Arc 6 - Ch 11: A Wedding Or A Funeral

Chapter 78

Arc 6 - Ch 11: A Wedding Or A Funeral

Date: Saturday, June 25, 2011.

Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, New York

Tyson stood shocked for a moment. Marriage? It was an unexpected proposition. Yet, as he looked into Jubilee's expectant face, he was caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Her suggestion was sudden, of course, but it was her way of embracing life, of finding joy even in the face of darkness. The silence was brief, filled with the distant hum of the jet's engines winding down. Her smile faltered as she watched the play of emotions across Tyson's face. Before she could backtrack, Tyson's expression softened.

"Jubes," Tyson began, lowering to one knee before her, his mismatched eyes never leaving hers.

He crafted a shimmering diamond ring that appeared to materialize in his hand. The gem sparkled brilliantly, catching the light in a way that no earthly diamond could.

"I love you," he continued, "I'd be honored if you'd marry me."

Jubilee's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and joy dancing across her features. She looked from Tyson's face to the ring and back again, her lips parting in a soft gasp.

"I... yes."

"Yes!"

She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off balance. Tyson wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close as he rose to his feet, lifting her off the ground. They spun in a small circle, she laughed and cried at the same time.

As Tyson set Jubilee back on her feet, he took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Jubilee held up her hand, admiring the way the light played off the facets of the diamond.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, then looked up at Tyson with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But you know, a girl might prefer something a little more... tangible. Unless you secretly stopped at a jewelry shop wearing that Iron Man suit."

Tyson chuckled, pulling her close again. "Don't worry, I'll get you a real one. This is just a placeholder."

Jubilee's smile softened. "I was just teasing. This is perfect. You're perfect."

For a moment, all their worries and fears melted away. There was no impending doom, no ticking clock. There was only this moment, however brief it might be.

"Alright, everyone," she announced, her voice carrying across the hangar. "Change of plans. We're going to throw the most epic wedding this school has ever seen."

Jubilee took a deep breath, squared her slender shoulders, and lifted her chin. This was a surreal experience. She had always imagined her future, her dreams and aspirations, but never had she thought she would be planning a wedding so soon. She sought out her friends, unable to help but feel a sense of bittersweet excitement.

Jean was first, the telepath's usually calm and collected demeanor cracking under the weight of her emotions. Jubilee pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of Jean's tears against her shoulder. "I want you to be my maid of honor," Jubilee whispered, her voice trembling with joy. "Share a memory at the reception, something that made you laugh. I want our wedding to be filled with joy and laughter."

Jean nodded, her eyes glistening with happy tears. "Of course," she said.

Jubilee radiated a joy that cut through the gloom and uncertainty that had settled over the group. Her eyes shone with hope and love as she turned to Storm, grasping the weather witch's hands in her own.

"Professor Ororo, would you officiate my wedding?" Jubilee asked, practically bouncing on her toes in excitement.

Ororo glanced at Tyson, her brow furrowing slightly. Undoubtedly she cared for Jubilee deeply, but she wasn't sure how she felt about the illusionist. Yet looking into Jubilee's vibrant, pleading eyes, she couldn't refuse. This wedding represented more than just the union of two people; it was a spark of life in the face of darkness.

Slowly, Storm nodded, a smile breaking across her elegant features. "Nothing would make me happier, child," she said warmly. Jubilee let out a squeal of delight, throwing her arms around the weather witch.

Then Jubilee pulled back, practically bouncing on her toes again as she began peppering Ororo with questions about the ceremony. Storm listened indulgently, her smile never fading.

As Jubilee busied herself with planning, Tyson slipped away. He found an empty room and pulled out his cell phone with a desperate idea in mind. He had exhausted every target, and nearly every potential solution to prevent Jubilee's death. But one name lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade away.

Agatha Harkness.

Tyson opened his phone and quickly performed a Google search. It was his only option, well aware that using Cerebro was out of the question. To his surprise, the search revealed a woman named Agatha Harkness lived in Massachusetts, working as a private governess and teacher.

Could it truly be that simple?

The thought of reaching out to her felt like a gamble. Tyson went over what he knew of her thanks to his meta-knowledge. After the events of Endgame, Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, had spiraled into grief and despair. The loss of Vision, whom she had grown to love, had left her broken with her powers unhinged and wild. In a desperate attempt to cling to the fragments of the life she could have had, Wanda inadvertently twisted reality, capturing the unsuspecting town of Westview in a bubble of reality under her control.

Agatha was drawn by the potent magic that Wanda wielded. She infiltrated the reality bubble and confronted the Scarlet Witch. To the casual observer, Agatha appeared to be the antagonist seeking to steal Wanda's power. But the truth was more complex. Wanda, in her anguish, had subjugated the townspeople. Agatha had attempted to intervene, to end the chaos that Wanda had unleashed. Did this make Wanda the villain of her story, consumed by her grief and pain? Was Agatha the unsung hero, misunderstood and vilified for her actions? The lines between right and wrong were blurred, painted in shades of gray that defied easy categorization.

Tyson contemplated the potential risks and rewards of contacting Agatha. He was unsure if this was the right choice, but he had no other options.

He dialed the number listed, listening intently as the line rang.

"Hello?" answered a familiar voice.

"Good evening, is this Agatha Harkness?" Tyson asked, his voice tight and strained with desperation.

"Yes, who is this?" came the wary reply.

He took a moment to steady his nerves before responding. "My name is Tyson. I'm looking to hire your services."

"Alright, Mr. Tyson," said Agatha briskly, "How old is your child, and in what area of study do you believe they need help?"

Tyson hesitated, knowing his response would sound strange. "I'm not inquiring about your lessons for a child. I'm looking to hire your services for myself."

He heard Agatha sigh in exasperation. "Is this a prank call? If not, those aren't the kinds of services I provide. A governess is a tutor, a teacher, not an escort." she said, clearly having fielded calls of that nature before.

Tyson squinted in confusion for a brief moment before understanding her meaning. He rolled his eyes in frustration. "That's not what I meant, Ms. Harkness. I'm looking for an instructor to teach me a subject that's a little more esoteric..."

He let his voice trail off, hoping she would understand his implied meaning. His heart pounded as he awaited her response, knowing this was likely his final chance to save his friend. Tyson waited with bated breath as silence descended on the phone line. He could practically hear the seconds ticking by as Agatha Harkness contemplated his request, the weight of her judgment hanging over him.

When she finally spoke, her voice was curious, "How did you get this number?"

"Google," Tyson answered, hoping that using the internet to find her would not undermine his credibility in her eyes.

Agatha let out a small huff, a hint of amusement coloring her tone. "I'm afraid I only work with children, Tyson. My teaching is focused on nurturing young minds, guiding them in the ways of magic."

Tyson closed his eyes as frustration welled up inside him, his grip on the phone tightening reflexively. "I'm technically not an adult yet. I won't be turning eighteen for a few more months. Please. I need to learn magic. I'll pay any price, do whatever it takes." He injected a note of desperation into the last sentence, hoping she could sense the importance of this to him.

Silence descended once more. Tyson strained to hear any sounds from Agatha's end of the call. He thought he detected the soft rustle of clothing as if she had gotten up from her seat to pace in consideration. Seconds passed before she finally spoke again. "The path you seek is dangerous," she said, her voice low and serious. "Magic is not a toy to be played with, nor a quick solution to life's problems. It requires dedication, sacrifice, and a willingness to face the consequences of your actions."

Tyson felt a flicker of anger at her perceived judgment of him. He bit back a harsh retort, letting a quiet intensity fill his words. "I've faced consequences before. I've fought powerful enemies, even demons, and taken lives, all in the name of survival."

"Very well, Tyson. I will agree to teach you, but my services won't come cheap. Where are you located?"

"New York City," Tyson answered promptly, relief flooding through him.

"You'll be paying my relocation fee as well. 50 thousand dollars upfront," Agatha stated matter-of-factly.

Tyson quickly agreed, "Of course. And I can arrange housing if needed."

After a thoughtful pause, Agatha named her terms. "And a 50 thousand dollar a month retainer fee. So long as you're my student."

"Agreed," Tyson said without hesitation. He provided Felicia's contact information for handling payment and housing details, knowing Agatha would find the arrangements satisfactory.

Tyson walked toward the main entrance of the institute. The weight of Jubilee's impending death was a constant pressure on his chest. As he passed by the common area, Jubilee called out. "Tyson, are you trying to sneak away again?"

Tyson paused, turning to face her. Her eyes, usually so full of light and mischief, now held a shadow of the fate that awaited her. "I am," he admitted, "but not to escape and absorb someone. I'm working on something."

Jubilee regarded him for a moment. "If you're working on something, it better be your vows," she teased, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness beneath her words.

"Hopefully better," he replied.

"Fine," she said, "but don't take too long. And if you run off to try to absorb someone else, I'm won't forgive you. I'll die angry, and probably rise as a vengeful spirit. A vengeful spirit… vampire."

"I won't," he promised, "With a final glance at Jubilee, he turned and headed toward a secluded section of the institute grounds.

The grounds around the Xavier Institute were expansive, with a few acres of well-manicured lawns, gardens, and wooded areas that provided a serene backdrop. As Tyson walked, he took in the tranquility of the surroundings, the chirping of crickets, and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. He found an out-of-sight area, tucked away behind a copse of trees. It was a peaceful spot that Tyson idly noted would serve perfectly as a secret rendezvous point for mutant teens. Though not secretive enough to avoid the notice of Professor Xavier.

Once he was sure there wasn't anyone nearby, Tyson stopped and took a deep breath. He called out into the empty air, his voice echoing slightly in the dark. "Amora. You said you would be watching… I respectfully request to speak with you."

As Tyson finished speaking, nothing happened. The world around him remained unchanged, the quiet serenity of the institute grounds undisturbed. He waited for a beat, his heart pounding in his chest, the anticipation building with each passing second.

Just when disappointment began to set in, the air in front of him shimmered and rippled. A portal appeared, its edges flickering with an otherworldly light. Inside the portal was a lavishly appointed room, its walls adorned with arcane scribbles that pulsed with a soft, eldritch glow. Reclining on a plush pillow bed, draped in sumptuous fabrics was Amora.

The Enchantress gestured with a 'come hither' motion, inviting Tyson through the portal.

He stepped forward, crossing the threshold, and the institute grounds gave way to Amora's opulent chamber. The portal closed behind him with a soft pop, leaving him in the presence of the powerful Asgardian sorceress.

Amora lounged on her bed. "You have come to bargain, I presume," she said.

"I have," he confirmed, his voice betraying none of the apprehension he felt.

The Enchantress considered him for a long, drawn-out moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And why should I aid you?" she asked, her tone laced with a regal haughtiness. "What makes you worthy of my divine essence? I mandated you gain strength. To seek out someone powerful and absorb them. Have you done so without me becoming aware? Because I saw your failure. You neither killed nor defeated the fiery psychic in a battle of wills, binding her to you."

Tyson frowned. That wasn't his intention in engaging Jean. He brushed off the Enchantress's words and met Amora's stare with a steady resolve, his jaw set in a firm line.

"I have not absorbed anyone's power," Tyson admitted, "On such short notice, I could not find a suitable target who was both accessible and possessed abilities that would be worthy of your divine essence. However, I have secured an instructor to teach me the ways of magic."

Amora arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her expression one of skeptical amusement. "A mere mortal dabbling in the mystic arts?" she scoffed. "And you believe this will make you stronger?"

"There are many paths to power. You, yourself are proof of this" he said, "While absorbing the abilities of others is one way, mastering magic is another. With a skilled instructor to guide me, I can unlock the potential within myself and grow stronger in ways beyond physical abilities."

Amora regarded him, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns embroidered on the silken sheets beneath her. "And who is this instructor you speak of?" she asked.

"Agatha Harkness," Tyson replied without hesitation. "A witch who has lived for over three hundred years. She has agreed to take me on as her student. I know of few on Earth who would be a better tutor, save yourself and perhaps the Sorcerer Supreme." Tyson pressed on with his case. "With Agatha's guidance, I can learn magic. While I'm sure, Earthly magic pales compared to Asgardian magic, I hoped that taking steps toward such power would be worthy of your divine essence."

For a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was the soft hum of the arcane runes etched into the walls. Finally, she spoke. "Very well, Tyson. I deem that you have met the requirements of taking the steps necessary to become stronger."

Relief flooded Tyson's veins, a rush of hope that threatened to overwhelm him. But he remained outwardly composed, his expression carefully neutral as he approached Amora's seated form. He reached out, his fingers closing around the cool glass of the vial she held toward him. Tyson was momentarily taken aback when he realized the vial was empty.

Amora fixed him with a piercing gaze making him tense. "However," she said, her voice carrying disappointment, "I question your audacity. I specifically asked you to bind a mistress and explained the difference between a mistress and a wife. Now, I thought you a step above the rest of the men here, more cunning and somewhat intelligent. Yet, you act against my words, disappointing me by intending to marry the one you set out to save. While not a direct violation of my request, I feel… spurned."

Tyson's mind raced. He was close to attaining her blood and didn't want to anger the Enchantress. He needed a way to smooth things over. Thinking quickly, he said, "Marriages on Earth specifically state 'Till death do us part.' If Jubilee dies and becomes a vampire, the wedding is nullified."

Amora countered, "Is not the purpose of my blood to prevent her death, and remove the curse of vampirism? If your ritual is successful and she survives, she won't die and become a vampire, she'll be a living human. What then?"

She was right.

Tyson quickly answered, "We'll play it off like a heat of the moment thing. Weddings require paperwork, verification by the local government, and such. We won't do it..." He paused, his mind working furiously. "And I'll get a temporary ring," he blurted out. "It's our custom to gift diamond rings to your betrothed because diamonds are forever. I won't symbolically give a diamond."

Amora leaned back, seeming to mull over his words. Tyson held his breath as she considered his explanation, acutely aware of how much hinged on this moment.

Finally, Amora inclined her head. "Very well. Symbolism is far more important to me than paperwork," she said, her voice carrying a note of amusement. "I accept your terms." She held out her hand, palm up, towards Tyson.

She held her palm to him, a clear expectation in her eyes. Tyson hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. "May I?" he asked uncertainly.

Amora beckoned him closer. With a deep breath, Tyson released his adamantium talons from his fingertip. He gently dragged the talon across Amora's palm, a thin line of crimson welling up in its wake.

Tyson held the vial steady as Amora tipped her hand, allowing her blood to flow into the container. As the vial filled to the brim, she muttered an incantation, her voice low and melodic. Before Tyson's eyes, the wound on her palm began to close, the skin knitting together by the magic.

She fixed him with a stern gaze. "Use it wisely, mortal. My blood is not to be trifled with." she warned."

Tyson nodded solemnly, carefully securing the vial. "I will. You have my word," he promised, his voice filled with gratitude and reverence. "Thank you, Amora. I won't forget this."

"See that you don't," she replied.

"Twice now, I have granted you a boon," Amora said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "And neither time have I accepted true payment." Tyson swallowed hard, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. She leaned forward. "Are you familiar with the Rule of Three?" she asked.

When Tyson shook his head in the negative, Amora continued, "Magic is not a force to be trifled with. It is a fundamental law of the universe, a principle that governs the intricate web of interconnectedness that binds all things together." She raised a hand, three fingers extended. "The rule of three is a manifestation of this interconnectedness, a reminder that every action we take, every spell we cast, sends ripples through the fabric of reality, touching every point in the vast tapestry of existence." Amora's voice took on a hypnotic quality, her words painting vivid images in Tyson's mind. "Imagine a still pond, its surface smooth and mirror-like. Throwing a stone into that pond creates ripples that expand outward, touching every inch of the water's surface. Magic works similarly with each spell, each boon granted or favor asked, creating ripples that reverberate through the chains of interconnectedness, shaping destinies and altering the universe's balance."

She leaned forward, her face mere inches from Tyson's, her eyes boring into his soul. "You cannot escape the consequences of your actions, Tyson. No spells, no illusions, can shield you from the repercussions of the ripples you create. Every choice you make, every path you walk, will impact the whole, setting in motion a cascade of events that will shape your life and the lives of those around you."

Amora reminded, "I have granted you two boons, Tyson. First, I boosted your power on the rainbow bridge. Now, I grant you my blood, the blood of a goddess, in your own words. Something rare on Earth, especially since the destruction of the Bifrost. Two acts of kindness, two gifts freely given, two acts of magic. But the universe demands balance, and the scales are tipping in my favor."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her breath hot against Tyson's skin. "If you seek a third boon from me, know the price will be steep. The universe will demand its due. I will demand my due. And the cost may be more than you care."

Tyson considered the implications of Amora's words. He had no idea what Amora's price was, however, it sounded steep. But he knew that the boons Amora had granted him were worthwhile. With the power boost, he'd saved Thor, allowing Odin to remain in the Odinsleep, recovering his strength. And with the second boon, he'd save Jubilee's life.

"I understand," he said, "And I'm grateful for your help, Amora. I recognize the value of your boons, and I will not invoke a third frivolously. Should there be a boon I can provide for you in return, please let me know."

"We shall see, Tyson. We shall see," she said, seemingly satisfied. With a wave of her hand, the air behind Tyson shimmered and rippled, a portal opening back to the Xavier Institute grounds. "Now go," she said, her tone dismissive. "You have what you came for."

Tyson bowed his head in respect before turning towards the portal. As he stepped through, he felt the rush of magic wash over him, transporting him back to the quiet, moonlit grounds of the institute. The portal closed behind him with a soft pop, leaving him alone in the night air.

He stood there, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The vial of Amora's blood felt warm in his hand, a constant reminder of the power he now possessed and the responsibility that came with it. Tyson couldn't shake the feeling that he had just made a deal with the devil herself. But he pushed aside his doubts, his fears.

He had the blood, the key to saving Jubilee's life.

— Rogue Replacement —

As Tyson stepped through the doors, he was greeted by a buzz of excitement, a palpable sense of joy that hung in the air like a celebratory mist. He'd been given a suit. Logan hadn't said where he'd gotten it, but Tyson guessed he'd stolen it from one of the other professors. One of beastly proportions, since it fit Tyson rather well. He entered the main hall, which had been transformed into a beautiful wedding venue. He wasn't sure how it happened, but with a mansion full of mutants, someone had to be able to grow flowers on demand. Everyone was gathered, their faces beaming with happiness. At the front of the room stood Storm as Officiant stood in the center with her, and Jean off to the side as the maid-of-honor. On the opposite side stood Logan as Tyson's best man.

The soft murmur of the gathered crowd faded into the background as he focused on each step, each breath. Logan stood at the front watching his friend approach. As Tyson reached the end of the aisle, he turned to face the entrance. The music swelled a beautiful melody that filled the room with anticipation.

And then, like a vision, Jubilee appeared. She was radiant. Her white dress was more akin to a cocktail than a wedding dress but fit her beautifully. Her dark hair lacked its usual gelled-up style; straightened, but still asymmetrically parted. But it was her smile that truly took Tyson's breath away. It was bright, joyous, and filled with love.

Jubilee began her walk down the aisle, her eyes locked on Tyson. Each step brought her closer to him. The assembled guests turned to watch her, their faces mirroring the happiness that radiated from the bride.

Nearing the front of the room, Jubilee's gaze swept over the crowd. Her eyes glistened with happy tears as she took in the sight of their friends gathered to celebrate.

Her gaze returned to Tyson, and the rest of the world faded. It was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of a new chapter in their lives. As she reached his side, he extended his gloved hand to her. She took it, her fingers intertwining with his. They turned to face Storm, ready to begin the ceremony. The room fell silent save for the occasional sniffle from an emotional guest.

Storm began the ceremony. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Tyson was in a haze throughout the ceremony, still hardly believing that he was getting married… and then it was his turn to say his vows. He faced Jubilee. As he looked into her eyes, he found the words to express the depth of his feelings.

"Jubilation," he began, "You were the first person to welcome me to the institute. From the moment I arrived, you made me feel like I belonged. You showed me around, introduced me to everyone, and made sure I had everything I needed." Tyson paused and searched the crowd, finding Professor Xavier, he quipped, "Thanks for the introduction, Professor."

The crowd laughed and Tyson waited for them to calm down before turning back to Jubilee to continue. "You never feared or judged, even though you knew how dangerous I could be."

"You have always been there for me," he continued, his voice growing stronger. "When I felt like I was thrust into this new world, you were the one who helped me find my way."

"And I want you to know that I will always be there for you, just as you have been there for me. I will do everything in my power to support and love you. That's what you did for me. That's what love is all about."

Logan tapped Tyson's shoulder, drawing his attention away for a moment. The gruff mutant held out a small, glittering object. It was a ring, but not just any ring. It was made of pure ice, sparkling and shimmering in the light.

Tyson took the ring carefully, marveling at its delicate beauty. It was cool to the touch, yet it didn't melt in his gloved hand. He glanced out into the crowd and his gaze landed on Bobby Drake. The young mutant known as Iceman gave him a thumbs up.

Turning back to Jubilee, he held up the icy ring, watching as Jubilee's eyes lit up with wonder. Gently, he took her hand in his. With utmost care, he slid the ring onto her finger.

The ice ring sparkled on Jubilee's hand, catching the light. Tyson couldn't help but smile at the symbolism.

A ring that was beautiful yet fleeting. Bobby promised it should last a little over two months before melting.

Storm's voice cut through the moment, rich and clear. "You may now kiss the bride."

Tyson looked into Jubilee's eyes. He saw the love there, the trust, and the slight hint of apprehension that mirrored his own. They both knew the risks of his touch.

Slowly, carefully, Tyson leaned in. He cupped Jubilee's face with his gloved hands. She tilted her head up, her eyes fluttering closed as she awaited his kiss.

Their lips met in a chaste, gentle kiss.

Tyson was acutely aware of every millisecond that passed, not wanting to risk absorbing too much of Jubilee's life force. The kiss was brief, but it held love and promise.

As they parted, despite the drain on her life, Tyson saw the flush on Jubilee's cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. She smiled up at him, a mix of joy and understanding in her expression.

The assembled guests erupted into applause, their cheers filling the hall. Tyson and Jubilee turned to face their friends and family, hands clasped tightly together.

The newlyweds made their way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes from their friends.

— Rogue Replacement —

Tyson's gloved hand gently clasped hers. "Hey, Jubes," he said, his voice soft but urgent. "This was nice, but we've got to go."

Jubilee's brow furrowed in confusion. "Go where?"

"Back to the city," Tyson replied, "If we're going to save you... I convinced Amora to let me have her blood."

A flicker of hope danced in Jubilee's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by skepticism. "She just gave it to you?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "Did you sneak out before to absorb someone and you're hiding it?"

"Nope. I used my other superpower this time."

"Which one?" she asked.

"Money."

Jubilee gave him a deadpan look, her eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Who are you? Batman?"

Tyson laughed before explaining, "I hired a magic tutor. Amora accepted it as a step toward me becoming stronger, which was what she wanted."

Jubilee's eyes widened in surprise, and then she hugged him, her thin arms struggling to wrap around his neck. But even as she clung to him, Tyson felt her stagger, her body trembling with the effort of staying upright.

"We're borrowing a car," he declared, scooping her into his arms in a princess carry. He strode towards the garage. They had no time to waste.

As they neared the garage, Jean Grey fell into step beside them. "I'm coming," she stated.

Tyson nodded, grateful for the support. But Jubilee, her face buried in the sleeve of his shirt, shook her head weakly. "No," she mumbled, her voice muffled by Tyson's shirt.

Confusion and hurt flashed across Jean's features. "Why not?"

Jubilee lifted her head, her eyes meeting Jean's with a look of sadness. "Because if I die, I don't know what I'm going to be like when I rise again." She gestured to Tyson, her hand trembling with the effort. "I can feed off him, and he's immune to Vampire bites. Jean, you aren't." Understanding dawned on Jean's face, and she nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Give us a few days to see where we land," Jubilee continued, her voice grew weaker with each word. "Then you can come."

Tyson shifted Jubilee in his arms, holding her close as he met Jean's gaze. "I'll always have room for you. Once things settle, you can join us. Promise."

Jean nodded, stepping back as Tyson gently lowered Jubilee into the backseat of a black luxury car. As the car roared to life, Tyson glanced in the rearview mirror, his eyes locking with Jubilee's. She looked so small, so fragile, lying in the leather seats. He turned his attention back to the road, the car thundering out of the garage and into the darkness.

Tyson's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sped south, heading for the New York Sanctum. In the backseat, Jubilee lay curled up, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. As they crossed into the Bronx, she stirred, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ty," she murmured, her words slurring with exhaustion. "I'm feeling drained. I'm going to go to sleep. Wake me up when we get to the Sanctum, okay?"

Tyson glanced in the rearview mirror, his heart clenching at her pale, drawn face. "Sure thing, Jubes," he said, forcing a note of cheerfulness into his voice. "You rest. I'll take care of everything." As Jubilee drifted off, Tyson turned his attention back to the road.

At last, the Sanctum Sanctorum came into view. Tyson pulled the car to a stop, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw the Ancient One waiting for him on the steps, her face grave and her hands clasped.

Tyson rushed from the car. "Is the ritual prepared?" he asked, his voice tight, urgent. "We don't have much time." The Ancient One's expression remained somber, a flicker of sadness passing across her features. Tyson, still speaking, moved to open the car door, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I've got the blood, and Jubilee's here. We need to…"

He reached into the backseat, grasping Jubilee's leg to shake her awake.

But she remained still, limp and unresponsive.

Frowning, Tyson shook her harder, his voice rising. "Jubes? Jubilee, wake up!"

But there was no response. With a sinking dread, Tyson pulled her from the car, cradling her in his arms like a child. Her head lolled against his chest, her eyes closed and her lips parted. But no breath passed between them, and the rise and fall of her chest was absent.

Tyson looked to the Ancient One, his eyes wide and pleading, desperate for some sign of hope. But the sorcerer shook her head, her voice heavy with regret. "It's too late," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

The words hit Tyson like a physical blow, driving the air from his lungs and sending a wave of anguish crashing over him. He sank to his knees, pressing his forehead against Jubilee's, his tears falling onto her pale, lifeless face. There was no rush of power.

There was no life to drain from her body.

Jubilee was gone.

Tyson's shoulders shook with silent sobs.

The Ancient One watched in silence. She had seen death many times in her long life, but it never got easier, never hurt less.

Tyson reeled with the weight of his failure, with the knowledge that he had been too late, too slow, too weak, too stupid to save his friend. He had promised to protect her, save her, and he had failed. And now, he would have to live with that failure.

As he knelt there on the cold stone steps, cradling Jubilee's lifeless form in his arms, Tyson felt a part of himself die with her. The world seemed to spin around him, the colors fading to gray, the sounds muffled and distant.

Tyson's eyes locked with the Ancient One's, a flicker of desperation burning in their depths. His voice was low, carefully controlled, as he asked the question haunting him. "Was there a chance for me to save her? Were there any futures where she was cured before passing?"

The Ancient One met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "The outcome wasn't certain," she replied cryptically.

Tyson's mind raced, replaying every decision, every action he had taken since learning of Jubilee's fate. Had he wasted precious time chasing after the imposter Spider-Man? Should he have gone straight after Mystique, or Killgrave? If only he'd had more time...

Time.

The word echoed in Tyson's mind, a sudden realization dawning on him. He looked back at the Ancient One, his eyes wide with desperate hope. "You can bring her back?"

The Ancient One's expression softened, a flicker of sympathy passing across her features. "I know much magic," she said gently, "but there are some spells beyond my ability to cast. Resurrection is one such magic."

Tyson paused. "That's not what I meant," he mumbled.

"The Time Stone."

"It could… rewind her. Bring her back. How she was before being bitten by the vampire."

The Ancient One nodded, "It could."

Tyson waited, his heart pounding in his chest, a sense of detached calmness settling over him. The Ancient One continued, "And I am willing to do so." A rush of relief and joy threatened to overwhelm him. But his elation was cut short by the Ancient One's next words.

"However," she said, her voice taking on a note of finality, "it will be the only time I do so, and the Sanctum will be closed to you. For good."

Tyson tried to make sense of the Ancient One's words. Why would the Sanctum be closed to him if she used the Time Stone to save Jubilee? It didn't make sense, unless...

And then it hit him, a sudden, sickening realization that made his blood run cold.

He spoke the words aloud, his voice barely above a whisper, as much to himself as to the Ancient One. "Jubilee... losing her? Her becoming a vampire? Is it my cost? The cost I need to pay to become a sorcerer?"

The Ancient One's expression remained inscrutable, but she gave a slight nod. "In part," she replied, her words cryptic and laden with hidden meaning.

Tyson reeled with the implications of her words. To become a sorcerer, to learn the secrets of magic and harness its power... it had been one of his driving ambitions. Images of Dr. Strange fighting Thanos alone, without using an infinity stone, while Thanos had four passed through Tyson's mind.

But was all that power worth the cost of Jubilee's life, and her humanity? It was a price he wasn't sure he was willing to pay.

And yet, he had already secured Agatha Harkness as a magic tutor. Closing off the route to Kamar Taj, cutting himself off from the vast knowledge and resources of the sorcerers... it might be a hasty decision, one he could come to regret.

He searched for a way out, a loophole, or a compromise that would allow him to have both Jubilee and magic. And then he had an idea.

"The Stone will still affect her after she turns, right?" he asked.

The Ancient One nodded, her expression unreadable.

Tyson rose and gently placed Jubilee's still, lifeless form back into the car. He turned to the Ancient One, "I may return. Thank you for your consideration." he said with a slight bow.

And with that, he returned to the driver's seat. He drove off toward the Flatiron Armory. He knew that letting Jubilee turn, allowing her to become a vampire, was a risk. But the Ancient One had guaranteed that the Time Stone would be able to restore her humanity, to bring her back to the way she was before. If he was willing to give up learning magic.

He had an option. But he wouldn't make the decision prematurely.

Tyson carried Jubilee's lifeless body into the House of M. The once vibrant young woman was now silent and still. He entered the building and just stood there, unsure where to go. His mind was weighed down with grief and guilt.

After a few minutes, Felicia Hardy approached from down the hall. She took in the sight of Tyson carrying Jubilee's limp form cradled in his arms. A look of concern crossed her face, her green eyes flickering with worry.

"What happened?" she asked.

Tyson's voice was hoarse, the words catching in his throat as he spoke. "I wasn't fast enough. She died."

"She's going to turn."

Felicia reached out, her hand came to rest on Tyson's arm in a silent gesture of support. "It's okay," she said gently, her gaze softening as she met his eyes. "We can figure this out. But you need to be on your A-game. You can't stand here lost, worried about what you didn't do right. It happened." She paused for a beat. "Now take a breath. then tell me what we need to do and how I can help."

Tyson took a deep breath, forcing himself to push aside the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He thought for a second, considering their options. "I need the most secure room in this place," he said, "I don't know what will happen when she wakes up. I thought about the arena, but I don't want such a wide open area, she'll be faster than me. I need a space, that'll keep her confined."

"The Vault then," Felicia replied confidently.

"The Vault?"

Felicia huffed out a breath, "This was an armory remember? Armories required munitions to be stored inside secure areas, away from exterior walls. The one here is updated, ballistic-rated door and everything."

"That's perfect," Tyson mumbled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at the thought of such a room.

Felicia gestured for him to follow, leading the way until they reached a heavy steel door set into the concrete wall. The Vault was a holdover from the building's former purpose as an armory. The door was imposing with a series of locks and bolts securing it in place, and a small digital keypad glowed faintly in the dim light.

Inside, the room was sparse and utilitarian, the walls lined with metal shelves that were now empty. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting long, flickering shadows across the cold, hard floor. It was the perfect place to contain Jubilee until they could figure out what to do next. Tyson lowered her body gently onto the floor, his hands lingering on her before he straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the room.

Felicia stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him. "What else do you need?" she asked.

"Just a bed, a little food and water, and the door locked. I'll stay with her."

Felicia nodded, disappearing down the hall to gather the requested items. When she returned, Tyson pulled out the blood vial from Amora and handed it to her. "And get this to Dr. Connors," he said, "Tell him to learn everything he can about it."

Felicia took the vial, her fingers closing around the delicate glass. "I'll make sure he gets it," she promised, "We know how much Connors loves the different blood samples you bring him."

With that, she turned and left the room.

The heavy steel door closed behind her with a resounding thud. The locks engaged with a series of loud clicks, sealing Tyson and Jubilee inside the Vault. Alone in the dimly lit room, Tyson settled down beside Jubilee, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face.

No matter what it took, he would not give up on her. Not now, not ever.

Tyson had nothing left to do but wait. He had arrived back at House of M late, well after 2 am. Felicia had been working so hard recently, pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion, and Tyson knew he needed to do something special for her... well, something besides having Ivan Vanko build her one of the world's most advanced super suits.

As the hours ticked by, Tyson stayed by Jubilee's side, his eyes never leaving her face. She lay eerily still, her chest unmoving, her skin pale and cold to the touch. Tyson nibbled on bits of food and sipped at the water Felicia had left for him, but mostly he meditated, his mind reaching out to the white room, seeking the door that had eluded him for months.

To pass the time, Tyson played with his illusions, conjuring up little shows for himself, tiny ghostly performances that played out around him. It was a small comfort, a way to keep his mind occupied and his heart from sinking into despair.

And then, just as the last rays of daylight faded outside, it happened.

Jubilee, who had been still for hours, suddenly moved.

It was a subtle thing. But to Tyson, who had enhanced senses and had been watching her, it was obvious.

He leaned forward, holding his breath. And then, in one eerie motion, Jubilee's eyes shot open, as if she had been wide awake the whole time. She sat up, her movements unnatural.

Jubilee's head turned slowly, her eyes locking onto Tyson's with a predatory focus. A smile spread across her face, but it was not the warm, mischievous grin he had come to love. This smile held a ravenous hunger that sent a chill down Tyson's spine.

"Jubilee?" Tyson whispered hoarsely, "Is that... is that you?"

She tilted her head, her gaze never leaving his. And then he saw her fangs. Long and sharp, standing out as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Of course, it's me, Ty," she purred, her voice like honey. "Who else would it be?"

For the first time, he saw her chest rise as she inhaled deeply, sniffing the air.

"That blonde was right," she admitted.

"God, you smell good enough to eat."