Warren Worthington is a conflicted man.

On the one hand, according to Forbes, he's one of the most powerful men in the world. Angel Inc., formerly Worthington Enterprises, has skyrocketed since his return to the business world. His bank account currently bulges, and were he single, he would probably named as one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.

On the other hand, he's also a mutant with the ability to manifest wings of pure light. He fights alongside other mutants, like himself, as an X-Man. He's romantically involved with a beautiful woman and he's making a difference in the world.

The question remains though, which route is better for him? Does he focus completely on his company, or does he devote all his time to the X-Men? It's a question that he has debated many times over the years, and each time, he ends up trying to juggle the two at once. Perhaps if there were some way he could do both simultaneously. He quickly dismisses the thought and instead, looks out the massive windows of Angel Inc.'s New York office. Looks out at the white clouds hovering in the blue sky. Looks out at the massive skyline.

"You know Warren, these sessions only work if you talk to me," says the other man in the room. He's sitting before Warren's desk in a suit, and his long green hair is pulled back into a ponytail.

"Sorry doc, guess I was in my own world," says Warren and he turns his attention back to his guest.

"You called me because you said you think you might need some help," replies Doctor Leonard Samson.

"You do come highly recommended," says Warren as he sits across from the psychiatrist. He's dressed in a white suit. "They say you're the best."

"That's because I've got gamma-irradiated strength to back me up," says Leonard with a slight grin. "Anyone who says otherwise isn't around long enough to give a reply."

Warren doesn't give a response to his comment, just brings his hand up to his mouth. His eyes glance downward, as if he's deep in thought.

"That was a joke."

"I know," says Warren.

"Could I at least get a courtesy laugh?"

"Sorry, guess I'm not in much of a laughing mood lately."

"Why's that?" asks Leonard.

"It's just everything that's happened recently," replies Warren.

"You'll have to forgive my ignorance, but I'm not really up to date on superhuman exploits lately," says Leonard. "What's been happening?"

"Where to begin?" asks Warren.

"Well, why don't we start with what's bothering you and go from there."

A dead silence fills the air, as Warren Worthington struggles to find his words. The whole idea of therapy always seemed a bit strange to him. Confessing all your problems to a complete stranger in hopes that they might be able to provide some miracle cure. He should have gone to Betsy about this. She's his equal, his significant other. He loves her and she, him. They trust each other implicitly. And yet, he finds he can't trust her enough with his problems. Is it because he doesn't want to be a burden on her? Or is it because he feels he has to do this on his own?

"Warren...?"

"...I've been having... dreams..." confesses Warren.

"Most people do," says Leonard. "Is there something about the dreams that trouble you?"

"Well... not dreams..." says Warren. "Nightmares."

"What kind of nightmares?"

"Of... of Central Park..." says Warren.

"Judging by the change in your tone, I'm guessing it's not a fear of being mugged."

"No... it's worse," says Warren. "Much worse."

"What happened in Central Park?" asks Leonard.

"People of New York... We are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!"

"Warren...?"

"The time for your end has come!"

"Warren, look at me," says Leonard. "What happened in Central Park?"

"Make peace with whatever gods you worship, and prepare to face death!"

"I did some... bad things..." says Warren.

"You flatscan humans are unworthy of the new world order!"

"I killed..."

"Don't worry about your love's suffering anymore, Pryde. If he's not dead by sunrise, I'll kill him myself."

"I tortured..."

"Warren Worthington is gone. I'm Death once more."

"And I enjoyed it."

"Why?" asks Leonard.

"I was brainwashed by Apocalypse," replies Warren. "Forced to serve him... again. The things I did while I was under his control..."

"But it wasn't you," says Leonard. "It was someone else."

"I remember everything I did," says Warren. "Not only do I remember what I did, I remember how I felt while I did it. I loved every minute of it. I was like a bird of prey."

"But you broke free," says Leonard.

"No, I didn't," says Warren. "There was... something else..."

"You're not like this... Come on, Warren. Let me out."

"A voice in my head..." says Warren. "Telling me to break loose. To break free."

"And you did," says Leonard. "That alone speaks volumes."

"When I broke free... I had new powers," says Warren. "New wings that were made of light. And I could switch between forms. I can appear as a normal human without a trace of my wings at all. But when I manifest my powers, I have wings made of light. And my skin turns blue again. Even my hair turns into light. And there's no scientific explanation for it."

"It's probably due to what Apocalypse did to you," says Leonard.

"Apocalypse couldn't have done that much," says Warren. "This has to be something else. Nothing Apocalypse would have given me could cause me to turn against him like I did.

"At first, I didn't think anything of it," he continues. "I thought that this was related to what Apocalypse did to me. I never heard that voice again, so I figured it was my conscious breaking free or something. And I never had any regret over what I had done. Then, a few weeks ago, the nightmares started.

"Now, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm so confused, I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. And what's really strange is that there's something else in the dreams that I can't explain..."

"What would that be?" asks Leonard.

"Darkness..." replies Warren.

---

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..."

"Ugh, would you shut the fuck up?"

"What's your problem, Broadside?" asks the Sea Dog. His legs are looped around a pipe on the ceiling, and he hangs in front of the largest of the Crimson Pirates.

"Just gettin' antsy is all," replies Broadside. "And it doesn't help when you keep singing that dumbass song over an' over again."

"Cheer up, matey," says Sea Dog, as he flips from the pipe and lands on the ground. "Pretty soon we'll be wreaking havoc across dimensions. Sing it with me! We pillage and plunder and rifle and loot! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a—"

"Shut the fuck up before I blow your goddamn head off."

"Y'know, you're not as much fun as y' used to be," says Sea Dog.

"The song was funny the first time," says Broadside. "Maybe even a little amusing the second time. The third time it started to get annoying. Now, after the fiftieth time, it just pisses me off!"

"Fine, I'll let ya be, then," says Sea Dog. He moves away from Broadside and makes his way up to the deck of the ship. He sees Killian, the leader of the Crimson Pirates, mulling over a computer monitor.

"Got a destination in mind yet, Captain?" he asks.

"You might say that," replies Killian. He points to one specific spot on the dimensional map. Sea Dog squints through his goggles when he looks at it. His eyes grow wide once he recognizes it.

"616?!" he says. "You wanna go back to that shithole? You wanna get revenge on that America guy or something?"

"That was business, Dog," replies Killian. "I've got a practical reason for choosing 616."

"What's that?"

"It's dimensional frabric has been weakened," says Killian. "We can pierce through the dimension's natural barriers with minimal effort and power. There's one spot where the barrier has been severely weakened."

"How'd that happen?" asks Sea Dog.

"Most-likely because of too much interdimensional activity in that area," replies Killian. "Go find Broadside and Bess. Tell them we'll be docking soon."

"Yes sir," says Sea Dog. It takes just a moment of concentration, and two duplicates of the Sea Dog split off from his body and run in opposite directions on the ship.

---

Each knock upon his door feels like a nail being driven inside his head. John Allerdyce pulls a pillow over his head to try and drive the sound out.

On the other side of the door, Clarice Ferguson continues knocking. Charles Lehnsherr, or Joseph as he prefers to be called, stands next to her. He runs a hand through his freshly-cut hair.

"Are you gonna stay in there all day, or are you gonna come out to eat sometime?" asks Clarice.

"Go 'way..." mutters John. "I've got the mum of all hangovers..."

Joseph lightly grabs Clarice's wrist and halts the knocking.

"Thank you!" they hear John shout.

"Maybe we should just let him be," says Joseph.

"That's like the third day in a row he's slept in past two," says Clarice. "What does he do all night?"

"You know writers, they always have to be eccentric," says Joseph. "My guess is he gets buzzed then sits at his laptop all night typing."

"I still can't believe you got your hair cut when I was over at Muir," says Clarice.

"You don't like it?" asks Joseph.

"I guess I am sort of relieved," replies Clarice. "When you stopped shaving, I was worried you were going for a Moses look."

She lightly rubs the goatee on his chin.

"This is much cleaner, though. I like it."

He smiles at her and links his hand in hers as they walk through the abandoned town that serves as the X-Men's homebase.

"Seriously though... do you like it?" asks Joseph. "Because I can shave it off."

"You worry too much, Joe," she replies. "I told you I like it. The rockstar look was good, but this is better. More pop-punkish."

"...okay?"

Clarice laughs slightly at his comment. Despite his knowledge, he doesn't seem to keep up much with pop culture.

---

"What do you mean by darkness?" asks Leonard.

"It's hard to describe..." replies Warren. "All I know is that something bad's coming. And I'm not sure what it is."

Warren stands from his seat and walks back over to the window.

"You like that window, I see," says Leonard. Warren places his hand up against the glass.

"I miss it."

"Miss what?"

"Being able to feel."

"You're not beyond emotion, Warren," says Leonard. "From what you've told me, you're madly in love with a beautiful woman. And it's obvious from the way that you divide your time between your company and the X-Men that you have a big heart."

"I didn't mean emotionally," says Warren. "When I fly, I can't feel it."

"That's a bit vague to me," says Leonard.

"Can't say I'm surprised," says Warren. "When I had my feather wings, I could feel them as I flew. I could feel the wind blowing through them. I can't really describe it, but... it was something like gentle fingers caressing each and every single feather. Now, when I fly with these wings, I feel nothing. I don't even notice that they're there. Don't get me wrong, strategically speaking, these new powers are great. I can fly at high speeds and for longer periods of time than I ever could with my feather wings. And these wings give me much more offensive capabilities. But... I can't just fly for enjoyment anymore. Because there is no enjoyment in flying."

"I wish I could understand somehow," says Leonard. "But I've never had the opportunity to fly with wings of my own."

"Your loss, doc," says Warren. "Both of..."

He stops midsentence.

"What was that?" asks Leonard.

Warren walks to his desk and presses a small button beneath it. The large bay window begins to slide open, and he removes his suit jacket. Leonard watches as Warren's skin turns a light shade of blue, his hair begins to glow, and wings of light protrude from his back.

"If you'll excuse me, Leonard, it looks like we have to cut this session short," he says. "I think there's some trouble."

Leonard Samson stands from his seat and walks to the window as Warren leaps from it and flies off. In the distance, where he sees Warren flying to, he can see a large, black portal opening and a large ship of some sort coming from it.