NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK – NOW

There was something about the smell of these places that was so revolting and so enticing at the same time. It was a mixture of blood, sweat, and greed and it wafted through the air like a heavy cloud, choking the life out of everyone who set foot inside. Already the thunderous sounds of people cheering, hooting, and betting was in the air, mixing into a wondrous cacophony of sound and vibration that only a select few would love; one of those individuals was already slowly weaving her way through the crowd.

The illegal fight ring changed venues every week. They had to considering the city’s stance on public brawling and the promise to crack down on these kinds of activities. Lofty promises were made that these institutions would be brought down, but enough crooked cops and politicians and lawyers were around to make those words ring hollow. While the public cheered for action, in the shadows enough palms were being greased to ensure that business would continue as usual. Two weeks ago an abandoned train yard had been the setting, a week after that it the underground stacks of a recently firebombs library; today fists and blood would be occupied by the scent of seawater thanks to the near forgotten shipyard.

Nestled between abandoned and dilapidated structures was the ring itself. It was a large, dome-like structure made of chain link fence to ensure that no one would be allow to interfere from the outside, and no one was allowed to leave from the inside. Around this were several, towering containers, now emptied and decaying, but used as stadium-style seating for the hordes of ravenous fans who pumped their fists and cheered for blood; they were hungry for it.

In the structure itself, two individuals had already been set up to fight. One was a large, extremely pale and muscular man with a copper-red mohawk, beard, and chest covered in tattoos. He was dressed down to just his jeans and was pummeling the life out of a slightly smaller Hispanic man with a shaved head. The fight had been a bloody one, going on for almost thirty, possibly forty minutes now. A few broken teeth and the splattering of blood smeared the floor. It was a meat grinder.

As the last punches were delivered to the failing newcomer, another figure stood outside the ring. Smaller and petite, she was dressed only in black, form-fitting track pants and a silver hoodie with the hood up. Over her nose and mouth she wore a black scarf that left all but her piercing blue eyes covered. The fight on stage was beginning to wind down but the energy of the crowd proved that they wanted more. She would give that to them. Turning to find the announcing, the out-of-place woman slipped between the tightly knit crowd until she found him, a man with a sparkling sequin jacket, gelled up hair, and a s***eater grin. The second she came into view, the man’s grin faltered.

“S***, not you again…” he grumbled.

Agnes grinned from under her mask, her eyes twinkling with delight. ”You make it sound like I don’t make you money.” She paused. ”Put me in.”

“Ugh, come on, sweetheart,” the man grumbled. “You put everyone in the hospital and I lose fighters.”

”But you’ll make up for it in bets you collect,” Agnes reminded with a matter-of-fact air. ”Tell me I’m wrong.” The man stopped and stared at her before giving a hefty sigh. Agnes just smiled. ”Trust me,” she said as she turned back towards the cage. ”They have it coming anyways.”

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

”I know, hermano, I know…but they had it coming anyways…Yeah…yeah I know I don’t live up to that moral B.S. that you and your people run with but…yeah. I have her right here. Always in my sight…”

The 17 year old Agnes was scarcely paying attention at this point. Sitting on the patio of a coffee shop in Paris, the young woman kept her eyes away from her intimidating Uncle Blood and stared out over the streets. It was a warm day today, the warmest that she had felt so far in this city. They had only spent a few months in Paris but it really was the most beautiful she had seen in a long time. It was a shame that she didn’t get to enjoy it as much as the other people who wandered the city got to.

The young woman was reclining back in her seat, dark sunglasses over her eyes, a denim jacket over her shoulders, and jeans clinging to her blossoming frame. She was a beautiful young woman and received many a wandering eye from tourists and locals alike. It was both a blessing and a shame that she was so inexperienced in the field of wooing and intimacy. Spending the last several years on the run with her uncle had made the young woman lacking in some areas. A tragedy, surely.

Her head tilted back to her uncle, a thin but muscular man wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and black slacks. He brushed his medium length hair out of his eyes, sighing as he nodded and spoke on the phone with his half-brother. Agnes had never met the man but she knew that his name was Vicente and he and his brother didn’t always see eye-to-eye. What her half-uncle did, Agnes wasn’t sure about, but Uncle Blood seemed to think he was little more than a fool-hardy idealist, working with like-minded people for a better tomorrow. Sounded boring.

Keeping her mouth shut, Agnes picked up her glass of iced coffee and took a sip of the bitter brew. She remembered being made sick by black coffee and now it was the only way she could drink it. Feeling the bitterness course down her throat, she sighed as she turned away from her uncle who seemed to be arguing with the man over the phone. They were having a disagreement on whether it was safer for the two of them to stay with her half-uncle or remain on the run. At this point Agnes was so numb to being on the road that she really didn’t care.

Her eyes drifted across the patio to another table, there she spied a couple around her age, a young man and a young woman. They were sharing loving glances and stealing kisses from one another. She didn’t mean to observe them through her sunglasses but she couldn’t help it. Just gazing at them seemed to immediately pull her into thoughts that she was both confused and interested by. Briefly, and against her better judgement, her mind drifted and fantasied about the impossible – what she if were the one being kissed? What would that feel like? The thoughts made her teenage heart flutter briefly before the sound of footsteps drew her back to her uncle. The man sighed as he flopped down into the seat across from her.

He sat in silence for the longest time, sipping his hot coffee (the man could drink it hot in the middle of a firestorm) and glaring at the cellphone he had just set down. ”Ridiculous fool…” he grumbled as he drank. Agnes took this as a means to return to her daydreaming and staring into nothing…that is until he gently tapped the table in front of her.

”Hm? What?” she asked, shaken from her musings.

”Agnes. I said…we need to talk…”

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK – NOW

The crowd was pumped and absolutely ready for more blood to be spilled. Already they had seen Thomas, the Irish Hound, beat the ever-loving tar out of Carlos “The Barracuda” Delgado. It had been a lengthy match, one that had everyone on the edge of their seats. Thomas had been the reigning champ for the last few nights, easily out matching anyone who met him in the ring. He was massive and few that challenged him actually had the musculature to match. He was a juggernaut and it didn’t seem as if his winning streak would end soon.

The announcer, the same little man in the sequin jacket, sucked in a gulp of air as he pulled open the cage door and slipped inside. He raised his arms and cheered with the audience. He kept them pumped and ready for more as several attendees slipped into the cage and dragged out the fallen Barracuda, leading a smeared trail of blood in his wake. The announcer was a showman, though, and his undulating, salesman-like voice kept the crowd hungry for more.

“WASN’T that a match, ladies and gentlemen!?” he shouted excitedly. “The blood! The fists! It was pound for pound the greatest clash that we have seen yet!” The crowd cheered for more. “But it sounds like you are hungry for more! Are you hungry?!”

“Yeeaaaaah!”

“I saaaaaid…Are. You. HUNGRY?!”

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

“That’s what I THOUGHT you all said,” he laughed cheerily. “Well, what if I told all you fine ladies and gentlemen that that last match is nothing compared to what I have coming up next?” The energy pumping through the crowd was electric. Everyone was standing, pumping their fists into the air, shouting for more information. The announcer was only too happy to provide them what they lusted after.

Turning away from the crowd, he spied Thomas grinning wide and slamming his hands together, ready to rip apart whoever would be entering the cage next. His enthusiasm was appreciated but, as the announcer passed him and headed for the door, he silently uttered a prayer for Thomas. The man clearly had no idea what he was going up against so the announcer only hoped that the young, slip of a thing took it easy on him.

Clearing his throat, he proceeded. “Ladies and gents! I present you the next match up! Our reigning champ, Thomas the Irish Hooooouuuuunnnndd!!” He made a theatrical gesture towards the redheaded man who jumped in place, driven by the fervor of the crowd. He then pointed to the open door. “Against our challenger, the mystery, the sexy, the lethal…BLOOD!”

It was quite a sight to behold. Stepping into the ring, facing off against the 6’5 behemoth was a young woman of 5’5 and possessing a fine, slender figure. She was dressed more like she was out for a morning jog: tight track pants and silver-shaded hoodie, the only thing off about her appearance was the black mask that covered her nose and mouth. As she moved towards the center of the ring, turning to facing the confused, towering man, the silence that fell over the crowd was deafening. A few seconds later, the laughter that followed replaced all that.

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

Agnes didn’t say much of anything as she listened to her uncle talk. He explained that the phone conversation was indeed with his half-brother and, yes, they were arguing about what was the best situation for them. Uncle Vicente seemed to believe that their life on the road was needless, that the people he worked with in New York would be able to keep them safe. However Uncle Blood felt like it was pointless and it put too many people in danger and allowed too many to know about their location. The last thing that Uncle Blood wanted was to cause an unnecessary war; but it seemed that her half-uncle had gotten through to the man.

They had been on the run a couple of years now, something that Uncle Vicente didn’t seem to care for. Though the two of them had never seen eye-to-eye in the past, Vicente had never wanted his brother to go on the run with their young niece. But Agnes didn’t know this man, she didn’t know he was family, and if he were family, why did he allow what her parents put her through to happen? It took time and energy for her to trust Uncle Blood and now there was another mysterious uncle that had opinions as to her wellbeing? She wanted to tell him to **** off, herself.

But Uncle Blood seemed to have other ideas.

”I know, Ags. I know. I don’t like it much either but…for as much of an idealistic d*** as he is…he has a point.” Her uncled breathed a hefty sigh as he tiled his head down to face the table. ”The place he is…I don’t fit in. I never did. But…I think…it would be best if you lived there.”

Agnes narrowed her eyes. She pulled off her sunglasses as she glared at him. ”Me?” she paused. ”Wait…a-are you trying to ditch me? What? Am I some ****ing burden now?”

”Now hold on, missy…” the man attempted to interject. She didn’t let him.

”No! **** you!” she said as she stood up from the table. ”I didn’t ask you take me from my parents! I didn’t ask you to raise me in your crazed, survivalist life! And I didn’t ask to be taken on some globetrotting run from who-the-****-ever is chasing us! And now you’re dropping me?!” She shoved her chair towards the table, not caring about any commotion she made. The emotions were bubbling up. She couldn’t contain her voice anymore as she turned to storm off. However, before she could get too far, a strong hand grabbed her bicep and swept her away from the table. ”No! Let go! Let go you sonnva*****!”

As they rounded a corner into an alley, away from the scene they were causing, Uncle Blood spotted pulling her and turned her around to face him. ”Ags…”

But her arms wrapped around his neck and hugged him tight as she buried her face into his shoulder. She could already feel her body ready, her mutation reaching out through several cell that touched his, trying to soak up whatever combat knowledge he had. It was painful, it was distracting, and she had a limited amount of time before she forgot a skill she had learned, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to hug him.

”Please…” she begged between sobs that soaked his shoulder. ”…please don’t let me go. Don’t leave me alone…”

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

Agnes didn’t care if everyone in the crowd was laughing (or at least most of them). Agnes scarcely cared what anyone thought of her, all that mattered was the upcoming battle. As she rolled her shoulders, ignoring the argument that the announcer and the Irish Hound were having, Agnes turned her masked face to the crowd. A few of them recognized her and she knew that because the second they saw her, they immediately quieted down, others becoming so uncomfortable that they gathered their things and started to leave. Impact always warned her about this, about drawing attention to herself and making herself recognizable. But she didn’t care – there were still enough fools to underestimate her.

“Are you ****ing kidding? I’ll kill her!” Thomas grumbled to the announcer. “I don’t care what tai-chi, pilates, bullcrap she’s sold you on! I’m not going back to jail for breaking her stupid neck.”

“Tom, buddy, pal, listen,” the announcer tried to say. “I’m not kidding. This’ll be a good fig—“

“Nah man! Get someone else!”

”What’s wrong?” Agnes voice suddenly cut through the argument. She held her gloved hands outward in a challenging pose as she eyed the tall Irishman with her crystalline gaze. ”Too much of a p***** to fight a girl?”

She had said it loud enough for most everyone to hear it. The crowd’s laughter died away, the argument ended, and now there was just silence between the two fighters as they glared at one another. The announcer gulped, hung his head as he turned and walked out of the cage. With a sweep he slammed the door shut and locked it in place. He knew there was no way that Thomas was going to walk away from a comment like that – and he was right.

Oh the hate and the anger that Thomas’ glare conveyed to Agnes. It was clear that he wanted to rip her limb from limb. He smashed his hands together, threatening, as he advanced, slowly on the young woman. Slowly he started to circle around her and she mirrored him. As they sized one another up, it was clear that neither was impressed with the other.

“Stupid b****,” he grumbled. “I tried to get out an out. But you had to go and piss me off.” He craned his neck, cracking it in the process. “Gonna break your goddamn jaw. Teach you some ****ing manners.”

Agnes snorted, her arms at her sides as she walked around him. ”If fight as well as you talk…well…then I guess the only one that will be doling out the lessons will be me.”

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

The talk that followed between Agnes and Uncle Blood was an honest one. Her uncle, though not wanting to let the girl go, felt like maybe it would help lead to a better life for her. The truth was that he felt that he was robbing the young girl of her youth, that he was getting older, that at some point their luck was going to run out and it was just going to be her with no one else to help guide her. At least with Vicente’s group, there was some kind of chance for a happy life, however slim it seemed. Though the man had never married, never had kids of his own, his niece had become his daughter and it was a fact that he wanted to drill into her head. By the time their discussion came an end, Agnes had a choice to make. Her uncle wasn’t going to force her to join her Uncle Vicente and his band of idealists, but he did feel it was the best way for her to have a chance at a good life and not one seeped in blood.

Agnes herself had grown quiet after their talk. She didn’t really even talk much during it but instead only interjected a “Yeah” or “I know” as her uncle spoke. Eventually they found themselves at the river, La Seine, where she stopped and leaned against the railing, looking out over the water. It was a favorite spot for lovers, as she could see. Across the way, couples were nuzzling and kissing and staring longingly into one another’s eyes. It made the young woman’s mind wander, returning to fantasies that she knew she would never be able to achieve. Uncle Blood said that Vicente’s people helped mutants – could they help her to touch someone without pain or discomfort? It was a bit of a shallow reason to even consider going but she couldn’t help her mind’s wanderings.

She had been having troubles of late. When she first ran with her uncle, it was fear that drove her. In many ways, that was still the case, but the problem now was that Agnes was essentially living her life while on the run. There were still needs, curiosities, and questions that wanted answers or experiences that being a fugitivie (or whatever they were) simply would never be able to answer. Maybe whoever these X-Men were could actually help with that. She took a deep breath, shifting legs as she continued to star at the flowing water, her expression undiscernible to her uncle who stood by her side and waited for her answer.

”Agnes…” he finally cautioned to speak. ”You…mean that absolute world to me. When I took you in…I…I did it because I saw a kid in trouble.” He reached over, brushing hair out of her eyes. Agnes momentarily winced at the touch, feeling her body immediately react be seeking out his combat knowledge. Luckily he didn’t touch her for long. ”I didn’t expect I would get a daughter out of this…”

The tears began to well in her eyes as she tried to force them back down. She didn’t want to cry, she didn’t want to show any weakness. All she wanted to do was pretend that they weren’t having this discussion. The truth was that she loved her uncle like a father, hell, he was more of a father than her actual father was. At least her uncle didn’t have her tied down and branded like an animal. But now she was being asked to leave the only home she had ever felt comfortable in. Even if they had been on the run this whole time, never staying in one place more than a few nights, it was still home for her. And besides, even if he was right and he was getting scared about slowing down, about not being able to protect her, why would she leave him behind? She wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice himself.

And there Agnes was. Caught between the promise of a sweeter life versus the unknown of a life she had already accepted for herself. She had made her peace, long ago, that she wouldn’t live a normal life. Now it just seemed as the universe was trying to throw a wrench in her plans of living in solitude. What was she to do? She gulped, closed her eyes and let the tears fall, before she turned her back to her uncle and shoved her hands into her pocket. She was sad, remorseful, and angry at him all the same time and it wasn’t going to help her choice with him hanging over her shoulder. So she needed to walk, to think, and to decide.

Before she got too far from the man, though, she peered back over her shoulder. ”I need to think.” she said. ”I’ll see you at the hotel.”

The man was silent for a moment, nodding his head. As he watched her go, he was about to turn away when he stopped and raised his voice to call out to her. ”Agnes…”

”I’ll be careful…” she shouted back. Under her breath, out of his range of hearing, she muttered a silent and unheard, ”…dad.”

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

The stare down was intense. As the two stared at one another, the bile and the hatred seemed to pour off the two of them like thick haze. Of course hate was a strong word concerning Agnes’ feelings towards the towering man who stood before her. The truth was that she loathed and despised him with utter entirety. Though those pools of glittering sapphire stared at him silently, they were burning with a fire that would have scorched someone down to their very soul if they started at her long enough. But Thomas didn’t burn – not yet.

Agnes rolled her neck as she continued to circle around him. She was daring him to make the first move, wanting him to underestimate her. He was bigger and stronger but she was faster, more agile, and she knew exactly which buttons of his to push. Jerks like him were all the same but this one, in particular, she would be able to get exactly what she wanted from him.

As the caged animals surrounded one another, Agnes continued to narrow her eyes at the beast of a man. He was practically foaming at the mouth with the disrespect that she was showing him. Truth was that there was nothing respectable about the man, at least nothing that she could see. He was just another user, a monster set loose in the world, a tumor on the face of humanity – and she was the scalpel ready to cut him out.

There was no more banter or chatter from the man. With a growl on his lips, he suddenly lunged forward, but stopped himself before he took a step, trying to incite a flinch from the young woman. However, she didn’t give him the pleasure. Instead her eyes just narrowed tighter as her fists clenched. Thomas chuckled maliciously as he lifted his fists, amused by his taunt, despite the fact that the desired effect he was looking for never came.

“I’m gunna make you bleed, gir--,” his voice caught in his throat. After a second, instead of words, there only came a hasty escape of breath from his lungs.

In the span of time it took the man to speak his sentence, the younger ninja had lunged forward, ducked low, drove her elbow directly into his hardened abs. The man doubled over against his, choking on his own foul breath as Agnes remained still, her elbow damn near collapse his solar plexus. With him hunched over, he was primed to listen.
”A tip, big boy…” she growled. ”The next time you promise to hurt someone…do it.”

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

The walking didn’t help to ease her mind much. As the young warrior found herself further and further away from the man she called her uncle, and her father, she found that she really couldn’t clear her thoughts, no matter how much she wanted to. She wanted to be able to return with a decision in mind but her heads was full of too many voices, too many questions, and too many guesses as to what could possibly happen. She wished she just knew what lay ahead but that was beyond her powers, apparently.

Strolling through the evening in Paris was a romantic notion that any girl her age would have loved to have been able to partake in. But Agnes wasn’t like most girls. While they dreamed of walking with some beau, starlight dancing in their eyes, it simply wasn’t what the girl truly understood. Of course she was curious. She had seen couples before, she had seen loving couples, but because of her mutation, she knew that that wasn’t something available to her, no matter how much that broke her heart. Like any teenager, she found herself often wondering, “why am I different?”

Making her way down some wayward street, she found herself at some night bazaar. Several vendors were lining the streets with lights strung up to light the way in a glow of flickering amber. Agnes tilted her head, momentarily forgetting her problems as she wandered into it, slipping around people and letting her eyes rest for a few moments on the wares she saw for sale. She almost started to smile.

Everything seemed so lovely here. As her eyes wandered, she found herself drawn by the smell of freshly baked breads filled with herbs. Upon approaching, a kindly old man with a white, handlebar mustache smiled sweetly as he grabbed a knife, cut off the end of one of his breads and handed it over to her with his compliments. Initially Agnes shook her head shyly but at his polite insistence, she finally took it and muttered her “thank you” in her clumsy French and slipped away.

Nibbling on the end of the bread, Agnes continued on, her mind occupied by the sights, sounds, and smells of the bazaar, too much to really even think about the problems that her driven her out into the streets. It was as she passed another stall that Agnes found herself drawn in by the twinkling of light in her eye. Tilting her head over, she found a smaller stall with a varied of homemade jewelry for sale. She approached, her eyes drawn to a small silver necklace with what looked like a ladybug jewel. The sight of it actually made her snort and sigh. But it was the voice of another that immediately killed any expression on her face.

“Beau collier pour une belle femme.”

She looked her, her wide silver eyes taking in the form and cute face of a young woman with mocha colored skin and head full of raven-black curls. Her deep, earthy eyes, looked over Agnes briefly before returning to look at eyes. She continued to smile sweetly as she gestured to the array of necklaces that she had for sale.

Agnes shook her head. ”Uh, no…sorry…” she started to say. ”I didn’t mean to pry…” She rolled her eyes. The girl probably didn’t even understand her so she fumbled to remember her French. ”Um…pardon…e-excusez-moi…”

As Agnes began to slip away, the girl behind the table giggled as she held up her hand to stop her. “No. Iz…okay.” Her English was broken and possessed a heavy French influence, but she was clearly speaking English. “I zay…um…pretty necklace…” she carefully removed the necklace from the table and held it out to her. “…for beautiful lady.”

The young warrior stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the necklace that was being offered to her. She had seen such displays before, even been a part of them thanks to some drunken or cringeworthy fool who was trying to buy her for a night. But this, well, this was all-together different and possessed a tenderness that the young woman was all together unfamiliar with. Still, she couldn’t let her mind wander, as clearly the saleswoman was just try to get her to buy. So she shook her head.

”No money,” she said with a small shrug. But the other was persistent.

“No. Iz free.”

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

Agnes flipped backwards, her nostrils flaring beneath the scarf as she clenched her fists and slipped into a new combat position. Thomas was still reeling from the from the elbow to his stomach that, like Jezebel cutting away Samson’s hair, seemed to drain him of his strength. Holding his stomach, he struggled to not vomit as Agnes continued to circle around him. She could already feel the hate radiating off of him but she wasn’t going to allow him the chance to use it – he wouldn’t, would he?

Dashing forward, Agnes ran up to the side of the man, driving her knee into his ribs, aching to hear that crunch of them snapping like toothpicks. Sadly they didn’t and, instead, the man just grunted in loud pain as he stumbled down to just one knee. His hand gripping the coarse ground, the man growled as he suddenly stood up faster than Agnes was expecting and swiped at her with a meaty fist. Agnes barely had time to squeak before she dropped down and rolled, just in time to miss his heavy boot smash into the spot she had been a second ago.

Quickly she flipped onto her feet and was ready with a new offensive. Clearly she had miscalculated just how strong his ribs were but that wasn’t a mistake that she was going to make again. Instead she would study, she would adapt, and she would switch up her original plan – Agnes was known for being able to think on the fly. With her fists up, she saw her opening when the man snorted like a bull and charged at her with his fists raised high, ready to bring down upon her head.

Waiting, Agnes stood her ground until he was just about on her when she suddenly stepped forward, swept inward with both of her balled up fists and struck the cluster of nerves in the armpits of her opponent. The pain it caused must have been excruciating because the man suddenly stopped in his tracks, screaming as he tucked in his arms like a baby T-Rex. His eyes squinted closed, she snarled and gasped as pain radiated throughout his body. Agnes acted quick.

As he doubled down, Agnes moved in with two solid punches to each side of his chin before she leapt, spun and drove her heel directly into the center of his nose. The crunch sounded that echoed was disgusting to hear to all but her – she reveled in it. She sent Thomas fumbling backwards as she landed on her feet and turned her back to him. Really she couldn’t imagine what else he had to throw against her, but her momentary hubris would cost her.

”ACK!” she squeaked as, before she knew it, strong arms wrapped around her neck from behind and swiftly pulled her off her feet. Agnes gasped, trying to growl through the pressure applied to her throat but found she was quickly lacking in the ability to breathe. That, mixed with the crush of his firm chest against her back and Agnes understood what it was like to be a prey caught in the grasp of a constricting snake. She wriggled, she struggled, but she was already beginning to see black.

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

Her name was Winnie. Agnes didn’t know what to expect when she cautiously took the necklace that was offered to her, but she certainly didn’t expect to be waiting around for her to get off stall duty so that they could “hang out”. It was strange to feel an instant connection with someone, to actually be interested in someone and have them throw that interest back at you. It was not something that the warrior had experienced before but she was most thankful for it – she thought. Truth was that as she paced around the square in the dark of night, she was beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. After all, what did Agnes know about making friends – or other interested parties?

She shook her head. As she stepped onto a small concrete ledge that encircled a fountain, Agnes found herself stuffing her hands into her pockets as she idly let her thoughts wander. This was stupid. She shouldn’t be here. But there was something about the way that Winnie looked at her, about the way that she spoke, about her shy smile that made her heart flutter a tiny bit. This was ridiculous, though. Really, what interest or hope could she even hold out for someone like Winnie? With her and her uncle constantly on the run? It was a stupid notion.

Still, as she found herself reaching the end of the path, Agnes turned and started to march in the other direction. It was as if she were flipping a switch to argue against herself. Her thoughts immediately shifted and she found herself wondering if maybe this was all fate or destiny. After all, Uncle Blood had said that Vicente and his people help mutants with difficult abilities. Maybe they could train her, teach her to control this ability better so that romantic interludes were actually a possibility for her? It was a long shot, but if they dedicated themselves to such things, then why not?

Another turn, another arguing thought.

But her uncle. If she did decide the join the X-Men, she would be leaving her uncle. The man had already said that he wouldn’t be able to stay with Vicente because his ways clashed with their own. She knew that those agents chasing them were after him and she just got swept up in the process. But how could she abandon him to face that life on his own? He said he was used to it, that it was something he would be able to manage, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t manage it. What if he was captured? Or worse, what if he was killed and she wasn’t there to protect or save him? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. How could she just…leave?

She sniffled as a tear began to roll down her cheek. She wanted a normal life. She wanted to life a sweet existence with someone who loved her, who could settle down with her. She wanted to stop fighting, even if it was only for a little bit, but at the moment doing seemed like it would damn the only family that she truly cared about. What right did she have to do that?

“’ello…” A sweet voice issued from behind.

Agnes perked up, her ears tickled at the melodious sound. Turning around, she found Winnie there, all smiles, titling her head cutely as she watched the warrior pace. She was dressed in a blue, floral-colored dress, and her smile was so brilliant that Agnes felt blinded. For a moment she still felt confusion and anger, but it melted away when she eyed the young woman with mass of curled hair. A small smile tweaked her lips, watching as she climbed up to the ledge with her.

“’ave you been waiting for long?” she asked softly.

Agnes shook her head before she replied. ”Just my whole life.”

…wait…what?

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

The black was settling fast over her eyes. As she struggled against the man who held her, Agnes found herself straining to keep herself conscious. His strength was impressive and he was fully in this fight now. She guessed that a broken nose, bruised ribs, and a massive amount of pain had finally opened his eyes to the fact that she was not someone to be ****ed with. He was not holding back or playing games anymore. He was actually out to kill her. Good, she would rather he fall when he was facing her full on.

Her body struggled with discomfort as she felt the small snatches of bare skin that touched immediately activate her abilities. Her cells reached out to his, digging and drilling through the bedrock for whatever combative muscle memory that he possessed. It was distracting and set Agnes’ teeth on edge. If he held on too long, she was going to forget everything that she knew about fighting (except for what she extensively trained in), and she wasn’t about to let that happen. A deep snarl bubbled up to her lips as she wriggled once more, just on the edge of blackness, before she finally did what she wanted, she was able to buck herself forward, bringing her legs up high.

If Thomas had been a smart man, he would have known what was going to follow but, thankfully, he was a dumb as a sack of bricks. The man, spurred on by her struggles, merely cackled as he smeared his blood-coated tongue along her cheek, a promise of worse times to come. But his elation was soon met with harsh pain as Agnes shouted, swung down her lower half and buried her heel directly between the man’s legs.

She could practically hear the crunch and the screaming of future progeny now lost to the future.

Soundlessly Thomas gasped, he lurched forward, arms loosening from around Agnes’ much smaller frame. The second she was able to take a full breath, Agnes broke free from the man’s grasp, rolled forward and turned so that she was crouched low but facing him. Thomas fell to his knees, struggling to breathe, as Agnes breathed a few heavy sighs to regain her composure. Her opponent retched, then vomited off the side, his large hands struggling to cover and hold whatever was left of the manhood that Agnes had just taken away from him.

Moving onto her feet, straightening up, Agnes knew she couldn’t let him breathe for too long. That blow was a low one and it was only going to incite further rage if she let him recover. So, with a shout, the young woman bounded straight for him, her battle cry filling the air before she suddenly leapt and threw her leg directly towards him.

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

She was bewitching to look at. Agnes didn’t know why, though. She had never paid someone so much attention. It felt like the girl was just so cute and endearing that she couldn’t allow herself to feel anything but utter peace around her. Agnes had never felt like this before. Was this what the movie’s called “Love at first sight”? Was this “love”? How could it be love, though? She wasn’t entirely sure she knew what love really meant, especially considering her upbringing. But, whatever it was, as the cute, curvaceous teen approached her, Agnes couldn’t concentrate on it for too long.

Her hands remained in her pockets but oh how she wanted to reach out and embrace the young woman. She was giving her the warmest of gazes, the sweetest of smiles, and the shyest of blushes. As she approached, standing on the bench, she tilted her head to look at the new necklace that Agnes wore around her neck. The silver glinted into the dim light of the street lamps and caught the reflection of droplets of water as they spilled out from the fountain nearby. Winnie was all smiles.

“It…looks good,” she said with a firm nod. “I made good choice.”

Agnes could feel the heat rising on her cheeks. The compliment was so sweet and she was so unused to such flattery that she found that she wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it. She bit her lip, pulling her hand up to touch the necklace that Winnie had given her, before covering her mouth to hide her smile. It hurt her cheeks to do so, so of course she could only surmise that she did it wrong. However, as she covered her lips, Winnie boldly stepped forward and placed her hand over Agnes’, shaking her head.

“No. Do not ‘ide,” she said with her thick accent. “Trop beau pour cacher.”

Agnes blushed a little at the compliment. She didn’t have mastery of the French language, but she did know a few phrases and words here and there; “too beautiful to hide” just happened to be one of them. She chewed on her lip, hiding her blushing cheeks as she shook her head at her fellow teens advances. This had absolutely never happened to her before so she was still in surprise by all of it – something that immediately made something in her stomach tingle.

”I…I don’t understand…” Agnes tried to say as she turned to look away from the lovely girl. ”I mean…this doesn’t…just happen…you know?” she sighed, a haze beginning to fill her head. ”Y-You’re so pretty.”

Winnie smiled sweetly and bowed her head in thanks. She reached out, a slender hand slipping into Agnes’. Surprisingly, while there was still discomfort, she didn’t flinch as hard as she thought that she would. Her head was swimming with good feelings and sensations, again, something she didn’t think she would ever come across. And even as her hand slipped into Winnie’s, as her body dug and drilled through the dark-skinned woman for combat experience, Agnes didn’t care. All she wanted to do was kiss h—

Wait…Krav Maga? Ji-Jistu? Close Quarters Combat? She could feel all of those styles seeping into her body, trying to replace what she already had learned and trained in. Why did this young, slip of a thing know these styles? She was a jewelry vendor! That was the repitotire of some super spy…SHIT!

Feeling her head still swimming, Agnes ripped her hand away from Winnie, severing the connection and breathing a deep, heavy sigh. As she staggered away, trying to stop her head from swimming, Winnie hopped off the ledge and circled her, still keeping her distance. She reached up and put her hand to her ear.

“Command. Yes,” she said, her accent completely gone. “I have the target. She’s almost docile, but hurry. I think she’s coming out of my influence.”

Anger seeping into her body, Agnes pushed through the haze as survival, combat, and instinct all began churn from within. She screwed up, yes, but her anger over being manipulated more than made up for any insecurity that that caused her. With a snarl she turned her reddening gaze on Winnie. The young woman cursed into her earpiece as she slipped into a Krav Maga position.

“Come on, *****,” she said, with only the slightest hint of uncertainty. “I think I can hold you off long enough for the rest of S.U.P.E.R. to get here.”

”ARRRGGGHHH!!!” Agnes charged. She’d rip her limb from limb if she had to.

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

Her heel caught the man in his cheek, turning his head fast and causing a spray of blood, spit, and teeth to go flying from his mouth. The man gasped, whistling through his shattered teeth as he careened off to the side. Agnes landed firmly upon her two feet, narrowing her gaze at him as she straightened herself up. The man was clearly seeing stars, dealing with a possibly broken jaw, a broken nose, broken teeth, and broken family jewels. There was no way he had any more fight left in him. But, as the young warrior took a step back to gear up to lay down a final blow, the man once against proved her wrong.

Thomas just growled even harder as he wobbly pushed onto his two feet, growling like a rabid beast now. Saliva dripped from his mouth as his muscles tensed so hard that veins began to bulge out from his biceps. Once he stood up straight, his eyes turned and burned holes directly into Agnes. With a speed that she hadn’t expected, the man suddenly snapped a fist forward, catching her on the chin and causing her to twirl down onto the ground. She barely got a chance to breathe before he was on her again, delivering a kick to her ribs, making her go airborne, before she snatched her before hitting the ground. Pulling her by her leg, the man was just grunts and growls as he turned and swung Agnes, throwing her into the chain link fence that surrounded them.

THWANGG!!

Agnes’ body collided with the walls, her mind exploding with pain as he tumbled down to the ground. She groaned for a second, trying to catch her breath. Slowly she moved onto her hands and knees. One arm wrapped around her side where she felt her cracked ribs. Her eyes were still a little blurry after the hit she took to the face but she powered through the pain as she snapped her attention towards the rapidly moving object that charged at her.

Like a bull, Thomas flew at her, teeth gnashing, hands arched and ready to rip her head to tail. But Agnes was quicker, blindly rolling off to the side, digging her palms into the floor and flipping up onto her two feet before flipping backwards and away from him. Landing with a crouch she lifted her head, shaking it to regain her normal sight. The man was gripping the wall where she had just been and was now turning to face her.

“Stupid ****!!!!” He shouted obscenely.

Agnes shook her head. Already her body was pumping to help numb the pain from her wounds. Slipping into a position, she narrowed her eyes as she spat at him. ”After this, I’m getting you a ****ing thesaurus; that is, if you’ll see be able to read!”

“ARRRGH!!!” Thomas charged at her.

PARIS, FRANCE – SEVERAL YEARS EARLIER

Agnes only saw red. She could still feel Winnie’s influence trying to creep deeper into her head. It was clear that she was a mutant and, worst of all, she was working for S.U.P.E.R., the same jackwagons that have been chasing them this whole time. How on earth did they find them in Paris? They had just gotten out of Germany before the agents showed up so nothing should have been left behind to lead them to Paris. Whoever these jerks were, it was clear that they weren’t going to stop any time soon and Agnes needed to keep fighting if she wanted to ensure that she and her uncle could escape yet again.

But first, she needed to barrel through this witch who was feeding her emotions. Agnes wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what the woman’s powers were but it was clear that she was skilled with using them. She managed to fill Agnes head with a sense of longing and want for her, almost like some kind of Charm manipulation that she couldn’t fully understand. The only thing that was keeping her from completely succumbing was the anger that boiled over inside of her tiny frame. She was not going to allow herself to be used like this.

It was worse the closer that she got to Winnie but she had to in order to kick her ***. Flipping forward, Agnes mentally swapped her skills to a Capoeira style, and took one a more energetic and unpredictable style to throw off Winnie’s Krav Maga skills. Moving in a more dance like maneuver, Agnes flipped and spun, her legs extended outward and in sweeping angles that kept Winnie hopping backwards, squeaking, and dodging out of the way hastily as she spat obscenities. Agnes herself only continued to growl like a beast.

“Come on, ‘darling’…” Winnie spat sadistically. “You’re going to hurt my feelings now! Thought we had a connection…UMPH…going!?”

Winnie deflected a hard kick and sent Agnes off-angle. Winnie used this opening to push in and deliver a knee to Agnes’ stomach. The young runaway gasped in pain as she stumbled back but immediately flipped backwards, onto her hands and spun, her legs extended outward. The side of her foot satisfyingly struck the woman upon her cheek. Spinning, she landed upright, but crouched low.

”**** you, *****!” she snapped.

Winnie just grinned, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. “Wasn’t that what you wanted anyways?” The smirk on her full, beautiful lips was devilish. Even though she was the enemy, Agnes was having a hard time concentrating on anything bad about her – oh, other than she was trying to enslave her. “Don’t you long to be touched, you little freak?”

”Shut UP!!” Agnes snapped. She rushed forward and engaged in close-quarters combat with the woman. They would stain the stones bloody tonight.

NEW YORK CITY , NEW YORK – NOW

Thomas was no better than an animal now and Agnes wasn’t too far behind. The both of them were merely just growling now, snapping at one another as they lasted out in vain attempts to land the final blow that would finally end this fight. Though Thomas was a monster and damn near machine like, Agnes herself was no slouch. She dodged, she weaved, she struck when there was an opening, and drew a fair amount of blood herself. Each time a blow landed, though, it only seemed to make Thomas angrier and wilder; it was almost as if he had a problem with losing to a girl.

His heavy fist found a home buried in the ground as Agnes leapt away before she dashed forward and drove her heel into the joint. Thomas gasped but Agnes didn’t linger as his other arm was already lashing out towards her. Digging her foot into his shoulder, Agnes pushed off, forcing him to bend forward. With a twist, she brought her other foot down into the back of his head, causing both head and arm to unite in the ground before she leapt away and landed upon her feet.

Thomas took a second to catch his breath before he pulled his hand out from the ground, just in time to catch Agnes’ foot as she came in for another kick. With a firm hold on her ankle, Thomas suddenly pulled her towards him, causing her fall onto her back with a loud thump. Pulling her over, the man immediately climbed atop her, his knees pressing down on her thighs, and his bruised, bloodied hands gripping her by the wrists.

Agnes squirmed, snarling a bit as she tried to pushed the much larger man off of her bad. Sadly he had quite a few more pounds on her and managed to keep her pinned fairly solidly. Knowing that he had the young woman trapped, Thomas took a second to savor the victory as he leaned down, the murderous intent in his eyes momentarily switching to something more carnal and violent and despicable.

“You put up a good fight,” he wheezed. “Good. I like it when they fi—“ CRUNCH!! “—ARRRGHHGHGH!!!”

While the man monologued, Agnes suddenly threw her head forward, burying her forehead into his already shattered nose. A spurt of warm blood and mucus splashed across her pale skin, soaking into her mask and hoodie. Thomas howled like a beast, blinded by the overload of pain on his face. As he leaned back, his weight on her thighs lifting, Agnes managed to squirm her legs free from under him, but Thomas was quick to change his grip from her wrists to her throat. He squeezed tight, on eye now completely bloodied and swollen closed.

But Agnes was not without her tricks. Moving her legs around him, Agnes wrapped them around his ribs and began to squeeze her thighs as tightly together as she could. With his ribs already wounded, Thomas struggling to maintain his strength on her throat and his righteous anger but it simply couldn’t last long enough. Before he knew it, Thomas was moving onto his feet, still gripping her by the throat but he howled in pain. He tried lifting her higher but her legs gripped his ribcage like a vice; that is until she finally got the lift she wanted.