London's grey sky still roared above, lightning blooming like cracks in reality, but the storm wasn't the only chaos unfolding today.
Deep within Wembley Stadium, the halls trembled under a different rhythm - boots, blades, and bloodless precision.
Sven and Isaac moved like phantoms designed for infiltration. Months of brutal training and wild experiences had sharpened them into something deadlier, leaner, faster. They had pushed their bodies, honed instincts, and levelled up their mutant abilities until they felt like different men entirely.
Not quite on the blind, sky-dancing level of Takeshi.
But close enough to matter now.
Sven slid under a security laser net without breaking stride, jacket brushing inches above the beam. Isaac phased through a reinforced steel checkpoint door like it was mist, emerging on the other side already walking, already scanning.
