The air was thick with smoke, fire, and the sounds of distant explosions.
Dante back in his normal form moved through the chaos of the battlefield like a streak of lightning—wind from his movements whipping up dust as he weaved through heroes and blasts alike. His blade crackled with energy as he parried a glowing arrow mid-air, the force of the shot sending a sting through his arm.
He landed hard, skidding backward as his eyes locked onto the source.
Hawkeye.
Dante groaned. "Of course it's you," he muttered.
Hawkeye has been sniping at him for a while now always in the middle of chaos
The archer nocked another enchanted arrow with precision, but before he could release, a shimmering blast erupted from nearby—drawing Dante's attention.
A figure in robes appeared to phase through the very ground beneath him, then vanish and reappear again twenty feet up the mountain path. A wizard? Dante wasn't sure who he was, but he looked like he belonged more in a spellbook than on a battlefield. The man waved his arms in strange arcs and then vanished again, drifting up the rocky slope like smoke.
"Okay," Dante muttered, sword still in hand. "That was weird."
As he pressed forward, he caught glimpses of familiar motion—Kid Gladiator, barreling through fights, fists glowing, roaring with laughter as he traded blows with multiple Avengers. Dante and Kubark even ended up switching targets at one point—Kubark elbowed a red-armored woman aside only for Dante to block a repulsor blast meant for the Shi'ar prince.
They didn't speak during the fight. They didn't need to.
But eventually, both found themselves worn down.
they broke from the fight and retreated into a shallow cave nestled in the mountainside—hidden from immediate view. Their backs hit the cool rock wall almost at the same time.
Dante wiped a mix of sweat and dirt from his brow. The buzz of adrenaline still hadn't faded.
He turned to look at Kubark, who was already grinning.
"Dude," Dante said, catching his breath. "Are you alright?"
Kid Gladiator sat with his arms resting on his knees, his usual smirk intact. "I'm doing great," he said with a laugh. "I've been fighting some of the strongest opponents on Earth. This is probably the happiest day of my life."
Dante blinked at him. The enthusiasm was so… raw. So honest.
He shook his head slightly, both amused and frustrated.
"Kubark," Dante said, tone growing serious, "this isn't some kind of party."
The grin faded just slightly from Kid Gladiator's face.
"This is a war spreading across the planet. And the worst part? I don't know what the right side is."
He looked away for a moment, staring out at the orange hue of fire glowing on the mountain ridge.
"I'm only fighting on the side of the mutants right now because they believe the Phoenix could help them. Bring mutant kind back from near extinction. That's what they're hoping for."
He paused.
"But the Avengers… they think it's too dangerous. That no one can control it. That it'll destroy Earth instead of saving it. And honestly?"
He looked back at Kubark.
"I don't know who's right."
Silence.
Dante rested his head against the rock for a moment before continuing.
"All I know is… I want to help the people who helped me. Even if I've only been at the school for a few weeks, I've never felt out of place there. No matter how weird, how dangerous, how different someone is—they're accepted. Maybe not perfectly, but better than anywhere I've ever been."
He clenched his fist.
"I don't know much about the mutant race, or the Phoenix, or even the long history behind all of this. But I know that when I'm at that school, I feel like I belong. So yeah—I'll fight for us. For them."
He locked eyes with Kubark now.
"So if you're just here to joke around, if you're not going to take this seriously… maybe you should fly back to the school. Because this? This isn't a game."
Kid Gladiator didn't speak at first. He just stared at Dante, the firelight from outside casting sharp shadows across his face.
For once, he didn't have anything to say.
The silence between them stretched on, but there was no more that needed to be said.
Without another word, Dante and Kid Gladiator stepped out of the cave and into the fading light. The battlefield had quieted—for now. Ash drifted gently from the sky like snow. The fires had mostly died down, but smoke still curled in the distance. Rubble littered the paths where teams had clashed and pulled back.
They stood there for a moment, taking it in.
And then something changed.
Dante paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing.
The sky was still bright with the dying light of day, but something shimmered far above. The moon was faint, nearly washed out by the sun—but in the corner of the sky, a radiant glow flared suddenly into existence.
And then it exploded.
A wave of pressure—raw, cosmic, and terrifying—rushed over him, washing through every cell in his body. He stumbled back a step, breath caught in his chest. He couldn't even see the source yet—but he felt it.
He didn't need to ask what it was.
He already knew.
The Phoenix.
It wasn't subtle. It wasn't restrained. The presence of it tore through the atmosphere like a scream. He had never sensed anything this powerful before—not even close. It reached far beyond his range of awareness, so intense that even his perception brushed against its force all the way from orbit.
But something about it was off.
Just as quickly as it arrived, the energy—split.
Dante gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as he instinctively tried to track it. The overwhelming force suddenly fractured, dividing itself into five distinct signatures.
"What the hell…?" he whispered under his breath.
Why would something that powerful—something that was meant to be whole—suddenly break apart?
And why did each new presence feel… weaker?
Confused and on edge, Dante didn't have time to piece it together.
Because suddenly, everyone began to retreat.
It didn't feel like an organized withdrawal. It was panicked. Frantic. Even the most confident fighters were moving quickly now, their faces drawn, their eyes scanning the sky like they expected something worse to follow.
"Dante!" Kid Gladiator shouted, grabbing his arm. "Come on!"
The two of them were swept into the stream of bodies pulling back. Dante moved with the crowd, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the swirl of motion, the chaos, and the psychic noise left him disoriented.
By the time he could finally catch his breath—
—they weren't in the mountains anymore.
They were in Utopia.
The change in scenery hit him like a slap. The walls were smooth, modern, strangely pristine. Tall towers of mutant-designed architecture rose all around him. Blue glass and carved stone shone under artificial lights. There were banners, symbols, and murals he'd only ever seen online.
Dante stopped walking.
This… wasn't supposed to happen.
He was supposed to go back to the Jean Grey School.
Not here.
Not Utopia.
He'd read about it—seen pictures, watched shaky drone videos that people posted before being banned for "mutant profiling." From a distance, it looked beautiful. And now, standing inside it, he had to admit—it was.
But it didn't feel like a home.
It felt like a warning.
He remembered overhearing teachers talk about Utopia—never openly, always in passing, always stopping mid-sentence when they realized he was nearby. That told him enough. It was important. It was controversial. And it definitely wasn't where he was meant to be.
Now that he was here… would they even let him leave?
The moment that question entered his mind, a knot twisted in his stomach.
He followed the others quietly until someone waved him toward a side hallway. They gave him a number. A room. A bed.
He didn't argue.
The room he was given was clean, orderly—like a hotel or medical dormitory. The sheets were folded, the lighting dimmed to a soft ambient tone. Everything about it screamed that it had been prepared for someone—but not him.
He sat down on the edge of the bed.
The mattress barely creaked beneath his weight. The walls were too quiet. The air too still.
It didn't feel like his room.
Didn't feel like it belonged to anyone.
Dante exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking.
He didn't know what would happen next. If they'd let him leave. If the school would even take him back. He didn't know where the Phoenix had gone or what those five splits meant.
But right now?
There was nothing he could do.
So he laid back, eyes half-open, and let the pull of exhaustion take him.
He just needed a quick nap.
Then he'd face everything else.