CHAPTER 64-THE CRASH AND THE REUNION
The Starcore station shook like a beast in its death throes. Sirens wailed, metal groaned, bulkheads split apart. Through the smoke and sparks, Sentinels poured in like ants from a hive.
Cyclops stood at the front, visor burning, his voice a blade cutting through the storm. "HOLD THE LINE! Cut them down before they regroup!"
A blast of ruby fire split a Sentinel's chest. Colossus followed, roaring, his steel fists shattering its head like glass. Nightcrawler bamfed into another's cockpit, claws tearing out wires, vanishing in smoke before its arms could clamp down. Sunfire's flames roared down the corridor, melting circuits, turning steel into slag. Thunderbird laughed, wild and furious, as he tackled one machine from behind, ripping its armored plating with his bare hands.
And then Storm came.
She strode into the corridor wreathed in lightning, eyes glowing white, her cape crackling like the wings of a goddess. A solar-fed gale howled in her wake. Her hand raised and a Sentinel exploded in light, its husk tumbling lifeless in the void beyond the torn walls.
The team pressed forward, carving their way into the belly of Starcore.
And then a sound cut through the chaos.
SNIKT.
Every X-Man froze. That sound was as familiar as thunder in the rain.
From the far side of the corridor, through the smoke, Logan emerged. His claws gleamed in the firelight, dripping with sparks and oil. Behind him staggered Jean, eyes blazing, her hair wild and tangled. Banshee limped in, still clutching Xavier across his shoulders like a wounded brother.
For a breath, silence.
Then Scott gasped. "Jean..." His voice cracked, breaking through the roar of battle.
Jean's lips parted. Her eyes met his. And then, like gravity itself snapped back into place, she was in his arms, tears spilling, his visor pressed against her brow.
Logan watched them, jaw tight, his claws sliding back into his hands. He turned away, his nose flaring, drinking in the reunion but not intruding.
Banshee half-smiled through his split lip. "Told you I wasn't done singin'."
Nightcrawler appeared at his side in a puff of smoke, steadying Xavier's limp form. "Mein Gott, we thought you dead."
"Almost was," Logan growled. "But these
bastards kept us alive. Experimentin'. Watchin'. Waiting." His eyes narrowed. "Lang's in here. Somewhere. And he's got more toys waitin'."
The floor trembled. Lights flickered.
And then, from the shadows at the far end of the chamber, figures emerged. Not Sentinels. Not machines.
Men. Armored. Human but wrong. Their eyes gleamed with fanatic fire, their bodies clad in suits traced with circuitry.
Stephen Lang's voice thundered through the station.
"Welcome, X-Men. You've come so far... only
to meet your end."
The team squared their shoulders, claws and
lightning and fire ready.
And the stars outside burned cold, watching.