Time passed quickly as Marcus worked on modifying the severed tail. By the time he finished the initial transformation, dawn was breaking on the horizon.
Thanks to everyone's swift response during the attack, the CIA's casualties had been minimized. While there were a few confirmed fatalities among the agents, most had escaped with only injuries.
As Raven and the others were engaged in their morning training exercises, Charles, Erik, and Logan returned by plane, rushing onto the grounds as soon as they landed.
"Is everyone alright?" Charles called out anxiously.
"Sure, do we look like we're in trouble?" Hank replied, approaching with a skeet launcher in his hands.
"Hey, Raven, I'm the real Hank!" Another Hank appeared, glaring at his doppelgänger with exasperation.
The first Hank's features suddenly morphed, revealing Raven's blue form before she shifted to her usual blonde appearance.
"Sorry," she laughed. "Marcus instructed me to practice creating visual confusion during combat."
With that, she transformed into Angel's form and darted toward Darwin.
Charles and Erik exchanged surprised glances. They hadn't even realized they were speaking to Raven initially. More importantly, the young mutants appeared to be in much better condition than when they'd left. Though their activities still had an element of playfulness, each recruit was constantly using their abilities in increasingly sophisticated ways.
Darwin's adaptation had become nearly instantaneous. Alex could now channel controlled energy blasts through his hands. Sean was actually flying—soaring through the air using his sonic powers for lift and propulsion.
The transformation in each recruit was remarkable. Their progress far exceeded what Charles and Erik had thought possible in such a short time.
Logan, meanwhile, seemed entirely unimpressed. He strolled toward Alex, an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth.
"You're Alex, right?" he asked casually.
"Yeah," Alex nodded, looking at Logan curiously. "What's up?"
"My lighter's out of fuel," Logan explained, holding up his cigar. "Mind giving me a light?"
He extended the cigar toward the energy emanating from Alex's hand. The moment it touched the crimson glow, the tip ignited. Logan drew back with a satisfied expression, taking a deep drag.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT
Sudden gunfire shattered the morning calm. Charles and Erik immediately shifted into defensive postures, scanning for threats.
"Welcome back," Marcus called out cheerfully, a submachine gun casually propped against his shoulder.
He looked entirely relaxed, as though opening fire at a CIA facility was perfectly normal behavior. "Didn't expect you to return quite so soon."
Without missing a beat, he unclipped several grenades from his belt and tossed them toward Sean and the others, continuing to fire short bursts from his weapon.
Erik reacted instinctively, extending his hand to seize control of both the grenades and bullets with his magnetic powers, directing them safely skyward.
As the explosions echoed overhead, Charles turned to Marcus with unconcealed anger.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Why are you attacking them?"
Both men glared at Marcus accusingly, unable to comprehend why he would launch an unprovoked assault on the unprepared recruits.
Marcus didn't immediately answer. He simply raised an eyebrow slightly, returning their stare with mild amusement.
Noticing the hostile standoff, Raven and the others halted their exercises and approached.
"Charles, you've got it all wrong," Raven explained, stepping between them. "This is part of Marcus's training regimen. If he actually wanted to harm us, why would he use such a direct approach?"
Her defense was echoed by nods of agreement from the other recruits. They had all witnessed Marcus's capabilities firsthand during the confrontation with Shaw. If he had genuinely intended to eliminate them, he possessed the skills to do so effortlessly. The grenades and gunfire were clearly serving a different purpose.
Seeing the united front from the recruits, Charles and Erik exchanged confused glances before offering Marcus a reluctant apology.
"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," Charles said, "but isn't this training method excessively dangerous? One mistake could result in serious injuries."
Marcus regarded them as though they were being particularly dense, then casually tossed another grenade toward the group of recruits.
As the grenade hit the ground, Darwin rushed forward and threw himself on top of it.
BOOM!
Charles and Erik watched in horror as the explosion engulfed Darwin. When the smoke cleared, however, he rose unharmed, his body having adapted to absorb the blast.
"You didn't seriously think I'd endanger their lives, did you?" Marcus asked with a hint of disappointment.
To further prove his point, he lobbed several more grenades toward the group. This time, the recruits responded as a coordinated unit.
Sean directed precisely modulated sonic waves at one grenade, not to destroy it but to alter its trajectory, sending it arcing harmlessly into the sky.
Angel and Alex attacked simultaneously—she fired corrosive acid that neutralized one grenade's detonator, while he used a controlled energy blast to detonate another at a safe distance.
Even Hank and Raven demonstrated newfound combat skills, drawing sidearms and hitting the remaining grenades with pinpoint accuracy, causing them to explode mid-air.
Their teamwork wasn't flawless, but the level of coordination was impressive and clearly well-practiced.
"Is this really what you've accomplished in just a few days?" Erik asked, unable to hide his astonishment.
The transformation from untrained individuals into a functional combat unit in such a short time seemed almost impossible.
"Of course," Marcus replied matter-of-factly. "Their potential is comparable to yours. Never underestimate what a mutant can achieve with proper training."
Though these two would eventually become leaders of the mutant community, Marcus reflected, they were still young and too easily governed by emotion.
Just moments ago, they had focused entirely on the apparent attack, failing to notice that none of the CIA agents in the vicinity had reacted to the gunfire—something highly unusual for a facility that had recently suffered an actual assault.
Had they been more observant of their surroundings rather than leaping to conclusions, their reaction might have been very different.
Recognizing the truth in Marcus's words, Charles and Erik exchanged chastened looks before offering more sincere apologies. They understood that their behavior had been presumptuous.
Marcus wasn't particularly upset with them. He simply felt they needed to temper their paternalistic tendencies, especially Charles. Though he presented his concerns as care for the recruits' safety, his attitude unconsciously revealed a lack of faith in their capabilities.
This overprotectiveness was Charles's blind spot—he worried too much about others without fully recognizing their potential for growth and self-determination.
Shifting topics, Marcus pulled out a dark red whip and cracked it experimentally.
"A souvenir from yesterday's encounter," he announced. "I've modified it into something more useful. I'm calling it 'Devil's Touch.' Anyone care to test it out?"
After a night of meticulous work, he had completed the initial transformation of Azazel's tail.
The name "Devil's Touch" was fitting on multiple levels—not only was it fashioned from a demonic-looking mutant's appendage, but Marcus had enhanced it significantly.
He'd installed neural sensors and electrical discharge mechanisms into the handle. The whip could now respond to the wielder's movements with almost sentient flexibility, while also delivering a powerful electrical shock upon impact, effectively incapacitating targets.
Still, Marcus wasn't entirely satisfied with the results. The limitations of available technology had forced him to compromise. With more advanced equipment, he could have transformed the tail into a truly living weapon, rather than implementing these modifications incrementally.