While Stryker and Lucian plotted in the Bronx, a plane touched down in New York, flying in from the Soviet Union.
No sooner had it landed than a black car tore across the city streets, tires screeching as it pushed the limit of speed laws. Its destination: the now-ruined CIA mutant base.
"Jesus Christ... what the hell happened here?" Charles Xavier stepped out of the car, eyes wide in disbelief.
The building was a hollowed-out carcass of what it once was. Rubble everywhere. Blood stains still visible despite the best efforts to clean. The air still stank faintly of gunpowder and scorched metal.
Beside him, Erik Lensherr ran a hand across his forehead, his face tight. He didn't say anything at first — but the look said it all.
They'd only been gone a few days.
Just a few damn days.
And the place was a graveyard.
"This isn't an incident. It's a disaster."
Charles muttered more to himself than anyone else. Still in shock.
Mora had gotten a message while they were in the USSR — something had happened. Shaw had struck. But this... this was scorched earth.
"Where are the mutants who were stationed here?" Charles asked sharply, turning to a CIA field agent still guarding the perimeter.
"We didn't find any bodies," the man replied. "None of them."
Charles froze.
That could be good. Could be terrible.
No bodies meant no confirmed deaths.
But it also meant there was a chance the Black King — Sebastian Shaw — had taken them.
And that was a thought Charles couldn't tolerate.
Erik finally spoke up. "Charles... not all bad. Riptide and Azazel are dead. Rorschach killed them."
Charles blinked. "Rorschach?"
Hope returned to his eyes. Of course.
Of all the mutants in the facility, Rorschach was the wild card — unpredictable, brutal, and terrifyingly efficient. If anyone could hold the line when everything fell apart, it was him.
The CIA report only listed three invaders: Shaw, Riptide, and Azazel.
And Rorschach had killed two of them.
That meant the others had a fighting chance.
"Rorschach..." Charles exhaled, some tension easing from his shoulders. "Then maybe... maybe the rest of them escaped."
"That's my guess," Erik agreed. "Shaw couldn't have taken all of them alone. Not without resistance."
Still, Erik rubbed his temple, clearly trying to think through the possibilities. "New York's a big place. If they ran... where would they go?"
Charles paused, his mind flicking through memories.
Raven.
If she escaped, where would she go?
"Xavier Manor," he whispered. "My home. That's the one place Raven would feel safe."
The two men exchanged a glance, no further words needed. They climbed into the car and peeled off down the road, a trail of smoke in their wake.
Forty-five minutes later, Xavier Manor.
"Are you sure they're inside?" Erik asked, hesitating with his hand on the front door.
Charles didn't answer with words. He closed his eyes, focusing — then smiled.
"They're here. All of them. Not one missing."
Erik let out a long breath, visibly relaxing. "Charles, you never mentioned you lived in a place like this."
"You never asked," Charles replied dryly.
They stepped through the front door.
Inside, all the young mutants turned at once. Familiar faces: Raven. Hank. Darwin. Angel. Banshee.
And Rorschach.
"Charles!"
"Eric!"
"You're back!"
The room burst into energy. Smiles, laughter, relief. It was like a dark cloud had finally passed.
Charles looked around at them — young, shaken, but alive. His heart swelled with pride.
"I'm so glad you're safe," he said earnestly.
Even Erik's normally cold exterior had softened. "You've all done well. Remarkably well."
Kraken raised a hand sheepishly. "We didn't actually do anything. It was all Rorschach. He got us out."
"That's right," Banshee added. "He was the one who kept us alive."
Charles turned toward Rorschach, brows raised in admiration.
"Don't sell yourselves short," Charles said to the group. "You didn't surrender. You survived, fought, and made it here on your own. That's something to be proud of."
But then Raven stepped forward, her voice low.
"Charles... everyone at the base... they're gone."
The room fell silent.
The laughter faded. The weight of reality settled in again.
Erik nodded. "Tell us what happened."
Raven, Hank, and Darwin took turns recounting the events — the sudden attack, Shaw's arrival, the chaos. Rorschach's tactics. The deaths of Azazel and Riptide. Their escape.
Even with days between them and that moment, the memory still left them pale.
By the end of it, Charles and Erik stood in quiet awe. The story was almost unbelievable. Rorschach had held off two of Shaw's lieutenants and saved everyone.
"If he hadn't been there..." Kraken trailed off.
"Yeah," Hank nodded solemnly. "He saved all of us."
Charles stepped forward and placed a hand on Rorschach's shoulder. "You've exceeded every expectation I had, Rorschach. I'm proud to call you one of us."
Erik said nothing — but gave a firm, respectful nod Rorschach's way.
The war wasn't over. But today, they'd won a battle.
And for now, that was enough.
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