It was dark, in the X-Mansion; even mutants need their sleep. A couple of the older students and teachers were still up, wandering the halls, but for the most part everyone was in bed.
Scott Summers closed his laptop, sighing. It had been a long few months for the X-Men, and it didn't look like things were going to quieten down any time soon. No matter how hard they tried, there always seemed to be some bizarre mutant threat ready and
waiting to crawl out of the woodwork. Like earlier that day, for instance. Someone had reported a sighting of Mister Sinister in New York; odd, since Scott was sure Sinister had been dead for months, but for mutants coming back from the dead seemed as regular
as breakfast.
So he'd gone down to New York to check it out - on his own. No point in bothering anyone else, not until they knew that something was going on. He checked out every room in the apartment complex that Sinister had been seen, but he hadn't found him. Well,
sort of.
One of the rooms, a small little thing on the top floor, had been filled with all sorts of bizarre experiments and notes. Scott had flicked through them; they were pretty clearly Sinister's, but they dated back to before he'd been killed. It was obviously
an old safehouse of his. Scott had packed everything up and brought it back to the Mansion for Beast to look through. The furry blue mutant hadn't had a chance to get at it yet, but Scott lived in hope that he'd have found something to help save the mutant
race.
Cyclops reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small red gem about the size of his thumb. He'd seen it on a desk in Sinister's safehouse. Something had drawn him to it; he'd pocketed it almost without realising. It glimmered and glinted in the light,
looking beautiful even through his ruby-quartz visor. He put it on his dresser; Beast could look at it in the morning.
Scott turned off his light, and lay down.
Mister Sinister had many back-up plans. He was more than prepared for his own death - he made high-price deals with dangerous individuals. The hologram projector in the New York apartment was simple to set up; the soul back-up in the gem less so. But it
had worked. The gem began to glow, rising into the air, and then flew at Cyclops's sleeping form, attaching itself to his forehead. Cyclops removed his visor and opened his eyes. They still glowed red, but no optic blasts came out. He grinned, an evil grin
that looked wrong on his face.
Mister Sinister was back.