Cammy’s bloody eyes reflected confusion as he realized he wasn’t lying. “Yes, but … it had to be you, because who the fucking else could it be?”

Bob shook his head, and couldn’t help but grin. Gods, he was going to enjoy this. “Let me break it down for you. You convinced Jean she had killed you, and started subtly pulling her strings. You insinuated yourself into her as … what? Her own dark side? Surely she was loving the power - who wouldn’t? - and you started moving her to do things you wanted. All well and good. But then you started suggesting to her that she hurt Logan, and made her believe she really wanted to do it. Maybe she even believes that for a little while. But when it’s go time, she has a change of heart.

“You forgot she was a telepath, Cam, and she had been in Logan’s head a few times. Enough times to pick up on the fact that some of my energy was almost always there, and a little thing I told Logan, about being able to use something in him to enhance my own powers. While she was sticking to the main game plan, she deviated; she collected some of my power using her power - actually, yours - and rerouted it through Logan’s mind. Did you also forget she was a telekinetic, and growing accustomed to handling power with her mind? She created the feedback loop, perhaps to stop her from hurting him, or perhaps to “burn out” that part of her that wanted to hurt him. You made a stupid error, Cam. You were so arrogant, you thought you could control her easily, and that the puny Human had nothing she could use against you.

“But Logan was right - you drongo, you picked a humanitarian. And then you tried to make that humanitarian hurt a man she cared about before you had completely subverted her will.” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “She fucked you, mate.

“I didn’t kill you. Jean did.”

14

It was funny how no one ever warned you how difficult it was to find parking for a jet. Well, at least it was night; darkness gave you some leeway.

They eventually put it down in an abandoned lot with a few scrub trees that would hopefully screen them from view of the Arkham Industrial complex, just three fifths of a mile down the road. It was far enough out in a rural enclave (just abutting a more suburban outskirt of Toronto) that there was no one around to witness it, although that also meant they’d stick out if anyone did come along. There was just no way to win sometimes.

Yasha offered to go on ahead, and scout the terrain. “If there’s anything with a pulse in the area, I’ll know.”

He nodded and let her go, and she did that vampire thing, melting into the dark like it was a physical object she could part and reseal, a scrim of night.

“How did she do that?” Piotr asked quietly.

“What did she mean if there’s anything with a pulse in the area?” Leonie inquired.

The other kids just looked slightly uncomfortable, so he figured she’d told them what she was. “It’s a figure of speech,” he said, not wanting to know if what Angel once told him - about a vampire being able to smell blood from a mile away - was actually true.

He didn’t like them all being one conspicuous group (apparently no one besides Yasha knew anything about stealth), but he wasn’t going to split them up until he had some idea of what they were facing. He was already regretting bringing the kids, and nothing had happened yet.

They stayed off the road, for all the good that would do, as there was nothing along the way save for weedy lots, and something that looked like it was being developed when the workers just gave up on it.

They were in sight of the complex - a big, sprawling collection of cinder block buildings and tin walled warehouses that made it look not a little like an abandoned pulp mill, surrounded by a thirty foot high chain link fence, topped with barb wire. There were no lights on, no obvious guards; it looked abandoned, which made him instantly suspicious. “Anything seem familiar?” he asked Leonie.

She was looking around, her face contracted into an expression of deep thought. “I’m … I’m not entirely certain.”

He smelled Yasha long before she melted out of the dark, joining them once more, but the other’s weren’t quite as prepared. Rogue actually clapped a hand over her own mouth to suppress a surprised yelp.

“It appears derelict,” she reported. “But the fence is highly electrified, and I believe part of its locking mechanism is adamantium. Also, I smell infrared trip beams, and I’m sure there are Humans somewhere inside, just keeping a low profile.”

“How do you do that?” Piotr asked, astounded by her abrupt re-appearance. “Is that your power?”

“Smell infrared beams?” Bobby repeated. “They have a scent?”

Logan nodded. “Concentrated ozone scent, with a tinge of incinerated dust.”

“Is there anything you can’t smell?” Bobby wondered.

“Not really.”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” Yasha added. “There’s a reek of paint thinner that gets overwhelming the closer you get. I think they’re deliberately trying to cover their smell.”

Okay, that was very suspicious. Added to all the rest, it equal troubled on a major scale. “Okay. We have to assume we’re expected.”

“Not we,” Rogue corrected. “You. We don’t have super smelling abilities.”

True enough. “How much voltage in the fence? Can you guess?” He asked.

Yasha gave him a strange look out of the corner of her eye. “It sounds like it’s cycling near lethal, which means it will probably just sting you. But I can take care of it from inside, as long as you guys can be patient.”

“Inside? How do you expect to get past the fence and avoid the beams?” Only in retrospect did Logan realize it was a stupid question.

She smiled at him, dark eyes twinkling like gems, and said, “Hang back and watch how it’s done, Human.” She then ran off silently, headed towards the fence.

“Why does she keep specifically mentioning Humans?” Piotr asked. “Aren’t we all Human?”

Brendan coughed, but no one said anything.

As it was, Yasha provided a perfect distraction. About a meter and a half away from the fence, she jumped - straight up, in that vampiric, gravity defying way of hers, and easily cleared the top of the fence (well, it wasn’t as tall as a building, was it) and landed on her feet on the inside of the complex, her impact kicking up a little dust and illuminating the ruby red beams of the infrared security traps.

“Holy shit,” Piotr gasped. “Exactly how powerful is she?”

“Inhumanly so,” he said, inwardly groaning at the pun. But it was true.

Yasha had immediately disappeared from view, and as they got closer, Logan could hear the hum of electricity thrumming through the fence, smell the charge in the dry, cold air, feel it make the hair on his arms stand on end.

“What is she gonna do?” Bobby asked quietly.

“Probably shut the power off at the source,” Logan guessed. It was a good bet, and Yasha was no slouch in the tactical arena; she’d probably shut power off to the entire complex, if that was possible.

“How will she find the source?” Leonie wondered skeptically.

“Her kind are born hunters,” Brendan offered, speaking for the first time since they left the jet. “She can find anything.”

“Her kind?” Piotr repeated, confused and on the verge of being offended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But once again, Yasha came to the rescue. The electric hum died, and even though it was just a background noise to the others, they obviously noticed the sudden lack of sound. “Did she do that?” Rogue asked.

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Logan said, and as he approached the fence, he popped the claws on one hand. Rather than fuck with the gate, he simply slashed through the fence, large enough to accommodate them all. As he stepped through the new hole, Yasha walked out of the darkness to meet him, her coat billowing behind her like a cape. “I found an outside box and ripped out all the wires, but if they’re an evil organization
worth their salt, they’ll have an emergency back up only accessible from the inside. We’ll probably have only a couple minutes before they get everything powered up again.”

He nodded. “Most likely Human placement?”

“Straight on ahead, and slightly off to the right.”

He held out his hand to stop the group, and said quietly, “This is a big place, so let’s branch out. Yasha, take Piotr, Leonie, Rogue, and Bobby on the left side of the complex; Bren, you’re with me.” Well, having a demon along - even if only half - was always useful, and he figured everyone else could look after Leonie.

“Hold it,” Leonie and Yasha both said at the same time. They uncomfortably glanced at each other, but Yasha recovered first. “That’s way too uneven a split. I know you’re among the world’s best ass kickers, but it’s still too risky for you.”

“And I’m not going with them,” Leonie protested.

He rolled his eyes. “What happened to no lip?” But they had no time to argue; as soon as the electricity kicked back in, they would know the perimeter had been breached. Okay, so if he took Leonie (argh), Brendan alone might not be able to ride herd on her, and besides, they were all “physical” power mutants (save for Leonie’s static powers, which were limited to scrambling telepaths and electronic equipment). They probably needed someone with a projection power (which was Bobby in this group), or Yasha, who, while not having a projection power of any sort, was as good as anyone who had one. She could leap tall buildings in a single bound, and could probably do that Matrix “run along the wall” thing without any CGI guys to help. Even Human laws of physics didn’t count for demons, which was probably why so many of them were so fucking dangerous. (Did her throwing knives count as a projection ability?) But he couldn’t have him and Yasha on the same team; as far as he was concerned, they were the best, most experienced fighters here, and it was unconscionable to keep them on the same unit. It was also bad tactics. “Fine, Leonie, Bobby, you’re with me. Yasha, keep them intact.”

She gave him a slightly sour look, but nodded, accepting the logic of it.

Rogue, for her part, looked a little hurt, possibly because he didn’t pick her for his team (well, it wasn’t personal - she was a physical power too, until she “took” someone else’s), while Bobby looked slightly startled that he had been chosen. “Uh … okay.”

“Whoever finds nothing joins the other team. If there’s trouble, send a signal.”

“What kind of signal?” Piotr wondered, looking around as if to check for flares.

Logan shrugged, wondering why he had to work with such an inexperienced team. “Blow something up; throw someone through a wall. Just get our attention.”

Piotr stared at him blankly. “You’re joking, right?”

“Same for you, tough guy,” Yasha said, still scowling at being stuck with two newbies, only one of whom knew she was actually a vampire.

He motioned to Brendan and Bobby to follow him - Leonie was already breathing down his neck - and told Piotr, without looking back, “Armor up. Don’t get caught short.”

Logan heard him mutter to Yasha, “Do we even know there’s anyone here?”

But of course there was someone here. The Organization loved these kind of “duck blinds”, things that looked like something else, these creepy, abandoned places with strangely sophisticated security. It was all part of the plan, part of the routine, trying hard to be sheep, to be harmless - to be anything but what they were.

As they walked towards the main building, which looked strangely like a converted barn, he tensed, and tried to narrow all his senses, all his thoughts, on what might be waiting for them up ahead.

Because in a world as fucked up as this one, it could be anything.

15

The look on Cammy’s face was priceless. “No,” he finally said, anger making his aura predominately purple. “You’re a fucking liar, Bob! You’re just making shit up to humiliate me! It ain’t fuckin’ gonna work, you outcast piece of shit - “

“The problem, as I see it, is the same problem that led to you leaving Earth before one of the big cheeses forced you off, Cam - you’re a stuck up motherfucker. You were always better than everyone else, mortal and otherwise, and since you were, you could never be bested. That kind of thinking makes you lazy, Cam; it makes you sloppy. Did you immediately forget that Eris not only bested you, she destroyed your realm? You could be beaten, and badly - did that not sink in? Or did you think your only peril was only from other gods?”

Cammy’s bloody eyes were starting to melt down his face, a thick crimson trail that left bloody holes in his head. “Coming from you, that’s really rich. You picked your avatar for a reason, Bob - he’s a damn sight more dangerous than you could ever hope to be. Are you jealous? Do you covet his ability to just cut the fucking bullshit?”

“Why’d you take him then? If you hadn’t the strength to switch avatars or brainwash him?”

“To kill him, asshole. Itchy was gonna distract you and build me up while I took out your fucking avatar.”

Which is where Logan’s decision to try and “tempt” Cammy into picking him over Jean had actually saved his life; Cammy could not pass up the taste of good old torment and fear - what god could? So Logan actually bought time with his own emotional agony; smart boy. But then again, he probably knew sadists like the back of his hand. “Then, if you ever got strong enough, come for me?”

He scoffed, his eyes dripping down his face, pooling on the permafrost. “Why? The fun was gonna be watching you suffer as I killed your whole fucking family next.”

“Big words from the melting Wicked Witch of the West.”

“You don’t actually think it’s over, do you? You don’t think you’ve won? You’ve lost, better than I could have ever planned for.” His aura was bleeding golden now, a sure sign of the end. The light at the end of the tunnel was often just the murder of someone else’s god. “I transmogrified her to survive in the other realms, Bob; I’m in her cells, her DNA, and my power can’t be removed. And without me to regulate it, it’s all hers.” He chuckled acidly. “You know what happens when a Human gets god like powers, Bob. They’re on a lower plane for a reason, and you should know, ‘cause didn’t you have to wipe out one once? Wasn’t he a relative of yours?”

“Shut up,” he demanded. Whether Cammy was dying or not, he was not going to have him dredge up things better off forgotten.

But of course he didn‘t. Why would Cam start being reasonable now? “Stupid, shitty Humans - they worship us because we live on a higher plane, and they never understand that we are the epitome of creation, all right: we are pure corruption, insanity distilled to its highest form. They are petty and weak, because they can never aspire to our depths of depravity, although some of ‘em give it a good try, don’t they? We have to be corrupt; we keep the inherently corrupt universes running, and they are by nature damaged, flawed entities, and yet never corrupt enough to keep up with us. They look into the abyss, and they fall; it fills them, and it rules them. As soon as they realize there’s no grand design, just an old war between Highers that don’t even give a fuck about them, they never can handle it, can they?” He snickered, a sound that grew into a mocking, smug laugh that seemed to echo throughout this frigid, sparkling hell. “And in the end, the humanitarian is worse, isn’t it? It’s the ones who think they’re doing what’s best that damn them all.”

Cammy’s meltdown came to its abrupt end then. He seemed to explode into a million photonic fragments of prismatic light, a beautiful cascade of shifting light, quickly absorbed into the ground as if sucked down by a vacuum.

For a damn good reason - what were the realms but physical embodiments of the gods that created them? Which meant that what little there had been left of Cammy had just been absorbed into -

The ground shook, hard, as if a giant had just stomped his foot. A very good possibility. “Bob,” a deep voice like the peal of thunder roared. “What are you doing here, you disgusting little worm?”

He rubbed his eyes, and pasted on his best smile as he turned to face the god of frost, Ymir. ‘Ymmy, hey, didn’t realize this was your place,” he lied, as he found himself staring at two thick white pillars. Actually, they were legs, but he was afraid to look up, for fear that Ymir hadn’t bothered with the formality of clothing. There were just some things you were better off not seeing. “What say I just nip off, huh?”

But he knew there was no way in hell Ymir was going to let him off that easy.

Man, it was always just one thing after another.

***

Getting in was no problem, which was just something else that was wrong with this picture.

The place looked like it had been cleaned out in a hurry too, and Human scents lingered, even though the reek of paint thinner was strong enough to wipe out a lot of subtle nuances. It was making his eyes water.

Leonie sneezed, and wiped her forearm across her nose. “Why the fuck would they stink up the place so much?”

“You don’t remember any of these scents, do ya?”

“No. I can hardly smell anything.”

“That’s why,” Logan said, blinking back tears. God, why paint thinner? Why not compost or something with less acetate? Really sliced through the sinuses like razors. But that was the point, wasn’t it? It also meant they expected Leonie to work her way back here.

Maybe not just Leonie?

They were walking down a corridor just like any other corridor in this drafty, cold, reeking place, their footsteps echoing against the metal, when Brendan asked, “So none of this is familiar to you?”

Obviously aimed at Leonie. “What do you think?” She snapped, a little more harshly than she should have. “It’s just an empty tin can that stinks of chemicals. It could be anywhere! It means nothing to me.”

But Logan could grasp scents beyond the paint thinner, and he was starting to smell a spike in her fear, her heart pounding triple time in anxiety. If she didn’t remember anything specifically, there was still something in this place triggering a fight or flight response in her.

Something in her was remembering at the very least a place like this - and the memories were far from pleasant.  He knew the feeling.

That’s when he noticed a new smell, so fain the almost missed it. What the hell was it? There was a noise too, just at the threshold of his hearing …

“Hey, is it warmer in here?” Bobby wondered.

Logan stopped, glanced at the stark metal walls and floor of this hall, and saw absolutely nothing.  But he still smelled … ozone?

Metal walls.

“Out, now,” he roared, spinning on the kids and shoving them backwards, into the adjoining corridor.

But that’s when Logan heard the surge, before he even tasted the electricity in his mouth, and he knew damn well it was too late.