His hands were throbbing.
It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling.
But for the first time, he was beginning to feel the strength within his body, a part of himself that he had always known was there but held deep within himself in fear of what he could do. He was a Mutant after all, one lucky enough to be loved by his parents and praised by the people around him, yet Hank had always been afraid of truly letting loose that instinct within him.
Upon seeing his parents, trapped and terrified, bruises upon their faces and held captive by a madman, Hank had been unable to keep that instinct restrained. The power within his body, the unnatural muscular composition of his body fully showcased its true potential in a single moment in which he saw nothing but red.
Armour forged of wrought steel bent and dented.
Flesh bruised a dark purple and black.
Bones breaking upon impact, shattering like glass.
All the while, Hank remained there, arms raised like an ape, ready to bring its arms down upon its prey for one final finishing blow. It was that moment, when hot, red blood dashed upon his cheeks, dripping from his hands that Hank awoke from his rage to look upon the damage he had done. That was when he truly becomes aware of how dangerous he could be, how much damage he could inflict upon a normal person, and how weak and defenceless they were before him.
It was a terrifying thing to behold.
"..nk." His mother's voice was out of focus, just upon the edges of his mind as his ears were filled with a constant ringing that was rising in tempo. "…an…" Only then for them all to be rocked to their feet, crying out in shock as the building they were in shock violently, the sound of an explosion erupting outwards making them all reflexively curl in on themselves.
"Mom!" Hank called, suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings, tearing his gaze away from the body of the Conquistador to look around the room. "Dad!" Quickly his eyes darted, looking at the trio of bodies crouched on the floor, Amelia helping his parents to their feet. "Are you okay?" He asked urgently, rushing to help them to their feet, trying hard to ignore the bruises upon their cheek as to find any other sign of injuries, new or old.
"We're fine." His dad replied, placing one hand upon Hank's tensed shoulders. "We're both fine."
Unable to stop himself upon hearing those words, Hank went to pull them in tight, only to hesitate, his mind replaying the images of the damage he had inflicted upon the Conquistador earlier. Only for his mother to pull him in close, hugging him tightly as his father joined in moments later, both letting him know they were there for him, no matter what.
Yet it was only a brief moment.
The building was struck once more by an explosion that nearly threatened to send them all to the floor.
"It's time we go." Amelia replied, cutting into the family moment.
"Right." Hank nodded his head firmly. "Follow me." He ignored the protests of his parents, rushing to the door that opened automatically, still running on power though doing so slowly.
Peeking his head around the corner, Hank checked the corridors to make sure they were empty before exiting outside, taking point as they moved, ready to fight whatever came their way. His parents had already been attacked and captured once, he was not about to let it happen a second time, not when he was here and willing to defend them with his life.
However, even he was not prepared for the sight that greeted them as they neared the entrance.
It was unlike anything he had seen before.
Something in a similar vein to the fights between the Fantastic Four and their many foes.
Almost like the action movies showcasing the exploits of the Invaders during World War 2 as they fought against the Nazis.
Except this was real and right before his eyes.
Not a bunch of actors playing a dramatised role and going off a script.
Not the shaky recording that was taken on someone's phone as they foolishly risked their lives to catch a snippet of the heroes in action.
The large, behemoth of a figure came bounding down the corridor, head bowed low with horns protruding from his head ready to skewer his target. As he came closer, each step shaking the ground and echoing throughout like artillery fire, he twisted his body. The lithe and small figure that stood before him though did not cower, nor did he falter, he moved almost as if on instinct, not even looking upon the large figure that came down upon him. Instead, just gracefully jumped backwards, feet barely leaving the floor as he avoided the large body that twisted with impossible agility to come back around.
Only to be struck by a beam of red energy that smashed into his body violently.
The man cried out, hand extended in an attempt to shield himself as he skidded backwards.
But he remained rooted to the floor, firm and steady as he fought against the beam of energy, taking one powerful step forward, yet the beam cut out suddenly. With no prior warning and suddenly faced without resistance, the man stumbled forwards off-balance, a second beam striking against the ankle of his unsteady foot, blasting it off the ground.
The man fell forwards, landing face first into the ground while the comparatively small figure of Scott turned, firing numerous blasts in rapid succession and the numerous objects thrown his way. They ranged from blocks of concrete to stone, to metal, to trees and even too many other things, all thrown with incredible speed and varied accuracy from another large and bulky figure.
Yet each blast Scott fired was done so with pinpoint accuracy, destroying the trees, stones and concrete.
But when it came to every bit of metal, thin or bulky, he altered its trajectory, aiming for two individuals in particular.
One was the first foe, the second being a third figure, wielding two large hammers, the suit he wore in tatters around his waist leaving an unnaturally pale torso on show. Yet the metal shower did nothing to halt the approach of this new foe, they just bounced off his skin leaving no more than thin cuts as he charged towards Scott, a fourth, one with a strange crystalline figure hiding behind him.
That was when a hand dragged Hank back behind cover, looking upon Amelia and his parents. "Hold onto me," Amelia whispered, extending both hands out.
"What about Cyclops?" Amelia shook her head in response. "Are we not going to help him?"
"You would only get in his way." She was curt in her reply, ensuring there was no room for argument in a time as trying as this. "I've seen S-Cyclops, do some impressive things, impossible things in fact. Believe me, he will be able to handle this and right now, he's more than likely buying us time to get out of here." Though Amelia wasn't certain of that, Scott had let slip a few hints here and there that he was wary of truly unleashing everything he had.
He didn't have full control over them and so, a meticulous planner like Scott would not use everything he had until he was certain they were not within the firing line nor at risk of being caught in the aftereffects. Staying here would only mean drawing out this fight further and from what Scott had said upon the train, he was already at a disadvantage and the longer this fight dragged out, the worse his situation became.
The best way she could help him was not by getting involved.
Instead, it was to get herself and everyone here out of the way and to make sure he knew it.
That way, he could cut loose.
Making sure everyone was connected, Amelia closed her eyes, evening her breathing and focusing on trying to block out the sounds and ignore the aftershocks of Scott's battle as best as she could. It was by no means a small feat, though turning others into mist like herself was not an unfamiliar aspect of her powers, it was one she had done on many occasions, especially during her time in the Middle East. However, doing it under such conditions within these circumstances was and it was tiring, not so much physically, but instead mentally and she felt it.
Slowly though, she felt the familiar sensation of her body dissipating into mist, but this was easy, it was what followed that was difficult. After all, this aspect of her powers was something she was very familiar with, just as easy to her as it was to breathe and walk. There was no conscious thought or effort required to keep her body from blowing away in the wind, instead moving and flowing along it.
Yet for the likes of Hank and his parents, this was a surreal and terrifying thing to find happening to their bodies.
As a result, to ensure they didn't blow away, Amelia had to wrap the mist of her body around the mist of the trio, acting as a cocoon within her as they moved, breezing out towards the entrance. It wasn't as easy as it sounded though, the battle between the superpowered foes was a dangerous thing, even when one was entirely made up of mist. Most possessed enough strength that each one of their punches produced powerful shockwaves that had enough strength to uproot trees, even when not colliding with anything other than air.
Scott masterfully avoided them all, but also a fan of using his opponents as punching bags for one another, their blows smashing into one another as they got in each other's way. The aftershocks even more dangerous and powerful when met with resistance causing Amelia on a few occasions to nearly lose one or all of the people she was protecting.
But at the end of the day, Amelia focused everything she had to keep the cocoon in shape until she finally reached the outdoors, away from the combat behind her. She, Hank and his parents materialising once more further down the hill, Amelia looking back up just in time to see a large blast of red energy to burst from out the side of the building. Even though she couldn't see it, Amelia knew that at least one or more of Scott's foes would have been caught within the depths of that beam, he wouldn't have fired it otherwise.
'End it now, Scott.' She thought to herself.
There had been far too much happening in the short span of a week, Scott having been caught dead centre in the middle of it. Amelia had simply been along for the ride and she needed a break simply from that alone, Scott had been at the centre of it all and while he had handled himself masterfully, there was only so much one could do before they burned themselves out. He wasn't going to stray from the path he was walking upon, she doubted anyone would be able to sway him from it and nothing that stood in his way would deter him. But not even Scott could handle everything coming at him all at once, not without breaking under the pressure and though she didn't like the path he was going down, she would at the very least make sure he didn't get himself into more harm.
Scott needed a break.
Some time to collect his thoughts and let his mind and body relax from the tension of battle.
If he didn't, his life would go by him without Scott ever had a chance to experience it.
That was the last thing someone like Scott, who had gone through what he had, needed.