Chapter 91: Missile Reversal, Carnage
The seawater was boiling.
Shaw stood on the wreckage of the yacht, his arms spread wide, the golden light around him growing stronger—all the energy from that Nuclear Submarine was being sucked into his body at this moment, transforming into a blinding ball of light.
But the Magnetic Field around him began to vibrate violently.
Charles's voice exploded in the Mental Link: "Erik, don't be impulsive! He's about to overload—"
"I've waited eighteen years," Erik interrupted him. "It must end today."
Shaw laughed. He raised his hand, and a golden energy wave erupted, sweeping toward Erik.
Erik didn't dodge.
He clawed the air with both hands, and the sea surface suddenly exploded.
Countless metal fragments rose from the seabed—shipwreck remains, shell casings, torpedo fragments, and even the steel plates of that sunken submarine were all dragged out of the deep sea by him.
They converged into a metal torrent, crashing head-on into Shaw's energy wave.
"Boom!"
The Impact kicked up a ten-meter-high giant wave, sweeping in all directions.
Rorschach pressed Raven firmly against a reef as seawater crashed down over their heads.
"Shaw isn't going to hold out much longer!" He squinted at the battlefield.
[Detected target Energy Absorption overload threshold: approximately 37%]
A system prompt popped up just in time.
The golden light around Shaw began to flicker unsteadily, and his skin took on an abnormal red glow.
He glanced down at his hands, his brow furrowing—he had absorbed too much, and it was becoming hard to suppress.
He kicked off the ground and turned to run.
"Trying to run?" Erik made a grasping motion with both hands.
The wreckage of the sunken submarine flew directly out of the sea; the two-thousand-ton steel behemoth was like a toy as it smashed toward Shaw.
Shaw turned and pushed out a golden energy wave—
The submarine exploded into two pieces mid-air.
The moment it exploded, countless metal fragments rained down like a downpour.
Shaw couldn't dodge in time; a fragment grazed his cheek, and a drop of blood seeped out.
Rorschach's eyes lit up.
But he didn't move.
Can't rush.
Wait a little longer.
Shaw landed on a piece of wreckage, panting heavily.
He raised his hand to touch the blood on his face, looked down at it, and suddenly laughed.
He raised his hand, preparing to give Shaw the final blow—
Just then, a roar came from the distance.
The gunfire of the US-Soviet Fleet.
Hundreds of naval guns fired simultaneously, and shells fell like rain on the sea area where the two sides were fighting.
Water columns exploded on the sea surface, with several rounds landing directly in the area between the X-Men and Hellfire.
Shaw looked up, his smile deepening: "They're here."
The "they" he spoke of were humans.
In the next second, he spread his arms wide and released all the energy within him that was about to explode—
It wasn't an attack; it was a forced activation!
Those missiles standing on the decks, those deadly weapons loaded with Nuclear Warheads, received the ignition signal at the same moment."
"No!" Charles's voice exploded in the Mental Link.
But it was already too late.
The first missile ignited and took to the sky.
Then the second, the third, the fourth—
In just three seconds, over a dozen missiles trailing long tails of flame soared from the decks of the US-Soviet Fleet.
Rorschach looked up at the missiles, his pupils shrinking slightly.
Holy shit.
This has gone too far.
Charles's voice rang out again, this time trembling: "Everyone, evacuate this sea area! Now!"
Sea Witch Xien dragged the injured Alex back.
Angel Salvador spread her wings, picked up Tom, and flew.
Rorschach grabbed Raven and turned to run.
But after a few steps, he stopped.
He glanced back.
Erik was still standing where he was.
He hovered in mid-air, watching the soaring missiles; the expression on his face wasn't fear or despair, but a near-manic calm.
Then he raised both hands.
At that moment, the Magnetic Field of the entire sea area was trembling.
Erik Lehnsherr, the man who had been burning with anger and hatred for eighteen years, unleashed his full potential at this moment.
At that moment, the Magnetic Field of the entire sea area was violently twisting and humming! Erik Lehnsherr... unleashed his full potential.
Visibly magnetic ripples spread frantically from him as the center.
The missiles whistling into the sky were like being gripped tightly by an invisible giant hand, suddenly stalling in mid-air!
The metal casings let out an ear-piercing screech under the strain.
Then, under Erik's full control—his arm muscles bulging and veins popping on his forehead—they began to laboriously, bit by bit, turn around..."
Then, they began to turn.
Not toward the ground, not toward the sea, but toward the sky—toward that targetless void.
One, two, three—
Over a dozen missiles, under Erik's control, forcefully changed their Flight paths and flew toward the outer Atmosphere.
"Holy shit..." Rorschach muttered to himself.
He knew Magneto was powerful, but he didn't know he was this powerful.
The missiles disappeared into the clouds, leaving trails of white wake on the sea surface.
A few seconds later, a muffled thunderous explosion came from the distance—they had exploded in the Stratosphere.
Shaw stood above the fleet, watching this scene, and the smile on his face finally vanished.
He stared at Erik, his gaze complex.
"Interesting," he said softly. "More interesting than I imagined."
Then he turned and flew into the distance.
Red Devil Azazel appeared out of thin air and grabbed him, and the two of them instantly disappeared over the horizon.
Hellfire had retreated.
Erik hovered in mid-air, his hands trembling slightly.
That last move had drained him of all his strength.
In the distance, cheers came from a warship—it was the U.S. soldiers, cheering for their "victory."
They didn't know who had saved them.
They only knew that the missiles hadn't exploded on their own heads.
On the deck of the distant warship, the soldiers who witnessed the missiles being forcefully "thrown" into the sky had their initial cheers freeze on their faces.
They looked at Erik, who was hovering in mid-air and controlling the metal torrent to reverse the destructive weapons, and their gaze gradually turned from gratitude to deep fear.
"Is... is that still human?" an old soldier nearby muttered to himself, his voice trembling. "He... he's even more terrifying than Shaw!"
Rorschach keenly captured the change in the fleet soldiers' eyes; it was no longer the trust between allies, but an instinctive fear in the face of an unknown powerful force.
His brow furrowed, and in the next second, he noticed that the muzzles of the guns on those warships were turning with a heart-pounding slowness and determination...
"Charles!" he shouted. "Look!"
Charles followed his gaze, and his face instantly turned pale.
In the next second, the gunfire rang out.
Hundreds of naval guns fired simultaneously, shells raining down on them like a storm.
There was no warning, no negotiation, no shouting to "lay down your weapons."
Only shells.
Dense clusters of shells.
Erik turned around and looked at those warships, at those gun muzzles, and at those human soldiers who had once fought alongside them; the calm on his face was finally shattered, replaced by cold killing intent.
He raised his hand.
Those warships began to Shapeshifting.
Gun barrels twisted, decks tore, and rivets flew off—the entire warship was like a toy squeezed by a giant hand, letting out a piercing metal groan.
"Stop!" Charles shouted.
He kicked off and rushed toward Erik across the wreckage.
But Erik didn't stop.
A warship broke into two and sank to the bottom of the sea.
The soldiers on the ship, those who were just cheering, fell into the sea like dumplings, screaming for mercy.
Erik's hands were still waving coldly, as if conducting a symphony of destruction; the second giant steel ship followed with a tooth-aching groan, its keel beginning to twist and snap...
Chapter 92: Prologue to Destruction
Charles rushed in front of him and grabbed his wrist. "Erik! Enough!"
Erik looked down at him, his gaze as cold as winter seawater. "They started it, Charles."
"That doesn't mean—"
"Eighteen years ago, they killed my mother." Erikinterrupted him. "Today, they want to kill us all. You tell me, why shouldn't I?"
Charles opened his mouth but found no words.
Erik shook off his hand and continued the Carnage.
Just then, a gunshot rang out.
Rorschach snapped his head around.
Moira stood on a piece of wreckage, her hands trembling violently as she gripped a gun she had picked up from a fallen soldier.
Twisted fear and boundless despair were etched across her face—the scene before her had completely shattered her last shred of illusion regarding their Mutant 'allies'.
Watching Erik dismember the troop-filled warships like crushing toys and hearing the faint, shrill screams carried by the sea breeze, her mind was overwhelmed by pure, instinctive terror: 'Monster... this monster must be stopped!' This thought occupied her entire consciousness like a virus.
She didn't even aim; she just instinctively and desperately pulled the trigger at the dark figure hovering in the center of the storm of destruction...
She wasn't aiming at Shaw.
It was Erik.
Her face was filled with fear, despair, and a total breakdown—seeing Erik slaughtering human soldiers, seeing those living people crushed like ants, her mind went blank, leaving only one thought: he must be stopped.
So she fired.
The bullet flew toward Erik.
Erik instinctively raised his hand.
The Magnetic Field instantly deflected the bullet's trajectory.
The bullet grazed his ear and zipped backward.
Charles stood where he was.
The bullet hit his spine dead center.
With a dull 'thud'...
Charles's body suddenly stiffened, his pupils dilating to their limit. An expression of disbelief froze on his face before he collapsed completely like a puppet with its strings cut.
Erik's eyes widened, the color draining from his face instantly.
"Charles!"
He lunged forward, catching the falling Charles.
Charles lay in his arms, his face as pale as paper.
He looked down at his legs, trying in vain to move them, but felt only a cold, heavy numbness. He looked up at Erikagain, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It seems..." he whispered, "I'll be in a wheelchair from now on."
Moira stood in the distance, the gun in her hand falling into the sea.
She looked at her own hands, then at Charles lying in a pool of blood, her entire being seemingly hollowed out.
"I... I didn't..." She tried to say something, but her voice trembled uncontrollably. "I didn't mean to hit Charles... I just wanted to stop you..."
Erik looked up, staring at her.
There was no anger in that gaze, no hatred, only a cold emptiness.
Moira took a step back, nearly falling into the sea.
In the distance, the artillery fire continued.
But at this moment, the sound of the cannons seemed to have been put on pause.
Banshee held Alex, Angel protected Tom, and Ravengripped Rorschach's arm tightly—everyone's eyes were fixed on that scene.
Erik held Charles, like a frozen statue filled with endless grief.
Moira stood dazed and despondent, unable to believe the disaster she had personally caused.
Only the sound of the waves continued to lap against the wreckage, coldly washing away the bloodstains, as if announcing the total end of an era—Charles Xavier, the young leader who was once full of ideals and believed in the coexistence of humans and Mutants, lay in a pool of blood.
The Charles who could walk, along with that naive conviction, sank forever into the depths of these cold waters of 1962.
Chapter 93: The Bullet of Fate
The plane flew above the clouds.
The cabin was so quiet that one could hear the sound of breathing.
Charles lay on a stretcher, and Hank knelt beside him, his hands trembling as he tended to the wound. The bleeding had stopped, but that leg—from the spine down, there was no sensation at all.
"How is it?" Charles asked.
Hank didn't speak.
Charles smiled, a very light smile. "Then it's no good."
Hank looked up at him, his eyes red. "Charles, I—"
"It's fine," Charles interrupted him. "As long as I'm alive."
Erik stood by the cabin door, his back to everyone.
He watched the churning clouds outside the door, his thoughts unknown.
Moira huddled in the corner, her hands clutching her knees, her body still shaking. Her face was covered in tear stains, her eyes red and swollen, and she couldn't say a single word.
Raven sat next to Rorschach and asked in a low voice, "What will happen to her?"
Rorschach glanced at Moira and shook his head. "I don't know."
"Will she be punished?"
"There's no need," Rorschach said softly. "She has already punished herself."
Moira suddenly raised her head and looked at Charles on the stretcher.
She stood up, staggered over, and knelt before Charles.
"Charles... I'm sorry..." Her voice was hoarse. "I really... I didn't mean to... I just... I saw him kill so many people... I was afraid..."
Charles looked at her, his eyes as calm as a pool of stagnant water.
"I know," he said.
Moira was stunned.
Charles reached out and gently patted the back of her hand. "It wasn't intentional. You just wanted to stop him."
Moira's tears welled up again.
Erik finally turned around.
He looked at Moira for a long time.
Then he spoke, his voice very flat. "When you fired, you were aiming at me."
Moira nodded, not daring to look at him.
Erik continued, "The bullet's deflection was my doing."
Moira looked up.
Erik's expression was as cold as iron, his voice low but clearly piercing through the silence of the cabin as he added, "The trajectory of that bullet's deflection was controlled by me."
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the shocked crowd before finally landing on Charles's pale face. "So, the shot that hit you was fired by me."
Everyone in the cabin was stunned.
Charles stared at Erik, his brow furrowed slightly. "Erik—"
"It's the truth," Erik interrupted him. "If I hadn't used the Magnetic Field to deflect the bullet, it wouldn't have hit you at all."
Moira opened her mouth, not knowing what to say.
Erik walked to the side of the stretcher and crouched down.
He looked at Charles, his eyes as complex as a tangled mess.
"Do you hate me?" he asked.
Charles was silent for a few seconds, then he smiled, a very light smile. "I don't."
"Why?"
"Because I know you didn't want this either."
Erik stared at him, his lips moving, but in the end, nothing came out.
Charles continued, "You know, Erik, I once thought we could coexist in peace. Humans and Mutants, living together, fighting together, protecting this World together."
He forced a smile so bitter it was almost broken, his voice so soft it was nearly swallowed by the engine noise. "Erik... just now, the moment my body lost sensation, I truly understood your despair and anger. My ideal... that dream of peaceful coexistence..."
He took a deep breath, as if using up all his strength. "...was completely shattered by that bullet. You were right, this path doesn't work... the road to survival may only be the one you pointed out."
Erik frowned.
Charles looked at him. "Your path is right."
Everyone in the cabin looked up at the same time.
Charles continued, "Humans will never accept us. Not because they are evil, but because they are afraid. Afraid of us, afraid of Mutants, afraid of anything stronger than them."
He looked at Erik, his eyes as calm as a pool of stagnant water.
"So the path you want to take is right. To build a home belonging to Mutants, a place where we don't have to look at the faces of humans."
Erik was silent for a long time.
Then he asked, "And what about you?"
Charles: "Me?"
"What do you plan to do?"
Charles was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. "I plan to open a school."
Erik raised an eyebrow.
"To teach Mutant children how to control their abilities," Charles said. "To let them learn how to get along with humans, how to protect themselves, how to... survive."
He looked at Erik, his eyes complex.
"You walk your path. I'll walk mine. Neither of us knows which path is right. But at least, Mutants will have two paths to choose from."
Erik stared at him for a long time.
Then he stood up and turned toward the cabin door.
"Erik," Charles called out to him.
Erik turned back.
Charles reached out his hand. "The helmet."
Erik was stunned for a moment, then he looked down, took off Shaw's helmet, and placed it in his hand.
Charles took the helmet, touched the cold metal surface, and said softly, "In the future, it will remind me that some enemies cannot be resolved through persuasion."
Erik looked at him, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.
"Take care," he said.
Erik's hand pressed against the cold cabin door, and he did not look back.
With a sudden pull, a violent current of air instantly swept through the cabin, papers swirling, blowing so hard people could not keep their eyes open.
He stood sideways in the center of the gale, looking back one last time—his gaze passed in turn over Charles on the stretcher, the sobbing Hank, Moira huddled in the corner, Rorschach holding Raven tightly...
Finally, it settled on Raven, with unspeakable emotions churning deep within those heterochromatic eyes.
One second, two seconds... He turned his head resolutely and, as if breaking free from shackles, leaped into the churning sea of clouds.
Below, a piece of twisted metal wreckage broke through the waves, precisely catching his falling figure.
He stood firm like a god of steel, carrying his conviction and determination, tearing through the clouds and flying rapidly toward the horizon in the opposite direction of the plane, his figure quickly condensing into a small, hard, and finally vanishing black dot in the vast sky.
Chapter 94: Parting Ways
The cabin door slowly closed.
Silence fell over the cabin once again.
Charles lay on the stretcher, clutching the helmet in his hands and staring at the ceiling of the cabin without saying a word.
Raven suddenly stood up, walked to the cabin door, and stared at the closed door for a long time.
Then she turned around, walked to Rorschach's side, and sat down.
Rorschach looked at her. "Not going after him?"
Raven shook her head.
"Why?"
Raven was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Because he said he would always be watching over me. No matter which path I take."
Rorschach was stunned for a moment, then he smiled.
He reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, saying nothing.
The plane pierced through the clouds, flying north.
Sunlight streamed in through the porthole, falling on Charles's face. He closed his eyes and held the helmet in his arms like a precious relic.
Moira was still kneeling beside him, motionless.
Charles opened his eyes and looked at her. "What do you plan to do?"
Moira looked up at him blankly.
Charles said, "You can still go back and continue being a CIA Agent. Or... stay."
Moira was stunned.
"Stay?" her voice trembled. "I... I hurt you..."
"It wasn't intentional," Charles interrupted her. "And you were right. Fear sometimes pulls a trigger that even reason cannot control. When Erik was killing, someone indeed needed to stop him. You only did what you thought was right."
Moira's tears welled up again.
Charles reached out and gently patted her shoulder. "Stay. Help me build that school. This school also needs eyes that have learned to understand human fear."
Moira looked at him, her lips trembling, and finally nodded vigorously.
Hank whispered from the side, "Charles, your legs—"
"I know," Charles interrupted, opening his eyes to look at him. "Hank, do something for me."
"What is it?"
"Build something. Something that can let me walk."
Hank was stunned for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Okay."
Charles closed his eyes again.
The roar of the plane's engines was like a lullaby, making everyone drowsy.
Rorschach leaned on Raven's shoulder, watching the Cuban waters recede outside the porthole.
On the sea's surface, that battlefield was no longer visible.
Only a few wisps of smoke still slowly rose under the setting sun.
[System Prompt: Key historical node change detected—Charles Xavier paralyzed, Erik Lehnsherr officially leaves the X-Men, Mystique Raven chooses to stay, Moira MacTaggert joins the X-Mansion]
[points +0, Current Total points: 11400]
Rorschach looked at the prompt and sighed silently in his heart.
Professor X and Magneto.
From this day forth, they officially part ways.
He looked down at the red string on his wrist and gently touched it.
"Next," he said softly, "whose turn is it?"
Raven looked up at him. "What did you say?"
"Nothing." Rorschach smiled and closed his eyes.
The plane continued to fly north.
The setting sun was like blood, sinking into the churning dark blue abyss beneath the wings, painting the small cabin in a warm yet ethereal orange-red.
The roar of the engines was the only requiem.
Charles lay on the stretcher with his eyes tightly shut, the cold metal of the helmet pressed against his chest as if drawing a sliver of strength to combat the void.
Everyone was immersed in their own vortex of thoughts; the silence was louder than the engine noise.
A heavy and certain realization weighed on their hearts: the era defined by those names that once stood side by side, intertwined with ideals and passion—Charles and Erik—was, in this blood-colored twilight, forever nailed to the bulkhead of history by that deflected bullet and that resolute leap.
Awaiting them ahead were their own long voyages, lonely yet destined to be entangled.
From today on, there is only Professor X.
Only Magneto.
Chapter 95: Decisions After Trauma
The plane flew north through the clouds.
Outside the porthole, the golden-red sunset splashed recklessly, melting the sea of clouds and the horizon into a magnificent, breathtaking tableau.
Yet inside the cabin, no one admired this brilliance; a heavy silence swallowed everything.
Charles lay on a stretcher, holding the helmet, staring at the cabin ceiling, lost in thought.
Hank squatted beside him, glancing between his wound and his face, his lips twitching, but he couldn't find the words.
Moira curled up in a corner, clutching her knees, her body still trembling slightly. Her eyes were red and swollen, and tear stains still marked her face.
Raven sat next to Rorschach, her head resting on his shoulder, not saying a word.
Sea Witch Xien leaned against the cabin wall, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Ruin Alex stared blankly at the floor. Angel Salvador held Tom, gently patting his back.
Tom huddled in her arms and whispered, "Mr. Charles, will he be okay?"
Angel touched his head but didn't speak.
The cabin was so quiet that one could hear the sound of breathing.
After a long time, Charles suddenly spoke: "Hank."
Hank immediately leaned in: "I'm here."
"What are your plans once we get back?"
Hank was stunned for a moment: "Plans? I... I want to help you build the school."
Charles smiled, a very faint smile: "I know. I'm asking about you, personally."
Hank was silent for a few seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing: "I want to... study the source of mutant abilities. The mysteries of genes, the differences between us and humans..."
His gaze involuntarily drifted toward Charles's legs, his voice suddenly deepening, "And... the possibility of restoring damaged mutant abilities... even bodies."
Charles looked at him, his eyes filled with relief: "Good."
He turned his head and looked at Moira: "Moira."
Moira looked up, her gaze vacant.
"Come here."
Moira stood up, stumbled over, and knelt by the stretcher.
Charles looked at her and said softly, "You just said you wanted to stay?"
Moira nodded, her voice raspy: "If you're willing."
"Of course I am." Charles reached out and patted her shoulder. "I need someone to help me handle external relations. The government, the Military, the CIA. You're more suited for it than anyone."
Moira was stunned: "But... I hurt you..."
"That was an accident," Charles interrupted her. "And when you fired, you were trying to stop the slaughter. I don't think you were wrong."
Moira's tears welled up again.
Charles smiled: "Don't cry. You'll be busy from now on."
Moira nodded vigorously and wiped away her tears.
Rorschach leaned on Raven's shoulder, watching this scene, and silently gave Charles a thumbs-up.
This man is truly magnanimous.
If it were anyone else, being paralyzed by one of their own and not hating them would be lucky enough, let alone keeping them around.
But he also understood that Charles was just that kind of person. He believed in the inherent goodness of humanity and that everyone deserved a second chance.
Rorschach couldn't learn that kind of naivety.
But he respected it.
Raven suddenly asked, "Do you really not regret staying?"
Rorschach looked down at her: "Regret what?"
"Going with Erik," Raven said. "His side might be more suitable for you."
A playful curve touched the corner of Rorschach's lips: "Oh? You think I'm a natural for the business of killing and arson?"
Raven's golden eyes locked onto him without blinking: "Aren't you? Back on the sea, you were quite 'busy'."
Rorschach was slightly taken aback, then let out a low laugh, sounding somewhat resigned: "Tsk, you've got sharp eyes."
He pulled Raven's shoulder closer and said softly, "But I kill to survive. He kills for an ideal. It's different."
Raven didn't speak.
Rorschach continued, "Besides, you're here. Why would I leave?"
Raven looked up at him, her gaze complex.
Finally, she sighed and leaned back on his shoulder: "You have so many secrets."
Rorschach didn't respond.
He looked at the sunset outside the porthole, silently calculating.
Erik was gone. Charles was paralyzed. The X-Mansion was about to be built.
The next ten years would be a growth period.
He had to make good use of this time to collect all the abilities he could and kill all the people who needed killing.
Especially that Stryker.
And the Sentinels of the future.
His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the faded red string on his wrist; beneath the cold touch lay boiling calculations.
[System Prompt: Detecting that the host is planning a long-term strategy]
[Recommendation: "Infiltrate X-Mansion, Ten-Year Layout" is about to begin]
A fleeting, imperceptible glint flashed in Rorschach's eyes, and the corners of his mouth curled up silently.
Bring it on.
The plane continued to fly north.
The sunset finally sank into the ink-black horizon, leaving only a struggling, fleeting remnant of red on the porthole.
Charles closed his eyes, holding the helmet, his breathing gradually steadying.
Hank leaned against the cabin wall and began sketching in a notebook.
Moira sat back in the corner, her gaze gradually becoming firm.
Banshee and Alex had already fallen asleep.
Angel held Tom, softly humming a song.
Raven leaned on Rorschach's shoulder, her breathing steady.
Rorschach looked at the darkening sky outside the window, thinking to himself:
Charles, Erik, you go your ways.
I'll go mine.
In ten years, we'll see whose path goes further.
Chapter 96: Fall of the Black King
The plane flew steadily.
Only the hum of the engine remained in the cabin.
Charles lay on a stretcher with his eyes closed, clutching the helmet in his hand.
Hank fell asleep leaning against the bulkhead.
Moira curled up in a corner, tear stains still on her face.
Raven leaned on Rorschach's shoulder, her breathing steady.
Rorschach also had his eyes closed, seemingly resting.
Suddenly—
[System Notification: Detected that target "Sebastian Shaw's" vital signs have not disappeared]
[Current Location: 120 nautical miles Southeast, underground Soviet Union abandoned submarine Base]
[Energy Absorption Overload Status: 42%, slowly releasing]
Rorschach snapped his eyes open.
Shaw isn't dead?
He narrowed his eyes and quickly scanned the cabin.
Everyone was asleep; no one noticed him.
He gently leaned Raven's head against the bulkhead and stood up.
"Going to the restroom," he whispered; no one responded.
He walked to the rear of the cabin, pushed open the restroom door, and locked it.
The next second—
[Spatial Jump 2.0]
His figure vanished instantly.
—
120 nautical miles away, the abandoned submarine Baseon the seabed.
Shaw leaned against a rusted pipe, gasping for air.
He took off his shirt, revealing skin covered in cracks—red light seeped through the cracks like magma surging beneath the skin, or like a volcano about to erupt.
"Damn it..." He gritted his teeth, pressing both hands against the metal wall, forcibly channeling the excess energy into it.
The metal pipe turned red-hot instantly, sizzling as seawater touching the pipe wall immediately boiled into steam, filling the entire Base with white mist.
Shaw's complexion improved slightly. He looked down at his hands; the cracks were slowly healing, and the red light was gradually fading.
"Erik..." he muttered the name under his breath, his eyes as sinister as if dipped in poison. "Next time we meet, I will definitely—"
"Definitely what?"
A voice came from behind him, tinged with amusement.
Shaw whipped his head around.
Rorschach stood just three meters away, stepping in ankle-deep water with a smile on his face.
Water droplets dripping from the ruptured pipes overhead were bounced away by an invisible barrier before they could touch his body.
Shaw's pupils shrank to pinpoints. "You?! How did you find this place?!"
Rorschach didn't answer. He just looked at the cracks on Shaw's body and nodded slowly. "Still releasing energy? That makes things easier."
Shaw's heart tightened, and he instinctively raised his hand—
[Energy Blast]
A thick golden energy wave erupted from his palm, sweeping toward Rorschach with a terrifying roar! Wherever the energy passed, the water on the ground instantly evaporated into white mist, and the air itself distorted.
Rorschach didn't dodge.
[Diamond Form 2.1]
The moment the energy wave was about to swallow him, Rorschach's body suddenly erupted with a blinding light—not golden, but the brilliant luster unique to diamonds!
In an instant, his skin underwent a qualitative change: from flesh and blood to pure, colorless, transparent crystal.
Every inch of his skin reflected the dim lights of the Base, like a diamond statue carved by a master craftsman spending a lifetime of effort.
The energy wave crashed into him like a tidal wave hitting an ancient reef—splattering in all directions. The golden energy streams diverted around both sides of his body and exploded behind him, blasting the rusted metal pipes into fragments.
Rorschach stood his ground, motionless.
Shaw's eyes widened, fear appearing on his face for the first time. "You—what kind of monster are you?!"
Rorschach took a step forward.
His diamond body made faint, crisp "clack-clack" sounds as he moved, the sound of perfect engagement and friction between crystals.
His eye sockets remained deep hollows, but Shaw could feel those invisible eyes staring intently at him.
"Absorbed quite a bit, haven't you?" Rorschach's voice came from within the diamond body, carrying a metallic quality. "How much capacity for Energy Absorption is left in your body now? 30%? 35%?"
Shaw took a step back, his foot slipping, nearly falling.
He understood.
This person was here to finish him off.
"Wait!" Shaw raised his hand, panic entering his voice for the first time. "We can talk! I know many secrets—Hellfire's wealth, the whereabouts of other Mutants, even some classified information! Spare my life, and I'll tell you everything!"
Rorschach didn't stop.
His diamond soles stepped on the water, ripples spreading with every step, like the death knell rung by the God of Death.
"If you kill me, Erik won't be grateful to you!" Shaw continued to shout, his back hitting the cold metal wall, with nowhere left to retreat. "We can collaborate! You are stronger than anyone I've ever seen, together we can rule—"
Rorschach walked up to him and looked down.
There was no expression on the diamond-covered face, only a bone-chilling coldness.
"Are you finished?"
Shaw opened his mouth.
Rorschach raised his hand and pressed it onto Shaw's shoulder.
At that moment, Shaw felt that what was pressed against his shoulder wasn't a hand, but an energy extraction machine running frantically!
[Energy Manipulation]
The energy inside Shaw—the residual energy he hadn't had time to release, the energy he had painstakingly absorbed from nuclear submarines, metal fragments, and all of Erik's attacks—suddenly began to flow back frantically!
Not outward, but inward!
Compressing deeper into his body!
Shaw's eyes instantly widened to their limit, his eyeballs bloodshot.
He looked down at his hands; the cracks that were slowly healing just moments ago were now re-tearing, expanding, and spreading at a speed visible to the naked eye!
Red light jetted out from the cracks like water from a high-pressure hose!
"No—!" Shaw screamed, his voice as shrill as a dying Beast.
His body began to swell, the energy beneath his skin slithering like countless poisonous snakes. Wherever it went, the skin bulged and tore, spraying blinding golden light.
His face distorted, his features flickering in and out of the golden light like a photograph being consumed by flames.
[Energy Absorption Critical Point: 80%]
[85%]
[90%]
Rorschach let go and took a step back.
Shaw's body had completely spiraled out of control.
He was like a balloon being blown until it burst; his skin tore into countless fragments, and blinding golden light jetted from every crack, illuminating the entire Base.
His mouth was wide open, but he couldn't make a sound because his vocal cords had been incinerated by the energy.
Three seconds later—
BOOM!!!
Blinding golden light swallowed everything around it!
The Impact swept through everything with irresistible force: rusted metal equipment was torn to shreds, and concrete walls collapsed like they were made of paper.
But Rorschach was already standing ten meters away.
[Diamond Form 2.1] + [Super Defense 2.4]
His body remained motionless in the energy storm, like a reef isolated at sea.
Those energy streams, capable of shredding steel, could only kick up a few insignificant sparks when they hit him.
The light dissipated.
Where Shaw had stood, only a slowly dispersing mist of blood remained.
Rorschach raised his hand and caught a drop of blood.
The blood drop fell onto his palm.
At that moment, Rorschach's body shuddered violently!
[Blood Contact Detected (Male Target: Sebastian Shaw)]
[Extracting Ability...]
[Obtained: Energy Absorption 2.5]
[Fusion-capable ability combination detected: Energy Absorption 2.5 + Energy Manipulation 2.4 → Energy Domination 2.6]
[Fusion beginning...]
Rorschach closed his eyes.
He felt as if two massive vortexes were approaching, colliding, and merging within his body.
One was the original Energy Manipulation, like a precision-running machine; the other was the newly acquired Energy Absorption, like a greedily devouring black hole.
The hand he had just used to press against Shaw was faintly glowing—not with his own light, but with the residual energy he had absorbed circulating inside the diamond!
He could clearly feel that violent energy surging through his arm into his entire body, clashing violently with his original Energy Manipulation system!
The fusion had begun.
Every cell in his body frantically devoured the new energy like parched earth absorbing rain; the original energy systems collided violently, like hungry Beasts biting at prey.
He could feel his Energy Manipulation ability expanding, evolving, and undergoing a qualitative change—
The moment the two made contact—BOOM!
It felt as if something had exploded inside him.
It wasn't pain, but an unprecedented sense of expansion.
He felt he could "see" all forms of energy around him: the residual thermal energy in the metal pipes beneath his feet, the potential energy in the water droplets dripping from above, even the Light Energy scattered in the aftermath of the distant explosion—all clearly visible, like a 3D energy map.
He could "touch" them.
He could "dominate" them.
Rorschach opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.
The Diamond Form had receded, revealing normal skin.
But at this moment, his palm was faintly glowing with a layer of pale golden light—the faint shimmer of energy circulating within him, peeking through his skin.
He clenched his fist.
The air in his palm suddenly let out a sharp crack—a trace of energy he had unintentionally released directly compressed the air in his palm, blasting out a visible ripple.
[Fusion Complete]
[Current Ability: Energy Domination 2.6]
[points +2000 (Special reward for Shaw level 2.5), current total points: 13400]
Rorschach looked down at his hands, a smile slowly curling the corners of his mouth.
Not absorption.
But dominion.
[Spatial Jump 2.0]
His figure vanished.
—
Three minutes later, the restroom door on the plane opened.
Rorschach walked out and returned to his seat.
Raven was still asleep; her head tilted and leaned back onto his shoulder.
Her breathing was still steady, her blue skin glowing softly in the moonlight.
Rorschach looked down at her and reached out to gently stroke her hair.
Then he looked up and gazed out the window.
The night was as dark as ink, with a few scattered fires on the sea—remnants of the day's battle, slowly dying out in the sea breeze.
He touched his palm.
There, the pale golden shimmer had dissipated, but he could clearly feel a brand-new power lurking in every inch of his flesh, ready at a moment's notice.
From this day forward, any form of energy would have to obey him.
Rorschach closed his eyes.
Chapter 97: Post-War Upgrade
The plane continued its flight northward.
Outside the porthole, the night was as dark as ink, with occasional scattered lights flashing through the gaps in the clouds—those were small towns on the coastline, a sleeping United States.
Rorschach leaned back in his seat, seemingly resting with his eyes closed, but in reality, he was checking the system panel.
[Current points: 13,400]
[Upgradable Abilities List:]
[Space Jump 2.0 → 2.1 (Requires 1,000)]
[Magnetic Field Manipulation 2.0 → 2.1 (Requires 1,000)]
[Energy Domination 2.6 → 2.7 (Requires 1,000)]
[Diamond Form 2.1 → 2.2 (Requires 1,000)]
[Super Speed 2.0 → 2.1 (Requires 1,000)]
Rorschach made quick calculations in his mind.
Energy Domination was sufficient; 2.6 was already stronger than Shaw was when he was alive.
No rush, prioritize mobility and control first.
Survival first—this was the iron rule he had established since the World of The Boys.
"Upgrade."
[Consumed 1,000 points: Space Jump 2.0 → 2.1]
[Consumed 1,000 points: Magnetic Field Manipulation2.0 → 2.1]
[Current Total points: 11,400]
The moment the command was issued, Rorschach's body jolted slightly.
Two warm currents of air surged into his body simultaneously.
One coiled around his spine, like countless tiny electrical currents jumping between neurons; the other started from his heart, spreading through his blood vessels to his four limbs and entire skeleton.
The sensation brought by the Space Jump upgrade was the most obvious.
He felt his range of perception suddenly stretch—not his vision, but his "Sense of Coordinates."
He could clearly "see" every spatial node within a ten-kilometer radius: the restroom at the rear of the plane, the clouds beneath the wings, the debris floating on the sea, and even the lighthouse on the distant coastline.
If he wished, he could appear at any node in the next second.
The changes brought by the Magnetic Field Manipulationupgrade were more subtle.
He could feel the plane itself—those countless metal rivets, the frame, the engine blades—all surfacing in his mind like a three-dimensional metal map.
He could even perceive the faint stress changes within those metals—which rivet was loose, which steel plate had a crack.
He opened his eyes and flexed his fingers.
The cooldown for Space Jump had been halved, and the range of Magnetic Field Manipulation had expanded to ten kilometers, allowing for the precise localization of all metal within the area.
Including the plane itself.
Including that coin left by Erik—it was lying quietly on the cabin floor, with faint magnetic fluctuations still lingering on it.
He looked up at Charles on the stretcher.
The Professor had his eyes closed, clutching that helmet, his brow furrowed.
Moonlight shone in from the porthole, falling on his pale face, making him look like a stone sculpture.
It was unclear if he was asleep or thinking.
Suddenly, Charles opened his eyes and looked at him.
Their eyes met.
In that instant, Rorschach felt a faint surge of Psychic Power sweep over him, as fleeting as a dragonfly skimming the water.
Charles stared at him for three seconds and said softly, "Your Psychic Power... is much stronger than when you first arrived."
Rorschach's heart skipped a beat, but he smiled nonchalantly. "Is that so? Maybe I've been in too many fights lately, and it's been exercised."
Charles looked at him for a long time, his gaze deep as if trying to see through him.
Finally, he nodded slowly. "Perhaps."
He closed his eyes and said no more.
Rorschach remained calm on the surface, but secretly gave the system a thumbs-up.
Fortunately, with the system's core masking, 80% of his abilities were marked as "Unawakened/Pending Detection."
Otherwise, with Charles's current sensitivity, it might not have been possible to hide it.
He turned to look out the porthole.
In the night, a cluster of lights appeared on the distant horizon—that was New York, the city that never sleeps.
Raven leaned against his shoulder, her breathing steady.
At some point, her hand had rested on the back of his, her blue skin appearing exceptionally soft under the moonlight.
Rorschach gently touched her fingers, his gaze falling on the red string around his wrist.
From The Boys to X-Men, from Homelander to Shaw, it had always been there.
Shaw was dead.
His abilities were upgraded.
Next—
He closed his eyes, and several names surfaced in his mind:
William Stryker.
Bolivar Trask.
And... that existence slumbering beneath the Egyptian pyramids—Apocalypse.
A cold sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.
If one comes, I'll kill one.
If two come, I'll kill a pair.
[System Prompt: Key Event—Killed Sebastian Shaw, altered historical node]
[points settlement complete, current total points: 11,400]
[Detected new World line deviation: Hellfire Club on the verge of collapse, Magneto officially breaks away from the X-Men]
[Next phase recommendation: Handle potential threats—Stryker/Trask]
Rorschach looked at that line of text and slowly closed his eyes.
The plane passed through the clouds, flying toward New York.
Chapter 98: Westchester
Westchester County, New York.
Cardboard boxes were piled up at the entrance of the manor. Charles sat in his wheelchair, directing workers to move books. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his eyes were frighteningly bright—this was the place where his dreams would take flight.
"Rorschach! Don't just stand there watching, come and help!" Charles shouted.
Rorschach leaned against a doorpost, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth. "I'm a mentor, not a mover."
"An off-staff mentor," Charles smiled. "And you're the Mutant with the best physical stamina I've ever seen. Stop pretending."
Rorschach shrugged and picked up two boxes of books with one hand, heading inside.
As he passed the living room, Raven was standing on the sofa hanging curtains. Her blue skin shimmered like pearls in the sunlight, her waist bent into a tight arc, and two nails were held between her teeth.
"What are you looking at?" she asked without turning around, her voice muffled.
"Looking at which girl hangs curtains like she's defusing a bomb," Rorschach said lazily.
Raven turned and threw a throw pillow at him. "Shut up! These damn hooks keep getting stuck—"
She yanked roughly on a hook, and the curtain slid down halfway with a 'clatter'.
Rorschach chuckled and sauntered into the hallway carrying the book boxes.
He caught the curtain and tossed it back with a flick of his hand. "I'll help you adjust it tonight."
"Aren't you supposed to be with me tonight?" Raven raised an eyebrow.
"To help you adjust the curtains, no problem."
Raven raised an eyebrow and walked away.
Hank popped his head out from the Underground Room, his face smeared with dust from reagent bottles, his blue fur a messy explosion. "Rorschach, the lab you wanted is ready—by the way, what do you want it for?"
"To research how to turn you back to a normal color."
Hank's expression froze, his blue fingers instinctively gripping the doorframe. "This is—"
"I know, you did it to yourself," Rorschach leaned against the doorframe with a half-smile. "Since coming back from Cuba, you've been cooped up in the lab every day researching that 'Cure Serum,' trying to make yourself 'normal' to be worthy of someone, right? Well, it didn't work, and you turned yourself from 'Bigfoot' into a'Smurf'."
Hank's mouth dropped open. "You... how did you—"
Rorschach waved a hand. "That bit of dark history of yours, I could piece it together just by glancing at the discarded formulas in the trash can in the Underground Room."
Hank fell silent for two seconds, looking down at his blue palms.
After the battle on the beach in Cuba, he had seen his comrade Darwin crumble into ash with his own eyes, and he had seen Charles fall on the sand after being hit in the spine by a bullet.
Back in New York, he locked himself in the Underground Room and stayed up for seven nights, trying to concoct a serum that could 'correct the mutation'—at least, to make himself look like a normal person.
The moment he injected it, his whole body felt like it was being burned by fire.
When he woke up again, he didn't recognize the person in the mirror anymore.
"I didn't have a choice then," Hank's voice lowered. "I thought I could control it, but this happened. Now look at me, my hands are three sizes bigger, my feet can fit into two people's shoes, and I've grown a coat of blue fur."
He looked up, his eyes tinged with self-deprecation. "Charles says it's a 'Secondary Mutation' and that I might be able to switch forms later. But I've tried several times, and the time I can stay changed back is getting shorter and shorter. Now, this is basically how I am."
Rorschach stared at him for three seconds, then suddenly laughed. "Alright, enough with the sentimentality, I was just joking."
"...A joke?"
"This blue fur is pretty good, makes you look young," Rorschach patted Hank's shoulder. "Besides, the X-Menwouldn't be complete without a blue mascot. How else would we greet people?"
Hank was stunned, his blue face shifting from confusion to a twitch, finally squeezing out: "Can't you be a bit more serious?"
"No." Rorschach had already turned and walked away, waving without looking back. "The lab is nice, I'll buy you a drink another day—call it a celebration for your successful blueness. By the way, tell me before you research a serum next time. I'll help you keep an eye on things, so you don't turn yourself green."
Hank stood there, watching the back disappear at the end of the hallway.
After a while, he looked down at his blue hands and suddenly gave a helpless laugh.
An echo came from the hallway: "Oh, right—Raven just asked me where you were. I told her you were painting yourself. She said for you to hurry out and eat once you're done."
Hank was stunned, not knowing whether to be happy or to curse.
At three in the afternoon, the first batch of students arrived.
Six children, aged eleven to fifteen.
Rorschach stood by the second-floor window, watching Charles shake hands with each of them.
The red-haired girl was at the end of the line, as quiet as a porcelain doll.
A cold red light suddenly flared at the edge of his vision, and a mechanical voice buzzed deep in his skull:
[Warning: High-dimensional energy body approaching—Jean Grey/Phoenix Force 4.0+]
"What are you looking at?" Raven hugged him from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder.
"Looking at that red-head."
Raven followed his gaze and frowned. "Charles said she's very special. Stay away from her."
"Jealous?"
"I'm afraid you'll be eaten by that child," Raven bit his ear. "You can only be eaten by me."
Rorschach turned and pinned her against the window. "Let's see who eats who tonight."
Raven's eyes flashed, and she leaned in for a kiss. "Just you wait."
After dinner, Charles called Rorschach to the study.
"I want to ask you to be in charge of combat classes," Charles got straight to the point. "Teach the children how to fight, how to run, and how to survive."
Rorschach leaned against the doorframe. "Are you sure? My teaching style is a bit wild."
"I've seen it," Charles paused. "On the beach in Cuba, those few minutes you disappeared... later Shaw died."
Rorschach didn't respond.
"I won't ask how you did it," Charles looked him in the eye. "But I want you to teach this to the children."
"Why?"
"I've seen it," Charles's fingers lightly tapped the armrest of his wheelchair. "In Cuba, those three minutes you disappeared... later Shaw disappeared."
He looked up, his gaze piercing through his lenses to pin Rorschach. "I won't pry into secrets, but the children need this'survival' ability. The Military has built a new Mutant detention center in Bolivia... and we haven't even finished installing alarms."
Rorschach was silent for three seconds. "Fine."
"Not asking about the salary?"
"Room and board is enough."
Charles smiled. "Then you stay in that room, it's close to Raven."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
Charles shrugged. " I was only talking about the geographical location."
Leaving the study, Rorschach passed by Jean's room.
The door was slightly ajar, and the little girl was sitting by the window, looking at the moon.
She suddenly turned her head and met his gaze through the crack in the door.
Rorschach paused in his tracks.
Jean said softly, "There is a special aura about you."
Rorschach's footsteps halted, his fingers unconsciously tightening on the doorframe.
The system warning echoed sharply in his mind. He forced down his instinct to retreat, instead wearing his usual casual smile. "Kid, looking at the moonlight too much makes you talk in your sleep."
Jean did not respond, as if the whisper just now was only an illusion of the night wind.
But when Rorschach turned around, the back of his shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.
As if nothing had happened.
Chapter 99: Raven's Deep Affection
The night in Westchester was quiet.
So quiet that one could hear the wind in the distant forest, the rustling of Charles turning pages in his study, and Hank's gurgling reagents in the Underground Room.
But Rorschach couldn't hear any of that.
He could only hear Raven's breathing.
The room's window was open, and moonlight spilled in, paving a silvery white path on the floor.
Raven stood by the window, her back to him, her blue skin shimmering with a pearlescent glow in the moonlight.
She was wearing his White shirt.
Only one.
The shirt's hem barely covered her thighs, and the collar was open, revealing the curve of her collarbone.
Her hair was loose, the ends slightly curled, swaying gently with the night breeze.
"Why are you standing there?" she asked without turning her head, her voice lazy. "It's not like you haven't seen it before."
Rorschach walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
Raven's body stiffened slightly, then softened, leaning back into his embrace.
"What are you thinking about?" His chin rested on her shoulder, his lips against her earlobe.
"Thinking about that red-haired little girl from earlier today." Raven tilted her head, giving him a better angle. "She said you had a special scent about you. I wanted to ask then—what kind of scent? A charming one?"
Rorschach chuckled, his hand naughtily moving upwards: "You're so cute when you're jealous."
"Who's jealous?" Raven caught his wandering hand, but didn't push it away. "I'm just reminding you—that child is Charles's precious darling. If you dare touch her, Charleswill wash your brains out."
"I don't touch children."
"What about adults, then?"
"Adults are fair game."
Raven turned around to face him.
Moonlight streamed in from behind her, outlining her body with a silver edge.
She looked up at Rorschach, her eyes shimmering with light, like two sapphires soaking in wine.
"Rorschach," she whispered.
"Hmm?"
"You said this afternoon that tonight we'd see who eats whom."
"I remember."
Raven stood on tiptoe and bit his lower lip, her voice squeezed out between her teeth: "Then what are we waiting for?"
The moonlight flowed over the windowsill, gently enveloping their figures.
An entire night of tenderness and intimacy was quietly hidden by the darkness.
Rorschach picked her up in his arms and walked towards the bed.
Raven lay on the bed, watching Rorschach standing beside it.
Moonlight outlined his figure, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness, like two burning embers.
"What are you looking at?" he asked.
"Looking at how long you can keep this up."
Rorschach chuckled, then leaned down: "Then watch closely."
During their prolonged intimacy, Raven's fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly, her breathing growing ragged.
She could feel his warmth and strength, her entire body sinking into the soft bed.
"Rorschach..." she called his name, her voice drifting.
"Hmm?"
"You... you in the future..."
"Future what?"
"If you dare to flirt around in the future—I'll—I'll make it so you can never use those abilities again!"
Rorschach smiled: "Threatening me now?"
"I'm serious!" Raven glared at him, though her eyes had long lost their strength. "Don't think I'm—joking—"
Rorschach didn't speak, just leaned down and kissed her.
Raven quickly became speechless.
Her mind was a blank, all her thoughts scattered in the moonlight.
In that final moment, she arched her head back, her neck taut, letting out a suppressed gasp.
Then her whole body went limp, gasping for air.
—
An hour later.
Raven lay on Rorschach's chest, her fingers tracing circles on his abs.
Her blue skin still had a thin sheen of sweat, like scattered diamonds in the moonlight.
Her hair was messy, a few strands clinging to her face, her breathing gradually evening out.
"You..." she began, her voice still a little hoarse, "how many women have you had before?"
Rorschach thought for a moment: "Haven't counted."
Raven looked up and bit his chin: "Tell the truth."
"I really haven't counted." Rorschach stroked her hair. "Anyway, none of them were as beautiful as you."
"That's just perfunctory."
"Then let me ask you—how many men have you had before?"
Raven was silent for two seconds: "Haven't counted either."
"Then we're even."
Raven chuckled, then lay back on his chest.
After a moment of silence, she suddenly said: "Just now... it was a bit scary."
"What was scary?"
"Your..." She paused, not finishing her sentence.
Rorschach smiled: "Scared?"
Raven punched him: "Scared of you, my foot!"
"Can't be."
Raven rolled her eyes, but her lips were curved upwards.
After a while, she said again: "I was just thinking, what if we have children in the future?"
Rorschach looked down at her: "Scared?"
"Scared of what?" Raven pouted. "I was just thinking, if they're born, will they be blue or White?"
Rorschach thought seriously: "Fifty-fifty, I guess. Maybe a zebra."
Raven shook with laughter, then punched him again after she finished laughing: "You're the zebra! Your whole family are zebras!"
Rorschach caught her hand and kissed it at his lips.
Raven quieted down, looking at him.
Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on their intertwined hands. A night bird called in the distance, then silence returned.
"Rorschach," she suddenly said seriously.
"Hmm?"
"Don't die."
Rorschach was stunned for a moment.
Raven looked into his eyes, the moonlight reflected in her blue pupils: "Today, when I saw Shaw's submarine explode, I was thinking, what if you died? Later, when you came back, I pretended to be asleep, but I was actually smelling your scent—the burnt smell after the explosion. I knew then that you had been there."
Rorschach was silent.
"I don't know how you killed him," Raven said. "And I won't ask. But you have to promise me—don't go to your death alone again. If we die, we die together."
Rorschach looked at her for a long time.
Finally, he lowered his head and kissed her forehead.
"Okay."
Raven closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips.
The moonlight outside the window slowly moved, falling on their clasped hands.
[Intimate contact detected (female target: Raven)]
[Ability extraction in progress...]
[Ability upgrade: Shapeshifting 2.0 → 2.3)]
[points +1000, current total points: 12400]
Rorschach looked at the system prompt, then at Raven, who was already asleep in his arms.
She slept soundly, her breathing even, a smile still on her lips.
He reached out and brushed the stray hairs from her forehead.
This woman was worth it.
Chapter 100: New Generation Enrollment
Morning in Westchester was sunny.
Rorschach leaned against the railing of the academy's second-floor terrace, holding a cup of coffee and watching the winding road at the foot of the mountain.
For the first time, he felt this place finally looked a bit like an 'academy'.
Raven had been tossed around too hard by him last night; she was still lying on the bed refusing to get up, and even threw a pillow at his back when he left—"Are you even human?"
He had closed the door with a smile then, offering no rebuttal.
At this moment, the morning breeze blew past. He squinted and saw three black sedans driving along the road, kicking up a trail of dust.
"They're here," he whispered.
Five minutes later, Charles met them at the door in his wheelchair.
Rorschach leaned against a doorpost, a blade of grass in his mouth, looking like an idle bystander watching the fun.
The first car door opened, and a tall, thin youth stepped out, wearing red quartz glasses, his brown hair combed meticulously.
Standing by the car, he subconsciously scanned the surroundings—first the building exits, then the crowd's positioning, and finally looking at Charles.
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
This reaction speed and alertness didn't seem like a sixteen-year-old; it was more like someone who had served in the military.
"Scott Summers," Charles said with a smile, extending his hand. "Welcome to X-Mansion."
Scott's handshake was standard with moderate strength, but Rorschach noticed his fingers trembling slightly—not from nervousness, but from suppressing some instinct.
"Thank you for being willing to take me in," Scott's voice was a bit tight. "I... my eyes..."
"I know." Charles patted his hand. "Here, you are not a monster; you are a student."
The second car door opened, and a black girl stepped out with short, curly hair and a somewhat wild look in her eyes.
The first thing she did after getting out was look up at the sky and frown.
"The weather in this damn place..." she muttered.
Rorschach almost laughed out loud.
Because the very next second after she finished muttering, a cloud drifted overhead, blocking the Sun.
Rorschach's brow twitched slightly; this unconscious energy disturbance was as interesting as Raven's skin changing color when her emotions fluctuated.
"Ororo Munroe," Charles turned to her. "Welcome, child."
Storm nodded without speaking, but her eyes kept scanning the surroundings—not Scott's tactical scan, but a more primal alertness, like a stray cat used to wandering judging if a new territory was dangerous.
Out of the third car came a blonde boy with an impatient look, shouting as soon as he stepped out: "Can I leave now? I said I'm fine! You guys insisted on sending me here—"
His words came to an abrupt halt.
Because he saw Rorschach.
Rorschach was leaning against the doorpost, looking at him with a half-smile.
That gaze wasn't fierce, even a bit lazy, but the blonde boy felt a chill down his back, as if he were being stared at by some large feline.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat, his voice dropping by half. "Um... my name is Warren, Warren Worthington III."
"I know you," Rorschach said lazily. "Your dad donates two hundred thousand dollars to the X-Mansion every year, specifically requesting private tutoring for you."
Warren's face flushed: "That's because he wanted to, I didn't—"
"Alright." Rorschach waved his hand, interrupting him. "Come in, don't block the way at the door."
Warren opened his mouth, forced himself to swallow the rest of his sentence, and walked inside obediently.
As he passed Rorschach, he subconsciously glanced at Rorschach's back—no trace of wings.
"What are you looking at?" Rorschach asked without turning his head.
"No, nothing!"
Warren scurried into the house.
Just then, from the Shadow of the academy's main entrance, a small, red-haired girl quietly walked out.
Jean Grey.
It had been three days since Jean arrived at the X-Mansion.
Charles said she was excessively quiet, and observing her these past few days, it was indeed so. Except for meals, she almost always stayed in her room.
She seemed to have been waiting there, her body wrapped in an oversized coat, her red hair loose, covering half her face.
She didn't look at the newly arrived cars or the crowd; instead, she looked directly up toward the second-floor terrace—
Then her vision shifted, passing through the roof and the walls—Jean's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
These past few days, she had become familiar with every energy signature in the X-Mansion, but only this person before her... was like a walking mist.
Rorschach's whole body stiffened; it was that terrible experience again.
In that instant, he felt as if a pair of eyes were looking directly through his skin, flesh, and bone, seeing the more than eighty abilities marked as "Inactivated" by the system within him, seeing the mark of slaughter he brought from the Black Robe World, and seeing the golden light that exploded in his palm before Sebastian Shaw died.
[Warning: High-dimensional energy entity is scanning the host]
[Origin Masking Protocol in operation...]
[Defense success rate: 97.3%]
"Just like when it blocked Charles's Telepathy, this protocol is quite reliable."
Rorschach remained calm on the surface, even smiling and waving at Jean.
Jean looked at him for three seconds.
Then she lowered her head and followed Charles's wheelchair inside without a word.
Rorschach stood there, the coffee in his hand already cold.
He glanced down at his palm—there, a layer of fine cold sweat had broken out in that instant.
"Holy shit!" he cursed softly.
This kid is much scarier than Sebastian Shaw.
—
At three in the afternoon, with the Sun slightly dipping to the west, Charles gathered everyone in the living room.
Jean stood alone by the window a bit further away, maintaining a natural distance from the group of noisy freshmen.
Six children stood in a row: Scott, Ororo, Warren, and three slightly younger ones—a boy who could control Fire, a girl whose fingers could release acid, and a silent youth covered in spikes.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, introducing the X-Mansionrules one by one.
"These are the new students: Scott, Ororo, Warren... and this is Jean Grey. She arrived a few days before you. You can all interact more in the future."
His voice was gentle and clear, but his gaze meticulously swept over each freshman's face, as if he could see through their inner trepidation and expectations.
Rorschach leaned in the corner, seemingly nonchalant but actually observing Scott the whole time.
This kid's stance was interesting—feet shoulder-width apart, center of gravity slightly forward, ready to strike at any moment.
The gaze behind the glasses kept scanning the surroundings, from the window's position to the distance to the door, from others' positions to the potted plant in the corner.
"Evaluating the combat environment." Rorschach had an idea, "A natural-born warrior."
After Charles finished introducing the rules, he turned to Rorschach: "This is Rorschach, responsible for your combat classes."
The six children's gazes all snapped toward him.
Rorschach lazily raised his hand as a greeting.
Warren whispered: "Him? Doesn't look like he can fight much..."
Rorschach's ears twitched, and he smiled.
"Warren, right?" He straightened up and walked toward the center of the living room. "Come, let's trade a few moves."
Warren was stunned: "Now?"
"Right now."
Warren looked at Charles, who smiled and nodded: "Give it a try; think of it as a welcoming ceremony."
Warren took a deep breath, and the clothes on his back suddenly tore—a pair of huge white wings Suddenly unfold! The edges of the wings were as sharp as knives, glinting coldly in the Sun.
Several children gasped and instinctively backed away.
Warren flapped his wings, his body lifting half a meter off the ground, looking down at Rorschach: "Are you sure?"
Rorschach stood there, hands in his pockets, looking up at him.
"Sure."
The next second—
Warren only felt a blur before his eyes.
Rorschach vanished.
No!
Warren only felt a blur before his eyes—it was a speed he had never experienced, almost like a Space Jump, a speed born from the instinct honed in countless life-and-death battles.
Warren habitually pulled upward, his wings flapping frantically—
A foot lightly stepped on his back.
"Slow."
That lazy voice came from above.
Warren turned his head stiffly and saw Rorschachstanding a meter above him, hands still in his pockets, his posture as relaxed as if he were standing on level ground.
The whole room fell silent.
Scott's glasses almost slid off.
Storm's mouth formed an 'O' shape.
Charles smiled without a word.
"How... how did you fly?" Warren stammered.
Rorschach landed and patted his pant legs: "Want to learn? I'll teach you in class later."
He turned to look at the others: "Anyone else want to try?"
Silence.
The six of them shook their heads in unison.
Rorschach nodded with satisfaction and returned to leaning in the corner.
But his gaze never left Scott.
In that instant just now, he noticed a detail—
When he disappeared and reappeared, Scott's right hand had instinctively moved up, his thumb pressing on the switch on the side of his glasses.
Reaction speed and attack preparation were both very quick.
"A good prospect," Rorschach thought, "I just need to collect some tuition first."
—
After dinner, Rorschach strolled to the training room.
Scott was indeed there.
He stood alone in the center of the training room, facing a target painted on the wall, pressing the glasses switch over and over.
Red Impact waves roared out, accurately hitting the bullseye and exploding in bursts of sparks.
But there was no satisfaction on his face, only frustration.
"Not enough," he muttered to himself. "Too slow, the switching speed is too slow—"
"How long have you been practicing?"
Scott spun around, his thumb already on the switch.
Rorschach leaned against the doorframe, holding two cans of cola, his expression innocent.
Scott breathed a sigh of relief and let go: "Mr. Rorschach..."
"Just call me Rorschach." Rorschach walked over and handed him a can of cola. "Have some Water; don't overwork yourself."
Scott took the cola but didn't drink it, just held it in his hand.
Rorschach leaned against the wall, opened his own can, and took a sip.
"When did your ability awaken?"
"Last year." Scott looked down at the cola can in his hand. "At first, I couldn't control it; things exploded wherever I went. The people at the orphanage locked me in an Underground Room with an iron door, throwing food in through the window every day..."
He paused, his voice even lower: "Later, Mr. Charles found me, gave me the glasses, and said he could teach me to control it."
Rorschach didn't speak, just listened.
"But I can't control it well." Scott gripped the cola can. "Every time I press the switch, I'm afraid I'll press it too early or too late. I'm afraid if one day the glasses fall off or the switch breaks, and I open my eyes, the person in front of me will—"
"Will be gone?"
Scott nodded.
Rorschach was silent for two seconds, then chuckled.
Scott looked up at him.
"Do you know how many powered individuals I've seen?" Rorschach looked out the window. "Some can blow up buildings with a wave of their hand, some run so fast you can't see them, some can't be killed or crushed. But they all have one thing in common."
"What?"
"Fear."
Rorschach turned to look at him: "They're all afraid. Afraid of losing control, afraid of hurting people, afraid of being seen as monsters. I've heard what you just said over twenty times."
Scott was stunned.
"But do you know what's most ridiculous?" Rorschach took a sip of cola. "The ones who truly lose control in the end are all the ones hiding in an Underground Room scaring themselves every day. The ones living well are the ones who practice when they should, eat when they should, sleep when they should, and deal with things when they happen."
He patted Scott's shoulder: "This ability of yours isn't a curse; it's a tool. Whether a tool hurts people depends on the user, not the tool."
Scott was silent for a long time.
Finally, he looked down at the cola can in his hand, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"You're welcome." Rorschach stood up and walked out. "By the way, tomorrow's combat class, you're in a group with me."
"Ah? Why?"
Rorschach looked back, revealing a bright smile:
"Because I like the look of you."
—
Late at night.
Rorschach lay in bed, eyes closed.
Raven was already asleep, her head resting on his arm, her breathing steady.
The system panel emerged:
[Detected (Male target: Scott Summers / Cyclops)]
[Ability assessment in progress...]
[Target ability: Ocular Energy Blast 2.2]
[System prompt: Blood contact is required to obtain the complete ability]
The corners of Rorschach's mouth curled up slightly.
"No rush," he said in his mind. "Let him adapt first."
He turned over and pulled Raven a bit closer.
Westchester was very quiet late at night.
The light in a room on the third floor of the X-Mansion was still on; Jean sat by the window, gazing at the moon.
She seemed to be waiting for something.
Under the moonlight, deep in her eyes, an imperceptible golden shimmer flashed and vanished.
Or perhaps she wasn't waiting for anything at all.