I woke up on the beach, the coarse sand beneath me contrasting sharply with the searing pain that shot through my body. As I blinked away the disorientation, I took in the state of myself – burn marks crisscrossed my skin, and my swim trunks clung on by a thread, barely preserving my modesty. 'Well, thank goodness for small blessings,' I thought with a wry twist of my lips.
Raising my hand, I gazed up at the star-studded night sky, its vastness offering a strange comfort amid the chaos. My mutter escaped almost involuntarily, "Sentinels, huh?" The realization had already been creeping at the edges of my mind.
The so-called anti-mutant weapon Kelly and Shaw had been cooking up had to be Project Sentinel. It was a hypothesis that had slithered its way into my thoughts earlier. Yet, though suspicions were strong, my grasp on concrete evidence was feeble. So, I had chosen to keep this fragment of deduction to myself, away from the ears of the X-Men.
Struggling to my feet, I gritted my teeth as the searing pain from my injuries shot through me, each twinge a stark reminder of the fierce battle that had just unfolded. I refused to let it show on my face, though. As far as injuries go, I don't recall ever being this gravely wounded before, but it was a mere blip on the radar, a temporary inconvenience.
With the Extremis Serum coursing through my veins, my body was knitting itself back together at a visible rate. Soon enough, I'd be good as new.
As I took a steadying breath, my gaze shifted to the moonlit horizon, a sense of calm settling over me. It was moments like these when my mind had a tendency to wander, contemplating the lessons life had taught me. The pain I was experiencing right now was just a reminder that I was still alive and fighting.
My thoughts circled back to the battle as I observed its aftermath, the gigantic crater left in the wake of the machine's self-destruction. To think that one sentinel unit that had managed to lay me low was alarming, to say the least.
If I had my trusty knife and gun at my side, I might have been able to turn the tide more decisively, but that was neither here nor there. Such was the nature of conflict – unpredictable and unforgiving.
With a shake of my head, I couldn't help but acknowledge that this was how the Marvel universe worked. There was always something – or someone – stronger, always a new challenge to overcome. It was a hard lesson I'd learned in the past at a great price.
By the time Nightcrawler teleported everyone back to the resort island, I had already healed most of my exterior wounds. There was no need to burden my students or Ororo with worry over my well-being.
I couldn't help but be mindful of their concern, though, as Ororo quickly made her way to my side upon our return. Her eyes scanned my body, searching for any lingering injuries as if she could glean information through a mere glance. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with both relief and a hint of urgency.
With a reassuring smile, I nodded in response. "I'm quite alright. How about you and the students? Everyone unharmed?" The welfare of my students always came first, and their safety was my paramount concern. My attention shifted to Nightcrawler, my inquiry directed at him. "Did you manage to get everyone out in time?"
Nightcrawler's indigo skin seemed to relax as he nodded affirmatively. "Ja, ve all made it vitout injuries," he confirmed. However, a shadow of concern lingered in his yellow eyes as he continued, "But I didn't have time to teleport you avay..."
A dismissive wave of my hand accompanied my words. "Don't concern yourself with that. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine." The Extremis Serum coursing through my veins had worked wonders, expediting the healing process. My exterior wounds were almost entirely gone, leaving no evidence of the intense battle we'd just endured that could be discerned with the naked eye.
Turning my attention to the group, I addressed them with a reassuring smile. "The most important thing is that everyone made it out without injuries. It was a collective effort that had brought the demise of the sentinel machine, a testament to the hard work of my students.
Before any of them could respond, a sudden interruption came in the form of Ororo's bracelet. A vibrant buzz emanated from it, illuminating her wrist in pulsating light. The urgency of the situation was palpable, and I exchanged a knowing glance with Ororo. Someone was attempting to contact her, and it was likely tied to the events that had just unfolded.
Ororo's acceptance of the call triggers Wolverine's voice to emanate from the bracelet. "Storm? Where the hell have you been?! We've been trying to reach you!"
The unmistakable sounds of explosions reverberate in the background as he speaks, a clear indication of the turmoil on the other end. Before Ororo can respond, Wolverine's voice barrels on, a sense of urgency in his words. "Forget about that for now! Get your ass back to the mansion pronto, we're under attack!"
The transmission is punctuated by a particularly deafening blast, and the call abruptly terminates. A resigned sigh escapes me as I murmur, "Right..." Casting a glance toward Ororo, I continue, "You take the students and get back to the mansion. I'll catch up soon enough."
Ororo's brows knit in concern, her voice tinged with worry, "Are you seriously injured?"
A chuckle escaped my lips as I retorted, "I'm not injured enough to lounge around while others are in the thick of it." I elaborate, "Another one of those machines is bound to come this way sooner or later..."
The attack on the X-Mansion was likely orchestrated by the same malevolent force responsible for the machine I just faced. Capturing one of those machines intact, as much as possible, was crucial for analysis and strategizing.
Ororo's intelligence was evident, and she didn't need my words to grasp my intentions of engaging with the next machine that appeared. Nonetheless, a crease of concern formed on her brow as she voiced her question, "What exactly do you intend to do?"
My reply came with a nonchalant shrug, "We need an intact machine for analysis to uncover their vulnerabilities."
If one machine had been developed, it inevitably raised the question: had its creator, whoever they might be, constructed not just one, but potentially a dozen or a hundred of these monstrous sentinels?
In the face of this threat, it was clear that the X-Men couldn't rely on their individual strengths and teamwork alone. A single machine had already proven to be a a hnadful, capable of inflicting substantial damage to five powerful mutants. The prospect of confronting a multitude of these mechanical monsters was a daunting challenge that demanded careful preparation and strategic insight.
For the X-men to even stand a chance against, knowledge was necessary. We needed to understand these machines inside and out, probing their weaknesses and figuring out the limits of their adaptability.
Survival wasn't a certainty; it was contingent on our capacity to turn the tide. To face a swarm of these machines without insight into their vulnerabilities would be a grave mistake.
The worry lines on Ororo's forehead deepened as she countered, her concern evident in her tone, "And you plan to tackle this alone? Even with all of us here, we barely managed to take it down."
A confident smile played on my lips as I assured her, "I wasn't ready for a fight earlier. Rest assured, I'll be well-prepared when the next one comes knocking."
I was by no means boasting. So long as I knew the location of the machine's power source, which I already did thanks to Kitty's efforts, I could take it down on my own. And if I had my gun and knife with me, I could even incapacitate it without rendering it useless.
However, despite my attempt at reassurance, it was clear that my words had done little to mute her concerns. Nevertheless, as I locked eyes with her, a reassuring smile gracing my lips, I spoke those two simple words, "Trust me." In response, all she could manage was a nod, her worry clear on her expression.
Ororo's focus shifted gracefully to the group of students clustered nearby. With a sense of authority, she turned her attention to Kurt, her tone confident and steady as she issued her command, "Kurt, take us back to the mansion."
...
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