A Week Later
The scream caught in Naruto's throat as he sat bolt upright in bed. Sheets soaked with cold sweat clung to his skin, and his heart pounded as if trying to break free from his chest. In the dim light of his room at Xavier's School, the jinchuriki felt the remnants of his nightmare clinging to the edges of his consciousness like sticky cobwebs.
With trembling fingers, the blond ran a hand across his face, feeling tears mixing with sweat.
"Just a dream," he whispered, but the words sounded hollow and unconvincing in the night's silence.
Lowering his feet to the floor, the young shinobi winced-his bare soles touched the cold surface. This sensation, however, was almost pleasant-it grounded him, returning him to reality. The young ninja approached the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. His breath left a light mist on the surface, blurring the view of the school grounds bathed in moonlight.
Autumn in Vermont outside the window seemed alien and unwelcoming. The Nine-Tails carrier longed for the warmth and brightness of Konoha, for familiar faces and sounds. Here, in this world of mutants and superpowers, he felt more alone than ever.
A sudden decision came to him like a gust of wind.
"Need to get out of here," thought the visitor from another world, pulling on his familiar orange jacket. With one fluid movement, he flung open the window, leaped over the sill, and landed silently on the grass.
Finding himself on the lawn, Naruto breathed deeply, catching the scents of fallen leaves and damp earth. For a moment, he imagined he smelled the spicy aroma of the forests surrounding Konoha. The thermometer on the school wall showed just 41F, but for a shinobi accustomed to extreme conditions, this was merely a minor inconvenience.
His gaze slid to the dark mass of forest at the edge of the school grounds. There, barely discernible in the shadow of the trees, stood a familiar figure. The master of shadow cloning would recognize his friend and rival anywhere.
As he approached, the jinchuriki noticed that his friend was also dressed for summer weather.
"Can't sleep?" asked Naruto, standing beside him. His voice sounded hoarse after the nightmare.
"Hn," came the familiar response from the skilled swordsman. In that short sound, the blond detected echoes of his own longing and restlessness.
They stood in silence, looking at the forest. The wind rustled through the treetops, whose leaves were beginning to turn red and gold.
"I'm going to walk to town," the unpredictable ninja finally said.
His companion shot him a brief glance. Something flickered in those dark eyes-understanding, perhaps, or a reflection of his own desire to escape. The silent ninja said nothing, but Naruto knew-he would go with him.
Without further thought, the jinchuriki leaped forward. Chakra, obedient to his will, concentrated in his legs, allowing him to soar above the first trees. The young shinobi felt adrenaline surge through his blood, chasing away the remnants of fear and uncertainty. In this moment, he was himself-Uzumaki Naruto, not just a strange teenager in a world where ninjutsu was considered just another mutation.
The experienced shinobi followed the blond through the night forest. Their movements were quick and precise-years of training showing their effect. The cool autumn wind hit their faces, helping to clear their heads of troubling thoughts.
The visitors from another dimension moved silently, jumping from branch to branch. The landscape became increasingly wild: steep slopes gave way to deep ravines. Sometimes they stopped on high ground to get their bearings. From there, they could see the surrounding mountains covered in autumn foliage.
Along the way, they encountered small villages hidden among the hills. Old wooden houses and churches with white towers seemed torn from another era.
Reaching the Hudson River, the shinobi saw the first signs of the metropolis. The bright lights of skyscrapers contrasted sharply with the darkness of the forest they were leaving. Stopping at the edge of the woods, the Nine-Tails carrier grimaced at the smell of exhaust fumes already detectable in the air.
The center of New York never slept. Naruto walked through Times Square, squinting at the bright signs. Passersby hurried by-tourists with cameras, businesspeople rushing to appointments, noisy groups of teenagers. Uchiha kept close, carefully surveying the street.
Uzumaki clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. After the quiet of Xavier's school, the city noise was deafening: the screech of brakes, fragments of conversations, music from bar doorways-all blending into a continuous hum.
"So many people," he said loudly so Sasuke could hear him.
He nodded, maintaining his vigilant expression. His hand instinctively moved to his waist, where his sword used to hang.
The wail of a police siren made the jinchuriki jump. He remembered his recent trip with Rogue: the cramped car interior, honking horns, the flashing headlights of oncoming cars. Nausea rose in his throat. The exhaust fumes, which the young shinobi thought he had grown accustomed to, seemed suffocating again.
Before his eyes flashed the faces of people from the basement refuge-exhausted, frightened. Fugitives like himself and the Sharingan wielder, except they were pursued not by enemies but by their own society.
On the street corner loomed a Sentinel. Its metallic body reflected the light of advertisements, and its scanning head slowly turned from side to side. They walked past, not raising their eyes-like other pedestrians, accustomed to the presence of robot patrols.
In the Japanese quarter, the smell of fried noodles filled the air. The few passersby conversed quietly in Japanese. The Nine-Tails carrier heard familiar words and felt his throat tighten.
His stomach growled loudly. Naruto felt embarrassed and pressed his hand against his belly.
"I think I'm hungry," mumbled the blond, avoiding the dark-haired shinobi's gaze.
To his surprise, Sasuke showed no irritation. He simply said:
"I have money."
"Money?" he repeated, his voice faltering. "Where did you get it?"
The experienced shinobi was momentarily silent, his gaze becoming distant.
"Long story. But let's just say they fell into my hands."
The young ninja felt a chill run down his spine. He knew the skilled swordsman well enough to understand: behind those words lay something more. But part of him didn't want to know the details.
"Well, if you have money..." the visitor from another world tried to smile, but the smile came out crooked. "Let's eat before they disappear as quickly as they appeared."
They headed to the nearest open restaurant.
The doorbell's chime sounded unexpectedly loud in the quiet of the night establishment. Naruto felt the customers' eyes on him as he and the silent ninja entered. The dim lamp light created an illusion of comfort, but the noisy shinobi couldn't shake the feeling that he had intruded into someone else's world.
The shadow clone master's fingers nervously drummed on the tabletop when they sat down. The approaching waiter caused a sudden dryness in his mouth. The unpredictable ninja swallowed and, trying to speak confidently, said:
"Ramen, please. And... sake."
The waiter frowned, his gaze lingering on the whisker marks on the blond's cheeks.
"And... can I have sliced tomatoes on the side?" he added, glancing quickly at his friend.
"Excuse me, sir, but how old are you?"
The question hit like a blow. The jinchuriki felt his face flush. He was a shinobi, had fought in wars, but here they considered him a child?
"Eighteen," he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
The waiter shook his head, his smile polite but with slight annoyance in his eyes.
"Sorry, but we only serve alcohol to customers twenty-one and older."
The Nine-Tails carrier felt something tighten in his chest. Another reminder of how foreign he was here. He lowered his eyes, fingers nervously fidgeting with the menu edge.
"Then just ramen and tomatoes," he mumbled, returning the menu to the waiter.
Waiting for their order seemed an eternity. Naruto felt his companion's gaze on him but couldn't bring himself to look up. Instead, he watched condensation drops sliding down his water glass. His gaze involuntarily drifted to the wall clock: three-thirty in the morning.
When the ramen bowl was finally placed before the blond, he froze momentarily. The steam rising from the hot broth enveloped his face in a warm cloud, and for a second, he felt he had returned home. The smell of garlic, ginger, and soy sauce triggered a flood of memories that caught his breath.
The young shinobi remembered the small ramen bar in Konoha, cozy evenings after training, friends' laughter. The memories were so vivid that for a moment, the New York restaurant dissolved, giving way to the familiar streets of his native village.
But the illusion lasted only a moment. Reality rushed back with renewed force as the visitor from another dimension brought the chopsticks to his lips.
"Itadakimasu," he whispered, and this simple word sounded like a prayer, an attempt to hold onto fading memories.
The first sip of broth burned his tongue, and the blond winced. The taste was familiar, but somehow wrong. The broth seemed too salty, the noodles too soft. Each difference from the familiar taste was like a small jab, reminding him how far he was from home.
The unpredictable ninja ate slowly, mechanically, as if performing a ritual. Each piece of meat, each spoonful of broth brought not satiation but a strange feeling of emptiness. The food filled his stomach but left his soul hungry.
The shadow clone master's gaze fell on the plate of sliced tomatoes. He reached for a slice, feeling the cool juice dripping down his fingers. The taste of the tomato, both sour and sweet, strangely calmed him. It was something simple, understandable, requiring no explanation.
Naruto looked at his friend, silently chewing his portion. In this moment, the young shinobi felt a strange unity with his friend. They were both strangers here, but together.
From the corner of his eye, the jinchuriki noticed movement in the restaurant's corner. The establishment's owner, an elderly Japanese man with graying temples, reached for a small television hanging from the ceiling. The screen flickered, and the room filled with the muted sounds of Japanese speech.
Naruto froze with chopsticks in hand, not bringing the noodles to his mouth. Something incredible was unfolding on screen: bright colors, fluid movements, characters with huge expressive eyes fighting, using some fantastic abilities. The broth in his bowl slowly cooled, but he seemed to have completely forgotten about the food.
"Sasuke," whispered the Nine-Tails carrier, nudging his friend with his elbow. "Do you see this?"
The Sharingan wielder cast a fleeting glance at the screen and returned to his tomatoes, demonstratively maintaining an indifferent expression.
"Hn," he responded with his trademark sound.
But the young shinobi couldn't look away. On screen, a girl with pink hair transformed into some magical creature, accompanied by impressive light effects.
"How do they do that?" mumbled the blond to himself.
The jinchuriki noticed how Sasuke, thinking no one could see, glanced sideways at the screen. His chopsticks paused over his plate whenever something particularly spectacular happened in the anime.
"Ah, so you're interested too!" Naruto exclaimed triumphantly, grinning widely.
"Don't talk nonsense," he turned away. "I was just checking if there was anything suspicious."
The elderly owner, wiping the counter nearby, smirked, clearly understanding from their accent that they were Japanese.
"First time watching anime?" he asked in Japanese.
"Ani... what?" asked Naruto, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
The owner raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Animation. Cartoons," he explained. "This is 'Sailor Moon.' A classic of the genre."
The unpredictable ninja understood nothing, but he nodded with such enthusiasm that he nearly knocked over his water glass. The skilled swordsman caught it with lightning-fast movement, preventing it from spilling.
"Be careful," muttered the experienced shinobi, but his eyes darted back to the screen, where another heroine transformation was beginning.
"Look, look!" the visitor from another world practically bounced in his chair. "She has something like chakra around her body! And those movements... they look like hand seals!"
"They're just drawings," Sasuke noted dryly, but a note of interest crept into his voice.
The shadow clone master broke into a sly smile.
"Yeah, sure. That's why you've been holding the same tomatoes with your chopsticks for five minutes and staring at the screen?"
The silent ninja immediately lowered his chopsticks and turned away.
"I was just thinking."
"About how she does that thing with the wand?" teased the noisy shinobi.
"Shut up and eat your ramen," his companion snapped, but without real anger in his voice.
The Nine-Tails carrier laughed, for the first time that evening genuinely and easily. There was something particularly amusing about how the great and proud Sharingan wielder tried to hide his interest in the drawn adventures of a magical girl.
The owner, watching their bickering, shook his head with a good-natured smile and turned up the volume. Now the Japanese voices of the characters sounded clearer, creating a strange sense of home in this foreign world. Familiar intonations and expressions in their native language, even coming from animated characters, had a calming effect.
The young ninja finally remembered his ramen and hurriedly scooped up the cold broth with a spoon. Even the tasteless food didn't seem so bad now. The blond continued to glance at the screen, unable to hide his admiration for this art form new to him.
Hank McCoy sat in the laboratory, bent over his workbench. The desk lamp's light reflected in his glasses as the scientist studied the school's defense system blueprints. A half-finished glass of whiskey stood nearby.
"So, if we increase the radius of action by fifteen percent, we can cover the southern part of the territory," he muttered, making notes on the blueprint. "But this will require additional energy... Perhaps use solar panels?"
Beast took a sip of whiskey and shifted his attention to another blueprint.
"Target recognition system. Need to improve accuracy. Maybe integrate technology based on 'Cerebro'?"
Rising from the table, the mutant genius approached the window and looked at the dark outlines of trees surrounding the school. Returning to work, he picked up a prototype of a new turret.
"Increasing power without losing accuracy-that's the main task," Hank said.
Suddenly, he was interrupted by the piercing sound of a siren. The scientist froze.
That signal...
A special code they had developed in case of detection.
The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor.
"They're here..."
The genius inventor rushed to the computer, quickly typing commands to launch the defense systems.
"Computer, activate 'Omega' protocol," he commanded. "Send signal to all team members. This is not a drill!"
The screen before Beast lit up red: "Activate general alarm? Y/N". For a moment, his fingers hovered over the keyboard. In his memory flashed the events of five years ago: screams, panic, frightened children's faces, a wall of smoke and fire.
Hank pressed the "Y" key. The siren wailed, tearing through the school's night silence. Chaos erupted in the bedrooms-students jumped from their beds, knocking over chairs and dropping books.
Charles froze over a document in his office. Pressing his fingers to his temples, the telepath instantly encompassed the building with his mind, sensing every frightened consciousness.
"Attention everyone," the professor's mental voice penetrated everyone's awareness. "Begin evacuation. Teachers, escort the younger classes to the assembly points."
Turning his wheelchair, Xavier rolled into the corridor, finding himself at the epicenter of panic. The sound of footsteps, screams, and the smell of fear filled the space. The wise mentor radiated calm, his presence itself soothing the students. Guiding his wheelchair through the crowd, he helped the children move more organized and collected.
Kitty raced through the building, phasing through walls. Near a closed door, the young mutant noticed a group of younger students. Kneeling before the frightened children, she quickly organized them into a chain. The children firmly held hands, and the mutant led the group right through the closed door, maintaining their pace.
The siren tore Bobby from sleep. A second of disorientation-and reality crashed down with the realization: this was no drill.
"Damn!" Iceman jumped up, pulling on his pants with trembling hands. "Not again..."
Around him, roommates were rushing about, some screaming, some frantically searching for belongings. The young mutant quickly grabbed a backpack with emergency supplies, trying to get the attention of his panicking comrades.
In the corridor, chaos reigned, but suddenly the siren quieted, replaced by a mechanical voice:
"All students to the command post. Teachers conduct evacuation of children through tunnels to the forest."
Bobby ran down the corridor, directing younger students to the shelter. His palms were covered with frost-a sure sign of stress.
Bursting into the command center, the cryokinetic saw the team already gathered. Cyclops was bent over a holographic display.
Deep inside, the team leader knew-this day had to come.
Scott quickly analyzed the situation on the display. This moment required decisive action. The commander's demanding gaze stopped on Hank, waiting for a report.
Beast stepped to the table.
"Sentinels are flying from the east. Twenty minutes until contact. Charles is coordinating evacuation through the tunnels."
Cyclops nodded briefly. Twenty minutes-enough to deploy defenses. His tense gaze darted to the defense systems, assessing readiness.
Out of the corner of his eye, the X-Men leader noticed Jean-her red hair slightly disheveled, the telekinetic's eyes burning with power. In recent years, her might had grown exponentially.
"I've reprogrammed the Sentinels' AI," reported Hank. "Turrets in autonomous mode. This will give us an advantage."
Scott surveyed the team. Everyone was ready for battle.
"We go to the front line together. Hank, coordinate from here. The rest with me."
The squad lined up in front of the school. Heavy clouds hung over the battlefield, the wind strengthening. Logan inhaled, extending his claws:
"They're close."
Colossus stood motionless, ready for battle. Rogue hovered nearby, fists clenched. Iceman and Nightcrawler took the flanks.
"Hold formation," commanded the leader, placing his hand on his visor.
The silhouettes of mechanical giants rose on the horizon-ten-meter death machines approached with frightening synchronicity, their optical sensors blazing crimson.
The first steel colossus crossed the perimeter. At that moment, space filled with the hum of activating turrets. Dozens of energy weapons, hidden around the school's perimeter, awakened simultaneously. Bright beams cut through the sky, rushing toward the approaching adversaries.
The attack caught the titanium colossi by surprise. Several war machines staggered under the barrage, their armor melting under the concentrated energy.
"Don't relax!" growled Wolverine.
The robots opened return fire. Space filled with the whistling of projectiles and the roar of explosions; the ground beneath the defenders' feet shuddered. Rogue soared upward, ready to meet the enemy face to face; her fears remained somewhere far below, giving way to determination to protect those she had learned to call family.
Cyclops sharply ordered:
"Jean, air cover!"
The telepath nodded. Her eyes flashed with inner light as she rose into the air. Around her danced debris lifted by the power of her mind. With a sharp gesture, she directed huge chunks of earth at the approaching mechanical adversaries.
The first attack was successful. Two steel giants fell under the weight of the crashing mass. The body of the first crumpled, forming deep cracks from which sparks flew. The second received a crushing blow to the head, destroying its sensors.
"Short stuff, how about a fastball?" said the Russian strongman.
Logan grinned, looking at his comrade. The steel giant grabbed him with powerful arms and threw him with incredible force straight into the war machine's chest.
Claws pierced the protective casing with a deafening clang. Using them as tools, he began cutting his way inside. Titanium plates screeched and bent, sparks showered down. Soon, a ragged hole gaped in the enemy's chest, exposing its innards.
Iceman erected massive ice barriers, protecting his comrades from enemy fire. The crystalline walls cracked and melted under energy beams, but the young cryokinetic tirelessly restored the defenses. Noticing a mechanical giant approaching from the left, he warned the leader.
Cyclops reacted instantaneously. The crimson beam from his visor slammed into the steel giant's neck, burning a deep furrow in the casing. The machine staggered but continued moving.
Rogue didn't miss the moment. From height, she crashed into the damaged area. Titanium plates crumpled, and the battle colossus's head separated from the body. Without wasting time, the mutant caught it and launched it at another opponent, knocking it off its feet.
Nightcrawler moved between the iron giants, leaving a trail of blue smoke.
"Colossus, behind you!" exclaimed the blue-skinned mutant.
The Russian giant turned and met the attacking robot with a crushing blow. The armored fist dented the enemy's protective casing. Smoke poured from the resulting cracks, and the mechanical giant tottered.
At this moment, Jean detected alarming changes-the machines' systems were adapting to their tactics. She mentally conveyed the observation to the commander.
"Logan, Colossus-target the enemy's legs! Rogue, Jean-attack from above! Bobby, turn the field into an ice rink!"
The cryokinetic covered the ground with an icy crust. The first steel giant lost balance and fell, shaking the surroundings. Wolverine and Colossus rushed to the war machines' limbs: adamantium claws tore through hydraulics, while the steel giant crushed a knee mechanism.
In the sky, Rogue and Jean coordinated joint actions. The telepath created fractures in the protective casing, while her partner delivered devastating blows to the weakened zones. Kurt flickered between titanium adversaries, diverting their attention and creating opportunities for his comrades' attacks.
Scott directed the squad's actions, his energy salvos accurately hitting vulnerable spots discovered by his teammates.
Despite the defenders' coordinated actions, the mechanical giants continued their advance. Their number seemed not to decrease-each fallen adversary was replaced by a new one emerging from the night gloom.
"We need something more serious!" growled Logan, ripping out a bunch of wires from a fallen machine's chest. His face was covered with oil stains and soot.
The leader understood his comrade's rightness. The battle was only gaining momentum, and they had to find a way to turn the tide of the confrontation.
Hank's voice in the communicators reported discovered weaknesses in the battle machines' design after analyzing data from the turrets.
"Lay it on us, Beast! Any advantage is worth its weight in gold!" exclaimed Scott, dodging an energy salvo.
"Power source in the lower back. Damage it-and they'll shut down."
The commander rapidly assessed the situation and issued new instructions: Jean and Rogue would divert attention, Bobby would form ice ramps, Logan and Colossus would become the strike force, and Kurt would provide operational movement.
The defenders regrouped with lightning speed. The telepath soared upward, her psychokinetic attacks now aimed at the steel giants' heads, scattering their attention. Rogue followed her friend-superhuman strength allowed her to deliver crushing blows to the upper segments of the enemy.
The cryokinetic began creating an intricate network of ice constructions.
"Hey, big guy!" he called to Colossus. "How about an ice slide?"
The Russian giant instantly caught the idea. The ice ramp allowed him to accelerate and take flight. Gaining speed, he crashed into the nearest robot's back with tremendous force. The titanium casing crumpled under the onslaught, and the mechanical giant fell, sparking with damaged systems.
Wolverine also acted without delay. Using the ice platforms as support, he climbed onto the iron colossi.
"Time for acupuncture, bastards!" growled Logan, plunging his claws into vulnerable spots.
Kurt teleported between comrades, providing instant delivery to key points.
"Hold on!" he said, grabbing Wolverine and transferring him to another opponent's back.
Cyclops continued coordinating the group's actions. His energy salvos now precisely hit the discovered weak spots. He directed Jean to the left, Rogue to protect Bobby, while Kurt handled evacuation.
The battle gained new dynamics. The defenders moved as a single organism: each understood their role and complemented their comrades' actions.
Hovering over the battlefield, Jean telepathically warned Scott-the war machines were rebuilding, covering vulnerable zones.
"Change tactics!" commanded the leader. "Bobby, increase chaos on the field! Logan, Colossus-work as a team: one distracts, the other strikes! Rogue, become a battering ram-break their formation!"
Iceman immediately created an ice labyrinth around the mechanical executioners. The steel giants, trying to overcome obstacles, lost balance and became vulnerable to attack.
The two mighty fighters worked together without words. Colossus tossed Logan onto the iron adversaries, while attacking their support structures himself. Wolverine, finding himself on target, dug his claws into the control systems, while his partner distracted attention from below.
The war machines continued perfecting their defense, their salvos becoming more accurate and coordinated. Unexpectedly, one of the robots released a swarm of miniature drones that rushed to attack.
"Damn it!" Cyclops hissed. "Jean, Bobby-neutralize the drones! The rest-stick to the plan!"
The telepath formed a protective dome, reflecting the flying devices' attacks, while her comrade froze them in groups. But this diverted their attention from the main confrontation.
One of the Sentinels broke through the defense, heading toward the school. Its armor sparked from damage, but the systems still functioned.
"Together!" Cyclops's cry merged with the battle's roar.
Jean telekinetically tossed Colossus and Logan onto the robot's back. Rogue crashed down from above, putting all her superhuman strength into the blow. The red beam from Cyclops's visor pierced the weakened armor, and the mechanical monster collapsed a meter from the school building, raising a cloud of dust and debris.
When the dust settled, the battlefield presented a picture of complete destruction. Smoking remnants of robots littered the ground; the air smelled of ozone and burning metal. The X-Men stood amid this chaos-wounded but undefeated.
Logan emerged from under the debris of the last Sentinel, shaking off metal chips:
"Not a bad warm-up," he growled with a smirk.
The victorious relief lasted only a moment. The first sign was a high-frequency sound similar to electromagnetic interference. Defense systems began to fail-communicators crackled with white noise, turret displays randomly flickered.
Wolverine twitched, his enhanced hearing detecting increasing frequencies:
"Something's approaching," he said through clenched teeth. "Smells like ozone and hot metal."
Automatic turrets began to rotate, servomotors emitting mechanical screeching. The scientist's voice in the earpieces sounded extremely collected:
"Multiple failures in the defense system. Looks like directed EMP impact. They're jamming..." the connection broke.
A series of explosions rolled around the forest perimeter. Defense systems shut down one after another. In the ensuing silence, the team heard the characteristic sound of jet engines-but not the heavy roar of old Sentinels, rather the high-pitched whistle of new technology.
Dark silhouettes burst from the smoke-streamlined, compact, with improved armor that changed configuration during movement. They were half the size of previous models, but their movements showed frightening speed and precision.
Cyclops barely managed to command retreat when one of the Sentinels covered fifty meters in fractions of a second. Its blow sent Colossus flying-for the first time in the entire battle, the steel giant couldn't remain standing.
Rogue instantly rushed to her falling comrade, but two Sentinels intercepted the mutant in mid-air. Their movements were perfectly synchronized-the first blocked her arms, the second fixed her legs. She tried to break free, using her super strength, but the machines' grip was calculated with frightening accuracy.
Logan rushed to help, extending his claws. The third Sentinel reacted instantly-grab, block, strike. Metal fingers closed around the fighter's throat. The adamantium skeleton didn't save him from injury-his trachea flattened under pressure. His body was thrown twenty meters, leaving a deep furrow in the ground. He didn't move, having lost consciousness.
Nightcrawler tried to teleport to his fallen comrade, but something went wrong during the movement. He was enveloped by a strange interference field and materialized ten meters from his target, doubled over in sharp pain.
"Was... Was ist das?" rasped the teleporter, trying to focus his vision. The Sentinels somehow affected his abilities.
Iceman roared. An ice wall three meters thick grew between the team and the opponent. The temperature around dropped to minus forty. The Sentinels' hulls heated to white-hot, 1500 degrees Celsius. The ice evaporated in 0.3 seconds. Bobby retreated, his hands trembling.
The leader removed his visor's limiter. A red beam with 50 kilojoules of power pierced the air. The Sentinel moved 15 centimeters to the left. The beam missed the target, slicing tree crowns 200 meters behind.
Jean raised her hands, concentrating on creating a protective field. The air around the team condensed, forming an invisible barrier. The Sentinels began a methodical attack-blow after blow, each stronger than the previous. Blood from her nose dripped onto her costume. She gritted her teeth, trying to maintain the shield, but her hands began to shake from overexertion.
Kurt tried to teleport again, now to the restrained Rogue, but the interference field intensified. He collapsed to the ground, blood flowing from his ears. The Sentinels had calculated and neutralized his ability.
Suddenly the attacks ceased. The Sentinels lined up in a semicircle, holding the captive in the center, their eyes unwaveringly watching the mutants. On the horizon appeared new silhouettes-even more Sentinels.
Wolverine, coming to, slowly rose to his feet. His throat still hurt with each breath. He assessed the opponent-their speed, precision, tactical formation. Everything indicated that old combat methods were useless here.
The new Sentinels stopped, forming a second row. One of them stepped forward, its body transforming, forming a strange weapon. But instead of attacking, the robot created a holographic projection-before them appeared the face of a man every mutant hated: Bolivar Trask.
"Hello, X-Men. Allow me to introduce you to the Sentinel Mark X," Trask's voice dripped with venom. "Specially for those who consider themselves humanity's protectors. Each is designed for a specific mutant."
He leaned forward, the hologram clearly showing the maniacal gleam in his eyes. "After your school, we will clean out all refuges. One by one. This isn't war, X-Men. This is disinfection."
The hologram dissolved. In the viscous silence came the characteristic sound of transforming metal-the Sentinels stepped forward in sync, their optical systems flaring orange.
"Fucking bastard!" growled Wolverine, clenching bloodied fists.
Rogue, trapped between two machines, felt titanium fingers digging into her body until it cracked. Each attempt to break free only increased the pressure. Nightcrawler, staggering, rose to shaky feet, blood seeping from his ears-the interference field was slowly killing his brain.
Jean shook her head, uncontrolled fire splashing in her eyes:
"Oh God..." her voice trembled with the horror of understanding what was happening.
Cyclops grabbed the telepath's shoulders: "Hold on, Jean. We..."
He didn't finish. The Sentinels attacked in a united front. The first blow to the telekinetic shield was so powerful that blood gushed not only from the girl's nose but also from her ears. She screamed in pain but continued holding the defense.
Logan, with a primal roar, lunged forward. The Sentinel moved like quicksilver-impossibly fast. The mutant didn't even see the transformation moment-just suddenly felt something cold entering his chest cavity. The blade pierced his lungs, tore his heart. Blood gushed from his throat, flooding his chest. The machine yanked out the blade and hurled him into a tree. The crack of breaking bones mingled with the crunch of wood. Wolverine collapsed like a lifeless puppet, his regeneration failing to cope with the injuries for the first time.
The Sentinels holding the captive synchronously strengthened their grip. One began slowly transforming its hand. In horror, Rogue watched as the robot's fingers turned into a vibrating blade. Time stretched, as in a nightmare.
The first cut was so fast she didn't even feel pain. She just saw a fountain of red blood and her left arm falling to the ground. Shock came a second later, along with a wave of all-consuming agony. Her scream was more like an animal howl. Blood gushed from the stump, drenching the Sentinels' metal hands. Her vision darkened, and her body went limp in the steel grip.
Scott desperately unleashed a full-power beam, aiming at the Sentinel holding the wounded woman. But the machine acted with diabolical calculation-turning the bleeding victim directly into the path of the strike. The leader managed to redirect the beam skyward at the last moment. His hands trembled with powerless rage.
A Sentinel broke through the telepath's shield. The blow was so strong that her body was thrown like a rag doll. Jean hit the ground with a wet crunch and lay motionless, her red hair slowly staining with blood from her shattered skull.
"JEAN!" Cyclops's cry was filled with such despair that even the Sentinels momentarily froze. He rushed to his beloved, forgetting everything else-the battle, the danger, the team. In that moment, only she existed.
The metallic blade entered his body silently. The Sentinel appeared behind him so quickly that the commander didn't even understand what had happened. He tried to breathe, but his lungs filled with blood. The visor slipped from his face; his eyes, always burning with energy, grew dim. Scott fell to his knees, his hand still stretched toward Jean. Blood gushed from the wound, soaking into the earth. One more convulsive breath-and he collapsed face down.
Iceman watched his friend's fall in horror. His hands became covered with frost, the temperature around dropping sharply. Ice spears grew from the ground, trying to pierce the nearest Sentinel, but the machine simply heated its armor, and the ice evaporated without causing harm.
Colossus fought with the desperation of a cornered beast. Metal clanged against metal, sparks flying in all directions.
"Bitch! Fucking monsters!" he growled in Russian, throwing off another Sentinel. "Hold on!" But his voice already contained the desperation of a man backed into a corner.
Bobby created a massive ice wall, trying to protect his wounded comrades. His hands trembled from strain, sweat freezing on his face. The Sentinels methodically destroyed the barrier, each blow bringing them closer.
Kurt, overcoming hellish head pain, continued teleporting. Each movement was torture-as if his brain was being dragged through broken glass. But he couldn't stop.
"Logan, mein Freund, hang in there," his voice was hoarse with pain. The teleporter grabbed his unconscious comrade and moved behind a barricade of debris. Blood flowed from his ears, but he continued fighting.
The Sentinels attacked with merciless methodology. One broke through the Russian giant's defense. The blow was calculated perfectly-at the junction point of the metal form's plates. Piotr was thrown through the school wall. Even his steel body couldn't withstand it-for the first time, Colossus didn't rise after falling.
The young cryokinetic desperately tried to contain the machines' advance. He created more and more ice constructs, but they melted faster than he could restore them. His strength melted with the ice.
The exhausted teleporter made a fatal mistake. His foot twisted upon landing, and he materialized right in front of a Sentinel. The machine reacted instantly-grabbed him by the tail and with inhuman strength hurled him across the field. Nightcrawler crashed into the remains of the ice wall and went still.
Bobby remained alone. Around him lay his fallen comrades-unconscious Jean, dead Scott, bloodied Rogue, unconscious Logan and Kurt. His hands shook, his breath escaping in clouds of vapor. He continued creating ice, though understanding the futility of resistance.
The Sentinels suddenly froze, as if awaiting new orders. In the ensuing silence, the last defender's gaze darted between the bodies of his fallen comrades, until stopping on the commander's motionless body, whose hand was still stretched toward his unconscious beloved.
The doorbell chime announced their exit from the restaurant. It was cool outside, neon signs reflected in puddles. Suddenly, a low mechanical hum broke the night silence. Looking up at the sky, both shinobi saw an armada of Sentinels-dozens of metallic silhouettes moving in one direction, gleaming in the moonlight.
"Sasuke..." the jinchuriki began, but stopped short, seeing that his friend was already tensely scanning the sky.
Naruto felt a chill run down his spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The world around seemed to dissolve, giving way to energy flows.
Sage Mode activated instantly, and his sensory abilities expanded to their full potential. His consciousness, like a giant net, encompassed thousands of kilometers around. The young shinobi felt every living being, every pulse of energy.
And what he sensed made his heart clench with horror.
There, in the direction of the school, a true emotional storm raged. Waves of fear, pain, and despair rolled one after another. The sage felt nausea rising in his throat. He recognized the familiar auras of the X-Men, but they were distorted, as if someone was trying to destroy them.
Anger flared within him. Naruto opened his eyes. Without a word, he entered Kurama's chakra mode.
When the Nine-Tails carrier soared into the air, the asphalt beneath his feet cracked and crumbled for several meters around. The energy flow was so powerful that windows of nearby buildings trembled, and some even shattered.
Without wasting a second, Sasuke used the "Shinra Tensei" technique on himself and soared into the air after his partner.
They raced through New York's night sky, leaving behind a bright golden trail and flickering purple flashes. Below, on the streets, people stopped and pointed upward.
Naruto, maintaining his speed, created dozens of shadow clones. They scattered in different directions, attacking approaching Sentinels.
"Don't let them fall on the city!" shouted the jinchuriki to the clones, and they, nodding, began intercepting falling debris, taking them to safe places.
During the flight, the young shinobi's thoughts raced in his head. He was tormented by doubts and guilt.
"Kso! What's happening there? Why did I leave?"
Sensing his friend's state, the last of the Uchiha clan moved closer to him.
"Naruto," said Sasuke, his voice tense. "Whatever is there, we must be ready for anything."
His partner nodded.
"Yeah, I know, dattebayo!"
Suddenly his eyes widened-his sensory abilities detected a sharp surge of pain and despair. Someone was dying.
The golden glow around Naruto intensified. Kurama's chakra bubbled, saturating every cell of his body.
"Let's go, Sasuke!" he growled.
They broke the first sound barrier together. Uchiha, enveloped in purple energy, kept pace. Clouds parted before them, the air crackling with concentrated energy.
One hundred Mach. Two hundred.
The jinchuriki left a trail of golden flame behind him, his friend-a streak of purple lightning. At such speed, the city below them turned into a blur of lights.
Three hundred Mach.
The air around the shinobi ionized, forming a glowing tunnel. Two warriors flew shoulder to shoulder, transformed into living projectiles piercing the night sky.
The earth beneath them trembled from their passage, but they didn't slow down. Ahead, they could already see the glow above the school.
Consciousness returned to Rogue in waves, each bringing a new portion of pain. Where her left arm had been until recently, agony pulsed-not sharp and cutting, but dull and all-consuming, as if the very absence of the limb caused more suffering than the moment of its loss. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth mingled with the bitterness of bile rising to her throat.
She lay, feeling the cold earth greedily absorbing her blood. Moisture seeped through her clothing fabric, making her skin break out in goosebumps. Her vision was clouded, turning the world into a blurred canvas of gray and red spots, while a monotonous ringing grew in her ears, drowning out the sounds of battle.
Overcoming the pain, the wounded woman turned her head. Several meters away lay Scott-the man who had always seemed an unshakable pillar of their small family. Her throat tightened with approaching tears, but even crying was painful.
The Sentinels stood frozen like mechanical statues, their sensors dimly flickering in the battle smoke. Jean's red hair was scattered on the ground. Even Logan, with his regeneration, lay motionless.
Iceman sat on the ground with glassy eyes, staring at the frozen robots.
The world began to darken at the edges, like an old photograph fading in the sun. In these last moments of clear consciousness, memory helpfully offered images of the past: her mother's face, distorted by fear and disgust; her younger brother's carefree laughter, cut short on that fateful day; her father's eyes, where love fought with horror. Tears traced paths on her face covered with dirt and blood, burning fresh scratches with salty moisture.
Suddenly the world was illuminated by light, so bright it seeped even through closed eyelids. Blurred golden silhouettes moved at the periphery of vision, like sun reflections on a wall on a summer day. One of them stopped nearby, and through the veil of pain, the girl discerned familiar features, transformed by a strange amber glow.
Naruto bent over the wounded woman, enveloped in living flame that didn't burn but warmed. Black symbols flowed across his skin like living ink, pulsing in rhythm with his breathing. The young man's eyes glowed with inner light, but they showed human compassion.
"N-Naruto?" Rogue's voice was barely audible, but the shinobi smiled in response.
When his clone appeared with the severed limb, the mutant felt a new wave of nausea. But the healer's touch brought not pain but warmth-alive, pulsating, penetrating to the bone. A golden glow enveloped them both in a cocoon of light, and she watched with reverent horror as flesh regenerated, obeying his will.
The sensations were strange but not unpleasant-as if thousands of tiny sparks danced under her skin, restoring connections between nerves, fusing blood vessels, weaving muscle fibers. Fingers, lifeless until recently, twitched, obeying a mental command. The skin turned pink, filling with healthy color, and as the glow began to fade, the healed woman realized she could move her arm as if she had never lost it.
But most amazing was not the restoration, but that for the first time in many years, she felt another person's touch without fear of causing pain. The warmth of his palms on her skin was simple and natural, like the sunrise after a long night.
Consciousness returned to Logan in jerks, every nerve in his body screaming with pain. He remembered the blow-first the Sentinel's blade slicing his stomach to the spine, then the collision with the tree trunk. Even with his regeneration, such injuries didn't heal instantly.
The first thing the mutant heard through the ringing in his ears was a deafening roar that made the earth tremble. Wolverine struggled to open his eyes and froze, not believing what he saw.
Naruto hovered in the air, enveloped in golden flame. The jinchuriki's body seemed to have transformed into a living torch-chakra flowed across his skin in intricate patterns, eyes burning with inhuman light. Four gigantic arms, woven from pure energy, burst from his back.
"You..." the young man's voice had changed, with rumbling notes in it, "will touch no one else."
The first strike was lightning-fast. The energy hand closed around the nearest Sentinel's head and crushed it like an aluminum can. Metal screeched, sparks gushed in a fountain.
The second robot managed to activate protective protocols. Its armor heated white-hot, laser installations deployed for a salvo. Useless. The warrior's hand pierced the chest plate clean through, fingers closing around the pulsating energy core.
"For Scott," Naruto hissed, crushing the machine's heart.
The remaining Sentinels regrouped, their sensors pulsing red. A new battle formation-the very one that had seemed invincible just recently. Logan tried to stand, but his body still wouldn't obey.
At this moment, Sasuke entered the fray.
A purple lightning bolt cut through the air. Uchiha glided between opponents like a ghost, leaving a trail of electrical discharges. In his hand danced a blade of pure energy-not just electricity, but concentrated storm power compressed into sword form.
Three Sentinels surrounded the shinobi, activating flamethrowers. Fire engulfed the place where he stood, but Sasuke was already airborne. His left eye flared red.
"Amaterasu."
Black flames were born directly on the robots' armor. They devoured metal like paper, melted titanium plates like wax. Logan felt his hair stand on end from this fire-there was something primordial, inhuman about it.
Meanwhile, Naruto created an army of clones. They acted as a single organism-two would toss a Sentinel into the air, a third would meet it with a huge spiral sphere of pure energy.
"RASENGAN!" the cry of dozens of throats merged into one.
Energy balls bored into the machines' armor like circular saws. Metal couldn't withstand it-robots burst from within, scattering debris and sparks.
The Sentinel Mark X, the very one that had nearly killed Logan, tried to use its signature move-a lightning-fast lunge with hand transformation into a blade. The jinchuriki didn't even bother dodging. A golden hand intercepted the opponent in mid-flight and simply tore it in half, as if it had been assembled from a construction set.
"Sasuke!" shouted Naruto. "The last ones are yours!"
The warrior nodded. His right hand rose to the sky, the air filling with static electricity. The heavens seemed to split open-lightning as thick as a telegraph pole struck the group of remaining enemies. Not an ordinary atmospheric discharge, but a controlled stream of pure energy.
The machines smoked, their circuits unable to withstand the overload. They collapsed synchronously, like puppets with cut strings.
The final Sentinel soared into the air, trying to escape. Both shinobi reacted instantly, like two predators who had cornered their prey:
"Odama Rasengan!"
"Chidori!"
A gigantic spiral sphere and concentrated stream of lightning met in the robot's hull. The Sentinel exploded with a deafening roar, but at a sufficient distance from the school-debris scattered across an empty area between trees, not touching either the building or the wounded mutants.
When the smoke cleared, the school yard resembled a gruesome scene of carnage. The ground was strewn with debris from once invulnerable machines. The air smelled of ozone and burning metal.
Wolverine slowly rose to his feet, his regeneration finally handling the injuries. All that had happened took no more than five minutes, but during this time, two teenagers had destroyed more Sentinels than the X-Men had in the past year.
The mutant's gaze fell on Scott's motionless body, and the victory's bitterness became even sharper. Even such monstrous power couldn't correct certain losses. Clenching his jaw, he headed toward his fallen comrade's body. Around him burned the remains of Sentinels-silent witnesses to how the balance of power in their endless war had changed today.