Looking across all the mutants in the world, their abilities were as diverse as the stars in the sky. Fire, ice, lightning, psychic force, steel-like bodies, and more—there was almost no limit to what might manifest.
But in the broadest sense, these powers could be roughly divided into two great categories.
The first was combat-oriented.
The most typical example was, of course, Alex—an existence who had already transcended the boundaries of what "combat power" could even mean. Following him were figures like Magneto Erik, who could command the magnetic field of the Earth itself, Cyclops Scott with his destructive optic beams, and Liz Sherman whose flames burned hotter than hellfire.
The second category was support-oriented.
These mutants might not have direct offensive capability, but their functions in reconnaissance, intelligence, strategy, and infiltration were invaluable. Professor X Charles stood at the very pinnacle of this category, with his unmatched telepathy. Mystique Raven, too, embodied this type—her shapeshifting was the perfect tool for infiltration and manipulation.
Of course, this was only a simplified classification. Many mutants straddled the boundary between the two, able to serve both roles depending on the battlefield. Vincent, the current rising star of the X-Men, was a prime example.
Yet no matter how they classified themselves, one thing was clear: Charles had always been regarded as a support figure.
Reconnaissance, mind-reading, battlefield coordination—these were the areas where he shone. Few had ever considered his telepathic gift as a weapon of destruction.
So much so, in fact, that even the mutants themselves had forgotten that Charles's ability could kill.
And not just kill—it was the most flawless, most efficient execution one could imagine.
When Charles poured overwhelming psychic energy directly into another's mind, the fragile brain simply couldn't withstand the shock. The target's mind collapsed, the nervous system shut down, and death came in an instant.
No wounds. No blood. No trace.
Even more terrifying—Charles's psychic reach transcended borders. He could strike down someone across the ocean as easily as if they stood before him. An invisible executioner whose blade no one could see coming.
It was, in truth, the perfect murder.
If not for Charles's fundamentally compassionate nature, if not for his deep-rooted aversion to killing, he might have already become the most terrifying assassin in history. If his heart were as radical as Erik's, even Alex himself would have to tread carefully around him.
"Why didn't I think of that before?"
Erik slapped his own forehead, then clapped Charles on the shoulder with genuine excitement. "Charles, that method is brilliant!"
"That's right! If it's you, none of the problems we're worried about will exist!" Raven echoed, her golden eyes gleaming with anticipation.
But Charles only shook his head again and again. His lips pressed into a tight line.
"No… I can't do that. My ability is not meant for killing."
This was his底线 (dǐxiàn)—his deepest boundary. Even against enemies, Charles had never directly snuffed out a life. He would disable, he would restrain, he would erase memories, but to outright kill someone by crushing their mind? No.
"They aren't people," White Queen interjected with a cool smile, her words sharp as a blade.
The others joined in, teasing, cajoling, half out of genuine hope and half out of curiosity—what would it look like if Charles truly unleashed his psychic might as a weapon?
But Charles's nature wasn't so easily swayed. Even knowing it was the most perfect method, even knowing it would save time and danger, he couldn't cross that line in his heart.
"Alright, everyone. Don't make things difficult for Charles."
It was Alex who finally stepped in, his voice carrying the weight that instantly stilled the room. He had merely voiced the idea—it wasn't something he was going to force Charles into.
If Charles couldn't do it, Alex would.
"Charles, leave those people to me. You just focus on what only you can do. Is that alright?"
Charles let out a breath and nodded. "Of course."
"Good. Then let's start. Emma?" Alex stretched out his hand toward White Queen.
There was no other way. Charles's telepathy couldn't breach Alex's system-protected mind. To link with Cerebro and find targets across the globe, Alex needed White Queen as his bridge.
Moreover, with her refined telepathic talents, she could cloak Alex's presence, allowing him to slip anywhere silently. Just as they had done when they infiltrated the intelligence agency and even the Pentagon before.
"Happy to oblige." Emma smiled faintly, her voice like velvet with a hint of mischief. "Truthfully, I miss the days when we fought side by side."
She pressed close, activating the miniature Cerebro Hank had specially built for her, then wrapped her arms around Alex.
Boom!
A thunderous sonic boom split the air. In the blink of an eye, the two of them vanished.
With Alex personally taking action, the result was already written.
Half an hour. That was all it took.
Across the entire United States, every Skrull and every Kree agent lurking in the shadows was exterminated. Not one survived.
And it was done so silently, so cleanly, that not even a whisper reached the surface world.
Their bodies? Handed over to Alex's vampire subordinates, disposed of without leaving the faintest trace. Their names, their roles, their cover identities? Erased by the combined telepathic might of White Queen and Charles, their existence smudged out of human memory as if they had never been.
By the time Alex and Emma returned, the infiltrators had truly died in silence.
No alarms. No witnesses. Not even a ripple disturbed the surface of human society.
For now, Earth was clean.
But everyone knew—it was only temporary.
Sooner or later, the Kree and Skrulls would notice that their Earth operatives had gone dark. And when that happened, their retaliation would come like a storm.
The mutants, however, were already prepared.
And Alex, more than anyone, knew what was coming. With his foreknowledge, he understood the true weight of the Kree and Skrulls.
Frankly speaking, he wasn't afraid.
He might not yet have the overwhelming force to cow Ronan the Accuser the way Captain Marvel once did, but facing an ordinary Kree fleet? That wasn't even worth mentioning.
Hadn't his aerial battle against the Skrull armada already proven this?
"Everyone," Alex finally said, his gaze sweeping across his comrades, "the matter of the Skrulls and Kree on Earth is settled. From this moment, carry on as usual. There's no need to burden yourselves with worry."
His calmness was infectious. And so, in the days that followed, life among the mutants returned to its rhythm of nation-building and development, as though the Kree and Skrulls had never come at all.
…
Hala, Capital of the Kree Empire.
"What did you say? All our operatives on Earth have lost contact?"
Yon-Rogg's voice was cold, but the flicker of astonishment in his eyes betrayed his composure. He stared at the kneeling soldier before him.
"Are you certain? All of them?"
"Yes, sir. Without exception. Every one of them has gone dark."
A heavy silence descended.
Yon-Rogg's brows furrowed into deep, stormy lines.
The Kree had invested years into planting agents across Earth. Some had infiltrated Earth's structures for over a decade, climbing steadily into crucial departments and influential positions.
And now, in the span of a single breath, all communication with them was severed?
This was no coincidence.
Someone had identified them all, exposed their disguises, and struck them down simultaneously.
And they had done it so cleanly, so mercilessly, that not even a dying signal was transmitted back.
The difficulty of such an operation… even Yon-Rogg, hardened warrior of the Kree, could not help but feel a faint chill.
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