CH-31: A Brother. A Hero.

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[Brian Braddock AKA Captain Britain Pov]

My day couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

All I wanted was a few hours to relax on the couch, watching a movie and spending time with my baby sister, Betsy. But no, the universe seems to have it out for me.

Betsy had gone and run away from home, going through that rebellious phase, I suppose. It's just like when I was her age—filled with hormones and a desire to break free.

When I did it, my old man wasn't as understanding as I am. He sent me off to military school without a second thought. Talk about heartless.

To be honest, I'm not overly concerned about Betsy. She's got powers of her own, and she's smart enough to handle herself. I'm sure she'll come back home in a day or two. I was just as stubborn at her age, maybe even more so.

But that's not why I'm scowling right now. I would have happily enjoyed my own company or perhaps tried my luck with a charming lady for the night. But no, some idiots had to go and ruin it.

"Brian, fall in." Came Sonya's voice through the radio.

"Fucking MI6!" I cursed under my breath as I made my way through the corridors of the MI6 building, my scowl deepening.

Every agent I passed gave me wary looks. I like to think of myself as a jolly fellow, someone who can lighten the mood even when facing a gun to my face. At least that was the case back in the military.

God, maybe I should have just stayed there.

MI6 is a bloody shambles, and the only reason I ended up here is because of my lack of obedience in the army.

Let's just say I had a disagreement with a superior of mine, and he found himself in a ditch at the camp, bloodied and bruised, an hour later.

I was promptly dismissed from service, and that's when MI6 decided to recruit me.

I pushed open the door leading to the control center and found myself in a familiar setting. Agents were hunched over their computers, monitoring various activities.

At the front of the room stood a middle-aged woman who still had her own charm, her bright pink dress setting her apart from the rest.

Sonya Falsworth, the director of MI6, the Spymaster of this circus, and the reason why I'm here.

Sonya had this grand plan of forming a strike team under Her Majesty's command, comprising powerful mutants to tackle situations where regular soldiers couldn't cut it. But for her plan to succeed, she needed something called public favorability, and I was to be the poster boy for it.

America hasn't managed to implement such a plan yet, and Sonya was determined to be the first. It wasn't just about her ambitions; it was about the country's security, especially with threats like Magneto emerging.

She couldn't find a mutant within the army ranks, but she had something else in mind. All she needed was someone who could follow orders, and that's where I came in. I may not have mutant abilities like my sister, but I had a clean record during my time in the forces.

"You're finally here." She said, her hands on her hips, shooting an angry glare in my direction.

"Just got here as fast as I could." I shrugged, moving forward.

"Let's get on with it then!" She yelled, pointing at an ancient anklet held by her assistant in a box.

I shook my head as I took the anklet from its case and slipped it over my gloves.

The Anklet of Right, my trusted partner, an artifact said to be crafted by Merlin himself. How much of the story is true, I have no clue.

"So, what are we dealing with today?" I asked, looking at the large monitor ahead. I was eager to get this over with as quickly as possible and return to one of the clubs.

"Some fellow tried their luck at the museum." Sonya said, pointing at the satellite image of the said museum. "We believe their target was the Pharaoh's star-"

The image changed to reveal a purple diamond—the Pharaoh's star, a national treasure and considered by some historians to be a mystical artifact.

"Did they manage to steal it?" I turned to the director.

"No." She sighed, shaking her head. "But they haven't left the building either."

"Any weapons?" I inquired.

"Not that we're aware of." She replied, shaking her head.

Falsworth turned around, a smirk playing on her lips. I could see the cogs turning in her mind, a plan taking shape.

"We can use this, Captain Britain saves the national treasure." She said, grinning with ambition. "Yeah, the headlines will love it."

"Great." I smiled wryly. "Can I go now?"

"What are you still doing here? Go!" She waved me off.

I snorted in disbelief and made my way out of the control room, heading to the rooftop where a helicopter was waiting.

The flight was bumpy due to the snowfall, but after ten minutes, I found myself hovering over the museum.

I nodded to the pilot and jumped out, without a parachute, of course. Where's the fun in that? The chilly air whipped against my face as I descended.

The Anklet emitted a pink energy as I extended my hand downward, creating a barrier to break my fall.

I landed gracefully on the roof, adjusting my perfectly curled blonde hair, and made my way into the museum through the rooftop door.

"Captain, they're heading toward the African exhibit." My comms buzzed with instructions.

"Got it, Margaret." I replied.

I hurried down to the ground floor, the Anklet guiding my way as I weaved through the museum.

Fortunately, I didn't encounter any guards on my path. I wasn't particularly keen on explaining why I was dressed like a walking flag of Britain.

Finally, I arrived at the African gallery, and my steps halted as I spotted two figures standing in the shadows, clad in all black. One of them had a rusted ax in his hand.

"Drop the weapon, mate." I calmly commanded, reaching for my batons on my back.

Blokes like these never go down without a fight.

"Captain Britain demands it!"

And I've never lost one.