Emma struts ahead of me through the maze of metal corridors like she owns the place. In her stolen yellow A.I.M. uniform with that ridiculous helmet, she should look as awkward as I feel, but somehow she makes even this hazmat monstrosity seem elegant. Not a single A.I.M. agent glances our way, they just keep walking past us like we're invisible.
"Hey," I whisper, keeping my voice low despite our apparent invisibility. "How are we moving around so freely?"
Emma turns her head slightly. "Telepathy, darling. I'm making us... unremarkable. Their eyes slide right over us."
"That's handy."
She taps the side of her helmet. "When we return to the mansion, Jack, don't mention anything about that Scarlet Warlock business to anyone."
I frown inside my helmet. "Why not?"
"Well, he's an Avenger and Magneta's son. It's all super convoluted and complicated."
"If Xavier or Scotty asks me what happened, I'm going to tell them," I reply firmly. After everything that's happened today, having my ankle fused in metal, getting it sawed off, and confronting a floating head monster, I'm not in the mood for secret-keeping.
"No, that's not…" Emma sighs, the sound oddly distorted through her helmet. "I'm talking about the students. I'm not asking you to keep secrets from Xavier... about this specifically."
"Alright," I concede, not entirely sure what she's getting at but too focused on our mission to argue.
We walk a bit further down a hallway that looks identical to the last five we've been through.
"Jesus, MODOK's already out like a light," Emma mutters, more to herself than to me.
"You're in her mind?" I ask, impressed and slightly disturbed at the thought of anyone willingly entering that floating nightmare's consciousness.
"No, she has blockers," Emma corrects me. "But I'm in one of her guards' minds, and the relief is palpable."
I consider this for a moment. "That's good for us, right?"
"Big time," she confirms, stopping abruptly in front of a heavy metal door with a keypad. She examines it briefly before punching in a series of numbers she must have plucked from some guard's brain.
The door slides open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a long hallway lined with cells.
"I think this is it," Emma says, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Everyone should be in this cell block, and I'm not sensing any other prisoners."
We slip through the doorway and Emma quickly shuts it behind us. The sound of the lock clicking back into place seems absurdly loud in the quiet corridor. She immediately yanks off her helmet.
I follow suit, pulling off my own helmet with relief.
"Let's move," Emma whispers, already striding down the corridor with that confident walk of hers.
The cell block is dimly lit, casting everything in an eerie blue glow that makes the whole place feel underwater. As we make our way deeper, I count four separate cells, two on each side of the hallway. My heart jumps when I recognize the occupants.
Scotty and Kitty are slumped against the walls of their respective cells, both completely unconscious. In the third cell, there's a woman I don't recognize lying motionless on a narrow cot. But it's the fourth cell that really catches my attention.
Standing at attention, hands pressed against the transparent barrier, is a blue-skinned woman with vibrant red hair. Her yellow eyes track our movement with predatory focus.
"Mystique!" I blurt out, pointing at her like an idiot tourist spotting a celebrity.
Emma's lips curl into an amused smirk. "Very good, Jack. Ten points for Hufflepuff."
"That hurts far more than you could ever imagine."
Emma strides directly to Mystique's cell, confidence radiating from her like heat from a furnace. She stops just short of the barrier, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Mystique," she says coolly.
"Emma," Mystique replies.
"Why are you here?" Emma asks, head tilted slightly in genuine curiosity.
Mystique shrugs one blue shoulder. "Because my ride hasn't come yet."
Emma rolls her eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't fall out of her head. "We shouldn't have even bothered," she mutters, turning away from Mystique's cell and moving toward where Scotty and Kitty are imprisoned.
As Emma starts working on the control panel to Scotty's cell, I hover awkwardly in the middle of the corridor, feeling useless.
"Magneta would never let one of his prime enforcers rot in a cell," Emma explains as her fingers dance across the keypad. The barriers to Scotty's and Kitty's cells shimmer and disappear. "And she would have saved Angel for us too."
I watch as Emma strides over to the control panel next to the other cells. She works quickly, her hands move with clinical effeciency. The woman I don't recognize in the third cell, must be Angel, stirs for the first time since we arrived. Her eyelids flutter open, revealing eyes filled with disbelief and desperate hope.
"My God," she whispers, her voice raspy from disuse. "Am I saved?"
"Yes, fallen Angel. And your salvation's name is Frost."
The barrier to Angel's cell flickers out. Emma moves to the final panel, releasing Mystique as well. The blue-skinned shapeshifter steps out casually.
Just as Mystique crosses the threshold, the entire station lurches violently beneath our feet. I stumble, grabbing the wall for support as everything around us groans and shudders. There's a terrible metallic screech, and suddenly my stomach drops like I'm on the world's worst elevator.
"Jesus Christ, what's happening?" I shout over the cacophony of twisting metal and blaring alarms.
Emma doesn't answer me. Instead, she turns toward Scotty and Kitty, who've been slumped unconscious this whole time. Their bodies jolt simultaneously, both gasping awake like they've been shocked with defibrillators. Scotty's head whips around, her visor glinting in the emergency lights now flashing throughout the corridor.
"I gotta stop getting knocked out," she mutters, pushing herself to her feet with a grimace.
"Cyclops," Emma says sharply, "Magneta's here, and she's lifting the whole rig."
As if on cue, evacuation orders start blaring through hidden speakers, the computerized voice eerily calm as it instructs all personnel to proceed to emergency vessels immediately. The entire structure continues to shake, metal panels groaning under stresses they were never designed to withstand.
"So dramatic, Magneta," Emma whispers under her breath. "Such a show-off."
Scotty staggers to her feet, immediately snapping back into leader mode despite having been unconscious moments ago. "We need to evac too," she orders, helping Kitty up. "Now."
Before any of us can move toward the exit, the wall at the far end of the cell block rips away like it's made of tissue paper. Cold ocean air rushes in, carrying the smell of salt and ozone. My jaw drops as I take in the impossible sight before us.
Floating there, suspended in mid-air, is the most intimidating woman I've ever seen.
Her figure cuts a dramatic silhouette against the night sky, tall, powerful, draped in deep purple and crimson. A helmet that looks like it was forged in medieval times frames her stern face, and her cape billows behind her like she's posing for some dictator's propaganda poster. Even from this distance, I can feel the raw power emanating from her. This is Magneta.
She hovers effortlessly outside the gaping hole, looking almost bored as she surveys us. Her eyes slide past Emma, Scotty, and Kitty before landing on Mystique with laser-like focus.
"Mystique," she says, her voice carrying an accent I can't quite place. "You've been gone too long."
The blue woman steps forward, completely unbothered by the fact that we're now essentially standing in a metal box suspended hundreds of feet above the ocean.
"My apologies, Erika," Mystique replies with a slight bow of her head.
With a casual flick of her wrist, Magneta tears a massive metal platform from somewhere below us and floats it to the edge of our newly created exit. The way she manipulates metal with such effortless precision makes my healing factor seem like a party trick in comparison.
Her eyes sweep over our ragtag group again, lingering a bit longer this time. "X-Women?" she asks, one eyebrow arching elegantly.
Emma suddenly looks tense beside me. Her cool, collected demeanor falters for just a second as her voice slides into my mind.
'Don't say a word.'
Scotty steps forward, visor glinting in the moonlight. "Are you going to let us go in peace?" she asks, her voice steady despite our precarious situation.
Magneta's lips curl into something that might be a smile on anyone else, but on her, it just looks calculating. "I have no interest in harming mutants."
As if summoned by her words, the Blackbird appears, hovering impossibly close to our suspended platform. The loading ramp extends toward us like a metal tongue, ready to swallow us to safety.
Scotty doesn't hesitate. She steps onto the platform Magneta created, motioning for us to follow. "It's alright," she assures us. "Magneta doesn't usually lie."
I hesitate, watching Magneta hover there like some goddess. Everyone else is already moving toward the platform, but something about her makes my skin prickle with warning.
Emma's hand suddenly clamps around my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong as she practically drags me forward. "Come on, CrackerJack," she hisses, her eyes never leaving Magneta. "Don't dawdle."
I stumble after her, acutely aware of how she's positioning herself between me and Magneta. It seems unnecessary, the woman hasn't made any threatening moves toward us, but Emma's holding me close like she's afraid I might get snatched away.
We step onto the floating metal platform, which doesn't even wobble despite now holding our entire group. Magneta's powers are no joke. The wind whips around us, tugging at our stolen A.I.M. uniforms as we hover hundreds of feet above the churning ocean.
"Thank you," Scotty says stiffly to Magneta, clearly uncomfortable with owing her anything.
Magneta barely acknowledges the gratitude, her attention still fixed on Mystique. With another casual flick, she creates a second, smaller platform and floats it alongside ours. Mystique steps onto it.
True to her word, Magneta guides our makeshift ferry smoothly toward the hovering Blackbird.
"You should all visit Genosha sometime," Magneta calls out as we reach the ramp. "It's much better than that tiny mansion."
Emma's fingers dig deeper into my arm as she guides me up the ramp. "Perhaps."
The ramp hisses closed behind us, sealing out the howling wind and the imposing presence of Magneta. I shake off Emma's grip.
"What was that about?" I ask, my voice low as the others rush to their positions.
Emma's eyes meet mine, and for once, there's no flirtation or amusement there. "Magneta has a thing for collecting powerful mutants," she says simply. "And you, darling, are quite the collector's item."
Before I can press her further, Scotty's voice cuts through the cabin. "Everyone strap in! We're getting the hell out of here before she changes her mind!"