33 Chapter 33: The Other Half, The Old Lineage….

"It's time you understood just how connected you are….. last son of the Ororo Bloodline."

The voice reverberated through the clouded and oceanic plains as if it was bass boosted by the strongest amp in existence. The clouds ruffled and spun like tornado winds. The ocean below spewed tsunami-like waves as bright lights twinkled below the surface.

Speaking of connection. As soon as the graceful feminine voice finished speaking, he couldn't help but notice a sense of that very thing. Connection, with everything. He could feel the waves and their movements on his skin like hands. The spin and roil of the clouds…. So predictable, so communicative. He could even feel the splash of the waves, as if they were simply an extension of himself.

It reminded him of entering the Storm-State, only there was more to it now. It was almost too much. Overwhelming.

"What is this….?"

"This is my domain, child." The feminine voice replied calmly—

"OUUUAGGGHHHHH!!!!!" Something hideous roared in the distance. A sound beyond human comprehension that fell on Bronte's ears as something more akin to natural disaster. Like the screaming winds of a tornado if they rumbled from the throat of an animal as large as a mountain.

In the distance, a shape pushed through the clouds in tandem with the malicious roars. But the clouds never split, simply molding around the shape of what had to be an arm as large as a skyscraper. It remained hidden beneath even as the monstrous continued to stretch into their domain. The clouds held on, thunderous and malleable like a magical sheet of fog.

"As you can see, there are others that wish to reach this domain, child."

"Who….?" Speaking was oddly difficult. Thoughts were hard to hold onto intricately when he continually felt the ebb and flow of entire oceans and skies.

"Tanaraq. Banished to the realm of Great Beasts like all his other counter parts. He was once a Elder godly figure nearly as old as myself. Now not much more than a sadistic monster looking for hosts in the human realm. He wishes to find who willingly attempted to ingest his Curse of the Elder Gods. He wishes to find you…." The voice explained, speaking of gods and monsters so casually it was almost comical.

Bronte suddenly remembered it all. In his rage, lighting the Canadian wilderness ablaze, ripping apart the Wendigo with Daken, feeling it's blood sizzle against his skin. The last memory he had before ending up where he floated now was ripping out its throat. It's blood tasted like cold rotten meat of unknown origin.

He shivered despite not feeling the cold. Not in the classical sense at least.

Now that left him where he currently was. In a new dimension— realm, speaking to a figure that felt above Humans and Mutants alike. Speaking of their connection and his actions. Speaking of his bloodline.

"You want to know who I am, do you not?" The voice provided, seeming to understand his struggle.

Bronte nodded before flinching as the massive arm of Tanaraq pushed through the clouds again.

"I am Oshtur, Gray Goddess of Balance and Order. But your ancestors knew me as, Ma'at." As the voice introduced herself, a face shaped out of the many clouds. Somehow beautiful and elegant despite the lack of human skin or classical beauty. The winds shaped and held form, giving way to a soft rounded jaw. High cheekbones accented by steady bolts of lightning tracing through the clouds. Slim brows of starlight. Eyes like twin stars.

"And I have been watching you, Bronte Connors, for a long time."

"Why?"

"It is what I've always done. Ever since I first set eyes on your Ancestors after returning to earth. Followers of my sister, Gaea. She blessed them when others aimed to curse. She gave them power, harnessed their magical potential. And generation after generation, that plant she seeded, grew. Now, here we are. With you."

Brontë was still processing. Oshtur continued.

"Your power is growing faster than either your mother or father could've ever guessed. Quite frankly I didn't think to speak to you through anything other than dreams for another decade. You seemed to have other plans." Oshtur explained as a smile shaped in her windy face.

"Mother and father…. You know them?"

Oshtur shook her head, "Have you already forgotten? I'm a god. And I've watched your family since their inception. I know everything about you. And your parents. Symbols of war and destruction. Order and Chaos. They knew a child born from them both could become something otherworldly. Without guidance— without order, that fact would become even more true. Which is why I'm here, as I have been for all those before you, Bronte."

As Oshtur spoke, the clouds around her face fell down beside him like a living fog. They hovered around him, forming into the shapes of people so much so that they began to look like actual people.

After a few seconds, hundreds of women stood around him, watching— judging. They were battle hardened to the point of steel. Their ebony skin held a sheen that even reflected shadows. They were tall, looking down at Bronte from everywhere. Hard muscle and bone hid beneath cultural garb from a time before cars or the modern weapon. They held oddly shaped swords, beautiful shields larger than themselves and even animal hides marked all over. Others wore dresses and jewels brighter than the stars that accented an ethereal inhuman beauty.

He was looking at generations. Changes through century after century. Warrior clans, priestesses, healers, mystics, princesses. All so different, but one thing remained. Hair as white as the clouds. Sometimes nappy and curled into booming Afros. Other times straight and wispy as the winds. Their blueish white eyes looked exactly like Bronte's.

Sometimes he failed to see his relation to Wolverine aside from the claws and fangs. He was so different from his siblings.

But this. This was undeniable.

"You see Bronte, this is bigger than you. But you and your mother are all that remain of the Wind Riders. Gaea blessed your blood, but I advanced it beyond that of earths capabilities…"

The clouds faded, showing that they hovered in space.

"Why…? Why us. Why me?"

"The world and its many dimensions beyond are hounded by chaos. Order is a necessary balance. Justice is the birthright of all living things no matter what anyone else has told you. You know of these things. You seek justice with your warrior siblings, do you not?"

"Mhm.."

Oshtur nodded, "I call to you because you call to me. And one day, you may be needed to establish order where it has fallen asunder in the face of chaos. A day when all may be lost. When your earths mightiest heroes may never return. What then. Justice must remain. But that is only your choice. Until then, I will watch over you— teach in in the ways that I can in hopes that you are ready when need be. Ominous magic looms at all corners. Romulus may be the least of your worries, he may be the worst."

Bronte popped his claws on reflex in response to the name and growled.

Oshtur looked saddened. "Another man of war. He has left you and your family so angry, hasn't he? It hurts your mother to know you bear the misfortunes of your father. But she knows you're strong."

"My mother….."

A bolt of lightning burst from a star in the distance.

"Ororo Munroe of the storms. The strongest of the Wind Riders. She is far from here, a queen of lands at war that you've never seen. And even still, she hasn't stopped looking for you. She is a good woman, she never kept her eyes from you, child. Even now in this realm, she watches. If only she'd awaken." Oshtur said.

It was then that one of the many Wind Riders suddenly gained animation. She was shorter than the others at six foot. Her muscles were aided by agile movements even in her confused state. She was one of the few that wore the garb of royalty instead of warrior uniform. A black dress wrapped around her like a cutout of the Milky Way. A silvery purple crown sat atop her head, sparkling against the winds as if absorbing the small impacts.

She looked like him. They had the same medium sized nose and full lips with deep curves. She even had her hair in braids like his own. She was beautiful.

She pushed through the crowd of their ancestors in a rush. Once she laid eyes on him, she slowed. Looking him over a thousand times as he did the same.

Suddenly a smile made its way to her face. Subtle, easily missed. Much like Oshtur in that regard. Before he knew it, she was standing directly across from him.

She reached out and grabbed his fist, placing a hand over his claws. "My son…. You truly have grown. I know you don't know me. But I've watched you forever. Aneka always told me stories about you. I watched you grow through her, and I'm so sorry it's come to this for you. But I've prepared for this day. I knew once your Mutant abilities awakened, there'd be no use hiding you anymore. I tried to look for you after hearing word of your entry into Xavier's Institute, but you disappeared. You've been running for a long time. You shouldn't have to. So please, come home, Bronte. Bring your family, to your new home."

Bronte was still processing gods and beast realms, "W-What are you talking about? You know my mom—"

Ororo's shape wavered like a television screen before a blackout. "I'm talking about you Bronte. I'm the Queen of Wakanda, and as my son, you are one of two Princes. You are meant to be here, with me. Let's face whatever follows you together, and let's burn it to the ground."

Suddenly she was turning around, addressing someone behind her named "T'challa". She was angered by his interruption. Fighting to remain inside the realm. And then she was gone. Fizzled out of existence like smoke in a forest after a blast of lightning….

Bronte suddenly realized he wasn't breathing.

Oshtur spoke.

"The choice is yours, Bronte Connors of the Wind Riders. Your mother longs for her son. The question is, do you wish to find her? Do you wish for more than what you face? Do you wish for opportunity? Whatever your choice, much awaits you. Even now, you change in front of my very eyes…"

Out of nowhere a bolt of lightning fell from the sky and Bronte was gone from the realm beyond earth in a flash.