#328 - Revolution
Revolution
Red, then, and a woman, and here, and they don't even question when she tells them she's Askani, that she's from the future, and the ship tells them they're out of time (ha ha) and Scott hands her her baby, her Nathan Christopher Charles Summers Askani'son, gripped in a spreading technorganic virus, twisted by the transmode and still, and always, the hope of every future.
*
Emma sleeps fitfully, hands crossed protectively over her belly.
*
Forge's hands move by instinct, guided by ability, by a power he can not adequately explain but trusts on a, pun though it is, genetic level; it's night and he should be sleeping but his head is full of cathedrals of silica and light and the laughter of beautiful, glittering children and he thinks, I will build you; I will build each and every one of you.
*
Osborn scowls, now at the screens, now at his team, lolling around the table, discussing trivialities as if they were of vital importance, and he's thinking how he should have killed that Kree boy; he should have killed Daken, who smirks at him, fingers moving obscenely; should have killed Karla, poor, broken, brilliant Karla; but there will be time, so much time, he will be so much larger, so much grander than presidents and emperors and the poor saps who'll vote him in, over and over, because he knows what they want and what they need; he thinks of all these things, and not of his son, or of birthdays, passed and gone.
*
Red, then, King/Queen, Ra and Horus, force and fire, life for life; and there shall be a testing, oh, yes; there shall be such a baptism as never there was.
*
Magneto looks up the Mutate bio-engines, up the creeper-lined walls, up to the over-arcing dome and the trees beyond, the sky above, space all the way up. Stars like diamonds in the black. He thinks of plasma, of impossibly large spheres of celestial fire. He thinks of change, of process, of a girl on a statue. He thinks of the past. He thinks of the present. He thinks of a thousand futures and of one, of One.
Six ways to rule the universe, Magneto thinks. Through subterfuge; through children; by creating it yourself; through politics; through religion; and, ultimately, through might. Global revolution. Global reform. It was just a matter of whose will was stronger.
Red, then, and a woman, and here, and they don't even question when she tells them she's Askani, that she's from the future, and the ship tells them they're out of time (ha ha) and Scott hands her her baby, her Nathan Christopher Charles Summers Askani'son, gripped in a spreading technorganic virus, twisted by the transmode and still, and always, the hope of every future.
*
Emma sleeps fitfully, hands crossed protectively over her belly.
*
Forge's hands move by instinct, guided by ability, by a power he can not adequately explain but trusts on a, pun though it is, genetic level; it's night and he should be sleeping but his head is full of cathedrals of silica and light and the laughter of beautiful, glittering children and he thinks, I will build you; I will build each and every one of you.
*
Osborn scowls, now at the screens, now at his team, lolling around the table, discussing trivialities as if they were of vital importance, and he's thinking how he should have killed that Kree boy; he should have killed Daken, who smirks at him, fingers moving obscenely; should have killed Karla, poor, broken, brilliant Karla; but there will be time, so much time, he will be so much larger, so much grander than presidents and emperors and the poor saps who'll vote him in, over and over, because he knows what they want and what they need; he thinks of all these things, and not of his son, or of birthdays, passed and gone.
*
Red, then, King/Queen, Ra and Horus, force and fire, life for life; and there shall be a testing, oh, yes; there shall be such a baptism as never there was.
*
Magneto looks up the Mutate bio-engines, up the creeper-lined walls, up to the over-arcing dome and the trees beyond, the sky above, space all the way up. Stars like diamonds in the black. He thinks of plasma, of impossibly large spheres of celestial fire. He thinks of change, of process, of a girl on a statue. He thinks of the past. He thinks of the present. He thinks of a thousand futures and of one, of One.
Six ways to rule the universe, Magneto thinks. Through subterfuge; through children; by creating it yourself; through politics; through religion; and, ultimately, through might. Global revolution. Global reform. It was just a matter of whose will was stronger.