To soar through the air. To feel the sensation of the wind as it blows through each and every feather which composes your wings. To be able to fly higher than you had ever dreamed. To be able to glide and swoop and dive.

To be free.

It is a freedom that Warren Worthington the Third no longer has. He did once. He once had wings like those of an angel. And how he soared with them, how he loved them. Until the day he lost them. Until the day they were replaced with metal wings. Wings which took away that sensation of flying.

Then, they returned to him. And for a brief time, Warren was whole once more. But this, too, was not meant to last. For soon, his wings were transformed once more. Now, he has no true wings to speak of. He has wings, yes, but they are composed of light. And while they are powerful, while he can soar with them, he cannot feel anything from them. He feels no sensation from flying with those wings. They aren't truly a part of him. And, for Warren Worthington, that means he can never be truly whole. Can never be truly free.

"Mr. Worthington!"

"Hmm?" asked Warren. He turned away from the window to face the man speaking to him. "I'm sorry, I was... elsewhere."

"What I said was that the stock of Angel Inc. has been decreasing steadily for some time, now."

"What?" asked Warren. "Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"

"You would have been, had you answered your phone calls faster."

Warren had a feeling about this. It's something he had been considering for some time. Ever since the X-Men had moved back into the small, abandoned town in the Australian outback, he had been neglecting his company. He was focusing more on his duties with the X-Men. Everything just seemed to happen so fast down there, from Gene Nation to the Jigoku and, most recently, the Apocalypse Dawn. He didn't want to leave the X-Men, and he didn't want to sell off his company. Sadly though, he was beginning to realize that he would have to do something, otherwise the day would come when he would be crushed by the weight of both extremes.

And then there's Betsy... he thought. There was something odd going on with Elisabeth Braddock, the woman he was presently involved with. She had changed ever since her exposure to the Crimson Dawn a year ago. But now, she seemed to be going to far more extremes. Every day, he felt like he knew her less and less. He felt that they were growing apart, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about it, if he could do anything.

"And then there's the matter o—"

Before the man could finish his sentence, the glass window behind them shattered and an arrow flew right past Warren and struck the man directly in his neck. Warren turned in shock to see a man with reddish skin hovering near the window. His hair was long and black, and he wore crimson armor all over his body. He also held a large sword in his hand, and his eyes glowed bright-red. Warren noticed that there was a hole in his armor, but didn't know what it was from. Warren recognized that the man possessed a striking resemblence to Exodus, except it was almost as if he wasn't there.

"What the hell is going on?!" demanded Warren.

"I am called War," he replied. "By order of the High Lord, you are to come with me, traitor."

"I don't know if anyone filled you in, Exodus, but Apocalypse is dead," said Warren. With a thought, his skin began to turn light blue. His hair began to glow brightly, almost as if it were composed of light, and his eyes glowed with the same energy. Large wings, composed of the same energy, sprouted from his back and his fingers began to grow into claw-like talons.

"He only wanted you to think that," said War.

Archangel dove at the Horseman and forced him out through the window. He slashed at War with his talons. They caused no physical damage, yet War's pain centers flared up as they tore through his psyche. War pulled back the arm which held his broadsword and rammed it into Archangel's wing. Warren cried out in pain and pulled back. He examined his wing, which he always assumed was impervious to pain due to the fact that it was composed of energy. However, there seemed to be a hole of some sort in the wing, and sparks of light flew from it, almost as if it were blood.

Archangel readied himself for another pass at War, but found that his speed was considerably slowed due to the damage inflicted on his wing. War was able to easily move aside from the attack and slammed his sword into Archangel's other wing.

Despite this, Warren still found a way to stay aloft. He wasn't prepared to lose to Apocalypse's Horseman that easily, and flew up a bit more. His wings pulled back behind his body, and suddenly lurched forward. As they did so, dozens of photon fletchettes flew from the wings and tore through War's psyche. The damage was incredible, but War used his psionic abilities to block the pain from his mind. He pulled his sword back and Warren watched with shock as the sword began to transform before his eyes into a double-headed axe. War flung the axe forward with all his strength.

Archangel had no time to stop the weapon as it came flying towards him. The axe tore right through his body and then vanished. It appeared once more in War's hand. This time, Warren lost his concentration and his powers began to fizzle out as he plummetted towards the ground. He prepared himself for the inevitable and waited for his body to strike the concrete down below.

The concrete never came. Instead, Warren landed on something else. It was just as hard as the concrete, but it was nowhere near as far down. Warren slowly pulled himself up and found he was on a hovercraft of some sort. He looked over the edge and saw that the ground was a good ways away. He looked up and saw a man he had not seen in awhile piloting the vehicle. He had short, white hair and was dressed in military clothing. His right eye had scars around it and his left eye glowed with a bright energy. It also appeared as if he hadn't shaved in a few days, as there was stubble lining his face.

"You okay, Worthington?" he asked.

"C-Cable?" asked Warren. "What's going on?"

"Hold on, it looks like we've got company," replied Cable. He looked down at Warren. "Any chance you can pilot this thing?"

"Wait, what?" asked Warren.

Cable's eye glowed with a brighter intensity, and War suddenly stopped in midair. He was then sent flying several miles backward.

"Nevermind," said Cable. Warren saw him flip a switch of some sort on the control panel. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, he was suddenly somewhere else.

"What's going on?" asked Warren. He turned to Cable just in time to watch him vanish in a flash of light. Warren looked around and saw the large window. He walked over to it and for a moment, he thought he was possibly dreaming. He could see the planet Earth.

"I'm... in space?" he asked.

{{Quite right, Warren.}}

Warren turned to see the computerized face of Prosh on a screen.

"Ship?"

{{It's nice to see you again, too, Warren. But please, call me Prosh.}}

"Yeah, sure thing," said Warren.

{{Oh, and don't worry about the windows. That glass is just as sturdy as the material which makes up the rest of Greymalkin II.}}

"Right..." said Warren. He looked down to examine the wound inflicted by War's battle axe but found that there was nothing there.

"Hunh?"

{{War's weapons are all psionic in nature, Warren. It was intended to destroy the synapses in your brain.}}

"Then how come they're not destroyed?" asked Warren.