Moira frowns at dozens of boards plastered in maps and blueprints overlapped with pencil and ink. Narrow fingers reach out to hastily cross Charles off and scrawl his name at a better vantage point. Leaning back, perched on a sturdy desk, the agent scans over every marked position and location.
This has to be perfect. She reiterates.
Charles called her last night to provide an update on Kaeha's restrained meltdown. Moira didn't have the luxury to seethe in rage at what her friend endured. Instead, she channeled her anger to purpose and rallied her comrades. It took long-winded calls, heavy cussing, endless meetings and telepathic discussions to form the current plan of action.
Flurries of noise and movement echo behind her. Mobilized agents are assembling into the formations she designed and strapping on weapons. Charles and the others have boarded a jet and already crossed the US border.
Everything is falling into place but Moira still frets. There's far too much at stake. She refuses to cause Kaeha's failure in saving her mother within the small window of opportunity.
Small. Her mind echoes, tamping down exhaustion creeping in from the end of her caffeine high.
Dark irises hunt for weaknesses only to get listless when her search turns up empty. A gentle brush against her mind diverts her attention and Moira nearly laughs at a following burst of soothing energy. Sliding off of the desk, she exits the room and heads up to the landing area to welcome her friends.
Charles smiles sheepishly and checks to see if he overstepped a line. Kaeha merely waits for Moira's inevitable approval with an arched eyebrow. She tilts her head in a subtle nod and they relax.
Tight smiles flash around the group before Moira directs them to their stations. Kaeha lags behind until they are left alone. Moira instantly steps forward to encompass the energy mutant in a firm embrace. Kaeha doesn't gratefully melt into muscled limbs or stiffly hug her back despite expecting the gesture.
Calloused palms merely squeeze Moira's shoulders once in a quiet I understand; thank you. A few beats later and the duo disengage. Moira feels more focused now after satisfying the emotional need to comfort. Snapping back into the zone, she rattles off the outline of their plan and highlights the specific route Kaeha will have to take.
Moira never took to Emma but is beyond grateful at receiving such vital information from her. Killian Aldaine spared no cost in ensuring this particular laboratory is secure. There's a labyrinth that spans multiple levels underground to separate the experimentation floor from the special anti-telepathic cell Kaeha's mother is held in.
Aldaine hired multitudes of people to construct each complex layer. This was to ensure only he was aware of the full layout, the hired builders granted a mere miniscule piece to the entire puzzle. It would have taken ages to retrieve each tiny fragment. Thus, with classified blueprints Moira filched and information from Killian's memories, it's nearly impossible to fail.
"The agents are entering in four waves - each containing thirteen soldiers. Azazel will accompany the second heading north. Emma, with Hank and Sean, will storm the west side. Hank will get the mutation suppressants offline while Alex and Janos take the east side with the final wave. Charles and I will be on the border as a backup squad. Between him and Emma, you shouldn't have any troubles." She explains.
Moira expects questions only to receive a terse nod. Kaeha's infallible trust bolsters the agent's confidence. They part to board their respective vehicles and she pauses to watch Kaeha explain the elaborate route to Erik before climbing into the military-grade jeep. Concern would be eating her away if anyone else was accompanying the brunette in.
"If its Erik, it will be okay." She mutters under her breath, remembering the scant few times she watched them train together.
Invisible fingers touch the edges of her mind in a familiar gesture. She flashes a watery smile at Charles before burying the gnawing apprehension. Barking a sharp command to move, the vehicle rumbles forward. Slender fingers fiddle with the gun holstered against her hip as Moira grimly stares out the window.
It has to be okay.
An insistent migraine pounds away at his temples as Charles stretches his telepathy further and further. Bright flares of hostile minds disappear as he extinguishes them in fast, merciful strokes. He had expected resistance but never this staggering amount.
Frustration tries to cloud his focus when Charles is mentally shoved away from suppressant-guarded minds with jarring force.
No, concentrate. He reminds himself for the umpteenth time.
This wouldn't be a problem. Charles has yet to receive a complaint from Azazel whom entered nearly fifteen minutes ago. He catches a wordless reassurance from Hank before his calm, organized mind steps into the facility compound and morphs into an offensive, instinct-driven space.
Charles has one less worry now. Alex is barging in minutes later and elation sings through his veins when everyone steadily advances. Air rushes out of his lungs when a plethora of jittery minds abruptly flood his senses.
It takes him a moment to realize Hank succeeded in frying the computer-operated devices. A heavy portion quickly flickers out when Emma's signature winter chill sweeps by. Hastily joining the telepathic fray, Charles sets to monitoring and disarming all incoming enemies. Emma greatly eases the taxing effort by sweeping icy tendrils across unsuspecting minds.
Left with only keeping telepathic fingers on half of the diminishing population, he sends a quick All clear to Kaeha. Acknowledgement surges through their bond before the tether snaps off and Charles is forced to linger around the outskirts of her mind.
Both Kaeha and Erik had declined to be included into the telepathic link strung through everyone's mind. As comforting as the mental presence would be, they preferred the crystal clear clarity from an empty mind. Initially, Charles worried over it.
The duo only had a week of training between them which was surely an inadequate time frame to form a solid partnership. Coupled by the fact that Kaeha wouldn't be utilizing her unique telepathy, instincts alone as an insight on their partner's next move or thought seemed risky.
Now, Charles wonders what on Earth was he thinking. Their minds are compatible cogs that churn a unified machine. If an enemy is approaching Kaeha from her blind spot, a dart backwards and Erik's there to send the soldier sprawling to the floor. If someone tries to swing a kick at Erik's head, Kaeha is already twisting his ankle and electrocuting the man unconscious. They move in perfectly harmonized sync.
Brushing aside his pride at the breathless display of skill, Charles hounds their minds down twisted corridors and dark hallways. Teeth grind when his telepathy starts to wither as they run deeper in. It must be another form of a telepathic inhibitor that makes Charles's head ache.
This is as far as I can go. Charles projects to Kaeha, agitation underlying his words.
Her mind is now a small flickering flame in comparison to the usual bonfire of warmth and blazing light. The thin telepathic thread bridging their minds is splintered and nearly shattered. A flare of calm energy reins in his roiling anxiety and the telepath's erratic heartbeat calms down. Inhaling deeply, he gently touches her mind to pass a message.
Stay safe, my friend; both of you. He thickly murmurs.
We will. She confidently assures.
Then, her mind disappears into a dark void Charles can't breach no matter how hard he tries.
Fingers reach down towards her thigh to curl around the protruding hilt. Gritting her teeth, Kaeha yanks firmly and the blade slides out in a bloody mess. The energy mutant barely notices, wide-eyed gaze fixed upon looming titanium doors.
Erik is the only bright spark in her suddenly bleak world. He makes a swift round to check pulse points of every body littering the floor, ensuring they stay there. Only his steady presence prevents her from hyperventilating as her vision morphs into a narrow tunnel. Her heart squeezes painfully beneath her ribcage and Kaeha can't find the courage to move.
She flinches in surprise when a calloused hand gently overlays hers. Bronzed fingers spring apart and the knife finally clatters to the floor. The resounding noise forces air into her lungs and she finally turns her gaze away. Erik continues to emit calming waves of assurance beneath the carefully contained rage that always drives him.
"What are you afraid of?" He questions, more curious than condescending and patient when she fails to speak a few times.
"I - what if I'm too late? What if the person in there isn't my mother but a shell? How do I bear that?" She chokes out, voice cracking at the end.
"Because a shell is better than a dead parent; because she has a chance of healing and returning to her former glory. If she's your mother, she'll be okay." Erik quietly states.
This is entirely your call. He projects into her mind for the first time.
Swallowing nervously, Kaeha locks away the irrational fears that haunted her nights. There's only one true way to completely erase them from existence: opening the locked doors. Her hand trembles once before stilling when her palm presses against cool metal. A wave of energy pulses across the surface before returning to her palm. Every microscopic bond connecting each atom of metal is revealed in her mind like an unfurled map.
"I'll help." Erik murmurs, stepping into place beside her with his own pale hand next to hers.
Kaeha nods and stretches out her powers, invisible fingers coiling around thrumming threads before slowly snapping them apart. Instead of easily shattering the metal door, Erik urges the quivering platinum to surrender and disassociate under her command.
Kaeha doesn't feel the usual strain from exercising her powers to such a complex level with Erik's help. Metal dissolves into fine silvery dust that dances through the air and settles on concrete floor. Darting a hesitant look at Erik, who tilts his head towards the dark abyss, Kaeha takes one cautious step forward.
She reels back instantly when a familiar surge of energy floods her alert sensors. It's weakened but unmistakable. After all, Kaeha spent years with that energy imprint until she knows every little spike and dip like the back of her hand.
"Mama?"
Author Mini Rant:
I am outrageously sorry for how long this took to put out. A mental block made the previous four drafts utterly awful. Fifth time's the charm, eh? *laughs sheepishly*
Anyway, last few chapters to go and hopefully the next update will be faster. Thanks so much for your reviews, follows and favorites. C':