Rogue smirked, tilting her head toward Blink. "Guess you'll be learnin' the fine art of collectin' shiny things, sugar."
Blink's grip on the crystalline key tightened. "I don't care how hard it is," she said quietly, determination flickering in her tone. "I'll find a way."
The Trader inclined his head once, the faint smile still lingering beneath his hood. "Good. But those items are not easy to come by. Although it may hurt, you are weak. Even if by some chance you managed to find them, you would not be able to keep them. This spatial pocket is tied to your soul now, which means no one can strip it away. But the treasures needed to expand it…" His voice grew quieter, cutting with certainty. "…those can be stolen, taken by anyone with sharper claws or stronger fists. And with your current strength, you could not safeguard them."
Blink flinched at the blunt words, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She hated how true they felt. A single key, a world in her hands — yet she knew she was fragile. If someone stronger learned she held space-type treasures, she wouldn't even have the chance to fight back.
Rogue narrowed her eyes, studying the Trader's expressionless mask. "You don't pull punches, do you?" she muttered.
He looked at her then, and though no face was visible, the weight in his gaze was undeniable. "Truth is not cruelty. It is preparation. A gift without the power to guard it is nothing more than bait for wolves."
Blink's throat tightened, but she lifted her chin stubbornly. "Then I'll just… get stronger. Strong enough to hold onto whatever I find."
The Trader's hood dipped in a slow nod. "That is the only correct answer, afterall power is the truth." Then, almost as if in afterthought, his tone shifted — smoother, edged with something sharper. "Of course, there is… another method."
Both women looked up at him instantly.
"You could simply wish for it," he said, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. "With a wish, the walls could stretch wider, the skies higher. What would take lifetimes of searching for rare treasures, or battles you could not win, could instead be made real in the span of a heartbeat."
Blink's eyes widened, a flicker of hope flashing across her face. "You mean… you could make it grow?"
Trader's smile deepened beneath the mask. "Indeed, I can. But not for free. After all…" his voice lowered, rich with certainty, "…I work on principle."
Rogue's lips parted, a dozen questions flashing through her mind, but she stopped herself, narrowing her gaze instead. She could feel the weight behind those words, the deliberate turn. This wasn't just about Blink's shiny new pocket world. This was about something else. About him.
She wet her lips, her voice low. "So that's what this is really about, ain't it? You didn't just come here to hand out freebies. You came here lookin' for somethin'."
The Trader inclined his head, neither confirming nor denying, but the silence between them was more telling than words.
Blink glanced at Rogue nervously, then back at the cloaked figure. "What… what kind of price would something like that even cost?"
Trader's tone remained calm, but it carried the steel edge of a man who never wasted words. "That depends. Wishes are never free. Every desire has weight, and that weight demands balance. The question is not whether it can be done…" His eyes glinted faintly in the twilight. "…but what you are willing to pay."
Rogue's lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head slowly, her voice cutting through the stillness. "Let's put the talk about stretchin' out this little world on hold." She turned fully toward him, her arms folding across her chest. "What I wanna know is why you came to us. Now we fully believe it — you can grant wishes, bend reality, all that. But nobody walks into someone else's room handin' out miracles without a reason. Six hundred million, a whole damn pocket dimension — that's just a snap of your fingers to you. But you still showed up here in person. You're not givin' any of this for free. So what's your motive?"
Blink shifted uneasily beside her, clutching the key tighter, her gaze flicking nervously between Rogue and the cloaked figure.
The Trader was silent for a moment, the violet glow of the realm's sky casting faint shadows over his hood. Then, at last, he spoke, voice even and deliberate. "Sharp. You're right, Anna Marie. I never move without purpose."
He stepped closer, his boots silent against the grass, and though his face was hidden, the weight of his presence pressed against both of them like a slow tide. "I came because I saw potential. Potential that even you do not yet understand."
Rogue raised an eyebrow, masking her unease with a smirk. "Potential, huh? That sounds an awful lot like you're butterin' us up before the hook."
The Trader let the faintest chuckle slip. "Think of it as honesty. I grant power, but I am also a trader. What I seek from you… is not gold, or favors, or even gratitude." His gaze settled on her with sharp intensity. "What I want...is your mutant abilities."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.
Rogue froze, her smirk vanishing, her fingers curling unconsciously against her palms. "My… abilities?" she echoed, her voice low, uncertain if she had heard him right.
Blink took half a step back, eyes widening as she glanced between them. "You mean… you can take powers?"
The Trader tilted his head slightly, the faint glint of his eyes visible beneath the hood. "Not take. At least not directly, unless you wish for it. I can copy it, if you allow."
Rogue's eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing as quick as lightning. "Copy it? You mean, you'd be walkin' around with my curse in your pocket like it's yours?"
The Trader's tone remained steady, patient. "Not yours. A copy, tethered to me by your consent. Your mutation would remain untouched, fully yours. But the reflection of it would belong to me, to shape and refine as I see fit. And through that copy, I could open doors you cannot imagine."
Blink stepped forward hesitantly, her voice small but sharp with curiosity. "And… you'd use it to do what? Transfer powers? Trade them?"
The Trader's gaze shifted to her for a brief moment before returning to Rogue. His reply was steady and unambiguous. "I will place your ability on trade, or wield it myself. That decision rests with me."
Rogue's lips twisted into a bitter smile, though her eyes never left the hooded figure. "You do know the price of me usin' this ability, right? Every time I touch somebody, I steal from them. Their memories, their powers, even their life if I hold on too long. I can't touch anyone without riskin' killin' them. That's the curse you're callin' valuable."
The Trader's smile was faint but certain as he answered, "It is because your mutant ability lacks a control feature. It activates the moment your skin makes contact, without asking your intent. It doesn't distinguish what to take, or how much — it simply consumes. That is what makes it so feared."
He paused, his gaze steady on her. "But I have a solution."
Rogue's brow furrowed, suspicion flashing in her eyes. "A solution? What, some fancy glove or inhibitor? I've heard that song before."
Trader shook his head....
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CHAPTER:- [107- ROUGE'S BORROWED POWER] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON