Chapter 12
The room went quiet as Cyclops stepped forward, arms crossed, jaw tight. His visor gleamed in the low light of Xavier's study. When he spoke, his voice carried the clipped edge of a soldier giving a debrief — the kind of tone that brooked no interruption.
"Cerebro picked up something big," he said. "A mutant signature off the charts. Island in the Pacific. Krakoa."
He didn't need to tell them twice. The memory was still fresh in his mind. His voice dropped, almost like he was dragging the weight of it back into the present.
"We assembled the team — Jean, Angel, Iceman, Havok, Polaris. Loaded up the jet — the Blackbird." He glanced at Wolverine as if to make sure the name landed. "We flew out, touched down on Krakoa. That's when it all went sideways."
The flashback snapped into his head like a blade unsheathing. He saw the humid jungle air, thick and suffocating, the sound of waves crashing against black rock. The Blackbird's hatch dropped, and they fanned out.
Then — chaos.
He remembered the earth shaking under their feet. Trees twisting unnaturally. Roots snapping up like whips. A blinding light. And then… nothing.
Cyclops's jaw clenched. His voice tightened.
"I woke up in the Blackbird. Alone. Jet was already in the air, flying back home. No memory of getting inside. No memory of touching the controls. I tried overriding, smashing the panel, forcing a landing." He shook his head. "Nothing. Autopilot had a mind of its own. Brought me straight back to Westchester."
His fists curled at his sides, the faint hum of restrained power radiating off him.
"When I stumbled out, I realized… something had changed. My eyes. My optic blasts… gone." His tone cracked for half a breath, and then hardened again. "For a moment, I thought—maybe it was over. Maybe I could finally… just be normal."
The others stayed silent, the weight of the words hanging. Logan's eyes narrowed, reading the man like a poker hand. He smelled the truth in his voice — the faint trace of hope quickly buried under bitterness.
Cyclops exhaled sharply, visor glinting under the lights.
"But it came back. Stronger. Unstable. Nearly burned the place down." His voice flattened. "Xavier rigged up an old prototype visor for me. Told me to keep training. Control it, or it'll kill someone."
The memory closed, the flashback snapping off like a flame dying in the wind. Cyclops straightened, the steel back in his spine.
"That's what we're walking into. Krakoa took them. My team. My family. And now it's our job to bring them home."
Cyclops adjusted his visor, the red glow faintly bleeding around the edges, and squared his shoulders.
"Alright. Enough waiting around. Let's go to the Blackbird," he said, voice crisp, commander's tone sharpening like a blade.
The team stirred, boots scraping as they began to move—except for Sunfire, who stayed rooted in place, arms crossed tight over his chest like the world itself wasn't worth his fire.
"I don't want to participate," he said flatly, his accent carrying an edge, his pride sharp enough to cut glass.
Cyclops turned his head just slightly, visor glinting. "Whatever. Stay or go. The mission doesn't wait for anyone." And without missing a beat, he started walking, the rest of the team trailing after him.
The Blackbird waited, sleek and black as a predator bird with folded wings. One empty seat sat there like a ghost. Engines roared, and soon enough, they were slicing through the sky—minus one fiery stowaway.
But not for long.
A streak of heat shimmered against the clouds, and suddenly Sunfire was there, keeping pace, his aura blazing as if daring the jet to ignore him. Cyclops gave a nod, wordless, and the hatch hissed open.
Nightcrawler leaned forward from his seat, grinning, yellow eyes catching the glow.
"Vhat vas it, mein freund? Cold feet? Or hot ones, I should say."
Sunfire scowled as he slipped inside, the fire around him dimming. "Don't test me, demon. I go where I please."
Kurt chuckled, tail flicking like a cat amused with its own joke. "Ja, and apparently, dat place is here."
A ripple of low laughter went through the cabin, even from Colossus, who rarely wasted breath on teasing. Sunfire sat down with a huff, arms crossed again, but he stayed seated.
Logan smirked from the back, cigar stub tucked in the corner of his mouth. "Looks like we're all one big happy family already."
The Blackbird roared onward, full crew aboard at last.