Harlem Avenue.
Once a run-down, nondescript street—just as dirty and chaotic as the rest of Harlem—it had now transformed into something of a scenic attraction.
The cold, concrete street had been overtaken by greenery—vines and branches spread out in all directions, crawling across buildings, cars, signs, and everything else in sight.
The scene was strikingly surreal.
The thick vines were so dense they completely blocked the entire street, forcing police vehicles to halt at a distance, unable to drive any further.
The cops had no choice but to abandon their cars and proceed on foot, each moving in alone.
Because the young man known as the "Lite Yamato" had yet to fully master his abilities, he couldn't precisely control every branch or vine as he wished.
So while the overgrowth posed a considerable obstacle to the police, it wasn't insurmountable. With enough manpower, machetes, and sheer persistence, they managed to hack their way through and clear a narrow path forward.
Bit by bit, they closed in on the convenience store.
But the store itself had become a massive cocoon, completely sealed off by a tangle of vines and branches. The Lite Yamato was wrapped up inside, isolated from the outside world.
The police were utterly helpless.
They couldn't even get close.
Any attempt to approach resulted in a barrage of lashing vines, aggressively warding them off.
Should they just shoot him?
That might have been an option under normal circumstances—but this incident had drawn national attention. There was no way they could justify a public execution like that now.
And so the scene settled into a tense standoff.
At the corners near the store, officers crouched behind cover, weapons raised and aimed directly at the vine-wrapped cocoon. The air was heavy with anticipation.
> "Give it up! You're out of options!"
"If you surrender now, we'll show leniency!"
One of the squad leaders even picked up a bullhorn, shouting at the barricaded figure inside.
> "I haven't done anything wrong! Why should I surrender?!"
A voice rang out from within, filled with anger and frustration.
> "Kid, we'll look into it. But you need to cooperate first!"
> "Cut the crap! You think I don't know what happens to mutants who get caught?"
> "You're mistaken. The ones we apprehended were all criminals."
> "Criminals, my ass! That's just your excuse!"
…
Neither side was willing to back down.
While the conversation continued, the squad leader discreetly signaled several officers to sneak around and get closer from hidden angles.
Crack!
But before they could get far, several vines lashed out, blocking their path and smacking them back in a flurry of branches.
Though the vines weren't especially lethal, they still left the officers battered and humiliated. One even lost his pistol, which clattered uselessly to the ground.
The squad leader's face darkened.
If this kept up, their entire team would become the laughingstock of the nation.
> "Final warning! If you don't surrender now, we'll take you by force!"
He shouted again, voice sharp with frustration.
BOOM!
Just then, a sonic boom echoed through the air. The officers instinctively looked up—just in time to see a blurry figure streak across the sky.
WHOOSH!
A powerful gust of wind swept through the scene, so forceful that it blew some officers' hats clean off.
> "What the hell?!"
Only now did they realize—somehow, someone had appeared right in the middle of the scene.
A young man.
Out of nowhere.
Everyone stood frozen, stunned.
Where did he come from?
Had they just seen a ghost?
> "Who are you?! How did you get in here?!"
The squad leader barked at the figure's back.
But Alex ignored him completely. Hands in his pockets, he casually strolled toward the convenience store.
> "Come out. No one's going to hurt you."
He spoke calmly to the young man inside.
This blatant disregard enraged the officers.
> "Stop right there! I asked you a question!"
The squad leader raised his gun, pointing it straight at Alex.
Clang!
But in the next instant, the pistol flew out of his hands—as if it had a life of its own.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
All around them, more guns clattered into the air, wrested from officers' hands and spinning midair. The barrels turned, now aiming back at their former owners.
Black muzzles.
Pointed at their heads.
Gulp.
The sound of dry swallowing filled the air.
Every officer froze, pale and drenched in cold sweat.
They didn't know how this was happening, but one thing was clear—if those triggers got pulled, their brains would splatter on the pavement.
No one dared to move.
> "Erik."
A faint smile appeared on Alex's lips as he slowly turned around, gazing toward a nearby alleyway.
And there—
A figure appeared.
Helmeted and confident, Erik strolled forward with two companions behind him.
He hadn't changed much, though something about him felt sharper, more commanding than before.
Gone were the familiar faces of Wingman and Braid. His new followers were complete strangers.
Clearly, Erik hadn't been idle these past months either—he'd gathered new allies.
Maybe the Brotherhood of Mutants was already taking shape.
> "Alex."
Erik returned the smile as he approached.
> "Not surprised to see you here."
> "Right back at you."
Alex shrugged.
> "Erik, I'm guessing you haven't exactly been lying low."
> "Hard to stay quiet when my brothers and sisters are being hunted," Erik said matter-of-factly. "But you too, huh? The whole 'Smiling Boy' incident… that was you, wasn't it?"
His sharp eyes watched Alex carefully.
The two mutants flanking Erik exchanged glances, visibly startled.
Erik suspected this guy was the one who'd flipped Smiling Boy?
Who was this man, to command such respect from Erik?
But Alex merely smiled and let the question slide.
> "Looks like you're here for the kid too."
> "That's right," Erik nodded. "I see a lot of potential in him. So even if it's you, Alex—I'm not stepping aside."
> "You… You're all mutants!"
A voice suddenly shouted.
The squad leader, who was still held at gunpoint, had the nerve to yell again.
> "You're not getting away! I'll arrest all of you!"
Alex almost rolled his eyes.
Was this guy for real?
Did he really think Erik wouldn't dare act just because he was a cop?
A flicker of killing intent passed through Erik's eyes.
The squad leader's gun—still hovering in front of him—began to twitch.
The trigger started to move.
> "Erik, that's enough."
One of Erik's followers suddenly snapped out of a trance, reaching out to stop him.
He stepped forward, speaking calmly.
And in that instant, all the police officers froze in place—as if some invisible force had locked their bodies.
> "Charles."
Erik muttered the name.
He understood immediately.
> "I knew you'd show up."
Erik stared at his "follower," eyes filled with layered meaning.
At the same time, Alex turned his gaze toward another passageway.
There—
As elegant as ever, Charles emerged.
He walked slowly toward them, flanked by two mutants: Sean and Havok.
Finally, the trio stood face to face.
Erik.
Charles.
Alex.
Charles looked at them both, emotions flickering across his expression.
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