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*****
The government's new superhero team—the Guardians!
Are they guardians of the state, or guardians of the people?
The Purification Serum! A cure for the mutant future!
Staring at the day's headlines, Erik slapped the newspaper down on his desk with a sharp bang.
Guardians? He neither cared nor minded. But that so-called Purification Serum—utter nonsense!
Cure mutants?
What disease did mutants supposedly have?
A disease called superpowers?
Damn it! This is no illness at all!
Cursing in his heart, Erik felt a surge of white-hot anger.
An injection meant surrendering one's powers, accepting the claim that "mutant" was merely a special sickness—that mutants were a community of patients.
Damn them—do they not understand that their abilities are a gift from above?
He growled under his breath, agitated.
No—he would never acknowledge any "cure," and he would never accept the sickbed label being forced upon them.
But what now?
If this were the old Brotherhood days, they could have made a scene. Now they were a company. If they stirred up trouble, Victor and the others would cope, but what about the many mutants who depended on FutureTech?
Their hard-won stability would collapse back into the mire.
No—rash action was out of the question.
But the world needed to hear the mutants' side. They had to raise their voices.
Of course, against every protest, support would also rise.
That much he knew for certain.
Among mutants were those whose bodies had warped, those tormented by powers they could not control—people who would eagerly choose to be "cured," because their abilities had cost them a normal life.
That portion of the mutant community would surely opt for Purification—opt for "healing."
The thought pained Erik, but there was nothing he could do.
He could not deny them that choice. All he could do was tell every mutant—and the entire world—that mutants were not diseased.
No sooner had the thought formed than his phone rang.
He glanced at the number and couldn't help smiling. "Knew he'd call."
"Charles."
"It's me."
Charles answered, then sighed softly.
"You've seen the news—the Purification Serum."
"Mm." Erik grunted, then couldn't help asking, "How do you plan to handle it?"
"Aren't you thinking the same thing I am? Or put differently—isn't this the only way that doesn't shatter our current lives?"
Charles countered gently, a thread of hope in his tone.
Erik gave a wry smile as an idea surfaced.
"You… if you used your powers to influence them—"
"Erik! You know as well as I do: once some lines are crossed, there's no stopping what follows."
The brothers fell silent for several seconds.
"I wonder what Dad thinks about this?"
They spoke in unison.
Both blinked, then burst out laughing.
At times, their instincts were remarkably aligned.
…
"How do I see it?"
Mike stroked his chin, read the question in the family chat, and slowly typed a few words.
"Wait and see."
Erik: ?
Charles: Dad, what do you mean?
Mike smiled faintly: Can this serum truly cure, or does it merely suppress for a time? If it only suppresses, then it's not really a problem.
Erik: Temporary suppression?
Charles: Dad, how do you know?
Mike: You both know Luke joined Celestials as a probationary hero, right?
Erik: Luke? Who's that?
Charles: Dad's neighbor's kid. A mutant with an unusual gift—he can suppress and cancel the powers of nearby mutants.
Erik: !
Mike: So I suspect the serum is derived from Luke's ability. The timing is too neat.
There had been no rumors—and then Luke joined the Celestials and revealed his power, and soon after the serum appeared. Add to that Mike's knowledge of how these stories tend to go…
Charles and Erik stared at Mike's messages, stunned.
If so, wouldn't that mean they were using a mutant's power to erase mutant powers?
Erik: Dad, are you sure?
Mike: Eighty percent. And there's a way to confirm the source.
Inspiration flashed for Charles; his fingers danced over the screen.
Charles: Luke? You mean—have Luke test it?
Mike: Right. If it doesn't affect him, the conclusion is obvious.
Charles: No. I won't let a child take that risk. Even if he volunteers, I won't agree.
Erik: Agreed!
Even if they learned the truth now, it wouldn't change much. Even if they announced the findings, those determined to try the serum would still try.
So—they would wait and watch.
Mike's "eighty percent" gave them confidence.
Charles: Thanks, Dad!
Erik: Love you, Dad!
Smiling at their replies, Mike set the phone aside.
The Purification Serum…
Ever since Luke's ability surfaced, Mike had suspected something like this would happen.
Now, here it was.
Those boys were still too kindhearted.
They were hoping that, after this, both sides could return to the status quo.
But even if Purification couldn't truly "cure" mutants and only suppressed abilities for a short time, it would still become a human weapon. And once humanity held a tool that could neutralize mutants, could the status quo really survive?
On that point, Mike drew a question mark.
"So, preparations are still necessary."
…
The government confirmed the serum's efficacy.
Purification officially went on sale. Registration at designated clinics was all it took to receive an injection.
Its miraculous effects were affirmed; the serum was hailed as the savior of mutants. Powered individuals flocked to be injected, and the world seemed to be changing for the better.
Many mutants resisted the serum's rise, declaring mutation was not a disease and they needed no cure.
To afford the exorbitant price, mutant crime spiked severalfold in a short span. Was Purification truly an unmitigated good?
In barely a month, the world grew loud with the serum's ripple effects.
Some protested. Some cheered. Some were indifferent.
And after another month, the situation finally shifted.
The earliest recipients of Purification began regaining their vanished powers.
At first, isolated cases were easy to dismiss. But as the numbers swelled, only one explanation remained: the serum never truly cured anything.
Purification had been rushed from development to rollout. Though its immediate effects were tested, time had not trialed it.
The idea of "curing" mutants turned into a punchline. Injected mutants joined the marches, protesting in fury, kicking up yet another storm.
Another month passed, and the Purification farce finally burned itself out.
Charles and Erik were overjoyed at the outcome.
Mike, however, only sighed.
This meant humanity's plan had failed—and Purification had become purely a weapon in their hands.
Even so, given the current climate, without a convenient pretext, open war between humans and mutants seemed unlikely for now.
With the situation stable enough, Mike finally decided to begin his interstellar journey.
Conveniently, Gwen was on summer break. Mike resolved to grant her wish.
Now he stood in his base, grinning at the starship before him.
At last, the ship was finished.
If it had once been a baby's cradle, now it was a safe harbor.
Sleek and pitch-black, the vessel boasted powerful energy shields but carried no weapon systems.
Because Mike himself was the ultimate weapon.
"See you, Jor."
Mike waved to Jor-El. "The base is in your hands."
"Understood," Jor-El replied.
Mike opened a portal and piloted the ship through.
He'd learned to fly during the construction phase.
Bursting out into the sky, the ship shimmered—and vanished as its cloaking engaged.
Half an hour later, after familiarizing himself with the controls, Mike parked the ship on the ocean's surface, opened a portal, and returned home.
He had barely appeared when Gwen came skittering up to him.
"Dad, where's my surprise?"
Last night at bedtime he'd promised one for today. She'd hardly slept, and the dark circles proved it.
"Didn't you say you wanted to travel to other planets?"
Gwen's face lit up. "You're agreeing to help me found the Gwen—our own ship?"
Last time, Mike had refused, and then Clark had too. Her heart had been thoroughly bruised.
Mike's face darkened. "Get your mind out of the gutter."
Gwen: _
"Then what's the surprise?"
"The surprise is—a starship."
Gwen: (Д)ノ
"A—a starship!?"
She stared at him as if he were an alien.
Mike nodded, perfectly serious.
"Daddy, I love you!"
Gwen crushed him in a hug, then blurted anxiously, "Where is it?"
"Relax—it's someplace you'll never find."
"?"
Head tilted, she peered at him, a giant question mark floating in those big eyes.
"Haha!"
Ruffling her hair, Mike said, "You'll see in a minute. Pack fast—I'm going to buy supplies."
"No problem!"
She bolted upstairs, yanked out her suitcase, and started flinging clothes.
"What do you even wear for space travel? What's the temperature like out there? How strong is the sun…"
"Forget it! Take everything. The ship can hold it all, right?"
Muttering to herself, she stuffed her belongings at high speed.
"Snacks, slippers, sunscreen—bring it all!"
"Oh—right!"
Gwen suddenly remembered something, rummaged in the cabinet, and strapped a special wristband on her arm.
Now she had two.
One was her suit band. The other was from Tony—used to control her mount, Night Hawk.
"No telling what we'll run into. Gotta bring this."
She beamed, imagining herself transformed and standing proud on Night Hawk's back—so thrilled that "happy tears" practically dribbled from the corner of her mouth.
She patted her cheeks, tucked away the goofy smile, and kept packing, humming now.
Meanwhile, Mike hit the supermarket for groceries, cookware, and other daily necessities. En route, he pinged the three Kent brothers with the plan and then called Raven.
An hour later, he returned home—his purchases already stashed aboard the ship.
A portal opened, and Raven stepped through, dragging a suitcase.
She hugged Mike and claimed a deep kiss. "Darling, you're amazing."
She'd never dreamed of vacationing on other planets.
"I'm always amazing."
He chuckled and patted her hip.
Raven rolled her eyes, parked her case in the living room, and headed upstairs.
"Gwen, need help packing?"
"Almost done!"
Gwen's voice rang back.
Mike grinned, flickered out of sight, and in a blur packed his own luggage.
When he reappeared in the living room, Raven and Gwen were coming down with their bags.
Three whole suitcases—every one of them Gwen's.
She offered a sheepish smile. "Girls pack more. It's normal."
Mike pointed at Raven's petite carry-on.
Gwen: "…"
Aunt Raven is a woman, not a girl!
She muttered inwardly, then said aloud, "I'm bringing Night Hawk!"
"Night Hawk?" Raven glanced at Mike, puzzled. "What's that?"
"My mount!"
Gwen explained. Mike gave her a nod.
She whooped. "Dad, you're the best!"
She tapped her control band. The lawn in Mike's backyard split open to reveal a dark shaft. An elevator rose—and a vast black metal raptor emerged into daylight.
The three of them, luggage in tow, headed for the yard.
Mike opened a portal; they wheeled their bags through into the ship's interior. The metal hawk beat its wings and swept in after them.
A heartbeat later, the portal winked out.
Wide-eyed, Gwen and Raven gazed around like curious explorers.
"The ship has two decks," Mike said. "Feel free to look around."
Both women nodded, barely containing their excitement.
"Bedrooms are upstairs," he added, pointing. Then he gestured around the current level. "Down here we've got the kitchen, a bar, a lounge and activity area, and the lift is over there."
"Awesome!"
Gwen cheered. After settling Night Hawk in a corner, she dashed for the lift with her luggage.
Raven smiled. "Much bigger than I imagined."
Hands spread, she measured the space, awe bright on her face.
"I figured it'd be about the size of the school's Blackhawk jet at most. Who knew it'd be nearly a basketball court!"
Mike chuckled. "Finish up—time to depart."
(End of Chapter)