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What Henry didn't say out loud was the obvious: if one or two people had actually died, Jean's guilt would have skyrocketed. That guilt would have dragged her back sooner or later, problem solved.
Which meant, technically, he shouldn't have stepped in to save the sharp-tongued blue-skinned woman currently glaring at him from the med bay bed. In the movie version of this mess, Mystique was already dead by now, wasn't she?
Mystique's eyes narrowed. "Then why didn't you take the hit? Why shove the rest of us out there as cannon fodder?"
Henry smirked, all teeth and no shame. "See, you're missing the point. The girl needs to feel guilty. Without that, a mountain of bodies wouldn't matter. And me?" He gestured at himself. "I'm a stranger. No emotional leverage. You? You're family. Big difference."
That was enough to make Scott Summers snap. The X-Men's field leader surged forward, grabbed Henry by the collar, and barked, "What do you really know?"
"Easy. Close your eyes."
Before Scott could blink—literally—Henry's hand shot up, yanking the ruby-quartz visor clean off his face.
Scott cursed, clamping both hands over his eyes before his optic blasts could level the entire med bay. "You bastard! Again?!"
He wanted nothing more than to let loose and blast this smug alien through the wall, but without the visor he couldn't risk it. Too many teammates. Too much collateral.
Henry twirled the visor in his hand like a toy. "Still works. Reliable as ever." He lobbed it toward Ororo before she could summon a lightning bolt. She caught it on instinct, forced to break off her attack to shove it back onto Scott's face.
Scott slid the visor back in place, chest heaving. He didn't fire—not yet. But every line of his rigid posture screamed fury.
Henry dusted his hands off and said lightly, "Here's what I actually know: not the full story. Just what I've seen. That girl you lost control of? Right now she looks less like a cosmic threat and more like a terrified teenager.
"You don't call in the neighbors to beat your kid into behaving. You talk to her. That's why I didn't fight—because a fight only escalates. Makes the whole thing blow past the point of no return." Not because I'm scared of the Phoenix Force. Definitely not that.
He let that sink in before continuing. "And here's something else. I've only met her a handful of times, but this time… she looked different. Not just mood swings. When her emotions spiked, I could see light crawling under her skin, like fire in her veins. And it hurt. She was wincing in pain even when she wasn't lashing out.
"So the best thing for her? Quiet. Space. Time to adapt. But…" He spread his hands. "That's the one thing you can't give her. Not after she flipped police cars in broad daylight. The government won't let you sit on your hands."
The X-Men knew he wasn't exaggerating. Mutants weren't free agents. The government tolerated them because there were leashes in place—special task forces trained to counter mutant powers, prisons built for "uncontainable anomalies." Even Omega-levels like Magneto and Xavier could be neutralized with the right strategy.
For anything above that—anything truly apocalyptic—the White House preferred to send in the X-Men. Which was why Xavier kept a direct hotline to the Oval Office in his study.
Henry's enhanced hearing had already picked up the fallout. The White House had cut the line. Xavier was in his office right now, raging in silence—no wise, calm professor, just an old man screaming at a wall.
Raven broke the tension, her voice still weak but serious. "What do you think happened to Jean?"
Henry raised his hands helplessly. "No idea. I haven't been keeping tabs on her. Best guess? Something recent. She looks like someone who bit off more than she can chew and hasn't had time to digest it. Body's rebelling, emotions boiling over, and life keeps throwing her more chaos."
Scott, seizing on the opening, burst out: "The Endeavor mission! It has to be the solar flare—when she shielded us, she absorbed it! That's what's tearing her apart. If we can find a way to release it, we fix everything!"
Henry resisted the urge to laugh. Calling the Phoenix Force a solar flare was… adorably naïve. But he didn't bother correcting him. Why waste energy crushing hope when he had no evidence, no solution?
So instead he said smoothly, "Perfect. Sounds like you've already got a theory. Which means the only thing left to worry about…" He leaned back against the wall, smug grin returning. "…is the U.S. government."
Beast blinked, caught off guard. "The government?"
"Come on, Hank. Two police cruisers wrecked, officers injured, property damage all over the neighborhood. If she weren't an X-Man, she'd already be in cuffs." Henry pointed a thumb at his own chest. "And just so we're clear—the trench outside town? That wasn't me. That was her. So if they come sniffing around, you cover my ass. If anyone asks, I was never even in the country. Switzerland, baby. Neutral and snowy."
He thought briefly of the fences, walls, and pavement he'd definitely destroyed on impact, then shrugged. Minor details. Nothing that couldn't be blamed on somebody else.
Henry clapped his hands together. "Anyway. That's my piece. Any other questions? No? Great. Then I'm out. And next time you've got mutant family drama, don't drag me into it."
He turned, already halfway to the door.
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