Without any warning we were there, staring at the dark and pain of the world. I could sense it all. All the black matter consuming humanity. But for some odd reason I wasn't afraid. He just laced his fingers with mine and looked at me in a way that...
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I only thought of one thing. I only thought about Peter's hair, illuminated silver in the ribbons of moonlight. I shut my eyelids as tight as they would close.
And I braced myself for death.
And yet...it didn't come. My eyes fluttered open in a great state of confusion. The setting had changed, melted into a small shelter filled with piles of rubble. The group of us stared at each other in confusion as the black smoke dissipated. Nightcrawler laid unconscious on the dust-ridden floor.
"He actually did it," I whispered to myself.
We redirect our attention to the Professor, who was squirming on the ground in pain, clawing at the darkness that was seeping into the deep folds of his head. I could sense it. All of it. All of the terror and dismay and sheer horror of Apocalypse.
"Is he okay?" Scott questioned.
I brushed closer to the Professor, lightly placing my hand to the side of his temple and feeling my skin burn as I did so. His energy was a drop in the sea of darkness that was consuming him whole, a unsatisfied sea that yearned still to drain my energy along with his. My hand flinched away. I stepped back to catch my breath.
Jean answers Scott before I can make the words out, "It's his energy. He's drained."
I heard a collection of footsteps behind me, glancing over to see Raven. Alone.
I immediately rose to my cheeks, rushing to her as I feel the blood heat my face in anxiety. I practically yelled directly into her face, "Where's Peter?"
She looked around herself, "He was just here..." Her voice trailed off when her eyes caught onto something outside. I whipped my head around, witnessing the scene playing out outside.
I knew it was him. I knew that blurry mass of color, stupidly and courageously bashing that major douchewad around like an inanimate punching bag, was Peter. And I loved him for trying to protect us. And I selfishly hated him for putting himself in the direct line of terror. I watched as the bottomless voids Apocalypse had for eyes traced the blur of the boy I loved. His hand caught Peter at his wrist. A terrible feeling hooked itself into the center of my chest and tugged, hard.
Without much forethought, I started straight for the two of them. But something, someone, snagged me from my mission. I looked back at Hank, who stared back with wide, protective eyes.
"Let me go!" I screamed.
"__, don't. If you go out there you'll die," Hank tried to tell me, his logic trying to preserve the amount of casualties the day could bring. "I'm not losing you."
The image of Peter being gripped by Apocalypse blurred as the hot tears stained my complexion, "I don't care!" I screamed again, feeling my throat rub raw. I tried to pull my hand from Hank's grasp, earning a tighter grip from his arms around my torso. I thrashed around in the strong prison of his hold, "Hank! I swear to god! Let me go right now!"
"I'm sorry," he whispered in between my struggles. I kept my eyes locked on Peter.
I witness his arm sprain backwards in an awkward direction. The sounds of his pain haunted my ears with the crunch that sounded as his leg snapped in on itself. And I felt every single bit of it. I felt Peter's pain rip itself beneath my skin, worse than any darkness I have ever felt. Any darkness that Apocalypse could conjure up inside of his twisted, demented head.
"Foolish child."
Peter fell to the ground, clinging to the dirt. The woman from before drew the long, unforgiving blade from her back and prepared to kill the entirety of my world. Apocalypse offered Peter's neck up as a gift. And I suddenly realized to anticipate the death of the one you love is infinitely worse than to anticipate your own. Because in that moment, that terrible, merciless hell of a moment, you realize nothing will ever be the same again.
"End him."
A burst of energy unconsciously shot itself out from by body, sending Hank back onto the ground. I made a mad run toward the shining sword at his throat, knowing I'm nowhere near fast enough to get to him. I knew I was going to be alone again. And there was nothing I could do.
I'll never be fast enough to catch him.
The blade drew down, ready to destroy him. I dropped down to my knees in the doorway, not wishing to see it happen but unable to look away. And then something incredible happened.
The blade missed.
• Book Summaries (In Five Words or Less!)
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