The Akkaba Metropolis, The North Pole
The howls of the Arctic winds never reached those who walked the many streets and halls of the stronghold of Clan Akkaba.
The city was an extraordinary feat of engineering accomplished through the use of Celestial technology. Constructed within an air pocket, it was safely sandwiched between the thick sheet of ice above and the many metric tonnes of water that flowed beneath it. It wasn’t altogether cold, but it wasn’t warm either, and was constantly cast in a pale foreboding blue, its “skies” dotted with floating burgundy diamond shaped towers. A singular rectangular metallic tower hovered over the city’s centre, one of several entrances into the world above.
It was in this tower that William Rolfson now stood.
Upon the activation of his x-gene, William’s physical form had been reduced to the state of a skeleton, the trade off being that he now possessed power on par with that of several nuclear detonations, his energies sealed within a containment suit. Dubbed Genocide, William’s most impressive feat to date had been the destruction of Beaver Lake, Montana. He had detonated an explosion that had wiped the town and its five thousand three hundred and one inhabitants off the map in a matter of seconds. He was about to start making use that power on a much larger scale.
The Akkaba Metropolis was a haven and a home to more than a hundred thousand former mutants and had the capacity to house a hundred thousand more. Having lost their powers on M-Day, these former mutants were more desperate than ever to reclaim their birthright in the wake of a swath of new mutant activations. Several of these new mutants had made their way to the Akkaba Metropolis, with the result being that the populace was more committed than ever to Akkaba’s goals. They believed they were the next step in evolution and they would stop at nothing to ensure their dominance went unhindered.
“Are we ready?” William asked the Dark Beast, who was seated at a control panel dotted with exotic looking levers and buttons. Genocide noticed Icshumi observe him with scornful disdain as he made his presence known. It was no secret that the geisha believed her accursed twins to be the true heirs to the legacy of Apocalypse and that they should wait for the two babies to come of age before they made their next move. But Genocide had never been the patient sort. He was the true son of Apocalypse and he would not be denied.
“Yes,” Dark Beast confirmed, his glowing yellow eyes glinting as he turned to face Genocide. “Our race’s flame has been rekindled. Whether the Celestials summoning us instead of the other way around is a good omen, I can’t say, but it should be absolutely fascinating, that much is certain.”
“Then call in War and Famine,” Genocide said, the corners of his lips curling upwards, his hands crackling with enough power to quell any protestations. “We won’t waste any more time before we begin remaking this world in my father’s image, in my image. We’ll see what it is the Celestials want and rid ourselves of an enemy in the same breath. Set Ship’s course for the Blue Area of the Moon.”
Dark Beast smiled and leapt to his feet, his rotten overcoat trailing after him. Ischumi reluctantly joined him, her displeasure evident as the beetles began pouring from the geisha’s mouth.
The Inhumans had been a thorn in Clan Akkaba’s side for far too long. Apocalypse was about to come to Attilan.
Next: Annoying neighbours, intergalactic incidents and an attack on the Peak! But what are the invaders after? And where do the X-Men fit into this? Abigail Brand is in for one hell of a bad day, as Home Invasion begins!