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            As the next stage in human  evolution, mutants face a world that hates and fears them. Leading the charge  for peace are Professor Charles Xavier and his X-men. They stand against those  who would insight war and now they’re taking on an even greater fight in the  realm of politics. They seek to show an evolving world that they are not to be  feared. 
            It isn’t an easy sell. Not  long ago, Charles Xavier’s old friend turned rival, Magneto, nearly brought the  world to an end by directing an asteroid into a collision course with Earth.  The X-men stopped him and were able to prevent further violence by negotiating  a truce between Magneto and the governments of the world. But this truce  remains fragile. Anti-mutant sentiment lingers and continues to be a major  issue surrounding the upcoming presidential election. The X-men continue to  work hard, but at the same time they also have to contend with ongoing personal  issues. 
            Among those issues involve a  blossoming relationship between Wolverine and Storm. After his encounter with  Sinister, Wolverine became distant and nearly left the team. But Storm  convinced him to stay and by reaching out to them, they become much closer. While  their newfound romance is growing, issues from the past continue to plague them.  And it isn’t just Wolverine who has a shady history that still affects him.  
             
            
                
            
            Nairobi, Kenya – 15  Years Ago 
            “Stop! Get that little thief!”  
            The commotion erupted in the  crowded Nairobi marketplace. The  streets grew chaotic and hoards of people scattered in confusion as these  alarming calls rang out. It was not an uncommon occurrence for this part of  town. Thievery was to be expected in any crowded area where goods were openly  displayed, but that didn’t stop some from fighting back. 
            “Somebody seize that girl!” yelled  the merchant who had just been robbed. 
            “I see her! She went that way!” yelled  one of his co-workers, pointing to an alley. 
            The two men chased after the  thief, but they didn’t get far. The bustling crowds slowed them down, forcing  them to push and shove their way across the street. It wasn’t long before they  fell behind, allowing the small thief to slip further away. 
            Unknown to either of them, this  thief was no ordinary thief. She was a 12-year-old Ororo Munroe, a recently  orphaned child who was doing everything in her power to survive. And part of  that survival involved stealing. It was not a trade she was proud of, but when  hunger and desperation set in there were few options. Her only advantage was  her nimble form and small stature. Few would ever expect a meek-looking girl  such as her as being a thief, but it was a sad reality in which she had to  live. 
            While the men chased after her,  she slipped into a dirty corner with the goods she had stolen. She didn’t take  much, only some fruit and some nuts. She hugged the precious food close to her  and waited for the men to pass. She closed her eyes, bracing herself from  whatever may come. She soon heard loud footsteps. She wasn’t sure if it was  them, but she didn’t dare open her eyes until it was safe again. 
            ‘When does the nightmare end?  Why Mommy? Why did you and Daddy have to die? Why couldn’t I have saved you  from that fire?’ 
            As the little girl huddled and  prayed for her survival, she didn’t notice a new figure standing over her.  
            “You can open you’re eyes now.  They’re gone,” said an unfamiliar yet calm voice. 
            Ororo tensed as she opened her  eyes and backed away. To her relief, the voice wasn’t from the men she stole  from. It was from a teenage boy a few years older than her. He had Arabic  features including dark hair, tanned skin, and dark brown eyes. He was also wearing  a strange veil around his body that bore a series of mysterious symbols. He  didn’t look threatening, but was still intimidating in a unique way. 
            “Who…who are you?!” the young  girl demanded. 
            “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt  you,” he said as he kneeled down to her, “My name is Amahl Farouk Jr. And I  have to say I’m impressed. You carried yourself well back there. For a girl of  such small stature, you have a natural gift for thieving.” 
            It was an odd compliment. Ororo  had never been commended for stealing before. She wasn’t sure what to make of  it, but this boy seemed sincere. 
            “I…I didn’t want to steal it,”  she said as she laid out the food she had stolen, “But I’m hungry. I’m alone.  I…I have nowhere to go.” 
            “You don’t need to be sorry. This  is a cruel world and there are times when people suffer…good people who don’t  deserve it. Stealing is merely a byproduct, a means of survival. You’re doing  nothing wrong.” 
            Ororo gazed at the young man  suspiciously. Nobody had ever described stealing in such a way before. She was  brought up to believe it was wrong like everything else, but so much of her  upbringing had been lost. At this point she was open to anything that would  ease her suffering. 
            “Why are you telling me this?  What do you want from me?” she asked him. 
            The young man smiled as he sat  down next to her. Taking a piece of fruit, he sliced it up as he gazed at her  in a friendly if not affectionate manner. 
            “We have something in common, you  and me. I’m also a thief. I’m part of a very special class of thieves run in  part by my father, Amahl Farouk Sr. We call ourselves the Shadow Kings.” 
            “The Shadow Kings? I’ve never  heard of them,” said Ororo. 
            “And rightfully so. We tend to  keep to ourselves. But we’re always on the lookout for others for whom stealing  is a way of life. And you, my dear, have potential.” 
            “Me? But I’m just a girl. I only  steal to eat.” 
            “It does not matter who you are  or how young you are. The Shadow Kings do not discriminate. We welcome anyone  who has potential. And I see plenty in you.” 
            Ororo blushed a bit, not sure how  to take that. A reassuring gesture helped calm her down. It was the first such  gesture she had received since the loss of her parents. 
            “You don’t have to do this alone.  The Shadow Kings can help you. They can make you more than just a thief. We can  give you a home. We only ask for your trust and your loyalty in return. Give us  that, and I promise you will never grow hungry again.” 
            He continued to smile as he gave  part of the fruit to her. It was an offering of sorts, an assurance of his sincerity.  It was a gesture Ororo reluctantly accepted. As she bit into the fruit, she  found herself making a fateful decision. 
            “Tell me more,” she said, “How do  I become a part of the Shadow Kings?”  
             
            
                
            
            Xavier Institute – Ororo’s  Room 
            Night had fallen over the  institute as much of the team slept after another exhausting day of training  and class. Ororo was among those in need of extra rest. Between new  relationships, teaching, and missions she had plenty of catching up to do. But  it was not to be. At around four in the morning her rest was interrupted by her  ringing cell phone. 
            “Bzzt! Bzzt!” 
            “Hnn…” 
            Ororo let out a tired groan as  she shifted under the soft sheets of her bed. She kept her eyes close, still  half asleep while she reached over for her phone. She fumbled a bit at first,  nearly knocking the phone off her dresser. She managed to catch it before it  fell and clumsily answered it. 
            “Hello?” she groaned, still lying  down. 
            “Hello Ororo…it’s been a while.” 
            The sound of that voice jolted  the African woman out of her drowsy state. It was impossible. It had to be a  dream of sorts. There was only one such person whose voice she recognized with  such fervor. 
            “Farouk?! It…it can’t be! You’re…” 
            “Dead? Oh come now Ororo, you of all people should know that death is  but another obstacle for one such as I.” 
            “But…” 
            “I’ve no time to explain myself. I’m calling because the Shadow Kings  need your help. And you are the only one powerful enough to do so.” 
            “If you’re trying to flatter me  into joining again, it won’t work!” 
            “Oh I’m very serious. And you will help me. There’s no way around it.” 
            “What makes you so sure about  that?!” spat the angry woman. 
            “Because you have too pure a heart, Ororo. Naïve it may be, you will  not allow yourself to simply brush this off. I can give you any number of  reasons, but you already know the most important ones. So save yourself the  trouble.”  
            The former thief fell silent.  Even after all these years that voice still sent chills down her spine. Few  could evoke such anger and hatred within her. But as much as she dreaded that  voice, she knew he was right. 
            “What do you want, Farouk?” she  said bitterly. 
            “Gather whatever resources you have and get on the next plane to Morocco. The Shadow Kings are facing the gravest of  threats.”  
             
            
                
            
            Casablanca, Morocco – Café 
            Irene Adler didn’t travel much.  Being blind and chronically tired from visions of the future did not mix well  with airport security, delayed flights, TSA pat-downs, and baggage checks. On  the rare exceptions she did travel, it was always for a good reason. 
            Her visions had taken an unusual  twist lately. The future, it seemed, was approaching a major crossroad. If  certain events unfolded as she had foreseen, then the consequences would be  grim. She had similar vision before the uprising on Genosha. She had another  one before the asteroid incident. Yet this new vision had the potential to be  worse than all previous visions. 
            Sitting patiently at a local  café, Irene sipped a cup of tea while sampling some of the fine African  cuisine. She was outside on a balcony, the commotion of various people walking  by echoing from just below. It was hard for anyone to pick up a single  presence, let alone someone who was blind. But she soon detected a presence  sitting down in the chair across from her. 
            “You’re late, Raven,” Irene  greeted, “I was starting to worry.” 
            “Oh come now, Irene. You should  know by now that I can take care of myself,” replied the shape shifter, who was  disguised as a balding, middle-aged, bearded man in a business suit. 
            “I can’t help it sometimes. When  the only images you see are the morbid scenes of a scorched Earth, worry is only  nature.” 
            “Those visions won’t persist for  much longer. Not if everything continues as planned.” 
            “I take it your excursion in Cairo  was a success? If not at little messy even?” said Irene. 
            “Do you even have to ask?”  grinned Mystique. 
            Irene felt a mild touch of  relief, but her expression remained stoic. Raven was always a reliable fighter  even if she wasn’t the most subtle. She could only imagine the kind of  destruction she left in her wake after breaking into that Shadow Kings cell. The  means she used to extract the  necessary information from the people inside was probably worse. Such was the  price they had to pay for preserving the future. 
            “So what’s next?” the shape  shifter asked, “According to a very generous thief I conversed with, the cell here in Casablanca  has the diary. They keep it under heavy lock and key at a villa near the  coast.” 
            “That’s the old Farouk estate,”  said Irene. 
            “Yes, I’ve heard of him. He has  quite the reputation among the Shadow Kings. Or used to at least.” 
            “Careful with your choice of  tense, Raven. The Shadow Kings have been known for surprising people with their  resilience,” warned Raven ominously. 
            “As if it matters,” scoffed the  shape shifter, “Dead or alive, I’m breaking into that villa and I’m taking that  diary! Azazel and I had our differences, but he trusted me to finish what he  started. I’m not going to let him down. I owe him as such for giving me Kurt.” 
            There was a noticeable shift in  her tone. Irene understood better than most the complicated history between  Raven and Azazel. For a while, there was quite a spark between them. Azazel  certainly had a flame for her. She sensed Raven had one as well, but it was  incomplete. She never loved him in the way he loved her. She never understood  why, but when Azazel revealed he was using her in part to father a child that  destroyed any potential for the two of them. 
            It was a shame too. Irene  sincerely wanted her friend to find love. She was such a desolate woman for  reasons that even she could never understand. She long suspected there was  something deeper to her bitterness. But whatever the cause, it didn’t stop her  from maintaining her loyalty. 
            “I would still urge you to use  caution, Raven,” said Irene seriously, “You have no idea what kind of tactics  the Shadow Kings may employ. Since you butchered your way through that last  cell, it’s likely they’ll take even greater precautions this time.” 
            “I’ll deal with it,” said the  shape shifter sternly, “I just wish I found out about this diary sooner. Azazel  left quite a mess behind after his untimely departure. He sure could have saved  us a lot of trouble by just giving the damn thing to me in the first place.” 
            “Azazel has a long list of  enemies. He probably thought he was protecting you by hiding it,” reasoned  Irene. 
            “As if I ever needed protecting,”  scoffed Raven, “Tell me, Irene, how can a man who by his very definition is  more than a man still make such foolish mistakes?” 
            “It really doesn’t matter whether  he was a man or a god. He did what he did for a reason. And that reason always  came back to his primary mission.” 
            “I know. He was up against forces  far greater than him,” muttered Mystique with dripping sarcasm, “Any chance  this diary will finally reveal what those forces are?” 
            “There’s only one way to find  out, I’m afraid,” sighed Destiny, “My visions can only go so far. If we’re to  learn the full extent of this threat, we must get that diary.” 
            Mystique muttered a string of  curses in frustration. This diary had better be worth the trouble. She had  plenty of other issues she would rather be dealing with, namely her kids. But  Azazel was willing to sacrifice everything to stop whatever it was he was  fighting. If nothing else, she had to know what the father of her child had  died for. 
            “Damn you, Azazel,” she said  under her breath as she got up from the table, “I’ll get to work. Stay in touch  and call me if you have another vision.” 
            “I will,” said Destiny with a  nod, “Good luck, Raven.”  
             
            
                
            
            Xavier Institute – War Room 
            Ororo paced anxiously as she  stood in full uniform watching over the War Room monitors. Besides her was  Professor Xavier, who was still in his pajamas and looking very tired. It was  five in the morning and this impromptu call caught him off guard. But upon  learning the details, he was quick to act. Having known the more personal  details of Ororo’s history, he understood the seriousness of the situation. 
            But she wouldn’t be handling this  on her own. Others would have to be involved for more personal reasons. After  an abrupt wake-up call, they finally arrived. Among them were Rogue, Remy, and  Kurt. They were all still in their pajamas as well and looking every bit as  drowsy. 
            “Whoa boy, five a.m. on a Saturday morning. This got to be a crime in  some states,” groaned Remy. 
            “Tell meh about it,” said Rogue  as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, “What the heck is this about? Somebody  better be dying.” 
            “I’m sorry,” said Ororo as they  sat down at the table, “I know this was supposed to be our morning to sleep in,  but something serious has come up…something I do not trust myself to handle  alone.” 
            “Calm down, Miss Munroe,” said  Kurt with a tired yawn, “You know ve’re always up for helping a fellow X-man,  but vhy single us out?” 
            “Because, Kurt…it involves Mystique,”  replied Professor Xavier. 
            That revelation definitely helped  wake Kurt and Rogue. They hadn’t heard anything from their mother since the Genosha  incident and that was probably a good thing. Her past attempts to use them left  plenty of bitterness and they were far from over it. 
            “Ah hell, there goes mah  weekend,” groaned Rogue, “What in the heck is she up to this time? Blowin’ up a  bus full of nuns?” 
            “Not quite, but it certainly  involves explosions,” said Ororo as she brought up an image on the holographic  computer, “A few hours ago I got from an old acquaintance of mine…one I hoped  to never hear from again.” 
            “That be a mighty long list,  Stormy,” commented Remy, who was still groggy. 
            “It involves the Shadow Kings,” she  said in a more serious tone. 
            Now it was Remy’s turn to be  surprised. 
            “Aw hell, please tell Remy you’re  joking,” he groaned. 
            “I wish I were,” she said grimly. 
            “Zhe Shadow Kings? You mean the Shadow Kings?” said Kurt in  amazement, “Vhy in God’s name vould zhey call on you?” 
            “Because Kurt…I’m one of them,”  Ororo revealed. 
            The younger German mutant gasped  at this revelation. It was hard to believe this compassionate woman who so many  looked up to had been associated with the likes of the Shadow Kings. It seemed  too outrageous to be true, but the look in her eyes said it all. 
            “Wait, back up a minute!” said  Rogue in confusion, “Who the heck are the Shadow Kings and why is that such a  big deal?” 
            “Don’t make light of them, cherè.  The Shadow Kings be some serious shit,” said Remy, who knew of them as well,  “They’re a loose but powerful bunch of thieves that leave their mark no matter  where they be.” 
            “So what? They’re another clan  like the Thieves Guild?” said Rogue. 
            “Not exactly,” said Ororo, her  tone becoming more distant, “The Shadow Kings are not like gangs, guilds, or  thugs. There’s no family or tradition. It is, ideally, an organization where  like-minded thieves can come and refine their thieving skills. They don’t  coordinate so much as they encourage their trade. It was here where I learned  how to become a skilled thief and where I found a home after my parents died.” 
            “Sounds too much like an Oceans  Eleven knock-off,” said Rogue skeptically. 
            “They’re more than that,” Ororo  went on, “Yes, they are thieves, but they’re not thugs. Not all of them  anyways. They are involved in a great many secret endeavors.” 
            “Zhat’s putting it mildly,” said  Kurt, “My father vorked vith zhe Shadow Kings. He had mixed views about zhem to  say zhe least.” 
            “He’s in good company,” said  Ororo, “I could spend hours talking about the mystery surrounding the Shadow  Kings, but we’re short on time! Show them, Professor.” 
            The African woman turned to the  Professor and nodded. Using the War Room’s computers, he brought up a number of  news images from Egypt.  They depicted what looked to be the remains of a building in the middle of a  slum. 
            “About 12 hours ago, a Shadow  King den was attacked in Cairo,”  Xavier explained, “As you can see, there weren’t many survivors. Luckily, the  building was sparsely populated and the destruction was only secondary.” 
            “Let meh guess, that’s where  Mystique comes in?” said Rogue bitterly. 
            “I can zhink of few others who  vould be brazen enough to attack zhe Shadow Kings,” said Kurt. 
            “She certainly appears to be the  culprit,” Xavier went on, “Cerebro detected her signature in the area around  that time. It’s likely she was behind the destruction.” 
            “But why would she attack the  Shadow Kings?” questioned Remy, “Mystique don’t strike me as a woman who just  be picking random fights.” 
            “That we’re not sure of, but near  as I can tell nothing was stolen from the building. So theft wasn’t her goal.  There was no one prominent in the building either so assassination is unlikely  as well. But we do know she’ll strike again and the next time will surely be more  ambitious.” 
            “And how do we know that?” asked  Rogue. 
            “Remember that call I got?” said  Ororo, “Well it was from someone who is highly regarded in the Shadow Kings. He  says he knows what she’s after and he knows where she’ll strike.” 
            “And you believe this man?” said  Kurt. 
            “Oh yes. If anybody would know of  such an attack, it would be him. And he wouldn’t have called on me specifically  if it wasn’t serious,” said Ororo confidently, “As such, we must go to Casablanca  and stop Mystique before she carries out her next attack!” 
            “You mean you want to help the  Shadow Kings? Why?” asked Rogue, “Ah’m all for annoying mah mama, but Ah  thought you said you cut your ties with these folks. And they don’t sound like  the friendly type the X-men go out of their way to help.” 
            Ororo shifted uncomfortably. She  understood what she was suggesting seemed counterintuitive. The X-men were  supposed to oppose thieves and deviants, not aid them. But there was more to  this than just defending the Shadow Kings…much more than she could ever comfortably  reveal to her friends. 
            “I know it does not sound too  appealing. I…can’t get into details, but I have to do this,” she said strongly,  “I want you involved because I know Mystique is a personal matter for you. If  she’s up to her old tricks again, I’m sure you’ll want to be the first to  oppose her.” 
            “You got meh there,” sighed  Rogue, “Guess any trouble Mystique causes will find its way back to us some way  or another.” 
            “Indeed,” said Kurt, “Ve’ll be  happy to help, Miss Munroe. Our mother, misguided she may be, is still our  responsibility.” 
            “But what about Remy? Why you  want Remy involved in this, Stormy?” questioned her Cajun friend. 
            “We’re dealing with professional  thieves, Remy. The way I see it, two former thieves are better than one,” she  replied, “And you do owe me a number of favors if I recall.” 
            “Right…always with the favors,”  muttered Remy, “Is we ever gonna be even?” 
            “We’ll discuss it later,” said  Ororo as she got up from the table, “For now, I need three suited up and ready  to go in fifteen minutes. I’ll prep the X-jet for takeoff. Mystique is probably  preparing her attack as we speak!” 
            The African woman didn’t give the  others time to question her commands. She promptly stormed out of the room and  towards the hanger. It was strange seeing her like this. Usually, she was so  calm and collected. This whole Shadow Kings issue must really be personal for  her.  
            Professor Charles Xavier couldn’t  help but be concerned. Unlike the others, he had a more intimate understanding  of her history with the Shadow Kings. He still remembered how deeply it  affected her. It played a major role in leading her to the X-men. He hoped she  wouldn’t have to go through some of the darker parts of her history. But as was  often the case with them, the past had a ways of coming back to haunt them. 
            “Dang, is she gonna be alright?”  wondered Rogue. 
            “She’ll be fine, cherè,” said  Remy, looking very worried as well, “Stormy is a tough woman. She can handle  this, although she might not handle it rationally.” 
            “That’s exactly why she’ll still  need our help,” said the Professor as he powered down the computer, “Go get  suited up. I’ll try to uncover more about this situation from Cerebro. I have a  bad feeling there may be more to this than Ororo was told. We had best find out  before it’s too late.”  
             
            
                
            
            Outside War Room 
            Ororo left the War Room focused  and determined. She didn’t take charge often, but when she did there was little  that could stop her. It was part of what made her a good X-man. It was also  part of what made her a good thief with the Shadow Kings. She sincerely  believed she was done with thieving. A big part of coming to America,  going to college, and joining the X-men was her getting away from that life.  But as every thief knows, it’s a life that is impossible to completely escape. 
            She didn’t like that she was  doing this. A part of her actually wanted Mystique to barge in and destroy the  Shadow Kings where they stood. But as Farouk himself stated, she had to do it.  There was no avoiding it. As she made her way to the hanger, she encountered an  unexpected presence along the way. Right outside the War Room, she came across  Wolverine who was casually leaning against the wall in his sleeping attire. 
            “Mornin’ darlin’. Going out on an  early stroll?” he said in his usual gruff tone. 
            “Logan!”  said a very surprised Ororo, “I uh…didn’t know you were up.” 
            “Sleep is overrated,” he  shrugged, “Plus I figured something was up when I heard my girlfriend running  down the hall at four in the morning.” 
            “I’m…sorry if I worried you. I  don’t have time to explain, but…” 
            Logan  quickly cut her off. 
            “You don’t need to go into it,  Ro. I overheard the cliff notes in the War Room. I know you’re going on a little  trip down memory lane. And seeing as how I’m already up, I wanna go with you.” 
            “You…really don’t have to do  that, Logan,” assured Ororo, “This  is a personal matter. I can handle it.” 
            “Like I haven’t heard that before,” he muttered, “Seriously  Ro, if we’re gonna be seeing each other naked on a regular basis we may as well  get involved in each others’ lives. The way I see it, I owe you one after  coming after me when I tried to leave. And before you tell me to back off you  should know I can be just as annoyingly persistent as you.” 
            There was a coy sarcasm in his  tone. Yet he sounded dead serious. He wanted to help her and he wasn’t going to  take no for an answer. It put Ororo in an awkward position, not unlike the one  she put him in recently. It was ironic in many ways. It seemed fitting though.  For a battle like this, she would need someone like him both for his fighting  skills and for his moral support. 
            “Okay, I suppose I should save  myself the trouble,” she sighed, “So long as we’re going to be together, we  should share in each others’ troubles.” 
            “And we’ve been dealing with mine  so damn much lately it hardly seems fair,” he said with a wolfish grin, “Plus,  I don’t mind busting a few heads to wake myself up in the morning.” 
            “I’ll bet, but if you’re going to  help me with this I need you to take it seriously, Logan,”  said Ororo in a sterner tone, “This is very personal for me. And just to give  you fair warning, you may learn of some less than pleasant details of my past.” 
            “If that’s what I gotta do for a  babe like you, I’ll deal with it,” said Logan,  giving her an affectionate gesture to reinforce his point. 
            His words and demeanor earned him  a smile, a major feat given her current state of mind. Jean once told her that Logan  may have his faults, but when it comes to his girlfriends he’s as dedicated as  they come. It was one of the many developing aspects of their relationship and this  was sure to be their first test. 
            “Thank you, Logan,” she said  warmly, “I really do appreciate you helping me with this.” 
            “You can make it up to me  tonight,” he said with a dirty grin, “Besides, I’m lookin’ forward to a rematch  with Mystique anyways. She and these Shadow King goons sound like a clusterfuck  waiting to happen.”  
             
            
                
            
            Secret Azazel Manor – 4 Years Ago 
            Raven Darkholme wasn’t used to  seeing Azazel so distant. His demonic appearance and intimidating disposition  always made him so difficult to read. There were few forces on Heaven and Earth  that could worry him like this. This was one of those rare occasions where even  a figure of his power couldn’t escape his fate. 
            “Stop giving me that look, Azazel!  I’m not cutting my monthly visit short to just watch you stare out the window!”  said a frustrated Mystique. 
            “I’m sorry, my love. I’ve had a  lot on my mind as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he said in a low tone. 
            “I’m sure you have,” replied the  shape shifter dryly, “Six months and you’re entire organization is falling  apart! While you’re busy going on meaningless quests for non-existent  artifacts, your enemies have been making new allies! Now you’ve got the Hand,  Black Tom, and even the Shadow Kings plotting against you!” 
            “I know what I’m up against,  Raven. But I had no choice! Those artifacts you speak of were not non-existent. They are vital to the  success of my mission,” said Azazel bitterly. 
            “Are you referring to the mission  to weed out our competitors or the other mission you refuse to tell anyone  about?! Because from the looks of it, you’re failing at both!” 
            Azazel’s demonic face tensed. Few  people had the nerve to speak to him with such disrespect. But Raven was a cut  above anyone else he ever encountered. It was part of what he found so alluring  about her. It was also part of what aggravated him to no end. 
            The tension continued to escalate  as silence fell over them. Azazel finally rose up from his chair and turned to  the fuming shape shifter. His usually stoic demeanor gave way to a strange mix  of sorrow and frustration. He reached out and caressed Mystique’s face. The  gesture didn’t soften her demeanor, but it did calm her down. He could tell she  was thinking about Kurt. Like it or not, their son was destined to play a part  in this. 
            “Please Azazel,” Mystique said in  a more serious tone, “I can’t take these secrets anymore. I have to know the  truth! You’ve kept them from me and Kurt for too long.” 
            “You’re right, my love,” he said  solemnly, “You, Kurt, and even little Marie deserve so much better. I should  have told you long ago just as I should have told you my initial reason for  being with you. But please understand I had good reason for keeping it a  secret.” 
            “I’ll be the judge of that,” she  said sternly, “I don’t care that you’re the Lord of Limbo. I got roped into  this mess and I’m not going to go down with it.” 
            “I have no desire to see that  either,” said Azazel, now with both hands on her shoulders, “I know you may not  care for me as much as I do for you, but believe me when I say I will do  everything in my power to protect you and Kurt.” 
            “Then tell me!” she restated,  “Spit it out so we can be done with it!” 
            “I would need an awful lot of  spit,” he replied, “There’s a lot to tell, but if I am going to reveal the  truth I want both you and Kurt to be present. He’s back at the manor in Munich  with the Wagners. Go to him and I’ll meet you there in an hour. This is a  family affair. We’ll handle it as a family.” 
            Mystique’s expression shifted  under his gaze. As mixed as her feelings were for this man, she was tied to him  in so many ways. They were as close to family as she ever had. He was the  father to her son and the reason why she had Marie in her life. Seeing that  powerful look in his dark, demonic eyes reminded her of what she was a part of. 
            “Very well,” she said as she  pulled away from his grasp, “I’ll go to Kurt. But you better be there!” 
            “I will, my love. I promise,” he  said. 
            The shape shifter left, now off  to find her son. As she exited the room, Azazel’s gaze grew distant again. He  never expected his mission to bring such emotional strife. He was not a figure  of this mortal world. But he endured so many mortal struggles. Such was the  consequence of a being such as him. 
            However, his greatest regret was still  to come. As much as he wanted to do good for his family, his fate always found  a way of catching up with him. While standing in his daze, a communicator in  his pocket started beeping. With his usual demonic fortitude, he answered it  despite the grim knowledge he knew it would entail. 
            “Go ahead,” he said. 
            “Lord Azazel, I’ve just received  word that Black Tom is on his way.” 
            “Has he come prepared?” said  Azazel cryptically. 
            “If by prepared you mean  coming with an entire contingent of Hand assassins, then yes.” 
            It was not good news for him or  his organization. Black Tom and the Hand were both allies of his enemies. Their  presence could only mean one thing. 
            “What should we do, my lord?” 
            “Prepare my elite guard,” Azazel  answered, “Divert all our forces to this area and make sure Raven and my son  get away.” 
            “But sir, at our current levels  we won’t…” 
            “Don’t argue with me! Just do  it!” he yelled with demonic fervor. 
            It was a tone none of his  acolytes were foolish enough to argue with. Even though such an order was  foolhardy, they loyally obeyed. 
            “Y-Yes sir. I’ll prepare our  forces immediately!” 
            Azazel put the communicator away.  He knew what was coming. He could sense it in his demonic core. So much of his  purpose had already been fulfilled. Unfortunately, there were some tasks he  would never complete. Raven was partially right. He had failed in his mission,  but that didn’t mean his enemies had to win. He still had a son with his legacy  to carry on and a mother plenty tough enough to handle it. 
            ‘I’m sorry, Raven. I’m sorry, Kurt.  But it looks like I’ll have to break my promise. I trust you’ll carry on  without me. You’ll have to or the world as you know it will be lost.’  
             
            
                
            
            Outside Farouk Beach Villa 
            It was a stormy afternoon over  the coast. Winds were sweeping in from the east and causing choppy waters  outside the opulent Farouk Beach Villa. It was not the kind of weather to go  out and take a stroll along the beach. But weather or no weather, the facility  was heavily guarded. Getting inside was not going to be easy. 
            Mystique was scoping out the  villa from afar. Perched atop a rocky ridge about a half-mile away, she scanned  the area for possible points of entry. What she saw here was a far cry from  what she saw back in Cairo. This  place was not meant to be subtle. It was mean to dissuade anyone who wasn’t a  Shadow King from breaking in. The whole perimeter was lined with elegant gates  that were clearly electrified for added security. The grounds were well-kempt,  but monitored closely with cameras she saw sticking out in the rocks. In  addition, there were a number of Shadow King guards walking the grounds. Like  the thieves in Cairo, they wore the  distinctive black cape with the Shadow King emblem on the back. This place  wasn’t meant to be a fortress, but it was certainly guarded like one. 
            The shape shifter held back an  angry grunt as she watched these glorified thieves walk about, acting as though  they were any better than typical thugs. They were not mercenaries like her and  they weren’t criminal overlords like Azazel or Black Tom. They were their own  little fraternity, a collection of thieves just looking to get away from the  dirtier aspects of crime. It was laughably redundant, but they were still a  formidable force with a reputation for being tough and they had something she  wanted. 
            ‘Not bad for a bunch of punks.  Ground entrances are sealed and the basements are locked off. Guess that leaves  the roof as my only way in. According to that punk in Cairo,  they keep their prized items in the vault. Knowing Farouk, he’s taken all sorts  of precautions. Too bad there’s nothing left of him to pummel. What I wouldn’t  give to punish him and Black Tom for what they did to Azazel.’ 
            The shape shifter continued to  scan the area. She focused on the roof where she saw a number of guards and  sentries. They didn’t look as focused or coordinated as the ones below. They  probably were thinking nobody would be foolish enough to drop in from above. It  was the typical naivety of thieves. All they knew was stealing. They didn’t  know the first thing about being a mercenary or a fighter. That would be her  greatest asset in fighting her way in. She couldn’t be as messy as she was last  time, but she could still play to her strengths. One of them was stealth. 
            After getting a good feel for the  roof, Mystique shape shifted into a large black falcon. Using her new avian  talents, she flew up high into the stormy weather. Using the clouds as cover  she swirled over the roof, watching as guards walked back and forth. She waited  patiently for her window. Soon, she saw her chance. She found a lone guard on  the southeast corner of the roof. He broke off from the others so he could  smoke a cigarette. In blustery weather he fumbled a bit with his lighter. It  was just the kind of moment she needed to make her move. 
            Setting her sights on the line  figure, she swooped in. The guard didn’t even notice her even after she came  into view. He remained focused on lighting his cigarette. When he finally did  look up, the only thing he saw was a black bird turning into an angry  blue-skinned woman. 
            “What the-ungh!” he exclaimed as  she pounced on him. 
            Before he could call out for  help, Mystique pinned him to the rooftop and placed her foot on his neck. She  then took out a knife and held it to his eye. 
            “The vault! Where is it?!” she  demanded. 
            “Hnn…” was all he got out. 
            He wasn’t going to say anything.  Shadow Kings were too loyal. It was their defining trait. 
            “Fine! Have it you’re way!” she  barked. 
            The shape shifter slugged him  hard, knocking him out cold and probably leaving him with some brain damage.  She then quickly took his form. This way she could move safely amongst the  others. To make sure the body didn’t cause any commotion, she propped him up  against the wall so it looked like he was taking a nap. Once he was settled,  she took his gun and rose up. She also took his cigarettes in the process. 
            “These are very bad for you,” she  said a she tossed them aside, “No wonder you people have to keep recruiting new  thieves. If only Farouk was that foolish.” 
            Now armed and in the perfect  disguise, Mystique carefully began her infiltration. Just below her were the  answers that she had waited so many years for. Nothing short of divine  intervention would keep her from the truth.  
             
            
                
            
            Farouk Villa – Courtyard  
            The flight to Morocco  went smoothly despite the weather. Storm remained tense while Gambit, Rogue,  and Nightcrawler drank some coffee to help wake them up. They weren’t used to  seeing her like this. Something about these Shadow Kings brought out a  different side to her. It wasn’t dark or angry. It was more so an overwhelming  sense of sorrow. It was a feeling that hung over her strongly as Logan  took the X-jet down for a landing. 
            Now in full uniform and awake for  the most part, the team followed Storm out of the jet and up towards the front  entrance of the villa. According to Storm, they were expecting them. That  didn’t mean they would be welcome though. Looking out at the villa, the X-men  saw an unforgiving environment before them. Few knew what to expect. Even Kurt,  who had heard of the Shadow Kings through his father, didn’t know a whole lot  about them. But some couldn’t help their curiosity. Wolverine especially was  concerned and couldn’t help but inquire as they followed Storm to the front  gate. 
            “You better be awake by now,  Gumbo. Because you need to start talking before we find this shit out the hard  way,” said Wolverine sternly. 
            “What’s there to talk about?”  said Gambit innocently as he shuffled some cards, “Ro be your girlfriend now.  Why don’t you ask her?” 
            “Because I’d much rather bug the  hell out of you than her,” retorted the feral mutant, “Now stop playing dumb. I  know you know something. Spill it before I have to beat it out of you.” 
            Gambit shook his head. He had a  feeling Stormy wouldn’t come clean with the details. As her ex-lover, it was up  to him to fill in the blanks. 
            “Remy only knows what Stormy’s  told me. She joined these hommes after she lost her parents. She lived under  this big time Shadow King boss named Amahl Farouk. Remy don’t know too much  about him, but word on the street was he was into some really strange mojo. His  cell specialized in stealin’ rare artifacts, most of them magic.” 
            “You mean magic like the kind  that makes Juggernaut so dang tough?” said Rogue. 
            “The very same,” said Gambit, “As  you can imagine, it made him quite a tough fella to work for.” 
            “You don’t need to convince me,  mien friend,” said Nightcrawler bitterly, “Zhat vould explain vhy he constantly  clashed vith my father.” 
            “Gambit don’t know much about  that. All I know is that they were the ones that brought Stormy in and trained  her to be the skilled femme she is today.” 
            It filled in a couple of blanks.  It explained why Storm was already such a proficient fighter when she joined  the X-men. She had already been hardened by the Shadow Kings. But Wolverine  wasn’t satisfied with this information. 
            “There’s more, ain’t there?” he  said, giving the Cajun a menacing look. 
            “Don’t be pushing me, Logan,”  said Gambit, “This sort of thing ain’t for Remy to say.” 
            “I’ll be the judge of that!”  snarled Wolverine. 
            But before he could go any  further, Storm stepped in. She was already very anxious about all this. She  didn’t need her lover getting worked up as well. 
            “He’s right, Logan,”  she said strongly, “If anyone is going to spill on my dark secrets, it’s going  to be me.” 
            “So then why are you keeping me  in the dark while your ex here knows the rest?” retorted the feral mutant. 
            “It’s…not that simple,” she said  anxiously, “I promise it’ll make much more sense after we meet with Farouk.” 
            “I’m already lookin’ forward to it!  He sounds like the kind of guy who would get along nicely with adamantium  claws!” 
            “That may not be possible,” she  said awkwardly as they reached the gate, “Meeting with Farouk is  somewhat…unorthodox.” 
            “What do you mean, Storm?” asked  Rogue. 
            Before Storm could respond, they  got their answer. The five X-men all felt a sudden surge in their minds. It was  as if someone was shouting into it, not unlike the feeling they got when they  talked to Professor Xavier telepathically. Only this felt a lot less pleasant. 
            ‘Welcome Ororo! At last you  return!’ 
            “The hell?!” grunted Wolverine. 
            As the X-men reeled from the  shock, they watched a strange glowing figure form in front of them. He looked  like a ghost or an astral projection, but his presence was definitely felt. As  he stepped forth his intimidating appearance came into view. He was tall,  oversized male with tan skin, dark eyes, and a very hallow expression. He was  wearing what appeared to be a more elaborate version of the Shadow Kings cloaks  that the rest of the thieves inside were wearing. It was almost like he was  royalty. 
            As he approached them, Wolverine  drew his claws and Rogue and Nightcrawler took on a defensive position. The  only one who didn’t look surprised was Storm, who only tensed with anger as she  saw him. 
            “Uh…Storm?” said Rogue warily. 
            “That’s what I was about to say,”  she said in a low tone, “Farouk is a powerful psychic. He always did exercise  his mind more than his body.” 
            ‘You always had a talent for  understatement, Ororo. You more than anyone should know that my mind evolved  beyond my body long ago.’ 
            “I suppose it was too much for me  to hope for,” said the African woman bitterly as she gazed up at the glowing  figure, “You insist on bending the rules to your favor.” 
            ‘What can I say? It’s what I  do best. It is, after all, what brought you here. Now are you going to come  inside or are we going to waste what precious little time we have?’ 
            Storm’s gaze narrowed on the  disembodied figure. A great range of emotions coursed through her as she looked  up at him, but she would have to push them all aside if she was to get through  this. She still didn’t like it, but there was no going back. 
            “Very well,” she said, “But only  if my friends come with me. I am not doing any favors for you without them by  my side!” 
            ‘Normally, I would abhor the  idea of allowing such outsiders into our realm. Particularly one who bears the  stench of the Azazel.’ 
            “Don’t you dear mention zhat  name!” yelled an enraged Nightcrawler. 
            “Kurt don’t!” urged Rogue,  holding him back. 
            ‘But seeing as how you’ve been  so loyal, I will make a rare exception. Just make sure they behave themselves.  I do not take kindly to such disrespect.’ 
            “Just shut up and get on with it,  bub! The more I hear you in my head the more I want to dump acid on my brain!”  snarled Wolverine. 
            Farouk scorned the feral mutant’s  response. That was just the kind of disrespect he despised. This man had some  nerve, but civility would have to wait. While he found it annoying, it seemed  to earn him an approving look from Storm. He sensed something more between  them. He would have to remember that for future reference. 
            Without another word, Farouk’s  ghostly form faded and the front gate opened. Immediately, they were greeted by  a team of Shadow King guards. They were all heavily armed and wearing the same  distinct cloak. But to the surprise of Wolverine and the other X-men, they were  respectful of their presence.  
            “Welcome back to the Shadow  Kings, Ororo Munroe,” one of them said with a welcoming bow, “We appreciate you  gracing us with your presence once more.” 
            “Thank you,” she replied despite  some bitterness, “But don’t get too used to it. I do not plan on staying long.” 
            “Understood,” said another,  “Follow us. Farouk has set up a special meeting area inside.” 
            “Special how?” said Rogue  suspiciously. 
            “I cannot say. Not because I  don’t want to, but because you need to see it for yourself to believe it.” 
            This was getting stranger by the  second. The more they learned about these Shadow Kings, the more suspicious they  grew. Something really didn’t feel right. Wolverine could smell it.  Nightcrawler could feel it, having gone up against them when he was with his  father. But they placed their trust in Storm and the history she had with these  people. 
            Under heavy escort, Storm and the  X-men followed the guards into the villa. As they made their way through the  courtyard, many of the other Shadow Kings gathered to watch the affair. Many  bowed respectfully to Storm, showing they hadn’t forgotten her even though she  left this group many years ago. She tried to remain stoic, but it was hard not  to get a little emotional considering her history. Wolverine and Gambit pushed  her along, reminding her that she left these people for a reason and wasn’t  going back. 
            Once past the courtyard, they  entered the villa. As was expected from its outer appearance, the interior was  quite opulent. It had fine rugs, expensive artwork lining the walls, and  various vases and relics strewn about. It wasn’t the fanciest dwelling, but it  had all the markings of thieves den.  
            “Not bad,” commented Gambit, “It  ain’t the prettiest haul Remy’s seen, but still decent.” 
            “Quiet Gumbo! Swap notes with  them later!” said Wolverine as he thoroughly scanned the area, “Something feel very  wrong with this place and it ain’t just the stench of theives!” 
            “Ja, I feel it too,” said  Nightcrawler with equal suspicion. 
            “Try not to worry,” said the  guard stoically, “It’ll all make sense soon enough.” 
            The guard led them through a  series of heavy chamber doors. Storm kept her eyes focused forward, but the  others kept looking around. They noticed that the deeper they got into the  villa, the fewer guards they saw. It was as if they were leaving behind them.  It was strange because if this was as bad as Farouk said it was, it would have  made more sense for them to stay. It only added to their growing suspicion. 
            BWhile the others were looking  around for clues, Storm found herself lost in memories. Looking around at the  opulent villa, she found herself reflecting on the time she spent here. She  remembered her first meeting with Farouk, her extensive training, and her  coming of age here at the Shadow Kings. 
            “That’s right, Ororo. Work  with the forces of nature and not against them. Let the light, air, and earth  around you be an ally and not an obstacle.” 
            Those words from Farouk himself  would be a pre-cursor to her powers. It was something she would later discover  under the Shadow Kings tutelage. Farouk himself revealed that he knew of her  power and sought to nurture it. 
            “I always knew you were  special, Ororo. I sensed it in you the day I met you. Like me, you have a gift.  And like me, you must learn to use that gift. It can turn you from an ordinary  thief into an extraordinary thief. Trust me and I’ll lead you to a new world of  promise.” 
            She found herself tensing at the  memories of those words. Trusting Farouk was what led her away from the Shadow  Kings. It was part of what encouraged her to make a better life for herself.  But that wasn’t the most painful memory of her experience here. One in  particular, always stood out. 
            “Ororo…I love you. Please,  stand by me and there’s no limit to what we can attain.” 
            “Still with us, Storm?” said  Rogue, breaking the older woman from her daze. 
            “What? Oh…yes, I’m okay,” she  said. 
            “Yeah right, and I’m a card  carrying member of Alcoholics Anonymous,” said Logan  dryly, “Seriously darlin’, talk to me.” 
            “I…” 
            But before she could continue,  the guard interrupted them as they reached the final chamber door. 
            “We’re here,” he said. 
            Storm fell silent despite  Wolverine’s gaze. She really did want to tell him everything, but she didn’t  even know where start. It was a conversation that was going to have to wait  though. Farouk was waiting for them. 
            Wolverine, Rogue, Nightcrawler,  and Gambit followed Storm inside. The guard slipped away, leaving them alone  with the mysterious figure. They quickly realized that this was no ordinary  chamber. It felt very dark and isolated. It was nowhere near as fancy as the  rest of the villa. The walls were dimly lit, the ceiling was a lot lower, and  there was a very confined feeling to the area. It felt almost like a tomb of  sorts, not unlike those one would find in Egypt.  If what they saw from Farouk earlier was any indication, it was an appropriate  setting. 
            “Zhis does not look like your  typical meeting room,” commented Nightcrawler. 
            “Feels more like a tomb,” said  Gambit, “Either this homme got some kinky tastes or he be messed up on a whole  new level.” 
            “I’m guessin’ it’s a little of  both,” said Rogue as he looked up ahead. 
            “You don’t know how right you  are, Rogue,” said Storm distantly. 
            Storm stopped in mid stride,  causing the others to stop as well. At first they were confused by her actions.  Then they looked up ahead and saw what she was talking about. Residing at the  front of the room was a very morbid sight. It more or less answered many  lingering questions about this Farouk character. 
            At the very front of the room  were two elaborate coffins. One was neatly laid out, placed perpendicular to  the back wall. It had various flowers and emblems covering it, as if people had  been paying respects to it daily for a while now. The second, however, was far  more ominous. This coffin was standing upright and the top half was open.  Inside resided a neatly preserved, but substantially decayed corpse. It bore a  striking resemblance to the astral figure of the Amahl Farouk they saw earlier,  but there were no signs of life in it. 
            “Ugh, there goes mah appetite for  the rest of the dang week!” groaned Rogue. 
            “A freakin’ corpse?!” exclaimed  Wolverine, “So this guy is dead!” 
            “His body is,” said Storm  distantly, “But his mind is not.” 
            As the team digested this  gruesome revelation, they heard Farouk’s voice again. 
            ‘Very astute, my child. Now you know the truth. Yes, my body did  perish. I made no miraculous escape or managed some inhuman recovery. There are  limits for those who are shot, stabbed, burned, bludgeoned, and electrocuted.’ 
            “You don’t have to remind me. I  was there,” said Storm bitterly. 
            ‘Yet you were still surprised when you heard my voice again. Honestly,  Ororo, did you really think I would let it end like this?’ 
            Storm tensed with anger as she  gazed at the unmoving corpse of her former mentor. If he wasn’t already dead,  she would have unleashed a full blown hurricane on him. This man may have taken  her under his wing when she joined the Shadow Kings, but he hurt her in so many  ways. 
            “What the heck are they talkin’  about?” asked Rogue under her breath to Gambit. 
            “Put two and two together, cherè.  Stormy played a big part in puttin’ ugly here in his current state. From what  she told me, old man Farouk pulled a fast one on the rest of the Shadow Kings.  He get involved with some nasty folks that really put his people in a tough  spot.” 
            “Zhat vould be vhere my people  came in,” said Nightcrawler, “Vhen he started plotting against zhe Azazel, my  father struck back.” 
            “And he struck hard. So when it  all went down, Stormy let Farouk go down with it.” 
            “So why the heck is she helping  the guy?” wondered Wolverine, “What’s he got on her?” 
            “Not what, Logan…who,” said Storm  distantly. 
            While the others were  contemplating these revelations, Storm walked up to the front of the room where  the coffins were. She ignored the one that had Farouk’s decaying body on  displayed and focused on the one next to it. Her expression shifted as she  placed her hand over it. A wave of sadness came over her. A slight tear trailed  down her face. She knew who was in this coffin and just being close to it again  struck her to her core. 
            “Amahl…” she said sadly. 
            ‘Yes, fitting is it not? The body of the father rests besides his son.  It is tradition here in the Shadow Kings.’ 
            “Don’t talk to me about  tradition!” spat Storm, “It’s because of you Amahl was killed!” 
            ‘Do not blame me for my son being weak. He should have been stronger  when I sent him in to face Black Tom and his associates. I know you had a soft  spot for him, but he was not fit to succeed me.’ 
            “He was more a man than you ever  were!” she cried as she looked over the coffin. 
            ‘He was a disappointment. He did not deserve your love. He deserves  only his fate.’ 
            At this point, the rest of the  X-men caught onto what was going on. Farouk’s words and Storm’s demeanor said  it all. The figure in the other coffin was Farouk’s son. But more than that, he  was also Storm’s former lover. It was a startling revelation and one that put  this whole endeavor into a new perspective. 
            “Back up…Storm was humpin’ this  guy’s son?!” exclaimed Wolverine. 
            “Okay, that be news to me too,”  said Gambit with equal surprise, “Remy don’t remember her talkin’ much about  him back in the day.” 
            “I zhink I can understand vhy,”  said Nightcrawler as he gazed at Farouk’s corpse, “I knew you were a devious man,  but your own son?!” 
            ‘Are you going to stand here and criticize me or are we going to get  down to business? I called you here to help me and that is what you’re going to  do.’ 
            “Don’t flatter yourself, Farouk!”  said Storm with a hard sob, “It’s not you I wish to help! It’s Amahl Jr. I’m  doing this for! He’s the one that taught me to be loyal and strong, not you! If  it were up to me, your corpse would be exhumed from these grounds and thrown  into the nearest fire!” 
            ‘Such harsh words, my child. But utterly pointless. It matters not that  you hate me. It only matters that you’re here. Now set aside your hatred and  stand before me. I promise this won’t take long.’ 
            The African woman gazed bitterly  over the coffin of Amahl Jr. As much as she hated his father, she couldn’t  forget about the lessons he taught her grown up. Loyalty and dedication were  among the chief tenants of all Shadow Kings. To betray those tenants was to  betray his memory and he deserved better even if his father didn’t. 
            She reluctantly pulled away from  the coffin and stood before Farouk’s dead corpse. As she did, Wolverine and the  others joined her. She felt Wolverine’s critical gaze on her, obviously  unnerved by the revelation about Farouk. Gambit was as well, being an ex-lover  of hers. She had a lot of explaining to do, but now was not the time. 
            “We’ll discuss it later, Logan.  I promise,” she told him under her breath. 
            “We damn well better,” muttered  the feral mutant. 
            Now they were all facing Farouk’s  body. Bitter reunions aside, a daunting task at hand lay before them. And it  wasn’t lost on Rogue and Nightcrawler that it involved Mystique. 
            “Okay pretty boy, spill it before  Ah lose my breakfast,” said Rogue bitterly, “You said this has something to do  with Mystique. Tell us so we can deal with her and get the hell out of here!” 
            ‘Ah yes, Miss Raven Darkholme. It has been a while since our paths  crossed. She’s quite the fighter as I’m sure you know. She’s also very  dangerous. As we speak, she is seeking to steal a very important artifact from  my collection.’ 
            “What kind of artifact?” asked  Storm bitterly. 
            ‘One that holds the key to unimaginable destruction. Not just for the  Shadow Kings, but for the world as we know it.’ 
            “Sounds like Mystique alright,”  growled Wolverine, “Just tell us where you’re keeping this junk and we’ll take  care of it.” 
            ‘It’s…not quite that simple. But you need not worry. I’ve already  formulated a plan for you to follow.’ 
            “Plan? What kind of plan?” asked  Storm suspiciously.  
            A mysterious silence fell over  the room. The five X-men were no longer hearing Farouk’s voice in their minds,  but they still felt his ominous presence. And if the cold feeling in the air  was any indication, it was growing and not in a good way. 
            Then something unexpected and  horrifying happened. The corpse of Amahl Farouk suddenly came to life. The eyes  on the half-decayed face shot open, revealing a very sinister-looking gaze.  Storm gasped at such a sight, but she didn’t have time to be surprised. In  another shocking display, the eyes started glowing in an ominous purple hue.  From that glow, the astral figure of Amahl Farouk formed again. Only this time  he didn’t just hover in front of them. He literally flew into Storm’s body,  taking her over and consuming her to her core. 
            “Ahhhhhhhh!” she cried out as she  clutched her head. 
            ‘Don’t fight it, Ororo. I’m just borrowing you and your powers for a  moment. You really don’t think I would trust you to such a task, do you? I’ve  always been fond of a more hands on approach…figurative speaking.’ 
            “Storm!” exclaimed Wolverine. 
            But as the feral mutant ran to  help her, Storm turned around and showed a very different gaze. Her eyes were  now glowing the same color as Farouk’s had earlier. Now he was the one in  control and with that control, he used Storm’s powers to blow Wolverine back  with a sharp wind gust. 
            “Out of my way!” said Storm in a voice that sounded like Farouk, “Your assistance is no longer needed, X-men.  I can take it from here!” 
            With a sinister new demeanor, the  mind-controlled Storm took to the air on a slipstream of wind. She forcibly  blew Gambit, Wolverine, Rogue, and Nightcrawler out of the way in the process,  making it clear that Farouk was in control. 
            “Stormy!” Gambit called out as he  watched her fly out of the room. 
            “That fucking dirt-bag! He tricked  her!” roared Wolverine, “I swear he’s a dead man!” 
            “Tell us something ve don’t  know,” groaned Nightcrawler, who was still reeling from the wind blast, “Zhat’s  Farouk for you. He’s as cunning as he is dead!” 
            “Ah don’t care how cunning he is!  We gotta get to Mystique!” exclaimed Rogue. 
            “Wait, so now you wanna save your, merè?” said Gambit. 
            “You can point out the irony  later!” spat Rogue as she and Wolverine ran of after her, “Let’s just get to  her before he starts throwing tornadoes at her!”  
             
            
                
            
            Farouk Villa Basement – Vault 
            Mystique reached the vault faster  than she anticipated. As soon as she was inside, the number of guards and  security obstacles dropped off fast. She passed only minor obstacles. A few  guards here, a security camera there, and even some locked doors. But they were  easy to get around since they all used fingerprint scanners. She didn’t even  have to knock anybody out. It seemed as though the deeper she got, the fewer  guards there were. They either slipped away or weren’t there to begin with. 
            ‘Farouk must be slipping in his old age. This system is a joke! Did I  catch them all on break or something?’ 
            The shape shifter maintained her  vigilance. Farouk was a dangerous man with a reputation for cunning. She had to  be on her guard no matter how easy it appeared. She stepped out of the main  elevator leading from the ground level to the basement. As soon as she entered,  she encountered only three guards patrolling the vault. Two of them were  keeping watch while another was smoking a cigarette. For something that was  supposed to house so many valuable, it really was undermanned. 
            Entering the main area, Mystique  maintained the disguise she took earlier. The three guards seemed to recognize  her. 
            “What are you doing down here?”  asked one of them. 
            “Early shift change,” Mystique  lied, “Lost a bet and now I have to take over early.” 
            “You lost a bet? Since when do  you gamble?” laughed the other guard. 
            “You want to bust my balls or do  you want to shut up and leave?” 
            “Sure thing. Just show the new  schedule card and I’ll be out of your hair.” 
            Mystique held back a curse.  Nobody said anything about a schedule card. Farouk must have been a little  smarter than she thought. That meant she was going to have to use the direct  approach. 
            “Sure, it’s right here…” she said  as she reached into her cloak. 
            But instead of pulling out a  card, she skillfully whipped out her Colt 45 postil and fired at the  unsuspecting guard. He was struck right in the head, killing him instantly.  When the two other guards saw this they were stunned.  
            “What the?!” one of them began. 
            Before they could respond,  Mystique attacked. She took one down with a swift roundhouse to the face and  shot the one smoking the cigarette before he could even get up. Within a few  seconds it was over. Neither stood a chance. But this raucous was sure to cause  a commotion soon. She had to get into this vault and get out as fast as  possible. 
            “Will these fools ever learn?”  she scoffed. 
            Tossing her weapon aside,  Mystique shifted back to her normal form and ran up to the vault. It was not  the most elaborate vault she ever saw, but it was definitely top of the line.  It looked like a standard bank vault, consisting of a large rectangular door  with two large cranks to work the locks. In the center was a keypad for  entering the code and another fingerprint scanner. The scanner she could easily  get around. The code would be a bit trickier. 
            To crack the code she took out a  small device she bought in the Cairo  black market. It was a special decrypting device built out of a smartphone.  Using a special attachment, she pride off the key panel and inserted a wire  into the port. It automatically booted up and started processing. According to  the man who sold it to her, it could crack any bank code. For what she paid, it  damn well better. 
            “Come on you piece of junk! Work  faster!” she grunted impatiently. 
            The next few minutes were tense,  but the device did its job. The seven-digit code showed up on the screen and  she quickly punched it in. To her relief it was accepted and the heavy metal  door was unlocked. It revealed a small chamber full of gold, money, and  assorted gems. It was everything one would expect a thieves’ vault to contain.  In another life Mystique would have been ecstatic about such riches, but she  was after something much more valuable. 
            “Where is it?! Where did you hide  it, Farouk?” she mused intently. 
            She quickly tore through the  vault, pushing over tables of jewels and money and sifting through various  artworks and artifacts. She didn’t care if they were priceless or  one-of-a-kind. She would destroy everything in this vault if she had to. 
            Finally, she found something in  the back of the room. It was an elaborately decorated locked box, bearing on it  the symbols of the Azazel. They were symbols that Mystique would recognize  anywhere. With burning anticipation, she grabbed the box and quickly pried it  open with her knife. 
            “At last!” she said, “Looks like  you’ll keep that promise after all, Azazel.” 
            The book was nothing fancy. It  consisted of a slightly worn leather cover and small brown pages. As she opened  it up briefly, she quickly recognized the handwriting as belonging to Azazel.  This was it. In these pages were the answers to so many burning questions. 
            ‘Your visions better start improving, Destiny. For once, the future is  not going to be set! I’ll make sure of it.’ 
            With the diary in hand, Mystique  swiftly ran out of the vault and back towards the elevator. But before she  could even get halfway, something strange happened. The lights around her  started flickering and the air in the room became bitterly cold. It quickly  stirred Mystique’s instincts in all the wrong ways. 
            “Oh for the love of…” she began,  “Is that you, Farouk?! What kind of childish games are you playing this time?” 
            ‘Oh this is no game. I assure you!’ 
            The sound of that cold,  malevolent voice in her mind stirred the shape shifter’s rage. But before she  could start looking around for the source, a deafening explosion ripped through  the room.  
            It came from above in a flash of  destruction. Mystique looked up and gasped as she saw the whole ceiling  collapsing down as if some massive weight had just been thrust upon it. The  shape shifter barely got out of the way, jumping to the side just in time. But  as she tumbled into a corner, she looked up and saw an ominous figure  descending through the newly created hole. She half-expected to see Farouk in  some bizarre new form, but when she got a glimpse of who it was she was shocked. 
            “What the…an X-man?!” she  exclaimed. 
            Hovering on a cushion of wind,  the mind-controlled Storm gazed down at Mystique with murderous intent. 
            “Not quite, but you’re half-right!” said Farouk through the body of  the African woman. 
            “Farouk…” seethed Mystique,  quickly recognizing that tone. 
            “Yes…it’s good to see you too, Raven. I knew you would show up  eventually if I kept that book long enough. Black Tom wanted to destroy it, but  I felt it had other uses…like finishing you off!” 
            Using Storm’s vast power, the  malevolent figure formed a powerful tornado in the confined area. Before  Mystique could even get up, she was swept away in the winds along with streams  of debris. She tried grabbing a gun from one of the downed guards, but it was  quickly blown out of her reach. All she could do at this point was cling to the  book and hold on as she was swept up through the tornado and out through the  villa.  
             
            
                
            
            Xavier Institute – Cerebro Chamber 
            Professor Charles Xavier had been  closely monitoring the situation in Africa. Since Farouk  was a powerful psychic, he made sure Storm and the others were shielded enough  to prevent manipulation, but open enough to receive psychic communication. His  focus was on any unusual spike in telepathic energy. But when he sensed what  happened to Storm, he was caught off guard. 
            “No…Storm!” he lamented. 
            Quickly making adjustments,  Charles Xavier refocused his psychic energy on the ailing woman. Farouk was  skillfully blocking him out so he cranked up the power. Something else was  going on and he wasn’t sure what it was, but he had better find out before  Farouk made Storm do something she would regret. 
            ‘X-men, Farouk has a powerful hold on Storm’s mind! You must find a way  to weaken her! But be careful! Farouk is up to something! You must stop him  before he succeeds!’  
             
            
                
            
            Farouk Villa – Outside 
            The roof of the opulent beachside  villa was nearly blown off as a powerful tornado ripped through the structure.  It nearly caused half the building to crumble. But by now all the Shadow King  guards had been evacuated. There was no one present other than Farouk’s  disembodied spirit and his adversaries.  
            Riding Storm’s tornado high into  the air, Farouk swept Mystique a good couple hundred feet into the air. He  watched as the shape shifter tumbled helplessly through the winds. He could  tell she didn’t want to shape shift into an animal. Otherwise she would lose  the book. She clung to it as if it were her last grasp at life. It was  pathetic. 
            “Enjoying the ride? I can blow you clear into the stratosphere!” 
            “Go to Hell, Farouk! You’re  overdue!” spat Mystique through the winds. 
            She was getting dizzy and  disoriented. The winds tossed her about relentlessly. If she kept going like  this she was going to pass out. But she couldn’t…not when she finally had the  answers from Azazel in her hands. 
            She stubbornly held on, much to  Farouk’s bemusement. Rather than test her tenacity, he went in for the finishing  blow. He re-focused the winds. Now she was hovering steadily in a tight swirl  of winds, helplessly suspended hundreds of feat in the air. As she hovered,  Farouk rode the winds in closer so that he was hovering right in front of her. 
            “You’ve been quite an annoyance, Raven. Why do you insist on  interfering? You’re as foolish as Azazel! You cannot stop what’s coming!  Nothing can!” 
            “I don’t care! I plan on  finishing what he started!” spat Raven, “Then when I’m done, I’ll personally  see to it that you and Black Tom share your own circle of Hell!” 
            “Such blatant disrespect,” taunted Farouk, “And you know how Shadow Kings feel about disrespect.” 
            With a sadistic sneer, Farouk had  Storm whip up another gust of wind. This one swooped right in between her arms  and literally ripped the book out of her grip.  
            “NO!” she exclaimed as she  watched the book disappear into the winds. 
            “Yes! The secrets of Azazel end here! And so shall you!” Farouk  proclaimed. 
            Storm’s eyes glowed brightly as Farouk  had her summon darker clouds. Mystique watched as sparks of lightning erupted  around them. She struggled to break free from the winds, but it was no use. All  she could do was brace herself for the inevitable. 
            But before Farouk could unleash  the killing blow on the shape shifter, Storm was hit by something unexpected.  It was Rogue, who flew in from behind for a surprise a blow. 
            “Ah’m so gonna get detention for  this!” she exclaimed as she rammed into Storm. 
            “Augh!” 
            Storm and Farouk were sent tumbling  through the air. The winds and clouds quickly dispersed. Only now nothing was  holding Mystique up so she started falling. But she didn’t fall far. As soon as  Rogue hit Storm, she flew in to catch her bewildered mother. 
            “Rogue?!” exclaimed Mystique in bewilderment. 
            “Ah’m as shocked as you, mama,”  she said dryly. 
            Negating the obvious awkwardness,  Rogue flew Mystique away from the winds and down towards the courtyard.  Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and Gambit were there waiting for her, having escaped  the destruction just as Farouk kicked Storm’s powers into overdrive. The shape  shifter was not overly thrilled to see them, but their timing was impeccable. 
            “Are you okay, mother?” asked  Nightcrawler as he ran up to Mystique. 
            “I’m fine!” she said, shoving off  his and Rogue’s support, “Now out of my way! I have to find that book!” 
            “Whoa there, back up!” said  Gambit, getting in her way, “Seeing as how Rogue just saved you, I think you be  owing us an explanation!” 
            “Spare me the interrogation! I’m  not leaving until I get what I came for!” 
            “You don’t start talkin’ the only  thing you’re getting is a…” but Wolverine never got a chance to finish his  threat. 
            A sharp gust of wind thwarted any  further efforts to get answers out of Mystique. They were all blown back as they  looked up to see Storm descending towards them on a newly created whirlwind.  She was still airborne, riding trail of wind to the center of the courtyard.  Her eyes continued brimming with malicious intent, indicating Farouk still had  a strong hold on her. 
            “You pesky little insects. You know, I was going to spare Ororo’s  friends from this wrath. But if you insist on helping that shape shifting  bitch, you’ll share her fate!” 
            “Bub, you are pissing me off on a  whole new level!” snarled Wolverine, “I swear if you don’t let go of my  girlfriend I’ll…” 
            “Girlfriend, you say?” Farouk laughed, “Please…Ororo can do so much better.” 
            Grinning with intent, Farouk had  Storm kick up a powerful lightning storm around them. They forced the X-men  back even further. With little to take cover behind, they had to think fast.  Gambit quickly came up with a plan. Taking out his bow staff, he carefully  charged the tip. One of the benefits to having dated Storm was that he knew all  the tricks when it came to handling her powers. 
            “Get behind Remy!” he called out,  “I’ll keep the lightning at bay!” 
            “Smart move, mien friend! Beast  vould be proud!” commented Nightcrawler. 
            Rogue, Nightcrawler, and  Wolverine followed his advice, narrowly avoiding lightning strikes as they got  behind Gambit. As they did, all the lightning around them was directed to the  charged tip of his staff. It gave them some cover and a chance to regroup. 
            But Mystique didn’t care about  regrouping. She only cared about getting that book. From her position just in  front of the Cajun, she saw the discarded book lying in a pile of charred earth  just up ahead. It was still intact, having not been torn apart by the winds. As  soon as she saw it, she ran out after it. 
            “Mama! Are you out of your  mind?!” exclaimed Rogue. 
            “Does it look like I care for  sanity?!” she yelled back, “I must get that book!” 
            With no regard for her own  safety, she ran out into the lightning storm. Rogue and Nightcrawler could only  watch with shock as their mother ran into the line of fire. As soon as she was  outside Gambit’s protective cover, Farouk grinned and took aim at her. 
            “DIE WHORE OF AZAZEL!” 
            Concentrating harder, Farouk  formed a ball of lightning in Storm’s hand and with a murderous grunt, he  unleashed it upon the defenseless shape shifter. 
            Mystique knew it was coming. She  could care less if it hit her. All that mattered was getting that book. She  prepared to make a dive for it, bracing herself for the inevitable impact. But  at the last second, someone else tackled her out of harm’s way. The lightning  struck just beside them. While she was thankful to be alive, she was shocked  when she looked up to see who saved her. 
            ”Wolverine?!” she yelled, “What  the hell are you doing saving me?!” 
            “Honestly…I don’t have a freakin’  clue,” grunted Wolverine. 
            It was the truth. He acted on a  whim. Mystique was the last person Wolverine would ever think to save, but  something pushed him to go after her. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it would  have to wait. Farouk wasn’t letting up. 
            While Farouk charged for another  strike, Gambit ran up to them with his charged staff keeping them protected  from stray lightning. Rogue and Nightcrawler followed close behind and rushed  to their mother’s aid. 
            “Mother, you must stop zhis  madness!” exclaimed Nightcrawler. 
            “Not until I get that book!” she  yelled out. 
            “Why? What the heck is so  important about it anyways?” asked Rogue. 
            “She can tell us later!” said  Gambit as a bolt of lightning came uncomfortably close, “We gotta find a way to  stop Stormy! Farouk ain’t letting her go!” 
            Farouk only reinforced his point  by unleashing more winds to further throw them off. With Storm under his power,  they didn’t stand a chance. As much as it pained Wolverine, he knew he was  going to have to attack her. He just started getting close with this woman. Now  their blossoming relationship was going to face its first major test. Gazing up  at her enslaved form, he snarled with rage at Farouk. He soon put together a  plan on how to stop him. 
            “You’re right, Gumbo! We gotta  stop her!” he said as he turned to Nightcrawler, “Elf, I need you to teleport  me up there! Land me right on her back!” 
            “Are you crazy?!” roared  Mystique, “You’re not putting my son in that kind of danger!” 
            “You threw yourself into danger  too, mother. Now it’s my turn!” said Nightcrawler defiantly, “I can get you up  zhere, Logan. But I hope you know  vhat you’re doing!” 
            “That makes two of us,” said the  feral mutant. 
            Following Wolverine’s simple  orders, Nightcrawler grasped onto his feral friend’s shoulder and teleported  him away. They appeared in a puff of smoke just above Storm, where the winds  were a lot stronger and the lightning was a lot closer. But Wolverine braved  the elements, letting go of Nightcrawler and allowing him to fall towards her.  As soon as he reached her, he grabbed onto her back and clung to her with all  his might. Farouk grunted in frustration as he sensed this. With Storm still  under his control, he struggled to get him off her back. 
            “Get off me you animal! She is  mine!” 
            “You’ve overstayed your welcome, bub!”  grunted Wolverine, “Storm, I don’t know if you can hear me in there, but you  gotta fight this asshole! Don’t let him use you as a meat puppet! Trust me on  this one! It’ll cause you nothing but trouble!” 
            Farouk seemed to falter. His  urgings seemed to reach the woman behind Farouk’s control. The winds shifted  and the lightning became more erratic. Having metal bones didn’t help as well.  He endured his share of shocks, but he toughed through them and maintained his  grip on her. 
            “Errrrrr! You…can’t…win!” 
            Farouk’s grip remained strong, but  then Wolverine got some much needed help. 
            ‘You’re wrong, Farouk. Your  control over Storm ends now!’ 
            Wolverine grinned upon hearing  that telepathic voice. It could only be one person. 
            “About time you showed up, Chuck!  Now do your thing while most of my skin is intact!” 
            Farouk was really struggling now.  He had not only Wolverine’s weight and Storm’s resistance working against him.  He had the mind of the most powerful telepath in the world bearing down on his  psyche. From across an ocean, Professor Charles Xavier unleashed his telepathic  wrath on Farouk. He struck hard at the powerful psychic, weakening his grip  while strengthening Storm’s. The disembodied figure let out pained howls. Even  without a body, there was only so much resistance he could endure. 
            Finally, Storm began to emerge  from Farouk’s control. Her glowing eyes shifted color from purple to white.  With help from the Professor, she was forcing Farouk out. Then with the winds  still howling, she delivered a punishing blow. 
            “Get…out…of my…mind!” she  exclaimed. 
            ‘ARRRRGGGHHH!’ 
            Farouk’s control was nearly  shattered. He no longer had full control. As such, the wind and lightning he  kicked up wavered. And without the winds holding them up, she fell to the  ground below. The whole time, Wolverine kept a firm grip on her. 
            “That’s it, darlin’! I got you!”  he grunted. 
            When they hit the ground,  Wolverine shifted his body so he took the full impact. It was painful as hell,  but he could take it. For Storm, he endured it. After reeling from the impact,  Wolverine helped the dazed Storm up. She was still struggling with Farouk,  whose grip was almost broken. She held onto Wolverine for support as she  angrily attacked the invading figure in her mind. As she did Gambit, Rogue, Nightcrawler,  and Mystique caught up to them. It appeared the fight was almost over. 
            “Stormy! You okay?” Gambit called  out. 
            “Hang on, bub. It’s almost over,”  grunted a still pained Wolverine. 
            Clenching her fists, Storm  prepared to deliver the final blow. This man may have done much for her as a  little girl. But now he was a grim reminder of a life she left behind. 
            “You’re finished, Farouk!” she  grunted intently, “Now get out!” 
            ‘Not…without…one more…task.’ 
            In a last grasp of strength,  Farouk took control of Storm for just a few more seconds. In this brief time,  he summoned a small lightning strike. Only this time he wasn’t aiming for  Storm, Mystique, or the X-men. This time he was aiming for the book, which was  still resting on a pile of debris. It was his last shot and this time, he hit  it perfectly. As soon as the lightning struck the book, it burst into flames. 
            ”NOOOOOOO!” exclaimed Mystique in  horror. 
            ‘Yes…I’ve done it!’ 
            “Errrrrr enough!” yelled Storm. 
            With that final push, she  expelled Farouk from her body. His disembodied spirit was literally launched  out of her. It couldn’t have been very pleasant for him, but it no longer  mattered. Farouk finished what he wanted to. He had won. 
            While Gambit and Wolverine helped  the ailing Storm, Mystique ran over to the now charred remains of the book.  Rogue and Nightcrawler went after her, still full of questions. When she  reached the now smoldering pile of ashes, the shape shifter fell to her knees  in a fit of anger and anguish. 
            “Damn you, Farouk! Damn you,  X-men! That was my last chance!” she said, “Now I’ll never know the truth!” 
            “Truth? What the heck are you  talkin’ about, mama?” asked Rogue skeptically. 
            “That book…was the key to  stopping a very grim future,” she said as she let the ashes crumble in her  hands, “It was a secret diary kept by Azazel himself!” 
            “My…my father?!” exclaimed  Nightcrawler. 
            “Yes…and it contained the answers  to so many questions!” she said with a bitter scowl, “It had all the details  Azazel was never able to tell us! Every question we ever had about who he was  and why he did what he did was supposed to be answered in that book! He left it  specifically for us to find! Now it’s gone!” 
            Nightcrawler was taken aback. At  first he thought it was another one of Mystique’s tricks, but when he saw the  look in her eyes he knew it was true. It put this whole threat they were brought in to stop in a new perspective.  
            “Wait…that was all you were  after?! Some old book?!” said Rogue, “Then why the heck would Farouk drag Storm  out here?” 
            “Isn’t it obvious?” said Mystique  bitterly, “He used you and you let him!” 
            They were harsh words. Rogue and  Nightcrawler exchanged looks. They couldn’t have been that foolish and Mystique  couldn’t have been the innocent one here. They were the X-men and she was a  deranged woman with a long list issues. It seemed impossible, but Farouk  appeared to confirm it. 
            ‘Oh how ironic it is! The heroes for peace and understanding come to  thwart the evil shape shifter! Only to discover your deeds were anything but  heroic!’ 
            At this point Storm, Wolverine,  and Gambit took notice as well. Storm was back on her feet, still weak from  Farouk’s control. But she was still livid. If what he said was true then he did  more than just play off her old loyalties.  
            “You…you tricked us!” she  exclaimed, “For what?! To insult everything the Shadow Kings stands for?!” 
            ‘Do not lecture me on the honor of the Shadow Kings! I am only doing  what our bylaws decree. I was merely keeping a promise to expunge any chance  for the Azazel to further interfere. They must not stop what is destined to  come.’ 
            “Why? What be coming?” demanded  Gambit. 
            The disembodied spirit of Farouk  laughed. 
            ‘The mere fact you do not know is the best means of ensuring you will  never interfere.’ 
            Storm’s expression tensed bitterly  while Mystique rose up in a rage. They had all lost this time. Farouk, it  seems, got the better of them all. 
            “Errrrrrrrrr! You traitorous  hell-spawn!” yelled Mystique, “I wish you were still alive so I could kill you  again!” 
            ‘Tsk tsk, Raven. You know, part of my plan was to kill you and your  children as further insurance. But since you are without answers or guidance,  I’ll leave you to witness what Azazel failed to stop! A most fitting  punishment, don’t you agree?’ 
            “I’ll show you punishment!” the  shape shifter yelled as she swiped at the disembodied spirit. 
            It was no use. Her attack was  pointless. Farouk had nothing to attack. He was all psionic energy now. He kept  on laughing as his spirit ascended away from his adversaries. His little ploy  had been a smashing success. There was no reason to linger any longer. 
            ‘Hahaha! Save your energy, Raven! You’ll be needing it!’ 
            He then turned towards Storm. 
            ‘And thank you, my child! You’ve done the Shadow Kings a great service!  I knew I could count on you to come through!’ 
            “Spare me your gratitude,  Farouk!” said Storm bitterly, “I’ll never help you again!” 
            ‘We’ll see about that. You of all people should know that fate has a  way of catching up to all Shadow Kings.’ 
            With that final taunt the spirit  of Amahl Farouk disappeared, leaving a defeated Mystique and the embittered  X-men. Storm was at a new low. She let a man she despised with every fiber of  her being use her for his own selfish ends. The curse of the Shadow Kings continued  to loom over her. The price of her failure was not apparent now, but if  Farouk’s ominous words were any indication they certainly would be in due time. 
            This price was already being felt  by Mystique. Farouk was gone now and so was the diary. The ashes of the text  were now spreading to the winds. Chances were Destiny’s visions were going to  become a lot darker now. Without Azazel’s final secrets to guide them, their  hope was waning. 
            “It’s over. Azazel is truly  dead,” she mused. 
            Her children gazed anxiously at  their mother. Nightcrawler was especially affected. 
            “Mother…I’m so sorry,” he said  with a comforting gesture, “Ve had no idea. Ve vere just…” 
            “Doing what you thought was  best?” Mystique finished, “You know coming from you that really does sound  pitiful.” 
            “Welcome to mah world,” said  Rogue dryly. 
            “Don’t get crass with me, Rogue!  I know you’re still bitter about the past, but everything I do is for a reason!  That reason, whether you believe me or not, is you!” 
            Rogue was silenced. She really  had nothing left to say. Just when it seemed Mystique could do no right, she does  something like this. She stood against a man who hurt her and her family. She  was still very angry at her mother, but it wasn’t so clear cut now. 
            “Mother…” Nightcrawler began. 
            “Don’t Kurt. It’s too late for understanding,”  said Mystique as she pulled away from them, “I still don’t like that you’re  caught up in Xavier’s agenda. You don’t like I’m still fighting my own battles.  Let’s just leave each other to our bitterness and call it a day.” 
            “Mama wait…” groaned Rogue. 
            But it was too late. Mystique stormed  off. There was nothing they could say or do at this point. Secrets or no  secrets, she was not going to stop. She still had a promise to keep. Her kids  may not understand or appreciate it now. In time they would come to see the  truth. That still depended on whether or not the bleak future Destiny predicted  caught up with them first. 
            While Rogue and Nightcrawler  watched their walk off, Storm struggled with her own disappointment. She should  have known better. If Amahl Jr. were still alive he would be disheartened. Even  though she had grown so much since her days as a Shadow King, she still had  some harsh lessons to learn. 
            “Well this mission officially be  a bust,” commented Gambit. 
            “Can it, Cajun!” said Wolverine  as he let Storm lean on him, “Let’s not stick around and tuck our tail between  our legs.” 
            “You make it sound so easy, Logan,”  said Storm in a low tone, “I…I shouldn’t have listened to Farouk. He played off  my loyalties to the Shadow Kings and my past feelings for Amahl Jr.” 
            “Guys like him do that,” said Logan,  “I know their kind. They’ll find all sorts of ways to screw you over.” 
            “But I should have been  stronger!” she cried as she clung harder to Logan,  “He…he used me in a way I should never have let him! I let old feelings get the  better of me. You have no idea how it feels. I failed myself and someone I used  to love.” 
            Her tone was solemn. Farouk’s deception  really hit her hard, but to her surprise, Wolverine just kept embracing her. He  even smiled, which was a rare gesture for him. Through her sorrow he  affectionately held her, lending a comfort only a lover could give. 
            “I understand more than you  think,” he told her, “Just hang in there. When we get back I’ll help you get  through this.” 
            “I appreciate that, Logan,”  she said warmly, “But how do you deal with something like this?” 
            Logan  hugged her a little closer as they started walking together. The more he gets  to know her, the more in common they seemed to have. It boded well for their  relationship. 
            “Darlin’, let me tell you about a  girl named Rose…”  
             
            
                
            
            Later 
            Raven Darkholm was defeated and fuming.  Just when the answers to so many questions were within her grasp, Farouk had to  take it all away. That madman not only cheated death. He cheated her out of any  chance to pick of the pieces left by Azazel. Worst of all, he used her own kids  against her. She hated him almost as much as Black Tom. She swore they would  both pay for everything they had done. 
            But vengeance would have to wait.  Even though she lost Azazel’s diary, she couldn’t stop fighting. She refused to  accept the dark fate that awaited her and her children. Now far from the villa,  she took out her phone and called Destiny. 
            “We’re in big trouble now, Irene!  Without Azazel’s diary we have nothing to go on! Please tell me you’ve had a  vision that can help.” 
            “I wish I could say I did, Raven. Unfortunately, the future has become  a lot darker. Without Azazel’s assistance, the coming darkness may be all but  unstoppable.” 
            “Don’t get pessimistic on me!  You’re the one who is always saying the future is fluid and constantly  changing. So let’s find a way to change it in our favor!” 
            “It’s not that simple, Raven. Without a clear understanding of what  we’re up against, we may very well may find ourselves in a death trap.” 
            “I’ll take that chance. Now do  you have anything for me or not?” 
            There was a silence over the  line. Raven could tell Destiny was contemplating whether or not to tell her. Being  her only real friend, she was always worried about her. She got herself into  many bad situations. Even though she managed to survive so far, fate may still catch  up with her. 
            “I do have something. It was in my latest vision. It’s unclear and may  be a dead end, but it’s all I have at the moment.” 
            “Tell me what it is and I’ll find  out more,” said Mystique intently. 
            “I’m not entirely sure of the details, but it involves something known  as the Inner    Circle.”  
            
                
            
          Next Issue: Rivalry and Reflections 
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