The X-Project

The last team makes it to the machine to rescue their people, only to face Zemo in the process.



They had cleared out of the lava tube they'd used to gain access to the Doom Fortress, only to find the cavernous space lit with emergency lights and the area to be full of men in orange uniforms or technicians in white lab coats and hardhats rushing to and fro, without the time to spare a look at the stacks of crates they were hidden behind, watching. In the centre of the room, the Thermal Gigantinator squatted, massive and sprawling. Attached to a tree-like support above it were tables, with their friends strapped to it.

Garrison put down the gunsight he'd borrowed from his father, and turned back to the huddled team of X-Men. "Everyone looks unharmed, but they seem pretty out of it. Depending on how long they've been strapped up like that, they're not going to be able to get out of here under their own power."

Kurt nodded at that. "I can get to one of them unnoticed, and perhaps out again before anyone reacts. After that, I may need a distraction."

"I'll help untie them," Jennie said, cracking her knuckles. The youngest member of the retrieval team was deadly calm, containing the sheer amount of rage that boiled just beneath the surface. They'd dared take one of hers, and they would pay.

Forge looked out at the massive machine, his eyes twitching back and forth. "This is insane," he said in a quiet voice tinged with something like awe. "There is no way that should work, but it ... does. It's like... it takes all the energy and bounces it around like a laser, but it's using heat and... okay, that makes sense but..." He shook his head, then turned to the others. "It's like he took all this... outdated and archaic technology and kit-bashed it together and there's so many more elegant and simple ways he could have done it, but..."

Looking over at the elder Kane, Forge just shrugged. "Okay, he's a wacko Prussian psychotic, but you have to admit, the guy's kind of brilliant. Like, almost me-levels of brilliant. And... wait, is that... did he design it to look like a forty-foot-tall replica of his own head? All right, he's crazy, but he's got style."

"You thought I was joking about the particle beam that could of blown up the moon? Believe me, there was a reason that all of this was buried. Can you imagine this technology in the hands of all the superpowers during the Cold War?" Christian Kane said, looking over the situation. "Those tables have them both strapped and then locked in. That's going to take some time to free them. Mister Sefton, please don't think I'm imposing--"

"But he is." Garrison said dryly.

"If you can get Mister Forge to the tables once the other team has killed the power core, the remainder of us can see about drawing their attention away for a short time." Kane finished ignoring his son. Garrison took another quick look and handed the sight back.

"I think he's right, Nightcrawler. Roulette and I can make a lot of noise over there, and that should draw their fire long enough to get them clear." As if on quote, the lights flickered and dimmed, signifying that Nate's team had reached the core. "Your call, chief."

Forge reached out to put a hand on Jennie's shoulder as soon as he noticed his teammate bristling. While her animosity towards Garrison was nothing short of legendary, now was not the best time to question the situation. "Let it slide," he whispered through his teeth. "Just cover me and Nightcrawler, and we'll be fine..."

Kurt looked to Forge, waiting until he'd finished speaking, then nodded. "I think Roulette may be the best placed to create a very large distraction, and perhaps help us with those locks at the same time. If there is a weakness in them, she will find it from here."

"Right," muttered Jennie. She cautiously peered out from behind the crates, squinting as she did, making the lines stand out starkly in contrast to everything else. A few seconds ticked by as she frowned deeper and deeper before sighing and turning back to her companions. "I can hit it," she said, "trip the locks, but I don't know if it's going to cause a chain reaction or not and blow them all up while they're still attached." Then she spied something else out of the corner of her eye. "Unless... Forge? If I hit that thing over there it'll have the same effect, with less explodey to the hostages. What else will happen when I destroy it?"

"Biometric feedback array," Forge intoned, focusing on the device Jennie indicated. "Think of it like... a fuel pump, and our folks are the gas tank. Cut it out and we can get them down safely. Leave the locks to me." He reached into one of the many pockets of his uniform, withdrawing a leather band bristling with various tools and picks and strapping it around his forearm. Nodding to Kurt, he moved next to the senior X-Man. "Ready when you are."

"Then we go," Kurt said, reaching to grasp Forge's arm and teleporting them out to the tables immediately.

"We have a problem." Christian said softly, staring through the scope.

"What's that?"

"An old friend." Garrison followed his father's pointed finger, and groaned.

"Armor. Sword. Bad rapper dreads. I'm guessing the Black Knight?" The Canadian got a nod in return. "Well, fuck me." The man was cutting across the grounds, heading straight for the machine. He wasn't gathering the guards with him, which was a good thing, but it would only be moments before spotting Kurt and Forge amongst the tables. The explosion might shock or distract the guards, but the Black Knight was approaching from the opposite direction, and all it would do is bring them into view quicker. "Right, if I get killed, do me a favour and drop something heavy on him, eh."

Garrison vaulted the boxes and sped forward, using his speed to put the bulk of the machine between him and the guards. According to their briefing, the Black Knight possessed super physical abilities, like himself, and a giant sword. Hopefully he could hold him off and keep him busy long enough for the others to get clear of the tables. Kane accelerated, and with an impact like a speeding car, smashed shoulder first into the Black Knight, sending them both sprawling.

The impact came out of nowhere, fierce and sudden. Sir Percy was flying through the air before his brain had caught up to the situation. Mentally he scolded his host for all those drugs the kid had done. Clearly it was slowing down the functioning of what was effectively their brain. "Has no one informed you people of the rules of engagement?" His voice came annoyed, agitated and in a perfect, archaic British upper class. It likely looked ridiculous coming out of the boy's mouth but it sounded natural. Sir Percy pushed the body off of himself and rolled off to the side. With a glare at the man Sir Percy got to his feet and drew his sword. "Now then, lad. Care another attempt?" His lips curled up into a smile that held no mercy but a great deal of joy.

Out of the way, and hopefully unnoticed by the new comer, Jennie approached the device that drew the power from her friends and teammates, and converted it to power that drove the Thermal Gigantinator. She carefully laid a hand on it, and momentarily wished she had the power to understand how things worked like Forge, all that she knew knew was that breaking it would equal her friends' freedom, anything else was beyond her grasp. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, ignoring the sounds of fighting behind her, her fist glowing red before sending the energy into the machine in front of her. A chain reaction was heralded by a series of pings and then a loud jackhammering sound, not unlike a piston coming loose in an engine. Within seconds the machine cut off abruptly, sending sparks shooting in the air. Jennie backed away from it, and then turned to look at the table. Kurt, Forge and the others seemed unharmed, so whatever it was worked. Mentally she breathed a sigh of relief. Then shrieked as something grabbed the back of her uniform.

The challenger had been adequately distracting until the sounds of the machine behind him going wrong hit his ears. Sir Percy side-stepped an advance of his sparing partner and hit the man's lower spine hard with the pommel of his sword. Hoping that was enough to distract for a moment Sir Percy went to the impertinent little girl who was trying, and unfortunately succeeding, to tamper with Zemo's creation. He yanked her backward, away from the device and flung her with a hissing growl in his throat. Did these women never learn? Someone really had to teach them their rightful place in the world. Trying to fight men clearly wasn't it. They all failed so very thoroughly. His steps were quick, closing the distance he'd put between them before grabbing her and lifting her up from the front of her uniform. His sword made a sweeping arc in the air as he shifted it in his grip. Making a hard fist around the hilt he punched her squarely in the jaw without any consideration for how fragile her bones may have been under his strength. They were starting to annoy him, these little insect people.

Jennie's head rocked back, and the world went gray and white. A small part of her wondered why she always wound up facing invulnerable super strong men when she was very clearly the distance fighter. Then the other part of her whispered it was because the universe hated her. She twisted in his grip, he had to have a weakness, just had to...

Great. Now Jennie was about to get skewered like a kebab. Garrison grabbed one of the forklifts, hefted it easily and spun it like a hammer throw. He released it aimed low, just whizzing off the ground, and it slammed into the back of the Black Knight's legs and lower back, sending Jennie flying off in one direction, and him in another. He ducked as a spate of machine gun fire was directed his way and risked a look. Now the guards were well aware of what was happening. Two were lifted in the air as a fuel drum between them exploded, and Christian Kane ducked back around a crate with his pistol.

He was on a mission in a hidden Doom Fortress at the bottom of a dormant volcano, being backed up by his father. Life was getting just a bit too surreal. He shoved his shoulder into a large cargo box and drove it directly at the Black Knight, only to jump aside by inches as he hacked it to pieces with the ebony blade in his hands. If he survived this, Garrison promised himself that he'd set the next Renn Faire he saw on fire.

Is this the best they can do? The blade went through the obstacle like warm butter and a mirthless laugh came from Sir Percy as it did. The sharp pain in his legs was quickly muting as Sir Percy's concentration focused in on his little parasite of a friend. He growled, yanked a nearby crate bigger than he was tall and flung it the man. The Black Knight was not a distance fighter but a quick glance to their "guests" told him they weren't exactly going to be doing a waltz at any point in the near future. The risk factor was low so he followed the trajectory and advanced on the man again, after all he seemed to be the strongest fighter there. It took him away from what he was protecting but Sir Percy had every confidence nothing would slip past his perception long enough to make a different for his challengers.

Meanwhile, over atop the Thermal Gigantinator, Forge coughed to clear the smell of brimstone from his sinuses. "I hate teleporting," he mumbled as he looked down to his friends strapped to the tables. With Kurt watching his back, he scampered down the treelike structure, hooking his ankles around a thick cable and dangling upside-down above the flaming Angel and tried not to be distracted by the melee below. "Okay, single-cylinder lock, remote magnetic pulse access... oh, come on," he grumbled out loud. "Baron McEvil von Badguy can build a moon-destroying superthermal induction laser out of vacuum tubes and transistors, and he still uses restraints that a rookie could pick?"

He stopped suddenly as sparks began to fly off of his prosthetic hand. "Oh, right," he said. "Microwaves." Patting his pockets, he made a noise of realization and unzipped a pocket, withdrawing a folded metallic blanket. "EM-dampening Mylar," he called down to Angel, unsure if she could hear. "I have to cover you so I can get you loose." Without further ceremony, he unfurled the fabric and draped it over the corona of blue flame surrounding the young redhead. A few passes with a degaussing magnet, and the bonds holding her snapped open.

There was very little thinking going on when the bonds were suddenly opened. All Angel knew was that there was a sucking feeling before, disorienting and power, so much power. Blackness draped over her only added to her confusion and fright; Angel's hands sluggishly moved to grab the thing that had been thrown over her and she clenched in convulsions.

Whatever it had been was suddenly no longer there - ash and particulars floated around her as she stared up at her hands and arms. Completely coated with blue flame - not simply the blue fire shield that had coated her before, the slender flicker of fire that was always present when her powers were on. Swirls of blue flame danced where skin should have been and in shock, Angel let out a ragged scream as she rolled off the table, feeling things turn to slag even before she landed.

There was something over him -- and the sudden darkness was the only thing that confirmed his eyes had been open. He certainly hadn't been seeing anything. The next shock came shortly afterwards, when the spots of pressure at various points around his body suddenly disappeared one by one. He'd ceased even to be aware that he had needed the support, and so it was something of a surprise to Marius when he pitched forward into someone's arms.

The blur in front of Marius's face resolved into Forge's grinning mug as his former suitemate grunted under the larger Australian's weight. "Oof. Dude, you have got to cut down on the snacks. Can you walk? Because seriously, Nightcrawler and I are like, the skinniest X-Men here, man. If we've got to carry all of you..." He glanced over to where Kurt had John slung over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Take care of Angel," he ordered. "Let me get Shiro and Jubilee free and we're out of here."

Lucky for Forge that Shiro was short and lean, so when he collapsed against Forge, they didn't topple over. Shiro's eyes fluttered open revealing a big red blob. He groaned and slowly lifted his head, only to see another bunch of smaller red blobs. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a slightly louder groan.

"Shiro? Shiro? Sunfire!" Forge barked. "Don't burn out on me now. Come on, I need your help here, we've got to get Jubilee down, she's not looking too good."

'Not too good' was an understatement - where Shiro and Angel seemed to be exhausted and overpowered respectively, Jubilee's skin looked waxen and tight, and her breathing was shallow. Forge swore under his breath, not bothering to mess with the lock, simply wedging his metal hand under the restraints holding Jubilee to the table and wrenching them loose with the staccato sound of popped rivets. "Hell's bells," he swore, "she's practically in shock. Her powers run off her metabolism, using her as a battery could kill her. We've got to get out of here."

"Battery -- sodding battery. . ." Marius stumbled as the blanket slipped from his shoulders, barely registering the writhing figure of blue flame that was Angel. Parts were coming back to him. That woman -- he could see her face now. The same face from Moscow. And he could remember that moment before they had walked into the machine, and the knife used to nick the others and pressed into his skin. And then he had been tied up and used--

Marius screamed, and across the Australian's skin four different mutations began to churn.

"Crap crap crap!" Forge shouted, holding up Jubilee with one arm. "Shiro! Knock some sense into him!"

Whatever words were being directed at him, Shiro couldn't make out. What did bring back some coherence to his addled mind, though, was the sudden flare of red as Marius' copied powers sprang forth. "Laverne," he rasped, reaching out a hand to grasp the boy's shoulder, unheeding of the fire. "Yamete. Abunai yo."

Someone was touching him. Still disoriented, Marius followed the first available instinct for someone only recently liberated from restraints: he spun around and tried to take a swing -- with a fist trailing flame like a comet.

Shiro felt drained and heavy, like he'd been awoken from a deep sleep, but there was a distinctive change in the red blob, and his hand went up instinctively to deflect the wild punch. He tried to throw off the veil of exhaustion, but his words still came out slurred. "Stop," he said, "Not Amora."

Still holding Jubilee up with one arm, Forge shoved Shiro to the side. "Stand back," he insisted. "I'm going to try something rational and scientific."

Which, of course, meant balling up his fist and punching Marius square in the face.

Slapping the hysterical didn't always work. Remarkably, some people did not have a favorable reaction to the addition of violence to an already tense situation. Fortunately Marius, as a person who had spent a great deal of time involved with rugby and thus to whom physical violence was a generally accepted means of attracting attention, was not one of these people.

The Australian reeled, his corona of flame vanishing into nothingness. A metal fist could attract a lot of attention. Marius' hand flew to his nose, sense already seeping into his eyes. He blinked rapidly, then looked up.

"Oh," he croaked, "Forge."

"I do not think that counts as science," said Shiro. He rubbed his eyes like a sleepy child waking from a nap, but found everything still just red blobs in infrared when he opened them again. With Marius calmed, he turned his attention to the other blindingly bright source of heat. "Angel . . ."

Across from them, Angel whimpered at the sound of her name. “I can’t…can’t turn it off,” she said in a panic, holding her hands out in front of her. There was not an inch of her that wasn’t covered in rolling flame and it sparked even brighter in response to her emotions. The floor around her was sinking slowly as the heat ate through it and she struggled backward, hitting the thing that she’d been confined to until just a little while ago. That, too, started to melt, causing Angel to go even further into a panic.

“Oh god, oh god, what if I’m stuck – I’m not supposed to do this.” A surge of panicked energy had her shoving up off from the table – when she regained her feet, she stared at the twisted wreck of the table. “I didn’t hit it that…what the fuck?” she yelped, as mini fires suddenly erupted around her.

The little blazes suddenly happening provided further footholds in reality. Shaking himself, Marius reached his hand towards her. "Oi, here, calm down . . ." The floor under her feet was starting to bubble.

She was crying, a little, though it was hard to tell since the flames obscured a good portion of her face, leaving behind a wavering mask. “I’m trying,” she whispered but it really obviously wasn’t working. Angel hesitated, eyeing his hand, but even in her state she knew that no matter how powerful she got, Marius wasn’t going to get hurt. Nature of the powers. The only one that would…she shot Forge a panicky look and swallowed before reaching out for Marius’ hand.

His hand twitched under hers; still the natural instinct. He concentrated on keeping it flat for her, because even Marius could see how scared she was. An idea began to present itself in fragments. Borrowed power. He'd been given some from every mutant . . . including John.

Connections sputtered into existence. Too exhausted to even put words to the theory, Marius drew up the flickering blue glow that was the most basic expression of Angel's power. Little snaps of plasma crackling across as the powers he'd stacked bled into one another. He let the power ramp up -- and closed his eyes.

Angel stared. From the other side it was – well, pretty. Two issues had forced her into a complete state of fright. One had been waking up in that condition, not knowing how she’d done it and the other was not having any clue as to how to undo it. Top it all off with the knowledge that some machine had been using her as a battery after being kidnapped and something had snapped. But watching Marius call up her power was fascinating and it made her forget, a little, of her fear.

Her eyes widened as the fires around Marius suddenly started to burn down, slowly and gently, until they were simply either not there or just reminiscent of her original fire shield. He was turning it off and she supposed if he could do that, then she should be able to, right? Swallowing hard, she curled her fingers around his and concentrated. She’d once joked about her powers feeling like a dragon in her belly but she focused on that mental image, grabbed onto it. She thought about it going back to sleep, curling up and cooling down. Down, down, down…
When she finally felt firm fingers under her grasp, Angel’s eyes popped open and she sagged. Normal skin, normal expressions, no fire.
No pants, either, though; her shirt was in tatters but her pants were scorched to the point of ash.

Forge blinked as Angel's fire died down, leaving the young girl in -good lord, are those Supergirl underwear? Mind on the mission! Pay attention! Awkwardly, he shrugged his uniform jacket off and tossed it to Angel. Averting his eyes, he looked over to Marius and Shiro, then checked on the half-conscious Jubilee. "Can everyone move?" he asked, glancing over to where Garrison, Christian, and Jennie were occupied with the Black Knight. "Because I get the feeling this is going to get pretty intense really fast."

Hastily, Angel wrapped Forge's jacket around her - which proved harder than advertised with the one missing sleeve - and took a wobbly, jell-o feeling step. She glanced over at the fight and muttered under her breath and not making much sense, "It's all the same...something something dark side..."

Shiro nodded. "Something something something complete. Now I know how Alex feels." Which was the least comforting thought he could have had at the time. He shivered.

Marius staggered to something like attention and half-collapsed onto Angel, who was trying to collapse in the opposite direction. The ensuing arrangement was, at least, structurally sound. Beyond Kurt collecting John as best he could, Marius could see some bloke waving a sword around. He thought of contributing a pithy remark to the situation, then settled for summing up the feelings of the group at large.

"Sod it. Let's go."

Back on the ground, Jennie looked up blearily from where she'd been thrown. Garrison was going toe-to-toe with the Black Knight, and she glared at him momentarily. She and he were going to have a long talk about that forklift later. She winced and touched a hand to her mouth, she was bleeding, but a quick check told her no teeth had been knocked loose. Luckily for her. She stayed on the ground, trying to get her bearings, watching the fight. If her situation with Nimrod last fall had taught her anything, was that no matter how strong or powerful your enemy, they all had a weakness. Achilles had his heel, Nimrod had his brain, and this guy had to have something, if she could just see...

She squinted, pushing the lines, pushing past what she normally saw. There was a way if she just threw enough power at it... Her eyes widened and her vision went white.

Kane had gone to his baton, only to have it sheared in half by the sword. The Black Knight wasn't quite as fast as him, but he was stronger, and had the advantage of four feet of extra reach thanks to the blade. It was all Kane could do to keep in front of it, landing the occasional punch, but mostly trying to keep from being spitted. A quick reverse slashed his uniform open across his chest, scoring the muscles there, and the backhand reverse caught his shoulder, piercing it cleanly. Garrison kicked out as he stumbled, cracking the Black Knight's knee and forcing him to stagger instead of executing the follow-up slash that would have cut the Canadian in two.

Just as the other man regained his balance, and raised his sword, a shot rang out, and sparks flew from the glove of his sword hand. The black sword was knocked free, skidding towards the machine. From his crate, Christian lowered his pistol for a moment, and turned is attention back to the guards. Garrison leapt for the sword at the same time as the Black Knight, and both men grappled, trying to keep it from the other. Unfortunately, with the superior strength of the other man, it was rapidly turning into a losing battle as his fingers crept closer to the blade.

A possessive snarl was directed at the man attempting to steal his sword. His prized possession. His only possession and the source of his power. Physical proximity wasn't needed, the Knight would not be powerless without it, tied to as his soul was. That didn't mean he wanted to see the hands of an unworthy wrapped around it. Sir Percy would not lose his sword to this man, of all people. His hands yanked, his foot kicked out and he continued to wrestle his adversary for the weapon until he finally managed to forcibly pull it from his opponent's grasp after a well placed kick to the man's abdomen. Patience was running low. In a flash Sir Percy was on his feet with the tip of his sword at the man's throat. The sword wavered slightly as Sir Percy's mind went fuzzy, like white noise interference. That had never happened before.

The answer was right there, but instead of telling her to toss the energy, Jennie instinctively held it to her. Her ears began to ring, and without realizing what she was doing, she got to her feet. Something was off. Some sort of ...conflict? Tangles of red and white swirled around the man, and Jennie latched onto one, throwing caution to the wind.

"Power, you always wanted the power, didn't you?" Jennie said, her voice ringing out across the chamber amid the shouts and the gunfire. She circled the Black Knight slowly, almost lazily. "But you're just a tool, a pawn, it's not your power, is it?" she smiled, teeth stained with her own blood. Her target stood, frozen in his tracks as Jennie got closer. "Go ahead," she said softly, almost as a whisper, "you'll hold the power if you do it. No one else but you."

It took Sir Percy a moment to realise what she was doing. She knows, he thought, but there was no way for her to. It wasn't him that she was talking to. It was Michel. And he was buying it! The Black Knight argued with his host in their mind, but it wasn't getting him anywhere. They welcomed the Knight into their bodies for precisely the reasons the girl had stated. They wanted power and Sir Percy of Scandia, the Black Knight, could offer them precisely that if they just did one little thing. It wasn't much, sort of like having a roommate. They just had to let them in. Now Michel's certainty was wavering. He believed her and he decided that was it. No more. This body was a one soul occupation. Unable to stay where he wasn't wanted, Sir Percy was forced out of the body. With nowhere else to go he went back to the sword where he was trapped until someone else allowed him possession. And because of a mere girl. Without the Black Knight inside of his body, however, Michel was just a twenty-three year old kid. Just a kid without any power. Without strength. Completely vulnerable to his attackers. Stupid.

There was a creaking above, and Michel had only a moment to look up as a massive cargo cannister plummeted straight down and crushed him underneath with a thunderous noise. The culprit was a large cargo crane, which Christian had made his way into the cab and waited for both Garrison and Jennie to get clear before releasing the catch. The thunderous sound of the impact slowly melted away, replaced with the creak of leather and the drip-drop of blood as it ran down and oozed off of Kane's slashed uniform. Slowly, the rescued mutants were helped down from the top of the machine, as they regrouped on the floor of the giant area.

Before anyone could speak or even react, a high whining sound filled the air. The machine that loomed above them was suddenly suffused with purple energy, and half of it simply melted in a near miss. Following the blast back showed a man in a black Nazi-styled uniform lowering a large hand cannon. At the collar, the rest of the head was hidden in a purple cloth bag topped with a strange golden crown. His men swarmed around him, and his crazed rantings began to filter down to the rest of them.

"Son, you'd better get your people out of here." Christian said.

The ground was shivering, trembling underneath him. How remarkably apropos, Zemo though fleetingly, his mind surprisingly calm -as if he was outside himself, watching as his body worked the Atomizer, as it gave orders to his men. They scurried like ants, eager to do his bidding, myopic and small, so limited despite the purity of their blood.

The universe was shaking all around him, welcoming him, waiting for him to complete the puzzle, to finish the mosaic.

He chuckled softly as he felt the volcano deep beneath them begin to wake from it century-long slumber.

Soon. So very soon.

It would all still come together. He could feel the Time gathering itself, vibrating with impatience, the History preparing itself for its next Nexus. Destroy the interlopers, re-rig the batteries...

Fate itself was watching over him, the Norns smiling down on his thread. They had even given him Kane. He was Zemo and he would triumph!

Soon...

The barrel of the gun aligned with Christian and spat fire and damnation.

The baron's laughter echoed through the mountain.

The fire scattered them, Christian Kane being thrown out of the path of the blast by his son's superhuman reflexes. There was no cover, and a plethora of men bearing down on them.

Faster than most of the guards could blink, Jennie swung her arm overhand like a baseball pitch, the tiny ball of red light smacking into what remained of the Thermal Gigantinator, causing it to explode totally. The heat was intense, and knocked several of the guards off their feet. Jennie silently prayed that no one she cared about got hurt in the blast, even as she pulled herself to her feet.

"Run, God damn it, run!" she yelled.

Forge grunted and half-carried, half-dragged Jubilee along, followed by Kurt toting John, and the other three would-be batteries following behind. "I swear to God that if I go through all this and get shot by a Nazi with a bag on his head, I am bringing the curse of Science down on you all from beyond the grave..."

Meanwhile, Garrison finished the job Jennie had started with the guards, slinging three steel drums, one after the other, at them and forcing them to retreat. Zemo was still firing with his bizarre energy weapon, but seemed to only have eyes for Christian, firing away with abandon. By now, the floor was regularly rocked by explosions, and chucks of rock was starting to fall from the ceiling as either explosions buffeted them, or Zemo’s mad aim scythed away support beams.

“Dad, get out of here!”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“I’m a goddamn superhero, you old—gah! Run.” Kane made a long looping turn as he bore down on Zemo, keeping a close eye on the weapon. A blast forced him off to his right, and then another back to find a new approach. He could get this guy, get the damn gun off of him and drag him off to the Hague by that fucking bag over his face.

“Garrison,” Christian appeared by where his son was gathering himself up for another charge. “Your people are getting out. You belong with them.”

“I can get him.”

“It doesn’t matter. Get your people out, keep them safe. That’s what said you believe in, wasn’t it?” Kane said almost kindly. Garrison paused, still watching Zemo as he struggled with his weapon, and finally nodded.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be with you. I’m getting too old to save the world.”

“And Zemo?”

“Oh, that one is easy.” Christian suddenly stepped away from their cover, walked several steps and paused, turning to face the German. “Zemo, you syphilitic Kraut! You want me, here I am. I can’t be too hard to hit. After all, the Enchantress did. Twice.”

The taunt brought an inarticulate howl of rage from the Baron, and he raised the weapon and fired. Christian only barely avoided the purple beam, but as he ducked, Garrison watched it strike the massive steel pillar that Kane had positioned himself in front of. Zemo’s weapon sheared right through it, and Garrison could see the rock in the ceiling actually start to buckle.

The Canadian was moving, scooping his father up on one shoulder and using his mutant speed to rapidly draw away from Zemo. Huge chunks of rock began to fall, and Garrison risked one look back to see Zemo standing there, fist clenched and raised as he screamed defiance at the world, before being lost under a torrent of rubble and rocks.

Kane barely made the start of the lava tunnel without getting crushed, and followed the rest up and out of the side of the volcano. They fled down the slopes as the top of the volcano belched a cloud of gas and smoke. The men LeBeau had arranged were waiting at the bottom, gesturing for them to board large military style trucks, and soon they were fleeing towards the airfield, watching as lines of lava made twisting trails down the slopes of the formerly dormant Mt. Schron. Lava that would destroy any traces of Zemo’s machines, and hopefully the man himself.

Or would it? That was a thought that even after boarding the planes and leaving Symkaria far behind would simply not go away.