So, yes, no doubt this is very much long awaited by many people who had been reading my profile, and knew this was coming. The first chapter is always the hardest to write for some reason, but here it is. A bit earlier than I intended to, but I figure it's ready to go. I intend to update this story weekly, at least. This story begins pre X-Men Evolution Season 1.
Chapter 01: Arrival.
Loud footsteps thundered in the distance. A group of heavily uniformed army personnel chased a dark haired youth through a maze of abandoned buildings in a bad part of a town. The young man continued to gain further speed, but he was finding it rather difficult to give the men and women chasing him the slip.
There were two things that were very plain to anyone who was watching.
The first thing was this young man was not from around here. His dress when he arrived indicated this, and raised the alarm for suspicion from eyewitnesses. He managed to swipe some clothes that would allow him to be more inconspicuous, but first he had to shake these people off. That was easier said than done.
The second thing that was obvious was that he was way over his head, and pretty much running on fumes. All he had was his wits, and any survival instincts he could manage with. There were a few tricks up his sleeve, but he was reluctant to use them, at least until the time was right.
The chase continued, and the young man dodged behind a fence area. He allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath. He wiped his dark hair away from his face. His hair was normally messy, and quite unruly, but it was more so since he had arrived here. It was a hair style that people would notice right away.
His breath continued to become more and more labored. He rushed forward, trying to shake off his potential pursuers, and the whirling of helicopters from above indicated that more people had joined in on the chase. He ran as fast as he can. Eventually, he would run out of room, and his back would be against the wall.
The dark haired young man wondered where he was going anywhere.
Harry Potter had no idea how he got himself into these messes sometimes. It defied all conventional logic. He honestly did not go looking for trouble, but trouble seemed to find him.
And he had never been in more trouble in his life. The military of wherever he was continued to chase him. There was a bit of a misunderstanding a while back, but they shot first. Harry just defended himself.
He continued to pick up the pace. Breathing came harder. Yet, he tried to push on. Despite being a wizard, Harry's stamina had certain limits. Through the ability of magic, he was able to push himself past those limits. Utilizing magic could be a tricky process; especially the kind of magic Harry was intending to do.
A few warning shots fired in the air. Harry remained alert, and ready to defend himself should the shots get too close for comfort.
"Freeze right there, and come quietly!"
Harry deflected the bullets back before they could hit him. They disappeared into the air, much to the shock and surprise to those people who fired to him.
'I really wish I didn't have to do that,' Harry thought to himself. His heart sped up a little bit, as the situation continued to grow more serious. 'Now, they're going to have even more reason to come after me.'
Harry felt he was perfectly justified in defending himself. For the past year at Hogwarts, he had been pushed around by that foul woman. He had his skull cracked up by Snape with torturous teaching sessions, and now he was being chased halfway across the desert by this military.
He was not about to take it anymore. There was only so many times he could be knocked around, before he determined enough was enough.
A purple shield appeared around him, and it blew everyone back. Desperate times called for desperate actions. He never tried this before. In fact, he was warned that there could be dire consequences if an untrained wizard tried this type of magic.
There was no choice he felt. Either he got blown to bits, or he was ripped in half when he failed to apparate. It was do or die. He closed his eyes, and disappeared into the night.
He felt like he was being squeezed through a very thin tube. The urge to vomit visited him immediately, but he shook it off. The important part was that he was here, and he was safe.
Harry made a mental note that he still preferred flying.
At least through he was in one piece, and Harry wiggled his fingers and his toes to verify this. He slumped against the wall, and inhaled and exhaled heavily. The arrival, and then the chase had winded him.
At least he had given these people the slip. At least for now, but something told him that it was easier said than done.
It was never that easy.
Now he had to figure out where he was. Harry allowed himself a look around, to try and puzzle out where he was. He needed to find this important detail out, for it would be the key factor of piecing together a way to get home.
Harry picked up the pace, and continued to press forward on his journey into mystery. One instinct of survival he picked up was never to stay in the same place for too long, especially when he was being chased. He learned that the hard way during his childhood with Dudley and his gang. Stick around one area for too long, and it is too easy to get cornered.
The street signs indicated that Harry was in New York, in the United States of America. A country he knew very little about, other than of course there was an entire ocean between it and the United Kingdom. Also, he knew that despite technically being the same language, there were some slight differences between American English and British English.
Harry remained on his toes. He kicked a newspaper on the street in the air .The newspaper was called the Daily Bugle, and had the headline, "Spider-Man: Threat or Menace" on it. Harry scarcely paid attention to this. He had to keep moving, no matter what. His heart slowed down at least. He was not sure if magic users could drop dead from a heart attack, a stroke, or suffer any other Muggle ailment.
It was not wise to use himself as a living test subject to prove or disprove the mortality of a witch or a wizard.
"You seem lost, lad."
Harry turned around. He saw a very outlandish out man wearing a blue suit. He had grey hair and thick glasses. He had a bright, grandfatherly expression to him, and Harry relaxed.
"You aren't a secret government agent, are you?" Harry asked, finally finding his voice.
The man chuckled. "I tell you, if I was, I wouldn't be doing a very good job of keeping a secret if I told you."
Harry nodded, but he remained on his guard. He learned many valuable lessons, but appearances can be deceiving and always be on your guard seemed to be one that stuck out in his mind more often than not.
"You're not from around here, are you?" the old man asked.
"No, I'm not, I just flew in a while ago, and I was wondering when the latest subway train was," Harry said, remembering that in the United States the term for Underground was subway.
"You just got here in time," the old man said. "Subway leaves in fifteen minutes. I'd hurry if I were you."
"Thanks," Harry said.
"Not a problem, kid," the old man said. "Hope you enjoy your stay. Stay strong, true believer. Excelsior!"
Harry stopped, pausing for a minute, and shook his head. This was a rather strange man, but he had no time to dwell on that. While he was sure he had given the military the slip, it was prudent for him to keep moving.
He recalled how he arrived here. It seemed like ages ago. Harry remembered those moments in the Department of Mysteries, and took a deep breath, moving towards the subway. He used a few small spells to bewitch the guards into allowing him passage on the train. The past year, he learned a great deal about magic, while preparing lessons for the D.A.
Looking at his grades, one might consider Harry Potter to be an underachiever, especially given his status. Which in a way was true, but Harry managed to find the motivation to learn what he could when it mattered. Most of the time, he did struggle to find the motivation.
Harry made his way onto the train. There were tired looking businessmen who were commuting from their jobs. The sun was going down, so it must have been very late.
Now that he had a moment to sit down, Harry had time to reflect on the past day's events. He honestly had no idea how much time passed between the moment he stepped through the veil, and the moment he woke up in the desert somewhere in the Southwest United States. He shook the cobwebs, and remembered the split decision he made to get here.
Now, he regretted it, mostly because the perilous situation he had been put in.
'Live and learn, Potter,' Harry thought to himself.
Harry could see it from his vantage point. His godfather, Sirius Black, engaged Bellatrix Lestrange in battle. If he was not too concerned with staying alive himself, he would have had a moment to appreciate a good spectacle of dueling between two skilled magic users. Even through Bellatrix was twisted, he had to give the devil her due.
Sirius let up on his attack for just one moment. His taunting voice echoed throughout their chambers in the Department of Mysteries. "Ha, you're going to have to do better than that…"
Bellatrix did do better than that. She shot a stunning spell at Sirius. He thought all would be okay. Sirius staggered through a mysterious curtain and fell through it.
During times like this, everything went by in super slow motion. Seconds could seem like hours.
Time stood still, and Harry waited for him to come back. He continued to wait. Sirius did not get back up, and resume the fight. In fact, his form mysteriously was sucked through the curtain. Harry waited, but Sirius did not return and pop back up, to rejoin the fight.
"Sirius!" Harry yelled, unable to believe that the closest thing he had ever had to a parent had been blasted back like he was nothing.
This had to be a nightmare, but this was far worse.
This was reality.
The cruel and taunting laughter echoed throughout Harry's ears, and Harry scrambled forward, nearly tripping over his feet in the haste. He had a hero complex as big as Hogwarts. He knew that if he somehow passed through this veil, he could save Sirius. Or at least he thought he knew.
He heard Remus's yells for him to stop. In another life, Remus would have been able to hold Harry back, to prevent him from going through the veil.
In this life, Harry slipped by, and continued his sprint towards the veil. He felt himself drawn closer. Any second thoughts left him the moment where the rattling sounds behind the veil, the whispers drew him forward. His heart sped up, and he knew what he had to do.
He took the plunge. Harry Potter dove through the veil.
On the other side of the veil, he saw nothing, but darkness around him from all sides. Everything changed, and he became unsettled.
Harry could not hear anything, touch anything, smell anything, or see anything. His senses had been shut off once he hit this void, and Harry Potter had no sense of himself.
The next thing he knew, a blinding flash of white life engulfed him. The whispers of a thousand torment souls attacked his psyche, and then something from inside him was being ripped apart. The only sensation he could feel was his scar, and it was much like if a hot poker had been jabbed into it, and then twisted in.
Harry was pretty sure he screamed in absolute agony. Yet, he could not hear his own screams. This caused his mind to be unable to piece anything coherent together. He groped the air, and wondered if this was the price to pay through stepping through this mysterious veil. He wondered if he had been condemned to live a life without any senses.
Time once again crawled to a near stop.
The throbbing pain in Harry's head ceased, and he heard an inhumane shriek in his head. He had no idea if he grabbed his head or not, but he made an honest attempt of doing so. The shriek became more pained, like there was something suffering in his head. The yells ceased after several spine chilling moments.
Another wave of blinding light engulfed him, and this time Harry blacked out completely from what occurred. His mind shut down. He wondered if this was what the end was supposed to be like.
There was nothing, but black. Harry had no sense that he ever existed for the next several moments.
The next thing Harry knew he was face first in the sand in the middle of the desert. He was dressed in wizard robes, which was never a good sign if he was seen by anyone from the Muggle World. Shaking his head, he tried to regain his bearings. He flexed his fingers. At least they did not seem to be broken, which was an encouraging sign. He rolled over, trying to shield his eyes from the sun beating down on him.
Harry pulled himself to his feet. He winced, rubbing his side. At least his ribs were not cracked. He had cracked ribs before, and it was not a picnic. He pivoted on his feet, and Harry rubbed his forehead. He heard the sound of helicopters in the distance, and they landed in the desert. Several uniformed figures stepped forward.
He had not been awake for five minutes, and already he was at the business end of several guns.
'Of course,' Harry thought to himself in despair.
"Hands in the air where we can see them!"
Harry held his hands in the air, right where they could see him. He also found out that he had no wand with him. That was a potentially problematic situation, and he took a deep breath. Harry tilted his wrists upwards, and a blast of bright light blinded the military troops.
He shook his head. It had been a long time since he had performed that kind of accidental magic.
Harry was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He had only one instinct, and that was to run.
Harry reminded himself that they started it. They were the ones who pointed the guns at him, and they were the ones who threatened to shoot at him.
The grenades were uncalled for as well. Harry picked up the pace, and sped forward. Instincts beaten into his head throughout his childhood gave him a good sense of when to dodge projectiles that had been thrown at him. He continued to run as fast as he can.
He had to give these guys the slip.
They were making it very hard, and continued to run on sheer instincts. He needed a plan, but avoiding getting shot was high on the list of details he needed to put in said plan.
Harry shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Something happened to him when he stepped through the veil in the Department of Mysteries.
'What is that thing anyway?' Harry thought to himself. 'I thought for a moment that I was going to die. Slowly, and painfully, but somehow I blacked out, and ended up some place else. And why in America of all places? Well, I guess I'm going to have to get some answers when I get back home.'
Harry took a deep breath. Running through the veil had been a stupid impulse, and desperation was the biggest reason. He had rushed through the veil, without any thought of what was going to happen afterwards.
He laughed. Despite the fact that the Sorting Hat thought he would do well in Slytherin, actions like that made him worthy of the Gryffindor house. He shook his head, and peaked around the corner. So far no one had figured out that he had gotten on this train due to less than ethical means. As long as he kept his head low, and did not attract too much attention, he could hopefully get out of here.
'I have to find my way back,' Harry thought to himself. 'The thing is I don't know how long I was gone. Any amount of time could have passed since the time I left through the veil, and the time I got here.'
His mind flashed through the near-fatal injuries many of his friends had received in the Department of Mysteries. His stomach turned when he thought of the curses the Death Eaters used against them all. And he sensed that they were holding back just a little bit, out of fear that they might get Harry. Thus if they struck Harry they would incur the wrath of Lord Voldemort.
Harry took a deep breath. All he hoped for was everyone got out of there in the end, and got the medical attention they needed. They never should have come with him. If they died, the blood would have been on his hands.
It was not a game. Things seemed to be so much simpler before, but a troll in the girl's bathroom almost seemed like a lifetime ago.
Harry shook his head. He could not worry about that right now. For once, he had to put himself and his needs first and foremost. Then he could worry about others, once he was safe and out of the woods.
A thought struck Harry suddenly. If he passed through the veil, and ended up here, would Sirius have potentially ended up here as well?
He had no idea. He strained to remember any hint of how he got from Point A to Point B. He struggled to remember, but he came up with nothing.
The train stopped, and Harry decided that it was best for him to get off. There was no need to arouse suspicion. He stepped around into the shadows. He craned his ear, hearing the radio in the distance.
"…A young man, around fourteen to sixteen years old has been sighted moving across the United States. Witnesses state that he appeared out of nowhere. The boy is hostile, and may be armed and extremely dangerous. Do not approach him under any means. If you see this young man, call your local law enforcement immediately. The young man is between the age of 14 and 16 years old, and has unruly black hair and green eyes. He has been reported to shoot an energy blast from his hand, potentially some kind of concealed weapon."
Harry winced. That was not good at all. He sped up his movements, careful not allow anyone to get too close of a look at him.
He was in this country for only a short amount of time, and already was spiraling up the most wanted list in record time.
Harry stepped forward, and kept to the shadows. He heard the hushed whispers. He pulled the hood of the jacket he stole over his head. Thankfully he was able to disappear into the crowd of people, before anyone noticed any resemblance to the fugitive young man.
He snorted at the claims that he was dangerous. Last time he checked, they pulled their guns on him first.
Harry slipped forward, and saw a street vendor selling food. When no one was looking, Harry waved his hand, and the vendor's eyes glazed over. Harry managed to help himself to a hotdog, some chips, and a soda.
It might have not been the most nutritious meal, but Harry was on the run. There was little time to nitpick about nonessential details such as nutrition.
Harry pulled a face. The food didn't taste the best, but he managed to force it down. He took a few steps forward into the shadows. He heard the whispers in the distance. The uniformed personnel crowded around.
"Split up, the suspect was spotted here!"
Harry decided to give them something to chase. Even though that someone would not be him, as he sent a loud bang into the air. It was a diversion charm that he learned during the past year, when looking up spells to teach the D.A.
It worked like a charm, no pun intended. They moved in to circle the sense of the disturbance. Harry gathered that he would not be able to keep up the charade for very long. He had to keep moving, and find a place where he could lose them.
Only then, could he take the very necessary step to find a way back home.
Harry shook his head. He might want to find out the date. If only he could have gotten his hands on a newspaper long enough, he would have been able to piece together that essential little fact. He slid across the floor, quick as a cat, and continued to speed up his movements.
He slipped into a park. There were children playing in the distance, and a dog barking. The sounds of laughter filled the air, and Harry knew that it must have been getting very late.
Nothing happened, at least not now. Harry took a few steps forward, and managed to climb up a tree. He struggled, but somehow he managed to get up on the tree. He perched himself on the branches. This was not the most comfortable perch point in the world, but it would have to do.
He watched from above. He could see people searching for him in the distance. As long as he made no sudden movements to alert anyone that he was here, he was perfectly safe and secure.
Harry made a mental note to learn Muggle repelling spells the next chance he got. They would have been very useful at this point.
He wondered if the United States magical government would piece together what happened before too long, or even recognize him. Harry had no idea what witches and wizards from America were like, but he hoped that something could be sorted out.
As stubborn as he might have been, Harry did realize something very clearly. No matter how much he would like to think it would be different, he could not run forever.
Once night fell, he would keep moving. The cover of darkness would hopefully keep him from being caught.
In the meantime, he was marooned in America with no money, no allies, and no means to contact home.
He was pretty sure he had been in a worse fix, although he had no idea what it might have been. It would have been a lot easier if he would have had his Invisibility Cloak, but it was back at Hogwarts in his trunk and thus not able to help him.
A bald man dressed in a suit sat underneath helmet. The man sat in a wheelchair, having lost the use of his legs some years ago. He currently was focused intently on a strange energy signature that had just popped up a number of hours ago.
The man's name was Professor Charles Xavier. He was the headmaster of Xavier's Institute for the Gifted. He was a man with a dream that many thought was impossible.
There were an ever growing number of people with special gifts, and they increased with each passing year. For lack of a better term, they would be mutants. Some might consider them to be freaks of nature, but that was a concept that Xavier would hope to correct over time. As much as he loathed to admit it, there were some humans had had the knack of fearing those that were different from them.
Someday, he would hope to be able to bridge the gap between mutants and humans. Right now, he settled with trying to help younger mutants understand their gifts, and train them to use those gifts safely. Xavier knew that when their gifts had manifested, many were absolutely afraid. They had no clear idea how to cope with everything that was happening to them, and how their bodies were reacting strangely.
Xavier chuckled, thinking that could be an apt metaphor for many changes. He had been afraid himself when his powers manifested. Hearing the thoughts of other people had been an alarming experienced. At least until the moment where he learned to block it out, and control it. It was much like closing a dam, and it took a long time before it was as simple as breathing.
His experiences were something that drove his ambitions, and his dreams to create this school for the gifted.
Right now, he focused on the strange energy signature he discovered a short time ago. Cerebro managed to pick it up, but it was not like any other reading he had ever seen in his life. It was completely odd and it fluctuated in an erratic manner.
'Strange,' Xavier thought, and he tried to lock in on the energy signature. 'I can't quite pinpoint what this young man's mutant power is, but I can sense that he's alarmed greatly about something.'
A new arrival pulled Xavier out of his thoughts.
A short man with dark hair, wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans stepped in. His name was Logan, even if his past was a mystery, especially to him. He was known primarily as Wolverine.
"You've been locked up in here for over two hours," Logan said. "What's up?"
"A strange visitor," Xavier said.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the reports of the mysterious kid that's been popping up all over the news all day," Logan said in his usual gruff voice.
"We can't rule out a correlation," Xavier said, and he shook his head, to try and get a fix. "His gifts are unlike anything that I have ever seen before."
"You're not the only one who noticed, Chuck," Logan said. "The government's out for this kid's blood, and…they're chasing him like he's some kind of animal."
"It's possible that he's scared about the discovery of his powers," Xavier said, and he turned around to face Logan. "We must locate him immediately, and try and calm him down."
"Easier said than done," Logan answered gruffly.
Xavier just offered a ghost of a smile. "It always is."
The doors leading to the room with Cerebro slid open. In the room walked a dark skinned woman with white hair, dressed in black. Her name was Ororo Munroe, but her codename was Storm. This was because of her uncanny ability to control the weather. She took a tentative step forward.
"Hello, Ororo, I'm glad you could join us," Xavier said with a smile. "A new mutant has arrived the scene, but his power is unlike anything I have ever seen. I have been unable to pin down a name, or any details regarding him."
"What are his powers?" Ororo asked.
Xavier shook his head. This was going to be more difficult to explain than he would have thought.
"That is the problem," Xavier replied. He took a deep breath and continued to speak. "His powers appear to be energy manipulation of some sort, but exactly how or the limits I'm uncertain of. I wish for you and Logan to track him down, and bring him back to the mansion. Be careful though, he may be confused about his powers, so he may lash out if he considers you a threat. Try and take the more diplomatic approach if you can when inviting him to come here."
Xavier's eyes turned to Logan. A small smile appeared on Ororo's face, when Logan gritted his teeth and shook his head.
"I know, Chuck, I understand, this isn't my first go around," Logan remarked, and he leaned back against a wall, casually. "So we get the kid, and then what."
"Just bring him back here, and we give him the choice whether or not to stay or not," Xavier said. "It does appear that he's on the run, so if he has any friends and family, he may fear their reaction due to his powers. And try not to attract the attention of the various government agents hovering around."
"Sounds like a kid who attracts a lot of attention," Ororo commented.
"Yes, unfortunately," Xavier agreed. "You know what to do by now, I will be in contact if anything else comes through on Cerebro."
Ororo and Logan both nodded. They made their way towards the Blackbird.
"Saw a few images of the kid on the news that they were able to pick up," Logan grunted. "He doesn't look too dangerous, but things aren't always what they appear to be."
Ororo nodded. She knew what she had to do to remain on her guard. She joined her teammate on the Blackbird, and it took flight. They were determined to locate this young mutant, before he became some sort of government lab rat, or hurt someone.
Harry figured that he should be sleeping, but his mind was racing a mile a minute. Sleep was hard to come by when he could barely think. He tried to clear his mind, but found it rather hard to do. He took a deep breath, and climbed down from the tree he was perched on. He was beginning to develop a slight cramp in his leg.
He took a deep breath, and stepped forward. There was no one in the park. He reminded himself that he had to get his hands on a newspaper, or at least find out what the date was.
Harry noticed something right away. Now that he had time to rest, he noticed for the first time he had no glasses. They must have been lost when he was knocked through the veil.
For some reason, his vision was perfect. Not to mention, he saw better than he ever did when he had glasses. He wiped his hand to his forehead, wiping the sweat from it.
He stiffened immediately. He spotted several more government troops rushing in. Harry threw himself in the bushes, hoping that would hide him from them. He crouched down as low as he could. He could not even chance breathing too loudly. He listened in carefully on what they were saying.
"This kid's a slippery one, isn't he?"
"What do you think he is?"
"I don't know, maybe he's some kind of extra-terrestrial."
"That would explain the weird energy blasts from his hand."
"Where do you think he went?"
"I don't know, maybe he phoned home or something?"
Harry continued to listen in. They stood around his hiding spot. He would have to stun them to get out of here. The problem was, he suspected that there were dozens more nearby. He chanced a slight look around. Two of the government agents talked in hushed tones.
"We don't know what he is, or how to stop him?"
"He's running scared though."
"Yeah, he is, but that could be just survival instincts. Or him luring us into a false sense of security, but I don't know. Fury wants him alive, for questioning. The crater he left in the desert had energy spikes that were off the charts."
Harry had no idea who this Fury person was, but if he sent these guys after him, then he was sure that he would not like this guy. The dark haired wizard allowed himself a moment to breath. He knew that he could not stay here forever, but at the same time, he could not let them capture him.
There was a time for thinking, and a time for action. Harry made a split decision, and decided that now was the time for action.
He blasted the bushes around him, and caused splintered pieces of wood to fly in every direction. This allowed him a momentary distraction to rush off. Harry quickened the pace, and continued to run.
He heard loud voices from behind him. Harry was sure some of those agents suffered injuries, some potentially fatal. Since he was tired, hungry, and lost, Harry found his sympathy at the lowest level possible.
Harry very nearly escaped them. He was a few inches away, but a wall of troops blocked his path. There were eight of them, and he prepared to fight them.
Before Harry could do anything, the guns had been pulled from their hands. He blinked, and a chain link fence was wrapped around the troops. They were pinned into place, and Harry's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
He was doing some really weird accidental magic all day, but he was sure that he was not capable of something like that.
Harry turned around, and saw a figure dressed in purple and red. He had a helmet covering his face. Pieces of metal swirled around him, and the helicopter above was being ripped apart and thrown around.
"You have caused quite a stir, young one," the mysterious man said. "Do not be alarmed, child."
Harry frowned. If there was one thing that he detested, it was being called a child.
"You have special gifts, which means you are above the limitations of humanity," the man continued. "And your gifts in particular have caught the eye of many. You will help the next evolution of this world rise above humanity. Your gifts will aid the cause when they are fully mastered."
Harry eyed this man suspiciously. He decided to ask the obvious question.
"Just who are you?" Harry asked.
"You may refer to me as Magneto," the man said. "And we have much to discuss as it pertains to your future."
To Be Continued in "Recruitment."