Cyclops felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end followed by a shiver down his spine. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw nothing. He turned back and fired at Man of War. Much to his displeasure, the Man shrugged off the shot and ignored Cyclops.

Cyc touched his visor to up the power release when he was suddenly engulfed in a strangling mist. He tried to hold his breath and move from the source. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jean. She was locked in a mental battle with the man next to Man of War but she was very aware of his distress.

"Cyclops!" she cried out mentally and verbally, her shields lessened and Controller moved in for the final blow.

Cyc watched as Jean slid to the floor and was motionless just as his world start to fade and blackness swirl around him.

Jasmine raised herself up a few feet from the floor to avoid any rumble caused by Rogue's body slamming into the walls, floor or ceiling. She eyed Kim with a quirky smile on her face.

Kim snarled a smile back at her as they faced off. He circled her warily but not without confidence. "This time, Metallica, you bring down the roof, you kill your friends."

"True," she said with a smile. "The question is, is their deaths worth the destruction of your boss?"

"You would not sacrifice them," Kim retorted.

"But you don't know that for sure, do you?" she continued, her smile twisted into a sadistic grin.

Kim flung his knives at her as she attacked simultaneously with her magnetic bolts. Both were hit. Jasmine stifled a scream of pain as the knives dug into left her hip, right side, and right wrist. She managed to deflect the other two knives, one would have been a direct hit to her throat and the other her chest.

Kim grunted as the first magnetic bolt caught him square in the chest and flung him backward into a wall. He felt his ribs crack and break under the impact. He scrambled to his feet and returned fire first with two knives and with a thought, he twisted the one still in Jasmine's hip.

Jasmine cried out this time, unable to hold back the pain. She grasped at the knife in her hip and tried to stop it from digging in further. In a desperate attempt, she deflected the two knives, reached out with her remaining energy, and latched onto a metal beam above Kim. With a jerk of her power, she tore the beam down at Kim's head.

Wolverine circled with Viper, their eyes bore into each other. Viper faked a forward attack and then feigned an offensive to the left. Wolverine flinched at both but never fell for the phony attacks. He twisted and turned from the third straight forward attack, slashed at Viper's swords and then leapt back as Viper danced past. He slashed at the back of Viper's head with his claws.

Viper's head recoiled at the touch of the claws connecting with his scalp. He felt the warm liquid mix with sweat and run freely down the back of his neck. "First blood, eh, gijain?"

Wolverine snarled. "Ya talk too much, Viper!"

He dove in for the attack at the same moment that Viper vaulted towards Wolverine. Both parried, slashed, cut, blocked, dodged, and leapt around each other in a hypnotic dance of death. The blood and sweat from their bodies sprayed all around them as they increased the speed of their actions. Vocal expressions were in the form of grunts, hisses, and gasping breath. The roar of blood and ferocity pounded in their ears, as they became oblivious to all around them and only aware of the combatant in front of them.

Nightcrawler, a bit disorientated from falling through the continuous gateways, managed to count the time between gateways so he could teleport out without hitting either of the portals. If he did not, then, he would end up being teleported into a thousand bitsy blue elf pieces.

He held his breath, counted in German, and on two, he teleported. He slowly opened one eye and found himself in the warehouse. He looked down. His body was all one piece, not even a missing hair. He checked his tail just to be sure and then spotted the cloaked man.

"Now, mein Freund, you are mine," he assured the man mentally. He teleported and landed on the cloaked man's back, punching him in the back of the head and teleported away. The cloaked man reeled forward from the blow. His gloved hand touched the back of his head as he spun around. His long, cloak whipped around his body in equal anger of the wearer. He peered out from beneath the hood, icy, piercing pale blue eyes hunted and found his prey.

"But for that you will pay," he hissed.

"Nein," Nightcrawler chattered. "Dat vas for zee ride from earlier."

"That was nothing," he assured the teleporter with a smirk.

"Vell, at least you are modest." Nightcrawler teleported as the cloaked man brought his hands up. Nightcrawler teleported onto the man's shoulders and struck hard with another blow to the back of his head. As Nightcrawler was about to teleport away, he realized he was on Archangel's back and had just hit his teammate. "Scheisse!"

Archangel struggled to maintain consciousness. "Damn it, Nightie!"

"Sorry," he said meaningfully. "It zeems mein Freund down zare iz very fast with his portals."

"You think?" Archangel snarled. He twisted in the air, dodging the bullets from his own attacker. "Pick someone else. Maybe the girl."

Nightcrawler eyed Storm's situation. The girl was beating down on her without mercy with lasers from her bejeweled wrists. "Got it."

He teleported.

Jewel continued her onslaught on Storm as the Windrider was valiantly trying to defend herself. "Maybe you should have surrendered."

Storm did not bother with an answer; instead, she slammed more lightening hard onto Jewel's shield. She could feel her device start to buckle from the overload of electricity and then she smelled the brimstone just before she felt the blow. A hard crack to the back of her head sent her world spinning.

He saw Jewel fall from the sky and Nightcrawler teleport from her. His attention was no longer on the blue-skinned Archangel; it was on the blue-furred Nightcrawler. He snarled as he called on all his senses to find the teleporting demon. He brought his rifle up and the scope to his eye. In the shadow, hanging on the wall, was Nightcrawler. He brought the targeting hairs to the center of the XMan's forehead and then lowered it; slowly, gently, he squeezed the trigger.

Tracker lowered the rifle and watched with satisfaction as Nightcrawler fell from the wall and hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Prick." Nobody hurt his little girl without paying the price.

Controller slowly removed himself from Jean's mind, careful to make sure that he had not done any permanent damage. He paused for a moment and peeked inside a partially open door. Although, he was a telepath and had been called up more than once to extracted information from less than cooperative individuals, Controller was not a nosey person. But something nagged at him to look behind that door.

He approached slowly, aware of any tricks or deceptions but instead he found one of her final thoughts as she lost consciousness.

"Oh, boy." He shook his head as it was revealed to him.

He was aware she was flying toward him, coming in for a second attack. He had hurt her physically, of that, he was sure, but worst of all, he had wounded her pride. She was Rogue of the XMen, invulnerable to most things especially to physical attacks. Not this time.

He was Man of War.

He smiled to himself as she swooped down at him. He dodged her attack with little effort, and let her gain momentum for her next attack. He waited; his feet planted firmly and faced her, shoulders squared. He signaled her to come at him again.

She took the bait.

"Bastard," she swore at him as she built up speed for her dive attack. She painfully tried to get air past her broken ribs as she braced herself for the attack. She swooped down at him. "Ah'm gonna wipe you up, arrogant bastard."

Her fists in front of her, she aimed square for his chest. Suddenly his hands were up and engulfed hers. He dropped and rolled onto his back, still holding her hands, slammed her onto her back over his head as he continued his roll and ended up straddling her. He looked down into her pained, green eyes; one hand around her throat as the other fist drew back.

Jasmine gradually got to her feet and surveyed her work on Kim. She peered into the rumble. He was not there. A chill went down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

She spun around on sheer instinct. Kim was behind her, his knives in flight at her. She succeeded in stopping three out of five knives. One clipped her shoulder and sliced deep on its way past. The second pierced her chest between her ribcage.

"Jesus," she cried out in pain as the knife dug into her flesh. Her stomach turned at the pain and weakly she dropped to her knees. Her hand automatically went to the wound to stop the bleeding. "This is a pisser."

Kim snarled in satisfaction as Jasmine fell forward onto one hand. He limped closer to her as he wiped his blood-matted hair off of his face.

"Your time is at an end, bitch," Kim advised her as he materialized his knives.

Jasmine raised her head, her green eyes filled with hatred as she glared at him from beneath her sweat-streaked hair. "Come on, you conceited son of a bitch."

Kim raised his knives as Jasmine, shakingly, leaned back on her heels and raised her open palm as it gathered magnetic force to her.

Kitku groaned and tried to open her eyes. Sounds of fighting were like a dull din on her ears as if she was underwater. She tried again to open her eyes and get up. Her body was heavy and uncooperative.

She could barely hear a voice right next to her ear and felt the touch of lips as the speaker tried to force her to hear whatever he or she was saying. Kitku wanted to reach up and grab the speaker by the shirt and let them know she was here and alive.

Maybe they thought she was dead. Was that what it was?

"Relax, child," the voice cut through the fog in her brain. "We know you're alive. Healer is trying to help you."

She mentally nodded, not sure, if she actually was physically nodding or not. She recognized the voice; it was that guy, Controller. She did not really trust him but, at the moment, had little choice in the matter. After all, who else was there?

Sluggishly, her body began to obey her commands. Her eyes opened and the pounding in her ears was at a dull roar. Her skin tingled from where the robed man's powers had touched her wounds. She groaned as she tried to sit up but was gently but firmly held in place by the robed man.

"I gotta ..." she protested.

"Sit still," he insisted.

She closed her eyes tight and opened them again to force her sight to focus. "Damn."

The robed man grunted in agreement and said, in a gentlemanly Southern drawl, "I would say, my dear child, that this is a grave error on all sides."

He dropped his body over hers as Archangel flew over, maneuvering himself into a better attack position against Tracker. The robed man held her body tight to his as Archangel passed. He sat back up and continued to exam her wounds with a nonchalant air.

"It would seem, my dear," he continued his conversation as if nothing had happened and that people weren't getting killed around them. "That all sides want to either help you or kill you. Unfortunately, no one knows who's on which side."

"You're the ones who kidnapped me, remember?" she snapped. "So, duh? Which side do you think you're on?"

The robed man tilted his head, although Kitku could not see his face; she got the impression that he was amused. "Indeed, child, that is true. Let us sit you up."

He positioned his arm behind her back and eased her into a sitting position. "Better?"

"Much," she grimaced; her head swam with a rush of blood to her brain. "Ick."