X-men: World of Gray

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The CIA hadn't cleaned up the rubble. The research base Shaw had attacked five months before was cloaked with black tarps; construction equipment littered the lawn like trash beside a dumpster. Crumbled cement from the main atrium had been tossed into piles and left aside. The place looked most unfortunate.

Such a pity—it was about to have another misfortune.

Knelt down in the grass just off from the base, Magneto glanced to his left. "You ready?" he asked.

Beside him, Mystique nodded, her gold eyes practically glowing in the night's dim light. She didn't say anything, and Magneto knew better than to throw instructions or orders at the young woman. She didn't appreciate either. And she was good at following his lead without him offering any.

They stood and walked. Slowly. Casually. Like a stroll in a park, and as Magneto and Mystique approached the base, he could already hear the thunderous booming from within.

Azazel and Riptide had already made their way inside.

High above them, there was a flash of red. A man screamed, falling. On the other side of the base, he plummeted, and even from the distance, Magneto could hear the man's body crash into the base's roof. Then another flash of red. Another man fell.

Then another.

Beside him, Mystique flinched but said nothing.

Magneto reached one of the side doors. He flicked his hand. The metal lock snapped like a matchstick between two fingers, and he and Mystique entered. Inside, things were already chaotic. Down the hall, Magneto heard agents screaming, heard guns fired—and footfalls reverberated across the tiled flooring. Gusts of air raged around him and Mystique; deeper inside the complex, Riptide was busy.

Of course, the other mutant was merely a distraction. So was Azazel, Emma and Angel, all weaving throughout the base like a lion pack maneuvering towards its prey.

"This way," Magneto told Mystique, and they walked down the hall.

In front of them, agents raced through an intersecting hallway, their black jackets and ties flapping through the air. Guns were held at the ready. Magneto glided in front of Mystique, waiting for one of the agents to glance their direction.

It took but an instant.

Two agents skidded to a stop, their polished dress shoes squeaking on the tiles. They raised their firing hands. Magneto stretched out his arms; he felt the metal within his invisible grasp. The guns exploded into fragments as if they were made of glass.

The men stood in stunned silence. Beside him, Mystique stepped out of Magneto's shadow, her bright blue body illuminated by the neon lights above them. Then her casual stroll burst into a run.

Within seconds, she reached the men. Her right leg swung out, catching the first man in the throat. He gasped, but before he had a chance to react, she shifted her body, her left leg kicking as her right one found flooring again. As he clutched his neck, the man stumbled back into the wall behind him and stayed there.

Her form had improved; Azazel's training was certainly paying off.

Nonetheless, it wasn't perfect.

She had become too focused on the first opponent and forgot about the second.

Magneto continued to walk towards them, watching as the other agent slammed his fist into Mystique's face. The woman cried out, her voice suddenly very innocent. The man shouted profanities as he landed another fist, this one into her side.