Kael POV
The salty ocean wind ruffled my hair as I watched the coastline approach through the X-Jet's window. Krakoa. The living island. Even from a distance, I could feel its unique presence—a vast, ancient consciousness that seemed to whisper at the edges of my own perception. And scattered across its lush landscape, like jewels on an emerald cloak, were the first constructions of the new mutant nation.
Logan, at the controls, grunted approvingly. "Looks like the builders haven't wasted any time."
He was right. Organic structures, which seemed to grow naturally from the island itself, already dotted the coastline. Observation towers twisted like ancient branches, dwellings merging with the hills, and roads of luminous stone snaked through the vegetation. Everything seemed both primal and advanced, as if technology and nature had finally found a point of balance.
As the jet landed smoothly in a clearing serving as an improvised runway, I was already preparing. My mind split between two power sources, accessing both the Master Builder's Base and the Clan Capital.
"Let's begin the surveillance," I murmured to myself.
From the Master Builder's Base, the Stealth Archers began to appear in individual units—each one emerging from the shadow of a tree or from behind a rock, their purple cloaks immediately enveloping them in a mantle of semi-invisibility. They moved with silent grace, nodding slightly in my direction before disappearing into the dense vegetation.
Next, from the Clan Capital, I summoned the squads. Here, the same Stealth Archers—with their characteristic purple cloaks over green dresses—appeared in groups of five, forming cohesive units that positioned themselves strategically. While the individual units from the Master Builder's Base spread out for general surveillance, the Clan Capital squads took up specific defensive positions along the perimeter.
I repeated the process methodically as I walked towards the center of the island. Every few meters, more archers materialized—some climbing trees for vantage points, others positioning themselves in strategic clearings, all moving with the deadly precision that characterized them.
Meanwhile, Krakoa's embryonic cities were preparing for the historic meeting. Mutants of all origins moved with renewed purpose. Some cast curious glances at me and my ever-multiplying troops, but most were busy with final preparations.
Arriving at the meeting place—a large circular clearing with seats that seemed to have grown naturally from the ground—I finally stopped my summoning. Hundreds of my archers now guarded Krakoa, forming a surveillance network that few could penetrate undetected.
It was then that Charles approached, his gait still carrying the wonderful novelty of being able to walk.
"Kael," he greeted, his gaze serious. "Your display of force is impressive, as always."
"It is necessary, Charles," I replied, keeping my voice neutral. "A nation's security begins with its ability to defend itself."
He sighed, running a hand over his face. "About the council's composition..."
"I've maintained my opinion," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I believe some of the chosen members represent... significant risks."
"And I've heard your opinion," Charles responded, his voice taking on a firm tone. "But this is a nation, Kael, and nations need governments that represent all facets of their people. Even the most... complex ones."
"Some complexities could cost us dearly," I observed, recalling the heated discussions we'd had in recent weeks.
"And others might be exactly what we need to survive," he countered softly. "Unity requires compromise, Kael. From all of us."
I knew he was right, even if reluctantly. In the end, I was alone in my most vehement opposition.
"Come," Charles said more gently. "It's time for you to properly meet the entire council."
He led me to the meeting area, where the different factions were already grouping. The council was divided into four parts, each representing a season of the year.
Autumn - the three founding leaders. I already knew Charles Xavier and Magneto well, but seeing Apocalypse seated among them as an equal required a conscious effort to keep my expression neutral. The ancient mutant, with his gray skin and striking features, studied me with calculated interest.
"Engineer," Magneto greeted with a formal nod. "Your presence strengthens our new nation."
Apocalypse inclined his head slightly. "Your armies are adequate for the challenges we will face. The mutant nation needs such protection."
"Krakoa deserves nothing less," I replied diplomatically, though every fiber of my being rebelled against praise from that source.
Winter - the faction I considered most problematic. Mister Sinister sat with a posture that exuded intellectual confidence, his fingers interlaced as he observed his surroundings with an analytical gaze that betrayed no hint of his true intentions. Exodus stood erect, his psionic aura creating a charged atmosphere around him, while Mystique watched the interactions with an interest that seemed more academic than personal.
"Mister Sinister," I greeted with a minimal nod.
"Engineer," he returned, his voice soft yet laden with meaning. "It seems our complementary skills will be tested in this new enterprise."
"All our capabilities will certainly be needed," I agreed, maintaining a professional tone.
Spring - here was an interesting surprise. Emma Frost sat with her impeccable posture, her analytical eyes assessing every interaction. Shaw seemed visibly pleased with his position, while Kitty Pryde—now the Red Queen—tried to balance her optimistic nature with the responsibilities of her office.
"Kael!" Kitty greeted, though I saw tension in her eyes. "Looks like we've moved up in the world, haven't we?"
"We've certainly changed addresses," I agreed, allowing a slight smile. "And with that, new responsibilities."
Summer - the faction I felt most comfortable with. Jean Grey and Storm were exchanging serious words, while Nightcrawler observed everything with his characteristic calm.
"It's good to see that not everyone here views us as pieces on a chessboard," I commented to them.
Ororo smiled, but it was Jean who replied. "We need all perspectives, Kael. Even those that make us uncomfortable."
Finally, Charles introduced the remaining members. The Island of Krakoa itself was represented by an area where the vegetation seemed particularly vibrant, and Cypher would stand by to serve as the voice of the island's consciousness.
"And you, Kael," Charles announced to the entire council. "Will be our Chief of Security, with authority over all military and police forces of Krakoa."
The looks I received ranged from sincere approval to calculated assessment.
"It was decided unanimously," Magneto added, "that your troops represent the most efficient option for our defense."
I understood the logic, of course. My troops were disciplined, powerful, and most importantly, impartial. But a part of me resented how they were seen as disposable tools.
As I took my seat, Charles began the meeting. "Mutant brothers and sisters, we are here today to establish the fundamental laws of Krakoa. Let us begin with the most basic principle: 'Thou shalt not kill humans'."
Mister Sinister was the first to speak, his voice soft yet penetrating. "An interesting proposal, Xavier, but we must consider the practical implications. How will we define 'killing' in contexts of legitimate defense? And what about the protection of our national interests?"
His methodical and analytical approach was, I had to admit, impressive in its precision. He did not oppose for the sake of opposition, but rather sought clarity and completeness.
"I propose an amendment," Magneto spoke, his voice echoing through the clearing. "'Thou shalt not kill humans, except in legitimate defense of the mutant nation'."
The discussion heated up, but it was Sinister who raised the most pertinent point. "We need to define not only the 'when', but the 'how'. Engagement protocols, force escalation, and accountability mechanisms. Without these, we will have anarchy."
Emma Frost supported this with an elegant nod. "Finally, someone speaking with practical sense."
As they debated, I observed Sinister with cautious respect. His sharp mind discerned nuances that others missed, and his interventions, though often challenging, were always constructive. He argued for systems and processes, not for chaos or destruction.
When the discussion turned to the rights of research and genetic experimentation, Sinister showed his true expertise. "Krakoa represents a unique opportunity for the advancement of the mutant species. We need clear guidelines that allow scientific progress while protecting our citizens."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Some of your... past research makes us cautious, Nathaniel."
"Understandable," he conceded graciously. "But it is precisely these experiences that qualify me to help create adequate safeguards. I know the dangers because I have faced them."
Storm intervened, her voice like distant thunder. "We need clear ethical boundaries. No experimentation without consent, no genetic modification without oversight."
"I fully agree," Sinister replied, to the surprise of many. "I propose a scientific ethics committee, with representation from all seasons of the council."
I was impressed by his political skill. He did not confront directly, but rather redirected and reframed, always seeking consensus while advancing his agenda.
When the meeting was suspended for a break, Charles approached me, his face thoughtful.
"You see," he whispered, "even Sinister is engaging constructively."
"Or he's simply being more subtle in his manipulations," I replied equally quietly. "But I agree his contributions have been... useful."
As the council members dispersed, I observed Sinister in conversation with Apocalypse. The two seemed to share a mutual understanding, a long-term perspective that transcended the immediate concerns of the other members.
"Engineer," Sinister addressed me when our eyes met. "Your perspective on the security of our research facilities would be valuable."
"I will be available to discuss security protocols," I responded, maintaining my professional demeanor.
As we prepared for the next session, one thing became clear: Mister Sinister would be one of the most dangerous players in this new government—not because of open opposition, but because of his ability to shape the system from within. And unexpectedly, this could be both a blessing and a curse for Krakoa.
Epilogue: Silent Vigil
Kael POV
The twilight light bathed my village in golden and orange hues, but my eyes were fixed on the structures under construction. The Town Hall, now at level 7, pulsed with growing energy, every stone and beam preparing for the next evolution. I could feel the promise of power contained within those unfinished walls—level 8 would bring capabilities I couldn't even fully comprehend.
My hands clenched involuntarily as I watched the builders work. The need to constantly strengthen myself had never been more pressing. With allies like Sinister and Apocalypse on the council, the line between friendship and enmity was as thin as silk. The element of surprise would be my greatest weapon, and fortunately, my ability provided me with unique advantages.
The power leap I experienced with the introduction of Dark Elixir still echoed in every fiber of my being. It was as if I had lived my entire life hearing a symphony poorly and, suddenly, could hear every note with crystal clarity. My strength, my speed, my endurance—everything had been multiplied exponentially.
But it was the subtle improvements that truly surprised me. The ease with which I now summoned the evolved troops from the arena was remarkable. The Elixir cost remained the same, but the mental effort required had decreased significantly. And then there was the most crucial discovery: the Elixir regeneration time had decreased by a few tenths of a second.
To anyone else, it would be an imperceptible difference. To me, with my hyper-enhanced senses, it was a revolution. In a prolonged battle, those accumulated tenths of a second could mean the difference between summoning an evolved P.E.K.K.A. in time or watching an ally fall. If I could reduce that time even further...
My attention turned to one of the Stealth Archers I had assigned to a special mission. Through our shared eyes, I saw what she saw: Mister Sinister walking alone through Krakoa's bioluminescent gardens, his steps measured and calculated. He stopped near one of the residence trees, his red eyes scanning the surroundings with an intensity that almost seemed capable of detecting my archer, despite her total invisibility.
His gaze swept past the archer's position, and for a moment, he paused, a faint, unsettling smile touching his lips. He couldn't see her, couldn't sense her—but he knew. The paranoia of a centuries-old manipulator told him he was being watched. "Vigilance is an art, isn't it?" he murmured to himself, the words barely audible, a quiet acknowledgment of the game being played.
I didn't respond, of course, but watched as he continued his solitary stroll. Exodus appeared in the distance, and immediately his posture stiffened upon spotting Sinister. The hatred between the two was palpable even through the shared vision. Exodus deliberately veered off the path, avoiding any proximity to the geneticist.
The scene confirmed that I would take my role seriously. Some alliances on the council were too fragile, and enmities like that could be exploited or, worse, resolved in ways that would harm Krakoa.
When I fully returned my consciousness to the real world, I found myself in bed, with Ororo sleeping peacefully beside me. The transition between my dimension and the real world had become so smooth that not even her sleep was disturbed. Her face, illuminated by the silvery moonlight filtering through the window, seemed free of the worries weighing on my shoulders.
Tomorrow, the first mutants would arrive as full-fledged citizens of Krakoa. Men, women, and children who would finally have a place to call home, free from the constant fear of persecution. I would ensure their safety. No matter the cost.
It was then that Ororo stirred, her eyes slowly opening. "You were there again," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
"I needed to check on a few things," I replied softly, my hand finding hers under the sheets.
She turned to face me, her expression serious in the moonlight. "We need to talk, Kael."
"Are you worried about the new council members?" I asked, assuming it would be about Sinister or perhaps Apocalypse.
She shook her head, her fingers tightening around mine. "It's about Anna Marie."
The statement caught me completely by surprise. Of all the topics I imagined she would bring up on this quiet night, Rogue was not among them. My body grew slightly tense, instinctively preparing for a conversation that would apparently be far more complex than I had anticipated.
The epilogue of the night had not yet been written, and something told me that what would come next would change everything once again.