Six months after Elektra officially joined our family, life had settled into something resembling normalcy.
The base was fully operational now—not just a hideout but a proper headquarters. We had training facilities, a medical bay, sleeping quarters for everyone, a tech lab that made Felicia's eyes light up, and most importantly, security systems that would make Fort Knox jealous.
Morning routines had evolved to accommodate five people with different schedules. I still woke at five for meditation and telepathic exercises. Elektra joined me at six for combat training. Maya would appear at seven for her own workout. Felicia rarely saw mornings, preferring to work late into the night. Jessica had SHIELD obligations that varied day to day.
But we always made time for each other.
This particular morning, I was sparring with Elektra when Felicia appeared looking concerned.
"We've got a situation," she announced. "Jessica just called—SHIELD's picking up weird energy signatures in Harlem."
I grabbed a towel, wiping sweat from my face. "Define weird."
"The kind that usually means enhanced individuals or alien tech. They want our expertise before sending a full team."
Working with SHIELD had become routine. After the Apocalypse incident and the Emma Frost situation, they'd started treating me as a consultant rather than a potential threat. It paid well and kept us connected to legitimate hero work.
"Tell her we'll be there in an hour," I decided. "Elektra, Maya—you're with me. Felicia, coordinate from here. If this goes bad, I want backup ready."
---
We arrived in Harlem to controlled chaos. SHIELD had cordoned off three blocks around an abandoned apartment building. Energy readings were spiking in irregular patterns.
Jessica met us at the perimeter, already in her Spider-Woman gear. "Readings started two hours ago. Infrared shows multiple heat signatures inside—at least six, maybe more."
I reached out with my telepathy, immediately frowning. "I'm detecting minds in there, but they're wrong. Fragmented, like they're only partially conscious."
"Drugged?" Elektra suggested.
"Maybe. Or something else." I pushed deeper, trying to clarify. "There's another presence too. Stronger, more focused. Someone's controlling or influencing the others."
"Another telepath?" Maya signed.
"Possibly. But this feels different. More... mechanical?"
We moved closer. That's when the screaming started—SHIELD agents clutching their heads in pain. I felt it too, a pulse of mental energy crashing over us.
I threw up shields around my team while shouting, "Everyone fall back!"
The screaming stopped as people retreated beyond the pulse's range.
"Psychic attack," I reported grimly. "Someone knows we're here and isn't happy about it."
"So we go in anyway?" Elektra was already checking her weapons.
"We go in smart. You and Maya take the rear entrance. Jessica and I hit the front. Simultaneous breach to minimize response time."
We split up. I mapped the interior through the minds I could sense—six fragmented consciousnesses clustered around a stronger presence on the third floor.
"Breach in three, two, one—"
Both teams hit the entrances simultaneously.
The interior had been gutted—walls torn down to create one large space. In the center stood a man wearing an elaborate purple helmet with cables running to a control station surrounded by six people with vacant eyes and drooling mouths.
"Psycho-Man," I breathed. A knockoff using stolen tech to amplify limited telepathic abilities.
"Step away from the hostages," Jessica commanded, bio-electric blasts charging.
The man laughed, distorted by his helmet. "Hostages? These are volunteers for a new world order! With this technology, I can link minds together, create a collective—"
I didn't let him finish. I reached out and shoved, hard.
The helmet deflected most of it, but I'd learned from Emma. I bypassed the technology and went for his autonomic nervous system—breathing, heartrate, balance.
He staggered, gasping as his body forgot how to coordinate. The helmet's power flickered.
"Now!"
Maya and Elektra moved in perfect sync, taking him down without damaging the helmet's connection to the victims. Jessica webbed the control station, yanking it away from the power source.
The energy field collapsed. The victims slumped unconscious but breathing.
"Clear!" Jessica called.
I examined the unconscious man's mind—a small-time criminal with stolen AIM technology. His natural abilities were minimal; the helmet did ninety percent of the work.
"He's nobody important," I reported. "But the tech is. This is advanced stuff—SHIELD will want to know where he got it."
I checked the victims' minds carefully. The damage wasn't permanent but would take weeks of therapy to recover from. The helmet had forced their consciousnesses together in ways human brains weren't meant to experience.
"They'll be okay eventually," I assured everyone. "But this could have been much worse."
---
Back at base, Felicia was already tracing the technology's origins.
"Good news and bad news," she announced, pulling up multiple data screens. "Good news: the tech has a signature matching several recent AIM and SHIELD facility robberies. We can track the source."
"Bad news?"
"The signature matches tech we've seen before. Specifically..." she pulled up security footage, "Emma Frost at one of the robbery sites."
My blood ran cold. "She's distributing advanced telepathic technology to criminals. But why?"
"Chaos? Making you look bad? Both?" Jessica suggested.
"Or funding something bigger," Elektra said. "Emma doesn't do anything without reason. If she's distributing this tech, she wants something to happen."
"We need to find her," I decided. "Not to arrest—SHIELD tried that. But to figure out what she's planning."
"Where do we start?" Maya signed.
"I got information from her mind during our training sessions. She owned properties through shell corporations—safe houses, meeting spots. If she's still operating in New York..."
Over three days, we systematically checked each location. Most were abandoned or sold. But the seventh—a converted warehouse in Brooklyn—showed recent activity.
We watched for two days, cataloging visitors. Mostly low-level criminals. But on the third day, someone more interesting appeared: Rogue, entering alone.
"What's she doing here?" Jessica wondered.
"Let's find out."
We waited until she emerged, looking frustrated. I stepped out of the shadows, hands visible and non-threatening.
"Rogue. Can we talk?"
She spun defensively. "Marcus Cole. Ah heard about you. What do you want?"
"Same thing you do, I think. Information about Emma Frost."
She studied me, clearly torn. Then: "Ah'm looking for a cure. Or at least control. Emma sent word she had technology that could help mutants with... problematic powers. But the place was empty except a note saying Ah had to prove Ah was serious."
"Prove how?"
"By bringing her information about Xavier's school. Security protocols, student rosters." Her voice was bitter. "Ah told her to go to hell. But she knew exactly what button to push. Ah can't touch anyone without hurting them, and she's dangling a solution."
I felt immediate sympathy. Never being able to touch another person without risking their life—I couldn't imagine that curse.
"What if I could help?" I said carefully. "I can't cure your power, but I might help you control it. I'm a telepath. Your absorption is partially mental. If we worked together, I might help you create barriers that let you choose when to use it."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because Emma's using your desperation to manipulate you. And because I need your help finding her. She reached out to you specifically—she's watching you. If we work together, we can set a trap."
"You want me as bait."
"I want us to work together to stop someone hurting people. Emma's distributing dangerous technology. She needs to be stopped."
Rogue was quiet for a long time. "What exactly are you offering? Regarding my condition?"
"Training sessions. Regular ones, as long as it takes. I'll help you build mental discipline, teach you control techniques. Unlike Emma, I'm not asking for anything except help stopping her."
"And if Ah say no?"
"You walk away and I won't stop you. But Emma will keep dangling that cure, and next time she asks for something, it might be worse than information."
Another pause. Then Rogue extended her gloved hand. "Alright. Deal. But if you're lying, if this is manipulation..."
"Ask Professor Xavier about me. He'll vouch for me. Mostly."
She almost smiled. "Xavier said you were complicated. Guess Ah'm about to find out how complicated."