At the same time…
On the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, the engines roared like slumbering beasts beneath the steel hull and the cold Atlantic winds. The propellers turned slowly, making the deck vibrate like the heartbeat of a metallic giant.
Inside the main office, illuminated only by the pale glow of monitors and the moonlight streaming through the reinforced window, Nick Fury stood behind his desk, studying a stack of reports.
Each document seemed to weigh a ton, each line a new concern.
A sharp knock echoed on the door.
"Come in," he said.
The door opened, revealing a woman with firm steps and a lethal gaze.
Natasha Romanoff — the Black Widow — entered with her usual elegance, the calm of a woman who had long made peace with her own shadows. Her black uniform reflected the light from the screens, and her wavy red hair cascaded down her shoulders like restrained flames.
"Agent Romanoff, excellent work on your last mission."
Fury's tone was firm, yet there was a rare trace of approval in it.
"Is there a new assignment for me?" Natasha asked bluntly, arms crossed, her sharp eyes fixed on the director.
Fury opened a drawer, pulled out a sealed folder, and slid it across the table.
"Yes. Your next mission is… relatively simple. You just need to keep an eye on someone."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, picked up the folder, and opened it with the calm of someone who had already seen the worst the world could offer. Still, her expression changed — a hint of surprise.
"Tony Stark?"
"Exactly. That's him. Everything you need is in there — motives, location, behavior. I want you close to him as soon as possible."
She flipped through the pages carefully, scanning through reports of parties, tabloid photos, his circle of friends, and records of erratic behavior.
"Understood. I accept the mission. Any other orders?"
"No. Just keep your cover and stay near him. The sooner, the better."
Fury shut the drawer, and silence filled the room — until another knock sounded at the door.
Maria Hill entered briskly, her expression heavy with urgency.
"Director, we have a problem."
Natasha didn't show curiosity — she simply stepped aside and exited the office. The door closed behind her, and the atmosphere grew heavier.
"Kingpin and several of his trusted men were found dead," Hill announced.
Fury's eyebrows shot up. "Repeat that."
"They're dead. The place looked like… a battlefield. No, worse — a complete massacre. Our agents said the scene looked like hell itself."
Fury leaned forward. "Cause of death?"
"Murder. Executions, no mercy shown. No survivors."
Fury's single eye narrowed.
"Any leads on who might've done this?"
Hill hesitated before replying:
"No solid evidence yet, but… there's a strong suspicion. Based on the method of the killings… we believe it could be the work of the Ripper."
Silence filled the room — thick and almost tangible.
"…That man retired two years ago," Fury muttered, incredulous.
"Yes. But this time, it seems personal. Revenge, maybe."
"I see…" He took a deep breath, elbows resting on the desk. "Keep digging. And for God's sake, keep this off the official records. The last thing I need is that man showing up at my door. And don't let Romanoff catch wind of this."
"Understood, Director." Hill nodded, but before she could leave, Fury asked,
"And what about Bruce Banner?"
"Some agents located him in Brazil. He's working at a soda factory, trying to stay under the radar."
"Keep a close watch on him. And don't let Ross find out. I'm not dealing with another international manhunt."
"Yes, sir."
---
Xavier Institute — Westchester
The air in the study room was silent, broken only by the steady rhythm of a pen scratching across paper.
Charles Xavier — Professor X — reviewed student reports and new mutant registrations. Then, suddenly, he stopped.
His expression shifted — immediate concern.
"Jean's emotions are… fluctuating."
He pressed two fingers to his temple, closing his eyes, trying to connect to her mind.
But to his surprise… he couldn't even locate her.
"Huh…? What's going on?" he muttered.
He could still feel her presence — her vibrant emotions — yet he couldn't pinpoint her location or make contact.
It was as if an invisible wall had been raised, blocking his telepathic link.
"This has never happened before…" he murmured, frowning. "Unless she reaches out to me herself… I'm completely blind."
Immediately, he focused his powers to contact Logan.
The adamantium-clawed mutant, walking through the bustling streets of New York, suddenly heard the professor's voice in his mind.
"Logan, where are you right now?"
'Charles… I was just heading your way. Found something about Jean and her mysterious friend.'
Logan grumbled internally — he would never get used to Xavier's invasive way of talking.
But there was no point in resisting.
"Do you know where she is right now?"
'Just saw her. She's walking around with a kid… and a girl I've never seen before.'
Xavier's mind tensed.
"Come back immediately. Bring Jean before something terrible happens."
Logan was silent for a moment, feeling the weight in the professor's tone.
'...Got it. I'm on my way.'
Xavier ended the link, resting his hands on the table as he tried to calm his unease.
"Jean… why are your emotions so… joyful?"
It was something he had never felt from her before — genuine, pure happiness.
And that, more than anything, terrified him.
As he struggled to focus, a stray thought echoed in the empty room —
"Professor… you could just try calling her."
But of course, there was no one there — only Charles Xavier, trapped in his own stubbornness and old habits.
---
Elsewhere in the city…
The sounds of cars and New York traffic blended with the chill of the afternoon breeze.
Logan moved quickly through alleys and crowded streets, sniffing the air like a predator tracking its prey.
Finally, after a few minutes, he saw her — Jean.
She was there, laughing softly, walking alongside two girls — one of them a small redhead with mischievous eyes.
Logan slowed down, preparing to approach.
But then, the little girl turned her head.
Her gaze met his, and a curious, knowing smile spread across her face.
"Uh…?" A chill ran down Logan's spine. That was no innocent smile.
Before he could react, the girl raised her hand. An invisible wave of psychic energy hit him like a silent explosion.
Logan's vision blurred. He tried to resist, but his body wouldn't move.
Within seconds, he collapsed against the alley wall and fell unconscious.
The little red-haired girl — Saeko — giggled softly, staring at him.
"Don't ruin my fun, grumpy uncle."
Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned her full attention back to Jean and Gwen, a mischievous and dangerous spark dancing in her eyes.
---
(End of Chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."