X-Force: Beyond Omega

[Genosha]

Deep within the fortified research complex, Forge sat hunched over a console, his once-brilliant mind buried beneath layers of psychic fog and Sugar Man's twisted programming. His fingers moved with mechanical precision, assembling the final components of his latest creation. A device capable of fully rewriting the minds of even the most resistant ancient mutants.

The ancient mutants who were supposed to be their slaves began to act unusually and some even tried to break free of their mental restraints and brainwashing. So, Sugar Man had to find a solution before those monsters could tear apart Genosha. He put Forge to work.

'Damn those ancient freaks messing up our plans. Arg! I hate the resistance of those Proto-Mutants bastards. But I'm going to break them soon enough,' A brutal, inhuman laugh echoed behind Forge. "Ahh, Forgey-boy," Sugar Man sneered, his monstrous, four-armed form looming over the inventor. His jagged teeth gleamed under the sterile lab lights. "You've outdone yourself this time. Once this bad boy's up and running, not even the oldest freaks will be able to fight back."

Forge didn't respond. His eyes were hollow, his mind shackled, his will not his own. The genius mutant who once built weapons for the X-Men, for mutantkind's survival, was now crafting instruments of enslavement.

Sugar Man grinned, satisfied, before turning his grotesque head toward a nearby screen. Footage from across Genosha played in front of him. All the puppets were doing their jobs without any free will. Among those puppets were Havok, Boom Boom, Rictor, Wolfsbane, and many others. The Genoshan forces captured them when they attacked the island years ago with Magneto. Sugar Man brainwashed them and turned them into slaves and puppets.

[Sector 17 - The Execution Pit]

The scent of blood clung to the air like a curse.

A dozen mutants knelt in the dirt, their bodies broken, their faces hollow with exhaustion and despair. They had fought against their captors for as long as they could, but resistance was meaningless here. Their hands were bound behind their backs with inhibitor cuffs, their powers neutralized, their fate sealed.

Standing before them was Rahne Sinclair—Wolfsbane.

Her once-kind amber eyes were devoid of emotion, dulled by the psychic chains that bound her mind. Her blood-stained claws flexed instinctively, though she did not act of her own will. She was nothing more than a weapon, honed for slaughter, waiting for orders.

From the platform above, Havok stood over the big platform. He was wearing a black Magistrate uniform. The emblem of the Genegineer was stitched across his chest. He looked down at the kneeling prisoners and rebels who had dared to defy the system and spoke in a voice that carried no warmth, only authority.

"You know the penalty for treason," he said, his tone devoid of feeling. "No more trials. No more mercy."

He turned his gaze to Wolfsbane, his expression unreadable. "Kill them."

There was no hesitation.

Wolfsbane dropped to all fours, her bones cracking, muscles shifting as her body transformed into her lupine form. Her fur bristled, her fangs bared, and in an instant, she moved.

"Rawwrrr!!"

The first rebel barely had time to scream before she was upon him. Her claws dug into his gut, tearing through muscle and bone with ease. She wrenched upward, spilling his insides onto the ground in a steaming heap. His body convulsed before going limp, his eyes frozen in shock. Blood sprayed all over like a broken fountain.

"Mercy... Please..." A woman next to him sobbed, terror overtaking her, but Wolfsbane showed no recognition of her pain. She lunged, sinking her fangs into the woman's throat, tearing it open in a violent spray of crimson.

The others tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to run. The cuffs held them down, the guards encircled them, and Wolfsbane was faster than any of them could ever hope to be. She slashed, tore, ripped apart flesh as if they were nothing more than cattle in a slaughterhouse. Blood, flesh, limbs, guts... flew everywhere. It was like one of those body horror movies.

A young mutant, barely in his teens, sobbed, his hands trembling. "Rahne... please," he whispered.

For a brief moment, something flickered in Wolfsbane's dead eyes... something buried deep beneath the layers of control. But it was fleeting. The psychic programming reinforced itself, drowning out whatever piece of her remained.

She pounced.

"Kuggg!" His scream was brief, cut short as she ripped his head from his shoulders, the wet pop of vertebrae snapping lost in the wind. His blood sprayed her face, as his body began to jerk uncontrollably in a death dance.

The rest of the mutants, horrified, tried to move back away, to beg and plead, but they had no words left. They only had tears and hopelessness. And they were powerless to resist as Wolfsbane methodically moved on to the next target, ripping and killing with brutal efficiency.

She tore a woman in half, claws ripping her stomach wide open.

The last prisoner died...

Blood soaked the earth, pooling around the corpses. The execution pit was now filled with the crunching sound of bones being chewed and the feasting sound of Wolfsbane who was eating the flesh of the fallen rebels. Havok watched the scene with a cold expression before turning back, leaving the wolf girl to enjoy her meal.

[Sector 09 – The Slave Mines]

The mines of Genosha were a pit of despair, a place where the unwanted were worked until their bodies gave out. The air was thick with dust and sweat, and the groans of the dying mixed with the rhythmic clanking of pickaxes against stone. It was a factory of suffering, where mutants were not people, they were tools, flesh, and bone machinery, stripped of their wills, ground down until nothing remained.

And when a tool broke?

It was Boom Boom's job to throw it away.

Tabitha Smith stood at the edge of the pit, her arms crossed over her chest, watching as the newest batch of expendables was lined up before her. These were the ones who could no longer work. Their bodies are too weak, their hands too unsteady, and their breaths too shallow.

There were twelve of them, some barely clinging to life, others standing on shaking legs. They knew why they were here.

They knew what was coming.

A frail woman, her hair white with age, lifted her head. Her lips were cracked, her skin caked in dirt. She stared at Tabitha as if searching for something in her face, something human.

"You used to fight for us," she whispered. "You fought for the dream."

Boom Boom didn't react. The words meant nothing to her now. She had no dreams, no memories, no free will—only the command to execute.

One of the guards pushed an old man forward. His knees buckled, and he hit the dirt with a wet gasp. His ribs were visible beneath his tattered rags, his breathing labored. He wasn't sick, he wasn't injured... He was just… done.

And on Genosha, there was no place for the broken.

Boom Boom sighed, rolling her shoulders like she was shaking off some unseen weight. Then, without ceremony, she raised her hand.

A soft, golden spark flickered at her fingertips. It hovered there, pulsing gently, like a firefly in the dark. Then it grew.

The old man shook his head violently, his breath coming in desperate gasps. "No, please, don't..."

She flicked her fingers.

The energy sphere soared forward, slipping into his chest like a whisper. For a second, there was nothing. Just silence.

Then...@@novelbin@@

He detonated.

The explosion ripped him apart from the inside, bones snapping like twigs, flesh peeling away in a violent bloom of red mist. The blast was quiet, but the results were devastating... a burst of gore, a mess of meat where a man had been standing.

The others flinched, their breath catching in their throats, but they didn't scream. There was no point.

Boom Boom didn't blink.

She turned her gaze to the next one in line. A woman, no older than thirty, her face gaunt, her hands trembling. She clenched her jaw and stood taller, as if trying to face her death with dignity.

Boom Boom flicked her fingers again.

Another golden sphere floated lazily forward... a fragile, beautiful thing, almost delicate. It landed on the woman's chest.

She exploded.

Chunks of her body splattered against the walls. The ones who remained were coated in her blood, their faces speckled with bits of flesh and bone.

Boom Boom let out another bored sigh.

One by one, she erased them.

No screams. No mercy. Just soft golden lights and the quiet, wet sounds of bodies being blown apart.

When the last of them was gone, she wiped a speck of blood from her cheek and turned away, stepping over the remains without a second glance.

Her job was done.

The next batch of workers would be in the mines by morning and another batch of unlucky would be sent to the execution pits. Genosha was an eternal factory, constantly churning through bodies, burning away the weak and worthless, replacing them with fresh minds and obedient soldiers.

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