piratefiction Chapter 833: Atmosphere Shift—
Chapter 833: Atmosphere Shift—
Half an hour later, in the private parking lot beside the council building...
“So...”
Sitting in the front passenger seat, Logan looked at Fang Mo in the back seat with disbelief. “You’re telling me...you really didn’t just kill Bolivar with a single punch?”
Yes, they had all gone into the council building together, but after Fang Mo kicked the door open and stormed inside, a large number of guards rushed out. Erik immediately tried to kill them, but Charles stopped him with psychic control. Then, to keep the situation from escalating, Logan had Quicksilver ferry everyone out of the building.
Because of that, none of them really knew what Fang Mo had done inside. They waited in the car the whole time. Only after Fang Mo returned and briefly filled them in did they learn that he hadn’t, in fact, snapped and killed Bolivar on the spot.
“Killing him in one punch would’ve been letting him off easy,”
Fang Mo said casually while snacking on some small berries. Hearing Logan’s question, he spread his hands. “I want him to watch as I turn this world into a total mess, while he’s helpless to do anything about it.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about Bolivar here?”
Logan shot back dryly. “...Because for some reason, I’m feeling a weird sense of solidarity.”
“Uh, Fang Mo?”
Beast (Hank) cut in, not caring about the banter. His voice was filled with concern. “Did you see Raven in there? How’s she doing?”
“Well, she almost got exposed.”
Fang Mo spoke between bites of his berries (a tasty treat from one of the many biomes he frequented). “Luckily, I stepped in just in time, teamed up with her from the inside, and we basically ran circles around those clueless politicians—like some comedic puppet show.”
“Exposed?”
Charles caught on right away. “So she was impersonating a high-ranking official from some country?”
“Probably.” Fang Mo shrugged. “Some Asian general with a little mustache. I’m not sure which country. But if you want to find her, you’d better hurry.”
“Why?”
Quicksilver couldn’t help asking.
“Because this is Paris, genius,” Fang Mo replied, rolling his eyes. “Once that meeting is over, they’ll head right back to their own country. Plus, Raven has it out for Bolivar. She might go after him again.” ʀa₦ôВĚŞ
“But you stopped him, didn’t you?”
Hank asked, puzzled.
“I stopped Bolivar’s plan and ambition, not Raven herself,” Fang Mo sighed. “She got a look at Bolivar’s human experimentation records. I doubt her thirst for revenge will be easily quelled...”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Hank was already fidgeting. “Let’s go stop her!”
“Calm down, Hank.”@@@@
Charles tried to soothe him. “If Raven really is posing as that general, she’ll be busy with handshakes and closing ceremonies right now. We’ll have to be patient.”
“Exactly,”
Logan agreed. “Once they wrap up whatever accords they’re signing, we can tail him.”
“Yeah, well, if you’re going, you’re on your own.”
Suddenly Fang Mo spoke up. “I have to make arrangements for the next phase of my plan. I don’t have time to waste on that.”
“The next phase?”
They all turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“You all have any idea how many years it took Black Americans to fight for their rights before they became the ‘meta’ of political correctness? You think it’s that easy?”
Fang Mo snapped, sounding a bit annoyed. “You don’t really believe you can just wave some dinky signs, march in the streets a few times, and then be granted equal rights for mutants, right?”
“So how exactly do you plan to make this work?”
Charles and Logan exchanged a look, both clearly concerned and uneasy.
“Relax. I’m not going to destroy the world,” Fang Mo said, waving them off. “I just plan to set this world ablaze from a different angle.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,”
Logan groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Can we please, just once, not light it on fire?”
“I’ve got this under control.”
In short, that’s the gist of it. Fang Mo didn’t bother going directly to the White House to meet the president. He left the three vials of serum with those CIA agents, opened another portal, and went on his way. All that remained was to let time do its work.
Indeed, no major waves were stirred on the day of Fang Mo’s visit. That evening, Charles and the others flew back to Xavier’s School. Their mission was a success; they brought Raven back with them. Mystique had knocked out the real general she impersonated, so Charles erased his memories, making him believe he had done whatever Raven did. That perfectly plugged the last loophole, leaving no one suspicious.
The next day, events began to shift noticeably.
At first, everyone was in high spirits about Raven’s return. Hank made a table full of food—possibly a welcome dinner. Fang Mo didn’t care much for the dishes Hank prepared; he showed up out of nowhere with a bowl of spicy-hu-la-tang soup and two pieces of flatbread.
...
“Hey, it’s been a while,”
At the dinner table, Mystique [Raven] approached him. “What’re you eating?”
“Hu-la-tang,”
Fang Mo replied, passing it over. “Want a taste?”
“...”
Raven scooped up a spoonful. After trying it, she immediately scrunched her face. “What...ugh, why’s it sour? Are you sure this stuff is edible?”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Fang Mo took back the bowl and sipped a couple more mouthfuls. “I’m from a certain province that loves sour and spicy flavors. If it were up to me, I’d imagine a world where a certain demoness was from my hometown instead of East Hundred...then I could lie in her arms while she spoon-fed me this soup, and afterward she’d ask, ‘Babe, does that hit the spot or not?’ I’d just nod deliriously like I was enthralled...”
“Dude, can you not say weird stuff while eating?”
Logan was sipping whiskey nearby and nearly spat it out. “What kind of bizarre fantasy is that?”
“The best kind,”
Fang Mo said with a shrug.
“...”
Hearing that, Raven silently scooted her chair a few inches away.
“Okay, enough nonsense,”
Fang Mo said, biting into his crispy flatbread before turning back to Raven. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“You...”
She paused, then decided to speak. “Why didn’t you kill Bolivar? I know you could have if you wanted to.”
“And why would I do that?”
Fang Mo looked at her quizzically. “By the way, want some flatbread?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Raven clearly didn’t catch the pun. “Bolivar killed a lot of our people. While you were gone all these years, many mutants died—Emma, Azazel, Pixie...tons of them. You didn’t know some of them, but they were our friends...”
“Emma? You mean her?”
Fang Mo waved his hand, conjuring a square portal. On the other side stood a blonde woman—Emma Frost—who looked surprised at the portal’s sudden appearance. “Huh? What is...?”
“Emma?!”
Raven shot up from her chair in disbelief. But in the next moment, Fang Mo snapped his fingers, and the portal vanished instantly.
“?!”
Raven was stunned, and Fang Mo’s voice reached her ears. “I’m a straightforward man: I owed her a debt, so now I paid her back with a life. Seems fair, right?”
“You...what?”
Raven was baffled. It was only 1973 in this timeline, and she had no clue Fang Mo possessed resurrection powers. She just stood there, completely dazed. “How is that pos—”
Before she could finish, a sudden knock came at the door.
“Excuse me? Is Mr. Fang Mo here?”
The knocking stopped, replaced by a very polite male voice. “I’m an aide to the President...”
“...The President would like to invite you over for a chat.”