At Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Lalia Azali hides more than most. She's not just a surgeon-she's this universe's Scarlet Witch, a title whispered with fear and awe, tied to a power she never wanted and a fate she can't outrun.
Logan sees t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-Lalia
The halls of the school were bustling with students, each absorbed in their own worlds. Luca and I walked side by side, our footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors.
"So..." he started, glancing over with that mischievous spark in his eye, "you really think we can track down Magneto? Or is this one of those suicide-mission-slash-Charles-being-cryptic-again things?"
I arched a brow, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. "It's not a suicide mission."
He grinned. "Yet."
"He's unstable, not untraceable. We need to find him before someone less patient does."
"Or before he turns New York into a snow globe made of rebar," Luca muttered, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "Seriously, Lalia, the guy doesn't exactly RSVP to tea parties."
"No, but he's still important," I said, glancing at him. "You know that. Even now, he's more than just an old enemy. He's a piece of this puzzle Charles is trying to figure out."
"Yeah, a piece shaped like a landmine," Luca said. "But sure, let's go knock on his door. What could go wrong?"
I bumped him lightly with my shoulder. "If we wait around doing nothing, that's what goes wrong."
He looked at me, the smirk faltering just a little. "You know I'll follow you into any mess, right? I just like giving you grief before we almost die."
"Aw," I said, mock-sweet. "You're sentimental when you're scared."
"I'm not scared. I'm cautious," he said, lifting a finger. "Difference is, one of us doesn't keep poking the bear."
I smiled. "Says the guy who tried to hotwire Erik's helmet last time."
"That was science, and you're still not funny."
"Debatable."
We rounded the corner, the clamor of the hallway dimming. There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough for a thought to settle.
"So," Luca said casually, "you meet the new arrival yet?"
"The girl?" I nodded. "Seems fine. Quiet. Lots of potential."
"I meant the one with knives for knuckles."
I sighed. "Technically, and medically; he has claws."
Luca stopped walking, turning to face me. "Wait. You met him?"
"In a professional capacity."
He narrowed his eyes. "Define 'professional.'"
"He was half-conscious. I had a syringe. It was not exactly dinner and a movie."
His jaw dropped. "He attacked you?"
"Minor overreaction," I said quickly. "He thought he was being experimented on. Can't say I blame him."
