Brooklyn.

Hugh Japheth lost the ability of taste the moment his digestive system became two mutant slugs. Affectionately named Eany and Meany, the slugs are autonomous, yet they still have a connection with their template, the X-Corp board member known as Maggott.

As of late, Eany and Meany have been going through a growth spurt, needing more and more matter to ingest. In some ways, it's good for Maggott; he's stronger than ever before. And yet, it's his greatest nightmare. Not too long ago, his powers evolved even further and gained the ability to discharge multiple miniature versions of his trademark slugs. Maggott didn't know it at the time, but his evolved power was a means to birth hundreds of slugs...all of which have grown to full size.

Maggott sat in a recliner in the center of his studio apartment in New York, surrounded by his gluttonous pets. Eany and Meany sit on top of his shoulders. They are distinctive by the fact they have three red eyes. These new offspring have two red eyes each.

His teammates don't know about the other slugs, they never did. Maggott has crafted a persona and lifestyle to alienate himself...and with good purpose. With over a hundred creatures with the ability to devour matter at great speeds only partially under his control is dangerous. Being Maggott's friend is dangerous.

He knows it, too. The real Maggott may never see the light of day. It's hidden by a vain and wicked man. In reality...he's utterly lonely, but ultimately a nice guy.

A knock at the door startles the slugs, who all began to slither and produce a chilling sound akin to a buzzsaw.

"Quiet," Maggott said. And suddenly, like soldiers obeying their general, they stopped. He walked up to the door as Eany and Meany jumped off of his shoulders and landed on the floor. Maggott opened the door just a crack, "Hello?"

A man wearing a brown shirt and shorts of the same color with a hat reading "UPS" stood in the hallway with three large cages, with three black-haired Great Danes inside of them, "Are you Hugh Japheth?"

"Yeah, that's me," Maggott said as he took the clipboard from the delivery guy and signed at the bottom.

"Well, of course you are, man!" the guy said. "You're Maggott, after all, dude. Can I get your autograph?"

Maggott just glared at him, "I just gave it to you."

"No, I mean for me. I'll pay you, whatever you want, man!" the guy zealously exclaimed.

"Just give me the dogs," Maggott said.

"But...you want a dolly to wheel them in there?" the guy asked as he tried to look inside the apartment, but Maggott's 6' 8" exterior blocked the view.

"I'm strong, I'll lift them in," Maggott said.

"Heh, dur. I forgot you're a mutant...oh, sorry, I didn't mean that in a derogatory way man, you're awesome!" the guy shouted.

Maggott sighed as the shrilling of his slugs began to echo in his mind, "Just leave, please."

"How many dogs you got in there, now?" the guy asked. "Must be like...fifty, man. You must be a dog person."

"GET OUTTA HERE!" Maggott shouted. His form bulked up and his skin changed dark blue. The delivery guy said no more and ran away.

Maggott stacked the three cages on top of each other, which caused the Great Danes to start barking. He pushed them and slid them inside of his apartment and quickly closed the door. He leaned against the wall and lowered himself to sit down and shut his eyes tightly. He didn't like to watch...not lately.

The barking was quickly replaced with high pitched yelps and the twang of metal being cut by thousands of sharp teeth. In ten seconds, it was over. The first time was thirty-five seconds.

Maggott's eyes glowed red as he opened them. Through his slugs, he could see the studio apartment just as it was with a crimson tint. The metal cages and the three dogs were gone. No blood. No gore.

Just a swarm of maggots.

He really was a nice guy, underneath it all.

After stopping the threat of a giant animated sex toy in Manhattan just weeks ago, the team of openly affirmed mutants known as X-Corp has been thrust into super stardom. The seven mutants, who run their own business, also protect the world against hostile threats by other disgruntled mutants or otherwise...

Greece, the Aegean coast.

Pyro stood in the Orthodox cemetery dressed in black. His leather floorduster reflected the orange sunlight as "Hellios carried it across the sky." Before him was a grave with the name Dominic Szilard Petros chiseled into it. Only recently, did the US Government agree to allow Avalanche to be buried with the rest of his family.

Pyro sighed as he lit a cigarette, "I don't even know why I'm here..."

He looked off into the ocean as the setting sun created a dancing flame in the water.

"It just seemed like I was closer to takin' the bloody six feet under dirtnap than you were," Pyro chuckled. "Plus, you sorta stabbed me in the back when you sided with that fuckhead, McCoy."

John reached inside his coat and pulled out a can of Foster's beer. He popped the top and spilled some at the foot of his friend's grave, "Death heals all rifts between people, eh?"

Suddenly, there were a few magnesium flashes of cameras that shed an unnecessary light upon the hungover Pyro. A few zealous fans and media hounds were seen running up the path of the cemetery.

"You've gotta be shittin' me," Pyro muttered.

Wedding bells are going to be heard in the future. No, we're not talking about the on-again, off-again J-Fleck and Bennifer wedding, but the upcoming nuptials between X-Corp members Archangel and Psylocke, otherwise known as Warren Worthington and Betsy Braddock! No word on the date or location of what appears to be the mutant wedding of the century!

X-Corp Offices.

"Mr. Worthington, please, I need that raise!" a twenty-something department manager pleaded. He was artificially tanned beyond the tolerable amount a Caucasian male should...and his hair was gelled to a sharper edge than Archangel's intense stare. His outfit was louder than most gay men's wardrobes.

Archangel simply twirled a pen in his fingers, "But you laid off ten people, Bill."

"I'm within parameters to do that, sir," Bill responded.

"They were working for me longer than you have...and I personally liked their work," Archangel said.

"Just because they designed your space age jet?" Bill exclaimed. "What the hell? I helped to design the dome which is going to make your Danger Room training facility operational on top of a skyscraper!"

"If I give you any more money, Bill, you'll be making more money than my board members," Archangel said. "Unless you have some genetic hidden talent and want to go globetrotting to help mutants, that can't happen."

"Two of them are taking an extended vacation!" Bill exclaimed. "How reliable are they, anyway?"

"I don't personally favor Pyro or Maggott, but they do their jobs with efficiency!" Archangel shouted as he slammed his fists on top of his desk. He pointed at Bill, "You go back to the design division and oversee it like I pay you to...or else I'll replace you."

"Pft. Yeah? Who?!" Bill asked.

Archangel sat back in his chair, "Who do you want me to call first? Forge? Hank McCoy? Kate Pryde?"

"Oh, right, get your friends in high places to do the job for you!" Bill shouted as he stormed out of the office. He stopped and turned, "You know...just because your group of X-Men is on top now doesn't make you the hottest thing since television."

With that, he slammed the door.

Archangel slumped in his chair and sighed. Bill was right. Warren's former friends, save for the original X-Men, were rather cold towards him right now. Maybe it was because X-Corp wasn't available to help in the fight against the Sons of Set, more specifically Tayln. Regretably, they had a photoshoot for Gene Magazine, the new monthly focusing on the mutant phenomena. It was a tough situation, but in a way it had to be done. X-Corp's mission statement was different for the them than past incarnations of the X-Men.

Warren chose to not involve his board with stopping the Dawn and Hydra forces, either. It wasn't that he didn't want to involve them, he commanded them to protect the buisness, as that was top priority. X-Corp is a group of heroes, but they're a board of directors to the company first; it's their job.

Of course, that begs the question...just because the change in direction is novel and revolutionary, does it make it right?

Did X-Corp harbor a known killer in their ranks? Find out tonight as we lead an in-depth investigation into the mysterious lives of the seven most popular mutants in America.

Cerebro.

Psylocke sat in the chamber and located the proper frequencies. She breathed in slowly and began to download memories from a man named Stick. Fighting instructions and techniques were copied and placed into Psylocke's mind. Betsy trembled as she removed the telepathy-enhancing helmet, which the Cerebro system was famous for, at least to those who were close with the late Charles Xavier.

While in Warp Savant's pocket dimension, Psylocke was able to use her telepathy in conjunction with the reality warping aspects of the alternate dimension to turn herself back into her former glory as a highly trained ninja. However, she soon realized her skill and timing were still off in this reality.

Psylocke jumped with a start when she saw Xorn at the doorway.

"Xorn...?" Betsy asked.

"I do not understand why you steal, Elisabeth," Xorn said with hurt in his voice.

"What? Why do you think I'm stealing?" Psylocke asked.

"There is no threat the board has been called in to handle," Xorn said. "I can see phenomena such as mental telepathy most others ignore. Why do you use this machine for your own means?"

Psylocke frowned, "I know it's wrong...I'm only trying to better myself. My fighting ability is a little off. I was trained in many forms of martial arts, especially in ninjitsu, by the Hand. I'm trying to get to that level again...but I'm having trouble locating surviving members of the clan. They've been quiet of late."

"And yet, self-actualization does not come to those who steal," Xorn said.

"I strive for perfection so I can help others...," Psylocke said as she rose from the built-in chair.

"Do you?" Xorn asked. "I've noticed your personality prior to our encounter with Mr. Savant. You were less than considerate to many of us."

Psylocke shook her head, "I know...I'm well aware I seemed like I was on a constant PMS buzz, but the fact is I was frustrated with myself. I can't seem to get past the fact that...Revanche was better at being me than I was."

"Sorry...I haven't completed my research on our allies and enemies. I'm only up to the O through P's," Xorn sheepishly revealed.

Psylocke playfully rolled her eyes, "It's a really long story."

"I'll just read the file summary, then," Xorn said. He shifted his posture and leaned against the door frame, "I might know someone who could retrain you properly."

"Really?" Psylocke asked flirtatiously.

"But, you have to promise me you'll only use Cerebro for work-related use," Xorn warned.

"Absolutely," Psylocke said as she clicked her heels together and saluted. "So, who's this grand master you know?"

Xorn titled his head, "Me."

"You?" Psylocke chuckled. "But I haven't seen you fight hand-to-hand before."

Xorn crossed his arms, "Well...I never had to. I choose not to fight, anyway. I simply enjoy the knowledge."

"Is there anything you don't know?" Psylocke joked as she and Xorn walked out of Cerebro.

"Aside from whoever I never met who falls between letters Q through Z?" Xorn asked. Psylocke nodded and he continued, "Well...women and reality television. Not to mention the profile of Roseanne's personalities, but I'm not one to judge. I'm a Buddhist."

"Indeed," Psylocke muttered in awe.

The Chinese government has denied allegations that they were conducting some kind of top secret Super Soldier program following the liberation of X-Corp member Xorn. Some have theorized the Chinese-born mutant is a sleeper agent for the communist country...

Barcelona.

Through the cobblestone streets of the city whose patron saint slew the dragon, Diode and Joseph watched as the sun caused the multicolored buildings to sparkle. They both wore black jackets over their business duds. Diode had a skirt on that came just below her knees. Joseph's dress slacks fit casually on him over his leather shoes.

Joseph sighed, "Do you remember the address?"

Diode continued walking and observed the beaches along the coast of the Mediterranean, "412 Calle de San Jorge."

Joseph stared blankly in front of him, "Where are we now?"

Diode smiled, "We're almost there, dude."

"I want to get this over with," Joseph said.

"What's biting your balls?" Diode asked. "You're usually more distant and awkward than...whatever you're being now. This is sort of a vacation."

"We flew on the Earth's magnetic field across the Atlantic in under a half hour," Joseph said. "We're going back home when this is over."

"Yeah, duh. But still. It's Spain," Diode said, gesturing towards the skyline. "It's a relief to see this classical stuff compared to the industrialized skyscrapers of the Big Apple."

"There's no metal...hardly any. It's all...stone. Can't feel it," Joseph said.

"What's wrong with you, seriously?" Diode asked as she stopped walking. Joseph stopped as well and looked into the sky. There were a few feathery clouds dusted across it.

Joseph looked away from Diode and said, "Xorn cured my amnesia."

"What...?" Diode said as her shoulders tensed up. "When?"

"When I was in the hospital after Vargas stabbed me in the spine. Xorn focused his energy on my nervous system...and went a little too far," Joseph revealed.

"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Diode asked.

Joseph shook his head as he scanned the area for a bench. He brushed past a couple of pedestrians and sat in an empty one. Diode followed and sat next to him. Joseph leaned forward and looked down at the ground. His intense stare was haunting. Diode patted him on the back.

"I'm sorry...," Joseph said. "I shouldn't blame you."

"Well...wait, you're blaming Xorn?" Diode asked.

Joseph lowered his eyes once more and internally hid himself as if he were running from the truth, "Yes."

"He saved your life," Diode said.

"Not from my angle. I'd rather be a paraplegic than live with the memories I've been awakened to," Joseph said.

"The whole alternate reality thing?" Diode asked.

Joseph chuckled lightly, "Yeah. It was a thing. Most of my fractured memories were images planted by Deus."

"Well, what are you saying?" Diode asked.

"I'm not the son of Magneto and Rogue from another reality," Joseph began, "I'm a portion of the Earth's magnetic field given self-awareness....given....life. Astra knew as Deus did that the only way to combat Magneto was by using his own power against him. Deus had the idea for his Heaven and Hell on Earth and Astra had the technology to pull me into an engineered body. The truth is, I don't really have any memories. I'm nothing but energy inside of this carbon-based shell. I'm a lie."

Tears fell from Joseph's eyes. Diode hugged him tightly, "You're not a lie, Joe. You hear me? You are a live person!"

"What if I don't like this existence?" Joseph asked. "I want to go back to not being aware of myself. I want to return...to being what I was. I was happy when I stopped Magneto from permanently damaging the electromagnetic field...and I died happy. But they brought me back again. Of course, I still thought I was Magneto's clone. When they told me Rogue was my mother, of course, I had an impulse to stay with the X-Men. But now that I know the truth...I don't have anything tying me here."

Diode looked into Joseph's eyes, "You have me. And the others!"

Joseph silently rose from the bench, "It's not enough for me anymore."

"What about Clarice?" Diode asked. "She still loves you, y'know?"

"I pushed her away," Joseph said. "Maybe part of me knew we weren't meant to be together. She wanted my body, not...what I am inside. I don't have a soul. I just had false memories to make it seem like I did."

Diode shook her head, "Joe, are you listening? So what if your past is made up? Look at your life right now. This should be an amazing relief, I mean...you're not related to Magneto, right?"

Joseph sat back down on the bench next to Diode and ran his fingers along the armrest and sighed, "...I guess. I just don't know what to do. I'm so confused."

Diode looked off into the sunset, "What if Psylocke...I don't know, changed your memories?"

Joseph closed his eyes, "No...it's too late. I...wouldn't want to just turn it off. I finally know who I am and what I am."

Diode hugged Joseph tightly, "Don't go killing yourself." Tears welled up in her deep brown eyes, "X-Corp is the only family I've got left...and I don't wanna lose you, buddy."

Joseph emotionlessly looked off into space, but then, his humanity finally rekindled. He leaned his head against Roni's.

Former terrorist against humanity, Pyro, also known as best-selling author John Allerdyce, has had his share of tussles with authority. Recently revealed Australian documents show that Allerdyce was once arrested on cocaine possession charges...

"Get the feck away from me, damn it!" Pyro shouted as he flipped the bird to the paparazzi. He tried to have a moment to himself as he paid proper respects to his fallen friend.

"Pyro, any words for the camera? You're on Celebrities Uncensored," a portly man with a beard said as he held a video camera over his shoulder.

"Pyro, can you sign my copy of your book?"

"Pyro, would you kill humanity given the opportunity?"

"Sign my titties, Pyro! Woooo!"

Pyro put on his sunglasses to protect his eyes from the constant flashes of the cameras. He walked quickly past the microphones and made sure to firmly give the finger to the closest camera. To his surprise, the paparazzi continued to follow him.

"Can't you feckers take a hint?!" Pyro shouted as he began to jog briskly through the cemetery. He just realized they were American...what the hell were they doing all the way in Greece? "Is the Dungeons and Dragons convention closed or something?"

"Any comment on your book losing the number one spot on the best selling list to that Joe Millionaire dude?" another paparazzo asked.

"Any comment on the alleged death of your wife, Diane--"

"THAT'S THE FECKING WRONG QUESTION!" Pyro shouted as he snapped his fingers and ignited huge flames around his hands. "STAY THE FECK BACK!"

"Go ahead and burn us, douche bag, we'll sue you for everything you're worth!" another fat slob of a person taunted as he snapped another photo.

"You're making money off of my image without my fecking consent, you little vaginal-deprived pimple herder," Pyro muttered as he caused various streams of fire to shoot out and melt the cameras. The group flung their smoldering exposure cameras to the ground.

Pyro continued, "Now, if you want to get a little sunburn on your nut sacks, I'll be happy to feckin' oblige. I don't give two shits about humans, to tell you the truth. Go ahead and sue me for damaging your property, I'll ram a countersuit up your little virgin arseholes for invasion of feckin' privacy!"

Pyro stormed off and left the paparazzi shocked. One of them smirked as he held a tape recorder in his hand. He pressed the rewind button and then play, {{"...I don't give two shits about humans..."}}

More juicy pics of Psylocke in the buff while taking a shower in her fiance's apartment! Plus, details on the War-Bets wedding! Oh...and...J-Lo said she hates white people. In response, Ben is said to be apathetic as he continues to hunt off of his Georgia estate...or whatever. But if that doesn't interest you, we've got pictures of Psylocke in the nude!

Maggott huffed as he carried the last person down the flight of stairs of his apartment complex as the fire caused the entrance to explode. He set the little girl down and watched with the other tenants as their homes were set ablaze. Eany and Meany slowly crawled up their master's leg and rested on his shoulders. He peered into their eyes and saw the hundreds of maggots as they burnt to death.

"Can't you save our homes?" an elderly Asian woman asked Maggott.

Japheth shook his head, "Sorry...there's not much I can salvage. It's not in my ability to control fires, either."

The fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of the apartment building and ordered everyone to move back. The ladder operator took a hose and turned it on as he was raised into the air, dousing the flames.

A firefighter ran up to Maggott as black smoke began to fill the air and skyline. "How'd this happen?"

Maggott easily hid the truth, "I don't know, mate...faulty wires or somethin', ag?"

The fireman nodded, "Well, whatever it was...thanks for calling us as fast as you did."

As the fireman ran off to help the others, Archangel shouted, "Maggott!"

He looked upward and saw Archangel descend, wearing casual clothes, "Hey, boss."

"What the hell happened here?" Archangel asked. "I saw on the news, are you alright?"

Maggott closed his eyes and saw the last maggot spawn shrivel up and die. He opened his eyes and shrugged, "Okay for now...gonna need a place to stay, though."

"You can stay with Betsy and I...um...that is...if you want," Archangel offered.

Maggott's eyes bulged, realizing Psylocke would discover he started the fire to kill the spawn, "Uh...no! Thanks...I'll just check into a hotel or something."

Archangel smiled, "No, I insist. Really. You're turning out to be pretty good at this business thing. I loved your idea about integrating more minorities into the managerial staff. I don't want you to stay at a crummy hotel."

"I don't think Betsy likes me," Maggott said. "I don't want to feel uncomfortable..."

"She doesn't hate you...well, as much as Pyro," Archangel chuckled.

Maggott sighed and reluctantly accepted Archangel's offer.

He was a nice guy...really.

...Warren and Betsy wedding rumors, plus...Pyro literally explodes when the mutant paparazzi oversteps their boundaries. Tune in!