A roar of pure, incandescent fury erupted from the crater where Captain Marvel had been driven into the earth. The ground itself seemed to explode upwards as she burst out, wreathed in a blinding golden aura, her eyes burning like twin suns.
"Get. Out. Of. My. WAY!" she screamed, her voice a thunderclap.
She unleashed all the energy she'd been absorbing, blasting the Great Ape back with a concussive force that flattened trees for a mile. But the attack only served to fuel the monster's rage. Hit, hurt, and angry, the last vestiges of Ethan's consciousness were snuffed out, buried under an avalanche of primal instinct. It lowered its head and roared, a sound of pure, world-breaking destruction, and charged again.
The fight that followed was not a battle; it was a cataclysm. A kaiju movie come to life in the desolate Canadian Rockies. The air crackled and split with the sonic booms of their exchange. The Ape was a force of nature, a mountain of brute strength and seemingly limitless energy, its mouth a cannon that spewed torrents of destructive power without pause. Captain Marvel was a comet, a being of pure light and speed, weaving through the Ape's clumsy, continent-shattering blows, her own photon blasts scoring sizzling wounds across its thick, furred hide.
But for all her power, she couldn't land a decisive blow. The Ape was too durable, its sheer mass absorbing her attacks. And she was holding back. A part of her still saw the child inside the monster. A larger part of her had to constantly break away from the fight to intercept a stray energy blast that arced wildly towards the distant clearing where her husband and her agents were watching. If she didn't block it, one of those blasts would wipe them all from existence.
"Holy… sweet mother of God," Wolverine breathed, watching the spectacle from a safe distance as he herded the dazed Professor and the students towards the X-Jet. "I'll never call him 'little monkey' again. Ever."
He remembered Storm's warning from the night before, her quiet words about a second burst of power, about needing to cut off the boy's tail. He'd brushed it off then, the fanciful worry of a teacher. Now, watching the "little monkey" casually flatten a hill with a backhand swing, he felt a cold dread trickle down his spine. This wasn't a tantrum; this was an extinction-level event.
The ground beneath them shook continuously. The shockwaves from their blows felt like earthquakes. They had to get out of there. If one of those beams hit the dam, the resulting flood would be the stuff of legends. It was a small miracle that Stryker had built his base in the middle of nowhere; if this was happening near a city, the world would be forever changed.
Nick Fury, watching the same apocalyptic light show on a monitor inside his Quinjet, felt a cold knot of fury and frustration tighten in his gut. His plan had been perfect. A clean, surgical strike to decapitate both leaderships of the mutant movement at minimal cost. He hadn't accounted for a literal King Kong. If this continued, even if Maria won, the political and geological fallout would be a nightmare. His career would be buried under a mountain of paperwork and congressional hearings.
Both the X-Jet and the Quinjet lifted off, their engines whining, but neither left. They hovered at a safe distance, two vultures waiting to see which titan would fall. If Maria won, her speed meant the X-Jet couldn't escape. If the Ape won… Fury didn't even want to consider that outcome. For now, Maria seemed to have the upper hand, her speed and flight giving her a clear advantage. But it was a battle of attrition, and the Ape seemed to have endless energy to burn.
Inside the humming cockpit of the X-Jet, the mood was grim.
"Professor, what do we do?" Storm asked, her hands steady on the controls but her eyes wide with fear as she watched the devastation below. Ethan was lost inside that monster, and they couldn't just leave him. But they couldn't help him, either.
Professor X stared at the screen, his face a mask of weary resolve. Attacking would be suicide and would only draw the monster's fire. Fleeing was an abandonment he couldn't stomach. That left one option.
"Ororo, open a channel to the SHIELD vessel," he said, his voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil he felt. "I want to speak with Director Fury."
He knew he held one card they didn't: Fury had no idea that Ethan's transformation was temporary.
A moment later, Fury's stern, eyepatch-covered face appeared on their main viewscreen. "Xavier," he said, his voice a flat, non-negotiable bark.
"Director," Charles began, his tone that of a statesman, not a cornered fugitive. "If this continues, we both lose. The collateral damage is already staggering. Do you truly want to be the man who explains to the World Security Council how you started a war between humans and mutants over a misunderstanding, and leveled half of a national park in the process?"
He let the question hang in the air. On the other screen, the Ape swatted Maria out of the sky, sending her crashing through a thicket of pine trees.
Fury was silent, his one eye narrowed. The man was right. This was spiraling out of his control. But he'd be damned if he just let them walk away.
"So, what's your offer, Charles?"
"Let my students go," Xavier said, pressing his advantage. "Return to New York. I will personally deliver Colonel Stryker and all the evidence of his conspiracy to your headquarters for a full, cooperative investigation. We can end this, right now, with no more destruction."
It was a good offer. A damn good one. Fury's main objective—getting the mutant threat under his purview—would be achieved. He'd have Xavier in his debt and in his city. He'd still have Magneto in custody. It wasn't the total victory he'd wanted, but it was a clean, manageable end to a very messy situation. He was about to agree. He opened his mouth to accept the terms.
And then, on the battlefield, everything changed.
The Great Ape, which had been roaring in triumph over the spot where Captain Marvel had crashed, suddenly faltered. It clutched its massive head, its roar turning into a choked, gurgling gasp. It shuddered violently, and then it began to shrink.
Like a colossal balloon deflating, the monstrous form collapsed in on itself. The fur receded, the fangs vanished, the muscles withered. In a matter of seconds, the terrifying, god-like beast was gone, leaving only a small, naked, unconscious boy lying in the center of a crater the size of a football field.
On the bridge of the Quinjet, a slow, predatory smile spread across Nick Fury's face. The game had changed again. All the cards were back in his hand.
His voice, when it came over the comm, was no longer that of a negotiator. It was the voice of a victor.
"Professor Charles," he said, his tone dripping with cold, triumphant satisfaction. "I think you and your students had better come with me for that investigation now."