The alley went quiet after the kid left.
But quiet didn't mean safe.
His emotional field lingered faintly through the city's hum — unstable, volatile, flickering with raw potential that hadn't settled into any defined shape.
Potential like that didn't stay unnoticed for long.
Magneto would send someone stronger than Toad.
Someone smarter.
Someone fast.
If I wanted to protect the kid — and myself — I needed information.
And I needed samples.
Not to hurt him.
Not to weaponize him.
To understand him.
Because mutants weren't like the villains whose emotions I'd absorbed before. Their powers weren't just expressions of feelings — they were tied into genetic codes, latent impulses, biological resonance.
If my abilities could evolve from emotional signatures…
Then biological signatures could lead to something deeper.
A subtle expansion.
A new layer.
Maybe even a hybrid resonance I hadn't tapped yet.
The kid walked faster as he put distance between us, clutching the card I'd given him. His fear was fading. His relief growing.
But relief made people unaware.
So I followed — silent, masked, presence flattened.
He rounded the corner onto an empty side street lit by a single flickering lamp.
Perfect.
My footsteps didn't make a sound as I closed the distance.
He never noticed me.
A swift, controlled emotional pulse hit him — a soft, warm wave of heavy calm. Not fear. Not pain. Just sudden, irresistible exhaustion.
His knees wobbled.
He swayed.
And I caught him before he hit the ground.
He breathed steadily, unconscious but unharmed.
"Sorry, kid," I murmured. "I need answers before Magneto finds you again."
I laid him gently against the wall and pulled a sterile syringe from the inside pocket of my jacket — one of the tools I had learned to carry after too many unpredictable encounters.
His mutation was fresh.
His DNA unstable.
His cells still adjusting.
A small sample would be enough for what I needed.
Just a single vial.
I cleaned the inside of his elbow, slid the needle in, drew blood slowly. His emotional field flickered but stayed dormant.
The vial glowed faintly.
Mutant energy always did.
I capped it, slid it into a protected case, and wiped away any trace of the draw.
Then I stood.
One more source remained.
---
Tracking Toad's Signature
Toad's emotional residue was easy to follow — pungent, sticky, vibrating with irritation and bruised pride.
He hadn't made it far.
Just three rooftops over, sitting on a ventilation unit, spitting acidic saliva onto the metal and cursing under his breath.
He was nursing cracked ribs and a damaged ego.
Good.
I approached without sound.
He didn't hear me until I was right behind him.
He spun around — but too late.
A precision pulse of weighted calm hit him first, locking his muscles just long enough for me to grip his shoulder and shove him back against the wall.
"You—" he croaked.
I pressed two fingers to his throat — not choking, just applying the slightest emotional pressure to keep him still.
"Relax," I said. "This won't kill you."
His eyes widened. "What are you—?"
I pulled the syringe.
"To understand why Magneto wants the kid."
Hatred and fear twisted in his aura.
"You can't— Magneto will—"
"I don't work for Magneto."
My tone stayed level.
"And I don't fear him."
Toad thrashed weakly, but I held him steady and slid the needle into the tough, almost amphibian-like flesh of his upper arm.
His blood came out dark, viscous, almost green-tinted.
Not human.
Not entirely mutant either.
Something in between.
I capped the vial, stepped back, and let him slump forward.
He gasped, glaring.
"You're dead," he rasped. "Brotherhood won't forgive this."
"Let them come."
His rage flickered.
His fear spiked.
Good enough.
I turned away.
He didn't attack.
He didn't follow.
He just breathed hard, muttering Magneto's name like a prayer or a threat.
---
Two Vials
I stood on a rooftop overlooking the glowing maze of New York, the wind settling around me.
In one hand — the kid's blood.
Unstable.
Charged with emerging power.
A mutation in its birth throes.
In the other — Toad's blood.
Steady.
Defined.
Already shaped by years under Magneto's influence.
Two different kinds of mutant signatures.
Two paths.
Two possibilities.
My ability resonated faintly just looking at them — emotional senses prickling with curiosity.
Not fear.
Not danger.
Opportunity.
These samples weren't about becoming a mutant.
That wasn't how my power worked.
But they would let me do something else.
Something far more valuable:
Understand how emotion intertwined with mutant biology.
How resonance could evolve.
How to counter — or enhance — mutant powers.
Knowledge that Magneto didn't want anyone to have.
Knowledge he would kill for.
Knowledge that could change everything.
I slipped both vials into a secure container inside my jacket.
Then I looked out across the city.
The night felt different now.
Sharper.
Heavier.
Full of new threads pulling at the edges of my power.
The Brotherhood would come for me.
The X-Men might come for the kid.
And somewhere, Magneto had just realized that someone unknown had interfered in his search.
That someone had taken samples.
That someone wasn't scared of him.
A storm was brewing.
Good.
I was ready for it.
---