Make sure to check my Patre.on out if you want to support me and want to read advanced chapters: Patre.on.com/VQuintessence
[20 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
...........
Chapter 67: Why do we seek understanding with people the devil would admire?
...........
For a few minutes, he was just a strange, handsome man with different-colored eyes making absurd small talk, and it was the greatest gift he could have given them.
The reprieve was short-lived. The Blackbird, one of the most advanced aircraft on the planet, covered the distance with terrifying speed.
As it descended through the cloaking field over the Xavier estate, the view from the viewport stole everyone's breath.
Chaos. But a contained, surreal chaos.
The mansion grounds were encircled by a small army. Humvees, armored personnel carriers, and the hulking form of a main battle tank were positioned at the perimeter.
Soldiers in full combat gear crouched behind them, weapons trained not on the approaching jet, but on the solitary figure standing between them and the mansion's front doors.
Their arrival caused a stir.
Soldiers shifted aim.
A figure with a megaphone; a man with a thick, white mustache and a thunderous expression, identified instantly by Alice's facial recognition as General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross; turned to glare at the Blackbird.
But the X-Men's eyes were drawn past the military cordon.
Jean Grey stood alone on the manicured lawn. The ground around her was littered with thousands of spent bullet casings, glittering in the afternoon sun like malignant confetti.
Not a single round had reached the mansion. Before her, suspended six feet in the air in a cocoon of shimmering telekinetic energy, was William Stryker.
He hung limp, eyes rolled back white, blood tracing dark paths from his nose, ears, and sewn-shut mouth.
It was Jean's appearance that froze the blood. Her hands were wreathed in coronas of fiery, dark-edged fiery power.
Her eyes were pools of obsidian, within which danced flecks of crimson fire.
Her expression was not one of rage, but of a cold, terrible certainty and focus.
[THE PHOENIX IS HERE! DARK PHOENIX EMERGING!]
[Finally!! The William Stryker done and dusted! No bullshit!]
[General Ross! What's Hulk's nemesis doing here?!]
[Damn, this show is breaking all the usual TV Show tropes.]
[It's because this isn't really a TV Show, but fucking Peak, a miracle!!]
[Preach brother, preach!]
Wolverine's breath hitched. "Jeannie…" He whispered, the fear in his voice plain.
Adam simply smiled. He strode down the Blackbird's ramp, ignoring the shouted commands from General Ross, walking straight through the no-man's-land toward Jean.
The soldiers tensed, but Ross held up a fist, his eyes narrowed, watching the interaction.
Not that they could do anything. They'd seen what she could do and the uselessness of their weaponry against her.
Adam's approach broke Jean's terrifying fixation. Her head turned slightly. The darkness in her eyes swirled, recognizing him.
He stopped before her, his own expression calm, assessing. His Information Vision worked overtime, analyzing every single thing about her, how she was observing him, how she was assessing him, and the information she was releasing.
He saw a hint of the Force, yes; a vast, cosmic pressure; but he also saw Jean. Holding it. Channeling it. Not being consumed. Not yet, at least.
He could act. No danger here.
Slowly, he raised a hand, ignoring the psychic corona that could vaporize steel. He placed his palm gently against her cheek.
The dark fire didn't burn him or even reach him; it parted like mist before his touch, sensing no fear, no threat, only unwavering certainty.
"It's okay," He said, his voice soft but carrying. "I'm here."
The words were the key to a dam. The crushing darkness in Jean's eyes shattered, receding like a tide.
The obsidian melted into her familiar green, now swimming with tears. She saw his face; no horror, no condemnation. Only admiration. Approval. Pride.
A sob broke from her. The telekinetic hold on Stryker didn't waver, but she turned into Adam's embrace, burying her face in his shoulder, her body shaking with silent, wrenching tears.
He held her, one hand stroking her hair.
"It's okay," He murmured again. "You did the right thing. You know you did." He pulled back slightly, cupping her face to make her meet his gaze.
"You must have been certain. Otherwise, the kind, big-hearted Jean Grey I know would have held back."
"I looked," She choked out, the words tumbling between gasps. "Adam, I looked into his mind. I saw… I didn't know people like that existed. The things he did…"
"If I'd pushed myself, been stronger, looked harder, I could have stopped him sooner!" Her voice rose, edged with a grief that was also fury.
"He killed his own newborn son. His wife. He's killed thousands. And people supported him! They cheered! They killed children, Adam! Mutant children!"
"Why? Please, tell me, why are people like that? Why do we seek understanding with people the devil would admire?"
[Tf? He killed his newborn child? How? Why?]
[People can be very evil, man. Some real stories I've read about. That shit almost sent me into depression.]
[She saw the full, unfiltered horror documentary of Stryker's soul. Sounds yum.]
[She's questioning Xavier's entire dream! Yuy!! Adam's corrupted her!]
[Adam's answer will shape her forever.]
Adam met her desperate gaze, his own eyes showing not a flicker of shock at the atrocities she listed. "The mysteries of the psych are as vast as the universe." He said, his voice thoughtful.
"We can never hope to fully comprehend the spectrum of human psychology. It's too varied. Too broad. Too… creative in its horrors."
"What shapes who we are are endless experiences and variables that understanding sounds like an impossibility."
He offered a dim smile as he brushed a tear from her cheek. "All we can do is treasure our own happiness, look out for suffering, and negate it where we can. For the people you care about, you eliminate the threats to their peace. That's your way. It's a good way."
Then he chuckled, his eyes brightening with his own peculiar madness. "I, on the other hand, am far more selfish."
"The ones I'm fond of are all I care about. If any of you decided to, say, dissolve the world into pretty green crystals tomorrow, I'd probably just get some popcorn and watch the spectacle."
"So, don't follow my example. I'm quite naughty, really." He ended with a laugh, pulling her into another hug.
Despite everything, a wet, hiccupping giggle escaped her. "You're so silly." His absurdity, his unconditional acceptance, acted like a balm. The oppressive weight of her actions lightened. No, they disappeared.
She had killed so many of William's purifiers, but what kind of garbage do you have to be to follow the devil?
She knew, in her core, she had done what was necessary. "I know it was right. But the Professor… Will he approve?"
Adam smiled. "Unless he's developed sudden-onset Alzheimer's, he will. And speaking of which."
He nodded toward the Blackbird, where Beast was carefully unloading the stretcher holding Xavier, "He needs your help right now. So maybe you can guilt-trip him into approving. A little emotional blackmail never hurt."
Jean giggled again, the sound more genuine.
Then she realized how closely they were entwined, in full view of the X-Men, the army, the world.
A blush bloomed across her tear-stained cheeks. With a last, grateful squeeze, she let go and practically fled toward the rest, her steps lighter, her posture straighter.
She felt reborn. Unshackled. She didn't need the Professor's approval, because her own certainty was a newfound pillar within her.
Trash like Stryker didn't deserve the label 'human,' didn't deserve to draw breath. That conviction was hers now.
[She's evolved. The Jean Grey who walked away is not the one who stood against the army.]
[Jean is an empath. I don't think Adam knows of fear, so his lack of fear of her must be a drug to her.]
[She's gonna heal Charles with a whole new perspective. This is gonna be interesting.]
Adam watched her go, then his gaze shifted to the still-suspended form of William Stryker. Alive. Technically.
But Jean hadn't just tortured him; she had unspooled his mind, leaving a hollow, broken puppet. A vegetable. She mind fucked him.
Resurrection. Healing. Cosmic undo buttons, Adam thought coldly. In this universe, death was often a revolving door.
True deletion was harder.
He finally turned, allowing the sounds he'd been filtering out to flood back in.
"...RETURN COLONEL STRYKER TO US IMMEDIATELY!" General Ross's voice boomed through the megaphone, red-faced with fury.
"YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF A DOZEN FEDERAL STATUTES! YOU WILL FACE A MILITARY TRIBUNAL! YOU WILL REGRET THIS STAND!"
Adam took a few calm steps forward, placing himself between the mansion and the army.
All eyes were on him. His white suit was scorched, his mechanical arms retracted and silent. He looked like a tired businessman after a long day.
He looked directly at General Thaddeus Ross.
His voice, when it came, was calm, clear, and carried with a chilling, killing intent.
"You have two minutes to pack your toys and leave this property," Adam stated, his heterochromatic eyes unwavering.
"If you are not gone in one hundred and twenty seconds, I will have you all deleted from existence."
He paused, letting the absolute, murderous certainty sink into the silence.
"And I do not care for the consequences."
...............................
[ 800 Power Stones For An Extra Chapter! ]
[ 1600 Power Stones For Another Extra Chapter! ]
...............................