Apocalypse Now
"Quick, Kurt, Nightcrawler, take the Professor for treatment!" The events that unfolded in mere moments had taken everyone by surprise. Cyclops, looking at the Professor who was barely clinging to life, lost all sense of restraint and roared his command.
In a blur of blue mist, Nightcrawler grasped the Professor, now brain-dead, and vanished from the clock tower.
What followed was the sheer fury of Cyclops and the torrential tears of Storm.
"You! What! Did! You! Do! To! The! Professor!?" Cyclops seethed through gritted teeth, his rage so intense it seemed it could evaporate the torrential downpour.
"I did nothing," Aiden replied quietly. He truly bore no ill will toward the Professor, a man whose actions had earned Aiden's respect.
But the unexpected had occurred. Aiden had no intention of harming the Professor, yet it was an undeniable fact that the Professor had died due to the memories in Aiden's mind.
"Lies, explain yourself! You mongrel!" Cyclops, losing all composure, activated his visor, unleashing a thick beam of laser from his ruby-quartz glasses.
Aiden, with an agile flip, dodged the deadly laser. In the darkened sky, twin beams of crimson light blazed forth from the clock tower, streaking across New York City, drawing a vivid scarlet serpent in the night, a sight both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
In such a dark world, the appearance of these blinding lights was indeed a spectacle that left onlookers speechless.
"What did you do to the Professor!?" Storm, typically reticent, was now furious. She had been through life and death with the Professor countless times, taken into the school as a young girl, provided a safe haven, nurtured, and taught. To Storm, the Professor was not just a mentor; he was family.
Storm's eyes turned white, and a bolt of lightning shot forth with no chance for Aiden to evade.
Instantaneous. It was instantaneous. Aiden, catching up to reality, was slammed against the wall with such force that the metal bars bent, and the electrical shock left his body tingling uncontrollably.
In the cinematic universe, Storm was always portrayed as needing a "casting time" due to the necessity of weakening mutants' powers. But now, in a rage, Storm's full might was unleashed instantly, elevating the danger Aiden faced by several magnitudes.
Aiden grimaced through the numbness, his teeth chattering as he stammered, "I never meant any harm to the Professor, I did nothing! I regret what has happened."
"Shut up, you mongrel!" Cyclops glared at Aiden, sweeping a massive laser beam across, and Aiden had no doubt he would be bisected by it.
"Damn it." Struggling against his electrified body, Aiden extended a hand, and a barrage of gunfire erupted from a distance, spewing flames.
Storm, with her wealth of experience, casually waved her hand, summoning a fierce wind that swept the guns away.
In the darkness, alongside the guns, a ghostly figure was tossed about—the omnipresent wind revealed the hidden assailant, and Nicole's attempt to fire was instantly thwarted. Her tall frame was slammed against the wall. Meanwhile, Aiden stretched out a hand, using his powers to desperately fend off the relentless laser, but to no avail. The blinding beam struck him, sending him hurtling out of the tower.
The impact sent Aiden flying, and as the clock tower partially collapsed without its wall support, it seemed poised to crumble entirely.
Blood sprayed from Aiden's shattered chest; a fall from such a height meant certain death.
Desperately trying to stabilize himself in midair, a bolt of lightning narrowly missed Aiden, blasting a crater into the ground far below.
At this moment, Aiden had abandoned any thought of holding back. Regardless of the cause, this was a battle for survival. The X-Men, who had always been seen as the heroes, were now truly incensed by Aiden.
Regret for the Professor's death was there, yes, but Aiden bore no guilt. First, he truly had no intentions to harm the Professor. Second, it was the wise old man who had intruded into Aiden's mind; Aiden was the victim, not the aggressor.
With a roll, Aiden plunged into the building opposite the tower like a small boat in a giant wave, always on the verge of capsizing amidst the laser beams and thunderous sky.
Glass shattered, embedding into Aiden's flesh, snapping him back to awareness as he crawled behind a desk. The office workers stared in shock—was this the end of the world? Now, a man had flown in?
Aiden's gaze swept over them, and screams erupted as the suited men and women fled in panic.
Outside the window, Cyclops soared toward Aiden, his approach brazen, carried aloft by Storm's winds. Aiden, seeing his reflection and the incoming foes in the mirror, waved a hand, and Cyclops plummeted from the sky.
Storm instinctively reached out to catch Cyclops, not with her powers but with her hands. Meanwhile, from the collapsing clock tower, a shadow dashed out, a long figure unfurling, hurling a box into the air and brandishing a razor-sharp katana.
The cold raindrops struck the cold blade, slicing a perfect cross-section through the torrential curtain aimed at Storm's nape.
"Ororo!" Cyclops, falling, witnessed everything and activated his visor. The red beam struck Nicole, relentless in his fury. To Aiden, it seemed the chaotic world froze in that moment.
The thick laser beam hit Nicole's chest, bending her elongated frame into a bow shape and continued its furious assault until it burst forth from her back, her body horrifically pierced through.
Aiden's hand froze mid-air, stunned by the sight. The box, thrown by inertia, crashed against his hand and tumbled to the ground, spilling gun parts.
In her final moments, was she trying to deliver him a weapon?
As the laser faded, the darkened sky lost its last light. In the low-visibility blackness, Nicole's once star-like eyes lost their luster, like her life, plummeting rapidly.
"You," Aiden's eyes hadn't shown such a look in a long time—it was as if he were back in the days of the brutal Hydra organization.
With a fierce tug and an upheld hand, Aiden redirected Nicole's upward flight toward his building.
Simultaneously, gun parts on the ground began to assemble rapidly—maybe in one second, maybe two. In that brief instant, a Barrett sniper rifle formed and flew into Aiden's hands. He stood motionless, like a corpse, as his pounding heart slowed in the torrential rain. The long barrel and silver material gleamed under the lightning.
With a deafening bang, the bullet that traveled the tens of meters was not just a projectile; it was a counterstrike, a definitive resolution.
Perhaps it was an apology to Nicole.
Perhaps it was also a touch of rage against all the destinies thrust upon him.
Distantly, Storm, recovering from the shock of Nicole's perforated body, looked down to save the rapidly falling Cyclops. She had just lifted him when her beautiful head exploded like a watermelon, mixing with the rain to become blood-rain, sprinkling over New York City from the heights above.
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