The video call screen flickered to life, revealing Jennifer Walters, the sensational She-Hulk, in a crisp white blouse—which, in true Jennifer fashion, showed just enough cleavage to remind everyone she was both professional and effortlessly glamorous.

Behind her, an immaculately arranged office came into view: bookshelves lined with thick legal tomes, a shining law degree framed neatly, and of course, a small statue of Lady Justice standing proudly on her desk.

Her smile widened at the sight of the Avengers.

"Did anyone order a lean, mean, sexy, and green lawyer?"

Tony Stark was the first to respond, grinning as he leaned forward.

"Jenni! My favorite green lawyer from this side of the galaxy."

Jennifer smirked, tilting her head. "Is there any other green lawyer gal you’re seeing, Tony?"

Tony hesitated. "Oh."

Janet Van Dyne laughed. "Jen, you look amazing with that long hair, oh my God."

Natasha Romanoff, ever composed, shook her head with an amused smirk. "Jennifer."

"Hey, Jenny," Clint Barton chimed in.

Jennifer grinned. "Clint, looking good."

Clint sat up straighter, adjusting his jacket. "Yeah, I’ve been training, you know. New—"

Her eyes flicked to the towering blonde Asgardian in the room.

"THOR!"

Thor Odinson beamed. "Hello, Jennifer of Midgard! It has been far too long since we last spoke! Tell me, shall we recall our most virile battles?"

"Totally," she replied with a wink.

Then her gaze settled on Bruce Banner, her cousin.

"Cousin!"

Bruce folded his arms, his tone dry but affectionate. "Jennifer."

Jennifer pouted. "No love for your kind?"

Bruce sighed. "You’re making quite an entrance."

She winked. "Oh yes, sorry. I’m glamorous like that." Then she turned back to Sam and Steve, flashing them a playful grin. "Now, let me say hello to the pretty boys—Sam, Steve, you’re both looking sharp. Steve, elegant as ever, sir."

Steve, ever the professional, nodded with a small smile. "Thank you, Jennifer. But now, I’d like to proceed with what we discussed."

Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "So, you actually got the Avengers to support mutant rights?"

Tony smirked. "We already did, Jen. We’re just cooperating with the X-Crowd now."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh really? Are they here? I need to talk to Storm—I was making Mandazi the other day, but I totally messed up the recipe. I need her to give me some tips."

Steve nodded. "We will put them in the call soon. I understand you have the documents in hand?"

Jennifer held up a thick stack of papers. "Neatly organized, filtered by relevance, date, and location. All categorized and cross-referenced, Cap."

Steve nodded approvingly. "Good job, Jennifer."

Jennifer flashed a smug smile. "Discipline is important, Steve."

Then Steve’s tone became more serious.

"Before we press forward with the X-Men, there’s a person I’d like you to meet."

A second screen popped up, revealing The Alamo.

Dressed in his black cattleman hat, chrome mask, red glowing eyes, and black uniform adorned with a white star, he looked every bit the mysterious vigilante. Behind him was a massive corkboard covered in newspaper clippings, financial statements, photographs, red string connecting them in a chaotic, web-like formation.

It was as disorganized as Jennifer’s was pristine.

Steve gestured to the screen. "Jennifer, this is Duncan Nenni, also known as The Alamo. He’s been working with us and the X-Men."

Alamo nodded politely. "Thanks, Cap. Pleasure bein’ here with the Avengers, Miss Walters."

Jennifer’s flirtatious smirk returned instantly.

"Sweetie, are you shy, or is that mask to cover how handsome you are?"

Alamo snorted behind the mask, flustered, but kept his cool.

"Ahem. It’s a personal statement, ma’am."

Jennifer tilted her head, studying him. "I like it. Little edgy. But I like my men sharp."

Steve sighed deeply. "Jennifer, please can you not?"

Jennifer grinned unapologetically. "Sorry, Cap." Then she leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "So you’re my lawyer contact from Texas, Alamo?"

Alamo adjusted his hat slightly. "I’m an economist, actually."

Jennifer’s flirty expression instantly dropped into one of barely-contained distaste.

"A dismal scientist."

Alamo crossed his arms, his voice even but firm. "A proud one too. I ain’t takin’ the bait."

Jennifer smirked. "Too bad. I bet you wanna liberate the mutants so freedom will trickle down or something."

Alamo’s tone went cold.

"Very, very cultured comment. Astoundin’ homework you’re doin’."

Jennifer leaned back, enjoying the challenge. "Oh? When do the lessons on methodological individualism start, Mr. Economics?"

Alamo’s voice didn’t waver. "I can be very precise if you wanna actually know what that is."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, grinning wickedly. "Says the man with the corkboard, hat, and coat. Where’s your inkblot mask? Maybe you should dress all in white instead, Mr. Alamo."

Alamo tilted his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, bless yer heart. I’m very sure there are other socially just heroes in green who’d quiver from laughin’ at yer poignant humor."

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can you both not?"

The two stubborn intellectuals glared at each other through their screens before simultaneously sighing.

"Fine," Jennifer relented.

"Mighty fine," Alamo echoed.

Jennifer pulled out a printed sheet covered in highlighted financial balances and comments.

"So, you did this?" She held it up.

Alamo nodded. "Yeah, I did."

Jennifer studied it, eyebrows raising slightly. "Not bad work, Mr. Alamo."

Alamo gave a small nod. "Much obliged, ma’am."

Jennifer smirked. "I am surprised you didn’t put a graph in here, given your background."

Alamo chuckled dryly. "Yer a lawyer. Puttin’ a graph there would be about as useful as lipstick on a pig."

Jennifer blinked. "Never heard that in my life. That a Texan thing?"

Alamo tilted his hat slightly. "Sorta, it's shared among some state lines, trust me ya'll know soon nuff"

Jennifer laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, fine. Moving forward, I’ll reach out to the X-Men."

Steve nodded. "All good here, Jennifer? Duncan?"

Jennifer grinned. "Perfectly fine, Captain."

Alamo smirked behind the mask. "Mighty fine with me, Cap."

The stage was set—now, all that remained was to bring the X-Men into the conversation.

Alamo and She-Hulk sat in an uneasy truce, both of them silently acknowledging that their earlier sparring would have to be set aside—at least for now. Neither seemed too eager to reignite their debate, though it was clear from their body language that neither had forgotten it either.

The call opened up, and soon, another meeting table appeared on the screen. It was not unlike the one the Avengers had gathered around, except this time, it was occupied by a different set of heroes—mutants. Professor Charles Xavier, Cyclops, Phoenix, Wolverine, Beast, Rogue, and Gambit sat around the polished surface, their postures ranging from serious to casual, depending on the individual. The younger members of the X-Men were noticeably absent—this was a conversation for leaders, not students.

Professor Xavier, ever composed, inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of Captain America’s presence.

“Professor.”

“Captain.”

His gaze flickered over the assembled Avengers, then settled on the masked figure next to She-Hulk.

“I see you have company.”

Captain America nodded. “Professor, I know you are acquainted with Alamo here.”

Xavier smiled, though there was a certain curiosity in his expression. “Yes, I know of Mr. Nenni. Unfortunately, not personally—yet.”

Alamo didn’t react at first, but from the opposite side of the screen, Rogue smirked, her sharp green eyes taking in the company. She hadn’t expected him to be here, not with the Avengers, not on a call with the X-Men. And yet, there he was, looking as sharp and mysterious as ever in his signature black coat and chrome mask.

Alamo noticed the smirk, and though his face was hidden behind the mask, he knew a simple smile wouldn’t communicate much. So, he did something else—he reached up and rubbed the spot on his mask where she had kissed him three days ago.

Rogue blinked. Her breath caught for a split second.

She shook her head lightly, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. She bit the inside of her cheek, turning her eyes away slightly, shaking her head as if to clear it.

Nobody else had noticed.

Nobody except Captain America.

Steve narrowed his eyes slightly at the silent exchange but said nothing. He let the conversation continue.

“This is Jennifer Walters, Professor, X-Men.”

Xavier turned his attention toward She-Hulk and nodded politely. “We know of her too, Captain. She-Hulk, is it not?”

Jennifer smiled broadly. “The one and only.”

Across the X-Men’s side of the screen, Gambit shuffled a deck of cards between his fingers absentmindedly, but his attention had definitely shifted to the tall, green-skinned woman on the other end of the call. His red-on-black eyes lingered, studying her.

Jennifer was perceptive—she always had been—and she caught the look immediately. Instead of brushing it off, she brushed her hair back behind her ear, fidgeting slightly with the ends of her locks, and smirked.

Alamo, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes hard behind his chrome mask.

“Jennifer Walters, attorney-at-law,” she continued with an air of confidence. “Meanest, greenest... sexiest lawyer in all of New York.”

Tony Stark arched an eyebrow in amusement. Natasha let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. Bruce simply shook his head.

Gambit grinned, flicking a card between his fingers before setting it down on the table.

“Dat right, chére?” he asked, the words slipping out almost unconsciously.

A brief silence fell over the room.

Jennifer’s smirk widened, her gaze locking onto Gambit. “Oh, yes, Cajun. That is very right.”

The pause hung heavy for a split second.

Then Gambit leaned back, folding his arms with a satisfied expression.

“Trés bien. Gambit was lookin’ for a lawyer anyway.”

Jennifer hummed, clearly enjoying the attention. “Oh, I so like your accent.”

Alamo tilted his head slightly, muttering to himself.

“This can’t be real right now.”

Tony Stark chuckled, but Natasha merely rolled her eyes. Bruce, expression unamused, simply shook his head again.

Captain America cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back on track.

“Professor, we believe that since this is a mutant issue, we’d like to bring the X-Men to the forefront of the operation.”

A flicker of surprise passed over some of the X-Men’s faces. This was not the usual way these things went.

And then, there was the moment Rogue and Captain Marvel locked eyes.

The tension was immediate.

Carol’s jaw clenched slightly. Rogue’s smirk disappeared.

For a brief second, Rogue looked like she wanted to say something. But then, she turned her eyes away, as if she couldn’t face Carol directly.

Carol watched her for a moment longer before looking away as well, her expression unreadable.

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If anyone noticed the exchange, they didn’t comment on it.

Instead, it was Xavier who spoke.

“I’m surprised and thankful, Captain.” He nodded slightly. “You have been with us since the beginning, when we first discussed the creation of the X-Men. And we are very glad to have your help now.”

Cyclops, seated beside Xavier, remained rigid. His jaw was tight, his expression controlled—but the tension was there.

Steve’s presence wasn’t the issue. Alamo was.

Scott hadn’t forgotten how Alamo had criticized the X-Men in Florida. Or in Houston. And moving forward, he didn’t expect anything different.

There was something about this that didn’t sit right with him.

And there was something else, too. The way Rogue had smirked at Alamo earlier. The way she had flushed slightly, just for a moment.

Scott didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like how it looked.

Then, She-Hulk spoke.

“We believe in a just, equitable, and bright future for mutantkind, where the oppression of humans might be left behind, and we can repay the bigotry we caused.”

Wolverine and Rogue raised their eyebrows at that. Jean nodded thoughtfully, but Storm’s agreement came slower, more deliberate.

Behind his mask, Alamo rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out.

Then, he scoffed.

It was quiet—but it was still heard.

Xavier turned his gaze toward him.

“Any problem, Mr. Alamo?”

The masked Texan exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk.

“Naw.” His voice was even, controlled. “Go on, She-Hulk.”

Jennifer raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The conversation was about to get interesting.

She-Hulk dove into legal details with the precision of a seasoned attorney, outlining the Sentinel Project Directive from 1986 and the numerous regulations that followed—1995, 1999, 2001, 2005, 2009, and 2014. She elaborated on how military-controlled Sentinels required explicit congressional approval before deployment and how any private ownership or unauthorized usage of Sentinels was highly illegal.

Her tone was sharp, confident, and methodical, laying out the regulatory framework as if she were arguing a case before a judge.

But then Alamo cut in.

His voice was just as precise, but instead of legal jargon, he spoke in financial terms.

He pointed out that special addendums could be made to allow private military companies (PMCs) to operate under Department of Defense (DoD) authority. The real question was:

Did Carraro have DoD authorization?

Then, he segued into financial details, tying Carraro’s funding to former high-ranking officials from the Department of Defense and the Department of Justice. But those individuals were no longer in government—they had left their posts just before these transactions started.

Carraro had been careful, keeping their direct connections to Trask hidden, but the numbers didn’t lie.

Alamo broke down financial statements, returns, cash flows, and risk-adjusted yields that made little sense—investments that were paying out far above a reasonable Internal Rate of Return (IRR). These were the kinds of figures that only made sense if they were getting secret backing.

It was a corporate shell game, designed to obfuscate the real money trail, but to a trained eye, the irregularities stood out.

That’s when Cap stopped them both.

“We can go into the financial and legal details later. Right now, we need to let the X-Men know our next steps.”

She-Hulk took a breath, glancing at Alamo, before nodding.

“We understand, Captain. Go on, please.”

Steve nodded, his expression firm.

“In SHIELD custody, we have Clara Page and Carl Denti—the Leper Queen and the X-Cutioner.”

The air in the room grew heavier at the mention of their names.

“The Leper Queen,” Steve continued, “the one who attacked both teams in Houston. And the X-Cutioner himself. We can try to use them as witnesses to Trask’s crimes. Confessions.”

Jennifer nodded in agreement.

“Yes, we could use them as direct evidence in the case. If we can get them to talk, we might be able to tie Trask directly to the illegal Sentinel activity.”

Cyclops had been listening carefully, but now he leaned forward, his expression serious.

“Would this better our position to achieve coexistence?”

His question hung in the air, the word coexistence carrying more weight than just a legal victory.

Steve met his gaze evenly. “We believe so, Cyclops. With this, we could also introduce new regulations to ensure fairer treatment of mutants.”

Alamo’s posture shifted slightly, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. Something in She-Hulk’s words didn’t sit right with him.

Then she spoke.

“Mutants are an oppressed minority. We want to make sure that if this unequal treatment happens, mutants are given protections to compensate for years of oppression.”

The room fell silent.

Even the X-Men, who had fought against oppression for years, said nothing.

Then came the sound of a sarcastic chuckle.

Alamo’s low, dry laugh broke the quiet, followed by mock applause.

His slow, deliberate claps echoed through the conference room, his tone thick with disdain.

It unsettled Captain America. It unsettled Professor Xavier.

Everyone was watching him now.

Then he spoke.

“Well, ain’t that mighty fine. You ain’t even a mutant, and here you are, moralizin’ ‘bout the oppressed.”

She-Hulk’s green eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from professional confidence to a hint of irritation.

Alamo leaned back in his chair, his voice sharper now, cutting through the tension in the air like a blade.

“This ain’t 'bout no damn minority. This is about liberty.”

The weight of his words settled on the room, his Southern drawl making each syllable feel deliberate, forceful.

“Our individual rights ain’t bein’ respected. Little does it matter if people like us or not. Bigotry or not, what matters is that we can’t keep our damn jobs or keep our families safe.”

His words weren’t an appeal for sympathy—they were a condemnation.

“Mutants ain’t simply from a different ethnicity or sexual orientation. This ain’t just some civil rights movement.”

His voice lowered slightly, but it was no less intense.

“These people have damn powers. Powers that can kill.”

He turned his head toward She-Hulk, though his chrome mask gave no expression.

“Don’t pretend to understand mutants so you can do this highfalutin speech ‘bout bein’ a savior of oppressed people.”

The room was silent once more, but this time, the tension was thicker.

She-Hulk’s green eyes flashed, her patience finally wearing thin.

"Oh yeah? And what do you want me to do? Ignore the lives of the mutants lost? Huh? Those who died because of the fascist FoH? Because of the fascist X-Cutioner?"

Alamo let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head slightly.

"Fascist this, fascist that... Everythin’ is fascism. Y’all are just damn makin’ straw men at this point. They're authoritarian anti-mutants, sure, but not everyone in the FoH has a portrait of Mussolini on their wall."

Jennifer scoffed, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"You know exactly what I mean by fascist. Don't pretend to be an idiot. The cult of personality"

Alamo leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering, deliberate.

"This is a cult of personality they have around—what? Creed? Denti? Seriously? How many mutants out there are wearin’ ‘Magneto Was Right’ shirts and other edgy shit like that?"

The room shifted, the tension palpable now. Rogue inhaled sharply but said nothing, her eyes flickering between them. Wolverine merely folded his arms, but his expression hardened.

Alamo pressed on.

"Magneto killed a lot of people. Just ’cause innocent mutants died, it don’t absolve bad mutants from the shit they done. Two wrongs don’t make a right."

Jennifer didn’t back down, her expression tightening.

"Exactly. That’s why we should push for further protections for mutants. Protect their new rights. Their lives. The role of the state should be to protect these targeted minorities, to assure they’re not being targeted—"

Alamo interrupted her with a dry, bitter chuckle.

"We should have rights protected ’cause we’re mutants’? No. We should have our rights protected ’cause we’re individuals under the law., Ideally. Rights are not given, they're only taken. The role of the state is to settle disputes and protect individual rights from those tryin’ to violate ’em."

Jennifer narrowed her eyes, leaning forward now, the challenge clear.

"Eugh, you should brush up on your Rawls. There’s a duty to those who are oppressed—"

Alamo tilted his head slightly, his tone mocking.

"Well too bad, ya should read Nozick then. The state—"

Then it hit them both.

A sudden, piercing pain shot through both She-Hulk and Alamo’s heads, sharp and immediate.

The room went dead silent.

Jennifer winced, her teeth clenching as she instinctively pressed her fingers to her temple.

Alamo stiffened, his gloved hand twitching slightly, his chrome mask still hiding whatever grimace had crossed his face.

Their argument stopped instantly.

And then, all eyes widened as they realized what had happened.

Seated at the X-Men’s table, Professor Charles Xavier’s expression was unreadable. His right index finger was pressed against his temple, the air around him thick with psychic energy.

His voice was sharp, commanding, and echoed within their minds like a bell tolling in the distance.

"ENOUGH!"

It wasn’t just spoken—it reverberated through their very consciousness, like a hammer striking against stone.

Alamo and She-Hulk both froze, the sheer force of Xavier’s voice overpowering their thoughts for that single moment.

Then, his tone shifted, lower now, but no less heavy with authority. Now in real words, to everyone.

"I will not allow the fight for coexistence and the lives of our people to become soapboxes for your personal political ideologies."

The words cut deep—not just for them, but for everyone in the room.

Xavier’s piercing blue eyes swept over both of them, unblinking.

"Your petty political differences have no bearing if you are squandering our fight with your squabbles."

Jennifer exhaled slowly, the psychic pressure lifting from her mind.

She cleared her throat, composing herself before she spoke again.

"Ahem… sorry, Professor Xavier."

Alamo sat in silence for a moment, his jaw tightening beneath his mask before he gave a small nod.

"My apologies, Professor Xavier."

The room remained quiet—but the weight of Xavier’s words still hung thick in the air.

Captain America’s voice cut through the tension, steady and firm, carrying the weight of decades of experience.

“Heroism is not about politics.”

The room fell completely silent as he spoke, his words deliberate.

“It’s about trying your best to protect others, to protect your nation, your community. Politics can divide. It can create friction among families, among communities. But what we do—what all of us do—should not be about drawing lines. It should be about protecting the innocent, no matter who they are.”

He let those words settle for a moment.

Then, Alamo raised a hand slightly, tilting his head toward Cap.

“Cap, I’m sorry to interrupt, y’all have to forgive me here, but may I speak again?”

Steve’s gaze settled on him, unreadable.

“Control yourself, and you shall.”

Alamo nodded, taking a measured breath before continuing. His voice was calmer, but no less passionate.

“Well, just a finishin’ argument here. I’m sorry I politicized this conversation, but this needs to be said.”

Jennifer folded her arms, watching him carefully. Rogue’s expression was hard to read, her eyes flickering between Alamo and Professor Xavier. Wolverine exhaled quietly, not taking his eyes off the man in the chrome mask.

Alamo continued.

“I respect Jennifer’s view. I really do. But this ain’t ‘bout race, or sexual orientation, or gender. Mutants ain’t black people, they ain’t gay people... mutants have powers. Powers that can hurt other folks.”

His voice remained steady, but his words carried a blunt, cutting weight.

“You could give an M249 SAW to every damn house in this nation, a Sentinel blaster to every person, some mutants would still shrug it off. This will never be ‘bout equality ‘cause mutants will never be equal. Hell, we ain’t even equal amongst ourselves. Wolverine there’s got a healin’ factor and claws. Cyclops has optic beams. Storm can control the damn weather. That ain’t just ‘diversity’—that’s somethin’ else entirely.”

Scott Summers’ jaw tightened slightly, but he remained silent. Storm simply nodded once, acknowledging the point.

“So don’t make this just another issue like all the others. It ain’t.”

Alamo’s voice lowered, though it still carried across the room.

“You only disrespect the memory of humans who actually died from mutant violence by puttin’ a blanket statement over all this. Mutants ain’t ‘oppressed’ in the same way. We’re feared. And there’s justification ’nuff for that.”

He let the words settle, glancing at the X-Men.

“Most of us don’t deserve violence, but some of us chose it as their way of life. So there’s no such thing as ‘mutants’ in the way y’all are talkin’ about. Ain’t no monolith. Ain’t no ‘we.’ There’s just a mutant. One at a time. A group can’t be good or bad. A species can’t be good or bad.”

His chrome mask tilted slightly toward She-Hulk.

“Individuals are good or bad. So don’t patronize us with this sanctimonious speech like we’re all victims. Some of us are.”

His red-glowing eyes narrowed slightly.

“Some of 'us' are damn terrorists.”

The room was heavy with silence.

Even the X-Men were quiet.

Even the Avengers.

She-Hulk, normally quick with a snarky retort, simply exhaled, her brows furrowed in thought.

Her voice was quieter now, but measured.

“Can I answer that, Captain?”

Steve looked between the two of them, then nodded once.

“Go on. But no replies. We move forward from here. No more politics.”

Professor Xavier nodded in agreement.

Jennifer turned back toward Alamo, her expression softer than before, but her conviction unchanged.

“Well, I respect your opinion, even though I’m not a huge fan.”

Alamo tilted his head slightly, waiting.

“I understand that mutants have powers. That mutants are individuals, not just a group. But if we focus only on individuals, if we expect everyone to just pull themselves up by their bootstraps, this anti-mutant campaign will never end.”

She shook her head.

“And more people will die.”

Alamo remained silent, listening.

Jennifer continued.

“Mutants are oppressed. Not because some of them are, but because most of them have no chance not to be in the first place.”

Jean Grey’s lips pressed together at that. Xavier’s gaze remained steady.

“Yes,” Jennifer admitted. “A lot of them aren’t victims. But that’s because they have the powers to make sure they aren’t. What about the ones who don’t? The ones who can’t fight back? The ones whose mutations don’t give them an edge?”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“I know the X-Men are trying. I know they fight for their own. But we have to do more. We have to correct the injustices. Even if only for the memory of those who passed.”

Alamo narrowed his eyes slightly behind the mask.

Then, he nodded.

“Fair—But—”

Captain America’s voice cut him off.

“No, Duncan. Enough.”

Steve’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“You’ll have time to finish this later.”

Alamo stopped, exhaled, and gave a short, almost reluctant nod.

“Understood, Cap.”

Steve turned toward Jennifer.

“Understood, Jennifer?”

She held Alamo’s gaze for a moment longer, then leaned back, crossing her arms.

“Yes, Captain.”

Captain America stood firm, his posture unwavering, as he addressed the gathered heroes. The tension from earlier had settled into a more focused determination—the weight of the mission ahead replacing ideological friction.

“Like I stated previously, SHIELD has custody over the Leper Queen, the killer of Thomas Thompson, and Carl Denti—the X-Cutioner..”

The mention of those names, again, cast a shadow over the room.

Cyclops’s jaw tightened immediately. His voice was even, measured, but there was a distinct edge of cold fury.

“Yes, Captain.”

The others weren’t as restrained. Wolverine’s upper lip curled slightly in disgust, his hand flexing just enough for the metallic gleam of his claws to be visible before he reined himself in.

Jean’s expression remained collected, but her eyes flickered slightly, a flash of something dark—a memory, perhaps, or just the sheer weight of what these names meant.

And then, there was Rogue.

She didn’t say a word. But she didn’t have to. The incident in Arkansas still echoed in her mind—the screams of Thompson’s family, the devastation of the aftermath, the sight of the Leper Queen standing outside with a rifle outside, smoke rising from its barrel.

She wasn’t the only one remembering.

Jean and Scott glanced at her briefly, and though no words were exchanged, there was an understanding. They had all been there.

Steve continued.

“All information we have on them will be important. I already spoke with Fury about it—he hasn’t taken it fondly to bring the X-Men into this, but I convinced him to allow it.”

He glanced at Sam Wilson, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“Sam will be with me. He’s an Avenger, but also a skilled social worker. He’ll be able to get something from them.”

Xavier listened carefully, then nodded.

“And as for the X-Men?”

“Phoenix, Wolverine, and Cyclops will be the only ones following me to D.C.”

Scott exhaled sharply, nodding. “Reasonable enough, Captain.”

Xavier agreed. “It is a sound decision.”

Steve didn’t let the moment linger.

“There is also the pressing matter of Graydon Creed.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“After what happened with Denti in Dallas, he came armored to Houston. Creed is still out there. Every second he’s not found, he’s active somewhere.”

The urgency in Steve’s voice wasn’t lost on anyone.

“He is the prime connection to Trask. If we find him, it is likely we will find Trask.”

Then, Tony Stark chimed in, arms crossed.

“Couldn’t Xavier find him? Don’t you have that helmet that allows you to listen to all thoughts around the globe?”

Xavier remained composed. “Cerebro, yes. But we have found that Trask has technology that blocks my ability to reach him—or any telepath.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Not unlike the helmet Magneto wore.”

Xavier nodded solemnly. “Precisely.”

Tony exhaled sharply. “Very convenient.”

“It is not a coincidence, Mr. Stark.” Xavier’s voice was calm but firm. “Trask knows the X-Men would reach for him the moment his name was spoken in this investigation.”

Steve leaned forward slightly.

“Which brings us to Creed. Could you find him, Professor?”

Xavier shook his head. “Similar to Trask, we couldn’t locate him.”

Tony sighed. “It’s likely they either have the same tech, or they’re together wherever they are.”

Wolverine huffed. “Wouldn’t surprise me none.”

Steve nodded.

“Yes. After Denti was arrested, the FoH lost its field leader. They’re too weak to strike.”

She-Hulk spoke up next.

“We should work on warrants against the FoH.”

Steve nodded again. “Yes, Jennifer. That would be wise.”

Then Rogue leaned forward, resting her arms on the table.

“Cap what 'bout that office in Chicago”

Steve turned to her. “Goo reminder, Rogue. Rogue found that Creed has an office in Chicago”

“Yup. Ah got some memories from a scientist in Oregon. Like Ah told Cap an’ Alamo ‘fore, Ah know where it is. Sorta.”

That solidified their next move.

Steve took a breath. “That’s why we have to find him—or find a way to find him there.”

Then Cyclops interjected.

“We should send a team. Since you’re heading to Washington with us, let Storm, Rogue, Jubilee, and Gambit go.”

Steve considered it for a moment. It was a good tactical balance.

“Yes.” Then he turned toward his own team. “Janet and Tony should go with you.”

Tony smirked. “Road trip with the X-Men? Count me in.”

Then, Alamo spoke up.

“I’ll go.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“If there’s any invoice, transfers on payments, emails Trask sent to Creed—it’s there. I oughta know.”

She-Hulk nodded once.

“Well, I need legal documents too. I’ll go with them.”

Thor, who had remained mostly silent until now, turned to Steve, his deep voice filling the space.

“And what of us, Captain Rogers?”

Steve looked at Carol Danvers.

She had been aloof for most of the discussion, lost in thought.

She noticed his gaze, straightened, then nodded.

“Steve.” Her voice was clear now.

"Carol could you fill my position here?"

“Yes. Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye remain?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, that would be the roster.”

Hawkeye leaned back, grinning slightly. “That team could stop a Chitauri invasion.”

Steve didn’t react. “That is my hope.”

Then Natasha leaned forward, arms crossed.

“Shouldn’t I go too, Steve? Information is part of my job. I’m confident the others can handle an invasion more than I can.”

Steve met her gaze, calm but unwavering.

“I’d prefer you stay, Nat. You are an extremely resourceful operator. If there are layered cyber threats or less obvious enemies, you’d be the best pick.”

Natasha nodded once, understanding.

Xavier, having listened to all of this, offered an alternative.

“Would you like your team to host these operations in Westchester, Captain?”

Steve shook his head. “I would not like to burden you, Professor.”

Xavier smiled slightly. “It’s never a burden. You’re welcome here. Same for Jennifer and Duncan.”

Jennifer grinned. “Oh, Professor. I’d be delighted to know all about the mansion and your institute of higher learning… and its most honorable members.”

Her eyes flickered briefly toward Gambit.

Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Professor, my cousin has a very unprofessional behavior sometimes. You must forgive me.”

Xavier only smiled. “I don’t take offense, Dr. Banner.”

Gambit leaned back, his smirk returning.

“Gambit thinks de company will be merveilleuse.”

Rogue nudged him. “Well, cowboy, ya comin’ too?”

Alamo exhaled, smirking slightly behind his mask.

“Oh, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

Steve nodded. “I think that wraps it up for now. I’ll see you soon—X-Men, Alamo, She-Hulk.”

Cyclops nodded. “Thanks, Avengers. Duncan. Jennifer.”

Jennifer grinned playfully.

“Bye-bye, my lovely pretty boys and girls… aluminum face.”

Alamo tilted his head.

“Well, see y’all soon, Cap, Avengers, X-Men… She-Larry the Cucumber.”

The call ended as Tony and Clint started laughing, at the other side, Rogue, Gambit and even Wolverine held back their laughter with Storm shaking her head in disapproval.

They all knew what to do next.