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Chapter 23: Yeast Farming
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It wasn't because his body betrayed him... It was worse.
For God's Sake, he bellowed in his mind! It just doesn't fucking end. Lady Fortune definitely hates him!
At the same moment, several other X-Men; Colossus and Cyclops; clutched their heads, stumbling under a sudden, overwhelming psychic assault.
"A psychic!" Jean yelled, her own mental shields slamming up. "A powerful one!"
She could feel the attack, a diamond-hard, icy probe seeking to dominate their wills.
She threw her own power against it, a telepathic battle erupting invisibly in the air.
But she realized with dawning alarm that the interference was intensifying, the source getting closer.
And then she appeared.
Emma Frost, the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, strode into the ruins as if she were entering a boardroom.
Dressed in her signature white, white regalia, her presence was a wave of psychic frost, pure elegance.
Beside her were two figures: a hulking, silent man, and a woman with a cruel smile, a trio of knives hovering telekinetically in the air around her.
Adam raised his head, his face contorted not from his physical wounds, but from the immense strain of maintaining the Hollow curse.
It was a desperate, full-power defense against Emma's focused telepathic invasion.
It was working, but the energy drain was catastrophic.
He had seconds, maybe two dozen at most, before his mind would be laid bare or it would continue to consume something else, like his life force.
"Stop this, Emma!" Jean commanded, her voice strained as she fought to protect the minds of her teammates.
Emma's voice was a psychic purr that echoed in all their minds. "Magneto is a business partner. I had a deal with him, so he is still needed. You can't have him, unfortunately."
The tension grew as the psychic battle grew, only for it all to end suddenly.
Emma's gorgeous eyes would squint, realizing that her true goal was achieved.
They were distracted, and in that moment of focused confrontation, a figure materialized in a puff of brimstone-scented smoke beside Magneto's body.
He was crimson-skinned, with a pointed tail and yellow eyes; Azazel.
He placed a hand on the fallen leader and, with another BAMF, vanished, taking Magneto with him.
A lovely, victorious smile graced Emma Frost's lips as she watched their expression change.
The X-Men had lost their leverage.
[Outplay after outplay, when do they end!?]
[Why is Emma helping Magneto?]
[She's the White Queen of the Hellfire club, so it must have something to do with that.]
[I'd assume it's an exchange of interest.]
But it was still annoying facing them, especially that redhead; her telepathy was ludicrous, guarding her teammates' minds all at once.
Destruction is easier than protection, yet Jean was still holding her own.
"Now," She said aloud, her gaze sweeping over them.
"You will leave this place. But you will leave him behind." Her eyes, cold and calculating, settled on Adam.
She brought her hand to her mouth, sizing him up, "You are a surprise, reeking of potential... How about you become mine? Let me look into your mind, I want to dearly see how it works."
[I would become hers!]
[Accept! What u waiting for?]
[Don't think I'd want her looking into my mind.]
[Me too, privacy is important.]
[The hentai I watch, phew. She'd run out of the stratosphere.]
[Dude, same, her mind would be so contaminated, Cthulhu would appear!]
[What are you guys watching?]
[I'm curious too, for research purposes of course.][+1][+1][...]
The situation was beyond precarious.
Surrounded by the White Queen and the remnants of the Mutant Brotherhood, the X-Men were outmatched and outmaneuvered.
Then, Emma's complacent expression faltered.
Her gaze met Adam's. Despite the blood, the pain, the psychic onslaught, and the imminent threat, his eyes were not filled with fear or desperation.
They held an unnerving, absolute calm, a deep, placid pool that seemed to see through her and into the very core of her ambitions.
Every breath was a shard of glass in his ribs, every heartbeat a thunderous drum of agony. Yet, Adam endured.
He pushed through the pain, his will a steel rod down his spine, and forced himself to stand.
His blood-slicked hands held an object of immense power, its weight both physical and symbolic.
He raised it and placed it upon his head. The fit was perfect.
It was Magneto's helmet.
A masterpiece of metallurgy and psionic science, crafted from a rare, resonant alloy that was almost utterly immune to telepathic intrusion.
Magneto had designed this special form of headgear to protect him from all forms of Telepathy and Psionic Energy.
He realized he would need protection from psychic beings like his old friend Professor Charles Xavier, and now, it served Adam very well.
The moment it settled on his brow, the world changed.
The crushing, soul-deep consumption of maintaining the Hollow curse vanished.
The icy, diamond-hard probe of Emma Frost's telepathy, which had been moments from shattering his defenses, simply… ceased to exist.
Silence. Glorious, absolute mental silence.
[HE TOOK THE HELMET! TF?! WHEN!?]
[He saw an opportunity and he TOOK IT!]
[Azazel teleported away a helmetless Magneto! This is the biggest W of the season!]
[Dude, Magneto would lose his mind when he finds out!!]
When Magneto had lain unconscious and vulnerable, surrounded by the X-Men, Adam had acted with predatory speed.
While the others were focused on the standoff, his fingers, slick with his own blood, had found the clasps.
He had believed, with a strategist's paranoia, that a third party would intervene.
And even if he was wrong, it was a contingency too valuable to ignore.
Magneto was known for his plot armor; Adam had simply decided to steal a piece of it.
He was certain that this won't be Magneto's end, and indeed, things did take a turn for the worse.
Azazel reappeared in another puff of sulfurous smoke, his crimson face a mask of fury as he beheld the helmet now adorning Adam's head.
The teleporter took a step forward, his intent clear: retrieve the prize at all costs.
Adam's voice, though raspy with pain, cut through the tension with amused clarity. "Before you try."
He said, letting out a wet chuckle, "Do you know what neurotoxin I injected into Magneto?"
Azazel froze, a terrible premonition dawning in his yellow eyes.
"Its name is Tetrodotoxin-alpha," Adam continued, the name rolling off his tongue with a wide grin.
"Unrefined, it kills in a dozen minutes. Magneto is… chronologically gifted... He's old. His system will likely succumb in half that time. Unless, of course, you act quickly."
Maybe it was a bluff, a beautiful, audacious bluff.
The toxin was maybe a fast-acting paralytic, not a lethal agent. Azazel wasn't sure, and Adam's absolute certainty wasn't making things easy either.
But Azazel couldn't take the risk. Magneto's survival was paramount. With a snarl of pure hatred, he gestured frantically to the remaining Brotherhood members.
They rushed to touch him, and in another BAMF, they were gone, leaving behind only the scent of brimstone and the echo of their failure.
[He bluffed the devil! He bluffed Azazel!]
[The sheer, unadulterated GALL of this man!]
[Did he bluff? I feel like it's something he would do, no?]
[Wait, was that not the same toxin he used against the guards just a while ago, and it was deadly?]
[No way, will Magneto die? There is no way they can save him in time.]
[Magneto has plot armor; he will survive.]
[True.]
[Adam: 1, Brotherhood of Mutants: 0.]
Adam slowly turned his attention back to the White Queen. Emma Frost was, by any objective measure, breathtakingly beautiful.
She was so stunning, she almost made him reconsider his preference for redheads. Almost.
[He's checking her out! The pervert!]
[Can you blame him? It's EMMA FROST.]
[Priorities, people! He's bleeding out, and he's still aura farming!]
[What is aura farming?]
[It's when you farm yeast in a field.]
[I'm confused??? How is he farming yeast now?]
[Lol] [Lmao] [Good one!]
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