After The Wraith disappeared into the shadows, leaving the group to tend to the children, Storm turned to Michelle with a bemused expression. "Is he always like that?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation.
Michelle chuckled, clearly used to The Wraith's eccentricities. "Yeah, he says what he wants and then just vanishes into thin air. It's kind of his thing."
Storm shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Still, he's a kind person. Unlike a lot of people in this world, he isn't fake."
Her words seemed to strike a chord with Dr. Hank McCoy, who had been quietly observing the exchange. "He's definitely unique and eccentric, alright," he said after a long pause, his voice thoughtful. "But there's no denying his intentions are genuine."
The group quickly shifted their focus to the more pressing matter at hand: the thirty children sleeping in the warehouse. Storm, Michelle, Logan, and Hank worked together to ensure the kids were safe and comfortable. They called the Xavier School for backup, and soon, larger vehicles arrived to transport the children to the school.
By the time morning came, the Xavier School was bustling with activity. The sudden arrival of thirty new children had turned the usually orderly school into a chaotic but lively place. The kids, now awake, were understandably confused and scared, but the staff and students worked tirelessly to make them feel welcome.
In the midst of the chaos, Charles Xavier called an emergency meeting. The senior members of the X-Men, along with a few of the older students, gathered in the professor's office to discuss the events of the previous night.
Dr. Hank McCoy was the first to speak. "The Wraith is an incredibly intelligent and calculated individual," he said, his tone measured. "He's able to think several steps ahead, considering not just his own actions but the broader implications for the entire mutant community."
Scott Summers, aka Cyclops, leaned forward, his expression one of disbelief. "Hold on a minute. You all met with The Wraith?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise. Jean Grey, sitting beside him, shared his shock.
"Yes, we met him last night," Storm replied, her tone calm but firm. "Now, please, Scott, calm down and stay quiet for a bit. This is important."
Colossus, the towering Russian mutant with metallic skin, chimed in next. "I heard that Comrade Wraith is a menace in the news," he said, his deep voice carrying a hint of admiration. "But he sounds like someone who fights for justice."
Kurt Wagner, aka Nightcrawler, added with a grin, "A viral menace, my friends. The kind that keeps the bad guys up at night."
Charles Xavier raised a hand, silencing the room. "Students, please," he said, his voice calm but authoritative. "Let's stay focused. Storm, your input?"
Storm sighed; her expression thoughtful. "The man is an enigma. There's no doubt about that. He's also incredibly informative. He knew things about us—about me—that even I didn't know. Thanks to him, I found out that I'm actually a real princess."
The room erupted in gasps and exclamations. Charles Xavier's eyes widened in shock. "Hold on, what?!" he exclaimed, his usually composed demeanor slipping.
Jean Grey, Scott, Colossus, and Kurt all shouted in unison, "Professor Ororo is a princess?!" Their voices carried through the room, and even the kids eavesdropping outside the door couldn't contain their excitement.
Charles rubbed his temples, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "This conversation has deviated far from the topic," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and frustration. "Let's try to stay on track, shall we?"
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Right outside the Xavier School, hidden in the shadows, a S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance van sat quietly. Inside, agents monitored the ongoing activities within the school through a network of wiretaps and listening devices. The agents had been stationed there for weeks, gathering intelligence on the mutant community. But tonight, they had struck gold.
"Sir, we've received new information from Xavier School," one of the agents said, his voice tense with excitement. "It's about The Wraith."
The agent quickly relayed the details to Phil Coulson, who was overseeing the operation. Coulson, ever the professional, listened intently before making a call to Nick Fury. Within minutes, Fury was briefed on the situation.
"The Wraith is saving mutants," Fury muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and curiosity. "But where is he finding them in such large numbers? And who are these 'bad people' he's taking them from?"
The situation was troubling. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been keeping tabs on The Wraith for months, but he remained an enigma. His actions were unpredictable, and his motives were unclear. What was clear, however, was that he was a force to be reckoned with. And if he was rescuing mutants from dangerous organizations, it raised even more questions.
"We don't need another Magneto," Fury said, his voice low and grim. "And The Wraith… he's a different kind of problem altogether."
Phil Coulson, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. "I don't think he'll team up with Magneto, sir."
Fury raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"Compared to Magneto, The Wraith is new to the scene," Coulson explained. "He has his own motivations and goals. And from what we've seen, he's incredibly smart and elusive... If he wanted to work with Magneto, he would've reached out by now."
Fury considered this for a moment before nodding. "Makes sense. Let's hope it stays that way."
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Meanwhile, in a hidden warehouse far from prying eyes, Magina and I were hard at work. The time had finally come to confront Dietrich Voss, the man who had been at the center of my mission for so long. The pieces were in place, and the stage was set. All that remained was the final act.
"Father, it seems Dietrich Voss has finally realized that you're coming for him," Magina said, her voice calm but tinged with satisfaction. On the screen in front of us, a live feed showed Voss pacing nervously in his office, his face pale and his movements erratic.
"If he didn't get it by now, I'd be disappointed," I said, my tone dripping with disdain. "After all, I've left him plenty of clues."
That's right. Over the past few nights, I had systematically eliminated two of Voss's closest allies: Detective Miles Corbin and Agent Isabella Diaz. Both had been marked with the same symbol—a chilling reminder of what was to come. Only one head remained: Dietrich Voss himself.
If he still didn't understand the message after all his secret channels had been cut and his allies had fallen, then he truly wasn't worth the energy I had spent hating him all this time.
"I'm going to take my time with this hit, Magina," I said, my voice steady as I prepared my gear. Around me, the warehouse was a hive of activity. Shadow Servants moved silently through the space, cleaning, organizing, and ensuring everything was in perfect order. They were an extension of my will, loyal and efficient.
"You can take as much time as you need, Father," Magina assured me, her voice filled with unwavering support. "I'll make sure no one interrupts this special moment."
I smiled, feeling a rare sense of gratitude. "Thank you, Magina. I really appreciate you."
"It's what I do, Father," she replied, her tone proud and confident.
As I finished gearing up, I took a moment to reflect on the journey that had brought me here. Dietrich Voss had been a thorn in my side for far too long, but his time was up. Tonight, I would finally put an end to him—and with him, a chapter of my mission would close.
But this wasn't just about revenge. It was about sending a message. To HYDRA, to S.H.I.E.L.D., to anyone who thought they could exploit and harm the innocent. The Wraith was coming, and no one was safe.