As Niklaus flew back to Mystic Falls, the town where his new life had begun, he decided to stretch out his senses—curiosity pulling him to see just how far his powers could reach.
But as soon as he did, the sheer overwhelming volume of the world slammed into him like a tidal wave.
It wasn't just one or two things he could hear—it was everything.
Crime unfolding in the shadows, people fighting in alleys and bedrooms, laughter and tears, the rhythmic pounding of music, the soft hum of electrical wires, and even the intimate sounds of couples lost in their own world.
Voices clashed with each other, some yelling, others whispering, distant conversations blending together into a cacophony that made his head spin.
For a moment, he stumbled mid-air, the overload causing his mind to reel.
It was like a floodgate had been opened, and the noise of the world was rushing in all at once, drowning out his thoughts.
"Shit," he muttered, quickly pulling his senses back, clamping them down to the smallest range possible.
The sudden quiet was jarring, but it was a relief—his mind could breathe again.
He pushed forward, flying faster now, determined to reach his destination before the rising sun caught him exposed in the open sky.
The orphanage he'd scoped out earlier came into view just as dawn began to creep over the horizon, painting the world in soft shades of orange and pink.
Landing quietly in the shadows, he wasted no time.
With a sharp focus, he compelled the staff inside, bending their minds to his will as if it were second nature.
Their memories twisted and warped as he implanted the idea that he had been transferred there recently, just another unimportant orphan who had slipped through the cracks.
'This should do for now,' he thought, feeling a small sense of satisfaction.
He wasn't here to stand out or make a scene—just to lie low, blend in, and figure out his next move.
After handling everything at the orphanage, Niklaus finally felt the exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks.
The mental strain of the compulsion, the sensory overload from earlier, and the sheer chaos of the night had taken their toll.
He slipped into one of the empty beds in the dormitory, the thin mattress doing little to offer comfort, but he didn't care.
As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes grew heavy.
His mind began to drift, the events of the day fading away as sleep overtook him.
It had been a whirlwind since he first realized his powers—discovering what he could do, cleaning up the messes in his life, and figuring out how to move forward.
Now, he could finally rest, knowing that at least for tonight, he was safe.
Within minutes, Niklaus was fast asleep, the quiet breathing of the other children in the dormitory surrounding him, providing a strange kind of peace amidst the storm of his new reality.
---
As the Blackbird descended in the outskirts of Mystic Falls, its cloaking mechanisms whirring to life, Logan was the first to step off the ramp.
The night was thinning , the faintest glimmers of dawn just starting to color the horizon.
He took a deep drag from his cigar, the embers flaring briefly, and grumbled under his breath.
Something about this mission already didn't sit right with him, but that wasn't new. It wasn't like they ever got sent anywhere for a relaxing vacation.
"Another damn psychic disturbance," Logan muttered, flicking ash off the cigar.
"As if we didn't have enough trouble with the last one."
Scott Summers followed him down the ramp, the whir of his advanced prosthetic hand barely noticeable.
His gaze, as ever, was calm and focused, the red of his visor catching the first rays of light. "You still hung up on that?" he asked, more curious than annoyed.
Logan shot him a look, irritation etched into his rugged features. "Yeah, I'm still hung up on that. The Phoenix nearly destroyed the world, in case you forgot. Not exactly easy to let that slide."
Jean Grey stepped off the Blackbird behind them, her face stiffening at Logan's words.
She had changed since the Dark Phoenix incident, but even now, the mention of it was like a knife twisting in an old wound.
Logan noticed her reaction but didn't soften his tone.
"Logan..." she began, her voice calm but tinged with regret.
He waved her off before she could say anything else. "I'm just saying, last time we followed a psychic disturbance, we damn near lost you. And I'm not in the mood to deal with somethin' like that again."
"Logan," Scott interjected firmly, stepping forward with a slight shake of his head. "This isn't like that. The energy's different. Focus on the mission, not the past."
Logan rolled his eyes but kept quiet. He didn't push it, though the unspoken tension in the air thickened for a moment.
The old wounds were still there, barely healed, but Scott's demeanor had changed since then too.
Losing a hand in battle and replacing it with a prosthetic had humbled him in ways that Logan could respect.
He wasn't the same brash kid trying to prove himself. Now, he led with quiet determination.
Jean extended her senses, her brow furrowing as she probed the psychic energies in the air. "This is different, Logan," she said, more softly this time. "It's like... someone broadcasted their will into reality itself. It's not the same chaotic force as the Phoenix."
"Feels like they were trying to bend the world to their will," Logan grumbled. "Great. Just what we need. Another one of those."
Scott stepped up beside Jean, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his prosthetic humming slightly as it adjusted to his movements. "We've handled worse. Whatever this is, we'll take care of it."
Kitty Pryde phased out of the Blackbird next, her energy as vibrant as ever despite the somber mood.
She adjusted her gloves, looking between her older teammates. "Can we maybe... not dwell on apocalyptic events? Just for this mission?"
Logan snorted. "Sure, kid. But I've got my claws ready just in case."
Kitty grinned, her lighthearted attitude a breath of fresh air amidst the tension. "Good. I'd hate to see you lose your edge."
Scott scanned the horizon as they moved forward, keeping his eyes on the town.
"Kitty, take point and scout ahead. Logan, stick with me. Jean, keep your senses open—if that power surge happens again, we need to know where it's coming from."
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, following Scott as they moved into town.
Despite his usual gruffness, Logan had a quiet respect for Scott, especially now.
The kid had grown up, the loss of his hand marking a shift in his leadership.
He wasn't trying to control everything anymore; instead, he worked with the team, not above them.
Jean's mind continued to stretch out, searching for any signs of the presence that had broadcasted its power. "I still can't pinpoint it," she said, frustration creeping into her voice. "It's like... like the world just absorbed the wave."
Scott nodded, his face tightening with concern. "Then we keep looking. If it's strong enough to reach Cerebro, we'll find it. Hopefully before it finds us."
Logan's claws twitched beneath his skin as they moved, his senses on high alert. "Let's just hope we're not dealing with another damn cosmic entity. One world-ending disaster was enough for a lifetime."
Kitty called back softly from ahead, "So far, it's just a sleepy town. No signs of anything crazy yet."
Logan snorted again. "Yeah, well, crazy's always waiting around the corner. Stay sharp, kid."
As the team pushed deeper into town, the quiet dawn cast long shadows around them.
Logan couldn't shake the feeling that something big was waiting just out of sight, ready to change everything... again.
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