After the debacle that led to the destruction of New York all Drew could think about was getting back to the Mansion. He was worried. It took longer than he liked to get away. It was nearly a full day after the blast before he managed to get away. It was rough going. There was no more quick transit. The best he managed was walking through a few miraculously undamaged subway tunnels. Eventually he came near the mansion around sunset. Being in the neighborhood again after all that death and damage was soothing. Even though he was sure that the rest of the world was swiftly meeting a similar fate as New York.

So far the only thing Drew had seen to bring him down was the sheer chaos and destruction that Kaitlyn's explosion had wrought. Oh he'd been there. He'd been planning to visit Sebastian, Calley, and the rest of the church when it went down and the world went mad shortly after. He'd spent the day between then and now helping out the congregation members that had been caught in the blast. Sure Sebastian called him Styx but that didn't mean he was all that eager for the death that that sobriquet implied. The Horseman of Death, preferred to keep people among the living. In fact it was probably his status as an immortal that had kept him alive during the end.

The reality of surviving the end didn't hit him until he saw the gates. The broken down gates sobered him more than the rest of the landscape of rubble had. This place had been his home just a few short days ago. What on earth had happened to cause this? It looked...horrible. The five minutes it took him to venture past the ruined gates didn't register in Drew's mind. All he saw was the destruction and death. One body, three bodies, ten bodies. He counted each and every one and each body was another reminder that he should be among them.

The body at the top of the stairs was the one that destroyed the composure he'd hung on to.

Maya.

The form of one of his favorite X-Men grew blurry as Drew groped for an un-ruined piece of stair railing to support himself.

Agnes's gardens weren't beautiful anymore. So much of them had been destroyed by the blast and the remains cleared out by Drew. Now in place of the flowers and trees stood graves laid out in haphazard lines. After hours of searching every nook and cranny there hadn't been a living soul left in the place. The door to the Danger Room had stood open when he arrived there. People had been there at some point. There were no bodies there. Now there were no bodies anywhere but in the foyer. The peace with which the former shells of his friends and housemates laid on the floor belied their violent deaths.

The rhythmic sound of a shovel moving earth was the only sound to be heard now. Six feet deep and start again. The digging didn't take the faces out of his mind. Maya came back repeatedly. No chance of that date now even if he did manage to gender swap. After the graves were dug, a long arduous chore, Drew headed up to the offices. He couldn't remember the names of everyone that had died. But he knew the faces and hopefully the paperwork was intact. He dismantled walls, tables, and anything he could find to make the grave markers.

Without a working clock the sun told his time. He'd been at it for a day just digging the graves. Finding the names and making the markers took most of another. He laid them to rest at the end of that second day. Maybe he'd buried Drew with them because he certainly didn't feel quite like Andrew Leroy anymore.

Styx was the pet name Sebastian had given him. He'd explained one day, after some cajoling, that back in Ancient Greece the gods had sworn oaths on that river and were bound to obey those oaths. It's association with Hades and thereby death only made it an even more fitting name for the Horseman of Death. When he had been given that nickname he'd thought it somewhat silly but had indulged the unicorn, given that the man was responsible for his own immortality and survival. At the time he'd put up with it simply because if the horned horse man wanted to call him something weird in exchange for eternal life and freeing him from those damnable promises to Martin then by all means he could call him Spanky for all he'd cared.

Now on the other hand, now it seemed to fit. Styx, Horseman of Death.

He'd rummaged through the rooms in the mansion. There were still some clothes and what not left. Despite the association with Death however the man didn't look for black clothes or dark clothes. Instead his new wardrobe consisted of whites and tans. A tan trench coat with a hood here. A white shirt and pants there. The combat boots, gloves, and scarf had been scavenged from the dead before he'd buried them. At the time he hadn't thought too much about it other than that they might come in handy. Now they would serve as part of his new outfit and reminders of the failures of his past. The trio of items were the only things in the outfit that weren't tan or white. The boots and gloves were black while the scarf was a dark red. Between the hood on the coat and the scarf over the lower portions of his face no one would see Andrew Leroy in Styx.

With his business at his former home concluded Styx resolved to return to Sebastian. They had a congregation to guide, aid, and protect.