Bab 139: The Consequences

Nick Fury's complexion drained of color as he bore witness to the unfolding chaos. The sheer magnitude of the events unfolding before him threatened to cast Phil Coulson, a steadfast member of SHIELD, out of the organization's ranks.

Unaware of Fury's duplicity, Coulson persisted in his persuasion. "Director Fury, with SHIELD's resources and Alex as a consultant, handling this situation should be within our capabilities. Alex likely remains unaware of your involvement; otherwise, he would have approached SHIELD instead of heading to the White House."

Grasping at straws, Fury forced a nod. "Yes, that's a plausible explanation."

Yet, fear gripped Fury's heart as the reality of Alex's power settled in. With a mere gesture, Alex obliterated nearly a hundred Sentinels, defying any conventional means of control or containment. Even the notion of piercing his heart seemed futile against Alex's overwhelming might—a strength epitomized by controlling a sword spanning a thousand meters.

In essence, Alex appeared invincible, a force beyond calculation or restraint. Fury's attempts at strategic planning crumbled in the face of such unimaginable power.

Recalling the devastating records of the Cairo catastrophe, where millions met their end and the city itself transformed into pyramids, Fury comprehended the terror that mutant powers could unleash upon the world. It was a power that transcended human understanding, a harbinger of untold destruction.

Fury came to a grim realization: Alex wasn't just a fourth-level mutant; he stood as a fifth-level powerhouse, surpassing even the formidable Eric and Charles in strength.

With a heavy heart, Fury accepted the inevitable conclusion: defeat.

...

Meanwhile, at the White House, tensions soared to a fever pitch.

The President of the United States, trembling with disbelief, stared at the satellite feed displaying the swift and devastating movements of the colossal steel sword. "Wasn't it Nick Fury who assured us that the Sentinels could handle mutant threats? What is happening?!" he exclaimed, his frustration palpable.

"Our efforts have been futile, Mr. President. The Sentinels were decimated in moments," the presidential secretary confessed, a sense of helplessness tainting his words.

"Futile!" The President's hand slammed down on the table in frustration. "After all the effort and resources invested in the Sentinel plan, is this the outcome we face?!"

After a brief moment to gather himself, he turned to his secretary with a steely resolve. "Order the military to intervene and stop this mutant!"

"But, Mr. President, this is Washington. There will be civilian casualties," the secretary cautioned.

"Do you grasp the potential havoc an enraged and powerful mutant can wreak? If you do, then take action now!" the President demanded, his voice a mix of urgency and determination.

Outside Washington, a formidable military force swiftly assembled, their presence a testament to the gravity of the situation unfolding within the nation's capital.

Washington, as the heart of governmental power, boasted a permanent military presence ready to defend against any threat.

Armored vehicles, loaded with missiles and mortars, lined the streets alongside fighter jets armed with bombs, a formidable display of military might converging on downtown Washington.

Despite their training and discipline, many soldiers couldn't suppress the tremors of apprehension coursing through them as they braced for the inevitable clash with a mutant driven by rage.

"Heh, they're pulling out all the stops for one mutant. With this firepower, that mutant shouldn't stand a chance," remarked a soldier while positioning mortars with calculated precision.

"Don't underestimate him. Look up," another soldier cautioned, drawing his comrade's attention to the sky.

High above, a colossal shadow loomed, casting a dark pall over the scene—a colossal steel sword, stretching nearly a thousand meters, hovered ominously, a stark reminder of the imminent threat.

A collective sense of helplessness settled over the troops as they grappled with the realization of facing an adversary of such titanic proportions. How could conventional weaponry stand against such overwhelming power?

Nevertheless, orders were issued from high command, demanding action. Shells were launched into the sky, each one aimed at the massive sword, but their impact barely registered, leaving the towering weapon unscathed.

Meanwhile, Alex, aloof to the chaos below, maintained his focus on his ultimate target—the White House. The futility of the military's efforts was starkly apparent as they struggled to contend with a force beyond their comprehension.

As the military's assault intensified, Alex remained eerily composed amidst the chaos. Extending his hand calmly, he halted the incoming shells mid-air, their deadly trajectory redirected with a simple gesture that magnified their destructive power, unleashing explosions that ripped through the city, leaving devastation and carnage in their wake.

Fighter jets streaked across the sky, unleashing a torrent of bullets at Alex, but his power transcended mere steel manipulation. With a casual exertion of his will, he froze the bullets in mid-flight, rendering them harmless before redirecting them back with lethal force.

The jets, once symbols of military prowess, were ensnared by an invisible force, their metal frames twisted and torn as if they were mere playthings. The unfortunate souls aboard faced a grim fate as their aircraft were crushed and torn apart.

In a heartbeat, the military's formidable defense crumbled before Alex's unstoppable power. The illusion of human dominance shattered as their most advanced weaponry proved futile against a force beyond their comprehension.

(End of this chapter)

.....

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Bab 140: Magnetic Storm

"Huh?! What a powerful magnetic storm! Is it Eric?!" Charles exclaimed as he felt the sudden surge of magnetic energy.

Closing the textbook, he smiled at the children seated before him. "Okay, that's all for today's class. I have something to attend to."

Charles closed his eyes and his psychic senses expanded outward. He quickly discerned Alex manipulating a magnetic storm, shaping steel into a sword. "Is Alex out of his mind?" Charles muttered to himself, deeply concerned.

Seeing Alex's actions directed towards Washington, Charles realized the potential danger: the White House, the symbol of the U.S. presidency.

Charles's psychic power swept over Alex's estate, confirming his fears as he observed Raven and others unconscious, hinting at Alex's motives.

Reaching out mentally, Charles contacted Psylocke urgently. "Psylocke, please go to Alex's estate. Take care of Raven and the others."

Psylocke, sensing the urgency, didn't hesitate. "Understood, Professor. I'm on my way."

With that, Psylocke swiftly departed for Alex's manor, ready to confront whatever awaited her there.

After all, they're all on the outskirts of New York, so the distance is very short.

"No, I have to stop him from doing stupid things," Charles exclaimed as he stood up abruptly.

"If Alex really gets into the White House, I'm afraid Mutants won't be able to endure it when he arrives in the country."

Charles quickly boarded the X fighter. At this point, he had to go alone; taking anyone else would be pointless.

Meanwhile, having already left S.H.I.E.L.D., he was preparing to return to SHIELD to resume his celestial observations.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a report from a New York reporter.

"We're witnessing a thousand-meter-long steel sword in the sky headed towards Washington. This is beyond human reach. The Mutant responsible appears to have metal control abilities. We suspect it might be Magneto."

Upon seeing this news, Carol realized the figure atop the sword wasn't Magneto at all, but Alex. She'd been in touch with him recently.

"Is he out of his mind? He's about to plunge Mutants into chaos," Carol muttered incredulously, staring at the report.

Her friend Abigail Brand, an agent of SHIELD, was also a Mutant.

*Brrring!*

Carol's satellite phone suddenly rang.

She quickly answered, finding Abigail Brand on the other end.

"Carol, when are you coming back?" Abigail asked urgently.

"I was planning to return to SHIELD later, but now I've got another problem," Carol responded quickly.

"Trouble? That's not good, but fortunately, I might be able to help you out," Abigail offered.

"Don't joke. How can you possibly assist with a problem in space?" Carol replied with a hint of helplessness.

"Definitely not," Abigail's voice came from outside the door as she leaned against it, holding a satellite phone with a smile aimed at Carol.

"Late! Abigail, how did you drop in from the sky?" Carol's voice was filled with surprise.

"Definitely here for the task, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has stirred up a lot of trouble," Abigail shrugged, her tone casual.

"Big trouble?" Carol glanced at the news on the TV, unable to resist asking.

"Yeah, Nick Fury wanted to assemble a special superhero team, so he pitched the idea with mutants, but things went south during execution. There was a massive mishap. They underestimated the power of the target. Against the Mutant Sentinels, the guy just snapped his fingers and turned everything to grey. Now they're headed for Washington, so they pulled me down from the skies to handle this." Abigail had been up in space with the Sky Sword, and details about the U.S. weren't crystal clear in her briefings; she only knew the basics.

Carol's heart sank. She knew Alex—a kind and humorous person—how could he be pushed to this?

She had a sinking feeling. Could S.H.I.E.L.D. really mess things up this badly?

"If you're right, I guess that's the guy on TV," Carol nodded towards the screen showing the news report.