Bang, bang.
Heavy, solemn footsteps approached. All the mutant prisoners instinctively bowed their heads and stepped back, clearing a path for Apocalypse.
He stopped before the young man. Looking at the frail body supporting an oversized head, his drowsy, half-lidded eyes, then glancing down at the corpse beside him whose face had been reduced to a mangled mess, he murmured to himself, "An excellent psychic ability. If it were a little more unique, I might even take an interest in you. You would have the honor of becoming the final Horseman—'Famine.'"
"Hahh..."
The young man yawned and looked blearily at Apocalypse. His loose gray prison uniform hung crookedly from his body as he casually said, "My name is Jason. They gave me the codename 'Illusion Master,' and you call me 'Famine.' Whatever. I just want to sleep. I just want to pull everyone into my dreams. Then all the trouble will be solved."
Jason Stryker frowned and scratched the back of his head as he looked at the burly man before him, who stood far taller than him, with blue-gray skin and heavy armor covering his body.
Apocalypse lowered his head slightly. His eyes were a deathly white, utterly devoid of pupils. He placed one hand against the young man's forehead, and Jason felt his entire brain growing increasingly numb, itchy, and swollen.
"Of course you can do it, my child. Mortals will forever drown in your dreams. Their bodies will suffer hunger, pain, and cold, yet in the world of mind and spirit you create, they will be utterly fulfilled!"
Creak, creak.
Jason Stryker's skinny hands clutched his head, which ached as though it were about to split apart. The back of his skull swelled high, becoming even more disproportionate to his frail body. His scalp turned thin and