AN: This What If? Is a continuation of the previous one. Instead of forcing Azazel to flee, and fighting Magneto to a draw… Tyson managed to kill Azazel and Magneto, absorbing their life force completely and gaining all their magical and mutant abilities. Tyson has continued working on Magneto's machine and directing Mystique and Toad, while primarily living at the Xavier's Institute like a normal student.
Chapter 2x: What If?
Date: Thursday, July 15, 2010.
Location: Xavier Institute, Scarsdale, NY
Tyson reclined comfortably, his eyes closed, as if the weight of the world never touched his shoulders. Illyana lay nearby on the bed. Wrapped in a sheet that hinted at the activities they had just enjoyed, her golden hair spread out like a halo around her head. The air in the room was still but held the scent of their earlier activities. Illyana's piercing blue eyes occasionally flickered toward Tyson, full of an intensity that spoke of more than just physical attraction.
The room itself was simple yet elegant, adorned with minimalistic furniture that served more for function than fashion. A television in the corner played at low volume, casting flickering lights across the room. The relaxation was shattered by a newscast on the television. A mutant had attacked the White House. Tyson's eyes snapped open, his relaxed posture instantly giving way to alertness. The nanometer-thick metal barriers around his skin, which allowed him to touch others without causing harm, shimmered briefly as he tensed.
Illyana sat up, the sheet slipping slightly as she turned to look at the screen. "What's happening?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
Tyson didn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on the television. The newscaster's voice was a distant echo as he processed the images flashing across the screen. "An attack... at the White House," he finally said.
Illyana moved closer to him, her eyes narrowing as she watched the chaos unfold on the screen. "Do you think this will lead back to the institute?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.
Tyson was about to reply, but then he saw the clip of a figure, his blue skin disappearing in puffs of smoke. It stirred memories from his past life, causing Tyson to stand up, "Yes. They're coming. We need to be prepared."
Illyana followed suit, standing up and wrapping a towel securely around herself. Her belief in Tyson was unquestionable. "What's our move?" she asked her tone now all business.
"We need to gather everyone. Ensure the safety of the students," Tyson said, already heading towards the door. "This will escalate quickly. We can't take any chances."
Illyana nodded, a fierce determination lighting up her features. "I'll alert Jean and my brother. We'll start preparations."
Urgency filled the air in Xavier's Institute. Tyson stood overseeing the evacuation operation. Beside him, Illyana Rasputin conjured a shimmering portal to Limbo. Magic energy crackled around her.
"Is this the best way?" Colossus's voice carried a mix of concern and resolve. His gaze remained fixed on the portal.
"It's the safest option," Tyson affirmed, his tone steady. He watched the portal stabilize, a passage to safety now open.
Jean Grey, Jubilee, and Bobby Drake were quickly organizing the students. Jean used her telepathic powers to soothe the anxious young mutants. "Stay calm and follow us," Jean's gentle telepathic message reached each student. "We're in this together."
Jubilee darted around using her sparkling powers to provide a distraction. Bobby transformed his arm into ice and crafted small figures to amuse the children. "No worries, everyone," he assured, his demeanor light and comforting. "We've got you covered."
Students and staff lined up for the portal. Tyson's watchful eye made sure no one was overlooked. The portal, a mesmerizing dance of light, was their escape route. The evacuation moved swiftly with the efforts of the X-Men to maintain order.
Jean continued her telepathic support, calming a particularly scared young mutant. "You're doing wonderfully," she reassured.
Jubilee guided a group of younger ones. "Think of it as an adventure to a secret place!" she said, trying to keep spirits high.
Bobby's ice sculptures brought smiles amid worry. "Who knew an evacuation drill could be this 'cool'?" he quipped, lightening the mood.
As the final students entered the portal, Tyson shared a meaningful glance with Illyana. "Make sure they're safe," he instructed firmly. "We have to protect the next generation."
Illyana nodded seriously. "I will," she said, stepping through the portal, which then closed, leaving Tyson alone.
With the students secure, an eerie silence fell over the institute. Tyson, now solitary, prepared for what was to come. "Now it's just us," he muttered to himself, a sense of readiness in his stance. "Time to defend our home."
In the quiet of the institute, Tyson stood ready, the sole defender of the mansion, poised for the conflict ahead.
~~ Rogue Replacement ~~
Outside, the first wave of soldiers crept closer, unaware of the defense awaiting them. Tyson's eyes narrowed as he focused on the intruders. With Azazel's teleportation ability at his command, Tyson vanished from the spot, reappearing behind the first soldier who breached the mansion. In a flash, he teleported them both to Limbo, near where Illyana, Bobby, Jean, Jubilee, and John were gathered.
Illyana looked up, startled, as Tyson and the soldier appeared. Bobby raised an ice wall instinctively. Jean and John stood ready, while Jubilee's eyes widened in surprise. Using Magneto's power, Tyson effortlessly disarmed the soldier, floating his tranquilizer gun over to Jubilee. She caught it, looking at Tyson questioningly.
"It's just like one of your games," Tyson said calmly, a hint of encouragement in his voice.
Jubilee, understanding, aimed and fired the tranquilizer at the soldier, knocking him out cold. She gave a small, triumphant smile, and Tyson nodded in approval. "Stay alert," He warned the group before vanishing again to the institute.
Back at the mansion, Tyson reappeared. He moved with precision, using Azazel's power to teleport behind soldiers silently, one by one. Each time, he disarmed them using Magneto's ability and teleported them to Limbo, where Jubilee, with newfound confidence, handled them.
The soldiers, confused and disoriented, couldn't understand what was happening. They whispered to each other, fear creeping into their voices. "What's going on?" one soldier muttered, looking around nervously.
Another soldier, trying to rally his comrades, said, "Stay focused, they can't be everywhere at once!"
But Tyson was always one step ahead. He appeared and disappeared like a phantom, each appearance taking another soldier out of the equation. The mansion seemed to swallow the invaders, leaving no trace. Outside, the remaining soldiers hesitated, sensing something was amiss. "Report, what's happening in there?" a commander shouted into his radio, but there was no reply.
Inside, Tyson's expression remained focused, though he felt a slight sense of satisfaction in his tactics. He knew the element of surprise was on his side. Each teleportation, each silent takedown, further demoralized the invading force.
In Limbo, Jubilee's grip on the tranquilizer gun steadied as she grew more accustomed to its weight and feel. John and Bobby worked swiftly, securing the unconscious soldiers with efficiency. Illyana sensed Tyson's intermittent presence as he flickered between their safe haven and the mansion.
Back at the Institute, a tense, heavy atmosphere enveloped the space. William Stryker, driven by impatience and desperation, deployed one of his unique assets; five identical blonde psychics. They moved with an unsettling synchrony, their shared blue eyes casting an almost eerie glow in the dimly lit corridors. Their task was to utilize their collective psychic prowess to unravel the Institute's defenses. Standing in a tight circle, they touched hands and closed their eyes, extending their consciousness into the mansion.
The blondes' faces remained expressionless, yet their furrowed brows indicated a growing frustration.
"We found nothing," they spoke in unison, their voices eerily harmonizing, sending shivers down the spines of the soldiers.
"No mental signatures," the first continued.
"No thoughts," the second added.
"It's as if those who entered," the third chimed in.
"Have simply vanished," the fourth concluded.
The final blonde remained silent, her eyes opening first, reflecting a deep, unsettling void.
Unease rippled through the soldiers as they absorbed the gravity of the situation. The commander, trying to mask his apprehension, ordered, "Keep searching."
Again, the blondes closed their eyes. They searched for minutes, until finally they broke their circle, their shared expression one of bewilderment and unease. "We cannot find them," they intoned together.
"They evade us," the first said.
"As though they're shadows," the second added.
"Whispers in the dark," the third continued.
"Unseen," the fourth echoed.
"And untouchable," the fifth concluded, her gaze distant and haunted.
A chill settled over the soldiers as they processed the revelation. Tyson had transcended the role of a mere defender; he had become a ghost within the walls of his stronghold. The unease among the soldiers grew as they contemplated the unseen threat within the mansion. Tyson, with his ghost-like presence, had escalated the stakes, transforming the battlefield into a realm of shadows and whispers.
William Stryker was determined to counter this invisible menace. He ordered the five identical blondes into the mansion, accompanied by the formidable Omega Red. The blondes, with their eerie, synchronized movements, advanced cautiously, their eyes scanning the silent halls. Omega Red, his metallic tendrils coiling and uncoiling with a life of their own, led the way.
Tyson perched in the shadows observing their approach. His enhanced senses, a blend of Sabretooth's keen perception and Magneto's acute awareness of metal, easily detected the unique signature of Omega Red's carbonadium tendrils. Protected by Magneto's helmet, he remained undetected by the psychic probes of the blondes. He waited for the opportune moment.
As the group navigated the dimly lit corridors, Tyson sprang into action. In a blink, he teleported behind the first blonde, whisking her away before anyone could react. Omega Red whirled around, his tendrils lashing out, but they struck only air. The remaining blondes froze, their collective mind momentarily fractured by the sudden disappearance of their sister.
"Where did she go?" one whispered, her voice a tremulous echo in the vastness of the hall.
"We must stay together," another insisted, her eyes darting around, seeking the unseen threat.
Before they could regroup, Tyson struck again. Another blonde vanished in a blur of motion. The remaining three clustered closer, their faces etched with fear and confusion.
Omega Red growled a deep, rumbling sound that filled the corridor. "Stay close," he ordered, his voice a low snarl. "He's picking us off one by one."
But his warning came too late. Tyson continued his silent assault. Each blonde was carefully teleported away, their collective strength diminishing with each loss.
In the seclusion of Magneto's old base, Tyson secured each blonde in a separate cell. Isolated, their collective power was rendered ineffective. They could do nothing but await their fate.
Back at the mansion, Omega Red stood alone, the last of the group still standing. His tendrils whipped furiously around him, a tangible expression of his frustration and rage. "He's toying with us," he hissed, his voice a blend of anger and a grudging respect for his unseen adversary.
Then, without warning, Tyson appeared before him. Omega Red's reflexes kicked in; his tendrils lashed out with deadly precision, but Tyson, with the agility and unpredictability lent to him by Azazel's powers, teleported around the room, evading every strike with almost casual ease.
Omega Red, frustrated and outmatched, growled in anger. But before he could renew his attack, Tyson acted. Using Magneto's mastery over metal, he effortlessly restrained the formidable Russian mutant. The carbonadium tendrils hung limply, controlled by Tyson's will.
Omega Red was left trapped and powerless, facing Tyson with a mixture of fury and despair. "What do you want from me?" he snarled, his eyes burning with defiance.
Tyson presented his ultimatum. "You have two choices, Omega Red. Serve me, or I'll rip the carbonadium from your body. Choose wisely."
The threat hung in the air, palpable and menacing. Omega Red weighed his survival against his loyalty. The seconds stretched on, filled with tension. Finally, with a heavy, resigned sigh, Omega Red nodded. "Alright, I'll do it. I'll join you," he muttered, his voice a mix of anger and defeat.
Tyson, satisfied with the response, released his control over the tendrils. "Good choice," he said.
He teleported them to a cell within Magneto's base, Tyson faced Omega Red, the formidable mutant now temporarily an ally. After releasing his control over the metal tendrils, Tyson's voice was calm but carried an unmistakable warning. "You can likely escape this cell," he said, his eyes locked on Omega Red's. "But if you do, I'll kill you."
Omega Red nodded slowly, his expression a mix of anger and resignation. Tyson's threat was clear, and the consequences were undeniable. With that, Tyson teleported away, leaving Omega Red to contemplate his situation in solitude.
Back at the mansion, the situation escalated. Stryker, oblivious to the changing tides within, ordered a full assault. His forces, armed and ready, advanced on the school. But they were walking into a trap.
As the invaders approached, Tyson used his control over metal to manipulate their own weaponry against them. Guns twisted and bent out of shape, tanks and armored vehicles crumpled like paper, their metal hulls turning against them. The air was filled with the sounds of warping metal and the shouts of men caught in the chaos. The battlefield became a spectacle of devastation. Stryker's forces, once confident in their strength, now faced catastrophic losses. The might of Magneto's power, wielded by Tyson, was too much for them. Soldiers scattered, trying to escape the relentless assault.
Amid this chaos, Stryker realized the battle was lost, and attempted to flee. His expression was one of defeat and fear, a stark contrast to the commanding figure he had been at the start of the assault. But, Tyson, using Azazel's teleportation ability, captured Stryker effortlessly. One moment, Stryker was running towards an escape vehicle; the next, he was facing Tyson, the teleportation so swift it left no room for resistance.
With Stryker now in his grasp, Tyson used Rogue's power absorption ability. He wrapped his hand around Stryker's neck. Memories, thoughts, and plans flowed into him. Images and information swirled in Tyson's mind. He learned the location of Stryker's base at Alkali Lake, the layout of the facility, and the revelation of a significant reserve of adamantium.
Stryker, his mind laid bare, slumped in defeat. Tyson looked down at him. The balance of power had shifted dramatically. The knowledge gleaned from Stryker's mind opened new possibilities.
~~ Rogue Replacement ~~
Tyson's gaze fixed on the team he was leaving behind. Jean Grey, Jubilee, Bobby Drake, and Illyana Rasputin gathered around him. The room was heavy with the seriousness of the moment.
"Your job is to protect the students," Tyson said, his voice steady and commanding. His eyes briefly met each of theirs, conveying trust and responsibility. Jean nodded, "We won't let you down," she assured him.
Jubilee cracked her knuckles, "You can count on us, Tyson. We'll keep the mansion safe," she said, her usual playful demeanor replaced with a seriousness befitting the situation. Sparks of energy danced around her fingers.
Illyana looked at Tyson with concern. "Where are you going?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. Her blonde hair fell softly around her face, framing her questioning eyes.
Tyson turned to her, "I'm going to make sure Stryker's organization is under control," he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "They won't be a bother in the future."
Tyson's appearance transformed, assuming the guise of Omega Red. His stature became more imposing, his skin taking on a pale hue, and his hair turning a stark white. Azazel's shapeshifting power allowed him to perfectly mimic the fearsome mutant. He didn't have functional tentacles, but his deception wouldn't require them. Stryker still stood obediently under Tyson's influence. His face, usually stern and commanding, wore a look of vacant compliance.
"Gather the soldiers," Tyson commanded, his voice now a deep rumble, characteristic of Omega Red. Stryker moved without question, his usual authoritative demeanor replaced by mindless obedience. The captured soldiers had been moved back to the institute from Limbo, now lined up in the corridor, and looked on in confusion as their leader walked past, followed by the imposing figure of Omega Red. Tyson, disguised, followed Stryker through the mansion's corridors.
Outside, the night air was cool and crisp. The mansion loomed behind them, its windows reflecting the moonlight. Stryker's soldiers, under the charmed man's orders, filed into the transport vehicles without a word. The journey to Alkali Lake was silent, the only sound being the hum of the engines and the occasional rustle of movement. Tyson, still in his Omega Red persona, sat motionless.
Upon arriving at Alkali Lake days later, the scene was starkly different from the lush grounds of the mansion. Stryker led the way into the heart of the facility, his soldiers trailing behind. The hallways were clinical and cold, with harsh lighting that cast long shadows. The air was filled with the scent of metal and machinery.
Stryker stood before his assembled soldiers. The large room echoed with the sound of his voice. "Today marks a new phase in our plans. No longer will we be hunting the mutant threat." he declared, his eyes scanning the ranks of his troops. His words resonated off the cold, metallic walls, filled with a sense of ominous purpose. The soldiers, clad in their uniforms, stood at attention, their faces a mixture of determination and loyalty. Tyson, disguised as Omega Red, stood at the edge of the crowd. His eyes, however, were focused elsewhere. As Stryker continued his speech, Tyson slowly edged away from the group, ensuring his departure went unnoticed.
Once out of sight, Tyson quickened his pace. The hallways of the facility were a maze of steel and concrete, but he navigated them with ease, his mind set on his objective. He soon found himself in front of a massive reservoir of molten adamantium. The glowing metal pulsed like a living thing, its surface rippling with intense heat. The air around it was thick with the heat it radiated.
Tyson extended his hand, focusing his Magneto-derived powers on the liquid metal. He felt the familiar pull of the magnetic forces, bending to his will. The adamantium slowly began to rise, forming thin, controlled streams. With meticulous care, Tyson directed the streams towards himself. The metal wrapped around his skin in a nano-thin layer, replacing his previous skin coating, now creating an invisible, impenetrable armor.
The process required intense concentration. Tyson knew this level of control was beyond the ability of anyone else or any technology. It was a protection only he could wield, and one so demanding, he could only maintain it on himself. Yet, his thoughts turned to those he cared for back at the mansion. He wanted to extend this protection to them, in whatever way he could.
Tyson began to weave thin threads of adamantium, manipulating them with precision. He fashioned them into clothing, a set for each of those under his care - Illyana, Mystique, and Toad.
The threads interlaced, forming garments that were as strong as they were light. They shimmered slightly in the dim light, their metallic nature barely perceptible.
Each outfit he crafted appeared as common clothing, combining flexibility with protection. The garment was designed as neutral as possible, a simple shirt and pants to not hinder Illyana's swordplay, or Toad and Mystique's agile acrobatic combat styles. For Mystique's shapeshifting, it was an imperfect solution that he would hopefully remedy in the future.
Finally, Tyson crafted a simple suit for Stryker, as he planned to make the man his permanent minion and mole. With the suits completed, Tyson gathered the nearly indestructible clothing. With his arms laden with the newly crafted suits, he made his way through the corridors of the Alkali Lake facility. He moved with a sense of purpose, his Magneto-derived powers allowing him to bypass locked doors and barriers with ease.
As he walked, Tyson's thoughts were focused on Jason Stryker. He knew the young man's story from his father's absorbed memories and his memories from his previous life. Finally, he found Jason, confined in a small room. The space was sparse, Jason sat in a wheelchair, hooked up to machinery that drained his cerebral spinal fluid for use in a mind control serum, his eyes were empty and distant.
Tyson set the suits hovering. Using Azazel's shapeshifting ability, his appearance shifted, his features morphing until he looked exactly like William Stryker. He approached Jason slowly, his expression softened with feigned paternal concern. "Jason," Tyson said gently, adopting Stryker's voice, "I'm sorry for what you've been through." His words were measured, laced with a feigned remorse. He sat beside Jason, his posture open and inviting. "I've come to apologize for the torture you faced, for the life I made you live." He reached out, placing a hand on Jason's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "You've been living a pitiful existence, my son," he continued, "used as a tool in a war you never asked for." His words were gentle, but inside, Tyson's resolve was steel.
"This is mercy, Jason," he said quietly. "Your strength will be used to help mutants, to make a better world." Tyson placed his hand on Jason's head, his expression solemn. "I'm sorry it has to be this way." He moved the nano-thin barrier around his hand, allowing Rogue's power to access Jason, beginning to absorb his life force. Jason's body tensed briefly, then relaxed. His eyes closed, and a peaceful expression settled over his face. The pain of Rogue's life drain was mitigated as Tyson used Jason's own power on him, combined with Azazel's charm to remove any feelings of discomfort or pain.
Tyson held him as his life ebbed away. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of the facility. Jason's power flowed into Tyson, his abilities and memories becoming part of him. Finally, Jason's body went limp. He passed, his torture now over.
Tyson stood, transforming back into Omega Red. He looked down at Jason, "Your strength will not be wasted," he promised.
He picked up the suits and left the room. As he walked, Tyson's mind was already turning to the future. The power he had absorbed from Jason would be a valuable asset, but he wasn't finished in the facility yet. Tyson continued moving with purpose through the facility's sterile corridors. His mind was racing, already plotting his next move. He knew that Jason's power was a significant gain, but there was more to be done in this facility.
In a secluded part of the base, Tyson found Charles Xavier, the renowned telepath. Charles sat in a plain wheelchair, unconscious with a psionic inhibitor fitted snugly on his head. The device, designed to suppress his formidable abilities, rendered him vulnerable.
Approaching Charles, Tyson felt a pang of regret for what he was about to do. He admired Charles, respected him even, but knew that the situation required drastic measures. He needed Xavier's powers to ensure the loyalty of this facility. Carefully, Tyson reached out, using Magneto's power to momentarily remove the nano-thin barrier around his hand. He touched Charles's hand gently, activating Rogue's power. The absorption process began, a transfer of energy and ability. Tyson held Charles's hand for precisely ten seconds. Long enough to acquire the man's prodigious psionic abilities, but not so long as to cause permanent damage. He felt the surge of power, the vastness of Charles's mind briefly merging with his own.
Quickly, Tyson teleported away, back to Magneto's hideout. He needed to move fast, to make the most of his newly acquired abilities. He appeared in the first cell, where one of the identical psychics, Sophie, was held. She looked up in surprise, her blonde hair framing a face filled with confusion. Before Sophie could speak, Tyson teleported directly in front of her. His hand moved to her mouth, absorbing her power, and weakening her. He needed to act quickly, to bring her under his control before she could resist. Tyson's eyes, one the color of a stormy sea and the other a deep forest green locked with Sophie's. He invoked Azazel's charm, Jason's illusions, and Charles's telepathy, intertwining them with her own absorbed psychic ability. A complex tapestry of mental manipulation unfolded, rewriting her memories with him at the center.
Sophie's eyes widened as her mind was reshaped, her memories altered to see Tyson as a focal point of her existence. It was a delicate process, one that required precision and control.
As he finished, Tyson's voice was soft but firm. "Everything is going to be fine, Sophie," he assured her. "Just give me a minute to speak with your sisters."
Sophie nodded, her expression now calm, her gaze fixed on Tyson. The manipulation had worked; she was now under his control.
Tyson stood up, his mind already on the next step. He needed to work quickly, to bring the other psychics under his control before he lost his grip on Xavier's ability. He moved to the next cell, the power he had absorbed from Charles Xavier and Sophie gave him an edge, a level of control he hadn't possessed before. In each cell, he repeated the process. A quick teleportation, a brief touch, and a complex weaving of mental manipulation. Each blonde psychic, one by one, fell under his influence.
Once the blondes were handled, he turned his attention to Omega Red. Nearly all of Styrker's mutants were now under his control. Tyson had turned the tables, usurping the very powers Stryker had gathered against them. He had neutralized a significant threat and gained valuable allies. The psychics, once pawns in Stryker's game, were now pieces in his strategy to protect and elevate mutants.
Back at Alkali Lake, Tyson moved through the facility with a new sense of authority. In Stryker's office, the man himself sat alone, his expression one of concentration as he worked. The room was stark and functional, a reflection of the man who occupied it. Papers and screens cluttered the desk, evidence of his tireless campaign against mutants. Stryker looked up, his face registering surprise for a moment before it smoothed into a neutral expression. "You're back," he stated, his tone flat.
"Yes, I am," Tyson replied, his voice calm. He approached Stryker, his steps measured and deliberate. This was the moment to solidify his control over the man.
Using the last vestiges of Charles Xavier's power, Tyson reached out with his mind. He delved into Stryker's consciousness, changing the man's perception of reality. In this reality, Tyson was his superior, the one to whom Stryker would bring warnings, seek approvals, and show unwavering loyalty. Stryker's eyes glazed over for a moment as the telepathic manipulation took hold. When he refocused, his gaze on Tyson was different; respectful, almost subservient. "What are your orders?" he asked, his voice now carrying a hint of deference.
"All anti-mutant activities are no longer your concern. Be a good little minion for Hydra, but run any schemes past me first. I'll return Omega Red to you, so you have some muscle. Maintain a small reserve of adamantium, should I need it." Tyson said in a firm tone.
Stryker nodded, his expression one of acceptance. "Understood," he replied. Tyson regarded Stryker for a moment longer, ensuring his control was absolute.
With ten minutes of Charles Xavier's power, Tyson had secured the allegiance of one of the mutants' greatest enemies.
Leaving Stryker to his work, Tyson turned his attention back to the adamantium reservoir. The glowing metal, once a tool for creating weapons against mutants, was now under his command.
He thought of the five psychics – Sophie, Phoebe, Irma, Celeste, and Esme. They, too, had been pawns in Stryker's game, but now they were his to protect, his allies. They deserved more than just protection; they deserved elegance. Tyson focused his powers on the adamantium, drawing out thin, flexible strands. He began to weave them, crafting them into dresses. Each dress was designed to be unique, reflecting the personality of its intended wearer.
For Sophie, he crafted a dress that was regal and commanding, befitting her role as the leader. The material flowed like liquid silver, shimmering with every movement.
Phoebe's dress was more playful, with intricate patterns that sparkled in the light. It was a dress that spoke of her intelligence and wit.
Irma's was a creation of subtlety and grace, with soft curves and a gentle shimmer. It mirrored her calm and thoughtful nature.
Celeste's dress was bold and striking, with sharp lines and a bright sheen. It was a testament to her strength and determination.
Finally, Esme's dress was daring and adventurous, with an asymmetrical design that seemed to challenge the norms. It suited her rebellious spirit perfectly.
With the dresses completed, Tyson stepped back to admire his handiwork. They were more than just protective clothing; they were symbols of a new beginning. Tyson had secured a significant victory. Weapon X was no longer a threat, and he had access to vast resources including adamantium that would keep his allies protected. Leaving the dresses in a secure location, Tyson prepared to return to the mansion. His mind was already on the next steps, on how to use his new powers and allies to protect mutants and forge a path to the future.
~~ Rogue Replacement ~~
Yuriko awoke in a room that felt unfamiliar, yet strangely serene. The first rays of morning light filtered through a small window, casting a gentle glow across the space. As consciousness returned, a profound realization washed over her. The oppressive, unyielding control that Stryker had over her mind was gone.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a physical response to the emotional surge within her. For the first time in months, she felt a sensation that had become foreign to her. Joy. It bubbled up from the depths of her being, overwhelming in its intensity. Tears, unbidden, started streaming down her face, not of sadness, but of release. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of her crying. It was a cathartic release, months of manipulation and control pouring out of her in a flood of tears. She allowed herself this moment, letting the tears wash away the remnants of Stryker's influence.
Gradually, the wave of emotions ebbed. Yuriko took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. The room resembled a hospital, clinical and clean, with a single bed and basic furnishings.
In a chair next to her bed, a man sat watching her. He was unfamiliar, with a calm demeanor that seemed at odds with the turmoil she felt. He had an air of strength about him, yet his eyes were kind.
As a reflex, Yuriko's long, nail-like claws began to extend, a defensive response ingrained in her. But to her surprise, the claws retracted against her will, slipping back into her fingers. Confusion and curiosity replaced her initial instinct of fear.
The man spoke in a soothing voice. "Hello, Yuriko. My name is Tyson." His tone was gentle, devoid of any threat. "I'm sorry for what you've been through. I'm the one who saved you from Stryker."
Yuriko's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed his words. "Saved me?" she echoed her voice a mix of skepticism and hope. "How? Why?"
"Stryker was using you, controlling you. I couldn't let that continue. He won't be a problem for you anymore." Tyson leaned forward slightly, his expression earnest. "You're free now, Yuriko."
The words sank in, and Yuriko felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. The idea that Stryker could no longer harm her was almost too much to believe. A flicker of hope ignited in her heart. The thought of freedom, of being her own person again, was both exhilarating and terrifying. "What now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tyson smiled, a reassuring, warm smile. "Now, you heal." Yuriko looked into his mismatched blue and green eyes and was mesmerized by their beauty. He continued, "I'll help you. You want my help."
Yuriko considered his words. Now, she had the chance to reclaim her life. She looked at Tyson, really looked at him, and saw not just a savior, but a kindred spirit, someone who understood her pain. For a long moment, the room was quiet. Yuriko felt a sense of peace, a calmness that she hadn't known in a long time. Finally, she spoke, her voice firmer now. "I'll need time. To figure things out," she said, meeting Tyson's gaze. "But thank you for giving me this chance. Will you help me move forward?"
Tyson nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Take all the time you need," he said. "I'll be here to help, whenever you're ready."
As Tyson stood to leave, Yuriko watched him, a sense of gratitude filling her. He had given her something priceless. The opportunity to rediscover who she was. The door closed softly behind Tyson, leaving Yuriko alone with her thoughts. The morning light grew brighter, casting a warm glow across the room. For the first time in a long time, Yuriko felt a sense of hope for the future.
Outside, Tyson walked away from Yuriko's room, a smile on his face.
AN: I haven't written anything for this story all month because I've been focused on getting words down for my original story for the Writeathon/NaNoWriMo. But I decided to take a break and steal some time to throw together a What If for this Arc. Editing was light, so apologies if there were more errors than usual.
Behind the Scenes
- This chapter had no flashbacks as Tyson absorbed life force. Sorry, I know it's probably a nice unique addition to the story, but those are a pain in the ass to write and require research and effort to get right. Since this is just a What If, I wasn't willing to put in the work to do it. I know I wrote Magneto's in the first one. But for this one, Tyson touched William Stryker, All the Cuckoos, and Xavier. Each of those could've revealed a wealth of information, which could be potential spoilers for parts of the main story that I haven't written or fully fleshed out yet.