********************************************************************** DISCLAIMER 1) This material is not used for monetary profit in any manner. It is done solely for enjoyment purposes, and as homage to the great stories and characters of Marvel Comics Group 2) All the characters, events, and locations portrayed within are recognized as property of Marvel Comics Group should they so wish. 3) This story has been written by Samy Merchi . Any commentary in the form of compliments or critique is welcomed, and eagerly hoped for. So go ahead and drop me a line telling me what you thought, okay? It'll make my day. ;) 4) This story is being archived at least at my fanfic page at . Previous parts can be found there if needed. ********************************************************************** ********************************************* * TALES OF THE FALLEN ANGELS #1 of 4: MAGMA * * ----------------------------------------- * * You Used To Be A Grappler * * * ********************************************* *** "You used to be tough, you used to be a Grappler, to be Screaming Mimi." "You used to be a Grappler..." -- caption about Songbird, THUNDERBOLTS #12 *** * STARRING * AMARA JULIANA OLIVIANS 'Magma' AQUILLA * PREVIOUSLY IN THE LIFE OF AMARA AQUILLA * After leaving the New Mutants and a brief tenure as a Hellion, Amara Aquilla was recalled back to her native Nova Roma, a remnant Roman-Incan colony in the Andes. Her fellow Hellion Manuel de la Rocha came along out of Emma Frost's order, to secure the Hellfire Club's access to the mineral wealth of the Nova Roma region by appealing to the various political powers of the city. < NEW MUTANTS #62 > Amara and Manuel spent some time in Nova Roma, until a visit from the New Warriors, during which Manuel revealed that Nova Roma was a sham, that the people of Nova Roma had been kidnapped all over the world and brainwashed by Selene to believe they were descendants of Romans and Incas. < NEW WARRIORS #31 > The Nova Romani people abandoned Nova Roma and took up living at a resettlement camp down in the jungle, where the archaeologist Nina Da Costa tried to teach them the ways of the outside world. Manuel and Amara got caught up in the Younghunt, and got involved with X-Force and the New Warriors to end the threat of the Gamesmaster and the Upstarts. < CHILD'S PLAY: X-FORCE #32-33, NEW WARRIORS #45-46 > After the threat was over with, Amara dumped Manuel for not having told her sooner that she was 'Allison Crestmere', and decided to begin a search of her 'real' identity, while Manuel left as well to parts unknown. < X-FORCE #34 > Since then, Amara has assumed the name of Allison Crestmere, and her efforts to find any kind of history to that name have been fruitless. Desperate, confused, not knowing what to believe or who she is, she has fallen very, very low in her life... *** The beat of the music is infectious. The lights flash in a stroboscopic effect, making it seem as everything and everyone are moving jerkily, in a series of pictures following each other rather than a smoothly flowing movie. The volume is cranked all the way up, so much so it's surprising people don't have blood coming out of their ears. The Jolly Roger club has been operational for three years now, in the heart of London's SoHo. It used to be a very famous and popular wax cabinet before it got wrecked in a superhuman battle between Captain Britain and some random villain of the day. After it had gotten wrecked, the owner decided to just give up, and sold the place to a person called Nigel Frobisher, who had commissioned an individual named Julius King to turn the place into a successful club. King had proceeded to do just this, by naming the place the 'Jolly Roger', getting music and dancers, and making the estabilishment into a club which rapidly became one of SoHo's most popular ones. Today, the Jolly Roger is practically full every night, patrons both male and female -- but mostly the former -- coming over to see the attractions they had come to like. One of the latest additions to the list of Jolly Roger's attractions was yet another gorgeous blonde, who was stealing the proverbial show tonight. As the music played on, she swayed on the platform in the middle of the club, her golden bikini glittering in the flashes of light which made her movements seem even jerkier than they already were. She slowly bent at the knees, lowering herself downwards, her left hand at the end of a muscled arm sliding smoothly downwards on the chromed pole going from the floor of the platform up to the ceiling, as she descended, her hips swaying in suggestive motions until she reached all the way down, her behind brushing against the floor of the platform briefly. She leaned forward, bringing her cheek next to the pole, and then she parted her lips in a coy smile, before flicking her tongue out, and tentatively sliding it against the pole, as if tasting the metal, teasing it. Several intimate-looking licks, and then she started slowly rising again, this time with several bills going from ten-pound bills upwards, slipped under the straps of her bikini bottom by grabby hands she closed her mind from noticing. She rose up again, her cheek and occasionally her tongue brushing against the pole as she almost climbed up it, her body snuggling intimately close to it, like to a familiar lover. As she was standing straight again, she took her scantily-covered and quite impressive breasts in her hands, and then squeezed them around the pole, moving up and down a bit and sliding the pole between her breasts, while her tongue licked her lips provocatively. She pulled back from the pole then, still moving to the rhythm of the music, and her hands went behind her back. Her fingertips easily found the knot of her bikini, and started tugging on the strings. Her eyes closed, and she forced back a small sob, just shutting down her mind, not thinking about anything...anything but dancing. "You used to be tough, you used to be a New Mutant, to be Magma." "You used to be a New Mutant..." *** FIVE MINUTES LATER *** "Nice show, Volcano." The blonde didn't reply, her eyes downcast as she walked in to the back room from the stage, her expression blank, emotionless, burned out, completely lost any will to live as she mutely handed over the money the men had slipped under her bikini straps, to the man. She had long ago learned not to resist anything anymore, and just quietly grabbed a robe from the hook on the wall, and wrapped it around her to cover her nude form as the man started counting the money. The man counted the money silently, not seeming to mind Volcano's silence in the least, and after being satisfied, stuffed the money in his pocket, and then looked over to the blonde. "Customer", he simply said. "Room 402. Looks rich. Treat him well, you hear? I want him to want to come back. If he doesn't -- your fault." "Understood", Volcano replied in a toneless voice, and simply headed out of the back room via a door, heading to the dressing room where she could slip into some revealing black lace before getting back to the work that had already destroyed any remnants of a soul she might still have possessed... *** SEVERAL HOURS TOWARDS THE SUNRISE *** "Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare..." Volcano walked silently onwards, the words ringing in her ears and striking a chord in a soul she long thought dead. At least some people still had gods to believe in. A past to believe in. She believed in neither anymore. She didn't hear her footsteps crunch onto the gravel underneath as she walked thru the park silently, following the path she always took, every night and every morning, going from her apartment to work after the sun had set, and back just before sunrise. Her eyes lingered for a few moments on the robed man, chanting the religious mantra, before a tree hid him from her view as she walked on, and she turned her eyes ahead again. Silently, they drifted down to the gravelly path at her feet, as thoughts raced thru her head. (( How can they be so certain of things? Do they know their soul? Am I the only person in the world who has no idea what anything is, who I am, what to believe in? )) Lost in contemplation, she hardly noticed that she was heading towards a statuesque, raven-haired woman standing in the middle of the path, her back turned towards Volcano, looking the other way, and not seeming to notice her coming. Not until it was too late. "Oh!" Volcano gasped as she bumped into the dark-haired woman, and took a few quick steps back. "My apologies. I was not looking where I was going", she said in a zombie-like tone, her thoughts far, far away from the situation, her concentrating flying somewhere else, her hopes and dreams soaring high, having left her body behind and entered the realm of imagination. "Quite all right", the dark-haired woman smiled warmly to Volcano. "I could have paid a little more attention myself." Her words came out surely, yet softly, affectionately, and with a Mediterranean accent that reminded Volcano of a trip to Kyrinos she had once taken. Volcano nodded once, and then started to continue on her way silently, exchanging no more words and just deciding to resume her walk back home to her apartment. "Would you mind terribly if I walked with you?" the dark-haired woman asked Volcano, taking a few steps along with her. "It's dark, and this park isn't the safest place in London -- us girls should stick together, right?" The tone was cheerful, happy, but not overly so -- not bimbo-esque. Eyeing the other woman for a few moments, Volcano then nodded once. "You are free to accompany me, if you wish", she replied in the same flat tone she constantly used. "My apartment is right on the other side of the park, though -- you will have my escort only until there." "Oh, I don't mind", the other woman replied. "Otherwise, I'd have had to go *all* the way alone, anyway, right? This way, I'm safe at least *part* of the way. By the way, my name's Minnie, what's yours?" she asked, offering a hand. Volcano looked at the hand a few moments as the two women walked along the gravelly path, passing a fountain on their left. "I am" (( Amara? Allison? Magma? Volcano? )) "Allison", she said, casting her eyes downwards as she took the hand, shaking it briefly, before looking forward again, letting go of the hand. "Allison?" Minnie asked, as she let her eyes linger for a few moments on a copse of trees up ahead to the right of the path, with a thoughtful expression, before looking back to Allison, taking a long look over her. "You don't *look* like an Allison", she smiled. (( I know. )) "I...don't?" Allison simply asked, some small emotion -- confusion? -- starting to show up on her face. She was befuddled enough internally, it didn't take much to get the same effect externally. "No", Minnie smiled, and shrugged. "I don't know -- you look like... I don't know? Maria? Julia? Olivia? Something like that? *Definitely* not an Allison." Allison blinked slightly. She had once thought herself to be Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla. There was no way those three names Minnie said could be a coincidence? Could they? Maybe they could? She didn't know. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. There was hesitation in her eyes, almost a little trepidation. Could it be a coincidence? And if not, what did it mean? "I..." She hesitated, and forced on a little smile, despite being a bit on guard. "If it consoles you at all, I did not choose the name myself." "Why don't you, then?" Minnie simply asked. "Why don't I what?" Allison asked, confused. "Choose your name?" "What do you mean?" "Well", Minnie shrugged, "you *can* change your name, you know. You think Cher was born Cher?" Allison hesitated. "This name is a link to my past", she then replied, uncertainty lacing her tone. "Wouldn't you rather it be a link to your present?" "I..." Allison bit her lip, frowning a bit. "I don't know..." She shook her head, and sighed. "I don't exactly know what my present is." "Do you know what your past is?" Allison blinked again, looking at Minnie silently. "I..." Again, she paused, then shook her head resignedly. "No...not really", she admitted. "Then if --" Minnie started, but was suddenly interrupted. "Hold it right there!" came a rough voice, as a half-dozen youths, brandishing knives and rattling chains, stepped out of the copse of woods Allison and Minnie were passing. Allison's eyes narrowed, and she stepped in front of Minnie. "Stay behind me", she whispered to the other woman, and then, raised her chin proudly, for the first time in months true fire flickering behind her eyes. "What do you want?" she called out, with a voice not uncertain, not hesitant -- strong. Sure. "Both of you, first", one of the youths, apparently the leader, smirked. "Then, your money." "Over my dead body, bandit", Amara snarled, her hands clenching into fists, as she took a step towards the men, her muscles tensing. "Come, you curs, if you *dare*!" A couple of the hoods hesitated slightly at Amara's surety, her fire, but the majority started advancing on her. "Have it your way", one of them smiled. K-CHING! The foremost hood suddenly swung his chain towards Amara after rattling it for a few moments, and the interconnected metal links whizzed thru the air towards her head. THAP! Amara's left hand caught the chain as it lashed out at her, and a fraction of a second later, she yanked on it, causing the chain-wielding man to stumble towards her. CRACK! The heel of her palm shot up, cracking onto the man's chin, sending a little spray of blood from his mouth, as he was knocked backwards, crashing flat on his back on the ground, unconscious. Next, with a sharp motion showing that her reflexes were as sharp as ever, she dodged a knife aimed at her midsection, and instead her right hand grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the attacking knife, and with a small smile, used the knife's forward momentum, turning it against another hood approaching from behind her. "UGK!" the hood behind Amara went, as the knife plunged into his gut. "AARR!" he screamed as she, still holding the wrist, twisted the knife inside the man, before pulling it out with a slice cutting the wound even more open. The man toppled to the ground, clutching his stomach, and quickly lost consciousness, a puddle of blood forming underneath him as he lay on the ground. Amara didn't give the other man enough time to get his wrist from Amara's hold. Instead, she smashed her left elbow quickly, and strongly, into his face, blood flying from the nose as a sharp CRACK! was heard when it broke. This man, as well, dropped to the ground, unconscious. Meanwhile, the two men who had been hesitant at first, had vanished, ran away. Three had been taken down by Amara in twice as many seconds. Of the half-dozen, only the leader was left, standing hesitantly a dozen feet or so in front of Amara, pointing a gun at her. "S-- Stay back! I'll shoot!" "Please", Amara smirked, and then, with a flash of light, flamed up, her body turning into her swirling yellow-orange-red Magma form. She cracked her knuckles, with an amused expression on her fiery face. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The shots rang out in the darkness of the park, and hit Amara's molten-stone form, melting against her like so much useless slag. "Minerva! Vulcan!" Amara cried out, tossing her arms skywards, calling upon higher powers. "Lend me the strength to strike down this rabid dog and show him what it means to trifle with the daughter of the first senator of Nova Roma!!" As if answering Amara's call, the ground exploded between her and the man, infernal fire spouting heavenwards with the ferocity of the young woman calling them forth. "UNGH!" The shrapnel blasted outwards, stone, wood, earth, everything flying outwards from the explosion, hitting the man, knocking him out together with the shockwave and the heat exploding outwards. He was out like a light, and slumped down to the ground. Amara was unbothered by it all. The shrapnel melted before hitting her, the heat hardly a concern to her and as for the shockwave -- well, she *did* create the explosion. She knew how to direct it so she wouldn't suffer from the shockwave. She *had* been a New Mutant. She *had* trained how to control her powers. "There", she mused, and then stood there silently for a few moments, before the adrenaline faded from her veins, and her eyes widened. "Minnie --??" she asked, whirling around, her eyes searching for the woman, afraid that she had scared her away by revealing she was a mutant. Indeed, the dark-haired woman was gone, and Amara sighed slightly, her shoulders slumping a bit. Would the hatred, the fear never end? Had all of Xavier's work been for nothing? Would that road never yield any results? She powered down, and then suddenly blinked, as she realized she didn't have any clothes. "By Pluto!" she snarled, and slapped her forehead with her palm, as she realized she didn't have any UMF clothing [1] anymore, other than the New Mutant uniform and her graduation costume, both of which she still had, but they were at her apartment. And regular clothing was practically vaporized when she powered up, as had happened to her now. As had happened to her when her powers had first manifested home in Nova Roma... The thoughts of Nova Roma widened her eyes a bit further, as she realized she had called upon the gods she hadn't called upon in over a year. Ever since having learned that Amara Aquilla was a fabricated identity, and that 'Allison Crestmere' were her supposed true identity, she had ceased to actively practice her faith in the Roman deities. Her Roman upbringing, however, was deep ingrained within her, and as such, nudity didn't bother her like it would a 20th century Westerner. But she also thought she was 'Allison Crestmere', and she believed she was *supposed* to feel bothered by standing there nude. And it bothered her that she *wasn't* bothered. Nonetheless, she tugged a trenchcoat off one of the unconscious thugs, and put it on, tying it closed around her waist. Whether she did it because of modesty she thought she should have...or because she was too intelligent not to realize that a woman with her...attributes would cause quite a bit of attention walking nude in the streets -- even she didn't know herself. After putting on the trenchcoat, she sighed, and looked once more around the park for any sight of Minnie, then looked down quietly, the hurt in her soul coming back to the surface, feeling a slight amount of betrayal as the first person who showed her any kindness in several weeks deserted her because she was a mutant. She resumed her walk thru the park, heading to her apartment, as the sun started peeking out in the horizon. [1] UMF is an acronym for Unstable Molecule Fabric, cloth that adapts to any superhuman powers or attributes the wearer might have and not be damaged by them. In this case, UMF clothing worn by Amara would not have burned when she powered up. *** HALF AN HOUR LATER *** She cursed as she reached the door of her apartment, and hit the wall beside the locked door. She hadn't realized until now that when she had powered up, she had also melted her apartment keys without ever even noticing it. Curse it all! She sighed, and looked up and down the hallway, to see if anyone was nearby, before she let her impetuous nature take over once more. She powered up, carefully controlling her flame so as to not set ablaze the floor underneath her, and then, she sharply slammed her molten-stone palm against her door. In her flame-form, energized as she was by Mother Earth's energies, she could easily punch thru stone, which she in fact had done when Selene had imprisoned her in a cocoon of rock when she and Rachel had infiltrated the Hellfire Club shortly after Amara's first arriving in the United States, to assassinate the sorceress. The door slammed open, the lock breaking with a snap, and she stepped inside, and powered down with a sigh of relief, and closed the door after checking that she hadn't set anything afire. She walked over to her wardrobe, far emptier than many women's, since she kept her work clothes at work, and didn't bring them home. There were her two superhero costumes, a couple of pairs of shoes, a couple of pairs of jeans, some underwear -- standard, plain cotton. Her life was far too muddled right now to even consider having time to seduce anyone with some frilly black lace. A dozen or so different t-shirts -- she never wore heavy clothing. She didn't have to. With Mother Earth always warming her, even when she wasn't powered up, she could stand naked in Antarctica and not feel cold. When she had went to shop for clothes, after settling in London, she hadn't even known what kind of clothes to buy. Try to find togas, robes and sandals, like Amara used to wear? Or standard clothing, something that 'Allison Crestmere' might wear? In the end, she had decided on just plain jeans and t-shirts. She took out her yellow-orange-red graduation costume. When she was at home, she liked wearing one of her two costumes. They were comfortable. One of UMF's advantages was that it fit perfectly. Not that she had much problems with fitting recently -- she had lost almost ten pounds in the last few months. She just didn't feel like eating very often. She got out of her small walk-in closet, and into the rest of the apartment -- a small cubicle which served as a bedroom, a living room, and, occasionally, a kitchen. She laid her costume out on the bed, and then headed over to the bathroom. She started the water running, making sure to turn the heat up all the way. It wasn't as if she could get scalded. Then, she went in front of the mirror, and looked at herself. Blonde. Wavy hair, going easily down onto her shoulders. Just the right amount of 'bounce' in her hair, even though she didn't use any mousse or hairspray. Her eyes were black. She hadn't used any makeup either, when she had been with the New Mutants, but here? The manager had ordered her to put on makeup. 'Some black eyeliner looks really sinful', he had said. Amara hadn't cared then, anymore. She just did as she was told. How can you have any pride left, if you don't know if you were brought up by the first senator of Nova Roma, or by some street hoboes of Liverpool. She could have been raised by anyone. She didn't know. She didn't know her past. How can she know who she is, if she doesn't know her past? And how can she have pride to injure, if she doesn't know who she is? She can't. She suddenly noticed she was crying, causing the mascara to run. She wiped her eyes dry with her hands, and smeared her fingers with slight amounts of black as well. A sob ran thru her shoulders with a small shudder, but then she shook her head, and decided to calm down. Calm down, she told herself, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten. Then, she opened her eyes again, and tried to remain stoic as she inspected the rest of her nude body. She was still muscled. She had always been muscled, sleek, strong, graceful, like a jungle cat. She had grown up with the Amazons. Then, she had joined the New Mutants. Then, the Hellions. She took a deep breath. And then she had returned home, to an arranged marriage. Perhaps fortunately, Manuel had taken control of Nova Roma with his empathic powers, and the city had kept on going like he had wanted to. And he hadn't wanted Amara to get married. She sighed a bit. Maybe he had thought he loved her? Maybe he actually did? It didn't matter very much to Amara. She wasn't a big believer in the concept of romantic love. It wasn't a very big deal in Roman culture. She had wanted to remain in the outside world more because of her desire to learn more. She had always been very intelligent, and had learned to use computers within a matter of weeks. Xavier had compared her intellect to Kitty Pryde's genius-level intellect. She had *not* wanted to remain in the outside world because she didn't want to get married to a man she didn't love. She wouldn't have minded marrying the man her father -- Lucius Antonius Aquilla -- had picked out for her, had he allowed her to remain in the outside world. Nonetheless, during her time back in Nova Roma, she had continued her training exercises, though not as often as she had as a New Mutant or a Hellion. She had kept up her physical fitness. And that came in handy when she had tried to look for a job -- which was by no means easy, when she hadn't had *any* kind of official ID. There was no 'Allison Crestmere' in the world. One might wonder how the proud daughter of the first senator of Nova Roma could end up a stripper and a prostitute? When you can't get a job legally -- you have to do it illegally. And Julius King -- the manager of the Jolly Roger, whose name Amara had so liked -- hadn't minded ignoring a few laws. Perhaps she could have found a better job somehow. Perhaps. But she wasn't exactly experienced at job-hunting. She had never even looked at the 'jobs wanted' ads in the papers when she had been a New Mutant. She had never thought she might have to do something as menial as actually *work* one day. But she did end up having to work. Her eyes moved a bit lower, to her breasts, and she almost smiled slightly. They had helped her get the job quite a bit. She knew that. And she wasn't ashamed of the fact that her breasts were quite sizeable. The only New Mutant -- or for that matter, X-Man -- who could have even given her a proper competition, had been Illyana. She liked being desirable. She didn't have any moral qualms against having sex, which had made her becoming a prostitute so much easier. She disliked most of her partners, true, but she didn't let it show. It was a living, nothing more. And if she was going to do a job, she would do it well. That, however, didn't mean she wouldn't wash her partners' stench off her as soon as she got home. Every night, every single night, the first thing after getting home was taking a shower. To feel clean. To forget the night. To be able to wash away the memories and sleep. "You used to be tough, you used to be a New Mutant, to be Magma." "You used to be a New Mutant..." She stepped into the shower, and let the hot water run over her, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the feel of warmth running thru her, letting the water wash away everything that happened tonight, open her pores with its warmth and clean her skin completely, utterly. After almost half an hour of mindless pleasure underneath the water, soaping herself up, and scrubbing herself clean, she turned it to freezing cold, but didn't jump in the slightest. She could sense it was cold, her pores closed down under the assault of the frigid water, but it didn't chill her. After a few more minutes under the cold water, she turned the shower off, and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying herself off quickly, not wanting to do it by powering up and risking anything catching on fire. After drying herself, she stepped back into her cubicle, and quickly pulled on the costume she had laid onto the bed. Finally, she felt like a human being. She left the pink plexiglass visor on the bed, not needing to wear it in the peace of her own home, and sat down at the computer. She had spent most of her money on researching herself. She would be wealthier, and she would live in a better apartment, what with being such a smash hit at the Jolly Roger and bringing in more customers than anyone. But she didn't spend her money on a better apartment, or more clothes, or anything else. She spent it on getting a good computer, by hiring young hackers to break into databases for her, and in various other ways, trying to find out about 'Allison Crestmere'. The results so far? Zilch. There was a thunderclap outside. Amara frowned slightly. It was morning. The sky was clear. The sun was bright. There were no clouds. Where did that thunderclap come from? she asked herself as she glanced towards the window. "Not there, lass", came a rough, deep baritone voice. "Over here." Amara spun around like lightning, and in the process tipped over the chair she was sitting in, crashing to the floor, but she didn't lose a second, rolling into a quick crouch towards the intruders, pointing her right fist in their rough direction, preparing to launch a blast of lava in their direction before even seeing them. "Is that any manner of way to greet an old friend, Lady Amara?" spoke the tall, heavily-built truck of a man, a good-natured smile on his lips as his left hand absently stroked his thick, brown beard. Amara's eyes went wide. "HERCULES???" she gaped in astonishment, not even yet realizing there was a woman standing beside the Lion of Olympus. "Aye, lass", Hercules smiled broadly. "Truly, I am honored you remember me, fair Amara. But prithee, let me introduce you to this lovely companion of mine --" If possible, Amara's eyes went even wider as her genius-level intellect put things together suddenly, as she turned her eyes to the dark-haired woman, looking exactly like Minnie, wearing Roman-style armor, and with a full-looking sack on the floor beside her. "MINERVA???" She almost fainted there and then, feeling light-headed and dizzy, the edges of her vision starting to black out, but she didn't allow herself to faint. She didn't want to wake up to find them gone. So she just stared, wide-eyes. "Shh, Lady Amara", Minerva smiled gently. "There is no need for shouting, you are amongst friends." "Indeed, 'tis with the best of intentions that we have appeared at your domicile unbidden, Lady Amara", Hercules stated. "And it is for that reason that I hope you will forgive us this trespass." Amara took a deep breath, and then, after the initial awe passed, she stood up, a slightly blank look on her face. "There is nothing to forgive, Hercules", she simply said. "You are my..." (( lord )) "...friend. You paid me a little surprise visit and brought a friend along. That is nothing that does not happen every now and then to us mortals", she said in a thin, light tone, saying it, but deep down, far from believing her words. Hercules glanced silently over to Minerva, who was watching the blonde woman with slightly narrowed eyes, a thoughtful gaze, but no emotion, positive or negative, on her face. His eyes slowly returned to Amara, who was walking over to the kitchen counter. "Coffee, Hercules?" Amara smiled with dry humor on her face, and then looked over to the woman. "Minerva?" "No, thank you", Minerva replied. Hercules shook his head in refusal, and then parted his lips, but was interrupted before he could speak. "So, what are you here for?" Amara asked, as she measured an amount of coffee into the machine, as if not even having acknowledged the two Olympians' answers, working on autopilot. "Let me guess -- I'm having another 'crisis of faith', and you need all the followers you can get, so you thought you'd come over and help me back on the 'true path'?" she asked, sarcasm lacing her tone. Minerva's eyes narrowed a bit further as she kept regarding Amara silently, but remained expressionless and quiet. Watching. "Lass --" Hercules started. "Some of the gods of Olympus may indeed be a self-centered lot, but I assure you, I and Minerva are here for your benefit." "Really", Amara said in a freezing tone, glaring at Hercules. "And I suppose you've seen how aimless my life is, and how I have no clue about anything, whether anything in my life is, or has been, real. So you decide, let's go pay a visit to Allison, let's tell her she *is* Amara Aquilla", she went on, slight tears starting to glisten in her eyes. "Let's tell her she's Amara Aquilla", she sniffled weakly, rubbing her eyes a bit, "and then she can have control of her life again. And we can have one more worshipper after we help her get her life back together." She paused, and closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry, it doesn't work that way", she whispered, and then her eyes opened. "I don't know who to believe anymore. Amara Aquilla would have believed you in an instant, Hercules. She would have fallen down before you and kissed your feet for showing her the light again. And by the flames of Tartarus, am I tempted to do just that! But I can't! I may never have been Amara Aquilla! I would be giving in to the deceptions, going back to the safe dreamworld, living a lie. I might be happy, outwardly, but I will never be truly happy unless I know the *truth*! So if you're here to tell me the truth, SPIT IT OUT! If not..." She swallowed, and sniffled, then motioned for the door. "Please leave." "Lady Amara", Minerva finally spoke, in a calm, quiet tone, an almost-whisper that nonetheless reached Amara's eyes clearly. "We are bound not to tell you the truth about your identity. There is more behind this than you have heretofore even surmised. I and Hercules are already risking Zeus' wrath by even speaking with you, but after I informed him of your state, he insisted we journey to you." She smiled lightly, and gave Hercules a brief glance. "Hercules is not an easy man to refuse", she said, before turning her eyes back to Amara. "We are bound not to reveal a thing about your past. However", she then said, and took a step towards Amara, and placed her palm onto her chest, over her heart, "we are not bound not to help you with your troubled soul. That is why we have journeyed here. We will not give you the truth. That remains for you to discover. But the answers do not lie in the outside world, my daughter. The answers lie within your own heart of hearts. And it is only you who can unearth them, and find out who you are. Unlike Manuel de la Rocha, we will not tell you a tale which you may then decide to be true or untrue. The only tale worth listening to, is that of your own soul, Lady Amara. Whether it speaks the same words as Manuel de la Rocha, or whether it speaks the same words you believe you learned as a child in Nova Roma when studying the chronicles, or whether it speaks something different entirely, is not ours to say. It is yours, and only yours, to say what is the truth. You will find the answers in the essence of your being, not told by someone else." Amara listened silently to the words of the Goddess of Warfare, and, more importantly for the moment, Wisdom. She hesitated a bit, felt a quiver inside her soul, and bit her lip. "Minerva speaks true, Lady Amara", Hercules stated firmly. "We can not give you the answers, but you can." Then, he just stood there, silent and firm as a rock. Bowing her head in silence, looking at the floor, Amara closed her eyes. (( My MIND -- BURNING -- so many memories -- PAIN! Inside... TEARING ME APART! )) Several moments passed, as the young woman gradually forced away all the mental blocks she had herself erected. She forced away all the lies, all the hesitation, and opened herself up to the truth springing up from within. She knew who she was. She had been denying it too long. No longer. Like the fire of her mutant powers could melt that which had been frozen, forcing away cold, numb inactivity, replacing it with warm life; so could the fire in her soul, the truth, melt away the lies which had frozen her soul in place, leaving it cold and numb. And she was reborn, like a fiery, beautiful eagle rising from the cold ashes of her near-death. "I KNOW WHO I AM!" Amara cried out, as the fire of her soul erupted outwards, her mutant powers flaring up, glowing bright as a star for a brief moment, causing the two Olympians to shield their eyes. "HEAR ME, HERCULES!" she proclaimed, turning towards the Olympian. "ONCE MORE AM I THE GIRL YOU KNEW! I AM FIRE! AND EARTH INCARNATE! NOW AND FOREVER -- I AM *MAGMA*!" she shouted, and then, took a deep breath, filling her lungs with intoxicating air, as she said the next words, an electric thrill running thru her. "I am Lady Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla. I am the daughter of the first senator of Nova Roma, Lucius Antonius Aquilla." Then, she calmed down, her eyes narrowing sharply, "And I will have vengeance on Manuel de la Rocha for ever deluding me otherwise." The two Olympians simply looked at her in silence, allowing her to revel in her newfound self-knowledge. Both of them smiled slightly, as they watched a serene smile settle onto Amara's lips. Amara simply stood there. Despite the release, the ecstacy, she did make sure to keep rein of her powers, and not cause serious damage to the floor with her molten-stone feet. With a tremor of pleasure running thru her, she finally forced herself to calm down, and withdrew the fire into her, the flames fading, her magma form changing into her human form clad in her graduation costume. Then, she looked at the two Olympians. She could have asked, 'Aren't I?' or some other sort of confirmation, but she didn't have to. She didn't need confirmation. She knew it was true. She had been deceived. She simply fell to her knees, bowing her head in submission. "My lord", she said silently. "My lady. I beg forgiveness for my behavior and thank you for having shown me the way." "We showed you nothing, little eagle", Minerva smiled, as she stepped over to Amara, and placed her fingers to Amara's chin, lifting it up, so Amara looked up at her. "You showed yourself the path. And you can never lose it again, because you know that you can always find it by the same means -- looking into the depths of your own heart." "Thank you, my lady", Amara simply whispered in answer, remaining down on her knees before Minerva. "Lady Amara", Hercules smiled at the submissive position, and reached to take her hand into his, and tug her up into a standing position. Amara offered little resistance. "Your devotion is well known to me and Minerva both, without need to such overt gestures. As I have learned during my years beside the Avengers, and as you taught me when we last met ways, it often is us who dwell on Olympus who have much to learn from your kin, and much to respect you for, rather than the other way around. And since years ago my father stripped me of my immortality, I am no more a god than you are, fair Amara. Prithee, treat me rather as your friend than your lord." "If that is your wish, Hercules", Amara said softly. "Aye", Hercules smiled. "That it be." *** NEXT NIGHT *** She stood outside the Jolly Roger, and steeled herself. This would be the last time she ever stepped into this estabilishment. And she would not humiliate herself tonight, as every night before. This time, she stood outside the front door, instead of the back entrance. "Good eve, Frank", she simply nodded to the doorman, who opened the door for her as she stepped inside. Taking a look around, an expression of mild distaste crossed her face as her eyes went over the bar, the tables, the platforms other women much like her were dancing on... She couldn't do anything. As much as she wanted to just tear this place apart for what it had done to her, there were innocent people here...and even those who weren't innocent -- they needed the jobs, to *provide* for others -- their husbands, their children, their ill parents... She shook her head, and sighed, then headed across the club. Her pace was slow, but sure, as she waded thru the crowd. A few men gave her lewd glances. She ignored them. A man placed his hand onto her behind and squeezed. WHACK!!! Her fist cracked back like a furious whip, and smashed across the insolent man's face. He was flung back, unconscious before he even hit the floor. Amara simply wrinkled her nose in disgust. "No one touches the daughter of the first senator of Nova Roma without permission", she hissed, her voice audible over the suddden silence in the club. Then, she walked off, towards a door on the back wall of the club, and the crowd now parted silently before her. Most men kept their eyes to themselves. It would be a minute or so after she exited thru the door on the back wall, before the silence would end, the music would resume, and the people would start filling the club again with their voices. *** BEHIND THE DOOR *** "What the hell do you think you're DOING???" Julius King yelled at Amara. "You trying to scare away all the customers or what??" "Do not speak to me in that tone, little man", Amara said sharply as she stopped before the manager, and looked at him with an icy stare. "I am leaving. I require money for an airplane ticket to the United States of America, and you will give me that money." "WHAT??" Julius shouted. "You CRAZY? I'm not letting you go anywhere! You're my star attraction! No way, no how, you're not going, you're not leaving, not anywhere, and that's FINAL, you got that?" "I am leaving", Amara just replied, her eyes narrowed. "You're NOT leaving", King retorted. "You've got a customer to take care of, and you've got a show to put on tonight. You can't go anywhere if I don't give you the money. So you just play nice, and I'll forget all about this little scene." He started walking off, his hands clenched into fists. "I am leaving", Amara repeated herself, as she paced alongside the short man. "And you will give me the money. I am aware of your having paid me far less than what other women like me get. You will now give me money for the plane ticket, and I will ignore that." "Well, sister", King smirked. "There's nothing to be ignored. There's nothing legal about me having employed you, so unless you want to tell the cops just how you got paid everything under the counter, you just back off! Now get to work!" he snarled, and stepped thru a door. "I will not", Amara snapped back, and followed King thru the door. "You will --" she started, and then noticed the room was one of the 'work' rooms. And that there was a customer in it. Unfortunately, by the time Amara got over her surprise, King had already slipped back out the door. "Hope you like domination, pal", he grinned to the customer. "She's a fiery one, just like you asked." With that, he closed the door, and put a chair underneath the handle to prevent the door from being opened from the inside. With a self-pleased smirk, he started counting the twenty-pound bills the customer had paid him in advance, luxuriating in the feel of the money. *** IN THE ROOM *** "I am NOT sleeping with you", Amara snarled at the man, who was looking out the window, his back turned to Amara. "I don't expect you to, even though you have before", the man answered, and slowly turned around, to face Amara. Her eyes widened, as recognition came quickly to her, and her heart jumped. "YOU!" *** OUTSIDE THE ROOM *** Julius King whistled calmly as he walked off from the door he had barred, and into the performers' dressing room. "Evening, ladies. Everything going well? Any problems?" *** BACK IN THE ROOM *** "Yes", the man replied, his brown eyes watching Amara calmly, his expression nondescript, whatever emotions he felt, buried inside him for the moment. "Roberto Da Costa. I am glad you still recognize me, Amara. It has been a long time." Amara stumbled backwards a bit, feeling faint for a moment, the fact that an old friend of hers had found out just what she had been doing for a living for the past several months, causing a volcano of emotions to erupt inside her. Most importantly, shame. She caught herself by leaning back against the door that was blocked from the outside, just staring at Roberto for several moments. "I am here as a friend, Amara", he simply said. "I am here to help you. If you'll allow me to." "Roberto, I --" She swallowed, and then let out a shuddering breath, sinking to her knees weakly. "I -- Roberto, I...I wish you hadn't...hadn't..." She closed her eyes, and hid her face in her hands. "Amara", he said quietly, walking over to her, and then kneeling beside her, placing a hand onto her wrist and gently pulling her hand from over her face so he could look into her eyes. "I understand. And I can help. Will you let me?" "I --" She closed her eyes, and hesitated, then swallowed, and brushed a tear from her cheek, before standing up. "I am Lady Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla, the daughter of the first senator of Nova Roma. Your offer is most gracious, Roberto, but I do not need help." "That's your pride talking, Amara", Roberto replied, as he stood up as well, to face her. "We've known each other too long to lie to each other. We all need help, and must accept help, from time to time. Even I. Even you. Accept mine, Amara", he offered, holding his hand out to her. "Why now?" Amara asked, turning away, walking over to the window and looking outside with a sad expression. "What?" Roberto asked. "Why now?" She turned, to look at him across the room. "Why did you decide to seek me out now. Is it because *you* need help with something, yourself?" "As a matter of fact, yes", he nodded in reply. Amara smiled faintly. "Perhaps you were right", she commented. "We *have* known each other too long to lie to each other." She looked down, and stayed silent for several moments, before asking, "What is it you need me for?" "During my recent time with X-Force", Roberto started, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking towards Amara, "I have become convinced that they are far too reactive a team. As with you, when you were caught in the Younghunt, they teamed up with the New Warriors, and the remaining former Hellions and New Mutants, to bring down the Gamesmaster's plan --" "How do you know this, Roberto?" Amara quirked an eyebrow. "You were not there." "No, I wasn't", Roberto smiled, "but some of us do our homework. Contrary to what the various X-people may believe, there is such a thing as research, and finding out information without it having to attack you first. Which is part of my point. May I go on?" Amara nodded. "Now, after the Gamesmaster was defeated, there was still the problem of your identity. Are you Allison Crestmere, or Amara Aquilla. Did they offer to help you find out?" He shook his head. "No. As all X-teams, they are concerned only with that which is a direct threat to themselves. When they get attacked, they defend themselves. That is all. They pursue no agendas of their own other than surviving." Amara smiled slightly. "But you disagree with that approach", she simply said. Politics was not something she was alien to, and she read Roberto's approach like an open book. "You intend to start a faction of your own, that would not have these faults, and you wish me to join." She didn't ask. She stated. Roberto smiled as well. "That is correct." "I am sorry, Roberto", Amara replied. "I have agendas of my own. I will kill Manuel de la Rocha for having almost destroyed my life. I have only today learned that I never have been Allison Crestmere, but I am, and always have been, Amara Aquilla. He will pay for his deception to make me believe otherwise. It also remains for me to kill Selene for having slain my mother. During my time with the New Mutants and Xavier's School, I was not allowed this. Now, I am free to indulge my vengeance." Roberto stood up, and stepped over to Amara, taking her hand into his. "As I said, Amara -- I do not agree with the goals or the methods of the X-teams. With the resources of Da Costa International at my command, I am more than capable of helping you reach your own goals." He paused, and smiled faintly. "Help me fight my war, and I will help you fight yours." Amara fell silent, her hand not pulling away from Roberto's, as she looked into his eyes. *** FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER *** "YOU CAN'T *DO* THIS!!" Julius King cried out, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "I can do *anything*", Roberto Da Costa replied simply, a smirk dancing on his face. "I am Roberto Da Costa." He paused, and looked around the club as he leaned onto the bar counter, the infectious music thrilling thru his blood. "As of earlier today, I own this building. And as per my orders, it will be torn down next week, to make room for the new skyscraper for Da Costa International's London branch. All current employees, of course, will receive their paychecks double for the duration of the construction of the new building, as compensation for their inconveniences", he grinned, taking a sip from his brandy, "and will all be re-employed at Da Costa International according to their qualifications, from secretary level up, once the building is finished." "Except you", Amara smiled devilishly, sipping on a bright blue drink as she watched her former employer with a 'who's got the upper hand now, eh?' expression. "Except you", Roberto repeated with a smile. *** TWO HOURS LATER, OVER THE ATLANTIC *** Learjet 110-DC "Cannonball". Powered by two Panther Tech ramjets based on US X-15 projects, it had a ceiling of 320,000 feet, and a maximum speed of Mach 5.5, enabling it to cross the Atlantic in roughly an hour on a ballistic flight. Only two of these aircraft existed in the world. One of them belonged to the Wakandan warrior king, T'challa, who had supplied his best aeronautics engineers to design it. The other one was cutting thru the air like a turbofanned arrow, its graceful, swan-like form soaring among the frigid winds on a course from London to New York, while its well-insulated walls protected the passengers inside from the freezing temperatures. Though only half the people inside the plane would even be susceptible to freezing. The pilot and the co-pilot. "So, am I to take it I am the first?" Amara asked with a teasing smile as she sipped a drink thoughtfully. Having a bar on board the plane was -- extravagant. But then again, Roberto Da Costa was nothing if not extravagant. "Who else are you planning on?" "Mmm", Roberto mused, as he looked out a window silently for a moment while composing a reply. "My people have gathered me some interesting dossiers", he just stated at first, and went quiet again for several moments before continuing. "I do not wish to state any names before I am certain they will join...but suffice it to say, I doubt you have anything to worry about the niece and former employee of the crimelord General Nguyen Ngoc Coy criticizing your having been a prostitute..." Amara lifted an eyebrow. "Xi'an?" she asked curiously. "She has worked for General Coy?" A light, amused chuckle followed. "Well well well..." she grinned. "Quite a band of fallen angels you're gathering here..." Roberto smirked. "To quote the American colloquialism, 'you ain't seen nothing yet, baby'." *** JOIN us in #2, as we delve into the mystery of KARMA's siblings Leong and Nga, and their transformation into cyborgs at SPIRAL's hands! LEARN the identity of the doctor that Karma relinquished Leong and Nga to in hopes of letting them regain their youth! DISCOVER whether Xi'an is gay or not! PLUS, the SHOCKING-EST revelation of all, which will lead straight into #3!