"Exactly, like the X-Men, but with a purpose that doesn't involve hiding in a basement," Jean Grey said, her voice steady and carrying a new kind of authority that made even the air in the room feel heavy. "The X-Men were a symbol for a world that didn't know we existed. But the world has seen us now. We don't need a school project; we need a department of state."
She paused, looking out the window at the New York skyline, where the lights of Stark Tower flickered in the distance. "Recruit Ororo first. Her control over the elements is far too valuable to be wasted on grading geography papers. And Colossus... we need his backbone. He's built for the front lines, not just for heavy lifting around the estate."
Mystique shifted her weight, her yellow eyes darting toward Logan, who was pointedly ignoring the conversation while sharpening a combat knife. "And Scott? You're just going to leave him behind?"
Jean offered a soft, almost pitying smile. "Scott is the perfect guardian for Charles's ghost. Let him stay at the school and play headmaster. He can teach the children how to not blow up their bedrooms. We'll handle the world out here."
With a sharp nod, Mystique signaled for Nightcrawler. A puff of blue, sulfurous smoke later, they were gone, leaving Logan and Jean alone in the quiet tension of the room.
"You're getting cold, Jean," Logan muttered, finally looking up.
"I'm getting practical, Logan. Now, come on. I'm taking you somewhere that'll remind you why we're doing this." Before he could argue, Jean's telekinetic grip seized him. Logan let out a startled curse as they shot through the ceiling, the sensation of weightlessness turning his stomach as they soared toward the clouds.
While the mutants were planning their future, Justin Hammer was currently living through a nightmare.
Inside the R&D wing of Hammer Industries, the atmosphere was miserable. Hammer was pacing the floor like a caged tiger, screaming at a group of sleep-deprived coders who hadn't been home in three days.
"I don't care if the code is 'elegant'! I want it to work!" Hammer shrieked. "Stark's suit can play chess and fly to the moon, and mine can't even find the 'on' switch without crashing the entire server! If I don't see a functioning UI by morning, I'm sending your resumes to the fast-food industry!"
He was already planning his next move. He had a senator in his pocket who was just waiting for a reason to drag Tony Stark back in front of a committee. If Hammer could just prove his suit worked, he could argue that the Arc Reactor was a matter of national security and force a tech-share.
"Sir, the logic gates are—" one researcher began, but he never finished the sentence.
CRASH.
The reinforced glass of the executive laboratory didn't just break; it disintegrated. A high-pitched, mechanical cackle echoed through the room, followed by the terrifying whine of a turbine engine.
A figure clad in jagged, emerald-green armor swooped through the debris on a bat-winged glider. The mask was a horrifying, demonic visage with glowing yellow eyes.
"Who the hell is that?!" Hammer yelled, diving behind a reinforced titanium pillar.
It wasn't Ivan Vanko. It was Norman Osborn, or what was left of him. The 'Green Goblin' had arrived, and he wasn't looking for a corporate merger. To Norman, Justin Hammer was the reason Osborn Industries had been gutted. Hammer's back-room deals and loud-mouthed promises to the military had pushed Osborn out of the spotlight, leading to the desperate human trials that had fractured Norman's mind.
Outside, Ivan Vanko had been about to breach the side entrance when he heard the explosion. He looked up, seeing the green streak disappear into the upper floors. A slow, dark grin spread across his face. "Chaos," he whispered. "The best time to walk through the front door."
Inside, the carnage was instantaneous. Norman didn't say a word as he tilted the nose of his glider. The twin machine guns mounted to the wings roared to life, spraying the lab with high-caliber rounds. The researchers—the same men Hammer had been bullying moments ago—were shredded where they sat.
"Osborn's tech..." Hammer whispered from behind the pillar, his heart hammering against his ribs. He recognized the glider's silhouette from the intelligence files he'd stolen months ago. "Norman? Norman, is that you?! We can talk about this!"
"Justin! Come out and play!" the Goblin screamed, his voice a distorted, gravelly mess. He reached into a satchel and pulled out a spherical device that flickered with a haunting orange light. He tossed it casually toward the center of the room.
BOOM.
The pumpkin bomb vaporized the middle of the laboratory. The shockwave was so intense that the titanium pillar Hammer was hiding behind buckled like a soda can. Hammer was launched through the air, his expensive suit charred and his skin peppered with glass shards. He hit a server rack hard, blood leaking from a gash on his forehead.
"There you are," the Goblin hissed, stepping off his glider as it hovered nearby. He walked toward the crumpled Hammer with the slow, deliberate pace of a predator. "You took my funding. You took my future. Now, I think I'll take your head."
Hammer struggled to crawl backward, his fingers slipping in the blood of his employees. "Wait... Norman, listen... Stark is the enemy! Not me! I can help you!"
"I don't need help from a thief," Osborn snarled, his armored fist clenching. He raised his hand for a killing blow, the mechanical servos in his suit whining with power.
Hammer closed his eyes, bracing for the impact. He felt the rush of wind as the punch began—but the hit never landed.
Instead, a sharp CRACK like a lightning bolt echoed through the room. A high-frequency hum filled the air, followed by a scream of mechanical protest from Osborn's armor.
Hammer opened one eye.
A whip of pure, white-hot electrical energy was wrapped tightly around the Goblin's arm. The current was so strong it was short-circuiting the green armor's systems, sending sparks flying in every direction.
Standing in the doorway was a man who looked like he'd walked out of a Siberian gulag. He was shirtless under a crude, heavy harness of steel and wires. His chest was glowing with a brilliant, steady blue light.
"The reactor..." Hammer gasped, his eyes widening. "It's real..."
Vanko didn't look at Hammer. His eyes were locked on Osborn. With a savage grunt, he yanked the whip, the sheer strength of his augmented harness tearing the Goblin off his feet and slamming him into a nearby wall.
"Who are you?!" Osborn roared, rolling to his feet and summoning his glider back to his side. The glider let out a volley of suppressing fire, forcing Vanko to retract his whip and dive behind a fallen desk.