(Author's Note: Welp, here we go. I've been building up to this for a looong time now, and I hope you folks enjoy the finale to my series. There'll be a relatively short epilogue after this five-parter that's outside of the thirteen-episodes-a-season structure, but everything comes to a head here. I saved this big Apocalypse thing until the end not just to—in a way—mirror how the TV series ended, but also because I literally couldn't think of a way to top it in terms of scale and impact. I hope it meets and then surpasses your expectations. Enjoy!)

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"—derstand why this is necessary. Out of all the incredible technology here, why just use a regular video camera? I feel like I'm on some crummy reality show or something."

"Because, Blink, it's going to be distributed en masse once we're done—once the New World Order is established, and all that. And—at the beginning at least—the technology we have here won't be widespread. We'll have to make do with the tech most people have access to."

"But why would they care? If anything, they'd want me dead."

"What, are you talking about the humans, or the Mutants?"

"Well… both, kinda."

"Well, the un-evolved masses don't matter. I think Apocalypse's plan has made that blatantly clear to all of us. But as for the Mutants… this is to help them understand us, to empathize with us, to understand that this is how it has to be. And since the five of us—well, nine, technically, but you know what I mean—will be the most well-known and powerful Mutants in the world soon, we need to show them our point of view—what drove us to this, and why it's for the betterment of all."

"Huh. Okay, then… I guess. Do I just speak, or—"

"Face the camera. Let your emotions come to you naturally, and then start at the beginning. Let me know when you're ready."

"Alright, just give me… wait, the red light on it is blinking."

"It is? How… oh, I must have accidentally hit it when I was setting it on the tripod. No matter, we'll edit this first part out later. Just nod when you want me to start asking the prompts."

…

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Alright. Please state your name for those viewing."

"Blink. Soon to be more widely known as the Horseman, Famine."

"And your human-given name?"

"It's…. oh, geez. Is it bad that I have to think about it for a second? It's been so many years since I've been called by it… My original name was Clarice. Clarice L'Heureux."

"Sounds French."

"It is. I was born in France."

"Interesting… you haven't the slightest French accent."

"Well, it's… been a while. I haven't spoken French since… well, almost as long as it's been since I answered to Clarice."

"And how long was that?"

"It's been about 208 years, now."

"And yet you look like you're in your mid-twenties."

"I am. I don't have some sort of accelerated healing factor like you do."

"I imagine you'll want to elaborate on that. The floor is yours."

"I was born in 1785, outside of Paris. I had a pretty unremarkable childhood, all things considered. A bit on the peasant-y side of things, but… not awful. Of course, anyone who's familiar with history knows that the infamous French Revolution started just a few years after I was born. My earliest memories were of my family just keeping to ourselves—we stay away from the violent upheaval, and it'll stay away from us, my parents said.

"But that wasn't enough, of course. The violence swept across France, regardless of whether you wanted it or not. And it wasn't just the usual violence you think of when you think of more formal warfare, no—people who supported feudalism in France—and even those who refused to take a side—were pulled apart, tortured, raped, set on fire… things really started to get bad when I was seven. A fire had been set to our village, and we were forced to flee—right into the hands of our enemy.

"It's funny… for the next two years, I thought that the ones who got pulled apart or guillotined, like my father… that they were the lucky ones. The rest of my family got put in prison, left to rot there. We were given just enough food and water to survive, but we were in near constant pain from hunger pangs and dehydration. Two of my three younger siblings died in jail, one from malnutrition and another from a sickness I couldn't identify at the time—the rats were everywhere, as were the diseases they carried.

"Two years later, in 1794, my mother had had enough. I think the second of her children dying was what triggered it, but I'm not sure. But some time after that, she just… lost all hope. Didn't talk, just sat. Thought. My surviving brother and I, we tried to get her to talk to us, but I think the more we pestered her the more we ate away at her remaining sanity.

"So, a couple of weeks later she called the guards and, to my shock, fingered me. Said that I was the little rebel in the family, the rest of them were innocent and they were sorry for keeping it a secret from those in power at the time, they had just wanted to protect their daughter, but they felt I wasn't worth it anymore—that I had been plotting against them even in jail. She… she said that you could tell my guilt just by looking at me. I didn't look right, my skin was turning pale, a little purplish even. We had privately just figured it was some sort of reaction to malnutrition, some unknown disease, or a lack of sunlight—you have to understand, it's not like we had ever even heard of Mutants. Plus, we were in the dark so often my skin color didn't come up much, anyways.

"Regardless, the guard took me out, and after going through a few 'trials' I was declared guilty and sentenced to the guillotine. To be quite honest, I was relieved when I heard the verdict—I had been betrayed by everyone I knew, I was scared why my skin was changing into such a strange color, and I just… I didn't have anything to live for. I had seen nine years of life, and I wanted no part of it.

"Of course, it appeared that the universe had other plans for me. Despite the fact that I was ready to die, when the date came I got really, really nervous. Freaked out so much as they dragged me through the raging masses who pummeled me with objects large and small that I vomited three times, emptying what little contents remained in my stomach. After a walk through the enraged masses that seemed to take forever, I was led to the guillotine. I looked briefly at my mother and remaining brother, who were in the audience—looking for guilt, rage, anything. But nothing remained in their cold, dark eyes. To my young mind at least, they were unreadable.

"And then I heard the blade come down and I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come… only I never felt the blade. I opened my eyes again and found myself surrounded by a constant pink aura. All I could make out outside of the pink light surrounding me was an empty blackness, punctuated by little pinpricks of light that constantly and abruptly changed their positions. Every now and then—barely just enough time for my brain to register it—I glimpsed a large colored orb somewhat close to me.

"I wasn't really anywhere, and yet I was practically everywhere at the same time. The shock, the stress of the guillotine just about to drop had finally triggered my mutation—only I couldn't control it. Since I have no limit as to how far I can teleport—at least as far as I can determine—I was teleporting all over the universe to completely random spots. The little pinpricks of light were the star fields abruptly changing, the larger orbs stars or planets I saw for the briefest fraction of a second before I teleported away from them again. I imagine I also teleported a sphere of air around me with myself, and constantly darting to-and-fro across the universe so quickly it didn't really have time to dissipate into space much. I've since learned that when I teleport, I encase myself in a protective sphere of energy for a very short time—that's what causes the light. Since I was constantly teleporting, the protective sphere never went away, so I didn't begin to feel the effects of being out in the cold of space.

"Of course, I didn't have the slightest idea what was going on at the time. I only figured this out later. At that time, I just completely lost it. I started to hyperventilate, and that combined with the complete lack of nourishment in my system and the rapidly flashing pattern of lights in my vision quickly got to me. Although it seemed like an eternity in my mind, it was probably only about four or five minutes later that I went into a seizure. The last thing I thought of before I faded out was my home outside of Paris, the way it was before it was burned to the ground.

"When I came to again, I was there. The field outside of Paris—I couldn't believe it, but then I was in such a trance-like state after what had just happened that I just accepted it anyways—I had come to the conclusion that I was dreaming. Once I gathered my senses, I took a look around—and found no trace of my village, despite the topography matching what I remembered exactly. As far as I can tell, that last thought of mine—home—must have focused my power enough where I actually teleported to where I had thought of, and stayed there instead of continuing to teleport around randomly.

"Anyways, I saw a house—a rather odd-looking one—on a distant hill. I walked up to it, knocked on the door, and the people who answered it were dressed in clothes the likes of which I had never seen before. There was also some sort of box in the living room behind them, displaying images that seemed to me to be magical. They freaked out at my appearance, I freaked out at theirs and their 'magic box'—and this time, I teleported away, purposefully.

"Over the next few days, I found out that, no, I wasn't in a dream—it had lasted too long, hurt too much, to not be real. The technology everyone was using was practically beyond my comprehension—but, by stealing a few things like makeup, I was eventually able to blend into society. That was the one good thing about the situation, at least—given my powers, I could take just about anything I wanted, find out any information I wanted.

"To my surprise, I soon found out that the year was 1987. Over time, I emigrated to the United States—now the center of power in the world—learned English pretty thoroughly, and led a life on the outskirts of society. I never stayed in one place for long, of course, but I stole and stashed considerable amounts of money from every currency you could think of hidden in various nooks and crannies around the world. I used them to live a pretty decent life, usually taking up residence in various hotels over the years for a few days under a false identity before continuing to move on. I even—heh—I even have a stash on the Moon for a lot of the REALLY valuable stuff I've stolen over the years. I know exactly where they all are—I can quickly teleport there and back in less than a second. You know how governments tend to 'lose' sums of money that are large by themselves, but still small in the overall picture of how much they spend every year? More of that than you'd think is in one of my stashes.

"Still, one gaping question eluded me—how the heck did I manage to teleport almost two hundred years into the future in the space of what was just a few minutes to me? It took me a long time, but eventually I read a theory in a popular science magazine one day a few years ago, and so far it's the only explanation that's made remotely any sense.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the idea that gravity and time are related—quantum physics, Einstein, and all that stuff. Well, there's a theory that black holes have gravity that's so intense, if somehow a person was to slowly pass through one and survive, as they neared the event horizon—the center plane, basically—time would speed up more and more from their perspective. They would literally watch the rest of the universe die out and fade into oblivion within seconds. And, as far as I can figure, that's what happened to me, albeit so swiftly I didn't realize it at the time. During one of my thousands—perhaps even hundreds of thousands—of teleports in the span of that couple of minutes or so that I was criss-crossing throughout the universe, I must have gotten near a black hole. Close enough where was I sucked down just a tad towards the event horizon, but so incredibly briefly that I didn't really start to feel the effects of the gravity—I wasn't crushed, after all. So during that tiniest miniscule fraction of a second that I was near a black hole, I must've been pushed forward two hundred years. It doesn't quite seem possible, but, well—none of my experiences that day did. That's the best explanation I've been able to come up with."

"Very interesting. You've certainly led a very unique life. Before I finish this interview, though, I'd like to ask you one last question—why did you decide to join us? What about Apocalypse appealed to you, and how did you figure out that he was right?"

"My experience—my history. My childhood in the French Revolution made me realize this more than any one other thing, but—humans are animals. There are no depths to which they will not sink—not even someone you think you know was a good person, like my mother. Eventually she got desperate enough where she resorted to her own base, self-preserving desires—and if it killed one of her children, then that was fine with her. Humans can't be trusted to look after themselves—no, someone better than them has to do it for them. They don't know what they need and what they don't need, and even if they do they'll ignore it for some temporary self-satisfaction. Logic is brief and fleeting in the human brain. I find it interesting, how so many individuals seem to tote how 'wonderful' democracy is, but in fact it's a cancer. Just look at the world today—it's taken a few hundred years, sure, but dictatorships and more 'repressive' forms of government are coming back. Democracy, republics—they've failed. People cannot govern themselves. Up until recently, the only real solution to that was to have the 'best' of them govern—but even then, as one can plainly see, the 'best' humans can get corrupted and go down the road.

"We're better than that, however. We're the next stage of human evolution, after all—it's a self-evident fact. I thought Magneto understood that, but unfortunately he had enough human left in him that he was corrupted by that power, too. I've seen Apocalypse's vision for the future—a future without humans, only Mutants—and although not completely perfect, it's a very large step up from what we've got going on now. After the Reaping, the world will at last be a safe, logical place that finally makes sense. We'll only have a few rulers—Apocalypse and us, his Horsemen—overseeing everything, assuring that the evolution of the human race continues to grow into something better, something worth saving. And when it's time for whatever follows us, Apocalypse will gladly turn over power. But people need kings and rulers, and from what I've glimpsed of his mind, En Sabah Nur is the one to lead us all.

"And to those Mutants who are watching this and wondering how I can approve 'genocide' while condemning the actions of the French Revolution and my mother—you're comparing apples to oranges, I'm afraid. Humans, as I said, are animals, and now we finally have a better alternative. So don't ever, EVER think twice about killing a human, particularly if they're in the way. What we're doing—what we've done—is no different than clearing out a bunch of anthills to make way for the foundation of a house. It's Progress defined—and those of us who stand in the way of that Progress deserve to suffer the same fate as the ants, too."

"I can't believe it's already that time of the year again."

"Yeah, Bobby, it's amazing how time flies when someone isn't trying to kill us every week," Jubilee said, reclining back in her chair as the various X-Men present gathered in the meeting room, the large decorated Christmas tree in the center surrounded by presents for everyone.

"Well, there's a part of me that hopes that our roster doesn't continue to expand so much," Rogue said, coming over and sitting back in her own seat. "It's gettin' more and more expensive to get everyone presents. Next year I think I might just start giving presents to groups of you guys, instead."

"You guys should just do the Hanukkah thing," Kitty said. "Little gifts."

"Yeah, but they're over several days," Jubilee replied. "Isn't that, like, more than a Christmas haul overall?"

"…Sometimes. It doesn't have to be."

"I think we all know that these gifts, they are not the true meaning of Christmas—or the holiday season," Piotr said, glancing at Kitty briefly before amending the end of his sentence. "Being together, getting to see our families… this is the true meaning."

"Well, that and the whole 'Jesus being born' thing," Paige smirked.

"I don't know guys, I'm still just a little nervous," Cessily said from her spot on the ground near the tree. "Last year at about this time, well… on the way home some of us got attacked by the Brotherhood 2.0. Not a fun time. I just… w-worry about things this time of year. Like someone will try to take advantage of the whole situation again."

"Oh, come on," Bobby said. "Magneto and Mystique are dead; the Acolytes are being held by S.H.I.E.L.D., who have also turned those Brotherhood losers into a surprisingly effective special ops team, from what I've heard; the few Mutants out there who still aren't on our side—like Gambit or the Morlocks—aren't against us, either; and it being the holiday season, Mayor Kelly's off on holiday along with any other politician that could cause trouble for us. What could happen?"

A couple of the X-Men gathered around the tree just stared at Bobby, while a few others chuckled.

"Ohmigod, you did NOT just say that," Jubilee said, edging a bit away from the ice-encased Mutant. "You did NOT just jinx us."

"Oh, come on!" Bobby said, laughing. "You don't really believe in that kinda stuff, do you?"

"I've watched enough television to know what happens when someone says something like that."

"Yes, because television equals reality. Smart thinking, Jubes."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't tempt—"

"Okay, the last of us are here!" Hank said loudly as he, Maverick, and a reluctant Laura entered the room, interrupting Bobby and Jubilee's dialogue as everyone focused on Beast. "Now, who's going to be the 'Santa' this year?"

Laura murmured something to herself and crossed her arms. Maverick quietly chided her and led her to a seat. Only a few paid attention, long having gotten used to Laura's questioning of any sort of "useless" traditions—it didn't take much imagination to guess what she had been muttering about, anyways.

For those who were paying attention closely enough, however, just the slightest hint of a smirk came on her face for a moment as Jamie—in the seat next to her—started to chant, "Please be me, please be me…"

"Here's the hat—everyone's names are in it," Scott said, handing Hank's upturned low-brimmed gray hat over to Xavier. "Care to do the honors again, Professor?"

"I'd be happy to," Xavier smiled, pulling one of the many slips of paper out of the hat and unfolding it. "And the gift-giver this year is… Roberto!"

"Aww…" Jamie frowned.
"Alright, finally!" Roberto said, pumping a fist in the air as he got up, put on the Santa hat, and made his way over to the tree, looking amongst the presents. "Let's see, first present is… from me, to Rahne!"

"What a surprise," Rogue murmured quietly as Roberto picked up the small gift and took it over to a visibly excited Rahne. "Y'know, I'm hardly Laura when it comes to Christmas or anything like that, but I don't really get this part of it—we definitely didn't do it the first Christmas I was here, when it was just me and eight others. What's the big deal about being the one to hand out the gifts? Why can't we all just give our gifts out to each other whenever we want to?"
"Mass chaos, that's why," Paige smiled. "Trust me, being someone who's come from a big family—you get the people who are the most eager to get the presents bugging everyone, while a couple always 'abstain' and want to open theirs last. Not to mention you've also got the people most eager to have their presents opened and those who don't really care either way. It gets to be a mess quickly. Picking someone who's the 'gift giver', it just makes things go more smoothly…. though of course, when someone like Roberto gets picked, that means all the gifts to and from him get opened first…"

"Doesn't matter to me—like Rogue, I didn't bother putting my name in the hat," Alex said, reclining back in his own chair, hands behind his head. "I'm just glad to finally have my bro—and his wife, now—with me and my foster parents this Xmas, y'know? Way too many Xmases have passed with us separate. And then next Xmas, Scott and I will go stay with Jean's family, sort of switch back and forth."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to be a bit more interesting, this time," Rogue said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over Rahne's excited thanks to Roberto—apparently he had gotten her a novel she had been dying to read. Glancing over at Laura and Maverick, she continued, "The crew left here when everyone who has a home leaves tomorrow… it's gonna be a bit different than usual."

"I'm nervous. Are you nervous?"

"Of course I'm nervous, Blink," Rockslide said, doing the equivalent of rolling the small glowing white cracks in his face that were essentially his eyes. "I'm just not a chatterbox when I get nervous. Shut up already."

"This is unlike you, Blink," the Five-in-One all replied.

"You're only saying that because all of you haven't had that… diamond-thing… inside your head like I have. You haven't experienced it. It just… it opens up everything. It's been four long, long months since Apocalypse let me glimpse it. The wait has been agonizing… and now it's finally, finally almost here."

"Yeah, well, I'll see how well it holds up to your expectations," Rockslide rumbled. "I think you were just overwhelmed, from… whatever it showed you. I've learned from experience, nothing is THAT good. There's always a downside."

"Are you… are you saying you don't trust Apocalypse?" the Five-in-One said. "He's allowed us to scan his mind, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard what all of you have seen in his head," Rockslide said. "And the thing I'M saying is that he's the most powerful Mutant in the world. How do you KNOW he's giving you full access?"

"I know he's given me full access," Blink said, crossing her arms. "I can't tell you how anymore—my access to that diamond-thing's information has been cut off after my brief glimpse—but he's not holding anything back. Besides, if you don't trust him, why have you been with us for this long?"

"I'm not saying that I distrust him. I'm not saying that I trust him, either. I don't know yet," Rockslide sighed. "Look, I've been picked on, used, or been an outcast pretty much all my life, okay? I'm not exactly the most trusting type. So give me a break. If he turns out to be the real deal, then good for all of us. And good for the world. But I'm not gonna be surprised if he ends up screwing us over once this all takes off. Just be ready for anything, is all I'm saying."

"You don't need to complain to ME about being a distrustful outcast," Blink mumbled.

Rockslide was about to respond when the door they had all been standing in front of slid open—on the other side stood Sinister, Apocalypse, and a few H.Y.D.R.A. techs fiddling with several pieces of silver tech in the middle of the large room.

Although the pieces of technology had clearly been separate, when combined together and stood up against one wall they formed a structure that had the rough shape of the Greek letter Omega, with the center of the circular part hollow.

"Alright, we're just about ready to fire it up," Sinister smiled. "You all can come in, now."

"So this leads to 'Utopia', I take it?" Rockslide asked. "Once it's activated, I mean."

Sinister opened his mouth to reply, but Apocalypse uncharacteristically cut in.

"It is not called Utopia, and it never was. It will be the center from which we will orchestrate our assault, and from which we will govern this new world, but the place was created as a military craft and it has always been my intention to use it as one."

"But it'll usher in Utopia," Rockslide said.

"…Yes," Apocalypse replied, his face unreadable. "After the required purifying this world will need."

"Uh-huh," Rockslide said, obviously unconvinced. "So when exactly will this big reveal of your existence to the world and the 'purifying' take place? 'Cause we've been working for you for months now and we haven't seen squat. You'll pardon me if I'm getting a bit impatient."

One end of Apocalypse's lips curled up in a slight smirk. "When you have been alive as long as I have, you realize how quick mere 'months' pass. But your concern is noted, and is justified. You want to see your reward. Now is the time to tell you, then—there are but two more steps for us to accomplish, and then I will divide the artifact into enough component parts for all of you, and will fully activate them. You will become my Horsemen then, and your powers… will become beyond what you have dreamed possible."

"And this artifact—I don't suppose it'll take control of our minds like you did with your previous four Horsemen, will it?"

Blink and the Five-in-One both visibly balked at Rockslide's brutally honest question, but Apocalypse's expression didn't change one bit.

Looking Rockslide right in the eyes, Apocalypse said firmly, "No. It will not. I realize now that that was my mistake last time—relying on mind control. I need willing servants—otherwise I leave a gaping flaw that my enemies will no doubt exploit again."

Rockslide nodded. "Fair enough."

"However, that being said," Apocalypse continued, his tone taking on a colder feel, "Never forget that you—and everyone else—is my subordinate. If I ever so much as sense a real intention to overthrow me, be assured that I will crush it. Swiftly."

"Hey, if you do what you say you're going to, I've got no beef with you being the boss," Rockslide shrugged.

"Good, because we're going to need all of you quite a bit over the next few days," Sinister finally cut in. "My technicians are having quite a difficult time getting this thing together, and Apocalypse's detailed knowledge of the artifact was…. taken… from him after abandoning the Eye of Ages in space-time. It took all of H.Y.D.R.A.'s available resources to manufacture this portal device based on Apocalypse's vague recollection of its blueprints, and even then we had to create it in several pieces, as you can plainly see behind me. The element this portal is made of, it's not… we don't have a name for it yet. It took all of any one H.Y.D.R.A. station's power to create just a part of it. All of you—Blink, Rockslide, Five-in-one—you are going to spend the next few days helping my techs with anything they need, whether it's something vital like aiding in calculations or something as simple as getting them a cup of coffee. Is that understood?"

All of the up-and-coming Horsemen nodded, though Blink raised her hand briefly, her tone noticeably more timid and anxious than Rockslide's.

"So, how long will we be working on this? And couldn't I just teleport us all to wherever Apocalypse wants us to go?"

"To answer your first question—seven or eight days," Sinister shrugged. "It's difficult to tell exactly with tech this insanely advanced. But that fits in nicely with Apocalypse's time scale, anyways.

"As for your second—from what Apocalypse has told me, the place we're going is protected by some sort of energy field that prevents ANY method of getting around it, minus the one we're trying. If you attempt to teleport in, phase in, whatever—you'll be killed within seconds, your molecules scattered to the wind. Although I can't be certain because I didn't personally study the previous pyramid domes, I'd imagine it's of a similar kind of energy—hence why the X-Men never really tried to simply teleport inside during their previous attack on Apocalypse, and why, from what I am told, it very nearly killed the X-Man named Shadowcat after she tried to phase a probe through."

"Wait a sec, you mentioned that there's a time scale—so we actually have a date nailed down for revealing ourselves, do we?" Rockslide smiled. "That means we ARE close."

"Indeed," Sinister replied, "and it's meant to create as much of a psychological impact as possible."

"We will reveal ourselves on December thirty-first—eight days from now, going by your Western calendar," Apocalypse said, "Though it will be a limited revelation, at that time. Come January first… well, we will certainly let the populace of this world know that 2004 is when the Age of Apocalypse will truly begin."

"And you're sure you're going to be okay, Hisako? During the whole gift exchange yesterday, you barely said anything—you just kept in a corner to yourself."

"I… I must admit, I am not used to this 'Christmas' ceremony," Hisako said, her Japanese accent thick and her words stilted as she struggled with the English. "And I still have much difficulty taking in the words as fast as every person talks. But I am learning."

"Well, in that case, have a wonderful couple of weeks back with your parents in Japan," Hank said, putting a large hand on Hisako's small shoulder. "We will see you back here soon after New Years' Day."

"Yes… I will see you then," Hisako said, bowing slightly before turning her attention to Piotr, who was standing behind Hank along with Rogue, Kitty, Christoph, Laura, and Xavier.

"Well, I guess we should be going," Piotr said, giving Rogue and Kitty a bear hug and the others a handshake. "I will drop Hisako off at the airport before I go back to my own home… Speaking of which, thank you again for moving them here, Professor."

Xavier merely nodded and waved it away. "It's the least we could do after Magneto… well, that's probably best left unsaid."

"Yes… yes, it is," Piotr sighed. "Still, I will only be across town, should any of you need me. I will see you all in a little over a week."

The various X-Men waved good-bye to the last two of them to leave the Mansion for the holiday break, and as Hank closed the front doors to the Mansion, the others slowly walked away, each having their own things to finish up before tomorrow, when they would all hold a small celebration amongst themselves for Christmas Eve.

"Hey, Kitty—you okay?" Rogue asked, noticing Kitty's downcast expression as they both began to ascent the foyer stairs to the second floor. "I mean, this is the fourth Christmas now that I've been here, but, well… I know how lonely it can be after almost everyone leaves. Remember that your mom's coming in tomorrow to help keep us all company."

"Trust me Rogue, I'm not going to forget something like that," Kitty said, smiling sadly. "It's just… this is the first Hanukkah I've been through without my dad. I'm just… drifting in between moments of sadness and moments where I'm distracted enough where it slips my mind for a little bit. Plus, y'know… I don't really have a home, anymore."

"Hey, I get it—I don't need to tell you about my own past, by this point," Rogue said, lightly putting a comforting hand on Kitty's shoulder. "But, well… I've come to think of THIS place as my home, now. Winter Break is just a bit of 'alone time' for me. It took a while for me, I imagine it'll take a while for you, too. Though I do confess I'm gonna miss Scott being around this time 'a year… but at least I've set up a time to pay a visit to Gambit in a few days."

"You and him are getting awfully close, aren't you?" Kitty asked.

"Well, it's been so long since I could touch anybody, and now that I can—even for short periods—well, I'm taking advantage of it," Rogue shrugged. "Who knows how long somethin' like this'll last, after all. But beneath all the thievery and his past with the Acolytes, I just… I see something better in him. I'm hoping I can bring more of it to the surface… like the X-Men did for me."

"Just… just be careful, is all I'm saying," Kitty said softly. "I once thought the same thing about Lance, but… well, just be careful."

"I've been played by Gambit a few times, I know what I'm getting into," Rogue said, winking briefly before her expression became more solemn again. "But hey, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where my room is."

"Thanks," Kitty said, quickly wiping away a tear that had snuck its way down her cheek. "No, really, Rogue, I… I really appreciate it. Maybe sometime in the future, though. I'm just… I'm not ready to yet."

Rogue nodded silently in understanding and started to take off in the direction of her own room when Kitty's voice interrupted her motion and she turned back around.

"Say, Rogue… I know this is a bit of change of subject, but what's going on with M… er, Monet? I haven't heard much from her lately."

"Neither have I, interestingly enough," Rogue said, shrugging. "Even in my head, she's all but shut up after Xavier got this close to erasing her from my mind completely after that bit she pulled with that group that had killed a teacher at Bayville High. I think Xavier finally managed to scare some sense into her—I'm pretty sure she's sulking."

"Well, don't let her get TOO detached—according to what Destiny said, we'll need her," Kitty replied.

"How could I forget," Rogue said, rolling her eyes. "Even though M's been quiet for the most part, she still takes every chance to remind me of that whenever I get down on her."

The squeaky wheel gets the grease, you know.

"Anyways," Rogue said, ignoring M's voice in her head and stretching, "I'm gonna get a little nap in. We were all up way too late last night with the pre-Christmas party and everything."

"Yeah, I'm thinking about hitting the sack myself," Kitty said. "I'll talk to you later, Rogue."

"Not that I don't appreciate you stopping by on Christmas, Forge, but… what is it?"

"It's a hover-chair," Forge said, getting some help from Beast as he carried it into the Mansion's front room. "I scaled it to fit with your measurements, and you see these circular ports on the bottom? Well, those allow this thing to hover. It uses hydrogen from the air as a power source, and at its regular setting—hovering a few feet above the floor—it's pretty much self-sustaining. It'll run essentially forever—or at least MUCH longer than you'll ever be using it at one time, that's for sure. If you push it to reach higher altitudes, that increases the power it needs, so I don't think you could actively maintain flight for more than ten or fifteen minutes, but I'm still working on that part. Who knows, maybe once I improve the battery on this thing you'll be able to use it for longer."

"A hover-chair?" Xavier said, an eyebrow raised. "This is definitely intriguing. Forge, you really are an absolute genius."

"Eh, it's just part of my power," Forge said, waving the compliment away with his robotic hand. "I just figured, hey, I know when you're are in a battle sometimes you have to rely on Jean or whomever to protect you. I figured this would help your handicap, y'know… not be so much of a handicap. Want to give it a whirl?"

Xavier chuckled. "Well, I suppose it would be rude to turn down a Christmas gift, much less one as large and well-thought-out as this one. Certainly, Forge. Hank, do you mind…?"

"Not at all, Charles," Hank said, putting the yellow-and-dark-blue chair on the ground and helping Xavier out of his wheelchair. The others who were in the foyer at the time—Christoph, as well as Kitty's mother—just stood by the sidelines, outwardly happy but inwardly hoping nothing malfunctioned.

"Here, you lift out this compartment first," Forge said, flipping out a large panel on the top out so that the full seat for Xavier and his legs was accessible. "And then once you're in, you close it back up and fire it up—all the switches to control it are on the little side arms next to where you sit, there. I tried to model them as close as possible to how your regular wheelchair's controls work."

After Hank helped him into the seat and Forge closed it back up, Xavier flipped the "on" switch and the hover-chair slowly came up to about two feet above the ground, a very quiet humming the only aural indication it was even running.

"Its infrared sensors automatically detect changes in elevation," Forge replied as Xavier backed it up towards the foyer's steps, surprised slightly as the hover-chair began to raise itself up without his input.

"This is certainly quite the gift," Xavier replied.

"We have a gift for you as well, but it seems, well… inadequate," Hank said, pulling out a gift card to a local restaurant they knew Forge was fond of.

"Oh, hey, thanks!" Forge said excitedly, swiping the card from Hank's palm excitedly with his normal hand and taking an eager look at it. "Awesome, I'll put this to good use, that's for sure."

"Honestly, Forge, Hank is correct—we do owe you a great deal more than we've given you," Xavier said, pushing the hover-chair back towards the door. "You've been—directly or indirectly—responsible for over half of the Mansion's upgrades over these past few years, after all."

"How're your contracts coming along? I hear pretty much every government agency and corporation from here to Singapore wants you working on projects for them," Hank asked.

"Oh, okay," Forge said. "And don't worry, I'm not letting them push me past any ethical boundaries—I learned my lesson with that whole time machine debacle. Your guys' equipment is always my first priority—but all the contracts ARE keeping me pretty busy. I barely have time even for my parents anymore—though at their age, there's no way I could leave the house now. Even today, I just came by to drop the hover-chair off. I need to get back to my lab."

"You're working on Christmas?" Hank asked, his tone a mixture of disappointment and disapproval."

"I don't mind it, really," Forge said, shrugging. "I've always got ideas running through my head, and I get antsy if I go too long without testing them out. I've got a spot open for New Years', though—I'll be sure to drop by then."

"Sure, then—and thanks again, Forge," Xavier said, he and Beast waving as Forge opened up the door to head out into the cold again.

Forge waved back with his normal hand before turning back, his mechanical legs carrying him effortlessly through the two-foot-deep snow covering the Mansion grounds as he headed towards the gate.

"And now the poke's on YOU! No, no, that's stupid. That sounds… no, that's not what I'm going for…"

"Wade, what are you doing?"

"Brainstorming great one-liners. While waiting for that inevitable phone call."

"Okay, first off," Domino said, pinching her sinuses, "One-liners… really? And secondly, 'inevitable' phone calls? It's been quite a while now since we've gotten any calls for merc work. Do you really think anybody would call during a holiday week? Pretty much everyone's off, now. You should be, too."

"Pfeh," Deadpool said, waving Domino away while he concentrated on the piece of paper in front of him, his pencil worn down to a dull nub. "We can't be off now, Dom! We'll get a call any day, now. Any minute. THAT'S why I'm camping here by the phone—there's no way I'm missing any of THIS action just so I can get in a few extra hours of sleep over the break."

"So you'd rather just lay here in our little dank hideout in the middle of nowhere instead of actually using the money we've earned over the past year to take a vacation to somewhere… warmer. It's two days past Christmas, Wade, and I am getting a serious case of cabin fever. I've waited for as long as I can, but if you aren't going to even entertain the idea of a vacation, then I'm going on one myself before the holidays are completely over."

"Suit yourself," Deadpool said. "But this is the friggin' finale, Dom. I ain't missing this for the world."

"A finale? Finale to what? Is one of your beloved corny sitcoms finally ending, Wade?"

"Not a finale, Dom, THE finale. As in, the end. Done. Finito. And EVERYONE knows that in any finale worth its salt, everyone who's ever appeared in the series all comes together for one last big battle to save the world, or the universe, or at least the greater Tri-State Area. So that's why I'm waiting for the phone to ring—I'm waiting for THE call of our career."

"…Wade, you're making even less sense than usual."

"Look, just… trust me on this, okay? If you wanna leave, you go right ahead, but you'll be missing out on the mission of a lifetime."

"…You're serious."

"DEAD serious. If you've never believed me before, Dom, believe me now. You leave now, you're gonna miss everything."

"You really should get a cell phone, Wade…"

"Cell phones? Pfft. I know a fad when I see one. I learned my lesson after I invested in the Virtual Boy."

Domino buried her head in her hands, thinking for a minute before she finally threw her hands up in the air and sighed. "Fine. I'll stay around. But if you're wrong, Wade—you owe me TEN of your guns. MY choice."

"Deal," Wade said without hesitation. "In fact, we can—"

He was interrupted as the phone rang. Domino stared at the phone in disbelief as Deadpool picked it up eagerly.
"Yes, yes, hello! This is Deadpool and Domino, mercenaries at your… huh? …Yes, this is Wade Wilson, if you prefer to- Augh. AUGH. No, we do NOT want to switch phone providers! Who gave you this number?!"

Domino sighed and left the room, shaking her head, leaving Deadpool to his "stakeout".

"Look, buddy, if you don't hang up NOW, I…. well, yes I do think their coverage bites, but, out HERE, in the middle of—Really? Data rates THAT high, huh? What's the cost? …Wow, that's pretty—wait, there's a catch, isn't there. Some dumb contract I have to sign or something… No contracts, seriously? Alright, now I'm listening…"

"Sinister, I must… commend you. Getting the H.Y.D.R.A. scientists to finish this by today… was not an easy task. Yet you have enough control over your organization to have gotten it done."

"Oh, please, DO go on," Sinister smirked, "But after we go through the portal to the other side."

"Yeah, what exactly's on the other side of this?" Blink asked as the H.Y.D.R.A. scientists in the underground facility finished their last test of the portal and began to extract all the monitoring equipment from the device, now fully functional, the shimmering circle in the middle a shade of purplish blue. "I know you've told us 'Utopia', but…"

"The final pyramid," Apocalypse said. "I will need to go through first."

"You? Are you certain?" Sinister asked, arching an eyebrow. "I figured you'd want to send in of my expendable soldiers first. Or at least one of us."

"No, the defenses—if they are still activated, which they should be—will destroy any person who arrives inside the structure that is not me. They are keyed to my Mutant energy signature. Wait here until I return—it should only take a few moments to deactivate the security protocols that I need to."

Sinister, Rockslide, Blink, and the Five-in-One were all silent as Apocalypse walked swiftly into the portal, only the slightest ripple in the teleportation field remaining after he had walked all the way through.

"So, any bets on whether the most powerful Mutant in existence just killed himself or not?" Rockslide asked.
"You really think Apocalypse would go through were he not certain it would work?" the Five-in-One questioned.

"He's pretty powerful, but he's not an all-knowing god or something," Rockslide replied. "And honestly, it's more my lack of faith in the H.Y.D.R.A scientists—and us—knowing what we were doing than lack of faith in Apocalypse, in this case."

"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence," Sinister mumbled sarcastically.

"I know how you feel about Apocalypse taking over your organization," Rockslide said back quietly, standing right next to Sinister as he was. "And I wouldn't put sabotage past you."

"Well," Sinister said quietly back, crossing his arms, "I may be power-hungry, but even I have learned not to test Apocalypse. He's very nearly the only person on Earth who can kill me."

"Uh-huh," Rockslide said back, clearly unconvinced.

"Honestly, we are looking forward more to what happens after we are shown this 'Utopia'," the Five-in-One said. "It is December thirty-first, after all, which means any moment now we get to go after our… targets. We think we shall have fun with ours."

"Lucky," Rockslide said. "All I get to do is kill a kid, and one that can't even really fight back."

"Shh, he's coming back," Blink said as Apocalypse suddenly returned through the portal, though he didn't take more than a step back inside the hidden H.Y.D.R.A. base they had all been taking refuge in for the past several months.

"…Well?" Sinister asked. "What's going on?"

"The last pyramid is in worse shape that I had expected, but the defenses were still operational," Apocalypse said. "I have booted up the rudimentary systems and told the defense systems to stand down. Come, all of you—Blink, you must learn where this final pyramid is, as now you will be able to teleport into it unharmed."

"Good to know," Blink said, as all of them made their way through the portal one by one.

Apocalypse's subordinates had expected the place to be large, but they were all astounded just by HOW large it was. The angled ceiling was almost unfathomably high up above where they entered through the pyramid's interior portal, and the walls were lined with large inert Egyptian statue-guardians similar to the kind that the X-Men had encountered underneath the Sphinx. There were also several large glowing light-blue tubes criss-crossing high above them, presumably power conduits to all the different systems inside the pyramid.

"Oh, wow," Blink said in awe. "Now this… THIS is a PYRAMID."

"How come you didn't just use this when you first attempted to turn the world's humans into Mutants?" the Five-in-One asked.

"This structure was not made for that purpose," Apocalypse said. "This was made for a phase… after that."

"A phase which we're about to begin," Sinister said, rubbing his hands eagerly as he avidly looked over all the incredibly futuristic tech that lined the enormous room— a room so big, in fact, that their voices and footsteps didn't even set off any echoes.

"Yes, but we still have work to do until it is fully operational," Apocalypse responded before turning to Blink. "Blink, have you fixed this place in your mind yet?"

"I have," Blink said, "But I'm still not sure exactly where 'this place' is."

"I've just pulled up H.Y.D.R.A.'s own GPS system," Sinister said, motioning to an electronic tablet-like device he was holding in his hands. "It's in… wait. No, this can't be right…"

"Huh," Rockslide said, taking a look at Sinister's gadget. "Guess that explains why a pyramid this big was never uncovered by anyone else."

"Enough of this… back-and-forth," Apocalypse said. "It is inconsequential, and we have much to do within the next several hours if we are to be ready by midnight. Blink, you now know where we are. You, as well as Rockslide and Five-in-One—you have your targets, the only three Mutants who could pose a problem to our plans. You know what to do with them. Once you have completed your assignments, I will give you the artifact as a reward for your loyalty. Now. Go."

"As you command," Blink said, bowing slightly. Taking hold of Rockslide, she blinked out with him, a second later re-appearing in the same position minus the rock Mutant she had just carried instantaneously through space. Repeating the process with each of the Five-in-One, she then teleported back once more, smiled, and teleported to her own target's location.

"Now that that is taken care of," Apocalypse said, turning to Sinister, "I have two things I need you to do for me before we get started on reactivating all of this pyramid's systems. First—activate our sleeper agent."

"With pleasure," Sinister smirked, taking a small light blue device out of his pocket that was clearly of similar tech as the rest of Apocalypse's other various devices and pressed a small button. It began to pulse slightly, apparently activated.

"Now. What's the second?"

"Kill every last one of your H.Y.D.R.A. subordinates and the bases that contain them."

"Look, I understand your point, but you haven't seen what I have, Dad. These Mutants… even the 'good' ones like the X-Men, they've done plenty of bad things and then just covered it up later. I don't suppose I need to remind you of the so-called 'fireworks explosion disaster' shortly after I became principal of Bayville High?" Edward Kelly said from his position around the living room, several of his relatives over for the holiday season and New Years' Eve.

It was still light outside—a few hours too early for the various countdown specials on television to have begun—so to pass the time, the family was simply sitting around, talking.

"Just remember that they're people too, son," Kelly's grandfather said to him. "With all their freaky powers 'n whatnot, they're still people."

"Yes, but Edward's right—he's responsible for a city now, and a city that's had quite a rash of disasters in the last few years," Kelly's grandmother said to her husband. "I admit even being in Bayville for the past week like we have, I've been a bit nervous… what with our son being such a high target and all, I worry that a Mutant might try to take advantage of the recess and… you know…"

"Oh, don't think like that, Gertrude," Kelly's father said back. "He's been around this long and nothing's happened to him."

"That's only because I've been careful not to—" Kelly began, but suddenly stopped, his eyes growing strangely distant.

"Son? Son, are you alright?" Gertrude Kelly asked, suddenly concerned.

Edward Kelly didn't respond, he just stood up and began walking out of the room.

"Uncle Eddy?" said Edward's four-year-old niece, who had been busy playing on the floor with some alphabet blocks. "Uncle Eddy, what's—oof!"

Edward Kelly walked right by his niece as if she wasn't even there—given that she was directly between him and the door, he almost kicked her over, but she managed to take a step out of the way at the last second and was merely shoved to the ground.

Edward's niece began to cry softly for a few moments until her mother—Edward's sister—came over to comfort her.

"Edward, what the heck's wrong with—you?" Edward's sister asked, turning up to look at her brother with scorn—only to find that he had already opened the house's front door and walked out into the cold, not even bothering to put on a coat as he closed the door behind him.

"Hey. Kid."

Dorian Leitch gasped, looking up from the handheld video game toy he had been playing with to see an enormous rock-man in his bedroom—even though he was hunched over, the top of his back nearly reached the ceiling, his bulk completely filling up the doorway. Although Dorian had been engrossed in his game, he hadn't heard the slightest noise—not the opening of his mother's apartment door, no footsteps, nothing.

Immediately Dorian dropped his game to the floor, backing up against the side of his bedroom, too scared to do anything except stutter, "W-who are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the rock-man said, a look of regret briefly flashing across his features. "Where's your mom?"

"She's- she's out shop—"

"Bah, so she's not here, huh?" the rock-man grumbled. "I had hoped for a witness; it would help make this less… messy."

"Make this less… wh-what?" Dorian said, fully panicking by now.

"Look, kid, I'm really sorry about this," the rock-man said, rising up to his full height and raising an arm, the hand of which was clenched into a fist. "I've got nothing against you personally, y'know? You actually remind me of me when I was your age… well, minus the green skin, of course. But you picked your side last time—and it was the wrong side. I promise I'll make it quick."

Dorian didn't even have time to stutter a response before Rockslide punched him full-on, the giant rock fist smashing a hole in the wall and window behind the green-skinned Mutant and letting his shattered corpse fall to the sidewalk three stories below, along with the other wall debris.

Forge nearly hit his head on the bottom of the car as he heard a sudden BLINK! sound come from right next to him, a pink flash of light quickly fading as he noticed the purple pair of feet standing next to his head.

Quickly rolling out from underneath the car he had been working on in the garage, he yanked his goggles off, getting up and changing his mechanical hand into what looked like an electrical gun.

"Well, at least you're not so focused on your bazillion inventions here that you can't sense when someone else has entered the same room as you," Blink smiled, putting her hands on her hips.

"What do you want?!" Forge said, his gun-hand on a hair trigger. "You've got five seconds before I start shooting."

"So, what are you working on here?" Blink asked. "Looks like some sort of futuristic car modification."

"Wrong answer," Forge growled, unleashing an electrical bolt at Blink—which she easily dodged, teleporting to another end of the room.

"You know who I am, Forge. You really think you're gonna hit me?"

"I can try," Forge said, transforming his normal hand into an identical gun and firing it at Blink, who teleported again to another part of the room. Forge and Blink repeated this several more times, until it became clear to Forge that Blink had made her point—he couldn't touch her.

"What. Do you WANT?" Forge said through gritted teeth.

"You, Forge," Blink smiled, teleporting right behind Forge and grasping him on the shoulders. "I want YOU. We're going on a little trip."

Before Forge could try to get her hands off of him, they were both gone in a BLINK!

"Interesting."

Destiny let out a bitter laugh. "Interesting? Not nearly as interesting as what's likely going to unfold over the next twenty-four hours. But go ahead, humor me. Consider it a last request."

"With your powers, we are sure you anticipated us coming," the Five-in-One said.

"Mmm-hmm."

"And yet you remain here, in your living room, simply sitting on your couch. You have made no attempt to flee."

"Did it ever occur to you that I can at least see far enough into the future to realize it's not worth it to flee? You'd find me no matter where I tried to hide," Destiny said. A sad look coming over her face, she leaned forward on her cane and muttered, "It's not like I have much left to live for, anyways. My daughter is gone, with the enemy, and she wants nothing to do with me… the organization I worked for is in shambles after Mystique's death…"

There was a moment of silence before the Five-in-One continued. "You sent a message to the X-Men."

"An e-mail, yes. Just a few hours ago, when I was certain on the timing. Hopefully their spam filters won't block it—I don't think they will, but little details like that I can sometimes be wrong about. A warning about what you're doing."

"…It is a surprisingly vague warning."

"I wish I could have helped more, but there's so many variables coming into play… too many possible outcomes. Some more important than others, but still."

"So. Humor us, then. Do we win or lose this upcoming battle?"

Destiny sighed. "How many times do I have to explain… I don't know. My powers don't work like that. I see the various pathways the future can take… and there are simply too many for me to be certain of almost anything."

"But what about the majority of the pathways you see?"

Destiny couldn't see, but she was absolutely certain that the Five-in-One were all smirking currently. "You know the answer to that. Apocalypse and his Horsemen win. Absolutely, completely, crushing everything in your path. There will be no real resistance left. The world will be yours with very close to a hundred percent certainty.

"But that isn't absolute. I… planted a seed in Rogue's head when my powers warned me of a vague danger coming. Told her she and the other Mutant she now carries in her mind were important, something that increases the odds in their favor ever-so-slightly… though they certainly face far steeper odds than ever before. I don't know if it'll make a difference. But it was worth a shot."

"Well, then… we suppose it's time to take you down before you can help then any more."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Destiny sighed, leaning back. "Go ahead. Shut down my mind, kill me. I'm ready."

"Now that," the Five-in-One smiled, "That was your true last request. Let us oblige you."

To be continued…
 

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