Mystique shrank into the form of a crying schoolgirl. I, naturally, turned into the cranky old lady she'd used earlier.
Her eyes widened in horror. She hadn't expected me to copy her own shapeshifting so smoothly—like I'd been doing it my whole life.
A patrol car rolled up beside us. The officer lowered the window, frowning at the sight of an old woman dragging a middle schooler by the ankle.
"What's going on here?"
I squinted and sighed. "My granddaughter's been sneaking off to hang out with street punks. Gotta drag her home somehow, right?"
The cop grumbled, "Grab her hand, not her foot. Looks weird as hell."
With a laugh, the cruiser pulled away.
I turned back to Mystique, flashing teeth. "See? You can't escape me."
Her mask cracked. "What the hell do you want from me?!"
"I told you already. Be my subordinate."
She spat back, "You? A kid who barely grows hair wants to dominate me?"
I raised a brow. "Oh? My hair looks fine from here."
She struggled in my grip, face twisted. "If you want me under you… then defeat Magneto. Beat him, and I'll follow you without question."
"Sounds fair." I released her legs… only to yank her back a moment later, forcing her into a compromising position. If we weren't clothed, this pose would've been rated eighteen-plus.
Not that I had time for that nonsense. While she was stunned, I chopped the back of her neck. Thud.
Mystique slumped, reverting to her original blue-skinned form.
I hoisted her onto my shoulder and headed back toward the restroom. Knocking on the stall where Rogue was hiding, I called out, "You can come out now."
"…Who's out there?"
Oh, crap. I was still disguised. Dropping the Transformation Jutsu with a puff of smoke, I tried again. "It's me."
The door creaked open. Rogue blinked at the sight of Mystique draped over my shoulder, eyes wide.
"Give me your cloak," I said. "She needs to stay covered. Too flashy like this."
"…Alright."
Once Mystique was cloaked, I led both of them back to school. I'd planned to shop with Rogue afterward, maybe grab her a new belt, but with a shapeshifting terrorist knocked out cold, window-shopping didn't feel like priority one.
Back on campus, I dumped Mystique on my bed and made for Jean Grey's office.
Professor Jean wasn't just a teacher here—she was also the school's resident doctor. Lucky for me.
I knocked just as she returned from surgery on Pyro.
"Come in," she said.
Seeing me, Jean smiled softly. "Looking for me about Pyro's condition?"
"No."
Still, she added with a patient smile, "He'll live. Finger's reattached, nothing too serious. He even admitted he's underestimated you, said he'd apologize next time."
I waved it off. "Doesn't matter. I already gave him a lesson he won't forget. What I need from you, teacher, is different. Last week, you mentioned trackers that can be implanted directly into the body."
Jean tilted her head. "Yes…"
"I brought someone who needs tracking. I want you to put one in her."
Her eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"Mystique."
Jean's calm broke for a second—shock flashing across her face. "Mystique? Magneto's top lieutenant? Where is she now?"
"In my room."
"Did you… capture her?"
"She came for Rogue. I knocked her out. I've got a feeling Magneto's planning something dirty. If we can monitor Mystique's location at all times, we'll have the upper hand."
Jean considered it, then nodded. "Alright. Go wait in your room. I'll bring the equipment."
"Good."
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Jean entered with a needle glinting under the light.
I crossed my arms. "So… where's the tracker?"