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I AM DESPERATE!
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{Chapter: 51 - Found Blink}
In the shadow of a crumbling skyline, where the bones of industrial civilization lay rusting and forgotten, the wind howled through the broken windows of an abandoned steel factory. Dusty shafts of sunlight cut through the gloom, highlighting rust-streaked girders and graffiti-covered walls. Amid the skeletal remnants of machinery, a quiet tune floated into the air—soft, almost whimsical.
A woman sat cross-legged on a threadbare blanket she had salvaged from a nearby shelter. She wore a black leather coat frayed at the cuffs, and her boots were scuffed from weeks of prowling alleyways and slipping through shadows. Her skin shimmered with a soft lavender hue, a rare and exotic tone that made her stand out even in a crowd of anomalies. Her vivid magenta hair cascaded in wild, silky waves around her shoulders, the vibrant strands begging to be touched. Her glowing green eyes—pupil-less and piercing—held a dangerous, hypnotic beauty, like emeralds lit from within. Framing them were symmetrical, diamond-shaped markings etched delicately across her cheeks and forehead, not merely decoration, but a signature of her alien grace. With an attractive hourglass figure that offer otherworldly allure and sensuality.
Clarice Ferguson—known in some hidden corners of the mutant underground as "Blink"—took a bite from a fast-food burger she had scrounged earlier in the day. It was cold and slightly soggy, but it tasted like a feast after the week she'd had. She hummed softly to herself, the tune an old lullaby she barely remembered, passed down from a time before orphanages and mutant raids.
Though outwardly calm, her eyes constantly flicked toward the corners of the room, the doors, the shattered windows. Her instincts had been honed by fear, sharpened by survival. She never stayed in one place for long. Trust was a luxury, and safety was an illusion.
She had not always been so composed. Years ago, when her powers first manifested, she had blacked out from the sheer trauma of it. When she came to, she found herself lying in a pool of blood that wasn't hers—surrounded by carnage her mind couldn't comprehend. That moment had marked her forever. The portals she generated—ethereal, shimmering ovals in shades of pink—had once sliced through people and objects alike, warping space with terrifying consequences. Innocents had died. Friends had fled. She had hated herself for it.
But time and survival had forged her. Clarice learned control. She learned focus. She learned purpose. She wandered from city to city, helping others like herself—runaways, outcasts, mutants who had no one to turn to. Just the other day, she had rescued a young mutant girl who had accidentally revealed her powers in a crowded train station. The girl had bone spikes that grew from her arms and two hearts that beat in unison. The authorities were seconds away from hauling her into a van before Clarice opened a portal and whisked them both away.
Now, as she sat beneath a cracked skylight, finishing her meal and licking sauce from her fingers, her humming suddenly stopped. Her green eyes narrowed as something caught her attention—a distant flicker in the sky, an object glowing with intense orange fire, falling fast like a meteor from the skies.
A faint vibration ran through the concrete beneath her. The air crackled.
CRACK!
The factory windows shattered in an instant, shards of glass flying like crystal shrapnel. Clarice threw herself behind a pile of old crates instinctively, pink crystals appeared in her hand as the portal beginning to shimmer at her fingertips.
The flaming object slammed into the ground with explosive force, sending a blast of wind and ash in all directions. For a moment, smoke and debris clouded her vision—but when it cleared, she saw a man standing in the middle of a blackened crater, surrounded by scorched earth.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and surrounded by the faint glow of residual heat. His clothes were intact, protected by an invisible layer of telekinetic energy that shimmered subtly around him. He adjusted the collar of his jacket and looked down at his unburnt clothes with a satisfied nod.
Aiden.
He stepped forward with a calm, confident stride, his gaze fixed on the wary yet sexy figure crouched behind the crates.
Clarice didn't hesitate. She stood up with the crystal in her hands glowing pink, preparing to open a portal at a moment's notice—either to flee or to strike. Her body was tensed like a spring. She didn't trust strangers. She didn't trust anyone.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, voice sharp and clear.
Aiden stopped, raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, and offered a warm, disarming smile. "Easy now. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help. My name is Aiden, and I've come to invite you to join my team."
Clarice narrowed her eyes, skeptical. "Never heard of you. And I'm not interested in joining anyone's team. That's how people die."
"Fair enough," Aiden said, undeterred. "But maybe you'll hear me out anyway."
He took a slow step forward, his voice calm and measured. "Your name is Clarice Ferguson. You were born in an orphanage outside Milwaukee. You awakened your mutant ability unexpectedly. You fainted the first time you used it—and woke up surrounded by blood. Not your fault, but it haunted you. For a while, your portals were dangerous… uncontrolled. But eventually, you mastered them. Since then, you've been traveling the country, saving other mutants when you can. Just a few days ago, you rescued a girl with bone manipulation powers and a healing factor, didn't you?"
Clarice stiffened. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands clenched the pink crystals tighter, and the energy in them pulsed brighter.
"How do you know all that?" she asked, her voice low. "Were you spying on me?"
"No," Aiden replied, meeting her eyes. "I have visions. Not always clear, not always complete. But I see things. Glimpses of what's to come. Pieces of what's already happened. It's a gift… and a curse."
He took another step forward, slowly, respectfully. "Clarice, I saw what's coming. Mutants will face horrors far worse than what we've seen so far. Governments, shadow organizations, alien threats, even extinction-level events. The kind of genocide that'll make history books weep."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"You're strong, but you can't stop it alone. None of us can. That's why I'm building something. A team. A new kind of force—independent of SHIELD, outside of the X-Men, and Brotherhood outside of anyone's leash. People like us… people who can fight back before it's too late."
Clarice stared at him, conflicted. Part of her wanted to trust him. Deep inside her heart a feeling was telling her to trust him. There was something in his tone—something raw, something sincere. But the years had taught her that sincerity could be faked, and trust could get you killed.
"Why me?" she asked quietly. "There are stronger mutants out there. More famous ones. I'm not… I'm not a leader."
Aiden smiled softly. "I'm not looking for followers. I'm looking for people with heart. People who've already risked everything for others without asking for anything in return. You've saved lives, Clarice. Even when you were afraid of yourself. That means more than you think."
The silence stretched between them. Then, Clarice slowly let the portal energy in her hands fade. The soft glow blinked out like a dying ember.
"So? If I can't do it myself, you're saying I should just believe that I can save them with your help?" Clarice's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across her green irises like storm clouds churning behind glass. Her voice had a sharper edge now, no longer casual, but laced with disbelief and a hint of pain. "Not to mention, how do I even know if what you're saying isn't complete bullshit? For all I know, you're just another freak from those twisted mutant experiment groups… trying to lure me in."
Her words echoed through the hollow space of the abandoned factory. Wind howled softly outside, rattling loose bits of metal in the rafters. Dust swirled near the broken windows as if the building itself were holding its breath, waiting.
Aiden didn't flinch. He met her piercing gaze with a calm, unwavering one of his own. There was no trace of anger or irritation, only something deeper—conviction.
"I get it," he said softly. "You've been lied to. Hunted. Watched your friends disappear into dark vans and never come back. I'm not going to ask you to blindly believe me."
He stepped forward slowly, careful not to move too fast or too suddenly, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture.
"But listen to this, Clarice," he continued, his voice firmer now, like steel wrapped in velvet. "I'm not one of those bastards. I won't sit back while our kind are hunted like animals, while the world marches toward a future of fire, blood, and extinction. I refuse to let that happen. Not without a fight."
Aiden's eyes flashed as heat shimmered faintly around him. His passion wasn't a show—it radiated from him.
"For this ideal," he said, each word deliberate, each syllable ringing with clarity, "I'm willing to pay any price. Even if it means my life."
There was a brief pause as he let those words hang in the air.
"As for whether I'm lying… I won't force you to trust me. See it for yourself. Come with me. Watch. Judge with your own eyes. And if you think I'm full of it? You walk away. No strings. No consequences."
He extended his hand toward her—calm, open, sincere. But beneath that calm, Aiden focused his telepathy, sending soft ripples of suggestion into Clarice's mind. Not domination, not manipulation, but subtle encouragement, amplifying the part of her that wanted to believe, that yearned for something more. A psychic whisper: You can trust me.
As he was doing what Charles Xavier always does Charles Xavier was noted to have a { trust me } telepathic field around himself. If memories served, that was how he was able to gain so many people on his side with a smile and few words. Aiden figured out a field like that would work, and would be a reverse of the Jedi mind trick with a positivity twist. And he already tried it on many people.
"Haven't you wondered enough, Clarice?" he asked gently. "Don't you want a place where you belong? A family that doesn't vanish in the night or bleed out in alleyways? Come with me. Together, we'll make this world better—for mutants, and for the humans who are brave enough to stand beside us."
Clarice blinked, and for a moment, her hand hovered uncertainty in the air, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. She could feel something pressing against the walls she had built around herself. The hunger for trust. The desire to belong. The exhaustion of endless wandering, of never feeling safe—not even in sleep.
His words struck something tender and unguarded within her—a place she'd kept hidden, perhaps even from herself. And the warmth that radiated from Aiden's presence… it wasn't just comfort. It felt like home. The kind she'd never known, yet always longed for.
These words deeply stabbed into young Clarice's heart and made her emotional. Although she had a lot of freedom, whenever she was alone, she felt a sense of loneliness in the deep recesses of her heart. 'Maybe I should join him?'
Aiden exhaled slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
'It's working,' he thought.
'From the moment I met her, I've been projecting trust in her mind—subtle, invisible threads encouraging her to believe that following me was not just smart… but inevitable. Associating her thoughts that working for me will benefit her the most.
And it wasn't a lie,' he mused. 'I intended to give her everything I promised—and more. I was going to enhance her so thoroughly, she'd one day stand shoulder to shoulder with some of the X-Men's heavy hitters. Maybe even outshine them.'
"Promise me something," she said, her voice still hard, but the edge dulled by emotion. "If the time comes—and it will—you'll fight for us. If the world turns on us, if they start rounding us up again like livestock… You'll stand with us, the mutants. Not above. Not behind. With us."
"I promise," Aiden replied without hesitation. His face was solemn now, his voice ironclad. 'Especially if it involves protecting beautiful women like you,' he added in his mind—but of course, that part he kept to himself.
Clarice hesitated… and then finally, her hand met his.
"Fine," she said. "I'll follow you… for now. But know this—if I find out that what you're doing doesn't match what you're saying, or if you ever betray mutantkind in any way… I won't hesitate to leave. Or worse."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Aiden said with a smirk. Inwardly, he was ecstatic. Clarice Ferguson—no, Blink—was no small name. Recruiting her was like setting the first cornerstone for a towering structure. And he had done it smoothly. A half-truth here, a softened word there, the right timing…the trust me field and his natural charm.
Honestly, if a bald old man in a wheelchair had tried the same pitch with talk about "mutant-human coexistence," she probably would've laughed and teleported away. But Aiden had something they didn't: youth, presence, instinct—and, of course, the telepathic 'Trust Me' field that he kept subtly pulsing.
It was almost unfair.
"You'll need a codename," Aiden said, looking her up and down. "Something powerful. Something memorable. Something that will echo across the world one day."
Clarice raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh yeah? What are you thinking?"
He smiled.
"From now on, you'll be known as Blink. It suits you. Short. Fast. Mysterious. It'll strike fear into anyone who hears it."
"Blink…" She rolled the name on her tongue, then nodded with growing satisfaction. "Yeah. I like that. Blink it is. Sounds like someone you don't want to mess with."
"Exactly," Aiden said, his grin widening.
Blink adjusted the straps on her leather coat, stretching a little and cracking her knuckles as a soft, shimmering glow began to swirl around her fingers.
"So," she said, glancing at him. "What's the plan now, boss?"
"I want to see your powers in action," Aiden said. "Up close. No holding back."
"You sure?" Blink smirked. "You might regret asking that."
She stepped away from him, her bare fingers glowing now with crystalline pink light.
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