Chapter 187 — The Blackbird Falls
The Blackbird sliced through the night sky, stars smeared across the cockpit glass. Inside, the hum of engines mixed with the voices of the team.
Colossus sat rigid, hands clasped so tight they could have cracked steel — if he'd had it. Without his armored form, he looked too human, too vulnerable. He kept glancing out the window, jaw set.
Kitty fidgeted beside him, legs bouncing. "So… Bermuda Triangle, huh? I mean, we always knew it was weird but this? Magneto's secret evil lair? Feels a little cliché."
Nightcrawler grinned, sharp teeth flashing as he dangled his tail across the aisle. "Ach, Kitty, cliché or not, it beats homework, nein?"
She shot him a look. "I'd rather be doing calculus right now."
Logan sat toward the back, boots up on the floor console, cigar smoke curling around his face. He'd been silent since takeoff, just watching the younger ones chatter. Finally, he muttered, "If you two don't zip it, I'll toss ya both out the hatch and let ya swim the rest of the way."
"Charming," Kurt said, pretending to clutch his chest. "Such warmth from our resident Canadian."
"Keep pushin' your luck, elf." Logan exhaled smoke, eyes narrowing. 'Kids are nervous. Best let 'em vent before the claws come out for real.'
Storm, strapped into the Pilot seat, glanced back. Her voice was calm, but iron underneath. "Focus, all of you. Remember what we saw. This is not a game. Thousands of lives may depend on us."
"Yes, Storm," Colossus said, relief flickering across his face at someone speaking sense.
Storm leaned from the cockpit, where she'd been staring at navigation charts. "Magneto won't hesitate to kill if it serves his purpose. Don't give him the chance."
Kitty folded her arms, muttering. "Well that's comforting."
Suddenly, the Blackbird lurched. Lights flared red. Consoles sparked. The engines coughed like dying beasts.
"What the hell—?" Logan shot upright, cigar falling from his lips.
Storm's eyes snapped wide. "The field! It's interfering with the systems!"
The jet's nose dipped hard. The Blackbird groaned, its wings trembling as if trying to shake free. The earth rushed up at them, black ocean churning.
Kitty screamed, grabbing Colossus's arm.
"Hang on!" Storm shouted, wrestling the useless controls.
"Ve are falling!" Kurt yelled, tail whipping as he braced against the wall.
Logan's claws slid out with a metallic snikt, instinct kicking in. "Everybody brace! This bird's about to kiss the ocean!"
Xavier, seated behind, his chair locked into safety rails, was calm but pale. "Stay focused. Do not give in to fear."
The nose plunged. Black water filled the view.
Storm's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Hold on to something!"
She closed her eyes, feeling the storm inside her blood, the pressure of sea and sky. She reached down, not to the air, but to the water below, pulling, pushing, commanding.
The ocean bucked. Waves surged upward, curling beneath the jet like a cushion. The Blackbird slammed into it, slowed, tossed, but not shattered. Spray exploded across the cockpit glass. The plane skidded, skipped, and finally settled, groaning, half-sunk in the water.
Silence.
Then Kurt laughed nervously. "Well! I always did like water rides."
Kitty shoved him. "Don't do that! My heart's still in my throat!"
Colossus stared at his hands, trembling. His skin stayed soft, fragile. He whispered, "I could not change. I tried, and… nothing." Panic laced his voice. "Without my armor, I am nothing."
Xavier's voice was steady, though sorrow tinged it. "There is a power-inhibitor field across this island. It is suppressing your abilities. We will have to adapt."
Logan shook off the water dripping down his jacket, claws sliding back into his fists. He lit another cigar with a shaky hand, smoke curling in the damp air.
"Adapt, huh? Fine. Then we walk." He blew a smoke ring toward the broken console. "But first, somebody remind me to punch Buckethead square in the face for trashin' my ride."
Kitty groaned. "Pretty sure the Blackbird wasn't yours."
"Details, kid."
Storm straightened, her white hair slicked to her shoulders, eyes hard as steel. "We head for the island. Whatever Magneto has prepared, we must end it before he destroys more lives."
Nightcrawler crossed himself quickly. "Ja. May God forgive us for what comes next."
The X-Men unstrapped, one by one, water sloshing at their boots as the wrecked jet rocked in the waves. The dark outline of Magneto's island loomed ahead, sharp and black against the moonlit sea.
Logan sniffed the air, nose twitching despite the inhibitor's chokehold. The scent of salt and oil and… something else. Something familiar.
'That smell. No mistakin' it. An old ghost's waitin' for us on that rock.'
He growled low, lighting the way with smoke and menace.
"Let's go find our friend."