Ruby

Avengers Unlimited [On Hiatus]

What is the status quo of the mutants at the moment?

In other words, are we pre or post Krakoa era?

X-Men: Ascendancy

Events were transpiring in a chaotic sequence. Even given the variables, of which there were near infinite here, this was, as Ben Grimm would say, a shit show. Johnny warned them about the circus being in town even before they touched down. Reed was well aware of the situation on the ground, but it was good Johnny was alert and acting as perimeter already. Ben and Sue were reminiscing about the first time they meet the X-Men, while Reed engaged the automated systems for landing and responded to the demanding voice on radio comms.

"This is S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Command, please identify yourselves."

Reed found himself merely raising an eyebrow, before depressing the button on the side of the microphone he had brought near his mouth. "S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Command, this is Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four," his tone remained neutral, despite his desire to ask them why S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Command couldn't recognize a version of the Fantasticar when it touched down in front of their eyes. The response of the voice began to come through before a shriek pierced through the signal, his ears, and from the judge of it, everyone else's ears.

"Reed!"

Sue's voice was clear to him, leaving him...curious. His neck stretched three feet and craned to the right, looking at the systems monitoring display at the auxiliary station of this reconfigured and more subtle-looking Fantasticar. "The decibels of that noise were off the charts."

"Then if fire is hot, why aren't we burning?"

Ben just looked confused. "...it ain't warm in here, Susie..."

Reed understood her. "If the sound was that loud, and if our sensors measured it correctly, why can we hear? Why aren't our eardrums burst and bleeding? What makes a sound that doesn't follow the scientific laws of nature? Was it the sound? Was it another force at play?"

Sue's head stopped, entranced out the window. "Um."

Reed rotated his neck and stretched the extra five inches in length to get a close view of the front window. "Oh. Ben?"

The first one out of the Fantasticar was Ben Grimm, out the lowered back ramp of the more unified and streamlined design. The orange-brown of the Thing's stone exterior was quickly painted red with laser light as he reached the bottom of the ramp, his only reaction a slow raise of his right hand to take the stub of a cigar burning cherry red as he inhaled one last time, before taking it between two of his stony digits, and flicked it in the general direction of all the armed S.H.I.E.L.D. meat bags. "Heh. You fellas forget what side we're on, or you jus' forget yer manners?"

Sue and Reed were quickly next to Ben, as Johnny landed in full dazzling fiery splendor. "Johnny," was all Sue said. A beat of their hearts later, and the blonde Johnny Storm in dark blue white trimmed Fantastic Four uniform stood where the Human Torch had.

"Relax, everyone, stand down," the red targeting lasers of over a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. response team members diverted from the Thing when Steve Rogers stepped out of the swirling red-gold energy of a portal conjured by the Sorcerer Supreme that walked just behind Captain America, immediately ignoring the commandos in favor of the giant energy dome that dominated the horizon around them.

"Captain, something is different..." Steven Strange sounded concerned, which made Reed Richards more concerned than he already was. It was never good when Dr. Strange was concerned. Now all that was missing was Valeria calling in with the Future Foundation's analysis to the issue of the Phoenix and Jean Grey. Missing that, Reed just focused on the fact that weapons were still trained on the Fantastic Four and two members of the Avengers who had just shown up. On Captain America. Something was very wrong.

"STAND. DOWN." The command was barked with the full weight and fury of angered authority. Reed recognized the man immediately, though it was noteworthy that Clint Barton was back with S.H.I.E.L.D. in a manner that gave him authority over commando teams. Red dots disappeared and the formation of the fire teams were broken. "Sorry, Cap," Clint and Rogers shook hands, before Clint gave a nod to Strange and turned to face them. "Sorry, Reed. The Acting Director of the National Security Agency is inside that."

That didn't match. "Theodore Bailey is a Deputy Director, Clint."

"Yeah, he was, until the Director was assassinated today and Bailey was next in line. The U.S. is angry and there are serious thoughts the mutants may be playing some 4-D Chess."

Reed couldn't help hide the disappointment in his voice, "Clint, they seriously think the mutants are controlling what's going on here?"

"MUTANTS!"

The shout came from one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. men, the Blackbird of the X-Men came almost silently swooping in from overhead--maybe thirty feet over Reed's head--for a landing adjacent to the Fantasticar. Of all the people Reed expected to see descend from the Blackbird, the very last of those expected was the one Reed ended up seeing. Chaos, indeed, Reed thought to himself as Iron-Man came down the ramp of the Blackbird ahead of a group of overly capable mutants.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. team put every red dot Iron-Man and the mutants. Barton stepped in behind their line of knelt and standing gunmen. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has jurisdiction here, X-Men."

"We are not here as X-Men, Clint Barton," Storm's voice came first as she stepped from behind Stark, eyes sparking and glowing with the brilliant white of lightning, "we are here as Krakoans. Multiple mutants have been trapped within."

"We know," was all Clint gave her, before a slight shake of his head and a look that was sympathetic, "but this is still our jurisdiction."

"Hawkeye, she's IN there, you're not stopping us from being here," the man said, sadly, and with a fanatic's truth behind it.

Clint's face hardened as it looked up to the top of the Blackbird's ramp and regarded Cyclops. "It's about the mutants trapped inside, or a God for mutants Cyclops? Because gotta be honest with you, man, getting kind of tired of this whole firebird cosmic god thing with mutants."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. team re-balanced their weight so they all stood, and threw their weapons at the foot of the Blackbird's ramp, their eyes glazed over with tell-tell emptiness of a mind-controlled by a telepath. Emma Frost's hands rested on her hips as she came to join Cyclops at the top of the Blackbird's ramp. "Jean Grey is no God, you scared silly fool of a man, just an irritating basic American bitch--but she is a mutant, and we ARE staying to ensure the safety of her and all the other mutants present. Do what you must to deal with this reality. Stark? Remove yourself from our ramp. You're leaking on it."

X-Men: Ascendancy

"I voted to execute you, for the record."

Those were the lone words Emma Frost uttered to Tony Stark at the start of the flight, as she walked past him without looking in his direction as she embarked onto their current iteration of the Blackbird. The cape she wore was snow-white, extending to mid-thigh, covering the skin-tight full corset of white leather and sparkling white-lace mesh that exposed the tops of her hips and the sides of her body. Her bottoms were little more than matching white shorts, or actual lingerie shorts, given their fit and how much they revealed...white boots covered her from mid-thigh on down, each seam accentuated in rows of tiny white diamonds.

Emma sat towards the front, with only Illyana Rasputin behind Tony among the five rows of seats. Unlike some of the jets the Avengers used over the years, the Blackbirds were typically smaller and more militaristic in interior design. The result was less legroom, but they could usually cram in a fair amount of people. Some Blackbirds were better than others, and designs tended to differ wildly depending on the generation of Blackbird used, but their current cramped rows of seats with a few feet of room for the pilot and co-pilot, with barely enough space for a center aisle? Cabling and tubing and hydraulics and more sticking out here and there? Not out of the norm for a Blackbird.

Beast and Cyclops took up pilot and co-pilot. Hank McCoy gave Stark little more than a single word greeting, the fallout of the Illuminati events before Battleworld and God King Doom still rubbed Hank's fur the wrong ways. At the end Tony had been unhinged, abandoning everything in the pursuit of some death, as Hank and the other Illuminati who kicked him out of the group had seen it. Cyclops had chuckled at Emma's response to the human before turning and starting to bleed engines and approach half-power. Beast handled the rest of the take-off.

"Strange to leave Krakoa like this," After an hour Magik finally spoke up after she watched mile after mile of ocean pass under them outside the window as they flew at top speeds for upstate New York.

Cyclops kept his attention on instrument panels even as he felt the need to respond, "Yeah, the Council voted against allowing Stark a flower for Gate travel."

"His own people barely trust him, there was very little discussion on the matter," Emma Frost spoke up, though her white shadowed and black lined eyes remained closed, either the result of a cat nap or telepathic concentration was impossible to say. "I believe Shaw laughed, and Mystique appealed for the rest of the council to vote again on how to respond to such blatant and disrespectful violations of Krakoan borders. I seconded, if only holding out hope someone as soft as Charles or Storm would grow enough spine to execute him and send the only of message men like Stark understand."

Beast's only movement was that of his wrists and hands, his fur was slicked back, his eyes squinted as he focused on the horizon and sky. The only laugh he mustered was a short snort from his blue whiskered nostrils. "You are harsh, Emma. I'm sure Mr. Stark will appreciate the Council's reason in the matter, and in the future be respectful of Krakoa borders and air space."

Magik and Cyclops gave bittered chuckles, and not under their breath. Emma Frost, however, remained silent and feigning inattention once more, until the noise came. The sound of the comms system alerting of an incoming signal perked her left eye open, though otherwise she hardly moved a muscle. Beast eyed the display and tapped through the message text, Cyclops scanning it as Beast went. Magik was silent, but she was no longer just lounging in the back row with the armrests up, laying on her back. There was tension, and the message itself didn't really seem to help that.

"It's the Fantastic Four. Reed Richards says they'll be meeting us in New York; apparently, a Celestial host is moving towards Earth from the outer edge of the system, and Galactus has made inquiries."

Prolong silence followed until Magik asked the question. "Is it possible this is some kind of end?"

"Jean wouldn't be the harbinger of death," Scott responded immediately, firmly.

"...not unless you lived in a certain former star system. A trillion, right? More?"

Emma wasn't holding back. Even at her most villainous, she hadn't murdered over a trillion souls. Was it Jean? Was it the Phoenix Force animated Jean? Emma didn't care. She just knew that many people were dead, and they wouldn't be had Jean Grey never existed. Probably.

"Jean's body wasn't present. It's unsure how much of that was Jean, how much of that was the Phoenix Force." Hank McCoy sounded uncertain of anything other than his desire to carefully measure and observe before coming to one conclusion or another. "Given she was at the bottom of Jamaica Bay, cocooned by the Phoenix itself, it can be easily argued she bears little to no fault. Would that we could ask her ourselves. I trust the three of you to know more about the Celestial response than I."

McCoy referenced the Phoenix Five, when Tony Stark had the brilliant idea of trying to shoot the Phoenix Force with a big gun. The result was simply the Phoenix dividing into five and taking five lesser hosts. Cyclops, Magik, and Emma Frost were three of the five. Cyclops would again host the Phoenix, alone, when he was brought into the Secret War conflict by Beast.

"They're nervous about a Phoenix host. A White Phoenix of the Crown..." Magik tried to explain it, but she stopped as she struggled to find the words. Every Host knew of the White Phoenix of the Crown, on some level. Cyclops more than most.

"The White Phoenix of the Crown would have been enough to stop Doom, maybe even stop the Beyonders. I felt a limit to the Phoenix Force's power, but the White Phoenix of the Crown doesn't have any such limit. They are truly omniversal in terms of power. Even Celestials are afraid of what that kind of power can do. They usually want a closer look." That happened when the Dreaming Celestial awoke, and Cyclops found himself telling the Celestial's that it was okay, it was handled, they could leave. To even his surprise, they did leave.

Emma Frost sighed. "They want reassurance Ms. Perfect won't destroy the universe, or them. Marvel Girl, indeed..."

"Landing zone coming up fast," Beast broke in, "Prepare for landing."

X-Men: Ascendancy

"It's raining."

Music played over the scene that suddenly met the both of them: his room at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. The music wasn't his, it was her's. The walls were off-white, with dark wood paneling. The windows and doors were all thick, the hardware on each old but immaculate and perfectly functional. His bed had a musk to it, half sleeping bag, half ancient blanket, maybe even the super soft throw blanket she bought him as a gag gift for always stealing hers during movie night. His stash was under the bed, the biker jacket of his hanging from the desk chair, and a desk that it was. Partially functional given his role.

"You were taken off the Avengers roster at this point. At this point...oh."

Where before he'd seen her in her purest cosmic White Phoenix of the Crown glory, now he saw the same bright green she was born with. Dark lashes, dark red hair...and the suit. The last suit he'd seen her in, except the colors were different now: white and gold-trimmed. The gold shined and danced in the light of the room so much it almost looked liquid, and the white of the suit would break down light into a rainbow if someone stared too hard at it. At least, right now, there was nothing she could do about it.

There, in his bedroom at a school he started, in a building he had rebuilt, Logan stood face to face with Jean Grey again. Her lips smiled at him, amusement sparkling in her bright eyes. She laughed loud and sudden when he reached out to touch her, to see if she was real. Most would have gone for an elbow, a shoulder. Head still tilted back, laughing, she nodded--his hand firmly on her chest. "I'm really here, yes. This time, this place...it felt safe for you. I'm sorry it took so long for me to see you. The Phoenix Force was trying to hide it, hide you. I'm not entirely sure why, yet, but at this point, it cannot fight me. Nothing can. Walk with me?"

His confused face and, "Uh, sure, Jeanie..." was enough for her to open the door of his bedroom and wait for him. A few students had quick greetings at the sight of the man: A few of the Cuckoos chatting with professors Bobby Drake and Jubilee. Jean was quick to point out everyone could see him. After all, he was alive and well during this point in time and space. She was not. "Like a ghost I can grope?"

"Yes." He grinned. She tried not to laugh. "Shut up."

They were too quickly down the back stairs. That was the thing about the rooms at the ends of the halls. Any Xavier's student knew how fast those rooms could get into the stairs and outside, or how quickly people could get into those rooms. Certain students were never allowed those rooms, and usually, they were occupied by a "bachelor staffer." Logan probably just wanted the smoke, but did Jean really have to know everything to know Domino had been here at some point? She liked when he tried to be happy. She preferred more sustainable methods than insane levels of narcotics and women like Domino, but, he was only mutant.

The rain just outside the side exit made her eyes close and her body turn back towards the door, towards him coming through it. Golden gloved hands in long red hair. "I missed this. I never forget, it's just so...distant, usually. So many times when I act it's an invisible hand, not even Franklin Richards can see, try as the poor man might. So vast is the canvas, so impossible the number of tools available for any task. I love it. I love being the White Phoenix. I did, at least. I know the timelines. I know the cycles. I've seen them all."

Her head tilted up, again, skyward as her green eyes blinked upon between tiny drops of rain in the side lawn of the school. Of their home. "But why can't I remember all of it? Something is missing."

When her eyes opened again, she felt it. She saw it on his face, as his eyes looked past her. She never felt the heat, only turned on her heel. There the Phoenix Force was, in the same small size, hovering semi-sentience, a force of reality that transcended even the multiverse. "Why would you hide part of me? It seems this me found a way, hmm? Let's have it...oh." Her shoulders turned first, followed by the rest of her body as she turned to find Logan once again. "It was you. When Scott died, I knew when I looked that not every version of Scott loved me the same. But when I looked at you...it was different. Every version of you loved me, if there was a me to love...and you hid this?"

Celestials stirred as the White Phoenix of the Crown turned once again to the bird, a new edge to her voice. They needn't have bothered, immediately her face softened as it regarded the bird. "I'm sorry you felt you had to do that. That wasn't really fair to me, was it?" She turned in the direction of the lake, moving with a few uneasy steps as her mind raced. When she turned back, now, it was to look at them both. "This has been good, I think," she said, sadly, "I will always be part of the White Room, but you cannot represent all life when you focus so much on one life: mine. You have to move on, you have to let me go. I have to let you go, too. We have done this so long now, you cannot grow more with me. And I need to come back now. We'll always be part of each other."

It left quickly after a slow lingering regard in a lifting haze of yellows and reds and whites and oranges, streaking across a sky she knew all to well outside Xavier's.

As she still stared upward, Jean's eyes squinted at the rain, her mind already starting to change. "I won't be like this for too much longer, Logan. I can see infinity starting to slip, darken at the edges so it's impossible to see it all. I'm already colder..." The warmth Jean felt now didn't come from the energy of life, or the unknowable energy that godhood poured into being. It came because she reached out, and took his hand in both of hers. "Where and when do you want to go, love?"

X-Men: Ascendancy

"Is he in range?"

Scott Summers asked as his visored, covered, head tilted skyward. The pacific sun was warm, but the cool island breeze was more than enough to keep sweat off you. Even in some of the outfits mutants were known to wear. Not Emma, Scott thought, but other mutants. Polaris stood in a bodysuit of her preferred shade of green just feet away, eyes closed in concentration. "Almost."

Magik snorted, stating again her belief they should have let her toss Stark in Limbo for a time-out. Scott saw the appeal, especially after everything Stark had done in the past few years. As far as they knew, and their information was good, Stark was back on good terms and once again an Avenger. That was enough to let him land, even if it would be on their terms.

"He's in range."

"Storm," was all Scott had to say.

The sky directly above Krakoa would darken with angry clouds and harsher winds that suddenly became arctic, leading to an environment of black-out conditions and enough lightning to turn Stark's sensors into damage avoidance mode, at best. And by then Polaris had him, bringing him down fast but controlled. The last member of the group finally stepped forward, massive hands behind his massive back, just a few feet from where Stark would be placed next to the grassy island cliffside and the sound of crashing pacific ocean waves below. Scott wasn't sure he loved the idea of Apocalypse being the first one Stark would face, but he had to admit one thing: It was nice having Apocalypse on their side for once. Besides Apocalypse wasn't here to intimidate.

He was here as a member of their Council.

The ancient mutant's voice was deep and edged like jagged stone, his body towering over the armored human as his eyes stared at the man. "You have violated Krakoan airspace. We have deemed your violation necessitated by extenuating circumstances, and allowed your presence so that this audience can be conducted with members of the Quiet Council in Storm and myself, as well as ranking members of our military; Great Captains Cyclops, and Magik."

"Tony," Scott stepped forward, as Apocalypse half stepped back, "I believe you're aware of the other party present, Polaris. If you're here about New York, we don't have any answers. Logan hasn't joined us on Krakoa. Xavier has reported Cerebro identified a part of Jean's psyche, but only a part, not the whole. We have lost three Krakoans inside the field: Ice-Man, Esme Cuckoo, and Jubilee. Another mutant was detected, but they're young and weren't supposed to awaken--their proximity must have triggered it. There's also a human, Deputy Director of the N.S.A., presumably because he was with Logan, Ice-Man, and Esme when the field...grew." Scott heard himself sigh and slowly shook his head. "That's all we know, Tony, we were headed there ourselves, trying to come up with a plan better than just jumping in and hoping it worked out."

It was a joke, kind of, but deep down...that was exactly what Scott intended to do. Even a part of Jean was enough to risk it, to him.

X-Men: Ascendancy

JEAN GREY

Krakoan ⭙ X-Men ⭙ White Phoenix of the Crown

⭙ _{H I S T O R Y} ⭙

New England girl with a fairytale life that became a nightmare. Founding member of the X-Men, founding member of X-Force. Former Head Mistress of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Responsible for over a trillion deaths. The most powerful telepath on Earth. Discovered the Crown within the White Hot Room, had been one with the Phoenix Force.

Until recently...

X-Men: Ascendancy

Jean let him go with a quick kiss to the side of his fuzzy cheek and chuckled as she turned back towards her room. Scott was still at the Treehouse; Jean had begun slipping through the Krakoan gate before what was typically dinner time. Schedules were hectic as ever, Logan and X-Force, she and the X-Men, and everyone else in the house with various endeavors: Rachel was off with the Red Queen's Marauders, the young Cable was either trying at whichever Cuckoo girl was nearest or doing something stupid and dangerous (but doing it well), while Scott's brothers...kept busy. Vulcan was a powerhouse, with no memory of his mad ascent to the Shi'ar. Havok was a different kind of situation.

And then there was the wild one: "Jamie!"

The blur was a child, dark-haired and sharp-featured, dressed in blue shorts and yellow tee, and orange shoes with the lights that blinked in the sole of the shoe. Thankfully the Treehouse in Manhattan got Amazon Prime deliveries. Enough that Jean knew their regular Amazon driver by name; and Gus was a very nice grouch of a man. Jean tried to stay firm, but laughter was infectious, her eyes a brighter kind of green when she laughed and looked back at Logan. "Your child. Yours. My baby, your child. Think he's excited to spend the day doing 'Wolverine' things around the island with Daddy? Can't tell." A long yawn caught her by surprise as her body leaned back into his, her eyes catching the horizon.

And the sun. "Why is the sun so bri--"

ENOUGH!

It all vaporized, the energy of it so sudden and absolute that even in cosmic terms there was nothing left. Just Logan, an infinite white expanse, and...the bird. A semi-sentient construct of flame and the omniverse. For once it met someone in an unusual state; though it need not it gently flapped wings of flame as it hovered there before the man, no bigger than a large crow. Its eyes were flame that flickered and flared, but the unmistakable feeling was present: there was something very much alive in those eyes. Something was definitely home. It had the voice of a collective, a harmony that peaked mid-speech but frayed towards the end, allowing more layers of an endless number and types of voices.

"She is happy. We are one. Life thrives across infinity, death consumes all that it must and none more. She is present at all. We cannot be, no others have ever been. The White Crown must stay. She is happy. We are one. Would you deny this? Would you see infinity a darker place?"

The claws came, and the Phoenix Force echoed itself: "She is happy." When Logan reached out, the very tip of his bladed claw went lightless black, and everything else followed as James 'Logan' Howlett began to die, and resurrect, and die so many times that time itself would become just another star in the lightless expanse to what remained of his mind. Memories would be sporadic, and more intense than anything ever induced by any of the countless narcotics that he had turned to over the years. A circle of glowing and flaring energy, surrounded by the haze and greed of black nothingness. In the middle? The real secret, but his mind had bent upon itself again, as he dies and lives again, die and live again, the same moments, the same bird.

Shink.

The claws were gone, the never-ending bright white returned, and the bird stared the same.

"We have summoned you. Go."

Flame feather tips began to melt like molten metal, the liquid fire that spilled just before his feet and slowly filled a line before him, before turning upwards in a steep curve, meeting at the top with another straight line across, marrying the two sides at the perfect center. The golden doorknob appeared, the door to the White Hot Room now waiting for him.

X-Men: Ascendancy

"Who is he talking to?"

The very moment the young blonde woman's eyes blinked shut, and her telepathic mind reached out of her body, the screaming was instantaneous. It took Bobby Drake and the human career spook to keep her body from lashing out violently, to keep her from hurting herself or others. In the end a well placed size 6 leather clad high-heeled boot sent the human off his feet, and her screaming became pitiful, pained, whimpering. "It's too much, it's too much, it's just too much, it's..." Her lips continued moving as her voice drifted too low, too soft, for the audible.

Theodore had finally felt enough was enough. If mutants and their powers would struggle, he would simply take the charge. He stood, he thought about his wife and his kids, and took the three steps to close the distance between where he had been next to the collapsed young woman, and the seemingly entranced, insane, mutant codenamed Wolverine. He tried to call out, but no indication the man even knew they were still there inspired Teddy's hand to come up to the entranced mutant's shoulder. The very second Theodore Bailey touched the man, his body became glowing hot ash upon the grass where once he stood, and nothing more.

Bobby Drake looked up just in time to see the light, his lips spreading in a small smile the moment the light came, and the white field around what had been the X-Mansion and its grounds suddenly grew to cover the security perimeter and field operations surrounding it, no one and nothing remaining, ash slowly drifting from the grey sky above like first snow of the season.

"Logan," she spoke, sadly, "you killed me."

He found himself in a void of black nothingness, until his body swayed until sound began to bleed through...the high-pitched mechanical whine of a supersonic turbo-prop engine powering back and powering on. The almost overwhelming glow from the lights of the controls, the techno-cavernous closeness of the metallic interior of the old X-Men's Blackbird. Most were seated as the craft landed, but while he was usually the first to get out of a seat at the end of a flight and crowd the door to get off, to escape the close quarters, this time he wasn't alone.

This time, the new X-Men returned from Krakoa with the old X-Men. And for the first time, Logan found himself standing next to Jean Grey, an older teenager, and original X-Man, dressed in the green dress, tall boots, and yellow mask of the Marvel Girl. "Thank you, Wolverine." Her words were sluggish, her voice the very sound of exhaustion, her body deflated in sleepiness. Krakoa had ended up feeding off the X-Men telepathically, and that had been hardest of all on the telepath of the team. That Xavier had assembled a new team of X-Men, that they had risked their lives and saved the original team...Jean was just thankful. She was always the first of the original team to the door during landing, and it made her smile when she got to the door and found she wasn't the first one there, anymore. She thanked him, she smiled a sleepy smile at him, and touched his arm as the hydraulics of the Blackbird lowered the ramp, and opened the rear hatch, allowing her to slip out first and go embrace her mentor and friend waiting for them.

Jean never did catch the look Xavier gave the shadow at the rear exit as Jean came down the ramp, at the way Xavier had looked at Logan in that moment. Not the first time she lived it, anyway.

X-Men: Ascendancy

"Marvel Girl?"

The Doctor's dark brows perked, some mixture of amusement and bemusement at the mention of the name, "Recently she had gone by other names."

"This is about the Phoenix?" Captain Rogers' square jaw and blue eyes were serious in ways they weren't just heartbeats before Strange finished.

"With Jean Grey," Strange sighed, "it's always about the Phoenix...or rather with the Phoenix, it's always about Jean Grey."

"There are other hosts of the Phoenix, Doc."

Strange allowed Stark's obvious point, "Yes, and across the multiverse. Perhaps beyond. The Phoenix Force, not unlike other cosmic entities, has sentience and purpose. For whatever reasons, it believes this one version of this one human from Earth to be its most seamless, and thus most capable, host. The White Phoenix of the Crown."

Rogers and Stark shared a glance as Strange worked through the physical, and the magical locks with little more than quick motions and glowing waves. "Does it matter? Say this is her, say she's back, say she's this Crown. How close do you think the X-Men are going to let us get before it devolves into full-out violence? Is this worth that?"

The room beyond was all starlight and impenetrable darkness. Somehow, someway, their booted feet found purchase on where a floor would have been, once, before the Sorcerer Supreme and his sorcery. While they spoke, the Solar System illuminated and swirled into existence before them from a glittering swirl of smoke and dust and starlight. When it did, the brightest colors in the room were the figures near the edges of their galaxy. Large, a multitude of colors and appearance, despite the same basic design and structure that was so old, few knew its real age range.

Stark didn't sound happy to see the sight. "Celestials? Are you serious?"

"Over the last few days, I have slowly come to the suspicion that...they're curious."

"The big bald one is next, right? That's when things always get good."

Captain Rogers stared a hole through the vaunted armor of the Iron-Man, only after a long pause even bothering, "When you say good, you mean--"

"--I mean it SUCKS, Cap. Hard, big, and hairy."

Roger's blue eyes widened, ever-so-slightly, before bouncing between the two men standing around the visual representation before them. "Where's Wolverine?"

"Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Stark, your A.I. is unlikely to work at these levels of the San--"

"The N.S.A. took him to New York. Or, if crappy video feeds can be believed, Krakoans took the N.S.A. and Wolverine to New York." The illuminated "eyes" of the Iron-Man armor fixated on Strange, and his head tilted to the side--just a touch of attitude to go with the stare. "I'm sorry, what about my A.I.?" It was brief, and Strange just blinked at the Iron-Man, before appearing to smile just at the corners of his mouth. Stark's head righted itself as the other question came to him, or at least, finally came to the forefront: "Richards has some experience here. Have you reached out to him?"

"He's working on an answer using science, and logic. Franklin might be helpful--"

Captain Rogers cut him off at the mention of the boy, "Doctor, Franklin is a child."

"And when you start talking about the White Phoenix of the Crown, Captain Rogers, you start at 'reality-warping.' That's the floor of its power. Do you know many such beings likely to be willing to assist?"

"Kid's de-powered. Been that way for a while."

"I was not aware."

"Turns out Reed Richards is good at protecting his family's privacy, Doc. We'll have to try the X-Men."

Rogers shifted his weight, his attention drifting to the red orb not far from the blue one representing their planet. "What are the ones on Mars?"

"Mutants, off-shoots of Apocalypse more than modern mutants, but the two sides seem to be working together," Strange's response to Rogers' confusion came even as he kept his gaze instead on Stark in his armor. Stark was moving his head, from the sun to Earth, to Mars, back to the sun, to the giant Orchis forge, the space station near the sun using the star to help power its continuous construction of an immense Sentinel program. "Does Ultron make you view the Orchis and their Sentinel program differently, Stark?"

"Mutants and humans, more and more people saying war is inevitable...because Krakoa exists, or because Orchi exists. I'm wondering, Doc, what happens when the White Karen of the Phoenix gets involved in that? Are we prepared if that goes sideways for humans? For the planet and everything on it?"

X-Men: Ascendancy

Getting down to the valley and the nearest town was no fun for Theodore. For one, he kinda slipped leaving the cabin and stepping down off its porch. Not enough for people to notice, just enough to silently smash his shin bone. Then there was the awkward silence of the Canadian, and his two operators just stared indifferently. Blessedly while it was a bumpy ride, the weight of Wolverine kept them from bouncing too much. For not being all that tall, the man sure was heavy. Exotic metals had a way of doing that, he found himself thinking as they transferred from the one vehicle to the outskirts of town, and a few different vehicles. The vehicle on the way up and down was the Canadian's, whereas they had borrowed an unmarked black car and a black SUV from the FBI's Toronto office.

Standing next to their vehicles were people he didn't recognize; two blondes, man and young woman. The man was dressed in cargo shorts and a dark blue dress shirt with top and bottom buttons were casually undone, and Theodore knew he knew the face. The young woman was well dressed, designer white dress slacks with a cashmere sweater on top. There was no time for introductions because they didn't appear to need them:

"Hey Logan. We were asked to offer a ride."

Theodore stared with some level of confusion as the man spoke in a familiar and friendly tone to the mutant Theodore had gone up a mountain to retrieve. Before Theodore could say a word, the young blonde spoke, though Theodore's mind snapped to the man's identity in that moment: the young woman sounded as cold as ice, but the man was literally cold as ice--he was the Ice-Man, Bobby Drake. "Deputy Director, we are here on behalf of the nation of Krakoa."

"Okay," was all Theodore heard himself say, as his mind was no longer a step ahead of his words, "then why aren't I hearing about this from my State Department? Are you credentialed with the United States State Department as a representative of your government? Not for nothing, but, if you want people to take you seriously you might try to follow at least one or two rules of being a sovereign state."

The young woman's eyes were crystal blue, and in that moment they smoldered like angry coals. Theodore felt pressure at the corners of his eyes, and it didn't stop until Drake spoke up, cheerily, clearly interrupting, "Yeah, things happened a little fast but! We got a Gateway." Drake moved aside and motioned behind them, to a short, square, dark skinned man that looked Aborigenese, thick white hair with a thick white beard. An old face that looked to Theodore like it had seen more than easily imagined, and said little about it. Theodore looked back up to Drake as the short man gave a silently raised palm in greeting at the site of Logan. Drake immediately knew what Theodore was missing, "Gateway makes portals. Faster than rentals and government planes?"

He could get home possibly days faster without travel time? Theodore nodded, "Yeah, of course. Why didn't you just say so?"

Logan was an unstoppable force of death, Bobby Drake was an Omega level mutant. The girl was a telepath, something he was trained to recognize. What exactly was he going to do? Tell them all to go away? The portal itself was a standard portal, as far as Theodore knew. It was bright enough to not see past it, and circular in shape. The two Krakoans went through first, while his men declined, and the Mountie seemed to wish he could. Logan walked through matter-of-factly. A portal, so what? Old news. Theodore stared, poked, and finally, with the sound of the old man chuckling, went through.

The perimeter camp outside Salem Center, New York, was National Guard metahuman response units and the FBI, though it was the S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles at a nearby cluster of parked vehicles outsides several mobile labs that caught his eye. The Operations Center was where they were supposed to go, Drake and the young blonde just fell in line. Logan did not. In fact, even after Bobby Drake called out twice Logan didn't look to budge an inch. His body faced towards the town, eyes glazed like he could actually see a thousand miles away if he just focused hard enough. Nevermind the only thing visible was highway and old farming homesteads and trees and trees.

All Theodore remembered after calling out to Logan was the flash of light, and scream that followed.