——
Siberia, Russia
The sun hung low in the sky, a blood-orange orb shrouded by a thick, ominous haze that blanketed Yakutia's expansive landscape.
The forest's once vibrant greens and whites had muted into lifeless shades, as fiery waves of flames danced voraciously through the underbrush, devouring everything in their relentless path.
The crackling of dry branches echoed loudly, composing a chaotic symphony of destruction. At the same time, the oppressive heat radiated outward, warping the air and conjuring an eerie, shimmering mirage of the devastation. Echoing explosions of large falling trees striking the ground filled the dying forest as the waves of flames quickly expanded and consumed the forest.
Pillars of smoke surged into the atmosphere, dark and foreboding, blotting out the fading light and casting a ghostly twilight over the region. The acrid scent of charred wood mingled with the burnt earth. Ancient trees, standing sentinel for centuries, succumbed to the inferno, their once-majestic trunks turned to charred husks, branches collapsing like the dreams they once bore.
Wildlife, once thriving in the lush undergrowth, fled in a frenzied panic, their desperate movements heightening the chaos of the scene. Birds erupted into the air, their silhouettes stark against the fiery glow, while smaller creatures scurried through the thick, acrid smoke in their frantic search for refuge.
In mere hours, the forest—once a vibrant symphony of life—had devolved into a hellish orange landscape of flames and ash, consumed by an unrelenting roar of fire that drowned out the sounds of the natural world.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting an orange hue across the burning sky, the Aerial Forest Protection Service sprang into action around the perimeter of the raging fire.
The team, a dedicated mix of seasoned firefighters and enthusiastic volunteers, moved with an urgency that spoke to their commitment to safeguarding the forest's delicate ecosystem. They worked tirelessly to eliminate any potential fuel along the fire's threatening path, digging deep trenches designed to slow its relentless advance.
"Get those trenches dug! Move it!" Captain Gedeon Lebedev shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of the flames and crackling embers. With a commanding presence, he directed his team, pointing out where they needed to break ground. His breath mingled with the thick smoke in the air as he urged his crew on. "Sergei," he called into his radio, his tone both firm and anxious, "how are the fire lines coming along?"
"We're putting them down as fast as we can, Captain! But that fire is moving faster than we anticipated!" Sergei's voice crackled through the radio, distant but earnest, as he reported from his post a daunting 15 kilometers away.
"Gah! Hurry, my friend! We have to move faster!" Gedeon exclaimed, frustration and concern etched on his face. He dropped the radio and grabbed a shovel, its handle slick with sweat and dirt. He plunged it into the soil with grit and decisiveness, flinging clumps of earth behind him as he dug.
In a nearby small town, fear was etched on the faces of the residents as numerous families evacuated their homes upon spotting the burning orange glow of a forest fire in the distance. The Aerial Forest Protection Service was no match for the incoming blaze, and it wouldn't be long before the flames reached their town.
Panic swept through the streets like the wind as families hurried to gather their belongings.
Parents quickly packed essentials into their cars while children clutched their favorite toys, unaware of the seriousness of the situation. Neighbors exchanged worried glances as they loaded their vehicles, the scent of smoke growing closer and mingling with the sweet aroma of evening meals left uneaten.
"Quickly, Agrafina! Get the children into the car!" a worried father shouted, his voice tense as he frantically shoved several heavy suitcases into the battered old minivan that had seen better days.
"Lakov? Lakov! Where are you?" A young girl's voice pierced through the din, rising in panic as she scoured the dim corners of their cozy home, her heart racing. She threw open cupboard doors and peeked under the couch, desperately searching for her beloved cat.
Her parents' urgent shouts echoed from downstairs, demanding she leave the house at once. "No! I won't leave Lakov!" she cried out, tears welling in her eyes, torn between the safety of her family and the yearning to save her feline friend.
Local authorities moved through the town, guiding residents toward the evacuation routes with bright flashlights, their determination visible amidst the anxiety. Sirens blared, creating a discordant symphony that urged everyone to leave.
A deafening sonic boom shattered the stillness, sending ripples through the darkened clouds looming overhead. The sound pierced the air, distracting the desperate evacuees as they hurriedly fled the chaos of their town.
"What is that?" an elderly woman exclaimed, squinting up at the tumultuous sky, her brow furrowed in confusion as her terrible eyesight failed to see what flew past. "Is it a bird? A plane?"
"No... that's Atomic!" shouted a young boy clad in a vibrant red shirt emblazoned with an atom graphic. His eyes sparkled with exhilaration as he pointed toward the dazzling red and white blur streaking through the smoke-filled heavens, heading straight into the raging inferno. "Everything is going to be okay!"
Deep within the heart of the raging forest, a frantic and terrified deer raced through a hellscape of flames and crashing trees, desperately seeking a way out. Each breath it took felt like inhaling fire, its lungs stinging and raw as acrid smoke billowed around, shrouding the dying woodland in a choking haze. The once vibrant trees now stood like dark silhouettes against a nightmarish orange glow backdrop, their charred remnants crackling under the relentless heat.
The deer spotted a fallen, blackened tree lying across its path in its frantic bid to escape the inferno. It gathered its strength and made a desperate leap but misjudged the distance, its hooves skimming over the ground before it tumbled, sprawling helplessly in the dirt. A pained cry escaped its throat as it struggled to rise, its heart pounding with fear. Just then, it heard a deafening crack as another tree began to collapse, an ominous giant crashing down toward it.
Time seemed to slow as the deer froze, its wide, terrified eyes locked on the dark mass plummeting from above.
Then, something extraordinary happened—the air shimmered around the descending tree, engulfing it in a brilliant crimson light that outshone the surrounding flames. The deer blinked in bewilderment as the once-mighty trunk disintegrated into a cascade of iridescent bubbles, each glinting like a tiny jewel in the smoky air, leaving it completely unharmed.
In an instant, instinct took over. The deer scrambled to its feet and sprinted forward with renewed urgency, heart pounding and legs pumping, as it fled from the fiery chaos behind.
Watching from a distance, Atomic watched the deer run off with a slight nod.
"Good. It didn't get hurt," Atomic said before looking over to the flames. "Now then, you've gone on long enough."
Soaring high above the raging inferno, he activated his Kaio-Ken form, a transformation that enveloped him in a dazzling display of radiant crimson and brilliant white hues. With a resolute expression etched on his face, Atomic crossed his arms over his chest, gathering energy in a powerful charge that made his entire being shimmer with an intense glow.
With a fierce, resonating yell that echoed through the air, Atomic unleashed the energy he had meticulously built up. A massive sphere of vibrant crimson burst forth from his outstretched hands, radiating heat and intensity as it surged toward the chaotic flames below.
As the colossal wave of crimson energy cascaded over the once-raging forest fire, the flames began to sputter and die, replaced by a dazzling transformation—a vibrant revival of nature. The scorched earth was soon adorned with an explosion of colorful bushes, towering trees, and lush undergrowth, as if the essence of life itself had returned in a spectacular flourish.
In mere moments, the devastation of the inferno was transformed into a breathtaking spectacle, revealing an awe-inspiring forest brimming with vibrant life and beauty.
The once intense heat of the flames gave way to a cool, refreshing breeze, carrying with it the invigorating scents of blossoming flora that painted the landscape in hues of green and gold. As the dust settled, the joyful chorus of chirping birds and the rustle of small creatures reemerged, a powerful testament to the miraculous restoration that Atomic had orchestrated.
The weary yet vigilant firefighters stood motionless, their eyes wide with disbelief as they witnessed the blazing inferno dissipate into nothingness. Their shovels and tools, which just moments before felt like extensions of their resolve, now hung limply at their sides, rendered impotent in the face of such a miraculous event.
The townspeople gathered in small clusters, their faces aglow with relief and wonder as they watched what many would surely deem a divine intervention. The raging fire that had threatened their homes was now completely extinguished, leaving only a serene and lush green forest in its place, a sanctuary where life could once again flourish.
Soaring above the revitalized landscape, Atomic released his Kaio-Ken form as he surveyed the thriving forest below.
Satisfied that the imminent danger had passed, he descended gracefully to the ground, making his way toward the brave firefighters. He approached them with genuine concern, eager to check on the well-being of these courageous men and women who had risked everything to protect their community, ensuring their heroic efforts were not to be disregarded despite his presence.
"Good work, everyone," Atomic spoke in Russian. "Is anyone hurt?"
••o••o••o••
Bayville, New York
The sharp sounds of cracking wood echoed throughout the expansive Japanese-style dojo, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the intense sparring session taking place within its walls.
With bō staffs firmly gripped in their hands, Wyatt and Scott moved with an impressive fluidity, their bodies a blur of motion as they danced around each other. Each strike and parry was executed with precision and purpose, the air crackling with the energy of their duel.
Wyatt, his Mystic Eyes shimmering with an otherworldly light, possessed a unique ability that allowed him to glimpse a few seconds into Scott's future actions. This seemingly unfair advantage weighed heavily on him, yet he couldn't switch it off. Instead, he channeled his focus into deflecting and sidestepping Scott's increasingly relentless assaults, his heart pounding with the thrill of the challenge.
"Geh! Come on!" Scott growled, frustration lacing his voice as he spun around, launching an overhead strike with ferocity. Wyatt anticipated the move, gracefully dancing to the side and evading the descending staff by a hair's breadth, the rush of air brushing against his cheek.
Seizing the opportunity, Wyatt retaliated with a precise thrust of his bō staff into Scott's midsection.
The impact was swift and forceful, causing Scott to gasp and crumple to his knees. Sweat glistened on his skin, trickling down in rivulets and pooling on the tatami mats beneath him, a testament to the intensity of their training.
"Okay… I'm done," Scott muttered and looked up to see Wyatt holding out a hand with a slight grin.
"Good fight," Wyatt said.
"Didn't feel like it," Scott shook his head and accepted Wyatt's help.
As they pushed open the wooden doors of the dojo, Wyatt and Scott stepped into the crisp air, a refreshing contrast to the warm, humid atmosphere inside.
They meandered over to a weathered wooden bench nestled beneath a sprawling oak tree, its golden leaves fluttering gently in the breeze. Wyatt rifled through a cooler and pulled out a water bottle. He handed it to Scott, who accepted it with a grateful nod, the small gesture clearly signifying their friendship and camaraderie.
Settling into the bench, they sank into a moment of quiet reflection, their eyes drawn to the bustling scene in front of them. Workers in hard hats busily constructed the venue for next week's highly anticipated Winter Ball, hammering and drilling as colorful banners were unfurled against the backdrop of the pale blue sky. The rhythmic sound of construction mingled with the distant laughter of students, creating a vibrant atmosphere filled with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming event.
"Those magic eyes of yours make fighting you impossible," Scott said after emptying his bottle. "You're just cheating. Even Logan struggles to land a hit on you."
"Yeah, well, if I could turn them off for our spars, I would," Wyatt smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "Still, even with my eyes, Logan does eventually manage to kick my ass in the end. I've only come close to beating him a few times."
"Still, you've come closer than I ever have," Scott remarked with a warm smile as he observed one of the construction workers, a slender man, struggling to carry a heavy wooden beam. In a remarkable transformation, the worker's physique began to swell, muscles bulging as he effortlessly hoisted the beam once more. With renewed strength, he lifted not just one but seven additional beams, prompting cheers and applause from his fellow workers nearby.
Scott felt a swell of gratitude as he witnessed this scene, a manifestation of how far their society had evolved in such a short amount of time. The sight of mutants collaborating seamlessly with humans, constructively using their unique abilities, filled him with pride and hope.
While the use of mutant powers has been strictly regulated—limited to individuals with specialized licenses or graduates of Xavier's School for Gifted Individuals—recent legislation has brought about a significant change. Thanks to an agreement between Charles Xavier and the Supreme Court, mutants are now permitted to use their abilities in public, provided they can demonstrate mastery over their powers through a series of tests. This shift reflects the progress made toward a world where mutants and non-mutants can coexist freely.
Yet, amidst these advancements, Scott remained acutely aware of the haunting specter of prejudice that still lingered. Hate groups continued to target mutants across the nation, igniting fear and violence. In response to these threats, Scott and the X-Men routinely sprang into action, mobilizing to rescue those in distress and escorting them to the sanctuary of the school.
Over the months, the institution had undergone a remarkable transformation. No longer merely a grand mansion tucked away in the hills, it was now evolving into a sprawling university campus, expanding in size and scope due to generous funding and support from large donors and organizations that want to support their cause.
The evolution of the school mirrored the hopeful vision Scott harbored deep within him—that one day, humans and mutants would walk side by side in harmony, unburdened by the constraints of stringent laws and regulations.
Scott turned to the one who helped make all this possible with an appreciative smile.
Gone were the days when Scott viewed Wyatt suspiciously, seeing him as an outsider who didn't fit in. Instead, a newfound appreciation blossomed within him; he now recognized Wyatt as a true friend and a steadfast ally to his people. This shift in perspective was not just a fleeting thought—Scott understood that Wyatt had become an integral part of their community, someone who selflessly contributed to the lives of mutants and the broader world.
Just an hour before their usual weekly sparring session, Wyatt had heroically intervened to stop what could have escalated into a catastrophic forest fire in another country. Fierce and relentless flames threatened to engulf the surrounding terrain, yet Wyatt, acting as Atomic, acted decisively, showcasing his remarkable abilities and quick thinking.
Scott felt a deep sense of astonishment as he watched Wyatt during those tense moments. He was both bewildered and inspired by Wyatt's remarkable courage and dedication. Scott couldn't help but reflect on how he had come to have someone like Wyatt as a friend, despite their rough history—a person willing to risk everything for the greater good.
"So… I heard that Kitty asked you to go to the ball with her," Scott said.
"She did."
"And you agreed to go with her?"
"…I did," Wyatt said, turning to Scott with a questioning look. "Where are you going with this, Scott?"
Although Scott's primary role was to serve as the leader of the X-Men, he was equally devoted to supporting his teammates in every aspect of their lives. He understood that leadership extended beyond strategizing during missions; it also meant being attentive to his friends' physical health and emotional well-being.
Whether it was offering a listening ear after a tough battle or ensuring they had the resources to recover from injuries, Scott's commitment to his team was unwavering. He often took the time to check in, fostering an environment where trust and camaraderie thrived, reinforcing the idea that they were not just a team, but a family. A family that looked after one another.
"She likes you, Wyatt. She's been walking on clouds ever since she asked you to go with her to the Winter Ball," Scott said. "I just… don't want her to get hurt."
"I would never hurt her," Wyatt replied, standing up, clearly insulted. "Why would you think that?"
"I know you would never do it intentionally, Wyatt. It's just that if you don't feel the same way about her, I don't want you to lead Kitty on." Scott also stood up and turned to Wyatt with a calm expression. "Do you understand?"
Wyatt frowned and looked away, but ultimately nodded. "Yeah… I understand. I would never dream of leading her on. But I guess… I'm not really sure how I feel about her. I care about her deeply. Kitty's always been there for me and had my back. But I'm not sure if I… love her."
"It doesn't have to be love right away, Wyatt. Relationships don't always start with love. They can begin with mutual attraction, and things might blossom from there," Scott said, drawing from his admittedly complex relationship with his girlfriend, Jean. "Just give it a chance."
Wyatt sighed, running a hand through his hair as he nodded in agreement with Scott. He was already well-versed in everything his friend was saying—having navigated the tumultuous waters of a few different relationships during high school and college in his other life. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that those past connections had been superficial at best, flaring up with excitement only to fizzle out just as quickly.
The echoes of those experiences, coupled with the immense weight of his current responsibilities as Atomic, had made the idea of stepping into a new relationship seem like an uncharted territory. In his new life, where the stakes felt far higher, the notion of romance had barely crossed his mind.
Despite the heavy mantle of maturity that fate had unexpectedly placed upon him, Wyatt remained, at heart, a young man navigating the complex landscape of his teenage years. It would be disingenuous to claim that his gaze didn't linger on the girls who sparked his interest; he was all too aware of the fluttering excitement that their presence conjured within him.
He often found himself enchanted by the laughter of his female friends, their joy resonating like music—a sweet, melodic harmony that deeply touched him. Their passion for life, combined with the effortless grace and striking beauty with which they navigated the world, captivated him. The idea of pursuing a romantic relationship was undeniably tempting, yet the thought of opening his heart and becoming emotionally vulnerable felt like a precarious leap into the unknown. He hesitated, held back by the weight of responsibility inherent in his role as Atomic and the people around the world who relied on him.
"Yeah… you're right," Wyatt said, running a hand through his tousled hair, the gesture betraying his inner turmoil. "I guess I have to stop overthinking it and just give this a chance."
With a reluctant resolve, the two settled back into their seats, their eyes drifting toward the school's construction site. The sounds of hammering and the distant chatter of students melded into the background, leaving them in a contemplative silence.
"…wanna box?"
"Sure."