X-Calibre - The Omega

Epilogue
Jon walked silently down the hallway, observing the various residents of the complex working on restoring the whole building to its fullest potential. He remained quiet throughout the whole meeting, half expecting to get some verbal backlash for his irrational behavior. None came, and that was fine. Ever since they had come back all he’d been doing was thinking about the mental flashback he had back in Coventry.

Fighting to put his life back into perspective.

Jonathan constantly fought against the ‘Guardian’ persona that was programmed into his mind… no, correct that… drilled into his mind, fighting for dominance over the persona he crafted for himself to help him move on in life.

He’d just been questioned how long it would take for Jon to fight this internal battle.

{Guardian?} a cold voice called out to him, cold enough to even send a slight shiver down Jon’s spine.

Prescott turned around, coming face-to-face, eye-to-eye with the ice form of Freezer Burn. “What do you want, Bobby?”

{I know what you did back at the airport,} Freezer Burn said, the frost from his voice hanging in the air between them. {If I hadn’t managed stop that bomb, we would have all be killed along with hundreds of innocents. I. Won’t. Have. That!} The blue orbs blazed, growing brighter and bluer. {I’ll be watching you, Guardian. If you slip up, I’ll be there to put you in your place. Remember that.}

Freezer Burn shrank a few inches and turned back into the human form of Robert Gibney before he turned his back to Jon, intentionally, and walked away.

Guardian tilted his head in thought and, without replying, turned back to the direction of his quarters and resumed his walk.

Through her interface with Mastermold, Kristen Kross observed the little confrontation between the two mutants, and reminded herself to keep on eye on those two in the future.

London, England
Capital of the Human High Council

“Australia is coming along well. Fortunately this continent remained very isolated during the Age of Apocalypse,” Emma Frost reported, the scar on the side of her head was beginning to fade from sight as the woman’s hair began to grow over it. “Sydney will be completely restored to where it should be by 2006. I am still fuzzy, however, on where you’re getting the resources and money for this. The global economy has hardly recovered in the years after Apocalypses death.”

Leaning back in his plush chair in his personal luxurious room, Victor Von Doom sipped from a golden goblet before replying to his fellow council member. “The resourcefulness of Doom need not concern you, Emma. Just accept the fact that I can get things done for you. You know I want Sydney to be the second capital. The Human High Council needs to spread out, be amongst the people, and I will do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal.”

Emma nodded. “The Doombot’s you created are a marvel, but, they can’t replace the determination of the people down here to finally move on.” Her forehead scrunched in thought, “What about plans for America? They’re the least governed country in the world. They could benefit from our influence.”

Victor brushed aside the woman’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, Doom has plans for America, but I’m afraid I have to put them on hold until Stark’s war with Ultron comes to an end, one way or another. I won’t risk my resources until then.”

“Very well, Council Leader; I will report back in another three days.”

The screen went blank and Doom turned his chair, glancing out of the window that overlooked the capital. Victor sighed, as he motioned for a servant to take his cup.

“Sir,” one called.

Doom turned back and saw that his communications screen was flashing. “Everybody, leave Doom’s quarters now,” he ordered, and when he was certain all were gone, he turned on the screen. “How did everything go?”

“The intelligence you gathered on Nightcrawler’s team was more accurate than expected. The mutants acted just as predicated, and we were able to capture all but three within the first few minutes they were at the airport,” reported a nameless FoH solider. “The weapons you supplied worked exactly like specified.”

Doom’s eyes shrank. “Of course the intelligence was accurate, or do you believe that Doom’s word means nothing?”

Even on the other side of the country, the man looked visibly shaken. “No, sir. I didn’t mean to imply that at all.”

“Good. The information you’ve given pleases me. Send me the footage you’ve gathered, and any data from the other FoH stations around the world,” he ordered and immediately flicked off the screen before the soldier could verbally comply.

Victor pushed a hidden button in the arm of his chair and minutes later the huge doors opened and one man with dark brown hair that was graying slightly at the temples, dressed in a dark blue uniform with a patch over his left eye, walked into the room.

The doors closed behind him.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke in my quarters,” Doom stated as the cigar smoke quickly dominated the fresh, circulated air.

“Sorry, bad habit,” the man said, but made zero effort to extinguish the cigar. “I assume everything went well?”

Doom nodded. “Of course. We should have the database of every active mutant in the world completed in a few months,” Doom motioned for the man to sit down. “Now, let us discuss Michigan.”

The End…

· Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7


	· Muir Island \| Team Roster \| Team History \| The World THE OMEGA When there's nowhere left to run, no place left to hide, and nobody left to turn to. Humanity's last best hope will lie in the very mutants they've sought to destroy... Epilogue Jon walked silently down the hallway, observing the various residents of the complex working on restoring the whole building to its fullest potential. He remained quiet throughout the whole meeting, half expecting to get some verbal backlash for his irrational behavior. None came, and that was fine. Ever since they had come back all he’d been doing was thinking about the mental flashback he had back in Coventry. Fighting to put his life back into perspective. Jonathan constantly fought against the ‘Guardian’ persona that was programmed into his mind… no, correct that… drilled into his mind, fighting for dominance over the persona he crafted for himself to help him move on in life. He’d just been questioned how long it would take for Jon to fight this internal battle. {Guardian?} a cold voice called out to him, cold enough to even send a slight shiver down Jon’s spine. Prescott turned around, coming face-to-face, eye-to-eye with the ice form of Freezer Burn. “What do you want, Bobby?” {I know what you did back at the airport,} Freezer Burn said, the frost from his voice hanging in the air between them. {If I hadn’t managed stop that bomb, we would have all be killed along with hundreds of innocents. I. Won’t. Have. That!} The blue orbs blazed, growing brighter and bluer. {I’ll be watching you, Guardian. If you slip up, I’ll be there to put you in your place. Remember that.} Freezer Burn shrank a few inches and turned back into the human form of Robert Gibney before he turned his back to Jon, intentionally, and walked away. Guardian tilted his head in thought and, without replying, turned back to the direction of his quarters and resumed his walk. Through her interface with Mastermold, Kristen Kross observed the little confrontation between the two mutants, and reminded herself to keep on eye on those two in the future. London, England Capital of the Human High Council “Australia is coming along well. Fortunately this continent remained very isolated during the Age of Apocalypse,” Emma Frost reported, the scar on the side of her head was beginning to fade from sight as the woman’s hair began to grow over it. “Sydney will be completely restored to where it should be by 2006. I am still fuzzy, however, on where you’re getting the resources and money for this. The global economy has hardly recovered in the years after Apocalypses death.” Leaning back in his plush chair in his personal luxurious room, Victor Von Doom sipped from a golden goblet before replying to his fellow council member. “The resourcefulness of Doom need not concern you, Emma. Just accept the fact that I can get things done for you. You know I want Sydney to be the second capital. The Human High Council needs to spread out, be amongst the people, and I will do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal.” Emma nodded. “The Doombot’s you created are a marvel, but, they can’t replace the determination of the people down here to finally move on.” Her forehead scrunched in thought, “What about plans for America? They’re the least governed country in the world. They could benefit from our influence.” Victor brushed aside the woman’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, Doom has plans for America, but I’m afraid I have to put them on hold until Stark’s war with Ultron comes to an end, one way or another. I won’t risk my resources until then.” “Very well, Council Leader; I will report back in another three days.” The screen went blank and Doom turned his chair, glancing out of the window that overlooked the capital. Victor sighed, as he motioned for a servant to take his cup. “Sir,” one called. Doom turned back and saw that his communications screen was flashing. “Everybody, leave Doom’s quarters now,” he ordered, and when he was certain all were gone, he turned on the screen. “How did everything go?” “The intelligence you gathered on Nightcrawler’s team was more accurate than expected. The mutants acted just as predicated, and we were able to capture all but three within the first few minutes they were at the airport,” reported a nameless FoH solider. “The weapons you supplied worked exactly like specified.” Doom’s eyes shrank. “Of course the intelligence was accurate, or do you believe that Doom’s word means nothing?” Even on the other side of the country, the man looked visibly shaken. “No, sir. I didn’t mean to imply that at all.” “Good. The information you’ve given pleases me. Send me the footage you’ve gathered, and any data from the other FoH stations around the world,” he ordered and immediately flicked off the screen before the soldier could verbally comply. Victor pushed a hidden button in the arm of his chair and minutes later the huge doors opened and one man with dark brown hair that was graying slightly at the temples, dressed in a dark blue uniform with a patch over his left eye, walked into the room. The doors closed behind him. “I wish you wouldn’t smoke in my quarters,” Doom stated as the cigar smoke quickly dominated the fresh, circulated air. “Sorry, bad habit,” the man said, but made zero effort to extinguish the cigar. “I assume everything went well?” Doom nodded. “Of course. We should have the database of every active mutant in the world completed in a few months,” Doom motioned for the man to sit down. “Now, let us discuss Michigan.” The End… · Chapter: 1 \| 2 \| 3 \| 4 \| 5 \| 6 \| 7
BLAH