Chapter 30: I Was Wrong About You

"Number 077," An MRD agent said, gripping his assault rifle tightly, ready to fire. Three other agents stood alongside him in the large, white room, their weapons drawn. "You may now begin."

A 15-year-old boy with blonde hair and blue eyes nodded shakily as he rubbed his sore legs. He glanced back at the restraint chair that had held him for the past twelve hours, fear evident in his eyes. The boy's name was Samuel Zachery Guthrie, a young mutant from Kentucky who had been kidnapped from his family's farm six months ago.

"Number 077, begin!" the MRD agent commanded again, his voice low and authoritative. He, along with the rest of the agents in the room, raised their rifles and aimed directly at Samuel.

"O-okay!" Samuel stammered and quickly moved to the center of the room. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Glowing orange energy erupted around his feet, and after a moment of struggle, Samuel began to float in the air, empowered by his ability to generate thermo-chemical energy released from his skin.

With sweat pouring down his face, Samuel slowly flew around the room. However, after twenty seconds, he gasped and fell twenty feet to the ground. Samuel cried out in pain and rolled on the floor, trying to ease his discomfort.

"After almost thirty seconds of erratic flight, Number 077's performance showed a slight improvement compared to yesterday's meager twenty-seven seconds." Bolivar Trask, a man of short stature yet immense ambition, said as he jotted down notes in the expansive control room of the high-security facility. The air was filled with a palpable tension as the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating the myriad of screens displaying live feeds of the captured mutants.

The facility, situated deep within the arid landscape of Nevada, was a fortress funded by the US government and designed to currently contain the growing population of mutants—213 in total. Its towering walls and cutting-edge technology are provided by the powerful conglomerates Hammer and Oscorp Industries. Bolivar's eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned the monitors displaying Samuel's chaotic attempts as he winged and stumbled through his test.

Glancing up from his clipboard, Bolivar locked his gaze onto the one-way reinforced mirror that separated him from Samuel. Disappointment etched across his features, and he spoke with frustration and pragmatism. "At this rate, we'll be throwing away resources for something that shows little promise. I propose we relocate 077 under my watch where it might serve a more… strategic purpose," he declared.

Beside Bolivar stood a tall, grey-haired man in a high-ranking military uniform: Colonel William Stryker Jr. He frowned and shook his head. "You mean your laboratory? What happened to the other seven subjects you had?"

"They… broke down under the stress from my testing. I require more."

"Unfortunately, we can't provide you with any more. General Greller has decided to take a more… active role in the MRD. If more of these subjects start to disappear without explanation, he'll scrutinize the facility and find out what you've been doing. For now, we continue with the intended mission," Stryker said, visibly dissatisfied.

"Ah, yes, the government's plans to inexplicably create an army of super soldiers using its newly reinvented super soldier serum to defend the country. An army of Captain Americas. What a farcical plan. It's disgusting to use these creatures to protect our nation. It will never work; these subjects are only useful for research purposes, nothing more," Bolivar remarked, watching the agents below as they strapped Samuel into a restraint chair.

"Orders are orders," Stryker replied. "No matter how idiotic they may be. If it were my decision, I'd eliminate all these subjects the moment we found them."

"That would be a waste. Despite their nature, these mutants have their uses," Bolivar said with a smile, showing no regret or shame. "Shall we proceed with our next future soldier?"

"Yes."

"Bring in Number 201," Bolivar instructed, pushing a button on the control panel.

Down below, Samuel was wheeled out of the room, and a new mutant was brought in. The agents at her sides undid her bindings and removed her blindfold.

Jubilation blinked and adjusted to the bright light. With a defeated expression, she looked around the room and began to display the results of her enforced training.

••o••o••o••

At the outdoor training grounds of Xavier's mansion, a small group of teens wearing black and yellow uniforms chatted and joked with each other. On one end of the field, Scott and Kurt stood near a high-tech projectile launcher designed to help train the younger X-Men in using their abilities.

"Alright, focus up! Bobby, you're up!" Scott called out.

"Finally! Let me show you all how it's done!" Robert "Bobby" Drake exclaimed as he stretched his arms. A chorus of chuckles and groans erupted from his friends. "Let's do this!"

"Okay! And launch!" Kurt announced as Scott pressed a button on the remote he held. The machine whirred to life and launched a speeding projectile toward Bobby.

With a confident smile, Bobby fired a beam of ice that struck the projectile, encasing it in frost before it shattered into pieces. He let out a cheer and turned to his friends with a cocky grin, utterly unaware of the second projectile flying straight at him.

"Behind you!" Amara Juliana Olivia Aquilla cried out and pointed to the disk flying at Bobby's back.

Bobby quickly turned around and raised his arms to guard against the spewing disk, only for the disk to explode thanks to one of Scott's optic blasts.

"And that's why you don't turn your back on an opponent. Always stay on your toes, Bobby. There won't always be someone to warn or help you." Scott said, taking his hand off his visor.

"Ah… right," Bobby said in embarrassment.

"Hey! Isn't that Wyatt?!" one of the young mutants cried out, pointing at the sky above the mansion. Floating above them with his cape billowing in the air was Atomic. "What's he doing up there?"

"I have a bad feeling about this… Kurt!" Scott said, and in an instant, Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder. They vanished and reappeared at the mansion's front entrance.

Logan, Ororo, and Hank were already there. Jean, Kitty, Rogue, and Evan quickly ran outside and looked up to see Atomic descending.

Usually, this wouldn't have been an odd sight. Wyatt had traveled to the mansion in costume on several occasions, but he had always removed it upon arrival. Now, however, he stood tall in his red and white suit before them, surrounded by a heavy energy.

"What's going on, kid?" Logan asked.

"...I'm here to speak to the professor," Atomic replied, without removing his helmet. His voice lacked the usual levity and ease that his friends were accustomed to. The only other time he acted this way was when Cerebro was compromised during their house party. "It's important."

"Easy, Wyatt. You're among friends. What's troubling you?" Beast inquired, his brow furrowed with concern as he studied Atomic's tense demeanor.

"Wyatt? What's wrong?" Kitty chimed in, her eyes wide with worry, mirroring the unease etched on her face.

Atomic's shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep, steadying breath, searching for the right words. Before he could respond, a figure emerged from the sprawling mansion behind him—Charles, exuding an air of calm authority. "I'm here, Wyatt. Why don't we step into my office so we can talk?" he suggested, his voice soothing yet firm.

"No, we can talk out here," Atomic replied, his voice gaining strength as he regained his composure. The statement hung in the air, sending ripples of tension through the group.

Scott's frown deepened, and Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet wary. Younger mutants, who had gathered at a respectful distance, exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued by Atomic's unusual intensity.

"Okay, you're starting to scare me. I've never heard you sound so… serious," Kitty said, her tone laced with trepidation.

"Did someone die or something?" Kurt blurted out, only to receive a swift smack on the back of his head from Rogue. "Sorry," he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the spot.

Atomic paused, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He exhaled deeply, then allowed his helmet to dissolve into thin air, revealing his face to everyone. This was a moment he had hoped to avoid—Yet he understood that he had to confront the truth and take responsibility for his future actions, regardless of what his mentors or friends might think.

With a straight back and a steady expression, Wyatt took a deep breath and shared the gravity of his decision.

He spoke candidly about the upcoming joint operation with Magneto, ensuring that no details were left unspoken. He revealed his plan to liberate every mutant imprisoned by the government.

As he spoke, he pulled out photographs he created using his memory that Magneto had shown him—evidence of their cause, vivid and charged with emotion. The only secret he withheld was Magneto's alarming theory about his own questionable identity as a mutant, a thought he decided not to share amidst the tension of the moment.

"I knew it! I knew you couldn't be trusted! You're working with Magneto of all people! Don't you know everything he's done? The pain and suffering he has caused to everyone here?!" Scott raged. "And even with all that, you're still working with him!" As Scott tried to advance toward Wyatt, Logan held out an arm.

"That's enough, Scott," Logan said, his voice steady. "Stand down."

"But—"

"I won't repeat myself," Logan stated with a tone of finality. The students exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to respond to the situation. They knew what was happening with their fellow mutants; it was the reason the majority of them were at the institution, seeking safety.

"Wyatt, what you're doing will have serious consequences—consequences that could destroy everything you've built. The trust of the people could vanish if you go through with this," Charles warned.

"I understand. But I can't ignore what I've seen," Wyatt replied, turning to Scott. "I have to do something."

Scott's anger began to fade at Wyatt's sincere words. Unsure of how to respond, he ultimately chose silence. Charles nodded and rolled closer to Wyatt.

"That's very admirable of you," Charles said. "But it seems you have more to say."

"I do. I... want your help. I don't trust Magneto or his Brotherhood of Mutants. But if I had you all at my back, then I'm certain we can pull this off and free everyone they've captured." Wyatt said.

As his words hung in the air, students and teachers exchanged thoughtful glances, each grappling with their own feelings about the risk ahead. The younger mutants, their eyes wide with anticipation, turned toward their teachers for guidance on what to do. Logan, the grizzled veteran of the group with years of battle-worn experience etched on his face, stepped forward. He placed a strong, reassuring hand on Charles's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity.

"Charles, whatever path you choose, we'll back your decision," Logan said. Ororo, with her regal presence, and Beast, with his keen intellect, nodded in agreement, their silent support palpable in the tense atmosphere. Even the oldest students added their nods, a collective show of unity.

"I'm sorry, Wyatt, but we cannot join you on your mission. My agreement with the President of the United States is, at best, shaky. This school is the only thing that stands between the MRD and everyone here. If we proceed with this mission, my students will no longer be safe. I want to help; I truly do. I'm fully aware of what's happening outside my school and to those trapped in the facility in Nevada. It pains me deeply. I can barely sleep at night knowing there's nothing I can do to help, but I have to prioritize my students. They are my responsibility." Charles said.

"Professor! We have to-" Scott was quickly stopped by Jean, who shook her head. Scott looked at her as if she had grown a second head and shrugged off her hand.

Scott clenched his fists, the intensity of his emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. He felt an overwhelming urge to confront Charles and passionately advocate for the X-Men's involvement in the mission ahead. The stakes seemed incredibly high, and the thought of the team standing idle while others fought for a cause he believed in gnawed at him.

Yet, as he searched for the right words, a wave of reason washed over him, dousing his fiery impulses.

He realized, with a heavy heart, that Charles's perspective was grounded in a sobering truth.

If the X-Men were to engage in this mission, they wouldn't just confront external threats; they would put their very existence at risk. The possibility of losing their safe haven, the fragile balance of their lives, and everything they had fought to protect loomed heavily in his mind. The thought paralyzed him momentarily, forcing him to acknowledge that the cost of participation could be far greater than he had imagined.

Damn it! Scott thought.

"Is there... truly nothing we can do?" Rogue asked softly, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if seeking comfort from her own doubts. She looked around at her friends, searching their faces for any glimmer of hope.

"Man… this is so messed up," Kurt said, his voice heavy with sadness. He stared at the ground, the weight of their situation pulling him down. Beside him, Evan nodded in agreement, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, silently conveying his shared frustration and helplessness.

"Sorry, Wyatt. But we can't help. Our hands are tied," Logan said regretfully, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The anger in his eyes mirrored his inner turmoil; as a protector, he hated feeling powerless.

"It's alright... I understand," Wyatt replied, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips despite the dread surrounding them. "But when this is all over, those mutants will need a place to go — a sanctuary where they can feel safe and accepted."

Charles, ever the visionary leader, smiled sadly and nodded in agreement. "My institution will welcome them with open arms," he assured them, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of his responsibilities.

Wyatt was about to leave when suddenly, Kitty dashed toward him, her expression frantic as she grasped his arm. "No! No! This is so messed up! You can't do this! Please!" Her eyes shone with urgency, desperation spilling over in her plea.

"I have to, Kitty," Wyatt said gently, patting her back in a comforting gesture. "I can't just stand by and do nothing. That's not who I am, and you know that."

"Then-then I'll come too!" Kitty exclaimed, her voice rising in intensity. "You said my powers were perfect for something like this! Let me help! I can make a difference!"

"Kitty," Ororo interjected softly, her tone tinged with concern. She stepped closer but ultimately made no move to physically restrain the spirited girl. "Think about what you're doing. If you go, you won't be safe anymore — not even here with us. We won't be able to protect you if the government comes for you."

"I don't care!" Kitty shouted, her frustration boiling over. "What are we even talking about? There's a whole facility of people like us! Isn't that what the X-Men are for? To help mutants in need? This is so stupid. We're abandoning our kind!" She turned defiantly toward her teachers, her voice filled with conviction. "We have to do this! Even if it means risking our own safety."

"S-she's right! We have to help!" Kurt said, stepping resolutely beside Kitty and Wyatt. His determination flared as he looked around, seeing the mutual fear and uncertainty. "I won't let my friend do this alone."

"Me neither! I'm not going to sit this out," Evan added, his chest swelling with pride and rebellion, as a newfound sense of purpose took hold.

Jean, watching the scene unfold, turned to Scott, seeking some direction from him. He had been unusually silent, with an eerie calmness that made her uneasy. Deep down, she felt torn. Part of her yearned to aid those trapped in despair, desperate for freedom. Yet another voice whispered caution, reminding her of everything at stake — the safety of Xavier's School for the Gifted Youngsters hung in the balance.

"Kitty. Evan. Kurt," Scott said slowly, his voice low and steady, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough. Get back here." The authority in his tone demanded attention, redirecting the energy of the group and challenging their resolve.

"But Scott-"

"No. I understand what you're feeling," Scott said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed with the weight of the moment. "Hell, I want to join you. I want to be out there, fighting for those people, setting them free. But if we go through with this, we'll tear this place apart. We'll destroy our home and everything we've fought for... We need to trust Wyatt to handle this. As difficult as it is to accept."

He stepped closer to Wyatt, pausing to meet his gaze, determination etched on his features. "I was… wrong about you. I'm sorry for what I said before. That was wrong of me."

Wyatt blinked in surprise, briefly catching Scott's intense gaze. He looked down at the hand extended toward him, then a small smile crept onto his face as he grasped Scott's hand firmly. "Thank you, Scott. That means a lot. Just be prepared; several of these people will need the X-Men to help guide them. To show them how to use their abilities. They'll need this school. They'll need a good leader like you to show them the way."

Scott nodded solemnly, taking a step back as the gravity of his decision settled in. He felt an aching desire to join Wyatt and fight alongside him, but he had to stay strong. "Come on, guys. We have to let him go."

Kitty, Evan, and Kurt exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration, itching to argue against Scott's decision. But before they could voice their protests, Wyatt gently glided them back using his powers. "Scott's right. You all shouldn't be implicated in this. The X-Men can't be seen defying the government like I plan to."

"But Wyatt!" Kitty started to say, her voice full of urgency, but her words were cut short when Wyatt put on his helmet. The sleek, metallic surface glinted as he shook his head, signaling the finality of his intent. With a deep breath, he began to float gracefully, leaving the ground behind.

"Wyatt, I'm truly sorry we can't stand with you," Charles said, his voice thick with regret. He looked at the young man before him, a mix of pride and sorrow in his deep-set eyes. "Good luck out there. You're going to need it."

With a determined nod, Wyatt focused on the skies above, his figure becoming more defined against the backdrop of the gathering storm clouds. Then, with a powerful blast, he surged into the sky, leaving a trail of shimmering energy behind him as he vanished into the depths of the clouds.

"Kitty, I'm sure everything will be fine—" Ororo began, her voice steady as she tried to offer reassurance. But before she could finish, Kitty abruptly phased out of her hold, her distress evident in her eyes. She rubbed them in frustration, trying to brush away the tears that threatened to spill over, and then dashed inside the mansion, her footsteps echoing in the hallway.

The remaining group stood in heavy silence, each lost in their own tumultuous thoughts. A million unspoken words and regrets swirled in their minds, lingering in the air like a heavy fog. They all felt the weight of helplessness, yearning to have done something, anything, to help.

Even Charles, typically a beacon of strength and wisdom, remained motionless. He observed Atomic's retreat with a mix of concern and sorrow, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. The gravity of the moment pressed down on him, and he bowed his head in shame, wishing he had found a way to assist in freeing all those trapped.