The arctic winds whipped along the vast expanse of ice, singing a song of isolation as they traveled over the icy tundra. They bristled the hairs on the back of a rogue polar bear, wandering the frozen landscape. The large beasts were becoming accustomed to their new home. Many bears had been transported to the continent a year ago by animal activists, as the North Pole was still in a state of flux between global warming and the attempts going on in the lower North to stabilize and recreate the Gulf Stream. They whistled through majestic ice canyons, the continent revealing itself renewed, free from the previous ravages of global climate change. They slowed and disappeared, dissipating at the feet of a colony of penguins. Hundreds of them, all gathered together, huddled up against the ravaging winds.

Garrett could see the large dark mass of their numbers from the observation deck. He could see most things of import from the massive tower. It was one of the first magnificent permanent ice structures built at the Colony's inception. Every bit of seven stories tall, it was manned by someone at all times. Though the denizens of the Colony were largely concerned with their own lives and the Colony's success, they were always prepared should anyone try to come take their brave new world from them.

Garrett was enjoying the free time he had. He was minding the store until the next watch arrived. He was sitting on a bench sculpted from the ice, occasionally marveling in every aspect that lay before him. There was a dedicated team of cold and ice manipulators constantly working and reworking the shape and structure of the Colony. Even this simple observation tower was an engineering marvel that could not have existed without some kind of mutant's gift. The inside of the room he sat in was polished to an icy sheen. The winds whipped freely through here, but everyone had become accustomed to the cold by now or were sufficiently equipped to deal with it.

He felt the presence of someone coming up the spiral staircase behind him. He felt no hesitation or fear as it was surely the watchman. "Ah, Doc Wills. How are you this beautiful morning?" He recognized the voice as being that of Larissa, a girl in her early twenties gifted with incredible abilities in the realm of perception. Garrett turned his head slightly to the left, to acknowledge her presence. "Very well, thank you Larissa. I wanted to see the sunrise. It has been so long since I saw it last." Long nights were a given here, but life went on below on a constant timetable as every aspect of life was improved daily.

He turned and pulled the hood of his parka off, the wind bristling his own hair. Though he loved having eyebrows and eyelashes, among other things, he always had found it odd that his hair only had grown to a certain short length and then had stopped. Mutations and gifts always had their cons as well as pros. But it beat being a cue ball. He relayed what little information there was to Larissa and then departed, starting the long spiral down to the rest of the complex and his own home.

As Garrett continued down the long spiral, his thoughts turned to Maya, as they did often. They had lasted some time, but as he had gone to Medical School and immersed himself in training at the Mansion, they just naturally had gone their own ways. He had seen her recently via vidscreen, while speaking to the medical officer of X-Force about possibilities with the upcoming controlled Haywire tests to restart the Gulf Stream. While talking to him, he had seen her float through the hallway. No amount of time would make him forget her. He had decided that when the time came to go up there, he would make a point to reunite with her.

Arriving at the bottom of the spiral, he entered the Hub. It was the hub of the wheel of tunnels that connected the major domes of the Colony. It was a populous area, as many people were always on the move, either heading to or leaving from their jobs or just milling about, trying to make a life for themselves. He gave many nods and greetings to people he had treated or knew of. There always seemed to be more new arrivals, considering the opportunity of peace and goodwill among those of one's species.

He headed off down one of the corridors toward his laboratory and infirmary. He was running things over in his head. Recent cases, his work with the virus, requisitions for supplies and the like. The closer he got in proximity to the Infirmary, the more his mind leaned towards work. He had found the work ethic of the Colonists incredibly uplifting. There many families involved, so the children or the infirm didn't get involved, for the most part. But most adults who had an ability, talent, or profession that could assist in life there would generally volunteer. Having volunteerism offset what costs they had, which were little considering their general means of acquisition and travel.

Arriving at the Infirmary, he found there was no one there at the moment. This was a relief to him, as usually the place was bustling with one thing or another. The Infirmary consisted of a waiting room, 6 exam rooms, a functioning laboratory and Garrett's office. It was one of the few areas that had actual structural integrity, not being completely made from ice. He had insisted on this, foreseeing a cave in during an operation or something similarly nasty. He went to his office and found he had several messages waiting for him.

He turned the fluorescent lights on and warmed up his computer and vidscreen. He listened to the messages as he brewed some tea, removing his parka and outerwear, as it was too temperate in the office for all of that. It seemed that he actually had some supplies waiting for him downstairs in the heart of the Colony. The next two messages were reminders of some appointments coming up. The final message was from the office of the Council, requesting his presence for an update on his budget and upcoming projects. He had expected this and was ready, but still didn't look forward to it.

He sat down in his chair, checking his emails and sipping oolong, waiting for the next thing to occur. It usually didn't' take too long before some event occurred, be it major or minor.

Garrett placed his tea to the side, activating the communications relay and turning on the monitor. Part of Antarctica's wonder was its many time zones. One could travel a short distance and find himself several hours ahead or behind a particular region's time. It made for ease of communications. He generally paid no attention to the current time where he was. Unless it had significance to a project or an operation, it was irrelevant. The Colony was out of space and time for him. Had he not decided to volunteer for the project that Controlled Burn had sent him, he would have probably been meditating or practicing his forms.

The CB logo appeared before him, the connection linking up. A storm had blown through a few hours ago, causing some satellite interference, leaving small graphic hiccups and a slight time delay. He rubbed his eyes and waited, hearing Hawley's voice prior to seeing him. "Dr. Wills? Hello?" After a moment the video finally connected. Garrett wondered if Hawley slept in the suit he was wearing. "Yes, I am here, Dr. Hawley. Can you hear me now?" Hawley nodded and his lips were moving, a few seconds of delay prior to audio. It was something Garrett had become accustomed to. The mutant Colony was on its own, for the most part. Outside of the individual donations and a few backers worldwide, they had to make due with what resources they had.

"How are the samples coming along?" Hawley asked. Garrett knew the man wasn't much for mincing words. He was a pleasant fellow, but he was a business man first and always. "I should have the first run prepared in a week or so. Then we can possibly arrange a meeting. My schedule is pretty free, of course. You are the busy one between us." He smiled and chuckled, lightening the mood a bit. He looked forward to visiting London. The Haywire forecast looked pretty low and stable in the region, which was the main factor that Garett considered. He knew that should he contract it, he would either not be able to return or be quarantined for a month on his return. Neither was a dazzling prospect. The Colony had been much too careful to ensure that Haywire did not infect the population, as even its milder version could prove catastrophic to the delicate balance of things.

"Excellent. I received the preliminary data from you yesterday. Everything looks very agreeable. I am still concerned, or I should say, my superiors are concerned about the validity of your supposed pure sample of the virus, though. Few have ever seen the prototype virus and lived to tell the tale. You can surely understand why I would question it." Hawley was slick, there was no doubt about that. Garrett wasn't too green either, though. "That's understandable, Dr. Hawley. I am afraid I will have to continue to remain silent on that part though. I don't blame you for asking, but it was the only condition I had. I'd appreciate it if we could stray from the subject for now. Perhaps we can speak more about it once I arrive." Hawley was visually put off by Garrett's candor, but Garrett wasn't trying to make friends. He was just doing his part to help the world regain its composure.

A few pleasantries and well wishes passed and the monitor faded. Garrett replied to the few messages left for him by patients and decided to leave the office since no one had arrived. He kept his cell handy just in case. He headed out to go below, to the heart of the complex. His vault was there and he had to ensure that the sample was alright. He had become a bit obsessive over it lately. In terms of the virus and its treatments, it was an artifact. He felt the compulsion to actually see it and ensure that it was still in good shape. All the meditation in the world couldn't push that old habit of anxiety out.

He used the only central elevator in the complex. It was an express elevator, having only one stop. It hurtled down through the ice and found the true ground floor. The brain and heart of the complex was subterranean, actually under the land mass of the continent. This was something the Council had decided on early, ensuring that no amount of destruction could undo the work that had been planned long before a single mutant stepped on the ice a mile above. He exited and made his way down the long metal hallway, arriving at the retinal scanner housed in the outer door of the vault.

Arriving at the scanner, Garrett swiped his ID badge, entered a 7 digit numerical code and then placed his face up to the scanner. A brief flash of red[/i] and the door popped free. He blinked a few times, ignoring the impulse that seemed to occur each time he used the scanner. Ever since his initial infection ten years ago, he had done all he could to bring harmony to himself, to fuse completely with the beast within. There had been a few incidents in particular that stuck out in his mind, but the witnesses no longer existed and all of the events had occurred in the Himalayas, while training with his Shaolin teacher.

Closing the door securely behind him, he turned on the lights. There wasn't much here in the outer room, save for a closet containing his original X-Man uniform and his new uniform. He opened the closet and examined the two suits, one black,one white.He hoped he would never have to wear such a thing again. It always meant violence. He kept them nonetheless, in case situations called for them or he received a call to return to the Mansion. Being on reserve status meant that he could be called in at any time in cases of emergency. The States were so ignorant of the world though, that he doubted he would hear much.

He considered the possibility of traveling over there after his business in the UK. He had seen online that many of the alumni of the Sister School were now instructors at the Pax center in New York. The idea of an institution centered around Peace moved him to visit, though he was still on the fence as far as humanity was concerned. He needed much more evidence of a will to change from Homo sapiens before he could trust them. Their record was just too flawed.

Closing the closet door, he moved through the room, looking over the ceremonial weaponry he had brought with him from China. There was little memorabilia. Most of it was functional. He had seen too much death and loss at the hands of ignorance. He tried to keep his life simple and pure. This is why the Colony was so appealing to him. He moved a large scroll his master had given to him to keep for posterity, shortly before Chinese troops burned the centuries old monastery down looking for a mutant. One mutant. It wasn't even Garrett.

Behind the scroll was another retinal scanner. No card reader, no key codes. Just the one scanner. While it might seem to be less secure than the previous entrance, Garrett had formulated a devious way of making this one of the most secure devices available. He pressed his eye into the reader, his finger hovering over the green ready button. This scanner was calibrated to a specific retinal pattern. It was not on any database. Garrett had spent months preparing for this prior to its creation. The 'trick' was now second nature to him.

As he pressed the ready button, he moved one of his optic nerves a millimeter to the right. Only his superior control over his neural system could allow for even such a minute manipulation The scanner read the modified version of his retina and popped open. Returning his nerve to its original location, he pulled the safe open, removing a small case from it. He walked over to a small table in the vault, sitting down and opening the case. It had a thumbprint scanner on it as well. He chuckled at his own paranoia, but this was nothing to joke about, in general.

The case clicked open and there was one thing inside. A dart. The dart that had pierced his chest ten years prior at the Mansion, causing the darker side of himself to take hold while hurting so many innocents. His finger traced over the metal, remembering all that had occurred. He remembered that had his dearest friends not intervened, it could have been much worse than it had been. The dart was empty now, its residual traces of Haywire scoured for the few pure strains he had now. The strains he was planning to use for CB.