Chapter Nine: A Storm Brews
The war room of the mansion buzzed with low murmurs and the flickering hum of the holographic map hovering over the center table. The X-Men gathered in a tense circle—Storm, Cyclops, Jean, Hank, and the others—each carrying their own burden of exhaustion and resolve. Rogue and Logan entered together, their presence immediately drawing Charles Xavier's calm but piercing gaze.
"Good," Xavier said as they approached. "Now that we're all here, let's begin."
Cyclops stepped forward, his jaw tight as he adjusted the controls on the hologram, expanding its scope. The map zoomed out to reveal a web of blinking red dots. "These," he began, gesturing to the dots, "are confirmed Sentinel sightings over the past forty-eight hours. The numbers are increasing exponentially, and they're getting smarter. The incident last night only confirms what we've suspected—their programming is evolving."
"They're not just targeting mutants anymore," Hank added, his voice grave. "The patterns suggest they're targeting human allies as well—activists, politicians, researchers. Anyone who publicly supports mutant rights is now at risk."
Rogue's stomach tightened. She glanced at Logan, who was staring at the map with a dark intensity. The implications were clear: the Sentinels weren't just hunting them—they were dismantling their entire support system.
"What about Liam?" Rogue asked, breaking the silence. "He's just a kid. Are they gonna come after him again?"
Jean leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Liam's unique, Rogue. Whatever they detected in him—it's why they attacked. We need to figure out why he's a target."
"And fast," Logan added, his tone rough. "Because if last night's attack was just a warm-up, we're in for one hell of a fight."
Charles nodded, his fingers steepled as he considered their words. "I've been monitoring Liam's condition," he said. "His mutation is… unusual. It's latent, but powerful—like a dam holding back a flood. The Sentinels must have detected that potential. They see him as a threat, even if he doesn't yet understand his own abilities."
"So we train him," Cyclops said firmly. "We prepare him for what's coming."
"He's a child," Storm interjected, her tone cool but fierce. "He shouldn't have to carry that weight. None of us should."
"But he doesn't have a choice," Logan growled, crossing his arms. "None of us did."
The room fell silent, the weight of Logan's words settling over them like a heavy cloak.
Charles finally broke the tension, his voice steady. "Scott is right. Liam needs to understand his abilities, but we will not force him to fight. He deserves the chance to grow into his powers at his own pace. For now, our priority is his safety."
Jean touched the edge of the map, causing it to shift to a different view—a series of abandoned warehouses on the outskirts of a city. "We've identified a possible Sentinel production facility here," she said. "It's heavily guarded, but if we can infiltrate it, we might be able to gather intel on their plans—and shut it down."
"I'll go," Logan said immediately.
"You'll need backup," Cyclops said. "I'll come with you."
The two men exchanged a glance—tense but not hostile. It was an unspoken truce for the sake of the mission.
"Count me in," Rogue said, stepping forward.
Logan turned to her, his brow furrowing. "Rogue—"
"I'm going," she said firmly, cutting him off. "I'm not sitting on the sidelines while you two risk your necks. I can handle myself."
Logan's jaw worked as though he wanted to argue, but he saw the determination in her eyes and relented with a nod.
"Then it's settled," Charles said. "The three of you will leave tonight. The rest of us will remain here to protect Liam and continue gathering information."
As the meeting adjourned, Rogue lingered in the room, her gaze fixed on the holographic map. Logan approached her, his boots heavy against the hardwood floor.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low.
She turned to face him, her expression resolute. "Yeah. I'm sure. You said it yourself—this is the fight we didn't ask for, but it's ours anyway. I'm not gonna sit back and let the world burn."
He studied her for a moment, his dark eyes searching hers. "Just… stay close to me out there, all right? These missions can go sideways fast."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "I'm not exactly known for keeping my distance, Logan."
He smirked, shaking his head. "Guess not."
Night fell quickly, a cold wind sweeping across the mansion grounds as Rogue, Logan, and Cyclops prepared to leave. They loaded into the Blackbird, its sleek frame gleaming in the moonlight.
Cyclops took the pilot's seat, the controls lighting up as he initiated takeoff. Rogue and Logan strapped in behind him, the hum of the engines vibrating through their seats.
"Approaching target in thirty minutes," Cyclops said over the intercom as the jet rose into the sky.
The ride was silent, save for the steady thrum of the engines. Rogue glanced at Logan, who sat with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the horizon. She could feel the tension radiating off him, and it mirrored her own.
"Logan," she said softly, breaking the silence.
He turned to her, one brow raised.
"Back at the mansion," she began, choosing her words carefully. "What you said—about caring. I just… I just wanted you to know it means a lot. To me."
He held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Same here, kid. Now let's make sure we get through this in one piece."
The facility loomed ahead, its dark silhouette illuminated by spotlights and the occasional spark of electricity from the high fences. The Blackbird landed in a secluded clearing, and the team disembarked, their breaths visible in the frigid air.
Cyclops led the way, his visor glowing faintly in the dark. Logan followed close behind, his claws ready, with Rogue bringing up the rear.
"Stay sharp," Cyclops murmured. "We're going in quiet."
Rogue nodded, her senses on high alert. Every shadow seemed to shift, every sound amplified.
They reached the fence, Logan making quick work of the barrier with his claws. They slipped inside, moving like phantoms through the maze of crates and machinery.
As they approached the main building, Rogue felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She turned, her eyes scanning the darkness.
"Logan," she whispered.
He stopped, his claws extending with a metallic snikt. "What is it?"
Before she could answer, the ground shook violently, a deafening roar splitting the air. A massive Sentinel burst from the shadows, its eyes glowing red as it locked onto them.
"Ambush!" Cyclops shouted, firing a blast from his visor.
The battle erupted in a blur of chaos and light. Rogue felt the adrenaline surge through her veins as she dodged the Sentinel's massive arm, her powers flaring as she absorbed the strength from a fallen guard.
Logan leaped onto the Sentinel, his claws slashing at its joints. "Get to the control room!" he shouted to Cyclops and Rogue. "I'll hold this tin can off!"
"No way," Rogue yelled back, throwing herself into the fight.
The three of them worked in brutal harmony, but the Sentinel was relentless. As the battle raged on, Rogue felt a clarity she hadn't felt before. This was her fight, her purpose—and she wouldn't back down.
No matter the cost.