Age of Cyclops - Interlude: Capitol Sins

by Phil Hartman

9/18/00: Massachusetts Academy Boys' Dorm: 05:00 hrs EDT:

I am a marked man.

OK, OK, boy; 13, and I'm angsting ... no, teenagers shouldn't angst. Heresy ?

Consider my life: I've got kickass superpowers, a maybe-girlfriend, sibs I actually get along with, and a giant spear for a weapon. And I've trained in the martial arts with one of the deadliest people alive.

I should't be allowed to angst, except:

I've got a 5,000-year-old asshole to kill.

Name: Nathan Christopher Charles Summers.

Mission: To prevent the murder of billions of innocent people by killing En Sabah Nur, one Apocalypse, an ancient External mutant Egyptian who thinks Darwin is the best thing to come along since SI's Swimsuit edition.

(Hey, I'm 13. What do you want from me, a poetic quote ?)

Problem: I can't tell anyone but my maybe-girlfriend, Beatrice Shade - AKA Domino, the world's luckiest girl and one of my oldest friends, who's a total hottie (so she's chalk-white, the EYES, man ...) - or I'll be locked away in a monastery while Apocalypse kills every other superhero on Earth and laughs at me.

Solution: ...

Run away.

Stupid. They'll probably nail me before I even reach the flonqing bastard - my family thinks kids should train in their powers, not be allowed to kick ass.

But hiding's not an option ... not after the precog flash I had earlier this year.

Apocalypse, standing over my family's dead bodies.

Not a chance in HELL, danke ...

It's time to ride.

***

My training skinsuit is on underneath jeans and a turtleneck - New England late summer is just cool enough to pull it off - as I slip out of the dorm.

(The one bearable thing about Remy LeBeau is the security system training he's given us. Otherwise, the man's Pepe Le Pew with red eyes.)

My psimitar is in my jacket pocket; Forge made it collapsible.

Now, to get out of here ...

Nur is going to Washington. Not to invade ...

... but to run for the Presidency.

"Bashar Nenu." Talk about your pathetic anagrams ... "En Sabah Nur" was easy to figure out.

Question is, can I take him ?

First things first -

- oh no -

- Illyana.

***

Nate found himself hanging upside down from what seemed like a tree - which he suspected was more of an animal/plant creature - in the grey, grim woods of Limbo.

#Not a lot of woods, but then time does pass quicker here,# Nate realized. #After the demons kicked off back in '92, and 'Yana took back over (1), she must've reforested ...#

"Musty. And kinda dull," the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Slavic-accented girl wearing only stragetically-placed leaves standing before Nate said, releasing him from the plant with a wiggle of her fingers. "OK, Nate. Why shouldn't I drop you on Ms. Frost's bed ?"

"Because I'm not into S and M," Nate tried to joke.

Illyana Rasputin smirked at her friend and leaned back on a throne of moss atop a tree stump. "You don't think I - a Mistress of Life magic - am blind to what's coming ? To your destiny ?" the girl said, softly. "Nate -"

"Yana, if you know what's coming, then you know I have to stop him !" Nate insisted. "I can do this."

A look of utter grief flickered across the witchling's face, and a sprite wiped her tears with flower petals.

"It'll be your death," Illyana whispered. "Is that what you want ? To leave your friends - family - Bea ?"

Nate hung his head and said, "Of course not. But better a gravestone than a sole survivor. They'd protect me, when I HAVE to protect them."

He looked Illyana in the eye and said, "You can send me back. Or you can let me face Apocalypse. I can't stop you - Limbo is your, Horizon Realm, right ? You're all-powerful here."

"I am," Illyana said, standing. She smiled weakly and added, "Not quite all powerful, though. You're damn stubborn, Nate Summers."

"Comes from my mother, I guess," Nate mumbled. He closed his eyes, then opened then -

- and gasped aloud when Madelyne Pryor floated before him.

"An aisling - a dream," Illyana said, dispelling the illusion. "You were wishing you could see her one last time."

"I was a year and a half old when she died, killing the Beyonder," Nate breathed. "I ... the only real mom I ever knew was Jean. Thanks, 'Yana."

"Don't thank me. I'm sending you to certain death," the girl sighed, opening another stepping disc. They stood before each other, and impulsively, they hugged for an instant.

"Go with the gods, Dayspring," Illyana smiled.

"Walk with your Goddess, Lightchilde," Nate smiled without sarcasm.

And he stepped forward.

***

D.C. is just as smelly, ugly and full of sharks as the last time I was here.

(Of course, then I was 11, and more prone to fearing lawyers. Now I realize they're just natural parts of the D.C. ecosystem.)

Then again, the last time I was here, mutants were being celebrated for saving America from Operation: Zero Tolerance ...

First thing: out of the street clothes. Jeans, shirt and jacket into the nearest shrub, leaving me in my skinsuit. I take my psimitar with me and head for the Capitol Building.

I cast a psi-illusion around myself while I sit on the Capitol Hill steps. I elongate my psimitar, charge it up, and wait.

He's in town. I can "smell" his mental "scent" -cold, metallic, and bloody.

The first time I picked up on it was when I was 7, and Foxbat opened a transportal to Apocalypse's moonbase. Ray and Jesse, bless 'em, beat the crap outta Foxbutt, but I still saw Nur. And he saw me, before the portal closed.

And I knew one of us was gonna have to eventually croak.

So, I lied to Forge - got him to think my psimitar would just be a "crutch," for me to hone my TK on. I got Logan to think I was interested in self-defense -I kinda feel bad about that one; he really deserved a student who was gonna listen to him.

Bea ... I miss you ...

"DAYSPRING."

Oh, SHIT ...

And I turn, and there he is.

He's masquerading as a businessman, three-piece suit, Coptic skin, smooth black hair, and big brown eyes.

But we're not fooling each other.

"I CAN SENSE YOUR POWER-TRACE, WHELP," he booms - no fake Egyptian accent here, he's not messing around. "COME OUT. FACE ME. OR ARE YOU OF THE WEAK ?"

He can't fine-tune his biogenetic scan ... ?

And he's five feet from me.

Bea, you're not the only lucky one ...

***

He bellowed, roaring, when the first telekinetic blast came out of nowhere.

#YES, SHOW ME HOW STRONG YOU ARE,# Apocalypse thought, nodding approvingly while he shifted to his base form. The air rippled nearby -

- and something sharp, burning and gold struck his chest.

"VERY GOOD, DAYSPRING - GRMMPH - YOU HAVE MASTERED CUNNING," Nur said almost approvingly as Nate pulled the psimitar free. The External stood, savoring the look of disgust on the boy's face as his wound healed.

"And you've mastered pomposity," Nate mocked, ducking a punch from one of Apocalypse's extending arms. "Maybe I did a little more damage than you'd expected, or -?"

"OR YOU ARE LESS STRONG THAN - GRMMPH - !?" Apocalypse snarled, blinking.

His right arm was dripping silver blood from where Nate had sliced it off at the elbow.

And the limb wasn't regenerating.

#EXCELLENT,# Nur thought, smiling inwardly. #A TRUE FOE AT LAST ...#

***

He's been doing this for 5,000 years -

- the arm's not DEAD, it's - oh shit, should've paid attention to Leong's stupid tricks -

***

Nur nodded, watching his severed right forearm grow to a horrific size and try to crush Nate in its grip.

The psimitar started hacking fingers, and a telekinetic bubble sent the ruined giant hand flying across the Mall in bits.

And a titan slammed Nur's chest.

"Let's - KAFF - get it ON !" Nate roared, hammering at Nur with his TK. The psimitar slammed down -

- and Nur felt something -

- #PAIN?# -

- between his legs.

***

I - oh God, blood in my eyes, damn hand did SOMETHING to me -

- I CASTRATED APOCALYPSE !?

He's got a flonqing technovirus - he shouldn't be male -

- screw it, take the shot -

- and I pull out the psimitar - shit, pain in my side, feels like a rib, God please don't let that be a punctured lung, not yet -

- and I stab the bastard right between the eyes, IN the eyes -

- and I let him have my hate and my pain and my pissy teenage angstfulness -

- and I scream something really stupid -

***

"DIE, YOU STUPID ASSHOLE !"

Nur raged, howling, as telekinetic energy boiled into him through the psimitar.

And kept coming, lighting the combatants up like a small star.

Apocalypse's armor started to bubble, rupturing with small founts of energy -

- and then it was just white, shrapnel, and a bleeding young boy being thrown across the Mall, wheezing when he landed too hard.

***

...

hurts ...

Well, DUH, Summers, what'd you expect ? "PLEASE, KILL ME, DAYSPRING, I'M TOO MUCH OF AN ASSMUNCH TO LIVE ?"

Leg's busted ... oh yeah, punctured lung ... head feels like Joe hit me with a baseball bat ... my right arm's in friggin' pieces ...

... oh crap. My psimitar's shot.

This was too easy. This is Apocalypse, for Christ's sake ...

... and then I look up.

***

He lay on the Mall, squinting through bloodied eyes, as something dark and foul coalesced on the astral plane.

#Apocalypse's consciousness,# Nate realized, pushing himself up on his good left arm. He looked, seeing his psimitar broken irreparably, and spat at the approaching entity.

"You ... think you can possess ... ME ?" the boy wheezed, feeling agony spike with every breath.

"You forgot ... I didn't use my tepe ...

"... YET."

And another gout of gold fire leapt from him, this time invisible to human eyes.

The dark cloud screamed -

- the astral plane shuddered -

- and Nate knew nothing more.

***-

Until he was slapped, very hard, by a female voice screaming, "YOU'RE NOT DYING ON ME YOU STUPID PIG !"

"Well, THAT'S a fine wake-up call," a relieved Scots voice said over the cursing from the first voice.

Nate struggled to open his eyes, wincing at the grief and fear shifting to relief and tears on the faces of his family.

"You - DUMMIE ! Why didn't you tell us about Apocalypse !?" Rachel demanded, squeezing Nate's hand. "We found you almost dead in Washington, for God's sake !"

"Protecting ... you ..." Nate whispered, watching as Bea sat beside him.

"Fine. Then I'm protecting you while you recover. Then, as soon as you do, I'm going to sadistically remind you of the umpteen violations of the Academy handbook you committed, and you can beg uselessly for mercy," Bea snickered.

"Behave, woman," Nate cough-smirked.

"I'm just glad you're OK," Jesse said, his smaller hand clasping his older brother's as he fought back tears.

"Didn't mean to ... hurt anyone," Nate said apologetically. "Besides ... Apocalypse ..."

"Nate ..." Jean began, clearly discomforted.

"Sorry ... but foresaw ... Apocalypse killing you all," Nate said softly. "Know ... X-Men don't kill, but ..."

"Self-defense," Scott said, his tone cutting off all dissent. Jean looked at him in surprise, but a flicker of something flashed between them, and her face relaxed.

"Things ... have changed," Nate agreed, drawing his family's faces back to him. "Won't ... kill again. Not unless ... protecting people."

"I understand why you felt you had to do it," Jean said, leaning close to kiss his cheek. "Just, please, PLEASE, don't keep such secrets anymore !"

"Never," Nate promised, watching them go. Ray and Jesse hugged him carefully, and only Moira was left.

And Bea, polishing a revolver.

"Yui're serious," Moira said, frowning at the gun.

"Damn straight," the girl growled, finding a chair in the corner. ".45 caliber plasma pistol. Any Dark Riders want a piece of this doof, they're mine. His ass belongs to me now, Doc."

Moira bit back a retort and left.

"So ... what kind of ... punishment ?" Nate asked, drifting off beneath painkillers and a comforter.

"Oh, flogging," Bea began, grinning evilly. "And tons of homework. Emma thought that one up - she can't hurt you physically, so she thought tormenting your mind might be more effective."

"Worst punishment of all ... is seeing you in that outfit and ... being stuck in this bed," Nate groaned.

Bea grinned even wider, and slipped a hand to her skinsuit zipper.

"You're ... evil," Nate wheezed.

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