Diplomatic Pavilion, Horizon University
The campus had never looked so polished. Flags from half a dozen nations hung over the courtyard, fluttering in the desert wind. Horizon's glass towers gleamed alongside the gothic arches of Xavier's campus, the two halves of the city stitched together like a patchwork heart.
Jake stood awkwardly in his Horizon uniform, Alloy buzzing faintly inside his satchel.
"All this pomp," Alloy muttered in his ear. "Teenagers with unstable powers rubbing elbows with foreign dignitaries. What could possibly go wrong?"
Across the pavilion, Max Modell was deep in conversation with a pair of visiting delegations — Wakanda and Zamunda. Their presence wasn't symbolic; it was strategic. Horizon had become a stage where the future of superpowered diplomacy was being tested.
One of the Wakandan students, a sharp-eyed engineering prodigy related distantly to Shuri, turned her gaze to Jake. "McGrath," she said evenly, "your… condition interests us. Our king believes the balance of power will hinge on how such energies can be stabilized."
Before Jake could stammer out a reply, the Zamundan envoy bowed slightly. "And my king has asked me to observe you. Closely."
Rogue leaned against a nearby column, arms folded. "Careful, sugah," she drawled under her breath. "Sounds like you're bein' courted."
Jake scratched the back of his neck. "Courted? More like dissected."
The crowd dispersed slowly, leaving Jake and Rogue to slip away toward the quieter science wing. By the time Jake opened his Horizon-issued tablet that night, exhaustion had nearly drowned out the day's chaos.
But waiting for him in his inbox was a single blinking message.
Unmarked. Encrypted.
Jake hesitated, then tapped it open.
Your body is an anomaly. A canvas. If you wish to understand it, seek out Essex's work. He knew long before the rest of them.
Jake's chest tightened. The words felt cold, clinical… personal.
"Alloy?" he whispered.
The ultralink hummed. "Yup, got it. Anonymous creep mail, classic. Pro tip: never trust the guy who talks about your body like it's a science fair project. Bad vibes. And hey—'Essex'? Sounds like the name of a discount perfume."
Jake shut the tablet, uneasy. "Still… someone knows about me. Too much."
Rogue glanced over, catching the tension in his shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jake lied.
But the name stuck in his head like a splinter. Essex.
Deadpool meta-cut: "And there it is, folks! The mysterious breadcrumb. Not a loaf, not even a breadstick — just a crumb on the floor. Essex. Could be a guy, could be a lab, could be a really boring county in England. Stay tuned for answers you didn't ask for!"