7s and 2s

[Glassed]

Love how it's just never someone Todd actually knows. It's a cliffhanger he's not invited to.

 

[WaywardWriter]

Love how it's just never someone Todd actually knows. It's a cliffhanger he's not invited to.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, he's getting pretty tired of that too Man has meta knowledge and its worth jack shit half the story.

 

[SpectreOfChaos]

hell yea new chapter

 

[ApatheticArchivist]

Thanks for the chapter!

I'm not sure who this is (which is reasonable considering my non-existent knowledge of X-men Evolution or pretty much any other x-men setting either) but she seems interesting. A sword/shield of light, decently strong TK, seems like a decent powerset. A quick search called her Psylocke? Still doesn't ring a bell, lol.

Once again, Todd's isekai curse of 'may you live in interesting times' has shown up at his house and dragged him out to play~

 

[Peacemaren]

Okay, if we're going to get into Betsy Braddock-Kwannon-Psylocke-Revanche stuff, I'm going to need some charts drawn up that explain what the fuck is going on there. Hawthorne1 very kindly tried to explain it to me earlier in this thread and I looked it up afterwards to try and track down exactly what happened, and I am still confused.

 

[Ignacio Antonio]

That fight was fantastic, and like Todd I also know jagkshit about Betsy

 

[WaywardWriter]

Chapter 26: Conspiracy by Moonlight​

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution. I own the OCs.

---

A cold draft swept through the area. The clouds lazily passing overhead could be seen thanks to the massive hole in the ceiling and bits of moonlight shined down on the wrecked warehouse. The original orderly layout now a sea of topped shelves, destroyed inventory and pieces of the ceiling littering the ground.

'Elizabeth Braddock…Elizabeth. Braddock…Lizzie Braaaaaaa-Yeah, no. I got nothing.'

The combined reactions of the Strike Agents and Vicki back at the headquarters, watching through the helmet cams gave me the impression she was someone famous (or infamous) but from the utter lack of anything the name was giving me? Be it from the show, comics or even just the news? This was probably something within house for them.

I stared at the woman standing in the middle, undaunted by the Agents surrounding her (though they had somewhat lowered their weapons) and held her armaments at the ready, eyes still shimmering with that same luminescent purple shine.

I had to give her credit, the woman looked totally unbothered in her position, her face seemingly carved from stone. Add in the very fancy hard light sword and shield and she striked a very imposing image.

"Are you…" Ola started after careful deliberation between him and Vicki (I had been half paying attention). "Are you Elizabeth Braddock?"

She didn't respond at first. Turning her head around one more time in silence, she lowered it a second later and seemingly fell into deep thought.

Then she reached up and pulled down the hood.

…Holy shit.

I made sure the whistle in my head didn't accidently leak through into reality as I took her in. Oh she wasn't just pretty.

She was pretty pretty. Balling parking her age around the early 20s, she had high cheek bones, a chiseled jawline, strong nose, full lips and long flowy hair. This woman had the kind of face that made you wonder what God was smoking when deciding it wasn't enough she got Superpowers, some fucking powerful ones at that (to date the only people I knew that had telekinesis on the level I just faced were Jean and Wanda), he also decided that super model level good looks and being quite tall were totally in the karmic luck budget.

And if I wasn't seeing things when I got a peek at the figure her outfit was tightly hugging?

I've forgotten since leaving Bayville and once being around living examples, but some people really do just win the genetic lottery.

It's…It's honestly kind of annoying. I-I mean, she's a complete knock out don't get me wrong! Total 10/10. Would…But I feel like that is just being plain unfair…

My eye twitched and I had to work to keep a straight face as she leveled a sharp look Ola's way.

"I am Elizabeth Braddock." She said, her voice smooth yet deep. "Though to be recognized so easily by members of Strike after so long…I must have left quite the impression."

Her confirmation sent another wave of surprise through the Agents with Ola's grip on his rifle tightening ever so subtly.

"You could call it that." His said, his voice cold. "If anything seeing you standing there, alive, is a bigger impression."

"I'm not a specter if that's what you're worried about."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you were at this point."

"Hold on. Are we still fighting?" My question rang through the air, drawing their attention my way. Falling silent for a moment, Ola tilted his head towards Elizabeth once more before his tight grip loosened.

"At ease." He said while lowering his rifle. His men followed suit a beat later.

"Just like that?" Elizabeth asked and I could hear a hint of amusement in her voice. "Not going to confirm further? Ask for identification?"

Pausing once more, Ola made a point of fully turning his head to the toppled mega shelves and larger boxes thrown around the destroyed warehouse. He then turned back to the hard light weaponry in her hands.

Even through the mask, I could just tell he was giving her an incredibly dry look.

"I think what we saw as we were coming in and those in your hands are proof enough."

Elizabeth actually laughed at that and gave a curious look as Ola took a small communicator from one of his men. Tossing it to her, the purple sword dematerialized and freed up her hand to catch it. Still keeping her shield somewhat at the ready, Elizabeth held the communicate up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Betsy?" Vicki's voice come through on the channel, sounding low and hesitant. "Is…Is this really you?"

"Victoria." Elizabeth smiled and I watched as the last traces of hardness on her face melted away into something softer. "It's good to hear from you again. It's been some time."

"Been some time? Betsy, we all thought you died. Two years ago. There was a whole funeral and-Just…How?"

"It's…a long story."

I guess we're done fighting.

'I guess so…'

I lowered my fists as Vicki and this Elizabeth continued speaking with increasing levels of familiarity. Seems I was right about there being history, and it didn't sound like bad history either.

Which I was glad for. Tonight was already complicated enough without making enemies of a Superpowered with impressive telekinetic abilities and light weapons. I casually walked over to Ola as he and his men watched the woman speak with their boss. The task force leader turned his head slightly at my approach.

"So. Am I allowed to ask what's the story behind that?"

"…Not within my authority to tell I'm afraid."

"Hmm. I see." Worth a try. "Well, since that's apparently handled, we should probably talk about the main reason we came here tonight."

"Right. The mercenaries. The fight definitely should have drawn some attention but I don't see anyone. I'll tell my men to-"

"I already found them."

"You did? Where?"

"They were over there last I saw…with parts of them over there, others there. I think I saw a head on a shelf somewhere but I didn't get very long to check."

It took a couple seconds for Ola to register what I said. Once the meaning dawned on him, the Agent snapped to full attention.

"They're dead?"

"Dismembered, to be precise. Even before the room came alive and things began to fly everywhere. But from how it looked to me, it seems like something razor sharp and incredibly fast got to them."

I could tell we got to the same conclusion because we both turned to look at Elizabeth. With her still talking to Vicki on the other side, I turned back to Ola.

"How do you want to play this?"

"…Edgar, Christopher, Malcom. Go to the back of the warehouse and see if you can locate their remains." The Agents mentioned gave curt nods before marching in the direction I pointed out. "The rest keep an eye out. You, follow my lead."

I stepped after Ola and we approached Elizabeth, the telekinetic now deep in conversation. Having dematerialized her shield as well, Vicki was speaking as we got closer.

"I heard what happened at the funeral. I'm really sorry about your family Betsy."

"…Thank you." Elizabeth said with a somber look.

"If you need anything-"

"I'm fine. Really. I'm working on something as is to keep my mind off it."

"Perhaps you can share some of what that 'work' entails." Ola interrupted in a stern voice. "Because where we stand, we're short a couple targets and a wrecked building for the trouble."

Elizabeth slowly raised her head to look at us, her formerly shining purple eyes now a cool bright blue. Vicki didn't speak on the channel again, presumably leaving this to Ola's discretion and after a couple seconds of silence, she pursued her lips.

"I didn't know anyone else was tracking those men tonight. If I was aware Strike wanted them, I would have been more mindful of my actions."

"So you admit you killed them?"

"Yes." Her easy admission caught me a little off guard and Ola tilted his head.

"…Why?"

"Because after getting what I needed from their minds, leaving them alive was a liability I didn't need."

If her admitting to brutally chopping up a group of men was unexpected, then the second part caught me completely by surprise.

Fuck…She's a telepath too.

Of course she is. Because telekinesis naturally wasn't enough.

Ola didn't react overtly to her words, the man simply humming in acknowledgment while Vicki didn't chime in at all. The fact neither commented on that aspect gave me the impression this wasn't new. Choosing to keep any worries to myself, we listened as she continued elaborating.

We learned that Elizabeth had been tracking this group for a while, having a run in with other members of the Hound Company a week or so ago. What her conflict with them was Elizabeth didn't say, but she did know why they came here.

And where their next stop was.

"They have a base set up in a military fort northwest of Northampton. This warehouse is just a stopgap; a place to begin the next transport using one of those trucks."

"Next transport?" I echoed with a frown to which she nodded.

"Yes. They typically use the dead of night to mask their movements and bring their cargo under the guise of a delivery company. You…Were you not aware?"

Ola and I shared a glance. As far as we (or at least I) was aware, this just had to do with the attack on the house. The talk of 'cargo' was new.

"Show us the truck they use."

Elizabeth relented to Ola's request/command easily enough, leading the way to a loading dock on the third row. Grabbing the bottom of the metal gate, she pulled it open with one hand to reveal-

Are those…cages?

They were. Large, man-sized cages stacked within the truck and lined up on either side, leaving the middle wide enough for a grown man to walk back and forth comfortably between them. Silently walking onto the truck I looked around at the space, carefully passing a hand at the somewhat rusted steel bars.

These looked like they've seen a lot of use…

"They're traffickers?" Ola asked dimly, also taking long glances at the cages. Elizabeth grew quiet at the question, staring at us for a second before answering.

"Yes. From what I saw in their memories, they've already done a couple trips already. I thought you knew that…But I'm beginning to see you were after them for another reason."

"The glass prison technology." Ola straightforwardly stated and she made an acknowledging sound.

"Ah. Right, should have guessed."

"Do you know where they got them?"

"No. Their leader distributes the Stasis Gel, that's what they call the disk things, and have used them on the targets marked by some sort of radar device. Beyond that they don't know much about how they work. They don't get paid to care."

Huh. A simple way to restrict information flow but effective. Can't beat and torture (or violently extract the truth via psychic means) out of goons when they have no idea on the finer details of a job.

"Then what about their leader? Do you know who he answers to or his last location?"

"No clue. The leader is overseas and currently communicates through encrypted messages. If he told anyone of his employer's identities, it wasn't one of these fools."

"Christ. For a formerly dead woman, you don't know much do you?"

"Well sorry for not being omniscient...Also, what does that have to do with anything?"

"…Uh. Guys?"

"Just seems convenient that those who could support your claim are already dead."

"I don't think they'd be much for talking. A disciplined lot these mercenaries are."

"Guys."

"And we're just supposed to take the word of a woman who disappeared years ago without a trace?"

"I said it was complicated."

"Again. How convenient."

"Oi!" I yelled, looking on in annoyance as they both turned from their standoff to look in my direction. Elizabeht's body was taunt and her glare piercing while the task force leader was puffing his chest out in an aggressive fashion. "I didn't come here to watch an argument that has nothing to do with me. How about we all calm down and focus on why we're all here, hm?"

Especially before Ola picks a fight we will all regret. Seriously, unless the man suddenly gained the capability to combat the very scary psychic woman, he most likely expected me to handle it.

And I was most assuredly not going to do that. Not for someone else's mouth.

Your own gets you in enough trouble as is.

They both stared for a moment (a lot of silent stares with these people) until Elizabeth broke the standoff, looking away with a scowl. Ola took a second longer but he too backed off, his men watching the whole interaction returning to their somewhat relaxed positions.

"Right. Well, we have a couple of their pals still in custody. Why don't we just bring her to them to get more information?"

"Out of the question. They are under Strike purview and she is not authorized to access them." Ola shot the suggestion down immediately and I rolled my jaw.

"Hey Vick. You want to jump in on this?"

"…Ola has the right of it. There's nothing more I can add."

Her voice was monotone and curt. A hurt expression flashed across Elizabeth's face but it quickly simmered into an understanding grimace. I rubbed my temple with one hand.

"Alright. Then, how about that base she mentioned? It's the next best lead we got." The only lead really but I didn't mention that part.

"…That's actionable." Ola said in a perfectly even tone. "We'll have someone at the base gather all the information we have on the fort, sent in a recon team and create a plan to infiltrate."

"You'll have to do it quickly then." Elizabeth spoke up and elaborated when we looked to her. "Before I arrived, one of the men came back from a mission gone wrong and they alerted the fort about the failure. And how a lot of their men were captured by unknown parties. The fort is supposedly being emptied as we speak and they were told to wait for transport out of the country."

Oh for the love of fucking-

"Did you grab the device they used to alert them?" Ola asked and received a small burner phone from Elizabeth.

"Well?" I asked after he passed it to one of his men who began tinkering with the device.

"While triangulating the origin of the call before won't be difficult-"

"I also know the way from their memories." Elizabeth added, cutting him off. Ola paused briefly before continuing.

"But I have a great many reservations about sending my team into hostile territory with little to no information save for the word of an unreliable variable."

…I couldn't tell if that last bit of shade thrown at Elizabeth was made with directed intent but I understood his point. I sometimes forgot most people aren't willing to just jump headfirst into dangerous and unknown situations without some measure of a plan. Most people were more rational than that.

I was not most people.

"You." I pointed at Elizabeth and the woman blinked owlishly. Looking behind her, I rolled my eyes when she pointed a manicured finger at herself. "Yes you. I'm assuming you were going to follow through on your discovery before we showed up right? Has that changed in any way?"

"Not at all." She said instantly and took in my form with a confused look. "I still plan to head over to the fort."

"Great. Let me go with you."

My request was met with less reactions than I expected. The expressionless Agents watching around us took glances at one another, shrugs being shared the limit of any outward opinion.

Tough crowd.

Ola tilted his head my way, then looked back to Elizabeth before slumping his shoulder with a faint sigh. The psychic woman herself just quirked a brow.

"That's not a bad idea." Vicki said quickly, still listening in. "If we can't mobilize a larger force in time before they fully evacuate then you might as well see what you can learn. A few people can move about much faster than an entire team. Sneaking will definitely be easier and you both can handle yourselves if push came to shove."

"You won't have to risk any of your own men either." I said to appease Ola and turned to Elizabeth. "So?"

"…My car is parked a block away from here." She said with a nod. "The fort is about a 20-minute drive from Northampton but from here it usually took them 2 hours."

"Hope your car is faster than a big ass truck carrying metal cages."

"Just barely." Elizabeth smirked and my smile widened at the cheekiness.

"Actually." Vicki interjected as Ola stepped away and reconvened with his men, commanding them to begin wiping traces of their presence and transporting the bodies. "I think I have a better alternative."

---

30 Minutes Later

My grip on the handles of my chair grew stronger as the cabin rumbled with a low groan. Each time the heavy winds outside buffeted the hull and made it shake I breathed a little harder through my nose until the noise died down. When that didn't work I tried to distract myself by admiring the inside of the Strike Jet.

It was a futuristic aircraft of dark blues and flashing whites with red buttons littering the walls. The interior was large but used the space well with the layout accommodating for a dozen operatives, though it was pretty barren right now. A platform rested in the middle of the walkway where two masked Agents were messing with a projection that depicted the land passing by under us.

Two more Agents were at the very front cockpit, piloting the Strike Jet towards our destination. From how Vicki explained it, the reason we didn't use the jet earlier was because flying one within the airspace of a major metropolis like London required permission from higher up and a simple truck worked fine at the time.

The cloaking feature also didn't work nearly as well amidst the artificial lighting of a city and worked far better in the dark open sky over the countryside (the cloud cover helped too).

While I couldn't remember the exact details, I distantly wondered if the Blackbird had similar issues. Knowing the usual bullshit the X-Men had on hand, I wouldn't be surprised if their super jet was ultra special and didn't have the same limi-

The next justle of the cabin was little harder than the previous. Not enough to knock any of the Agents off their feet; matter of fact none of them seemed to notice it.

The metal under my hands groaned a tiny, unpleasant sound. Taking a couple long breaths, I relented my grip slightly when the jet regained its usual smooth flight.

We've been on a plane that went to Magneto's asteroid thing in orbit. We've fallen from buildings and higher places. We fly. With our literal rocket boots. How are you this freaked out?

'I'm not a fan of being ferried miles above the ground by something outside of my own control. Sue me. That doesn't mean I'm freaking out.'

The handles you're about to tear from their placements say otherwise.

They weren't about to tear off. A bit dented sure but someone should have installed finger groves on these things anyway. They were real uncomfortable-

"You're not a part of Strike, are you?"

The question came from Elizabeth standing to my right. The psychic woman was previously sitting in the opposite side of the jet and had walked over at some point. Pausing at her sudden proximity, I took another deep breath when the jet swayed again (sweet lord are they driving drunk up there?) before answering the woman.

"No. I'm…honestly, I don't really know what would be the technical designation for what I am. A freelancer, I guess?"

"You guess?" She echoed with a raised brow and I shrugged.

"I'm not very big on labels." Perhaps freelancer didn't work either since I'm not directly getting paid for this but I didn't have a better word at the moment. I outstretched a hand to her. "Todd Tolansky. I also go by Toad. Whichever you prefer."

"Elizabeth Braddo-…I'm sorry. Did you just say Toad?"

I laughed at how she paused mid handshake to register my title and ask in disbelief.

"Unironically, yes." That reaction never got old. "I'm a Mutant. I can do everything a toad can and then some."

"…So that green fleshy whip was a tongue? I thought I was just seeing things…" I watched in amusement as Elizabeth mumbled under her breath, visibly befuddled by the idea of amphibian themed superpowers.

Ironic coming from a woman that can move things with her mind and read the thoughts of others…I probably should stay quiet.

Eventually Elizabeth just shook her head and finished the handshake.

"Anyway. I wanted to apologize, about the fight." I gave her a strange look as she began explaining herself. "When I sensed your group approach the warehouse I thought reinforcements were somehow alerted and planned to leave while I could. When you entered through the roof and started scaling the ceiling however I grew uneasy. I didn't want to be caught outside in case they had other Superpowered on their side so I hoped to take you out of the fight in a sneak attack and escape in the chaos."

"Clever, though a little pointless since I pretty distracted by the bloodbath you left behind." While I had noticed how fresh the carnage was, I didn't have a bead on her position in the giant warehouse. She probably could have just left through the front and she blinked when I told her as much.

"Oh…Still. I hope there's no hard feelings."

"Why would there be?"

"…Because I nearly killed you?"

She jumped when I burst out in laughter. Going on for a couple long seconds and feeling my stomach genuinely start to hurt, I wiped the tears from my eyes as I smiled up at her totally lost face.

"Elizabeth. If I held a grudge for every time one of my friends either manhandled, blasted, knocked me out and/or put my life in danger through some shenanigan or another, I'd have no friends at all." Lance, Fred, Wanda, Tabitha, Rogue, Callum, Nadya. Hell, even Lionel shoved a revolver in my face and threatened to blow it off on our first meeting. It was a rite of passage for me at this point. "Seriously though, I don't care about stuff like that. We're good."

"…What kind of friends do you have?"

"Get ready. We're about to arrive."

Ola called out from beside the projection, interrupting our conversation. Nodding to Elizabeth I stood and, very slowly, made my way to the Agent. With his helmet off and placed on the side I could see the placid expression on the veteran Agent's face, his features not shifting a bit as I came up beside him.

"I got to say, I'm still a little surprised you chose to come with after the whole spiel about not risking your men. Does that same level of concern not apply to yourself?"

"Something like that." He admitted plainly. "While I can't authorize, nor personally want to send in a team that could potentially be under equipped and wiped out for it, this is still a Strike related matter. My safety is inconsequential in comparison to making sure the agency fulfills its purpose."

"That's…respectable." A little culty but I guess he was just a true believer in the cause. Not the worst thing to have. "But just to play devil's advocate, isn't meeting danger head on an inherent thing about being part of peace keeping organization? You weren't 100 percent sure your men were prepped for the warehouse after all."

"Those are different circumstances. While we do undertake dangerous and often deadly missions, we still do our best to minimize risk." Ola explained. "The warehouse was scouted before we even arrived, backup was an option due to the proximity of the base and we had a 'freelance' but partially vetted Mutant on the field. Now? We're miles from London, on a timetable we have no exact numbers on, not until we hit the ground at least, and a Superpowered of still uncertain motive."

That last part was said with the most emphasis and showed his real focus. I was growing more and more curious of the shared history between Strike and Elizabeth, because despite his words they still seemed willing to work alongside her rather than completely shut her out.

They found you and gave you an in because of how awesome and strong we are. Maybe this is something similar and they just don't want to have her out of sight?

'Maybe.' Perhaps Vicki did the same thing she did to me with Elizabeth but even then, they never exhibited the same level of distrust they were showing her. Strike seemed fine with me keeping a couple secrets and not forcing them. The psychic woman wasn't afforded the same leeway apparently.

The Strike Jet started to descend. Tensing as I felt the cabin shift and my stomach doing that dropping sensation, I (not shakily, no matter what Toad said) followed Ola to the cockpit. Elizabeth was already there, looking over the shoulder of a pilot and through the front windows.

I had taken a look earlier and while I've already seen similar during my own test flights at night, it was always a joy to see the endless sea of white clouds stretching out in all directions. Whatever rays the moon could give in its current wanning transition shined brightly against the fluffy material, blanketing them in almost silver light.

We sank through the clouds and came out the bottom to a clear view of the countryside. In comparison to lots of places in the states, Southern England had a lot of rolling hills, flat plains and low land that created modest valleys. With the occasional lake and rustic town to break up the monotony, there was very little in terms of civilization around.

I saw the fort before anyone could point it out for two reasons. The first was the lack of any farms or even roads nearby, leaving nothing but vast stretches of empty grass fields and nothing else beyond the fort.

The second was that the place positively earned its name because it was a fortress.

Massive stone walls, multiple large watch towers at the corners, an honest to God moat around the perimeter; it laid atop a great mound which granted it an advantageous view of the surrounding lands. The sheer size could easily fit an army.

And it did. An army I mean. Dozens upon dozens of men and woman in combat gear moved around the massive courtyard within the fort's walls. Many different tents were strung up while 8 or so large trucks were parked near the main gates. Black boxes, crates and other heavy-duty equipment was being slowly hauled onto the trucks by the mercenaries.

Ola, Elizabeth and I stared at the brightly lit yard from our high vantage point as the jet came to a still.

"I thought you said they were traffickers." Ola's voice cut through the silence first, his formerly passive expression now tight.

"That's what I saw in their memories." Elizabeth said with a frown. "They bring whoever they capture to the fort but the men I tracked only worked within their group. I never expected there to be so many others…"

"This is a whole operation. No mere traffickers should be able to commandeer a fort in the middle of the country and not to this extent. Not without us knowing about it."

"Sir. You may want to see this."

One of the Agents at the projection said and we walked over to see it had a configurated into a detailed 3-D model of the fort. Turning the projection with a flick of their hand, the view of the fort zoomed in and depicted the very ground floor of the courtyard.

The model flickered for a moment, the blue and white pixels slowly forming to match a live rendition of the many bodies moving about down there. One figure caught my eye amongst the many. A feminine figure with long hair and angular features stood nonchalantly in the middle of the yard as if overseeing the work.

The woman was built like a brick shithouse, her arms and legs longer than what was normally proportionate to her body. She had odd fins protruding from the corners of her cheeks and almost serpentine eyes. I was staring at the woman's projection when Ola spoke.

"Blanche Sitznski." He practically spat the name; his agitation now mixed with cold anger.

Uh. Gesundheit?

"Who is that?" I asked and Ola's eyes hardened.

"Blanche Sitznski, Codename: Anaconda. A high-ranking commander of the Blackguards. She's wanted in at least 20 countries, England being one of them, and she's a fucking Superpowered. How is she here?"

No one had an answer to his question so we watched as the projection shifted away from the woman. Other men and woman were rendered as time passed with Ola recognizing many of them.

"Anton Rodriguez, a lieutenant of the Wild Pack. Jim Pruitt, cyber security specialist from Anvil Corp. McCal Sacrat, arm's dealer of the Urban Alliance…"

Each man he named was an active member of a mercenary group or Private Military for Hire. While Blanche was the only Superpowered among them (that we could see), the rest were still internationally known and very much wanted men.

I couldn't tell what was more shocking to Ola. That so many dangerous persons of interest were gathered in one place or that Strike had no idea any of this was happening right in their backyard. Regardless, from the hard look in his eyes, the importance of this mission just jumped multiple levels.

A plan of action was quickly made. Stealth had already been the initial focus but now with a Superpowered on the field, it became a higher priority.

Strike had a file a mile long on Blanche. She was an experienced mercenary, having been in the business for over a decade. Possessing the ability to breath underwater and elongate her limbs to strike and wrap around her enemies, she also had enhanced physical capabilities. She was stronger and faster than she looked so Ola warned us to avoid her.

We chose one of the towers as our point of entry. Standing a couple meters taller than the others, there were 6 armed soldiers keeping sentry and posted around a single stairway leading down into the fort.

The Strike Jet maneuvered above the tower, coming to a hovering position overhead though still keeping a hundred feet or so away.

A section of the floor in the back parted open, revealing the long drop to the tower and the unaware guards. I crouched by the opening, the wind blowing in my face as Elizabeth stood next to me. Ola was putting on his helmet and grabbing his rifle.

"So you're going to fly us down there?"

"Not exactly. It's more that I'll control our descent and slow us when we get close. Quickly flying is a tad…tricker."

"I'm confused." I said with a frown. "Because I distinctly remember you using the entire inventory and packaging of a storage warehouse to squash me like I was an ornery toad."

"Oh don't get me wrong. I can definitely get all of us down there fast. It just takes a certain level of finesse and splitting my focus to not fling both of you around at speeds that would kill a regular person. People are fragile, go figure."

"…I'd ask if you're speaking from personal experience, but that'd feel stupid after seeing your handiwork." Elizabeth just gave me a small smile and a chill ran down my spine. Those poor bastards never stood a chance. "It's fine. I got my own way down as is."

She tilted her head while Ola gave me a look.

"You'll need to be fast. Can you do it?"

To that I gave him a wide grin.

"I'll see you guys on the ground."

Then, I stepped off the ledge.

I went into a free fall. My stomach did another flip as I saw the opening grow farther and farther away soon becoming hard to see in the backdrop of the dark sky. Turning in the air, I dove headfirst towards the tower. I went stiff, placing my arms close to my sides and closing my legs to minimize wind resistance.

Leveraging the ever-unbiased pull of gravity, none of the guards noticed me dropping the hundred feet without a sound.

'Shift 1.' Activating the weakest yet quietest mode of my rocket boots, the push it gave me helped drive the elbow directly into the collarbone of a guard on landing.

Feeling something give with haunting ease, I twisted my ankle and allowed the momentum to carry me to another set of guards as the first one dropped with a strangled but muffled groan. The second guard got a hard shoulder check to his back, sending him flying across the tower towards another guard.

The former smacked into the latter and they crumpled against the stone in a heap. By the time I deactivated my boots and the sound of their bodies hitting the stone rang out, I was already between two guards standing next to each other and in the process of turning around.

Neither expected the twin strikes to their Adam's apples. Nor the shot to their ribs for one and the backhand to the temple for the other.

In the mere seconds it took for me to clear one half of the rooftop and drop 2/3 of the other, the last remaining guard was none the wiser as I saddled up behind him. He just smoked a cigarette and stared absentmindedly in a random direction.

He would have cried out in pain when my fist buried itself into the base of his spine if I didn't loop an arm around his neck and pulled him into a headlock.

His scream became a choked gasp as my arm tightened, applying ever growing pressure on his windpipe until he couldn't even let loose a squeak. I ignored his flailing and desperate attempts to pry my arm open, kicking his feet from under him so his struggles just made him lose air faster. In his panic he never tried to reach for his gun hanging on his chest (not that it would have worked since I was keeping an eye out for it but still. Odd).

I focused my hearing for a moment. As the man's struggles ramped up to levels of desperation verging on hysterical I waited for a peep of someone moving around downstairs, the bustling yard now clear to me as well. I waited for a change of any kind. A voice coming up the stairs. A shift in the hurriedly moving and packing mercenaries.

By the time the man's actions ceased and he just hung limply in my arms, I found no worrying change or signs that anyone noticed. I kept my hold for a solid 15 extra seconds before quietly lying the man on the ground.

Wow…That shade of purple and blue cannot be healthy.

I turned my head to see Ola and Elizabeth levitate to the ground, their footfalls soft against the hard stone.

Nobody wasted time on landing. Ola immediately took point and looked down the stairs, keeping an angle as Elizabeth telekinetically moved all the unconscious guards to one corner of the tower. Going ahead and restraining them with my Mucus, the psychic woman kneeled down and placed her hand against one of their foreheads.

She kept her eyes open so I was able to see the moment the original purple glow returned to them. A tendril of similar purple pulsed from her fingers into the man's head. Doing this for a full minute without saying a word, the purple tendrils faded and she took her hand away.

"You got it?" Ola asked through our communicators and Elizabeth took a breath.

"Yes."

"Good. Take point; we'll be right behind you."

Nodding, we shadowed Elizabeth down the stairs, they themselves set in a spiral design leading to a barracks, empty save for an old wooden chair and dust covered desk. With two archways leading in separate directions, we quickly but quietly followed Elizabeth when she chose one without hesitation.

The halls of the fort were made with varying lengths and widths. Grey stone, while well maintained, were mostly bare of any ornaments or decorations that would give the place a sense of history.

As we got closer to the lower levels however, the halls became more cluttered. Boxes with unknown symbols littered the walkways. Long rocks half full of assault rifles, sniper rifles, body armor, grenades, night vision goggles, etc. We passed smaller personal quarters full of beds connected to bathrooms and other utilities needed for living, though they looked freshly stripped clean.

Elizabeth moved through the fort as if she knew the place like the back of her hand. Every once in a while she would wordlessly raise her palm and we'd hide behind whatever was nearby, watching men and women pass by us in a hurry. Most of them were carrying one thing or another; sometimes even working together to carry large crates somewhere.

That became more common as we approached the lower levels of the fort. She hadn't been lying about them being in a rush to evacuate and we had to be extra careful not to draw any attention.

Thankfully, we reached our destination before long.

The corridor we stepped into was different to the other areas we just passed through. Narrow and drafty, a number of columns on one side acting as open windows to a lower dining hall, it was made even more cramped by how much equipment was shoved in there. Cables snaked inside, attached to artificial lights and long white floor mats to give it the feel of a lab.

On one side there was a row of computers attached to a bunch of servers and filing cabinets. The odd empty space next to them and the faint dust outlines on the ground hinted at some things being moved recently. On the other there were a number of workstations with vials of red liquids placed in stands, small boxes and expensive machinery.

The two men in white coats currently working in the pseudo lab both paused at our arrival. The closest scientist, a young man with short brown hair and a goatee stopped shoving papers into a satchel to stare at us.

"Who the hell-"

That was all he got out before his body went stiff, his eyes going wide as he and the other scientist in the room began to slowly lift a few inches off the ground, their bodies completely locked in place.

With a twist of her wrist, Elizabeth forced them to stand straight and slowly levitate in her direction. Ola walked around the young man and stepped up to one of the computers while the psychic woman did her Vulcan mind meld trick.

My eyes roamed across the space. Standing near the entrance to the corridor and keeping an eye out, I let my eyes roam around the area, eventually going to the untended side once I realized I had no idea what Ola was doing.

Alongside the vials and (weirdly familiar) machines, on the actual workstations I saw a couple of those Stasis Gel disks lying in a stack, one of which was split open and the internal wiring strung about for anyone to see. Next to those was a strange looking device. Having the loose shape of a lamp with a mini satellite dish sticking out the top, it had a chrome exterior with a single button in its center.

I didn't know when my feet unconsciously brought me to the table. Gently picking it up, I found it to be heavier than it looked, the chrome was faded from age.

"Hey Ola." I called out and held up the device. "Do you recognize this?"

The Agent looked away from the computer he was finicking with to give it a glance.

"It looks like the thing the retrieval team sent to our SE department after the attack." Ola said. "Do you see any files near that table? Or is it marked?"

There were. A bunch of boxes with dozens of folders neatly organized inside. Already guessing how long that would take to look through them all, I started turning the device over and tried to find a mark or label or something. I turned it left, right, and looked on top and didn't find anything.

Then I flipped it upside down.

And there, tapped to the bottom, was a white slip.

"Deviant Detector, Iteration III…"

The air in the corridor/lab stilled for a moment. Ola turned back to the computer and quickly began typing. I came up behind him and looked over the Agent's shoulder to see him scrolling through a number of digital files, many of them seemingly corrupted or had empty folders. After putting the name in the search bar, he clicked on the most recent file.

We leaned in as a short report appeared on the screen.

"Iteration III, penned by a doctor M.Q." I began reading aloud. "Increased range at the cost of pinpoint triangulation. Further testing is needed to improve upon the homing system. Currently incompatible with Surveillance Grid but ready for field use…The hell does that mean-"

A harsh snapping sound echoed in the room. Ola and I swiveled on our feet to the source and stood dumbfounded to see Elizabeth still holding both scientists aloft, the one she had been mind reading now having his neck bent at a decidedly fatal angle. That wasn't what had my attention funnily enough.

Instead, it was the look of utter wrath on Elizabeth's angelic face.

"No…" She whispered hotly. Before either of us could respond she dropped the dead and living man, the latter smacking his head hard on the ground with what felt like purposeful intent.

Ola took a tentative step forward.

"Hey, Bradd-"

She was off as Ola started, using the enhanced speed I saw at the warehouse and blazing past us. Caught off by the sudden charge, and unsure what was the correct course of action, I watched as she disappeared down the corridor and through the entrance lying at the end.

I locked eyes with Ola's featureless visor.

"…"

"…"

"…Well go after her!"

"Me!?" I half screeched. "Why?! Where is she going?"

"Fuck if I know!" Ola spat, the former effortless composure now showing signs of cracks. "But I need some time with these servers. We still don't know who's running this whole operation and the last thing we need is for her to alert half the fort by running off to do…whatever the hell she's planning to do before I'm done!"

"…Oh god damn it." What was this, have a rational explanation for everything day? "Are you sure you'll be okay here alon-"

"I'll be fine! Just go!"

That was all the confirmation I needed. Turning on my feet as Ola took out a hand sized drive and connected a wire from it to one of the servers, I rapidly hopped down the corridor after Elizabeth. The fact neither of us heard surprised shouting or fighting in the direction she took, I assumed the way was relatively clear (for now).

The doorway she left through led to a short flight of stairs heading further down. Possessing no other path beside to another open archway curving to the right, I practically flew to the bottom and stuck my head around the corner.

I paused and took in the space I found. The room itself was sizable. The width was large enough to fit multiple classrooms and the ceiling stood at least 30 feet high, bright white lights beaming down. The size gave me the impression it formerly a barracks or storage but whatever it was used for once was long gone. What remained were a bunch of tall, sleek white and silver cages with thick glass.

And the strange figures within them.

I tentatively walked between the cages, they themselves arranged in a grid and allowed me to see the ones facing other ways. My arrival stirred a couple of the figures and they stared at me with varying looks of confusion, distrust, shock and/or stoney coldness. I took a good look at each of them in turn.

A tall, lanky Caucasian teenager with unkempt brown hair, soft hazel eyes and a mouth leaking crackling fire.

A petite Asian girl with short black hair and who looked like she belonged in middle school. She stared in fear from behind a shimmering carapace of red light.

A pretty but disheveled red head that appeared to be in her late teens, a fiery orange aura flickering sporadically around her.

A Middle Eastern woman with brown hair surrounded in a hail of dust that scratched against her prison. A teenage girl with bright pink hair, dragon-fly wings and pitch-black eyes. An older, middle aged woman with yellow scales covering parts of her skin and bright lizard eyes. And-

I'm sorry. Is that a fucking Golem?

I openly stared at what I could only describe as a massive boulder granted life and taking a humanoid form. Possessing white eyes where the face would (presumably) be, it stared back at me with a flat glare and I forced myself to continue on. All of them wore a form of prison attire, even the giant Golem.

The entire past night was instantly reviewed in my mind. A less than stellar moment to do it but it was the first real moment of calm I've had. I mentally combed through everything I've learned. Of the mercenaries who attacked the house. Of the warehouse, and the fort and now-

'The Stasis Gel. Traffickers. Deviant Detector. Superpowered prisoners…'

Each discovery bounced around in my mind for a paradoxically long yet short moment. And I arrived at the only coherent conclusion.

Those guys didn't break into the house for Lionel, did they?

The answer to that, arrived with a harsh shoving of hands against glass. I turned to the last prison and saw a pale woman's face looking at me with piercing blue eyes. On closer inspection, her skin wasn't just pale but a chalky white. Her hair was long and poofy with an almost bluish hue to it, her lips a natural dark black.

She was beautiful, even in the same unflattering outfit and disheveled state the rest of the prisoners had but I didn't see that at the time.

Because my gaze was fully locked on the circular, black mark around her left eye.

'Domino…'

…Wait a minute, you know this lady? Really!?...Holy shit!

I tuned Toad out as the "Lucky" Mutant herself banged the bottom of her fists against the glass but no sound came through. She tried to speak but that also failed. Seeing me not react Domino's face twisted in anger and frustration though she didn't stop banging.

My hand immediately went to my communicator.

"Ola. We have a problem."

"What happened? Did you find Elizabeth?"

"No. I found the people they were trafficking. They're in fancy cages a floor below." I said and there was a moment of silence on other side.

"How many?" He asked and hummed in thought when I answered. "That's…It's going to be difficult to get them out without being noticed."

"Ola…They're Mutants." I might as well told him that the sky was falling for the stony silence came back. "I know what we came here for, believe me, I haven't forgotten…But I think getting them out before the ones in charge of transporting them arrive and bring them to wherever they plan may be a tad bit more important. Don't you think?"

There was another lull.

"Give me a minute."

I did. Standing there as Domino continued talking and trying to get my attention, at some point I just raised a single finger towards her. It took her a second to realize what I meant and she calmed down. We waited another minute.

The lights above flickered. I looked up to see a number of red lights at the top of the cages go dark (I never even noticed them).

"What was that?" I asked. "Was that you?"

"Yes." He answered curtly. "I was able to turn off the early warning system from a terminal here. Small blessings that. The locking mechanism for the cages are on a different auxiliary system though. You'll have to find your own way to free them."

"You're my new favorite secret Agent Ola."

He didn't respond to that. Walking up to Domino's cell I placed two hands on the corners of the door, one over the locked handle and the other at the top hinge.

She took a step back as my Toxin did its magic. Smoke wafted off my hands as the metal corroded and was melted through, leaving gaping holes to the parts holding up the door. Waiting for my Toxin to go from the top hinge and burn its way down to the lowest one I grabbed the smoldering edges.

There was a bit of exertion required; the door was fucking heavy, but I was able to pry it off with a harsh tug and place it to the side like an oversized paper weight.

Domino stared blankly at the opening, moving her gaze to the wrecked door before finally looking at me.

"Thank you." She said, her voice low and husky, probably from a lack of water.

I was already on the move before I could think on it. I went to each cell, doing the same thing to theirs. Most of their cells were pretty uniform so it didn't take me very long to break all of them out.

My actions stirred something in them. Even those who were looking on with fear and heavy distrust still hurriedly rose from where they were sitting, waiting at their cell doors as I tore them away. I noticed out of the corner of my eye how a couple had to be coaxed out by their friends as I left to handle another cell.

It was with the final cell pried off, the Caucasian teen with the fire spewing mouth not even waiting for me to fully pull the door away to hop out, that I threw the hunk of junk on the ground and dusted my hands.

I turned around to a multitude of eyes staring at me. Pausing as the captive Mutants stood behind me lined up in a row and all quietly looking at me, I held the group staring contest for a moment.

"So." Domino then spoke up, a hand on her waist. "What now?"

"…Hey Ola, I'm going to send a couple of people your way." I said in my communicator. "Just watch over them for a minute. I still haven't found Elizabeth but I'll try to be quick."

"Copy."

"There's going to be a set of stairs going upstairs over there. Take it up to this hallway with a bunch of lab crap and you'll see this dude in a blue and black outfit, he'll have a symbol like this on his arm." I explained while padding the Strike emblem on my shoulder. "He's pretty quiet but reliable. Just hang with him for a minute. I need to go find a scary purple haired woman but after I'm done we'll work on getting you guys out of here, alright?"

There was a couple glances shared between the freed captives. Silently staring amidst one another, Domino stepped forward with overly pursued her lips.

"Well. You heard the man; Let's go!"

That got a fire going under their asses. With the flame spewing teen and dragon fly girl leading the charge, I stepped aside to watch them quickly move across the room and begin the trek up the stairs. I gave a grateful look to Domino who returned it with a simple smirk.

"Ummm." I then blinked and looked down to see the middle school Asian girl standing in front of me. She was pointing at an open door off to the side. "S-She went that way."

I looked to the door, then back at the girl.

"Thanks."

Blushing a bright red, the girl lowered her head and Domino escorted her out with the others. The Lucky Mutant stopped at the threshold of the stairs, looking back at me and giving a small nod before going out of sight.

I continued onward. Going the way she pointed, I rapidly hopped down a long hallway, this one sloping downward at a steep angle. The air became chillier and stilted the walls narrowing as I got farther down. I saw a set of wrought iron double doors at the end of the cramped hall and quickly reached it in another two hops, the doors slightly ajar.

The room I entered was…well, it reminded me of a dungeon. The ceiling was low, spiderwebs and cracks littering the stone above. A couple aged wooden table were pushed to the corner (which were full of ominous dark stains) and were full of a number of incision and medical tools.

There was a complete lack of windows or natural light. Whatever light did exist was a bright clinical white beam from one half of the room that made the shadows on the other side more prominent. I had to squint and wait for my sight to naturally adjust to the intense light.

I wasn't even surprised to see the giant tube standing in the darkness. Full of some green liquid, an incredibly tall and muscular man with long black hair floated within. There were a number of cables attached to his body along with a breather for his mouth. His eyes were closed as if asleep and he was mostly bare save for his black shorts.

When I could finally look at the light without burning my retina, it was as if someone didn't get the memo that this was supposed to be a dungeon and cut out a part of a hospital room. Painted a pure white and clean to an almost aggressive degree, there were a number of life preservation machines and pumps.

And there, on a high-tech medical bed, was a naked woman.

She looked to be Asian. Tall and muscular in the way an Olympic athlete was (though she was quite gifted in the…other departments as well), she possessed a number of faint scars across her body. She had a head of long black hair strung across the headrest, a sculpted face that naturally looked stern and a beauty mark under her lips. Her appearance made me stare for a moment. It was out of place even compared to everything I've seen here.

I nearly missed Elizabeth lying on the ground in front of her, motionless.

I didn't even think, practically sliding to her side and kneeling down.

"Oi! Hey, what happened?!" I half yelled, pushing her face up from where it was looking at the ground and internally cursed when I saw her unresponsive expression. Her eyes were rolled up to the back of her and her mouth was wide open, her body completely limp and without strength.

I went to pick her up. While I knew you typically weren't supposed to move people without proper medical training, especially not in her condition, I didn't think it was a coincidence Elizabeth was in this state so close to the unknown Asian woman on a medical bed. So it was with half an eye on the woman, I picked up the psychic woman and began carrying her to the other end of the room.

Except by the time I took a couple steps away from her, Elizabeth lurched in my arms. Snapping her eyes open, I openly cursed as a knife of purple energy erupted from her hand and she tried to stab at my neck.

"Oh we're not doing this again!"

"Wha-" I half dropped Elizabeth, catching her wrist and pushing the sharp edge away. Still propping up half her body, the psychic woman rapidly blinked up at me in confusion. Her eyes were bloodshot. "Todd? Why are you-Urgh…Hnnnnnn-FUCK!"

Elizabeth fell from my arms. Collapsing to her knees, she held her head with both hands and went into a fetal position. My earlier anger quickly shifted to worry and I kneeled down again next to her.

"Hey. Elizabeth…Betsy?" I tentatively called out as she held her pose, grappling with what seemed like the mother of all migraines (wow, she was sweating a lot). Placing a comforting hand on her back, I tilted my head down. "Listen, I…have no fucking clue of what's going on here, but we need to go. We have-"

"NO!" She snapped her head up while yelling that, and immediately looked to regret it as she flinched, veins on her forehead pulsing. She powered through however with gritted teeth. "W-We need take her with us! We can't leave her here!"

"…Sure." Honestly, at this point I stopped caring. We already had a bunch of new tagalongs to bring with us. What was one more? "But how exactly are we going to do that when being close to her leaves you like…this?"

"I-I-I'll be fine." She barely managed to squeeze out, her breath faint. She glared at my utterly dead stare. "I-I will. I just wasn't expecting it to be so…disorienting. B-but I'm fine now. Really. I can handle-Fuck me…"

I was not at all confident as she stopped to rub her horrifically aching head for a couple seconds but she wasn't going to relent. Eventually regaining some of her earlier bearings, Elizabeth got back to her feet with my help and she raised a shaky hand at the Asian woman.

There was a screech of metal bending and wires being ripped as the medical bed was torn to pieces, some of the life preservation systems being disconnected from the woman. The woman herself was left untouched by the carnage and while Elizabeth flinched, she still kept a firm hold as she gently started floating towards us.

I internally questioned the wisdom in doing that but kept such thoughts to myself. I turned my gaze away when the naked woman floated close enough that I can clearly see her more intimate parts.

It stopped on the man floating in the green tube. Staring at him for a moment, I tapped Elizabeth on the arm.

"What's his deal?"

"Mutant." She said breathlessly. "Stronger than the others. He would consistently try to escape containment when they conducted tests so they had to separate him from the others and place him in a more secure spot."

So she knew they were Mutants and didn't say anything? Thanks for the heads-up lady…

I looked to him again at that explanation.

"So's he a fighter? Probably has a grudge for the assholes who placed him in here?"

"Uh…I suppose?"

Good enough for me.

Crossing the distance in a few long strides, I stood in front of the tube and saw a panel in front of it. Seeing it was full of a multitude of different colored buttons, I blankly stared at the array with no letters or obvious labels.

"It's the big red button in the middle." Elizabeth called out. I exhaled softly through my nose.

"Of course it is…" You'd think they would have key cards or an access code to release the super dangerous hostile Mutant but you know. Evil Marvel Organizations. I pressed the big red button.

There was a decompression sound at the top of the tube. With steam exiting the top and the green liquid bubbling, I watched it slowly begin to drain away. The man slowly floated to the ground as the liquid disappeared into the floor and eventually landing on his feet.

He groggily opened his eyes halfway through the transition. Blinking multiples time, he leaned on the glass with one hand upon landing, weakly shivering as he took in the room though his prison. He reached up to touch the breathing apparatus on his face and furrowed his brows.

His gaze then landed on me standing right outside.

"Yo. Can you hear me?" I asked and he blankly stared at me, the partial haze fading to a stark clear one. "I'm going to assume you can. We're here to break you out. We may even bust the heads of the assholes who put you in here. That sound interesting to you?"

The man continued to stare at me with dark brown eyes for a long minute.

My grin widened greatly at his short but very clear nod.

……

…

"Uhh, Elizabeth-"

"Click the red button again." She said in exhaustion, still rubbing her forehead. "It also opens the glass."

…Okay.

That one was on me.

---

A/N: You ever start writing, the ideas are flowing and as time goes on, you keep writing until you feel like enough has happened where you can end the chapter in a "good" spot? Like what decides a good spot? Sometimes even I stump myself with what that means because I love writing to create a story not just for others but also for myself. I want to place my ideas on paper and see where I can bring the story so it's hard to find a place to stop where it feels like enough, even when a lot of others would probably be fine with me stopping earlier.

I don't know if I'm making sense or if I'm just rambling. If you get it you get it.

Anyway, Mutant Prison Break time! SITodd was bound to come across one eventually, especially as a traveling nomad of semi-heroic standards. Damn near every canon, fanfic, game and everything else in between involving the X-Men and Mutants ends with one of these kinds of events. And I will not lie.

I'm a fucking sucker for a good prison break. I hope I don't disappoint.

And always. I hope you enjoyed.

 

[Carlos99]

Thanks for the chapter!

 

[Mortal Sage]

These cliffhangers are some weird form of edging. I hate this kind of edging.

 

[Ignacio Antonio]

What a wonderful chapter, breaking mutants is like second nature for the X-Men and seeing Todd do that is absolutely great!!

Tall and muscular in the way an Olympic gymnast

Click to shrink...

Mnnhh actually olympic gymnast all most totally are really petite and short, so she would work better as Olympic athletes