Two months after Rogue joined our family, life had settled into a productive rhythm.
Mornings started with group training—all six of us working together to build combat synergy. Elektra had designed a rotating schedule that ensured everyone trained with everyone else. Maya taught parkour and situational awareness. Jessica shared SHIELD combat protocols. Rogue practiced her absorption control, now able to hold powers for minutes without losing herself.
And me? I continued my systematic skill acquisition.
**From a NASA engineer** (through legitimate consulting work): Astrophysics, orbital mechanics, spacecraft systems. If cosmic threats were coming, I needed to understand how space actually worked, not just comic book versions.
**From a xenobiologist** (SHIELD consultant): Alien biology basics, how to identify non-terrestrial life forms, potential weaknesses in common alien species. Dry material, but essential.
**From a master strategist** (retired military, hired as consultant): Advanced tactical planning, logistics, resource management. How to coordinate multiple teams across different objectives.
Each skill took three to four weeks to fully integrate. My brain was becoming a repository of expertise that would take normal people lifetimes to accumulate.
"You're going to run out of skills to learn eventually," Felicia teased one evening as I reviewed notes from my latest session.
"Doubtful. There's always something new. Besides, breadth of knowledge creates unexpected synergies. My medical knowledge combined with my telepathy lets me affect pain receptors. My engineering knowledge combined with electronics lets me disrupt cybernetic enhancements. Every new skill multiplies the applications of existing ones."
"Nerd," she said affectionately, kissing my cheek.
"Your nerd."
"Damn right."
The first sign that cosmic threats were no longer theoretical came on a Tuesday.
I was in the training room with Rogue, helping her refine her absorption technique, when every psychic sense I had screamed danger.
"Something's wrong," I said, dropping my practice stance.
"What kind of wrong?" Rogue asked, immediately alert.
I reached out with my telepathy, scanning the city. What I found made my blood run cold—a void. A massive blank spot in Manhattan where minds should be but weren't.
"Times Square. Something just wiped out every mind in a three-block radius."
Alarms blared throughout the base. Within minutes, all of us were geared up and heading topside.
The scene was chaos. People wandering aimlessly, eyes vacant, minds… empty. Not dead—I could sense life—but consciousness was gone. Like someone had reached in and scooped out everything that made them people.
"What did this?" Jessica asked, already coordinating with SHIELD response teams.
I knelt beside one victim, touching their forehead. Their mind was there, but dormant. Locked behind some kind of barrier I couldn't break.
"Advanced telepathy. Beyond anything I've encountered. This isn't human work."
"Alien?" Maya signed.
"Possibly. Or—"
A portal opened in the center of the square. Not a natural phenomenon—this was manufactured, controlled. And through it stepped something that made everyone take a step back.
The creature was humanoid but clearly not human. Tall, slender, with grey skin that seemed to shift and flow like liquid metal. Its eyes—if you could call them that—were black voids that seemed to swallow light.
When it spoke, the voice came from inside our heads.
*Greetings, telepaths of Earth. I am Vril, representative of the Dominators. We have come to evaluate your species' potential.*
"Dominators," I breathed. I knew them from comics—an alien race that experimented on other species, creating meta-genes and studying enhanced individuals.
"What did you do to these people?" I demanded aloud.
*A simple test. We suppressed their higher functions to observe resistance levels. Your species shows promise—strong psychic potential, diverse genetic expressions. You will make excellent subjects.*
"Like hell," I snarled, reaching out with my telepathy—
And hitting a wall like solid diamond. This wasn't normal psychic shielding. This was something fundamentally different. My powers slid off it like water off glass.
*Crude,* Vril observed. *Your mental abilities are impressive by Earth standards, but primitive compared to Dominator techniques. You cannot affect us.*
It raised one hand, and I felt pressure against my mental shields. Not attacking—probing. Testing.
*Fascinating. Your mind shows unusual architecture. Self-modified neural pathways, absorbed skills, adaptive shields. You are not a natural telepath, yet you've achieved considerable power. You would be an excellent specimen.*
"I'm not anyone's specimen."
*That is not your choice to make.*
The pressure increased. I reinforced shields, but this was different from fighting Emma or other human telepaths. Vril wasn't trying to break in through force—it was methodically testing each layer, finding weaknesses, exploiting them with surgical precision.
I was losing.
Then Rogue touched my shoulder.
"Use me," she said. "Ah can absorb its powers, maybe disrupt whatever it's doing."
"You'd have to touch it. And we don't know if your absorption works on aliens."
"Only one way to find out."
Before I could stop her, Rogue launched herself at Vril. The alien tried to dodge, but Maya and Elektra were already moving, herding it into position.
Rogue's hand connected with Vril's arm.
The effect was immediate and catastrophic.
Rogue screamed as alien consciousness flooded into her mind. I felt it through our mental link—vast, ancient, utterly inhuman thoughts crashing against her psyche.
But she held on, her absorption pulling in not just Vril's powers but its knowledge, its memories, its very sense of self.
Vril staggered, clearly not expecting this. *What are you doing? You cannot contain—*
"The hell Ah can't!" Rogue snarled, her voice overlaid with something alien. Her eyes went black, matching Vril's, and when she raised her hand, psychic force exploded outward.
The suppression on the civilians' minds shattered. All around the square, people gasped and collapsed as consciousness returned.
*Impossible,* Vril sent, its mental voice weakening. *You are absorbing our essence. This has never—*
"Shut up!" Rogue commanded, and the alien went silent, its will suppressed by its own stolen powers turned against it.
I rushed to Rogue's side. Through our link, I could feel her struggling to contain the alien consciousness. It was too big, too foreign. She was winning, but at enormous cost.
"Let me help," I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. I opened our mental connection completely, lending my discipline and control to her effort.
Together, we forced Vril's consciousness into a corner of Rogue's mind, contained and controlled. The alien's body collapsed, unconscious.
"How long can you hold it?" I asked.
"Minutes. Maybe an hour if Ah push." She was sweating, trembling from the effort. "But Marcus, Ah got its memories. The Dominators aren't just here to observe. They're planning an invasion. This was reconnaissance for a full-scale attack."
"When?"
"Soon. Days, maybe weeks. They're waiting for more data." She gasped, nearly losing control. "There's more. They've been watching Earth for years. They know about the Avengers, the X-Men, SHIELD. They have countermeasures planned for everything."
"Everything except us," I realized. "We're too new. Too small to be on their radar."
"Exactly. We might be Earth's only advantage."
SHIELD arrived in force, led by Jessica's superior, Maria Hill. She took one look at the scene—unconscious alien, civilians recovering, my team standing guard—and her expression went cold.
"Cole. Explain. Now."
I gave her the condensed version while SHIELD secured the area and took Vril into custody. Hill listened without interrupting, her tactical mind already processing implications.
"If what you're saying is true, we need to inform Director Fury immediately. The Avengers, the X-Men—everyone needs to know."
"Agreed. But Director Hill, there's something else. The Dominators have detailed intelligence on all major hero teams. They're prepared for everything we can throw at them. Standard tactics won't work."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Let us help. We're off their radar, our capabilities unknown. We might be able to accomplish things larger teams can't."
She studied me for a long moment. "You want to be part of Earth's defense against an alien invasion."
"I want to protect my home. Whatever that takes."
Hill nodded slowly. "I'll bring it to Fury. But Cole? If you're playing me, if this is some kind of power grab—"
"It's not. Check Vril's mind yourself if you don't believe me. The threat is real."
As SHIELD hauled the alien away, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change. We'd been preparing for cosmic threats in abstract. Now one had literally fallen into our lap.
The question was: were we ready?
The debriefing lasted six hours.
We were brought to the Triskelion—SHIELD's headquarters—where Director Nick Fury himself grilled us about every detail. Rogue had to maintain her hold on Vril's consciousness the entire time, growing more exhausted by the hour.
"This is the realest shit we've faced since the Chitauri," Fury said, reviewing our intelligence. "Aliens planning a full-scale invasion, and we've got what? Days to prepare?"
"Possibly weeks," I corrected. "They're waiting for more reconnaissance data before committing forces."
"Which means they'll send more scouts. More of these Dominators." Fury turned to Rogue. "How long can you hold that thing's powers?"
"Hours, at most. Then they'll fade like any absorption." She was pale, shaking. "But Ah've got everything from its mind. Battle plans, technology specs, troop dispositions. Everything."
"We need that intelligence extracted and analyzed. Doctor Selvig, get in here!"
A disheveled scientist entered, took one look at Rogue, and went pale. "Director, if she's absorbed alien consciousness, attempting psychic extraction could—"
"Could nothing. We need that data." Fury turned back to me. "Cole, you're a telepath. Can you pull the information out of her head without harming her?"
"Possibly. But it'll take time and very careful work. Alien neurology is different from human. If I'm not careful—"
"How careful and how long?"
"Eight hours minimum. Maybe twelve. And I'll need complete silence, no interruptions, and someone standing by with sedatives in case she starts losing control."
"You've got it. Conference room three is yours." Fury stood. "But Cole? I'm trusting you with this because we don't have better options. Don't make me regret it."
As we set up in the conference room, Felicia pulled me aside.
"Are you sure about this? Diving into an alien-contaminated mind? You've never done anything like this before."
"I know. But we need that intelligence. Earth needs it." I squeezed her hand. "I'll be careful. I promise."
"You better be. We just got you trained up to useful levels. Losing you now would be inconvenient."
I smiled despite the tension. "I love you too."
"Damn right you do."
Extracting Vril's knowledge from Rogue's mind was like performing surgery with a sledgehammer while blindfolded.
I established our deepest mental connection yet, diving into her consciousness. What I found was chaos—human memories tangled with alien thoughts, Earth emotions mixed with incomprehensible Dominator logic.
*Easy,* I sent to Rogue. *Let me guide you. We'll separate it together.*
It took hours of painstaking work. I had to identify which thoughts were Vril's, carefully extract them without damaging Rogue's psyche, and organize the information into something comprehensible.
The intelligence we gathered was terrifying.
The Dominators had been watching Earth for five years. They'd observed every major superhero battle, cataloged every power, identified every weakness. They had plans to neutralize the Hulk, counter Iron Man's technology, suppress Xavier's telepathy.
They were sending a fleet. Not just scouts—a full invasion force. Thousands of soldiers, dozens of ships, weapons that made Chitauri technology look primitive.
And they were coming in two weeks.
"Jesus Christ," Fury muttered when I presented the findings. Around the conference table sat the Avengers' leadership—Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow. Xavier represented the X-Men. And us, the unknown wildcards.
"Two weeks to prepare for an invasion force that's been planning this for years," Tony Stark said, projecting holographic displays of the Dominator fleet. "And they know everything about us. Great. Just great."
"Not everything," I corrected. "They don't know about my team. We're too recent, too small to register on their long-term surveillance."
"What difference does that make?" Steve Rogers asked. "No offense, Cole, but you're six people. This is a planetary invasion."
"Six people they won't see coming," I countered. "Look at their plans. They're prepared for every major hero team, every SHIELD response protocol. But they're not prepared for a small, unknown team operating outside standard parameters."
"You want to run special operations," Natasha Romanoff said, catching on immediately. "Hit targets of opportunity while they're focused on the main defenses."
"Exactly. We can't win a direct confrontation. But we might be able to disrupt their command structure, sabotage key systems, create chaos that larger teams can exploit."
"It's risky," Xavier said. "You'd be operating behind enemy lines with no support."
"We've been operating in the shadows for months," Felicia pointed out. "It's what we do best."
Thor leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "The warriors of Earth cannot prevail through might alone against such numbers. But cunning, stealth, striking where the enemy believes themselves safe—this could turn the tide."
"I don't like sending anyone on a suicide mission," Cap said. "But Cole has a point. If the Dominators are as prepared as this intelligence suggests, we need unconventional tactics."
Fury made the decision. "Cole's team gets special ops assignments. You'll coordinate with SHIELD tactical, but you'll have operational independence. Your job is to make the Dominators' lives hell while we handle the main assault."
"We'll need better equipment," I said. "Alien technology, advanced weapons, anything that can level the playing field."
"Stark will handle that," Fury replied. "Tony, get them what they need."
Tony gave me an appraising look. "Interesting. The telepath who's been operating in my city's shadows finally steps into the light. Fine. Come by my workshop tomorrow. We'll get you outfitted with tech that actually works."
As the meeting broke up and teams dispersed to begin preparations, I felt the weight of what we'd just committed to.
In two weeks, Earth would face an alien invasion. And my small team—six people with powers, skills, and determination—would be on the front lines.
We needed to train harder. Plan better. Become stronger than we'd ever been.
Because this time, failure didn't just mean losing a fight.
It meant losing everything.
-----
That night, back at our base, we held our own meeting.
"Let's be real," Felicia said. "We're good, but are we 'fight an alien invasion' good?"
"We have two weeks to get there," I replied. "Time to accelerate everything."
"Accelerate how?" Jessica asked.
"Skill transfers. I've been learning systematically, one skill at a time. But we don't have that luxury anymore. I need to absorb as many combat-relevant skills as possible, as fast as possible."
"That's dangerous," Elektra warned. "Rapid skill acquisition without proper integration leads to neural damage. You've been careful specifically to avoid that."
"I know the risks. But what choice do we have?" I looked around at my family. "In two weeks, Dominators will be here. They're stronger, more advanced, better prepared. Our only advantage is that we're unknown. To leverage that, I need to be as skilled, as capable, as dangerous as possible."
"Then we all do it," Rogue said. "Ah can absorb and transfer skills too. If Ah take your knowledge and pass it to the others, we can all upgrade faster."
"That's… actually brilliant," I admitted. "We could multiply our training efficiency exponentially."
"It's also exhausting and risky for everyone involved," Maya signed. "But she's right. We don't have time for slow and steady."
Over the next two hours, we planned our crash course in becoming alien-fighting badasses. It would be brutal, exhausting, and possibly dangerous.
But we were all in.
Because Earth needed us. And we'd be damned if we let our home fall.