In Phoenix, there is still a semblance of freedom. No Human High Council. No Onslaught. No X-Men. Nothing except normal people that try to make a life for themselves any way they can. Usually that means stealing and murder, but mostly it means watching out for each other.

That's why such a large number of superhumans frequent community. Most are third or fourth stringers, but their sheer numbers and presence are enough to give even Onslaught pause. Several times the Prelates had attacked the domed cities of Phoenix, and every time they were beaten back. It's been nearly four months since the last assault, and the natives have become restless.

Cyclone takes a sip of his whiskey and considers the other guys in the bar. Over thirty of them in all, armed with bizarre powers and even more bizarre weaponry. "Those damn Prelates seem to have got the message. Maybe Las Vegas is finally safe."

Firebrand -- the unofficial leader of the little town garrison -- snorts as he downs his warm beer. "No way. Onslaught might have left us alone for a while as long as we stayed put, but there's no way he'll accept defeat." He then yells over to Miracle Man and Turner D Century. "Hey losers! How's the psi-dampener holding up?"

"Do the words 'junk' tell you anything?" Turner growls as he takes a seat. "Without Wraith and Mind-Wave to recharge it every 48 hours, it'd blow sky high, and probably take a chunk of us with it. As it is, I doubt it could stop Mastermind, much less Onslaught or Prelate Grey. Least the teleportation blocker's still operational."

Firebrand nods. He'd been surprised that none of Onslaught's telepaths have tried anything. Bastard probably thinks we aren't worth it. "Well, sit down and have a drink. It'd be real impolite not to take advantage of Scourge's talents." The friends chuckle as they share in a round of beers. "Yeah, that Scourge sure is a godsend," Cheetah purrs. "Without him brewing some good liquor, we'd have to contend with that swill the Fly makes."

"Hey," the Fly tries to add, but a round of cheers interrupts him.

"And here's the man of the hour now!" Firebrand and the others raise their glasses as the Scourge strides into the bar. Beneath his trench coat and fedora, his usually blank face seems ecstatic, almost smug.

"Thank you all so much." Scourge stands on the bar counter, looking at the dazed and wasted faces of his colleagues. "Now that you're all good and drunk, I have an announcement to make." From beneath his coat, he pulls out what appears to be a metallic rod. "I just damaged the teleportation blocker. The rest of my Brotherhood will be here in 5. 4. 3. 2. 1."

A blinding flash appears amidst the shocked and sloshed superhumans. Before their horror-filled eyes, three individuals have materialized.

Toad, Unus, Vanisher. Together with the mutant known as Changeling, they are the Brotherhood, Onslaught's elite espionage and assassin strikeforce. The gathered drinkers at the bar look on with fear, terror, and a little too much bravery.

Titania grabs a huge chair and prepares to throw it, screaming to rally the others. "There's only three of them and over thirty of us! We can-Urk!" She drops to the ground, blood pouring from her mouth.

It was a blur, but everybody knows that Toad had tongued her. Swallowing the bloody organ he'd ripped out of her oesophagus, Toad smiles at the vomiting bar goers. "Ah, I just love it when girls give me tongue. Now everybody just line up and die!" Cackling madly, he leaps into the fray, powerful kicks shattering bones and dodging pathetic attacks.

Unus follows his orders to the letter. Protecting himself and Vanisher with his forcefield, he then extends it outward at certain points, smashing opponents against the walls. Morphing these extensions, he sends invisible spikes and hammers throughout the masses, giving Toad more room to manoeuvre.

Scourge vanished amidst the confusion.

Firebrand ran the moment he saw the Prelates. Sneaking amidst the alleyways, he head for the nearest exit out of the city, hoping against hope that an army of Onslaught won't be waiting on the other side. He doesn't even considering warning the citizens of Phoenix, caring more about his own pathetic life.

He reaches a small square that leads to one of the side exits and stops dead. The once green grass of the square is covered with blood, dripped from the crucified bodies that litter the square. Firebrands clenches his eyes and tries to keep down his meal at the sight of hundreds of bloody, distorted humans. His legs unable to support him, he collapses to the blood drenched soil. "You're now the sole surviving citizen of Phoenix. Co-operate and it can stay that way." Squinting up into the blazing sun, Firebrand winces at the sight of the man that was the Scourge. The trench coat and fedora are gone, replaced by a hilarious purple costume complete with a misshapen headpiece. But there is nothing humorous in the featureless face of the Changeling.

Fighting back his tears, Firebrand cowers down before the awesome might of his captors. "I'll tell you whatever you want. You want the caches of loot hidden in the city? Fine. You want the secrets of my powers, and those of my pals? Fine. Just tell me and get it over with."

Chuckling, Changeling kicks the former security chief of Phoenix onto his back. "Onslaught could care less about this city's wealth, or the paltry power of its former protectors." Placing his foot on Firebrand's chest, he goes face-to-face with the dead man breathing. "No, our illustrious master wants only one thing. That is the location of this town's founder and caretaker, angel and devil; the grand manipulator himself"

"Just tell me where the omnipath is, and you're free to go."

Firebrand's mouth goes dry, and he finds he cannot speak, no matter how much he wants to. Pain unlike any other envelopes his mind when he so much as tries to think of the answer. Changeling just sighs.

"I thought this would be difficult. Now you're brain will have to be turned to mush." He places his hand on Firebrand's forehead and closes his eyes. His headpiece is more than a mere hat. Given to him by Onslaught himself, it serves to channel his latent psionic power, making him something of a telepath. {Jean, you'll have to help me out here. This guy's well protected.}

{Anything to get close to me, eh Sidney? Very well, I could go for a little fun.} As the barriers within his mind are shattered and all of his knowledge is torn away, Firebrand screams. Long and loud, it is the unearthly scream of a man losing his mind, body, and soul. It is the scream of a man that has met a fate worse than death.

Several minutes later, Toad, Unus, and Vanisher pop into the square. Toad takes delight in the scores of bodies hanging and dripping around him, but he clucks his tongue when he sees what's left of Firebrand. "Aw shucks, I was hoping for a little slow torture of my own. At least tell me you found what the big 'O' wanted."

Changeling smiles at Toad, nodding in the affirmative. He then tells them one word, and Vanisher silently teleports them to their next destination. That word: Singapore.

"You may think you're hot stuff kid, but let's see how you react when the heat's really on!" With this defiant scream, the temperature in the area grew to extreme conditions, particularly around the target it was meant for.

"Who are you calling a kid tall hair? I can take what you've got and a lot more. The question is, can you?" Thunderbird retorted as he sent a fiery stream of superhot plasma towards his opponent.

Legion stood unmoving, confident in his own abilities. Moments before reaching him, the stream of plasma splashed off some invisible object, drops of it falling to the ground with a sickening hiss. Legion just smiled.

"My telekinesis can counter anything you throw at me Neal, while my own heat powers protect me from the ambient heat it gives off. Now power down and get your score."

Fuming in frustration, Thunderbird landed softly to the ground, his body already in the process of shifting from plasma to flesh and blood. "You have to admit it Dave, I nearly got you a couple of times."

Legion shakes his head. "With my invisible telekinesis, I guess you'll never know. However, you did put up a good offensive, and you aerial skills were terrific. Between that and the difficult composition of your plasma form, my telekinesis was virtually useless offensively. I'd say that your own pyrokinetic powers are greater than mine, which further limited me against you. Overall, you managed to stalemate against me, which is quite a feat Neal."

Thunderbird smiles, thankful of such praise. Unfortunately, an Aussie voice from behind comes along to ruin it. "Yeah, but don't be letting that get to yer 'ead mate. There be lot's of blokes that could still kick yer teeth in, an I'm being one of 'em."

Trying to contain his boiling rage, Thunderbird turns to face the resident pyromaniac known as Pyro. "Any time you want matchstick. I'll burn you to ashes and scatter you in the Ganges."

Pyro grins, always glad to get a rise out of his teammates. Flames billow out of his twin flamethrowers, forming a giant nail and hammer. "Just show me the coffin, and we'll go about nailin' ya in!"

"That's enough out of both of you," Legion intervenes. "Pyro, put those flames away and get back to the monitors."

Snuffing out his flames like they never were, Pyro smiles and bows. "Whatever you say, your majesty." Giving Thunderbird a look that could melt steel, he turns and walks towards the monitor building. Relieved, Legion turns back to Thunderbird.

"Don't let him get to you. He's been picking fights ever since the Toad killed Avalanche. He'll be easier to tolerate once he barbecues that guy, you can be sure. You go down to the training room and practice some of those manoeuvres I showed you, okay?"

Thunderbird nods, still fuming at Pyro's words. Transforming his body to the superhot plasma energy of the sun, he streaks through the air, heading towards the entrance to the underground training centre.

Legion sighs, running his hand through his tall hair. He's tried his best to be a good leader these past few months, but without Rogue and Havok, it hasn't been easy. 'Sometimes I think I'm too young for this.'

Elsewhere in the Australian base of the X-Men's Red Team...

"It's like I've told Bishop, he's barely old enough to be on the team, much less lead it into battle against the Prelates!"

"Fraulin, is that really the way you should be addressing your father?" Kurt Wagner, known to his team-mates as Nightcrawler, jokes cautions his lifelong friend.

"You and I both know he's not my real father Kurt, though I'll be the first to admit that he is in my heart." Storm brushes her short hair out of her eyes and considers her furry friend. "I've just been under so much pressure lately. Most of the other X-Men have scattered , leaving us more vulnerable to attack. Add to that the aggravation of teaching a boy how to properly lead soldiers into battle, and I'm surprised I haven't snapped yet."

"For what it's worth Storm, I agree with you. With Gateway, we didn't need to split like we did. Onslaught will just see small pockets of resistance and pick us off like flies. As for Legion, while I'll be the first to admit that his powers and potential are extraordinary, he's just not ready for the responsibility. I'm guessing that Bishop knows that to, which is why he made you second in command. On the field, fraulin, nobody's better than you, and the experience David gains with your help will prove invaluable."

"An astute observation, Nightcrawler. I'm surprised you haven't made an attempt at leadership yourself." The Mistress of the Storm and the Swashbuckling Demon turn-about startled that they were being spied upon. Bishop, founder of the X-Men, had snuck up on them!

Blushing in embarrassment, Storm stammers for an explanation. "Father, far be it from me to question your judgement, but --"

"You think it's a mistake to appoint a twenty-year old hot-headed powerhouse leader of the X-Men? Dear Ororo, I'd be more upset if you didn't question my decision. Leaders may give orders, but it is the soldier that risks his life on those orders. If I wanted soldiers that followed orders without question, I would have joined Onslaught long ago." Bishop places his hand on his surrogate daughter's soldier. "You must understand, Windrider, that the choices I've make are for the good of this team. While you are a master tactician on the field of battle, you are still just a soldier at heart. Legion may be untried, but the potential is there, and I'm counting on you to help me temper that potential into a true weapon against Onslaught."

Now feeling ashamed for her earlier doubts, Storm nods her acquiescence. "I shall help Legion when necessary father. Though like you, I shall stay my distance at times, so that he shall grow on his own when he must."

"I knew you would." Bishop answers, turning to face Nightcrawler. "Kurt, I need for you to gather the others into the War Room. Recent events have taken place that demand the attention of the X-Men!"

Kurt doesn't bother to acknowledge the order. The crackle in the air and the smell of sulphur is all that Bishop needs to know that his trusted lieutenant is on the job. His hand still on Ororo's shoulder, Bishop motions her to walk with him down the hall. "Walk me Storm. There are preparations to be made before I address the team."

(read about the other factions of Bishop's followers in X-Men Unlimited, Extraordinary X-Men, X-Man, X-Posse, Gen-X and Brand X - Benn)

About ten minutes later, in the War Room beneath the Australian base...

Few chairs circle the large table in the centre. Bishop prefers his soldiers to stand for their debriefing. Pyro sits in one of them, his feet propped up and flames dancing around his head. He flashes an arrogant grin at Thunderbird, who just glares from across the room. On the wall opposite them, near the ceiling where the shadows are greatest, Nightcrawler rests and watches. Legion and Karma stand near the head of the table, quietly discussing Legion's potential for telepathy. While near the doorway, Colossus stands as the ever-vigilant knight beneath his solid metal frame, awaiting the arrival of their mentor and the goddess.

Yet the steel sentry's purpose was unfounded, when Bishop appeared in the War Room via Gateway. With him was Storm and, as always, the ever protective Exodus. Silently sitting cross-legged on the table, Gateway waits, something he has never done before. Everybody present knows that whatever they were called for, it is big.

Standing before the assembled X-Men, his daughter and bodyguard at his side, Bishop addresses his team. "As you are all aware, Onslaught has begun to make his move on the world, most likely as a result of our recent break." Everybody nods solemnly. "We suspect he is somehow involved with the Sentinel supreme intelligence entity known as Master Mould, and has recently managed to capture Iceman, no doubt to be used as bait against Scott."

Legion speaks up. "Are we going to be helping them?"

"No David. Whatever plans Onslaught has in that regard will be for others to face. No, our mission may very well turn the tide against Onslaught once and for all." Turning to the massive wall behind him, Bishop presses a certain spot on it. Immediately the wall illuminates to reveal a detailed map of the world. Rubbing his finger over the spot, Bishop adjusts the map to show the American Midwest.

"Not less than six hours ago, Onslaught's Prelates succeeded in breaching the defences of Phoenix." Everybody gasps. They knew from experience how fortified that city was. "Every man, woman, and child was crucified as a warning to all that oppose Onslaught. Despite all appearance, however, I believe Onslaught's motives weren't as clear-cut as that."

Again the map shifts, this time showing a chain of island in the South Pacific. "Shortly after the Phoenix massacre, I detected Vanisher's energy signature. Vanisher had teleported himself and three others directly from Phoenix to Singapore. Unlike Phoenix, Singapore is not surrounded by hostile forces, so I doubt we can expect another massacre. However, we had long suspected that Phoenix hid something valuable, and whatever it was leads Onslaught to Singapore."

Bishop turns to face his X-Men. "Onslaught risked a lot in attacking Phoenix, and he's risking even more by attacking Singapore. He knows he'll draw the attention of the Human High Council, the Right, and us. Whatever it is that he's after, it's something he wants very badly."

"So of course we're going to find out what he's after and snatch it first, is that right?" Pyro remarks, creating a fiery image of a two hands and a diamond with his flame. One hand reaches towards the diamond, but the second snatches it away at the last second.

"Not exactly Pyro," Storm states. "For the moment we're simply going to watch and wait. Once we find out the exact nature of what Onslaught's after, we'll decide on a course of action. If they manage to find their objective before then, however," Storms eyes seem to glow; tiny sparks shooting from her white, pupil less eyes. "We attack then and there, taking a captive to interrogate if possible."

"My sentiments exactly Storm," Bishop states fondly to his daughter. "Gateway will get you into the city. Once there, find out what you can. Exodus will monitor your activities, but I can't promise immediate assistance. Our ranks have simply been spread too thin."

Bishop nods to Gateway. The mute aborigine twirls his bullroarer round and round, until a shimmering portal becomes visible. One by one, the X-Men go through.

Nightcrawler leaps through first, sword at the ready.

Next is Colossus, unwilling to let his friends face any potential danger without his steel to assist them.

Storm glides in, supported by the raging winds that are hers to command.

Pyro and Thunderbird enter on either side of Karma, unknowingly protecting her.

And finally, Legion, still plagued with self doubts that have only been amplified by Storm's confidence.

The portal shimmers, and Bishop hangs his head in what can only be considered regret. Exodus can just barely hear what his friend mutters under his breath.

"May Xavier watch over you all."

(see Extraordinary X-Men and X-Man - Benn)

Epilogue:

In the past ten years, Singapore has risen from a lawless city of thieves and killers to a lawless haven of thieves and killers. Despite the many attempts of the Human High Council and the Right to rid themselves of this cesspool of humanity's worst, the island city still stands tall with it's shadow of hate and lies.

Eventually the Human High Council and the Right gave up, choosing to focus instead on the greater threat of Onslaught. While many agree with the decision, deep within themselves they know it was the wrong one. Even the leaders of enforcement have questioned their decision, wondering why they would go against every fibre of their being.

The answer to that very question has remained hidden for twenty years. It is hidden no more.

Within a shadowy and hidden alcove far beneath a number of abandoned warehouses, a shrine of sorts has been erected. Today, seven figures encircle the shrine, awaiting the orders of their master.

{Phoenix, has been destroyed. I am pleased.}

The seven inhabitants brighten, pleased that their master is pleased. One is particularly gladdened, for it was his efforts that made the attack a true success.

{The Prelates come, and the X-Men will follow. The one I have sought now comes to me. Do with the others what you wish, so long as Legion lives to be my pawn.}

Leaving the trance, the seven individuals smile to each other. The master has spoken. Soon they'll have some friends to play with and kill, and even collect a new pawn for the master.

The master loves to have pawns for his games.