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As the swirling hum of the gateway quieted and they stepped into the cool, late-night air of New York, Emma Frost crossed her arms, her heels clicking against the rooftop concrete. She scanned the skyline with a faint smirk, but her attention quickly shifted to Aiden.
"So what is this?" she asked, tone sharp but measured. "Some kind of field test? A loyalty check? Want to see if we're going to stab you in the back?"
Aiden didn't slow his pace. The wind tugged at his coat as he walked toward the edge of the rooftop. "Kind of, yeah. Not loyalty though—not really. I already know where you both stand."
Emma raised an eyebrow. Mystique watched him closely, her expression unreadable.
Aiden turned to face them, his voice low and resolute. "Truth is, I don't need to trust you. You both already know what happens if you cross me." His eyes glinted with something colder than threat—it was certainty. "You don't get second chances. You either do the job right—or you leave. Anything beyond that… and I end you."
He let the words linger in the silence before continuing. "But no—this isn't about trust. This is a different kind of test. I want to see how useful you are. How strong you are. I want to know when, how, and where I can use you. Your worth doesn't come from what you were, it comes from what you can do now—and what you can become under my command."
Mystique narrowed her eyes, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "Isn't it obvious? I'm best suited for infiltration. Disguise, manipulation, slipping in and out unnoticed—that's what I do."
Aiden shrugged. "Sure, you'd say that. But to me? That ain't enough. One-trick ponies don't last long around me. If you want to stay on this team, you need to prove you're useful in more ways than one."
Mystique didn't reply, though her lips pressed into a thin line.
Emma scoffed softly, brushing a strand of platinum hair behind her ear. "I suppose that applies to her," she said with a tilt of her head toward Mystique, "but what about me? I'm clearly much more versatile. Telepathy, diamond form, combat training. I'm not just a one-note psychic."
Aiden smirked, stepping closer to her now. "You?" His voice dropped an octave. "You're here to be observed. Not for your power—I already know you're powerful. But for your restraint. Your judgment. You're dangerous, Emma—too dangerous, sometimes. You've made bad calls before, ones that cost lives."
Emma's expression twitched, but she didn't speak.
"I need to see," he continued, voice calm but firm, "just how well you can control yourself. I want to know if you're gonna be a weapon for us—or a bomb waiting to go off in my face."
He turned back toward the rooftop exit, voice carrying over his shoulder. "So yeah, this is a test. Not of your loyalty... but of your worth. Impress me—and maybe you'll earn more than just a second chance."
Mystique and Emma exchanged a brief glance. For once, neither of them had anything smug to say.
...
As they entered the underground complex of the Morlocks, the familiar scent of rusted pipes and damp stone filled the air. The halls, dimly lit and echoing with low murmurs, were noticeably more tense than usual. Yet despite the somber mood, many faces lit up the moment they saw Aiden. Some gave subtle nods, others offered quick greetings, and a few even smiled in genuine relief. His reputation had only grown since the Galactus incident—among the Morlocks, he was more than a symbol of power. He was hope.
But Aiden didn't return the smiles today. Not when the air felt this heavy.
As he, Emma, and Mystique followed the twisting tunnels toward the operations room, Aiden's sharp eyes caught something that made his gut tighten. Too many faces looked… hollow. Haunted. Eyes sunken, shoulders slumped, spirits fractured. These weren't just tired mutants—they were afraid.
When they entered the operations room, Callisto stood immediately, her single eye locked on him. "Aiden… you're here. Good. We need to talk. It's important."
Aiden tilted his head, frowning slightly. "Didn't sound urgent on the call. You just said you needed a favor. Now you look like the world's ending. What's going on?"
Callisto's gaze flicked to the two women behind him—one in pristine white, the other a living mask of control and danger. Her expression turned scornful.
"What are they doing here?"
"Field test," Aiden said casually. "Interns, if you want to call them that. Don't worry—they're not dumb enough to try anything. Just treat them like shadows and keep going. What's the problem?"
Callisto let out a breath and sat, motioning for them to do the same. Aiden dropped into the chair opposite her, one leg lazily crossing over the other. Mystique and Emma remained standing, observing like hawks.
"It's not my problem," Callisto said, voice low. "It's ours. All of ours. It's the mutants, Aiden…"
Aiden leaned forward. "Elaborate."
Callisto reached under the table and pulled out a thick stack of paper—names upon names, handwritten, crossed, rechecked.
"Two days after Galactus… that's when it started. At first, we thought it was the usual. Mutants disappearing happens. Some run, some die, some get into trouble. But this… this is different."
She handed the first list over. Aiden scanned it quickly, eyes narrowing, then passed it to Mystique and Emma.
"This is insane," Mystique muttered. "There's over a hundred names here. All gone in the last seven days?"
Callisto nodded grimly. "That list? Just last week. 127 mutants. I've got two more."
She dropped the next lists with a heavy thud. The room went still.
"Week before that: 143. Week before that: 162. Four hundred and thirty-two mutants gone in three weeks. And yes… some of them were Morlocks. People I knew. They even got Leech and Anole."
Emma's brow furrowed as she scanned the names. "This is a coordinated operation. Organized. Efficient. Not some random hate group."
Aiden's jaw tightened. "So what? No witnesses? No signs? Nobody caught anything?"
Callisto shook her head. "That's what we thought. Until yesterday."
Her expression shifted, eyes landing on Emma.
"You're in luck. I was planning to bring this to Charles, but you'll do better. We do have one witness—sort of."
She stood, grabbing a thin folder and tossing it on the table. Inside were photos of a man—mid-30s, ragged clothes, blank eyes. His face slack, drooling. There was nothing behind those eyes. Just... absence.
"Human," Callisto explained. "Racist scum. Picked a fight with one of our kids outside a bar. Friends say they both stepped out to settle it—and then? Boom. Our guy's gone. This piece of trash was found minutes later, unconscious. Still breathing, but brain-dead. His memories of the last three days? Gone. Ripped out."
She looked directly at Emma now. "You think you can pull something from that empty head of his?"
Emma tilted her chin thoughtfully. "If his mind's completely broken, there might not be anything to pull. But…" she glanced at the photo, then back to Aiden, "...if there is even a thread left, I'll find it. No one tears through minds better than me—except maybe Charles."
"Then let's not waste time," Aiden said, already rising from his seat. "Take us to him."
Callisto nodded and gestured for them to follow. As they moved through the halls, Aiden's voice was low, just enough for Emma and Mystique to hear.
"Four hundred and thirty-two mutants… and no one's made a move yet. Whoever's behind this—they're careful. They're smart."
Mystique's voice was cold. "Or they're so dangerous no one's lived long enough to expose them."
Aiden didn't reply. But his eyes gleamed with a fire that said exactly what he was thinking:
"We'll see about that."
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Lord of Chaos In Dc!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !