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#2 July 2006 |
MARVEL 2000
PRESENTS:
“What If...
The End of The Dark
Phoenix Saga Was a Facade?"
Part Two:
“Doing the crime,
paying the time.”
Written by Matt
Hrubey
Part Two:
“Doing the crime,
paying the time.”
Written by Matt
Hrubey
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The
Phoenix |
The Shiar Throneworld
“And then she killed Gladiator.”
Lilandra Nermani wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as she finished her story of the previous night. It had been a traumatizing experience, but she couldn’t let her subjects see her rattled. If the Shiar saw weakness, they would begin to have doubts in their monarchy. And seeing as how the Shiar Empire was, perhaps, the strongest power in the universe, civil unrest could not be allowed. There were too many enemies who would take advantage of such a situation.
Lilandra stood before her counsel of advisors, decked out in her full battle armor. She was leaning forward over the table, her eyes moving to and from each person in the assembly.
“Mistress,” Araki said.
Putting her hand up, Lilandra silenced her confidant. “I can sense your skepticism without words, Araki. But let me assure you, the Phoenix has returned. Who else have you ever seen that has the power to take on Gladiator? Prior to last night, he had crushed all other resistance beneath him. Besides, there were eyewitnesses.”
“What are we going to do, Empress?” asked the man immediately to Lilandra’s left. “We all know what the Phoenix is capable of. There’s no way that we can stand against it.”
Lilandra crossed her arms. “I do still hold out hope.”
“For what?”
“Before the Phoenix murdered Gladiator, I could swear I was speaking with the host form: Jean Grey of Earth.”
“We are aware of the Grey woman,” someone said.
Lilandra nodded. “Before Gladiator broke into my quarters, Jean was trying to apologize for her actions. She…and through her, the Phoenix…seemed to regret the things that they had done. Of course, I refused to believe her…them.”
“Do you truly think that the Devourer of Suns is capable of compassion?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Lilandra responded, taking a seat at the head of the table. “But all of us need to remember that before the Phoenix was corrupted by human emotion, it saved our empire from my brother, D’Ken. Without the Phoenix’s immense power, the Shiar would have been destroyed along with the rest of the universe.”
“So you’re saying we should disregard the fact that the Phoenix is back because of her past acts?” one of the advisors asked. He was shaking his head violently, angered that the conversation was even taking place. “Let’s not forget the fact that the Phoenix destroyed one of our cruisers and murdered Gladiator! Plus, the Phoenix was killed…before our eyes!”
“She will rise from the ashes,” Araki muttered under his breath.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t do anything,” Lilandra responded. “That’s why I’m standing before you today. You all are my most trusted advisors. I’m at a loss. Advise me!”
There was a silence that fell over the conference room. Lilandra looked to each of her advisors, their eyes downcast, before settling on Araki, who shrugged his shoulders at the indecision.
“Where is the Phoenix now?” one member of the faceless crowds asked.
Lilandra looked out toward the group, unable to differentiate who had spoken. “After Gladiator was killed, Jean Grey and the Phoenix disappeared. My guess is that if the Phoenix is trying to make amends, then it is still here…somewhere.”
“Then we have to find it,” an advisor said, standing up in place. “The Phoenix survived its execution the first time, but it must pay once more. If the Phoenix wants to rise from the ashes again, we’ll destroy it each and every time.”
There was an audible agreement.
Lilandra sat back in her chair and shook her head. It took all that she had to murder one of Charles’ students the first time. She silently wondered if she had what it took to do it again.
“Araki,” she muttered. “Assemble the Imperial Guard. We have a job to do.”
Storm watched the taxi carrying Scott Summers drive away from the mansion, possibly forever. He had been struck hard by Jean’s death and Ororo honestly doubted if he would come away unscathed. Ororo, even though she wished Scott would stay, knew leaving his best option.
There was a soft implosion of air and Ororo detected a faint trace of brimstone in the air. “Hello, Kurt,” she spoke.
“Scott is gone then?”
“He is.”
Kurt Wagner stepped to Storm’s side and caught sight of the taxi disappearing through the school’s front gates. He let out a pent up sigh. “I wish I had caught him before he left.”
“We’ll see him again soon,” Storm replied.
“You are so sure?”
“I am. Scott may be hurting right now, but he is X-Men through and through.”
Kurt shook his head. “I am a man of faith, Ororo, but even I have trouble believing that.”
Ororo Munroe seemed ready to speak once more. Though it didn’t seem like it, she was compassionate toward Scott’s tragedy. She had grown up in the harsh environment of the Sahara, a place where people turned to dust from dehydration. She had done what she could for her people with the powers at her disposal. She had been viewed as a goddess for her humanitarian efforts, but people had continued to die. She knew death well. She knew that she wasn’t a true goddess.
The telepathic cry from Xavier interrupted whatever Ororo was going to say.
X-Men!“What is it, Herr Professor?” Kurt asked.
The Hellfire Club, Xavier responded. They’ve made their next move.
“You killed us.”
WE ARE STILL LIVING.
“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”
Jean Grey sat back in the alley, hiding herself from view behind the Shiar equivalent of a dumpster. She was shivering at the cold but refused to cover up. Maybe she would kill herself before the Shiar did.
GLADIATOR WAS TRYING TO STOP US FROM ACHIEVING OUR GOAL.
“You killed him!”
I DID WHAT WAS NECESSARY.
“He is the head of the Shiar Imperial Guard. He was at the direct beck and call of the Empress. You think she’s going to let us go after you killed him in cold blood? For a cosmic entity, you’re rather naïve.”
I WILL FIX THIS.
“You will do no such thing,” Jean retorted. “You will give me back control of my body and you will leave this place forever.”
UNACCEPTABLE.
Jean let out a cry of frustration. She cried out both through her voice and her telepathy. For miles around, the Shiar woke to nosebleeds and piercing headaches. They felt the terror and agony that Jean Grey felt.
Her ‘voice’ spread out even further, breaking through orbit as she cried out one word:
“Scott!”
I’M SORRY FOR THIS, JEAN GREY.
“Then why won’t you leave?”
BECAUSE MY MISSION IS NOT COMPLETE.
“Your mission? You saved the Shiar Empire.”
YES…BUT I HAVEN’T YET SAVED YOU.
In the Xavier Mansion, every set of eyes was glued to the television in Charles Xavier’s office. The professor sat back in his wheelchair, his hands in his lap, while the events played out for millions of Americans to see. His face betrayed no emotion but he knew what Sebastian Shaw was planning. One of his X-Men was going to be ruined this day.
The cameraman was following Shaw through a set of doors into an expansive lobby. Xavier knew the place well.
“Is that where I think it is?” Peter Rasputin asked, spotting a familiar insignia on the lobby wall.
“Yes,” Charles responded. “Worthington Industries. He’s going to expose Warren.”
“How are you so sure, bub?” Logan asked. He was leaned forward in his chair, the brewsky in his hand all but forgotten. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“There’s no coincidence, Logan. I was afraid this might happen. Warren used his Hellfire connections to get you all into that party. Shaw has been humiliated and is looking for revenge. He suspects a relationship between Warren and the X-Men.”
Logan grunted. “Well, he’s going to leave happy.”
“This is hardly a laughing matter, Logan.”
He shrugged. “Who’s laughing, Chuck?”
On the television, the world watched as Sebastian Shaw spoke harshly to the people that worked the front desks of Worthington Industries. He demanded Warren’s appearance, as the CEO had to answer for his crimes. Shaw then faced the camera saying that he was going to let the world in on Warren’s biggest secret.
Charles turned from the scene and shook his head.
All his work was coming undone too fast for him to fix. And his students were going to pay the price.
Jean Grey didn’t know when, but she had drifted off to sleep in that alleyway on a world so far from her own. After the events of the day, she relished the chance to relax and recuperate. Her nerves were frayed and her head hurt, but that’s what happened when you shared your brain with a cosmic monstrosity that always believed its way was the right way. As Jean began to waken, a soft breeze overcame her body and she huddled against the sudden cold that threatened to invade her body.
That’s when she felt it…
It was that familiar feeling of someone watching her.
Jean shot upright, her head turning to look up and down the alleyway. There was no one there. She was alone.
But the feeling wouldn’t go away.
Monster…
Jean jumped to her feet, preparing herself. She felt like a sophomoric child for a moment. With the power that the Phoenix offered to her, Jean had became one of the most powerful—if not the most powerful—telepath in all of existence. And she had failed to realize that the presence she felt was psychic in nature. Someone was tracking her location.
Monster… You will pay for your travesties against my people…
There was the voice again! It was soft, almost a whisper. But Jean could detect the hatred that these words held. Returning to the Shiar Empire had been a mistake and now the entire race wanted her head. For a moment, Jean almost preferred her fantasy death on the Moon.
I know where you are… I’m coming for you!
It was Oracle of the Imperial Guard. Jean would have known the woman’s mental ‘fingerprint’ anywhere. It did make sense after all. She was the single most powerful telepath in all of the Shi'ar Empire and the only one with the ability and prowess to track one as powerful as the Phoenix.
And if Oracle was on her trail then it was a matter of time before the Imperial Guard attacked.
Jean sensed the attack a moment before it struck. The ball of flame cut a swatch through the darkness, making a beeline for the X-Man. Jean used her telekinesis to protect herself, establishing a shield between herself and her enemies. The Phoenix turned—
They were here. The Imperial Guard!
Starbolt floated at the forefront, having been responsible for the initial attack. The fire of his form lit up the alleyway like a firework. Behind him, half a dozen other Guardsmen sat in the sky, Oracle included. More were on the way.
I WILL HANDLE THIS.
“No,” Jean told the Phoenix. “You’ve done enough already. Give me your power and I will do what I can.”
ABSOLUTELY NOT.
And then Jean felt herself lose control once more. She screamed in frustration and anger but the Phoenix ignored her and turned toward the Guardsmen.
The battle had begun.
The doors to the elevator parted and Warren Worthington III stepped out into a melee of flashbulbs and shouting voices. The lobby of Worthington Industries was alive with reporters and camera crews. Hands were swinging in the air and the voices were getting progressively louder, each searching for dominance. And at the forefront of them all stood Sebastian Shaw, a smile upon his face. His arms were crossed across his chest as question upon question pervaded the air.
“—are you hiding from the public, Mr. Worthington—”
“—Worthington Industries going bankrupt?”
“—stepping down as CEO of—”
“Finally,” Shaw exclaimed. He moved to Warren’s side and extended his hand. “The prodigal son makes his appearance.”
“What do you want, Sebastian?” He accepted the handshake only because the cameras of all the major news companies were trained on his every movement.
“I figured it was time to clear the air. These people deserve the truth.”
Warren shook his head. “I don’t know what truth it is that you speak of, but I have nothing to hide from the public.”
Shaw cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He took a step toward Warren until he was whispering in Warren’s ear. “Do they know everything?”
Warren straightened up, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps it would be best if we spoke in private?” Shaw shrugged—
“Perhaps.”
He turned toward the sea of media and held up his hands. “If you give us a moment. We’ll return in just a few moments with an announcement that will be making front pages all across the continent.”
Then, two men stepped into the elevator. The doors closed, cutting off sight of the reporters. The fever died down immediately as Sebastian Shaw and Warren Worthington III began to rise through the interior of Worthington Industries.
The elevator opened once more upon the top floor of Worthington Industries. This floor allowed for Warren’s personal use, serving as both his office and penthouse apartment. It was lavishly decorated and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. The place reminded him greatly of the Hellfire Club headquarters on Fifth Avenue. Warren’s home featured furniture and art imported from the various ends of the globe.
“I can’t say I’m not surprised by this place, Warren,” Sebastian said. “It’s very impressive.”
“It’s not my doing. My father was a great lover of the arts. Everything you see was of his influence.” Warren turned a corner. “Come this way to my office. We’ll speak there.”
Once they were inside, Warren closed the door. He moved to his desk, staring out the large paneled windows that made up his walls. Manhattan was full of views. One thing that both Worthington’s agreed on was the fact that such views could not be blocked by concrete and insulation. Warren sat and crossed his legs.
“Obviously, you know.”
“That you’re a mutant? For some time now. Xavier should be careful of the information he puts into his computers.”
“You know of the school?”
Sebastian tilted his head back and let loose an evil laugh. “You X-Men are not the only ones with a telepath, you know.”
Warren saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye and turned. Strewn across his desk was a beautiful woman adorned in the smallest of corsets that he had ever seen. The white of her clothing matched the platinum blonde of her hair locks. “And I take it you’re the telepath? It would explain how you got in here without my notice.”
“In this you are correct, Worthington,” the woman said.
“This, Warren, is Emma Frost,” Sebastian replied. “She’s an associate of mine.”
Emma looked at Warren for a moment, studying his grim visage. “He wants to know how much we know about Xavier’s precious mutants, Sebastian.”
“I have known about Charles Xavier’s connection to the X-Men for some time now, thanks to Emma, of course. I know that his home, a school you say, also serves as a base of operations for the mutant heroes, of which you used to be a part.”
“You’re going to expose the X-Men?”
“Of course not. I have nothing to gain from such an action.” Shaw rose to his feet. “I’m planning on exposing you and you alone.”
Warren remained perfectly calm. “And what have I done to bring about such vengeance?”
“Don’t play dumb, Worthington,” Emma interrupted. “We know you got those X-Men into the party last week.”
“Emma, please.” Frost became silence underneath Shaw’s gaze. “At first, we viewed your betrayal of the club as a blessing. After all, you brought Jean Grey right to our doorstep. But then she betrayed the Inner Circle and everything went to hell. I was made a fool at the hands of your teammates. I hold you personally responsible.”
“This is all about hurt feelings?” Warren asked, leaning back in his chair. “How… elementary.”
He noticed a shared look between Shaw and Frost.
“What exactly are you going to tell the public? You have no proof of me being a mutant?”
Shaw shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. You misunderstand us. I am not going to say a word to the reporters. Neither is Ms. Frost. You are going to reveal that you are a mutant, Warren. Right now, in fact.”
Warren looked from Shaw to Frost, who had risen to her feet, a smile on her face. He slowly moved out from behind his desk and inched toward his door. Warren pointed to Emma. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She simply smiled.
And that’s when Warren Worthington the Third lost control.
“The Phoenix is weakened,” Oracle said, moving to the front of the assemblage of Guardsmen. “Let me handle this.”
She floated down to the ground, landing upon the dirty concrete. Her albino skin glistened in the moonlight.
“Who’re you calling weak?” the Phoenix asked. Her eyes glowed a faint orange and, for a moment, Oracle swore she saw flames in the woman’s eyes. “You’re better off turning around and heading home. I’m not in the mood for this.”
“You didn’t make it particularly difficult to find you. Your scream hit everyone in the city. I had a headache for an hour.”
“Would you like an apology?”
“You killed Gladiator.”
Phoenix snared. “He was in my way. Just as you are now.”
Oracle smiled—
And then the world fell away.
The lobby of Worthington Industries erupted when Warren Worthington the Third appeared from the elevator. Flashbulbs and voices broke through the calm that had settled over the area. But if Warren noticed any of this, he didn’t let on. He took a few steps forward, parting the crowd. The eruption of noise began to die down as the media realized that something was not right.
“Mr. Worthington?” someone asked to his immediate left. “Mr. Worthington, are you alright?”
And then he began to strip.
First it was the jacket. It fluttered to the floor as Warren started to unbutton his shirt. The reporters commenced shooting photos, hoping for a story great enough that their pictures would be on the front page of their respective newspapers. Warren shrugged off his dress shirt.
Screams broke out through the lobby.
Having been pressed against his back, the wings of the Angel spread forth, stretching to their maximum wingspan.
The noise in the lobby of Worthington Industries grew to a crescendo, becoming near deafening. Words slurred together into an inexhaustible clamor.
Warren’s vision blurred over. He shook his head and realization overtook him. What had he just done? Why in the world would he reveal to the world that he’s a mutant? That would destroy everything Worthington Industries had established since he took over control. He would fail his father’s legacy.
What could cause him to… Frost!
“Mutant!”
“Freak!”
“Genetic abomination!”
The racial slurs hit Warren like a brick. He had been forced into this situation and now there was no taking it back. He could just imagine Shaw and Frost upstairs laughing at his misfortune. They were responsible after all.
He had to get out of here.
Angel kicked off, his wings propelling him upward. The cameras followed him as he swept through the lobby, crashing through a window and flying up as fast as he could.
Life was over for the Angel.
He didn’t slow his flight until he reached Westchester.
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