Players Ponder

"I'll be personally supervising this mission!" Shaw exclaimed, spreading his arms apart as though waiting for a standing ovation.

The mutants before him looked at each other with equal parts excitement and fear. The White King himself was taking part in the mission. On one hand, they could be 're-educated' for failure or not meeting expectations. On the other hand, they were under the pseudo-protection of a White King of the Inner Circle!

Shaw grinned, enjoying the trepidation that swirled in their eyes, but quickly frowned when he saw almost no emotion in the demonic-looking mutant. He merely stared at the ground, a light, almost imperceptible tremble enveloping his figure.

"You!" Shaw flicked the mutant's head, sending him tumbling on his behind. "You're Azazel's mongrel, aren't you?"

The mutant looked at him with trembling red eyes before squeaking out a yes.

"The traitor?" Emma questioned from the side, her voice literally drilling into everyone's heads. "You're the one whose mind I had to go through. Nightcrawler. One of Xavier's."

"Xavier's? Why wasn't I informed of this?" Shaw's brows furrowed. He was only aware that the Hellfire club had acquired one of Azazel's many bastards - one that excelled in teleportation. He had no clue that he was once a part of that pacifist Xavier's group.

[ You were too busy searching for the Evolutionaries to bother reading the information. ] Emma telepathically informed him.

'Ah!' Shaw mentally sighed, a little miffed. He was known for his intelligence, after all.

"Well, it doesn't matter," he waved it off before glaring at Nightcrawler once more. "You're the taxi service once we take the relay to New York City. It's your job to bring us all to the airport the moment the damned plane lands. You clear?"

"Y-yes...Sir."

"Good," Shaw growled and stared at all of them. "I do not wish for this mission to fail as I have a great interest in that serum. If it were not for that, I wouldn't have bothered coming with you Knights. I'd have other pressing matters to attend."

[ You're still hung up about the Secondary Mutation after all these years? ] Emma mentally chuckled, still holding her poker face.

'I KNOW I can absorb more than just Kinetic energy, Emma. Extremis is the key to that. Moreover, the heat generated via the serum could be a source of energy for me,' he thought in his head, knowing Emma would be reading his surface thoughts.

[ If you say so... ] Emma gave him a mental shrug before examining Nightcrawler's brain once more. One could never be too sure, after all.

A mental pulse emanated from her head, which easily penetrated the mutant's psyche, bombarding her with his current thoughts and life story.

It was a sad one - one that many a mutant had gone through. Abandoned as a child, years of being called a freak, exploited, used then discarded before being accepted into one of the few surviving mutant organizations. She watched as Kurt Wagner, his actual name, was accepted by the benign Professor and manipulated by him. He was discriminated against for his appearance and shunned for his connection to the Brimstone Dimension. It was easy to see why he jumped ship....but something didn't feel right.

Not only was the Professor known to be more accepting, but Nightcrawler's mind was a bit robotic, as though his thoughts didn't flow all that smoothly.

'Well...he is Azazel's son...', she rubbed her chin, looking all the more elegant. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't come close to piercing Azazel's mind. He was just too...chaotic. Did that influence Kurt's mind too? Was Xavier really that cruel?

"We'd better get going," Shaw unknowingly interrupted Emma's thought process after looking at his watch. He then turned around and walked around the bench, standing on an almost invisible silver circle. It was carefully designed not to draw attention if one wasn't specifically looking for it.

The three mutants slowly got up and walked over to Shaw before standing behind him - making sure to stand in the aforementioned circle.

'Are you sure you don't wish to come?' Shaw thought.

[ I'm not the one who has nothing else to do in the Inner Circle. The Black King is acting up again - attempting to turn most of the members into mutant supremacists. I need to go and have a look at that. It's bad for business. ]

'If that's the case, I'll see you later as a much more powerful being. You like poetry, don't you?'

[...That was pretty funny.]

Shaw and Emma gave each other small smiles, getting lost in each other's eyes as the circle began to activate. At that very moment, Kurt's shaking and trembling pupils suddenly became clear and focused, before he closed his eyes.

CLINK! POP!

He methodologically broke the intricately placed mental barriers that were thin and subtle enough to go over Emma's head, in a specific pattern that he'd discussed with the Professor. They were akin to a web. Turned, twisted, and circled to accomplish its goal perfectly - to allow Kurt to project fake thoughts and....as stupid as it sounds, to send a message.

The barriers were a work of art, and breaking them was almost a shame.

CLINK! POP! TAP!

A silvery sheen enveloped the small team of mutants as the barriers were systematically broken, alerting a man a continent away.

"We'll be back with the Extremis, or not at all," Shaw growled when the light became blinding.

ZING!

***

"Ah!" a man jerked awake in a large office, startling another, bigger man next to him.

He was casually dressed, in jeans and a checkered shirt whose collar was folded the wrong way owing to his odd sleeping position. A bird's nest of black hair lay tousled on his head while a stubby, unkempt beard covered his chin.

He sat on a comfortable chair before a giant oak desk that was neatly arranged. Even the room he was in was simplistically, but lavishly decorated. Expensive rugs, chandeliers, collections of expensive precious stones, and an odd helmet that sat next to him. He looked precisely how James Mcavoy would look if he didn't shave and had a bad day's sleep.

The other man who sat in a similar chair at the other end of the table. The first thing that one would notice when placing their eyes on him for the very first time is that he was a bit....wild. Large, thick sideburns extended down until his jawline which merged with his mutton chops garnished by a bit of chin hair. The shirt that wrapped around him could barely contain his figure, threatening to burst out at any moment.

"What is it?" the man questioned, but the smaller man seemed not to hear him - his eyes closed, as though he was listening intently.

"Charles?" he asked in a softer voice, his body tensing - his back slowly lowering into a feral hunch.

Charles kept his eyes closed for a few more moments before he jumped out of his chair and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

"You know telepathy's a thing, right?" he said, watching Charles begin scribbling on the aforementioned paper. "Ain't no need for old-school note-passin' with that brain of yours."

"Shut up, Logan," Charles sighed before carefully marking dots and dashes along with a few slashes.

"What's with the Morse code? You aren't old enough to think that's the way we write, do you?" Logan grinned, showing a bit of his canines before scuttling across the bench and reading what Charles had written.

... .... .- .-- / .. ... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --. .- .. .-. .- - .. --- -. --. .- .. .-. .--- / .- .. .-. .--. --- .-. - .- - . -..- - .-. . -- ...

"Kurt sent me this," Charles muttered, finishing the last dot.

"Oh, that's what this was!" Logan's eyes widened before becoming completely serious. "What's the message say? I take too long."

"It says..." Charles's voice trailed off for a second as his brain deciphered it at inhuman speed. "...Shaw is coming. Airport. Extremis."

"Sebastian Shaw, airport, huh?" Logan narrowed his eyes. "Fuck! Is he gunning for the superhuman terrorist?"

"That's not good news. There isn't a clear motive, which means that we don't have all the information," Charles muttered before frowning. "But what's that word supposed to mean? Extremis? That isn't one of the code words we set up..."

"Did Kurt fuck up the Morse Code?" Logan speculated scratching his cheek in thought.

"Perhaps. It is indeed a hard language to memorise, especially when he has to break specific barriers instead of merely flashing a torch but I believe it could be the key to figuring out why Shaw is interested in the fiery reincarnation of Shakespeare."

Logan nodded before sighing to himself, "Brainstorming isn't my thing anyway. You do your thing, and I'll put together a team."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Charles nodded, adjusting his collar. "We don't have much time."

"Whoa, hold on," Logan paused at the exit and looked at Charles as though he was dumb. "We need you here at the school. They'll be defenseless if you come with us."

"Ororo is here. She's powerful enough," Charles frowned, standing up and dusting his jeans.

"She's pretty damn powerful but telepaths are people whom you do not want to mess with. Trust me, I know," Logan's eyes briefly flashed with anger as his past temporarily resurfaced akin to acid reflux. "We need you both here. She's the muscle and you're the brains. I do not want to see kids die anymore."

"I...Fine. But are you sure you'll be able to handle Shaw? It'll take me seconds to take care of him. You're taking a dumb risk here," Xavier sighed, sitting back down and slumping on his chair.

"A calculated one. You being here will make my heart rest easy, and....I'll figure it out," Logan grinned once more before opening the door, revealing a large hallway with a couple of young adolescents walking to and fro.

"They all die the same."

***