CHAPTER 151— STEEL AND SHATTERED LOVE
Colossus's fist met living energy.
For one frozen instant, the city was silent—no screams, no warped bending of glass and stone, just the soundless collision of steel and nightmare. Then Proteus howled, a shriek of torn atoms, his body fracturing in a storm of color.
The kaleidoscope tore skyward, shards of impossible light scattering like stained glass in a hurricane. The air burned cold and hot all at once. Proteus's form collapsed inward, collapsing, collapsing—until he detonated in a shockwave of shattered reality.
The street buckled, cars flipped, windows imploded. Then, silence again.
Colossus staggered, steam rising from his armored frame. He looked at his glowing fist in disbelief. "I… I did not know." His Russian accent cracked. "I did not know he would—"
Polaris lowered with Moira clutched in her magnetic field. Moira's eyes were wide, her face pale as paper. The moment her feet touched the ground, she dropped to her knees.
"No," she whispered, voice breaking. "No, Kevin—my boy…" Her body convulsed with sobs, a mother torn between relief and ruin.
Polaris bent, steadying her. "You did what you had to," she said softly, though her own lips trembled.
Moira shook her head violently. "Don't tell me that. Don't—" She buried her face in her hands. "I thought I wanted him dead, I thought I hated Joseph, I thought—but God help me, I loved them both. And now—"
She could not finish. The sobs tore her raw.
A hand touched her shoulder.
"Moira." The voice was warm, laced with ache. Banshee knelt beside her, his ginger hair wild, his blue eyes misted. He gathered her against him with a tenderness that cut through the wreckage.
"Cry if ye must, lass," Sean whispered, holding her steady. "Cry until the fire leaves ye. No mother should face what ye faced. But hear me now—none o' this blood is on your hands. Kevin was lost long before tonight. Ye loved him. That love's the only thing that kept him human at all."
Moira clutched him, shaking. "Sean…"
He pulled her close, her sobs muffled against his chest. For a moment, Banshee's usual mirth was gone; only the man remained, steady as stone in a world still trembling.
Nearby, the X-Men gathered slowly from the wreckage.
Jean, leaning on Storm, eyes hollow but resolute. Cyclops standing tall but with guilt carving his face. Havok silent, staring at his brother, wishing there was something to fix. Thunderbird pacing like a caged lion, fists still clenching from the fight. Nightcrawler appearing in soft bamfs, checking for survivors. Logan crouched on a broken curb, cigar between bloodied teeth, watching Moira's grief with an unreadable face.
'This ain't victory,' he thought. 'This is just survivin'. Big damn difference.'
Storm lifted her gaze to the sky, voice quiet but carrying. "We fought a god tonight and won. Yet our triumph is ash in the mouth."
Colossus, his steel skin finally rippling back to flesh, hung his head. "I did not mean to destroy him," he said, guilt etched deep. "I thought only to stop him, not—"
Logan spat smoke. "Kid, don't twist yourself in knots. He was already gone." He flicked ash to the ground. "Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is end the pain. Don't mean it don't cut deep. Just means it's done."
Moira's sobs softened, her strength finally breaking into exhaustion. Banshee rocked her gently, murmuring quiet Irish words no one else understood. Polaris hovered nearby, torn between comforting and grieving herself.
The team stood amidst the wreckage of a city bent and broken, the silence heavy as a tomb.
Cyclops drew a long breath. "X-Men," he said, his voice grim but steady. "We came here to save lives. We did. But the cost—" He stopped, words faltering.
Jean took his hand quietly. "We'll carry it together."
And in that moment, amidst ash and fractured reality, the X-Men stood not as warriors but as family, holding the weight of loss in their hearts.
Above them, the aurora remnants of Proteus's passing flickered once, then faded into the night sky.