Diamondheart watches the trapped figure, her crystalline form radiating a soft, blue light. "Ben, what should we do with her?"
Ben studies the figure trapped in Diamondheart's crystal prison. He thought about the police. That's what a hero would do. Hand her over. But those eyes... They spoke of a harsh life, a brutal past. Ben sees a strange mix. Resilience, yes, and a feral ferocity. But also, fear. Deep-seated worry.
There has to be something else going on here, Ben muses. The look in the woman's eyes haunts him. He couldn't shake the feeling that this girl was more victim than villain. He couldn't just turn her over to the authorities. Not yet, at least.
"I don't know," Ben confesses, his voice thoughtful. He steps closer to the crystalline prison, examining the figure. "But I don't think we can just hand her over."
Diamondheart tilts her head, the light shifting across her crystalline face. "Why not?"
Ben turns to Diamondheart. "I just… I have a feeling about this one. I can't explain it." He walks to the crystal cage. "Hey," he calls out softly. "Who are you?"
The girl inside remains silent, eyes narrowed, muscles tensed. She does not respond.
"It's okay," Ben assures. He retracts his helmet, revealing his face. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name's Ben, and she's Diamondheart. What's yours?"
After a long pause, her voice breaks. "Laura," she mutters, barely audible.
Ben's brow creases. "Laura…" He glances around the room, taking in the bloody scene. The bodies lay scattered, ripped to pieces. These were not typical criminals. The tactical gear suggested a trained force, something more. "Were these men after you, Laura?"
Laura hesitates, her gaze darting between Ben and Diamondheart. Slowly, she nods.
"Why?" Ben asks, his voice tinged with concern. He notices the subtle tremor in her hands, the guarded expression in her eyes. "What did they want?"
"Weapon," Laura replies, the word sharp and clipped. "They want a weapon back."
"And I'm guessing you're the weapon."
Laura offers nothing.
Ben sees her pain. He imagines all the hardships she went through. Weapon. It seemed she lacked a proper upbringing. Ben notices the sadness, the hurt, those many times he witnessed as a firefighter. From those who lost family. Ben noticed her claws, her ability to recover from wounds. She seems like Wolverine, from the comics and movies.
But Ben holds back those thoughts, since he thinks it's a sore spot.
"Okay, Laura," Ben declares, thinking. "I'm not going to let them take you." He faces Diamondheart. "Can you let her out?"
Diamondheart looks at Laura, then at Ben, her expression indecisive. "Are you sure, Ben? She's dangerous."
"I know," Ben says, his gaze unwavering. "But I think she deserves a chance. We all do."
Laura looked at Ben strangely, her gaze intense.
"Hey, just don't go all ninja on us as soon as you're free," Ben jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
Diamondheart, with a final, assessing look at Laura, recedes the crystals. The prison shatters, and Laura is free.
Laura stood in front of Ben, unsure what to do. She seems uncomfortable.
"Come with us," Ben invites. "We can figure something out. Find you a safe place."
Diamondheart's eyes widen. "Ben, are you sure that's a good idea?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.
Ben ignores her, focusing on Laura. To him, she looked like a lost kid. Scared, and alone. Just like me, Ben thought.
Laura looks at Ben with caution, her green eyes piercing. "Why?" she asks, her tone flat.
"You look like you need help," Ben replies, stepping closer. "I know we just met, and everything is weird, but I genuinely want to help you, Laura. You can trust me."
Laura shakes her head slightly. "You will be in danger," she warns. "If I come with you."
Ben confidently puffed his chest and says "I ain't no pushover." He strikes a heroic pose, Diamondheart mirroring him.
Ben reached his hand out to Laura, palm up.
Laura looked at Ben's hand, then to Ben's face, then to Diamondheart, uncertainty etched on her features. She hesitates, her muscles coiled tight. She takes a leap of faith.
Laura hesitantly reached out and shook Ben's hand, her grip surprisingly firm, but trembling.
A wide smile graces Ben's face, relieved she trusted him. He knew it would be hard. He wasn't an idiot. Her expression, her hesitation... But he was determined to help. To show her that there were people who cared.
"Great! Let's get out of here." Ben pulls his hand away, gesturing towards the exit. "This place gives me the creeps." He gives Diamondheart a look. "Right, Diamondheart?"
Diamondheart nods, still wary, but follows Ben's lead. "Agreed. The sooner we leave, the better."
The three moved with caution, mindful of any possible dangers. Ben kept a close eye on Laura, sensing her anxiety. They exited the structure, leaving behind a silent scene.
Hours drifted. The late afternoon sun cast shadows across the deserted street.
[Tactical Team One, move in. Secure the perimeter. Confirm X-23's status.]
A squad of armed figures clad in midnight combat suits swiftly infiltrated the building. Their movements were precise, coordinated, professional.
Inside, a chilling view waited. The team paused, surveying the remains. The damage inflicted was brutal, efficient. [Confirmed, multiple casualties. No survivors.]
A grim silence followed the report. Each figure scanned the scene, collecting data. Weapons, blood samples, anything that could shed light on X-23. [X-23 is not here. She escaped.]
A new message came through their comms. [All units, directive from command: Immediate extraction. Do not pursue.]
The squad exchanged confused looks, but protocol was clear. No argument. [Understood. Tactical Team One, moving to the extraction point.] They exited, disappearing as swiftly as they arrived.
Max and Gwen strolled into the Tennyson mansion, the familiar scent of home wafting around them. "Ben, we're home!" Max called out, his voice booming through the hall. They wandered towards the kitchen, expecting a snack and perhaps a story from Ben about his afternoon escapades.
The sight that greeted them wasn't quite what they anticipated. Ben was indeed there, Diamondheart by his side, as usual. But a new girl sat with them, munching on chips, a mix of unfamiliarity and caution in her eyes. Junk food littered the counter.
"Ben," Max questioned, his brow furrowed with curiosity, "aren't you going to introduce your friend to us?"
Ben looked up, a sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, right! Grandpa Max, Gwen, this is Laura." He turned to the girl. "Laura, this is my Grandpa Max, and that's my dweeb cousin, Gwen."
Gwen raised an eyebrow, a playful glare directed at Ben. "Who are you calling a dweeb, doofus?" she retorted, crossing her arms.
Max chuckled, stepping forward with a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Laura. I'm Max." He extended his hand in greeting.
Gwen followed suit, her initial surprise replaced with genuine interest. "Hey, Laura. I'm Gwen." She offered a friendly wave.
Laura offered a soft "Hi," her gaze shifting between Max and Gwen.
Max's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed Laura. He sensed something different about her, something that spoke of a troubled past and hidden abilities. Deciding to trust Ben's judgment, Max kept his thoughts to himself.
Gwen, always quick with a joke, chimed in, "I didn't know you had friends, Ben. This is a surprise."
"Ha-ha, very funny, Gwen," Ben said, rolling his eyes. "We just met a bit ago."
"Oh?" Gwen pushed, a smirk playing on her lips. "How'd you two meet?"
Laura's voice was low and direct. "He found me."
Gwen's eyes widened, intrigued. "Found you?"
Ben's mind raced, searching for a believable story. He couldn't exactly say, Yeah, I found her in a building full of dismembered bodies. Instead, he stammered, "Uh, yeah, I saw her walking on the side of the road. Looked like she needed some help, so I offered her a ride."
Sandra and Carl came through the back door, grocery bags in hand. "We got your favorite, honey," Sandra called out, stepping into the kitchen.
The cheerful greeting came to an immediate halt when they saw Laura. "Benjamin, who is this?" Sandra asked, setting down the bags, her eyes fixed on the girl.
"Mom, Dad," Ben said, a hint of nervousness in his tone. "This is Laura. Laura, these are my parents."
Carl gave Laura a polite nod. "Nice to meet you."
Sandra's face softened slightly, a warm smile spreading across her face. "It's lovely to meet you, dear."
Ben cleared his throat, shuffling his feet slightly. "Uh, Mom, Dad, there's something I wanted to ask you guys..."
Sandra turned her full attention to Ben, concern etching her face. "What is it, sweetie?"
Ben hesitated, then blurted out, "Well, Laura doesn't really have a place to go right now, and I was wondering if... if she could maybe stay here with us for a bit?" He looked at his parents with pleading eyes, hoping they would understand.
Gwen's jaw dropped slightly, her eyes darting between Ben and Laura. Since when did Ben become a social worker? she thought, bewildered. He barely knows this girl!
Sandra's eyes locked onto Laura's. They weren't the bright, sparkling eyes of a regular teenager. There was a deep, almost unnerving sadness within them, a silent story of struggle and affliction that belied her youth. Carl, too, noticed it. It was a hardship that he couldn't ignore.
"Does your family know where you are?" Sandra asked softly, her voice filled with gentle concern.
Laura's gaze dropped to her lap. "My mother is dead."
The air grew heavy with sorrow. Carl stepped forward, his expression compassionate. "What about your father, Laura? Do you have any contact with him?"
"I never met him," Laura replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
A shared wave of sympathy washed over the Tennyson parents. They exchanged worried glances, silently acknowledging the pain this girl had endured. They were no longer looking at an outsider. They were looking at someone who needed them.
"Oh, honey," Sandra whispered, her heart aching for the girl. She reached out, gently placing a hand on Laura's shoulder. "Of course, you can stay with us. We have plenty of rooms, and we'd be happy to have you."
Carl nodded in agreement. "What your mom said. Consider this your home, Laura."
Max stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "Welcome to the family, kiddo. Always happy to have another friendly face around."
Gwen, still slightly taken back by everything, smiled reassuringly at Laura. It'll be nice to have another girl here, she thought. "Yeah, it'll be fun having someone my age to hang out with."
All eyes turned to her. Laura seemed conflicted, overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness. She looked up, her green eyes searching each face in the room. "Are you sure? It's okay for me to be here?" Her voice was barely audible, filled with uncertainty.
Ben stepped closer, his expression gentle and earnest. "Yeah, Laura, we're sure. You're welcome here. We want you to stay." He offered a reassuring smile, hoping to chase away her worries.
Laura's gaze dropped to the floor, and she nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their offer.
Deep within the snowy peaks of the Swiss Alps, shielded from the world by a cloak of ice and secrecy, rested one of The Facility's many clandestine bases. The Facility: a shadow organization devoted to weaponizing human potential by any means necessary. Their methods were as brutal as they were effective.
Inside the base, a scene of gruesome carnage unfolded. Bodies of scientists, security personnel, and failed experiments were scattered across the sterile corridors, each a grisly of the chaos that had erupted.
Amid the carnage, a tall, athletic woman moved with predatory grace. This was Kimura. She was a picture of stylish menace, a leather jacket slung over her shoulders, dark pants hugging her lean frame, and combat boots that crunched softly on the blood-stained floor. Her short, jet-black hair was styled in a sharp bob cut that framed a face both striking and severe. Her eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the scene, missing nothing. Kimura was The Facility's top enforcer, chosen not just for her skill but for her unique physiology: unbreakable skin and bones. She felt no pain. Nothing hurt her.
She paused beside a mangled corpse of a scientist. Bending down, she casually rifled through the dead man's pockets, her expression devoid of any emotion. Kimura was a predator, and these were merely the leftovers of a hunt. Her hunt for Laura.
[SCRATCH]
Her fingers brushed against something smooth and cylindrical. She pulled it out: a glass tube filled with a transparent blue liquid. Etched on the side was a single, chilling word: TRIGGER.
Kimura held the vial up to the dim light, a sadistic smirk stretching across her lips. Her voice was a low purr, laced with anticipation. "Oh, little wolf," she mused, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "I can't wait to find you. This is going to be so much fun."
With the vial of Trigger secured in her grasp, Kimura turned and strode out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. She spared not a glance at the carnage she left behind, her mind focused on one thing: the hunt. The bodies were nothing. Laura was everything.
***
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Advance chapters are in my P@|r3on - Najicablitz