Shmd

Heya, a new chapter!

Where we go over our spoils!

Happy reading,

With love, Sh'.

 

Chapter 74 : Dawn of a new era (A final act of spite)

 

Unspecified location, unspecified time, the Astral Plane

 

It takes me a while to finally, shakily I might add, stand on my feet again.

 

My pounding headache has become barely tolerable as Gwen explains to me what exactly the Phoenix did.

 

The bird of fire Himself is currently busy discussing with His charge, Scott standing next to Jean at a distance.

 

One of my hands still rubbing one of my temples, I mull over what Gwen told me.

 

“In short, one day I’ll be just as fine as a native of this realm but we don’t know when.” I conclude.

 

“That’s what the Phoenix implied.” She answers curtly with a little nod.

 

The blond is, obviously, still a little bit upset with me.

 

I sigh softly.

 

“Well, I at least have that to look forward to I guess.” I muse aloud.

 

She side-eyes me.

 

“What about, er, Sinister’s knowledge?” She asks cautiously.

 

I halt my poor attempt at relieving myself of my headache.

 

Not like it’s currently working anyway since my Astral body is a construct projected by my mind and I can’t possibly impact my real brain.

 

“It worked, I guess.” I answer noncommittally.

 

“I guess?” She asks, perplexed.

 

“That whole ordeal had the consequence of collapsing my carefully crafted mental architecture.” I drawl, my annoyance dripping, “I can’t really access his memories without it, there’s simply too many of them.”

 

Her eyes bulge slightly.

 

“His memories?” Gwen asks, a little distressed.

 

Which is the appropriate reaction, by the way.

 

“The Phoenix gave me those in full, yes.” I answer flatly, “I’ll need to excise as much as I can to avoid any personality bleed-through. I’ve already seen some flashes and it’s even worse than I thought.”

 

Gwen slowly gulps.

 

“How can I help?” She asks after a beat, her jaw set.

 

I open my mouth to answer her that she can’t before thinking better of it.

 

Actually, she can.

 

“Tell me, Gwennie, is your perception of time still slowed here?” I ask her archly while gesturing vaguely around us.

 

She blinks.

 

“It is, yes.” She admits easily.

 

“I’d really appreciate it if you'd let me emulate it for my benefit once more, then.” I answer with a winning smile.

 

After all, my headache can’t really possibly get any worse and the sooner I get my mind juiced up the sooner I can debunk and cut into Sinister’s knowledge.

 

I’m a little bit leery at the idea of actually going to sleep with his whole life in my head and its impact on my subconscious.

 

“Alright.” Gwen answers immediately.

 

I motion to take her hand into mine since it would suffice considering the both of us are expressions of our respective minds in the Astral plane but she shuffles between my arms instead.

 

I’m a little befuddled, not really understanding why she did that until she stands on her tippy-toes while snaking her arms behind my back.

 

Ah.

 

I got it.

 

She must have remembered how we did it in the first place and assumed that we needed to touch our forehead together.

 

That, or it’s her latest trick in the book to sneak a hug, I’m not sure.

 

I don’t really have it in me to correct her assumption though, since I’m a little in the doghouse right now.

 

Especially considering her very obviously shut eyes and slightly quivering lip.

 

Gods, you would think she’s expecting to be kissed like that.

 

Mentally shaking my head at the image, I create a second ‘me’ in my mind to start the process while gently hugging her back.

She tenses for a second before relaxing and leaning onto me.

 

I try very hard to ignore exactly what my chest is pressed against.

 

“Let’s begin.” I say softly as I lean my forehead against hers, sending my second thoughtstream to coalesce into her mind as soon as I feel her psy-shield pull back.

 

Apparently, it’s like the bike because the process is as smooth as the first time.

 

I think it even takes me less time than when I did it back in January. Whether it’s because I’ve already done it once or because we are in our Astral bodies, I don’t really know.

 

<“I know I should be mad at her but can I really? I mean, she did have a good reason and even the Phoenix said she couldn’t do anything about it by herself and…”>

 

I pull back wordlessly as soon as her mind ceases to be senseless gibberish to me.

 

Gwen cracks an eye open, locking her vivid mint green orb into mine.

 

I flash her a little smile as my second thoughtstream rejoins the first in the confine of my mind.

 

“It worked like a charm, thank you Gwennie.” I tell her.

 

She starts to pull back a little, seems to think better of it before leaning against me once more with a mighty pout.

 

I look at her with a raised eyebrow.

 

She looks back, totally unabashed and still pouting.

 

“You’re going to stay here until you decide otherwise because you’re still mad at me, I take it?” I ask, struggling not to let my amusement get heard.

 

“Exactly.” She huffs, “So you’re going to stay here and say nothing while doing what you need to do while I enjoy your comfiness and decide if I forgive you or not.”

 

I chuckle a little.

 

Gwen spears me with a glare.

 

“Fine, I get it.” I concede, fashioning myself a pair of two inches white high-heels under my feet before leaning my chin atop of her head and correcting my grip on her back, “Better?”

 

“Acceptable.” She mumbles in my collarbone.

 

Silence descend between us once more while the Phoenix and mutant duo keep talking nearby.

 

I close my eyes once more, starting the lengthy process to fashion myself more thought streams while directing the new addition to the review and pole-axing of Sinister’s memories.

 

It doesn’t take me that long to reach a very acceptable threshold of seven individual thought streams, two social and five accelerated.

 

The flashes I have of Sinister’s life start to get more precise, clinical and impersonal.

 

Let’s see what we got here.

 

Engineering is surprisingly almost as prominent as genetics. No wonder, really, when you basically have to create from scratch all the devices you need to run your experiments.

 

It goes even further, actually.

 

The guy even had a functional design for both a teleporter, a total power hog though, and a cutting edge fusion reactor.

 

That could become extremely useful, I’ll lend the memories to Flash when we go back.

 

Maybe cross-checking the bulky reactor with Stark’s own could be a good idea.

 

Food for thought.

 

Genetics and biology remains the meat of the matter though. I had to repress a few shudders about some vivi- and dissections, of course, but the guy apparently still followed the latest paper in the field so his knowledge is extremely good.

 

His focus was apparently narrowed onto creating the best Apocalypse killing-machine though, as opposed to mine since I’m perfectly aware that quantity is a quality on its own and knows that the real threat are the countless armies the human race will have to wither in the future.

 

No matter, it is still applicable and will serve me well.

 

I also discover, to my greatest delight, that the guy had dabbled into alchemy and science-worthy mystic arts.

 

Since it could end up being useful, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

His knowledge of cloning is extremely extended. I wouldn’t even be surprised if the prick had been the foremost expert in the field until his demise earlier today.

 

I don’t know in what circumstances that could be useful aside from medical grafting purposes and it looks like it would be a Bad Idea to release the knowledge out there for every army in the world to fight over it.

 

Take a really powerful mutant, clone them ad nauseum and steam roll every opposition.

 

I really cannot see how that could get wrong.

 

It could be a potential shortcut to build a global earth defense force against alien invasion, sure, but it would destabilize society in a way that global mutation around the globe wouldn’t.

 

After all, a happy family suddenly gaining powers wouldn’t necessarily mean all of them start to use them for their own gain if they are satisfied with their lot in life. Why would you ditch your comfortable job and routine just because you suddenly can light fire with your thoughts, knowing perfectly well that your daughter’s boyfriend can do exactly the same and he lives two houses over.

 

Society needs all kinds of people. Not everyone is hero material, far from it, the data I pilfered from Fury about the raid on the facility points firmly in that direction.

 

The official number of mutants on American soil was seriously off. By at least a solid digit. Yet, we never heard of them and most of the potential Facility targets still live happily normal lives.

 

Really strange, that.

 

Yeah, there will be some hiccups for sure, but I’m confident I’ll find a way to wing something before I pull the trigger.

 

Sinister’s knowledge on telepathy came just after.

 

Alright, the guy was a fucking arsehole but he definitely knew a thing or two about suggestions and body hopping.

 

I shudder as a particularly tidbit about eliciting physiological response through purely mental influence is made known to me.

 

I very pointedly do not look in Jean and Scott’s direction at that.

 

Another point of data about telepathy is forwarded to me and I suddenly freeze.

 

Oh fuck.

 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” I spit angrily, extricating myself from Gwen’s arms.

 

I start to pace while nearly pulling my hair in anger and dismay.

 

Gwen's initial startle at my reaction has left place to puzzlement and worry when I finally start to calm down.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asks cautiously.

 

I’m glad she didn’t choose to berate me for my crude language because it’s really not the time.

 

I exhale very slowly while closing my eyes.

 

“We may have a very big problem on our arms, just give me a minute.” I ask, redirecting my thought streams to look for particular information.

 

I feel my mind churning as I wait anxiously for the results.

 

It takes barely a few seconds before I have a mental map of the globe with very obvious blinking lights.

 

A cursory glance prompts a slew of expletives to escape me.

 

Twenty-three.

 

Three on American soil.

 

One in New York City.

 

“Even beyond the grave, the guy manages to be an aggravating pain in my arse.” I mutter under my breath as I pinch the bridge of my nose.

 

“Care to enlighten the crowd?” Gwen finally asks.

 

I open my eyes to look back at her, my teeth gritted.

 

Her arms are folded across her chest and her eyes are serious.

I’m glad she takes my outburst seriously at least.

 

“Remember when I not so subtly implied that Sinister was a telepath?” I ask her, my hand falling alongside my body.

 

She nod.

 

“He was also the foremost expert in cloning on this earth, I reckon.” I carry on slowly, “Combine that with his unnatural obsession with mutants and he cloned a lot, and I mean, a lot of them during his life.”

 

My arms fold across my own chest, unconsciously mirroring her as I rant.

 

“As a final act of spite if he ever died, he programmed his clones to go on a mindless rampage.” I explain, “The guy had twenty-three hidden facilities dedicated to cloning across the world, three on American soil and…”

 

Gwen’s expression morphs into a horrified one.

 

“One in New York City.” I conclude, “We need to assemble the team. Fast.”

Shmd

A bit shorter than usual but I really wanted to cover only those points, so you'll have to forgive me :p