X-Factor

*Continued From Avengers #11

Has there ever been a time in your life when you pretended you were sleeping? When you did all you could to keep your eyes slammed shut and regulate your breathing. In, out. In, out. Not too fast. Not too loud. Natural breathing artificially produced. The world had to believe you were sleeping, drifting somewhere where everyone else believed you couldn’t hear them.

Allison Blaire was having one of those moments. Consciousness had returned to her somewhere between the fifth and tenth levels of Mojo’s former broadcasting station. Allison felt herself bent over someone’s shoulder, her face slapping back and forth against what felt to be a man’s back. She kept her eyes shut, hoping to catch her captors off guard when the time was right. She focused on all of the sound around her. No one was speaking, although she could hear several sets of footsteps around her. She had to assume that it was Apocalypse’s forces. Her assumption was confirmed when she heard the background static of several television programs, all of them native to the Mojoverse. That was when Allison realized she was in the broadcasting station.

“Probably the first and only time I’ll wish that Mojo was the one in charge…” Allison mused.

“So when do we get to have fun?” Allison her a sadistic voice ask. “I want to remove Quicksilver’s appendages…one at a time. I think I’ll teleport his feet away first…then he’ll have to run on stumps. Hehe!” the voice cackled. Allison now knew for certain that she was taken hostage. Her heart sank as she imagined the gruesome fates that could have befallen her teammates. It was a disheartening process, and she quickly shifted her thoughts towards how she would escape from this predicament.

The group’s ascension though the broadcast station continued for several minutes before Allison finally felt them level out. They must have reached the control booth. She could feel her body being hoisted from the man’s back and being pinned against the wall, held in place by a pair of hands before manacles were attached to her wrists and ankles, securing her along the wall. She heard the four sharp clicking noises as the cuffs were secured, and then there was the echo of several footsteps moving away from her. Only after the clip clop sounds of their captors subsided did Allison open her eyes. She had to squint at first, readjusting to the sensation of light. It was several moments before Dazzler’s vision came into focus, and it was at the exact moment that she wished she had kept her eyes shut.

“Dear god…” she moaned, beginning to tear up almost instantaneously. There, in the middle of the circular chamber, was her husband. Longshot was suspended by a contraption that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, holding him up by his arms and down by his legs. The lucky hero looked beaten and battered, his face badly bruised and his naked upper torso littered with cuts. Dazzler began to whimper, watching her unconscious husband pleadingly, as if begging him to just look up at her and give her a sign. A wink. A glimmer of that amazing eye. Some sign that he was alive. But the only indication that her husband wasn’t dead was the painfully slow rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breath through a punctured lung.

Horrified and panicked, Dazzler looked left and right along the wall she was chained to. Hanging along with her was her X-Factor teammate, Speedball, as well as the Avengers Warbird and Quicksilver. Allison began to angle and maneuver her left hand so that she could use her powers to free Warbird when she heard a weakened voice speak from next to the unconscious Quicksilver.

“Your powers won’t work…” a young female voice said before squeaking in pain. Allison leaned out as far as her chains would allow her, trying to peer around Quicksilver. On the other side of the unconscious Avenger was a pink-skinned child, chained to the wall just like the rest of them. The small girl would have been adorable if it weren’t for the scratches and scars that adorned her body, her long magenta colored hair ragged and matted with blood. As it was she was a rather gruesome sight to behold.

“My god…” Allison gasped in horror.

“Power inhibitors…” Dazzler heard another voice croak, although this one she was familiar with.

“Longshot!” she cried in a mix of fear and joy, thankful that her husband was still alive, although not by much from the sound of his voice. Her husband had tilted his head slightly and was attempting to look at Allison, no easy task considering both his eyes were all but swollen shut. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to tell him, but before she could utter a word he spoke again.

“Shh…they’re coming…” he managed to wheeze before seeming to fall back into a state of unconsciousness. Allison followed suit, drooping her head and pretending to sleep, all the while beginning to think about how they would get out of this mess.

“You don’t honestly expect us to believe you, right?” Wanda Maximoff asked accusingly, pointing one hand at Spiral leeringly and keeping the other one clinched by her side. She stared down the six-armed woman, never letting her gaze waver, not even for a moment. The remaining members of X-Factor and the Avengers stood close together in the remnants of what appeared to be a bunker for foot soldiers. They stood with anxious postures, shifting wearily from foot to foot. They were exhausted from their battle with Apocalypse and his minions, an engagement in which they had been defeated thoroughly before being whisked away to the bunker by Spiral.

“I may not have met you personally, but I know of your history with Freedom Force. You’re not to be trusted,” Heather spat, picking up right where the Scarlet Witch had left off. Heather was still sore and aching from her battle with pint size versions of Cyclops and Havok, but she had to do her best to maintain composure. With Warbird a prisoner of Apocalypse, Heather was the only remaining leader among the random collection of heroes. X-Factor had lost Dazzler and Speedball, while the Avengers were missing Quicksilver and Warbird. This mission was going from bad to worse in record time, and Heather had been on some pretty botched assignments.

“Believe what you will, but the truth of the matter is that I’m the only hope you have for saving your friends. Unless any of you know how to get into Mojo’s broadcast station, that is?” Spiral asked, looking out to her accusers, who fell silent. “That’s what I thought,” she said smugly, crossing her top two arms over her chest.

“How do we know you’re not one of Apocalypse’s cronies?” Sunfire said, stepping forward from the crowd, the smallest wisps of smoke rising from the finger he pointed at Spiral. Shiro Yoshida was running low on patience.

“Not a big fan of thinking, are you?” Spiral taunted, canting her head to the right as if observing how unintelligent she believed the Japanese mutant to be. “If I were under Apocalypse’s employee,” she continued, now straightening herself, “why would I save you from a battle you were destined to lose? Make no mistake; while you may all be formidable warriors, Apocalypse’s forces would have won the day if it were not for my interference.”

“Then what took you so long to come and help us?” the deep voice of Darkhawk bellowed from the back of the group. Several murmurs echoed his sentiment.

“My employer, Mojo, did not sense your arrival until after your battle with Apocalypse’s forces had already begun. As soon as he recognized your presence he dispatched me to the battlefield.”

“So, Mojo survived?” Heather interrupted, looking anxiously about the bunker, as if she expected Apocalypse to arrive at any moment. There was only one door out of the cell they were in, and that was about three exits too few for Heather’s tastes.

“Of course,” Spiral said matter-of-factly. “Mojo wields legitimate power. One does not hold dominion over an entire dimension without being at least somewhat capable. As much as I hate to admit, many of you terrains, much like the resistance on this world, underestimate Mojo. If the rebels on this world truly desired to, they could overthrow Mojo, and secure my freedom. But those fools, much like their dim-witted lucky leader, are too simple minded to properly overthrow the current regime.”

“Talk about your tangents…” Mr. Immortal muttered. He would’ve said it louder. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Spiral. She could kill him for all he cared, no pun intended. He just didn’t want anything to do with their current topic of discussion. All he could do was relive the events on the battlefield. Craig remembered growing cold as the shadowy tendrils of the evil mutant known as Abyss pulled him closer and closer to the portal of darkness that was Abyss’s chest. Craig remembered hearing Carol Danvers yell before having Abyss release his hold. He dropped to the ground as Warbird flew past him, continuing her assault on Apocalypse’s henchman. And then it happened. Abyss’s chest exploded outwards in a parachute of darkness, enveloping Carol and dragging her in. Craig leapt up to try and save her, but it was too late. Abyss was gone, and he had taken Warbird with him. Warbird. Carol Danvers. Leader of the Avengers. Former Ms. Marvel. Former alcoholic. And the woman that Craig loved. Gone.

“Regardless,” Spiral continued, unaware of Craig’s aside, “I failed my objective.”

“And what was that?” Heather asked.

“To protect that rebel witch. To ensure that Allison Blaire did not fall into Apocalypse’s hands. She is the key to all of this.”

Allison had never really been the key to anything. All throughout her life, she had never been essential. She was always bright, always beautiful, always the center of attention. But that didn’t make her a pivotal component. A role player. She had her opportunities of course. But she never stuck around long enough. She could have been an amazing trial lawyer. That’s what Allison’s dad had wanted for her. But she decided against the law profession in order to become a singer. There was potential there as well, but it was a slow start, and before Dazzler the singer could make it big, Dazzler the mutant hero was born, helping the X-men defeat several members of the Hellfire Club. As hard as Allison tried to pursue her career as a star, her life as mutant was relentless, and before she knew it she was a member of the X-men. But even then, Allison was never critical. She was never the lynch pin of the team, or the focus of anything special.

So it had been a bit of a shock when Apocalypse revealed that he had been awaiting her return. Not Xavier’s. Not Sinister’s. Her. Simple Allison Blaire. Potential lawyer. Amazing singer. Mediocre X-man. What could he, the oldest mutant known to exist, want with her? She prayed to the forces above that she wouldn’t have to find out, but praying loses a bit of its significance when you’ve met the god of thunder.

“Ah, it appears everyone is sleeping…a shame. No screams of pain to soothe the anxiety of this essential experiment. Well, that won’t do…” Allison heard an intelligent voice ponder. She fought the urge to open her eyes and discover who it was, remembering that she was supposed to be asleep.

“Wakey wakey my bright eyed lab rat. Come on now. Do I have to get the cattle prod?” the voice inquired sinisterly.

“Oh no,” Allison thought to herself, horrified, “he’s referring to Longshot!”

“What do you want fleabag?” Allison heard her husband croak. Longshot had broken his act of sleeping to confront the voice that was terrorizing all of the mutants in chains around the room.

“You know what I want, you lucky mongrel you. I need you to disengage that blight you placed on my aging device when you and your romantic minded resistance invaded the High Lord’s citadel. You know, the one that causes all of Apocalypse’s pint-sized cronies to spontaneously combust when I attempt to accelerate their growth.”

“And if I don’t?” Longshot spat. Allison smiled slightly at the tone her husband took with their captor.

“Then we’ll see just how fast your siren-esque wife burns when she bursts into flames,” the voice said with a sickening laughter. Dazzler recognized that laughter as Henry McCoy’s. But it wasn’t her Beast. It was Apocalypse’s. “I’ve studied your abilities Longshot my boy. Quite extraordinary. Of course, I’ll be sure to thank Mojo for keeping such an extensive record. You really are the thorn in his side. He should be the one thanking us actually…if it weren’t for that fact that we’re about to thoroughly thrash his bulbous ass. Now, time to put this to the test…”

Dazzler heard the mechanical clicking noises of a heavy device moving from the center of the room, and simultaneously the wheels in her mind began spinning as well. The resistance had managed to sabotage Apocalypse’s equipment during the raid in which Longshot had been captured and Dazzler had returned to Earth. Apocalypse had been unable to utilize any of the technology in the citadel. The device that had created the X-babies, devices capable of opening portals on Earth, the age acceleration device. All of it was malfunctioning as a result of Longshot’s luck. Or, in Apocalypse’s case, bad luck. And Longshot refused to budge. Allison knew her husband didn’t have full conscious control of his powers; it depended on his mindset. And as long as Allison was safe, her husband would remain firm in his ways. But know Dazzler was here, being dangled in front of Longshot like a piece of meat…of bait…

“No!” Allison yelled, opening her eyes wide. She was staring down at the point of a laser cannon. That was what she had heard moving. The base of the device holding Longshot captive had rotated so that a long nozzle was aimed directly at her torso.

“Ah, so the lovely lady was playing possum…” the horrifying voice said, causing Dazzler to look past the device holding her husband. There, standing at the helm of an expansive control panel, was a fully matured Henry McCoy. The Beast that she knew was a kind, gentle man who loved the innocent pursuit science. The monster in front of her was nothing like that. This was a creature that perverted science, conducted cruel and twisted experiments on creatures whose only fault was to have a healthy pedigree. His inclinations were much darker than the Beast that Allison knew and loved.

“You bastard! Leave my husband alone!” Allison spat, feeling the anger well up within her. She would have burst in an explosion of light and lasers if it weren’t for the power dampeners in the manacles.

“Ah ah ah Ms. Blaire…or Mrs. Longshot. Or whatever moniker you go by. Sticks and stones would probably only irritate me, but your vulgar speech excites me,” McCoy said with a throaty chuckle before beginning to plug away at the console in front of him.

“Allison…” Longshot croaked, turning his head so that Dazzler was in his peripheral vision. “I’m sorry…” he muttered before his head drooped down to his chest. The grin on Dark Beast’s face grew slightly wider as his keen sense of hearing picked up on Longshot’s words. McCoy was now willing to bet that the bad luck that had been afflicting his experiments would no longer be a factor. After pressing a few keys the device moved, changing its target from Dazzler to the small pink skinned girl further down along the wall.

“Well well, let’s hope this test trial runs smoothly Blinky-poo, or else I’m going to be lacking for pint-sized X-men to test my gadget on. Of course, your predicament would be slightly more excruciating, seeing as how you would be bursting into flames. Would you burn pink, my dear?” Hank said before going back to work on his console. The chamber fell silent save for his keystrokes.

Several of the other captives began to emerge from unconsciousness. Speedball was the first to awake, but before he could start running his mouth he passed out again, probably from thinking too quickly. Warbird was the next to open her eyes, but she remained silent, careful to observe everything before letting their captors know she was awake. Quicksilver remained unconscious though.

A soft hum began to reverberate throughout the chamber as the device collected energy. The pink child whimpered slightly but held her tongue just as well as she did her defiant look, glaring hatefully at the Dark Beast. McCoy slid a set of laboratory goggles down over his eyes before inputting the final activation and stepping back from the device, crossing his arms over his chest and marveling at his work.

“Come on you damn machine…I’d like to retain my fur…” Dazzler thought she heard him say, but she was quickly distracted as the device began to glow white-hot. Observers miles away from Mojo’s broadcasting station would be able to see the sky flash with an intense light from the top of the structure, although to hear the young woman’s screams of pains they would have needed to be much closer. The flashes of light persisted for several seconds before the machine shut itself off and the cries died down in a haze of unconsciousness.

When the spots finally dissipated from Allison’s sight (and it took several minute for that to happen) everything seemed to be the same as it had been before the third rate light show. Then she looked down to where the young child had been, and her stomach did what seemed to be its umpteenth flip since she had returned to Mojoverse. Where the child had once been, there was now a full-grown woman. And where there had once been a look of resignation on the Dark Beast’s face, there was now a wicked grin.

Chris had been standing just outside of the abandoned bunker, looking out over the mounds of waste towards the figure in the distance. While Spiral was discussing strategy with the other veterans Crush had wandered outside, seemingly in deep thought. Darkhawk didn’t even hesitate to follow, his hazel eyes quivering ever so slightly with concern for the youngest among them. Not only had she been forced to battle with evil doppelgangers of herself and her brother, but Speedball had been taken away by the pint-sized horrors.

“I should talk to her…” Chris muttered to himself, having reverted back to his human form. He needed to conserve his energy and allow his armored form to heal from his own encounter with the evil Guthries.

“Then why don’t you?” the young hero heard a voice speak up from behind him. Chris turned to look at who had followed him outside when he had followed Elizabeth, who was following her own thoughts…

“Oh…hi Mr. Immortal,” he spoke softly to the crisply attired Avenger.

“Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Craig ribbed, grinning at the younger vigilante. Immortal stepped up alongside Darkhawk, peering out at Crush for a moment before turning back to Chris. “You really should go talk to her,” he suggested.

Chris maintained his silence for a moment, wondering how any of this was Craig’s business. But now wasn’t really the time to clam up, and he definitely didn’t want to sound like a brat. Luckily Craig began speaking before Chris managed to get in a word.

“I know I would have wanted someone to come and talk to me when I was first getting started with this business. It got kind of lonely, you know?” Craig asked, turning to face Darkhawk completely now. Chris knew exactly what he meant. Despite his frequent interactions with the Avengers and New Warriors, Chris spent the better part of earlier Darkhawk days as a loner. There was too much he didn’t know about himself, about his armor. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel lonely when facing the trials of a superhero.

“You’re right…” Chris said, taking several steps forward before turning back. “Thank you,” he added to Craig before turning back to Crush. He began to run to her, sprinting through the wasteland. But before he could reach her, a bright flash of light emanated from the top of Mojo’s broadcast tower directly in front of them. All three heroes outside of the bunker shielded their eyes. Chris was slow to lift his open them again, and when he did, he found Crush looking down at him from the hill she had been perched on. Chris could almost make out a smile on her face before the silence was broken by her voice.

“Ah guess we should be gettin back…” she said softly, walking down to Chris and back towards the bunker. Chris remained frozen for a moment, trying to decipher everything that had just happened. The flash of light…her smile… certainly unrelated, but both equally confusing in the mind of the young man.

“It’s begun…” Spiral mused, stepping away from the entrance to the bunker, looking back to the heroes remaining inside. She began to meticulously inspect her blades, as if expecting to go into battle at a moment’s notice.

“What has?” Heather asked, stepping forth from a private conference she was having with the Scarlet Witch.

“Apocalypse has managed to repair the equipment that Longshot and the rebels damaged in their last raid. Within an hour or two the infidel will have a fully-grown army of mutants from his own dimension. This world will fall, and in time, so shall yours,” Spiral said.

“Then that is an hour we cannot afford him,” Shiro said defiantly, clenching his fist and generating a soft aura of flames. “We must proceed with our plan immediately. No Apocalypse from any world would wait for nightfall to begin his conquest, and we can’t wait until the night to stop him.”

“He’s right,” Wanda confirmed, stepping up beside Heather. She looked from side to side at the remaining Avengers. They all appeared ready to move forward, but she knew that deep down they were still depleted and exhausted from their previous battle. They all knew the consequences though. If they failed to stop Apocalypse then their own world would be overrun and laid to waste just as the Mojoverse had been. The Silver Surfer would hold the gate for a time, but even he couldn’t hold back the tide if Apocalypse was allowed an unlimited supply of troops. They were fighting for the fate of not only this world, but their own.

“Let’s go then,” Spiral sighed, realizing that the future of her own life hinged the ability of the heroes around her. She stepped into the center of the bunker, allowing the members of X-Factor and the Avengers to gather around her as she begun to dance. Her body twirled and spun in a rhythmic function until a bright light began to encompass the group. One moment they were there, the next moment they weren’t, teleported to what could very well be their final battlefield…

To Be Concluded In Avengers #12

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