“What the hell is this again?”
In the corridor of the estate, Logan marched forward with Charles in his arms, looking both irritated and perplexed.
“Don’t ask.”
But Fang Mo had no intention of explaining. Waving his hand dismissively, he said, “Just keep carrying him. This is part of the plan…”
Thanks to him, word spread throughout Xavier’s School in under five minutes that Charles had suddenly beco paralyzed from the chest down. Aside from Beast (Hank), who was still in the hospital, everyone rushed over—Raven, Erik, Pietro, and even Fang Mo’s ‘All-Star’ crew and the anthropomorphized items.
“…Charles!?”
Erik and Raven, who genuinely cared about him, hurried over to check. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I…”
Charles opened his mouth, but for a mont couldn’t figure out how to explain.
“Logan, what’s going on with him, Logan-sensei?”
Suddenly, the cigar-lady sidled up, but she aid her questions at Logan, not Charles, tugging on his sleeve.
“He’s paralyzed.”
Logan took a deep breath. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Oh, maybe he fell out of a helicopter,” a tall Black man said sympathetically. “Looks like a serious accident.”
“Principal Charles, wh-what happened that made you get hurt?”
The middle-aged man dressed like a battlefield cook also asked in concern: “Do you need to make so chicken soup for you?”
“I…”
“Alright, enough small talk for now.”
Thankfully, Fang Mo intervened on Charles’s behalf. “He’s only temporarily paralyzed. It’s to take care of so business. He’ll be better soon, so there’s no need to fuss.”
Hearing their master’s words, the “all-star” group did calm down. But while they quieted, none of them left. Thus, Charles was crowded by everyone, awkwardly carried toward the second floor, where Cerebro’s doors were located.
Different from the mansion’s classical style downstairs, the area containing Cerebro had a futuristic design. The walls and floors were plated in silvery tal, bathed in a cool white light. Everything looked spotless, with a kind of minimalistic hi-tech aesthetic.
At the end of the corridor stood a heavy solid-tal blast door.
And so, in this setting, Charles was carried solemnly along. Fang Mo’s “creations,” under his orders, kept silent, lifting Charles’s immobile body like pallbearers and proceeding slowly toward the massive tal door ahead.
“Isn’t this vibe a bit off?”
Before they’d gone far, Fang Mo noticed the strange atmosphere. “Stop for a mont.”
“?”
Everyone halted at once.
Fang Mo thought for a second, then conjured a portal. He pulled out a large Arican flag from sowhere, and approached Charles.
Charles, still baffled and unable to move, just looked at Fang Mo with confusion.
“Old friend, go in peace…”
Fang Mo spoke with feigned sorrow and draped the Stars and Stripes over Charles’s body.
“???”
Charles was completely paralyzed and couldn’t move. He could only open his eyes wide in protest.
But Fang Mo, seeing that, actually lifted a hand as if to close Charles’s eyes.
Luckily, Logan couldn’t watch any longer—he snatched the flag off Charles in annoyance. “Don’t tell this is part of your plan, too!”
“Cough, cough…it just fit the mood…”
Fang Mo coughed, embarrassed.
“…”
Logan said nothing, simply glared at Fang Mo.
“Fine, fine,”
Fang Mo relented with a wave. “You’re too serious lately. We won’t keep ssing around. Hurry and get him to the Cerebro chamber.”
With that, Fang Mo pulled the flag away and handed it to the big, muscular guy next to him.
“Go make so shorts out of this—stop going around naked.”
Thus, after that brief interlude, Charles was finally carried inside the Cerebro chamber. Because he was fully paralyzed now and couldn’t stand, the bedrock golem known as “Ji Yan” stepped forward and lifted him in a single hand.
Following Charles’s directions, she lowered the tallic Cerebro helt onto his head.
“So what do you want to do?”
With the helt fitted, Charles turned to Fang Mo. “Search for that Apocalypse mutant you ntioned?”
“Right, exactly.”
Fang Mo nodded. But then, as if recalling sothing, he added, “Just do a wide-area scan for him. Sothing unexpected may happen—don’t worry, it’s all in my plan.”
“Alright.”
Charles didn’t refuse. Being paralyzed felt terrible; he wanted to get this over with.
So, with a thought, he powered up Cerebro.
This was a large, spherical chamber lined with tal sensors that received and transmitted signals. Once it was activated, the entire space seed to co alive with light. Countless projections flickered—red, white—like a miniature representation of the entire world etched onto the walls.
“My God…”
Quicksilver (Pietro) was seeing this for the first ti. He was clearly awestruck.
In fact, the “all-stars” were similarly srized. Although they were Fang Mo’s creations, they were still independent beings with their own curiosity—thus, they were just as amazed.
“I think I found him,”
the flickering images lasted a while before Charles spoke up. “There’s that guy called Apocalypse, and he’s got four strange mutants with him.”
“Oh, okay.”
Fang Mo responded, then placed a hand on the short-haired “Mǎyù Língpī Dāo” girl’s shoulder.
“Eh?”
She tilted her head, puzzled by his action, and blinked uncertainly. “…Boss?”
anwhile, Charles remained oblivious to any lurking danger, continuing to speak: “He’s got so sort of ntal barrier; I’m checking out his companions’ mories. Looks like they’re in Viet— Hang on, let see precisely where…”
He had barely begun when he suddenly stopped cold.
“Charles?”
Logan noticed at once. He leaned in. “Charles?”
“Charles?” “Old friend?”
Raven and Erik also realized sothing was amiss. In particular, Erik scanned the control panel; the readouts had turned into garbled code, and all the indicator lights flickered strangely.
“What’s going on?
Alard, they looked toward Fang Mo.
“Nothing to worry about—it’s normal,”
Fang Mo said calmly. “Just hold on. Looks like the bait’s working.”
“Bait?”
Everyone exchanged confused looks.
anwhile, half a world away at Vietnam’s border…
Within a dim, worn-down little house, Charles’s consciousness, augnted by Cerebro, had leapt across half the globe, taking control of a tattooed man’s mind. Using that man’s senses, Charles observed his surroundings.
The place was filthy, the floor stained with dried blood. Nearby, three figures sat on the floor. Further off, that odd man from the photo—Apocalypse—was perched on a huge crate, seemingly dozing.
“This is…”
Maybe because Apocalypse was overly self-assured or had never faced a real ntal threat, he didn’t notice Charles’s intrusion imdiately. So Charles locked eyes on the figure Fang Mo had ntioned, “Apocalypse.”
He definitely looked bizarre. Bluish-black skin, no hair, wearing strange armor. A powerful physique that gave off a terrifying aura. Even though Charles was only there via soone else’s body, he felt a twinge of dread.
Still, Charles wasn’t physically present. After so thought, he decided to try his telepathy. He was an Oga-level telepath, arguably unmatched on Earth; even if things went wrong, he could instantly retreat. Though normally not one for aggression, Charles was suprely confident in his own abilities.
So he extended his psychic power. His consciousness beca intangible threads, leaving the host’s body and snaking toward Apocalypse’s mind, aiming to read his mories.
But Charles never expected what happened next.
Apocalypse, who had been feigning sleep, suddenly opened his eyes!
“…!”
Charles felt a jolt of alarm. Before he could withdraw, he saw those eyes flare with a milky-white glow.
“Thank you for letting enter your mind,”
Apocalypse murmured, sounding genuinely surprised and pleased.
“My God…”
Charles felt a brand-new sensation—like sothing grabbing hold of his consciousness. Then his powers skyrocketed, surging uncontrollably.
That sudden rush was intoxicating, as though he glimpsed infinite truth—shock, joy, awe, delight… all those emotions slamd together. In such euphoria, Charles’s own thinking slowed to a crawl.
“Ooh, this power~”
Back in Cerebro’s chamber, Charles moaned. A strange smile, both dull and intoxicated, spread across his face. He stared blankly into the air, transfixed.
“I… I’ve never felt such might before!”
With those words, the environnt changed drastically. The red holo-projections turned purple, and that purple hue spread, swallowing every sensor in the space.
“Charles?”
Sensing sothing was very wrong, the crowd looked on anxiously. Even though Fang Mo had warned them, Logan leaned down and patted Charles’s face. “Hey! Snap out of it! Don’t say nonsense—there’s no power stronger than that damned would-be ‘god’ we’ve got here!”
“Ha… hahaha…”
Charles only gave a maniacal laugh, like soone who’d completely lost it—like a Vtuber fan who was beyond reason, unhearing of human words.
And then, a terrifying psychic force burst from Charles. Cerebro channeled it. All over the world, missile-silo operators and submarine crews went blank. Almost in unison, they pushed the button.
So across the globe, countless nuclear warheads were launched. Sirens scread, and missiles streaked skyward, finally breaching the outer atmosphere. The prized weapons that nations had fought so hard to develop now drifted among the space junk orbiting Earth.
Of course, no one here knew that. They were still fixated on Charles’s imdiate condition inside Cerebro.
“Charles!”
Seeing his odd behavior, Raven rushed over and grabbed the Cerebro helt, trying to yank it off. Yet pulling with all her might, she found that it seed lded to his head—it wouldn’t budge.
“What…?”
Raven looked at Erik. “Erik, I can’t get it off!”
“I’ll do it,”
Erik said, activating his magnetic powers. A huge force tore at the helt, making Charles’s neck creak alarmingly. But it was like Charles’s scalp had fused with the device—he didn’t budge.
“Stop pulling!”
Logan yelled, seeing Charles’s head about to be torn off. “You’ll rip his head clean off!”
“…What the hell is this?”
Erik turned to Fang Mo with a scowl. “Explain yourself, please!”
“No need.”
At that mont, Fang Mo jerked around sharply, picking up the “Mǎyù Língpī Dāo” catgirl in weapon form. “Brace yourselves—Apocalypse is coming for the little ‘present’ I prepared for him.”
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