CHAPTER 83 - THE SHADOW OVER GREY HOUSE
The Blackbird screamed through the night, engines pulsing like a heart under strain. Inside the cabin, silence weighed heavier than steel.
Logan broke it first.
"You call that a fight, Slim?" His voice was low, dangerous. 'We had him on the ropes. Another minute and I'd have carved that smug grin off his face."
Cyclops didn't turn from the cockpit. His hands clenched the controls, knuckles white through his gloves. "You'd have died. All of you would've died."
"Better that than running like whipped dogs," Logan snapped. His claws sild out with a slow, deliberate SNIKT, gleaming in the dim cabin light. "We're supposed to be protectors. And you left him gloating over us like he's king of the world."
Colossus shifted in his seat, still pale, still shaken. "Da, Logan is right. I felt... useless. Weak. I was his puppet.' His huge hands curled into fists. 'If we flee every time, we prove him right."
Cyclops spun In his chair, visor glowing hot. "LISTEN TO ME. This wasn't about pride. It wasn't about proving who's stronger. He wants Xavier. Every second we waste here, we risk losing him. We had no choice.
Logan leaned forward, close enough to feel the heat from Scott's visor. "You always got a choice, bub. You chose to run. And I don't follow cowards."
For a breath, the whole cabin held its air.
Banshee tensed, ready to pull them apart. Thunderbird's fists tightened, aching for a swing. Nightcrawler's tail lashed nervously against the seat. Storm just closed her eyes, her body still trembling from the memory of suffocation.
Cyclops' voice cut sharp. "Say It again. Call me a coward again, and you'll regret it."
Logan bared his teeth, claws glinting. "Gladly."
SNAP. The Blackbird lurched in turbulence, shaking them back into their seats. Engines roared, storm winds battering the wings. The fight froze there, hanging like lightning that hadn't struck yet.
Scott faced forward again, his voice a rasp. "Strap in. We'll reach Westchester in minutes."
Logan retracted his claws, the sound like grinding teeth. "This ain't over, Slim. Not by a long shot."
The scene shifted to a quiet house in
GreenWitch Village, where warmth glowed
in the windows. The Grey home.
Jean Grey hugged her mother at the door, tears and laughter mingling. 'Oh, Mom... it feels like years."
Her father shook hands firmly with Charles Xavier, who sat in his wheelchair, suit immaculate, smile gentle but tired. "Professor Xavier. You've given our Jean a purpose. For that, I thank you."
Xavier inclined his head. "Your daughter has given me purpose, Mr. Grey. More than she realizes."
From the hallway came the sound of quick steps and an eager laugh. Jean turned, her face lighting. "Misty! You made it!"
Her friend hurried in tall, graceful, skin deep
brown, eyes sharp with warmth. She caught Jean in a hug that nearly lifted her off the ground. "Of course I did. What kind of best friend would I be otherwise?"
Jean pulled her forward, smiling through tears. "Mom, Dad... this is Misty Knight. You've heard me talk about her a thousand times.
She's family to me."
Mrs. Grey smiled, embracing her. "Any friend of Jean's is welcome here."
The room buzzed with warmth - laughter, embraces, the smell of home-cooked dinner from the kitchen. For a moment, the world outside seemed distant. Jean's smile softened, her hand lingering on her mother's.
But Xavier's eyes lingered on the mirror across the hall. His own reflection stared back at him, and behind it he thought-just for an instant-he saw rippling shadows.
He blinked. The mirror showed only himself again. Still, his hand twitched against the armrest of his chair.
Far away, in a chamber humming with allen light, Erik the Red watched the Grey home
from a great viewing screen. His armor gleamed crimson, his eyes sharp with hunger.
He leaned forward, studying Jean's laughter, Xavier's calm presence, the easy warmth of the family. His voice rolled low and venomous.
"The time has come. Xavier's death is at
hand... and the princess..."
'The princess will be mine."
The screen bathed his mask in blood-red glow as he threw back his head and laughed, the sound like iron grinding against bone.