Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and are not used to make me a cent. (Much as I wish otherwise). The story is my vaguely original fiction and therefore do not:
I) Copy without crediting
II) Alter any wording in this story without my express permission.
III) Terrorise small children by reading the mushy bits to them.
However, please:
1) Write to me at the e-mail address below
2) Feel free to criticise, comment and compliment.
3) Archive and distribute freely.
Now, having skipped this part, on with the story . . . .
RogueStar
(brucepat@iafrica.com)
P.S. <<TELEPATHY>>
          [Translations]
P.P.S. Huge apologies and general kowtowing to Tim Mueggenberg and his story 'Scoundrel' from whom I got the idea of an ancestor being able to tell a descendant what he must do in the future.
P.P.S. Even larger apologies to the few, the proud, the misguided ;-) Rogue and Joseph fans.

Part 14

"And in further news . . . ." The sound of paper being shuffled came over the radio, "Notorious Mutant Schizophrenic, David Haller, has regained consciousness and escaped from the sanatorium in which he was recuperating. The public are advised not to confront him directly and to consider him dangerous."

Clicking the radio off, the Professor sank back into his armchair. His son. Awake. After all these years. He sighed, thinking of the boy about whom he had only recently found out. The boy whom he only ever met on the battlefield. A knock sounded on his office door and he pushed his personal problems to the back of his mind.

"Come in."

The door slowly opened and, with the silent ease of a panther, Gambit stepped into the room.

Xavier was surprised to see him, as he had never sought the professor's advice and tended to almost avoid the older man.

"Remy? Take a seat."

The newest X-Man pulled out a chair and sat uncomfortably upon it.

"Cyclops told me you went away recently. It's good to see that you decided to return."

"Oui, sir. Just had t'go home f'r a little while t'settle some unfinished business."

Xavier nodded, knowing by the look on Gambit's face that he should ask no further.

"So. Why have you come to see me on this fine evening?"

"I need t'talk t'ya  bout somet'ing . . . somet'ing important. . . ." He trailed off.

"Rogue?" Xavier prompted.

"Non." Gambit shook his head, "I need y'help."

"I am more than willing to help any of my students with their problems."

"Non, dis ain't a problem." He grinned, "Least I hope not."

"Oh?"

"Ma tante said . . . she said dat I might have more powers dan I t'ought at first." He smiled apologetically.

Xavier returned his smile, "I have long suspected that you had latent telepathic abilities. I also had hoped that you too would come to that realisation and ask my help.  Perhaps you would like to try a small test to see if my suspicions are not unfounded?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "Ain't got not'ing t'lose by it."

"See this pen?" Xavier held up a silver ballpoint. "Concentrate your mind upon it. Feel the energy lying dormant within you. Extend that psionic energy in an arm and grasp the pen, then lift it."

He placed the pen upon the tabletop. Gambit's forehead creased in concentration and his eyes glowed slightly. Perspiration formed on his face from the effort. The pen slowly lifted a few inches into the air and hovered there.

Xavier smiled in satisfaction.

"Excellent. Now gently replace it on the table."

The pen lowered slowly, falling the final inch with a clatter.

"You have definite potential. Some of my earlier students . . . battled with that particular test." He rubbed a finger beneath his chin thoughtfully, "Let us see if your telepathy is as promising as your psychokinetic skills."

"Sir?"

"Try reading my mind."

Effortlessly, Xavier brought a recent memory to the front of his consciousness. A simple, happy one of a picnic with his students. He felt his mind being probed with delicacy and subtlety, like a thief picking a lock. Gambit frowned slightly.

"Dere be a picnic at de front o' y'mind but dat ain't what y'really t'inking of. It be a mask f'r other t'oughts."

Surprise filled Xavier's face.

"What am I *really* thinking of, Remy?"

"Y't'oughts are of a boy. . . David . . . David Haller. He's close t'you. A son, peut-etre? He's sick but it ain't dat you're worried  bout, it's his getting better and what will happen when he does...."

"That's quite enough." Xavier said, a little more sharply than he intended.

"Sorry, sir. Didn't mean t'pry."

"It isn't your fault. In fact, your ability to probe beyond the memory I wished you to see shows you to be a much higher level telepath than I first thought." Xavier regained his composure, "We should stop now anyway. I don't wish to tire you out on your very first lesson with me."

"Tomorrow den?"

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid that a mission awaits the team."

"Mission?"

"Cyclops will brief you."

"Merci, professeur."

Xavier nodded, "My pleasure."

Gambit stood, closing the door behind him as he left. Only when the sound of his footsteps grew faint, Xavier rested his throbbing head against the cool wood of the desk and pondered the integrity of sending his X-Men after his own son.

"Computer?"

"Acknowledged." The electronically-synthesised voice replied, "Please identify."

"Scott Summers."

"Voice analysis complete. Identity confirmed. What is your request, Mr Summers?"

 "Computer: Replay Video Log, number 95-10-2-815."

"Acknowledged. Playback commences in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .1. . ."

The screen flashed into life, showing a slender figure wearing a black cloak. Her silver eyes gleamed from within the darkness that surrounded her.

"I am an ally in an enemy camp; I am also a precognitive. Recently, my visions have shown me a young man, David Haller, who I believe represents the greatest threat to mankind's continued existence since the development of the atomic bomb. He believes that he is helping Xavier to acheive his dream, but the means by which he chooses to accomplish it are a perversion of everything for which Xavier stands. If he is not stopped, his actions will lead to the end of reality. The end of all that is."

The video stopped abruptly and the screen went black. Cyclops stood and cleared his throat, breaking the silence which had fallen over the remainder of the team.

"This message came in this morning on a scrambled communications channel. We can't determine its origin but we also can't ignore the warning which it gives. Unless Haller is stopped, it will mean the end of the entire multiverse in which we live."

"You then believe this . . . ally?" Storm asked.

Cyclops nodded, "The fact that she knows of Haller's connection to Xavier is enough to persuade me of her validity."

"This Haller?" Wolverine said, "We've tangled before."

"Big surprise." Rogue whispered to Gambit, "That boy's tangled with everyone at least once."

"Except he didn't call himself David then. . . ." Wolverine continued, "Kid said his name was Jamall."

"David Haller is a schizophrenic with a healthy dash of MPD on the side." Beast explained, "What makes this case extraordinary is that each of his personalities exhibits a separate psionic power."

"Hence the name Legion." Jean interjected.

"From de ol' quotation,  my name is Legion f'r we are many wit'in dis man?'" Gambit asked.

"Yeah." Rogue nodded, "Didn't know you read th' Good Book much, Remy?"

"Can't grow up in N'Awlins without goin' t'Mass once or twice in y'life, chere."

"Presently Legion is something of a misnomer," Storm said, "His mind seems to have healed itself, become one. Whether this has made him more - or less - powerful remains to be seen."

"Bummer." Iceman joked, "He'll have to find himself a new codename now."

"Bobby, this is no time for clowning around." Cyclops reprimanded, "I have formulated a strategy which I believe will work. Storm, Jean, Iceman and Wolverine will go to Israel to try and dissuade Haller from his mission. . . ."

"An' th' rest o' us?" Rogue interrupted.

"Will stay here." He glared at her, "We cannot kid ourselves. Anti-mutant sentiment is at an all-time high. Mob justice and lynchings are being executed on a daily basis and Haller's actions can only serve to exacerbate an already volatile situation. The remainder of us will be acting as damage control, serving to minimize the public outcry towards mutants; succintly, to clean up the mess that will be created by his actions."

"Great. Jus' what I wanted t'be when I grew up: a janitor." Gambit muttered, "Me, de Prince o' T'ieves, a common cleaner."

Cyclops ignored the comment, "Storm, you will lead the away team. I'll be in charge of the team at home."

"Certainly." The weather-goddess grimaced, "Unfortunately, I cannot say that it is my pleasure to do so."

"I understand, Ororo." Cyclops nodded, "It won't be easy for any of us. It may mean going against every belief for which we have ever stood."

"We ain't got the luxury of being noble. If we have the chance of taking Legion down in any way, we've gotta take it - even if it does compromise a principle or two." Wolverine broke in.

"Logan is correct." Storm sadly said, "The problem which we face goes beyond stopping a villian; beyond fighting for an ideal; beyond good and evil. If we fail, it may very well mean the destruction of the reality in which we live. . . ."

I cannot tell you when it began. When I was broken and when I was healed. It may have begun when I was ten and my father - step-father - was killed before my eyes. A hidden part of me awoke then and I killed them. Incinerated their minds in a burst of energy. I remembered bonding with them as they died; dying eleven deaths of my own. It was then that my friends appeared. Cyndi, Jack and Jamall. They promised they'd protect me; that they'd take my place when I was scared or hurting. "Hey David. Don't worry. We'll make everything alright again." They said when we first met inside my mind. They did. Eventually I became too scared and too hurt to face the world on my own. I hid behind my friends and my mind closed in on itself. The doctors said it was a catatonic state resulting from schizophrenia; I called it a psychic bandaid.

When I woke up, I found that my friends had been left behind but that they'd given me their gifts: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, telepathy and, a new one on me, time-travel.

The last one was my favorite. I used to run time through my fingers like sand. Hours, days, weeks, years, past, future. I was *there*. I could alter events and the repercussions would affect future generations. I was giddy with power. Never heeded Acton's famous aphorism:  Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.' I always felt that it was what you did with power that counted. Me, I wanted to use my power for good; to help my father as I had been unable to do with Daniel Shomron, my step-father. I wanted to give Xavier his dream . . . .

The sand blew across the Negev Desert. The night was cold in constrast to the stifling heat of the day. The lone figure, who was walking across the dunes, paused momentarily to shake the sand out of his garments. It would have been easier to simply create a telekinetic sheath around himself and protect himself from the elements in that way; but he rested, conserving his energy for the task ahead. The desert was the perfect place to complete his destiny. Deserted. Lonely. Harsh. No-one would ever think of looking for him there, except . . . . Haller smiled slightly as he recognised the mindprints of some of his father's students. His X-Men. It was fitting that they should be there to witness the beginning of the new age. To recognise his role in its inception. An unnatural silence settled across the landscape as even the wind stopped blowing.

"So, you have come to join in the celebrations?" He asked.

"No. We are here to stop you." The woman's white hair marked her as a mutant.

"Surely you of all people recognise the need to eliminate Magneto. That to acheive my father's dream, he must be destroyed."

"Death is never a solution. Xavier believes in that - as do we."

"Xavier realises what must be done, but is too weak to do it." Haller countered.

"And you are strong enough to? Strong enough to take a man's life?"

"If I have to."

"I am afraid that we cannot permit that." Storm said.

" Ro here asks nicely, but you don't got a choice." Claws emerged from the man's hands. "We're prepared to take you down. By any means necessary."

"So you would kill me to prevent Magneto's death?" Haller sounded amused. "How hypocritical. How presumptuous. How unexpected."

"We are not here to kill you. Rather to persuade you of the error of your ways." Jean interjected.

"I'm afraid that you're the ones who are wrong." David shrugged, "This is the only way."

"So, you ain't gonna go easy." Wolverine grinned, "I like a kid with spunk. Too bad I gotta knock it out of you."

David lifted a hand, throwing a bolt of pure psionic energy at Wolverine. It hit him in the sternum, knocking him to his feet.

"You now see the power of the new, whole me. I can do that to any of you without so much as blinking an eye."

"Remind me of that *after* I've put you on ice."

An ice-sheath formed around Haller; wrapping itself snugly to his body; dropping his body temperature; freezing his blood in his veins; inducing hypothermia.

"Good try." His breath misted into smoke as he spoke. "But what's the use of ice against a pyrokinetic?"

Flames flared out from him, turning the sheath into so much water. With a twisted smile, Haller shifted his attention to Iceman, forming a ball of fire between two hands. Wolverine sprang onto him in a fluid motion and pinned his arms by his side.

"Now, Storm! Hit him with everything you've got." He yelled.

Lightning crackled in the air, then fizzled in a shower of sparks as it hit Haller's telekinetic shield.

"Is that all you have?" He flung Wolverine to one side, "Because I haven't even begun to play yet."

"What do you mean?" Jean asked, fear in her blue eyes.

"Let's dispense with the foreplay, shall we?" He leered, "It's time to see if my powers are truly of the standard that I believe them to be. I will travel back in time to the moment before my father and Magneto became what they are today. By killing Magnus there, I will alter time. The future. Make it better and brighter for all."

"You're insane." Jean gasped. "Sweet lord, you're insane."

"I am very much sane." Annoyance registered on his face. "I am far more sane than I have ever been before."

"I hoped it wouldn't have to come down to this." She said, "But I will stop you. No matter what."

An aura of psionic energy flared from her mind, attacking Haller. Bringing up forgotten sorrows. Old pain. Festering wounds. Surprisingly enough, Haller smiled.

"Xavier has taught you well, Jean. But I am far, far better than you could ever hope to be."

Jean's scream tore through the quiet landscape.

"Jeannie?" Wolverine snarled, "What have you done to her?"

"Turned her mind-probe against herself. Let her taste my anguish, my suffering."

"I'll get you for that . . . ." he growled.

"I'm afraid that we've wasted enough time here." Haller said, "It is time that I complete my father's dream. Begin the end."

He paused, considering something.

"I am not completely unfair. I will give you the opportunity of seeing Xavier's dream fulfilled. Of being there at the moment when the world was made better. After all, who better to witness it's inception than those who have fought so long and hard for it?"

Energy flashed over the Negev Desert in a dazzling display of power, leaving in its wake a silent and empty landscape. Empty but for a lone figure. Jean Grey.

Gunfire rattled throughout the building. Bodies fell. Screams. Still, the fighting continued.

Increasing in ferocity as tensions between the sides grew. An explosion tore through the walls as if they were made of cardboard. . . .

"Change th' channel, sugah. We get enough o' this every day." Rogue leaned back against the couch.

Gambit clicked the remote in annoyance.

"Oui. De most  volatile' situation dat's been all day is when we ran out o' popcorn."

"My dear M'sieu leBeau, that was a crisis of most epic proportions." Beast laughed, "Fortunately the handy Minimart down the road saved the day once more."

"Pass th' nachos, please."

"Dey're finished, chere." Gambit grinned, "Should know, I ate de last one."

"Hmmp. Popcorn?"

"Here." Beast handed her the bowl.

"Hank?" Rogue paused in the process of putting a handful in her mouth, "Have you been eatin' this with your toes again?"

Beast faked a look of innocence, "Would I do something so generally disgusting, repulsive and unhygenic? And me a doctor to boot!"

"Great." Rogue dropped the kernels back in the bowl. "What videos did y'all get?"

"Two testaments to Hollywood greatness." Beast replied, "Pocahontas and Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls. Carrey's performance is superlative by anyone's standards."

"Hank." Rogue laughed, "Next time let me choose th' videos, okay?"

"And sit through  Gone with the Wind for the googleth time? As my buddy Thor would answer: I say thee nay!"

"I don' mind." Gambit grinned, "I like pushy women wit' Southern accents."

"An' here Ah thought you liked them slightly homicidal."

Despite the flippant tone of her words, the undercurrent of hurt remained evident.

"Rogue . . . ."

"Forget it." She smiled wryly, "Ah guess Ah'm still a bit shook up over th' Belle incident."

"I woulda told you." Gambit said, "Jus' didn't know how."

"Ah said don't worry  bout it."

"Mebbe I shoulda tried: you're lookin' lovely t'night, Rogue; an', by de way, I used t'be married but she died." He mused.

"Might o' worked." Rogue wrapped her arms around herself.

"Dead wives? Skeletons in the closet? Twisted schemes?" Beast laughed, "When did I end up the biggest and bluest cast-member of Days of our Lives? Much as I hate to spoil the fun, we should begin our foray into fine films forthwith. So much to watch and..."

"Way too much time?" Gambit interrupted.

"Indubitably." Beast slid a cassette into the VCR and pressed the play button. "Enjoy!"

"I'm afraid that that will have to wait until later." Cyclops said, walking into the room. "I have received a very disturbing communication from Jean."

He turned towards the television.

"Computer? This is Scott Summers. End broadcast and replay last logged message."

"Acknowledged."

Jean's face appeared on the video-screen. Her red hair was windblown and tangled and her face, scratched by the grains of sand, was terrified.

"Scott. They've . . . they've disappeared. Ororo, Bobby, Logan - they've all disappeared. God knows where. We've failed. Couldn't stop Legion. . . far . . . more powerful than we first imagined. Heaven help us all. We've failed." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Nothing more we can do, except watch and wait as the end of the world comes. As reality fractures."

The transmission broke up into static, an incongrous note in the quiet of the room; as somber as any grave.

"Mah lawd." Rogue whispered, "It really is th' end."

Beast nodded slowly. "If you will excuse me, I need. . .need to speak with Tish. She must be warned of the impending armageddon."

He stood and walked out of the room, closing the door as he left.

"You're excused." Cyclops said mechanically.

He looked at the two young mutants before him; at the fear and desperation in their eyes, reflected in his own heart. He wanted to reassure them but he couldn't, any more than he could reassure himself.

"I'm flying to Israel in a few minutes to be with Jean. These could be my last few hours and I don't want to spend them alone." Cyclops hesitated."I just want to say that . . . that I was wrong."

"About what, Scott?" Rogue asked.

"About both of you." He looked her in the eyes, "I misjudged you. I thought you were out to destroy everything that I'd - we'd - worked for; when really you believed in the exact same things that I did. I've been meaning to say this for some while, but it looks like this might be my last and only chance. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She hugged him, "Go be with Jean. She needs you more than we do."

Cyclops nodded and walked off in the direction of the hangar.

"An' don' worry, fearless leader, we'll lock up after ya. Wouldn't want de four horsemen breakin' in or anyt'ing."  Gambit called after his retreating figure.

"Th' whole world's gonna end an' you're makin' jokes?" Rogue said sharply, "Can't you evah be serious about anythin'?"

"Y'be right, Rogue." He looked at the floor, "It jus' seems so impossible dat t'morrow ain't gonna come."

"But it ain't." She sat next to him, resting her head against his shoulder. "It ain't."

"Ever wonder what comes after dis, chere?"

"Ah don't want ta spend mah last few minutes thinkin'  bout what's going ta happen ta us once we die. Ah want ta enjoy what we have right here an' now. Ah love you an' it ain't fair that it's all gonna end so soon. Not now that Ah'm only beginnin' ta realise how much."

"Den maybe it's time dat I *showed* you how much I love you, chere, instead o' telling you."

"Remy? Ah . . ."

"Shh . . . no more talkin'." He grinned cockily, "Dis could be our last kiss, y'know."

"Our first an' last kiss." She corrected.

"Helluva way t'end de world."

His lips met hers, fear and pain subsiding as they touched; the world drifting away into crystal infinity....

The crystal stone sparkled in the moonlight as Charles Xavier turned it over in the palm of his hands.

"It's beautiful." His best friend commented, "When will you get the courage to propose to Gabby?"

Xavier laughed, "I'll ask her today."

"That's what you've said for the past week."

"I know, Erik." He grinned, "I just can't help wondering about the propriety of it all. Is it really ethical for a doctor to marry his patient?"

"Does it matter?"

"No."

"Then ask her." Erik Lehnsherr smiled sadly, "I know from experience that love is too precious to let go for ethics or propriety."

"Have you had any word about Magda?" Xavier's voice was gentle.

"None." He bowed his head, "She might as well be dead."

"I'm sorry."

"No, *I* am sorry, for clouding a joyous occasion such as this with my own sorrows."

"You needn't apologise to me." Xavier clapped a hand upon Lehnsherr's shoulder. "What else are friends for?"

"To celebrate your last night as a free man with, of course!" Erik smiled, "I know of an excellent bar a few blocks from here. We can drink to Gabrielle' and your health there."

"I  m afraid that you should save those toasts for yourself." An unfamiliar voice from behind them said, "You will need them once I am finished with you."

"Who -- ?" Erik Lehnsherr spun around angrily.

A smile spread, like an oil slick, across the face of the young man who had spoken.

"Names aren't important. It is what I have come to do that is."

"What do you want, boy?" He replied, "My patience is wearing thin with these riddles."

"I am here on a noble mission." The stranger's eyes gleamed, "A mission to show my father how much I love him. I come under the banner of harmony and union between two diverse species."

"What are talking about? Are you insane?"

"The world I come from is a terrible place and the blame is incumbent upon your shoulders." He smiled, "But what if you had never been around to taint the dream with your own twisted vision? What if instead of conflict, there had been cooperation? Would my world not have been different, better?"

"You condemn me for something I have not yet done?" Erik was incredulous, "Is this your dream, your justice?"

"Your death will prevent those of countless others in my time. To sacrifice one man for future thousands is logical." He shrugged.

" Logical is not necessarily analogous to right."

"I have learnt there is no absolute wrong or right."

"There is always a difference."

"You say that now." His face twisted, "But you don't believe it. One day, you will become the greatest villian that mankind has ever known. I have been given an opportunity to stop you and I will seize it. Goodbye, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr."

Psionic energy formed in a blade at his fingertips, phosphorescent in the night air.

"ERIK!" Xavier screamed and flung himself in the path of the beam.

It struck him square in the chest, killing him on contact. Stupified, Haller looked at his corpse before the enormity of what had happened began to register.

"No . . . FATHER!" Haller yelled, "You're . . . dead . . . ."

"Hurry! Maybe we can still stop him."

 Footsteps came thundering up the street and the three time displaced X-Men skidded to a standstill in front of the flaccid figure of Charles Xavier.

"You're too late." Haller bowed his head.

"Chuck's dead?" Wolverine asked, bending over the Professor and feeling his pulse, "Then ...."

"The X-Men were never founded." Storm finished, "And Haller was never born."

"Hate to state the obvious." Iceman said, "But we are all obviously still here, how does that work?"

Haller turned to face them, his voice hollow when he spoke.

"We are chronal anomalies existing outside time, as we have no place to return to in  reality'."

"You're saying we are in a kind of chronal stasis?" Storm asked.

"Yes. A temporary stasis."

"How long do we have before . . . ?" Iceman asked.

"Fifteen minutes."

"Haller." The windrider said urgently, "Can you timetravel back and stop yourself from killing Xavier?"

Legion's forehead creased in concentration.

"No. There is something *wrong* with time; it's unstable, approaching breakdown. I can't."

"Then we all die." Storm said grimly.

"Not necessarily,  Ro." Wolverine grinned, pocketing the pen with which he had been writing. "There might be a way."

He gestured to a child hiding in the shadows, watching the scene with wide eyes.

"Come here, kid."

She approached them, dragging her feet behind her in the dust.

"Please don't hurt me, sir. I didn't mean any harm."

"No-one is going to be hurt." Storm knelt, "What is your name, little one?"

"Rebecca."

"Rebecca. There's somethin' I wanna give to you. It's very important that you take good care of it." Wolverine said slowly. "The whole world could depend on you."

She nodded.

"Here." He handed her a piece of paper, "You've gotta keep this very safe and, when you have kids, give it to them. It can't be lost. Ever."

"Why is this *paper* so important?" Rebecca asked.

"There ain't no time to explain. Guard it with your life."

"Sir . . . ."

" Bye, Rebecca. I'm trusting you."

In the time it took the child to blink, the four figures imploded in a whispered rush of air. Mouth opened in a surprised circle,  Rebecca Haller clutched the paper. Now, it was all up to her . . . .

The present.

10.15
"Mom! Mom! The sky is full of diamonds!"
"Honey, how many times have I told you not to tell stori . . . ohmigod."
Silence

10.20
"This is inexplicable . . . ." The elderly scientist turned away from the telescope in disgust, "Here, Krycek, take a look."
"What is going on?"
Silence.

10.25
"Dinner was divine, darling! That veal was out of this world!"
"Tomorrow, then?"
"Of course! Not even ragnarok itself could keep me away!"
Silence.

10.30
"Fido? Fido? What are you barking at, stupid mutt?"
Silence.

10.45
"Repent! For the day of judgement is at hand. The Lord shall gather his faithful unto him as he comes in his chariot of fire! Repent and be saved! If you confess your sins to the Lord, he shall forgive you!"
Silence.

10.50
"The government would like to advise all citizens not to panic. This is *not* the end of the world, merely a meterological phenomenon of unknown origin. . . ."
Silence.

10.55
"Groovy, Lara. This is one crazy lightshow whatever it is. . . ."
"Co. . ."
Silence.

The world ended with no coming of angels nor blowing of trumpets; with no explosion of light or revelation; with neither bang nor whimper, but almost apologetically in a silent tomb of glass. A crystal landscape, dazzling in its icy splendor. A monument to the death of a dream...

Continued in Chapter 15.

Footnotes:
1. "My name is Legion . . . for we are many within this man" is found in Mark 5:9. The translation I used is not the usual one, but the one which conveys the idea the best. The NIV and NRSV do not have the  within this man'.
2. Do I feel biblical or what? The four horsemen are said to come at the end of the world. They are (in no particular order): War, Famine, Pestilence, Death.
3. Scuse the really mushy kiss scene. My only knowledge of kisses comes from 'fine' magazine literature. "Oh, River-Eagle-Breeze. Your lips are like the strawberries mummy used to pick when we were small."
5. MPD = multiple personality disorder.
6. Why did Wolvie have a pen with him? Uh ... he was filling out forms when Cyke called them for a mission and ... um ... didn't have time to put it ... uh ... away. Yeah, that's it.

* Diamonds may be forever, but crystals are not
* A whole new world
* Haller gets stopped!
* The evil Brains of Baseness (B.O.B) gets crushed!

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