The Sunday morning sun over Westchester County was deceptively peaceful, casting long, golden fingers across the manicured lawns of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.
Ethan sat in the back of the taxi he had commissioned for the trip, his eyes fixed on the passing iron gates. Beside him, Amy and Paige were vibrating with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. Since Peter had brokered the deal with Scott Summers, the two girls had been coming here every Sunday. It was a "favor" Peter had requested, a way to ensure that Paige—who was fast approaching the age of enrollment—and Amy, who had awakened powers, were prepared for the realities of their gifts.
"Do you think Mr. Logan will let us try the jungle simulation again?" Paige asked, her fingers idly sparking with a faint, static charge.
"He said if you mastered the 'static-cling' maneuver, we could move up to Level 2," Amy reminded her, checking the straps on her training gear.
Ethan watched them with a clinical detachment that he carefully masked behind a brotherly smile. To his friends, he was just tagging along to see the prestigious grounds. In reality, he was there to "verify." Destiny's words had stayed with him like a splinter in the brain. He needed to see if the X-Men were as distracted as he hoped, so he could look around.
As they pulled up to the circular driveway, the front doors of the mansion opened. Scott Summers—Cyclops—stepped out, his posture stiff, his signature ruby-quartz visor glinting in the morning light. He looked tired. The shadows under his jawline suggested he hadn't slept in days.
"Amy and Paige. You're… uh, Ethan, right?" Scott said, his voice level but strained. "Good to see you all again."
"Thank you, it's good to see you too. Is everything alright, Mr. Summers?" Amy asked, her youthful empathy picking up on the tension.
"Just a lot on our plates right now," Scott replied, glancing toward the upper floors where Jean Grey was undoubtedly scanning the horizon for any sign of her missing mentor. "The Professor is... still away on business. But the Danger Room is ready for you. Logan and Ororo will be overseeing the session today."
Ethan stepped out of the car, his mind instantly constructing "mental static" to act as a barrier. He knew Jean would be nearby, and her telepathy was far more invasive than Xavier's gentle probes. He projected a layer of superficial boredom and mild curiosity, burying his true intentions—the search for whatever Destiny might have seen here.
Inside the mansion, the air felt pressurized. The X-Men were present, but they were a hair-trigger away from a meltdown. Nightcrawler flickered through the hallways like a blue shadow; Colossus was pacing the foyer, his metallic skin catching the light; and Marrow was sharpening bone-protrusions in a corner, her eyes wild with agitation.
"They're still looking for the Professor," Ethan whispered to himself, "Distracted. Perfect."
He watched as Amy and Paige were led toward the elevator that descended into the Danger Room. But before the doors could close, the alarm klaxons of the institute screamed.
It wasn't a fire drill. It was the sound of the perimeter being breached.
"Not again," Scott growled, his hand flying to his visor.
From the clouds above the estate, the sky seemed to tear open. A swarm of Cataloguer Drones—sleek, obsidian orbs identical to the ones at Alcatraz—descended in a tight, military formation. But this time, the X-Men were ready.
Forge had been working tirelessly since the first attack. He had studied the scrap of the drone Peter and the team had brought down and built a specialized sensor array.
"Protocol 7!" Forge's voice boomed over the intercom. "Students to the Sub-Basement! Now!"
In the chaos, Beast (Hank McCoy) swept Amy and Paige into his massive, blue-furred arms. "Come along, young ladies! Adventure calls from the safety of the bunker!"
Ethan followed them, his heart rate steady despite the sirens. He found himself in, deep underground, surrounded by half-finished weapons and shimmering holodecks. Forge was hunched over a console, his bionic hand flying across the keys.
"They're coming in from the north-east," Forge muttered, his eyes reflected in the green glow of the monitors. "I've got a lock on their command frequency. If I can just backtrack the signal..."
On the screens above, the battle on the lawn was a symphony of power. Storm summoned a localized hurricane, pinning a dozen drones against the mansion walls. Wolverine and Marrow were a blur of claws and bone, shredding the obsidian husks as they landed. Colossus stood as an immovable pillar, swatting drones out of the air like flies, while Nightcrawler 'bamfed' from drone to drone, planting disruptive charges.
"I've got it!" Forge shouted, his face lighting up. "I'm inside their OS! I can see the origin... it's coming from somewhere in the middle of the Pacific!"
But as Forge began to download the coordinates, the drones in the sky suddenly seized. Their violet lights turned a dull, dead grey. One by one, they fell from the air, crashing into the grass like useless pebbles.
"They shut down," Beast noted, looking at the monitors. "Cerebro realized we were tracing its location, so it severed the link."
Ethan watched the screen, his mind racing. Looks like they are quite close. With this, even if they don't know exactly where, they probably find Xavier within a few days.
Back at Alcatraz in Sub-Basement 7
The silence of the ward was thick until she appeared.
Nina, the glowing girl, manifested directly in front of Charles Xavier's golden containment field. She didn't walk; she simply existed in the space between heartbeats. She looked at the Professor, her eyes black as the night sky.
She hopped onto the edge of the bed where Xavier sat, her movements light as a feather. She tilted her head, watching the man who had lost everything—his school, his friends, and his power.
"Ready to leave," she whispered. The words didn't come from her lips; they echoed inside his soul.
She leaned forward and tapped her forehead against his.
In that instant, the world of the Sub-Basement vanished. Xavier felt a rush of cold, pure energy—the "Echo" of the astral plane. Nina wasn't just a child; she was a bridge. She reached into the shattered remnants of his mind, into the void where his telepathy had once lived, and she pulled.
Xavier gasped, his eyes flying open. For a fleeting second, the psychic landscape of the entire planet bloomed in his mind. He felt the fear in New York, the confusion at the mansion, and the cold, mechanical hum of Cerebro.
"I... I can feel it," Xavier whispered, tears pricking his eyes. "My gift. It's still there."
"You need to speak to them," Nina said, her voice a soft bell.
She reached into the air and, with a shimmer of golden light, materialized a silver phone. It was an impossibility—a piece of matter pulled from the ether.
Xavier took the phone with trembling hands. He dialed the private emergency line for the X-Mansion. It rang. And rang. And rang.
"No one is picking up," Xavier said, his voice Tight with dread. "The mansion... it must be under attack."
"Then we do it the hard way," Peter's voice crackled from the pod beside them.
Peter had been watching the exchange through the frosted glass. He saw the girl. He saw the phone. He saw the impossible.
"Nina," Peter said, his voice muffled by the gel. "If you can make a phone, can you get us out of these boxes?"
Nina turned to the pods. She didn't use a hammer or a key. She simply reached out her hand and closed her eyes.
The reinforced glass and the power-dampening coils didn't break; they disassembled. The molecules of the pods simply uncurled, turning into a fine, sparkling dust that drifted to the floor. Peter, Matt, and Richard fell forward, the viscous gel splashing against the chrome floor.
Richard Rider hit the floor hard, his lungs gasping for air. "What... how? Professor?"
"It wasn't me, Richard," Xavier said, looking at the girl who was now idly swinging her legs on the bed.
Matt Murdock sat up, his radar sense returning in a violent, overwhelming rush. "So... there really is someone else in the room."
"That's Nina," Peter said, wiping the gel from his eyes. He felt his strength returning. He looked at the girl. "Thank you."
She just smiled and pointed toward the door.
"Rich, Matt, give me a second," Peter said, turning to the girl again. "Nina... the Professor can't walk. Can you help him?"
Nina nodded. She waved her hand, and out of the thin air, a high-tech, lightweight wheelchair manifested, perfectly fitted for Xavier.
Richard Rider stood up, his gold armor finally beginning to hum with the Nova Force. He looked at the empty pods, then at the Professor, then at the empty corner.
"I don't know what's going on," Richard said, his fists igniting with blue-white fire. "And I don't care. The dampeners are off, and I've got a day's worth of pent-up cosmic energy to vent."
"Wait!" Xavier shouted. "Cerebro's sensors are linked to the life-support of these pods. The moment you use your power, it will—"
Too late. Richard Rider let out a roar of defiance and unleashed a localized blast of Nova Force, vaporizing the remains of the pods and the primary door to the chamber.
In the heart of the facility, the "Brain" of Cerebro felt the breach. The silence of the island was shattered by a mechanical roar that shook the very foundations of the Rock.
"Unauthorized breach detected," the synthesized voice boomed over the intercoms. "The Archive has been compromised. Commencing immediate eradication of the biological variables."
Peter looked at the Professor, then at Matt and Rich. "Well," Peter said, pulling his mask down. "The secret's out. Ready to show this computer how we do things in New York?"
"Gladly," Matt said, his billy clubs snapping into place.
In the corner, Nina giggled. She jumped off the bed and started walking toward the wall, disappearing into the chrome as if it were water.