Aiden wished to conclude his mission against the gangsters, intending to leave New York City once this last job was done. However, as if ripped straight from a crime drama script, whenever someone resolves to quit after 'one last job,' that final act invariably goes awry.
Aiden found himself in this exact predicament, acutely aware that escape was futile. Professor Xavier's abilities could effortlessly locate Aiden, anywhere in the world. If the Professor truly decided to strike, Aiden had no chance of evading. The Professor was one of the rare and powerful Omega-level mutants, with psychic capabilities so immense he could invade any mind, alter thoughts, read intentions, and brainwash with ease—far beyond anything Hydra could muster.
"Lady, I know you've been hiding for a while now. Lower your hostility, and we can talk," the Professor said, his voice calm but obscure.
As everyone looked around in mild confusion, a tall figure leapt out from the stairwell entrance, her face as cold as frost, her eyes like icy stars, radiating with lethal intent.
Nightcrawler, standing behind the Professor and pushing the wheelchair, looked slightly uneasy. Though he had seen his share of battles, his heart remained softer than Cyclops and Storm's. Nicole's overwhelming presence forced him to retreat.
This mutant, known as Nightcrawler, had a legendary background. Both of his parents were formidable figures in their own right—his father, Azazel, a member of the Hellfire Club with formidable combat skills and teleportation abilities, and his mother, the renowned Mystique, a leader in the mutant world.
The offspring of such ruthless individuals turned out to be a child 'full of love for the world,' proving the old adage that life is unpredictable.
Nightcrawler possessed significant abilities, his dark blue skin adorned with intricate patterns, and a spade-tipped tail that gave him a devilish appearance. His teleportation ability was not only powerful but also made him a convenient 'mode of transportation,' despite his lower mutant classification.
The Professor didn't share Cyclops' haughty demeanor; this kindly old man seemed intent on reasoning with Aiden. The Professor and Magneto, two titans of the mutant world with contrasting styles, shared the same goal: to uplift their people. In contrast to the murderous Magneto, the Professor overflowed with goodness, always hoping for the best in everyone and everything. He would go to great lengths to help anyone who showed the slightest remorse.
This man was the epitome of universal love, an upright and honorable gentleman.
"I made a mistake letting Colossus and his apprentice approach you, leading to this situation. I won't make that mistake again," the Professor took full responsibility, causing Aiden to fall silent. The elderly man continued, "Likewise, we all err at times and deserve a chance to make amends. You're Aiden, correct?"
Aiden remained silent, statue-like, his mind racing for a way out. Clearly, the level three psychic defense wasn't enough to stop the Professor's intrusion. He had already gleaned Aiden's name from his thoughts.
Flee? Leap from the clock tower? Aiden dared not act rashly. As he had deduced, if the Professor were set on attacking, Aiden had no chance of survival. The Professor could shatter his thoughts with ease, and any abrupt action might provoke a drastic response, leading to Aiden's death. For now, the Professor's inclination to persuade was the best outcome, but standing idle while his mind was read wasn't a long-term solution. Sooner or later, the Professor would uncover everything, leaving Aiden in a dilemma.
"What brings me solace is the glimpse of guilt I see within you," the Professor's expression softened as he studied Aiden, "Harlem was indeed turned upside down last night, and your fellow Asians suffered greatly. I sense your remorse, but your current actions are not the solution. You believe escalating chaos will draw greater attention, lead to more police in New York, maybe even military deployment, right? Indeed, this might improve the city's security in the short term."
"Oh? He feels guilt?" Cyclops' voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me, if droves of officers come, won't many of your Asian kin also be swept away? Many are illegal immigrants. Are you sure you want more scrutiny, more officers? What if they end up on the streets begging, or worse, if deported?"
For the first time, Aiden's expression changed, his brow furrowing deeply.
"Scott, be kind," the Professor gently chided.
"Why should I be kind to a murderer! A man who's wreaked havoc in New York, a man drenched in blood and sin! He will never earn my respect!" Cyclops stood firm in his beliefs, and his words were hard to refute.
The clock tower fell silent, save for the howling winds and pounding rain. A brilliant flash of lightning accompanied a chilling statement: "Do you want to die, blind man?"
Cyclops turned slightly, his first glance meeting Nicole's icy gaze, which shone with an intimidating brilliance in the dim tower. His second look revealed Nicole's full appearance, a flawlessly beautiful woman, at least on the surface.
"Everyone, silence!" the Professor's voice grew stern, commanding the room with an innate authority.
"Aiden, you shouldn't fall like this, you should—oh, my God, you poor man." The Professor's tone held no mockery but rather empathy, his eyes widening, his words trembling.
Aiden's pupils constricted, no longer concerned with provoking the Professor. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, leaping up, bending the massive clock hand with his momentum. Regardless of the Professor's potential reaction, whether his brain was scrambled or his body frozen mid-air, Aiden could no longer stay.
A gust of wind met him head-on. Outside, the tempest raged like the apocalypse. Yet to Aiden, the world outside was paradise compared to the hell inside the clock tower.
Storm's eyes turned white as she commanded the winds, forcefully pulling Aiden back into the tower, denying him any chance of resistance.
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