The creator sat back, grinning and wetting his purple lips. Everything was going to plan; Tamworth, where his robotic creation, the self-named Ultron, was rising to power, and Stonebridge, where his daughters had divided and conquered. He did not approve of Peter Quill, however; he'd have to die before the wheels of his plan could move. As for the Lehnsherr inhabitants? They would not pose much of a problem, especially if he could turn the Wakanda family against them. He knew that T'Challa had entered the house, and hoped that it ended in violence; the Lehnsherr, Maximoff, whatever title they had been going by, children wouldn't stand a chance.
He had wanted to keep the adults, but the mysterious mutant, who he could not reach, still sat outside the dome, unable or unwilling to enter. He was irritating the creator; even now, as the students turned eighteen, they would be removed. The creator assumed they were being moved to outside his range; outside the dome.
Meanwhile in Stonebridge, Peter Quill and Gamora had worked together to unite the remaining people in the town. They wanted to explore, to reach out to Tamworth, and the creator hoped that would happen. It would be... interesting, to say the least.
As he pondered this, he returned to observing the Lehnsherr house. Now, the real fun began.
The dark character stood, his head now noticeably turned to Tony, whom collapsed to the floor, gripping his temples and writhing with agony. The others were unable to decide between helping him and fleeing the house.
Inside Tony's head, a memory was reenacted.
The memory was dark, with fear tinging the edges. He remembered this room; the dark, high windows, made with expensive timber from some far-off country. There were delicate lights decorating the walls and rain was pouring outside, making what should have been a relaxing noise.
He was standing in the workshop of his large house, arguing with his father. He didn't know what the argument was about, but it was violent, his father having removed his glasses and given Tony a near broken cheekbone. His face stung, and as his father was striding towards him as he desperately staggered to his feet.
Tony's fingers began to tingle oddly, an uncommon sensation. There was a prickly heat, not unlike the after affects of sunburn. He had extended a hand out in front of him, desperately pleading with his father not to lay another blow on him, when Howard Stark had fallen down and not risen again.
The flesh on the left side of his face and throat had been singed to the point of melting, forming a goo-like liquid. He was paralysed with pain, and lay there, Tony watching, his fear for his father replaced with fear for himself. His hands glowed slightly, a pale blue light, in highest concentration around his palms. He also had a faint blue glow in an odd pattern across his chest, but it faded quickly, soon enough for his often frail, distant mother to appear and take her dying husband into her arms.
Howard Stark did not die that night, and after an excessive amount of lifesaving and then cosmetic surgery, returned to work and home. However, he had not laid a hand on Tony since. Instead, the teenager had been left with more money than he knew what to do with. Howard and Tony had been speaking by email, discussing things like school. Howard had held Tony at a safe distance ever since.
The others saw this, too, even if their heads weren't hurting as much as Tony's.
Steve looked up at the dark-clad intruder, who he thought was no doubt responsible for the vision.
"Now do you see?" The intruder's voice was deep and even. "This dome, if i may, was far from an accident, much like your mutations."
"What are you saying?" Steve spoke after the moment of shock had receded.
"What I am saying is, none of this is an accident. Many of you were already mutants, the mutations were just not active. There is a controller, a creator, and he is manipulating the events that we will watch unfold. For example, their supposedly new mutations." He gestured a dark paw towards Pietro and Wanda.
"Who are you, and how would you know?" Tony groaned from the floor where Steve supported him. Clint smirked; that looked interesting, he thought.
"My name is T'Challa, and Charles Xavier has sent me." The dark figure pulled back his mask and revealed sharp, angular cheekbones with large, dark eyes. "The outsider, who is a telepath, has been communicating with me. He is responsible for the removal of those above a certain age, and knows what the creator's plan is. In order to fight back, we all must work together."
"Well, you don't seem to be working by yourself." Steve commented, still not trusting. He appeared to be the only person in the room willing to respond.
"I am the head of the Wakanda family, a large group of relatives disconnected from your modern world. We all know how to hunt and fight, and there are many of us. As I speak, Shuri and Bashenga ride for Stonebridge, where they will meet with a man called Peter Quill."
"And Charles Xavier told you this?" Pietro asked incredulously. "Prove it, then. Tell us something only our father would know; he's Charles's closest friend."
T'Challa was silent for a moment, presumably sending thoughts to Charles. He then opened his eyes, fixed them on Pietro and spoke. "You and Wanda used to be each other's only friends, and were never a moment apart. You were bullied by a boy nicknamed Strucker in your first year of secondary school, and he only stopped when Wanda manipulated his mind. She didn't even know she was doing it. Charles and Erik manipulated your memories so that you wouldn't have the pressure of knowing about your abilities until later in life."
"Well, I trust him." Pietro said instantly. It had all been true.
Slowly, the others ventured their trust forwards, and Steve confirmed it.
"Well, I guess we're all on board. Where do we start?"
End of Part One
A/N: Man I'm excited to start work on the next part! Thankyou to everyone who was watched, read and reviewed the story so far! It's only going to get better from here :D