Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chicago, Christmas eve 2008, Alex: 9 years old.

Christmas music played on the car radio, filling the warm interior of the car with cheerful sound and voices. 

Alex was singing along happily in the back seat of the car with his mom as they waited in traffic, the car smelled of the hot chocolate coming from the cup holder. His small voice mixed with his moms, barely knowing the lyrics. His father was clapping along with a grin on his face, looking at the joyful scene at the backseat through the rearview mirror. Their sounds of laughter and singing rose and fell, wrapping them in the golden warmth of a family heading home after grocery shopping, ready to spend Christmas eve together.

BOOM

The shockwave shattered their car windows, spraying the car with shards of glass, while the ground beneath them trembled and Alex could see the buildings nearby swaying. Alex’s mom quickly threw herself over him, squeezing him so tight he almost couldn't breathe, desperate to protect her boy, as debris and glass scratched their bodies. 

Suddenly all Alex saw was blinding white and all he could hear was the sound of explosions and screams of terror.

He woke up underneath his mom, he could feel the weight and warmth of her body, crushing his lungs. Her body was lifeless and cuts and bruises made her face a bloody mess. Alex squeezed his arms away from her hold, reached up to her face, rubbing the blood off her eyes, slapping her, looking for any sign of consciousness. There was no response. 

He wanted to scream, but his throat was too dry. Not far he sees his dad underneath rubble from a collapsed building nearby. Pain surged through his body, before darkness closed in and Alex slipped into unconsciousness. 

He woke up again, now at the back of an ambulance. The cold and pain now replaced with the warmth of a blanket and sharp pain of antiseptic.

“You’re a lucky kid” the paramedic said gently as he allowed Alex to sit up “other than a few cuts and bruises, you seem okay. We’ll still need to take you to a hospital and check for any internal wounds. Do you have anyone we can call?”

Alex says nothing, but stares at the rubbles, his fist clinching the blanket. 

“I see…” the paramedic says, a quiet sadness in his voice. 

Nearby Alex can overhear two officers discussing the scene.

“Fucking overtime man, on holiday too. Seems like another mutant kid lost control of their power. Damn near destroyed the whole block”

“Always them mutants huh, my cousin lost her leg to one of em. Fucking headaches"

Upon hearing this Alex’s brows furrowed and his heart rate picked up. A mutant did this? A single mutant did all this destruction? Alex thought. My family…and many others Alex thought as he looked at the body bags piled on the side. One mutant...killed them all just like that?

As he looks at the wreckage and bodies surrounding him, a strange, unfamiliar heat on his chest spreads through his body, pushing the cold away. 

***

“Alright folks, please stand behind the barrier” a loud deep but gentle voice ordered the crowd. The tall police officer was tired and wished he had a day on this hectic christmas eve.

“Another one eh Marcus” his partner says next to him “Always them muties huh”.

Marcus sighs and replies “ C'mon Zach, you know how I feel about slurs to anyone”. 

“Yeah yeah, anyway it's your turn for a break. enjoy the shit coffee, barely even warms you up”

As Marcus was heading to a nearby tent he saw a little boy on the back of the ambulance. Cuts and bruises on his body that's wrapped in a thick blanket. But what he notices most of all, isn’t the slight trembling, the huge bruise on his right leg, or the deep cut on his forehead, it was how tightly his fist clenched the blanket, how his brows furrowed and how his eyes were focused on the destruction, as if nothing else matters.

It was a face he has seen before, a face he has made before.

Marcus tries to continue on his way and mind his business, but his consciousness couldn't stand it, and he starts walking towards the kid.

Alex was spacing out, staring at the burning rubbles that the firefighters were taking out, feeling numb, hoping it was a dream, when a large dark hand landed on his shoulder. Alex was startled and let out a small involuntary yelp. Marcus chuckled at how cute it was that his face switched from hate to panic in an instant. 

Just a kid He thought

“Sorry about that, I'm Marcus. You are?” He introduces himself as he sits next to Alex.

“Alex”

“Nice to meet you Alex. How are you doing?”

“fine, doctor said just cuts and bruises”

“I’m not talking about your body kid” Marcus say before touching the boy’s heart “I'm talkin bout here”

Alex says nothing for a little while, looking down at the hand on his chest, before finally saying “mad”

“i see”

“hate”

Marcus says nothing, simply looks at the boy with narrowed eyes. Worried about Alex’s psychology.

“ I want to kill the mutant that did this.”

“don’t do that kid” Marcus says as he pats Alex’s head

“don't what” Alex replies as he tries his best to remove the hand on his head, but couldn’t

“don't let the hate be the thing keeping you warm” Marcus looks into Alex’s eyes as he says this.

“ha” Alex scoff at the words and notices the wedding ring on the finger

“You have a family?” Alex asked.

“yes..”

“Your family is probably waiting at home all cozy while mine is under those rubbles. You don’t know how I feel”

Markus didn't say anything for a while, before responding “ I understand more than you think”

After those words the two shared a silent moment, simply staring at the rescue workers and fire fighters working hard as flames turned to smoke.

“You want something to drink?” Markus offered.

“ no” Alex replies.

“Alright, well, I'll be right there if you need me. and kid…remember what i said.”

Markus says before heading to the tent for coffee.

“Poor kid huh” the paramedic says while Markus was filling his cup of  coffee at the tent.

“Parents died on Christmas eve, all cause a mutant couldn’t control themself”

“yea… he has any family we could contact?” 

“not from what I've looked into. Family immigrated here from Japan few years ago. don't think he got a family left here in the US.”

“i see”

After those words, Marcus' eyes drifted back towards the boy on the back of the ambulance whose face was now more neutral, his fist still clenched while holding the blanket around him. But he could still see that anger, hatred and most importantly sadness in the boy's eyes. 

He takes a deep breath and takes his phone out, hovering over the numbers he hesitates, before dialing the number to the foster program.

New York, That same night, Alice: 10 years old.

In a small apartment in downtown New York, on a cold Christmas night. A family was finishing the last touches of their Christmas tree before lighting it up. 

The sweet sound of Christmas music and smell of mac & cheese and baked cookies fills the small apartment as the family admires the tree.

“What did you wish for honey?” Alice’s mom asks.

“For my x gene to go away” Alice says dryly, her face illuminated by the blinking lights of the Christmas tree.

“Alice...”her father says, with sadness in his voice as he stares lovingly at his daughter.

“ I just… I just want to be like the rest” Alice says, as she relives the memories of being bullied at school for having mutant parents, and most likely a mutant herself.

“You are normal honey” her mom replies as she bends down and hugs her. 

“But I'm not, we’re not normal” Alice replies, a slight sob.

“Well, “normal” is overrated anyway” Her father tries to lighten the mood. 

With a slight grin on his face “Look at us, I have thick skin that most sharp objects can't puncture and your mom can shoot lightning. We’re cool and I’m sure your powers will be too”

Alice doesn't reply, while her mom looks up at her father with a small smile.

Just then, thumps can be heard from their window. Her mom went over to look at what's the issue, just to be hit by a large rock that smashed through the window, hitting her in the forehead, blood gushing out, covering her face. 

“Mom!” Alice shouts in a panic as she rushes to her side and helps her back on the couch.

Seeing this her father rushes to look out the window. His tough skin prevented the rocks from having any effect. 

“What's your problem? He shouts looking at the mob of people beneath their small apartment, about 10 people it seems. 

“The problem is we don't want no goddamn dangerous mutie in our neighborhood” one man shouts. who seems to be the group's voice. 

“A freak like you blew up half a block in Chicago just a few hours ago!”

“Listen”, the father tries to reason as he looks back and sees that Alice was helping her mom bandage her bleeding head on the couch. “I can assure you our powers are not that destructive…Please its Christmas”

“We don't give no goddamn fuck. Your kind brings death sooner or later, get outta here or we’ll make you!”

The group of people cheer at that declaration. Ready to resort to violence.

“Fuck” the father curse under his breath.

“Maeve” he calls his wife, “open the back door and emergency exit, it might get ugly”

“Right” as she quickly gets up and pulls Alice along with her.

Just then the door to their apartment was thumping loudly and rhythmically. The mob has made their way up to their first floor apartment. 

“Alice, go” her father says as he gets ready to fight.

“I..I don't want to”

“Don’t worry about us honey” her mother tries to reassure her as she strokes her face “we have cool powers remember?” she says as she puts her arms up, flexing her biceps and winking at Alice with a smile.

Alice just stares, until the mob bursts through the door like a flood. They rushed through the door with an assortment of weapons and faces she’s seen before, smiling and laughing with glee.

“Alice go!” her father firmly shouts, as he blocks an attack with a baseball bat.

“We’ll catch up to you honey. Promise. NOW RUN” her mom says as a bolt of lighting flashes from the palm of her hands, electrifying a few people.

Hesitantly, Alice scrambles to her feet and starts running as small tears roll down her cheeks. Behind her she hears the sounds of struggle and screams as her parents fought the intruders. Some tried to chase her, but her parents made sure to block their way. But the sounds of furniture crashing, and screams of her parents followed her.

After exiting from behind the apartment, she sneaks away and watches her apartment from a nearby alley. Sounds of scream and pain can be heard. Lighting from her mom sometimes flares out the window and furniture were being thrown out as her parents fight the mob.

Eventually her apartment starts a flame, and fire consumes it.

The heavy black smoke rises up and the smell fills her nose. 

She was about to rush to the apartment when she saw a few of the mob exiting the apartment building in a rush while celebrating. Holding up some personal artifacts of her parents as trophies. One was wearing her father’s hat, while another was wearing her mom’s necklace.

Other apartment residents soon follow.

“What the fuck man” one of the resident says to the mob in anger. “Is insurance gonna cover this?”

“My vintage couch is gonna be ruined”

They don’t even care that my parents died? Thought Alice, face now covered in tears and snot.

In the middle of the freezing night of New York, as ashes and snow fell around her, the flames of her home, and anger in her hearth kept her warm.

***

A few hours later, Alice wanders through the streets of New York, the shining neon lights of advertisements illuminated her path. The sound of joys and laughter fills the street as couples and families go out for the festive night. 

Alice was lost, she looked up to the sky, watching the snow falling gently on her nose, trying to hold the tears back, not wanting to attract attention to her. Paranoid that if she draws attention and people look closer, they might notice what she is, or what she could be. someone “different”.

Inside a restaurant nearby Rogue and Gambit was having a Christmas dinner date.

“I’m telling you chere, money’s not a problem. I got this”

 rogues eyes narrows, before asking

“did you-” but before she could finish gambit replies.

“non non i didn't steal it”

rogues eyes narrows again, trying to judge him through his eyes

“alright sugah, Thank you for taking me out” she relents

“my honor chere” He smirks

As they wait for the food they ordered, rogue looks out the window and notices a lonely girl wandering the street  herself. Wearing a face she’s all too familiar with.

“Remy…look” rogue says as she points out the window with her chin.

Gambit followed her eyes to see the small figure of Alice, alone under the falling snow, shoulders hunched against the cold, trying to be as small as possible.

Moments later, after paying the bills and getting the food they ordered to go, gambit and rogue reaches out to her.

“Hey there little one” rogue tries to be gentle.

The girl looks up, noticing the tall handsome man, in a leather trench coat and a beautiful lady with a streak of white in her brunette hair.

“You doing okay? why are you alone out here in pajamas?” rogue asks as she kneels down to Alice eye level.

Alice was silent, afraid of what could happen. She tries to step past them, her head screaming stranger danger, but the woman stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Alice flinched, and Rogue quickly pulled her hands back. 

“you sure honey, we could help take you home. It's late out and cold.”

Alice hesitated, her throat dry from the cold and the tears she shed as she watched her house - her parents burn.

“i- I don't have a home anymore” her voice cackling, tears close to coming out.

Rogue exchanges a worried look with Gambit, who was silently watching them from behind.

“What happened sweetie?” she asks.

“they….they burned it down” her voice shaking “because we’re - we’re…” she was about to say mutants but stopped herself, afraid of how these strangers would react.

she didn't know what to say, but rogue and gambit picked it up from experience as she saw the all too familiar haunted look reflected on Alice’s eyes.

“because you're “different”?” rogue asks.

Alice didn't say anything, but her gaze shifted down, and to the side. afraid to confirm anything.

“Remy...get the car ready will ya?”

“of course chere”

“Listen, sweetie. There's a place for people like you…people like us. Would you like to come?”

“Would I like to get in a car with strangers?”  Alice replies sarcastically as she finally raised her face to look Rogue in the eye 

“I’ll pass”

Rogue chuckled lightly “I understand that...but look” she shows a small badge with an x “ we’re from the x men. You heard of us?”

“a bit, just rumors.”

“Well, we’re a team trying to do some good for mutants and humans alike.” She then takes out her phone to show Alice some pictures. “Here see, this is us training with our powers, to use for good.”

“wow”

“so? What do you say? you wanna come with us sweetie?”

Alice didn't say anything but nodded slowly.

The car ride back to the institute was silent. Only the sound of radio music can be heard, when Rogue finally switched it off.

She looks back at the girl before crawling from the front to the back seat. Earning her a confused look from Alice.

“how are you feeling sugah?” rogue asks once seated next to her, as she puts a gentle comforting hand on Alice’s shoulder.

Alice replies while looking out the window. 

“angry”

“yeah…i understand honey”

“Hateful too”

rogue stays silent.

“I want to kill the humans who did this” her eyes narrow and her jaws clenches. Tears formed at the edges, but they didn't fall.

The car was silent for a moment. Only the sound of humming engines and wheels can be heard.

Rogue stares at her. Trying to think of comforting words, but couldn't come up with the right ones. So she does what she could, and hugs the little girl to comfort her. Alice flinches a little bit, but eventually settles into the hug. 

“I understand” Rogue says finally, feeling like now is not the time for lectures on power and responsibility.

The rest of the journey back to the institute was silent and for the first time since that harrowing nightmare, Alice found real warmth.

Chapter Text

Evening, 14th January, 2009

After 3 weeks of endless bureaucratic paperwork, the car ride to Marcus's house was silent. Both were sitting on the front silently. Marcus was focused on the road as Alex stared out the window, staring at the suburban houses and trees blur by with a box of his personal belongings on his lap.

“There it is,” Marcus says as he points at a house by the end of the road. It was an average suburban house, front yard, drive way with a hoop, a small porch. 

“You ready?” He asks as he quickly glances to the side to look at Alex.

“Yeah...sure” Alex replies. His right leg shaking up and down as he twirls his index finger around his thumb’s nail.

Upon stepping out of the car, Marcus’s wife and son steps out of the house to welcome them. 

“Hi!” Dana said, her voice bright as she raised a hand in greeting.

“H-Hi” Alex meekly replied, looking downward as he shook her hand.

“Hello! I’m Jordan!” Marcus’s son confidently grabbed Alex’s hand from his mom to shake it.

“How old are you?” Jordan asks with enthusiasm.

“Nine..”

“Ha! I get to be the older brother then.”

Alex didn’t respond but offered a small polite nod.

“Alright, Jordan, why don’t you go and show Alex to his room” Marcus told Jordan as he and Dana started unloading the car.

Marcus offered Alex a reassuring nod as Alex hesitantly followed Jordan into the house with the box of personal belongings. 

The house was cozy and smelled of wood polish as well as something delicious that had been cooked for dinner hours ago. 

It wasn't a neat house. A pile of mail and books sat on a small table, and a row of smiling, mismatched family photos lined the mantelpiece.

On the refrigerator, a child's colorful drawings of his family were held up by a magnet. 

From somewhere upstairs, Jordan shouted for Alex to follow along.

Alex’s room on the second floor was at the end of the hallway, next to Jordan’s. The room was modest, furnished with a simple, brown framed single bed and an empty wardrobe standing in the corner

“This is your room!” Jordan excitedly presented it to Alex. “Mine is right next door, you wanna see!?”

Alex offered a small smile. “Maybe later, I want to tidy up before bed time”

“Sure…and if you need help just call me”

“Thanks”

Moments later Marcus came and knocked on the opened door while carrying a bag of Alex’s clothes. Sitting on the bed, he sees Alex holding on to a framed picture of him and his parents.

“Hey…need help hanging that up?” Marcus asked with a smile as he put down the bag.

“N-no, its okay” Alex says as he puts aside the picture “I - I  don’t  want to be ungrateful”

Marcus paused for a moment, before moving from the doorway to sit next to Alex “Alex…we’re not here to replace your family. You don’t EVER have to call me and Dana mom and dad, and we’d still consider you family.”

“Thanks…” Alex said, offering a small smile.

“No problem.” Marcus says as he pats his head.

“…I’d like to ask. On the papers, your name is Akio Sato. Would you like for us to call you Akio? Or Alex. We’re okay with whatever you choose.”

“I-I think I’ll stick with Alex.”

“Okay…whatever you're comfortable with….”

“Akio’s just… hard to hear right now.” Alex said in almost a whisper.

“I understand”

They share a moment of silence before Marcus gets up from the bed.

“We're about to have dinner, so why don’t you come down and you can continue unpacking afterwards.”

They made their way to the dining room and Dana had already set a seat for Alex next to Jordan.

Not much was said during that first dinner. Just awkward smiles and small talk. One dinner at a time….they get closer.

February, 2009

Alex sits on the sofa quietly as he watches Jordan play NBA2k on the TV. He was on the edge of his seat, holding back excited remarks, worried he might annoy Jordan. Suddenly a controller hit his lap.

“C’mon” Jordan invited him to play.

Alex hesitated, before picking up the control and slid down to find a seat next to Jordan on the living room floor and started playing.

April, 2009

Alex sat at the head of the table, awkward in his seat as the birthday song came to an end.

"Happy birthday... to you," his new family sang slightly off key.

“Thank you,” Alex said with a small smile before blowing out the candle on his chocolate cake.

“Now,” Dana said as she stepped over to the fridge, “before you dive into that cake, I want you to try this.”

She set down a plate of mochi cakes.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh… My mom used to make these. Thank you.” He took a bite. The soft chew, the sweet red bean paste, it was like a ghost in the room. For a second, he was nine again, in his old living room, with old familiar smiles.

“…It even tastes like hers,” he whispered. A tear welled at the corner of his eye. “Did you make this?”

“I did,” Dana said gently, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’m so glad you like it, honey. And…there’s one more thing.”

She placed a familiar-looking book in front of him.

Alex blinked. “My mom’s recipe book… Where did you find this?”

He ran his fingers over the cover, opening it slowly. Her tiny handwriting. The smudged stain from where he spilled milk once. The smell of his old kitchen, somehow trapped in the pages.

“It was on the shelf next to the fridge,” Marcus said softly. “When we picked up your things.”

“Thank you,...how did you?” Alex said, voice small.

“The owner of the sushi restaurant nearby helped me translate it” Dana said.

“If you ever want something from it, just ask,” Dana added, ruffling his hair.

Alex smiled, and looked up at her. “Okay…thanks”

“Can I try it now?” Jordan asked as he reached forward.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Alex said, offering his fork.

He turned ten that day.

June 2009,

“No way” Alex and Jordan whispered in unison, both were on their feet, hands on their head, mouth wide open. 

On the TV a heartbreaking news: King of Pop, Michael Jackson has unfortunately passed away..

“Alright, what’s with the stunned silence? You boys see a ghost?” Marcus asked with a smirk as he walked into the living room, his eyes following theirs to the TV. His smile faded instantly.

“Michael Jackson… he’s gone,” Jordan said, his voice quiet.

Marcus sank onto the arm of the sofa, letting out a slow breath. “Damn…” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked at the boys, a distant look in his eyes. “I remember trying to learn the moonwalk in the living room to impress your mom back when we were dating. I think I pulled a muscle.”

A small, sad smile touched Marcus’s lips. Both boys just stared at Marcus, seeing a glimpse of the younger man he used to be. For a moment, the three of them were silent, united in the quiet shock of a world that had suddenly lost its King of Pop.

September 2009,

It was afternoon, a few days before school starts again. The boys were spending their days on the sofa, playing games and watching tv. Seeing this, Marcus went up to them.

“Alright boys, I need help cleaning out the garage while you guys still have a lot of free time” He said as he stands in front of the tv, blocking their view

“Aww…c’mon dad. We only have a few days left till school. Let us enjoy this” Jordan whined.

“Y-yeah, I also…agree with Jordan” Alex said, his index finger circling around his thumb nail.

Marcus smirks, and pulls out a coin. “All right then, how about we flip a coin. Heads, and you boys help me and tails…no chores until school starts again. What do you say?”

“Yes!” Both boys said, instantly standing up with excitement.

“All right then, here goes,” Marcus said as he flipped the coin. “Aww…heads, looks like you boys lose.”

“No! Best of 3!” Jordan exclaimed.

Marcus chuckled “Alright” before flipping the coin again.

“Whoops, you boys lost again” Marcus said as he revealed the coin.

“Wait a minute,” Alex narrowed his eyes while reaching into Marcus’s hand to grab the coin. After a quick inspection “Both sides are head! You cheated!”

Marcus laughed, his voice booming throughout the house “let this be a lesson to you boys, don’t gamble unless you know you’ll win”

“Then how’s that a gamble?” Jordan asked.

Marcus smiles as he pats their two heads “You’ll understand. Luck is rarely just luck. If you're prepared, you’ll find that luck can be created.”

Both boys said nothing. Simply looking at Marcus with a blank stare as if he said something stupid.

Marcus just chuckled again “alright, now help me with the garage, and I’ll take you to that steakhouse, how’s that?”

At this both boys perked up and immediately agreed.

October, 2009,

It was a rare sunny weekend in autumn. Alex and Jordan were playing a one on one basketball game in the driveway, while Marcus was cleaning the front yard from dead leaves.

Jordan crosses Alex and easily drives to the basket for an easy lay up.

“YEAH! Can't guard me bitch” He said as he flexed his arms on Alex.

“Language” Came Marcus voice.

A few moments later, It was Alex’s turn on the ball. Just like Jordan, he crosses him, but he doesn't go for the lay up. He steps back and shoots over Jordan to score.

“Heh…Kuzu” Alex said in a whisper, while smirking at Jordan.

“That was so a bad word” Jordan said as he grabbed the ball.

“No it's not! It's uh…it means good game or something like that in Japanese.” Alex blurted out the lie.

“Uh huh” Jordan said unimpressed.

“Its true, even old samurais used to say it to their opponent” Alex then proceed to deepened his voice and mimic his father’s accent the best he could “ you have fought with great honor, kuzu - that’s what they always say”

“I don't know, I think I need to ask dad to translate it for me” Jordan said with a half smirk.

“No! ugh fine…name your price” Alex relented.

“Hmm…how about that last ice cream of yours” 

“Ugh…fine” Alex groaned, mourning his last ice cream.

December, Christmas Eve, 2009,

Alex’s nose was numb, his lips were dry as he stood before his parents grave.

The whole family watched from a few feet away, giving Alex some space.

“I miss you” Alex said as he kneels in front of the stone, his voice trembling, tears welled in the corner of his eyes and his heart aches.

No more words were said, Alex couldn't think of any. He just misses them, more than any word could ever hope to express.

Dana kneeled beside him and gave him a hug. Jordan soon followed, hugging him from the other side. Until Marcus hugged them all from behind.

The drive home was quiet, and the atmosphere was heavy. 

Dana claps her hands softly to break the silence “Alright boys! What do you say we eat out for dinner? What do you boys want?” Dana said, trying to liven up the car.

“Oh! How about that new steakhouse that opened?” Jordan suggested.

“We can do that…Alex, what do you think sweetie?” Dana asks as she turns to Alex.

“KFC…How about KFC?” Alex said, his voice low.

“Yea, Kfc sounds good too.” Jordan agreed.

“And why do you want KFC son?” Marcus said as he and Dana shared a worried look

“It's just…in Japan, KFC is a tradition for Christmas…” Alex said shrinking in his seat “b-but we can get other things too! I’m okay with whatever” Alex said.

Marcus and Dana shared a laugh in relief.

“All right, we can do Kfc alex” Marcus said as he drives to the nearest Kfc.

It has been one year and around 281 dinners. Alex will always miss his family, but he doesn't have to be alone.

Chapter Text

Christmas eve, December, 2008.

Alice arrives at the Xavier mansion late at night. Most students were already asleep, and some were lucky to have a family to visit for Christmas.

“You wait here honey” Rogue said as she guided  Alice to  a sofa in the living room. “I’m gonna talk to the administrator to see if there’s a room for you.”

After Rogue left, Alice sat alone in the quiet room, the clock ticking hammer directly against her eardrums, her breathing fastened, shallow gasp that didn't bring enough air and the light was blinding. Suddenly a hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped off her seat.

“Woah there…didn’t mean to scare you.” It was the man in the trench coat. “Name’s Remy, didn’t get a chance to introduce myself before” Remy said as he sat down next to Alice.

“You waitin on Anne?”

Alice just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“The woman with the white streak”

“Oh..yeah, she said she’ll see if there’s any room available” Alice said from the other side of the couch.

Rogue came back soon after and guided Alice to her room. It was dark and she could see a brunette girl with a streak of rebellious pink dyed into her bangs already fast asleep.

Alice sneaks in quietly and changes into sleeping clothes Rogue provided, before going to bed.

The next morning Alice woke up to the light shining into her room from the window, and the energetic greeting of the woman who was asleep on the other bed.

“Morning” She waved at Alice with a huge smile. “I'm Ashley! Rogue said you were my new roommate!? This is gonna be awesome! Did you sleep okay?"

“Uh…yeah. I’m Alice…nice to meet you.” Alice said as she sat up on the bed.

“Great!, hey call me once you’re ready and I’ll show you around”

“Ok…”

A few hours later, Ashley was showing Alice all the facilities the mansion had to offer, the dining room, the gardens, classrooms and finally the danger room.

“This is the danger room!” Ashley said, her arms wide open as she presented it to Alice from the observation deck. “This is where we can train our powers to use them in different scenarios”

“How? It's just a big empty room?”Alice asked.

Ashley smirks and pressed a button, transforming the room into a city centre with rubble everywhere, and robots patrolling.

“Like so! Don’t ask me how it works…I just press these buttons” 

“Cool..”

***

Later that evening Alice ran into Rogue as she was heading to the canteen for dinner.

“Hey sugah…how are you doing” she asks

“I’m…managing”

“How are you settling in?”

“Good…i guess” Alice said, her eyes down.

They stayed silent for a moment.

“Alice, listen…about your parents. We’ve sent a team to retrieve them. Would you like to bury them somewhere special? Or perhaps cremate them?” Rogue asks as she puts a hand on Alice’s shoulder.

“I’d like to cremate them if that's okay…so they’ll always be with me.”

A few days later in the freezing days of December, firelight flickered in her eyes.

Alice stood still, fists clenched at her sides, lips pressed in a hard line, holding back her tears.

The flames crackled quietly in front of her, devouring the caskets. Behind her, the wind whispered through bare trees.

Smoke curled into the dark sky like a silent farewell.

The road stretched quiet beneath a grey sky.

Alice sat in the passenger seat, the urn nestled carefully on her lap, still warm against her fingers.

“You holdin up ok honey?” Rogue asked as she was driving.

“You ask that a lot huh?” Alice said, sitting next to her with the ashes of her parents sitting on her lap.

“Oh c’mon Alice don't be like that!” Ashley said as she leans in and playfully pokes Alice’s cheeks from behind. “We’re just worried about you”

“She’s right…we just want to look out for you…this is your new home now…you don't ever have to feel embarrassed to ask for help” Rogue added “But…you’re right, sorry if we were being overbearing”

“No…it's okay. Thank you both...and i’m sorry I Lashed out a bit there”

March, 2009.

Just like her mom, Alice manifested a power that allows her to control lightning.

She stands in the middle of the danger room, her hands trembling. She was afraid of the power that she wielded on her, the same kind of power her mother had used in those final moments.

"It is a part of you, Alice. Be not afraid of it, it does not have to be your master," Storm said,her voice calm.

She knelt in front of her, her own dark hands held open “watch….” She said as she produced her own spark of lightning, flickering, controlled as if it was an extension of her.

"Now you. Not a storm. Not a thunderbolt. Just a spark. A small light for a dark room."

Alice closed her eyes, concentrating. She thought of the warmth of a candle, of the blinking lights on her old Christmas tree. 

She opened her palm, and a single, tiny, harmless spark of yellow light danced above it like a firefly as if it was alive. She stared at it in awe. Storm smiled. It was a start.

April, 2009.

A few weeks after her lesson with Storm. Alice is in the Danger Room, practicing against simple drone targets. She easily defeats them with the small, precise sparks Storm taught her. But then the simulation throws up a holographic image of human soldiers, they smiled, the same way those humans smiled that night, and something in Alice snaps.

The controlled sparks are gone. A wild, chaotic storm of raw lightning erupts from her hands, tearing the drones to shreds and scorching the walls of the room. She is screaming in pure, blind rage.

Logan watches from the observation deck. Not moving. Not stopping her. Just watching.

The simulation abruptly ends. The lights come up. Logan is standing in the observation deck, his arms crossed. His voice crackles over the intercom, calm and gruff.

"That's enough." Logan said. He meets her on the training floor a moment later, walking through the wreckage she's created. He stops in front of her.

"That anger... It's a weapon. A good one. But right now, you're swingin' it like a club in the dark. You'll hit your enemy, sure. But you'll also hit yourself…and anyone close to you."

He gets a little closer, his voice low, poking her chest "Control that rage. Don't let it rule you. Aim it. Channel it. Turn it into a scalpel, not a wildfire. Understand, kid?"

July, 2011, Alice, 13 years old.

The window of the observation deck in the danger room was flashing wildly with bright yellow lights.

“She’s really honed her power,” Rogue said as she watched Alice.

“Indeed…it has been a pleasure teaching and watching her grow to control that light inside of her” Storm replied, a sense of pride welled inside her. “Perhaps in time she could join the x-men team”

Inside the danger room Ashkey and Alice were working together to take down a scaled down version of a sentinel for practice. It was slower, and the lasers were set to stun.

“Higher!” Alice shouted as Ashley flew her around.

“I….can’t!” She said through greeted teeth. “You’re….too heavy”

“What!? Take that back” Alice said as she sent a small jolt of electricity up Ashley’s arm.

“H-hey stop that! I’m sorry, okay!? You're as light as a feather”

“Thank you,” Alice said with a smug smile.

Ashley then lets out a small hidden smile as she comes up with an idea“Now...hold on to your seat, cause we’re about to blast off!” Ashley screamed at the top of her lungs as she took Alice on a loop-the-loop in the air.

“Ffffucccckk youuuu”Alice shrieked, a sound that was half terror and half pure, exhilarated laughter.

“Weeeeee”

Rogue and Storm watched in stunt silence as they saw both girls forget about their training completely.

“Well….they’re as close as ever huh?” Rogue said.

Storm just lets out a big sigh as she rubs her temple “yes…”

September, 2012

The girls and a few other students were taken on a field trip by Rogue and Logan. They went to Coney Island to enjoy the autumn breeze, the air was filled with the smell of sea and popcorn. The sound of laughter and screams from the rides was all around.

“Here!” Ashley said as she handed Alice a cotton candy.

“Thanks.” Alice said as she took a bite and savoured the sweet sugar melting on her tongue.

“Hey! Let's play that shooting game over there! I bet we’d do pretty good with all our training” Ashley said as she started to drag Alice by the arm to the stall.

“Ashley…you know these games are rigged right?”

“C’mon! It's worth a try!” Ashley said looking back at Alice with a huge smile. She couldn't say no when Ashley looks like that.

At the stall, Alice was about to ask for one turn before the shopkeeper turned them away.

“Sorry, no can do. You with them mutant group over there right” He said as he gestures at Logan, Rogue and the other students, some visibly mutated. “Can’t have cheaters using their powers at my stall”

“B-but our powers won’t even help with this!” Alice argued.

“You say that, but how can I know you're telling the truth? Heck, maybe you’ve already played the game, cheated, and this whole conversation is made up using your tele-whatever-you-call-its.”

“But” Alice was about to argue some more but Ashley started to pull her away.

“C’mon…it’s not worth ruining our day over” Ashley said, still smiling.

“You’re okay with that?”

“I-it’s okay…He just doesn't understand. People are scared of what they don't know. They'll come around." Ashley said.

Alice looked from Ashley's hopeful smile to the man behind the stall, and she wondered if her best friend was the bravest person she knew, or the most naive.

Christmas eve, December, 2013,

It was a cold snowy night, Alice was sitting in her room surrounded by darkness. She was perched on the windowsill, knees pulled to her chest, the urn of her parents' ashes resting between her legs. Snow drifted in from the open window and landed on her face just like that night.

Five years… she thought.

She basked in the silence as she reminisced of the past five years. The tragic night now seems so long ago, yet still hurts so much. 

Just then Ashley barged inside, like a light that swallows darkness, she brightened up the room.

“Yo yo!” She said “What's my Al-Al doing this fine Chri….” She trails off. Her smile fading as her eyes landed on Alice’s face.

“You okay?” She asked as she walked closer to Alice.

“Yeah…I’m just…being sentimental.” Her hand gently ran over the urn, painful memories, joyful ones... all mixed together.

Ashley said nothing, she just walked over, sat beside her, and took her hand. Her head rested on Alice’s shoulder.

“I’m always here you know.”

“I know,” Alice whispered as she leaned into Ashley.

They sit in silence for a long moment, enjoying the night. The faint sound of kids playing with snow in the garden drifting up through the open window.

Ashley’s pout vanished, replaced by a slow, mischievous smile that spread across her face. She jumped from her seat, pulling Alice up with her.

“Let’s go on a date!” Ashley said with a huge smile.

“Wha-” but before Alice could protest, Ashley had already grabbed her from behind laughing as she flew them out the window.

“ASH, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” She yelled through the air.

Ashley doesn’t respond but simply sped up and went higher. Alice’s panic turned to awe as the city unfolded beneath them in sparkling Christmas colors. Strings of lights, snow-covered trees, distant carols. It was... beautiful.

After a few more minutes of flight, Ashley finally landed them on a rooftop.

“What are we doing here?” Alice asked, half annoyed, half amused and excited to see where this goes.

“Shh” Ashley pressed a finger to her lips and opened a rooftop access door.They sneaked down the stairs and entered a club through their emergency doors.

The lights were blinding, the sound was loud and dizzying, Alice had a hard time navigating the place. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched, thinking she had been caught.

“It’s me,” Ashley said as she grabbed her hands and pulled her through the crowd and onto the dance floor.

On the dance floor, Alice just stood there and watched Ashley dance like she was the only person in the world, wild and free, spinning in neon light, her smile never wavering as if there’s no one else in the room. 

Then she turned, smiling. “Don’t mind them” she said, reaching out to Alice’s hand “Just look at me.”

Alice was hesitant…then took her hand. For a moment, they weren’t different. They just blended into the crowd…two girls dancing, nothing more.

Chapter Text

July, 2014, Alice 16 years old.

It was a quiet, sunny afternoon. Alice and Ashley were in the library, sharing an earphone, listening to calm music as they studied. 

Suddenly they feel the ground tremor beneath their feet. Screams echoed down the hallway as students began running

A fist burst through a wall behind them, sending books and furniture flying in every direction.

A giant metallic face peeked through the hole, its round red lights scanning the room, before firing beams in every direction.

Alice and Ashley ran, dodging and weaving towards the exit. 

Then another fist slammed through the wall right in front of them. The shockwave threw them backward and trapped Alice beneath piles of books and shelves.

A groan escaped her lips, pinned beneath the wreckage. She tried to move, but couldn’t.

Another face poked through the smoke and debris, its metals screeching in their ear, its red eyes locking onto them as Ashley tried to lift the weight off Alice to no avail.

“ASH RUN!” Alice screamed to Ashley. But she doesn’t listen.

She launched herself into the air, weaving through debris and laser fire. A blur of motion and defiance. Her body was shaking,  but her face was calm and determined.

Alice’s breath caught as she saw it — a flicker of red behind Ashley.

The Sentinel grabbed her mid-air. Its fingers crushed her ribs. A scream tore from Ashley’s throat.

Then she was gone.

Disintegrated.

Leaving only her bright red shoes as it fell to the floor.

Again…those humans… She watches in horror. The red eyes locked back onto Alice, unfeeling and cold. 

Then a blur of green and yellow struck from above.

Rogue slammed into the Sentinel’s face, crushing its eyes. Logan ripped through its chest from the inside sending sparks flying.

Rogue immediately dug Alice out and flew her to the evacuation room for safety as the X-Men handled the chaos.

***

The funeral was silent and empty. 

Names were read. Bodies were buried. No one cried. Not out loud.

Alice stood with the others, staring at the gravestones. Her hands holding on to Ashley’s shoes tightly.

She didn’t hear the speeches.

She only saw red lights behind her eyelids, and the shape of a girl vanishing from the sky.

The war never ends.

Chapter Text

15th September 2014 - Alex, 15 years old.

“I’m telling you, this is the best donut flavour” Zach mumbled, powdered sugar dusting his hoodie.

In the driver’s seat, Marcus exhaled deeply. He watched the street, bored, fingers tapping the wheel like a ticking clock.

Then his phone rang.

About an hour later, Marcus arrives at the principal's office, his boys sitting silently, their faces bruised.

“Mr Hayes, please”  the principal gestured, “have a seat.”

“What happened?”

“Your son here” The principal nodded toward Jordan, “and -”

“Please, they're both my sons” Marcus cuts in.

“Oh, of course. My apologies” She smiled, shifting uncomfortably.

“Your sons got into a fight. One of our students manifested over the summer-”

She slid over a file. The photo showed a boy with visible mutations, blue skin, glowing eyes “and Alex here started a fight with him.”

“Akio…explain” Marcus’s gaze was sharp enough to cut, and Alex’s head sank under its weight.

“I just… wanted to make sure. What if he lost control? What if he snapped and hurt people?”

He lifted his head slowly. “I just wanted to see if we could trust him.”

Marcus didn’t respond.

“So yeah,” Alex added, quieter now, his eyes locked with Marcus “I tested him.”

The room was silent, before Marcus turned to Jordan with an eyebrow raised. An unspoken and you?

“I was just backing my brother up” He shrugged, “besides… don't you think he got a point?”

The principal cleared her throat. “At this school, we pride ourselves on inclusion… human, mutant, Black, white, anyone capable of learning and growing. We understand your concern Alex, but we’ve assessed the student and

concluded he poses no danger.”

All eyes turned to Alex again.

The room was silent once again, all eyes on Alex.

“You understand that Alex?” Marcus asked, nudging him gently with his elbow.

“Yes…”

***

After the meeting with the principal, Marcus took both boys to a park nearby and sat quietly on a bench. Marcus in the middle, his sons on either side of him in silence.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Before he turns to Alex “You know son…I felt that hate, and anger before.” 

Both boys were silent, staring into the distance as they listened.

“My father was shot by a cop...He was a carpenter, so he always had his tools with him. The officer asked for his registration... he kept it in the glovebox, right next to his power drill. When he reached in for the papers, the cop

saw the drill... and that was it." He paused and clenched his fist on his lap, “I was so damn angry. For a while, I hated all cops. Especially white ones. I blamed everything on them. Called them

slurs, spat at their uniforms.”

“Cracker?” Jordan said, half-joking.

Marcus shot him a sharp look. “What did I say about slurs? No matter who it’s aimed at.”

Then, quieter, “But yeah. Back then… It felt good to hate. Like I had control again…It’s better now, but at that time…you know the little looks, the whispers, comments… it eventually gets to you…”

He rubbed his face, voice getting rough and shaky. “Eventually I joined an anti-mutant group. Went to rallies…we harassed them. Fought them. Made their lives harder…but I felt…accepted. It didn't matter if you were Black,

brown, white… If you were human, you were one of us. That was enough.”

A long pause.

“But I was wrong. I was doing to them what had been done to me.”

The silence returned, heavier this time, the sound of leaves ruffling sounded louder.

Until Alex spoke again "well yea, but black, white, asian, you're still a human, you can't blow up a building or telepathically control someone's mind"

Marcus turns to him, a sad smile on his lips. "you guys don't think humans can do the same?" 

"Well we can, but it isn't so easy," Jordan added.

Marcus pointed across the street at a parked truck. “That could be filled with explosives. One push of a button, and it levels a block.”

He pointed to a plane overhead. “That could be on its way to crash into a building.”

Then to a man walking past. “That guy might have a rifle in his bag. Planning a mass shooting.”

He looked back at them. “Do we stop living because of that? Fear and suspect everyone? Or do we judge people by what they do, not what they are?”

Alex opened his mouth "yea but - "

“No” Marcus cut him off "tell me, Alex. If a human terrorist blew up a mall and killed everyone in the building…would you hate me?"

"n-no"

"Why"

"cause you didn't do it" His voice, quiet, his face looked down, brow furrowed.

"right…Marcus placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “We judge people by who they choose to be. Not by what they were born as.”

He smiled and ruffled their hair, pulling them in close, even as their thoughts remained far away.

The silence was heavy. 

Marcus got up, and slapped both of their knees, smiling “Alright, how about we go hit that comic store nearby huh?” 

***

They exited the comic shop 40 minutes later, arms full of cheap paperbacks.

Alex and Jordan bickered as they walked.

“im telling you, Batman would beat Superman.”

“only if he has prep time” Jordan countered

“well batman is always prepared so-”

Just then they heard a commotion across the street. A group of around 8 people had formed a rough circle. In the middle stood a boy, no older than twelve, his back pressed to a wall. From behind him sprouted eight sharp,

twitching tentacles, coiled defensively. The crowd taunted and poked at him, tugging the limbs like animals in a cage.

The boy shrank into himself, trying to be as small as possible, hoping he would turn invisible. 

“Alright, you guys can wait in the car” Marcus said as he crossed the street to break it up. 

Alex and Jordan watch as their dad springs into action. “Police, break it up” Marcus ordered.

“...5 minutes” 

“10”

“you don't think he can handle that in 5?”

“Well unlike you my little brother,” Jordan smirked, “I've grown out of my biases.”

“You're only 1 year olde-”Just then they heard screams.

The crowd exploded outward, people were running in every direction. Three bodies hit the ground, two bystanders and Marcus, kneeling, one of the mutant’s tentacles pierced through his torso.

The boy stood frozen, horrified. “I—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—”

Marcus grunted, clutching the tentacle still inside him. Somehow, he crawled forward on his knees and wrapped his arms gently around the boy.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Just then he heard Alex and Jordan's hurried footsteps. 

Marcus turns around to meet them. They were also kneeling in front of him. Marcus grabs both their shoulders and pulls them close.

"Listen, both of you.” his voice, hoarse. “Especially you Alex. The boy…he didn’t mean to.” 

He coughed, red flecks dotting both boys' shoulders. “I… forgive him.”

Alex stared frozen, his limbs felt numb.

“But-” Alex starts. 

“No buts” His face was serious, staring deep into Alex’s eyes "Akio. Jordan…you boys understand?” 

Alex and Jordan, their voices trembling “y-yes” 

“Good...” he murmured, his grip weakening. “Tell your mom I love her… And you two, don’t give her a hard time, alright?”

Alex's eyes remained tearless, while Jordan, now fully crying, snots coming out “yes sir.” 

“Good boys...now lay me down, I want to rest.” 

Alex supported his father's back with one arm, his other hand gripping Marcus's as he gently lowered him to the pavement.

Jordan meanwhile, face tight with grief and rage, stood up and turned to the mutant boy still standing in shock, trembling, whispering apologies. He grabs the boy by his collar and starts screaming in his face, his saliva going

everywhere. “You fucking mutie.” He says as he punches the boy's face. 

The boy staggered back and didn’t defend himself.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said again, tears streaking down his cheeks.

Jordan hit him again. “ Sorry won’t bring my dad back-”

He swung again.

Another hit.

And another.

“You piece of—shit— freak —”

Alex's world suddenly went completely silent. There was no thought. No feeling. Just a hollow, ringing void where his heart should be. He stayed like that, kneeling on the pavement, for a long moment, unaware of Jordan's

enraged shouts nearby.

And then, a single, jagged thought broke through the static in his brain, a whisper of pure, cosmic despair.

Again.

His eyes, still numb, slowly shifted from his father's peaceful face to the little boy being pummeled. The hollow void inside him began to fill with something cold, heavy, and hard as stone.

“Jordan stop” came Alex’s voice, a quiet whisper. 

Jordan turned, fists red, shaking, face twisted in fury. Alex knelt still beside their father’s body, eyes red, mouth trembling.

“He’s gone.” 

Jordan stood frozen, breathing hard, his heart beating a million times per minute, his pupils constricted, his fist clinched.

But he didn’t swing again.

***

Later sirens wailed in the background.

Alex waited beside the ambulance while Jordan was getting his fist treated. The mutant boy is now in the back seat of the cop car, face bruised and wet with tears.

An officer approached them “I'm sorry about your father, he was the best of us… you boys need a ride home?” 

“It's fine, officer, our mom is on her way.” Alex replied quietly.

The cop just nods before turning to Jordan “that's a hell of a beating.” 

Jordan didn't respond

“Well, can't say I blame you” He said, then paused. “I won't put this on record…god knows you’ve been through enough,” He says as he gently taps Jordan’s shoulder. 

“Thanks…” Jordan’s voice a low whisper. The cop tips his hat and leaves.

As the police car pulled off, Alex watched him, the sound of sirens and people now a distant background, a hard cold gaze on the mutant.

Chapter Text

Four years later, that same cold, hard gaze now stares down a barrel.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The sound of metal targets being hit, the rhythmic recoil against his shoulder, the smell of gunpowder in the humid Georgia air, they were therapeutic. 

The world had shrunk to the heat of Georgia, the taste of mud, and the constant, screaming voice of a Ranger instructor. 

***

Night in the forests of Fort Benning was a disorienting hell of exhaustion and impossible deadlines. It was the land navigation course. Alex, map in hand, was running on less than two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight. An

instructor materialized out of the darkness beside him.

"What's the matter, private?" the instructor loud in his ear, shining a red-lensed flashlight onto Alex's map. "Having trouble reading that in the dark with those slanted eyes of yours? You better pick up the pace if you want in the 75th"

Alex’s blood ran cold. It was the same casual, thoughtless cruelty he'd seen from the mob that harassed the mutant boy. He felt the old rage spark, the desire to react, to fight. But he choked it down. That was the test. They

weren't just trying to break his body; they were trying to break his mind.

His face remained a stone mask. He didn’t give the man the satisfaction of a reaction. He just refolded the map with sharp, precise movements, pointed to a ridge on the horizon, and said in a flat, steady voice, "checkpoint three, Sergeant. Moving."

He took off at a jog, leaving the instructor standing alone in the darkness. He would not break.

***

The reward for getting down in the dirt are plates of undercooked rice and dry chicken. Flies buzz. Cadets lean forward on their elbows, too tired to pretend they’re having a good time. Alex sits at the edge of the group, poking

at his food.

A recruit starts talking between mouthfuls “You know, me and my daughter used to go to those anti-mutant marches back home. Before everything got so damn political.”

He chuckles, nostalgic.

Alex scoffs, just loud enough.

The table quiets slightly. The recruit raises an eyebrow. "What? You a mutie-lover?"

Alex doesn’t even look up. “I just think if you’re gonna hate someone, at least do it for something real. Not because a gene scared you ... .those rallies are just you being loud, Wasting time.”

“So what, you trust them mutants?” a cadet down the table asked.

“No,” Alex said, calm as ice. “But I don’t waste my time playing dress-up with picket signs.”

That gets a few chuckles from other cadets, before they continue to chat among themselves.

But inside, a familiar, sour churn started in Alex’s gut. It wasn’t sympathy. It was disgust, pure and simple.

They’re not better than the group of people that harassed the little boy.

He digs into his food. silently.

***

The final ruck march was twelve miles, under the clock, in full gear. Every step was agony. Alex's shoulders were raw, his legs were numb, and his mind was a fog of pain. He saw the face of the mutant boy who killed Marcus,

the terror in his eyes. He saw the flash of tentacles. He stumbled, catching himself on a pine tree, his vision swimming.

no…don’t stop.

And so pushed himself off the tree and forced one foot in front of the other and kept going. He stopped thinking in words. Pain became a second skin. Hunger, a constant ache in his ribs. Every movement burned. Every breath

was loud in his ears.

And still he pushed forward.

Because stopping means facing it.

***

August, 2018, Alex 19 years old

Rows of newly minted Rangers stood at attention, sweat trickling beneath their collars, boots polished enough to catch the sky. The ceremony had ended. Alex, now 18, stood before them in his crisp dress uniform, the tan

beret sitting sharply on his head. He was the same boy, but he was different. The last of his teenage softness had been burned away, replaced by a hard, lean frame. He seemed taller, yet somehow smaller, as if he'd been

stripped down to his essential, unbreakable components.

Dana reached out, her hand hovering for a moment before gently touching his cheek, as if to make sure he was real.

"Just look at you. How much you've changed in a year." Dana said, tears welling up on the sides.

She pulled him into a fierce, tight hug.

"Did they even feed you, Akio?"

Alex hugged her back. A small, genuine smile touched his lips for the first time that day.

"They fed us, Mom. Just enough."

***

That night, at a steakhouse just outside the gates of Fort Benning, they celebrated. The restaurant was loud, filled with the  energy of young men who had just survived hell together. For the first time, Dana and Jordan saw Alex

not as the quiet boy they had taken in, but as one of these formidable men. This was his world now. The thought was both a source of immense pride and a quiet, unspoken pang of loss.

“So, you still writing parking tickets, or have they let you do any real police work yet, Jordan?” Alex asked, sitting across from Jordan.

Jordan leans back, matching his smirk. It's the same old teasing they've done for years.

“Ha.Ha.Ha. Funny. For your information, I just made the Emergency Service Unit. So while you're crawling in the mud, I'll be the guy in the big scary armor kicking down doors.

Dana reached out to hold Alex’s hand, her smile warm but tired.

“Your father would be so proud.”

The teasing instantly evaporates. A moment of quiet hangs in the air, heavy with the memory of Marcus. Dana looks from Jordan's proud face to Alex's hardened one.

“...of both of you. My boys.”

She forces a brighter smile, trying to push away the sadness.

“God help any bad guys in this city. Between a Ranger and a SWAT cop, I guess I know who to call if I need a problem... 'handled'.”

Jordan laughs, and Alex manages a small, genuine smile. 

Chapter Text

Afghanistan, July 2019, first deployment - Counter-insurgency. Mission tally: 42

The ready room buzzed with the  chaos of a pre-mission gear-up. The air smelled of sweat, gun powder, and nervous energy. Alex was checking the magazines for his rifle, loading each one with a practiced, almost meditative rhythm.

Across from him, Martinez, a big man from California, was struggling with a new strap on his plate carrier. Grunting and puffing "Who the hell designed this new buckle system? I swear, it was an officer who's never seen a day of dirt in his life." 

Alex continued his prep, not looking up from loading his magazines "It was designed to be idiot proof. They just underestimated the genius of a truly determined idiot."

A few of the other Rangers let out a low chuckle. Their Squad Leader, Staff Sergeant Miller, walked by and tapped Alex's helmet.

“Be nice, rook. He's the one carrying the big gun."

“It’s been 4 months, we’re going home soon. When do i graduate from “rook.””

Miller just shook his head, a weary but fond smile on his face. “Never.” Before he looked at his squad, a collection of deadly, sarcastic children.  

"Alright, listen up! Final checks. Comms are green. Intel says light resistance. We’ll be going home next week, so let's keep it clean alright? and be back here for breakfast. Wheels up in five."

Alex slapped the final magazine into his rifle, the sound a sharp, definitive click . The banter was over.

1.5 hours later, 0100

Whump, whump, whump, whump…

The helicopter rotors blurred into a low frequency hum, almost hypnotic. Alex closed his eyes.

Inhale. One... two... three... four.
Hold. One... two... three... four.
Exhale. One... two... three... four.
Hold. One... two... three... four.

Box breathing…humanity’s greatest invention. Alex thought

“ Two minutes, ” the pilot announced through his headset.

Alex opened his eyes, everything was a ghostly blur of phosphor green. Time to go to work.

Target Building:

The Blackhawk hovered. One by one, the Rangers fast-roped into a dusty clearing.

Footsteps in gravel.

Night vision green.

Alex was 3rd in the stack.

Breach.

Two shots.

One down.

Hand signal. Clear.

It was clinical. No screaming. No drama. Everything over in under 30 minutes.

Back on the bird. Helmet off. Calm heartbeat.

He breathed. Four in. Four out.

These direct action raids, now a routine, ingrained in his muscle.

Back at base, 0700:

Debrief. Gear maintenance. Logs. Paperwork. The boring skeleton of military life. Alex sat in the canteen with a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, and unseasoned chicken. His body was tired but steady.

Then came a voice inside his head. A cold, intrusive, psychic echo. It was Professor Xaiver’s mass telepathic message he sent as he tells the humans of earth about  Krakoa “.....We are the future, an evolutionary inevitability, the earth's true inheritors. You closed your eyes last night believing this world would be yours forever. That was your dream and like mine…it was a lie. Here is a new truth: While you slept, the world changed.”

The canteen was silent, soldiers processing the words that came straight into their heads. Alex's head was lowered, eyes wide and pupils constricted. Sweat trickled down his face, as his grips bent the cheap metal spoon.

Ford Moore, Georgia, late 2019, dwell time:

Sweat rolled down his back, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. 6 miles run. Alone with his thoughts. The echoes of Xavier’s speech remain with him. “We are the future, an evolutionary inevitability, the earth's true inheritors.”

On the range, the steel targets stood in a row, waiting. Alex raised his rifle, sight picture sharp through the optic.

He squeezed the trigger. Ding .

Xavier’s voice echoed in his head, low and smug. the earth's true inheritors.

Alex reset his stance, adjusted his grip. Ding.

the future, an evolutionary inevitability He almost laughed. If they were the future, they sure as hell lose a lot.

Another round down the range. Ding.

The more he thought about it, the more the words scraped at him. Calling yourself the future, an evolutionary inevitability, the earth's true inheritors meant you thought yourselves as superior. Meant you thought you could do whatever you wanted, take whatever you wanted, and the rest of the world should just bow.

He fired again, faster this time. Ding. Ding.

Xavier’s speech burned in his mind..

Over my dead body, Alex thought, and kept shooting.

Chicago, early 2020, Dwell time, back home:

Alex watches the TV intently with Jordan, it was a news panel discussion

The host: "The mutant responsible for the destruction that left 12 dead in Phoenix, Arizona will be extradited to Krakoa. Here with us today is John, a former intelligence analyst. John, what do you make of this?”

John:  “Well...”

John’s words became distant, fading into a low hum as Alex’s mind raced.

Mutants play by their own rules, he thought. And we’re not worthy to judge them. What kind of consequences will he face? Will he even get a real trial, or is this just mutant theatre?

John’s voice grew clearer again, as he snapped out of his thoughts “.....ey are making it clear, we are not worthy to judge them, nor are we worthy of stepping on their land.”

Alex and Jordan stare at the TV. No words.

Alex’s jaw works, like he's chewing glass.

Then he stands. Walks away.

Jordan watches him leave, then back at the TV, gripping the remote tightly.

Syria, 2020, 2nd deployment - Joint operation with local forces, clearing insurgent compounds. Mission tally: 54

The roar of the Blackhawk's rotors was a distant sound. Alex wasn't there. He was in his own head, the news report from a few days ago playing on a loop. The supply of the miracle drugs will be withheld by the Krakoan government until new trade deals have been reached. 

Just like he said, Alex thought, our “superiors” playing with lives. Deciding who lives and dies like it’s just another bargaining chip

The familiar crackle of the radio snaps him out of his thoughts “2 minutes”

They hit the ground hard, moving fast. Alex was second in the stack this time. The breach came clean. He saw a target, raised his rifle. Two shots, center mass. The target dropped. 

Then he fired again.

and again.

Miller grabs his shoulder “Double-tap was enough, man.”

Alex lowered his rifle. He didn't look at his squad leader. He didn't say a word. He just reloaded his weapon and moved to the next door.

Niger, 2021, 3rd Deployment - hostage rescue. Mission tally: 97

The blazing hot sun of Niger drenched Alex in sweat. He was hiding in the garage, hanging out with James, a fellow squad mate, drinking smuggled cold beer.

“Times like this I wish I was an officer” James said, laying on a makeshift hammock between two humvees.

“You’d be bored as shit.” Alex took a long drink, sitting on the floor, back leaning on a tire.

They stayed like that a while, hiding from the heat and pretending they weren’t halfway through another hellhole of a deployment. Then-

“You boys hide the beer and come” Miller ordered.

Miller took them to the canteen where a news special was airing on the tiny wall-mounted TV: In a historic feat, the mutant nation of Krakoa has successfully terraformed Mars. The planet, now renamed Arakko, will serve as a second homeworld for mutantkind. What this means for the balance of power on Earth remains to be seen…”

“Holy shit!” James muttered..

“Yea…they did it like it was nothing” Miller said in a quiet whisper, his face down.

Alex was quiet. In his head thoughts swirl. He pictured a map of the world from his Ranger briefings. Every hot zone, every threat, every problem humans still couldn’t solve after centuries… and here they were, moving on to another planet like Earth was yesterday’s project.

“They just… took a planet,” he muttered, almost to himself.

James looked to him, eyebrows raised “not like we were using it anyway”

Alex scoffed. “It’s not about using it. It’s about what it says.”

“High ground,” Miller nodded. 

“Right ... .if you’ve got the high ground, you control the fight. Mars is the high ground. They can walk away from Earth whenever they want… and do whatever they want here, no oversights, no treaties, no one to answer to. If shit hits the fan here… they’ve got a backup world waiting for them.”

James frowned. “You think they’d abandon us?”

“Why wouldn’t they? you saw what happened with the medicine. how they treat borders like suggestions. They can walk into our heads whenever they want. There are no borders. No walls. No privacy. They can touch anyone, anywhere. Everything they do says the same thing, their world comes first. Now they’ve got two of ‘em.” Alex replied

There was silence between the three, heavy as the realization hit.

Suddenly Miller claps “Alright boys, that’s enough politics. Let the politicians handle it. Focus on the mission tonight” 

“Yes sir” James saluted with a grin.

“Sure…” Alex said under his breath. Eyes still focusing on the TV.

0300, mission time:

That night Alex was first through the door at every opportunity. He moved fast, and sharp. His fire was heavier, more aggressive. Kicking doors, clearing rooms before anyone else got there. Miller tried to tell him to ease up. He didn’t. He wasn't there for the hostage. He wanted to keep fighting.

He was venting.

Thanksgiving 2021, Chicago, Dwell time:

Dana’s table smelled like roasted turkey and mashed potatoes, but the TV stole the room: Sources reveal that Krakoa possesses resurrection technology, but it is available exclusively to mutants.

Alex drops his mug, shattering on the hardwood floor and splashing coffee across the rug. The reporter's words 'resurrection... for mutants only', echoed in his ears, drowning out everything els e.

"Holy shit" Jordan exclaims. The cookie he was eating, crumbling.

Dana was silent, hand going to her chest, her thumb instinctively rubbing the simple gold wedding ring she never took off. Her gaze was distant, not looking at the TV anymore, but at a portrait of Marcus.

"yeah..." Alex’s fist clenched and his jaw tightened. “Holy shit”. Xavier’s calm, chilling words about being the ‘earth’s true inheritors’ echoed in his head, and he finally understood what it meant.

Jordan looked from the screen to Dana, then to Alex, the same helpless anger from their father's funeral reflected in his eyes. "Our dad… died protecting one of em..."

Yemen, 2022, 4th Deployment - Counterterrorism. Mission tally: 122

Alex smashed through the door. 2 combatants, one left one right. Alex went to the right as Martinez handled the left. 

Alex marches forward, his gun jamming as the combatant shoots his shoulder.

Alex dropped his rifle, he charged at the combatant with speed, closing the distance in the small room quickly, as he tackled the enemy to the ground and wrestled his gun away.

Alex hit him in the face. Releasing his frustration.

Then again

Again. The smell of iron started to fill his nose. 

Again. 

Again

Blood splattering on the wall and his kevlar vest. His fist stung, no longer landing on anything solid. Just mush.

yet he kept hitting.

Again

And again

“Alex, stop!” Martinez shouted as he pulled Alex away from the now faceless enemy. “The fuck is wrong with you man? You’ve been getting more and more aggressive”

“It’s nothing,” Alex said as he brushed him off and picked his rifle up from the floor. “C’mon, lets keep moving.”

His squad is silent, as Miller watches him with worry.

Back at FOB:

Alex was having a smoke when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Sato” Miller's voice came, serious.

Alex turns, his face a blank mask.

Miller’s voice was low, but full of a tightly controlled anger "What the hell is going on in your head? And don't you dare give me that 'I'm fine' bullshit. The whole squad is walking on eggshells around you."

He takes a step closer, his voice softening just a little, the anger giving way to a deep, troubled concern.

"Look... at first, on the last tour... yeah, we all thought it was something else. Badass. The things you were doing. First man in, fastest on the trigger. But this? What you did today?" He shakes his head. "That wasn't a soldier, Alex. That was someone trying to get himself killed."

Miller's eyes are pleading.

"You keep this up, and you are going to end up in a box. And as your Squad Leader... as your brother... I am not going to let that happen on my watch."

He puts a hand on Alex's uninjured shoulder. "So please. For the love of God, talk to someone. Talk to me . Before you do something that none of us can walk back from."

A long, heavy silence hangs between them. Alex's gaze is distant, empty. He doesn't acknowledge the hand on his shoulder. He doesn't acknowledge the plea.

"...Are we finished, Staff Sergeant?" Alex said, as he stubbed out his cigarette and walked off.

Late 2022, Chicago, Dwell time, Back home:

Alex stares at the blank tv in the living room, his reflection distorted. 

Dana watches him with worry, as Alex goes back to his room.

Dana called Jordan on the phone “Jordan, honey. He's home. He's been staring at a blank TV screen for an hour and won't say a word to me. Can you... can you just come by? Maybe talk to him…please?"

“Alright mom, I’ll come by after work” Jordan replied.

At around 7pm Jordan came by. He stood outside Alex’s door with 2 beers and took a deep breath, then knocked softly.

“Hey” he said as he moved from the door to sit on Alex’s bed, handing him a beer.

“What's up?” Alex stood up from his computer desk and walked over to sit next to Jordan.

Jordan took a slow sip of his own beer, gathering his thoughts. “Nothing man…” Jordan paused, looking around the familiar room “you remember when we used to play basketball with dad and we kept losing…”

Alex smiled faintly “Yea and then you’d cry to mom, and she had to comfort you”. They shared a short laugh “So?” Alex asked.

“It's nice that mom is always there to comfort us…to help us huh?” Jordan said.

Silence fell. Both stared down at their beers like they held the answers to something they didn’t want to face.

Finally Alex broke it “I don’t need help Jordan”

“C’mon Alex, we both know that’s not true”

“I don-”

“Just see a therapist”

“I’m Fin-”

“For Mom, plea-”

Alex slammed his beer bottle down on the nightstand, the sound making Jordan flinch. “I’M FINE!” Alex shouted, his chest heaving.

For a moment there was silence again. Alex deflated, the rage vanishing as quickly as it came, replaced by a familiar, hollow shame. He wouldn't meet Jordan's eyes. 

“I’m - I’m sorry man, the last tour ... .It's getting to me. You know how it is.” Alex apologized, wiping his sweat from his forehead, then sipping his beer.

“It’s fine dude” Jordan stood up “I’m sorry I pushed you”

Alex nodded.

“But mom is worried ... .so please…think about it.” Jordan said as he left. 

Alex sat alone in the room with his beer. Completely still for a moment. Before chugging the whole bottle.

February 2023, Ukraine, 5th deployment- Anti-paramilitary operations. Mission tally: 129

The speaker shrieked at 0120, a single, tearing sound that ripped Alex from a shallow, dreamless sleep. Before it had even finished its first wail, the metallic voice of the base's speaker system was already blaring, the words echoing in the cold night air.

“QRF, SPIN-UP, SPIN-UP, SPIN-UP. ALL PERSONNEL, QUICK REACTION FORCE, REPORT TO THE READY ROOM. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."

Twenty minutes later, Alex was suited up and sitting in the vibrating belly of a Blackhawk, Blades already spinning. Staff Sergeant Miller was plugged into the command net, his face illuminated by the green glow of a data screen.

Once they were in the air, Miller's voice crackled through their headsets, calm and professional amidst the roar of the rotors.

“Alright, listen up. This is a rescue and recovery. SEAL team went dark on a recon op two hours ago. Their last transmission put them pinned down inside a Russian-backed PMC base at these coordinates. Us and three other squads are going in to kick the door down and bring our boys home." 

The Blackhawk landed hard in a rocky valley, the ramp dropping before the skids had even fully settled. An hour later, after a grueling two mile infiltration through the dark, Alex and his squad arrived at their position north of the base. They stayed low, hiding behind a line of thorny bushes overlooking the target compound. Miller was already on the comms, his voice a low whisper as he coordinated with the other squad leaders.

After a few minutes, he turned to his squad, the screen of his ATAK device glowing in the darkness. "Alright, listen up. Here's the satellite overlay." He pointed to the screen. "We're the northern assault element. Our primary is this U-shaped building with the comms tower. The other squads will hit the surrounding structures from the east, west, and south simultaneously. Intel says their leader is a mutant. We don't know his capabilities, so stay sharp."

"The hell's a mutant doing out here? Thought they all went to that magic island." James commented

"Maybe he likes the thrill." Martinez answered while checking his magazines.

"Focus,” Miller ordered “Damien's squad is initiating from the south. Their first breach is our go-signal. Sync your watches. We move in five."

The next 5 minutes was a hellish tense nerve wrecking silence. Each soldier doing their own pre battle rituals. Some praying, some holding on to their good luck charm. Alex was doing his box breathing.

Inhale. One... two... three... four.
Hold. One... two... three... four.
Exhale. One... two... three... four.
Hold. One... two... three... four.

Then, in the dead of the night, the loud sound of guns and grenades fills the air, coming from the south.

The sound of Damien's squad initiating their assault from the south, a sudden, violent mix of explosions and gunfire was their signal.

"Go!" Miller's voice commanded in their headsets.

Alex’s squad moved from the bushes, a line of silent, running shadows. The guards at the northern gate, their attention now desperately fixed on the southern attack, never saw them coming.

"Frag out!" a voice called. Two grenades sailed over the fence, landing in the guard post with a pair of deafening CRUMPS.

Before the smoke from the explosions had even cleared, Alex and his team were on them. It wasn't a wild firefight; it was a methodical execution. Alex's rifle was up, two rounds into the chest of a stunned guard in the tower to his left. To his right, Martinez dropped to a knee, his M249 machine gun chattering in short, disciplined bursts, stitching a line across a sandbagged position.

Ten seconds of precise, overwhelming violence. The enemy was not just thrown into chaos; they were simply erased..

Once the gate was cleared, they flooded through and immediately took cover behind some concrete barriers. The U shaped building in sight. Roughly 60 meters to the entrance.

Miller’s voice crackled through the radio “Alpha Team, you're with Sergeant Sato, take the east flank! Beta is with me, we're taking the west! We link up on the second floor! Go!"

Alex and his team immediately laid down suppressing fire to keep the enemy’s head down as Miller and his team rushed to the western entrance of the building.

Suddenly, the comms channel in his headset exploded with panicked, overlapping shouts from Beta Team.

"Contact west! Heavy fire from the rooftop—" Came James’s voice

The roof? Alex turned to see that the roof of a nearby building near the west entrance had what seemed to be 10 soldiers.

"James, suppress that roofline! I'm moving—" Miller's voice cut off, replaced by a wet, gurgling sound and a sudden, terrible silence on his channel.

A new voice, young and terrified, screamed over the net. The new rookie, Tony. "MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN! IT'S MILLER! STAFF SERGEANT'S HIT! HE'S..." The voice choked with a sob. "...he's gone. Miller's KIA."

Alex froze for a single, heart-stopping second behind the cover of a wall. The alley, the dust, the mission, it all disappeared. There was only the static in his ear and the sound of his friend dying.

…… fuck. He wanted to grief.

But the training slammed back into place, cold and absolute. Grief later. Command now. He keyed his headset, his voice now devoid of all emotion, a cold, hard instrument of authority. 

"All callsigns, this is Alpha Lead. I have the net. Acknowledge. Continue with the plan”

The next twenty minutes were a blur of shouting, and blood. Alex moved through the building not as a man, but as an engine of pure, cold fury, fueled by the ghost of his friend's voice in his ear. He didn't lead his team, he drove them, a relentless force of violence at their head. They took casualties. The enemy took more.

Finally, they breached the door to the central command post. The room was a mess of shattered electronics and overturned furniture. And in the middle of it all stood a single man, blue skin, about 8 feet tall, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Don’t shoot,” he said calmly. Arms raised.

“On the ground, hands behind your head!” Alex ordered.

The mutant complied as Martinez zipped him up.

“What's your powers!” Alex asked.

“Nothing, My skin is blue and I'm 8 '2. That's it...What I do have is leadership skills”

“You ran this operation?” Alex stared.

“I did,” the mutant paused. “I surrendered…That means something… doesn’t it?”

Alex's arms are shaking, full of cuts and bruises from the battles. He raises his rifle and aims at the mutant’s head. “Does it?”

“Alex stop, don’t make me watch you do something you can't come back from” Martinez placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “We’ve already got him, he’ll go to court,”

“Court? You mean the Krakoan court? The one we know nothing about?”

Martinez was silent for a moment. Before “The Geneva convention states tha-”

Alex cuts him off “THEY THREW THAT PROTECTION AWAY, WHEN THEY DECIDED ONLY THEY CAN JUDGE THEMSELVES” 

He takes a ragged breath, his eyes wild.

Then, his voice drops. The rage recedes, replaced by something much colder and more terrifying. “....If human laws don't apply to them…They’re no longer part of the law and justice system we created…nor will they be protected by it.”

There was a moment of silence in the room as the squad processed what Alex had said.

Finally Alex turned to Martinez. “Besides….they can get resurrected anyway right?”

Alex turned and aimed, Marcus’s badge number tattooed on his left forearm visible, judging him, he felt it burning, as if trying to get him to lower the gun.

The mutant didn’t beg. Just met Alex’s gaze, eyes unwavering. “We don’t get new lives. We just get to keep living the same pain, over and over.”

“Then live with it”

Bang bang.

2 deafening shots. 

Then silence. 

Just the sound of casings hit the floor.

Chapter Text

In the 5 years since Ashley's death, Alice's world has been grey and hollow. She moved through life like a ghost. The vibrant colors of the city seemed muted, the cheers of the people they saved were just a distant noise.

She assisted the x men from time to time. Evacuations. Rescue work. Sometimes even fighting alongside them. But each time, she caught the flicker of fear in a stranger’s eyes, a mother’s arm tightening around her child when Alice stepped too close. 

Once, that would’ve hurt. Now, it barely registered. Just a dull, hollow ache where Ashley’s voice, bright, stubborn, always insisting people were worth it, used to be.

Why are we even doing this? The question circled in her head, without an answer.

Then the world changed.

July, 2019

Vines covered the school in green, and a portal sprouted from the ground. Jean led the way, promising a safe haven for mutants. Krakoa.

They watched as Magneto, cloaked in white stood before the diplomats, not a request, a declaration...you have new gods now.

The people who watched cheered. So did Alice but she wondered. New gods? Isn't that too far?

She looked around. Nobody else seemed to think so. Their faces shone with pride. Defiance. They just knew they were no longer holding back, asking or begging. 

They were taking their place. Whether the world was ready or not.

August, 2019, Coast of Brazil.

Alice grew restless in Krakoa, having lived an eventful life. She joined the marauders under Kate Pryde to rescue mutants that couldn’t get to Krakoa.

“Run!” Alice screamed as she helped 2 other mutants escape from a prison, dodging bullets.

A soldier dove after them, gun blazing. One of the rescued, a small boy with crablike forearms, stumbled, then turned.

Alice watched, half expecting another missed step. Instead the boy’s arms snapped outward like pincers. He closed on the man’s throat. There was an awful, soft tearing sound, the soldier’s head slumped. The spray of blood misted the boy’s face.

For a second the world froze, the wind, the engine, the shouting. Then the old woman who’d been beside the boy shoved him toward the boarding ramp.

“Move!” she barked.

On the boat, Alice cornered the boy as he was settling himself.

“Why did you do that? We could have escaped just fine.” 

“He was shooting at us.” The boy said, locking eyes with Alice, unwavering.

The other mutant that escaped with them, an older woman, came to defend him. “Leave the boy alone, it was self defense”

“That was being an executioner. You…one of our rules is to kill no humans.” Alice retorted.

The older woman quickly replied “And our other rule is to make more mutants. The boy’s alive because he acted, and that means our people’s future is alive. I call that justice.”

Alice stood in stunned silence, she wanted to retort, everything the X-men have taught her for the past decade echoed in her head: 

“We save everyone Alice” Storm would say “We have to hold ourselves to a higher standard than our enemies”. She remembers Professor Xavier's words “Our greatest battle is to prove to humanity that they have nothing to fear from us."

Then she remembers the cold, intrusive, mass psychic message from Professor X as he tells the humans of earth about  Krakoa “ ….We are the future, an evolutionary inevitability, the earth's true inheritors. You closed your eyes last night believing this world would be yours forever. That was your dream and like mine…it was a lie. Here is a new truth: While you slept, the world changed.”

She watches the shoreline of Brazil disappear into the horizon; she wonders… have we abandoned our ideals?.

August, 2019, Krakoa.

A few days after the mission, Alice jogged alongside her old friend and mentor, Storm. The air was heavy with salt and the hum of cicadas.  They stood at the top of a hill overlooking Krakoa to rest. Alice’s mind, still processing this new power they now have on the world stage and the recent mission. 

Strom looks at her conflicted eyes “I know you Alice, we have been friends for over a decade. You are thinking about the humans aren’t you.”

Alice was silent. 

“The humans who sent that machine. You are thinking about Orchis. You think they built it because they fear us. Because they fear the power that now resides here, on this island. You think they are just defending themselves."

Alice looked away. “Isn’t that what it is? A reaction to power?” 

Storm turns to Alice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That is a convenient lie they tell themselves. Let me tell you about the world before Krakoa. Before we had this power, this unity.” She pauses briefly. 

"Do you know what Genosha was, child? It was our first attempt at a nation. A paradise. We were not threatening the world. We were simply living. And humanity answered with a different kind of Sentinel, one that killed sixteen million of our people in a single afternoon. Sixteen million permanent graves. Was that a 'response to a power imbalance'?"

Alice shook her head, fist clenching as she remembered the story.

"Before that, there were the Purifiers. Men with guns and crosses who dragged mutant children from their beds and burned them alive, calling them demons. They did not fear a power imbalance. They feared a difference they could not understand….Before that, there was a plague, the Legacy Virus, engineered by a human to target and kill us, to make our own powers rot us from the inside out.”

Storm turns Alice to face her, both hands on her shoulder. She lifts Alice face by her chin, looking her straight in the eye "And before all of that, Alice... There was a mob. A small group of ordinary humans with rocks and bats and hate in their hearts, who broke into an apartment and burned a young couple to death in front of their daughter because they were afraid. They were not Orchis. They were not soldiers. They were just... humans. They did not need a geopolitical reason. Their hate was enough."

Storm releases Alice, as she turns to look at Krakoa "Orchis is not new, Alice. It is just the old monster in a new suit of armor. They do not fear us because we are a threat. They hate us because we are .

"This place," she gestures to the lush sprawl of Krakoa,  "is not an act of aggression. It is the full stop at the end of a very long and bloody sentence written in our blood. They are our promise to ourselves that there will never be another Genosha. They are our shield against the next mob that comes for a family like yours."

Storm turns to Alice again, looking her in the eyes, her own filled with a sorrow and a fury that is decades old.

"So yes, you feel pride in this place. You feel your power growing. You feel that we are better. Do not be ashamed of that feeling. That is not supremacy. That is survival . That is the feeling of a people who have been on their knees for a hundred years, finally standing up straight. And we will never, ever kneel again."

Alice’s breath caught. She wanted to argue, to say this pride could turn into the same arrogance the X-Men had warned against.

But the words didn’t come.

What came instead was warmth in her chest. Pride.

And it scared her how good it felt.

September, 2019, Krakoa.

Alice stood among hundreds of mutants, all pressed shoulder to shoulder in the great clearing. The sun was setting, bleeding gold over the sea.

eight figures stood underneath the purple tree, eight who had died. Alice knew their faces, their histories. She had mourned them. Now they stood alive, bare skin catching the sunlight, covered in orange liquid. Behind them, the sun shone through the purple tree, making them glow.

Storm stepped forward. She stood before the first of the resurrected and touched his shoulder.

“This is my brother, I know him. As do you. Yes his name is Cyclops. But he is more than that”

She turned to the crowd, arms raised “What is he?”

The roar came back at once, fists rising like a tide. “MUTANT!”

The word struck Alice’s chest like a drumbeat.

Storm moved to the next, her voice like a litany. “This is my sister, I know her. As do you. Yes her name is Jean Grey. But she is more than that. What is she?”

“MUTANT!” The roar came back once again, fists rising.

Again and again, the names, the call, the answer. The sound was a wave that broke and rebuilt itself with every chant, voices merging until no single throat could be heard, only one will, one people.

Alice felt it vibrating in her bones, in her blood. She thought of the boy in Brazil, the woman who called killing “justice,” Storm’s words on the hill. She thought of every human hand that had ever pointed at her as if she were a disease.

The final name was spoken. The final answer thundered back. “MUTANT!”

The resurrected stood together now in the middle of the crowd, lit from behind by Krakoa’s glow, their bodies haloed in gold. Mutants all around Alice, raised their arms, reaching toward them, not to touch, but to praise. 

As the chants faded, Alice lowered her arm slowly. Her skin tingled, her pulse thundering in her ears. She looked at the eight resurrected, reborn, unbroken, perfect and it hit her like a revelation: this was what it meant to be untouchable. Humans could hate them, fear them, kill them…and it wouldn’t matter. Not anymore. 

They were beneath us , Alice thought.

June 2021, Hellfire Gala

Alice stood in the Hellfire Gala's great hall, a statue in a gown of shimmering charcoal silk, its silver veins pulsing with the faint echo of her own contained lightning. Her mind, like everyone else's, was fixed on the psychic vision Emma.

A world was taking shape in the minds of every guest, a living planet spun from nothing, cradled by Storm, Magneto, and the others. They weren’t waging war. They were making. Building a new home, reshaping the void to their will.

Alice glanced at them, pearls clutched, eyes wide, lips parted between awe and horror. A perfect mix. She turned back to the vision, feeling her pulse in her throat.

This is true power, Alice thought, her hand trembling so hard the drink in her glass sloshed. This is dominance. A single, hot tear of pride traced a path down her cheek. 

She thought of the petty human wars she'd seen on the news, fought over scraps of dirt and ideology. They can never hope to achieve this, she realized. While they fight over the old world, we are building the new one.

July 2022, Amazon forest.

Alice led a small team of mutants on a recon mission to a possible Orchis base.

They sneaked through the shadows. Undetected. They had been shadowing the Orchis outpost for hours, counting guards, mapping exits, memorising patrol rhythms while mosquitos fed freely on their sweat slick skin.

As Alice notes down the intel, she hears a crack of wood. An Orchis soldier patrolling. 

Before the soldier could even lift his rifle, a member of her team, a tall bulky man whose powers are super strength, had already taken him down and easily restrained him with one hand.

“Thank you boulder” Alice said as she walked towards the Orchis soldier, eyes never leaving him, kneeling on the ground, arms behind his back.

“What you wanna do with him Alice,” Boulder asked. 

Alice shot him a glare “It’s Tempest, I don't use my human name Boulder”

“Right, just slipped. Sorry bout that.” Boulder said.

Alice looked at the soldier beneath her, trembling in fear. Eyes begging for mercy. “D-don't kill me, I-i didn't see anything. P-promise” his voice trembled.

“Kill you?” Alice laughed “That is beneath us. We follow our laws unlike your kind...What's your name?”

"E-Evans."

"Evans...I'll remember your name for you." She stood up straight, “Reader” she called to the woman with telepathy, “Erase everything”

“E-everything?” Reader asked, looking at Alice with wide eyes.

“Everything, his name, his family, his birthday…all his memories” Alice said as she grabbed the man’s chin, looking down on him. 

Just like them, she thought, the memory of the mob's faces flashing in her mind. Consumed by a pointless, ugly hate. She felt a flicker of something, not pity, but a cold sense of purpose. Killing him would be an act of hate, just like theirs. But this... this is an act of purification. I am giving him the peace they never gave my family.

“P-please no…just, just kill me!” the soldier begged.

“Shhh” Alice puts a finger on his lips “Consider this a gift, I won’t abandon you here. I’ll be sure to get you home. There, you can start from scratch. A new start…free from all that hatred”

The soldier opened his mouth again to speak, but Alice grabbed it and shut it forcefully. “Reader” she ordered.

Reader reluctantly steps forward. Her hand on his head. She gazed back to Alice, one last chance. But Alice didn’t waver, just giving her a look that tells her to hurry up.

The soldier's eyes rolled back white, and drool spilled from his lips as his mind was being erased. When the deed was done, the soldier slumped to the ground. Unconscious.

Alice wipes her hand on her suit and orders “Boulder, get him on the jet. Reader, tell the pilot where to drop him.”

Chapter Text

February2023.

Alice used her personal connections with Storm, Logan, and other connections she made from over a decade of being in the X-men family to resurrect Ashley and her parents.

Alice stood in front of the Arbor Magna. Alice’s hands were clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. She watched, breath held, as the Five moved in perfect sync. The egg cracked open not with a sound, but with a wave of warmth and the scent of ozone. And then, a body slumped out, perfect and pale, covered in the orange amniotic fluid of rebirth. Ashley. It was real.

Alice rushes to her side and helps her up as Xavier transfers Ashley’s memories to her new body.

“Ashley?” Alice asked.

“Alice?...How?” Ashley’s voice, a quiet whisper.

“I’ll explain later. Let's get you to the healing garden first.” Alice said as she lifted her up and carried her. The feeling was surreal. The impossible, familiar weight of her friend in her arms. She was warm. Real. Alice had to fight back a sob, burying her face for a second in Ashley's damp hair, just to confirm she wasn't dreaming.

As Ashley recovers in the healing garden, Alice and Storm stood in the Abor magna, looking at the husks containing her parent’s bodies.

Storm placed a hand on her shoulder “Be patient Tempest. We could find Ashley easily due to our shared past…However, Jean would have to dive deeper to find your parents.”

“I understand Storm,” Alice placed her hand on Storm’s “I’m just happy I’ll meet them again soon”

Later that night, on a small hill overlooking Krakoa, Alice and Ashley lay, looking at the stars. She reached out to Ashley and smiled “I missed you”

Ashley smiled back, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. It was a perfect copy of the one Alice remembered, but the brilliant, optimistic light behind it was gone. The old Ashley would have been pointing out constellations, making up silly stories about them. This Ashley was just…. quiet.

She stared up at the stars, but seemed to be seeing something else. A flash of red, the shadow of a giant hand, the feeling of her ribs crushing.

“Are you okay?...you know you can tell your Al-Al anything” Alice said as she playfully hit Ashley’s shoulder.

Ashley gave her a small polite smile “It's nothing…I’m just processing all this.”

There was silence again.

Alice watches as Ashley’s gaze remains on the stars, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach as she realizes with a sudden horror that her friend, the girl who was all bright, unstoppable noise, was no longer there. She was looking at Ashley, but the person looking back was a stranger wearing her best friend’s face.

The resurrection had brought back the body, but the trauma had devoured the soul.

She pushed the thought down, deep down into the dark. It was too terrible to face. She just squeezed Ashley's hand, clinging to the warm, living ghost beside her.

Chapter Text

February 2023, Ukraine FOB. 

Upon touch down, Alex was immediately summoned to meet the Lieutenant Colonel.

In the stark white, sterile room of the Colonel, Alex stood at attention, his gaze fixed at a point behind the Colonel.

“Officially, we were never there. It was the Ukrainians. The diplomatic fallout if Russia or Krakoa finds out about what you did to that damn mutant would be a headache.” 

The colonel stood up and lit up a cigar. “You better thank whatever god you worship that you're not put on trial and dishonorably discharged sergeant.”

“So we just pretend it didn’t happen?” Alex asked.

The colonel took a deep smoke, and exhaled in Alex’s face. “Let’s not pretend, Sergeant. Your actions were… unsanctioned. The only reason you're not being hung out to dry is because it’s simpler to let this disappear.”

“And because he was a mutant,” Alex muttered.

“Especially because he was a mutant,” the officer said. “You kill a normal Russian, that’s politics. You kill a Krakoan-recognized citizen? That's an international incident. You understand?”

Alex leaned back, his mouth dry. “Crystal.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

March, 2023

The sky over Leavenworth was a flat, unforgiving grey, the air carrying a chill that had nothing to do with the spring weather. 

Alex stood at attention, his dress uniform stiff and unfamiliar, the wool collar digging into his neck. He was a pallbearer. The weight of Staff Sergeant Miller's flag draped casket on his shoulder was a heavy, undeniable reality. He focused on the drill, on the precise, synchronized movements, on the perfect alignment of his posture with the five other Rangers who shared his burden. It was a mission. A final, terrible mission.

The chaplain's words were a distant, meaningless hum. Alex kept his gaze fixed on a point on the horizon, just as he'd been trained. His face was a mask of stone.

Then came the rifle volleys. A seven-man rifle party raised their weapons. The first Bang was a violent tear in the quiet air. Then the second. Then the third. The sound was sharp, louder than combat, but hollow. 

Then, from a hill somewhere behind them, came the first, lonely note of a bugle.

Taps.

The slow, heartbreakingly pure melody drifted over the field of white headstones. It was the sound of an ending. A sound of profound and irreversible loss. Alex's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. He felt his composure start to crack.

The honor guard lifted the flag from the casket with a reverence that was almost holy. Their white gloved hands moved with a sacred precision, folding the flag into a tight, perfect triangle. A Sergeant Major knelt before Miller's wife, Sarah, and presented the flag to her.

And that's when Alex saw her. Miller's three year old daughter, a little girl in a black dress, sitting on the grass beside her mother's chair. She wasn't crying. She was just playing with a dandelion, blissfully unaware that her world had just been shattered.

The sight of that innocent, uncomprehending child was more devastating than any bullet or explosion. It was the full, terrible weight of the cost. Alex's vision blurred, but before the mask of the Ranger was gone, he sucked it back in.

***

After the ceremony, as the crowd began to disperse, a man in a simple, dark suit fell into step beside Alex as he watched Sarah mourn Miller from a distance.

"A shame, isn't it," the man said, his voice a quiet murmur. "Staff Sergeant Miller. A good man."

Alex said nothing, his eyes still fixed on Miller's widow and his fatherless child.

"A life cut short. A family broken. A little girl who will grow up without a father." He paused, letting the weight of the words settle. "And all because of a single, uncontrolled variable on the battlefield."

Alex finally turned to look at him. The man smiled, a cold, predatory thing that did not reach his eyes.

“We know what you did” He reaches his hand out for a handshake. “John Smith, how would you like to defend humanity.”

Chapter Text

July 2023, Hellfire Gala:

The atmosphere was light, the air smelled of alcohol and perfume. Alice watches with Ashley, hands on glasses of cocktails, as Krakoa presents its newest X-men team. When suddenly a large metallic robot crashes through the roof. Nimrod.

The chaos erupted immediately as Nimrod went after the stronger mutants in the buildings first. A concussive blast threw Alice sideways. Screams replaced the music. Through the smoke, Alice saw the colossal shape of Nimrod, its arm cannon glowing before unleashing another devastating beam into the crowd.

Outside, Stark sentinels were landing on Krakoa. Xavier meanwhile, controlled mutant minds to walk through the Krakoa gates that would trap them on Mars.

Alice immediately tore the bottom of her dress, and ditched her heels as she quickly ran for Arbor Magna where the husk with her parents were.

“Tempest!” Ashley chased after Alice.

***

35,000 ft up above the sky, in the dark quiet cargo of a C-130 Hercules, illuminated by red lights, Alex and a squad of Orchis black ops sits silently. Only the hum of the aircraft’s engine can be heard. Their target was to ensure the neutralization of resurrection, at a location codenamed Arbor Magna.

“2 minutes” the pilot announced through the intercom. The door light goes green as it opens. Alex and his squad stood up and put on their oxygen masks. 

Halo jump… Alex thought. Haven’t done this in a while. 

Alex does his box breathing, taking in the pure oxygen from his mask. First mission for Orchis and its an attack on Krakoa… Alex chuckled at the thought, before all the emotion was suppressed, and his eyes went back to a cold hard gaze. Time to go to work.

“Go.” Alex commanded. Alex and his squad jumped from the plane. They see the chaos ensued beneath them as heroes fought sentinels and Nimrod. A perfect distraction for them to land undetected on Krakoa. 

***

Alice ran through Krakoa, dodging and weaving through rubbles, mutants and humans fighting the robots. 

Ashley’s breathing was ragged as she barely kept up with Alice. When suddenly.

Bang

They were thrown back in opposite directions by an energy blast from a stark sentinel. Alice's dress, now full of tears and dirt. She quickly got back up. 

“Fuck, OFF!” Alice yelled as she let out a large, wild storm of lightning that short circuited the stark sentinels momentarily. 

At that moment, she continued to run towards Arbor Magna, leaving Ashley.

***

As he fell at 200 mph, his eyes kept focused on the landing zone in the middle of the island where the target was and opened his parachute just 500ft above ground. 

They landed hard on the balls of their feet, then rolling to distribute the force of the impact. They quickly ditched their parachute and formed up as they quickly made their way into the giant tree in the middle of Krakoa. 

A few mutants saw them and immediately ran. One of the members of Alex’s squad raised his rifle to shoot before Alex intervened. They were civilians. Unarmed. Not the target.

“Leave them, focus on the mission” He ordered.

Inside Arbor Magna, the sun shone through the tree, illuminating giant orange balls. Alex looks inside and finds bodies.

Alex took a look into one of them as he ordered his squad to set up the charges. 

Alex chuckled. They could have been in one of these balls. Now I’m destroying the one chance I might get to see them again… Alex thought for a moment. …nah, mutants only.

Just then he heard fast footsteps approaching. He raised his rifle as he slowly walked towards the entrance.

A frazzled red haired woman, torn dirty dress, breathing hard stood in front of him.

Her eyes were wild, pupils contracted, brows and mouth furrowed. Lightning crackled between her fingers.

They held eye contact for what seems to be eternity, both hesitating, waiting for the other side to act first.

“YOU FUCKING FASCIST” Alice roared as she unleashed her lightning towards Alex.

As the lightning made its way to Alex, the timeline of his life collapsed into a single, silent second: his parents' smiles on Christmas Eve, Marcus's hand on his shoulder, Miller's final, static filled cry in his ear...His body is telling him to run, but he stood his ground. He pulled the trigger.

BANG. 

ZIPP.

Chapter Text

Cyclops and the X-men walk through the half wrecked Arbor Magna. Blood on top of the steps that leads to the tree.

Logan kneels down and smells it. “Alice’s blood…and Ashley was here, She must have helped Alice”

Just then they heard a cough and a groan a few feet from the bottom of the stairs. They made their way over to see a man sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. His uniform was shredded, and a roadmap of dark, branching

scars, like lightning trapped under the skin, covered his exposed chest, and neck. He was alive, but just barely.

“Didn’t think they made it this far.” Kwannon remarked.

"We were busy with nimrod and sentinels…they slipped pass" Scott said

“Alice’s doing” Logan remarked, as he nudged the body with his feet.

“His suit isn’t red like the others…must’ve been a black ops” Kwannon said as she bends down and looks through his uniform.

“Must have good intel then. Can you go in and get any information that can help us?” Cyclops asked.

Kwannon closes her eyes, her eyes glowing purple, before quickly residing. “No…the shock of Alice’s lightning has damaged his brain. His memories are all jumbled. I can probably go deeper to look for it, but I’m gonna need

cerebro…which we don’t have right now.”

The group was silent for a moment. Looking down on this half dead man.

“What’s it gonna be Scott?” Logan asked. “Roach is still breathin. We leavin him here?”

Scott was silent, his thoughts a mystery behind the red visor. He takes a deep breath and sighed. “Put him in a cryo, we could use his intel when we find a cerebro.”

“You’re kidding. Bitch will pass in an hour or two. Why are we saving an Orchis.” Logan said as he once again kicks the body on the ground.

Kwannon places a hand on Logan's arm, her touch light but firm. "He is a prisoner now, Logan. And his mind is more valuable than your vengeance."

“Logan, we can kill him here, or find out more of where they come from and…kill 1000 more of them. Put him in a cyro” Cyclops ordered.

Logan took a deep breath, his eyebrows frowning. “You’re the boss” Logan said as he carried the soldier’s dead weight over his shoulder.

***

As the blinding light of lightning fades, Alex’s vision slowly comes back to the dark, warm and cozy back of a car he was familiar with. Then, a sound. Faint at first, then clearer. Christmas music.

He was in the back of the car. The world outside the window was a blur of snow and holiday lights. The car smelled of hot chocolate and his mother's perfume. She was next to him, singing along to the Christmas music, her

voice a little off-key, completely perfect. His father caught his eye in the rearview mirror and gave him a warm, familiar wink. It was the last good memory.

His parents turned, their faces not smiling anymore, but full of a gentle, sad concern.

"Have you been well, Akio?" his mother asked.

"Are you happy?" his father added.

Alex looked at their kind, loving faces, and a profound, aching grief washed over him. "I... I don't know," he whispered. He reached out to touch his mother's cheek. It was clean. Perfect. "I missed -"

He never finished the word.

BOOM.

The world outside the car window vanished in a flash of blinding white light. A wave of searing, impossible heat washed over him, engulfing him in flames as the car got torn to pieces.

But he wasn't nine anymore. He didn't scream. He didn't flinch. He just let the familiar fire engulf him.

The warmth of the explosion on his face slowly subsided, becoming the familiar, flickering orange glow of a campfire. The smell of burning metal and gasoline was replaced by the smell of dust and diesel. The warm

comfortable seat of the car was gone, replaced by the hard plastic of a military camp chair.

He was no longer in the car. He was sitting in the cold, dark desert of Afghanistan. Across the fire, Staff Sergeant Miller sat cleaning his rifle, his face a grim, familiar mask. He didn't look up.

"Did it feel good, Sergeant?" Miller asked, not looking up.

Alex didn’t reply.

"Did it make you feel strong?...All that training, discipline…and you threw it all away in a temper tantrum."

"You weren't there," Alex said, his voice hoarse. "You don't know what it was like."

"Don't have to," Miller grunted, working a patch through his rifle barrel. "I just know what happened. Was it worth it, Sato? To throw yourself away like that?"

"Fuck off," Alex snarled.

Miller finally looked up, his eyes full of a deep, weary disappointment. “Don’t forget what us Rangers swore, rook “I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong and morally straight””

The campfire between them began to dim, the flames sinking low, until they were just a pile of glowing, orange embers. The world dissolved into darkness around them, and the only thing left was the fading, dying light. Alex

watched the last ember as it glowed, pulsed... and then became a single, perfect snowflake, drifting down in a silent, empty space.

Another snowflake fell. And another. He was standing in a quiet, snow covered park. His park. He knew that bench. And he knew the man sitting on it, waiting for him. Marcus.

"How are you, son?" Marcus asked, his voice the same warm, gentle sound Alex remembered.

"I'm fine." Alex said as he sat next to him.

Marcus gave a small, sad smile. "You're still a terrible liar."

The silence between them comfortable, familiar.

"All that pain," Marcus said quietly. "That anger, fighting, killing… running. After everything you've done and seen... Do you understand now, son?"

Alex stared out at the silent, snow covered field. "No," he admitted, the words a raw, honest whisper. "I don't. I don't know what the fuck you were trying to tell me, because you're too dead to."

Marcus was silent for a moment as he looked up to enjoy the snow falling on his face.

"Who was Marcus to you, son?" He finally asked.

The question was so simple, so direct, it cut through all of Alex's defenses. His head hung low "My dad," he said, his voice cracking. "A good man… Too good… Naive."

"Then I'm sure you'll understand in time," Marcus said, his voice full of a sad, unwavering faith. "I just hope it won't be too late." He said as he ruffled Alex’s hair.

Alex turned to him, a thousand more questions on his lips. “Tell me - “

Beep... beep... beep...

The sound was faint at first, then loud, insistent, and clinical. The snowy park dissolved into a blinding, sterile white light as he opened his eyes.

***

Bang

Ashley was thrown back by an energy blast from a stark sentinel. Her dress, now full of tears and dirt. She quickly got back up. Watching Alice as she released a large, wild storm of lightning that short circuited the stark

sentinels momentarily and continued to run towards Arbor Magna. Leaving her behind.

Then, the red eye of the Sentinel swiveled and locked onto her as it shrugged off the lightning. The low hum of its systems restarting was a death rattle. Ashley's breath caught, her chest suddenly tight, too tight. The memory

hit her like a physical blow, the crushing pressure, her ribs getting crushed, that same, cold, round red light. It wasn't a choice. It was an instinct, a screaming command from a part of her soul that remembered being broken.

Up. Away. Now. Her power erupted, launching her into the sky, away from the noise and the red lights and the feeling of being erased.

***

Ashley walks through the half wrecked Arbor Magna looking for Alice. A cocoon surrounded by a pool of blood lays on top of the steps that lead to the tree. 

She looks inside to find Alice naked, unconscious in a pool of orange liquid. Her chest, a bullet hole. A second mutation?

Her hand reached out to touch the warm, smooth surface of the cocoon. The frantic terror in her chest was finally replaced by a new, cold, and absolute purpose.

***

September, 2023. Amazon Rainforest.

The first two months were a blur of pure survival. Ashley had used her flight to carry the heavy cocoon away from the ruins of Krakoa, deep into the jungle, to a hidden, abandoned outpost. Every day was a fight. Hunting for

food. Scavenging for supplies. Standing guard through the long, dark rainy nights, an ORCHIS rifle clutched in her hands, her eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of a threat.

One night, during a downpour, she lay huddled in the corner of the dark outpost with the cocoon as it pulsed with its gentle, steady light. She reached out and placed a hand on its surface, as she did every night.

"I'll protect you, Alice," she whispered, her voice a raw, unfamiliar sound in the quiet room. "I promise. No more Sentinels. No more burned apartments. When you wake up, I'll have built a world that can't ever hurt you again."

***

She couldn't do it alone. She started searching from the nearby cities of Brazil, making her way up to the coast of California, before travelling to New York. She found other survivors, other broken children of Krakoa, hiding in

refugee camps and forgotten towns. Meeting old friends, Boulder and Reader. She didn't offer them comfort or hope in a better future. She offered them something better: a cause.

"The X-Men want you to mourn," she would say to a young, powerful mutant who was lashing out in grief. "I'm offering you a chance to fight back. To make the people who did this to us pay. Which sounds better to you?"

They came. One by one. A small, loyal, and fanatical army of the lost.

***

January 2024. New York.

In an abandoned subway line, her army had set up an armed camp across several stations. They had weapons, supplies, and a purpose, all secured through a series of swift, brutal, and efficient raids on ORCHIS convoys.

Ashley stood on a platform, looking down at the community she had built. The cheerful, brunette, with a pink streak from the mansion was gone forever. In her place was a commander, her eyes cold, her face a mask of hard,

pragmatic resolve.

She looked over at the central room, where the cocoon, her sacred possession, her motivation, still pulsed with its quiet, golden light. Her work was not done. This was not a world safe enough for Alice to wake up in. Not yet.

Chapter Text

January 6th, Alaska 2024. 100 Miles from Merle. Abandoned outpost.

“You gotta be kidding me” Elixir said as he stared down at the half burnt body lying on the bed, handcuffed. “You want me to heal this Orchis flatscan?”

“Do it. He might have info we need” Cyclops said. Arms crossed, not looking for a debate.

“Fine…” Elixir said as his lip curled in disgust as he saw the lighting scars that started at the soldier’s chest, up to the chin and down to both hands. Covering the sleeve tattoos on his left arm that started from the left chest over his heart, making it distorted. “but I'm not healing any of his scars. He’ll live” Elixir said as he started to heal the soldier.

***

Beep... beep... beep...

The sound was faint at first, then loud, insistent, and clinical. The snowy park dissolved into a blinding, sterile white light as he opened his eyes.

He tried to get up only to find that he was handcuffed to the railings. He looked to the right, and saw a blond man washing his hands diligently. To the left, three figures were huddled, having a conversation. A med bay. 4 known hostels. No visible weapons.

Ah…fuck Alex thought. He closed his eyes and started doing his box breathing. 

“Ehem” he cleared his throat to get their attention. “I appreciate you guys helping me, but I think I can check out now if that's okay.”

“We didn’t help you flatscan, we want to use you” Elixir said, his finger on Alex’s chest.

Alex looks down at the finger then up, making direct eye contact. “Okay…mutie. Calm down and go back to washing your hands alright?”

Elixir stood straight then headed back to the sink “believe me, I’ll be washing these hands for a while after you.”

Alex turns his attention back at the three people who were now staring at him.

“How is his mind Kwannon?” Cyclops asked.

“I can read it now”

Cyclops turns to his left “good…Laura, can you help to carry him to the interrogation room” 

“Sure” Laura said as she carried his body over her shoulder.

As he was being carried by Laura, he looked around to map the place only to find that every corridor is the same dull grey of a maze. “Don’t you guys have any mutants with interior design powers? Look at this place. I heard that your environment can shape your mood, you know? Maybe that's why you’re all so fucking depressing.”

Smack

Laura slaps his ass. “You talk too much.”

Alex was silent for a moment before going back to annoy them some more. “Harder” he said with a smirk.

But he was completely ignored.

***

At the interrogation room, Alex is strapped to a stark metal chair. He glares at Cyclops, who stands before him, his arms crossed. Laura stands by the wall, watchful and silent. Kwannon waits in the corner.

"My name is Cyclops. You’re a prisoner of the X-Men. We know you were part of the Orchis force that attacked Krakoa."

​He pauses, letting the words sink in.

"We are going to get the intelligence we need from you. There are two ways this can go. The hard way... is you talk. You tell us everything you know, force deployments, leadership, future operations. The easy way..."

​He glances over his shoulder at Kwannon. "...well, the easy way is less of a conversation."

​He turns back to Alex, his expression unreadable behind his visor. He is giving him a choice.

​"So. Let's try the hard way first. How does Orchis find an operator with your level of training and turn him into a killer for their cause? Tell me about your pipeline. Your indoctrination. Training."

​Alex just stared at him, his expression a blank mask. The silence stretched for a long, uncomfortable beat.

​Alex replies, his voice is a little raspy "...You have any water? My throat is kind of dry."

​Cyclops's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He gave a sharp, single nod to Laura.

"Laura."

​She left and returned in less than a minute with a bottle of water. Cyclops took it and held it up to Alex's mouth for him to drink. Alex took a few slow sips, his eyes never leaving Cyclops's.

​After he was done, a tiny, condescending smile touched Alex's lips. "Good boy."

​Laura's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Cyclops's expression did not change, but Alex could feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. He was not taking the bait.

​"Answer the question, or we can do this the easy way."

​He ignored the threat and shifted in the chair. "....I kinda need to pee now. All that water. You know how it is."

​Cyclops just stared at him in tense silence for a full minute, giving Alex one last chance to cooperate. Alex met his gaze, unflinching.

​Finally, Cyclops let out a slow, weary sigh, the sound of a man who was tired of a difficult and inefficient process. The game was over. 

"The easy way, then." He looked to Kwannon. "Please."

​Kwannon stepped forward, the purple butterfly of her psychic power flaring to life around her face. Her expression was calm, professional, implacable.

​Alex watched her approach, a last, desperate, and insolent smirk twisting his lips.

​"Ni hao." Alex said.

​Kwannon didn't even blink. The insult was so far beneath her that it didn't even register. ​She simply placed her glowing hand on his forehead.

​Alex's eyes went wide. It wasn't a gentle probe. It was an invasion. He felt his mental defenses, the walls he spent years building in the Rangers, the anti psychic training from Orchis, being sliced apart like paper. He felt her presence tearing through his memories, ripping them open for her to see. He clenched his jaw, fighting a scream that was trapped in his own mind. It was a violation more profound than any physical blow.

***

​The world inside his head was a fortress, built of disciplined walls and cold, military logic. Kwannon pushed, and the walls pushed back. She was not a guest here; she was an invader. With a final, sharp application of her power, the walls shattered, and she was plunged into the storm of his life.

​It was not a neat archive of files. It was a maelstrom of sense and memory.

​She was nine years old. The car smelled of hot chocolate and her mother's perfume, the sound of Christmas music a warm, golden blanket - 

​BOOM.

​The world is shattering glass and a sound so loud it has no sound. The warmth is gone, replaced by a crushing, wet weight. “Mom?” The word is a choked, silent scream. She feels the boy's tiny, frantic hands trying to wake the dead.

​The scene shifts, lurching forward through years of quiet, hollow grief. She is fifteen, kneeling on a cold sidewalk. A good man, a father, is dying in her arms, his blood staining her shirt. His last, desperate words are a plea, a question that will echo for a decade. "you understand?"

​Time accelerates into a blur of violence. A montage of his Ranger years, not as a highlight reel, but as a series of cold, hard facts. The brutal efficiency of a firefight. The lonely ache of a long deployment. The camaraderie of a shared, dark joke in a dusty tent.

​And then, the poison. She is in the canteen, when Xavier's arrogant mass telepathic message was sent to humans. She feels the boy's cold, quiet fury. She is on a firing range, the repetitive ding of steel targets a background noise to the words repeating in his head, “.....We are the future, an evolutionary inevitability, the earth's true inheritors."

​She is at a Thanksgiving table. The warmth is a fragile illusion, shattered by a news report. Resurrection... for mutants only. She feels his shock. She sees, through his eyes, the silent, crumbling face of his foster mother. She feels his heart break and then freeze over, hardening into a diamond of pure, righteous hatred.

​She is in a ruined, dusty room in a war torn country. A brother and leader is dead.

A blue mutant is on his knees, surrendering. She feels the cold logic wrap around his grief. They threw that protection away. She feels his own conscience, a ghost of Marcus, screaming at him to stop. She feels him ignore it. She feels the cold, satisfying finality as he pulls the trigger.

​Kwannon ripped her consciousness out of his mind.

​She stumbled back, a gasp tearing from her lips. The psychic knife vanished. Cyclops and Laura were staring at her, waiting for a tactical report. But she could only stare at the broken man slumped in the chair, her own face a pale mask of horror.

​She had entered his mind expecting to find a simple monster. Instead, she had found the long, tragic, and meticulously detailed recipe for one. 

***

“I’ll write down the details before I forget,” Kwannon said as she stepped out of the room.

Cyclops gives her a nod, before turning towards Alex.

“You…you guys just…just RaPEd me” his voice crackeld as his head hung low.  “Am I…even still the same person?”

“You are.” Cyclops said matter of factly.

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Cyclops leans down, grabs his face by the chin and looks straight into his eyes “Because you still feel that hate.”

He lets go and turns to Laura while stepping out of the room. “Could you please help get him back to the med bay before meeting us at the briefing room.”

“Sure.”

***

Laura dumps Alex’s unconscious body on the bed unceremoniously. She cuffed his arms to the railings. As she cuffed his left arm, she noticed the tattoos distorted by the lightning scars and traced it.

It was a blend of Japanese traditional art, a full sleeve of swirling clouds and crashing waves done in stark black and grey. But woven into the storm were harder, sharper images. On his shoulder, the crest of the 75th Rangers peeked through a break in the clouds. Under his forearm, a badge number, 2070, was framed by the violent spray of a wave. And on his chest, over his heart, the lightning scar had torn through and blended with the branches of a cherry tree. Under it surrounded by the soft pink flowers, two smudged Kanjis that she could make out, names: Haru and Kana

Alex jolted a bit, and Laura quickly stepped back. Once she confirms that he is still unconscious, she goes back to make sure that the cuffs were secured before stepping out to meet with Scott and Kwannon to hear the report.

***

In an improvised briefing room, Laura and Scott read Kwannon's report in silence as she talks through it with them.

As she finishes explaining all the intel she had gathered through Alex, both the personal and the intel on Orchis, she asks the hard, important question. “What do you want to do with him? We don’t exactly have a cell or resources for POWs, we have families taking refuge with us that need it.”

“We could just release him, what’s one more soldier?” Laura said, shrugging her shoulders.

“So he could go back to Orchis? No.” 

“Then just erase his memories. About Orchis, his hate for mutants.”

“I… don’t think that would help without erasing his whole history. His whole reason for joining Orchis is not a simple ‘fuck mutants’ like most… It's a foundation, built on the memory of his parents dying, on his foster father's death, on the injustice he felt when our miracles weren't for his family. He’s a grieving boy who wished we had used our gifts to help the people he lost… His hatred, his history, they're fused. Erasing that… would be erasing Akio. He’ll just be a shell.”

Throughout the exchange, Cyclops was silent. His arms crossed as he was deep in thought. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him soon…Laura, can you watch over him meanwhile?”

“Sure”

Cyclops looks at Laura’s eyes for a moment. “You have permission to kill if he tries anything.”

Chapter Text

Darkness. Not a real darkness, but a warm, fluid, dreamless black. For a long time, that was all. Then, a sound. A faint, rhythmic pulse, like a distant heart. A light, golden and soft, bloomed behind her eyelids. Her first thought was a question without words. Where...?

Her second was a name. Ashley.

She tried to move, but her limbs were heavy, surrounded by something warm and thick. The world gave way with a soft, tearing sound, and cold, damp air hit her skin for the first time in... she didn't know how long. Her eyes fluttered open.

The ceiling was not the familiar white of a med bay. It was arched, grimy concrete, laced with dead wires. The air smelled of mildew, and... cooked food.

And then she saw her. Ashley. Standing over her, a rifle slung over her shoulder, her eyes full of a fierce, possessive relief that looked nothing like the gentle joy Alice remembered.

“Tempest” Ashley said as she hugged her. It  was fierce, possessive, and coated Ashley's jacket in the gooey, orange liquid from the cocoon. 

"Ashley?" Alice asked, still dazed. She started to hug her back, but her own hands felt wrong against Ashley's jacket. It was hard, smooth, and cold. She pulled away, looking down at her own arms in horror. They weren't skin. They were polished black obsidian.

“What the fuck happened to me?”

“I think it's a second mutation. I found your cocoon surrounded by a pool of blood.” Ashley bends down to Alice who was still sitting in her cocoon and taps her chest, the metal ringing in Alice’s ear. “Here, you were shot here. By those fucking humans that ruined our paradise.”

Alice wasn’t listening as she was still focused on her skin. She took a deep breath as she remembered her training from her time at the mansion. She meditated and relaxed her mind. As she does, the polished black obsidian recedes exposing her natural skin.

“Here” Ashley said as she wrapped a large towel over Alice and helped her up.

***

At the kitchen

After giving her clothes, Ashley showed Alice to the kitchen to feed her. The kitchen was tucked away at the corner of the station, next to the washroom. The set up was a portable stove, a hole on the wall made it so the sink was accessible. The lights flicker.

“What do you want to eat? Could make your favourite spaghetti?” Ashley asked as she looked through the shelf full of different dried and canned foods.

“Sure, I haven't eaten in 6 months. I miss your spaghetti.” she said as she took a seat at the kitchen island.

Ashley smiled, and held a pot up “One Ashley spaghetti coming right up!”

They chuckled a bit as Ashley started cooking. 

“So hey...where did all this come from?” Alice asked.

Ashley was quiet for a moment, stirring the pasta in the pot: After krakoa...i was running with your cacoon from brazil to cali then to here in new york. I kinda just picked up the strays along the way.”

“Look at you ash. a leader of a community.” Alice said, a hint of pride in her voice

Ashley chuckled, “I try my best.”

“So how do you manage it? must be hard with all these people gathered here.” 

“Ah...well” Ashley paused and looked to the ceiling for an answer “we do some resource reallocation work...and some mutants here have been a real help. like Eve, i'll introduce you. She can grow trees anywhere, makes it easier to breathe down here.”

Alice got up and walked around the island to stand behind Ashley “can't wait. but really ash..."resource reallocation work"? if you're stealing to help our kind then at least come up with something better."

Ashley laughed, “yea you're right.”

Alice came up behind her and hugged Ashley as she stirred the pot. “You know I wont judge you...you and these people you helped…lost after Krakoa. taking care of them, and me in the cocoon...must have been hard." she kissed ashley on the cheek "thank you"

Ashley smirks “it's nothing…” she turns and break from the hug, using her spoon to point at the vacant seat. “Now get back to your seat. spagetthi done. plate or straight from the pot?” 

“straight.”

Ashley put the pot down in the middle of the island and ate together straight from the pot. 

Alice takes huge slurps, smearing spaghetti sauce all around her mouth “ah...remind me of the old days ... .before it all went to shit.”

Ashley smiles and wipes the mess around Alice's mouth with her thumb and licks it clean. “the old days...the school, Krakoa, when we were safe…”

“Yeah..” Alice said as she mindlessly twirls some spaghetti. Lost in nostalgia.

Just then the sound of a chair being pushed back snaps her out of it. Ashley stood straight and grabbed Alice's hand, pulling her “follow me topside.”

***

Night time, on the streets of New York, Ashley grabbed Alice close by her waist and flew her up onto a nearby roof. 

They stood on the edge as people went home on a cold January night.

"What do you see, Tempest?"

"Uh... people walking around... I don't know." Alice shrugs her shoulder and turned to Ashley

"Exactly. Humans. Living their lives without a care in the world. They sleep at night without wondering if a Sentinel will level their home. They walk down the street without a mob forming." Her gaze hardens, locking onto Alice's. "We gave them their space. We went to an island at the edge of the world and asked for one thing, to be left alone. And they answered with sentinels."

She turns back to the city, her voice a low, furious growl. "Their hypocrisy is not 'annoying,' Tempest. It is an insult. It is a declaration that we are not allowed to exist anywhere on this planet. So I've decided. The debate is over. We stop giving them their space. We start taking."

Alice chuckles “what? You want to make a mutant Chinatown?”

“heh, yeah...something like that.” She points to a block in the distance, a concrete jungle of apartments and shops. "We will carve out a new nation for ourselves right here, in their heartland. Not an island they can forget about, but a fortress they have to look at every single day. We start with that block. We secure it. We make it ours. Then the next. Then the whole damn city if we have to. A 'mutant china town,' as you put it, but with walls of lightning and steel."

She finally turns back to Alice, her eyes burning with a zealot's fire. “So? You in?”

Alice’s breath caught for a second. The cheerful, optimistic girl she had grown up with was gone. In her place was a commander. And Alice found she didn't mind at all. A wide, predatory smile spread across her face. "Of course. When do we start?"

They both stood there smiling for a moment before Ashley hugs her, burying her face in the crook of Alice’s neck. “I miss you”

“Me too Ash” Alice hugs back.

They spent the night on the rooftop, until the sunrises, discussing plans, reminiscing and Ashley telling stories of her 6 month adventure while Alice was cocooned.

As they talked, Alice always made sure to pay attention to Ashley’s face. Her smile was as radiant as it used to be as she discussed her plans and told her of her journey from Brazil. She was mesmerized.

Chapter Text

January 7th, 2024

A day after the interrogation, Alex woke up to the familiar white light and ceiling. He sat up to find Laura lounging on a nearby sofa scrolling her phone. She looks up, and a predatory smile forms. 

She stood up, her green eyes looking straight into Alex’s brown as she made her way and stood at the foot of the bed for a moment. Then she raised her hand.  A wave. “Ni Hao” she threw back his insult at him.

The room was silent for what seems to be forever. Only the hum of machinery in the room and the clock can be heard. Before it was shattered by a laugh. 

Alex laughed, his eyes tearing up, his stomach hurting. “Ni-Nice one…Ni hao…”

Laura looked at Alex as if she was seeing a man that needed a mental institution. Laura's predatory smile faltered, replaced by a look of genuine confusion. Did Kwannon break him? she thought.

As his laugh subsides, Alex looks Laura up and down, recognizing the yellow and black suit. “Hey, uh…wolverina-”

Snikt “It's wolverine” she growled.

“Okay, wolverine…it's a mouthful isn't it. Is wolvie okay?” Laura doesn’t say anything. Her claws remain unseethed. Green eyes boring into Alex's. A threat. “That’s a no, I'm guessing.”

He raises his arm and jiggles the cuffs. “You mind? I need to go to the bathroom”

Laura considers for a moment, before uncuffing him. “Follow me”

As they walk through the corridors, Alex once again tries to map the place in his head. 

The right turn there’s a dead end. He turns his head to the windows on the left along the corridors. Snow ... .forests of spruce and fir. mountain ranges. He checked his watch . early afternoon and the sun... it’s pale… pretty low in the southern sky. 

I’d seen a sun like that once during a cold weather training exercise, he thought. This isn't Minnesota or Montana. This is the high latitudes.

As he processed this, he continued to test Laura. “You just gonna turn your back and leave me uncuffed?”

Laura stops and turns, a smirk on her face. Snikt. “And what are you gonna do. You’re in the middle of nowhere, 100s of miles from the nearest town, surrounded by mutants with powers.”

Alex chuckles. “Noted.”

Hundreds of miles from the nearest town, His mind raced, putting the final pieces together. High latitudes. Remote. Hundreds of miles from anywhere. could be Canada, but that's a diplomatic risk. They’re an American organization. safer to stay on home soil. And Alaska... it's littered with abandoned Cold War listening posts and airfields just like this one. Perfect place to hide a jet…Definitely Alaska.

Alex goes into the bathroom and relieves himself. He closes his eyes as he feels the euphoric release of a piss that’s been inside of him for 6 months. He looks down. Holy fuck…that does not look like a good color.

At the sink, as he washes his hands and face, he looks at the mirror, and for the first time he finally sees himself. 

His eyes were red. Heavy eyebags. His beard had grown down his neck. His hair, shoulder length. 

Then he looks to his upper body in the mirror. He touches the center of his scar. And traces it down both ends of his hands. Looking at the now distorted sleeve tattoo on his left arm. He flinches at each touch, the scar a sensitive collection of nerves and tissues.

Both arms are now on the sink to support him as he leans into it. His head hung, the only view was the running sink water and his damp hair dripping. 

He closes his eyes and does his box breathing, his old tick of twirling his index finger around his thumbnail returning. But his heartbeat continues to hammer in his chest. 

What now…they won’t kill me. Not their style. Erase my memory? Either that or they just let me go…unlikely. 

***

As Laura waits outside the bathroom, she could hear the loud hearth beat coming from Alex. She checks the time. It's been 10 minutes…. she goes into the bathroom to find Alex shirtless leaning on the sink. 

Hearing her footsteps, Alex looks up and at her through the mirror, smirking “Didn’t want to miss the show huh?”

Laura scoffs “It’s been 10 minutes, hurry up” she said as she left the bathroom.

Alex puts his T-shirt on and follows her out.

***

Back at the med bay, Laura cuffed his left hand back to the railings and brought a tray of food for him from the canteen, putting it on the overbed table.

She didn't sit, instead leaning against the opposite wall with her arms crossed, her eyes never leaving him, watching as Alex pokes and turns his food. 

“You guys vegetarian?” He asked.

Just then Cyclops comes in, pulls a chair and takes a seat to his right , putting his tray down with a heavy thud. Intently staring at Alex behind his visor.

“glob is vegetarian, so while he’s the chef, we’re all vegetarian”

Alex doesn’t reply, simply stares at Cyclops. 

Cyclops takes a deep breath and sighs. “Tell me Alex, I'm sure they taught you this at rangers and orchis. what should i do to a captured enemy once i already have their intel. hm?”

Alex's face remains a stoic mask. Silent. But Laura could sense it. The loud heartbeat. His left index finger twirling around his thumbnail under the table.

“I’m sure at rangers they tell you the enemy is a pow, but see...we don't have cells here. and frankly, not enough resources.”

Laura just stares at cyclops, unsure of where he's going.

“So tell me, at orchis, did you give those captured mutants a chance? or did your people torture and experiment on them?”

There was a moment of heavy silence. Finally Alex spoke with a smirk “ how about you stop playing mind games and decide already. shit like this is wasting both our time. Here let me make it easier for you.” Alex said as he took out a coin. “tails and your blade here kill me, and head…I get to leave. So? you up for gambling?”

Cyclops says nothing. His jaw tight as he stares at Alex.

Alex then flips the coin. Laura watches as it twirls in the air. Both men maintain eye contact.

Ding. The coin landed on the table. Alex looks and smirks. “My lucky day. looking forward to seeing your jet. never flew private before.”

Cyclops' mouth remains flat. His jaw was tight. His expression is a mystery behind the visor. He wasn’t amused. Finally he stood up and grabbed his tray. “you know your orders laura.” He said as he left. 

The table was silent for a while. 

Laura finally breaks the silence as she reaches out for the coin on the table and takes a look at it. After doing so she just smirks and tossed it back to him. 

“lucky you huh.”

Alex with a dry smile as he catches it “yeah...lucky me.” . 

***

After his meal, Alex stood up. His left arm still cuffed to the bed. He looks out the window behind the bed and down to see Kwannon training 4 kids with their powers at the base’s backyard. 2 visibly mutated. One has green skin, the other…blue. 

Alex’s eyes fixated on the blue kid. reminding him of what he did. 

Just then he felt a presence beside him. Laura. 

“Cute huh?”

“sure…isn’t it dangerous for them?” Alex asked as he turned to Laura.

Laura’s eyes remained on the kids training. “It’s the life we live now…without Krakoa…those kids are gonna need to know how to defend themselves.”

Alex was silent as he turned back to look at the group of kids.

“They don’t look older than 12”

“They’re about that age.” 

“How…do you know they’ll only use it to defend themselves.”

Laura scoffs, and finally turns to Alex, but her voice remains steady. “That’s all you see. Not people, just dangerous…weapons”

Alex’s brows furrowed. “And all you see are innocents. As if you know their future.”

“You don’t know either. So why do you assume the worst for us? Do you look at a human kid training in martial arts and think they’ll use it to hurt others? This is no different. Its our martial arts.”

“Well last I check our martial arts can be countered barehanded,” he points out the window “Those kids…those kids are gonna require…a device if they go rogue”

Laura crosses her arms. “For what?. Say it.”

Alex looks straight in her eyes. Meeting her challenge. “Control”

They were both silent for a moment. Staring at each other. Waiting for the other side to continue the argument. But neither did. Laura simply made her way to the door.

Before she exits “Knock 3 times if you need something. I’ll hear it” Then she closes it and locks the door.

Alex remains standing by the window. Eyes returning to the kids.

Chapter Text

In the corner of a subway station, under the flickering lights, Ashley, Alice and a few of her commanders study the map of New York. Looking at every possible neigbourhood to start their new nation. 

Ashley points to an island next to the heart of Manhattan, and directly across the river from the United Nations Headquarters. “Here” she said “one subway stop and one bridge to Queens, two choke points we can easily defend. The aerial tramway to Manhattan can be used to transport supplies.”

“Also has natural moat on both sides,” Reader added.

“Me and Boulder can lead a squad to  secure the generator facilities at the hospitals and university.” Alice added. “Reader, can you lead a small team to cut the power supply coming from the Con Edison grid?”

“Sure”

Ashley points to the river surrounding the island. “Eve, I need you to build a wall around the islands. Can you do that with your plants?”

“Sure, I can even grow mangrove trees to filter the water into fresh water, as well as fruits and vegetables.”

“Nice!” Alice exclaimed.

“Good…so we’ll need to go on raids for fuel, proteins and weapons…the medicines at the hospital will eventually run out or expire as well. The 2 choke points can also be a prison for us. The humans would only have to guard the bridge and the subway station on their side.” Ashley said, hands on her chin, thinking through the logistics.

“I could electrocute the water and catch fishes that way?” Alice offered.

“The fish in the river are harmful to eat due to water contamination. Unless we have a mutant with healing powers, that's a no go” Reader said.

Eve raises her hand “umm…I could also make a plant bridge or tunnel so we wouldn't need the manmade bridge or subway.”

Ashley looks up and smirks. “You are really flexible aren't you…Make sure to lay low when this starts. You’re our lifeline.”

“Sure”

“Okay” Ashley claps her hand to get everyone’s attention. “You all know your missions. Tempest, can you stay for a bit”

After everyone has left, Ashley and Alice have a private talk. 

“What's up?” Alice asked.

Ashley took out a simple mask that would cover the nose and mouth. It was made of titanium, coloured in gold and black. “Here…let me be the face of this. You wear this mask, keep your identity hidden so you can go inland and scout or recruit for us.”

Alice grabs it and admires the shiny polish before trying it on. “Thanks…It fits perfectly”

Ashley reaches up and cups her face. “Of course…How could it not? I've spent years memorizing every line of this face. Every last one."

She looks directly into Alice's eyes, a flicker of something possessive and fierce behind her smile.

"It's my favorite territory."

***

10th January, Day 1:

12:02, Sunday.

“Mom I’m leaving now”

“Don’t forget your dinner money Matt” She shouted from the kitchen.

“Yup got it. Bye”

Matt walks along the main street towards his friend's house when the traffic lights cut off, resulting in a pile up. He looks around and finds that all electricity has been cut. 

The street filled with the sound of blaring alarms from the car. Matt rushed over to help and as he helped pull a person out of the wreckage, he noticed a woman, floating high above, staring down at them and for a moment, a flicker of something crossed her face. It wasn't anger. It was a cold, clinical pity. Her mouth curved into a small, sad frown that held no warmth, and her eyes softened in a way that felt more insulting than any glare.

Then came a voice. Not from the street, but from the center of his mind. A young woman's voice, cold and absolute.

“Hello.” Her voice booms inside. “This is no speech. I’m giving human residents of this island 1 week. Leave the island. To my fellow mutants. If you feel like you’ve had enough of these humans ruining your life. Join me. That's all.”

Matt stumbled back, falling to the ground. Before he could even process the violation, a deep rumbling shook the building. He looked towards the coast, his eyes wide with terror as the view of Manhattan was slowly blocked by massive, thorny vines, thick as subway cars, erupting from the water, climbing the sides of the island and arching over it, weaving themselves into a dense, green cage with one source of light at the top.

Matt rushed home to find his mom watching the TV. The breaking news displaying the woman he saw. She grabbed its lens, looking straight into it. Her face, cold and apathetic, the symbol of the movement. “Mutants, join us as we make New Krakoa” she announced, before flying back down, the camera following her movement for a moment. The words chilled him to the bone. This wasn't a random attack. It was a declaration of war. An invasion.

“Pack up Matt. We have to leave now.” His mom said as she made her way to her room to grab her luggage.

Matt stood there for a moment before following his mom to her room. “For what? We have one week. The Avengers will probably handle it.”

His mom dropped her things in a tired breath and looked at him with a glare. “I'm not taking any chances Matt. Pack. Up. Besides, the building generator will run out in a few days.”

“Okay, Okay”

After a few hours of packing, both of them made their way to the subway station after saying goodbye to their neigbour who was betting on the likes of the Avengers. 

As they made their way, they enjoyed the view of various cars abandoned on the road as traffic rules were no longer enforceable without electricity. 

The subway station was flooded with a sea of people. The line goes around the west street and the main road. 

***

12th January, Day 2:

Alice and Ashley stood atop a tramway tower, looking down on the long lines of humans slowly leaving the island through the bridge or the subway. 

“Those military checkpoints on the bridge and subway station on their side are really slowing this down,” Ashley said. Biting her lip. Her frown created deep creases above her nose. 

“Yup…also, we counted. There’s about 300 people at the hospitals that would need assistance to leave the island, and about 200 elderly.” Alice reported.

“Thank you.” Ashley was silent for a moment. Simply looking down on the view below. “Get a squad for you and Boulder to keep the abled humans in their lines. Then tell Eve to build a bridge towards Andrew Haswell Park…let’s make a show of this”

“Heh, what good is pr? We’re forcefully taking a whole island” Alice shrugged.

Ashley smirks. “It's a show Tempest, called politics. We’re showing them we are not the monsters they say we are. We’re showing compassion for your helpless. We’re showing we’re organized. We are benevolent. We gave a fair deadline…there’s bound to be some highly emotional and compassionate humans that feel deeply sorry for us mutants after Krakoa. It's about convincing their voters. When the President wants to send in sentinels, I want every news channel on the planet to be showing the face of a crying human mother who says, 'But the mutants my grandmother go, maybe they have a point.' We're not winning a debate, we're creating political cover for the cowards and reasonable doubt for everyone else. They are the ones who will scream 'overkill' when the Sentinels arrive. We are building a human shield, not with bodies, but with public opinion."

Alice chuckles and wraps her arm around Ashley’s shoulder. “Did you learn this during those 6 months? Or did you always have this side of you.”

“Maybe I learned it in the afterlife,” she smiles sadly.

Alice’s smile falters and kisses her cheek. “Are you…upset that I resurrected you?”

“No…I’m glad you gave me a second chance…and those few months on Krakoa were…magical. But I won’t be that naive girl from the mansion anymore Tempest.” She cups Alice’s face. “I’ll do whatever it takes…to protect you…us.”

Alice smiles. “Thanks…I’ll go tell Eve now.” she said as her skin turns obsidian and jumps down. 

An hour later, the news helicopter circling the island watched as thick vines sprout from the western side of Roosevelt Island, slowly extending towards Andrew Haswell Park. At the front, leading hundreds of mutants carrying elderly people and the sick was Ashley herself, carrying a sick elderly in her arms.

She looks up towards the camera and smiles.

***

13th January, Day 3:

Scott watches the news in the command room, the shot of Roosevelt island from high above, surrounded by giant thick walls of vines was being aired and sighs as he turns and rubs his temples.

“What do you want to do, Scott?” Kwannon asked.

“I’ve contacted Rogue’s X-men team in New Orleans. They said they will handle it, along with Storm who’s currently in New York.”

“And the Avengers?” Laura asked.

“I told them this is a mutant issue.”

Laura frowns and puts her hand on the table “Scott…you can’t keep doing this.”

Cyclops turns from the news feed, his expression is grim "This isn't a simple military problem, Laura. If it were, we would have leveled that island on day one. This is a rescue mission with two objectives, and they are in direct conflict with each other."

He gestures to the screen showing the chaos of the evacuation "Objective one is to get every one of those human civilians out of there safely. Objective two," his voice gets quieter, more intense, "is to get every one of those radicalized, terrified mutant kids out of Ashley's grip and back here, where we can help them. Not in a government black site. Not in a body bag."

He looks at her, his gaze unwavering behind the visor. "I am not trying to win a battle. I am trying to save everyone. And that is a much, much harder problem to solve. So yes, I told the Avengers to stand down, because we don't need a human led, part time government team to handle the issue. We need to show that this is not what the X-men stands for."

Kwannon was deep in thought, when she realised “How about Orchis?” 

“I don’t know. They haven’t made a move.”

***

“Director, the president is on the line” A young, mid 20s secretary spoke through the internal line.

A calm, measured female voice replied, “Put him through Emily” The speaker didn't look away from the viewport of the Forge, where Earth hung like a jewel in the vast darkness of space.

“Yes Ma’am”

The line switched. “Good afternoon Mr President"

An old, angry voice booms through the phone. On the other end of the line, a fist slammed down on a desk, the sound tiny and distorted. “Don’t you “good afternoon” me. Where the fuck is Orchis. We did not give you funding to sit on your ass while a terrorist group takes Roosevelt island!” 

A hand with perfectly manicured nails picked up a wine glass, swirling the red wine inside. The voice that replied remained perfectly calm. “I’m sorry sir, you must be mistaken. We have received no such funding from the US Government. You are free to send an audit of our accounts if you’d like.”

“Tch, don’t play smart with me. You know what I mean.”

There was a slow, deliberate sip. “I do, Mr President. I do. And now you have to trust me with the job.”

“So why aren’t you doing anything? Send a sentinel or something”

The figure in the chair finally turned from the window, a cold, thin smile on her lips. “Why would I do that? every news channel on the planet is broadcasting it live. Mutants building walls. Mutants oppressing humans. Mutants fighting each other. This isn't a problem for us, Mr President. This is a gift … That girl is doing more to turn the world against mutants in one week than we've accomplished in a year. Let them fight. Let the world watch. We'll be there to clean up the mess when they're done proving our point for us. Maintaining the perimeter so they stay on that island would be more beneficial”

The line was silent for a moment. 

“I trust you Moira. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Thank you Mr President. I won’t”

Beep Beep Beep

She set the glass down, the quiet click of the phone echoing in the silent command center.

***

15th January, Day 5:

Ashley floats above the island, watching the long lines of humans shuffling off the island slowly get shorter by the day. Suddenly she received a telepathic message from Reader.

“Ashley, 6 people just jumped into the river to swim to the other side. What do you want to do?”

Ashley frowns, her face that off annoyance. She took a deep breath and replied. “I’m flying there right now.”

She hovers above the 6 swimmers for a moment, observing as they struggle to swim in the cold river on a January. She sighs, annoyed, then dove to pull them out and to the other side one by one. 

As she pulls the first person, with her arms drenched in the cold dirty water, she expresses her dissatisfaction. “The deadline is a week. Trying to kill yourself on day 5 is just inefficient. Don't make us look unreasonable.”

Once on the other side, she doesn't gently lower the person to the ground, she just lets go from 7 feet above.

As the person lay on the ground, shivering, drenched in cold water, they thanked her. “umm...thank you.”

Ashley's face was apathetic, she just flew off to save the others. 

***

17th January, Day 7, 11:59pm:

The leaders of New Krakoa stood atop the support towers of the Queensboro Bridge, which passes directly over  the middle of Roosevelt Island. Watching as a few thousands humans are still lining up to exit. 

“At 12:00am, Eve, I want you to block the exits. Anyone not physically on the bridge or in the station will stay here.” Ashley orders.

“What? Why?” Eve asked. 

“They’re…Insurance. The government, Orchis or Avengers won’t attack us so long as there is potential human casualties.”

“So what? You want us to just round the humans up and put them in a camp?...I understand that…for this to work we need some moral compromises, but…” Reader looks to Alice, who looks back with a quizzical face, remembering the horror of what she was ordered to do to the Orchis soldier. “I…just let them go.”

Ashley looks to Reader. Her hand reached out to put a reassuring arm on her shoulder. “We won’t put them in camps. They can stay in their separate apartments…putting them in one place can make them start organizing…but they will work for us, no different than their 9 - 5…of course, the payment for their work is living.”

“So slavery?” Reader retorts.

“Is it slavery? Free food, no rent, water, and all they have to do is work for us. No different than getting paid to pay for those things….think of it as auto withdrawal from their payment.”

Reader was still hesitant, but reluctantly agreed. “...Fine”

“Tempest…you and Boulder, lead a team to round up those that remained in their apartments, we need a headcount of the number of humans.”

“Okay…what about you?” Boulder asked.

“Me?” she opens her arms to the side. A glimpse of the old Ashley slipping out as she smiles. In her best Megamind impersonation. “PRESENTATION!”

The group was silent for a moment, before they cracked into laughter. Ashley’s face was as red as Alice’s hair. Alice pulls her in a side hug as she clears her throat. “Ehem…yea, I’ll be speaking to the media, handling the PR side.”

With that the group disbanded to do their jobs.

***

18th January, Day 8, 1:08 am:

Alice continues to round up the humans who have decided to remain in their apartments. 

She rides the elevator barely running on generators with a few mutants. A few mutants on patrol who were in the building reported that there was a resident that refuses to comply. 

She knocks on the old wooden apartment door of 16/C. She was surprised when an old lady appeared and opened the door. She was short, her hair was white as snow and her wrinkles went deep into her skin. 

“How can I help you dear?” The old woman asked.

Alice frowned. “Why didn’t you leave on day 2?”

The old woman chuckles. Then invites Alice in. “This is my house girl. I’ve been here since before you were born. I’ll be damned if you took this from me.”

The apartment walls have slightly faded, with a paint job that hasn't been updated in a decade. Dozens of framed photos on every surface of the house’s walls, mantelpiece, and every available surface.. Alice observed the pictures as she walked through,  a picture of her husband in his youth, her children's school pictures, wedding photos, awkward teenage photos of her now-grown kids, and recent photos of her grandchildren.

It was like walking into a time capsule. 

As they rounded the corner and into the dining room, Alice saw a boy she recognised from the ranks enjoying some cookies.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, arms crossed.

“I-I was…”the boy tries to reply, but the old lady cuts him off.

“ Oh leave him alone, he's just a child. And he was hungry. Whatever flag you're flying today, children still get hungry."

Alice steps closer to the old lady “He is an occupying soldier. He is not your concern."

The old lady looks Alice up and down, her gaze piercing and unafraid, seeming to look right through the mask."A hungry child in my neighborhood has been my concern for fifty years, long before you got here, and it'll be my concern long after you're gone." She then offers a cookie in Alice's direction. "You look like you could use some food yourself. You're just a child, too, under all that armor."

Alice is completely disarmed. She came expecting a fight, a confrontation, or a plea for mercy. She did not expect this quiet, unshakable, and defiant kindness from an elderly.

Unsure of how to proceed, Alice took the mask off and ate the cookie, asking. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

Chapter Text

January 8th, 8:00am.

In the briefing room, the X-Men have gathered to discuss their new baggage. Alex. The room was silent. Only the hum of the heater, and the sound of electronics can be heard as the X-Men stood around a round table.

Beast cleared his throat “would anyone like to share their thoughts?” 

Laura puts her hand on the table “he's physically fine, and he's still annoying. let just wipe his mind of this base location and drop him off in cali or something.” Her mind goes back to his final words to her. control “Not like he can be of use to us.”

“Not totally useless,” Kwannon said. “His hatred isn't ideological, it's grief driven. He's asking why we didn't do anything for his family, not claiming humans are superior...if we could turn him to our side, it could be advantageous.”

Quentin scoffs and crosses his arms “So what? Trauma doesn't excuse war crimes. Mindwipe him and dump him. How many of us has he killed working for Orchis?"

“2,” Kwannon said. Her voice calm but firm. “he murdered a surrendering mutant that led a PMC, and Alice."

“Thats 2 more than enough” Quentin retorts

“A mutant leader of a PMC backed by Russia in Ukraine and Alice during active combat. I'm not saying he's a saint, but neither are we, and kills are expected in active combat.” Kwannon said.

Cyclops was deep in thought, then spoke "A trauma driven operative might be reachable. If we can turn him, we get ongoing Orchis intelligence. We've worked with Magneto after he's killed thousands. Apocalypse after genocidal schemes. Half our Quiet Council were former villains."

"Yeah, but they were our people. This guy's human." Quentin said.

Everyone turned to Quentin. A quiet disapproving look on their face.

Juggernaut clears his throat to break through the silence. "Did you forget I'm human and a former villain?"  

“Let’s not be hypocrites…” Beast said, His voice was calm, not a lecture. A reminder.

"We're housing refugees. Every day we keep him costs us resources." Laura said

The room was silent again. Everyone weighing the option between wasting time and resources trying to convert a racist so he could be a mole or let him go.

Finally Cyclops stood straight "Give it 10 days. If he shows genuine change, we recruit him. If not, mindwipe and release with a psychic link Kwannon can maintain. Either way, recruited spy or released asset, he can give us more intel.”

***

January 8th, 12:18pm.

Alex walks through the dull grey metallic hallway towards the canteen, with Laura following behind him.

Alex turns his head sideways as he walks to look at Laura “You know, when you told me I would have more freedom to roam around the public areas, I thought I can do it without someone tailing me all the time” 

Laura smirks “Believe me, this is more for your safety than anything else”

Alex raised his right brows, then turned to look ahead again, choosing to ignore it. The bustling and noise of the canteen can be heard.

As Alex walks through the door into the canteen, the noise stops. All eyes turn towards him as the mutant refugees now has a face they can direct their anger to. Most glared at him, some threw slurs and insults as he pass.

Alex’s face remained a neutral mask, but his eyes were constantly scanning the room, ready for any sudden movement.

As he walks towards a table at the edge of the canteen after getting his food, he turns to Laura again with a smile, who was still with him. “I feel like a celebrity”

Laura’s face remained neutral. “Shut up and keep moving”.

They sat at a table next to where some of the X-men were having lunch. Juggernaut and Magik gobbling their food, while Kwannon and Cyclops were having a quiet conversation.

Laura sits across from Alex. They remained silent as they ate their lunch.

Suddenly, the news channel on the TV shifts to Storm as she holds a press conference regarding the recent explosion at a nuclear reactor that killed 3 engineers.

All eyes turned to the TV waiting with anticipation as Storm began speaking.

(See Storm 2024 Issue 1) “The manifestation of mutant abilities, a coming of age for our kind…can be such a beautiful sight to behold, a treasured experience. But it can also be a punishing one. Cruel to both wielder, loved ones and those we least expect. It saddens me greatly that the tragic events in Oklahoma city…”

The sound of the TV became a background noise as everyone in the canteen looked down in sadness. 

again…these mutants… Alex thought as his grip tightens around his spoon.

Laura watches Alex, she can hear his heartbeat, it is drumming fast. It was angry. Yet the face of the man whose heart is currently full of hate was that of calm and neutral.

Suddenly, she heard his voice under his breath.

“It's always just an accident huh.” He says as he continues to eat.

Scott, looked towards Alex having heard it too “Because it is.”

Alex dismissed him as he continued to eat “uh huh.”

Scott gets up from his table and walks towards Alex and stands next to him. Looking down. “what would you call it then if not an accident.”

Alex put his spoon down and stood up himself, looking Scott in his eyes, not intimidated despite Scott towering over his 5 '10 height.

“How about murder”

“There was no intent.”

Alex smiles. There it is. The cop-out. 'I couldn't control it' - the universal mutant defense for collateral damage."

Scott doesn’t reply, just staring, with a clenched jaw and curled fist.

Alex held his arms up as if he was holding a machine gun, and aimed at Scott. “Tutututu…” Laura stifles a laugh as she watches Alex. Alex's arms suddenly flare out, swinging across the room from side to side “Oh no!” He exclaims as if he was putting on the best acting performance of his life. “I couldn't handle the recoil, tututut, oh no!...all the people are dead now. What a shame…oh well, just an accident”

His face returns to a mask of cold neutrality. "See? What a joke."

Scott was silent for a moment. He doesn't get angry. He sounds profoundly tired, as if explaining a terrible, obvious truth to a child. "You want to talk about jokes? Here's one. When we live among you, you hunt us for being different. When we live apart, you hunt us for being separate. We try to be heroes, and you build machines to slaughter us by the million. We build a paradise for ourselves to live in peace, and you call it a threat and burn it to the ground."

He finally looks Alex dead in the eye.

"There is no 'right' way for us to exist that your people will ever accept. The only thing you've ever wanted from us is to be gone."

Alex scoffs “You call that peace? You gathered the most powerful beings on the planet onto one island, declared yourselves gods, true inheritors of earth and expected humanity to just... what? Trust you? You didn't end the war; you just started an arms race. Your 'paradise' gave us a reason to build bigger and better Sentinels. You gave groups like Orchis the justification they always dreamed of. You provoked this.” He puts a finger on Scott

“You talk about mutant persecution, but what were you doing? Holding life saving medicine hostage for political gain. Granting diplomatic immunity to terrorists who murder humans on foreign soil. You're not better than the humans who hated you; you just got better at leveraging power. And then there's resurrection. You can conquer death itself, but only for yourselves.” Alex puts his hands down as he looks Scott in the eye.

“My father....my father, Marcus Hayes, died protecting one of your own. He was a hero. You have the power to undo that single, specific injustice, and you refuse. Why? Because he's human…Your entire nation is built on the premise that his life, that all human lives, are worth less than yours. Don't talk to me about peace. You're just building a better class of tombstone for the rest of us."

Scott was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The arms race began the day Bolivar Trask designed the first Sentinel, before I was even born. We didn't provoke a war; we were born into one that was already being waged against us. We were being hunted, cataloged, and exterminated. We didn't start this. We just decided to stop losing.

The medicines? The extradition? That's not hypocrisy; that's sovereignty. It's the language of power that humanity taught us. It's the only language they've ever respected. We tried being a school. We tried being heroes. And our reward was Genosha, a graveyard of sixteen million mutants. We will never be that weak again." He puts a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder

“As for your father... I grieve for your loss. He was a better man than most. But you're asking us to make an impossible choice. The Resurrection Protocols are the core of our national security. If we use them on humans, who decides which ones are worthy? If that technology is ever captured or compromised, it will be turned into a weapon to ensure our final extinction. I cannot… will not sacrifice the future of my entire species, even to right a terrible wrong. It is a price we have to pay to survive. It's a price you could never understand."

Alex brushed Scott’s hand off his shoulder, his voice a little louder “Don't you bring up genosha, I read the files, your fellow mutant Cassandra Nova pulled the trigger. It was a tragedy, but it wasn’t our fault. You keep repeating a convenient a lie as propaganda for your own cause” 

Scott raised his voice too as he placed a finger on Alex’s chest “Don't talk to me about who pulled the trigger when you're the one who built the gun. You spent fifty years designing a weapon to point at our heads and now you want to lecture us on liability? Genosha was not an accident; it was a promise you made to us for decades, finally fulfilled."

By now, the whole canteen was watching the heated debate. No one made a noise as Alex’s and Scott’s loud voices echoed through the canteen.

“It’s called an M.A.D. Some of your kind can end the planet if they so wish. You yourself can level a block with your eyes.”

Scott puts his finger down, his voice a little lower now. “I was born with this power…I didn't ask for it. I have dedicated my entire life, every single day, to controlling it and using it to protect people. Both human and mutant. You built a machine with only one programmed purpose: our extermination. There is a fundamental difference between a person born with the potential for great power, and a machine built with the certainty of genocide."

“And how many people had to die before you learnt to control it?” Alex points to Scott. “You. What’s the cost of your existence?”

Scott was silent for a moment, before his head hung low. “More than you could ever know.” He looks back up.  “And unlike the people you fight for, I don't see them as acceptable losses. I see them as failures I have to live with every day.”

“Pretty words. You had the chance to right those failures, and you refused. tell that to a nine year old who had to bury his parents” 

“And how many of our own do you think we had to bury.”

"Yeah. And how many more accidents do we have to watch out for?...there was a cure you know or a device made to prevent this.”

“We have no need for a cure, Alex. Our mutations are not diseases.”

Alex lets out a laugh, as he steps back and looks at the x men currently present. Kwannon, magik, Laura, Scott, Quentin. He recalls previous X-men members he saw on the TV, Emma Frost, Kitty, Logan, Rogue, Gambit, Jean, Polaris and more…

Alex’s laugh subsides “look at you...it's so easy for you to say that huh? you look just like the rest of us, heck you look like models, with cool and powerful abilities...how about mutants like glob? or how about that mutant who just killed 3 people? Are their mutations “gifts” ?"

The canteen was silent again as Alex and Scott had a staring contest.

Finally Laura stood up and wedged herself between the two men, pushing them apart “ENOUGH!…you both carry scars… maybe it’s time to stop trading wounds…it feels like you’re both stuck in this loop of pain, blame, and anger. No one’s really listening, no one's willing to compromise… You think you’re so different. But in the end, you’re both just people trying to survive”

Both men stood still silently, before going back to their table to finish their meal in silence. The whole canteen was.

***

The canteen was empty now, the silence a stark contrast to the shouting that had filled it just an hour ago. Scott was in the command room, the screens before him glowing with data. He had pulled up the files from the attack on Krakoa, cross referencing casualty reports, but his eyes kept returning to a different file, one he had accessed from a classified government database.

Marcus Hayes. Badge Number: 2070. Cause of Death: Hostile engagement with a mutant. Location: Chicago

Scott rubbed his temples. He felt a profound, aching weariness that had nothing to do with the physical battle.

Beast entered, a silent, furry shadow. He stood next to Scott, his voice a low rumble. "He got to you, didn't he, Scott?"

Scott sighed, a long, tired breath. "He's terrifying. Not because of his hatred, but because of how logical he is about it. The hypocrisy, the way we use our miracles to leverage power... it's all true."

"It's a truth with a great deal of convenient omissions," Beast rumbled. "He sees our sovereignty as arrogance, our self-defense as provocation. He blames our existence for the guns his people built to kill us."

"But he doesn't have to live with the cost," Scott said, his voice quiet. He looked at the file on Marcus Hayes. "He had a father, a hero who died for us, and we had the power to bring him, people like him back... and we didn’t."

Beast was silent for a long moment. He put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "That is the fundamental difference, my friend. He sees a specific injustice and blames our whole race for it. You see a thousand injustices and must bear the weight of them all."

Scott didn't reply. He just stared at the name on the screen, a face he would never know, and felt the immense, lonely weight of a leader who had to make a choice between one man's life and the survival of an entire species.

***

January 8th, 03:26pm.

Alex sat on a bench behind the outpost. It was the backyard where the kids usually play or train.

He looks up to the sky as he plays with the fog that comes out of his mouth in the cold Alaskan winter. God I need a smoke he thought as he recalls his heated debate with Scott. 

Just then a ball hit the side of his face and landed on his lap.

A little boy, one of the kids he saw training with Kwannon, came running up to him. “sorry mister”

Alex handed the ball back to the chubby boy. “Here kid.”

“Thanks…” the boy turned and was about to leave before turning back to Alex “are you the bad guy mister?”

Alex chuckles “heh...is that what the X-men tells you?

“no,” the boy shook his head. “my mommy and daddy did.”

Alex was quiet for a moment, looking at the boy before him “...maybe they're right.”

Alex then looks to the other kids in the backyard to see that they were playing soccer with their powers.

“Don't you think it's dangerous? one of you could get hurt using your powers like that.”

The boy waves him off “nah, it’s okay mister. Ms Psylocke trained us. We're being careful.”

Alex chuckles “If you say so...and hey, stop calling me mister will you? Just call me Alex.

“Okay! I’m Billy....do you want to join us?

“Me? nah...I wouldnt keep up with your powers and energy. you kids go ahead…and hey, watch your powers alright? Don’t lose control.”

“Alright....” Billy was about to leave but stopped in his tracks to look Alex up and down. “You're not a bad guy Alex.”

Alex stares at him. “....If you say so kid.”

“A bad guy wouldn't be concerned about us. You're just like Ms Psylocke. always reminding us to be careful…and she's not a bad guy.” Billy says as he turns to leave.

Sorry kid, but me and her are probably telling you to be careful for different reasons. She's worried about you getting hurt. I'm worried about who you might hurt. Alex thought as he watched Billy run back to his friends.

Suddenly Laura sits beside him having heard everything from a distance.

She mimicked Billy’s voice with a smirk “you're not a bad guy mister.”

Alex chuckles “fuck off.”

They were silent for a moment, watching the kids play.

Laura broke the silence. “youre not wrong alex”

“Huh?” Alex turns to Laura.

Laura looks him in the eyes. “I can understand why you would be weary of us...given your history, Scott wasn’t wrong either…” she paused as she pointed her chin towards the kids playing. “But...maybe you need to take the blindfold off huh?...for every Apocalypse...there's thousands...millions just like Billy there…they don’t need control, they need guidance”

Alex was silent. He didn’t say anything. He just let the words hang in the air. Not acknowledging, nor is he denying. 

After a while, Alex turned to Laura "So? When are you letting me go?" He asked

"We're still undecided."

"Right. Well, don't expect a tearful conversion speech just because your kids are polite."