X-Men: Twisted Beauty pt4 'Petal and Thorn'
,Previously In:X-Men: Twisted Beauty-Gifted a small sample of flesh from the King of the Monsters, Godzilla, Professor Henry McCoy, a.k.a. Beast of the X-Men has inadvertently given life to a chimera of monster, plant, and woman. Before anyone can understand what’s going on, an emergent consciousness of fractured genesis arises in Westchester, possessing not only the fury of a kaiju, but an unrefined psychic capacity, and a personal attachment to the X-Men.-An extremist group of Islamic supremacists known as ‘The Purifiers’ have exploited the devastation in the wake of the Kaiju invasion to strike against the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Led by a man known as Al-Rahim, the Mudaris plots the next step in their plans to cleans the world of mutants.After narrowly surviving a suicide bomber, Cyclops, Wolverine, and Psylocke are fighting their way through terror cells to locate the master of the Purifiers.-While Professor X is still deciphering the terrible images imprinted into Jean Grey from her contact with Godzilla, the school has come under assault by a Purifier death-squad. Armed with technology that cloaks them from telepathic powers, they shoot nightcrawler before advancing on the mansion itself. But despite careful planning, there is one entity they are not prepared to confront. Biollante.Featured X-Men:Professor XBeastJean GreyIcemanNightcrawlerKitty PrydeDani MoonstarWolverineCyclopsPsylockeOther:Grant Ward- Agent of SHIELDAl-Rahim (Mudaris)- Leader of the PurifiersBiollante- ?Below the X-Mansion Normally the subterranean structure was the most secure. Reenforced with steel and concrete; the Danger-Room, the Blackbird hanger, medical and scientific labs, and particularly Cerebro were well-shielded from intrusion or damage. But as even the mighty walls of Constantinople were eventually brought down, it would be a power from below that breached the defenses of the X-Men.The elevator doors opened, Xavier, having dispatched the junior X-Men to safeguard the evacuation of the students, raced to get down to Cerebro when the arrival of Biollante struck him like lightning. He altered course. Accustomed as they were to people and beings inhuman and bizarre, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, and Beast stood with faces drawn in shock to see the creature that emerged from the earth. An accident of fate, of chimeric heritage, a thing they called Biollante stood before them. What they once knew as a plant, now took the shape… of a woman. The tallest of any there, her body was a feminine aesthetic but not human composition, not wholly. Her skin shone as shades of green, depending on the body part, darker on the back, lighter to the front. The texture of which, where darker, was coarse and bark-like, traversing to smoother and more human where it lightened. Symmetrical rows of tiny, red-tipped thorns populated along the limbs, hips, and sides of the neck. She seemed to possess the arms and legs of a woman, replete with joints and digits, but featured a more powerful build of long sinewy muscles. Predatorial claws curled inwards from fingers and toes. A winding appendage ran from the approximal tailbone down into the earth, her connection to the network of vines underpinning the property. A collection of green fans grew from between her shoulders and down her back, accented silver at the extremities. She was, of course, as nude as a newborn, and as far as Henry McCoy could discern, she was similarly endowed as female with the requisite anatomical features, though they too bore the mark of her unique genetics. He looked to her face and held a gasp to see what one might consider a striking resemblance to Jean Grey in the general outline. Disturbing this likeness however, were pairs of external teeth protruded forward on the sides of her mouth, and her eyes held no white, but dark orbs illuminated by irises of burning orange around a pupil. And where a long hair might cascade down, a curtain of vines bearing red-petaled blossoms draped.She was both terrible and beautiful to behold.[As best I could do with Bing-ai image creator], Charles and Jean traded incredulous glances. “It’s evolved!” The Professor marveled. For a few seconds Biollante held her attention on Beast, then let it fall onto the still unconscious Nightcrawler slumped in his arms. By exertion of will, the umbilical vine moved her closer, reaching out with upturned hands. “Kurr-t.” The name she spoke in two syllables: the first a stressed purr, the second a sharp snap of the tongue. Jean moved to intercept the newcomer, but Charles took her by the arm to hold her back, “Wait… I don’t believe it means him any harm.” The suggestion gave Grey pause, and she bent her own mind to gleaming the intent of the she-creature. Sadness. She felt. Sorrow. Beast didn’t want to startle Biollante with any sudden movements, but if Kurt wasn’t in surgery very quickly, he could die in his arms. “Please,” He began, speaking softly. “I have to get him to the medical lab.” Biollante laid a hand on Nightcrawlers chest, respiration almost imperceptible. “Help… Kurt.” Veins of luminescent veridian pulsed down her arm, the energy flowing into her fingers, and dissipating into Kurt’s blue flesh. There was a sudden convulsion through his body.Xavier swallowed, “Henry, get him to the lab, let us deal with… this.” Slowly Beast circled ‘round, he and Biollante meeting each-others gaze before he broke away and hurried off. Charles spoke to divert her attention, “Can you understand me?” Biollante turned to him with a snap, eyes wide. Setting her feet on the floor, her posture settled into a crouch with a cautious balance. “You can, can’t you?” Xavier pressed. She took a step forward, eyes searching in thought. “Pro… fess…sor…” The she-creature extended an arm, and a vine swung over from behind her to curl around the back of Xavier’s chair. She opened her arms to receive him as the vine drew him closer. “Charles!” Jean exerted her telekinesis to pull him back. The moment she called out however, Biollante turned on her, this time with a face scowled in anger. A savage mouth opened wide to unleash a wild howl of rage, exposing a maw filled with fangs, a tongue covered in barbs. Another vine came writhing to the fore, three-inch thorns pushing their way out along its length. It lashed out like a whip for Jean, slapping against a telekinetic barrier. “Don’t provoke it, Jean!” Xavier moved himself closer to Biollante, moving close enough to reach it. “It thinks you’re a rival!” “What?!” When he was within reach, Professor X grabbed hold of Biollante’s arm, physically drawing it back to him despite the thorns pricking his hand. “It’s okay!” The eyes of the she-creature came to him, and the ireful visage faltered into sudden shock. “You know us.” He reached the other hand towards her face. “We’re not going to harm you.” The thorned vine recoiled from Jean. Biollante bent down, allowing him to touch his fingers to the side of her head. And she did likewise, gently taking half of his face in a clawed hand. There, Xavier delved into her mind. Elsewhere, in the mansion “C’mon, c’mon!” Kitty ushered the younger students into the secret passage behind the wall panel. Dani was guiding others one-by-one from the frightened assembly towards the escape, giving whispered assurances that they would be okay. Bobby stood post on the other side of the huddled group in Professor Xavier’s personal classroom, peeking out from the half-closed door to check the hallway. The rime-covered fingers of his right hand wafted a chill mist. The sounds of men’s screams hadn’t been heard in a minute, and nobody was sure if that was a good or bad thing. Bobby glanced over his shoulder to make sure things were moving along, unsure how long it would be until they- Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, wide at first but narrowing as the source approached. Drake swiftly but carefully shut the door. “They’re coming!” He warned, firm but without shouting. Starting at the upper corner, he sent a ray of ice all along the seam of the door, giving the intruders at least one more obstacle between them and the students. Dani stood straight, getting a mental count of how many were still waiting to move into the passageway. “Almost done.” Moving down the hall, three Purifiers made quick scans of the side doors as they passed, stopping momentarily at each to place a puck-shaped device against it. One paused to the side of the door, listening, the other two stood at angles, weapons pointed high-ready. They proceeded from one door to another in this fashion until they came to one with slivers of frost creeping out from the seam. Fingers tightened around triggers. The inside of the room erupted in a blast of noise and fury, fragments of wood cast at shrapnel speed. Before a second had passed, a hail of bullets ripped into the furniture and walls. The first two men swept into the room, searching for targets. But finding none.The intangible face of Kitty Pryde phased though the panel of the secret door just long enough to assess her hunters. “There must be a secret escape.” One of the men cursed to his comrades in their shared tongue. “Search everywhere!” She pulled back into the space, lit by small red LED lights along one side of the floor that ran the length of the space. She and Bobby were crouched under the low ceiling, Dani already away leading the younger students to a redoubt. “We need to move,” She whispered, phasing through him. “Put up a wall every ten feet, just in case they find this tunnel.” As quietly as Drake could manage, he conjured a foot-thick barrier of ice to block the passage. In the room, one of the Purifiers produced a handheld device with an illuminated screen and held it up to view through as he panned around from the center. The others tossed furniture and tore apart the fixtures. On the screen was a thermoscopic interpretation of what span the device was pointed at. He stopped when he moved over a particular section of wall. The mind of Biollante was like nothing Charles Xavier had seen before. A collision of psyches cloned from a woman and a kaiju, there were elements of cohesion that he could navigate in what could be described as a pandemonium of cyclopean mind-shapes adrift in a cosmic sea of infinite perception. Whatever degree the psyche of the rose (the subject of plant consciousness a fascinating one for Xavier) impelled influence in this space was indeterminable. Bombarded in every direction by sounds and images, some more defined than others, he pushed into the mental firmament. Familiar voices of himself, of McCoy, of Scott echoed and reverberated, accompanied by waves of comforting and positive emotions. Images of faces played across constantly evolving crystalline things. Clear, discernable memories. It was then he realized that moving through the intra-spatial distance was not unlike swimming deep under water. The native environment of the Godzilla being the medium, the cohesive fluid of Biollante’s mind. Down below where the water darkened into opacity, he saw the shapes of other memories, more primitive, less defined. From there radiated stronger feelings and baser thoughts. The dichotomy was clear to him; the more sapient mind of a human was underlaid by the depth of the ancient kaiju. In this stratification, a mind melded in defiance of nature was able to create order. A forlorn cry let him know he wasn’t alone. Gliding through the murk, Biollante moved in the crocodilian way; powered by a muscular tail, her eyes glowing embers in the shadow. He stayed where he was and allowed her to circle around him. She appeared much the same way as she did physically, a sign of stable self-perception. Biollante swooped upon Charles from behind, enveloping him in her arms and hugging tightly, nestling her chin on his shoulder. It was an embrace he’d shared with a young and frightened Jean Grey, the hug of someone seeking comfort, to feel safe. “Pro-fess-or…” The voice was timid despite the fearsome appearance, like someone learning to speak again. I know you’re confused…” He placed a hand over hers as they clasped around his chest. “But I will help you, there’s no need to be frightened.” “Bad men…” These words came with a tightening of the grip, Charles feeling the pressure on his mind increase. “Yes, Biollante, there are bad men, but-“ A deep, tremendous quake shook the world, pillars of bubbles rising from somewhere below, the memory artifacts convulsing in a new turbulence. A sonorous bellow.“I kill bad men.”A Motel Room at Night At once, Logan, Scott, and Braddock snaped awake in the darkness, Logan the odd-man-out sleeping in the chair. Slowly the adamantium claws retreated into Wolverine’s flesh as they remembered the relative safety of their situation. Both men were tensed, as if reacting to the snap of a twig in the forest. Psylocke glanced between them, brushing aside a long bang of dark hair. “Either of you gentlemen care to tell me what that was all about?” Logan unclenched his fist, snarling at nothing, “Felt like a… rush, like, something was about to happen.” “Something bad,” Cyclops added, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “To someone we care about.” “It was strong enough in your minds it woke me up! A distinctly feminine psyche, but…” Her face clenched in confusion. “Something else.” Scott and Logan locked eyes for a few seconds. Reaching for the bedside phone, (their cell phones having been destroyed in the explosion) Scott began dialing the secure line to the mansion. It continued to ring. “I don’t like it.” Wolverine snapped, lunging out of his chair. “Somethin’ ain’t right.”Betsy moved to intercept him, catching hold of his arm. “Let’s not go chasing after every new scent on the wind, Logan. We have our own task to see to.” He scowled at the thought but didn’t offer an objection. She continued, “If you don’t trust the other X-Men to take care of themselves, then I wonder just what you lot are doing all that training for.” “She’s right.” Cyclops put the phone down. “I don’t like it either, but we can’t afford to put-off from the primary target.” Logan yanked his arm away from Braddock, seething at his own inaction.“If Jean, or the Professor, or Beast needed us to come back in, they’d let us know.” Scott said as much to himself as the others. “They’d find a way.” “So what the hell do we do now?” Moving back to the chair, Wolverine snatched-up the bottle of liquor and took an aggressive swig. “We can’t wait for another bomb to go off in another mutant center.” “No, we can’t.” Psylocke put her hands on her hips. “We need to locate the Purifiers leader and put an end to this. “If going about things the quiet way is too slow, then I say we try something more direct. Bring them out of hiding.” “Like what?” Scott asked.Betsy sat opposite on her bed, running a lip over her teeth. “I’m working on it.”X-Mansion Kurt Wagner had begun to groan by the time Henry McCoy laid him into the medical bed, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. But that didn’t elicit any moment’s grace for Beast as he got to work. “A relatively straightforward procedure, Henry.” He said aloud as he activated a series of computer functions designed to assist him. Slipping a protective hood over his head with a see-through portion, he attached a breathing mask over Kurt’s mouth and set the air tanks to flow. “I must not fear, fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.” He plunged both hands elbow-deep into both ports of a device that laid sterile coverings onto his arms, the finger-tips modified to accommodate for his claws. With a concurrent button press on an adjacent draw-cabinet with a toe, a tray of surgical tools were ejected on a track, which he took up. “Computer, assist mode.” A rig of complex devices and tools lowered from a ceiling compartment, a rectanglular grid of green light squares appeared over Kurt’s torso.“Ready to assist.” The computer informed. Despite the imperative of time, this had to be a methodical process. “Remove clothing from patient’s torso.” He commanded, and in response a trio of implements worked in prefect tandem to parse the clothing and expose Kurt’s chest. Beast was surprised to see the entry wound frothing with a green mucus. “Computer, scan entry wound for bullet trajectory.” “Scanning…” An import from Tony Stark, the apparatus created a holographic projection to Beast’s right of the section in question. In real-time simulation, he watched the path of the bullet’s destruction steadily being mended along the entry route, the flesh collapsing as it went. “Projectile depth, decreasing.” McCoy remembered the flow of energy from Biollante into Nightcrawler, remembered the regenerative capacity of Godzilla’s DNA.“Computer, prepare radiation procedures.”Outside. “Everybody, stay low.” The dozen younger mutants Moonstar had shepherded through the escape tunnel crowded on the mansion grounds, some hundred meters away from the house. A tall hedge of greenery tactically placed to give anyone exiting the route concealment encircled them all. When Kitty and Bobby finally caught up, they each found a spot where they could peer through and get an eye on things. “Where are you guys?” The junior X-Men heard in their heads, the mental voice of Jean Grey calm. “Is anyone hurt?” “We made it out safe.” Kitty thought back, giving the group a visual once-over. “We got everybody. What about you guys?” “Beast got Kurt down to the medical room. The professor and I are… dealing with something else.” They exchanged curious glances. Below the mansion, Jean Grey, satisfied for the moment with the safety of the younger students, turned back to where Professor Xavier and the Biollante-creature were still engaged in their mental congress. She wondered if she should consider this thing a sister? Twin? Clone? It was in a sense some kind of relation. It would also explain the attachments it displayed for Xavier, Beast, and Scott. But there was also the other part of Biollante. For the brief time she was able to touch the mind of Godzilla, its psyche was astonishingly uncomplicated. Which allowed her to understand the notion that the King of the Monsters was territorial and would suffer no rivals. The ever-present threat of usurpers meant that he would either cow his opponents into submission or destroy them. If Biollante could not be dissuaded from believing Jean presented a challenge or threat, conflict would be unavoidable. But there were more immediate problems. The fact that she couldn’t perceive the minds of any of the attackers led her to wonder how these terrorists were able to shield themselves from telepathic abilities, an indication of their strategic planning and resource prowess. “Computer:” She announced. “Initiate auto-defenses on sub-levels, authorization code: Juliet-Golf-3729.” “Confirmed.” In the mindscape, the shift in the watery environment convinced Charles of urgency.“Nobody needs to die, Biollante, there’s a better way!”Her face twitched as she struggled to grasp new concepts.“Bio…llante… I, am Biollante?”“Yes, that is the name we have given you.”“But… I remember…”“You have memories from those who are a part of you, but you are not them, you are yourself.” The water around them began to darken. Charles fearing this meant they were either descending into the primal psyche, or it was ascending to dominance. A coping mechanism to stress? “Up, Biollante.” He said, gesturing upwards towards the lighter strata. “We need to go up.” “Charles Xavier… is my friend. He will help me.” The advancement of her cognitive language was impressive. “Yes, but you must move towards the light.” Biollante lifted her face upwards, eyes apprehensive. Upstairs, one of the attackers kicked a chair over and cursed in his mother tongue. After prying open the door to the secret tunnel, they’d discovered the way blockaded by solid ice. Pursuing them would simply take too long. “We must find the others!” One of his comrades reminded him with a shove. “The telepaths are more important.” Moving back into the hall, they proceeded to the central foyer. Two held the rifles at high-ready, the third scanned their surroundings with the same hand-held device, adjusting it to penetrate the surface structure for power conduits. They stopped when they came across the body of a fallen brother, his face and portions of his upper torso still smoking from the gout of green acid that had killed him. “Which of the mutants could do this?” “None of the ones we were told about.” “Is there a new one that isn’t accounted for?” Another team, that had moved to the second floor of the mansion kicked in the doors to Professor Xavier’s office. They had a less violent task set to them. One of them crouched in the place where Charles would sit behind the desk, and tapped and prodded until he found a button that summoned a computer screen to unfold from the innards of the furniture. He swung a single-sling pack around in front of him and extracted a rectangular device with a short cable sprouting from one end that terminated in a suction-cup like appendage. “I don’t know how long this will take, hold the door.” He ordered the others, who took post to observe the outer hall. He took the suction cup and stuck it to the dark screen, and nudging a switch on the side, activated the device. Within seconds, the screen illuminated with a window full of commands sequences. The people who had created and sold this equipment to the Purifiers proved their worth yet again. Putting their fear aside, the team moved past the remains of their fallen comrade and converged on the foyer. There, they encountered other members of the assault force peering down from the 2nd floor balcony.“They must be underground!” One called down. But not all of the Purifier soldiers made the assault on the mansion. A contingent remained to prowl the inside perimeter of the property. It was one of these who first spied the swift arrival of a dark SUV on the road the curved around the property wall. He reached to touch the button for his throat-mic, but it was swept aside by an arm that wrapped around his neck. He tried to raise his weapon, but it would never fire before the sharp snap of vertebrae dismissed all notions of further resistance. Agent Grant Ward eased the Purifier soldier to the ground with sufficient care to avoid making too much noise, positioning him into an area of brush cover. He commandeered the firearm and appropriated the headset, revealing a swarthy young man who Grant doubted had lived long enough to amount to much. But he would receive little pity from Agent Ward who quickly assessed how he would proceed. The SHIELD SUV, having served its purpose of distraction, would follow its GPS guidance and park itself at a predetermined spot nearby. Given the lack of massive destruction, it led Grant to think there had not been a pitched battle between the Purifiers and the X-Men, which meant the mutants either subdued them very efficiently, or they evaded the attackers. Paths of possibilities branched out in his strategic mind as to what had occurred and what the current state might be. It was a trait that made him such an effective operator. He noted the noise-dampening attachment on the barrel and inspected the magazine, content that it was full. With expert tact he dug the butt of the weapon into his shoulder-pocket and proceeded into the shadows. Jean Grey had no sooner given her commands to the house computer than Biollante and Xavier broke from their mental bond with shared gasps. Grey tensed her muscles to react to any hostility, but she dared not probe the mind of the creature and risk provoking it. A similar notion passed through Biollante’s mind, and the she-creature snapped her face in the direction of her human progenitor. Her head tilted as bleeding irises appraised Jean. Then she raised and inspected her own hand as if she had never seen it before. “You are Jean Grey, I am…. Not…?” Jean swallowed, “I think you’re confused because of our shared telepathy. You’re imprinted with my genetic and unconscious memory; that’s why you feel such strong connections to the people I love.” A sudden grimace of sadness swept across Biollante’s face as the dim understanding that every beloved attachment she felt belonged to someone else. Charles sensed the upswell of turbulent emotion that was starting to roil in the newly-formed being, “But that doesn’t mean your emotions aren’t real.” To emphasize his point, he took her hand, her bark-like claw larger than both of his combined. “Now you will form your own thoughts and feelings, yours alone.” To whatever degree Xavier’s words took heart in Biollante, they were nonetheless insufficient to hold back the surge of anguish tearing through her body. Carried on this torrent was an impulse to violence. Biollante withdrew her hand from Xavier, curling her arms to her chest as she doubled over to release a tortured scream that began as human but evolved into a vocal cacophony. She formed her claws into fists, and in the same effort as she unfurled her body, the tendrils closed around her in a column and Biollante smashed into the ceiling, driving upwards.Jean reflexively threw a telekinetic barrier around herself and Charles to shield them from the falling rubble. Professor X grabbed into her arm, “We have to calm her! She’ll tear the mansion apart!”In the hall around the corner, the elevator chimed. Purifier agents were still combing the foyer when the floor exploded. Biollante erupted from the underground amidst her spear and mouthed tendrils, the light of the waning moon through windows illuminating her just enough to create a monstrous profile. She rose several feet atop a steadily thickening trunk spiked with silver-tipped leaves. The invaders were caught off guard, none of them recognizing this creature from the mission brief. Bullets came quickly however, a second-floor shooter pouring a rapid barrage into her right side. While the headgear protected the Purifiers from telepathic attacks, Biollante had no such reliance, sensing instinctively every living being around her. The bullets bit into her dermis with superficial penetration, the initial burst eliciting his comrades join their own to the effort. Biollante roared. Vines lashed out in every direction; mouths enduring the damage to snatch men and sink asymmetrical fangs into flesh. A spearhead vine tore through wood and concrete to pierce a man’s thigh, grip around the limb, and fling him like a fishing lure across the space. Eyes burning with rage scanned past a protective upraised arm. Acidic gunk washed over a screeching Purifier from a faceless maw, his hand clenching around the trigger in his dying moments to fire shots until the magazine was empty. Two men rushing down the main stairway lobbed grenades at their enemy. A passing tendril managed to take the explosive brunt of one, severing the limb in a shower of red and green. The other bounced off Biollante’s arm and detonated, destroying most of the arm and charring the whole side of her body. Orange ichor spilled from between her teeth. They were bringing up their weapons to fire when a spear vine came up from below to drag one man under; another vine lasing out to batter the other man against the wall with a cracking sound. One Purifier, braver than the others, gave a running leap from the second-floor knife in hand to grapple onto Biollante and drive the blade into her neck. The tip of the knife scraped against her hardened dermis, allowing her the chance to reach over with her good arm and seize him by the head in a crushing claw. She pulled him in front despite his protests and vomited a sparkling viridian mist over his torso, drenching him in the caustic substance. As she discarded him, another invader applied a door-breeching charge to the trunk of her support. She hardly had the time to comprehend the importance before it detonated, amputating her from her roots and extended limbs. She fell with a piercing wail to the floor, landing on her feet but crumbling to hands and knees.The direct way up was blocked by a column of plant. Xavier put a finger to his temple, “Henry, can you handle Kurt on your own for now?”“For the moment.”A spat of gunfire erupted from elsewhere on the floor, Charles and Jean snapping to the direction.“Intruders engaged.” The computer informed them.“They found the elevator.” Jean concentrated. “But I still can’t detect them.”Charles wheeled his chair over, “They came prepared.” He bit. “But we’ll have to address that matter after we get Biollante under control.”The muffled sounds of chaos and violence from above could be heard in the space between words.“I need to get to Cerebro.” Biollante struggled to stand on shaky legs, the world around her spinning and unsteady. The bleeding stump of her tail quivered as fluids continued to drip from the wound. What remained of her right arm was blackened and hung with shreds of flesh, she couldn’t move it much. A Purifier with a hunk of floor masonry in both hands rushed in and hurled it at Biollante, bludgeoning the she-creature to a knee under the weight of the rubble. She raged, and kicked out with a leg, launching him several yards away with the force of being hit by a car. “Nrrahh!” Biollante arched her back as a barrage of rounds strafed her, a few piercing her stomach. Viscous orange blood spilled forth. She turned and found the attacker, fixating on him as he prepared to shoot again. A spear vine shot through his belly from behind, both withering and sprawling to the floor. She lowered her good arm, taxed even further by the psychic effort of controlling the severed limb. On her knees, Biollante looked down and touched a claw to the lifeblood leaking from her stomach wounds, examining it with a curious scowl of pain. Her breathing came with coarse wheezes. Two Purifiers, less brave than the others, emerged from behind the cover they’d taken, exchanged nervous words, hefted their weapons, and slowly advanced. Biollante hardly acknowledged their approach. Memories flashing in her mind of being stabbed, shot, penetrated, battered, a lifetime of conflict. But then she was struck by the notion that these painful memories were not hers. Deep wells of rage, anguish, fear, and hatred were within easy reach; but as tempting as it was to indulge these, she nevertheless began to discern a distance between them and self. The crunch of rubble underfoot brought her attention to the present, and she looked up to see the two Purifiers, weapons drawn on her, dead to rights. A sequence of well-placed bursts ripped into the breasts of the invaders, taking them both by surprise. Their fates sealed before they understood the nature of their deaths, they never saw Agent Grant Ward stalking like a panther from the shadows behind them.He lowered his weapon as he took in Biollante with astonishment, “What the hell?” Beast maneuvered the forceps carefully as he extracted the bullet from Nightcrawler, holding it up under the light to inspect. “Standard .223, 55 grain ammunition, critical damage sustained during impact.” He remarked before placing it in a tableside kidney dish. “The extent of initial tissue damage in Mr. Wagner remains unknown due to the effect of Biollante’s…eh… healing infusion.” He glanced to the readings on the holographic display where it registered the levels of radiation. All elevated above normal. “While the radiation of Godzilla’s cells produce a very potent but short-lived effect, it is difficult to predict what ramifications will result from such energy produced by Biollante. The accelerated rate of tissue regeneration, while advantageous in the immediate, may pose future complications.” He would have the same sentiment if he were dealing with normal human physiology. But he had no idea how a mutant genome as pronounced as Kurt’s would react to such exotic material. Using two fingers to spread the chest-fur aside, Beast watched the lips of the wound begin to mend together. Dani Moonstar staggered when she felt the wave of emotion from the mansion hit her. For the rest, it was the clamor of gunfire, screams, and destruction that sent shivers of fear and nervous murmurs through the group. Bobby Drake looked to the mansion with uncomfortable consideration. “That’s not…?” “No.” Kitty shook her head. “They wouldn’t make that much noise.” “It’s her…” Dani grit. With a hand rubbing the side of her head, she parted a group of leaves to put her gaze on the house. “Biollante, she’s different now.”Kitty and Bobby were bewildered. “Her?” Drake asked rhetorically. Rounding the corner, Jean poked her head into the intersecting hall before a salvo of bullets bit into the wall, forcing her to recoil. “At least one got past the defense system.” Back pressed to the wall, she gave Charles a mental image of what she’d seen: a single shooter kneeling over the slumped form of another Purifier. “The device around their heads,” Charles nodded. “That must be shielding their minds. Where would they acquire such technology?” “Why don’t we ask him.” Jean used her telekinesis to peel-off a white wall panel and turn it into an impromptu shield. She led with it as she spun around the corner once more, receiving a hail of sharp impacts on the forward side. With a motion of the hand, she projected the panel at the invader, forcing him to react. Jean used the opportunity to take hold of his weapon in her invisible grip and twist the barrel into an unusable curve. The man looked down as he pressed the trigger and the weapon misfired. Another flick and Jean removed the halo-device that protected his mind. He was frozen in place even as he reached up to grasp for it. Xavier moved forward, his fingers to his temple. “He doesn’t know where the equipment came from, they merely received it from his leadership. But he is under the impression that it was procured from a 3rd party, a paid supplier.” “Who would want to do business with these fanatics?” “I’m sure they found the Purifiers money as green as anybody else’s.”Jean found the notion of someone willing to sell weapons and tech to these murderous bigots beyond vile, but she supposed that kind of indifference was well-within Humanity’s capacity. “Isn’t it always.” The doors to Cerebro parted to admit Grey and Xavier into the resonant chamber, where the amplifying apparatus awaited its master. “I have to hope the rapport I began to build hasn’t been shattered.” He said tightly. “We still have no idea what Biollante is fully capable of, she could tear the whole property apart in a rampage.” “Or who exactly she thinks is friend or foe.” Biollante’s lips pulled back into a jagged snarl as she regarded the strange man, pale-green ichor dripping from her many wounds. Adrenaline fueled her pupil miosis, drawing her face into a predatory mask. No injury would dissuade her from presenting as formidable a threat as possible, the fringes of which were already beginning to heal by small degree. That he was not the same as the other men, she could tell, but it hardly meant he wasn’t a potential enemy. Biollante let a growl roil in her throat, rising to her full height and posturing in preparation for violence. “Hey now…” Ward began, holding up his open left palm as he crouched to place his weapon on the floor. “I’m a friend, see?” Biollante’s eyes darted to the weapon and back to him as he straightened out. “My name is Grant, I’m here to help, I’m a friend.” An instinct snapped into Biollante’s mind like a waking gasp, something about this man triggering her defenses. She rotated her head, bearing her gaze onto him, focusing her intent. The voices began to come as whispers, though he said nothing. Then images and emotions came in confusing pulses. Agent Ward flinched, his face pinching into a painful grimace, hands and fingers curling into strange configurations, his eyes crossing. For all the training he had undergone to combat assaults on his mind, the sheer brute force of the chimera’s intent was simply too much. Xavier took the Cerebro helm and slipped it over his head. Jean operated a few controls and powered the machine on as the Professor felt his mind expand. His first thought was for the students, locating them on the property and quickly discerning their safety. He warned Kitty and Bobby to keep themselves safe until it was certain the all the Purifiers had been dealt with. Then he found Biollante. Where before was a radiation of confusion and anger, he felt focus. In the mindspace, he created a likeness of the mansion, sans the demolition. In it, he found the psyche of Biollante holding another in her grasp. Writhing tendrils stretched out from her to what Charles recognized as the projection of Grant Ward’s mind. Other vines held his limbs in arrest, what represented her control over his body. Though the technique was peculiar, he understood what she was doing. Charles approached around to her face and laid his hands on the tethers, gently. “Let him go, Biollante. He’s here to help us.” “He lies.” She said without diverting her gaze. “Often.” He didn’t have the time to explain the nuances of a government intelligence agent. “I know, he has to do that sometimes, it’s okay-” “No… He lies, steals… murders.” Her glare hardened. “He is a bad man.” She raised a hand and clenched her fist, Agent Ward began to wail as the tendrils gripping his limbs began to pull. “NO!” Xavier placed his hands on the sides of her face and forced his will onto her. In the real world, Grant ward collapsed to the floor, blood seeping from his ears and nostrils, his eyes ablaze with fear, and he scampered to escape the same room as the she-creature. Biollante’s spine curled back as the Professor’s mind swarmed over hers, impressing itself, imposing a command to surrender. She brought her claws to her face, similar to where she felt his presence, and dug them into her flesh with a primal cry.Jean looked up as everything around them began to rumble, and even through the walls of the Cerebro construct, she felt Biollante screaming. She weighed a choice. In the mindscape, Charles tried his best to maintain a hold on Biollante’s mind, pushing an intent that she fall asleep. But her will was stronger than he expected, and the harder he pushed, the greater she fought. The mental construct of the mansion itself trembled and cracked, breaking down, the pieces falling with a splash into a layer of knee-deep water that seeped-up from fissures in the floor. The space darkened until only an ambient, pale light that was at all times behind either of them provided any illumination. Biollante fought through the strain to open one eye, seeing the kind face of Xavier, someone she trusted. But that trust was meant for someone else, someone else’s life. Her eye flashed with rage. The water quivered with movement. Tendrils sprung from under the surface to wrap-around Charles’ legs, nearly toppling him in the surprise. Xavier gripped the handrests of his mobile chair, straining to overcome the sheer ferocity of Biollante’s psyche. Another vine lashed out to coil itself around the neck of Charles’ psychic avatar. Working together, the vines peeled Professor X away from Biollante as he pried at his constraint. “Biollante, please! urk! You’ve got to-erak!” She cut off his plea with a piercing wail, a curtain of rain beginning to fall from the indiscernible sky. “Professor is Jean Grey’s friend… not mine.”Charles’ body bent back in the chair, veins bulging, face going flush. “None of these memories are mine…” She tilted her face to the blackness above, the rain washing over her. “None of you…” With sudden and violent force, Biollante was projected out of the watery mindscape and disappeared into the shadows. On the physical plane, Jean Grey navigated the rubble and bodies with hand outstretched. Directly opposite in the foyer, Biollante lay across the bottom few stairs of the flight to the second floor amidst the wreckage of the banister she’d been smashed through.Everyone else wanted to treat Biollante like a wounded child, an unfortunate soul to be pitied. And while Jean would take no joy in inflicting any pain, she wasn’t going to ignore how dangerous Biollante was, and the destruction it was capable of. “I don’t want to fight you.” She announced, hands up and ready. “But I won’t let you hurt my friends and tear my home apart either.” Biollante, panting and still enduring the pain of the Purifiers assault, tore herself back to her feet, eyes locked on Grey. The hybrid opened its mouth wide to reveal a tongue covered in pale barbs and issue a cry that amplified into a cacophony of shrill noises.Biollante lunged. Jean opened her hands to project a telekinetic wall that the chimera slammed into. “Now let’s pin you down.” Bringing her hands to shape a ball, Jean reformed the barrier into a sphere around Biollante, compressing it to subdue the towering mutation. While the creature possessed raw power, it lacked the honed abilities Jean had spent years developing. She also doubted it could put-up a fight for long without air. It wasn’t as direct as Susan Richard’s light constructs, but with enough application of will, she could seal the barrier. The translucent orb began to glow with a faint fiery miasma as Biollante raged against the force pressing in on her. It roared but no sound escaped the shell. Jean’s face pinched into a scowl of concentration, steadily increasing the pressure as required. The she-creature glared out from inside the burning globe, furious orange lights in black pits. For several seconds the two contested, eventually however, Jean’s strategy bore its fruit. Biollante became more animated, taking rapid, shallow breaths, bracing a hand against the barrier. Suddenly Jean felt a sense of danger. She twisted about just in time to see a length of vine swinging towards her but couldn’t alter her focus in time to prevent a collision. The mutant was taken off her feet and sent tumbling over the floor until her shoulder struck a block of rubble. “HRRA!” The telekinetic sphere dissipated, Biollante collapsed to a knee sucking in a long breath. Her eyes shifted to the human. Jean groaned as she reoriented herself, pain flaring in multiple parts of her body. She turned onto her back and held a gentle hand to her left-side ribs, the vine having struck her with all the force of a pick-up truck. The same vine was now rising from the ground, taking aim at her with its spear-head. Catching the movement, Grey sucked in a gasp and reached out to wrestle the tendril with her own invisible extension of will. Biollante inexorably got to her feet, one hand directing the vine, the other finding the severed end of her tail, her connection to the bud union. Still inert on the floor, it quivered and began to slide in her direction. The spear-vine began to shake as it was held off by Jean’s telekinesis, fragments and particles of matter being peeled off by the opposing force. Every time Jean increased the strength of her power, it was paid for by a clutch of agony as the rest of her body endured the stress. The jagged tears of Biollante’s tail and the stem came together with slithering and creaking sounds, eliciting a growl from the she-creature upon reconnection. Other vines then began to weakly squirm and twitch. “I don’t want to hurt you!” Jean projected her thoughts, though she had been loathe to engage the creature with her telepathy. “But I will if I have to!” The challenge incensed Biollante, and she roared, several of the tendrils coming back under her control with stuttering dexterity. Jean looked past her foe to the wreckage of the stairs. She took-up a length of broken railing and summoned it to her, directly through Biollante. The wooden shard sank itself into the creature’s thigh and pointing through the other side. The chimera howled, gripping the piece in hand and tearing it out. Jean used the opportunity to redirect the spear-vine, allowing it to stab into the ground beside her. Biollante roared and the house trembled, mouth-vines squealing and snapping. The she-creature trudged forward; Jean rolled sideways to get back on her feet. “Biollante, stop!” A wave of psychic energy swept over the hybrid, Xavier’s command booming. The she-creature raged as it tried to endure the attack, clutching at her head, flailing its tendrils madly. A head-splitting agony for Biollante that came in successive waves. For Charles, it was the same type of technique he’d used to subdue his half-brother, the Juggernaut. Jean recognized what was happening and levied her own psychic power towards debilitating the creature’s resistance. It was a new technique she’d been developing, but startlingly powerful. She focused her mind on projecting a blast of both telekinetic and telepathic force. She swung her arms forward, and a ripple of distorted space shot forth from Jean Grey as a pulse hit Biollante with enough power to lift the creature off its feet. Though the tether to the bud union prevented it from being sent flying like a leaf in the wind, it crashed into the railing of a stairwell. Pale-green ichor came spitting from its mouth from the concussive force crushing internal organs and blood vessels. “Keep her down, Jean,” Charles said into her mind. “I’ll try to install a mental inhibitor.” Jean dashed to the creature before it could recover and put both hands on either side of Biollante’s head, channeling her telepathy through direct contact. Still reeling from the assault, it offered only a guttural gasp as it eyes rolled back from the impulse of a powerful sedation. A hand came up to paw weakly at Jean’s face before losing the strength to support itself. With soft breaths, Biollante fell into slumber. Surrendering to the ache, Jean slumped down into a sitting position beside Biollante, wincing again. “Professor… What do we do now?”“…Triage.” Once more, the grounds of the Charles Xavier school for Gifted Youngsters were beset with flashing lights and first responders. Federal agents and medical personnel examined the fallen Purifiers and took statements from the students; SHIELD technicians tagged and boxed the unique gadgets recovered from the terrorists. It took Beast a good ten minutes to dissuade investigators from forcing their way into the lower levels. The sleeping Purifier readily taken into custody went a long way in satiating their demands. Henry McCoy had no inclination to grant them access to the medical bay where Kurt was still recovering under sedation, and where he was currently addressing Jean’s injuries. “And you’re sure Charles is holding up alright?” He asked, monitoring the MRI screen as Grey came sliding out from the machine, laying supine within a white gown. “He’s endured quite a lot of stress.” “You know he’s tougher than he looks, Beast.” She lay in the bed, grimacing and exhaling slowly. “Plus, he wants to keep an eye on all the agents crawling over the place.” Beast twitched his nose as he reviewed the images being generated, “I’m seeing multiple contusions on your ribs, pelvis, and left scapula, looks like some-” “I get it Henry… I’m banged up.” She said with a small curl of the lip. “That’s a succinct way of putting it.” He agreed. “Tell me: are you experiencing any mental distress?” Jean thought for a moment, feeling around in her own mind for tender spots. “Surprisingly, I don’t think so. If anything, honestly, I feel… clear.” “Perhaps this experience has been a catharsis.” Beast speculated, making notes on his sheet. “I suspect that your psyche has been entangled with Biollante since she emerged. Maybe being forced to perceive herself as distinct from you has… cut the umbilical cord?”Jean swallowed. “I don’t know how much I like your phrasing of it, but I suppose I should be glad.” Beast put his notes down, rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep sigh before adjusting his glasses. “Needless to say, I’d like you to get plenty of rest to heal… but you’ve been laid-up so much the past few days, I don’t think you’ll tolerate it. Just… try not to fight any terrorists or mutant hybrids for a few days.” Jean gave him a nod and a flat expression, “I’ll do my best.” She laid a hand on her side and rolled her head over to watch Nightcrawler, still slumbering peacefully. “Biollante… it really tried to heal Kurt?” “In her own way.” In a purely scientific sense, Biollante was an unprecedented opportunity to study any number of biological, developmental, and psychological aspects of this new life-form. But that wasn’t the part making things difficult for him. Jean could feel the sense of conflict radiating off him, but she decided against intruding. Above ground, Charles Xavier and Grant Ward stood side-by-side as they stared down into the hole in the middle of the foyer. “Soooo…” Grant began, arms folded over his chest. Red still stained part of his face. “Is there something you’d like to share with me?” “Nothing you don’t already know, or at least suspect, Agent.” It wasn’t a matter of attempting to read the SHIELD officer’s mind, Xavier knew Ward wasn’t going to be fooled by any excuse he might try to make. “Does SHIELD have any intention on how they’d like to proceed?” He asked, leaving the unspoken implication to dangle. “That depends.” Ward took a long breath through his nose. “Of course there’s a lot going on right now, and our policy with the X-Men provides you a lot of latitude. If I report that the world’s foremost mutant heroes successfully repelled a home invasion, they might consider the damage and… unique manner of deaths as par the course. At least until someone decides to look a little closer.” Charles raised a brow, “The alternative?” “I report that the X-Men are harboring a being of unknown powers and origin, that killed several humans on American soil. At which point several big, very intrusive eyes will turn in your direction.” Xavier measured his next words. “And… who do you think is better prepared to deal with such a creature; the X-Men, or the owners of those intrusive eyes?” “Well…” Ward gestured outward and let his gaze rove over the wreckage of the house. “It’s hard to say.” He turned to Xavier in earnest. “You tell me.” “We’ve established a rapport with Biollante, and-“ “Oh, you gave it a pet name, lovely.” Ward cut sarcastically. “And we, frankly, are more capable of restraining such a being from causing the type of damage those intrusive eyes would be so concerned about.” Grant rubbed the side of his face and sighed. “I knew this could get hairy when I took the post.” He reminded himself, thinking for several moments. Xavier considered taking a peek into his mind, but decided against what was likely unnecessary meddling. Besides, he didn’t need telepathy to know the man was coming to a frustrating decision. “Here’s what we’ll do, Professor: I’ll write a report that keeps the busy bodies from trying to pry their way into your secret little crevices, and you will do whatever you need to do to keep that thing under control.” “You know I can’t make any guarantees.” “Neither can I.” Dani Moonstar controlled her breaths as she entered the main foyer, where the gaping pit sat in the epicenter of rubble and dead vines. She could practically see the residual psychic energy still saturating the space, like walking into a steaming rainforest. The presence was chilling. The sheer magnitude of the powers in conflict between Jean and Biollante. All the X-Men knew Jean, as the avatar of the Phoenix force, was the vessel of incomprehensible power. Biollante, the scion of Jean and the incomparable Godzilla, Dani could feel the fearless anger with which the creature had fought both mentally and physically. It was still there, to her senses, a ghostly double of the stalk rising from the hole, the tendrils still writhing. The impression of Jean bearing down on Biollante as the creature struggled against the combined efforts of Grey and the Professor was as clear to her as if it were chiseled in marble. “Excuse us.” Dani was jostled out of her vision by a pair of passing SHIELD agents bearing a bodybag on a stretcher. For a moment she wondered how dull their experience of the world must be compared to hers. When they had passed, she moved to where the images of Jean and Biollante were posed over the stairway rubble, and it was like approaching a bonfire. “Don’t get too close.” She looked across the span to see the Professor watching her, giving her the familiar expression of a patient father with a curious child. “We’ve discussed the dangers of ‘immersion’.” “I know, Professor.” She responded in her mind. “I’ve just never seen something so vividly before.” “Exploration is always tempting,” He said aloud this time, understanding her fixation. “But for right now I’d prefer you were out of sight while our ‘visitors’ are still present.” “I hope nobody went in my room.” Bobby Drake muttered, he and Kitty turning aside to let one of the nameless SHIELD agents pass them by in the stairwell. With the main foyer so busy, they elected to shepherd the younger students to their bedrooms on the upper floor via an alternate route. “Why?” Kitty asked, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the other students were in tow. “What are you hiding?” “I’m not hiding anything; I just don’t like people going through my stuff.” “Out of everything that just happened, Bobby, you’re worried someone dug through your closet and looked under your bed?” “Uh yeah, especially some terrorists or government agents.” “Wouldn’t want them to find your dirty underwear.” Bobby grimaced but offered no reply. Jean opened her eyes with a frustrated huff, unable to find any rest with so much to think about; and despite the small dose of painkillers Beast had given her, there was no position bereft of discomfort. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, sucking a breath through her teeth as she endured the pain. A table on wheels helped support her weight as she gingerly crept over to where Kurt slept until she was able to brace herself on the siderails of his bed. There was a lot in Jean that told her how to treat Biollante; that it was a danger to be contained. But she couldn’t dismiss what she had seen herself, the creature express a sense of sorrow that he had been hurt, and lent its own vitality to help him. Regardless of whether it had done so because of a false fondness or not, there had been no confusion or deception in the moment. Biollante really did care. Jean took a glance at the digital display of his biometrics, he was holding stable, the intravenous flush working to dilute the radioactive particulates in his system. “Hang in there, little buddy.” She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved the Rosary beads Kurt normally wore, but Beast had put aside for the medical examination. She had grown up Episcopalian herself and was never a particularly religious person. But Kurt had invited Jean to Catholic Mass a few times and she knew how much his faith meant to him.With the Rosary in her palm, she took Kurt’s hand and clasped it to hers, bracing the beads in between. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…” Beast found the use of a power dampening collar distasteful, but at times, a necessary measure. He wasn’t even sure how effective it would be on a creature like Biollante, given that her abilities were not primarily derived from the X-gene. But he took the measure anyway, on top of confining her to the cell designed to hold the likes of Juggernaut and other powerful figures. Whether it could contain a kaiju, remained to be seen. Aesthetically, it reminded him of ‘Silence of the Lambs’. He stood silently, tapping notes into a digital clipboard, glancing up every so often. Biollante was suspended in a gel-like liquid designed to provide oxygen without the use of a breathing apparatus which might compromise the structural security of the enclosure. Shackles made of artificial Adamantium bound it wrist and ankle to the base. Even with the components of monster and plant, the unmistakable traces of Jean’s natural beauty were evident in the facial features. This was clearer now as the chimera floated in serene dormancy. Elsewhere, in New York State “Mudaris, the attack on the mansion did not go as expected.” The lone figure kneeling on the carpet, the dark eastern horizon drawn out before him through the tall windows. “Our brothers are now blessed martyrs. Let us remember them for their courage as they stand now in the presence of the Lord.” The man who had come to bear this news stood at the edge of the room, unsure how their leader, Al-Rahim could maintain such composure. “What should we do now, Mudaris?” “Shaqiq,” The man known as Al-Rahim rose to his feet with patent measure. “Did you think this struggle would be completed so soon? In the breath of a sparrow? No. It churns and continues like the tide, back and forth. What comes now is but another flow of the waters. We leave in the morning.”A mile from the X-Mansion The two Purifiers who had infiltrated Xavier’s computer ceased running as they reached a clutch of trees beyond the borders of the property. “We have the information, were you told what to do with it?” One asked, removing his mask and leaning on a tree to catch his breath. His partner said nothing as he drew a strange object from his gear, some kind of silver pistol device. Without ceremony, he fired a beam of white energy at his partner. The man gave only a brief wail of terror before the molecules of his body came apart and dissipated, leaving nothing behind. Pressing at something lodged in his ear, the lone figure spoke in a detached monotone, “The data has been obtained. Returning to base now.” Operating a device affixed to his belt, his body was transformed into a thousand light particles, and disappeared....
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