A Busy Day

( 3rd POV )

In the outskirts of New York, where the city's relentless pulse fades into the tranquil whispers of nature, stood a grand mansion, its silhouette etched against the twilight sky. Its sprawling gardens, dotted with ancient oaks and vibrant flower beds, led to a stately home of stone and timber. The estate, a testament to old-world charm and modern luxury, sprawled across acres of lush greenery, its presence both imposing and inviting.

Two women with different hair colors walked in front of the mansion door. As they crossed the threshold, the heavy oak doors swung open to reveal a grand foyer, where the echoes of their footsteps mingled. The walls, lined with portraits of various sceneries and enigmatic figures, seemed in harmony with the mansion's atmosphere.

Both women walked side by side through the hallways, inspecting their newest purchase in this new world. Their footsteps continued to echo through the grand hall, where crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors.

A woman with white hair started the conversation first. "This place… it's more than suitable for Chaldea's temporary base. What do you think, Sion?" Her voice reverberated off the high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings. Her eyes, reflecting a leader's resolve, scanned the expanse with a critical gaze.

The purple-haired woman called Sion nodded while continuing their walk before responding. "The space is ample for our operations. It is quite far from New York Central, and somehow it is built on top of the leylines. The command room could be set up in the library, and after everyone comes back, we could start setting up the bounded field around the perimeters." She mused while heading toward the library.

"Yeah, I know, but the cost..." The white-haired woman grumbled about the mansion's price; even with their still abundant resources, it was really pricey.

Sion, hearing her companion's words, tried to reassure her. "Worry not, Olga. The resources we've allocated for this are well within our budget; we still have a lot. And look," she gestured towards another sturdy oak door that led towards the library, "It's all worth the price, I'd say."

As Sion opened the door, the abandoned library room was revealed for the two women to see. Tall, arched windows, framed by heavy velvet drapes now faded and dust-laden, allowed slivers of light to dance across the room. They illuminated rows upon rows of towering bookshelves, crafted from dark mahogany and lined with gold leaf that still glinted stubbornly. The shelves were like a labyrinth of literature, filled with old, dusty books.

In the center of the room, a large globe stood, its surface a patchwork of peeling paint and worn paper. Nearby, a grand desk of carved oak sat, its surface littered with the remnants of past study—fountain pens, parchment paper, and an inkwell, the ink long since dried.

The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and wood polish. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling, where a once resplendent chandelier hung, its crystals dulled and covered in a fine sheath of dust. Compared to the front part of the mansion, the deeper parts of this building, including this room, seemed completely neglected.

"This room is so dirty and in disarray... I feel scammed somehow," the white-haired woman, Olga, sighed, seeing the library's condition.

"You know there are no other buildings that match our needs and have leylines underneath the ground. We can use some spells to clean it up and ask Hassan to help with the renovation using her clones. It won't take a week, probably..." Sion said after analyzing and coming up with a solution for their new mansion situation.

"Sigh, anyway, let's see the other wings of this place. I hope the bedrooms are at least tidy enough..."

"Or we can sleep in the Shadow Border for a night..."

"Oh god, please no..."

The two women of Chaldea walked out of the library room while chatting on their way to the other parts of the building. On the first day since they left their Antarctica base, the group led by Olga managed to secure their temporary base. They would renovate this mansion and make it their secondary base in the future, securing their foundation in this chaotic world.

.....

In another location, a giant mansion nestled amidst the rolling hills of Westchester County, and the afternoon sun painted the mansion's Victorian-style facade with warm hues. Ivy-clad walls framed tall windows, their panes catching the light like prisms. The main entrance, flanked by gargoyles, exuded an air of mystery. A wrought-iron gate, adorned with the school's emblem—a stylized X—guarded the path leading to the grand courtyard.

A middle-aged man clads in a leather jacket entered through the grand gates of the mansion, a cigar gripped firmly between his lips. His aura was a mix of raw instinct and dominant force. He surveyed the weeping willows that bordered the walkway before his gaze settled on the fountain situated at the mansion's entrance.

A white-haired woman with dark brown skin awaited him near the fountain at the center of the courtyard. Water cascaded from the outstretched wings of a marble angel, its eyes closed in eternal contemplation.

"Logan," she greeted, her voice carrying the soft cadence of African rain. "You're late and missed your teaching shift."

The rugged man known as Logan grunted, resting against the fountain's edge before replying, "Had to deal with a hangover; it's been a tough week." He tossed the cigar onto the ground.

The white-haired woman gave him a brief look and then nodded with a look of comprehension. "It's alright, Alex is taking over your shift. You ought to get him a few drinks for that. By the way, did the Professor have any tasks for you while you were away?" she inquired, her voice laced with curiosity.

In the secluded sanctuary of the mansion, the man known as Logan seldom ventured outside. For him, the outside world held little allure; he preferred the solitude and the sense of duty that bound him to this place. He was the silent guardian, ever watchful, a presence that both reassured and intrigued those who lived there. So, when he did leave, it sparked curiosity, particularly in the white-haired woman standing beside him.

"I'll go see him later, and yes, Charles asked me to check on some things about the Brotherhood when he sensed them entering New York," Logan began, his deep voice carrying a hint of the weight he bore. He paused, his expression clouded with a touch of melancholy. "Since the number of mutants has surged over the past couple of years, the world seems to be changing very fast compared to the past. He also asked me to find a new mutant he sensed in town and try to recruit them."

She sighed, her thoughts echoing the unspoken worries shared by many. "You're right. These past few years haven't looked too great for us mutants, especially with the Brotherhood and the government," she said, her tone laced with a wry smile. The destructive actions of their rivals had cast a long shadow, leaving their kind in a precarious position. "So, what are the results? I didn't see you coming back with a new recruit. Heck, I didn't even see Remy back with you. Where is he?"

Logan's face contorted with irritation as he recalled the recent fiasco. "We were supposed to recruit a mutant named Alison Blaire when she performed her concert in New York," he growled, the memory clearly agitating him. "But instead, that bastard dragged me to investigate a bar near Hell's Kitchen.

He'd heard some of the Brotherhood members were hanging out there, but his real intention was just to go there for a fucking drink! And what's worse, he left me drunk while he walked off with a woman in his arms! I'll rip him apart with my claws if he comes back later, grrhh..."

He narrated his recent journey with palpable frustration, his words painting a vivid picture of the misadventure. The scene he described was almost comical, yet tinged with the seriousness of their mission. Waking up drunk outside a bar alone wasn't part of the plan, and Logan's simmering anger was evident.

The white-haired woman couldn't help but chuckle softly at his indignation, though she understood the gravity of the situation. "Sounds like you had quite the night," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Yeah, some night," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

"And I see, that's very much like what Remy would do," she commented after hearing about his unfortunate night. She knew pairing these two together would only result in chaos, but they didn't have any other members available yesterday. 

"Tch, I'll go back to my room. Tell me if he comes back later, Ororo," Logan said, heading toward the mansion. But after taking a few steps away from the fountain, he stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the courtyard with a vigilant intensity.

Noticing his strange behavior, Ororo asked with a confused look, "What's wrong, Logan?"

Instead of answering immediately, Logan continued to scrutinize the area, sniffing the air like a beast on the hunt. After a few moments of tense silence, he seemed to relax, his demeanor returning to normal. "Nothing. I guess my hangover is affecting my instincts. I really need some good sleep," he muttered before resuming his walk toward his room, leaving Ororo standing by the fountain.

"Weird, even with his regeneration, he still gets a hangover. I wonder how much he drank..." Ororo murmured to herself, shaking her head at the peculiarities of her friend's abilities. She turned her attention back to the courtyard, watching the children playing with a smile on her face.

Around her, the courtyard buzzed with life. Young mutants—some with scales, others with wings—practiced their abilities and played without a care in the world. Nearby, a group of slightly older teenagers, roughly the same age as Mash and Ken, had overheard Logan and Ororo's conversation.

"Old man Wolfy seems very angry," a brown ponytailed girl whispered to her friends.

"Well, if I were in his place, I'd be equally pissed. I mean, Mr. Remy broke the bro code—he chose hoes over bros," a young man said, manipulating a small ice sculpture with his powers.

"He dug his own grave. Press F for our magician's fate," a boy with blue skin and a tail replied, his tone light and joking.

"I think Logan is overreacting a bit. We all know Remy likes to play around," another boy with red sunglasses said, defending Remy.

"Really, Scott? Even I, as a woman, can understand Logan's feelings," a young woman holding a small ball of magma retorted, her focus split between her training and the conversation.

"Amara is right. This time Remy took it too far," another woman wearing a hijab added, her hand transforming into sand and then back to flesh.

Just as the debate was heating up, Scott, the boy with the red sunglasses, was bitten by a small mosquito on his right hand. "Ouch, damn bug," he exclaimed, trying to slap it, but the mosquito had already flown away.

"Damn, even the mosquito agrees with us and bit you," the brown-haired girl laughed, her amusement evident.

"Ahaha, just like Kitty said, nature is with us this time,"

"Let it go, man. Even mosquitoes need to survive,"

"Yep, just consider it donating your blood for their livelihoods,"

"You guys..."

Scott was too speechless to respond, feeling like he had lost both the argument and his dignity. Their laughter filled the mansion courtyard, a rare bubble of harmony and joy amidst the ever-present threats lurking beyond the mansion's walls.

As Logan finally reached his room, he could still hear the distant echoes of their laughter, a small smile tugging at his lips despite his earlier irritation. The world outside might be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but within these walls, there was camaraderie and a sense of family that made the struggles worthwhile.

.....

Not far from the mutants' mansion, the Shadow Border—a mobile fortress of Chaldea—sat silently on the outskirts of a winding, quiet road. Its sleek, armored exterior reflected the fading light of dusk, but to the untrained eye, it remained invisible. Powerful illusion spells and intricate warding magic veiled it from prying eyes, ensuring that no passerby would stumble upon its secrets.

The vehicle was parked discreetly, nestled within a copse of trees that offered both concealment and a vantage point. Inside, two of history's greatest minds, Da Vinci and the vessel of Zhuge Liang, engaged in conversation regarding their current situation.

"Why is it taking so long?" Waver's voice held a hint of impatience as he stared out of the window. The quiet streets seemed to stretch endlessly, devoid of any activity.

Da Vinci, her eyes closed, sat with a staff cradled in her lap. Her mind was a whirlwind of calculations and incantations. "Patience, Waver-san," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "I need to concentrate while using this spell, as I have never used it in my whole life, and the process to make this operation succeed requires a considerable amount of time. So, please wait a few more minutes. Hassan is also still out there, after all," the brilliant woman said from her seat.

The vehicle descended into silence once more. Outside, the trees whispered secrets to each other, their leaves rustling in the evening breeze. Da Vinci's concentration remained unbroken, her mind a conduit for the spell. Waver fidgeted, glancing at the door as if expecting it to burst open with news. 

A few minutes later, Da Vinci opened her eyes, a relieved smile gracing her lips. Indicating that whatever she was doing had worked and was finished. "Done. "Now we just need to wait for Hassan to return with the elusive sample we're seeking."

Waver, slouched in his seat, stifled a yawn. His eyes, usually sharp and analytical, were now glazed with fatigue. The mission had dragged on longer than anticipated, and the monotony was wearing him down. "If I had known this mission would be this boring, I would rather stay with Olga or roam around with the kids," Waver murmured.

"I also want to enjoy our vacation, but we need to finish our job first. Besides, I need your Noble Phantasm may prove indispensable should we encounter any trouble." Da Vinci said in a complaining tone, feeling irritated because she missed spending time with her master. 

This Chaldea group, under the leadership of Da Vinci, found themselves in Westchester County, fully immersed in one of their primary objectives: procuring samples of mutant blood for extensive research. Their aim was to develop advanced devices capable of locating and identifying mutants, as well as delving deeper into their mysterious origins.

As per their plan, Da Vinci tapped into a spell she had recently mastered to execute the operation. This spell granted her control over small creatures like ants and insects, requiring her to maintain intense focus and concentration. She meticulously manipulated several mosquitoes, seamlessly integrating them into the surroundings of the mansion. This intricate process demanded time and precision.

Simultaneously, Hassan was deployed to assess the mansion's security measures and observe the mutants residing within, albeit from a safe distance. Da Vinci was being as cautious as possible while dealing with the unknown. Using her presence concealment, Hassan was also tasked to collecting any mosquitoes that successfully obtained blood samples before discreetly departing the premises.

Without waiting much longer, the Shadow Border's door opened, and Hassan entered the vehicle, holding a futuristic cube in her hands—a containment cube for storing the samples that Da Vinci had given her.

"How is it, Hassan?" Da Vinci asked excitedly.

"It's done, but I suggest we leave this place immediately. While most mutants were oblivious to my presence in their courtyard, one of them did, albeit for a short period, before I increased my presence concealment skill. His instinct is insane; even the bald man couldn't sense me," she said, placing the containment cube in its place.

Da Vinci and Waver received Hassan's report with contrasting reactions. Da Vinci appeared intrigued by the mutant who had sensed Hassan's fleeting presence, while Waver's demeanor shifted to one of grave concern.

"It must be Wolverine. Just like in the file, he possesses some kind of beastly instinct," Da Vinci mused, recalling the intelligence they possessed on the formidable mutant.

"Da Vinci, it's time to leave. We cannot afford to linger any longer," Waver insisted, his tone grave. Regardless of the slim probability, the presence of Logan, capable of detecting an Assassin's concealment, posed a significant threat.

"Okay, okay, I also want to go back to my master anyway. Let's pick him up first before we go back to Olga's location."

Having made her declaration, Da Vinci swiftly activated the behemoth and steered it away from their prior position. The mobile fortress hastened along the road, departing from Westchester County. With their mission accomplished, they would be more equipped to handle any mutant encounters in the future.

For the moment, however, the Shadow Border navigated through the Imaginary Number Space, circumventing the dense traffic typical of a bustling metropolis such as New York.

.....

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