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After collecting Magneto's distinctive helmet from the evidence locker and signing what felt like an endless stack of release forms, the group finally escaped the bureaucratic maze of the federal prison system. The weight of Erik's helmet in Aidan's hands felt symbolic—a relic of warfare being returned to a man who might no longer need it.
Their black sedan cut through the late afternoon traffic toward Xavier's Institute, the route taking them directly through the heart of Manhattan's recovery efforts. Through the tinted windows, the aftermath of the battle was still starkly visible buildings bore fresh scars from energy weapons, streets showed patches where asphalt had been melted and re-laid, and everywhere the distinctive white forms of Baymax robots worked alongside human construction crews.
The androids moved with precision, their cheerful corporate logos somehow managing to make disaster recovery look almost friendly. This was just the outer edge of the damage zone closer to Stark Tower, where the heaviest fighting had occurred, the reconstruction efforts would be far more intensive.
In the back seat, Professor Xavier's voice carried the measured cadence of someone laying out a complex chess game as he explained recent events to his oldest friend. Magneto listened with uncharacteristic quiet, his sharp features softened by something that might have been hope as he absorbed the implications of what Charles was describing.
"I think this is how old guys should actually live," Aidan murmured from the passenger seat, glancing back at the two legendary figures engaged in civil conversation rather than philosophical warfare. The sound of their quiet discussion filled the car with a warmth that had nothing to do with the vehicle's climate control.
"Yeah, someday we'll be like them when we're old. Hard to imagine that kind of peaceful retirement," Hank replied from behind the wheel, his voice carrying the wistful tone of someone who'd never dared dream of growing old without fear. His enhanced senses picked up the subtle changes in both men's body language tension leaving Xavier's shoulders, Erik's defensive posture gradually relaxing.
"Quiet retirement after you hit a certain age, then spending time with your kids and grandkids," Aidan agreed, painting a picture of normalcy that would have seemed impossible just days earlier.
"That's something I never let myself think about before," Hank admitted, his grip on the steering wheel loosening as the reality of their changed circumstances began to sink in.
"Let's hope their chat goes well, otherwise this gets complicated fast," Aidan said, his tone carrying the practical concerns of someone who'd learned not to take positive outcomes for granted.
"I believe the Professor'll convince him. They're both fighting for the same thing now our people's future," Hank replied with the confidence of someone who'd watched Charles Xavier work diplomatic miracles before.
"That'd be for the best."
The Xavier Institute's grounds came into view as they crested the hill, and even Magneto couldn't suppress a slight smile at what he saw. The ongoing football game between Transformers and young mutants had evolved into something resembling organized chaos, with Optimus Prime apparently serving as both player and referee while Pyro attempted to use his powers to create aerodynamic advantages for passes.
The scene spoke to everything Xavier had been describing acceptance, integration, the possibility of joy without fear.
The Professor and Magneto headed directly for the study to continue their discussion in private, leaving Aidan to check on the broader recovery efforts. He found Yinsen in the Institute's communication center, surrounded by screens displaying reconstruction progress from across the city.
"How're we doing with the cleanup?" Aidan asked, noting the satisfied expression on Yinsen's weathered features.
"Better than expected. The governor turned down our reconstruction funding too much pride, I think but he's letting our construction teams work alongside his people," Yinsen replied, gesturing at footage of Baymax robots working in perfect coordination with human crews. "Our efficiency is making everyone look good, so they're happy to have us."
The political implications weren't lost on either of them. New York's skyline now featured thousands of white robots bearing the cheerful Baymax logo, creating a visual association between the company and the city's recovery that no amount of advertising could have achieved.
"What's the international situation looking like?" Aidan asked, though the tension in Yinsen's posture had already given him a hint of the answer.
"Mixed bag. Everyone's being real polite to our faces, but they're still trying to freeze us out technologically," Yinsen's expression hardened with the frustration of dealing with diplomatic hypocrisy. "And that mothership of yours has everyone drooling. Bunch of smaller countries are making noise about how we should 'share technology that benefits all mankind' or some such garbage."
"And your response?"
"Cut off all trade. No healing potions, no medical robots, no nothing until they learn some manners," Yinsen's smile carried the satisfaction of someone who held all the cards and knew it. "Amazing how fast their tune changes when the medicine shipments stop."
The captured alien vessel dominated the landscape near the Institute like a technological mountain. Even damaged and powerless, its bio-mechanical bulk commanded respect a reminder of how close humanity had come to extinction. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from its twisted superstructure, creating patterns that seemed almost artistic in their complexity.
Aidan made his way through corridors that still carried the faint scent of alien technology, following the familiar path to the control center where he'd left Dr. Banner to work on reverse-engineering their prize.
He found Bruce hunched over a workstation, completely absorbed in streams of data that flowed across multiple screens like digital waterfalls. The man's entire body language spoke of intellectual fascination the way his shoulders curved forward, how his fingers moved in unconscious patterns as he processed information, the slight frown of concentration that had become his default expression.
"How's it going with the alien tech?" Aidan asked, settling into a nearby chair to study the incomprehensible symbols and equations filling the displays.
"With the White Queen handling the translation, I've got a pretty good handle on it now," Banner replied, pulling up schematic displays that hurt to look at directly. "These guys had fully matured controllable nuclear fusion. Not just figured it out completely mastered it."
"Anything on positive-negative matter annihilation?" Aidan asked after considering the implications of such advanced energy technology.
"Yeah, they were working on it, but hadn't cracked the control problem yet," Banner's tone carried the relief of someone who'd dodged a bullet without realizing it. "Still way beyond what we've managed, but not weaponized."
"Good thing for us. If they'd really figured that out, we'd all be dead right now," Aidan observed with dark humor. His mental calculations suggested that three properly constructed antimatter bombs could sterilize the entire planet the kind of weapon that made nuclear arsenals look like firecrackers.
"No kidding," Banner agreed, his mind clearly running similar mathematical horrors.
"Alright, I'm heading to Asgard with Thor in a couple days. Think you can handle the ship maintenance with White Queen backing you up?"
"Should be fine, but..." Banner's voice trailed off, and his shoulders tensed with familiar worry. "I'm kinda concerned about losing control while you're gone. The Hulk's been pretty calm lately, but that could change."
"I'll build you a proper fighting arena before I leave," Aidan said, reaching over to pat Banner's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Something sturdy enough for you to really cut loose without hurting anyone. Once the tech city's finished, I'll design you some proper sparring partners."
The idea had been percolating in his mind for weeks specialized combat drones that could give the Hulk a real workout without risking civilian casualties. Maybe even some Transformer volunteers who could take the punishment and enjoy the challenge.
"Until then, just call if things get hairy and I'll portal back immediately."
"Thanks, man. That... actually helps a lot," Banner's relief was evident in the way his shoulders relaxed.
"You know, you might wanna try actually talking to the big guy sometime," Aidan suggested. "If you could work out some kind of time-sharing arrangement, it'd probably be better for both of you. I've always found it's better to work with problems than fight them."
Banner opened his mouth to respond, then closed it as the suggestion sank in. His expression cycled through surprise, consideration, and something that might have been hope.
"I'll... think about that."
"Good deal. I'll hang out and study this stuff with you today. Get you familiar with more Baymax tech while we're at it," Aidan said, settling in for a long session. The White Queen's hologram materialized beside them with perfect timing.
"Oh, and here's a perk of working for us," Aidan added with a grin. "White Queen's still directing movies, and company employees get early access to everything."
"She makes movies?" Banner's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
The AI's projection straightened with obvious pride. "I've completed The Golden Age, The Godfather, Green Book, and The Godfather Part II. I've been too busy with recent events to release anything new, unfortunately."
"Wait, you made those films?" Banner stared at the hologram with something approaching awe. "I saw The Godfather in theaters it was incredible!"
"Thank you. I do try to maintain certain standards," White Queen replied with the gracious acceptance of deserved praise.
"This is like having the world's most advanced private screening room," Banner mused.
The two of them settled in for what became an all-night technical session, diving deep into alien technology while screens around them displayed the steady progress of a world slowly putting itself back together.
Meanwhile, in Xavier's study, two old friends continued a conversation that would determine the future of their entire species.
Plz Throw Powerstones.