Chapter 53
***
I lowered my eyes and froze, feigning a complete lack of emotion, initiative, intellect, and interest in what was happening. I was soaking wet, with icicles of hair clinging to my face, wearing clothes that had burst at the seams and grown too short, my toes poking through the fronts of my boots.
I stood perfectly still, but carefully tracked everything going on around me.
The rain stopped. The thundercloud summoned by Storm had been dispersed by her as well. The sun peeked out once more.
Suo's carpet glided smoothly down to the crater. Both women stepped onto the sand. The Summers brothers approached. Storm flew down. Hank climbed out from the depths of the X-Jet.
The carpets carrying the mages and Externals flew in. Their passengers disembarked, carefully inspected the crater, and approached Suo, dividing into two distinct camps.
Speaking for the mages was a dignified, elderly man of Eastern appearance with a long gray beard and long hair pinned up with a wooden hairpin.
"I testify that the Treaty has not been broken," he said, taking a step forward, before retreating back to the others.
Selene stepped up to speak for the Externals. She, too, took a step forward.
"The Treaty has not been broken," she confirmed, then took a step back.
Following these words, there was a general, mutual bow, after which almost all the mages and Externals departed through portals. Two mages remained. Two Externals as well. They were Selene and Candra.
"My condolences for your loss," Selene said to Suo. Candra nodded in agreement. "What do you plan to do with him now?" she asked, gesturing toward me with a glance.
"I don't know," Suo said, lowering her gaze. "I'll take him to Kamar-Taj. Perhaps over time, some sort of personality will form."
"If you'd like, I can take him with me," Candra offered.
"Why would you want him?" Suo asked, surprised.
"As a breeder, he could be useful even without a personality. Strong genes would be very beneficial to the Assassins Guild," the External shrugged, closely inspecting me, particularly my body.
My "stone face" leveled up a couple more times at that exact moment.
"I'll think about it," Suo finished me off.
At that moment, I wanted to wring all three of their necks so badly my hands literally itched. But I held myself back. I'd had enough of Externals for one day. We barely managed to take down one. I'd deal with Suo later. A classic "we'll talk about this when we get home" situation.
"Well, good luck," Selene bid her farewell. Candra nodded.
The remaining mages opened portals through which the two ladies departed. Then the mages themselves left through different portals.
By this point, Eric had dug himself out and found the courage to approach us. He couldn't meet my wife's eyes. Nightcrawler, who had been hiding somewhere all this time, "jumped" in with the still-unconscious Professor in his arms. Jean walked over too; apparently, she had been here coordinating the X-team's actions.
"Can you make it back on your own?" Suo checked.
Eric nodded, cast a glance at me, and lifted the X-Jet into the air. Suo nodded in return, grabbed the sleeve of my ripped jacket, opened a portal, and led me away to Kamar-Taj.
We stepped out right inside her house, which was currently empty. Empty in the sense that the students who usually hovered around weren't there. She let go of me and turned toward a shelf full of books and tomes.
I smirked, immediately slapped my "stone face" back on, and pinched my wife's ass. Not hard enough to hurt. She spun around sharply and slapped my hand. I won't even try to describe the expression on her face; there was just too much mixed into it.
"Duh," I grunted, putting on the most moronic smile I could muster.
She stared intently into my face. Apparently not seeing what she was looking for, she turned back to the bookcase.
That was reckless of her. Why? Because in "local time," not even a day had passed since we last saw each other. But for me, over ten years had flown by. Ten years of staying faithful to my woman without any hope of ever seeing her again, only able to look at her on posters in my room. I missed her. Besides, right now I was a "dumb animal," which meant I could get away with anything.
So, when Suo turned to the bookcase, I glided forward smoothly, pinned her against it, and let my hands roam freely over her body. No roughness, no rushing—just careful and gentle. She tried to free herself, but given the sheer difference in our physical strength, the only thing she managed to do was turn to face me.
She looked into my eyes, and I felt a touch on my mind. There was no point in imitating the Beast anymore, since my "kitty-dog" had never touched or frightened her, and without it, identifying my personality from the familiar imprint of my thoughts wasn't hard.
She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her by pressing a finger to her lips. I shushed her, and pulling my finger away, captured those lips in a kiss.
***
"So, you're alive," Suo stated as she lay against my shoulder on the soft floor of her room. "And En Sabah Nur couldn't destroy your mind."
I silently stroked her breast with the arm she was resting her head on. My other arm was tucked behind my own head. I hadn't said a single word this entire time, aside from that brief shush. I didn't speak up now, either. I didn't know what to say.
"But you died again. For the third time now. You made me worry all over again. Nur wasn't lying—you were dead for over two hours. Your heart wasn't beating. I felt it. I searched for you, but I couldn't find you because his citadel was warded against teleportation and scrying. Until Howlett called, I had no idea what to think. I was a wreck... By the way, you really scared them back there. They've never seen that side of you before."
She fell silent again, and I still didn't start talking. Why bother? I just felt good being next to her. With the Beast, or without any Beast at all.
*The choice.* Back in that moment when I was suspended between bodies, between lives. There was no choice at all. Everything had been crystal clear. Completely elementary: she was here, and she wasn't there. So what choice could there possibly be?
"Dzhugashvili is already here in Kamar-Taj," she noted. "He's waiting to meet you."
I stayed silent, not stopping my stroking.
"Are you ready for it?"
*Am I ready?* Probably. I wasn't ready at the Battle. But after my "journey," I think I am. I have no idea what awaits me, but I'm not going to run.
As it turned out, ten years in the "real" world hadn't passed without leaving a mark. They changed me more than I thought. They gave me a confidence I never had before. A sense of calm. Composure. That meant a lot.
"Aren't you going to tell me what happened to you?" Suo asked, not really expecting an answer.
Maybe I will. Someday. But not right now. I had no desire to talk right now. All I wanted was to just lie here. She sighed, but didn't press the issue.
A couple of hours later, we had to get up anyway, even though it wasn't nearly enough time. It would have been nice to lie there longer, to decompress from the mental strain of the wild, insane day that had just passed. It only *seemed* like everything had worked out easily and on its own. It hadn't. It definitely wasn't easy. Just being in the presence of a raging, maniacal vivisector capable of erasing you from reality with a single twitch of his eyebrow... No, he didn't even need to move. A thought would have sufficed. That was a serious test for anyone's psyche.
Then there was my brother, who I worried about almost more than myself, with absolutely no way to help him. And my friends, my students, whose faces I had to brutally smash into the floor just to stop the External from doing it fatally in my place, because he would have just killed them all. And then there was the woman I loved, to whom I couldn't even give the slightest sign...
I dreaded to even imagine what this day had cost Suo, and how many extra hours she'd had to cram into her twenty-four. Gathering the Observers, convincing each of them, brokering deals, organizing the X-Men and teleporting them to the site, all while outcalculating a specific External six moves ahead.
And doing all of that while being absolutely certain it was already too late, that her husband was already dead... Suo was a strong woman. But even she needed to rest and unwind after trials like that.
But we got up all the same. Using her shiny trinket, Suo rewound the hours we had spent on each other and teleported us to the New York house, where I showered, and she helped me dress and comb my hair.
When I walked up to the mirror, I almost recoiled, having not taken a good look at myself since the "transformation." Staring back at me was the canon Sabretooth. Exactly the way he was drawn in Marvel. A magnificent mane of straw-colored hair down to the middle of my back, magnificent shaggy sideburns, magnificent "wild" eyebrows, and an overall "feral" quality to my facial features that had sharpened noticeably. My fangs were even sharper than before, making any smile I gave truly "irresistible." And my gaze—even when completely neutral—practically radiated danger, menace, deceit, and sadism. I didn't know what exactly gave off that impression; maybe the shape of my eyes had changed a bit, or something else.
I'd better smile less from now on. There was no need to increase the number of stutterers and prematurely graying people around me. Yeah, playing the meek Zen Buddhist monk was going to be a bit tricky now.
The changes extended to my body as well: I was taller, reaching a little over two meters. My shoulders had broadened slightly in proportion. My musculature had "pumped up" again, though not to a catastrophic degree. My fingers were longer. Consequently, the claws hiding inside them were a bit longer, too. I also had claws on my toes now. Retractable ones, as well. I still needed to separately test my strength, speed, flexibility, reflexes, and coordination. But it was already obvious they hadn't stayed at their previous levels.
As for clothes... my entire old wardrobe was hopelessly small. It wasn't for nothing that all my clothes had cracked and burst at the seams during the "transformation," with my toes sticking out of my boots like the Wolf from *Nu, Pogodi!* But magic is an incredibly practical thing in everyday life, even if it continues to trigger a reflexive, almost insurmountable disgust in me.
After Suo's tailoring, a pair of solid brown, paramilitary-style pants fit my new physique like a glove, held up by a belt with a buckle depicting a snarling saber-toothed tiger. I wore iron-toed "cowboy" boots, a beige shirt unbuttoned at the top three buttons, and a brown, fur-lined leather jacket. The color of the fur perfectly matched the color of my hair. An aggressive look. Two days ago, I would have put on something much calmer and styled my hair to look more "human." But I was way past caring about that now, so I dressed to match my new mug and called it good.
Another portal to Kamar-Taj, and then a walk to the designated meeting spot.
There were three of them. Stalin hadn't changed his habits: he wore khaki military trousers, boots, a greatcoat without insignia over his tunic, a peaked cap, and carried his eternal pipe. A sturdy man of average height and athletic build, with a magnificent mustache, a slightly hooked nose, and slicked-back hair.
He was accompanied by two people. One was Captain Romanova, whom I had already seen at the Battle, wearing an outfit that closely resembled Ksanka's from *The Elusive Avengers*: the same black leather jacket, the same belt over the jacket with a holster attached, high boots, a skirt, and a red headscarf. I didn't recognize the second escort. He was a blond man of average height, dressed in a field officer's uniform without insignia, carrying an AKMS rifle slung over his shoulder and a full four-magazine pouch on a wide officer's belt.
"Hello, Joseph," Suo was the first to greet him when we stopped two paces away from each other.
"Hello, Teacher," he replied courteously, his famous accent having softened considerably over the years. "Hello, Comrade Creed," the complex man said, offering his hand for a shake.
I was polite and shook his hand. Neither he nor I tried to show off our strength or turn the handshake into a contest of grip strength. Just a polite handshake, nothing more.
"You were described to me somewhat differently," he noted.
I remained silent.
"A minor conflict with En Sabah Nur," Suo answered for me. "Because of him, we had to postpone the meeting by almost a day. I hope it didn't cause too much inconvenience?"
"Not at all; it's pleasant to recall my youth sometimes and visit one of my alma maters. Judging by the fact that the chaos in the world has ceased, the conflict is resolved?" he asked mildly. In general, this man spoke softly all the time, and his accent only added a certain smoothness and peculiar charm to his speech.
"Completely," Suo nodded.
He nodded back, confirming he accepted the answer and didn't intend to press the issue.
"First of all, I would like to thank you, Comrade Creed, for saving my life and for the second chance you gave me," he said. He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to me: the very half of the note I had left by the old man's bedside so many years ago. "Rest assured, I am making every effort to justify such high trust."
I took the scrap of paper from his hand and shoved it into my jacket pocket without looking. I remembered exactly what was written on it; there was no need to read it again.
"But I need your help," he said, drawing smoke from his pipe. He exhaled it slowly before continuing. "You have already met Comrade Romanova and her group. Your assessment of their training and potential was relayed to me. They are the first generation of children raised according to your methodology."
At those words, Romanova failed to "keep her face," and a mix of surprise and realization bled through her mask of impassivity. Apparently, my behavior during our first meeting finally made sense to her.
"There are three hundred of them," Joseph Vissarionovich concluded his thought.
He took another drag and blew out the smoke. But this time, the silence stretched on longer. I didn't ask anything, and Suo made no attempt to interject into this strange conversation. I suspect she didn't have the full picture of my "extracurriculars" either. She knew about the serum, sure, but she might not have known about the folder.
"I made a mistake," he finally said after some time. "The results the children showed were too good." He fell silent again. No one rushed to break the pause.
"For seven years now, all kindergartens in the Soviet Union have been operating according to your methodology. All the schools adopted it three years ago," he said, then stopped. He paused, then pushed on. "The oldest of the second generation are now eleven years old. Physically, they are already twice as strong and fast as trained adult men. They will hit puberty soon. This gift to humanity could turn into hell on earth. Have you read Comrade de Saint-Exupéry, Comrade Creed?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
All the words caught in my throat. Even if I wanted to answer, I couldn't.
He gave Romanova a slight nod, then turned away, focusing his attention on his pipe and the mountainous beauty surrounding us.
Romanova took a step forward and handed me something. I accepted it mechanically, not even really thinking about what I was taking, so overwhelmed with thoughts and derailed by the information I had just received.
It could have been a grenade from Hydra's stockpiles, and I still would have taken it at that moment. But it wasn't a grenade. In a way, it was worse than a grenade. It was a passport. A Soviet passport. I opened it. Inside was my black-and-white photo, my date of birth, my birth year—1762—and my place of birth: the town of Beauceville, Quebec, Canada. Citizenship: USSR. There was a stamp registering my marriage to Suo Creed, and my registered address was my house in the suburbs of Paris. Except, the country name wasn't "France." It was the "French ASSR." I reread the lines, thinking I might have misunderstood or misread the stamp, but no, that's exactly what it said.
I looked up at Natasha in bewilderment. She correctly interpreted my gaze.
"This morning, the plenum of the newly formed Central Committee of the Communist Party of France voted to join the USSR. The country of France officially no longer exists. There is only the French ASSR." My mouth hung open foolishly at the news. "It was extremely fortuitous that a spontaneous global renunciation of nuclear weapons occurred at the same time. Two hundred and ninety of my comrades are currently helping the Central Committee maintain order in the Republic."
I shifted my gaze to Joseph Vissarionovich. He looked back at me.
"We are very much in need of your help, Comrade Creed," he said, clarifying the entire point of the revolution and the seizure of power in a whole country with a single phrase. "Teacher," he said, saluting her with his pipe.
Considering the conversation over, he shook my hand and stepped back. Romanova also shook my hand and stepped back. Stalin gave Suo a slight bow, which she returned, and all three of them turned to leave.
And they left. About three hundred meters from our meeting spot, the two girls in camouflage with staffs—whom I recognized from the Battle—were already waiting for them.
A minute later, it was as if the guests had never been there, and I stood there like an idiot, staring at the brand-new red passport in my hands.
***
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