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7s and 2s

Reader mode
WaywardWriter said:
I hope you enjoyed
Click to expand...
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I did.

So going by the visual changes, enhanced physical condition, some manner of enhanced sight (night vision maybe?) and going by the ridge placement he's either got a boost to his spitting and/or tongue or has some manner of sonic power.
 
Might be gills? That'd be more of a Lungfish thing than a Toad thing, but amphibious adaptation seems like a secondary mutation that's on brand for him, and Rebirth might trigger one.
 
Chapter 20: Absolution is Action
Chapter 20: Absolution is Action​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.
I was expecting many things to happen once Rebirth activated and the process was complete.

The severe drowsiness that arrived when the light flooded in and the out of body experience was uncomfortable but it wasn't painful. Nor was the sensation of sinking into a warm pool of water, the faint memory of darkness as I plummeted without seeing a bottom in sight incredibly vivid. It was oddly comforting rather than terrifying.

Any chance (or desire) to resist never arose so I just…rode it out.

I didn't feel the transition from my original physicality to Super Soldier level conditioning. Didn't felt a fundamental change begin or end. I just knew that by the time the light had faded and the drowsiness subsided, all I could feel was-

Solidity.

That was the best way to describe how my body felt. There was a strength and steadiness in all my limbs now that made existing…effortless. Even after becoming Toad and gaining firsthand experience of being a low level Superhuman, the feeling of being bound by gravity never quite went away. Even with how light his powers made him.

That ever present drag of gravity pulling you down to the Earth and using the most basic of conscious effort to stand upright. I didn't feel that anymore. The energy loss was so negligible it felt like I was floating. I felt…free.

The moment I opened my eyes; nothing could have prepared for…this.

The world looked different. Colors in the room bloomed to me in ways I never once conceived. Light and heat flowing in ways I could visibly see; refracting off the air and around solid objects. Even with the foggy glass directly in front of me, my vision pierced through it easily and gave high resolution snapshots of the world outside in real time. It was like I was walking around my whole life partially blind and got handed a 4k camera to use as eyeballs.

The difference should have been disorienting. It should have been nausea inducing.

It wasn't. I quickly theorized that my newly enhanced brain was now receiving, processing and relaying every detail back to me in a way that didn't give any strain. Because this would have given my old noggin a fucking headache. That I knew without a shadow of a doubt.

All this went through my head in a fraction of a second, giving even more weight to my theory (You never realize how fast you can think until you gain the ability to process things even faster). Once everything finished coming into focus, I took stock of the development within the lab. I saw the soldiers in black combat gear and wielding military grade weaponry standing at the corners of a smashed open door. I saw a giant of a blond man with a smoldering arm standing in the center.

And I saw the doc, holding the line with the alien gun before turning around and staring up at me in shock. I took all of it in for a second.

Then the blond man went for something on his hip, and I was on the move.

Two things surprised me off the rip, one of which was how the glass gave way at my lunge. Not because it broke or because I didn't think I could do it.

What surprised was how trivial it was to do so. The glass parted like water in my charge instead of the physical material it was, the countless shards bouncing off my skin or leaving tiny white marks rather than piercing it like I thought they would.

The second was my speed. I leapt from the Rebirth Chamber with the same level of strength that's always allowed me to cross close distances in a single bound, if a little stronger to successfully barrel through the glass. Faster than most people are used to but nothing crazy enough to lose track of me.

My surroundings blurred as I flew from my position like I was shot from a railgun, reaching the tall man before he could even blink. I placed my foot in front of me on instinct.

It connected with his chest in an ear ringing, thunderous clap. I felt innumerable unholy cracking and groaning sensations beneath my heel as the force of the impact sent us rocketing out of the lab through the busted door.

The blond man slammed into the concrete, his back cratering the hard surface and sending thousands of cracks spiderwebbing across the wall and up to the ceiling. Dust and fragments of stone flew everywhere, filling the entire space.

'Oh he's dead.' I rationalized internally while lowering my aching foot, the man buried a few inches into the rock and a deep foot imprint left behind on his chest, his head hanging low. He didn't move after that.

The soldiers reacted instantly.

"Hostile Enhanced!"

"Yeah, no shit!"

"Shoot him!"

There were four on my right side and three on the left, all reacting with various levels of surprise and fear to which they pointed their guns at me once enough of the dust cleared.

Despite bearing witness to what was a totally unexpected development (me and them both), they didn't break formation and responded with disciplined quickness.

Problem was, to my eyes, it was like they were moving through quicksand.

They weren't standing completely still, but they were moving so slowly that by the time they fully raised their rifles, I had taken a single long stride and landed right in the middle of the group of four. Now vividly aware of my greatly enhanced strength, I sent an uppercut to one of the soldier's midsection at a quarter of the strength.

The blow sent the soldier flying up a foot into the air. He folded like I took a sledgehammer to his abdomen. Whatever he had to eat earlier was vomited out, the food chunks and stomach acid spilling from his face mask (that was disgusting).

Swiveling on my feet I sent an elbow to the second soldier's chin, this time pulling my punch even more, to the point I felt like I was giving him a love tap.

That love tap snapped the man's head in the opposite direction of my blow, dislocating his jaw and dropping him like a puppet cut from his strings. Coincidentally, he landed the same time the first soldier came falling back down to the earth. I placed both my hands on the backs of the last two and gave them a shove.

I didn't have it in me to be surprised anymore when they were sent flying off their feet, colliding with their compatriots across the hall like human projectiles, the impact of bodies on bodies resulting in the crystal-clear sound of breaking bones and brutalized flesh.

I looked to the soldiers now lying motionless on the ground. 7 heavily armed and presumably trained soldiers, all systematically taken down in what seemed like seconds. Perhaps even less.

And I hadn't even broken a sweat. I stared down at my outstretched hands in silence, turning them over to look at my palms. I rubbed my fingers together as if for the first time in a long while.

Low voices and shuffling feet drew my attention down the hall to the main lobby. Were there more-

I ducked at the sound of an unnaturally heavy hammer being cocked and trigger pulled. A split second later a thick bullet pierced through the space my head was originally occupying and entered the wall, creating a fist sized crater.

'Did I just track that bullet moving through the air?'

That observation was somehow placed on the back burner as I looked to the source of the bullet. Pressing his ruined arm against the wall for support and half hunched over, the blond man pointed what looked like the world's most aggressively customized desert eagle in my direction with a livid expression.

I gave what I thought was a perfectly valid reaction.

"You're still alive?!?"

He responded by shooting at me again. The blond man was significantly faster than his peers, his movements somewhat approaching normal speeds compared to the other soldier's sloth impressions.

Still, by the time he adjusted his aim and took another shot, I had leapt to the ceiling and was running towards him on it.

I rapidly hopped from wall to ceiling to floor as he desperately tried to track and hit me. Each shot from the ridiculously large barrel sounded like a cannon going off with the bullets gouging out holes in the concrete. When I skidded to a stop in front of him he moved to shoot me point blank in the chest and I grabbed his wrist, pulling it harmlessly to the side.

My other hand reached up in the same motion and caught the haymaker meant for my face. That actually succeeded in forcing me back a step; I had to recenter my footing to avoid being thrown off further. The man tried to break my grip on him and while I ultimately held on, it wasn't without a fair share of effort.

'He's stronger than he looks…' My brow rose when I heard the creaking of metal and strange hardness under my hands as he kept trying to escape. Looking away from the blond man's stoic expression of anger (and no small amount of growing bewilderment), I looked down at the fist I was holding and saw the lines of silvered bones revealed inside the burned away skin. There was no blood or muscle tissue inside; just circuity. "Ah. So you're a Cyborg. Or…is it Android?" Callum never did explain the difference, nor did I ever get around to asking Jet about it.

Of course, I wasn't really expecting him to answer so I wasn't surprised when the blond man just tried to headbutt me in the nose.

My knee rose to meet his lower jaw, the sound like a gunshot going off as the bottom of his teeth meet the top, resulting in a clatter of broken metal fragments spraying from his mouth. That part of his jaw became deformed.

As if the partial mutilation of his mouth was a mere inconvenience, the man spat a few of the fragments at my face (to which I leaned to the side) before lunging forward to bite my neck with his remaining teeth, diminished in number but the broken edges gleamed menacingly in their own way.

I released the grip on his fist. He stumbled forward as I stepped to the side and grabbed his other arm tightly in both of my hands.

The man was thrown off his feet as I swung him with all my strength over my shoulder.

The hallway shook from the sheer force of him hitting the ground, making another crater and sending another cloud of dust upward. He immediately tried to stand back up, twisting his arm around to get a better shot and I swung him again, this time into the wall.

Then into the other wall. Then to the ceiling. Then back to the floor again. The last two more times.

Despite being tossed around like a ragdoll for the better part of 20 seconds, the blond man never once cried out in pain or cursed. He didn't even give a single grunt of discomfort. He just kept trying to reposition as best he could, either to break my hold or get a clear shot (it was honestly pretty impressive how he never lost his grip).

Regardless of the tenacity though. By the time I redecorated the sterile corridor with more holes than a poorly made road after hurricane season, I stopped and held him aloft with one hand.

The arm I was holding was completely bent to shit. The joints had long snapped in half at some point and the wrist broken so he was just dangling.

The rest of his body was hardly in better shape. His uniform was shredded to bits, the fake skin underneath full of cracks and pieces of internal wires were exposed, oil like fluids leaking from them. His legs were scuffed and horribly scratched up. He looked like he went through hell.

And he was still trying to bite me!

"You're a trooper huh?" I said, holding him at arm's length so he couldn't get a bite off and swatted away a giant knife thrust meant for my thigh (where the fuck did he get that?).

Tossing him against the wall, I held out an arm as he scrambled to stand up. Considering how things have been going since leaving the Rebirth Chamber, I was prepared to expect anything when using my Mucus.

The sensation of the substances building in my upper chest, the Mucus mixing with the Toxin and mentally diverting the combination to my forearm was familiar as ever, but it took half as much time to create and I only experienced a fraction of the usual exertion.

I flicked my wrist and it splattered over the blond man and the wall, hardening like it always did.

I watched however as the Mucus's yellowish green tint turned darker and darker as seconds passed until it became an almost black green.

I knew my Mucus better than anyone. Even after the discovery of my Toxin and how adding a small amount could greatly elevate its toughness, I knew that my old Mucus would have never held this dude. Not for very long anyway. Now?

His expression was still carved from stone but I could tell he was trying his damn hardest to rip through the stuff…and was failing spectacularly. His arms would move an inch or two before the Mucus's shape would snap them back into place, starting the vicious cycle all over again.

With how strong the guy's blows had felt, the fact he was struggling to even move right now was…

'Holy shit.' That was unreal. How strong was my Mucus now? Was my Toxin equally as affected? Would my regular slime have some notable differences? (I didn't feel anything different right now but a closer inspection later may reveal something).

It seemed stupid to be so surprised at this development considering how much stronger and faster I got but a physical increase from the Rebirth Process was always a sure thing in my mind. That aspect stayed the same no matter the universe.

The chance it would directly alter my Mutant abilities was less assured. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, the implications just hitting m-

A croak echoed throughout the hall.

I froze. So did the blond man, if temporarily. My hand found my throat and became aware of the countless little bumps lining my neck. A probing touch revealed they were almost uniform going down; arranged in curved ridges.

I stared at the man. He stared back.

"That was…You heard that too right?"

"…"

I looked away from the blond man to the shuffle of multiple heavy footfalls coming down the hall. I spotted another group of soldiers walking down from the main hall and to the lab. Their weapons were at the ready and there were 8 of them. I squinted at the strange, unnaturally bright orbs at the tips of their guns.

A blink later and the orbs, that were shining an oppressive white light, weakened to a much more manageable soft white. Their forms also got a lot clearer and I saw that they were flashlights.

I didn't realize before because I was too busy avoiding gunfire and getting used to my power, but were the lights turned off outside the lab? The ting between the lab and outside the hall was subtle but noticeable now that I got a chance to breath. Can I see in the dark now?

'Right. Toads have a sort of night vision, don't they?' Pretty sure I read that somewhere. I also remembering reading that they couldn't really see all that far with most things becoming blurry at a certain distance but I could easily see the moment the soldiers rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and begin their approach.

The soldiers made it part of the way in middle of my musings. I wondered if the Rebirth Process integrated with my Mutation to give me the eyes of a toad and the vision of a peak Human, the two merging their best parts into one whole. It would explain how I could see color in the dark as well without my vision being impaired by plain old light.

I stepped forward when they finally saw me, near all of their flashlights snapping in my direction. Their frames stiffened at the sight of all their compatriots on the ground (I assumed), and I didn't need my newly enhanced senses to notice their poorly-hidden worry.

"H-Hands up!" The leading soldier yelled, not very confidently at that. "Identify yourself!"

I tilted my head at that, an idea entering my head. Should I? My short pause caused the blond man to scowl and turned his head (as best he could anyway) to the men, speaking with a broken lisp.

"Jut oot him alre-"

I took a breath. An unconscious action that I've done countless times in both lives, I didn't feel the usual sensation of my chest getting full of air well past the point it should have. I took in more and more and more air without pause.

And there, at the very bottom of my sight, I saw the skin around my neck and parts of my chest bulge to an unnatural size.

Experimentation with new abilities in the middle of combat was never a good idea; that was something I knew even before gaining powers. In the heat of battle, unproven abilities would more likely than not be a detriment than an asset. It was common sense.

Still. I kept breathing in until I felt my lungs finally reach full capacity and-

Croak.

I lost all sense of hearing for a moment, and a ripple went out in waves through the air.

The entire hallway shook violently. Even more dust and stone fell from the ceiling as what I could only describe as a localized shockwave squeezed its way down the corridor in front of me.

The shockwave slammed into the soldiers like a physical wall, sending them flying off their feet and carrying them all the way back to the main hall, their bodies banging against the walls and ceiling as they were swept away. If they made cries of surprise or pain when they landed near a hundred feet away in the other room, I didn't hear it.

All I knew was that when the shockwave ended and the air stopped rippling, my hearing returned with a small popping sound. I unconsciously clicked my tongue.

The soldiers were piled in a corner in the main lobby, having met an actual wall where the shockwave pushed them. I glanced over to the blond man who was staring at me with wide eyes (that was the first real sign of emotion I've seen from him). I scratched my slightly sore throat in contemplation.

…Dude.

'Oh, there you are.' I thought absentmindedly, still ruminating on the earlier sensation. 'You were real quiet through all of that.'

Yeah, no shit. I didn't want to distract you and I was too busy just keeping track of…everything going on.

'Ah…That makes sense I guess.'

Seriously man, that was…that was…holy fucking shit!

I couldn't help it. A soft snort leaked out, followed by a louder yet still contained laugh.

'Holy fucking shit indeed…' A wide smile spread across a smile as I rolled my shoulders, admiring the newfound strength filling my body. While I had expected my physical parameters to improve after Rebirth, the sheer level they were brought to boggled the mind. Add in the fact my other Mutant abilities were also amplified?

This was a game changer. And while I knew on a base intellectual level it just wasn't true (not by a long shot), in this very moment…I felt invincible.

'The doc does some damn good wo-'

Lionel. My eyes widened and I hurriedly turned around to run into the lab but stopped at the threshold. Glancing back at the stuck blond man, his scowl returned with full force when I splashed him with a bit more of my Mucus, adding an extra layer on top (just to be safe).

Reentering the lab, I immediately saw that the doc wasn't in the front of the Rebirth Chamber anymore. Quickly scanning the room and taking a jog around the terminals, I ended up finding him huddled in a corner, hiding behind the terminal in charge of the facilities' cameras.

"Doc." I called out to him and, like a skittish animal, Lionel snapped around and leveled the alien rifle at me. I stopped and held up my arms. "Whoa. Easy doc, it's just me."

"T-Todd?" He asked hesitantly and I nodded, smiling softly.

"Yeah. It's me. Sorry for scaring you back there; I figured I had to act quickly before things got more dangerous but I dealt with the men out there." I explained. "Are you alright?"

My question seemed to mollify the doc because he lowered the rifle with a relief breath, his body slouching. His expression was pale and he was little out of breath but overall, he looked fine.

"I-I'm okay. Shaken up, but I'll live." He said before looking up at me, a skeptical light in his eyes. "What about you? Are…Do you feel okay? Does anything hurt? Does anything feel…wrong?"

I could hear the worry in his voice at the questions, his worst fears from previous Rebirths still fresh in his mind even after learning how Mutants were the key to making it work. Raising a hand under his view, clenching and unclenching it, I stared at it in thoughtful wonder.

"Honestly doc?...I don't think I've ever felt better than I do right now. I feel incredible."

Lionel slowly stood up at my claim, grabbing my hand for support and gave me a long look over. He got up close and personal, placing a hand on my arms, shoulder and my torso, prodding and asking if anything came back painful.

When I shook my head he did a whole lap around me, double checking if I was hurt in the fight. He even took a look at my neck and it was through him that I learned my eyes were now different.

He asked me again if I was sure. That I was really, really sure nothing felt odd and could be worrying. Apparently even the most successful Super Soldiers who lasted weeks beyond the usual average would exit the procedure feeling lethargic and with acute sensitivity in places that, by all science, should not be giving them pain.

There was nothing. No pain or out of place strain, even after that fight. I was the picture of health. He fell silent for a long moment.

Then he grabbed both my shoulders, a stunned expression on Lionel.

"We did it…" He whispered.

"We did it." I echoed with a smile. A laugh full of disbelief and what must have been years of repressed exhaustion exited him, culminating in a massive bear hug.

I was careful in returning the hug, not wanting to accidentally hurt the old man with what I think is a simple pat on the back. Giving him a moment when I heard sniffles, we eventually separated and Lionel gave me a pointed look.

"We need to take samples. Do blood work and the like; you may not feel it now but it's important we double check while we have the means to do it properly."

"I'm game, but we should probably deal with the guys outside first before getting into that." I said and Lionel blinked.

"Oh. R-Right. Yes, you're right. I got a bit too excited there." Rubbing his eyes tiredly, the older man steeled his expression a second later. "Let's see what we're dealing with before getting to work."

"I didn't see any iconography on the soldiers when I was taking them down. The only other person still awake is this real friendly conversationalist but I don't think he's in the mood to answer our questions. Probably best to just check their pockets and see what we find."

"Actually." Lionel started with a deep frown. "I might have an idea who this might be…"

We exited the lab after that Lionel a step behind me while I surveyed the corridor. The unconscious soldiers were just where I left them, their shallow breathing indicating they were still alive. Others were a lot more quiet.

The blond man was also still stuck to the wall. His murderous expression was very prevalent and it went unchanged at the sight of us. Lionel scanned him and up down, taking special note of his cybernetics where they were obvious past the Mucus prison. His frown grew heavier after a moment.

"I wasn't able to check before, but getting a closer look, it looks like I was right."

"You know him?" I asked with a quirked brow and Lionel shook his head.

"Not personally but I have heard of him from others who worked on the project to make people like him." Lionel said and gave the blond man a scrutinizing glare. "Considering there was only one real success…Todd, meet Frank Simpson. Officially known as Weapon VII, though the people who worked on him gave him the nickname Scourge."

"Weapon VII?" I blinked in surprise, giving the silent Frank a curious look. "He was part of Weapon Plus?"

"Yes. Like all projects he was meant to be the next way to making Super Soldiers. They went the cyborg route but supposedly scrapped the whole thing when it got too expensive to create and maintain them; even the weaker and slower ones. There were also a lot of compatibility problems. Most of the time, the body would just flat out reject the cybernetics and those that didn't needed a bunch of drugs to exist without immense hormonal imbalance."

Wasn't Wolverine known as Weapon X or something? Wouldn't that make this guy his predecessor or something? That…That sounds pretty major.

Frank's glare shifted to Lionel momentarily at the lore drop before moving back to at me.

"You'e aking a maive mitake."

"Is that right?" I drawled.

"You hae no idea wo you-"

"Clichémooksaywhat?"

"…Wha-"

I slapped more Mucus over Frank's mouth, preventing him from saying the rest of what he wanted. It wasn't like we were going to get anything useful out of him. If he had heat vision, my head would have combusted into flame by how scorching his glare became.

A courtesy searching of his pockets and those of the soldiers didn't net us much else. Other than the standard military grade gear like pistols, assault rifles, grenades (I was keeping a couple of those), body armor, etc. none of the soldiers had personal items hidden away in their pockets. There was no obvious connection to Weapon Plus on their persons that we could find.

What, were you expecting to find a "Welcome to Evil Group number 185" Handbook or something? We're up as it is; let's not press our luck.

Most of Frank's clothes and equipment were shredded beyond repair after our fight. Wrenching the heavily customized desert eagle from his grasp and storing the giant knife away, I applied a bit of my Toxin to the Mucus weakening its firmness just enough to rip the man from the wall without taking a part of it with him.

Every unconscious soldier was stripped of any communication device and I dragged them into the Subject Quarters, throwing them into the cells (I gave Frank his own personal cell) before sealing the door shut with a copious amount of Mucus.

They weren't getting out of there any time soon.

"Probably for the best we don't stick around." I said after the doc took a couple samples from me. Rubbing the place where he drew blood, I sat up in the patient's chair and watched as he brought them over to the lab's computer. "If Weapon Plus did send them here then they're going to notice when they don't report in. A back up team will definitely show up."

And? We'll just kick their asses too. The world ain't ready for the true, and improved Toad!

'Easy there. That kind of thinking is just asking for trouble.' If Weapon Plus learns that not a single member of the team returned then they'll assume whatever they dealt with was beyond their capability to even escape. They'll be cautious. They won't send a weaker or less equipped task force.

Whoever comes next, Weapon Plus will have sent them with the confidence that they'll succeed where Frank and his team failed. Better safe than sorry in that scenario to get out of dodge.

Lionel didn't disagree with that assessment. The older man gave a curt nod before returning to his implements and studying my Rebirth altered genes, my previous DNA already on the screen to use as comparison.

Seeing him so focused, I hopped off the chair and took a long stretch. Bending backwards until the back of my head touched my butt (not much change in terms of flexibility), I righted myself and glanced over to one of the large screens in the lab. It was offline so I saw my reflection in the black screen. I already asked Lionel on how I looked but seeing it firsthand?

On the surface, not much had changed physically. I gained a bit of mass around my shoulder and chest area while growing a couple inches in height. Months of physical conditioning and proper nutrition had allowed me to gain a bit more muscle and with the Rebirth Process, any leftover baby fat was wiped away leaving an utterly chiseled physique.

We got abs! Actual abs!

The biggest changes were the dotted ridges on my upper torso and my eyes.

Beginning at my underjaw, these tiny bumps covered the front of my neck and went down my chest in an almost diamond shape, ending at the top of my navel. The skin where the ridges were was also paler than the rest. It wasn't lost on me how that had been the section to expand when doing my new croaking blast.

Then there were the eyes. Taking a step forward, I stared straight into my reflection's eyes with a long look. A low whistle rang in my subconscious.

Wow. We got some pretty ass eyes now…Never thought that description would ever be used when talking about us.

My former sickly green irises had been replaced by almost glowing emerald ones. Little flakes of black dotted the backdrop of the green and my pupils had changed into pitch black horizontal slits. They were pretty cool, that I couldn't deny.

They were also incredibly obvious. Any person could take one look and immediately pick up on the fact they looked nothing like human eyes with the inhuman glow actually getting brighter when the light hit them just right.

Paradoxically, they shined even harder in the dark.

'That's going to be annoying to hide…' Unless I wore some shades to cover my eyes, going around and talking to people was going to be a pain in the ass. 'Oh well. Scott makes it work; no reason I can't.'

Other than those two things I didn't really look any different. Cracking my neck, I looked to the doc who was deep in his work and got an idea. Grabbing my pants (I was still in my underwear), I quickly put it on while moving towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Seeing my movement, Lionel turned to ask. Not stopping, I gave him a cheeky grin over my shoulder.

"Not far. Since you look busy I thought I'd go for a walk until you're done. While that-" I gestured to the destroyed hallway. "-was very informative, I think a proper test drive is order. I still got a lot to see."

"…Don't go too nuts."

My grin widened at that.
Making sure the door was secure and there were no more surprises in the surroundings, I left the Cathcart facility for the surrounding forest. As promised, I didn't plan to go far. Close enough where I can get back to Lionel very quickly if need be but far enough I can really cut loose.

And I wanted to cut loose. My energy levels were still through the roof from that earlier fight. I hadn't seen the new limits of my enhanced state and learning them was all I could think about.

It was mid-morning when the doc came telling me about his discovery and how we were ready to do a Rebirth. Considering the procedure took just 5 minutes and the whole fight with Frank and his team took even less time than that, the sun was just cresting above the horizon and casting a morning glow across the mountain when I stepped outside.

And it was beautiful. If I thought the cold, dusty lab inside Cathcart was nice to look at upon awakening, then Paradise Peak in the morning was as I returned to the Astral Plane Holly sent me all that time ago.

The rays from the sky pierced through the clouds and littered across the land like golden pillars. The long patches of grass stuck out like seas of green and warm browns. Even the rocks, gray and monotone, glistened in the right light (and to my eyes, they were always in the right light). Looking up at the endless sapphire blue sky, I took a long refreshing breath.

Yeah, yeah. It's all very gorgeous and zen or whatever. Just hurry up so we can get a move on. I wanna see how high we can leap now!

I exhaled softly at Toad's impatience. I couldn't blame him though. I was curious myself. Looking down at my feet, I squared them and got into the same familiar crouch I've done hundreds if not thousands of times before. I took a beat.

The first thing I heard was a muffled bang. I realized a second after I was in the air, after jumping with all my strength, that it was the spot where I had leapt from. The gravel and stone under my feet had been smashed to pieces by the sheer force of my jump.

The wind buffeted my face. The acceleration from my initial jump refused to peter out as I went higher and higher into the sky. The ground got farther and farther away until, finally, gravity retook hold. I reached the peak of my jump.

Then began my downward arc.

"Whoooooaaaaa!"

I cheered up uproariously as I flew down the side of the mountain at breakneck speeds. Countless rocks, wildflower beds and bushes passed under me in a blur. I passed beaten paths and over small canyons like a toad shaped meteor.

Eventually, the downward arc of my jump was also ending, so I braced for my landing.

I almost shouldn't have. I landed on a patch of grass, and besides a sharp jolt shooting up from the bottom of my feet to the rest of my body (which disappeared as quickly as it arrived), there was no other effect. I was unscathed.

The surrounding grass couldn't say the same. My landing kicked up a veritable shower of dirt, grass and stone, scattering the materials in every which way with impunity. Blinking away at the dirt that got lodged in my face, I looked down to see that my landing had caused a large crater.

I looked upward. Seeing Paradise Peak looming high above, my gaze landed on where I leapt from and where the lab was. I did the mental calculations of how far I jumped…and did it twice when I thought it was a mistake.

It wasn't.

Did…D-Did we just go from halfway up the mountain to the very base of it? In one jump?

'Yes.' I thought, equally as flabbergasted. 'Yes, we did…'

Toad had no follow up.

Of course, I knew the curvature of the mountain helped us cover more ground. The downward angle and riding that arc meant I traveled much farther than if I were to have jumped from flat land. I knew that.

…Still.

'That was fucking sick.' I smiled like a child on Christmas morning. Taking another glance up the mountain, I crouched before shooting off with another holler.

I leapt up and down Paradise Peak for the better part of half an hour. I was proven correct in my initial assessment when I tried to see how far I could jump up the mountain and it was far less than the first jump that carried me, though with the added benefit of my landing being much more controllable and not nearly as destructive. My original limit for how far I could jump was a couple dozen feet in a broad jump and maybe 50 or so feet straight into the air.

I was crossing hundreds of feet with a single strong jump and at my highest vertical leap, I could easily reach over a 100 to 150 feet in the air. When I make it back to a city, I would be able to casually scale skyscrapers with just one or two jumps.

Close, tighter jumps were even crazier. Like in the lab I was a blur to the world whenever I jumped to a spot within a dozen feet, the shorter bursts containing enough power to carry me anywhere within that radius in a fraction of a second and my enhanced sight allowing me to move with that kind of speed without experiencing horrible tunnel vision.

Honestly, out of all the things I got from Rebirth, these eyes were quickly becoming my new favorite addition.

They definitely would have been nice to have when facing against Pietro in that sewer. Guarantee that fight would have gone a lot different with these bad boys.

I reached the peak of the mountain in just over 40 high jumps. The peak itself was thousands of feet from sea level and was topped with layers of snow.

I took a breath of the thin chilly air, mindful to take longer breaths to make up for the lack of oxygen. Walking across the snowbank, I spotted a man tall boulder lying off to the side, untouched for who knew how many years at the top of this mountain.

I lashed out with my tongue and it instantly crossed the dozen feet to wrap around the boulder. I became aware of each individual muscle on my tongue, each twitching and straining as I mentally commanded it to lift the boulder. For a moment nothing happened.

The ancient stone made an echoing groan as it was lifted from its spot. Holding what was probably a multi ton hunk of rock aloft in the air, and feeling a mild strain, I generated my Toxin and sent it up the extended appendage.

I watched dispassionately as the boulder melted right down the middle, both pieces falling back to the ground in loud thuds that echoed across the area. My somewhat sore tongue returned to my mouth and I rubbed my chin in thought.

That hadn't been the best experiment when it came to seeing if my Toxin had changed. Even before the procedure my Toxin could melt through things like metal, stone, and even alien materials like nothing. I'd have to find something really resistance to corrosive elements to test it.

At this point, the sun rose above high enough that it reached the top of the peak pushing away the shadows up here and reflecting off the snow, making them appear extra sparkly. I smiled at the sight and closed my eyes basking in the warm rays. Not that I needed to. It wasn't even that cold-

'Wait.' I thought, opening my eyes with a frown. 'I've been up here for a few minutes, shirtless and bare foot at that, but I haven't gotten cold at all.'

It was only than did I realize that I was running hot. I didn't know when but at some point, it felt like someone placed a furnace in my abdomen. There was warmth and it was spreading throughout my body with ease; enough to banish the cold.

At first I thought it was a complication from Rebirth and I was prepared to book it back to Lionel but realized that the heat simmered when I thought about it. Pausing I pressed a hand to my stomach and, after a moment's hesitation, projected the desire for the temperature to rise.

My eyes widened when the heat did so, returning to the original temperature and warming me up. A couple more tests, exerting a level of concentration that was very similar to generating my slimes, I learned the heat can reach a low simmer that made it practically nonexistent and unnoticeable.

While upping the heat actually made my skin warm to the touch, the cold outside unable to faze me, even when a strong wind passed by.

…So you got the power to warm yourself up?…That's cool, I guess…

It was quite a random power to gain. Was there some obscure species of toad that can regulate their own body temperature? I looked my right hand where I sent a portion of the heat (looks like could control that too) and tilted my head curiously when that hand began to lightly steam in the current air but there was no pain.

Oh well. As far as extra esoteric powers went, this wasn't so bad-

My hand lit on fire. Literally.

One second it looked like a regular if greenish arm, the next a plum of emerald and orange tinted flames erupted from it, coating it up to the elbow in a bonfire of eldritch looking fire.

I blinked. I blinked twice. Staring down at the burning limb my mind blanked for a long, long second.

…What the fu-

What the fu-
"…"

"…"

"…Ignite your slime?"

"Yes."

"…Okay." Lionel began diplomatically; his expression hyper focused to make sense of what he just learned. "…Why?"

"It's one of my new abilities. I thought it just made all my slime ignitable now but I tried using regular flames to light some on fire and got nothing there. I'm thinking it's an intent thing and the slime only activates when it's exposed to my body heat raised to a certain level."

"No, I get that part…kind of. Your other power make sense with the context that they're all based on the natural abilities of a toad. Your enhanced sight, your ability to jump very high, your slime and even your croaking sonic wave thing, that's all acceptable…but why can your slime ignite?"

"Perhaps the combination of my peak Human DNA and toad physiology granted another weapon to use against what could be considered a predator to me?"

"…That's not how nature works Todd."

"Yeah. I was talking out of my ass there. I honestly don't know doc; your best guess is as good as mine."

I smiled in amusement at his exasperation as I focused on the road. After returning to the lab after my power test run, the doc had all but begged for a little more time to finish up. Considering everything he's done for me I didn't have it in me to refuse and we ended staying a couple more hours in the facility.

I stayed on high alert on the outside while Lionel finished his work. I didn't want to get caught flat footed if Weapon Plus sent a follow up team. At the first sign of trouble, I was grabbing the older man and hopping for the hills.

Thankfully, he ended up finishing with what he was doing once it hit a little after noon. His bag packed and full of his things, we stood at the entrance of the laboratory. Finding a few more explosives among the soldier's things, we stuck them to the terminals, machines and a couple on the support pillars. Handing Lionel a grenade, the older man took one last look at the lab and the Rebirth Chamber with a stoney expression.

Then he pulled the pin and chucked it inside.

As we walked away, the facility shook as flames and shrapnel exited the lab entrance before the crumbling of earth buried it all with an echoing silence.

And so we left. Leaping down the mountain with Lionel on my back, we got into my truck and drove away from Paradise Peak. We didn't return to Winnemucca, instead going around the small town and heading straight to Reno. It was a couple hours out but neither of us were in a hurry.

The doc had gone quiet after my revelation, choosing to stare out of the window for the remainder of the drive. I entered the city and Lionel asked for me to drop him off somewhere. Obliging without much fanfare, we reached the spot in a short amount of time.

"Are you sure here's okay?" I asked as I slowed to stop on a mostly empty street, to our immediate left was a crosswalk leading to a train station. "I can bring you somewhere farther you know. I got nowhere to be."

"Thank you for the offer…but this is fine. It'll be enough to take me where I need to go."

Lionel said this in a strange tone and I glanced at the older man to see that he was staring off into space, not even looking to the train station. My prepared goodbye dying on my tongue at his expression.

"So." I said instead, palming my steering wheel. "What do you plan to do next?"

Lionel didn't answer at first. Continuing to stare off into the distance, I was going to ask my question again, thinking he didn't hear me.

Then he leaned down. Opening his bag at his foot he delicately grabbed something and slowly held it up.

It was a vial. A small, clear vial full of a greenish blue liquid held between his pointer finger and his thumb. I looked to it, then to Lionel. I did this a few more times.

"…And what is that?" I finally asked and Lionel's expression became full of melancholy.

"The key." He said cryptically, before snorting softly. "It's funny. I never expected to be able to synthesize it so quickly…but I guess that's just the thing about answers. Once you have them, everything else just clicks into place."

I'm lost.

So was I…Waiting a little longer, my patience was rewarded when Lionel continued.

"It's the key Todd. To making Rebirth work. Inside this little vial holds the path to the future. With it, humanity can finally take that next step in the evolutionary ladder. Everyone better, stronger. Healthier. With this a person can survive the Rebirth Procedure…That, or it could be used to stabilize the process already done to a good innocent man, who sacrificed whatever time he had left to do the right thing."

……

D-Did he just-

"Doc." I ignored the pounding of my heart at the reveal and stared straight at the older man. "Are you sure about this? A 100 percent sure?"

"That's the thing Todd. I haven't been sure about anything for a very, very long time." Lionel admitted with a forlorn face. "But this? I have not a doubt in my mind...I've forgotten what that feels like."

I leaned back in my seat at that, the confidence in his voice surprising me. Nearly as much as the unspoken plan he was clearly brewing. I looked between the vial and the doc a couple more times.

"…How are you going to do it then?" I eventually asked. "Are you going to get in contact with Shield?"

"Hell no." He said with a snarl. "After everything they've done? Everything they let happen? No. No I don't trust them with this. They're just as likely to tamper with it and mess something up than get it to where it belongs."

"Then…how?"

"I'll figure something out."

"Figure something out? Doc, it won't be as simple as you entering where they're keeping him and jamming a dormant super soldier with that vial. You won't even get close. It's suic-"

A hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked up to see Lionel holding onto me…and became stunned at the soft, completely free of guilt smile on his face.

"It's fine Todd. Let this old man worry about the details. You got what you wanted; we're even. There's no need to stress yourself about this anymore. And you've done more than enough to deserve that much." He said, letting go of my shoulder and leaned back in his seat with that same smile. "Thank you."

"…For what?" I asked lowly and his smile got a little wider.

"For everything. My whole life, I thought my penance was to rot away somewhere, alone and afraid in some forgotten corner of the world. I thought that's what I deserved. You taught me that wasn't true. Absolution…it doesn't come for those who do nothing. It only responds to action. So, thank you. For allowing a worthless old man the chance to take that action."

I was utterly tongued tied as Lionel gathered his things, gave me a pat on the shoulder and exited his side. Standing at the open door, he leaned down to give me one last smile.

"I'm glad I got to meet you, Todd Tolansky."

He closed it after that, and I watched through the window as he walked to the train station, his head held higher than I've ever seen it. Lionel always seemed to walk with a drag to his feet like something was weighing them down. It was almost unnatural to see him move so smoothly and with such ease.

And so I sat there. Watching as Lionel walked to the train station with purposeful steps, his back straight as

I didn't move.

…Oh just go ahead already. Sappy bitches I swear...

I placed the truck in drive and roughly turned the wheel. Doing a quick U turn on the wide main street, going over the sidewalk in the middle to reach him, Lionel turned around with a flinch as I stopped the truck right next to him.

He looked at me with wide eyes when I opened the passenger side door.

"Tod-"

"Get in." I said, cutting him off. "I'm going to help you."

He fell silent at that, staring at the open door and seat for a long second before responding with-

"Why?"

Why? In the moment, I had many answers to that, some I wasn't fully confident on. Maybe the thought of allowing the old man to go on what was essentially a suicide mission by himself didn't quite sit right with me. Maybe I wanted the glory of helping cure the first Super Soldier and being the catalyst for Captain America returning to the world. Maybe I had nothing else going on.

Or maybe, just maybe, his speech on absolution hit harder than expected. Ever since I came this universe and got my powers, most if not all of my actions were done with selfish intent behind them. I haven't made a truly honest, selfless decision with any of my superhuman abilities, and perhaps this would be a good first thing to do after going through Rebirth. To start at least.

Perhaps none of those were true. Perhaps they all were. I wasn't really sure.

There was one thing however, I was confident was true.

"Because. You were wrong." I said with the straightest of faces…before making a long, wide grin. "You said we were even. We're not. I got way more out of this little deal than you…And I don't like leaving a friend hanging."

His face went blank at the claim, before he steeled his expression and gave a nod. Without another word Lionel entered the truck, slamming the door behind him with finality. He looked to me as I pulled the truck away and down the road.

"It'll be dangerous." Lionel warned, to which I gave a laugh.

"That's my secret doc." I said with a grin full of teeth. "I'm always in danger."

Giving an amused smile at that, I followed his directions to our next stop, a highway that I can take up to Alaska. Apparently, the location of the frozen captain himself was not as secret as I once thought. Better for us I suppose.

I pressed on the gas.

Time to go wake up a Legend.
A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you all, the Super Toad! I was worried of making him too strong but in the Marvel universe, this advancement still doesn't let Toad break into the true heavy weights. Barely even in the middle weights. There's still plenty of people that could kick Toad's ass if he isn't careful so I went a little ham.

In essence, and in order, this is the list of new stuff Toad got (for those who want an easier spread):

  • Super Soldier Vision + Toad Eyes = Enhanced Perception/Night vision, 4k resolution, Superhuman Movement Processing
  • Greater Strength, Speed, Durability, and Senses (Smell, Taste, Hearing, and Touch)
  • Sonic Croak
  • Ignition Slime
  • Longevity (he's not aware of it now since there's no real way to test that)
I erred on the side of caution from giving him too many abilities that were different from his main continuity. The Sonic croak is the only ability that isn't canon to any other version of Toad, which is weird as fuck considering that's the main thing anyone knows from toads. In the main universe the closest thing he had was a wind breath that can knock Wolverine on his ass. Impressive, but not very toad like.

Also yes, the Ignition Slime thing is a real ability the main toad has. It doesn't make much sense to me either.

I hope you enjoyed!
 
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Thanks for another chapter, the ignition slime took me completely off gaurd tho lol
Tho I suppose despite many mutants having themes it's not like they always stay to that theme completely
 
Nicohals J Westerberg said:
Thanks for another chapter, the ignition slime took me completely off gaurd tho lol
Tho I suppose despite many mutants having themes it's not like they always stay to that theme completely
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
It was pretty weird for me too when I found to find out that's an ability the main Toad has in his universe. Lionel's reaction was honestly my own to that knowledge 😂
 
Chapter 21: Just Hopping Through
Chapter 21: Just Hopping Through​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.
4 Days Later, Prospect Creek

Whenever I thought about Alaska, I was thought about endless rolling hills of tall trees, towering mountains and snow covering every inch as far as the eye could see. A land of big, furred animals meant to survive such an arctic wonderland.

In the dead of summer of the early 2000s, in what was supposedly one of the coldest regions in the state due to its location, the weather was a lot warmer than I was expecting. Chilly but not enough to warrant true worry, more like a cool spring day that would be enjoyed with a light sweater.

The sun wasn't covered in dense gloomy clouds and snowy blizzards. It actually blanketed the region in warming rays, shining through the thick forest canopies to illuminate the ground below. Larger animals like brown bears and moose roamed grass fields that gently swayed in the wind.

There was barely any snowfall to be found. Within the very few places that did, higher up in the mountains and among the perpetually cold heights no matter the season, the maximum height was at best a couple inches. Barely enough to reach above the ankle and made wearing heavy boot a formality rather than a hard requirement.

It was bullshit.

…I feel like you're going off on a weird tangent here. I don't think it really matters that much.

'You're probably right.' Still felt like a cop out though. 'And here I bought this stupid coat because I didn't want to stick out. Which makes it even dumber since I don't need due to my heat regulation.' What horse shit.

I wasn't actually mad. Really. I was just a little tired of going to places and somehow always being met with the opposite of what I expected. It's like the universe was trying to tell something.

…Nah.

The tree tops shook as I blurred through the area in a burst of speed. Whatever animals were grazing or going about their business below scattered seconds long after I had already passed, each leapt I took taking me to the next branch dozens of trees away.

It took a minute at the beginning to gain a sense of rhythm that didn't just have me snapping whichever branch I chose as my launch pad. Even worse when I miscalculated how hard my landings would be and just blasted through trees like a wrecking ball. Climbing up and down a mountain with solid rock as my ground lured me into a false sense of control.

I eventually got to a reasonable level of strength that took me from branch to branch without compromising my footing. It wasn't the farthest I could go in a single bound but it was still leagues beyond what my pre-Rebirth self could accomplish.

The world slowed at each long lunge I took across a large clearing to another tree far away and over wide rivers, my eyes taking in every detail. Every strange formation in the deeper woods that wasn't a big rock or tipped over tree. Every mountain that had an oddly clear path up that wasn't caused by natural erosion.

Landing on a high branch, near soundless and without disturbing a single leaf (I was pretty proud of that), I crouched down and took out a map of the local region. A large red circle was highlighted around a specific area.

Taking out a marker, I drew a small a squiggle that loosely represented my pathing for the past hour. Something I've done for a portion of the other areas and was using that metric to slowly narrow down my target.

I already knew what I was looking for, and Lionel had a loose approximation from memory but I was still sent to double check and mark an exact location.

The fact Lionel had once visited the facility where Shield kept Captain America wasn't as surprising as it probably should have been. He admitted it was only twice in his lifetime. Once when he was a young boy and after his first year working under his father. The second time a man in his late 30s, jaded and tired and looking for spiritual answers when he still had hope.

Both times were in this general vicinity. The top-secret nature of the facility meant he was escorted in a heavily armored aircraft and prevented from seeing out the window but there was only so much they could do to fully hide the region they landed on and distinctive surroundings, especially when the visitor is a well trusted scientist working on making more people like the guy.

Pretty sloppy if you ask me. What if Lionel defected to some shady organization, sold out the Captain's location so they can nab him and dissect his body to discover the secret to why he lasted so long? It would have been a tragedy!

'…Considering he literally never did that, and is actively working to heal him, I think they knew what they were doing. Security wise anyway.'

Oi! Don't you staring using logic now! That just sucks all the fun out it.

There was also the non-insignificant chance they moved Rogers somewhere else after all this time. It would be a simple thing to do and would keep the knowledge of his location a better kept secret if he's constantly being shifted around the world.

I didn't mention that possibility to the doc (he already had a lot on his mind) but it was likely the idea crossed his mind once or twice. Odds are, he's hoping the location hasn't changed. If it did, then we'd need to start improvising. And fast.

Shaking my head of the worst possible outcome, I placed away the map and continued my search.

Leaping up and down the mountains to get better visibility, checking every deep valley and gathering of trees that went for miles, following the flowing rivers to where they ended far below the sea level and disappeared into the distance towards the ocean.

It was after 3 hours of searching, when I had scoped the entirety of the creek and even went back to check the places I already passed, did something catch my eye.

It was a glint really. A passing flash. If it weren't for my enhanced vision, I would have never noticed it amidst the backdrop of browns, green and whites.

Stopping atop a high branch, I scanned the area where the glint originated. Slowly crawling around the side of the tree to get a better position, I quickly hid when the glint flashed against, realizing it was coming from a glass surface reflecting the sunlight.

I didn't know what the little watchtower, camouflaged quite well in the leaves and with black tinted glass, was doing out here but it was safe to say it was for an important reason. It looked pretty fortified and maintained. A shame my new vision didn't allow the heat detecting feature to pierce through solid objects.

Oh yes, because super-duper toad eyes that can track bullets, see in infrared and have night vision just aren't enough. Ughh. Your greed sickens me.

Quietly making a wide loop around the watch station to get into its blind spot, though it was a little hard when the glass nearly went a whole 360 degrees. While I didn't know which direction exactly was its "front" view, I did go in the direction where there more trees and the ground sloped downward. I grew more confident when I saw another watchtower a couple hundred feet further in and even a couple cameras (I made sure to take extra care going through the area at the first sign of them).

And there, where the forest ended and at the very base where the mountain began, was a very well-hidden path connected to a wide hanger built into the rock.

I smiled at the slightly faded eagle symbol on the cold steel door.
I landed on the ground with a muffled bang, dirt and loose pebbles scattering on impact to the side. I stood to my full height and marched up the stone walkway to an old wooden cabin. Nestled deep within the rolling hills east of the creek, the cabin overlooked a small lake that didn't appear on any maps and had no other neighbors save for an outhouse on the perimeter of the clearing. The nearest form of civilization was a few hours' drive northwest, to a town that was more of a settlement than a dedicated place of residence.

A perfect place to get away from the myriad chaos the outside world could offer.

The front door opened with a creaking groan. Stepping into the recently cleaned interior, I moved past an aged living room with couches, chairs and tables that looked like they haven't seen use in over a decade and towards an open door in the back.

The room beyond was cluttered in a much more lived in fashion. Papers and boxes were strung across a bed covering every inch held down with pens or heavy objects so the wind from the partially ajar window wouldn't send them flying. The walls themselves were covered in maps of the surrounding region, certain sections marked in circles and written with words legible only to the one who wrote them.

My duffle bags and alien rifles were leaning against a desk that Lionel was working at, the doc's hunched form facing away from the door. Seeing that he didn't hear my arrival past his faint muttering (we needed to work on that) I stepped back into the living room and entered the kitchen.

Spending a couple minutes making a patch of hot cocoa (it still astounded me that this place had clean running water and electricity), I poured two cups and grabbed a loaf of bread to bring with me.

Lionel was still hunched over when I reentered the room, heavily focused on whatever he was working on. As I came up next to him, I saw that he was finicking with some device that looked like an insulin pen, the glass party empty of any liquid.

He raised his head when I purposely stepped harder than strictly necessary and succeeded in getting his attention without spooking the old man.

"Oh, you're back. How was the search?" He asked and perked up when I held out one of the cups to him. He gently took it, cooling the hot cocoa with a couple of blows before taking a small sip. "Thank you."

"No problem." I said after taking a sip of my own cup and letting loose a breath. "And the search went well. I found the base."

"Truly?"

"Unless there's another Shield facility here for a completely different, then odds are it was the one." I snorted, taking out the map and handing it over to an excited Lionel. I sat on a corner of the bed atop some papers as he looked at the spot where I marked the facility, standing shortly after to walk towards the wall.

He looked between the maps on the wall and the one he was holding, mentally tracking something along the graphs and lines. He jotted an X on one of the maps depicting Prospect Creek.

Taking a step back, he asked me a few questions on how it looked and nodded along as I gave a description of the vault door, the watchtowers and how it was built into the mountain.

"Yes. That…that sounds like how I remembered it." Lionel said in a wistful tone. "Both times I went it was in a Shield aircraft; arriving and leaving. I never saw any other structure before entering the base. They cited it was for security reasons."

"Makes sense. It's far away any of the main roads and in the center of miles more rough terrain. Even for me, it took half an hour going at a fast pace to get back here. Anyone else taking the scenic route would take days. And that's with the knowledge on where the base is and with whatever supplies they could carry. No car will be able to get through all that."

And with how isolated it is, besides a lucky camper, the odds of anyone seeing a helicopter flying through the sky is pretty low. Do you think they make the trip often?

Possibly. Lionel admitted he didn't know a lot about the logistics of running a facility of that size. The last time he went he was brought into the base's ground floor, signing in and going through a body check before being lead down 4 flights of stairs through heavily fortified doors. Each one requiring his armed guard to input a code and gain clearance over the radio.

Sounds like they treated the place like Fort fucking Knox (though I guess I couldn't be mad, considering what they're guarding).

"I saw a lot of guards and a couple men in uniforms moving about the facility as I walked through. I don't know the exact number but even a small crew requires a constant flow of resources and the like to stay functioning, right?"

"I would assume so." People needed to eat, even secretive government stooges. "What's the nearest town to this place?"

"Depends on what you consider a town." The doc murmured and pointed to a dot way due South. "Distance wise and with an actual population density beyond a couple hundred people? The closest is Fairbank, which we passed on the way here. Directly next to that site? I believe that is…Coldfoot. It's mostly a truck spot since there's no other true services until Prudhoe Bay, an oilfield hub 240 miles away. There's about 30 people living in Coldfoot."

"30?"

"Welcome to Alaska Todd." He smiled wryly at my stunned expression. "The barren snow waste of America."

What do they even do so far out in the middle of nowhere? Hunt and fish for their food? What about entertainment? The most they probably got is making snow angels, building log cabins and climbing trees for fun…You know on the second thought-

I grimaced when Lionel revealed the closest other "town" was a former mining village that dried up in the early 1970s and what remained were those too displaced to go anywhere. It had like 18 people.

Finding someone who has potentially seen the "supposed" regular trips Shield makes to the base was out; that was less a needle in a haystack and more of an imaginary fish in a dark lake. We just didn't have enough information.

We went back to the drawing board. We at least had a definite location and maybe a point of entry. The doc asked about my approach and grew surprised when learning that there had been no reaction when I hid in the surroundings for a couple minutes before heading back here.

"None whatsoever?"

"Not that I could tell." I said at his question. "But that could mean a lot of things. If they did spot me than perhaps they have standing orders to not engage directly with unknown persons and to report it to HQ so back up can arrive. If they didn't then we still have the element of surprise on our side. It could also mean it's empty but it didn't look abandoned. Not like how Cathcart looked."

"What about early warning systems? Cameras? Thermal sensors?"

"I saw a couple the cameras and avoided them the best I could. If there were also heat sensors than I think I'm still in the clear." I elaborated after gaining a curious look from Lionel. "It involves the temperature regulation ability I got. When I control the temperature, I can choose to make it go hot enough to ignite my slimes but it can also go cold enough to make me invisible to anything that can pick up body heat."

I found that one out of the nights we were driving up here. With my eyes able to see heat signatures, I noticed how the aura around my body disappeared when I lowered the heat in my core to near nothing.

I hadn't noticed that neat little feature in the moment because, you know, my hand caught on fire. Lionel grew contemplative at that before ultimately shaking his head.

"Still. As useful as that is, the cameras inside will be far harder to get past without being seen. The halls are too narrow and guarded by live soldiers. Not to mention you'll be stopped by the fortified doors."

"I can probably bust my way through them." I shrugged. "Given enough time that is."

"L-Let's call that Plan E." Lionel said with a startled expression and raised his hands. "We should still try to go for a stealthy approach if we can help it."

I waved my hand in a "as you wish" manner and went about ripping up pieces of my loaf, dipping the pieces into my cocoa. I idly ate the soaked bread and drank as we brainstormed a bit more. I thought about investigating those watchtowers, staking them out until an agent exited them (I imagine there had to be a rotation system in place) to interrogate them for information but that was vetoed by the doc. He reasoned they were still civil servants doing a noble task and shouldn't be unreasonably harmed.

Lionel suggested taking a few days to wait in the relative vicinity of the base and see if the helicopter arrives for resupply. The issue with that plan looped back to the fact that we didn't actually know if things are done that way. For all we know, Shield had a teleporter or something in the facility (which opened up a whole new set of problems) and they stopped that way of resupplying years ago.

That or the helicopter can turn invisible. While it wouldn't be a problem for me, it still didn't leave us many options to work with save using the moment to bum rush the gate.

We spent the next hour bouncing ideas back and forth, vetoing ones that would constitute to much action in the form of busting heads or ones that we couldn't rely on being accurate with what we already knew (which wasn't a lot).

Would be nice to call in some backup for this.

'Would be, but we're not exactly flush with options.' The Rising Sons were currently busy back in Miami dealing with Orchis for all the bullshit they put Callum and Nadya through and this mission wasn't exactly up the Brotherhood's alley (not that I would ever willingly risk Mystique or Pietro learning what we were doing up here).

With Lionel also writing off going straight to Nick Fury, we were on our own.

Well…There's always-

'No.' I shot the implied option immediately and Toad groaned.

Oh come on! This is kind of thing is exactly what the X-Dorks constantly drone about. I'm still surprised this landed on our lap rather than theirs. Can't we just dump this at their feet and keep it moving?

'…Ignoring the fact that Lionel has no real relationship or reason to trust them-

We could vouch for them.

'We could.' Which he might even listen to because our newly founded friendship, but I trusted the X-Men to handle this subtly as much as I trusted a bull with IED going fine China shopping. After everything that happened with Trask and the Sentinel nonsense, I know gained some goodwill with them. 'High chance they take me at my word and use their combined prowess to bust into the base and cure Rogers. In record time at that.'

But I doubt that goodwill would save me from some uncomfortable questions.

The top question going a bit something like, "Hey Toad, long time no see! Man, we almost didn't recognize you! Did you get a ne-Why are your eyes glowing?"

I could imagine how most of them would react.

Xavier in the show already had reservations about the Rebirth Process and the "Master Race" implications it brought. Beast in another universe (I couldn't remember if it was the same in this one) tried to reverse his budding beastlike features and instead sped up the shift for his troubles; he most likely wouldn't be a fan. Scott had a first-hand experience with purposeful genetic enhancement via Magneto's Cyttorak Machine and nearly lost himself.

Logan would definitely take exception to the fact I used Rebirth on myself. No way he wouldn't. The centuries old Mutant was opinionated in a good iteration and this hit too close to home for him.

And this was all before taking into account that their actions, in some way, somehow, will come back to bite me in the ass. Even if I just pointed them in the general direction of our goal. Even if I wasn't involved in the planning; somehow this will be a recurring issue for future Todd. I'd bet my left nutsack on it.

If that was the case, then we might as well just do it ourselves. At least I won't be nearly as pissed then.

…Do you really think they'll force us to reverse what we did?

'…No.' No, I didn't. All of my reservations on working with them aside, I don't think they'll force the issue, ignoring my wishes and consent on the matter. It just wasn't their style. 'Still would prefer to keep them out of this. More for my own sanity than anything else.'

…

You knew it was a truly strange day when Toad became the (silent) departed voice of reason. Exhaling softly through my nose, I dipped my head.

'If we have no real other option, or viable plan, then we'll hit up Fred or Wanda and use them to get in contact with Tabitha, or Rogue. Then we'll take it from there. Happy?'

Just wanted to keep our options open man.

Quietly nodding at that, I glanced over to Lionel facing the wall of map. The doc was deep in thought as he traced along the corners of the mountains where the base was, trying to piece together something but I couldn't tell what. I just followed his finger as it moved about the-

"Wait." I sat up, my mouth full of bread. Swallowing the piece in a one gulp, I pointed to the various marks around the base. "What are those?"

"These are old settlements scattered across the region that have long abandoned when the associated mining expedition dried up; mainly focused on harvesting quartz and gold. The latter was greatly abundant in the land and why it was originally named Prospect Creek. Nowadays most workers who come in and through are focused maintaining on the Alaska Pipeline or Dalton Highway." Lionel gave the spontaneous lesson, to which I wordlessly stared at him for a second.

"…Right. So, these expeditions were conducted pretty everywhere in this region, right? Dug at different levels and left alone for years?"

"Yeah, just about…"

Finishing the rest of my bread, I placed my cup down and came up next to a curious doc. I scanned the expedition sites around the base, ones Lionel marked due to their proximity or just because they were already on the maps he had, but all that was labeled were the names; no other specifics were given.

"Do you have maps of the tunnel systems?" He blinked at the question before glancing at the boxes on the side.

"Not really."

"Do you know where we could find that information?"

"Off the top of my head? There's probably a library in Fairbanks with the public records of such digs. Even the most ambitious and greedy miners had to follow the local government's regulations when it came to doing expeditions in such a dangerous and cold environment. It should be documented somewhere." He explained and tilted his head. "Why? You got an idea?"

"The makings of one…"

That was enough for him. Quickly finishing his drink and pocketing the thing he was working on earlier (along with his journal), we hopped into the truck parked outside on the driveway and headed off.

The sheer size of Alaska and its barren nature was once again highlighted to me as the drive from where we in Prospect Creek to Fairbanks took close to 5 hours, with most of what we saw being endless seas of trees and mountains. Getting here from Nevada took nearly 3 days and even then, that felt shorter somehow (I think it was the changing terrain keeping things interesting as drove through multiple states).

Fairbanks status as the second largest city in the state meant we didn't turn any heads as we arrived, easily slipping into the crowded streets and moving cars. It took a bit of searching, Lionel asking for distractions through the window until we found what we needed.

I parked the truck in front of a short, government building. It was supposedly something of a public archive for the city, and a lot of the state. Seeing that it wasn't that busy, Lionel and I both prepared to go in. Unbuckling our seatbelts and grabbing our things, I popped open the glove compartment for the finishing touch.

The world became tinted a slight black when I put them on. Nothing to really hamper my ability to see and interact with the world, but from the opposite side, the reflection made my eyes nearly impossible to see. Which was the goal.

"Eh? Eh?" I turned to Lionel and showed them off, outstretching my hands. "What do you think?"

"…You look good." The doc said with an amused smile at my excitement and my grin widened.

"Damn right."

The black aviator sunglasses fit snuggly on the bridge of my nose, the orange rims and earpieces giving them a splash of character (in my humble opinion).

More importantly though, my new glowing peepers weren't immediately visible through the lenses and let everyone within eye shot know that I was rocking otherworldly features. Sure, a moment where the light hits them directly or it growing dark enough that their natural shine would overpower the lenses would bring me back to square one, but until then?

Lionel and I walked into the archive building without drawing any attention. Asking a grumpy old lady at the front desk for instructions on the old dig sites in their records she pointed us to a spot on the second floor for them.

The fact they had a whole section dedicated just for these records nailed home how seriously they took mining back in the day.

And how many people came here for that very reason. Lionel and I looked to the rows upon rows of files, documents and other books talking about the dozens if not hundreds of expeditions dating back to the early 1950s. We locked eyes.

We split off to begin our search. I sped read through a lot of the journals and official books on the many different groups and families that set up camps across the state, narrowing down the area to just Prospect Creek. Lionel took what I found and began separating them by time period, when they abandoned it and depth.

In the grand scheme of things, it didn't actually take all that long to get through it all. The organization system was decent enough and before long, we zeroed in on a select few expedition sites. Some of which had very detailed illustrations of the tunnels they dug.

"Well I'll be damned…" I said lowly as Lionel set out on map in particular. It was a series of tunnels leading deep into the earth, branching out in multiple directions and with countless more pockets of natural caverns exposed. It was created in the early 1980s and left to rot in the mid 1990s.

And it was right across from the Shield base.

"Looks like we found our way in."

"…How?" Lionel asked in an incredulous tone. "Todd, the lowest point they dug to was a couple hundred feet deep. Impressive for sure but even the closest section is still 600 meters away from the edge of the base. Perhaps there's a cave system that connects to the base but that's just wishful thinking."

"We don't need to hope for a cave system. At 400 feet into the earth, the lowest point of the tunnels most likely surpasses the base's depth of only 5 floors. They did keep the Captain at the bottom, right?"

"I mean, I assumed so. They never brought me to another floor past him, nor did a see a stairway leading down like the rest. As for the size…I guess the floors weren't massive? Perhaps 10, 15 feet in height to the ceiling?"

"You confident on that?" I asked and he rapidly shook his head.

"Not at all! It wasn't something that really caught my attention when I went there, it didn't matter to me." Lionel explained and shook his head. "Regardless, even if the tunnels reach deeper than the base, why is that important? There's still the distance to worry about. What, are you going dig the rest of the way there?"

"…Not dig."

I gave Lionel a look. He gave me a very confused one back.

…Oh…Oh that's so dumb.

I gave a small grin.
In the bowels of an expansive mining network of dusty and freezing tunnels, the ceiling low to the point a grown man would have to hunch to get through, an intense hissing sound reverberated across the stone walls held up by old rickety wooden beams. Multiple levels below and roughly 300 feet into the earth, I faced the eastern direction as I worked.

Taking in a breath through the scarf covering my mouth, I placed a hand on the rock in front of me and a little above my head.

Black smoke flooded the space as my Toxin burned against the solid rock, minerals and dirt. The sizzling lasted for a few seconds, the natural elements resisting the voracious substance but eventually gave way to it, dissolving into sludge that pooled at my feet. By the time the Toxin's potency ran its course and finished trickling down to the floor, a foot or so of the wall was gone.

Revealing a mundane wall of stone and dirt behind it. I took another breath.

Then I did the same to that wall. And to the foot of earth behind it. And the one after that.

I got into something of rhythm an hour after of doing this. Each generation of Toxin I created came smoother than the last but placed an increased ache in my body as time went on.

Minuscule at first admittedly before it became something that I needed to take a second to prep myself. If I had tried to generate this much Toxin before Rebirth, I would have ended up on the floor and sleeping off the migraine soon to follow the whole night.

Granted, it had become much easier to do so since the days of Bayville when I first discovered it, but even then I would have never been able to go for as long as I did now. By the 3-hour mark there was a heavy pressure building in my chest as I willed more to be created and melted the next foot.

Huffing slightly, I stopped as the next section burned away and looked back to my handiwork.

The freshly carved tunnel 2 and a half feet wide and 6 tall went on for hundreds of feet, splitting off from the Beton Mining Tunnels (the name of the abandoned mine) around its 6th​ level. The walls and ceiling were blackened to an almost charred color; an aftereffect of being burned by my Toxin.

The floor itself was a long, lone carpet of the dark sludge cooling and creating an uneven lumpy walkway. At every 10 or so feet, both as indictors and to ask as supports for the ceiling, there were rings of my hardened Mucus. Using them as a metric I had made it about 700 or so feet.

It genuinely annoys me how well this is working. Like…what the fuck.

I generated a good amount of Mucus and smeared it in a ring where I stood, the strain far less that time. Once it was properly applied I touched the substance and sent a pulse of heat from my gut to my hand, rapidly elevating the temperature there.

It was interesting. In comparison to my regular slime that ignited into bright emerald, orange flames and my Toxin doing much the same, though instead of orange there were darker, almost malevolent streaks of purple in the green, my Mucus didn't create any flames when exposed to my body heat.

Instead, the heat greatly sped up the rate at which the Mucus hardened. Alone it took a couple seconds to reach the new concrete like state while exposure to heat hardened it to that point instantly.

It was fascinating. I discovered those little tidbits during the few breaks Lionel and I took driving up to Alaska. Once I had the time later, I planned to experiment with these flames more.

For now though I ended up naming the different ignitions Bogfire (Toxin) and Marshfire (regular slime).

Still think we should have gone with Swampfire instead of Bogfire. Catchier in my opinion.

'If you say so.' I thought as I took a swig of my water and sat on the ground, taking a break from the "digging". Lionel (after getting his mind around my inane plan) helped me calculate the exact spot in the mine that was the best to begin melting my way to the base. At my current depth I should, in theory, eventually hit either the 4th​ or 5th​ floor.

After resting for 20 or so minutes, waiting for the soreness in my chest to lessen to a manageable level, I continued. Splash after splash melted down everything in my way, getting me closer and closer to my goal.

I always thought it was pretty ridiculous just how voracious my Toxin was in comparison to an actual toad's natural equivalent, but now more than ever was I glad to have it.

I went for another 2 hours and reached the 1,300 or so foot mark before stopping. If I was truly going at the right angle and level, I didn't want to arrive quite yet. Definitely not when I was exhausted from producing so much Toxin and wasn't fully read,

Not to mention we still don't exactly know where we'll pop up. We could easily arrive in the middle of a random hall when a bunch of soldiers are passing by and ruin any chance of stealth from the get-go.

Leaving it like that for now, I moved through the tunnels and exited from the dilapidated entrance, taking in a long inhale of the fresh cool night air. Coated in soot and dust, I hopped back to the cabin for a nice hot shower.

When I was done cleaning up, I exited the bathroom to see Lionel had come out of his room and was sitting in the living room. The older man was fiddling with the insulin pen device while his notebook was open on the coffee table. He turned his head my approached.

"Did it work?" He asked and I sat with a blissful groan.

"Better than I could have wished."

Seriously. It shouldn't have been working that well.

"If we got things right, then I'm set to hit the bottom of the base with no one the wiser. And unless they used something incredibly unreasonable like Adamantium or Vibranium as the building material, then I should be able to get inside without much issue. It'll still be a hit or miss depending on where I end up but it's infinitely better than going through the front and I'll have an exit in place. Everything should be simple after that." I said before giving an overly dramatic sigh of regret. "It's just a shame that I have to get in, do what needs doing and bounce before taking any credit. I was planning to ride the high of saving the Captain America and bragging to everyone I know for years."

"I'm sorry." Lionel said with genuine remorse to which I waved my hand.

"I'm kidding. It doesn't really matter that much to me." While it sucked it had to be that way, he was the one to request it. He apparently wasn't comfortable being in the limelight if such a thing became public; not with all the things he's done and other personal reasons. "I came here to help you doc. This is your plan in the first place. I'll just follow your lead."

There goes using that fact to pick up chicks though. Now I just got my roguish toad looks and glowing personality to work with.

Talk about an uphill battle.

'…'

Yes, I know I just insulted myself. I was a dick, but I wasn't delusional.

Lionel lowered his head after that. He idly turned the device in his hand and I titled my head at the shadowed expression over his face, a heaviness very similar to when I first met him.

"You don't seem that excited about it." I pointed out. "We're about to make history here; right a great wrong that, in theory, should usher in a new chapter that will right many more for Earth." And I wasn't exaggerating either. This was Steve Rogers after all. He bound to turn the world on its axis for the better the moment he was cured and free. It was practically a universal constant (in the vast majority of cases). "I thought you'd be happier."

"I am." Lionel said lowly, still staring down at the device. "I would have never expected it to happen without your help, and not nearly so soon. I am happy…I just never planned about what I'd do after this."

The way he said that, the strange affliction in his voice would have tipped me off something was wrong. It should have surprised me…but I already had an idea.

"Lionel." I started and sat up in my chair to give him a piercing look. "How did you see this ending, if I wasn't here to help you?"

He didn't answer for a second. Then his eyes hardened, and he spoke with striking conviction.

"I would have done everything in power to make sure this cure got to him. That, I swear on my life."

The absence of anything after was echoing in the quiet cabin. Seems my initial label of it being a suicide mission was more on the nose than I originally thought…

Seeing Lionel sit there, appearing older than before despite just a scant few days having gone by, I rolled my jaw as I brainstormed what I could say while caught in this revelation.

Something came.

"Your daughter." I said, fully grabbing his attention. "You said you have one."

"…I do."

"And a granddaughter. It sounded like you loved them a lot. When the last time you saw them?"

"10 years. I know what you're doing."

"Oh good. Because I fucking suck at this." I sighed in relief, throwing Lionel off. I continued anyway. "Once this is over, you should go see them."

"I…I can't." He said looking away in partial shame.

"Why not?" I asked, undaunted.

"It's complicated."

"It always is. Do they know why it's complicated?"

"…No."

"Then go and explain why."

"They wouldn't understa-"

I moved on pure impulse. Lionel didn't even have time to blink as I reached out and lightly, very lightly…flicked him on the forehead with my middle finger.

It had as much force as a baby slapping a martial artist. Practically nothing and stretched the limits of how well I could hold back my recently enhanced strength.

Lionel reacted like I sucker punched him, whipping his head backward and staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. We sat in stunned silence for a couple seconds before he finally reacted.

"Did…D-Did you just flick me?"

"Yes." I admitted freely.

"…Why?"

"Because. You were about to give the same reason for not talking to your kids like a normal human being that every, every other god damn fucking failure of a parent has given. Every single one." I've met too fucking many since coming to this world. "I like you Lionel, so let give you some advice."

I didn't mean to come off so aggressive but here we were. I was going to run with it. The doc just nodded slowly and I took a breath.

"Whether your daughter and granddaughter accept why you left and didn't keep in contact or not, it's not up to you to decide if they will understand it. It's up to them. Your job is just to deliver the explanation."

"It was for their own good." Lionel argued.

"I'm glad that's where your mind was. They still deserve to know. And if you truly cared about them, you'd do it. It doesn't matter if they get mad at you, or yell at you, hug you, hit you, hell maybe even laugh it all off and thing it's no big deal, you do it. Because they're owed that much. You do it for them, not for yourself."

"…You make it sound so simple."

"Simple? I want to say it's not even simple. I want to say it's the very basics…But I guess if that was true, then wouldn't be so many asshole parents running around here. So sure, it's not simple. It's not easy…but you perfected a procedure that can help an entire race in a single week and save a frozen legend from certain death. So not being an asshole parent should be a breeze for you."

Lionel fell silent as I patted him on the back and stood up after saying my piece. Standing over the thinking Lionel, I looked at the device in his hands.

"How long until it's finished?" I asked and the doc stared down at it for a moment, then surprised me when he held it out.

"It's been ready for 2 days now." He admitted. "I just wanted to be completely sure there was no problem with it…There's not."

Gently taking the device, I palmed it with a thoughtful smile.

"Then what are waiting for?"

Let's go wake our sleeping beauty.
There were some last-minute finishing touches that had to be done before the operation was to begin.

We were only in the cabin for a few days but we went about scrubbing and cleaning the entire place of any sign we were once there. We didn't burn down the whole thing since that could leave a trail, not to mention it was a place we found by pure chance.

I suited up for the occasion, wearing all black with my new coat over it. Putting up the hoodie and wrapping a scarf around my mouth, I wore a set of thick grey goggles we had lying around to fully conceal my identity. You could still kind of see two glowing pupils through the cheap material but I didn't want to wear my sunglasses (those were a bit too identifying).

Lionel and I agreed to meet up at a certain point a couple miles west of the Shield base. The doc would take the truck and get a head start. We figured if things went wrong on my end it probably would be best to hit the road and escape to try another day, most likely with outside aid neither of us were comfortable receiving.

He didn't have much to say as I saw him off. Simply outstretching his hand, I clasped mine over his and pulled him into a one-armed hug. He had already instructed me on how to use the Rebirth Stabilizer to cure Rogers so other than a nod and a quiet "good luck", I watched Lionel drive away until he was out of sight.

An hour later, I was back in the tunnels, using my Toxin to continue my march. Inch after inch after inch of the earth melting in front of me made my senses grow sharper. Every step of progress brought me to a state of calm and razoer sharp focus. I was unnaturally aware of the doc's Rebirth Stabilizer and the cure attached in my breast pocket.

This went on for another hour as the strain mounted but I kept a slower rhythm this time so it wouldn't become too great too soon. I quietly counted the distance in my head each generation of Toxin and dissolving of the earth, my body moving on autopilot at this point.

'1400 feet…1450 feet…1550 feet…'

1600. 1690. 1720. 1790.

It was just shy of the 1900th​ foot mark, right where I was about to create another Mucus ring as support, did the next section of rock and dirt fully finished sludging off…to reveal smooth, uniform concrete.

My heart pounded as I saw the man-made material. Placing a hand on the cool wall, I took a breath and mentally prepared myself, double checking if the hood and mask were still on.

The Toxin broke down the concrete with the same trivial ease. Burning a smaller hole compared to the rest of the tunnel, it widened to revel the plain steel behind of some unknown machinery. A small, incredulous laugh bubbled up to my throat and I just barely stopped myself from letting it out.

So, so dumb…

Taking a tentative step through the first thing I noticed was that it was dark, the colors muted and light low. Squeezing fully through, I became pressed between the machine and the wall once both my feet hit the floor. I couldn't see much else from this angle.

The second was the cold.

It was freezing here. I could see my breath turn to vapor and the cold was piercing through my coat, my raised body temperature being the only reason I wasn't shivering. I stayed hunch and low to the ground as I snuck around the machine to see where I arrived.

I turned the corner to see that I was in some sort of pump room. A large number of pipes entered the room and went through the walls, connected to a bunch of levers and closed terminals. The cold created fog clouds that clung to the floor and flowed out of the open door, leading into a hallway that was equally poorly lit.

I didn't waste any time and instantly went on the move.

I didn't rush though. I kept an eye on the long dark hallways, checking every few feet forward and sides for traps or alarms. I listened intently for any other footsteps and heartbeats as I navigated the floor. The featureless walls and pipes didn't give me much information to go off in terms of the base's layout.

The hallway was as quiet as a grave. No personnel or soldiers on standby. Nor were there doors leading to other rooms. It was just an endless hallway full of pipes and freezing air. I began to grow worried that our luck had finally ran dry and this has been long since abandoned.

That was, until I reached an intersection. With one path going left and the other curving to the right and up a staircase, it was the wide-open space straight ahead that instantly caught my attention.

Even from my position I could tell the room expanded out for a dozen feet beyond the archway, the ceiling rising high enough that I could only see the top once I got within a few feet of the entrance and the steel walls were featureless on all sides. There was nothing in there.

Nothing, expect a long coffin like machine in the middle of the room with a sheet of glass atop it.

A vague humanoid figure could be seen resting within.

I stopped shy of the archway. Taking a glance down the other hallways (and seeing no one), I very slowly peeked my head in and took a long look around.

I sighed lowly at the 4 cameras hanging on each corner of the ceiling, their red light glaring down into the room and right at the coffin.

Weirdly enough? That made me feel a lot better about this whole thing than if it they were not there at all. I took the last step inside. I took another.

The Mucus Balls in my hands flew up and covered each of the cameras just as an ear-piercing alarm began to blare, red lights flashing across the whole room and (presumably) waking the whole base.

I clicked my tongue as gears grinded in the walls and, with little warning, a steel door slid from the archway and slammed down behind me. There was another shift and thick bars fell over the door with a deafening clang.

I was locked in.

Ah…Probably should have expected that.

'I kind of did.' I thought there'd be a much louder and messier trap. 'Then again, it probably wouldn't be very safe when his body is not even 20 feet away from me.'

I guess even the most morally bankrupt and stupid bureaucrat wouldn't want to be known as the official who authorized booby trapping a comatose Captain America's resting site.

Oh well. The plan hadn't changed. I walked forward, arriving next to see the coffin and through the foggy glass saw-

Well…I saw a man.

A tall, well-built man in his mid 30s. His light blond hair was cut short and chiseled jaw was covered in blond stubble. His features were classically handsome and made his sleeping expression appear stern. He was also naked save for the black boxers meant to preserve his modesty.

I know it was stupid to expect much else but laying eyes upon the Captain America, I was expecting someone…more valiant looking, I guess. Larger than life. Someone you take one glance at and go "oh yeah, that man is a something special". Maybe when he's awake he acts every bit the legend he was but right now?

He just looked like any other dude you'd find on the street.

Maybe that's the point.

I spotted the keypad on the side, the lock to his prison and life preservation station. Lionel was never privy to that code.

So I had to improvise.

"Excuse me Captain."

The glass shattered under my fist, and an onslaught of arctic cold air hit me like a blow to the face. I ignored the ice forming over my skin as I picked up Rogers, dusting off the glass fragments that fell on him and carried the unconscious man to another corner of the room. Placing him against the wall I retrieved the Rebirth Stabilizer from my pocket with one hand.

The other ignited in a handful of Marshfire. The very real heat it emitted (even if I couldn't feel it) dispersed the coldness around us and I brought the emerald, orange flame closer to the Captain. Lionel said I couldn't administer the cure until his body heated up and his blood began pumping again. His heat signature rose under my eyes and fast at that. His Super Soldier physiology at work there surely.

I jammed the Stabilizer in his neck once it reached an acceptable degree (roughly the same as a normal person if a little higher), hitting the vein like the doc instructed me to.

The greenish blue liquid in the vial steadily decreased by the second, until it fully emptied out into his system. I pulled the Stabilizer free and placed it away. The point of entry didn't even leak a drop of blood.

It was done. The injection took less than a minute but even the doc didn't know how long it'll take for the cure to settle. He was only confident it would work. Still holding up my flaming hand, I turned to the sealed door when I heard a number of footsteps coming down the hallway.

It was a little hard to tell just how many it was past the blaring alarm but it sounded like a lot-

My head snapped back around as a hand tightly gripped my forearm. My other hand reached out and held down the body trying to stand by the chest, the force behind it great but nothing I couldn't handle.

I looked into two bright and intense eyes. His breath a bit labored, as if he just went for a light jog, a frazzled Steve Rogers stared directly at me with a level of lucidity that had no business on a man that just woke up from a half century ice nap.

His breath evened out soon after. He still allocated a certain amount of strength to standing up but didn't try to fight my hold any harder when that proved fruitless. All he asked was-

"What's going on?"

He sounded calm. No panic or confusion, even as a hand holding an eldritch flame was a mere foot away from his face (though he did give it a few glances). His voice was deep but not immediately hostile. Snapping the flames out of existence with a quick flick of my wrist and turning off the heat going there, I gave him a small smile even if he couldn't see it through the mask.

"Good morning Captain. Or, I guess it'd be night. You've been asleep for a long while. I know you got a lot of questions but first things first…How do you feel?"

"How do I feel? What does that have to do with-"

Rogers paused. Truly paused this time. I watched as his eyes widened before he took an overly deep inhale, obviously testing something. His shock only increased when he exhaled and what came back wasn't what he expected. Looking down at his hands (his grip on my arm wavered) for a long, long moment, Steve Rogers looked back up at me with an utterly stunned look.

"How?"

"How what?" I asked, my body unconsciously leaning forward at the question. Either sensing I was fishing for a specific answer or just lost in his discovery, Rogers ruminated for a moment before answering.

"My breathing…It's fine. My limbs don't feel like they're being dragged down anymore…The pain is gone."

Words could not describe my relief at that. I want to laugh uproariously in victory but held it in since it wasn't the time nor place.

Got yah covered brother! You can't feel it but I'm busting it down in here! Oh yeah! Uh huh! Whoa!

"Who are you?" Rogers asked and my lips thinned, my excitement simmering. Pulling my hand away from his chest I stood under his confused gaze. He released my arm at the same time.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. I'd love to, but this isn't my call to make. Just know that this was a means to making amends. So you won't have to worry about being in debt to a shady group or something." My attention was brought back to the door and the many voices I heard congregating on the other side. "I would like a favor from you though."

I told the still very confused Rogers my request and his confusion only grew from there. Giving me an odd look, the living legend also stood to his feet and rubbed his neck. The subtle tab of his foot and clenching and unclenching of his fist belied his astonishment of this whole thing.

"You've lost me kid." He said with a wry look. "I mean, I'm grateful don't get me wrong, but I really confused on what this all means. You have to give me something here."

I tilted my head at his insistence, not really surprised he picked out the fact I was young (Rebirth didn't do much to my voice weirdly enough). Regardless, I ultimately shook my head and shrugged helplessly.

"Sorry Cap. It's out of my hands. This wasn't even my plan; I decided to join in because it sounded pretty important. Otherwise…I'm just a guy."

"…A guy?"

"Yep. Just a guy, hopping right through."

Steve Rogers blankly stared at me. Before he could respond to the nonsense coming out of my mouth, the gears shifted again in the doors and an echoing clank rang out as the steel door slowly unlocked.

I leapt up onto the wall above the entrance before it fully opened and watched as a dozen Shield agents with assault rifles and decked out in futuristic armor shuffled in with practiced ease. They took a few steps inside, their guns sweeping the area and heads swiveling as they spread out to search for the intruder.

They collectively zeroed in on the form of Steve Rogers standing in the middle of the room. Stopping dead in their heels to stare at the man (even through their helmets I could sense their stunned amazement), Rogers stared back with a contemplative look for a second.

The he sighed lowly, the sound loud in the dead quiet room.

"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?…And maybe get me some pants too."

The former discipline seemed to evaporate into thin air as most of the agents scrambled forward to the Super Soldier, lowering their weapons to surround him in a protective bubble. A few personnel not in armored uniforms entered the room with hurried steps, one was even lugging a heavy kit and medical tools. A few agents moved to allow the personnel through to take his vitals and do a quick check up.

None of them noticed Roger ever so slightly tilt his head up at me, and give a subtle nod. I saluted in return.

Credit where it was due, the agents were still very alert and snapped around when I made a break for it.

Unfortunately for them I had already made it through the entrance, flipping into the hallway and was dozens of feet away by the time they could raise their rifles. I was even farther when the first order of "Stop him!" amidst the surprise and panic could be heard.

I hopped away at breakneck speeds, the walls rapidly passing me and the shouting growing dimmer as I continued running.

The alarm was still blaring as I arrived at the pump room and shimmed behind the machine and back through the hole I came in. Covering the entrance with heated Mucus, I sprinted down the tunnel as fast I could, uncaring of the dirt and stone being displaced under my feet as I reached the entrance to the mining site in record time.

The outside was peaceful. There were no helicopters roaming the skies or lights from the base of the mountain piercing into the night but I doubted it would stay that way for long.

So I kept moving, doing my best to place as much distance between me and the base while occasionally looking over my shoulder. Once I got a mile or so away and saw no one catching up, I activated my rocket boots and shot into the air, straightforwardly flying to the meeting point at its fastest speed (though I kept a relatively low altitude).

Weaving between the treetops, flying over rivers and taking the shortest path through the mountains, the original settlement of Prospect Creek soon came into view. The tiny stretch of land with wooden homes laid empty and quiet, having seen no activity for a long time…save for a lone truck, nestled on the outskirts between a couple trees.

The car door shot opened as I landed nearby. Exiting the car in a hurried motion, Lionel quickly walked over to me as I dusted off the snow and soot.

He didn't actually say anything. He tried but failed to actually form words. Perhaps too afraid of the potential answer, or just not trusting his voice, Lionel just gave a me an inquisitive look.

To that, I took out the empty Rebirth Stabilizer. Holding it up to him, he stared at it in incomprehension for a second…before something clicked, and he looked back to me with wide eyes.

"Mission accomplished doc." I said with victorious grin. "From how he was moving after the fact, it looks like you've more than earned the title. Congrats."

I've never seen the expression 'a weight lifted from one's shoulders' happen with such strength and intensity than when Lionel reacted to the news.

I thought the older man was going to sink to his knees at the sheer sigh of relief that escaped him, his expression a chaotic of cocktail of surprise, disbelief and conflicted happiness. Taking wobbly steps forward, I blinked as he pulled me with surprising strength into a great big bear hug. His frame shook minutely as he leaned into the embrace.

"T-Thank you." Lionel said, his voice cracking and half strangled next to my ear. "Thank you…"

"…Any time doc." I said and softly returned the hug, gently patting his back. "Any time."

We stood hugging there for a few minutes. I held the doc as his quiet sobs filled the air and when we separated, his eyes were puffy and noise bright red (his front was also covered in soot but Lionel didn't seem to care). Wiping his nose with a small napkin from his pocket, the older man looked to me after cleaning most of it.

"I-I thought about what you told me." He said with sniffle. "About seeing my family and explaining why I was gone for so long."

"Oh yeah?"

"I lied before." Lionel admitted eliciting a surprised blink from me. "The reason I never went isn't because I didn't expect them to understand. I was afraid they would. And that's they'd hate me for what I've done. Call me a monster and c-curse the fact I ever returned. A part of me is still afraid that will happen. It makes me want to hide and not go through with it…but that's what an asshole parent would do, wouldn't it?"

My eyes widened at that before giving a loud laugh. I patted him on the arm and I shook my head with a wide grin.

"Damn right it'd be. Good on you doc, I'm proud of ya."

"Don't say that yet." He said with wry yet oddly light smile. "I still need to figure out how I'm getting to London without a passport. Never had much need for one when in hiding."

"London?"

"Yeah. My wife was from there and my daughter moved there years ago. It was actually around the time I cut contact so I figured I'd make the effort to go to her. She always said it was beautiful."

Huh…How about that? I crossed my arms as the doc tiredly sat down on a nearby log, still wiping the tears from his eyes. He looked to me once he dried his eyes enough.

"What about you?"

"Me?" I quirked a brow and he nodded to the truck.

"I mean after this. You going to keep traveling right? What's the next stop for you?"

Hmmm. That was a good question. I got so caught up with finding him, completing Rebirth and then saving Rogers that my stop never once entered my mind. I thought I'd be a little lost on where to go next.

Oddly enough…I wasn't.

I immediately had a place in mind. Giving Lionel a crooked smile, I rubbed my chin in a very cartoonish thinking manner.

"Well, looking back on it, the past few weeks have been pretty hectic. I've made enemies of multiple powerful and sinister organizations, one of which is deeply entwined with either the US or Canadian government. Or both. I helped steal a bunch of highly illegal radioactive materials, was a willing participant of an equally illegal biological experiment using said materials, broke into a highly guarded military base to administer an untested cure on American's Number 1 Icon without his consent, and evaded capture after doing so. Going off all that, it's probably best if I go somewhere overseas for a while. At least until the heat dies down a bit."

"…So where would you go?"

"I don't know. I've never left the country before so this would be a first. There's lot of interesting places to visit in the world…But if I had to choose…I heard from this old dude I know that London is beautiful this time of the year."

Lionel stared at me. I stared back, unashamed.

Our laughter echoed far into the dark night.
A/N: Just for the record, people will learn what Todd has done this day. It may come soon; it may come very far down the line but the truth will one day get out. And many a brain of the heroically and villainously inclined with melt into puddy.

OGToad – "Wait, does this make us Heroes now?"

SITodd – "…My guy, did you not just hear the countless crimes I committed in short couple weeks? What part of any of that sounded Heroic?"

OGToad – "That's not a no."

SITodd – "…I plead the Fifth."

We may just make a proper Super Toad out of him yet. Maybe…Probably not.

Anyhow. With that, Act 2 is complete. I'm going on vacation soon so there most likely won't be another chapter for a few weeks but half of it is complete so we'll see before I go. Until then, I hope everyone has a wonderful end to summer.

And as always. I hope you enjoyed.
 
I wonder if Toad can eventually jump off the air
 
transhumansage said:
you know what i love about this particular operation? nothing seriously went wrong. no diabolus ex machina simply for the sake of drama. TFTC.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Sometimes you got to let a win be a win. Too many comic book writers stretch the suspension of disbelief by having there always be an obstacle for their characters, even when it really doesn't make sense for them to be there.
 
Thanks for the chapter(s)!

I just recently found this. It's really good.

I'll admit, the idea of having him move away from Bayville had me sceptical at first. I was wrong. I really enjoyed reading this fic, though it only really captured my attention after chapter 4 or 5. I'm looking forward to what's coming next.

I'm not familiar with 'E-Men Evolution' and most of what I know about the x-men in general comes from fanfiction (usually when it's mixed into the MCU) so all of this is new to me, even the stuff prior to leaving. Hell, I didn't even know who Toad was or what his powers were. Same with the rest of the Brotherhood (minus Wanda and Quicksilver). Still, despite a fair few moments (especially in the beginning) where I had to spend a while trying to puzzle out a few things that I had no context for, it wasn't too bad and I could understand most of what was going on through context as I kept reading. It did mean I probably missed some of the subtleties of the early chapters, but that's fair honestly. When you are writing fanfiction, most of your audience are going to have that context. That was probably why the story took a while to suck me in.

Onto the story... it was well written. I didn't notice many grammatical errors and spelling errors/typos were rare. The character interactions were excellent. Conversations weren't stilted or fake feeling. None of the characters were caricatures. The story itself didn't get bogged down, boring or repetitive; you kept things moving and fresh. The travel definitely helped with that; moving away from everyone with preconceived notions about him from his pre-SI life meant that he didn't need to constantly prove himself to people and people weren't always surprised by his competence/intelligence/etc. which would have definitely cotten stale after a while. You somehow managed to avoid character bloat as well, despite moving from place to place, meeting new people regularly. Really, just all-round good stuff. No real complaints from me.

On another note, is there a proper place to give reviews?
 
Interlude: A World Spinning New
Interlude: A World Spinning​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.
Irene knew the day was getting off on the wrong foot when her ringtone erupted on her nightstand, dragging her from the depths of restful sleep with all the gentleness of honey badger wanting to play fight.

When her Saturday biological clock quickly deduced that it wasn't 12 PM, the usual time she woke up on her day off her annoyance only grew from there. She couldn't tell if the sun was up either ever since she put up those blackout curtains on her windows and covers at the edges of her door, along with the noise acoustic panels on the wall.

Best investments she ever made those. The absolute darkness allowed her to avoid waking with the morning sun and continue to sleep like it was the middle of the night.

That was until some asshole chose to call her, making the ringtone reverberate throughout the quiet room. Shuffling within the sheets that wrapped around her body like a cocoon Irene stuck one lethargic arm out and sleepily reached for the source of the noise.

She slapped down on her phone and cut off the ringing. Restoring the room back to its blissful silence, Irene snuggly shimmed in her blanket, finding that perfect spot again with a content sigh. The call of sleep sang its beautiful tone.

For about 2 seconds before the phone's ringing canceled it out again.

Her hand swung around and slapped the phone harder this time, nearly sending the offending device clattering off the nightstand. Snuggling her head into her pillow aggressively Irene didn't even bother covering herself with her sheets and just limply drifted off.

One bloodshot eye snapped open with then phone rang for a third time. Wordlessly reaching over to unhook the phone from its placement, Irene brought it to her ear.

"Before you say anything." She began with enough vitriol that made the underlining waking haze practically nonexistent (at least it did in her mind). "What about the previous 2 calls being canceled made you go; oh, a third time will definitely work?"

"Oh good, you're awake. I need you in today." Said a deep, scratchy from the other side, completely ignoring her question. The corner of Irene's left eye twitched.

"Clave. What did I tell you would happen the next time you called me on my day off, earlier than the time you know I wake up, and ask me to come in?"

"Something about a spoon and scooping out my eyeballs to feed them to me or something."

"It was your balls actually."

"Yes, yes, you're very scary. Listen I'll personally give you the spoon if you come into work today, because I need you in. Something big is going to happen."

The final layer of embittered defiance melted away as his words came through with a pointed seriousness to them. As much as he could be an overbearing boss that acted more like a drill sergeant when in one of his moods, Clave always made sure to stay on the level with his employees. He wasn't the type to mean one thing and say another. Sitting up with a slight groan, Irene arched her back and popped it with a couple satisfying cracks.

"What's going on?"

"That very question is why I'm sending you. I just heard from a friend of mine that there will be an announcement in DC given by Senator Krane in the afternoon. Beyond that? I got nothing."

That was the second red flag. Clave always knew insider information on the myriads of jobs he sent them on. The man's network of connections was legendary and was one of the main reasons the Inquiring Eye was able to become one of the top tabloid newspapers in the country.

There were running theories in the office on how exactly he was able to cultivate such an extensive network from being a former spy working for the more secretive agencies in the US government to having close relations with powerful information brokers in the underworld.

So the fact he didn't have any more idea on what she was going to investigate and report on was…

Irene quickly took a shower and got changed when Clave told her that there was a car waiting for her downstairs. The fact he had it prepped as if already knowing Irene would accept irked her a little but she just turned the cheek and entered the car without much fanfare.

The car took her from her apartment in Midtown Manhattan the airport where she got on a Business Class flight straight to Washington DC. From there another car was waiting at the exit, with a man in a suit holding up a sign with her name and she got into his car to be driven in the loose direction of the United States Capitol Building.

From the moment she awoke to now as the vehicle came to a gentle stop, Irene had finished downing multiple cups of coffee and at least 3 breakfast sandwiches until she felt like an actual human being again. If still half dead on her feet could be considered human.

The veteran reporter's brows rose as she walked up the steps to the grass field of Senate Park and saw a large stage was being prepped in front of the historic building. A wide perimeter was set with waist high police fences and multiple entrances that were manned by a couple of officers alongside men and women in black suits.

Irene signed in with a government worker at a desk next to an entrance and was let through after being padded down by a security guard. Her eyes idly glanced at the many standing poles strung about the area and the banners hung up, a semi familiar face on it looking down with a picture-perfect smile. Only semi, because her boss was the one to fill in the blanks on the ride here.

'Senator Krane…' She didn't know much about the man. Among the many organizations and individuals that went into politics that caught her company's attention, his term was a supposedly bland one. A fence sitter that didn't enjoy rocking the boat more than necessary; his policies were the bottom of the barrel promises for his specific demographics to keep himself relevant.

Below average even amongst the Senate of the US, there was always a scandal to be found in a politician's closet or close family. It was practically a universal law in her profession.

So the fact that nothing immediately came to Irene's mind about Senator Krane told her that his secrets must be particularly boring ones if she never heard about them. Either from an outside source or one of her colleagues.

Half of the seats were already filled with reporters or photographers from other agencies so Irene took a spot in the very back. There weren't so many seats that it would be a nuisance to hear from her distance, and she could always raise her voice to ask any questions.

Prepping her notebook and other things on her lap, Irene watched a large camera being set up near the front and so didn't notice the figure taking the seat directly next to her in the empty row.

"I guess I should have expected you to be here. That old hound picked up on the weirdness around this event huh?" A rough but genial voice said, involuntarily drawing a small smile from Irene. She turned to an older African American man in his mid-fifties in a suit and long beige coat. His shoulders were broad and his hair mostly black save for few lines of silver at his sides, alongside a couple wrinkles around the eyes that made his smile appear even more grandfatherly.

"Hey Robbie. Long time no see." Irene greeted the older man with a teasing smile. "I have to admit, you caught me by surprise. That loud braggart bothering to send one of his better reporters for something not involving New York City? Never thought I'd see the day."

"Hey now, I know Jameson can be…uniquely patriotic when it's come to his hometown and how he doesn't go far for work." Robbie started weakly and chuckled at the blank look she gave him in response. "But he does keep an ear out to the wider world's ongoings. Whatever is happening today seemed important enough for him to send me with two support staff."

"Hmm. Guess I'll take your word for it. Despite the old man sending me here too, he didn't really have much info on what this announcement was going to be for."

"Nothing at all?" Robbie asked and clicked his tongue when Irene shook her head. "Damn, I was hoping you'd have something because I'm in the same boat. The only reason I'm here is because the utter lack of info over an announcement made it all stink to Jameson."

"Shocking he can smell anything past that Hitler stache…"

Robbie ignored the barely murmured comment (it was one he heard one too many times over the years) and turned his head when a lanky Asian man walked over, leaning down to speak into his ear. Irene busied herself with her things while idly listening to their conversation.

"I couldn't find the Boss's contact to get backstage access but I was able to nab two seats near the front so you can hang back for now and come later if you want."

"Where's Peter?"

"At the corner of the stage. He was able to work his charm and get a good spot for pictures between a couple agents on the stairs."

"Aright. That shouldn't be a problem but keep an eye on him. Last thing we need is another incident like the Lizard Lair weekend."

"You really won't let that go will you?"

"The kid's danger prone for a good picture and you know it. Now get." Robbie huffed as the Asian man did a mock salute and walked over to take his seat. The older man spotted the curious look Irene was giving him. "Don't ask."

Usually she'd take exception to that command (asking questions was her job after all) but chose to relent at the haunted expression on Robbie's face.

The clock slowly turned as more and more people arrived to fill the area. Seats were filled as other soldiers and guards took point around the stage; a number of photographers being herded to a designated area to take pictures.

Irene narrowed her eyes as another camera was being prepped with a projector rolled out and set in the middle of the aisle. It was activated after short notice and a blank projection was displayed on the backdrop of the stage.

It was well into the afternoon that the entrances were closed and the crowd turned as the curtains parted in one section. A man in a sharp black suit exited the opening and walked to the standing podium in the center amidst a bombardment of camera flashes. Irene took in the man as he moved.

He wasn't immediately recognizable to her. Tall and middle-aged man with tanned skin, he had dark brown hair that was slicked back and a small mustache under his nose. The man's brows were heavy and stern, his dark eyes gliding across the assembled crowd of reporters, journalists and officials with a quiet intensity. By the time he took the stand, the red lights on the cameras flashed green and were now fully turned to him. Shuffling some papers on the podium the sound of the man clearing his throat came through on the speakers and he leaned in to speak.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the crowd, and the people watching at home. It is with a heavy heart that I found myself on this stand today talking to you all." The man began, solemnly, while looking into the cameras. "Forgive me for interrupting your regularly scheduled program but believe me when I say, what I have to report is of grave importance to the common man and the continued safety of humanity at large."

To start this announcement with such a drastic claim, before even introducing himself made a pit grow in Irene's stomach. A number of reporters glanced around and locked eyes with one another. Robbie next to her had his brows furrowed and was looking at the soldiers appearing non plussed as the man continued.

"Many of you don't recognize me. That is by design. For decades I have spent moving in the shadows of the governments of the world, combating threats that could upend everything this great nation stands for and what it represents. My work has seen many changes in its time but my life's goal has always stayed the same. The investigation, research, and control of existential threats to Humanity. But I'm getting ahead of myself." He said and took a deep breath before raising his head to stare ahead at the camera. "My name is Bolivar Trask. And I have come to reveal a secret the leaders of this world would keep from you at the expense of the innocents caught in their wake."

The display from the projector flickered in the background and began show images. Images that flashed by in seconds but Irene catalogued and silently recognized in mere moments.

An unstoppable green beast battling militia in some unknown country. A man the size of buildings standing atop the Space Needle with a much smaller figure floating next to them. A wall crawling menace fighting criminals in the streets of New York City.

"For many years, the continued existence of the 'Super Powered' has been a widely contested and researched phenomena. Where they come from, how they choose to use their spectacular powers, and the repercussion of their continued existence on our world. The most commonly accepted theory is these Altered come about by complete random chance. The universe having a sudden, unexplainable lapse of judgement and this moment resulting in a person being changed into something different. Something unnatural. Something unrepeatable." Boliver said…before his expression hardened severely. "They were wrong."

The screen changed, and different images began to flash across the projection. Images of hallways filled with explosions and dozens of figures in similar uniforms rampaging through a facility. A young man blasting walls and floors to pieces with red eye beams. A young woman phasing through solid stone like it was thin air. A blue furred figure disappearing and appearing in wisps of black smoke.

And a symbol they all wore. A large, red 'X'.

"There exists another type of Super Powered in this world." He said as the crowd watched the new images in varying states of shock and confusion. "Ones that do not require random strokes of unfortune chance, nor can they be labelled as a one-off circumstance. They are numerous. And they could be anyone. They could be your neighbor, your teachers, your friend, your sibling, your spouse. These Super Powered can appear anywhere, and many already have."

More images flashed. Of regular people in war torn countries using superpowers at their leisure. Of people with warped bodies and unnatural features hidden in the shadowy pockets of society. Of charts exposing the current population of these Super Powered…and how the number was rapidly rising across the globe.

"These entities are known as Mutants…and if there's nothing to be done about them, Humanity may very well find itself in a battle for the future. And our place in it."

Irene couldn't hear herself think as the other reporters began to stir at the truth, questions and accusations flying at his claims. Couldn't process the magnitude of the coming shift at this reveal. Staring at the man who chose to do all this with a grave conviction, Irene was sure about one thing.

She really, really shouldn't have answered that damn phone…
For Nicholas Joseph Fury, living in a state of being completely and utterly out of his depth was every bit as natural to him as it was for the sun to rise in the morning.

This was a constant that has followed his tracks for as long as he could remember. Since the day he became leader of the globe spanning organization known as Shield and took it upon himself to safeguard humanity from the countless myriad threats that existed in the universe, peace was concept that he had long come to understand is a fragile lie at the best of times. And a bad running joke at the worst.

Ironic considering just how much blood, sweat and lives he's sacrificed to maintain it. Any at one given time, there existed something that threatened to destroy all the work he's done to keep the world standing and in relative whole.

If it wasn't terrestrial in nature, then it was a threat that came from the stars. If not from the stars than they pooled through the tiny, unfathomable crevices of reality and arrived with all the care of mischievous eldritch night goers tipping over the metaphorical cows that were the helpless mortal minds they cross.

In his long, "illustrious" career as Director of Shield, Fury has seen it all. Has dealt with the conquering warlord from a forgotten age. Has sent packing invading alien Broods from the darkest pockets of the galaxy. He once wrangled with a madman who could control the souls of the dead and sunlight via a magical spearhead from another dimension (even by his standards, that had been a strange weekend…)

Oh yes. Fury had seen and handled it all. Such was the job…And yet, despite dealing with problems that would break a stronger man on a good day and coming through with minimal scarring to show for it, there existed one specific threat that never failed to spawn a migraine whenever it popped up.

And it was never the obvious one either. Oh no. In his experience, the headache never came from the warlord, or the alien invader, or the power-hungry madman. Those would be too easy. Those would be simple to rally a defense against.

To Nick Fury, the most annoying threat to the world always arrived, in the form of a Man trying to save it.

"We should have killed that fool when we had the chance."

Fury peeked from the hand covering his temple to glance at the still back of Dum Dum Dugan. The veteran agent and one of Fury's closest confidants stood in the middle of his office, facing the screen that played the latest architect of his problems on loop across the news channels. Ruminating on his comment for a moment, he covered his face again with a low sigh.

"Yes. I suppose we should have."

Hindsight was 20/20 in that regard. Even for a man whose job was to stay ahead of the ever-expanding curve, Fury would be the first to admit that he sometimes missed the smaller details in favor of focusing on the bigger ones.

Trask had been one of those smaller details. A military scientist hired due to his unique affinity when it came to tampering and reengineering alien technology, every Shield asset came with a prefinished psychological profile that was slowly defined and perfected over time as they worked in the organization. By the time he left and branched off to do his own thing his profile was practically complete.

To put it simply, Bolivar Trask was a man that abhorred the fact that he lived in such a chaotic world full of aliens, monsters, and (most importantly) Superhumans.

It wasn't an odd sentiment to have. Rare instead was the man who can come to terms with living amongst beings that can casually erase their existence with barely any effort and potentially their entire race.

Left unsaid how said race was at the literal bottom of the cosmic food chain, but Trask had a particularly passionate dislike about that fact. So much so that when he defected from Shield he made it his life's work to even the playing field. Even at the expense of his personal health, family and wealth.

And so became the crux of Fury's folly. At the time, he still thought of Trask as the asset that could be recovered at any point rather than the ideological zealot that he was and allowed him to continue his work, hoping that by the time he was retrieved his inventions would be in usable order.

He should have reined him in when it became harder to pin down his location. He should have cut things off when his Sentinel got firsthand testing against Xavier's pet child soldiers and the product was stronger than he was expecting.

"You kept giving the dog more and more slack, unaware that he had long since bitten through his collar."

"Thank you Dugan. I was having a hard time finding the right analogy to my fuck up so I truly appreciate it."

Fury exhaled in annoyance as Dugan gave a gruff chuckle. Honestly. Once Trask disappeared from the face of the Earth after his altercation with the X-Men, the only thing they could discover on how he did it was rumors about new Sponsors taking in the wayward scientist.

Sponsors that could hinder even their ability to track him.

Warning alarms began blaring in Fury's head.

The number of organizations in the world that could boast such a feat were few and rare. With their identity still unknown, it made moving against Trask a tricky proposition and it was only made worse by how close the rogue agent got to a high ranking official within the US government without their knowledge. Embarrassing was too kind of a word to describe coming to terms with that.

As if on cue, the door to his office quietly swung open and the slim frame of Maria Hill entered the room with a folder under her arm.

"What did you find?" Fury asked as Hill crossed the room and placed the folder on his desk before standing at attention, arms crossed behind her back.

"Very little." She reported with nary a flicker in her expression. "Senator Krane has not seen a major deviation in his usual operations save for a charity event in Kentucky hosted by a local nonprofit organization over a month ago. Our analysts believe if there was ever a moment that Trask or his Sponsors got in contact with the Senator, it was then."

Dugan came over to stand at his side as Fury opened the folder and began reading the (admittedly) small report. The veteran agent tilted his head slightly.

"'The Scions of Humanity's Future'…Really?"

"It's a youth group."

"I've known cults with subtler names."

"…The analysts are 30 percent sure it isn't one."

"Do we at least have eyes inside investigating things?" Fury asked and Hill gave a curt nod.

"Agent Sharon and Tye are currently following a paper trail of money that recently entered Krane's holdings. We also have a name for the head of the youth group and the ones that authorized the airtime for Trask's unofficial conference. Agent Barton is in charge of the latter."

"At least there's that…" It was less than he would hope to work with, far less, but playing catch up was the mission half the time. Hesitating for a beat after seeing his expression, Hill bowed her head slightly.

"I went ahead and pulled the report for the…other thing you asked for."

Ah. Yes, he nearly forgot about that in the wake of…well everything. Fury's sole good eye unconsciously moved to a small screen next to his computer monitor, a live feed constantly running to show another room in the Helicarrier. A room that acted as a large and cozy living space for…unique guests of Shield. Typically those from other solar systems and/or mystical societies.

And was currently host to a man the rest of the world has long thought dead.

Nick Fury was someone that did not like surprises. Hated them really. Surprises were unobserved variables and almost always ended in creating a new headache for him to handle, usually with little to no time to find a solution before it spiraled further.

However, in this one instance, watching Captain America somewhat anxiously meander in the room Fury found himself exceptionally tolerant of this surprise.

'You've out done yourself Doctor.'

It had been an interesting morning when the report came in about the son of Wilfred Nagel leaving the hidden life he set up for himself to follow a mutant boy halfway across the country to chase the breadcrumbs of the now defunct Project Rebirth.

After the debacle with Magneto and his theft of the second Rebirth Chamber, it didn't take a rocket scientist to infer that this was somewhat related. Since this wasn't a functioning chamber in the hands of a literal mutant terrorist, the urgency to intervene never hit Fury and he allowed them to go unhindered in whatever they planned to do, albeit with some surveillance.

He had an idea on what they were planning to do anyway. The think tank had made guesses on the connection between the Mutant Gene and Rebirth after the first incident and with the boy enlisting Nagel's help, and Nagel actually going with him willingly, it just added further validity to the hypothesis.

The interference of Weapon Plus and Frank Simpson AKA Scourge was unexpected (Fury had people working on figuring out how that happened), but from the state Shield found them in after sending in a task force, it was safe to say Nagel was able to work his magic on the mutant boy.

Fury expected many things to happen. He expected them to go into hiding after meeting such opposition, get the heat off them before moving on. Perhaps they'd get to work on contacting the boy's old school mates to capitalize on the procedure working for Mutants or for Nagel return to the field after discovering a new path for Rebirth, in which Shield would swoop in when the opportunity presented itself.

What he wasn't expecting to happen was for the two to completely go off script, beeline it straight to Alaska and break into a highly guarded facility to cure Captain America from a half century cellular degradation without asking for any reward or credit.

If an update on the mutant boy's profile wasn't already in the works after Rebirth, Fury would have personally sent the order in after his actions with Rogers. It was a total 180 from the psychological profile they had and so needed heavy reworking.

Staring at the files that read "Todd Tolansky" and "Lionel Nagel" at their sides, Fury glanced again at the video feed of the guest room. He did this a few more times.

An idea began to form in his head.

"Hill." He called out and the woman stood straighter. "Have Benson from Public Relations come up to my office. I need to run something by him."

"Sir?"

"I got an idea." Was all he said and there was a single second of pause before Hill gave another curt nod and exited the office.

Dugan gave Fury a curious look but didn't comment on his puzzling explanation and went back to looking at the news channels.

Fury, for his past, continued looking down at the files lost in thought.

'This is madness…Pure madness.' It was a stupid idea. Unconventional. Nothing like how he usually did things.

…But then again, the world had long become unconventional, hasn't it? It's why they got to this point. It's why Trask did what he did. He saw a mad world full of things he hated and chose the most easily accessible scapegoat to blame all his problems on. A tale as old as time really. An antiquated ideal.

So perhaps it was better to leave this to a man fresh from fighting such ideals.
"They're not going to disappear if you keep staring at them you know?"

The tension in Scott's jaw loosened slightly at the words. The field leader of the X-Men turned his head slightly as Jean came up to stand next to him, smiling at him. Quietly basking in her face for a long second (as he often did without meaning to) he returned to looking out of the window, though this time with a wistful expression.

"Who knows. The Professor is always saying our powers are changing in odd and news ways; maybe if I focus hard enough they actually will."

"Maybe. Just make sure to keep the glasses on…The driveway has enough splotches of red after Wolverine did his morning exercise."

Scott nearly hacked on the laugh that began to bubble up from his chest. He usually heard that type of gallows humor from the other more dour members of the house like Rogue and Logan. Hearing it from Jean of all people threw him for a loop.

And from the victorious smirk she sent his way, she got the reaction she was looking for. Coughing a few times to clear his throat, Scott hammered his chest while giving a wry smile.

"You're a devil."

"So I've heard." Jean drawled looking out of the window with him to the crowd at the gates. Her emerald eyes swayed to the far wall in the corner of the manor, full of graffiti. "Though last Evans checked, they were settling on Muties as the main thing to call us online. A little lazy as far as nicknames go honestly."

Scott felt his lifting mood sink back to the Earth. A bitter smile stretched across his face.

"Of course they already made a slur…"

Because what else did he expect? The moment that conference went live, it was if everyone he knew outside the manor changed into different people overnight.

Paul, Taryn, even Duncan began to distance himself from Jean after the reveal, something that would have once made him ecstatic but now just made his blood pressure rise at the sadness Jean tried her best to hide. He didn't think their relationship had been that especially deep but the choice he made still stung in ways that were hard to ignore.

Even random strangers on the street began to recognize them from the videos Trask showed. A strange energy seemed to follow them and more than once did they have to leave an area when people approached them as groups. Some in distrust, some innocently curious.

Some not so innocent.

It took a truly monumental amount of self-restraint from Scott when multiple paparazzi followed some of the girls home one day and even trespassed on the grounds to gather information on them, forcing them to call the cops to get them thrown out. They didn't want to take matters into their own hands (using their powers was a no go as is) and wanted to leave it to the higher authorities.

Only for the cops that came to blatantly interrogate them on the manor grounds, practically taking the side of the paparazzi and made excuses as to why they would follow the girl's home. Citing something about weird rumors around the neighborhood and how perhaps they were looking to investigate for the good of the community.

Kurt and Evans had to physically hold Scott back when the police officers openly asked if they were doing "unnatural" things to warrant being followed, which at that point they should be taking in the girls for questioning.

The sheer gall of framing something so unreasonable as reasonable, and the other officers agreeing nearly brought Scott to the brink. He genuinely had to fight the urge to press down on his glasses and wipe out those god damn worthless pieces of fucking sh-

A hand gently came to rest on his wrist. Snapping out of his trance, Scott looked down to see Jean's hand wrapped around his tightly clenched fist. He softly exhaled at her worried expression and gave a small smile before looking back out the window at the crowd.

This…He thought he'd be prepared for this. The Professor always said the world wasn't ready to learn about Mutantkind. That the day the truth comes out it wouldn't be to novel interest or acceptance. Scott knew that.

It still didn't make it easier watching the angry and fearful crowd outside the gate grow by the hour. Scott and Jean stood there together for a while until a soft knock drew their attention. Tapping at the open door with his knuckle, Kurt tilted his head when they turned to him.

"There's another public announcement happening in the living room. Just thought you'd like to know."

Scott frowned as Kurt walked out of sight. After the last televised announcement that led to their current dilemma it was safe to say the field leader has had his fill of them.

Another soft squeeze and smile from Jean made him rethink that decision.

"Perhaps it's best we go. It'll be better than standing here and staring at a crowd that'll go away on their own."

'Now looks who's being optimistic…' Scott couldn't argue with the logic though. He probably could have but he was never all that good when it came to disagreeing with her. Taking one last glance out the window to the dozens of journalists and reporters, and protestors to their very existence, Scott allowed himself to be pulled along with Jean to the main living room.

A good chunk of the house was already in attendance. Kurt, Kitty, Evans and Rogue were hanging around the television, taking up one side of the couches while Tabitha, Amara and Jubilee took the other side.

The Professor and Ororo were also watching in the background. The elderly Telepath smiled kindly as Scott and Jean entered the room. Whatever he planned to say was cut short however when Logan stomped into the room. They parted to let the irate Logan through, the older Mutant moving to grab a glass and bottle from the bar with a grumble.

"Damn noisy bastards. They don't fucking stop…"

"Are they still trying to get over the gate?" The Professor asked in worry and Logan growled.

"Trying? Chuck this is the third person I had to throw out after finding them sneaking around the west wing. Hank is fixing the hole in the fence they've been using to enter."

"Do you need help?" Evans asked from the couch. Downing a full glass of whiskey, Logan exhaled deeply.

"Nah, we got it handled Porcupine. If we really need to clear things in a pinch we'll just have your aunt summon a storm to wash away the pests."

"I think I have an exterminator outfit lying around somewhere." Ororo said with an amused smile to which Logan snorted.

"It's starting."

Kurt said, bringing everyone's focus back to the television. It was tuned to the official news channels for the White House. On the screen it showed a wide conference room full of people in suits and holding cameras, at the end was a stage with a podium and the American flag on either side.

Everyone sat down to watch save for Logan who turned his back with a sniff and began pouring himself another drink. Sitting between Kitty and Jean, Scott's brow rose when a man stepped onto the screen.

"Is that John Mckenna?" Ororo asked in surprise and they all watched as the President of the United States stood on the podium. Straightening his tie almost nervously he leaned into the mic and gave an award-winning smile.

"Good evening my fellow Americans. Thank you to those in the stands, and those watching at home for joining me on this momentous day. I know things have been…a bit chaotic in recent times, with certain issues that have caused widespread uncertainty. Just know we our doing everything we can to find solutions in preparation for the future of our great country."

"Hmph. 'Find solutions' he says. I wonder what he means by that…" Rogue mumbled darkly from her spot on the recliner and everyone watched as the President cleared his throat.

"But questions on that can be answered another day. For now, this is a day of celebration." Mckenna said his smile becoming a tad more genuine. "Today, we welcome back a Hero many once thought lost. A man known a world over for his valor, bravery and bottomless drive for justice. Ladies and gentlemen. It is with great pleasure that I personally welcome back the one and only…Steven. Rogers. Captain America!"

There was no roaring applause. Nor rapid flashing of lights from those in the stands holding cameras.

Everyone froze, compartmentalizing what they just heard as a tall muscular blond man in a simple black T and long blue jeans walked onto the stage. The President didn't seem put off by the silence from the audience. In fact, he seemed too busy happily shaking the hand of the supposed late Steven Rogers to care (who returned the handshake with a firm look).

The X-Men were in the same boat. Everyone in the room stared blankly at the screen, unable to comprehend was what happening.

Then Kurt perked his head up.

"Wait a minute, wasn't he supposed to be-"

A shattering sounded rang across the room. Multiple X-Men shot up in their seat, thinking one of the protestors outside had thrown something or there was an attack.

They all turned and stopped to see Logan standing dumbly next to the bar, his glass cup having slipped from his hand to lay broken on the ground.

Not that the centuries' old Mutant paid it any mind. His eyes were fully focused on the screen. The others in the room shared uneasy glances at that and the Professor shifted his wheelchair to face him.

"Logan?" The elderly Telepath tentatively called out and gestured to the television. "Is…Is that…"

He didn't answer. Everyone watched as Logan quietly stepped closer to the screen, all but standing in the middle of the room to stare at the conference. At this point Rogers was given the podium, the President conceding the spot with a giddiness more commonly seen on a child.

The audience was still completely quiet and just stared at him on the stand. This went on for an uncomfortable amount of time (not that Rogers seemed put off by it).

Until a hand shakily went up.

"Yes?" He looked at the hand and a mousy brown haired middle-aged reporter very slowly stood up. Sporting a simple white shirt and glasses he thumbed his notepad nervously as he stared up at Rogers.

"Are-Um, sorry-I just-" The man stuttered multiple times. Seemingly choking on his spit at the beginning, Rogers waited patiently for the man to regain his bearings enough to finish his sentence. It took a second, but the reporter was eventually able to speak clearly again. "I-I'm sorry-" For the most part. "B-But…Are you actually Captain A-America?"

The question must have been on the mind of every member of the audience because all of them leaned forward as one. Rogers for his part recoiled slightly in surprise before letting out a huff of amusement. Looking down for a moment, he looked back up with a small smile.

"Well. That's what they called me back in the day. It's what everyone knew me as…But I did have a pretty cool suit and shield then. Since I didn't wake up with those, and the war is over…I don't know. I don't really feel like Captain America right now, if that makes sense." He gave an apologetic smile to the stunned reporter. "But I am Steven Rogers, though my friends just called me Steve. I hope that's not too disappointing."

There was a single, long lull.

Then the room positively exploded in energy. The audience leapt from their seats and screamed their inquiries amidst a bombardment of camera flashes. Roger wordlessly raised a hand to block the flashes from hitting his eyes while secret service members, soldiers and even the President stepped forward to control the crowd of aggressively questioning reporters.

"Will you one day return to being Captain Ameri-"

"Was this planned so you can retire in pe-"

"Who else knew you were aliv-"

"Are you still single-"

The questions asked became lost in the chaos of one another. It took a minute for the any sense of order to be restored and even then, reporters were pushing one another hands to catch Roger's focus.

"You." The Living Legend pointed to another audience member and a young woman with dark hair stood up with barely contained excitement.

"Candance Chung from Times Dispatch. I believe I speak for everyone here when I ask, where have you been all this time? You were reported dead at the end of World War 2 but you don't look a day older than your pictures. How?…Also it's an honor. Sir."

"Nice to meet you too Mrs. Chung." Rogers smiled at the woman (who blushed a fierce red) and took a breath. "And to answer your question, I was sick. The procedure that made me…well, me had some issues and I was dying from it. I was kept in cryofreeze and thankfully my abilities allowed me to survive until a cure was found."

That tidbit sent a wave of surprise and murmurs through the crowd. There was a split second where the eyes of the President began to shift and he unconsciously adjusted his collar but he didn't stop the Captain from speaking.

"How were you cured?" A voice asked from the crowd without prompt, to which the corner of Roger's lip twitched.

"That…I unfortunately can't say. Someone helped me, gave me a cure, but they'd prefer for their involvement to be kept secret. They didn't even give me a name…That being said." Rogers began and looked into the camera with a slight grin. "For the boy who was just hopping by, if you're watching this…you have terrible bedside manners. I hope you know that."

The comment drew a number of confused looks from the crowd. The same was for the X-Men.

Well. For most of them anyway. A certain Bomb Mutant and Power Siphoner, who had the same spark of realization, sat up straighter in their seats and found one another's gaze with a painfully slow turn of their heads. Neither had the ability link or read minds but, in that moment, their thoughts were in perfect unison.

'There's…There's no fucking way…Right?'

The questions continued to flow past the comment. Most of them were basic questions about where he was kept, who authorized the lie that he was dead, how did he feel that he was decades from his former current day. Each one was answered with a steady and measured tone that calmed the initially frantic energy of the conference (though there were still embers of it).

Rogers had gotten through more than a dozen questions and motioned for another reporter who patiently stood up. A lean man in his early 20s with brown hair and chiseled jawline gave a slight bow to the Living Legend.

"Chuck Self from the Daily Bugle sir. It's an honor to meet you in person Captain." He said and took a breath at Roger's nod. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your recovery and return. It wouldn't be wrong to call it a miracle…Though some would say the timing was incredibly strange, wouldn't you agree?"

The President frowned at the seemingly faux question while Rogers just tilted his head.

"How so?"

"Well, at any other time your return would be the story of the century but that's not quite the case now. Perhaps you haven't been made aware but the world has changed quite radically since your day. There's been many…interesting developments in recent times."

"Perhaps you should get to the point of your question so we can continue. The Captain's time is quite valuable." Said Mckenna with a frown and the reporter dipped his head.

"Of course. Let me plain then. Have you heard of the recent Mutant Crisis currently sweeping the nation right now?"

The watching X-Men tensed at the question. Roger tilted head slightly upward in response, leveling a blank look at the man.

"…I have. But I wasn't aware it was a crisis."

"That's what it's being called. The truth of their existence has made many people nervous."

"Why is that a crisis?" Rogers asked suddenly and the question threw the reporter for a bit of loop.

"W-Well, we don't know much about these Mutants and the effect they'll have on the modern age. Supposedly they've even been living in secret for years now right under the people's noses without anyone the wiser."

"Sounds like they wanted to be left alone in peace."

"But isn't that suspicious?" The reporter asked with a frown. "Why hide if you just want to live normal lives? Unless the reason they're hiding is because they've done something wrong, wouldn't it make more sense to reveal themselves to avoid problems like this popping up? What are they afraid of?"

"Probably men like you who assumes the reason someone hides something is because they're ashamed of it."

There was lull after his comment. Every other person in the room looked between the two as if watching a standoff, a comparison that wasn't lost on Self and made him gulp audibly.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"You think Mutants should have revealed themselves to the world because the people deserved to know about them, ignoring their own choice in the matter and if they want to let the world to know or not; which is their decision to make. You also immediately jump to thinking that it could only be for bad reasons that they choose to hide. Not that they may have a good or even understandable one. Lots of people thought like that back in my day…I had hoped it would be different by now."

"I-I'm just paraphrasing." The reporter said, trying to change gears after the tonal shift from the Captain. "A lot of this was pushed forward by Boliver Trask. He's-"

"I know who he is. I know what he preaches. How Mutants are unnatural or that they're a danger to the common man. How they are born different, and because of that they are the Enemy. I knew a man who said very similar things in the past…I didn't agree with him then either."

A hush settled over the venue. There were a number of nervous shuffling and sweating temples as Chuck Self sat back down in his seat with an ashen expression. Rogers looked around for a moment, seeing a lack of eager hands and scratched his neck with a sigh.

"Look. I'll be the first to admit I don't know much about Mutants. Or Super Powered beings in general. In the end I was just a kid from Brooklyn given a chance to save lives and fight for my country but I was never the smartest guy around. This kind of stuff goes over my head…So I'll just stick to doing what I've always done. Protecting innocent people just trying to live their lives. Be they Mutant or otherwise. Thank you for your time."

The silence from the beginning of the conference was loud compared to the ending as Steve Rogers gave a nod and left the podium without looking back. President Mckenna, a bit awkwardly, stepped back up and began the exiting speech in an attempt to regain some levels of the earlier excitement.

Logan didn't wait to listen and immediately turned on his heels.

"Logan-"

"I need to make a call!"

The aforementioned Mutant half yelled as the Professor tried to call after him and rushed through the doors.

On instinct the X-Men in the room were on their feet, Scott and the others quickly standing to follow after Charles (who was chasing after Logan). A hundred and one questions were on everyone's mind but they held off asking to tail after the centuries' old Mutants hurried steps.

Hank appeared down the hall they were rushing through and the beastly Mutant raised his hands.

"Wait, Loga-"

"Not now Furball!" Logan practically growled and side stepped him. "I have to call someone on the main line!"

"I-I get that! But you really should let me tell you-"

Hank's words fell on deaf ears. Logan didn't stop for anything and continued stomping through the halls until they reached the mostly empty foyer of the manor.

Mostly empty, save for the man standing in the middle of the room admiring the expansive entrance and giant hanging chandelier. Everyone's steps came to a screeching halt to stare at the tall blond man in blue jeans, black shoes and brown bomber jacket casually staring up at the ceiling.

He noticed them just as they saw him. Soft blue eyes scanned the crowd of stunned viewers (and one abashed Hank) for a spell, before stopping on Logan leading the head of the pack.

"…Huh." Steve Rogers began with an awed look. "And here I thought I aged pretty gracefully…"

His words echoed in the stark silent room. The others couldn't see his expression but Logan's body was still as stone as he faced the Living Legend.

Then he took a step forward.

"I'm, uh, sorry. For dropping in unannounced like this. The list of people I know that are still alive and can visit is a pretty short one…but I guess that's my fault for expecting otherwise eh?"

Logan took another step forward as Steve rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, seemingly uncaring of his words.

"It was pretty wild to see how things have changed since I was gone. It's like waking up in a whole other world."

Logan stepped closer.

"But you look good James. Healthy. I always figured all those beers would eventually catch up to you-"

A rough hand grabbed Steve's shoulder. Blinking for a moment, the first Super Soldier looked down to a stunned faced Logan. The centuries old Mutant opened and closed his mouth multiple times, doing his best impression of a goldfish. For the first time in a very long time, Logan was at a lost for words.

A hand reached up to mimic his hold, and Steve just gave a warm almost tired nod.

As if he said everything that could be said everyone watched as Logan grabbed a surprised Steve with both hands and pulled him into a deep hug, wrapping his arms fully around his shoulders in a death grip.

Somewhat caught off guard by the gesture, his hand instinctively came to rest on Logan's back and gave him a few pats. Easing his expression as the near total weight of the old Mutant pressed onto him, Steve returned the hug with a soft smile.

"I've missed you too, old friend."

The others in the room watched the reunion in silence. A reunion neither expected to happen and one even lost hope for, even if he always lied to himself about it. No one wanted to ruin it. It was like time stopped.

And at the same, far away in the bowels of a cargo ship crossing the North Atlantic Ocean, luminous green eyes narrowed fiercely into placid hazel ones. They kept contact for a long moment.

Then the greens ones flicked down to his greatly diminished deck. They shot to the other's much larger hand and the owner licked his lips.

"So…You got any 7s?"

"Go fish."

"Oh son of a-"

The world kept on spinning.
A/N: The amount that Logan owes SITodd is becoming almost comically high at this point; especially considering how little they've interacted in this fic (other than the fight in chapter 4, there hasn't been a single sentence shared between the two). From telling the X-Men who took him, to accidentally ruining Magneto and Mystique's plans and avoiding them becoming criminals on the run, to now restoring one of the few people in the world Logan genuinely trusts and respects as an old friend.

He is genuinely racking up a bill that SITodd will most likely never cash because of how avoidant he is of the X-Men, unless things are truly very dire of course.

I almost pity Tabitha and Rogue for being the ones to realize what Steve meant, because no one in their right minds will make that connection despite it being obvious. Even if most of them realized he's changed before he left, it's hard to go from thinking of him as a "teen mutant who regularly abused his powers to do what he wanted and terrorize regular people" to "someone instrumental in curing a dying legendary war hero that set the standard for Superheroes everywhere". That leap in logic is crazy even for a comic book universe.

Also, if it wasn't clear, the conference with Steve wasn't live. Fury was willing to work outside the box and allow Steve to do what Steve does best, inspire Compassion and Hope, but in the event it didn't go the way he expected (and orchestrated) the Director didn't want to leave it open for even more complications. Thankfully it went just about as he wanted.

And of course, SITodd has no idea any of this is happening. Because that's just his luck (writing his reaction when he finds out later will be fun).

Anyway, long author's note aside, I dearly hoped you enjoyed.
 
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Hell yes! It's back! Thanks for the chapter!

Also that's an oof for Trask, lol. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but being compared to Hitler/Red Skull by Captain America on national television... eat shit Trask.

Tabitha and Rogue in here losing their minds, being like "Toad? No, really, Toad?"

Also, can I just say that this fic is hella underrated. It's so good but only has like 200 watchers. I got really lucky in finding it despite that 'cause I usually filter by Watchers when looking for something to read.
 
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I wonder if you'll bring about your own take on Civil War. Because clearly, our country is predisposed to splitting into two sides just by virtue of the two-party system stemming from how our voting works.
 
DraconianGreed said:
I wonder if you'll bring about your own take on Civil War. Because clearly, our country is predisposed to splitting into two sides just by virtue of the two-party system stemming from how our voting works.
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Maybe far down the line when the Evolution world becomes more established, and it'd probably be more of a background thing since more often then not Todd is doing his own thing far from the Superhero community.
 
Thanks for the chapter! Really cool to see the ripple effects of SIToads actions, though I do wonder if Steve will spill about Toad being the one to cure him to the mutants. Looking forwards to more!
 
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