Date: Sunday, July 18, 2010.

  Location: Alkali Lake Industrial plex, British bia, ada

  Tyson didn’t need much sleep, but after the procedure, the stant firing of his paiors had mentally exhausted him. His slumber was deep, allowing him a brief escape from the intense agony he had endured, and the prison he inhabited.

  Awakening in the cold fines of his cell, memories of the procedure crept ba. The needles pierced his skin, through muscle and bohe sensations of molteal seeping not just around his skeleton, but through it, being oh it. He flexed his fingers, feeling the newfou. With aion of will, he extended his new adamantium cws. They slid out smoothly, catg the dim light and refleg it. They were beautiful in a deadly way, each cw resembling a perfectly curved metal talon.

  Approag the cold bars of his cell, he sshed forward, expeg to carve through easily. Instead, there was a loud, grating screeetal against metal, and sparks flew. Tyson pulled back, examining the bars and his cws. her bore a single scratch.

  He exhaled deeply, the weight of his situation weighing as heavily as his new metal bones. "Great," he mused aloud, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "What's the point of having cws made of the stro metal if they 't cut anything?"

  Tyson's sarcastient hung in the air, but not for long. The room's stillness was disrupted by the harmonious, almost ethereal voices of the three blohey held an eerie uohat seemed to echo, each slightly offset but in perfect sync. They sounded like a ghostly choir, the kind that could sing both lulbies and funeral dirges.

  "Did you think that would work?" Their icy eyes locked onto his.

  Tyson, sensing where this was headed, quickly interjected before they could tinue, "I get it. You're right, no need for all of you to rub it in." The third sister looked visibly irritated. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips formed a thin line. A smirk tugged at the er of his lips as Tyson taunted, "You might as well tell me your names, or I'm just going to call you all the 'Beckys."

  There was a brief moment of silence as the three exged ghen the one who hadn’t spoken, still looking slightly miffed, replied, "Esme."

  The first followed with, "Sophie."

  And the sed, with a slight smirk mirr Tyson's, finished, "Phoebe."

  Tyson, leaning against the back wall of his cell asked, "Is there something you want? Besides staring at me and talking like a weird-ass cult?"

  Sophie, taking the lead as usual, said, "We were sent to ensure you didn’t escape, somehow." The way she pronounced 'somehow' was dripping with doubt, as if the idea itself was ludicrous.

  Tyson tilted his head and shot back, "If I did mao get out of this cage, how would you three stop me?"

  Without a word, the sisters moved in tandem, showg their powers. Their flesh started to shimmer, catg the overhead lights and refrag them like prisms. Within moments, all three had transformed intlistening diamonds. The room was filled with a dance of reflected and refracted light, turning the drab cell into a chamber of iridesce.

  But just as quickly as it started, it ehe synization broke, and each reverted to her human form out of sync. Esme was the first to ge, then Phoebe, and finally Sophie. With a smirk, Phoebe said, "That's how. Diamond doesn't break easily."

  Sophie added, "sider it a gentle reminder. Your cws might be the stro metal, but even they would find it tough against diamond."

  Esme just winked.

  Tyson, with a hint ance, said, "Actually, I'm more dangerous than you think." He let out his cws, gleaming with a fresh shihe polished silver of the adamantium captured the attention of the room as he began to examihem, more for effect than out of y.

  Esme and Phoebe exged gnces but stayed silent, allowing him to tinue.

  "I’m friends with Logan. You probably don’t reize the name, but he’s a previous subject of this facility. He has adamantium cws as well. They’re long, but aren't nearly as sharp as miyson held up his phasis, letting the room absorb the dahey represented. "And while diamond is exceptionally hard, it's also brittle. And with my strength," he flexed his arm slightly, "I could apply enough force to chip or even break it. But adamantium breaks the rules. Its almost magi how durable it is, and how easily it cuts"

  Sophie, ever the skeptiarrowed her eyes. "Are y to threaten us?"

  Tyson shrugged, "Not a threat. Just a little lesson." After a brief pause, Tyson finished, "Well, if you're just on guard duty, I'm going to try and find some peace." He moved to the ter of the cell and sat down cross-legged. "Might as well make use of the time," he mumbled, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to meditate.

  Tysoled back, searg through his subscious, seeking that elusive door.

  Tyson tried to rex his mind. The pain and trauma from the procedure had thrown his mental pass off, and his subscious door seemed distant and out of reach. He took deep breaths, trying to ighe girls' st, picturing the door, and trying to will it closer. Time became a backdrop feeling both still and fluid.

  Suddenly, a clear, slightly sarcastic voice pierced his tration. "You're not doing it right."

  Tyson's eyes snapped open to find a blonde, leaning casually against the bars of his cell. It may have been her proximity, but he noticed, unlike her sisters, she had a delicate sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her posture was rexed, yet there was a certaiiculousness about her, from the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to the precision of her manicured nails.

  Tyson studied her for a moment. "I didn’t meet you earlier, did I?"

  Esme, standing a little behind her, answered, "Shift ge. You were too engrossed in your little mind voyage to notice. Meet Irma."

  Irma gave a slight nod, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Pleasure. And just for the record, if you ever want to get ihat head of yours properly, you might need a few pointers." She tapped her temple knowingly, a pyful challenge evident in her gaze.

  Tyso Irma's gaze evenly. He had an urge to charge the bars and grab her, but that would be pointless. He doubted she had the key, and even if he could get to her in time, with the bars in the way, he wouldn’t have the leverage o break her diamond form.

  Instead, he suppressed his instincts and put on the most pleasant face he could muster. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Irma," he began with a tohat was half-caution, half-respect. "Though, a little advice. You might not want to stand too close to those bars. The prisoners be rather violent. That being said, I could use any pointers you have."

  Irma snorted, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and irritation. "I'm well aware of the dangers, thanks. After all, you did sm me into a wall." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was a hint of begrudging respect too. She crossed her arms and leaned her weight onto one hip, looking at him quizzically. "So, why should I help you?"

  Tyson cursed under his breath, realizing who she was. He suppressed his aggressiveness as best he could, "I'm sorry about that," he replied, genuine remorse tingeing his voice. "I was ered, outnumbered. I just...reacted. It was nothing personal, just survival instincts… But think about it. If I'm lost in my head, I won't be out here, plotting an escape."

  Esme, tilting her head thoughtfully, added, "He has a point. He isn't psychic like us. What harm could it do?"

  Phoebe, who had been silent up till now, nodded in agreement. "It might even keep him busy," she mused.

  Irma sighed, exging a look with Esme and Phoebe. "Fine. We'll help. But only this once," she remarked. The atmosphere in the room felt thick with tension, but also anticipation.

  "Close your eyes," Phoebe instructed softly. Tysoated for just a moment before obliging. He could feel the weight of their collective gazes on him, and their sts wafted to his nose each subtly vanil but distinctly fvored.

  Irma began, her voice surprisingly gentle, "Picture yourself in a calm pce. A pce where you feel entirely at ease, safe, and grounded."

  Tyson pictured the basketball court at the Xavier Institute. He’d had fun on the court; a pce where he could safely cut loose with his physical prowess. Even though it was bative, he had his first enter with Illyana there as well. Esme tinued, "Feel the grouh your feet, the warmth of the sun on your face, or the gentle breeze brushing against your skin."

  Tyson tried to block out the fines of his cell, the metallic st of the bars, and the memory of the painful procedure. With each word from the blondes, he felt himself sinking deeper into rexation, his mind transp him to a serene forest clearing he'd once visited.

  "Now, in the distance, see the door," Irma whispered. "That door that's so uo you, the door that evades you."

  Tyson visualized it. On the wall of the Institute nearby, a sturdy oak door with intricate carvings maed. The handle gleamed the silver of adamantium in the dappled sunlight.

  "Walk towards it," Phoebe urged. "With every step, feel more ected to your inner self."

  The weight of the blondes' words, which seemed to e from all around a also from within, unctuated only by the singur focus of the drowing yson, reached out. The moment his fingers met the door's handle, a surge of purpose flooded through him.

  Esme's voice came as a gentle whisper, like a soft breeze brushing his ear, "Now, step inside."

  Tyson turhe ha didn’t budge. He pulled harder, using every ounce of strength in his frame, but it was no use. The door was locked tight.

  Suddenly, there was a shimmer in the air o him. Out of the shimmering light, Irma's mental form began to take shape. Instead of her normal appearance, her form was both diamond-like and spectral. She looked like a shimmering ghost made of intricately cut diamonds. Her skin refracted light in a million dires, ayson could also see right through her, like a crystalline specter. The usual blue of her eyes had turned a deep, hypnotic shade, resembling precious sapphires.

  Irma gracefully approached the stubborn door and pced a hand on it. The glow in her eyes intensified as she exami, hinting at a e with something unseen. She spoke, her voice eg in Tyson's head, "Esme, Sophie, lend me your strength."

  As if summowo other equally radiant and diamond-like ethereal figures, began to form o Irma. The three figures momentarily merged into oheir birength evident in the even brighter glow they emitted. When they separated again, Irma held a shimmering key in her hand.

  With a serene smile, Irma hahe key to Tyson, the three, spoke as ohis is the key to the deepest parts of your mind. Use it wisely."

  Accepting the key, he felt its ess, its weight. He then slid it into a newly revealed keyhole, felt it turn smoothly, and opehe door to ehe very core of his subscious. With o deep breath, Tyson turhe handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the white of his subscious.

  The three blondes watched as Tyson stepped through the door. Suddenly, their e to his innermost thoughts was severed, and they were left staring at the bnk barrier.

  Irma crossed her arms, frustration was evident on her face. "I didn't think he'd be able to go so deep we couldn’t follow."

  Phoebe frowned, her fingers absentmindedly twisting a strand of her hair. "We should get Sophie or Celeste. With another, we’d be able to go with him."

  Esme shook her head, "If we bring them in, it's going to raise questions. Stryker will want to know why."

  Irma shot back, "But we 't just let him go in there! Who knows what he’ll uncover, he was meditating with a purpose. What if he discovers something?"

  Phoebe added, "Or worse, what if he finds a way to unicate with others from within?"

  Esme sighed, trying to ease the tension. "Look, we've seen the expanse of his mind. There are no other es, psionics. It's just his mind. What harm he truly do inside his own head?"

  Irma seemed to pte this. "You're right. Still, we should keep a close eye on his physical state, just in case."

  Phoebe nodded in agreement. "Fine. But at the first sign of anything unusual, we get Sophie or Celeste." All three women exged firm nods, settling into a silent pabsp;

  ~~ Rogue Rept ~~

  Bobby unlocked the door ahe way. Jean, Jubilee, John, and Illyana followed. Ihe cozy suburban house, pictures of Bobby's family were strewn across the walls, showg cheerful memories. The worn-out couches showed that this home was lived in, and had witnessed tless cherished moments.

  Bobby, taking the lead, smiled reassuringly. "Guys, make yourselves at home. There should be soda, juice, and some leftovers in the fridge. I'll be right back with some clothes."

  Jubilee, her eyes sing the room with youthful excitement, said, "Dibs o slice of pizza if there's any!"

  Illyana smirked, "You might have to fight me for it."

  John instead of heading to the fridge, walked over to the wall and examihe decorations. He focused ily on one of Bobby’s family photos. Jean walked over to the ndline phone. She began to dial, hoping against hope for an answer oher end. Meanwhile, Jubilee and Illyana raced to the refrigerator, their banter filling the room. John shook his head, staring longingly at the idyllic family befrabbing a of soda.

  The ph a few times before there was a click. Jean's eyes lit up as she reized Professor Ororo's voice, "Hello?"

  "Ororo! It's Jean. We're safe, at Bobby's family home," Jean whispered, relief evident in her voice.

  Oher side of the room, Jubilee triumphantly held a slice of cold pizza while Illyana pouted pyfully. John, chug, as he sipped.

  Amidst the chit-chat and the chewing of food, Jean's eyes widened momentarily as a wave of unease washed over her. "Uh oh," she murmured under her breath, her telepathises pig up on iniions.

  The kit entrance door swung open, revealing a middle-aged man and woman, both looking taken aback at the group in their home.

  The older man's face immediately darkened, his protective instincts kig in. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" he demaaking a step forward, his posture defensive.

  Behind them, a youeen stepped in, his expression morphing from surprise tnition as he spotted the strangers seated in his kit. Bobby walked in, hands full of folded clothes. He paused at the sight of his family, a mixture of relief and nervousness evident in his eyes. The teen blinked, reition fshing across his face. "Bobby?"

  Bobby took a deep breath, shooting a pleading look at his friends before fag his family. "Hey," he began, voice tentative. "Hi mom, dad. We... we o talk."

  The living room was filled with tension. Plush couches and fy chairs were occupied, and the room was thick with anticipation. John leaned nontly against the firepce, idly flipping a lighter, while Illyana stood in the opening that led to the kit.

  Taking a deep breath, Bobby met his parents' worried gazes. "Mom, Dad," he began slowly, "The school I've been attending... it's not just a school for the academically gifted. It's for those who have... well, special abilities."

  Jubilee, always o some levity to teuations, chirped, "Surprise!" She made a pyful gesture, sending off a small, shimmering burst of sparkles from her hand, which illumihe room briefly.

  The ers of Bobby's mom's lips turned down, her eyes wide with . "So, when did you first realize you were a...” she hesitated, struggling to find the right words.

  John pleted her sentence, "A mutant?" His lighter clicked again.

  Bobby's mom shot a disapproving look at John. " you stop with that?" she asked, nodding at the lighter. She took a deep breath, her gaze softening as she looked at Bobby. "We still love you, Bobby. We always will. It's just... the whole mutant problem. It's... plicated."

  Illyana, the sharp edges of her Russian at making her words even more cutting, asked. "What 'mutant problem'?" her voice dripped with challehe room seemed to get colder as everyoheir breath, waiting for the response.

  Jubilee, sensing the thick tension, piped up with her characteristic brightness. "You should see what Bobby do," she excimed, her eyes twinkling. "His power is holy amazing!"

  All eyes turo Bobby, who reached out for his mom's teacup, which sat on the coffee table. The steam from the hot tea curled up into the air. With a touch of his fihe oeaming cup froze instantaneously. His mom, eyes widened in amazement, turned over the cup and a block of frozeumbled out. Their family cat wao the ice block. It began to lick the frozen tea, seeming to enjoy the ued treat.

  "I do a lot more than that," Bobby added, trying t some pride into his tone, even if the atmosphere in the room was a mix of amazement, apprehension, and disbelief.

  Bobby's younger brother, looking equal parts angry and overwhelmed, pushed himself up from the coud stormed out of the room. A door smmed in the distance, evidence of the teen’s displeasure.

  Bobby’s mother hung her head aedly said, “This is all my fault.”

  John ented, “Actually, we discovered that the males are the carriers of the mutant gene.” He poi Bobby’s dad, “So it’s his fault.”

  Within Bobby’s brother’s room, the teen turned oelevision to see breaking news.

  In the wake of the assassination attempt on President Ma, just weeks before his State of the Union Address, there are unfirmed reports of a raid on an underground mutant anization based ichester, New York. Authorities refuse to ent, but the surrounding area has been evacuated, and a manhunt for several fugitives from the facility is underway.

  Ronny's eyes were fixed oV s, where images of the school Bobby attended were fshing. It was unmistakably Xavier's School fifted Youngsters. He picked up the phone and began dialing the number dispyed.

  As Bobby and Jubilee tried to smooth things over with Bobby's visibly shaken parents, Jean suddenly interrupted. "We o leave," she stated firmly.

  Bobby's blue eyes were wide in fusion. "What? Why?"

  Jean responded with urgen her voice, "Your brother is calling the police."

  A mix of disbelief and panic crossed Bobby's mother's face. "Ronny!" she shouted, her voice ced with a bination of fear and anger. She hurriedly made her stairs to front her younger son.

  Bobby, frustration evident, murmured under his breath, "e on, Ronny." He shook his head in disbelief that his brother called the cops on them. Bobby turo face his father, his eyes searg for uanding. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "If... If I don't get a ce to... Just tell them I love them, okay?"

  His father’s face was etched with worry as he nodded and pulled Bobby into a tight embrace. "I will," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "You just be safe out there."

  The mutants moved quickly, realizing their stay had been cut tragically short. Exiting the suburban home, they moved away from the house at a pace that hopefully wouldn’t draw attention. Putting distaween themselves and Bobby's home where the authorities were likely heading.

  "We're in luck," Jean sighed, brushing a strand of her fiery red hair behind her ear. "I got in touch with Professor Ororo when we first got to Bobby's."

  Jubilee grinned, her youthful energy unabated despite the evening's drama. "Let's get their attention then!" With that, she stretched out her hands a up a brilliant fre. It was a dispy of shimmering fireworks, fit for a holiday, that was bright enough to light up the afternoon sky.

  The familiar silhouette of the Bckbird came into view. It nded in a local park just a few blocks away. As the team he jet, the Bckbird's ramp lowered, revealing Logan, wearing his usual leather jacket and scowl, Ororo, looking as regal as ever, and... a blue-skinned mutant they didn’t reize.

  "Look who decided to join the party," Logan grumbled, though there was a hint of relief in his eyes.

  Ororo stepped forward, her silver hair flowing like a cascade of moonlight. "I'm gd you're all safe. We came as soon as Jean tacted us."

  Jean nodded in gratitude. "Thanks, Ororo. It means a lot."

  Bobby, still ing to grips with the whirlwind of emotions from the frontation at his home, looked at the unfamiliar blue mutant. "Who's this?"

  The blue mutant, with a pyful smirk and an at, replied, "Name's Kurt. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  Jubilee gri Kurt. "Cool look. Wele to the team, blue guy."

  As they all settled in, the Bckbird's engines roared to life, ready to carry them back to safety and away from the dahey'd narrowly escaped.

  But Jubilee’s fireworks and a sleek jet nding in a local park didn’t go unnoticed by the authorities…

  Behind the Ses

  - In X-Men, Bobby Drake’s house was in Boston. The kids and Logan took one of Cyclops’s cars in the Movie. But if that was the case, why not rendezvous with Storm straight away? She was already in Boston searg fhtcrawler? So I moved the Drake’s home closer to the institute. I had Brewster in my mind. It’s about 35 miles north of Scarsdale but on the same rail line.