Sebastian Shaw was, without question, one of the most dangerous mutants ever recorded. Even as a clone, he stood far above the rest.
His ability to absorb energy was obscene in scope. Explosives, missiles, even nuclear output. Blunt force, bladed strikes, magic, raw energy. If it carried force, he could take it in and send it back out as devastation.
That power, however, had a flaw.
Psychic abilities.
It was the reason Shaw had once built a helmet to shield his mind. The same design later became Magneto's signature. Without it, Shaw was helpless against Professor X. With it, the list of people who could kill him shrank to almost nothing.
This clone had no helmet.
Rowan Mercer's psychic strength wasn't enough to lock Shaw down completely, and he hadn't mastered the darker mind-control spells yet. But he didn't need them.
Confusion was still mental interference.
And it worked.
Rowan knew, too, that this clone's absorption capacity was inferior to the original. He could've beaten it down with brute force eventually. But that would've taken time.
And time was the one thing he refused to waste.
"Stupefy."
He fired another spell at Lyle.
It failed again.
The young Professor X clone stepped into the path of the spell, taking the hit directly. Unlike Shaw, he couldn't absorb magic. His body went limp instantly.
Rowan hesitated.
Then an idea surfaced.
He grabbed the unconscious clone and stuffed him into the magically expanded pocket at his side.
If his memory served him correctly, Professor X possessed the ability to transfer his consciousness. He had done it once before, surviving death by inhabiting the body of his comatose twin.
Compared to that, this clone was young. Healthy. Fully functional.
Even if the new body could never reach his former peak, it would still mean walking again. Living again.
And perhaps, someday, helping Rowan run a school for people like them.
"Stupefy."
A third spell.
Another clone threw itself in the way.
Every clone carried a control implant with one absolute directive from Lyle: protect him at all costs. They would die without hesitation to fulfill it.
"You really do have an unbelievable number of abilities," Lyle shouted, finally reaching the control console. "But it's over. You're about to become an ordinary man. I'll dissect you, study you, and create countless versions just like you. Together, they'll conquer the world for me!"
He slammed a button.
Fear and excitement twisted together inside him. Rowan's existence terrified him. It also intoxicated him.
"Turn me into a normal man?" Rowan replied calmly. "That's cute."
He crushed the Phoenix clone beneath his mace, then casually sliced off a lock of her hair and pocketed it.
Perfect wand-core material. No reason to waste it.
As for Lyle's final card, Rowan already knew what was coming. Against other mutants, even the real Shaw, Magneto, or Professor X, it would've been devastating.
Against him?
Meaningless.
A special incubation pod rose from the floor at the center of the hall. It opened with a hiss.
Inside stood a bald young boy.
The moment the child emerged, Rowan felt it.
His magnetic control vanished.
His psychic sense went dark.
"Leech," Rowan said softly.
A mutant with no offensive power, yet lethal to his own kind. Any mutant within range lost their abilities entirely, no matter how strong.
Some called him the cure.
Not every mutant welcomed what they'd become.
"Subject 757," Lyle sneered as a squad of guards poured through the entrance. "I admit you're powerful. But now? You're just a regular man."
Rowan answered by hurling the alloy mace.
It tore through the guards like a wrecking ball, killing most of them instantly.
"If that worked on me," Rowan said flatly, "I'd already be back to my normal size."
He drew his alloy sword.
"I was never running on mutant abilities alone."
Spells snapped into place. Bodies froze mid-motion. Rowan reclaimed his mace and executed the remaining guards and clones without ceremony.
Then he walked up to Lyle, who had collapsed onto the floor, shaking.
"Subject 757… we can work together," Lyle pleaded. "We can rule the world."
"You don't understand this world," Rowan said.
He dismissed the giant magic and slipped his ring back on.
Then he searched Lyle's mind.
Moments later, Rowan straightened, expression distant.
"Madam Natalie," he murmured. "Black Widow?"
The woman in Lyle's memories matched the world's most dangerous spy far too well.
So S.H.I.E.L.D. had noticed the mutant research.
And if Black Widow got her hands on this data, it wouldn't stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. for long.
It would reach Hydra.
That could never be allowed.
Rowan triggered the grenades on the guards' belts, obliterating the hall in a chain of explosions, then sprinted for the archive room.
If Natalie really was Black Widow, she'd already be moving.
She wasn't there.
Either she failed.
Or she succeeded.
Rowan calmly copied every piece of data from the lab, then destroyed the archive entirely.
Only then did he raise his wand.
"Reveal your tracks."
Footprints shimmered into existence, leading away from the archive.
This time, the name in Rowan's mind wasn't Lyle.
It was Natasha Romanoff.