CHAPTER 180 — CLASH AT THE PENTAGON
The Blackbird cut through cloud, silent and sleek. Inside, tension rode heavier than the jet's engines.
Logan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, cigar stub chewed between his teeth. He didn't light it—he respected the plane's oxygen lines too much to risk it—but chewing kept his jaw steady.
Storm sat near the cockpit, hands folded on her lap, eyes closed. She looked calm, but the muscles in her jaw betrayed her worry.
Colossus polished his gauntlets, metal gleaming. His lips moved in a quiet prayer, Russian words no one else understood.
Angel flexed his wings, feathers rustling. "So we're protecting a senator who hates us? Feels… ironic."
Thunderbird grunted. "Feels like a waste. Guy's a loudmouth. Let the Brotherhood have him."
Kate snapped her head up. Her voice carried the weight of graves. "If he dies, John, the world dies with him. Not just us. Everyone."
That silenced him.
Nightcrawler tried to lighten it. "Vell, look on ze bright side—at least ve vill make ze evening news, ja?"
Logan smirked. "Kid, with your face, we'll make the horror channel."
Nightcrawler hissed in mock offense, tail lashing. Kate actually chuckled—a sound foreign to her older throat.
Storm's eyes opened. "Enough. We land in two minutes."
The jet dipped, banking over D.C., the Pentagon sprawling like a fortress below.
---
Inside the great hall, Senator Robert Kelly's voice rang proud and loud. "These mutants are not citizens—they are weapons. Unchecked, uncontrolled, they will tear our world apart!"
A swell of applause from half the room. Murmurs from the rest. Cameras flashed.
At one table, Charles Xavier sat, hands folded, Moira MacTaggert whispering beside him. His eyes flickered with disapproval, but his face remained serene.
Then the doors opened. The X-Men filed in. Storm led, regal as a queen. Logan padded behind, half-shadow. Kate clung to composure in Kitty's small body.
Xavier's brows rose. Kitty stepped close. "Professor, we—"
"No words," Xavier murmured. His eyes flared faintly. "Do not resist."
Kitty stiffened, then nodded. His mind brushed hers, faster than speech. Images flooded him—Sentinels, fire, graves, the Brotherhood. His expression darkened like a thunderhead.
He leaned back slowly, voice low to Moira. "It's true."
Moira swallowed. "God help us."
---
Elsewhere in the Pentagon, a secretary ducked into a side chamber. Her skin rippled blue, her eyes burned gold. Mystique.
Her Brotherhood rose from shadow—Avalanche cracking his knuckles, Pyro flicking a flame, Blob grinning greasy, Destiny silent with her blind gaze fixed inward.
Mystique's voice was velvet wrapped around steel. "History pivots tonight. Humans will fear us—or fall to us."
Avalanche cracked his neck. "Then let's bring down the house."
---
Back in Kelly's chamber, Logan's nose twitched. A scent, faint but sharp, cutting through suits and sweat.
"Storm," he growled under his breath. "They're here."
The walls quaked.
A thunderous crack split stone as Avalanche tore through with a wave of force. Rubble rained. Senators screamed. Cameras toppled.
The Brotherhood stormed in. Blob roared, Pyro lit flames that curled like hungry snakes, Destiny lingered in shadow, and Mystique strode tall, eyes locked on Kelly.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she purred, "the age of mankind ends tonight."
Xavier's face hardened.
Storm lifted her chin. Lightning flickered in her eyes.
Logan spat out his cigar stub, claws snikting into the open.
"X-Men," he growled, "line up. Nobody dies on our watch."
And shoulder to shoulder, the team faced the Brotherhood as the chamber erupted into chaos.