CHAPTER 107-THE CROWN FALLS
The chamber was quiet but for the hum of machines and the faint whir of Nanny's wheels. Weeks. That's how long it had been. Weeks of being washed, fed, tended like children. Weeks of humiliation. Weeks of helplessness.
Storm sat shackled in the steel chair, breath slow, eyes closed. Her every nerve screamed false signals - when she tried to flex a finger, her jaw clenched instead; when she tried to blink, her foot twitched. Magneto's prison had turned her own body into a liar.
But she had learned patience long ago. Patience... and cunning.
'Calm yourself, Ororo. The bars of the world are many, but all bars can be broken.
She tilted her head, slowly, testing. Once. Twice. Again. She had been practicing in secret, when Nanny was gone. Fighting her nervous system's betrayal inch by inch. Tonight she moved enough a twitch, a bend, a deliberate roll of her neck and the metal crown at her temple slipped, rattled, and dropped to the platform with a hollow clink.
Logan's eyes narrowed across the chamber. "What're you playin' at, Ro?" he muttered.
Storm answered with only a faint nod, sweat glistening down her cheek. Her heart hammered as she leaned forward, lips reaching, teeth scraping the crown. Inside it was her secret - a hollow compartment, her old Cairo tricks, holding slivers of metal no one else would notice. Lockpicks.
The taste of grease and steel filled her mouth as she clamped one between her teeth. A slow exhale. Then she bent forward, guiding the pick to the restraint's lock at her wrist.
Every slip sent sparks of frustration through her. Every scrape felt like a drumbeat in her ears.
'Breathe. Focus. The tumblers are only tumblers. You opened harder locks when you were ten years old. If you fail, your family dies here. You will not fail.
Cyclops' voice came low from his chair. "You can do this, Storm. One click is all we need."
The lock resisted, snarling metal against her efforts. Her jaw ached from gripping the tool. Her eyes watered. For one furious moment she thought it was hopeless-
Click.
The sound was thunder.
Her hand fell free. Her fingers trembled as sensation returned, false signals scrambling, but she willed them into steadiness. The second restraint came easier. Then the third. Within minutes, she stood tall for the first time in weeks, shoulders rolling, back straight.
She turned to the team, fire burning in her eyes.
"Now," she said softly, "we are no one's captives."
The others stiffened, hope igniting in their chests. Logan gave a sharp grin. "Knew ya had it in ya, darlin'. Now get me loose before I go nuts in this chair."
Storm knelt beside him, picks flashing between her fingers, the old thief's dance returning. One by one the shackles began to yield.
And somewhere far above, in the cold dark of space, an alert chimed on Asteroid M.
Magneto's eyes narrowed as the console flashed red. He rose from his throne, cape whispering in the silence.
"...Impossible."
But still, he turned his ship toward Earth.
The storm had begun.