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Provide a full summary of the comic book.

[Assistant]
Wish You Were Here!
A moment ago, Jean Grey – only she doesn’t currently wear the face of Jean Grey – could feel the delicious warmth of the tropical sun on her skin. She could smell the salt water that surrounded her on every side. Now, all she feels is the dry, searing heat of a roaring inferno. A moment ago, she had closed her eyes in Paradise… only to open them in Hell.
A completely flummoxed, flustered Jean spells out her husband’s, Scott’s name, as she finds herself suspended in the air, by some restraints. Deafening explosions wrack the surroundings. Instinctively, she pulls against her restraints, finds them lacking and breaks free. “Instinctively,” because her entire life, it seems, has been one long struggle. In her youth, she battled the advent of her psionic powers – a mutant ability that manifested itself before she was ready to bear the burden. As a woman, she and her friends fought for years to protect a world that feared and hated them simply for what they were. But not today. Today was supposed to be different. Today was the first day of her honeymoon.
Jean is not too proud to say it: she’s officially confused. One minute, she and Scott are lounging on the shores of Saint Barts. The next, she’s alone in the absolute middle of the strangest place she’s ever seen in her life. All around, she sees a complex of bizarre platforms – most of them smoking. A quick glance at the complex’s nerve center – if indeed, that is what it is – tells her there’ll be no information forthcoming from those who brought her here. All the people she sees around her are dead, their remains in many cases charred or burning.
A bit further, she sees another man suspended in the air, in a similar fashion to how she was. She almost didn’t realize she had company in her travels. No one she recognizes, but someone who could use a hand nevertheless. She’ll just reach out telepathically and pull him to…
Suddenly, she realizes in panic that nothing happened – her telepathy doesn’t work. She has to do this the old fashioned way. With that poor man’s platform and half a harness blown away, she’d give him another five seconds – which gives her three. “Here goes nothing!” she shouts and makes for the long leap. Wherever Hank McCoy is, she hopes he’s smiling! Just as the hapless man’s support gives way, she grabs him, while holding onto a cable.
Despite the deafening cacophony, the violent heat, the thick black smoke that seeks to engulf them both, she still knew – they both knew the instant they touched. “A real close save there… Jean,” the man quips in a very weak voice, as Jean catches him. Jean recognizes him in turn: Scott! Cyclops confirms it’s he, but what he’d like to know is where they are – and what are they doing in these bodies?!
Underneath the giant citadel, the denizens of this alien place show very little interest in what happened there. Few of them only glance upwards at the sight of the assault on the Askani Cloisters. For nearly five decades, it has towered here above the old meandering river, a mockery of – as well as a challenge – to the despotic rule over the land. Everyone knew such a challenge couldn’t last forever. Apocalypse would not – could not – tolerate it. Almost two thousand years to the day Scott Summers and Jean Grey pledged each other their love, Apocalypse, He-Who-Never-Dies, decided the final day of the Askani Sisterhood had finally come.
Moving around the Askani Cloisters, Jean asks Scott if there’s any chance his new body has optic blasts. Scott reveals it doesn’t seem to. He asks her if she thinks they’ll need them. As if to answer them, a deafening noise is heard. “Just a hunch,” a frightened Jean quips. Good hunch, Scott agrees.
Hidden, they both watch a bit below, where a hard-faced, blond man, dressed in a sophisticated costume and wielding energy in his left hand, announces to several armored soldiers that they have their orders. Now that the child has been found, every one of these traitors is expendable! One of the soldiers tentatively suggests that it appears that everyone here is already dead. The blond man urges them to be creative then. For years, the many humans below have drawn strength from the tenants of the Askani Clan. “We’ll see how loud and clear they cheer, when the remains of their precious saviors are draped about the city forum!” he gloats.
Still hidden, Jean and Scott telepathically communicate with each other, verifying that, despite everything, they’ve maintained their psychic bond. Scott supposes it makes sense. Whoever placed them in these bodies, filled them with Scott and Jean’s essences. Scott and Jean were part of each other, long before they got married.
One of the soldiers addresses his superior. The officer coldly tells him to shut up and start dragging corpses up to the surface transport. The soldier explains that’s just it – he’s bio-scanning two survivors! The officer is surprised. “Where, you gene-dropping son of a flatscan?!” he demands. The soldier points to the rafters, where Scott and Jean are hiding.
“Should we rush them?” Jean telepathically asks Scott. “You have to ask?” Scott replies. “On three…?” Jean suggests. Below, the cruel official orders everyone to get their weapons down. “Powers at the ready!” he exclaims as her charges himself with energy. Mother Cromwell’s favorite son didn’t become part of Apocalypse’s elite to spend his career on clear-up duty! Once he pulls the secrets of their sacred clan from their bleeding lips, Apocalypse will be…
Those are the last words he ever speaks, as a wave of psionic energy eviscerates him. “Sir?!” a soldier gasps in shock. One of his colleagues is sickened: that was disgusting. The voice of Cromwell’s murderer is heard, asserting that Apocalypse is a fool. He’s been a fool in all his myriad forms and features, for as long as she’s known him. All of which speaks ill of his followers. She asks them to leave now and they shall live.
“B-by the lips of our master!” one of them exclaims in terror, upon recognizing her. Another soldier is in disbelief: the initial reports said she was killed in the first wave. A blue-skinned mutant soldier deduces the reports were wrong, then. Quickly everyone, she urges them – on her command, they attack as one! “Then alas, children – I fear you’ll die as one,” the mysterious woman proclaims and lashes out with her psionic powers at them, killing them without restraint. Though there was a time she could easily disarm them with but a thought, the years have robbed her of her ability to be subtle. May God forgive them all.
Jean suddenly recognizes their rescuer and alerts Scott. For all her aged, wrinkled, wizened face, this appears to be Rachel Summers! Rachel telepathically shushes her “mom.” Not another word, until she’s taken them away from here where they can…
Suddenly, Rachel is trapped in a psionic cocoon. After all that’s happened, she’s weak to fight it! She hears a voice behind her: “Consider yourself twice blessed, Mother Askani!” Rachel telepathically instructs Scott and Jean to stay out of this.
Rachel’s captor, the stout, towering Prelate of Apocalypse known as Ch’vayre, shows himself. He admits that his understanding was “after all that happened” that she was killed during the first wave of their ambush upon her home. Yet a closer look reveals barely a scratch to her! Apparently, she enjoys making the Lord’s dog soldiers appear to be idiots, by causing them to believe they cut her in two with their weapons. Not at all, Rachel retorts. There are still mutants upon this Earth who believe that don’t believe having genetic attributes entitles them to…
Just then, she lets out a cry of pain and anguish, as Ch’vayre tightens the hold of his psionic cocoon on her body. Considering her a “traitor,” Ch’vayre stresses that what she or he believe doesn’t matter. All that truly matters is the law of the Apocalypse! It has always been a mystery to him why he has put up with the existence of her petty religious order as long as he has. For years, she and her sisters have catered to the needs of humans and mutants and synthetics… ever androids were beneath their “standards.” Instead of offering them the hope of a better world, she should have taught her congregation to accept the world the way it is! Mutants rule… and only those of them who are the strongest, survive! Mother Askani and her entire clan of sycophants have just become extinct!
Much to Scott’s surprise, Jean suddenly leaps down. She tells him she’s sorry but she has to – and asks him to cover her. Facing Ch’vayre, she asks him to hold it: that woman is under her protection. “And you arrre…?” Ch’vayre derisively wonders. A friend, Jean simply replies. Ch’vayre suggests that, in her next life, she takes greater care in establishing her allegiances. As it is, she has chosen to enlist her services to a broken and dead religious order, just at the moment the same religion is being interred in the ground. Jean insists that where there’s life, there’s hope.
“Really?” Ch’vayre scoffs – he’s never found that to be true. Without any qualms, he fires at her with his gun. Jean dodges the shot, but realizes Scott was right to hang back – this is suicidal. Until she learns what new powers come with this body, she’s nothing more than a moment’s distraction to this behemoth!
Ch’vayre suggests that, if she insists on pursuing this charade, they at least scan her genslate for future reference. Indeed scanning her, he puffs out in contempt as the Cerebro pinpoints her as human. He’s impressed she’s willing to sacrifice her life for a mutant. It’s not what he’d expect of a human. Jean is aghast: a human?! Is he serious?! She realizes that someone – their own daughter? – transported them who knows where without any powers! “Nice try, flatscan… you even look surprised,” Ch’vayre scoffs and punches her in the face.
Scott also jumps down next to him. “Now what?” Ch’vayre huffs. He had long suspected this place was crawling with vermin – he just assumed they weren’t of the Homo inferior variety. Undeterred, Scott instructs him on “Lesson Number One”: never underestimate your opponent; it’s a sight of poor upbringing. Furious, Ch’vayre pushes him away. He roars that he was raised in the gene-caste were all the gifted were taken! There are no aspersions to cast upon his childhood! Scott tells him to relax: where he comes from, that was barely an insult. Ch’vayre retorts that where he comes from is the sewers – the very spot to which he will return his soon-to-be-decaying corpse! He urges him to beg him and perhaps he will die sooner.
Scott quips that they’ll both die of boredom before that day comes. In all his years of supremacy, Ch’vayre may have forgotten – if he ever knew – that a “mutant” is nothing more than a human who has learned to change; to adapt to his environment. Putting theory into practice, Scott grabs the remains of a dog soldier’s weapon and points it at Ch’vayre. He apologizes for the sucker punch, but it’s not as if Ch’vayre went out of his way to be polite before he ambushed Scott’s daughter. Ch’vayre is puzzled: daughter?! The Mother Askani is…? Before he can think further, Scott anesthetizes him with the gun. He tells him to rest now – they can talk later.
Jean rushes to Rachel. The exhausted Rachel tells them they must quickly leave here before… “No!” Jean disagrees. Rachel is in no position to move. They’ll fight if they… Rachel shushes her. Jean’s speaking nonsense to an old woman who has no time for it. Many people risked everything they had to bring Scott and Jean two thousand years into their future. She begs Jean and Scott not to throw away their hopes and dreams on her behalf.
Jean is at loss for words: two thousand? Rachel apologizes. She should have asked first – but they being her parents and all, she didn’t think they’d mind. Jean asks her if there’s a way out of this place – before Ch’vayre wakes. Rachel motions at a portal – for all of them. Scott argues he’ll bring up the… Rachel cuts him off: all of them, she repeats. Together.
Her rationale is immediately obvious. For this is but one of countless maintenance tubes, woven throughout the Askani Cloisters, making travel through a difficult proposition. After traveling about a mile straight down, Scott, Jean and Rachel end up splashing into a water-filled room. Scott muses that, for all her power, it seems Rachel is running scared from something.
Words between Scott and Jean are unnecessary, as the effrontery to their five senses confirms their immediate location: the three of them are at the bowels of the Askani Cloisters. Unnerved, Jean notices there’s… blood seeping from the walls. Is this entire complex… alive? The hopelessly weak Rachel, resting in Scott’s arms, explains the blood is a result of the massacre above. All of them are dead, their lives willingly given willingly for theirs.
Scott urges her to rest now. Later she can tell them… Rachel insists there’ll be no “later” – not for her. Not for the rest of the world if the two of them don’t stop interrupting her. Best way to sum it up is that, two millennia after Scott and Jean joined the X-Men and first defeated him, Apocalypse is triumphant. She manages to conjure an image of Apocalypse, which Jean notices looks like…
“A woman, Jean?” Rachel finishes her thought. She confirms this. This is Apocalypse’s most recent vessel. Just as Rachel is – was – the final vessel of the Phoenix Force. Nearly eighty years ago, it left her old and fragile frame, to search for more fertile ground. It is fortunate that even the residue of the Phoenix Force is still impressive.
Scott wonders how she got here. Last they saw her… Rachel confirms that yes, it was at their wedding. Upon arriving home, she learned she was the key to saving Captain Britain from the time stream. Elated that her parents had just wed, she joyfully exchanged places with Brian, never once regretting her decision.
What she found when she arrived in this time, almost a hundred years ago, was the Apocalypse’s long predicted Dark Age of the Homo superior, had come to pass. Perhaps even a little more anarchistic than even he would have preferred. Murdering sects of savage, cruel, powerful mutants had their way with the “dinosaurs” that had become humanity. A considerably broader definition that in their time, humanity came to encompass all life forms weaker that the strongest of the mutant caste. Anyone could have been killed, at any moment, for any reason.
“My God…” Jean whispers. She wonders: wasn’t there anyone to stand against them. Rachel tries to make them understand: for almost a century before this, the world enjoyed an almost unprecedented racial harmony. The age of Xavier was a time when all races lived in peace. A peace Apocalypse used against an unsuspecting, trusting planet. The people had their will badly battered by the time he’d arrived. Rachel began the Clan Askani. In today’s language it means “family of the outsiders.” Closest thing she could come up with that sounded like “X-Men.”
As Rachel catered to the sick, she observed that every few years, Apocalypse took on a new form. And spent less and less time in each new manifestation, as if he were burning them out – and therein lies the key to his defeat. He’d been looking for a frame that would accommodate his powers. He who preached the survival of the fittest was trying desperately to survive. And then it occurred to her: he was trying to hold on for the perfect vessel. One dear to all their hearts: Nathan Christopher Summers. Which is why she arranged to grab the child first.
But baby Nathan was desperately ill. She did what she could to save him from the ravages of the Techno-organic Virus. But he was running out. As a failsafe, the Askani created a healthy clone. Once Apocalypse figured out Nathan was in his timeline, Rachel knew he’d become desperate and attack Askani Hold. Together, a cured Nathan and she would have ultimately had the power to overthrow Apocalypse. It is clear now, that day will never come to pass. Which is why she sent for her “mom” and “dad,” Jean and Scott… They’re their last hope.
Telekinetically raising them in the air, Rachel explains that, to accomplish their goal, Scott and Jean will need the proper… tools. As they’ve already discovered, the bodies they currently possess, and will possess for their entire stay here, were provided by cloning DNA remains the Sisterhood gathered from their descendants. They are as genetically similar to their original bodies as possible. Unfortunately, Rachel continues, with her own power fading, there’s a limit to the degree she can recreate the mutant abilities they possessed in their own bodies – which would never have survived the time jump arranged by Rachel and the Clan Askani. Bodies which will become available after Cab… after Nathan has defeated Apocalypse.
Showered in Rachel’s psionic energy, Scott and Jean experience a brief moment of agony, before they are returned to the ground, their powers partially restored. Catching his breath, Scott musters the strength to ask where Nathan is. Rachel reveals that, moments ago, he was spirited away from the massacre above by a synthcon named Boak, a friend of hers. They will find them, no doubt, at a safe house in the upper region.
Jean notices that Rachel must be in incredible pain. She begs her to let them help her. Rachel explains they cannot, for if she is to be any use to them at all it will not be on this plane of existence. Her time is growing near, for without the Phoenix Force she is not much longer for this Earth. She urges them to go quickly now, before Ch’vayre…
Uttering a terrible scream, she suddenly collapses and stays still. The feelings that wash over Jean are startling and unfamiliar. Owing less to the mild disorientation that comes from residing in a body that is not her own than to the surprisingly maternal nature of her feelings. Rushing by Rachel, she holds her lifeless body in her arms. Jean is dejected. In their own era, it’s been hardly a week since she and Rachel reconciled, and here she is, knee deep in the blood of strangers, with Rachel’s comatose body in her arms. It can’t end this way… it can’t. Scott promises it won’t.
It was less than a week – and two thousand years ago – when this couple made a similar promise to one another. To love, honor and cherish each other, every day for the rest of their lives. Having taken their vows in front of friends and family, they left for a tropical paradise to celebrate their union in privacy. A celebration three days new, when it was irrevocably shattered by the gentle caress of the Clan Askani, echoing across the ages. Upon the moment of contact – of intrusion – Jean was overcome by an agony that was not her own, as five of the Askani sisters ignored the pain and bloodshed and chaos of Apocalypse’s assault, in order that they might allow the minds of Scott and Jean to traverse the centuries. As pre-ordained by the Mother Askani, once Jean was assimilated, the psionic bond that exists between her and Scott insured completion of the time switch. What became of their original bodies, emptied of mind and soul before they even hit the shallow waters off the beach in Saint Barts, is a question they both push out of their minds for the moment.
Emerging from the Askani Cloisters, Jean tells Scott, who follows suit, carrying the comatose Rachel, that he should see this. She finds it all so different now. Scott agrees that the landscape looks unrecognizable. If not for Rachel, he’d doubt they were even on… Jean clarifies she’s not talking about the view. She’s talking about the perspective. Since the day the slipped into those blue and gold jumpsuits at the Professor’s school, they’ve faced everything the world had to throw at them. There were times, she’ll admit now, when she was nervous. Other times she was surprised. And, once in a great while, scared.
But now? This is different. The Professor. Ororo. Warren. Everyone they ever knew – ever loved – is gone. They’ve spent years risking their lives for a world that feared them because of what they were. Not a lot of fun… but at least it was their world, their lives. But now they’re so far into the future, they might as well be on another planet entirely. Scott stresses she’s forgetting the one thing that hasn’t changed: their love for each other. Any world with that much going for it, is worth fighting for.
“My human friends – why do you delay the inevitable?” they suddenly hear the voice of the dreaded Ch’vayre. Patrolling the area on a vehicle with his aides and still searching them, Ch’vayre promises that, if they agree to spare all of them the time it will take to track them down, he might be able to arrange their deaths at the hands of the Lord Apocalypse himself. “Think of the glory!” he tries to lure them. How positively generous of the guy, Scott sneers as he and Jean, along with the comatose Rachel, go into hiding.
Ch’vayre clarifies that the House of the Askani has fallen. Just as the Xavier collective fell before that, and the Scions of Genetics before that, and the X.S.E. before them. Only Apocalypse remains… only his vision of a world where the strongest survive!
One of his soldiers informs Ch’vayre that the cerebral imprints he’s been trailing have gone suddenly… cold. Working under the assumption he’s being psionically blindsided, he suggests a bio-anomaly scan of this quadrant. Ch’vayre replies that won’t be necessary. Even if Mother Askani is still alive after all this, she would be much too weak to jam his scan – and he’s already established her would-be saviors are humans. He finds this is getting tedious. They should be celebrating with their Lord, instead of wading through the remains of his transgressors. This man and woman, whoever they are, have already shown an affinity for the weak and helpless. On this note, he orders them to bring forth the child! “The child,” Scott thoughtfully whispers. Jean shushes him; her powers apparently aren’t as developed in this body. It’s all she can do to mentally block awareness of all three of them.
Ch’vayre holds an infant high up. He proposes an exchange: a new life for an old one. This infant was torn from the grip of a wounded synthcon who counted himself among the Clan Askani’s supporters, so he’s assuming it holds some significance for these people. He asks them to step forward, lay the dying, broken body of their sacred mother before them – and the boy is theirs! Jean asks Scott if this is… Scott can’t tell – not from here. He can’t even tell if the child is still alive.
Ch’vayre boasts that soon these tunnels will be filled to overflowing with soldiers loyal to Apocalypse. He’s offering the two renegade humans a chance to leave, to divorce themselves of affairs which do not concern them. He’s allowing them to opportunity to leave here with one of their own… a human. Flawed; scarred; afflicted, he clarifies, as he reveals the face of the baby – but a human, nonetheless, he adds.
This is a sight Scott felt he’d never see again in all his life. The sight of his infant son, Nathan Christopher Summers – his face ravaged by the Techno-organic Virus. Jean alerts Scott that Ch’vayre’s baiting them. Scott insists that’s Nathan, just like when he was, when he was forced to send him into this future to save his life! One Ch’vayre, or one thousand – nothing’s going to keep them apart! Jean wasn’t suggesting otherwise, just pointing the obvious. “On three, then?” she offers. “No!” Scott replies. He instructs her to take Rachel and find a way out. The four of them will meet up later.
Seeing Scott ready for action, Jean pleads him to come back. He doesn’t even know what he’s working with. He’s already too far out of her range to psionically mask! Scott urges her to give him a telekinetic lift to Ch’vayre, then go! Jean insists they’re in this together: “Till death us do part, remember?”
Nevertheless, she telekinetically pushes Scott towards Ch’vayre – although Scott remarks she didn’t have to throw him this hard! He manages to right himself just in time, as Ch’vayre’s lackeys begin to attack him. Ch’vayre observes him slamming into his men with enough force to shatter every bone in his body. He finds it an “interesting” fighting technique – desperate, yet effective. He gives the child to his assistant, Aurron. Charging up, he confesses to being surprised the humans hadn’t left when they had even the slightest chance of survival…
Scott retorts that Ch’vayre is the one who should stick around – he hasn’t even begun to surprise him! A limited amount of energy begins fizzling from Scott’s eyes. Ch’vayre is at loss: his eyes? But the readings indicated he was not a…
Scott zaps him with his optic blasts and gives him lesson number two: don’t believe everything you read. The frightened Aurron mumbles this is insane! No one has opposed the will of Apocalypse in nearly a hundred years – let alone a mutant! Times change, Cyclops retorts and blasts him. And every once in a while, they change for the better, Scott thinks as he grabs baby Nathan. “Daaa…?” the infant struggles to speak. Scott confirms that yes, daddy’s here.
Jean telepathically assures him that no one could be happier for him, but they’ve got to get moving if they’re going to be holding any family reunions any time soon. And it looks like Scott’s gained a lot more control over this version of his optic blasts. Scott advises her to ignore the remaining attacking soldiers. Jean quips there’s an idea she wouldn’t have thought of on her own. Scott urges her to concentrate on throwing open the drainage pipes and flood the chamber with all the water all at once. Satisfied, Jean admits she knew there was a reason she agreed to obey him. She does as Scott instructs, and floods the room.
Scott reminds her she didn’t agree to obey him. She had that specifically written out of the marriage vows. Jean admits that’s true. But that was for another reason entirely. Scott begs her: not in front of the children! “See you below, Scott?” Jean asks him. It’s a date, he replies.
It’s nearly an hour before the manufactured flood abates – a testament to the will of the lone survivor of Apocalypse’s soldiers. Ch’vayre spent that time clinging to the walls of the remains of the sanctuary that was, until recently, the Askani Cloister – just as surely as he will refuse to let go of the mystery presented here to him this day. He vows that whoever this man and woman are, wherever they go, they should know that this is not over. In the name of the Apocalypse, this is not over!
Some twenty miles down along the shoreline, Cyclops makes it to the share. Amazingly, it also appears Nathan slept through the whole thing. Jean also reaches the shore and wittily wonders which side of the family Nathan gets that from. Scott is relieved to see her. He was afraid it’d take weeks to find each other again! Not likely, Jean replies. Fortunately, their bond allowed Rachel and her to stay telekinetically tethered to Scott and Nathan. Helping her to the shore, Scott asks her if Rachel is all right. As near as Jean can tell, she is. She’s in a coma, but Jean’s not able to detect anything active within her mind.
She remarks, it’s official… If they’re going to pull this off – raise Nathan, overthrow Apocalypse and liberate all the races enslaved in this era – it’s entirely up to the two of them. Scott banters that if they accomplish even half of that, he’d say they had a fairly productive honeymoon.


[User]
<image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image><image>
Provide a full summary of the comic book.

[Assistant]
Tenure
Scott, Jean and little Nathan Summers are hot, exhausted, hungry. But one of that matter because they are together – they are a family. Jean is holding little Nathan – or “Nate” – in her arms, both of them atop a mule. Calling her “Redd,” a tired Nate asks Jean if they are almost there yet. Gazing at a distance, Scott assures him they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be. They’re “home.”
According to their transit disks, the unit designate: Dayspring has been travelling for three weeks. “Permission granted by Lord Apocalypse’s interprovince pilgrimage council for tertiary migration: cloister shade to the citadel of Coastcrest.” In truth, however, Scott and Jean’s journey began over two thousand years ago. Back then, in the last decade of the twentieth century, it was just the two of them. Scott Summers and Jean Grey – newlyweds enjoying a brief respite from their responsibilities as X-Men. A honeymoon cut short when they were psionically pulled into the future, and charged with the task of protecting Scott’s long-lost son, Nathan Christopher, from the X-Men’s old enemy, the mutant overlord called Apocalypse.
Over the past five years, Slym and Redd Dayspring – as Scott and Jean now call themselves – have hidden themselves among the sapien caste, living hand to mouth, fleeing from town to town, province to province, making any sacrifice necessary to insure the safety of the child destined to free an entire world from genetic oppression.
Scott helps Nathan get off the mule. Nate grouches that this is their third “home” this chronsect. Every time he starts fun-bonding, they start routing again. Jean claims that Coastcrest has been their target all along. Now that they’re here, they’ll be able to settle down for a while. Nate insists he liked the other place better, and the place before that betterer, and…
Jean reminds him that the law says that every ten years, every non-mutant unit must return to the city of their origin for a genetic scan. She tells him to give it a chance – this might be the best place to live. Nate agrees: they’re humans. He shrewdly notes they’ll never live anyplace nice. Holding Jean’s hand as all three of them walk to the city, he asks her if she and Slym ever thought about dumping him, like his real parents did, so that his diseases wouldn’t make it harder for them to fit in. “Oh, sure,” Jean scoffs. A day doesn’t go by that they don’t try to trade him in for something useful, like a blender or another schmule. Nate momentarily gulps, before he realizes she’s teasing – right? “Mostly,” Jean further teases him. Nate giggles. So… what’s a blender? he asks.
Watching them, Cyclops thinks it’s amazing. After everything they’ve been through, they’ve managed to stay together as a family. In many ways, that family began on the day Scott wed Jean. Yet in many other ways, this particular branch of the Summers family tree began years before that happy event. On the darkest day of his young life, Scott allowed a novitiate of the Clan Askani to take his infant son, Nathan Christopher, in order to cure the boy of a deadly Techno-Organic Virus. That most heart-wrenching of decisions would not have been easier had he known his own time-lost daughter, Rachel, was in fact the sacred Mother Askani, or that she had founded this neo-religion, and sought to have Nathan Christopher so that one day he would liberate an enslaved planet as the man called Cable.
But when the despotic genetic overlord and ancient enemy of the X-Men, Apocalypse, at last struck out against the Clan Askani, a desperate Rachel reached back across the centuries and psionically pulled her parents into the future so that her dream would not die with the Clan. Almost immediately, the disoriented pair was confronted by the Paladin Ch’vayre, a Prelate of Lord Apocalypse, the uncontested ruler of this future’s genetic hierarchy. Using variations of their respective mutant powers created for their new bodies by Mother Askani, the newly united “family,” such as it is, escaped from the remains of the Askani Hold with the unified goal of overthrowing Apocalypse. The key to that downfall is the child, Nathan Christopher Summers. Scott muses it’s not everybody who’s been given a second chance to…
He suddenly groans in pain, as his knee gives in and he lands on his bottom. The trip through time has taken him in another body, one which allows him control over his optic blasts for the first time in his life. But Scott was not here five minutes when he shattered his knee in the fall from the hold. Not fun, no… but a small price to pay for a man to finally have his son. He supports himself on his mule, straining to get up.
A man, who passes by, halts at Scott’s sight. “Ill met, fellow traveler?” he asks Scott. Scott thanks him, but he’s fine. Curious, the man could not help but notice that their unit speaks Old Englishe… no? Cyclops nervously denies this; perhaps he heard them incorrectly. “Perhaps,” the man admits and wishes him “g’journey” as he moves on. Scott returns the wish. Jean whispers to Scott if this is trouble. Scott admits that there could be. They have to be more careful. Jean telepathically remarks that he tripped over a rock. How could…
Cyclops explains that he’s talking about using what they call Old Englishe in front of other people. They might find it more comfortable, true, but it marks them as outsiders when they’re trying hard to fit in. For the moment, when they need, they’ll communicate through their psychic rapport. She reminds her that the entire reason they’re hiding out here among the humans is to raise Nathan out from under the eye of Apocalypse’s ruling class. Jean also reminds him that this is the same reason they’re “returning” to Crestcoast, because the fractured remains of the Clan Askani came up for documentation which puts them squarely and safely in the lowest caste of humans. It’s funny, though, she doesn’t feel like the lowest caste, she banters and she and Scott kiss with passion. Seeing this, Nathan sighs and sits down on the soil. At it again, he grumps. He disapprovingly notes that these two are in perpetual motion.
ElsewhereThe House of Apocalypse is only three hundred miles south, along a body of water once known as the Pacific. But for all its wealth, its excess, its singular pursuit of unbridled hedonism, it might as well be an entire world away. Most of the mutant ruling class would not have it another way. One among them, however, the first among equals, could not be any less interested in the party which defines and celebrates the privileges of his caste.
The man in question, Prelate Paladin Ch’vayre, enters the room, unwillingly causing uproar among the elite crowds attending the party. “By En Sabah Nur’s genes… it’s him,” an awestruck woman whispers. Her companion tells her to fear; she’ll handle him. Hearing them, a man remarks this won’t happen – nobody can handle Prelate Paladin Ch’vayre.
In a regal outfit, Ch’vayre looks around in unconcealed reprobation. Even without the empathic abilities of some of his peers, he can sense their thoughts. It is written plainly on their debauched faces. They do not care for him, any more than he does for them. These are times he wonders why he even bothers with this chattle.
A human woman hesitantly approaches him and suggests she offers him a moment’s alternative to his tortured thoughts. Ch’vayre brushes off the “gene-trash”: she can offer nothing to him. The woman hastens to clarify she meant no offense. She meant only to congratulate him on the anniversary of the extermination of the Askani sect. Ch’vayre sternly points out that his thoughts – tortured or otherwise – belong to him.
As do my failures, he thinks to himself. Therein lies the crux of his anger, doesn’t it? For all his claims of dedication to the Lord Apocalypse, En Sabah Nur, the truth is Ch’vayre failed him when Apocalypse needed him to smite the last of his enemies – when he led the assault on Askani Hold. And yet he could not. One man and one woman escaped. A small exception to total victory, he thought then. But one that has cost him dearly – for it prevented the total disintegration of Mother Askani’s hated fold. Somehow… someway… that couple manages to carry on the old woman’s teachings, allowing them to inspire the low-scans and frustrate his Lord and Master’s plan at their leisure…
A deafening roar is heard from outside the hall, accompanied by the display of a tremendous energy signature. The party guests are unnerved: it comes from the Master’s chamber! Some of them deduce they are under attack! It is the humans… it must be! They’re to be killed by flatscans!
Ch’vayre stresses that is impossible. In the name of the Apocalypse personified, he orders them to remain calm! Studying the faces of the guests, Ch’vayre is repulsed. To watch these pampered children of a sick and diseased aristocracy flee in terror! There was a time when Apocalypse’s vision of a world populated by the survival of the fittest, was just that. But that was before they became sloppy, fat and lazy. Before they were frightened by… the tantrum of a child?
Indeed, Ch’vayre has just walked to the source of the commotion and finds this was all the doing of a small boy – Stryfe. Vexed, Ch’vayre asks a servant woman, Magal, who is standing next to Stryfe, what happened here. What happened to the boy’s instructor? Frightened, Magal points at a charred skeleton on the floor and reveals that’s him. She tentatively asks if Stryfe cares to explain to his Lord Ch’vayre. “Explain? What is there to explain?” Stryfe snidely replies. His instructor told him to study, Stryfe told him “no” – end log.
Ch’vayre accentuates it is far from an “end log.” He has stressed this before – Stryfe cannot and must not randomly use his mutant power against anyone who displeases him! Stryfe wonders why. His instructor was just a low-lev. Not even a full mutation. Ch’vayre patiently explains that even low-levs have a right to live. The world according to Apocalypse speaks not only of “survival of the fittest,” but also that no source of mutation may be eliminated without the Holy Word. Stryfe has been blessed because he, above all others, has been chosen as Apocalypse’s successor… but he does not as yet have the right of extermination.
Stryfe retorts he doesn’t feel blessed – he feels bored. He asks Ch’vayre if he’s done. Pointing his finger at him, Ch’vayre replies he’s not, and he will most assuredly not be done, until he has pounded into Stryfe’s overly dense skull that…
“Yes. He’s done,” a weak, fragile voice is heard, terminating the issue – the High Lord Apocalypse himself. “You were saying, m’Lord Ch’vayre?” Stryfe arrogantly sneers at him. A topic for another time perhaps, Ch’vayre says, conceding defeat. “Perhaps,” Stryfe remarks. Apocalypse urges his son to come to him and share with him his day’s trials and travails. Stryfe admits there’s not much to speak of, really. Father knows how Ch’vayre gets all sentimentalized over the livestock. It’s really quite charming, in an archaic sort of way.
Apocalypse’s form emerges from his huge bio-armor – his current host body is that of a weak, withered old man. Apocalypse reaches down to hold his foster son’s hands. He asks Stryfe to be patient with Ch’vayre. He does not have their power, and therefore lacks their perspective. But he, Stryfe, his little lordling, he can already taste their destiny on his lips. He can already feel the hunger welling up inside him. Stryfe will know but the shadow of the embrace they shall one day know for the rest of eternity.
Reaching up for Apocalypse’s embrace, Stryfe urges his “father” to hold him – and teach him all the things only one who has lived through the centuries can teach. “In time, child,” Apocalypse promises and caresses the boy’s face with his gnarled hands. He urges little Stryfe to run along and find something to amuse himself. Incinerate another instructor if he must, but Apocalypse needs a moment alone with Ch’vayre.
Left alone with his foremost Prelate, Apocalypse notes that Ch’vayre doesn’t like Stryfe very much… does he? Ch’vayre readily replies that his likes or dislikes are unimportant. Apocalypse urges him to speak openly. It is one of the few aspects of their relationship he still enjoys. He enquires him of his feelings about the boy. Ch’vayre stresses that, as his Lord says, he is but a boy. He believes he should be allowed to grow up in his own time. By accelerating his mutant abilities, Apocalypse is going against every one of the laws of natural selection he has lived by since…
“Since forever it seems,” Apocalypse confesses. Ch’vayre is right of course… but Apocalypse is running out of time. Each new body he inhabits burns out sooner and sooner. The more powerful he has become, the less these pitiful vessels can maintain that power. But Stryfe is different. The genetic son of Scott Summers and Jean Grey’s clone has survived the Techno-Organic Virus to which he was exposed. He’s everything Apocalypse’s ever wanted him to be. He is the personification of the tenet of survival of the fittest – and they will survive, he stresses. I will survive, Apocalypse emphasizes as he pensively walks out of the room. But at what cost my lord? Ch’vayre ponders in worry. Is Apocalypse prepared to stand back and nurture the child, as his Empire falls around him? What’s more… is Ch’vayre himself to just sit back and let it happen?
At the gates to the city of Coastcrest, Nate finds it hyperbolic. He doesn’t understand how Redd can use her mind to change the way he looks? Amazed to see his metallic arm – a result of his infection with the Techno-Organic Virus – appear as a normal human arm, courtesy of Jean’s illusion-making, he notes it doesn’t even hurt much anymore. As Jean has said before, it’s biorhythms. So long as they touch, she can help him control his physical appearance long enough to get them past the city’s vanguard.
Still excited about his superficially normal arm, Nathan wonders if what she said is true. That someday he’ll be able to control his body himself, so he can pass for normal all the time. Scott assures him that he can aim his sights a lot higher than “normal.” Jean agrees with “Slym.” It’s necessary for Nate to disguise himself because there are many people who fear and hate what they don’t. But she promises there will come a day, when Nathan will be accepted – respected – for who and what he is. Unsatisfied with her answer, Nathan wonders how he will know when. Jean shushes him. Speaking into his head, she tells him to save question three thousand and three for after dinner. Nate remarks it is so rage when she talks into his brain.
Scott, Jean, Nathan and their mule approach the entrance to the city. Upon seeing them, one of the vanguards named Bolt derisively notices these humans are worse than the Lemmings – they never stop. One after the other after the other… Bolt’s fellow vanguard chastises him for being rude. The humans are just doing as they’ve been commanded by the Lord High Apocalypse. They can’t allow the Homo inferior free reign of the planet…
The vanguard curtly welcomes the travelers to the proud city of Crestcoast. “Bright morrow, vanguards,” Scott returns the greeting. He claims it is an honor and privilege to return to the city of his birth. The vanguard is certain it is a pleasure to have him back. He asks for the credentials of Scott’s units. Right here, sir, Scott replies and readily hands him a card with the data: “Clan Dayspring, and one adoptee.” The guard asks him to give it him; he’ll scan it himself. As he takes it, he smashes it with his fist. “Oops,” he ironically exclaims – apparently, he doesn’t know his own strength.
Jean is shocked and telepathically addresses Scott. Cyclops doesn’t know – but he knows that without referents they’re so much gene fodder! He doubts the remains of the Clan Askani could help then. Now confronting the vanguard who destroyed their credentials, Scott politely asks him how they may enter the city without their papers.
Another vanguard, a blue-skinned, yellow-eyed mutant named Marl snaps and punches Scott. He argues that it’s not a human’s place to question one of mutant blood! The human should not think that just because they have been cast among the refuse, that they are refuse themselves! The vanguard who ruined the credentials finds it an honest enough mistake on the human’s part. The human assumes that anyone assigned to a rear water outpost must be the last of Apocalypse’s honor guard. He thinks they’re stupid. He incites Marl to hit him again – show him how stupid they are.
Nate rages and makes for joining the battle and defending Cyclops. Jean barely holds from cutting in: “Nate, please…” “Please not!” Nate snaps. Nobody slams Slym while he’s around! The vanguard advises the boy to stay out of this. This is between the State and the boy’s guardians… who they suspect to be enemies of Apocalypse. “On what grounds?” Cyclops demands. He claims they have nothing but respect for their genetic overlord.
“These people are liars!” a man caterwauls, joining the ruckus – the same man who had briefly talked with Scott outside the city. The man reveals he heard them speaking Old Englishe in the trail. They would not do so unless they had something to hide!
Marl remarks this sounds suspicious to him. He gleefully suggests they hit him again! Not just yet, the vanguard who destroyed the credentials replies. He suggests they hear what the human has to say for himself. Bolt cruelly notices that the flatscan couldn’t have come at a better time. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity to transfer out of this dump. If the human tells them what he’s hiding, they’ll be their Lord’s favorite gene line.
Scott contemplates that if his main concern wasn’t protecting Nathan, he’d show this yutz exactly what he’s hiding. Instead, pretending to be scared, he tells them this is all easily explained. His mate was raised by the Clan Askani as a servant. He assures them she never believed their tenets. But she is more comfortable speaking…
“Try again, flatscan!” Bolt retorts, unconvinced, beating him with a bottle. Marl notes that the Askani is long gone and they never spoke garble-glik – did they? The third vanguard replies they may have – but he hasn’t the slightest idea. He proposes they at least take the whole unit before Paladin Ch’vayre and see what he has to say. Smirking maliciously, Bolt suggests they see what’s left of the unit after they’re done with it! The telltale suggests they do that after he receives his award, no? “Reward, eh?” Bolt consider it for a moment. He never much liked turncoats but…
Nate acts without thinking, on pure impulse. Lunging at Bolt, he grabs his left leg and bites him hard. He demands he leave them alone! Aghast, Bolt screams that he bit him! This nothing mutt halfscan bit him! Nathan warns him that was nothing! Now, is he going to let them by, or…
Enraged, Bolt whacks Nate off of him and sends him flying. Nate lands in the arms of Cyclops: “Go limp, son… I have you,” Scott psionically tells him. Nate is puzzled by the word “son.” Scott reveals it’s an archaic term – he’ll explain it someday. For now, he has a more valuable lesson he needs to administer. His eyes fizzling with energy, the angry Cyclops gives them one last opportunity to let them pass – now.
“Not on your filthy lives,” the unnamed vanguard perseveres, unrelenting. Their unit is clearly their transit out of this dump. The Lord’s science staff will spend weeks at the dissection table, while the vanguard and his friends will soft-spot an assignment in the royal foyer! Cyclops wonders what he is talking about. What possible interest would they hold for scientists? “Because of him… de boy!” Bolt gleefully clarifies, pointing at Nathan and his now-exposed metallic arm. Nate apologizes to Scott for this. Scott tells him there’s no problem… they’ll be out of here in a moment.
Seeing his fellow vanguard charging up with energy, Marl is excited to see powers in use – they never use powers anymore! The vanguard tells Scott that, bad assignment or not, he and his companions are still their genetic superior. Which means there’s nothing they can do to prevent them from wresting the child from Scott’s cold, lifeless fingers. Having an epiphany, Bolt wonders whether by the looks of him, the little mutt is a mutant as well. Now prepared to use his powers to engage the guards, Scott asks Nathan to stand back. Jean adds they’ll only be a moment.
“Sssssooner actually, if I havvvvve my way…” they all hear a sibilant voice. Recognizing the voice, the guards gawk in horror, their mouths agape. It’s him – Prior Turrin! The man in question approaches – a hybrid of flesh and machine, a man inextricably merged in a symbiosis with technology, wires and other paraphernalia sprouting from several parts of her body, the lower half of it comprised solely of wheels, his left arm resembling a giant bazooka. Literally, a man on wheels. Well met, vanguard, the techno-organic man exclaims – is there a problem? It is immediately clear to everyone present that despite Turrin’s soft voice and genial manner, this is an extremely dangerous entity.
The vanguards hasten to claim there is no problem; no problem that they now of; “problem” is too strong a word. Incredulous, the man who snitched Scott and Jean wonders what exactly the guards are afraid of. They’re of mutant caste, are they not? And this one is a human – barely. One of the guards rebukes him: surely even he has heard of Prior Turrin! The snitch is in disbelief: this…. thing… is Prior Turrin? But according to the holo-grids, he was presumed dead at the raid of Everfields… nearly three years past! How is it possible that he is here now?
“Me…? I attribute it to clean living…” Turrin scoffs. Addressing Nathan, he tells him to come. Unnerved, Nate turns to his Scott and Jean for confirmation. Scott psionically questions Jean, who notes that Turrin may look horrific, but she senses genuine concern for Nate – awe, actually. Relieved, Scott tells Nate it’s all right… he thinks Turrin is a friend of theirs. In the background, the snitch still argues with the guards about Turrin: what is wrong with them? Turrin is a convicted anarchist! Bolt affirms this – but Turrin is also the only endurable part of this whole city.
Turrin grabs Nathan, examining the boy for the guards. He concludes it’s a boy burdened by prosthetics – metal, not even synthetics, as Turrin’s. Hardly a reason for the guards to disturb Ch’vayre, he thinks. Why call attention to themselves and upset the status quo? Bolt grumps it’d be a download if they had no more Y chromes. The third guard admits that Turrin had always kept them maxed on the amenities. If they annoyed Apocalypse for no reason… The snitch can’t believe this! Turrin is blackmailing them?! Does he intimidate them by threatening to cut off their party supplies?! The guard retorts that he doesn’t know what it’s like to be posted to this festering pit. Prior Turrin could make it a lot worse if he could. He gives Scott, Jean and Nathan his apologies and opening the gate, welcomes them to Crestcoast.
Livid, the snitch refuses to accept this! He vows to take this matter directly to Apocalypse himself! For years now, there have been rumors of survivors of the massacre at the Askani Hold – of mutant traitors cloaked in the form of humans! Isn’t it crystal that this unit is…? The guard counters that he cannot conceive a reason why anyone would deliberately subject themselves to life within these city walls. Any more than he can picture a less threatening trio that unit Dayspring.
Turning to Turrin, the guard asks him what he and his colleagues should do about their powers, now that they’ve been primed? Turrin urges him to improvise and escorts the Dayspring unit into the city. Still carried by Turrin, Nathan watches as one of the guards spends his powers on slaying the snitch. There will be many sights such as these over the years. Nathan will count countless acts of cruelty, savagery and barbarism. Sometimes in the name of authority, sometimes on behalf of a cause. But more often than not, it will be as it is today – senseless. “G’journey, traveler,” Nathan wishes the now murdered snitch – whenever he winds up.
Inside the city, Cyclops thanks Turrin for his assistance. He must confess, there were not aware there were places where humans such as themselves lay claim to any power and influence. Turrin remarks it’s like a cadaver ruling the morgue. Crestcoast was once a major city. Now it is a tomb, where the walking dead come to die. Yet… it serves purpose.
Jean informs Turrin they forwarded a cargo several weeks ago. Turrin assures her it arrived unmolested. They will discover they are quite… efficient in all matters. “Such of disposing of that fellow traveler?” Scott dares to suggest. Wasn’t that a bit… excessive? Not when they consider what would have become of the boy had he been turned over to Ch’vayre, Turrin replies. They are at war here, for not only their future, but that of the entire planet. Sometimes, they are called on to make difficult choices, lest they be made for them. Or had the Dayspring unit not noticed Turrin’s friends? Pointing at the citizens of Crestcoast, Turrin stresses this is a dark world in which they live, and will remain so until someone arrived to lead them to a better place. Until someone can offer them hope.
Scott, Jean and Nathan glare at the wretched, hapless people of the city. Though these battered, broken, disillusioned, disenfranchised, hopeless and forgotten humans and synthcons and low-grade mutants cannot know it yet, hope has arrived.


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Provide a full summary of the comic book.

[Assistant]
Through The Years
Two thousand years ago, Jean Grey, as Professor Xavier’s first student, was taught how to control her mutant power of telepathy. Two hundred decades later, she is passing on a similar set of lessons to a young boy who is her son in every way that truly matters – Nathan Summers, here known as Nathan Dayspring. The endeavor is not without its share of frustrations.
Training the boy, Jean patiently asks him to try it – again. Addressing her as “Redd” – Jean’s alias in this timeline – Nathan retorts it’s hard. He can’t. Jean shushes him and urges him to concentrate. Again. Nathan wonders why she can’t do it for him… like she always does. She’s better at disguising him than Nathan himself is. Jean gives two reasons: A) she’s not without him twenty-four hours a day, and B) he is fully capable of using his own mind to morph his body.
Nate’s face darkens. So that what? That the happy little Dayspring unit can keep passing for humans? So that he doesn’t embarrass his adopted parents? So they can keep moving from city to town to country to city, just to keep one step ahead of Apocalypse’s stage doggie, Ch’vayre? Jean points out that whether someone else calls you a “mutant” or “human” or a “red fish, blue fish, green fish, new fish,” nothing changes what you are on the inside. Nathan wonders what that is. What is he… on the inside?
Jean wonders to herself how she answers that. How does he tell Nathan he is destined to grow into the man called Cable? How does she explain he’ll have to spend the rest of his life leading a rebellion against Apocalypse; making one difficult choice after the next; constantly sacrificing his own personal happiness on behalf of a dream which began in the mind of Charles Xavier long before Nathan Christopher Summers was ever born? How does she say these things without revealing that Redd and Slym Dayspring are actually his parents, Scott and Jean Summers? The answers are obvious – she can’t. She doesn’t dare.
Now speaking to Nathan, she reminds him they’ve explained this to him before. So long as Apocalypse is looking for them, it’s necessary that they hide among… “Why doesn’t he hide from us?!” Nathan impatiently interrupts her. Why don’t go after him instead? Jean admits that someday they may. But for today… For today, I have to pretend I’m not a freak, Nathan bitterly interjects. Something more… something less than human.
Jean realizes that those sessions take more out of Nathan than he admits. Poor kid is exhausted. She tells him to come here and listen closely. Nathan yawns and complies. Jean assures him that no matter what happens to him in his life, the way he looks, the choices he gets called to make, the times he feels so alone he’s sure he’s the only person who has ever felt the way he feels at the moment, he should know he’s not a freak. He should always know there are people who care for him. Who believe in him. Who love him. Today… tomorrow… and yesterday.
As Nathan buries his face in her neck and Jean hugs him tightly, she contemplates how long it has been eight years since she and Scott were psionically yanked into this era. Through all the running, the hiding, the deceptions… she wouldn’t have traded a single moment.
Several miles away, in what was once the heart of this great city, tortured screams echo through the heart of the Citadel Apocalypse. And once again, as he has so many times in recent days, the man called Prelate Ch’vayre stands as silent witness to what he believes in his heart of hearts to be the death of a dynasty.
Nonetheless, Ch’vayre remains in place, silently watching the tortures inflicted on various humans by the sadistic Stryfe, the foster son and heir of Apocalypse. “Enough playing with your toys, Stryfe,” Apocalypse, currently possessing a decrepit, aged body, tells him. He urges Stryfe to share with them the latest manifestation of his psionic powers. Stryfe nods. Holding an abject, undernourished human slave by his hair, Stryfe asks him if he wants to live. The man stutters he does. Stryfe retorts he is not convinced.
Ch’vayre can barely conceal his disgust. Is this what Apocalypse’s goal for survival of the fittest has come to? In pain and suffering and cruelty… the slaughter of innocents for no other reason than amusement… all that their “master race” of Homo superior has to offer the rest of the world?
After killing the slave, a grinning Stryfe admits that was fun – but he laments the man didn’t even scream first. He hates it when they don’t scream. Apocalypse heartens him: he shouldn’t downplay his achievements. Every day his mutant abilities grow stronger. Soon he will be Apocalypse’s equal, as well as heir to the world which is his legacy. “G’morrow, child,” he bids him farewell for the day. Stryfe returns the greeting, as he leaves the room.
Ch’vayre addresses his Lord: “Sire?” Apocalypse sighs and asks Ch’vayre what it is. Ch’vayre clarifies it is about the boy – again. He feels he must point out, that by Apocalypse’s own “laws of natural selection,” by accelerating the boy’s mutant ability as he has, he is not only robbing Stryfe of his childhood, but he runs the risk of destroying any hope he might grow to become a…
Incensed, Apocalypse slams him against the wall. “Childhood?!” What cares he for this boy’s childhood?! Some two thousand years ago, he infected this boy with a Techno-Organic Virus, simply because he needed him to survive it… to prove he was worthy one day to serve as a vessel for his ageless power! Techno-Organic?! Ch’vayre muses, as he makes a connection in his mind – like the diseased, ravaged boy of the child from the Askani Hold?
Apocalypse explains that the boy’s sister, Rachel Summers and her accursed “Clan Askani” robbed him of ultimate victory then, taking the baby from his grasp. It was good fortune, indeed, that he learned the boy had been time-switched to this era. He destroyed the Askani, breaking the long peace, for their arrogance… and held him in his arms at last! But still, his enemies, the rebels, are everywhere. The battle is not over yet! Does Ch’vayre truly believe Apocalypse cares, for a moment, about the moment’s childhood? Ch’vayre should concern himself with stopping those who would rise against Apocalypse…
In the streets of the city of Coastcrest, Cyclops/ Slym is discussing with Prior Turrin. All Scott’s saying is that they need a clear idea as to what it is they hope to accomplish on this night’s raid. In his soft, sibilant voice, Turrin wonders why that is – because Slym feels too much blood has been lost of late? Perhaps he is right. Perhaps the time has come for someone else to take up the fight. Seeing Jean, he asks whether she will be joining them. Jean confirms that. She asks Turrin if she would excuse her and Slym for a moment. “Of course,” Turrin complies.
Jean psionically asks Scott if he’s up for a quick telepathic chat – husband to wife. Scott stresses they really should be going. They’re on a very tight timetable… Jean explains it’s about Nathan. Cyclops wonders what’s wrong. Isn’t his condition still in remission? He hasn’t noticed it getting…
Jean explains it’s nothing physical – it’s emotional. Nathan’s going through a tough time right now… and he needs his father to spend some time with him instead of running off on one secret raid after another, Scott completes her thoughts. You’d think that for someone who spent his entire youth in an orphanage, Scott would be a bit more sensitive to someone who’s going through the same feelings of confusion and alienation Scott went through when he first learned of his optic blasts. He resolves to go to Nathan now, explain to…
“Whoa, Scott…” Jean lets out an exclamation of surprise. She didn’t tell him this so he can start beating up on himself. Eight years notwithstanding, they’re both stumbling around in the dark here as far as parenting goes – but working together, they’ll pull this off. “Why don’t I doubt that?” Cyclops smiles and kisses her. He promises to talk to Nathan in the morning. In the morning, Jean repeats.
Turrin disapprovingly notices that for a unit unable to legally bond, they certainly spend a lot of time in a… perpetual clutch. Time which he suggests could be better spent in service to the rebellion. Jean wryly quips that if that’s Turrin’s way of saying she and Scott are on an endless honeymoon, he’s more accurate than he knows. Cyclops argues that, after five years, Turrin certainly can’t question their dedication to the battle to overthrow Apocalypse.
A fellow rebel, Skerrit, argues not all of them are as naïve as Turrin. He, for one, is curious as to why two tainted humans such as Slym and Redd are so interested in the affairs of those like them – who are not even allowed the opportunity to give birth to the favored caste, mutants. Jean assures him she’ll more than happy to explain the motivation of the Dayspring unit in detail after they return from this evening’s raid. Secretly watching this exchange from a tree, Nathan can’t believe it: Redd and Slym members of the Clan Rebellion?!
The rebels reach their destination within an hour. A series of forgotten tunnels woven throughout the very fabric of this once-thriving metropolis, provide the access they seek. It is here, among the labs of the Genetic Hierarchy, that the handful of people who would see the latest incarnation of Apocalypse brought to his knees, expect to find the means to free an entire world from his hundred-year reign of oppression.
After they infiltrate the area, Jean admits it felt like this was too much easy. Turrin remarks that it doesn’t surprise him. Arrogance has long been a trademark of their most despised overlord. A rebel named Siddard adds that, besides, this is a hardly secured area. Sub-sub-sub-subbasement. A synthetic being (or “synthcon”) known as Gyak informs Jean that Siddard is correct. This section has long been forgotten. Classification: low security area, the synthcon confirms. To anyone but you, Gyak, another rebel remarks. After all, Gyak is the only synthcon in the world that can use a maintenance console as a back door to the complex’s lab computers. Gyak clarifies that it is but one in a limited series. But for their purposes, it does possess the abilities necessary to accomplish the task.
An intricate hologram is generated before their eyes. “Filos of the High Ground!” Skerrit exclaims – what is that? Gyak explains it’s a bio-centric hologram showing rendering of degenerating deoxyribonucleic acid-helix, Homo-sapiens specific. It supposes a large portion of this complex is dedicated to the creation and execution of an airborne virus reengineered for the sole purpose of retarding production of human DNA polymerase which will result in species cessation or extinction.
Nathan is, of course, clandestinely watching everything from the shadows. His life functions are the ones that’ll be ceasing if Redd and Slym find out he followed them here! But from their expressions, it looks like they’ve just seen a ghost!
That is, indeed, the case. A terrified Jean telepathically inquires Scott if he realizes what this is. Cyclops affirms he recognizes it from Professor Xavier’s files. It looks like Stryfe’s Legacy Virus! Addressing Gyak, Jean asks him how far they are from turning this hypothetical disease into a reality.
Gyak admits he possesses inadequate information at this time to venture such an estimation. It is clear, however, that the only obstacle inhibiting the release of the virus at this time is the failure of the virus to differentiate between human and mutant DNA. Unleashing the virus in its current state would no doubt result in the complete decimation of all life on the planet Earth!
“Not all life, synthcon!” an aggressive voice snarls as someone destroys Gyak with a blast. Prelate Ch’vayre appears, accompanied by a few soldiers loyal to Apocalypse. Ch’vayre proclaims that, as it has been ordained since time immemorial, the strong will survive! One of the rebels realizes they’ve been… “Set-up? Yes, flatscans,” Ch’vayre growls. Indeed they have. They have grown overconfident after so many months of “victories.” Awash with fear and fury from his hiding place, Nathan realizes this is too rabid. They need his…
Suddenly, he realizes he can’t move! A woman’s voice speaks in his head: “Nathan, stay.”
Below, the fight has begun. One of Apocalypse’s soldiers launches an attack against Skerrit. He’s long believed her master was too generous just by allowing them humans to live at all! Skerrit looks up, only to see Jean joining the fight. Jean tells him she’s got the soldier. Wounding her foe, she quips they can show him they can be at least as generous as his master.
Skerrit is chagrined to see she again merely wounded one of them! Once… just once… he’d like to see her kill one of these mutated aberrations! Jean points out that the day they stop showing compassion for their enemy is the day they become the enemy. Of course, she secretly wonders what Skerrit would say if he knew both Scott and she are “the enemy”… that they are mutant themselves.
“What fools these… another day, another insurrection,” Stryfe puffs with disdain as he comes up from the shadows. Two of the rebels – Siddard and the unnamed man – are dead by Stryfe’s psionic powers before they even register the boy’s presence. With a sadistic smile, Stryfe announces that, despite Ch’vayre’s orders to take these people alive, he’d like this to be over quickly – and the remains of the rebels sent to his father, Lord En Sabah Nur, He who is the Apocalypse… one extremity at a time.
Turrin orders his comrades to fall back. He will seek to put some debris between them and their attackers. Cyclops sets out to do precisely that and releases his optic blasts on the roof ahead of them. He orders Skerrit and Jean to set the explosives. If nothing else is accomplished today, they’re going to destroy this complex! Seeing this, Skerrit is taken aback: is Slym one of them?! A mutant?! He doesn’t get it! Scott argues now is not the time to discuss it. Suffice it to say that not every mutant subscribes to Apocalypse’s racism.
From a distance, Ch’vayre calculates his next move. The rebels thought they were clever, barricading themselves farther into the complex. He has the torch-cannons ordered from above before they cause any more damage. Right away, sir, one of his men replies and promises the rebels won’t escape them this time.
Meanwhile, Cyclops continues his relentless attack with his blasts. Turrin wittily notices that Slym possesses quite the penetrating stare. Scott explains it’s called an “optic blast.” They never told him about their powers because they believed Turrin and the others would be safer if they didn’t know the truth. Turrin asks what that truth is, exactly. Scott replies they have a common enemy, even if it is for entirely different reasons.
Further from there, Ch’vayre chides Stryfe. He stresses that this is the very reason one does not go about killing in random. Had Stryfe not slaughtered the rebels’ comrades so savagely, they might have managed to corral them before they panicked. Not genuinely remorseful or apologetic, Stryfe asks him to forgive his boyish enthusiasm. His attention has already shifted to one of Apocalypse’s heavily wounded soldiers, laid on the floor. Scared, the soldier asks him what he’s looking at. Smiling sardonically, the young Lord confesses he was just thinking – once you’re already wounded, why not die anyway? He tends his hand to him.
Far above, Nathan is at computer console, when he hears the soldier’s dying scream from below. The woman telepathically implores him to forget the screams below him and concentrate on the console before him. Nate exclaims this is crazy… he doesn’t understand the first thing about ‘puters. The woman tells him to relax and open his mind to her. She will tell him all he needs to know. Nathan wonders if she will have to brainside him to do it. She gives her apologies: she has no time to be subtle. Nathan grumps that once she gets the chance, she has a lot of explaining to do…
He suddenly remains in awe, as, per the woman’s telepathic information, he generates a holographic overview of the whole complex. His benefactress shushes him. There is still more he must do.
Below, Stryfe catches a light from above. It looks like somebody is somewhere they shouldn’t be. He asks Ch’vayre to excuse him for a moment. “With all due haste, M’Lord,” Ch’vayre excuses him. Turning to the rest of his soldiers, he demands to know what is keeping those torch cannons! Even with the complex surrounded, there is always the chance they might escape, let alone the damage they could cause if…
“Trust me, Ch’vayre, if “escape” was our goal, we’d have been long gone!” Jean defiantly states as she turns up through the soldiers’ blasts, together with Cyclops. Ch’vayre is surprised: the rebels are taking the fight to them! He is even more surprised to recognize the man and the woman from the Askani Hold! “Redd” and “Slym,” please, Jean audaciously corrects him. Scott telepathically urges her to keep Ch’vayre angry until the others finish their work. Jean assures him she will do that – but if they die here and now, before they get to see their son and daughter again, she’s going to be fairly angry herself!
Above, Nathan muses that he almost understands what he did to those ‘puters. “Excuse me,” Stryfe intervenes and forcefully pulls him around. He knows everybody who serves his father and this boy is not one of them! Nathan realizes this must be Apocalypse’s offspring! Which means of his surviving this… “Just dropped considerably? True,” Stryfe hisses. Surprised, Nathan realizes Stryfe just read his mind! But more than that, it was like he was… thinking the same thoughts as him. How is that…
“Possible?!” both boys scream in unison. Clenching his teeth, Stryfe exclaims it’s not… it’s not possible. There is only one Stryfe… one heir to the throne of Apocalypse. There is only one Chaos Bringer! Nathan admits it’s true; he assures him being the Chaos Bringer was never one of his life goals! He is unnerved: if not for the hair and his diseased body… There is a certain similarity between them, no? Stryfe finishes his thought. “To your eternal misfortune, Nate,” he tells him. For he cannot bear to be anything less than… unique.
Raising him in the air, he begins psionically taking him part. Oddly, he can almost feel the pain he’s inflicting Nathan. Nate’s mysterious aide telepathically instructs him to concentrate. Stryfe is startled by this telepathic intervention. The woman instructs Nathan to allow all the power that is yours to command to flow through him. Pure; uncontrolled; unbidden. She tells him to look upon this and know: there is more to the psionic ability he possesses than even those who know him might best suspect. Following her advice, Nathan lets the psionic power cut loose and gush out of him, rendering Stryfe unconscious.
Nate collapses to the ground, his infected arm morphing uncontrollably, liquid and unstable, much like his infected face. He agonizes: what is happening to him?! The lady in his head urges him not to fear what he is; what he became when he was infected with the Transmode Virus. Given time, his powers will develop naturally, his body and mind will be as one, and he will have no peer throughout the universe! Until that day comes, he should relax, and know she is here for him…
Below, Ch’vayre grunts that the rebels have caused enough trouble this day. He tells his men to find Lord Stryfe and fall back. He wants this entire complex leveled within the hour. One of his men asks what will happen about the research; the virus. Ch’vayre retorts that will be his responsibility. Watching Scott and Jean in action, he concludes these two are clearly mutants; why would they dare oppose him? Jean replies it’s a freedom thing; he wouldn’t understand.
Cyclops telepathically alerts Jean this isn’t like it was with the X-Men. They can’t both afford the risk of losing their lives in battle – they have Nate to worry about. Which means one of them – Jean – has to leave now before it’s too late. Jean replies that, as much as she appreciates the sentiments, as antiquated as they are, she just got the psionic signal from Turrin. Scott asks her if they’re ready to bolt. Sooner than later, she replies – Turrin says they have twenty seconds to get clear.
Mathus, one of Ch’vayre’s men, returns with the unconscious Stryfe in his arms. Shocked, Ch’vayre asks him what happened to the boy. Is he…? Mathus puts him at ease: alas, no. Stryfe is wounded somehow. He will recover soon. Ch’vayre orders him to bring him here – he will take him directly to the citadel. He commands Mathus to see that none of the rebels leaves here alive!
As she telekinetically lifts herself and the others in the air and begins escaping, Jean notices Stryfe. Surprised, she alerts Scott: that boy…?! Cyclops deduces this must be Nate’s clone – the one Rachel told them about. But they…
“’Tention, Redd!” Nathan shouts at Jean as she passes him by, telekinetically flying in the air. Jean is surprised to see him here! Nathan banters: if she’s leaving already, can he grab a ride?
Seconds after the rebels evacuate the base, the complex goes off in an explosion of phantasmagorical proportions. Turrin argues they have accomplished much this day. Though in the future, they might want to calculate a wider margin for error. Skerrit wants to know how the complex blew up that high. That was quite an explosion – more than the explosives they set. Nate tentatively suggests that was him – he guesses. Carrying Nate in her arms, Jean asks him what he did. As near as Nate can tell, he progged the ‘puters to self-destruct the place, top to bottom.
As they all land on solid ground, Skerrit admits that, at this point, nothing Daysprings do surprises him! Scott wonders how it was possible for Nate to do that – aside from the fact he shouldn’t even be here. Humans have been banned from high-end tech for years. He doesn’t think Nate ever touched a computer before today. Nathan fears they’re going to think he’s crazy, but explains he… had help. She showed him how to do it. “She…?” Jean questions. The lady in my head, Nathan explains. The voice he hears sometimes. Her name is Rachel.
Later, while the streets of Crestcoast are filled with the muted sounds of celebration, Scott steals a moment away in a quiet, secret place. He enters the place where Rachel is being kept. For the past eight years, he and Jean assumed Rachel was in an irreversible coma, totally shut off from the outside world. He should’ve known Rachel would never accept that. He thanks her, not only for what she did today, but for bringing them here in the first place. For bringing them all together as a family. He thanks her… and he’s sorry. Sorry he never treated her much like a daughter when he had the chance. He just wanted her to know how very proud he is to have been her father. He tenderly caresses her face. In case he never made it clear for her before, he loves her.
At that very moment, across the city, another man – Ch’vayre – is coming to a realization of an entirely different sort. He can no longer pretend not to see what his eyes have witnessed, nor ignore that which his heart knows is true. His entire life, he shared the same goals. He made himself believe what Apocalypse always claimed to profess: that the true strength of Homo superior, the reason for our vaunted position in the world, lies in the compassion and understanding of all life forms. But seeing Stryfe in action today, it is clear Apocalypse has a different definition of strength.
Any semblance of humanity is being extinguished from the boy’s soul, so that he might serve as an empty vessel for all that is dark and vile about their “Master.” While he accepts that it is too late to save the boy that Stryfe might have been, it is not too late to save the countless millions of innocents of every race who will suffer and die if the boy lives to become… the Chaos Bringer.