The moon was high in the sky, clouds nowhere in sit letting it bathe the world below in its light, creating an almost ethereal glow. Yet Hank only felt sick to his stomach, heart pounding heavily and blood rushing to his ears as he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly to calm his nerves.
The nerves only grew worse as he approached the structure before him.
It was hidden well by the forest and hills surrounding Dunfee, the large concrete and metal structure that looked entirely out of place in such a rich green environment. Men patrolling the tops and the ground surrounding, each noticing his presence as he broke through the foliage and approached them.
They moved to surround him, with weapons, swords and spears including crossbows and arquebuses rather than modern weaponry, a strange thing for sure. 'But just as Cyclops described.' He noted, feeling a little more comfortable that there were no modern guns in sight, yet the arrowheads did make him feel a little nervous. There was no guarantee that he could avoid them and if they did hit, it could be the end of him, same with a bullet.
Yet the doors then opened, just as Hank came to a stop, almost fully surrounded by armed men. From the building, came an extravagantly dressed man in a green and yellow outfit with a blue cape billowing out behind him.
When compared to how the others were dressed and the way they parted for him, Hank could only assume that this was the leader of these men. 'The note at my parent's house said that their leader was called the Conquistador. This must be him.' Thinking back to the wreck that had been his parent's home, Hank could only assume that his parents had resisted their kidnappers, but had failed in the end.
If they had resisted, there was a possibility of them being hurt and while Mist had revealed herself as a trained doctor, it didn't make Hank feel any better.
It didn't quell the anger that boiled within him in the slightest.
These were the people that attack him.
These were the people that attacked and captured his parents.
Just the sight of these men made Hank want to fight, to let loose all his strength and fight with everything he had. But more and more people were coming, clearly, the Conquistador had assumed that Hank might attack him and was bringing his people out.
'But not enough to leave my parents undefended.' That was something Cyclops had stressed when they planned this. 'I must wait for the signal. Then the Conquistador's mine.' Though Hank fought with himself to stick to the plan, he managed to appease that part of him that wanted nothing more than to tear these people apart with the reminder that he would be able to get his hands on Conquistador personally.
"I'm here; like you asked." Hank spat out, fists clenching tightly, knuckles cracking and turning white in an attempt to restrain his rage. "Now take me to my parents, I won't do anything until I know they're okay."
"..." The Conquistador looked a little displeased at not being able to speak first or give some grandiose speech, but he acquiesced. "Right this way, Hank McCoy. I can assure you, besides an unfortunate bruise here and there, your parents are perfectly fine."
-X-
Crossing his arms over his chest, Scott leaned against the tree, watching as Hank followed Conquistador and his men inside. The guards remaining outside were few, almost a skeleton crew, making his job all the easier.
"Give it a few more minutes, then we move." Scott told Amelia, who nodded her head.
"I'll try Logan again."
The mention of the man made Scott frown. "He won't do anything he doesn't want to." Scott told her for what felt like the hundredth time. "If he hasn't turned up now or let you know he's on his way then he won't be coming. Besides, we, don't need him for this, they have nothing dangerous and from the looks of the guards outside, they have little training. Probably nothing more than thugs and men with far too much time on their hands and far too much imagination."
It was often the case for the earlier villains like the Conquistador.
Extravagant, sometimes flamboyant figures with illusions of grandeur and very little talent or power to back up what they were saying. From what he was seeing, the Conquistador was probably a historian or something along those lines, the type of person who believed that medieval society was the superior age of human history. The type that believes modern technology and weaponry could be overcome by medieval weaponry.
They were not entirely wrong, but the thing was, in order to pull off such a feat, one needed extreme levels of training or superpowers.
Things that neither Conquistador nor his men possessed.
'Which is probably why he wants to get ahold of Hank and then possibly other Mutants in the future.' Scott thought to himself, before dismissing the train of thought entirely. "I'm moving now, wait till I've entered inside and then move."
"Scott." Amelia said, he paused momentarily to look over his shoulder. "Be careful."
Giving her a wave, but saying nothing, Scott broke through the foliage and walked calmly towards the entrance to Conquistador's base. 'They still haven't noticed me.' Further proof that these men would be of no trouble to him at all, Scott wasn't even attempting to hide his approach and he was already closing in.
"Hey!"
Someone finally noticed.
Yet Scott had already locked onto his target, those upon the tops wielding crossbows and a few arquebuses. Eyes glowing red he took aim and fired, the Optic Blasts smashing into the concrete battlements and tearing through it like a hot knife through butter. Stone and concrete broke apart under the impact, collapsing to the ground below and the archer's position up top fell down along with them.
He then rushed forwards, a dozen men patrolling the ground by the entrance rushing towards him.
Two were aiming their arquebuses at him.
Two wielded lances.
Another two wielded halberds.
The remaining six drawing their swords as they stood protecting their long-range fighters.
It was all meaningless though.
As Scott parried one lance thrust to the side, leaning his head slightly to avoid the thrust of the other, he slipped past the two men only to run into the halberd wielders. One swung down, and another came from the side, yet he staggered his speed just slightly, both weapons missing him by inches. Then Scott burst forwards passing by the two with ease, both still trying to slow the arcs of their weapons and regain their footing to be able to stop his movements.
The six swordsmen then stood in his way, but Scott had his eyes focused on the arquebus wielders. Though the weapons were by no means accurate, in a way that made them more dangerous as predictive analysis would not work.
Even though Scott could see the trajectory of where they were aiming, the bullets fired from arquebuses would not necessarily follow that trajectory.
So, they needed to be dealt with first.
Planting his foot firmly, Scott leapt into the air, planting one foot on the face of a guard and using it as a platform, pushed himself higher up. There, he had a clear view of the ground below him, Optic Blasts lancing out and drilling the men into the floor, their arquebuses flying helplessly in the sky, slipping from their grasp.
Landing with a roll, Scott turned to see the other guards all staring at him, not quite sure as to what had just happened. 'So, this is their skill level?' Scott wondered to himself, finally having all the information he needed, cracking his neck. 'Then using them to improve my battle awareness and skills is uncessary.'
Perhaps if they had been trained like the guards at Oscrop, Scott might have found the challenge good enough to purposefully limit himself. As he had decided long ago, these earlier challenges would be excellent ways to push himself to the limits and improve his skills to even higher degrees than what Cyclops had ever achieved.
However, the Conquistador and his men were nobodies.
Eyes glowing red, Scott fired out his Optic Blasts, blasting the ten armed men back down the hill, before turning back to the door. An even stronger blast fired out then, blowing open the doors and sending an alarm sounding throughout the building.
They might have proved an excellent source of training for Warren, Hank, Bobby and Jean, but for him, they provided nothing of worth. All that he needed to do now was clean up this mess before the possibility of unexpected variables increased.
Because, as Scott had learned from studying Cyclops' memories, the longer a fight dragged on, the more likely unexpected variables were to appear.
-X-
"Sir, we're being attacked!" One man shouted, Conquistador, spinning around quickly, glaring at the man.
"I can tell that you fool!" He roared angrily, turning his back upon Hank who was gazing upon his bound and unconscious parents. "Quickly, mobilise all our men and get rid of the intruder." Yet, having turned his back upon them, Conquistador didn't see the mist falling from the ceiling and seeping into the room where the hostages were being kept.
Hank did though and as the guard rushed out of the room, it just left him and Conquistador alone. Taking full advantage of this, Hank grabbed hold of the Conquistador's cape and as every muscle in his body tensed up, throw the man across the room.
But he was far from done.
With a shout, Hank leapt after Conquistador, far from satisfied with just that and came down upon the man, both hands raised above his head and coming down in a devastating double hammer strike. It smashed into the Conquistador's breastplate, denting the metal and no doubt breaking numerous ribs from the way he cried out silently, gasping for air.
Yet, as Hank raised his hands up over his head to bring them down a second time, he paused.
The man was unconscious, breath raspy and struggling for air.
He had caused that.
Letting his fists uncurl, Hank's arms dropped to his sides, getting to his feet slowly to see Amelia having unbound his parents and checking over them. The Conquistador was defeated and there was no need for him to go further, that was not the type of person he was.
-X-
Unknown variables.
They truly were surprising and unwanted things.
Frowning deeply, Scott looked over his shoulder as he stared at the three figures standing at the entrance of the Conquistador's base.
Tombstone.
Blockbuster.
Prism.
Yet, he backpedalled quickly, putting even further distance between himself and the fourth who was currently pulling himself from the wall he had charged into. Scott had barely been able to avoid the figure in time, but as he felt a twinge in his arm, Scott winced slightly at the stabbing pain.
He did not succeed unscathed.
'It's not broken.' That was certainly a relief, but Scott frowned heavily, a small bead of sweat dribbling down his cheek. 'But just a glancing hit from any of them and it will be.' This was not like the time on the train, this was so much worse than that.
He had only felt confident in defeating Blockbuster thanks to the fact that he just needed to knock him off the train. Yet on solid ground in this situation, Scott was far from confident in being able to defeat him.
Nor did he know the limits of Tombstone's energy-absorbing power.
Prism was the only one Scott felt confident in beating, the only advantage that he had in this fight. Yet the man in question would be much more aware of this fact and using him, in the same way, would also be much harder to accomplish.
Yet it was the fourth figure that made this whole thing so much worse.
"Finally!" The man roared, one large horn protruding from his head with a smaller one positioned slightly behind it. "I've been waiting for this moment!" Large muscles bulged and rippled as he turned, just the placement of his feet making the ground shake, blackened armoured skin clashing with the light grey on other parts of his body.
The final addition to this group.
One much faster than when he first fought them.
One who had probably received some sort of augmentation like Tombstone had done.
Rhino.