CHAPTER 85- THE STARFALL
Space burned with pursuit.
A small vessel, silver hull scarred with plasma wounds, wove through the void. Its engines flared blue, sputtering, desperate. Behind it came the predator a warship vast as a city block, armored in black and gold, bristling with weapons.
On its bridge, the captain stood tall, arms folded behind his back, his crested helm casting shadows across his face. His eyes locked on the fleeing ship.
"Report," he growled.
At the console, his aide's hands danced over alien keys. Symbols cascaded across the screen. His voice cracked as he read. "Captain... the small craft is heading for a system labeled Sol... the third planet... Earth."
The captain's jaw tightened. "Earth. Hnh. A primitive rock."
The aide scrolled further, stopped, and paled. His mandibles quivered as he shouted. "CAPTAIN! EARTH IS LISTED... AS THE WORLD THAT TURNED BACK GALACTUS. FOUR TIMES!"
Silence drowned the bridge. Every officer froze, their eyes snapping to their leader.
The captain's face hardened, pride draining to cold fear. "Retreat. Now. Full defensive posture. We do not provoke such a world."
The helmsman stammered. "But, Captain, the quarry-"
"RETREAT!" The order boomed, final. "Cloak the fleet. Hide in this system's shadow. We will not join Galactus among the defeated."
The warship shuddered, banking hard, engines roaring as it fell away from the chase.
But not before it struck.
"Fire," the captain hissed.
Missiles streaked through the void, trailing fire like comets. They slammed into the fleeing vessel. The small ship blossomed into flame, metal splitting, hull dissolving into stardust.
On the bridge, the aide exhaled. "Target destroyed."
The captain said nothing, his eyes fixed on the growing blue marble in the distance. Earth. A world now avoided like a plague.
Inside the doomed vessel, alarms screamed. Fire tore through the cabin. A single figure ran through the smoke, her cloak snapping behind her, her crown glinting in the firelight.
The princess.
Her hands flew over a console, activating a slim circlet device on her wrist. The chamber filled with light. Her body blurred, scattering into motes of gold.
She vanished.
Moments later, the wreckage of her ship burned out to silence. Nothing remained but debris and ash.
Far away, in a quiet house in GrenWich Village, reality rippled. A shimmer of golden light tore across the Grey family's living room, scattering books from a table, rattling the framed pictures on the wall.
When it cleared, the princess stood where there had been nothing, breathing hard, eyes wide, her cloak charred from battle.
Jean Grey's home had just gained an uninvited guest.
The Blackbird cut through the clouds like a wounded hawk, her hull still scorched from battle. Inside, the team stirred back to life.
Banshee rubbed at his temples. "Sweet saints... my head feels like the devil himself screamin' in it."
Colossus flexed his bruised arms, metal creaking. "He tossed me like a child's toy. Erik... Firelord... both of them..." His fists trembled. "It burns."
Logan lit a fresh cigar with shaking hands, the smoke hiding his shame. "Those two bastards -when I get another crack, I'm tearin' 'em both down to the bones. He blew a bitter cloud.
Cyclops leaned forward in his seat, visor burning with grim focus. "Enough. We can curse later. Think, people. Erik the Red's goal isn't us-it's Xavier. If he wanted us gone, Firelord would've finished the job. That was stalling. A distraction. Which means-"
*-the professor's in danger," Storm whispered, clutching her cloak tight.
Cyclops nodded once, "Exactly. We head to Greenwich. Jean's apartment. If Erik's making his move, It'll be there."
The team fell silent, battered but resolute. The Blackbird dipped lower, engines roaring toward the city.
Inside the Grey family apartment, warmth still lingered. Jean's parents laughed softly, relieved to have their daughter close again. Misty Knight leaned against the wall, arms folded, sharp eyes scanning the room.
Then the air ripped open. A shimmer of golden light tore the living room apart, rattling every picture frame, sending books toppling from shelves.
Jean's mother screamed. Her father staggered back.
A figure collapsed onto the carpet. A woman in a battered spacesuit, smoke rising from its scorched plates, cloak charred black. She lay gasping, one hand clawing at the helmet.
Charles Xavier wheeled forward, his face ashen. His hands trembled against the armrests. His voice was a whisper, then a cry.
"No... no... the nightmare made flesh... Lilandra..."
At the sound of her name, the woman twisted weakly, helmet clicking loose. A face was revealed-proud features lined with
exhaustion, eyes wide with desperation. Then her lids fluttered closed, and she fell into unconsciousness.
"JEAN!" Xavier's voice cracked the air. "Help her! Now!"
Jean dropped to her knees beside the stranger, her hands glowing faintly with Phoenix fire as she tried to steady her breathing.
Minutes stretched like hours. Then the woman stirred, lips moving, words spilling out in a language none of them knew-alien syllables sharp as knives.
"I don't understand..." Jean whispered.
Xavier's eyes hardened. He pressed two fingers to his temple. "No... but I can make her understand. His psychic power poured out, bridging minds, pulling her across the gulf of language.
She gasped, eyes focusing as if the room had suddenly come into shape.
And then-
The wall exploded inward. Fire and plaster blasted across the room.
Firelord stepped through the smoke, staff blazing, cosmic flame wreathing his form. His voice was thunder. "MY TARGETS ARE HERE. THE MUTANT LEADER. AND THE WOMAN WHO FLED THE STARS."
Jean rose, fire sparking around her. Her eyes blazed with power, her body humming with something vast and new. She stepped between Firelord and Xavier, between Firelord and Lilandra.
"You'll have to go through me," she said, voice resonant with cosmic fire. 'Because you won't find Xavier. You won't touch her. Not while PHOENIX IS HERE.'
Green flame burst across her form, gold flashing like a crown. Her costume flared into being - emerald and gold, wings of fire
unfurling. The living room drowned in light. The Phoenix had risen.