Chapter 5

Lorna awoke from her catnap with a start. The dreams over the past few days had kept her in a perpetual state of exhaustion. After her class that morning, she had elected to nap until lunchtime. Unfortunately, the dreams kept her from enjoying even a brief respite.

Weary, she rose from her bed, taking the time to make it up, smoothing the corners of her down comforter. It was an odd habit of hers; she had to keep everything perfectly neat.

This was no end of amusement to Remy, who enjoyed picking the lock to her room just so he could go it and tilt one of the pictures on her walls, knowing it would drive her crazy. His little pranks didn't bother her so much. In fact, she actually found them funny. In response, she would usually corner him and, jokingly, tell him that if he picked the lock on her door one more time, she would magnetically shove his bostaff into a rather uncomfortable location.

"Chere, dere are much more useful ways t' use y' power," he had crooned to her over breakfast one morning. "F' example, dey could be quite entertaining when used wit' handcuffs and chains."

It was about that point that Scott spit out his milk and then, blushing furiously, excused himself to go to the bathroom amidst the women's wild laughter.

Despite his childish pranks, Lorna enjoyed Remy's company. Over the past few nights, when the dreams had kept her awake, the insomniac Cajun stayed up with her, teaching her card tricks. Remy, at the moment, wasn't there to entertain her with his tricks.

A wave of dizziness hit Lorna, knocking her to the ground. "What..." she said, holding her head as she attempted to stand. The wooziness briefly lifted, leaving Lorna looking around, dazed.

"You might have a headache for a moment," a woman's voice said. Lorna turned, for the first time noticing the woman standing in her doorframe. The woman's spiral print dress was almost as loud as her green and white streaked hair. She walked over to Lorna, taking a few strands of her green curls in her hand. "I like your hair."

"Who are you?" Lorna asked. The patterns on the woman's dress swirled, intensifying Lorna's disorientation.

"How rude of me," the other woman said, lifting her hand. Another wave of dizziness hit Lorna, who doubled over yet again. "My name is Vertigo."

-----

From the hill overlooking the mansion, a duo of mutants watched, and waited.

"This sucks," the mutant known as Arclight stated. Her gift, the ability to create shockwaves, was something she took great pride in. "We should be in there too."

"Hush, girl," Scalphunter said, his eyes never leaving the mansion. Scalphunter's power was a far more technological one than Arclight's. He had the ability to make weapons that could attacked the weaknesses of mutants. If confronting a telepath, for example, he might create a weapon that could interfere with their psi-waves. "You know the plan," he told her. "Vertigo and Scrambler go in and disable as many of the mutants as possible. Harpoon gets the files. Sabretooth is the muscle. We stay as back-up."

"It ain't fair," she said, clenching her fists angrily. "I'm every bit as powerful as them. I should be in there too."

"Sinister wants it this way," Scalphunter said, playing with some of his tools. "Just be glad he let you come along. Prism and Blockbuster had to stay behind."

"We haven't had any good battles for a while," the dark-haired woman complained. "Now we finally get to go do something and they let Sabretooth and them have all the fun."

"Look," Scalphunter said. "We wait another few minutes. If they're not out, then knock yourself - and whoever else you want - out."

-----

Henry McCoy, known around the mansion as Hank, was one of the most loved teachers among the student body. Though he could be long-winded and confusing at times, the jovial doctor had always been extremely generous and friendly to even the most rambunctious students. He was quickly becoming Bobby's favorite person in the mansion.

Bobby had spent the last few days eating lunch in Dr. McCoy's lab while the older man listened to Bobby's ramblings, occasionally interjecting with lines of poetry or his own, rather verbose, opinion.

"Salutations, Bobby," Hank said as the teen slid into the room. "We are developing quite the tradition here."

"Hey, it's easier to understand your lunchtime ramblings than Jubilee's," the boy replied casually. "And Kitty's a bit preoccupied."

"Ah, the lovely Miss Pryde," Hank said. "I take it she still harbors some infatuation for the Cajun charmer?"

"If you mean, does she have a thing for him, yeah. Along with the rest of the female population," Bobby replied sardonically. "I just don't get it. I could shuffle some cards, throw in a few 'cheres,' and speak with poor grammar, but you wouldn't see shrines start popping up in my honor."

"Perhaps you could ask your female compatriots?"

"And listen to them talk about how he is 'like, so dreamy'? I'll take a rain check on that one." Bobby paused. "Hank, do you think I was silly for pursuing Rogue?"

"I think it is the nature of youth to be impractical."

"It was crazy to chase after a girl I couldn't have," Bobby continued, ranting. "I mean, she was pretty and a great person, but I could never touch her. I mean, I had ideas about how to get around it, but I know how sensitive she is about getting close to others."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm here to pick up some files." An energy bolt, shaped like a spear, shot past Bobby, who quickly ducked.

Hank hoisted Bobby over his shoulder. Then, bounding across the room, he set the boy down as far away from the intruder as possible. "I do believe we have an unexpected guest," he said, reaching for his communication badge, which was lying on a lab table.

The other man shot a harpoon at Hank, who ducked in order to miss getting blasted. "I'll deal with your friends in a minute," he said, "if Sabretooth hasn't already taken that honor. Right now, you are going to hand over the records on every mutant in this school."

"And why, my friend, would I do that?" Hank said, analyzing possible methods of attack.

"Because if you don't," the man said, "I'm going to see to it that the kid over there dies a very painful death."

Bobby blasted a wave of cold air in the man's direction, attempting to freeze the other man in place. "I'm not a kid," he said, ice crystals shimming from the tips of his fingers. "And I'm not going to be as easy to kill as you expect."

"Good," the man said, prepping another harpoon. "This is going to be more fun than I thought."

-----

Alison Blaire was destined for fame. Everyone around her knew it. The perky blonde teen had dreamed of being a rock star ever since she was little. When she wasn't taking dance lessons or hanging out with her friends, she was in her room, dancing and singing along with the latest Lila Cheney album. She was a happy girl with a bright future ahead of her.

Three months ago, she disappeared.

Her family was devastated. There was no trace of her disappearance. She had taken none of her possessions. There was no sign of kidnap. She had gone to school the day of her disappearance just as she would have any other day. Her friends recalled that she looked extremely tired and worn out. Other than that, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. When school let out, she got in her car and wasn't seen again.

The disappearance rocked her small community. "The Dazzler," as her friends on the pep squad referred to her, was one of the friendliest and most well-liked girls around. Even the fact that she was a was respected and even seen as kind of cool by the people around her.

As the months passed, people gave up hope on ever seeing Alison alive. Most people in the community had begun to accept the inevitable; Alison Blaire was dead.

'Idiots,' the pretty blonde thought, fingering the cameo choker around her neck.

The mirror that the girl was standing in reflected the appearance of a very much alive Alison Blaire. The person looking at the image, however, was someone quite different.

Malice had no real name, no face to call her own. She was an amorphous presence that took residence in the bodies of mutant, controlling their thoughts, body, and power. Three months ago, she possessed Alison.

The young Alison had been quite easy to possess. In the days prior to her disappearance, Malice visited the girl at night in her dreams, tempting her with images of fame. In her dreams, Alison saw herself on stage, singing to a captivated audience. "This should be yours," Malice crooned to her. "You deserve it."

Alison enjoyed these seemingly pleasant dreams, often relating them to her family the next morning. "I just know it's gonna happen for me," she'd said.

As the nights went on, the dreams became more and more disturbing. Malice gave her images of slaughtering her family. "It's better this way," she told the girl. "They're holding you back. If you stay with them, you're going to live and die in this town. You'll be a nobody just like your mother."

She'd resisted the dreams at first, brushing them off as stress-related. She loved her parents. After all, they were the ones who'd always supported her music career. One night, however, Alison and her mother got in a disagreement on her plans after high school.

Alison wanted to take a year off to go to New York and pursue a career in music. Her parents, however, said she needed a college degree to fall back on. "Sweetie, it's hard to make it in music. We're not saying you can't do it, we're just saying you should explore other options."

Their attitude infuriated her. "You never believed in me, did you?" she asked them angrily. "All those times you joked about your rock-star-in-training daughter, you were just patronizing me, weren't you? I should have known you guys would never support me."

At the exact moment she gave into Malice's suggestions, Alison Blaire lost control of her body. She was now buried somewhere deep inside her psyche, smothered by Malice's dominant personality.

"Her powers are quite useful," Malice said, letting a burst of light jump from her fingertips. Somewhere deep down, Alison let loose a string of expletives, telling her captor that once she was free, she was going to let her have it. This outburst amused Malice. "Be quiet, child, you're only making this harder for yourself."

The possession, of course, would only be temporary. Useful as the girl's gifts were, Malice craved something more deadly, more powerful. She'd only needed her gift of light long enough to complete her current task.

The task she'd been given by the man known as Sinister was to map out the dark tunnels running under Salem Center, New York. There were rumors of a band of mutants running loose under the town, which was of some interest to Sinister, who had been interested in expanding his band of Marauders. Alison's light bursts had proved most helpful in guiding her way through the caverns.

In return for her services, Sinister had agreed to not only let Malice lead one of the most violent gangs of mutants ever, but to find her a host powerful enough to satisfy her craving for supremacy. The mutant he'd chosen for her went by the name Lorna Dane.

Sinister had followed Dane for some time, interested in her magnetic powers. When the green-haired woman relocated to the rumored base of the X-Men, the interest only increased. When he first brought the suggestion to Malice, she was quite intrigued. Lorna's powers, similar to Magneto's, could be extremely useful. Curious, she had begun sending mental probes into Lorna's dreams, interested in the girl.

What she found was a gentle and kind, if high-strung woman, who did not fully realize the awesome gift she had been given. Instead of spending her time cultivating her wonderful magnetic powers, Lorna was fixated on more trivial things, such as the odd color of her hair and her own obsession with her weight and body.

"I must enlighten her to more interesting subjects," Malice said to herself, brushing back a lock of Alison's hair. She could feel the younger girl paying rapt attention to her thoughts. Her curiosity would eventually have to be squelched. She would have to find a way to ensure that the girl didn't ruin their plans before they had the chance to fully unleash them.

-----

'This is better than HBO,' St. John thought, as he watched Rogue and Mystique getting embroiled in yet another argument. These spats were becoming a daily thing, with the two women continually attempting to assert their dominance over the other. It had become somewhat of a sport, and St. John was fairly sure that they enjoyed it far more than they let on.

This particular argument started when Rogue stated that she needed more clothing. Over the past few weeks, her body had rapidly developed, curves filling in the previously boy-cut body. She very rarely asked Mystique for anything, but with her clothes beginning to fit tighter and tighter, she had seen no other option.

"Ah need money for some new clothin'," Rogue stated.

"Get a job," Mystique said, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Ah can't! Ah'd have to give them a social security number and information and they'd find out ah'm a runaway. Ah don't even wanna think about how they'd react to findin' out ah'm a mutant."

"Then rob a bank. Show some initiative."

"Ah ain't ya and ah don't wanna be ya," Rogue said, glaring at her.

"And yet I can afford my own clothing," Mystique said, looking up pointedly.

"Fine. Ah'll ask Irene."

"And she'll just tell you that the finances are in my name. How unfortunate," Mystique said, a slight smirk at her lips.

"Ya act like ya just don't care."

"I don't."

"Professor Xavier would have bought them for me," Rogue said, trying to goad Mystique.

"Xavier has more money than he knows what to do with," Mystique replied, waving her hand. "He can afford to throw it away on property, fashion, and superhero teams. The rich always were a little eccentric. Besides, what's wrong with the clothing you have now?"

"It's too tight."

"When I was a teenager, I never would have complained about my guardians permitting me to wear tight clothing," Mystique said, noting the snug fit of the girl's jeans.

"When ya were a teenager, ya were probably incitin' riots," Rogue sarcastically replied.

"Everyone needs a hobby." Mystique paused as a thought came to her. "I'll tell you what. I am planning on heading out today. If you will accompany me on my errand, I will buy you a new wardrobe."

"What's the catch?" Rogue asked, suspiciously.

"No catch."

"Ya ain't gonna hurt nobody?"

"It's completely legal."

"Imagine that," Rogue said. She considered the proposition for a minute. "Fine. Ah'm game. But if this is a trick-"

"It's not."

"Whatever. Like ah was sayin', if this is a trick, I'll bruise up that pretty blue body of yours."

"Like I couldn't make a new one. But fine. Go get changed into some nicer clothing. We are visiting a friend of mine."

"War buddy of yours?"

"You could say that."

-----

By the time the sirens around the mansion alerted the X-Men to the presence of the Marauders, Sabretooth and his gang were already inside. 'So much for state-of-the-line security,' Scott thought, as Professor X ushered the frantic students into the lower levels, where they would be safe.

Jean telekinetically threw everything in sight at Sabretooth, who used his brute strength to knock them aside like toys. Storm had entered moments ago, only to be ambushed by Scrambler, who's powers were currently making Storm's go haywire.

Scott released a few energy blasts, knocking Sabretooth back briefly. His attack gave Jean just enough time to lift Scrambler with her mind, shoving him off Storm.

Sabretooth recovered from the blasts, taking a leap towards Jean, pinning her to the ground. "Jean!" Scott screamed, reaching for his visor. His fingers hesitated over the buttons, unwilling to risk hitting Jean.

"If there's one thing I don't like, furface, it's people hurting my friends." Scott turned to see Logan, claws unsheathed, standing in the doorframe. "Looks like I got here in time."

Sabretooth snarled and, forgetting Jean, took off in Logan's direction.

Scrambler took off for the exit, attracting the recovered Storm's attention. "Not so fast, interloper," she said, lifting off the ground to follow him. "We have some unfinished business."

"Jean, are you alright?" Scott said, taking the dazed Jean in his arms. She shook her head, gratefully holding on to him as he carried her out of the room.

"Beast... Lorna," Jean said. "We have to find them."

"I'll go get Beast. I'll call for Remy to go help Lorna," Scott said, setting Jean down on her feet. "You go help Storm, in case there are more of them."

-----

Lorna wasn't sure which way was up or down anymore. Vertigo was hitting her with everything she had, disorienting the fatigued Mistress of Magnetism. 'Focus,' she told herself, desperately looking around for something nice, sharp, and metal.

Another voice caught both of their attention.

"Y' mere ever teach y' about playing nice? Or am I gonna have t' spank y' m'self?" Remy's bostaff slammed into Vertigo's side, knocking her over.

Taking advantage of her sudden freedom, Lorna jumped to her feet. Catching sight of the metal lamp on her desk, she used her magnetism to shove it at the Marauder.

"Usually don't hit de femmes," Remy was saying to Vertigo, "but-- Dieu!" Remy jumped aside as the heavy lamp rocketed in their direction. The lamp collided with Vertigo's head, snapping it back with the sickening sound of a snap. The Marauder fell limp, blood pouring from her lifeless skull.

With disbelief, Remy took in the sight of Vertigo's corpse lying in the gentle Lorna's room. His green-haired companion sank to the ground as the situation sunk into her. She had killed someone.

"Polaris?" Remy was saying. His voice sounded distant and foreign to Lorna. She had never killed anyone before. True, Vertigo had attacked her in her own home. Lorna, however, had grown up under the pacifist Xavier's tutelage. 'Never use your powers to kill,' he had once told her. 'We are not Magneto and his kind.'

"Polaris?" Remy said to the unresponsive woman. Kneeling, his put his hands on her shoulders, trying to catch her eyes. "Polaris? Lorna?"

She looked up, meeting his red on black eyes. The faintest shimmer of tears rimmed her large green eyes. "Remy, I..."

"Shh..." he said, pulling her into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, comforting the shocked woman. "S'okay. Y' did not'ing wrong, chere."

She wanted to believe his words. She wanted to believe that it was in self-defense, and thus justifiable. Less than two feet away, however, was the bloody reminder of what this gift of hers could do. And somewhere, inside her mind, an unfamiliar voice laughed quietly. Welcome to your new world, Polaris.

-----

Bobby had never used his power in such force before. For the most part, he used his gift to pull silly pranks, like freezing Jubilee's sheets or icing the walkway right as Piotr Rasputin was about to step on it. At the moment, however, he was using every bit of energy he had to slam Harpoon with ice blasts. The fighting was beginning to take it's toll; Bobby's body temperature dropped to extreme levels. He could literally feel his body hardening and solidifying.

Beast was also throwing every bit of his force at the Marauder, who was trying to fight his way over to the computers. The furry blue doctor slammed into their opponent's chest, knocking a spear out of his hand.

A blast of red shot in the room, signaling Cyclops' arrival. "Bobby! Beast! Duck," Scott called, sending another blast into the chest of the Marauder. Realizing that he was outnumbered, Harpoon shot a spear at Cyclops. Then, while Cyclops was ducking, he took off towards the exit, shouting threats to the X-Men.

Cyclops started to go after him, but Beast grabbed him, stopping him. "Let him make haste," Beast said, patting his leader on the shoulders. "We must tend to our own for the time being. The students are more important."

"You're probably right," Scott conceded, "It's just-" Scott was cut off by a yelp from Bobby's direction. Turning, Beast and Scott watched as the body of their student hardened to solid ice.

"What's going on," Bobby said, shakily examining his new form. "Why is my body doing this? Make it stop!"

"It's the stress on your body," Beast said, stepping back into doctor mode. "Your mutation is adapting to the intensity of the power usage."

"In English, Hank," Cyclops said.

"Our young friend is mutating again."

-----

Arclight and Scalphunter barely had time to react before Storm and Jean were upon them. Jean was currently enjoying the thrills of telekinetically throwing their opponents while Storm introduced them to the power of the elements.

"What gives you the right to attack us in our own home?" Storm released a bolt of lightning towards Arclight. Scalphunter attempted to assemble a weapon, but Jean interfered by scattering the parts to the wind.

"Storm, come in!" Scott's voice called in over the communicator.

"I am currently engaged in some unfinished business," Storm said.

"Let them go," Scott commanded. "Your business is here."

Reluctantly, Storm complied, but not before sending gale force winds at the Marauders, knocking them off their feet. "I will let you leave for now. If you return here again, may the goddess protect you, for nothing else will."

-----

The team slowly filtered into the War Room, bandaging their wounds from the fight. "Have a seat," Scott commanded. "We have many things to discuss. The most important thing right now is how they got past our security systems. We may have beaten them, but we put the entire school at risk."

"How were they able to find us anyway?" Jean asked. "They don't seem to be a particularly intelligent or well-connected bunch."

"Perhaps they aren't," the Professor said thoughtfully. "They could be working for someone far more powerful. They must have attacked us for a reason. And Logan," the Professor said, with a nod in his direction. "It is good to see you again."

"I'm not here on a social visit, Chuck," Logan said, wiping his brow.

"I didn't think so," the Professor said. "We can discuss your reasons for returning in a moment. Where are Polaris and Gambit?"

"Right here, mon ami," Remy said, entering the room. He kept one arm around Lorna, supporting the woman. Lorna was still in a state of shock, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Are you alright, child?" Storm approached Lorna, placing her hands on her teammate's shoulders.

"She'll be fine," Remy said, using his power to charge the tip of a cigarette. Scott opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. He was in no mood to get into an argument with the rebellious man. "Y' should do somet'ing about de body in her room, t'ough."

"We have all suffered today," Storm said, rubbing Lorna's back gently. "How is Bobby?"

"In disbelief," Scott said. "Beast is trying to help him understand what is going on with his mutation."

"Under the circumstances, I think we should cancel classes for the rest of the day," Jean said. "It will give the students time to collect themselves and us the time to regroup and find out more about the people who attacked us."

"I agree, Jean," the Professor said. "We need to strengthen our defenses so we won't be caught so unaware next time. Now, Logan, I believe you have some information for us?"

"You're not going to like it," Logan warned. "I found out some information on Rogue."

"That's great!" Scott said. "So she and St. John are alright?"

"That's not all, pal," Logan said. "From what I heard, they ain't alone."

"Mystique." The Professor said, reading Logan's mind. "You believe she may have found them before we did."

"Whoa," Scott said. "Hold on. Rogue knows better than to go near Mystique."

"It's entirely possible she doesn't realize it is Mystique," Storm said. "We must not jump to conclusions."

"Storm is right," Jean said. "For all we know, Mystique may be holding them hostage."

"Whatever the circumstances," the Professor said, "It appears we may have our work cut out for us."

-----

Look at you, playing nice with the terrorist.

'Dangit, Carol, ah ain't in the mood for ya right now.' Rogue sat alongside Mystique, who was currently donning the guise of a sweet looking elderly lady.

Sell-out.

'One of these days, ah'm gonna get a telepath to shut that pie-hole of yours and ah ain't gonna feel sorry for ya at all!'

Snort. Like you do anyway, you bleeding sell-out.

"Mystique, ya know all about killin' people," Rogue said. "Got any methods of shutting up annoying figments of mah imagination?"

"I would make a joke about voices in your head," Mystique said dryly, "But I am not a comedian. Perhaps I will look into it if you continue to behave."

Fraternizing with the enemy, Rogue? Logan's head would spin. Sell-out.

"Sugah, you shut that Danvers woman up, and ah'll take over a country in your honor," Rogue said.

"I may hold you to that," Mystique said, the bus stopping in front of a massive building. "We are here."

"A prison," Rogue said, looking at the sign hanging over the door. "Ya have friends here, Mystique? Why am ah not surprised?"

Hey look, we agree on something!

"Silence, Rogue," Mystique said. "From now until we leave, I am Annabel and you are my granddaughter Sally Mae. We are visiting your great-uncle."

"Sally Mae? Why do ya just stamp a big old 'Hick' sign on my forehead. How come ah have to be Sally Mae?"

"Fine. Have it your way." The two women approached the guard's gate. Mystique handed an obviously fake ID to the guard at the gate. The guard appeared to recognize Mystique's guise, but gave a curious look to Rogue. "Annabel and - Gertrude - Lensherr. We're here to visit my brother-in-law Erik."

'Ah oughta kill ya, woman. Gertrude, for cryin' out loud,' Rogue thought. She felt Carol gasp. 'Oh what is it now,' she asked the woman angrily.

Find out for yourself, you traitor. Maybe if you would pay attention to what's being said instead of sulking over the darn alias Mystique gave you, you'd realize just who it is you two are here to see.

'What are ya talkin' about?' Rogue asked. Carol ignored her. 'If only ya'd be so damn quiet all the time.'

Rogue followed Mystique and the guards down a hallway, past the various prison blocks. They passed through a series of gates announcing their entrance into the maximum security section.

The room they came to had an odd appearance compared to the ones they passed. Instead of a metal composition, it appeared to be made of solid stone. The door grated against the floor as it opened. Looking inside, Rogue saw a large room composed entirely of plastic. The floor right below the opening door dropped several dozen feet. She was lucky she had waited instead of stepping right in.

A plastic walkway extended, spanning between the entrance door and a large plastic box in the center of the room.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her belly, Rogue followed Mystique towards the plastic cell. As she approached, she recognized the white haired man who stared at her from inside the cell. "Ah can't do this," Rogue said, shaking.

"Stop being a child," Mystique hissed, grabbing hold of Rogue's gloved hand. "We are already here. You are coming with me."

This gets better and better.

Rogue ignored Carol's taunts as they entered the room. The guard left Mystique and Rogue inside the chamber, locking the door behind him. "Five minutes," he said, walking back towards the entrance.

Mystique walked over and took the hand of Erik Lensherr - Magneto. "It is good to see you again, old friend," she said.

"And you, Raven," Magneto said, smiling at his one-time conspirator. "I see you have brought a guest with you this time. I must admit that I am surprised."

"Ah ain't here to see ya," Rogue said nastily. "Ah warned ya about trickin' me, Mystique."

"I hardly tricked you, girl," Mystique said. "You just never bothered to ask who we were visiting. Shabby, girl. I expected better of a student of Xavier."

"Come here, child," Magneto commanded. When Rogue didn't budge, he smiled. "Quite the stubborn one, I see. You must give Raven a hard time."

"I don't give her nothin' she don't deserve." That response got a laugh from both Mystique and Magneto. Rogue flushed angrily. "Ah ain't tryin' to be funny."

"Of course you aren't." Magneto pulled out a chair. "Have a seat, girl." Rogue paused, tempted to ignore him again. Shrugging, she took the seat. No harm in sitting down.

Oh for crying out...

"So." Rogue said. "How does it feel to be in prison where you belong?"

"How does it feel to realize I was right?" Magneto countered. "I take it you are no longer with Professor Xavier. You must have realized he was wrong. How does it feel?"

"He's not wrong," Rogue said. "Ah left because ah messed up. Not because of him."

"And where, pray tell, did you go wrong?" Magneto asked.

"Like Mystique hasn't already told ya," Rogue said. "Ah attacked someone and took their powers for mah own. Nearly killed 'em."

Magneto nodded. "As I understand, she deserved it."

Man, if I were in my own body with my own powers...

Rogue smirked. "Ya might be right on that point."

Why you little...

"Do you play chess, Rogue?" Magneto asked, gesturing to the set in front of him.

"Ah'm not much a fan of board games."

"Chess is more a battle than a game. It is a war of intellect. Charles and I often play a round or two when he comes to visit."

"The Professor comes to visit ya?" Rogue asked with some surprise.

"Charles and I have been friends for quite some time," Magneto said, lifting on of the bishops off the table. "I am convinced that he cheats from time to time. He is a telepath, of course."

"The Professor doesn't use his powers unless he needs to."

"I'm quite sure," Magneto said, setting the piece down on the table. "However, he does always manage to win our little battles."

Rogue was quiet for a moment. "Why me?" she asked. Magneto tilted his head curiously. "Why did ya try to kill me?"

Magneto stood and walked to one of the walls. "I'm an old man," he said. "I've seen what humanity does in the name of freedom and life. I've watched millions of people slain for being born differently. Change does not come quietly or through peaceful means. Liberation is a bloody struggle. I was sacrificing one life for the life of many. You will understand one day."

"Ah will never understand a murderer," Rogue said bitterly. Magneto did not respond. He kept his eyes fixed to the wall.

What a lunatic.

'He ain't crazy, he's just a pathetic old man,' Rogue thought.

"Go back to your idealistic world, child," Magneto said, turning to face her. "Wait until they come after you with their guns and their death camps. Then you tell me if I was wrong back there at the Statue of Liberty. Then, you come visit me, and tell me that what I believe is wrong. I assure you, I will be very much alive that day, although I cannot say the same for my mutant brothers."

Rogue didn't say anything as Magneto turned back around. The door to the cell slid open and the guard walked in. "Time to go," Mystique said. "Come along, Gertrude."

As Rogue walked to the door, Magneto turned around again to face her. "Come back again, child," he told her. "Perhaps one day I will teach you how to play chess. Who knows, I may need another worthy opponent one day."

-----

Sabretooth howled in pain as Sinister hit him with another blast. "I have warned you about failing me," he told the bestial man. "Not only did you fail in retrieving the files, but you allowed them to slay one of our own."

Sinister turned to his computers as the other Marauders looked at the wounded Sabretooth. "I will clone another Vertigo," he said. "It was lucky I had the foresight to collect DNA on all my Marauders. We will not have to go without her for long. As for the files, we will have to collect them another way. Malice?" Malice, in Alison's body, stepped forward. "We may have to speed things up," he told her. "I am entrusting you with the collection of the files. I should have done that from the beginning."

"With pleasure," she told him. "However, there is one problem. We will have to make sure that the Blaire girl doesn't get word to the X-Men of what is going on. Once I leave her body, there will be nothing to stop her."

"Leave that to me," Sinister said. "I'll see to it she won't ruin our plans."

"Don't kill her," Malice said quickly. "I may have use for her body again someday."

Sinister waved his hand. "Whatever you want, Malice. As for the rest of you..." He turned his attention to the rest of the Marauders. "I hoped you learned something from this encounter. If we are to succeed, we must work as a team, like the X-Men do. Every good team needs a leader. You can leave that bit up to me."

NEXT