The group stood tense in the dimly lit tunnels, Jean using her telepathy to shield them from the patrolling guards above. They glanced back toward Kurt, who was standing at the door in front of them.

"What's taking so long?" Scott asked, his frustration growing.

Kurt shook his head, his hands hovering over the controls. "I can't get in. They have a field around it, like the one on the helicopter," he replied, his voice edged with worry.

Scott looked around, scanning the dim space for a solution. "There's gotta be some way to cut the power," he muttered, his eyes searching for anything that could help.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The group moved cautiously down the dimly lit halls, their footsteps barely audible as they hugged the walls. Every few steps, they ducked behind pillars, staying out of sight as soldiers patrolled nearby. The tension was thick, each of them aware that one misstep could mean disaster.

Scott's eyes caught something up ahead, a large service door closing. He pointed to it. "Guys, that could be our way out of here," he whispered urgently, glancing at the others.

Before they could move, Cecily froze, hearing a familiar voice in her head. "Hear me, inhabitants of this world." It was the professor.

"What is that?" Scott asked, his eyes wide, confirming that they weren't the only ones hearing it.

"This is a message," the voice continued, resonating in their minds.

Jean's face tightened in concentration. "I think it's the professor," she whispered.

"A message to every man, woman, and mutant in the world," the professor's voice echoed. Cecily pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to make sense of it.

"How is he in all our heads?" Cecily asked quietly, more to herself than to the others.

"You have lost your way," the professor continued, his tone growing more ominous. "But I have returned. The day of reckoning is here. All your buildings, all of your towers, and temples will fall. And the dawn of a new age will rise."

Cecily's heart pounded as she processed his words, a mix of dread and disbelief settling over her.

"There is nothing you can do to stop what is coming," the voice warned. "This message is for one reason alone: to tell the strongest among you, those with the greatest power, to protect those without. That's my message to the world."

"He just spoke to me," Jean said, her voice strained.

"I think he spoke to everyone," Scott replied flatly.

"I could hear him too," Kurt added, glancing nervously at the others.

"No, no," Jean said, shaking her head. "He sent me a hidden message—one only I could hear. I know where they are."

Before anyone could respond, a soldier's shout interrupted them. "Hey!"

Kurt acted fast, teleporting them out of the soldier's sight. They moved swiftly through the halls, hearts racing, until they spotted a door up ahead. They carefully approached, peering through the small window.

"The generator," Scott whispered. "It's worth a shot."

"Kurt?" Jean asked.

Kurt nodded, grasping their arms, and in an instant, they were inside the room. Cecily's eyes scanned the space as the hum of the machinery surrounded them.

Cecily's attention shifted to an enclosed box nearby, where the sound of heavy breathing echoed within. She stepped closer, feeling the weight of whatever—or whoever—was inside.

"There's some kind of animal in there," Scott whispered.

"No," Cecily corrected softly, her voice barely audible. "Not an animal. A man."

Kurt looked at her, puzzled. "Who is he?"

Cecily moved closer, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated. "He's hurt... lost a part of himself."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, his brow furrowed.

Jean stepped in, her voice low. "She means they've turned him into some kind of weapon."

Before anyone could react, the doors behind them swung open, and three soldiers stormed in, weapons raised. The group quickly ducked behind cover, their hearts pounding. Cecily and Jean exchanged a glance, wordlessly agreeing on what to do next.

Using their telekinesis, they simultaneously focused on the box, the latches snapping open under their control. As the alarm blared, the box began to creak, the door slowly sliding open.

A man emerged from the box, his eyes wild and feral. Cecily's breath hitched as she saw claws—three on each hand—unsheathe from his knuckles with a metallic snikt.

"Fire!" one of the soldiers shouted, their weapons rattling as they opened fire. But the bullets barely slowed him down. Cecily stood frozen in awe as the man lunged forward with brutal precision, cutting through the soldiers like they were nothing, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Once the man was gone, the group hesitantly stepped out from their hiding spot, the sound of the alarms now drowned out by the eerie silence that followed. They walked cautiously into the hallway, where the aftermath of the slaughter was laid out in front of them— bodies on the ground, blood smeared across the walls.

Scott glanced at the carnage, then back at Cecily. "You sure he's not an animal?" he asked, half-joking, though his voice was tinged with disbelief.

The group sprinted through the stone tunnels, the cold, rough walls echoing their hurried footsteps. Bodies were scattered across the floor, remnants of the man's earlier rampage. When they rounded the corner, there he was again—this time moving to leave.

Scott instinctively reached for his glasses. "No, don't," Cecily said quietly, placing a hand on his arm, stopping him. She turned to Jean. "This part has to be you."

Jean hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, her eyes locked on the man. His wild gaze fixed on her, and his claws remained extended, ready for more bloodshed. Jean extended her telepathy toward him, gently probing his mind. Slowly, painfully, the claws retracted back into his hands.

"Jean," Scott whispered, concerned, but she didn't stop.

Jean lifted her hands, the tension clear on her face. As her fingers approached the strange device attached to the man's head, he grabbed her wrist, causing everyone to tense. But then, his grip loosened, and he allowed her to remove the apparatus. She raised her hands to his head again, connecting with him more deeply. They stood there, locked in silent communication, for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Jean lowered her hands, and the man began ripping off the remaining machinery strapped to his body. Without a word, he took a fleeting glance at the group—his eyes lingering briefly on Cecily's blonde hair—before turning and disappearing into the snowy forest outside, leaving them in the cold, silent tunnel.

"What did you do to him?" Scott asked, still watching the door where the man had disappeared.

"I found a piece of his past," Jean said softly, "and gave it back to him. Just the few memories I could reach."

Scott frowned, glancing down the corridor. "I hope that's the last we've seen of that guy."