X-Men #32 - August 2007

Scattered across a small, country-side field in Pennsylvania were several armed men in black military fatigues lying either unconscious or too sore to move. A downed helicopter rested to the side of the battlefield, a long and deep row of upturned dirt having followed it, with its unarmed pilots struggling to get out as their aircraft slowly caught fire. Amidst the wreckage and flames of another downed aircraft, the X-Men's very own stealth Aurora jet, two of the only individuals still standing squared off.

Bruised and battered from the battle fought just moments ago, Scott Summers - Cyclops while on missions with the X-Men - drew both of his fists up in a boxer's stance as he faced down adamantium coil wielding Frank Payne, a mercenary well-known by the underworld The Constrictor.

"Phoenix, check on Beast!" Cyclops ordered as he and The Constrictor began to pace around each other. Jean Grey, also known as Phoenix, hesitated from the sidelines.

"But Scott...!" she started to say. He cut her off.

"I've got this! Just go!"

Phoenix took one last look at her husband and turned in the direction that The Constrictor had flung their bullet-riddled teammate - as well as long time friend - only moments ago. She hated to admit it, but he was right to send her away. Her telekinesis had failed her just as the Aurora was shot down and her telepathy was useless against their assailants with their psi-dampeners on.

With his wife out of harm's way for the time being, Cyclops knew that he could fully concentrate on the task at hand.

"You've got this, huh?" The Constrictor huffed, watching Phoenix flee the battle from the corner of his eye. "You can barely stand, X-Man."

"You sound pretty confident for someone who got a broken hand not five minutes into battle," Cyclops retorted as the two continued to pace around each other, The Constrictor notably cradling his hand. The Constrictor bit his lip and darted for his target, closing the space between the two.

Cyclops quickly drew a hand to his visor and unleashed a wide yet thin optic blast towards The Constrictor's midsection, but the coiled mercenary dropped from his run into a baseball slide underneath it and collided into Cyclops's legs. The leader of the X-Men grunted as he was sent crashing over his adversary's form, but he was able to twist mid-fall and land flat on his back.

Rolling over to face the fallen Cyclops, The Constrictor shuffled to his feet using his good hand for support and let out a fierce battle-cry as he lashed an electrified adamantium coil down upon him. Cyclops's hand went back to his visor and unleashed a barrage of small optic blasts across The Constrictor's body, driving him back several steps before the adamantium coil could strike him.

The pain the crimson force beams had caused The Constrictor were minimal, but the force was powerful enough to shake his body. Cyclops rolled onto his back shoulders and hands, then thrust his legs upward and propelled himself upward onto his feet back into another battle stance just as The Constrictor regained his footing.

"See the battlefield littered with your comrades? See the downed choppers?" Cyclops asked through panted breathes. "Tired or not, what makes you think you have a chance against me? Just stand down!"

The Constrictor, ignoring the X-Man's rhetoric, flicked a wrist to his side and wrapped a coil around a large piece of a computer console that rested among the Aurora's debris. Cyclops's eyes went wide behind his visor as The Constrictor used his mighty coil to lift the dresser-sized remains above his head and flung it forward with force that betrayed the slim width of the coils and the average build of their wielder.

Cyclops leaned into the path of the coming debris and let fly an optic blast into its core, ripping it into two and causing the halves to sail past the sides of his frame with scarcely inches to spare. However, it was the adamantium coil that drove straight into his stomach the moment the console was split that he hadn't the time to anticipate, cutting deep into his left side.

"Argh!" Cyclops cried out as he felt a fiery pain erupt from the wound. He instinctively went to grab hold of the coil and extract it from his body, but The Constrictor bit his lip and grinned, immediately electrifying the coil and sending thousands of volts coursing through his body. A scream erupted from Cyclops's throat as he collapsed to his knees, still clinging to the coil as he cried out.

Satisfied that the pain he had inflicted was more than enough to subdue his opponent, The Constrictor ended the feed of electricity and retracted the pointed coil from the X-Man's stomach. Blood began gushing from the wound as Cyclops collapsed to the ground, huffing and heaving wildly, his numb body wracked with pain. The Constrictor refused to give him a moment for rest.

With Cyclops prone on the ground, helpless, The Constrictor flung another coil towards him and burrowed it around his neck, cutting off his breathing. He drug the X-Man across the ground towards him and lifted him up slightly, just enough to force Cyclops to his knees to prevent being choked, and he prepared for the killing blow.

It was taking everything Cyclops had in him from going limp and losing consciousness, The Constrictor knew this, and he secretly relished in the fact that he had the ever-so confident leader of the X-Men dead to rights.

"Still think I should stand down?" he remarked with a half-hearted smirk.

The familiar sound of a box-magazine being locked into place wiped the smirk clean off of The Constrictor's masked face.

"You don't have a choice," Phoenix stated as she drew up The Constrictor's discarded submachine gun, its barrel pointed directly at the side of his head from less than a dozen feet away. He shifted his eyes in her direction without moving his head, glancing at her and the barrel sideways, and suddenly the smirk returned.

"Your hands are trembling," The Constrictor noted as he slowly turned around to face her, using his coils to draw Cyclops closer into him and making him face his wife. "You sound nervous, too. Have you even fired a gun before, let alone one of those things?"

"Shut up and put him down!" Phoenix barked, her voice cracking as she took a step forward and pressed the barrel of the submachine gun closer to The Constrictor's head. He simply tightened the coil around Cyclops's throat in response, slowly choking him. Cyclops frantically reached up and tried to pry the coils from his neck, but it was useless and The Constrictor wanted his wife to see that.

"Flinging around your mutant powers, maybe even fighting hand to hand, it's easy," The Constrictor explained as he continued to slowly choke Cyclops. "But shooting someone in the head? Killing them? It's out of your league, babe. I can tell."

Phoenix's hands began trembling even more, much to The Constrictor's amusement, and when she glanced down to her choking husband she saw him slowly mouthing words to her. At first she wasn't sure that he was trying to say anything, but then she knew exactly what he wanted her to do.

Kill him.

She shot her eyes back up to The Constrictor, who seemed suddenly unimpressed by her efforts, and she couldn't help but squirm as she realized it was taking everything in her to keep steady. Tears began welling just under her eyes as her lips quivered, and The Constrictor merely shook his head in disgust.

"Yeah, I thought so," he said, clenching his wrist and drawing Cyclops into the air. His legs began kicking and flailing about as he choked on the weight of his body, and as he was about to use his powerful coils to snap the X-Man's neck, he looked to Phoenix one last time. To his surprise, her finger was wrapped around the trigger of the submachine, and before pulling it she suddenly let out a muffled, frustrated scream.

And it was then that a gunshot rang out across the field.

The Constrictor's coils loosened and Cyclops fell to the ground, hacking and gasping for air frantically. He was overwhelmed by the darkness that had began to overcome his vision, but suddenly felt alert as air began to flood his lungs again.

It took him a moment to realize it, but as he drew his hands away from his face and slowly opened his eyes, The Constrictor realized that he wasn't dead. In fact, inches away from his cowering form, the bullet that was meant to rip through his skull at a high-velocity was suspended by an invisible force. He stood frozen, partially in awe and partially in disbelief that the bullet wasn't going to hit him.

Likewise, Cyclops found himself looking up from the ground at The Constrictor and the bullet. He caught on quicker as to what happened and shot a look to his wife, who seemed genuinely shocked at what she had just done, and then he turned back to The Constrictor. The Constrictor's eyes fell upon Cyclops and he clenched his wrist, ready to strike his captive once again with his adamantium coil, but this time Cyclops had the advantage and jabbed a finger into the button of his visor, releasing a powerful optic blast that sent his opponent sailing across the field several yards.

The Constrictor struck the ground hard, the air exploding from his lungs as he bounced a few more times than he wished he had across the field, and rolled into an eventual stop. Cyclops was up on his feet in a moment, a sudden rush of adrenaline overcoming him as he knew that his life and the life of his wife rested on The Constrictor not getting back up, and he broke into a ran for the mercenary.

In a daze and struggling to get back up to his feet, The Constrictor heard Cyclops storming across the field towards his position, only feet away. He gathered all of the strength that he could to rise to his feet on wobbly legs and drew his arm back, then flung an adamantium coil towards his oncoming assailant.

Cyclops ducked under the oncoming adamantium coil and dashed under The Constrictor's arm, positioning himself under it and shooting a right uppercut into The Constrictor's ribs and then a sharp left jab into his stomach. The Constrictor let out a muffled grunt as he again lost his breath and nearly doubled over from the blows. Cyclops rose to his full-height and drew back a fist, quick to capitalize on The Constrictor's vulnerable state, and he sunk a right-cross down into his opponent's jaw.

That last strike was the final one for The Constrictor. He collapsed to the ground under his own weight as his body, wracked with pain, was too overwhelmed to continue the fight. Cyclops nearly collapsed himself, stumbling about The Constrictor's sprawled out form, and he couldn't help but let himself fall straight onto his bottom, exhausted.

"Scott!" Phoenix yelled as she ran towards the two, discarding the submachine gun she had gotten a hold of. She was going to embrace him and help him up, but he waved her away, exhausted and struggling to speak.

"Get off... get off his psi-dampener...!" Cyclops insisted and Phoenix stopped short of reaching her husband, turning to The Constrictor. He was prone and unmoving, only shallow breathing the evidence that he was still alive, and she knelt down to him quickly, pulled off his mask, and ripped off the electronic device attached to his ear. Then she stood up and threw the device as far as she could into the nearby orchards, and looked back down to his fallen form.

The Constrictor's thoughts and mind accessible to her, Phoenix knew the battle was over. She immediately accessed the part of his mind that would allow her to keep him subdued for the time being and manipulated it just so, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Your telekinesis is back," Cyclops remarked through heavy breathes as he struggled to stand, only to find himself bent over with his hands on his thighs. He cleared his throat and stood up straight, clutching his bloodied stomach. "You couldn't have picked a less dramatic way of helping me incapacitate him?" he asked, referring to the way she had stopped the bullet moments before it killed The Constrictor.

Phoenix paused for a moment, looking at her smirking husband letting his words, however laced with deadpan humor, sink in. Then she turned away from her husband and put a hand to her mouth, silent. Cyclops cocked his head to the side and watched as she closed her eyes tightly and hung her head slightly, the realization of what she had almost done to the man who threated her and her husband's life.

Cyclops started to approach her from behind, the adrenaline in his blood thinning and confusion settling in at her sudden behavior. "Jean... what is it?"

She lifted her head back up and opened her tear-filled eyes. "It... It wasn't back..." she stammered, turning to face her husband. "Not when I first opened fire."

Cyclops's face became stone. With her telekinesis gone, she had actually intended to kill The Constrictor in order to save him.

"Jean..." he began, reaching out to her. Phoenix took a slight step back and put a hand up to stop him.

"Don't," she pleaded. "Just don't, okay?"

Cyclops paused and bit his lip, retracting his hand.

"Fine," he said with a dismissive wave. "Is Hank okay? Did you find him?"

Phoenix nodded as she wiped away the tears from under her eyes. "I turned off his pain receptors and gave him an adrenaline boost to keep him conscious, but I couldn't do anything for the wounds with my telekinesis not working. Then I saw... then I came back to help you..."

"But your telekinesis is back now, right? Do you think you can help him now?" Cyclops asked and she nodded once again. "Good. He's our first priority. What about you? Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "I can also sift through The Constrictor's thoughts while I help patch up Hank's wounds. Try to find out why they were after us, what they wanted..."

"I think I already have an idea as to why they were here," Cyclops said with a sigh, and he began to slowly shake his head. "Alright, let's do what we need to do and contact the rest of the team before I pass out."

Cutting through the night's air down the east coast of the United States, the modified SR-71 Blackbird Jet - currently in possession of the X-Men - moved at speeds that rivaled even the most sophisticated, technologically advanced aircrafts of the day. On board, a silver maned African-American woman - Ororo Munroe, co-leader of the X-Men - called for her team to assemble near a computer console.

"Everyone gather around," Storm said. Two of the X-Men moved up from their seats and moved towards her, but one remained in the cockpit. "Rogue?"

"Just puttin' the jet on autopilot," Marie Charleston, or Rogue, explained as she finished doing just that. She took off her headset and sat up from the pilot's seat, placing the headset on a hook overhead before joining the rest of the team.

Storm stood waiting before a console as Rogue approached, a map of the mid-east coast displayed on a monitor at her back, and the three X-Men before her.

"What's up?" Bobby Drake - founding member of the X-Men known as Iceman - asked, hands on his hips. Wolverine, whose only real name was Logan, stood furthest from Storm, paying half-attention as he lit up a cigar and took a puff.

"I've been looking over Cerebro's logs with Logan, trying to determine where we should begin our search for Scott and the others," Storm explained. She moved aside so that her team could see the widescreen monitor and motioned towards a red dot centered in a large circle encompassing a small portion of Pennsylvania.

"It looks like we lost the Aurora's signal around this quadrant here. Assuming it was a crash landing, they should be within a few hundred yards of this location, which appears to be mostly fields and orchards in the countryside."

"And what if it wasn't a crash landing?" Rogue thought aloud. "For all we know, everything from Air Force interception and forced escort to Shi'ar abduction and alien probing could've happened t' the three of 'em out there."

"That's a possibility, but a whole different scenario altogether. First, we need to search the possible crash si -- " Storm began, but was promptly cut off by a muffled, low-quality ring tone emitting from Iceman's pocket.

{{ -- Oh, mother dear, we're not the fortunate ones. And girls, they want to have fuh-uhhn. Oh girls, they just want to have fuh-uhhn... }}

"Heh, um... sorry, that's me," Iceman said, trying to resist the effeminate urge to blush profusely as he reached into his pocket. Wolverine shot him a look, bearing a mix of disapproval and embarrassment on his rugged mug.

"Cyndi Lauper?" Rogue asked with a giggle.

"Close. Dazzler's cover," Iceman replied with a wink. Wolverine was still staring at him indignantly and when Iceman looked to him, he just shook his head and sighed, taking another drag off of his cigar. "What? I'm just trying to show my support for the girl."

Shrugging off the uncomfortable attention, Iceman flipped the phone open and put it to his ear, clearing his throat. "You're on the mic, what's your beef?"

Storm crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the side, tapping her forearm impatiently as her teammate listened to a voice on the other line of his cell. Iceman's brow furrowed intently and he lowered the phone from his head, covering the speaker.

"You're gonna be glad I took this," he said as he held out the phone in front of the assembled X-Men, pressing a button on the phone. "Go ahead, Jeanie."

His last three words drew the attention of the other three X-Men, particularly Wolverine, and they all drew in closer to the phone.

{{ Thanks, Bobby, }} Phoenix's voice said. {{ Hey everyone. }}

Storm directed her voice to the phone, speaking loudly as to be sure that Phoenix could hear her over the jet's interior noises. "Jean, it's Ororo here. Is everyone alright? What happened?"

{{ We're... as good as can be expected, }} Phoenix replied, her voice taut and careful. {{ The Byron Agency shot us down somewhere over Pennsylvania on our way back to the mansion and ambushed us at the crash site in a field. We fended them off as well as we could, but Hank is going to need medical attention as soon as possible. }}

"The Byron Agency?" Wolverine muttered, his gravelly voice deepening as he let Phoenix's story sink in. "What'n the hell were they after?"

{{ We're not exactly sure. I've psi-scanned a few members of their assault team, but it looks like they were intentionally left in the dark. Scott thinks it has something to do with our meeting with Val Cooper. }}

Storm rubbed the tension from her forehead and then reached a hand out to Iceman, who passed her his cell. "Alright, Jean," she said as she drew the phone closer to her face. "Try to stay on the line if you can. We're going to try to triangulate your position using the cell towers in your area, then we'll pick you up."

{{ Got it, }} Phoenix replied. {{ We're standing by now. }}

Storm put the cell phone on hold and turned to Rogue, handing it to her with one command. "Rogue, I need you to triangulate their position."

"On it," Rogue nodded, taking the phone and turning to a nearby console.

"Iceman, take the controls and prepare to adjust our heading."

"Aye aye, cap'n," Iceman quipped with a salute before rushing off.

"And Wolverine?" Storm asked. He drew his stogie away from his mouth and nodded to her curiously, to which she balked, "Put out that filthy cigar."

Wolverine grumbled something incoherent underneath his breath and lifted up his foot, putting out the cigar on the heel of his boot. "Leave your visor at home and do somethin' different with your hair today, Slim?"

"Not quite," Storm said with a wry smile as she moved back to the large monitor displaying the map she had been studying moments earlier. She typed in a few commands and caused the monitor to zoom in on Pennsylvania, specifically the crash landing radius of the Aurora jet.

At the very crash site that Storm was looking at a digital representation of, Phoenix dropped the arm holding the cell to her side and turned to Cyclops, who was standing with his back to her as he looked over the field.

"They're tracing our location right now," Phoenix said with a sigh of relief. Her husband just nodded, stoic, contemplative. It made her uncomfortable. "Scott? What is it?"

Cyclops turned around to face his wife, eyes narrowed behind his visor. "You read that mercenary's mind yourself, right? Cassidy's still in the area."

"You can't possibly be thinking of going after him," Phoenix remarked, but Cyclops brushed passed her and moved towards their fallen comrade as he rested near the Aurora's wreckage. She followed behind him closely.

"What if I am?" Cyclops said under his breath, determined.

"Hank's in no condition to make the trip, and we can't take on the Byron Agency if we split up - not even if we wanted to!" Phoenix tried to reason.

"I guess we'll see about that, won't we?" the X-Men's leader deadpanned, much to the horror of his wife, as they came upon their friend.

Beast turned to face them curiously as they approached, having only caught the last part of their conversation. The bullet holes in his backside had been gushing blood only moments ago, which was distracting enough as it was, but the pain from several cracked ribs was quite possibly more agonizing.

While he had always been one of the most physically impressive and resilient members of the X-Men, the mild healing factor he possessed was the result of his self-imposed genetic mutation. It had never matched the rapid and seamless efficiency of Wolverine's own healing factor, and while its exact capabilities were rarely tested it was quite possibly the only thing - save for his muscular physique and sheer force of will - that had been keeping him alive after The Constrictor's assault on him.

It was this healing factor that Cyclops was counting on.

"Hank," Cyclops started as he knelt down beside his friend. "I know you're in bad condition at the moment, but I've got to be blunt. Are you dying?"

Beast groaned and his blue-furred face stiffened. "Does bleeding out of the exterior intercostal and gluteus medius count?"

"I'm serious, Hank," Cyclops insisted. "We may be able to corner Cassidy and put an end to all this, bring them to justice, but only if you can survive the trip with nothing but the treatment the Blackbird's med unit can provide."

Phoenix drew a hand to her head and closed her eyes, fighting the frustration and disgust that she was suddenly feeling, as Beast grew quiet and began to seriously consider the leader's words. Cyclops was always a persistent and stubborn leader, but he was never one to jeopardize a close friend and teammate for the sake of 'catching the bad guy.' She knew it wasn't quite as simple as that, but it may as well have been.

Ever since the Byron Agency had struck and captured their teammates, Cyclops had become adamant on bringing them and Sean Cassidy down, even after their teammates had been returned to them and the public front of the company was destroyed. Had Cassidy's betrayal and the Byron Agency's motives warranted a darker turn for her husband? Was this only a phase that would pass?

No, she knew that wasn't the case. Cyclops had gradually become more radical and extreme after Professor Xavier's death. It was just becoming more apparent now with each mission, as the stakes became higher and higher.

{{ Heya Jean? }} a Southern voice returned on the cell phone, interrupting Phoenix's moment of reflection and drawing Cyclops and Beast's attention. {{ Rogue here. }}

Phoenix had almost forgotten that she was holding the cell phone with Storm's team on the other line. She lifted the phone up, still on speaker, and replied with, "Go ahead, Rogue. Scott and Hank are with me."

{{ We've got your position. Hang on for 'Ro, }} Rogue said over the cell, faint chattering in the background of the call. Cyclops looked down to Beast, cocking his head to the side.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you in?"

"In like Flynn, fearless," Beast retorted, weakly.

{{ Jean, it's me, }} Storm chimed in. {{ We've got the coordinates to your location and should be closing in on you soon. I'm having Bobby contact the local emergency services and prepare for Hank's arrival. }}

Cyclops stood up from his kneel and walked over to Phoenix, responding loud enough for Storm to hear him over the speaker phone.

"Storm, it's Scott. Belay that order," he said, shooting a look towards his wife. "Just prepare the med unit on board the Blackbird. We have another destination to go to before we return to the mansion. I'll explain on the way."

The sound of twisting and grating iron roared throughout the abandoned warehouse as the building's large shipping-bay doors were bombarded by a large and powerful, ruby-colored beam of force. With a loud, metallic creaking sound, the doors fell from their hinges and crashed to the concrete floor of the warehouse with a violent thwoom like sound. A thick cloud of dust was thrown into the air as a result.

Standing in the newly formed doorway were the X-Men, Cyclops and his glowing ruby quartz visor at the forefront of the team. As the dust settled before them, the first thing every member of Cyclops's squad noticed was the man restrained to a chair in the middle of the dark warehouse underneath a single light. He was missing his shoes and socks and wearing only a pair of dirty slacks, a bloody white dress shirt, and a burlap sack over his head, concealing his identity.

"Jean, you're with me," Cyclops said to his wife before speaking up to the rest of the team. "Everyone else spread out and clear the area. Stay in touch through our psi-webs and let me know if you find anything."

Storm, Iceman, Rogue, and Wolverine began to move away from Cyclops and Phoenix's sides into different directions, scattering themselves over the abandoned warehouse, as Cyclops and Phoenix cautiously approached the man strapped to the chair. Phoenix attempted to reach out to the man's conscious mind with her telepathy as they came upon him, only to stop short in sudden horror and realization.

"Oh my God," Phoenix gasped. "Scott..."

Ignoring his wife's words, Cyclops moved upon the restrained man and pulled the burlap sack off of his head, revealing the bruised, battered, and bloodied face of the middle-aged Secretary of Mutant Affairs. His head lulled to the side and he let out a groggy moan as the closest thing to fresh air washed over his senses.

Cyclops looked away from the sight before him and clenched his hand into a fist, taking a few steps back from the man. He bit down on his lip and sighed, projecting his thoughts out to the sole occupant of the Blackbird. "Hank, turn on the comms line and contact emergency services. We need an ambulance over here as soon as possible."

"What's happened?" Beast asked over their telepathic connection.

"We found Robert Kelly," Cyclops explained, glancing back to the former senator. "It looks like they've beaten him pretty badly, possibly as a means of torture."

"You don't know the half of it," Phoenix said uneasily. Cyclops broke his connection with Beast and turned to his wife as she closed her eyes, continuing her telepathic scan. "The Byron Agency's telepaths went through his mind and just tore out everything that they needed, everything that they could get out of him."

Phoenix winced and swallowed back the lump in her throat, her eyes still closed as she continued to explain what she was finding.

"I can feel... I can feel everything that happened to him..."

"What?!" Cyclops balked in disbelief, shooting a look to Kelly and then back to his wife. "Shouldn't he have had mental defenses and psi-implants to protect him? He was the Secretary of Mutant Affairs, for Christ's sake!"

"And Interim President of the United States," Phoenix added as she opened her eyes and put a hand to her brow, shaking her forehead. "He had better defenses than Cooper, but whoever extracted his memories had no regard for his well-being whatsoever. His consciousness is a mess... fragmented..."

Cyclops sighed in exasperation and returned his attention to Kelly, putting a hand on his shoulder and another on his face, shaking him slightly.

Just earlier that evening he had instructed his wife to conduct an evasive telepathic scan into the mind of Val Cooper, Interim Director of the Commission on Superhuman Activities, despite the potential risks involved of invading a mind with nigh-impregnable mental defenses. She had been fine thanks to Phoenix's skill and precision as a telepath, but now Cyclops was seeing first hand the worst case scenario of such a dangerous show of force and invasion of privacy.

"Secretary Kelly? Can you hear me, Secretary Kelly?" he asked urgently, continuing to shake Kelly. Cyclops then peeled back Kelly's eyelids to check his pupils, examining them thoroughly. "Jesus. Can he even hear me, Jean?"

"I honestly don't know. I don't want to do more than just a surface scan of his mind," Phoenix explained reluctantly, biting her lip and watching as her husband attempted to revive the man. "I might... the scan could do even more harm in his present condition..."

Cyclops shook his head and then began patting Kelly on the cheek, still trying to get him to come around. Kelly began to groan and move his head slightly, prompting Cyclops to straighten out the man's head so that they were facing eye to eye.

"Secretary Kelly," Cyclops said attentively. Kelly opened his eyes in response to the sound of his name, however barely was he able to keep them open. "The people who did this... where did they go? Do you know?"

Kelly's cracked, swollen lips parted slightly and he struggled with his words. "Avuh... Avenn... gher..." was all that he could utter.

"Avenge her?" Phoenix asked, uncertain.

"Avenger," Cyclops muttered under his breath. He stood up to his full height and turned around to face his wife, brow furrowed in perplexity. "He said Avenger..."

NEXT ISSUE: The West Coast Avengers are being honored aboard a decommissioned tanker in the San Francisco bay for their efforts to defend the city! When Beast attends with Storm as his date in order to follow a lead on the Byron Agency's end game, is he a guest-of-honor or an unexpected party-crasher? Find out next issue!

"ON THE EDGE" Conclusion Written by Cory Wiegel

"ON THE EDGE"
Conclusion

Written by Cory Wiegel