X-MEN ETERNITY

eXcalibur #6: "The Girl Who Would Be Phoenix"
Rated PG-13 for violence and language

by R. John Burke

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men are a copyright of Marvel Comics. I don't own them, but this is only non-profit fan fiction. No money is involved and no infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: X-Men Eternity started (in Uncanny #1: The Shattering) with the events at the end of "House of M" and went in a different direction. "eXcalibur: Eternity" deals with a part of the team trapped in an alternate reality in the time of King Arthur.

--

Alternate Reality #225
The British Isles
A Long Time Ago...

Moira Kinross stood before the monument in the cold light of dawn. Beside her stood two others: One short, dark, and female, possessed of a regal bearing: Guinevere, queen of the realm. The other was tall and strong and bore a knight's broadsword.

The monument was to a Phoenix.

Weeks, or perhaps a few months earlier, Jean Grey and her comrades had arrived in the realm of a man calling himself Merlin, whom Moira knew was really named Slayer. (- revealed in eXcalibur #3) Jean's coming had heralded the beginning and the end of many things. But not all of these strange... X-Men... had survived the experience.

The body of Mindee Cuckoo, a sixteen year old girl, lay in a grave a few meters away. She'd died before Moira's eyes, at the hands of a duplicate of a man named Jamie Madrox. (- last issue) Moira didn't understand a lot that had happened after that-- or during that. Moira didn't understand a hell of a lot, when she came right down to it. So much that had happened was beyond her ken.

She knew this: A young girl had been very brave, and had died defending her friends. Moira would mourn that girl, praying that perhaps the girl's friends might still accomplish their mission and make all this worthwhile. Somehow.

-Wherever you are,- Moira thought, and studied the monument. -Please.-

--

Two Days Earlier

"Well... here we are."

They faced each other in a void between Universes: Jean Grey, the Phoenix, the all but undisputed matriarch of the X-Men, with green eyes on fire and red hair almost a fire of its own. Opposite her, Emma Frost, the White Queen who had replaced her on her pedestal-- and in more private areas. Blonde over blue, cool and quietly amused.

For weeks, the X-Men had been seeking a way to bring their stranded team members home, but Jean had never expected Emma to be the one to do it. Her team had been leaving the city, when Emma's astral form had appeared to them out of a glowing white portal-- a wormhole between dimensions which she'd opened (- see Uncanny X-Men #5-6). Now she was on something of an inter-dimensional tour, gathering up stray mutants. (- as in X-Force & X-Factor #6). Those mutants were in her debt-- Jean was in her debt-- and she obviously knew it. In the words of Rahne Sinclair-- Wolfsbane-- “She'll be well-nigh insufferable, now.”

Jean had decided to suffer alone (in case it was some kind of trick), so she'd joined Emma in the portal, and now... here they were.

"Thank you," Jean said, getting that out of the way.

Emma blinked, as though she hadn't expected to hear it. "Yes, well... thank you for saving Mindee."

"She's a remarkable girl. You taught her well."

"She didn't learn this from me," Emma said. "I don't suppose I could...?"

Jean shook her head. "It's best if I'm the only one who knows where she is. There's no telling who else the Slayer might possess."

Emma snorted. "Of course, he could never possess the great Jean Grey, is that it?"

"It's not worth his trouble to try," Jean said. "He told me as much. He's got his plans; I'm not in them."

"Suddenly I feel a great kinship with the Slayer."

Jean glared at her. "You just can't be the good guy, can you? You can't even let me thank you."

"Let's not pretend we like each other, dear. That's a little much for even me to stomach." The White Queen tossed her head. "I'm in this because I don't fancy annihilation any more than you do."

"I don't know, Emma. I think you're far more self-loathing than me."

"I'm not the one who once committed suicide." The self-assured sneer returned. "I am a survivor. Scott may no longer consider me an X-Man (- see Uncanny #4), but I'm concerned the Slayer might hold me responsible for the company I keep. So I'll do what I must to survive, even bring -you- back."

Jean laughed. "I'm touched. I'm-- really-- that's touching. Things not going well with Scott?"

"We need you," Emma admitted. "He needs you. But only as an X-Man."

"Are you warning me to respect your turf?"

"Suggesting," said Emma. "Things have changed, Jean. Bear that in mind. Although I'm sure you're tempted to reach into our souls with all that marvelous Phoenix power and reset the status quo, it's not going to happen in this lifetime."

Jean sized up her rival; the White Queen was mostly bluff. They'd never been evenly matched, or even close-- that had been established in their very first battle. But something in Emma's demeanor-- that she'd be willing to make this threat, and put herself on the line to back it up-- won a grudging respect, so Jean relaxed from her war footing.

"I hope I can fix things with Scott-- our friendship. Our rapport. But that's all. I've no intention of crawling to him for anything else." Jean shrugged. "As to forcing the issue-- do you really think I'd do that?"

"I would, in your place."

Jean nodded. "Yes, Emma, I think we can agree that if I were you, we would be having a different conversation."

She held the other woman's eyes. Message sent. Emma cleared her throat and backed away.

"If you'll assemble your team, we can have this over with."

"Not just yet," Jean said. "This is the Slayer's home timeline; this is his haven. The first step to beating him begins here, with us."

"Not again! I've already explained this to sodding Wolverine. My control of this gateway is very limited. I cannot just wait around while--"

"Then leave," Jean said. "Now that you've opened the portal, I think I can handle the controls from this end."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Of -course- you can instinctively control it better than I after half a moment's study. You are an ill-mannered showoff, Jean Grey."

"I prefer to say I'm multi-talented." Jean's manner softened. "You've seen Logan?"

Emma started to say something; then her smirk fell into place. "Don't worry about him pining away, luv. He's developed other interests." (-X-Force 5-6)

"I don't--" Jean caught a snippet from the other woman's mind and almost laughed aloud. "BETSY! You have to be kidding!"

"We're rather shocked, as well. Sorry to deprive you of your backup plan, but don't fret. I'm certain some other X-male will be along to worship at your altar."

"I don't..." Jean shook her head. "Betsy. Unbelievable."

"It's the ninja bit, you know. Men can't resist a naughty ninja. Particularly Logan."

"This is true. One time-- wait. We're gossiping, Emma. That's dangerously close to bonding."

"We must never speak of this," the White Queen said, and Jean agreed.

--

"How long is she going to be in there?"

"She's nae really in there, just her astral form." Rahne Sinclair turned to her friend and shrugged. "As long as it takes."

Jamie Madrox nodded, studying his balled-up fists. He looked like hell. He'd seen dozens of his duplicates murdered by Merlin's henchmen, and finished off the last of them on the grounds that, well, the fellow deserved it after killing Mindee Cuckoo. Jamie had repaid him in kind. (- issues 4-5) But Rahne didn't think it was psychic backlash from that act behind the hollowness in Jamie's eyes. It was, rather, the knowledge that a part of -him- had acted as a butcher, without a shred of remorse or pity. Sometimes Jamie's friends wondered what to make of this strange, schizoid man. Jamie wondered, too.

"At least while she's in there, I don't have to hear her talking to Mindee," he said.

"Ye've seen her do that, eh?"

"Yeah. Out loud. Either she really thinks the kid's alive, or she just wants to rub it in."

Rahne sat down beside him. "It wasn't yuir fault."

"Hell, it wasn't."

"D'ye need..."

"What, talk?" Jamie glared at her. "Not much to say, is there?"

"There's some," Rahne said. "What I dinnae understand is how ye pounded that dupe wi'out creatin' a whole crowd of ye."

He shrugged. "My power's still out of whack. I -can't- make dupes. And he-- I don't think he wanted to. I think that was his deal with the Slayer. He wanted to be unique."

"So it took his power." Rahne nodded. "D'ye suppose that's how the Slayer moves between timelines? Duplicates himself like a Madrox?"

"Rahne, I don't give a damn. I just want to be left alone, please."

Another might have taken offense. Rahne had known Jamie Madrox too long, all the way back to Muir Island, where she'd practically grown up. She felt a little of the wolf come out as she looked in his eyes, a predator studying its prey.

"Dinna give up on me, now, boy. 'Tis still a long way to..."

She trailed off, growled. Jamie arched an eyebrow. Rahne was looking over his shoulder.

"-Her-."

Jamie craned his neck and winced. "Yeah."

Moira Kinross, the dark and beautiful lady healer Jean Grey had brought to the party, crouched a little distance away, tending the wounded Sean Cassidy. (- hurt in #4) From the way Sean reacted, it was clear he thought she was who she looked like-- Dr. Moira MacTaggert, Jamie's mentor and for all practical purposes, Rahne's mother.

Except that she wasn't. Rahne could -smell- that clearly-- not only wasn't it her mother over there, it wasn't entirely human. She suspected she was never meant to encounter this doppleganger; Jean wasn't stupid, she had to realize Rahne would know. But in the hustle to try to save Mindee, it had been unavoidable. Rahne had almost torn out the impostor's throat ion sight, but Jean had kept a tight mental reign on her, promising to explain when there was time.

Rahne thought now was a good time. Morphing to her wolf-state, she started forward...

Jamie's hand brushed the hackles on her neck. "Let it alone, Rahne."

Let it -alone?- Jamie ought to have known what Moira's presence meant to her. Especially in her wolf state, with instinct for her guide, Rahne couldn't imagine putting this off. She growled in Jamie's direction.

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't want to? But think what'll happen if you go over there-- you'll have to explain to Sean, and he won't understand, and the whole thing will turn into a mess. We don't need another mess right now."

Rahne morphed back to her transitional state, still crouched on the ground and growling. "It's all wrong, Jamie. She has nae right ta..."

"No. But it's done. Right now, we need her. Kill her later." Jamie looked down at his hands. "If you have to."

Rahne morphed all the way back. Jamie was so seldom right; why did he pick now?

"I miss her so," she said, staring at the other-Moira. "Some wounds shouldn't be reopened."

Jamie slapped a fist into his palm-- a gesture he didn't have to be careful about without his powers-- but the sound startled him and he fell silent, staring again. Rahne was just about back to worrying about him and forgetting her own bloodlust, when Moira looked up.

"You, there! Girl! Would ye fetch me a--"

"Fetch it yuirself," Rahne snarled.

Sean looked up, surprised. "What're ya doin', lass? D'ya not realize who--"

"-I know who ye think she is, Sean!-"

"Rahne," Jamie muttered, "chill. Like now."

"Stay out of this, Madrox! It's none of yuir concern! 'Tis is between me and yon scaffy minger!"

Moira Kinross had pride and to spare, like her namesake. She stood tall, glaring at Rahne. "I dinnae know who ye think ye are, but ye'll not speak t'me in that tone again!"

"I'll speak t'ye any way I like! YUIR NOT MY MUM!"

Rahne lunged at her, morphing to the wolf as she did. Moira ducked, but it was the Banshee who reacted on instinct-- Sean SCREAMED, knocking Rahne down before she could draw blood. She hit the ground with a yelp, even as Jamie found his feet.

"What the hell do you think--"

Sean said, "I don't know what's got into the pair of yeh, but I'll tell yeh this--"

They might have come to blows, but a voice cried: "ENOUGH!"

ZRAKOW! The ground between Jamie and Sean exploded, staggering them. Rahne shook herself and morphed, still with murder in her eyes. But she didn't attack again.

Alex Summers and Cain Marko-- Havok and the Juggernaut-- strode into their midst, flanking Jean Grey. None of them appeared the slightest bit amused.

"Enough," Jean said quietly. "This can all be settled later."

"Easy fer you t' say," Rahne growled.

"No, it is not particularly easy, but we have work to do."

"That means get it in gear," Alex said. "The next brawler gets a permanent suntan. Understood?"

Sean frowned. "Rather grim, don't yeh think?"

"This is serious."

"Says you." Cain Marko cracked his knuckles. "We got us a date with a hotshot wizard. I'm psyched. I only wish we could kill 'im more than once."

"Who says we can't?" said Jean, and since nobody quite understood that, nobody argued.

--

“The key point to remember is that none of this happened when it happened.”

Lorna Dane, Polaris of the X-Men, was starting to feel a little silly. Having held off most of an army by herself, she now confronted a witch who thought she was Morgan Le Fay and a knight who called himself Mordred. Morgan was the most powerful mutant she'd ever seen, and Lorna had dealt with her via the shrewd expedient of-- threatening to kill her own half-sister, Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, who lay unconscious in Lorna's arms with a knife to her throat. A little distance away, their brother Pietro-- Quicksilver-- look on in astonishment. (- all from last issue)

If Lorna attempted to actually use the knife, she knew Pietro would stop her. He was fast enough. She only hoped he'd let her play this out, recognizing it for a bluff. Which it was-- sort of. Lorna thought she knew a secret, and threatening Wanda seemed to be the only way to get Morgan Le Fay to show her cards.

“Yes,” Morgan continued, “I am the Scarlet Witch. And no, I am not.”

“I am so not following you. Dumb it down a little.”

Morgan arched an eyebrow. “Remove the knife and I'll explain.”

Lorna glanced from her to Pietro. She lowered the weapon. “Quickly.”

“Quickly-- this has been a thousand years in the making! When Wanda Maximoff remade your world in what you call the House of M, she sent tremors through the Multiverse. One of them unleashed an evil from its imprisonment. It has many names. You may know it as the Adversary.”

“Know it? Alex almost died stopping it-- he did die. Long story.”

“I know it already.”

“That's... expedient.” Lorna frowned. “But he was beaten-- and then Forge beat him -again- a while back.”

“Not all of him,” said Morgan. “It's hard to explain to a member of such a... limited race... but a fragment of the Adversary's essence was released from its prison beyond time. Just a hint of him-- a shadow of a shadow, if you will. Having no substance, it wandered through time and space, seeking... what it eventually found here.”

“Merlin,” Pietro said, catching on.

Morgan Le Fay nodded. “A mutant with strong psychic potential and the ability to cast himself through time. This world was then ruled by squabbling telepaths; the Adversary came to him and showed him how to take control. There was a crashed Shi'ar scoutship..."

"We found it," Lorna said. (-issues 1-3)

"He used its technology to amplify his power and enhance his perception among the nobles. He created dragons, and became their Slayer."

"But what's his grudge against us?" Lorna asked.

"Why did he want my sister?" Pietro added.

Morgan shrugged. "No one knows what he wanted in the beginning... was he an opportunist, or a good man who dreamed of a literal Camelot? It's irrelevant now. By the time he killed our Lords Cardinal and instituted his puppets in their place, there was little left except the Slayer. It all took place, from your perspectives, a thousand years ago. From his perspective, he has been fighting you ever since, spreading his foul shadows through the realities, one at a time."

Pietro lurched to his feet. "Wanda! Tell us about Wanda, or I'll--"

"HOLD YOUR PLACE!" Morgan extended her hand. Pietro's every muscle spasmed, and he doubled over. He was lucky, at that: Yesterday she'd killed him. (- issue #4)

"Why are you so angry?" Lorna demanded. "If any part of you is Wanda, she would never hurt--"

"I was created to do what she cannot," said the sorceress. "The girl couldn't even explain this to you consciously. Wanda Maximoff is a hero. She wants to destroy the beast she created, but she cannot. She cannot save her friends. She cannot even express her anger at her brother's part in all this."

Pietro's face contorted. "I tried to protect Wanda! The Slayer tricked--"

"Keep believing that, boy. You'll sleep better." Morgan dismissed him from her notice. "Wanda had just enough strength left for one reality-altering trick. When her encounter with Phoenix awakened her to the Multiverse (- Uncanny #1), she perceived-- on some level-- what was to come, and sent me back after him. She's pouring all that cosmic power into -me-... as she weakens, I grow stronger. When she dies, I will vanish. But I will last long enough to take him with me."

Lorna held the other woman's eyes, wondering whether to believe her. "And you became... Morgan Le Fay?"

"That's something of a joke. It fits with Merlin's own delusions, and I think Wanda liked the idea of naming me after an Avengers villain." The sorceress shrugged. "I have attracted my own following. I have only one thought, one plan, one purpose: Destroy the Slayer. Correct the House of M. Make things right again."

"Can you do that?" Pietro asked, groaning.

"In part. Wanda forgot one thing. While her perceptions expanded to the Multiverse, she still only alters one reality at a time. I can kill the Slayer here... but he has been killed in a thousand realities. He will keep returning unless all his incarnations can be slain at once... and that, I cannot do."

"It doesn't sound like anyone could do that," Lorna said.

Morgan looked uncomfortable. "The Phoenix could, if all its power could be brought to bear. He fears and loves the thought of it. But Jean Grey won't do what is necessary. The other way would be to kill him in his nest."

"Here, you mean?"

"No. In your dimension, where he was spawned. We're witnessing the endgame. After a thousand years, he's finally going after the only X-Men who could -really- kill him."

Lorna cleared her throat. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Probably not," Morgan said. "But we must try."

"Yeah, but look at this." Lorna gestured around at the defeated and frightened soldiers. "These people don't want to fight. They were no match for me, and I'm a hell of a lot less powerful than that thing!"

"But they're mostly a diversion." Morgan's eyes drifted toward Mordred, the Black Knight, who had remained silent.

"For what? For him?" Pierto growled. "What good is the bastard son of Arthur against a cosmic destroyer?"

"You should really stop taking your legends so literally." Morgan dropped a protective hand on the young man's shoulder. "This isn't Arthur's son. He's Merlin's."

--

Friends of Moira's loaded up horses, while behind Jean Grey, her teammates prepared for war. She'd helped to the war start months ago, when Wanda's stunt had reawakened the Phoenix. Now she meant to finish it.

Jean stretched out her perceptions-- not far. Here, the shadow was always lurking. She felt something from it. A pang of regret, but not surprise. The Slayer knew what was coming. He'd lived it before.

--Planning a surprise for me, Jean Grey?-- he sent to her. --You'll have to do better.--

--I haven't even started,-- Jean replied.

--I look forward to testing that theory when we meet.--

But she was ready for that, and laughed at him. --It's not you I'm supposed to meet, it's Wanda. Isn't that right? You tried to unite us against you (- see #4). Why would that be, hmm?--

--I've missed you both so,-- said the Slayer, deadpan.

--Uh HUH. It wouldn't have anything to do with your influence over Wanda's power? If you can still control her, even a little... well, she's about the only one who might be able to kill -me- for you, isn't she?--

Jean felt the Slayer deliberating, as though deciding its next move. Its sense was sickly and cloying: --If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead.--

--Perhaps. Maybe you only wanted to weaken me? Take the Phoenix for yourself? That would be all the power you'd need to beat us. That's what Mindee tried to prevent, isn't it?--

The Slayer changed the subject: --Yes, Mindee. Why don't you tell me where to find the little beggar?--

--She's dead,-- Jean said. --You'll pay for every drop of her blood, by the way.--

--Please. What do you think blood is worth to me? I've seen gallons of it, including yours.--

Jean controlled her anger with an effort. --If you want my blood, come and get me.--

--You misinterpret me. All your blood is not contained in your body. Nor are you the only Phoenix.--

--...What?--

The shadow forced a vision into her mind: A glimpse of the future, or... -a- future. Her children at each other's throats. Rachel Grey, enraged, bonding with another reality's Phoenix Force. (- Seen in "New X-Men #6") And something... a wave of stolen power as strong as Jean had ever felt... heading for Rachel.

"NO!" Jean cried. Several of her friends' heads snapped around.

--...so you see, Jean,-- the Slayer continued, --I've got all the Phoenix I can use right now. I'll keep your resume on file.--

Jean felt the fire burning inside, and this time, didn't deny it: --Stay away from them, or I'll...--

--What? It's not as though they're -really- your children. You didn't give birth to them. You only raised Cable in some half-dreamed other life. You barely know Rachel. Why should you care?--

--I care,-- Jean said.

--Really? Well, you know where to find... us.--

He severed the connection. Jean wanted to scream. She felt a hand on her shoulder. Alex, looking concerned.

"Jeannie? What's going on?"

She took a steadying breath. It didn't really work. "Alex, I have to go."

"Sorry?"

"I have to... he -knows- I have to try to help her. He figures, whatever happens, he'll get one of us."

Alex frowned. "Look, we're ready to get moving, so--"

"I'm not going. I have something to do."

"What the hell?" said Alex, grabbing her by both arms. "Jeannie, come on, you're our biggest gun! Besides which, I'm sorry, but... the others only half trust you. Rahne still kinda wants a hunk of your flesh, you know. If you try to back out now, they'll never..."

"They'll understand."

"They won't! Jean, -I- don't understand! You've been so distant."

"I'm playing a longer game--"

"It's OUR game, Jean!" She could feel the energy boiling off Alex as he lost his temper. Anyone else might have burned. "You're the Phoenix. You're the one on the Slayer's level. I -get- that. But we're your friends, Jean, and we matter. We've put everything on the line, and we would... -I- would follow you anywhere. Just... not blindly.

"Trying to protect us alone is what got Mindee killed. I don't want that to happen to you. Let us help."

"You can't," Jean whispered, looking into his eyes, wishing she could explain. "I'm the only one who's been where she is. And... she's part of me. I have to try."

He frowned. "You're talking about... Rachel?"

"Yes. The Slayer's using her, in one of the other realities. I have to go."

"I-- but--" Alex released her arms. "Dammit. Fine. Go on."

Jean took a step away. "Are you sure...?"

"No, I'm not sure! But I'm not going to let Snidely Whiplash kill my own niece, am I? Go on, beat it. I'll explain to the others."

She nodded. "Thank you, Alex. I couldn't have-- You are such a--"

"Don't," he said.

Having no words anyway, Jean stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Lead them, Alex. You know you can."

"I..." He looked at the others, at the horses, anywhere but her eyes. "I never wanted this, Jean. Any of it."

"I know."

She turned and hurried into the woods, unwilling to spare a second glance. She heard someone Rahne calling to her. She ran faster, until she was in a clearing all by herself.

And then Jean Grey cut loose. Fell to her knees and screamed. A wave of telekinetic fire spread outward from her body, scorching the trees and frightening birds from their branches. Their cries were eerily reminiscent of the Phoenix...

--EMMA!-- Jean sent telepathically. --Emma Frost, you ice-cold homewrecking-- ARGH! Whatever you are! Return to me NOW!--

No response. She called again-- still nothing. Jean reached out with her hands, straight into the fabric of the Universe, and found the signature of the portal she sought. She pulled in both directions at once, ripping timein half. The portal reappeared...

...and, a moment later, Emma Frost's astral form with it.

"Must you shout, Jean?" she said. "I heard you the first time; I've been busy. We've retrieved Rogue's team... sans Rogue... and Logan's should be en route... I hope..."

"The future timeline. The one with Rachel in it. Have you been there yet?"

Emma frowned. "That would be Storm's team. As a matter of fact, I was on my way when you threw your little tantrum. Really, Jean, would it -kill- you to act a bit more ladylike?"

"Look who's talking," Jean snorted. "Emma... I'll go to the future for you. I need to see Rachel myself."

"I thought you were staying to retrieve your team?"

"Well, now you're going to have to do that," Jean said. "I know you can't delay. I'll show you how to control it from a distance."

Their eyes met. Both understood there would be no time actually to explain this to a lesser telepath, much less train her to do it. Jean would have to -give- her the knowledge, and the power. A very intimate telepathic contact, requiring absolute trust on both ends.

Emma Frost giggled. "In what Universe is that an option?"

"I need this, Emma. Don't say no. So help me, I will crack your brain open and shove this knowledge into your skull."

Blue eyes turned to ice. "You're serious."

"Completely."

"Well... the conversation's not so different after all, is it, dear?"

Jean Grey studied the ground.

"No," she admitted. Then she did what she had to do.

--

"What was tha' about?" Rahne Sinclair asked, frowning after Jean.

Alex Summers shook his head, was still watching the place where she'd disappeared when he caught the fluttering sound of a cape. He turned to see Polaris touch down in a whirl of green costume, and ran to her.

"Lorna! I was so--"

"Huh," she said, unamused. "I've heard of kissing cousins, but kissing in-laws? Is this 'Hamlet?' Should I fetch a skull?"

He sighed. "Lorna, it's not like that... where have you been?"

"Saving the day, Alex, dear." A smile broke through the mask of annoyance. "Going after the Slayer, are we? Sounds like a plan. Mind if I bring a few friends?"

--

From one of the towers of Merlin's keep, two figures witnessed a ragtag army's advance. Both were mutants, but one wore sorcerer's robes while the other was all but covered in glistening bio-armor and wielded a sword.

"They're coming," said the knight, Galahad. "I didn't believe they'd actually come. Shall I rally the soldiers?"

"No," said Merlin. "It's a diversion. She would never let them fight a war they can't win."

"The blond one killed my father." (- in #3. Sort of.)

Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder. "Patience. Find Kay and Gawain and bring them to the throne room."

"Do you think they'll try to free the king?"

Merlin shook his head. "It hardly matters. The one you seek will come to us."

"What about Bedivere? He's been missing since--" (- his death last issue)

"Forget him."

"He's one of my knights," Galahad said.

"-Forget- him," Merlin repeated, turning back toward the inner chamber. "I have struck the shepherd; now the sheep will scatter into our arms. I've waited a long time for this..."

He hurried back into the castle. Galahad remained, his eyes on the hills. Then he set his jaw and followed.

--

"Careful now, gang. Quiet."

"Who are you telling to be quiet? You're the one making all the noise!"

"I am not! It was Number Three, with his sneezing!"

"I knew we should have left him at home."

"Laugh it up, guys. It's not fair that I'm the -only- Madrox with allergies. How does that happen?"

"If we're getting physical variations, now, can I be taller? Not to mention--"

"ARGH!" snarled Rahne Sinclair, who was in her werewolf state and stuck with a team of five Madrox dupes, plus the original,moving toward the tower where the king and queen were held.

"Shutting up," all five Madri said in unison. Most of them seemed annoyed. Number Four, who was in love with her, looked dejected.

The real Madrox inched closer to Rahne. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish they'd sent the Juggernaut."

"He's needed at the front door." She cocked her head in his direction. "Losing confidence?"

"Never had any."

"Stick wi' me, then. It won't be so bad..."

Rahne wished she believed that. She'd seen Madrox shaken, but not -this- badly, and she didn't know any cure for that except success, which wasn't going to be easy with him in a funk. One worry at a time, she supposed.

She and the Madroxes faded into the background as Jamie approached the door, which was guarded by a couple of Merlin's mutants. The reptilian one boasted a slithery tongue than gave Rahne chills. The other had three eyes; he stepped forward to address Jamie.

"What are you doing back?" he asked, thinking of the traitorous Madrox duplicate.

"Complications," Jamie said.

"Merlin doesn't reward complications. Is the kid dead?"

"Yes," Jamie said, studying his shoes. "Not that it's your concern. Now, let me pass."

"I don't think so. Merlin's orders are that nobody--"

"Merlin sent me, you twit! Come on, I don't have all day..."

The guards glanced at each other; they weren't particularly bright. They parted before Jamie...

"Sssaw that kid at court," said the reptilian one. "Nasssty glow-eyed little freak. Hope you made her ssscream."

"Sorry?" said Jamie, stopping cold.

-No,- Rahne thought. She nodded to the nearest duplicate, and they moved in to back him up.

"I sssaid I hope she ssscrea--YARK!"

This last came as Jamie Madrox shoved a knife into his gut. He doubled over; Jamie grabbed his tongue and yanked.

"Sounded much like that, in fact. More questions? No? Then--"

ZAP! A bolt of energy from the other guard's third eye knocked Jamie flat. The triclops turned to sound the alarm, but Rahne pounced and clawed him first. Then she glared at Jamie.

"Not th' time to work out yuir issues."

"You're not the boss of me," Jamie groaned, accepting her hand up. He frowned over her shoulder. "Uh, Rahne..."

Several more armored mutants were heading for the sound of the scuffle with swords drawn.

"C'mon!" she said, grabbing his arm. She called to the other duplicates: "Hold 'em off, lads! We'll be but a moment!"

The Madri formed a semicircle in front of the tower, ready for battle, while she and Jamie ran up the stairs. Number Four called over his shoulder: "Be careful, Rahne! I-- I love you!"

"Shut th' flamin' hell up," she replied, and ran.

--

Cain Marko had never been much for subtlety. As a kid and well into adulthood, his idea of a well-reasoned dialog had involved punching the other fellow before he could put up an argument. So when they'd drawn up this plan, they'd given him what he liked: The unsubtlest part of the plan.

Cain strode right through the center of town with a large tree slung over his shoulder. Whenever anybody asked him what he was doing, he'd grunt and give a simple answer:

"I'm off to see the wizard."

Considering Cain's size and obvious bad temper, nobody thought to argue with that until he approached the gate, where one of the sentries on the wall called to him:

"Who goes there? Hey-- you! Halt, in the name of--"

Cain Marko laughed as he lifted the tree off his shoulder. "Don't you know who you're dealin' with, pal? I don't stop fer nothin'. I'm the JUGGERNAUT!"

He took off toward the wall, ignoring the arrows and energy blasts that pinged off his armor. With legs pumping and muscles tensed, he plowed through-- CRASH!-- and used the tree to spread his opening a little wider. Then he turned--

A couple of dozen mutants were waiting for him inside, some of them knights. Cain sized them up in about half a second and tossed the tree aside.

"Hell, yer all so scrawny! I thought this was gonna be FUN!"

They charged him as one. Cain started breaking heads. He hadn't cleared out more than five or six of them, when...

BAM! POW! THWAP! WHACK! Something moving too fast to see darted in front of Cain and floored a whole bunch of the suckers. It skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, and Cain Marko frowned--

"Quicksilver, eh? You really on our side?"

"Juggernaut. Are -you?-"

"I'll do, fer now."

"Same answer for me."

"Fair enough," Cain said "But I'm keepin' an eye on you."

Pietro pointed. "Keep an eye on them!"

"Oh." The Juggernaut turned, swung from his heels, and-- WHAM!-- pounded a rocklike creature reminiscent of the Thing. It staggered, then growled and threw a monstrous right cross that knocked Cain's helmet off.

"-Now- it's a party," he laughed, and pitched in.

--

ZRRRRAAAAPOW!

A blast of solar energy caved in one of the windows of Merlin's keep, and Lorna Dane dropped Alex Summers inside. After them came Morgan Le Fay and Mordred, encased in a magnetic force bubble. They looked around, but saw and heard no indication that anyone had noticed their arrival.

"This is too easy," Alex said.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Oh, do you think perhaps he's expecting us? Do you -think-, just possibly?"

"You know, the real Wanda was never this sarcastic."

"As they say in your time: All work and no play makes Wanda reshape the Universe."

"Question before we do this," Lorna said. "You said he's been here for a thousand years?"

"Yes."

"And this kid--" she pointed at Mordred. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," he said.

"Uh-HUH. So he's not Merlin's first kid?"

Morgan shook her head.

"How many of his offspring have you tried to pit against him?"

"A... few dozen," she admitted. "In theory, they're immune to his power."

"Sure." Lorna nodded. "But has it ever, like, worked?"

"Optimism is a system of belief that discards the predictive value of past events," said Morgan, and she swept down the corridor. Lorna and Alex followed, because even if the plan wasn't going to work, at least it was a plan.

--

"GrrrrAAAAARGH!" Rahne Sinclair leaped down on a shape-shifting mutant with claws bared. He swatted her against the wall, but she came right back at him-- until a Madrox fell on her.

"Watch it, ye clumsy--" She trailed off when she realized the poor dupe had a sword through his gut. That made him the second one to drop, and the others had been pushed all the way back through the door and up onto the steps of the tower. It wasn't their fault; Jamie's dupes were just regular men in a fight. Well-trained, but they mostly beat mutant fighters by weight of numbers. Right now, they had no numbers. No extra Jamies came off the assembly line, and without them, the odds kept swinging in the wrong direction.

"Jamie!" she called to the prime Madrox, who was up on the next level, theoretically freeing the royals. "Could ye be persuaded t' move this along?"

"Give me a break!" he cried. "All these keys look alike!"

"Dammit..." Rahne hissed, ducking below a sword swipe. She cut the fellow some new ventilation, and he toppled.

Next came something with squid tentacles that wrapped around her throat and pounded her against the wall. One of the dupes came to her aid, wrestling with the creature-- until a sword cut him from shoulder to hip.

"RAHNE!" he cried as he fell, and she knew it was Number Four.

-Bollocks...- she thought. With a burst of strength, she cut off the mass of tentacles and nearly took the thing's throat. With the last two Madri still running interference, she knelt beside Number Four in human form.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Embarrassed you..."

"No, dinnae worry about that..."

"I'm not..." His breath left him in a hiss. "Loved you. I know -he- doesn't... but I did. Really."

"I know," Rahne said. "Shall I let ye in on a wee secret? I didn't mind..."

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. He smiled, and then he died.

"Hey!" said the prime Jamie, behind her. "Not in front of the royalty, please."

Rahne looked up, turning red-- he'd brought Guinevere, all right, but no Arthur. Rahne cocked her head in unspoken question.

"I locked him back in the cell," Jamie said. "Remember, he was kind of a dork." (- see issues 1-2)

"True tha'," Rahne said.

"He is my husband and king of this realm," Guinevere said.

Jamie shrugged. "Well, once you're on the throne, feel free to issue him a pardon ala Nixon. Right now, I prefer to leave somebody -smart- in power."

"But"
"ARGH!" said one of the duplicates, who fell to an energy burst. Jamie clutched his forehead as though suffering a migraine. The remaining dupe filled the gap, but he was dueling five at once.

"Little help here!" he cried.

Rahne turned to Madrox. "Jamie, we need more dupes, or we'll nae get out o' here alive!"

"Rahne, I told you, I -can't--"

"TRY, dammit!"

Jamie glared at her. Again he looked at his hands, dirty and calloused after weeks in this backward dimension. He winced as though praying, shutting out the world, or just anticipating pain.

"HURK!" said the last dupe, getting run through.

"JAMIE!" cried Rahne, morphing back to werewolf state to place herself between the guards and Guinevere.

"I'm sorry," Jamie said, which at first she took to mean he wouldn't help. Then he turned and smashed both fists into the wall; his bellowing nearly drowned out the noise of several knuckles popping. He sank to his knees...

"Ouch," said one of the two duplicates who'd appeared beside him. "Also, we'll take it from here..."

--

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The Banshee soared over the walls surrounding Merlin's keep and threw himself into the fray, his scream causing those below to duck and cover their ears.

Sean Cassidy wasn't supposed to be here, in a couple of senses. Firstly, he still felt lost. Secondly, his deal was with Mindee Cuckoo, who was apparently dead, poor colleen. Thirdly, he had promised the others he would remain behind, with Moira. But he'd found he couldn't stand looking in her eyes anymore. Their final exchange rang in his mind, even if his ears were taken up with the scream.

"Sean," she'd said, touching him gently as the woman he'd known would have done, "what it is, laddie? Yuir a million miles away..."

"I'm sorry I hurt Rahne," he'd replied. "I had only a moment... an' I was so scared of losing yeh again..."

"Well," the woman said, "no harm done. The wench had it coming."

No harm done. She'd had it coming. That was when he knew.

Moira MacTaggart might have forgotten her love for Sean. She might have forgotten who she herself was. She would -never- have forgotten Rahne Sinclair, whom she'd regarded with genuine mother's love. Apart from her science and helping the X-Men, that girl was her world. At any time, in -any- reality, Moira would not have blithely accepted anything that did her harm. Sean simply couldn't believe it of the woman he knew. So this was someone else.

"I have ta go," he'd said.

"Ach, yuir a mad Irishman! I'll nae be responsible for--"

"No, yeh won't," he said. "I'll ask only one more thing from yeh, m'dear."

"Oh?" Moira asked, crossing her arms and looking defiant. Too perfect a forgery for Sean to endure.

"Kiss me once more," he'd said. "Kiss me as though it were real."

She'd started to object, but whoever had played this trick had duplicated their connection better than Moira's with Rahne. She'd bestowed the kiss, and he'd gone off like a knight to fight for his lady, and now here he was. Here to die with his friends, because he really didn't see anything else.

He swooped into the fight, hitting the ground a few meters from the Juggernaut, and SCREAMED to knock one of the hooligans off him. Cain Marko turned and grunted.

"You keep poppin' up, don'tcha, Irish? I didn't know better, I'd think you wuz tryin' to spoil my fun."

"If yeh can't use a hand, I'll happily wander off to th' nearest pub..."

"Aw," said Cain, "might as well stay for the finish..."

BAM! He knocked a mutant knight halfway across the courtyard, but two more appeared in his place. A little distance away, Sean saw another knot of combatants holding Pietro Maximoff by both arms while he struggled to get free and use his speed. Their eyes met across the square. Not long ago, Pietro had beaten Sean mercilessly (- issue #3), causing much of the pain he still felt. Pietro didn't expect him to help, didn't even -want- his help. It would -humiliate- Quicksilver to accept such help.

Sean smiled. SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Soldiers flew every which way, and Pietro returned to cutting down opponents with his super-speed. But he managed to look unhappy about it.

--

Alex and Lorna took the lead as they strode into the throne room, with Morgan and Mordred behind them. Merlin sat at the far end of the room, casually draped over a borrowed throne, with the most formidable of his remaining knights-- Galahad, Gawain, and Kay-- arrayed before him.

They squared off almost unconsciously-- Alex with Galahad, the powerhouse, Lorna with Kay, the metamorph, Mordred with Gawain, the Sunspot knockoff. Morgan ignored them all, her eyes fixed on Merlin.

"BUTCHER!" Galahad cried, swinging his sword down on Alex.

ZRAAAAAKOW! He got blasted across the room for his trouble, sliding the last few meters, an ugly stain on his bio-armor.

"Let's not do this," Alex said.

"It's too late," said the knight.

"You're wrong. It's too late for your father. It's not too late for you. You can turn this around."

Galahad scoffed and returned to the attack. Alex dodged, meeting Lorna's eyes across the room as Kay tried to shift past her magnetic fields. He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to be ruthless, to use his power the way he longed to use it, to finish this without danger to himself or his friends. But Alex didn't want to do that... yet.

Anyway, his team was doing well. Lorna had Kay outclassed, and Mordred's swordsmanship exceeded Nightcrawler's; in moments, he disarmed and ran through his opponent. Lorna wrapped hers in iron bands and smashed him against the far wall. Both turned to help Alex, but he waved them back. Still not yet.

Merlin-- the Slayer-- stirred. He strode into the center of the room, raised his hands, and blasted with his borrowed power. Lorna was knocked off her feet. Mordred seemed immune as advertised, the same way Alex was immune to his brother Scott's powers. Morgan blocked the energy with some kind of hex-shield.

Alex still had troubles. He ducked beneath a slash that gave him a nice flat-top haircut, and pounded solar-enhanced blows into Galahad's midsection. The knight still didn't stop coming. -NOT YET.-

Morgan advanced, pouring hex bolts into Merlin's shadow while he countered with burst after burst-- a dozen different powers coughed up by an evil sponge. At first Morgan parried, then began to weaken. Lorna added her power to the act, tossing every bit of metal in the room at him, which he barely parried before it could touch his flesh. The two women together could just barely hold him off.

"Mordred! Do it NOW!" Alex cried.

It happened fast: A stroke of Galahad's clipped Alex's leg, and he fell.--

Mordred stepped forward with sword raised--

Merlin, smiling, lifting his hands--

And incinerated his own son, burning him from the inside-out with black fire while he screamed. Morgan's mouth worked in unspoken shock.

"Immunity," said the Slayer, "interesting concept. It might have worked if all my power stemmed from this vessel. But of course, most of them don't anymore. I have become so much more than you think I am, Morgan... more than she -made- me..."

"What-- are you?" Galahad asked, staring at the Black Knight's withered body while his sword remained an inch from Alex's throat.

"None of your concern," said the Slayer. He blasted Morgan across the room. She hit the wall hard and seemed to discorporate as she slid down. Nothing remained but her cloak to hit the floor.

Alex and Lorna shared a look. Did that mean Wanda was dead? Or had she just given up a game that wasn't working? But presently Lorna had more to worry about, as the Slayer stood over her, smothered in shadow.

"Now the X-Men," he said, and reached for her.

Galahad frowned at Alex. He removed his sword and nodded.

-NOW-, Alex thought. He Slayer and unleashed his full power on the Slayer-- every drop of it, without mercy. It seemed enough to light up a small sun. The creature turned from Lorna, looking surprised, even as the freak radiation storm swept away his physical body, leaving only traces of bones.

But the shadow didn't die. It lifted up and away from Merlin's body, swirling around the ceiling, -laughing- in their heads. Then it opened a portal of its own and vanished.

In the sudden, eerie silence, only Alex, Lorna, and Galahad remained. Alex helped Lorna to stand-- to the surprise of them both, she didn't step away, but pressed against his chest and leaned her head on his shoulder, like in the old days.

"It's not over," she breathed. "We only killed Merlin. Just the vessel. The Slayer part got away."

Alex nodded. "It's over for -these- people, anyway."

"What now?" said Galahad, but nobody had an answer.

--

Now

Moira Kinross, along with her companions Guinevere and Galahad, stepped away from the newly-crafted monument and grave, still pondering that question. They had a world of their own, one unrelated to these X-Men, and it still needed saving by those who remained. Moira sighed, remembering Sean Cassidy...

For a moment, in the odd light, she thought there were four of them on the road: Her group and a small, hooded form. Moira caught a glimpse of blonde hair and glowing eyes. The girl smiled at her, lifted a finger to her lips in a "Shh!" gesture, and faded from sight. Moira rubbed at her own eyes and decided it was the worry of the last few days, playing tricks on her. After all they'd been through, she wouldn't be a bit surprised.

END

The “eXcalibur: Eternity” series will conclude in “X-Men Eternity: The Crossroads,” a giant-size crossover between all 5 series, coming soon (in a new story file)!

Then, get ready for the premiere of our new series, Generation: Eternity!