Chapter 106: Brotherhood Messenger
Rorschach sat in a wicker chair on the second-floor terrace of the X-Mansion, a cup of coffee in his hand, watching the colorful maple leaves on the hillside sway in the wind, with specks of dancing sunlight filtering through the gaps between the leaves.
In the distance, several dark figures chased each other on the lawn—Warren and John were roughhousing, while Scott stood by, occasionally adjusting his glasses.
"Bored out of their minds," Rorschach commented accurately.
He liked this kind of day.
No madmen like Shaw to kill, no nuclear bombs to stop, no one stabbing him in the back.
Drinking tea, training students, and sleeping with Raven at night—perfectly aligned with his core value of "survival first."
Unfortunately, such days were destined not to last.
"Rorschach!"
Hank's voice came from downstairs, slightly breathless and urgent.
Rorschach leaned over to look down.
Hank stood on the lawn, his blue furry face clearly screaming "something's happened."
He held a letter in his hand, the envelope stained with several dark red smudges.
"What is it?"
"See for yourself." Hank tossed the letter up.
Rorschach caught it with one hand and glanced at it.
The envelope was addressed to "Charles Xavier, X-Mansion," and signed with a metallic-looking letter "M," its edges appearing distorted by a Magnetic Field.
He tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter.
The letter was short, only three lines:
"Charles:
The Brotherhood is officially established.
If you want peace, come talk.
—Erik"
Rorschach finished reading and scoffed.
"Is Erik planning a press conference?"
Hank's expression was grim: "The messenger is still downstairs."
"Where is he?"
"We've detained him." Hank paused. "He... isn't quite normal."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
—
Five minutes later, he understood what Hank meant by "not normal."
In the X-Mansion's Underground Room, a scrawny man was tied to a chair.
He wore a tattered jacket, his face bruised, and he was still muttering, "...Magneto will come save me... You CIA dogs... When my boss gets here, he'll blast you all into iron slag..."
Rorschach leaned against the doorframe, scrutinizing him for three seconds.
Where did Erik dig up such a useless person?
He walked over, squatted in front of the messenger, and offered a friendly smile: "Hey."
The messenger glared at him: "You won't get anything out of my—"
"Alright, shut up." Rorschach interrupted him. "I just have one question—Erik sent you to deliver a letter, and you just walked openly to the X-Mansion gate?"
The messenger was stunned for a moment, a hint of confusion flashing across his face: "I... I wanted to fly straight in, but that blue furry monster caught me..."
"Fly?"
"I have wings!" the messenger declared righteously. "They're a bit small, but I can fly!"
Rorschach glanced at his back—he indeed had wings, but they looked more like two underdeveloped chicken wings, completely incapable of supporting human Flight.
"Alright," he stood up, dusting off his hands. "Hank, what should we do with this guy?"
Hank frowned: "Charles said to keep him locked up for now, and release him after he talks with Erik."
Rorschach nodded and turned to leave.
As he reached the door, he suddenly stopped and looked back.
The messenger was still cursing, and as he struggled, the wound on his wrist, chafed by the ropes, began to bleed again.
As Rorschach crouched to examine the wound, he "accidentally" wiped his finger over the bloodstain, simultaneously mocking, "Erik sent a rookie like you? Looks like the Brotherhood is short on people."
[Blood contact detected (male target: BrotherhoodMessenger)]
[Ability extracting...]
[Acquired: Strength Enhancement 0.5 (duplicate, already has Super Strength 2.1)]
[Duplicate ability converted to original points: +50]
[Current total points: 14450]
Rorschach withdrew his hand, looking at the "+50" on the system panel with a complicated expression.
Not only was it 0.5 level.
It was also a duplicate.
Erik, your eye for talent is terrible.
He patted the messenger's shoulder: "Stay put, I'll send you some food later."
The messenger was stunned by the pat, and by the time he recovered, Rorschach had already disappeared down the corridor.
"He, what did he just do?" the messenger stammered to Hank.
Hank pushed up his glasses, expressionless: "Helped you bandage your wound."
"...Bandage?"
"Yes." Hank turned to leave. "You'd better pray he was just bandaging."
The messenger looked down at the spot on his wrist where Rorschach had pressed; the bleeding had stopped, but something still felt off.
He couldn't quite place it.
—
That night, Rorschach lay in bed, holding Raven, staring at the ceiling.
Raven was already asleep, her blue skin glowing softly in the moonlight, her breathing as even as a cat's.
The system panel appeared in his mind.
[Detected combinable ability: Laser Eyes 2.1 + Ocular Energy Blast 2.2 → Energy Beam 2.3 (costs 1000 points)]
[Fuse now?]
Rorschach looked at the prompt, deep in thought.
Laser Eyes came from Black Robe World, and Ocular Energy Blast was acquired from Scott.
Both involved energy emission from the eyes; fusing them should create new possibilities.
"No rush," he mused. "Tomorrow."
He closed the panel, ready to sleep.
Suddenly, he felt something.
A faint ripple swept across the X-Mansion from a distance.
Very subtle, very concealed, like a dragonfly touching the Water.
But Rorschach caught it.
[Mental Control 2.1]
He closed his eyes, tracing the ripple backward—
Three seconds later, he opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.
"Truly seeking death."
Chapter 107: Surveillance and Warning
On a hillside five kilometers outside the X-Mansion, an off-road vehicle disguised as a civilian car was parked in the shadow of the trees.
Three people sat inside, all in plain clothes, but their posture and gaze revealed their identity—soldiers.
One of them held binoculars, staring in the direction of the X-Mansion's main building.
Another held a peculiar instrument, with several faint light dots flickering on its screen.
"Target confirmed," the person with the instrument whispered. "There are at least seventeen Mutant signals inside X-Mansion, three of which exceed Alpha level."
"Record it," the driver said. "The Colonel wants detailed data."
The person with the binoculars nodded, about to speak—
He suddenly froze.
Because in the rearview mirror outside the car window, a person had appeared at some point.
That person was wearing dark sportswear, hands in his pockets, smiling at them.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
Rorschach's voice came from outside the car window, lazy, as if greeting them.
The three people in the car froze simultaneously.
The next second—
As the person with the instrument's hand touched the gun at his waist, he felt a tightening around his neck, and he was pulled out of the car window.
The person with the binoculars reacted faster, already pushing open the car door—
Then he found he couldn't run.
It wasn't that his feet were caught; his entire body felt nailed in place, his limbs completely unresponsive.
[Mental Control—Limb Control]
The driver was the most decisive, pressing the accelerator to the floor, and the off-road vehicle roared forward—
It sped for ten meters, then slowly floated up.
The entire car was half a meter off the ground, as if lifted by an invisible giant hand, its four wheels spinning idly in the air.
The driver looked back in horror, seeing Rorschachstanding in the rearview mirror, one hand raised, fingers slightly spread.
[Magnetic Field Manipulation]
"Don't be in such a hurry to leave," Rorschach smiled. "It's late at night, and since you're already here, let's chat for a bit."
—
Three minutes later.
The three men knelt neatly before Rorschach, like three quails with their claws removed.
Rorschach squatted in front of them, holding the peculiar instrument, turning it over and over.
"Mutant Detector?" He raised an eyebrow. "Stryker has some ideas."
The three men remained silent.
"Not talking, huh?" Rorschach sighed. "Alright, I'll ask in a different way."
He looked at the person in the middle holding the instrument.
[Mental Control—Mind Reading]
In that instant, the man's eyes became vacant, as if his soul had been extracted.
Rorschach closed his eyes and "saw" a scene—
A heavily guarded underground Base, countless test tubes and instruments, and a face.
William Stryker's face.
He sat behind an office desk, a photo spread out before him—a panoramic view of the X-Mansion.
"Continue surveillance," Stryker's voice echoed in the vision. "I want to know the situation of every Mutant inside: their abilities, weaknesses, and activity patterns."
The vision disappeared.
Rorschach opened his eyes, looking at the three men before him, the smile on his face slowly fading.
"Do you know?" he said softly. "I actually have a pretty good temper."
The three men dared not make a sound.
"But there are two things I can't stand," Rorschach raised a finger. "First, plotting against me."
He raised a second finger: "Second, plotting against my woman."
He stood up and patted the dust off his knees.
"Stryker has done both."
He looked at the three men and suddenly smiled.
That smile looked a little chilling in the moonlight.
"Go back and tell your Colonel," he said. "Next time you send people, they won't be going back."
He waved his hand.
The three men, as if struck by something, rolled their eyes and simultaneously fainted.
—
When they woke up, it was already early the next morning.
The three men lay in the off-road vehicle, which was parked on the highway fifty kilometers away from the X-Mansion.
A note was stuck on the car window, with only one sentence:
"Next time, what's sent back will be corpses. —Rorschach"
The person with the instrument rubbed his aching neck, then suddenly realized his detector was gone.
He searched the entire car but found nothing.
What he didn't know was that at this moment, the detector was lying on Hank's workbench, disassembled into a pile of parts.
"This thing is quite interesting," Hank said, holding a chip, his eyes sparkling. "It can detect Mutant energy fluctuations with high precision."
Rorschach leaned against the doorframe, a blade of grass in his mouth: "Can you replicate it?"
Hank thought for a moment: "Give me a month."
"Too slow."
"Then there's no way, I haven't seen the core technology of this thing—"
Rorschach tossed him something.
Hank caught it, looked down, and saw it was a chip.
"I happened to grab an extra one earlier," Rorschach said lazily. "The original and a copy, that should be enough for your research, right?"
Hank's eyes widened as he looked at the two chips in his hand, then at Rorschach, his expression as complex as if he had eaten half a catty of coptis.
"You... when did you—"
"After they fainted." Rorschach turned and walked out. "Next time you steal something, remember to be quicker. You were so slow, I almost waited until you fell asleep."
Hank's mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word.
Rorschach had already disappeared down the corridor.
Only a sentence floated back:
"When you've figured it out, make one for me too."
—
Meanwhile, at a military Base in New York State.
Stryker stood in his office, his face grim as he looked at his three subordinates.
The three men hung their heads, not daring to breathe.
"So," Stryker began, his voice as calm as still water, "the three of you, with the most advanced equipment, were completely wiped out in front of one Mutant without any ability to fight back?"
The man in the middle braced himself and spoke: "Colonel, that person... he's not right. He's not an ordinary Mutant—"
"Of course I know he's not ordinary," Stryker interrupted him. "Otherwise, why would I send you?"
The man fell silent.
Stryker was silent for a few seconds, then walked to the window, looking at the night outside.
"Rorschach..." he murmured the name.
He had been watching this man since the Cuban Missile Crisis.
In the CIA's files, Rorschach was merely a Gamma-level Energy Manipulator.
But those three minutes of disappearance, that exploded submarine, and Shaw, whose body has yet to be found—all told Stryker that this man was not simple.
"Continue to observe," he said. "Change personnel, change methods, don't alert him."
"Yes!"
The three men retreated.
Stryker stood by the window, looking at his reflection in the glass.
He suddenly remembered something—the detector, it seemed he hadn't gotten it back.
He frowned.
Never mind, he could always make another one.
He turned and walked to his desk, taking out several documents from a drawer.
He scoffed as he flipped through Moira's "RorschachHarmlessness Report": "Agent MacTaggert's memory was truly wiped clean... too bad she doesn't know she's also a test subject."
Then he continued to look through a document with "Weapon X Program—Phase Two: Mutant Capture Plan" written on its cover.
His gaze fell on one of the pages.
A photo was attached to the top of that page.
The photo showed a man in civilian clothes, standing among a group of Mutants, smiling carefree.
Below the photo was a line of text:
"Rorschach, suspected Energy Manipulation Mutant, Ability Assessment: Gamma (to be re-evaluated)"
Stryker stared at the photo for a long time.
Finally, he closed the document and said softly:
"No matter who you are, one day, you will lie on my experimental table."
—
X-Mansion.
Rorschach, lying on the bed, suddenly sneezed.
"Got a cold?" Raven asked groggily.
"No." Rorschach rubbed his nose. "Someone must be cursing me."
Raven rolled over and buried her head in his arms: "Then curse them back..."
Rorschach chuckled, lowering his head to kiss her forehead.
Chapter 108: The Way of Stance and Energy Control
Early the next morning, Rorschach was awakened by a knock on the door.
"Rorschach! Get up!" Hank's voice came from outside the door. "Charles is calling a meeting!"
Rorschach opened his eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall—seven in the morning.
"Nutcase," he muttered. "What kind of meeting is this early..."
Raven was already awake, leaning against the headboard and watching him, a gloating smile on her blue face.
"Serves you right," she said. "Who told you to run out in the middle of the night to catch people?"
Rorschach rolled his eyes, pulled on his clothes, and pushed the door open.
Hank stood in the hallway, his blue fur a mess, holding a stack of documents.
"I spent all night dismantling the Detector Chip," Hanksaid, handing over a report while sporting dark circles under his eyes. "Military-grade encryption, but there's a loophole in the Reverse Tracking Module—Stryker likely already knows the equipment was hijacked."
"Charles is waiting for you in the study," he said. "Erik has sent a reply."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
—
Five minutes later, he was sitting in Charles's study, coffee in hand, listening to Charles speak.
"Erik wants to meet and talk," Charles said, sitting in his wheelchair with a slight frown. "He's asked to meet me in New York City next week, without anyone else."
"You trust him?" Rorschach asked.
Charles was silent for a few seconds. "I do. But I also don't."
"A perfect score in the art of saying nothing."
Charles gave a wry smile. "Erik isn't Shaw; he wouldn't set a trap to harm me. But he won't easily give up his stance either. This meeting is likely his last attempt to persuade me to join the Brotherhood."
Rorschach took a sip of coffee. "And then? If you don't join, he'll officially turn against you?"
"Pretty much."
Rorschach thought for a moment. "Then I'll go with you."
Charles looked at him with a complicated expression.
"Are you sure? Erik said not to bring anyone else—"
"He says don't bring anyone, so you don't?" Rorschachscoffed. "He also says he's going to rule the World, do you believe that?"
"Erik is extremely sensitive to changes in energy fields," Charles tapped his fingers on the wheelchair. "Especially metal and spatial disturbances... Can your method really hide from him?"
"Alright, it's settled then." Rorschach stood up. "I'll follow you while invisible; he won't sense a thing."
Charles watched his retreating back and suddenly spoke: "Rorschach."
"Hmm?"
"What do you... actually think of Erik?"
Rorschach thought about it and said seriously, "He's a good man, and he's also a madman. A good man because he truly wants to protect Mutants. A madman because he might think killing all humans will solve everything."
He paused and shrugged. "Coincidentally, I think just chopping off the claws that hold the knives is enough. Kill them all? Too inefficient."
Charles was stunned.
By the time he snapped out of it, Rorschach was gone.
He was the only one left in the study.
He looked at the sunlight outside the window and whispered, "Sometimes I really can't figure you out."
—
Afternoon, Combat Class.
Rorschach stood in the center of the Training Ground, with six students standing before him—Scott, Ororo, Warren, John, Lois, and Hedgehog.
Kitty didn't come today, saying she had a cold.
"What are we practicing today?" Warren was eager to try. "Are you going to torment us again?"
Rorschach glanced at him. "You want to be tormented that badly?"
Warren's expression changed. "No, no! I was just asking—"
"Fine, I'll grant your wish." Rorschach waved his hand. "All six of you come at me together. No holds barred. If you hit me even once, you get tomorrow off."
The six students looked at each other.
Scott adjusted his glasses. "Are you sure?"
"Cut the chatter. Start."
As soon as he finished speaking—
All six moved at once!
Scott's red Impact blasted straight ahead!
Ororo raised both hands, and a bolt of lightning struck down from the sky!
Warren took to the air, diving in from the side!
John opened his mouth, and a burst of fire surged out!
Lois hid in the back, aiming Acid at Rorschach's feet!
Hedgehog's quills stood on end as he rolled toward Rorschach like a shooting star—
A total onslaught from every angle!
Then—
Rorschach disappeared.
[Spatial Jump 2.1]
All six attacks missed, exploding into a cloud of sparks and thick smoke on the Training Ground.
"Too slow."
The voice came from overhead.
Everyone looked up.
Rorschach was suspended in mid-air, hands in his pockets, looking down at them with an expression like he was watching a group of children playing games.
"Scott, your eyelid twitches before you fire—a 0.3-second delay, enough for me to dodge ten times."
"Ororo, you need to raise your hands to summon lightning. Try doing it without raising them next time."
"Warren, you tuck your wings too tightly when diving; it makes your turns inflexible."
"John, you inhale before breathing fire. That habit needs to change."
"Lois, your Acid's range is only five meters. Don't stand so far back."
"Hedgehog... your rolling move is quite creative, but you rolled off course."
The six stood in place, their expressions quite a sight after hearing his critique.
Scott was expressionless, but his hands were shaking—from anger.
Warren looked like he had lost all hope in life.
Ororo was lost in thought.
John whispered, "How does he know everything..."
Rorschach landed and brushed the dust off his hands. "Alright, keep practicing. Scott, stay behind."
The five of them fled as if granted a grand reprieve.
Only Rorschach and Scott remained on the Training Ground.
Scott stood before him, a bit nervous. "What is it?"
Rorschach looked at him and suddenly said, "Take off your glasses."
Scott's pupils constricted. "Again?!"
"Yes."
"B-but—after the last time I took them off, my legs were weak for three days—"
"Not this time," Rorschach interrupted. "This time is different."
Scott took a deep breath and slowly removed his glasses.
Eyes closed.
"Open them."
Scott opened his eyes—
A red Impact shot out from his eyes!
But this time, he clearly felt something different.
Scott's Impact was no longer wild and out of control as before. Instead, it was like a beam he had "grasped," allowing him to control its direction, adjust its intensity, and even have it dissipate on its own after a certain distance!
Rorschach stood before him, raising a hand to catch the Impact—no, he was "cradling" it.
[Energy Domination 2.6]
The red energy stream gathered in Rorschach's palm, winding and flowing like an obedient snake before slowly dissipating.
Rorschach felt the warm energy stream in his palm and suddenly realized—it was resonating with the Ocular Energy (Scott 2.2) inside his own body.
"Felt it?" Rorschach asked.
Scott nodded, his eyes stinging.
It wasn't that he wanted to cry; it was a natural reaction to overusing his ability.
"Your control now is much stronger than it was a month ago," Rorschach said. "Do you know why?"
Scott thought for a moment. "Because you make me practice every day?"
"Wrong." Rorschach shook his head. "Because you're no longer afraid."
He looked into Scott's eyes and said with rare seriousness:
"Abilities are like that: the more you fear them, the more they spiral out of control. The more you obsess over them, the more disobedient they become. When the day comes that you forget you even have an ability, that's when you've truly mastered it."
Scott was stunned.
Rorschach patted his shoulder. "Alright, put your glasses on and go back to rest."
Scott silently put on his glasses and turned to leave.
At the entrance of the Training Ground, he suddenly turned back.
"Rorschach."
"Hmm?"
"What do you mean by 'forgetting you have an ability'?"
Rorschach thought for a moment and smiled. "It means that one day, when you open your eyes, your first thought won't be 'I have to control this,' but rather 'The weather is nice today'."
Scott stood there, thinking for a long time.
Then he nodded and left.
Chapter 109: The Silent Observer
Only Rorschach was left on the training ground.
He leaned against the wall, looking at the system panel.
[Detected combinable ability: Laser Eyes 2.1 + Ocular Energy Blast 2.2 → Energy Beam 2.3 (Cost: 1000 points)]
[Fuse?]
Rorschach looked at the prompt and thought for three seconds.
"Fuse."
[Fusion confirmed, 1000 points consumed]
Rorschach closed his eyes, feeling the fluctuations in Scott's energy, as if touching the fundamental structure of the Laser Eyes ability.
"So that's how it is..." He opened his eyes, and the system prompt appeared at the opportune moment.
[Acquired: Energy Beam 2.3]
[Current total points: 13450]
At that moment, he felt the warm power in his eye sockets change.
Before, two different energies flowed separately; now, they merged like two rivers into one lake, forming an entirely new existence.
He closed his eyes, trying to harness that power—
Then opened his eyes.
There was no red Impact, nor the white light of Laser Eyes.
Instead, a pale golden beam of light shot out from his eyes, landing precisely on the target in the training ground.
The target didn't explode or burn; a finger-sized circular hole appeared in its center, with edges as smooth as if cut by a laser.
[Energy Beam 2.3 Trait: Adjustable output modes—Penetration/Diffusion/Oscillation]
A smile played on Rorschach's lips.
"Interesting."
——
In the evening, he wandered into Hank's laboratory.
Hank was engrossed in studying the detector he'd snatched from Stryker's subordinate, his table covered with disassembled parts.
"How's the research going?"
Hank looked up, his blue-furred face sporting two large dark circles under his eyes: "This thing is more complex than I imagined. The core chip inside uses a material I've never seen before; it might be the Military's latest technology."
"Can you crack it?"
"Yes, but it'll take time." Hank rubbed his eyes, "Give me two weeks, and I can probably replicate a simplified version."
Rorschach nodded and sat opposite him.
"Hank."
"Hmm?"
"A question for you."
Hank put down the parts and looked at him: "What question?"
Rorschach thought for a moment, then said: "If one day, your abilities became incredibly powerful—so powerful you could punch through a mountain, or know what others were thinking with just a thought—how would you use them?"
Hank was stunned.
He hadn't expected Rorschach to ask that.
He thought for a long time, then finally said: "I... I'd probably use them to protect the Academy."
"That's it?"
"That's it." Hank nodded, "I've never thought about using my abilities to conquer anything. Charles said, 'With great power comes great responsibility,' not 'great power comes great authority.'"
Rorschach was silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled and patted Hank's shoulder.
"No wonder you're a good person."
Hank was puzzled by the pat: "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Rorschach stood up and walked out, "Just asking. You continue your research, tell me when you've figured it out."
He pushed the door open and left.
Rorschach glimpsed the Cerebra Brainwave Amplifierscreen in the corner of the lab bench flashing by—the light dot for the Egypt coordinates was still dim.
Hank sat there, watching his retreating figure, feeling that something was off about Rorschach tonight.
But he couldn't pinpoint what.
——
Rorschach walked down the corridor, moonlight streaming through the windows, paving a silvery path on the floor.
He looked at his hand.
In his palm, the ring he had taken from Shaw glowed faintly in the moonlight.
The system panel appeared in his mind.
[Current Core Ability System:]
[Energy Control 2.6] (Energy Manipulation 2.4 + Energy Absorption 2.5)
[Mental Control 2.1] (Telepathy 2.1 + Mind Control 2.0)
[Magnetic Field Manipulation 2.1] (from Magneto)
[Spatial Jump 2.1] (from Azazel)
[Diamond Form 2.1] (from White Queen)
[Energy Beam 2.3] (Laser Eyes 2.1 + Ocular Energy Blast 2.2)
[Super Defense 2.4] (Black Robe World core ability)
[Super Strength 2.1] (Black Robe World core ability)
[Super Speed 2.2] (Black Robe World basic + enhanced)
[Flight 2.2] (after integrating Poison Feather Control)
[Vitality Enhancement 2.2] (after integrating Adaptive Evolution 1.0)
[Shapeshifting 2.3] (from Raven, upgraded through multiple intimate contacts)
[Ice Manipulation 2.0] (from Iceman Bobby)
[...]
He looked at the long list of abilities and suddenly smiled.
Two years ago, he was just a small character in Black Robe World, constantly figuring out how to survive Homelander.
And now?
He had killed Shaw, confronted Magneto, Mystique had become his girlfriend, and he had gathered a bunch of subordinates.
"System," he said in his mind, "Am I strong now?"
[System cannot answer the definition of "strong"]
[Current combat power assessment: Can directly contend with targets below level 2.8, win rate against targets above level 3.0 is less than 30%]
Rorschach chuckled.
"Alright, I'll take your word for it."
He closed the panel and continued walking.
At the end of the corridor, his room door was slightly ajar, and warm yellow light seeped out.
Raven was waiting for him.
He pushed the door open and walked in.
——
Meanwhile, in a room on the third floor of the Academy.
Jean Grey sat by the window, gazing at the night and contemplating something.
She suddenly turned her head, looking towards the back mountain of the Academy.
There, in the moonlit woods, stood a person.
That person wore a black trench coat, looking from afar at the main building of the Academy.
Jean frowned slightly.
She tried to sense that person with Telepathy—
Then she froze.
Because that person had no thoughts.
Not a shield, not resistance, but true "blankness."
Like a moving shell.
Three seconds later, that person vanished.
As silently as they had appeared.
Jean sat by the window, looking at the empty woods, a vague sense of unease rising in her heart.
She didn't know who that person was.
But she knew it was definitely not an ordinary person.
Chapter 110: The Rift: From Best Friends to Enemies
Charles turned his wheelchair towards the suit jacket on the hanger: "Erik's appointed time is almost here."
The study door was abruptly pushed open. Jean stood at the doorway, clutching a crumpled curtain, her breathing ragged: "A figure appeared last night—he, like an empty shell..."
Charles spun his wheelchair: "What a tumultuous time."
Rorschach pressed Jean's trembling wrist (Mental Controlpassively triggered), sensing fragments of her memory: a black-robed figure standing on a cliff edge under the moonlight, metallic glowing patterns writhing beneath its skin.
"No heartbeat," Jean's pupils glinted golden: "Inside it... there's no soul, only metal and electricity."
Rorschach released Jean's wrist: "It seems we need to have Hank make a detector first."
After comforting Jean, he found Hank and shared his idea, asking him to devise a way to create a surveillance device to guard the surroundings.
Then, he set off with Charles.
---
New York City.
Rorschach sat by the window in a coffee shop, holding a cup of coffee, watching the bustling traffic outside.
He wore a casual suit and plain glasses, looking like an idle rich second generation.
No one noticed his eyes occasionally scanning the old apartment building across the street.
On the third floor of the apartment building, in a certain room, Charles and Erik sat face to face.
Rorschach's Mental Control maintained a faint perception, allowing him to sense the situation inside, but not deeply—too deep and Erik would notice.
Inside the room, the atmosphere was a bit tense.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, looking at the man in the dark red uniform opposite him, his eyes complex.
Erik also looked at him.
The two remained silent for a long time.
Finally, Erik spoke first: "Charles, you're still the same."
"You too," Charles said, "That uniform... it's quite conspicuous."
Erik glanced down at his clothes, his lips twitched, a semblance of a smile.
"If I don't dress like this, how will people know who I am?"
Charles didn't respond.
Erik looked at him, his gaze falling on his legs.
"Your legs... I'm sorry about what happened in Cuba."
Charles shook his head: "No need to apologize, that wasn't your fault."
"It was my fault," Erik's voice deepened, "If I hadn't lost control, Moira wouldn't have shot. If I hadn't deflected that bullet, it wouldn't have hit you."
Charles was silent for a few seconds.
"Erik, I didn't come here today to hear your apology."
"I know." Erik stood up and walked to the window, his back to him, "You want to persuade me to give up the Brotherhood, to abandon those 'radical' ideas, and join you in 'peaceful coexistence'."
Charles didn't speak.
Erik turned to look at him: "Charles, let me ask you—in this past year, how many students has your Academy taken in?"
Charles thought for a moment: "Seventeen."
"Seventeen." Erik repeated, his voice laced with mockery, "How many Mutants are there in the U.S.? Do you know?"
Charles was silent.
"At least thirty thousand," Erik said, "Of those thirty thousand, how many have been abandoned by their families, ostracized by society, hunted as monsters? Do you know?"
"I know." Charles's voice was calm, "That's why I built that Academy."
"Can one Academy hold thirty thousand people?"
"No."
"Then what do you hope for?"
Charles looked at him, his gaze as firm as a stone.
"What I hope for is that one day, these thirty thousand people won't need to hide in any academy. They can walk openly on the streets, without fear of being pointed at, without fear of being captured for experiments, without fear of being burned alive as monsters."
Erik stared at him for a long time.
Then he laughed.
There was no warmth in that smile, only weariness and mockery.
"Charles, you're still so naive."
"I am naive." Charles said, "But you're not."
Erik raised an eyebrow.
Charles pushed his wheelchair, slowly approaching him.
"If you were truly completely despairing of humanity, you wouldn't have arranged to meet me today, you wouldn't be trying to convince me to join you."
Charles looked at him, "You still have a glimmer of hope in your heart, hoping I can prove you wrong."
Erik's expression froze for a moment.
"But do you know?" Charles continued, "If you truly want Mutants to survive, violence isn't the only answer. It's not even the right answer."
"Then what is right?" Erik's voice suddenly rose, "Wait for them to realize it themselves? Wait for their conscience to awaken? Wait for them—wait for them to send us one by one into the crematorium, just like they did to my mother back then?!"
His eyes were red.
Charles looked at him, his eyes also a little sore.
"Erik..."
"Enough." Erik turned around, his back to him, "Let's leave it at that today."
Charles was silent.
Erik walked to the door, then suddenly stopped.
"Charles."
"Hmm?"
"Next time we meet, we should be enemies."
Charles looked at his retreating back and said softly: "You will always be a friend."
Erik's back paused for a moment.
Then he pushed the door open and left.
In the coffee shop across the street, Rorschach put down his coffee cup and stood up.
He walked to the door, just as Erik, coming down from upstairs, met his gaze.
Erik saw him, paused, then frowned.
"You're following him?"
"Protecting him." Rorschach corrected.
Erik stared at him for three seconds.
He had sensed before that this person had an uncomfortable aura about him—not just hostility, but something deeper.
Erik looked him up and down, "Rorschach, you are very special."
Rorschach smiled: "Quite special. Especially handsome."
Erik didn't smile.
He suddenly raised his hand—
Rorschach felt a powerful Magnetic Field fluctuation spread from Erik!
Magnetic Field Manipulation vs. Magnetic Field Manipulation
In that instant, the air between them twisted.
Erik's Magnetic Field Manipulation 2.5 pressed down on Rorschach like a giant wave; he was forced to activate Energy Domination 2.6 to resist the feeling of suffocation.
Pedestrians on the street were unaware, but Rorschachcould feel all the metal objects on his body—belt buckle, shoelace eyelets, even the zipper on his clothes—vibrating violently, as if about to be forcibly pulled away!
He stood his ground, unmoving.
His Magnetic Field and Erik's Magnetic Field collided in mid-air, like two invisible giant hands wrestling.
The fire hydrant on the street corner suddenly let out a piercing metallic screech, and several cracks appeared on its surface.
Cars on the roadside began to shake, and their alarms shrieked.
Pedestrians finally noticed something was wrong and stopped, looking around.
Three seconds later.
Erik retracted his hand.
He looked at Rorschach, his eyes changed.
"You also have Magnetic Field Manipulation?"
"A little." Rorschach said modestly, "Not as good as yours."
Erik stared at him, as if trying to see through his soul.
"Who exactly are you?"
Rorschach thought for a moment, then said seriously: "Just a passerby."
Erik fell silent.
He suddenly smiled—this time it was a real smile, though very faint.
Then he walked past Rorschach and continued out.
"Erik." Rorschach suddenly called out to him.
Erik turned back.
Rorschach looked at him, and said with rare seriousness: "I don't know how much of what Charles just said you took in. But there's one thing I have to say—if one day, you really try to move against the X-Mansion, I will stop you."
Erik raised an eyebrow: "You?"
"Me."
The two stared at each other for three seconds.
Erik said nothing more, turned, and disappeared into the crowd at the street corner.
Chapter 111: Undercurrents Surging: The Birth of the Brotherhood
Rorschach stood still, watching the direction he disappeared in, lost in thought.
The system panel suddenly popped up.
[Detected close contact with Magneto]
[Magnetic Field Manipulation 2.1 vs 2.5 — Homologous ability sensing complete]
[Recommendation: Obtain Magneto's blood in the future to upgrade Magnetic Field Manipulation to 2.5+]
Rorschach looked at the text, a smile playing on his lips.
"No rush," he thought to himself. "We'll meet this guy again, sooner or later."
He turned and walked towards the apartment building.
Charles was still inside alone.
---
On the way back, in the pine forest ten kilometers from the X-Mansion, Rorschach suddenly slammed on the brakes.
"What's wrong?" Before Charles could finish speaking, Rorschach had already flashed into the distant woods—
Two soldiers in optical camouflage were dismantling equipment, and the military communicator next to them flashed red.
Rorschach used Ice Manipulation to freeze the soldiers' limbs, destroyed the equipment, and warned:
"Go back and tell Stryker—next time I'll shove the detector down his throat."
Then he sneered at the miniature camera: "Stryker, this is the second time..."
"Finished cleaning up." Rorschach flashed back into the car and tossed the equipment labeled "Weapon X" aside.
He turned to look at Charles and nodded.
He thought to himself: It's not good to go on a killing spree in front of Charles. Next time, next time these people won't be let off so easily.
Charles hesitated, wanting to speak, but ultimately said nothing.
---
Evening, X-Mansion.
Rorschach leaned against the railing of the second-floor terrace, looking at the highway at the foot of the mountain.
That road led to New York, to the outside World.
Raven walked up from behind and leaned on his shoulder.
"I heard you had a run-in with Erik today?"
"Not a run-in, just said hello."
Raven rolled her eyes: "Said hello so hard that even the fire hydrant cracked?"
Rorschach chuckled: "You're quite well-informed."
"Charles told me." Raven paused. "He said all the metal tools around you two floated when you confronted each other."
"That was Erik, not me."
"You can also manipulate Magnetic Fields, don't think I don't know."
Rorschach didn't deny it.
Raven was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Rorschach."
"Hmm?"
"If one day Erik really comes to attack the X-Mansion, what will you do?"
Rorschach thought for a moment, looking at the night sky in the distance.
"Stop him."
"What if you can't stop him?"
"Then fight."
Raven looked up at him, the moonlight reflected in her blue eyes.
"Can you beat him?"
Rorschach looked down at her and smiled.
"Even if I can't, I have to fight. You're here, Charles is here, Kitty, Scott, Hank... everyone's here."
He paused, his voice softening:
"I don't have grand ideals. But there's one thing—I'm protective."
Raven froze.
Then she smiled and buried her head in his embrace.
"Then you must live well," she mumbled. "Protect me for a long time."
Rorschach hugged her tightly.
"Alright."
The X-Mansion was peaceful under the night sky.
The lights in the main building gradually went out.
In a room on the third floor, Jean sat by the window, gazing at the moon.
Deep in her eyes, a flicker of golden light flashed and disappeared.
——
Meanwhile, in a secret Base somewhere in New York.
Erik stood in a huge metal hall, with several people in front of him.
A muscular man with a fierce face and Beast-like eyes—Sabretooth.
A man resembling a Toad, squatting on the ground, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick his eyes—Toad.
A woman covered in sharp spikes, with a gloomy expression.
Erik scanned the group and spoke:
"From today onwards, the Brotherhood of Mutants is officially established."
He paused, his voice deepening:
"Our goal is not to rule humanity. It is to ensure that humanity never dares to persecute Mutants again."
Sabretooth grinned, revealing his sharp fangs.
Toad licked his eyes, letting out a hoarse laugh.
The Spiked Woman remained expressionless, but a flicker of light passed through her eyes.
Erik turned and looked at a flag hanging on the wall—a black background, a red 'M' symbol, its edges seemingly distorted by a Magnetic Field.
He said softly:
"Charles, I'm sorry."
"Next time we meet, I won't hold back."
——
X-Mansion.
Rorschach lay in bed, suddenly opening his eyes.
He glanced out the window.
The moon was full, the stars were bright.
The wind carried the unique coolness of autumn.
He summoned the system panel.
[Current total points: 13450]
[Next stage suggestion: Closely monitor the Brotherhood's movements, be wary of Stryker's laboratory]
[Optional upgrade: Energy Domination 2.6→2.7 (costs 5000 points)]
Rorschach looked at the two prompts, thought for a moment, and chose not to operate for now.
No rush.
What's meant to come will come.
We'll see then.
He rolled over and hugged Raven.
The moonlight outside the window slowly shifted, falling on their intertwined hands.
Chapter 112: The Seeds of the Sentinel, Farewell and Drawing the Blade
Autumn had arrived in Westchester.
The maple leaves on the hillside were as red as if they were on fire, fluttering down with every gust of wind.
Rorschach sat on the second-floor terrace of the academy, holding a cup of coffee and staring blankly at the falling leaves.
He liked days like this.
No lunatics like Shaw to kill, no nuclear bombs to stop, and no one stabbing him in the back.
But unfortunately—
"If I could live like this forever, I'd freaking change my name to Luo 'Quiet Years' Xia."
He finished the last sip of coffee and was about to head to the training grounds to mess with the students when Hank's voice came from downstairs.
"Rorschach! Charles is calling for you!"
Rorschach leaned over the railing. Hank was standing on the lawn, his blue furry face practically screaming the words'something's up'.
"What is it?"
"Moira is here."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
—
In the living room, the atmosphere was a bit subtle.
Moira MacTaggert sat on the sofa, her back straight as a board, holding a cup of tea but not drinking it.
Her eyes scanned the living room as if she were evaluating something.
Charles sat in his wheelchair with a calm expression, but Rorschach could tell—he was hurting inside.
Rorschach strolled in lazily, sat across from Moira, and crossed his legs.
"Agent Moira, here to investigate me again? Did you bring a search warrant this time?"
Moira glanced at him, didn't respond, and turned back to Charles.
"Charles, the reason I'm here..."
She paused and took a deep breath.
"...is to say goodbye."
Charles's expression stiffened slightly.
Moira continued, "Headquarters has established the 'Bureau of Mutant Affairs' specifically to handle matters related to you. I've been reassigned. From now on... I can't have any more contact with you."
As she spoke, she took a document out of her bag and placed it on the coffee table.
"This is the final investigation report. Colonel Stryker's side has officially taken over all Mutant files. They... aren't very friendly toward you."
Rorschach glanced at the document but said nothing.
Charles was silent for a few seconds before saying softly, "Moira, thank you... for all these years."
Moira's eyes reddened slightly, but she quickly regained her professional composure.
"Charles, I only did what I had to do."
She stood up, preparing to leave.
At the door, she suddenly turned back and looked at Rorschach.
"Mr. Rorschach, regardless of who you are... I hope you are truly worthy of Charles's trust."
Rorschach waved a hand at her.
"Don't worry, my greatest virtue is—being trustworthy. Especially when I'm killing someone."
Moira was stunned for a moment, not quite understanding him, but she left anyway.
The door closed.
The living room fell silent.
Charles sat in his wheelchair, staring at the door for a long time without speaking.
Rorschach didn't speak either, just leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.
After a long while, Charles spoke.
"Rorschach, do you think... I should make her forget us?"
Rorschach turned to look at him.
Charles's gaze fell on his paralyzed legs, his voice low.
"She's an ordinary person. If she continues to be associated with us, Stryker won't let her go. The Bureau of Mutant Affairs won't let her go. Even... Erik won't let her go."
Rorschach thought for a moment and said seriously, "Charles, you know me, I've always advocated for'striking whoever reaches out'. But in this matter... I think you should ask her what she wants."
Charles gave a bitter smile.
"She wouldn't agree. Moira is very stubborn."
"Then why are you even asking?"
Charles fell silent.
Rorschach stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the fiery red maple leaves outside.
"Charles, I've seen many people. Some are dead, some are alive, and some... are more miserable alive than dead. Do you know what these people regret most?"
Charles looked at him.
Rorschach said, "What they regret most isn't what they did, but what they didn't have time to do."
Charles was taken aback.
Rorschach turned around, leaning against the window frame with his signature lazy smile.
"Of course, this is just my personal opinion as a passerby. You decide for yourself. But if you ask me, sometimes forgetting is happier than remembering—especially remembering a dangerous person like me."
Charles looked at him for a long time.
Finally, he nodded.
—
That night, Charles asked Moira to meet him on the small hillside behind the academy.
The moonlight was beautiful, and the breeze was light.
Moira stood before him, looking into his eyes, seemingly sensing something.
"Charles... what are you going to do?"
Charles reached out and gently took her hand.
"Moira, thank you."
Moira's eyes reddened again.
Then, Charles closed his eyes.
A soft wave of Psychic Power spread from him, gently enveloping Moira.
Moira's gaze gradually became dazed, then hollow, and then... it regained its clarity.
She blinked and looked at Charles in front of her, her expression a bit confused.
"Sir... do we know each other?"
Charles smiled and let go of her hand.
"No. I was just passing by and saw you standing here alone, worried you might be lost."
Moira frowned, seemingly trying hard to remember something, but she couldn't recall anything.
She shook her head, gave Charles a polite nod, and turned to leave.
After a few steps, she suddenly stopped and glanced back.
Under the moonlight, the man in the wheelchair waved at her with a gentle smile.
Moira felt a strange pang in her heart, but she didn't know why.
She continued walking and soon disappeared into the night.
Charles sat where he was, quietly watching her retreating figure.
—
In the distance, Rorschach leaned against a tree, chewing on a blade of grass as he watched the scene.
[System Notification: Moira MacTaggert's memory wipe complete]
[Current Total points: 13,450]
Rorschach looked at the system panel and closed it.
He sighed softly.
He turned and left.
—
The next day, Rorschach wandered down to the Underground Room to find Hank.
Hank was hunched over the console, staring at the Cerebra screen, his blue furry face full of 'discovering a new world' excitement.
"Rorschach! You're just in time! Come look at this!"
Rorschach leaned in and glanced at the screen.
The screen was filled with a mess of data, looking like intercepted communication records.
"What's this?"
"When I was scanning for global Mutant signals with Cerebra last night, I happened to intercept an encrypted transmission," Hank pushed up his glasses, "From the Military."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
"What's the Military saying?"
Hank played the audio from the transmission.
A low voice came through the speakers:
"...The Sentinel Program requires more Mutant DNA samples, especially high-level ones. Dr. Bolivar Trask has already submitted the proposal for the second-generation prototype, estimated to be ready for combat within three years..."
Rorschach's expression froze instantly.
Sentinel?
Trask?
His mind began to race frantically.
In the movies, the Sentinels were the root cause of Mutantextinction.
And the source of it all was that short scientist named Bolivar Trask.
[System Notification: 'Sentinel Program' detected]
[Historical Information Link: Bolivar Trask—Creator of the Sentinel robots, one of the sources of the Mutant extinction event]
Rorschach narrowed his eyes.
"This can't wait."
Seeing his expression change, Hank asked, "What's wrong? What are Sentinels?"
Rorschach took a deep breath, returning to his lazy demeanor.
"Nothing, just think this plan isn't simple."
Hank rolled his eyes.
"Can you be serious for once?"
"No."
Rorschach patted Hank on the shoulder.
"Keep that transmission, don't delete it. It might be useful later."
He turned and left.
In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
The system panel appeared in his mind.
[Current points: 13,450]
[Recommended Action: Monitor closely, eliminate in advance if necessary]
Scenes from Black Robe World flashed through his mind—the enemies he had waited for, the crises that had nearly cost him his life.
Homelander, Soldier Boy, Stormfront... which one of them hadn't died only after he finally made a move?
But waiting meant risk, meant being passive, meant that people might die because of it.
"Survival first, but survival isn't about passive waiting."
He opened his eyes, his gaze becoming sharp as a blade.
"With Shaw, I waited until his energy overloaded to strike because I couldn't beat him back then. But Stryker? An ordinary human, thinking he can commit genocide just because he has a few soldiers? I could crush a guy like that with one finger, so why wait for him to come looking for me?"
He remembered the warmth of Raven leaning on his shoulder, the trust in Scott's voice when he called him 'Mentor', and the look in Kitty's eyes when she cried and said 'Thank you'.
"To protect your own, you have to be proactive. Chop off the claws that reach out, and chop off the ones that haven't reached out yet too."
A cold smirk curled onto his lips.
"Trask, Stryker—both of them have to die. I'm not waiting for them to move; I'll move first."
He pushed open the door and stepped into the sunlight.
Outside, the maple leaves were still as red as fire.
But Rorschach knew that for some people, it was time to go.
—
He glanced down at the red string on his wrist.
"Once I've handled things here, I'll head back for a visit."
The red string glowed faintly in the sunlight.
Chapter 113: Secret Base
Three days later.
Rorschach sat on a rattan chair on the second-floor terrace of the X-Mansion, holding a cup of coffee and watching the maple leaves on the hillside sway in the wind.
In the distance, a few black dots were chasing each other on the lawn—Warren and John were fooling around, while Scott stood by watching, occasionally adjusting his glasses.
"Bored out of his mind," Rorschach commented precisely.
He was just about to finish his coffee and head to the training grounds when his communicator vibrated.
This was the dedicated channel left for him by Tom.
Tom—the Light Energy youth he had saved on his first day of crossing over—was now an official CIA Agent and Rorschach's mole planted deep within the government.
Rorschach took out the communicator and glanced at the message.
["Stryker has established a secret Base in Florida, codenamed 'Eden,' for large-scale collection of MutantDNA. Address sent to you."]
Rorschach narrowed his eyes.
Stryker.
He was too familiar with that name.
Weapon X Program.
Mutant experiments.
The birth of Wolverine.
And the words from that memo: [X-Mansion instructor 'Rorschach,' recommended for observation on the 'High-Risk Target' list.]
"Collecting DNA? This is the prelude to genocide," Rorschach sneered, placing the coffee cup down on the table.
"Fine, I'll send you a gift first."
— —
Florida, a certain hidden Base.
The night was dark and the wind was high.
Rorschach stood on a small hill three kilometers away, looking at the brightly lit complex in the distance.
Barbed wire.
Searchlights.
Patrols.
Watchtowers.
Standard military Base configuration.
He stretched his neck.
"Spatial Leap 2.1."
The next second, he appeared inside the Base.
The corridor was deserted, only the fluorescent lights overhead emitted a buzzing electrical sound.
The walls were painted a pale white, the floor was covered with gray rubber matting, and the air was filled with a bizarre mixture of disinfectant and the smell of blood.
Rorschach walked further down the corridor.
As he passed a door, he stopped.
A sign was posted on the door: [Gene Sample Storage Room].
He pushed the door open.
The room was filled with rows of metal shelves, covered densely with test tube racks, holding countless test tubes, each labeled.
He casually picked one up.
[Sample ID: X-023]
[Ability Type: Regeneration Enhancement]
[Source: Unknown Male Mutant, Canadian residency].
Rorschach put down the test tube and picked up another.
[Sample ID: X-047]
[Ability Type: Bone Reinforcement]
[Source: Unknown Male Mutant, approximately 30 years old, capture location: Rocky Mountains].
He picked up another one.
[Sample ID: X-112]
[Ability Type: Ocular Energy Blast]
[Source: Suspected connection to X-Mansion, pending verification].
Rorschach paused his movements.
He looked down at the test tube; there was a line of small text on the label:
[Note: Target approximately 17 years old, red quartz glasses, priority capture recommended].
"Scott..." he murmured the name softly.
He placed the test tube back on the shelf.
Then he turned and left.
Continuing forward.
At the end of the corridor was a heavy metal door.
A sign hung on the door: [Main Experiment Area—Entry Prohibited Without Authorization].
Rorschach pushed the door open.
The scene inside made him stop in his tracks.
It was a huge circular hall, at least as large as three basketball courts.
In the center of the hall were more than a dozen massive glass containers, and inside each container floated a human-shaped object.
He approached one container.
Inside was a boy in his teens, eyes closed, covered in tubes, his skin as pale as wax.
A label was affixed to the bottom of the container: [Test Subject #7—Ability: Air Manipulation—Status: Dormant].
He walked toward another container.
Inside was a girl, who looked even younger, her hair floating in the water like some kind of deep-sea creature.
The label read: [Test Subject #12—Ability: Fire Manipulation—Status: Stable].
The third container.
The fourth.
The fifth.
Every container held a Mutant.
Every one of them was alive.
Rorschach stood in the center of the hall, looking at the floating bodies around him, silent for a long time.
Then he smiled.
The smile looked a bit eerie under the pale lighting.
"Colonel Stryker," he said softly, "you're really looking to die."
He raised his hand.
"Magnetic Field Manipulation 2.1."
All the metal containers simultaneously emitted a harsh creaking sound—and then exploded at the same time!
Glass shards scattered everywhere, liquid poured out, and the Mutants who had been submerged fell onto the ground, beginning to cough violently, vomit, and gasp for air.
The alarm sounded.
Red lights flashed.
Urgent shouts came from the loudspeaker: "Intruder! Intruder in the experiment zone! Everyone on high alert!"
Rorschach stood still, not moving.
He looked at the newly awakened Mutants, his voice not loud, but everyone could hear it clearly:
"If you can move, crawl toward the door. If you can run, run outside. There is a forest outside; hide in the woods and don't come out until dawn."
The Mutants stared at him blankly.
Rorschach raised his voice: "What are you waiting for? For me to invite you to a late-night snack?"
The first Mutant moved.
Then the second.
The third.
They supported each other, staggering as they ran out.
Rorschach turned and walked toward the depths of the corridor.
A squad of fully armed soldiers rushed toward him, submachine guns aimed at him—
"Stop! Hands on your head!"
Rorschach did not stop.
"Fire!"
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—
Bullets poured out like a torrential rain.
The next second, all the bullets stopped in mid-air.
Not stopped, suspended.
A dense wall of warheads hovered one meter in front of Rorschach, like a wall made of metal.
The soldiers' eyes widened.
Rorschach raised his hand and lightly clenched his five fingers.
Those warheads instantly flew backward—
Pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft, pfft—
The soldiers fell down as if they were being harvested like wheat.
Rorschach stepped over their bodies and continued walking forward.
Chapter 114: Bloodbath
Five minutes later.
Deep inside the Base, the Core Laboratory.
Rorschach pushed open the door.
Inside was only a middle-aged man in a white coat, balding and wearing glasses, holding a folder and looking at some data.
He heard the door open and looked up.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice so calm it didn't seem like he was facing the person who had just slaughtered their way through the entire Base.
Rorschach didn't answer, walked over, and sat down opposite him.
"Bolivar Trask?" he asked.
The balding man paused for a moment, then shook his head.
"No, I'm just the person in charge here. Dr. Trask is not here."
Rorschach raised an eyebrow.
"Then where is he?"
The man smiled, a hint of mockery in his expression.
"You won't find him. This isn't his only laboratory."
Rorschach nodded.
"Fine, then let me rephrase—how far along is your Sentinel Program?"
The man's expression stiffened slightly.
"How do you know..."
"Don't worry about how I know," Rorschach interrupted him. "Answer my question."
The man was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.
"Just kill me. I won't say a word."
Rorschach looked at him and also smiled.
"You're quite interesting."
He stood up and walked over to the man.
"But you might have misunderstood one thing—"
[Mental Control] activated.
The man's eyes instantly went vacant.
Rorschach closed his eyes and quickly flipped through his memories.
Laboratories.
Test tubes.
Operating tables.
Screams.
Crying.
Cold instruments.
Mutant organs soaked in formalin.
And—
A document.
Sentinel Program: Phase One Results Report
Developer: Bolivar Trask
Demonstration Date: November 1963, The Pentagon
Demonstration Results: First-generation Sentinelprototype successfully tracked and killed three D-class Mutants; Military high command expressed satisfaction.
Partner: Colonel William Stryker, responsible for providing Mutant DNA samples.
Rorschach opened his eyes.
He let go, and the man slumped to the floor like a pile of mud.
"Thanks for the cooperation," Rorschach said.
He turned and walked to the laboratory bench.
Countless test tubes, data hard drives, and research notes were laid out on the table.
He raised his hand.
[Energy Domination 2.6—Release]
Golden energy surged from his palm, swallowing everything.
Test tubes melted, hard drives exploded, and notes burned.
The entire Core Laboratory was reduced to ashes in the energy storm.
The man in charge was still slumped on the ground, his eyes vacant—he remained there, turning to ash along with the sinful data he had created.
Rorschach walked out of the laboratory.
Behind him, Fire consumed the entire Base.
The flames soared into the sky, illuminating the Floridanight.
—
Three hours later.
Rorschach sent the Mutants from the Base to a nearby city, told them to go home and hide, and then returned to the X-Mansion.
Hank was still hunched over the console studying the communication records; hearing the door open, he looked up at him.
"Where... where did you go in the middle of the night?"
Rorschach walked over and threw something to him.
Hank caught it and looked down—it was a charred metal fragment, on which a line of words was faintly discernible: Trask Industries · Sentinel Program · Core Chip.
His eyes widened.
"You—you went to Florida?!"
Rorschach leaned against the wall, an unlit cigar in his mouth, and said lazily:
"It was on the way."
"On the way?! Florida is over a thousand kilometers from here!"
"If I say it's on the way, it's on the way."
Hank's mouth dropped open, unable to say a single word.
Rorschach patted his shoulder.
"I released those imprisoned Mutants. A few are injured and might head this way. Keep an eye out."
Hank nodded blankly.
Rorschach walked to the door and suddenly stopped.
"By the way, if Charles asks—"
"What will you say?"
Rorschach thought for a moment and said seriously:
"Just say I went out to buy cigarettes and got lost."
The door closed.
Hank stood there, looking at the charred metal fragment in his hand, speechless for a long time.
—
Meanwhile, in front of the ruins of the Florida Base.
The sky was just beginning to brighten.
A Military jeep stopped outside the cordon, and a middle-aged man in uniform stepped out, looking grimly at the still-smoking ruins.
William Stryker.
He walked to the edge of the ruins, crouched down, and picked up a charred metal fragment.
A few words were faintly discernible on it: [...Subject#...]
He clenched the fragment in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
"Colonel..." an adjutant approached cautiously, "Preliminary assessment is that it was done by Mutants. Judging by the residual energy fluctuations at the scene, there are at least three different ability traces..."
Stryker didn't speak.
He looked at the ruins, a face appearing in his mind.
A face he had seen countless times in the files.
[X-Mansion External Mentor—Rorschach]
During the Cuban Missile Crisis, he disappeared for three minutes.
When Shaw's submarine exploded, he returned unscathed.
Now, his Base had also been taken out, and related intelligence was likely leaked.
Stryker stood up and threw the fragment on the ground.
"Rorschach... is this supposed to be a warning..." he whispered the name softly.
The adjutant asked, "Colonel, what do we do next?"
Stryker turned and walked toward the jeep.
"Accelerate the Weapon X Program," he said. "I need more Mutant DNA. More Subjects. More... weapons."
He paused and looked back at the ruins.
"No matter who he is, sooner or later, he will be lying on my operating table."
The jeep started up and disappeared into the morning mist.
—
X-Mansion.
Rorschach lay on the bed, looking at the system panel.
[Blood contact detected (Multiple Mutant Subjects)]
[Extracting abilities... Obtained: Strength Enhancementx3 (Duplicate), Speed Enhancement x2 (Duplicate), Healing Factor 0.5 (Incomplete)]
[Duplicate abilities converted to Origin points: +1000]
[Current total points: 14450]
[Keyword detected: William Stryker—Head of Weapon X Program, persecutor of Mutants, has accelerated the program]
[Suggestion: Continue monitoring, wait for the optimal timing for elimination]
Rorschach looked at the line of text, somewhat puzzled.
"Optimal timing?"
He didn't think too much about it, closed the panel, and pulled Raven close beside him.
Raven mumbled groggily, "What are you doing..."
"Nothing," Rorschach whispered, kissing her forehead. "I just feel like some people are tired of living."
Raven rolled over and buried her head in his chest. "Then make them die sooner..."
Rorschach smiled.
"My thoughts exactly."
Moonlight streamed through the window, falling on the two of them.
Raven was already asleep, her breathing steady.
Rorschach closed his eyes.
Trask, Stryker...
Bring it on.
Who's afraid of who.
Chapter 115: The Brotherhood, Sabretooth
Brooklyn, New York.
As night fell, the streetlights flickered on one by one.
Rorschach stood in the shadows of an abandoned factory, watching the old warehouse across the street.
Two men in leather jackets stood at the warehouse entrance, twisted "M" logos tattooed on their arms, their eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
A Brotherhood meeting point.
Rorschach cracked his neck and closed his eyes.
[Shapeshifting 2.3]
A slight itching sensation, like countless ants crawling, came from beneath his skin. He felt his bones subtly adjusting, his muscles reshaping, and the contours of his face shifting.
Three seconds later, he opened his eyes.
The person in the reflection was no longer Rorschach.
Brown hair, ordinary looks, medium build, wearing a crumpled jacket—he looked like any common Mutantdrifter.
He looked down at his hands—the skin was rough, with dirt under the fingernails.
Perfect.
He stepped out of the shadows and walked toward the warehouse.
The two guards at the door immediately stopped him.
"Halt. What are you doing here?"
Rorschach looked up, revealing a somewhat timid smile: "I... I heard there was a Mutant gathering here."
The guard sized him up: "Who told you?"
"The old man selling hot dogs on the corner," Rorschachsaid. "He said I could... find my own kind here."
The two guards exchanged a look; one of them nodded and stepped aside.
"Go on in. Don't cause trouble."
Rorschach walked in with a submissive bow.
The interior of the warehouse was much larger than it appeared from the outside.
At least two hundred people were gathered there, men and women, young and old.
Some wore bizarre costumes, while others simply remained in their Mutant forms—some with wings, some covered in scales, others with glowing eyes.
The air was thick with a mixture of smells: sweat, cigarette smoke, cheap beer, and a certain... feverish excitement.
Rorschach found a corner to lean against the wall, his gaze scanning the crowd.
He saw Toad—the guy who looked like a bullfrog was perched on a table, his long tongue flicking out to lick a glass.
He saw Callisto—the woman covered in sharp spikes stood in the center of the crowd, expressionlessly listening to the flattery of those around her.
And he also saw...
Sabretooth.
The muscular, burly-faced man was sitting at the bar, a bottle in one hand and his other arm around a curvaceous redhead.
He looked like he'd had a bit too much to drink, his face flushed red, and his fangs peeked out from his lips, glinting coldly under the dim lights.
Rorschach narrowed his eyes.
Target located.
He was just about to walk over when he suddenly felt someone approaching from behind.
"New here?"
Rorschach turned around to see a tall, thin man standing behind him, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and looking like a university Professor.
"Yeah," Rorschach nodded.
"First time at the Brotherhood?"
"Yes."
The man smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Relax. Here, we're all among friends."
Rorschach noticed that when the man patted his shoulder, his fingers lingered on his skin for half a second—brief, but long enough to read some basic information.
[Mental Control] Ability type: Sonar Detection.
A living radar.
Rorschach remained impassive, continuing to act timid: "Thanks... I'm just a little nervous."
"Normal," the man said. "By the way, what's your ability?"
Rorschach thought for a moment and made one up on the spot: "I... I can make my skin a bit harder. It's not a very impressive ability."
"Defense type?" The man's eyes lit up. "The Brotherhoodwelcomes all Mutants, regardless of how strong their abilities are. By the way, I'm Simon. And you?"
"Jack," Rorschach gave a fake name off the top of his head.
Simon patted his shoulder again, this time for an even shorter duration.
"Enjoy the gathering, Jack. Magneto will be coming to speak later."
He turned and left, disappearing into the crowd.
Rorschach watched him leave, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
A living radar?
Too bad a radar can't detect things the system marks as 'inactive.'
He turned his gaze back to the bar.
Sabretooth had finished his bottle and was swaying as he stood up, pushing the woman aside and heading toward the restroom.
The opportunity had come.
Rorschach followed him.
—
The restroom reeked of a pungent smell of urine and disinfectant.
Sabretooth was standing at a urinal, humming a tune out of key.
Rorschach walked to the spot next to him and unzipped.
The two stood side by side, neither speaking.
After a few seconds, Sabretooth suddenly turned his head and glared at Rorschach.
"What are you looking at?"
Rorschach blinked.
This opening line... was quite down-to-earth.
He turned his head and glared back at Sabretooth.
"I can't take a look?"
Sabretooth bared his fangs even wider.
"You want to try that again?"
Rorschach smiled.
"I'll try if you want me to."
The next second, Sabretooth's fist came crashing toward him!
It was fast and powerful, whistling through the air.
Rorschach didn't dodge.
He raised his hand and steadily caught the punch.
Fist met palm with a dull thud.
Sabretooth was stunned.
A normal person would have had their arm broken by that punch.
But this ordinary-looking guy in front of him had caught it effortlessly, without even shifting his feet.
"Interesting," Sabretooth grinned, his smile filled with excitement. "What's your name?"
"Jack."
"Jack?" Sabretooth retracted his fist and sized him up. "Your ability... it's more than just hardening your skin, isn't it?"
Rorschach shrugged: "Maybe a bit more than you imagine."
Sabretooth's eyes lit up.
He loved fighting, especially fighting those who could actually fight back.
"Come on, let's take this outside," he said. "It's too cramped in here to move."
Rorschach nodded: "Fine."
The two walked out of the restroom one after the other, through the crowd, and out to the empty lot behind the warehouse.
It was piled high with abandoned shipping containers, the ground was uneven, and the Brooklyn night skyline loomed in the distance.
Quite a few people had followed them out, forming a circle, cheering and whistling.
"Victor's going to fight again!"
"I bet a bottle of whiskey Victor finishes him in three minutes!"
"I bet two bottles!"
Sabretooth—Victor Creed—took off his shirt, revealing solid muscles covered in scars.
He cracked his neck, his bones making a popping sound.
"The rules are simple," he said. "Until one of us stays down."
Rorschach also took off his jacket and tossed it aside.
"Fine."
The moment the word left his lips, both of them moved at once!