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….
Planet Earth, Westchester, New York.
The brilliance of the Bifrost faded, and we found ourselves back in hospitable Midgard. Well, as hospitable as it gets, anyway.
Right here and now, though, everything was peaceful and idyllic.
A clear sky overhead dotted with fluffy white clouds, a light, refreshing breeze blowing in our faces, a crowd of mutant kids running around and playing on the sports field literally ten feet away... Ah, wait.
No longer running and playing. Now they were standing there with their jaws on the floor, staring at the "Sky Skiff" stuffed to the brim with equipment that had just materialized in a pillar of light a second ago.
"Where are we?" Sarah inquired, casting an apprehensive look at the witnesses.
"A suburb of New York. Also happens to be the home of one of the largest mutant communities," I said, scanning the haul I'd snagged from Asgard before mentally releasing the Destroyer back to its post in the Vault.
"I just hope Charles hasn't cluttered up his basement yet, otherwise this is going to be a bit awkward."
"..." Yuriko, having switched back into her "strict secretary" mode, didn't bother following my gaze. Instead, she was busy evaluating the crowd and the perimeter.
Laura, in contrast, looked up at my face with this unreadable, assessing stare. And Sarah... well, nobody found out what Sarah was thinking, because she was too well-mannered to say it out loud.
"Kids!" Without missing a beat, I shot them double finger-guns to grab their attention. "You all know me, and we all understand what's going on here, so no questions!" I quickly clarified my position the moment I caught the glint of recognition in their eyes. "Jubilee, sweetheart," I spotted one of the most hyperactive and fast-footed students in the crowd, "run and get the Prof. I need the hangar doors open."
"Y-yes, of course, Mr. Loki," the fifteen-year-old Asian girl in the yellow jacket nodded rapidly and sprinted toward the mansion doors.
"Loki?" Cyclops stepped out from behind some bushes, evidently keeping an eye on the younger generation in his role as the PE teacher.
"Scott," I returned the greeting.
"What the..." The mutant parted his lips, clearly struggling to form a coherent thought into sounds, but only managed a vague gesture toward the hull of the Skiff hovering two feet off the ground.
"What? I'm not giving you grief about the fact that you guys build little cars on wheels instead of proper mechas."
"Even I know that walking vehicles are way more complicated to design and produce than wheeled ones," Summers retorted, more or less pulling himself together.
"Sure, but you can always shove an Ordinary Japanese Schoolboy into a mecha and be guaranteed the world will be saved... even if it costs a couple of Japanese metropolises," I corrected myself with a touch of feigned awkwardness.
"But hey!" I quickly backpedaled.
"The only people who love destroying their own cities more than the Japanese are the Americans! Nowhere else has the general public been pitched so many projects on the subject! You even indoctrinate your kids with the idea, dragging them to the movies every time New York gets leveled."
"Okay, that's it," Cyclops waved his hands defensively. "I made a mistake, I don't want to know what you're talking about or what's going on! Just... just get that thing off the lawn before some satellite spots it!"
"Don't worry, they won't. I've already covered everything with an illusion."
At this point, the other residents of the estate started showing up.
First, Jean appeared from the far end of the sports field. A few seconds later, Charles walked out of the mansion doors accompanied by Jubilee, and finally, Storm hurried out right behind them.
And yes, Charles was walking on his own two feet. He leaned ever so slightly on an elegant cane with a metal pommel, not so much out of weakness, it seemed to me, but because the habit of moving his legs properly hadn't fully returned yet.
"Welcome back, Loki," the telepath smiled amiably as he reached us.
On his way over, he had already shot a meaningful look at the senior staff to take care of the kids, or rather, to rapidly relocate them somewhere out of harm's way.
As a result, the senior students were already bustling about, trying to herd the rather disgruntled, curious teenagers away.
"I see you've brought guests?" He finally looked at my companions.
"I have. Introductions are in order," I half-turned to the women and the child. "This is Sarah Kinney. Geneticist and biologist. Due to circumstances, she was forced to work for the bad guys, but then the heroic me showed up and heroically saved her. And this little miracle is her daughter, who also happens to be the result of a super-soldier assassin experiment. Off-the-charts psychological stability, but zero socialization skills. Oh, and she is absolutely amazing at slicing salami!"
"Salami?" Xavier didn't quite follow my train of thought.
"..." the girl silently went snikt with her adamantium claws. And I wasn't joking, she actually had used them to slice sausage a few times during our road trip.
The result was a couple of completely severed cutting boards, after which Sarah finally managed to explain to her that for such purposes, one should use kitchen knives, not weapons capable of slicing through steel like butter.
"I see," Charles said, looking at her with a new expression.
"And last but certainly not least, Yuriko," I introduced the regenerator. "She went through a similar ordeal."
"Welcome to the School for Gifted Youngsters. My name is Charles Xavier; please make yourselves at home," the telepath greeted them with a respectful nod.
"Thank you," the geneticist replied, hesitating a little. Yuriko limited herself to a bow of her head, while Laura continued to guilelessly study and observe everyone.
"Well, now that the formalities are out of the way, let's actually get my Asgardian trophies into the hangar. I brought quite a haul, and it really shouldn't just be sitting out in the open."
"Of course," Charles agreed.
Getting the job done quickly didn't pan out. Between opening the basketball court, squeezing the Skiff in next to the jet, and closing it all back up, a good half-hour passed.
And all the while, dozens of curious little noses watched us from the school windows.
Neither Charles nor I bothered to do anything about them. I have no idea how Xavier justified it to himself, but from my perspective, trying to hide the existence of "underground operations" in the mansion from the students was doomed to fail from the start.
There were too few teachers for constant supervision, the living area was too small, meaning everything happened in one building without random remote wings, and finally, the local kids had way too many interesting abilities, ranging from controlling electronics to walking through walls and short-distance teleportation.
The only things that could help here were either total telepathic control or a proper explanation of the importance of keeping secrets and the dangers of sticking their noses where they didn't belong. And knowing Charles, he definitely wasn't using the first option.
"Alright, the most pressing matter is handled; I'll unload the rest later," I said, hopping down from the edge of the Skiff onto the hangar floor. "Now, about the rest." I looked questioningly at the mutants. Well, specifically at Xavier.
"I hope you haven't accidentally started a war somewhere or taken over the world?" the professor tried to joke, smiling gently.
"We-e-ell..." I put on a highly convincing show of looking guilty.
"Oh," the telepath sighed, pressing the fingers of his free hand to his forehead.
….
If you want to read ahead by 20+ chapters from here you can visit my Patre-on.
[P] [A] [T] [R] [E] [O] [N]
[email protected]/Yggdrasil_Loki