Jack Hou, the real one, sat on the plush couch in the penthouse of the God Tree, his posture a study in relaxed, predatory stillness. On the couch to his right, Natalie Beckman sat bolt upright, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Behind her, the clone known as J stood, a silent, unmoving guardian.
The briefing on the last four months was over. Jack leaned back, his fingers steepled, his golden eyes fixed on Natalie.
"So," he began, his voice quiet, devoid of its usual manic energy. "You're moving on your own decision. You brought the Brotherhood, the X-Men, and the Tiger Division into a treaty agreement."
"Yes, boss," Natalie said, her voice a little too high.
"Then," Jack continued, his tone unwavering, "you're controlling Frost International and take part of Hellfire Club for almost a year behind my back."
Natalie stammered, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple. "Y-yes, boss."
Jack looked her directly in the eyes. "What leverage did you use to bring them together?"
Natalie was sweating now, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. In all the time she had known him, through all the chaos and bloodshed, she had never seen him like this. This quiet, calculating stillness was more terrifying than any of his wild rages. This whole time, he hadn't laughed. He hadn't even chuckled.
"I used Krakoa," she confessed, her voice a hoarse whisper. "And you, boss."
Jack stood and walked toward the balcony, his pristine white hanfu fluttering in the wind that swept through the open doors. He stared out at the city, at the impossible, thriving sanctuary he had created.
"You've gathered a king with a god complex, a principal drowning in his own guilt, a queen of a corporate cult, and a government-sanctioned fox," he mused, his voice a low, cutting thing. "You think that's an alliance? That's a support group for people with too much power and not enough therapy. It's a sandcastle waiting for the tide, Natalie. A beautiful, fragile, and utterly doomed little sandcastle."
He turned, and for a moment, Natalie thought she was done for. But then, his expression softened.
"But it's good you're taking the initiative," he said, a note of genuine approval in his voice. "I guess it's also my fault for leaving you behind with the whole territory."
A wave of profound relief washed over Natalie. "Are you… are you going to stay?" she asked, hope creeping into her voice.
"Until the invasion happens, I will stay here," Jack said simply.
Natalie stood in shock. "Invasion?" she breathed, her mind racing. "Who? Russia?"
Jack just smiled, a slow, wicked, and terrifyingly familiar grin finally returning to his face. "Just call our associates. Call them here."
He then leaped off the balcony, a graceful, impossible arc against the morning sky.
…
Jack Hou walked through the sunlit streets of the Golden Peach, his white hanfu a stark, clean contrast to the vibrant life around him. He passed the butcher shop, its front open to the crisp air.
"Hello, Uncle," Jack greeted with a wave.
The butcher, a large man with a friendly, weathered face, waved back with the hand that was currently holding a massive meat cleaver.
Jack continued his stroll and turned into Mario's Pizzeria. The place was bustling, packed with a lively mix of tourists and locals all grabbing a meal. "Uncle Mario!" Jack called out cheerfully. "Did you add choco-pasta to the menu yet?"
Mario, his face dusted with flour, looked up from behind the counter. "Ayy, Jack!" he boomed, his voice full of warmth. "My mama would kill me from above if I did that!"
Jack laughed. "Alright, one take-away of fettuccine alfredo, then."
"Coming right up," Mario said with a smile.
Just then, the door swung open, and a clone of Jack, dressed in an identical hanfu, strolled in. "Oh, hey, boss," the clone said. "Having lunch, too?"
"You tell me," Jack retorted. "It's still morning."
The clone just grinned. "Meehhh, it's noon somewhere on this Earth. Kekekeke."
Several minutes later, Mario came out from the kitchen, handing Jack a steaming container of pasta. "Thanks, Uncle."
"Always a pleasure, Jack."
As he left, Jack began eating his pasta while walking, taking in the sights of his territory. He reached the border, the invisible line where the Golden Peach ended and the rest of New York began, and the difference was as stark as night and day. On his side, the streets were clean, the peach trees bloomed in defiance of the season, and people walked with a relaxed, easy confidence. On the other side, the city was its usual gray, chaotic self.
"Do they think my territory is Disneyland?" he muttered to himself.
Just then, a group of people tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me," one of them asked, holding up a phone. "You're one of the Jack clones, right? Can we take a picture?"
Jack just smiled. "Sure."
After the picture was taken, they thanked him and hurried away, chattering excitedly. Jack scratched his head. "Oh well."
He finished his pasta, left his territory, and continued his walk, taking in the stinky, familiar smells of New York City. He ended up at Columbus Park. After buying a hotdog from a street vendor, he found an empty spot on a bench and sat down. As he ate, he realized there was a high school kid sitting beside him, his shoulders slumped, sulking at the ground.
"First time skipping school, kid?" Jack asked conversationally.
The kid, who wore glasses and a backpack that looked far too heavy, looked up. His eyes went wide, and he stammered, "J-j-j-Jack Hou."
"Yeah," Jack said, taking a bite of his hotdog. "What, never seen a criminal eat peacefully before?"
The kid sat perfectly still, frozen in shock.
"Relax," Jack said. "I'm just here to take in New York's stinky smell. So, what are you doing here? Skipping school isn't fun if you just sit around doing nothing."
"I'm not skipping school," the kid mumbled.
"Oh," Jack said, his expression completely serious. "Then I'm not eating a hotdog." He then took another large bite.
The kid sighed. "I'm here until the others get back."
"Oh? Do tell," Jack said, a new glint of interest in his eyes. "I love new gossip."
"My high school just went on a trip," the kid explained. "I just need to wait so my uncle and aunt don't suspect a thing."
"Oh? Why not come with them?"
"I don't have the means," the kid said, his voice quiet. "And I can't ask Uncle Ben for more."
"Well, you can't just skip school if you're a nerd."
The kid's head snapped up. "Nerd? What? I just wear glasses."
"Sure," Jack said with a grin. "What is your name?"
The kid hesitated. "Peter. Peter Parker."
Jack paused. His smile didn't falter, but a look of profound, ancient understanding flickered in his golden eyes. "Well, nice to meet you, little nerd. So, let's start where we are now. Do you know this park used to be called Mulberry Bend? And in this bend is when a riot happened, all because of some straw hats."
Peter raised his brow. "That's not true."
"It's true, look it up when you're back," Jack said cheerfully. "Anyway, at that time, kids around your age went around New York taking people's straw hats and stomping on them. It was a classic prank, really. Kekekeke."
…
Night engulfed New York. The crowds that had gathered to snap photos of Manhattanhenge had long since passed, their fleeting awe gone from the road. High in the sky, a procession of clouds flew in perfect formation, their passage unnoticed by the technology and the people below.
On the penthouse balcony of the God Tree, Jack Hou tied his long hair back, a golden dragon hairpin locking the messy bun in place. His golden headband, a fragment of his very soul, glimmered in the ambient light of the city. He wore a black and gold hanfu, its silk robes whispering as he moved. He took a long, slow drink from his gourd.
Then, they arrived. Four Zephyr clouds, piloted by four identical clones, landed on the balcony in perfect, silent synchronization.
From the first cloud, Logan stepped out, dragging a provided chair before carefully wheeling Professor Xavier in. He remained standing behind him, a silent, unmoving bodyguard.
From the second, Ami Han and Luna Snow disembarked. Magneto and Mystique arrived on the third. And lastly, Emma Frost and Callisto on the fourth.
Jack sat still, watching from his seat at the head of a large, circular table, and let them come in one by one. Magneto sat opposite him, and Mystique stood behind his chair. Then, with a flicker of displaced air, she unexpectedly transformed herself into a perfect, scowling copy of Logan.
Jack let out a loud, delighted cackle.
Ami Han followed suit and sat beside Xavier. Luna Snow, in contrast to the two Logans, seemed far less like a bodyguard, her posture relaxed and curious. Then, Emma Frost took her seat beside Magneto, with Callisto standing behind her, a simple, knowing smile on her face.
The leaders of mutantkind were assembled.
Jack placed his gourd on the table with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the tense silence. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled fingers, and surveyed the room.
"Alright, welcome, welcome, to the first annual 'Let's Try Not to Start a Race War' conference," he began, his voice a cheerful, unhinged thing that was completely at odds with the gravity of the room. "We've got Team 'Peace, Love, and Mind-Wipes' on my left. Team 'Humans are Mostly Flammable Garbage' on my right. Team 'I'm Richer and Hotter Than All of You' right next to them. And Team 'My Government Sanctioned Me So I'm Morally Superior' sitting politely. It's like a dysfunctional family reunion, but with more potential for global genocide. I love it. Now, who wants to talk about Krakoa?"
Suddenly, the metal around the penthouse began to tremble. The golden dragon hairpin in Jack's hair vibrated with a low hum. The steel beams within the walls groaned. Natalie, standing behind Jack, grew nervous, her eyes darting toward the figure sitting opposite them. Magneto.
Jack didn't move. He just watched the master of magnetism, a slow grin spreading across his face. Then, he started to laugh. A low chuckle at first, which grew into his signature, unhinged cackle.
"Kekeke… KEKEKEKEKE!"
Then, like a light switch, his laughter stopped. His expression turned cold. He leaned forward, a king on a throne of chaos, and his voice was a low, commanding growl.
"You better behave, fridge magnet."
The lights in the penthouse dimmed. The air grew heavy, thick with a pressure that had nothing to do with magnetism. A vast, primordial silhouette began to grow behind Jack's chair, a shadowy form so immense it seemed to press against the very ceiling of the sky, its presence promising to crush them with the ease of a thumb squashing an ant.
The mutant leaders froze, their own immense power feeling small and insignificant in the face of this absolute, cosmic authority.
Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the presence vanished. The lights returned to normal. Jack laughed, a cheerful, dismissive sound that shattered the suffocating tension. "Kekekeke, relax, will you? We are all together under the same tree."
Natalie, a bit confused by the leaders' stark reactions, just blinked.
"Nat," Jack said, not taking his eyes off the stunned mutants. "Be a dear and share our projection, will ya?"
Natalie handed each of the four leaders a data file and placed a sleek, holographic projector, a gift from Hank McCoy, in the middle of the table.
"It's good, right?" Jack said, his tone conversational again. "See what we can have when we share what we have with each other?" He let them read the files, taking a long, slow drink from his gourd as he waited.
Magneto was the first to speak, his voice a low, suspicious rumble. "You're delaying it by a year."
Ami Han looked up from her file. "Isn't it supposed to start in February?"
"Yeah, I would do that if I were you," Jack confirmed with a shrug. "The world will turn upside down this year, and building any project at this time of year wouldn't be wise."
Emma Frost's diamond-sharp gaze fixed on him. "Sage, is there a possibility we can know what this world-turning event is?"
"Nope," Jack said, popping the 'p' with a final, cheerful finality.
Xavier's brow furrowed. "Jack… do you not trust us?"
Jack sighed, a sound of profound, theatrical patience. "It's not about trust. My existence itself is a fluke of the universe, and I've got three things. First off, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Second off, I don't know what changes with me here. Thirdly…" He paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "…well, there is no thirdly, actually. I just wanted to say I had three points. Kekekeke."
Magneto slammed a hand on the table. "This is not a game! You speak of a global catastrophe and expect us to simply wait, to trust the word of a madman?"
"I'm not a madman," Jack countered cheerfully. "I'm a consultant. And my consultation fee is you shutting up and doing what I say. This isn't a democracy; it's a benevolent dictatorship, and I'm the benevolent dictator. My first decree is that you all need to chill."
"This 'event'," Emma Frost purred, leaning forward, "will undoubtedly create a power vacuum. An opportunity. Information is a commodity, Sage. One the Hellfire Club is willing to pay dearly for."
Jack winked at her. "Sorry, Ice Queen, but my spoilers aren't for sale. You'll just have to watch the show with the rest of the mortals."
"Then give us a way to prepare," Ami Han insisted, her tone sharp and pragmatic. "What is the nature of the threat? Extraterrestrial? Dimensional? We need to know what we're up against."
Jack just smiled, a frustratingly serene expression on his face. He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. "Let's just say," he said, his golden eyes twinkling, "that it's a family reunion. And you're all about to meet that one racist uncle."
**A/N**
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