Outside the fortified entrance to Cerebro, Tyson stood guard against any who might dare approach. The five blondes, almost identical in appearance, maintained a loose perimeter around him. At first, they were silent, yet there was an underlying tension in the air. Their heads tilted in unison, pale blue eyes focusing on the far end of the corridor. The subtlest shift in their stance signaled that they had picked up on something. "An intruder approaches," they muttered as one. The blondes eyes’ flashed with a blue glow as they jointly accessed their psionics. "Difficult to discern," one spoke, another added, "Her mind is... shielded."
Tyson's stance became more aggressive, every muscle in his body ready for action. His eyes scanned the corridor, ready for whatever was about to emerge.
The dimly lit corridor echoed with footsteps as Mystique emerged from around the far corner. Tyson recognized the threat and immediately lunged forward in a blur of movement. Yet, halfway to his intended target, his form halted as if caught by invisible chains. His muscles bulged with strain and his features contorted in frustration, but he couldn't move.
Mystique moved gracefully around Tyson towards the quintet of blondes, their identical faces reflecting caution and intrigue. Their voices began that eerie, almost hypnotic relay of speech. "It's the metamorph," one began.
Mystique retorted sharply, "Get out of my way."
The transformation began at Mystique's feet, the blue scales seemed to melt away. The changes cascaded upwards like a wave of fluid motion. Her lithe, muscular form softened. Her face, once sharp and angular, also softened, her cheekbones descending, her jawline narrowing. Mystique's fiery red hair receded into her scalp, re-emerging as platinum blonde locks that framed her face and fell in perfect, uniform waves down her shoulders. Her eyes shifted from their piercing yellow to a softer blue, mirroring the icy gaze of the blondes. In moments, where there had been one formidable, blue-skinned shapeshifter, now stood another identical young woman. Each detail was replicated with supernatural precision; the cut of their stylish yet austere clothing, the way they held their posture, and even the subtle, shared expressions that crossed their faces.
But the girls weren't easily intimidated. Spreading out in formation, each adopting a fighting stance, another continued, "You might shape-shift.” Another finished her sentence, “But you can't hide from us."
The atmosphere in the corridor became charged as the quintet of blondes advanced on Mystique in perfect synchrony, their movements mirroring one another as if they were all part of a single organism.
As the first blonde lunged towards her, Mystique ducked and swirled around her, aiming to use her momentum against her. But another blonde was right there, cutting off her escape. With every movement Mystique made, it seemed one of the blondes anticipated her. They worked in perfect tandem, blocking her strikes and countering seamlessly. It was like trying to fight a single entity with five bodies.
Mystique, ever adaptable, switched strategies, aiming to isolate them. With a swift roundhouse kick, she managed to send one of the blondes crashing into the others, creating a momentary opening. She lunged forward, fist aimed squarely at the face of the blonde closest to her. But just as her strike was about to land, the blonde's skin shimmered, transforming into an iridescent diamond-like material. Mystique's fist collided with the diamond face, producing a sharp, echoing clang but causing no damage. The force of her punch merely sent the blonde skidding back a foot or so, her diamond eyes betraying no pain.
"You didn't expect that." one of the blondes taunted, while the others recovered and began their coordinated attack once more.
Magneto turned the corner and approached with a smooth, assured gait. "Look what they've done to you," he observed, his voice dripping with pity and perhaps a touch of disgust. He paused, surveying Tyson's predicament, his focus narrowing on the gleam of the metal within him. "I recognize the signature of that alloy. They've done to you what they did to Logan." A slight smile crept onto his face. "It's made you stronger." He leaned in, almost admiringly, "But not against me."
With the slightest flick of his wrist, Magneto sent Tyson crashing into the wall. The adamantium within him became his cage. The sheer force of the magnetic field rendered Tyson immobile, his struggles futile.
The five blondes, moving with a unity that seemed inhuman, were so focused on their target, Mystique, that they failed to take into account the threat approaching from behind them. While Mystique danced and dodged between the blondes, drawing their collective attention, Magneto raised a hand subtly. With a mere flick of his fingers, strips of metal began to peel away from the walls of the corridor. They undulated like snakes, reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead in a serpentine dance of their own. Suddenly, with a swiftness that caught the blondes off guard, the strips of metal shot forward, ensnaring them. They wrapped around wrists, ankles, and torsos, pulling the five girls tight against the walls, and rendering them immobile. Their diamond forms shimmered, but to their surprise and then frustration they were unable to break the bonds.
"Impossible!" one of the blondes cried, struggling against the powerful metallic bindings.
Another, with an eerily calm demeanor, stated, "He was hidden from us."
Magneto looked over the restrained blondes with a hint of satisfaction. "It's always the unseen threats that pose the greatest danger," he remarked coolly.
Mystique, catching her breath, gave Magneto a nod of gratitude.
Magneto approached the heavy metal door that barred their path to Cerebro. The door was built as sturdy as a bank vault. But for Magneto, such barriers were mere trifles. He raised a hand, focusing intently on the complex locking mechanism within the door. From within, the distinct sound of gears turning and locks releasing echoed in the corridor. With a final, resonant *clunk*, the massive door began to swing open with a slow, deliberate grace, revealing the pathway ahead.
As Magneto worked his way through the door, Mystique closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, her blue skin began to ripple and shift. Her form began to change, bones realigning, her height adjusting. In a matter of seconds, she became an impeccable replica of Stryker. The transformation was flawless, down to the stern expression and cold glint in her eyes. ‘Stryker’ approached Jason, the mutant's eyes unfocused, reflecting a world of illusion he continuously painted for others. Mystique, with every detail of Stryker, leaned close, her voice dripping with feigned urgency. "Jason," she whispered, her lips barely moving, "Find all the Humans. Kill all the Humans."
Jason's eyes, previously glazed, snapped to sharp attention. He hesitated for just a heartbeat, then nodded slowly, beginning his psychic manipulation on Xavier. The Professor's face, serene and distant under the helm of Cerebro, subtly twitched, a brief sign of the mental battle ensuing within. As Jason focused on his new directive, Magneto motioned to Mystique, signaling their exit. The two mutants swiftly exited Cerebro's chamber. Reaching the door, Magneto outstretched his arm, his fingers splayed. With a concentrated effort, the door's metal began to twist and meld, securing Cerebro from any possible intrusion. As he worked, he turned and regarded the blondes, but dismissed them.
Magneto firmly pulled Tyson from where he had been pinned to the wall. The young mutant hovered, surrounded by a magnetic field, just behind Magneto. Tyson continued to struggle but was held helpless within the power. With Mystique leading and Tyson floating behind, the trio made their way down the corridor.
~~ Rogue Replacement ~~
Stryker's boots clicked heavily against the cold metal floor of the base, every step echoing his growing desperation. Close behind, Omega Red and Yuriko moved swiftly, like phantoms in the dim lighting. They turned a corner and halted abruptly. There, in the middle of the hallway, stood Wolverine. There was a moment of pregnant silence before a crisp, metallic sound shattered it. Three adamantium claws on each of Wolverine's hands slowly extended, reflecting the cold light in a menacing gleam.
Stryker's eyes darted, looking for an alternative route. "We'll go around," he muttered quickly. Then, as if an afterthought, he turned to his tall companion, "Red, handle him." As he turned back to Yuriko he commented, “These mutants are like weeds. I think it’s time we made our exit.”
Omega Red smirked, the light playing off his pallid skin, making it appear even more ghostly. His Russian accent was thick thick as he said, "You shouldn't be here."
But Wolverine's gaze never wavered from Stryker. With a roar, he lunged forward, the intent clear in his eyes. He was going for the man who had caused him so much pain. But just as he was about to reach Stryker, something shot out from Omega Red's arm. A long, whip-like tentacle slammed into Wolverine's side, sending him skidding across the floor with a grunt.
Omega Red chuckled, "Thought you could ignore me, little man?" He flexed his tentacles, ready for the brawl that was about to ensue.
Omega Red towered over Wolverine, his long, deadly tentacles writhing and moving with a life of their own. His lips curled into a cruel smirk, relishing the moment.
With a fierce growl, Wolverine lunged, slashing swiftly at his opponent. Omega Red's tentacles snapped forward, aiming to ensnare Wolverine, but the smaller mutant dodged with surprising agility. Every time Red thought he had Wolverine, those sharp claws would flash, slicing the tentacles and forcing them to retract. Yet, for all of Wolverine's agility, Omega Red had raw power. A tentacle whipped forward, catching Wolverine off-guard and hurling him into a nearby wall. The impact sent a shockwave through the corridor, debris scattering everywhere. Wolverine grunted, pain and anger evident in his eyes. Undeterred, Wolverine pushed off the wall, using it as a springboard. He came at Omega Red from above, raining down a flurry of slashes. But Omega Red was no pushover. With a swift motion, he caught Wolverine mid-air with his tentacles, constricting him tightly.
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As the tentacles squeezed, Omega Red drew Wolverine closer, their faces inches apart. "Thought you could beat me?" he hissed, a gloating grin stretching across his face.
Wolverine, despite the immense pressure, managed a defiant smirk. "Barely started trying," he spat back. With a sudden surge of energy, Wolverine's claws plunged into the tentacles, forcing Omega Red to release him.
Circling each other warily, their eyes locked in mutual disdain, they prepared to clash again. Wolverine and Omega Red sized each other up. The silence was palpable, punctuated only by the distant echoes of chaos elsewhere in the base. With a snarl, Omega Red lunged first, his tentacles shooting out, aiming straight for Wolverine’s throat. Wolverine ducked, rolling to the side, then sprung up and lunged with his claws bared. But Omega Red was faster this time, his tentacles wrapping around Wolverine’s arms, pinning his deadly claws to his sides.
“I’ve got you, little man.” Omega Red sneered.
But Wolverine had another move up his sleeve. Using his legs, he pushed off the ground, flipping backward and using the momentum to kick Omega Red into the wall. The impact dazed the Russian mutant momentarily, and Wolverine broke free.
"Nice try, bub," Wolverine spat, wiping a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth.
The fight turned even more savage. Omega Red's tentacles, now infused with glowing energy, became even more aggressive, snapping and writhing, trying to drain the life force from Wolverine. But Logan's healing factor kept him on his feet, his resilience never wavering. Omega Red's tentacles grabbed a metal pipe, twisting it into a spear and hurling it at Wolverine. With incredible reflexes, Wolverine sliced through it, but the diversion allowed Omega Red to land a solid punch to his face.
Wolverine stumbled back, "You're going to have to do better than that," he growled, getting back into a fighting stance.
Omega Red chuckled. In a heavy accent, he replied, "Oh, don't worry. I have plenty more in store for you."
He rushed the smaller man, their silhouettes clashing again.
~~ Rogue Replacement ~~
Nightcrawler and Storm made their way to the holding room where the children captured from the Institute were kept. Cages dangled ominously in the air, the young mutant captives looked down on them with eyes wide with terror. Storm’s blue eyes flashed as she scanned the area, trying to find the controls to lower the cages. Nightcrawler was about to simply teleport to the cages when suddenly, footsteps echoed in the chamber. Both mutants turned to find Cyclops walking in, his ruby-quartz visor glowing dimly.
"Scott!" Storm exclaimed, relief evident in her voice. "You're okay!"
But something was amiss. Scott's face was eerily calm, devoid of any emotion. His demeanor did not reflect any hint of recognition.
"Scott?" Storm questioned again, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
Without warning, Cyclops raised a hand to his visor. The subsequent red blast that shot out was sudden and ferocious. Storm, reacting just in time, ducked behind a console.
Nightcrawler, realizing the imminent danger, yelled, "It seems he's not himself!"
"I can see that, Kurt!" she responded, trying to keep her focus on Scott while searching for a way to subdue him without causing harm.
Cyclops prepared to fire another blast, his placid expression never changing.
The atmosphere within the chamber crackled with electricity as Storm’s usually calm demeanor shifted. Her eyes, a brilliant shade of blue moments before, transformed into a stark white. Around her, the winds stirred, starting as a mere whisper and escalating into a tempestuous roar in mere seconds. Her cape billowed and her hair danced wildly in the gusts she summoned.
Suddenly, Cyclops found himself overpowered, a victim to nature's might as a gust of wind slammed him to the ground. But Storm didn't stop there. With a sweep of her hand, the wind took hold of Cyclops, dragging him helplessly across the room's metal floor. With his back against the wall, Scott defiantly struggled against the force pinning him. He lifted his hand, releasing erratic blasts. The concussive beams ricocheted, creating chaos. Metal screeched and lights flickered as the beams hit their mark, turning the chamber into a dangerous maze of destruction.
In a puff of brimstone-scented smoke, Nightcrawler appeared beside Cyclops. He landed a punch to Scott's abdomen, momentarily knocking the wind out of him. Before the powerful gusts could sweep him off, Nightcrawler vanished, reappearing safely away. Again and again, he executed his hit-and-run tactics, appearing beside Scott for a strike and then disappearing. The combination of Storm’s relentless winds and Nightcrawler’s rapid assaults gradually wore Cyclops down. His efforts to fire his optic blasts became less frequent, and his struggles against the wind weakened. With one last punch from Nightcrawler, a swift strike to the temple, Scott's eyes rolled back, and he slumped, unconscious, still pinned against the wall by the force of the wind.
The room fell silent, save for the soft whir of disturbed air as Storm reined in her powers. She knelt beside Scott, her fingertips brushing against his neck to check for a pulse. Without waiting for further instruction, Nightcrawler nodded and turned his attention to the suspended cages. He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, only to reappear within one of the cages. His agile hands moved swiftly, unfastening the restraints and lifting the first child into his arms. With another teleportation, he reappeared on the ground, placing the child safely before repeating the process. Each time he appeared, a comforting whisper of "You're safe now" left his lips, helping calm the frightened children. It wasn't long before the floor of the chamber was filled with a small group of children, their faces streaked with tears but relief evident in their eyes. Nightcrawler moved quickly until every child was free.
Storm cast an elegant shadow over the children. "Stay close," she instructed, her voice firm but kind. "We're going to get out of here."
Nodding, Nightcrawler hoisted Scott onto his shoulder. With the children gathered around Storm they began to move. Nightcrawler, carrying Scott, took the rear, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger.
The dim lighting of the corridor made the distant figures difficult to discern. As Storm detected their approach, she immediately went on the defensive. She stepped forward, her blue eyes scanning the distance, attempting to identify the group.
"Hold on," she whispered to the children, urging them to stay close and still. "Kurt!" she called out more loudly, the name echoing slightly. In an instantaneous puff of violet-hued smoke, Nightcrawler was by her side, Scott still cradled in his arms. The sudden appearance of that distinct teleportation smoke made the group of approaching figures hesitate for a split second.
From among the figures, a familiar burst of colorful fireworks erupted. Jubilee's voice, full of relief, broke through, "Oh thank god it’s you!"
Storm, recognizing the distinct pattern of Jubilee’s light show, relaxed her posture slightly. However, her gaze turned stern when she said, "I thought we told you to stay in the jet."
John replied, "Yeah, like that was going to happen."
As the group closed the distance between them, the features of Jubilee, John, and a few others became clear. Storm's expression softened with relief, but she maintained her authoritative stance. Waving her hand slightly towards Nightcrawler, she signaled him to return to the back with Scott.
"Good," Storm started, directing her words to the newly arrived team, "You can help get the kids to the plane."
Illyana's blue eyes darted from face to face, and a frown settled on her lips. "Where's Tyson?" she inquired, her voice sharp with concern.
Jean stepped closer, her brows knitted together. "And Professor X?" she added.
Storm showed a hint of worry as she responded, "Magneto and Mystique were heading to get Xavier when we last saw them." She paused, glancing at the group, then added hesitantly, "As for Tyson... we aren't certain of his whereabouts."
The weight of those words settled heavily on the group. The tension was palpable. Illyana's face was etched with a stubborn resolve, her voice carrying an edge. "No," she declared.
Storm raised an eyebrow, "No?" she repeated, seeking clarity.
"I'm going to find Tyson," Illyana began. "Do you know how many more of us would've been taken from the mansion if he hadn't been there? He stood against those invaders. Alone. And now he's missing? And to top it all off, Magneto is here. The very same man who already tried to kidnap Tyson. You were there. You know what he did to him!" Her words reverberated through the corridor.
Storm tried to find a middle ground. "Listen, Illyana, once we ensure the children's safety, we'll come back for Tyson and the Professor. We're a team. We don't leave anyone behind."
Illyana's blue eyes blazed "Not good enough," she snapped, "I'm finding my boyfriend now."
John couldn’t resist. "Finally, she admits they're dating!" he said with a smirk.
Jubilee smacked John's arm. "Not the time, John!"
Ignoring the two, Illyana's boots clicked as she strode down a different corridor, every step echoing her resolve to find Tyson.
As Illyana made her determined march down the corridor, John jogged to catch up. "Wait up!" he called, falling in step with her.
Bobby’s expression showed a mix of concern and bewilderment as he raised his voice. "Hey, where are you going?"
John glanced back, flashing a mischievous grin. "Can't let her go alone, right?"
Jubilee's eyes softened, "Be safe, okay?" she told them, her voice a gentle plea.
Jean's face was lined with contemplation. "Should we just... let them go like that?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Jubilee took a deep breath, her gaze drifting off momentarily. "I want to save Tyson too, believe me. But I keep replaying his words in my head. He told me I'm not ready yet. And if I'm being honest, I feel it. I'm not prepared to be the hero, yet. For now, my job is to keep these kids safe. But if you think you're ready, Jean, then hurry up and go with them."
Jean considered Jubilee's words. Her mind flashed back to the footage of Tyson taking on Magneto. Watching him wield her telekinesis with such raw power, at a level she hadn’t achieved, made her consider. She realized, much like Jubilee, she wasn’t there yet. She gave a small nod indicating she was staying.
Bobby's gaze shifted to Storm, his eyebrows knit in a silent plea for guidance. The weight of the situation rested heavily on Storm's shoulders. She exhaled deeply, her voice revealing a touch of weariness. "Technically, they did graduate this year," she admitted, glancing in the direction John and Illyana had departed.
Bobby's face showed surprise, "So, they're making their own choices now?"
Storm nodded slowly. "Yes, they are. I don’t agree, but I can't control them at the moment. Right now, my main focus is to protect these children. Once they're safe, I promise, I'll come back and search for… everyone."