Chapter 3

The long-haired man looked into Megan's frightened eyes with a wide grin. She realized she was in grave danger. The person standing before her, threatening her with death, was no ordinary human. If his abilities were anything like the woman she had fought at the amusement park, Pixie knew her chances in a direct confrontation were slim. She turned to flee, hoping to call for help. Unfortunately, her opponent was too fast. He appeared in front of her before she could even think of her next move.

"Don't try to fight me, Megan Gwynn. You don't stand a chance. If you behave, I promise your death will be quick and painless," the golden-haired man informed her, smiling again.

"Who are you? What do you people want from me? I've done nothing to harm you!" Megan cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Personally, I bear you no ill will. You don't interest me in any way because you're a woman; I see nothing of value in you. Let's just say your only sin is simply being born." The man replied in an unsettlingly polite tone. "You're an anomaly, and anomalies like you are a threat to our world. Forgive me." The man raised his sword, the blade gleaming as he pointed it toward the mutant.

"I won't give up that easily!" Megan spread her wings and unleashed a cloud of hallucinogenic dust in his direction. The man remained unfazed, calmly waiting as the dust either dispersed or settled on the ground. Then, he moved again, advancing toward the terrified and disoriented Pixie.

"You're probably wondering why your powder has no effect on me. Your drugs won't work on someone who's spent their entire life wrapped in enchantments!" The long-haired man laughed, raising both arms above his head.

"Let's see how you handle my storm!" he shouted, and hundreds of rose petals began swirling around his body. Carried by a magical wind, the petals shot toward the girl with immense speed. The gust was too strong for Megan to stay on her feet. She was flung back several meters, crashing into a wooden crate nearby.

Meanwhile, Hope Abbott received a call from Jessica. Preview explained her vision in detail and warned that there was a deadly threat waiting at the airport. Trance wasted no time in sharing the news with the rest of the group.

"Listen, Jessie and Laura learned something about those who tried to kill Megan. Apparently, someone dangerous is waiting for her at the airport."

Mark paled as he heard Hope's words, his fists clenching tightly.

"That policeman…" he whispered before taking off in the direction Megan had gone just moments earlier.

"Mark!" Shan tried to stop him, but it was no use. She turned to Hope. "Hope! Scan the area in your astral form!"

"On it!" Trance closed her eyes, and soon, her body released a spectral, translucent form, a projection of her mind. Hope's astral spirit soared high above the airport, giving her a bird's-eye view of the surroundings as she searched for her friend. At that same moment, she noticed a streak of light racing through the sky at incredible speed. Without hesitating, she approached the phenomenon, realizing there were two figures traveling along the shining line. She recognized the silhouette of a man in a trench coat, accompanied by a coyote.

"You won't get her!" Hope thought, remembering Jessica's warning about the assassin targeting Megan. In an instant, she aligned herself parallel to the glowing trajectory and fired a powerful energy blast at the travelers.

The golden-haired elf raised his rapier above his head, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to Pixie. Megan struggled to get up, gripping the crate beside her, but her body refused to obey. She was too dazed from the storm of rose petals, her limbs aching from the hard impact.

"I hope you fall gracefully. I'd hate for you to dirty my clothes. You know, this shirt is made from fabric that hasn't existed on this Earth for centuries," the man said, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement as he looked into Megan's eyes.

"Go to hell..." she spat, her voice trembling with anger as she shut her eyes tight. "This is it, Mark... we won't meet again," she thought bitterly, realizing how foolish she had been, crying over her parents' decision to take her out of Xavier's school.

"Leave her alone!" A familiar voice rang out — Mark's voice.

"Oh... now this is getting interesting," the elf smirked, adjusting his hair. The young mutant DJ stood a few meters away, his face flushed with exhaustion from running and fury toward the figure standing before him.

"I said, leave her alone! Can't you hear me?" Mark shouted again, his voice shaking with anger. Earphones from his music player were still in place, and his hands crackled with the energy gathering inside them. The golden-haired assassin looked amused by the boy's arrival.

"And here I thought this mission would be utterly dull. Slitting the throat of... this," he gestured toward Megan, "would've been painfully boring. But you, boy, you seem interesting. Shall we dance?" he said, flashing Mark a playful wink.

"How about you dance with this!" DJ shouted, unleashing a surge of energy that he had charged while listening to some intense, heavy metal music. The blast hit the elf, sending him sprawling onto the pavement. His rapier clattered against the stone, producing a sharp, metallic ring. Mark rushed to Megan's side.

"Who the hell is this freak? Did he hurt you?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"He didn't get the chance. He roughed me up a little, but if you hadn't shown up... he was going to kill me, just like that pale woman tried to. What do they want from me?!" Megan's voice wavered as she spoke.

"I don't know, but I won't let them hurt you. Even if I have to kill him," Mark declared, glaring at the elf, who was already starting to rise again.

"Be careful. My dust doesn't work on him," Megan warned.

An astral bolt created by Hope struck Aaron and the Traveler, both carried by the magical energy of the Corridor. The surprise attack hit its mark – neither the man nor his companion had time to defend themselves. The connection to the path was severed, and the glowing ribbon wavered before vanishing in a cascade of sparks that flickered for a mere moment. The coyote, sensing the danger, disappeared, fleeing into the dimension where it usually dwelled when not summoned. Aaron's body, now fully material, crashed hard onto the pavement. Hope's spectral form hovered several meters above the ground, waiting for the man to recover from the shock of being forcibly ejected from the Corridor. She was determined – she wouldn't allow the man before her to pose any threat to Megan. She was prepared to fight, even if it meant risking her own life.

"Who... what are you?!" Aaron shouted, reaching for his gun.

"I am Trance, from the Paragons. Don't waste your time trying to shoot me. In my astral form, you can't harm me. You're not going any further, so wait patiently until more of my allies arrive. You won't get Megan Gwynn, and you will explain to me why you're after her and what you want from her!"

Hearing Pixie's full name, Aaron quickly realized who the ethereal girl hovering before him was, and the purpose of his unconventional arrival at the airport came back to him.

"No, Trance, you've got it all wrong! I'm here to warn Megan, to save her! She's in grave danger! I'm the one who saved her and her friend at the amusement park!"

Hope was thrown off by this unexpected revelation.

"How am I supposed to believe you? I'm not taking any chances. I'll hold you here until my team arrives. Then you can try convincing us!"

"Girl, don't you understand? Every second counts! Megan is in terrible danger! If you don't step aside right now, I'll have no choice but to fight you!"

"How do you plan on fighting a ghost?" Hope's spirit smiled confidently.

"You'll see..." Aaron took a step toward her.

Mark hurled spheres of concentrated energy the size of fists toward the golden-haired elf. But the man was too fast, too agile. With effortless grace, he dodged each projectile, leaping over them or sidestepping with ease, as though the fight was nothing more than a game to him. Mark's body was growing weaker, exhaustion setting in, but he refused to give up. He knew he was the only thing standing between the assassin and Megan's life. Suddenly, the elf deflected one of the energy spheres with a flash of his gilded sword. He looked impatient.

"Getting tired of this little dance, boy. How about we move on to something more serious, hmm?" he sneered, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

A whirlwind of rose petals began swirling around the elf's body, twisting and coiling into two massive streams that snaked around his arms like monstrous serpents, waiting for their master's command. Without warning, they shot toward Mark, slamming into him with the force of a raging waterfall. The first strike shattered his music player, the second sent him flying several meters back.

The elf seized the moment of Mark's disorientation. In a flash, he was upon him, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against a large wooden crate, pinning him down with his full weight. The elf brought his face close to Mark's, his breath cold against the boy's skin.

"You see, boy... we could have shared such pleasures together. But now you'll have to wait until I finish my task. Stay right here, and don't go anywhere," he whispered, staring into Mark's eyes with a twisted grin. With a sudden, sharp motion, the elf pushed away and turned toward Megan, intending to end her life with a single, decisive strike. But at that moment, Mark heard the deafening roar of a plane taking off in the distance. The powerful jet engines vibrated through the air, shaking the ground beneath them despite the runway being far off. Something snapped inside Mark. Instinct took over. He tapped into the vibrations, pulling from them an overwhelming surge of energy. His arms began to glow with a blinding white light.

"Now!" he thought, focusing all his strength. He channeled the force, shaping it into a single, deadly blow. His hands blazed as he unleashed the full might of his newfound power. A massive shockwave blasted toward the unsuspecting elf. There was no time for him to react. The golden sword shattered into pieces, and his body was enveloped in a radiant, searing light. Megan, terrified, rushed toward Mark.

"Mark, stop! You'll kill him!" she screamed.

"I... I don't know if I can stop!" he struggled to reply, barely able to control the raw energy coursing through his body. His newfound power surged wildly, beyond his control. One of the elf's arms had already been stripped of skin, the bones within splintering into fragments. In a final act of desperation, the elf summoned one of his most powerful spells, a last resort meant only for moments of mortal peril. His body vanished in an instant, leaving behind nothing but a flurry of ginkgo leaves swirling in the air. Mark, drained of all his energy, collapsed onto the pavement, unconscious. Megan knelt down at the spot where her would-be killer had stood mere moments ago.

"What just happened? Where did that deadly power come from, Mark?" she whispered to herself, glancing between his motionless body and the shards of the golden sword, gleaming in the sunlight.

Aaron arrived at the scene where, just minutes ago, a deadly battle had unfolded. His gaze fell upon DJ lying unconscious on the ground, Megan kneeling beside him, and the surrounding area, bearing the unmistakable marks of tremendous unleashed energy. The pavement slabs were cracked, shattered wooden crates lay scattered, and rose petals, along with ginkgo leaves, swirled in the air like haunting echoes of the recent fight.

He stood in the shadows, concealing his presence. Every instinct told him to step forward, to ensure the girl's safety, but he held back, seeing that the immediate danger had passed.

"It seems you can take care of yourselves," he thought, turning his gaze away from the scene. Relief flickered in his mind, but it was quickly overshadowed by something far more unsettling.

Shan and Nicholas, worried by Hope's prolonged absence from her own body, decided to head toward the airport's technical area. This was where they had last seen Megan with the officer and where Mark had rushed off without hesitation. Meanwhile, Ben stayed behind with Hope, who was still in her trance-like state, ensuring no harm came to her physical form while her astral projection searched for their friend.

After several tense minutes of walking, Karma and Wolfcub were met with a disturbing sight. By one of the large buildings, they saw the silhouette of Trance. Though still in her spectral form, Hope looked eerily solid, like a statue sculpted from blue-tinted glass, her face frozen in an expression of profound shock. The two mutants quickly rushed to her side, trying everything they could to help. Shan attempted to reach her telepathically, to catch hold of her mind in her psychic grasp, but to no avail. To their surprise, Hope's frozen state didn't last long. Her body shimmered and, moments later, rapidly shifted back into her ethereal form.

"What happened, Hope?" Shan asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I... I'm so exhausted... I need to return to my body... I can't hold on any longer..." Trance's voice barely escaped her spectral throat, weak and fading.

"Alright, Hope. Don't strain yourself. You can explain everything later," Shan reassured her. Without another word, Hope's astral form shot back toward her body with blinding speed.

Karma turned to her companion. "Nick, go back to the others. Talk to Hope when she's strong enough. Find out exactly what happened to her. I have a bad feeling, and I need to find Megan and Mark."

"Got it," Nicholas nodded, hurrying back to the group.

In a matter of minutes, Shan arrived at the airport's technical zone. She passed by wooden crates, loading equipment, glass panels, and saw the distant figures of planes parked on the runway. Her heart quickened as she approached the area that bore the unmistakable signs of a recent fight — splintered crates, shattered ground, and scattered rose petals mixed with ginkgo leaves littered the scene. Then she spotted Megan kneeling beside an unconscious Mark. Fear gripped Shan as she saw the tears in Megan's eyes and the pale face of the boy. She rushed to their side.

"Megan, what happened? What's wrong with Mark?" Shan asked, her voice filled with urgency.

"He's... exhausted," Megan's voice trembled. "He used so much energy... I've never seen him so determined."

"Energy? Against whom? What happened here?" Shan's concern deepened, her mind racing.

"The officer... the one who escorted me out of the airport... he wasn't a real officer. He was an assassin, Shan. He was going to kill me..." Megan's voice shook as the emotional tension of the past minutes took its toll, pushing her close to the edge of panic.

"I don't know who he was... maybe a mutant, maybe a sorcerer... my hallucinogenic dust didn't affect him at all. He wanted to kill me with a sword, Shan. He was toying with me... He was going to slit my throat..."

Shan knelt beside Megan and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"It's okay. You're safe now. That man is gone," she whispered, trying to soothe her trembling friend.

"Mark saved me. When the plane took off, he used the noise to awaken some kind of power within him. It was... it was terrifying... I don't remember everything; I was in shock, but I think... I think he killed that man, Shan!" Megan's voice broke. "Mark tore him apart!"

Shan's heart sank at Megan's words, but she kept her expression calm.

"He must not have had a choice, Megan," she replied gently, her eyes lingering on the peaceful face of DJ, now lost in the deep sleep that was restoring his mind and body.

Ben, Wolfcub, and Hope sat on benches in one of the most deserted corners of the airport they could find. Hope leaned against the wall, her breath coming in shallow, labored gasps. Her face was damp with beads of sweat, and each inhale seemed to cause her pain. She felt as though her spirit didn't quite fit into her body anymore — muscles she never knew existed ached with every movement. The brief time she had spent in a state of crystallized ethereal energy had taken a serious toll on her, and now, after returning to her body, even simple movements were a struggle. Lifting her hand was a challenge, and walking a few meters without her friends' support seemed nearly impossible. She hoped that the effects would be as short-lived as her time frozen in the form of a translucent, living statue.

"Who did this to you, Hope?" Ben asked, his voice tight with concern.

"I... don't know..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But it was the same man who helped Megan and Mark in the park. He's on our side."

"If he's on our side, you wouldn't look like you're about to drop dead!" Ben retorted, anger and worry clashing in his tone.

"He stopped me... so I wouldn't interfere... Maybe I deserved it..." Hope replied weakly, still not lifting her head.

"But please... let me stop talking now," she added after a moment, her voice strained. "Moving my jaw feels like someone's jabbing it with a hundred needles."

She closed her eyes, trying to find some rest, though each breath was a battle she barely had the strength to fight.

Meanwhile, in Wales, in a tavern called "Under the Ruins," a conversation was unfolding between two old friends, Ian and Will. The red-haired man with a mustache sat at a table, sipping beer, while his dark-haired companion leaned against the cold stone wall. The pub wasn't crowded — maybe three or four other people, including the old bartender, were scattered around.

"I called America, just like you asked. I told the headmistress of that school to send Megan home. She tried to argue with me, to convince me that staying at the Institute was the most important thing for her right now, but I stood my ground," Ian said, raising his mug to his lips.

"Good. Do you know when she'll arrive?" Will asked, his brows furrowed as he looked at his mustached friend.

"I'm not sure, maybe tomorrow, or the day after. I told them to hurry. But I still don't understand why you wanted me to bring her here. She's much safer in America. There are plenty of people with extraordinary abilities there, and if anyone tried to hurt her, surely someone would protect her. The X-Men live at that school, you've heard of them, right?" Ian asked.

"All those so-called American superheroes, mutants, or whatever they're called, are a product of the last century. The threat to Megan is far older than their country, older even than ours. They aren't prepared to face what's coming. Megan was attacked, and her supposed protectors failed the test." Will announced coldly.

"What? She was attacked? When?" Ian jumped up, his face going pale, heart pounding at the thought of his daughter in danger.

"The same day we met after all these years."

"You didn't tell me…" Ian was nervous and angry at his friend.

"I wanted to spare your heart, Ian." Will said, maybe honestly maybe half-mocking him.

"But how do you know?"

"Because our mutual friend was there in the States. He protected Megan without revealing anything about us."

"Our mutual friend? You don't mean…" Ian asked, not quite believing what he just had heard.

"Yes, Ian… He saved your little girl." Will answered with a cold smile.

"I thought he was dead… I'll owe him more than one drink when he gets back." Ian said, feeling relief that his daughter was safe.

But him companion was not sure if this was the end, quite the contrary. "Wait until your daughter is truly safe."

"What is all this about? After our little adventure and after Megan was born, I cut ties with the past. I locked those books up in the attic, put the rest in crates in the basement, and now I live day by day, focusing only on work and my family. I even broke off contact with my mother. I wanted to escape it all, and for years I managed. Why is it all coming back now? Why did you come back?" Ian continued.

Will looked at him with a heavy gaze, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Living in the world of Eternal Twilight robs ordinary mortals of their minds. I didn't understand that before; I was young and foolish. It's too late for me now, but I want to do something good before that world calls me back, and I sink into it forever. That realm is part of hell, and nothing will change that, no matter how stunningly beautiful it appears. The beings who live there also feel its corrupting influence, though to a lesser degree. They know full well that endless stasis and constant revelry aren't sources of happiness — they only bring boredom and indifference. Some of them want change, but not all agree."

"Disagreements in the Tylwyth Teg court? Who would've thought," Ian muttered sarcastically.

"That's putting it mildly. I'd say it's more like preparations for a civil war. A real war, one that will reach our world if it's not stopped in time, our Earth… and God forbid, even the creator of the Realm of Eternal Twilight. The Dark Tylwyth Teg were the first to propose a plan for revolution in the Realms, and soon, more beings joined their cause. They know they can't create a new order in their world of endless twilight, so they'll try to build it here, on this planet. Both sides are sending agents to Earth. I have no idea how many people walking these islands are actually dormant beings from those realms. But we're directly responsible for what's happening. Our recklessness showed them how to change. And you, Ian, are especially responsible. Because it's thanks to you that change is physically possible."

Ian froze, staring blankly at his beer mug, his hand trembling slightly.

"Megan?" His voice was weak, almost breaking.

"Yes, your daughter is a hybrid who can bridge both worlds. Now do you understand why it's so crucial to protect her? Do you see why she couldn't stay in America, so far from the place of her birth?"

Ian didn't respond. His gaze drifted around the pub, lingering on the old bartender and two burly men who had just come in and ordered two large mugs of golden ale.

Shan and Megan knelt beside Mark, who was slowly regaining consciousness. At first, he couldn't recall what had just happened, nor the immense energy he had unleashed and somehow controlled. But he vividly remembered one thing — Megan had been in great danger. Relief washed over him as he saw her safe and sound by his side.

"Megan... are you okay? Where's that guy…" he asked, trying to get up.

"Stay still, Mark," Shan said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He's gone. You defeated him, we're safe!" Megan, chimed in with a smile. Hearing his girlfriend's words, Mark suddenly realized how he had driven their enemy away. He looked down at his hands, as if seeking answers in them — trying to understand what he had done to defend himself.

"Megan... did I… did I kill him?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

"Don't think about that right now. What matters is that we're safe. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead." Megan tried to comfort him with words.

"Take it easy, Mark. Once you've recovered, we'll meet up with the others and head back to the school. We can figure out what to do next," Shan reassured him.

"Unfortunately, your plans will have to change." A man's voice interrupted. Shan spun around, instantly on guard.

"It's that man! The one who saved us in the park!" Pixie exclaimed, standing up from the pavement to join her teacher.

"Who are you? What do you know about the attack on my students?" Shan demanded, her eyes narrowing at Aaron.

"I'm an old friend of your father, Megan Gwynn. I came to the States to protect you."

"My father?" Pixie looked bewildered.

"You haven't done a very good job of it," Karma added, her tone sharp.

"This country is too vast to protect someone single-handedly. But you do have an excellent protector at your side," the man said, glancing toward Mark, who was still sitting on the pavement.

"Did my father send you? Did he know I was in serious danger? Who were those people? Why did they want to kill me?" Megan bombarded him with questions, her voice growing more frantic. Shan gently motioned for her to be quiet.

"You'll come back to the school with us, and you'll explain everything," Shan said, glancing between her students and the mysterious man.

"That won't be possible. For the sake of your student, we must head immediately to Megan's hometown."

"That's impossible! Our flight just left, and besides, I won't allow Megan to travel anywhere, especially now that we know she's in danger! The X-Men will find out who's behind these attacks, and if you help us…"

"I'm not talking about flying. We'll be traveling in a much less conventional way," the man interrupted with a sly smile. As soon as he finished speaking, an enormous glowing vortex appeared behind him, and in its center stood a being in the form of a coyote.

"What do you want now?" the coyote grumbled, glaring at the unshaven man.

"We're going home," the man said firmly.

"Finally, something that makes sense."

"You think I'm going to let you drag my student into that thing? No way!" Shan stood her ground.

"We don't have much time. I'm not here to argue. I'm taking you, that boy, and Megan. You're welcome to step through first, if you like," he said, gesturing to the swirling portal.

"Absolutely not!" Karma tried to use her psychic grip on the man, but to her shock, his mind was shielded by a powerful barrier.

"Don't try that again. If we don't act now, they'll keep sending more assassins, until they succeed. And when that happens, Megan's death will be on your conscience. Think carefully about your decision." The man said with a cold voice.

"I'm not changing my mind. Megan, Mark, and I are not going with you!" Shan's voice was resolute, unwavering.

"Very well, as you wish. Traveler!" Aaron called out, turning to his coyote companion.

At that moment, the vortex flared with an intense light, so bright that the three mutants were blinded, even though they had instinctively shut their eyes and covered them with their hands. When the light finally dimmed, Shan, Mark, and Megan, along with Aaron in the trench coat and his unusual companion, were gone from the old warehouse section of the airport.

Hope felt much better than she had just a few minutes earlier. The spell Aaron had cast on her seemed to have lost its power as quickly as it had taken hold. Trance still vividly remembered her conversation with the man — every word he said about Megan and his plans for her echoed in her mind.

"Shan's been gone for a while. Maybe we should look for her?" Ben suggested.

"It'll be hard to track her with so many people around, but I'll try," Nicholas replied.

"No... it's pointless. You won't find her anymore," Hope suddenly spoke up, motioning for the guys to stay put.

"Why do you say that?" Ben asked, concerned.

"I spoke with that man when he froze me," Hope explained. "He claimed to be a longtime friend of Megan's family — specifically her father. He said that only on her native land could he really protect her. He planned to take her, along with anyone near her, to Wales in the same way he arrived at the airport. If Shan, Mark, and Megan aren't back, they're probably already on their way to Megan's home. Then he used some kind of spell on me, something I don't even understand, to stop me because I'm the only one who could've tracked him to wherever he was headed. As you can see, he got rid of me quite effectively."

"Did he teleport?" Ben asked.

"No... it was something else," Hope replied, frowning as if trying to recall the details. "In my astral form, I saw him moving along some sort of glowing line. I don't remember clearly, but I think there was someone or something with him. He likely used the same technique to take Megan and the others."

"Hope, do you think you could find that glowing line?" Ben asked hopefully.

"I doubt it. I've never seen anything like that before. Besides, like I said, he blocked me pretty well. I can't leave my body — it's as if he placed some kind of barrier on me. I hope it's only temporary," she added, her worry evident.

"Dr. McCoy should check you out as soon as we get back to school," Match suggested.

"We need to go back and report everything that happened here to the X-Men. Maybe we can head to Wales with someone from the team. The sooner we move, the better." Ben decided.

A blinding flash of light illuminated the area, piercing through the early morning twilight. Four figures, along with a coyote, suddenly materialized in the middle of a vast, windswept moor. The three mutants stood disoriented, still reeling from their forced journey to the other side of the world, dropped into a different time zone without warning. Shan and Megan quickly regained their composure, but Mark was on the verge of passing out, the fight with the golden-haired man having drained him far more than he had anticipated.

"Where are we?! Where did you take us?" Shan shouted, her voice filled with anger and frustration. Once again, she attempted to seize control of Aaron's mind, but it was like hitting a solid wall — her powers were useless against him.

"Megan should be the one to answer that," Aaron replied calmly, his demeanor unfazed.

Pixie scanned her surroundings, eyes wide as she took in the endless stretches of moorland, the stormy sky above, and finally, the distant silhouette of a crumbling castle looming on the horizon. Her breath caught in her throat, and a wide smile spread across her face.

"This is Wales, Shan! It's where I grew up!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with a mix of nostalgia and excitement. Karma, however, wasn't convinced. She shifted into a defensive stance. Despite her powers' failure, she readied herself for a physical confrontation. Hours spent training in the Danger Room had to count for something now.

"I won't let you take Megan!" Shan's voice was firm, laced with determination. Her eyes were locked onto Aaron, bracing for the inevitable clash. The man gave her a bemused smile, tilting his head slightly as if he were dealing with a stubborn child. "Still don't trust me? I suppose I'll have to convince you by force, then."

At his feet, the coyote's gaze darted between them, a twisted glimmer of sadistic amusement flickering in its eyes.

"Stop it! Both of you, calm down!" Megan's voice rang out, cutting through the tension. She had noticed two figures approaching from the distance. One was a grim-looking man with dark hair, while the other — a man with fiery red hair — made her heart skip a beat.

Shan's eyes widened, her pulse quickening with alarm. "Who are these people?" she demanded, her voice betraying her fear. She knew there was no way she could stand up to three grown men on her own, not in a real fight.

"Shan, it's my dad!" She called out, her voice filled with relief and happiness. She sprinted towards her father, her feet barely touching the ground, and Ian's arms spread wide to welcome her. She crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"Megan, thank God you're safe," Ian whispered, holding his daughter close, his voice thick with emotion.

He gently pulled back, looking into her eyes with a reassuring smile. "We need to head home and call your school, so they don't worry about your disappearance."

The next night was restless for all members of the Paragons, as well as for other students and teachers at Xavier's Institute. Ben was consumed with thoughts of how to convince someone from the X-Men to take him to Wales. Megan's father's assurances that everything was perfectly fine failed to ease his mind. Nicholas sat on the school's rooftop, wondering if, instead of returning to help Hope, he had gone with Shan, he might have been able to stop the trench-coated man from kidnapping his teammates. Hope lay in the infirmary, staring at the ceiling. Henry McCoy had asked her to stay for a few hours under observation. She still couldn't leave her body, or perhaps she was just too terrified after what had happened when she was mysteriously frozen in place.

Meanwhile, Jessica wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the dormitory. Her insomonia was not caused by racing thoughts, like her friends, but by a nagging feeling that something important was about to happen that night. She had visited every floor of the dorm and, unnoticed, slipped outside to wander the school's garden, bathed in cold moonlight. Statues of the X-Men who had died over the years seemed larger and much more foreboding than they did during the day. The silver glow of the moon and long black shadows snaking across the grass gave them a surreal, dreamlike appearance. Jessica sat on a bench, turning her face towards the moon, and closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the night wash over her: a TV blaring from one of the dorm rooms, a distant airplane flying overhead. Nothing unusual — she thought. But suddenly, a familiar sensation washed over her — another vision was coming.

"What the hell is happening…" she thought, bracing herself.

The images struck her mind with brutal intensity. She collapsed onto her knees, overwhelmed by the force of the visions. Thousands of images flashed before her eyes, unconnected and chaotic. Some were familiar from her last vision in the amusement park, but many were new: a dark room filled with shadowy creatures, three young men walking through a forest of flickering lights, a snowstorm and two people fighting for survival, a beautiful garden with strange vegetation, an old woman lighting a candle on the moors, a proud woman with eyes cold as ice, a golden-haired man with a hand made of pure gold, a crazed old witch holding fire-breathing dogs on chains, a city full of sad-faced, strange people, a city burning and consumed by war, dusk falling over the entire planet, blood running down the wings of a butterfly, a limp hand wearing a sapphire ring, an old woman shutting wooden shutters and snuffing out a candle shaped like a human figure, a mysterious man sipping wine at a jet-black piano, drops of blood and wine mixing together, the touch of velvet, the scent of a meadow.

The intensity of the visions was unbearable. The images, sounds, scents, and tactile sensations swirled together into a chaotic vortex. Jessica wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to tear the visions off her body, to throw them on the ground and crush them beneath her feet. She had to act — do something — anything to make it stop. She stood up suddenly and started running, blindly, toward the school building. She stumbled through the hallways, trying to shake off the faces that seemed to be staring at her through every window and reflection: the golden-haired man, the unshaven man, the pale girl, the witch, the stern-faced man, and countless others who lurked behind every surface. Half-conscious, she found herself in front of the door to the art room. She grasped the handle, but it wouldn't budge. Jessica smiled faintly, noticing the glass panels in the door. Without hesitation, she threw herself at it, shattering the glass with her body and stumbling inside. Her hand bled, but she didn't care. She knew that only here could she purge the overwhelming force of the vision. She grabbed paints and brushes, and then she started painting — on the walls, the floors, the benches — every surface she could find. Each figure she painted, each scene and event, silenced one more vision, quieted one more voice. She couldn't stop painting until her mind was completely cleared. After several minutes, her creation was complete. A sprawling map covered the room, stretching across walls, floors, and benches, full of strange symbols and figures. Faces of men and women, young and old, stared out from the surfaces. At the center of it all was the portrait of a woman with red hair, pointed ears, and large butterfly wings. Her white dress stood out against the darker colors of the other figures. Jessica approached the portrait and struck it with her fist, smearing her own blood across the woman's pale gown. Then she slumped to the floor, exhausted but grateful that the vision had finally come to an end.