PART ONE
NEW ELITES
I get dressed rather quickly. The bruises on my body sting as I peel off my work out clothes, my body still sweaty as I pull on my "super suit". I've only worn this one once before. I have one I keep at the school that's more casual, but this? This is my X-Men suit.
It's a dark red, a form-fitting body-suit with long sleeves and black gloves that go over the top of it. There's a huge, golden X on the front of the suit, with golden accents down the legs and up the sides of my ribs. When I choose this color scheme and design, Scott turned pale, while Rachel, my older sister, nervously laughed, her green eyes that look so much like mine (eyes my Dad can look into) unable to meet mine. They both left the room abruptly, and I thought I could hear sobbing through the thin walls.
Emma told me I looked like my Mom.
I leave my room quickly, my black boots clicking on the tiled floor. I meet Rogue as she walks out of her own room, an excited, but cautious, a smile on her face, her big hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head, her unruly bangs escaping and curling against her forehead. "Hiya, Squirt," she drawls, walking beside me, her arms brushing mine. She's not scared to touch me, my powers negate hers, and she's one of the only people here who touch me voluntarily. "Are yah excited to go find this new mutant?"
"You bet," I reply, a soft smile on my face as we walk up to the X-Jet. We freeze in our tracks as we see Logan standing by the plane, a surly look on his face as he talks to my Dad. Dad seems to be clenching his fists, Emma placing a calming hand on his shoulder, but eventually relaxes and relents. He's letting Logan come with us to find the new mutant. I can hear it. He doesn't want to, of course, that's to be expected as he kinda hates Logan. I think it's because he and my Mom were close. Rogue told me they almost got together when my Mom and my Dad were taking a break. I wish Logan was my dad.
I skip up to Logan as my Dad and Emma board the ship, Magento seemingly staying home. "Hey, Logan," I breathe, a big smile spreading across my face. "Are you coming with us to find this new mutant? Aren't you too old?" I tease.
Logan relaxes, leaning against the side of the plane, his brown eyes bright. "Haha, very funny kid," he says dryly. "You do know that I have control over your training schedule, right?"
I blanch, and I hear Rogue chuckle behind me. I turn to see her standing a few feet behind us, her arms crossed, her eyes gentle and soft. "Logan," she greets quietly, walking up and standing by me. "I-it's good to see yah."
I can hear the turmoil and feeling of betrayal in Logan's brain. When the schism happened, and you either choose between Utopia and the Jean Grey School, Rogue chose Utopia. From what I can gather from Logan's thoughts, he was heartbroken and felt betrayed by the actions by some he considered a daughter. She means well, I whisper in his mind. If you can't forgive her, just, please, don't make a scene, okay?
I can hear him grumble in his head, but feel him relent. Fine, he replies gruffly. Just to make your life a little easier, kid. I can hear the unspoken meaning in his words. Anything for you, kid. Anything for Jeanie's daughter.
"Rogue," he finally replies, crossing his arms. "Takin' care of our little bird here?"
She nods, her bun of unruly hair bobbing. "You betcha'," she replies, taking note of his stiff position, her shoulders deflating slightly like a forgotten birthday balloon. "Just like you did for me, Logan."
He makes a sound of acknowledgment, before turning to walk up the ramp into the plane. "C'mon, Sang, let's get seated, the plane's gonna take off soon."
I can feel the hurt coming off of Rogue in waves, and I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze, sending her comforting thoughts, before following Logan up the ramp. I get seated beside him, my Dad and Emma in deep of conversation as Rogue climb into the cockpit. I breathe in deeply as the plane takes off, my eyes fluttering closed.
It's time to go bring my new friend home.
It's time for me to no longer be alone.
~~~
The area is a mess as we land, the ground a patchwork of broken ground and pits of lava. Logan swears as the plane touches the ground, the earth rumbling and groaning underneath us. "Jesus Christ, Emma, do you know what this kid's powers are?"
She shakes her head as she unbuckles her seatbelt, shakily getting up from her seat. Her body turns into her diamond form, and I can see myself reflected in her skin a million times over. "No, I have no idea," she responds in her posh British accent, turning slightly to see Rogue climb out of the cockpit, her skin a little green.
I move towards the door, but I'm stopped by my Dad, and I can tell he's glaring at me even though he's wearing his stupid vizor. He opens the door, and we step into what looks like a war zone.
You can tell it was a neighborhood before Dakota Lee happened. All the buildings are either on fire, in ruble, or both. And right in the middle of this chaos is Dakota.
His body is made out of pure lava and magma, his body burning the asphalt road as he curls up into himself. Heat pours off of him, and the air seems to be full of static, bolts of light occasionally shooting off of him. Steam billows off of his body, like your breath on a cold winter's day. The area around him is a bubbling mess of asphalt and lava and magma and dirt and soil and- and what looks like bone. We cautiously make our way over to him, Rogue and Logan situating themselves protectively around me while my Dad and Emma take the lead.
There's something in me that's crying out when we get close enough to see him. His whole body is shaking with sobs, the tears falling from what I think is his face sizzling off of his molten arms. Help him, something whispers inside of me as I unconsciously move away from my two protectors, up to the two frontrunners.
"Dakota?" my Dad calls, stopping right outside the bubbling pit of lava. "Can you hear me?" Silence. "Dakota, my name is Scott Summers, and I'm a mutant like you, and I can help-"
"No one can help," I hear coming from the mess of magma, and I flashback to my own powers manifested and how useless I felt and how I alone I felt. "God has forsaken me."
You have to help him, Sang, that little voice is more insistent as I try and keep myself from jumping across the boiling pit and helping him. I'm now standing next to my Dad. This your destiny, this what you are made for. Help him.
"Hey, Dad," I say, my gaze locked on the boy. "I think I can help him."
I don't wait for a reply as my powers latch onto Dakota's, and I feel my body burst into flames as I step onto the magma. I don't fall. I can hear screaming behind me as my feet sizzle on the lava. I don't stop.
I can hear Dakota's thoughts as I make my way across the flames. He thinks I look like Jesus, or some avenging angel of fire and flame. My lips quirk into a smile as I make my way through his mind. Likes to be called Kota. Very religious. Been taught by his church that being is a mutant means you're going to hell (now, isn't that familiar). His mother and sister are the most important things to him and they aren't here. He killed his father when he tried to kill his family. He killed a man today with his flames. He feels like he's on fire. His skin feels like it's boiling. He wants to die. He is scared. He wonders if God still loves him. He is scared.
"Kota," I call as I make way over to his huddled form, my tongue a thing of fire and magma. His face turns up like a blind man looking for the sun.
"Are you here to kill me?" he asks, and suddenly I can see his green eyes through the mess of magma and lava that is his face, that is his body. They are wide and sincere and as I process his words I can see the fear in them, the apprehension, but the reverence he holds for this godly figure before him. I look at myself through his eyes, and I can see why he's making a godly comparison. My body is made out of living magma, like his, but you can see my skin through it, see my veins of gold. My hair is made out of pure heat and steam, curling and hissing against my colder skin. My eyes are made out of pure electricity, steam following from my lips. It's like I'm looking at what Kota could become. "Are you Ariel, the angel? Or you one of the apocalypse?"
"No," I reply softly, seeing the chaos rage in his mind. I squat down and meet his eyes, flames bouncing off of my skin onto his. "My name is Sang. And yours is Kota, isn't?"
He blinks slowly, as if he is waking up from a hundred year's sleep. "Yes," his tone is as slow as syrup, the ends of his words slurred as he tries to speak with a burning tongue. "How do you know my name?"
I give him a smile, or what I hope is a smile. I can't tell what my burning mouth is doing. "I'm like you, Kota, I'm a mutant," I can see the look of horror and confusion and disgust in his eyes, and I send him a wave of calming thoughts. "I know that you thinking, that this is some sort of curse but it isn't." Not anymore.
Steam falls from his nostrils as he flares them, a bolt of electricity spilling from his body. "You're lying," he spits, and I see the lava boil up around us. "T-this is my punishment for killing my father, for being a shitty human being, for being so inadequate-"
I'm losing him.
His green eyes are starting to disappear into his face, a sea of lava and despair. "Stop it, Kota," I command, and he does, his eyes going wide as I let his mutation drop from everywhere but my feet and my hands. "Kota, this isn't a punishment, or retribution, or God's sign that you're sinful. T-this is a gift," I struggle to get my words out as my throat starts to swell with emotions. "This is a sign that you're meant for something more from your regular life. This a sign that we're not dying out anymore. This is a sign that you, Dakota Lee, are a gift from God to our kind," I grab his hands, and I hold back a gasp as I feel power start to roll off me in waves. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, like something deep inside of me was activated when I touched him, and now this thing in me is sending off waves of calm, calm, calm, like it's calming both his mind and powers. I can see the magma start to harden on his face, the madness disappearing from his eyes.
Kota freezes for a moment as he comprehends my words, the power from my body pulsing off of me, his hands clutching mine like a lifeline, tears welling up in his eyes. I'm a gift from God, I'm a gift from God, I'm a gift from God. These words repeat in his head, over and over and over again until I see him begin to calm. The lava around us stops boiling, and starts to curl, the ground no longer shaking. And suddenly, it's a boy who crouches below me, his hair a light chestnut, his clothes in tatters and hardened magma falling off of him.
I let his power fall from me in a flash, and I help him up, his whole body shaking. "T-thank you," he gets out, and his body falls against me. I hold him up with a huff as he wraps his arms around me, mumbling those two words under his breath over and over again.
I awkwardly pat his back, my cheeks heating up with a blush. "It's okay, Second," I say, as he pushes himself up. I keep a tight grip on his hand, in case he falls again (that's what I tell myself, but it's nice to hold someone's hand, especially if they're cute). "Someone did the same thing for me, and I'm willing to do the same thing a hundred times over."
He tilts his head in confusion, his green eyes crinkled as he gives me a small smile. "Second?" he questions.
"Yup," I nod. "I'm the first new mutant to appear, you're the second. Second," I explain, and he nods in understanding, his eyes distant as he takes in the destruction around him. The destruction he caused. I recognize the vacant look in his eyes. Rogue saw that same look in me as I saw the mangled bodies that lay on the ground. The bodies I killed. "C'mon, Kota, let me go take you and introduce you to the rest of the X-Men."
I keep my tight grip on his hand as I lead him through the landmine of his creation. I manipulate his mind so he doesn't see the destroyed neighborhood around him, or the mummified bodies that I can see on the street, trapped in cooled lava and asphalt. No needs to live with that. I don't need my Second to be as fucked up as I am.
They're silent as I lead him back, looks of amazement and worry on their faces. My Dad rushes up to me as soon as I step off of the hardened magma, his hands wrapped tightly around my shoulders, frantically searching me for injury. I see Logan behind him, poised in the same position, questions hanging from his lips. But my absent father beats him to it. "Oh, Sang, sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, the words tumbling from his lips. "Are you hurt, is he okay, did he hurt you?"
Before I could answer any of his questions, Emma gasps, her eyes a fading white. "T-there's been another light. In North Charleston. And we need to hurry... His name is Victor Morgan and there's already a death toll."
AN: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! This is my gift to you ❤️