The sun beats down on Genosha like it's got something to prove, turning the air into a thick soup of heat that sticks to my skin. Day four of our little vacation, and I'm still not used to the surreal sci-fi vibe of this place. The streets gleam too perfectly, like someone polished every inch with cosmic Windex.
"So, this is what mutant paradise looks like," I say, trying not to gawk as we pass a woman casually levitating groceries beside her while chatting on some holographic phone. "Gotta admit, it makes the mansion look like a retirement home."
Emma walks beside me, her white outfit somehow remaining pristine despite the heat.
"Paradise is a strong word," she replies, those ice-blue eyes scanning the crowd with practiced caution. "More like a gilded cage with excellent amenities."
I nod, pretending I completely understand the political nuances at play. Truth is, I'm still wrapping my head around being a mutant at all, let alone the complex soap opera of mutant politics.
As we turn down a wide boulevard lined with floating gardens, something starts nagging at me. I've been noticing it since we landed, but it's becoming impossible to ignore.
"Hey, Emma," I say, as I watch yet another group of women pass by, a cluster of six, all with visible mutations ranging from blue skin to what looks like actual wings folded against their backs. "Why are there so many more women than men here?"
Emma gives me that look, the one that says I've missed something obvious.
"You do know that eighty percent of all mutants are women, right?" She raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "It's basic mutant demographics. Did you somehow miss this rather fundamental aspect of our species?"
"Oh yeah," I say, memory clicking into place. "Xavier mentioned that the day I arrived. Guess with everything else going on, it sort of... slipped my mind."
"I guess I've been a little preoccupied," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck.
Emma's expression softens just a fraction. "Fair enough."
We continue walking, passing a group of young women practicing some kind of telekinetic game with floating spheres. I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if I'd grown up here instead of with my mom.
"So," Emma says casually, breaking into my thoughts, "Christmas is coming up."
The sudden shift to something so normal catches me off guard. "Christmas? Oh, right. I guess it is."
"Will we be back at the mansion for that?" I ask, realizing I have no idea how long this Genosha "vacation" is supposed to last.
"Yes," Emma nods, her platinum hair catching the sunlight. "I can't let the Stepford sisters forget their favorite teacher for too long."
I can't help but laugh at that. "Just don't give them horses for Christmas."
Emma's laugh is genuine. "Maybe."
Before she can say more, her phone chimes with a distinctive tone. She pulls it from a hidden pocket in her immaculate white outfit and checks the screen.
She picks it up. "Polaris, what can I do for you?"
I watch as her face shifts from mild annoyance to sharp attention. Her posture straightens even more, if that's possible.
"I don't see how that's my problem," Emma says coolly. "We're here on a vacation, not to play detective for your…"
She stops abruptly, listening. Her eyes narrow.
"Missing? For how long?" Her voice drops lower. "And you're certain she was in Hammer Bay?"
I try not to look like I'm eavesdropping, but it's pretty much impossible when I'm standing two feet away.
"Fine," she finally says, her resistance clearly crumbling. "Yes, of course we'll help find Firestar. We'll meet Magik at the spire."
She ends the call and slides the phone back into her pocket, her expression troubled.
"Firestar is missing?" I ask immediately, remembering the flame-haired woman from the pool.
Emma nods. "Yes. According to Polaris, she went missing sometime yesterday. Apparently, she was following up some lead for a missing persons case."
"That's... not good." My mind races back to our conversation by the pool.
*****
We make it back to the gleaming tower of our hotel in record time. The doorman nods respectfully at Emma as we approach the entrance, but we don't make it inside. Just as we reach the front steps, the air in front of us... tears. There's no other way to describe it. A bright white circle materializes out of nowhere, like someone took a cosmic knife and sliced a hole through reality itself.
I stumble backward, nearly tripping over my own feet as two figures step through the portal. One is Magik, the same intimidating blonde in black armor I met yesterday. The other is Mystique with her deep blue skin and red hair, wearing what looks like a tactical catsuit that leaves very little to the imagination.
"Hello, Magik," Emma says coolly, not missing a beat like this sort of thing happens every day. Her gaze shifts to the blue woman. "Mystique."
"Emma."
Magik looks at Emma, a hint of amusement playing at her lips. "Interesting being on the same side now, Emma, isn't it?"
"Yes," Emma replies with a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Let's get along."
I stand there awkwardly, feeling like I've stumbled into some kind of super-powered high school reunion where everyone has complicated history. Magik notices me and gives a small nod of recognition.
"You're the boy from the pool," she says, her Russian accent more noticeable now.
"Jack," I correct her, trying not to sound annoyed at being called 'boy.' "Jack Crackwell."
Mystique's yellow eyes shift to me, her gaze appraising in a way that makes my skin tingle.
"I've been seeing you a lot lately, Jack," she says, her voice like velvet wrapped around a knife. "First I saved you from Sabretooth, and then at A.I.M."
The 'Rogue' who freed Sabretooth. The blue woman at the A.I.M. facility. Both were her.
"Well, it's nice to formally meet you, Mystique," I reply, extending my hand.
I can't help but notice how gorgeous she is up close. The sunlight plays across her blue skin in a way that's almost hypnotic. Her figure is something straight out of a fantasy, curves in all the right places. There's something dangerously alluring about her, like admiring a beautiful poisonous snake.
Mystique takes my hand, her grip firm and confident. "Raven Darkhölme," she says, her yellow eyes never leaving mine.
"Should I call you Raven?" I ask, still holding her hand perhaps a moment too long.
Her lips curl into a smile that's equal parts amusement and predatory interest. "I don't care what you call me."
I become aware of Emma beside me, her posture stiffening slightly. When I glance over, her face has that pinched look of barely contained annoyance.
Emma clears her throat sharply. "So what's the deal? What's going on with Firestar?"
Magik's blue eyes flick between Emma and me, her face hardening. "Firestar isn't just another random disappearance," she says, crossing her arms over her black armor. "She's part of a pattern."
"A pattern?" I ask, feeling that familiar knot form in my stomach, the one that usually precedes something terrible.
Magik's gaze settles on me, intense enough to make me shift uncomfortably. "My sister, Petra, went missing a few months ago," she explains, her Russian accent thickening with emotion. "While I was searching for her, I started noticing other mutants in the States were vanishing too."
"Not many," she continues, "but enough to raise questions."
Emma stiffens beside me. "You didn't think to bring this to Xavier's attention?"
Magik scoffs, her armored shoulders tensing. "I thought they were just running off to Genosha at first. You know how it is, mutants getting fed up with human bullshit and seeking the promised land." She gestures around at the gleaming cityscape. "Didn't have time to chase down every person when I was focused on finding Petra."
"But then," Magik continues, her blue eyes hardening, "Polaris reached out to me. Said a few mutants were going missing here in Genosha too." She looks pointedly at Mystique. "That's when I knew something bigger was happening."
"So you two teamed up?" I ask, trying to piece everything together.
Mystique's yellow eyes flick to mine. "I have certain... skills... that make me useful for investigations of this nature."
"Meaning she can look like anyone and go anywhere," Magik adds with a hint of grudging respect. "I specifically reached out to Firestar because I wanted to build a team. Speed up our work."
"And now she's missing too," Emma concludes, her voice flat.
Magik nods, her expression grim. "We all took different leads yesterday. Firestar was supposed to check in last night, but she never did. That's not like her at all, she's annoyingly punctual."
I feel a chill run down my spine despite the Genoshan heat. "She seemed nice when I met her."
"She's 'nice' enough to fall for just about anything," Mystique says, examining her nails with casual disdain. "Probably got herself drugged while rescuing a kitten from a tree or something equally stupid."
Magik's head snaps toward Mystique, her blue eyes flashing with irritation. "Don't shit-talk Firestar," she warns, voice dropping dangerously low. "She's a good person."
"But yes," she concedes after a moment, crossing her arms over her black armor, "that could be what happened. She's too trusting sometimes."
I glance between them, trying to piece together the bigger picture. "Where exactly was her lead taking her?"
"Carrion Cove," Mystique replies, the name slipping from her tongue like something distasteful.
"What's that?" I ask, feeling stupid for not knowing.
Emma shifts beside me, her posture straightening into lecture mode. "It's the other major city on Genosha. It was the last holdout here when Magneta was taking over the island. They resisted her the longest."
Mystique nods, her red hair catching the sunlight. "Big industrial city, good ports," she adds. "If someone is kidnapping mutants, it'd be a great place to ship them out of. Easy access to international waters."
The implications sink in, making my stomach twist. "But why would someone kidnap mutants? What's the point?"
Mystique's laugh is cold and hollow, completely devoid of humor. "A million reasons, Jack," she says, shaking her head like I'm a naive child. "Humans hate us. They probably want to take us apart, experiment on us. Learn what makes us tick."
"That sounds horrible."
"Exactly," Magik says grimly, her hand moving unconsciously to the hilt of her massive sword. "And now Firestar might be on someone's operating table because she got too close to the truth."
My fists clench at my sides as Magik's words sink in. The image of Firestar strapped to some cold metal table, being cut apart like a lab specimen, hits me harder than I expected.
"Then we have to go save her," I say, my voice coming out stronger and more determined than I intended.
Magik's eyes meet mine, and for the first time since she stepped through that portal, I see something like approval in her gaze.
"That's the plan."