CHAPTER 65 SHADOWS OF THE PAST
The chamber still smoked from battle. Sparks fizzled across the shattered walls, Sentinel wreckage lay in heaps, and the air reeked of burnt metal and oil. The X-Men stood catching breath, claws still out, lightning still crackling at their fingertips.
And then the far doors hissed open.
Five figures stepped into the firelight.
Wings spread wide, white feathers brushing the walls. A massive blue-furred shape hunched low, muscles coiled like steel cable. Frost glittered on another's hands, vapor curling into the cold air. And at the center, two familiar silhouettes - Alex Summers, eyes already glowing, and Lorna Dane, magnetic force shimmering faintly around her.
Angel. Beast. Iceman. Havok. Polaris.
The old X-Men.
Storm's lips parted. "By the goddess..."
Scott staggered forward, visor glowing in disbelief. "Alex? Lorna? We LEFT YOU at the mansion... we had you under guard. How the hell are you standing here?"
No answer. Havok's plasma bands flared white-hot. Polaris lifted her hand, steel panels groaning under magnetic pull.
"Why?" Scott shouted, voice cracking. "WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING US?!"
Angel's wings snapped once, a burst of air driving ash across the room. Iceman raised a gleaming shard of ice in silence. Beast's lips peeled back in a wordless snarl.
And then they struck.
Plasma seared across the chamber, Cyclops barely rolling aside as the blast tore a hole in the wall. Magnetic waves ripped machinery free, hurling it like missiles. Ice spread underfoot, freezing steel to glass.
Colossus slammed into Beast, metal fists clashing against furry blue muscle, the two titans grappling, shaking the station with every blow. Thunderbird roared, leaping at Angel, wings slashing across his face as they tumbled in mid-air. Sunfire screamed
defiance, fire crashing against Iceman's cold, the corridor hissing with steam.
Scott staggered back, visor flaring. "Hold BACK! They're our FRIENDS!"
That hesitation poisoned every strike.
Nightcrawler bamfed behind Polaris, but his blade slowed, pulling his hand before it could cut deep. Storm's lightning faltered mid-bolt, searing the ground instead of her target. Even Logan slashed shallow, claws carving steel but stopping short of flesh.
The old X-Men pressed harder, relentless, silent. The new team gave ground. For every strike they landed, guilt shackled them, fear biting their hands.
Logan's lips curled into a snarl. He tasted the air, his nose twitching. He smelled the fight, the heat, the ozone - but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
No heartbeat. No sweat. No fear. No blood.
Nothing but cold.
He froze, his eyes narrowing to slits. 'These ain't the people I know. These ain't even PEOPLE.'
He leapt, claws flashing, ignoring Scott's shout behind him. He drove both hands straight into Beast's chest.
Metal shrieked. Sparks flew. Wires split like entrails.
The blue fur ripped away to reveal circuits, pistons, glowing cores. Beast staggered back, face twitching, half-jaw torn off to show cold steel beneath.
The chamber went silent. Every X-Man froze in horror.
Logan spat oil from his lips, his claws dripping with sparks. "These ain't our friends. They're MACHINES."