It's a relief to walk back through the metal detector and into the small anteroom where they left their belongings. Jean has a moment to collect herself before returning to the room where Fury and Scott are waiting with the guards. She sits on the bench against the wall and looks down at her shoes on the floor, remembering the half-dollar she stashed there two days ago in Central Park. Things seemed a lot more fun then. It was scary that the X-Men were missing, but it was also a sort of adventure. Now Jean just wants to find them and go home.

Steve sits next to her and laces up his boots. It takes a while for him to reassemble all the various straps and accessories that are part of his Captain America uniform. When he's done he puts his hand at the middle of Jean's back. "Ready to go?" he asks.

Jean nods, but doesn't get up. "He should probably get stitches," she says. "I mean, if you have a plastic needle or something."

"He refused to see a medic," Steve says.

"Oh."

"But I think it'll be fine," he adds, running his hand up her back to squeeze her shoulder. "It's not that deep. Head wounds bleed a lot."

Jean nods. "Ororo hit her head on the common room fireplace last month and it looked really bad but when we got to the E.R. they only gave her three stitches."

"That sounds scary," Steve says.

"She screamed a lot, but it wasn't that bad." Jean gets up, finally toeing on her shoes and gathering up the pile of metal objects she left behind earlier. "Okay, let's go."

Scott looks up when Steve enters the room, looking agitated and straining to see Jean behind him. "Why didn't you ask him about their secret base?" he asks. "He'll know what kind of defense they have!"

"He's not going to tell us anything useful," Fury says, folding his arms behind his back as he looms over the guards at their station. "Not until we have more leverage against him. No, our best option now is to strike at the Brotherhood's base of operations straightaway, before they have time to prepare."

"And where is that?" Jean asks. "Some island? Do you think the—our friends are there?"

Fury nods. "In the Canary Islands, and most likely. It appears to be their main headquarters."

"Why don't I take you somewhere you can rest?" Steve says. "We won't reach the islands for at least another two hours."

Fury signals his approval with a wave of his hand and Scott nods, probably wanting them to be well rested for tactical reasons. They have been awake since the previous night.

Jean follows Steve and Scott out of the room, but she stops in the doorway. Something Erik said at the end is echoing in her mind. Use your head, Jean. He said the same thing in the park when they were searching for Ororo and he wanted her to use her powers.

If she wants to know what the Avengers are thinking, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s real motivations, there's one sure way to find out. She looks back at Fury, who's hovering over the guards' shoulders and staring into the rows of monitors. He's squinting at Erik's face like he would like to peel back the layers of his skin and stare into his skull underneath.

Well, Fury might not be able to read minds, but Jean can. She closes her eyes, concentrating and reaching out tentatively. She doesn't want to go too far. She can't risk getting lost in other minds the way she did last time. There's no one here who can bring her back aside from Erik. Plus, once S.H.I.E.L.D. figures out she's a telepath, what's to stop them from locking her up just like him? If she's careful, Jean should be able to open her mind up enough to pick up surface thoughts but still stay firmly anchored in her own head.

She hears the guards first, two streams of thought blending together into one long ribbon of nervous worry. What is he doing wish he'd go back upstairs can't take a coffee break with the director standing right over your shoulder not like the prisoner has done anything but scratch his ass for hours god I need a cigarette—

She hears Steve next, his mental voice carrying the same warmth as his physical one. Why'd she stop? Must be looking at Magneto on the screens. Poor kid, he really did a number on her. Hope we find Professor X soon, I don't want to have to tell these kids their heroes are all dead. And what are we supposed to do with three powerful mutant kids if they are?

"Jean?" Steve asks. It takes her a moment to realize he spoke out loud. She turns and comes down the hallway to join him, looking over her shoulder one last time at the room.

Gotta get Ororo and get some sleep, Scott is thinking. Get everyone back in one place and take a nap. So tired, reactions slow.

Jean trails down the hallway after Steve and Scott, one ear tuned into their minds. Steve's thoughts feel largely benign and he doesn't seem to be hiding anything, aside from the fact that he already knows Dr. Xavier is Professor X and that the school is a cover story for the X-Men. But Jean spilled the beans on that herself anyway, as if S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't easily fit the piece together themselves.

Jean keeps her focus behind her as they walk, listening hard for Fury's thoughts, but she doesn't catch anything until they're almost to the end of the hallway. She hears one a single line of thought from him, a heavy thread that weighs on her as they rise up in the elevator. The sooner we capture the rest of the Brotherhood and lock them all up in the Vault, the better. It's too dangerous having these mutants running around loose, even if they are children.

Steve takes them to a small room with a bunk bed. It makes Jean think of the room in the Brotherhood's safe house, but without any windows. The room is obviously uninhabited, the lockers and drawers inside all wide open and empty. Steve has to go looking for linens for them and comes back with a pile of blankets and pillows. He helps them make the beds and then leaves a tiny walkie-talkie on the nightstand that they can use to call him when they wake up.

Jean feels hollowed out, like she's too numb to know how exhausted she really is. She lies down on the bottom bunk, not expecting to sleep, but then she blinks and the room is dark and the clock on the nightstand says it's several hours later.

She sits up with a rush of dizziness and rubs at her eyes. Her mouth tastes sour and she realizes she can't remember the last time she brushed her teeth. She also has to go to the bathroom very badly.

Jean wanders out of the room and finds a shared bathroom down the hall. A woman is coming out of the showers and she gives Jean a weird look, but doesn't stop her. Jean takes care of her bladder and then washes her face in the row of metal sinks. She looks pale in the mirror, except for a spot on her chin where she's getting a pimple. Ugh. She considers popping it, but decides it's better to leave it alone.

When she gets back to the room she tests the walkie-talkie and gets Steve after the second try.

"Scott and I are up on the bridge, why don't you join us?" he says.

"Um, how do I get there?" Jean asks.

"Go find an elevator and tell it who you are. The ship will direct you here."

"…what?"

"Seriously. Try it."

Jean feels very silly, but she does. She goes down the hall to the elevator that she thinks they took from the brig earlier. "Hello? I'm Jean?" she tries. Nothing happens. She's about to radio for Steve again before she has a flash of inspiration and presses the intercom button next to the door. "I'm Jean Grey?"

The elevator dings and the doors open. Jean tentatively steps inside and is whisked upward several flights. When the doors ding open a second time a computerized voice says, "Follow the yellow line to be directed to the bridge."

"I didn't know you could talk," Jean says, surprised.

"I can," the elevator says. "Director Fury finds it unnerving when I do and requests I refrain from backtalk unless it is necessary for successful operations."

"Oh. Well, thanks," Jean says, stepping off.

"You're welcome, Jean Grey," the elevator says, dinging shut pleasantly behind her.

There are a number of different colored stripes of paint on the wall. Jean follows the yellow stripe down several hallways and two right turns until she emerges at the bridge as promised. Every door she encounters along the way opens smoothly just before she reaches it.

Scott is at the observation window with Steve, standing in the middle of the focused quiet of the bridge. "Hey, Jean! Look, those are the Canary Islands," he says, pointing outside.

Jean isn't entirely sure she knows where the Canary Islands are, but she doesn't want to admit that so she just nods and looks down at the sparkling blue water below. She can see what looks like a single large island in the distance, a long rocky ridge encircled by a ring of white sand. There are tiny buildings along the edges of the beach. Further out, in the water, dozens of rocky black crags stick out of the ocean, cloaked in white where the waves break against them

"Geez, we're nearly there. I thought you were going to sleep through the whole thing!" Scott says.

"I'm sure she needed the sleep," Steve says. "Do you feel better, Jean?"

"Yeah." It occurs to her that Steve (and the ship) didn't know her name several hours ago. Scott must have finished outing their secret identities while she was asleep.

"We're rounding the western edge of the archipelago now," Steve explains. "NATO traced a ship stolen in the attack on Ramstein here. We're trying to flush out the attackers in coordination with the US Navy."

"So you're not sure where exactly they are?"

"No, there was a tracking device on the ship, but it was turned off shortly after it was recorded in this vicinity. It's possible they've moved on since then, but we're hoping there's some kind of a base nearby that the Brotherhood is working out of."

"It's pretty cool," Scott says, one hand flat against the glass of the window as he looks out. Jean shrugs. Standing around here and waiting seems pretty boring to her.

"Where's Ororo?" she asks.

"She's hanging out with Iron Man in his lab," Scott says, still staring outside at the water below. They're passing over a shallow sandbar now, the water lightening to a shimmering pale turquoise. Jean wonders if they can land and go for a swim later if they don't find anything.

The side door to Fury's office opens and the Director himself enters to a shout of "officer on deck!" He nods to Steve and gives Jean and Scott a skeptical look before turning to one of the technicians working the radar controls. "Anything?"

"Nothing yet, sir, but we're seeing some unusual electronic readings near one of the uninhabited islands thirty klicks south southeast of here. Most likely a remote weather station, but we're enroute to investigate."

"Good. Carry on." Fury joins Steve at the observation window, watching as the helicarrier turns toward the south and heads out into the deeper water away from the large island.

Seeing Fury again reminds Jean of her telepathy practice last night. She glances at him sideways and cautiously tries opening up her mind. It's easier this time. She barely has to think about it and she can hear thoughts, like twisting a radio dial.

The technicians around them all have neat, orderly thoughts. Coordinates and status updates from the helicarrier's computers run through their minds as they read them from their screens. In contrast, Scott is a thrum of steady excitement, wondering what they'll find when they arrive at the secret base. Steve's thoughts are quieter and more vague, like he's centering himself.

Fury's thoughts are heavy and shaded just like they felt to her last night. Let us find something, he thinks. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can start mopping things up. Too many mutants and too many loose variables complicating our work. Most of them might not be able to do the same kind of damage as the Chitauri or the Asgard, but they're a homegrown threat. We have to find a way to detect them, anticipate the danger before it fully materializes…

"Director, sir?" one of the techs says. "You might want to look at this."

Fury goes over to do so, his thoughts shifting to rapid theorizing. They're getting a reading that shows large amounts of metal embedded inside one of a craggy unoccupied island they are rapidly approaching.

Fury is still standing with his head bowed conferring with the technician when a man at the back of the room stands up abruptly and shouts, "That's a heat signature—sir, we're being fired upon!"

"From where?" Fury shouts in response.

"The island, it's armed! Brace for impact!"

That's the last warning they get before the entire room shudders, a distant boom echoing through the bones of the ship. Jean grabs the handrail next to the window and Scott nearly falls over before Steve catches his arm to steady him.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Fury shouts. "Turn us around and hit them back with everything we've got!" The ship shakes again with another impact and Fury sits in a large command chair, buckling himself into the harness.

Steve kneels down and puts his hand on Jean's shoulder, pulling both her and Scott in close so they can hear him over the din of shouted orders and further explosions. "Get back to the berthing area and stay there," he says. He looks them both in the eye and squeezes their shoulders one more time before standing up and going to join Fury.

Jean moves to follow Steve's order, but the ship shakes under her feet and she stumbles down to her knees. She bumps into Scott as she falls and knocks him to the ground as well. "Ow."

"Sorry," she says.

"Sir, they're transmitting—"

"Let's hear it!" Fury snaps.

There's a crackle of static and a loud booming voice says, "—fallen into my trap and soon it will spell your doom, and the doom of all who sent you! Only fools would challenge the supremacy of Factor Three and… The Mutant Master!"

"That's enough," Fury snaps, and the voice is cut off mid-rant.

"That didn't sound like Erik," Jean says, whispering into Scott's ear.

"Well…" Scott says.

"It didn't," she says, glaring at him.

"It could be Mystique," Scott points out. "Or a recording."

"If it was, wouldn't he still say, 'it is I, Magneto'? You know, 'I am power' and that whole thing?"

Scott frowns, his forehead wrinkling as he considers this. "…maybe."

"Sir, the transmission—it's not coming from inside the base! He's broadcasting from somewhere else!"

"Track it down, then!" Fury shouts. He turns to direct the full strength of his one-eyed glare at the technician, who is now typing furiously.

"The signal is bouncing, hold on—it's coming in off a hijacked NATO communications satellite."

"Don't give me chase details, I want coordinates! Find him!"

Two other technicians run over to help and there's more manic typing. The front viewscreen changes from a radar image of the incoming missiles to a map of Europe crosshatched with white and yellow lines. The lines begin to converge on the Mediterranean and the map zooms in, narrowing in on an area off the coast of North Africa.

"It's Carcayú, sir!" one of the technicians shouts. "He's on Isla del Carcayú!"

There's a collective shout and burst of applause from the rest of the bridge, but the celebrations are quickly interrupted by another explosion as something crashes into the outside of the helicarrier. The collision is much stronger this time, like it's closer to the bridge or a much larger projectile than any of the previous impacts. Several techs fall over and Jean and Scott are sent sprawling onto their stomachs.

Fury alone seems unaffected by the tremor, barely shifting in his seat in response. "And where the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is Carcayú?"

"Only ten klicks east, sir," the first technician says. "It's another uninhabited island at the edge of the archipelago."

"Good work," Fury shouts. "Now get us out of here before we all have to learn to swim!"

The technicians return to their displays with renewed focus and soon new orders are being shouted as they struggle to get control over the besieged ship.

Jean realizes that now, while everyone is distracted, is their best chance to escape. She grabs Scott's shirt by the collar. "Come on," she hisses, dragging him after her as she crawls towards the door.

"What?" Scott asks, looking back over his shoulder nervously as they stumble to their feet and manage to dart around the corner out of view. "Our berth is back that way. Where are we going?"

"To get Ororo and Erik and get the heck outta here!"

Scott comes to a halt, making Jean come to a stop too, her hand jerking hard on the collar of his shirt. "What?" he says. "But the Brotherhood—"

"Scott, come on!" she says, throwing up her hands. "If the Mutant Master is Magneto, then how is he currently broadcasting from an island ten klicks away—however far that is?"

"Ten kilometers," Scott says. "And it's probably Mystique," he adds, starting to sound doubtful but still stubbornly sticking to his guns. "Or another trap."

"Why would Mystique be keeping up the Mutant Master charade if it was her? What's the point in pretending they're not the Brotherhood anymore? I think S.H.I.E.L.D. is wrong and Factor Three is not the same as the Brotherhood at all!" Jean pushes Scott a bit on the shoulder even though she already knows she has him convinced by the doubtful tone of his voice. "And even if it is a trap, who cares because it's most likely where the Professor and the others were taken!"

"Awwww—nuts!" Scott says. "You're right, but how are we going to get out of here?"

"First we have to find Ororo!"

They pass a soldier in the hall. He's running toward the bridge like he has a message, but he pauses when he sees Jean and Scott stumbling down the corridor. "Hey, what are you kids doing out here?"

"Uh…" Jean says. She really needs to get better at lying on the spot.

"Director Fury said we're not allowed on the bridge when S-H-I-T is happening," Scott explains.

"Oh," the soldier says. "Well—he's right! Get back to your berth!"

"Yes, sir!" Scott says, and he and Jean take off running before the soldier can change his mind.

Scott and Jean take the emergency stairs, which have all been unlocked thanks to the helicarrier's increasingly unstable flying. They figure that will make it harder for the ship to track their whereabouts, especially now that Jean knows the elevators can talk. Unfortunately, this means climbing down dozens of levels to get to Stark's lab where Ororo is. Scott swears he remembers what deck it's on from the map they saw earlier, but Jean has her doubts.

They're still only halfway there when a huge tremor sends them both flying sideways to smack into the side of the stairwell. Gravity shifts and Jean falls over when she tries to climb back to her feet. It feels like the ship is listing sideways. Did they take out one of the engines?

"Jean," Scott says. "I think we might be crashing."

"Gosh, you think?"

"I hate swimming," Scott says, ignoring her sarcasm and looking glum as he gets to his feet.

"Just hold onto your glasses if we fall into the ocean, okay?" Jean says and Scott nods.

"I think we might need to find a life raft or something and get out of here," he says.

"What about Ororo?" Jean asks.

"She's with Iron Man, I'm sure she'll be fine."

Jean wants to argue, but Scott is already pulling himself out of the staircase and into the corridor on level 27. Thankfully, there are handrails along most of the walls here that they can use to pull themselves along. They might be able to help Erik escape if they could find the brig, but that must be dozens and dozens of decks below them.

A few soldiers pass them in the hallways, but most of them seem too busy to bother stopping Scott and Jean. One woman curses when she seems them, but all she does is pull out two life jackets from a hatch in the wall and snap, "Put these on!" Jean barely has hers on over her head before the woman is gone, running down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

The life jackets give them some extra padding, which helps with the continued rumbles and shudders as the helicarrier struggles to stay aloft. Jean bounces off a wall as Scott leads her around another twist in the corridor. She's pretty sure that Scott is lost but doesn't want to say anything since she has no idea where they are either.

They come to a three-pronged split in the hallway and stop, unable to decide which path to take. It's starting to get hazy and there's an acidic burning smell in the air. Every corridor is equally smoky and they hesitate for long agonizing seconds trying to decide which way to go. Just then, a door next to them malfunctions and unlatches with a sharp click. It opens into a new corridor that is considerably clearer and they stumble through and close the door behind them.

Jean coughs into her hand, trying to breathe now that they're out of the smoke-filled hallways. "Where should we—"

Another tremor sends them both stumbling to the left and thudding against each other. This time the tremor continues, growing louder and accompanied by the sound of twisting metal. Is the deck buckling under their feet?

A painfully loud metallic screech rends the air and the wall in front of them splits apart like it's being torn open by a can opener. Jean ducks down and covers her head, bracing for the ceiling to fall on top of them.

But instead of collapsing, the trembling in the floor stops and Jean feels a cool breeze and the warmth of sunshine on her face. She raises her head cautiously. Torn petals of metal are bent outward, creating an opening in the deck through several layers of shielding and insulation. The jagged hole perfectly frames a figure outside, suspended in midair with him arms extended. The figure is hard to see in the glare of bright light, but it's wearing a very familiar-shaped helmet and cape.

"…Erik?" Jean says.

"Hi, kids," Erik says. "Come on, we need to go. Now."

Jean and Scott walk carefully out across the jagged metal and step onto a large flat disk Erik has maneuvered next to the deck for them. He guides the disk away from the ship once they're both safely onboard, lifting them up and away from the helicarrier like a flying metal carpet. From outside, the helicarrier looks much the worse for wear. One of the engines appears to be on fire and there are large holes and scorch marks all along the hull.

"You're not the Mutant Master?" Scott asks.

"That's what I told you, isn't it?" Erik says, sounding annoyed. Now that Jean's eyes have adjusted to the light she can see that his helmet and uniform was created entirely from scrap metal, including the loose hanging cape, which is made from hundreds of tiny linked rings.

"Sorry about that," Jean says. "It did look pretty bad." She squints, trying to get a glimpse of his thoughts.

"This is why you should never trust humans above your fellow mutants," Erik says. This is what comes of Charles' integrationist philosophy teaching them to trust superheroes above their own blood. Lucky they didn't get dissected or shot on sight. At least the human fools brought us straight to Factor Three's lair.

Jean glances sideways at Scott and nods at him. "It's okay," she whispers. "I think we can trust him."

Scott doesn't look fully convinced, but that might just be the strain of holding onto the edges of the metal disk. It's not the most comfortable way to travel.

Erik raises his arms and they rise up higher in the air. "Where's Ororo?" he asks.

"We're… not sure," Jean says.

"You were separated?" Erik asks, his voice rising. "Never let them separate you."

"It was a mistake," Scott says, looking back at the helicarrier, which is now circling precariously close to the blue water below.

"I don't sense her or anything she was carrying nearby," Erik says. "Let's hope she's all right, wherever she is."

"She was with Iron Man," Scott points out.

"Maybe they evacuated already?" Jean suggests.

"Hmph," Erik says. He looks like he's going to continue to lecture them, but something flies toward them from out of the glare of the sun. Erik throws up his arm and the small projectile veers off-course and drops down to the ocean where it lands with a splash. "What?"

A large human figure swoops toward them from the helicarrier while Erik is distracted, rushing up with a whoosh of loud engines. "Let the kids go," a distorted voice says, one arm extended and bristling with weapons. It's Iron Man, but not in his familiar shiny red and gold suit. This one is a dull textured grey color and it's covered in chalk markings like Stark was still engineering it.

"What, you want me to drop them in the ocean?" Erik asks, nodding toward Scott and Jean. "We don't have time for this."

"Hi, kids," Iron Man says, waving to them before he turns back to Erik. "What I want is for you to leave them alone." One of the missiles on his suit is starting to flash red with increasing urgency.

"Where's Ororo?" Jean asks, shouting at Iron Man, but he ignores her in favor of moving to get a better angle on Erik.

Erik tilts his head, his eyes flicking up and down Iron Man's body through the slit in his helmet. "Interesting suit."

"Thanks!" Iron Man says. "It's constructed from carbon nanotubes. Very strong and very nonmetallic."

"Hm," Erik says. He closes one hand into a fist and Iron Man's arm jerks downward with a sharp involuntary motion. "Not completely it seems."

"What?"

Erik twists his fist and Iron Man flips on his head, turning upside down in a helpless somersault. "Hey, no fair!" he shouts as a shower of sparks rises out from the neck of him suit. "Copper is nonferrous!"

"My power isn't simply ferrokinesis," Erik explains. "It's electromagnetism."

"Well, nuts."

Erik flicks his finger and Iron Man tumbles away to land into the ocean with a splash.

"That was mean," Jean says.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Erik says dismissively. "He's supposedly a genius. Surely he has an emergency eject system in case of a water landing."

The fight with Iron Man has brought them much closer to the slumping helicarrier. Jean can see S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel on the deck running back and forth trying to put out fires and tie down equipment. Their efforts don't seem to be doing much good as the ship continues its slow out-of-control descent down toward the water.

They're close enough to shout and Jean cups her hands around her face, intending to ask if anyone on deck has seen Ororo. But before she can get out a word, there's a loud thump and the floating disk nearly tips over sideways. Jean and Scott both scramble to get a grip as Erik raises his hands to stabilize them. The source of the disturbance is soon clear as a man pulls himself up from the edge. He must have jumped across from the side of the helicarrier.

"Captain America?" Scott asks as Jean says, "Steve?"

"Hi, kids," Steve says, turning to face Erik and standing so the two of them are at his back. He holds his shield up in front of him, although it can't be much protection against Erik's powers.

"Have you seen Ororo?" Scott asks.

"No, but I think Natasha has her. She'll be fine," Steve says, still squaring off against Erik.

"I have no desire to hurt you," Erik says. "I simply wish to escape with all of the children under my charge."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen," Steve says.

Erik sighs and waves one hand. Steve's shield is wrenched from his grasp. It flies up into the air and falls away in a long arc. "Go back to the ship," Erik says. "Save your compatriots."

"No," Steve says. He raises his hands, making two fists like he intends to fight Erik barehanded.

Erik sighs again. "They're mutants, they're perfectly safe with me. Can you say the same about your own commanders?"

Steve tenses and clenches his fists. "Of course, what are you saying?"

Erik's eyes dart over to where Jean and Scott are standing before returning to Steve's face. "You asked where I met you as a boy?"

"What?" Steve asks, clearly not following this conversational twist.

"Bergen-Belsen," Erik says. Scott turns to look at Jean and she shrugs.

"What? What are you—" Steve breaks off, making a startled choking noise. "What are you saying?"

"You want proof?" Erik asks, his voice rising in anger as he lifts his arm and starts peeling off the metal coating his forearm. He starts to push it up like a sleeve, but Steve waves his arms to stop him.

"No, no," he shouts. "That's not—look, that doesn't mean... I still can't let you leave with these kids."

Erik lifts his chin, staring down at him through his eye slits. "And I can't leave the children with you."

Steve pauses, and Jean can see the side of his jaw clenching. "They'll be safe. S.H.I.E.L.D. won't hurt them, I give you my word."

Erik shakes his head. "You're only a soldier, you can't promise that."

"I can! I am!" Steve says, holding out his hands. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would never detain children."

That jolts Jean's memory, making her straighten up and call out, "Then why was Fury thinking about sending us to the Vault?"

"What?" Steve turns toward her, his eyes wide. "That's not—they'd never do that!"

"I heard him thinking it!" Jean says. "It's a prison for mutants, isn't it?"

"No, it's—" Steve pauses, wetting his lips. "It's not just for mutants. It's for any powered criminals." He turns toward Erik and gestures toward him. "Most of the people there are neo-Hydra! They wouldn't put kids in there."

Erik shakes his head. "The question isn't, would they? The question is—are you going to let them?"

Steve stares back at him, his hands held up in a defensive pose as he considers Erik's words. He lets out a long, slow exhale and his shoulders slump as he drops his arms. "Darn it!" he says. "No! Fine. Get out of here before I change my mind!"

Erik smiles in response.

"Darn it!" Steve says again, turning toward Jean and Scott. "Stay safe," he says, hesitating for a moment before he dashes toward the edge of the disk and leaps off the side. He twists through the air and crashes onto the helicarrier deck below with a painful-looking roll.

"Okay," Erik says. "Let's get out of here before another Avenger jumps on board." He motions with his arms and the disk rotates. They turn away from the dismal scene of the flagging helicarrier and toward a tall ridge of rock sticking out of the ocean, approximately a half-mile away. It looks like a pointed row of spines, as if it's the top of some sleeping creature waiting down beneath the waves.

The island looms larger as Erik floats them toward it above the pounding surf. There's smoke coming from several points on the ridge where the helicarrier must have destroyed the island's defenses. If any weapons remain, nothing attempts to attack them as Erik lowers them down to land on a stony black beach of sharp volcanic rock. It's quiet there after the chaos of the helicarrier, nothing but the churning waves and the sound of sea birds.