CHAPTER 150 — THE FRACTURE
The air itself screamed.
Proteus, no longer content with bending buildings, reached deeper—into the marrow of reality. Roads curled like scrolls, sky flickered between night and day in pulses. The world buckled, threatening to fold the X-Men into paper dolls.
Jean floated into the chaos, fire in her eyes. "Kevin—STOP!" Her voice quavered, but her mind struck with all the steel she had left. She hurled a psychic blast like a spear into Proteus's warped skull.
His shriek split glass and bone alike. "AGHHHH—MOTHER'S PET WITCH!" The Joseph-shell convulsed, its face melting into a thousand masks—father, child, stranger, corpse.
Jean pressed harder, sweat pouring, every nerve alight. Hold him. Just hold him—
But the backlash hit like a hammer. Proteus lashed out, his mind boiling over hers. Jean's scream cut short as invisible fingers ripped her balance away, sending her plummeting.
"JEAN!" Cyclops shouted, tearing his visor open in a crimson blast to catch her fall. The beam missed—Proteus twisted it into the ground, splitting the earth. Jean spiraled helplessly.
Logan's body moved before thought. He launched, claws slicing reality itself, and raked Proteus across the back. Black ichor spilled, Joseph's body howling.
"Didn't like that, huh?" Logan snarled, teeth bared. "You bleed, you can die."
Proteus whipped around, warping the ground beneath him. Logan staggered as the street turned to tar, dragging at his boots, clutching his legs like hungry hands.
"Little beast," Proteus hissed, teeth warping, voice doubled. "I'll fold you until you scream."
Logan strained, claws thrashing, tar climbing to his waist. "Already screamin' inside, bub." His grin was feral even as the muck swallowed him.
High above, Jean tumbled, arms flailing. Storm dove, wind roaring, catching her sister-in-arms just before impact. Jean gasped against her chest, pale but alive.
"Easy, child," Storm murmured, cradling her. "You fought bravely. Rest now."
Proteus reeled, but the onslaught was far from over.
Cyclops, Havok, and Banshee regrouped, circling like wolves around a bear.
"On three!" Cyclops barked. "One—two—THREE!"
His optic beam cut red. Havok's plasma burst gold. Banshee's wail split the night.
The three-pronged assault hit Proteus from different sides, staggering him, tearing chunks from his collapsing host. For the first time, doubt flickered in his warped eyes.
But Proteus laughed. A sound like knives on glass. He twisted his fingers, and the beams bent back, ricocheting wild.
"BROTHER, LOOK OUT!" Havok shouted as Cyclops' blast swerved toward him. He dropped, plasma exploding sideways instead—nearly catching Banshee mid-scream.
The three staggered apart, their own fire snapping at them.
Proteus sneered, Joseph's face stretching like clay. "Fight yourselves for me. Dance."
Before he could press the advantage, a shadow plummeted from the sky.
Thunderbird.
He slammed into Proteus with the force of a meteor, fists like piledrivers. The impact cracked the street in a shockwave. Proteus screamed, Joseph's body ripping apart under the strain.
"Got you, freak!" Thunderbird bellowed, fists hammering. "You're not taking my people, not today!"
The Joseph-shell quivered, split down the middle. Proteus burst free, the flesh husk collapsing like a shed skin.
Now he was energy—raw, burning, formless. His body blazed like living aurora, a kaleidoscope of hunger.
Thunderbird staggered back, chest heaving. "What in—"
Proteus struck, blasting him with pure distortion, sending him sprawling into wreckage. The light-creature advanced, tendrils reaching.
"This shell burns out," Proteus hissed, his voice now layered with a dozen tones. "Yours will do nicely."
Thunderbird groaned, struggling to rise. Proteus loomed, radiant jaws yawning wide.
And then—bamf.
Sulfur and smoke.
Nightcrawler appeared at Thunderbird's side, grabbed him tight, and vanished again in another burst of brimstone. Proteus lashed, chasing, but found only empty space.
From the warped skyline, a new shadow fell—Polaris, emerald aura glowing, Moira clutched against her.
Behind them, Colossus plummeted like a falling star, steel body glinting. He landed in a quake, standing tall in front of the blazing Proteus.
The energy-thing flickered, uncertain.
Colossus clenched his fist, voice steady. "You are no longer man, Kevin. You are hunger only. I cannot let you feed."
And with a roar, he drove his steel fist into Proteus's chest.
The world went white.