The fires in the small town burned low by the time the last Serpent was dragged away. Their armor and weapons lay in twisted heaps across the cobblestones, courtesy of Storm's lightning, Cyclops' optic blasts, and the unrelenting fury of Mausgrau and Delilah.
The X-Men regrouped in the square. Cyclops adjusted his visor, scanning the wreckage. "That's the second Serpent strike in Europe this month. They're spreading faster than expected."
Storm's eyes, still glowing faintly from her power, turned to Mausgrau and Delilah. "You two… you don't fight like ordinary mercenaries. Who are you?"
Mausgrau's tail flicked. "Just survivors."
Delilah smirked faintly. "And for tonight, allies. You needed help. We gave it."
Cyclops frowned, clearly not one to take strangers at face value. But after a pause, he nodded. "Then maybe you should come with us. We need to debrief, and you…" He studied Delilah, who stood tall, radiating unnatural presence. "You don't belong in this fight by accident."
---
The Blackbird
Hours later, Mausgrau and Delilah sat inside the X-Men's Blackbird jet, the engines humming beneath their feet as the craft cut through the night sky.
Mausgrau pressed her small snout to the window, whiskers twitching in awe. "I've never flown this high before."
Delilah crossed her arms, silent. Inside, the nameless man—who still controlled her body—stared at the reflection in the glass. A machine to reach the heavens… he thought. And yet all I wanted was to touch the earth as a man again.
Cyclops and Storm spoke quietly near the cockpit, but Nightcrawler plopped into the seat opposite Mausgrau, his golden eyes curious.
"You fight with shadows and teeth," he said in his lilting German accent. "Are you… mutant?"
Mausgrau hesitated, ears flattening. "Not exactly. Let's just say I'm… an accident."
Nightcrawler gave her a gentle smile, not pressing further. He of all people knew the pain of being born different.
---
Xavier's School
By dawn, the Blackbird touched down on the grounds of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
The sprawling mansion loomed, its windows glowing warm in the early light. Children were already on the lawns—some flying, some sparring, some laughing with powers sparking around them. Mausgrau's eyes widened.
"A home…" she whispered. "For people like us."
Delilah's expression darkened, her borrowed lips curling with a mix of envy and bitterness. She walked stiffly, every step reminding her she was living inside a stolen body. This was what I wanted once… peace. Family. But it was denied me.
Inside, they were led to the war room. A holographic map flickered to life, red serpent icons spreading across Europe. Beast was already analyzing intercepted Serpent chatter.
"The Black Serpents are not random marauders," Beast said gravely. "They are organized, methodical. Someone—or something—is directing them."
Delilah's sharp gaze locked onto the map. "They offered me a place. I declined."
That made Cyclops stiffen. "They recruited you?"
"They think I'm like them. Hungry for domination. But I'm not." She let her voice drop lower, more personal. "Not anymore."
Storm studied her carefully. "Then why fight them?"
Delilah's jaw clenched. "Because I just want to live. Maybe here… I can learn how."
The room was silent for a moment. Mausgrau stepped forward, tail curling protectively around Delilah's leg. "She speaks the truth. We've both seen what the Serpents do. If you want to stop them, you need us."
Cyclops crossed his arms, clearly wary, but Storm's eyes softened.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, "you need us too."
For the first time since his soul had slipped into Delilah's flesh, the nameless man felt something stir. Not the hunger for power, not the weight of destruction. Something smaller. Lighter.
Hope.