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Chapter Text

At first, Moira refused to believe it. The official reports, the murmurs from her superiors, even Levene’s concerned looks – none of it made sense. It was absurd. Impossible. A man had somehow reached into her mind and stolen months of her life.

Ridiculous.

Then Levene showed her the tapes.

Moira sat frozen, watching herself on the grainy black-and-white security footage. In the first tape, she stood in the hallway outside a classified briefing room, looking around with sharp, assessing eyes talking to no one. But the way she nodded, how she furrowed her brow in concentration, it was as if she were responding to a conversation only she could hear.

She watched as Levene – on screen – paused at a water fountain, frozen mid-motion. Watched herself frown and turn as if sensing something unseen.

“Afterwards, you told me he contacted you,” Levene murmured beside her, voice tight. “That you were communicating telepathically.”

She couldn’t look at him.

The next tape showed her in a parking lot, loading a group of people into a car.

“I lost you after that,” Levene continued. “You told me you had something important to do. You said to keep McCone off your back.”

Moira pressed cold fingers to her lips. “And you didn’t see me again until last week?”

“No, I saw you once more. We went on a mission to Russia.”

Moira blinked, her stomach flipping. “I went to Russia?”

Levene hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. You recruited someone. A guy named Erik Lehnsherr. He could…” He exhaled. “He could move metal. With his mind. Like some kind of human magnet.”

Moira swallowed hard.

“The Professor – Xavier – made our team invisible,” Levene added. “Some kind of telepathic illusion. We walked straight through checkpoints.”

Her breath came short. “And I told you all of this?”

“You gave me the basics,” he admitted. “You were hunting a guy targeting humans. Then you disappeared again. I didn’t hear anything else until Cuba.”

Moira clenched her jaw, bile rising in her throat. Cuba. The only piece of the puzzle she had never been allowed to forget.

McCone had relayed what she’d done there – standing between two warring nations, defending the mutants, only to be nearly killed by one. When they debriefed her, she’d still had the bruises around her throat from where Lehnsherr had tried to strangle her.

She tried to focus, to press for more details. But the truth was already setting in.

Her memories hadn’t just faded. They’d been stolen.

Paranoia set in fast. She tried to push it down, but it seeped into her like ink, staining everything. She questioned her thoughts, her choices. Was anything she felt even real? Or had Xavier reached into her mind and decided for her?

She spent months clawing for answers. Pressing Levene for details, reading every classified report she could get her hands on, scouring records for some trigger that might jolt her memories loose. Nothing worked. She could only recall flashes – bursts of light, shadows in the shape of faces and the ghost of a kiss that made her skin crawl.

Her bosses, meanwhile, had drawn their own conclusions.

“She’s not right,” she overheard one day in the break room. “She’s a liability.”

“She went soft on them,” another voice sneered. “Freak lover.”

The whispers followed her. At first, they had dismissed her as a woman who had gotten too emotionally involved in her work. Then, as the months passed with no progress, they took a different approach.

“She’s damaged.”

Levene fought for her, but it didn’t matter. The CIA was a machine, and Moira had become a faulty part. She wasn’t an agent anymore. She was a warning.

And they didn’t let her forget it.

“I’m pulling you and Levene off this case,” McCone said one morning, tossing aside the latest report she had delivered. “We think it’s in your best interest to take a leave of absence.”

Moira stiffened. “I’m fine.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She gritted her teeth. “I never said I was ashamed.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands. “Some time off might help you with your memory loss.”

Moira inhaled sharply, her pulse pounding in her ears. He was pretending this was for her benefit. That it wasn’t a blatant push out the door.

She could keep fighting. She could keep forcing herself to walk these halls, knowing they would never let her back into the field. Or…

“I quit.”

McCone blinked, his smirk slipping. “Excuse me?”

Moira pulled her gun from its holster, unhooked her badge, and placed both on his desk. “You heard me.”

“Moira, there’s no need to be rash. You take some time, we’ll ease you back…”

She shook her head. She had given everything to this agency. And in return, they had let a man rewrite her mind and called her weak for it.

No more.

She turned on her heel and strode out before McCone could finish his protests. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the parking garage, throwing her bag into the backseat with a sharp breath.

Then a voice stopped her cold.

“Moira MacTaggert.”

She tensed, hand twitching toward her purse where her backup weapon lay. Slowly, she turned.

A young man stepped out from the shadows of a stone pillar, hands casually tucked into his pockets. He was tall, his expression unreadable. Four others stood behind him, silent, waiting.

Moira squared her shoulders. “Who’s asking?”

The man tilted his head slightly. “Name’s Nick Fury.”

His voice was smooth, assured. Like he already knew she wasn’t going to walk away from this conversation.

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah?”

His lips quirked in a half-smile. “Tell me – what do you know about S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Chapter Text

Moira sat stiffly in the worn leather chair outside Nick Fury’s office, fingers tightly interwoven in her lap, willing herself to stay composed. The walk back into Langley – back into the building she’d stormed out of only days before – had been nerve-racking enough. Now, sitting here, waiting for an interview that should have started ten minutes ago, she could feel the tension twisting in her gut.

Nick Fury. The man who had approached her in the parking lot, the one she’d initially assumed was just another spook looking to put her back in her place. Now she knew better. He was something else entirely – working for an organisation no one seemed to have heard of, operating out of a part of the building she never knew existed. And wherever he went, he was followed by people who carried themselves with the kind of presence that made seasoned agents wary.

Today was no exception. Fury approached, his usual entourage in tow, two of whom looked like they were preparing to march into battle rather than walk the halls of a government building.

“MacTaggert.” His voice was even, unreadable. His people peeled away the moment he said her name, like shadows dissolving into the walls. “With me.”

Moira rose without hesitation, following him inside. The office was sparse, all function, no embellishment. He shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair, and turned toward the window, gaze locked on something outside. She watched him closely, unsure if he was stalling or simply gathering his thoughts.

Then, finally, he turned to her.

“Why did you resign from the agency?” The question was blunt, but she could tell by his tone that he already knew the answer.

Moira folded her hands in her lap. “I think 'resign' is a very polite way to put it.”

Fury’s lip twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close.

“I didn’t feel I could make any more progress within the organisation, sir.” She continued.

“You don’t work here anymore, MacTaggert. You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’” He leaned against the windowsill. “And I agree with you. The CIA is meant to handle external threats, but if recent events have proven anything, it’s that they are entirely unequipped to deal with what’s coming. Let’s call them… unexplainable events, shall we?”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to comment on that.”

“On the contrary. Right now, you are one of the few people who can.” Fury’s gaze didn’t waver. “Given your recent history, your interactions with Xavier and everything that happened in Cuba, I’m very interested to hear your assessment of the situation – how do you think the CIA handled it?”

Moira studied him, searching for any tell in his expression, but Fury was impossible to read.

“You know what happened to me,” she said slowly.

“I dare say I know more than you do.”

A flash of irritation flared in her chest. “That’s not exactly an accomplishment.”

Fury ignored the dig. “You said you didn’t understand why you’re here. I told you before, I work for an organisation called S.H.I.E.L.D. What I didn’t tell you is that we are very interested in your skill set.”

Moira let out a sharp breath. “No one I’ve spoken to has even heard of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“That’s because your contacts don’t have the clearance.” He finally pushed off the windowsill, moving to sit at his desk. “S.H.I.E.L.D. operates globally, answering directly to the United Nations. The name stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“Bit of a mouthful.”

“Hence the acronym.”

Moira almost smiled.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded in the wake of the Second World War,” Fury continued, watching her carefully. “Born out of a program known as the Super Soldier Initiative.”

Moira frowned. “You mean like Captain America?”

“The very one.”

She blinked. “Captain America was a propaganda piece. A comic book character. My brother had him on his lunchbox.”

Fury tilted his head. “You saw what happened in Cuba. You saw mutants tear apart fleets of warships with their bare hands, but you still think the idea of one enhanced soldier is beyond the realm of possibility?”

Moira swallowed, gripping the arms of her chair a little tighter.

Fury let the silence hang between them for a moment before continuing. “S.H.I.E.L.D. exists to deal with the unexplainable – mutants, enhanced individuals, threats beyond human comprehension. Things the CIA, quite frankly, is incapable of handling.”

“Mutants like Xavier,” she said carefully.

“Exactly.”

Moira exhaled slowly. “If you think the CIA is so incapable, why do you want me? I was part of the taskforce. And from what I’ve been told, we nearly started World War Three.”

Fury didn’t hesitate. “Because regardless of how it ended, your work impressed us. You kept your head, even in the face of the impossible. You didn’t panic. You didn’t assume everything unknown was a threat. You gained the trust of individuals who had spent their lives keeping their abilities hidden.”

Moira stiffened. “I don’t even remember doing any of that.”

“Because Xavier took those memories from you.”

She clenched her jaw.

Fury leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “Let me ask you something. You saw mutants use their abilities for the first time. What was your instinct? Did you react with fear? Did you reach for your gun? Call for backup? Or did you go to the best expert you could find and try to understand what you were dealing with?”

Moira said nothing.

“You’re exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D. needs,” he said simply.

“As an agent?”

Fury nodded.

She hesitated. She needed a job, but still… “If you’ll forgive me for saying so, sir, I think I’ve had enough of working for black hat organisations to last me a lifetime.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the CIA, MacTaggert. Trust me on that.”

“Why should I?”

Fury glanced at his watch, then stood, grabbing his coat. “There are some people I want you to meet.”

Moira stayed seated, her voice firm. “Why should I trust you?”

He met her gaze head-on. “Because I can help you.”

Something in her chest tightened. “Help me how?”

Fury didn’t miss a beat. “Help you get your memories back.”

The room suddenly felt smaller.

“You can do that?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“We have resources the CIA doesn’t.” He motioned toward the door. “So, MacTaggert. Do we have a deal?”

Moira swallowed.

For months, she had been wandering through a fog of stolen memories, questioning every decision she’d ever made, every instinct she trusted. She’d spent sleepless nights trying to reconstruct a past that had been ripped away from her, wondering if she would ever truly feel like herself again.

This was her chance.

She pushed to her feet, smoothing out her jacket. “Let’s go.”

Glancing back at Fury as he closed the door behind her, Moira barely had time to take in her surroundings before she was ushered down the corridor, her footsteps muted against the polished floors. He hadn’t answered her question – not really – but she knew she wasn’t getting anything more out of him. At least, not yet.

She focused instead on her own thoughts, replaying his words over and over. She had spent months trying to fit the pieces together, trying to untangle the parts of her mind that felt like they didn’t quite belong to her anymore. And now, here was Fury, promising a solution. A way to know, once and for all, what had been taken from her.

The corridor ended at a heavy wooden door, which Carter pushed open without hesitation. Moira followed her inside, immediately taking in the dim, windowless space. It was a stark contrast to the sterile halls outside – dark panelling, low lighting and a long conference table at the centre, where several people were speaking in hushed tones.

A woman – British, judging by her accent – was the first to acknowledge her entrance. She gave Moira a measured look, one of quiet assessment, before turning to Fury.

Fury wasted no time. “Moira MacTaggert, formerly of the CIA,” he said, motioning toward the others seated around the table. “This is Agent Carter, Mr. Stark, Colonel Phillips, Dr. Samberly, and Dr. Wilkes.”

She barely had time to process their names when Fury turned to Carter. “Where’s Stoner?”

“Urgent business,” Carter replied, clearly unconcerned.

Moira’s gaze flickered to Stark, the only one at the table who seemed even remotely relaxed. Stark? The name alone sent a jolt of recognition through her.

“Mr Stark?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “As in Stark Industries?”

The man grinned, offering a casual handshake before dropping into the seat opposite her. “The one and only.”

Of course. Howard Stark. His reputation preceded him – one of the most famous inventors in the country, known as much for his brilliance as for his flair for theatrics.

What kind of organisation was this?

She took in the rest of the room: a decorated WWII colonel, a renowned industrialist, two scientists, a female agent – something Moira found particularly intriguing after all her struggles in the CIA – and Fury himself, one of the youngest people present and yet, from what she’d seen, one who commanded nothing but respect.

“Agent Carter, Colonel Phillips, and Mr. Stark founded S.H.I.E.L.D. in the late ’40s,” Fury explained, motioning to the trio. “S.H.I.E.L.D. absorbed their previous organisation.”

“The Strategic Scientific Reserve,” Carter clarified. “We, along with Dr. Samberly and Dr. Wilkes, worked in that organisation both during and after the war. It was highly classified,” she added, her eyes locking onto Moira’s, “as is S.H.I.E.L.D. I expect you understand that anything discussed in this room stays in this room.”

“Of course.”

Carter flipped open the personnel file in front of her. Moira caught a glimpse of her own name printed across the top.

“Agent Fury has recommended you as a field operative,” Carter continued. “A position you more than qualify for. I don’t know how much he’s told you about S.H.I.E.L.D., but you should know that working for this organisation will demand a great deal of personal sacrifice. This is not an easy job and the expectations will be high.”

Moira didn’t react. She was used to sacrifice.

Dr. Samberly hesitated before speaking. “Miss MacTaggert… we’ve reviewed files from the Mutants Division.”

Moira’s spine stiffened. “You have those files?”

Samberly’s hand twitched toward the papers in front of him, as if reflexively protecting them.

The CIA had stonewalled her at every turn when she tried to access her own case files. The division’s head, the mysterious figure who had apparently overseen their work, remained unknown to her. McCone had answers, she was sure of that, but she had never been able to get them. And now, across the table, was a stack of files that might tell her what she had been missing.

“They’ll be shared with you, should you agree to work with us,” Fury said. “You’ll need clearance first.”

Bureaucratic bullshit. Moira kept her expression neutral despite the frustration curling in her gut. I need clearance to read about my own life?

Samberly cleared his throat and pressed on. “The files detail your involvement in the division and the work you contributed to its successes. And needless to say, we are… intrigued by Mr. Xavier’s abilities. And those of the other mutants documented here.”

Wilkes leaned forward. “There are reports of a shapeshifter, an individual capable of manipulating electromagnetic fields, and teleportation. While we have seen… anomalies before, their abilities were often unsustainable. Barring a few cases. To see individuals who have had these abilities from birth, who exhibit control over them, is unlike anything we’ve documented at scale.”

“And from what we’ve learned, they’re not just individuals anymore,” Phillips added. “They’re forming factions. Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr appear to have opposing views on how mutants should engage with humans.” He consulted a file. “Lehnsherr believes in mutant superiority. Xavier advocates for coexistence.”

Moira folded her arms. “So, you want me to reach out to them.”

“And, of course,” Phillips continued, “we need to keep an eye on Lehnsherr. He could develop into a greater threat.”

Moira fought the instinct to touch the long faded bruise at her throat. Lehnsherr had nearly killed her once. She hadn’t forgotten.

“So let me get this straight,” she said, carefully controlled. “You help me get my memories back, and in return, I give you everything I know about Xavier and Lehnsherr?”

“We want more than intelligence,” Carter corrected. “You have a unique perspective. You weren’t just an observer. You were there when Xavier and Lehnsherr first assembled their team. You worked alongside them. If we want to establish a relationship with Xavier, you are our best point of contact.”

Moira thought carefully, her gaze drifting over the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“And what exactly does S.H.I.E.L.D. want from the mutants?” she asked, her voice edged with something she didn’t quite recognise. Protectiveness?

Phillips raised an eyebrow, but it was Carter who answered.

“Our priority is protection,” she said evenly. “Not just for civilians, but for enhanced individuals as well. We don’t want to study them. We don’t want to experiment on them. We want to ensure their safety – if they need it.”

Moira met her gaze, searching for any sign of deception.

“We don’t know why Xavier erased your memories,” Carter continued. “But if he did it to protect his people, it tells us something about the threats they’re facing. S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide support, should they need it. And if they don’t, we will leave them in peace.”

Moira exhaled. “And how do you plan to get my memories back?”

This time, Stark leaned forward, his grin fading. “Scans, blood samples, neural testing. We need to determine whether there’s physical damage or if it’s a mental block. If it’s the latter, we may be able to undo it.”

Moira hesitated. “And if it’s permanent?”

Stark’s expression turned serious. “Nothing is gone forever.”

That was all she needed to hear.

Carter pushed a pen toward her. “You can walk away after we recover your memories. We won’t hold you to working with us. But if you stay, you’ll be part of something bigger than yourself.”

Moira didn’t respond immediately.

Then, slowly, she pulled the contract toward her and signed.

Chapter Text

Mr Stark – Howard, as he kept insisting – Dr Wilkes and Dr Samberly had taken more scans than Moira could count, drawn enough blood to make her wonder how she was still upright, and asked so many questions she was half convinced they were just doing it for fun at this point. When they were finally done with her, she had been unceremoniously shepherded to one of the on-site personnel bunk rooms with strict instructions to rest. It was too late – or, more accurately, too early – to be making the drive home.

“It’s too late to travel,” Wilkes had told her, though too early was likely the more accurate description.

“And considering Samberly just shined a high-powered light into your eyes for five straight minutes, you might want to avoid driving,” Howard had added, entirely unhelpful.

Bright spots still danced behind her eyelids when she blinked.

The privacy of the room was welcome. She’d spent enough time around agents and scientists these past few days that the solitude was almost a luxury. Moira dropped onto the bottom bunk, leaning back against the cool stone wall. For a brief, tantalising second, the sensation sparked a flicker of familiarity – something old, something important – but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, offering no further insight into what it meant.

She let out a slow breath and focused on what was ahead. Tomorrow marked the official start of her training as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Another induction. Another round of proving herself. If her time at the CIA had been any indication, it was likely going to be just as infuriating as it was rewarding. With luck, she wouldn’t be the only woman in her class this time.

She stripped out of her suit and carefully laid it aside – Wilkes had promised to find her something more practical for tomorrow, but she wasn’t counting on it. He and the others had been so consumed with testing her that basic concerns like clothing seemed to have entirely slipped their minds. As she settled beneath the thin covers, she recalled Agent Carter mentioning the induction was originally meant for some new entry-level scientists.

“It’s nothing too complicated,” Carter had said. “Just a rundown of the organisation, an explanation of our divisions, and an overview of what to expect during training.”

“How long will my training last?”

“Given your CIA background, there are areas you’ll already be proficient in. But expect to be in it for a while. It’ll be worked around whatever the doctors come up with for your recovery. And if they had their way, you’d be in the lab full-time.”

Lucky me, Moira had thought dryly. She had endured her fair share of physical examinations before, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed them.

“What does S.H.I.E.L.D. training entail?” she had asked.

“For a field agent? Strength training, language courses – though Fury mentioned you’re fluent in Russian, so you might be spared that – firearms proficiency, martial arts or boxing. It depends on your superior officer’s recommendations.”

Moira had considered that for a moment. “A field agent’s life sounds like a busy one.”

Carter had paused at the entrance to the labs. “If you’re opposed to combat, there are other paths. Reconnaissance. Strategy. You’d still be an asset.”

Moira had shaken her head. “No, I want the training.”

She wanted to learn. Wanted to be stronger, sharper. She’d been held back at the CIA, not allowed to take their boxing electives because there had been no other female agents to spar against.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had no expectations of her that weren’t based on her own abilities. No men in the locker rooms sneering at her presence. No supervisors subtly suggesting she’d be better suited for a desk job.

But there was something else weighing on her, a feeling that wouldn’t settle. A tension winding tight beneath her ribs.

You could still walk away.

The thought came unbidden.

She had walked into the Mutants Division believing she was part of something bigger, something good. She had trusted them. And they had erased her mind.

She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

She had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. for answers. But what happened when she had them? What happened if the agency that claimed to be different turned out to be just another lie?

She exhaled sharply.

They told her she could walk away. But, if she was being honest with herself, she knew she wouldn’t.

A knock at the door jolted her awake before she could even recognise she was asleep.

The warm glow of morning had replaced the dim yellow light from the streetlamps. Agent Carter stood at the door, looking entirely too well-rested for this hour.

“Moira?”

Moira blinked blearily at her.

“I tried knocking earlier, but you sleep like the dead,” Carter said, though not unkindly. “You’re due in the conference hall in half an hour.”

Moira scrubbed a hand over her face and sat up. “Right. Thanks.”

“There are toiletries in the drawers if you need them.” Carter hesitated before adding, “Howard’s having more equipment flown in from Stark Industries. He wants you back in the lab after your induction.”

Moira bit back a groan.

Of course he did.

Carter left her to get ready. True to her prediction, Wilkes had completely forgotten to bring fresh clothes, so Moira resigned herself to wearing her suit again. At least she still looked put together.

When she opened the door, Carter pressed a bagel into her hand.

“Howard had them flown in from New York,” she explained dryly.

Moira nearly choked on a laugh. “Of course he did.”

Carter ignored her amusement. “Your induction should cover the history of S.H.I.E.L.D. and an overview of operations. I won’t be conducting it, but…”

“But you’ll be testing me on it later,” Moira finished knowingly.

Carter’s lips quirked. “Good to see you’re catching on.”

She escorted Moira through the labyrinthine halls of the headquarters, leading her to a large briefing room where a handful of new recruits were already gathering. All scientists, as promised. Moira took her seat near the back, listening as the lecture began.

The history of the S.S.R. The Super Soldier Initiative. The fight against Hydra. The foundation of S.H.I.E.L.D. under Stark, Carter, and Phillips.

And Captain America – who, despite what she’d assumed, was real.

Moira struggled to process the sheer scale of the operation. This wasn’t some shadowy subdivision of the CIA. It was something more. Larger. More powerful.

By the time the session ended, she was beginning to think her reaction yesterday had been embarrassingly underwhelming.

She lingered as the scientists filed out, exchanging glances with the other female recruits. If nothing else, S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t the CIA. Maybe, just maybe, she had made the right choice.

Carter was waiting for her outside, arms crossed.

“Now then,” she began, barely concealing her amusement. “What does S.H.I.E.L.D. stand for?”

Moira arched an eyebrow. “Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage, Law-Enforcement Division.”

Carter nodded. “Who created the Super Soldier Serum?”

“Dr. Erskine.”

“First person to take it?”

“Johann Schmidt, also known as Red Skull.”

Carter’s smile was satisfied. “Good. Be warned, I’ll keep testing you.”

Moira smirked. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.”

They walked together in silence until Carter spoke again.

“Meet me at the training facilities at 0800 tomorrow. You’ll need time to commute from home.”

Moira frowned. “Wait… you’re training me?”

Carter gave her a knowing smile.

“As of right now,” she said, “I’m your superior officer.”

Moira held back a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Not ma’am.” Carter corrected.

“Of course, Agent Carter.”

“Sorry,” Jason Wilkes said, wincing as he pulled the needle away. He quickly pressed a cotton ball to the fresh mark on her arm, just another addition to the fading injection sites dotted across her skin.

“You really don’t have to apologise every time,” Moira assured him, her voice only mildly strained.

“I know. But I also know how unpleasant it is to be tested on in one of these labs.”

Moira quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought I was the only woman you’d conducted tests on to restore memories stolen by an all-powerful mutant. Suddenly, our relationship feels so cheap.”

Jason grinned as he labelled the vial. “Come on, Moira. You know what we have is special.”

“It has to be,” she shot back. “Only a masochist would keep coming back for more of this.”

“Ouch!” Jason gasped, clutching his chest in mock offence. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Moira slid off the stool. “I’ve had worse days.”

But the frustration was beginning to weigh on her. Every time she stepped into this lab, she let herself believe – just for a moment – that this time would be different. That this time, she would remember something useful. That they would have answers. Instead, she was subjected to more tests and more theories, with little progress to show for it.

“I thought we’d be further along by now.”

 “You knew this wouldn’t be easy. Mutants are new territory. We barely understood them before your case. But with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s resources? Your best shot is here. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he dropped his voice conspiratorially, “but Howard Stark is kind of a big deal. Once he sets his mind to something, it’s only a matter of time.”

Despite herself, Moira smiled.

“We will figure this out,” Jason promised.

“I keep trying to remember, but I never get more than flashes,” she admitted. “And the memories I do have... they came back early on. Lately, it’s like I’m losing ground.”

Jason leaned against the counter, studying her carefully. “You’re starting to doubt yourself.”

Moira rubbed her arms absently, trying to ground herself, but the frustration in her chest remained. “I just,” She exhaled sharply. “I just don’t know what’s mine anymore.”

Jason set down his pen, giving her his full attention. “What do you mean?”

She let out a short laugh, but there was no humour in it. “I mean exactly that. I don’t know what’s real. What’s me? I can’t remember things I should, but I have emotions tied to memories I don’t even know exist.” She shook her head, frowning. “It’s like walking through a house you’ve lived in your whole life, but suddenly all the doors are locked. You know what’s behind them – you should know – but you can’t get inside, can’t even peek through the keyhole.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “And you’re worried that if we open one, what you find might not belong to you at all.”

Moira looked away. “I can’t even be sure I’d know the difference.”

“Doctor Xavier isn’t here, Moira,” Jason reminded her gently. “If we get your memories back, they will be yours. Not something implanted, not something that’s been tampered with. And if we don’t get them back, that’s not something to put on yourself. Your memory loss was never your fault, it’s something that was done to you. Don’t forget that.”

“I know,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction. “It’s just hard to reconcile myself with. I can’t understand why he did this because I don’t know anything about him.”

“You wonder if he did more than take your memories?”

Her shoulders slumped, exhaustion catching up with her. “Sometimes. I don’t think he would hurt me. The few feelings I remember from that time, I seemed to be happy. And Levene said all the mutants he met, except Erik, were accepting of me. But lately, I find myself feeling… protective of them.” She hesitated. “It’s irrational, isn’t it? I don’t even remember them.”

Jason didn’t answer right away, letting her sit in her own question before asking, “Do you think that feeling is yours? Or something he left behind?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, voice tight with frustration. “I feel like I’m a traitor when I talk about them with anyone else. I feel defensive, sometimes even resentful, like I shouldn’t be here at all, working for S.H.I.E.L.D. I don’t know if that’s me, if my missing memories are still able to influence my emotions, or if it’s something Xavier put in place to stop me from getting treatment. To stop me from working with anyone who could investigate them.”

Jason pulled her chart toward him. “How do these feelings manifest themselves? Are they triggered by certain words, actions, places? Do they happen often?”

“All the memories I have are odd flashes.”

They already knew about those. She had shared the rare fragments she had retained from her time with the mutants – begrudgingly including the kiss. While she had expected the same kind of criticism she had received at the CIA, where her superiors had used it to justify her demotion, the scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D. had instead analysed it as potential evidence that Xavier had used physical contact to alter her memories.

“Sometimes it’s a conversation, other times a place. When I stayed in the barracks, I had this moment where I felt like I’d been in that situation before. At first, I thought it reminded me of my agency training, but the more I thought about it, the harder it was to recall an actual, associated memory.”

“So you suspect the familiarity is tied to a blocked memory?”

“Exactly.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “When I first met with Fury and the others, and we discussed S.H.I.E.L.D, I had this feeling of – I don’t know how to describe it exactly. Apprehension, maybe? Then, when Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter spoke about reaching out to the mutants, I started to feel a strong sense of… aversion? Maybe that’s not the right word.”

“Well, given your last interaction with them, that’s more than understandable,” Jason said, still jotting down notes.

“No,” Moira said with certainty. “I wasn’t worried about seeing the mutants. Well, I was. I am. But the feeling I had, it was more than that. It was like I was opposed to seeing them as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Like I knew they wouldn’t want to meet with us.” She hesitated. “Like I didn’t want them to meet with us.”

Jason lifted his gaze from his notes. “And you think that feeling, this instinct, is something Xavier implanted?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. It makes sense, doesn’t it? They obviously value their privacy. The most likely reason for Xavier to erase my memories was to prevent the CIA from learning too much about mutants or discovering where they were.”

Jason nodded, considering. “It’s plausible. If he wanted to ensure that no intelligence agency could track them, altering your memory would be an effective way to do it.”

“I know. But,” she exhaled sharply, voice steadier now, “I’m certain the feeling was mine. I wanted to protect them.”

Jason studied her, then smiled faintly. “Maybe you have more faith in yourself than you think.”

Moira sat quietly while he continued shuffling through her file, digesting what she had just admitted. Reflecting on that first meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D’s directors, she was confident those emotions had been hers. It wasn’t just Xavier she felt protective of – there were others. People she felt responsible for. That certainty, however small, settled something in her.

“This emotional connection is interesting,” Jason mused. “It suggests there is no permanent erasure of your memories. More likely, it’s a block stopping you from accessing them.”

“Which means it can be removed?” Moira asked, hope flickering in her voice.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Peggy stepped inside.

“Dr. Wilkes. Any progress today?” she asked, her gaze shifting between them.

Jason straightened. “I think so. In fact,” he said, cautiously optimistic, “after I consult with Howard and Aloysius, we may even be able to start some experimental treatment soon.”

Peggy smiled, then turned to Moira. “Good news indeed.”

Moira, however, only had eyes for Jason. “You really think so? When could we start?”

“Maybe a few days from now? We’ll need to set up some equipment, run a few preliminary tests. And then, of course, we have to convince your S.O. to give you some time off from training.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Peggy said briskly. “We’ll just double your workouts beforehand to compensate.”

Moira barely held back a groan. While she found boxing and hand-to-hand combat an interesting challenge, relative strength training was the stuff of nightmares. If she never had to do another pull-up again, she would die happy.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much,” Jason cautioned. “As I said, it’s experimental. Purely based on a hypothesis.”

Despite his words, Moira couldn’t stop the cautious optimism settling in her chest. Even if it didn’t work, at least it was something. Something more than just endless tests and debates about what might be wrong with her.

“Are you finished now?” Peggy asked. “I had hoped to steal Miss MacTaggert before she’s handed over to Howard.”

Jason gave a knowing smile. “Just don’t work her too hard.”

As Moira followed Peggy out of the lab, she couldn’t help but feel lighter than she had in weeks.

For the first time in a long time, she finally had something to hold onto.

Aloysius wandered in just as Moira was stepping away, but she ignored his usual grumbling, barely catching whatever complaint he had on his lips. Instead, she quickened her pace, hurrying to catch up with Peggy, who was already striding ahead with her usual purpose. It wasn’t until they merged into the steady flow of S.H.I.E.L.D personnel breaking for lunch that Moira realized they weren’t heading toward the training facilities.

“Aren’t we going to train?” she asked, glancing at Peggy in confusion. They had already passed their usual building and were still moving toward the front of the compound.

“I thought we would do something different this afternoon,” Peggy replied, unlocking her car and gesturing for Moira to get in.

That, in itself, was unusual. Peggy didn’t deviate from the schedule lightly.

Moira settled into the passenger seat, curiosity prickling at the edges of her mind. “Can I ask what we’re about to do?”

Peggy started the engine and pulled onto the access road. “What does S.H.I.E.L.D. stand for?”

The question came so abruptly that Moira barely had time to process it. By now, the answer was automatic, drilled into her through Peggy’s insistence. “Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage, Law-Enforcement Division.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

Moira huffed a quiet laugh. “That someone really wanted our name to spell out shield.”

She regretted the words instantly. That was exhaustion talking, blurting out thoughts without filtering them first. She braced herself for a reprimand.

Instead, Peggy let out a laugh, full and unguarded.

Moira blinked in surprise.

“Actually, we did,” Peggy admitted, amusement still in her voice. “The first exceptional we worked with carried one.”

“Captain America?”

“Steve Rogers,” Peggy corrected, glancing at Moira. “Who was part of…”

“The Super Soldier Initiative.”

Peggy nodded approvingly. “He is something of a legend within the ranks.”

“So are you,” Moira pointed out.

She hadn’t expected it, not when she first joined, but in the few interactions she’d had with S.H.I.E.L.D staff outside of the science labs, she had quickly learned how deeply respected Peggy was. More than respected: revered. Everyone knew her name. Everyone spoke of her with a level of admiration that was almost unnerving.

Stark, of course, was a personality. That much she had anticipated. But Carter and Phillips? They weren’t just respected leaders; they were the foundation of the entire operation. Moira had seen it in the way agents straightened when Peggy entered a room, the way junior recruits scrambled to make a good impression.

And Moira was working directly under her.

Peggy didn’t respond immediately, instead keeping her focus on the road, but there was something softer in her posture, as if the words hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“S.H.I.E.L.D acts as a barrier between different forces in the world,” Peggy said at last. “Not just between humans and exceptionals, but between the good and the bad, and all the grey in between. We serve to protect.”

“I know,” Moira said automatically.

The silence that followed made it clear Peggy wasn’t convinced by her answer.

“I asked Jason to speak with you during today’s session,” Peggy said finally. “I felt you would respond better to him.”

Moira frowned. “Why?”

“Because Jason has been in a position similar to yours before.” Peggy’s voice was even, matter-of-fact. “His being was altered by a process he did not initiate, and he was left struggling to right himself again. I knew he could empathize with you in a way that I perhaps couldn’t.”

Moira sat with that for a moment. It was true – Jason understood. He didn’t pity her, didn’t act like she was broken or weak for feeling unsettled by what had been done to her. He treated it for what it was: a violation. And he treated her for what she was: someone trying to reclaim control of her own mind.

“Where are we going?” she asked, curiosity creeping in.

Peggy smiled. “To lunch.”

Chapter Text

Left, right double jab, left, right, left double jab.

“Moira,” Peggy said evenly. “You’re tensing your shoulders again.”

She felt a firm but gentle tug as Peggy pressed her hands down onto her shoulders.

“There.”

Moira threw another punch at the bag. This time, it felt better – stronger. “Thanks.”

Peggy moved around to the other side, her sharp gaze sweeping over Moira’s stance. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Peggy’s only response was to correct her foot placement, making sure her form was solid before stepping back again.

“You’re tensing,” she repeated after a particularly vicious right hook.

Moira exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the stiffness.

“You still look tense.”

Gritting her teeth, Moira forced herself to loosen up again, but Peggy wasn’t fooled.

“Not your form.”

Moira tried to ignore the knowing look Peggy was giving her. “I’m focused.”

Walking around the bag, Peggy stepped directly into her line of sight. “No. You’re angry.”

Moira let out a sharp breath, launching at the bag again. “Are you telling me anger and punching don’t mix?”

“Anger will only get you so far,” Peggy said, catching her fist before she could throw another strike. “Strength comes from clarity of mind.”

Moira’s jaw tightened. That sounded like exactly the kind of philosophical nonsense Charles would have said.

Her stomach twisted at the thought, a bitter knot forming in her chest. She tried to shake it off, but Peggy was already watching her too closely.

“Talk to me,” Peggy said firmly, leaving no room for avoidance.

Moira wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her taped hand, stalling for time. But Peggy waited. She always waited.

“When I get fragments of memories back,” Moira started hesitantly, “I don’t just remember what happened: I feel it. I don’t get full visual memories, but I get emotions.” She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “When I remembered Charles – Xavier’s – face last week,” she corrected herself quickly, not wanting to sound too familiar, “I felt how much I cared about him. That brief moment I remember, I felt… special. Cared for.”

Peggy said nothing, simply allowing her the space to continue.

“And when we listened to Kennedy’s speech,” Moira went on, “and I realised how much danger the mutants were in, I wanted to protect them.”

She fell silent, shame burning through her like a fever. At the CIA, admitting something like that – expressing personal attachment – would have been torn apart as a weakness.

“Especially him,” Peggy prompted, when Moira didn’t continue. “You wanted to protect him.”

“And the others,” Moira said quickly, the defence coming too fast to be convincing.

“It’s all right, Moira. I’m not going to judge you.” Peggy’s voice was calm, measured. “We’ve all felt that way about someone before.”

Moira let out a humourless laugh. “I’m guessing that person didn’t then betray you and ruin your career.” Before Peggy could respond, she pushed on. “What does it say about me? About my judgement?”

“You need to trust…”

“…myself. I know. Jason said the same thing.”

“Then maybe you should listen,” Peggy said, her tone sharpening. “He is a doctor, after all.”

Moira exhaled heavily, frustration curling in her gut. “I just thought… I thought by now, with the treatment, I’d remember more. That I’d have found some memory to justify everything.”

“To justify your feelings?”

Moira hesitated before answering. “To justify his decision to take them.”

Peggy nodded, showing no sign of judgment. “This isn’t an exact science. They’re working off theories, not certainties. It could take time.”

“I know,” Moira admitted. “And I am grateful. It’s just hard not to get impatient. I feel so close.”

Peggy smiled slightly. “A good sign. And luckily for you, if you do get frustrated, you have the perfect outlet.”

“I thought you said anger and punching don’t mix?” Moira arched a brow, resuming her stance.

“I said it would only get you so far. In the field, it could get you killed.”

“Strength comes from clarity of mind,” Moira muttered, repeating the lesson.

“Exactly. Now, ten more minutes, then go and get washed up before you’re due back at the lab.”

Moira nodded, refocusing on her stance as she threw another combination at the bag. The rhythm of it was familiar now, grounding. Her arms ached, sweat dripped down her spine, but for the first time that day, she felt in control of something.

Peggy didn’t push her to talk again, simply watched, correcting her form when needed. The silence between them was comfortable. By the time the final minute passed, Moira let her fists drop, exhaling heavily. Peggy tossed her a towel, and Moira caught it with tired hands.

“Good work today,” Peggy said, nodding in approval. “Now, off you go.”

Feeling lighter than she had in days, Moira slung the towel over her shoulder and made her way to the showers. By the time she reached the lab, freshly changed and more composed, the lightness had started to fade. She stepped inside just in time to hear Samberly arguing.

“I’m telling you, we have to try something else,” Aloysius insisted. “Your serum clearly isn’t yielding any results. I say we move on to my idea.”

“The serum takes time,” Jason countered, irritation evident in his voice. “It’s repairing damage to the neural pathways. This was never going to work overnight.”

“I see no reason we can’t use both,” Howard interjected, ever the pragmatist. Spotting Moira entering, he gestured her over. Jason gave her a quick smile as she joined him.

“What’s the new idea?” she asked warily, preparing herself for the usual barrage of jargon she could only half understand.

“Samberly wants to use a prototype machine that stimulates neurological responses,” Howard explained.

Samberly cleared his throat. “After you regained another memory, it occurred to me that physical stimuli might be necessary. Certain sounds, smells, images.”

“And you have a machine that can do all that?”

“A prototype,” Jason clarified. “It’s only been tested a handful of times. Primarily for cognitive suggestion.”

“It doesn’t require any invasive procedures, so there’s no harm in letting Moira try it,” Howard reasoned.

Moira hesitated, only mildly concerned that S.H.I.E.L.D was apparently developing what sounded suspiciously like a mind-control machine. “Can we start today?”

“I don’t see why not,” Samberly said, turning to the others. Howard immediately agreed. After a pause, Jason nodded.

“I’m going to keep refining the serum,” Jason added. “Now that we’re incorporating other stimuli, I may be able to make some modifications.”

Inside the chamber, Moira lay still, staring up at the metal walls, their smooth surfaces gleaming under the overhead lights. The incline of the table was just steep enough to be uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I know it’s not the most comfortable setup,” Jason murmured as he prepped the needle beside her. “Still in its early stages.”

“It’s fine.”

“This will make you more receptive to external stimuli,” he explained. “Hopefully, it’ll trigger another memory.” His voice was gentle, almost cautious, as he pressed the needle into her skin.

She barely felt it anymore.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” Jason assured her, giving her hand a brief squeeze before stepping out. The heavy door clanked shut behind him.

“Focus on the screen,” Samberly instructed through the speakers.

A low hum filled the chamber. The temperature in the room began to rise, the soundscape shifting – soft murmurs, the clatter of footsteps, an engine rumbling to life. Then gunfire. Then laughter. A child’s voice. Flashing images – grass, books, the glint of a river under moonlight.

Moira focused. Hard.

But when the lights flickered back on, she still remembered nothing.

Later, as Howard walked her out to the parking lot, he clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t lose faith,” he said. “We’ll keep trying, keep modifying. If it comes to it, I’ll track down Xavier myself and demand he gives your memories back.”

“He’d probably just make you forget too,” Moira grouched, though she offered Howard a small smile. She had grown fond of him, despite his eccentricities.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

“Get some sleep, kid.”

Then, just as she stepped into the breeze – the scent of flowers hit her. A warm gust of wind. Gravel beneath her feet. A voice.

And then the memory.

It was him. Charles.

They were walking together through the sprawling grounds of a mansion; his mansion. Westchester. The name came to her as naturally as the memory itself, as though it had been waiting beneath the surface, ready to be reclaimed. The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the green expanse, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. She could hear the faint rustling of leaves, the distant laughter of the other mutants somewhere inside the house. The world had felt so open then, filled with promise.

They had been talking. About the future. About a school.

For mutants.

He had spoken with such conviction, his hands animated as he described his dream. A place where those like him could be safe. Where they could learn. Where they could belong.

And she had believed in it. Believed in him.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” he had asked, his voice warm but edged with something she hadn’t recognised at the time. A quiet plea, wrapped in careful charm.

She had smiled, shaking her head. “No. I promise.”

A flicker of something passed through his expression then. Relief, maybe. Or something deeper. Something she hadn’t understood until now.

He knew, even then.

He had stepped closer, the scent of books and whisky on his breath, a mix of familiarity and something unspoken. They had kissed before, and she hadn’t hesitated to meet him halfway, feeling safe, feeling wanted. His hand had brushed against her cheek, fingers curling at the nape of her neck. She had melted into it, trusting.

But then. Something shifted.

The warmth of the moment soured, the kiss turning cold. A shiver crawled down her spine, instinct screaming that something was wrong. Her chest tightened, her breath stolen away, but not by passion. It was slipping, something inside her was slipping.

Being taken.

A breath hitched in her throat, her body paralysed by something she couldn’t name. She wanted to pull away, to speak, to tell him to stop, but her limbs wouldn’t move. Her mind felt distant, unmoored. Like water slipping through cracks, parts of her were leaking away into the void.

And Charles – his face blurred at the edges as if her mind had already begun to erase the moment before it had even finished – held her steady.

He knew what he was doing.

Moira stumbled back into the present with a sharp gasp.

The wind still blew, but now it felt colder, biting against her skin despite the warmth of the evening. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her breath coming too fast, too uneven. She pressed a hand to her chest, grounding herself. It wasn’t happening now. It was over. It was a memory.

But it didn’t feel like one. It felt like it just happened. That she could blink and she’d be back at the mansion, Charles looking up at her from his chair.

Moira turned on her heel, heading back towards the research building with purposeful strides, though her mind still reeled.

Her heart still ached.

Charles had cared about her. She was certain of that now. It hadn’t been a game, some manipulation to keep her on side. He had trusted her, had wanted her to believe in his dream just as much as he had.

And she had.

The depth of what they had shared – what they could have shared – settled into her bones, pushing out some of the anger she had carried. It hadn’t all been a lie.

But the betrayal was still there, raw and aching.

He had stolen from her. Had taken something precious, something that was hers. Her past, her choices, her mind.

And even though she understood now, understood why he had done it, why he had been so desperate to protect his people, she couldn’t forgive it.

Not yet.

Her pace quickened. Gravel gave way to tarmac as her heels clicked sharply against the pavement. By the time she reached the doors, she had already broken into a run.

Howard was only a few steps from the lab when she caught up with him.

“Howard,” she said breathlessly, grabbing his arm.

He turned, eyes narrowing in concern. “Moira. What is it?”

She swallowed, steadying herself. “I remembered something.”

Chapter Text

More memories came back, and she continued training.

At first, they were just moments – brief flashes that came with no context. A conversation in a quiet study, a hand on hers, a laugh she could almost hear. But as time went on, the pieces became clearer, the emotions more tangible. She remembered Charles. Not just his face, not just the kiss, but the way she had felt around him. Safe. Trusted. Respected. And in return, she had believed in him. She had seen his dream as something worth protecting.

That was what made it all worse.

Because now she understood why he had done it.

That didn’t mean she forgave him.

The betrayal was still raw, but the anger had softened. What had once been a furious, burning resentment had dulled into something more complicated. Hurt, yes, but also understanding. He had wiped her memory not out of cruelty, but because he had believed he was protecting his people. And perhaps, deep down, some part of her still wanted to protect them too.

But she wasn’t that woman anymore. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

After two months of intensive daily sessions with Peggy, Moira’s training was cut back to three times a week as she was assigned office-level intelligence work. The days stretched out as she raced between seminars for her induction into S.H.I.E.L.D., listened in on phone taps, and met with the team working on her forced amnesia. She spent more time with Peggy in the field, standing back during one mission as her S.O. singlehandedly took out the men guarding the facility.

Just as she settled into her new routine, her workload was increased again, and she only met Peggy twice a week for training. After six months, they only saw each other a few hours once a week, Moira now largely practising on her own around her shifts in the communication labs. She went on more operations with Peggy, and her S.O. increasingly trusted her to take charge. Something the CIA had been reluctant to allow after years of service, always assigning her a chaperone.

It was more than she could have hoped for, and with each passing day, her faith in S.H.I.E.L.D. grew. The chaos of the past year – being turned away by the mutants, leaving the CIA, fighting to regain her memories – started to feel worth it. She was finally where she was meant to be. Doing work that mattered with people who allowed her to grow, to learn, to prove herself.

Still, it was a surprise when Peggy announced during one of their training sessions that she would receive her badge the following day. She would become an official S.H.I.E.L.D. agent; a specialist. From then on, she would take solo field assignments, sometimes within a team but mostly alone. She would receive Level 3 clearance, gain access to S.H.I.E.L.D’s vast data repositories and begin working on high-priority missions.

“You’ve displayed excellent aptitude in all of our fields of training,” Peggy reminded her, “and given your prior experience with the CIA, we always expected you to graduate, as it were, in a shorter timeframe than most new recruits.”

She smiled warmly, offering her hand to shake. “You deserve this, Agent MacTaggert. You’ve been an exemplary student, and I look forward to working alongside you as a colleague. I do not doubt that you will do yourself and the organisation proud.”

“Thank you,” Moira said genuinely. Coming from Agent Carter, it was high praise indeed.

“You’ll start taking solo field assignments as soon as you get your pin and badge. We like to have a formal ceremony for recruits once they complete their training.”

“Do I get a cool code name?” she asked, only partially joking. She’d met Agent 324 the other day, though, of course, Peggy was on a first-name basis with her. There had also been introductions made to Red, Agent 9 and Rapture – the latter of whom introduced himself like they were old friends. Peggy had firmly led her away with a hand on her shoulder when she began to inexplicably return his smile.

“We’ll work on it,” Peggy assured her with a light chuckle, heading for the door. Before she could leave, Moira called after her. “Will you be there when I get the badge?”

Peggy caught herself on the doorframe and shot her a playfully exasperated look. “Just what kind of S.O. do you think I am?”

There were only a handful of people at the graduation ceremony. Two scientists, one field agent, and three technicians. They all watched, barely schooling their looks of awe as Peggy stepped up to pin the badge to Moira’s lapel.

“Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Agent 24.” Peggy winked, recognising the pride radiating from her student.

There were no more doubts. Moira belonged there. The badge only formalised it.

As the graduates broke off to talk amongst themselves and drink the complimentary champagne, Peggy discreetly pulled Moira toward the door. “We’ve assembled the board on an urgent matter.”

Moira opened her mouth to apologise for keeping her.

“We need you in with us.”

Shutting her mouth, Moira followed her to the boardroom. Waiting until they were beyond the hearing range of the celebrating party they left behind, Moira asked, “Am I getting a mission?”

“If you choose to take it. The choice is entirely yours.”

The board was already assembled. At one end of the long oval table sat the founders with Colonel Phillips taking the middle seat at its head. On his left sat Stark and Carter swiftly took the chair to his right. At the opposite end of the table, S.H.I.E.L.D’s director of the past decade – Rick Stoner – waited. He was flanked by Nick Fury and Agent 9, who offered Moira a curt nod as Peggy made sure everyone present had been introduced.

“Congratulations on completing your training, Agent MacTaggert,” Stoner said, his gaze assessing. “I have been told you made exemplary progress during induction. After reviewing your file, I certainly look forward to seeing how you perform in the field.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“That brings us to today’s topic.” He continued. “As I am sure you have gathered, by the presence of our esteemed board, this is a mission of particular sensitivity. I have also been reminded to say, on more than one occasion,” he rumbled, raising an eyebrow at Carter, “that this is an assignment you may refuse, given its personal nature.”

Moira’s stomach knotted.

“We are talking, of course, about the so-called X-Men.”

Moira felt the room contract around her.

“We need you to make contact with them,” Stoner stated plainly. “To make them aware of S.H.I.E.L.D’s existence and to discuss the potential threat that is Erik Lehnsherr.”

Moira silently thanked Howard for insisting she learn poker during training – one of his more random, yet surprisingly useful lessons. Keeping her expression impassive, she gave a small nod to signal she was listening, though her mind raced ahead, calculating the risks.

She couldn’t go to the mansion. That much was clear. If she set foot on the grounds, Charles would see her coming before she even reached the front door. If he still believed her presence was a threat, what was stopping him from wiping her memories again? And if Erik was there… well, the last time they’d seen each other, he’d nearly killed her. She had no interest in testing his restraint.

Phillips spoke first. “We’ve been monitoring them since you recovered enough memories to provide intel on their location.”

Moira frowned. “Then this mission could already be compromised. If Xavier sensed your agents near the house…”

“We accounted for that,” Phillips assured her. “We didn’t send anyone near the mansion directly. Our people were assigned low-risk operations in Winchester, with no knowledge of the X-Men. Routine exercises, casual surveillance. We’ve also tapped the emergency response lines at the hospital and local law enforcement. If something happens in that area, we’ll know about it.”

“The team accompanying you,” Fury continued, “has been briefed on the mutants we expect to be there, based on your recollection. You’ll remain in town, close enough to provide backup or additional information if needed. Given how things ended the last time you were with the mutants, we don’t expect you to go to the mansion itself. Just be in place. On standby.”

Agent 9 leaned forward. “That being said, if you chose to go, you’d be a hell of an asset. No one else in S.H.I.E.L.D has history with them like you do.”

“It’s not a position we want to force you into,” Fury cut in smoothly, ignoring the sidelong glances from his colleagues. He spoke with enough authority that no one challenged him further, though Moira could tell Agent 9 wasn’t done pressing the issue.

She gave him a quick nod of thanks. He couldn’t be much older than thirty, yet he sat beside Stoner as if he belonged there. Peggy had never elaborated on his role within S.H.I.E.L.D., only that he liaised between them and the CIA. But there was more to it than that. He had the confidence to disagree with a director and senior agents.

Lacking Fury’s certainty, she chose her words carefully. “Even if I don’t go with the team, Xavier will still see me. The moment he reads an agent’s mind, he’ll know I’m nearby.”

“That’s true,” Stoner admitted, clearly hoping to use that argument to push her towards accompanying the team. Moira didn’t give him the chance.

“And he’ll see that I’m the one who provided information on their location. He could perceive that as a threat. He’s made it clear he doesn’t trust external agencies, not after Division X.”

“I think I’ve got a way around that,” Howard interjected. “We keep Moira separate from the team until after first contact. She stays at a different hotel, not tied to the operation. The agents get a secure line to contact her for intel if they need it. That way, when Xavier gets a peek into their heads, all he finds is a nameless voice. You can do different accents, right?”

That had been an entertaining class.

Stoner exhaled sharply. “That’s an awful lot of effort.”

“Do we really believe Xavier would attempt to wipe Agent MacTaggert’s memory again?” Stoner challenged, scanning the room. “Especially in the presence of a full S.H.I.E.L.D. team? When we’ve already demonstrated that we can restore what he’s taken?”

“I highly doubt it,” Peggy said, leaning forward. “But keeping Moira’s involvement quiet gives us the advantage. If the X-Men don’t know where our intelligence is coming from, they’re less likely to act defensively. It gives us a window to prove we mean no harm before they make assumptions. Strategically, keeping Agent MacTaggert out of sight strengthens our position.”

“I agree,” Howard said easily.

“As do I,” Phillips added.

“The plan has its merits,” Fury said, glancing at Stoner with an expression that almost dared him to argue.

Stoner surveyed the table, clearly outvoted. With a sigh, he leaned back. “Fine. Get your report together and be ready to depart the day after next, Agent MacTaggert.”

Moira nodded, keeping her expression neutral. But beneath the surface, her mind was already turning.

Winchester. The mansion. Charles. Erik.

She wasn’t ready.

But she was going anyway.

Moira tightened her seatbelt as the plane began its descent, rubbing at her ears to ease the pressure from the turbulence.

She was seated near the rear, separate from the S.H.I.E.L.D. welcome team, who had no idea their silent contact was onboard. Fury had assured her that the team was highly trained in engaging exceptionals, but this was different. As far as Moira knew, even with her Level 3 clearance, S.H.I.E.L.D. had never approached a group this large before. Not just exceptionals, but mutants, a self-contained faction with their own hierarchy, their own agenda. And she had given them up.

She had done the right thing. Hadn’t she?

Her report had been thorough. The team knew exactly what they were walking into –high-powered, highly-trained, possibly hostile mutants. At her recommendation, they would go unarmed, with their badges in full view. Everything else was at their discretion. Fury trusted them. She had to as well.

The plan was simple: make contact with Xavier, retreat to a hotel, then call their anonymous specialist. Moira would be waiting at a guest house just a short walk away. Close enough to intervene if things went sideways, far enough that she wouldn’t be within Xavier’s reach. Hopefully.

She exhaled sharply and stared at her hands. The knot in her stomach, the one that had been there since she joined S.H.I.E.L.D., was heavier than ever. Normally, she could silence it by reminding herself of what Charles had done; what he had taken from her. But today, that didn’t seem to be enough.

He had wiped her memories to protect them, to stop people like McCone from ever finding them again. She could understand that now. She even knew, deep down, that she would have done the same in his position. But that didn’t change the fact that he had taken her choices from her. That he had let her be cast aside, forgotten, as though she had never mattered at all.

Lehnsherr would be furious when he realised she was involved, though he’d probably already decided she was an enemy. Xavier, though…

She didn’t know how he would react. Would he be wary? Curious? Would he even care? Would he be glad to see her?

That last thought twisted in her chest.

Moira barely noticed the landing, lost in thought. By the time she disembarked, the team was already ahead of her, moving swiftly through the terminal. She lingered behind, keeping her head down, making sure they were out of sight before she followed. Charles would pick her up the second he caught her in someone’s thoughts. The longer she stayed invisible, the better.

After a deliberately slow walk through the airport, she stopped at the hotel bar, hoping a tonic water might settle her nerves. It didn’t. Neither did the two men who tried, unsuccessfully, to offer her cocktails. By the time she climbed into a cab and made her way to the guest house, the tension in her chest hadn’t eased.

The place was as quaint as she’d expected – clean, quiet, a stark contrast to the storm in her head. The manager was friendly, chatty, but Moira quickly declined the offer of afternoon tea and locked the door behind her. There was nothing to do now but wait. Wait for the team to make contact. Wait to see if everything would go smoothly. Wait to find out if Xavier already knew she was here.

Tossing her bag onto the bed, Moira exhaled and forced herself into motion.

She needed to move, to focus on something other than what was happening at the mansion. Some light exercise would do. Tai Chi was good for clearing her mind, Peggy had always said.

Except, today, she couldn’t clear it.

Every time she tried to focus, a thought dragged her back.

She had never truly understood Charles’ powers. She had known, of course, that he was powerful. But she had never thought, never imagined, he would turn them on her.

Not until it was too late.

She had trusted him. That was the part that made her stomach twist the most. She had trusted him, had thought herself safe, only to wake up and realise that the past few months of her life had been carved out of her skull like they were nothing. As though she were nothing.

She should hate him. She did. She thought she did.

And yet…

There were moments, recently uncovered memories, that made the anger hard to hold on to.

Sean laughing as he launched himself off a satellite dish, half terrified, half exhilarated. Alex grinning as he nudged her shoulder in the lab, teasing her about something she couldn’t quite remember. Charles sitting beside her in the mansion’s library, a book in his hands, reading aloud in a voice that made everything else fade away.

She hadn’t just lost her memories. She had lost them.

And now she was walking back into their world, not as an ally, but as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Her foot faltered on the next stance, and she clenched her jaw.

This was ridiculous.

She wasn’t betraying them. She was protecting them.

S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t Division X. They weren’t here to exploit the mutants, to force them into servitude or use them as weapons. They had their own agents; exceptionals who had chosen this path, not had it thrust upon them. This wasn’t the same.

Was it?

Moira sighed and let her arms drop, frustrated. She was too on edge for Tai Chi. She needed something more physical, something to burn off the tension. She moved into position for push-ups, letting out a slow breath – and then the door to her room slammed open.

Her gun was drawn before she’d even processed the movement, instincts taking over as she levelled it at the figure in the doorway.

Alex Summers skidded to a halt, hands up, panting from what must have been a mad dash from the mansion. His face split into a grin the moment he saw her.

“Moira!”

“Summers?” she snapped. “What the… how did you know I was here?”

“The Professor told me where to find you.” He was still grinning, completely unbothered by the gun pointed at him. “He said to bring you to the house.”

“Bring me?”

Alex hesitated, realising belatedly that she wasn’t lowering the weapon. His expression shifted, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

“We need to go,” he said more seriously. “The Professor needs your help. Magneto showed up.”

Moira’s grip on the gun tightened.

“Who?”

“Erik,” Alex clarified. “That’s what he’s calling himself now. Raven gave him the name.”

Moira exhaled sharply as the memory surfaced. Raven, in the mansion, bestowing names upon them all – Havok, Beast, Professor X.

She hadn’t given Moira one.

“What is he doing at the mansion?”

“Trying to recruit our students.” Alex shifted, looking uneasy. “Like Shaw did. Except, so far, he hasn’t started killing anyone who resists. But the Professor…” He tapped his temple. “He thinks Erik’s got an ulterior motive.”

“What kind of motive?”

Alex huffed impatiently. “I didn’t exactly have time to ask questions, Moira. I was busy running to get you.”

She studied him carefully, her weapon still raised.

“Prove it’s really you.”

That got her an exasperated look.

“Seriously?”

“You were with Raven for months. Prove you’re not her.”

Alex hesitated, then his brow furrowed in concentration.

“When we were training, Hank helped the Professor with my powers, you were there with Sean.” His grin returned slightly. “I remember watching him blow all the glass out of the windows when he used his powers. The Professor nearly fell over. You didn’t even flinch.” He tilted his head. “You always were tough as nails. And Raven wasn’t there for that. She wouldn’t know.”

Moira’s grip loosened slightly. Slowly, she lowered the gun.

“Is the team all right?”

“Oh yeah, we’re well-matched these days,” Alex said, stepping inside. “We’ve been recruiting.”

He glanced down, his eyes flickering to her hand. Moira followed his gaze and realised her knuckles had gone white around the grip of the gun.

“You know that won’t work on Magneto,” he pointed out.

“That’s fine,” she said coolly. “I’ve got something special for him.”

Chapter Text

Moira was glad she’d had the sense to change into her tactical gear back at the hotel. Climbing into Alex’s tiny car, their shoulders knocked together as he sped towards the mansion.

She should have felt tense. And she did. But beneath it, there was something else – a flicker of something warm, something familiar. It had been a long time since she’d seen Alex, and despite everything, she was glad he was the one taking her back. Still, as the mansion came into view, the uneasy weight in her stomach only grew heavier.

The first time she’d come here, she’d been an outsider. A visitor. Charles had made her feel welcome, of course, but she had never truly belonged. And now?

Now she was walking through the door as something worse. In their eyes, she’d be nothing more than a traitor.

The thought sat uncomfortably in her chest.

“Still training?” she asked, just to distract herself.

“Every day,” Alex sighed. “Professor insists. My aim’s a hell of a lot better, but I still prefer having my gear to control the blasts. Left it in my room, though.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“The Professor’s study. He’s moved it downstairs, a few doors from the main staircase.”

“Right. We’ll go in through the side entrance. I’ll take point, you cover me. Sound good?”

Alex shot her a look. “Fine. But are you gonna tell me what’s going on? ‘Cause I know for a fact the CIA never gave you a get-up like that back in Division X.”

The CIA hadn’t even given her a decent pair of sunglasses.

S.H.I.E.L.D., on the other hand, had kitted her out properly. Tactical suit, weapons holsters, comms, even climate-resistant material. But the real luxury? The boots. Easily the most comfortable she’d ever worn. Stark had outdone himself. She just should have known better than to say that out loud. The next day, she’d found half a dozen pairs waiting outside her flat, another ‘gift.’

Peggy had laughed and told her about the time he’d landed a private plane outside her house to deliver birds of paradise from his Hawaiian villa, to celebrate her engagement. Her fiancé’s parked car had been flattened in the process.

Compared to that, boots were tame.

“I left the CIA,” she said simply. “Before they could shove me out.”

“And now…?” Alex prompted.

“I got recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. Been training with them for the last year. This is my first mission.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Never heard of it.”

“Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage, Law-Enforcement Division. And yes, I know it’s a mouthful.”

“So, not a social call then?”

Moira scoffed. “Hardly. S.H.I.E.L.D. sent a team to make contact with the X-Men, let them know what we do. We’re international, unlike the CIA, and we only get involved in stuff like Cuba.”

“So, Division X on steroids?” Alex asked, sounding wary.

She laughed. “Pretty much. Except run by people who actually know what they’re doing. And they give their agents dental.” She lowered her voice. “There’s a rumour they’ve dealt with aliens, but that’s way above my clearance.”

Alex pulled the car around the back of the mansion. They’d go the rest of the way on foot, keep things quiet.

The second he shut his door, Alex turned to her, suspicion all over his face. “And you told them where we are? You led them here?”

Moira let out a sharp breath. “They were coming anyway. You lot weren’t exactly subtle in Cuba. The public might not know about you, but intelligence agencies do. It was only a matter of time before someone approached you, and trust me, you’re safest with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“But you told them about us? What we do? Our weaknesses?” Alex’s voice was tight with anger like he was barely holding it together.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Summers,” she snapped as they reached the gate. He let her in, and they kept moving. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be with the CIA.”

“What are you on about?” he whispered as they crouched by the house.

She glared at him. “You really don’t know?”

Rolling his eyes, Alex huffed. “No, and I’m getting sick of the attitude.”

Realising he genuinely had no clue, Moira hesitated before spelling it out. “Xavier wiped my memories. Everything with Division X. Russia. Cuba. I woke up in my flat missing months of my life.”

Alex’s expression darkened. “The Professor said you went back to work. He never… he wouldn’t…” He took a breath, forcing himself back into his usual unreadable state. “I trust you, Moira. The Professor should’ve too. And if I’d known what he did, I would’ve told him as much. But you shouldn’t have brought these people here. We’ve been burnt before.”

“I’ve been burnt twice,” she shot back.

Alex was silent for a long moment, studying her face. Then he exhaled and shook his head. “I trust you, Moira. But you better hope the others do too.”

Moira pressed her lips together and nodded.

They reached the side door. Moira checked inside – empty. She pulled her gun and pushed the door open. The mansion was too quiet. Then, a voice echoed through her skull.

“I know I’ve got no right to ask, but if you could avoid shooting any of my students, I’d appreciate it.”

A shudder ran through her. The first time she’d heard Xavier’s voice in a year, and it felt all too familiar.

Alex barely reacted, but Moira had to force herself to stay put.

“Alex, they don’t know Moira’s here, but they’re looking for you.”

Alex frowned. “What do you want me to do?”

Before Xavier could answer, Moira spoke. “Go. If they see you, they might stop searching the house.”

Alex hesitated, but when Xavier confirmed the coast was clear, he took off.

She was alone now. Just her and Xavier in her head.

“Erik’s been here twice since Cuba,” Xavier continued. “He’s tried to recruit my students. So far, none have left. Unlike Shaw, he hasn’t used force. But this time… your friends have made him uneasy.”

Moira stayed quiet. Erik wasn’t her problem.

“Only a few more minutes,” Xavier assured. “Now that Alex is accounted for, Erik’s pulling his people back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

Moira tightened her grip on her gun. She definitely wasn’t taking orders from him. But for now, she waited.

A loud thud broke the silence. Someone was shouting. Her pulse spiked. If Erik was losing it, her team might be in danger.

Enough, she thought.

Moira slipped into the house, gun at the ready, and headed towards the voices.

She was done waiting.

Moira’s knuckles whitened around the grip of her gun as she crept through the corridor, heading for the main hall. From there, she could pinpoint the voices and locate the other agents.

As she moved past the grand staircase, a floorboard creaked. It gave her a split-second warning before instinct took over. Years of training kicked in. Grabbing the handrail, she vaulted over, landing in a crouch just as a flaming ball shot past where she had been standing.

Angel’s eyes widened. “MacTaggert? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” Moira said pointedly. “You?”

Angel grimaced, shifting her weight as she eyed the gun aimed at her. “Xavier still thinks we can all just get along, huh? I thought he’d wised up and got rid of you.”

“You should’ve stuck with the X-Men, Angel. Maybe then someone would’ve taught you not to antagonise a person pointing a gun at your head.”

Angel hesitated for half a second before baring her teeth, lips curling as she prepared another blast. But Moira was already moving. Ducking low, she planted one hand on the floor and swept her legs out, knocking Angel off her feet. As soon as she hit the ground, Moira brought the butt of her gun down, clipping her hard across the head.

Breathing heavily, she checked her surroundings before dragging Angel’s unconscious form into a nearby room. A quick pulse check confirmed she was stable. No time to deal with her now. Moira straightened, rolling her shoulders as she carried on towards the study.

She barely made it past the grand staircase before something crashed into her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“Moira? Holy shit, is that you?”

Sean.

The tension in her chest loosened slightly. She turned, finding him grinning at her with wide eyes.

“Been a while, Cassidy.”

His smile faltered slightly as he took in her gear. “You, uh… you back with the CIA?”

“No,” she said quickly, softer than she meant to. “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. now.”

Sean looked like he wanted to ask more, but another loud bang echoed from the hall.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll catch up later.”

His grin returned, a little lopsided. “Yeah. Later.”

Together, they moved towards the voices.

Inside, Charles was speaking, calm but firm.

“Erik, if you’d just listen, I can explain why they’re here.”

“They’re the enemy, Charles.”

“They’re not anyone’s enemy – least of all mine.”

Moira pressed herself against the wall outside the door.

“You’re really going to let them recruit you again?” Erik’s voice was sharp, dangerous. “Haven’t you learnt your lesson? Humans can’t be trusted.”

Moira’s grip tightened on her gun.

Inside, Charles exhaled slowly. “I have been betrayed by just as many mutants as humans, Erik.”

There was a pause. A heavy silence.

“Moira,” Charles’ voice entered her mind again, softer this time. “Please.”

She clenched her jaw. A mix of emotions warred inside her – anger, guilt, betrayal, and something else she wasn’t ready to name.

But she wasn’t here for him.

She took a breath and shoved the door open, gun raised before she’d even taken in the full scene. Erik stood over Charles, mid-rant, his helmet gleaming under the study’s low light. Raven and Frost flanked him, the former in her natural form. Azazel and Riptide were nowhere in sight.

She didn’t hesitate.

Her finger squeezed the trigger, and the synthetic bullet struck Erik’s shoulder with a sharp crack. He staggered back, hand clamping over the wound as blood seeped through his suit.

Raven let out a furious shriek and launched at Moira, but she was ready. Twisting away from each strike, Moira dodged Raven’s attacks with practised ease, her breathing steady even as the blue-skinned mutant came at her with relentless speed.

“Raven, don’t do this!” Charles called out, his voice thick with desperation as he struggled in his chair.

Sean and Alex surged forward to intercept Frost, who barely had time to shift into diamond form before Sean pinned her arms.

Hank tackled Raven around the waist, wrenching her back. She shrieked, her eyes locked on Erik, who was struggling against the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents closing in on him. His helmet was torn away, leaving him vulnerable.

“Erik!” Raven’s voice cracked, something between rage and pleading.

Frost, back in her human form, stilled as Sean pressed a pair of scissors to her throat. For a moment, the fight seemed to settle. The room tensed, the balance shifting in their favour.

Then the air thickened with red smoke.

Moira coughed, eyes watering as the haze burned her lungs. Through the blur, she saw Erik disappear. Then Frost. Then Azazel reappeared in bursts of red, grabbing his teammates and vanishing before they could be stopped.

Raven was the last to go. She tore free from Hank’s grip, rolling smoothly to her feet before Azazel’s hand landed on her shoulder. She cast one last glance toward Charles before the teleport swallowed her whole.

The smoke dissipated, leaving only silence and the metallic tang of blood in the air.

Moira scowled. “Damn it.”

“They took Angel too,” Charles murmured. His expression was unreadable, but she saw the tightness in his jaw, the flicker of something raw in his eyes.

Alex was already moving. “I’m going to check on the kids, make sure everyone’s okay.”

“They’re fine,” Charles assured, but Alex didn’t slow.

Moira exhaled, pushing down the roiling frustration in her chest. She turned to the SHIELD team. “Everyone all right?”

“We’re fine, ma’am,” Johnson, their team leader, replied easily, an easy grin already back in place. “I presume you’re our contact? Agent 24? Hell of an entrance.”

Moira nodded but turned at the sound of her name.

“Moira.” Sean’s voice was softer this time, the unspoken question clear in his tone. He was still catching up, still trying to piece together why she was here, why she was wearing that uniform, standing beside government agents instead of them.

“Sean,” Charles interjected smoothly. “Would you check on the pupils? Alex is rounding them up.”

Hank shifted uncomfortably beside him. “I’ll go too.”

Moira narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t thought about it before, but of all of them, Hank had always been the most loyal to Charles. He was there in the beginning, right at Xavier’s side, watching as Moira was pulled deeper into their world. And he was there at the end too, when she was cast out of it.

Had he helped? She had no memory of how she got home after Cuba. No recollection of leaving the mansion, of returning to her flat, of resuming her life as if nothing had happened. And Charles… Charles wasn’t the type to leave things to chance.

Sean hesitated, glancing back at Moira like he wanted to say something else.

“I’ll catch up later,” Charles said firmly. “I need to finish this discussion.”

Sean’s brow furrowed, but eventually, he nodded and followed Hank out.

The door shut with a heavy thud, leaving only silence in its wake.

Johnson cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Anything else you need, Professor? We know you’ve got other matters to attend to.”

“Yes,” Charles replied, smoothing his expression into something more composed. “I’d like to discuss this with my associates. I’ll be in touch tomorrow if that’s convenient?”

“Take your time,” Johnson said, handing over a card. “Our details are here. We’re staying at the hotel down the road.”

“Yes, I know it.” Charles took the card between two fingers. “Thank you for your time, Agent Johnson. It’s been… enlightening.”

He shook hands with the agents one by one.

Moira moved past him, holding the door open for the others, already planning her exit. But, of course, getting away from Charles was never that easy.

“Actually, Agent MacTaggert, could I have a word?”

Her jaw clenched. She forced a smile at Johnson. “It’s fine.”

“We’ll wait outside,” he assured her.

“You don’t have to,” Charles suggested. “Alex can drive her back – he wants to speak to her. Sean too.”

Moira’s lips pressed into a thin line. She turned to Johnson. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel. I won’t be long.”

She watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents leave through the office window, tracking their progress to the car park. The moment the door shut, Charles wheeled himself forward, stopping at his desk.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Moira didn’t look at him until the agents were driving away.

She crossed her arms, forcing herself to stay rooted in place as Charles studied her with an unreadable expression. His gaze was softer than she expected – like he was glad to see her. That only made her stomach twist harder.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” he finally said, his voice gentle. “S.H.I.E.L.D. suits you.”

Moira exhaled sharply, unimpressed by the pleasantries. “Let’s not pretend this is a reunion.”

Charles sighed, running a hand over his face. “Moira, I…”

“You took my memories.” She cut him off, voice cold. “Everything. Russia, Cuba, Division X, all of it. Do you know what that did to me?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“You weren’t protecting me,” she snapped. “You were protecting yourself. And your students. And Erik.” Her fists clenched. “And it worked, Charles. The CIA didn’t have the proof they needed to keep chasing you. I got kicked off the case, demoted. I had to fight just to stay in the agency, and even then, they never trusted me again.”

His brows drew together, regret clear in his expression. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did,” she said, her voice quieter. “And now, after everything, I still end up back here.”

Charles’ lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something – an apology, a justification, she didn’t know. But she didn’t give him the chance.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” she asked, tilting her head. “Alex, Sean. They had no idea.”

A trace of guilt flickered across his face. “They would have been angry with me.”

Moira huffed out a dry laugh. “I wonder why.”

“They cared for you,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on her like he was seeing a ghost. “We all did.”

She swallowed. The way he said it sent a flicker of warmth through her chest. Memories surfacing of late nights in the mansion, training sessions, laughing over shared drinks. It had been good, once.

Then she remembered waking up in her flat, months of her life erased. Alone.

She forced her expression back into something impassive. “You don’t get to say that, Charles. Not after what you did.”

He lowered his eyes, nodding slightly. “I know.”

Moira exhaled, forcing herself to focus. She wasn’t here to relitigate the past, no matter how much it still bled.

“Look,” she said, voice steadier, “S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t Division X. They’re not coming to round you up or weaponise you. They don’t work that way. But they are keeping an eye on you.” She hesitated. “For now, I can keep them from seeing you as a threat.”

Charles studied her. “And Erik?”

Her jaw tightened. “He’s making his own messes.”

“He’ll be back,” Charles warned.

Moira nodded. “I know.”

She turned for the door. She needed to get out of there before he found a way to chip at her resolve.

“Moira.”

She stopped.

“If you ever want…” He hesitated, then pressed on. “You’re always welcome here.”

Moira’s breath caught for just a moment. She forced herself to nod, then stepped toward the door.

“I don’t like making you uncomfortable,” he called out, trying to stop her from walking away for a few seconds longer.

Her shoulders stiffened.

“I haven’t read your mind since you arrived.”

She folded her arms. “But you did before.”

Charles hesitated.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

How could she believe him? Was he reading her mind now, or wasn’t he? And how could she ever know the truth? She wished they’d never met.

Charles moved around his desk, watching her carefully. When she didn’t respond, he gestured towards the chair opposite him. “Won’t you sit?”

Moira let out a sharp breath. “And if I say no, will you make me?” She saw the flicker of guilt in his face and, despite herself, felt a small surge of satisfaction.

“You can leave if you want,” he said evenly. “I won’t stop you. Alex is in the hall, ready to go when you are. He’s already planning a few choice words for me once you’re gone.”

She glanced at the door, genuinely considering just walking out. It was tempting, but she knew she couldn’t avoid this forever. Their paths would cross again, her job made sure of that.

With a sigh, she pulled out the chair and sat down stiffly. Charles almost smiled but had the sense to think better of it.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said.

“I suppose we do.” Moira kept her tone neutral, trying to channel her best Carter impression. Peggy would’ve handled this with cool efficiency. “The team briefed you?”

Charles took a measured breath. “Erik arrived just as they were getting to the point.”

“But you already knew why they were here. You didn’t need them to tell you.”

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “I’m open to staying in contact with S.H.I.E.L.D., but I need to know more.”

“You know who we are. You know what we do. What else do you want?”

“The people your organisation works with – exceptionals I believe was the term – does that include other mutants?”

“It’s not just mutants.”

“Yes,” Charles mused. “The team had some interesting stories. One of the agents, Rapture, appears to be a low-level telepath…”

Moira’s jaw tightened. “Rapture is an agent.” She wasn’t sure what irritated her more –Charles’ fixation on the only agent with powers, or the realisation that she hadn’t known Rapture was telepathic before now. The thought that he had read her mind when they first met made her skin crawl.

“I’m sorry,” Charles said softly.

Moira looked up sharply. “For what?”

“I know it makes you uncomfortable. But I need to understand S.H.I.E.L.D. Whether they’re a threat or an ally.” He gestured vaguely. “I need to know if we can trust them.”

“I trust S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Moira said automatically.

Charles arched a brow. “Do you?”

“I had doubts at first, and I know there’s a lot I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I respect what they do. They respect me. And I’m proud to work for them.”

They regarded each other across the desk.

“I trust you, Moira,” Charles said quietly.

She let out a bitter laugh. “If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have wiped my memory.”

Charles’ gaze didn’t waver. “It was in the best interest of our community.”

Moira stood up abruptly. “Of course it was.”

“Moira, wait.”

Her fingers curled around the doorknob, but she hesitated.

“I did it to protect you.”

She turned slowly, her expression unreadable. “Protect me?” Her voice was dangerously quiet. “What the hell did you think you were protecting me from?”

Charles’ composure finally cracked. “From people like S.H.I.E.L.D. who might use you to get to us.”

Moira scoffed. “That’s it? Do you think the only reason they hired me was to get to you? That I have nothing else to offer?”

Charles hesitated. “I don’t know why they hired you. The agents follow orders, but I don’t know the motivations behind those orders. I don’t know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is interested in us.”

She exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “You don’t trust me at all, do you?”

Charles opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him answer.

“Goodbye, Professor.”

She walked out without looking back.

Alex was waiting in the hall, arms crossed. As she approached, he studied her carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

He nodded, and they left without another word.

As Alex started the engine and pulled onto the drive, Moira kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Chapter Text

All Moira had on her was a gun, some cash, and an extraction number memorised in case things went sideways. There had been reports of a possible exceptional in Honduras, and it was her job to investigate, determine whether they were a threat, and, if possible, bring them into S.H.I.E.L.D.

The biggest challenge would be tracking them down. S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided a set of blurry photos, but they weren’t much to go on. Once the plane landed, all she could do was talk to locals, keep an eye on the area, and hope they were still around. No one was certain what their abilities were, which was another concern. Just another problem to add to an already long list.

Leaving Xavier’s home had left her with a lot to think about. Part of her still burned with anger whenever she thought about Charles or Hank, but seeing Alex and Sean again had reminded her how much she missed them. Once upon a time, they had been a team, and at least two of them had genuinely cared about her.

Before Alex had dropped her off at the guesthouse, she’d handed him a card with her number on it – not her S.H.I.E.L.D. line, but the home number she rarely used. She checked the answering machine whenever she could.

The drive had been quiet, but as she opened the door, Alex had spoken up. “I’ll be in touch. And I’ll be having words with the Professor.”

“You don’t have to do that, Alex,” she said firmly.

“It wasn’t right.” He shook his head. “Besides, the others deserve to know.”

“I think Hank already does,” she sighed. She was fairly certain he was the one who had arranged to get her home safely.

“Sean doesn’t,” Alex frowned. “And I promise you, I didn’t either.”

“I know.” She offered a small smile. “Thanks for the ride, Alex.”

“Anytime, Agent MacTaggert.” He grinned before pulling away.

Watching his car disappear, Moira had snuck in around the back, quickly changing into civilian clothes before making her way on foot to meet the team at the hotel.

A quiet tension filled the room when she entered – no one liked the idea of having their mind probed, even when they had advance warning.

“Ma’am,” Johnson acknowledged her, bent over the small table in the corner as he wrote his report. “Ops coordinator just rang. Your S.O. wants you to call in.”

Moira nodded curtly, crossing the room to pick up the phone. She had the number memorised, along with other emergency contacts – including, for some reason, a direct line to Howard Stark’s pool house.

“Agent Carter,” came Peggy’s voice on the other end.

“Agent 24,” Moira replied crisply, turning her back on the room.

“Status report.”

“I entered the mansion after being contacted by Alex Summers. One round fired at Erik Lehnsherr – shoulder wound. No injuries among the X-Men.”

“You used the plastic rounds?”

“Yes. Very effective.”

“Howard will be pleased to hear that. And Erik?”

“Azazel teleported him and the others out.”

“How did Summers know where to find you?”

“Xavier sent him when Lehnsherr showed up. Though it’s unclear how Xavier knew I was there. And judging by what I saw, this isn’t the first time Erik’s arrived uninvited.”

“I see. He may be consolidating power faster than expected,” Peggy mused. “I understand the team informed Xavier about our organisation. How do you think they responded?”

“They’re wary. But Xavier’s curiosity will get the better of him. It’s only a matter of time before he reaches out – probably the next time Lehnsherr makes a move. He knows we’ve been collecting intel on him, and he should see the logic in using that.”

“Noted. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

“Nothing of significance, ma’am.”

Peggy sighed. “An S.O. isn’t just there to provide physical training, Moira. Their job is also to help agents cope with the pressures of fieldwork. That support doesn’t stop just because you’re working independently.”

Moira hesitated, aware of the team listening behind her. But Peggy, as always, saw straight through her.

“Do you still feel like you’re betraying them?”

Moira swallowed. “Yes.”

“Even though Xavier violated your trust, you don’t think it justifies providing us with intel.”

“It’s complicated.”

Peggy’s voice softened. “Moira, you can walk away from this anytime you want – this assignment, even S.H.I.E.L.D. If you don’t want to work with the mutants anymore, Fury will reassign you. Yes, it’s useful having you on this case, but that’s not the only reason we recruited you. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs good people – people who aren’t afraid to do what’s right, even when it’s hard. When most people see powered individuals for the first time, they panic and run. You stayed. You investigated. And you saw past the labels. That’s rare.

“The only question you have to ask yourself is – do you want to walk away from them completely?”

Moira’s grip tightened on the receiver. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. It had been a long day, and she wasn’t about to cry in front of a room full of agents.

“Am I cleared to return to base?” she asked, voice steady.

“Actually,” Peggy said, the sound of shuffling papers audible over the line. “If that’s your decision, there’s a high-priority case that just came through. Go pack. I’ll wire you the details.”

“Thank you, Agent Carter.”

Moira hung up the phone, exhaling slowly. Time to move.

“I’ve been reassigned,” Moira said, turning back to Johnson. “Do you need any further intelligence before I go?”

He exchanged a quick glance with Agents Paige and Buhle before replying. “Do you have any idea about the range of Professor Xavier’s telepathic abilities?”

Moira exhaled slowly. “On his own, he shouldn’t be able to hear you from here. But if he uses Cerebro, he can look in on you whenever he wants.” Her brow furrowed at her own words. “Beyond that, I don’t know much. The Mutants Division focused more on training new recruits than analysing Xavier’s powers.”

“The intel you’ve given us has been invaluable,” Buhle assured her.

“Good luck on your next mission,” Johnson added, settling back in his chair.

Moira nodded and left for the guesthouse. She packed her bags faster than she ever had before, checked out, and picked up her telegram. A flight number, an airport code, and an operation spec code. Her assignment: track an exceptional, considered potentially dangerous.

After a quick, convincing story about a sick relative, the manager kindly called her a cab. Before she knew it, she was back where she’d started the day before. With every mile put between her and Winchester, she felt a little lighter.

Her conversation with Johnson had sparked an unsettling thought. Had Charles seen her through Cerebro? It would explain how he knew she was at the mansion. Worse, it meant he might have been watching long before she regained her memories. The thought churned in her gut. He had seen her struggle, seen the consequences of his actions, and yet he had done nothing to fix it. He had let her suffer.

The seatbelt light dinged, pulling her from her thoughts. They were descending. A thrill cut through her sour mood as the plane touched down. This was it – her first solo mission.

Her first stop: the plaza, where the exceptional had last been seen.

The black suit she had chosen drew some attention, but no one questioned her as she examined the scorch marks along the building walls. Peggy had once told her that the right suit could get people to answer your questions but keep them from asking any in return.

The scene had clearly drawn plenty of onlookers. Trash littered the site, and even in the midday heat, people clustered in the shade, murmuring and pointing at the burns.

Moira moved closer. The scorch marks were concentrated between two buildings at the edge of the square. The plaster was badly damaged, the stone beneath it carved into by fire. A nearby bin had been reduced to a melted heap of metal. The flames had climbed high, easily reaching the second floor. If there had been any windows, she imagined they would have shattered from the heat.

Based on the blurry photos taken by a passing tourist – who had attempted to give them to the police, only to be redirected to a S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison – Moira was standing exactly where the exceptional had been. Fire generation? Electrical surge? Hard to tell. Local news had blamed lightning, but there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky.

She turned towards the building’s glass window, catching sight of her own reflection. A flash of light drew her attention. Keeping her back to it, she subtly watched the figure through the reflection. A man, late teens, Caucasian, blonde hair, sunglasses. Maybe a tourist.

Turning slightly, she swept her gaze over the buildings, letting her eyes skim over him. He was watching her. But his light hair didn’t match the dark silhouette from the photos. Law enforcement, perhaps?

S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t cleared her investigation with the Honduran government, and she wasn’t about to risk interference from another agency. She needed to stay low and find the exceptional before anyone else did.

Moving away from the buildings, she resolved to speak to the residents. If they had seen anything, they might be able to point her in the right direction. She chanced one last glance across the square.

The blonde teen was gone.

The buildings were apartments. Flashing her S.H.I.E.L.D. badge, she knocked on a few doors. Even if they didn’t recognise the agency, they’d likely see it as law enforcement and not ask too many questions.

Her Spanish wasn’t as strong as her Russian, but she managed. A frazzled woman in the first building confirmed the exceptional was a young man, no older than twenty-five. An older couple upstairs eagerly described how their TV had mysteriously broken when the fire started, hoping to get compensation. They were less helpful when it came to identifying the suspect.

“Do you think we’ll get our claim?” the man asked impatiently.

Moira resisted the urge to roll her eyes at their blatant attempt to milk the situation. Instead, she assured him the company would handle it and excused herself.

The building across the way was closed for refurbishment.

Tapping her foot against the pavement, she stopped when she realised she was still drawing attention.

If the exceptional was local, this might not have been his first incident. She decided to visit the local newspaper office to see if there were any similar reports. Getting directions, she found it was only a short walk away. Before she stepped inside, she spotted the blonde teen again.

Alarm bells rang in her head.

At the front desk, she asked for the editor or a reporter covering the recent fire. A portly, middle-aged man with limited English emerged, squeezing through the gate from the bullpen.

“You have information?” he asked, barely interested.

“No, I was hoping to check your archives. I wanted to see if there were any similar incidents.”

“You police?”

“No. American journalist. I was covering another story when I heard about the lightning strike. Thought it might be worth looking into.” She smiled, keeping her tone casual.

“It was no lightning.”

“Oh?” she asked, injecting just the right amount of curiosity into her voice.

“Don’t know what it was. Some say a boy did it.” Bingo.

“Then why report it as lightning?”

He shrugged lazily. “No one could find him. Can’t publish without proof.”

“Do you know what he looks like?”

“Everyone says something different. But some saw him running towards the beach.”

Moira nodded, considering her next move. Heading to the beach made sense, but sunglasses outside complicated things. If she led him to the exceptional, she could be putting the kid in danger.

The phone rang at the desk. The reporter hurried off to answer it. Moira unbuttoned her jacket, preparing to step back into the heat when he called out again.

“Hey, lady. Another fire just started.”

Her heart leapt. “Where?”

“Not far. Ten minutes. You coming?” He motioned to another reporter, who grabbed a camera and hurried over.

“Yes, thank you.”

He nodded, leading them out the back. Moira followed hastily, hardly believing her luck.

The car tore through the streets. She braced herself against the door as they screeched around a sharp corner. The moment they stopped, she jumped out, not waiting for them to park.

Fire crews battled the blaze. The flames were taller than before, licking at a nearby house. A second team cleared undergrowth around the buildings. The fire backed onto a dense tree line.

And there – just beyond the flames – a boy clung to a tree, panting heavily, sweat-soaked clothes with smoke curling from his back.

Before she even finished processing that last observation, Moira leapt off the wall, diving back into the thick crowd gathered to watch the fire with morbid fascination. She jostled her way through, careful to keep her pace brisk – running would only draw attention to herself and, more importantly, to the boy.

Still, as she broke from the crowd, he saw her and retreated further into the trees. She ran after him.

As the foliage closed around her, she risked calling out, sure no one else could hear.

“Please stop! I just want to help you!” She called, first in Spanish, then in English.

Branches snapped around her as she blundered forward, almost falling as she unexpectedly emerged into a clearing. He was there, panting heavily, staring down in frustration at his burning hands.

He looked up sharply as she approached. “Don't come any closer!” he warned, his English immaculate, his accent distinctly American.

“Okay,” Moira said softly, raising her hands slightly. “It’s okay, I just want to talk.”

“Why have you people been following me?” he asked, voice shaking.

She frowned, thinking of the blonde she had seen earlier. “There’s no one else. No one that I work with. I only got here this morning.”

His face clearly conveyed doubt. “Who are you? Who sent you?” he demanded, sweat pouring down his dark face. He looked exhausted, practically vibrating with tension.

Keeping her palms visible, Moira stuck to Peggy’s instructions. “My name is Moira MacTaggert,” she said calmly. “I work for an organisation called S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Never heard of it!” he yelled, taking another shaky step back.

“Most people haven’t. We’re an international organisation. If you just let me reach into my pocket, I can show you identification…”

“No!” he shouted, his hands flaring up.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured him.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head violently. “You want to study me!”

“That’s not true.” Moira paused. “Will you tell me your name?”

“Why?” His voice cracked. He looked on the verge of tears. “So you can tell the world about me? Warn them to keep away from the fire-starting freak?”

“I’m not going to do that,” she soothed. “It’s just you and me.” She glanced around the clearing and spotted a relatively flat rock. Moving slowly, she sat down. “I’m going to get my badge out now.”

His whole body shook as she reached into her pocket, pulled out her badge, and tossed it onto the ground between them. He peered forward cautiously.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret organisation. We work with people who have powers – people like you. We were formed after the death of a man known as Captain America. He had powers too – an experiment gave them to him during the Second World War.” Moira spoke calmly, as if they were discussing this over coffee rather than in a forest clearing, while she risked being burned alive. “I’ll answer any questions you have until you understand I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to help. Please, just tell me your name.”

The boy took a shaky breath and lowered his hands slightly. “Dante. Dante Pertuz.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dante,” Moira said, offering a small smile.

The flames in his hands dimmed.

“This Captain America… what happened to him?”

“He died,” Moira said simply. “Gave up his life to save a lot of people. He was a hero.”

Dante nodded. “And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with me?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. keeps track of powered individuals and helps them stay safe. There are people out there who would exploit people like you – try to duplicate your abilities or force you to do things you don’t want to. S.H.I.E.L.D. works to protect you, to put you in touch with others like you. We train people who need help controlling their abilities. And if they want to, they can join us. But it’s always their choice. Even if you don’t want to work with us, we’ll still help you. Find you a safe place to live. And you can contact us anytime if you need help or feel like you’re in danger. We’ll be right there to help keep you safe.”

Moira paused, giving him time to process. “Can I ask you something?”

Dante looked up. He had been staring at his hands, which were now barely smouldering. “What?”

“How did you get your powers? Have you had them long?”

He shook his head. “Only about a month. I couldn’t…” He hesitated. “I came here.”

“You have family here?”

“No. I just had to get away. It wasn’t safe. My powers. They’re not safe.”

“How did you get here?”

“On foot.”

Moira raised a brow. “That sounds dangerous.”

“I’m stronger now. Faster. I don’t get tired much.”

“And you can generate fire.”

“Not just my hands,” Dante murmured. He looked impossibly young as exhaustion weighed on his features. “It’s not just fire. Do you want to see?”

Before Moira could answer, he shrugged off his bag and kicked off his shoes.

She nearly fell off her perch as he erupted into a figure of fire and rock, towering at least a foot taller than before. His eyes blazed orange, flames licking at the air around him. His black hair had disappeared into molten rock, his skin glowing crimson with heat. When he moved, fire trailed in his wake – Dante was a walking inferno.

“Wow.” Moira exhaled, taking in the sight. She had seen powered individuals before, but the incredulity never faded. Standing, she moved closer but had to stop as the heat intensified.

Abruptly, he collapsed back into human form. His clothes were scorched, his body shaking violently. Before he hit the ground, Moira caught him, easing him onto a patch of ferns.

She folded her jacket and placed it under his head. They needed somewhere safe, somewhere secluded where he could rest and learn to control himself.

“I’m going to find us somewhere to stay,” she said as his eyelids drooped.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Few days ago,” he mumbled.

“And in a bed?”

A weak smile. “About a month ago.”

“I passed a phone booth earlier. I’m going to call a friend. Will you be okay here?”

Dante struggled to push himself up. “I’d rather go with you.”

“Can you?” Moira steadied him as he wobbled.

“Yeah.”

“And can you stay cool?”

He gave a half-hearted smile. “Don’t think I’ve got the energy to do that again anytime soon.”

“Good. Let’s get you some food and a place to rest.”

As they made their way through the dimly lit streets, the weight of the day pressed heavily on Moira’s shoulders. Dante walked beside her, his movements sluggish with exhaustion. He had barely spoken since they left the clearing, and she could see the toll his transformations had taken on him. The boy needed rest – proper rest – and somewhere safe to recover.

They passed shuttered market stalls and the occasional murmured conversation from doorways, but the streets were mostly empty at this late hour. Moira kept an eye out for any lingering figures, her instincts sharp despite her own fatigue. Dante was trying to keep his head down, but even in the flickering glow of the streetlights, his unease was evident.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

Danta hesitated before answering. “I just don’t know where I go from here.”

“You don’t have to figure that out tonight,” she reassured him. “First thing is getting you somewhere safe. One step at a time.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the phone booth. Moira picked up the receiver and dialled.

“Stark.”

“Howard, it’s Agent 24. I need a favour.”

A beat of silence, then an unmistakable grin in Howard’s voice when he replied, “Moira! You wound me. You only ever call when you need something. How’s Peg?”

Moira glanced behind her. Dante was leaning against the booth, his bag slung limply over one shoulder. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“She’s not here right now. I’m on assignment.”

“Oh yeah? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Not exactly. But I need to get an exceptional off the street and somewhere quiet.”

That got his attention. “Where are you?”

“Honduras – Tegucigalpa. We need a place to lie low. Can’t risk putting him on a plane yet.” She glanced at Dante again, lowering her voice. “He’s still figuring things out. I need somewhere safe, away from people.”

Howard hummed, likely already jotting something down. “Your exceptional doesn’t have his powers under control yet, huh?”

“Not exactly. Unless spontaneous combustion counts.”

“Ah. One of those,” Howard said, intrigued rather than concerned. “I don’t have anything in Honduras, but if you can get to the coast, I can send a boat. Get you both out of there, no fuss.”

A boat. Water. That was significantly better than a pressurised metal tube at 35,000 feet. “That works. Where?”

“I’ve got a yacht moored in Jamaica. Maria likes the tropical weather, so I bought her a villa there.”

Of course he did. “There’s a port to the north, Puerto de Caballos...”

“Perfect. I’ll have my guy meet you there. You got a car?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got enough cash on me to find something.”

Howard chuckled. “You, driving something cheap? Now that I’d like to see. Maybe I’ll fly out, meet you myself. Been a while since I worked with an exceptional – could be fun.”

Moira huffed a laugh. “You just want an excuse to get in Peggy’s good books, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Dante shifted his weight, eyeing her curiously. He could only hear her side of the conversation, but he must have caught on to the familiar ease in her voice.

“Thanks, Howard,” she said sincerely. “Really.”

“Anytime, Agent 24. Now get moving. You’re burning minutes, and your boy there sounds flammable.”

Moira hung up and turned to Dante. “We’ve got a ride. We just need to get to the coast first.”

“Who was that?” he asked, frowning.

“Howard Stark.” At his blank look, she clarified, “Genius, inventor, occasional pain in the ass. You’ll like him.”

Dante let out a breath. “And he’s helping us?”

“That’s what he does. Just… be prepared for a lot of questions.”

With that, she left him at the booth and set off to find transport.

It was going to be a long night. And an even longer journey.

One rundown jeep and an exhausting trek later, they finally reached the docks. Dante had slept fitfully in the backseat most of the way, waking in sporadic bursts to ask if they were nearly there before dozing off again. When they pulled up at the port, the sleek yacht waiting at the water’s edge made him pause.

“That’s our ride?” he asked incredulously.

“You sound surprised.”

“I don’t know what I expected, but this… this is kind of ridiculous.”

Moira smirked. “Welcome to Stark Industries.”

Howard was already waiting at the gangway, shirt unbuttoned, sunglasses perched on his nose despite the pre-dawn hour. He took one look at Dante, then at Moira, then grinned.

“Ah, so this is our firestarter. Inferno, was it?”

Dante glanced at Moira, bewildered. “I never told him that.”

“He probably made it up.”

Howard slung an arm around Dante’s shoulders before he could react, leading him toward the yacht. “We’re gonna get along just fine, kid. Like a house on fire, if you’ll pardon the expression. Now tell me – do you explode or just simmer?”

Moira pinched the bridge of her nose.

This was going to be a disaster.

Chapter Text

And there went another piece of furniture. This time it was the couch Dante had been sitting on. He had been watching television when Howard decided to spring out of nowhere – ostensibly in the name of science – startling him into his other form.

Thankfully, Moira, who after nine days was getting rather used to these incidents, had started keeping an extinguisher within reach at all times. She calmly set her book down, picked up the extinguisher, and doused the flames.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry,” Dante groaned, wiping foam out of his eyes. “I’ll replace the couch. I’ll replace everything.”

Howard, also clearing foam from his face, smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll just write it off as a business expense. That’s what we did with the boat.”

The boat, as Howard so offhandedly referred to his luxury yacht, had dropped them off at the end of his private jetty, leading directly to his seafront villa. He had only just arrived himself before they docked. Fortunately, Dante had slept heavily throughout the drive and, after briefly waking to gawk at the yacht, passed right back out for the final leg. Unfortunately, Howard found Dante’s transformation absolutely fascinating and went out of his way to trigger it at every opportunity.

Still, they were making progress. The morning after their arrival, Dante, fully rested and well-fed, was willing to talk about how he had ended up in Honduras, leaving a trail of scorched buildings behind him.

“I was at a diner with my mom,” he explained, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back into his chair. They were sitting on the balcony where they’d had breakfast, looking out at the ocean. “Everything was normal, then there was this big white cloud – like smoke. It filled the whole diner. The alarm went off, but as soon as it spread, it disappeared. Then things got worse. I looked at my hands, and they were turning to stone. I couldn’t stop it.”

His hands clenched at the memory. “I called for help, but it was happening to everyone. It spread over their faces, and when it did, everything went dark. Then I must’ve passed out. Next thing I knew, the stone was flying off me, and I looked like – well, you’ve seen.” He nodded towards Moira. “I was huge. And on fire. I ran outside, tried rolling on the ground, but it didn’t hurt. Just felt really hot. Then, almost as soon as it started, I turned back to normal, but I was weak. I went back inside, but it was chaos. I couldn’t see my mum, and I started heating up again, so I ran back outside in case it happened again. Then the cops started showing up, and I just ran home.”

“You didn’t see anyone else back in the diner?”

Dante shook his head. “There was debris everywhere, lots of dust. I think I heard someone groaning, but I’m not sure. I didn’t even know what had happened until I got home. I passed out as soon as I got through the door. The next morning, the news said there’d been a gas leak that killed people… including my mum.” His voice thickened. “I transformed again not long after and nearly burned the house down. I panicked. I was terrified of what people would do if they saw me like that. And when I saw the cops coming towards the house, I ran. I think they were probably just coming to tell me about my mum but I was too scared.”

His voice dropped. “When I started running, I realised it wasn’t just the fire. I was faster, stronger. I broke through a stone wall when I needed to get past a border. And I had more energy. But I think using my powers drains me.”

Howard was furiously jotting everything down, and after Moira promised to look into the diner incident, he began compiling a list of questions. Nine days later, he still hadn’t finished asking them. After taking a blood sample, Howard found that Dante’s DNA had drastically changed from that of a normal human. Further tests led him to suspect Dante might have limited regenerative abilities.

“I’m not sure if you could survive an A-bomb, but I’m pretty confident that if I chopped your hand off, it’d grow back,” Howard mused.

Dante instantly pulled his hands behind his back. “I think I’m fine not knowing for sure,” he muttered, making Moira laugh.

Despite Howard’s relentless curiosity, Dante had quickly warmed to him. Outside of his powers, he was a laid-back young man, and the two had developed an easy friendship. Howard even gave him a superhero name: Inferno. Dante had eagerly asked Moira if he could use it as his official code name when he became a proper S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – a future he had already decided on after Howard regaled them both with stories of Captain America and other powered operatives like Rapture.

Howard had also taken it upon himself to design an “exercise programme” under the pretence of preparing Dante for training. In reality, it was just another excuse to study him, constantly searching for new triggers for his transformation.

“Wait till I get Jason to look at this data,” Howard had said gleefully after one of their training sessions. “He’ll lose his mind. And look.” He pointed to a sharp spike in the chart he was holding. “His adrenaline levels shot up, but he stayed human.”

“So?” Moira asked, unimpressed.

“So, Moira,” Howard said, all smug affection, “it means his transformation isn’t physical. It’s emotional. And if it’s emotional, it means he can learn to control it.”

He grinned, showing Dante the chart to share the good news.

Howard’s latest experiment involved triggering different emotional responses, with fear and anger proving to be the most effective.

After his latest scare, Dante retreated to his room to clean up, while Howard hastened downstairs to his converted wine cellar laboratory, leaving Moira to clean up the mess.

Gathering the remains of the couch in her arms, she headed outside to the overflowing trash cans. As she balanced the broken pieces atop each other, a crack of blue light flickered at the edge of her vision. She turned sharply.

Nothing there.

Frowning, she made her way back inside, locking the door behind her.

Heading up to her room, Moira took a seat on her bed to toe off her shoes. It didn’t take more than a moment of hesitation before she let herself fall back on the mattress with a sigh.

This mission had been one of the strangest she’d ever worked. Not because of the exceptional, S.H.I.E.L.D. had introduced her to plenty of those, but because of Stark. He was exhausting, endlessly fascinated by Dante’s abilities, constantly taking notes, and yet strangely endearing in the way he looked out for the young man.

Dante, for his part, had started to trust them both, though Moira could tell it had taken him time. He warmed to Howard faster, mostly because the inventor treated him like an equal – teasing, joking, and quick to lavish him with his private luxuries. But it was Moira he confided in when he struggled to sleep at night, haunted by memories of the diner, of his mother, of the fear that he’d never have a normal life again.

“You don’t have to do this,” he had admitted one night when she found him staring out at the ocean, unable to rest. “I mean, I know S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to help me, but you – it’s not safe to be near me.”

Moira had folded her arms, leaning against the railing beside him. “You didn’t ask for any of this, Dante. You deserve to have people looking out for you.”

He had nodded, eyes fixed on the waves. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t found me.”

“You would’ve figured something out,” she said with a small smile. “You’re tougher than you think.”

The days on the island had settled into an easy, if unconventional, rhythm. Mornings were spent with Dante, training to keep his powers in check. Afternoons were dedicated to Howard’s experiments – half of which Moira suspected were just excuses for the man to tinker with his latest inventions. Evenings, when the heat softened and the ocean breeze picked up, were often the quietest. It was then that she and Dante would sit on the balcony, not always talking, but comfortable in the silence.

It had been years since she had felt anything close to domesticity, and Moira wasn’t foolish enough to mistake this for permanence. Soon, S.H.I.E.L.D. would want a full report. Soon, Dante would have to make a decision about his future. Soon, Howard would get restless and find another project to throw himself into.

And soon, Moira would be assigned somewhere else, to some other mission, for some other exceptional.

She closed her eyes against the thought, letting the evening air cool her skin. For now, they were here. That was enough.

But then the moment was gone.

Sitting up, she rubbed her face and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The work never really stopped, and she had a message system for a reason.

Howard had set up a phoneline for her. Moira decided instead to check her home answering machine first. S.H.I.E.L.D. had arranged a system for her to receive messages while away, but after a fortnight on assignment, not a single one had come through. A poor reflection on her social life but then, being an agent – at the CIA or S.H.I.E.L.D – meant never being home for dinner.

“Hold. One message pending.”

“Moira,” Alex said, sounding unusually anxious. “Look, I don’t know if you’re anywhere near here, but the Professor, he’s... well, things are getting a little weird around here. I really think he’d listen to you. Or, well, he could use your help. I could use your help. Whether that’s you or S.H.I.E.L.D., I don’t care. Could you just please come back?” He left a number before muttering something indistinct and hanging up.

Moira replayed the message, scribbling down the number as she reached for the phone. Before she could dial, a guttural yell echoed down the hall.

Seizing another extinguisher from the stash at the foot of her bed, she sprinted towards Dante’s room.

Blue light flickered beneath the door.

Easing it open, she found Inferno – mercifully standing away from any soft furnishings – facing the blonde stranger she had first seen in Honduras. He wore large black sunglasses that dominated his face and looked even younger than Dante.

“You,” Moira said simply, contemplating whether to draw her weapon.

“Me,” he replied dryly, returning his focus to Dante. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his posture deceptively relaxed. “Dante. We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Gordon.”

Dante glanced at Moira. “He’s like me, he can teleport or something.”

“Who are you?” Moira asked, edging closer to Dante.

“I’m the kind of person you think needs protecting,” Gordon sneered. In a sudden burst of blue light, he disappeared, only to reappear beside the balcony door. He looked at her with disdain, much like Erik once had, waiting for the inevitable fear or hostility.

Sweat beaded on her brow as Dante’s flames grew, but she held her ground.

“Dante,” Gordon said, breaking his stare to focus on him. “We should have met a month ago, after your transformation. You must’ve already left the diner when we started evacuating people. We lost you in the confusion when the humans showed up.”

“You know what happened that day?” Dante rumbled, his voice deeper than usual.

“Yes,” Gordon admitted, his glance at Moira making it clear he didn’t want her to hear what he was about to say. “An Inhuman released a Terrigen Crystal in the diner. When it breaks, it releases a mist that triggers something called Terrigenesis. It activates a dormant gene in your DNA.”

“Inhuman?” Dante asked.

“That’s what we call ourselves. One of our own stole a crystal and turned people without permission. She caused three other incidents, producing more Inhumans than we usually deal with. I’m sure your friend here is aware of them.” He nodded towards Moira.

Moira kept her expression blank. Undoubtedly, this was classified far above her clearance level.

“Why didn’t my mom change?” Dante asked, his flames surging, forcing Moira to step back.

“Everyone went through the metamorphosis, but only those with the gene survive. Normally, we guide people through the process. After those incidents, we collected as many as we could to help them understand, to support them. Unfortunately, we found you too late.” Gordon took half a step forward. “Come with me, Dante. I’ll take you to our community. You’ll finally get the answers you’ve been searching for. You’ll be with people like you.”

Gordon extended his hand.

Dante hesitated, his flames dimming as he shrank back to his usual size. He turned to Moira. “What about Moira?”

“Oh, she’s coming too.” Gordon sighed.

“What?” Moira started, but before she could react, Gordon grabbed Dante and vanished in a burst of blue light, blinding her.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway.

“Howard!” she cried out, reaching for her gun. But before she could draw it, Gordon flashed back, wrapped his arms around her torso, and the two disappeared.

Chapter Text

The room they landed in was large, ornate and dim as Moira stumbled into it. Gordon had already zapped away before she could even process his arms releasing her, the crack of blue briefly illuminating her surroundings. Hurrying over to where she had seen closed shutters, Moira fumbled until she was able to open them – desperate for a sense of orientation.

She only spotted buildings, the air outside the room stiflingly hot, the sky a clear watery blue. Putting her bare foot on the open frame, her shoes abandoned at the villa, Moira prepared to climb out when she was stopped by a loud groan next door.

“Dante?” She called out, carefully easing open the door to find a smoke-filled room with Dante panting at the centre of it. One of his shutters was already open, the wood marked where his hands had burned slightly into the pane. “Dante, stay calm.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t get too close. Not until Dante has had a moment to cool off.”

Eyes quickly searching the hazy room, Moira came to focus on a woman standing stock-still by another door. Her hands were folded over her stomach, looking perfectly calm despite the transforming young man in front of her.

“Hello.” She said softly. “You must be Moira. My name is Jiaying.”

Moira’s hand moved slowly to her hip, her eyes intent on Jiaying’s scarred face.

Her gun was gone.

“I told Gordon not to disarm you but I find he often worries needlessly about my safety.” She said simply, moving away from the door toward the open window and fully pushing open the other shutter.

Turning back, Jiaying motioned to another smaller woman who had been hovering by the door. They seemed to share some information quietly between themselves, Jiaying’s eyes widening fractionally as if surprised before she waved her off.

Jiaying moved to stand near Dante, hands still gently folded. She looked up at the man whose skin was turning to rock as if she were looking at nothing more unusual than a bird sitting in a tree.

“Dante.” She said. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. I want to apologise for bringing you here under such unfortunate circumstances. I assure you our community does not usually snatch people,” Jiaying said, looking between the pair, “but we take privacy very seriously within our community. Your organisation, Moira, was getting uncomfortably close to revealing something we strive to keep secret.”

“You’re in charge here?” Moira asked, staying rooted to her spot by the door, legs positioned in a defensive stance. She assessed Jiaying critically. The slender woman looked to be in good shape but if she were any ordinary human Moira would have liked her chances in a hand-to-hand fight. Of course, things were never that simple and she knew that Jiaying in all likelihood had some sort of power. She just needed to figure out what it was before getting herself and Dante drawn into an unwinnable fight.

Jiaying moved to stand between the two, addressing them both. The contrast between her and Gordon was stark. “One of the community elders, yes. Although I promise you what has happened in these last few months is far from normal. Where we are now – Afterlife – is a haven for Inhumans. I am sure, as Dante will now know, that many humans are unaware that there are people among them who have gifts that stretch far beyond the ordinary. When confronted by this fact they can sometimes act with hostility or suspicion. That is why we go to such great lengths to keep our existence hidden, and to provide a safe space for those like us. Afterlife is not a permanent residence for most, we mainly provide shelter and training for people who have recently gone through the transformation. Or guidance for people who will go through it...”

Moira interrupted. “Gordon said not everyone survives the transformation.”

“That is true. But we have ways of determining whether an individual has the potential to become Inhuman.” Jiaying said. “Some are brought here if we feel they are ready to take on their abilities. We guide them through what will happen, and help them adjust to their new lives.”

“Why did this happen to me?” Dante grunted, smoke still rising in thick plumes.

“The woman who triggered your transformation dropped something we call a Terrigen crystal. The crystal releases a cloud of smoke which activates a process called Terrigenesis.” Jiaying explained patiently. “The process activates dormant alien cells in your body – cells which only a small percentage of the population possess. Each Inhuman is affected differently, though each demonstrates speed, strength and durability above the normal levels of even the fittest human being.”

“I’m an alien?” Dante asked, his body starting to shake with exertion as the smoke thinned out.

“At your basic level, you are human. But Terrigenesis enhances your DNA, changing it radically. That’s why we call ourselves Inhuman. Born human, made into something more advanced.” Jiaying clarified with a wry smile. “Of course, within our community, we do not promote ideas of superiority above humanity, though I admit not all Inhumans feel that way.” She kindly told Moira.

“So there are people within your community who are still human – waiting to go through Terrigenesis?” Moira asked.

“Yes, we have an Inhuman who can detect whether a person possesses the dormant gene. Of course, we would never risk someone to the mists if we did not know for sure that they would survive. Our community stores most of the world’s Terrigen crystals, though we are aware there are more out there. The incident that led to Dante’s transformation was the first time in our history a crystal has been taken from us, and we regret that we were not made aware of its theft until it was already too late.”

Dante’s transformation was halting and even Moira was loath to admit she was starting to believe the sincerity in Jiaying’s words.

“You have the person responsible?” She asked.

Jiaying shook her head. “No, Gordon was only able to bring back two survivors of the mists.”

Jiaying continued, her words carefully measured. “I am aware that your organisation deals with, and sometimes contains, powered individuals. But you must understand my trepidation in allowing an Inhuman into your hands. We have all risked a great deal to keep our existence a secret and to ensure the sanctity that Afterlife can offer our kind. As someone who has endured the actions of those less tolerant than yourself, I cannot force anyone else to submit to such a thing. No matter what they have done.”

“You’ve been taken before?” Moira asked. “Do you know by who?”

“An organisation named Hydra,” Jiaying replied, picking up the flicker of recognition on Moira’s face.

“Hydra hasn’t been in existence since the Second World War,” Moira argued. “There’s no way you’re a day over thirty.”

Jiaying smiled broadly. “That’s certainly nice to hear; however, I cannot pretend it is so. My ability enables me to heal myself and also causes me to age far slower than your average human.”

“Woah.” Dante breathed. “So how old are you?”

Jiaying’s smile grew to dazzling extremes. “I think you know it is a woman’s prerogative to refuse to answer such a question. It has been rather a while, though. I must admit there have been times when such a thing is considered more of a curse than a blessing, but one cannot undo the process of Terrigenesis.”

“So you can’t change what happened to me?” Dante asked quietly.

“No, but that is no bad thing.” She replied gently. “With some practice, there is no reason that you couldn’t become an active member of society again and lead a perfectly normal life. We can help you to understand your powers, to control them. But, given your first interaction with a member of our community, I could understand any trepidation you may have, and if you wish to leave, you can. Both of you can.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has already been helping me,” Dante said, sounding more confident as he straightened back up, his energy slowly returning now he had fully returned to his human form.

“And if you choose, you can return to them and accept their guidance in controlling your abilities. I am sure S.H.I.E.L.D. has a great deal of experience working with powered individuals such as us; however, when it comes to knowledge about Inhumans, you will find no one as knowledgeable as the medical staff at Afterlife.

“Now, I understand you have a lot to think about, but might I suggest that you meet with one of our transition guides for a short while? He will be able to answer your questions and run some checks on you to see how your body is handling the transition. And it will allow Moira and me to talk about S.H.I.E.L.D.”

A man entered the room, who had probably been waiting for Jiaying’s words.

Dante looked to Moira a little nervously but went along with the man, who introduced himself as Lui, while Jiaying led Moira outside.

The sun was low in the sky. All Moira could see were buildings and beyond the mountains that stretched for miles.

“It’s a beautiful community you have here.”

“Thank you, although I can hardly take credit for it,” Jiaying said as they wandered through their surroundings. “I’ve always found it a very peaceful place to live in.”

She led Moira into her own building, which housed her quarters and an office. Taking a seat behind her desk, she gestured to the armchairs before her.

“Please sit. I imagine you’ve been on your feet for some time.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Moira asked as she lowered herself into a chair. “You must know S.H.I.E.L.D is already aware of Dante – we’ve already had one of our lead scientists meet with him.”

“We are.” Jiaying nodded. “After Gordon saw you investigating the fire, I asked him to keep an eye on you, to see what you would do and to try and find out more about the agency you work with. I was cautious; I knew you had to work with some kind of organisation, but I had no idea which one or how you would react to Dante if you finally caught up with him. Gordon thought he would be able to find Dante first but,” Jiaying smiled slyly, “you worked faster than expected. Your agency must be proud to have such an agent.”

“Have you heard of S.H.I.E.L.D before?” Moira asked, bringing up in her mind the monologue Peggy had her memorise when talking to new Exceptionals. She faltered entirely when Jiaying replied that she had.

“Yes.”

Jiaying studied her carefully before continuing. “You are free to leave whenever you want,” Jiaying said. “But I would ask that you stay for a while, see Afterlife for yourself, meet our people. It will give Dante a chance to be guided through the changes to his body, to recover from the great changes made to his DNA. And it will also give you the chance to consider a proposal I have for you.”

Cautious, Moira leaned forward in her chair slightly. “What proposal?”

Afterlife was unlike anywhere Moira had ever been. Hidden deep in the wilderness, it was a sanctuary carved into the mountains, so well-integrated into its surroundings that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d never know it was there. The settlement was a striking blend of tradition and secrecy, its Asian-influenced architecture standing in quiet defiance against the modern world. Torii gates marked its entrance, their weathered wood arching over stone pathways that wove through the village like veins, connecting its heart to every corner. The buildings, reminiscent of ancient Chinese temples, bore curved rooftops and intricate latticework, their wooden panels worn by wind and time. Lanterns flickered softly against the encroaching dusk, casting warm pools of golden light across the cobbled walkways.

This place wasn’t just hidden; it was preserved – frozen in its own carefully created moment, untouched by the chaos of the outside world. It wasn’t a fortress, but it didn’t need to be. The mountains surrounding Afterlife were barrier enough, their towering peaks keeping the settlement safe from the eyes of those who would never understand it. Moira could see why Jiaying spoke of it with such reverence. If she were in her position, she’d do whatever it took to protect it too.

She was still contemplating that thought when Jiaying found her again the next morning.

“I was curious,” Jiaying began, studying Moira with quiet interest, “whether you had encountered any mutants before.”

Moira frowned. “You know about them?”

Jiaying nodded. “Inhumans have been around for a long time – so have mutants. Naturally, we have learned of each other’s existence. However, I find mutants do not have as strong a community as we do. While some individuals may be aware of Inhumans, the collective is not.”

“Have you ever had mutants here before?”

“Once or twice.”

Moira slumped back in her chair, absorbing that information. It seemed that every time she thought she had a handle on the world, something came along to shift her perception again. She had believed there were humans, mutants and exceptions – those who had altered themselves through science or technology. Now she had to account for an entirely separate community, one whose DNA was rooted off-planet.

How many more groups were out there? And how many did S.H.I.E.L.D. already know about?

“If you don’t mind my asking, how do you differ from mutants?” Moira asked, curiosity edging into her voice.

“We’ve learned that mutants are born with their abilities. Inhumans only acquire theirs by going through Terrigenesis. While individual Inhumans and mutants develop unique powers, Inhumans also share collective enhancements. We tend to have stronger bodies – some mutants do, but not all. And we live much longer than the average human or mutant.” Jiaying studied Moira as she spoke, as if measuring how much to reveal. “I’ve encountered Inhumans who have lived for nearly 150 years, even when their specific abilities had no impact on extending life – such as mine.”

Moira nodded slowly, turning that over in her mind.

Jiaying let the silence settle for a moment before continuing. “This mutant, or mutants, that you encountered. Did they trust you?”

“A few. Some didn’t.” Moira said, trying to keep any lingering sense of displeasure from her tone.

“But they trusted you enough to make you privy to their powers?” Jiaying pressed. “To work with someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Ah. “Actually, I didn’t work with S.H.I.E.L.D at the time – I was an agent with the CIA.”

“So S.H.I.E.L.D. don’t know of their existence yet?”

“They do. They did, before I joined. There was an incident which exposed several mutants, making global agencies aware of their existence. However, we have only recently reached out to their community.”

“I see,” Jiaying said. Stepping forward, she sat on a bench and gestured that Moira should follow. Only when she was sat beside her did Jiaying continue.

“If Afterlife is to trust someone with knowledge of our people, I want it to be Dante,” she said, her voice steady, measured. “I want it to be a fellow Inhuman. If he chooses to follow through with his plan to remain with S.H.I.E.L.D., as Gordon believes he intends to, then he will understand what’s at stake. He’s new here, yes. He feels no particular loyalty to our community. But if our existence is exposed – if Afterlife is put at risk – then the consequences would fall on his own kind. That, I believe, would make him think twice.”

Moira folded her arms. “And if Dante chooses to stay here instead?”

“That is a possibility.”

“It would take time for him to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – if he’s even accepted.”

“He would be.” Jiaying sounded confident, as though she had already weighed the odds and found them in Dante’s favour.

Moira frowned. “We would only notify the board.” She wasn’t entirely sure where Jiaying was going with this.

“I offer people choices, Moira,” Jiaying said gently. “Dante can stay, and I understand that you would have to inform your superiors. If that puts Afterlife at risk, we will defend it.”

Moira opened her mouth, but Jiaying continued before she could interject.

“If S.H.I.E.L.D. proves itself trustworthy, I still want to keep contact limited to one person. To minimise risk. If not Dante, then you.”

“Of course, I…” Moira hesitated, caught off guard by the certainty in Jiaying’s tone.

“I know.” Jiaying studied her. “But whether it is you or Dante – that is not the choice I am offering you.”

Moira’s brow furrowed. “Then what are you offering me?”

Jiaying’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “That if we work with S.H.I.E.L.D, you join us.”

Moira straightened. “Join you? I don’t understand.”

Jiaying tilted her head slightly as if considering how best to phrase it. Then, simply, she said:

“By becoming an Inhuman.”

Moira sat frozen, Jiaying’s words rattling around her head as she tried to process the offer – or was it a challenge?

“By becoming an Inhuman.” She repeated.

It was so simple the way she said it, like a choice Moira could make as easily as picking a new career or switching apartments. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Jiaying studied her closely. “I understand this is a surprise. I myself was surprised when I had Fatima assess you. Gordon brought her to Jamaica before he collected you and Dante. She can sense other Inhumans – and humans who possess the dormant gene. Such a small percentage of people have it, so you can imagine my shock when Dante was accompanied by someone else with the genetic potential.”

Moira’s breath caught. “You’re saying… I have the gene?”

Jiaying inclined her head. “You do.”

Moira shook her head, struggling to find the words. “But I,” She hesitated, her mind racing. If she had the gene, did that mean she could have had powers this whole time? Could she have been different? Stronger? Would Charles have looked at her differently? Would she have been treated as an equal instead of just a useful ally?

Jiaying raised a hand, cutting through her spiralling thoughts. “Please. I understand this is a difficult position to be put in. We don’t know what your ability would be. If it could be physical, like Gordon’s, which has all kinds of ramifications. And agreeing to such a bodily change… well, you can imagine how I felt when the people at that diner were forced through it with no preparation. Still, I would ask that you consider it. I hate to see potential wasted.”

Moira exhaled sharply, her fists clenched on her lap. “You’re telling me I’m not human?”

“No,” Jiaying corrected gently. “You are human. Now. But…” She reached into a drawer, her movements smooth and deliberate. When she withdrew her hand, a blue crystal rested on her palm, its surface glowing subtly in the daylight filtering through the window.

Moira’s entire body went still. The glow was hypnotic, pulling her in, and before she even realised it, her hand was reaching for it.

Jiaying moved first, placing her own hand over the crystal. “Not yet.”

Moira blinked, pulling back as though waking from a trance. Her heart pounded. “Sorry,” she breathed, shaken by the sheer intensity of the pull.

“Oh, it’s quite natural.” Jiaying’s lips curled slightly. “I’ve found predisposed individuals instinctively want to touch the crystal. It seems we have an innate drive to initiate the transformation. The few who have undergone Terrigenesis outside of Afterlife all stumbled across crystals of their own… and none of them hesitated to reach out.”

“There are more of these out there?” Moira asked, her voice steadier now.

“Yes. We control most of them, but some remain scattered. There are only a few unaccounted for, and since there have been no unintentional transformations in decades, we assume they are beyond human reach.” Jiaying studied her carefully. “But you… you seem particularly drawn to it.”

Moira swallowed, unable to deny the truth in that.

Jiaying watched her for a moment longer, then, as though sensing Moira needed space, she carefully placed the crystal back in the drawer. The moment the glow disappeared, the air in the room shifted, and Moira felt as though she could think clearly again.

Jiaying stood. “Why don’t we go check on Dante? Lui should have had enough time to answer his questions.”

Moira nodded, standing as well, but the weight in her chest remained.

The knowledge that something inside her – something fundamental – wasn’t what she thought it was.

Chapter Text

The morning they were set to leave, Afterlife was quieter than usual. Word had spread that Dante was going, and while no one stopped him, there was an unspoken weight in the air. Some watched from a distance, lingering in the doorways of their homes. Others approached him directly, offering quiet words of encouragement or brief, reassuring handshakes.

Dante, to his credit, handled it well. He had spent the last several days working with their healers, learning how to control his abilities with a level of precision he hadn’t thought possible. Lui had been patient, teaching him the basics of regulating his temperature, recognising the early signs of transformation, and, most importantly, understanding that his power did not have to define him.

But Dante had still made his choice.

Moira stood off to the side, letting him have his moment. He had become comfortable here, more at ease than she’d seen him since their first meeting, but when they’d spoken the night before, his mind had already been made up.

“I don’t belong here,” he had admitted, glancing at the mountains in the distance. “I mean, I get why some of them stay. But I wasn’t meant to hide. You and Stark – you didn’t just want to study me. You actually gave a damn.”

“You sure about this?” she had asked.

Dante had nodded. “Yeah. I want to go back with you.”

So, now, as the final goodbyes were exchanged, Moira found herself standing near the edge of the courtyard, arms folded, observing the quiet farewells.

“You’ve done well with him,” Jiaying’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Moira turned to find the leader watching her, hands clasped in front of her. There was no accusation in her tone, only quiet observation.

“He made the choice himself,” Moira said.

“Yes,” Jiaying agreed. “Which is why I’d like to speak with you before you go.”

Moira hesitated, glancing back at Dante, who was shaking hands with one of the elders. He’d be fine for a few minutes.

“Alright,” she said, following Jiaying toward her office.

The wooden door shut behind them with a soft click.

Moira stood at the edge of Jiaying’s office, arms folded, trying to ignore the weight of Jiaying’s gaze as the leader placed a small square of cloth on the desk between them.

Beneath it, Moira already knew what lay hidden.

“I told you before,” Jiaying said, her voice soft but unyielding. “I believe in choice.”

Moira exhaled through her nose. “And yet, you still put it in my hands.”

Jiaying lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Would you have taken it from me otherwise?”

Silence.

Jiaying smiled like she had expected as much. “You’re a pragmatist, Moira. You weigh the risks. You look at all the angles before you act. That’s why I trust you with this.”

Moira eyed the bundle warily. “You trust me, or you want to test me?”

Jiaying tilted her head. “A little of both. It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? To learn that something inside you – something you never even considered – could make you more than you are now.”

Moira’s jaw tensed. “I’m not looking to be ‘more’ than I am.”

“No?” Jiaying’s voice was gentle, but knowing. “Tell me, then. Would you be holding yourself back if you weren’t afraid of what you might become?”

Moira clenched her fists. “You don’t know me.”

“I know people.” Jiaying’s expression softened. “I know what it is to stand on the edge of something vast and terrifying and to wonder if stepping forward is worth the risk. I also know that if I had been given the choice before my transformation, if someone had let me decide for myself rather than having it thrust upon me, I would have wanted time to consider what that meant.”

She slid the wrapped crystal forward.

“That’s what I’m giving you now. Time.”

Moira stared at it but didn’t move.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jiaying assured her. “You don’t even have to tell anyone you have it. But one day, if you ever decide you want to understand what’s inside you – who you might become – then you’ll have that choice. And no one else will be able to make it for you.”

Moira finally reached for the cloth, fingers closing around the edges carefully, deliberately avoiding any contact with the stone inside. It felt heavier than it should have.

Jiaying’s voice was quiet but certain. “If nothing else, consider this: you work with people who will always be stronger, faster, more powerful than you. But you, Moira MacTaggert, are not just anyone. You could be one of us.”

Moira swallowed. “I already made my choice, Jiaying.”

“Maybe.” Jiaying leaned back. “But now you have another one.”

And Moira, despite every instinct telling her to leave the crystal behind, carefully tucked it into her pocket as Gordon arrived to take her home.

Moira stepped outside, the weight of the crystal pressing against her thigh through the fabric of her pocket. The cool morning air of Afterlife was crisp against her skin, but it did little to quiet the thoughts racing through her mind.

She found Dante standing near the central courtyard, adjusting the straps of the bag slung over his shoulder. Lui, his transition guide, stood a few feet away, nodding at something Dante was saying. A small group of Inhumans had gathered with them as well, whispering among themselves, their expressions a mixture of understanding and disappointment.

When Dante spotted her, he gave her a small nod before turning back to shake Lui’s hand.

“You sure about this?” Moira asked when he reached her.

Dante exhaled, glancing around at the quiet sanctuary he was about to leave. “Yeah. I mean... this place is great. They’ve helped me. But it’s not where I belong.” He met her gaze. “S.H.I.E.L.D found me first. You found me first.”

Moira searched his face for any hesitation but found none. He had made his choice.

“Alright then,” she said, nodding. “Let’s get you home.”

A familiar flash of blue light crackled beside them as Gordon appeared. “Ready?” he asked.

Dante took one last look around, then turned back. “Yeah.”

Gordon reached for his shoulder, and in an instant, he was gone.

Moira let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders back. When she turned, Jiaying was watching from the steps of her office, arms folded. Her expression was unreadable, but something in her eyes told Moira she already knew Dante’s choice had been final.

Gordon reappeared. “Your turn.”

Moira hesitated only briefly before stepping toward him. One last glance at Jiaying, at the buildings tucked into the mountainside, at the people who had built their own world in secrecy. Then Gordon’s hand closed around her arm, the blue light engulfed her vision.

And when she blinked again, she was back – stood beside Danta on the terrace of Howard’s villa.

The humid air of the island replaced the dry mountain breeze. A shout rang out from the villa as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent rounded a corner, eyes going wide as he registered her sudden appearance.

A moment later, the front doors burst open, and Howard Stark shoved past her to grab Dante into a one-armed hug.

“Oh, thank god,” Howard muttered. “You’re both back. We’ve had people combing the island for days. Where the hell were you? Who took you?”

Dante, grinning, launched into an eager retelling of their time at Afterlife as Howard guided him inside.

Moira followed quietly, nodding at the agents gathering in the doorway, but her fingers brushed against the cloth in her pocket.

Jiaying’s words echoed in her head.

She had made her choice. Dante was entrusted with the secrets of Afterlife and the Inhumans who resided there.

But Jiaying had given her another one.

Moira sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on her knees, eyes fixed on the crystal sitting on the dresser. The cloth lay discarded beside it, the stone catching the dim light filtering in through the curtains. It was harmless like this, silent, still, waiting. And yet, it felt like it was watching her, aware of the power it held.

She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. Jiaying had called it a choice, but Moira wasn’t sure that was true. A choice implied she had no outside influence, that the weight of it hadn’t been handed to her by someone else.

Undergoing Terrigenesis at the X-Mansion wasn’t an option – she’d be a walking security breach before she even knew what her powers were. Doing it at a S.H.I.E.L.D. base wasn’t any better. Too many bodies, too many risks. She’d have to talk to Stark, find a safe place – if she’d even activate it at all. But holding onto it, knowing what it could do, was starting to feel just as dangerous.

With a frustrated sigh, she stood and crossed the room, grabbing her bag and shoving the crystal, cloth and all, into an inside pocket. Out of sight. That would have to do for now.

She turned to the phone on the desk. Checking her messages was an afterthought, something to ground herself in the normalcy of routine. But the second she hit play, she regretted it.

“Moira, where are you?”

Click.

“Please tell me you’re not picking up because you’re on your way here. Things are crazy…”

Click.

“If you’re doing this out of spite…”

Click.

“Moira.”

Alex’s voice in the final message was quieter – strained. Less frustration, more desperation.

She stared at the machine, jaw tightening.

It looked like she wouldn’t have time to keep deliberating after all.

Moira scanned the suite quickly, grabbing everything in sight and shoving it haphazardly into her case. She wasn’t packing; she was cramming, barely registering what went where. There was no time for neatness.

By the time she jogged downstairs, she was already scanning the rooms, searching. No sign of Howard in the usual spots. Which meant…

She swung open the door to the lab.

“I need to go to Winchester,” she said, striding inside like she hadn’t just barged into what looked like the middle of an experiment.

Howard blinked at her, the oversized goggles he was wearing making him look like a cartoon character.

“Huh?”

Thankfully, convincing Howard Stark to book her onto a flight didn’t take much effort. The moment she explained the urgency he was already working on getting her out that afternoon.

“I still don’t think Dante’s up to air travel yet,” Howard mused as they finalised the details. “Don’t get me wrong, the kid’s made incredible progress, but I’d rather get him back to the States by boat. Less chance of him having an accidental… situation.”

Moira nodded, only half-listening. Her thoughts were still stuck on Alex’s voice, that raw edge of desperation she wasn’t used to hearing.

Howard didn’t miss it.

“Relax, you’ll get there in time,” he reassured her before grinning. “Meanwhile, I’ve got my own battle, getting Inferno to leave this place. But if Maria’s last phone call was anything to go by, she’s not going to be thrilled if I extend my trip much longer.”

Moira’s expression softened. “You didn’t have to stay with us this long, Howard. S.H.I.E.L.D. could’ve sent someone else.”

“Hey, no skin off my back,” he said breezily. Then, smirking, “But if you wanna make it up to me, you can be the one to tell Dante you’re off on an exciting mission without him.”

Moira sighed but agreed, wasting no time heading upstairs. She needed to be at the airport as soon as possible.

“I can fly!” Dante protested the moment she told him.

“Dante,” she said, exasperated. “It’s not about the flight. You don’t have clearance for field missions yet. And to get clearance,” she added pointedly, “you need to start your training back at HQ.”

“But…”

“I don’t make the rules,” she reminded him.

He groaned, overly dramatic – spending too much time around Stark was definitely rubbing off on him.

“Fine.”

“Great,” Moira smirked. “And I’ll try to work something out so I can help with your training. Deal?”

Dante’s scowl morphed into a grin. “Deal.”

Neither of them was particularly surprised when Howard insisted on driving her to the airport, dragging Dante along under the guise of exposure training. It was a fair enough excuse, though he had the sense to keep the kid back in the car park where there were fewer witnesses.

Howard walked with her through the car park, hands shoved in his pockets, his usual cocky grin subdued for once. Dante, under strict orders to stay put, was watching from the car window, his face unreadable. Moira didn’t turn around. If she did, she might actually reconsider leaving.

“We need to talk when I get back,” she said, voice low, purposeful. “About what happened at Afterlife. It’s important.”

Howard shot her a side glance, his smirk twitching back into place. “So stay. Let Johnson’s team handle Winchester. Whatever’s going on with your mutants, they’ll still be there when you get back.”

Moira let out a breath, shaking her head. “You know that’s not how it works. Right now, I’m the only one they trust. If something’s happening, I have to be there.”

Howard sighed dramatically. “Alright, alright. Go be a hero, Agent MacTaggert.” He leaned in to press an exaggeratedly loud kiss to her forehead. “Try not to miss us too much.”

Moira rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that crept in.

It was strange, the thought of being apart from them. After everything with Dante… chasing him through the streets, dragging him halfway across the world, seeing him shift between fear and trust – it felt unnatural to leave him behind. He knew what it was to have his world rewritten in an instant, to wake up and find himself changed. But he didn’t know Moira might understand that feeling more than she let on. That she carried the same possibility with her, tucked away, waiting.

Howard, of course, had spent the last week making it his personal mission to wedge himself firmly between them.

Moira had lost count of the number of times he’d physically inserted himself between her and Dante on the couch, in the car, even at the breakfast table. “What?” he’d say, all innocence, before launching into some story designed to monopolise Dante’s attention.

One time, he’d actually thrown his arms around both of them and declared, “My boys! My beautiful boys!” before immediately attempting to recruit Dante into some absurd scheme involving an offshore speedboat race.

“Howard, no,” Moira had deadpanned.

“Moira, yes,” he had replied, completely unbothered.

And then, of course, there was the time he had casually presented Dante with the keys to a brand-new car, watching with smug satisfaction as the kid gawked at it like it was Christmas morning.

“One can never have too many cars,” Howard had said sagely, leaning against the hood while Moira pinched the bridge of her nose.

It was irresponsible, ridiculous and entirely Howard. But Dante had been laughing, grinning in a way he hadn’t since they’d met, and Moira supposed, in his own chaotic way, Howard was doing what he did best – taking care of people.

She trusted him to. After all, he’d done the same for her. When she’d been lost in the gaps of her own mind, memories stolen from her without permission, it was Howard and his team at S.H.I.E.L.D. who had helped piece her back together. He was reckless, infuriatingly smug and prone to making everything a spectacle, but beneath all that, he was a genius. A genius who knew how to put people back in control of their own lives.

Dante was in safe hands.

Still, as she approached the terminal, something heavy settled in her chest. Howard would keep an eye on him, and she trusted Jiaying wouldn’t send Gordon unless it was absolutely necessary.

Unless Moira made the choice Jiaying expected.

Chapter Text

Moira had expected to spend the entire plane ride agonising over what waited for her at the mansion – about Erik, about Alex’s desperate messages, about Charles and how he would undoubtedly pick through her mind the second she walked through the door. She should have been strategising, planning what she would and wouldn’t let slip. She should have been thinking about what she was going to do with the damn crystal still tucked away in her bag.

Instead, she fell asleep the moment they left the runway.

Leaning her head back, she barely registered the hum of the engines before unconsciousness pulled her under. When she woke, the seatbelt sign was on, and her neighbour was huffing under his breath, glaring at her like she’d personally forced him to hold his bladder for half the flight. She mumbled an apology, not feeling particularly sorry, and gathered her things.

The sleep had been unexpected but not unwelcome. She hadn’t had a proper night’s rest since she left Afterlife, since Jiaying’s words had settled into the back of her mind like a stone dropped into a lake. Most nights, she’d just stared at the ceiling of her suite, arms crossed, fighting the urge to reach for the crystal, to let her fingers brush against the fabric-wrapped bundle and wonder. Wonder if she should, if she could. If she wanted to.

She hated that part of her did.

Even now, as she strode through the airport, collected her bag, and moved toward the car rental, she could feel it. The weight of it against her side as she held her bag closer to her body, the unspoken choice waiting to be made and thrumming in anticipation. She had no plans to use it, none at all, and yet she hadn’t left it behind. That had to mean something.

She pushed the thought away as she drove out of the city, taking the fastest route north.

The roads stretched out before her, winding through the countryside, empty save for the occasional lorry. The drive should have been peaceful, but Moira's mind was anything but. With each mile closer to the mansion, her grip on the wheel tightened.

Would Charles be waiting for her?

She had no doubt that the moment she set foot on the grounds, he’d be inside her head. He would know everything in an instant. About Afterlife. About Jiaying. About the crystal.

And worse – he would know that part of her wanted it.

She tried to shake the thought, but it lingered. Would Charles respect her more if she had abilities? If she were something other than a woman with no powers, no gifts, no special abilities to justify her place at the table? Was that what had made it so easy for him to discard her before?

The self-disgust curled in her stomach like something rotten.

She reached into the glove compartment at a red light, pulling out her radio and tuning into the S.H.I.E.L.D. frequency. She didn’t need backup – Alex had insisted they could handle Erik – but she wasn’t stupid enough to go in completely blind.

So far, no chatter. No urgent calls, no sudden requests for extraction. That was something, at least.

She stopped at a petrol station just outside of town, using the payphone to dial the number Alex had given her.

“Hello.”

The voice on the other end wasn’t Alex’s. It wasn’t even familiar.

“Alex?” Moira asked, frowning.

A pause. “Who is this?”

“It’s Moira.”

There was another pause, then the sound of muffled voices and a clatter in the background. The voice came back, lower this time. “This isn’t a good time.”

Moira’s grip tightened on the receiver. “Who is this… Hank?”

More noise, another muffled exchange she couldn’t make out.

Then, nothing.

The line went dead.

Moira stared at the phone for a long second before setting it back on the cradle, irritation prickling at the back of her neck.

Fine. If they weren’t going to talk, she’d get her answers in person.

The rest of the drive was a blur of growing frustration and stubborn resolve. By the time she pulled up outside the mansion, she barely noticed the sprawling estate or the towering house ahead. Her focus was entirely on the people inside.

The tyres crunched against the gravel as she hit the brakes a little harder than necessary.

No movement in the windows. No sign that anyone had been watching for her arrival.

It shouldn’t have unsettled her.

It did.

Charles knew she was here. He had to. So why hadn’t he reached out?

Moira didn’t wait. The moment she rang the bell, she pounded on the door with her fist, jaw clenched tight.

Before she could strike again, the door flew open – slamming into something behind it with a loud crash.

Charles stood on the threshold, beaming, utterly unbothered by whatever he’d just knocked over. Then, to Moira’s absolute shock, he stepped forward and seized her in a tight hug.

“Moira! I had no idea you were coming,” he said brightly into her hair. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Her arms remained stiff at her sides, her entire body frozen in disbelief. Charles was warm, solid – real. And standing.

Before she could recover, he pulled back, grinning like a schoolboy.

“Hi, Moira,” Alex said dryly, appearing in the doorway behind him. “How was the journey? I assume you came via the South Pole since it took you two weeks to get here. Is it nice this time of year?”

Moira shot him a look. “I was away,” she said, knowing how weak it sounded. “I got here as soon as I could.”

Alex didn’t look impressed, but she was too preoccupied with Charles to care.

He was still grinning, still standing. Still acting like this was all completely normal.

“What…” Her voice faltered as she stared at him, unable to reconcile what she was seeing. “What’s going on?”

Charles didn’t seem to notice her unease. “Oh, where are our manners?” He turned to Alex as if disappointed in his lack of hospitality. “Come in, come in. Have you got any bags?”

Moira stiffened slightly, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Just this,” she said, deliberately not offering it to either of them.

Charles, oblivious, was already leading the way inside, but Alex’s sharp eyes flicked to her bag with curiosity.

Moira ignored it, stepping into the house – stepping over the broken statue beside the door – trying to start a silent conversation with Alex using nothing but her eyebrows.

Charles, meanwhile, was playing host like nothing was out of the ordinary. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water,” she said automatically, hoping to get a moment alone with Alex.

Charles nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen.

The second he was out of earshot, Moira turned to Alex. “What the hell?” she demanded, her voice low.

“I know,” Alex muttered.

“I mean…” She gestured after Charles, still reeling. “How is this possible?”

Alex hesitated, then cast a quick glance around the hallway, suddenly wary. “Come in here,” he murmured, grabbing her elbow and pulling her into one of the smaller rooms off the hall.

He shut the door quietly, lowering his voice. “Hank developed this serum. It lets the Professor walk again.”

Moira blinked. “Oh. Well, that’s…”

“But,” Alex cut in, his expression darkening, “it has side effects.”

Something in his voice sent a chill through her.

“His powers,” Alex continued. “They don’t work anymore.”

Moira let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

For the first time since stepping onto the mansion grounds, she felt like she could relax. No whispered thoughts brushing against hers, no careful mental barriers, no fear that Charles would unearth every secret she carried – including the one sitting heavily in her bag.

But then, shame curled in her stomach. She should be worried about Charles, about what losing his powers meant for him, how he was coping. Instead, her first thought was relief.

Because now, for the first time, she was safe from him.

She swallowed hard. “When did he start taking it?”

Alex exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “Not long after you left with your S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.”

“But he’s still taking it? Why hasn’t Hank stopped giving it to him?”

“The Professor thinks being able to walk again is more important,” Alex said, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m worried, Moira. A lot of us are. He’s not acting like himself. He even talked about shutting the school down the other day to go travelling.” His jaw tightened. “He can’t. Some of these kids have nowhere else to go.”

Moira barely had time to process that before Charles’ voice echoed through the hall.

“Moira? Alex?” he called, his tone light, teasing. “You’ll have to tell me where you’ve gone. I can’t find you otherwise!” He let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Moira met Alex’s gaze. Neither of them spoke, but she saw the frustration there. The worry.

With a silent agreement, they stepped back into the hall.

Charles was waiting with a glass of water, offering it to her with a smile.

Moira took it, though she wished it was something stronger.

“Why don’t we head to my office?” Charles suggested as if this were just any other day.

“Great plan,” Alex said with forced cheer. “Hey, why don’t I go get Sean? You know how put out he was last time when Moira left so soon.”

Charles beamed. “Oh, absolutely.”

Alex shot her a pleading look before turning on his heel and making a quick exit.

Moira took a long sip of water, bracing herself.

She was alone with Charles now.

And for the first time, he wasn’t inside her head.

She wasn’t sure if that made things better – or worse.

Charles' office had been relocated upstairs, back to where it had once been. A return to its proper place, just like him. Or so he seemed to think.

“So,” Charles said, ushering her into a chair by his desk. “What brings you back to Winchester so soon?”

He didn’t sit. He stayed standing.

Moira glanced at his legs, then up at his face, searching for any trace of irony. There was none.

“Well, Charles,” she said slowly. “Alex called me. He sounded worried and asked me to come by.”

Charles arched a brow. “Alex is worried? He hasn’t mentioned that to me. Did he say what it was about?”

Moira stared at him, disbelief tightening in her chest. Could he really be this blind?

“You, Charles,” she said flatly. “You.”

Charles blinked. “Why? I’m fine.”

Moira let out a short laugh, unable to help herself. “Are you?”

He looked at her as though she were the one being unreasonable. “Of course. Look at me!” He spread his arms wide, beaming, as though expecting her to celebrate with him. “I can walk again, Moira. I can run with Hank, I can climb the stairs, I can get back into my own office.” He reached for his desk chair, gripping it like a prize. “It’s just like how things used to be.”

Moira inhaled sharply, gripping the arms of her chair.

“But, Charles,” she pressed, leaning forward, “your powers. And Alex said you were talking about closing the school. That doesn’t sound like you. Can you understand why we’re worried?”

Charles exhaled, shaking his head like she was missing something obvious. “Moira. Don’t you see?”

He took a step closer, then another, until he was right in front of her. His movements were fluid, energetic, more animated than she’d ever seen.

“This is everything we need,” he said, almost breathless. “I can walk again. I can be like myself.”

Then, suddenly, he reached for her hand.

Moira barely had time to react before his fingers curled around hers, warm and firm, holding onto her like she was something steady in all of this.

“And you,” he said, his voice softer, more hopeful, “you never have to worry about me reading your mind again.”

Her breath caught.

He smiled, eyes bright with something raw. “We can be happy this way. And we won’t close the school if you don’t want to. It’ll be like how it always should have been.”

The grin that stretched across his face was almost manic.

Moira’s hand was loose in his, her mind blank.

He was offering her everything she’d once wanted – everything that had felt impossible. A future together, without the threat of his power hanging over them. Without the fear that, at any moment, he could take everything from her again.

And yet.

This wasn’t Charles. Not really.

His powers were as much a part of him as his hands, his voice, his mind. She had spent so long fearing them, hating them, but to see him like this – without them, stripped of something so fundamental – unnerved her.

She’d never wanted mutants to hide, never wanted anyone to feel they had to erase a part of themselves to belong.

So why did it feel like a relief? Why did a part of her, a dark and shameful part, want him to stay this way?

Moira’s stomach twisted.

She turned dumbly towards the door, searching for an anchor, only to find Alex and Sean standing there, looking just as lost.

“Oh, there you both are,” Charles said, following Moira’s gaze as he finally noticed Sean and Alex standing in the doorway. His fingers curled around Moira’s hand, lifting it in an almost childlike display. “Look, Sean. Look who it is.” He grinned as he waved their joined hands in the air.

Sean exhaled, relief evident in his expression. “Hi, Moira. Thank god you’re here.”

“Erm, Professor.” Alex cleared his throat. “You’re meant to be teaching a class in five minutes.”

Charles blinked, as though the words didn’t quite register. He stared at Alex, then at Moira, then down at his own feet, as if the answer might be hiding somewhere between them.

“Oh,” he said finally. But he didn’t move.

Moira felt his grip on her hand tighten, just slightly.

Alex stepped forward. “The kids are waiting,” he reminded him.

For a long, uncomfortable second, Moira thought Charles might refuse. Then, with great reluctance, he let her go.

“I won’t be gone long,” he said, reaching for his suit jacket. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her with an expression that almost – almost – looked like the Charles she had known before. “You’ll still be here, won’t you?”

Moira forced herself to nod. “Yes, Charles.”

He studied her for a beat longer, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for her again. Then, just as suddenly as before, his expression brightened, the same unnatural cheer returning to his face.

“Excellent,” he said. Then he bounded off down the hall, whistling.

The second he was out of earshot, Sean let out a long breath. “You’ll make him stop, right?”

Alex groaned. “I’m gonna kill Hank for making that serum.”

Moira didn’t respond right away. She stared after Charles, her stomach twisting with something uncomfortably close to guilt.

Then, finally, she exhaled.

“Yeah,” she said faintly.

She suddenly wished she had taken Peggy up on her offer to come with her.

Sean and Alex both collapsed into chairs opposite Moira, Sean rubbing his face with both hands while Alex let his head fall back against the wood panelling with a thud.

“This is a nightmare,” Alex muttered.

Moira, still staring at the door Charles had disappeared through, could hardly disagree.

Sean let out a breath. “You see what we’re dealing with now?”

Moira nodded slowly. “Yeah. I see.”

She exhaled, forcing herself to focus, to think. She was still rattled, more than rattled, but she needed to understand exactly how things had gotten this bad.

“How long has he been like this?” she asked.

Alex shifted in his chair, stretching out his legs. “A while. The first time he took the serum, we thought…” He stopped and frowned. “I don’t know what we thought. That maybe he was just happy? That he finally had something for himself?”

Sean scoffed. “Yeah, well. The rest of us stopped thinking that when he tried to shut down the school.”

Moira frowned. “He was serious about that?”

“As far as we can tell.” Sean shook his head. “He’s been talking about travelling, saying maybe we should all just live our own lives instead of clinging to this place. But that’s not what we want, and it’s definitely not what he wants. He loves this school. You know that.”

Moira did. She had never seen Charles more at ease, more like himself, than when he was guiding other mutants, shaping a place where they could all feel safe.

This – this frantic, feverish version of him – was not the man she had known.

And yet.

She had to bite back the memory of the look on his face when he’d grasped her hand. The hope in his eyes.

She shook herself. “Hank,” she said suddenly. “I called before I got here. Someone answered, but they wouldn’t tell me who they were. When I asked if it was Hank, they hung up on me.”

Sean and Alex exchanged glances.

“That must’ve been him,” Alex said.

“What the hell is going on with him?” Moira asked.

Alex sighed. “Guilt.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“He promised Charles something, he swore he could make him walk again. And he did. But he didn’t think about what it would cost.” Alex ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Hank’s been holed up in the lab ever since. We barely see him except for lessons, and even then, it’s like he’s a ghost.”

Moira exhaled. She wasn’t sure what to do with any of this information, only that it left her with the distinct, sinking feeling that things were much worse than they first appeared.

Leaning back in her chair, Moira shifted slightly, and for the first time, she realised she was still clutching her bag against her side. She had been holding it close without thinking, as though guarding it.

Her fingers curled a little tighter around the strap before she forced herself to loosen her grip, adjusting it over her shoulder. The weight of it felt heavier than before, like it had taken on a presence of its own.

Alex’s eyes flickered to the movement, but he didn’t say anything.

Moira exhaled slowly, pressing her hand against the bag for just a moment – steadying herself, grounding herself.

She had more immediate things to worry about.

Chapter Text

Alex didn’t even hesitate before offering her a room in the teacher’s wing. “You know the place better than anywhere else,” he reasoned. “And if you’re staying, we’ll need you close. Especially if we’re going to figure out what to do about Charles.”

Moira should have refused outright. She should have told him she’d book a hotel in town, keep her distance, not get tangled up in all of this any more than she already was. But she didn’t.

“Fine,” she said instead, shifting the weight of her bag over her shoulder. “Just for tonight.”

She followed Alex down the familiar hallways, past old portraits and rooms that had seen decades of change. The mansion was quiet this evening, most of the students were in their dormitories or the common areas. But it still felt lived-in, still held a warmth that made it feel like a home.

As they reached the room, Alex pushed the door open and gestured her inside. “You know where everything is. Bathroom at the end of the hall. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

She nodded, stepping inside. The room was simple – nothing had changed since her last visit. A neatly made bed, an oak dresser, a small desk by the window. But as she set her bag down, she hesitated. Her fingers drifted to the zipper, and before she could stop herself, she was pulling it open and reaching inside. The cloth-wrapped crystal sat where she’d left it, but it felt heavier now, almost like it had shifted its weight to meet her hand.

Moira swallowed hard and pulled it free, just enough to see the outline of the stone beneath the fabric. The longer she had it, the harder it was to resist. She needed to see Howard and Jason, and get their take on what she should do. But she couldn’t leave now. And now, instead of leaving it in her bag, she slid it into her pocket.

Like keeping it close was the only option.

Later, she walked through the corridors, her fingers brushing against the crystal in her pocket. Her thoughts were tangled, shifting between Charles and Jiaying and the weight of the choices she hadn’t asked for.

Then she heard it – laughter. Not the forced, uneasy laughter of adults pretending everything was fine, but the genuine, carefree sound of children.

She paused near an open doorway, watching as a handful of students ran across the grass, dodging each other with small bursts of energy and tricks unique to their gifts. One of the older ones – perhaps fifteen or sixteen – was levitating slightly above the ground, just enough that his shoes barely touched the ground. Another flicked a hand, making a basketball fly into the hoop.

They were young. So young.

She’d known there were children at the mansion, of course. But standing here, watching them, made it impossible to ignore. These kids weren’t just students. They weren’t recruits for Division X. They were mutants still learning how to exist in a world that wasn’t built for them.

If Charles shut the school down, where would they go?

Moira exhaled slowly, stepping away.

Then she saw it.

A boy, maybe thirteen, walking past her down the hallway. She didn’t recognise him, but that wasn’t unusual – there were plenty of new faces here.

Except, a moment later, she saw him again. Heading in the same direction. Backpack slung over the same shoulder, trousers crinkled the exact same way.

She frowned. A twin? A power? Or something else?

Her instincts sharpened, and she turned on her heel, trailing after him at a careful distance. He moved with purpose, weaving through the hallways, past the classrooms and deeper into the mansion.

Then, he slipped into Hank’s lab.

Moira crept forward, staying just out of sight. Through the crack of the door, she caught a glimpse inside – and her stomach clenched. It wasn’t a student at all. It was Raven. Or perhaps Mystique would be more accurate given her current form.

Moira stayed just outside, listening.

“Does Erik know you’re here?” Hank’s voice was tense, but beneath it was exhaustion. Like he barely had the energy to deal with whatever this was.

Raven hesitated. “No. But he’s going to find out. I can’t keep this from him forever.”

Moira pressed her lips together, holding her breath.

“You shouldn’t even be here,” Hank muttered.

“Oh, don’t start,” Raven snapped. “Not when you’re the one playing god in the basement. Do you even hear yourself?”

Hank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Raven…”

“No.” She stepped closer, her voice sharp and low. “You made something that takes away mutant powers. Do you understand what you’ve done?”

Hank let out a bitter laugh. “I understand better than anyone.”

“Oh, really? Because it looks to me like you just handed Charles a way out. And he took it.”

“He wanted to walk again,” Hank said flatly. “And after everything that happened, after Erik, after you, after… can you really blame him?”

Raven scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course I can. And I can blame you too. You built this, Hank. You gave him the choice.”

“I gave him what he wanted.”

“Bullshit.” Raven’s voice was ice. “You think I don’t know him? He’s never known what’s best for himself. He’ll give and give until there’s nothing left. He needs us to fight for him.”

Hank finally looked at her then, and for a second, something flickered in his expression – something old and worn, long since frayed. Moira didn’t need telepathy to see that whatever had once existed between them had faded into dust.

“You want me to fight for him?” Hank asked, his voice quiet, empty. “I’ve been fighting for him, Raven. Every day since Cuba. And I’m tired.”

A muscle in Raven’s jaw twitched, but she didn’t back down. “Can you fix it?”

Hank hesitated.

“You gave him that serum. Can you take it back?”

“He won’t let me,” Hank admitted.

Silence stretched between them.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Raven finally muttered. “But I had to know.”

She turned toward the door.

Moira barely had time to react. If Raven stepped out now, she’d see her immediately. Swallowing hard, she shifted back, pressing herself against the shadows of the hallway. Quiet. Unmoving. Watching.

Raven didn’t notice. She strode past, shoulders tense, head high, disguise back in place. She vanished up the stairs without hesitation.

Moira exhaled slowly. She should have stopped her. Should have confronted her, dragged her into a proper discussion, forced her to stay long enough to explain herself. But she hadn’t. Because provoking a fight now, when Charles was at his weakest, wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

Not with the students upstairs. Not with Erik waiting for an excuse to strike.

No. She needed to be smart about this.

Moira found Alex in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a coffee in hand. His eyes flicked up at her entrance, brow furrowing when he caught her expression.

“What?”

She wasted no time filling him in on what she’d overheard.

Alex swore under his breath, setting his mug down with more force than necessary. “Raven was here?” He shook his head, pacing a short line by the counter. “Jesus. If she can just walk in without anyone noticing, who else could? What if it’s not just her? What if Erik’s already been here too?”

Moira folded her arms. “She was alone this time.”

“And next time?” Alex snapped. “What if Erik decides to stop playing nice? What if they come in like Shaw did and just take the kids? We wouldn’t even see it coming – not with the Professor like this.”

Moira pressed her lips together, knowing he had a point. Without Charles’ abilities, there was no early warning system, no silent presence sweeping through the mansion’s halls to keep them safe. And if Raven was keeping tabs on them, how long before Erik decided to visit?

Alex exhaled sharply, hands bracing against the counter. “That’s it. I’m talking to Hank.”

Moira caught his arm before he could move. “No. Not yet.”

Alex turned to her, incredulous. “Moira, he’s the reason Charles is like this! He made the serum, he…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “And if we go in there now, demanding answers, he’ll just dig his heels in. Right now, he feels just as defeated as you do.”

Alex clenched his jaw, torn between anger and frustration. “So what, we just do nothing?”

Moira shook her head. “We figure out a way to stop Charles from taking the serum. That’s what matters most.”

Alex exhaled, still tense, but he didn’t argue. He knew she was right.

They barely had time to say anything else before they heard footsteps approaching. Moira turned just in time to see Charles entering the kitchen, beaming as soon as he spotted her.

“Moira,” he said warmly. “I was hoping you were still here.”

He didn’t hesitate before taking her hand again, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

“Come,” he said, his voice bright with excitement. “Let’s go for a walk in the gardens.”

The air was crisp as Moira followed Charles through the gardens, the gravel crunching underfoot. The afternoon light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the path. It took her longer than it should have to realise where they were heading.

Her stomach twisted.

This was the same path where they had walked that night. Where she had promised to keep his secret. Where he had kissed her – soft, sure, and full of something she’d once believed was real. And where, with the same gentle certainty, he had stolen everything from her.

Charles didn’t seem to realise.

She kept pace beside him, hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, her fingers brushing against the hidden weight of the crystal. He didn’t know about that either.

How would he react if he did? Would he think differently of her if she had powers? If she were more like him?

The thought made her feel sick. It wasn’t right. Not the idea of him respecting her more, but the part of her that was disgusted with herself for wanting it.

She swallowed the thought down and refocused.

The mansion had changed since she was last here. Not just in its students, but in the details: the reinforced windows, the expanded dormitories, the newly marked training areas on the lawns. She had seen it all, but now, walking beside him, it struck her just how much of his original vision had come to life.

She glanced over at him. “You did it, you know.”

Charles looked at her, brow furrowing slightly. “Did what?”

She gestured around them. “The school. Everything you talked about back then. A safe haven for mutants, a place to learn, to grow.” She smiled faintly. “It’s impressive.”

His expression softened, his usual confidence creeping back in. “Well, I had help.”

Moira nodded. “Of course. But it was your dream, Charles. And you made it happen.” She hesitated before continuing, lowering her voice. “That’s why it’s so disappointing to see you risk it all.”

The warmth in his face faltered. “Moira…”

“No,” she said, stepping in front of him, forcing him to stop. “You say you’ll keep the school open for me, but that’s not the point.”

Charles tilted his head, studying her. “Then what is?”

“The example you’re setting.” She gestured toward the mansion. “How can you call this a safe place when you didn’t even know Raven was here today?”

He stilled.

“What?”

Moira pressed her lips together, letting the realisation settle over him.

“She was here. I saw her.”

He exhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. “And I…” He hesitated, his voice quieter. “I didn’t know.”

Moira shook her head. “And that’s the problem.”

Silence stretched between them.

Charles’ throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You think I should stop taking it.”

“I know you should,” Moira corrected.

His eyes darkened with something she couldn’t quite place. “Moira, you don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me,” she said, gentler now. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re willing to give up everything you built just to convince yourself you’re fixing things.”

Charles exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about walking.” He let out a short, humourless laugh. “That was… incredible, at first. But when I realised the side effect, it opened up a whole new avenue.” He turned to her fully. “Moira, I saw what you were thinking last time you were here.”

Her stomach clenched.

“I know you don’t trust me.” His voice was quiet, aching with something that made it hard to meet his eyes. “And I know why. You’re right. I took something from you that I had no right to take. And I…” He swallowed. “I have regretted it every moment since, and I will for the rest of my life. How else can I show how sorry I am except by giving up the thing that made you afraid of me?”

Moira inhaled sharply, caught between relief and frustration.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I’ll ever trust you again. But this isn’t a solution, Charles.” She took a step closer. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me by giving up who you are. The only solution is time. And we both have plenty of it.”

For a long moment, Charles said nothing. Then, finally, he exhaled.

“Time,” he repeated like he was trying the word out for the first time.

Moira nodded. “Come on.” She reached out, hesitating for only a second before taking his hand, steering him back toward the mansion. “Let’s talk to Hank.”

He followed, but she felt the tension in his grip. He wasn’t convinced yet.

As they reached the door, Moira spoke offhandedly, “I’ll reach out to Howard. See if he can work on the serum. Maybe fix the side effects.”

Charles frowned slightly. “Howard?”

She almost smiled at the flicker of something – jealousy? – in his tone.

“Howard Stark.”

His expression shifted immediately. “Howard Stark?”

Moira smirked. “Impressed?”

Charles let out a breath, shaking his head. “You work with Howard Stark?”

“We collaborate,” she corrected, enjoying the brief moment of surprise on his face. “He’s one of the people who got my memories back, by the way.”

Charles’ lips pressed together, some of that guilt creeping back in. “I suppose I owe him a thank you.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Moira said dryly. “He’s got a big enough head as it is.”

That earned her a small chuckle, and for the first time since she’d arrived, Charles almost seemed like himself again.

“Come on, Professor.” She nudged his arm as they stepped inside. “Let’s get you sorted.”

Chapter Text

Moira led Charles down to Hank’s lab, keeping pace with him, though she could feel his hesitation in every step. He had agreed to this, but that didn’t mean he was ready. She wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

The lab was as cluttered as ever – notes and blueprints stacked in haphazard piles, equipment left half-assembled, the faint scent of chemicals lingering in the air. Hank sat hunched over his desk, flipping through papers with an exhausted focus. He hadn’t noticed them.

Moira rapped her knuckles against the doorframe. “Hank.”

He flinched, turning sharply. His eyes widened when he saw her. “Moira?”

She stepped inside, keeping her gaze level. “Been a while.”

Hank’s surprise faded, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s the reason I’m here,” Charles said lightly, though there was tension beneath his words.

Hank’s eyes flickered to him, then down to his legs. He inhaled sharply. “So, you’ve finally decided to stop.”

Moira crossed her arms. “Noticed Raven was here earlier. You two have a nice chat?”

Hank stiffened, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face before he schooled his expression. “How did you…” He exhaled through his nose. “You were listening.”

Moira gave him a flat look. “I was walking past when I saw a student I could’ve sworn I’d already passed in the hall. Trained agents check those sorts of things.”

Hank hesitated, shoulders tight. “Look, I…”

Moira cut him off. “I’m not here to interrogate you, Hank.” She softened, studying him properly now – the dark circles, the rigid way he held himself. “How are you?”

Hank blinked at her, caught off guard. “What?”

“You barely leave the lab. You look like you haven’t slept in a month. Alex said you’re not yourself. And let’s not forget you hung up on me earlier.” She arched a brow. “So, how are you?”

Hank’s jaw twitched. For a moment, she thought he might answer.

Instead, he let out a slow breath and said, “You’re stopping the serum.”

It wasn’t a question.

Charles hesitated, glancing at Moira before giving a single, short nod.

Hank exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright. That’s – good. That’s good.” His voice was hoarse with exhaustion. He reached for a notepad, scribbling something down. “We’ll taper you off gradually. Your system’s used to it by now, stopping cold could be… unpleasant.”

Moira folded her arms, watching Hank carefully. He had agreed too quickly as if he had been hoping for this moment.

She considered pushing, asking him outright how he was holding up, but something in the way he was gripping his pen – like it was the only thing keeping him upright – made her hold back. He already looked like a man carrying too much. The last thing he needed was her adding to it.

Instead, she nodded. “Good. Then we’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

Hank flipped to a new page in his notes, already absorbed in the calculations. He murmured something about gradually reducing the dosage and how long it might take for Charles’ abilities to start returning.

Moira exhaled, glancing between them. “Alright. Hank, you’ve got this?”

Hank gave a weary nod, still jotting notes on his pad. “I’ll start adjusting the formula. We’ll take it slow.”

Charles shifted beside her, as if uncertain whether he was making the right choice. She reached out, resting a hand briefly on his arm. “This is for the best, Charles.”

He searched her face as if looking for reassurance, before nodding. “I know.”

Still, when she stepped back, he caught her wrist lightly. “You’re leaving?”

“Just to find Alex,” she said, prying her hand free gently. “He’s been worried sick. You have no idea how many times he called me to come down here, Charles.”

That seemed to make him pause.

“I’ll be back once I’ve calmed him down,” she promised.

Charles exhaled, reluctantly releasing her. “Alright.”

She shot him a small, knowing look before heading for the door, leaving him in Hank’s capable – if exhausted – hands.

Moira found Alex in the common room, pacing by the window. The moment he saw her, he straightened.

“Well? What did he say?”

“He’s stopping the serum,” Moira said simply.

Alex let out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Finally.”

Before she could say anything else, he was already moving. “I need to tell the others.”

“Alex, wait…” Moira caught his arm, then gestured toward the phone sitting on the table. “Can I use that?”

He nodded, barely registering her request before hurrying off to spread the news.

Moira exhaled, picking up the receiver. She needed to check back in with S.H.I.E.L.D.

Moira dialled the number from memory, pressing the receiver to her ear as the line clicked. The hum of static was brief before a familiar voice came through.

“Carter.”

Moira exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. “It’s me.”

“Well, it’s about time,” Peggy said, wry but warm. “I was beginning to think you’d gone radio silent on us.”

Moira glanced around the room instinctively, lowering her voice. “Things have been… eventful.”

“I can imagine.” There was a pause, then, “Dante made it to headquarters safely. Howard brought him in yesterday.”

That got Moira’s full attention. “And?”

“He’s settling in. Still getting used to everything, but he’s sharp. Observant.” Peggy hesitated. “Moira, we need a full debrief on Afterlife. Dante told us what he could, but he’s not an agent. Not yet.”

Moira’s fingers tightened around the receiver. “I know. And I will. But not while I’m here.”

There was a beat of silence. Peggy didn’t press, didn’t demand an explanation. She didn’t need to.

Instead, she simply said, “Do you need me to come out there?”

Moira almost said yes. It would have been easier to have Peggy’s presence to ground her. But she forced herself to shake her head, even though Peggy couldn’t see it.

“No. Everything’s looking better with the X-Men. The school’s staying open, and Charles is…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He’s listening. It’s progress.”

Peggy hummed, unconvinced but willing to let it lie. “And what about you?”

Moira hesitated again, then pushed forward. “I want to put in a request.”

“For?”

“For Dante,” she said. “I know I’m still new to S.H.I.E.L.D., and this might be out of bounds, but I want to be his S.O.”

There was a brief pause.

“He trusts me,” Moira continued quickly like she needed to make her case before Peggy could shut it down. “We spent weeks together. I know his strengths, his weaknesses, what makes him tick. And I promised him I’d ask.” She exhaled sharply. “I just – I want to see this through.”

Peggy’s voice was quieter when she spoke. “Are you finished?”

Moira frowned. “What?”

“You were rambling.”

“I was making my case.”

“You were rambling.”

Moira sighed, leaning against the table. “So, what do you think?”

Peggy was silent for a moment, then said, “We’ll work something out.”

Relief washed through her, but before she could thank her, Peggy added, “But you need to take care of yourself too, Moira. This is the longest you’ve been in the field since you joined. That’s not nothing.”

Moira swallowed. “I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Peggy’s voice softened. “Check in again soon, alright?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Peggy’s voice came through the receiver again before Moira could hang up.

“When do you expect to be back?”

Moira hesitated.

Hank had said it would take time for the serum to wear off, for Charles’ powers to return. A slow process. She could go back to headquarters now – debrief properly, figure out what to do about the crystal, check in on Dante – and be back before Charles could weigh in on the matter.

Before he had the chance to look at her with those soft, knowing eyes and ask the questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

“I can be on a plane in the morning,” Moira said finally.

“I think that would be for the best.”

The line went dead.

Moira set the receiver down, exhaling slowly as she considered her options. She’d book a flight first thing in the morning. That gave her the rest of the evening to check in on Charles, make sure Hank had everything under control, and reassure the others that she’d be back.

She barely had time to process the thought before Alex appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with mild amusement. “So, you’re staying?”

Moira glanced up sharply, but Alex’s expression was easy – he hadn’t been listening in.

She nodded. “Actually, I need to head back in the morning.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t get into it,” she said carefully. “It’s not my story to tell.”

His smile faded. “But it’s important.”

She nodded. “There’s a kid who needs me. I’ll be back, but I have to go see him.”

Alex studied her, clearly debating whether to pry, but eventually just nodded. “Well, if you’ve got until morning. Sean’s throwing a party tonight, and you’re the guest of honour.”

Moira huffed a small, reluctant laugh. “Of course I am.”

“Figured you could use a proper welcome back.” He shrugged. “Or at least, an excuse to drink.”

She raised a brow. “You don’t need an excuse.”

Alex grinned. “No, but it helps.”

Moira shook her head, pushing herself up from the chair. “I need to talk to Charles first.”

Alex’s grin faded slightly. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

She exhaled, glancing past him toward the hallway. “No. But I’m doing it anyway.”

Alex hesitated, crossing his arms. “Moira. If you tell him you’re leaving, what if he backtracks? What if he decides he’d rather keep the serum and keep you here?”

Moira sighed. “I’m not leaving forever.”

“You say that,” Alex muttered.

She softened slightly. “I mean it. But I can’t stay indefinitely. My work isn’t behind a desk, Alex… it takes me into the field. There’s always going to be something pulling me away.”

Alex looked unconvinced, so she held his gaze, willing him to understand.

“You and Sean called me because you were worried about Charles, and I’m here. I’ll always be here when you need me.” Her voice was steady, certain. “But I can’t abandon the other people who need me, either. I won’t abandon Charles – but I can’t abandon them either.”

Something in Alex’s expression shifted, the sharpness in his eyes dulling just slightly. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You always did have a hero complex.”

Moira huffed. “Takes one to know one.”

He rolled his eyes, but the tension between them eased. “Go on, then. Talk to him.”

Moira gave him a final nod before turning, making her way toward the lab.

Moira found Charles still in Hank’s lab, standing near the desk as Hank flipped through his notes. They both looked up when she entered, and Charles’ face immediately shifted to concern.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his posture straightening.

Moira nodded, even though she wasn’t sure if that would be true for long. “Can we talk? Alone.”

His brows furrowed slightly. He hesitated, glancing at Hank as if searching for an excuse to stay, but he didn’t find one. “Of course.”

Hank didn’t comment, but Moira caught the way his pen hovered over the page. He wasn’t looking at them, but he was curious.

Charles stepped toward her, gesturing for her to lead the way. She didn’t speak as they walked, their footsteps echoing softly through the hallway.

She should’ve thought of what to say before coming down here. Should’ve run through the conversation in her head and planned it out, like she did for debriefs and mission reports. But this wasn’t a mission. This was Charles. And nothing about him – about them – had ever been simple.

When they reached one of the sitting rooms, she pushed the door shut behind them, then turned to face him.

He was watching her closely, his blue eyes sharp, already searching for answers before she could give them. “What is it?”

Moira swallowed. “I wanted to tell you this in person.”

The lines between his brows deepened. He said nothing, waiting.

She folded her arms, steeling herself. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

His expression flickered, but he didn’t react outright. He was waiting for more.

She exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over her jaw before dropping it to her side. “There’s a kid who needs me.”

Charles blinked, thrown by the answer.

She shifted her weight, bracing herself. “His name’s Dante. He’s been through something horrible. Worse than anything I ever saw at Division X, worse than anything anyone should ever have to live through. When I found him, he was terrified, alone, completely lost.” Her voice softened. “I can’t just walk away from him, Charles. I won’t. I need to go see him and make sure he’s doing okay.”

Charles stayed quiet for a long moment. His gaze flickered, his fingers curling slightly into the palm of his hand before straightening back out. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle but careful. “And what happens when he doesn’t need you anymore?”

Moira’s stomach twisted.

Because the truth was, she didn’t know.

“He’s not a mission,” she said. “He’s a kid. And I won’t just abandon him.”

Charles nodded, slow and measured, but something was working behind his eyes, something she couldn’t quite place.

“And after that?” His voice was lighter, but there was something tentative beneath it, something uncertain. “When there’s no one left who needs you… would you stay?”

Moira inhaled sharply. He wasn’t asking outright, but the meaning was clear.

She steadied herself. “I don’t want you to think I’m running. I’ll come back.”

His gaze softened, and he said, with quiet certainty, “Your protectiveness over people like us… it’s what made me fall in love with you, you know.”

Moira stilled.

The words should have sent warmth through her, should have made her heart skip the way it used to before everything changed. Before the beach, before the gap in her memories, before the weight of betrayal settled into the cracks of their relationship.

There was a time when hearing Charles say he loved her would have been all she wanted.

But now, it only made her chest tighten.

She had spent too long trying to untangle her feelings for him – what had been real, what had been shaped by the power he wielded. She had fallen for him once, or at least, she thought she had. But could she ever say those words back, knowing what he had done?

She forced a small smirk instead, breaking the tension. “Sean’s throwing a party.”

Charles blinked at the sudden shift.

“Apparently, I’m the guest of honour,” she added, arms crossing.

For a moment, he just stared at her, like he couldn’t quite believe she had pivoted the conversation so abruptly. Then, to her relief, his lips twitched. “Well, you deserve it.” His voice was warmer now, softer. “I do hope you’ll accept a dance while I can still enjoy it.”

Moira swallowed, forcing her expression to remain light. “I’ll take you up on that dance. But after that, I need to go.”

Charles held her gaze for a beat longer. He didn’t argue, didn’t ask her to stay, but something in his face – something unspoken – made her breath catch.

She glanced away first, straightening. “And you still need to make a decision about S.H.I.E.L.D.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but it was tired. “I know.”

She lingered a moment longer as if there was something else to say, but nothing came.

Instead, she turned for the door.

“I’ll see you at the party,” she said over her shoulder.

And then she left before he could say anything else.

The party was already in full swing by the time Moira arrived in the common room.

The atmosphere was lighter than she’d seen since stepping foot in the mansion – music playing, drinks being passed around, laughter spilling from every corner. Sean was in his element, entertaining a small group of students with an exaggerated retelling of some old mission gone horribly wrong, while Alex was busy dragging her through the room, insisting on introducing her to every teacher he could find.

She met a handful of them. Some older, some barely older than the students they taught. A few recognised her name from Charles' stories, others only knew her as the woman Alex wouldn’t stop calling when things went south.

But it was the students that caught her attention the most.

Some were older teenagers, close to adulthood, but others were still just kids. One couldn’t have been older than twelve, nervously gripping the hem of his sleeve before Alex nudged him forward and introduced him as Josh. He could turn his hands to steel, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to control it yet.

Moira crouched slightly to be at eye level. “That’s a useful ability,” she told him. “I imagine you’ll get the hang of it with time.”

Josh gave a small, uncertain smile before scurrying away when Alex tried to ruffle his hair.

Moira exhaled, watching him go.

She had spent so much time focusing on Charles that she hadn’t fully considered what this place meant. The mansion wasn’t just a school. It was a sanctuary. A place where kids like Josh could grow into themselves without fear of rejection, of losing control.

It wasn’t so different from Afterlife. The settings were night and day – one hidden away in the mountains, the other an estate nestled in the New York countryside – but at their core, they were the same. Both places had been built as refuges, as safe havens for exceptional people who had nowhere else to turn.

And somehow, in the span of just a few months, Moira had become entangled in the fate of both.

Jiaying had entrusted her with the safety of Afterlife. And now, standing in the heart of Xavier’s school, surrounded by students who had put their faith in Charles to guide them, she felt the weight of this place settle on her just as heavily. What happened here mattered. Keeping the doors open mattered.

“You’re still up for that dance, I hope?”

She turned to find Charles beside her, holding out a hand. His expression was open, almost boyish as if they hadn’t just spent the afternoon pulling apart the foundations of their relationship.

She hesitated just long enough for Sean – who was clearly paying attention to their interaction – to smirk and change the record.

The lively tune shifted to something slower, unmistakably romantic.

Charles let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Subtle.”

Moira huffed, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “We could just sit back down.”

“We could,” Charles agreed. “But then Sean would win.”

Neither of them wanted to give him that satisfaction.

So, with a roll of her eyes, Moira took Charles’ hand, letting him guide her to the open space near the fireplace.

It wasn’t a grand waltz or anything particularly dramatic. Just a slow, familiar sway.

“You’ll call?” Charles asked after a moment.

Moira sighed. “Yes, Charles.”

He smiled slightly. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“Alex already volunteered.”

Charles hummed. “May I come along?”

She glanced up at him. He was studying her carefully, his grip steady but light, waiting for her answer.

She could have said no. Could have drawn a line, kept things neat. But the truth was, things had never been neat between them.

She nodded. “Alright.”

Charles’ shoulders relaxed slightly. They didn’t say anything after that, just moved in slow circles, listening to the soft melody of the record player.

It wasn’t perfect.

But, for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t hopeless either.

Still, as Moira rested her chin briefly against Charles’ shoulder, her mind drifted back to the weight at her side – the crystal hidden in her pocket.

She wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Chapter Text

Moira had barely stepped off the plane before she was swept up in the rhythm of S.H.I.E.L.D. again.

She hadn’t had time to fully process leaving the mansion – not the way Charles had lingered outside the airport with her and Alex, nor the quiet squeeze of his hand before he pulled away. Not the way Alex had hugged her, his usual teasing subdued.

She had promised to check in. She would.

But now, standing in the expansive lobby of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, she was already thinking about what awaited her.

Two reports. Two sanctuaries. One she had been entrusted with, the other she had taken upon herself to protect. She believed in S.H.I.E.L.D. and believed they could be a force for good in both cases, but the burden of keeping Afterlife and the X-Mansion safe still pressed heavily on her shoulders. And then there was the crystal.

Moira clenched her jaw, adjusting the strap of her bag as Peggy approached.

“Welcome back," Peggy said smoothly, but her gaze was sharp, assessing. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Moira answered automatically.

Peggy arched a brow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve been in the field longer than expected. And considering Honduras was your first mission…”

Moira rolled her shoulders, willing the tension from them. “I’m fine,” she repeated, firmer this time.

Peggy gave a considering hum. “I knew when we met that you would be an exceptional agent,” she said, tone measured. “But even the best agent needs help.” She met Moira’s eyes, her voice gentler now. “I’m still your S.O., whether we’re in the training room or not. You can always come to me.”

The words landed heavier than Moira expected. She nodded once. “I know.”

Peggy studied her for a moment longer, then – seemingly satisfied – shifted back into business.

“The board is assembling at noon to hear your debrief,” she said, leading Moira towards the elevators. “In the meantime, Dante is waiting for you in one of the conference rooms.”

Moira exhaled, nodding. “Is Howard here yet?”

Peggy glanced at her. “He should be soon. Why?”

Moira hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “If you and Howard could both join me and Dante before the meeting, I think it’d be a good idea for us to all talk together.”

Peggy didn’t question it. “Alright,” she said, then added as an afterthought, “Jason’s in the building too.”

Moira’s lips twitched at her partiality. “He’d be a good addition.”

Peggy’s expression softened just slightly. “He usually is,” she said, the barest hint of fondness in her tone.

With that, she stepped away, heading off to find Howard and Jason while Moira exhaled, steeling herself before stepping inside to see Dante.

Moira stepped into the conference room, barely getting a glance at the files spread across the table before Dante practically launched out of his chair.

“You’re back!” He grinned. “Finally.”

She smirked. “It’s been a week.”

“Yeah, but it felt longer. You left me alone with Stark.”

Moira let out a short laugh. “Poor you. I’m sure that was unbearable.”

Dante collapsed back into his chair with a dramatic sigh. “You have no idea. He and his guys – Jason and Aloysius? They’re insane. In a good way, mostly, but still. They think my powers are ‘cool.’” He made air quotes, looking both pleased and vaguely bewildered.

Moira shook her head. “Great. That’s all I need – more people hyping you up. Howard’s going to give you an overinflated ego.”

Dante smirked. “It’s a little late for that.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile. He looked better, much more relaxed than when they first met. He had been adjusting to S.H.I.E.L.D. in her absence, and judging by the way he talked about Howard’s team, he was settling in well.

His expression sobered slightly. “So, what were you up to? Everything good?”

Moira hesitated before sitting across from him. “We’ll get to that later. First, I need to be honest about something that happened at Afterlife.”

Dante frowned, sitting up straighter. “Okay.”

“I didn’t keep it from you because I don’t trust you,” she said, meeting his eyes. “It was unexpected, and I wanted to wait until I was at S.H.I.E.L.D. before talking about it.”

Dante’s concern flickered into curiosity. “Alright. So what happened?”

Before she could answer, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Moira exhaled, straightening in her chair. “We’ll pick this up in a minute.”

The door swung open, and Howard strolled in like he owned the place.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he quipped, throwing his arms out dramatically.

Dante immediately brightened. “Stark!”

Moira sighed. “God help me.”

Dante and Howard instantly fell into an easy banter, Howard clapping him on the shoulder while rattling off some absurd story about Aloysius nearly setting fire to the lab. Dante was grinning, firing back with his own exaggerations, and Moira got the distinct impression that Peggy and Jason were now bearing witness to some kind of ridiculous mentor-protégé reunion.

Peggy sighed, folding her arms. “You two have been apart for an hour.”

Howard scoffed. “Yeah, and?”

Peggy shot Moira a look that said this is your fault. Moira just shook her head.

Jason cleared his throat, stepping fully inside. “We about ready to begin?”

Peggy clapped her hands together, bringing the room to order. “Alright, gentlemen. Enough mischief. We’ve got business to discuss.”

Howard sighed dramatically but took his seat, nudging Dante as if to say, we’ll finish this later.

Moira took a breath. It was time to talk.

Moira folded her hands on the table, glancing at Dante first. “Have you already told them about the people at Afterlife?”

Dante nodded. “Yeah. I told them everything I knew. How they live, how they keep themselves hidden. That Jiaying runs the place.”

“Did you mention Fatima?”

Peggy leaned forward slightly. “Fatima?”

Dante shifted in his chair. “She’s another Inhuman. Her ability lets her sense other people’s powers.”

Moira picked up where he left off. “Not just active ones, but potential too. She can look at someone and know if they have the potential to undergo Terrigenesis. If they could become an Inhuman.” She paused, watching their reactions.

Jason furrowed his brow. “That’s useful.”

“More than useful,” Howard muttered. “If they knew who would actually change, why attack the diner in the first place? Seems like a waste of resources to go after everyone when they could just pick out the ones who’d transform.”

Dante frowned. “Because that wasn’t the plan. The person who did it went rogue. Terrigenesis is supposed to happen at Afterlife. That’s where they keep the crystals. They don’t just leave them lying around in random diners.” His jaw tightened.

Moira exhaled. “That’s not the case anymore.”

Dante’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, Moira reached into her bag, fingers brushing against the cloth before carefully pulling it out. She unwrapped the small bundle and placed the crystal in the centre of the table.

The room went silent.

Howard leaned in, eyes sharp with interest. Jason’s expression darkened slightly, his focus entirely on the crystal. Peggy was the only one who didn’t react outright, but Moira could see the way her shoulders tensed.

The crystal sat innocuously in the centre of the cloth, a smooth column of deep blue, the tipped end catching the overhead light in a way that made it gleam. It was deceptively beautiful, almost glasslike in its clarity, but the moment she unwrapped it, a subtle thrum of energy seemed to pulse from its core.

Moira wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she swore she could feel it vibrating in the air between them, a whisper of something alive beneath its surface. Dante must have felt it too – she saw the way his shoulders stiffened, how his fingers twitched against the table.

Her own reaction was worse.

The longer she looked at it, the stronger the voice in the back of her mind became. Not words exactly, but an instinctive pull, something urging her – touch it. Hold it. Keep it close. It wasn’t safe sitting out like this, not exposed on a table under the eyes of people who didn’t understand what it meant.

Her fingers curled into her palm.

She was not going to reach for it.

Moira exhaled slowly, forcing herself to meet Dante’s gaze. He inhaled sharply. “Is that…?”

Moira nodded. “Jiaying gave it to me.”

Howard let out a low whistle. “Well, shit.”

Jason frowned. “Why?”

Moira hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “She said it was my choice.”

Dante’s mouth opened slightly, realisation dawning in his eyes.

Peggy finally spoke, her voice measured. “You could become one of them.”

Moira nodded once. “Apparently. If I wanted to.”

Another beat of silence.

Howard exhaled. “Okay. Well, that’s one hell of a leaving gift.”

Moira met his gaze. “That’s why I wanted to talk to all of you before the debrief.”

Jason’s eyes hadn’t left the crystal. “It’s active?”

“Yes.”

Peggy steepled her fingers. “Have you made a decision?”

Moira’s fingers twitched slightly, but she kept her hands folded in her lap. “Not yet.”

Howard dragged a hand through his hair, glancing at Dante. “Alright, Inferno. You’ve been through this. If Moira smashed that thing right now, what happens?”

Dante swallowed. “It’s not instant. It takes a few minutes. First, you feel…” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Look, it’s intense. The transformation, I mean. They already told me there’s no going back. Once the dormant gene is activated it can’t be turned off again.”

Moira nodded, absorbing his words. She already knew, but hearing it from him made it feel heavier.

Jason exhaled, leaning back. “So, what do you want us to do?”

Moira glanced at the crystal again. “Help me figure out where we go from here.”

Aloysius folded his arms, nodding toward the crystal. “Well, for starters, what do we think Jiaying actually wants?”

“She gave it to me,” Moira said. “Not as a test, exactly, but to give me a choice.”

Peggy’s brow furrowed. “A choice for what, exactly?”

Moira exhaled. “To go through Terrigenesis. To understand what it means to be Inhuman before making any judgments.”

Howard let out a low whistle. “So she thinks if you had powers, you’d automatically be on their side?”

“That’s part of it,” Moira admitted. “But she also wanted to make sure someone in S.H.I.E.L.D. had the Inhumans’ best interests at heart.”

Jason hummed, considering. “And you think she’d work with us if you went through with it?”

“She told me she’d only be willing to work with us if she knew someone here had their best interests at heart. Since Dante isn’t an agent…”

“Yet,” Dante interjected, crossing his arms.

Moira smirked slightly but continued, “She saw me as an alternative. Apparently, if I was Inhuman, I couldn’t possibly be trying to exploit them.”

Howard leaned back, smirking. “So she thinks if you had powers, you’d be one of them?”

“Yes. But I don’t think she’d force me through Terrigenesis like Dante was.” Moira glanced at him, seeing his jaw tighten. “She said it’s important to have a choice, to be prepared for the transformation. She was angry that wasn’t given to you. And to the others who were attacked.”

Peggy leaned forward slightly. “These other attacks they mentioned – did you learn anything about them?”

Moira shook her head. “Not much. They’re still being guarded with me. But that’s why we need to make a decision about the crystal.”

A beat of silence followed before Howard grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Look, I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. Don’t we all want to know what cool powers you’d get?”

Moira shot him a flat look. “That’s what you’re taking from this?”

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugged. “Did Fatima say what you’d get?”

“No. She can only tell if someone has the potential, not what the outcome will be.”

Moira let that settle between them, but her gaze drifted back to the crystal. The small stone sat harmlessly in the cloth, motionless, waiting.

Was that all it took? One choice?

Jiaying had framed it as something simple. Something natural. But Moira had seen firsthand how life-altering the transformation was. She had seen how it could give someone like Gordon the ability to teleport but at the cost of his sight. She had seen what it had done to Dante, how it had ripped him away from everything he had known, turned his entire world into something unrecognisable.

And yet… she couldn’t ignore the pull.

She caught herself staring at the crystal, her fingers twitching slightly with the urge to reach out. The weight of it by her side had been ever-present since she left Afterlife, and now that it was out in the open, it felt even stronger.

You just told Charles to be true to himself.

The thought hit her hard. If she truly believed that – if she truly believed that people needed to embrace who they were – then was she being a hypocrite?

No. She had a choice. That was the difference.

She inhaled sharply, forcing her attention back to the room as Peggy, ever practical, broke the silence.

“It’s important not to rush into things.”

“But we don’t have time to sit on this forever.” Moira leaned forward. “There’s still a rogue Inhuman out there attacking people. If we want to stop that from happening again, we need to work with Afterlife.”

Dante sat up straighter. “I can go.”

Peggy gave him a measured look. “Dante, you’ve made incredible progress, but you’re still new to this. You didn’t come into S.H.I.E.L.D. with the experience Moira had. It’s not just about knowing your own power, it’s about knowing how to handle situations like this. We need to move forward carefully. Diplomatically.”

Dante pressed his lips together, but he didn’t argue.

Jason, who had been quiet so far, cleared his throat. “We should study the crystal.”

Dante stiffened. “No.”

All eyes turned to him.

His fingers curled into fists. “If you accidentally trigger it, innocent people die. Again.” His voice was tight and controlled, but Moira didn’t miss the weight behind that last word.

Like his mom did.

The room went quiet.

Moira reached out, resting her hand lightly on his arm. “No one’s going to do anything reckless. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Dante exhaled slowly, nodding.

Jason sighed, tapping his fingers against the table. “We need to keep this between us for now. If word gets out that we have an active crystal, it won’t stay in your hands for long.”

Howard rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine. No poking at it in the lab. Happy?”

Dante didn’t look fully reassured, but he nodded.

Peggy pressed her hands flat on the table. “This room. It goes no further.”

Moira met her gaze and nodded. “Agreed.”

Peggy’s sharp eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, then she inhaled. “Is there anything else we need to know? About the Inhumans – or about the mutants?”

Moira hesitated, glancing once more at the crystal before exhaling. “There’s something else. About the crystal.”

She felt their collective attention shift, Peggy watching with quiet expectation, Jason already looking intrigued, Howard tapping his fingers idly against the table like he was waiting for something exciting.

“I can feel it,” Moira admitted. “Not just in the way Dante did – it’s stronger. Jiaying told me people with the gene have an instinctive pull to Terrigenesis, something ingrained to make sure the process is activated. But it’s getting worse. The longer I have it, the more I feel like I can’t let it go.”

There was a moment of silence before Jason spoke. “We’ll take it to the lab. Study it properly.”

Moira pressed her lips together. “I don’t think I can let it out of my sight.”

Howard scoffed. “Oh, well, that’s easy then. We’re taking you to the lab too.”

She shot him a look, but he only grinned in response.

Peggy, however, was glancing at the clock. “You don’t have time to hover over it just yet. Your debrief is in ten minutes.” She arched a brow. “And I believe you have some updates to give them about the mutants.”

Moira exhaled sharply. “Right. Charles. After I left last time, he started taking a serum that Hank developed,” she explained. “It restored his ability to walk – but at the cost of his telepathy.”

Howard sat up. “Hold on, hold on. You’re telling me some guy managed to chemically suppress one of the most powerful minds on the planet? And you’re only bringing this up now?”

Moira sighed. “Not the point, Howard.”

“No, but it’s a hell of a side point,” Jason added, his own interest piqued. “I’d be interested to see McCoy’s work. If he’s cracked that level of neurological alteration, that’s…” He trailed off, thoughtful.

“Anyway,” she continued, steering the conversation back, “Raven was there too. She snuck in, disguised as one of the students. I overheard her talking to Hank. Erik’s still around, but Charles seems to be seriously thinking about working with S.H.I.E.L.D. now. So we’re making progress.”

Peggy hummed, then leaned back in her chair with a knowing look. “Let me guess? He’ll work with S.H.I.E.L.D. if you’re the one he works with?”

Moira didn’t answer right away.

“You’re going to spread yourself thin trying to balance two groups like this,” Peggy said matter-of-factly.

Moira sighed. “Then Dante better get his head down in training.”

Peggy brushed aside the joke. “You need extra support. You told them you’d be back, and next time, you’re not going alone.” She levelled Moira with a firm look. “I’m coming with you.”

Howard sat up. “Well, in that case, so am I.”

Moira blinked. “What?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I like mutants. They make science more fun.”

Moira shook her head, exhaling. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, we have a debrief to get to.”

She turned to Dante, who was still eyeing the crystal warily. “You up for a job?”

He straightened immediately. “Yeah?”

“Take the crystal down to the lab. Keep it wrapped.” She met his gaze, adding quietly, “It shouldn’t affect you since you’ve already gone through Terrigenesis, but don’t take any chances.”

Dante nodded, carefully folding the cloth back over the crystal before tucking it under his arm.

The pull eased the moment he covered the glimmering stone. Moira exhaled without meaning to, her shoulders loosening slightly. It was still there, at the edge of her awareness, but muted – like a whisper behind glass instead of a voice in her ear.

Her gaze flicked to Dante, watching for any sign of reaction, but he remained steady. Maybe because he was already Inhuman, the crystal had nothing left to offer him. Or maybe, Moira thought uneasily, it had simply stopped calling to him once it found another potential candidate.

Shaking the thought away, she turned back to the others. “We’ll meet you in the lab after the debrief.”

Dante nodded once before heading for the lower levels. Moira forced herself to follow Peggy and Howard toward the boardroom, resisting the urge to glance back.

Chapter Text

Moira walked into the lab to find Jason and Aloysius already deep in their analysis. The crystal sat inside a containment pod, glowing faintly under the overhead lights. Measurement devices surrounded it, screens displaying various readings.

Howard was leaning over one of the monitors, brow furrowed. “Well, this is a first. No radiation, no heat, no identifiable energy signatures. It’s like this thing is just sitting there doing absolutely nothing.”

Jason, arms crossed, nodded toward the pod. “Except we know it’s not. Whatever energy it emits isn’t being picked up by conventional means.”

Moira exhaled, stepping closer. Even through the reinforced glass, she felt the crystal. A subtle pull, something deep in her gut. It wasn’t like standing next to a weapon or some classified tech – it was something personal, something whispering to her like an open invitation. She saw Dante shift uncomfortably at her side, his fingers twitching.

“You feel it too,” she murmured.

He swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Less than before, but yeah. I don’t need to touch it, not like you. But I feel like I need to… I don’t know…”

“Protect it?” Moira suggested.

“Yeah.”

Peggy watched them both, expression unreadable. “Jiaying said it’s supposed to feel like this, didn’t she?”

Moira nodded, rubbing the back of her neck. “She said it’s a biological response. People with the gene are drawn to it so they activate the process.” She frowned slightly. “But it’s getting stronger. I thought it was just psychological at first, but now…”

Howard arched a brow. “And you’re still keeping that thing in your pocket?”

Moira shot him a look. “Not anymore.”

Jason sighed. “Look, we can analyse it all we want, but we’re not going to get real answers until we understand what triggers the transformation. That’s not something we can replicate in a lab.”

Dante stiffened. “Yeah, let’s not.”

Aloysius pushed his glasses up, glancing at Dante sympathetically. “You were exposed without warning, weren’t you?”

Dante nodded. “Yeah. And so was everyone in that diner. And most of them died.”

Silence settled over the group for a beat.

Peggy, ever practical, pressed her hands on the table. “Alright. Let’s focus. We need to decide our next move.”

Howard leaned against the counter. “So far, we’ve kept this whole thing quiet. But we can’t sit on it forever. We either work with Jiaying or we lock this thing away and pretend we never saw it. It can go in the fridge.”

Dante looked at Moira.

“High-security facility.” She explained out of the corner of her mouth.

“Do you know how to arrange another meeting?” Jason asked.

Moira folded her arms, considering Jason’s question. “Dante can call for Gordon. He’ll take us back to Afterlife.”

Jason arched a brow. “That simple?”

Dante nodded. “Jiaying said we were welcome anytime.” He hesitated, glancing at Moira. “If we go, are we telling her about the crystal?”

Moira’s fingers twitched slightly at her side, resisting the urge to glance back at the containment pod. “I don’t know yet.”

Peggy exhaled. “It might be wise, at the very least, to open a conversation about this rogue Inhuman. If Jiaying’s people know more than they’re letting on, we need to find out.”

Jason, who had been quiet for the past few minutes, finally spoke. “They might already know more than they’re saying.” He tapped the side of his tablet. “I pulled up some records while you were in the debrief. There have been at least four suspected incidents in North America over the last six months. Not including the diner attack.”

Moira frowned. “Where?”

Jason flicked through his notes. “Colorado, Tennessee, British Columbia and one in Mexico, just across the California border. The details are vague, but there’s a pattern – each time, there were reports of an unnatural mist, followed by casualties. No survivors have gone on record, and no one knows why the attacks are happening.”

Dante’s jaw tightened. “There has to be a reason.”

Howard sighed. “Yeah, well, good luck getting answers from a guy who turns people into statues.”

“We know Gordon has been going after the survivors and taking them back to Afterlife. He didn’t get to Dante on the day of the attack because they were overwhelmed with new people. Jiaying wouldn’t let me interview any of them…”

“I spoke to one person,” Dante said suddenly.

Moira’s gaze snapped to him. “You did?”

Dante nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “They were just as confused as I was. Said they were in a grocery store when the mist hit. One second, everything was normal. The next, people were screaming, choking, collapsing. They didn’t know what was happening. Just… that it was over in seconds.” He swallowed. “Then Gordon showed up. Took them to Afterlife.”

Peggy’s brow furrowed. “So the goal isn’t to collect the new Inhumans, then.”

Jason caught on. “Otherwise, whoever’s doing this would take them instead of running after.”

A tense silence settled over the group.

Moira drummed her fingers against her arm, her mind already running through the possibilities. “We need more information.”

Jason nodded. “We need to figure out the motive. Otherwise, we’ll never get ahead of this.”

Peggy crossed her arms, gaze sharp. “Then maybe it’s time we paid Jiaying a visit.”

Moira exhaled slowly, glancing at the crystal one last time before nodding. “Agreed.”

Moira exhaled sharply. “We need to contact Gordon.”

Peggy’s brow furrowed. “Would he even come here? To S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters?”

Jason shook his head. “Doubtful. If Jiaying is as cautious as you say, she won’t let him step foot inside a government facility. Too many risks.”

Howard leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “So, let’s take this somewhere else. I’ve got a private lab offsite – completely secure, no paper trails, no nosy board members sticking their heads in.” He nodded toward the crystal. “And we can keep that thing off the official books.”

Moira considered it. The last thing they needed was for word to spread through S.H.I.E.L.D. about an active Terrigen crystal. If the wrong person found out, someone might try to steal it – or worse, accidentally activate it. There were too many people working in the lab who had no idea what they were dealing with. And if Gordon did come, it would be safer to meet him somewhere neutral, away from prying eyes and potential risks.

“Alright,” she said. “We take the crystal and move this to your lab.”

Peggy nodded. “We’ll split up. Smaller groups, less suspicion.”

“I’ll stay here,” Samberly volunteered. “Keep an eye on things, make sure it doesn’t look like half the lab just vanished.”

“I’ve got another meeting with the board,” Peggy said, checking her watch. “Howard’s coming with me.”

Howard pulled a face. “Oh, lucky me.”

“You’re the one who suggested this plan,” Peggy reminded him dryly.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved her off, then looked at Jason. “You know the way to the lab. You take Moira and Dante ahead.”

Peggy pulled a set of keys from her pocket and handed them to Jason. “Be careful,” she said pointedly. “You’re not a field agent. Follow Moira’s lead until she gets there.”

Jason took the keys, rolling his eyes. “Yes, dear.”

Dante, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, smirked. “What’s that about?”

Moira smirked slightly. “They’re married.”

Dante blinked. “Wait – seriously?”

Jason shot him a look. “What, you don’t see it?”

“I mean… I kinda do, now.”

Peggy ignored them, already moving to collect her things. “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Moira turned back to the crystal, reaching for it – then stopped.

The pull was stronger now. Almost overwhelming. Her fingers twitched with the need to touch it, to hold it, to feel its energy against her skin.

She clenched her jaw and took a deliberate step back.

“Dante,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “You take it.”

Dante hesitated but nodded, carefully wrapping the crystal in the cloth before tucking it into his jacket. Moira exhaled slowly, shaking off the lingering temptation as she followed Jason outside.

They had work to do.

The drive through Washington was uneventful if a little tense. Dante sat in the back, his knee bouncing as he kept one hand firmly pressed over the wrapped crystal. Moira could feel its presence even now, like an itch just beneath her skin. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the road, gripping the wheel a little tighter than necessary.

Jason, seated beside her, was relaxed in comparison. He hummed along to the radio, fingers tapping lightly against his knee. If he noticed the way Moira kept flexing her fingers against the steering wheel, he didn’t comment.

After about thirty minutes, he directed her off the main road, guiding her through a quiet, tree-lined suburb. The houses were grand but unassuming, the kind of properties that screamed old money but not attention-seeking wealth.

“Here we are,” Jason announced as they pulled up outside what appeared to be another high-end Washington home.

Moira arched a brow. “This is it?”

Jason smirked. “On the surface, yeah. Stark’s not daft. You think he wants a giant neon sign that says, ‘Secret Lab Here’?”

Dante peered out of the window, unimpressed. “Looks old.”

Jason just grinned and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out what looked like a standard garage door remote. He pressed the button, and a moment later, the driveway in front of them shifted. The pristine brick surface split apart seamlessly, revealing a sleek, hidden ramp leading underground.

Moira let out a low whistle. “Alright, I’ll admit – that’s impressive.”

Jason chuckled. “I asked Peggy if we could install one in our garden. She told me to dream on.”

Moira shook her head, steering the car onto the descending ramp. The moment they were inside, the ground above sealed itself again, leaving no trace of an entrance.

The lab itself was unmistakably Stark’s. The underground space was vast, every surface gleaming with polished steel and glass. Large, high-tech workstations lined the walls, each equipped with cutting-edge equipment that Moira didn’t even attempt to name. Fluorescent lighting cast a bright, sterile glow over everything, and the air smelled faintly of coolant and metal.

Dante let out a low whistle. “Yeah, alright. This is nice.”

Moira pulled into an open space marked for vehicles, cutting the engine. She turned to Dante, her gaze flicking to the bundle in his hands. “Alright. Let’s get inside and see what other toys Howard has here.”

Dante grinned. “Think he’s got a secret jet stashed away?”

Jason smirked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “If he does, he hasn’t let me borrow it yet.”

Moira shot him a look. “Should I be concerned about how many of Stark’s inventions you have borrowed?”

Jason opened his door with an innocent shrug. “You can prove nothing.”

Dante snorted, adjusting the bundle under his arm as he stepped out of the car. The second they entered the lab, the overhead lights flickered on automatically, illuminating the sleek surfaces and intricate machinery. The space felt both clinical and strangely homey in a way only Stark could manage – half high-tech facility, half extravagant playground for an overenthusiastic genius.

Moira glanced at Dante, her attention briefly flicking to the bundle in his hands. The pull of the crystal thrummed faintly in her gut, and she forced herself to look away.

Dante shifted uneasily. “Should I call for Gordon?”

Moira froze. Something in her instincts screamed that if Dante so much as whispered Gordon’s name, he’d simply be there. She scanned the room sharply as if expecting him to materialise out of thin air like the bogeyman.

Nothing.

She exhaled, pushing the tension from her shoulders. “Not yet. Let’s wait for the others.”

Dante hesitated but nodded. Jason, watching the exchange with mild curiosity, clapped his hands together. “Right, let’s get that thing stored.”

He led them towards another secured section of the lab, inputting a code on the keypad. The reinforced doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a secondary containment area. Unlike the larger workspaces, this was smaller and reinforced, designed to hold sensitive or potentially hazardous materials. Jason stepped inside and retrieved another containment pod, similar to the one at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Dante hesitated before handing over the crystal. Moira caught the briefest flicker of reluctance on his face, and she understood it all too well. When Jason finally sealed the pod, she felt herself subconsciously relax.

Jason arched a brow. “Better?”

Moira cleared her throat, avoiding his knowing look. “Just making sure it’s secure.”

Jason hummed but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he set the pod in a reinforced case, locking it into place. “Right. I’ll go let Jarvis know we’re here before Stark waltzes in and assumes we’re trying to rob the place.”

Dante shot Moira an amused glance. “He’d probably help us, to be fair.”

She rolled her eyes even though that summed up Howard’s butler incredibly well. “Just go.”

Jason disappeared down one of the corridors, leaving Moira and Dante to head towards the sitting area. Unlike the futuristic lab, this space was surprisingly modern and comfortable – low-slung furniture, warm lighting and a sleek, minimalist aesthetic. A far cry from the traditional, stuffy interiors of most Washington mansions.

Dante flopped onto one of the couches, stretching out like he owned the place. “Yeah, alright. This is nice.”

Moira smirked, taking a seat across from him.

“You took your time,” a voice murmured from nowhere.

Moira barely managed to keep herself from jumping, but Dante wasn’t as composed. He yelped and rolled off the couch.

Gordon stood near the doorway, arms folded, head tilted slightly.

Moira exhaled, giving him a dry look. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

Gordon smirked faintly. “Only when I’m curious.” His expression sobered as his gaze landed on Dante. “Why did you call me? Are you in trouble already?”

Dante scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Already? Give me some credit.”

Gordon remained unimpressed, his gaze flicking between them, waiting for an explanation.

Moira leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We’ve done some digging. There have been at least four other events similar to what happened to Dante. The same mist, the same aftermath. Do you know who’s behind it?”

Gordon’s expression didn’t change. “That isn’t information I can share.”

Moira inhaled slowly, keeping her frustration in check. “Then I’d like to speak with Jiaying again. Will you ask her?”

Gordon studied her for a long moment. She could practically feel the distrust rolling off him, the weight of his silence pressing down on the room.

Finally, he gave a curt nod. “I’ll see what she says.”

Before Moira could say anything else, blue light crackled around him, swallowing his form in an instant.

She exhaled sharply, leaning back in her seat. Even the colour blue made her think about the crystal, and she clenched her jaw, shaking her head as if she could physically dislodge the thoughts.

Dante caught the movement. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Moira forced herself to focus. “We wait for his answer. In the meantime, let’s have a look around and see if Stark really does have a jet down here.”

Dante grinned and leapt to his feet.

Moira barely made it a few steps before the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the sleek, modern staircase.

Jason reappeared, and behind him, a familiar figure followed – upright posture, perfectly pressed suit and an air of long-suffering patience. Edwin Jarvis.

“Ah,” Jarvis said smoothly, barely glancing at Jason before shifting his focus to Moira. “Miss MacTaggert, what an unexpected pleasure.”

Moira smirked. “Last time we met, you were dangling out of a helicopter with a picnic basket.”

Dante blinked, looking between them. “What?”

Jarvis exhaled through his nose, looking mildly put out. “I told Mr Stark it was an unnecessary display.”

“Yet you still did it,” came a lilting, Hungarian-accented voice from the top of the stairs.

Moira turned to see a red-haired woman in a floral dress descending gracefully.

Ana Jarvis smiled at them all before fixing her gaze on her husband. “How many times have I said not to indulge your employer’s whims, drága?”

Jarvis turned slightly pink. “In my defence, he did enjoy the pastries.”

Ana rolled her eyes fondly before turning to Moira and extending a hand. “You must be Agent MacTaggert.”

Moira shook it, momentarily caught off guard by Ana’s warmth.

“And this,” Ana continued, glancing at Dante, “must be the young man my husband has been going on about since breakfast.”

Dante raised a brow, amused. “I have a reputation already?”

Jarvis nodded solemnly. “Mr Stark has been quite taken with you.”

“Should I be worried?” Moira muttered under her breath.

Ana heard her and laughed, looping her arm through Jarvis’. “If you aren’t already, you’re too late.”

Dante chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“You certainly seem promising,” Ana said. “And any friend of Mr Stark’s is welcome in our home.”

“Ana this is Mr Stark’s home.” Jarvis corrected.

“We are here more than he is.” She countered.

Moira was about to respond when the doors at the far end of the room burst open.

Howard Stark strolled in beside Peggy, grinning like he was in trouble.

Moira frowned. “That was fast.”

Peggy shot Howard a withering look. “He pulled the fire alarm.”

Moira sighed. “Of course he did.”

“Luckily,” Peggy continued, rubbing her temple, “everyone is used to his particular brand of nonsense. I told the board I’d escort him outside before he disrupted anything else.”

Howard spread his arms, looking far too pleased with himself. “And here I am. Problem solver, genius, master of getting out of meetings…"

Peggy gave him a warning glare.

Howard coughed. …dedicated member of this fine organisation.”

Only Ana laughed.

Jarvis cleared his throat. “On that note, perhaps some tea is in order?”

Ana patted his arm. “You always think tea is in order.”

Moira smirked, but before she could respond, the phone in the hall rang sharply.

Jarvis excused himself to answer it, his voice as polished as ever. “Stark residence… Yes, of course. One moment.” He returned a second later, holding the receiver out to Peggy. “It’s for you, Mrs Carter.”

Peggy took the phone with a nod, stepping slightly away as she listened. Her expression remained neutral at first, but Moira caught the flicker of tension in her shoulders.

“What is it?” Moira asked, already bracing herself.

Peggy exhaled slowly before lowering the receiver. “There’s been another attack.”

The room went still.

Jason frowned. “Where?”

“Washington state,” Peggy answered. “A small community outside Seattle. Witness reports describe a heavy mist rolling in before several victims were found – solidified, turned to stone.”

Dante stiffened. “That’s what happened to my mom.”

Howard crossed his arms, his earlier amusement gone. “Same attacker?”

Moira’s jaw tightened. “If it is, he’s getting bolder.”

Peggy met her gaze. “What do we do?”

“We already contacted Gordon. We’re waiting for him to talk to Jiaying. If anyone has insight into this, it’s her.”

Peggy nodded. “How long until we hear from him?”

Moira exhaled, glancing at Dante. “Could be minutes, could be hours. He doesn’t exactly operate on a schedule.”

“In the meantime, we need boots on the ground in Washington,” Jason said, already thinking ahead. “If this is the same person, we can start gathering evidence before they disappear again.”

Moira straightened. “I should go.”

Peggy gave her a measured look. “No, you need to wait for Gordon. If we’re going to Afterlife, that’s the priority.”

Dante frowned. “I want to go too.”

Howard slung an arm around Dante’s shoulders. “Kid, I don’t think Carter’s gonna sign off on that one.”

Peggy didn’t even hesitate. “No, I’m not. You’re staying here.”

Dante scowled but didn’t argue.

Jason grabbed his jacket. “Alright, I’ll go to Washington. I’ll check in once I know more.”

Jarvis straightened. “I’ll arrange for transport.”

Ana looped her arm through his, already leading him towards the stairs. “Come, Edwin, let’s drive him to the airport. It will be nice to catch up again Jason.”

Jason shot Peggy a nod before following them up.

That left the rest of them waiting.

Howard rocked back on his heels. “So, how do we…”

A sudden shift in air pressure cut him off.

Gordon was standing in the room.

Moira exhaled slowly. “That was fast.”

Gordon tilted his head. “You’re always welcome at Afterlife.” The words were clipped; rehearsed.

Moira arched a brow. “That’s very generous of you.”

Peggy stepped forward before anyone else could respond. “Peggy Carter,” she introduced herself, extending a hand. Gordon’s gaze flicked to it, then to her. He hesitated, then shook it once, briskly.

“Charmed,” Peggy said dryly, withdrawing.

Moira opened her mouth to ask when they were leaving, but Gordon disappeared. Then, a heartbeat later, he was back – this time holding the crystal.

Moira tensed. “It’s fine. Dante can watch it.”

Gordon ignored her. “We’re not leaving it here.”

Before Moira could argue, he reached out and grabbed her wrist – and the world dissolved in a flash of blue. When it reemerged, she staggered slightly, the cool mountain air pressing against her skin. The sudden shift in atmosphere sent a shiver down her spine as she exhaled sharply, grounding herself.

Then she realised she wasn’t alone.

A sharp intake of breath came from beside her.

“What the hell?” Howard’s voice rang out, followed by the sound of him brushing dust off his jacket. “A little warning next time, Shades.”

Moira spun, eyes widening as she took in the rest of the group. Peggy was adjusting her coat with a carefully neutral expression. Dante, on the other hand, looked mildly winded, blinking rapidly as he tried to process what had just happened.

Gordon, unsurprisingly, appeared completely at ease.

Moira shot him a look. “You didn’t mention you were taking all of us.”

Gordon’s expression was unreadable. “You were all going to end up here anyway.”

Peggy exhaled, smoothing her coat back into place. “Well. That was efficient.”

Howard let out a low whistle, glancing around. “Huh. Not bad.”

Moira glanced at the familiar buildings ahead, her jaw tightening.

They were here. Now, they had to find out what Jiaying knew.

Chapter Text

The air at Afterlife was still, the mountain breeze barely stirring as Moira and her team followed Jiaying towards her office. The village remained as she remembered it – tucked away from the world, self-sufficient, a hidden sanctuary. It felt unchanged, yet she couldn’t ignore the shift in her own presence here. Last time, she had arrived as an outsider. Now, she carried a secret that blurred the lines between them.

Peggy and Howard were introduced with formal pleasantries before Jiaying led them to her office. No children were running between buildings, and no groups were gathered in quiet conversation. It was as if the entire community had retreated out of sight, watching from the shadows. A silent message – Jiaying had brought outsiders into their sanctuary, but that didn’t mean they were trusted.

Moira felt the weight of their stares even when she couldn’t see them. Afterlife had always been a secret, but this was something different. They weren’t just being cautious. They were in hiding.

The moment Jiaying shut the office door, the formalities vanished.

“There’s been another attack,” Moira said, skipping past any preamble.

Jiaying’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I know.”

Moira tensed. “Then you know who’s responsible.”

Jiaying exhaled slowly, considering her words. “I do.”

Moira exchanged a glance with Peggy before turning back. “Then tell us.”

“I will not share that information with S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Jiaying said evenly.

Moira’s fingers curled into fists. “Jiaying, people are dying.”

Jiaying’s expression didn’t waver. “I am aware.”

Howard scoffed, crossing his arms. “And you’re just fine with that?”

Jiaying finally looked at him, her gaze cool. “You assume I condone what’s happening. I don’t. But my first priority is protecting my people. Not yours.”

Moira inhaled sharply. “You don’t have to trust S.H.I.E.L.D. to trust us. We’re here, trying to help.”

Jiaying studied her, something flickering in her expression, but she didn’t respond.

Then Peggy stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “I know why you don’t trust us.”

Jiaying’s eyes flicked to her.

“You were taken,” Peggy continued. “Held captive by Hydra. Tortured, experimented on. You were treated like a weapon instead of a person. I’ve seen what they do.” Her voice remained steady, but something heavy lingered beneath her words. “I fought them myself. And I lost someone I loved to their war.”

Jiaying’s expression didn’t shift, but something about her posture tightened.

“There was a time I thought Hydra had snuffed out all the good in the world,” Peggy went on. “That no matter how hard we fought, evil would always win. But it doesn’t. Because there are people willing to stand up and fight against it. People who believe in something better. And I think you already know that, Jiaying. Otherwise, you never would have given Moira that crystal.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Jiaying’s fingers drummed lightly against the edge of her desk. Then, finally, she said, “I know Hydra is evil. That’s exactly why I cannot trust S.H.I.E.L.D. on its own.”

Moira narrowed her eyes. There was something deliberate about the way she’d phrased that – like there was more to it than she was letting on.

Jiaying exhaled, her gaze settling on Dante. “I will work with you.” Then, after a pause, “Or Moira, if she chooses to become Inhuman.”

A weighted silence filled the room.

Moira’s pulse skipped. The pull of the crystal – of what it meant – suddenly felt even stronger. The weight of Jiaying’s words pressed against her, and for the first time, she felt the choice tightening around her like a noose.

She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to focus. “I need to know more about Terrigenesis.”

Jiaying inclined her head, then turned to Peggy and Howard. “You will wait outside.”

Howard frowned. “Oh, come on, you can’t expect me not to…”

“I’ll take them to the garden.” Dante stood, glancing at Moira before looking back to Jiaying. “If that’s okay?”

Jiaying gave him a nod of gratitude. “Thank you for understanding.”

Peggy hesitated, her expression carefully measured. Then she touched Moira’s arm lightly. “If you need anything…”

“I know.” Moira gave her a small nod before watching them leave. The door shut with a soft click, leaving her alone with Jiaying.

The silence stretched for a moment before Moira exhaled sharply. “This doesn’t feel like a choice.”

Jiaying tilted her head slightly, her gaze unreadable.

“Dante’s too young for something this important to be put on him,” Moira continued. “And with this person out there attacking innocent people, we can’t just sit on our hands. Someone has to act.”

Jiaying’s expression softened slightly. “I don’t mean to make it feel like an obligation,” she said, voice gentler now. “That was never my intention.” She studied Moira for a long moment before finally nodding. “I will tell you everything. You deserve to understand what you are considering before you make a choice.”

Moira swallowed, her throat tight. “Alright.”

Jiaying took a slow breath as if weighing where to begin. Then she spoke.

“The origins of our abilities are not entirely known. But we have existed for centuries, passing down knowledge through generations. When one of us comes into contact with the Terrigen mist, we are encased in a cocoon. During this phase, the latent genes activate. Some emerge unchanged, but most must… adapt.”

Moira’s fingers curled slightly against her thigh. “Adapt how?”

Jiaying’s gaze didn’t waver. “Physically. Mentally. Some instinctively control their abilities upon emerging. Others take time. The adjustment period varies, but we have perfected methods to guide new Inhumans. The change can be unpredictable. Some gain great strength. Others find their senses heightened. Some change in ways far beyond what they expected.”

The meaning hung heavy in the air. Moira knew what Jiaying was saying without needing further explanation. Some transformations weren’t easy. Some weren’t desirable.

Jiaying continued, her voice calm but firm. “It is not just a physical change, Moira. It alters the way you interact with the world and the way the world sees you. Some of us are feared. Some are celebrated. But no one walks away unchanged.”

Moira exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of it settle over her. Jiaying wasn’t trying to convince her – she was preparing her. But there was something missing. A piece of the puzzle Moira hadn’t fully grasped.

Moira said carefully. “You told Dante that Terrigenesis activates a dormant alien cell. That means Inhumans are… alien in origin?”

Jiaying inclined her head. “For generations, we passed down knowledge through observation, through instinct. It is only in the last decade that we have been able to study our DNA closely.”

She leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable. “And what we found confirmed what we had always suspected. The Inhuman gene is not separate from humanity – it is entwined with it. Our genetic structure is unmistakably human, but mixed with something else. Another species.”

Moira straightened, her mind racing.

Jiaying continued, “We don’t know who did this or why. But at some point in our ancestors’ past, something altered them at a fundamental level.”

Moira pressed her lips together, glancing toward the window, at the mountains stretching into the distance. That changed things.

Mutants, from what she knew, were a natural progression of human biology. But this… this was something deliberate. Something engineered.

She turned back. “Can you tell me what my power would be?”

“No.” Jiaying’s voice was gentle. “That is unknown until after Terrigenesis. It is part of the risk we take.”

Moira’s chest tightened. “There are negatives, then.”

Jiaying nodded. “Of course. We are feared, just as mutants are. Some of us change in ways we do not expect.” She hesitated. “I have lived longer than I should. It is a blessing, but also a burden. Going on as the people around you grow old. I’ll outlive most if not all of the Inhumans currently at Afterlife.”

Moira swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet Jiaying’s eyes again. “So it could be anything.”

Jiaying nodded. “Yes. Some emerge with abilities that are easy to grasp, easy to control. Others…” A shadow passed over her expression. “Others take longer to adjust.”

Moira exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself against the storm of thoughts racing through her mind.

“So it’s already in my DNA,” she said, more to herself than Jiaying. “All I’m missing is the crystal.”

“Yes.”

Moira turned fully to face her, studying the woman’s expression, searching for any trace of deception. “Did you give it to me because you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist it?” Her voice was low, edged with something she couldn’t quite name. “You said it was a choice, but was it? Or were you hoping I’d eventually give in?”

Jiaying didn’t look away. “I gave you a choice.”

Moira didn’t respond right away. Jiaying’s tone wasn’t defensive, nor was it pleading – it was firm, certain, unyielding.

Jiaying leaned forward slightly, her hands pressing flat against the desk. “I would never force Terrigenesis on anyone. But not everyone shares that belief.”

A flicker of something dark passed over her expression, and Moira felt it – the restrained anger, the simmering fury beneath Jiaying’s carefully controlled exterior.

“The rogue who did this to Dante, to the others. He didn’t give them a choice,” Jiaying continued, voice tightening. “He exposed them without warning, without preparation. They had no idea what was happening to them. Some of them didn’t survive. Some of them changed in ways they couldn’t comprehend and he abandoned them.” Her jaw clenched. “He left them to wake up to a new reality alone.”

Moira watched her carefully, feeling the weight of her words. Jiaying wasn’t trying to manipulate her. She was furious. She was grieving.

Jiaying took a slow breath, reigning herself back in. “I will never do that to my people,” she said quietly. “And I will not do it to you.”

Silence stretched between them.

Moira let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Jiaying had given her the crystal because she truly believed it was her choice. And that mattered.

But the weight of that choice was suffocating.

Her mind spun with possibilities, fears, implications. If she did this, everything would change. Her body. Her place in the world. Her role at S.H.I.E.L.D. And yet…

She thought of Charles. Of how he had taken something from her without permission, how she had struggled to reclaim herself afterwards. This wasn’t the same. This was her decision.

Jiaying watched her carefully. “What are you afraid of?”

Moira swallowed. “Losing control.”

“You won’t be alone.” Jiaying’s voice was steady. “Listen to the part of you that has been waiting for this. It will unlock your full self.”

Moira’s throat felt tight.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap as Jiaying’s words settled over her, unshakable in their certainty.

Her. Waiting for this. It should have felt arrogant. Presumptuous. But instead, it rattled something loose inside her.

Moira had spent so long fighting against people telling her who she was and who she should be. She had fought to carve out a space for herself at the CIA, pushing through every dismissive look, every condescending remark, every moment someone had underestimated her. Then, after Charles…

She had spent years questioning herself. Not just what had happened, but who she had been. Whether the version of herself she had lost was even real. Had he ever seen her as a person? Or just as a mind to be reshaped, a memory to be rewritten?

And now Jiaying was telling her that this was written into her DNA. That this was who she had always been.

Her stomach twisted.

She hated the idea of being told who she was. And yet…

For years, she had fought to reclaim herself, to become something unshakable, something immovable in the face of people trying to make her less. And now, here she was, standing at the edge of something irreversible, something terrifying, and she had to ask herself – had she ever really been whole?

Moira exhaled sharply, pressing her palms into her thighs.

“I spent a long time trying to figure out who I was,” she said finally, voice quieter than she intended. “After I lost my memories, nothing felt real. I questioned everything – my past, my instincts, my future.” She glanced down. “And now I find out there was something else I didn’t even know to question.”

Jiaying was quiet for a long moment before she said, just as quietly, “Then maybe it’s time you got some answers.”

Moira looked up.

Jiaying held her gaze. There was no push, no expectation – just the weight of possibility.

Moira’s heart pounded.

The choice was hers.

She lifted her chin. “Let’s do it.”

Jiaying nodded. “Then you will stay here.”

Moira swallowed, steadying herself. “How does this work?”

“There is a chamber at Afterlife,” Jiaying explained. “A controlled space where the process can take place safely. Our healers will oversee everything.”

Moira exhaled slowly, bracing herself. “How long will it take?”

“The transformation itself is not long,” Jiaying said. “But this is a transition, Moira. You should expect to be here for at least a week.”

A week.

Moira’s pulse skipped. She had spent years moving from one assignment to the next, never staying in one place too long. But this wasn’t a mission – this was about her.

She hesitated. “The rogue Inhuman is still out there.”

Jiaying’s expression didn’t waver. “And we are not doing nothing.”

Moira studied her. There was a quiet conviction in her voice, a certainty that told Moira she was not taking this threat lightly.

She nodded once. “Alright.”

Jiaying stood, giving her a measured look. “Go and tell your people. I will prepare the chamber.”

Moira took a breath and pushed herself to her feet.

She needed to tell them.

She needed to tell Peggy, Howard, and Dante that they weren’t going home. Not yet.

And she wasn’t coming back the same.

Chapter Text

Moira walked through the gardens of Afterlife, the air crisp with the scent of pine and the lingering chill of mountain wind. The quiet was striking – not just peaceful, but deliberate. No other Inhumans were wandering the grounds, no voices were carrying through the courtyards. It was as if the entire settlement was holding its breath.

She traced the worn stone path beneath her boots, taking in the carefully manicured landscaping. Traditional pavilions stood nestled between flowering trees, their curved rooftops blending seamlessly into the surrounding mountains. A pond reflected the sky, its surface rippling as a soft breeze passed. It was beautiful and calm in a way few places in the world ever felt.

And yet, Moira’s chest was tight.

She spotted her team near the edge of the garden. Dante was lounging on a low stone wall, idly tossing a small rock between his hands, while Howard and Peggy stood close by, deep in quiet conversation.

Moira took a steadying breath and approached.

Peggy caught sight of her first, expression unreadable. “Well?”

Moira hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “I’m doing it.”

Dante sat up immediately, grinning. “No way.” He looked somewhere between delighted and impressed. “That’s… wow. That’s actually happening.”

Howard’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that just made my day a hell of a lot more interesting.”

Peggy, however, studied her carefully. “Are you sure?” Her voice wasn’t sceptical, but measured. She was giving Moira an out, just in case she needed one. “You don’t have to do this.”

Moira met her gaze. “I know.” She exhaled slowly, pressing her hands against the stone wall. “But I’ve done nothing but think about this since Jiaying told me I could be an Inhuman. I know what this means. And I’m choosing it.”

Peggy held her gaze for a long moment before nodding.

Dante, still grinning, leaned forward. “That’s gotta feel good, huh?”

Moira arched a brow.

“You get to decide,” he clarified, more serious now. “I didn’t. The others who were attacked didn’t.” His expression flickered, but he pushed through it. “You get to walk into it with your eyes open.”

Moira’s throat tightened. “Yeah.”

Howard, meanwhile, looked like he was barely containing himself. “Alright, I need details. What exactly are we dealing with here?” He gestured vaguely. “Gas? Lightning? Some kind of mystical energy field?”

“They’re preparing a chamber for the process,” Moira explained.

Howard scoffed. “Great. Love a good ominous chamber. Should I be on standby in case you grow wings or start shooting lasers out of your eyes?”

Moira gave him a flat look. “If that happens, you can have the exclusive interview.”

He didn’t miss a beat, “I’ll be the richest man in the world.”

Dante snorted. “That’s probably the only reason he’s sticking around.”

Howard pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded. Here I am, deeply invested in our friend’s wellbeing, and you think I’m just in it for the fame?”

Moira arched a brow. “Aren’t you?”

Howard grinned. “Fifty-fifty.”

Moira sighed.

Before he could press for more details, a familiar figure approached from the path leading toward the central building.

Lui.

Moira recognised him immediately as Dante’s healer from their last visit. He was older than Jiaying and carried himself with the same quiet authority, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he stopped before them.

He inclined his head. “Moira. You are ready?”

Moira nodded, her stomach knotting.

Lui’s gaze flicked to her team. “You may accompany her to the chamber, but for the safety of the humans in your group, you will not be able to enter.”

Howard raised a hand. “Define safety.”

Lui remained calm. “The mist is unpredictable. Once released, it will seek out those with the gene. But in rare cases, it has been known to react to the presence of certain individuals in unforeseen ways.”

Peggy, ever pragmatic, nodded. “Understood.”

Dante shifted beside Moira. “What about me?”

Lui turned to him. “An Inhuman may undergo Terrigenesis more than once, though it is rare. It would be best if you waited with the others.”

Dante frowned but didn’t argue.

Moira inhaled deeply. “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

Lui gestured for her to follow.

Her team fell in step behind her, and together, they walked forward.

The chamber stood apart from the rest of Afterlife, nestled against the base of the mountain like a forgotten temple. The architecture was striking – dark wooden beams curved into sweeping eaves, latticed windows casting soft, shifting patterns of light across the stone pathway. It was quiet here, removed from the rest of the settlement, and Moira could feel the weight of history pressing in around her.

Lui led the way with steady steps. Moira followed closely, her team flanking her. The closer they got, the more her pulse quickened. The gravity of what she was about to do settled deep in her bones.

Jiaying waited at the entrance.

“This place was built long ago, before my time,” Jiaying said. “Our ancestors recognised the significance of transformation. The chamber is designed to be both a sanctuary and a guide – it focuses the process, keeps the transition stable.”

The large wooden doors were already open as if the chamber itself were waiting for her. The interior was dimly lit, the air thick with something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just incense or old stone: it was energy. Potential.

Lui stepped aside, allowing them to take in the room. The walls were lined with intricate carvings, depictions of figures enveloped in swirling mist, their features shifting, some human, some something else entirely. At the centre of the chamber stood a stone pedestal. On top of it rested the obelisk.

It was smaller than she expected, its brass-like surface catching the candlelight. It looked ancient, its edges worn yet still sharp, still dangerous.

Moira exhaled sharply. The pull of it was immediate, even with the crystals within still contained.

Peggy, Howard and Dante lingered just outside the threshold, where the line between observer and participant was drawn.

“This is where we must part,” Jiaying said gently, turning to them.

Peggy’s lips pressed together, clearly not pleased with the arrangement, but she nodded. “We’ll be right here.”

Howard, for once, looked serious. “No funny business in there, alright?”

Moira smirked. “Define funny business.”

He huffed. “Just try not to explode.”

Dante stepped forward, eyes searching hers. “You’ll be fine,” he said, like he needed to convince himself as much as her.

“I know,” Moira said, and for the first time since she’d made this choice she almost believed it.

With a final glance at her team, she stepped inside. Jiaying followed, and the doors closed behind them.

The chamber felt smaller now, the space between her and the Diviner stretching and condensing all at once.

Jiaying studied her carefully. “You can still walk away.”

Moira squared her shoulders. “No. I’m ready.”

Jiaying inclined her head. “Then all that’s left is to begin.” She gestured to the pedestal. “The Diviner will only open for those with Inhuman genes. You must touch it to activate the process.”

Moira swallowed. Her hands clenched at her sides.

Then, before she could think too hard about it, she reached out and her fingers brushed against the cool metal.

The reaction was instant.

The Diviner pulsed beneath her fingertips, a deep, resonant hum reverberating through the chamber. Moira sucked in a sharp breath as heat surged up her arm, flooding her veins like liquid fire. The brass-like casing of the Diviner split open, revealing the luminous blue crystal within.

Then came the mist.

It billowed out in a thick, curling wave, swirling around her feet before rapidly rising. The cold shock of it sent a jolt up her spine. Her body locked up as the mist pressed in on all sides, dense and suffocating.

The first tendrils of stone crept over her fingers.

Moira’s breath hitched. It felt wrong. The petrification spread quickly, snaking up her arms, encasing her wrists, then her elbows. Her knees buckled.

She barely registered Jiaying stepping back, giving her space, nor the faint murmurs of movement beyond the door. The last thing she saw before the mist fully consumed her was the flickering candlelight catching Jiaying’s expression – calm, expectant as if she had witnessed this moment a hundred times.

Then darkness.

The cocoon sealed around her.

For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no sight, just stillness.

Then it began.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. A tearing sensation, a shift at the core of her being. Her bones ached as though they were being stretched and reshaped. Her skin burned like fire danced beneath the surface. Moira wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Her body was locked in place, frozen in the rock that now encased her.

Was it supposed to be like this?

Distantly, she thought of Dante, of how he had changed without warning, without preparation. Of the fear in his eyes when he realised he was no longer the person he once was.

She had chosen this.

But now, trapped within the cocoon, reshaped by something far beyond her control, Moira wondered if she had made a mistake.

The sensations ebbed and surged in waves, pulling her deeper into the unknown.

Moira had no sense of time. Seconds, minutes, maybe longer, drifted past in the suffocating dark. Her body no longer felt like her own. Her skin was fever-hot, her bones molten. There was no point of reference, no grounding force. Just the steady, relentless shift.

She fought the urge to panic. Stay calm. Breathe.

But she couldn't breathe. Not in the way she was used to. Air no longer moved through her lungs, yet she wasn’t suffocating. The thought sent a fresh spike of fear through her. She tried to move, to shift even a fraction within the cocoon, but the stone held firm. It pressed against her like a second skin, heavy and unmoving.

Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the panic lessened.

A strange awareness settled over her, something deep and primal, foreign yet familiar. Like an instinct she hadn’t known she possessed was awakening.

Her senses sharpened. Then, a sharp tug at her core, as if something was calling to her.

Moira didn’t understand it, but instinctively, she answered.

Cracks splintered across the surface of the cocoon.

The weight pressing against her lifted slightly. More cracks followed, light filtering in through the fractures. The chamber, the candles, the faint silhouette of Jiaying standing a few feet away. Everything was blurred, distorted, but coming back into focus.

And then, with one final crackling snap, the cocoon shattered.

Moira gasped as she collapsed to her hands and knees, dragging in her first real breath. It came sharp and uneven as she knelt amidst the shattered remains of her cocoon. The air tasted different – sharper, richer, tinged with something electric.

Her limbs trembled as she pressed her fingers against the cool stone beneath her. Her fingers. Were they the same? Had she changed?

Slowly, hesitantly, Moira lifted her head.

Jiaying stood a few feet away, watching her, unreadable.

Beyond the chamber doors, voices rose, urgent and anxious.

She was different. She could feel it.

Moira pressed a hand to her chest, expecting something unfamiliar beneath her palm, but her body was the same. No extra limbs, no foreign textures or unnatural colours. Yet the change was undeniable. It was in the way her skin was humming beneath the surface, charged with something just out of reach.

She wasn’t broken. She wasn’t in pain. But she was changed.

Jiaying took a slow step forward. “How do you feel?”

Moira swallowed. “Like I got run over by a truck.”

Jiaying’s lips twitched. “That is normal.”

Voices outside the chamber came louder, and Moira’s pulse jumped.

She shifted, pressing her hands to the floor to push herself upright. But the moment she stood, her balance wavered. The ground felt too steady beneath her, her muscles too taut with energy. Jiaying moved as if to help her, but Moira steadied herself.

One step. Then another.

Everything was sharper. The world around her was clearer. The flicker of candlelight threw shifting shadows along the walls, the scent of melted wax mixing with the crisp night air filtering through the chamber. She could hear her own heartbeat, too loud, too fast.

And she was stronger. She knew it before she even tested it. It wasn’t sudden invincibility – she wasn’t going to start throwing people across the room – but there was a tautness to her muscles, a certainty in the way she moved that hadn’t been there before.

She reached the chamber door and pushed it open.

Peggy was there. Relief broke across her face before she caught herself, schooling it into something more measured. “Moira.”

Moira took a breath, too much all at once, and nearly stumbled.

Peggy caught her immediately. “Easy.”

“I’m fine.” Moira squeezed her eyes shut for a second before forcing them open again. The world still felt too much. “It’s just…”

“Like a hangover made of bees?” Dante supplied, stepping closer.

Moira let out a weak huff of laughter. “Something like that.”

Howard, watching her with open curiosity, scanned her from head to toe for any visible change. “Well, you look the same.”

“Don’t sound too disappointed,” she said dryly.

Jiaying stepped past her, nodding toward the entrance of the courtyard. “Lui is waiting. He will guide you through the transition process.”

Moira swallowed hard, nodding. She wasn’t done yet. This was only the beginning.

She accepted the arm Peggy offered her before stepping forward. “Let’s get going then.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Moira sat cross-legged on a woven mat, her back straight despite the lingering ache in her muscles. The transition room was dimly lit, the scent of burning incense curling in the air. A wooden screen separated her from the others – she knew Peggy, Howard and Dante were waiting outside. But in here, it was just her and Lui.

Lui moved with careful precision, rolling up his sleeves as he prepared the needles. “You’re adjusting well,” he said, his voice calm. “But this will help centre you.”

Moira exhaled sharply. Centre her. Right. Her mind had been anything but since she’d emerged from the cocoon.

Every breath she took felt sharper, richer. Her limbs felt stronger and more responsive. Even now, she could hear the faintest murmur of conversation outside the room; Howard’s impatient huff, Peggy’s steady tone, Dante’s restless shifting. But more than that, her thoughts were… split. No, not split. Multiplied. Layers upon layers, all running at once, tracking details she would never have noticed before. It was like she could hold multiple conversations in her head at the same time, anticipate movements before they happened and analyse everything at a speed that should have been impossible.

It was exhilarating. And exhausting.

Lui placed a hand lightly against her shoulder. “You need to let go,” he instructed gently. “You are processing too much at once.”

Moira clenched her jaw but nodded. “I don’t know how.”

“That is why I am here.”

He began inserting the needles, one after the other, the points barely pricking her skin. A strange warmth spread through her as he worked, a tingling sensation she couldn’t quite place. Slowly, the noise in her mind softened. Not gone, but quieter. Manageable.

Her shoulders slumped slightly. “That’s… better.”

Lui gave a satisfied nod. “Your body has undergone thousands of years of evolution in an instant. This process helps ease that transition.” He studied her carefully. “Your mind is powerful. You are already adapting.”

Moira wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not.

The door creaked open slightly, and Dante poked his head inside. “She still alive?”

Moira shot him a dry look. “Barely.”

Lui glanced over his shoulder, unimpressed but not unkind. “You may come in. I’m placing the final needles.”

Dante grinned, stepping inside and carefully avoiding the arrangement of needles along Moira’s back. “This part’s the worst, but it gets better.”

“You’re just saying that because you survived.”

“Exactly.” He knelt beside her, resting his arms on his knees. “Trust me, once you’re through this, you’ll feel like yourself again.”

Moira exhaled, nodding. She wanted to believe that.

“At least you didn’t run to Honduras after your transition.” Dante sighed. “Probably should’ve stayed where I was, but everything kept catching on fire.”

Moira raised an eyebrow. “You ran?”

“Well, not all the way.” He shrugged. “But a hell of a lot farther than I should’ve been able to.” He tapped his temple. “Your head’s a mess right now, but I bet you’ve already noticed something’s different. You’re stronger, faster. You’ll figure out just how much soon enough.”

Moira thought back to when she had first left the chamber, how her balance had felt slightly off – not from disorientation, but from something deeper. She had felt the power in her muscles even then, waiting to be tested.

Lui placed the last needle, his fingers sure and practised. “There,” he said simply.

A soft knock sounded at the door before Dante could respond. Peggy.

Dante pushed himself up. “I’ll leave you to it.” He gave Moira a reassuring smile before the door shut behind him.

Peggy entered, her sharp gaze sweeping over Moira. “How are you feeling?”

Moira tilted her head slightly. “Like my brain’s been rewired.”

Peggy hummed, folding her arms. “That’s because it has.”

She studied her for a long moment, then softened, crouching slightly so she was level with her.

Moira let out a breath. “I know. But…”

“But you’re impatient.”

Moira huffed a quiet laugh. “Something like that.”

Peggy leant in, a firm, steadying presence hovering over her. “You made the right call, you know. Whatever happens next, you won’t be facing it alone.”

Moira swallowed. The weight in her chest loosened just a little.

She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

Lui straightened. “It is time to meditate.” He stepped back, hands clasped behind his back. “You must quiet your thoughts. Let the body adjust without interference from the mind.”

Moira breathed deeply, centring herself as best she could.

Peggy, without a word, shifted to sit beside her, legs crossed, hands resting on her lap. She wasn’t leaving.

Moira closed her eyes.

And let herself begin.

It wasn’t enough.

She could feel the shift in herself – layered thoughts, sharper instincts, her mind processing things in ways it never had before. But that wasn’t it. That wasn’t her power.

Jiaying had told her to listen to the part of herself that had been waiting for this, to let it guide her. But she still didn’t understand what she was listening for.

Lui had suggested physical exercise to ground her.

Which was how she found herself standing in an open courtyard, watching Peggy square off against Gordon.

Moira had fought with Peggy before. She was fast, ruthless and utterly efficient. But Gordon, despite his blindness, was… something else entirely.

He moved like he already knew what was coming. Every strike Peggy threw, he evaded with a precise shift of his weight, turning her force into his advantage. His style wasn’t flashy, but it was fluid and controlled. Moira knew he could teleport, had seen him do it plenty of times, but he didn’t rely on that now.

It was a test of skill, not ability.

Moira’s fingers curled at her sides.

She understood, instinctively, what he was doing. More than just seeing it – she could feel it, the way his body positioned itself, the way his balance adjusted. Like something in her brain had locked onto the mechanics of the fight and mapped them out in perfect detail.

“Alright,” Peggy said, stepping back with a faint breathlessness, pushing her sleeves up. “I think that’s enough for now.”

Gordon merely tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Lui turned to Moira. “Your turn.”

Moira blinked. “What?”

Lui gestured toward the sparring area. “You need to acclimate to your body’s new limits. You should release some of your physical energy, but you are still adjusting to your strength. You will spar with Gordon, not your human companion.”

Moira hesitated, glancing at Peggy, who was stretching her shoulder with an amused look. “You might as well. I need a break.”

With a sigh, Moira stepped forward. “Fine. But don’t expect anything fancy.”

Gordon shifted into a ready stance, calm as ever. “You do not need ‘fancy,’” he said.

Moira exhaled and mirrored his stance. The second she moved, she knew.

Her muscles responded before conscious thought, her foot placement exact, her weight shifting in perfect balance. She struck – smooth, controlled, precise. The exact move Gordon had used just moments ago.

He countered, of course, but something flickered across his expression. A flicker of recognition.

Moira barely had time to process before she twisted into another movement – one Peggy had used earlier. Not just similar: exact. One Peggy hadn’t taught her before.

Gordon stepped back, lowering his hands. Lui tilted his head slightly, considering her.

Peggy, watching from the sidelines, raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s new.”

Moira’s breath was steady, but her pulse was racing.

Her body knew things it shouldn’t.

She knew things she hadn’t learned.

Lui nodded, as if confirming something. “Fascinating.”

Lui studied her for a moment before gesturing toward Gordon. “Again.”

Moira hesitated. Maybe it had been a fluke. Some combination of instinct and the training she’d had before – except she hadn’t trained for this. She’d never moved like that.

She exhaled sharply, settling into position as Gordon waited patiently.

He attacked. Moira reacted.

Her body moved without conscious thought, every shift, every counter executed flawlessly.

She stepped back, breathless, her skin buzzing with something electric.

Peggy let out a quiet whistle. “Not a fluke, then.”

Lui’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Again.”

Moira went through the motions a third time, a fourth; each as smooth and precise as the last.

A soft voice cut through the quiet. “Interesting.”

Moira turned to find Jiaying standing at the edge of the garden, watching intently.

She stepped closer, her gaze sweeping over Moira with quiet assessment. “You learn by watching.”

Moira frowned. “What does that mean?”

Jiaying tilted her head slightly. “You mimic.”

Mimic. The word settled uneasily in Moira’s mind.

She shook her head. “How? Is it permanent? Are there limits?”

Jiaying remained composed, but there was a note of sympathy in her voice when she answered. “There have been others with abilities like yours before, but no two Inhumans are the same. Every gift manifests uniquely.” She met Moira’s gaze. “I cannot tell you exactly what you are capable of. That is something you must discover for yourself.”

Before she could respond, Peggy spoke up. “You may have to figure it out on your own, but that doesn’t mean you are on your own.” She gave Moira a firm, steady look. “You’ve got us.”

Moira exhaled slowly, some of the tension in her shoulders loosening.

Jiaying’s expression softened just slightly. “The only way to master it is to test it. You need to understand your ability in order to control it.”

Moira’s jaw tightened, but she nodded.

She had always believed in training. Preparation. Knowledge.

Now, she had to apply those things to herself.

And find out exactly what she could do.

Moira sat cross-legged in one of Afterlife’s quiet courtyards, watching a musician pluck a soft, lilting melody on a guzheng. The strings sang beneath his fingers, a sound both delicate and rich, like water flowing over smooth stone.

She had never played a guzheng in her life.

But as she watched, she knew how to do it. She could see the patterns in the movements, the way each note connected to the next. It wasn’t just an understanding, it was instinct.

Without thinking, she reached forward and placed her fingers on the strings of the spare instrument beside her.

Her hands moved as if they had done this for years. The melody echoed back, identical to the one she had just heard.

The musician looked up sharply. “You play?”

Moira’s breath caught. “I…”

Her fingers hovered above the strings. She could play. She knew how. But she shouldn’t.

She swallowed, setting her hands in her lap. “I guess I do now.”

She tested it again that afternoon.

A calligrapher sat at a long wooden table, carefully brushing elegant Mandarin characters onto rice paper. Moira stood by, observing the way he held the brush, the precise, fluid strokes that gave each character life.

She picked up her own brush.

With careful deliberation, she traced the same characters onto a fresh sheet.

The strokes were smooth. Exact.

She wasn’t just copying the shapes, she understood the movement. The rhythm. The flow of it.

The calligrapher glanced up, noticing her work. His brows lifted slightly. “You’ve studied before?”

Moira hesitated, eyeing the precise strokes she had just painted. They matched his exactly.

“No,” she admitted.

He frowned, leaning in to inspect her work. Moira resisted the urge to pull back. She hadn’t read the symbols she had drawn, hadn’t understood their meaning. But the physical act? The technique? That had become hers in an instant.

The next day, Jiaying took a more active role in testing her ability.

Moira sat across from a Nepalese speaker, one of Afterlife’s residents, who had been instructed to teach her a few basic phrases. He spoke the first one slowly, deliberately, followed by a translation.

And as soon as the words left his mouth, something in her mind clicked.

She repeated it back perfectly.

He blinked, clearly surprised. “That was… very good.”

Another phrase.

Another immediate replication.

He started giving her sentences, throwing more and more information her way until she wasn’t repeating him anymore; she was able to alter the sentence structure, create her own messages and respond flawlessly.

Jiaying studied her with sharp, assessing eyes.

Moira clenched her fists in her lap. Her body could already do things she hadn’t trained for. Now her mind was expanding in ways she didn’t fully understand.

She exhaled slowly.

This wasn’t just an ability. This was who she was now.

Moira left the lesson with a mind still buzzing. The words, the sentence structures, the rhythm of the language – it wasn’t fading. It had settled in her head like it had always been there. Like she had studied for years, rather than minutes.

She wasn’t just learning. She was absorbing.

Her thoughts churned as she made her way back to the quarters Jiaying had assigned them. The late afternoon air was crisp, the setting sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. Afterlife was quiet, as it always seemed to be. She had seen only glimpses of other Inhumans in passing, but it was clear Jiaying was keeping them separate from the general population.

She reached the door, pushing it open to find Peggy, Howard and Dante inside. Howard was slouched in one of the chairs, flipping through one of his notebooks. Peggy was tidying the small table near the window, while Dante was lying on his back on one of the cots, tossing a small ball in the air and catching it.

Moira cleared her throat.

Three heads snapped up.

Howard sat up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. “What did Jiaying say?”

Moira stepped inside fully, folding her arms. “Apparently I can copy anything I see. Movement, skills, even languages. If someone shows me how to do something, I can do it immediately. And I keep the knowledge.”

Howard’s eyes lit up. “Holy hell.”

Peggy let out a slow breath, absorbing that. Dante sat up straighter, intrigued.

Howard, meanwhile, was already off, pacing with wild excitement. “Do you know how useful that is? You could master every combat style on Earth. Pick up any language. Hell, Moira, you could get more PhDs than me…”

She snorted. “That’s not exactly a goal of mine, Howard.”

He waved a hand. “Point is, the applications for intelligence work alone – espionage, diplomacy, infiltration – you could walk into any country and fit in.”

Moira arched a brow. “You’re making me sound like a science experiment.”

Howard paused, turning back to her. “No, I’m making you sound like an unstoppable badass.”

That startled a laugh out of her.

Howard grinned, satisfied, but Peggy cut in before he could launch into another tirade. “How do you feel about it?”

The question caught Moira off guard.

She had spent so much time trying to figure out her ability, she hadn’t let herself process what it meant.

She exhaled slowly. “It’s… a lot,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around it yet.”

Peggy nodded, watching her closely. “That’s understandable.”

Before Moira could say more, Dante piped up. “So, when are we going home?”

Moira turned to him, giving him a wry look. “What, you don’t like the peaceful mountain retreat?”

Dante flopped back against the cot with a groan. “I miss the mansion. And hot showers.”

Howard snorted. “You’re acting like we’ve been roughing it in the wilderness. This place isn’t that primitive.”

Dante smirked. “Maybe, but I don’t own a mansion, so it feels more special when I get to stay in one. Besides, me and Moira never did find out if you had a jet hidden in there.”

Moira shook her head, but the light-hearted exchange did ease some of the tension in her chest. At least some things hadn’t changed.

Peggy, however, glanced at her more seriously. “It’s a valid question.”

Silence settled between them.

Moira glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers. She still didn’t fully understand what she could do. But she also knew she couldn’t stay locked away in Afterlife forever.

“This isn’t my home,” she admitted quietly.

Peggy’s gaze sharpened. “Where is?”

Moira hesitated.

The X-Mansion flashed in her mind – the halls, the classrooms, Charles’s office, Alex’s teasing smirk, Sean’s laughter, even Hank joining in on the fun when he could tear himself away from his lab. The people who had built something there. The ones who had needed her.

Then she thought of S.H.I.E.L.D. The life she had fought for, the one she had built after everything was taken from her. The people who welcomed her with open arms.

And now, she was different. How much of either life still belonged to her?

“I don’t know,” Moira said finally. “I don’t know how much is going to change once we leave.”

Peggy studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Then we take it one step at a time.”

Moira exhaled. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

Peggy leaned back slightly, her gaze steady. “No one at S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to treat you any differently.”

Moira lifted an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

Howard scoffed. “Oh, please. Do you think we’d let anything happen to you? We built S.H.I.E.L.D. from the ground up. And we’ve worked with plenty of exceptionals before, this doesn’t change a damn thing.”

Peggy added, “You still have a place in the field, we may just need to rethink how you operate. You need time to adjust to this fully.” Her tone turned wry. “And Dante needs proper training. If I recall, you did volunteer to be his supervisor.”

Dante sat up straighter, grinning. “That means you have to spend more time with me now. No backing out.”

Moira smirked, shaking her head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. You’ve got a long way to go before you’re going out in the field.”

Howard clapped his hands together. “Brilliant. Then we’ve got a plan. Moira’s going to ease back into things, Dante’s learning how to not burn any more of my houses down…”

Moira raised an eyebrow.

Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so after you left us in Jamaica, there may have been a small…”

“Big,” Howard cut in.

“…fire,” Dante finished, shooting him a glare. “That did a bit of damage.”

Howard snorted. “A bit? Dante, it’s going to be a whole remodel.” He gestured vaguely. “Maria’s thrilled, though. She loves decorating.”

Dante winced. “Yeah… you’re welcome?”

Moira pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t leave you two alone for five minutes.”

Dante laughed, but Moira’s smile faded slightly as she turned more serious. “We still have to deal with the rogue Inhuman.” She looked between them. “That has to remain our next priority.”

Peggy nodded. “Agreed.”

“And Erik,” Moira added. “He’s been too quiet. His vendetta against humans isn’t going anywhere.”

Howard sighed. “Fantastic. We just got back from a mountain retreat, and now we’ve got two global threats to deal with. Place always goes to hell the second I go on vacation.”

“Howard,” Peggy sighed, “the world is at its safest when you’re on holiday.”

Moira exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “Guess it’s time to get back to work.”

Moira was soon making her way through the quiet halls of Afterlife, her mind already shifting back into work mode. The time for adjustment was over. They had a mission to complete.

She found Jiaying in her office, the dim candlelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The leader of Afterlife looked up as Moira entered, her expression knowing.

“You’re leaving,” Jiaying said calmly.

Moira nodded. “It’s time.”

Jiaying studied her for a long moment, weighing up her next words. “You still have much to learn about yourself.”

“I know. But I’ll come back when I can.” Moira hesitated. “There are people out there who need me. I can’t stay hidden away here forever.”

Jiaying gave a small, knowing smile. “Understanding oneself is a lifelong journey, Moira. But you will always be welcome at Afterlife.” There was an unwavering certainty in her tone. Moira didn’t doubt that Jiaying would do whatever was necessary to protect the Inhumans, no matter the cost.

She exhaled. “Before I go, I need more information about the Inhuman behind these attacks.”

Jiaying’s expression darkened slightly. “His name is Toshiro Watanabe.”

Moira committed the name to memory. “What can you tell me about him?”

“Not everyone with the potential undergoes the transformation. We evaluate those who wish to go through it – their mental and physical resilience, their motivations. Toshiro was ambitious. He aspired to power. I wanted to work with him longer before making a decision, but he grew impatient.” Jiaying’s jaw tightened. “He stole one of the synthetic crystals and forced his own transformation.”

Moira frowned. “What’s a synthetic crystal?”

Jiaying’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “We created them as a safeguard. If the Diviners were ever lost or destroyed, the Inhumans would not go extinct. However, we were never able to fully separate the Diviner metal from the new crystals. For Inhumans, the difference is negligible.”

“But for humans,” Moira murmured, realisation dawning.

Jiaying nodded. “It kills them. It’s why the attacks have been so lethal. He isn’t just activating Inhumans, he’s leaving a trail of human casualties in his wake.”

Moira swallowed hard. “Do you know what his power is?”

Jiaying shook her head. “I never saw him afterwards. I have no idea if he changed physically or what abilities he developed.”

Moira’s mind raced through possibilities. “Could he teleport like Gordon?”

Jiaying’s lips pressed together. “I don’t know. But his attacks have all happened in North America with plenty of time between each one. We’ve been trying to track him. The Diviner lets us know when someone undergoes Terrigenesis, but he always seems to be one step ahead. By the time Gordon arrives, he’s already gone. None of the survivors have been able to identify him.”

Frustration curled in Moira’s gut. “If we can coordinate after the next attack, we might be able to stop him. S.H.I.E.L.D. has more resources to canvas an area and find a witness who can give us a description. We need a way to stay in touch.”

Jiaying tilted her head. “We don’t exactly have a telephone here.”

Moira smirked wryly. “So I gathered. But if I summon Gordon once I’m settled back at home, he can check in regularly. Pass messages between us.”

Jiaying considered, then nodded. “That is reasonable.”

That was as close to a yes as she was going to get.

Jiaying watched her carefully, then asked, “When do you want to leave?”

Moira exhaled. “Now.”

Jiaying inclined her head, unsurprised. “I thought as much.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice slightly. “From the moment I met you, I recognised your resilience, your kindness and your determination. That is why I knew so quickly that you were the right candidate for Terrigenesis.” A rare smile graced her face. “I believe you will be the bridge we need between Afterlife and the world beyond.”

Moira swallowed, absorbing the weight of those words. Then she nodded.

Jiaying summoned Gordon and explained the plan, while Moira turned on her heel to find the others.

Moira, Peggy, Dante and Howard soon stood at the edge of Afterlife.

Gordon arrived in a rush of blue light, his expression impassive as he surveyed them. “You ready?”

Moira glanced back at the mountains one last time. The home of the Inhumans. The place where she had changed forever.

She turned back to Gordon and nodded. “We are.”

He reached for them, and the world dissolved into blue.

Chapter Text

Moira stepped through the familiar halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, the weight of the past week settling over her. The mountain air of Afterlife was already fading from her senses, replaced by the hum of fluorescent lights, the distant clicking of typewriters, and the faint scent of coffee.

Jason was waiting just inside, pushing off the wall as they entered. His gaze swept over the group, lingering on Moira for just a second longer before he grinned.

“There they are,” he said, stepping forward. He hugged Peggy first, tight but brief, before shaking Howard’s hand. “How was the great adventure?”

Howard clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Educational.”

Jason turned to Moira. “You alright?”

She exhaled, nodding. “Still me.”

His brow twitched, but he nodded, accepting that answer for now.

Dante, standing beside her, rolled his shoulders. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually missed this place.”

Jason smirked. “That’s because you don’t have to sit through board meetings.”

Peggy gave him a pointed look. “Speaking of which?”

Jason’s smile faded. “They’re ready for you.” He nodded toward the conference room at the end of the hall.

Moira followed, her shoulders straightening.

The conference room was already occupied when they stepped inside.

Stoner sat at the head of the table, hands folded neatly in front of him. Colonel Phillips, sat to his right, watching them with a sharp, unreadable gaze. Fury leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression one of mild interest but not outright suspicion.

Peggy took control of the room.

She sat, her posture composed and commanding, and launched into the debrief. She covered the basics – Afterlife, the Inhumans, Jiaying’s leadership and the rogue Inhuman who had been behind the recent attacks.

Moira remained silent, watching each of the men in turn.

Phillips frowned through most of it, his gaze flickering toward her at key moments. Stoner listened without interruption, though his fingers occasionally tapped against the table, his only outward sign of contemplation. Fury, on the other hand, leaned forward slightly when Peggy brought up the rogue Inhuman, his focus sharpening.

It was only when Peggy reached the matter of Moira’s transformation that the mood in the room truly shifted.

Phillips sat up straighter, the cigar rolling between his fingers. “You’re telling me one of our agents is…”

“Inhuman,” Peggy confirmed smoothly.

A heavy beat of silence followed.

Howard finally broke it, leaning forward. “Look, I know change makes some people itchy, but this is the best possible scenario. We have an Inhuman in-house, working with us, who understands S.H.I.E.L.D., understands the mission, and can actually help bridge the gap between us and Afterlife.” He gestured toward Moira. “You’re not gonna find a better candidate for that.”

Phillips didn’t look convinced. His gaze locked onto Moira. “And you still think you can do your job?”

Moira met his eyes evenly. “Yes, Colonel.”

Another pause.

Finally, Stoner exhaled, nodding slowly. “You’re all capable agents,” he said, eyes flickering to Peggy and Howard before landing on Moira. “You’ve made your case. And I’m not in the habit of doubting my people.” He turned slightly. “Colonel?”

Phillips stayed quiet, but after a beat, he said, “Agreed.”

Fury, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “I don’t give a damn about genetic differences. What I care about is stopping this rogue before he racks up more bodies.”

Stoner nodded, satisfied. “We’ll discuss logistics from here.” He glanced toward the door. “You’re dismissed.”

Moira didn’t need to be told twice.

She pushed to her feet, Dante following her lead, and they left the senior board to their discussion.

They walked in silence until they reached Moira’s quarters. Dante stretched, already pulling off his jacket. “I’m gonna steal your shower,” he announced.

Moira smirked faintly. “Knock yourself out.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Moira alone with her thoughts.

Moira dropped onto the edge of her bed with a sigh, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension still settled deep in her muscles. The past week had been a whirlwind and though she was back at S.H.I.E.L.D., it didn’t feel like things were slowing down.

She reached for her desk, flipping through the messages stacked neatly beside her phone. A glance at the list made her lips press into a thin line.

Several missed calls.

Most of them from Charles.

Moira exhaled, running a hand through her hair. She’d been keeping in touch with the X-Men daily before they left for Afterlife. Her sudden silence would have worried them.

She picked up the phone and dialled the mansion.

It barely rang once before Alex’s voice came through, sharp and immediate. “Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“About damn time.”

Moira smirked slightly despite herself. “Nice to hear from you too.”

There was a pause, then a loud exhale. “You better have a good excuse.”

“Unexpected mission,” she said smoothly, keeping her voice light. “Had to go dark.”

Alex huffed. “You could’ve given us a heads-up.”

“You know what ‘go dark’ means, right?”

“Yeah, well…” He stopped, then sighed. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.”

He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he believed her. “Good.”

Moira drummed her fingers against the desk. She could hear faint movement in the background – students, probably.

Keeping her tone even, she asked, “How’s Charles?”

Alex was quiet for a beat. “Better,” he admitted. “Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s getting his powers back. But they’re not all the way there yet.”

Moira’s grip on the phone tightened. “How much?”

“Short-range telepathy, mostly. He needs a walking stick to get around now. And…” Alex hesitated, then sighed. “He tried to use Cerebro. To find you.”

Her breath caught slightly. “And?”

“Didn’t work. He was pissed about it.”

Moira closed her eyes briefly, guilt settling like a stone in her chest. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“Yeah, well. You did.”

She swallowed. “I’ll be out next week.”

Her stomach twisted slightly. She would have to tell Charles. But how? If his powers were back in full force, he’d know before she could even open her mouth. And if they weren’t…

She exhaled. One step at a time.

Alex made a doubtful noise. “Sure.”

“I will.”

“You better,” he said, though his voice was lighter now. “And pick up your damn phone next time.”

Moira huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

Alex grunted. “I’ll tell the Professor you called.”

“Thanks.”

She hung up, staring at the receiver for a moment before setting it back in place.

Next week. It gave her time but not much.

Before she could fully process the conversation, a sharp knock sounded at her door.

She straightened. “Come in.”

Peggy stepped inside, her expression composed but purposeful. “I’ve spoken with Stoner.”

Moira arched an eyebrow. “And?”

“You’re cleared for fieldwork.”

Moira let out a slow breath, relief tinged with suspicion. “That easy?”

Peggy gave a wry smile. “Not quite. You have conditions.”

“Of course I do.”

“You’ll report to Howard for a physical.”

Moira groaned, already picturing Howard’s smug face. “Fantastic.”

“He’s promised it won’t take long. A few hours in the lab, at most. He already has plenty of data from Dante.”

“Lucky me.”

The bathroom door swung open, and Dante stepped out, towel-drying his hair. “What’s this? You’re a lab rat too now?”

Moira shot him a look. “Looks like it.”

Dante tsked. “I was hoping to have that honour all to myself.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “You’ll survive.”

Moira leaned against the desk. “I should reach out to Afterlife. See if there’s an update.”

Peggy shook her head. “Not yet. We’re moving to Howard’s house for a few days.”

That caught Moira off guard. “Why?”

Peggy folded her arms. “S.H.I.E.L.D. already has enough rumours flying around. You need time to adjust and we’d rather not have gossip spreading about your new abilities.”

Dante perked up. “We’re going back to the mansion?”

Peggy’s lips twitched. “Try to contain your excitement.”

Moira sighed, rubbing her temple. “So when are we leaving?”

“As soon as you pack.” Peggy turned to the door. “I’m going to grab some things of my own. I’ll meet you both in the car park.”

Dante glanced at Moira. “Mind if I come with you? I need to move. Starting to feel cooped up.”

Peggy tilted her head then strode out, Dante trailing after her.

Moira turned to start packing.

There was still so much ahead of her.

She was learning how to use her ability – adjusting to the strange, instinctive way her mind absorbed and retained everything it encountered. Jiaying had told her that understanding oneself was a lifelong journey, but Moira didn’t have a lifetime to waste. She needed control, and she needed it fast.

Then there was the rogue Inhuman. She couldn’t afford to wait around while another attack happened. They had a name, a history – just not the one thing they needed most: a way to find him before he struck again.

And she still had to deal with the X-Men. As far as she knew, none of them had ever heard of Inhumans before. How were they going to react? Charles had dedicated his life to protecting mutants, to ensuring their place in the world. What would he think when he learned there was another species entirely, with their own rules, their own history?

And Dante.

Moira paused, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

She was actually looking forward to that part. Training him, guiding him, making sure he could handle whatever the world threw at him next. He had come so far already, and Moira wanted to make sure he had every opportunity to go even further.

She folded the last of her clothes into her bag, pulling the zip closed with a final tug. Just as she straightened, the shrill ring of the phone cut through the quiet.

She frowned, glancing at it.

Then her stomach twisted.

She already knew who it would be.

Moira steadied herself before picking up the receiver. “MacTaggert.”

“Moira.”

Her grip on the phone tightened.

Charles’ voice was tight, breathless. Like he had been holding onto it for too long.

“Where have you been?” His words came fast, laced with raw, unrestrained emotion. “You disappeared. I couldn’t find you. I tried…” He cut himself off, as though he was bracing against something. “I had no idea where you were and it terrified me.”

Moira pressed her palm against the desk, grounding herself. She had expected him to be worried, but not like this.

“Charles,” she said gently, “I’m fine.”

“You vanished, Moira. No contact, no warning…”

“I was pulled into an unexpected mission,” she interrupted, keeping her tone calm, steady. “I had to go dark. It wasn’t something I could control.”

Charles didn’t respond right away. She could practically hear him reining himself in, forcing down whatever emotions had taken hold of him.

“I tried to find you,” he admitted eventually, his voice quieter now. “With Cerebro.”

Moira straightened slightly. She hadn’t expected him to admit it. “Charles…”

“I know,” he said quickly, as if pre-empting her reaction. “I shouldn’t have. But, Moira, I…” His words faltered, replaced by a tense silence. “If I think you’re in danger, I will try to find you.”

Something in her chest tightened.

He sounded so unlike himself – so raw and unguarded. She had known he cared, but she hadn’t expected this level of desperation.

She closed her eyes briefly.

“I understand,” she said at last. “But if we’re going to fix things, you have to trust me.”

A long pause. Then, finally, his voice softened. “I do,” he murmured. “I just… I was afraid I’d lost you again.”

Moira swallowed.

“I’m here, Charles,” she murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tension in the line eased slightly.

“When can I see you?”

Moira hesitated, shifting her weight against the desk.

“I was going to fly out next week…”

“No.”

Her heart skipped.

“I’m coming to you.”

Moira ran a hand down her face before bringing the phone back to her ear. “Charles, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be there next week.”

“No,” he said, more insistent now. “I’m coming to you. I have to see you.”

She paused, caught off guard by the sheer certainty in his voice. “You can’t wait a week?”

“No,” he admitted, frustration creeping into his tone. “I spent too long not knowing where you were. I need to see you.”

Moira exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay patient. “Charles, I’m at work…”

“You get breaks.”

“I’m about to relocate to another facility in Washington.”

“There are airports in Washington.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’re still recovering, Charles. You shouldn’t be travelling across the country right now. You should be at the mansion, with the students.”

“Alex is in charge for the time being,” Charles countered smoothly. “And Hank is coming with me.”

That made her pause. “Hank is leaving his lab?”

“He is,” Charles said lightly. “It took some persuasion. I may have mentioned that you work with Howard Stark.” A beat. “Don’t suppose you can arrange an introduction?”

Moira let out a small, incredulous laugh. “That’s what convinced him?”

“I had to get creative.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Charles, really, you don’t need to…”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

The question landed like a strike, cutting through the air between them.

Moira’s thoughts came to a sudden halt.

She had spent days growing used to the layers of thought running through her head, the constant flow of analysis and observation. But now, for the first time since her transformation, everything went still.

The abrupt silence in her own mind startled her.

She hesitated, then moved to take a seat on the edge of her bed. “I do have something important to tell you.” She hadn’t wanted to do it this way, but he was coming no matter what she said. She could at least prepare him.

“Have you ever heard of Inhumans?”

Charles was silent for a moment before responding carefully. “No, I haven’t.”

Moira exhaled. “Well, they’ve heard of you. I guess it’s only fair you know about them.”

She leaned against the desk, steadying herself. “It started with Dante. You remember him?”

“The boy you’ve been working with,” Charles said immediately. “You said he had an ability.”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Dante is an Inhuman. They’re exceptionals, like mutants, but not quite the same. They aren’t born with their powers. Their abilities are activated by exposure to a substance that triggers a dormant gene in their DNA.”

A pause. Then Charles’ voice sharpened. “A dormant gene? Something that requires an external catalyst?”

Moira could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

“What is the catalyst? Why…” He cut himself off but then continued, curiosity overriding restraint. “How is it introduced? Is it environmental or…”

She sighed. “You’re going to have to talk to someone much smarter than me for answers like that.”

“Moira…”

“Professor,” she cut in dryly, “would you let me finish?”

She could sense his frustration, but he fell silent, letting her continue.

“Someone has been forcing people to go through this transformation,” she said, her voice turning graver. “And if they don’t have the gene, they die.”

Charles inhaled sharply.

“That’s what happened to Dante,” she pressed on. “S.H.I.E.L.D. responded to an attack. He was exposed and when his powers activated, he lost control. Started a fire. Quite a few actually.”

Charles, despite the weight of the conversation, still sounded fascinated. “What kind of ability does he have?”

Moira shook her head slightly. “He generates and manipulates heat. But that’s not the point, Charles.”

“I’m just…”

“I know. But let me finish.”

She steadied herself. “The other Inhumans came looking for him. They knew about the attacks, knew what was happening. They took him in, helped him. And then…”

She hesitated, gripping the edge of the desk.

“They told me I had the gene too.”

The silence stretched long and thick between them.

Then, Charles spoke, his voice calm but carefully measured. “What happened?”

Moira kept her voice even. “I activated the gene.”

Another pause. This one felt heavier.

When Charles spoke again, his tone had shifted, concern edging into his words. “Moira, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Undergoing genetic modification – it’s unpredictable. It could have killed you.”

“I’m fine,” she said firmly. “I had help. I went through the process at Afterlife, under supervision. I didn’t do it recklessly.”

“You didn’t have to do it at all.”

Her fingers curled against the desk. “That’s not your choice to make.”

Charles exhaled, as if forcing himself to stay composed. “What… what can you do?”

“I’m a mimic.” She paused before elaborating, “I can learn any skill just by watching it. It’s permanent, not just temporary recall.”

“That’s… remarkable,” he admitted, but there was something uneasy in his voice.

Moira softened, just slightly. “They helped me adjust. And I still have S.H.I.E.L.D. to help.”

Charles made a frustrated noise. “Moira, you’re better with the mutants. You belong at Winchester.”

Something sharp flared in her chest.

She trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. She trusted the Inhumans. They had never betrayed her.

Unlike the mutants.

The words nearly left her mouth before she caught them – they were trying to mend bridges.

She forced a breath through her nose. “I understand why you’re concerned, Charles. But I don’t regret it. And right now, I have to focus on finding this Inhuman before he attacks anyone else.”

Charles grasped onto something. “If I had full access to my powers, I could help you. I could find them with Cerebro.”

Moira arched a brow, despite knowing he couldn’t see her. “And how long will it take until you can?”

There was a long sigh on the other end. “I don’t know.”

Moira hummed. “Then here’s the plan – you stay at Winchester until I get to Howard’s lab. Once I’m there, I’ll call you. We’ll work out a plan from there.”

Another pause. Then, finally, “Alright.”

She exhaled. “Get some rest, Charles.”

“You too,” he murmured.

She hung up and ran a hand down her face. One step at a time.

Pushing herself upright, she grabbed her bag and headed to meet Peggy and Dante.

Chapter Text

Howard Stark leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the heart monitor. “Alright, Moira, your resting heart rate is a cool three hundred beats per minute. Not bad.”

Moira blinked. “Not bad?”

Dante grinned from where he was perched on a counter. “Yeah we’re like hummingbirds now.”

Moira gave him an odd look and Dante explained, “It’s what Howard told me.”

Howard continued like they hadn’t spoken. “Reflexes are off the charts. Muscle density – stronger than the average Olympic heavyweight. You’re tracking exactly where Dante was. No claws, no wings, nothing that needs tailoring adjustments.” He sounded almost disappointed. “Just textbook superhuman physiology.”

Moira frowned. “How are you not more surprised by this?”

Howard raised an eyebrow. “Moira, I ran these same tests on hotshot over there.” He gestured lazily at Dante. “You’re not breaking any new ground here. Well, except for one thing.”

He wheeled his chair over to another console and tapped a few buttons. The screen in front of them lit up with waves of activity, lines spiking and dipping in rapid succession.

Moira tilted her head. “What am I looking at?”

Howard tapped the screen. “Your brain, sweetheart.”

Dante leaned forward with interest. “Okay. What’s different?”

Howard shot him a smirk. “Your readings were high, but Moira’s?” He turned back to her. “I’ve never seen neural activity like this. You’re thinking at speeds this machine can barely keep up with. Multiple thought processes, running at the same time, all at the same intensity.”

Howard spun in his chair to look at her. “Your ability isn’t just copying movements, it’s how you process information. You don’t just mimic skills; you can absorb them because your brain’s running circles around the rest of us.”

Moira took a moment to process that, though apparently, she could do it a lot faster now. It made sense. The way she had adapted to her new abilities, the way she had instinctively known how to use them – it wasn’t just training. It was something more fundamental.

Howard drummed his fingers on the desk. “I gotta say, if I had a brain like yours, I’d be able to solve the energy crisis before lunch. What are you taking up first? Maybe a PhD in genetic mutation – your thesis practically writes itself.”

Moira shot him a look. “I just found out I have an extended warranty on my lifespan and a brain that won’t shut up. Give me a minute.”

“Jiaying told you that bit, huh?”

Dante sat up straighter. “Wait, what?”

Moira glanced at him. “The average lifespan for an Inhuman is around 150 years. Apparently.”

Dante stared at her for a beat, then turned to Howard. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Howard smirked. “Figured you’d rather not think about outliving all your friends just yet.”

Dante made a face. “Gee, thanks.”

Moira shook her head, focusing back on the results. “So, physically, I’m where you expected. But mentally…”

Howard leaned forward, tapping the screen again. “That’s where it gets interesting. We’ll need more tests to see the limits, but my guess? You’re picking things up faster than any human should be able to. The question is – how fast?”

Moira arched a brow. “You want me to start reading encyclopaedias to see how much I retain?”

Howard grinned. “Nah, that’s boring. I’ll think of something more fun.”

Dante smirked. “Something dangerous.”

Howard pointed at him. “I like the way you think kid.”

Moira exhaled. “Great. Can’t wait.”

She pushed herself off the table, rolling her shoulders. “For now, we should get in touch with Afterlife. Gordon needs to check in.”

Howard nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s take this show upstairs.”

Moira let out a breath. Step one was done. Now, onto step two.

And after that – figuring out just how much she was willing to ask Charles for help.

Moira, Dante and Howard made their way upstairs to one of the lounges in Howard’s mansion – a sprawling, sleek space lined with floor-to-ceiling windows and accented by sharp, geometric furniture. The decor screamed mid-century modern with a distinct Stark touch – bold colours, chrome fixtures and a bar stocked with enough top-shelf liquor to keep half of Washington entertained.

Howard collapsed into one of the armchairs, stretching out like he owned the place; which, to be fair, he did. Dante wandered toward the window, peering outside, while Moira rolled her shoulders, steeling herself.

She carefully called out, only feeling slightly ridiculous as she did, “Gordon.”

The response was immediate.

A flicker of blue light, a rush of displaced air, and then Gordon stood before them, expression impassive. His arms were crossed, and though he masked it well, Moira caught the faintest flicker of irritation beneath his composed exterior.

“You know,” he said dryly, “summoning me like that is rather disruptive.”

Howard, utterly unfazed, waved a hand. “I’m sure you can make space in your busy schedule.”

Moira ignored both of them. “This is where we’re based for now,” she informed Gordon. “I wanted to check in, make sure Jiaying knows she can reach us if there’s any new information.”

Gordon inclined his head slightly. “She does. And I’ll return in three days for an update, unless Jiaying sends me sooner.” His tone left no room for argument.

Moira nodded. “Fair enough.”

Gordon turned his gaze to Howard. “Try not to let him talk you into any experiments.”

Howard smirked. “I make no promises.”

With a faint sigh, Gordon disappeared in another pulse of blue light.

Dante let out a low whistle. “That never gets old.”

A sharp crash echoed from the hallway.

Moira turned just in time to see Ana Jarvis, wide-eyed, standing over a shattered vase.

“Well,” Ana muttered, brushing a stray curl from her face. “That was unexpected.”

Jarvis came rushing in, Peggy and Jason on his heels. He took one look at the broken vase, then at Ana’s startled expression, and sighed. “I do hope this wasn’t the result of one of Mr. Stark’s more experimental ventures.”

Howard, from his seat, smirked. “Not this time.”

Ana glanced toward the space where Gordon had just been. “That – whoever that was – appeared out of nowhere.”

Dante stepped forward, hands raised in a calming gesture. “That was Gordon. He’s an Inhuman, like me and Moira.”

Ana blinked. “Oh.” Then, after a beat, she turned to Jarvis. “Well, that’s new.”

Jarvis, ever unflappable, simply adjusted his tie. “I’ve seen far stranger things.”

Jason, who had only just arrived, folded his arms. “Should I be expecting more teleporting men to show up?”

Dante shrugged. “Maybe. He comes and goes. You’ll get used to it.”

Moira sighed and sat down. “Speaking of getting used to things, we need to talk strategy.”

Peggy and Howard exchanged a glance before joining her at the table. The others filtered in, with Jason leaning against the counter while Ana and Jarvis lingered near the doorway.

Moira turned to Peggy and Howard. “I think we should consider Charles as an asset for this mission.”

Peggy’s expression didn’t shift, but Moira could tell she was already calculating the risks.

“If he gets his full powers back, he might be able to use Cerebro,” Moira explained. “It’s a device that lets him locate people across the world. He used it to find other mutants, but he can find humans with it as well. And – theoretically – Inhumans. If he can use it again, he might be able to find Toshiro before he attacks again.”

Peggy exhaled slowly. “Are you certain we can trust him with this information?”

“Yes.”

“Even if he doesn’t share it, this would expose Inhumans to the X-Men,” Peggy pointed out. “We’re not officially working with them yet, and if Erik Lehnsherr ever turns his attention toward Afterlife…”

Moira held her gaze. “Charles isn’t Erik.”

Peggy studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “No, he’s not.”

Dante crossed his arms. “I don’t think Jiaying will like this.”

Moira looked at him.

He shrugged. “She only agreed to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. because you have the gene. She’s not going to love the idea of a telepath tracking down an Inhuman. What if he finds out where Afterlife if? You know how important it is to them that it stays hidden.”

Moira exhaled. “That’s true. But Jiaying also doesn’t want to see anyone else forced through Terrigenesis. I think unless we can come up with any other solution, she’ll see this is the only choice to avoid more deaths.”

Howard, who had been quiet, suddenly leaned back and snapped his fingers. Everyone looked at him expectantly, ready to hear his plan, but he only had eyes for Jarvis.

“Get me a drink, would you? All this thinking is making me thirsty.”

Jarvis sighed but went to the bar.

Howard turned back to the group. “I agree with Moira. Working with the X-Men is the best move we’ve got. And I wouldn’t mind getting a look at this Cerebro of theirs.”

Moira smirked faintly. “Funny. The man who built it happens to be dying to meet you.”

Howard arched a brow, intrigued. “Oh?”

She shook her head. “Hank McCoy.”

Howard grinned. “The Beast?”

“That’s not his actual title,” Moira muttered.

Howard shrugged. “Well, now I’m definitely in.”

Peggy sighed. “Let’s focus.” She turned to Moira. “What’s your next move?”

Moira straightened. “I need to call Charles.”

Jarvis, ever prepared, stepped forward and presented Moira with a telephone balanced on a silver tray.

Moira took it without hesitation. “Thank you, Jarvis.”

He gave a polite nod. “Of course, Agent MacTaggert.”

Ignoring Howard’s amused smirk, Moira dialled the number for Winchester.

It didn’t take long for Charles to answer.

“Moira,” he said immediately, his voice steadier than their last conversation but still holding a trace of concern. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, conscious of her watching audience. “We’ve relocated to Washington for the time being.”

There was a pause. “And what does that mean for our plan?”

Moira exhaled, leaning back in her chair. “It means we’re waiting. If we get news, we need to be ready to act fast.” She hesitated. “How long until your powers are back at full strength?”

Charles hummed, considering. “I’m working on it. But it’s not quite there yet.”

“Hank still weaning you off the serum?”

“Yes. He told me it had to be done slowly. But if it would stop another attack…”

“Listen to him Charles.”

That gave him pause.

“If it takes a few days, a few weeks even,” Moira continued, firm but steady, “that’s the situation. We’ll make it work.”

There was a beat of silence, then Charles spoke, his voice softer now. “I promise, Moira. I won’t do anything foolish.”

“Good.”

“Hank believes I’ll be completely off it by Friday.”

Moira considered. “Alright. If we don’t hear anything new, we’ll come to Winchester on Saturday.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

“You know I won’t be alone.”

Charles hummed, amused. “Hank is finally getting the chance to meet Howard Stark, then?”

“Seems that way.”

Before Charles could respond, Dante’s voice cut through the room. “Hey – can I go too?”

Moira turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed expectantly.

She looked to Peggy.

Peggy simply raised a brow. “We’ll see.”

Dante groaned dramatically. “That means no.”

Moira smirked before turning back to the phone. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Charles hummed in agreement. “Take care, Moira.”

“You too.”

She hung up, setting the receiver back on the tray.

Dante crossed his arms, clearly not ready to let this go. “Look, the X-Men are already gonna learn everything about Inhumans the second you guys show up. So why can’t I come?”

Moira levelled him with a look. “Because it’s not just about secrecy. It’s about clearance. You don’t have it yet. You also haven’t been on a plane yet.”

Dante frowned. “Well what’s that got to do with anything?”

Howard waved a hand. “Relax, hotshot. If Moira’s worried about it, I’ll fly us to Winchester myself. Got a perfectly good jet out back. Who needs commercial?”

Dante’s eyes lit up. “I knew you had a jet somewhere. Where is it?”

Howard smirked.

Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Howard, this is not a field trip.”

Moira shook her head, but Howard wasn’t done yet. “Besides, I’ve been working on a suit for you.”

Dante blinked. “For me?”

Howard nodded, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “Can’t have you running around setting fire to your own clothes. It’s inflammable.”

Dante grinned. “That’s awesome.”

Howard turned to Moira. “You should try one too. I’ve already started a second design.”

Moira sighed. “Howard…”

Peggy shot him a look. “They’re not going on holiday.”

Dante ignored them, focused entirely on the prospect of a suit. “You mean like a superhero suit?”

Howard smirked. “Let’s just call it functional.”

Peggy huffed, turning back to Dante with hands on hips: the sign she was putting her foot down. “You are not an agent and unless you’ve secretly developed mimicry as well, you’re not going to learn everything you need to by Saturday.”

Dante’s eyes gleamed. “That sounds like a challenge. I’ll get into my training gear.”

Before anyone could stop him, he sprinted out of the room.

Moira arched an eyebrow. “What training gear?”

Howard shrugged like it was obvious. “I bought him a whole new wardrobe.”

Peggy gave him a look.

Howard held up his hands. “What? Poor kid didn’t have anything except the clothes on his back. It was the least I could do.”

“You’re spoiling him,” Peggy said, exasperated.

Howard scoffed. “I’m not spoiling him. The car I got him was only mid-range. I didn’t even splurge on a luxury brand.”

“I have a good mind to call Maria.”

“They’ve met – she loves the kid.” Howard enthused.

Peggy sighed, rubbing her temple, and Moira took that as her cue to leave them to their bickering.

She turned, making her way over to Jason, where he was leaning casually against a side table. He was watching the conversation with the bemused patience of someone who had worked with Howard Stark for far too long.

As she approached, he turned to her with a small smirk. “So, how’d the tests go?”

Moira tilted her head. “Haven’t you seen the data?”

Jason shrugged. “Sure. But numbers don’t tell me how it was for you.”

She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s a lot to process.”

Jason’s smirk faded slightly, his expression turning more thoughtful. They had gotten close when she first came to S.H.I.E.L.D., back when she was still piecing herself back together – both mentally and professionally. He had been one of the few people who had treated her like herself, not just as an asset that needed fixing.

She sighed, folding her arms. “I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I can do. I haven’t even had a real chance to test my strength or speed. And the mimicry…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Everything feels foreign.”

Jason studied her for a moment before nodding toward the door. “Come on.”

Moira frowned. “Where?”

“The lab,” he said simply. “You need space to experiment. God knows there’s enough space in this house for it.”

Moira huffed a small laugh. “Good point.”

They turned toward the door, passing Peggy and Howard – who were still mid-bicker – while Jarvis stood between them like a tennis tournament spectator. Ana, seated nearby with a cup of tea, raised an amused eyebrow at them but said nothing as they slipped out.

Jason led the way down the hall, hands tucked in his pockets, his usual easy confidence in place. Moira followed, rolling her shoulders as they walked. Everything still felt… off. Not in a bad way – just different. Like wearing a well-tailored suit that didn’t quite feel like hers yet.

“You’re tense,” Jason observed.

Moira shot him a look. “Gee, wonder why.”

He smirked but didn’t push. When they reached the lab, he gestured toward one of the tables. “Alright. You said you barely touched the surface of what you can do. Let’s fix that.”

Moira folded her arms. “You got a plan, or are we winging it?”

Jason considered for a moment, then his eyes gleamed. “We could start with something simple. Like an arm wrestle.”

Moira blinked, sure she’d misheard. “You want to arm wrestle?”

Jason shrugged, grabbing a stool and gesturing for her to sit. “Strength is the easiest thing to test. Besides, I need to know exactly how much harder you’d be able to kick my ass in a fight now. I was never going to win before, but now…”

Moira raised a brow, but she sat, resting her elbow on the table. Jason did the same, giving her a cheerful grin.

“Go easy on me, MacTaggert.”

She scoffed. “No promises.”

They locked hands. Moira could already feel the difference – Jason had a solid grip, years of field training making up for any lack of brute strength. But compared to what she was now?

“Alright,” Jason said. “Three, two, one…”

He barely got the words out before Moira moved.

Jason’s hand slammed against the table in an instant.

He stared at it. Then at her.

Moira tried and failed not to smirk. “Huh.”

Jason flexed his fingers. “Okay. Wow. That was humbling.”

She chuckled. “You want me to try for real this time?”

Jason gave her a wide-eyed look. “That wasn’t for real?”

She just raised an eyebrow.

Jason exhaled. “Alright. One more time.”

They reset. This time, Moira made a conscious effort to hold back, gauging the pressure, the resistance. Jason pushed hard, but it didn’t matter – she could hold his arm in place effortlessly.

She wasn’t even using a fraction of her full strength.

Jason must’ve realized it too, because he let out a low whistle. “Yeah, okay. I’m never picking a fight with you.”

Moira flexed her fingers. The sheer ease of it was bizarre. Before, she had always been strong – kept up with training, stayed at peak condition. Now? Now she was playing by an entirely different set of rules.

Jason sat back, shaking his head. “That’s gonna take some getting used to, huh?”

Moira let out a slow breath. “You have no idea.”

Jason studied her for a beat. Then a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s really test what you can do.”

Jason moved toward a nearby workstation, rummaging through a tray of tools. “So, strength is one thing,” he said, sifting through neatly arranged instruments. “But let’s see how your reflexes hold up.”

Moira folded her arms, watching as he picked up a scalpel.

“You trust me?” he asked, turning it between his fingers.

She gave him a flat look. “That depends. What exactly are you planning?”

Jason smirked. “Something scientific.”

Before she could respond, he flicked the scalpel straight at her.

Her body reacted before her mind caught up.

Her hand snapped up, fingers closing around the slim handle before the blade could come anywhere near her.

She stared at it. Then at Jason.

Jason’s grin widened. “Knew it.”

Moira exhaled slowly, then stepped forward and pressed the scalpel back into his palm. “We just confirmed I’m stronger than a human should be and your first instinct is to throw a sharp object at me?”

Jason shrugged, clearly pleased with himself. “Calculated risk. Besides, based on the data? Your brain’s processing at a completely different speed. You didn’t just react – you anticipated.”

He toyed with the scalpel in his hand thoughtfully. “Try again?”

Moira gave him a wary look. “…Fine.”

Jason flicked it again, a little lower this time.

Her fingers closed around it before she even thought to move.

She pressed it back into his palm with a knowing look.

Jason let out a slow whistle. “Damn.”

Moira flexed her fingers. No spike of panic. No adrenaline rush. Just… certainty.

Jason studied her, intrigued. “How’s it feel?”

Moira rolled her shoulders. “Like my body knows things before my brain does.”

Jason smiled gently. “That’s gotta be annoying for someone who lives in her head as much as you do.”

Moira shot him a look, but she couldn’t exactly argue.

Jason leaned back against the table, studying her. “So,” he said, quieter this time, “how are you doing?”

Moira sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Honestly? It’s strange. A couple of years ago, people thought I was weird just for wanting to be a CIA agent. Then I met a group of mutants and suddenly being normal made me the odd one.”

Jason listened, arms crossed, letting her work through it.

Moira shook her head. “And now… now I’m the one with powers. But what does that even mean? Am I still human? Or am I something else?” She hesitated, then admitted, “Where does all of this lead me?”

Jason considered her for a moment, then said simply, “Wherever you want it to.”

She frowned slightly. It wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

Jason shrugged. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, Moira. Not everything has to have a purpose the second it happens. Change is a part of life. The unnatural thing is to stand still.”

Moira huffed a quiet laugh. “You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple,” Jason said. “It’s just not easy.” He met her gaze. “You’ve got a lot to adjust to, sure. But you will. And you’ve got the whole team behind you.”

Something in her chest eased.

Before she could respond, the door burst open.

“Alright,” Dante announced, stepping inside. “Time to train.”

Moira blinked. “Excuse me?”

Dante grinned. “You heard Peggy. I’ve got to prove myself before Saturday.” He cracked his knuckles. “And you did say you were gonna train me.”

Jason smirked. “Can’t argue with a promise.”

Moira shook her head with a faint smile. It was exactly the kind of distraction she needed. One strand of her mind had already split off to start working on a training regimen.

“Fine. Let’s get to work.”

Dante fist-pumped. “Yes! Let’s do this!”

Chapter Text

Dante hit the mat with a thud, exhaling sharply as he rolled onto his back. “Okay,” he panted, “you’ve got to admit, that was an improvement.”

Moira, standing over him with her hands on her hips, arched a brow. “You managed to stay on your feet for all of five seconds.”

He grinned up at her. “Exactly. Progress.”

She huffed a laugh and extended a hand to pull him up. He took it, and for a moment, they both hesitated – judging their strength, adjusting to the fact that everything was different now. Moira had caught herself misjudging distances, gripping things too tightly and moving faster than she meant to. And Dante, still growing into his control, had already singed through three training mats.

At least they hadn’t put another hole in the wall.

Howard, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, smirked. “You know, I was just thinking this place was looking a little too pristine. Luckily I have you guys to rough it up for me.”

Moira shot him a look. “You’re the one who told us to push ourselves.”

“Yeah, but I meant outside,” he said, pushing off the doorframe. “Dante’s already burned down one of my places. Let’s not make it a pattern.”

Dante groaned. “That was one time. And I didn’t burn down the whole house.”

“An important distinction.” Peggy commented dryly.

She glanced at Moira then, taking in the tension in her shoulders, the slight lag in her movements – the kind of exhaustion she was too stubborn to admit to. With everything Moira had been dealing with, a break was long overdue.

Peggy exhaled, rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll take him for one session.”

Dante perked up. “Wait, really?”

“And you’re going to listen,” Peggy warned.

Dante saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Peggy sighed, already questioning her decision. “Get outside. I’ll be there shortly.”

As he jogged off, she turned to Howard. “Bring a fire extinguisher. Just in case.”

Howard grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Moira shook her head, amused, but before she could say anything, a rush of blue light filled the room.

Gordon materialised, his expression composed but carrying a hint of frustration. His gaze swept over the group, then landed on Moira. “No news.”

Moira’s stomach sank slightly, but she kept her expression neutral. “He’s still evading you?”

Gordon nodded. “We haven’t been able to track him. There haven’t been any more attacks.”

Peggy, arms folded, added, “S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t heard of anything either. No new reports, no unusual activity.”

That, at least, was something. But it also meant they were running out of leads to find Toshiro.

Moira exhaled. “Then we need another approach.” She squared her shoulders. “We have a proposal.”

Gordon arched a brow. “Go on.”

“We want to work with the X-Men.”

Gordon’s brow furrowed. “The X-Men?”

“They’re mutants,” Moira explained. “I assume you know what mutants are.”

He inclined his head slightly. “I do.”

“Then here’s what you need to know,” she continued. “One of them – Charles Xavier – is a telepath. A powerful one. And he has access to a device called Cerebro. It enhances his abilities and allows him to locate people across the world.”

Gordon’s expression darkened slightly. “A machine that lets a telepath track anyone?”

Moira met his gaze evenly. “Yes. And if we use it, we might be able to find Toshiro before he attacks again.”

Gordon’s jaw tightened. “A telepath with access to a machine that enhances his abilities,” he repeated, his tone flat. “You understand what you’re suggesting?”

Moira held his gaze. “I do. And I know it’s a risk. But right now, it’s the best lead we have.”

Gordon crossed his arms. “Bringing an outsider into this – especially one with abilities that invasive – is dangerous.”

Moira caught the shift in his stance, the guarded edge to his voice. She’d seen it before, not just from Gordon but from every Inhuman she had met at Afterlife. They were secretive by nature. Not just because of what they were, but because of the way many of them had been treated.

It reminded her of Erik and how his experiences with humans had shaped his entire outlook; how every betrayal, every moment of persecution had hardened him into someone who saw humanity as an enemy. But where Erik’s response had been rage, a campaign to strike first before humanity could knock them down, the Inhumans had taken a different approach. They didn’t seek war. They didn’t seek power. They simply withdrew, choosing secrecy over confrontation.

And that made this moment all the more important. If they were going to work together, if they were going to find a way to stop Toshiro before he hurt anyone else, she had to prove to Gordon that this wasn’t a mistake. Division X had solidified Erik’s mistrust of humanity; Moira wouldn’t ruin another first chance to bridge humanity and exceptionals together.

She kept her voice steady. “I understand why you’re hesitant. I do. But this is our best shot at finding Toshiro before he kills anyone else.”

Gordon exhaled sharply, glancing away for a moment. He was weighing it, she could tell. Turning the idea over, trying to find the best argument against it. Convincing him wouldn’t be easy.

After a long pause, he nodded. “I’ll take it to Jiaying.”

Moira nodded in return. “Good. If she has a better alternative, we’ll hear it. But we can’t afford to waste time.”

Gordon still didn’t look happy, but he inclined his head. “Expect an answer soon.”

And then, in another rush of blue light, he was gone.

Silence settled over the room for a moment before Howard let out a breath and clapped his hands together. “Well, that could’ve gone worse.”

Peggy hummed. “It could’ve gone better too.”

Moira ran a hand through her hair. “We’ll see what Jiaying says.”

Peggy nodded, then glanced toward the clock. “In the meantime, why don’t you check in with Charles? See how his progress is coming along.”

Moira hesitated. She had been meaning to, but now that it was time, she felt a flicker of uncertainty. Because if Jiaying agreed to the plan, it meant she would be seeing Charles again.

It had been easy enough to talk to him over the phone, to keep a sense of distance while she adjusted to everything that had changed. But seeing him in person, for the first time since becoming an Inhuman, felt different. What was he going to see when he looked at her now? What would he hear when he read her mind?

She had spent so long standing between worlds – between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the CIA, between humans and mutants. Now there was something new to add to the list. Another shift, another change. Could she really bring the X-Men and Inhumans together?

Peggy must have noticed because she gave her a pointed look. “We might be waiting a while for an answer from Jiaying. Let’s not waste time on our end.”

Howard smirked. “And while you do that, Peg and I will go see if Dante’s managed to set the garden on fire.”

Moira let out a breath, nodding. “Alright. I’ll call Charles.”

As Peggy and Howard left the room, Moira reached for the phone. She dialled the number, settling into the chair as she listened to the steady ring on the other end.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“Moira,” Charles said as soon as he picked up. His voice was lighter than the last time they spoke – no desperation, no barely contained panic. Just a quiet relief, like he had been waiting for her call.

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Hey. How did you know it was me?”

“Unsurprisingly, we don’t receive many calls. I took an educated guess. How are you getting along?”

She huffed softly. “With what?”

Charles chuckled. “All of it. How are you feeling?”

Moira exhaled, tilting her head slightly. “Physically? Fine. Stronger, faster… still getting used to that part. Mentally?” She hesitated. “It’s strange, Charles. I’m still me, but I feel like my mind is running ahead of me half the time. I see something, and suddenly I know how to do it. There’s no learning curve, no build-up. It’s just… there.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected – concern, maybe, or curiosity. But instead, Charles simply hummed thoughtfully.

“You always had a sharp mind,” he said. “Now it’s simply sharper.”

Moira let out a quiet laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And emotionally?”

She hesitated again but there was something in his voice, something patient and understanding, that put her at ease.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I keep thinking I should feel different. Like I’ve stepped into some new version of myself. But I still feel like me.”

Charles was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Perhaps that’s because you are.”

Moira swallowed.

They weren’t speaking around things anymore. The tension, the sharp edges that had framed their earlier conversations, had dulled.

She shifted the focus. “What about you? How are you doing?”

Charles sighed. “Still adjusting. Hank says I’m nearly weaned off the serum, but my telepathy is inconsistent. I can hear people’s thoughts nearby, but I can’t stretch beyond that.”

Moira frowned. “You’re not pushing yourself too fast, are you?”

There was a pause. “…Hank might say otherwise.”

Moira’s brow furrowed. “Charles.”

“I’m being careful,” he assured her. “But I can’t sit back and wait for everything to return on its own.”

Moira could hear something in his voice, something weary. “And the chair?”

Charles hesitated. “It’s necessary again.”

She could tell he was trying to keep his voice even, but she could hear the disappointment beneath it.

“You’re doing a good thing,” she said softly.

There was another pause before Charles exhaled. “I know.” A quiet smile in his voice now. “You always did have a way of keeping me grounded.”

Moira’s fingers curled slightly against the receiver, warmth spreading in her chest.

Before she could dwell on it, Charles spoke again. “And this Inhuman?”

She sighed. “Nothing new. Gordon came by, but they haven’t found him yet. No new attacks, at least, which means we’re stuck in a waiting game.”

Charles hummed. “And Jiaying?”

Moira pressed her lips together. “That’s the part I don’t know yet.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I told Gordon about Cerebro, about the possibility of working together. He didn’t like the idea.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of what you are,” she corrected. “They don’t trust outsiders, Charles. They keep themselves separate on purpose.”

She hesitated before adding, “I don’t know how Jiaying will react. I’m preparing for resistance.”

Charles was quiet for a moment, considering.

Moira shifted in her seat. “It’s like Erik,” she said finally. “Or some of the others I worked with in Division X. People who have seen the worst of humanity and decided the only ones they can trust are their own.” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “And you – you’re a telepath, Charles. What couldn’t you learn about them?”

That, more than anything, was going to be their biggest obstacle. Jiaying and her people kept their secrets close. To them, Charles was a risk.

“I see your point,” he admitted. “Though, I’m hardly the enemy here.”

Moira smiled faintly. “I know that. And maybe they will too, eventually.”

Charles hummed. “If anyone can bridge that gap, Moira, it’s you.”

Moira wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or just more pressure, but she didn’t argue.

“I’ll let you know when we have an answer,” she said instead.

“Of course.” His voice was warm. “Take care of yourself, Moira.”

“You too,” she murmured. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “And don’t push yourself too hard.”

Charles chuckled softly. “I promise. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

He had been saying that more freely lately, slipping it into their goodbyes as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But Moira wasn’t there yet.

So instead, she let the warmth linger between them before hanging up.

Moira sat still for a moment after placing the phone back on the receiver, letting the conversation settle in her mind.

Charles had always been open with his emotions – when he felt something, he didn’t hesitate to express it. And now, she could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he spoke to her. The quiet devotion. The certainty.

But she wasn’t certain. Not about him, not about them, not about where all of this was leading.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. She needed to focus.

Before she could gather her thoughts, a sudden flash of blue light filled the room.

Moira turned sharply, rising from her seat as Gordon materialised. But he wasn’t alone.

Jiaying stood beside him, composed as ever, but there was something unreadable in her expression.

Moira straightened, her mouth falling open in surprise. “Jiaying?”

“Moira,” she greeted. Her gaze swept over the room before landing on her fully. “I assume you weren’t expecting me.”

Moira shook her head. “I didn’t think you ever left Afterlife.”

Jiaying inclined her head. “Rarely.”

Which meant this was serious.

Jiaying stepped forward. “Gordon relayed your proposal. I came to ask you directly – how can you trust this man?”

Moira frowned. “Charles?”

Jiaying’s expression remained unreadable. “You told me what he did to you.”

Moira’s throat tightened.

Jiaying’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “A man who can erase memories. Manipulate minds. Is that someone we should entrust with the knowledge of our people?”

Moira exhaled. “He’s not like that.”

Jiaying lifted a brow.

“He made a mistake,” Moira admitted, keeping her voice steady. “A mistake he’s been trying to atone for ever since.”

Jiaying’s lips pressed together. “People don’t change so easily.”

Moira held her gaze. “He believes in protecting people, just like you do. Just like I do.”

Jiaying studied her, scepticism flickering in her eyes.

Moira inhaled slowly. “Do you have another way to find Toshiro before he attacks again?”

Silence.

Jiaying’s expression didn’t shift, but her hesitation spoke volumes.

Finally, she exhaled. “No.”

Moira took a slow breath, steadying herself. “Then we have to use every tool we can. Cerebro was built to locate mutants, but it works on humans too. If it can do that, there’s a chance it can find an Inhuman.”

Gordon’s expression darkened. “That’s a dangerous machine.”

Moira looked at him sharply.

“If S.H.I.E.L.D. truly wants to protect people like us, they should destroy it,” Gordon continued. “No one should have that kind of reach.”

Moira felt a flicker of frustration. “Charles has only ever used it to find mutants who needed help.”

Jiaying met her gaze levelly. “That you know of.”

Moira hesitated, lips pressing together. She thought back to a conversation with Charles – how he admitted to using Cerebro to try and find her when she had disappeared. It wasn’t the same thing. But it wasn’t entirely different either.

She pushed past it. “This is the best lead we have. And the only way forward is if you and Charles meet.”

Jiaying’s expression remained unreadable.

Moira pressed on. “You don’t trust him. I understand that. But if you sit down with him, if you see what he’s actually like, you’ll realise that you have more in common than you think.”

Gordon immediately stiffened. “Absolutely not.”

Moira turned to him.

He shook his head. “Charles Xavier is a telepath. Do you have any idea how much information he would learn just by being in the same room as Jiaying?”

Moira frowned.

“They’d have an unfair advantage right away,” Gordon continued. “We have spent generations keeping Afterlife hidden, keeping our people safe. You’re asking us to let an outsider into that world. A man who can reach into minds and take whatever he wants.”

Moira exhaled. “Charles doesn’t do that.”

Gordon’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t think he would take your memories either.”

The words hit hard.

Moira inhaled slowly, steadying herself. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But this is the best chance we have to find Toshiro before he kills again. If you have another way, I’m listening.”

Before Jiaying could say anything else, a new voice cut through the tension.

“Well, this all sounds wonderfully dramatic.”

Moira turned just as Howard strolled in from the hallway, a glass of scotch in one hand and his usual smirk firmly in place. “But I couldn’t help overhearing,” he continued, “and I think I have a solution. Lucky you.”

Jiaying regarded him coolly, but Gordon looked distinctly unimpressed.

Howard gestured between them. “You don’t trust a telepath because they can just waltz into your mind and poke around in all your little secrets. And you know what? Fair concern.” He took a sip of his drink. “So I built a solution.”

Moira’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Howard grinned. “Been doing some research on our old pal Erik Lehnsherr. Alias: Magneto. Nasty guy by the sounds of things, but damn if he doesn’t have some cool tech. You see, he’s got this helmet…”

“The one that blocks Charles’ powers,” Moira said, the pieces snapping together fast.

Howard pointed at her. “Ding ding ding. Russian scientists built the original for Sebastian Shaw, Erik swiped it, and then he souped it up to make sure even the strongest telepath couldn’t get inside his head.” He set his drink down and clapped his hands. “And I made my own.”

Jiaying’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A prototype?”

Moira barely heard Jiaying’s response because she was still reeling.

Howard had built something that could block Charles? And he hadn’t told her?

A flash of irritation sparked in her chest, but she shoved it down. This wasn’t the time to look divided in front of Jiaying and Gordon.

Howard scoffed, swirling his drink. “Prototype? Please. I’m smarter than any Soviet scientist, and Magneto doesn’t have advanced degrees in physics and mechanical engineering like I do.” He shot Jiaying a self-assured smirk. “I’d bet good money this works even better than his.”

Moira shot him a flat look. “You’re very humble about it.”

Howard grinned. “I know my strengths.” He leaned forward, setting his glass on the coffee table. “So, if I give you this helmet, will you go?”

Gordon traded a look with Jiaying.

“We have a telepath at Afterlife.” Jiaying said evenly. “If the helmet truly works, I will consider your proposal.”

Howard grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Without hesitation, he turned and grabbed a sleek, reinforced case sitting on a nearby table. With a click, he popped it open, revealing the smooth, polished metal of the helmet inside.

Jiaying stepped forward, examining it carefully, then nodded once to Gordon.

Gordon sighed, displeased but resigned, and placed a hand on her shoulder. With a pulse of blue light, they were gone – helmet and all.

The moment they vanished, Moira turned on Howard. “You built a telepath-proof helmet and didn’t tell me?”

Howard picked up his scotch, taking a slow sip. “I had my reasons.”

Moira folded her arms, barely containing her frustration. “Don’t pull that crap. Not with me.”

Howard sighed, setting his glass down. “Alright, fine. When we were working on getting your memories back, Xavier left a bad taste in my mouth. Didn’t trust him. Still don’t.” He met her gaze evenly. “And let’s not pretend you did either. You said it yourself, you were afraid he’d wipe your memories again.”

Moira clenched her jaw but didn’t argue. Because he wasn’t wrong.

“So I built insurance,” Howard continued. “A little extra line of defence, just in case.”

Moira exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. She understood why he had done it, and part of her even appreciated it. But… “You still should have told me.”

Howard smirked, picking up his drink again. “Then you would’ve argued with me about it.”

“And I would’ve been right.”

“That’s debatable.” He grabbed his jacket, tossing it over his shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to tell Peggy that we just handed Jiaying a piece of cutting-edge Stark technology. Should be a fun conversation.”

Moira sighed, rubbing her temple. As if she didn’t already have enough to deal with.

Moira stared at the space where Jiaying and Gordon had disappeared, the faint shimmer of blue light still burned into her vision.

The room felt too quiet now, the conversation lingering in the air like an unfinished thought.

She let out a slow breath, but it did nothing to ease the weight pressing against her ribs.

Her fingers curled against her arms as an old, familiar memory resurfaced – the hollow emptiness of knowing something had been taken from her. The constant ache of trying to piece together a past she couldn’t fully grasp. The way she had known Charles had done it, and still not being able to remember the moment he did.

She had spent years living with that violation. And now, here she was, watching Howard hand Jiaying a way to stop it from ever happening again.

The helmet. A telepath-proof shield. A guarantee that no one, not even Charles, could reach inside her head.

Moira swallowed, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose.

She shouldn’t want it, but she did. And she hated that.

Her mind flickered back to the last time she had seen Charles in person – standing in his office, his telepathy stripped away, her mind unreachable. And the feeling that had swept through her in that moment: relief.

She had been relieved. And that terrified her more than anything.

Because now, for the first time, she truly let herself ask the question she had been avoiding for weeks.

What kind of future could she and Charles possibly have when part of her would never trust him?

Chapter Text

The steady hum of the plane’s engines filled the cabin, a smooth and constant vibration beneath Moira’s feet. Outside the small window, clouds stretched endlessly beneath them, the world below obscured in a thick white haze.

Howard sat in the pilot’s seat, hands relaxed on the controls, looking far too pleased with himself. Peggy, seated beside him in the co-pilot’s chair, was doing most of the actual work, adjusting dials and calling into air traffic control with the crisp efficiency of someone who had long since learned to function around Howard’s whims.

Moira, meanwhile, sat further back, chin resting on her fist, lost in thought.

They were nearly there.

Soon, she would be standing in front of Charles again, stepping back into a world that had once felt like hers before her memories had been taken, before she had become something else entirely. This wasn’t just a reunion. It was a collision of past and present, of loyalties and identities she was still working to untangle.

And Charles still didn’t know about the helmet.

Moira pressed her lips together. That conversation was going to be difficult. Jiaying had made it a condition for meeting, and Moira understood why. But she also worried how Charles would take it.

A sudden jostle of movement beside her snapped her back to the present.

Dante stretched out in his seat, arms behind his head, the picture of barely contained excitement. “So,” he said, grinning, “how much longer till we get to Mutant HQ?”

Moira shot him a look. “You know it’s called Xavier School, right?”

“Yeah, but Mutant HQ sounds cooler.”

Howard, still focused on the controls, snorted. “Kid’s got a point.”

Dante ignored Moira’s exasperation and pressed on. “So, which one of them has the coolest power?”

Moira sighed. “Dante…”

“Oh, come on,” he cut in. “I finally get to meet a whole different kind of powered people. I know what it’s like to be around Inhumans, but mutants? That’s new.”

She shook her head, but there was no real bite to it. Dante was excited. This was an adventure to him; seeing more exceptionals like himself, testing the limits of what was possible.

“Just remember,” she said, levelling him with a look, “you’re here to observe. Peggy’s been very clear…”

“I know, I know.” He held up his hands. “No taking over conversations, no setting anything on fire, and definitely no boasting that Howard made me a fireproof suit.” He paused. “Which, by the way, is still the coolest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Howard smirked. “I do what I can.”

Peggy’s voice was crisp as she called into air traffic control, confirming their approach. Howard, utterly relaxed, made a smooth descent, the plane gliding onto the private airstrip with practised ease.

Moira barely felt the wheels touch the ground before Howard was flipping switches and shutting down the engine. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you stick a landing,” he declared, far too pleased with himself.

Peggy shot him a look but didn’t comment. Instead, she turned back to Moira and Dante.

“There’s a car waiting for us,” she informed them, already unbuckling her harness.

A short walk from the plane, a sleek black car sat idling on the tarmac. Howard tossed the keys to Peggy – whether out of genuine courtesy or because she would take them otherwise was up for debate. Either way, she caught them without hesitation and slid into the driver’s seat.

Moira settled into the front passenger side while Howard and Dante took the back.

As they pulled onto the road, Peggy wasted no time. “Let’s go over this again,” she said. “Smooth introductions, keep things professional. Moira, you’ll give them an update on Toshiro Watanabe. Then we summon Jiaying and Gordon. Our job from there is to mediate.”

Dante huffed from the back seat. “Our job? Pretty sure my job is to keep my mouth shut and not embarrass anyone.”

Moira glanced at him through the mirror. “Correct.”

Howard smirked, lounging against the seat. “Don’t take it personally, kid. It’s not every day you introduce two secret societies to each other. You don’t just dive into that mess without a bit of diplomacy.”

Dante crossed his arms but didn’t argue.

Moira turned her gaze back to the road. They were getting close now. The winding route to the mansion was familiar, but this time, everything felt different. She was different.

She kept waiting for Charles to reach out, for his presence to brush against her mind like it always used to. But there was nothing.

It should have made her feel more at ease. Instead, she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Her head should be spinning with everything she had to juggle – the meeting, Toshiro, Jiaying’s wariness, the X-Men’s inevitable questions. But instead, she switched between them easily, her mind compartmentalising at an unnatural speed. Another reminder of what had changed.

She inhaled slowly as the iron gates of the Xavier estate loomed ahead. The car rolled up the long driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tyres as the mansion came into view. It was just as Moira remembered – imposing yet familiar, its grandeur softened by the sprawling greenery surrounding it.

Waiting at the front entrance was a small welcoming party.

Hank stood in his blue form, arms crossed, fingers twitching like he was resisting the urge to pace. Alex stood beside him, his stance wary but not outright hostile, while Sean, true to form, grinned broadly as soon as he spotted their car.

And then there was Charles. Seated in his chair at the centre of the group, he held himself with careful composure, but Moira could see the tension in his shoulders, the anticipation in his expression. He wanted answers.

Beside her, Howard smirked as he peered out the window at the looming mansion. “Quaint little place, isn’t it.”

Peggy didn’t even look at him. “Behave.”

The car came to a smooth stop, and they stepped out.

The late morning air was crisp, sunlight casting long shadows across the stone path. Moira adjusted her jacket, keenly aware of the suit beneath it – Howard’s design, fitted for both practicality and protection. Dante had his own covered under layers as well.

Moira kept one eye on him but, at least for the moment, he was doing as instructed – hanging back and letting them take the lead.

Howard, ever the showman, straightened his jacket and strode forward with an easy confidence. “You must be Professor X.”

Charles gave him a polite nod. “Mr Stark.”

“Oh, let’s not be formal. You’re Charles, I’m Howard. We can save the ‘mister’ nonsense for people who give a damn about decorum.”

Peggy shot Howard a look but extended a hand to Charles. “It’s good to meet you.”

Charles took her hand warmly. “Agent Carter.”

“Peggy will do.”

Only after pleasantries had been exchanged did Charles’s gaze drift behind them.

Dante stood a step back, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders squared but not tense. He was doing what Peggy had told him – observing, not leading.

Charles’s expression softened slightly. “And who might this be?”

Moira took the lead. “This is Dante Pertuz.” She gestured towards the group. “Dante, these are the X-Men: Hank McCoy, Alex Summers, Sean Cassidy, and Professor Charles Xavier.”

Dante hesitated for only a second before stepping forward. “Uh. Hey.”

Charles extended his hand in greeting, his expression open and welcoming.

Dante stared at it, brow furrowing slightly, before finally accepting the handshake. A second later, his shoulders tensed, his expression twisting into a grimace.

“Moira told me you’d do that,” he muttered. “Still creepy.”

Hank’s sharp blue eyes narrowed, his fur bristling, but Charles remained unruffled.

“It’s alright, Hank,” he assured him, releasing Dante’s hand. “My abilities tend to incur that reaction.”

Charles turned his attention back to Dante. “Moira has spoken very highly of you. I’m glad to finally meet you in person.”

Dante glanced at Moira, who gave him a small, encouraging nod.

Charles continued, his voice even. “I imagine Afterlife was quite the adjustment, but you seem to have adapted well. Your control has improved significantly.”

Dante stiffened. His fingers curled slightly, and a faint wisp of smoke rose from his palms.

Alex, noticing, immediately frowned. “Uh, his hands are smoking.”

Charles, studying Dante with curiosity rather than concern, didn’t move. “Fascinating.”

Moira touched Dante’s arm lightly, steadying him. “Just breathe, Dante. You’re fine.”

Dante muttered out the side of his mouth, “Sure, but blue guy over there looks ready to lunge.”

“I assure you, Hank is perfectly in control,” Charles said smoothly. “Though if you’re going to lose control, I’d rather you do it out here than inside my study. I don’t have the Stark fortune to rebuild an entire wing of my home.”

Dante’s head snapped up.

Moira barely had a second to realise what had happened; Charles had pulled that from Dante’s mind. The memory of Jamaica. The flames, the destruction, Howard shrugging it off like it was a minor inconvenience.

The combination of the charged moment, the unease of being surrounded by strangers, and Charles’s offhand telepathy pulling out his past mistake struck like a match against dry tinder. Dante’s body reacted before his mind caught up.

His skin hardened, cracks glowing with molten fire as his transformation took hold. Flames burst from the seams of his rock-like form, heat rolling off him in waves. The only thing left untouched was the suit Howard had designed, the specialised fabric holding against the inferno and stretching with his imposing frame.

Howard, arms crossed, nodded approvingly. “See? Told you the suit would hold up.”

Peggy sighed, unimpressed despite her own prediction also bearing fruit. “Marvellous.”

The moment Dante’s transformation had started, Hank took a measured step forward, muscles tensed, prepared to act.

“Hank,” Charles warned.

But Dante had already noticed the movement. Instinct flared in his stance, his weight shifting forward, ready for a fight he didn’t want but wasn’t about to back down from.

Moira didn’t hesitate.

She pivoted sharply, planting her left foot and swinging her right in a precise arc. Her boot connected with Dante’s side, sending him skidding back across the gravel driveway. He landed in a cloud of smoke and flickering embers, his flames sputtering before finally fading.

Moira strode over, ignoring the startled silence behind her.

“You alright?”

Dante coughed, waving away the smoke. “Yeah. Sorry. Lost my cool.” He patted his chest. “At least the suit’s still intact.”

Howard smirked at the mutants. “That’s my design.”

Sean, wide-eyed, took a cautious step back. “What the hell was that?”

Alex was more direct. “Since when do you have super strength?”

Moira sighed, turning to face them.

“There’s something you need to know.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a mutant?”

Before she could answer, Charles did.

“No, Alex,” he said calmly, his gaze locked onto Moira’s. “She’s something else. An Inhuman.”

The weight of Charles’s words lingered between them.

Alex’s frown deepened, his posture shifting as he turned to Moira. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Hank’s hands twitched at his sides, his sharp gaze sweeping over Moira with renewed scrutiny, while Sean looked between them all, clearly waiting for someone to explain.

Before Moira could answer, Charles exhaled, his tone gently commanding. “Let’s take this conversation inside.”

Howard clapped his hands together and strode toward the entrance. “Finally. Thought we were going to spend this whole day standing on the driveway.”

Moira sighed but followed, feeling the others fall into step beside her. Dante hovered closer to her than before, his body language more reserved after his brief loss of control. She felt a protective urge to reach out but didn’t, remaining as a barrier between him and the X-Men until he regained his confidence.

Inside, Charles led them toward his new office on the ground floor. The space was different from the last time Moira had been here – rearranged, more bookshelves stacked against the walls, the large desk placed to give Charles an unobstructed view of the door.

The moment the door shut behind them, Alex crossed his arms. “Alright. Start talking.”

Moira exhaled, taking in the room, the people in it; her team and the X-Men, just two of the groups she was trying to bridge together. Then, finally, she spoke.

“Inhumans are a genetic offshoot of humanity,” she began. “Like mutants, we carry something in our DNA that makes us different. But unlike mutants, that gene doesn’t activate on its own.” She let that sink in before continuing. “It requires an external trigger – the Terrigen Mist. It forces the transformation, reshaping the person into whatever they were meant to be.”

Hank’s brows lifted slightly. “Forced mutation.”

Moira inclined her head. “Dante didn’t choose it. He was caught in an attack.”

Dante shifted uncomfortably behind her at the reminder.

Moira hesitated before adding, “I did.”

That made Alex’s jaw tighten. “You chose to mutate yourself?”

Moira met his gaze steadily. “I chose to unlock something that was always there.”

Sean let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Charles studied her closely, but there was no judgment in his expression.

Alex asked, “What can you do?”

Moira’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. “Mimicry. I can learn anything I see.”

Hank’s interest piqued further. “Temporarily?”

“No. Permanently.”

Hank looked like he wanted to start running tests immediately, but Moira wasn’t finished.

“There’s something else,” she said, bringing the conversation back to the reason they were here. “An Inhuman named Toshiro Watanabe has been attacking people. Forcing Terrigenesis on those who carry the gene.”

“Like me.” Dante muttered.

Charles’s expression darkened.

“If they don’t have the gene,” Moira continued, voice steady, “they die.”

The room went silent.

Peggy was the one to break it. “We need to find him before he attacks again.”

Charles leaned back slightly, his fingers interlacing in his lap. He turned to his team. “That’s why I agreed to help locate him.”

Moira exhaled slowly, glancing at Charles. “So, what’s the next step?”

Charles hesitated. “That depends.”

Moira frowned. “On what?”

He shifted slightly in his chair, studying her. “On whether or not Cerebro will work on Inhumans.”

A small crease formed between Moira’s brows. “You can hear Dante well enough.”

“Yes,” Charles admitted. “But with you, it’s like trying to pick out a single voice in a crowded stadium. I’ve been trying to reach your mind since you arrived, but I can’t get a lock on it.”

Moira stiffened. “You’ve been trying?”

Charles held up a placating hand. “Not to intrude. Only to test whether I could.”

She blinked. She hadn’t even felt him trying. No flicker of awareness, no pressure against her thoughts. Nothing.

Howard, who had been leaning back in his chair, suddenly straightened. “Huh.”

Moira turned to him. “What?”

Howard gestured loosely in her direction. “Your neural activity is off the charts. You’re processing information faster than I’ve ever seen. Maybe…” he gestured between her and Charles “…you’re thinking too fast for his telepathy to track.”

Moira’s stomach dipped.

She turned back to Charles, who was watching her intently.

Could that be true?

Was it possible that she could control it – him? That, when she wanted, she could keep Charles Xavier out?

Hope curled in her chest.

Peggy’s voice cut through the moment. “We need to focus. The Inhumans are coming.”

Moira exhaled slowly, gripping the armrest of her chair. She had been avoiding this part.

“There’s something you should know,” Moira said carefully. “Jiaying agreed to the meeting, but only on one condition.”

She hesitated, then forced herself to continue.

“They insisted on a helmet. One that blocks telepathic intrusion.”

Hank’s expression darkened immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Charles lifted a hand in a calming gesture. “Hank.”

But the scientist wasn’t finished. “You’re saying they refuse to meet without a way to shut you out completely?” He shook his head. “That’s absurd.”

Charles, however, remained composed. “I’d still like to hear them out.”

Howard, sensing the tension rising, leaned back in his chair with an easy smirk. “Now, now, let’s not get all worked up. It’s just a little insurance policy. You did wipe her memories before.”

Alex let out a sharp scoff, giving the Professor a side-eye that would make weaker men whither. “Yeah, and that worked out great for everyone.”

Moira cut in before the conversation could turn into another argument. “You don’t understand. The Inhumans don’t trust outsiders. It took this much just to get them to consider meeting you.”

Hank still looked displeased, but Charles made the final call. “If that’s what they need to facilitate this meeting, then so be it.”

Moira let out a quiet breath. That was one obstacle down.

Howard clapped his hands together. “Great. Now, before we bring in the Inhumans, let’s figure out if we can actually find our guy.”

Charles nodded. “We need to determine whether Cerebro can detect Inhumans at all.”

Howard leaned forward. “And what do you need for that?”

Charles glanced at Dante and Moira. “A baseline. We need to test it on one of you first before we attempt to search for Toshiro.”

Hank pushed up from his seat. “I’ll take Mr Stark down to Cerebro. I can walk him through the process.”

Howard grinned. “Fantastic. I love a good test run.” He turned to Dante. “You’re coming.”

Dante blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah, kid. You’re the perfect test subject.”

Dante hesitated before shrugging. “Guess I should be used to that by now.”

Alex stood as well. “I’ll go too.”

Moira raised a brow. “Oh?”

Alex shot a glance at Hank before looking back at her. “Just keeping the peace.”

Moira didn’t argue.

With that, the group moved to head for Cerebro, leaving Moira and Peggy behind with Charles.

As the others departed, Peggy turned to Charles, her expression poised but genuine. “I want to thank you, Professor, for your willingness to meet with us. I know this isn’t an easy situation.”

Charles studied her carefully, a glimmer of curiosity in his sharp blue eyes. “Your organisation has had… mixed reactions to those with exceptional abilities.”

Peggy inclined her head. “That’s true. But I can assure you that we’re here in good faith. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t in the business of hunting down people for what they are. Only for what they do.”

Charles hummed, as though weighing her words. Then he offered a small, knowing smile. “Your history with exceptionals is rather reassuring, Agent Carter. You’ve worked with them before.”

Peggy’s lips pressed together briefly before she nodded. “I have.”

Moira expected Charles to leave it there, but instead, he added, “In fact I believe you still work with one: Jason Wilkes.”

Moira’s breath caught.

She forced herself to remain composed, but inside, her mind spun. Jason? Moira glanced at Peggy, but the other woman’s expression gave nothing away. She filed the information away for later. Right now, they had more pressing matters.

Charles steepled his fingers, observing Peggy with keen interest. “As for Steve Rogers,” he mused. “A man of remarkable courage. And yet, history seems to have largely forgotten him.”

Peggy’s expression didn’t waver. “History forgets plenty of remarkable people. That doesn’t mean they lose their importance.”

Something flickered in Charles’s gaze – approval, perhaps. “You’ve made a career of working with extraordinary individuals. First the SSR, then S.H.I.E.L.D. But your agency doesn’t always share your views, does it?”

Peggy exhaled, leaning back in her chair. “S.H.I.E.L.D. was built to protect the world from threats beyond the average person’s comprehension. But that doesn’t mean we view every exceptional individual as a threat.”

Charles arched a brow. “That’s not always the case, though, is it? There are still many who fear what they don’t understand.”

Peggy’s jaw tightened. “Fear doesn’t justify cruelty. I’ve seen what happens when people act out of fear rather than reason, and I won’t be part of it.”

Moira, watching the exchange, could tell that Charles wasn’t trying to be antagonistic – he was trying to understand.

He tilted his head slightly. “Then what do you believe, Agent Carter?”

Peggy’s gaze didn’t waver. “I believe the world is dangerous enough without tearing itself apart over who belongs in it.”

Charles regarded her for a long moment before offering a small nod. “A sentiment I can respect.”

Peggy’s shoulders eased slightly, but her expression remained firm. “I don’t expect you to trust S.H.I.E.L.D. I wouldn’t, if I were you. But I do expect you to trust Moira.”

At that, Charles’s gaze flickered to Moira, something unreadable passing behind his eyes.

“She’s one of the best agents we have,” Peggy continued. “And one of the best people I’ve ever met. If she believes this alliance is worth pursuing, then I will do everything in my power to see it through.”

Charles considered her words carefully before nodding. “Then I suppose we’ll see where this takes us.”

Chapter Text

The study was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fireplace. The conversation between Peggy and Charles had come to a natural close, and Moira found herself lost in thought, turning over every word exchanged. Charles had hinted at something she hadn’t known – something about Jason – but she had no time to dwell on it now.

The door swung open, drawing everyone’s attention. Howard Stark strolled back in, exuding his usual confidence. He clapped his hands together. “Alright, Cerebro works. Theoretically, it should pick up on Inhumans the same way it picks up on mutants. The only question is how clearly we’ll get a location. It might be more vague than it is with mutants; a general location rather than exact coordinates.”

Moira turned to Charles. “How soon can you try?”

Charles considered for a moment. “I’ll need some time to prepare, but soon. Within the hour.”

Peggy gave a firm nod. “Then let’s not waste time.”

Moira took a steady breath and spoke his name.

“Gordon.”

The response was near-instantaneous. A familiar pulse of blue light filled the room, and when it faded, Gordon stood in its place.

Jiaying was beside him, poised as ever, her sharp eyes sweeping across the room. But it wasn’t just her presence that caught Moira’s attention. Both she and Gordon wore helmets.

Not identical helmets. Gordon’s was unmistakably the one Howard had given them – sleek, polished, unmistakably a Stark design. But Jiaying’s was different. Slightly older, its edges less refined, as though it had been constructed with different technology.

A ripple of tension passed through the gathered group. Moira didn’t react, but she felt Peggy shift beside her. Howard, never one to let something go unremarked, muttered, “Well, that’s interesting.”

Moira ignored him, stepping forward with practiced diplomacy.

“Professor Xavier, this is Jiaying, the leader of Afterlife.”

Charles, ever composed, inclined his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jiaying returned the gesture, her expression unreadable. “And you.”

The air between them held an unmistakable weight. Two leaders, two vastly different worlds, brought together by necessity.

Moira kept her posture composed, despite the tension thrumming beneath the surface.

Howard, always one to break tension with humour, raised an eyebrow at the two helmets. “Huh. Either great minds think alike, or I should start worrying about industrial espionage.”

Jiaying’s lips twitched, but she didn’t quite smile. “Afterlife developed its own measures against telepathy years ago.” She touched the edge of her helmet. “We needed to be sure your design was legitimate before taking this step.”

Charles inclined his head slightly. “I appreciate your willingness to come here. This meeting is on your terms – whatever makes you comfortable.”

Jiaying regarded him for a moment before nodding once, acknowledging the gesture but not relaxing.

Jiaying’s gaze flickered back to Moira, assessing. “So, this is the mutant you trust?”

Her tone was neutral, but there was no mistaking the scrutiny beneath it.

Moira met her eyes without hesitation. “He is.”

Jiaying’s head tilted slightly. “This is the mutant that wiped your memories?”

Moira’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “Yes.”

Jiaying let the silence stretch between them before arching a brow. “And you expect us to emulate your trust?”

Moira inhaled slowly. “I expect you to make that choice for yourselves.”

Jiaying studied her, then shifted her gaze back to Charles. “You understand why I hesitate.”

Charles, who had been listening carefully, inclined his head. “I do.” His voice remained calm, measured. “And I won’t insult you by asking for blind trust. But I will ask you to judge me on my actions, not just my past mistakes.”

Jiaying’s expression didn’t shift. “We’ll see.”

“You told me you’d encountered mutants before.” Moira said.

Jiaying’s expression didn’t shift. “I have.”

Charles, ever composed, inclined his head slightly. “Then I’m sorry if those encounters have given you reason to be wary.” His voice was even, measured. “I assure you, I have no ulterior motive. My only concern is protecting innocent lives from harm.”

His voice was calm, an assurance rather than a defence.

Moira took a measured breath, stepping in before the conversation could veer into another bout of distrust. “None of us want Toshiro causing more deaths. Or forcing anyone else through Terrigenesis.” She let that sink in for a moment before adding, “We all want the same thing here.”

Jiaying looked back to Charles. “And you believe you can find him?”

Charles folded his hands in his lap. “Possibly. Cerebro was designed to locate mutants, but in doing so, it detects all human minds to a degree. Whether it will register an Inhuman as something distinct, we don’t yet know.”

Jiaying’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “And if you find him?” Her tone was careful, edged with a warning. “Then what?”

Peggy, who had been listening quietly, took a measured step forward. “Then we stop him.”

Jiaying’s sharp gaze turned to her.

Peggy’s voice remained level. “This isn’t just a S.H.I.E.L.D. operation, nor is it solely a matter for the X-Men or the Inhumans. Toshiro has killed civilians and forced others through genetic modification. We all have a stake in this.”

Jiaying remained silent, her expression unreadable. Finally, she moved and gave an incline of her head. “Very well.”

Moira’s shoulders loosened slightly, but Jiaying wasn’t finished.

“But when we find him, he will be returned to Afterlife.”

Howard scoffed. “Hold on, you don’t get to call dibs. He’s a murderer. He should be taken in by S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Jiaying’s gaze was steely. “He is Inhuman. He will answer for his crimes among his own people.”

Peggy, ever the diplomat, stepped in before the argument could escalate. “I understand your position.” She met Jiaying’s gaze evenly. “But we need access to him. We need to understand his motive – how he got the synthetic crystals, why he’s forcing Terrigenesis. We can’t prevent further attacks like this in the future unless we have answers.”

Jiaying was silent for a long moment. Then, with a small nod, she said, “You may question him. But he remains in Afterlife’s custody.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

“Deal.”

Charles inclined his head. “Then let’s not waste time.”

Jiaying remained still for a moment longer, then gave a sharp nod.

The shift in the room was subtle but undeniable. They had reached an agreement for now.

Moira exhaled, stepping back as the group prepared to move. “Cerebro’s this way.”

As they walked, Jiaying kept close to Gordon, speaking to him in hushed tones. Charles, though composed, was clearly keeping an eye on them. Moira, caught between them, felt the weight of balancing both sides pressing harder than ever. They were two entirely different worlds – one hidden by choice, the other by necessity. And she was standing between them, trying to build a bridge no one had ever attempted before.

Howard strode ahead with an easy confidence, hands in his pockets as he glanced back at Hank. “Well, McCoy, time to fire up that fancy machine of yours.”

Hank shot him a look but didn’t bite. “It’s not a matter of simply switching it on. The calibrations need to be precise, or we’ll get interference.”

Howard smirked. “Good thing you’ve got a genius in the room.”

Hank sighed but didn’t protest. They had already worked together to adjust the machine using Dante as a baseline, and despite himself, Hank had begrudgingly acknowledged that Howard knew what he was doing.

Dante, walking beside Moira, leaned in slightly. “So, what’s the over-under on those two actually getting along by the end of this?”

Moira smirked. “Let’s just say if Hank doesn’t throw Howard out the window, I’ll call it a win.”

Dante chuckled. “Fair enough.”

As they reached the entrance to Cerebro, Moira took a steadying breath.

The real test was about to begin.

Charles turned toward the others. “Typically, I work alone when using Cerebro.” His gaze flickered to Jiaying. “But given the circumstances, I’d like you and Moira to observe.”

Jiaying’s expression remained unreadable, but she gave a small nod. “Very well.”

Gordon, however, tensed. “You expect her to go in there alone?”

Jiaying gave him a steady look. “I will be fine, Gordon.”

The tension between them was unmistakable, but after a long pause, Gordon inclined his head and stepped back, though his posture remained rigid.

With that settled, Moira followed Charles and Jiaying through the doors, which slid shut behind them with an ominous finality.

Cerebro was vast, a metallic sphere stretching out in all directions, its curved walls smooth and reflective. The floor beneath them was sleek, polished and devoid of any markings, giving the illusion of standing in an endless void. At the centre of it all, a raised platform housed the machine itself – a sleek, silver console connected to an intricate network of wires and circuits that pulsed with energy. The room hummed with quiet power, as if alive.

Charles stepped forward, his movements methodical as he reached for the helmet resting atop the console. He lifted it, the metal gleaming under the dim lighting, before settling it onto his head with practiced ease.

The moment it connected, the hum of the room deepened. The air shifted, charged with something unseen.

Moira’s breath caught as Charles straightened, his eyes sliding shut. His entire body went still, his expression smoothing into something almost serene. She had only witnessed this once before, but the effect was the same – watching him like this, completely immersed, was both awe-inspiring and unsettling.

Jiaying, standing beside her, remained impassive. But Moira didn’t miss the way her fingers twitched at her sides, as if suppressing an urge to react.

Charles’s voice was calm but distant, his focus elsewhere. “I’ll start with North America. His previous attacks were all within this range.”

The room was silent apart from the hum of Cerebro.

Moira watched, her pulse steady but her mind alert, as Charles sifted through the endless stream of thoughts. His brow furrowed slightly.

“There are… very few Inhuman minds,” he murmured. “Far fewer than I anticipated.”

Jiaying’s posture didn’t shift, but Moira could feel the tension radiating off her.

Charles’s head tilted slightly. “I’ve come across two Inhumans. They’re… definitely a pair.”

Jiaying’s voice was quiet but firm. “Ignore them.”

Charles didn’t argue, pressing forward. The seconds stretched, and then…

“There.”

Moira’s breath hitched.

Charles’s expression sharpened, his focus narrowing. “I see him. He’s alone.” A pause. “A city… Lights, movement… He’s in Chicago.”

Moira exchanged a quick look with Jiaying, whose expression finally shifted into a small smile.

Charles exhaled slowly. “I can’t hold onto him for long.”

Moira straightened. “Then we need to move.”

With careful precision, Charles began withdrawing from Cerebro’s grip, the energy in the room shifting as he pulled himself back to the present.

The low hum faded. The tension lingered.

Moira watched as he removed the helmet, his eyes fluttering open. He took a breath before glancing between her and Jiaying.

Jiaying inclined her head. “Thank you, Professor.” There was no warmth in her voice, but there was respect. Without another word, she turned and exited the chamber, no doubt to inform Gordon that they had their target.

Moira lingered, watching Charles as he adjusted to being back in the present. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction.

She offered a small, sincere smile. “Thank you.”

His expression softened. “Of course.”

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke, just looking to one another.

Then Moira exhaled and nodded toward the door. “Come on. We’ve got a fugitive to catch.”

They stepped out into the corridor, where the atmosphere had already shifted into something urgent and focused.

Howard was leaning over a table, already on the phone with the airfield. “Yeah, get the plane ready. Now. I don’t care about clearance.”

Peggy, meanwhile, was on another line, coordinating backup. “We’ll need agents stationed in Chicago immediately. No, I don’t have an exact location yet, but we’ll find him. I want containment teams prepped for civilian evacuations.”

Charles turned toward her. “You’ll have support if you need it. The X-Men can assist.”

Before Moira could respond, Jiaying cut in. “That won’t be necessary.”

Moira turned to see Jiaying rejoining them, Gordon just behind her. “The agreement was clear. S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Inhumans will handle this from here.”

Charles held her gaze for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. “Understood.”

“We appreciate your help, Professor,” Jiaying added, though her tone remained cool. “But it’s time for us to part ways.”

Nearby, Hank looked as though he was about to protest, his lips parting – but then, suddenly, he shut his mouth. His eyes widened disbelievingly before he shot Charles an exasperated look.

Moira arched a brow, glancing at Charles. “Did you just…”

“It’s for the best,” Charles murmured, his voice unreadable.

She huffed quietly but let it go.

Jiaying spoke again. “Gordon will meet you in Chicago to prepare.”

Gordon gave a nod, then reached out, touching Jiaying’s shoulder.

In a rush of blue light, they were gone.

Hank, still looking vaguely disgruntled, muttered something under his breath, before he shook his head and strode away toward his lab.

Moira arched a brow at Charles. “What was Hank going to say?”

Charles exhaled, rubbing his temple. “He was about to say something deeply unhelpful. I don’t need to be a mind reader to know that Gordon would have used to slightest provocation to write us off forever.”

“Speaking of grudges…”

Charles finished her thought. “I’ve already explained and apologised.”

Alex, watching the couple’s exchange with amusement, rocked back on his heels. Then, with the worst attempt at casual nonchalance Moira had ever seen, he turned to Dante. “Hey, since you’re gonna be working with us, how about a quick tour? This place is huge, lots to see. And I definitely don’t want to be in the way of these two…”

Moira gave him a look, and he cleared his throat. “…you know. Talking. About logistics. Mission stuff.”

Dante smirked, quickly catching on to Alex’s game. “Subtle.”

Alex clapped a hand on his back. “I try.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

As the two disappeared down the corridor, Moira shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her.

“I don’t think he could have been more obvious if he tried.”

Charles gave a small chuckle, then met her gaze. Without a word, he turned his chair toward the hallway, and she fell into step beside him as they left the bustle behind, walking toward his study.

The journey through the mansion was quieter than Moira expected. She thought back to the first time she’d set foot in this house. Back then, she had been an outsider. The only human in a home for mutants.

Before, the idea of a relationship with Charles had felt impossible. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, knowing that – whether he meant to or not – he could slip past her thoughts, see parts of her she wasn’t ready to share. She also couldn’t let go of the insecurity about her humanity.

She had spent years proving herself, making sure no one saw her as lesser simply because she was a woman. In Division X, she had to reckon with her inherent ordinariness. She didn’t have powers, she couldn’t fly or knock down walls. There had always been that whisper in the back of her mind. A fear that, among the people with extraordinary gifts, she would always be the exception. The weak link. The one left behind.

Being with Charles had only made that fear sharper. He had never made her feel small – never once spoken as if she were anything but his equal – but she had felt it all the same. A gnawing doubt that she couldn’t shake.

But now her power gave her control over her own mind. She wasn’t vulnerable – not to him, not to anyone. For the first time, she could be with Charles and know, without a doubt, that her thoughts were her own. And for the first time, she could look at him without that quiet voice of insecurity telling her she didn’t belong in his world.

It was… freeing.

They reached his study, and Charles rolled himself inside, gesturing for her to close the door. She did, leaning back against it as he regarded her carefully.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

Moira huffed a small laugh. “Just thinking.”

Charles tilted his head, a wry smile forming. “Ah, but I’ll have to take your word for it now, won’t I?”

Moira smirked, stepping forward. “I think you’ll survive.”

His smile didn’t fade, but his expression shifted into something more curious. “It’s… different.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

“The way I hear you.” He gestured vaguely toward his temple. “Before, your thoughts had a rhythm – clear, linear. Now, it’s as if there are layers of you speaking at once, shifting between frequencies. I catch glimpses, but not enough to piece things together.”

She frowned slightly. “Is that uncomfortable for you? It sounds like it could be overwhelming.”

Charles shook his head. “Not overwhelming. Just unfamiliar.” His voice was steady, reassuring. “I’ve spent my entire life filtering through voices, adjusting to the noise. This is no different. It’s simply… yours.”

Moira studied him, searching for any trace of discomfort. But his gaze was as calm as ever, warm with something she couldn’t quite name.

His smile softened. “I have to admit, I am fascinated by your ability. But that’s not why I admire you.”

His expression turned earnest, quiet conviction settling into his features.

“I’m interested in your powers because they’re an extension of you. And I want to know every part of you. But what made me love you is who you are. Your strength, your courage, your kindness.” His voice dropped slightly, as if confessing something he hadn’t even let himself say aloud. “Having powers doesn’t change that.”

Moira exhaled slowly, her fingers curling at her sides. “But it does change something,” she said. “For us.”

Charles nodded, unflinching. “It does. I won’t pretend otherwise.” His voice was steady, but she saw the shadow of guilt flicker behind his eyes. “After what I did to you, Moira, it was always going to be difficult to move forward. I took something from you that I had no right to take. I have no excuse for that. No justification.” He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head. “I never let myself believe we’d be here again. I didn’t even dare to hope.”

Moira hesitated before speaking. “I didn’t see a future for us either.”

His throat bobbed, but he didn’t interrupt.

She forced herself to continue. “And… I won’t lie to you. Knowing you can’t hear my thoughts is a relief.” She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “And I feel awful for thinking that. Your powers are a part of you, and I…”

“Moira.”

He cut her off gently, his voice firm but warm.

“Our powers don’t matter,” he said, voice laden with quiet certainty. “I loved you when you were human. I love you now. I will always love you – no matter who you become.”

Moira swallowed, something catching in her throat.

For a moment, she stood frozen, caught between everything that had come before and everything that could come next. The past still lingered – memories stolen, trust broken, the years spent apart. But beneath all of it was this: the pull she had fought against for so long, the feelings she had tried to rationalise away, now rising to the surface with undeniable certainty.

She took a slow, measured step forward. Then another.

Charles watched her, his expression open, waiting, hoping.

Moira hesitated for only a second before she moved toward him with purpose, closing the space between them. She bent down so they were at eye level, her fingers grazing his cheek before she cupped his face fully. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the familiarity of it sending a shiver down her spine.

Then she kissed him.

For the briefest moment, her mind flickered back to the last time – the kiss they had shared before he took everything from her. That moment had been goodbye. A kiss laced with sorrow, with finality. But this was different.

Charles exhaled softly against her lips, his hand rising to rest gently over hers. And then he kissed her back.

Moira let herself sink into it, focusing not on what had been lost, but on what was still here. What could still be.

This time, it wasn’t about the past.

It was about the future.

When they parted, he exhaled slowly, searching her gaze. “You have so much to offer the world, Moira. I see it. I’ve always seen it.”

Moira let her forehead rest against his for a brief moment.

“I believe in what I’m doing,” she murmured. “And after meeting Peggy, you have faith in S.H.I.E.L.D., don’t you?”

Charles nodded. “I do.”

He hesitated before adding, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to consider staying.”

Moira pulled back slightly, smiling. “I’ll think about it. After I find Toshiro.”

It wasn’t a promise. But it was something.

Chapter Text

The streets were still, the usual sounds of the city muffled, as if the air itself was holding its breath. This wasn’t the glistening downtown, all glass towers and corporate shine. This was the other side of Chicago – older, worn down, a place where the cracks in the city’s foundation weren’t hidden under luxury. The pavement was uneven, littered with old flyers and cigarette butts, and the neon glow of a flickering “Liquor & Lotto” sign barely reached the street.

Moira’s grip on her weapon tightened. She trusted their plan. She trusted the people backing her. But the silence, the unnatural stillness, unsettled her.

A block away, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved methodically, ushering the last of the civilians to safety. Their presence was unseen, unnoticed – just another quiet operation in a world that didn’t know how many times it had been saved.

She exhaled slowly, her breath ghosting in the cool night air. Then, without another word, she stepped inside.

The apartment building was as rundown as the street outside. Stained walls, dim lighting, the faint scent of damp creeping through the hallway.

Gordon moved beside her, his expression unreadable. If he felt the tension pressing down on them, he didn’t show it. He never did.

He was younger than her, still a teenager, but Moira had long since learned not to mistake youth for inexperience. Gordon had spent years mastering his ability, honing his control. Jiaying trusted him. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

They reached the stairwell, the metal door groaning softly as Moira pushed it open. The space smelled of rust and stale air, the hum of an old light bulb buzzing overhead.

She pressed a hand to her earpiece. “We’re heading up.”

Peggy’s voice crackled through. “Copy that, Agent 24. We’ll move in when you give the signal.”

From her vantage point, Peggy had full control of the op, but Moira didn’t need to see her to picture the way she stood – back straight, expression sharp, already considering every possible outcome.

Moira exhaled slowly, adjusting the grip on her weapon.

“Ready?” she murmured to Gordon.

He nodded, gaze locked on the darkened stairwell above.

And with that, they moved. Each step was deliberate, their footfalls muffled against the worn concrete stairs. Teleporting straight in was an option, but not one they were willing to risk – not when they still had no idea what Toshiro was capable of. Jiaying hadn’t overseen his Terrigenesis. No one in Afterlife had. Whatever power he had now was an unknown, and Moira had seen enough missions go sideways to know that unknowns were dangerous.

That meant stealth.

She led the way, Gordon just behind her, his breathing even, his body poised for movement. He didn’t fidget, didn’t shift his weight unnecessarily. He had learned how to be precise, how to move through space with intent. That kind of discipline didn’t come naturally to a teenager, but Gordon wasn’t like most teenagers.

Moira kept her focus ahead, but she had the layout of the building memorised. She didn’t need to stop to check their path – two flights up, hallway to the right, fourth door on the left. She could see it as clearly in her mind as if she had blueprints in front of her.

Still, something about this didn’t sit right.

It was too easy. It wasn’t that she doubted her own abilities – her powers had made everything sharper, faster, easier. But she’d been on enough operations to trust her instincts and right now, every nerve in her body was telling her something was wrong.

At the top of the stairs, she paused and glanced at Gordon. His face remained impassive, but she kept her voice low. “If this goes sideways, you get out. Find Peggy, bring in backup.”

He held her gaze for a moment before giving a single, resolute nod.

Moira exhaled slowly, adjusting her grip on her weapon, and turned down the hallway.

The apartment was just ahead.

She stopped.

The door was ajar. Not much – just enough to show a sliver of darkness beyond – but it made her pause.

She tightened her hold on her gun, her breath steadying.

Then, with a flick of her fingers, she gestured to Gordon.

They were going in.

Moira eased the door open with the barrel of her gun, stepping inside first. The apartment was dim, the only light coming from the flickering neon glow of a sign outside the window. It was small, barely furnished. A couch was shoved against one wall, a table cluttered with scattered papers beneath an old fashioned rotary phone, and empty takeout containers littered the kitchen.

And in the centre of it all, standing perfectly still, was Toshiro.

He didn’t startle. He didn’t reach for a weapon or make a move to run. He had been expecting them.

His gaze flickered past Gordon, settling on Moira instead.

“Who are you?”

His voice was calm, but there was an edge of calculation beneath it.

Gordon stepped forward, his stance unwavering. “She’s one of us,” he said simply. “And it’s time to go home. Your game is over.”

Toshiro didn’t move. His gaze sharpened. “How did you find me?”

Moira didn’t blink. “It’s over, Toshiro. You have nowhere to run.”

At that, he scoffed. “You think I was running?”

His fingers flexed at his sides.

Moira barely had time to register the movement before the air crackled.

A sharp bolt of electricity snapped through the space between them. She moved instinctively, diving to the side as it struck the floor where she had been standing a moment before. Sparks flared.

Gordon was already gone, teleporting out of the way just before another surge of electricity ripped through the air.

Toshiro was controlled. Focused. Every movement was deliberate, each attack precise.

Moira kept moving, keeping distance, forcing him to readjust. Gordon flickered in and out of sight, trying to close the gap, but Toshiro didn’t panic. He shifted his footing, grounding himself before unleashing another controlled burst of power.

They weren’t gaining ground.

Moira pressed a hand to her earpiece. “Peggy, we need backup…”

Before she could finish, Gordon reappeared behind Toshiro.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He struck, gripping Toshiro’s arm and twisting, breaking his balance in a single, fluid movement. Toshiro tried to discharge another bolt, but Gordon was faster. He teleported again – just a short distance – disorienting Toshiro before slamming him into the floor with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs.

Toshiro groaned, struggling weakly, but Gordon wasn’t done. He picked up the telephone from the coffee table and, without a moment’s pause, struck Toshiro over the back of the head, sending the Inhuman crumpling to the floor.

Moira lowered her weapon. She had never doubted Gordon’s skill, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely. He had barely broken a sweat. No hesitation, no wasted movement – just a clean, efficient takedown.

Gordon exhaled sharply, adjusting his grip. “I’m taking him back.”

Moira stepped in, her voice firm. “Afterlife can take responsibility for him, but S.H.I.E.L.D. gets to question him first. That was the deal.”

For a moment, Gordon hesitated. Then, with a short nod, he tightened his hold on Toshiro. “I’ll be back.”

In a rush of blue light, they were gone.

Static crackled in her earpiece before Peggy’s voice came through, steady and controlled. “Backup is en route. Status?”

Moira exhaled, scanning the dimly lit apartment. “Situation is clear. Toshiro was neutralised.”

She paced forward, inspecting the space quickly. Her instincts were sharp, her pulse still steady from the fight. No movement. No sign of anyone else.

The stolen crystals had to be here somewhere.

She pressed her lips together. These weren’t just stolen artifacts – this wasn’t just another recovery mission. People had died because of them. She thought of Dante, of the mother he had lost, of the innocent bystanders caught in the chaos of Toshiro’s attacks. What had he been trying to do?

It didn’t matter now – Gordon had him, and soon, they’d have answers.

But first, the crystals.

Moira moved cautiously, eyes sweeping across the tiny apartment. It was barely more than a single room, cramped and worn, with nowhere to hide anything substantial. That made it easy. Too easy. Her gaze caught on the only thing that stood out: a metal case, half-hidden in the corner. In this run-down space, the polished surface gleamed unnaturally under the neon glow outside the window.

She stepped toward it, her boots light against the creaking floorboards.

Moira knelt, flipping the case open fully. Inside, nestled in foam, were the stolen crystals. Even in the dim light, they gleamed – faintly different from the one that had changed her. Each crystal was uniform in size and shape, precisely cut like gemstones and laid in neat rows. There was a dullness to them as well. The usual brilliance of Terrigen was muted, the blue that surrounded Moira in the Terrigenesis chamber washed out, as if the glow was trapped beneath a layer of glass.

Manufactured. The impure crystals Jiaying had explained.

And yet… a shiver ran up her spine. There was something unsettlingly familiar about them. She had seen a crystal like these before.

Her fingers hovered just above the foam, the faint hum of energy brushing her skin. Her body went rigid. A memory surfaced, sharp and uninvited.

Jiaying.

In Afterlife, before she’d returned to S.H.I.E.L.D., torn between identities and uncertain if she truly belonged in either world, Jiaying had pressed something into her palm. A crystal. Unmistakably similar to what lay in front of her now.

Looking down at these crystals – impure, unstable, deadly to humans – realisation settled like a stone in her gut. If she had brought that crystal to S.H.I.E.L.D… if she had opened it there… every human in the room would have died.

Jiaying had to have known that. Intended it as some kind of insurance policy to protect the secrets of the Inhumans.

Moira’s hand curled into a fist. The energy from the case still hummed in the air, potent and dangerous. These crystals weren’t tools of change – they were weapons. And Jiaying, who always spoke of choice, of balance, of peace – had given her one without hesitation. Jiaying had kept them at Afterlife.

It was Toshiro who deployed them, she reminded herself. Jiaying had kept them at Afterlife, far away from humans.

But, she’d given one to Moira. A choice, she’d explained at the time. What kind of choice was that?

She exhaled sharply through her nose, pushing the realisation down. It wasn’t the time. She needed to get these crystals secured, needed to finish the mission. Once she was in Afterlife, she’d deal with what it meant.

With what Jiaying had done. With what Moira could have done.

“Agent 24?” Peggy’s voice came through, calm but expectant. “Report.”

Moira blinked, the weight of the moment sliding back into mission-focus. She tightened her grip on the case, the cool metal grounding her.

“We have the crystals,” she said, steady and clear. “Room’s secure. I’m en route.”

She stood, tucking the case beneath her arm, and moved for the door. Outside, backup would be arriving. Peggy would be waiting. And Gordon wouldn’t be far behind.

Soon, they’d be heading to Afterlife. They had questions for Toshiro.

And Moira… she had questions of her own.

The wind stirred gently through the mountain air as Gordon appeared on the outskirts of Afterlife, flanked by Peggy and Moira. The village shimmered with its usual quiet grace – stone paths, wooden walkways, serene gardens – but the undercurrent of tension lingered like static in the air. They had returned with the stolen crystals, and Toshiro Watanabe was already in custody.

Peggy glanced around, sharp-eyed as ever. “Where is he?”

“In a secured wing, under watch,” Gordon said. “Jiaying’s waiting for you.”

Peggy looked at Moira, then turned back to Gordon. “Before we speak to him, I’d like to see the perimeter. Walk it with me?”

Gordon nodded. With a brief look that said good luck, Peggy stepped away, leaving Moira alone to face Jiaying.

She found her in the sanctuary building, her silhouette outlined by the paper screens and soft candlelight. Jiaying was standing by the window, watching the sky.

Moira stepped forward, the case of crystals still in her hands. “We recovered these.”

Jiaying turned, eyes falling to the box. “Thank you.”

Moira set the case down between them, unlocking and flipping open the lid to reveal the neat rows of crystals. They glowed faintly in the lantern light – cool, blue-laced fragments housed in protective foam. Four were missing, which aligned with the number of attacks Toshiro had launched, plus one more for his own Terrigenesis.

“Is this all of them?”

Jiaying didn’t hesitate. “These are all the ones Toshiro stole, yes.”

Moira looked up sharply. “So you have more?”

There was a pause – brief, but noticeable. Then Jiaying nodded. “We do. A few more, stored well away from the village, in the older tunnels beneath Afterlife. Sealed and inaccessible without a Transitioner’s guidance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because they are ours to protect and not meant to be used lightly,” Jiaying said. “Not by S.H.I.E.L.D., not by the outside world. They were created during a time of crisis, when natural crystals were in limited supply. They’re dangerous to humans, yes – but not to us. I kept them to protect what’s left of our lineage. Our right to evolve.”

“You said these crystals were dangerous,” Moira said, blunt.

“To humans,” Jiaying clarified. “Which is why we keep them sealed, buried, away from those who didn’t understand their purpose. But they are still Terrigen. Still part of our legacy.”

Moira crossed her arms. “You gave one to me. When I first came here. If I’d used it at S.H.I.E.L.D., if I’d tried to undergo Terrigenesis away from Afterlife… it would’ve killed every human in the room.”

“Yes.” She answered simply.

“Why?”

“I gave it to you because you are one of us. And because you were – are – desperate for answers. I wanted you to choose your path freely. That’s what we’ve always promised.” Jiaying looked at her steadily. “But I’ve been betrayed before. I had to protect the community. I couldn’t risk everything just because I hoped you were different.”

Moira's voice was tight. “What else do I have to do to prove that I am?”

She began to tick them off on her fingers. “I’ve undergone Terrigenesis. I gave you the telepathy-blocking helmet – you know Howard wants that back, right? I agreed to bring Toshiro here, not a S.H.I.E.L.D. site. What more do you want?”

Jiaying didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, her expression softened. “I do trust you, Moira. I never would have met with Charles or the X-Men if I didn’t. And I have you to thank for stopping Toshiro.”

Moira nodded, but didn’t back down. “Then you need to start being honest. And you have to let me help. What’s the plan for Toshiro? How are you going to stop him from hurting anyone else?”

Jiaying’s face hardened, not with hostility, but with the weight of responsibility. “He’s being kept in the north lodge, where we house patients with the most extreme cases of mutation following Terrigenesis until they adjust. It’s reinforced stone with no exits except the front entrance, guarded around the clock. He has no access to the outside. Gordon won’t go near him, and no one else has the ability to move him.”

“Sounds solid,” Moira said wryly. “Except it wasn’t before. He escaped once already. When he stole the crystals. How did he even get out of Afterlife?”

Jiaying hesitated – a flicker of discomfort passed across her features. “He asked Gordon to take him to see his family. Gordon didn’t know what he was planning; that he had already taken some crystals. That’s how he got out.”

Moira’s jaw clenched. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“There was nothing to suggest he was a threat at the time,” Jiaying said quietly. “Toshiro hadn’t undergone Terrigenesis yet. He was frustrated, yes – he questioned our traditions – but I didn’t think he would turn against us. Gordon thought he was helping, that it would help Toshiro acclimatise to the community. I let him leave.”

Moira exhaled sharply. “If we’d known that earlier, we could have watched for travel from his home, for movement – maybe tracked him before he attacked anyone.”

“I know,” Jiaying said. “That was my mistake.”

There was silence between them. Finally, Jiaying stepped toward the door. “Come. As a show of good faith, I want you and Agent Carter to review our security protocols. As you say, you’ve earned that.”

“And if Toshiro tries something again?”

“Then you can take him to a secure facility. But not S.H.I.E.L.D.” Her gaze was steady. “Organisations begin with good intentions, but even they can be corrupted. Trust people, not names.”

Moira didn’t argue. She simply followed and moved Jiaying’s words to another part of her brain where they could whirl away while she focused on Toshiro.

She didn’t know what he would have to say, if anything. Didn’t expect remorse, didn’t believe there was any justification for the destruction he’d caused. But she was eager to hear it anyway. Eager to see him, to understand what twisted vision had driven him to murder strangers. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was ideological. Either way, she needed to know.

They found Peggy waiting outside the containment building, arms folded. She raised an eyebrow. “Are we allowed to proceed?”

“We are,” Moira said dryly.

Inside, the room was dim and windowless, stone walls radiating calm but hiding the thick tension beneath. Toshiro sat on the far side of the chamber, his posture relaxed despite the restraints and the subtle hum of dampening fields embedded in the walls. The air smelled faintly of ozone, like a storm trapped in a bottle.

He looked up as they entered, his gaze flicking from Peggy to Moira with mild curiosity.

Peggy stepped forward first, her voice calm but clipped. “Mr Watanabe. I’m Agent Carter. This is Agent MacTaggert. We’re here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. to ask you a few questions about the attacks.”

Moira watched him closely. He looked so ordinary – tired, even. But beneath the surface, the air still hummed with something restless.

Peggy continued, “You stole from your own people. You launched a series of attacks on civilians, all to force your way through Terrigenesis. Why?”

That’s when the smile dropped. “Because Jiaying wouldn’t do what needed to be done,” Toshiro said. His voice was clear, with an undercurrent of steel. “She wants to keep us hidden. Small. Compliant. But we are not meant to hide. We are meant to rise.”

Moira took a step forward. “By killing people?”

Toshiro’s eyes slid to her. “Awakening them.”

“You murdered innocent people.”

“I liberated Inhumans,” he said coldly. “They lived their whole lives never knowing who they truly were. How many more are out there, walking around unaware of what they could be?”

Moira frowned. “You think that justifies murder?”

Toshiro stood, slowly, testing the weight of his restraints. The air prickled faintly against her skin. The walls pulsed brighter, reacting to his subtle provocation.

“You’d still be asleep if I hadn’t acted,” he said. “Still pretending to be something you’re not. You should be thanking me.”

“I’ve seen what you left behind,” Moira said, her voice quiet but firm. “I spoke to the Inhumans you forced through Terrigenesis.”

That gave him pause.

“One of them was a kid,” Moira said, her voice low but cutting. “And Terrigenesis killed his mother. He watched her turn to stone.” She took a step forward, fury carefully controlled behind her eyes. “He’s not thanking you, Toshiro. And neither am I. You talk about awakening people, but all you’ve done is leave bodies behind.”

She shook her head. “You say this should be the future for Inhumans – but what kind of future do we have if you kill the rest of humanity? If you kill our families and our friends. No one is thanking you, Toshiro.”

Toshiro’s eyes darkened. “We are more. We are evolution. Hiding here like frightened children… it dishonours what we are.”

“Power doesn’t make you better,” Moira said, her voice sharper now. “It just makes you responsible. And you abused that responsibility the moment you put innocent lives in your path.”

He tilted his head. “You think the world will thank you for being responsible? They’ll fear you. They’ll cage you. At least I chose action.”

Moira held his gaze. “I would never do what you did. I’ve seen what you left behind. You want to awaken others by force? By death?”

He sneered. “You’ll see. One day, there’ll be too many of us to ignore.”

Moira took a step back. “You’re going to have a long time to think about your choices, Watanabe. You’re not going anywhere. You’ll stay at Afterlife – far away from where you can hurt anyone else.”

She turned and walked toward the door. Peggy followed, silent until they were outside again and the mountain air filled their lungs.

“Well,” Peggy said dryly, “he’s charming.”

Moira exhaled, steadying herself. The wind rustled across the hillside, cold and clean. Somewhere below, water ran through the river that split the valley, the sound distant but steady, like the pulse of the mountains themselves. Afterlife always felt like it was holding its breath – peaceful, suspended, but fragile.

She stared out past the rooftops and the paths winding between the buildings, letting her thoughts settle where they would. Toshiro’s words still echoed in her mind. We are evolution. They’ll cage you.

So much of what he’d said reminded her of Erik. The conviction. The contempt. The belief that evolution meant superiority, and superiority meant conquest. It wasn’t just ideology – it was identity to them. A warpath paved by genetics and fear. And yet, in both cases, there had been fear. That much was clear to her now. Erik’s anger had always been rooted in pain.

But fear didn’t excuse slaughter.

Peggy glanced over. “Don’t spiral.”

Moira gave a slight laugh, humourless. “Didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I know that look.”

She didn’t argue. Instead, Peggy went on, quieter now, “For every Toshiro, there’s a Dante. For every Erik, there’s a Charles. The world’s always tilting back and forth – people shouting for their version of the truth to be heard the loudest. But what matters isn’t just who speaks the loudest.”

She turned toward Moira, her gaze calm but firm. “It’s what we do that counts. And what you’re doing, what you have done – it matters.”

Moira swallowed, feeling the weight of those words settle in her chest. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” Peggy said, then added, “You also owe me a drink later. That man was exhausting.”

Moira smiled faintly, just as movement in the distance caught her eye. She straightened slightly. “Gordon’s heading this way.”

Peggy turned to look. “Let’s see what he’s got.”

Together, they started down the path, the wind at their backs.