The Underground Laboratory - Skull Island
Ernst stepped out of the shimmering blue wormhole, the ambient energy of the void still clinging to his coat.
"Welcome back, Dr. Ernst," a clear, melodic voice echoed through the sterile laboratory.
Standing before him was a breathtaking blond woman.
Her smile was radiant, her facial structure adhering flawlessly to the mathematical perfection of the golden ratio.
She exuded an irresistible, almost gravitational allure, designed to captivate the human mind.
Ernst didn't even blink. He remained entirely unfazed.
"Red Queen," Ernst said coldly.
"Why maintain this specific appearance? It requires constant energy. Save your reserves where you can."
The AI pouted, feigning human offense and crossing her arms.
"Humph. You are so boring. Can't you appreciate art, Dr. Ernst?"
"You are a machine. You cannot truly comprehend these biological nuances. Change back."
Following his command, the blond beauty sighed.
Her physical form began to blur and shrink.
The Vibranium and precious magical metals shifted seamlessly, guided by billions of microscopic nanobots integrated into her chassis.
She settled into the tangible, diminutive form of a red-haired little girl.
She was no longer a simple three-dimensional phantom.
She possessed a physical, lethal body.
Ernst had upgraded her utilizing Asgardian Light Energy Technology when she expressed the desire to interact with the physical world.
He had deliberately crafted her as a child.
But the Red Queen had grown dissatisfied, insisting on a more mature, alluring appearance.
Unable to please her vanity, Ernst had integrated the nanobots, allowing her to alter her aesthetic at will.
"Better," Ernst noted, walking past her.
"Now, pull the global feed. I need to review everything that happened on Earth during my absence."
Holographic screens materialized in the air around him, filling the underground sanctum with glowing blue light.
The situation on Earth had deteriorated rapidly. It was growing increasingly chaotic.
Magneto's brutal battle at the White House had shattered the illusion of normalcy forever.
Mutants were now exposed to the world.
While a small fraction of humans expressed tolerance, the vast majority reacted with fear, hostility, and persecution.
Mutants were being hunted in the streets.
In the shadows, Mystique had mobilized.
Her covert actions and tactical strikes had dramatically improved the mutants' situation, turning her into an underground hero and savior to their kind.
Ernst swiped the air, fast-forwarding the timeline.
A new video expanded. An underground mutant arena in East Berlin.
Mystique was there, disguised as an ordinary human girl.
She moved through the screaming, bloodthirsty crowd, her eyes locked on the center of the room.
Mutants were being held captive in high-voltage electric cages, forced to fight for human entertainment.
Mystique was assessing the security. She intended to save them all.
Inside the electrified ring, a cage match had just concluded.
A Winged Warrior, Angel, had viciously defeated a massive, heavy-set mutant known as the Blob.
The crowd roared for more blood.
The ringmaster opened a heavy iron box, revealing the next challenger.
A boy was shoved out into the dirt.
He had deep-blue skin, strange, ancient scarification lines across his body, and a long, prehensile tail.
In the crowd, Mystique froze in absolute shock.
It was Nathan. The Blue Devil. Nightcrawler.
Her son.
"What happened to Azazel?" Mystique thought, guilt crashing over her like a tidal wave.
She had been away for years, leading the resistance. She had hoped her son was safe and hidden.
She never expected to see him captured in a bloody fighting pit.
The bell rang. The cage battle was in full swing.
Nathan teleported frantically, leaving clouds of purple smoke and the smell of brimstone in his wake.
He effortlessly eluded the diving, slashing pursuit of the Winged Warrior.
But the high-voltage perimeter kept him trapped.
The electrical field disrupted his spatial awareness, confining the chase to a tiny, lethal space and creating a terrifyingly tense standoff.
Mystique realized that rescuing her son solo amidst the crowded, armed arena would be impossible.
She needed to kill the power. She had to turn off the high-voltage electricity so Nathan could teleport to safety.
Taking swift action, Mystique shoved her way through the cheering mob, heading toward the heavy electrical switch box on the far wall.
Inside the ring, the Blue Devil found his opening.
He used his spiked tail to expertly ensnare the Winged Warrior's ankle.
With a violent heave, Nathan tossed Angel directly into the electrified cage mesh.
Blue sparks showered the arena. The high-voltage shock severely burned the warrior's wings.
Fueling his enraged assault, Angel recovered and lunged at the Blue Devil with murderous intent.
Mystique pushed harder through the crowd, growing desperate.
Suddenly, another exclamation halted her. This time, the crowd's tone shifted from bloodlust to genuine fear.
Perceiving the shift in dynamics, Mystique paused and looked back at the ring.
A massive blue wormhole had materialized directly inside the locked cage.
BAMF.
A burly, middle-aged man stepped out of the portal.
He shared the same demonic tail shape as the Blue Devil.
However, his skin was the same tone as a normal human's.
Mystique felt a profound wave of relief wash over her. She recognized him instantly.
It was the Red Devil. Azazel. Her boyfriend.
Thanks to a specialized dye Ernst had synthesized years ago, Azazel's crimson skin was indistinguishable from that of an ordinary man.
Only his tail, revealed in the urgency of the rescue, gave away his true nature.
Upon Azazel's sudden arrival, the arena supervisor panicked visibly.
He knew the cage was still electrified. Teleporting inside was impossible.
Without hesitation, the supervisor screamed an order.
Gunfire erupted. Heavy machine guns positioned in the rafters unleashed a relentless barrage of bullets toward the mutants in the ring.
Azazel was completely unfazed.
He raised his hands and conjured a thick, shimmering blue magical barrier.
It enveloped himself, the Blue Devil, and the injured Winged Warrior.
The heavy-caliber bullets bounced harmlessly off the magical shield.
They ricocheted wildly into the surrounding crowd, causing mass casualties and prompting an immediate, screaming exodus.
Seizing the chaotic moment, Azazel produced a dark, jagged short knife from his belt.
With a single, effortless motion, he cut a sizable opening directly through the electrified steel mesh.
The high-voltage electricity sparked and died around the enchanted blade. It posed zero threat to him.
With his primary task complete, Azazel turned his cold gaze to the Winged Warrior.
"Can you leave now?" Azazel demanded.
Angel remained silent. He swiftly flew out of the jagged hole, dashing into the rafters for safety.
Azazel turned and reached out to catch the Blue Devil by the arm.
"Come back with me!" Azazel shouted over the gunfire.
"You are not allowed to run off alone in the future."
Surprisingly, the Blue Devil stubbornly teleported three feet away, evading his father's grasp.
"No!" Nathan declared, his yellow eyes blazing.
"I'm not going back. I am going to find my mother."
Azazel's disguised expression shifted abruptly into anger.
"I told you," Azazel snapped.
"Your mother is very busy right now. She has no time to see you."
"She will come to you after a while. Go back with me and wait."
In the throes of deep adolescence, the rebellious Blue Devil refused to listen to reason.
"You've lied to me for years!" Nathan yelled.
"My mother never came back. You must be keeping her from me."
Enraged by the disrespect, Azazel lunged forward, attempting to physically force the boy through a portal.
However, Nathan was faster.
BAMF.
Nathan teleported directly into the chaotic, fleeing crowd.
He knew his father possessed the ability to sense spatial fluctuations in the ether.
Teleporting too far away would light him up like a beacon.
Blending into the panicked crowd provided a much better chance of escape.
By pure chance, or perhaps fate, the Blue Devil materialized mere feet from Mystique.
She had been following the cage events with her heart in her throat.
Hearing the bitter conversation between father and son, Mystique was burdened with overwhelming self-blame.
Her arrest and her crusade had cost her her family.
She decided instantly to help her son escape.
She stripped a heavy overcoat from an unconscious guard on the floor.
She threw it over the Blue Devil, hiding his blue skin and tail, allowing them to slip completely unnoticed out the back doors with the fleeing crowd.
Grateful for the stranger's assistance, the Blue Devil would later discover that Mystique was also a mutant.
They would become close friends, sharing everything.
But Mystique would never reveal her true maternal connection.
She presented herself strictly as a friend, too guilty to admit the truth.
Azazel, seeing this, let them go.
Ernst swiped his hand through the hologram, dismissing the footage.
He opened the next file. The tone of the data was infinitely darker.
Amidst the warmth of the mutant underground, absolute tragedy had struck.
It concerned Magneto. Erik Lehnsherr.
Leading the global mutant crusade for their fundamental rights, Magneto was viewed as a god by his followers.
But despite his elevated position, he was a deeply lonely man.
Seeking peace, he had found solace in a woman. She was not a mutant, but they fell deeply in love.
They had a young daughter.
Fully aware of the deadly peril his identity brought, Magneto had hidden them away in a secluded, quiet town for their safety.
He visited them regularly, living a dangerous double life.
But despite his extreme caution, fate is cruel.
A fateful encounter with an enemy patrol one night led to his exposure.
A tactical strike team laid siege to his home during a visit to his daughter.
Wanting desperately to shield his little girl from witnessing a gruesome scene, Magneto held back his lethal power.
He fought defensively. It was a fatal mistake.
He suffered a devastating loss. In the chaos of the crossfire, both his wife and his young daughter perished.
Ernst watched the satellite imaging of the aftermath.
Devastated, Magneto had erupted into a vengeful rampage, tearing the strike team and the surrounding forest into metallic shreds.
Thankfully, Erik retained some minor semblance of reason.
He refrained from calling upon the massive mutant forces under his control.
He opted for a solitary, apocalyptic path of personal revenge.
Ernst closed the file. The world was burning.
Stationed in the Skull Island underground base, Ernst meticulously examined the final set of recent global events.
Nuclear bombs had been inexplicably launched into the upper atmosphere.
The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters had been reduced to rubble by a massive explosion.
Colonel William Stryker had led a brutal black-ops raid to capture Mystique and the surviving X-Men.
All of it drew Ernst's sharp, analytical attention.
But it was a single three-dimensional image that completely captured Ernst's attention.
Moira MacTaggert. A CIA agent.
Ernst stared at the glowing hologram.
He had no deep emotional connection with Moira. Their encounter years ago had been fleeting and entirely transactional.
But the twist lay in her bloodline.
Moira was the mother of his son, Chris.
Ernst knew Chris's temperament perfectly.
His son was immensely powerful, and he would not stand idly by if his mother faced danger.
Ernst anticipated Chris's immediate, violent involvement in the global crisis.
Despite knowing the original timeline's resolution, where the X-Men eventually defeated Apocalypse, Ernst was not willing to gamble.
Timelines were fragile. They could change.
Ernst wondered about the lethal, unpredictable risks Chris would face if drawn into the conflict.
Ernst tapped the console, expanding the satellite imagery of Cairo, Egypt.
The sands had shifted. The ancient tomb was open.
En Sabah Nur was awake.
Ernst's eyes hardened into cold steel.
He would not leave his family to fate.
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