Chapter 7- Message from the Past

Unknown Tower in Antarctica Special Region, 12-02-2008 (Evening)

Elizabeth ‘Betsy’ Braddock (Psylocke)-

“If you are seeing this, then we are have failed and are all dead.”

The words were not psychic but they still seemed to speak to her soul. Betsy pulled her eyes from the golden bed and turned around to find the speaker. She saw that Exodus must have felt something since he had his left arm raised and his shield was gone instead a ball of light the size of a watermelon floated in front of his palm, aimed at a man made of red and green light.

His clothes were green while his flesh was red. He held one hand in the other and his face was so sad she wanted to run over and hug him.

“He speaks Sarkovian?” Gypsy asked in confusion.

"No, he speaks the King's English." Exodus corrected.

The man of light ignored them both and continued to speak. “Weither you are here as a scholar seeking my knowledge or as a robber seeking my trinkets. I ask you only this.” The man lifted his arm to point at the bed behind her. ”Spare my son, my legacy, the last of the Magi. He had no stake in this war.”

‘War, which war?’ Betsy wondered. She also noticed that the watermelon ball of Exodus’ had shrunk to only a baseball. Worried he might do something Betsy took a step towards him. But the older man simply waved and the ball disappeared.

"Either way, a just reward will be waiting for you." The man of light said, before bowing, first towards Gypsy, then towards Exodus, and finally towards her, before glitching out and just disappearing.

“{Vani}” Gypsy said. Betsy was sure what that meant, but then Sarkovian wasn’t one of her more familiar languages. Gypsy asked, in English. “What was that?”

“A hologram.” Betsy muttered matter-of-factly.

"A last will and testament," Exodus answered more firmly than her.

The man walked over towards the nearest empty bed and leaned against the footboard, ’Foot-stone?’ Betsy wondered.

Betsy wasn't having as hard a time as the others, as she had no intention of killing anyone here. She had felt what everyone, but Magneto, had thought about when Quicksilver had suggested killing everyone here and taking this place for themselves. While Gypsy had thoughts of hesitancy, meanwhile Exodus had agreed that taking the tower would be the best thing for them. But as Betsy saw it the people down here were so far removed from the human/ mutant conflict there was a limited possibility of them having a side. ‘Although there were the strange people Exodus and Gypsy reported, the dog-men, so maybe there are mutants down here too. In all actuality, the people down here, save for this boy and the person upstairs is probably just trying to survive.’

A minute passed as they processed or waited for the other to react, when Exodus said out of nowhere, "He's not a mutant." He was looking at the gold-plated bed again.

Betsy moved to the side, hoping to stall the more powerful mutant even a little. She knew the history the man had with a similar golden tomb, which had imprisoned him for over eight hundred and fifty years. Exodus' only request is to be able to take revenge against the man, the 'Demon' he called him, which had imprisoned him if he was even still alive.

Betsy stared at him, and he stared back. Exodus finally sighed and looked away. While they waited she noticed that Gypsy had walked deeper into the room to get a better view of the tomb which excited them both.

“How do we know he is a ‘he’?” Gypsy asked her accent stronger than usual. Perhaps her using Sarkovian triggered something mentally.

"The message called him his 'son'," Psylocke explained.

“Aye.” Exodus agreed.

"Oh, the man used {coplie}, in Sarkovian that means child, not son. Although in older terms it could mean heir." After her short rambling Gypsy saw that both of them were looking at her intensely with their glances so she bowed her head and muttered "Sorry".

"Don't apologize," Exodus said.

“It’s a sign of weakness.” Betsy added. When she did he looked back at her. That was when she asked. “How do you know he isn’t?”

He looked away, however, his thoughts pouring off of him for Betsy to see. She didn't want to dig so all she got were images. Most were of battles and she felt waves of anger in them, but others were of faces she didn't recognize. But Betsy doubted they could be alive given how old he was. However more than that there was a hidden feeling of guilt in them too in the latter ones.

Instead of continuing to look at her, Exodus looked at the bed before as he answered. "I know magic was real. But I couldn't explain how, as they had taken the details from me. You see even before this 'Modern' era, we mutants were seen as demons or monsters. I was in a night battle when my powers awoke, with them I was able to save many of the men under my command, but they feared what I had become and left me."

Gypsy showed pity all over her face. But Betsy was still worried about the only helpless person here, so she sent to the other woman a psychic message. "Just give him a moment. But be ready, the golden coffin and him hava a past." Gypsy looked past the man between them and nodded at Betsy.

Anger poured off of Exodus before he turned and took a step towards Betsy. "Humans cannot be trusted! All they know is betrayal." As he closed his fists, rods of light materialized on either side of him, they stretched and formed into long-bladed spears, Exodus was ready to lash out at something.

‘Not all light is visible.’ She thought, remembering a lesson from her past. Betsy closed her own first, psychic energy pouring from it forming a shapeless blade of her own.

"Please calm yourself. You're not making sense Exodus." Gypsy cried. A red aura flashed in and out as she lost concentration at the sudden stress.

“Yes Exodus, either explain yourself with words or show me your memories. But I will not let you kill this boy.” Betsy said as she tried to remain calm, her feelings anything but calm. “Besides, he may be a solid lead on your ‘Demon’.”

Exodus took a breath but did not dismiss his spears nor relaxed his fists. "I had made a reputation for myself. Righting some wrongs that needed it. Twelfth-century laws are not so blurry as today's." He took a breath and relaxed his hands. But the spears of light remained. "I was on the run. When I met these two, honestly, I thought that they were barbarians. 'A mentor and his student' he said to me. 'Druids' they called themselves. They took me to their village. I used their kindness as a way to catch my breath. Not that I truly needed it. It's just that I didn't want to kill everyone, only those that wronged me… God was I weak then."

“That doesn’t…” Betsy began to say.

But Exodus interrupted her saying. “They thought I was him, or one of his kind, a ‘Mage’.” He pointed past her towards the golden tomb. “Something about a legend and my eyes, they were never quite clear.”

Exodus did have unique eyes. They were glowing red orbs with white dots where the pupils should be. Even in a pitch-black room, Betsy could find Exodus because of his eyes.

Exodus sighs before continuing his story. "I failed their lessons, they were trying... to teach me something. But because I failed they did something to me. And the details are gone. Their names, their location, and what they were trying to teach me. All of it, gone."

Exodus and Betsy continued their stare-off. However, neither won as Gypsy interrupted them.

"And?" She asked. Exodus didn't turn around. He just tilted his head a bit. Betsy knew that he had an enhanced field of vision, so she assumed he moved just enough to see their teammate.

“What do you mean?” Exodus asked softly, Gypsy clearly taking the wind out of his sails.

"I mean, so he's a mage. So what?" Gypsy shrugged after saying that and then continued. "I mean, I'm a mutant and that woman came looking for me, trying to talk me into becoming some powerful witch thing. So why couldn't he be both? It's not like we know who a person will be a mutant till their powers awaken."

For a moment Exodus didn’t seem convinced, but then he waved his hands and his spears disappeared. “You’re both right.” He muttered. “He could be a mutant like us, and he could be a lead to the Demon. But it is not our call. Magneto will…”

Betsy couldn't feel the anger in his thoughts anymore. However, smugness had overtaken any other feeling in his thoughts. So she interrupted him, "the Brotherhood is a group."

But Exodus adapted quickly, saying. “A group that follows orders. So you will…”

“Wait here. As Magneto said I would lead you and Gypsy to find this sleeping, man.” Betsy countered again. She could feel his feelings shift and conflict with each other as what she had said had been correct. Wanting to finalize this debate she added. “Besides your floating back would be quicker than our walking back, thus allowing Magneto to learn of what we discovered sooner. And don’t forget there is still the person on the top floor waiting for us. We could use this man’s aid in securing this place.”

Exodus seemed to still be conflicted, but eventually stood up straight and said. "Again you are correct. You are in command of this endeavor. I will return to the others and report our findings. However, I suggest you not open this tomb until either I or someone else returns to tell you to do so."

He did not bow or nod. Exodus simply turned and started walking out. On his way back out into the hallway he made another rod of light to illuminate the passages along his way. Once the light from his emitter was no longer in sight from their dimly lit room, did Betsy dismiss her psychic blade and take a breath.

Gypsy moved closer to Betsy, as most of the light in the room came from the golden tomb behind them. Once she was within arms reach of stopped and asked. “Do you think he would have killed this boy?”

Betsy looked at the younger woman. Her powers told her that she was conflicted about something, but whatever training she had received from her father made it so that not even images fell away from her. ‘Or her powers had changed again.’ Betsy wondered.

“If we hadn’t talked him down, then yes. I believe that Exodus would have lashed out had killed the man behind me without a doubt.” Betsy said seriously. “After we calmed him down, and he asked to be left alone with him, I’m not sure. Exodus is very old. He was born in the middle of the twelfth century so he thinks about things differently than we do.”

Betsy felt with her powers Gypsy was still conflicted, which made her wonder if Exodus wasn’t the source of the younger woman’s worries. “Why?” Gypsy asked.

Betsy sighed, as she hesitated to answer. "The Brotherhood can only work if we trust each other. Did you know that our group wasn't the first Brotherhood?" Gypsy shook her head, and Betsy continued. "Some of the first members, well they only joined because they could use the group as an excuse to kill people and steal. So there was no cohesion and no trust among its members, of those with us today only Magneto and Mystique remain.”

Betsy looked at a set of odd steps that allowed someone to climb up onto the coffin, so stood on the first one and planned to sit on the top step. However, she noticed a glass or crystal window on the roof of the coffin. 'Well, that wasn't on the other one we found.' For a second she saw inside the inner chamber and caught a glimpse of the boy inside.

"Wait you're not a founding member?" Gypsy's question startled Betsy making her snap back to the younger woman.

"How old do you think I am?!" Betsy saw the younger woman blush, so she shook her head before sitting down on the top step and in a softer tone spoke again. "Never mind, the point I was trying to get is, when I convinced your dad to reform the Brotherhood we set up some simple rules and the top one of those is that we don't reveal things about our brothers and sisters. But since he already brought it up in front of you, I guess I can spell it out for you. The short of it is your dad and I found him in a golden box not too un-similar to this one." As she finished Betsy taped the side of the golden bed behind her.

After another minute or two of silence, Gypsy asked. "Do you think they'll agree to wake him up?" But Betsy just shrugged. Another handful of seconds pass and Gypsy suggests. "Maybe we should wake him up ourselves."

Shocked Betsy asked. “What? Why?”