Blue, Red, Gold #54

Evan's body convulsed in a grimace of pain as his left side grew increasingly unresponsive. The once-fluid movements of his limbs had deteriorated into a defensive, protective posture over his chest.

His stamina may have been boundless, but his healing factor struggled to keep up with the relentless onslaught of the sentinel machines. The relentless pummeling severely damaged his muscles and tendons, gradually robbing him of his mobility.

In the midst of the physical turmoil, Evan's thoughts raced. A wry and ironic musing danced through his mind. 'Well... shit...' he thought, reflecting on the current state.

His concern briefly flitted to Nightcrawler and the image of the pool of blood left behind, wondering about the safety of his student.

Yet, amidst the pain and the encroaching immobility, Evan clung to a sense of purpose. 'At least we bought enough time for Domino to free the captives..'. he mused, drawing a thread of solace from the knowledge that their efforts had not been in vain.

With each passing moment, Evan's freedom of movement dwindled, the machines relentless in their assault. But his resolve remained unbroken, his thoughts cascading forward into contingency plans. 'I won't die,' he affirmed to himself, 'and even if I get captured, I just have to escape...'

Evan's mind raced, exploring the myriad options for dealing with the sentinel threat after his escape as if it were an inevitability. 'With Forge's power over technology,' he pondered, 'we might be able to do something about these damned machines... worst case scenario, I might need to cash in some of the favors I've been saving for a rainy day...'

As Evan's vision began to blur, he felt the weight of impending unconsciousness pressing upon him. He turned his gaze skyward, mentally preparing for the inevitable loss of consciousness. However, what he saw against the backdrop of the sky reignited the embers of his fighting spirit.

Two figures soared through the air, their presence a beacon of hope amid the chaos. One figure, clad in blue and red, swung gracefully through the air, a symbol of agility and power. The other figure, encased in a mechanical suit adorned in shades of golden and red, soared with the thrusters attached to its legs.

With a defiant grunt, Evan recklessly tapped into the last vestiges of strength he maintained. He forced Extremis to overload his body, causing an explosive surge of heat that radiated outward, sending the sentinel machines surrounding him hurtling in all directions.

His actions secured him a brief respite but also exacerbated his injuries. At this juncture, he bore a closer resemblance to the anatomical models found in biology classrooms than a living human.

Amid the chaos, the man in the mechanical suit descended with precision. It was Tony Stark, known to the world as Iron Man. He hovered over Evan, the thrusters in his suit whirring with power.

From the chest of his mechanical armor, Stark unleashed searing energy blasts, each one a concentrated burst of force. Simultaneously, a barrage of missiles erupted from his shoulder-mounted launchers, tearing through the ranks of the sentinel machines with explosive force.

As Iron Man continued to unleash destruction upon the Sentinels, his metallic suit resounding with each energy blast, he maintained a casual conversation with Evan, not even bothering to turn and face him. "You look like shit. Care to fill me in on what's happening here?"

Evan's voice emerged raspy and strained, his vocal cords clearly affected by the ordeal. "Some dumb genius... tampering with artificial intelligence," he managed to utter, his gaze fixed on Tony Stark. His words carried a deeper meaning, an implication that couldn't be missed.

Under his helmet, Iron Man's eyes rolled in an almost exasperated fashion. "Save the sermon for later when you're not getting your ass saved," he retorted, his focus swiftly returning to the Sentinels. "So, what's the plan?"

Evan's response was a slow and deliberate explanation, his injured hand gesturing to emphasize his points. "These machines are highly adaptive," he began, his voice strained but resolute. "They can share what they've learned with each other." With a hint of frustration, he added, "Cutting off their communication lines should be your priority, if at all possible..."

Iron Man nodded decisively. He toggled a few controls within his suit, his helmeted gaze narrowing with determination. "Understood," he acknowledged before issuing commands to his artificial butler. "Jarvis, you heard the man. Get to work!"

As Jarvis initiated the process of hacking into the Sentinel network, Tony Stark continued his relentless assault, firing energy blasts and launching missiles at the relentless machines. He momentarily shifted his attention to another figure amidst the chaos, his metallic suit gleaming in the battle's tumultuous light.

"Kid, get your ass over here and keep these machines off this guy!" Iron Man's voice rang out through the clashing sounds of combat. Spider-Man, under his mask, couldn't help but pause, his eyes wide with uncertainty as he turned to Iron Man, his gloved hand gesturing toward himself as if to seek clarification.

Iron Man sighed beneath his helmet, a tinge of impatience evident in his tone. "Who else, web-head? Move it!" His words spurred Spider-Man into action.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Ironman, sir," SpiderMan said as he disengaged from his current skirmish, darting swiftly toward Evan. As he approached Evan, his youthful voice filled with shock and disbelief escaped under his mask. "Dude, how are you even standing?" he muttered, a blend of amazement and concern coloring his words.

Evan turned his head to regard Spider-Man, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his battered lips. Despite the pain, he couldn't resist a touch of sarcasm. "With my legs."

...

Navigating through the intricate labyrinth of the underground lab, Domino and her companions encountered progressively fiercer resistance. Domino's unpredictable power wreaked havoc on everything in her path, and Forge's growing army of modified sentinels added to the chaos.

It was only a matter of time before the Master Mold, the sentinel's central intelligence, pinpointed their location and retaliated with calculated brutality.

As sentinels continued to fall by the dozen on the surface, the Master Mold found itself running out of pawns to throw at the invaders. It shifted its tactics, diverting some of the remaining machines to thwart the intruders' advance or, at the very least, delay them until the surface threat was neutralized.

Unbeknownst to them, the actions of Domino and her team had inadvertently lightened Evan's burden on the surface, although the intricacies of this were of little concern at the moment.

Engaged in combat with the latest batch of sentinels blocking their path, Forge's brow furrowed in frustration. He spoke above the din of battle, his voice tinged with irritation. "I've combed through the security footage, and there's no trace of Trask," he reported, his fingers manipulating a holographic map of the facility in mid-air.

He pointed to a particular location on the map, a hidden room marked as the most likely spot. "If he's anywhere in this place, it has to be here," Forge concluded, his words carrying an air of determination as they pressed forward against the relentless tide of sentinels.

After enduring a few moments of intense struggle against the relentless tide of sentinels, the group finally reached their destination: Bolivar Trask's holding cell. The cell was stark white and devoid of any furniture except for a solitary computer console, where Bolivar Trask stood, his fingers moving rapidly over the buttons.

Upon their arrival, Bolivar Trask immediately noticed their presence and nervously shuffled back, his face contorted with fear and disdain. "You stay away from me, you disgusting freaks!" he spat out, his voice laced with both anger and anxiety. Domino and Forge regarded him with bemused expressions, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst.

However, Beast, with his empathetic nature, displayed clear discomfort at the situation. On the other hand, Charles Xavier remained composed, his wheelchair moving forward as he addressed Trask with unwavering resolve. "We're not here to harm you, Mr. Trask," he stated firmly, his voice carrying the weight of his convictions.

"You must come to reason. These machines pose just as much a threat to humanity as they do to mutants," Xavier implored, his gaze steady and unyielding. "You have the knowledge and expertise to help us stop them before it's too late!"

Bolivar clenched his teeth, his face contorted with defiance as he retorted, "No! I designed and created the Sentinels to protect humanity from your kind! They would never pose a danger to humans!"

Charles Xavier let out a weary sigh and responded, "Is that truly the case, Mr. Trask?" His voice held a hint of disappointment. "But what do humans think of your invention? I can sense their emotions even from here—hatred and fear," he explained, his gaze never wavering. He shook his head with a touch of sadness. "They look at your machines and all they see is monsters..."

As Xavier's words sunk in, Bolivar Trask's expression contorted. Vivid images of terrified civilians, herded away by the X-Men as the Sentinels attacked without mercy, flashed across his mind. The realization of the destruction his creations had wrought on innocent lives seemed to weigh heavily on him.

...

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