The Web Tightens

Sitting at his desk, Scott resisted the urge to grimace as his sore body protested at even the slightest movement. Training with Wolverine was becoming more intense, though there had been no explicit decision to escalate it. Neither of them had needed to say a word.

On paper, it seemed like Wolverine was pushing him to his limits because of the looming threats—Winston Frost, the Marauders—but in reality, both men were simply driving each other harder, just as they did with the rest of the X-Men.

In that respect, it wasn't entirely false.

None of the X-Men knew about Winston, nor about the wider dangers that were gathering in the shadows. But they had noticed something was off, in the way Charles and Amelia acted, there was a tension there. Scott knew it was only a matter of time before they found out. He had learned from Cyclops' memories that the harder one tried to bury the truth, the more likely it was to be uncovered.

Eventually, he would tell them.

But for now he would wait.

Yet, he knew the escalating intensity of his spars with Wolverine wasn't just because of the external threats.

No.

As much as it irked him, Scott knew the real reason.

It was because of her.

Jean Grey.

Even now, years apart, she remained a point of conflict between him and Wolverine. A trend that had apparently continued from Cyclops' life into his own.

Scott felt his ire rise at the thought.

He was still undecided on what to do about Cyclops' feelings for Jean and what that meant for him. There was no denying that she was attractive. That was precisely why he kept her at a distance. He refused to repeat Cyclops' mistakes. But he also had no idea how to avoid making them either.

That was what truly terrified him—not knowing the right path forward.

So for now, until he had more information, Scott forced the matter out of his mind.

He turned his focus to what truly needed his attention.

Oscorp and Norman Osborn.

The Marauders and Nathaniel Essex.

Winston Frost and the Hellfire Club.

Those were the threats on his radar, the ones he had already interacted with directly. He knew they were only the tip of the iceberg, but with the limited resources he had available, they were all he could focus on for now.

Oscorp and Norman were currently being contained—barely—by Spider-Man. But it was not sustainable. With the Morlocks now aiding the webbed vigilante, it was proving to be an effective roadblock for the time being.

But eventually?

Eventually, it wouldn't be enough.

Norman would slip through the cracks, and when he did, he would unleash hell on the world. Scott needed to find a way to extend that period of containment. Peter's supposed mentorship under Otto Octavius could be useful in that regard, but it wasn't a guarantee.

The Morlocks would need a greater incentive to expand their efforts. 'Or perhaps… a third faction,' Scott mused. Cyclops' memories vaguely recalled something—a dream, an idea—of a group of villains coming together under one name.

The Sinister Six.

'No doubt Norman has already anticipated something like this—a potential uprising of past foes seeking revenge against him and the Green Goblin.' Scott tapped his fingers against the desk. 'The question is… has he planned for it? And if so, is it better to force this outcome sooner rather than later? No! If delayed, Norman might orchestrate it himself to further elevate the Green Goblin's reputation.'

It had to happen on Scott's terms.

With that plan set in his mind, Scott moved on to the next immediate threat.

The Marauders.

Their arrival at this point in time was unexpected. But then again, so were many things in this world. However, that made them the most dangerous threat right now—because unlike the others, Scott had no way to contain them.

Even in the prime of the X-Men's power in Cyclops' world, Nathaniel Essex had always been a dangerous unknown. The fact that Sinister was moving so early in the X-Men's rebirth was troubling to say the least.

It was why Scott had been pushing the others so hard.

He had always intended to prepare them for the future, but not to this extent—he hadn't wanted to break their spirits by constantly driving them into the ground. Thankfully, they all had strong wills and continued to push on regardless.

Even so, Scott wasn't convinced that they would stack up against the current Marauder roster. Their heavy hitters—Blockbuster and Rhino—were immensely dangerous, the kind of powerhouses that could go toe-to-toe with some of the strongest beings in the world.

For them to be on the loose and hunting the X-Men this early?

Scott did not like their odds.

That was why Bobby and Jean needed to improve fast. They were the only ones capable of fighting Blockbuster and Rhino head-on. Thankfully, with Wolverine here, Scott had someone who could contain Sabretooth long enough for him, Warren, and Hank to handle Prism and Tombstone. In fact, considering Hank and Warren's recent progress, it was smarter to let them handle Prism and Tombstone while he worked with Jean and Bobby to take down Blockbuster and Rhino.

'Perhaps I don't need to be as concerned as I originally thought.' Scott shook his head. 'No. If I start thinking like that, I'll end up underestimating something. Sinister is an unexpected variable. The enhancements to Rhino and Tombstone prove that. Who knows what else he's already set in motion? Right now, we might have a fighting chance—but nothing is guaranteed.'

That, ultimately, was the biggest problem with the Marauders.

They were unknowns.

Scott had no idea where they were based.

No idea when they would strike next.

So far, they had only targeted him. That was why he had been able to outmaneuver them. But that would not be the case for the rest of the X-Men. Currently, he had no answer for Sinister or the Marauders.

All he could do was stay on guard.

Which left the most immediate threat.

Winston Frost and the Hellfire Club.

Winston himself was not a direct danger to Scott and with the seeds of rebellion planted in Emma, Scott was confident that she would eventually make a move against her father. She had done so in Cyclops' world and he had every faith she would do so here.

He had given her the push—now it was up to her.

Even if she didn't, Scott had other ways of dealing with Winston.

No.

His real concern was the Hellfire Club.

Sebastian Shaw.

Edward Buckman.

Donald Pierce.

They were the true dangers and while Scott didn't have enough information to contain them yet—but if things played out as planned, he could eventually turn the Hellfire Club against itself. He just needed to wait for the right moment.

His thoughts shattered as the classroom door opened.

The room fell silent and Scott felt it instantly—the way the air changed. The rhythmic click of heels against the floor made his muscles tighten.mSlowly, he looked up from his notebook and felt his body go rigid.

She was beautiful.

That was what made her dangerous.

Every movement was slow, graceful—almost as if she was gliding.

Black pencil skirt. White blouse. Black suit jacket. Simple—but calculated.

She turned.

Red hair swayed and eyes scanned the room.

"Hello, everyone," she greeted, her voice deceptively smooth and clear despite being foreign. "My name is Natalie Russell. I'll be your substitute teacher for today."

Scott didn't believe the polite smile for a second.

This was no civilian.

This was no soldier.

This was a threat.

Another one.

One that he recognised immediately.

Natasha Romanoff.

The Black Widow.

'I suppose S.H.I.E.L.D. should be added to the list now as well.'

-X-

Her mission was simple.

Observe and report.

It was a job she had done countless times, to the point where it had become a monotonous routine.

The basics were straightforward.

Mutants were a rising issue—individuals with unknown motives, developing superhuman abilities that could potentially destabilize the world. All it would take was one such individual, someone with vast ambitions and immense power, to emerge and suddenly, the world would be plunged into pure anarchy.

That was why the stance on Mutants was so harsh.

No one knew when that day would come, so all Mutants were treated with heavy skepticism and scrutiny. Some Mutants used their powers for good. Others turned to petty crime. But very few had made a huge impact on the world.

At least, until recently.

That was precisely why she had been dispatched to Bayville.

The Incident at Oscorp

The attack on Oscorp had shaken the world.

A single Mutant had attacked—one man against an entire organization. The public hadn't been given the full details, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had uncovered the truth. Two of Oscorp's anti-Mutant weapons had been defeated. That alone was a statement and a bold one.

Oscorp had covered it up, of course.

But S.H.I.E.L.D. knew the truth.

The same Mutant, now labeled by the public as Atomic Red, had been linked to several other incidents.

A conflict on a train to Dunfee.

Another battle in the same small town.

Finally, a prison break that had freed a young Mutant only days later.

In less than two weeks, a single Mutant had caused enough disruption to capture the attention of the world—including Nick Fury.

Which was why she was here.

Her mission; find out who Atomic Red was, what his goals were, and whether he was a threat.

So far, his identity remained a mystery.

But there were breadcrumbs—clues she could follow.

Three, in particular.

Warren Worthington III.

Hank McCoy.

Robert Drake.

Warren was the easiest to confirm.

As she had suspected, he was the Avenging Angel. Since he had transferred to Bayville High, the sightings of the winged vigilante in New York had ceased completely. The news speculated that he had disappeared—some even whispered that he had died.

But Natalia knew the truth.

She had video evidence of a similarly winged individual taking part in the prison break that freed Robert Drake.

Another young Mutant, one who had been imprisoned for his own safety after an angry mob had been ready to kill him. That same prison break had involved two other Mutants, the Avenging Angel and Atomic Red

Finally the former football star from Dunfee.

He had not been involved in the prison break at Fort Washington. But a few days prior to his transfer to Dunfee, an individual suspected to be Atomic Red had been caught on camera in Dunfee. Citizens of the small town having reported sights of flashes of red at the old abandoned fortress.

Far too many coincidences.

The trail was obvious—it all led directly to Bayville. Which was precisely why she was here. She had become a substitute teacher at Bayville High, not just to observe the three confirmed Mutants—but to discover the fourth.

She had no concrete proof yet.

But her instincts were rarely wrong.

As her sharp gaze swept over the classroom, she immediately picked up on an anomaly.

One of the students was different.

He was good.

Very good.

For only a split second, his instincts slipped—a sharp, analytical glance flickered toward her, studying her closely. Then, just as quickly, he relaxed—turning away, masking himself as ordinary.

But Natalia had seen it.

The way his body tensed—preparing for an attack, assessing the threat—before forcing himself to ease up. To anyone else, the shift would have gone unnoticed. In fact, Natalia was certain that even most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents wouldn't have caught it.

But she was not most agents.

She had been in this field for too long, had trained her entire life to spot even the smallest tells.

That was a tell.

A student had been on edge.

A student had recognized her for what she was.

She continued her roll call, keeping her voice steady, her demeanor calm before she finally reached the name she had been waiting for. "Scott Summers."

A hand raised and a quiet, almost unassuming voice followed. "Here."

Natalia didn't react. Didn't pause, didn't blink, didn't show a single flicker of recognition. She simply moved on, calling the next name without a moment's hesitation.

But internally?

She already knew.

She had a name.

She had her main suspect.

Scott Summers was Atomic Red.

He was the target of her mission and judging by the way his gaze was locked onto her, analyzing her—not with lust. Nor with nervousness or with curiosity. But with awareness.

Natalia knew.

She wasn't the only one observing today.

Because Scott Summers was observing her, too.

-X-

"I fear I may have made a mistake," Charles murmured, his voice tinged with concern. Logan grunted in response, raising the can to his lips before taking a slow sip. "I thought Scott and I were aligned in many ways," Charles continued. "Of course, I knew there were differences. It was impossible not to notice the contrasts in our visions for the future. But now, I fear I underestimated just how different those visions truly are."

Logan exhaled through his nose, setting the can down on the table beside him. "He's a wild card," Logan said bluntly. "I warned you."

Charles nodded. "You did. And I should have listened."

The X-Men were forming, improving rapidly under the leadership and tutelage of both Scott and Logan—just as Charles had hoped. They were being trained for the future ahead, slowly but surely. Yet, Charles felt completely out of control.

Scott was everything he had expected—and more.

A capable leader.

A firm decision-maker.

Strong-willed and determined.

Yet Charles could not rein him in.

Scott took reckless risks, and dangerous actions, ones that could jeopardize everything. The X-Men may have been formed by Charles, but it was becoming clear they were Scott's team. While they might share a dream of coexistence, the differences in how they intended to achieve it could change everything.

"Is there a way to guide him?" Charles wondered aloud.

Logan let out a rough chuckle, shaking his head. "Guide him? The kid?" Logan snorted. "Good luck with that." Logan had seen people like Scott before and they always put him on edge. "The kid ain't gonna be swayed," Logan continued. "He'll listen to what people have to say, sure. But at the end of the day, he's set on doing things his way. If your idea is better, he'll use it. But he'll rarely believe that someone else's way works better than his own." Logan sighed. "And unfortunately for you, bub, you've got yourself a highly strategic leader. One who's damn good at what he does."

As much as he hated to admit it, Logan couldn't deny it.

Their sparring sessions were proof of that.

Logan was more skilled—he knew that.

But the fights?

They were never easy.

Scott was constantly improving.

If Logan ever let his guard down for a second, ever eased up on the pressure…he would lose. Not only that, but with him holding back less and less in their fights, that reality was becoming more and more apparent.

Scott was restraining himself, especially when it came to his powers.

Logan had no doubt—if Scott ever let loose completely, Logan wouldn't want to be on the receiving end. At this rate it was only a matter of time before they got to that point. But Scott wasn't just holding himself back in battle.

There was something else.

Jean Grey.

The kid felt something for her.

That much was clear.

A mixture of emotions ranging from attraction to resentment. Logan himself didn't fully understand his own instincts when it came to Jean, let alone Scott's feelings. Nor did he like the way she affected him. She reminded him of Rose O'Hara and that was the only explanation Logan had for why he was acting the way he was.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

Which was precisely why Logan had been indulging in more beer and spending more time away from the mansion. Because despite her resemblance to Rose…Jean was not her.

"I worry about what his actions may lead to," Charles continued, pulling Logan out of his thoughts. "He insulted Winston Frost—publicly. And Frost possesses dangerous connections and dangerous ambitions." Charles frowned. "Though Winston's mental shields were strong—no doubt a result of keeping his mind closed off to his own daughter, Emma—I was still able to glimpse enough." Charles sighed heavily. "And what I saw concerns me. Winston will retaliate, and when he does… it will put all of us at risk."

Logan exhaled slowly. "A hit?" He asked.

Charles nodded grimly.

Logan grunted. "I'll keep an eye out."

He didn't want to.

But Logan wasn't about to let these kids get taken out before they even had a chance to live.

That wasn't him.

As much as he had begrudged training them at first he wasn't going to let it all go to waste.

Besides it gave him something to focus on.

Something to distract himself from the memories of Rose.

"Thank you," Charles said.

Logan grunted in acknowledgment and got to his feet, making his way toward the garage. His bike was waiting and he felt like having a ride around town to clear his head. Throwing on his jacket, he swung a leg over the seat, waiting for the garage door to open.

A scent hit him as soon as he did and Logan's grip tightened on the handlebars.

His knuckles went white.

His teeth clenched.

That scent.

That damn scent.

"Victor."

-X-

Smirking, Victor Creed leaned lazily against a tree at the edge of the Xavier estate.

James would know he was here.

That was exactly what he wanted.

Victor wanted Logan to know.

Wanted him to come looking.

He also just wanted to mess with Logan's head—that was always too easy.

Chuckling lowly, he turned away and disappeared into the trees, scaling the estate wall with ease. "Guess it's time to have a little fun while I wait for Sinister to make his move." Flexing his claws, Victor's grin widened, his heartbeat quickening in excitement. "But if he doesn't hurry…" His sharp teeth flashed in the sunlight. "I'll just have to have some fun of my own. I wonder how much the boy has improved?"