CHAPTER 149 — CITY OF GLASS
The scream of twisting steel drowned the night. Buildings leaned like drunks, windows liquefying into molten mirrors. Streets rippled like water, cobblestones splitting, reforming, slithering. Cars folded into origami beasts, chrome jaws snapping at nothing.
Proteus stood at the epicenter, Joseph's borrowed face half-melted, half-maddened, eyes blazing with warped light. His voice tore through the chaos, not merely sound but a distortion that cracked the air.
"YOU WILL NOT KEEP HER FROM ME!"
Logan crouched low, claws already bared, Moira pressed tight against his side. His nose stung with ozone, copper, and something rotten beneath. "City's gone funhouse," he muttered, spitting grit from his teeth. "Ain't smellin' straight. He's everywhere."
Cyclops snapped orders sharp and fast, visor gleaming red in fractured streetlight. "Storm, Banshee—crowd control! Clear civilians out of here now! Colossus, Havok, with me—we hold Proteus at bay. Nightcrawler, split yourself between rescue and reinforcement. Jean—" He faltered, looking at her. She stood pale, her eyes lit with psychic fire. "…Back us up as best you can."
Storm rose into the sky, rain whipping around her like a cloak. "People scatter like leaves," she said, her voice thunderous. "I will herd them from the storm!"
Banshee gave a sharp grin despite the tension. "Nothin' like a night stroll in the park, eh?" Then he unleashed a banshee-wail that shattered a warped wall collapsing toward fleeing civilians, buying them precious seconds to escape.
Nightcrawler bamfed into the mess of screams and rubble, snatching a child from a sinking street that tried to swallow her whole. "Do not fear, kleine!" he called, reappearing atop a warped lamppost with her clutched tight. "Your guardian angel is blue tonight!"
Meanwhile, Proteus turned his gaze on Cyclops and Havok, a smile curdling across his not-quite-human mouth. "Brothers of light. Burn each other for me." His fingers twitched, and the very air refracted like glass.
"On me!" Cyclops shouted, unleashing a precision optic blast. Havok's plasma flared beside it. Both beams bent midair, ricocheting toward each other. The brothers cursed, ducking aside as their own firepower nearly carved them down.
"Scott—watch it!" Havok barked, rolling behind a warped car that oozed metal like wax.
"I'm watching!" Cyclops shot back, sweat beading beneath his visor. "Focus—we're keeping him busy!"
Colossus charged, his steel boots pounding against ground that flexed like rubber. He swung a mighty fist—only for Proteus to make his arm stretch like putty, the punch warping wide. Colossus staggered, jaw tightening. "He… mocks our strength!"
Logan's eyes flicked around the kaleidoscope world. Too much distortion, too many traps. He shoved Moira into the shadow of a collapsed wall. "Stay low. Don't care if it's your boy wearin' that skin—if he gets near, I gut him."
Moira's eyes glistened with tears she refused to shed. "Logan… he's still Kevin. He was my baby once."
Logan gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring. "Maybe. But right now he's a rabid dog. An' rabid dogs don't get mercy."
Proteus roared, flinging his arms wide. Entire buildings leaned in, as if the city itself were collapsing toward the X-Men. Screams echoed as Storm and Banshee guided the last of the civilians to safety, their powers stretched to breaking.
Storm's voice crackled over comms, strained but resolute. "The people are clear. The city is dying, but they are safe."
"Then it's just us," Cyclops said, raising his head toward the chaos. "X-Men—prepare for the real fight."
Logan spat the cigar stub he'd been chewing into the warped dirt and rolled his shoulders, claws gleaming. "Finally."
The team closed ranks, Proteus towering before them, his body splitting and reforming like a film reel stuck between frames. He grinned wide, teeth too many, eyes too bright.
"You can save them," he hissed, voice splitting the night, "but you can't save yourselves."
The X-Men stood their ground as the city melted around them.