EPILOGUE
[size=+0]"If it weren’t for the actions of those young students from EPIC, I’m certain I would have been killed.”[/size]
The holographic news footage of the Raynes interview played out before those gathered in the great hall. Around the table, some watched with interest, some with disdain, as footage from closed circuit security cameras showed clips of the combat, both at the mall and downtown at both the club and in the main foyer of the apartment.
The heroic efforts of these few teens certainly saved the life of beloved philanthropist, Martha Raynes. But the battle was not without its casualties, as four members of the rescue party are currently en route to Bush Memorial Hospital for treatment of life-threatening injuries. Thanks to the action of one of the mutants with healing powers, most other injuries were treated on scene.
Despite the success of their mission, not everyone is supportive of their actions.
The scene cuts to various interviews with patrons of the strip-club, terrified and injured when things unexpectedly turned violent. Many mentionings of giant spiders is heard, and the general consensus is that without the timely arrival of Titan, things would have been much worse. A building mechanic is interviewed, irate about damage done to his helicopter.
"She just came up and destroyed the rotors!” he exclaims, and camera footage shows Michelle doing just that.
Skylar Holten, building manager and a mutant himself, had this to say.
"When that one bug-eyed goat-like boy charged in, making demands and threats against me, I feared that a gang of huligans was going to cause trouble. But I certainly cannot argue with the rescue of such a wonderful woman as Martha Raynes. This “B” team of EPIC needs a new spokesman though. That boy had the social skills of a slug. Despite that, I certainly am glad they took care of that frightening man with the axe, and saved the life of my co-workers and myself.”
The police are being tight lipped about the incident, especially this.
The scene zooms in on the discs on the roof and the spiders in the lobby, as well as the blood sample taken from Raisa in the club.
It seems whoever is behind this is part of the agenda of a few weeks past, where a world-wide initiative was taken by unknown individuals to take blood samples of various mutants. I’ll be continuing to cover this story as it develops.
For CNN, I’m Theresa Soulsmith.
At the head of the table, the man veiled in shadows sits, hand resting atop a wine goblet, Xavier just behind his chair. He watches a seething teenager in a chair nearby. As he knew he would, the teen leaps to his feet.
“He was supposed to die!” Kevin York screams, slamming his hand into the table in anger. “I’m supposed to be the original. Not him! Me!”
“Calm yourself,” a wispy voice hisses softly. “It simply means you will have to kill him later.” A ghostly figure of a man appears and floats through the table, settling in a seat next to Kevin.
“You promised me,” Kevin complains. Several people around the table chuckle.
“And you promised me you would secure the rest of the blood samples I needed. All of them. Yet I find myself short by five,” the shadow cloaked man says warningly.
“Those punks from EPIC interfered,” Kevin says quickly in explanation. “It wasn’t my fault!”
“An excuse. Foolish,” the shadow cloaked man says, a faint hit of a dark smile playing at the corner of his lips. “And unnecessary. You did better than I could have ever anticipated.
“I promised you two things; the opportunity to become the original, and a place in my service. You have earned the latter. The former will come in time. Ghost, take our newest member to Tank’s workshop. I have a gift there for him.”
As the two are leaving, the man calls out, “And hurry back. I think it is time to remind the world that Anarchy is still around.” Those seated around the table share some excited chatter over that announcement.
Xavier grips his tray tightly, knuckles going white, but says nothing. The shadowed man notices and laughs. “It bothers you doesn’t it,” the man asks rhetorically. He waits a long while, matching stares with Xavier. The butler doesn’t back down.
"Good. Hatred. I can use that," the man says, chuckling. He walks to the end of the hall, leaving those at the table to their conversations and stares into the fire crackling in the hearth.