Weapon XH II
As the two walked down the hall they continued to discuss there primary project.
“I noticed from your notes you used a serrated edge on this weapons blade, care to explain why?” the general asked as he nodded to one of the passing security staff.
“Unlike Weapon X this Weapon is not designed to go up against military targets, this Weapon was designed for extermination of the genetic aberrations, including the wayward Weapon X.” the scientist explained as if talking about a recent dry spell. “One of the most common genetic deviants we have managed to isolate is the advanced healing factor in one form or another, the serrated edge while decreasing it’s effectiveness on metal or armored targets makes cuts made against flesh over sixty five times more difficult to heal.”
Any continuation to the conversation was put on hold as a muffled ‘Thump’ heralded the fading of the lights before the dull red glow of emergency lighting kicked in.
The two stood in shock for several seconds before the loudspeaker blared out confirmation of the impossible.
“WE ARE UNDER ATTACK; I REPEAT WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! SECURITY TO ALL LEVELS, SECURITY TO ALL….” The loudspeaker squealed once and went silent as the invading troops swarmed into the control room.
The two looked at each other for a long moment before the walls around them erupted as strategically placed sonic charges crumbled them to dust allowing admittance to the armed and armored troops.
In moments the base and all its defenders where neutralized.
Willow stared at the screen in shock.
*Again, a secure facility belonging to an as yet unknown group was broken up today in the small California town of Sunnydale, we don’t have any hard evidence at this time, but it seems to be dedicated to the torture of and experimentation on mutants.
The leaders of this base seem to be the ex-general John Greene and psychologist Sheila Rosenberg. Dr. Rosenberg is seen here being escorted into a military transport. Earlier this as yet unknown young man was removed under tight security, his destination was not disclosed.*
The rest faded into a blur as Willow stared in shock at the picture of her mother in handcuffs and Xander being transported on a medical gurney.
The same Xander that had been missing and presumed dead for the last three months. Three months in which her mother had known exactly where he was, three months where her mother was doing God only knew what to her lifelong friend.
Willow needed answers. Finally blinking through the tears she stood and headed for her computer.
“Yeah what.” The voice growled over the line.
The man making the call steadied himself before attempting to explain this before the man on the other side decided to take matters into his own hands. //Or claws.// he corrected himself before responding.
“They made another Weapon.” He said simply as he heard the breathing stop on the other end of the line.
“Where are they.” The voice said, a few octaves lower and more deadly than before.
“They’re being dealt with, the problem isn’t that they tried, it’s that they succeeded. We have a young boy that’s going to be going through hell… we need to know if you’re going to be able to help him or if we should try to muddle through this ourselves.”
After several minutes of thought the man on the other end finally made his decision. “Bring him to Xavier’s, I’ll do what I can.”
Moving to hang up the phone the man was stopped by one growled word.
Lifting the receiver to his ear again he listened carefully as one of the few survivors of the Weapon program slowly composed himself.
“Make sure they pay for this… or I swear that I will.”
The first thing Xander noticed upon waking up was the pain.
He had once heard his grandfather complain about a ‘pain in his bones’ and if it felt anything like this he could understand how he would finally just stop fighting and give up.
It wasn’t until the warm numbing bliss fell over him that he realized he had been screaming. As the drug took effect and removed the pain it also had the effect of wrapping his head in a warm blanket of fuzz. Managing to open one eye he was able to semi focus on the redhead standing over him. He tried desperately to say something, but the drugs slowly pulled him away to painless oblivion.