Chapter 10

  Arc 1 - Ch 10: Repercussions

  Date: Saturday, June 5, 2010.

  Location: Bronx, New York

  The needle glinted menagly as Ororo luowards Jubilee . Paed in Tyson's chest, his instincts screaming at him to act. Though no speedster, Tyson's absorbed pave him reflexes beyond any normal human. He shot out a hand, his fingers cmped around Ororo's wrist with the crushing strength of a vice, halting the needle mere inches from Jubilee's vulnerable neck.

  Jubilee shrank back, her usual bubbly bravado repced by naked fear.

  His hyper-focused senses washed over the se, taking in every detail as his mind raced to make sense of Professor Ororo's inexplicable as. When logic failed him, animal instinct took over. He inhaled deeply, nostrils fring as he sought the familiar st of the woman he now held at bay. Ororo's st lived in his memory, imprinted from when they'd first met days earlier.

  The subtle st of nature and the faint but unmistakable undercurrent of rainstorms. He first entered it in the adian wilderness, amid the pirees and fresh, icy air.

  Instead of Ororo's distinctive aroma of an impending rainstorm, this imposter carried a ft, artificial fragrance akin to a sprinkler spraying water across a wn.

  His grip on her wrist tightened as the truth clicked into pce.

  Earlier at the table, this woman's st also cked Ororo's unique signature. The fraud had been masquerading as their professor all day.

  Any s Tyson might have held about leaving the institute were assuaged by the thought that Storm would be watg over them.

  But now, with Jean unscious in her chair, he chastised himself for not staying alert.

  Only one person could be standing before him wearing Ororo's fad attempting to mimic her st.

  The shapeshifter, Mystique.

  Trag his eyes over the long-sleeved turtlened gloves she wore, he noticed that she was pletely covered. It denied him any ake direct tact, triggering his power.

  Mystique had e aware that skin tact was the key to his ability.

  His arm kept her at a distance for now, but his other side was weighed down by Jean's unscious form leaning against him. Another tickled the back of his mind. If events unfolded as in the film, then Mystique was not the only adversary lurking nearby. Sabertooth was no longer a , but others remaioad, the agile mutant with his shing tongue. And of course, the grand mastermind himself. Mago. The thought of fag the metal-maniputing mutayson's nerves on edge. For all his newly gairength, Mago was in a css of his own. Tyson was no match for him, especially here.

  A train car was essentially a giaal box, ripe fo's trol.

  Tyson's mind raced as he analyzed the situation unfolding. The other Brotherhood members would make their move any moment now. His cws itched beh his skin, eager to emerge for battle. He imagiearing apart Mystique, shredding Toad to pieces, then finally killing Mago...

  No.

  Those weren't his thoughts. That was the influence of Sabertooth surfag again. Tysohat he was no match for the metal-maniputing mutant mastermind.

  Not on his own.

  The strain was evident in Tyson's eyes as he struggled with the difficult choice he was now forced to make.

  "Sorry about this," Tyson murmured apologetically though Jean could not hear him.

  One muscur hand remained locked on Mystique's wrist, while his other arm cradled Jean's limp form. Tyson ed his free arm around the unscious Jean and grasped the fabric of his own shirt, slig through it with a single cw extended from his fiip. The shredded fabric fell away, exposing the defined muscles of his chiseled chest and rippling abdomen. As he finished cutting through his clothes, Jean's head lolled toward his bare skin. Tyson hated to take advantage of his friend's vulnerability, but he knew what o be done. With Jean perilously close now, Tyson whipped his cw toward the false Ororo's face. The movement caused Jean to slump heavily against his exposed body.

  The fake Ororo tilted her head, narrowly avoiding Tyson's vicious swipe.

  Her mog ughter rang out through the train car. "Did you think it would be that easy?" she taunted.

  Her appearance rippled and morphed before their eyes, her smooth brown skin shifted into a vivid azure hue. Lush white hair shortened and shifted to a vibrant cherry red. Gone was the visage of Ororo; now Mystique stood smugly before them irue form.

  "You're making a mistake," Tyson warned.

  Mystique's full lips curled into a self-assured smirk, uurbed by his grip on her arm. She cocked her head, regarding him with an air of casual arrogance. "Am I?" her response dripped with dession. "Or is it you who has made the mistake?" She leaned in closer, her faches from his. "There's no X-Meo save you this time."

  As their teandoff tinued, Jean's limp body slowly listed into Tyson's muscur frame. Time seemed to slow. He could feel the soft brush of her long red locks against his bare chest as her head lolled forward. He steeled himself for the onrush of memories soon to flood his mind, and as the exposed skin of her forehead grazed his chest, Tyson began a mental tdown.

  She ying in a suburban backyard, ughing as she levitated toys around her. She felt fear when she first discovered she could hear people's thoughts. Her powers bursting forth uably made her feel isoted and different. Whispers followed her in school, children pointing and parents pulling them away, not wanting their children to make friends with a mutant. She struggled to keep the voices in her head at bay, but then she was discovered by Mago and Xavier. The professor created mental walls to tain her power. Ieenage years, she found her pce at the institute, a home where she wasn’t an outcast. She was passionate and protective of those she loved. She bore the weight of her powers with grace, always striving for trol. She was a mediator, often the voice of reason. The mental walls Xavier built were beginning to weaken, she could feel something else within her. Beyond the walls was…

  One...

  Suddenly, a sharp sensation pricked at Tyson's temples, as though a dam had burst within his mind, unleashing a deluge of thoughts, emotions, and voices. He could hear the distant murmurs of every passenger orain. Their hopes, fears, memories, and desires were id bare.

  It was overwhelming.

  The cacophony of inner voices threateo drown him, each psyche an open book for him to peruse. He sehe young mother's worry for her child, her fear of judgment from other passengers mixing with ride. The anxious thoughts of the young man across the aisle bombarded Tyson, his nerves over an impending job interview pgued by self-doubt. In the back of the car, an elderly woman's nostalgia for her youth washed over him in bittersweet waves.

  With Jean's telepathy now iwining with his senses, he felt awash in a sea of empathy. Tyson could almost taste the kaleidoscope of emotions; the sweet joy of reuniting with a loved ohe spicy arousal of a furtive ghe bitter tang of jealousy a. Each sensation was distind overwhelming. The suddeh of insight was intoxig. He saw himself reflected in every mind, his hopes and fears mingling with those of the strangers around him. For a moment, the lines between their psyches blurred into a collective sciousness, at once beautiful and terrifying in its intimacy. Tyson g to his sense of self, even as Jean's power threateo dissolve the boundaries between himself and all the minds in the area.

  Two…

  The cacophony of voices eg in Tyson's head was deafening, each distinct thought aion crashing together like waves in a turbulent sea. With Jean's memories came a glimpse of the discipline she had honed under Professor X's tutege, the mental barriers erected to restrain the full torrent of her telepathic abilities.

  But Tyson didn't have those walls.

  He was left as a raw, open duit for the psychic maelstrom. Oion rose above them all.

  Anger.

  It may have e from the simmering bitterness of a passenger seated nearby or drifted from some distant mind. Perhaps it emanated from the feral ers of Tyson's psyche, where Sabertooth's animal fury lingered.

  But the source did not matter.

  The sheer iy of this anger resonated within Tyson, drawing him in like a moth to a fme. He felt the heat of it rising as the emotion built upon itself, rese feediment. A floodgate had been opened, and with Jean's powers uraihe full force of this rage poured through Tyson's mind unchecked, an unstoppable psychic tsunami.

  Three…

  Tyson g desperately to his sense of self, struggling not to be swept away in the riptide as the anger crested. But he was drowning, the mounting fury threatening to dissolve the boundaries between his mind and the others that now intruded upon his thoughts.

  A moment of focus surged through his mind, honing his awareo a razor's edge. His senses fred, warning him of immi danger. He felt the hostile i radiating from a nearby foe; the unmistakable sensation of an enemy poised to strike.

  Toad.

  Tyson zeroed in on the vilin just as his long, slimy tongue shot out towards an unsuspeg Jubilee. Still reeling from the shock of Ororo's ued attad Tyson's forceful response, Jubilee looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, oblivious to the sneak attack.

  With a mental shove as forceful as a wreg ball, he lifted Toad's sy frame and flung him across the car. Surprise registered on Toad's face. His trajectory ended with a loud crash as his body smmed into the rear wall and slumped to the floor in a limp pile.

  Around them, passengers screamed in terror at the ma violently hurled through the cramped, lurg train car.

  Four…

  Mystique struggled against Tyson's iron grip, but his hand remained locked around her arm like a vice. She watched in mounting horror as his free hand swung towards her in slow motion.

  She strained her muscles to their limits. Mystique was far strohan she looked, her shapeshifting prantirength beyond the greatest of humans. But it wasn't enough to break Tyson's grip on her wrist. More than that, some invisible, telekiic force, gripped her entire body, preventing her from twisting away.

  Five…

  Tyson guided Jean into the seat beside him ensuring not to make any further direct skin tact. He knew even a few more seds of touch could prove devastating, if not lethal. "Keep her safe, Jubilee," he said in a low voice. "Don't worry about me. Escape if you ."

  His massive hand cmped over Mystique's face, sm her features from to hairline. A ragged cry died ihroat as she felt her life force being leeched from her body in a torturous rush.

  She was a young blue-skinned girl shunned by a world that hated her for being different. She attempted desperately to fit in, but hiding her unique plexion was challenging; her power was difficult to trol. When she mastered it, the world around her became a vas, and she was the brush, able to paint herself into any se or situation. She could bee anyone, or anything, with just a thought. She allied with Mago who shared a dream of a world where mutants wouldn't have to hide who they were. She became whoever she o be to plot against those who sought to harm their kind. She was a baroness, a mother, a terrorist, a crime lord, a murderer, and more; she had taken as many titles as she had forms.

  As the memories flooded into his mind, Tyso his cells bealleable, his rigid form loosening into a fluid adaptability. Along with Mystique's shapeshifting came a measure of mental discipline. Raven Darkholme had learo trol her power by partmentalizing her mind, a y for being other people, without losing herself. This ability grayson a sliver of respite against the overwhelming psychic might ied from Jean. Although far from perfect, Mystique's psychic fortitude gave him a foothold, a ce to filter the barrage of sensations aions from Jean's telepathy. His mind calmed ever so slightly as he felt Jean's anding presence alongside Mystique's ing intellect, both guiding and influeng him from within. The two mutants' powers and experiences melded into his psyche. Tyson focused, ging to that foothold, striving to baheir g wills with his own.

  One…

  The g psyches warring within Tyso tradictory impulses surging through his mind. Aggression vied with passivity. ing cshed with timidity. But one drive cut through. They were utack.

  Aggression won out.

  Two…

  With sudden force born of superhuman strength, Tyson lunged across the train car, dragging Mystique along by her head still gripped in his hand. He smmed her into the wall beside the window. Gss shattered from the impact, allowing outside air to whip wildly into the train. The metal wall groaned and buckled uyson's strength.

  The abrupt violence sent shockwaves through the panicked passengers. It wasn't only psychological, in his ayson released a telekiic wave. uters in the immediate area were knocked down or away, out of their seats and into the aisles. Others scrambled and screamed, tripping over abandoned luggage and other passengers in desperation to flee the fight.

  Three…

  Tyson was merciless in his assault. Mystique's head and torso were now embedded itered wall. For Tyson, time seemed to slow, the chaos around him faded as he focused on his target. She struggled furiously, pummeling his arms and g at his fingers, but her strength was nothing pared to his might. She was trapped, her life ebbing away beh his uing grasp.

  Four…

  Tyson's inner voices cshed in tumultuous debate, some pleading with him not to take another life with his touch, others insisting they did not kill, that was not who they were. But the darkest parts cried out in bloodlust, reveling at the thought of snuffing out Mystique's life force. Her struggles were weak, it wouldn't be long now… only seds. But ohought rose above the rest.

  Killing her would be a waste.

  As Tyson sifted through the kaleidoscope of her memories, an evil grin spread across his face.

  He would break her instead.

  His skin rippled as it transformed, darkening to a deep crimson, the ge creeping from his fingers up his arms like lig fmes. Tyson's features torted; his jaw extending slightly as his face pulled taut h cheekbones. His eyes flooded bck, from sclera to pupil, being pools of endless midnight. A wild mane of jet-bck hair sprouted from his scalp and a preheail with a spade tip unfurled behind him.

  His body shifted into a perfect doppelganger of Azazel.

  He pulled his hand back from her face. Mystique remained pinned by an invisible force. His telekinesis held her prisainst the battered train wall. Her yellow eyes went wide with dismay and reition. A malicious pleasure radiated from him, an aura of domination and trol. He leaned in close, his cool breath tingling her skin.

  "I'm back, Raven... and I want our child."

  His voice dripped malevolence as he uhed one of Mystique's deepest secrets.

  Tyson, the false Azazel, loomed over her. Though he bore the demon's visage, he cked Azazel's i charm. He could hrall Mystique as the real Azazel had beguiled Illyana. But manipution was not solely the devil's domain.

  The train car thrummed with unseen power as Tyson eled the full might of Jean Grey's telepathic abilities. Psychiergy built like an overwhelming tide, pressing against Mystique's mind. The very air grew dense, charged with psionic potential. She had alrided herself on her mental defenses. stant shape-shifting made her mind an ever-shifting byrinth that protected her against telepathitrusion. But Azazel's sudden appearance, coupled with Tyson's intimate knowledge of her weaknesses, and Jean's overwhelming telepathy, left a cra her armor. And Tyson seized upon it ruthlessly.

  The mental assault smmed into her like a battering ram besieging a fortress. Mystique's golden eyes went wide with dismay as the sheer magnitude of the psychic attack overwhelmed her. The false Azazel leaned in, his breath cold against her skin.

  "You belong to me," he murmured, his voice dripping with cruel certainty. "Forever tainted by my touch."

  It felt like invisible fingers w their way into her mind, unraveling the very threads of her identity. Mystique's defiant facade faltered, her eyes clouding with fear, fusion, and anguish. She recoiled from the mental and physical viotion, movements staggered as if struggling through quid. The strong-willed shapeshifter suddenly seemed fragile, shaken to her core. The brutal psychic attad cruel words left a perma mark on her psyche.

  But Tyson's domination of Mystique's mind was interrupted as the train car shuddered. Metal screamed as it ed and twisted around them, causing him to freeze and the hair on his o stand on end.

  The rigid walls peeled open like the skin of a fruit, metallidrils unfurling and reag for him with serpentine hunger. Above, the roof split apart, unveiling the sky and the figure desding from on high.

  Mago.

  He floated down with outstretched arms, radiating raw pravity seemed to bend to his will, his dest steady and deliberate. To Tyson, he looked every inch the messiah e to mete out judgment.

  Around him, the train car tis nightmarish transformation. Under Mago's trol, the metal lining the walls and chairs rippled as if alive, slowly advang on Tyson. The metal appeared almost liquid while under trol of Mago's power. But Tysohat beh that deceptive fluidity y a strength when wielded by an Omega-level mutant.

  Regardless of the danger looming ever closer, Tyson found himself relut to release his captive. Mystique's golden eyes were wide with naked fear. His telekiic grip kept her pinned.

  A fsh of uainty flickered through him as he had a moment of introspe. He wondered if his brutality was the lingering influence of Sabertooth's bestial instincts slowly seeping into his psyche. Or was it a calcuted ruthlessness instilled by Mystique's memories, an unwillio relinquish trol of a nearly defeated enemy? And was it Jean's i passion that now stirred within, urging him to show mercy? Tyson had no answers. The voices of those whose powers and memories he'd absorbed cshed within him. Allies and enemies vying for dominance.

  Unsure what Mago valued more; saving his shapeshifting ally or capturing Tyson for himself caused the young mutant to hesitate. Would the metal-wielding supremacist's devotion to his cause outweigh his loyalty? Indecision paralyzed Tyson, even as his window for a shrank with each passing sed. He knew he couldn't afford the luxury of time to think with Mago desding upon him like an avenging angel.

  Tyson had to act, and fast.

  Uhe perceived slow motion of his enhanced seyson sprang into a. His muscur arm tightened protectively, almost possessively around Mystique's slender frame. Her shape felt feather-light against his formidable strength as he carried her bridal style, like an awkwardly rge football that he now had to safeguard. Each long stride carried them closer toward escape even as the encroag tendrils of metal slithered after them. Sabertooth's predatory instincts had hoyson's reflexes to a razor's edge. Now they guided his every movement, turning the train car into his pyground. His enhanced agility allowed him to flow between passengers. He ducked under grasping arms, and pivoted around filing bodies, using each surface to propel himself forward. The feral power coiled tightly in his muscles unleashed with each dodge and swerve, while Mago's makeshift ons shed just out of reach.

  Tyson was a hunter now, with the trai in his sights. He tuned out the chaotic cries rising around him, fog only on his target ahead. Just a few more steps until he breached the car, esg into the city with his prize still in hand. The predator within urged him on, guiding his steps toward the doors.

  Until a sudden, invisible force jerked him to a halt.

  fusion fshed across his face as Mystique was ripped from his clutches, her body flying backward through the air.

  How?

  Tyson's mind raced, searg for an expnation. Then it hit him from within her memories. In his haste to absorb Mystique's past and o against her, he overlooked something in her ret thoughts.

  Mago pnned a tingen case he might o use his abilities on one of his own. Mystique wore weighted metal ptes cealed under her disguise. And now Mago was calling to those ptes, his power dragging Mystique from Tyson's grasp.

  Quickly tering, Tyson tapped into Jean's telekiic gift, halting Mystique's flight mid-air. Her body went rigid, suspended awkwardly as Tyson's will held firm against the pull of Mago's power.

  In a fsh, Tyson's cws sliced through the fabriystique's outfit, shredding it to ribbons. The weights beh tumbled free. Mago's hold tinued dragging the released metal weights through the air toward himself.

  Tyson bared his teeth in a savage grin, ready to recim his prize.

  He wasted no time in scooping up Mystique and tinuing his retreat. In tearing apart the train car to use the metal against him, Mago had created several holes that offered escape routes.

  Suddenly, an impact like a gunshot rocked him from behind. He staggered, biting back a grunt as pain reverberated through him. It felt like being struck by a charging bull. Though his body absorbed Sabertooth's resilie couldn't e the full force of the blow. Then more impacts followed in a ceaseless barrage. After the third crushing blow, he stumbled, dropping Mystique and leaving her in favor of using his arms to defend himself.

  Finally, Tyson spun around angry and shocked to see the source of the relentless assault. Mago's ferrokinesis altered the weights from Mystique's vest, shaping them into menag bullets. He'd turyson's clever move against him, wielding the weights as instruments of his downfall. Tyson realized these were more than bullets, they were huge, like onballs, and accelerated to bone-crushing speeds. With each hit, the train car shuddered uhe impacts of their force. His bones shattered with every strike, healing just in time for the .

  Mystique's limp form y fotten, as all his foarrowed to withstanding the bombardment.

  Behind the ses

  - This se was inspired in part by X-Men (2000), X-3, and Dark Phoenix

  - Mystique usually doesn’t wear clothes, relying on her power to create them. In this case, she did, knowing the effects of Tyson’s touch.

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