“Cha… Charles, are you okay?”
Seeing him suddenly jump up, the TV station crew looked baffled. One of them asked, “What’s wrong, sir?”
“Um…”
That question pulled Charles back to his senses.
Right—this was still in the middle of recording an interview program. Thankfully, it wasn’t live. Otherwise, his embarrassing reaction just now would have been broadcast on major networks across the US.
“I-It’s nothing.”
Charles forced a nervous little laugh. “Sorry, I just thought I saw a spider. I’m…a little afraid of bugs…”
“Oh, really?”
The production staff eyed him curiously. They sensed sothing was off, but still nodded cooperatively. “Don’t worry; we’ll edit that part out later.”
“Thank you so much.”
Charles breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let’s pick up where we left off,”
the blonde reporter said with a nod. “So… Mr. Erik, was it? You were just saying that we’ll all beco mutants. What exactly does that an?”
“Well…”
“It’s all thanks to the X-gene!”
Erik—but actually Fang Mo in disguise—spoke up confidently before Charles could answer.
“The X-gene?”
The blonde reporter followed his lead. “Mr. Charles ntioned that earlier, sothing about it being mysterious. Could you explain it in more detail?”
“…!”
Charles grew worried the mont Fang Mo hijacked the topic.
As ntioned, this interview was extrely important. If handled properly, his dream of peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans might actually co true. Determined not to let Fang Mo derail the discussion, Charles uncharacteristically steeled himself and tried to reclaim control:
“Um, well, I—”
But he barely spoke a word before his eyes went wide with alarm.
Because Fang Mo had just pulled out a bloody wooden stick.
“Mr. Charles?”
The blonde reporter, missing these details, turned toward him at once. “Was there sothing you wanted to add?”
“N-no, not at all!”
Charles hurriedly shook his head, all the courage he’d mustered instantly gone. “Erik here is the expert… Why don’t you ask him, please!”
“…Alright,”
Everyone’s eyes returned to “Erik.”
But seeing the stained wooden stick in his hand—covered with dark-red splotches that looked suspiciously like blood—the whole crew froze.
“Yes, indeed—I’m quite the expert on this,”
Fang Mo/“Erik” said, noting their looks. He strolled over to a nearby blackboard, picked up so chalk, and began sketching.
Before long, he’d drawn two stick figures.
“Everyone, please look. These represent humans and mutants,”
Fang Mo began, pointing the wooden stick at the two little figures on the board. “The X-gene is a recessive gene lying dormant in all human bodies. It doesn’t do anything. Actually, there are plenty of genes like that, sort of like redundant files in a computer system.” R𝙖ƝÖ₿Ε𝙨
“But,”
he continued, “once a recessive X-gene becos active, that’s when a human becos a mutant.”
“So, basically a genetic mutation?”
the reporter asked.
“Ahem, calling it a ‘mutation’ might be a bit disrespectful,”
Fang Mo coughed lightly. “This isn’t so disease—it’s part of a greater trend of human evolution. So people assu humans haven’t evolved in ages, but the truth is that evolution never stops. As far as I know, the mutant population is growing. Since there isn’t yet a formal term for this phenonon, I personally call it… an ‘Awakening.’”
“Awakening?”
So of the staff exchanged glances.
“Yes, awakening is truly a wonderful thing,”
Fang Mo said, continuing to draw on the blackboard—so abstract scrawl no one else could decipher, though he gestured like it was perfectly aningful. “Mutants generally develop special abilities—maybe heightened strength or speed, generating ice, firing lasers, telepathy, tal manipulation…”
“Hank is the perfect example,”
he went on. “He’s gained a beast-like power and saved over a hundred people. He’s surely a hero… and frankly, the world needs heroes like that, don’t you think? Every kid wants to beco a cool hero soday.”
“But besides heroes…”
Fang Mo spun back around, hands spread wide:
“If human evolution is an unstoppable trend, then imagine our potential after that evolution.”
“If soone can spew fire, let them fire up a boiler…”
He noticed the reporter looking confused but kept on: “Granted, that may sound strange, but consider how much coal it could save—hugely cutting harmful emissions. For just ten percent of our current coal budget, you could hire a single worker to ‘manually ignite the boiler,’ and you’d protect the environnt, too!”
“Likewise, if soone can create ice, then we could go skiing even in sumr—what a treat, and a great parent-child bonding experience!”
“Laser beams? Put them to use in heavy industry—cutting, welding, lasers can do a lot…”
“Telepaths are basically born psychiatrists. With them helping people process negative feelings, the world would see far fewer criminals!”
“Uh…”
At this point, the blonde reporter was a bit at a loss. Indeed, this perspective was so…random. She’d anticipated, from governnt briefings, that they’d fra mutants as heroic saviors. But this was more about cheap solutions for industrial overhead, which might delight the capitalists—they certainly love cutting costs. But was this angle going to sell to the general Arican public?
Still, Fang Mo kept going.
“Even —Erik Lehnsherr—”
He patted his chest. “I really want to find a job that suits !”
“Huh?”
The blonde reporter blinked. “…What kind of job do you think would suit you, Mr. Erik?”
“Oh, there are all sorts,”
Fang Mo grinned. “I can manipulate magnetic fie—er, well, I was nerfed, so I can just control tal now. But that’s good enough for mining, slting, talwork, heavy engineering. Given my personal experiences, I wholeheartedly believe the powers of mutants stem from the power of ‘love.’”
“The power of love?”
She stared in confusion.
“I’ll never forget my mother,”
Fang Mo said with intense emotion. “If it weren’t for her, I’d never have realized I was a mutant. Isn’t that proof our powers co from love?”
“Uhh…”
“So I plan to use that love to benefit the entire world!”
Fang Mo declared, waving a hand dramatically. “If the governnt allows it, I hope they’ll build a huge tal turbine and let spin it with my powers to generate electricity. It’ll be the cleanest, most perfect energy source in existence—love-powered electricity!”
Charles covered his face in despair, unable to bear it.
He knew these details. Erik had awakened his powers when Sebastian Shaw murdered his mother. Fang Mo’s twisted explanation was just too dark.
Plus, Charles was starting to see why Fang Mo had proposed that Erik beco Secretary of Energy… The whole thing was just too off-the-wall to imagine how the real Erik would react if he learned about it.
Not only Charles—everyone else was equally dumbfounded.
Eventually, the blonde reporter laughed awkwardly. “Mr. Erik, that’s quite the dream. I’m sure it’ll co true soday…”
“Let’s hope so,”
Fang Mo said, shrugging. He continued tapping the blackboard.
“The X-gene is full of unknowns.”
“That leads to all sorts of crazy abilities—regeneration, teleportation, flight, spikes, transforming into a frog, weather control…”
“Wait, turning into a frog…? That’s—”
“But do you understand what controlling the weather implies?”
Fang Mo pressed on, ignoring her confusion. “It ans no more droughts or scorching sumrs. Tornadoes? Gone. We could literally manage everything. Humanity’s next step in evolution…would be a tamorphosis from man to god, ruling the planet!”
“Moreover, it belongs to all mankind,”
Fang Mo added, pulling out a research report. “Every human being has the X-gene, so in theory, anyone can beco a mutant. My friends…we’re on the brink of an era where everyone’s a hero!”
“So… how exactly do we activate the X-gene?”
soone from the crew asked curiously.
“At the mont, we’re not sure.”
Fang Mo spread his hands. “We’re researching it, but we have leads. I suspect it won’t be long before the governnt develops a serum that triggers the X-gene, and then everyone could beco superhuman…”
“Wow, that’s quite a future,”
the blonde reporter breathed in awe.
“Of course, all that’s just speculation about mutants and the future,”
Fang Mo pivoted abruptly, voice turning grave. “Right now, we mutants are in serious danger…because soone’s evil hands are out to destroy us!”
“Huh?”
She blinked. “Who?”
“A madman. A terrifying racist who’s capturing us all for inhumane experints. He wants us wiped out.”
Fang Mo’s tone grew furious. “His na is Bolivar—he’s a scientist. Many of us were already persecuted or ostracized for being different, and now, just as we find a ho to belong, this devil is hunting us down. His ambition is to exterminate all mutants!”
“Ah?”
The blonde reporter was taken aback. “But Mr. Erik, by your logic, more and more humans are destined to beco mutants, right?”
“Yes.”
Fang Mo instantly latched onto that. “So what he really wants to eliminate isn’t just us mutants—it’s the entire future of the human race.”
“…!”
The cara crew looked rattled.
“Maybe you wouldn’t react if he killed today, because you yourselves aren’t mutants,”
Fang Mo went on. “But if this is truly the path of human evolution, you too will beco mutants soday… And when Bolivar starts hunting you, then what?”
“What?”
The color drained from their faces.
“Mr. Erik, if—”
The blonde reporter was about to continue, but just then the doors were flung open. Logan ca in looking bewildered, leading a group of people in black suits.
“What’s going on?”
Charles gasped.
“Hello, we’re with the FBI,”
said one of the black-suited n, who seed a bit rushed. He scanned the room, then asked, “Is Mr. Fang Mo here?”
“Uh…”
Charles froze on the spot. He instinctively glanced at “Erik,” wearing a strange expression. He had no idea what was going on—had Fang Mo’s questionable personal life been exposed?
“Charles, have you seen Fang Mo?”
Logan spoke up with equal confusion. “I sent him to call you earlier—where’d he go?”
“Ahem,”
Fang Mo finally said, “Charles, could you pause it for a sec?”
Charles obligingly used his telepathy to freeze the filming. The cara operator halted the recording, and everyone in the TV crew seed to pause in place.
“I’m right here.”
Under Logan’s stunned gaze, Fang Mo released his disguise, reverting to his normal appearance. “You were looking for ?”
“Mr. Fang Mo, the President asked us to find you,”
the black-suited n replied. They exchanged a surprised look upon seeing him revert but didn’t remark on it further, swiftly explaining, “Bolivar left the country with his research. We had people tracking him, but…”
“It seems he found so kind of monster in Egypt.”
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