Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Marvel Comics. They are being used only for entertainment and no money is being made.  The other characters, and the story belong to me, Magik, the author.

    The year was 2000 and seventeen year old Melissa Burgross stood on the front steps of her family's house in the small, quiet town they lived in. Her sharp, keen, dark green eyes focused, staring into the blackness in front of her while her mind powers danced a tango with the shadow figures that were coming.

    Her mother walked outside and shook her head. "What's with you, dear? This is the second time tonight I come out here and see you staring away at nothing," she commented as she walked over to stand next to her daughter.

    Melissa tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "They're coming, Momma. They're coming. They want me to make the world shine like I made our town shine and I don't think I have enough power to do it," she admitted as a tear slipped down her cheek. It was the first time she had cried in years.

    Mrs. Burgross walked over to her and put her arm around the girl's waist. "Oh, Melissa. Such talk, child. Is it any wonder that your English teacher loves your little mutant stories? So inventive they say. Maybe you'll be a writer, dearheart. Now, come in and have your dinner."

    "In a minute, Momma," Melissa said and Mrs. Burgross smiled and went inside. She thought she heard her daughter say, "But my stories are true," but shook it off as hearing things.

    Past the town's limit signs but gaining on them fast was a small motorbike. On it sat a very unhappy young mutant, Hector Romeriz, and his caretaker of sorts, the X-Man, Wolverine.

    "I could fly there faster," the young man complained.

    "Yeah, but then she'd know we were comin' fer sure. This way we at least have a small percentage of surprise," Wolverine growled. "Now, shut yer trap, Hec. I'm gettin' tired of the noise."

    "Oh, this plan makes perfect sense. Try to sneak up on the most powerful psion in the world. Really good. Tell me, Wolverine, truthfully now, was it yours?" Hector asked with a coy smile.

    "I'm warnin' yah kid..."

    Just then a psychic cloud covered their thoughts and an astral image of Psylocke stood before the two. "Okay guys, this is the last stretch. She's already spotted you but I don't think she knows exactly what we want."

    "This job would be a lot easier if I didn't have to drag the novice along with me, Betts."

    "I'm sorry, Wolverine. I couldn't leave Warren in the state he's in and my powers would probably be pretty useless there," she apologized.

    "S'okay. I understand. You stay there and take care o' that husband o' yours. Oh yeah, you tell Ororo that everything's fine. You know how she worries," Wolverine replied a smile crossing his lips.

    Hector whistled. "I've never seen him smile before. When do I get to meet this Ororo?"

    Psylocke laughed. "I see you picked up the boy."

    "Yeah, he's a pain but I'll survive. How's everythin' in the home front?"

    "Bad. Getting worse. We nearly lost Iceman. If not for Drew and her healing powers..."

    "Yeah, well, Drew's an angel for the cause if ever there was one. Now, you jus' keep yourself and Warren safe. That's all I want you to think about now, darlin'. You'd better check out, now."

    "Okay. Bye Wolverine. Adios Hector."

    "Bye Mrs. Worthington," Hector said as the image faded away. "Now what?"

    "Now we find the girl that can save our hides," Wolverine growled and hit the gas.

    Hector ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair. This was a hard time for him. His mutant ability had been with him for a while but dormant because of his rejection of it. It was nice to have to the power to alter the reality of people's perceptions and thoughts to meet his needs. It wasn't really telepathy or anything as mind based as that it was more of a tactical power. He had to touch someone for it to work. The flying was just a bonus. With a sigh he brushed sand off his goggles and gazed straight ahead.

    Elizabeth Worthington closed her eyes and clasped her hands together as though she was praying. She had never prayed much, but now as the war between humans and mutants was escalating and her own husband had been injured in battle, she turned to prayer and to the god she had never thought of before.

    The sixteen-year-old Drew came over and stood behind her, waiting until Elizabeth finished praying. The girl was thin and delicate, like a fairy. Her hair was a mass of blond curls and her large eyes were blue. As the only mutant alive with healing powers she was a great asset and had been dubbed as "Guardian Angel."

    "Yes, Drew?" Betsy asked.

    "He calls for you," Drew told her and then turned away to help the other injured.

    "Thank you." Betsy brushed her dark purple into a ponytail and then walked over to the cot where her husband, Warren, lay.

    He opened his blue eyes and looked up at his wife. "H'lo, Betts," he said as he stroked her cheek with his hand.

    "How are you doing, Warren?"

    "I'm fine. It hurts but Drew's a miracle. Cecilia said I won't lose my wings," he mentioned, a smile on his face.

    "That's wonderful," Betsy said. He noticed that a few tears hung in her purple eyes.

    "What's wrong?" he asked and squeezed her hand.

    "I'm just worried about Brian and Meggan. I know they're with Roma but it feels wrong! I don't know where they are. I can't sense Brian's presence. He's just not there anymore..." she cried as tears started to run down her cheeks.

    Warren clutched her hand even harder willing his spirit to touch hers and calm her. He knew how hard this must be for her. Her twin brother had been zapped to Roma's citadel and that had snapped her telepathic link with him. Now he was a blank space in her mind. The pain she was felling would be like if he had lost his wings again.

    "Betsy, how is Logan? Is the mission going well?" Storm asked as she flew into the shelter.

    Betsy squeezed Warren's hand, wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to the X-Men's leader. "Logan's fine. He got Hector and they're sneaking into Melissa's town right now."

    "Good. Keep checking in on them and give me a report if anything changes," Storm commanded and then flew back into the fray.

    "I still don't understand why you didn't go with Brian. You said Roma offered to take us with her," Warren stated as he ran a hand through his blond hair.

    "I knew you wouldn't go," she replied as she sat down next to him. "I couldn't leave without you. Also it just wouldn't be right to leave my friends here without my help. I just wish I could feel Brian's presence so he could tell me that Jamie's okay."

    "I'm sure she's fine. Probably just misses her mom and dad," Warren declared with one of his famous smiles.

    "I hope she's okay. She's what keeps me going day after day. She's what keeps me fighting. I fight to give her a chance at a better life," Betsy admitted tears running down her face again.

    Warren reached up to brush his wife's tears away. "I know. I go on for Jamie too. I don't want her stuck doing this all her life. I want her world to be better." Then he leaned up and kissed her.

    After they parted, Elizabeth closed her eyes, feeling warm tears run down her cheek. "To think that all our fighting is useless, just a diversion to keep the humans and sentinels busy until Wolverine and Hector bring Melissa here."

    "At least we fight the good fight," he reasoned.

    "When did you become so optimistic?"

    "When I finally saw the love of my life and married her and then had a child. That would make any man optimistic if he's lived through the hell I have."

    Betsy laughed and hugged him. Then she kissed his forehead and walked over to where the others were planning their next move. Warren began to pray for his wife, his friends, the cause, but mostly he prayed that Melissa would get there soon.

    Lawrence Welch or Amp, as he was more commonly known, stared down at the chaos around him and then bowed his head to pay respect to the day's dead. His long reddish blond hair blew in the wind and his pale skin was sunburned.

    In the shadows stood the small, lean figure of a woman. Her hair was dark green and her eyes were lavender. Two pale pink lips stood out on the jet black skin. Veil shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously.

    Lawrence opened his pale green eyes and smiled. "Ah know ye're there, luv."

    "You think you know everything," Veil muttered. She ran a hand though her hair and ended up cutting her cheek with her razor sharp nails.

    "Ye'd better `ave Drew look at that." Lawrence walked over to where Veil stood, the red blood flowing down her cheek. "The cut isn't goin' ta heal itself."

    Veil groaned. She hated it when her on and off again boyfriend started this whole over protective crap. "I'm fine."

    Lawrence shrugged and walked away with a smile on his face. She'd come around. She always did. No one could blame Christina for all she did because no one really knew.

    "Where are you going? Lawrence? Lawrence!" she called after him.

    "Come and get me, luv," he taunted, turning to face her.

    The girl clung to the shadows, fear glazing her eyes as she looked at the suns light. Her power of veiling everything in shadow, blocking out all light had a drawback; light could destroy her. "I can't. You know I can't."

    "Christina," he started.

    With that the girl lunged forward taking the heavy shadow area with her. Her slender hand wrapped around his throat, the sharp nails almost drawing blood. "Don't call me that! Christina James died a long time ago. It's Veil now." And then she released her grip and stepped back. The shadows hung around her body, keeping her safe from the light.

    Lawrence saw the pain in her eyes and something ached inside him. "Sorry, luv. But ah got ye out here. Ye're control over yer power is gettin' stronger."

    Veil shook her head. "No. It's because you're amplifying my power. The shadows are here because you made me strong enough to keep them with me." With a downcast look she glided over to another point of natural shadow.

    "Aw, Veil, ye know if ye work at it ye'll eventually `ave totally control," Lawrence called over to her.

    "It's good that you have dreams, Lawrence. It's good that you hope because not many people do. By the way, there is no God. I don't know who you're praying to because there's no one up there listening."

    "And `ow do ye know that, lass?" he questioned angrily as his fingers wrapped around the silver cross at his neck.

    "Because if there was a god, why would he allow this." Then Veil disappeared into the shadows no doubt using her power to shift to another shadowy patch.

    Lawrence looked up at the sky, crossed himself and then walked over to the group of mutants planning in the shelter.

    They turned and said brief hellos when they saw him but then went back to planning.

    The blond haired Drew knelt over the fallen body of Forge her power scanning for any sign of life worth saving. With a sigh she covered his body with a sheet and walked away.

    As she walked past him, Lawrence sat a hand on her shoulder. "Times can't be any worse than they are now, luv," he told her.

    The blue eyes looked at him, this mutant with amplifying powers, this eighteen-year old boy and then she said, "Everything can get worse," and walked away.

    Lawrence was left standing there struck by the realization that she was right and from the shadows Veil watched as her friend's world crashed down around his ears and his eyes filled with tears.

    Brian Braddock paced around Roma's citadel. The citadel was a bright and wonderful place but he could sense that something was wrong. Meggan was perched on a windowsill, her little niece in her arms, as she watched her husband pace. With a sigh she put Jamie down in her crib and walked over to Brian.

    "Darling, what's wrong?" she inquired as she laid one of her long fingered hands on his shoulder.

    "I don't know, Meggan. Something's wrong. Why hasn't Betsy checked in with me telepathically? It's not like her to just leave me hanging like this," he ranted and ran a thick hand through his tangled blond hair.

    There was a flash of eerie purple light and then Roma walked into the room. She paused her ascent to look in at the child. The child, Jamie Worthington, looked up at her with a pair of sky blue eyes that were slightly slanted. Jamie's hair was dark purple like her mother's and her skin was a mix of Caucasian and Asian, it had only a hint of yellow undertones. Roma touched the child's cheek and then continued walking.

    "Greetings Roma," Meggan said and curtsied.

    Roma found herself rolling her eyes at the naive girl. Meggan was, at times, way too into how to address people correctly. Of course the girl's blood was strongly tainted with that of the fairy folk and her old world customs could not be helped.

    "Rise, Meggan, there is no call for such formalities with me. We are all friends here," Roma proclaimed and helped Meggan to rise.

    Brian just stood a ways off, his blue eyes fixed on something only he could see and his mind miles away.

    "What are you thinking about Brian Braddock?" Roma inquired. He turned and looked at her. Roma was a strange one. She was the daughter of Merlin and showed his ambition and quest for power. However there was something else there, an ancient power and understanding of the world that was quite like Meggan's. Roma's ears were slightly pointed, her face sharp, her skin pale as cream, her hair black as night, and her body as thin as a willow. There was no doubt in his mind that her mother, whom Roma had never known, was a fairy.

    "Brian?" Meggan urged.

    "Hmmm, what? Sorry, Roma, I was lost in thought. What did you say?"

    The guardian of the Multiverse shook her head at him. Brian was a stubborn man with a will of iron and the power to get what he wanted. "I asked what you were thinking about, silly man."

    Once again he stared off into nothingness. "Oh, I was just thinking about how we had gotten here that's all."

    It seemed like such a long time since he had traveled here but it had only been three months ago. Betsy and Warren had come over to England with baby Jamie to visit them. The war had not yet reached Europe and Brian and Meggan had no idea about what was going on in the U.S.

    They had just sat down to tea when Roma teleported in. She had been breathless and shaken as she told them of the state of the Multiverse, which was falling apart as war raged all over. In a voice too strong and too determined for the words, she had pleaded with them to come with her.

    Brian, always one for duty, accepted her offer to guard the citadel, but Betsy couldn't go. He had known this from the moment Roma offered. Betsy was too dedicated to Warren and Warren wouldn't leave the X-Men.

    He remembered hearing her say in a hushed voice, "I can't go, Roma."

    Roma had nodded and replied, "I thought as much."

    "Brian, take Jamie with you. This is no place for her," Betsy had commanded and pushed the child into his arms. Then she had kissed his cheek and stepped back into Warrens arms.

    Roma had smiled sadly and whispered a few Gaelic words as the world swirled around him. The next thing he knew, he and Meggan were standing in the citadel just as they were now.

    As his eyes refocused on the world, Brian muttered, "I hope she's okay," under his breath.

    Melissa's dark green eyes stared out at the dark night, peering into a void of nothingness. On the psychic plane she kept a close eyes on the approaching life forms. They were coming for her. A man and a boy who were riding on a motorbike. Their minds were hushed and quiet with psychic shields that had been placed there by a telepath stronger then Melissa.

    On the motorbike, Hector bit his lip in anxiety. "Hey Wolverine, does this seem like a set-up to you? I mean, this girl we're after has quite a powerful mind, doesn't she?"

    Wolvy only nodded and continued driving down the dark streets of the city. Odd thing was there wasn't one light on in any of the houses. The place was as dark and silent as a crypt.

    "Okay, so she's real powerful. Why haven't we heard from her yet? Why hasn't she mind-blasted us and be done with it?" the young man inquired.

    The older man laughed. "You didn't read the reports I gave ya, kid. This girl broke her entire town out o' bigotry and hate. We're bringin' her back wit' us so she can stop this war. She's not gonna fight us, kid, and we never expected her to. We only havta convince her to come back wit' us."

    "Is that all?" Hector questioned, a glint of surprise in his brown eyes. "Well, I can use my power to convince her."

    Wolvy snorted. "Why do ya think I brought ya along, boy?"

    Melissa listened to the distant hum of thoughts as the two drew closer. It didn't anger her that she couldn't hear what they were saying or thinking. She just liked being able to "feel" their presence.

    A year ago a man had walked into her town that she couldn't "feel." He had had long white hair and cold blue eyes. For some reason his mind was closed to her and her sight. This was a man whose world she couldn't see. This was a man she had banished from her town because he scared her. There was only one thought she could pick up from him and that had been death. Not her death and not his, but the worlds.

    Shivering slightly from the surfacing of the repressed memory, she turned her sight back to her little town. She could "feel" everyone in the town and their sleeping thoughts were tight around her like a blanket. They were all sleeping because she had told them too. She didn't want any of them to be hurt by the coming conflict.

    Headlights played off something in the dark and there was the distant hum of a motor. Melissa reached out to the two darkened minds and said, ~I wish you'd hurry up. I can't stay out here all night.~

    There was a harsh laugh and then a mental voice spoke to her. ~Sorry, darlin', but this thing can only go so fast.~

    ~One of you can fly,~ she commented.

    The shock caused Hector to drop the shields Psylocke had helped him establish. His mind was out in the open, his secrets unlocked. Panic radiating off of him like heat waves in August.

    Melissa winced. ~Tune down your emotions. I can't take much more of it.~

    ~Sorry,~ Hector whispered as he concentrated on pulling the shields back up.

    Wolvy started to slow the motorbike down and then he stopped in front of a little house. A girl sat on the porch and she was the only living thing they had seen in the whole town.

    Hector quickly climbed off the bike and stared at the girl. She sat there, hands folded in front of her, her brown hair blowing in the wind, and her sharp green eyes staring right at him. It was unnerving but at the same time he felt alive again.

    Wolverine stepped forward, pulling the goggles off his face and dropping them to the ground. With a low growl, he ran a hand through his black hair and looked at the girl. "You're Melissa Burgross, ain't ya?" he asked.

    She smiled a sorrowful smiled. "Yes. I knew you were coming. Come sit with me on the porch and we'll talk."

    With a sigh, Wolverine walked up the steps and sat in the deck chair next to the girl. Hector hung back uncertain as to what to do. He wasn't a hero, he was just like any other kid.

    "Come up here, Hector Romeriz, I promise I won't hurt you," she promised and he walked slowly, steadily, to sit on her other side.

    Melissa looked at Wolverine with sheer determination in her eyes. "I can't come, sir," she told him, her lips set in a firm, straight line.

    "Look, kid," he gruffed, "ya have to. We need ya to win this war."

    Her eyes closed for a minute and, as she breathed in and out slowly, she spread her mind across her town. They were all still asleep. Peacefully sleeping, warm and snug in their beds knowing no fear, no pain. Each one sure of their safety and the fact that Melissa Burgross, the child that had opened their eyes, would always protect them.

    Finally, Melissa faced Wolverine. She let him look into her eyes, allowed him to see the stubbornness held there and told him, "It's not my war." Then she got up and started into the house.

    "Wait Senorita!" Hector called, speaking for the first time since the conversation had begun.

    "Yes?"

    "This is your war. It's your war, it's my war, it's the world's war," he stated brushing hair out of his eyes.

    "I don't see you asking the world for help. You're not asking the world to let go of all it has just so you can win some stupid little war!" her voice rose as she spoke. It rose until it was obvious that her decision was based more on fear than on greed.

    "All we're askin', kid, is tha'..."

    Before he could finish, Melissa cut Wolverine off. She strode over to him and stood right in front of him. Again, their eyes met. "You want me to expand my power to touch everyone. Not just the people in my town or in this state or the country but everyone in the entire world! I'm not that strong. If I don't do that," she paused and shrugged, "I don't know what the consequences would be."

    "The world would exist the way your town exists," Hector pushed. "This is a big deal for us yet it's so little for you to do. You haven't lifted a finger to help and all around the world mutants are dying. How can you be so selfish?"

    "Hec," Wolverine started warningly.

    "He's just saying what you taught him to say," Melissa muttered. "Let him speak. At least he seems to mean it." Another small breeze pushed her hair away from her face as she walked away from Wolverine.

    "What d'ya mean by that?" he questioned and began to get up himself.

    "Sit down," she commanded, turning around. "This is my home, not yours! I invited you to sit with me, talk with me, when I could have just forced you to leave. I listened to your reasons and thought about them. But my mind is made up, sir. I stay here. I stay because this is my home and these are my people. I belong here. Not fighting for your stupid crusade. Now, good bye and good night."

    She turned from the porch and walked towards the door again. There was a particularly nasty headache that was beginning to creep up on her and she suspected that it was the fault of the two X-Men still sitting on her porch. Keeping their thoughts and feelings from leaking into her town had taken more out of her than she had expected.

    Then Hector uttered something under his breath.

    "What was that?" Melissa asked the boy with the unruly dark brown hair and the calm brown eyes.

    "I said you were scared," he told her with a grin on his dark face.

    Wolverine couldn't keep himself from smiling. At first he though it be a big mistake to drag the novice off with him, even if Hec's power was the ability to change people's mind. However, the kid wasn't even using his power right now, he was just talking to Melissa.

    "I'm not scared," she argued the moonlight catching in her dark green eyes.

    "Yeah, you are," Hec persisted. "Come on, M'lissa, what's there to be afraid of?"

    Now the girl took the bait and a slow glower spread over her face. "When I was five my power activated. My parents stuck me in an institution but Professor Xavier built a wall to keep my powers back. I broke that wall and all I knew after that were voices and other people's thoughts. I grew up in a million different ways, a thousand different cultures and I loved all of them. As I grew up, I saw bigotry and hatred so I fixed it. I have done much more with my powers than you have with yours, Hector. And I am not afraid."

    Hector was on his feet now, drawing closer to the girl. His plan had succeeded. He had managed to cloud her mind enough that she wouldn't notice what he was going to do until it was too late. "I'm not afraid either, M'lissa." Then he touched her arm.

    Melissa screamed as he unleashed the totality of his power, twisting her thoughts and understanding to match the one goal he had in mind, "Come help us. Come help us." It soon became a dueling psychic battle. Melissa was stronger but hampered by the firm grip she had in her town while Hectors power was raw and barely containable. At last, her eyes fluttered closed and she said only one thing, "I will help you."

    Wolverine smiled as the boy sat down in a heap on the porch. Mission accomplished and the novice had pulled through after all.

    Veil choked on the dusty air around her and then turned to gaze at the world again. The shadows were hanging around her body, clinging to her, pulling at her. After shaking her head violently, she caught Lawrence watching her, concern etched on his face.

    He was so naive, so convinced that when her powers finally finished maturing that she would be able to carry the dark shield around with her, that she would once again be able to walk under the sun.

    He was so stupid.

    The powers were building inside her. She could _feel_ them growing, stretching, and evolving. And she knew. She knew what would become of her when she reached her full potential.

    In the end, she would become a dark creature, a girl composed of shadows, only shadows. She would run through the night like a nightmare, unable to speak or see. When life was finished with her, when this mutation reached its peak, her life would be over and only the power would live.

    The power.

    Veil hated the power. The power, the shadowy darkness, had killed Christina James. It had kidnapped her from her world of bright city lights and sunshine and turned her into a long-clawed, green haired monster.

    A slow tear trickled down Veil's cheek as she sighed and rolled her purple eyes toward the sky, watching the stars for some sign of the god that Lawrence kept going on about. It must be nice to have such a rock available as the one provided by religion. All of Veil's rocks had disappeared.

    (Then she saw Lawrence out of the corner of her eye.)

    Well, all but one of her rocks had disappeared.

***

    Drew walked among the covered corpses of the days dead. Each one had slipped through her fingers. Each one could have been saved if she'd been faster, more powerful. Each one had died for the dream.

    Drew wasn't part of the dream. She was its grim reaper.

    With a shaking hand, she brushed the smooth locks of hair away from her face and began to record the names of the dead. It was her daily chore. It was a past time she used to make herself feel closer to the people she worked besides because they felt the deaths of their friends and they grieved.

    Their angel, their healer, the girl with the big blue eyes and the soft light blond hair was locked away from emotion. However, she did try to break the walls away from her heart. Yes, she tried very hard.

    After walking through the rows of bodies, Drew stopped and drew the sheet off one of them. The man lying under it was small, with hair the color of blackish blood and skin that still had a slightly yellow tint although he was dead. She allowed her fingertips to brush along his cold cheekbone.

    "Lukas," she whispered into the quiet of the night. "Goodbye Lukas. Was it a good fight? No one expected you to go. They wanted me to save you so bad. However, you were gone already. You were gone, Lukas. You swore that you'd never leave."

    Lukas just lay there, his eyes closed, his hands folded across his chest. Not that Drew expected him to jump up and grab her hand and try to make her laugh but she didn't like seeing him so dead, so still.

    He had been a world bender. The great Lukas who needed no codename and didn't want one. The man of barely twenty-five who would grab his leather jacket and race out onto the battlefield to move the ground or the seas or just the air around the enemy. The great Lukas who had fallen when he turned around to smile at his friends.

    One of the Sentinels has stabbed an energy lance through his back. And the other warriors? They had cried, they had screamed, they were still mourning.

    Nevertheless, Drew felt nothing. Well, she felt very little. She always felt very little. Lady Elizabeth said it was a defense mechanism, a way to keep herself from getting hurt, like the way Veil insisted that Christina was dead or the way Storm didn't think about who was dead but who was fighting. Just a way to keep herself sane.

    The blond haired mutant looked up at the sky and then back at Lukas. "You left, Lukas. You broke your promise. Don't worry. I forgive you and, one day, they'll forgive me." She covered him with the sheet again and started to leave, still tallying the dead in her mind.

***

    Psylocke sat on the windowsill, her eyes focused ahead of her and her mind reaching out to talk to Wolverine. Through his eyes she saw the boy, Hector, touch Melissa. Melissa screamed and then compiled. The mission was going well. Perhaps a little too well. Maybe it was all a trick.

    ~I see the mission is going well, ~ she whispered into his mind.

    Her old friend growled slightly. ~Better than I wanted it to. I had hoped that we could convince the girl. You know how I feel about mind control, darlin'.~

    ~Yes, Logan, I know. But it was necessary for Hector to...~

    ~Look, Betts, I'm not arguin' that he didn't do what he had to. I just wish there had been some other way. We know what it feels like to have our minds controlled, our lives controlled. I'm surprised you're takin' this so lightly.~ His voice was harsh as he spoke to her of ethics and morals. This man who had killed many people, who had slashed first and asked questions later. He had been given redemption for his actions, how could he hold so much against her?

    Elizabeth sighed and paused, thinking, before she spoke again. ~I am doing what I have to, Logan. I will not lose my husband, or my friends. There are many things I cannot allow, like the deaths of the young ones here. The children we have gathered to fight alongside us. Children like Drew and Veil who have nowhere else to go and have lost so much for their powers. Melissa is the key, my friend, and I would have taken over her mind myself if it meant saving the world.~

    ~Sorry, Betts. Tell Ororo I love her and that I'm okay,~ he told her, his voice less gruff, less preaching.

    Now Betsy allowed herself a small smile as she replied, ~I will do that, old friend.~ Then she cut the link and saw the war torn world around her. To think that only a few years ago, this had been so far away and now it was resting at their feet.