X-men: Final Days

A

Azazel

Guest
Original poster
For several years what's left of da Xmen been fighting against a world that turned as Magneto feared. Seems like one day the govs had enough and with the public outcry of "normal" citizens we were hunted down. I remember the old days when we fought for human and mutant rights. Now I just fight to survive. Every now and then a raid would be planned but we were just slowing em down. "Truth be told there ain't no hope in sight." I said to no one.

I've been sitting here in the old mansion tossing cards in a trash can trying to plan the next move. But the world she be laughing at me. Can't use powers on a public street and all the hideouts are monitored this one included for mutant power spikes. Place used to be filled with kids. Now ill come across a chared skeleton now and then. Humanity always did until in hate and fear, but never peace or its own betterment.

way I figure it something's gotta change or none of us see a future. I light a cig and breath deep standing up peering out a window. Grabbing my black trench I head down the stairs. It's so quiet now. "But your never alone mon ami." I hear a voice say cept it's in my head Death, apocalypse brainwash never fully went away and when I loose it i change into that. I have to control it gotta plan a raid tonight see who else might be up to it
 
Ian climbed down into the basement of his apartment building, not bothering to turn on the lights. Funny, when you spend your days in a pitch-black box, using contortion tricks to avoid razor sharp blades, you stop being afraid of the dark. Well, "days" might not be the right word; Ian went to school in the day. It was only at night that "The Magnificent Hatter" took the stage. Rabbit out of a hat, levitation, the disappearing man, he knew all the tricks, and had even come up with a few himself.

So that was his routine: go to class, eat dinner, start prepping for whatever show he had booked that night, do the show, get paid, go to sleep. The routine was good, it helped him focus, helped him be human. But, every once in a while, he had a night like this. No show, no homework, just him, alone in a dark place, practicing a whole different kind of magic.

Back when he was a kid, he used to go to the old construction yard. Then it got bought by some industrial supplies company. Oh well, it wasn't safe to practice outside anymore, anyway. Reaching into the backpack he had brought with him, Ian pulled out his notebook and started looking over his previous experiments. Being able to read without light could be so convenient sometimes.
 
Not far from where Gambit stood amidst the ruins of the old Institute, Peter Rasputin was in his armored form, picking his way through the rubble that was all that was left of the mansion that had been the X-Men's former home and base. It was hard to imagine anyone living here seeing it the way it was now. To think, children, mutants like him, had once come to this place to learn how to use their abilities. To some it had been a safe haven in a world that feared and misunderstood them. The world had only gotten worse, however, and now there was no place left where mutants could feel safe. Now, it was either fight or die, and sometimes there was little choice between one or the other.

Still, there was some hope left for mutantkind. The X-Men were still around, for one thing, and they hadn't stopped fighting for the rights of mutants to live in peace despite the insurmountable odds stacked against them. As far as Peter was concerned, the United Offensive would have to kill every last one of them before they would get away free with rounding up and exterminating mutants like cattle. They may have gotten his father, but he would die before he let them take away any more of his friends or adoptive family. Feeling slightly angered just from the thought, he turned to a nearby section of collapsed wall and hurled his fist into it with all his might. The weakened stonework practically disintegrated from the punch, scattering pieces of debris everywhere and throwing up a cloud of heavy dust.

Turning away, he brushed off his arm and walked over to the top of the stairs that Gambit had descended. Peering down into the shadowy remnants of what used to be the mansion's foundations and secret underground levels, Peter called down to his field leader. "So, about this raid we're gonna be going on later. Anything I need to know about the situation going in?"
 
I nod my head. " almost every mutant on da planet is kept in a database with multiple servers we can't shut down the system but we can stall it giving many mutants a chance to relocate or remove collars it's not an answer but it buys time. The main problem is they got our powers and their limitations down. So I can't just blow through the walks and I doubt you could punch through em. You found anyone else who might be lending a hand?"
 
Peter stood there for a moment, considering the details of their mission he had just been informed about. So, they were going after the database. It seemed pretty ambitious. After all, the government would have to put a lot of protection around the heart of their mutant internment system. It was the lynchpin of their whole operation, the key to keeping mutants around the world oppressed and imprisoned. It wouldn't be easy, but the X-Men stood to gain a serious advantage if they would be able to briefly shut it down. It would certainly get the UO's attention and remind them the X-Men were still a threat to their regime, but there was also a lot that could very easily go wrong.

They would need someone who could get them in and out of the facility without running the risk of getting caught, but teleporters were rare these days and Nightcrawler had been dead for years. Likewise, their infiltration and special ops capabilities were severely limited now that most of the members of X-Force were dead.

He couldn't think of a single current member on the team whose abilities could help in this situation. They had been having a hard time getting new recruits lately as well, since most mutants in the surrounding areas were either locked up or too afraid of exposing themselves to lend a hand to the cause. As he thought, Peter's steely brow furrowed in concentration, the inner workings of his mind struggling to come up with a solution.

Then, suddenly, his eyes seemed to light up with an idea. He cautiously began taking the stairs down, hoping his weight wouldn't cause them to collapse under him. "I think I might have a good lead on someone who can help. The Stepford Cuckoos picked up a new signal on Cerebra the other day. Said it was popping up in different places all over the city, but they couldn't tell if it was from a mutant or not. Whoever it is must be able to get around pretty easily without being detected. Maybe they could get us in."