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An Unsung Hero
by Rowena

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FOOTNOTE 9887354467392: AN UNSUNG HERO; CHAPTER ONE – CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Historian's Note: The following is the historical record of Twyla Todd and her involvement with the X-Men of Earth 816 between April 5 and April 20, 4067 OST (Otherworld Standard Time). All facts herein have been researched and authenticated by Rowena Zahnrei, Head Historian of the Omniverse and Second Advisor to the Supreme Omniversal Guardian Roma.

Chapter One

Twyla Todd groaned and shifted her position once again. Her fingers were numb, her arm threatening to fall asleep. Shaking the tingling appendage in an attempt to bring it back to life as quickly as possible, Twyla rolled over onto her side and stole a glance at the glowing digital clock sitting on the table by the side of her bed.

1:30 AM

This time her groan was far louder. Sighing through her clenched teeth, Twyla silently cursed herself for her procrastination and irresponsible self-indulgence. She had frittered the entire afternoon and evening away in gleeful satisfaction, immersing herself in her favorite science fiction stories. She had been completely oblivious to the passage of time until her mother had passed by her door just over four hours ago...

"You will be asleep by eleven, won't you, Twyla?" Mrs. Todd asked in her stern 'mothering' voice.

Twyla jumped at the unexpected intrusion, slowly becoming aware of her true surroundings as the futuristic landscape of the story faded from her mind. "Wha-? What?" she stammered, slightly disorientated.

"Twyla," her mother said, her thick Virginia accent holding a warning. "For the past three nights now you've been going to bed past midnight. I'm not going to watch you ruin your health. You're fourteen now. I shouldn't have to be telling you this."

While her mother spoke, Twyla became aware that the light had gone from her window. There were stars outside. With a gasp, she turned to her clock.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed in horror, jumping up from her bed and dashing to her backpack. "It's 9:30! I've still got to write that stupid journal entry on The Republic! And I haven't even started my Latin!"

Twyla's mother sighed, her dark eyes reflecting her annoyance. "Twyla, if you knew you had homework why did you spend the entire day reading those stupid sci-fi books?"

Twyla felt her back stiffen. She turned to her mother, her expression defensive. "They are not stupid! They're about robots, Mom."

Mrs. Todd had had enough. "If they start to interfere with your studies, robots or not, those books are going to the shredder. You need to get your priorities straight, Twyla. What's more important to you? Getting good grades, getting into a good college, having a real life and a career, or wasting your time on that trash you've become obsessed with lately?"

"They're not trash." Twyla glared down into the depths of her battered backpack, furious at her mother's words and angry at herself for losing track of the time. Silently fuming, she pulled her Latin textbook and her worn, dog-eared copy of Plato's Republic out of the bag and tossed them onto her bed. She then began digging for a pen. She did not look up at her mother.

Mrs. Todd shook her head at her daughter, completely unable to fathom what a bright, intelligent girl like her could possibly see in that technobabble nonsense she insisted on stuffing her head with. "Don't stay up all night," she snapped as a parting shot. Then, she turned and continued on her way down the hall...

Twyla scrubbed the sleep from her eyes and struggled to focus on the textbook in front of her.

"I am such an idiot," she grumbled to herself, grasping her pen in her newly awakened fingers and carefully copying the Latin sentence into her notebook. "God, I hate parsing. It's too late for this. Maybe I should pretend to be sick tomorrow." She snorted as she brushed a few errant strands of long, frizzy hair from her face. "I don't feel so great right now, come to think of it."

Her eyes strayed longingly to the colorful book lying on the floor beside her bed. She felt warm and dreamy as her mind began to fill with images from the text, her imagination latching onto her favorite characters and preparing to take them off in new directions. With a small gasp, she caught herself before she fell asleep and shook her head in disgust at her weakness.

"Work, Twyla," she grunted. "Work comes first."

Forcing her attention back to her homework, Twyla seethed with agonized frustration as she stared at the sentence before her. "Regem malum tolerare numquam debemus," she read out loud. "What the heck kind of word is 'numquam'?" She rolled her eyes. "Like I really care at practically two in the morning." She clutched her face in her hands and executed a muffled scream. "I am such an idiot!"

Just then, there was a sharp pop and Twyla suddenly found herself in total darkness. She froze, terrified, the silence of the sleeping house buzzing in her ears. Slowly, she reached out for her lamp, flicking the switch on and off. When nothing happened, she glanced down at her clock, wondering if there had been a power blackout. The red numbers were glowing dimly in the darkness. The power was still on. Blinking, Twyla realized her light bulb must have died.

"Wonderful," she grumbled, slipping off the bed and stretching out her aching muscles in the darkness. "Five more sentences to go and my light bulb goes out on me. I am never getting to sleep tonight."

Twyla dropped to her hands and knees as she crawled silently to the hall closet where the light bulbs were kept. Her mother was a very light sleeper and she always left her door open. If she should hear Twyla creeping around the house at such a late hour, Twyla knew she would never hear the end of it.

The long hallway was illuminated by a surprisingly strong night light. Twyla quickly chose the right kind of bulb for her lamp and crawled back to her room, fervently praying that her mom wouldn't hear the small creaks the floor made as she put her weight on the aging boards.

Closing her door behind her with a sigh of deep relief, Twyla reached out into the darkness, feeling for her bed. She followed its edge to her lamp and quickly set about unscrewing the still warm bulb.

As she did, she became aware of a strange, tingling sensation traveling up her arm. Ignoring it as merely a sign of her extreme fatigue, Twyla rested her finger against the edge of the now empty socket as she reached for her replacement bulb.

All at once, her world exploded.

Twyla screamed a scream of pure terror. She feared she was being electrocuted. Powerful waves of energy rolled up her arm and into her violently trembling body, causing her every cell to glow with an inner light of its own. Twyla could feel the power building behind her eyes, at the edges of her fingertips. It was as if she had become a sponge-no more like a vacuum cleaner-sucking helplessly at the electricity coming from her lamp. Fractal sparks exploded all around her, fading off into infinity; power wrapped around her thumping heart, filling her mind with a strange sensation not unlike elation. The power she was absorbing was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. She felt she could never get her fill of it.

A violent scream from behind her snapped Twyla back to her senses. With a forceful wrench, she pulled her finger from the lamp, turning to face the source of the scream.

Mrs. Todd stood just outside her daughter's doorway staring in utter horror at the impossible sight that met her gaping eyes. Twyla was standing by the window, her hand clutching her lamp, her body illuminated with the same brilliant red glow that is seen when one puts one's hand over a lit flashlight. Her eyes and fingertips seemed to be aflame with a blinding white light.

"T-Twyla?" Mrs. Todd gasped, weak with denial and disbelief and at the point of fainting.

Twyla spun to face her mother, pulling her hand completely away from her lamp as she felt the energy within her churning and building into something more, something dangerous, something that threatened to burst from her at any moment.

"Mom, get out of here!" she shrieked, her voice raw, her tongue crackling with electricity as it moved against her teeth. "Now!"

Her mother just stood there, stunned, her eyes wider than Twyla had ever seen them. Her dark skin had turned the color of ash. She suddenly seemed so small, so helpless.

The churning energy was building up behind her eyes. There was no way she could contain it, let alone control it. Helpless, she found herself engulfed by the strangest sensation she had ever experienced as all the energy she had absorbed into her body exited from her eyes and fingertips in an exhilarating rush of raw power. Her mother didn't even have time to scream before the blinding beams burst through the wall beside her, knocking her off her feet and setting the old, wooden house instantly ablaze. Twyla's world erupted into gleaming, flashing fractals; angular, beautiful lines and patterns of light that stretched off into infinity. Completely overwhelmed by the power and emotions that swirled and tossed within her deceptively fragile frame, the young girl ran from the burning house, screaming in mad exultation. In her power-flooded mind, Twyla Todd had become a god.