Apocalypse steadied himself and lunged at Clark.
Clark stepped back, evading gracefully in mid-air, and drew him out into open ground.
The phoenix, blown away moments before, swept back into the fight. It dove, spewing flame down at Apocalypse, closing ranks with Clark.
An angry roar tore from the general's mouth. Its body swelled fast, scales, fangs, and claws erupting as it twisted into a ferocious giant. It charged in, joining the encirclement.
Having driven Clark back, Apocalypse slipped the phoenix's flames and sent a stream of yellow sand at the bird.
The phoenix retreated after a single strike, then countered with a punch. Forced to abandon the bird, Apocalypse met the blow head-on.
Two huge fists collided at the center. The shockwave roared outward, driving everyone nearby back.
The general was the weaker body, but it compensated through rapid cell division. Apocalypse, having rewritten the molecular structure of his own, lagged behind it physically.
The general halted its retreat by force, roaring, and surged in for another punch.
Apocalypse's expression shifted. As the general closed in, he struck, slipping past its reach to hammer its head.
His height told. His longer arms kept the general from landing a blow, and one punch sent the creature flying.
Apocalypse moved to finish it, but Clark and the phoenix came at him again. He turned to face them, hands raised, and loosed the yellow sand. It coiled around the two of them like a dragon.
The fight on the field escalated past the point at which anyone else could step in.
Chris watched the struggling general, knowing it had been his lifelong protector, and his chest went tight.
"A shame the subject doesn't have enough energy in him," Chris said.
"Otherwise, he could grow bigger, stronger, and walk straight out of this."
The idea lit something in Kyle.
"Bro, what if we feed the general a real energy source? Feels like there's one sitting right here."
"Ready-made, where? If you mean the energy nodes under the castle, forget it. They can't move unless something fights them inside the castle itself."
The general had been built up from a zombie, Ernst later folding in the regenerative ability of vampires.
It made the creature far deadlier in the dark and dharma realms. In theory, with enough energy, it could grow without limit.
"Not the nodes. Simba." Kyle's eyes were bright.
"Father said Simba's real trick is in its stomach, a pocket of another dimension. Anything it swallows gets broken down into pure energy and stored, fuel for its body. If we route that energy into the general, isn't that exactly the source we need?"
"Huh."
The words caught Chris off guard. He turned it over, and the more he did, the better it looked.
"Yes. It has to work. Let's try it."
The general was Ernst's chosen bodyguard for Chris, and the two shared a link.
Chris reached down that link and called Simba over with his instructions.
Simba bolted across the battlefield. The moment Apocalypse's next punch opened a gap, the general sprang back, turned, and ran.
Simba reached it just in time.
The general scooped the creature up and seemed to swallow it whole, but Simba slipped into its core and began to feed it energy.
In front of everyone, the general fused with Simba and swelled, from under twenty meters to sixty.
Where Apocalypse had loomed over it before, he now looked like a child beside a towering adult.
Strength flooded the general. It turned, closed the distance in three strides, and sent Apocalypse flying with a single punch.
He came down in the desert and tore open a massive crater.
The general pressed the advantage relentlessly. Before Apocalypse could rise, a colossal foot came down. He rolled clear and tried to bury the general in sand with his palms, but the sand did almost nothing.
The general's scales turned it aside, and two mighty fists scattered the rest.
Realizing how exposed he was, Apocalypse leapt and floated higher, out of reach.
The general grabbed for him and missed, jumped and missed again, and again, never able to touch the floating figure. It roared in frustration. Useless.
Clark and the phoenix rushed in to force him down. Apocalypse was ready, holding against them without giving an inch.
It delighted him; the general couldn't fly. He decided to put Clark and the phoenix down fast, then whittle the big one down from range.
Kyle and Chris traded a look. Neither had expected it to get this awkward.
"Damn it. Apocalypse is shameless, won't face us straight. He never showed he could fly before!"
"It's not flying. He uses mental force to move objects and lift himself. Did you see how stiff he looked up there? It isn't true flight. Doesn't mean it isn't working."
Kyle fixed his eyes on the airborne Apocalypse and grinned.
"Where there's a will, there's a way. He brought this on himself. Don't blame me for what's coming."
Kyle sent his command to the ghost down their spiritual link.
Ghost shuddered, its form rippling, and breathed out a dense black mist that gathered into a vast cloud.
The cloud wheeled through the air, settled under the general's feet, lifted it, and gave chase.
"So that's the trick. I didn't think soul-bodies could be used like this." Chris knew ghosts well.
"One can't carry much. Enough of them, and it adds up."
Looking more closely, faces surfaced and sank within the black cloud, enough to unnerve anyone faint of heart.
This time, Apocalypse was the one thrown. His one advantage had turned on him. Now the others flew, and faster than he could.
Before he could react, the general's fist found his face.
Dizzied, out of control, Apocalypse crashed back to the ground.
The general gave him no room. With the soul-cloud thickening beneath it, the whole sky became its ground.
It seized Apocalypse and flew him from low to high, kicking him back up every time he neared the earth. His screams ran on without a break. A tragic picture.
"Yeah, get him! Hit him hard!" Clark crowed, all the fear from earlier pouring out as glee.
With the end in sight, everyone let out a breath. Magneto and Professor X, back at each other's side after years split by ideology, exchanged a glance that held all the turns their friendship had taken.
"Charles. I'm sorry," Magneto said, knowing how close his choices had come to costing his friend's life.
"It's all right. I understand your pain." Professor X forgave him, feeling the weight of what Magneto had lost.
Magneto let out a slow breath. The shame of facing his old friends sat heavy, but he set it aside fast.
He glanced at the battle, then turned his attention to Chris and the others, weighing what they were.
"Where did you find these little powerhouses? They're something. Without them, none of us would walk away from this."
"Ah." Professor X hesitated. After a moment, he admitted, a little awkwardly, "I don't actually know where they came from. But it seems they're tied to Moira's son."
Every eye turned to Moira. The attention made her uneasy.
"I understand the doubt. This is the first I've seen of what Chris can do. I never knew he was a mutant."
She couldn't shake her own skepticism. In her memory, Chris, her eldest, was quiet and withdrawn, a boy who rarely spoke.
The sharp, decisive figure on the field looked like a stranger wearing her son's face.
Still, Chris had never been anything but a source of pride.
Brilliant from the start, he'd finished college at twelve, earned a doctorate, and filed patents.
What Moira didn't know was how much of it traced back to Ernst.
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