As The World Turns Cold

Epilogue

Mercy stood in front of the mirror in her tiny bedroom inside their New York Apartment.  The building was more of an unused fire department unit, but for the team it worked well as housing and headquarters.

Her room was covered in murals.  She had painted intricate designs of flames along the walls.  Mercy had to add a personal touch to the complex somewhere.  Her room served as a starting point.

  An array of clothes and various objects lay scattered about the room, covering the floor and furniture.  Now that she had more stuff than she knew what to do with, she was as unorganized as they come.  Mercy hadn't had such a problem in all of the years she had been locked up. 

With a quick glance at the mirror, Mercy adjusted the fabric of the uniform at her wrist.  The material was fitted, but allowed her body to remain flexible in times of combat. 

She reached behind and zipped up the back of the bodysuit.  It was a black faux leather design with sleek lines of green accentuating the edges.  The uniforms were new.  Something Terrance kept insisting on. 

Tired of hearing his incessant pestering, she had finally given in.  In the months since they had all met, Mercy had learned it was better to pick her battles.  From experience, the fighting she and Terrance had done tended to leave one or the other covered in clumps of dirt and charcoal.  It was a messy business getting into arguments with friends.

Her eyes scanned her reflection in the mirror.  She had gained several pounds of weight in muscle from the training sessions she participated in once a day.  Mercy spent hours lifting weights and leading hand-to-hand combat lessons with Rogue.

  Each team member had special drills to go through and each session lasted roughly four hours.  Though it was sheer agony at times, it was worth it.  They had grown stronger physically and mentally since forming the training drills and working as a team.

  Mercy smiled as she struck a ridiculous pose to test the flexibility and movement of the material.  Her hand came up to rest on her hip as she stretched the other hand above her head. 

At least Terrance had found them uniforms that allowed room to breathe.  His first suggestion was one that left the girls blushing in embarrassment.  Thankfully, the ladies of the group put their foot down on that option.  They finally came to an agreement with this one as it was sleek and fierce and they could each wear one without feeling ridiculous or too feminine.

They'd even started thinking as a team.  Their cooperation made ordering dinner and deciding the plans for the day easy.  After spending weeks upon weeks with each other, they had started liking and suggesting the same things.  There was no complaining on her side.

The Marauder's Guild had come a long way since that day in Phoenix.  It had only been five months, but things had changed for the better.  They lived somewhat peacefully in their humble abode in comparison to their days of paranoia and agents watching their every move.

The fight and accident with the building had been reported as a fire hazard.  The investigator on the case, Dennison Carlisle, claimed that the building had been built on broken gas lines.  He made sure the world believed the fire had been due to a gas leak.  No one even thought to investigate the ashes for the last remains of the evildoers.  It was nice to have someone on the inside of things for a change and Dennison was always keeping an eye out for them.

    A knock sounded on her door as Mercy sat on the edge of the bed.  She was reaching for her shoes.  Fishing them out from under the furniture, Mercy pushed her feet into the combat-ready footwear.

"Just one second!" Mercy called as she finished lacing her boots.  The black laces pulled tight against her calves as she made sure they were secure.   Mercy jumped up as the door opened.