Cape Town, South Africa.

The plane en route to Sydney, Australia was on its second stop of flights, at the southern tip of Africa. Little does the crew know, there lurks someone in the cargo hold.

The man known as Japheth breathes heavily as he feels his entire chest rumble with each beat his heart jumps. He's managed to shave off the one chisel of long hair on his head, just above his forehead. Hopefully no one would recognize him. His dark blue skin was also deactivated.

If hitting rock bottom was this bad, Maggott wouldn't have gotten into the superhero business. That's what every kid dreams of doing. Saving the world and getting the girl to live happily ever after. Usually, that's the case with heroes. But even being a former X-Man and member of the Fantastic Four and unofficial SHIELD agent can't help him now.

Maggott was gifted with the extraordinary and strange mutation of two grotesque slug-like creatures that devoured matter at great speeds which also act as his digestive system. But, as the body grows, so does everything else with it.

"Damn, this i'nt good t'all," Maggott breathes as Eany and Meany (the affectionate names he gave to "the girls") squirk and slither around his body, eating up luggage like it was candy. Once, Maggott was able to carry the girls in his palms. Now, he's barely able to cradle them in his arms. They're now the size of small dogs.

They squirk, their way of asking if there's anything else to eat. Japh looks about the cargo hold and sees everything has been totally devoured. The engines start the ignition sequence, causing the plane to rumble.

"Not yet, gels. Not until we get to Australia...to get some help," Maggott says. He lifts up his wife beater, revealing his abdomen. He winces, "Now hurry up an' get in yer house. Quick, before you do any more damage."

The two slugs look at one another with their eerie glowing red eyes. They seem to growl as they both lunge at Maggott's stomach and begin chomping at it with every set of teeth in their mouths. They continue to chomp and burrow their way into the slimy pink void of the cavity they reside in.

Maggott slumps over from the pain as the lacerations seal themselves. His brown skin turns dark blue as his mass bulks up and his eyes glow the same red color as his pets.

"We'll find some help."

Sydney.

To some, laughter is the best medicine. To others...marijuana is. Either way, the X-Men have needed some time off from their jobs. From the world finding out where their secret base was to their poor choice of teammates, they've had an eventful ride.

Archangel, Psylocke, and Pyro are sitting at a table in front of a stage at a comedy club. Tonight's talent is an American, more specifically a Latin American woman from Los Angeles. Her name is Roni Santiago. She has red leather pants on, leather boots, and a black halter top, along with what seems like ten necklaces. Her short cut black hair had a sort of spiky look, but it was still very attractive.

"...I mean, because in LA, white guys aren't always so bad to the Mexicans," Roni says as she holds the microphone in both hands. She puts it back on the stand and sits on the obligatory stage stool. She shakes her head, "Once they see the boo-tay, they all be like, 'Damn, white girls' asses can't get that big without it turning into a cottage cheese farm!' "

The audience, including Warren and John, bust out laughing. Betsy twirls the straw in her alcoholic drink around a bit. It's been an emotional week for her. She had to travel to Muir Island to present Moira with Warlock's techno-organic ashes. Psylocke tried, but couldn't fess up to killing him. She blamed it on the Phalanx.

She notices Warren's wings would always sort of rise and fall whenever he laughed. She hasn't seen him laugh this hard, at least, not around her. She wasn't a comedian, but it seems he was never this happy. Happy to be halfway normal again.

Betsy hated being the way she was. Weak, skinny, prissy. She has the heart of a warrior and adrenaline junkie. She's pulled her left shoulder muscle twice now in training. While Archangel was now back to his high-flying Angel look, Psylocke went from ass-kicking ninja warrior to prissy British fashion queen.

Don't get her wrong, she loves the old look, but she lost something...something she may never get back. Pyro places his hand over hers under the table. She pretends not to notice and takes that hand to lean her chin on.

"Okay, so you're driving and the sun is right in your eyes. So now, you feel all like a dang deer...or should I say kangaroo down here?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"I mean, why do you still have to pull the shade thingie down in your car with the sun shining directly at you...and you have sunglasses on!?" Roni asks. "Rayband needs to like pull some strings with Men In Black or something, you know what I'm sayin'? Isn't that the point of sunglasses? They don't call 'em as-long-as-you-don't-look-directly-at-the-sun-glasses."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Warren fidgets in his seat, his wings were getting cramped. He leans in towards Betsy, "Why aren't you laughing?"

Betsy rolls her eyes, looking unimpressed, "I don't see how people can laugh at such bad jokes." She takes a sip of her drink, "I'm guessing she's some sort of mutant."

"I'm guessing she's a little Aussie-curious," Pyro smirks. "What do you think my chances are with her?"

"What's an American doing standup in Australia, anyway?" Psylocke asks. She tries to probe the mind of the comedian, but all she gets is some sort of interference. "Can't probe her mind."

"Yeah," Warren says as he applauds, wiping a tear from his eye, "best not to invade her privacy."

"No, I mean I really can't probe her mind," Psylocke says. "I'm being blocked by some sort of static."

"Your powers weaker or something in your old bod?" Pyro asks.

"No! I'm...totally efficient, thank you," Psylocke responds arrogantly.

"Heh, I just realized we're all blonde," Pyro says as he puts his arm around Psylocke. He soon removes it when Archangel gives him a piercing glance. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"I thought we agreed not to bring him along," Warren says telepathically.

"John is our friend and our teammate. Everyone else had plans and we couldn't let him stay all alone at the hotel," Betsy responds.

"Of course we could've," Warren says. "I don't trust him. I know you two slept together, but you were on the dark side for a while. I don't think he gets that now that you're back to normal."

"Quit being the jealous quarterback, he gets it, Warren," Psylocke yells. She sighs, "Besides, he's pretty enthralled by our hostess tonight."

"Hahahahahaha," Warren chuckles.

Betsy gets enraged as she sees Roni doing her impression of J-Lo.

"I'm still Jenny from the block?!" Roni screams. "You make $1,000,000,000 for making movies and singing! If I made that kind of money, I'd say fuck the ghetto!"

"WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!!" she shouts in her mind.

Psylocke slams her napkin on the table and walks off towards the front lobby. Warren grimaces as he gives Pyro a look. His cell phone starts vibrating.

"Shit," Warren mutters. He checks to see the monitor. It was the Manhattan offices. Angel Inc. was demanding more and more of his time from the X-Men and Betsy. He reluctantly selects the mute option and gets out of his chair to go into the lobby.

Pyro grins at Roni as she makes another J-Lo ass reference. He reaches for the inside of his leather coat pocket, expecting to find a pack of cigs, but remembers he's been cutting back. He pulls out a toothpick instead and begins to chew on one of the ends.

Suddenly, there is a loud pop of air molecules followed by a burst of light and heat on stage.

"Holy mother of Kylie Minogue!" Pyro shouts in shock as he falls backwards in his chair. He immediately concentrates, trying to localize the flames.

"Crickey!"

"Protect the beeah!"

"My ass! My ass is on fire!"

"...what smells like pork roast?"

The crowd, frightened by the explosion, clear out of the auditorium like rats out of a sinking ship. Pyro, who is the only one left, looks at the flames, which are all swirling above the stage in an amorphic dance.

"Guess you are a mutant, huh?" Pyro asks as the flames dissipate. He walks up onto the stage and finds Roni unconscious on the ground with a piece of metal shrapnel caught in her right thigh. A small river of blood is running down towards the hole in the stage where the explosion occurred.

Roni lifts her bruised head slightly, but her eyes roll back into her head as she looses consciousness once more.

"That was a bloody bomb, you didn't do that...hmm," Pyro pauses as he slips his arms under Roni's body and lifts her up, trying not to dig the shrapnel deeper into her leg wound.

"Pyro?!" Psylocke shouts as she and Archangel rush into the empty auditorium. "Are you alright? We heard the explosion and almost got trampled!"

"Is that the comedian?" Archangel asks, flapping his wings, causing the sound of a flag blowing in the wind. He lands on the stage and observes the limp body of Roni. Psylocke jumps into the shadow of the back row seating, then feels embarrassed, forgetting she's Crimson Dawn free. She runs up to the stage and trips on the last step.

"Bugger!" she grunts, getting up to her feet.

Pyro glances at Betsy and then nods to Warren, "Yeah, it's her."

"Did she cause the explosion?" Archangel asks.

"No, it was a bomb someone set," Pyro sighs. "Look at her leg, it's wounded."

"We better get her to a hospital," Archangel says as he whips out his cell.

Psylocke's eyes glimmer as she sees Roni's body crackle with electricity. Pyro's hair literally stands on end.

"Whoa...," he mumbles.

"We better cancel the hospital call, Warren," Psylocke says. "Looks like Ms. Santiago's a mutant. Might be easier to treat her wounds back at the hotel. I'll contact Blink to 'port us home."

"Does my hair look weird?" Pyro asks.

Archangel sighs and nods, "You look like Rod Stewart or something."

"Sweet."

*BLINK*

Clarice walks out of the portal running vertically in the aisle, "Everything okay?"

"Nothing serious, get the med lab prepped," Archangel commands.

Blink nods as she walks back into the portal. Pyro, Psylocke, and Archangel follow suit. The portal closes with a loud pop.

"...ungh...," Roni groans as she wakes up with a numbing feeling in her leg. She looks down at it and rubs it gently. It was pumped full of morphine so she couldn't feel the pain. The last thing she remembered was being in mid-joke at the comedy club. "I sure hope they doubled my pay for this."

She gets out of the bed and immediately lays back down after a sharp throbbing pain in her sinuses causes her nausea.

Roni sees a slender white woman with brown hair and a white streak, wearing some sort of gray long sleeved shirt with black leather pants with lime green X's on them.

"Whoa, there, girl," the woman says as she walks up to Roni. She places her palm on Roni's forehead, "You all right?" She had a slight southern accent. An American Southern accent.

"Am I still in Sydney?" Roni asks. "Because if I am...Americans aren't all rednecks. You're doing a terrible accent. I'm seriously offended."

"I ain't a redneck," Rogue smiles. "I'm Rogue. I'm with X-Men Omega."

"O...kay?" Roni says as she sits up in her bed. "I'm Roni Santiago. I'm a comic. If it's no trouble, I'd like to get back to my apartment in Sydney."

"You live there?" Rogue asks.

Roni looks down at her feet, "Well, no. I just go there to sleep, eat, take showers, put on men's clothes--yes, I live there!"

Rogue chuckles, "Sorry, just find it weird that you're living in Australia when clearly, you're American."

"Where am I? I need to get home, I'm very tired and very, very in need of some porn," Roni sighs.

"You're at our base in the Outback. Didn't you see all the news on it?" Rogue asks.

"Should I have?" Roni counters.

"My teammates probably saved your life, y'know," Rogue says. "If you'd stop actin' like you're all repulsed by mutants, maybe you'd be more willing to accept that you are one."

"What...did you say?" Roni asks, suddenly becoming focused on what Rogue is saying.

"I read your thoughts for a split second," Rogue informs.

"I'm not a mutant like you," Roni says.

"Our Cerebro unit ran a scan on a drop of your blood and confirmed that you're x-gene positive," Rogue says.

"I want outta here," Roni says through clenched teeth. Sparks of electricity come out of her eyes. She sighs, rubbing her eyes, "Don't make me cry...you wouldn't like it when I cry."

A man dressed in similar black leather approaches Rogue from behind. He touches her lightly on the back as he walks up to Roni, "Hi, I'm Quicksilver, I'm the leader of X-Men Omega."

"A former Avenger and a redneck in Australia...great," Roni quips. "I came to the asshole of the planet to be alone."

"Look, I'm sorry for keeping you here, but it's for your own safety," Quicksilver explains. "We have reason to believe you may have been a target. Anti-mutant terrorists are popping up all over. Some of our colleagues are investigating the scene of the crime to try and figure out who's after you."

A door slides open and Pyro walks in with his black leather coat. He has a beer bottle in his hand, "Is she awake yet?"

"That's the fourth beer you've had in under an hour," Quicksilver observes.

"First you wankers tell me to quit smokin', now beer?" Pyro wails. "Since when have you become my mum, Maximoff? I'm an adult. Bullocks."

"Everyone on this team has to be healthy--" Quicksilver begins.

"You do sound like his mother," Roni jumps in. Pietro shoots her a "not you, too?" glance. Pyro and Rogue laugh.

Rogue grabs Pietro's arm, "Come on, go play ping pong with yourself or something to ease your nerves."

As the couple walks out of the med lab, Roni looks at Pyro and smirks slyly, "Is that some sort of innuendo?"

"What? No, Quicksilver's got superspeed," Pyro explains. "Come to think of it, yeah, that did sound like innuendo. Those two shag like rabbits. Kind of weird with his brother around. His brother is Rogue's son from another timeline. So, that would kind of make Rogue Pietro's stepmom."

"What the--" Roni blurts out. "That made absolutely no sense."

"Try not to think about it," Pyro laughs as he takes a swig of beer. He pulls up a chair and sits next to the bed. "I'm John Allerdyce."

"You a X-Man, too?" Roni asks. "Don't see any X's anywhere. Surprised you don't have them tattooed on your asses. A bald man becomes a martyr, suddenly a letter of the age old alphabet becomes a trademark."

"Am I an X-Man? Heh!" Pyro pauses, "I honestly don't know. Some of them I've fought with, some against, mostly against. The longtime members probably see me as the newbie with past work experience at the rival burger joint. But...angh, they're a good group. They actually helped me, their former enemy."

"How'd that happen?" Roni asks.

"I had the Legacy Virus," Pyro says. "They helped me recover."

"Legacy? Really? Shit, I remember when that was almost an epidemic," Roni recalls.

"How'd you end up here down under?" Pyro asks.

"Well," Roni looks at her feet as she wiggles them on the bed. "A man."

"Really? Who?"

"It didn't have anything to do with a relationship, but his name was--"

Sydney.

"Mr. Takken?"

The blue-haired man of fair complexion sits down at a desk. He has a white robe that covers his body. He folds his hands as he leans his elbows on the desktop, "What is it, now? We've got hundreds of mutants seeking refuge with us after the Sentinel attacks, Gene Nation is starting to lose our funding, and I've got the worst hangover right now. Can it wait till morning?"

Geri Archer, Gene Nation's resident psi-talent, sits on the edge of the desk, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Stan Wallace, the blonde gravity manipulator, stands with his arms crossed behind Takken's chair. Takken runs his hand through his hair, "Out with it. What do you want? A raise?"

Geri looks down and traces the grain of the wood with her finger, "No. Didn't you hear what happened at the comedy club?"

"Yes," Takken says, exasperated. "Roni was supposed to be under our protection."

"Then why didn't our guards do their job?" Wallace asks.

"Three of the X-Men were there, you dolt," Will says. "Guards cost money. With them there, I figured they'd handle the situation if one arose."

"Well, one did arise," Geri says.

"I think it's anti-mutant terrorists. Bastard humans trying to voice themselves," Wallace says.

"Sod off, Wallace, we're all humans," Takken sighs.

{{I think not!}} an electronically enhanced voice blares.

"That came from outside...," Wallace observes.

Geri's eyes close, as she picks up multiple brain patterns. "Oh God."

Hundreds of men wearing white robes and black faceless masks crash into the Gene Nation Headquarters. They are all brandishing rapid fire laser blasters. The "clerics" also have jet packs which allow them to slowly hover towards the frightened crowd below. The human Gene Nation members all scream and run helter skelter about the safehouse as lasers rain down upon the various members who were actually mutants.

The mutants begin fighting back as two powerful bursts of orange magnetic pulses are fired at the gunmen, knocking them back. They return fire and so on.

"We have to--AHHH!" Geri screams as she is hit by an EMP blast by an unseen sniper.

"Archer!" Wallace shouts before he is rendered temporarily powerless by a similar EMP. Then, both of Takken's confidants are killed as a thin blue ray of light passes through their temple. Archer and Wallace's lifeless husks slump on the floor with gaping holes in the sides of their skulls.

Takken's eyes become opaque as gale force winds force these strange robed men and women. They were dressed like priests or some sort of clerics.

"Mr. Takken!" a middle-aged Australian man yells. Takken recognized him. He was David Oatley, a human. "This way!"

Takken follows David through the back door of the facility. "Are there any casualties?" Takken asks. "David?"

"Aye, sir. Seems the mutant members have been targeted."

"Damn it," Takken growls. He grabs David by the shoulders, "Listen to me, I want you to get to a television or radio station."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how else to get the X-Men's attention!"

"Have you got anything?" Blink asks Psylocke. They have been investigating the scene of the explosion at the comedy club for about ten minutes.

Psylocke regretfully shakes her head, "This is pointless."

"Not quite," Blink says as she closes her eyes, seeing the world by means of her pocket dimension. She's never tried it to scan the contents of a room, mainly to make sure she doesn't open any of her transit portals into solid masses around the world. The room is dimly lit by a pink tint. Metal stands out as an almost neon color. Still closing her eyes, Blink slowly walks to the corner of the stage. She leans down and picks up a small metal scrap lodged in the floor boards. Clarice smiles, "Bingo."

Psylocke smirks, "These bloody cops could use people like you."

Blink shrugs modestly, "Well, I let my powers do the work."

"But still." Psylocke sighs, "Is there anything written on it?"

Blink peers at the tiny shard of metal, "Not that I can see. We better get back to base. Maybe we can have Joseph analyze the metal and figure out who manufactures it. Then maybe we can get a list of likely customers that did this."

Psylocke grabs Blink's arm, "Listen, I never meant to ruin what you were accomplishing for Victor. I saw your alternate-self's memories."

Blink smiles, "Don't worry about it. This reality is totally different. I should really stop acting like the other one was real to begin with."

"Please don't lie, Clarice," Psylocke says as tears well up in her eyes. "You wish I was dead."

"No," Blink begins.

"Freeze!" a police officer yells, drawing his gun. The four officers behind him draw theirs as well.

"We're the X-Men, damn it," Psylocke mutters with her back to the officers, tears still in her eyes.

"You're tampering with evidence!" the officer yells. "I don't care if you're mutants that do heroic stuff, get out of this crime scene! This is our job! Our job which we get paid for!"

"We still need that metal shard you found. It could be a piece of the bomb. We can find out who planted it," Psylocke calls to Blink mentally.

"Just stay put, I can blink us out of here in a flash," Blink explains.

"No, they'll put us out to be outlaws again!" Psylocke yells. "I'm sick of running when we don't have to." Betsy turns around and a pink katana forms in her hands. She throws it like a boomerang as it passes through the five officers, knocking them out. The katana dissipates as Psylocke turns to Blink. "Now you can open a portal."

"What did you just do?" Blink asks.

Psylocke crosses her arms, impressed with herself, "I manifested my psi-blade as a concentrated bolt of visible psionic energy, taking the form of a katana. I knocked them out and wiped their memories of finding us here at the same time."

"It's just that I've never seen you do that," Blink says.

Psylocke simply smiles, "There's a lot you haven't seen what the old me could--can do."

Blink smiles, "Okay." With that, a portal opens and swallows the two women before closing itself.

The robed men and women stand as they await the emergence of their founder from his chambers. They appear to be in an oversized monastery. A tall man wearing similar robes, except having more intricate detail and wearing a pope's hat, walks down the aisle and sits on a chair located on the altar. Two adolescent "altar boys" dressed in the same militaristic-religious attire stand on either side of the man.

"You may be seated," the man says.

"It is good that you exist, holy Supreme Pontiff," the clerics chant in unison as they sit.

"Now, it is time for us to make our sacrifice to God to show Him our love," the Supreme Pontiff says as he raises his hand.

Will Takken is brought in by two guards, bruised and bleeding, and with a negator collar around his neck. He is thrown at the foot of the Pontiff's chair. The two guards bow their heads and say a prayer of thanks. They look at the Pontiff and speak, "The leader of the Gene Nation, your holiness."

Takken shakily and painfully tries to look up at the Pontiff's face, but it is concealed by shadow. The Pontiff's deep voice echoes throughout the hall, "It is part of our religious obligation on this world to eradicate the mutant strain of humanity. Mutants, homo superior, humans possessing more power than they were meant to. Devils, you are, agents of Satan. You are trying to force humans into having children, mutant children. Sick, twisted, and perverted you are. You are merely a test in His Grand Design. Mutants walk the Earth and make humans envious of you, you must be eradicated for us to be accepted at the gates of Heaven! God said that none shall worship any deities but Him!"

"Amen," the clerics shout.

"Who are--?" Takken tries to ask, but is kicked in the jaw by the Pontiff's altar boy.

"You are not to speak, filth!" the Pontiff shouts. Takken has no choice but to listen to the words echo in his brain as blood pours from his lip. "You are in presence of the leader of the Church of Humanity. You are to be sacrificed tomorrow on the Sabbath, as we do every Sunday."

"I will be avenged...," Takken mutters. He cracks a smile, "A martyr is always avenged."

The Pontiff appears to chuckle as he rises to his feet and walks up to Takken, who is on his knees. The Pontiff holds out his hand, "Kiss it, and maybe I'll reconsider your sentence. We have plenty of impure children in the pens."

Takken's eyes widen, "You monster! Children?! Wasn't the onslaught you brought forth on the Gene Nation sacrifice enough?!"

The Pontiff smiles. Takken can see his icy cold blue eyes. The Pontiff breathes a woft of warm air upon Takken, "We sacrifice mutants every Sunday during mass, but over in Australia...it's already Sunday. Kiss my hand and declare that God is Lord!"

"I'd rather die now than let you kill helpless children," Takken growls. "At least that will give time for--"

"Time for what?" the Pontiff interrupts. "The X-Men to come and save you?" The Pontiff laughs as a digital map of Australia lights up the room. Thousands of tiny dots pop up throughout the map. A congregation of dots are shown somewhere in the Outback. The Pontiff points at the hologram, causing the map to zoom in on the detail. Seven distinct dots are shown as seven distinct headshots appear on the left scroll: Roni Santiago and six of X-Men Omega.

"Believe me," the Pontiff begins, "they are being dealt with."