Scarlett Witch and Quicksilver. Clad in long cloaks and hoods. Laughable disguises in the context of their regal— almost elven, high cheek bones and magically glowing mutant eyes. The Queen of Wakanda looked right at home beside them. Maybe Bronte wasn't too far behind in terms of his own appearance lately.
"Avengers…." He muttered the only thing he knew about them. A name that excited some members of the populace and horrified others in the name of ungodly levels of property damage.
"Not anymore." Pietro quickly replied. How fitting.
"Not for a long time." Wanda added in a softer tone as she approached him with a hand out.
Brontë took it. Red nails, freakishly dark veins running up her dainty fingers and down her wrists—
"A side effect of letting my magic oversaturate my body. Something tells me you know about such an infection…." Wanda let her other arm run over his forearm— where dense hair had grown after he ate the Wendigo— making him look more like Wolverine and less like his father.
"Yea…. Something like that. My bad for staring, though. That was OD…."
Wanda smiled only with her black lips, "As you study me, I do the same."
Bronte tried not to shiver at her touch…. Or look into her Ruby red eyes. They made his peripherals watery. Like reality was wet paint dripping from a page in the rain.
"Magneto's sake! Sister, can you relax on the chaos eyes before you fry a possible ally?" Quicksilver groaned.
"He can handle it." Wanda and Ororo said at the same time.
Brontë looked at them with an eyebrow raised, "Aye…. Chaos what?"
"You have my word, Bronte, you are fine. She is gazing at you through a magical lense is all." The Queen explained.
"Witch to Warlock, hm?" Wanda added as she let go of his hand.
"I can't do that…." Bronte mumbled.
Wanda nodded, "You are different. Your dual natures are very…. Synergized."
"Mutant and Magic." Bronte knew that much early on thanks to Beast.
He couldn't help but notice Pietro and Wanda cringe a bit.
"That's something we all have in common here." Ororo said from behind Wanda.
"I had no idea." Bronte replied.
"And we'd appreciate it if you kept it that way for most other people." Pietro pressed.
Brontë nodded, "Got it…"
Quicksilvers stern and socially aggressive nature was beginning to remind him of Daken. Or at least old Daken. His brother had visibly been shaken up recently…..
"You must be curious as to why we're here." Wanda commented in the silence as a stray breeze ruffled her wavy brown hair within her hood.
Brontë nodded.
"Well, have no worries, it doesn't concern you…at least not yet— not unless you make it as such. Even so, we come as allies. Just not in the context of your war. I will never fight another war—"
"Sister." Pietro cut her off.
Wanda blinked deliberately twice and swallowed. Brontë realized he had goosebumps.
"We are here in regards to that island you found in the midst of the Cold War Talocan wages against you."
"Won't be cold much longer." Bronte thought anxiously. "So what brings y'all out here with me..? Shouldn't you be in the briefing room with the Elders and Tribe Leaders?"
Wanda turned to look at Ororo.
"The Elders don't want to hear of these particular dealings." Ororo stated.
"Right…." They still didn't explain why he had to stay.
"Well, at least you're sharper than…. Other, clawed members of X." Quicksilver sighed and began to stretch like he was warming up before a run.
Wanda smiled— this time with more than just her lips, "You see, my brother Pietro is staunchly competitive. He takes pride in his speed and happily attributes all of it to his X-Gene. Recently someone on our team saw a photo of you…. An important someone you may know. He goes by Northstar."
Bronte's brain lit up in response to the name followed by flashes of his battle in Canda against Alpha Flight and the two Wendigo.
His nerves were set ablaze.
Wanda brought up her hands, "No love lost. It's you who played a key role in Alpha Flights disbandment after realizing the corruption taking place within that section of the government. Now he's with us."
"…..and what did he tell you about me?"
"Speed. He said you have a surprising amount of it." Pietro cut in.
"….Word"
"I'd like to see it first hand."
"What, you wanna race?"
Pietro nodded as if it were a very serious endeavor.
Brontë looked to Ororo. She nodded.
"Alright let's get it going." Bronte shrugged.
***
Brontë and Pietro stood behind a line drawn into the sands while Wanda and Ororo stood on each side of them.
"Once the lightning strikes, your off." Ororo announced.
"Got it." Bronte stretched out his legs in a low split before rising and stretching out his arms. The thick muscles in his back strained the fabrics of his black tank top. He wasn't built like a runner. Standing so close to Pietro made him look even larger in contrast. Maybe the race would speak to that. He didn't plan on caring too much about the race. Win or loss it didn't matter to him— but with all the training he'd done, slacking off felt akin to dying. Plus, Ororo seemed to want him in the race. Maybe it would help their business dealings? Maybe he should let Pietro—
A bolt of lightning smashed into the earth half a mile ahead. Another smashed into Bronte at the same time. He soaked up the energizing elemental magic and entered his Storm-State.
And then they were off.
Pietro was fast. Brontë had seen him— or his blur, on news recordings during Mutant warfare coverage time. He was a ghost. Speed was an understatement.
Yet there he was, running right beside him. The world failing to keep up with them as it meshed into a spinning collage of desert browns and distant greens against a blue white sky.
Pietro didn't look impressed.
"Don't trip…" he yelled as the ground began to crack and reform ahead of them into a spiraling ramp of sand and dirt roots. Sparking red magic guided its shaping like hands of pure energy.
Pietro suddenly upped the pace in a blast of wind and sound like a jet.
Brontë pushed his legs and arms to move faster. Back and forth back and for—
His ears popped as the air around him blasted outward in a vaporous cone and he caught up with Pietro, flipping and rolling through the shifting sand spires.
"Still not impressed…"
***
"How's the Mutant separatist start up these days?" Ororo questioned as they watched their two high speed relatives.
"We go by X-Kind now. Mutant is a name given to us by people who see abomination before blood…. Before savior."
"Fair enough."
Wanda twisted her veiny fingers soaked in chaotic magics, causing the sandstone constructs to shift and twist more. "Your presence would be paramount to our— your, fellow people, you know?"
"My life is here, Wanda. I worked too hard….. I changed Wakanda at its very core so my son could one day live in technological utopia. I cleansed these lands of bigotry….. small mindedness, fear, for him. And, with all due respect, I was an X-Man. I can't trust your father."
"Magneto was never truly a supervillain. He had his faults…. But all he cared for was his kind. In his increasingly old age, he's grown tamer, more paranoid but…. Tamer. WE guide Magnetos Sword. Not him. It's a collective effort. Something you can't count on here with your….."Wanda continued shaping the lands effortlessly as Bronte and Pietro increased their speed.
"Mole." Ororo finished.
"How do you know there's a traitor?"
"I don't. It's a suspicion. Things go missing. Documents copied too many times. Eyes on the back of my neck. I can't do anything about it yet or I'll spring a trap to which I don't know the killing power of."
Wanda clicked her teeth, "You're in an ugly spot, sister"
"You have to fight for what you believe in."
"Some fights cost too much. If you were smarter…. You'd let me shape your reality to something better. To something where this war won't take place."
"Not a fan of delaying the inevitable." Ororo commented, "Why do you think I dumped James twice?"
"You two were a cute couple…." Wanda smiled, sadly.
"So, is my deal on the table?" Ororo asked as the sound barrier shattered again. They now ran circles around a sand stone course of colliedescoping shapes and structures.
"We will take your unlawful X-Kind of Wakanda and house them on the island…. If offered. And in turn, you will be protected for three hundred years." Wanda nodded, "My Father likes this deal."
"…..Good."
The two fell into a silence as they watched the racers. So fast now it was breathtaking.
"It's rare to see an Omega so comfortable in his power." Wanda commented. "Especially so young."
"He's had plenty of time to learn. Still…. I can't even do that."
Wanda nodded, "I assume that's the difference between Wind Riding Witches and Warlocks."
Ororo looked at her, noticing how her cloak and hood melted away like black sand, leaving her deep red suit and crown of veins beneath. She was both horrifying and beautiful.
"Bronte is far more physical and resilient. The magic comes to him intuitively. Like a biological urge. But you, you can use spells like me. We both learned under Agatha. I don't know if Bronte can. Brontë is a Warrior….. You are a Queen. There's subtle difference there that translates past the books and into reality. Like a science."
"Science…" Ororo muttered.
"I feel magic is a science. I don't care what Agatha says. Centuries ago cars would've been magic too. It's a simple idea thought of a thousand times….. but look." Wanda referred to them in their super speed. "Could that be something as simple as gods and flashy colors? Magic is a permanent Neo-Science. Something between explainable phenomena and unexplained occurrence. A spectrum. Much like Gamma Radiation as Bruce always said…."
Ororo felt the air tense. Reflectively she put a hand on Wanda's shoulder, "I'm so sorry about what happened with him….."
Wanda shrugged, "It's fine. Now they're all up in space with him. I hope they're alone and afraid."
Ororo nodded. Sure she was once an Avenger— sure she missed some of them. But she also knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.
Wanda wiped her single tear, "Your son is faster than Northstar said... or about to be. They're closing in on Mach ten."
A small tornado was beginning to build around their complex race track
The two leaned in in disbelief.
Seven….
Another blast.
Eight…..
Ni—
One of them tripped and crashed into the sand, rolling for a mile before stopping at the end of a trail of blood and skin.
They rushed over to find Bronte laying calmly as he looked up at the sky.
"You lost. But not as bad as I thought you would…." Wanda commented.
"Yea…. I been in the gym." Bronte shook off his dreads as he stood up.
Pietro skidded to a halt in front of him. He regarded him strangely before holding out a hand to him.
They shook up. Less formally than before as if some border was crossed or ice was broken.
Wanda and Ororo did the same.
Sometimes business had to be carried out in the weirdest of ways.
And sometimes Bronte learned details he shouldn't at the weirdest times.
"There's a traitor in Wakanda….."