The Genoshan Job - Part 3
Posted on Thu Feb 27th, 2025 @ 2:36am by Connor Bruin & Hayden Davis & Kennedy Kelly & Kayleigh Marshall & Maeve MacKenna & Drew Williams & Desmond Greene & Alex Summers
5,158 words; about a 26 minute read
Mission:
Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Central Station | Genosha
Timeline: December 7th, 1990
The train rumbled into the central station, steel wheels grinding against the tracks as it slowed to a stop beneath the massive, industrial vault of Hammer Bay's transportation hub. No sirens. No immediate storm of Magistrates flooding onto the platform. No automated defenses kicking into action.
Victor Creed, standing near the front of the group, narrowed his golden eyes. His muscles, coiled and ready for the expected chaos, remained tense. "Something ain’t right," he muttered.
Alex Summers was already scanning the station, hands crackling faintly with pent-up plasma energy. "No alarms, no guards to be seen? That’s not normal," he said, his voice hushed but firm. He looked over at John Proudstar, who stood between him and Victor, arms crossed, lips pressed in a firm line.
"I say we use it to our advantage," Alex continued, taking a measured step forward. "We sneak in, find the generator, plant the charges, and get out before anyone even knows we’re here." He turned, addressing the Resistance fighters directly. "If we can cripple the rail system without alerting every Magistrate in the city, that buys us time. Time to hit the Flesh Factory before they even know we’re coming."
Victor let out a low, guttural chuckle, his fangs flashing in the dim light. "Or—and hear me out—we blast through this place, kill everyone in our way, and send a real message." His grin widened, sharp as a predator's. "Stealth is a waste of time. We ain't ghosts, Summers. We're a goddamn war machine."
Alex clenched his jaw. "Yeah? And if we go in guns blazing and they turtle up we blow the station? Then what?" He shook his head. "We have the element of surprise for once, Victor. Let's use it."
Victor scoffed, rolling his shoulders like an impatient animal ready to pounce. "Surprise don't win wars. Fear does. And fear comes from showing them what happens when they underestimate us."
John, standing between them, exhaled sharply. He ran a hand through his dark hair, clearly torn. "This isn't just about tactics," he said finally. "It's about what we want the people to see. Do we want them to see a Resistance that can outthink the Genegineer? Or one that's just as brutal as his Magistrates?"
Drew looked about the deserted transportation hub before turning to Victor. "I say we place the charges and get to the Flesh Factory. That is what you said was the mission. The longer we wait, the less likely we will be able to save those being held and tortured."
Hayden thought about what John had just said. In her time with the X-Men, she had learned that perception played a big role in lots of things. How they were perceived by other mutants, humans, mutant haters, and even politicians differed.
"Couldn't there be a balance of some kind? I for one don't want to go back to the Professor having been accused of being as evil as these guys or some of the others we've gone up against. What they're doing to our kind makes me mad and it needs to be stopped, especially having experienced just a little bit of it. But what does it do for the mutant cause if the X-Men are reported to be no better than the Brotherhood?"
"She has a point." Kayleigh looked towards Hayden, then back at the others. "We can't be seen that way, it'll destroy everything Professor Xavier has worked so hard for."
“We aim high,” Kennedy replied. “Our kind shouldn’t be feared. If we can get in and take the Flesh Factory without excessive brutality then that’s the route we take. This isn’t just about the war but also its aftermath, trading one monster for another isn’t a victory.”
Drew gestured for Connor to step away from the group for a moment. He was a bit surprised to find the transportation hub deserted. "Look, man, I don't have a problem with the whole rescue mission to save Kurt, Maeve and Ty, but I won't go to war. That's not what I signed up for. I'm not going to kill people just because Victor wants to do that. My concern is what if we're already too late and those reinforcements are already at the Flesh Factory. I want to scout ahead. See what I can see. That okay with you?"
Connor gave Drew a firm nod, his expression resolute. He brought his hands up, his speech-generating device catching up with his signs.
"WE ARE THE X-MEN. WE MAINTAIN STEALTH. WE MAINTAIN HONOR."
Drew gave him a grateful nod before slipping away to scout ahead, vanishing into the shadows of the station.
Victor, meanwhile, let out an exaggerated snarl. "Yeah, yeah, honor and all that." He crouched low, muscles tensing as his claws flexed. "We’ve wasted enough time already." Then, with a burst of savage energy, he lunged forward, bounding ahead on all fours, moving like a beast loosed from its chain.
The others followed at a more cautious pace, scanning their surroundings as they pushed deeper into the station. The silence was oppressive. There were no guards, no security turrets, no automated defenses. It was eerie.
When they caught up with Drew at a fork in the corridor, signs pointed in two directions—one toward the generator room, the other toward an evacuation tunnel leading directly to the Flesh Factory.
Victor came to a stop, sniffing the air as his golden eyes flicked between the two paths. "This is a damn chokepoint," he muttered. "Classic bottleneck. They could funnel us through here and pick us off like rats." His tail flicked irritably before he turned to John Proudstar. "The main force needs to keep moving before they spring the trap. You take 'em ahead. We’ll handle the generator."
Alex immediately shook his head. "Splitting up is a bad idea. We have no idea what’s waiting for us down there."
Victor scoffed. "You see a better way, Summers? 'Cause I ain't got time to hold your hand."
Proudstar folded his arms, considering the situation. Finally, he gave a nod. "Victor's right. The whole unit can't squeeze into a generator room. We keep moving forward. But hurry, Creed."
Victor flashed a sharp-toothed grin. "Don't have to tell me twice."
Proudstar gave the order, and the main force along with Tandy followed him into the tunnel toward the Flesh Factory, leaving the strike team—Alex, Victor, Connor, Kennedy, Kayleigh, Drew, Desmond, and Hayden—to take out the generator.
They descended the lower floor, where the generator room loomed before them. It was welded shut.
Before they could react, a projector flickered to life, casting the smug, calculated face of Dr. Moreau onto the wall.
Moreau gave a slow, measured sigh, almost as if he pitied them. "And so you walk willingly into the cage," he mused. "Predictable. I must admit, I had wondered if you would prove more... sentient."
Victor bared his fangs. "I'm gonna gut you for what you've done."
Moreau watched their reactions with a clinical detachment, his expression never shifting from its mask of polite disinterest. "You must understand," he continued, his voice carrying the practiced cadence of a professor lecturing inattentive students. "This was inevitable. Your movement, your resistance, your hope… all variables accounted for."
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. Then he let out a small sigh of what could almost be mistaken for disappointment.
"You assumed you were storming the gates," he mused. "But you are the ones caught in the flood."
The projector feed flickered, shifting to grainy surveillance footage of the evacuation tunnel. The Resistance fighters, led by John Proudstar, were caught in a raging tempest—a hurricane-force wind tunnel that had transformed the narrow passage into a death trap. Mutants and Magistrates alike were being hurled against the walls, ripped from the ground, or simply suffocated as the air itself turned against them.
At the eye of the storm stood Windrider, her arms raised, her silver hair whipping in the gales she commanded. She was utterly calm, her expression serene as she unleashed the full wrath of the storm upon them.
Moreau turned back to the strike team, his gaze unreadable. "Your army is already breaking," he said. "They will not make it to the Flesh Factory. And you?" He gave a slight shrug. "You will have to make do with my latest creation."
The wall exploded inward.
The Rhino barreled through, and the impact was seismic. Victor barely had time to brace before the enormous brute slammed him through the opposite wall. Both went crashing into the next chamber in a tangled mess of concrete and steel.
Alex staggered back, eyes wide. "What the—?!"
"HELP HIM!" Connor shouted.
But before anyone could react, Victor's voice rasped from the other side of the hole. "GET TO THE DAMN GENERATOR!"
Then the Rhino came flying back through the opening—tossing Victor like a ragdoll into a pile of rubble.
The Rhino was a walking battering ram of muscle and armor, standing nearly seven and a half feet tall and weighing well over 700 pounds. His entire massive frame was encased in an artificial hide, a thick, gray, nearly indestructible polymer that mimicked the texture and toughness of an actual rhinoceros’ skin. The material was fused directly to his body, making it as much a part of him as his own flesh and bone.
His arms were the size of tree trunks, corded with absurdly thick muscle, and his shoulders were broad enough to plow through a brick wall without slowing down. His legs were built like hydraulic pistons, designed for raw, unstoppable force.
The most defining feature was the sharp, menacing horn protruding from his forehead, a reinforced, unbreakable weapon that could tear through steel like paper. It was part of his suit, yes, but it moved as though it were an extension of his own body, every twitch of his neck sending it slashing through the air.
His face was locked in a permanent scowl, his beady eyes full of dull, animalistic aggression. And now, he was coming for them like an unstoppable wrecking ball, his heavy footfalls shaking the entire station with every step.
Victor groaned, shaking off the hit, but the Rhino was already charging again—this time straight for the rest of them.
"Scatter!" Alex bellowed. He tried to let off a blast from his hands, but he had to dodge sideways himself. Despite his immense size, the Rhino was just too quick.
Drew took one look at the irresistible force that was Rhino and the destruction he had already wrought. An idea came to mind, one that wouldn't need explosives and might, just might get two birds with one stone. He pulled alongside Connor. "Get to the generator and amp it up to full power. I'm gonna play with this guy and bring him to the generator in two minutes." He then stopped and faced Rhino with a smirk on his face. "Question for you big guy. Are you more stupid than you are ugly or more ugly than you are stupid. I got money on more ugly?"
"I'm gon' crush you!" Rhino yelled as he continued his rampage at the group which had barely managed to duck out of the way.
Drew watched as the behemoth charged at him. He turned and sprinted for the exit. He was going to lead the knucklehead on a merry chase for a minute or two and then bring him back around for what would hopefully be a shocking experience. One that left the Rhino in a whole lot of pain.
While Drew sprinted away, Rhino had crashed through another wall and doubled back on his heels for another pass. Seeing the strike team had fanned out so they weren't in a huge cluster, he went for the wounded Victor who presented the biggest target aside from Desmond.
"Nothing stops the Rhino!" The over-sized mutate threw his head forward and ran straight for Victor who was struggling to get up off all fours.
Connor had proceeded to the generator room doors only to confirm they were indeed welded shut. When he looked back and saw a battered Victor about to get trampled by the Rhino, his eyes grew wide. "HELP HIM!"
Hayden picked herself up from having dodged debris and chunks of wall and rubbed her head, "That's going to hurt worse later." She heard Connor's call and looked at Victor. Hayden pulled together as much of the air molecules in the room as she dared and created a large, slick puddle of water directly in front of the Rhino. "Let's see what a lack of traction does."
Hayden’s trick worked—partially.
The instant Rhino’s massive feet hit the slick puddle, his momentum betrayed him. His footing gave way, and instead of charging straight into Victor, he let out a surprised roar as his bulk skidded sideways. His sheer weight carried him forward regardless, but instead of trampling Victor, he crashed shoulder-first into a stack of old steel crates, sending them flying in every direction.
Victor scrambled backward, barely dodging a crate that smashed into the floor where he had been lying. His golden eyes snapped toward Hayden, his lips curling in something between a snarl and a grin. "Hah! Not bad, kid." He rolled onto one knee, shaking off the worst of his injuries. "Now put him on his ass for good!"
Connor, meanwhile, had no time to watch the chaos unfold. He tested the welded door again, pressing his gloved hands against the metal, but the heat-sealed edges didn’t budge. That meant explosives, a cutting torch, or something hotter than human flesh could handle. He turned sharply.
"EMBER," he signed, signing in rapid movements before translating aloud. "HELP ME MELT THIS DOOR. THE REST OF YOU, TAKE DOWN THE RHINO."
Kayleigh turned her attention to the task at hand, there was plenty of what she needed to focus heat on the door. Concentrating hard she refocused the heat energy around her, directing it onto the door in a focussed concentrated wave of searing heat.
Behind them, Rhino let out a guttural snort and forced himself back to his feet, shaking debris from his thick hide. His red, furious gaze landed on the team, and he pawed at the ground like a bull preparing for another charge.
"You little punks think you’re gonna stop me?!" he bellowed. "I'll smash every last one of ya!"
Hayden was onto something with slowing and stopping The Rhino rather than physically attacking. She recalled their last fight with The Juggernaut on the lawn of the mansion, this massive man wasn’t that much different. Waiting until The Rhino charged once more, Kennedy aimed for the ground below his feet rather than at the thick hide of The Rhino directly. She fired a single golden arrow into the cement ground to create a crater in the ground under his feet.
Kennedy's arrow struck true. The explosion beneath Rhino's feet sent a shockwave through the ground, collapsing the weakened concrete and throwing him into a tumbling, uncontrolled roll. His sheer mass made him an unstoppable force, but now that force had no direction.
He let out a furious bellow as his horn gouged deep into the floor, plowing through the cement like a runaway jackhammer, leaving a jagged trench in his wake.
Victor wasted no time. The moment Rhino's roll slowed, he pounced, a blur of muscle and claws. He landed squarely on the brute’s back, snarling as he sank his talons into the thick exosuit. He tore at the seams, ripping through the armored plating in a vicious and relentless assault.
But Rhino was built for durability, and even Victor's savage strength had its limits. The wounds were shallow, the damage minimal, and the beast roared in pure fury rather than pain. "You flea-bitten freak! Get OFF me!"
With a sudden, violent jerk, Rhino twisted his upper body in a brute-force spin. His massive arms swung wildly as he bucked like a raging bull. Victor clawed deeper, holding fast, but Rhino’s strength was unrelenting.
Crack!
Victor’s grip finally slipped, and with one final spin, Rhino sent him flying. The wild momentum carried them both through another wall, sending metal and concrete flying in every direction.
Victor hit the ground in a rough roll, blood streaking from fresh gashes where Rhino's armor had caught him. He growled, shaking himself off. "God, I hate this guy," he snarled.
The dust cleared, revealing Rhino staggering back into view, panting but still very much in the fight. His suit had taken real damage now—jagged tears in the fabric revealed raw, bruised flesh underneath. He ran a hand over his bloodied side, snarling as he eyed the team with renewed rage.
"You think that's gonna stop me?!" Rhino bellowed, slamming a fist into his own chest. "Nothing stops the Rhino!"
Then, like a freight train from hell, he charged once more—only this time, he was even faster. Injured but enraged, the ground trembled beneath him as he surged toward them, every ounce of his weight behind the charge. Another hole in the wall as everyone barely managed to dodge in time.
"Ugh! Anybody else mind givin' me a hand here?!" Victor shouted as he got batted aside in a failed pounce.
The moment the Rhino slammed through the wall again, Desmond jumped onto his back. Metal shrieked as it bent and tore, but Desmond did not hear it. With his own considerable weight, Desmond aimed to bring the Rhino back to the ground. To further convince the massive to go down, Desmond's club-like fists slammed into the side of the Rhino's head. Desmond aimed for the ears and temples.
Desmond's powerful fists crashed against the Rhino's skull with a sound like splintering concrete. Each impact sent tremors through the massive brute’s body, making him stumble. The Rhino groaned, his balance failing as Desmond’s sheer weight bore down on him like an unrelenting storm.
Finally, with one last ground-shaking slam, the Rhino's knees buckled. He crashed to the floor, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The room shook with the impact, the behemoth’s breath ragged as he struggled, furious but disoriented, to push himself back up.
Victor was on him in an instant. He leapt onto the Rhino's broad shoulders with predatory grace, his claws digging deep into thick muscle. A guttural snarl tore from his throat as he wrapped an arm around the Rhino's neck and squeezed. Hard.
The Rhino's struggles became frantic, his fingers clawing at Victor's iron grip, but the resistance lasted only seconds. A sickening crack echoed through the ruined chamber. The massive body beneath him went still. When Victor stood up, he held the Rhino's head in his hand with a blood stump of a spinal cord dangling and dripping blood onto the floor.
Connor turned just in time to witness it, his eyes widening in horror. He took a sharp breath, his hands signing before his speech device could even catch up. "VICTOR, STOP. THAT WAS UNNECESSARY."
Victor merely exhaled, a pleased, satisfied rumble deep in his chest. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, glancing at Connor with a smirk. "Nah," he rasped, stepping off the fallen giant. "That was fun."
Connor's jaw clenched, but before he could respond, the doors to the generator room finally groaned and warped under Ember’s assault. With a final push, the metal gave way, molten edges still glowing as they collapsed inward.
Alex turned to Kayleigh who was breathless but triumphant. "It's open! Way to go, Ember. Let's go!"
Connor swallowed his anger, forcing himself to focus on the mission. He turned toward the others, pushing down the revulsion at Victor's savagery.
"THE GENERATOR IS EXPOSED. WE NEED TO BLOW IT AND LEVEL THIS PLACE."
Alex, stepping in beside him, nodded. "Agreed. No time to argue. Let's give it everything we've got!"
“With pleasure.” Kennedy replied as they were all finally free to achieve their original goal. Raising her bow to the level of her eye she fired a kinetic arrow into the generator and it sparked and sputtered before the power went out. The room went black for a moment before the emergency lights turned on and half a dozen control panels in the room began to flash and alarm. Soon the whole station was blinking and chiming in an attempt to notify everyone that something was terribly wrong.
Metal groaned and screeched as Desmond tore out the metal computer terminals. Glass shattered as the wood-like fists slammed into gauge clusters, crushing the pipes they were monitoring.
TAG - feel free to smash any other items in the station if desired
As the X-Men advanced and continued to destroy Genosha’s transit system a windswept Tandy appeared. She had traveled with John and the other rebels in hopes of breaching the Flesh Factory.
“We didn’t get in!” Tandy gasped and no other rebels appeared behind her “She’s just so strong, we had to retreat. But now she’s coming this way… the alarms, Windrider knows.”
The goal of their mission suddenly changed, they would have to fall back and regroup with the now scattered rebels. Remaining in an underground station with an Omega level mutant seemed like a very hazardous situation. Even as they spoke, water began to flood and fill the space as a distant storm raged down the hall.
“Wait! You’re missing someone… the runner.” Tandy noticed as she did a headcount, she was no team leader but she knew how to keep her gang numbers accounted for.
“I’ll go find him, I know the station and the Flesh Factory better than anyone.” Alex replied as he surveyed the group. “Tandy, you remember where the safe house is?”
Tandy nodded her head in agreement, it had been the location she had been trying to get to when she was originally captured and taken to the camp outside of the city.
“Creed. You stay back and hold the line - buy us and the rest of the rebels some time to exit before she drowns us.” Alex continued with that same tone of leadership that Scott provided, the Summers brothers definitely knew how to take charge of a situation.
“Perfect.” Victor side with a fiendish smile, his bloodlust was still running high and the idea of finally taking on the weather witch was one he was eager to jump at
“X-Men, follow Tandy. We’ll regroup once we get our heads on straight. This was a set up and I want to know who sold us out.” Alex barked at the team before he disappeared down one of the now darkened halls.
Hayden followed the instructions and fell in behind Tandy. A safehouse sounded really good right about now. Maybe they'd have some med-kits with something for a headache. And a nice ice-pack...yeah, she could really use that. The thought of something to eat skittered through mind for a brief moment before exciting. Probably all they had was MRE's or something like that.
TAG ANY - Roll Out
Up in the control room, Moreau wore an arrogant smirk of pure victory as the Resistance fighters were blown away in the gale-force winds. He stood watching the chaos unfold on the wall of monitors next to Maeve with mild amusement. "She is quite remarkable, isn't she?" His voice was almost reverent. "Nature's wrath, made manifest. You mistake her for a prisoner, for a victim. But she is neither. She is proof that order is stronger than chaos."
He turned his gaze back to Maeve, his smile returning. "You will see, child. In time, you will understand. And when you do... you will thank me for my gift."
"I hope you keep a receipt." Maeve replied dryly. "Just wait until I'm out of here. You'll see and know what it feels like to be trapped. The Tuatha Dé Danann don't take kindly to their people being taken..."
Drew hadn't waited to see if his plan would work. He had moved faster than he ever had before as he ran through the building. He overshot the exit and found himself on the top floor of the building and coming to a stop before a door marked control room. He heard a voice he'd hoped to never hear again. He then heard a voice that he was glad to hear and there was no mistaking that Irish brogue.
The floor trembled beneath them, sending a shudder through the walls as dust trickled from the ceiling. Moreau's smug expression faltered, his eyes flicking toward the monitors. The generator room—his trap—was compromised. His plan was unraveling.
He exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with irritation. "Tch. What a waste." His fingers danced over the control panel, activating a forcefield that shimmered into place between himself and Maeve, cutting him off from the rest of the room.
Drew barely had time to react before Moreau turned toward an emergency lift embedded in the far wall. "I fear our time together is at an end," Moreau called to Maeve over his shoulder, his voice still smooth, but now laced with thinly veiled frustration. "You and your friends have proven most troublesome. But no matter. This, too, was accounted for."
He stepped onto the lift, fingers curling over the sleek panel as he input a command. "If mutants are so determined to dance with chaos, let them burn in it." His gaze snapped back to Maeve, the arrogance returning to his face like an unshakable mask. "Slán agat, a chailín," he said in a mocking tone. Goodbye, girl.
With that, the lift doors sealed shut, whisking him away to parts unknown. The forcefield pulsed, sealing off Moreau's escape route from Drew—but not Maeve. She before him bound in her mobile restraints.
Drew had entered the control room just as Moreau activated the energy field. He stepped up next to Maeve and gave her a brief, reassuring hug. He pulled a card he had taken off one of the Magistrates and swiped it to release the collar and wrist restraints. He picked her up and nodded. "Let's get you out of here."
As the collar fell Maeve's head spun. It was as if all the world had finally returned to her, her connection returned as Drew hugged her warmly. She felt a strength but not enough to make it out alone. The walls began to crack around her, the power that returned almost unmanageable, as if being hit by a tidal wave. Looking at Drew as he lifted her, "Thank you." She muttered weakly and wincing as the scars she bore burned much like they did when they formed. "Getting out of here is a very good idea." A large crack split the ground. "Quickly."
“Looks like I arrived just in time.” Alex said with one of his winning smiles as he approached Maeve and Drew. “I know Moreau likes to watch from all these high points like the spider that he is. I’m glad I found you so quickly.”
Turning towards one of the doors in the control room, Alex typed in a passcode and it opened for him. “Come on, the rest of the team is regrouping. I can take you to our safe house and she can get some medical attention and rest.”
Alex looked at Drew. “Think you can carry her while I take the lead and get us out of here?” He suddenly corrected himself, Alex had spent enough time around strong women to know better than to underestimate them. “Unless of course you want to walk, no offense.”
Patting Drew's chest to get his attention she nodded to him. "Put me down. Moreau can watch me leave on my own two feet and watch as I bring his building, his Flesh Factory down around him." she spoke with purpose and a strengthening will. "A ligean ar dul. (Let's go)."
Drew put Maeve down on her own two feet. He glanced at Maeve, a concerned expression on his face. He finally gave her a nod. "You got this."
The explosion came in waves. First, a deep, guttural boom that rattled the very bones of the city, then a violent crack! as fire and shrapnel spewed outward in all directions. The walls of the central station buckled, the shockwave tearing through glass, steel, and concrete like a beast unfurling from its cage.
From above, Moreau’s escape craft streaked across the night sky, banking hard as the force of the blast buffeted against its hull. He watched the destruction unfold from the viewport, his expression eerily calm. The station was lost, yes, but so long as he remained, Genosha remained. This was merely a setback—a lesson in patience.
Below, the X-Men and Resistance fighters were already scattering like embers caught in a gale.
Alex led Maeve and Drew through the crumbling corridors, every footfall met with the tremors of a collapsing foundation. The emergency tunnels they’d taken to reach the control room were barely holding together, but they had no choice. Smoke and dust choked the air, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.
"Keep moving!" Alex shouted, his voice barely cutting through the roaring din. He glanced at Maeve, watching her force herself forward despite the pain, her will alone keeping her upright. Drew kept up the pace for the both of them.
Elsewhere, Tandy, Desmond, and the remaining X-Men sprinted through a service passage, the cold bite of night air a distant promise ahead of them. Tandy pushed ahead, blindly guiding them with her Light to avoid patrols, her breath ragged as she led them in the general direction she'd been given for the safehouse.
Behind them, Victor Creed was nowhere to be seen, nor anyone else for that matter.
Windrider's storm had swallowed the main tunnel, turning it into a howling vortex of destruction. But even with hurricane winds and razor-sharp debris filling the air, Victor hadn’t backed down. Somewhere in that storm, he was fighting, holding the line, giving them the time they needed to escape.
Connor had tried to go back for him, but the wind had been too strong, the tunnel too unstable. No retreat, no surrender. Victor had made his choice, along with any other Resistance fighters in John Proudstar's group.
The city above was already waking to the explosion, sirens blaring as Magistrate forces scrambled to assess the damage.
By the time the dust settled, the X-Men were gone. The Resistance had scattered. The Flesh Factory still stood. And Moreau, safe aboard his aircraft, was already plotting his next move.
TBC...
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