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Rogue

Day Two: Revelations

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Drake

Marcus nodded and went to the door to see the two girls out. "Yeah. See you then. Thanks for coming by. Sleep well...both of you."

***

All of the X-Men youth were huddled around the top floor hallway window which afforded the best view of the street below. It wasn't the best view as much of the fight had been concealed by wall, tree and hedge, but it was as good as it could have gotten...short of Kurt mass teleporting everyone out to the street.

When they heard the door open downstairs, Kurt gasped. "Everyone to their rooms!" he said.

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Drake

A short time later, Peter went up to his room after taking a shower. The younger students were all in their rooms when the three young adults returned after the battle. Peter knew, however, that probably wasn't the case for the duration of the fight. He had smelled traces of popcorn in the upstairs hallway by the window.

Not that it mattered. The youth would be experiencing such things for themselves some day soon. Kurt was the only one of them who already had. Starting Monday, Peter decided to recruit the German teen to assist him in running Danger Room practice.

The big Russian stripped down to his boxers and sat on the edge of his bed. He looked over to his nightstand, at a framed picture of the young, blonde girl, and smiled sadly. Peter then turned off the lights and laid down to sleep.

Sleep did not come easy to Piotr Rasputin. His mind was racing with thoughts and his dreams were clouded by doubt, fear and vengence.

Piotr...help me! came the young girl's voice.

"Illyana!" exclaimed Peter. He sat up, coated in a thin layer of sweat and breathing heavily. It took a few seconds for him to get his bearings before laying back down. Looking over at his clock, Peter saw that it was now four o'clock in the morning. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. His nightmares were only half-way done.

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Chickenman

Chalk scraped across the board and pencils scribbled on lined paper. A cell phone vibrated as someone yawned quietly. The nearly silent cacophony was proving distracting for the boy, whose sensitivity to sound had grown after recent events. His own scribbling was brought to a halt as his concentration broke. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Just...stop!

And the sound did. He opened his eyes to see that the people were still working on their assignments for a moment. Then, as one, they all stopped. Not a single noise could be heard in the room. The chalk scratching, the pencils scribbling, there wasn't even the sound of bodies breathing. A classroom of teenagers sat back in their chairs without a creak. The piece of chalk slipped from the teacher's fingers, and bounced on the tile floor. Not a sound. Only one word could describe the scene perfectly, and it was surreal.

"Not again," he muttered. To his terror, his words were quite audible.

It was to everyone else's terror as well. Everything else was still perfectly silent. Fingers pointed at him and he caught one girl screaming silently. Two football players advanced towards him, terrified and also looking to render the boy's wiry body into a puddle.

He scooped up his bookbag and darted out of the room. To his relief, the hallway was as defeaning as ever. The boy ran. He ran and never looked back.

Silas Breckenridge bolted upright from his nightmare, panting heavily. It had been less than a week since the events of his dream, and he'd gotten very little sleep in that time. He'd had similar incidents before, but this was the most bizarre. He turned to stare at the moon outside his window, as, for once, the Seattle night sky was clear.

"What's happening to me?" he asked.

The moon held no answers.

Silas buried his face in his hands.

Edited by Chickenman

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