Stryker's regeion was faster than I expected, but it didn't matter. I had already pnned for this. Watg him pull himself together, his missing flesh and bone ref like a lizard growing back its tail, I khis fight wasn't over. But that wasn't the point. Not today.

  The world would know soon enough.

  I slipped further into the shadows, carefully retreating from the se. The detonations had doheir job—Stryker's unit was in disarray, the trucks were destroyed, and most of his operatives were either dead or badly injured. But I khe real threat wasn't the men with the guns or even Stryker himself.

  It was the lie that was ing.

  ...

  [Safehouse]

  The television s flickered, and I watched from a safe house miles away, monit the news feed from several major stations. I bought it using a fake identity and ID and maybe maniputed a couple of people's minds to keep this pce safe. Just as I predicted, Stryker's power wasn't just in his physical abilities or his soldiers. It was in his reach, his influehe news anchors were already spinning the story.

  "Breaking news from the Bronx, where authorities are rep a massive explosion in what they're calling a terrorist attack. Early reports indicate that a group of armed extremists, possibly mutants, were involved in a firefight with federal agents. The explosion, which destroyed several buildings in the area, was reportedly triggered by these extremists to avoid capture. The identities of those involved are still being iigated, but sources close to the iigation believe that a man known as Aron, a suspected mutant fugitive, was among those killed i. Officials are withholding further details until of kin be notified."

  A photo of me fshed on the s. They had already decred me dead, yet dared to frame me. Clever. Well pyed. If that's how they want it... so be it. I'm game.

  Now, the main problem is Jean. I just hope she doesn't do anything stupid and lose trol of her power. I wao tact her to let her know that I'm alright, but there is a possibility that Stryker got spies at the school. I 't risk alerting them. I mean, if there are spies with telepathy immunity like me, then the Professor or Jean won't be able to detect them, right? Or, they might be keeping a close eye on the school from outside, and tag them might alert them.

  It's best not to get her or a the school involved in this until I get rid of the threat pletely.

  ...

  [Xavier's School fifted Youngsters] [3rd Person POV]

  In the quiet halls of the Xavier Institute, students and teachers alike had gathered in the lounge area, eyes glued to the television. The news of the explosion ying out, and the grim headline deg Aron's death scrolled across the bottom of the s.

  Jeaood at the ter of the room, her brow furrowed as she watched the broadcast. Beside her, Kitty, Jubilee, and Rogue wore the same grim expressions. Psylocke, Storm, the Professor, and the others were sitting on couches, watg the same s with heavy, weighted stares.

  Professor X sat forward in his wheelchair and tapped his temples, his brow furrowing deeper at the broadcast.

  "Just as I feared," He mumbled, "They have begun to move."

  "He... He isn't dead, right?" Kitty stuttered in shock.

  Jean didn't respond immediately. She could feel the surge of emotions arouhe shod sadness rippling through the group. But something her, a feeling deep in the back of her mind, like a thread she couldn't quite grasp. She khat Aron wasn't dead. Her man was strong enough to defeat three omega-level mutants in an instant, there was no way he would die this easily. But...

  'How dare they call him a terrorist,' She growled ihoughts, feeling her anger bubbling forth.

  "Don't jump to clusions," Logan growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen enough people die to know when something doesn't smell right. Stryker's involved—makes me think it's all one big lie."

  Beast, ever the logical one, adjusted his gsses. "Stryker has a history of maniputis to fit his narrative. The fact that this explosion vely eliminates a known mutant fugitive fits his modus operandi perfectly."

  Jean hough her eyes were distant, lost in thought. Then she remembered that Aron had absorbed her Phoenix Force. So, if she used her Phoenix Force to try to sehe other portion of the Force that was within him, then maybe... Her body began to glow with a faint red hue. A massive wave of energy swept over the room as the temperature began to rise.

  "Jean..." The Professor's voice, warning and ed at the same time, sounded out.

  "I 't sense him," she finally said, her voice soft but steady. "It's as if...he's vanished." She stopped her Phoenix energy from flowing. She almost lost trol for a moment there due to her unstable emotions.

  Logan grunted. "Doesn't mean he's dead. The kid's slippery. I'll bet my cws he's still out there, hiding somewhere."

  Scott's frown deepened, but he didn't argue. "Even if he is, Stryker's not going to stop. He'll go after him with everythi."

  Storm stepped forward, her voice calm but firm, "Then we will save our friend with everything we have."

  "Agreed," Beast nodded. "Stryker went too far this time. If we just sit this o, ime, he might target one of us."

  "That's not the worst part," The Professor said with a grim expression. "Eri't let this ce go. We have to find Aron before Eritacts him and as you all know, he has his way with words."

  After a brief pause, Xavier turoward Beast.

  "Hank, tact Fury. He o know about this situation. Tell him to stop Stryker or we'll step in and do what's necessary. Aron must not fall into Eric's hands."

  "Of course." Beast nodded before walking out of the room, pulling a phone from his coat.

  Loga out a low grunt and looked up toward Jean.

  "Listen, Jean. I know you are worried and wanna find him, but don't do anything stupid. We'll find him."

  ...

  [Stryker's Residence – Late Night] [3rd Person POV]

  The mansion was quiet. Stryker was sleeping in his room instead of hunting Aron, not because he wao sleep, it's just that every time he uses his regeion power it drains his stamina and exhausts him beyond anything. The serum he took was not perfect. His meill w to perfect it. So, he needs at least 12 hours rest. The reasourned himself into a mutant was because he believed that he had to survive long enough to carry out God's will and remove the imperfect beings from this world t forth the bance. And when his job is done, he'll kill himself.

  Aron moved through the shadows effortlessly, silent as the night itself. The security systems, though state-of-the-art, were no match for his abilities. Maniputing the guards had been child's py and avoiding the cameras was a child's py to him. With his super speed, he ran avoiding every camera, trap, and everyone.

  He read the guard's mind and found out that Stryker's bedroom was on the sed floor, hidden away behind thick walls and heavy doors. Aron reached it with ease, phasing through the wall. There, Stryker y asleep, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. It was almost peaceful—almost.

  Aron's gaze hardened as he watched the man who had tried to frame him, to paint him as a terrorist. Stryker, who had maniputed the world's view of mutants for so long, thought himself untouchable. Tonight, that illusion would shatter.

  Aron made a sharp bde with his ice power.

  He approached the bed without a sound, standing over Stryker for a moment, watg the man's unknowing face. A flicker of anger crossed Aron's eyes before he moved swiftly.

  The bde sliced through the air, meeting flesh with barely a whisper. One cut, then another, and Stryker's arms were severed from his body, his legs . Blood sprayed across the sheets, but Aron moved back calmly, watg as the pain hit Stryker like a truck.

  Stryker's eyes shot open, a scream tearing from his throat as the agistered. His body vulsed, instinctively trying to fil, but his limbs were gone. He gnced down, horror filling his wide, bloodshot eyes as he saw the stumps where his arms and legs had once been.

  Aron stood in the er of the room, his expression unreadable as Stryker writhed in pain.

  "Aron…" Stryker mahrough gritted teeth, his voice ragged with shod agony. "You… bastard…"

  The man's mutation kicked in, his body already beginning to heal, the stumps where his arms and legs had been slowly regeing. Flesh kself back together, and bones regrew. The regeion was fast—too fast for normal wounds—but Aron had expected that. It didn't matter.

  He stepped forward, his voice cold and cutting.

  "Yo, does it hurt? Well, it's just the beginning. I'm gonna take away your sleep from you starting today. Every time you try to sleep, I'm gonna slice your limbs and legs. When you eat, I'll poison your food including water. When you go to take a bath, I'll be there alright... I'll stab you a huimes with ice spikes. When you are out on the road traveling, I'm gonna blow up your car. You hide a thousa deep, I'll find you and cut you in half. I'll make every single sed of your life a living hell so, let's start now."

  Aron used his ice bde to slice off Stryker's regeing limbs again. Blood sprayed out like a fountain, dying the room red and making the walls and ceiling look like some gruesome crime se. His eyes were cold and calm.

  "Huh?" Stryker rubbed his eyes with his regrown arms and looked around. There was no one in the room. Not everaces of his own blood. He sat up huffing and drenched in his sweat. "A dream?" He looked at the clock. It was 6 in the m. He quickly took out his gun from the bedside table drawer and looked around the room. Nothing. Everything looked . "Phew..." He sighed in relief, dismissing everything as a dream. "It felt so real."

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