53— –Ilyana Rasputin– —
"...Illyana."
The voice echoed softly through her mind, gentle and familiar, yet somehow just a little bit wrong. She paused, blinking sleepily into the darkness.
"Hmnh?" She murmured, rubbing her eyes. "Professor?"
She stood slowly, yawning as she padded quietly across the polished wooden floorboards, her oversized slippers making a quiet shuffling noise. Illyana Rasputin was only eleven, with bright golden hair that bounced when she walked, and eyes full of hope and wonder. Over the past few years, Xavier's Mansion had become her entire world, a warm, safe place filled with the scent of old books and the cheerful laughter of students like Kitty and Jean echoing down the hallways. It was a place where she believed dreams could come true.
Before the mansion, her world had been the harsh yet comforting embrace of the Russian countryside, snowy mornings where her older brothers would protect her from the cold. Especially Piotr, he could become metal, like a knight in armor straight out of her fairytale books. Her brother was a hero, and Illyana wanted nothing more than to be just like him.
Maybe one day she'd lift mountains or summon storms. Maybe she'd glow as brightly as Jean or dance through the skies like Ororo. Professor Xavier had gently hinted at her own potential, telling her that she, too, might one day have a "gift." Until then, she filled her days with exploration, laughter, and endless curiosity. She read every story she could find, painted flowers that stained her fingertips for days, and spun in circles down hallways, dreaming about the kind of mutant she might become.
Would she be brave, like Piotr? Would she make him proud?
"Follow my voice, Illyana…" The strange whisper returned, gentle but insistent. "Follow me to Paradise."
She paused again, clutching her teddy bear tighter, a hint of confusion passing through her.
"Professor…?"
Only Jean and Professor Xavier had ever spoken into her mind like this. Illyana hesitated, biting her lip nervously, but after a moment she gathered her courage. She was safe here, the professor would never lead her astray. Maybe something had happened. Maybe the mansion was under attack and this was the professor's way of guiding her to safety.
She moved carefully through the mansion, the dark corridors seeming longer and emptier than usual. Eventually, she reached the center of the house, where a small, glowing portal shimmered faintly in the dimness.
"Come inside, Illyana. You'll be safe here." The voice whispered again, calm and reassuring.
For a heartbeat, she froze, filled with uncertainty. Then, drawing in a deep, brave breath, she whispered to herself. "You've gotta be brave, Illyana."
She trusted Professor Xavier. He'd never hurt her. He was family.
Stepping cautiously into the shimmering portal, Illyana felt the world twist around her. Colors blurred briefly, and then suddenly, she was standing in a grand, strange room. Dark stone walls towered around her, faintly illuminated by flickering torches, and everything seemed like something out of the fairytales Piotr used to read to her.
But then her eyes landed on the figure standing in front of her, tall, imposing, and utterly unfamiliar.
Crimson skin, piercing golden eyes, and twisted horns curling back from his forehead. He smiled down at her, a sharp, unsettling grin that made her skin crawl for only just a second.
Yet Illyana tilted her head, relaxing just slightly as curiosity overtook her fear.
"Oh…." She said softly, her eyes widening with a hint of fascination. "Are you… related to Kurt?"
After all, Kurt Wagner had blue skin, a tail, and could teleport. Maybe this red-skinned man was family.
It made sense, didn't it?
The man let out a low, amused chuckle, stepping toward her slowly. His smile widened, colder now, and his voice carried a sinister edge.
"No, Illyana." He said softly, almost gently, as he reached out to grasp her chin, tilting her face upwards to inspect her carefully. "I am something far better."
— –Alexander Montclair– —
Alex didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he raised his makeshift weapon and aimed squarely at the demon's chest. The polished black barrel trembled slightly in his grip, partly from the unstable vibration of the overloaded Aether Core humming inside, though mostly, he had to admit, because of fear.
One shot, he reminded himself. He only had one real shot. Any more than that and the core would destabilize entirely, and he'd be lucky if all it did was burn his hand.
Thankfully, the demon stood motionless across the chamber, making it an easier shot. He had his crimson arms crossed lazily, while his golden eyes glinted with cold amusement.
Alex clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on the weapon, forcing down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Then he squeezed the trigger. A fierce emerald glow burst from the barrel, the weapon vibrating violently as it unleashed a torrent of unstable energy. It shot forward like bottled lightning, scorching the air itself.
For a moment, Alex thought, or well, hoped, that he had hit him. But at the last instant, the demon shifted slightly, almost casually. The searing beam sailed harmlessly past, colliding instead with the stone wall behind, sending shards of rock flying through the chamber in a cloud of choking dust.
Alex staggered back, coughing as debris rained down around him. Yet, even through the cloud of dust he could hear laughter, deep, sinister laughter. The demon was laughing at him.
He quickly steadied himself, aiming again desperately, but the core had already overheated. He could see molten metal dripping from the barrel, sparks spitting from exposed wiring. Another shot would rip the gun apart in his hands.
"Dammit." Alex cursed as his eyes began darting frantically for options. His heart hammered in his chest; he knew he wouldn't survive standing here like an idiot. And in his desperation he came up with a reckless idea.
He glanced again at the ruined weapon. The exposed Aether Core flickered violently, energy pulsing erratically. One wrong move, and it would… well, it would do what everything he had invented so far would.
Alex gripped the glowing core and tore it from the frame. Sparks erupted, burning his fingertips as he yanked free a wire connecting the regulator. Instantly, the green glow darkened ominously, becoming a volatile, pulsating emerald that scorched his palms.
"Hey, asshole!" He shouted, and hurled the unstable core directly at the demon's smirking face.
He hadn't hoped for much. Best case? Maybe he'd vaporize half the chamber along with the smug bastard's head. Worst case… well, at least he'd leave a burn mark.
But what he didn't expect was for the demon to lazily reach out and snatch the core from midair with a grin. He caught it as if Alex had tossed him nothing more dangerous than a softball. Seeing his smile made him feel dread like he never had before.
The demon stared down at the volatile core, golden eyes glittering, before returning his gaze slowly to Alex's stunned expression. The grin on his face growing wider by the second.
"Now, aren't you an interesting one?" The demon purred, clearly amused. Then, almost casually, the core in his hand vanished. In the distance, he could hear what sounded like a massive explosion, which meant that the demon had simply teleported his best chance at escape away.
"Anything else?" The demon asked mildly, though Alex could hear the mockery in his tone.
Alex swallowed dryly, his heart was racing. He stared helplessly at the somewhat melted remains of his best weapon in his hands, his bravado evaporating.
"No…" He finally said, though it was nothing more than a whisper.
"Good." The demon replied, his tone dripping contempt as he approached leisurely, each slow step echoing ominously in the chamber. Alex instinctively backed up, but quickly found himself cornered against the stone wall.
Once the demon was in front of Alex, he crouched down, and in an instant, his hand shot forward. The demon's fingers wrapped around Alex's throat as he effortlessly lifted him off the ground. Panic and fear passed through Alex, but with the adrenaline inside of him, he tried to pull off one final attack.
He reached into his back pocket, his fingers wrapping tightly around the screwdriver he had grabbed from his lab just seconds before the demon kidnapped him. Then, shouting by instinct, he swung it toward the demon's right eye.
Yet, the demon caught his wrist easily, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"No, no." He whispered, as if gently scolding a misbehaving child. Then, with a sharp squeeze, Alex felt the bones in his hand shatter, pain exploding through him. He opened his mouth to scream, but the demon tightened his grip, choking the sound back down.
"I let you throw your little tantrum. Now it's time for you to be quiet and listen."
Alex writhed helplessly, his lungs burning, his vision blurring at the edges. His good hand clawed feebly at the demon's fingers trying to loosen his grip enough to take one more breath, but it was useless.
"How very intriguing." The demon murmured thoughtfully, leaning closer as he studied Alex's face. His nails dug painfully into Alex's neck, drawing trickles of blood. Alex tried to shout, but once again, he felt the sound be caught on his throat.
"Even this much isn't enough?" The demon muttered, more to himself than Alex, sounding genuinely intrigued. "No matter. You'll awaken it soon enough."
The demon's free hand suddenly plunged toward Alex's chest. For a fraction of a second, he was confused, then agony tore through every nerve, lighting his body on fire. A silent scream clawed up his throat, his body seizing uncontrollably from the pain, before darkness mercifully swept him under, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
— — —
Opening his eyes, Alex found himself lying on a cold, rough stone floor.
Without the adrenaline of being kidnapped by a demon, his body could process the sensations of the world around him far more clearly. He tried to breathe, but the air itself felt stale, like trying to inhale smoke that never quite left your lungs. The kind of air that felt old. Stagnant. Unnatural.
Closing his eyes, he let out a series of uncomfortable coughs.
It wasn't just the air, it was the place itself.
He wasn't one to talk about the "energy of the Earth," but he could feel it all around him. There was an almost static-like feeling in the air, tickling his nerves and raising goose bumps on his arms.
His hand throbbed with pain, but as he lifted it up, he noticed something strange. The bones shattered just moments before were… healed? He felt confused and uneasy as he sat up slowly, cautiously glancing around the dim room. Then, he froze.
Across from him, partially hidden behind what looked like an old wooden bed, was a pair of eyes staring silently at him.
Instantly, Alex scooted backward until his back hit the wall, his eyes darting frantically around the room in search of anything to use as a weapon. There wasn't much to find. In fact, aside from the stone walls and floor, the place reminded him oddly of a bedroom, like some twisted version of a medieval castle chamber.
For several long moments, Alex and the pair of eyes simply stared at each other, neither willing to break the silence first. Finally, swallowing down the lump in his throat, Alex gathered just enough courage to speak.
"Hello?" He called, his voice embarrassingly shaky.
There was no immediate answer, just a silence that stretched on until he felt nearly suffocated by it. Just when he was certain he'd imagined the entire thing, the owner of the eyes moved ever-so-slightly forward, clearly as frightened as he was.
"Hello?" Came a small, timid voice. A girl's voice, young and nervous, with a faint accent he couldn't quite place. Russian, maybe?
Alex stared in surprise, suddenly unsure of himself.
"Are you… are you a kid?"
There was a long pause, and then slowly, hesitantly, the girl stepped out into the faint light spilling from the room's lone flickering lantern. She was young, very young, probably under thirteen, with messy golden hair framing her face and wide blue eyes fixed nervously on him.
It was one thing to be brought into a situation like this, but for a kid to be here… If she were anything like him, then she had probably experienced months of psychological torture from "Mr. Ghost."
And, judging by her messy appearance, she probably had been here for at least a few days longer than he had. Or, well, at least he hoped it was only a few days.
"Did that demon hurt you?" Alex asked softly, raising both his hands to show he meant no harm.
No one deserved to have their innocence ruined, especially not by being dragged to hell by a demon.
The girl's eyes widened at the mention of the demon, and she quickly shook her head, her tangled hair bouncing slightly. After a pause, she took a small, shaky breath, clearly trying her best to be brave.
"Belasco." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible. "His name is Belasco."
Alex frowned slightly, rolling the name around in his mind. It sounded familiar, though he couldn't quite place why. His life would be far easier if he knew more about the Marvel world. But he had to deal with the information he had.
"Belasco…" He repeated quietly. "Okay. How long have you been here?"
She tilted her head, thinking for a moment.
"Two weeks, maybe?" She murmured, taking a tentative step closer to him, her eyes searching his face with cautious curiosity.
Alex let out a humorless chuckle, trying, and mostly failing, to lighten the mood.
"Guess we're cellmates now. Demon dungeon edition." He said softly, trying to give her a friendly smile.
The girl blinked in confusion, tilting her head again.
"What's a… cellmate?"
"It's, uh…" Alex paused, realizing the absurdity of explaining it to a frightened child. "Never mind." He sighed, finally allowing his tense body to relax slightly as he leaned back against the cool stone wall. "Do you know what's going on here?"
The girl stared at him quietly, clearly debating what to say. Finally, she shrugged, her eyes lowered slightly as she spoke again.
"Belasco said… he's going to help me get stronger." She said, though her uncertain tone made it clear she wasn't convinced. "And he promised if we help him, he'll take us back home."
Her voice wavered on "home," like she didn't quite believe in the word anymore.
"Right." He muttered, stopping himself from telling her that he himself didn't believe that was going to happen. Then, after a few moments of awkward silence, he asked. "And this Belasco… what exactly does he want?"
She shrugged again helplessly. Then, as if remembering something, she reached up to her neck and pulled out a delicate golden necklace from beneath her worn clothes.
"He gave me this." She said softly, stepping closer and holding it out toward him. Alex leaned forward, studying it. It was a small golden pendant, intricately carved with a pentagram. Embedded within were two tiny blood-red gems on two of the corners of the pentagram, glinting ominously in the dim light.
"Two gems?" He asked, suddenly uneasy. "Does it mean something?"
She nodded slightly, eyes fixed nervously on the necklace.
"Belasco made one with my help, but after you came…" She trailed off, glancing away uneasily. "He added another."
Alex swallowed hard, feeling a cold dread settle into his gut. Whatever Belasco wanted, it certainly couldn't be good. He glanced once more at the necklace, then back into the girl's wide, anxious eyes. Taking a breath, he forced himself to offer a reassuring smile, more confident than he felt.
"I'm Alex." He said gently. "What's your name?"
"Illyana." She replied softly, voice trembling slightly but holding his gaze. After a pause, she added, almost as an afterthought, "Did… did my brother send you? Or Professor Xavier?"
Her tone wasn't hopeful, just quietly curious. Alex's heart sank as he heard the question, because the truth was, he wasn't sure he could even save himself. However, the mention of Xavier did put a few more pieces in place.
First was the name Illyana, which, if he was being honest, didn't give him much to work with. If she were a hero or villain, or meant to become one in the future, then maybe her nickname would tell him exactly who she was. For now, he would just assume she was another random Xavier student who got kidnapped for a weekly comic issue.
Then, there was the second part.
He knew Azazel, who was a red demon looking mutant, just like Belasco. Maybe Belasco was somehow connected to Azazel, and by extension, the X-Men. It made sense with the teleportation powers he assumed he had. After all, how else would he have grabbed him from his lab back at home?
However, that also brings with it a barrage of different questions. Questions he didn't want to get carried away with at the moment.
In the end, either the X-Men would come to rescue them, or…. Or well, they might actually be screwed. But looking into her innocent, hopeful eyes, he knew he couldn't tell her that.
"No… they didn't." He answered quietly, giving her the best reassuring smile he could muster. "But if we stick together, maybe we can both figure a way out."
Illyana nodded slowly, finally stepping closer until she was standing directly in front of him. After another hesitant pause, she sat carefully next to him against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly.
"I'm glad you're here." She whispered softly after a long silence, her voice barely more than a breath. "I don't… I don't like being alone here."
Alex took a deep breath, glancing around the dark, unfamiliar room once more before quietly nodding in agreement.
"Yeah." He murmured, exhaustion and fear slowly giving way to a stubborn determination he didn't know he had. "Neither do I."
If he was being honest, maybe this would have been his breaking point. Blowing himself up to end it all didn't sound so terrible at the moment. Better that than waiting around for a demon to do whatever it had planned.
But he couldn't. If he didn't have a reason before, he certainly had one now. His gaze drifted sideways to Illyana, who was clutching her knees tightly, visibly trembling. Hesitating slightly, he reached out and gently ruffled her messy golden hair. The gesture felt awkward, clumsy even, but Illyana didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned a little closer, just slightly, as if drawing comfort from it.
'Alright.' He thought, squaring his shoulders. He had to at least pretend to be ok, if he wasn't, then that would probably only make her even more worried.
Maybe it was shameful, but it did cross his mind to end both of their lives to spare themselves from what they might experience. But he quickly shoved that thought aside. He couldn't bring himself to hurt a kid. More importantly, he couldn't let himself abandon one.
Clearing his throat to steady his voice, he looked around their gloomy prison.
"I'm gonna try exploring the room." Alex said, forcing a faint smile as he rose to his feet. "Wanna help? Maybe you could tell me more about your brother while we search around. He sounds pretty cool."
Illyana's blue eyes widened slightly, brightening with cautious hope. Slowly, she stood up as well, moving quietly next to him.
"My brother's super strong." She began softly, enthusiasm seeping into her voice bit by bit. "Piotr can turn himself into metal. His whole body, it turns shiny, like polished silver. One time, he picked up a tank! He didn't even try hard or anything. He just… lifted it up, like it weighed nothing."
"Does your brother have a nickname by any chance?" Alex asked, the description sounding a little too familiar.
"Uh-huh." Illyana nodded proudly. "They call him Colossus. But I just call him Piotr. He always used to carry me on his shoulders. He's super gentle, even though he could squish bad guys like bugs if he wanted."
She giggled faintly at the mental image, the soft sound strangely comforting in the otherwise oppressive room.
"He always reads me bedtime stories, too, even when I fall asleep early. I told him I'm probably too old for them now, but I think he likes reading to me anyway. Sometimes I think he stays up just to watch over me while I sleep."
"Sounds like a pretty awesome big brother." Alex replied, managing a small chuckle despite their grim surroundings. "Wish I had powers like his right about now. All I've got is my big brain."
"That's still good." She answered, trying to sound positive. "I don't have any powers right now either. But…"
"But?" Alex asked, turning to see her looking down at the ground and shifting her weight awkwardly.
"Belasco mentioned I would awaken my power with his help. And that… that maybe if I trained, I would be able to help him faster. And then we could go home."
Hearing her, Alex froze, the gears in his mind spinning.
"Did… did Belasco mention why he wanted me?" Alex asked, trying to hide his emotions in his voice.
"No." Illyana answered with a shake of her head.
One of the most clichéd reasons a villain had for being a villain was that they wanted to conquer Earth. Or, well, to conquer whatever planet or area happened to be in their way. At least, that was the super simplified version of it.
Assuming Belasco had a similar goal, there was a chance that he was trapped in the hell they were in. And the reason he had brought them here was to escape.
Was he doing a bit of mental gymnastics and a ton of speculation to reach that conclusion? Yeah, probably, but right now, speculation was all he had to work with.
If his hunch was right, that brought up another crucial question: Why Illyana? And why him?
Maybe Belasco could sense mutant potential or something. Illyana was Colossus's sister, after all, maybe she had some latent ability connected to teleportation or portals. Sure, that idea was still a huge leap in logic, but at least it fit the circumstances.
But then, why was Belasco drawn to him?
The simplest explanation was the Omniversal travel. It wasn't exactly subtle, throwing yourself across realities. In a universe like Marvel's, filled to the brim with cosmic entities and dimensional threats, his arrival probably hadn't gone unnoticed. Maybe he'd made a splash, like ripples in some kind of cosmic pond, enough to make him a target for someone like Belasco.
The problem, though, was that Alex himself couldn't freely travel between dimensions. Not without another omniversal machine, and building one again wasn't even possible right now. He barely understood how the first one worked, let alone how to replicate it.
He sighed quietly, shaking his head. Overthinking wasn't going to help, not yet, at least. He needed more concrete information first.
They walked quietly through the room for a bit, carefully inspecting the dusty shelves and worn-out furniture scattered around. But aside from dust and disappointment, there wasn't much else to find. No helpful books, no hidden tools, not even something sharp he could improvise into a weapon.
To break the heavy silence, Alex glanced at Illyana and gently asked. "Do you know any of the other mutants at the mansion?" He figured keeping her talking might help ease both their nerves. Plus, the realization that Colossus had a sister he knew nothing about had reminded him just how limited his Marvel knowledge outside of the movies he had seen really was.
"You mean the other X-Men?" Illyana nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.
"Yeah. Wanna tell me about some of them?" Alex asked as he moved over to a large wooden bookshelf, gripping its edge and straining to drag it away from the wall, hoping something useful might have slipped behind it.
Illyana considered it quietly for a second, then her eyes brightened slightly.
"Ororo's really pretty." She began softly, a bit of excitement creeping into her voice. "She has white hair, and her eyes glow whenever she gets angry. Sometimes the wind listens to her even before she says anything. It rains when she's sad sometimes. But when she's fighting, she can shoot lightning, like real lightning from the sky."
"That's pretty awesome." Alex admitted, smiling faintly despite the frustration of finding nothing behind the shelf.
She nodded eagerly, continuing.
"And there's Kurt, he's blue, fuzzy, and smells like church candles. He actually kinda looks like Belasco. He talks kinda funny, and when he teleports he makes a little 'bamf!' noise. He scared me the first time, but now it's funny."
Alex chuckled lightly, mentally noting the details. Illyana seemed happy to talk, at least.
"Logan smells like old socks and metal, and he can pull out metal claws from his hands." She said with a mischievous grin. "He's always grumpy. But one time he gave me candy, and when I got scared during an escape drill, he sat down with me and told me he'd bite any shadows that tried anything."
"Really?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really." Illyana grinned. "But, like, he said it. You know?"
That made both of them chuckle a little..
"Anyone else?" Alex prompted gently.
Her smile faded just a little, her eyes drifting downward.
"There's Rogue, she's kinda scary, but in a cool way. She doesn't like people getting too close, but she'd gave me her gloves when I forgot mine one time during winter and pretend it didn't matter. I think she's really lonely, but she'd never say it. Not even to Kitty."
"Who's Kitty?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"Ah, Kitty is really nice! She talks a lot, like, a lot a lot, but her stories are always funny. She always smells like vanilla lip gloss. I like her."
Then, after stopping for a moment to think, she continued.
"There's Scott. He's nice, but kinda serious. And Jean… she's nice, but sometimes she looks like she's thinking really hard about stuff far away. Piotr said that it was because she could 'hear too much' and it gave her headaches."
Alex hesitated, sensing a heavier subject there, and decided not to push it. Jean Grey was someone he wasn't quite ready to unpack yet, either. He knew enough about the Phoenix not to want to get anywhere near her.
Illyana's footsteps slowed, and she spoke again, quieter this time.
"I miss them all. But Piotr… I miss him the most."
Alex's heart twisted slightly at her words. He knelt down beside her, meeting her wide-eyed, hopeful gaze directly.
"We'll get you back to him." He said firmly, more confident than he truly felt. "Somehow."
"Promise?" She looked up at him with wide eyes.
Alex froze for a moment… then crouched beside her, meeting her gaze.
"I promise to try."
~A/N~
First of all, I wanted to put a disclaimer, nothing is gonna happen between Illyana and Belasco. I'm using my author powers to state that immediately. I know in the comics there might be some subtext about it, but yeah, no. That's hella messed up.
Also, we finally get to meet Mr. Ghost! Did anyone guess it? I put little hints about it in the past few chaps, but like, they were hella minor lol. The missing student in chapter 4(which actually happens after Alex gets kidnapped too just from the way time works in Limbo.) Then also, Victoria Montesi being referenced, implying that Mr. Ghost was somewhat "demonic"/evil.
Beta Reader: @Basilisk, @Kiyan Tribe.
Like ReplyReport Reactions:DarkthShadow, TheMetalloid, UnwillingParticipant and 172 othersBonVoyageJul 30, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Ch 8: Magic and Fear. New View contentBonVoyage"When in doubt, go with the flow."Aug 5, 2025Add bookmark#64(I prefer posting on Sundays, so I'll just post today, and then next week I'll do it on Sunday. Ideally I'll get it so that I can post all my stories on Sunday lol.)
— –Alexander Montclair– —
He was tired, bone-deep, soul-weary tired. The kind that sank in past the skin and made even thinking feel like dragging himself through wet concrete.
They had been trapped in that room for days now. No windows. No clocks. Just the same dim, flickering glow of the torches and the silent, suffocating sense of being observed. If before it had felt like there were eyes on him, now it was worse. Now it felt like someone was hovering right behind him, just out of reach, breathing against the back of his neck.
It was maddening. More than that, it was exhausting. And for all he wanted to think of a solution, create something to get him out, he had nothing. No tools, no materials, no freedom.
Even the food that they delivered to them felt like just another way Belasco was torturing him.
He always brought them two meals. A lavish meal, and one that appeared to be some sort of mashed dog food. At first, he and Illyana had tried to split the edible stuff. He figured if they rationed it right, they could make it work. But Belasco, of course, had thought of that too.
"Only one may partake in each plate." A note that had come with the first meal had said, written with some annoyingly perfect penmanship.
Alex had stared at it for a long moment, hoping it was just another mind game. He wasn't sure if it was magic, some sort of mutant trick, or just Belasco screwing with them for sport, but the rule held. The moment Illyana took a bite out of the steak in the first plate, the vegetables in Alex's hand crumbled to dust.
There was no cheating it. No clever workaround. Just a choice, made fresh every time they were fed.
He'd tried the slop that first day, just to see if it was survivable, but part of him wished he hadn't. The texture was like wet cement, and the taste reminded him of mold, metal, and something he couldn't name but really wished he couldn't taste. It lingered in the mouth, long after he stopped chewing.
Illyana had suggested they take turns eating the actually palatable meal. The offer was incredibly tempting, but in the end he had rejected it. Part of him wished he didn't care, but in the end, he didn't feel comfortable letting her eat the wet mush.
At least it kept him going, if barely.
Who knows, maybe one day he would be able to delude himself into thinking that the slop actually tasted good. Or, maybe his taste buds would give up on him. Honestly, he hoped for either.
"And then, boom!" She said with a grin, throwing her hands into the air as if miming an explosion would make it more exciting. "He went flying, like, across the whole courtyard. Rahne laughed so hard she turned back mid-shift."
He blinked, pulled from his spiral of thoughts. She was grinning again, clearly enjoying her own story more than he was. Another tale from her time with the X-Men, training exercises. That's what most of her stories were.
Though still, at least his plan had worked. She had been a mess when he had first arrived, and he thought that getting her talking would help her get her mind out of the situation they were in.
For a moment, he had hoped she would be able to give him a bit more insight as to the world of mutants. Maybe some politics, bigger picture stuff, but she was just a kid. She didn't have access to any of the real important things yet. And with her brother sheltering her… yeah, the most she knew was the gossip in the mansion.
Turns out Scott Summers has a crush on Jean Grey. Crazy, right? Who would have guessed.
"How about you?" She asked suddenly, turning her attention on him with an eager tilt of her head.
"Hm?" He mumbled, glancing up. Her blue eyes were wide, curious. "Not much to tell. Unless you care about science."
"Uh, yeah... I love science." She said quickly, eyes darting to the side. She was clearly lying, but still, he could appreciate the effort.
"Sure you do." He said, smiling faintly. "Alright then, where to start? Maybe I'll teach you enough to build your own bombs when you get back to Xavier's."
"Bombs?!" She asked excitedly.
"Sorry." Alex blinked, then laughed. "I meant batteries. Definitely batteries. Totally harmless, probably school-approved batteries."
For a moment, just one, they both sat in that fragile bubble of something close to normal. The stale air felt a little lighter. The silence wasn't quite so loud.
Maybe Belasco felt that, since it didn't take long for the moment to pass.
A low, rhythmic stomp echoed through the corridor beyond their door. The sound grew louder with each step, deliberate, heavy, like something too big for this place was coming straight for them. Then, with a metallic grind, the door that trapped them inside creaked open.
Standing in the doorway was a hulking, monstrous figure, at least eight feet tall, with purple skin and a single jagged white horn protruding from the center of his forehead.
"Come." The demon ordered as he looked at both of them.
Alex's fists clenched at his sides. Every part of him wanted to resist, to lash out, to spit in the bastard's face just for the satisfaction. But he knew better. Resistance right now would earn him nothing but another beating. Pain for the sake of pain.
So he swallowed it down. Just until he could figure out a way to make it mean something.
Maybe he could earn Belasco's trust, and use that trust to create a bomb so massive that it would blow them all away before he had a chance to teleport it away like before. Something to make the nuclear bombs of his world look like kid's toys.
He stood slowly, Illyana rising beside him. Neither of them spoke as they followed the demon down the corridor.
Alex stayed sharp, eyes sweeping every corner, every hallway, every torch on the wall. This was the first time they'd been outside that damned room since arriving, and he wasn't about to waste it. He tried to memorize everything, the direction they turned, the layout of the stone halls, the faint glow of sigils etched into the walls.
After several minutes, they stopped before a pair of massive, ornate doors, carved with symbols he didn't recognize, probably some infernal language or magic rune. The demon opened them with one hand and shoved them forward.
Inside, Belasco sat lazily on a throne of black stone and bone, perched on a raised dais. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his sharp features and horns. He grinned the moment he saw them, resting his chin on his knuckles like he'd been waiting just to savor this.
"There they are." He said, voice warm and mocking as he waved a hand. The doors slammed shut behind them with a deep, echoing boom. "I trust you two have been enjoying your stay, yes?"
Neither Alex nor Illyana answered.
Alex was angry, scared, hungry, and tired, if he opened his mouth, he might just simply lose it and start shouting at the demon. And Illyana… she was quiet, shrinking behind him, her fingers trembling slightly as they clutched the edge of his sleeve.
Belasco let out a disappointed sigh and tilted his head.
"No, no." He said in that insufferable condescending tone, like he was scolding a child. "Illyana, darling, and here I thought you'd been so well-behaved. What did I teach you?" His eyes glinted. "When I ask… you answer."
Before either of them could react, the purple demon behind them struck their backs.
Alex barely registered the impact before he hit the ground hard, the stone bruising his ribs as Illyana fell beside him. She let out a sharp cry, but then they were both silenced, not by fear, but by the chains.
Crimson chains that burst from the floor like serpents, wrapping around their wrists, necks, ankles, cold and alive, digging into skin. Every movement only made them tighten.
"Wait!" Alex gasped, the word tearing out of his throat. As if in response, the chains pulsed, then loosened, just enough to let him breathe.
Panting, he looked up. Belasco was still seated, still smiling. Watching. Amused.
"Wait?" The demon repeated, rising from his throne with a slow, theatrical grace. "Tsk, tsk. Don't you know? Misbehaving children must be punished. Otherwise, they forget their place."
Glancing at Ilyana beside him, Alex forced himself to speak, chest heaving.
"The food… it was… delicious… thank you, Be—"
The moment the sound of that name left his lips, the chains snapped tight around his throat, crushing the air from his lungs. He choked, gagging against the sudden force. Belasco arched an eyebrow and brought a finger to his ear, feigning curiosity.
"Hmm? What was that?" He asked, voice syrupy with mock offense. "Did I hear you correctly? Were you about to say my name? My name? And tell me, little whelp…"
He descended the steps of his throne slowly, boots echoing against the marble.
"Who gave you permission to speak it?"
The chains tightened instantly. Alex felt the pressure crush against his windpipe, sharp and suffocating. The world began to blur. And just when he thought the darkness would pull him under, the bindings loosened again, suddenly, violently, forcing a ragged gasp from his lips.
"Ah, look at me." Belasco said lightly, chuckling as if it were all some grand joke he was playing at his own expense. "Getting ahead of myself again. That's terribly rude of me." He stopped just a step away from Alex now, his towering form casting a long shadow over both him and Illyana.
With a flick of his hand, the crimson chains hissed and slithered back into the ground, melting into the stone as though they'd never been there at all.
Alex coughed, his throat raw, trying to catch his breath. Illyana hadn't moved from her spot beside him. She was trembling slightly, her eyes flickering between him and the monster that stood over them.
Then Belasco crouched. Just low enough to look Alex in the eye.
"Still." He said softly, with a mock sincerity that sent a chill down Alex's spine. "I must commend you for what you've done. Keeping little Illyana well-fed. Sacrificing your own comfort, your own strength, for hers. Truly touching. It almost melts my cold, black heart."
His smile widened, just enough to show his teeth.
"Now, Illyana." Belasco called out, voice softer now, almost gentle, as if nothing cruel had just taken place. "Why don't you stand up? We have work to do."
He extended a clawed hand toward her, helping the girl to her feet with the care of a doting parent. The contrast was enough to make Alex's stomach twist.
"I did promise to help you grow stronger, didn't I?" Belasco continued, brushing a strand of hair from Illyana's face with unsettling familiarity. "You're no use to anyone as you are now. And I'm sure your dear family is missing you terribly. I, personally, would hate to keep them waiting."
Illyana gave a trembling nod. Her hand clutched the hem of her sleeve as she cast a glance toward Alex, searching for something, reassurance, strength, anything to hold onto. From where he knelt, still recovering from the chains, Alex managed to offer a small reassuring nod.
"Illyana." Belasco said, sounding disappointed. "I helped you to your feet didn't I? What do you say?"
"Thank…. Thank you." She answered with a shaky voice.
"Good." He finally said, turning to Alex with a smile. "Perhaps you'll learn some manners too in due time. Now, you too, come."
At his words, Alex felt the purple demon grab him by the neck, lifting him to his feet before pushing him forward to follow. Alex was still grasping at his neck, where he could still feel the pain left behind by the chains, but he simply followed as commanded.
Even in his haze, he noticed something. A difference.
The way Belasco had addressed Illyana, with patience, with something resembling affection, and the way he treated him like an insect that hadn't quite earned the right to be crushed. Maybe it was just her age. Maybe Belasco was showing restraint because she was still a child.
But deep down, Alex knew better. No demon shows kindness without a reason.
He was grooming her, manipulating her. He could see it in the way Belasco spoke, the cadence of his voice, the false softness. She was young. Vulnerable. Easier to twist into what he wanted. And if Illyana's powers were tied to this place, to magic…
Then maybe she was exactly what Belasco needed. Or worse… maybe she was what he wanted.
He shoved that thought away before it could finish forming. That was a door he didn't want to open.
Belasco turned and made his way toward a black stone altar off to the side of the throne room, carved with arcane runes that pulsed faintly with a red light.
"Illyana." He said, without turning. "There is potential inside you to become a sorceress like me. There is magic, raw, unshaped, and powerful. And this realm is steeped in it. It's in the stone, in the air, in you. I want to help you reach into it."
He rested his hand atop the altar, the runes glowing brighter under his touch.
"You see, the magic of Limbo can do more than empower. It transforms. It reshapes the soul. Once you've been touched by its essence, tainted by it, only then will you understand what real power is."
Ah, there it was.
He couldn't say he understood the magic, he was a scientist, not a sorcerer. But from the way Belasco had spoken it, he was sure that Illyana would slowly become corrupted by this realm.
All magic came with a price.
Alex could only hope that Illyana would be able to resist whatever price that might be.
"Now you." Belasco said, his voice snapping him out of his thoughts. The demon turned toward Alex and took a few slow steps until they were face to face.
Without warning, Belasco reached down and grabbed Alex's face, his clawed fingers pressing into his cheeks and jaw, sharp enough to draw blood if they wanted to.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Belasco asked, voice filled with irritation. It wasn't theatrical anymore. It was real. Genuine. He was annoyed, for a reason Alex wasn't even sure he understood.
"You're useless to me as you are now." He hissed, his claws pressing in just enough to break the skin. Alex flinched, but didn't look away.
Then Belasco's gaze shifted, his eyes glowing faintly as they dropped to Alex's chest, scanning him, reading him. Something passed across his face. Confusion. Disgust. Frustration.
Then it vanished. The smile returned. That ever-present, smug, predator's smile.
"Kid." He said, almost amused, "you like to play the hero, don't you?"
"No." Alex answered.
"No?" Belasco echoed, sounding truly amused now. He chuckled under his breath, then turned his attention to both of them, Alex and Illyana, before his arms spread in a grand, theatrical gesture.
"How about this?" He said. "Let's make it a little more interesting." He took a slow step back, letting go of Alex's face. "I need to motivate my student. Push her. Make her try. Otherwise, I fear she might just coast through all of this without really giving me her best effort."
His smile stretched wider, teeth gleaming.
"So, tell me, boy. When Illyana messes up… who should I punish? You…" He pointed one clawed finger toward Alex before turning it to point to Illyana "...or her?"
Before answering, he looked at Illyana.
She was frozen, her hands curled into fists, her breathing shallow. The fear in her eyes was plain. Not just fear for herself… but fear for him. She knew what Belasco was doing. She was smart enough to see the trap. That made it worse.
After a moment, Alex returned his eyes to Belasco, whose eyes were almost glowing with delight.
"Me." Alex finally answered, earning a chuckle from the demon.
"You heard that, Illyana?" he said, turning his attention back to her. "Your friend here has volunteered. Such a noble little soul. That means every time you fail, every time you fall short, he suffers in your place."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with cruel joy.
"So you'd better try very hard… unless you want to see what happens when I really stop being nice."
— –Tandy Bowen– —
"I already told you, I'm busy." Her mom snapped, not even bothering to look up from where she was rifling through her purse. "Besides, I've already seen you dance."
"That was when I was five!" Tandy shouted, her voice rising before she could stop herself. "You haven't seen me do anything since—"
She stopped cold in her words as she saw her mother glare at her.
'Since dad left.'
They didn't talk about him. It was the line neither of them crossed. A rule carved in stone after their worst fight. After things had been said that couldn't be unsaid.
"Go to your room, Tandy." Her mom ordered as she turned and grabbed her coat off the hook. "I don't want to hear another word about it."
Still, Tandy didn't move.
"I'm leaving. I'll be back in a few days." Her mother added over her shoulder as she reached for the doorknob. "I'll bring you back a souvenir."
With that, she walked out, slamming the door behind her.
"Ahhh!" Tandy let out a cry of frustration, throwing her hands up as she watched her mom's car reverse out of the driveway and disappear down the street.
Same fight, different day.
She stood there for a few long seconds, heart pounding, rage simmering beneath the surface. She wanted to punch something. Break something. Instead, she just stood there, staring at the door like maybe, just maybe, her mom would come back and say she was sorry.
She didn't.
Tandy let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes.
'Why do I even try anymore?'
Her mom didn't care. Not really. She was always either too busy, too tired, or too distracted by whatever new man had wandered into her life. And her stepdad? He was a ghost. A silent placeholder with nothing to offer but awkward nods and occasional grunts of acknowledgment. No matter how many times he smiled or tried to play dad, it didn't matter. He wasn't him.
He wasn't her dad, the man who left without a word.
She exhaled slowly, then lowered herself to the floor, arms wrapped around her knees. But even in the quiet, one thought pulled her back from the spiral. Alexander.
She thought of him, the one person who never made her feel like she was in the way. The one who listened. Who looked at her like she mattered. Who leaned in when she spoke instead of turning away.
They'd met by accident, two broken people colliding in the street, but now it felt like fate. Like the universe had thrown her a lifeline at the exact moment she was about to sink.
He was unlike anyone she'd ever met.
When he first showed her the stuff he was working on, she couldn't even pretend to keep up. It was all technical jargon, theories that went right over her head. Quantum-this, dimensional-that. He was only a little younger than her, but it felt like he belonged in a lab coat surrounded by chalkboards and Nobel prizes, not sitting in a crumbling city like the rest of them.
But that didn't mean he was perfect, no. If anything, he was a complete dork.
Always overthinking everything, always stressing out over the smallest details in his tech projects, like the world would end if one wire was misaligned. He could ramble for hours about code and circuits and still somehow miss the bigger picture.
Still, as much as she used to dream about running away, cutting ties, living on her own, no one to answer to, being around him made her rethink things. Maybe being alone wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
Maybe it was the size of his house. Or maybe it was the quiet way he spoke about his past. She'd never really realized it, how truly lonely being alone was.
Yeah, she knew, revolutionary stuff. Real groundbreaking.
"Breaking news: Isolation leads to loneliness. Film at eleven."
But seriously… being with him forced her to see it. To actually look at how hollow things had become. She had gotten so used to being ignored, of people wanting things from her, money, favors, silence, her body, that she built walls so high even she forgot how to climb them.
And in that silence, she'd forgotten how good it could feel to be seen. To be heard. To care, and be cared for in return.
It felt terrible to admit, especially knowing everything he'd been through, but sometimes… she was jealous of him.
His parents were dead. That should've been the end of it. But when he talked about them, it wasn't with the same bitterness she held in her chest. There was light there. Warmth.
His parents had only met due to a chance encounter while his mom was studying in America, just two passing strangers in a university.
His mom had been a well-known archaeologist from Egypt, which explained the cat statue outside of his house. He didn't remember much of her, she'd died when he was still small, but he remembered her voice. The way she'd read him ancient myths before bed. Stories about gods, monsters, and kings from her home. Those had stuck with him
And his dad? His dad had been everything.
They'd spent every spare second together, tinkering with gadgets, dreaming up ridiculous inventions. Half the house had probably been rewired or repurposed thanks to their little projects. Every corner had a story behind it, a reason, a memory.
But when his dad passed, Alex had cleared most of it out.
He said it made the silence easier.
Still, even with them gone, there was something different about the way he spoke. Like the past hurt, but it also meant something. And that was what made her jealous. Not the loss, not the loneliness, but the fact that he'd had something worth missing.
She glanced down at her phone, her thumb hesitating just a second before she tapped his name. It rang a few times, but in the end, it went straight to voicemail.
"Hmm…" She let out a quiet grumble, more annoyed than worried, at least for now, as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall.
He's probably buried in the lab again.
That was usually where he disappeared to when he started ignoring calls. When something got into his head, he could lose hours, sometimes entire nights, just chasing after a problem. Maybe he'd finally gotten that battery design to stabilize. He'd been ranting about it non-stop the last time they spoke.
Still. She didn't feel like waiting around here. Even if he wasn't free to hang out, his house was better than hers. At least she didn't feel like a prisoner over there.
She grabbed her shoes, laced them up, and jogged out the door. The streetlights buzzed overhead as she moved, casting long shadows behind her. The route was second nature by now, so she ran until she reached the big statue of the cat goddess that watched over his porch.
When she got to the door, she didn't hesitate, she had her own key. Nagging him into giving her one had been a process, but worth it. She liked the way it felt, being trusted like that.
Letting herself in, she took a slow, deep breath. The scent of solder and copper still hung faintly in the air, familiar, oddly comforting. It always smelled like he'd just been here.
"Alex?" She called out softly, out of habit more than hope.
No answer.
She made her way through the narrow hallway toward his lab, already half-preparing to be shooed out when he saw her poking around. But when she opened the door, she stopped short.
Empty.
The lab was dark and quiet, the monitors still on but idle. No tools humming, no whiteboard crammed with frantic scrawl. No Alex hunched over a circuit board, muttering to himself like a mad scientist.
She frowned and pulled out her phone again, dialing.
Voicemail.
"Right…" She muttered, more to herself than anything, trying to push away the creeping chill curling at the base of her spine. "Probably over at Stark Tower."
That happened sometimes. Some late project, some emergency test run he forgot to text her about. Totally normal. Right?
Right?
Still wrapped in her unease, she wandered to the couch, grabbing the blanket he always left draped over the back. It still smelled like him, faint traces of coffee, metal, something sharp and electric she could never quite name.
She sank into the cushions, pulling the blanket over her shoulders, and flicked on the TV just to fill the silence.
'He'll come back. He always does.'
But he didn't.
She'd only meant to doze for a bit. Just long enough to stop overthinking. But when she woke up, the sky was already a dull grey outside the window. The clock blinked 3:42 AM, and the house was still empty.
She sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes, disoriented. For a second, she expected to hear the door creak open. His voice muttering some excuse about time getting away from him. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the fridge and the soft static from the muted television.
She reached for her phone again. Called.
Voicemail.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, unsure if she should try one more time or if that would just make her feel worse.
'He did mention wanting to move.' She thought, the memory creeping in like a whisper she didn't want to hear.
But… he wouldn't have left without saying something.
Right?
He wouldn't just disappear on her. Not like that. Not after everything they'd shared. He'd promised her.
But maybe… maybe he lied.
Maybe he got sick of her and just didn't know how to say it. Maybe all her clinging, all her dumb moods and messes were too much, and this was his way of finally cutting her off. Clean break. No drama.
She swallowed hard. Her stomach twisted.
He had been the first to tell her she wasn't a burden. That he needed her.
But maybe that was just something people said to make you feel better before they left.
The first time he told her he might move, she had overreacted, okay, maybe more than overreacted. She'd blown up his phone, showed up at his door at midnight, barely holding it together. But it wasn't just about him moving.
It was the thought of being left behind.
Again.
But even so… that wouldn't have been enough to make him vanish.
Right?
"No, no…" She whispered to herself, shaking her head. "He wouldn't have just… left."
Her eyes flicked around the room, trying to find something, anything, that proved she was right. And that's when she remembered the lab. All of his gear was still there. He wouldn't have abandoned that. Not unless he planned to come back. Not unless something stopped him.
She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to her feet. She wandered back into the lab, just to be sure. Just to see it with her own eyes again.
The place was still exactly how it was the night before. Tools on the desk. Notes scattered. Half a sandwich sitting on a plate next to a cooling mug of coffee that had long since gone cold.
She stood there, staring, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
He was coming back.
He had to.
Maybe he fell asleep in one of the side rooms at Stark Tower. Maybe he got pulled into some meeting and lost track of time. Maybe something came up and he forgot to charge his phone. There were so many explanations, normal ones, boring ones.
But the longer she waited… The harder it became to believe any of them.
She tried to sit down. Tried to watch something dumb and distracting. Tried to sleep. But every creak in the walls made her sit up. Every car passing outside made her jump.
And still, the sun rose and set again. Morning turned to afternoon. Afternoon slid into dusk. And then night fell once more.
The house was still empty.
He still wasn't back.
And no matter how many times she called, it still went straight to voicemail.
Beta Reader: @Basilisk.
~A/N~