Logan winced from her shouting in his ear, but he didn't slow the bike, even as it roared around the corner at a speed that would generally be considered unsafe under the best of circumstances. "I don't need it," he shouted back. "I can see where I'm goin'!" Although really all he could see was the shapes of buildings, parked cars, and various alleys and side streets, shadows of varying shades and depths, but there was more then sight telling him where he was. Scent was pretty helpful, as every block had its own dominant smell, and he knew he wasn't going in pointless circles, but he wasn't going to explain that to her. He was tired of explaining things to her.

"I do! I can't see a fucking thing!"

They not only had the road to themselves, but the sidewalks as well. The big bugs were effectively keeping people inside, although they hadn't encountered any yet. He could hear them - and smell them - but they always seemed to be elsewhere.He wondered if they knew his scent now, or if half ass thought it was pointless.Of course it was, but the big bads were rarely that smart. Obviously he had something else in mind.

He somehow smelled the cordite before he heard the big boom of a shotgun blast, Dopplered but growing louder as they approached,and he realized there must have been more shooting earlier, but somehow they missed it.

"Why are you slowing down?" She protested, her grip around his waist growing tighter.

"'Cause." He was curious to see who was fighting back; so far, he'd been it. Of course he might be sorry, but he could deal with it. It wouldn't be the first stupid thing he'd done tonight.

A big scorpion snake was staggering in the center of the street, black blood squirting from the giant hole where the left side of its head used to be. It was still alive though, partial head seemingly writhing as it backed up and retreated into an alley across the way, its tail scraping bricks from the walls.

The person on the sidewalk holding the double barreled shotgun was a woman with spiky blonde hair with pink highlights, face marked with livid bruises, reeking of fear and sweat. Her smell was familiar, though. As he idled the bike, they stared at each other, and finally she said, "You."

"We know each other?" He was sure they did, but he wasn't sure how at the moment.

She lowered the shotgun as her eyes remained wide with surprise and lingering fear."You saved me outside the bar, before everything went ... surreal."

He cocked his head, sure it was some kind of joke. "No, that was a guy."

"Yeah." She glanced sheepishly down at the sidewalk, coloring slightly, embarrassed. "That's my mutation."

For a second he wasn't sure he heard her right. "You're mutation is you can turn into a man?"

She nodded. "I can morph genders, yeah."

"Didn't I see an "X Files" like that?" Clia wondered.

Logan shrugged. It did sound like something they'd do. "You okay?"

The gender bender nodded. "I had a concussion and stuff, but nothing was broken."

Logan nodded. "Great." He never knew what to say in situations like this.

"Thanks," the occasional female added.That just made him feel that much more uncomfortable.Maybe she ( ? Did he really know what gender was his/her first one? ) knew that, because she went on. "D'ya know what's up?"

"Got an idea, yeah. Gonna try and fix it."

"Oh. Kind of a troubleshooter, huh? Is this mutant related?"

He didn't know if he liked being called a troubleshooter, but how could that be offensive. "No, I just wanna get the fuck out of this town."

She snorted a mild laugh. "I hear that."

"Look, kid - "

"My name is Sun," she interrupted. "And I'm not a kid. I'm nineteen."

He stared at her as Clia scoffed. "Sure you are honey," the Belial said sarcastically. "Me too. I've been nineteen for almost ten years now."

Sun looked up and frowned at Clia, eyes flashing like light off steel, and then glanced back at the sidewalk, as if trying to read the future in bug guts. "Well, seventeen."

"Is Sun a nickname?" He wondered. Nothing about her looked Asian, although, with mutants, race became a moot point.

"Yeah. The name's Sunshine."

Clia hooted derisively, but Logan just grimaced in sympathy. "Parents hippies?" He guessed.

Sun winced in psychic pain. "I spent the first eight years of my life in a yurt."

Oh ouch.As if being a gender switching mutant in a redneck town overrun with giant bugs wasn't bad enough. "Look, Sun, good job with the rifle, but I suggest you get inside, somewhere safe. Okay?"

"Well, that was the plan. I just took the gun for protection on the way back, ya know?"

"Took the gun?" He repeated. A guilty look flashed over her face, and he knew then she had stolen it. He guessed she was a runaway, or some kind of street kid - she was way too resourceful, in spite of getting caught by those redneck thugs, to be just a random kid with an unfortunate name. "Sun, where'd you get it?"

"From this guy I know -"

"I don't care that you stole it," he interrupted curtly. "I just need to know, kiddo. We may need the firepower."

"We what?" Clia asked, sounding not at all happy about that.

But Sun gazed him curiously, and he knew she was going to tell her "hero" whatever he wanted to know.

***

"Setting a trap. You do know what one is, don't you?" Sy sneered. His left side was slowly starting to fill itself in - there was a shoulder now, although the arm still hadn't formed, nor had anything else from the waist down. He was still mostly a right side alone, and it hadn't gotten any less creepy.

"Why? Just for this fuckin' mutie?" He still didn't see why, if Sy could cast them all into unreality, couldn't he handle a single psycho mutant?

Sy stopped at the front door just as Kevin climbed onto the final riser, and his black eye narrowed to a slit as he regarded him with something that might have been contempt if he could form a full expression. "He's not alone. I don't know if his companion is mutant or not. You stay here and take care of her."

"What?" This was the first he'd heard of that. "W - what if the stupid bitch shoots death rays out her fingers or somethin'?"

"We don't know she is a mutant, and considering the population density of the town, I deem it unlikely. Besides, don't let her see you, and use that. You can use that, can't you?"

Kevin followed his eyes to the side table, where the apartment's communal telephone ( like anyone living in this shithole could afford their own phone ) sat, and beside it, resting on the tattered Ontario phone book, was a fully automatic black Glock, looking as sleek and deadly as a shark. "Whoa," he gasped, moving to pick it up. "Where did that come from?"

"Consider it a present. You do know how to shoot it with unerring accuracy."

"No I don't. I've never -"

"Yes, you do," he insisted, giving him a hard glare.

Oh right - belief colors reality."Yes, I do," he agreed, and tried to believe it.

He picked it up, surprised by the weight of it in his hand. It seemed too compact to be this heavy. He tried to mentally convince himself he was a perfect marksman - James Bond had nothing on him. He wondered if imaging Ursula Andress in a white bikini standing beside him would work.

"Stay inside. The bitch'll probably come in after us; getting the drop on her should be no problem, no matter her power."

"Where the hell are you goin'?" He wondered. Was the bastard, now that he was partially formed, thinking he could skip out on him?

He made a noise that could have been a sigh under other circumstances. "To take care of the other mutant. If a fight isn't immediately wise, then I intend to soften him up. That way, when I can kill him, he'll be ripe for it."

"How do you plan to do that?" Sy had made it sound like the mutie was indestructible or something.

"We all want something, Kevin. We all have weaknesses that will cut us off at the knees and undermine everything we believe in."

"We do?" He knew he didn't, but it was clear Sy loved the sound of his own ghostly voice.

"Yes.If I can't make him scared, I will make him hurt. Ultimately it's the same  thing." And with that, Sy went outside, gliding into the deep, artificial dark.

But if the guy was indestructible, how was he gonna make him hurt? And what the hell did that have to do with whatever the fuck he was talking about before?

Kevin was a bit disappointed. He had thought some kind of demon lord would be pretty smart. But apparently they could be just as dumb as anything else.

18

Bob pivoted fast on his heels just as Fenrir - and his animal pals - seemed to materialize out of thin air, and just like that, Bob went flying. It was like he'd been hit by an invisible wrecking ball; he just went instantly airborne, thrown out and away from Fenrir, and he landed with a tremendous thud on a Mazda parked in front of the used book exchange, crumpling its roof like tin foil and blowing out its windows before he fell off it to the sidewalk.

The car had been mashed as if hit with a semi going sixty. Scott couldn't believe it. What, did Fenrir send Bob flying at Mach speed? He must have for impact to do that much damage.But of course that would mean if Bob had internal organs, they'd be crushed to a fine pulp, and he'd be the equivalent of a boneless humanoid, as his entire skeleton would be shattered.

Scott tried to look at Fenrir's face, but Bob hadn't been lying - it was impossible. He was able to bring his eyes up to chest height, where his broad shoulders met his thick neck, but then the pain in the back of his eyes became unbearable, as if someone was jamming hot needles into his optic nerves. His body wouldn't let him look any further, although he did get an impression of blazing yellow eyes, like miniature suns crammed in his eye sockets.

But what he could see was bad enough. He looked like a thick ( as in muscular ) bodied man whose clothes were so black and sleek they looked like oil, with a long coat that flapped behind him like restless wings. At his heels were two huge black wolves - hellhounds? - and for some inexplicable reason he had a huge raven, as big as an eagle, perched on his shoulder. Okay, so Bob said they weren't real animals but extensions of Fenrir ... how again?

It looked like Fenrir turned back ... and then Scott remembered the people that Bob had left behind. Oh shit.

But before he could lunge from his hiding place and fire, Fenrir's dogs made a strange noise - a half growl, half whimper that someone had thrown a lot of reverb on - and Scott saw beyond the painfully black figure that there was nothing but tables and racks."Simulacrums!" Fenrir roared, and suddenly all of it - the tables, the racks of clothes, the displays of bootleg tapes - all erupted into instantaneous pyres of flame, so intensely hot Scott could feel it from here.Everything flammable seemed to vaporize in a heartbeat, but even without material to feed them, the fires were still burning.

Fenris turned back towards Bob, still laying on broken glass beside the junked car, and simply held out a hand, making a slow fist. Scott didn't think anything was happening until what was left of the car seemed to crumple inward, as if being crushed by an invisible weight.

"No," he heard Rogue say, and although she remained mostly inside her alley,she held out a gloved hand in Bob's direction. Again, it looked like nothing was happening, but the car seemed to stop flattening out, and yellow veins were starting to stand out on his massive fist like cables.

Fenrir let his hand fall to his side, and growled, "You picked the wrong side, Loa. You know what I can do to you." He had the strangest voice: it was like a burning building inexplicably given speech.

Only in retrospect did he get an idea of what had just happened.Fenrir could use gravity, but obviously so could Loas ( an Earth spirit, right? Did that matter ? ) so it was a stalemate. A good thing when it came to a gravity fight, he supposed.

"Oh, shove it up your ass, Fen," Bob snapped. Scott heard the glass and metal falling off of him as he stood, and his eyes remained a full, glowing blue. He didn't look too worse for wear, save for runnels of cobalt blood dripping down one cheek. "Your stupid ass revenge trip is with me."

Bob hadn't done anything, and yet Fenrir seemed to stagger back, grabbing for his head, as the raven screeched nosily and the wolves backed up with their master, growling."Who brought you out?" Bob asked, advancing a step for every one Fenrir and his demented crew took backwards.

Fenrir made a snarling noise, and suddenly every single pane of glass on the entire block shattered,blowing outward at startling force, sending shards raining down on the street like frozen rain. There was so much power being thrown around Scott could only imagine this was what it was like to be caught in an electrical storm intense enough to blow the planet up - one roughly the size of Jupiter. Bob had never given any indication he was half this powerful, and Scott wondered why. Was he hiding for some reason?

"I know you're not alone," Fenrir snarled, attempting to hold his ground. "But without the rest of the Aurelia you're screwed."

Aurelia? Lovely, more names that could refer to anything, names that Bob had conveniently never mentioned.

Fenrir's wolves broke off from their master,and with their heads held low, lips pulled back from dripping ivory fangs, and Scott knew one was coming for him, and the other for Rogue. The raven took off from Fenrir's shoulder, and he bet it was heading up towards Jean.

"I only need Camaxtli," Bob replied coolly, as the street started to rumble, and cracks began to spiderweb throughout the macadam. Scott wasn't sure which of them was doing it, especially since neither seemed bothered by it.

"Camaxtli?" It was hard to say, but he almost sounded nervous.

Scott wondered if he should shoot the wolf coming towards Rogue first, and just take care of the one after him second - assuming there was enough time. He just didn't know what other powers a Loa had, and if it would do her any good.

It wasn't a decision he had to make. From across the street, what looked like a beam of solid, prismatic white stabbed out and engulfed the wolf coming for Rogue; in a matter of seconds, it was completely engulfed in ice, maybe a foot thick, frozen directly onto the cracking street.

It was then that everyone exploded into action.That was the plan: as soon as one of them used their powers, they were all supposed to use their powers - create so much chaos that he'd be hard pressed to pick out a single target. Scott didn't understand why Fenrir couldn't take them all out at one go, but Bob seemed to think that between him and "Cammy", Fenrir would find that well nigh impossible.

Scott shot the wolf coming for him face on and at full blast, sending the thing flying across the street and into another parked car, which bent inward around the lupine as if it had actually been t - boned by a car and not an animal. He really was more powerful; he could feel the energy raging inside his bloodstream. He was so warm he wondered if he was feverish, or if it just seemed that way.

At the same second he shot the Fenrir wolf, the wolf Bobby had frozen somehow burst into flames,and the raven let out a huge, distressed squawk as it began a death spiral down towards the street: Jean had telekinetically paralyzed its wings. Just for good measure, Scott shot it to and sent it flying over onto the next block in a burst of ebony feathers.

Fenrir roared, just like he imagined a dragon would ( it was not a human noise for damn sure ) and suddenly there was a noise like breaking ice, and part of the road collapsed inward ... but sadly for Fenris, it was part of where his flaming wolf was, and it went plummeting down into a broken sewer pipe beneath the road.It may have made a noise - he wasn't sure.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rogue shaking her hands as if they were sore, and he belatedly realized she had sent the wolf into the sewer. Good job.

Bob made a gesture, and now it was Fenrir's turn to go flying backwards with incredible force, but instead of doing a Bob and hitting a car, Fenrir went flying straight into his own flaming pyre at the end of the street.

Now that was a three point shot if he had ever seen one.

***

He scaled an apartment building at the end of the street, and as soon as he was on the roof, he saw the dark head of that big lizard thing about seven blocks east of his current position, and ... lights. Electric lights, in an apartment building three and a half blocks due North. Bingo.

"Bastard, you're mine now," he muttered, looking over the edge of the building. It was what, an eight story drop? Oh, what the fuck?

He stepped off the edge and dropped back down onto the sidewalk.

He landed hard on his feet, an electric shock traveling up his legs on impact, and he stumbled slightly, regaining his balance in a haphazard sort of way.Okay, maybe he wasn't used to the really really big drops yet.

"Fuck, Superman!" Clia exclaimed, so loudly it seemed to echo down the block. "Warn someone before you come plummetin' out of the sky!"

He whirled on her with a snarl. "Do you even know what quiet means?"

She scowled at him, shifting her heavy duffle bag to her other shoulder. "Since when is flyin' one of your powers? Shit, if you had said - "

"I don't fly," It was so hard not to lose his temper. Why was he bothering not to? "I jumped from the roof. I have a metal skeleton, I don't break, I can do that. Got it?"

She glanced up towards the top of the building - he doubted she could see in the dark - and then looked back at him, eyebrow raised. "You really are a crazy motherfucker, you know?"

"Gee, Brokaw, thanks for the news flash," he snarled, turning away from her and stalking off North.

He was hoping she'd take the hint and go, but of course not. "The bike's that way, Magellan."

"I don't want 'em to hear me comin'."

"So you know where they are?"

Why wasn't he knocking her out again? If he was crazy, it'd be excused, right? "Three and half blocks up, this way."

She was quiet for an entirely blissful five seconds, then said, "Mission Street? Kevin lives on Mission Street?" She snorted disdainfully. "Loser.No wonder he started a death cult."

"Look, we should split up," he suggested, although it was order.If she didn't leave soon he wasn't going to be held responsible for what he did.

"What, so we can get killed off one at a time, like in a bad horror movie? Fuck you, Chester."

He wheeled on her and she almost walked straight into him before jumping back a step. "Clia, he can't do shit to us.Imalame - o still isn't completely formed yet, and Kevin ... well, he's fucking Kevin. Think you can't handle him?"

She scoffed. "Of course I can handle him. He's not just a Human, he's a punkass dipshit Human."

"Great. Make your way to Mission Street and take him out. I'll take Imadild - o."

She stared at him as if he was the stupidest thing in existence. "What if they don't got that plan,Captain Marvel?"

Okay, if she called him one more nickname, he was tossing her in the nearest dumpster. "I bet Imafuck - o knows I'm comin' 'cause I killed his bugs. Why the fuck would he know about you?"

"Because he's an evil dickhead and they always know that kind of shit."

Logan sighed, rubbed his eyes, willed himself not to lose it yet. "Life is not a comic book."

"Says the superhero."

He glowered at her. "I am not - " Okay, that was it, his patience with her was completely gone. "Go. Now."

She rolled her eyes as she turned away, as if he was being the difficult one. "Man, it's gonna take a lot more than good fuck to loosen you up."

He was tempted to say "How the hell would you know", but since he could remember absolutely nothing about their supposed night together, he decided he shouldn't give her ammunition for a smart ass comeback. He had to look at it this way - at least she was gone.

Logan continued onward, stalking quietly, tensed for any action, alert for any noise or new scent, but it all seemed eerily peaceful as he closed in on the site. ( It struck him then as kind of ironic - in a town full of dead things, he was going towards the light. )

He sensed he wasn't alone first, a sort of familiar prickling on his skin, long before he felt the shift in the air. There wasn't a new scent, not really - apparently this guy, whoever he was, had his scent all over the place. Which made it impossible for him to zero in on his location.

"You don't seem to understand what you could have here," a voice said. It was above him and below him, off to  the left and suddenly over on the right. He looked around, tried to triangulate on the noise, but it was hopeless: the demon was too good a ventriloquist.

"Why don't you come and tell me," Logan replied, remaining where he was on the sidewalk. He wasn't going to make a move until he was sure where the fuck the thing was. But right now it seemed to be everywhere and nowhere.

"I don't need to tell you. I was impressed by your little display, you know. You're more vicious than most Humans - I like that. I think, rather than be at odds, we could work together."

"Yeah, right. Is this where you make the bogus offer, and as soon as I accept it you try and kill me?"

"Do I have to wait until you accept it?" The demon replied sarcastically. Logan had to admit - if only to himself - he had a point. "No, Logan, I think you know I can't kill you. That's why I propose a truce."

He cocked his head, surreptitiously scanning the dark buildings around him, quietly sniffing the air. Nothing new - damn it! "So you're a telepath - is that supposed to impress me?"

"No. Have you no interest in my offer?"

"It's all bullshit. I know this is a trap, so spring it already. I wanna get outta here before the next century."

It sounded like it chuckled, but it could have been nothing more than a stuttering burp. "It's not a trap, Logan, it is just what I said: an offer. Unreality has some advantages over what the others call reality, you know."

"What?  Eiffel Tower sized cans of Raid? 'Scuse me if I pass." Where the hell was the bastard? Why didn't he make his move?

"No, my dear Human. A chance to have a better life than this."

Finally there was movement in the shadows up ahead, and he tensed and sprung his claws, stalking right towards the half assed bastard, waiting to see if he could cut something that had already been sliced ...

But the smell was all wrong. It was familiar somehow, feminine, but he instantly dismissed the thought that it was Clia doubling back, because - female or not - she still smelled like a Belial. This woman was a Human.A woman who smelled faintly of almond and cinnamon, sandalwood and cherry blossoms, someone .... painful.

He saw her and paused several seconds before she saw him and froze. "Logan?" It was Mariko, and he was disappointed that he could be fooled, no matter how briefly, by a ghost image.

But could he hear the ghost breathing? If he let go and reached out with his senses, he could hear her heart beating frantically in her chest. He didn't hear that before; he didn't scent her so strongly before.

He retracted his claws, but mostly in a dull sort of shock - he was feeling a million things at once, and they all seemed to collide and cancel each other out, just leaving him numb.

"Riko," he breathed, not quite believing it, and yet believing it, his own heart gaining its own panicky rhythm. He could smell confusion from her, a little fear, but nothing like his own. She was not the demon in a guise; she was not a construct based on his faulty, scattershot memories.

Alive. Mariko was alive. Again.