Chapter 26: Opportune Timing

Upstate New York

Charles Francis Xavier had been through a lot in his long life, and it sometimes felt as if the surface thoughts of others that constantly rushed through his mind aged him even more.

The powerful telepath's strength made it difficult for others to shut him out completely, which was something he had learned from a young age.

There were times that he loathed his abilities, but without them, he wouldn't be able to direct the minds of his charges. If he had to suffer the minds of those around him for the better of mutant-kind, then so be it.

Xavier was currently looking outside. To an observer, he seemed as if he was watching his charges play during their break, but to someone who knew the man, his demeanor was one of turmoil.

His old friend Erik, the self-proposed Master of Magnetism, had discovered the mutant. He had learned that his old friend had a mutant that could sense mutants and even determine their strengths. The two had a falling out; he deeply regretted his action, but in his defense, he thought his friends were better than petty revenge—Magneto's actions against the late Sebastian Shaw, the target of his friend's retaliation.

He also had a protégé, Jean Grey, who was far more potent than he was. Her mind was a nuclear weapon to his ballistic missile. She shared some of his burdens, and through his lectures, she had avoided many of the pitfalls he had succumbed to during his youth. The young lady was a force of nature, and he had done things that he hoped were for the best, but only time would tell.

He had sensed a new mutant, an anomaly, with so much potential, more incredible than any he had witnessed; not even Bobby Drake, the child whom he had coined the term Omega, had more potential than this one–something he had categorized as the potential beyond Omega level.

Perhaps it was sheer luck, but when Charles checked with Cerebro again that morning, he found the anomaly's signature. When he pinpointed the anomaly location and discovered the mutant was the infamous Red Hood, he deflated, deep regret welling inside him.

He was too late; the boy had been suspected of having killed numerous individuals, and his most significant concern was the boy whose identity he still didn't know hadn't used his mutant ability but technology; could he possess a genius-level intellect like Hank? That was even more concerning.

Another mutant was also in the vicinity when he sensed him that night. It had vanished alongside the boys, reinforcing his concern about the boy possibly being a genius-level mutant and capable of creating advanced armor and perhaps a device that allowed him to go undetected. The latter he couldn't believe because Cerebro was a secret only a handful of people were aware of.

He had decided. He needed to meet this young mutant; redemption was possible. This mutant lived in New York. Knowing that others with less than kind intentions were probably already on the move, trying to recruit this young mutant.

New mutants, especially the mighty ones, often struggled to control their newly awakened gifts. So, someone with such abilities being influenced by their abilities wasn't out of the norm. He recalled when he met Storm that she was being worshipped as a goddess; admittedly, her particular mutation made her extremely dangerous, but he managed to steer her away from a path that he saw her on, and now she was one of his most loyal members and a fabulous teacher.

The anomaly had access to technology on a level he couldn't grasp; not even Hank could understand how he produced said tech.

Hank had asked a viable question: How was the boy supporting his endeavors? Thanks to Xavier's considerable wealth, which he inherited from his family, and Hank's genius, they had access to technology beyond the norm on earth.

He had been watching for the anomaly. Never before had a mutant been able to hide from him, and it wasn't complete camouflage either; it was almost as if the individual turned off his genetic marker at will, and when in use, he was a flare, no, not a flare, not bright enough of a description, the awakened mutant was a Sun.

He tapped at his cell phone, inputting the code to unlock it before focusing on an updated news article. His hands balled. He couldn't delay. The child had taken another life.

Hopefully, Hank's new mobile Cerebro device would enable him to act before cases like this reoccur. The last thing they needed was another Erik. He was interrupted by his thoughts as his door opened. Peeking inside was Monroe or Storm.

"There you go. Jean was wondering if you would like to." She halted; Xavier's hand rose, quieting her, his other hand touching his brow. Storm entered fully, concern written across her face.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Professor, is everything okay?"

Xavier's brows scrunched in concentration briefly before he refocused, his eyes shimmering with understanding.

"Storm," he said, hand pressed against hers on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid we will miss dinner this night. Ready the Blackbird and alert the team. And, please bring along Bobby."

"Bobby," her brows rose at the mention of the team. "Is that wise? He's new, and the brotherhood isn't a good measure to test-"

Xavier interrupted. "Ororo, I've pinpointed the anomaly; I'm afraid he's the one the news outlet has been calling Red Hood."

He hoped he wasn't making a mistake, but he would meet the boy with enough strength if he deemed it necessary…

Special Agent Misty Knight

Misty Knight pulled her coat closer as the cold night air seeped through the thin fabric she wore underneath. Her rendezvous in the Middle East had messed with her in more ways than she realized.

She had gotten a lead on her target, the same one the powers that be continuously disregarded as some vigilante. Her gut had told her otherwise, and trusting her gut feelings had saved her numerous times in her military career. She wouldn't disregard it now.

He was a possible mutant; Uncle Sam had long monitored mutant-kind. It wasn't until recently that their mutations had become mainstream. She blamed social media; if not for those social sites, there wouldn't have been too much data that the government had to acknowledge. Even now, the public has been clamoring for the United States government to take a stance. She could already foresee a congressional hearing approaching.

As if planned, agents swarmed around her, departing the undisputed federal cars, each one blacked out; she led the pack, leaving her the focal point of attention. The obstinate eyes of the local P.D. tracked her.

She adjusted her navy blue sports coat, flashing her special agent badge and duty pistol, silently announcing herself. Local police eyes glimmered with curiosity, but none stop their ascent.

"The call came in approximately thirteen minutes ago. Subject Red Hood." An agent said, reading off of his tablet.

Misty quipped. "What an opportune time." Her task force had been in the area, working on a possible sighting of a suspected supernatural being residing in Harlem.

"How many this time?" She asked the Agent, who flicked the screen to get the required data.

"One confirmed death, another critical, currently undergoing emergency surgery, three others minor fractures." She intoned.

"M.O., not the same as the others," Misty interjected. "No burns, no fires. He hadn't even used guns this time. Tell me what has changed."

She was sure they were dealing with a mutant, which shouldn't be a significant concern; she had collared many, and with Luke and Jessica's deputation going through, she would capture many more.

Those unredeemable were placed in a coma before being awakened and moved to a secure facility; each one was different, so the state had to modify existing cells to hold them, for those deemed redeemable were trained and placed under Uncle Sam.

She didn't like the idea of the U.S. government forcing its citizens into duty; as a vertebrae herself, she always felt that you either heard the call to serve or didn't.

Another point of contention was the discrepancies in the captured. Weak mutants with useless power were often jailed, and the powerful were constantly sent off; not even Caulson knew where these mutants were sent.

"I want everything you unearth uploaded to the network," she ordered, ducking under the yellow tape, shelving her misgivings for another time.

She pointed to a CCTV above a bodega. "Send a team to canvas the area. He has to be on camera, fleeing," she snapped her fingers." Did he tamper with the feed on the bus?"

"Yes," someone behind her responded. "He has shown to be capable of distorting or downright deleting CCTV in his local area."

Misty gritted her teeth. "I need to know where he's going and what has brought him to Harlem."

"Possibly the local gangs," Stanley interjected. "He has shown animosity toward Street gangs."

Stanley continued. "The gangbangers in question are Stokes guys. Knowing Stokes, he liable to retaliate."

Misty scoffed. "Good, that would do. If my haunch is correct, our red Boy Scout will murder them to the last man."

She stepped on the bus, the forensic team sliding into the seats to let her pass. She squatted down, taking a pen to remove the covering.

"Good riddance," she muttered.

"Red was on the bus when the gang attacked the mother and daughter."

The other Agent from earlier added. "He saved them. The deceased is Mike Dunn. He has a warrant for domestic and another for attempted murder. Their leader, Marcus Pugh, has a rap sheet as long as my arm. He's the one in the ICU. He messed him up pretty bad."

It is doubtful that if she had not seen the aftermath, she wouldn't have believed that the red-cowled vigilante had done the deeds being attributed to him.

'I owe Daredevil an apology. She had reprimanded the man, threatening to rescind their agreement and expose his identity; not even her boss knew who the man was.

Misty Knight made it to the mobile command center that had been set up. All arguments ceased, seeing their boss's head dip inside.

She cast her eyes around, adding faces to her memory and recognizing familiar faces amongst the masses.

She had just finished the video evidence confiscated from the residents, a video hastily put together to gather a further understanding of the event.

She was concerned. "This," she inquired, stopping the video on the figure of the vigilante. "Is this capabilities of the suit he's wearing, or is this his mutant abilities?"

The analysts all looked around, none having an answer for their boss. The Red Hood figure shimmered, heat waves pouring from him like the visual distortion above hot asphalt. The snow that built up around him receded at a rapid rate.

"We're not sure at the moment," someone hesitatingly said. His answer sounded more like a question than an answer to her ears.

"Nevertheless," someone else continued, following up where the Agent left off. "We're assembling a portfolio; our experts will have more information soon."

Misty didn't comment, her eyes on the figure in question. She hit play. The Hood had summoned a weapon to his hand. She paused the video again.

"You see this?" She reminded the video again and let the scene replay of the red-cowled vigilante summoning the hammer to his hand.

The ability in question was already known to them; at first, it was assumed to be some form of transference; now, seeing it with her own eyes, she was positive this was not some technology but a supernatural power.

They were dealing with another mutant with extraordinary abilities that weren't cataloged. If she hadn't seen his capabilities earlier, she would say he was growing in strength, but she was sure that was wrong.

To her knowledge, mutant-kind didn't evolve in power as a bodybuilder grew in strength. They had a power set that their psyche constructed into tangible concepts.

He hadn't a reason to use his powers. He had limited himself, not showing those he came against his true capabilities. This vigilante was just as dangerous as the other one she had been tracking.

"No," she said abruptly. "Red Hood even more dangerous." Her hand balled. Deputy Director Caulson had attributed her focus to this case as ridiculous. he didn't say it, but his casual direction to this mutant said it all. Something about the vigilante had irked her.

She recalled their first meeting, the backdrop of a dilapidated warehouse ablaze, their target casually over his shoulder. What worried her the most was what the Hood needed with a geneticist.

She turned to Stanley. "Get me, Xavier." It was due time that the leading authority of mutant-kind had explained why he couldn't or wouldn't intervene to capture criminal mutants.

Stanley stood to carry out Special Agent Knight's orders. A commotion emanated from outside, and the tent flap waffled as an unnatural gust of wind poured over the area. She hurried out, hand on her service weapon, but was surprised to see a mature man in a wheelchair.

Ignoring the interlopers, she stared at the airplane or some advanced jet behind the three individuals, hovering silently above their heads.

"Is this a threat, Xavier," she asked, her weapon slowly being drawn from her holster. The man before her was a mutant that SHIELD had known about, a powerful one.

"It's professor, agent." The beautiful redhead woman admonished. Misty's eyebrows rose, but the 'professor' hand raised disarmingly.

"Jean, please, this meeting between us and the newly installed Xavier Institute liaison is long overdue." He said placatingly, eyes smiling as he eyes her slowly drawing sidearm.

"I do apologize for this. I needed to come and see you in person, and you have my promise that your agents and officers are not being harmed."

She looked around; everyone was frozen, as if time had stopped; she fought not to gulp at the display of power.

Professor Xavier, Alpah's class, did not antagonize the bold letters on his file.

Cole Stephens

The system status screen appeared at his beckoning, ushered to the forefront by a casual thought; its translucency afforded him the ability to see through it. His cowl eyes glowed menacingly as he took in the information he had called forth.

Name: Cole Stephens

Known Name: Jeremy York

Alias- Red Hood

Race: Inhuman Mutant

Alignment: +Neutral

System-Bank: $224,567

Minion(s) Bullseye—Coerced 19%|100%

Legal—Contracted

Angelica "Angel" Jones—Contracted

Persona(s)Jason Peter Todd- Red Hood 99%|100%

Unsurprisingly, his minion list had grown. His newly acquired lawyer, at a significant monetary cost, was now under contract. He hadn't forgotten about the doctor. The man's zeal had cut through any worry he would have. He wouldn't leave it as it was because there was too much for him to lose, at least at this stage.

He still hadn't told any of them who he was. Still, he was almost positive the inquisitive Legal had figured it out; if the man hadn't, he would have reconsidered their partnership.

Bullseye hadn't been a person of interest, and their impromptu fight had aligned with his burgeoning abilities. An on-whim Cole had tested the myriad capabilities of his mutant power that had grown from its original version, intimidation.

He hadn't seen nor talked to the man, so it was no surprise that the coercion percentage was dropping. He sighed. That whim had added to his workload. He would see if it was possible to get him under contract. He looked into the night, observing the multitude of lights from homes and businesses, his mind working at problems impossible to the average man. He would have to change his plans; he could use the man who never missed here. With the club brought forth, he had a base of operation.

He could feel growth in his many skills unlocked so far, which meant his Persona could grow beyond one hundred percent, his unlocked abilities wouldn't have an immediate stopping point, and their upper limits were still unknown.

His current Persona is at 99%. He would be lying if he didn't say he was excited; even though his memories were missing, he still could recall his admiration of comics and favorite T.V. shows.

One of his favorite sci-fi T.V. shows was the Stargate series; he could barely imagine what he could do with Asgard, Atlantean, and Goa'uld technology.

His excitement had only grown when he began to feel the pull from outer space, the planet now being called Yasmault by the world had been calling him. He looked at the ring on his finger, the cause of the uproar in the science world. The system was still beyond what the couple comprehended.

He could activate the red lantern ring and depart the planet, but with everything belonging to the system, he had intricate knowledge about its capabilities.

He had always wanted to experience flight; traversing the skies under his power was a dream of his, a dream of Cole Stephens to be precise, but something was telling him not to use the ring just yet, and being in the Marvel universe, he trusted his guy above anything else.

He wasn't aware of what was on the planet. For all he knew, alien life could exist there. He knew life wasn't beyond the system's grasp... The pull was evident, a slight scratch at the back of his mind, but it wasn't distracting, so he would wait, gain more power, master more of his abilities, and grow his companies first. His departure would consist of the completion of Jeremy's Legacy quest.

Cole was unaware of the world's government's knowledge of the planet, the powers that he had been aware almost immediately of the inhabitable world.

Countries like the USA and Russia are already assembling teams. The United States was even discussing with tech giants, like Stark Industries, to facilitate and produce viable technology capable of exploration.

Could anyone blame them? The world was habitable, and what power would wait and see? Neither nation knew what technology the other countries had hidden away, especially with the growing amount of mutant and enhanced, extraordinary technology everywhere nowadays.

He yawned, which surprised him, his healing factor made his stamina almost negligible, he hadn't never tested his upper limits but to be tired from that exertion was concerning.