BROOKLYN – INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT – MIDDAY
The first thing anyone within a three-block radius noticed wasn't the sight of him—it was the *sound*. Not an explosion, not the whistle of something plummeting from orbit at terminal velocity, but something far more unsettling: the sharp, surgical crack of reality itself developing stress fractures it had absolutely no business developing.
The sky didn't just tear—it *ripped*, like expensive fabric caught on a nail, revealing a brief glimpse of cosmic fire that belonged in creation myths rather than municipal emergency response protocols. The air itself seemed to recoil, making room for forces that operated according to principles that made local physics look like polite suggestions.
Then he materialized.
Dragon-Born hung suspended above Brooklyn's industrial chaos with the kind of theatrical presence that would make Shakespearean actors weep with professional inadequacy. Wings of pure psychic energy unfurled with magnificent precision—vast constructs of crystallized thought that caught every photon of available sunlight and transformed it into something that belonged in religious artwork rather than urban crisis management.
His armor blazed like liquid starlight given form and purpose, midnight black scales shot through with veins of molten gold and crimson fire that pulsed in rhythm with forces that existed beyond normal understanding of appropriate relationships between consciousness and reality. Each scale caught the afternoon sun and threw it back transformed, creating patterns of light that hurt to look at directly but were impossible to ignore.
For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, he simply existed there—a living icon suspended between heaven and earth, making both seem suddenly inadequate by comparison. The sun itself appeared to bend around him, as if even stellar fusion had decided to take notes on proper dramatic presentation.
Then gravity remembered it had a job to do, and Dragon-Born descended with the kind of controlled precision that made the concept of "falling" seem quaint.
---
Jean Grey crouched behind an overturned delivery truck, her auburn hair whipping in artificial winds as she pressed both hands against her temples with the kind of focused desperation that suggested someone fighting a battle on multiple fronts simultaneously. Sweat carved tracks down her cheeks despite the October chill, and her green eyes blazed with Phoenix fire carefully held in check while her telekinesis strained against seismic distortions that twisted her psychic reach like a knife.
"Come on, come on," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice carrying that particular note of frustrated determination that Holland Roden had perfected—equal parts stubborn intelligence and barely contained power. "Every time I stabilize the substrate, he shifts the frequency. It's like trying to build a house of cards during an earthquake that keeps changing the rules of architecture."
Fifty feet above, Storm floated with the serene grace of someone who'd learned to dance with atmospheric pressure and make hurricanes beg for permission. Her white hair moved in breezes that existed independently of local weather patterns, each strand catching light like spun silver while her dark eyes—Halle Berry's eyes, sharp with intelligence and barely contained elemental fury—tracked the chaos below with strategic precision.
"Jean," she called, her voice carrying across the industrial din with that musical accent that made even tactical communications sound like poetry, "he's not just countering us—he's predicting us. Every atmospheric adjustment I make, every pressure differential I establish, he's already compensating before I complete the manipulation."
Lightning cracked overhead in patterns that followed Storm's emotional state rather than meteorological logic, while the air around her shimmered with barely contained electrical potential that made every metal surface within a hundred yards hum with sympathetic resonance.
Their opponent stood at the intersection's center like some pale prophet of geological apocalypse, his thin frame belying the raw power that flowed through every gesture. Dominikos Petros looked exactly like David Mazouz would if someone had given him the ability to reshape continental foundations through conscious will—young, intense, with dark eyes that held the kind of calculating intelligence that came from understanding complex systems and finding joy in making them dance to his personal rhythm.
"You still don't understand, do you?" he called out with the particular brand of teenage arrogance that managed to sound both intellectually superior and emotionally fragile simultaneously. His voice cracked slightly on the higher notes—sixteen years old and trying to sound like he commanded tectonic plates rather than just borrowing their power for the afternoon.
Every movement of his pale hands sent tremors rippling through Brooklyn's substrate like he was conducting an orchestra of seismic forces. Asphalt buckled in geometric patterns that would make chaos theorists require therapeutic intervention. Buildings groaned in harmonics that suggested structural engineering principles were more like gentle guidelines. Water mains burst three blocks away, creating geysers that formed rainbow arcs in the afternoon sun.
"This isn't about beating you in some comic book showdown," Dominikos continued, his youthful features twisted with the kind of ideological fervor that made concerned parents schedule appointments with school counselors. "You're fighting me on your terms—telekinesis, weather control, all that superhero nonsense that depends on stability and predictable physics."
He gestured, and a crack opened in the street that spelled out "BROTHERHOOD" in letters twenty feet long, just in case anyone had missed the point about his organizational affiliations.
"But this city?" His smile carried that particular combination of intellectual pride and emotional instability that characterized teenagers who'd discovered they could reshape reality according to their personal grievances. "Brooklyn sits on bedrock that's been here longer than your entire species. It listens to me now. Every foundation, every support beam, every assumption about solid ground—all of it bends to geological authority that transcends your pathetic attempts at psychic control."
Jean snarled with frustration, her telekinetic shields flaring as another seismic wave tried to knock her off balance. "Smug little—" she started, then caught herself. Professional superhero behavior. Right. Even when dealing with teenagers whose understanding of property damage seemed limited to "other people's problem."
Storm's eyes flashed with literal lightning as atmospheric pressure shifted in response to her emotional state. "You sound remarkably proud of endangering thousands of innocent lives, child," she observed with that particular tone of maternal disappointment that could make seasoned criminals reconsider their life choices. "Does your cause truly justify such callous disregard for civilian welfare?"
Dominikos's expression darkened, his pale features shifting into something that suggested wounded pride and defensive anger. "Better than being Xavier's obedient little mutant pets, pretending baseline humans will ever accept us as anything more than useful freaks to be tolerated when convenient and eliminated when threatening!"
The ground beneath Storm's position suddenly liquefied, forcing her to adjust altitude while maintaining atmospheric coherence—exactly the kind of multi-tasking that made precision weather control nearly impossible under optimal conditions, much less during active geological warfare.
"You want to know what I'm really proud of?" Dominikos shouted, his young voice carrying across the chaos with the kind of desperate conviction that suggested someone trying to convince himself as much as his audience. "I'm proud that we're finally doing something instead of sitting in classrooms learning about peaceful coexistence while politicians draft registration laws and build Sentinel factories!"
That's when the sky cracked open like an egg, and everything changed.
---
Dragon-Born's landing was a masterclass in controlled devastation. He touched down at the intersection's exact center—not with the earth-shattering impact that most flying individuals produced when they forgot to account for momentum conservation and architectural courtesy, but with surgical precision that made gravity itself seem negotiable rather than mandatory.
The asphalt didn't crack, buckle, or explode into expensive repair bills that would haunt municipal budgets for years. Instead, it *reorganized*—a perfect circle of compressed earth radiating outward from the point of contact like Brooklyn's infrastructure had politely decided to make room for something that operated according to principles that transcended normal relationships between mass, velocity, and basic courtesy toward public works departments.
The seismic chaos stopped.
Not gradually. Not with the kind of slow stabilization that suggested natural processes returning to equilibrium. *Immediately*, as if the geological forces Dominikos had been orchestrating with such artistic precision had suddenly encountered something that made them remember their place in the cosmic hierarchy of Things That Should Not Be Casually Manipulated by Teenagers With Attitude Problems.
Dominikos froze mid-gesture, his smugness faltering as the aura hit him like a physical force.
It wasn't energy in any conventional sense. Not visible radiation, not psychic pressure that could be detected by scientific instruments or deflected through tactical applications of enhanced mental shielding. This was something deeper, older, infinitely more fundamental—the distilled essence of someone who'd stood before cosmic entities and negotiated terms, faced down genocidal maniacs as a hobby, and emerged from experiences that would traumatize lesser beings with nothing more than improved sarcasm and a documented tendency toward property damage.
The psychological impact was immediate and comprehensive. Every survival instinct Dominikos possessed triggered simultaneously, flooding his nervous system with chemical cascades that bypassed conscious thought and went straight to the parts of his brain responsible for recognizing when something existed so far beyond his operational parameters that resistance was not just futile but cosmically irrelevant.
His knees hit pavement with the kind of mechanical precision that suggested voluntary muscle control had become a secondary concern to the more pressing issue of not dying from proximity to something that treated reality like a set of guidelines rather than immutable laws.
"Bloody—" Dominikos whispered, the words torn from him by terror so primal it predated language, "bloody hell."
Jean blinked, her telekinetic struggles forgotten as she watched their opposition collapse like a marionette whose strings had been not just cut but incinerated by forces that made puppetry seem quaint. "What—what did you just *do*?"
Dragon-Born straightened with fluid grace that suggested every movement was choreographed by someone who understood that presence was just as important as power when it came to making lasting impressions on individuals whose career choices required immediate reconsideration.
His wings folded back with deliberate theatricality that would make Broadway directors weep with professional inadequacy, while his armor continued to blaze with inner light that transformed ordinary afternoon sunlight into something that belonged in religious iconography rather than urban emergency response.
When he spoke, his voice carried harmonics that made the air itself pay attention—not because of volume or artificial amplification, but because of the fundamental certainty that these words *mattered* in ways that transcended normal conversational priorities.
"Oh, nothing particularly dramatic," he said with the kind of casual understatement that could make interdimensional warfare sound like minor scheduling inconveniences, his British accent carrying just enough aristocratic precision to remind everyone present that they were dealing with someone whose educational background included both classical literature and advanced applications of cosmic horror management. "I simply provided our young geologist with a proper introduction to the concept of appropriate power scaling."
His emerald eyes—Henry Cavill's eyes, holding depths that suggested intelligence honed by experiences most people couldn't survive with their sanity intact—fixed on Dominikos with laser precision that made the boy flinch without any additional intimidation required.
"Good afternoon," Dragon-Born continued with perfectly polite courtesy, as if conducting social introductions rather than dominating teenage terrorists through applications of cosmic-level presence. "I'm Dragon-Born, recently of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, currently enrolled at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, and professionally specialized in handling individuals who mistake seismic manipulation for genuine tactical advantage."
He tilted his head with the kind of aristocratic curiosity that suggested someone examining an interesting specimen that might prove educational if handled correctly. "And you are... dramatically over your head, I believe."
---
Dominikos tried to look away, but his gaze snapped back to Dragon-Born with the inevitability of iron filings drawn to an electromagnetic field that operated according to principles that made conventional physics look like amateur hour at the local community college.
His lips parted, words stumbling out with the kind of desperate honesty that bypassed all conscious filters and went straight to whatever parts of his brain were still functioning under the weight of cosmic-level intimidation. "I—I can't—how are you—"
"Correct on all counts," Dragon-Born interrupted with devastating politeness, his smile carrying that particular quality of British superiority that could make heads of state feel inadequate about their diplomatic credentials. "Though personally, I've always preferred complete sentences when conducting civilized conversation. They're rather more effective for communication purposes than stammering fragments that trail off into existential bewilderment."
He took a step closer—not threatening, just casual movement that somehow managed to make the space between them seem like a vast chasm that Dominikos would need several evolutionary leaps to successfully navigate.
"Though I suppose 'bloody hell' does capture the essential spirit of your current tactical situation with admirable economy of expression," Dragon-Born continued conversationally, as if discussing literature rather than psychological dominance through superior presence. "Very British, really. I approve of the linguistic influence, even if the delivery could use some work in the area of confident articulation."
Dominikos whimpered—actually *whimpered*—and the sound carried across Brooklyn's industrial landscape like a small animal discovering that apex predators existed and one of them had taken personal interest in his career choices.
Storm drifted down from her atmospheric command position with the kind of elemental grace that made weather patterns seem like extensions of her personal will, white hair shifting in breezes that carried the scent of ozone and controlled lightning. Her dark eyes—Halle Berry's eyes, sharp with intelligence and barely contained power—examined the tableau with professional assessment that carried undertones of impressed concern.
"That aura of yours," she observed with diplomatic precision, her musical accent adding harmonic depth to tactical evaluation, "it feels like standing in the eye of a hurricane that's considering whether to remain calm or demonstrate why meteorologists require extensive psychological counseling when dealing with weather phenomena that operate beyond conventional atmospheric physics."
Dragon-Born's expression brightened with the kind of pleased satisfaction that suggested someone receiving professional recognition for technical excellence in specialized fields that most people couldn't properly appreciate without advanced degrees in Applied Cosmic Horror Theory.
"How perceptive of you, Ororo," he replied with genuine warmth that somehow managed to maintain undertones of barely controlled forces that could reshape continental geography according to personal preference and tactical requirements. "It's all very carefully calibrated, I assure you. Think of it as... psychological aromatherapy with aggressive clinical applications."
His smile took on a sharper edge as he added with perfectly controlled British wit, "Therapeutic terror, if you will. Frightening in the immediate term, but ultimately beneficial for long-term behavioral modification and career planning consultation."
Jean approached with telekinetic assistance that made her movement appear effortlessly graceful, her auburn hair catching sunlight while her green eyes—Holland Roden's eyes, intelligent and determined with depths that spoke to Phoenix enhancement carefully held in check—sparkled with the kind of amusement that suggested someone discovering unexpected entertainment in what had been a thoroughly frustrating afternoon of geological warfare.
"Therapeutic?" she repeated with obvious skepticism, though her tone carried appreciation for creative approaches to conflict resolution that didn't require extensive property damage or insurance paperwork. "He looks like a rabbit that's just discovered pythons exist and one of them has developed personal interest in his continued existence."
She crouched slightly, examining Dominikos with telekinetic senses that painted comprehensive pictures of his psychological state, physiological stress responses, and immediate prospects for voluntary cooperation with reasonable requests regarding information sharing and behavioral modification.
"Complete systemic shutdown," she reported with clinical fascination. "Every fear response he possesses is active simultaneously. Fight, flight, freeze, fawn—all of them are firing at once, creating a feedback loop that's essentially locked his conscious decision-making capabilities in protective stasis."
Dragon-Born nodded with satisfaction that suggested someone whose professional competence in specialized fields had been properly recognized by qualified experts with appropriate educational credentials for psychological assessment under extreme circumstances.
"Rabbits can be rehabilitated," he observed with the kind of philosophical optimism that managed to sound both compassionate and vaguely threatening, depending on one's perspective regarding appropriate responses to systematic urban terrorism and creative infrastructure manipulation. "Provided they demonstrate sufficient intelligence to stop burrowing under other people's homes and threatening to bring down entire neighborhoods for the sake of dramatic political demonstrations and adolescent rebellion against authority figures who've never actually harmed them personally."
He stepped closer to Dominikos, movement casual but laden with implications that made the boy's survival instincts scream warnings about appropriate social distances when dealing with individuals whose presence could induce existential crisis and immediate reconsideration of fundamental assumptions about reality, power, and personal career planning.
"The key," Dragon-Born continued conversationally, "is helping them understand that there are more productive ways to express frustration with systematic oppression than causing geological emergencies that endanger thousands of innocent civilians who've never participated in mutant registration debates or Sentinel construction projects."
---
Dominikos managed a strangled protest that barely qualified as human speech, his young voice cracking with the kind of desperate defiance that characterized teenagers who'd discovered their rebellious gestures had attracted attention from forces that operated well beyond their understanding of appropriate power scaling and tactical engagement protocols.
"Y-you can't just—" he began, then stopped as Dragon-Born's emerald eyes fixed on him with laser precision that made finishing the sentence seem like a potentially hazardous undertaking.
"I can't just what?" Dragon-Born inquired with perfect politeness, crouching slightly to meet the boy at eye level while maintaining the kind of aristocratic composure that suggested someone conducting academic consultation rather than psychological warfare through strategic applications of cosmic-level intimidation. "Arrive in Brooklyn without filing proper flight plans with municipal aviation authorities? Demonstrate superior tactical capabilities while maintaining appropriate concern for civilian safety and property damage minimization?"
His tone carried that particular brand of British intellectual superiority that could make university professors feel inadequate about their doctoral dissertations while somehow managing to sound genuinely interested in the educational value of their current conversation.
"Perhaps you meant to suggest I can't neutralize systematic urban terrorism through applications of cosmically enhanced presence while maintaining perfect courtesy and appropriate respect for due process?" Dragon-Born continued with devastating reasonableness. "Because I rather think I just did exactly that, with considerably more style and significantly less collateral damage than your geological temper tantrum was producing."
He paused, tilting his head with the kind of curious expression that suggested someone examining a particularly interesting academic problem that might yield valuable insights if approached with proper intellectual rigor.
"Or possibly you were going to object that I can't read your tactical methodology like it's the Sunday crossword puzzle?" Dragon-Born added with obvious satisfaction at his own analytical capabilities. "Because my dear boy, your entire approach to seismic manipulation follows patterns that would make military strategists require extensive therapeutic intervention. Predictable frequency modulation, compensatory resonance techniques that depend on environmental stability, and emotional regulation issues that make your geological control directly proportional to your psychological state."
Dominikos's eyes widened with the kind of horrified recognition that came from discovering that professionals in specialized fields possessed analytical capabilities that extended well beyond what textbooks typically covered in introductory courses on Advanced Supervillain Methodology.
"You—you studied me?" he whispered with the kind of wounded pride that suggested someone whose self-image as a tactical genius was undergoing rapid and comprehensive revision based on educational experiences that exceeded his preparation for real-world applications of criminal enterprise.
Dragon-Born's smile could have powered several city blocks while simultaneously causing diplomatic incidents through sheer radiative charm. "Studied? My dear child, I *diagnosed* you. Complete psychological profile, tactical assessment, capability limitations, and recommended therapeutic interventions for addressing the underlying emotional issues that led to your association with organizations whose approach to social change prioritizes dramatic gestures over sustainable political methodology."
He stood with fluid grace that made the simple movement appear choreographed by someone who understood that physical presence was just as important as intellectual superiority when it came to making lasting impressions on individuals whose worldviews required immediate adjustment.
"Abandonment issues stemming from parental rejection of mutant abilities, inadequate social integration due to geographical isolation in communities that lack appropriate support systems for enhanced individuals, and academic frustration based on educational environments that couldn't accommodate your intellectual capabilities or provide appropriate outlets for your technical interests in geological engineering," Dragon-Born continued with clinical precision that would make psychiatrists weep with professional envy.
"Combined with adolescent rebellion against authority figures who never learned to distinguish between legitimate grievances and systematic criminal behavior, ideological vulnerability to recruitment by organizations that validate your sense of specialness while providing structured outlets for antisocial tendencies, and tactical overconfidence based on limited exposure to individuals whose capabilities operate beyond conventional superhero power scaling."
Jean whistled with obvious appreciation for comprehensive psychological assessment conducted under field conditions while maintaining tactical superiority over opposition forces. "That's... remarkably thorough for someone you met thirty seconds ago."
"Phoenix enhancement includes certain analytical advantages," Dragon-Born explained with modest pride in professional competence, his emerald eyes still tracking Dominikos's physiological responses while processing additional data through methods that operated beyond conventional observation and into territory requiring cosmic-level perception enhancement. "Pattern recognition, psychological profiling, tactical assessment, and comprehensive threat evaluation—all available in real-time through sensory capabilities that make standard intelligence gathering look like guesswork conducted by enthusiastic amateurs."
Storm nodded with that combination of elemental grace and strategic appreciation that characterized her approach to complex tactical situations involving individuals whose capabilities required careful management to prevent atmospheric disturbances and potential weather-related civilian casualties.
"The question now," she observed with diplomatic precision, "is whether our young geologist would prefer to provide information about Brotherhood operational planning through voluntary cooperation, or whether he requires additional educational experiences involving cosmic-level intimidation and systematic demonstration of why challenging individuals with stellar-class capabilities is generally considered poor tactical planning by anyone with survival instincts and basic pattern recognition abilities."
Her voice carried just enough electrical potential to make the air around them hum with barely contained lightning, while her dark eyes suggested someone who'd learned to balance maternal concern with tactical necessity when dealing with enhanced individuals whose choices could affect civilian safety and municipal infrastructure stability.
Dominikos looked between them with the kind of desperate calculation that characterized cornered animals evaluating escape routes while gradually recognizing that all available options involved significant personal risk and probable failure to achieve desired outcomes.
"I—" he started, then stopped as Dragon-Born raised one eyebrow with aristocratic precision that somehow managed to convey both curiosity and polite threat assessment in a single facial expression.
"Yes?" Dragon-Born prompted with encouraging courtesy, as if conducting academic discussion rather than extracting intelligence from teenage terrorists through strategic applications of psychological pressure and cosmic-level presence. "Please, continue. I find myself genuinely curious about your perspective on current tactical circumstances and potential approaches to resolving this situation through methods that prioritize everyone's continued wellbeing and appropriate respect for municipal property values."
---
Jean folded her arms across her chest with telekinetic assistance that made even casual gestures appear coordinated and purposeful, her auburn hair catching afternoon light while her expression settled into something that Holland Roden would have recognized as intelligent amusement tinged with protective concern for individuals whose circumstances had become more complicated than they'd probably anticipated when making career choices regarding adolescent rebellion and systematic urban disruption.
"He does have a point about the geological tantrum," she observed with that particular combination of academic assessment and friendly mockery that characterized her approach to educational discussions involving enhanced individuals and creative applications of supernatural capabilities for antisocial purposes. "Very dramatic, lots of visual impact, certainly made an impression on local emergency response systems and municipal engineering departments."
Her green eyes sparkled with Phoenix fire carefully held in check as she continued, "Though I have to say, the execution showed some serious gaps in strategic planning. All that seismic manipulation, and you didn't consider that someone might arrive whose capabilities operate outside normal parameters for superhero power scaling and conventional approaches to geological warfare?"
Dominikos shot her a glare that would have been significantly more effective if it hadn't been immediately undermined by the fact that he was still kneeling on Brooklyn asphalt while experiencing the kind of existential terror that made career counseling seem like an urgent priority rather than optional educational service.
"Easy for you to say," he managed with wounded pride that carried undertones of teenage frustration at being lectured by individuals whose tactical competence exceeded his own despite their obvious allegiance to institutional authority and peaceful coexistence initiatives that he'd been taught to regard as naive collaboration with systematic oppression.
"You're Phoenix," he continued with growing defiance that suggested either admirable courage or spectacular failure to properly assess his current tactical circumstances. "Omega-level telekinetic with cosmic enhancement and enough raw power to reshape continental geography if you ever stop holding back for moral reasons and civilian safety protocols."
His voice took on that particular tone of intellectual challenge that teenagers used when they'd discovered academic concepts that made them feel superior to adult authority figures who obviously hadn't considered all the implications of complex philosophical positions regarding appropriate responses to systematic discrimination and governmental overreach.
"Of course seismic manipulation looks primitive to someone who can manipulate matter at the molecular level and generate forces that operate beyond conventional physics," Dominikos added with the kind of bitter recognition that came from discovering that impressive abilities were always relative to the opposition one encountered during practical applications of criminal enterprise and systematic infrastructure disruption.
Storm's eyebrows rose with elemental grace that made even subtle facial expressions appear coordinated with atmospheric pressure changes and electromagnetic field fluctuations that suggested her emotional state was directly connected to weather patterns across several zip codes.
"Sophisticated tactical analysis," she observed with diplomatic appreciation for intellectual capabilities that transcended simple criminal motivation and suggested educational potential that could be redirected toward more constructive applications given appropriate guidance and institutional support. "You've clearly studied our operational capabilities and individual limitations with considerable attention to detail."
Her musical accent added depth to strategic assessment as she continued, "Though your research appears to have significant gaps regarding individuals whose capabilities operate outside standard X-Men tactical doctrine and conventional approaches to enhanced individual management during crisis situations involving systematic urban terrorism."
Dragon-Born straightened with aristocratic satisfaction that suggested someone whose professional competence had been properly recognized by qualified experts with appropriate credentials for evaluating tactical methodology and strategic planning under circumstances that regularly challenged conventional understanding of superhero operational protocols.
"Rather flattering, actually," he said with obvious pleasure at receiving comprehensive threat assessment from opposition forces, his British accent carrying just enough pride to make academic recognition of his capabilities seem like validation of educational achievements and cosmic enhancement rather than simple intimidation through superior presence. "It's always gratifying to discover that one's reputation has preceded one's actual arrival on the tactical scene."
He moved with fluid precision that made casual gestures appear choreographed for maximum dramatic impact while maintaining perfect courtesy and appropriate concern for the psychological wellbeing of individuals whose circumstances had become significantly more complicated than their organizational training had probably covered in standard Brotherhood recruitment and indoctrination programs.
"Though I must point out that your intelligence gathering appears to have been conducted by individuals whose understanding of cosmic enhancement and interdimensional education operates within rather limited parameters," Dragon-Born continued conversationally, as if discussing academic research methodologies rather than addressing systematic failures in enemy reconnaissance and threat assessment protocols.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he explained with the kind of casual reference that made magical education sound like standard curriculum rather than specialized training in reality manipulation and systematic preparation for warfare against genocidal maniacs with delusions of racial superiority. "Five years of intensive education in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Combat Transfiguration, and Practical Applications of Lethal Magic Under Extreme Pressure."
His emerald eyes took on depths that spoke to experiences most people couldn't survive without extensive therapeutic intervention and possibly pharmaceutical assistance for managing post-traumatic stress responses to systematic attempts at teenage mortality by individuals whose creative approaches to mass murder would make military strategists require career counseling.
"Followed by recent cosmic enhancement by entities whose names include 'Death' and 'Phoenix Force,' resulting in abilities that operate beyond normal mutant classifications and into territory requiring entirely new assessment categories for individuals whose capabilities transcend conventional understanding of appropriate power scaling and tactical engagement protocols."
The casual mention of being personally educated by anthropomorphic concepts and cosmic entities made Dominikos's psychological stress responses undergo additional deterioration as he processed information suggesting that his current tactical situation involved individuals whose background experiences operated outside any reasonable preparation for criminal enterprise or adolescent rebellion against institutional authority.
"So to summarize," Dragon-Born continued with devastating politeness, "your seismic manipulation—impressive though it undoubtedly is from a technical perspective—represents exactly the kind of specialized capability that my educational background was specifically designed to counter through comprehensive training in neutralizing individuals whose supernatural abilities pose systematic threats to civilian safety and governmental stability."
He crouched again, meeting Dominikos at eye level while maintaining the kind of aristocratic courtesy that suggested someone conducting academic consultation rather than psychological warfare through strategic applications of cosmic-level intimidation and reality-altering presence.
"The question now, my dear young geologist," Dragon-Born said with warm reasonableness that somehow managed to carry undertones of forces that could reshape local geography according to personal preference and tactical necessity, "is whether you'd prefer to discuss Brotherhood operational planning through civilized conversation over afternoon tea, or whether you require additional demonstrations of why challenging individuals with stellar-class capabilities is generally considered a strategic error of the highest magnitude by anyone with survival instincts and basic understanding of appropriate risk assessment methodologies."
---
Jean approached with telekinetic grace that made her movement appear effortless while her enhanced senses painted comprehensive pictures of psychological stress patterns, physiological responses, and immediate prospects for voluntary cooperation from individuals whose tactical circumstances had deteriorated beyond all reasonable parameters for successful criminal enterprise.
"His terror responses are actually stabilizing now," she reported with clinical fascination that carried undertones of professional appreciation for psychological techniques that achieved tactical objectives without requiring extensive medical intervention or federal incident reporting procedures. "Complete submission, but not traumatic breakdown. Whatever you're projecting, it's calibrated to ensure compliance without permanent psychological damage."
Her green eyes—Holland Roden's eyes, intelligent and determined with depths that spoke to Phoenix enhancement carefully controlled for therapeutic rather than destructive applications—examined Dominikos with the kind of comprehensive assessment that suggested someone evaluating rehabilitation potential rather than simply cataloguing enemy capabilities for future tactical planning.
"Impressive precision," Jean continued with genuine admiration for technical excellence in specialized fields that most superhero training programs didn't cover in standard curriculum regarding appropriate responses to enhanced individuals with criminal backgrounds and ideological commitments to systematic social transformation through direct action. "Most intimidation techniques produce either insufficient compliance or excessive psychological trauma requiring extensive therapeutic intervention."
Dragon-Born's expression brightened with pleased satisfaction at receiving professional recognition from qualified experts whose credentials in psychological evaluation and enhanced individual management were well-established through years of practical experience and successful tactical applications under circumstances that regularly challenged conventional understanding of appropriate superhero methodology.
"One of the more useful enhancements I received during cosmic remodeling," he explained with modest pride in technical competence, his voice carrying harmonics that suggested supernatural capabilities held in careful check for educational rather than destructive purposes. "Rather like having a weaponized Dementor for a housepet, except with better behavioral controls and significantly fewer complications regarding legal authorization for psychological manipulation of hostile individuals."
Storm's white hair shifted in breezes that carried the scent of approaching weather changes and controlled electromagnetic phenomena as she examined their tactical situation with elemental grace and strategic awareness that encompassed both immediate concerns and long-term implications for civilian safety and municipal infrastructure stability.
"The atmospheric distortions have completely settled," she observed with professional satisfaction at efficient crisis resolution, her musical accent adding harmonic depth to tactical assessment. "No residual seismic activity, no geological instability, no secondary effects that would require federal emergency management coordination or extensive insurance paperwork for property damage claims."
Her dark eyes reflected afternoon sunlight while processing implications that extended beyond simple conflict resolution into territory requiring careful consideration of individual rehabilitation potential and appropriate institutional responses to enhanced individuals whose circumstances had become complicated through association with organizations advocating systematic challenge to governmental authority and peaceful coexistence initiatives.
"Though I suspect," Storm added thoughtfully, "that local emergency response systems will require comprehensive briefing regarding the appearance of Dragon-Born and his tactical capabilities, assuming we want to avoid federal incident reports that classify today's events as potential extraterrestrial contact or cosmic-level threat assessment requiring international coordination and extensive oversight committee involvement."
Dragon-Born nodded with aristocratic appreciation for strategic thinking that encompassed both immediate tactical concerns and long-term implications for institutional relationships with government agencies whose interest in enhanced individuals often exceeded their respect for constitutional protections and civil liberties.
"Quite right," he agreed with obvious satisfaction at working with individuals whose professional competence extended beyond simple superhero methodology into comprehensive crisis management and diplomatic coordination with authorities whose motivations required careful evaluation and strategic management.
His emerald eyes blazed with inner fire that spoke to cosmic forces carefully held in check while his wings began to unfurl with magnificent precision that filled Brooklyn's industrial landscape with warm, living light that made observers instinctively understand they were witnessing something that operated beyond normal boundaries of possibility and appropriate municipal emergency response protocols.
"Jean, Storm," he continued with perfectly coordinated authority and genuine appreciation for tactical partnership, "I trust you can handle extraction procedures and coordinate with local authorities regarding our young friend's immediate future and potential educational opportunities that might prove more constructive than systematic urban terrorism and creative geological manipulation for political demonstration purposes?"
He gestured elegantly toward Dominikos, who remained kneeling in his circle of perfectly reorganized asphalt while processing career choices that might prove less likely to result in encounters with individuals whose casual presence could induce existential terror and immediate reconsideration of fundamental assumptions about power, authority, and appropriate responses to adolescent rebellion against systematic oppression.
"I believe Mr. Petros will prove remarkably cooperative regarding intelligence about Brotherhood strategic planning and organizational capabilities," Dragon-Born added with obvious confidence in his psychological assessment and tactical methodology for ensuring voluntary compliance from individuals whose circumstances had become significantly more complicated than their recruitment training had probably covered. "Particularly if approached through educational consultation rather than interrogation procedures that might complicate his potential rehabilitation and future integration into institutional environments that prioritize peaceful coexistence over systematic social transformation through direct action."
Storm's smile carried that combination of elemental grace and maternal warmth that characterized her approach to enhanced individuals whose capabilities required careful guidance rather than simple containment or punitive response to criminal behavior involving supernatural abilities and creative infrastructure manipulation.
"Of course," she agreed with musical precision, atmospheric pressure changes reflecting her emotional satisfaction at efficient crisis resolution and comprehensive tactical victory that minimized civilian casualties while maximizing intelligence gathering opportunities and potential rehabilitation outcomes. "Local authorities will appreciate having clear parameters for processing individuals whose abilities operate beyond conventional law enforcement capabilities and standard judicial procedures for handling criminal behavior involving enhanced individuals."
Jean nodded with telekinetic assistance that made even casual gestures appear coordinated and purposeful, her Phoenix enhancement carefully held in check while her strategic thinking encompassed both immediate tactical requirements and long-term implications for individual welfare and institutional relationships with government agencies whose oversight responsibilities often conflicted with educational mission and constitutional protections.
"The psychological advantage should maintain his cooperation for several hours," she observed with clinical precision, "assuming he doesn't decide to test whether Dragon-Born maintains ongoing surveillance of local Brotherhood activity through methods that extend beyond conventional monitoring and into territory requiring cosmic-level perception enhancement and systematic threat assessment capabilities."
Dragon-Born spread his wings to full magnificent extension, psychic energy catching every photon of available sunlight and transforming it into radiance that made reality itself seem to pay attention to forces that operated according to principles that transcended normal understanding of appropriate relationships between consciousness, power, and municipal crisis management.
"Excellent," he said with obvious satisfaction at comprehensive tactical coordination and professional competence that exceeded standard superhero operational protocols through superior planning, individual capability assessment, and strategic thinking that encompassed both immediate objectives and long-term implications for civilian safety and institutional relationships with federal oversight agencies.
With fluid precision that made gravity appear negotiable rather than mandatory, Dragon-Born lifted off from Brooklyn's industrial landscape with acceleration that turned him into a streak of living light moving faster than human perception could track while maintaining perfect control and appropriate concern for atmospheric disturbance that might affect local weather patterns or civilian aircraft operating under standard municipal aviation regulations.
"Two more locations requiring attention," he called back as he curved toward Manhattan airspace with velocity that defied several fundamental assumptions about appropriate relationships between mass, acceleration, and basic courtesy toward sound barriers in populated urban areas. "Try not to let our young geologist recover his confidence before backup arrives. Educational experiences involving cosmic-level intimidation tend to be more effective when reinforced through consistent institutional messaging rather than allowing individuals to rationalize their encounters as temporary psychological aberrations rather than permanent adjustments to their understanding of appropriate power hierarchies."
The sound of his passage tore through Brooklyn's industrial atmosphere with harmonics that suggested cosmic forces learning to appreciate urban aerodynamics while maintaining consideration for civilian populations and municipal noise ordinances
---
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