Five kilometers outside the manor, a golden light fell like a meteor. As it faded, Dismask appeared with Charles, Erik, and the Elf.
"Alright, head that way and you'll reach it. I'm out." Dismask didn't wait for their response before vanishing into the void again.
A cold wind blew. The wide, open plain around them seemed even more desolate under the sky.
"We're… walking back?" Charles raised an eyebrow.
"Doesn't bother me, but I'm worried about you two," Erik said with a smirk, arms crossed. A five-kilometer hike was nothing to him, but Charles had nearly collapsed halfway up a hill before. Erik seriously doubted he'd make it even one kilometer.
As for the Elf, she looked every bit the pampered noblewoman—not someone you'd count on to handle a trek.
"But there's no car around! Not even a person in sight!" Charles moaned.
He seriously suspected Dismask had done this on purpose. While the manor was technically on the outskirts of town, at least the front side faced a national road with the occasional passing car.
But this was the back—undeveloped wasteland. Nothing and no one around.
…
…
Even if they wanted someone from the manor to pick them up, they couldn't call. This wasn't the future with advanced tech—there were no such things as mobile phones.
"Your telepathy won't work?" Erik asked.
"What do I look like to you? A mobile phone?" Charles rolled his eyes.
"Aren't you?"
"Go to hell! My telepathy only works within a one-kilometer range."
"Then let's move. Standing here won't help," Erik shrugged.
"Fine." Charles sighed, reluctantly accepting it. He doubted his legs would even be his by the time they got home.
At that moment, the Elf, who had been in a dazed state, suddenly snapped back to awareness and—
"Aaaahhhhh!!!!"
A piercing scream rang through their ears like a steel needle stabbing straight into their brains.
"What the hell?!" Erik's face turned icy as razor-sharp metal slivers flew up and circled the Elf's neck.
"What did you… What did you do to me?! Where is this?! Who was that man?! Who is he?!" the Elf cried out, eyes wide with fear.
"We didn't do anything. Just brought you back to our base. As for him—that's not something you need to know," Erik said coldly.
"But he… he did something to me! I went to some strange place… and there were… there were dead people everywhere…" Her voice trembled.
Erik's eye twitched. Now he knew why the Elf had acted like a puppet earlier. He understood what Dismask had done—he had sent her on a field trip to Yomi, the land of the dead.
Damn, Erik thought. Lucky she didn't go insane from it.
Despite the internal rant, Erik kept his expression cold and detached: "I said it's not your concern. Now move."
Still shaken but realizing Erik wasn't bluffing—and feeling the chill of the blade at her neck—the Elf could only obey.
Then a gust of wind made her shiver, and she stopped: "Gentlemen, aren't you going to offer me something to wear? Hardly the gentlemanly thing to leave a lady like this."
Charles and Erik blinked, then turned to look at her—both of them flushing slightly.
Erik tossed her his coat without hesitation.
They'd completely forgotten the Elf was still in thin sleepwear, her pale skin and curvy figure fully exposed, enhanced by a pair of butterfly wings—she was absolutely enchanting.
After putting on the coat, the Elf didn't complain further. Quietly, she followed behind them toward the manor.
Inside the manor, Elizabeth, codename Butterfly, informed the others: "Charles and Erik are back. And they brought a trophy."
"That fast?" Warren, codename Angel, asked.
"Dismask dropped them off five kilometers behind the manor. Someone go pick them up," Elizabeth said.
"Huh? Dismask stepped in? That's odd. Didn't Lord Melin forbid the Saints from interfering?" Armando, codename Darwin, frowned.
"No idea. But they must've learned something important to rush back like this. Armando, go fetch them. Fast."
"Alright, alright. When did you start giving orders?" Armando grumbled as he left.
Elizabeth just smiled—she knew Armando wasn't actually complaining, just joking.
Soon, Armando returned with Charles and the others.
"This is the trophy you mentioned?" Raven asked, glaring at the Elf. She hated female enemies—especially beautiful ones in sleepwear.
"She's Sebastian Shaw's telepath. She led us there to strike a deal," Charles explained.
"What kind of deal?" Warren asked.
"Before we talk about that, she told us something important. Sebastian Shaw is coming," Erik said seriously.
Though they had more people now, Shaw was a terrifying foe—and he never came alone.
"Is he after us? Can we trust this info?" Warren frowned. He realized now why Dismask had stepped in—Erik must've asked for help, worried for their safety.
"Not sure. But we'd better assume it's true. So—do we fight, or evacuate?" Erik asked.
"Fight. That's why we're here—to take him down," said Calvin, codename Mimic.
"I agree. This is our turf. We've got time to prepare," Elizabeth added.
"Alright, let's get ready—"
Just then, Moria's car screeched to a stop at the front gate. She burst in like a maniac, yelling, "Charles, RUN! That demon—Sebastian Shaw is coming for you! You can't win!"
"Calm down, Moria. What happened?" Charles caught her as she nearly collapsed and used his telepathy to soothe her fear.
"It's him—Sebastian Shaw." Her terror didn't fade. "He attacked the lab. Clyde's dead. Everyone's dead. They killed everyone in the lab!"
"What?!" The others tensed, faces darkening. Killing enemies was one thing—but a massacre of innocents was something they loathed.
"He deserves to die."
"Can't let scum like that live."
"That bastard. Escaped from Lord Melin last time, but this time—I'll end him myself!"
Everyone was furious.
"Charles, I'm sorry—I can't help you. But run. They don't know where you are yet. You have to go—they're monsters!" Moria begged.
"Calm down, Moria. You're safe here with us," Charles said, soothing her—but his eyes blazed with determination. Shaw had gone too far.
He remembered that scheming, overweight man who once called them monsters but still helped, even got the coast guard involved, and introduced him to Hank.
They'd parted ways eventually, but Charles had been grateful.
And now he was dead—along with hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent researchers.
Charles no longer just wanted to stop Shaw for the sake of mutant kind.
Now… it was personal.
"Hmph, if she hadn't come, you'd still be hidden," the Elf suddenly sneered. "But now they know exactly where you are."
"What do you mean?" Charles froze and turned to her.
"You ever wonder why she's still alive? Shaw—I know you're here," the Elf said, staring at empty air.
Everyone tensed.
Sure enough, in the next second, black mist swirled in the room, and Sebastian Shaw appeared—flanked by Azazel the Red Demon and Riptide.
Clap clap clap…
Shaw applauded as he stepped forward. "Bravo, my most precious collectible. Such a shame you always end up making poor choices."
"Maybe because you only see me as a collectible," the Elf said coldly, stepping back.
"You should be honored. These others aren't even worth collecting," Shaw sneered—then looked at Erik with a different tone. "Except you, Lensherr. You're my greatest creation. Come to me now, and I'll give you everything."
"Heh, today's not April Fools, Shaw."
"A shame," Shaw sighed. His smile vanished. "If I can't have it—then I'll destroy it."