Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father Chapter Sixty Five (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... Almost there, lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are splendiferous for archiving/hosting! ProPhile is...not poked! Morgan is, however! Readers/Reviewers: I thought I'd have it done at 65 BUT the denouement is in 66, then an epilogue. THANK YOU!!!!!!!



Poena landed hard on her back, the breath knocked out of her. Sabretooth's roar made her shudder but she did not move. He had won and she must be accepting of his killing blow, die honorably to be among her peers. She did not close her eyes as his fist descended but rather arched her throat, offering him a prime target. The blow never fell. Instead, Sabretooth's roar became a near-howl of frustration and pain. Poena rose to her elbows and frankly stared. A disheveled, ragged looking man, hair in matted dreds and clothes little more than rags, held Sabretooth's fist in one hand and was smiling at her benevolently. "Get up," he said pleasantly.
Poena sat up slowly, not quite knowing what she was seeing. The room seemed suddenly overpopulated. Two people, so similar they might have been mirror images save for the difference of gender, stood behind the old man. Kali, Ernie, Aggie and Annie were next to them, the dark woman towering over them all. "Don't cheat me of my end," Poena spat. "I lost."
Shiva sighed. "Yes. You all did." He gave Sabretooth a gentle push and sent him sprawling onto his back. "Get up so we can end this now."
Kali bared pointed teeth and hissed something at her husband. Poena stood slowly and looked at each face in turn, finally lighting on Annie. "I am not like you," she said quietly. "You are inferior."
"You," Annie replied coldly, her voice shaking only a little, "are obsolete." She jerked her chin and defied Poena to respond.
Aggie began to speak but found her voice thick and raspy. She cleared her throat and tried again, hoping that she did not sound afraid. "This is some foolish attempt of the good doctor's to stay our hand. It will be resolved shortly... Ernie, stop that!"
Ernie had been focused at some distant spot, swaying slightly. When Aggie elbowed him sharply in the stomach, he gasped, involuntarily releasing all over which his powers were holding sway. "Bitch," he snapped. "Now they're lost to me!"
"Oh, do shut up..." Phobos stretched and reached forward, offering Sabretooth a hand up, which was refused. "None of us want to be here." Turning to Shiva, Phobos added, "Who gave you the authority to call us all here? You know the rules... only Doctor Beck or Professor Xavier can give orders now. Or Magneto."
Kali replied in Shiva's stead. "We need no mortal authority, you piece of manufactured offal!" She shoved Annie and Ernie aside with two of her arms, the necklace of skulls around her neck rattling with each movement. With her other hands, she grabbed Phobos and Demos by the front of their silky clothes and lifted them clear of the floor. "You are false. You demean us!"
"Calmly," Shiva crooned, his eyes crinkling slightly in worry. "They know no better."
"But they do," Kali spat. "They know better than to mock us with their deeds, cast aspersions upon Paradise with their lies and venom!" She threw Phobos and Demos so hard that the crack of their skulls was audible in the metal room. Sabretooth hid his wince, looking straight ahead as Kali rounded on him. "You," she murmured. "You are not false... you have no illusions."
"You are not the judge, Kali-Ma," Shiva said firmly. "You are not Brahma, you are not Indra... Watch your step."
"My step," she smiled. "Yes, my step... The time of destruction is upon us and from death shall rise new life." Her arms crossed in front of her and suddenly flung out to the sides, her head thrown back and chest thrust forward as she inhaled deeply. In her hands now were her symbols save one. Her skirt of black, kilted material had become a gruesome garment of human arms1, a bowl of fire glowed brightly in her lower right hand, a curved blade was coated with blood in her upper right. Her upper left arm extended slowly, the fingers folding into an ancient symbol, as the lower hand turned palm up, empty and waiting. "Now, almost," she breathed. "Almost..."
Shiva held out his hands, one bearing his trident, and the room seemed to grow and pulse before snapping back in on itself like a rubber band. "Patience, my consort. They are coming."
Logan snarled and slashed at the locked door again. "Shit," he hissed, almost looking around guiltily out of habit, checking to make sure no kids cold hear him. The door was thick and locked tight. After four slashes of his metal claws, the door still held fast, layers of metal folding away. It was an odd construction, seemingly made to be taken apart in layers. Logan shouted wordlessly once more, plunging the claws of his right hand through the door entirely, one last futile effort. Savagely, he yanked himself free and swore fluently. "Forge," he snapped into the wrist communicator the other man had cooked up for just such an occasion (and in truth, he had been as giddy as a kid in a candy store when he had been given permission to test the devices that evening with Logan). "Get yer ass over to the North entrance. I'm makin' almost no progress here."
"Need a hand?"
Logan whipped around and dropped to a fighting crouch before snorting and rising slowly. "You the cavalry or somethin'?"
"More like interested passer by," Storm replied, quirking a wry brow. "We were in the neighborhood." As she spoke, two of the Morlocks behind her moved forward and began to press their hands against the door.
Logan was torn between staying where he was and running to Storm to kiss her and scold her for running off like she had. He curbed his mother hen impulse and instead tipped his chin consideringly. "Really, Ro, what are you doing here?"
She looked very tired then, very pale and drawn. Shaking her head slightly, she said just loud enough for him to hear, "I'll have to tell you when there is more time. As it is..." She nodded then, and a figure detached itself from the group to step into the light of the moon.
"Evan," Logan breathed. "Evan...you've...changed..." He tried not to stare at the spikes coming from the teenagers shoulders and wrists, rising in ridges down his arms and barely visible on his back.
Evan did not respond, just glared briefly before turning to his aunt. "Pietro is with Caliban. So is Tarot... She's acting all weird, though."
"Thank you," Storm smiled, her face lighting with genuine emotion as she looked at her nephew. "Ah, here we go."
Logan forced his attention back to the door, or rather where the door had been. The two Morlocks stood to either side of the entry, silent and bland. "What'd you two do?" he demanded, almost insulted by their ease in moving the door.
"You would not understand," one murmured. "We are not your kind."
"Yeah, well," Logan shrugged, starting forward. "Same goes for you, too, doesn't it?"
1 Kali Ma, the dark mother aspect of Kali, is depicted as wearing a belt or skirt made of human arms, a necklace of human heads or skulls and carrying a blood sword in her upper right hand, a bowl of flames, the head of a demon and one hand is making the symbol of fortune/protection/prosperity. She is sometimes referred to as standing on the supine form of her consort Shiva BUT the story is that she trod on a demon child while vanquishing demons and the child turned into the form of Shiva on the battlefield. Not really Shiva at all.