Lightning continued to rain down on the thugs gathered by The Disciples of the Shadow. Their jeeps had been destroyed by Ororo’s bolts and they were relentlessly trying to remove her from the sky. They were having no success trying to fire directly into the vortex that the woman had created, but didn’t have time to think of another strategy. Too many bolts were dropping down from the sky for them to stop moving and talk.

Ororo saw the men scattering along the ground like rats and knew that her plan was going exactly as she hoped it would. Now all she had to do was make them exhaust their bullets and they would be wide open to attack. Mjnari was getting tired of being on the sidelines in this fight and asked, “Mom, are you able to maintain more than one electrical field at a time?”

“If you think you’re breaking away from me you already know my answer.”

Frustrated Mjnari sounded like a young child as he said, “C’mon, Mom. You gotta let me help here.”

“I have the situation completely under control,” Ororo firmly replied.

Suddenly, five shadow portals opened up throughout the vortex. With an almost inhuman quickness Storm rose up her hand and expanded the electrical field to block all five portals. Bullets rattled against the field for a few moments and then abruptly stopped. The portals expanded outward and Ororo was forced to expand her field outward. The process repeated itself until Mjnari felt the wind begin to die down. He knew what they were trying to do.

“Mom, you have to let me go! They’re trying to break your concentration,” Mjnari said.

Sweat began to trickle down Ororo’s forehead as she said, “Fine. Go, but be careful.”

Releasing her son from her grip Mjnari tumbled towards the ground, but before he made contact with it a gentle wind guided him to the ground. The young man then quickly took off in a flash as he snuck behind Zahul and stole his sword. The Disciples of the Shadow looked at the blur that was Mjnari, but were unable to react as he used the sword to cut down all of the thugs that had been sent to attack his mother.

Ororo watched in horror as her son slaughtered her attackers. What had driven Mjnari to such cold brutality? He was young and to be so unfeeling as he used that black sword. Still, she had to take advantage of this opportunity that he had given her. The Disciples of the Shadow were completely distracted by Mjnari’s slaughter. Dissipating the vortex Ororo reached out and surrounded the five Kenyans in one. They didn’t have time to muster up a portal to get away as all the air was pushed out of the top of the vortex. Oxygen was denied them until they had passed out in unconsciousness and then the vortex disappeared.

Landing on the ground Ororo looked to a bloodied Mjnari and said, “If that was the help you intended to offer I should have kept you in the vortex.”

“They were trying to murder you. Death was the least they deserved. Point blank.”

Ororo folded her arms across her chest and sent a chill over Mjnari. “Go home and wash up. Don’t let your mother see you.”

Mjnari was angry at the condescending talk from Ororo. “And where are you going?”

“To Nairobi. I need to settle some old business.”

Ororo poked her head around the alleyway corner and saw the hustle and bustle of the bazaar. Another day. Another item taken. Achmed had taught her to look for opportunities. She could see them everywhere. The old woman who let her purse hang a little too loosely from her shoulder. The tourist with the obvious bulge in the back of his pants. The little boy who was holding his mother’s fruit. All easy pickings, but from the dumb stare Adama was giving her, he didn’t see a single one of them.

“Do you see anything out there?” Ororo asked.

Adama nodded. “A bunch of dirty people with nothing to take.”

She smacked the boy on the head. “You can’t be that naïve. There’s a ton of stuff out here to be taken. Look, Farouk wanted me to show you the ropes so pay attention.”

Ororo explained to him how you had to be gentle with all your movements and only run when you were found out. She taught him that you never made a steal right away. You walked around and appeared to just be a nosy little kid and then you struck. It was on a wing and a prayer that she hoped her advice was getting to the boy.

“You think you’re ready?” Ororo asked.

Adama’s lips twisted to the side as he thought about his answer and then he said, “Lets do this.”

Looking down at his hand Adama thought about the debt that he had once owed on it. Thankfully, an unfortunate death had erased that said debt and allowed Rulke to invest in the classy mansion he had built in the heart of urban Nairobi. It was one of the few crowning jewels of Africa and not a single law enforcement agent dared to invade it. Unlike the West, it was extremely easy to twist and manipulate things to your favor with the right amount of money. Of course after the destruction of the Bio-Genes in Somalia he had to be careful. At any moment some self-righteous group of heroes could come knocking on his door.

It was for that reason that he had nearly left Ororo alone entirely, but his heart wouldn’t let him. That woman had grievance him in a way that he would never forget as long as he lived. Looking down at his hand reminded him of that everyday. Besides, the shadow demanded that he attack her and the shadow was not to be disobeyed. If not for the shadow he would still only be in control of Nairobi and not all of Kenya. The power had allowed him to spread his influence faster than he could have ever dreamed.

Hopefully, it was all over with and his Disciples had rid him of Ororo Munroe. Her past had finally caught up to her and she could no longer play the hero, though he would have to prepare for the eventuality of facing her compatriots in the X-Men if she was indeed dead. They would not allow one of their own to fall so easily. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to tap into some of his Swiss bank accounts in order to hire the necessary mercenaries to combat the mutants.

Waiting to find out the conclusion of his assault was agonizing. For all he knew his soldiers could well be dead and Ororo coming there for his head. Was Ororo a killer though? Maybe back when they were children he would have considered that fact. Now though things were different. The shadow had done much to inform him of Ororo’s current history amongst the X-Men. She was anything but a cold-blooded killer. Unless of course some of the villagers had been harmed, but Adama gave strict instructions to not let any harm befall the villagers. His quarrel was with Ororo and not with a band of subsistence living people.

Five portals of shadow opened to the left of Adama and he smiled at the sight of them. His soldiers had succeeded in eliminating Storm. That smile quickly became an aggravated frown as the battered and bruised men came through the portals Venomously, he eyed the five men and said, “She’s still alive isn’t she?”

“She surprised us sir,” Ngozi explained weakly.

Adama stomped forward and delivered a swift slap across Ngozi’s face. “One woman! Five men! She should not be alive. Now she will come for her vengeance against me.”

“She would be a fool to come here, sir,” Menachem said. He was the most embarrassed of the Disciples at their defeat by Storm. Adama had every right to be furious.

Rulke moved in front of Menachem and pressed a thin finger into his chest. “You know nothing of Ororo and her mutant friends! They defy the impossible, time and time again. I doubt she has any fear of my home.”

“Then let us kill her when she finally drops in. She won’t be expecting us to bounce back so quickly from our wounds,” Zahul said with false eagerness. All he really wanted to do was take a very long nap. Getting in another fight was not in his list of priorities.

Shaking his head in disapproval Adama said, “No, it was wrong of me to send the five of you in the first place. This quarrel is between her and me. When she comes it will be between the two of us.”

“Sir? Do you really think that wise?” Ngozi asked. The slap may have still stung, but he owed a great deal to Rulke. All of The Disciples of the Shadow did, because there wasn’t a single one of them that hadn’t come from the hopeless ghettos of Nairobi. Adama gave them strength and purpose. Ngozi didn’t feel the least bit comfortable leaving him to face Storm alone. He had seen her at work and there was a strong possibility that she might kill Adama.

Rulke saw his soldier’s tense expression and was genuinely touched by it. He placed a hand on Ngozi’s shoulder and said, “Forgive me for slapping you earlier. My anger got the better of me. Do not fear for me though. My opponent is not so bloodthirsty.”

“But she is powerful, sir, and may cause you grievous harm,” Ngozi replied hoping to push some sense of reason onto Adama. He was trying to be brave when he didn’t have to be. There were many who would fight for Adama. Loyalty was something Adama valued and even in his anger he was still loyal with his soldiers. The Disciples of the Shadow loved Adama like a father, but right now they were angry children. Ngozi was much like the oldest child who took things the most maturely.

Adama stared down at his hand once more and sighed, “There is not much else she can do to me Ngozi. Besides, it is time I confront her. I’ve been avoiding it too long.”

It was with that the Disciples left the room and Adama waited. An hour passed before a chilled air flooded his room as he sat atop his bed. Despite the sudden rush, eh was still able to hear her perfectly sequenced footsteps. She was far more gracefully now than she had ever been as a child. They probably had far more in common now than they ever had in the days of their youth. Unfortunate circumstances skewed by desperate opportunities had made them into rivals. Adama took a heavy breath at that thought when his bedroom doors finally creaked open and in stepped the goddess. Rulke had expected her to be hauntingly stunning and he was not in the least disappointed.

Storm eyed Adama with intense suspicion. “It has been some time since our paths have crossed, Adama.”

Holding up his black cybernetic hand, he smiled. “But that time is never forgotten. By me at least. You on the other hand, went off and started saving the world.”

Finding the strength to dispute his argument wasn’t in Ororo. “That is no excuse to go after those I love!”

“Since you’ve been here not a single person you care about has been targeted by me! Mjnari threw himself in my way. You and your demise was my only concern.”

Ororo was simultaneously angered and comforted. “We were children Adama. Did you not think I wanted to help?”

The two thieves had decided what their bounties would be. Ororo was to take a young man’s wallet and Adama the necklace dangling from a fat man’s pocket. Having done this enough times, Ororo moved through the crowd invisibly. Adama was having a problem with that particular task. Being lanky and slightly clumsy he kept bumping into the market shoppers. Heat and flies made for a great deal of annoyance, which was unloaded on an already nervous Adama. He looked to Ororo for guidance, but she had melded in far too well. After a few unpleasant pushes, Adama was in sight of the glittering necklace.

The man was examining a melon with great interest as Adama eased towards him according to the rules laid down by his Ororo. “This is quite the fine piece of fruit my friend. My uncle use to plant the best melons.”

Casual disbelief was the merchant’s immediate reaction to the man’s boasting. “So why don’t you buy one of his melons?”

He was almost there. Victory was only a few feet away from him. The necklace was a beacon under the sun and Adama found himself actually wanting the jewel. That realization shocked Adama. Maybe he was more like Ororo than he actually cared to admit. If he just got the job over he wouldn’t have to think about that.

That rush to finish made Rulke move faster than he should have and as he reached for the jewel the disbelieving merchant noticed his effort. “Thief!”

There wasn’t enough time to recoil as Adama’s shirt was gripped by the fat man’s enraged hand and he was lifted off of his feet. With spittle flying in every direction he yelled. “Whelp! You thought to steal from me!”

In utter desperation Adama cried out. “Ororo! Ororo help! Help!”

“No one comes for you wretch,” the merchant said as he pulled a sword out from under his stack of melons. It was an odd place to hide a weapon, but that was precisely the point. Fools like this young boy never expected him to so readily have a weapon. Taking a cloth the merchant wiped away any unwanted material off the sword. Now it was time for justice.

Adama struggled hopelessly against the fat man as he laid unto the ground like a tattered rag doll. The merchant took hold of his arms and stretched it out. A crowd began to gather around the merciless men and hidden in this convergance was Ororo with her bounty made. She looked on with absolute horror as tears ran down the face of Adama.

“Please,” Adama begged. “I won’t do it again! Someone help!”

Ororo wanted to aid him, but her body just wouldn’t move. The mind gave a weak yes and the body a resounding no. Adama was to be left to his own fate and she would have to return to Farouk without his newest pupil. At least she would be returning.

“Help,” the boy whimpered as the sword was lifted into the air. It destination was clear; where the arm met the hand.

“I was only a child. It wanted to help you, but I was frozen with fear,” Storm said to a stone-faced Adama.

“Fear of suffering the same fate. That I can understand but what about later? When the crowd went away and I was tossed in some alley to bleed to death. You could have found your way to me then, but did you? No, because like a cowards you ran back to Farouk.”

Seeing an ivory chair not far from Adama’s bed, Storm asked, “May I have a seat? Heels are not the best for standing.”

Motioning a hand to the seat Adama nodded. “I don’t see why not. You haven’t electrocuted me yet so the least I can do is be courteous.”

Storm moved with a casual pace to the chair and after sitting she crossed her legs together. She sat with a perfectly straight posture that would normally only come from years of “royal” training. “So how did you survive?”

Adama kept a cold gaze and didn’t speak. Finally, seeing that Ororo would not budge under his stare he said, “I am not entirely sure till this day. I blacked out in the alley and the next moment I am in my Uncle’s home. He took pity on me and nursed me back to health. Then we moved to Kenya. Funny, how so many common roads our lives have taken.”

“Was it your uncle who found you the new hand?”

“No,” Adama laughed. “That would have made things easier. After my uncle died I inherited his fortune and commissioned Donald Pierce to construct my new hand.”

Storm’s face contorted into anger and Rulke could barely hide his delight. “I take it that you recognize the name. You must really let me thank your friend, Logan. His killing of Pierce absolved me of all debts I owed to that leech. Are all X-Men so bloodthirsty?”

Lightning crackled at the corner of Storm’s eyes. “Depends on who you ask. Mutants have always been thought of as many things. Bloodthirsty is probably one of the more flattering comments.”

“Oh believe me, I know. My Uncle had a heart attack after he found out I was one. Unlike you I didn’t have an Xavier to come scoop me up and shelter me from the world.”

Xavier had saved Ororo from a great deal of hardship. Even thought she was being worshipped as a goddess it wouldn’t have been long before someone came along to exploit her abilities. There was no telling what she might have become if not for him.

“Nonetheless you didn’t have to turn to this life. Would this make your Uncle proud? You seemed to detest Farouk as a child. Ironic that you remind me so much of him.”

“I would love to know what you told that bastard.”

Ororo threw herself into the belly of Farouk and cried, “They took him! They took him!”

Farouk ran his hand through Ororo’s hair and with a voice too tender for a man his size he said, “I know child, but you must not blame yourself. Little Addie was careless and did not listen to you my sweet Ororo. You did the right thing by leaving him. Fate would not have been kind to you otherwise.”

“But he was bleeding so much! They didn’t even care!”

“They do not care about people like us I’m afraid. That is why we must always promise to remain true to each other. There is no other way for us to survive,” Farouk preached as he tried to lick his large digits clean of chicken grease. Fortunately, young Ororo did not notice the hanging bit of chicken in her hair. He ran his hand through her hair to snag the piece and Amahl quickly devoured it.

“Those people who hurt Adama should get hurt too!”

Amahl smiled because at long last he was making progress. He knew it would enrage Ororo to see the death of that pathetic waste of space. Farouk could use this opportunity to squeeze out whatever humanity Ororo had left in her. She would be without any spark of care for human life.

“Those villains will pay. I promise. None can escape my wrath once I set my sights upon them. Now promise me that you won’t ever be that careless.”

Ororo looked up to Farouk with a tear-stained face. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Sad to think of how many other kids that fat slob probably messed with,” Adama fumed, angry at being cast aside without a care. He had come a long way since his days of self-loathing and self-inflicted torment. If only he could have been the one to finish off Farouk, if the rumors were indeed true. As much as he blamed Ororo, the Shadow King had just as much blame for his condition. Unfortunately, he was dead. Of course, it wasn’t too long ago when Storm was believed deceased herself.

“Farouk was a master manipulator and if not for Xavier I very well might be in his seat of power in Cairo,” Storm said dreading that possibility. “If you hated me for so long why did you choose now to strike?”

“A variety of reasons come to mind. One, this is my territory you’re in. Two, you’re no longer with the X-Men so that saves me a potential headache. Three, cowards should not eat at the table of warriors,” Adama answered.

Rising to her feet Ororo pointed a delicate, yet powerful finger at Rulke. “Don’t question my bravery again! I have fought as an X-Man for years against threats the likes of which you can’t imagine!”

Putting a hand to his heart Rulke said, “My heart skipped a beat!”

“Your jokes will be the end of this conversation before long,” Storm warned. “How do you know so much about my life?”

With icy seriousness he replied, “The shadows tell me all I need to know.”

“Then you should tell them that I do not take threats to my life kindly.”

“I do not speak to the shadow. Strictly against the rules, but I’d be happy to sent you there if you would like. Be warned, it is a place very few return from.”

All Rulke’s talk of shadows made Ororo think of Farouk far too much and maybe the connection was completely innocent, but it deserved to be looked into. “I have no desire to speak directly to these shadows, but I do have an offer for you.”

“I am listening.”

Storm put on the same tone she use to give Kitty Pryde in her younger days. “I have harmed you and for that I am sorry. So to settle that debt I will spar e you today, but in turn I would also ask that your services be available to me if I need them.”

Rulke leaped off his bed, flung his arms upward and scowled at Ororo like a maddened wolf. “You arrogant bitch! You haven’t changed! Still the –

Adama’s eyes flashed black and his verbal barrage ceased. “Fine, I agree to your bargain.

ust make sure that your son stays out of my affairs.”

“I am not his master.”

“Then I cannot promise his safety.”

Grimacing she said, “I will see what I can do.

”Rulke slyly smiled. “I am sure you will.”

Storm made her way down the dimly lit stairway with her thoughts still on Kenya. She had intended to relax that, but instead found herself burdened. There was the hardening of Mjnari’s heart, what she had done to Adama, and how she had failed those Morlocks in her village. Then there was the eerie nature of Adama’s abilities. What shadows did he speak to? Was he simply insane?

“No he is not,” Ozymandias answered as Storm walked off the last step and into his abode. It didn’t seem like much, but it had been a seat of Celestial technology for millennia. Once it had belonged to the extreme Darwinist known as Apocalypse, but his death had left it abandoned.

“Is telepathy among your abilities?” Ororo asked half-joking and half-serious.

Ozymandias turned to Ororo and shook his head, “No. Just saw you asking yourself that question before you asked it. Near future clairvoyance can easily come across as telepathy, but there is a difference. I cannot control your thoughts.”

“I am fortunate for that,” Ororo sighed as she began to pace around the room. “I had hoped my trip to Kenya would be uplifting, but now I am more confused than ever. Will Adama hold up his end of the bargain?”

“Yes, and he will be of great value to you in the future,” the stone prophet said as he took seat in front of a display of hundreds of screens showing news stations across the globe.

Walking up behind him Storm asked, “What would this be for?”

“I cannot see everything at once. I have to focus on what I wish to see. These various programs allow me to zero in on any potential disaster areas. It helps to make our work more efficient. Though there is much in this underground chamber to help us do that,” Ozymandias explained.

Knowing that she was eventually going to ask it, Ororo cut to the chase and said, “What is my child’s fate?”

Ozymandias swiveled in his chair and rose to his feet. He placed a hand on Ororo’s shoulder and said, “I would not tell you this, but I know you will not rest until I do. Mjnari has a dark road ahead of him. His time spent under mind control affected him gravely I’m afraid.”

“Do not speak in generalities, Ozymandias. Tell me what awaits him,” Ororo persisted knowing that each of his words felt like a knife cutting into her heart, but at least now she knew. Now she could do something about it.

“He will grow in skill and in power to become the Magneto of his generation,” Ozymandias answered.

That revelation was more horrifying than finding out Apocalypse saw something of himself in her. She wanted to fly back to Kenya with all the speed she could muster and lock Mjnari away from the damning world. Whoever had harmed her child would one day pay. She would personally see to that, but now wasn’t the time. Not yet. Too much was going on around her.

“Be at rest, Storm. Our work is soon to begin and I will need to return to America in a few days. Your son’s fate is not sealed and rest assured we will save him from it,” Ozymandias promised knowing that he was not giving Ororo all the information she needed to know.

Storm began to walk away from the former warlord and stopped at the stairwell. She didn’t turn back to look at Ozymandias and said with a hung head. “I think I will go to Akabba and mingle with the locals for a bit. My mind needs to be distracted.”

When she was out of sight Ozymandias sat back in his chair and turned back to his screens. The news station in India was having a debate on whether their country was right in taking cheap oil from Genosha. A silhouette of Magneto was in the background of the debating reporters. One day that silhouette would be of Mjnari and there was one single event that would be pivotal to his rise for power. The slaying of the woman he called mother.

The night had come and Adama had happily awaited its arrival. He was out on his balcony and looking up at the stars trying to dissipate his confusion. Why had the shadow asked him to spare Ororo? Why did it make him agree to her ridiculous terms?

Because as it stands now she is important to our future plans.

Adama looked behind him to see a hulking mass rising from the shadows. It grew to be a seven-foot tall monster bursting with muscles, having no visible mouth, and spiky hair that blended in flawlessly with its skin. Red pants that were tattered on all ends appeared and were tied to the monster’s body with a golden rope. White, pupiless eyes stared down Rulke.

“How can Ororo possibly be important to our plans, Kuragari?” Adama asked.

Our master knows what he is doing. I would suggest not questioning him.

“You act as if you never questioned him yourself. If I remember correctly your reluctance to give me and my Disciples shadow abilities was great,” Rulke reminded with a smug smile.

Considering their performance against Ororo it seems my concern was well founded.

Adama concealed the anger bubbling up within him. “Every system has its flukes.”

The master seems to see things your way as he is still keeping you alive. Hopefully that will change soon.

“I have confidence in him. If he wants me to help Ororo then so be it, but I have to wonder why the interest in her?”

A great rumbling went throughout the bedroom and a black cloud suddenly blanketed Adama’s balcony. The crackling of lightning could be heard in the cloud and Rulke began to back away from it until he was standing next to Kuragari. Even the former keeper of the Crimson Dawn seemed to be in awe of the sudden occurrence.

QUESTION ME NO LONGER. I AM GLAD TO SEE YOU HAVE GROWN INTO QUITE THE MAN, LITTLE ADDIE.

NEXT ISSUE: Storm goes to Nature’s Gift and adds some new recruits to the cause.