X-Men: Eternal Flight (Book Three) ON HOLD

Haze

"Not at the table son," Warren's father, Warren Worthington Jr. silenced his son's continuous tapping of his fork on the table.

Warren looked up from his plate, watching as his father returned to the conversation he was having with his wife. Warren slumped in his chair and twirled a strip of meat around, his eyes wandered around the room.

"Dear, eat some more, you're skin and bone," his mother interjected.

Sighing, Warren scooped up a mound of mashed potatoes on the end of his fork and stuck them in his mouth, his jaw slack as he chewed.

"Son, if you don't eat, you won't grow. If you won't grow, you won't learn the family business. Which means you won't be able to take my place when I retire."

Warren resisted to roll his eyes. He had heard these types of comments from his father many times. 

"Yes father," he replied. 

He returned twirling food around his plate as his mother and father talked of future business plans.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I had regained consciousness, I felt the fiery burning of my skin and chest. My eyes squinted as they opened, shutting quickly from the bite of the toxins in the air. My lungs burned with smoke as they coughed the pollutant out. I doubled over and threw up off to the side, blood splattering the dry ground. I continued to cough, the movements shaking my entire body. The air rushed in my lungs as they subsided, the squelch of blood entering my windpipe. I spit it out and rolled onto my back. 

Numerous stings pinged around my body as the burns on my skin healed themselves, the sound of skin knitting together making my stomach churn. I grunted as a bone popped itself back into place in my knee. 

For a few moments, I layed there, letting the nearly toxic air burn away at my insides. It was as if I was looking at an ink filled lake, nothing could be seen. The smoke swirled and danced around my face, clearing away some parts of sky. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed myself to my knees and looked around. In the smoke, I could barely make out hazing images of silhouettes. 

"Ororo?" my voice cracked viciously, causing me to cough again. "Logan?"

I heard a grunt, my eyes catching a shifting form against the ground a few yards away from me. The figure pushed itself upwards, earth and debris cascading down its back in gritty falls. 

"Uuuuugh..." their scratchy voice shook as they rid themselves of the dirt. "Kid?"

"Logan? You alright?" I asked, spitting out more gunk from my throat. 

He coughed. "Fine. Where's Ororo?" he got up, his figure becoming less disfigured as he came closer. 

"Not sure..." my voice caught the edge of worry.

"Don't worry about her, she's tough. Just in case, let's see if we can find her."

I nodded and got to my feet, more bones cracking and popping. 

"Where's that mutant?" I asked, sifting through metal chunks against the ground.

"Well, why you were acting hero I think it exploded."

I raised an eyebrow. 

"Don't ask me, that's all I remember. It knocked me out when it got you, I don't know what happened to Ororo."

"Storm!" I called, cupping my hands over my mouth. "Storm!"

"She might be unconscious, better to keep looking on the ground," Logan said and kicked something that looked like a metal door away. It landed with a loud bang.