Chapter 11

  Arc 1 - Ch 11: Rumble in the Bronx

  Date: Saturday, June 5, 2010.

  Location: Bronx, New York

  Tyson could feel the tide turning against him as Mago's attacks intensified. Though he had held his own so far, the writing was on the walls, and it did not bode well.

  The cm chorus of psyches raged iyson's mind, mixing with all the mental chatter from the people in the area was being unbearable. All around him, the train's metal ed and writhed, animated by Mago's power into tendrils snaking toward him.

  The psyches within him reached a unanimous verdict. This train car was a death trap.

  He couldn't stay here, not with so much metal at Mago's and. And his friends were still aboard. If he stayed, he put them at risk as well.

  Tyson crouched low, coiling his muscles like springs wound to their limit. With an explosive burst, he unched himself upward with every ounce of his superhuman strength, rocketing out of the opening irain car's roof toward the open sky above. He seized Jean Grey's telekiic power, using it to defy gravity's pull before it could drag him back down. The gusting winds whipped through his hair and clothes, as he flew with the power of Jean Grey and his will.

  The train rumbled onward without him, leaving Tyson h in midair as Mago followed, rising from the train on currents of magic force.

  For a moment, h in the sky, he felt free. But below, he could see Mago's swirliallidrils pursuing him skyward like a of angry snakes.

  Tyson braced himself as the metalli surged toward him. Jean's telekiic power coursed through him, but it was wild and untamed. He had only partial trol since she had only ever harnessed a fra of her full potential. Still, raw psychiergy simmered within, yearning to be unleashed.

  As the first razed shards neared him, Tyson thrust his arms forward and unleashed a massive telekiic wave. The invisible force smashed into the onial, momentarily halting its advance. But Mago's will drove the shards onward, refusing to be denied.

  Tysohe immensity of Jean's gift swirling within him, both emp and overwhelming. Mago's decades of experience gave him a decisive edge when it came to trol. But Tyson matched it with the strength he borrowed from Jean.

  "You 't win this!" Mago's voice echoed across the distance, brimming with arrogance.

  Tyson's face hardened with determination. Pying defense would only dey the iable. He needed a actid fast. Reag out with his mind, he gripped the swirlial fragments, struggling to slow their relentless approach. At the same time, he turned his focus toward the ground, seeking a different on. Below, the streets were lined with parked cars and sparse trees, all surrounded by gray asphalt. The cars were useless, easy pigs fo's powers. Instead, Tyson seized ses of the road itself, ripping them free and ung the jagged ks of pavement upward in a furious barrage.

  The crete missiles rocketed toward Mago. Tyson flung them relentlessly, finally turning his stolen power from defeo offense.

  The air crackled with energy as Tyson and Mago cshed in a spectacur dispy of power. Jagged ks of asphalt rocketed through the sky, propelled by Tyson's telekiic might. Each deadly projectile was met with a shimmering wall of magic force as Mago deflected them with swift gestures.

  Tyson allowed himself a fierce grin as one particurly massive sb of crete narrowly missed his foe. But Mago quickly regained his posure, bringing his hands together with a look of intense focus. The air around him pulsated and hummed as he summoned a stric shield, doh simply blog each attack.

  Notig the shift in strategy, Tyson began hurling full sbs of asphalt directly at the master of magism, testing the enhanced defenses. As expected, they were effortlessly diverted, skimming along the curved surfaago's shield before careening to either side.

  Uerred, Tyson adjusted his tactics, fog his telekiic power. With a deep breath, he tore the street below into tiny, granuted fragments, gathering them into a swirling mass overhead. Then with a grunt of exertion, he unleashed them in a widespread volley, the asphalt rocketing forth like pellets from a shotgun. The air was filled with a blurred chaos of high-velocity shrapnel. Mago's eyes widened briefly in surprise before he whirled his hands, strengthening his shield's spin to deflect the ining fire. Most of the shards were turned away in puffs of dust and sparks, but a few found their mark, grazing past Mago's armor and leaving behind scratches and trails of grit.

  Mago's decades of experience gave him an edge, allowing him to wield magic forces with practiced finesse. But Tyson's raw psychic might kept the master of magism at bay, matg his attacks blow for blow.

  "Impressive," Mago called out mogly, his voice dripping with pt. "But how long you keep this up, boy?"

  "You may have the advantage of experienan," he shot back, "but I have Mystique's memories. I know why you're so desperate to capture me, to stick me in that mae of yours. That traption is a death sentence, and I have no iion of letting you put me in it."

  He lowered himself onto the rooftop. Without needing to trate oation, he could bring more power to bear. Reag out with his telekinesis, he attempted to wrench Mago's helmet free, to expose his mind. But he cked the fine trol needed for such a maneuver. Mago's shield held fast, preventing any direct telekiic strikes.

  "If you believe in your cause so deeply the in the mae and sacrifice yourself," Tyson called out.

  Mago's eyes narrowed, his arrogance finally giving way to a this upstart's audacity. "Then who will lead the new mutants?" he sneered.

  Tyson knew he couldn't have lo with Jean's power. He had hoped to overpower the master of magism quickly, but Mago had matched him. Without Xavier's mental barriers, Jean's raw psychiergy coursed through him unchecked and he cked the disciplio trol it to the point he could challenge Mago evenly. Soon the power would fade. He should retreat while he still could. Yet the aggressive, feral part of him howled to kill this old fool who dared hunt him down like an animal. Another voice, calmer but no less firm, whispered that Mago would op pursuing him. And o voice, more tired than the rest, cried out they just wao be left alone.

  Tyson's iurmoil waged on as he tinued his relentless psychic barrage against Mago, b the master of magism with wave after crushing wave of telekiiergy and hurling debris.

  With subtle flicks of his fingers, Mago andeered the metallic framework of the surrounding buildings. Like liquid metal e to life, the girders and pipes began to slither and crawl down the edifices, guided by Mago's imperceptible maniputions. The tendrils of metal soward Tyson, creeping up on him from both sides of the street while his attention stayed fixed to shatter Mago's shields.

  Mago's face was a mask of intense tratioraying no hint of the intricate maneuvers happening just out of Tyson's sight. Years of experience allowed the metal-wielder to multitask, dividing his powers between maintaining his protective bubble against Tyson's psychic barrage, and stealthily maneuvering the liquid-metal tendrils into position for a devastating pitack. Tyson's senses remained oblivious to the mortal danger coiling around him.

  Multiple metal tendrils crept over the edge of the rooftop. Without warning, they shot out from the edge pierg through Tyson's body, causing him to gasp in pain. The element of surprise had been on Mago's side, and he used it ruthlessly.

  Tyson's eyes widened in shock as the etal tore through his flesh. The pain was immediate and inteealing his breath away. He looked down to see the tendrils protruding from his chest and abdomen, their razor-sharp tips dripping with his blood.

  "You should have surrendered when you had the ce," Mago's voice rang out, tinged with a cruel satisfa.

  Tyson was so focused on his telekiic assault that he failed to notice Mago's stealthy mahe metal tendrils began to writhe and twist inside him, sending fresh waves of agony c through his body. With a herculean effort, Tyson reached out with his borrowed telekiic power, attempting to push the metal out of his body. But Mago's trol was absolute, and the tendrils remained firmly iheir edges sawing at his insides with every movement. Blood began to pool around Tyson's feet, staining the rooftop a dark crimson.

  Mago desded slowly from the night sky, his cape billowing behind him as he hovered just above the rooftop. His eyes gleamed with triumph as he regarded the boy falling to his knees before him.

  "I must admit, you've proven to be quite the challenge," Mago said, his tone almost versational despite the circumstances. "But in the end, you made a grave mistake when you killed Sabertooth. Had you not been gifted his extraordinary healing abilities, I may have o hold back so as not to kill you."

  Tyson gritted his teeth, fighting back a groan as the metal tendrils twisted deeper into his torso. Blood dripped from his lips, spttering on the crete below.

  "Fear not, you may yet survive the mae and live to see me reshape this world into a mutant utopia," Mago tinued. "Think of it as an opportunity. And if you don't… Well, your sacrifice will help usher in a new age for our kind."

  The metal tendrils in his body began to retract, pulling him toward the edge of the rooftop where Mago hovered. Tyson's feet dragged across the blood-slicked surface as he was inexorably drawn towards his captor. The metal tendrils coiled around him like a strictor, squeezing tighter and tighter. He struggled against their vice-like grip, but everength he had absorbed from Sabertooth could not break him free. Fear and shock widened his eyes as his breaths came in short, strained gasps. Eahale carried the sharp, metallic st of his blood.

  Despair began to eclipse the pain. The thought of being reduced to a mere power source for his enemy cwed at his mind as fiercely as the metal pierg him tore his body. His fiwitched weakly in a futile attempt to find some handhold, some small bit of leverage to free himself. But the metal only responded by strig further, biting deeper into him.

  This would not be his end. Raw and all-ing, the fires of his determination eled into the remnants of Jean's telepathic abilities.

  His eyes, dulled moments before by agony, now glowed.

  Bzed.

  Every ounce of pain became fuel for one final, desperate act. His scream was a mixture of anguish and fury, that promised untold destru and used the st bit of breath in his lungs. But it also carried a telepathic pulse so potent it brought everyone nearby to their knees, hands clutched over their ears as a tidal wave of suffering crashed over them.

  Tyson focused this energy, this collective pain, directly at his target. He bore down on Mago's shields with everything he had left, causing the magic barriers to fluctuate and .

  Mago's expression shifted from triumph to arm. He responded by squeezing the metal coils around Tyson impossibly tighter. The tendrils morphed further, no longer just ropes threading through the young man.

  Hundreds of sharp spikes erupted from the metal.

  Metal spikes pierced his flesh elig an agonized scream that echoed through the open rooftop. Despite the pain, he refused to give in. Calling o remnants of Jean's telepathic power, he battered against Mago's shields.

  Reag deep within himself, he tapped into a vast, untamed well of psioniergy. With a guttural roar, Tyson focused everything he had into one final psychic assault.

  Fiery energy bzed from his eyes.

  Unleashing a telepathic bst more powerful than anything he had managed before. The very air rippled with psychic force as he brought his full might down upon Mago's defenses.

  But as Jean's borrowed power rapidly faded, so too did Tyson. A feeling of numbness crept over his tortured body. The agony of his impaled flesh receded, along with his rage and desperation.

  As his world dimmed, the st embers of defiance slipped through Tyson's fingers. Darkness encroached on his vision, being him into its cold embrace. He struggled feebly against its pull, but it was no use. With a st gasp of defeat, his eyes closed, and his body went limp.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Illyana Rasputin strode purposefully through the halls of Xavier's Institute. Her face was set in a determined frown, blue eyes fshing with annoyand . She'd spent most of the day mulling over her frontation with Tyson and their battle with Azazel in Limbo the previous day. The memory of it still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  As she approached Professor Xavier's office, Illyana couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off. Throughout the day, she'd seyson's presence around the institute. She couldn't quite expin why, but she had an inexplicable awareness of his location. That was, until dinner, when she went to front him and realized that sensation had vanished pletely.

  She'd sed the cafeteria, searg for his face among the crowd of students, thinking that her senses were pying tricks on her. His usual table, where he often sat with Jean Grey and Jubilee, was spicuously empty. Illyana had hesitated, debating whether to check his room. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her.

  She'd made her way to the boys' level of the dormitory, knog on Tyson's door. When no answer came, she used her powers to teleport inside, only to find the room empty. No sign of Tyson, Jean, or Jubilee.

  Now, standing before Xavier's office door, Illyana knocked firmly. At the professor's invitation, she entered, her eyes immediately log onto the wheelchair-bound telepath.

  "Professor," Illyana began, her voice tight with barely tained frustration, "I o know if Tyson's been expelled."

  Xavier's brow furrowed slightly at the abrupt question. "Expelled? No, Illyana, I spoke with you all together. No further punishment was given to any of you for your misuanding. Why would you think that?"

  Illyana crossed her arms, her stance defensive. "He's not in his room, not at dinner. I 't..." She hesitated mentioning that she sensed him earlier and couldn't any longer. "Jean and Jubilee are missing too."

  The professor's expression grew serious. He closed his eyes, his fingers pressing against his temples in tration. Xavier reached out with his powerful telepathic abilities, searg for the missing students. Illyana watched, her impatience growing with each passing sed. She could feel the tension building in her shoulders, her fiwitg with the urge to do something, anything. After what felt like ay, Xavier's eyes snapped open. The grave look on his face sent a chill down Illyana's spine.

  "Illyana," he said, "please return to your room. Don't worry. I'll find them."

  She opened her mouth to protest and demand more information, but Xavier held up a hand to silence her.

  "Please," he tinued, his tone brooking nument, "return to your dorm."

  Illyana stood there, frustration and impatience brewing within her like a gathering storm. She wanted answers, and o know what dire situation had prompted the professor's rea. But Xavier dismissed her presence, his wrinkled brow and grave tone veying that his thoughts were already far away and ahead, focused on whatever unseen crisis demanded his attention.

  With visible effort, Illyana bit back the torrent of questions poised oongue. Whatever was happening, clearly the professor wasn't going to speak on it further. Not now. She could see the tension in his eyes. This was serious. Lives could be at stake.

  g her fists, Illyana pivoted sharply and strode from Xavier's office. The door smmed behind her with a resounding thud that echoed down the empty hallway.

  As she marched back to her dorm, irritation simmered within her. Whatever was going on didn't involve her. Wasn't her problem. She didn't care what happeo those other students... Tyson with his smug grin that set her teeth on edge, Jean and her insufferable perfe, Jubilee always boung around like an er puppy. At least that's what Illyana told herself. But try as she might, she couldn't ighe cold tendril of dread snaking up her spine. Couldn't fet the look of grim that had clouded Xavier's face. Something was very wrong.

  Brushing off her thoughts, Illyana buried any of her feelings ouation underh yers of outward indifference.

  Professor Xavier gathered his team of X-Men. Tyson's absence was arming enough. But finding that Jean and Jubilee were also missing made the situation far more urgent.

  "Tyson is missing," Xavier stated, his tone heavy with worry. "Illyana couldn't find him at dinner, and the other students are not responding to my telepathic calls."

  Cyclops adjusted his visor, his jaw set. "Any idea where he might've gone?"

  "I'm not certain. But we o find them and ehey're safe," Xavier replied. The creases on his forehead deepened as he focused his telepathic abilities.

  Colossus ched his metallic fists, the resounding thud eg through the room. "We will bring them home," he rumbled.

  Logan didn't need any ving. He'd e of his own volition. He felt a strong e to the boy after Tyson had revealed so much of his hidden past to him. "Let's move."

  As they prepared to depart, Xavier picked up on something through his telepathy. A news broadcast had drawention of several students. He quickly switched it on.

  Glimpses of flying debris, a train, and figures battling in the sky as a headline fshed across the bottom of the s.

  'Unknown Mutants Wreak Havo the Bronx!'

  "That's where he is. Damn, kid's always fighting," Logan grumbled.

  Without wasting another sed, the X-Men sprioward the Bckbird.

  — Rogue Rept —

  The Bckbird hovered momentarily before nding with a gehud atop the devastated rooftop. As the X-Men disembarked, the full extent of the destru came into view. The entire block resembled a warzone, littered with rubble and twisted metal. Massive ks of asphalt had been ripped from the street below, evidence of a titanic battle. At the epiter y a sight that froze the heroes iracks.

  The limp body of Mago, his leg twisted at an awkward angle. His cape yed beh him, his eyes closed in unsciousness.

  Just a few feet away, a metal co wound tight as a vise, with the unmoving form of a person inside.

  "Is that...?" Cyclops began, but Logan's stony expression silehe question on his lips.

  Ororo approached the co, sorrow, and anger warring in her eyes. "It's Tyson," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.

  Logan's cws sprang forth with a snikt. "We o get him out. Now."

  As Logan's adamantium cws sliced through the metal bonds, he peeled back yer after yer, revealing a horrific sight. The inner coils weren't just ed around Tyson, they had been cruelly embedded into his flesh. Thin spikes of metal pierced through his skin at multiple points, anch him iheir sharp tips embedded in muscle and ans.

  Cyclops inhaled sharply, hesitation in his voice. "Logan, are you sure we should…"

  "We've got no choice!" Logan spat. "We o get him out of this thing, whatever it takes."

  The sight was ghastly. Logan had to summon every ounce of fortitude to keep from recoiling in horror. Each agonizing pull on the cruel spikes was met with a siing squelch as the metal tore through flesh and muscle. Dark blood pooled around them, turning the se into something from a gruesome nightmare.

  Storm's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling, "Could he survive this?"

  Logan grunted jaw ched with determination as he carefully gripped another spike, using his adamantium cws to delicately slice open a gap around its base. "If he heals like me, he's got a ce," he rasped, though the doubt in his gravelly voice was evident. The boy's injuries went far beyond anything they had ever witnessed.

  Colossus walked over to the edge of the rooftop and puked, uo offer any meaningful assistance. Cyclops barked orders, "Storm, take Colossus and go check the train station for Jean and Jubilee. Search for any damaged train cars."

  Each wretched spike Logan removed was a reminder of the depths Mago would sink to for his cause. "He's just a kid," he muttered through ched teeth, more to himself than anyone, as he tinued his grim task.

  The final spike was the most harrowing, lodged precariously close to the boy's heart. Logan inhaled slowly, tering his focus. With utmost care, he maneuvered his cws around the spike's bloodied shaft, aking his eyes off Tyson's ashen face. Then, in one swift motion, he wre free, holding his breath as he waited desperately for any faint sign of life from the broken form before him.

  Behind the ses

  - This se was inspired in part by X-Men First Css, X-3, Deadpool, and Dark Phoenix.

  - The Phoenix Force is attracted to several things, two of them being powerful psychid Jean Grey. With Jean unscious, and Tyson abs her powers, with no limitations, he became both. Though the symbolism is present, Tyson has not bee the Phoenix, he merely attracts its attention for a moment.

  - Snu Colossus puking, like in Deadpool

  Support Plug

  For those of you ied in supp my writing.

  patreon./Steatoda

  For Arc 5, every chapter had its own cover image.

  One buck membership gets you access to the galleries (Chapters 15, 28, 42, 44, 47, 50, and 53)

  Five bucks membership gets one chapter ahead and access to NSFW galleries (Ily, Felicia, Nat)

  Ten bucks membership gets the same as above, but two chapters ahead, an exclusive what if, and a preview of the Arc 7 cover ( love i)