Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Frisk Dreemurr sat next to his adoptive brother, Asriel. The two of them were laying on a hill, and watching the clouds go by.

“You know, Frisk,” Asriel said. “I’m still amazed at how beautiful the surface is.”

Frisk smiled, and nodded. “It’s something, alright,” he said. “And I don’t have to worry about being tempted to RESET again.” After monsters had been set free, he had used that power in order to give Asriel a new soul, composed of Determination, and a piece of every soul in the Underground- 322 of them- and had lost control of the timeline in the process, but they had also prevented anyone else from gaining control. The power to RESET had been lost to all people. But Frisk was still the most Determined person to date.

“I sometimes think this is all a dream,” Asriel muttered. “That one day, I’m going to wake up in the underground, with Mom telling me that breakfast is ready. I still can hardly believe that the government was so willing to give monsters citizenship!”

Frisk extended his powers. He could tell that Asriel was practically on top of the world. He was relieved that the young boss monster was moving past his trauma, and hadn’t thought much about his time as the demonic Flowey. Perhaps Asriel's soul mostly fusing together had something to do with that.

“ya know,” a familiar voice said, “I’d really like to let ya stay out here all night, but Toriel really wouldn’t like that.”

The two pulled themselves up, and saw a familiar short and stout skeleton standing at the base of the hill.

“Oh, howdy Sans,” Asriel said. “Are you here to take us home?”

“sure am,” Sans replied. “It’s about dinner time for you two.” Ever since the power to RESET had been lost, the skeleton had become noticeably less lazy. He had even gone so far as to build an entire snow sculpture that resembled his face. Still, he was very much a slacker, taking naps whenever possible, and took the route of least work.

Frisk could feel that Sans was coming to realize that a RESET wouldn’t happen again. He was becoming more hopeful every day.

“so how was your day, kiddos?” Sans asked.

“It was great!” Asriel said. “We met with Dogamy and Dogaressa, and helped them prepare for the Nose Nuzzling Contest. Then we practiced magic with MK. Well… I practiced magic. Frisk just cheered us on. Then all three of us went over to Alphys’ place to help her with research. MK had to go home after that, and Frisk and I came here to relax.”

“huh, sounds like you two had a busy day,” Sans remarked. “makes a guy wanna take a nap.” Frisk chuckled.

A few minutes later, they had arrived at home, where the towering figure of Asgore was tending to the flowers.

“Howdy!” Asriel called.

Asgore looked up at them, and waved. “Well, howdy to you too, children! Howdy, Sans!” he greeted. “How was your day?”

Frisk and Asriel walked up to their father and gave him a hug. “It was good,” Frisk said.

“I can’t wait to tell you and Mom all about it!” Asriel exclaimed.

Ever since Frisk had revealed the RESET to everyone else, and Asriel had revealed his twisted reincarnation, the relationship between Toriel and Asgore had greatly improved. Frisk’s family and friends, with the exception of Alphys and Undyne, were living in one house. Though Toriel and Asgore weren’t sleeping together, Toriel no longer gave Asgore glares every time she saw him. In fact, they seemed to be repairing their marriage.

Then the door opened, and Toriel looked out. A tall female form, around the height of an average man, she smiled at Frisk and Asriel.

“Greetings, children,” she said. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Please come inside and wash up.”

“Okay, Mom,” Asriel said.

She looked at the tall monster. “Asgore, you should best wash as well.”

“Of course, Toriel,” Asgore said as he walked over. Toriel moved to the side to let him in.

“I’ll be inside in a minute!” Frisk called. He turned to Sans, and reached out with his powers. “Thanks for keeping this a secret,” he sent.

“no problem, kid,” Sans responded. “you gonna tell everyone else, yet?”

“I’ll tell Mom. I’m still surprised you took it so well,”

“hey, i accepted you being the anomaly. Why would telepathy be any different?”

Frisk grinned, and the two of them went inside.

After dinner, and a bath, Frisk walked into the sitting room. Toriel was resting in her chair and reading a book, glasses perched on her muzzle.

“Mom?” Frisk asked.

Toriel looked up. “Frisk?” she asked. “You are still up?”

Frisk took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Toriel set down her book and took off her glasses. “What is wrong?”

“Do you remember when I told everyone I had the power to reset time?” he asked.

“Well… of course,” Toriel said, worriedly. After Frisk had told everyone, she had been plagued by nightmares. Of ‘what if’ scenarios, of versions of Frisk with red eyes, and a cruel grin. Thankful to God that they had mostly subsided.

Frisk took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Well, that wasn’t the only big secret I was keeping from you.”

Toriel looked concerned. “Frisk… whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“It’s this,” Frisk said. And he reached out with his powers. ‘I can do this to people’s minds.’

Toriel jumped in shock. It had seemed as though Frisk’s voice had come from within her head!

‘I know this is somewhat scary,’ he continued, ‘but I promise you, I would never hurt anyone with this power.’

“Frisk!” gasped Toriel. “You are-!”

“Telepathic,” Frisk finished.

“How… long…”

“Since I was six.” Frisk bowed his head. “It was just after my birth parents died. I started hearing voices. I thought I was going crazy. It was only when I was eight that I realized I was listening to other people’s thoughts by accident. I eventually learned to control this power, and soon it was like using my arm; it wouldn’t turn on until I chose for it to.” “Oh, Frisk,” Toriel said, hugging her child. “I wish you had told me earlier! I can understand why you would keep this a secret. Don’t worry; all of us will do our best to help you through this.”

Frisk smiled, and hugged her. “Thank you, Mom,” he said.

The next day, Frisk was sitting in Alphys’ lab, covered in suction cups connected to wires.

“O-oh my gosh! This is incredible!” the lizard monster said. “All the blood samples I took show that there’s a genetic anomaly on Frisk’s DNA, which gives h-him the power to read people’s minds, a-and even control their motor functions.”

“Wait a minute!” Undyne said. “You mean to tell me that Frisk wasn’t pulling our legs? He’s got superpowers?”

“basically,” Sans said. “he told me a while back, ‘cause i’m such a good secret keeper.”

“That is so awesome!” Undyne said. “Just like a comic book.”

Papyrus, however, was less than pleased. “FRISK, WHY DID YOU NOT TELL US EARLIER?” he asked. “WE WOULD HAVE DONE OUR BEST TO HELP YOU!”

“Sorry, Papyrus,” Frisk said. “But when you overhear everyone else’s thoughts, you tend to not think clearly.”

“A-actually,” Alphys began, “you don’t overhear people’s thoughts, Frisk. My analysis of your power s-suggests that it’s more like being in a soundproof room that w-when you open the door, you hear the people talking. So you can’t accidentally read someone’s thoughts.”

“That explains a lot about you,” Asriel noted. “You know exactly what will calm people down, and you can understand how they feel.”

Frisk extended his power. ‘And that’s how you saw my memories when…’ he heard Asriel think.

“Well, one thing’s for certain,” Asgore said. “We will help you get through this, Frisk. We’re family, and family always sticks together.”

Later that night…

Frisk slowly opened his eyes, and looked across the room at Asriel. His adopted brother was still fast asleep. Which was strange, because he could have sworn he heard a noise. In fact, it sounded like it came from the kitchen. He pulled himself out of bed, and grabbed the baseball bat near the dresser. He crept to the doorway, and opened it quietly, careful not to disturb Asriel. He made his way through the halls. When he reached the kitchen door, he readied the bat. He quietly opened the door…

And lowered the bat when he saw who it was.

“Mom, what are you doing up?” he asked Toriel, who was going through the fridge, though she looked up when Frisk spoke. "You startled me.”

Toriel just smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, dear, I just had something I needed to do.”

Frisk started to nod…

Before he narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right.

Toriel looked confused. “Is there something wrong?”

Frisk just looked at a photo on the wall. It was one of his entire family decked out in formal attire. And the dress Toriel was wearing in that picture was the one she was wearing now.

Frisk turned back to the imposter. “Who are you, really?” he asked, before he extended his telepathy. ‘My mother only wears that dress when she attends formal occasions. She would never wear it any other time.’ The fake Toriel looked startled, and backed away, further confirming Frisk’s suspicions. ‘And she would never raid the fridge at night when there are starving children in Africa.’

The imposter started to change shape. Fur vanished, and the face became more human. When she stopped, standing in front of Frisk was a girl younger than him. She had scaly blue skin, red hair, and yellow eyes. Frisk stared for a moment, before a smile spread across his face, brown eyes sparkling with amazement. He felt happiness well up inside of him.

“You’re not… scared of me?” the girl asked.

“I always knew I couldn’t be the only one in the world,” Frisk answered. “The only person who was different. And here you are.” He extended his hand. “Frisk Dreemurr.”

The young girl lifted her own hand, before carefully shaking Frisk’s hand. “Raven,” she said.

Frisk’s expression turned concerned, and kind. “You’re hungry, and alone,” he said. Raven nodded. “Take whatever you want. We’ve got lots of food you don’t have to steal.” Raven’s face broke out into a grateful smile. “In fact, you never have to steal again. And that’s a promise.”

Chapter Text

But while Frisk was discovering he was not alone, one man was. A year before he went into the underground, on the other side of the world, several people were being rounded up, and marched into concentration camps. One of these people was Erik Lehnsherr, who wasn’t even a year older than Frisk.

In the pouring rain groups of people marched through the camp. As he walked next to his parents, Erik saw men dressed like slaves moving wheelbarrows with bags of dried cement, and men with numbers tattooed to their forearms. Some of the guards were shouting in a language the boy didn’t understand. Getting a closer look at the men, he saw they were gaunt, and pale, with dark circles under their eyes. Ahead of them, the guards were pushing people into two groups, rather forcefully.

As they approached the guards, Erik’s mother clung to him. But it was all for naught, and the guards separated him and his parents. Erik and his mother cried out for each other in their language, while his father looked back helplessly. Erik tried to get past the guards. They paid him no attention, but they wouldn’t let him pass, either. His mother tried to get to him, but his father held her back, knowing there was nothing either of them could do. As the gate closed, Erik tried to run to it, but the guards noticed him this time, and grabbed him, holding him back as the bar was put into place.

In his anger and grief, Erik reached out…

And accidentally caused the gate to move. Much to the guard’s shock, they were beginning to be pulled towards the breaking gate. The guards on the other side of the gate pulled Erik’s mother away. Thinking quickly, one of the guards near Erik struck the boy on the head, knocking him down, and stopping the boy’s powers. The guards who had grabbed him fell over, and got up, before they backed away from the boy in fear. They stared in astonishment at the gate. Save one. He looked curious.

He turned to the other men, and said, “Doctor Schmidt will wish to hear of this.”

Nearly a week later, the man named Doctor Schmidt ordered the guards to bring Erik to his office.

“Understand this, Erik. These men, I’m not like them,” he told Erik in Polish. He studied the frightened young boy, before he picked up a chocolate bar on his desk. “Genes are the key, yes?” He started to unwrap the bar. “But their goals? Pale skin? European descent? Pathetic.” He took a small square of the chocolate, and took a bite out of it. He set it on the bar, and pushed it towards Erik. “Eat the chocolate,” Schmidt said.

Erik was suspicious. What was this man playing at? He had seen what the men in charge of the camp did to people who tried to sneak rations.

“It’s good,” Schmidt said. “Want some?”

“I want to see my mama,” Erik said.

Schmidt just pulled the bar away. “Genes are the key that unlocks the door to a new age, Erik. A new future to mankind. Evolution. You know what I’m talking about?”

Erik shook his head. Honestly, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s a simple thing I ask of you. A little coin is nothing compared to a big gate. Is it?”

Erik looked at the coin, and concentrated. He extended his hands, trying to lift it.

“Ja,” Schmidt said.

For a few moments Erik tried, but he gave up. “I tried, Herr Doctor,” he said. “I can’t… I don’t… it’s impossible.”

Shaw leaned back in his chair, disappointed. “The one thing I can say for these Fascists is their methods seem to produce results.” He reached over and rang a bell on his desk.

The door opened, and two guards came in… with Erik’s mother in tow.

Erik went up to his mother and hugged her, and she hugged him back. But Schmidt gestured, and the guards separated them.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three,” he reached into his desk, and pulled out a gun and pointed it at Erik’s mother, “and you’re going to move the coin, or else I pull the trigger. Understand?”

Erik urgently extended his hands and attempted to move the coin.

“One,” Schmidt said.

Erik looked fearfully towards his mother. “Mama…”

“You can do it,” Erik’s mother said, reassuringly.

“Two,” Schmidt said, growing impatient.

Erik looked at his mother again.

“Everything is alright,” she said.

Erik concentrated as hard as he could, but the coin wouldn’t move.

“All is well, all is well,” Erik’s mother said.

“Three.” *crack* Erik’s mother crumpled.

For a moment, Erik was silent. The bell on Schmidt’s desk crumpled.

“Yes. Wonderful,” Schmidt said.

Erik let out a cry of grief and anger. The drawers of a filing cabinet flew open, and the cabinet crumpled.

“Excellent!” declared a triumphant Schmidt.

But Erik was far from finished. His powers began to crush the helmets of the guards, who screamed in pain as their skulls crumpled, and killed them. And in the room next to Schmidt’s office, everything metal flew about the room, and Erik turned to face it, as the room was destroyed by his powers.

Schmidt walked up to Erik, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He guided the grieving boy into the room, before slipping the coin into Erik’s hand. He patted the young man on the shoulder, and left, leaving Erik to his emotions.

15 years.

15 years since his mother died.

15 years since he had learned about his powers.

15 years of grief, anger, of learning to control his powers… and planning.

The adult Erik sat on his bed, moving the coin that Schmidt had wanted him to lift around his hand. His eyes traveled to the tattoo on his forearm. He returned his gaze to the wall, and felt that familiar rage boil in his stomach. On the wall, was a map with pictures of several people, newspapers, and places, and with several strings crossing it. This was the life’s work of Erick Lehnsherr. This was what he had spent his life doing, he contemplated in his room in Geneva, Switzerland.

His eyes went to the sketch near the top of the map. The sketch of Klaus Schmidt, the man who had murdered his mother. He stared darkly at Schmidt’s visage. He knew what he was going to do to the man. He knew the moment he had left that concentration camp. He lifted the coin in the air, and launched it to the sketch, burying it into the forehead.

Erik could have easily removed that tattoo on his arm. It was composed primarily of metal. But he hadn’t. No, Erik chose to keep it. To remind him.

Chapter Text

But Erik was not the only boy that had grown up. At Cambridge, Massachusetts, Frisk Dreemurr was finishing up his degree in genetics. His own anomaly had caused him to seek out an understanding of DNA, and Raven’s anomaly had caused him to seek out ways to find others like them. When she had come into their home, Frisk’s family had welcomed her with open arms. When Alphys had studied Raven’s genes, she had been shocked to discover that the two of them had nearly identical genetic anomalies. Alphys had dubbed this mutation the ‘X-gene’, a DNA fragment that had granted extraordinary abilities to whoever possessed it.

Raven, however, had it much worse than Frisk, as she had to maintain a human form in public, which tired her out. But Toriel had drilled it in her head that it was necessary, stating that human beings outside of Ebott City had a lot of trouble accepting monsters.

Frisk was currently studying at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, a privilege he had found partly due to being an ambassador for monster kind, but also because he had met an old and wealthy professor who had taken a shining to Frisk. The man was amazed at Frisk’s mind, and managed to put in a good word with MIT, and had gotten Frisk accepted.

Frisk’s mentor had ailing health, and no relatives of his own, so when he passed, he left Frisk his entire fortune, and his estate. Frisk had sold most of the possessions the man had left, and donated the money he had gained to charity, but kept the estate and wealth from the professor, because he wanted to provide a safe place for mutants, (when he found them) for them to learn to control their powers, and ways to blend in with society. This was part of the reason this man had given Frisk his riches, as when he had discovered Frisk’s mutation, he hadn’t been frightened, but astonished. He had agreed with his apprentice’s idea, and gave him the means to start.

Asriel, not wanting to be left behind, had studied to become a cardiac technician. He had managed to convince Frisk to help him join the nearby Bunker Hill Community College. The adoptive brothers had continued to visit each other, remaining close. They were soon joined by MK, whose family had moved to Cambridge for jobs.

Today, Frisk was not studying for his classes. He was currently in a bar, and was studying a woman that was sitting by herself.

“Heterochromia,” the young man said.

The woman looked at him in confusion. Now that she was looking at him, she realized he was quite attractive. The young man had these gentle, somewhat boyish features, what some men would refer to as a pretty boy. He looked quite good in a suit with a blue shirt, and no tie.

“What?” she asked him.

“One of your eyes is green, the other blue,” he said. “Heterochromia is a rare genetic mutation that causes eyes to be two different colors. They make you quite stunning. You’re among less than 1 percent of the population that has this combination, making you quite unique.”

“Oh,” the woman said. “Thank you. But a gentleman would offer to buy me a drink before he was so straightforward.”

The young man placed a finger to his temple. “Norman! Pint of Guinness for me, and brandy for the lady, please.”

“How did you know that?” the woman asked.

“Lucky guess.” He extended his hand. “Name’s Dreemurr, Francis Dreemurr. But most people call me Frisk.”

The woman shook his hand. “Amy.”

“A name that doesn’t quite do justice to a woman who is clearly one-of-a-kind,” Frisk said.

“First you proposition a girl, then you call her name plain. How’s that seduction technique working out for you?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Frisk answered, causing Amy to laugh.

“So what brings you to Cambridge?” she asked Frisk.

“Your observation skills are phenomenal. I’m currently attending MIT, trying to get a degree in genetics. I’m studying genetic variability, to be exact.”

“So that’s why you were so interested in my eyes?”

“Yes,” Frisk said. “Since I was a boy, I was fascinated by genetic mutations. It is these random changes in the genetic code that led single celled organisms to begin walking on land, and caused us to go from an ape-like ancestor, to the dominant life form on the planet.”

The bartender gave the two their drinks.

“Well then,” Amy said, picking up her glass. “Mutant and proud?”

Frisk picked up his own drink. “Mutant and proud,” he said, and they gently hit their glasses against each other.

A young blonde woman watched them, and she walked up to them. “Am I going to have to buy my own drink?” she asked.

Frisk glanced at her, before turning to the bartender. “Norman, I’m going to need a coke.” He looked at Amy. “Amy, this is my sister Raven. Raven this is Amy.”

“Oh, what are you studying?” Amy asked Raven.

“Waitressing,” Raven answered, dryly.

“Oh,” Amy said. She changed the subject. “Your brother was just telling me I’m like one of the first sea creatures that grew legs.”

“Tiny bit sexier,” Frisk said. Amy laughed.

Then one of Raven’s eyes turned golden.

“Look,” Amy said, “you have heterochromia too.”

“Say what?” Frisk asked.

“Well, look at her eye,” Amy replied.

Frisk glanced at Raven, and saw what she had done.

Raven gave him an annoyed look. Frisk got the message. He cleared his throat. “Right. Raven, get your coat, please. He set his payment onto the bar, and the siblings left.

“Don’t talk to me,” Frisk said. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did not!” Raven protested.

“Yes you did,” Frisk retorted.

“Why would I do it on purpose? You know I can’t control it sometimes when I’m stressed or tired.”

“You seem to be doing a perfectly good job right now.”

“I wasn’t about to let you lead another girl along,” Raven said. “Besides; ‘Mutant and proud’.”

“What?” Frisk asked.

“Or is it only with pretty mutations, or invisible ones like yours? But if you’re a freak, better hide.”

“Raven, that’s not what it’s about, and you know it. The world isn’t ready to accept people like us. Monsters have only recently begun to be able move out of Ebott City without fear of being attacked on every street corner. I think your true form is beautiful, but most wouldn’t be able to see past your blue skin. Anonymity is an X-gene bearing individual’s first defense.” He sighed. “A small slip up is one thing. A larger one doesn’t bear thinking about.”

As much as she wanted to argue, Raven had no response to that.

Back in Geneva, Erik was sitting before a bank manager, a gold bar, with the logo of the government that imprisoned him and his family in the concentration camp, between them.

“Possession of that gold is illegal,” the manager said in French. “I should inform the police.”

“Let’s not play this game,” Erik replied.

“Where did you get it?”

“A friend. He recommended your bank most highly.” Erik decided not to mention he had tortured the information out of this so-called ‘friend’.

“I see,” the manager said. “Do you know our terms, sir?”

“Yes,” Erik said. He picked up a picture, and studied it. “And you should know mine.” He gave a falsely polite smile, and put the picture back. “This gold is what remains of my people. Melted from their possessions. Torn from their teeth.” His voice gained an edge. “This is blood money. And you’re going to help me find the bastards responsible for it.”

The manager reached for the alarm, but Erik used his power to grab the man’s watch. He tsked, waving his finger, before knocking the arm onto the man’s face. “Don’t touch that alarm.” Erik stood, and made his way around the desk. “I want Schmidt. Klaus Schmidt.” He pushed the man’s chest. “Where is he?”

“Our clients don’t provide addresses.” The manager said, nervously. “We’re not…”

“Not that sort of bank?” Erik demanded, pinning the man by the chest. He reached out with his powers, and found what he was looking for.

The manager was shocked to feel his jaw forced open.

“Metal fillings, eh?” Erik asked. “Not gold? Worried someone might steal them?”

Cracking noises came from the manager’s jaw. “Argentina! Schmidt is in Argentina!” the man gasped through the pain. Erik pulled harder. “Villa Gesell! Please!”

Erik continued pulling, studying the man, before deciding he was telling the truth, and only pulled out a cap. Erik studied it while the manager gripped his jaw. “Thank you,” Erik told him, before the young man went back around the desk. “I would love to kill you.” He grabbed the gold bar and his briefcase, and made his way to the door. “So mark my words, if you warn anyone I’m coming…” He paused at the door. “I will find you.” He left the office of the frightened manager.

Raven studied her true form in the mirror, before going into the room where Frisk was. Asriel and MK had joined him.

“Frisk, would you date someone like me?” she asked.

MK and Asriel looked up. Both young monsters had become adults, taller than Frisk. Asriel had gained blonde fur around his cheeks and chin, and MK had gotten rougher scales.

“Oh, hey Raven,” Asriel said. “But where did that question come from?”

Raven looked annoyed. “Frisk was trying to hook up with a girl that had heterochromia.”

Asriel looked at Frisk, who merely shrugged.

MK just sighed. “Really, man? Again?”

“How could I have ignored such beauty?” Frisk questioned.

Asriel’s green eyes looked exasperated. “Frisk, you can’t just flirt with every pretty girl you meet. I know you had a tendency to try and charm everyone when we were younger, but I thought you’d grown out of it.”

“Yeah,” MK muttered. “I thought you wanted to use your powers to make the world a better place, not try and seduce women.”

“It’s not as if I was attempting to get laid,” Frisk responded. “I would never take advantage of an unsuspecting woman like that.”

Raven sighed. “I know you wouldn’t,” she said.

“And to answer your question, Raven, yes, I would date someone who looks like you, blue skin and all. But other people might not accept you for who you really are.” He stood up, walked over to Raven, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hide, but I don’t want you getting hurt. There will come a day when everyone will accept you, and we won’t have to be afraid.”

Raven was silent for a moment, before nodding, and hugging Frisk.

“Now, I’m really sorry,” he said. “But I have to write a paper for next week.” He gently pulled away, and went to his study. Opening his laptop, he read part of his thesis.

‘The Neanderthal man (scientific name, Homo Sapiens Neanderthalensis) is a species, or perhaps subspecies, of humans that is believed to have lived from 130,000 to 40,000 years ago, though fossils resembling them were found dating as far back as 430,000 years. Though older scientists believed the Neanderthal man was hunted to extinction by the Cro-Magnons, (Homo Sapiens Sapiens) the first anatomically modern humans, more recent evidence suggests that these two types of Homo lived in relative harmony. Many suggest that these two human species interbreeding caused the Neanderthal to fade. This is supported by the fact that most modern humans have some Neanderthal DNA within their genes. So in a way, the Neanderthal still lives on today.'

Chapter Text

In Washington D.C., the Pentagon.

“Captain, are you sure this information is correct?” one of the generals gathered in the meeting room asked.

“I’m certain,” Captain Joseph Baltic responded. “The Chinese military is planning on moving several nuclear missiles ready to be launched into the Pacific, with the United States in range.”

A murmur went through the room.

“That doesn’t make sense!” one of them said. “I’ve spoken with ambassadors. The only country in the world with nuclear capabilities that’s conceivably crazy enough to use a nuke is North Korea!”

“If anyone had done a small amount of research, they would know that China has a no-first-use policy!”

“But how do we know that they’ll honor that policy?” Baltic asked. “We all know that China is a dictatorship. And they’re ambitious. Who knows how long it is until they decide we’re in the way of their goals, and try to take us out?”

The other people in the room exchanged looks.

“I think you’ve got a point,” the first general conceded. “All right. We’ll send a reconnaissance vessel to scout out the area, and see if this informant of yours is correct. We’ll also warn NATO, see if we can get some help if it is true, and have them keep an eye on Russia; though their relationship with China has been somewhat rocky in recent years, they still have a stable military alliance. We’d best be prepared.”

Baltic nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome, Captain. Dismissed.” Baltic nodded again, and walked out the room.

Now alone, the group turned to each other.

“How should we approach this situation?”

“We send a few scout ships with minimum weapons to the area Captain Baltic described, and arm a few of our soldiers with only the standard rifle and pistol. We don’t want to provoke the Chinese Military if this information is wrong.”

“We’ll get it done immediately.”

At one of the entrances to the Pentagon, a pair of guards were waiting, bored.

“So, how long has it been since we started our shift?” one of them asked.

“Oh, about half an hour,” the other responded.

“Great,” the first muttered. “An hour and a half more of standing around. Nothing ever happens during this time.”

“I’ll say,” the second said. He paused. “Hey, did you see Colonel Hendry around here?”

“The NATO guy? Yeah, I saw him. He helped the U.S. smooth out that trade war with China. Too bad we can’t do something similar with North Korea, huh?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I heard that he was working out negotiations with a businessman to sell the Palmyra Atoll.”

“The what?”

“A U.S. territory in the Pacific. Some guy called Shaw managed to buy it from the government for private use.”

“Ugh. Rich people. Always trying to buy something they don’t need. Enough of this talk. Have you ever heard of Moira MacTaggert?”

“The agent? Complete stunner.”

“I’m not talking about her looks. She’s one of the few people in the world that believe in the existence of mutants.”

“Those rumored superpowered beings?” the second guard asked. “Thanks for telling me about that. Now I know to avoid that conspiracy theorist.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve heard she managed to hire a few guys that built a machine that detects mutants.”

“Don’t tell me you believe this stuff. Monsters were one thing, but mutants?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying what I heard. Don’t shoot the messenger. Sheesh.”

“Seriously, though, wouldn’t we have heard something about this before? The government couldn’t even pull off a simple robbery.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t even think the higher ups are aware of MacTaggert doing this project. Hey, out of curiosity, how would you treat a mutant if you met one?”

“Well, that depends on what they were…” he trailed off as he saw two people walking toward them. A brown haired man dressed in a business suit, and a beautiful blonde woman in a white bodysuit that revealed cleavage, were walking up to them. They readied their guns.

The brown haired man smiled. “Now, gentlemen, there’s no need for that. Just let us in, and we’ll be out of your way.”

“Sir, unless you have the correct ID, you aren’t allowed in here,” the first guard said.

“Oh really now?” The man in the suit smiled. A smile that sent chills down the spines of the guards. “We can easily remedy that.” Lifting his hands, a red glow surrounded each.

The guards were shocked. “What the-” the second said.

Sebastian Shaw smirked at their expressions, before firing. The guards were too stunned to react as the energy hit them, killing them instantly. Not only that, it disintegrated them.

“You could have easily let me handle them,” the woman, named Emma Frost, said.

“I know, Emma, but it’s best you save your energy for the man we need.” With that, the two walked past the ashes of the guards, and into the building.

Captain Baltic walked nervously down the hall. He had managed to get the men in the Pentagon meeting room to agree to investigate this. Hopefully, that was enough.

“May I presume that you succeeded?” a voice questioned.

Baltic shuddered, and turned around. Behind him were standing Sebastian Shaw, and Emma Frost. The two people he feared the most right now.

“Yes, Shaw,” he managed to say. “They agreed to send recon vessels to the area.”

“Good,” Shaw responded. “Now, you will take us to the man who will lead one of the ships.”

“After that, will you leave my family alone?”

“After this plan is completed, your family living won’t make a difference. Of course, we’ll have to kill you.” Shaw sounded like he would relish doing so. “And anyone who you told about this. Did you tell your family?”

Baltic shook his head. “Of course not.”

Frost reached out with her telepathy, and nodded. “Good. Now, who will lead one of the ships?”

Baltic gritted his teeth. “Captain Nathaniel Jones.”

“Where is the good captain now?” Shaw asked.

Baltic turned and strode down a hallway. Shaw and Frost followed. After several minutes, an older man came into view.

Baltic cleared his throat. “Captain Jones?”

Jones looked up, and straightened. “May I help you…” he began, before he saw the two behind.

“Captain, please we just need a moment of your time,” Baltic said.

“Why did you bring these two here, Baltic? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Now, Captain,” Shaw smiled. “There’s no need to be so frightened. We just want to ask for your help.” The sinister look in his eyes told Jones that he had malicious intentions.

Jones drew his gun. “Back off.”

“No,” Shaw responded, his smile vanishing. “You are going to give us assistance, whether you like it or not.”

“Back your ass off,” Jones repeated. “After this, Baltic, you are going to be under investigation for treason.”

Then Frost lunged forward. Jones tried to fire…

Only for his gun to heat up, causing him to miss. Baltic quickly grabbed Jones and pinned him against the wall. Frost placed a hand on Jones’ forehead, and used her telepathy, causing him to freeze. Baltic let him go.

“Now, Captain,” Shaw said. “You are going into the Pacific to intercept a Chinese vessel. They are going to move nuclear warheads into international waters. You will bring heavy weapons with you. Although your higher ups have ordered you to do so, you are not going to tell them of your actions. You are going to forget you saw us at all. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jones said, in a monotone voice.

“Good,” Shaw responded. “Now go and prepare.” Jones stiffly walked away.

Baltic glared at Shaw. “There. I’ve held up my end of the bargain, Shaw. Now do your worst.”

Shaw smirked. “As tempting as that is, we can’t risk having you being discovered.” Baltic closed his eyes, and Shaw let the energy come from his hands, reducing Joseph Baltic to ash.

“Are we going to make sure his family doesn’t talk?” Frost asked.

“With how excellently our plan is going, it won’t matter whether they live or die. Now, let us make sure China is aware of America’s imperialism.”

Frost nodded, and closed her eyes. “Azazel? Please teleport us to your location.” With a puff of sulfur, a figure wearing black appeared. At a glance, he would have looked relatively normal, with his black hair and goatee, and blue eyes. But one would quickly realize that was not the case. His skin was a shade of red. Not the red you get from blood rushing to your face, but a red befitting a demon. There was a scar running parallel to the left side of his face. Topping off the demon resemblance was a tail with a triangle at the end.

“You summoned me, Mr. Shaw?” he questioned.

“Indeed,” Shaw responded. “We have convinced the Americans to send reconnaissance vessels into the area. The mole has been planted. Now all that is needed is to convince the Chinese to send their own vessels.”

Azazel nodded, and a cloud of sulfur enveloped the three of them. By the time anyone had come into the hallway, they were long gone.

Villa Gesell, Argentina

Erik, wearing a fedora and sunglasses, coat draped over his shoulder, was walking on a path that led into the more rural area outside of the city. It was taking him past the plains outside of the city, and towards a bar.

Inside the building, two of the owners were playing checkers.

“Good afternoon,” one greeted in Spanish.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen” Erik responded, hanging up his coat and hat, and placing his glasses in a pocket. “Hot out there.” He sat down at the bar. “Beer, please.” The man tending the bar nodded, and went to grab a glass. Erik tapped his fingers, and looked around, noticing a picture of two of the men on a boat. What caught his attention was the man between them.

He was a dead ringer for Klaus Schmidt.

Erik forced himself to look away, turning his attention to the bar.

The bartender set the full glass in front of Erik. He straightened up. “German beer,” Erik noted.

“Of course,” the bartender responded. Erik took a drink.

“Ja, it’s Bitburger,” one of the owners said. “You like?”

Erik lowered the glass. “The best,” he responded. He turned to face the men at the table. “What brings you to Argentina?”

“Oh, the climate,” the man to the left responded. “I’m a pig farmer.” He laughed, as though there was a joke Erik wouldn’t understand. But he did, as he smiled, and nodded.

“Tailor,” said the other. “Since I was a boy. My father made the finest suits in Düsseldorf.”

Erik feigned surprise. “My parents were from Düsseldorf.” He picked up his drink, and walked over.

“Really?” the man on the far end of the table asked. “What was their name?”

“They didn’t have a name,” Erik said as he sat down. The men at the table exchanged a look. “It was taken away from them.” He knocked his glass against the man to his left. “By pig farmers.” He reached his glass across the table, and the man across from him knocked glasses with him. “And tailors.” They all brought their glasses up, and drank, glances being exchanged. When they finished and set their glasses down, Erik simply turned his forearm, and showed the numbers tattooed on the inside.

The man on Erik’s right grabbed his knife. The man on the far end stared at Erik in shock, as Erik glared at him.

Quickly, the man on the right drew his knife, but Erik was faster. Slamming the man’s arm on the table, he snatched the knife, and examined the engraving.

“Blood and honor,” he muttered. “Which would you care to shed first?”

“We were under orders…”

“Blood then.” Erik drove the knife into the man’s hand, causing him to scream in pain.

The bartender pointed a pistol at Erik. “Freeze, asshole,” he ordered.

“Come on, shoot!” the man at the far end of the table said.

But the bartender couldn’t, because Erik was using his powers to move the gun to aim at the man at the far end of the table. He looked between Erik and the gun as though realizing the survivor was doing this, but not sure why. This confusion ended the moment Erik pulled the trigger. The man crumpled, before Erik pulled the knife out, and used his powers to launch it into the bartender. He pulled it back with his powers, and slammed it into the remaining man’s hand. Without a beat, he pushed his bangs back into place, and finished his drink.

“Who… What are you?”

Erik set the glass down, and gave the man an intense stare. “Let’s just say I’m Frankenstein’s monster,” was his response in English. He stood up, and walked over to the photo, and glared at Schmidt’s visage. “And I’m looking for my creator.” Extending his powers once again, he pulled the gun into his hand, and shot the man.