Date: Thursday, July 15, 2010.

  Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, NY

  Date: Thursday, July 15, 2010.

  Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, NY

  Tyson took a step using Illyana’s borrowed teleportation to position himself directly behind the invading soldier. In a fluid, lethal motion, he lunged forward. Razor-sharp cws extended from each of Tyson’s fingers, and they effortlessly punctured the thick armor that the soldier wore. They dug deep, wedgiween the muscles of the soldier’s back, snapping the delicate vertebrae, and slig through the spinal cord. The soldier's body immediately went limp, a gasp esg his lips. A rush of memories flooded into Tyson.

  He grew up in a struggling neighborhood. He had been a promising athlete, but a severe injury during a high school game ended his dreams of making it big. The burden of hospital bills forced him to join the military. He served his term and roached by a man recruiting ex-soldiers, promising money and power. He was in a mission briefing for the assault on the Xavier Institute. He and a group of meraries would be the first to infiltrate the institute, and silently takedown any mutants entered. And assist the sed team irieving specific data, materials, and any captured mutants.

  The onsught of memories slowed, and Tyson was thrust bato the present. After the initial rush, he was learning to trol the flow of memories and tilt them in a dire that would help his current situation. Armed with the knowledge of the invader’s pns, he stared down at the motionless form whose life had been irrevocably altered in mere seds. The weight of what he'd done bore down on him. He could see the remnants of the man's past, the choices that had led him to this tragient, pying out like a movie in his mind. He felt an overwhelming pang of guilt. He saw the soldier as a victim of circumstance, a man forced into a life of violence due to societal pressures and ck of options. Yet, there was another voiside Tyson, a much darker and ferocious ohat reveled in the hunt, the thrill of the chase, and the power. This soldier was just another prey, ahat had threateheir territory, and thus, deserved no mercy. The two voices cshed within him, each battling for dominance over his as and feelings.

  Shaking his head, as if trying to physically dispel the warring thoughts, Tyson hardened his feelings. The weight of his as would remain to be digested another day. His friends needed him now. And if the soldiers came to hunt children, he had no problems hunting them in turn.

  Tyson moved like a shadow, swift and deadly. Each step he toht him to a different location, allowing him to attack from ued dires. The trained soldiers stood no ce against the fury that was Tyson.

  She had grown up in a rough neighborhood where joining the army had seemed like her only way out. She'd wao make a better life for her younger siblings. They had looked up to her, their bea of hope. Her determination and fierce loyalty to her family were traits she'd taken with her into her service.

  He was a tall man with a shaved head. A smiling woman and a little girl fshed before his eyes. They were his wife and daughter. He'd joihe military out of a sense of duty, but also because it provided for his family. He'd promised his daughter he'd be back for her birthday.

  He roud graduate, top of his css at Westpoint. Yet, deep down, he'd always harbored doubts and questions about the orders he was given and the morals behind them. He'd wao ge the system from within.

  Tyson, now filled with the memories aions of his victims, staggered back. The weight of their lives, dreams, as bore down on him. Each story added another yer of plexity to his psyche, battling with the ferocious instincts of Sabertooth and his own i nature.

  The battlefield was silent for a moment, save for Tyson's heavy breathing. The knowledge that these were not faceless enemies but people with dreams, families, and stories was overwhelming. The flict within him grew even more intense, as he grappled with the sequences of his as and the lives he'd taken. His mind was a cacophony of thoughts and memories. But ohing was shared across all the temporarily-absorbed personalities.

  The ability to detad focus on the mission.

  He felt it deep in his core, an unwavering vi that was shared among all the voices inside him. His mission was clear, defend The Institute. Nothing else mattered now but its prote.

  Tyson knew he couldn’t tinue as he was. The ever-increasing, flig psyches would eventually overwhelm him. He bent down and ed his hands around the hilt of a discarded rifle. The o reassuring in his grip. With all his absorbed memories, he was a highly trained soldier with several lifetimes of bat experienbsp;

  As he turned a er, five soldiers spotted him. They aimed their guns, ready to take dowhreat. But Tyson was faster. Using his teleportation ability, he blinked out of existence for a mere sed, reappearing behind the first soldier. A quick shot and the ma down. The other soldiers scrambled, firing wildly in surprise, but Tyson was already goelep again.

  Appearing atop a railing, he took aim and quickly dispatched the sed and third soldiers with well-pced shots. The fourth, realizing he couldn’t track Tyson’s uable movements, tried to backpedal ireat. But in the blink of ayson was in front of him, a heavy punocked him out cold and likely did internal damage with its force.

  The final soldier, driven by fear, threw a grenade. With lightning reflexes, Tyson opened a portal to Limbo. The explosive sailed through the opening into the demon-filled dimension. A single shot rehe man no longer a threat.

  Tyson surveyed the se. Another five soldiers down, in mere moments. But his work was far from over. No one, not even an army, could stand in his way.

  With a blinding fsh of blue energy, Tyson emerged atop the Institute's rooftop. The wind tousled his hair, but his focus was solely on the unfolding chaos below. Scores of uniformed soldiers approached the school. Their calcuted assault seemed rehearsed as if they knew every nook and y of the Institute. From the vans parked outside the gates to the teams tactically navigating the yard, to using the tral fountain for cover… it was an invasion. Then, the distinct sounds of helicopter bdes caught his attention. In the distance, choppers loomed ominously, their dark silhouettes approag.

  The clock was tig. He knew he only had about three minutes left with the borrowed abilities. He o make the biggest impact possible while he still could.

  His eyes fixed on one of the helicopters. eling Jean’s telekinesis, he stretched out his hand, feeling the immense psychiergy envelop the aircraft. Soldiers below looked up in fusion and terror as the chopper started wobbliically in the air. With a forceful pull, Tysohe helicopter crashing down amongst the soldiers in the yard.

  A massive fireball erupted from the impact site, a shockwave of heat radiating outwards. Shrapnel scattered in every dire, sending soldiers diving for cover. The explosion's sheer forocked many off their feet, halting their progress. The fire from the explosion morphed and danced in ways fire shouldn't, twisting and turning as if it had a life of its own. To Tyson's astonishment, it formed into the menag shape of a dragon. The creature, made entirely of fmes, surged towards the soldiers, causing them to fire upon the creature. Their disciplined ranks broke as their bullets had no effed they tried to flee the creature's fiery wrath.

  Peering into the thoughts around him, a particur strand of emotion stood out. It was the gleeful, celebratory thoughts of John, the fire-trolling mutant. Tyson took a quick step, instantly appearing beside John. Without giving him a ce to react, Tyson grabbed his arm and teleported once more.

  They emerged at the evacuation point, where he’d left Jean and Jubilee. The sudden arrival startled the kids streaming by. But before anyone could say anything, John pulled away from Tyson's grip, his expression a mix of anger and fusion. "Why?!" he yelled, his eyes fring with the same iy as the fmes he trolled. "I was helping!"

  Tyson’s voice filled with urgency. "Help by not getting captured," he retorted. Pointing around him at all the fleeing kids. "You’re strong. You o protect our friends. Jean and Illyana are going to be weak because they gave me so much of themselves. Don’t make me waste it fighting you too. Everyone here needs you."

  John's defiance faltered uyson's anding presence, but the fire in his eyes remained. Before he could argue further, Tyson took aep, vanishing from the se and reappearing on the roof, ready to face the chaos once more.

  The sed chopper attempted to withdraw from the area, clearly not eager to meet the same fate as its predecessor. Tyson, however, had other pns. He reached out with his telekinesis; the force of his will ed around the fleeing aircraft, stopping it mid-air. The soldiers iared out in horror, trying to figure out why their escape had been abruptly halted.

  Then, with a sudden, forceful pull, Tyson flung the helicopter like a toy, sending it crashing into one of the rge vans parked just outside the institute's gates. The deafening crash echoed across the grounds, punctuated by the explosive rupture of the van's fuel tank. Fmes shot into the air, casting eerie shadows against the dark backdrop of the night.

  Not doyson looked down at the voy of vans attempting to deposit more troops. With a wave of his hand, two of them lifted off the ground. The soldiers beh, seeing the massive vehicles being maniputed like they were nothing more than cardboard cutouts, tried to scatter. But Tyson was too fast. With a swift motion, he dragged the airborne vans across the wn, sweeping uhem the advang soldiers like bugs under a broom. The force was such that those caught directly uhe vans were crushed, while others were knocked aside, dazed, disoriented, disabled, or dead.

  The battleground outside the institute was quickly turning into a field of destru, all orchestrated by a siermined mutant.

  Tyso a sharp, excruciating pain in his chest. It was like being hit with a hammer but from the inside. Owo, three. The blistered before the sound of the bullets being discharged reached him. He looked down, disbelief clouding his vision. Massive rounds must have ght through, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. The realization that he was missing a rge se from his torso caused his world to spin. In his mind, the whispers of the personalities he housed became frantic, overpping into a chaotioise. Without thinking, he teleported, disappearing from the rooftop and reappearing inside his room at the institute. The familiar surroundings offered no fort as he colpsed onto the flasping. His hands went to his chest, fingers sinking into the warm, wet mess at the edge of the gaping hole. It felt like trying to hold onto a handful of thick, slippery mud.

  But the gaping holes in his chest from the rge caliber bullets began to close. At first, it was like watg a zipper pull flesh together. Then, as the seds ticked by, ans reformed as the maissue reformed until there was nothi but smooth skin.

  Heaving with exertion, Tyson y there for a moment, letting the cool floor beh him ground his senses.

  Gathering his resolve, Tyson stood up. He envisiohe institute's roof. Taking a step he tried to draw oeleportation power. The familiar pull of teleportation, the sensation of space ing around him, was gohe walls of his room still enclosed him. His e to Jean and Illyana's abilities had vanished. A pit formed in his stomach. Without those powers, his options were suddenly limited. He could hear the distant sounds of fighting and shouts of soldiers. The logical part of him knew he should head to the evacuation point, and regroup with the others. But there was a fire inside him, ohat had been ignited by a presen his mind, urging him to tihe battle. Tyson's fingers ched and unched, torweewo desires. But then an explosion from outside solidified his decision. The primal urge, the hunter in him, drove him to fight.

  Tyson stepped into the hallway. He took a moment, tilting his head slightly, nostrils fring. The air was thick with various sts. Overp everything was the tangy st of fear, an almost sour smell that made his witch. Beh it, he detected the distinct smell of sweat, mixed with the sharp st of gunpowder. But what he was searg for was the unique st of a person, the individual cocktail of pheromones and body odor that would lead him to his arget. He followed a trail, the smell growing stronger. His heightened senses allowed him to detect the fairaces of huma, leading him like a pass straight to his prey.

  Rounding a er, he came face to face with a soldier, on raised. Before Tyson could react, a dart from a tranquilizer gun pierced his skin. Immediately, a cold sensation spread from the point of impact, making his limbs feel heavy. But it sted only a moment, the effect ebbing away almost as quickly as it had e, his healing factor ralizing the drug. With a roar, Tyson lunged forward, closing the distaween them in a heartbeat. His cws sshed through the soldier's armor, cutting into flesh. The soldier's eyes widened in shock, and before he could scream, his visio bck.

  As Tyson moved down the hallway, a fresh st wafted toward him, unique and tantalizing. The base note was sistent; a soft, floral aroma that felt alluring and soothing. Layered above it were individual nuances, each carrying a hint of vanil, another with a touch of vender, amon, and honey, and the st with a slight citrusy tang. Though they differed slightly, these sts were almost harmoniously iwined, suggesting a deep e between their sources. The allure of these fragrances was undeniable, and Tyso an almost magic pull toward them. Following this olfactory trail, Tyson's predatory instincts kicked in, and he began to move silently, stalking the ins of the sts.

  The corridor opened up into a room, and in the ter stood a man. Surrounding him were five identical women, each impeccably dressed. Their blonde hair fell in perfect waves, casg down their backs and framing their strikingly simir faces. Their icy blue eyes were sharp and intelligent, each set beh delicately arched eyebrows. Their lips, a pale shade of pink, were set in expressions that seemed both aloof and intensely focused. These women moved with a synous grace, every gesture mirr the iving an almost eerie sense of coordination. Their por skin, fwless and almost glowing, stood out against their white dresses, creating ahereal aura around them.

  The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as the five blondes began to speak, their voices harmonizing in a way that was both mesmerizing and unnerving.

  "He's the st one," one began, her voice dripping with cold authority.

  "There are no others nearby," another tinued, her tone almost mog.

  "He's a hunter," the third one added, eyes sharp and assessing.

  "He's killed many men," said the fourth, her gaze unwavering.

  Their words were delivered with an eerie ce, and Tyso like he was being surrounded by a singur entity rather than five separate individuals. It was a dance of voices, each taking a turn, leading and following, pleting each other's senteheir synized movements were almost as entrang as their bined voices. Every tilt of their heads, every blink of their eyes, seemed perfectly timed and coordihe five identical blondes were dressed in pristine white outfits that made them look almost angelic. Their pierg blue eyes seemed to look straight through Tyson, disseg his every thought aion.

  The fifth, who had been silent thus far, stepped forward, her gaze unwavering, “He's strohan he appears but weaker than he was.” she said, her voice as cold and ical as the rest.

  Tyson tried to keep his posure, but he couldn't help but be affected by their collective presence. “Who are you?” he demarying to assert some trol over the situation.

  “Who we are is of no sequeo you,” they replied with eerie synization. “What you should be worried about, is what we want.”

  “Which is?” Tyson asked defiantly.

  The five shared a brief, knowing gnce before responding, “You.”

  Tyso a prickle at the base of his skull like fiig his mind. “I’m taken,” he growled, his hackles rising.

  The fourth chuckled lightly, her voice dripping with amusement, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  The fifth and final bloook aep closer, her eyes never leaving Tyson's. “We’ll just take what we need,” she finished, a wicked smile pying on her lips.

  The eeriness of the enter settled heavily on Tyson. As he focused on the blohe man in the middle broke the hypnotic . "Well, aren't you quite the prize?" he said with a smug grin, his eyes sing Tyson from head to toe. "I saw my men shoot you," he tiapping his chest three times for emphasis. "But here you are, no worse for wear. How lucky am I that I entered the same unique power, four times? Makes me think it’s not so unique. But you’ve got something else special in you. A temporary powerup of some kind?"

  Tyson tried to make sense of the man's words, but another st began to creep into his senses. At first, it was hiddeh the sweet allure of the blondes, but as Tyson honed in on it, it became more distinct. It was an odor that brought to mind graveyards and decay, the chilling aroma of rotting flesh mixed with the sharp tang of etal. The st was remi of death, and Tyson knew instinctively it was dangerous. But, the smell was not ing from any of the people in front of him.

  Quiz for enters

  Who are the 5 blondes?Who do you think is the st of death aal?Behind the ses

  - This se was inspired by X-2: X-men United (2003).

  - I thought it strahat even with the element of surprise and intimate knowledge of the institute, Stryker was able to invade so easily, without any supers of his own. So here we see some of the ges in this universe, and sequences of its past drawn from some id film events. If you remember X-Men ins: Wolverine and could answer Question 1… You should be able to put the pieces together to the 5 blondes’ ins here.