"Since you've been doing human experiments, can you estimate the success rate of awakening?" Ethan asked, his tone sharp and inquisitive.
"The odds of an ordinary person awakening are around 33%," said Stern, he continued,
"If the X-gene isn't activated, there's minimal effect. But those who do awaken with an active X-gene... well, they're the real problem. Roughly one-third of them lose control of their powers entirely. We call them defective mutations."
Ethan crossed his arms, frowning. "So basically, one out of three has a shot, but even then, it's a gamble with your life."
It was tempting—superpowers in a bottle. But the cost?
More than half the time, you'd end up as a failed experiment locked away in some lab, barely human.
Who would risk that?
"If the awakening success rate has improved so much, why hasn't the defect rate dropped? Wasn't Kree data supposed to help?" Ethan asked, clearly frustrated.
"Oh, the Kree data helped, no doubt," Stern replied, pulling up a holographic genetic map. "But there's a problem. The Kree based their experiments on the genes of our ancient ancestors."
He pointed at highlighted gene strands. "According to our research, mutants originally came from ancient humans—basic, primal beings. The closest fusion point was between 20,000 to 30,000 years ago. Our current genes just don't sync perfectly with Kree-level engineering anymore."
"Okay, fine," Ethan said with a tense jaw. "Then what's the solution?"
"If we could obtain samples of original mutant DNA—those ancient genes—we could compare them with modern ones. That would let us fix the instability. It could drop the defect rate below one percent."
At that moment, the White Queen stepped forward, a sly smile on her face. "Then you'll love this. Magneto just sent word—the Brotherhood's located Apocalypse."
Ethan's eyes lit up. "We finally found him? Does Professor X know yet? We need to move together on this."
·······
Aboard the stealth aircraft of the Mutant Academy, Magneto and the White Queen arrived.
Professor X was already onboard, accompanied by veteran X-Men like Wolverine.
The mission was too risky for the younger generation—Ethan was the only exception.
"Ethan, you did great work back at the lab," Magneto said, clapping him on the shoulder. "When can we mass-produce the X-gene formula? I'm ready to commit all our resources."
"Eric, don't be so eager," Professor X said, rolling forward in his wheelchair. "I've seen the formula too. It's not ready. If you rush it, you'll risk ending up like him." He nodded at Ethan.
"Young people need freedom to grow," Magneto said. "We guide them, not control them."
Charles gave a tired smile. "It's been a long time since we fought side by side."
"Yeah," Magneto agreed, glancing at the fading sky outside. "Too long."
Everyone grew quiet. Storm started the engines, and the jet turned eastward toward Egypt.
·······
By the time they reached Egypt, night had fallen.
The desert winds howled softly.
If they had arrived during the day, perhaps the Professor would've accidentally awakened Apocalypse with a mental pulse—and he'd emerge, shouting about who disturbed his slumber.
As the jet landed in the dunes, a familiar figure approached: Mystique.
"Raven, what's the status?" Magneto asked as he stepped onto the sand.
"Apocalypse's tomb lies beneath this desert," she said. "We've already dug the entrance, but we sealed it again for safety."
"Smart call," Ethan nodded. "He's an Omega-level mutant, after all. We can't afford surprises."
Mystique hesitated, then asked, "And what if he's still alive? Are we going to recruit him?"
"Of course not. We'll deal with him after we taking what we need from him—after that, I'll kill him for good," Ethan said, not even glancing back.
"Yeah, Apocalypse is technically one of us—a mutant—but do you really think someone from 5,000 years ago would share our values? He's not just outdated—he's dangerous. Apocalypse isn't just a mutant. He's a predator. He absorbs powers. Half the people here probably look like a buffet to him."
"That's true," Mystique murmured after a pause, nodding slowly.
Without waiting for more input, Ethan turned to Professor X and Magneto.
After a brief discussion, they agreed that Ethan and Jean Grey would scout ahead.
As they descended into the tomb, the air thick with ancient dust and a strange pressure, Jean suddenly stopped. "You feel that? There's something alive down here. He's not dead."
"Yeah," Ethan said, glancing back. "You feel it too?"
Jean's hair had begun to glow, fiery strands swirling around her head like a living flame.
Her meditation training had helped stabilize her Phoenix power, but it was still raw—still growing.
She was a full Omega-level mutant now, and the strength inside her continued to build.
But so did the risk of losing control.
"Then let's prep," Ethan said.
He reached into a portal from a device on his belt—a tech upgrade from Forge—and began pulling out crates of high-grade TNT.
Jean raised an eyebrow. "This is your version of preparation?"
"Hey, we're dealing with is a mutant that became a godlike figure 5000 years ago. Can't be too careful. Wait—are these going to hurt you?"
Jean gave a calm shrug. "Doubt it. The Phoenix Force isn't bothered by explosives."
With the charges set, the two finally reached the central chamber.
Jean lit up a fireball in her palm, casting flickering light across the ancient stone walls.
Lying on a golden rune-covered slab was a bald man clad in armor, his skin a grayish-blue.
Apocalypse.
A mutant who had been in stasis for five millennia—untouched by time.
Until now.
His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he sat up.
"Oh hell no. Seriously? Five thousand years of sleep and he wakes up the moment we walk in?" Ethan muttered, frozen mid-step.
Apocalypse scanned the room.
His gaze landed on Ethan and Jean, and after a moment of eerie silence, a voice echoed in both their minds.
"I feel it… the call of my kin. You awakened me… my powerful children."
Neither Jean nor Ethan spoke.
Neither had expected Apocalypse to wake just from sensing them.
Then Apocalypse looked upward, his voice no longer in their heads but spoken aloud in fluent English. "I sense many of our kind outside. Have they come to greet me? To witness the return of their god?"
Language posed no issue for Apocalypse.
Among the many powers he had stolen, rapid linguistic adaptation was one of them.
Ethan blinked, then quickly masked his surprise with a wide grin and overly dramatic tone. "Yes, Lord Apocalypse. We searched far and wide to find you, and… we were starting to lose hope. But you live."
He stepped forward, voice catching with forced emotion. "This… this is our tribute to you. A humble offering. Please, accept it."
Ethan pulled a massive TNT bomb from the same portal ring, presenting it with mock reverence like it was some sacred relic.
When Jean first laid eyes on Apocalypse, her telepathic senses immediately picked up something dark.
There was a predatory hunger in his eyes — not curiosity or confusion, but the kind of look a hunter gives before striking.
The ancient mutant didn't radiate peace; he radiated power barely restrained.
Before she could warn Ethan, she noticed him bowing his head, eyes lit with excitement.
When he offered Apocalypse the so-called "gift," Jean could only stare, speechless.
It was a massive block of TNT.
She couldn't tell if Ethan was being serious or planning something insane.
Strangely, Apocalypse looked... pleased.
Of course, he had no idea what TNT was.
Still a bit dazed from waking after five millennia, he simply assumed the device — with its refined metallic finish and unfamiliar design — was some kind of sacred artifact.
Compared to the crude tools he once helped early humans forge, this thing looked like divine craftsmanship.
"How long have I slept? What's become of my kind?" Apocalypse asked, his voice deep and commanding.
Even though he liked the gift, he had to maintain his air of godhood.
"Lord Apocalypse, you've been asleep for five thousand years," Ethan replied solemnly.
He launched into a dramatic tale about the fall of mutantkind — how their legacy had been lost, how humans rose with technology and turned on mutants with fear and hatred.
Ethan's tone was full of sorrow.
He made it sound like only Apocalypse could lead them back into greatness, that they needed his wisdom and strength more than ever.
Apocalypse scoffed. "Foolish mortals. Even with power, they remain blind."
He turned his gaze toward the entrance, feeling the presence of more mutants.
His lips curled into a confident smirk. "But you no longer need to fear. Your god has returned. Swear loyalty to me, and I will raise you up. I will show the world our power again."
Apocalypse meant every word.
He was already an Omega-level mutant, and he could sense Jean's energy — pure, raw, and exactly what he needed.
If he could absorb that power, he'd be one step closer to his ultimate evolution.
He'd become more than a god — he'd be untouchable.
"You're right... our god," Ethan nodded, stepping closer with a fake reverence.
He held up the massive bomb. "But first, please accept this humble tribute."
Apocalypse smiled. "You are worthy. I accept you as my new horseman."
He could see their potential.
With time and training, they'd make excellent champions — or so he thought. H
e reached out and took the bomb in one hand, raising it with curiosity. "Now, tell me — what kind of power does this object hold?"
"A masterpiece," Ethan replied. "Let me show you its true beauty."
He discreetly attached a small remote-controlled detonator to the bomb.
It was a standard military model he'd pulled from their jet earlier — perfect for what he had in mind.
Apocalypse noticed Ethan backing away slowly. "Why do you retreat?"
"Because only someone like you deserves to witness this kind of art up close," Ethan said with a smirk. "Are you ready? Take it all in — this is the magnitude of modern art."
Without hesitation, Ethan pressed the button on the remote.
Boom… BOOM~!
The high-yield bomb exploded in a flash of white-hot fire. But that wasn't all.
Hidden deeper in the tomb were several more charges — over ten tons of TNT, buried and rigged by Ethan ahead of time.
The combined force rivaled that of a tactical nuke.
The explosion ripped through the underground tomb.
Above ground, Magneto, Professor X, and the rest felt the earth tremble beneath them.
A blast of searing flame burst through the sand, forming a massive mushroom cloud as debris rained down from the sky.