"Bastard Blackwood, you did a fine job. Now hurry up and drive these prison guards away!"
Wade burst toward Kurogai Blackwood, his uniform scorched and torn, looking like a man backed into a corner. Kurogai, however, knew better. With Wade's abilities, no ordinary guards could have truly cornered him. Wade was toying with them, playing the fool for his own amusement.
Kurogai sighed. He had no time for Wade's games. His eyes glowed red as he whispered, "All of you chasing guards, sleep. None of you will wake before half a day has passed."
The guards collapsed at once, snared by his illusion, their weapons clattering across the floor.
"Good. My work here is done. Wade, I'll find you again when I have news of Ajax."
Without waiting for a response, Kurogai conjured a rift, gathered the controlled death row prisoners into the spatial fold, and vanished from the prison.
Wade watched him disappear, then muttered to himself, "Fine, then it's time for me to work. Albert, where are you? The family you hurt last time asked me to bring your head back. Be a sport and lend it to me."
He strutted toward Albert's cell, humming as though everything were under control. But when he arrived, the cell door was shattered, the bars bent out of shape, and the cell itself was empty.
Wade froze, staring into the hollow space.
"Fak… Bastard Blackwood! You robbed me again? Damn it! I swear, the next time I see you, I'll make you pay!"
His roar echoed weakly down the corridor. Wade had wanted nothing more than the head of one death row inmate, yet Kurogai had stripped even that from him.
By then, Kurogai had already returned to his hidden starship base. The four hundred prisoners he harvested marched silently into reinforced containment rooms, still locked within the deep illusion he had woven. He would not make the same mistake as before—no uncontrolled riots.
"Jean, this batch is twice the size of the last one," Kurogai said, handing command over to Jean Grey as she hurried into the chamber. "They're all under illusion, so there's no chance of trouble this time. Handle them as you see fit for genetic transformation."
Jean nodded firmly. "I'll start their conversion immediately."
Satisfied, Kurogai added, "I'll be gone for a week. Keep me updated on the progress."
He turned, cloak shifting with deliberate grace, his mind already moving toward the next matter. Before his return to Earth, he had carried Odin's words back to the Ancient One. Now, he was curious to see what the Sorcerer Supreme would decide. He had plans for the Time Stone, and every action the Ancient One took was a step he intended to study carefully.
Without another word, Kurogai vanished from the base. Even as he left, he dispatched orders through magical transmission to Rogue, head of his intelligence network, to gather information on Ajax. He would not handle that search personally—not when other matters demanded his presence.
At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One sat in a great hall, watching a man in his thirties wrestle with a spell. The man concentrated, his hands weaving uncertain patterns, and the Ancient One corrected his errors with quiet patience.
Suddenly, her expression shifted. She sensed a familiar presence. Slowly she lowered her hand and looked toward the great doors. A golden aura shimmered, and from it stepped Kurogai Alexander Blackwood.
"Kurogai," she said, her voice calm yet faintly surprised. "It seems your business kept you busy."
The Ancient One knew him well. When Kurogai had last relayed Odin's reply through a portal instead of returning in person, she had guessed he was moving on separate objectives. That he had come to Kamar-Taj now meant something had reached completion.
"Master, you always read me too easily," Kurogai replied with a sly smile. But though he spoke casually, he guarded his thoughts. He doubted the Ancient One knew his true purpose, and he intended to keep it that way.
The apprentice beside her finally broke his silence, looking at Kurogai with wide-eyed curiosity. "Teacher… who is he?"
Kurogai turned his gaze to the man. The aura around him was raw, filled with potential but unrefined. He was not just any apprentice—he was chosen.
"This is your successor?" Kurogai asked.
The Ancient One inclined her head. She had already decided. Her time was running short, and with both Wanda Maximoff and Kurogai soon to walk their own paths, she needed another to carry on. For once, she would break her old rule of never training a disciple directly.
Most who had studied under her hand before had been sheltered ornaments, growing in her shadow but never reaching beyond it. Kurogai himself had never been truly taught, nor had Wanda. Both had forged themselves, and for that reason, their strength surpassed the others. Yet the Ancient One knew her own end approached, her body failing, her time with Kurogai dwindling.
She needed to leave behind a true heir. And so, she would train this man herself.