Rogue Replacement: A Marvel Story

Chapter 93

Arc 7 - Ch 10: Sinister

Date: Tuesday, August 30, 2011.

Location: The Alley, Manhattan, New York

"Now, it's time to have a chat with the Marauders."

Tyson approached the attackers. Each was bound by metal, some in cuffs, others completely cocooned. But they were all alive. He hadn't stooped to their level of cruelty… yet.

The green-haired mutant groaned as she began to stir, consciousness returning slowly after being knocked out by Jessica. Her eyes fluttered open to see a metal dagger hovering only inches away.

Tyson warned, "Be careful. If you use your power, I might slip."

Though it wouldn't affect him with the helmet on, he'd see if anyone else nearby displayed symptoms of her using her ability.

Vertigo's grogginess quickly gave way to anger. "You," she spat, "You have no idea what you've done. He'll come for us. He'll come for all of you."

Tyson crouched down, meeting her angry gaze. "Who?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "Who sent you?" He'd somehow learned their names and powers during the fight, though he hadn't touched anyone. However it had happened, the memories faded quickly. He briefly wondered if there was something wrong with his power, Rogue's power, but pushed aside his concerns for the more immediate issues with the Morlocks and Marauders.

But before Vertigo could answer, a new voice cut through the chamber.

"That would be me, Mr. Smith. Or should I say... Mirage? Or Magneto? It's hard to tell with that helmet, you know. I wonder, is it growing hard for you to tell too?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Slowly, Tyson turned, his eyes scanning the shadowy recesses of a side tunnel. And there, standing in an alcove as if he had materialized from the darkness itself, was a figure that made Tyson's blood run cold.

Standing well over six feet tall, he watched the proceedings with an air of amused detachment. His face was handsome yet unsettling, with eyes that glowed an eerie red, and a matching red diamond adorned the center of his forehead. His raven-black hair was swept back, accentuating the paleness of his skin. He wore a black bodysuit with an elaborate high-collared cape that was split into a series of strips instead of one solid piece.

"I must say, I'm impressed. You've managed to subdue my Marauders quite handily. But then, I expected no less from someone of your... unique genetic makeup." His voice was silky smooth yet laced with menace. "Quite the stirring performance."

Tyson's fists clenched at his sides. "Sinister," he growled threateningly.

Mr. Sinister drew up short, his face registering surprise for a beat. Then he smiled cruelly. "Oh, you recognize me. I'm flattered. Though I must say, I'm surprised. You're better informed than I expected."

Tyson's mind raced, running through his metaknowledge. He'd slipped, but that wasn't his biggest problem at the moment. Sinister's presence changed everything. The man was a scientific genius, a manipulator of genetics. Tyson couldn't recall all the details but remembered one thing.

Mr. Sinister was a threat that the X-Men would often face. Not just one of them. The whole team.

The Morlocks shrank back as Sinister approached, their earlier hope giving way to fear. Tyson stood his ground, placing himself between the newest threat and the mutants he had sworn to protect minutes earlier.

"You are fascinating," Sinister continued, his eyes roving over Tyson with an intensity that felt like a physical violation. "A veritable smorgasbord of mutant abilities. And now, it seems, you've added another course to the meal."

"What do you want?" Tyson demanded, his body tensing for a fight.

Sinister's smile widened, and his red eyes gleamed unsettlingly. "Why, my dear boy. I came for one of the Morlocks. Like you, one of them had such an interesting mutation. But now that I'm here, I want you, of course. All of you are fascinating specimens. You see, you're all part of a much grander experiment. And I'm afraid the data gathering has only just begun."

"I've got some data points for you," Tyson threatened. He turned his palm upward. The air in the Morlock Grotto seemed to hum, and metal debris rose into the air. Guided by Tyson's magnetic power, the metal fragments separated and recombined, coalescing into a swarm of dagger-like projectiles. The makeshift blades hovered menacingly, aimed squarely at the pale villain standing before him. Mr. Sinister watched the display impassively. His red eyes glinted with amusement, utterly unimpressed by the young mutant's show of power.

To everyone's surprise, Sinister shivered in... excitement? "Oh my," he purred, "are you going to penetrate me with all those?"

Tyson blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected response. "What?" he said, voice trailing off in confusion.

Sinister's lips curled into a pout. "Why so hostile, darling? I'm just a humble scientist trying to unravel the mysteries of mutantkind. Is that so wrong?"

Tyson tilted his head and accused, "You created the Sabretooth clone."

Sinister's face lit up with pride as he dropped into an exaggerated curtsey. "Guilty as charged, my dear. One of my finer works, if I do say so myself."

He was having a hard time getting a read on Sinister. Was the villain messing with him, trying to get him to lower his guard? Tyson's eyes narrowed, and he pressed, "And the Spider-Man clones?"

At this, Sinister's expression soured. "Oh please, those aren't mine. Far too messy." His gaze flicked to Jessica. "Though I must say, this one's not bad. You can keep her. Not my type. And my god, I hope you do! I've been shipping you since JJ first mentioned you on his show months ago."

Sinister tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The first clone, though? Ugh. Putting that Humpty Dumpty back together would take a mountain of glue. Probably easier to crack him open, make an omelet, and eat him... or whatever it is you do to gain powers these days."

Tyson ran his tongue along his teeth, a clear sign of growing irritation. Sinister noticed and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Aww, come on, kiddo. Can't a proud papa drop by to see his favorite son?" He batted his eyelashes. "Call me Daddy just once, won't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Tyson demanded.

Sinister's hand flew to his mouth in mock surprise. "Oh my. So well informed that you knew me, but so naive that you didn't discover your origins in the process? Where do you think you came from, sweetums?"

He adopted an exaggerated Southern drawl. "Picture this. Pretty little white girl, Anne Marie, runs away from Caldecott County, Mississippi, all the way to the city. New York, the big apple, the one place she might find someone who can help her control her deadly touch."

"Then she wakes up a black man in the back of a truck in Canada..."

He paused, casting a flirtatious glance at Felicia and Jessica. "That's one word away from a video I'd very much like to watch if you catch my drift."

With a violent gesture, Tyson sent the swarm of daggers hurtling toward Sinister's chest.

The blades didn't reach their target.

With an almost lazy wave of his hand, Sinister halted their momentum, leaving them suspended motionless in the air. "Tsk tsk. Such a bad boy." Tyson pressed harder with his power over magnetism. Sinister lowered his voice to a whisper. "Oh, that's it. Flex for me, I like that. So strong."

With a sudden, explosive burst of energy, the daggers shot forward like a swarm of deadly, metallic bees. This time, Sinister's telekinesis was no match. The daggers pierced the geneticist's body, sinking hilt deep.

Sinister's eyes widened. Tyson thought he'd gotten one over on the villain. Until a low, husky moan escaped his lips.

"So rough," he whispered, his voice heavy with a sickening, almost orgasmic satisfaction. His fingers flicked outward, and the daggers, still lodged deep within his body, began to withdraw, slowly emerging from his skin. Blood didn't even trickle from the wounds as they sealed shut, similar to his own healing. The smile still fixed on the geneticist's lips grew wider.

"Oh, darling," he purred, his voice low and husky. "You have no idea what you've just done."

Sinister began pacing, his eyes roving over the Morlocks huddled behind Tyson. His gait was slow and deliberate as he surveyed the frightened mutants. Tyson narrowed his eyes, his body tense and ready for action. He didn't attack again, recognizing that Sinister seemed non-aggressive for the moment. He maintained a subtle hold on the array of daggers, ready to call them, including Muse, which was at his side. The Morlocks cowered behind Tyson; their fear was palpable. Some whimpered softly, while others stood frozen, barely daring to breathe as Sinister's gaze swept over them.

As he completed his circuit, he let out a loud, dramatic "Hmm." His theatrical display might have been comical if not for the menace he radiated. As he turned, his attention was drawn to where the bodies of the fallen Morlocks had been carefully laid out.

Tyson watched warily as Sinister approached the makeshift morgue. The geneticist's red eyes scanned the lifeless forms, pausing on each face as if cataloging their features for future reference. His gaze settled on a bald child, no older than twelve or thirteen. The sight of the innocent life cut short sent a fresh wave of anger through Tyson. Sinister seemed equally displeased as he studied the child's body.

"Idiots," he mumbled, his voice tinged with annoyance. He reached down to his belt, fingers closing around a small device. He pulled out what appeared to be a remote control.

Tyson tensed, suspicious. "What are you doing?"

Sinister didn't respond. His thumb descended, pressing the button with a soft click.

For a moment, nothing happened. The chamber fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Tyson's eyes darted between Sinister and the remote, trying to discern what the villain had just done.

Then, a strangled gasp broke the silence.

The Marauders, still bound, began to convulse violently. Their bodies jerked and twisted within their bonds, faces contorting in agony.

"What did you do?" Tyson demanded, his voice rising in alarm.

Sinister's smile never wavered. "Cleaning up loose ends, my boy. This batch was a failure. A simple retrieval turned into this." he said, waving his hands around all the bodies.

Vertigo's eyes bulged, her mouth opening in a silent scream as her body thrashed against her metal cocoon. Blockbuster's massive form shuddered, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. One by one, the Marauders' struggles grew weaker, their movements becoming more erratic. Riptide's body gave one final, violent jerk before going still. Harpoon's struggles ceased moments later, his head lolling to the side. Scrambler's eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped within his bonds.

Tyson turned back to Sinister, his face a mask of horror and fury. "Your own team?"

Sinister's red eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he surveyed the now-lifeless forms of his Marauders. "Oh, my dear boy," he said, his voice filled with mock sympathy, "Sometimes, you must prune the weak branches to allow the strong ones to flourish."

Tyson had wanted to stop the Marauders, to protect the Morlocks, but this... this was just as bad as their massacre.

"You... you killed them," Jessica choked out.

Sinister turned his attention to Jessica. "Oh, don't look so shocked, darling. They were merely pawns, expendable pieces in a much larger game." He waved his hand dismissively. "Besides, their genetic material is already cataloged. I can always make more if the need arises."

Jessica gasped. But instead of focusing on Sinster's cruelty, she dissected his words, particularly the ones he had said before murdering his minions.

"Wait. You implied that Tyson is a clone... that you made?"

Sinister's eyebrows shot up, his grin widening impossibly. "Ooh, does that excite you, Spider-Ladyboy?" He batted his eyelashes at her. "What gets your spider-sense tingling more? Tyson being a clone like you? Or the thought of waking up with him in the back of a truck after a long, hard ride?" He emphasized the words 'long' and 'hard' with a suggestive wink.

Felicia stepped forward. "Okay, Dr. Freak-enstein, let's dial back the creep factor. What exactly are you saying about Tyson's origins?"

Sinister clapped his hands together in delight. "Oh, I do love a woman who can keep up! It's simple, really. The first ingredient was a mutant gone Rogue after putting her boyfriend in a coma. Take out that southern bell and that Generation X chromosome, sprinkle in some milk chocolate, shove in that Y chromosome so the end is sticking out the crotch, and voilà!" He gestured dramatically at Tyson. "A perfect specimen, maybe a little rare at first, but now, definitely well done."

"You're lying," Tyson said, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Am I?" Sinister asked playfully.

Jessica moved closer to Tyson to stand protectively at his side. "Even if what you're saying is true, it doesn't change who Tyson is. He's a person, not your science experiment."

Sinister's laugh was cold and cruel. "Projecting, my dear?" he said with dark amusement.

Tyson mumbled, "I'm getting tired of all this clone bullshit."

"Don't worry, you're so much more than a mere experiment. You're a masterpiece!" Pride and greed warred in Sinister's expression as he gazed upon Tyson like a jeweler beholding a perfect diamond. "I thought you another failure, no better than these Morlock vagrants." His lip curled in disdain. "Yet now look at you. A billionaire celebrity CEO with such delightful new abilities. But you're right. There are too many clones running around this city. It's time to cull the herd. Can't have everyone else noticing what's going on behind closed doors. But first, let's just say daddy is very interested in running some tests."

Tyson's fists clenched at his sides, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not your son, and I'm sure as hell not going to be your test subject."

"Tsk, tsk," Sinister wagged a finger. "Is that any way to talk to your papa? I gave you life, my boy. The least you could do is let me take a few samples."

He puckered his lips into an 'O' shape and mimed a sucking motion.

When Tyson recoiled, Sinister let out an exaggerated sigh. "No? Oh, fine." He pouted theatrically, lower lip jutting out. "I'll let one of your lovely companions collect the sample as long as you let me watch."

His gaze raked over Jessica in a way that made her skin crawl. "I hope you pick the Unclockable Spider-femme." A mixture of hurt and anger flashed across Jessica's features. She opened her mouth to retort, but Sinister cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Aww, sweetie, don't take it personally," he cooed, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "It was a compliment. Besides, we all like to switch sides every once in a while."

As the words left his lips, a strange ripple seemed to pass over Sinister's form. Tyson, Jessica, and the others watched as Sinister's body began to change before their eyes. The transformation was unsettling but impossible to look away from. Sinister's broad shoulders narrowed, and his chest swelled outward into a generous bust. His waist cinched inward, and his hips widened to form an hourglass silhouette. The sharp angles of his face softened, cheekbones becoming more pronounced as full, lush lips replaced his thin, cruel smile.

Where Mr. Sinister had stood moments before, there was now a striking female figure.

Ms. Sinister.

Her skin retained its unnatural pale pallor. Her eyes, now framed by long, dark lashes, glowed with the same intense crimson as before but now held a seductive gleam. Her raven-black hair relaxed from being slicked back, and hung mostly straight, past her shoulders. Her lips, full and inviting, were painted a deep, blood red that matched the diamond on her forehead. The black bodysuit had adjusted to accommodate her new form, morphing into a corset that cinched her waist tighter, emphasizing the dramatic curve of her hips. Ms. Sinister's boots had transformed into thigh-high affairs that added several inches and helped to maintain her height.

She stretched languidly, like a cat awakening from a nap, seemingly enjoying the sensation of and showing off her new form. When she spoke, her voice was a sultry purr.

"Much better," Ms. Sinister said, appreciatively running her hands down her sides. "Now, where were we?" She took a step forward with an exaggerated hip sway. "Come now, don't be shy. Let Mommy dearest take care of you."

But she stopped short and stepped to the side, saying, "Oh, the honey badger is back."

As if on cue, Logan burst into the chamber, still locked in fierce combat with Sabretooth. Their feral growls echoed off the walls as they tumbled toward the group, a whirlwind of claws and fury.

Just as they were about to barrel into Sinister, the geneticist raised a perfectly manicured hand. With a flick of her wrist, her telekinesis sent both combatants flying towards the far wall.

Tyson's hand shot out to halt Logan's trajectory. His Magnetic manipulation grabbed Wolverine's adamantium-laced skeleton and brought him to a gentle stop at his side. Sabretooth, however, wasn't so lucky. He slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch, though his healing factor had him back on his feet in seconds. He skulked behind Sinister.

Logan growled, "All right, you egg-sucking piece of gutter trash!" but he stopped as he realized no one else was fighting. He relaxed his aggressive posture and asked, "Who's this lady?"

Tyson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't even know how to begin to describe this guy."

"Guy?" Logan said, confused.

Sinister's face lit up with delight. "Oh, you can start with fabulous, darling!"

Logan's eyes narrowed as he took in Ms. Sinister's appearance. "Nice boots," he grunted.

The compliment, however backhanded, sent Sinister into a tizzy of excitement. "Logan, my dear! You were absolutely my favorite part of working with Weapon X." She cast a disdainful glance at Sabretooth. "I should've kept you instead of this mangy furball, but alas, I was in my pet phase back then. We all make mistakes."

Turning back to Tyson, Sinister's eyes gleamed with an unsettling desire. "So, how about it, sweetums? You and Spider-Doll give me a sample, and I'll let you go. Keep your precious Morlocks, even the bodies of this batch of Marauders, since I'm feeling charitable." Her gaze flickered to a corner where Gambit stood tense. "Hell, I'll even throw in the spicy Cajun." Sinister wiggled her fingers in a wave and called out, "Hey Remy, don't think I forgot about you over there, mon chéri!"

Tyson responded with action rather than words. He grasped Muse and launched the Uru dagger at Sabretooth. The mystical blade pierced the feral mutant's chest. Before anyone could react, Muse reappeared in both of Tyson's hands. Again and again, he hurled the daggers at Sabretooth, each throw finding its mark.

Sinister watched the display with the air of a mildly amused parent observing a child's tantrum. "Oh, this is fun," she said, her tone bored despite her words. She turned back to Tyson with an exaggerated yawn. "Well, that was worth about ten seconds of entertainment. So, what's it going to be, son? Ready to give Momma a little sample?"

Tyson smirked darkly. "Sorry, pops. I'm not in the mood... On my period."

Sinister's face contorted in mock outrage. "If you keep acting like this, I will make you call me Daddy." Then, as if struck by a thought, she paused. "On your period... wait a minute."

Slowly, Sinister turned around.

Behind her stood not one but a dozen bloody forms in the shape of Sabretooth, each wielding one of the Uru daggers Tyson had thrown.

"Oh, bloody hell—" Sinister's quip was cut short as the blood elementals lunged at her and Sabertooth en masse.

The scene devolved into chaos as Sinister fought off the horde of Sabretooth blood elementals while the clone of Sabertooth himself was quickly overwhelmed. Her telekinesis sent several flying, but they came at her relentlessly, slashing with their Uru weapons.

"Now this," Sinister cackled manically as she dodged a swipe that came perilously close, "is bloody fantastic! Bravo, my boy!"

Logan, who watched the spectacle with confusion, turned to Tyson. "Mind filling me in on what the hell is going on?"

"Long story short: mad scientist, possible daddy issues, and a lot of crazy."

Jessica chimed in, pointing at Sinister. "They claim to be Tyson's creator."

Logan's eyebrows shot up. "Creator? Kid, you've been holding out on me."

"Trust me," Tyson gritted out, "it's news to me too."

"As entertaining as this is, what's the endgame here?" Felicia cut in.

She had a point. While the blood elementals were keeping Sinister occupied, they weren't doing any lasting damage. The geneticist was laughing maniacally as she fought, clearly more amused than threatened.

"Oh, come now," Sinister called out, "is this really how you want to spend our quality time? I had so many fun experiments planned!"

Tyson's jaw clenched. "The only experiment happening here is seeing how long it takes you to realize you're not welcome."

"Not welcome? My dear boy, I'm the life of this party! Besides," her voice dropped to a stage whisper, "I know you're curious…."

Felicia, her patience wearing thin, stepped forward. "Alright, Creepy McSciencepants, I think it's time for you to leave."

Sinister's eyes widened in mock fear as she forced a blood elemental back with a telekinetically-infused punch. "Oh my, so feisty! Kitty's got claws. I can see why our boy here keeps you around." She blew a kiss in Tyson's direction. "Don't worry, son. Daddy will be back for some quality bonding time soon enough. Maybe we can do a little father-son amputation? It's just for the flesh sample, I promise. You've got a healing factor, after all. It'll grow right back!"

"Last chance. Leave. Now. Or find out just how creative I can get with these daggers."

Sinister's eyes gleamed. "Very well, my boy. But don't think this is goodbye. It's more of a 'see you later, son.' Maybe I'll drop by for one of those shows you put on. I hear they're gag-worthy."

Ms. Sinister laughed as she continued to dance between the blood elementals' attacks. She reached for her belt and produced a pair of small, cylindrical vials. "Now, now," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I can't leave empty-handed. Mommy needs a little souvenir."

She thrust the vials through one of the blood elementals. A portion of the creature's form was drawn into the containers like water down a drain. The vial filled with a swirling, crimson liquid, but the elemental hardly lost any volume. Ms. Sinister's lips curled into a triumphant smirk as she corked the vials. "Thank you for the donation, darling. Mummy will put it to good use."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she unleashed a telekinetic energy wave, sending the creatures flying backward. She lost one of the vials with the motion. It clattered to the floor intact, but she paid it no mind. She had what she wanted and secured the other vial back on her belt.

"As much as I've enjoyed our little family reunion," Ms. Sinister called out. "I'm afraid I must be going. So many experiments, so little time!"

She began to back away, her telekinesis keeping the blood elementals at bay. Tyson, Logan, Jessica, and Felicia watched warily, unsure of her next move.

"Don't look so glum, my dears," she teased. "This is just the beginning of our beautiful relationship. Who knows? Next time, we might even have a proper party. I'll bring the condoms. Makes it easier to collect the samples afterward. Can't have stains all over the lab after all."

Tyson's fists clenched at his sides, his voice low and dangerous. "There won't be a next time."

Ms. Sinister's laugh was like tinkling glass, beautiful yet sharp enough to cut. "Oh, my sweet child. You don't get to decide that," she blew a kiss in Tyson's direction. "Until next time, my lovelies. Do try to stay out of trouble. Or don't. It makes things so much more interesting when you don't."

With those parting words, Ms. Sinister reached out with her telekinesis, dragging the bodies of the bald Morlock boy who'd been killed and what pieces were left of the now-dead Sabertooth clone to the tunnel entrance where she had first appeared. She gave one final mocking wave before disappearing into the darkness.

As the tension in the air slowly dissipated, Tyson let the Uru daggers clatter to the ground, where they and the elementals disappeared moments later.

Logan was the first to break the silence. "Well, that was... something."

Jessica moved to Tyson's side, her hand finding him in a gesture of silent support. "Are you okay?"

The hardness in his expression faded as he let out a long, shaky breath. "I don't know. I just... I don't know anything anymore."

Felicia walked over to where Sinister had dropped the vial of blood. She pocketed it and then began assessing the situation. "We need to get these people out of here," she said, gesturing to the still-frightened Morlocks.

Tyson nodded, grateful for the distraction of immediate problems to solve. Even as he turned his attention to the logistics of evacuating the Grotto and securing the bodies, not wanting to leave them for Sinister to return to collect, his mind churned with unanswered questions. But for now, there were people who needed help, a community to protect, and a promise to keep. Tyson squared his shoulders, pushing his turmoil aside. Right now, the Morlocks needed Mirage.

— Rogue Redemption —

The dank tunnels of the Grotto gradually gave way to wider passages as Felicia led the group of survivors toward the surface. At her side walked Jessica and Tommy, a Morlock woman whose pastel rainbow hair seemed incongruously cheerful given the grim circumstances. Tommy's intimate knowledge of the tunnel system proved invaluable as she guided them through the labyrinthine network.

"Left here," Tommy murmured. "This passage will take us directly to the access point near the Flatiron Armory."

Felicia nodded, grateful for the assistance. Tyson was at the rear of the procession, ensuring no one fell behind. Her eyes scanned the ragtag group of Morlocks, but her gaze returned to Jessica, who walked with her shoulders slumped and her eyes distant.

Jessica's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The revelation that Tyson was a clone had shaken her, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

Felicia fell into step beside the troubled hero. "Hey," she said softly, cutting through Jessica's reverie. "Don't let what he said get to you. Sinister's a grade-A creep."

"He... they weren't wrong about any of it," Jessica admitted. Felicia's eyebrow arched in a silent invitation for Jessica to elaborate. "I'm a woman cloned from Spider-Man. I remember my life as a man. Everything he said about me projecting... it was right."

"Everything he said was wrong, Jess. Every single word." Felicia disagreed emphatically, her voice firm but kind.

Jessica shook her head weakly, unconvinced.

Felicia decided to take a different approach. "Okay, let's try this," she said thoughtfully. "If I had my memories removed and replaced with a man's, what would that make me? A man, a woman, or something else?"

Jessica considered the question before answering, "You'd still be a woman."

"And why is that?" Felicia pressed gently.

"Because you were born a woman... because you are who you are, regardless of the memories in your head," Jessica replied, realization slowly dawning in her eyes as she spoke.

Felicia nodded encouragingly. "So why is it any different for you?"

Jessica fell silent, unable to find an answer as they continued their trek through the tunnels.

"Listen, Jess. Identity isn't just about memories or biology. It's about who you are, deep down. How you see yourself, how you feel."

"But how can I be sure? How do I know what's real and what's... programmed?" she asked uncertainly.

Felicia's laugh was gentle, devoid of mockery. "Oh honey, welcome to the human condition. Most of us can't tell what's real and what's social or societal programming. You're just doing it on a more existential level."

Despite herself, Jessica smiled slightly. "When you put it that way, it almost sounds normal."

"That's because it is normal," Felicia insisted. "Look, being a clone, having memories that don't match your current identity… that's difficult and confusing, no doubt about it. But it doesn't invalidate who you are now."

They rounded a corner, and in the distance, a faint glimmer of natural light could be seen as they neared the surface.

"Think about it this way," Felicia continued. "Every experience you've had, every choice you've made, that's all you. Not some scientist's programming. Not some memories from a man. You."

Jessica pondered this, her steps slowing slightly. "But what about the memories? The man's life I remember living?"

"They're just memories. Consider them an intense method-acting preparation. You've got insight into the male experience that most women will never have. That doesn't make you any less of a woman. It just makes you a woman with a unique perspective." Felicia shrugged. "You said it yourself. You were 'born' a woman. If you want to be a woman, consider yourself a woman, and you physically are a woman… There isn't much of an argument against you. You are a woman."

A chuckle escaped Jessica's lips, surprising even herself. "A unique perspective on the male experience. That's one way to put it."

"Hey, in our line of work, unique is par for the course," Felicia grinned. "You think anyone else around here has a 'normal' origin story? Just look at Tyson."

As they neared the exit, Jessica's steps became more confident, her posture straightening almost imperceptibly. "You're right," she said, "I may not have chosen how I came into this world, but I can choose who I am now."

Felicia's smile was warm and genuine. "Exactly. And for what it's worth, the Jessica I met today? She seems pretty damn amazing."

"Thank you. I... I needed that."

Felicia's response was to pull Jessica into a tight hug. "Anytime, Spider-Woman. That's what friends are for." When they continued walking, she asked, "So, how'd you end up caught in all this, anyway? Doesn't seem like the usual Spider-gig."

"Tyson ran into me on patrol right around your graduation. Then, this morning, I was sitting in class at ESU, and he picked me out instantly. Saw right through my secret identity like it was made of glass."

"And let me guess," Felicia interjected with a knowing glint in her eye. "He immediately took you in and tried to help?"

"Exactly," Jessica nodded. "It was... disarming, to say the least."

Felicia's expression turned wistful. "Yeah, I know that feeling all too well."

"It's different, though. You don't understand."

"Oh?" Felicia arched an eyebrow. "And how would you know?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Jessica spoke, her voice soft. "I... I have Spider-Man's memories. The rumors were true. He went to Midtown High. I was there, in a way, when he challenged you for that date in gym class."

"Well, that narrows it down." Felicia's eyes widened slightly. "Oh god, please tell me Flash isn't Spider-Man."

Jessica's laugh was genuine. "No, definitely not Flash."

"Small mercies," Felicia muttered.

Jessica continued, her tone more somber. "You had everything back then, Felicia. You were popular and had so many friends. It's no surprise the attractive new guy went after you." She paused, her gaze dropping to the sidewalk. "Me then? No friends, no money. And me now? The same, but also, no family. Nothing but these powers I never asked for."

Felicia's expression softened. "I get the picture. But I'll admit, I'm a bit jealous. You've already fought alongside him. After all these months, I still haven't had the chance. Not really."

"He's probably trying to keep you safe," Jessica offered. "And don't expect that to change anytime soon."

Felicia's brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"After what happened to Jubilee..."

Felicia froze mid-step. "What about Jubilee?"

Jessica realized too late the weight of what she had revealed. Her hand flew to her mouth. "I... I forgot you didn't know. I'm so sorry, Felicia. Magneto... Magneto killed Jubilee."

The color drained from Felicia's face.

"Were you close?" Jessica asked softly.

Felicia shook her head slowly. "Friendly. Not that close, no. But Tyson..." She let out a low curse. "He's going to be a mess."

"He's not doing too bad so far," Jessica offered, though her tone lacked conviction.

"That's because he needed to keep moving. He had to save me, save the Morlocks. But once this is done?" She shook her head. "You don't understand how much Jubilee meant to him."

They resumed walking, their pace slower now. Felicia's voice was quiet but intense as she continued. "She wasn't just his girlfriend. It was like... like she was his other half. They shared the same interests. Freaking nerds were always talking about gaming and anime. She was bubbly to his occasional brooding. She always knew exactly what he needed, and he provided what she needed in return."

Jessica listened intently, pieces of the puzzle that was Tyson falling into place.

"He was her family, her sustenance. She was a vampire, undead, and his blood literally gave her life," Felicia continued. "I can't say I wasn't jealous at how well they fit together." She paused, her expression troubled. "It's no wonder he killed and absorbed two people. But it's only going to compound the problem."

Jessica's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Felicia sighed. "When he absorbs someone, he gets more than their powers; he gets their memories and emotions. Everything that made them who they were. He's carrying the grief of Jubilee's death on top of killing Magneto and Healer. But it's more than that. Now he's got the psyche of Magneto, who killed Jubilee..."

"To Tyson, it'll be like he killed her himself." Felicia finished.

They walked in silence for a moment. Jessica hadn't considered it from that angle. She couldn't imagine how much that would weigh on him.

"What can we do?" she asked finally.

Felicia's smile was sad but genuine. "Be there for him. Listen if he wants to talk, and if he doesn't, distract him when he needs to forget."

"I can do that."

Felicia's expression was uncharacteristically vulnerable, nothing like Jessica remembered from her time as Peter at Midtown. "Thank you for telling me about Jubilee and for being here. I know we barely know each other, but..." She trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

Jessica asked, "What about you? How are you handling all this?"

Felicia waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, please. As far as kidnappings go, this was pretty mild. They nabbed me on my way home and dragged me underground through the subway ." Jessica's eyes widened slightly, but Felicia continued, her tone almost nonchalant. "They didn't even get to the torture part. Once I knew what they wanted, I spilled. I knew about Magneto. Tyson told me all about him and the Brotherhood, his little group of mutant supremacists. So, I played the lowly human card for all it was worth."

Suddenly, Felicia's demeanor changed. She hunched her shoulders, her eyes going wide and watery as she affected a trembling voice. "Oh, I'm just the secretary! Please don't hurt me! " The abrupt transformation was so convincing that Jessica found herself instinctively wanting to comfort her. Then, just as quickly, Felicia straightened up and winked mischievously.

"I'm so sorry for sleeping with my boss!" she said with a laugh as her voice returned to its usual confident purr.

"They ate it up. I gave the shapeshifter what she wanted, but it was wrong enough that Tyson should have noticed the difference pretty quickly." A sly smile spread across her face. "I'm sure me trying to seduce him got his attention pretty fast."

Jessica mumbled under her breath, "I'm sure it did," a hint of jealousy coloring her tone.

Felicia raised an eyebrow at the comment. Her smile turned curious. "Hey, you said you have Spider-Man's memories and went to Midtown High, right?" At Jessica's nod, she continued with a playful lilt. "Did we ever date?"

The question caught Jessica off guard, and for a moment, she was transported back to those high school hallways, seeing them through Peter Parker's eyes. In his memories, Felicia was gorgeous, vibrant, seemingly untouchable, and decidedly unapproachable.

Jessica burst out laughing. The sound was genuine and slightly rueful. "No, definitely not. I, or rather, he, was way under your radar."

"Really? Hard to imagine Spider-Man being under anyone's radar," she replied.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Jessica chuckled. "He was the definition of a wallflower. Science clubs and photography are not exactly in the popular crowd's orbit."

A thoughtful look crossed Felicia's face. "Huh. You know, now that you mention it, I remember a nerdy kid with a camera always hanging around."

"That was me. Always on the outside looking in, especially when it came to you."

Felicia's expression softened slightly. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, high school me missed out on a lot because I was too caught up in my own drama."

"Hey, we all have our high school regrets," Jessica said. "Though I guess in my case, they're more like inherited regrets."

"It must be strange having all those memories that aren't yours. How do you handle it?"

Jessica's pace slowed as she considered the question. "Honestly? It's a mindfuck most days." Felicia gasped and covered her mouth at Jessica's cursing, pulling another light laugh from Spider-Woman. "I have all these experiences, these feelings, but they're not mine. Not really." She paused, searching for the right words.

Felicia nodded, her expression thoughtful. "And the, uh, romantic memories? That's gotta be awkward."

A blush crept up Jessica's cheeks. "You have no idea."

Felicia's laugh was bright and genuine. "Oh, honey. We need to get you some memories of your own to balance things out."

The suggestion caught Jessica off guard, and she felt her blush deepen. "I... I wouldn't even know where to start."

A mischievous glint appeared in Felicia's eye. "Well, lucky for you, you've got me as a guide now. Trust me, when I'm done with you, those memories will be the least interesting thing in your head."

Despite herself, Jessica smiled. Felicia's confidence was infectious. "You know what?" she said, "I think I'd like that."

"That's the spirit! First order of business. We need to get you out of that costume and into a wardrobe that screams 'Jessica' instead of 'Spider-Man's leftovers.' Oh, and makeup, self-care is self-love."

As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed easily, and Jessica felt something shift inside her as they made plans for her 're-education' in the ways of being her own person.

She was Jessica Drew. And she was ready to start living her own story.