Cyclops paced around the mission briefing room as he heard out my telling of what had happened out in the field. He never stopped me once, even when I paused at moments where I figured he'd want to offer some kind of input. He simply heard me out until I got to the point where we received a ride out of there.
I couldn't blame him, really. I'd only wanted him to say anything because I needed some feedback on how we'd handled the situation. There was a lot to unpack from what had happened.
"Fault Zone and Brigade," Cyclops said, more to himself than to me, "I've never heard of them before. Two new superpowered individuals."
I sat in for the meeting shirtless with an ice pack taped to my shoulder, "Well, one," I corrected for the sake of accuracy, "I'm pretty sure whatever's left of that Brigade guy isn't getting back up."
His eyebrow quirked upward, "You know, I noticed that," He said wryly.
I was quick to deflect before anything could be blamed on my lack of empathy for my slain foes, "If it makes you feel any better, Fault Zone did it to him, not any of us," I specified, "...I mean, the Cuckoos made her think she was attacking Hisako, but whatever."
Upon my bringing up Fault Zone utterly ending Brigade, Cyclops' mind turned to a different direction, "Speaking of whom, how did she escape? I know she had a massive speed advantage, but Laura has an extraordinary tracking range."
That she did, and we tried to capitalize on that once we regrouped; after Laura had mercilessly popped my shoulder back into place. I'd been willing to jerry-rig a sling and wait it out until an actual medical professional could see it, but in her own words, I was no good in battle with one arm. Then she worked it back into joint before I could do anything. Vicious little...
"After we sent out the call, I had Laura track her," I recanted for Cyclops' sake, "The trail died about ten miles away from where we fought."
The trail just vanished, and Laura couldn't determine anymore from scent. She said it was as if Fault Zone had teleported away, which was weird, because if I had the ability to teleport, I would have broken it out a lot sooner than after I'd already lost a fight.
"That likely means accomplices," Cyclops grumbled, "What do you think are the chances that we're dealing with a whole group?"
Fault Zone didn't say anything being a part of any force or organization, but she had come with backup. Still, there wasn't much for me to latch onto as far as conversation went, but what little was said stuck with me, "She mentioned something about a Dr. Roekel," I said. There was no sign of recognition on Cyclops' face, "Not ringing any bells?"
"None," He replied, sounding very put out, "And that's what bothers me."
Very reasonable. There was no fear quite like that of the unknown. In this case, there was plenty of reason for it. The hits kept coming against the X-Men, specifically the student body. But that was where we came in, or where we were supposed to come in.
After a moment of thinking to himself, Cyclops sighed and gestured for me to follow him, "Walk with me, Solaris."
I got up from my seat and fell in step with him, "What are you thinking?" I asked as we headed to what I could only assume was Dr. McCoy's lab.
He took a moment to finish gathering his thoughts before he let me in on what was in his head, "I still want your team taking the lead on this. You've done as good a job as could be asked so far," The bit of praise made me feel uncomfortable. If everyone else hadn't been so on-the-ball in the field, things could have gone worse. Cyclops noticed and nudged me with his elbow, "...Take the compliment, Bellamy."
I did so begrudgingly, "Thank you."
Laura was right. I really was bad at taking compliments.
When we arrived at Dr. McCoy's lab, we found him pouring over Brigade's remains. I figured he would have found the work of performing an autopsy to be morbid, but he seemed enthusiastic.
Despite his focus, he heard and smelled us enter, "Come, come," He requested, waving at us to approach without so much as looking our way, "This is remarkable."
"I'm hoping you found something good, Hank," Cyclops said as we all stood near the table Dr. McCoy used to examine the material.
"Have I?" Dr. McCoy exclaimed, turning around to face us. He calmed himself and cleared his throat before continuing, "This man is deceased."
Given the obvious statement, I couldn't fight the urge to be a sarcastic dick, "Yeah, we noticed that. I prefer to call it 'cadaverrific'."
Dr. McCoy was not impressed. He gave me the flattest look he could muster before making me look like an idiot, "Did you also notice then, Mister Marcher, that despite being 'cadaverrific' for several hours, all of the cellular tissue is still alive."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "No. After death, isn't it supposed to be something like five percent still alive after 70 hours?" Thank the thoroughness of Xavier's curriculum for good biology classes.
Dr. McCoy nodded to my assumption, "This isn't a mutation. At least, not a natural one," He said, "It will take more time for me to learn all I can from this individual. At the very least, there's an abundance of material to work with here, as morbid as that sounds."
Sorry, not sorry. Don't try to kill my friends, and I won't have my psychic teammates trick one of your friends into killing you. Besides, after what I was told, I might have been doing Brigade a favor.
"Apparently, he's made of 100 different guys," I told Dr. McCoy. His eyes went wide in surprise, "Frankenstein's monster-style."
"That would explain all of the different DNA signatures," Dr. McCoy muttered, reaching to a metal pan he'd kept on the table to pull out some multi-pronged metal device, "And this."
I had no idea what it was. It was still covered in blood and… pieces of brain? Yikes. I didn't seem to be alone though, as Cyclops didn't know what we were looking at either.
"What is 'this', Hank?" Our glorious leader asked before I could.
Dr. McCoy was excited to explain, "A neural network. I haven't seen technology like this on the planet. Likely a method to control our friend here," He gestured to Brigade's body, "...Who would create something like this?"
It was hard to tell what he was referring to; the neural network, or Brigade himself? Either way, yes.
"This poor creature," Dr. McCoy lamented aloud for Brigade's sake. Him and all of the individuals that comprised him, I would have wagered, "I'll continue my work here. I'll let you know if I discover anything that could point us in the right direction."
In the meantime, all that was available for us was resting up and waiting for the next time we would be sent out. It didn't take very long for our services to be required again.