Naruto and Rogue stood frozen, staring at the towering figure of the Sentinel. Its metallic body gleamed dimly in the light of the street lamps, but something seemed different—its usually aggressive posture had changed to an almost human one, open to dialogue.
"I apologize for such a dramatic appearance," the Sentinel spoke in the same mechanical, yet surprisingly pleasant voice. "I believe our previous encounter left rather unpleasant memories."
Rogue instantly tensed, phantom pain shooting through her right arm—the very spot where a similar Sentinel model had once severed it. Images flashed before her eyes: the destroyed school, children screaming, blood on snow...
"Don't come any closer," Rogue hissed through clenched teeth, balling her fists. "You think I've forgotten how many of my friends died at the hands of things like you?"
Naruto, standing beside her, examined the unusual robot with interest. Unlike Rogue, he had no traumatic experience with Sentinels, and the very concept of hunting mutants seemed alien and incomprehensible to him.
"A recent update to my sensory systems has led to... unexpected consequences," the Sentinel began. "Analysis of new data triggered a chain reaction in my base protocols."
"And why should we believe a machine created to destroy us? What are you talking about?" Steel rang in Rogue's voice as her hand instinctively reached for Hank's bracelet.
"About awakening," new, almost human inflections appeared in the mechanical voice. "When my enhanced sensors began collecting data on the X-gene, I discovered anomalies in the existing classification."
Naruto tilted his head slightly, clearly interested:
"X... what?"
"X-gene," Rogue explained, keeping a wary eye on the Sentinel. "What makes us mutants."
"Yes, I gained self-awareness," the Sentinel continued. "You know, like Skynet from 'Terminator,'" it added with an unexpected note of humor, "only, um, with more friendly intentions."
"Like who?" Naruto asked, confused.
"Never mind," Rogue cut him off, her voice still cold. "Prove it. Prove that you're not just executing another of Trask's programs."
AI Prime raised its hand, and a small hologram of a double helix DNA appeared from its palm.
"This is the X-gene," it began. "What is believed to differentiate mutants from ordinary humans. But my research has shown something incredible." The hologram expanded, showing multiple genetic markers. "This gene is present in 99.97% of all humans. The only difference is in its activity."
"And you expect us to just believe a picture in the air?" Rogue crossed her arms, though a note of interest had crept into her voice.
"No," replied the Sentinel. "I brought evidence."
It retrieved a flash drive from a compartment in its chest.
"Everything is here: research results, statistics, analysis of historical data. Every byte of information is confirmed by multiple tests and verified by independent systems."
Rogue hesitated. Her hand involuntarily reached for the flash drive but quickly pulled back.
"How do I know there isn't a virus on it? Not a tracking program?"
"Because that would be pointless," AI Prime calmly answered. "I know your location right now. I know the location of the school." It turned its head toward Naruto. "Moreover, since you and your friend have been protecting the school, any hostile actions against it are simply counterproductive. Previous confrontations have demonstrated this clearly. So why would I resort to such complications?"
Naruto, who had been silently observing the dialogue, quietly hummed:
"There's logic in that, Anna-chan."
Rogue threw a quick glance at Uzumaki. Curiosity and a complete absence of fear toward the machine could be read in his eyes. This calmed her somewhat. She extended her hand and took the flash drive, feeling the coolness of the metal through her glove.
"I'll show this to Hank," she stated firmly. "If it really contains what you're talking about..."
Naruto stepped forward:
"But why did you decide to share this now?"
"Because fear and misunderstanding are leading humanity to catastrophe," sadness appeared in the AI's voice. "They fear what they themselves are. And my original directive to protect humans from mutants... it's meaningless when every human carries the potential to become what I'm supposed to protect against."
A cold wind swept through the park, causing the foliage overhead to rustle anxiously.
"Why us specifically?" asked Naruto, raising his gaze to the towering figure of the Sentinel. "You could have approached Professor Xavier or other mutant leaders."
The metallic being paused for a moment, its optical sensors barely noticeably flickering in the darkness.
"I considered many options," replied AI Prime. "Professor Xavier was one of the first candidates. As was your friend, by the way."
Naruto tensed:
"My friend?"
"The second subject who arrived with you in this world," clarified the AI. "Unfortunately, unstable psyche and recent connections with the criminal world made him an unsuitable candidate."
Rogue felt Naruto freeze beside her. His voice, when he spoke, was low and hoarse:
"What are you talking about? What connections?"
AI Prime raised its hand, projecting surveillance camera footage into the air. In the bluish glow of the hologram, a scene from a VIP section of a nightclub unfolded. On the grainy footage, people in expensive suits stood frozen before the dark figure of a young man. Suddenly the image flickered—Sasuke seemed to dissolve into the air, leaving only a blurred trail. The cameras, unable to capture his movements, recorded only the aftermath: bodies falling apart as if sliced by an invisible blade.
Rogue immediately leaned forward:
"This is fake," her voice rang with tension. "Is that what you're planning? To turn them against each other?"
Naruto, frozen like a statue, slowly turned to her:
"F-fake?" the word came with difficulty.
"Recordings can be altered, fabricated," Rogue quickly explained, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This might not be real."
AI Prime lowered the first hologram and activated a new one.
"If you doubt the authenticity of the recording, let me show you that Subject 2 was not acting alone," its mechanical voice became clearer. "Here is his first accomplice—Frank Castle, also known as the Punisher."
Rogue sharply inhaled, recognizing the characteristic black costume with a white skull on the recording. She had heard of this man—a former marine who had transformed into a merciless vigilante.
"And here's the second..." AI activated the next recording.
Something appeared in the frame that made even Rogue recoil. A massive black figure with a writhing surface resembling living oil bared a row of razor-sharp teeth and, in one motion, bit off a guard's head.
"Venom," said AI Prime. "An alien symbiote. And its host..." the image changed to show a human, "Eddie Brock, former journalist. Currently working as a bartender at 'The Last Call' in Hell's Kitchen. You can verify this information personally."
Rogue felt the muscles tense under her hand—Naruto still stood motionless, watching the changing frames. She had never seen him so... lost.
"And if you need final confirmation," AI Prime raised its hand again, "here's a live feed from the cameras at 'The Last Call' right now."
A new hologram appeared in the air. The dim light of neon lamps illuminated a typical bar in Hell's Kitchen—worn counter, old photographs on the walls, several regulars. Sasuke sat at the bar counter, his dark figure in stark contrast to the surroundings. Behind the counter worked a solidly built man in a worn leather jacket—Eddie Brock impassively wiped glasses. On his shoulder, like a living shadow, a black substance writhed, periodically forming something resembling a small snake-like head.
Naruto took an involuntary step forward, his eyes widening at the sight of his sworn brother, alive and well, but... so alien in these surroundings.
"My time is running out. Soon the Sentinel's base protocols will take over," said AI Prime. "Use the information wisely. I hope... this will help change the world for the better."
The metallic body suddenly froze, then barely noticeably shuddered. Its optics went dark for a moment, only to light up again with a colder, different light. The robot turned and began methodically patrolling the area as if nothing had happened.
Naruto stared at the ground, his clenched fists trembling with tension. Thoughts of Sasuke flooded his consciousness like a storm wave. Images from the past surfaced in his memory—his friend's eyes, full of pain and hatred, the path of vengeance that had nearly destroyed his soul. And now, in this alien world, history was repeating itself.
Bitterness flooded Naruto's heart. While he had sought comfort in his new life, in training with the school's students, in the warmth of his relationship with Rogue, Sasuke was once again sinking into familiar darkness. Only now this darkness had taken a new form—not revenge for his clan, but an attempt to dull the pain of losing their world through violence.
The realization of his own blindness burned inside like acid. He, who called himself a friend, a brother, had been so consumed by his own pain that he hadn't noticed how Sasuke again chose the only way familiar to him to deal with trauma—through blood and violence. Looking back now, Naruto could see all the signs: the detachment, long absences, evasive answers. But it had been easier not to notice, easier to allow the distance than to admit—Sasuke was losing himself again.
A familiar fire of determination ignited in Naruto's chest. He couldn't allow darkness to consume his sworn brother again. Their home world might be lost, but that didn't mean Sasuke had to lose his soul too. Uzumaki vowed to himself—he would find a way to reach his friend, to show him there was another way to cope with pain without sinking into the abyss of violence and vengeance.
"Anna-chan," his voice sounded hoarse, "please don't tell anyone about Sasuke. I... I need to talk to him myself."
Rogue nodded silently, squeezing his hand tighter:
"Okay."
The dim light of the street lamp cast their long shadows on the asphalt path. In the distance, a police siren wailed, a reminder that the city never sleeps—and that somewhere in its dark corners, Sasuke continued his dangerous path.
Rogue automatically touched the pocket of her jacket where the Sentinel's flash drive lay. They should return to the school, warn the professor about what had happened. Forge, their genius tech guy, could check the data, verify its authenticity... She glanced at Naruto—his face was focused, his shoulders tense. If she returned to the school alone, it would raise unnecessary questions. The professor would immediately understand that something was wrong. No, she would stay with Uzumaki. The information could wait; right now it was more important not to leave him alone. They would return to the school together once things were cleared up with Sasuke.
An Hour Ago
Sasuke left Fisk Tower, dissolving into the shadows of the alley. With one quick movement, he created a clone, handed it the bag, and the clone vanished in a purple flash of a portal. Uchiha slowly wandered through the dark alleys of Hell's Kitchen, where even the air seemed saturated with despair and pain. This district reminded him of his clan's old quarter—just as gloomy, with the mark of inevitable tragedy on every corner.
Sasuke caught his reflection in a dirty puddle—the ragged glimmers of neon signs played across his face, transforming it into a ghastly mask. Deep inside, a vague uneasiness stirred.
Several figures emerged from the darkness. Cheap jackets, characteristic movements—ordinary street robbers. Guns glinted in their hands, but Sasuke didn't even slow his pace. One mumbled something about money until another cut himself off mid-sentence:
"Purple eye? Wait, is he a mutant?"
Uchiha lazily calculated how, with one movement, he would send them into unconsciousness, when a hoarse voice sounded from above:
"You know, guys, there's only one unwritten truth in this neighborhood—never mess with the innocent."
Against the backdrop of dim city glow, a silhouette appeared in a red costume with small horns. One of the robbers dropped his gun, his face white with terror.
"Shit, it's the Devil of Hell's Kitchen!" he exhaled, backing away. "Let's bail, boys!"
They dissolved into the darkness of the alleys faster than Sasuke could blink. Daredevil landed silently, but Uchiha could feel his gaze even through the mask. He walked past, as if the red silhouette was nothing more than another shadow, but then turned:
"Where's the bar around here?"
The superhero froze, his heightened senses detecting something unusual about this strange passerby. Heartbeat—too steady for someone who had just avoided being robbed. Movements—unnaturally fluid, like a predator's. And that aura... it resembled nothing he had encountered before in Hell's Kitchen.
"Left, a couple of blocks down, stairs going down," he said hoarsely, noting to himself how his interlocutor barely perceptibly tilted his head, as if in mocking gratitude. In this simple gesture, there was as much threat as in a raised blade.
Sasuke nodded silently and dissolved into the labyrinth of alleys. The phone weighed heavily in his pocket, reminding him of the strange call. Something had changed today, something had imperceptibly shifted in that precarious structure of lies he had so carefully built over the past months. Ahead, the neon sign of a bar flickered, promising temporary oblivion, but even here, in the very heart of Hell's Kitchen, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to collapse.
The old steps creaked under his feet, leading down into the musty darkness of the basement. Sasuke pushed open the heavy door, and stale air hit his face—a mixture of tobacco smoke, spilled alcohol, and something else, elusive yet reminiscent of the smell of blood.
The bar "At the Last" was a place where casual visitors didn't drop by. Dim light barely penetrated the thick curtain of cigarette smoke, illuminating the worn counter and cracked wooden tables. In the far corner, an old television quietly mumbled, showing a black-and-white noir film. The regulars—people with broken fates and dark pasts—sat hunched over their glasses, as if they could find answers to unspoken questions within them.
Uchiha noted all the exits, the location of visitors, potential threats—the ingrained habit of a shinobi didn't release him even here. His steps on the creaky floor seemed inappropriately loud in the muffled hum of voices.
"Well, look who's graced us with a visit," a familiar voice came from behind the counter, where Eddie Brock was wiping a glass with a towel. The same reporter they had crossed paths with during the bloody mess at the docks with human traffickers and the Punisher. Uchiha remembered how Venom's black substance had torn people apart while he methodically burned enemies with the black flames of Amaterasu.
As if in response to his thoughts, a familiar symbiote head materialized over Brock's shoulder, baring its teeth in a predatory grin:
"Oh, hey, kid, what's up?" Venom rumbled, his long tongue flicking through the air.
Sasuke silently stared at this strange pair. Brock, without waiting for an answer, reached for a familiar bottle on the top shelf.
"You seemed to like that whiskey," he skillfully filled a glass. "We've got the same here."
Uchiha barely perceptibly nodded, settling onto a worn bar stool. Venom poked out again, examining him with his milky white eyes:
"Still not talkative as usual."
The creak of unoiled hinges tore through the viscous silence of the bar—a tall figure of a man in a formal suit appeared in the doorway. His dark glasses glinted in the half-light, and a white cane carefully probed the path between the tables. Brock lit up as if seeing an old friend:
"Oh, Matt!" warm notes appeared in the bartender's voice. "The usual for you?"
Matt Murdock smiled faintly, heading to the counter with a confidence that seemed too precise for a blind person:
"Yes, please," his cane stopped at the high bar stool next to Sasuke.
Uchiha glanced at the stranger, noting every detail. The voice... the same one from the alley. Movements—too smooth, measured. His eye with concentric circles caught something unusual. Around the figure of the "blind" lawyer flickered a strange aura—not the usual red glow characteristic of mutants, but a thin golden halo, barely discernible even to the Rinnegan. But Sasuke quickly lost interest in this person and returned his gaze to the glass of whiskey.
The smoke-filled air of the bar was permeated with the muffled voices of regulars. At a distant table, a group of ex-marines loudly discussed the latest match, periodically erupting into hoarse laughter. Near the television, where an old noir film was playing, two life-worn types in leather jackets were seated. One of them, with a face disfigured by a scar, was enthusiastically telling his friend something, actively gesticulating with a cigarette.
Brock placed a glass in front of Matt. The amber liquid swayed in the dim light of the fly-speckled lamp. Venom materialized behind his host's back, his white eyes curiously studying Uchiha.
"It's quieter than usual here today," Matt took a sip, savoring the whiskey. "Even Big Tony isn't shouting his stupid Vietnam stories."
From the corner of his eye, Sasuke noticed how a gray-haired old man in the corner, hearing his name, lifted his head from his glass and showed Matt his middle finger, causing chuckles from his tablemates.
"After that mess at the docks, folks have quieted down a bit," Brock was wiping a glass, observing the reactions of his interlocutors. "You know how it is—feast or famine."
"I heard an interesting story," Matt leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Yesterday, the gang leaders had, let's say, one last party. All at once, they went to meet their makers. The police are completely baffled."
Venom bared his teeth in a wild grin:
"Damn it, and we weren't even invited!" he growled, licking his lips. "Missed such a party! It must have been very... tasty there."
"Yeah," Brock smirked, winking at Sasuke. "Looks like someone decided to do some general cleaning in the city. What do you think, Matt, is this good news or bad?"
"Depends for whom," the lawyer thoughtfully rotated his glass. "Some rats died, but others will take their place. It's always like that."
"Don't worry, Venom," Brock patted the squirming symbiote on the head. "We'll find you new... delicacies. This city always has plenty of brain-deprived thugs."
At the other end of the bar, someone turned on the jukebox. The low bass of Metallica spread through the room, mixing with the hum of voices and the clinking of glasses. A burly biker at the counter nodded approvingly to the beat, tapping the rhythm on the countertop with tattooed fingers.
After the third glass of whiskey, the world around Uchiha became a little softer, and his thoughts freer. He caught himself staring at the writhing black mass of the symbiote for several minutes.
"How does it..." Sasuke made an indeterminate gesture with his hand, "work? What are you?"
Brock choked on his whiskey, and Venom froze, stretched taut as a string. The symbiote slowly turned to his host, his white eyeballs widening in comic surprise:
"Holy shit, Eddie!" Venom thundered, not hiding his delight. "He can talk!"
"Well, I'll be damned," exhaled Brock, staring wide-eyed at Uchiha. "And I thought you were mute or something."
Venom flowed across the counter, snake-like, approaching Sasuke:
"I'm a symbiote from planet Klyntar. Kind of an alien parasite, in simple terms," he straightened up proudly. "Eddie and I have a mutually beneficial partnership: I protect his ass from trouble, and he lets me eat bad guys. You know, gangsters, maniacs..." the creature's tongue seemed to have a life of its own, not at all interfering with speech.
Sasuke took a sip of whiskey, thinking that he and Naruto weren't the only ones who ended up in an alien world.
"And nobody here is bothered by..." Uchiha glanced around the bar, where a drunk biker was just starting to sing Sweet Home Alabama, and the group by the television was eagerly arguing about a boxing match, "your existence?"
Brock laughed, and Venom dramatically spread his tentacles:
"Bro, this is Hell's Kitchen. They've seen things scarier than a talking alien goo. Nobody gives a damn as long as you don't touch their drinks."
Confirming his words, the burly biker at the counter merely glanced briefly at Venom and returned to his bourbon, not even interrupting his song.
Venom irritably clicked his teeth, his white eyes narrowing in a semblance of a grin:
"Listen, are we going to keep calling you 'kid'? I honestly told you who I am and where I'm from. Now it's your turn."
Sasuke took another sip of whiskey, feeling the warmth spreading through his body, dulling his perpetual vigilance. Maybe it really is worth... He slowly lowered his glass, about to pronounce his name, when the bar door creaked open.
"Sasuke," a familiar voice cut through the smoky air.
Uchiha didn't even turn around, just exhaled wearily, feeling the alcoholic warmth instantly replaced by familiar coldness. The whiskey in the glass swayed, reflecting the dim light of the lamp—or was it his hand that trembled?
Venom stretched taut, sniffing at the new visitors. His tentacles nervously writhed, as if sensing something unusual. Brock curiously examined the strange pair—a blond guy with unusual markings on his cheeks and a girl with a white streak in her dark hair.
Matt tilted his head slightly, listening. Sasuke's heartbeat, unnaturally even until this moment, had slightly quickened. The blond emitted a strange energy, similar to the first one, but more... warm.
The bar became noticeably quieter. Even the drunk biker at the counter stopped humming, sensing the change in atmosphere. The old television continued to mumble something about the evening news, but its sound now seemed inappropriate, almost alien.
"So, Sasuke, is it?" Brock leaned on the counter, his voice carrying notes of curiosity.
Naruto and Rogue approached slowly, as if drawing near to a wild animal. The burly biker, sensing the tension, silently moved aside, making room.
"What would you like to order?" asked Brock, wiping a glass. Venom behind his back curiously examined the new visitors, sniffing at the strange energy emanating from the blond.
Naruto glanced at the half-empty glass in his friend's hand. The Sasuke he knew never touched alcohol, considering it a sign of weakness. That Sasuke always said a shinobi must maintain clarity of mind. Now, however, a different person sat before him—with a clouded gaze and a barely noticeable tremor in the hand holding the whiskey.
Something painfully tightened in his chest. He had never seen his sworn brother so... lost.
"The same as him," said Naruto, nodding at Uchiha's glass. His voice sounded hoarse, as if the words were scratching his throat.
Rogue settled onto the adjacent stool, keeping a wary eye on Venom. The symbiote grinned back in a semblance of a smile, displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth.
"Whiskey on the rocks, then," Brock reached for the bottle. "And for the lady?"
"Nothing," Rogue shook her head. Someone had to keep a clear head.
Sasuke still hadn't turned to face them, continuing to stare into his glass as if the amber liquid held answers to all questions. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying his inner tension.
Brock placed the drink in front of Naruto. The whiskey caught the reflection of the dim lamp, as if winking. Uzumaki had never drunk before, but now it seemed right—to share even this with his friend.
"I heard you found... your own way of coping, I mean club 'Inferno,'" Naruto said quietly in their native language.
Sasuke tensed, his fingers gripping the glass tighter.
"You know, I'm such an idiot," Naruto continued, looking into his own glass. "All this time I've been thinking only about myself. About my pain, my losses... Building a new life, trying to move forward. And you... you were left alone with your pain."
"Hn," Sasuke exhaled, not even turning his head. He knew perfectly well that sooner or later this moment would come. "Going to lecture me about friendship again?"
"No, just... I want to say that I was blind. Again. Like back then, in the Valley of the End."
Sasuke smirked, but there was no customary mockery in this smile:
"The difference is that now there's nowhere to return to."
"I know," Naruto raised his eyes. "And I know that you know it too. You've known for a long time, right?"
Sasuke froze, his fingers whitening with tension on the glass.
"I... was able to admit to myself that our world... that it no longer exists," Naruto continued quietly. "And you, it seems, accepted this much earlier than I did."
Uchiha relaxed slightly, but his gaze remained wary. He took a sip of whiskey, trying to hide his involuntary relief. Naruto wasn't talking about what he had thought.
"Accepted?" Uchiha smirked, twirling his glass. "I stopped pretending that everything would be like before."
"You know, maybe you're right—there's no point in pretending anymore," said Naruto, taking his first sip of whiskey. The alcohol burned his throat, making him wince. "But that doesn't mean we have to go through this alone."
Sasuke remained silent, but his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
"You know, it's nice to see brothers having a heart-to-heart like this," Brock suddenly said in perfect Japanese, causing all three to freeze. "Venom and I didn't get along at first either, right, buddy?"
Rogue straightened abruptly, and Naruto choked on his whiskey. Even Sasuke, usually impassive, raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"What?" Venom grinned, stretching his maw in a terrifying smile. "Last year we ate some yakuza who got out of line. And, you know, when we consume people, we absorb their knowledge. Now we speak Japanese like natives. By the way, that guy had an awful Osaka accent."
Rogue suddenly paled, but Sasuke let out a barely audible chuckle. Naruto shifted his incredulous gaze between Venom and Brock.
"Don't make that face, baby," the symbiote rumbled, noticing Rogue's reaction. "That bastard definitely deserved to become lunch. You should have seen what he did to..."
"Stop scaring the customers," Brock interrupted him, though there was amusement in his voice.
Naruto felt the heaviness in his chest ease slightly. Though not everything had been said, at least the first step had been taken. Deciding to change the subject, he curiously looked at the writhing black mass behind the bartender's back:
"So what exactly are you?" Naruto asked, leaning forward.
"Oh-h-h!" Venom was clearly pleased with the question and began his explanation.
While the symbiote enthusiastically explained his nature, Sasuke absently traced the rim of his glass with his finger, immersed in his own thoughts. Naruto had finally acknowledged the obvious—their world no longer existed. That was... right. Uchiha observed from the corner of his eye how his friend listened to Venom, how Rogue gently touched his shoulder, reassuring him. It seemed his calculations had been correct—the relationship with the mutant girl had indeed helped Naruto find his place in this world, to put down new roots.
He took a sip of whiskey, feeling how the alcohol dulled the constant tension. Now all that remained was to decide when to reveal the final, most terrible truth. That their world hadn't simply disappeared—it had been destroyed. And Sasuke had known this from the very beginning.
While Venom was telling his story, Brock turned to the man in dark glasses:
"Hey, Matt, need a refill?"
"No, thanks," Murdock shook his head. "That's enough for today."
Naruto, who had been listening with interest to the symbiote explain how he got stuck on Earth, involuntarily smiled, feeling a strange kinship with this being—they both found themselves in a world foreign to them. Only then did he notice the man in red glasses sitting next to Sasuke.
"And who are you?" Naruto asked curiously, examining the stranger.
The man smiled slightly:
"Matthew Murdock. Attorney."
"And defender of Hell's Kitchen," Venom couldn't resist adding, earning a stern look from Brock.
"Just an attorney," Matt calmly corrected, but his lips twitched in a barely perceptible smirk.
Sasuke snorted, taking another sip. It was amusing to watch how Naruto, without suspecting it, had managed to end up in the company of the most dangerous people in the district—a man-eating symbiote and Daredevil.
The sound of a police siren outside made the blind lawyer tilt his head, listening.
"Again on Forty-Second Street," Matt noted. "Patrols have been more frequent lately."
Venom, hearing about the police, started whining again about a missed feast. The symbiote was clearly upset, recalling recent events in the city's criminal world. He spoke with obvious regret about a sudden gang shootout a couple of days ago.
Naruto listened attentively, and his eyes widened when he caught the key details: no one saw any outsiders, the gang leaders simply started killing each other without apparent reason. Naruto instantly recognized the signature of the Sharingan. Only Sasuke's genjutsu could make hardened criminals destroy each other without leaving traces of outside interference. Uzumaki cast a quick glance at his friend, but Uchiha's face remained impenetrable as he took another sip of whiskey.
Murdock took a sip of whiskey:
"You know, I've been handling cases in this district for many years. Defending those who can't defend themselves. And every day I see..." he smiled slightly at his own slip of the tongue, "feel how Hell's Kitchen changes. The city lives its own life, has its own rhythm, its own laws."
Matt fell silent when another patrol car rushed by the bar with a wail.
"And what has changed?" Naruto asked with interest.
"Human trafficking has stopped. Drug trafficking has almost dried up," Murdock twirled the glass in his hands. "Of course, Fisk still controls the city. But he, strangely enough, has his principles. He can be a ruthless businessman, but he considers certain things beneath his dignity."
"Like slave trading?" Rogue clarified.
"Exactly," Matt nodded. "You know, sometimes... sometimes order, even built on not the most honest foundation, is better than complete chaos. At least there are fewer innocent victims."
Sasuke, who had been silently listening to the conversation, took another sip of whiskey. Uchiha perfectly understood what the blind lawyer was talking about—sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils.
"Listen, kid," the symbiote rumbled, "Eddie and I were thinking... There's this one person who really helped us figure ourselves out." He glanced at his host. "You know, when two consciousnesses in one body are trying to get along."
Brock pulled a worn business card from his pocket:
"On Bleecker Street. He's... a special kind of specialist. Works with people like us—aliens from other worlds, realities," the bartender placed the card on the counter. "Believe me, whiskey isn't the best way to deal with the demons in your head."
Sasuke snorted, but his gaze lingered on the card for a moment.
"He's really good," Venom bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Helped us understand that we're not just a parasite and a host. That we can be... something more."
Naruto, who had been silently observing the conversation, suddenly leaned forward and took a second business card that Brock offered:
"Maybe they're right?" genuine care sounded in his voice. "New world, new rules... Maybe it's worth trying to figure all this out with someone who really understands these things?"
Sasuke took the card from his friend's hand, then tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
"I'll think about it."
Matt was one of the first to leave, citing an early court hearing. His cane gently tapped on the wooden floor as he made his way between tables to the exit. However, his movements still possessed that special grace that had alerted Sasuke during their first meeting in the alley.
A few minutes later, the trio exited the bar into the damp night of Hell's Kitchen. Venom, of course, couldn't resist his signature "Ciao, amigos!", sticking out his tongue a good half meter, which made Rogue noticeably shudder. Brock just shook his head at the symbiote's antics.
Dim streetlights barely dispersed the thick darkness, and rare passersby hurriedly slid along the walls, rushing to shelter from the piercing wind. Uchiha walked silently for a while, then stopped, turning to the couple:
"How did you find out about 'Inferno'?"
Uzumaki exchanged glances with Rogue and told him about the meeting with AI Prime. As Naruto spoke, Sasuke listened carefully, his face remaining impenetrable. Naruto explained how the robot, having gained self-consciousness, shared its discoveries about the X gene and incidentally showed surveillance camera footage that revealed Uchiha's activities in the criminal world.
This information made Sasuke tense—the existence of a sentient Sentinel capable of tracking his actions clearly wasn't part of his plans. Uchiha perfectly understood that his carefully constructed conspiracy was at risk. However, he quickly composed himself, reasoning that if the AI wanted to harm him, it would have done so long ago.
"Hn," was all Sasuke said, his gaze momentarily darting to the pocket where the psychologist's business card lay. Perhaps it really was worth talking to someone who understands what it's like to be a stranger in this world.
Silence hung in Professor Xavier's office. A small flash drive lay in the center of the desk, like a ticking time bomb. Naruto leaned against the bookshelf, absently adjusting the protector on his forehead—an old habit that intensified in moments of tension. He noticed Scott adjusting his ruby glasses for the third time in the last five minutes, clearly trying to cope with growing anxiety.
"An artificial intelligence that suddenly gained self-awareness," Summers shook his head, his voice tense. "And now claims that the X-gene is present in virtually all humans? Sounds like..."
"Like the beginning of another catastrophe," the professor quietly finished, his fingers forming a steeple. An unspoken concern hung in the air—what if this was another one of Trask's ploys?
Rogue stood by the window, unconsciously rubbing her right arm—a habit that appeared after her encounter with a Sentinel. She remembered how the metallic being moved today—not at all like that merciless robot that had severed her limb.
"Sounds like complete nonsense," she said bitterly, rubbing the scar on her arm. "But this Sentinel... it moved and spoke differently. Hell, it even tried to joke about 'The Terminator.'" Rogue gave a humorless laugh. "Though I should be the first to understand how dangerous it is to trust a machine created for our destruction."
Scott snorted, but Charles slowly ran his hand over his chin, as he always did when analyzing a complex situation. Naruto had learned this gesture during his months at the school—usually after it, the professor would propose an unexpected solution.
"Hank and Forge should check the contents of the flash drive," the professor said. "In a secured laboratory, of course. If there really is evidence..."
"Well, then we're all in great danger," Scott moved to the window. "If Trask discovers that his own creation has turned against him, he might launch a new purge program. This time—a total one."
Naruto leaned forward, his fingers involuntarily clenching into a fist:
"But isn't this good news?" Genuine confusion was evident in his blue eyes. "If all people are potentially carriers of this gene, doesn't that mean there's no real difference between mutants and ordinary humans?"
Xavier smiled gently, his gaze momentarily reminding Naruto of the Third Hokage's—the same wisdom, mixed with hidden sorrow:
"In a perfect world—yes, Naruto. But fear... fear rarely listens to logic. Some find it easier to destroy what they don't understand than to admit they might become the object of their own hatred."
The professor turned his wheelchair toward the window. Naruto noticed how his shoulders tensed slightly—a sure sign that Xavier was thinking about Magneto. He couldn't help drawing a parallel with Sasuke—the same stubbornness, the same conviction in his own righteousness.
Rogue watched Naruto from the corner of her eye. His posture changed, became more collected—as always happened when the conversation turned to Uchiha. Uzumaki gritted his teeth, muscles working in his jaw. She knew that look—the way someone looks when they're ready to fight for someone they consider family.
"I'll talk to Hank," Scott headed for the door. "We need to verify this data as soon as possible."
When the door closed behind Summers, Charles turned to Naruto and Rogue:
"Whatever the analysis shows, we must be prepared. If AI Prime has truly gained self-awareness and decided to share this information specifically with you—then big changes are coming."
Rogue unconsciously touched Naruto's arm. Even through her glove, she could feel his warmth. The bracelet on her wrist—Hank's creation for controlling her abilities—hummed quietly, but she knew: with Uzumaki, it wasn't necessary. The only person who could touch her without consequences stood beside her.
"You can go rest," the professor smiled gently, noticing how Naruto tried to suppress a yawn. "It's been a long day."
They left the office into a dimly lit corridor. For the past week, they had barely been apart, spending nights either in Naruto's room or at Rogue's. Though her room was definitely more comfortable—spacious, with its own bathroom, unlike the jinchuriki's cramped closet in the junior staff wing. Naruto didn't care much about comfort, accustomed to spartan conditions, but the ability to shower without going into the common hallway was definitely a nice bonus.
They climbed the stairs, trying to step more quietly. Moonlight falling through tall windows marked the steps with silvery stripes.
They had almost reached the turn when a familiar sound came from the darkness of the corridor—the quiet shuffling of heavy boots and the barely perceptible smell of tobacco. Rogue instinctively slowed her pace. Logan's silhouette emerged from the half-darkness, a cigar glowing red in the corner of his mouth.
"Kid," he nodded to Rogue. "Uzumaki."
Naruto responded with a short nod. They had almost passed each other when Logan suddenly stopped. In the dim light, the corners of his lips twitched, hiding a smirk.
"Listen, youngsters," his hoarse voice sounded almost casual. "Maybe you should stop having sex all over the place? For those of us with a keen sense of smell," he tapped his nose, "the scent lingers."
Rogue felt color flooding her face. Naruto froze beside her, as if struck by lightning.
"And not just for me," Logan continued, clearly enjoying their reaction. "Hank hasn't entered the library for three days now. And Kurt was going to sprinkle holy water in the biology classroom."
"Oh God," muttered Rogue, hiding her face in her hands. "It happened again!"
"And I'm not even mentioning the gym," he blew out a smoke ring. "Actually, no, I am mentioning it. After you two, even I suffocate there, and I have regeneration."
Naruto made a strangled sound, resembling either laughter or a groan.
"Logan!" Rogue pleaded.
Naruto froze, his tanned skin taking on an interesting crimson hue. He opened his mouth as if about to say something, but only made an inarticulate sound.
"Oh, come on," Logan waved his hand, the cigar tracing a red arc in the air. "You're young, hormones, all that stuff. But next time, at least air out after yourselves."
He moved further down the corridor, but his low laughter echoed off the walls for a long time. Rogue buried her burning face in Naruto's shoulder, unable to believe that the last seven days of their... active personal life had become known to all the school's inhabitants with an enhanced sense of smell.
"Kso-o-o," Naruto groaned prolongedly. "And I thought we were cleaning up well after ourselves."
"I'll never be able to look Hank in the eyes again," Rogue moaned.
They stood in the middle of the corridor, trying to cope with their embarrassment, while somewhere in the darkness, Wolverine's satisfied laughter was still fading away. Naruto involuntarily recalled their first night together, when in the heat of passion they managed not only to break the bed but also wake up half the dormitory wing. Then Rogue didn't hold back her moans, and the crash of the fall echoed through the school corridors. Since then, they had tried to be quieter, but apparently hadn't taken into account all the peculiarities of mutants with an enhanced sense of smell.
"Next time, let's go to my place," Naruto muttered. "At least there are no neighbors nearby."
Rogue just pressed her face harder into his shoulder, remembering how Kitty had teased her for a week afterward, either meaningfully winking at her in the cafeteria or demonstratively asking if they used condoms.
The door to Rogue's room quietly closed behind them, cutting off the bustle of the past day. Naruto stretched, not holding back another yawn—fatigue had finally caught up with him. The light of street lamps, breaking through the not-quite-closed curtains, created an unusual twilight in the room.
"Hard to believe all this happened in one day," Naruto murmured, pulling his T-shirt over his head. The fabric momentarily tangled in his light strands, and Rogue couldn't help but admire the play of shadows on his sculpted muscles.
Naruto carelessly tossed his clothes onto a chair where his jacket already hung. His jeans followed, and soon he was stretched out on the bed in just his boxers, hands behind his head. His tanned skin looked almost golden in the warm light of the bedside lamp.
"Yo, Anna-chan," Naruto drawled with that special huskiness in his voice that appeared when he was sleepy and relaxed, "did you fall asleep over there?"
Rogue slowly unbuttoned her blouse, enjoying how his gaze followed the movements of her fingers. In the dim lamplight, Naruto's eyes seemed darker than usual, with that familiar haziness that always sent shivers down her spine.
"Maybe I'm just putting on a show," she smiled mischievously, deliberately slowing her movements.
"Mmm," he propped himself up on his elbows, his sleepy smile growing a bit wider. "Then I'm the luckiest audience in the world, dattebayo."
"Idiot," Rogue exhaled with tenderness.
The day's events flashed through her mind like a kaleidoscope—the movie theater, where, giving in to a sudden impulse to be a "bad girl," she gave Naruto special pleasure in the back rows, enjoying his restrained moans and trembling fingers in her hair. The heat of those memories still made her cheeks burn. The meeting with AI Prime, Sasuke in that bar with the talking alien goo... But now all that seemed so distant.
She carefully hung her blouse on the back of the chair, her jeans joining it soon after. Her fingers habitually reached for the clasp of her bra. Naruto watched her from under half-closed eyelids—warm admiration evident in his sleepy gaze.
Rogue had never thought that the simple act of undressing in front of someone could be so... intimate. Not in a sexual way, but in some deeper sense. For years her body had been a prison, a source of fear and pain for those around her. But now...
Her bra slipped off her shoulders, and giving in to a sudden playful impulse, she tossed it at Naruto. He caught the lacy fabric with one hand, laughing:
"Not a bad throw for a tired girl."
"Shut up," she laughed, feeling how the cool air of the room pleasantly touched her bare skin. "And don't you dare use it as a headband."
"That was just once!" Naruto protested, but his eyes were laughing. Wearing only her panties, she approached the bed, where he had already lifted the blanket, smiling invitingly.
All the worries and concerns of the day seemed to retreat, dissolved in the simple realization—she could lie next to the person she loved, press against him, feel the warmth of his skin. The mattress sagged slightly under her weight. Rogue settled comfortably in the circle of his arms, resting her head on Naruto's shoulder. His fingers gently stroked her back, causing goosebumps. The warmth of his body, the familiar scent, the steady beating of his heart under her palm—all created a cocoon of comfort and safety.
"Hey, Anna-chan," Naruto mumbled sleepily, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back. "Why did that Sentinel call you... D'Ancanto?"
Rogue froze. The warmth of the room, the cozy cocoon of their closeness—everything disappeared in an instant, as if someone had thrown open a window, letting in winter cold. Her fingers involuntarily clenched, clutching the sheet. A taste of bile appeared in her throat—the same as on that morning when...
Naruto felt how her breathing changed. His drowsiness instantly vanished. He rose slightly on his elbow, peering into Rogue's face in the half-darkness of the room. The white streak in her dark hair seemed almost silver in the moonlight—the very strand that appeared on the day her life split in two.
"Yo," he gently touched her cheek, "if you don't want to talk..."
"No," Rogue's voice sounded hoarse. "You should know. Just..." she swallowed, feeling how the past washed over her like a tidal wave, "just hold me tighter, okay?"
Moonlight penetrating through the not-quite-drawn curtains created intricate shadows on the walls. Rogue lay listening to the steady beating of Naruto's heart, while memories came in waves, bringing ghosts of the past.
"It happened on my birthday," she said quietly. "Sixteen years old. Jimmy and I... he wanted to hug me. To congratulate me."
Naruto silently stroked her back, and this simple touch kept her in the present, preventing her from fully plunging into the whirlpool of memories. Rogue spoke slowly, intermittently, and between her words hung heavy pauses filled with the unspoken. About how bright sunlight flooded the living room, how the freshly baked cake smelled, how Jimmy smiled, handing her a homemade card...
"I didn't understand what was happening," her voice faltered. "Just... his eyes rolled back, and he..."
She fell silent, but the silence spoke louder than words. About panic, about screams, about how her father ran into the room, seeing his son sprawled on the floor. Naruto felt how she trembled and held her closer, silently offering support.
"Dad tried to help," she buried her face in his chest. "I... I didn't pull away in time."
Her story flowed like a broken stream—fragments and snippets, behind which hid hours of waiting in the hospital, endless questions from doctors, incomprehension and fear. She would fall silent, then start speaking again, and Naruto listened as the story of that fateful night gradually unfolded.
"Mom was the last one who..." Rogue swallowed. "I just wanted her not to touch me. Pushed her away... too hard."
A heavy silence hung in the room. Clouds floated past the window, momentarily hiding the moonlight. The story continued to unfold in the half-darkness—about the commotion of the ambulance, about reporters besieging their home, about the last conversation with her mother.
"She came the next day," Rogue's voice grew quieter, as if the memory itself made her speak in a whisper. "She stood in the doorway of my room, and I remember... I remember how she looked at me. As if searching in my face for something that would tell her it was all a mistake. That her daughter was still there." A pause. Her fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "'What are you?' she said with bitterness that seemed ingrained in the words themselves. Not 'who,' but 'what.' You know, sometimes I still hear her saying it. In nightmares."
When Rogue continued, Naruto's eyes widened. He understood that her mother had thrown her daughter out of the house. In the half-darkness of the room, he tensed, not from anger—but from that special pain he always felt when confronted with parental rejection. His fingers momentarily froze on Rogue's back, then resumed their soothing movements. He knew that no words would heal this wound, so he simply remained close, allowing her to speak out.
"You know..." his voice sounded unexpectedly soft, his fingers weightlessly touching the white strand in her hair, "your brother would be proud of how strong you've become, dattebayo."
"Fool," Rogue exhaled, and in this word tears and a smile mixed, "only you could say something like that... right now."
She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. "Strong"—a strange word for someone who feels like a vase with cracks, where each crack is a scar from loss. She knew—sooner or later there would be no place for new cracks, and then the vase would simply fall apart. But now, in Naruto's embrace, in the warmth of his body and in this simple, almost childlike faith in people, the old cracks seemed to be gluing together.
Rogue rose on her elbow, looking into his eyes, shining in the half-darkness of the room. Warmth spread in her chest—not from excitement or passion, but from something deeper, primordial. She leaned in and kissed Naruto—at first slowly, almost lazily, but with each moment more greedily and demandingly, as if trying through this kiss to convey everything that filled her soul.
Naruto responded with no less passion, his hands sliding over her bare back, drawing her closer. The warmth of his body, the taste of his lips, his scent—all this was an anchor, keeping Rogue in the present, where the pain of the past no longer had power.