darkened, beyond messy {apartment -- empty beer bottles and discarded pizza boxes {lie about. A party has obviously occurred.} Storm: I apologize for disturbing you this early in the morning, Robert. Your mother phoned Warren's apartment urgently. She tried to reach you here repeatedly... {Storm picks up the telephone from the floor, the receiver off {the hook. Holding the receiver up in one hand, she places the {receiver back on the phone, handing it to Robert.} Storm: ...but could not get through. {Bobby takes the telephone a bit embarrassed.} Iceman: Yeah...I guess things got a little out of hand. {Storm sifts through party left-overs on the couch, attempting {to sit down.} Storm: Did you entertain last night, Robert? {Sam Guthrie, sleeping on the couch, shoots his head up {from underneath the pile of pillows, startling Storm. He {says with true disorientation.} Cannonball: 'R-RoRrO...?? {Bobby hastily cleans up.} Iceman: Uh, yeah...some neighbors came by and-- {Bobby stands there holding an arm-full of trash, finally {coming to, stopping himself mid-sentence.} Iceman: Why are you here, again? {Storm moves to him, putting her hand on his arm.} Storm: Perhaps we should go someplace else. Narrative: Chandilar, throneworld of the galaxy spanning Shi'ar empire and its Majestrix Lilandra. [6] {Panel switches to an image of Charles Xavier moving {powerfully through the Invisible Woman's shields, breaking {through, battering the Heroes amid fire and wild psionic {energy. Voice-over.} Voice: ...As you can see the being of such immense power was none other than Charles Xavier. {Panel pulls back to a darkened meeting room in Lilandra's {royal court, as aliens of a myriad of species seated at an {oddly shaped command table view a circular holographic {image of Onslaught's rampage above the table. Lilandra's {elder counsel Araki continues, then pauses.} Araki: As Onslaught, he was well on his way to shattering the astral realm and the fabric of corporeal reality...threatening the existence of the entire Earth plane. He was... {Panel reveals Lilandra, trying to remain strong, heart breaking {underneath, Gladiator standing protectively nearby.} Lilandra: Continue, Araki. {Back to Araki standing before the image of Onslaught.} Araki: He was...destroyed...moments from fulfilling his agenda. We believe strongly he is no longer a threat. None of the empire's finest telepaths have been able to detect even a trace of his continued presence. {Panel shows Lilandra anguished, looking away. Her hand held {to her face.} Araki: ...Your Majestrix, we all realize this is difficult-- {Lilandra cuts him off, trying to recover, keeping her welling {eyes from tearing. Telling herself as much as her council.} Lilandra: I-I am the Majestrix Shi'ar... I acknowledge your concern, Araki, but I do not need to be coddled. Tell me now... If he is no longer a threat to the empire, then why did you call this emergency council meeting? {Araki stands with his arms folded behind him, a grim expression.} Araki: Your Majestrix... a near omnipotent deity with power to alter reality on a global scale and unify almost six billion minds into a single consciousness was stopped in what amounted to a cosmic blink of an eye. That is why we are here today. {Lilandra's eyes open wide.} Lilandra: By whom was he stopped, Araki? {The panel halts on Lilandra's stunned expression, as she {stares at a new image.} Araki: Not by whom, Majestrix. By what. {Then pulls to the image, replayed over and over of the brief {moment of the Phoenix engulfing the entirety of Earth, viewed {from space.} Araki: Our greatest fear has been realized... There can be no doubt... Phoenix lives. 3. Narrative: Manhattan. 5:04 A.M. {Panel opens on Bobby holding open the door of a {Starbucks-esque coffee house for Storm as they exit {into the orangeish early morning light, coffee in hand. {She does not look at him as she passes him, he looks {to her quizzically.} Storm: Thank you, Robert. Iceman: Umm... You're welcome. {Bobby trails past her into the deserted and still dark early {morning street, as usual a step behind her. They are {immediately adjacent to Bryant Park behind New York's {Central Library.} Iceman: Look, Storm... You're starting to scare me. You wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me something, right? Can you just end the suspense? {Storm turns full center and says plainly with no hesitation.} Storm: Your father suffered a massive coronary last night in his sleep. He died early this morning, Robert. {Bobby half-smiles with a look of momentary disbelieving {horror, making an inaudible noise.} Iceman: H-He... Wh-What? {Storm moves to him, compassion regained.} Storm: I am truly sorry, Robert. Your father has passed away. {Bobby pulls away, his eyes open wide, staring away. Thoughts {forming too quickly to express or comprehend.} Iceman: N-No. He-He can't--He can't be-- {Storm reaches for him again, again he pulls away, frantically.} Storm: Robert, It's-- Iceman: I didn't get a chance. I mean I didn't get a chance to tell him, I-- Oh, God! {He begins running down the street, panicked. Storm runs after {him.} Storm: Robert! Don't run from me! {She grabs him, forcibly pulling him close as Bobby begins to {sob in the middle of the street, out of breath.} Storm: It's all right, Robert! It's going to be all right! {He tries to pull away, she won't let him.} Iceman: No, it's not! I can't talk to him now! I can't--I can't tell him! {Panel close on Bobby tearing eyes staring wildly at Ororo, {trying desperately to spit out words in between sobs, still {trying to pull away, panicked.} Iceman: Oh, God! The last thing--The last thing I said-- We were fighting! We were-- Oh, Jeezus, Ororo! Oh, Jeezus! What am I going to do?! What am I going to do?! Wh-What-- {He finally collapses against her, panel pulls away, silently.} Iceman: ...wh-what...what am I going to do...? 4. Narrative: Long Island. Three days later. {Panel pulls from a closing car door as formally dressed {mourners are shown walking up a slight slope toward a {gathering of mourners dressed in black at the burial site {of William Drake on a gloomy, cold and windy, gray {afternoon. Panel pulls above and forward as Scott and {Jean approach to a gathering of X-Men dressed in black {-- Gambit, Rogue, Wolverine, Storm, Cannonball, and {Iceman. A technician's voice-over narrates.} Technician's Voice: Retinal camera link established. Targets identified and confirmed. Beginning feed, sir. {The panel holds to the same image as seen framed through {various technical measurements and read-out's on a view {screen. A man's voice is heard framing the panel.} Man's Voice: If you would please all direct your attention to the screen, I would like to acquaint you with the most serious -- and now last obstacle to achieving our goal. Iceman. Cannonball. Rogue. Gambit. Storm. Wolverine. {Panel pulls back to show the view of the scene from a {dark, dungeon-like setting. The man stands before the {screen, a dark-haired woman at his side, both dressed in {wealthy 18th century attire, shadowed. The screen focuses {on the X-Men.} Man: They are the X-Men. {Panel pulls to the side, showing three mutants standing in {various relaxed positions along a row. The same handsome {black man, his braided hair pulled in a pony-tail, from the {opening Prologue, leaning back casually against the table, {his arms folded. Next to him a somewhat slimly built man {with a black coif of hair crouched upon the table. Next to {him a woman with tightly cut, shoulder-length blonde hair, {deep green eyes, arms back bracing her up as she leans. {All are dressed in appropriate 18th century attire.} Man: They are among the most powerful, most cunning, most dangerous mutants on the planet... {Panel returns back to the view screen as Sebastion Shaw {steps from the shadows, Tessa at his side. [7]} Sebastion Shaw: They are my oldest enemies. They are our targets, ladies and gentlemen. {Panel moves over his head back to the image, full, of the {X-Men and the endless rows of graves behind them.} Sebastion Shaw: Who dies first? Voice (Iceman's): Thanks for coming, guys. {Panel to Jean hugging Bobby.} Jean Grey: Oh, Bobby, of course. You know we're always here for you. {He pulls away, panel showing Scott standing near, Beast {and Wolverine behind Bobby. The other X-Men and many {undisclosed mourners in the background, taking their {places beside the open grave for the eulogy.} Iceman: Yeah... I know. Cyclops: You holding up okay, Bobby? {Panel to Bobby, eyes pulling further away. A young {woman whispers to her parents then moves to Bobby.} Iceman: Yeah... You know me. I'll be okay. {The woman calls to him as Bobby turns startled.} Voice (Lauren's): Heya, Sport. Iceman: L-Lauren? {Panel turns full to her. A young woman -- about Bobby's {age, early 20's, medium length dirty blonde hair, deep blue {eyes, slight freckles, warmly beautiful -- think Helen Slater. {She stands center, a probing smile.} Lauren: You remember. I'm flattered. {Storm leans over Bobby's shoulder, slightly smiling, hands {on Bobby's shoulders, Wolverine beside.} Storm: You should feel more than flattered, Miss. You are the first to cause a smile from Robert in days. Wolverine: Don't be rude, kid. Lady got a name? {Bobby withdraws for the moment, somewhat stunned, eyes {opened wide, trying to focus.} Iceman: Uhh, yeah. Guys...this is Lauren Innis. I, uh... I guess she was my first...girlfriend. {She shakes Storm's hand.} Storm: Is this true, Ms. Innis? Lauren: If you count Bobby chasing me around the playground during recess when we were eight, then yeah, I was all his. Pleased to meet you. {Gambit looks her over.} Gambit: Funny, de boy never mention such a pretty young lady. {She runs her hand through her hair, eyes still trained on Bobby.} Lauren: Oh, it was a torrid affair, I assure you. Bobby always loved to pull my hair. {He smiles at her, tongue-tied and clumsy.} Iceman: H-How... I mean it's been-- {She interrupts, helping him out.} Lauren: Almost 10 years. My folks told me what happened to your father, so I took a train down from New Haven. I thought maybe you could use a-- {The priest leans in, interrupting, revealing a clear path to {the open grave.} Priest: We're ready for you now, Robert. 5. Iceman's Narrative: I stayed up all night trying to think of what to say here. What I wanted to say. What I should say. I finally gave up. {Panel begins to move circular of the gathering. People {seated and standing in a few rows around the open grave. {His father's coffin ready to be lowered in. Bobby's mother {sits weeping in the front row. Bobby's narrative captions {the scene while his spoken words are unheard. The panel {moves, never settling, occasionally glimpsing the others {in attendance including the X-Men, Bobby's mother and {Lauren, as he stands above his father's grave attempting {a eulogy. We join in the middle.} Iceman's Narrative: I figured...once I was standing here...it would hit me. I'd be able to think back on my father and the words would come out like poetry. Now that I'm here, though ...all I keep thinking is that my dad would be angry with me for not being prepared. {Panel move to Bobby, from vantage of inside the grave, slowly {to his face.} Iceman's Narrative: He always accused me of being a dreamer. Always said that dreaming doesn't take you anywhere in life. At some point I must have believed him. {Closer, the panel shows the engraving on the head stone: {"William Robert Drake Loving Husband and Father."} Iceman's Narrative: You get kind of tired after awhile of trying to get to know someone. Of fighting with someone...of never being able to agree on anything. You just give up after awhile. You just let your anger take over. {Panel shows the priest placing his hand on Bobby's shoulder, {his head held low as Bobby steps aside, giving way for the {priest to give his eulogy. Bobby's look is sorrowful, eyes teared.} Iceman's Narrative: It sometimes makes you say things that you regret. Sometimes that's all your left with. I wish... I wish I knew what to say right now. I wish I could think back and share some insight into my dad. Something that I will always remember about him. Something special only I knew. {Bobby walks beside his father's open grave and drops a rose {onto the coffin. As it falls:} Iceman: But in order to do that, I'd have to know something special about the man... And I didn't know my dad at all. 6. Narrative: The Senate floor of our nation's capital. {Panel opens on a wide aerial view looking down from above {on the Senate floor as a tall, slender, 40ish well-dressed {woman stands perfectly straight and composed behind one {of the many curved rows of desks, slight hand gestures as {she speaks before a partially assembled gathering of the {U.S. Senate.} Senator Archer: A single mutant... a single mutant effectively held this planet hostage while toying with the idea of how best to dispose of us. And that's the danger isn't it? We would all certainly agree with the President's basic premise that not all mutants are evil. And just as man-kind, should not be judged as a race by the actions of the one. {Pull back to show several Senators seated behind the raised {benches at the forefront of the floor, moderating the hearing. {Among them Senator Kelly who watches intently.} Senator Archer: But unlike a human who breaks away from the laws of society and threatens the individual... a mutant can threaten the entire planet. The entire human race. In less than two hours, almost 10,000 American lives were lost-- {She is interrupted by Senator Kelly.} Senator Kelly: Senator Archer, need I remind you almost all those who lost their lives were soldiers killed by renegade Sentinels and a great many of the dead were mutants themselves? {Senator Archer still stands with total poise and calm, {motioning slightly with her hands.} Senator Archer: Senator Kelly, I no more support religious fanatics than I do mutant fanatics. The heinous acts of Reverend Stryker's Purifiers will go down as one of the darkest moments in U.S. history... but that does not detract from the threat at hand... {Pull back to show the image viewed through a TV image {with "CSPAN" "Mutant Affairs Hearings" in the corner. } Senator Archer: The President seeks the immediate dismantling of the Sentinel program. In light of recent events... it would seem the American public would agree with him. {Pull back again to the aftermath of the funeral, as several {X-Men and human alike watch the TV in the living room of {Iceman's parent's home amid the funeral gathering.} Senator Archer: If I and my colleagues are willing to concede that point... then we would be leaving the human race vulnerable to the same threat that necessitated the Sentinels creation in the first place. Instead, I offer an alternative... {On her words, Bobby Drake's mother, Madeline, enters the {room as Beast shoots a very concerned look to Wolverine {in reaction to the Senator.} Madeline Drake: I wanted to thank you all again for coming. Bobby's luck to have friends like you at a time like this. {Rogue smiles. Madeline in response.} Rogue: We all feel tha same about him, Mrs. Drake. Ya'll did a fine job a' raisin' him. Madeline Drake: Thank you, Rogue. Do you know where he is? {Panel switches to Bobby looking around his parent's room, {staring at objects on the wall, particularly a small amateurish {painting of the ocean leaned on a book shelf. His mother {enters the room, as Bobby picks up the painting.} Madeline Drake: How are you, Bobby? {He turns around as she walks closer.} Iceman: Isn't it about time I asked you that, mom? {She tries to smile as she stand next to them, she reaches {down to pull the painting up so they can both look at it.} Madeline Drake: Honestly, Bobby, I think if I were to think about it for even an instant...I would fall apart. Iceman: I know the feeling. {She turns to the painting and remarks.} Madeline Drake: This was one of his favorites you know. Iceman: What do you mean? {She looks to him surprised.} Madeline Drake: Of his paintings, Bobby. When I first met your father, he fancied himself an artist. {Bobby smiles to her.} Iceman: Are you serious? {She takes him by the hand and guides him out of the room.} Madeline Drake: Come with me, Bobby. I want to show you something. {Panel transitions to Bobby's mother switching on a {light in the upstairs attic of their home as Bobby walks {beside. Madeline stares at the heavy layers of dust.} Iceman: God, I haven't been up here in years. Madeline Drake: I don't think anyone has. {Madeline heads to a corner and unearths some dusty old {paintings on their warped wooden canvases.} Madeline Drake: Here they are. Iceman: They're beautiful. What are they? {She displays several painting to him, each a variation of a {coastal portrait.} Madeline Drake: Your father always loved the ocean, Robert. He said it spoke to him. So peaceful and calm. {She turns to him with tears in her eyes.} Madeline Drake: He was such a different man once, Bobby. I wish so much you could have known him. He was...beautiful. {Bobby turns startled.} Madeline Drake: The army... it took something from him. Killed something inside. He was never the same. You never saw who he really was. He never showed you. All you ever saw was the anger. {She hands him a subtlety colored portrait of the coast, slight {blue sky, gulls flying overhead. Bobby begins crying.} Madeline Drake: I know you won't believe me when I say this. It might take you a long time to understand this. {She looks to him, hand on his cheek, tears running.} Madeline Drake: But he always loved you so much. He...tried, Bobby. In his own way, he tried. He was so proud of you...so very proud. 7. Iceman's Narrative: Everyone's gone now. Even my dad. {Panel pulls to Bobby. Sitting on a dune on the darkening grey {shoreline of Montauk, Long Island. His coat off, his sleeves {unbuttoned, he sits alone. [8]} Iceman's Narrative: I accused him of being a "bigot." I told him I felt "sorry" for him. Those were my last words to him. They were words of hatred. If he weren't gone, I'd still be hating him. Maybe I still do. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe not. {Before Bobby, he imagines himself a child walking beside his {father but not really with him, seen as a brief faded image along {the shoreline.} Iceman's Narrative: Either way, I won't be getting a chance to make peace with him. Ever. All I can hope for...is a chance to make peace with myself. {Bobby looks up, woken from his trance. Lauren stands there {in the sand, her shoes in her hands.} Lauren Innis: I was going to say "I thought you could use a friend." {Bobby stands, dusting the sand off his pants.} Iceman: Are you volunteering? {She holds her hand out to him, smiling.} Lauren Innis: Maybe. {Panel pulls upward toward a gathering of sea gulls flying in {place overhead, against the wind, smaller and smaller.} Lauren Innis: If you promise not to pull my hair. {Panel pulls outward to the blurred image of a bird of flight {among a flock seen as dots approaching against a raging {snow storm.} Narrative: The ancient steps of Tibet. {The image closes in, on an ancient looking temple alone, on {a desolate snow covered mountain-top. A pillar of smoke builds {from the temple against the blinding snow.} {Panel pulls as it seems to be from the perspective of a bird {flying and landing next to the temple. Then opens a heavy, {inscribed door.} {Panel again as the person enters the temple and follows into {The glow of flames into the center of a temple, where a huge {blue figure sits metatatively before a roaring fire. The figure, his {back turned to the approaching panel, speaks.} Man: I could sense it, master. I knew you'd return. {Closer to the seated man, his back still turned.} Man: I have made all the preparations. Just as you told me. I have waited patiently. Waiting for this day. {The figure turns around, his gigantic fist clenched, an evil {smile on his face. He is the same blue figure from the opening {Prologue.} Mayhem: Is it time to kill, yet? {Panel reverses as Apocalypse steps from the shadows, his {empty eyes aglow.} Apocalypse: Yes, my friend... It's time to make the world bleed. End Chapter One To Be Continued.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Next Chapter: Apocalypse Strikes!