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The Once and Future Juggernaut, epilogue: Enough
Flashbacks
Once upon a time there was a demon who wanted the world of man to worship him. The demon was called Cyttorak.
Once upon a time there was a man who wanted no oine to be able to hurt him again. The man was  Cain Marko.
Once upon a time there was a mutant who wanted to save everybody he cared about. His name was Colossus, and he once saved his sister from being run down by a tractor.
Once upon a time there was a teacher who wanted to create a world without hate and fear. That teacher was Professor Charles Xavier.
The demon didn't know who to demonstrate his love for humanity, so he showed them his power though magic, destruction and chaos. He was battled by Xun and Li Park.
The man was healous of his brother's power and sought power of his own.
The young mutant was taught the idea that if he could save the world, then he could save his loved ones.
The teacher was forced to make hard choices as the world turned against his people with hateful protestors and dangerous robots.
The demon's avatars could not convince humanity of Cyttorak's love, however and he grew restless, and fought Thor and the Juggernaut.
The man found power through the demon and for a time, no one was able to hurt him, not even the X-Men.
The mutant joined the teacher but lost those he cared for most.
The teacher recruited children to fight his battles for him, asking them to sacrifice everything for their dream, some of them even their lives.
In the end, chaos and destruction were not enough for the demon.
In the end, the man was unstoppable, and it was not enough.
In the end, the mutant sacrificed everything...and it was not enough.
In the end, the teacher died, murdered by one of his own students...his dream was not enough.
Present
Southeast Asia, 'This... could have gone better' Piotr “Colossus” Rasputin thinks to himself as he tries to push back the recently returned Juggernaut – Cain Marko. Colossus grits his teeth and tells Cain that he has to stop this. Suddenly, there is a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder. 'You heard him. Step away from Colossus or we will make you' Ororo “Storm” Munroe declares, blanked by Bobby “Iceman” Drake, Jean-Paul Beaubier a.k.a. Northstar, Angelica Jones a.k.a. Firestar, Kurt “Nightcrawler” Wagner, Megan Gwynn a.k.a. Pixie, Rachel Grey and Santo Vaccaro a.k.a. Rockslide.
The Juggernaut steps back from Colossus, who tells Cain that he doesn't know what Cyttorak said to him, or what he offered him, but that he doesn't need it. 'He gave me exactly what you asked for... power' Cain replies. 'More power than he's ever given anyone. Enough to kill even him' Cain boasts. 'Then why are you here?' Colossus enquires. Angry eyes are seen through the Juggernaut helmet and Cain announces that there is something he has to do first – he has to kill the man who murdered his brother. 'I'm gonna kill Cyclops' Juggernaut announces.
'Nicely done, Jean-Paul' Nightcrawler mutters, while Storm frowns. 'Oh, what? I saved your life by telling him, Kurt. Besides, he would have found out anyway' Northstar replies. 'This isn't you talking. This is Cyttorak' Colossus tells Juggernaut, adding that he is giving him what he wants. 'No' Juggernaut replies, adding that Charles Xavier was the only one who ever cared about him, that he gave him a second chance when no one else would. 'Cyclops murdered him. This isn't about what Cyttorak wants, it's about what I want'.
But Storm tells Cain that they all lament what happened to Charles, that they were his children, and they grieve for him just as Cain does. 'But we will not allow you to do this' she warns him. 'Then stop me' Colossus replies. 'So be it' Storm announces as she prepares to use her powers, until Colossus grabs her, 'Storm, no!' he exclaims. But Storm ignores him and instructs the X-Men to take the Juggernaut's helmet. Northstar speeds around the Juggernaut, while Firestar blasts microwave energy at the helmet. 'You had your chance, Marko, over and over and over. And over' Iceman points out as he encases the Juggernaut in a wave of ice, he then calls out 'Pixie, go!' The young mmutant hovers over the Juggernaut and using magical energy starts to wrench the helmet off of Juggernaut. 'This shouldn't hurt you... much! Sorry!' Pixie exclaims.
Pixie then asks the others if she is doing this right, when suddenly, there is a clicking noise, and Cain asks 'You want the helmet off? It's off'. The helmet vanishes, and Cain's transformed face stands before the X-Men. His skin is red with strange panels across the top of his head. 'Cain...' a wide-eyed Colossus gasps. Kurt turns to Rachel, who reports that she can't read him, that there is something blocking his mind. 'Mein Gott' Kurt utters. The helmet clicks back into place, as Cain boasts that every weakness he had is done. 'You want to stop me? You can't' he declares. Cain suddenly slams his fists into the ground, breaking up the land around the X-Men and sending them careening backwards as he booms 'I'M THE UNSTOPPABLE JUGGERNAUT!' Cain adds that all of the X-Men are on his list as they all let Xavier die. 'Marko...' a voice calls out. 'You' Cain narrows his eyes as he sees Colossus stand amongst the rubble before him. 'You want to put an end to Cyttorak, remember? An end to all this needless destruction' Colossus reminds Cain, suggesting he stop this now, otherwise he will. 'Says the man who stole my power. You really think that you're not on my list?' Cain asks. He declares that Colossus couldn't beat him before, and sure as hell can't beat him now. 'We shall see' Colossus replies as he narrows his eyes.
'My name is Piotr Nikolaievitch Rasputin. I am one of the strongest beings on this planet' Piotr thinks to himself as he moves forward and with a massive cracking noise as his fist connects with the Juggernaut's armor, 'I am Colossus!' he exclaims. He continues to punch the Juggernaut over and over, and recalls that he has faced Cain Marko many times in battle, and that many times he has lost – but not today he decides, as he slams his fists down against the Juggernaut once again. 'You done?' the Juggernaut asks as he stands as if nothing ever happened. Colossus decides that, upon reflection, he could be wrong, and maybe it is he who will get beaten to a pulp by the Juggernaut again today. 'I think I broke both my hands' Colossus admits, and realizes that this may have been a mistake. 'My turn' the Juggernaut calls out as he slams one fist against Colossus, sending him careening backwards across a massive forest. Colossus eventually comes to a stop, and believes that he has broken several ribs. He knows that Cain is different, he can feel it. Cain is stronger, if that is even possible.
Suddenly: 'You think I'm finished?' Juggernaut asks as a foot slams down, inches from Colossus's head. 'You've had this coming for a long time, you stupid, whining tin can' Cain tells Colossus. 'Every time we do this, you think you can beat me. After today, maybe you'll finally learn your lesson' Cain suggests. Colossus readies his fists, and knows that Can is right. He cannot beat him. But can die trying. 'I can die...' Colossus's thoughts trail off, while Cain rushes towards him, 'COME ON!' he shouts, and although Colossus's instinct is to fight, to match his strength against Juggernaut's, he steps aside and the Juggernaut lunges past him. 'I'm learning that my instincts are terrible' Piotr tells himself. He wonders what Logan would do, and realizes that Logan would cheat. The Juggernaut swipes at Colossus again, but the X-Man ducks and dodges his advances. 'FIGHT ME!' Juggernaut boom, slamming a fist into the ground, as Colossus jumps over him. 'I'm not fighting you' Colossus replies as he lands on the other side of Juggernaut and slams his fists into the ground – breaking it up. They were fighting on the edge of a cliff, and Juggernaut goes over the edge, as Colossus shouts 'I'm stopping you'.
Juggernaut starts to plummet towards the unknown, a massive distance off the cliff, he shouts for Colossus, who then starts to fall as well. 'I did it. I stopped him. Stopped him from hurting my friends. From hurting Ororo and Kurt and Rachel...I saved them' Colossus tells himself. He starts to close his eyes, deciding that if that required his life, then so be it. 'I meet my death with no regrets, with no...what the hell am I doing?' Colossus thinks to himself, opening his eyes suddenly, he reaches up and grabs the edge of the cliff. Colossus pulls himself up and lays on the grass. Upon even more self-reflection, he has come to the conclusion that this may not have been a “sacrifice my life for the greater good” situation. Upside down, he sees the X-Men standing over him and asks them how long they have been there. 'Long enough, little brother' Storm replies. 'I was coming to get you, but you know...you're very heavy' Nightcrawler remarks. Colossus sits up and Storm asks him if he feels better. 'Much' Colossus replies. 'Good' Storm gells him, adding that she was getting tired of being mad at him all the time. 'You know he's still down there, right?' she adds. Colossus replies that he does, and that when the Juggernaut digs himself out, he will find a way to stop him again. Storm adds that they should probably warn Cyclops. 'Probably' Colossus supposes, looking down over the cliff. Storm turns to the other X-Men and suggests they go home.
Once upon a time, there was a man. A man who got everything he wanted. In the end, he wasn't enough. In truth, it could never be enough. No amount of power could change who he was. It could never quench his thirst for power. He was now and forever the Juggernaut. And he would never stop. And as flames dart around the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, some of the rocks start to break up, as the Juggernaut's hand bursts free.


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Family History
Ororo Munroe aka Wonder Woman flies across the Mediterranean ocean. A moment ago, the sky was clear, the ocean calm, a mirrored glass. But even then, she knew the moment was illusion and that day would end in tragedy.
She tries to battle the sudden hurricane with her mutant powers but in vain. There is in every gust, in every flash of lightning, the hand and mind of a vengeful god. She falls into the freezing water. Ancient primal fear reaches out and, as if to torture her further, the moments before her defeat replay themselves before her eyes.
flashback:
The seagod Poseidon admits she has great power but not so great as his. All the powers of the ocean are at his command. Angrily, Ororo retorts he is facing an Amazon and no Amazon admits defeat until the last breath is crushed from her bones. She attacks with lightning. Angrily, he admits he underestimated her. A mistake he will not repeat.
The present:
Wonder Woman sinks further. Completely helpless, her mind is hurled back again to the origin of her fear: how as a young child she was drowning until somebody grabbed her arm and saved her.
But such thought and memory are swept away as she finds herself suddenly hurled from the chilly waters onto a dark and unfamiliar shore. She finds herself in a cavern lit by shimmering phosphor on the walls, a room full of ancient treasure and she realizes this is Poseidon’s throne room.
Meanwhile in Baton Rouge, Lousisana, in an old mansion:
A young African-American woman, Angelica, knocks at the door of Ororo’s apartment, asking if she is in there. Angelica’s mother tells her to leave it. She’s not at home. All the more reason to be concerned, Angelica believes. Her psychic flashes are almost never wrong. And something has been jabbing at her all day. She just knows Ororo is in some kind of trouble! She jimmies the lock, then hears someone moving in the bedroom. She enters to find a very bruised and beaten Diana of Themiscyra, stating she is not Ororo. As she faints, Diana asks for help.
Walking the throne room, Ororo wonders why Poseidon brought her here instead of killing her. She touches a small golden statue that seems strangely familiar.
Flashback:
A long time ago aboard a ship, Ororo and her parents admire the exquisite statue. Its owner, Professor Malcolm, explains to them it’s beautiful… and deadly. He is convinced it is the cause of all the tragedy that has stalked him since he brought it  from the seabed of the Mediterranean.
present::
Thief!  Poseidon shouts and accuses her of being a common scavenger. The treasure of another is but a trinket in her thieving grasp! Ororo knows not what he means. She reminds him he brought her here. If he has reason behind this madness, state it now or kill her and be done with it! He orders her not to add lies to her crimes. That her eye and hand were drawn so instinctively to that, of all his treasures, proves it was no accident that brought her to the vessel he destroyed so many years ago! Ororo remembers…
flashback::
Themiscyra:
 A teenage Diana and Ororo are angrily fighting. Diana shouts Ororo can’t beat her. She isn’t even a real Amazon! Enraged, Ororo shouts back that she is. Queen Hippolyta and General Phillipus drag the two girls apart and demand an explanation.
Ororo explains Diana said she isn’t a real Amazon or Hippolyta’s daughter. Diana fiercely adds that’s true. She came from outside! Hippolyta sighs that she would have preferred to deal with this much later. Phillipus agrees, but now they have to deal with it.
Hippolyta reveals that Diana spoke truth, though she should have found a kinder way to tell her. Perhaps the wisdom of Athena deserted her today. Diana looks ashamed. Hippolyta tells Ororo she came to them twelve years ago, rescued from the sinking of a mortal vessel.
Hippolyta’s narration:
The Amazons looked for the sunk vessel and Hippolyta sensed a small life crying out to her. She jumped into the ocean. Groping in the darkness, she found toddler Ororo. The Amazons revived her and noted there was great power in her body and strength of spirit. Hippolyta decided that here she would learn to use that power wisely.
They searched the water but found no other survivors. Their only clue to her identity was the bracelet on her wrist bearing the word ‘Ororo,’ which they took to be her name. Phillipus adds it means “beauty” in some of the African languages.
Present:
Ororo asks if Poseidon destroyed the ship that bore her parents and her. By his hands more than a thousand people perished, consumed by the cruel sea.
Uncaring, Poseidon admits it. Is he not a god? Are his needs not superior to those of a mortal? And does she still deny her part in this? Deny knowledge of the man who stole from him the mate of that statue that she know holds?
Flashback:
It was more than twenty-five years ago. An African-American scientist, Malcolm, searches the seabed after a recent earthquake and finds a load of treasures, among them the statue. He senses an aftershock and swims upward with the statue and back to the ship.
One of the sailors is nervous. Forty sailing years and he has never seen the sea like this. It’s like the waves are angry! Malcolm calls them crazy. It’s just an aftershock. The sailor tells him he is from America, a new country. These are ancient waters. The old gods still make their presence felt here. He shouldn’t mock what he doesn’t understand.
present:
Poseidon narrates that Malcolm escaped him that time but he set a curse on him.
Narration:
Malcolm moans it’s as if something has taken control of his life. As if every move he makes is twisted by some outside force. His colleague tells him it’s just a streak of bad luck. Angrily, Malcolm reminds him his wife left him, his father died, his funding has been cut off. And it’s not just the big things… it’s like his life has been divided into small segments and something has gone wrong with every single one. He decides he knows how to fix it. It started the day he brought this artifact from the floor of the Mediterranean. He’s going to take it back. He’s booked a passage on the Arabian Princess.
Sometime later, he tells his story to fellow passengers David and N’Dare Munroe. David is doubtful but Malcolm asks him what will he have lost if he’s wrong?
Suddenly, the ship lurches. A storm comes out of nowhere. They turn to see Poseidon, who calls him a thief. As long as he remained ashore, he could do nothing but now he is in his domain.
And the ship is shattered.
Present:
Is this some mad joke? Wonder Woman demands and calls him a foolish old god who has forgotten his place in the universe. Poseidon promises her a long and lingering death for that insolence. She is grabbed by magical tentacles meant to tear her apart. Angrily, she asks if this is how a god behaves. Furiously, he snaps that if she still has voice for effrontery. Does she not understand that her agony is but a fraction of what he can unleash upon her?
She groans then tells him he doesn’t understand. She calls him a fool. Once his race towered over all that lived as the most powerful beings on Earth. Theirs was the power over life and death. But, as the world progressed, as humans became more and more masters of their own world, they turned away from the gods. The tales of the gods’ lives, their exploits, had satisfied their need for knowledge only for a while. Other gods replaced them. Greater knowledge usurped them.
Now the only places mortals remember them at all is in museums and schools of antiquity. And when one man sought to rekindle in the mind of his fellows the memories of their deeds and works, in his pettiness and greed Poseidon saw him only as a thief and destroyed him. Her Amazon sisters and her still worship the gods of Olympus but for the rest of the world their time has passed. Humankind has moved away from them. It is not for her to say if that move was wise. But if this is how he treats the last few who have any respect for him at all…
Poseidon asks her to stop. Her words slice to the very center of his being. She is right. He is a foolish old god. He has let pettiness and greed shroud his mind. He releases her.
Just like that? Ororo asks. No penance paid, no punishment exacted for the slaughter of a thousand innocents? He says she is right but does he truly think so? How long before his temper flares again? How long before he forgets what she has told him in favor of more familiar patterns of thought?
That no one can say, Poseidon replies. Suffice that he has learned this day a bitter lesson. Suffice that she has had some small vengeance in being the instrument of his enlightenment.
Hardly enough, she tells him as she flies off. But if this is all she can take from this, she shall accept it. And hope the ghosts of her parents and a thousand others rest at least a little easier because of it!


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“Senior Year” Book One of Five: The Annunciation
A black car drives up to a farmhouse in the middle of the country. The vehicle’s sole occupant, a man dressed in black with a white collar, blesses himself in the name of the Holy Trinity and exits the car. While standing before the decrepit farmhouse, he offers a brief pray and asks for the conviction to do his good work.
A plain-looking farmwife answers the door. She tells the man, who towers over her diminutive figure, that he is right on time. He asks where the girl is, and after she tells him, he heads upstairs to see her. “Better stay down here till I’m through,” he tells the girl’s mother. She asks if there is something she could be doing to help. “Praying,” he says, “that the Lord Almighty forgive your sinful daughter.”
“Margaret? Mary Margaret?” he calls out as he reaches the top of the stairwell. A timid voice answers from one of the bedrooms. He opens the creaky door to see a small girl in a yellow dress cowering on a stool, alone in the dark. Blood stains her dress near her torso and ankles. The priest tells her not to be afraid; her mother sent him to help. Crossing the room, he asks to see Mary Margaret’s hands, and the frightened girl looks up with tears in her eyes. They won’t stop, she cries. They won’t stop bleeding. She presents her hands, both of which bear gaping, vertical slits.
“The stigmata. The wounds of Christ,” the man mutters. He asks when this began. Six months earlier, Mary Margaret says, when she first began having dreams of strange people: a boy who is a snowman, one with fire in his eyes, and another who has wings, like an angel…
Vermont…
Meanwhile, a lanky, teenage blond boy in a track uniform gracefully vaults over a high-bar and lands safely on a cushion. “Wow – and there he went, ladies and gentlemen! Man, that kid can fly!” the announcer shouts over the cheers of the crowd. Not only is this high-jump by Warren Worthington the Third easily the day’s best, he announces, but it is officially the new all-time high-jump record for the state of Vermont!  “Let’s hear it for Warren Worthington and the St. Joe’s Knights!” Warren stands and raises his fist victoriously in the air while the St. Joe’s cheerleaders rally the spectators.
While the St. Joe’s track team celebrates its victory in the locker room, the coach has a private chat with Warren in his office. Warren’s high-jump of seven feet, eight inches, is not just a Vermont record, Coach says; it’s an Olympic record. Warren’s response is nonchalant, at best. “Warren, it pains me to ask you this, but after what I just saw,” Coach begins, “on top of which, the last few weeks, I’ve noticed you getting faster on the track, getting stronger in the weight room…looks like you’re slimming down too. Getting leaner…” Warren finally interrupts his coach’s rambling and cuts to the obvious question: does Coach want to know if he is he taking steroids? “That’s what I’m asking, yes,” Coach replies. Warren vehemently denies the insinuation. He has been stepping it up a bit lately, but isn’t that what he, the team’s captain, is supposed to do?
 Coach tries to speak, but Warren cuts him off and continues ranting. Shouldn’t his coach be grateful about his performance instead of accusatory? After all, isn’t his yearly raise determined by his team’s performance? Coach takes offense to this insinuation. Despite what Warren may believe, he values the health of his athletes more than his salary. Warren, finished with this conversation, gets up and leaves. On his way out, he tells Coach to start worrying less about him and more about the rest of the team’s lackluster performance.
Of all the comments for his teammates to overhear, this last one is quite possibly the worst. Unfortunately, the track team happens to be standing right outside the office as Warren exits. They stare at him with betrayed looks on their faces. His teammate Brandon is especially hurt; Warren already upstaged him in the high-jump earlier that day, and now he hears him dismissing the entire team as inferior athletes. Warren tries to explain himself, but they don’t wait around to listen. He hangs his head as they walk away. Andrew, the towel boy, tries to cheer his friend up, but Warren demands he stop.
Sometime later, the entire student body of St. Joe’s Catholic School assembles in the chapel for Mass. While they sing a hymn, an attractive blond girl named Amanda turns around, signals to Andrew, and asks where Warren is. “How would I know?” he asks.
“You’re his sidekick, aren’t you?” she says.
“You’re his girlfriend--”
“Yeah, and obviously, that just kills you,” she snaps back. Father Reynolds overhears the two students whispering and reminds them to be silent. Their eyes return to their hymnbooks for a moment before the girl dares address Andrew again. “Way to get us in trouble, wuss,” Amanda says. “Now heed my words: if you see your roommate before I do, tell him he’s dead meat.”
Meanwhile, Warren, standing alone in the bathroom, takes a long, hard look at himself in the mirror while mentally composing a letter to his parents.
Dear Mom and Dad, greetings from pastoral St. Joseph’s Preparatory School for Wayward Boys (hah-hah),  the letter reads. Even though he speaks to his parents over the phone bi-weekly, what he has to say right now is too hard to do say in any form other than writing. Warren thinks he may be dying. His body is changing and he does not understand why. Despite maintaining his usual exercise regimen, he continues to lose weight. He figures this extra energy is going toward fueling his...change.
His body is stronger, faster, and more agile. In addition, mysterious bruises have appeared on his back, and despite his best efforts to hide them, they continue to grow and continue to hurt. He refuses to see the school nurse as he wants to keep his condition a secret, which brings him to why he is writing this letter.
 I want to come home, Mom and Dad. I want to deal with this at home, in secret. And I know what you’re gonna say, Dad: That I should be man enough to take care of this myself. That asking for help is weak and cowardly. But the deal is…I’m really, really scared, and I don’t know what to do. Please help me. Please send for me to come home.
Love, Your son, Warren Worthington the Third.
The autumn leaves fall to the ground and the wind blows, whipping Warren’s scarf through the air. Warren, dressed in his school uniform, stands in front of the campus mailbox, holding the letter to his parents in his hand. Although he desperately wants to send it, he cannot bring himself to drop it in the mailbox. He destroys the letter in his hand, walks to a nearby trashcan, and discards the crumpled fragments of his heartfelt cry to help.
The students shuffle out of the nearby chapel at this same moment. Andrew sees his forlorn roommate standing by himself in the distance and calls his name. Amanda, spotting Warren at the same moment, shoves Andrew out of her way as she descends the stairs. She catches up with Warren, who doesn’t seem very excited to see her. His unenthusiastic reaction does not go unnoticed. She asks why they haven’t spoken in so long, and why it feels like he is deliberately avoiding her. Amanda gets in Warren’s face while he struggles to come up with a suitable response.
From beneath a nearby tree, the track team observes Warren and Amanda fighting. Brandon remarks that Amanda should be his girlfriend instead of Warren’s. A teammate reminds Brandon he already has a cheerleader girlfriend; what’s the difference? “The difference is – Amanda’s hotter. And…” Brandon hesitates for a moment. “…And we both wanted her, okay? And she…she chose him. And that just galls me,” Brandon says. He is sick of Warren getting everything he wants. The same teammate has to remind Brandon he is the Vice-President’s son; he gets everything he wants too.
The farmhouse…
Mary Margaret continues to describe the angelic boy from her visions to the priest. He is blond, seventeen, and lives away from his parents in a place where the hills are green, she explains. The priest asks if there she has any other information. “He…he’s worthy,” Mary Margaret says. The priest doesn’t understand. “He’s worthy,” she repeats. “H-his name’s…Worthy.” The man thanks her, and tries to piece together the clues. A boy named “Worthy” who lives in a place with green hills...maybe she means Vermont.
He stands up and puts his hat back on his head, but Mary Margaret looks up and asks if he can help her hands stop bleeding. “Your hands. Of course I was,” he says, reaching into his jacket. “There must be no signs of his good work.” He tells the frightened child to close her eyes. Mary Margaret manages to ask what he is doing before a loud BLAMM! cuts through the otherwise silent night. Mary Margaret screams. Her mother runs upstairs and, upon seeing what has happened to her daughter, begins shouting hysterically at the man. She begs for mercy as the second gunshot rings out.
Warren Worthington III, meanwhile, wakes up from a nightmare. What a horrible, horrible dream, he says, sitting up in his bed. He curses the cancerous stumps on his back before glimpsing an unusual object lying in the center of his room. Picking up the long, white feather, Warren has just question on his mind: what is happening here?


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“Senior Year” Book Two of Five: Hell Night
Upstate Vermont. St. Joe’s prep. The girls’ dormitory…
If she does not want to get caught with a boy in her room, Warren Worthington III suggests his girlfriend Amanda keep her groans of ecstasy down to a whisper. The sultry Amanda sits up on her bed. Barely dressed, the arch of her back teases the limits of her open blouse, which lies dangerously close to the edge of her breasts. “No, I don’t want to get caught,” she says, “I want to get hot.” Warren removes his own shirt, and Amanda inches closer and flirtatiously runs her finger along the lines of his chest. However, she sees something alarming and backs away in revulsion. What is it? Warren asks, not understanding she has just glimpsed two swollen, bruised lumps on his back through their reflection in the mirror. “Warren,” she asks, “what are those things on your back?”
Warren insists it is nothing. He abruptly gets up and begins putting his clothes back on. Amanda, now covering herself with a blanket, asks if it is a sports injury. At first, Warren tells her not to worry about it, but then runs with the sports-injury excuse. “I fell the wrong way, scraped my back…” he begins, but Amanda cuts him off, insisting the lumps look nothing like scrapes. She asks if he has seen the nurse, or told his track coach. Still defensive, Warren once again says he is fine, and firmly tells her to drop it.
“Uh, why are you yelling? You’ve been acting all moody and surly, and now this,” she says. “What’s really going on, Warren?”
Amanda’s question is met with silence. Warren hangs his head in hesitation, looks up, and tells Amanda their time together is over. That’s what has been going on; that’s why he’s been acting weird. He was trying to think of a way to tell her. Amanda’s mouth hangs agape. While cradling a stuffed animal on her bed, she asks why? Why is he doing this?
“Because I’m tired of us. I’m tired of you. I need a change, babe,” he says. He walks out and slams the door. Amanda’s cries reverberate through the halls as Warren walks away, but he tells her to keep screaming, as if she actually has feelings. His demeanor changes as soon as he gets out of an earshot. That was low, even for me. As bad as Amanda can be, she doesn’t deserve what I just did, he thinks. However, he needs to hide what is happening to his body. As he storms off, his tie flaps over his shoulder, adding a peculiar-looking shape to his silhouette that almost resembles a budding wing…
Meanwhile, Warren’s roommate Andrew Palmer, juxtaposed against a large, stained-glass window that depicts a knight penetrating a dragon in the mouth with a spear, sweeps the chapel floor. Father Reynolds enters and asks Andrew if he has finished. “Y-yes,” Andrew says, wincing at the arrival of the priest. Good, Father Reynolds says, adding the time has come for Andrew’s weekly confession. Andrew looks at him with anxiety written on his face. He offers no verbal response. Hanging up his coat, the portly priest asks Andrew if he should interpret his silence as meaning he has no sins to confess; does he presume to be infallible, like God? “No, father,” Andrew replies. He hunches his shoulders and looks away in revulsion. “I just…not this week, please.”
Father Reynolds begins to roll up his sleeves. “I see.” As he approaches Andrew, the young man asks him not to be mad, but Father Reynolds insists he has nothing but love, compassion, and forgiveness for Andrew in his heart. He places a meaty hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m forgiving you the disrespect you’ve just shown me. Not every student at St. Joseph’s has me as his confessor. It is an honor, young man, and as such,” he says, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Andrew’s, “...I expect to see gratitude.” Andrew shudders, but acquiesces.
In the weight room, Brandon Hardy tells his spotter to add more weight to his bench press bar. Thompson refuses, as Brandon has already maxed out, but Brandon insists; he wants to get pumped for Hell Night. “Somebody’s got aggression they need to work out,” Amanda Cobb says, interrupting the athletes’ workout. “Maybe I can help with that?”
Thompson exits after Amanda requests a private conversation with Brandon. She asks if tonight will be a typical Hell Night, as in, dressing up and picking an underclassman to torment. Yes, Brandon replies. You want to partake? “Put on a mask and a scary black robe? No, thanks,” Amanda answers. “But after what Warren did to me, I know who you should target…”
Brandon pauses. What did Warren do to her, he asks? Amanda replies that Warren humiliated her by dumping her that morning. Brandon catches on to what she is suggesting, but misunderstands her target. He reminds her that, as a senior, Warren is off-limits for Hell Night, but Amanda has no intention of going after Warren; she wants to go after his little pal, Andrew Palmer. “Their families know each other,” she says, “so Warren is supposed to, you know, ‘look out for him.’ Doing something to Palmer would be like doing something to Warren…but way worse.” She takes a seat on the bleachers and leans back, seductively. Brandon leans in, places his arms on either side of her body, and asks what he will get in return. Amanda smirks. “Warren’s smarter than you…a better athlete…up until four hours ago, he had a hotter girlfriend…so long as he’s around, you’ll always be number two,” she says, before leaning in and whispering in his ear. “You want to know what you’ll get, Brandon?”
You’ll get satisfaction. At dusk, Warren catches up with his science teacher Mr. Walsh on the sidewalk. Walsh, lugging a large pumpkin, tells Warren it is a bad time; he needs to get home and take his daughter trick-or-treating. Warren flatly asks Mr. Walsh if he can identify a biological specimen, and presents him with the feather he found recently in his bedroom. Do you know where it came from, he asks? “A bird, I’m assuming…” Mr. Walsh says. Warren asks if he could be more specific. Mr. Walsh may not be an ornithologist, but he can tell outright the feather must support a bird of very large mass. Perhaps it belongs to a gull, an eagle, a hawk, or a falcon. The color, however, resembles that of a dove, a bird much too small for a feather of that size.
Mr. Walsh begins to excuse himself, but Warren has just one more question: can he recommend any good books on molting? “Molting? I shudder to ask,” Mr. Walsh says, scratching his head. “Yes, of course I can recommend some texts. But Warren, books about molting do not portend a fun Halloween night for you.”
After night falls, Brandon Hardy and his track-team cronies prepare themselves for Hell Night. Ever since Hell Night was first celebrated on St. Joseph’s campus in 1924, the underclassmen have lived in terror of it. They usually do what Andrew Palmer is doing right now: waiting in his room, praying he is not among the chosen. This year, his prayers go unanswered.
The masked bullies gather outside his room and open his door. He could have locked it, but it would have been futile; locked doors are forbidden on Hell Night, because what good is a locked door against such a tradition? Andrew asks who is there as the bullies enter his room, but they tell him to shut up. They promise he will suffer even more if he screams.
Meanwhile, one floor down, Warren pores over the recommended textbook on molting. He reads a passage about ‘blood feathers,’ active feathers that push out their forerunners during the molting process. Warren tosses the textbook aside in frustration; none of it makes any sense to him. Suddenly, he hears a muffled cry for help through his open window, and recognizes it as Andrew’s voice.
Above, in the communal bathrooms, the bullies reprimand Andrew for violating their command. “Stupid Palmer. Big mistake. What did I tell you about crying for help?” Brandon says while the other boys pin Andrew’s arms behind his back. He orders them to remove Andrew’s shirt and start warming up the showers; tonight, they’re boiling a shrimp.
Andrew begs for mercy. They ignore his pleas and blast his naked back with scalding, hot water. How does that feel, they ask? Does he feel his skin bubbling yet? Andrew manages to plead for them to relent between his anguished cries, but they continue to ignore him. They only pause when they hear a voice from behind ordering them to let him go.
They turn, and see Warren standing in the doorway. “Let. Him. Go. Now.” Brandon tells Warren to get lost; he doesn’t have to participate in Hell Night himself, but that does not mean he gets to ruin everyone else’s fun. Warren pauses before speaking. “Let him go, you sadist. Or I’ll make you let him go.” Brandon refuses to back down. He asks if Warren, the big hero, plans on fighting all of them. No, Warren responds. The way he sees it, he only has to take down Brandon, the group’s ringleader. “Hell Night’s not supposed to be lethal,” he adds.
After considering the threat, Brandon yields, telling his cronies to turn off the hot water. They release Brandon, whose scorched back continues to steam. Warren wraps his friend’s arm over his shoulder and begins to walk with him out of the room, but Brandon refuses to give up the last word. “There he is, Warren…there’s your boyfriend.” Warren stops in his tracks. He releases Andrew, turns, and punches Brandon across the face, knocking him to the floor.
Later…
Amanda, kneeling on Brandon’s bed in his room, expresses her shock at the story Brandon just told her. She can’t believe Warren actually hit him, the son of the Vice-President of the United States! Lying with his head facing the ceiling, Brandon states that Warren Worthington is a dead man; he just doesn’t know it yet.
Meanwhile, in Warren’s room, Andrew sits in a wooden chair without his chair while Warren examines his back. It’s blistering, he comments. Andrew finds the coincidence funny. Warren asks what exactly the funny coincidence is. “My back’s all messed up…” Andrew begins, “your back’s all messed up…” Warren stops him right there and asks what the hell he is talking about, and Andrew confesses he recovered the letter Warren wrote to his parents, but tore up and threw away in the trash; he knows what is happening to Warren’s body.


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Untitled
December twentieth…
Over the phone, Warren breaks the bad news to his parents: he will not be coming home for Christmas this year. His mother is absolutely devastated. Sitting in front of her vanity mirror and dressed in an ostentatious evening gown, she tells him his relatives will be oh-so disappointed.
On the other end of the line, Warren elaborates why he needs to stay home. With the big push for college admissions approaching, he needs to focus on his studies. Andrew, standing nearby, laughs out loud at this lie: Dartmouth, Yale, and Harvard would each kill to have Warren attend their universities. Warren asks him for some privacy.
Meanwhile, Warren’s father, putting the finishing touches on his evening tuxedo, applauds Warren’s decision. It’s about time Warren applied himself to his studies, he says before ordering his wife to put down the phone. Margaret tells her son she needs to go; she and his father have to go to some holiday fundraising event at the Lincoln Center, and she needs to make an entrance. Frustrated with his wife’s cavalier attitude toward punctuality, Warren Worthington II curses and orders her to put down the phone before he smashes it! Their son overhears this threat and tells his mom she should not let him treat her that way. She does not seem to mind. “Kisses and we love you,” she says.
“Keep smothering him like that and he’ll never amount to anything,” the elder Warren says. “If he wants to stay at school over Christmas break and get ahead, I say ‘Hallelujah’.” Click!
These parting words linger in Warren’s ears after the phone call ends. He hangs up, slumps over to Andrew, and laments his parents will never change. At least Warren’s parents remember he exists, Andrew says. When he called his house to tell his mom and stepdad he would be spending Christmas break at St. Joe’s, they had to ask who he even was! Warren concedes the point: Andrew’s family is much worse.
He once again thanks Andrew for offering to stay with him over Christmas break, and Andrew grows ecstatic. “Are you kidding?” he says, his face positively beaming. “Two weeks alone with yo--” Andrew catches himself right there, and modifies his word choice. “…two weeks alone on campus? That’s, like, a dream come true!” he says, brushing away the awkwardness. Besides, he owes Warren for saving him from Brandon and his track team cronies.
Brandon, meanwhile, stands outside the St. Joseph’s academy dormitories in the snow with Warren’s ex-girlfriend Amanda. His limousine waits nearby. Amanda asks why he is just standing there instead of leaving to catch his flight. “I didn’t see Worthington pack for break, Amanda, did you?” he asks. Amanda has to remind him that she and Warren have not been exactly close lately. Besides, she adds, this obsession with Warren is unhealthy. Brandon insists it is no mere obsession; something weird is happening to Warren. Something freaky. Amanda sighs and reminds him they can get revenge on Warren after break. For now, Brandon needs to leave, and his father’s secret service agents are getting restless waiting for him.
December twenty-second…
Andrew interrupts Warren, who sits in a daze at the dinner table. Warren apologizes for his inattentiveness. They discuss how empty campus has been since everyone took off; Warren has counted thirteen people total. It’s like an Agatha Christie novel, Andrew says. Abruptly, he changes the subject, and reminds Warren he still has not “shown” him. Warren claims he will soon, but Andrew refuses to let him off easy. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. When, did you say?” he asks, grinning. Warren shoots him a devious smile.
December twenty-third…
In the privacy of the vacant campus chapel, Andrew faces the wall and stares at his shadow. He begs Warren for permission to turn around, but Warren tells him to wait; he is still busy taking off the tape and bandages. “Man, I can’t believe you’ve been doing that all this time, to keep them hidden,” Andrew says. He doesn’t notice the wings growing from Warren’s shadow. “It’s like…what women did to pass for men?”
“Binding,” Warren answers. “And I can tell you from firsthand experience…it hurts like hell.” Andrew empathizes, especially if they are as big as Warren says. They’re certainly big, Warren replies, but when he folds them up, they become very compact. Andrew tells him people have begun to talk, having noticed Warren no longer takes gym classes or showers with anyone else present. Warren assures him that his reputation as an untouchable, golden-boy will protect him for some time. Finally, Warren gives him permission to turn around.
Andrew is literally left speechless at the sight he beholds. Warren’s wings, fully expanded, fill the emptiness of the chapel almost entirely. The first words Andrew manages to utter are “can you fly?” The shirtless Warren lifts himself into the air and hovers there, juxtaposed against the sunlight pouring through the stained-glass window behind him. He looks truly angelic. Andrew asks how fast he can go. “Wanna help me find out?” Warren replies.
The two friends head out to a nearby river, which has completely frozen over for the winter. The sun shines and a fresh layer of snow blankets the ground. Andrew tells Warren to treat this like a science experiment. They will start by seeing who can cross the river the fastest. Andrew dons his ice skates, while Warren removes his jacket, unleashing the full majesty of his wings once more. “Palmer, my friend,” he says, “you’re toast.” The race begins.
Andrew darts forward immediately, while Warren, wearing only jeans, sneakers, and his long, flowing scarf, takes to the skies. With every beat of his wings, he lifts five feet higher. The sun caresses his face and wings. When he closes his eyes for a moment, he thinks of the legend of Icarus. When he opens his eyes, however, he sees Andrew skating headlong toward a patch of thin ice. “Oh my God!” he screams. “Andrew, look where you’re going!!”
Andrew fails to stop himself in time. The ice directly underneath him begins to crack, and he falls through a hole in the surface to the icy waters below. He clings to the surface for as long as he can before the current pulls him under. He drifts through the freezing blackness, farther and farther away from the light pouring through his entry point.
Warren repositions himself in the air and initiates a dive-bomb maneuver directly at the hard icy surface of the river. As he plummets, he says a prayer, asking for the strength to save his friend. He sees Andrew desperately screaming beneath the glassy surface. Warren hits the ice, breaks through, and after sensing the direction of the current, locates the drowning Andrew. With Andrew safely in his arms, he launches himself upward with enough force to break the ice’s surface once more and heads straight for the warmth of the dormitories.
Warren immediately begins performing a resuscitation maneuver on his unconscious friend. Andrew coughs up a lungful of water and opens his eyes. “Merry Christmas, pal,” Warren says as Andrew recollects himself, “…you’re still alive.”
December twenty-fourth…
Warren and Andrew, who still endures a case of the sniffles from his brush with freezing-cold death, bump into Father Reynolds in the dining hall. He asks Mr. Palmer if he will be in good enough health to serve at Christmas Vespers that evening. Yes, Andrew replies. “Good, good…I’ve been extremely keen to spend time with you in…devout contemplation over this break,” Father Reynolds says as he leers at the frail young boy, “…but you’ve been suspiciously difficult to pin down.” Andrew stutters a response, rapt with fear. Warren steps between them and leans overbearingly close toward Father Reynolds, who hunches back a bit, accentuating the flesh folds of his chin. Warren asks if he could help with the Christmas Vespers too; it might be really helpful for his spiritual well-being and all. Father Reynolds glares at Warren. After a pausing for a moment, he tells him that is certainly acceptable. “There is room in God’s heart for all His children,” he sneers.
After Father Reynolds leaves them alone, Warren shudders. He may be turning into an angel, he says, but Father Reynolds is officially creepy. Warren, laughing hysterically, tells Andrew he will have to explain what is going on between him and Reynolds. Is the man illegitimate father or something? Andrew freezes and hangs his head in shame. He asks Warren a question: if he tells him the truth about Father Reynolds, does he promise to keep it a secret? Sure, Warren responds, reminding Andrew that he is trusting him with his personal secret. Andrew struggles to say the words out loud. “Warren, Father Reynolds isn’t a good person,” he says as tears form in his eyes. He has to bite his lip to stop it from trembling. “He…makes me do things. With him. To him.” This revelation stuns Warren. What are you saying, he asks?
December twenty-fifth…
“There is evil in this world, child,” the man in black says. He stares out through the venetian blinds of their motel room in Nebraska. Even on this holiest of nights, he says, Lucifer’s armies wage war on God’s followers. “Can you feel them, Mary Margaret?” he asks his prisoner.
Mary Margaret, tied to a chair, cries for her mother. The man tells her to hush. Her mother has been dead for three months, as Mary Margaret would be, were it not for her gift of divine sight. “You are my eyes, Mary Margaret,” he says. Only with her visions did he find the old woman in Illinois who could heal with her touch, or the little boy in Georgia who spoke every language known to man, or the conjoined twins in Nebraska who walked on water. “You led them to me, Mary Margaret, and I…I set their souls FREE!” he shouts. Mary Margaret asks why he had to kill them. “To have faith is to believe without proof,” he says. He labels his victims abominations, living proof of God’s works, who comfort to the weak and the faithless when neither deserve it. “Only those who believe without seeing shall be allowed entry into his holy kingdom.”
He reminds her theirs is a grim task, but Mary Margaret never chose this path. This man killed her mom, and shot off her foot, she cries! He only hobbled her, he says; he could not allow her to run away.
He asks Mary Margaret what she will dream about this night. Perhaps the winged boy again? If so, they will seek him out, and this time, it will be this false angel who feels the wrath of God.


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“Senior Year” Book Four of Five: Passion Play
Father Reynolds, the man in charge of teaching Freshman Theology and operating the campus ministry, has been on staff at St. Joseph’s for twenty years. In those two decades, Warren wonders, how many times has he done to other students what he has been doing to Andrew Palmer? Warren’s first impulse upon learning about Father Reynolds’ sexual abuse of his friend was to report it to the school’s headmaster, Father Gavin. However, Warren considers the possibility that Gavin might already know about his longtime friend’s misdeeds. It is too risky. He decides to deal with Father Reynolds by himself, and in the process, find out what kind of man Reynolds truly is.
After Andrew provides Warren with a few key props from the theater department, Warren proceeds to the chapel and waits patiently in the loft. Father Reynolds enters and prays, kneeling before the chapel’s crucifix. He prays for purity of thought, strength, and forgiveness. “I know that you are testing me, every day, tempting me, and I’m trying, Lord, I’m trying, but my soul is weak; my soul fails me…” he says. Suddenly, he hears a booming voice call his full name from behind. He turns and asks who is there. The voice commands him to look up. He does, and the angel he beholds leaves him speechless.
Warren, his wings holding him afloat, dressed only in leather sandals, a loincloth, and a dark mask, and bearing a sword, once more tells Father Reynolds to look up and be judged. Who are you, stutters Reynolds? “Michael – the Archangel – the Avenger – the Right Hand of God!” Warren boasts, swinging his sword dramatically. Father Reynolds cowers and begs for forgiveness. The angel calls him a wicked man, whose sins have not gone unnoticed by the heavenly father. He has seen what Reynolds has done to defile this place of worship!
Operating the spotlight up above, Andrew illuminates Warren from behind, savoring the sight of the terrified Father Reynolds. Now he knows what it feels like to be scared.
Below, Warren rejects Reynolds’ pleas for mercy. What mercy has he shown the children placed in his care? None. Such cruelty must be met with an eye for an eye. “The Lord’s judgment is a swift, terrible thing – the fires of eternal damnation await you,” the angel shouts. However, he pauses for a moment before saying he has one alternative that might stay the Lord’s vengeful hand. Reynolds says he will do anything, so Warren gives him his instructions: he must confess his crimes done to Father Gavin, resign from the school, and turn himself in to the police.
Father Reynolds complies. After confessing to Father Gavin, he packs his suitcase and anxiously awaits for his arrest. The police detain him one morning after second period while the students watch from the campus steps. “Friggin’ fruitcake. Friggin’ perv,” Brandon Hardy says to Amanda as the police escort Father Reynolds to the squad car. Yeah, Amanda says; it’s about time St. Joe’s cleaned house. “Yeah,” Brandon says. “One fruit down, one to go – right, Palmer?”
Upon hearing this jab, Andrew freezes in place and clenches his fists. He decides not to let this one slide. He turns to Brandon, makes an obscene gesture, and hurls an uncensored “screw you” at him. You wish, fairy, Brandon says. He shoves Amanda out of the way, lunges over to Andrew, and grabs him by the collar. You make me sick, he says. Andrew comments on the bully’s internalized self-hatred; he hears a lot of jocks suffer from that. Say that again, Brandon threatens.
He does not get the chance, as Warren turns around and begins rolling up his sleeves. He beat down Brandon once before; does he want him to do it again? Amanda steps in between Brandon and Warren and shoves her finger in her ex-boyfriend’s face. What a surprise, she says; Warren Worthington coming to his little friend’s defense, yet again, like some wannabe hero! He asks her to get out of the way. “What? No, Warren, you don’t dismiss Amanda Cobb,” she shouts. “Amanda Cobb dismisses you, okay?”
 Over her shoulder, however, Warren sees the situation between Andrew and Brandon escalating, and decides he does not have time for Amanda’s distraction. He grabs her by the waist and moves her out of the way. She retaliates by punching him across the jaw. The onlookers are stunned, Brandon included, who turns to watch the fight. In his lapse of concentration, however, Andrew breaks free and clobbers the bully with a double-fisted uppercut. To the onlookers, this can mean only one thing: fight!
As predicted, every student on the steps is immediately pulled into an undiscerning brawl. Fights like this happen about once a semester at St. Joseph’s, and this one is long overdue. Father Reynolds’ arrest only provided the spark it needed to ignite.
 Later, Father Gavin reprimands Brandon, Amanda, Andrew, and Warren in his office. Having been identified as the instigator’s of the fight, Father Gavin recommended to the disciplinary committee that the four of them be suspended immediately. However…
“However – you remembered that Brandon’s the Vice President’s son, that my dad pretty much owns the island of Manhattan, and that Warren’s parents are huge donors,” Amanda snaps, “and that us being suspended might jeopardize St. Joe’s fiscal health; right?”
Father Gavin hesitates a moment before resuming. They will all serve weekend detention: twelve hours on Saturday, six on Sunday. None of them will be going home for Easter, and none of them will get to attend the annual Passion plays. Their parents, meanwhile, have already been notified. “Not going home? Not seeing some lame show about Jesus?” Brandon sneers, with a wad of tissue still up his nose to control the bleeding. “I’m waiting to hear how this is a punishment…”
Meanwhile, at the gates of St. Joseph’s, two figures stare at the cathedral in the distance. The man in black asks his prisoner if this is the place. The girl with the red glowing eyes and the bleeding hands confirms that yes, it is. Their target will be alone on Holy Saturday. Very good, the man says. They will wait until Saturday, then. He leads Mary Margaret away by the chain he has around her neck. “Our work for the Lord is almost done now; I can feel it. And then…how glorious our reward will be.”
It begins raining on Thursday. The rain continues through Good Friday, turning the grounds into a mud pit. Warren notices how unaffected he feels by the sudden cold; he has had trouble sensing hot and cold ever since his transformation began. On Saturday night, most of the students leave campus and head to the Franciscan monastery to see the Passion plays, which chronicle the story of Jesus Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Warren and his fellow detainees, however, endure their eleventh hour of Saturday detention under the supervision of Mr. Zampelli, an all-around good guy whom Warren considers to be the exact opposite of Father Reynolds.
Around eight o’clock, they all head a muffled boom emanating from somewhere within the building. Mr. Zampelli leaves to go investigate, reminding the students to remain seated and silent while he is gone. After he leaves, however, Warren begins to hear a haunting voice in his head. It tells him he is in grave danger. He begins to flip out and asks the others if they hear it. Amanda asks why he is acting like such a freak lately. Brandon agrees with Amanda; Warren used to be normal. Over the sound of the voice in his mind, Warren barely hears them. He listens as the voice tells him to focus and get out of the building before it is too late.
Brandon, tired of being ignored, gets out of his seat and yells in Warren’s face. “You used to play sports! You used to have friends! You used to be cool!” he says. “Now you don’t even change your clothes!” Warren tells him to shut up, but Brandon continues. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Face it: you’re a freak, Worthington.” Warren, leaning forward to confront Brandon, neglects to contain his wings. They burst through his sweatshirt and fill the room with their grand plumage. Amanda and Brandon stare in utter amazement. Andrew, however, saw this coming.
Suddenly, the fire sprinklers activate and douse all four of the students. Brandon and Amanda begin griping. Warren, however, hears the strange voice inside his head again, this time convinced it is God’s. It tells him the building is on fire. He shouts to his friends that they need to get out, now! A Molotov cocktail suddenly crashes through the window, instantly igniting the room.
Outside, the man in black admires his work. It’s like driving heretic from the temple, he says.
Inside, Warren and his friends escape into the hallway only to see the entire building is burning. Stumbling through the flames is Mr. Zampelli, whose body is burning from head to toe. Amanda gasps in horror, and Warren realizes Zampelli was probably coming to warm them. Again, the voice speaks to Warren and tells him to use his gifts to save his friends. He leads the frightened students upstairs, through the suffocating smoke, and to the rooftop. Warren wonders how long the building will remain standing, but decides not to wait and see. Grabbing Andrew in one arm and Brandon and Amanda in the other, he leaps from the roof.
Warren has never carried this much weight before. He prays for the strength to stay aloft long enough to clear the building. As soon as he flies far enough from the flames, however, Warren quickly begins losing altitude and realizes they are crashing. He orders his friends to go limp and stay loose as they plummet toward the earth. Please, God, Warren prays, my life for theirs. They crash down. Fortunately, the muddy, rain-soaked ground below somewhat cushions their impact. Andrew’s leg breaks in the fall, but both Brandon and Amanda emerge uninjured. Warren breathes a sigh of relief; they made it. They’re alive.
The man in black, still holding Mary Margaret on her leash, intends to end that. After creeping up on the students from behind, the man points his shotgun in Warren’s face and calls him an abomination, whose every breath is a trespass against God.


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“Senior Year” Book Five of Five: Graduation/Ascension
Warren stands in the rain and stares at the stranger who means to kill him. In his head, he composes a letter to his parents he fully intends to write… assuming he lives through this encounter. The man in black, his lanky figure outlined by the blazing inferno that used to be the St. Joseph’s dormitory, locks Warren in the sights of his rifle and calls him a hellspawn and an abomination. Behind Warren, his friends exhibit a variety of emotions. Brandon Hardy curses the man for killing their English teacher, Mr. Zampelli. Andrew Palmer frantically urges Warren to get them out of there. Amanda Cobb frankly can’t believe her ex-boyfriend has wings. Warrren, however, doesn’t flinch. “Please,” he says to the man, calmly opening his arms. He asks what the man thinks he is doing.
“The will of the Lord,” the man interrupts. “Purging the world of evil.” Warren tries to tell him they aren’t evil. After all, they are not the ones who just burned down a school and killed an innocent person. In response, the man simply calls Warren a deceiver, through whom the Lord of Lies speaks.
My words weren’t having any effect on him, Mom and Dad, Warren will later write in a letter to his parents, though there was someone who did hear. A little girl who looked into my face – and saw something there – something bigger than me, or her, or that crazy guy – and did something that surprised everyone, I think.  As the man in black fires his shotgun, Mary Margaret pushes the barrel away with a stick. The shot goes wildly astray. Warren thanks God he is still alive.
The madman, cursing at the girl for her meddling, neglects to watch his hostages. In that moment, Brandon lunges forward and knocks the man to the ground. Run, he tells Warren! Take Amanda and Palmer and run! Warren, however, refuses to flee. The man gets back up and kicks Brandon in the face. As the horrified Amanda watches from Warren’s arms, Brandon is beaten over the head with the butt of the shotgun. Warren finally leads his two frightened friends away and into the woods, promising them he will go back for Brandon. However, when he looks back over his shoulder, he sees that the man in black has already finished with Brandon and is now coming for them, dragging Mary Margaret along with him by her leash.
The hunter enters the woods but sees no sign of the children. He offers Mary Margaret a chance to redeem herself by leading him through the dark forest. The little girl hesitates. She caught a glimpse of Warren’s destiny and saw the great things he will accomplish in the future with the help of others like him. The man scoffs at her. “Remember who you serve, child,” he says to her. “Remember why the Lord Almighty placed you in my care.” After they exterminate Warren, she will lead him to these others as well, he says.
Elsewhere, Warren flies the injured Andrew to the safety of a tree branch high up in the canopy. As he leaves to rescue Amanda, Andrew blurts out a question: that hunter guy is after Warren, right? He’s doing what he’s doing because of Warren, isn’t he? A solemn look graces Warren’s face, and he pauses for a moment before answering. “I’ll stop him, Andrew. No one else is gonna die tonight.”
When he returns to rescue Amanda, he finds she does not want to hide; she wants to go back with Warren and help the injured Brandon. Warren argues with her, but the crack of the rifle nearby ends the conversation prematurely. Bark chips rain down on Amanda’s head; the shot missed her head by only a meter. She runs as fast as she can into the woods. Warren, meanwhile, soars up into the air and silently loops behind the hunter. As the man stalks through the darkness, shouting that his Lord’s eyes and arms guide him, Warren prays for help. He asks the voice who helped him before to speak up again and give him guidance. The hunter, meanwhile, compares Warren’s gift to the mark put upon Cain by God. Warren remains hidden for as long as he can, but when the hunter announces that God speaks to him, he finally shows himself.
“Actually, cretin,” Warren says, “…God talks to me. And He says this insanity ends now!!” He plunges full-speed at the man in black, connecting just in time to point the barrel of the gun in a safe direction. He’s neither an abomination, nor a deceiver, nor a hellspawn, nor a desecrator. He’s an angel, Warren says as he flies into the sky with the hunter still hanging from the gun. Theologically, being an angel may place him below God, but it certainly positions himself above this man trying to kill him.
They fly dizzyingly higher and higher into the air. The man tells Warren he will burn in Hell. Warren denies it, and tells the madman he will be going to jail. The hunter sneers; he serves no law but God’s. Offering a quiet prayer for grace, the madman lets go of the gun and falls from the heights.
He didn’t make a sound, Mom and Dad, Warren will later write in his letter. He didn’t yell, he didn’t gasp, he didn’t anything. As if there wasn’t any doubt in his mind…that God would take care of him in the end.
Warren returns to the ground but finds no trace of the man’s body. If he landed in the river running through campus, he may have been carried away. Before he can contemplate this much further, Amanda, holding Mary Margaret by the hand, arrives. She urges him to get Andrew so they can go and help Brandon.
Encased in the soft plumage of Warren’s wings, Andrew, Amanda, and Mary Margaret limp out of the woods. As they approach the dorms, they are relieved to see Brandon standing and rubbing the back of his head. “Please tell me the psycho with the rifle is dead,” he says. Amanda could not be happier to see him. She leaps into his arms and their lips meet. Once the couple’s moment passes, Brandon limps over to Warren and commends him for saving their lives. He even calls him a hero. Warren, politely rejecting the compliment, calls Brandon the hero; he is just a guy with wings.
The police and the fire department finally arrive to put out the inferno in the dorms. While the others feel reassurance at their arrival, Warren feels dread at the prospect of being discovered. He turns his back and hides himself in his wings. Mary Margaret, who calls Warren “Angel,” tells him to fly back to his room and hide. “The world’s not ready for…revelation,” she says. Her wisdom frightens him; indeed he is not ready to reveal himself yet. Just as he wonders how he will keep it a secret, his friends speak up and promise to keep quiet. They won’t say a word until Warren says it is okay…if he ever does. Warren thanks them as flies back to his room.
Later, Brandon informs Warren about what they told the police. Except for the parts about the man coming specifically for Warren and his wings, they told the truth. Brandon also tells him what they learned about Mary Margaret. The man had been dragging her all of the country, killing the people with gifts like Warren’s. The police never learn of Mary Margaret’s own gifts, however.
Graduation day arrives. Warren, sitting by himself in his graduation robe, pulls a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his pocket. It’s a drawing sent to him by Mary Margaret, who now lives with a foster family. It depicts Warren, with his wings unfurled, wearing a red and white outfit and flying over some friends. With him are a bald man in a chair, a boy with a line across his eyes, a furry, animal-like man, and a boy who resembles a crude snowman. Warren cherishes the drawing despite having no idea what it means.
Andrew catches him looking at the drawing and asks what he is reading. Nothing, Warren says as he folds it up. He asks how Andrew is coping with his crutches. Better, Andrew responds. He sits down next to Warren and asks him a question: whose voice was it that spoke to him the night of the fire? God’s? “I…I don’t know if it was God, or someone else, trying to help,” Warren says. Yeah, but Andrew asks who he thinks that “someone” might be. Warren has no answer. He just hopes he will meet the man someday.
As he waits his turn to walk across the graduation stage, Warren recalls the first letter of disclosure he wrote to his parents. He tore that letter apart instead of giving it to them. He plans on rewriting it and giving it to them, along with the letter he is currently writing in his head. However, he will not do this until they are ready. Judging by their inattentive behavior at Warren’s graduation ceremony, he decides the time of revelation is far off.
Warren’s name is called by the orator, and he crosses the stage with pride. Brandon and Amanda give him a standing ovation and holler his name, while Andrew gleefully applauds. Father Gavin shakes his hand and gives him his diploma. Warren offers his sincerest thanks and smiles for the ceremony’s photographer. Now that high school Is over, he wonders what he will do next. College? Take a year off? Work for his father? Who knows? Or maybe Mary Margaret’s drawing had the right idea.
Later, dressed in his red and white body suit and a halo symbol adorning his chest, Angel soars above the clouds and into the limitless potential that awaits him.


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

[Assistant]
Phantom Wings
A plane flies, spirals downward, loses control. This is how life ends. Falling from the sky. Falling away from yourself. Blood pounding.
It is surrounded by a flock of back birds.
The engine, the birds, the world, everything… everything shrieking. Beaks and wings. Tiny bird bones. Beady bird eyes. Cracked glass. Burnt metal. This is how death begins.
An elegant restaurant. Betsy Braddock and Warren Worthington III. Weeks ago, Sabretooth severely injured both of them. Time will heal all wounds, but some scars go deeper than others.
Betsy tells Warren all of this isn’t necessary. She’d have settled for a sandwich and somewhere she can scratch herself without a waiter running up to do it for her… especially if it would mean he’d open up to her and tell her what happened between him and Creed. He obviously did more than slash Warren’s wings. He got in his head. What did that psychopath say? She wouldn’t understand. Betsy gets angry, calling him a self-pitying pain in the--
Warren unfolds his wings and coldly announces that maybe she was right. He shouldn’t have brought her here. Maybe he is a self-pitying pain whatever part of the anatomy she was suggesting. Maybe they were crazy to think that this could work out. With a “I’m sorry,” he flies off, telling them to hold the check for him.
Betsy desperately shouts that everything’s great. The chicken is swell. Self-pity is sexy! Why does he have to be that touchy, she sighs.
Going higher and faster, trying to get away from the pain, he wonders why he couldn’t tell her of all people. No one knows his pain. No one knows what he lost when this real wings – the ones he was born with – were butchered from his back … amputated and replaced with these monstrosities by the madman known as Apocalypse. So he still flies… but at what price? Sometimes he can still smell them, dangling in gangrenous lumps from his scapulae. A familiar stench that hits his nostrils right… now?
Surprised, he suddenly sees his old wings on his back. Rotten – then there’s only heat and more pain as he shrieks in agony.
Below an odd room filled with strange technology. It’s a place unknown, barricaded against the world of the living. An alarm bell screams and warning lights throb with all the joyous abandonment of a brain hemorrhage. They are being attacked again. Her defenses have been breached. But though the danger is acute, the movements have a weary mechanical edge. A strangely armored figure races to the machinery and fends of the attacking birds. Maybe it’s not only the defenses that are breached. Maybe something else is crumbling. The will to survive? The strength to fight?
A lever activates the rotating blades wreathed with the gutted corpses of dead crows. They cause the birds to flee in panic, save for Archangel, entangled in the web. Hallucinating, he asks what’s wrong with all the birds and asks for help. The figure hits him and he passes out.
Elsewhere, Jean Grey violently falls down from her levitating mediation pose as she hits a psychic barrier in her efforts to locate Archangel. She tells Psylocke she can’t reach him either. Something very strong and very weird is creating a psychic barrier. She can’t locate him. But she senses something from Betsy. Is it about what Sabretooth did to them? Betsy starts explaining, but suddenly pushes Jean away. Behind her she sees something very odd.
Within the fortress, Archangel awakes. He is chained to the ground and cannot move his wings. They are scorched, soldered, useless and soulless. Now, their dull rattle seems to scoff right back at him. Suddenly, the wall buckles as though hit by a plane or a bomb. He is thrown as far as the old chains will let him. It can’t be real! he mutters, seeing a monsters shaped of birds outside.
“Call them off!” a person in a protection suit orders him. How is he supposed to do that? Warren snaps. He’s a birdman, comes the reply. They’ll listen to him. Just because he has wings, Warren replies hesitantly, doesn’t make him a “birdman.” Where is this?
Somewhere in America, comes the unhelpful reply. Warren orders him to get the chains off. The other person apologizes. Warren is hurt, but he is unable to take chances. Addressing the other person as “Mister,” Warren shouts the warning that as soon as his wings start working again, the other person will know the meaning of pain. But until I know better, you’ll stay here, the other person replies and takes off the helmet to reveal a woman of fragile, exotic beauty. Mister.
Again, Warren warns her. She snaps that she is not going to be bullied by him. Belying her attitude, she gives him some hot food and orders him to eat it while it’s hot. She’s not going to be bullied by him? he scoffs. If he’s good, she’ll bring him some wine afterwards, she promises. If he’s good? he repeats. That’s it! he explodes. He’s had just about enough of this! He doesn’t know how he got here. He doesn’t care how he got here! He doesn’t care how much it hurts him; he’s going to open his…
Fused segments of blistered wings quiver for a moment. Tiny fissures form in a patina of synthetic nerve-rich scar tissue. And he screams to high bloody heaven.
She threatens him with her energy lance. Try that again, she warns and she’ll kill him! Warren tries to reason. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t know any more how he got here than she does. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but maybe he can help. He asks her to remember. Where they are and what’s happening with the birds.
The birds? She tries to recall. The birds have been after her since… No! She breaks off. He’s trying to trick her into trusting him. She knows how men operate and it won’t work! She tells him to eat the food and watch out for the bones and leaves.
That night, the fever comes. One minute freezing, the next on fire; Warren is covered with a glossy coat of sweat. He keeps hearing Sabretooth’s taunts over and over in his head. The homicidal mutant had implied that the blood flowing through his wings was not real. Meaningless insults from a twisted mind which nonetheless cut through Warren’s psyche like a blade. At one point, he looks down and almost retches, imagining the rotting phantom wings hanging from his back.
When sleep comes, it is a release, but full of flying, desiccated birds with stinking wings. And then, breaking through the nightmare, he sees the image of Jean Grey. Once, when they were both students at Xavier’s Institute, he had loved her. He was just a boy then. Free and alive. He wants to call out to Jean, to grasp that feeling once more. But before he can speak to her, he is awoken.
He sighs… the crazy woman is bathing his wings, softly washing the blisters. He can almost feel them… the hardened prosthetic things almost come alive. They’re beautiful, she says to herself, to no one. She doesn’t see him watching her, so she lifts her hand to her face, a look of pain coming over those lovely features. She doesn’t see him watch her as she leaves his lonely cell…
In the morning, she comes back in her suit. Time for his birdbath, she announces.
If she’s trying to act tough, he warns her, after facing the likes of Magneto and Apocalypse, he’s not easily impressed. No talking! she orders as she pushes the chained Warren past a table where he secretly slips a fork outside.
He watches her, sensing there’s something wrong with her, a deep sadness a gaping wound. He decides to play it her way. Then she cleans him with a hose of water.
Later, she chains him back to the wall of his cell. How long is she planning to keep him locked up? Archangel demands. Until she decides what to do with him, she replies.
Again he tries moving his wings when she is gone. It’s still no good. A thought hits him now. He hates these wings. Resents them. What if it’s not the burns that are stopping him from moving them? What if some part of him doesn’t want to use them?
He tries to open the lock by fumbling with the fork, not noticing that she snuck up on him. Nice try, she remarks sarcastically. How come she’s so quiet? he asks. It’s easy to be quiet on a five-thousand dollar shagpile carpet. Her husband only bought the best. Husband? Where is he? Warren asks. She stammers. He asks for her name. None of his business? she snarls. Try this again and she’ll blow his brains out! She almost flees as he cries after her that she is no killer.
Frustrated, Warren tentatively reaches out with his mind, telepathically summoning the one person to whom he’s entrusted himself. The one’s he’s pushed away. Betsy Braddock.
Betsy and Jean enter a bar, led there by their feelings and they are annoyed by each other. Jean feels Betsy isn’t doing her share, while the British PSI replies she isn’t exactly in top shape after tangling with Sabretooth… Jean interrupts. Betsy could help by stopping talking and letting her concentrate.
Betsy looks at a model airplane. She thinks it’s relevant. Only thing relevant is if they are gonna actually order anything or just stand there, the annoyed barkeeper suggests. Suddenly, the model airplane explodes. Both women sense something else. They look at a calendar on the wall: The date says May 1st, Tuesday…
Tuesday? Warren asks his host. That’s her name, she admits, and a dumb one at that. Three guesses which day of the week she was born on.
Tuesday clearly feels safer around him as she no longer wears the protection suit. Where was she born? he asks. Where are her parents? She can’t talk, she replies nervously. She needs to repair the defenses. The birds might attack soon.
Why are the birds attacking? Warren insists. She’s got to tell him now! What the heck is going on? She can’t really remember, she admits. After the accident… What accident? No! She’s said too much! She tells him to eat his food.
He knows what she does at night, Warren tells her. He knows what she does to his wings. She thought he was asleep, she stammers. For the last few nights, she’s caressed them. She’s treated them with oils and ointments. Gently. Tenderly. Why does she do it? Because… Because, since she’s been here, everything birdlike has been horrible and out for revenge. But then she saw him… Do it now, he asks her. But this time do it in the light!
And she does. She moves slowly. The oil is rich and thick and lightly scented. As her fingers gently caress his wings… something happens. Something stirs. He can feel them. Her fingers are coaxing his brittle artificial wings to life. The warmth of her hands, her breath, her body… he feels dizzy. They both do.
Then she touches that part of him. That part where his real wings were hacked from his body. He flinches as though stabbed. How did he get those scars? she asks. It doesn’t matter, he replies evasively. Something he can never have back. She asks him to tell her.
All right. There once was a man. A young man. He was blessed… he had everything. He even had wings. And what wings! It wasn’t just that they allowed him to fly. They gave him a world of feeling. They were alive… shockingly sensitive… sublimely sensuous.
He made sacrifices… was injured. The wings were amputated. He wanted them back so badly. He doesn’t like talking about this. He touches her face. Now it’s her turn to flinch. This is crazy, he thinks. This is wrong. So why does it feel so right? She no longer flinches at his touch.
Suddenly, the alert goes off. They’re attacking. She wants to run to the defenses. Warren shouts at her to come back and let him help. She grabs her lance. She can hear him calling her. Telling her to trust him. If only he knew the truth, she thinks. Would he be so eager to help then?
Nighttime… Warren lies in his cell. They usually don’t attack at night. So he waits. Time passes but she does not come. Why does he allow himself to be shackled? Is he hiding as much as she is? Did they go too far last time? Did they both reveal too much? Outside there is only blackness. But then the blackness moves. Black birds! He calls for Tuesday.
Tuesday’s been sleeping and chides herself for her stupidity. Defenses needed repairing. They can never be too strong. And she’d been thinking about him too much. She puts on the helmet, wondering whether it will be too late. Maybe this time the birds will win. They attack.
Warren can hear it from his cell. Her screams. The birds in the house. It’s time to grow up, he thinks. Time to remember who he is. To forget the pain. To forget the scabby film crumbling from his wings.
Tuesday battles. Wings beat a mad tattoo on her fragile frame. Wicked beaks tear and stab. Claws snatch and rake. The air is full of feathers and a shrieking so loud and inhuman, it might wake the dead. She cries out in pain. They swarm over her. They sense her defeat, her resignation. They coagulate above her, ready for the killing blow, but it does not come. Seconds pass. She dares to open her eyes. To see Warren standing in front of her, spreading his wings. Now it’s his turn, he tells her and them.
He moves furiously, his bio-organic wings slashing and cutting the crazed flock. Perhaps, he thinks, if he can save the woman, cleanse her soul, he can do the same for his own. And it feels so exquisite, so outrageously fine to be moving like this again, that for several moments Warren forgets that he, a mutant, an X-Man, is doing nothing more than pulverize an inexplicable throng of crazy birds.
He turns to the lying Tuesday, asking if she is okay.
At the Xavier Institute, in a room that houses some of the most advanced computers and mutant-tracking technology in the world, Betsy and Jean are trying to figure things out with the info they have. Tuesday. Airplane. Birds. Jean announces she’s checked all the plane crashes that happened on a Tuesday for the last twenty years. Nothing.
Betsy suggests a random cross-reference of the three words. Jean does that. Oh, my…! she exclaims a moment later.
Tuesday slowly comes to. Is she still alive? she asks. Warren cradles her close and assures her that of course she is. She has a few cuts and bruises. He cleaned them up. She begs him not to let the birds hurt her again. He won’t. But he wants some answers. She agrees. It was terrible, she tells him. The whole thing was like a nightmare. And she’s still in it. When is she going to wake up?
The Xavier Institute. Jean reads what they learn. A few years back, a woman called Tuesday was in a plane crash with her husband in his private jet. It made headlines because he was the biggest stock market raider of the eighties. His name was Donald Bird and he was a ruthless man.
Elsewhere, Tuesday has told Warren part of the story. So her husband died, he repeats. But what about the birds? And how did she end up here? Wherever here is?
When they crashed, Tuesday begins, snuggling closer to him, the plane nose-dived through a flock of bird. She saw them smash against the window. Their vicious vengeful beaks breaking against the glass. A tear falls from her eye. It lands on his wings and he feels it. Its weight. Its shape. But… vengeful? Why vengeful beaks?
At Xavier’s:Seems as well as being a hawk in the boardroom, the Birdman was an animal at home, Jean continues. Three counts of domestic violence. Put her in the hospital for five days once.
He hurt her so much, Tuesday admits. For so long, she didn’t feel human anymore. She couldn’t take it any longer, so she killed him. Is he satisfied now? She hit him with a wrench as he piloted the plane. She thought she’d die with him. She wanted to die.
Suddenly, the birds flock around them. He’s coming back! Tuesday shouts. To punish her again! Donald was always punishing her for something.
Warren protects her with his wings, explaining he has seen how powerful the human mind is. Some of his friends have powers… she is like them. Somehow her guilt is making the birds attack her. But she has nothing to be guilty about. He can’t hurt her anymore. Nor can the birds.
Really? Tuesday asks. Sometimes she thinks it’s the only emotion she has. Everything else… is empty. Does he understand? Yes, but she didn’t ask him to beat her up. Let go. See, he tells her, the birds are flying away if they ever were truly here. Come on, it’s over.
He wraps her in part of his wings and flies off. It’s time they both let go of the past, he tells her, and allowed themselves to live again, instead of merely existing. He asks her not to worry. He won’t let her fall. Thanks to her his wings are… are….
My God! Warren exclaims a moment later. Look where they are! In the middle of the city. They were in the middle of the city all along (namely Bird Tower)! Does she hear that? He looks at his wing and finds it empty. Gone. Like a spirit that has found its release.
She’d drawn him to her, using some kind of psionic power or something beyond hat. He’d answered her call… and in time she’d answered his. What does he feel? He cannot say. But he feels. He really feels.
Jean and Betsy finish reading the article. No survivors. What a sad story.
Later, on the grounds of the Xavier Institute, Warren tells Betsy the story. She wanted him to be more open with her; she wanted to get under his skin. Well, that’s the why it happened. She should be happy for him. His wings feel… so much better. He thinks he’s accepted them at long last. More than that, he’s embraced them.
Betsy turns away. She has to think about this. About what? he asks. She was a mutant or a ghost. One that’s earned her freedom. A ghost that touched him more than she could, she replies bitterly. Betsy that’s… he begins to protest, then looks at a bird that shortly lands on his shoulder, then flies away. He gets up and follows her. He understands her hurt but still his heart is glad. He’ll catch up to her. After all, he has wings.