So, it had happened again. Like the Shadow King, these mutants had had their minds torn from their bodies. But because they did not posses the telepathic powers necessary to retain their psychic form, the immortality the Shadow King had been able to attain was thus beyond them. Their consciousness had dissolved - faded away.
Her eyes caught the glint of metal on the man's chest. She pushed the jacket folds away, to reveal a crudely shaped cross, wrought of scrap metal.
He is a pastor, or a priest, she realised. And he was praying. That would explain why his hands are clasped together.
Slowly, she removed the necklace from the man's neck.
She rose from his side.
" We must find out who committed this monstrous act," she said aloud, not to anyone in particular. She was thinking... thinking of the time she had discovered the Shadow King's body. And she remembered how, days after the incident, she had thought of it...
... it must have been a truly painful death.
Jubilee came rushing towards them. " Guys, we have to go! The police are headed this way!"
Gambit, Rogue and Iceman leapt up. " Cm'on Storm - we gotta move, girl." Rogue pushed her to get her moving. Storm awoke from her memories, and followed them.
In her hand, she continued to clutch the metal cross.
When a person's body died physically, there was still, possibly, a hope for the soul to survive it. That was the basis of religion. But what if the soul was torn from a living body? What if the soul simply faded away? What was there left to save, or to believe in?
If there is a God... let him save the souls of these people, so that their faith might not go to waste. And we, of the living, shall fight to have their killers punished.
That, I promise we will do.