Wired for War #23

Standing outside Phineas Mason's radio repair shop, Nathan adjusted his collar, using the glass display as a mirror. His eyes flicked toward the van parked across the street, its tinted windows revealing nothing but suggesting plenty. A wry smile tugged at his lips as he turned and pushed the door open, the bell above jingling softly.

Inside, the familiar hum of old electronics filled the air. Phineas Mason, the Tinkerer himself, sat hunched over a disassembled radio, his fingers deftly maneuvering tiny tools with the precision of a seasoned craftsman. He barely acknowledged Nathan's arrival, offering only a grunt before returning to his work.

Nathan, unbothered, made his way down the narrow aisle. Halfway to the counter, a shimmer caught his eye. Phineas vanished from his spot and reappeared by a shelf stacked with various electronics, as if he'd simply teleported.

"Hologram?" Nathan asked, arching an eyebrow.

Phineas turned, his expression laced with irritation. "Your fault," he snapped. "Ever since your last visit, the spooks have been staking out my shop. Now I can't even scratch my nose without worrying about a sniper across the street."

Nathan chuckled, unphased. "Maybe it's time to shut down this charming little operation," he suggested, gesturing around the cluttered shop. "You've got a standing offer, you know. Head of R&D at Maximus Security. Think about it: no more spies, better coffee, and a lot more money."

Phineas snorted, giving Nathan a withering look. "As if. I've got better things to do than babysit your toys." He waved a dismissive hand. "Now, stop with the nonsense. You're here for what you paid for, right?"

Nathan's grin widened. "Always straight to business with you, huh?"

Phineas shot Nathan an irritated glance. "Spare me your smart mouth and just follow me, kid."

Without waiting for a reply, he reached up and pulled one of the motherboards from the shelf. The entire section slid aside with a faint mechanical hum, revealing a set of stairs descending into a hidden basement.

Nathan followed, his footsteps echoing slightly as they moved down the narrow staircase. The air grew cooler, tinged with the scent of solder and machine oil. As they reached the bottom, a sprawling underground lab unfolded before them, bathed in a cool, bluish light.

Workbenches were cluttered with half-assembled gadgets, glowing monitors, and blueprints tacked to the walls. Mechanical arms hung from the ceiling, some in mid-motion, while others rested, their tasks temporarily paused.

"Welcome to my little slice of heaven," Phineas muttered, walking toward a workbench at the far end of the room. "And by heaven, I mean the only place I can work without idiots breathing down my neck."

Nathan smirked, but kept silent as Phineas began pulling items from various drawers and compartments.

First, he laid out a pair of sleek, black boots with an almost metallic sheen. "Magnetic boots," he explained, tapping the back of the heel. "Thrusters here. Capable of low-altitude flight, high-speed bursts for a few seconds. You won't fly far, but you'll fly fast."

Nathan picked one up, feeling the surprising weightlessness of the design. "Good work, old man."

Next, Phineas placed two pistols on the table, their matte finish gleaming under the lab's lights. "Twin energy pistols," he said, flipping one around to show the adjustable power settings. "Can go from BB gun rounds at machine gun speed to a single shot that'll punch a hole through a tank. Adjustable stopping power, fully automatic or single-shot mode."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Tank-busters. Nice."

Phineas grunted, then pulled out a pair of wrist-mounted devices. "Concealable knives. Spring-loaded. Get in close, press a button, and—" He mimicked a quick stabbing motion. "—out they come. Silent and deadly... you can put the guns there too and everything is almost impossible to detect of course..."

Finally, he reached into a drawer and retrieved a small box, placing it on the table with a sense of finality. Inside was a diamond-like transparent gadget, surrounded by numerous small metallic plates, each the size of a fingernail.

Nathan's brow furrowed as he scrutinized the diamond-shaped gadget in his hand. "Why is there only one?" he asked, his tone edged with disappointment.

Phineas shot him a glare, setting down his tools with a huff. "Because I'm an engineer, not a goddamned neurologist," he snapped. "You should thank my genius—and maybe a bit of divine intervention—that I managed to make one at all." He grabbed one of the metallic plates and held it up, the light catching its reflective surface. "See this? It's not just for show. This little beauty will dig into your spine, linking this 'floater' directly to your brain."

He picked up the diamond-shaped device again, turning it in his hand. "Of course, since you asked for the moon and stars, I had to make more links. So, these plates will have to cover at least ninety percent of your spine. You'll be a walking circuit board, but hey, you'll have your gadget...."

Nathan exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Does it have all the functions I asked for, at least?"

Phineas's glare sharpened. "Who do you think I am?" he growled. "Of course it does." He tossed the gadget in his hand, catching it smoothly.

"Not only will you be able to control it with your mind," he squeezed it, causing the diamond to morph into a perfect sphere, "but you'll also be able to change its shape at will. Make it harder, softer, more elastic—whatever you need."

He threw the sphere into the air with a flourish. "And yes, you can make it go invisible. Just like you wanted."

Nathan nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in approval. "Good. Can you install the gear, or do I have to find a surgeon?"

Phineas leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug grin. "I could install it right now, but don't you want to hear about the extra options in your toy?" He spun the floater between his fingers, letting its polished surface catch the light.

Nathan arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Extra options?" His gaze lingered on the floater as it shimmered in Phineas's hand.

Phineas placed the floater on the workbench and picked up one of the metallic plates. "It's not just about linking your brain to the floater," he explained, tapping the plate. "These little neuro links magnify your brainwaves. Not only do they connect you to the device, but they also give you a minor boost in telekinesis."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

Phineas sighed, rolling his eyes. "Meaning, with enough neuro links, you could develop telekinetically enhanced strength, maybe even some shielding capabilities. Think of it as a side effect of your brain working overtime to control the floater."

He paused, frowning slightly before continuing. "I'm not one to under-deliver on a request, and while your brain might not be able to handle more than one floater, it can handle a bit of telekinetic power. Hence, the extra neuro links."

Nathan chuckled, shaking his head. "Phineas Mason... always the overachiever."

Phineas smirked, gesturing to a chair in the corner. "Have a seat, smartass. Time to install your upgrades."

Nathan lowered himself into the chair, leaning forward to expose his back. Phineas rolled over a tray of gleaming instruments, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "You want anesthetic?" he asked, holding up a syringe.

Nathan waved it off. "I've got work to do today. I need a clear head."

Phineas shrugged. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you."

With a deft touch, Phineas positioned the first metallic plate against Nathan's spine. A soft hum filled the room as he activated a handheld device, the plate sinking into place with a precise, mechanical click.

Nathan's muscles tensed as a sharp pain shot through his back, but he remained silent, gripping the chair's arms.

"You'll feel some pressure," Phineas said, his tone more focused now. He worked quickly, implanting each plate along Nathan's spine with meticulous precision.

Each insertion sent a wave of discomfort through Nathan, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to show any weakness.

As the final plate locked into place, Phineas stepped back, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Done. Give it a minute to sync up."

Nathan sat up slowly, flexing his fingers as a subtle tingling sensation spread through his body. "Feels... different," he murmured.

Phineas grinned. "Different in a good way. You're wired for telekinesis now, kid. Just don't go lifting cars... seriously, don't."

Nathan stood, rolling his shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, old man."

"Anytime," Phineas replied, already turning back to his workbench. "Just don't forget who keeps you running."

Nathan smirked, adjusting his jacket, and gathering his commsioned gadgets as he headed for the door. "I never do."

...

The sky was a muted gray as Nathan approached the secluded cemetery, the soft crunch of gravel under his boots the only sound in the quiet expanse. In his hand, he carried a modest bouquet of lilies, their white petals a stark contrast against the somber surroundings. His destination lay beneath a lone oak tree, where a simple tombstone stood, bearing the inscription:

Lilian Cross

Lily's Resting Place

Nathan knelt before the gravestone, his fingers tracing the letters carved into the stone. It was a memorial, nothing more. There had been nothing left of Lily after the explosion—no remains to bury, no closure to be found. He hadn't put the stone here; he had no idea who had.

One day, he'd found a note tucked away in one of his hideouts, cryptically informing him of this place's existence. It had included no explanation for why they'd given Lily his last name.

Ever since then, Nathan had made it a habit to visit every few weeks. He couldn't quite explain why he came, but standing here brought a fleeting sense of peace, a brief respite from the chaos of his life.

He set the bouquet gently at the base of the tombstone, stepping back to take it in. "If I'd had what I have today, maybe things would've been different," he muttered to himself, his voice a low rasp. The bitter edge in his tone betrayed the weight of regret he carried. The what-ifs were a constant torment.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. Dwelling on the past wouldn't change it. Straightening up, he turned to leave, but froze as he felt something cold and metallic press against the back of his skull.

Nathan sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly though he remained perfectly still. His voice, calm and measured, cut through the tension. "I was wondering when the person who left that note would come knocking."

The pressure against his head didn't lessen, but the voice that replied was undeniably feminine, laced with a faint edge of amusement. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Nathan chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor. "Ever since I found out about this place, I've made it a point to visit regularly. And I made sure no one knew about it." He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "The only person who could have known I'd be here is the one who built this memorial." His tone shifted, turning sharper, colder. "That's you, isn't it?"

The woman didn't answer immediately, her silence stretching just long enough to feel like a test. When she spoke again, her voice retained that trace of amusement, though it was tinged with curiosity. "So, you knew someone was manipulating you, and you still came?"

Nathan shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't know why the memorial was built." He tilted his head ever so slightly, as if weighing his next words. "Maybe someone did care about Lily. Maybe someone just wanted to keep an eye on me, leave a line open if they ever needed to reach me or to get to me."

His smile faded, the warmth draining from his expression. His next words were delivered with a cold precision. "If it was the former, I'd like to meet that person. Maybe even thank them." His eyes hardened, his voice a low growl. "But if it's the latter, if someone is trying to use Lily even after her death... I'd like to meet them too, if only to tear them apart with my bare hands."

The woman's voice was calm, yet carried a sharp edge. "Well, I'm not your friend, but I'm not your enemy either, so you can relax."

Nathan felt the cold metal of the gun leave his head. Still, he kept his arms raised in a show of caution. "Can I turn around?" he asked, his tone measured.

"Suit yourself." The woman's response was nonchalant.

Slowly, Nathan turned, his eyes widening just a fraction at the sight before him. Standing there with an air of confidence was a woman with blue skin, piercing yellow eyes, and flowing red hair. He blinked, recognition sparking instantly. "Raven Darkholme... Mystique. Now this is unexpected."

Mystique raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "What's unexpected is you identifying me with a single glance."

Nathan gave a small shrug, his gaze flicking briefly to the gun still aimed in his direction before returning to her face. "I suppose we all have our secrets." His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of tension. "So, what can I do for you?"

Mystique's expression didn't waver, her eyes steady as she spoke. "You've been seen exiting the X-Mansion. What relations do you have with them, and what are your intentions in approaching them?"

Nathan's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but he quickly masked it, his demeanor shifting back to his usual composed self. "I'm hunting someone," he explained, his voice even. "Someone who might be hunting Wolverine." He trailed off, his gaze narrowing slightly as he added, "That stint at Nessiros Island... it wasn't your doing, was it?"

....

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