by Mark Bousquet

The Third Tale

 DAYS OF THE EXTINGUISHING SUN

PART Two

 Chapter Three: All Our Yesterdays

Earth Standard Year 2011

The Xavier Institute for Advanced Learning - Westchester County, New York

Cold, autumn winds cut across the estate of Charles Xavier matching the coldness in the man’s heart. Condemned for decades to a wheelchair, Xavier relied on his powerful telepathic/telekinetic mind to carry him to this small hill. He had been sitting here for hours, thinking back on his life, focusing mainly on the negative, as the falling leaves swept by him.

It had been a rough new millennium for Charles.

He had known why he chose to come here this day, why he had bothered to drag his broken body out of bed for the first time in months and the reason became justified when his companion had joined him moments ago.

Death had come to the Xavier Institute.

"I wondered when you’d come for me," he thought aloud as he reached a hand up to his shoulder to touch the skeletal hand of Death.

Death, for her part, said not a word, but placed her other skeletal hand on top of Xavier’s.

"I’ve had a long life," Charles began, staring at his Mansion, a building where he had raised and trained nearly a hundred mutants on how to live in a world that hated and feared him. "I’ve done good, I know that. Why then, do I focus on my shame?"

Death, for her part, said not a word.

"Is it because I tried to do so much that I can never know success? Or is it that we are ultimately judged by our failures? Is that why, when Christmas rolls around, it hurts me more to receive nothing from Scott and Jean then it fills me with joy to receive Piotr and Kitty at my door?"

Death, for her part, said not a word.

"I have done good, I realize this. But what about my failures? Magnus, Onslaught, the interference with Scott and Ororo’s leadership, the death of Bobby, Warren and John ... did you know they hate me for my meddling?" Charles asked as a tear fell down his cheek.

Death, for her part, said not a word.

"They resented me for coming back from the dead, or returning from space, or from a speaking tour and taking control of my team. Did I not have that right? I meant only the best. I meant only to help guide them through our darkest days. To help them stay the course. I had no inkling that Scott and Ororo felt the way they did. Had I known I would have …" Xavier’s voice choked on the words. He buried his head in his hands and began to sob heavily.

"I wouldn’t have changed a thing. God forgive me, I wouldn’t have changed a thing."

Death, for her part, said not a word.

The Heimdall Library - City of Asgard - Earth Standard Year 2200

"Yikes, this Xavier guy sure whines a lot," Ben-Vell Parker cracked, as he stood up to stretch his back.

"Mutants were like that in those days," Angelica responded, following Ben’s lead. She cocked her head to a side, debating, as she took a long look at Ben. ‘I hope this isn’t a mistake …’ she thought to herself. ‘Toomi will probably kill me …’

"C’mon, Parker, let’s grab something to eat, I’m famished."

Ben-Vell nodded and Angelica led him off of Floor Beta and down the main staircase.

"How do you know what mutants were like at the end of the First Age?" Ben asked, cursing himself for letting his eyes linger a moment too long on Angelica’s backside. ‘Toomi would probably kill me for that …’

"Bill told me. Unlike you," she prodded, poking him in the ribs, "I’ve been listening to his stories. And asking questions about them."

They walked the rest of the staircase in silence, both saying a quick prayer as they passed the statue of Odin in the Entrance Hall, and moved to the Gardens. "Been an interesting couple of weeks, huh?" Angelica asked.

"Yeah, after Titan 3 a couple weeks back and all that recon work telling us Thanos was planning on making a move against us here in the Golden Realm, then running into those Wraiths last night … it’s been tough." Ben-Vell winced to himself, as if remembering a forgotten thought, and when he spoke again his words were harsher, "I killed some Wraiths, though. I’m doing my part in this War."

Angelica said nothing. For all the trouble she’d given Ben-Vell over the years, she knew he had it rough. It was tough enough growing up under a War, even tougher to be a descendant of the Marvels of the First Age. ‘But Ben,’ she thought as she admired the way the sun shined on his blue face, ‘Ben has two legacies to uphold, Mar-Vell’s and Spider-Man’s. Nobody says it outright, of course, but there’s a lot of people who look to him to save us all.’

They plucked their fruits of choice from the small trees in the Garden and sat down to eat them. Ben gave Angelica a long look. Her slim figure and round face, cropped close by her short blond hair made her an attractive girl, Ben supposed. ‘Not as attractive as Attumidunn, of course,’ Ben grinned.

They had all grown up together in Asgard, along with several of the other orphans of War. Little was known about Angelica. ‘Rather, little has been told to us about her. But from what Bill let slip this morn, maybe we should be told.’ Ben thought about asking her, then stopped. Her demons were her own.

"Come, let’s finish this story off," Ben said as he headed back inside the ‘Dall. "I want to see what’s up with this Santa Claus fellow."

Earth Standard Year 2011

Defenders Sanctum Dimensionarium - Out Of Time Dimension

The Defenders: Dr. Strange, Brunnhilde the Valkyrie, the Black Knight, Dr. Bruce Banner, Firebird and Rogue, sat around a large, oaken table inside a large, elegant ballroom that served as their meeting room.

Technology mixed with magick as computers and crystal spheres lined the walls of the room. Dr. Strange did not mind the intrusion of computers into his residence, but he’d be damned before he had a cold, sterile silver room.

He sat, attentive and passive, and listened to the team he had assembled.

"Right, then," Dr. Banner sighed as he rubbed his eyes and sipped on his coffee, "let’s recap what Santa Claus told us. Rogue, would you cue up the MemCube Lady Metal recorded for us in her suit of armor?"

Rogue, the former X-Man and brand new Defender, worked the controls that were laid into the table before her.

Appearing as a three dimensional image above the center of the table was a picture of Santa Claus, his eyes wild, holding a campaign placard that read: STARK/SUMMERS in ‘12. Santa ranted, "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord! And he’s not a happy dude, my friends!"

"Hold it there, Rogue," Dr. Banner interjected. "There’s our first two puzzles: Who is the Lord and why isn’t he happy?"

"We’ve been over this a hundred times," Brunnhilde reminded them, though she did so with little wariness in her voice. "We’ve gone over the multitude of possibilities. I think we can agree that without the aid of further information, we have to take a more reactive role towards this problem."

"Agreed, Val," the Black Knight responded, shifting in his chair to crack his aching back, "though I like Dr. Strange’s earlier reasoning of the five candidates who we haven’t seen for a while. People, it seems, who are destined to return before not too much longer, if only to remind everyone who they are."

"Yes, I agree with Dane," Bonita Juarez, Firebird, added. "The longer I’ve been here, the more accustomed I’ve become to looking for the patterns in our lives."

"And since we really can’t do more than guess," Black Knight reasoned, his eyes darting towards Brunnhilde, "I say we recount the five best possibilities and take a break to clear our heads."

"We had two Primary candidates, and three Secondary threats," Rogue reminded as she tapped the controls before her. "The Primary threats were those that are usually around in some manner, but space out their major assaults. Candidate One, Thanos." The image of Santa Claus morphed into one of the Titan Eternal Thanos. "This guy always creeps me out," Rogue shivered to herself.

"Thanos likes to do things big," the Black Knight began. "Though he’s been unusually quiet since the Infinity Trilogy. We’ve had scattered reports of him fighting smaller foes, folks he usually ignores, but the last twelve years or so have been almost Thanos free."

"Aye," Brunnhilde continued, "which means he’s biding his time. But is he close to launching his next campaign?"

"Next," Rogue answered, again working the control panel, "is Magneto. He’s been seen as a Savior before, most notably by the Acolytes and Exodus-"

"And he’s got the ego, just like Thanos, to fancy himself the "Lord"," Dr. Banner interjected.

"But he’s been missing from Earth since the Millennium Encounter in 2001," Rogue reminded everyone. "He’s trapped in Niffleheim for eternity, condemned there by Hela."

"Whatever did happen with him?" the Black Knight asked. "Last I heard he was leading some troops into-"

"Rogue can fill you in later, Dane," Dr. Strange cut in. "I have pressing matters to attend. As does Rogue."

Rogue glanced at her watch and her face whitened, "Please, let’s finish quickly. Ah don’t want to be late."

"The last three candidates, " Dr. Banner stepped in, punching controls to change the image from Magneto, "are all secondary candidates, part of the Almost Forgotten. These are people that rarely appear. In fact, most of their appearances are at times when they’re memories have almost completely faded from the world. It’s as if they make an effort to bother someone just so they are not completely forgotten. Just to lay claim to their name for another so many years."

"This phenomena isn’t solely relegated to villains, either," Firebird offered. "It effects heroes as well … 3-D Man, Red Wolf, Black Crow, Moon Boy and Devil Dinosaur, Machine Man. In fact, there was a time when I was one of the Almost Forgotten. I had stepped to the side and all but renounced the name of Firebird. If not for several grand tragedies that hit the Avengers, there might be someone else with the name Firebird right now. We must never forget the Almost Forgotten."

"So, who’ve we got here?" the Black Knight asked. "I’m familiar with Chthon - he’s an Elder God, brother to Gaea, one of the strongest wielder’s of magick in the Everything - and The Centric Sceptre - goddess by her own words, main antagonist of the Millennium Encounter who hasn’t been seen since - but who’s that third person?"

"Her name is Umar, and she is the sister of Dormammu," Dr. Strange explained. "She is a superior magician, though not in her brother’s class. I haven’t heard even the faintest shadow whisper her name in quite some time. But enough for now - Rogue and I have duties to attend, and I’m sure the rest of you could use a break. We will convene here later.

"And we will discuss the latter half of Santa Claus’ warning. We will discuss the Dreamer."

The Grand Hall That Skrulls Built - Anchorage, Alaska

‘Do you know what it’s like to sit behind a throne of power?’ Dr. Karla Sofen asked as she watched Anthony Stark give one of his typically idealistic speeches to a gathering of voters. ‘Do you know what it’s like to whisper in the ears of Kings and Queens, Tyrants and Presidents? To be the last person to speak to a person of power before they make a decision?’

‘Do you have any idea how intoxicating that is?’ She smiled, watching the room and listening to Stark. She doesn’t care what he says, only how people react to it. ‘These people are the pillars of power in a democracy. They have in their hands the power to make Tony Stark the President of the United States.

‘And I will sit behind his throne and rule the world through him.’

Scott Summers liked this part the best. He liked making a difference in the way people thought and felt. If they could win, if he could become the vice-president, that would do more for mutants than any victory the X-Men ever had. If only Jean could be with him …

‘Do you stay awake at night and wonder about me, Cyclops?’ Dr. Sofen asks as she gives Scott Summers a long look. ‘And are those thoughts of concern or something … more?’ She smiled to herself, thinking of Scott’s wife, the former X-Man Jean Grey. ‘Do you wish she was here to comfort you? Or do you merely wish for comfort itself in these cold Alaskan nights on our long and winding road to Washington? Alaska has always been a … weakness of yours, hasn’t it?’

Scott worked the crowd, smiling, shaking hands, doing all those things politician’s must be proficient at. ‘You’re still an attractive man, Scott Summers, though you’re lack of adventurous pursuits in recent years has caused your body to soften just a bit. And is it age or worry that has caused your hair to grey?’

Dr. Karla Sofen, a woman who has manipulated many in her life, smiled. ‘Grey. We all have weaknesses. Do you know what yours is? I know mine. I know Tony’s. You think you do, too, don’t you? That’s why you get nervous whenever alcohol is around, isn’t it? You think you’ve seen that story one too many times.

‘But you’re wrong. His weakness is something else. And yours, yours is that one simple word, Grey. Is Grey a color or the lack thereof? Is your life fulfilling now that you make a difference, or is it hollow and empty because there is no Grey?’

Karla Sofen smiled as she left the room to seek out contacts and ran into Senator Roy Hickock, a middle-aged man just on the other side of fifty, heavy … weak.

"Hello, Senator," Dr. Sofen greeted, extending her hand.

"Who are you?" Senator Hickock asked, not bothering to smile or extend his hand.

"I’m Karla Sofen, Mr. Stark’s new campaign manager," she smiled, loving this game, her hand slipping inside the portfolio she always kept by her side. "I hope the most popular Senator in the history of Alaska is here to announce his support for the Stark/Summers campaign?"

"No chance," he answered, a smug smile upon his face that Karla knew was about ten seconds from being wiped off. "I may have made my money on Skrull gold, but that don’t mean I like aliens, or mutants. And in case you didn’t know, your candidates are both pro-alien and pro-mutant. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ABCN has a camera crew set up outside where I’ll denounce your candidates, Ms. Sofen."

Senator Hickock began to walk away, when Karla’s low voice stopped him in his tracks. "Do you know what it’s like to have skeletons in your closet, Senator? Do you know what it’s like to have secrets … fetishes, even … that could bring a man to public shame?"

"I don’t know what-"

"Do you know what it’s like," Karla whispered as she moved in close to the sweating, fat man, "to be threatened? To be told exactly what to do? To be treated like a puppet, where everything you do is controlled by the whims and … desires … of someone else?" She slipped a folder under his arm.

"From this moment forward, you do."

Defenders Sanctum Dimensionarium - Out Of Time Dimension

"Must you watch them, Stephen?" the deep British voice asked. "We have better things to do."

"Better? No, Elizabeth, not better," the Sorcerer Supreme remarked, not taking his eyes off his Abacus of Attentiveness, a bookcase sized device with fifty crystal spheres arranged like the beads of an abacus. At times, Strange would take one sphere and move it to the left. Other times, one would be moved to the right. Inside each sphere, a different event unfolded before Dr. Strange’s eyes. "I will grant you that it is far more pleasant, but better, no."

"Come now," Betsy Braddock, the former X-Man known as Psylocke breathed into Strange’s ear as her arms snaked around his chest. "How can spying on people be better than time spent with me."

"Giving in to carnal desires will not aid in my wish to save the Everything," Strange responded, "but the information I ascertain from the Abacus will." He didn’t bother mentioning to her that she was in the full prime of her Mandarin concocted persona and that if he took advantage of her in this state, she would be all the more angry with him when her personality swung back around to her original, more passive nature.

Betsy sighed and watched the spheres holding the Defenders to pass the time.

Dane Whitman tried his best to impress Brunnhilde, but nothing worked. It never did, Betsy smiled.

Dr. Banner and Bonita had a quiet chat inside Bonita’s quarters. Banner had come to rely upon her kindness and attention.

"She holds the key to the rage of the Hulk in her heart," Strange revealed.

"Ah, a classic," Betsy squeezed her arms tighter, "beauty soothing the savage beast. How … romantic. Perhaps they will be turned into a Disney movie, they do so love their cliched morality tales. Ah, look at that sphere," Betsy pointed to the upper right, "Lady Metal takes yet another lover. Santa Claus was right about that, at least. She is just like her father. Who is that she’s with?" Psylocke squinted and then began to laugh, "oh my, that’s Proudstar. Won’t Hallie be upset when she finds out?"

On a fourth sphere, Rogue walked through the halls of the Dimensionarium. She passed through a door, down a flight of stairs and across a tropical garden. Slowly above her the sky turned to glass. She reached a glass door and walked through that, as well, stepping into a normal, ranch house. She smiled and quickened her step, heading out the front door and stepping into the crisp fall air of Shinoquill, Maine.

"Her happiness can be so annoying," Betsy scoffed, drawing no response from Strange.

Rogue waited a few moments, checking her watch almost every thirty seconds. After five harried minutes her face lit up and her eyes danced as a bright, yellow school bus pulled to rest in front of her house.

She could barely contain herself as she nearly hopped towards the small, quiet young boy that stepped off the bus. "Mommy!" he yelled and ran into her embrace.

"Bah … kids," Betsy shivered as she unconsciously withdrew her hands from the Sorcerer Supreme. "Though I will admit a curiosity as to who the father is …" she let her voice trail off hoping Strange would one day answer the question they all had. "The way she acts, you’d think she was still a virgin."

"She is."

Two Days Later

Van Dyne Haven - Home, Montana

"I thank you for allowing me a visit, Ms. Van Dyne," Charles Xavier smiled as he pushed his wheel chair along the well lit, carpeted corridors.

"Don’t mention it, Professor," Janet Van Dyne, the former Avenger Wasp, smiled as she walked alongside him. "Please remember to not use your powers. We don’t allow that here."

"I will remember," Charles huffed - it had been ages since he had to use physical means as a way to get around. "Tell me, how is she?"

"Like most of the people here, she has good days and bad days, though it would be nice to know how she got like this," Janet explained, giving Xavier a look of displeasure. "Leonard tries his best with her, as do all our psychiatrists and psychologists and shamans and alien healers, but there doesn’t appear to be any hope of recovery."

"No, I suppose there isn’t," Charles said quietly. "Does Scott visit much?"

"Less and less," Janet answered as they walked past a large window, revealing a large field beyond. Xavier noted there were many people in the field, soaking up the sun, but none he recognized. "But with him and Tony running for office, it’s understandable. There’s no sign she recognizes him, as it is. Here we are."

They stopped by a large oaken door. "Security, Hall 7."

"All clear, Ms. Van Dyne," a voice announced from unseen speakers.

"I know I said no powers," she smiled to Xavier, "but for security and psychological reasons, there are a few powers I allow." Janet seemed to disappear, then Xavier noticed she had shrunk down to "Wasp" size. She flew into the locking mechanism on the door and reappeared a few moments later, growing back to normal height. "God, I do love doing that," she smiled, "and it saves plenty on keys. The door is now open, Charles."

"Thank you, Janet," he forced a nervous smile, then handed her a disc. "That should tell you all you need to know about what happened to Jean. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a former student to visit."

Janet nodded and opened the door as Charles wheeled himself inside. She closed the door behind him.

Charles Xavier said his good-byes and wheeled out the front door of the Van Dyne Haven. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he stopped. He took a final look around him, at the beauty of nature and closed his eyes, letting his lungs fill with the sweet smell of the Montana dessert.

A cold, hard playing card is pushed against his throat.

A slice is made.

As Xavier fell forward to the ground his eyes fell open and he saw Death standing above him.

Death, for her part, said not a word.
 
 

I’m going to get right into the letters this month and keep my comments to a minimum. But first, a gaffe on my part. When thanking those who helped me out by reading an early draft of the first issue, I neglected to mention Lonni UNTOLD TALES OF THE WCA Holland. Thanks for helping out, Lonni! Now, on to our first letter from Randy THE VAULT Lander, about the first issue, The Vengeance of Hope …

Well, I'll say this...you've got one hell of an ambitious project in front of you here. These stories intrigued me when they showed up in FF, and I'm glad to see more of them. I can get a feel for the scope you want for this series, and I know you're capable of pulling it off. It's definitely off to a good start.

One thing I really like is the nice mix between big, iconic characters (Captain America/Marvel, Galactus, Thanos) and the smaller characters (Danielle Moonstar, an interesting descendant of Spidey). There's a real sense of war going on here, and I could easily visualize a swarm of Valkyries fighting an enormous force of Deviants with your descriptions.

My favorite moment was the Cap entrance. Beautifully written. Well done!

I'm hooked, and looking forward to more, Mark.

-- Randy Lander

Thanks, Randy. I admit I stole the Cap entrance from myself - I have this 3 ½ hour Captain America move script I’ve got rattling around in my head where there’s a scene with Cap coming out of a smoke cloud. It’s toned down from that - not nearly as dramatic as the script version is - but I’m glad people liked the way it came out.

One of the themes of this series will be Balance - I mean balance (or do I?) - and that means finding a nice balance of icons and smaller characters and a balance between the big moments and the small moments. I’m thrilled that people have been responding to the new characters as well as they have been.

And now, from a word from the other side of the Pond, where soccer is football and football is just something on the tv to watch when you’re sipping on a Guiness …

Just to say Mark that this story was great and holds a huge amount of potential. Looking forwards to the next installment.

Well done!

Neil

Thanks, Neil! Neil’s CRUSADERS series was probably the first title that really set MV1 apart as something special to be a part of. Remember to ask Neil about how much he likes Captain America sometime ... Heh.

The next letter for this issue comes from the always cool spin doctor …

Oh man, I LOVE the first scene! Winged horses carrying norse warrior women into battle against a battery of laserfire on an unknown world--now that's high drama! This is a scene that screams for a musical backdrop by John Williams.

*snipped spin’s nuts-and-bolts comments about the first issue that were changed*

You've painted a fantastic portrait of the MU at war. Franklin Richards is out-Galactusing Galactus. A Parker Kree, a drunken Eros, Beta Ray Bill, Asgardians everywhere...I'm looking forward to Canticle's story very much, however. It's good to see that you're putting non MU characters to such great use right off the bat. (Besides, i get the feeling that the machine is in love with her. Should be interesting)

And of course, Cap was a masterstroke. What a fantastic idea! Combining that with the quasi-myth of the Avengers last stand...I hope that's a story that'll be told here. Please sign me up for a subscription!

-- spin doctor

Thanks, spin! We will return to the War in issue 5 and we’ll probably see Canticle there as well. She’s going to play an important role in this series as we move along.

spin’s comments about the John Williams score will probably not be something left to the imagination much longer. As online or data comics begin to happen, little things like sound effects or music will be an important part of that process.

Thanks for reading everyone. Once again, if you’d like to sign up for a subscription to AGC, or have any comments/criticisms, you can e-mail me at mariner2@tiac.net. See you …