Gravel crunched under Logan’s feet as he was the first to step out of the Blackbird; despite Scott’s order to stay back.
‘Logan, get the fuck back here, we don’t know what we’re up against!’
Scott’s words were as unheeded as he knew they would be, and the team hung back a few steps behind the rebel that threatened to get himself killed.
They walked for what felt like an eternity until Scott chanced making the first move.
‘Jean? Are you picking up any thoughts?’
Jean shook her head no, ‘No- no thoughts, but I feel something.’
Scott turned to her, ‘What?’
‘Like- like a force, it’s unstable and strong… too strong.’
The team stood shocked at the confession.
Maybe they weren’t ready for this and why hadn’t anything been said before the question was asked?
Either way, they were there and the Phoenix as it was called had to be faced and taken down.
Logan was the first to sober; breaking out of the statuesque state which had befallen them all and continuing his search.
Releasing the claws from both hands, Logan yelled into the dead air; ‘Come out you fuckin’ piece of shit!’
Scott took hold of Logan’s shoulder forcing an unexpected, but unobstructed turn that left the leader with a deep knick through his right cheek.
He wiped the blood away deftly.
‘What. The fuck. Do you think you’re doing?’
Oddly enough, the words came from Logan’s mouth as his claws remained out; blades facing his teammate.
Before Scott could respond, preferably preceding a punch to Logan’s thick adamantium skull for disregarding orders and putting the team in danger, a blast of energy made it’s way out if nowhere and the physical form that had once been Scott ceased to exist; becoming nothing more than a pile of ashes.
And oh, how funny it would have been if not truly occurring.
It was absurd; yet, very real and Jean screamed bloody murder as she watched her fiancé turn into what was traditionally placed in hideously decorated urns that sat upon old relatives’ mantles.
The entire team looked around for the source of this disaster, but as quickly as it happened; the force or whatever it was, had gone.
Storm grabbed hold of Jean who was still screaming and reaching out for a non-existent Scott.
Storm cried for Scott too; causing a net of lightning to form in the sky.
Remy and Kurt stuck close, standing back to back; each one afraid to let their guard down in the situation that was clearly to big for them to handle.
German prayers and broken French mantras could be heard in the renewed dead air of the night.
Somewhere between Scott’s abrupt death and Jean’s screams, Logan’s inner-beast broke free and he began tearing through hollow wind.
It was impossible to determine the exact cause and effects of anything that had happened previous to the Blackbird’s landing, but one thing was clear… none of it was in the plan.
‘What de fuck we do now?’ asked the normally cool Cajun.
There was no answer; just the sound of Jean still screaming, Storm crying, Kurt praying and Wolverine loosing his fuckin’ mind.
The gravel beneath the team broke apart as Jean clenched her fist; cutting veins and grinding bone.
In her state she began to feel a pull, a force; the one she’d felt only a half hour before.
Out of nowhere once more; past Wolverine, through Storm, the Phoenix found it’s target.
Jean blacked out.
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