Chapter 123: The Weary

Saturday Morning June 10th, 2022. The Rogue Mutant Nation of Krakoa….

It had been an eventful four months. With Hope and Cables help, Bronte was able to turn the island into a fully functioning nation with growing stakes and importance in the eyes of the U.N. An important goal. One they needed to thwart the growing possibility of terrorism.

They had no allies. Too much power. And more than too much to lose.

Bronte went to sleep with that on his mind ever since they landed. He didn't sleep much to begin with. There was work to be done. Islands didn't grow themselves.

Well, Krakoa did. But only when Bronte was around.

He hadn't left since. That much was visible in the way their home evolved. He could only hope their grim future would begin to evolve in similar ways soon….

"One day I'll wake up and you'll be sleeping still." Ilyana's voice came as softly as their Krakoan-spider silk sheets.

"One day." Bronte repeated as he watched the stars through the skylight in their modified treehouse.

He pulled in a gust of early morning winds. Their sheets fluttered. Her smells coalesced around him. Their matress rocked on its hammock strings.

"Are you trying to put me back to sleep?" Ilyana asked with a knowing smile.

"The sun ain't up yet. Of course I am." Bronte replied.

"But what if I want to be awake with you?"

"I'm not going nowhere." Bronte replied.

"That's a double negative."

He knew she was fully awake because her voice wasn't so soft anymore. Her accent was rising with her.

"And yes you are." She slapped his chest.

"My bad."

She let her hand stay on his chest. Her fingers traced lines around where she must've memorized wounds long since healed. Then she moved down to his abdomen, outlining the insertions of muscle. Then lower.

"We all have our jobs. You said you're the best at what you do…. But there's one thing you haven't done to me enough yet."

"Oh word?"

"Yes word."

"Then let's fix that."

***

The sun was up. The sheets were gone— somewhere. Bronte was preoccupied.

Ilyana lay beneath him. Her naked pale skin glimmered like spotless porcelain, given a near magical luster from her sweat. From her breaths, coming from her pinked lips as she let out quieted exhales. Growing louder.

He knew how to press her buttons. She was a competitor. An introvert by choice. But he could make her do any and all things extra depending on where he placed his lips.

Her neck was inviting. He could hear her blood rush there. Heading to her rosy cheeks.

The arc of her collarbone was as well. So dainty yet strong. Lined by goosebumps as his kisses came like a light rain.

She groaned and gripped his shoulder. Nails digging in. Her legs wrapped his waist. She tightened. Teleporting discs opened all around the room like stars descended. Their magic harmonized as he swallowed her moans in a kiss.

Her shouts of ecstasy went unheard as lightning and white fire bloomed from the discs and the whole room burst with magic.

Silence fell.

The magic dissipated.

Morning sunlight warmed their sweating naked bodies.

"I'm not done." Bronte said as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Me neither." Ilyana lied.

He could feel her legs shake as they held his waist.

"You know I got endless stamina right?" Bronte watched a bead of his sweat drip from his ear and land on her cheek. A small explosion of lightning and blue fire lingered. Nearly microscopic.

Ilyana smiled wolfishly. Her wild blonde hair rustling against the wood floors as she pushed Bronte back and fully eyed him. "But do you have endless control?"

Bronte leaned back into her. She embraced him, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck as she prepared to kiss him more.

He froze right before she could. Clouds blocked the sun, casting them in darkness.

"Ask the weather." Bronte replied with a grin.

Ilyana's smile remained. "You think you're so…."

"I do."

"Yea?"

"Y—Ah!"

She wrapped her legs tighter around him and pulled him into her.

Three knocks stopped Ilyana from winning.

"May I join?"

Bronte and Ilyana rolled their eyes.

"Only if you want to die, Emma." Ilyana replied from beneath Bronte.

"For the both of you…. It might be worth it. We'd make a…. Killer throuple, don't you think?"

Bronte got up and opened the door.

Emma Frost stood on the balcony wearing a white silk dress adorned with frozen flowers and white furs. Her hair— once cut in their war against the Neyaphem, was now all the way down to her exposed low back in a tight braid. She didn't meet his eyes.

"Well hello there. I usually don't like the snakes here but—"

"I will shoot myself in front of you both." Mystique said from behind her.

"Why are you two here so early. Usually you're….."

"Doing what you two were just doing?" Emma finished Ilyana's words as she came behind Bronte and covered him in a sheet.

"Yes." Ilyana replied.

"What's the matter?" Bronte questioned.

"Relax, captain." Emma said, "I come with good news. The scientist I've been….. entertaining has given me some state of the art resources and information. Combine that with the help from Wakanda and Beast's notes Mystique was able to steal in that heist last month and I think I got it."

Bronte blinked in surprise, "It was that easy?"

"I can read minds and rock any man's entire misogynistic world in less than two minutes. It's a cakewalk, handsome." Emma replied within his mind.

"So, how long?" Bronte questioned.

"With a little help, I could have a cure to six autoimmunue disorders and three forms of cancer in less than three months. From there we have more than enough swaying power with the U.N to be recognized as a sovereign nation and gain a very pretty penny. With my silver tongue and your kingly might, we can even forge a few disgruntled allies to garner a little more security."

"Ok, get started on that right away. Take anyone you need. Make sure you have Cypher with you."

"You don't want him to continue developing communications with Krakoa?" Mystique questioned.

"Do we have the prison sect made?" Bronte asked.

"Last time we spoke he said it's almost finished."

"Ok, I'll go see what he's on. Then I'll get back to you." Bronte replied.

Mystique and Emma nodded in understanding.

"I obviously don't need to tell you but great work. Y'all are putting in overtime, I'll find a way to pay you back." Bronte said.

"You better." Emma winked.

Then, the two turned and left.

Bronte shut the door and turned back to Ilyana. She was beautiful. Not in any perverse way either. Even as she stood in her nakedness, arms crossed over her chest for no reason other than irritation. Her platinum blonde hair hung past her waist, somehow never curling. Always straight and spotless. Spotless. Like her skin. Even with the scars of battle and torture. She was….

"Duty calls."

"Always."

He kissed her again. As if he hadn't been all morning. They didn't get much time together. He cherished what he was given. Sometimes it just took a moment to get his mind there.

"Don't forget, you have Wind-Rider training today." Ilyana said as they disconnected.

"Might have to skip that one—"

"Don't be a fool. You four are our strongest mutants alive right now. Plus, you need to speak to Hope. It sounds like we are ready to continue following her lead to the future. It's time to find The Five." Ilyana explained.

Brontë hugged her, "This is why I need you."

"It is. Where to?"

"I need to speak with Magneto."

A teleporting disc opened in the door behind him.

"See you tonight." Ilyana handed him a pair of clothes. They moved like slime for a moment before resolidifying.

"See ya."

***

From inside the wooded walls of Bronte and Ilyana's tree home, one could almost imagine they were still in New York. Occupying some modernized primal home aesthetic stolen straight from the internet.

Then he stepped out into his new world.

Cypher had been busy. People were beginning to call him The Druid.

As Brontë looked around like he didn't do nearly enough, he understood why.

Great wood and stone skyscrapers breached the green canopies. Vines ran as wires, running not on electricity by biochemical impulses and sunlight. Massive flowers sat on rooftops, antenna and other flowery phenomena moved like fingers. Bio-satellites. They gave them a sort of internet no one fully understood yet. That was to be said for all of Krakoa.

Yet to be understood.

Mutant children played in a nearby stream. When Bronte's eyes fell on them they giggled and ran away, pretending to be the StormWolf while other kids played as the enemy Vampires.

Bronte's clothing shifted over him. Turning into a green t-shirt that hugged his frame and brown khaki's. He didn't need shoes. The grass felt nice enough.

Deeper inside the forest, past the streams where children played, a stone and metal castle stood in the dark. Red fires illuminated the black like chaotic eyes watching his approach.

"It's been a while, young king." Someone said from the trees as Brontë walked towards Magneto's home.

"What's goin on, Toad?" Bronte replied.

"Many things. But you know that." He hopped through the trees, smelling of tree saps and sweat and hormones.

"Right."

"A little birdy told me we're about to begin the next phase of our plans."

"Oh yea? Who's the bird in this metaphor?" Bronte questioned.

"My lips are s—UGH!" A stray gust of wind blasted Toad out of the trees.

Despite his inhuman agility and reflexes, Bronte caught him by the collar of his black and green water-suit.

Toad tried to wriggle free. Bronte's Symbiote limb transformed into an electrified black vice covered in runes.

"You have too many powers, man. Too many….." Toad submitted. His big yellow bug eyes remained moving around in his skull like struck pinballs as he tracked mosquitoes.

"Gotta keep up with the times." Bronte replied.

"Right….. gods and monsters." Toad nodded.

"Exactly. Gods and monsters that want us dead…. And worse, you feel me?"

Toad nodded.

Brontë shook him, "Do you? Cause you keep playing like you don't."

Toad threw his hands up in defeat, "Alright. I'm sorry— I shouldn't be teasing you like that. I just can't help it sometimes…. Y'know? You walk around more tense then a loaded spring it's kinda hilarious."

"We don't need to lie. You weren't playing, Toad. I know you don't like it here….. which is interesting considering…. Well." Bronte looked the weretoad up and down as if his build explained the discrepancy. It did.

"What if I told ya I was more than my biology?" Toad inquired.

Brontë sighed and set him down, "I'd tell you, I'm embarrassed that you had to tell me that."

"Water under the bridge, brother." Toad giggled, "Most people wouldn't expect a guy like me to enjoy being the oddball in the big city."

"Cap." Bronte said, "I'm just… busy. Everyone expects that from you, Toad."

"Yea…"

The two stood awkwardly for a moment before Bronte slapped his shoulder, "Anyway, yea. We're making some forward moves. Stop spying and maybe I'll let you hit another heist in the big city with Mystique."

"Oh hell yea. Mystique hates me, though…" Toad burped.

"Mystique has beef with everybody. If you stopped playing maybe she'd warm up to you."

Toad giggled as if the thought was a joke all on its own, "Not a chance, boss."

In a flash, he hopped back into the trees. As he swung and flipped through the canopy, the sloppy pink blur of his tongue moved sporadically in search of bugs. Which he also referred to as "good eats."

"Gotta do something about him." Bronte put the thought at the back of his mind and headed towards Magneto's home.

It wasn't as supervillainous as an earthly metal and stone castle should've looked on paper. It was historic. Homely in its architectural tact and lack of gaudy displays. The spires weren't poking the clouds. The corridors visible from where he stood on the ground werent shrouded in shadow. Under the sun it looked... warm. Peaceful. Children played in a garden to his left with metal figurines and building blocks.

He knocked twice. His hard knuckles resonated through the whole building. The cold steel warmed at his touch.

No response.

He rolled his shoulders and scented the air.

He could smell Wanda easiest. She had a strong presence. Herbs like cinnamon and vanilla with an afterscent of hellfire. Something sulfuric and poisonous that shouldn't have blended so well with the previous scents. Piotr's scents were stronger around the castle than inside.

"Recently ran a perimeter. He's probably eating right now." Bronte thought. "Alright, I'm coming in."

He pushed the door. As if he had the powers of Magneto himself, the metal block slid across the polished wood floors and gave way.

The walked up the stairs wasn't silent. Most things weren't to people with superhuman hearing.

They were rushing.

Wanda was guarding the door. Piotr was using his speed to complete a task— hopefully before Bronte reached the door into the master bedroom. Should've made the spiral stair longer.

He opened the door.

Wanda stood, eyes wide, hair a mess— a rarity for her. Somehow she still looked glorious even in her mundane pants and t shirt.

"Bronte— please…." Piotr stood in front of his father.

Bronte looked back to Wanda— more so to give Magneto a semblance of privacy.

Wanda looked elsewhere. Face a mask of guilt and…..

He scented her.

Fear.

He stayed close to her and whispered, "I know."

"H-How….?" Wanda's slim dark eyebrows climbed up her forehead.

"Let him in, then." Magneto grumbled with a sigh.

Wanda stepped aside.

Brontë entered the room.

For a master bedroom it wasn't very…. master-like.

A kingsize bed sat with its back to a massive open window. The silk blinds blew in the wind like hair. At the nightstand to the left of the bed, kiddush cups smelling of anything but wine sat in no particular order.

Between the bed and door, a round table held a metal lifelike model of a place he'd never been too. A time period he never occupied.

Magneto sat in a wheelchair beside his bed, zipping up his white and silver suit. With his helmet off, the age was visible. Pure white hair like a mane fell around his shoulders. Crows feet and smile lines were etched into his face like blade cuts. He looked archaic.

"Bronte— we were plannning to tell you."

"No we were not, young man. Be truthful when facing your allies or allies they will be no more." Magneto dispelled his sons words.

Piotr dropped his head, "We were not."

"It's fine. In any normal circumstance it wouldn't be my business. But we're all we got, and this type of information could get us caught up." Bronte explained.

Weakly at first, Magneto got out of his wheelchair. Then, he started moving like he usually did.

"How long you been paralyzed, Mags?" Bronte asked.

"Years." Magneto replied.

"The suit….. it's lined with metal. There's also metallic proteins and hormones injected intravenously that keep his mass. When he's using his powers, he's physically at his prime….." Wanda explained.

"But when he isn't…" Bronte continued.

Piotr shook his head as if to say, "You don't want to know."

"How did you know?" Wanda asked.

"Krakoa speaks to me when I sleep. I see things….. one of the first things I saw was you. In here. Unmoving at that table for hours. I saw how you tried to move your toes, your feet. I saw you cry... I thought it was a bad dream at first. Then….. I started watching you. When you walk, you move your fingers like you're playing a piano. Old recordings show you doing the same when you use your powers."

Magneto nodded, "Well done. It's ironic almost. I can't seem to untie myself from Charles. If I'm not completely opposing him, I must become him. Surely I'll start balding next."

"Let's not wish bad on ourselves." Bronte replied.

Magneto smiled, faintly. "Are you having any other dreams, Bronte? They say you don't sleep anymore."

"Nothing."

"Why lie, Bronte?" Wanda questioned.

Bronte sighed and ran his hands over his face, "It's nothing. Nightmares. I keep seeing….. green lightning. I hear things roaring. Everyone's dead again. The worlds covered in a weird fog…"

"We didn't even bring them back yet." Piotr commented.

"That's what I'm saying." Bronte nodded. "Speaking of, I came here because the Ressurection Council is due for a meeting."

"The White Queen has made progress, I presume?" Magneto questioned.

Brontë nodded. "We're ready to move on Hope and Cable's plans soon so I wanna make sure we're all on the same page."

"Very well. And what of your Wind-Riders?"

"Seeing them next."

Bronte was about to fly out the window when Wanda grabbed his arm.

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry. I only kept it from you because your plate is already full." He'd never seen her look so solemn. Aside from the time she spoke to Storm about someone named Banner.

Brontë patted her arm. The familiar chaos magic made his legs numb but he didn't let her see it. She was self concious, "Don't sweat it. We been locked in since the beginning. I don't assume anything but your best intentions. I get it. I'll see you at the meeting."

"And I shall have your back in discussion."

They shook up and he left to join his Wind-Riders in training.