A Cycle That Never Ends 2

Bruce Forger

Loving Husband And Father

January 2, 1933- October 31, 2016

"Time is always on our side, even if we don't think it is."

Tara Forger

Loving Wife And Mother

December 25, 1935-August 25, 2020

"The journey only ends when we say it does."

Watching the setting sun in the distance, I simply observed the grave before me. Even if they were made by myself, they seemed just too ordinary for such amazing people.

All of the sounds around me had become muffled. An endless ringing in my ears just never seemed to cease, which should be impossible based on my immunity to Shellshock.

I simply stand here now, almost waiting for her to pop out of the casket. Thinking on that a bit more, I would probably have to put down whatever came out of that casket if it did, or I would have if I didn't have the body disintegrated.

While I never read Marvel comics too much. I have been exposed to enough pop culture media, in terms of science-fiction, never to allow any DNA to remain. So it was an empty casket, but I could almost see her there, smiling.

I won't say it was special when grieving. Even with all of the power I have, I shed tears and cried. Even now, with the endless silence, the urge still remains just to cry.

I was never a very emotional person. At least, I didn't think I was until this new life that was or is.

The air around me begins to grow cold, but also accepting in a way, and knowing who is behind me, all that could be said was one word.

"Why?" I asked.

The hooded figure behind me says nothing, and for a couple of minutes, we just stand there as the sun sets in the distance.

" You know the answer to that question." The figure says as I sigh in annoyed exasperation. These cosmic abstracts are always the same with their riddles.

" And it seems you know the meaning of a rhetorical question, then. Why are you here , Death? Her soul already moved on; I made sure of it." Death then walked beside me and stood before the grave.

" Would you believe to say I was worried? You and I know of your great strength. You lie outside my grasp and the grasp of the wider Multiverse. Many have tried to do the same thing, but they all failed."

"Get to the point, Death." The skeletal woman notices the lack of care.

" I am speaking plainly, Jason. Many with your power would simply resurrect them as soon as they died, but you do not. Do you do it out of respect for me or for them?" I almost scoff at the question.

" My parents were old, Death. Some people just want to live and die, and those who want to die want to die together. I would be spitting upon the very memory and the love they gave me by denying them one request. " Death says nothing but swipes her hand across the grave.

" Your mother was very interesting. It's one of the few times souls have made me actually go faster to get them to the afterlife. in her words, she wanted to go to the afterlife, but she didn't want to wait in the average Disney World line. It's one of the few times I was actually somewhat shocked." Even after everything that's happened, I can't help but chuckle a bit as I know that's exactly what she would do.

" Your travels have not gone unnoticed. Those from beyond still exist, you know?" oh yes, those freaks of nature, those were a pain to get around.

" I won't be arrogant to say let them come, as I would not wish to hold the fate of this universe in my hands. I'm not a hero, after all. And I would die before getting into some spandex clothing." Death just turns around and walks away, but before leaving she says.

" You may not hold me in higher regard, but I do protect the souls that are mine. Rest assured, they shall be given their reward, and Jason, your parents are proud of you." Before I could turn around and say something, she was already gone, and the sunset was on the horizon.

Grumbling to myself about how Death was trying to copy Batman, I felt two presences approach me, and sensing their psionic power, I looked back and saw Jean Grey and Emma Frost.

Surprisingly enough, the two say nothing and just look at the grave, with Jean showing some semblance of sympathy while Emma holds a very stoic expression.

"Before you say anything, I would like to apologize." The statement does cause Emma Frost's brow to rise in a very suspicious manner.

" It was rude to try to force you away and teleport away from my home." Jean then shakes her head and walks forward.

" We understand you want to be there in her last moments. It's very commendable, but where is her body?" Jean asks.

" Gone and reduced to nothingness. I assume you have both dealt with the annoyances that are clones, and I would rather not have to face such idiocy. Nothing remains of their DNA either of them. And before you both say otherwise, they were the ones that asked me to do this." Emma shrugs in an accepting manner while Jean observes the two graves.

As the moon's light shines down on the two lone graves, I begin to ask my questions: "So, other than the advertised purposes for Krakoa, why was the island created? Doesn't it seem a bit dangerous to pronounce your location so much after everything that's happened?"

Emma frowns as if recalling a bad memory and says, "While I am not allowed to say much, the island was made more public to send a message that mutant-kind will not stomach being hidden in the shadows and rejected by the wider world."

" And if the world simply refuses?" An instant answer from Emma meets the question.

" It won't. We'll make sure of it. It's not just the X-Men or the Brotherhood. It is all mutants. This isn't just a group of mutants trying to survive in a wide world. No, we have created a nation, a true sovereign power." Jean nods in reluctant agreement as I sigh mentally.

This whole island of there just sounds like an Icarus waiting to fly too close to the sun. They don't remember everything that's happened.

I remember every single time the universe has been reset. Thankfully, I never truly lost my parents until now, but I know that the status quo exists. I see the strings all around the world.

The age of Apocalypse, the age of Ultron, an age where the Trapster became ruler of the world, and God King Doom. With all of the powers I've gained over the years, I could just snap all of the problems away, but before I could continue this line of thought, I answered.

" We shall see about that, Frost." The lack of a Ms or Mrs does cause Emma to narrow her eyes at me, but I ignore her. Jean then leads us to their Blackbird Jet, and it takes off towards NYC, where the closest Krakoa portal was.

As I sat down on the left side with the other two on the right side, Emma would go to her phone and study what I assumed to be various messages from the silent council. Jean would continue to stare at me as I watched the scenery go by.

"If you have things you want to ask, then just ask. No need to stare a hole in my head." Jean caught staring as I grinned at her chuckles and asked her questions.

" So, what exactly is your power?" Jean asks while taking her mask off. It's still confused me why she wears a butterfly mask, but I'm not one to comment on fashion.

" Am I required to answer this question?" The lack of an answer was answer enough.

I know that you can force me to say. Still, it'll be more based on social pressure and the presence of mutants like Exodus, as well as Apocalypse, and even sinister would probably spend time combing over each and every document from each and every mutant.

That and with pre-cogs poking about in the form of destiny and a few of their telepaths, privacy would almost be nonexistent. Well, unless you're me, that was as over I've built up evolutions to nearly every possible problem.

I was ten years old when I woke my power to evolve, and I was 17 when my secondary mutation was activated. The first time was when I was attacked by a mob when my parent's status as mutants was revealed.

I took all of the stabs, the burns, and the smashes to my head, to my arms, to my legs. I do admit that I had never felt more pain in that moment, even after two lives.

The other time was when the Scarlet Witch decided to create her own world after her kids, who were made out of the soul of a devil, died, and her husband was made inoperable.

The less said, how I view her, the better.

The trip doesn't take too long as we fly in silence with the ship on autopilot. After only around 15 minutes, we are already landing in a private hangar outside of New York City, which I assume is either owned by Emma Frost or the Hellfire Club.

After departing the jet, a limo was already waiting for us, and after entering I looked into the driver seat and saw no one driving, so it must be self-driving. With a snap of her finger, the limo was already exiting the private hangar and out onto the streets of New York.

All of the sites were there, not including the Baxter building and Avengers Tower. It was right when we made it to the portal near Central Park that things got interesting.

" So, what will be my role on this Island?" The question was met with a decent pause as Jean replied, "That will be up to you. We're not trying to be too restrictive here. We're trying to give all who are on the island a chance to decide for themselves."

" What my red-haired acquaintance is saying is that you will find your own way. Krakoa has a way of bringing out a mutant's true potential." Well, that is definitely true in its own way.

As the limo gets to a stop, all of us exit, but after doing so, we noticed the crowd of people protesting outside of the teleportation gate to the island.

Upon noticing us, one of the people yells out, " Look more freaks! Stealing kids now, huh? I always knew you wastes of space was no good! Isn't that right?!"

The crowd agrees with the man while gearing at us, but at this point, I just couldn't care less. Emma stared at me, I assume trying to gauge a reaction.

But at this point, it's kind of like trying to get mad at puppets who can't see the strings. Because, at every moment, I knew the hatred was being fueled by something, whether it was through that bacteria, sublime the shadow, king, or onslaught.

The sheep will always exist. Even if I were to snap it all away, it would exist somewhere else. So, at this point, it's like listening to mice skittering around.

I walk up to the portal as Jean uses her telekinesis to move the people trying to get in our way. As they walk up next to me, Emma offers me her hand, and I simply beckon them to enter.

A slight smirk makes its way to her face, and we enter the portal. And as we do so, the people that are around the portal continue to skitter around.