Dark Side of the Moon, All Dark

October 27, 2016:

The Horsemen of the Apocalypse bring the fight to the Royal Inhumans, Attilan City is destroyed, help is found in an unlikely source (cameo rescue by Lady Sif) / (emits by Gambit) / Language, Comic Violence

The Moon, the Blue Side of it, Attilan City


NPCs: Apocalypse, Dark Riders, Inhumans

Mentions: Scarlet Witch, Gambit, Thor

Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It's All Dark…

The Moon
Northwestern Mare Serenitatis

This area is also known as the Blue Side of the Moon, a location of great importance as fifteen years ago the Inhumans fought a secret war against the Skrulls. The end result was the defense of the entire Earth from full scale invasion, an invasion not a soul knows about but the Inhumans themselves, now they fight for their own survival unassisted and unheard in their pleas for help, those who assault them from Earth itself, the forces of Apocalypse, rebel Inhumans calling themselves Dark Riders and the dreaded Four Horsemen.

Inside the circular cup shaped inlet of Luthor built up from the ruins of the Blue City Attilan home of the Inhumans is engaged in battle. Once proud spires lay toppled, sections of the grand inhuman homestead burn, homes are crushed and hundreds are dead, dying or injured.

"They hide inside the Citadel cowering in fear of us!" Psynapse, the most outspoken of the Dark Riders. Tall and thin he stands at the front of the battlefield, the obliterated palace exterior where once walls and gardens existed, now it all lies trampled beneath the forces of Apocalypse.
"This is our final push and then, I shall be KING OF THE INHUMANS!" His laughter rises in crescendo, loud, grating, one could even say obnoxious.

It has been a week since the Horsemen joined the fight against the Inhumans. The Dark Rider known as Hardwire, teleportation platforms to and from the Forever Walker's lair and the Horseman War have been the primary modes of transportation, they are the only ones capable of exit and entrance from the Blue Side of the Moon. Celestial technology bars all outside interference unless Apocalypse deems otherwise. There is no help and no hope for the Inhumans, they cannot even escape. Those who have not been killed have been captured and made slaves for the cruel master of the Dark Riders.

A streak in the artificial atmosphere, tinted in malevolent black as it tears the space with its speed, runs mercilessly across the battlefield.

Defending Inhumans are pushed and tossed in its path, and those are the lucky ones. Because, when the black blur takes a moment to stop, he makes sure it's to bring so much pain as it's possible. And then, if they are fortunate enough, he lets them have death. Otherwise, they are left to knows a far worse fate.

Under the blood that mostly covers him, most of it not his, of course, the Horseman wears a heavy black leather cloak. His hair is raven black and his eyes are covered in a silver fire that perpetually burns, sometimes higher, as it brings mayhem and destruction to the world above.

His fists deliver supersonic punishment, tearing bodies, hearts, and even worse, as Death advances. There is always a smirk and a smile in his lips, carrying cruelty and madness. And that, madness, is always present…

No one can say where that sound comes from. It resounds as it came from everywhere at the same time, and among the confusion it causes, there's one thing that can be said: That sound, whatever it is, is laughter. A maniac, monstrous, laughter. The last sound many soldiers will ever hear.

And among the laughter there is the ravaging screams, and the sudden gasps borne upon them as their necks sink in upon ligaments, cartilage and bone. A clawing, cloying, clutch of fingers as they seek to breathe, to finish their screams, Rogue walks through them. Or otherwise, now known as Famine. what was white or gold is black, what falls from the cloak is in tatters, and eternal burning of cinders and waste of cloth, the gloves that had once covered fingers completely, finger-less and from them the black of wide-spread decay spreads.

Pale skin of the Southern Belle is sunken at cheeks, eyes once a mossy green of rolling fields now glow a gold lined in black, constant reflections like a predator in the night set within dark pits of sockets.

One that ebb of refusal in Death's path falls a steed of corrosive black and brittle hocks reels throughout its rider, razor teeth of broke corrosion gnashing against a non-existent bit with a brittle bridle falling through the mane. Taking her steeds mane in hand the flesh gives beneath, cracks but holds to swing Famine atop and they sweep upward in a ride of destruction towards that of Psynapse where the monstrous beast that bears a Horseman rears up and bellows a sickening scream across the masses of warring troops.

But somewhere in there…. No, no choke hold of gold…. A flash of eyes and Death is within sights, the sneer exposed upon blackened lips of the former Scarlett.

Internal battles are waged for some, like Famine but others like Death this is visceral on a different level. He is not cured of the alterations upon his body like Rogue is, each use of her Apocalypse granted powers drains it, eventually she will not be able to keep up the ruse of Horseman. It is only a matter of time before she slips. Those dark gifts are very much leaving her.

At the Citadel walls a man in black steps up, no words, simply stands there as figures emerge from behind him.

"You show yourselves to DIE!" Psynapse screams up at them, "Behold! The Horseman are with us now and at your very gates! Kneel Blackagar Boltagan, FORMER King of the Inhumans!" Proudly the rebel Inhuman motions towards Death and Famine. As if they were his doing and not Apocalypse' own.

"You have brought this upon yourself, cousin." The woman in purple and black beside the Inhuman King almost spits, the snakes nest of red hair splaying out behind her whips about in contained rage. "You are traitors of the worst kind, you have killed your very own, ripped away our culture and our lives, women, children, innocents. There will be no mercy for any of you!"

"They seek to kill us, Dark Riders." Psynapse sneers, a gaze from left to right at the motley crew of devils around him, "Death, what say you to these threats? Do you feel threatened by these nobles?"

Hardwire swallows, his cybernetic components shift and he steps back, "I am going to secure the relay. I must make sure the barrier holds and we maintain this blanket of security the High Lord has granted us. If it falls, we will not only be facing the Inhumans in this war, surely even they have allies."

A grunt escapes the brutish massive rocky form of Husk, the horns on his shoulders covered in blood not his own and underlings (miniature versions of himself) are spawned around him en masse. "Coward."
"They are scared and no match."


Thunder? No. Hooves, the Gorgon now joins the other Royals, his satyr-like legs hammering the Earth, pounding it menacingly with each stomp. His arms fold over his chest. He simply awaits command of Black Bolt and Medusa.

Inhumans vs Apocalypse.

The Speed Demon stops as his name is mentioned. His true name. Death. Still, a good part of an Inhuman held by his hand, he takes a moment to turn and glance at the source of such talking. His silver eyes are a crystal mirror of insanity. A finger, covered in blood, is extended an in a painfully slow motion, he licks it while exposing a big, wide smile.

"Hard to say, Psynapse. I don't recognize no noble aside from Lord Apocalypse. Now, if you talk about that freaks in thrones and fancy speech, then I have only one thing to say." His image blurs and disappears, just to reappear practically immediately beside the rebellious Inhuman leader, his head tilted in defiance. "Sit down and enjoy the ride. Because when I'm done with your lapdogs, and when I'm done with my mission here, you will be my toys for a very long, and pleasant, game."

The Horseman disappears again, now facing a new batch of soldiers who won't even see what killed them. It is so fast, that it's maybe a show of mercy. They may perish before knowing the kind of pain only the former Quicksilver can bring.

But he has a mission, first. Terrigen Crystals. Where are they?

He looks around, trying to see beyond the blood and fire to spot any of the valuable objects.

He cracks a skull under his feet in the meantime.

Famine's beast lowers and when it does the cloven hooves crack the sur(face) of the moon beneath, adopting the powers of its ride only in look and feel as the skin around its equine body sinks in and barely coats every skeletal ridge.

Upon him the hair of the woman is more whit with brunette streaks, zombic eyes bearing black instead of white, green lining gold eyes maintain a focus upon the Inhumans as they make a stand…
…and something flickers while green cracks through gold like veins…
"Don't do dis mah belle…"

"It's not your fault."

The charge comes borne upon hooves meant for a hell, the flow of the cloaks 'wings' spread behind in tattered frays that nearly seem to set aflame once more in her own charge, un-gloved fingers knotted into the beasts mange-laden mane before she twists, an acrobatic motion flinging her from the spine she rode in upon, slamming her into a midst that cracks the face of the solar further.

Famine does not deal in blood, neither does Rogue. Is she in the belly of the Inhumans?


Psynapse is who stands beside her while tattered fingers seek to attempt a clutch upon his jaw and draw him in.

Flickers of gold, twists of black, a flash of white.

"Give me some shugah…" If Psynapse doesn't move fast, Famine is about to usurp him!
Grand scale superhuman skirmish, all Hell breaks loose as the Inhumans and the invading Dark Riders clash before the Citadel. The Dark Riders are augmented by their leader Apocalypse where as the Inhumans themselves fight for survival and for their people. It is bloody, it is brutal and it is terrifying. It has begun fast.

Where Quicksilver was a fist had appeared, a slicing backhand that would have taken his head off was he not blessed with the speeds of Mercury himself. No surprise is shown by Black Bolt he only stares at the pitched battle. Calculating. Waiting. Watching.

Medusa is unlike her husband, she had moved to entangle Quicksilver only to find him moving, twisting here and there, looking? "That one is not fighting us, my love. He is… looking for someone or something… "

"Karnak, take him!" The red headed Queen commands.

The Mad Monk flips over top of one of his Husks underlings and zeros in on Quicksilver. "Eyes over here you murderous bastard. I am your opponent." A circle of Void Warriors and Dark Riders has been created around the Shatterer. He is no threat to be taken lightly.

"What could he possibly be seeking?" Medusa questions her silent lover, studying his emotionless features. A frown etched across her attractive features. "Lockjaw! Triton! Withdraw, Lockjaw to the barracks, Triton to Randac's Chamber."

Triton a green skinned and finned man with two daggers spins, twists and cuts down a red skinned Dark Rider, blood sprayed in a multicolored wash across his lean body. "My queen." He is retreating back inside.

Lockjaw the massive dog shakes whomever is in it's mouth rapidly back and forth as though they were a rat caught in a ship, dashing him back and forth before releasing then simply vanishing in a puff.

"Let us join the fray." Medusa then descends, red serpent locks lashing this way and that like whips and lances.

Blackbolt joins her. No sounds only the thumps and crunching of fallen enemies. The fighting is climbing to it's peak.

Quicksilver will hear it, that sound as if it was amplified yet only he can hear it, "Randac." The hollow and powerful voice of Apocalypse. A direction, a singular verbal confirmation of his Horseman's mission.

Psynapse laughter cuts off as fear fills him, Black Bolt moves. That alone causes him to pause even him, a man who has stood in the shadow of Apocalypse. "Kill the Kin—-" His mouth is then clutched, hefted off of his feet by the woman known as Famine, what? why? Then his lips touch hers and his eyes go wide. More terror. His thoughts are what have I done to displease?
Rogue posing as Famine absorbs Psynapse's psionic energy. The personality and surface memories of the Inhuman flood in to her and she can feel a new stirring of abilities as a portion of her hair will bleed to purple like Psynapses, telepathy, the ability to create monsters out of pure energy and astral projection.

The black blur that hunts in the shadows drifts between numerous other victims, just for his own amusement. His mission lays somewhere else, but… where?

A challenge is cast, and in the middle of his bloodlust, Death's cold stare turns to meet the caster of such thing. In an instant, he is already behind Karnak, leaning forward to be very, very close to his ear. "Murderous bastard? And with that mouth you kiss your Inhuman mom?"

Multiple Quicksilver copies appear now, speed mirages everywhere. Some of them close to the Inhuman, some of them further. Some of them dangerously close to the Royals. And, a few of them, killing soldiers around.

But, the real reason lays somewhere else. They are searching.

"If you are alive when I return," Quicksilver offers, "Then I'll make sure you are not anymore." His Transian accent is so exquisite and some cruel in equal amounts.

The voice in his head is clear, and he reminds something the Queen commanded a bit ago. "Triton, was it?" He murmurs. Now his destination is clear, and the real Quicksilver among the numerous copies makes his way to Randac's Chamber.

Everything. To displease.

New or old, don't fuck with my family lest ya'll wan't ground up where grits and yer bones are indiscernible…" (Southern and Famine mixed thoughts!….

Where Psynapse is dropped from her fingers, those battered gloves start to reform, the guise slipping to seal off skin except for upon her left, where that violet taint remains, where she had touched - matching her lips… Her hair in tips. As the Moon beneath her feet begins to form another crater in cracks and crevices those purple/black bruise hued lips peel back into a smile.
"..come back River Rat.."
"Be careful, Rogue."
//"You're an X-Man…"

Hair red that bleeds to purple tips shifts, the white streak back but more a stained silvery violet as it fly's upward in a shift of gravity, the entities and absorption in her mind admixed until she focuses and her eyes bleed fully green, the small crater a sunken pedestal as ultra-violet golems come to rise, a line formed between Apocalyprians and Inhumans. Sunken cheeks though, remain sunken, the gold still sparking around pupils.

And to Death's mind as well as that upon the battlefield for Apocalyprian purpose?

"STOP!!" The golems heading forth, and to Quick, they appear as X-Men, or those he sees as them…

Purple-pink energy manifestations appearing as X-Men begin to seek out Quicksilver. These come from Rogue who is now using Psynapse' power, one by one they materialize and much like the team of real begin to fight for the Inhumans NOT Apocalypse.

Black Bolt stops just before Rogue his fist raised up ready to strike her and Psynapse but instead he nods his head to her, a tip down of it and he motions beyond the young woman towards where Hardwire had went.

Medusa with hair being used like stilts drops to a kneel beside them straightening up with a dusting of her hands, "He is unsure who you are or why you turn on your people but is asking if you would help us one last time." Medusa follows Black Bolt's gaze and finger point, "The device that appeared when the Dark Riders began to rebel, it stops all outside communication, even teleportation functions. We need you to disable it so we can escape. They are killing us our city is lost. Can you do this? Speak quickly, lives are at stake." A pause. "Our lives, our children's and possibly your Earth. No good can come of any of this."
Black Bolt nods to his wife's words then turns launching himself in to Husk crushing the man in to the moon's surface.

Triton is racing, running and spinning with both blades exposed as Quicksilver exposes himself, flanked by Karnak and the Psychic Manifestations of X-Men. "I will stop you. Even if I die." The odd bubble-garbed voice of the man coming from behind the mask he wears, tubing lining his neck and arms.

"Slow him, Triton! He seeks entrance to Randac's Chamber! He is after the Crystals!" Karnak yells.

Triton aware of this doesn't speak any further, he is already attacking Quicksilver in a whirling dervish maneuver of flowing blades. He looks like a master at work but is he fasts enough to keep up with the Pale Horseman of Death.

As being in shape of the X-Men start chasing Death, his insane smirk and his maniac laughter only intensify. That thunderous voice that comes from everyone resounds, tearing the air of everywhere at the same time.

"Thank you, Rogue. Now I have an excuse to shatter you under my fist. I don't forget, and I don't forgive. I remember… I remember when we fought. And, trust me, I will have the last laugh."

Now, following the real Quicksilver, and the fake X-Men, two speed mirages join the persecution. They shift positions, blurring at times and then going slower to show themselves. Which one is the real one? They all have that laughter… it never ends. And they all have that scarlet blood, still touching his lips.

"Black Bolt, stop being a coward and speak for yourself. Show us your powers, like a fighter and sort being your wife's shadow… Or else, I will personally make you scream."

The ever-present voice is taunting, challenging, but the three Quicksilvers are focused on one single thing. They have a mission. Now, there are still a few killings to be made, it looks like.

"So, the crystals /are/ in Randac's Chamber, after all." One of them whispers in Triton's ear. He is clearly trying to play with his mind. There's dark delight in every word. "They send you as their dog, since the real puppy is busy doing more important things. Is this the death you desired? Isn't it low, even for an Inhuman freak? Well, if your Royalty thinks you are so disposable, then it would be rude of me to act against their will."

All three mirages smile and offer a gentle nod to Triton.

"//Gods save the Queen. Gods save the King. And may their will be fulfilled with no question. May the sacrifice they offer be a signal of good will towards Lord Apocalypse, and may this lapdog suffer a painful, though not honorable," The laugh is heard, "Death."

All three copies dash in a full-speed punch directed to Triton.

I see a Red Door and I want to Paint It Black…

Those eyes of a confused and bleeding of hues turn towards where Black Bolt and Medusa gesture, a incandescent flicker of glowing green reflects, a shockwave of purple veining streaking across, her shadow one where cloak lashing outward is a scarf around hips… Crimson if it was not for the darkness. All in her head.

Despite his workings though, and who he stood by, the draw of Black Bolt's fist to Psynapse has Rogue standing over the fallen and emaciated form. She needed him alive… For her own well being, and that of later recompense if it came. The X-Man among the Brotherhood in her. That and with the response came the remaining shadows and the glow of gold and -black-.

Pushing away from the King and Queen, Rogue stares out at the battle and turns, even as Death's words echo like a string drawn along her spine, straightening it. Hands curl to fists, fingernails marking crescents into palms and draw blood, a dark red and nearly black but there is red within before it hits the moon's pull and floats into space.

The pillar is her goal, spires at the very tip and coursing with an innate power…
No powers anymore…
Reaching the obelisk Famine/Rogue falls to her knees at its base, her head craning back and then she lowers, almost prostrate, asking for the Lord Apocalypse's forgiveness where Hardwire had disappeared?

But that is when arms thrown overhead of auburn, purple and silver locks grip the base.

The ground quakes, the attire of a pine green rips as it bleeds into emerald around it, skin tightening and twisting beneath while feet draw up for a brace and the obelisk is being attempted to be ripped from the powdery surface of grey sod.

A lateral rise if success is had, launching it towards Death, who will see the psi-figures in violet, one of which an X-Man of Red, a witch and of blood… And she shatters…

All the while the figure of Rogue is fully reformed, in tatters, and collapses.

I could not foresee this thing happening to you.
..I want to see the sun..

It is a lost battle and the Inhumans fight valiantly but the sheer numbers of Apocalypse army is overwhelming them, the ferocity of the Dark Riders shines in a bloody red glow. Even with Black Bolt and Medusa now fighting alongside their kinsmen they are being defeated.

"To the end!" Gorgon roars and swings an enemy about like a bludgeon. Using him to beat his adversaries with one of their own.

One by one the Inhuman Royals other than Black Bolt and Gorgon begin to retreat, falling back so they can defend the innocent lives inside of the Royal Palace.

Black Bolt ignores Quicksilver he is a man of absolute self control. If he was not he would have destroyed everything he loves ages ago, a yawn, a sneeze, the simplest of gestures would obliterate the world around him. Husk is torn down, beaten in to a pulp but Dark Riders and Mikhail Rasputin's Void Warriors are many and they are armed.

Medusa leads the rest of the remaining Inhumans in retreat, followed by her sister Crystal.
"What about, Gorgon and the others?"
"They will be with us shortly, steel yourself sister now is not the time."

Karnak continues his chase of Pietro, pointing forth, "Triton! That one, that one is the real… " Too late. Even with his powers to discern weakness and ultimately truth he is not quick enough. Not by a longshot.

Triton's body collides with the Randac Chamber door in a sickening thump and an even louder crash, the doors blown inwards, off their hinges to reveal a cavern alight with crystal growth, more than enough of the Terrigen Crystals to make Apocalypse' plan come to fruition. The High Lord will be pleased with this turn out.
"Gather them, my greatest of Horsemen." A whisper, a command, eagerness can not be hidden in Apocalypse tone even spoken through the mindscape like this.

The obelisk and Rogue! It is torn free of it's hold on the lunar soil and the invisible dome around the Blue Side of the Moon loses stability, fades away opening Attilan once more to the universe. Hardwire who was meant to be defending it is no match for Rogue, he didn't even bother to defend it nor is he even present. Retreated far away where not even Apocalypse can hunt him down. At least for now.

Elsewhere… NOW…

Charles Xavier's eyes snap open and he sits up, the glass of water beside his bed knocked to the floor shattering. "She has done it!"
Fingers steeple to the sides of his forehead and his mind projects outwards… seeking.
Rogue! You have succeeded I have contact with you, hang in there my child, we are coming, I will find you help, I will find all of you help.'

The Lady Sif, will feel it, an intrusion a mental presence yet not a threatening one, perhaps one of the most peaceful minds she will ever know, "Fair one! I implore you, we are in dire need of your help. A war is being fought for innocent lives, a secret war hidden from the eyes of man and god alike, engineered by an insane monster. I am unsure if you have the power to do what I ask of you but I give you a link through my mind to another, my agent who is upon the very moon itself where this fight takes place." Images, a bald human sitting on the edge of a bed, hands reaching skyward, through the world, past the atmosphere to the moon, across it and in to a mind, a mind that holds hundreds of other minds, noises, screaming, outside and in, a shattered place but outside of it a battle rages, Quicksilver is seen, the Inhumans, the Dark Riders, she is seeing the moon through the eyes of the X-Men Rogue, Charles Xavier has linked them.

"There! Can you reach there!? They need you, please! They will die if you do not help them."

There is something about Quicksilver, but more exactly, about Pietro.

The oldest Maximoff twin (by several minutes!) took care of his sister from the earliest of his days. For him, she was more than just a sibling. She was his other half. She was his /everything/ for the majority of his life, and he even almost gave his life to save her when they were younger.

It was a time before Quicksilver and before the Scarlet Witch.

A time of memories clouded by… magic.

Somehow, and for reasons unknown to the pair of mutants, Pietro's memories of his sister have been caged. He has lost all of that memories, being unable to remember anything about her… What could be a crueler destiny, than one without what he cherishes more? But, as if it was an act of mysterious mercy, all that memories return to him (though only in temporary way) every time Pietro sees Wanda.

That, seeing her, is the only way to break a course, even if only for a few hours.

And now, thanks to Rogue and the illusion she has cast, all that memories are flushing into his mind… But it's not Death's mind. It's Pietro's.

Are you still there, silver-haired mutant? Of course you are.

"I WILL KILL YOU, ROGUE." Death growls, now fighting an internal fight, an internal WAR within himself. Two faces of the same coin are killing each other inside a fragile, tormented, mind. The Horseman falls to his knees, both hands, covered in blood, holding his head.

But the door opens. And there is a whisper.

It won't take long to see which side reigned over the other. The speedster, who could just walk in and gather the crystals, first takes the fallen Triton in a hand, and proceeds to mercilessly punch him, at supersonic speeds, with the other. Even after he has tossed the Inhuman on the ground, he kicks it, just for the sake of it. Bloodlust. And rage.


The black blur expands, it is everywhere, running at speeds he had never even dreamed of, not even after becoming Death. So many mirages are created, and the crystals are furiously taken from their places. Traces of blood are left everywhere.


Very rarely do Asgardians need sleep while on Midgard. Thor entertained himself in numerous way, of course, but Sif tended to sit calmly and quietly and mentally prepare herself for what could be a gruesome battle. Or she practices in the nearest open expanse to Darcy's apartment while the human sleeps.

Which is exactly what she was doing when that mental plea hit her. Telepathy wasn't something she was unused to but it was still jarring. Especially as the images flood her mind. At least she has a destination. She doesn't bother responding. Instead, she holds the image in her minds eye and swings the blade as she must to slice through space.

The portal seals the moment she's through, appearing from it to stand directly beside Rogue. Nothing more than a heartbeat is taken to survey the surroundings and what needs done… a heartbeat to calculate how long the portal would need to remain open… how many would need to go through… Normally, the portals take no energy what so ever and several people can pass through but she wouldn't be able to focus solely on the portal and there would be defending that would need done as well…

She might need a nap when she returns…

No matter, she slices through air once more. The 'dance' is elegant, the swings and are precise and deliberate, and then the portal to Earth shimmers into view. Wider than the one she stepped out of originally. More than one will need to go through at a time, of course.

When she speaks, her voice rings with an authority of one used to being obeyed on the battlefield. "Get them through the portal!" In the mean time… the second blade of her sword is extended and then the entire thing is split, giving her two weapons. — She's going to need a lot of mead after this…

"Another?" Medusa questions as Lady Sif makes herself known. "Do we trust this one as well, my King?" Insolence in her voice that only a wife could get away with.

Black Bolt struggles to his feet tossing aside half a dozen warriors and nods. A motion towards his lips with his fingers and then a wave.

"NO! You must not… " Swallowing Medusa rips the doors open to the Palace and screams, "THOSE OF YOU WHO CANNOT MAKE IT TO THE RIV, RUN TO THE SWORD-WOMAN, GO NOW!"

Gorgon charges towards Lady Sif and Rogue, standing above the Asgardian Warrioress, "If you harm any in my charge you will be slain. I am Gorgon and these are my kin." A backhand thrown and he crushes the skull of a Void Warrior who has run too close.

Lockjaw elsewhere is already teleporting people from the barracks to the Earth and back, the teleporting mutt quick at work as if he knew instantly when the barriers went down.

Crystal kneels to help Rogue to her feet again, shifting one of her clothed arms over her own. Not intentional but she does not manage skin contact. They're just that covered!

Karnak swings at one of Quicksilvers racing after images, "No no no NO! The Crystals… you foolish… no… " Triton's rasp distracts him, however, he turns and runs to his fellow Inhuman, slinging him over his shoulders, "It is coming to pass. What i feared, what I knew… it is all happening. I will kill you." He promises Quicksilver. "I will rip out your black heart." Threats is all he can do right now, he like the other Inhumans is running through the portals Sif has created. A master of strategy, a man who can see weakness, he knows when a battle is lost.

Black Bolt watches as they all retreat to safety patiently awaiting them to gather near the portal so he can do what must be done next and then, he speaks, "Go."

The concussive wave is incalculable, the boom absorbs all sound, nothingness and then just white blasting noise. A light encompasses all and all is destruction, the entire Attilan city vanishes. The portals and those near them are all that remains and one man who can outrun it all.

All around the world signals spark to life. A signal. A massive one. Strange once obscured ones long ago hidden, rerouted and blocked by advanced technology of the Inhumans, the Blue Side of the Moon has just been revealed. Revealed in an explosive manner.
The King has spoken and the world heard.
A seismic event on the moon like a nuke going off.

SHIELD's SWORD division and their command station are alive with G.W. Bridges scrambling to attention demanding answers.

The currently empty Justice League Tower floating above the Earth like a sleeping sentinel sparks to life. The monitoring womb within pinging unused alert channels.

A Stark Enterprises satellite begins registering events off the chart, snapping imagery over and over.

"Where are you going, little ones?"

Death's voice is a thunder that resounds everywhere, even when it sounds so sweet and cruel at the same time. And his fists, they are blades that cut through the fleeing Inhumans, taking one at a time just before they can reach the portal. That way he is not just taking their lives. He is taking their hope.

It is, however, only a small portion that is denied the opportunity of escaping. The Horseman is only doing it as a distraction, as he takes the Terrigen shards as ordered by Apocalypse.

"You can't kill Death, insolent fool." He answers to Karnak, one of the images, at least. "Now run, before I change my mind and end your pity existence with a single blow of my hand."

And then, the time itself slows down for him. In Quicksilver's perspective, everything happens very slow.

It is Pietro's eyes. Everything is now playing in slow motion.

"Argh." He murmurs to himself.

A shake of his head occurs. He looks up, to the stars, then to Sif with a questioning gaze. Black Bolt is still opening his lips. It will take him a while to speak, and everyone knows what happens when he does.

It was fun while it lasted. He could stay and die a warrior's death, but he is not a warrior. He is a killer. And he will live to kill another day.

He falls to the ground, sitting and pondering. Bolt's lips are a bit more opened. He is definitely going to speak. Now, lazily, he stands up again, pats his cloak as if he was taking dust off it. Too much blood. It ruined his attire. He loved it. The cloak is discarded on the ground. The Horseman stretches and yawns.

The last crystals are taken. Black Bolt's first and only word is being just spoken. He can even see the destructive way. It is approaching, so slowly.

He has all the time in the world, more or less. But he uses some of that time to let himself into a distant memory…


He smiles. And the smile turns harsher, crueler.

The man who can outrun it all, runs to safety.

He will live to kill another day.

A shudder, blips and scratches across the old film of what was Famine, and once the distortion clears Rogue is there, for a moment upon all fours kin the rise from collapse, the back of a fist sweeping blood from beneath nostrils. But as her hand falls away, between lips, a finger of the glove is captured within teeth and slipped free.

Rising to knees, a wobble, her hand placed, a shift of mossy green gaze towards Sif and the portal opens while Rogue rises, the glove falling to the face of the Moon departed of her. That hand extends, from a flop wristed laze of her sapped energy it wobbles and shakes, fingers curling, middle finger the only left unclutched into a fist before it rises upward towards Death and the resonance before it begins.

Yes. Fuck you.


A shaky stance and those seeking to flee from Attilan are given as much aid as Rogue can offer before she walks through the protal. Back turned. Intentional (Although inside it hurt like hell on a coppers back).

Sif is given a long look as a child wailing for its mother is plucked from the ground, though by its bristly/reptilian ruff with the 'human' dolly it carries and clutched.

The look is all. No words needed as the gesture alone shows where Rogue stands and what she intends. Although…

"Is Moonshine too soon, lady?" Words quaked, nearly bore a uptilt upon the end of unshed tears and desired screams of rage from the O'Hara's 'decent'.

Through the portal she goes on the barest edges of Bolt's vocals…

The War Goddess snorts as Gorgon looms over her and 'informs' her of his thoughts on her presence there. "I am Lady Sif of Asgard… And I intend your people no harm." Which is why her blades find purchase in any who get to close and clearly intend harm to those making their way through the portal she's opened. "Just help them through. It won't close until I step through."

Her eyes flick to Death as he and she just grins. It's dark and dangerous and completely unafraid of him. If anything, there's a touch of regret that she clearly won't get to deal with him at the moment. Another day, however. There are things that, while not nearly as fun, are far more important.

Rogue's words reach her ears and the Goddess spares the girl a glance, the corners of her lips twitching faintly but not fully blooming into a smile just yet. She has too much to focus on and most of it is the portal. The fighting, on top of keeping it open, is beyond draining for her otherwise she'd be teleporting to help get people out as well.

Finally, when everyone is through, The Goddess herself steps back through it, returning to Midgard along with all the refugees, and the rift seals up behind her.

Where Attilan City was is nothing but a crater within a crater, not even Black Bolt is visible within, destroyed by his own power or buried by debris there is nothingness.

Thanks to Charles Xavier, Rogue and Sif the Inhumans still exist.

Quicksilver finds himself soon outside of the Blue Zone and oxygen begins to leave his body and gravity is no longer a thing, he will die, Death is getting a taste of Death but the crystals, how many times has he ran to this point and back already? How many has he gathered?

His struggle is brief, long enough to let him wonder if he has been forgotten by Apocalypse or not before he sees the Eternals towering form above him, hefting him up along with the crystals, "You have done well, Death. You are a true harbinger of the end. A great weapon indeed."

They fade out. The Crystals, PIetro and En Sabah Nur.

Upon the Earth/Midgard where Inhuman have not been in some time Crystal weeps for Medusa who stands only staring at the moon in the sky. With Gorgon resting his hand upon her shoulder, a nod of mournfuul warriors-respect is given Sif from the giant bearded man.

Karnak cradles the broken Triton.
Lockjaw leaps to Rogue's side snarling with that massive face before sniffing once, looking at the Royal family and then giving the X-Men one long doggy lap at the face. It is not puppy eager, it is just one of acknowledgement and acceptance perhaps a thank you.
These are not happy times for the Inhumans even though they have to some extent survived, they survive now with no king and no home - refugees now. At least they still have family.

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